As those you say that the apocalpyse is upon us, of the prophecy of the Mayans, that in the year of our lord two thousand and twelve, thus it has been said:
That there existeth a great Christian empire, founded across the waves from the Old World of lore, by those founders who consider themselves as equal to the apostles in their piety and morality, created for the equality and freedom of the followers of the lord.
And in this New World, their empire would be greater in influence and ideals than all those other kingdoms of the lord, which in its greatness, would dominate over all the others.
For this Christian empire would in its magnimanity, act as a magnet for all the oppressed of the world; this emigrants' empire would act as a beacon of light, speading the word of God to those other parts of the world as yet untouched by His word; from Mesopotamia to the lands of the Hindu Kush, emulating the reach of Alexander the Great.
And by the year of our lord two thousand and eight, this Christian empire will elect as its leader a man of great intellect, taught in the ways of jurisprudence and preach morality, and he will be the son of the man descended from the first men on the Earth, coming from the lands of those beyond the Nile.
His name will mean "a gift" to the empire itself (as will be said in its language, that of the men of Mohammed, "al-Barakka"), though some will consider him a messiah in his own right, born to lead the Christian empire out of a time of darkness and injustice.
For the empire that he inherits would be broken; wars in the lands of Alexander's conquests still to be concluded; the recklessness of his predecessor, unfortunately to share the same name as that of the empire's founder, would be legendary, and an insult to the founder's memory; the evil and baseness of his predecessor's followers would poison the country yet.
For this "messiah" would be tested like few others before him - many of the empire would doubt him; those who profit from poverty and debasement will continue to poison and curse his name; the party of his predecessor would plot to destroy every good act he does, and they would do so falsely claiming the name of the Lord, for these are the followers of the anti-Christ.
And so it would come to pass in the year of our lord two thousand and twelve, the decisive confrontation would take place between "al-Barakka", the leader of the greatest of all Christian empires, against the forces who seek to usurp the name of our Lord and bring about the fall of the empire into the hands of the followers of the Lord of the seven deadly sins; greed, vanity, wrath, sloth, lust, gluttony and envy.
And so the party of those forces, who would name falsely name themselves after the republic's ideals, who elect an anti-Christ who symbolises all these deadly sins. For this anti-Christ would be as intelligent as this greatest of emperors, versed in the histories of mankind and geography. He would use his skills of rhetoric to inflame the passions of the people, using falsehoods and wrathful words to distort the words of the emperor.
And so it would be that in the year of our lord two thousand and twelve, this anti-Christ, whose name would literally be "new town", would cause to call the emperor a traitor, using lofy words to encourage evil deeds, as is the wont of Lucifer.
For the apocalypse that is predicted is entirely within the hands of those with the power to elect; to choose the reign of the worthy and the intellectual, "al-Barakka"; or to elect an emperor who would seek to use fine words to usher in a new age of the anti-Christ, where the greatest Christian empire is ruled by a man of high intelligence but of no moral character, who would seek to destroy everything that holds the empire together, to turn man against man for the sake of greed, turn brother against brother for the sake of envy; to turn benevolence to malevolence abroad, for the the sake of wrath, and destroy the earth in a thousand fireballs.
Thus is written is the revealation of the year of our lord two thousand and twelve.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Government in the UK: of the media, for the media, by the media.
The role of the media in Britain has been discussed to death in recent times. The hacking scandal and the long list of celebrities and ordinary families that were the victim to the Murdoch (and other) press' casual attitude to ethics and the law has been the ironic focus of the media itself. Navel-gazing has become the British media's recent obsession.
But this also brings to the surface the role that the Murdoch press and the media in general have in the decision-making process at the governmental level. The UK is not alone in the world in having an influential media, and this is in so many ways a great service to democracy.
But there is also a darker side to this. I wrote a short while ago about "Demarchy", and in that article I talked about something called "Ochliocracy", more commonly called mob rule. Mob rule is also another way of talking about decision-making by interest groups; when governments make their decisions simply based on the reaction to pressures by groups of people with special interests.
In the modern world this includes lobbyists and corporate interests, but in ancient and mediaeval times this was any number of periodic bouts of public hysteria, often engineered by populist demagogues eager for power themselves; in the Roman Empire, this was often how Emperors rose and fell from power; in mediaeval Italy, this was how city-states like Florence changed government; in modern Italy, it was how populist demagogues like Silvio Berlusconi were able to stay in power for so long while allowing the country to fall into financial ruin.
This is how riots start; in a dysfunctional society, this is how government policy is made. The modern term that spin doctors call it is "policy-on-the-hoof", but for successive British governments over the last twenty years, it was one way of trying to maintain their popularity.
The most important way that people in modern society get information is through the media; in Britain, this means news media like "The Sun" and "The Daily Mail"; the first is the most popular tabloid in the country, the second is the most popular "middlebrow" newpaper. As a result, much of the British public obtain their information from these newspapers. The newspapers would reply that no-one is forcing them to buy them, and that whatever viewpoints they share must therefore be reflected by their readers; this may be true.
But there is also another angle to this; by thinking about if the amount of column inches these newspapers spend on dicussing certain issues (such as violent crime, moral issues, celebrity intrigue, Europe, and so on) is a reflection of the relative concerns of their readers. By this measure, what comes first: the chicken or the egg? Do the media spend so many column inches on violent crime to reflect their readers' concerns, or are the readers so concerned about violent crime because they read about it so much in the media? Or is it a combination of both?
What has been proven by surveys is that compared to issues such as the economy and other immediate concerns, Europe is not a major issue for the average person on the street. They do not spend sleepless nights thinking about what bureaucrats in Brussels are doing.
It seems that the editors and journalists of "The Sun" and "The Daily Mail" do, though. Which brings us back to the point: where do people get their points of views from? If the media are there to reflect the public's concerns, why do some of them spend so many column inches talking about things that the average person has been proven not to be so concerned about?
"The Sun" and "The Daily Mail" are the two most Euro-sceptic newspapers in the country; they are also the two most popular. Of course the editors of these newspapers are entitled to their opinion, but I seriously wonder if their readers would be quite so sceptical of the EU if the editors of those newspapers spent a little more time focusing on what people can do to improve the British economy and less time on how bad the EU is for Britain.
There is a famous quote from Hitler: "If you repeat the lie long enough, people will believe it as truth". The problem with some sections of the media is that their journalists spend too much time on opinionated (and factually inaccurate or misleading) comment, and not enough on furnishing their readers with the ammunition to allow them to think for themselves. But it would be naive to think that this would change: newspapers are a business, after all.
So this means that news coverage by the likes of "The Sun" and "The Daily Mail" is fuelled by nothing more than profit. In theory (according to free-market proponents), this should mean that newspapers will be in a competition to tell the most factually-enlightening stories. Ha-ha, don't count on it. Newspapers are more often in a competition to sell stories that will either entertain or reinforce to people what they already think. In other words, market forces here act more as a dumbing-down mechanism rather than a way to encourage the spread of information. Who decides what "news" is? The newspapers, of course. In an open society, it is practically impossible to ignore what's happening in the world completely; in other other hand, media outlets are perfectly free to prioritise as they wish.
By "prioritising", newspapers like "The Sun" and "The Daily Mail" are deciding for their readers what is important and what is not, which brings us back to their reply that people are perfectly free to choose another newspaper if they don't like what they read.
But that's a simplistic argument. There are not an infinite number of newspapers, and it is true that most people in the UK, like everywhere else, buy it more for casual entertainment. There's nothing wrong with that, as much as those who would consider themselves "intellectual" might think so: it's human nature.
These newspapers know this, of course: that's how they remain so successful. But this media "prioritisation" also has an effect on government. The term "moral panic" is as old as the hills, and one about paedophiles was famously engineered by the tabloids ten years ago or so. The panic about Europe has been in the media for around twenty years, and has been consistently engineered by these same two newspapers. As a result, successive governments have been eager to pander and appease these sentiments.
We saw the partial result of that on Friday morning. Not wishing to seem "weak" on Europe, and eager for good headlines with the key newspapers, David Cameron pandered to the worst elements of the popular media. This is what happens when you allow the narrow interests of a few newspaper editors to dominate the affairs of government. This is the meaning of "Ochliocracy": the subversion of the democratic model through the media, moving from one moral panic to the next.
Alastair Campbell once described "The Daily Mail" as the worst aspects of British society masquerading as the best. In that sense, at least "The Sun" has the decency to be honest about its motives.
But this also brings to the surface the role that the Murdoch press and the media in general have in the decision-making process at the governmental level. The UK is not alone in the world in having an influential media, and this is in so many ways a great service to democracy.
But there is also a darker side to this. I wrote a short while ago about "Demarchy", and in that article I talked about something called "Ochliocracy", more commonly called mob rule. Mob rule is also another way of talking about decision-making by interest groups; when governments make their decisions simply based on the reaction to pressures by groups of people with special interests.
