Category: Politics

The War That Never Ends

“What is the fundamental question one must ask of the world? I would think and posit many things, but the answer was always the same: Why is the child crying?”

     —Alice Walker

(Possessing the Secret of Joy)

 

His name was Ahmed Younis Khader Abu Daqqa.  He was Palestinian; he was Gazan; he was human.  He was the first of 30 children killed by Israeli attacks on Gaza in the space of just 11 days last November.  He – like all the others – stood no chance: a 13-year-old boy with weapons no more deadly than the football he was playing with, shot in the stomach.  Such ‘surgical precision,’ such care!

It’s only weeks after these events that I feel able to write about them with any sort of cogency.  Even now, I only have questions: Who are the terrorists here?  Which is the ‘rogue nation’?  Where has the morality gone?  It’s time for Israel to be held to account – fairly but frankly – not just by its enemies but by its friends too.  Mindless, juvenile apology for an Occupation-addled junkie won’t get us anywhere.  But that’s what you get when you’re brought up on a diet of indoctrination and half-truths.

Let’s get some facts straight.  Since September 2000, 1,638 children have died in the fighting – 92 per cent (1,509) were Palestinian.  From 13th until 19th November 2012, the IDF claims that 2,198 missiles were fired from both sides put together – 61 per cent of these (1,350) were Israeli.  At a minimum estimate, 166 people were killed in last month’s episode – 96 per cent (at least 160) were Palestinian.  The figures don’t lie.

There hasn’t been nearly enough contrition – not from Israel itself, and not from its apologists.  “If we don’t support Israel, who will?” they say.  Such an attitude is a double perfidy: of the principles a state of Israel should be held to, and of those dead, dying and to die (on both sides) because of the perversion of them.  Resisting the automatic urge to leap straight to the defence of a country whose brain-washing machine is so slick that it would have us believe that the whole world is perpetually against ‘us’ is by no means easy for any Jew.  But we must at least try.  After all, the more in touch you are with the Jewish story of persecution, the more repulsed you should be by the day-to-day suffering, degradation and brutality to which the Palestinians are subjected.  As Noam Chomsky notes, the “images of terror and destruction, and the character of the conflict, leave few remaining shreds of credibility to the self-declared ‘most moral army in the world,’ at least among people with eyes open.”

It’s the zealotry that’s blind to this fact that worries me most.  It doesn’t insulate Israel as its proponents believe; it just pushes it down a path of mind-warping self-delusion.  And it pushes us into constructing a frankly sickening fiction.  ‘We’ are defending ourselves; ‘they’ are attacking.  If citizens are killed, we can blame Hamas for hiding behind them – even though Gaza’s population density of 12,216 people per square mile renders this practically unavoidable.  If international lawmakers or the media condemn Israel’s actions, we can cry “persecution!” and “anti-Semitism!” to our heart’s content – even though the reality is that we would never think, for instance, to ignore, exonerate or defend any other nation’s killing of 30 children in less than a fortnight.  We should instead step back – in this as in so many other previous situations – and wonder what has gone wrong: Can this really be collateral damage?  Is this self-defence?

Well, if it is, then count me out.  For even to begin to excuse such atrocities is to make a claim that no empathic human being could: that fidelity to Israel and/or Judaism comes first – before any obligations to supranational legal parameters and before any duties owed to others on the grounds of common humanity.  And that is something that I, for one, cannot and will not do.  To ignore the standards by which we as a global community choose to judge one another is to assert some external claim (or rather, I might suggest, a divine claim) to superiority.  To disavow responsibility for the fates of one’s fellow human beings is to toss morality aside.  To support a set of ideals, whether religious, political or otherwise, without proper care for the facts is to become a fundamentalist.

You only have to take two comments from public figures to see the raft of disgusting generalisations and speculations that guide this brand of thought.  Alan Dershowitz, professor of Law at Harvard, aired a commonly held, oft unchallenged view of Hamas’ tactics in conversation with Piers Morgan.  According to Dershowitz, the Israeli bombing of the Al-Dalou family home in which four children died on 18th November was a deliberate ploy by Hamas to gain sympathy from the international media: “Hamas was firing rockets in order to induce [Israel] to kill the family…  It’s called the dead baby strategy…  They want their children to be martyred so they can carry them out… and thereby gain an advantage over Israel.”  He presents not an ounce of evidence – and the notion eerily echoes the blood libels about which Jews have been tormented since the Middle Ages.