In the modern world this includes lobbyists and corporate interests, but in ancient and mediaeval times this was any number of periodic bouts of public hysteria, often engineered by populist demagogues eager for power themselves; in the Roman Empire, this was often how Emperors rose and fell from power; in mediaeval Italy, this was how city-states like Florence changed government; in modern Italy, it was how populist demagogues like Silvio Berlusconi were able to stay in power for so long while allowing the country to fall into financial ruin.
This is how riots start; in a dysfunctional society, this is how government policy is made. The modern term that spin doctors call it is "policy-on-the-hoof", but for successive British governments over the last twenty years, it was one way of trying to maintain their popularity.
The most important way that people in modern society get information is through the media; in Britain, this means news media like "The Sun" and "The Daily Mail"; the first is the most popular tabloid in the country, the second is the most popular "middlebrow" newpaper. As a result, much of the British public obtain their information from these newspapers. The newspapers would reply that no-one is forcing them to buy them, and that whatever viewpoints they share must therefore be reflected by their readers; this may be true.
But there is also another angle to this; by thinking about if the amount of column inches these newspapers spend on dicussing certain issues (such as violent crime, moral issues, celebrity intrigue, Europe, and so on) is a reflection of the relative concerns of their readers. By this measure, what comes first: the chicken or the egg? Do the media spend so many column inches on violent crime to reflect their readers' concerns, or are the readers so concerned about violent crime because they read about it so much in the media? Or is it a combination of both?
What has been proven by surveys is that compared to issues such as the economy and other immediate concerns, Europe is not a major issue for the average person on the street. They do not spend sleepless nights thinking about what bureaucrats in Brussels are doing.
It seems that the editors and journalists of "The Sun" and "The Daily Mail" do, though. Which brings us back to the point: where do people get their points of views from? If the media are there to reflect the public's concerns, why do some of them spend so many column inches talking about things that the average person has been proven not to be so concerned about?
"The Sun" and "The Daily Mail" are the two most Euro-sceptic newspapers in the country; they are also the two most popular. Of course the editors of these newspapers are entitled to their opinion, but I seriously wonder if their readers would be quite so sceptical of the EU if the editors of those newspapers spent a little more time focusing on what people can do to improve the British economy and less time on how bad the EU is for Britain.
There is a famous quote from Hitler: "If you repeat the lie long enough, people will believe it as truth". The problem with some sections of the media is that their journalists spend too much time on opinionated (and factually inaccurate or misleading) comment, and not enough on furnishing their readers with the ammunition to allow them to think for themselves. But it would be naive to think that this would change: newspapers are a business, after all.
So this means that news coverage by the likes of "The Sun" and "The Daily Mail" is fuelled by nothing more than profit. In theory (according to free-market proponents), this should mean that newspapers will be in a competition to tell the most factually-enlightening stories. Ha-ha, don't count on it. Newspapers are more often in a competition to sell stories that will either entertain or reinforce to people what they already think. In other words, market forces here act more as a dumbing-down mechanism rather than a way to encourage the spread of information. Who decides what "news" is? The newspapers, of course. In an open society, it is practically impossible to ignore what's happening in the world completely; in other other hand, media outlets are perfectly free to prioritise as they wish.
By "prioritising", newspapers like "The Sun" and "The Daily Mail" are deciding for their readers what is important and what is not, which brings us back to their reply that people are perfectly free to choose another newspaper if they don't like what they read.
But that's a simplistic argument. There are not an infinite number of newspapers, and it is true that most people in the UK, like everywhere else, buy it more for casual entertainment. There's nothing wrong with that, as much as those who would consider themselves "intellectual" might think so: it's human nature.
These newspapers know this, of course: that's how they remain so successful. But this media "prioritisation" also has an effect on government. The term "moral panic" is as old as the hills, and one about paedophiles was famously engineered by the tabloids ten years ago or so. The panic about Europe has been in the media for around twenty years, and has been consistently engineered by these same two newspapers. As a result, successive governments have been eager to pander and appease these sentiments.
We saw the partial result of that on Friday morning. Not wishing to seem "weak" on Europe, and eager for good headlines with the key newspapers, David Cameron pandered to the worst elements of the popular media. This is what happens when you allow the narrow interests of a few newspaper editors to dominate the affairs of government. This is the meaning of "Ochliocracy": the subversion of the democratic model through the media, moving from one moral panic to the next.
Alastair Campbell once described "The Daily Mail" as the worst aspects of British society masquerading as the best. In that sense, at least "The Sun" has the decency to be honest about its motives.
Labels:
Britain,
Daily Mail,
media,
moral panic,
Murdoch,
UK
Saturday, December 10, 2011
David Cameron's Euro-message: a puppet at home; out-foxed abroad
There was a sad inevitiability to what happened at the European summit in the early hours of Friday morning. Thinking back to Britain's relationship with Europe since the Second World War, it seems obvious that Europe had always been planning further integration, while Britain writhed over what position it should take. That position seems clearer today.
The reason for the meeting over the last two days was (as always it seems these days) to save the Euro from collapse. Let's not forget that the reason for the crisis is twofold: firstly, chronic overspending by the likes of Italy and Greece (and Spain, and Portugal, and Ireland...) that put the credibility of the Eurozone at stake; and secondly, chronic financial mismanagement by banks that dug themselves, like Greece and Italy, into a very big hole.
Both Germany and France were the primary architects of the plan on the table to stabilise the financial and governmental system.
Let's remind ourselves that the main reason that the likes of Greece and Italy were allowed to get themselves into this mess was because at the foundation of the Euro there were not strong measures to ensure safety across all Eurozone countries; in other words, there was one currency, but no effective controls at a national level. A more common sense approach would have been to take the same appoach with joining the Euro as with new members joining the EU: if you can't follow the rules, then don't join until you can. Put in this light, Merkel's idea of setting a supra-national financial policy through the Eurozone is pure common sense, righting a wrong made at the birth of the Euro that contributed to the crisis in the first place.
The failure of many European and British banks to follow the most basic rules of economics (not to borrow more than you earn) was the other main factor to the Euro-crisis. Nicholas Sarkozy was the main proponent for the idea of having a stronger regulation of the banking industry across the continent in order to prevent banks from repeating the same mistakes (as they are wont to do). As British banks were the least-regulated in Europe, and, not coincidentally, the worst culprits of irresponsible casino banking, they were the most to blame for this problem (and, therefore, those with the most to fear from regulation).
These two proposals, then, have the benefit of making another financial crisis less likely, at least in theory. Regardless of what views you may have over sovereignty (and in the inter-connected 21st century, that term is increasingly losing its relevance), these proposals would make the EU a safer place to do business.
That's the context of the Euro-crisis. David Cameron, as the Prime Minister of the UK, was at the meeting to discuss these new powers (and the emergence of a new treaty to enforce it), and Britain's role to play. Before going to the meeting, he had promised he would use the veto (as any treaty cannot go ahead with all member states agreeing to it) to block these measures if they damaged the British national interest.
The point here is: what IS in the British national interest in this situation? To allow the continued de-regulation of the British banking industry? It appears that Cameron's thinking was purely on these lines: to protect The City of London at all costs. But does The City produce most of our exports (60% of which go to the EU)? The financial sector, at its height about five years ago, represented ten percent of the overall economy (in itself a lot compared to most other countries); but what about the other ninety percent?
In other words, Cameron, by using the veto, made it absolutely clear to European leaders, as well as his own British voters, that he is focused on the boys in The City, and has forgotten about everyone else that contributes to the British economy, and trades with Europe. By his actions on Friday morning, he has reinforced the stereotype that he is aloof from everyday British interests, even the average business that trades with Europe.
Then there is the issue of his party. It is true that even before leaving for the summit he had put himself in an impossible position back home: if he didn't produce the veto, his own party MPs would have been incensed and many would probably have begun plotting for a leadership challenge, in a repeat of John Major's misfortune back in the '90s. The problem Cameron has is that what Major once called "The Bastards" (a small number of strongly Euro-sceptic MPS) are now a significant number in his party, many of whom were elected only last year, so have no established sense of loyalty to the leadership.
By producing the veto Cameron has simply shown that he has caved in to the short-termist interests of The City (who also provide a great deal of financial support to the Tories), and the knee-jerk interests of his party. Cameron has proven himself to be a puppet; nothing more.
Then there is the way in which Cameron dealt with the negotiations themselves. When Gordon Brown was Prime Minister, he may well have been mocked at home, but was at least well-respected abroad, due to his management of the crisis. Sarkozy once famously told him: "I don't know what it is about you, Gordon, but somehow, I love you". By contrast, it seems that Sarkozy has nothing but disdain for Cameron. It seems also clear that the treaty vote that took place the other day was a real "do-or-die" moment for Europe, in particular the UK.
Sarkozy seems to have taken George W Bush's famous "you're-with-us-or-against-us" approach with Cameron: either sign the treaty, or get lost. Therefore, it was not Cameron who showed strength in using the veto; it was Sarkozy who forced Cameron into that position. Sarkozy is as wily as a fox in European politics, but has a savage bite to match. What's so worrying about Cameron's approach to European politics is a clear lack of knowledge or diplomacy about how to deal with these kinds of complex issues; he failed to even make a serious attempt to find out before the meeting what potential allies he had on his stance against the financial reforms. What some Conservatives might call "Bulldog Spirit" just seems like stubborn stupidity to Europeans.
No other Prime Minister has ever had to resort to using a veto in Europe. Even Margaret Thatcher was able to find a compromise; so was John Major. It is true that Sarkozy was in a stubborn mood over regulation, but still, a more experienced and skilled operator would have been able find some kind of way out that perserved Britain's status, but also could act as a way forward. That's the nature of negotiation: you negotiate. It's also worth remembering that all the EU's policies are decided in this way: there is no "diktat" as such, because all policies are the result of negotiation and supra-national compromise - this is the price of co-operation.
It seems that the experience of those five days in May last year, those long discussions and compromises that Cameron made to get a first taste of power with the LibDems, were all forgotten early on Friday morning. It's sad to think that Sarkozy and Cameron were the two prominent national leaders that worked together the most to bring about military action in Libya only nine months ago; there was none of that spirit of co-operation and careful negotiation on Friday. In that sense, Cameron is useless at European politics.
This now lives Britain in a special Euro-club of one. Cameron's failure to reach a compromise in Europe leaves Britain's position in Europe more danger than ever thought possible. Although still in the EU, thanks to Cameron, Britain is now officially in the second tier, with no-one to keep us company. So by his actions, Cameron has not only removed Britian's voice from the main table, but still powerless to complain about what actions the EU has that affect us; in other words, as long as we are in the EU, it still has influence on us, but we have less influence on it, as we are now a second-class European power.
More worryingly, by pandering to the Eurosceptics in his party, Cameron has simply traded the accusation of Chamberlain-esque "appeasement" to Europe, for appeasement to the lunatics in his own party. By doing so, he has surely opened up a can of worms; not Margaret Thatcher, nor even John Major, did that. Now they have tasted blood - what's next? The calls from his wilder backbenchers may well move on to the next bone of contention: getting out of the EU altogther. And let's not forget that Cameron owes his position as Prime Minister due to the co-operation of his coaltion partners, the LibDems, on paper the most pro-European party in parliament. Large numbers of their party are now livid with their leader, Nick Clegg, for allowing Cameron to take the position he did at the negotiations.
So, for the sake of appeasing the wilder members of his party, and the short-term interests of The City, Cameron has put Britain in a new, second-class position in the EU, and also created a huge (potentially splitting) headache within his own coalition government.
Well done, Dave.
The reason for the meeting over the last two days was (as always it seems these days) to save the Euro from collapse. Let's not forget that the reason for the crisis is twofold: firstly, chronic overspending by the likes of Italy and Greece (and Spain, and Portugal, and Ireland...) that put the credibility of the Eurozone at stake; and secondly, chronic financial mismanagement by banks that dug themselves, like Greece and Italy, into a very big hole.
Both Germany and France were the primary architects of the plan on the table to stabilise the financial and governmental system.
Let's remind ourselves that the main reason that the likes of Greece and Italy were allowed to get themselves into this mess was because at the foundation of the Euro there were not strong measures to ensure safety across all Eurozone countries; in other words, there was one currency, but no effective controls at a national level. A more common sense approach would have been to take the same appoach with joining the Euro as with new members joining the EU: if you can't follow the rules, then don't join until you can. Put in this light, Merkel's idea of setting a supra-national financial policy through the Eurozone is pure common sense, righting a wrong made at the birth of the Euro that contributed to the crisis in the first place.
The failure of many European and British banks to follow the most basic rules of economics (not to borrow more than you earn) was the other main factor to the Euro-crisis. Nicholas Sarkozy was the main proponent for the idea of having a stronger regulation of the banking industry across the continent in order to prevent banks from repeating the same mistakes (as they are wont to do). As British banks were the least-regulated in Europe, and, not coincidentally, the worst culprits of irresponsible casino banking, they were the most to blame for this problem (and, therefore, those with the most to fear from regulation).
These two proposals, then, have the benefit of making another financial crisis less likely, at least in theory. Regardless of what views you may have over sovereignty (and in the inter-connected 21st century, that term is increasingly losing its relevance), these proposals would make the EU a safer place to do business.
That's the context of the Euro-crisis. David Cameron, as the Prime Minister of the UK, was at the meeting to discuss these new powers (and the emergence of a new treaty to enforce it), and Britain's role to play. Before going to the meeting, he had promised he would use the veto (as any treaty cannot go ahead with all member states agreeing to it) to block these measures if they damaged the British national interest.
The point here is: what IS in the British national interest in this situation? To allow the continued de-regulation of the British banking industry? It appears that Cameron's thinking was purely on these lines: to protect The City of London at all costs. But does The City produce most of our exports (60% of which go to the EU)? The financial sector, at its height about five years ago, represented ten percent of the overall economy (in itself a lot compared to most other countries); but what about the other ninety percent?
In other words, Cameron, by using the veto, made it absolutely clear to European leaders, as well as his own British voters, that he is focused on the boys in The City, and has forgotten about everyone else that contributes to the British economy, and trades with Europe. By his actions on Friday morning, he has reinforced the stereotype that he is aloof from everyday British interests, even the average business that trades with Europe.
Then there is the issue of his party. It is true that even before leaving for the summit he had put himself in an impossible position back home: if he didn't produce the veto, his own party MPs would have been incensed and many would probably have begun plotting for a leadership challenge, in a repeat of John Major's misfortune back in the '90s. The problem Cameron has is that what Major once called "The Bastards" (a small number of strongly Euro-sceptic MPS) are now a significant number in his party, many of whom were elected only last year, so have no established sense of loyalty to the leadership.
By producing the veto Cameron has simply shown that he has caved in to the short-termist interests of The City (who also provide a great deal of financial support to the Tories), and the knee-jerk interests of his party. Cameron has proven himself to be a puppet; nothing more.
Then there is the way in which Cameron dealt with the negotiations themselves. When Gordon Brown was Prime Minister, he may well have been mocked at home, but was at least well-respected abroad, due to his management of the crisis. Sarkozy once famously told him: "I don't know what it is about you, Gordon, but somehow, I love you". By contrast, it seems that Sarkozy has nothing but disdain for Cameron. It seems also clear that the treaty vote that took place the other day was a real "do-or-die" moment for Europe, in particular the UK.
Sarkozy seems to have taken George W Bush's famous "you're-with-us-or-against-us" approach with Cameron: either sign the treaty, or get lost. Therefore, it was not Cameron who showed strength in using the veto; it was Sarkozy who forced Cameron into that position. Sarkozy is as wily as a fox in European politics, but has a savage bite to match. What's so worrying about Cameron's approach to European politics is a clear lack of knowledge or diplomacy about how to deal with these kinds of complex issues; he failed to even make a serious attempt to find out before the meeting what potential allies he had on his stance against the financial reforms. What some Conservatives might call "Bulldog Spirit" just seems like stubborn stupidity to Europeans.
No other Prime Minister has ever had to resort to using a veto in Europe. Even Margaret Thatcher was able to find a compromise; so was John Major. It is true that Sarkozy was in a stubborn mood over regulation, but still, a more experienced and skilled operator would have been able find some kind of way out that perserved Britain's status, but also could act as a way forward. That's the nature of negotiation: you negotiate. It's also worth remembering that all the EU's policies are decided in this way: there is no "diktat" as such, because all policies are the result of negotiation and supra-national compromise - this is the price of co-operation.
It seems that the experience of those five days in May last year, those long discussions and compromises that Cameron made to get a first taste of power with the LibDems, were all forgotten early on Friday morning. It's sad to think that Sarkozy and Cameron were the two prominent national leaders that worked together the most to bring about military action in Libya only nine months ago; there was none of that spirit of co-operation and careful negotiation on Friday. In that sense, Cameron is useless at European politics.
This now lives Britain in a special Euro-club of one. Cameron's failure to reach a compromise in Europe leaves Britain's position in Europe more danger than ever thought possible. Although still in the EU, thanks to Cameron, Britain is now officially in the second tier, with no-one to keep us company. So by his actions, Cameron has not only removed Britian's voice from the main table, but still powerless to complain about what actions the EU has that affect us; in other words, as long as we are in the EU, it still has influence on us, but we have less influence on it, as we are now a second-class European power.
More worryingly, by pandering to the Eurosceptics in his party, Cameron has simply traded the accusation of Chamberlain-esque "appeasement" to Europe, for appeasement to the lunatics in his own party. By doing so, he has surely opened up a can of worms; not Margaret Thatcher, nor even John Major, did that. Now they have tasted blood - what's next? The calls from his wilder backbenchers may well move on to the next bone of contention: getting out of the EU altogther. And let's not forget that Cameron owes his position as Prime Minister due to the co-operation of his coaltion partners, the LibDems, on paper the most pro-European party in parliament. Large numbers of their party are now livid with their leader, Nick Clegg, for allowing Cameron to take the position he did at the negotiations.
So, for the sake of appeasing the wilder members of his party, and the short-term interests of The City, Cameron has put Britain in a new, second-class position in the EU, and also created a huge (potentially splitting) headache within his own coalition government.
Well done, Dave.