And such prejudices seem to be shared by those in government.  Danny Ayalon, Israel’s current Deputy Foreign Minister (though he won’t stand at the next Knesset), betrayed his misunderstanding of the nuances of the situation in an interview with ‘The Takeaway’. “I would say that most of the people that were hit in Gaza deserved it,” he claimed, “as they were just armed terrorists”.  Try telling that to the grieving parents.

This is not to say that Hamas is blameless.  Doubtless similar (if not identical) beliefs exist in the Palestinian community.  Both sides have their terrorists, their extremists, their fundamentalists – and some of those killed may well have been legitimate targets, even if they were attacked in illegitimate ways that caused disproportionate and inappropriate damage.  But it can do no harm to see things from both perspectives: the fact is that Israel is the occupier, and its actions are in nobody’s interests.  The destruction they cause hurts Gazans before backfiring on Israel with the radicalisation of more and more Palestinians.  Indeed, truisms have a knack of remaining true – there’s no smoke without fire.  As American historian Juan Cole put it when talking about his own country’s foreign policy, “When you bomb people and kill their family, it pisses them off.  They form lifelong grudges…  This is not rocket science.  If they were not sympathetic to the Taliban and al-Qa’ida before, after you bomb the shit out of them, they will be.”

What’s needed is a drastic shift in attitude.  The re-humanisation of the Palestinians could not come quickly enough.  Unflinching support of a destructive policy, both from within and without Israel, which succeeds in demeaning, demonising and degrading the enemy will keep peace forever at arm’s length.  What’s worse is that it will allow the fundamentalists on both sides to thrive, dividing two peoples whose similarities (as it has been acknowledged so many times) are far greater than their differences.

For me and many others, the image that defined this brief battle in a seemingly interminable war was that of the four Al-Dalou siblings.  Their corpses, limp and squashed together on the metal mortuary table, are marbled with bloody scars and debris.  It’s an image of everything this conflict has become: amoral, inhuman, tragic.  It’s an image that forces us to confront the feelings we must deaden in order to justify any fatal attack, whether Israeli or Palestinian: that ‘they’ are ultimately just as vulnerable as ‘us,’ just as mortal, just as human.

 

It’s Meant to be the Beautiful Game – Let’s Try to Keep it That Way

I find it very hard to feel sympathetic for footballers.  But the image of A.C. Milan’s Kevin-Prince Boateng rifling the ball into the stands, ripping his shirt off, and storming off the pitch (the rest of his teammates in tow) in his club’s match against Pro Patria was certainly a poignant one.  “I don’t care what game it is,” Boateng said defiantly, “a friendly, Italian league or Champions’ League match – I would walk off again.”

So what on earth had got up his nose?  Along with three other black players on the Milan team, Boateng had been subjected to racist chants from a section of opposition supporters.  His decision to put an end to the abuse by putting an end to the match was praised by other players across the globe, but was it justified?

Clarence Seedorf doesn’t think so.  The well-respected Dutch midfielder seemed to characterise Boateng’s response as immature: “I don’t see it as such a positive thing because [it] empowers more and more of this behaviour,” he observed.  And his argument has an enticing logic to it.  By enabling hooligans to cause the disruption they so crave, we show the minority that they have the power spoil the game for everyone else.  Far better, says Seedorf, to boot out the offending faction and carry on playing.

The question is not whether racism (or, for that matter, any other form of abuse) has a place in stadia, but whether players have a right to take matters into their own hands if nothing is done about it.  Ever since the rightly ridiculed Michel Platini, UEFA President, threatened Mario Balotelli with a booking if he refused to put up with racist hollers from the crowd at Euro 2012, there’s been a fair amount of controversy over the issue – not least because of Sepp Blatter’s gaffe six months earlier when he told players that on-field racism should be resolved with a handshake.  (Why hadn’t anyone else thought of that?)