Monday, December 5, 2011
Why Russia Doesn't Understand The West
In a class at my college the other day, I was talking about the Arab Spring (in particular, the fall of Gaddafi), and one of my Russian-speaking students pointed out that, as he was told by the media in his country, Gaddafi had provided cheap petrol and no taxes for his subjects. The reason he was removed, as he had understood, was because of Western imperialism.
In another class at my college the other week, I was talking about climate change, and the Russian-speaking students in the class were quick to talk up the climate change sceptics, and the many scientists who had questioned the validity of the generally-accepted consensus view. To counter this, I showed them a clip from Al Gore's "An Inconvenient Truth" (though I forgot to show them the part where Al G0re explains the inspriration for the title - the Soviet way of dealing with facts that didn't fit the "party line").
These two anecdotes exemplify a common thread in Russian thinking to Western thought and Western actions: instinctive suspicion and a liking for conspiracy theories.
From a Western point of view, the likes of Europe and the USA often are baffled by Russia's cold shoulder. To Western eyes, Russia is not so much different from the rest of Western civilisation: ethnically European, Christian, educated, a large drinking culture, sexually free-thinking, and so on.
What, then, is the problem? Two factors that decide a national culture are geography and history.
It's best to go back through a brief history to put things into perspective. The culture of "conspiracy theories" goes back a long way on Russian history, long before the Soviet Union made them almost official government policy. Even the rise of anti-Semitism in Europe in the late 19th and early 20th century, originated in Russia, encouraged by the ultra-conservative Orthodox church, even infecting the psychology of the Tsar and his family. A famous inflammatory pamphlet, "The Protocols Of The Elders Of Zion", fed paranoia about the Jews, then very successfully exported to a politically-fragile Germany after the fall of Tsarist Russia to the Bolsheviks. The rest is history.
The "conspiracy theory" tendency is long in Russian culture, and can be directly traced back to the legacy left by the Byzantines on Russia.
It is no coincidence that Moscow calls itself the "Third Rome" (although some call Washington DC the same these days, the original title, goes back centuries); called this after the "Second Rome", the Byzantine capital Constantinople, had been overrun by the Ottoman Turks.
The rise of Russia as a European power mirrors the decline and fall of the once-great empire of Byzantine Constantiople, which had been for nearly a thousand years the richest, largest and most important metropolis in Christian Europe. The national emblem of Russia is the double-headed eagle; the same that was that for the Byzantines. After the fall of Constantinople, the Greek Emperor's neice married the Russian prince; therefore saving the blood line of the Byzantines, and giving inspiration to the Russians to continue the torch of the Greek's legacy. Russia grew from a minor power at that time, over the centuries to become the largest land empire in the world; as it still remains, in effect, today.
So Russian culture, and in particular, high culture, was originally (in spite of Peter The Great's efforts, and the later use of French as the language of the Russian court) influenced by Greek (Byzantine) thought and temperament.
This leads, more longwindedly, to where the real suspicion of the West comes from, and the long-used claims of "imperialism". The Byzantines themselves were, for nearly a thousand years, the dominant Christian power in Europe, who had continued the direct culture of the Roman Empire (to the extent that they always called themselves "Romans", and called their empire the "Roman Empire" - the term "Byzantine" only having came about a few centuries after the fall of Constantinople); as a result they considered Western Europe to be inhabited by uncouth "barbarians"; Christan, yes, but uncultured and illiterate compared to them.
The Crusades caused the real crisis for the Greeks, as the Byzantine empire, due to its geography, was a large buffer between the (Muslim) Middle East and (Christian) Europe. Consequently, distrust was endemic between the Western Crusaders and the Orthodox Greeks, because both sides wanted different outcomes: the Greeks wanted the Crusaders to help restore lands that had been occupied by Muslims; the Crusaders wanted the very same lands for their own glory, and be damned to the "Orthodox" Greeks.
So as the geography of the Byzantine empire resulted often necessitated in a more pragmatic approach to its eastern and southern neighbours in the Middle East (to the bafflement and consternation of the West), the same can be said of Russia and its relationship to its southern neighbours (with the West these days feeling much the same way).
There had been times when the Byzantines and the West co-operated; but these were always brief, against the grain, and always unpopular on the streets of Constantinople, who were proud of their ancient culture, and would rather hang than be pawns to the "barbarians" of the West.
There have been times when the Russians and West co-operated; but the most recent example was this was during the time of Boris Yeltsin (when joining NATO was, briefly, seriously considered by Russia); but these were days when Russia was politically and economically weak, and very much a real pawn in a wider geo-political game of chess at the time. Since that time, Russia has been ruled by a real geo-political Grand Master, Vladimir Putin, and Russia has regained its world status.
So Russia will probably never understand the West, and vice versa, because, for all their similarities, the long history and simple geography give Russia different priorities. It will likely continue to scupper plans for the West to have regime change in Iran, because it causes them very real geo-politial concerns of encirclement; likewise, it will continue to quietly support "rogue regimes" like Syria because Russia's own press is effectively state-censored and Russia's ruling elite is terrified that Russians might get the idea to create their own "democratic revolution" - another idea being exported from the 21st-century Crusaders of the West.
As Russia sees it, they don't need "democracy" - code for Western interference; somewhat like how the Byzantines didn't need "church union" with the Catholic pope in Rome - code for being pawns to Western barbarians.
The irony of the Crusades was that it was originally a Byzantine idea; in the end, though, they got more than they bargained for. The First Crusade was in 1097 and "liberated" Jerusalem from Muslim rule; the Fourth Crusade of 1203 saw the Crusaders pillage, burn and loot Constantinople itself, leaving the Byzantine empire a ruined shadow of its former self.
The irony of the "democracy" project is that Russia was one of the first European powers to have a "democratic revolution", in 1917 (although it only lasted for less than nine months, before the Bolsheviks took over); no wonder the current Russian administration is looking at the goings on in the Middle East with continuing anxiety - how long before its own population picks up the "democratic revolution" virus?
As it happens, as we speak, there are increasing numbers of ordinary Russians, like those in the Middle East, losing their fear, out of frustration at a corrupt and ineffective state. No wonder then, that the Russian intelligensia are so keen to curse the West.
The Greeks probably know exactly how they feel.
In another class at my college the other week, I was talking about climate change, and the Russian-speaking students in the class were quick to talk up the climate change sceptics, and the many scientists who had questioned the validity of the generally-accepted consensus view. To counter this, I showed them a clip from Al Gore's "An Inconvenient Truth" (though I forgot to show them the part where Al G0re explains the inspriration for the title - the Soviet way of dealing with facts that didn't fit the "party line").
These two anecdotes exemplify a common thread in Russian thinking to Western thought and Western actions: instinctive suspicion and a liking for conspiracy theories.
From a Western point of view, the likes of Europe and the USA often are baffled by Russia's cold shoulder. To Western eyes, Russia is not so much different from the rest of Western civilisation: ethnically European, Christian, educated, a large drinking culture, sexually free-thinking, and so on.
What, then, is the problem? Two factors that decide a national culture are geography and history.
It's best to go back through a brief history to put things into perspective. The culture of "conspiracy theories" goes back a long way on Russian history, long before the Soviet Union made them almost official government policy. Even the rise of anti-Semitism in Europe in the late 19th and early 20th century, originated in Russia, encouraged by the ultra-conservative Orthodox church, even infecting the psychology of the Tsar and his family. A famous inflammatory pamphlet, "The Protocols Of The Elders Of Zion", fed paranoia about the Jews, then very successfully exported to a politically-fragile Germany after the fall of Tsarist Russia to the Bolsheviks. The rest is history.
The "conspiracy theory" tendency is long in Russian culture, and can be directly traced back to the legacy left by the Byzantines on Russia.
It is no coincidence that Moscow calls itself the "Third Rome" (although some call Washington DC the same these days, the original title, goes back centuries); called this after the "Second Rome", the Byzantine capital Constantinople, had been overrun by the Ottoman Turks.
The rise of Russia as a European power mirrors the decline and fall of the once-great empire of Byzantine Constantiople, which had been for nearly a thousand years the richest, largest and most important metropolis in Christian Europe. The national emblem of Russia is the double-headed eagle; the same that was that for the Byzantines. After the fall of Constantinople, the Greek Emperor's neice married the Russian prince; therefore saving the blood line of the Byzantines, and giving inspiration to the Russians to continue the torch of the Greek's legacy. Russia grew from a minor power at that time, over the centuries to become the largest land empire in the world; as it still remains, in effect, today.
So Russian culture, and in particular, high culture, was originally (in spite of Peter The Great's efforts, and the later use of French as the language of the Russian court) influenced by Greek (Byzantine) thought and temperament.
This leads, more longwindedly, to where the real suspicion of the West comes from, and the long-used claims of "imperialism". The Byzantines themselves were, for nearly a thousand years, the dominant Christian power in Europe, who had continued the direct culture of the Roman Empire (to the extent that they always called themselves "Romans", and called their empire the "Roman Empire" - the term "Byzantine" only having came about a few centuries after the fall of Constantinople); as a result they considered Western Europe to be inhabited by uncouth "barbarians"; Christan, yes, but uncultured and illiterate compared to them.
The Crusades caused the real crisis for the Greeks, as the Byzantine empire, due to its geography, was a large buffer between the (Muslim) Middle East and (Christian) Europe. Consequently, distrust was endemic between the Western Crusaders and the Orthodox Greeks, because both sides wanted different outcomes: the Greeks wanted the Crusaders to help restore lands that had been occupied by Muslims; the Crusaders wanted the very same lands for their own glory, and be damned to the "Orthodox" Greeks.
So as the geography of the Byzantine empire resulted often necessitated in a more pragmatic approach to its eastern and southern neighbours in the Middle East (to the bafflement and consternation of the West), the same can be said of Russia and its relationship to its southern neighbours (with the West these days feeling much the same way).
There had been times when the Byzantines and the West co-operated; but these were always brief, against the grain, and always unpopular on the streets of Constantinople, who were proud of their ancient culture, and would rather hang than be pawns to the "barbarians" of the West.
There have been times when the Russians and West co-operated; but the most recent example was this was during the time of Boris Yeltsin (when joining NATO was, briefly, seriously considered by Russia); but these were days when Russia was politically and economically weak, and very much a real pawn in a wider geo-political game of chess at the time. Since that time, Russia has been ruled by a real geo-political Grand Master, Vladimir Putin, and Russia has regained its world status.
So Russia will probably never understand the West, and vice versa, because, for all their similarities, the long history and simple geography give Russia different priorities. It will likely continue to scupper plans for the West to have regime change in Iran, because it causes them very real geo-politial concerns of encirclement; likewise, it will continue to quietly support "rogue regimes" like Syria because Russia's own press is effectively state-censored and Russia's ruling elite is terrified that Russians might get the idea to create their own "democratic revolution" - another idea being exported from the 21st-century Crusaders of the West.
As Russia sees it, they don't need "democracy" - code for Western interference; somewhat like how the Byzantines didn't need "church union" with the Catholic pope in Rome - code for being pawns to Western barbarians.
The irony of the Crusades was that it was originally a Byzantine idea; in the end, though, they got more than they bargained for. The First Crusade was in 1097 and "liberated" Jerusalem from Muslim rule; the Fourth Crusade of 1203 saw the Crusaders pillage, burn and loot Constantinople itself, leaving the Byzantine empire a ruined shadow of its former self.
The irony of the "democracy" project is that Russia was one of the first European powers to have a "democratic revolution", in 1917 (although it only lasted for less than nine months, before the Bolsheviks took over); no wonder the current Russian administration is looking at the goings on in the Middle East with continuing anxiety - how long before its own population picks up the "democratic revolution" virus?
As it happens, as we speak, there are increasing numbers of ordinary Russians, like those in the Middle East, losing their fear, out of frustration at a corrupt and ineffective state. No wonder then, that the Russian intelligensia are so keen to curse the West.
The Greeks probably know exactly how they feel.
Monday, November 28, 2011
The Reluctant Empress and The Fallen Eagle
As the contemporary Eurozone appears as a neo-Holy Roman Empire, it is only fair to draw comment on the conduct of its "Emperor" (or "Empress"), Angela Merkel of Germany.
The current state of the Eurozone puts Germany in a morally awkward position. Having long recovered its status since the Second World War as the economic centre of Europe, its status as the home of the ECB and Europe's economic sentinel puts it in a position of unrivalled power compared to its Eurozone co-partners.
The awkwardness comes from the fact that since the fall of Hitler, Germans have been psychologically hard-wired to resist any temptation to use its strategic and economic muscle beyond its boundaries. The idea of a potential (Eurozone) "Fourth Reich" no doubt brings out most Germans in a cold sweat; their instinct is for pacifist non-intervention and stepping out of the spotlight at the earliest opportunity, as though they are terrified that somehow a jack-booted storm-trooper lies just under their skins, ready to burst out.
This thinking can be seen in the words and actions of the neo-Holy Roman Empress, Angela Merkel. As the governments of the Mediterranean collapse one after another, they are replaced by (non-elected) administrations that happen to fit the wishes of the Holy Roman Empress; she wishes exactly what the markets wish for: a return to fiscal sanity in the regimes south of the Alps. And while those new (imposed) regimes are there to sort out their respective financial mess, they still ask for further help from the Empress.
And the Empress Angela, partly for reasons of financial principle, and partly (it appears) out of fear of appearing too dictatorial, shies away from any thought of doing more for her southern clients. The mere thought of her being able to have such power over the fate of other nations, and using it, brings her, like her compatriots, out in a metaphorical cold sweat.
There are some odd comparisons to the attitude that Emperor Angela has to her new, financially-dependent, Southern European clients, and that which the USA had to the rest of the world prior to the First World War.
By the start of the 20th century, the USA was an empire in all but name, in that it possessed colonial dependencies (recently won from Spain), and was a world power of increasing influence. In spite of that, many Americans were (and still are) in denial about their imperial status. They were loathe to interfere in affairs beyond their immediate vicinity, notwithstanding what the first President of the American Empire, Theodore Roosevelt, called "policing" in the Western Hemisphere - such as the creation of the Panama canal (by supporting Panama's independence from Mexico), amongst others. It took the First World War, and the European Powers' mass suicide of the First World War, to get the American Empire to take an interest in what happened beyond its shores.
Likewise, it may well take the even more drastic financial collapse of Italy, Greece or Spain, for the Empress Angela to realise that Germany may well eventually have to grasp the nettle of financial responsibility for the rest of the Eurozone, come what may. Like it or not, Germany may eventually have to realise the reality of it's own financial "White Man's Burden" - The Reluctant Empress may have to accept her imperial financial obligations, and rule the fiscal roost over Italy and Greece, regardless of her feelings on the matter.
There is one more take on this issue: that the financial perspective that Angela Merkel takes on the bailouts of Italy and Greece is remarkably similar to that of the Republicans' view of how to deal with the American economy. Merkel believes that the way of dealing with Italy and Greece's economic mismanagement is not to help them (through an injection of foreign funds), but to force them to deal with the issue by themselves (through cutting government expenditure); likewise, the Republicans' believe that the way of dealing with the American economy is not to help it (through a federal injection of funds), but to force the government to deal with the issue on its own (through cutting government expenditure).
This issue of financial responsibility brings into sharp light the reality of America and Europe in the 21st century; that, from a financial point of view, they are run in more or less a similar manner, with similar issues of sovereignty over fiscal responsibility.
In other words, the EU/Eurozone and the USA are both post-modern empires built on some kind of federal structure.
The former is ran in a similar way to the medieval Holy Roman Empire: a loose, semi-autonomous network of minor states and princelings, held together by an imperial figurehead, whose power is more important within the Empire than without.
The latter is ran more like the Roman Empire of ancient times; divided into clearly-marked provinces ("states") with their own governor, but ultimately held accountable to an imperial centre ("Washington DC"), ruled by a Emperor who, counter-intuitively, has more say, and usually more interest, in foreign affairs than those within the confines of the Empire.
In that sense, like the Holy Roman Emperor of medival times, Empress Angela has more clout within the Eurozone that she does compared to the influence she has on other imperial world leaders. Conversely, like the Roman Emperor of ancient times, Emperor Barack has more influence on world affairs than he does in his own squabbling Senate.
This makes these two major Western powers of the 21st century, facing each other on opposite sides of the Atlantic, political giants but also political deadweights, in some ways, compared to the likes of China or Russia.
The European Empire of Empress Angela is too concerned about its own parochial intricacies to allow its figurehead be taken seriously by the rest of the world; at the same time, the American Empire of Emperor Barack may well be taken seriously by the rest of the world, but the relentless machinations of his fractious political elite prevent him from fully taking advantage of it.
Thus Western civilisation is represented on the world stage by a Reluctant Empress and a Fallen Eagle.
The current state of the Eurozone puts Germany in a morally awkward position. Having long recovered its status since the Second World War as the economic centre of Europe, its status as the home of the ECB and Europe's economic sentinel puts it in a position of unrivalled power compared to its Eurozone co-partners.
The awkwardness comes from the fact that since the fall of Hitler, Germans have been psychologically hard-wired to resist any temptation to use its strategic and economic muscle beyond its boundaries. The idea of a potential (Eurozone) "Fourth Reich" no doubt brings out most Germans in a cold sweat; their instinct is for pacifist non-intervention and stepping out of the spotlight at the earliest opportunity, as though they are terrified that somehow a jack-booted storm-trooper lies just under their skins, ready to burst out.
This thinking can be seen in the words and actions of the neo-Holy Roman Empress, Angela Merkel. As the governments of the Mediterranean collapse one after another, they are replaced by (non-elected) administrations that happen to fit the wishes of the Holy Roman Empress; she wishes exactly what the markets wish for: a return to fiscal sanity in the regimes south of the Alps. And while those new (imposed) regimes are there to sort out their respective financial mess, they still ask for further help from the Empress.
And the Empress Angela, partly for reasons of financial principle, and partly (it appears) out of fear of appearing too dictatorial, shies away from any thought of doing more for her southern clients. The mere thought of her being able to have such power over the fate of other nations, and using it, brings her, like her compatriots, out in a metaphorical cold sweat.