In fact, at almost every level, football’s governing bodies have failed to tackle racism.  Just compare UEFA’s initial £65,000 fine on Serbia following persistent abuse of some of England’s Under-21s last October, to the £80,000 that Nicklas Bendtner was forced to dish out after revealing his branded boxer shorts after scoring at Euro 2012.  And no, you didn’t misread that.  Oh, and what about the paltry £65,000 the Croatian FA was charged after racial abuse at Euro 2012?  Or the £32,500 that Lazio shelled out for anti-Semitic jeering at Tottenham fans in September?  Or John Terry’s mystifying escape (with just a £220,000 fine and a four match ban), like a cat with nine lives, from the Anton Ferdinand incident?

The simple question is this: why are footballing institutions so reluctant to act?  It’s a question that never gets answered.  At least we’re not in Russia, where both Christopher Samba and Roberto Carlos have been offered bananas by fans.  Zenit St Petersburg’s biggest supporters’ group (called Landscrona) was responsible for one of the most horrendous sporting stories of 2012: they went completely unpunished for writing a manifesto making the oh-so-reasonable request that the club recruit no more non-white or gay players – please.  The multi-million pound signings of two black players who were “forced down Zenit’s throat” had broken “an important tradition that underlines the team’s identity”.  And gay footballers?  Well, they’re just “unworthy of our great city”.  Evidently.

But don’t be fooled into thinking everything’s dandy over here.  English football isn’t immune to racism, even if the problems lie just beneath the surface.  It still shocks me that only three of the 88 managers listed by the LMA are black.  The imbalance is uncomfortable, to say the least.  Indeed, the very fact that two of the most high-profile in-game incidents of racism – involving Luis Suarez and John Terry – in Premier League history took place just last season is extremely telling.

Given all the evidence, it’s hard to accept Seedorf’s cynical view of Boateng’s stand.  It was one that has long since needed to be made – and one that must continue to be made until the establishment makes some serious changes.  As Reading striker Jason Roberts noted, “until the authorities take appropriate action and start taking this issue seriously, this battle will have to be fought by the players.”  It’s by no means ideal, but for as long as footballing bodies refuse to clamp down on every kind of abuse, there seems to be no other option – an ugly situation to be in, in a game now drowning in cash but thirsting for morality.

Put yourself in the boots of Kevin-Prince Boateng, the ball at your feet as thugs behind you whoop and holler.  “Imagine yourself,” as Fifpro’s anti-racism spokesman, Tony Higgins, does, “at work and someone standing right next to you is constantly insulting you in the worst way possible.  Would you accept that?”

I know I wouldn’t.

On the Right to Bear Arms

It’s at times like this when I can feel every inch of the 3,675 miles that separate London from Washington DC.  Oakland, Aurora, Oak Creek, New York City, Minneapolis, Brookfield, Newtown, New York, Chicago – and that’s just a small selection of 2012’s mass shootings (you can read about some more here).  I could fill this entire article with the names of the wounded and the dead.  It’s almost too much to take in.  Never has the American anti-gun lobby had more ammunition.  And yet, as it stands, I’m more inclined to despair for it than to hope.

What took place at Sandy Hook Elementary School was beyond nauseating, beyond horrific.  Another mass murder, another gun-wielding maniac, another tragedy.  The day itself may not have been about politics, but its aftermath should be.  And when Newtown is finally left, out of sight of the cameras and the speculators, to pick up the pieces, I wonder what – if anything at all – will have changed.

“We can’t accept events like this as routine,” President Obama intoned in the wake of the shootings, “Are we really prepared to say that we are powerless in the face of such carnage?”  Obama’s emotional barometer was spot on, but what of his political one?  Sadly, the promise of “meaningful action” can only be received with a dose of cynicism; we’ve seen it one too many times.

After the near-fatal shooting of Gabrielle Giffords at Tucson, the President assured the public that there would be a “national conversation… about everything from the merits of gun safety laws to the adequacy of our mental-health system”.  There was no conversation.  After the Aurora cinema murders, many pleaded for a debate about the laws that allowed James Holmes to own the semi-automatic rifle, shotgun and handgun with which he massacred 12 people and injured many more.  There was no debate.  Change has been slower than glacial.

So what more can we expect now?  US gun laws are as lax as ever: the ban on assault weapons ended in 2004; Republicans, with all their links to the NRA, currently dominate the House of Representatives; and recently, the state of Michigan passed a bill which means that people will be able to carry concealed guns into schools (including classrooms and dormitories), bars, hospitals, places of worship and entertainment venues.  And all this with the knowledge that 15 of the 25 worst mass shootings of the last half-century have taken place in the Land of the Free, with the knowledge that five of the 11 deadliest American shootings have taken place since 2007.