There are some odd comparisons to the attitude that Emperor Angela has to her new, financially-dependent, Southern European clients, and that which the USA had to the rest of the world prior to the First World War.
By the start of the 20th century, the USA was an empire in all but name, in that it possessed colonial dependencies (recently won from Spain), and was a world power of increasing influence. In spite of that, many Americans were (and still are) in denial about their imperial status. They were loathe to interfere in affairs beyond their immediate vicinity, notwithstanding what the first President of the American Empire, Theodore Roosevelt, called "policing" in the Western Hemisphere - such as the creation of the Panama canal (by supporting Panama's independence from Mexico), amongst others. It took the First World War, and the European Powers' mass suicide of the First World War, to get the American Empire to take an interest in what happened beyond its shores.
Likewise, it may well take the even more drastic financial collapse of Italy, Greece or Spain, for the Empress Angela to realise that Germany may well eventually have to grasp the nettle of financial responsibility for the rest of the Eurozone, come what may. Like it or not, Germany may eventually have to realise the reality of it's own financial "White Man's Burden" - The Reluctant Empress may have to accept her imperial financial obligations, and rule the fiscal roost over Italy and Greece, regardless of her feelings on the matter.
There is one more take on this issue: that the financial perspective that Angela Merkel takes on the bailouts of Italy and Greece is remarkably similar to that of the Republicans' view of how to deal with the American economy. Merkel believes that the way of dealing with Italy and Greece's economic mismanagement is not to help them (through an injection of foreign funds), but to force them to deal with the issue by themselves (through cutting government expenditure); likewise, the Republicans' believe that the way of dealing with the American economy is not to help it (through a federal injection of funds), but to force the government to deal with the issue on its own (through cutting government expenditure).
This issue of financial responsibility brings into sharp light the reality of America and Europe in the 21st century; that, from a financial point of view, they are run in more or less a similar manner, with similar issues of sovereignty over fiscal responsibility.
In other words, the EU/Eurozone and the USA are both post-modern empires built on some kind of federal structure.
The former is ran in a similar way to the medieval Holy Roman Empire: a loose, semi-autonomous network of minor states and princelings, held together by an imperial figurehead, whose power is more important within the Empire than without.
The latter is ran more like the Roman Empire of ancient times; divided into clearly-marked provinces ("states") with their own governor, but ultimately held accountable to an imperial centre ("Washington DC"), ruled by a Emperor who, counter-intuitively, has more say, and usually more interest, in foreign affairs than those within the confines of the Empire.
In that sense, like the Holy Roman Emperor of medival times, Empress Angela has more clout within the Eurozone that she does compared to the influence she has on other imperial world leaders. Conversely, like the Roman Emperor of ancient times, Emperor Barack has more influence on world affairs than he does in his own squabbling Senate.
This makes these two major Western powers of the 21st century, facing each other on opposite sides of the Atlantic, political giants but also political deadweights, in some ways, compared to the likes of China or Russia.
The European Empire of Empress Angela is too concerned about its own parochial intricacies to allow its figurehead be taken seriously by the rest of the world; at the same time, the American Empire of Emperor Barack may well be taken seriously by the rest of the world, but the relentless machinations of his fractious political elite prevent him from fully taking advantage of it.
Thus Western civilisation is represented on the world stage by a Reluctant Empress and a Fallen Eagle.
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Demarchy - Democracy without the "demos" problem?
Democracy these days is having quite a tough time trying to live up to its reputation in the developed world.
The other day I wrote about the recent fate of the democratic governments of Italy and Greece, ousted under foreign economic pressures, to be replaced by technocracies.
(A technocracy, by the way, is government by bureaucrats and "experts" - the kind of government the civil service in the developed world would love to have, if they didn't have the hassle of democratic elections to get in the way of the decision-making process)
Meanwhile, other autocratic regimes, such as Saudi Arabia, Russia and China, seem to be doing very well without a properly-functioning democratic system, if they have one at all. Outside of Europe and North America, the only major world economic powers that are (fairly) well functioning democracies and are economically stable with a likely good future to look to, are India and Brazil.
All this makes you wonder why people still put up with democratic government at all; it's messy, prone to instability, suffers from the threat of continual ugly compromises. The example of Greece and Italy may well add to the scepticism that the Eastern giants (such as China, Russia and Saudi) have towards any steps in the democratic direction.
After all, it could be argued that it was the constant pressure of the democratic process that put Italy and Greece's politicians on the slippery slide into granting their electors whatever irrational wish they had, regardless of the cost. If those country's politicians were weak, it might be argued, that was simply because they reflected the weak will of their populations to deal with reality.
Of course, that depends on the politicians and the people of any democratic country; if the people and politicians are both irrational, then by definition, democracy quickly becomes dysfunctional - infact, it may not even be called "democracy", but rather could be something technically called "Ochlocracy" - Mob Rule, to you and me, where government is at the whim of every protest group, interest group and one-issue party that has the largest voice at any given moment.
The main functional problem that many see with even "rational" democracy is that in order to become elected, a person has to become known to the public; this necessitates the formation of parties that broadly reflect that person's views, unless that individual is extremely rich.
Those parties then develop their own interests, sometimes they scheme together to gain power or influence decision-making, and after a short while, many ordinary voters see a "political class" that seems seperate from them. Hence in the USA you have "the Beltway", a term to describe all decisions and actions carried out by the elected politicians in a faraway and disconnected capital; in Europe, "Brussels" has much the same character.
There is another system, that was tried with positive results, most recently in medieval Venice (and in ancient Greece), that has been called "Demarchy": where governing officials are not voted into office at all; instead, they are appointed at random from the electors.
This might sound perfectly insane, but there are some immediate differences that can be seen with this system compared to democratic election.
For a start, the "party system" that is a necessary evil in democracy, becomes totally irrelevant if government officials are chosen at random. A persons opinions, income, background, or any other factor, are not counted for or against them, and besides, campaigning would be pointless, because there is no "election", only selection.
(At this point, it might be fair to add that there perhaps could be some minimal criteria to qualifying for governmental selection: age, minimal residential requirements, and so on; though this may be no more than would be expected for someone to qualify for jury duty)
It also makes the job of goverment cheaper: no party funding, no election campaign costs. Furthermore, as the people in government will have only just entered for the first (and probably only) time, they should instinctively have no special interest to be able to promote (as they would not have had the time to do so; and besides, any of the other potential government members would be able to oppose any special interest in government). Although it may be practically impossible to stop this from happening entirely, it certainly should reduce the risks to a minimum.
One possible criticism of this method is that if the people selected all chose to act (as a group or individually) in their own interests for their term in office, then things would quickly become dysfunctional; that said, the very fact that they would lose their position next time around should also make any potential wrongdoers think carefully about how the rest of the public would react to them once they became "civilians" once again - unless the culprits chose a self-imposed exile. In that sense, it would be in the selected goverment's own interests to attend to the public's concerns.
Another obvious point is the potential danger of allowing people without suitable education and experience to the reigns of government. Democracy, so its proponents say, is good for seperating the wheat from the chaff. Well, that may be so much of time, but even the system of democratic election serves its fair number of regrettable results - again, it all depends on the rationale of the electors, as we have seen over the years in Italy and Greece.
One way around that problem could be to have a stable civil service, or shadow "technocracy" that could be also selected in a similar random manner to the "regular" government, albeit using more stringent criteria to be eligible for selection (based on a higher level of qualifications and experience) - by definition it would therefore be from a smaller base of potential candidates (in the tens of thousands rather than the millions, for example). The function of this "technocracy" would be to act as a counterweight to the potential drawbacks in the "common" selected government; namely, the slight risk that the government taken from the general population could make an instinctive or poorly-reasoned decision.
Therefore, a little like in the USA, you would have two arms of government of equal stature: a general cabinet, and a technocratic cabinet, working together where necessary to reach a common agreement.
How often, and in what way, could these positions be selected?
The best compromise as I see it would be to have local governments, national "civilian" government, and the "technocrat" government selected at different periods and for different terms in office - for example, local government every four years, national "common" government every four years, and the "technocrat" government every five years.
A further amendment might be to have the selection list for national government come from the existing list of local government officials; that way, anyone who is selected to the national government already has several years experience in dealing with the basic affairs of local bureaucracy; they then will have a better hands-on knowledge of the best methods of dealing with public concerns.
Technocrats' terms in office ought to be longer as, to use the same rationale of the Founding Fathers of the USA, those who are more senior and experienced will have a greater chance to better inform those in the "civilian" government who may benefit from a older hand and wiser head.
So, for example, if country X decided to create this form of Demarchic government in the year 2020 with all three branches of government at the same time the following selections would go as follows:
Local: 2024, 2028, 2032, and so on
Civilian: 2024, 2028, 2032, and so on
Technocrat: 2025, 2030, 2035, and so on
Maybe this all sounds nuts. But every system of government has its benefits and drawbacks.
The other day I wrote about the recent fate of the democratic governments of Italy and Greece, ousted under foreign economic pressures, to be replaced by technocracies.