Still the pro-gun lobby won’t concede defeat.  Still they persist with their “guns don’t kill people, people kill people” nonsense, even when the statistics belie their beliefs.  It’s no secret that the US has a gun problem: 2009 saw 11,500 gun-related homicides, 554 unintentional deaths and 45,000 non-fatal assaults.  With 88.8 guns for every 100 citizens in 2007 according to the Small Arms Survey, the USA has more firearms per person than any other country in the world – almost double the number of Yemen, the country in second place.  But at the same time, this is a country where the NRA (a group of over 4 million members) could throw $2.9 million into its campaigns in 2011 alone, ten times the amount its opponents could muster.

It’s hardly a surprise, then, that the Second Amendment continues to be treated as sacred.  Not when Republican Louie Gohmert isn’t the only one wishing that there had been more guns, not less, at Sandy Hook: “I wish to God [that the principal, Dawn Hochsprung] had had an M-4 in her office… so when she heard the gunfire, she pulls it out… and takes his head off before he can kill those precious kids”.  Not when radio host Alex Jones isn’t alone in baselessly refiguring the events, with extraordinary conviction, as a conspiracy, a staged shooting designed to demonise gun owners’ rights.  Not when Larry Pratt, head of the 300,000-strong Gun Owners of America, isn’t the only one who thinks that it’s the gun control supporters who “have the blood of little children on their hands”.

Perhaps the pervasiveness of such pig-headedness – opposed as it is to any debate over Second Amendment rights – is the reason why the words ‘gun control’ weren’t even whispered in the presidential campaign.  They’re not, after all, vote-winning words.  It’s by no means realistic to expect guns to be outlawed overnight; views are far too entrenched for that – the very fact that events like Newtown prompt Americans, absurdly, to bulk-buy assault weapons (without a moment’s hesitation) for fear of them being banned says it all.

And the fear isn’t unwarranted; it’s recently been announced that Obama supports proposals to outlaw assault weapons with the kind of federal law that expired in 2004.  For the safety of the countless American lives at risk, you’d better damn well hope he means it.  For as long as the Second Amendment and all its implications remain undebated, unchallenged, unexamined, heinous massacres like Columbine, like Virginia Tech, like Newtown will keep happening with the regularity of clockwork.

No longer is Barack Obama fishing for votes; and no longer is he seeking re-election.  And though he’s up against a powerful pressure group indeed, now is the time for him to fulfil his promises.  As Paul Waldman and Jaime Fuller wrote so incisively in The American Prospect, Obama may have reacted to the Sandy Hook tragedy as a parent, but he must act as a president.  Then, and only then, will we be justified in having the audacity to hope for change.

Is This (The Beginning Of) The End Of Prohibition?

Speaking as someone who knows next to nothing about the American lawmaking process – and can therefore be naively optimistic – I’ve had my mental fingers crossed ever since I heard that Colorado and Washington have both voted to legalise cannabis for recreational use. (NB Mental fingers: those things you cross when you really, really want something to happen but you don’t want to have to stop typing.)

Potheads in the two states have been celebrating well in advance of any consent from the Department of Justice, with plans already in place to direct tax money from legal sale of the drug into the construction of schools (oh, to be young enough to enrol in the first real High School) and a range of health programmes including drug and alcohol treatment.

Oregon just lost out on legalising weed – although, with arguably the most liberal initiative of the three states (they wanted unlimited personal amounts and growing privileges), but by far the smallest campaign budget, this outcome is perhaps understandable. Maybe next time, Oregon. I’ve got my mental fingers crossed for you, ‘n all.

Another good piece of pot-related news came in the form of the Mayor of Amsterdam’s announcement (to admittedly negligible surprise) that foreign tourists will not be banned from using the city’s coffee shops. Wasn’t that a lot of worry for nothing – cannabis café owners fretting over the loss of tourism, the Mayor facing the prospect of the city descending into a miasma of dodgy street dealers and shoddy merchandise, not to mention us lot sitting worriedly on the couch in front of the laptop, trying to work out how to fit in another jaunt to Holland before the law came into effect. Worry over, anyway.

All this liberalism has been making me feel just a little bit as though I’m living in some kind of backwater, conservative commune, rather than one of the world’s most awesome global cities. While we’ve been resting back in our creaking leather armchairs, passing the brandy and gently chuckling at the antics of our younger cousin, America’s been getting on with surpassing us in some pretty damn important arenas. Britain upgrades cannabis to Class B, America legalises it first for medicinal and then recreational use. America gets Obamacare, while in Britain we’re in danger of losing our internationally-lauded NHS to the fickle whims of privatisation. Our PM reveals himself to be an immoral wheeler-dealer of war machines to the Middle East, while in America a genius businessman fights to use his enormous wealth to develop clean energy for all. Oh wait, that was Iron Man. But you get the point.

But anyway, back to America. What does this legalisation of pot mean for them? Well, I can’t imagine that the Department of Justice is going to roll over on this one, if its initial, tight-lipped “no comment” reaction is anything to go by. Presumably it will cite precedent, and complain of the difficulties in managing a country in which some states allow the use of a drug while other states battle smuggling issues and criminal activity. Or perhaps it will just bring its big federal boot down and yell “I said NO!” Which would be a shame because, as some have already pointed out, this could be a great opportunity to start to address the longstanding conflict between state and federal laws. It seems bizarre that you can do something that’s both legal and illegal at the same time. Personally, I see this as a case of political and legislative stagnation rather than mere precedent, but surely even two states deciding to legalise cannabis evidences a sea change worthy of review on a federal level? At any rate, the Department of Justice needs to make a decision soon – it would be a phenomenal waste of resources if Washington and Colorado got too far into their implementation and were then told it’d all been for nothing.

A much more immediate issue is, of course, the impact of legalisation on drug cartels. Make something legal, regulate it, keep the quality to a certain standard, make it easily obtainable… why would anyone choose instead to buy off some shifty dealer who may well be bulking out the product with sugar or sand in order to turn a profit – someone who, in turn, has to handle the paranoid people one level up, who sometimes deal in much nastier things than weed and occasionally wave a gun in their face? It’s a no-brainer. Obviously the lords aren’t going to be too happy about it, but any savvy street dealer or home grower with half a brain should be looking to capitalise on the change in law and set up shop legitimately. More money, less risk. Another no-brainer.

Ok, so I’m over-simplifying. There are many knots to be massaged out of this legislation, including how to test for “drug-drivers” without accidentally penalising medical marijuana users (though, to be fair, if you have enough in your system to be considered too impaired to drive, you probably shouldn’t be driving). But this has got medical marijuana users understandably worried – will the tests be good enough, will they be fair? It’s something that needs to be worked out and set in place beforehand in order to avoid wrongful arrests, but it shouldn’t be a permanent barrier to legalisation. Calm down, guys. Put your feet up and have a smoke, why not?

Surprising enough as is opposition to legalisation from those who can already buy and smoke legally, it’s as nothing when compared to the support from anti-drugs campaigners. Funny what the promise of funding for rehab programmes can do to a person’s views – but I guess it’s no weirder than a government taxing alcohol and tobacco and then pushing tax money into a healthcare system that provides treatment for diseases caused by the consumption of alcohol and tobacco. Funny old world, eh? I’m not even going to mention the utter hypocrisy of a system that’s been benefiting from the abuse of certain substances while punishing the use of others. Or add my voice to the millions of those yelling that “the war on drugs isn’t working”. The evidence speaks for itself.

Whatever the outcome in the US, full credit to this significant minority of America that has had an attack of rationality and accepted that the legalisation – and, therefore, regulation – of marijuana is the only way forward in the so-called “war on drugs”. You can’t stop people experimenting with drugs – human beings have been getting high for millennia – but you can do your utmost to ensure that personal risk is minimised, in this case by taking power away from criminals and regulating your product for quality. Oh, and did we forget it can be taxed, just like alcohol and tobacco? Legalised weed is an untapped, potentially hugely lucrative source of revenue for an ailing economy. I wholeheartedly wish that British politicians would stop pandering to the sensationalist media and recognise when to act for the benefit of the people. We’ve got Tories running the show now, for god’s sake – surely they of all people should be able to spot when they’re missing out on a fantastic business opportunity?