(A technocracy, by the way, is government by bureaucrats and "experts" - the kind of government the civil service in the developed world would love to have, if they didn't have the hassle of democratic elections to get in the way of the decision-making process)
Meanwhile, other autocratic regimes, such as Saudi Arabia, Russia and China, seem to be doing very well without a properly-functioning democratic system, if they have one at all. Outside of Europe and North America, the only major world economic powers that are (fairly) well functioning democracies and are economically stable with a likely good future to look to, are India and Brazil.
All this makes you wonder why people still put up with democratic government at all; it's messy, prone to instability, suffers from the threat of continual ugly compromises. The example of Greece and Italy may well add to the scepticism that the Eastern giants (such as China, Russia and Saudi) have towards any steps in the democratic direction.
After all, it could be argued that it was the constant pressure of the democratic process that put Italy and Greece's politicians on the slippery slide into granting their electors whatever irrational wish they had, regardless of the cost. If those country's politicians were weak, it might be argued, that was simply because they reflected the weak will of their populations to deal with reality.
Of course, that depends on the politicians and the people of any democratic country; if the people and politicians are both irrational, then by definition, democracy quickly becomes dysfunctional - infact, it may not even be called "democracy", but rather could be something technically called "Ochlocracy" - Mob Rule, to you and me, where government is at the whim of every protest group, interest group and one-issue party that has the largest voice at any given moment.
The main functional problem that many see with even "rational" democracy is that in order to become elected, a person has to become known to the public; this necessitates the formation of parties that broadly reflect that person's views, unless that individual is extremely rich.
Those parties then develop their own interests, sometimes they scheme together to gain power or influence decision-making, and after a short while, many ordinary voters see a "political class" that seems seperate from them. Hence in the USA you have "the Beltway", a term to describe all decisions and actions carried out by the elected politicians in a faraway and disconnected capital; in Europe, "Brussels" has much the same character.
There is another system, that was tried with positive results, most recently in medieval Venice (and in ancient Greece), that has been called "Demarchy": where governing officials are not voted into office at all; instead, they are appointed at random from the electors.
This might sound perfectly insane, but there are some immediate differences that can be seen with this system compared to democratic election.
For a start, the "party system" that is a necessary evil in democracy, becomes totally irrelevant if government officials are chosen at random. A persons opinions, income, background, or any other factor, are not counted for or against them, and besides, campaigning would be pointless, because there is no "election", only selection.
(At this point, it might be fair to add that there perhaps could be some minimal criteria to qualifying for governmental selection: age, minimal residential requirements, and so on; though this may be no more than would be expected for someone to qualify for jury duty)
It also makes the job of goverment cheaper: no party funding, no election campaign costs. Furthermore, as the people in government will have only just entered for the first (and probably only) time, they should instinctively have no special interest to be able to promote (as they would not have had the time to do so; and besides, any of the other potential government members would be able to oppose any special interest in government). Although it may be practically impossible to stop this from happening entirely, it certainly should reduce the risks to a minimum.
One possible criticism of this method is that if the people selected all chose to act (as a group or individually) in their own interests for their term in office, then things would quickly become dysfunctional; that said, the very fact that they would lose their position next time around should also make any potential wrongdoers think carefully about how the rest of the public would react to them once they became "civilians" once again - unless the culprits chose a self-imposed exile. In that sense, it would be in the selected goverment's own interests to attend to the public's concerns.
Another obvious point is the potential danger of allowing people without suitable education and experience to the reigns of government. Democracy, so its proponents say, is good for seperating the wheat from the chaff. Well, that may be so much of time, but even the system of democratic election serves its fair number of regrettable results - again, it all depends on the rationale of the electors, as we have seen over the years in Italy and Greece.
One way around that problem could be to have a stable civil service, or shadow "technocracy" that could be also selected in a similar random manner to the "regular" government, albeit using more stringent criteria to be eligible for selection (based on a higher level of qualifications and experience) - by definition it would therefore be from a smaller base of potential candidates (in the tens of thousands rather than the millions, for example). The function of this "technocracy" would be to act as a counterweight to the potential drawbacks in the "common" selected government; namely, the slight risk that the government taken from the general population could make an instinctive or poorly-reasoned decision.
Therefore, a little like in the USA, you would have two arms of government of equal stature: a general cabinet, and a technocratic cabinet, working together where necessary to reach a common agreement.
How often, and in what way, could these positions be selected?
The best compromise as I see it would be to have local governments, national "civilian" government, and the "technocrat" government selected at different periods and for different terms in office - for example, local government every four years, national "common" government every four years, and the "technocrat" government every five years.
A further amendment might be to have the selection list for national government come from the existing list of local government officials; that way, anyone who is selected to the national government already has several years experience in dealing with the basic affairs of local bureaucracy; they then will have a better hands-on knowledge of the best methods of dealing with public concerns.
Technocrats' terms in office ought to be longer as, to use the same rationale of the Founding Fathers of the USA, those who are more senior and experienced will have a greater chance to better inform those in the "civilian" government who may benefit from a older hand and wiser head.
So, for example, if country X decided to create this form of Demarchic government in the year 2020 with all three branches of government at the same time the following selections would go as follows:
Local: 2024, 2028, 2032, and so on
Civilian: 2024, 2028, 2032, and so on
Technocrat: 2025, 2030, 2035, and so on
Maybe this all sounds nuts. But every system of government has its benefits and drawbacks.
Monday, November 14, 2011
The Decline And Fall of The Roman Empire, And The Rise Of The New Holy Roman Empire
History is full of dejavu.
The politics of Europe of the early 21st century is really not so much different from that of Europe in the 11th century.
The recent histories of the modern states of Italy and Greece, and that of France and Germany, contrast oddly with their more medieval counterparts; the Holy Roman Empire, the Papacy (and Italian city-states), and the Byzantine Empire.
The Treaty of Rome, signed in the 1950s, created the prototype for the EU, beginning with the core members, France and Germany. After the moral and economic wreckage of the Second World War, hitherto mortal enemies France and Germany vowed to a future of economic alliance. Italy, amongst others, joined this association some years later, followed by Greece.
This suited all parties well, and then this association became a formal economic union with one currency. And this is where it became much more complicated. While Germany and France were the two strongest powers on Continental Europe - a contemporary "Holy Roman Empire", economically joined at the hip - Italy and Greece, the two ancient imperial powers, had been economic basket cases since the Second World War.
Both Italy and Greece had been through a succession of elected governments since the war. Greece even had a period of miliary rule. But both countries' governments, especially in the last forty years upto the 2008-11 financial crisis, utterly failed to manage their countries responsibly. In stark contrast to Germany, whose economy was destroyed after the Second World War, yet had gone from strength to strength, the ancien regimes of the Med, Italy and Greece, had gone from modest growth to profligate insanity.
Both Greece and Italy's problems were essentially the same, albeit that Italy's were much worse as their economy was much bigger than Greece's. Their governments, until very recently, had run their countries as a weak parent appeases and spoils an errant and tantrum-throwing child: the state provided generous subsidies and pensions, because they didn't want pensioners and unions marching on the street; the state turned a blind eye to rampant tax evasion and corruption because they didn't want the middle-classes and shopkeepers on the streets.
In other words, the Greek and Italian governments were repeating the same mistakes that all failing empires in history made - through governmental weakness, allowing their country to live beyond its means and avoiding the uncomfortable (but inevitable) truth.
So, it came to last week, as the New "Holy Roman Empire" of Europe (the Franco-German economic duopoly) ultimately calls the shots on the Eurozone, called time to Italy and Greece's governments.
Italy's premier, Emperor Silvio (whose title can be sybolically conferred as being the longest ruler of Italy since the time of Mussolini, and since his moral exemplar sometimes seemed to be Caligula), after ruling his state for much of the previous twenty years through corruption, mismanagement, and moral indifference, was forced to symbolically relinquish his crown to Italy's ceremonial President. Then the President, acting in the role once held by the Pope a thousand years ago, shortly after bestowed the title of Italian premier (once called by the name "Emperor of the Romans" in the days of the Papacy) to an Italian bureaucrat experienced in the politics of the Eurozone. In other words, a person far more suitable to the New "Holy Roman Empire" for the sake of European stability.
The same story can be said of Greece: after months of indecision and instability, the Greek premier bowed to the inevitable and resigned, to be replaced by a Greek bureaucrat experienced in the politics of the Eurozone, friendly to the interests of the New "Holy Roman Empire".
It could be argued, then, that what has happened in the ancient imperial territories of Greece and Italy is a kind of New "Holy Roman Empire" economic regime change. That may be so, but niether is that something that should surprise anyone who understands the modern world.
Or, for that matter, the medieval world. The Papacy had been a plaything of the Imperial Powers of Europe, such as the Holy Roman Empire, for centuries, especially around a thousand years ago, when there were Popes and anti-Popes for much of the time. Italy and its city-states were a plaything of Popes, Holy Roman Emperors and Byzantine Emperors (all three of whom, by the way, claimed the title of ruler of the Romans); not long afterwards, the same became true of what is now Greece and the Balkans.