Rowan Atkinson Argues Against the “Culture of Censoriousness”

Roan Atkinson is calling to repeal Section 5 of the Public Order Act, which bans any word or phrase that could be inferred as insulting. Atkinson stated that “If we want a robust society, we need more robust dialogue and that must include the right to insult or to offend. Because, as someone once said, the freedom to be inoffensive is no freedom at all.”

 

The Arrest of Matthew Woods & What It Means For Free Speech

The news and public have lately been gripped by the disappearance of five-year-old April Jones from her hometown of Machynlleth, Wales. Amidst reports of Mark Bridger being arrested on charges of her murder was the story that 19-year-old Matthew Woods has been arrested and sentenced to 12 weeks’ prison time for “offensive” messages posted on Facebook.

Section 127 of the Communications Act 2003 states that it is a crime to send messages that are “grossly offensive or of an indecent, obscene or menacing character” or are “intended to cause annoyance, inconvenience or needless anxiety”. In other words, the confusing and subjective issue of cyber-bullying has, for nigh on a decade, had bestowed upon it its own set of rules and regulations that try and ascertain when messages or jokes have gone too far. There’s a problem though: the offensiveness of anything is purely subjective. While we can all agree that messages that aim to incite violence or hatred towards another person or group should be punished, the difference is that these messages are expressly posted to cause harm or aggravation physically, whereas the crime committed by Woods highlights that people have different opinions on humour and what crosses the boundaries.

As society has become more liberal in recent decades, comedy that pushes the boundaries has become more prominent. I do not suppose that my former classmates making endless dead baby jokes should have been locked up for their tasteless sense of humour; these people did not kill babies or want to kill babies or even find it funny when babies died. The world of humour somehow exists almost as an entity to itself, where we can use laughter to try to make light of a situation or to try to overcome the pain of what it causes. While there are groups that campaign against Family Guy and its creator Seth MacFarlane, there are millions more who enjoy his comedy, regardless of how insensitive or offensive it may be. And from this we can see that comments are not all equal. For instance, a comment of ill taste directed to a particular audience, whether that be a friend or a room full of paying customers to a comedy club, is one thing, and that same comment delivered to the mother of April Jones is something else entirely. The former is trying to get a laugh out of people, the latter is, as the Communications Act states, “intended to cause annoyance”. It is the latter that is worthy of punishment.

The arrest and sentence of Matthew Woods raises the issue of just how much of a right to free speech we really have. Woods’ posts were made on his Facebook page, rather than an email sent directly to the family of April. It is therefore the cyber equivalent of a remark made to no one in particular, or a close friend, or a room full of paying attendees, rather than knocking on Jones’ mother’s door to make crude jokes. So if sentences can be handed out for that, should they not also be handed out to people making comments in ill taste in a setting outside of cyberspace?

There is no denying that Woods’ comments were insensitive, but this sentence has drawn a line in the sand that says “It’s ok to make these comments to your acquaintances, in a book, in a pub, on stage, in songs, but not online.” In a democratic society such as ours, it isn’t possible to live a life with no offence received. Whether it’s someone else’s faith, actions, language or humour, we can be offended by anything. This begs the question, “How can subjectivity be governed?” Typically the argument is simple: If you don’t like something, ignore it. Don’t buy the albums you don’t like, don’t go to the place of worship of a religion you don’t like, and don’t see the comedian that offends you. For the Internet, it’s as simple as don’t visit the websites with content you find offensive.

Indeed, Woods was apparently inspired to write his posts after visiting Sickipedia, a site that describes itself as “almost certainly the best online sick joke database in the world”. The sentence handed to Woods should surely extend to arresting the owners of the website too, as well as all the people involved in the offensive and depraved world of pornography, not to mention the X-Factor judges for relentlessly producing music that offends the ears and minds of all sane people.

Once we start to regulate subjective things like being offended, we must ask what next. Will it be as acceptable to be arrested for private emails between like-minded people if they contain “inappropriate” content? Will it be considered a hate crime to criticise another religion? Ultimately what needs to be remembered is that Woods made comments that were insensitive and sick, but not criminal in nature. There were no threats; he was not responsible for the girl’s disappearance, nor did he harm or abuse her. He did not make the comments directly to the family. The efforts of law enforcement should be focused on the person or people who are responsible for her disappearance or any harm caused to her.

Steve Hughes can have the last word on the subject of offence:


Easily Offended Then Watch This by stevanhogg