So, who runs Europe these days? The answer is, basically, the same as the answer was a thousand years ago: Germany. A thousand years ago, England was peripheral to the fate of Europe; France was still figuring out where its loyalties lay; Spain was a mess; Eastern Europe was in transition, while Constantinople/Istanbul was maintaining its position economically, and had made diplomatic in-roads in the Middle East.
So what's new? At least Germans these days are pacifists.
The politics of Europe of the early 21st century is really not so much different from that of Europe in the 11th century.
The recent histories of the modern states of Italy and Greece, and that of France and Germany, contrast oddly with their more medieval counterparts; the Holy Roman Empire, the Papacy (and Italian city-states), and the Byzantine Empire.
The Treaty of Rome, signed in the 1950s, created the prototype for the EU, beginning with the core members, France and Germany. After the moral and economic wreckage of the Second World War, hitherto mortal enemies France and Germany vowed to a future of economic alliance. Italy, amongst others, joined this association some years later, followed by Greece.
This suited all parties well, and then this association became a formal economic union with one currency. And this is where it became much more complicated. While Germany and France were the two strongest powers on Continental Europe - a contemporary "Holy Roman Empire", economically joined at the hip - Italy and Greece, the two ancient imperial powers, had been economic basket cases since the Second World War.
Both Italy and Greece had been through a succession of elected governments since the war. Greece even had a period of miliary rule. But both countries' governments, especially in the last forty years upto the 2008-11 financial crisis, utterly failed to manage their countries responsibly. In stark contrast to Germany, whose economy was destroyed after the Second World War, yet had gone from strength to strength, the ancien regimes of the Med, Italy and Greece, had gone from modest growth to profligate insanity.
Both Greece and Italy's problems were essentially the same, albeit that Italy's were much worse as their economy was much bigger than Greece's. Their governments, until very recently, had run their countries as a weak parent appeases and spoils an errant and tantrum-throwing child: the state provided generous subsidies and pensions, because they didn't want pensioners and unions marching on the street; the state turned a blind eye to rampant tax evasion and corruption because they didn't want the middle-classes and shopkeepers on the streets.
In other words, the Greek and Italian governments were repeating the same mistakes that all failing empires in history made - through governmental weakness, allowing their country to live beyond its means and avoiding the uncomfortable (but inevitable) truth.
So, it came to last week, as the New "Holy Roman Empire" of Europe (the Franco-German economic duopoly) ultimately calls the shots on the Eurozone, called time to Italy and Greece's governments.
Italy's premier, Emperor Silvio (whose title can be sybolically conferred as being the longest ruler of Italy since the time of Mussolini, and since his moral exemplar sometimes seemed to be Caligula), after ruling his state for much of the previous twenty years through corruption, mismanagement, and moral indifference, was forced to symbolically relinquish his crown to Italy's ceremonial President. Then the President, acting in the role once held by the Pope a thousand years ago, shortly after bestowed the title of Italian premier (once called by the name "Emperor of the Romans" in the days of the Papacy) to an Italian bureaucrat experienced in the politics of the Eurozone. In other words, a person far more suitable to the New "Holy Roman Empire" for the sake of European stability.
The same story can be said of Greece: after months of indecision and instability, the Greek premier bowed to the inevitable and resigned, to be replaced by a Greek bureaucrat experienced in the politics of the Eurozone, friendly to the interests of the New "Holy Roman Empire".
It could be argued, then, that what has happened in the ancient imperial territories of Greece and Italy is a kind of New "Holy Roman Empire" economic regime change. That may be so, but niether is that something that should surprise anyone who understands the modern world.
Or, for that matter, the medieval world. The Papacy had been a plaything of the Imperial Powers of Europe, such as the Holy Roman Empire, for centuries, especially around a thousand years ago, when there were Popes and anti-Popes for much of the time. Italy and its city-states were a plaything of Popes, Holy Roman Emperors and Byzantine Emperors (all three of whom, by the way, claimed the title of ruler of the Romans); not long afterwards, the same became true of what is now Greece and the Balkans.
So, who runs Europe these days? The answer is, basically, the same as the answer was a thousand years ago: Germany. A thousand years ago, England was peripheral to the fate of Europe; France was still figuring out where its loyalties lay; Spain was a mess; Eastern Europe was in transition, while Constantinople/Istanbul was maintaining its position economically, and had made diplomatic in-roads in the Middle East.
So what's new? At least Germans these days are pacifists.
Labels:
Europe,
financial crisis,
Germany,
Greece,
Italy
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Liverpool - Britain in a microcosm?
Recently we went to Liverpool.
There's something quirky and unmistakeably British about Liverpool. I say this coming from Manchester (and therefore obviously comparing it), which has been modernised and gentrified massively over the last ten or fifteen years. So you might say this is an unfair comparison; but also places like Birmingham, which were previously famously undesireable cities, have received a great deal of investment, such as in the Bull Ring Shopping Centre, and thus have become much more trendy locations.
But I'm digressing. Before talking about details of the city, a couple of observations that stick in my mind. I remember watching a documentary about compensation fraud in the UK some years ago, the statistic that really stuck in my mind was that the number of compensation claims in Liverpool was ten times the national average; the highest in the country. So, either Scousers were falling over a lot in the street due to uneven pavements, or...
But I don't want to fall into crude streotypes. The city council of Merseyside is well-known for being one of the most inefficient and profligate in the country; in that sense, Liverpool bears more comparison to Naples, minus the mafiosi.
Evidence of the gloriously inefficent council can be seen throughout the city centre; shopping centres like Clayton Square, St Johns and Queens Square, are found in that gloriously run-down and dowdy part of the centre adjecent to Lime St train station and the bus station - an entire district of the centre that looks like an open air museum of 1993, stuck in a twenty-year-old timewarp.
It's little touches like that which I find strangely endearing: the quirky and unashamedly unfashionable side to Liverpool - shops that in other cities in the UK closed down about fifteen years ago; gift shops in Albert dock that sell unashamed utter crap; pubs a stonethrow's from the main train station that look like they were last refurbished in 1975,with some of the clientele looking like they last had a wash in that year as well; the charmingly indifferent attitude to rubbish; the glorious Victorian pubs that sit alongside the crappiest of crappy bars; some cafes' lovable ignorance to hygiene; I could go on.
Of course, Liverpool was European capital of culture a few years ago. The centre of Liverpool has a huge number of shops; more than I had appreciated until my most recent visit. But one district of the centre, now called "Liverpool ONE" has been a glorious addition to the centre's fabric - an ultra-modern and stylish urban environment that more than competes against Europe's finest retail spaces.
Then there are iconic places like the Albert dock, the two cathedrals and the three graces (Liver building and so on) that have barely altered since first being built, apart from a few cosmetic improvements. Then there's "The Beatles", who continue to be sold to death; and the football; and the Grand National.
In that way, Liverpool, for all it's oddity, is also much truer British city than many others - it has largely retained it's "take-me-as-you-see-me" character (which could also be interpreted as a negative); some foreign tourists have also been at the sharp end of that experience (more on that in a moment).
This leads me to the last icon of Liverpool to mention, which perhaps acts as a microcosm of all that is true of "good old British values" than any other in the city. "Fawlty Towers" was a British comedy icon of a bygone era; but one that still seems to exist, in spirit, in Liverpool's grandest and oldest hotel, The Adelphi.
As Liverpool has the distinction of having the highest rate of compensation claims in the UK, so it seems that the charming old Adelphi hotel has the distinction of being in contention for the most-complained-about "high class" hotel in the UK.
The complaints (which can be seen in all their glory on tripadvisor.com) fall into several areas: indifferent, unhelpful, incompetent and rude staff; dirty, unhygienic and broken fittings and funiture; noisy lifts and environment; hard pillows on tired, old matresses; bland food; being woken by cleaners; I could go on.
This all reminds me of the "good old days" of British hostelry: when service with a smile was an optional extra, food with taste was a novelty, and when the attitude of "mustn't grumble" kept all the lovely, appalling old British hotels in business for years on end.
Yes, I strangely love Liverpool. But maybe I'm a masochist, like many of the British nation.
There's something quirky and unmistakeably British about Liverpool. I say this coming from Manchester (and therefore obviously comparing it), which has been modernised and gentrified massively over the last ten or fifteen years. So you might say this is an unfair comparison; but also places like Birmingham, which were previously famously undesireable cities, have received a great deal of investment, such as in the Bull Ring Shopping Centre, and thus have become much more trendy locations.
But I'm digressing. Before talking about details of the city, a couple of observations that stick in my mind. I remember watching a documentary about compensation fraud in the UK some years ago, the statistic that really stuck in my mind was that the number of compensation claims in Liverpool was ten times the national average; the highest in the country. So, either Scousers were falling over a lot in the street due to uneven pavements, or...
But I don't want to fall into crude streotypes. The city council of Merseyside is well-known for being one of the most inefficient and profligate in the country; in that sense, Liverpool bears more comparison to Naples, minus the mafiosi.
Evidence of the gloriously inefficent council can be seen throughout the city centre; shopping centres like Clayton Square, St Johns and Queens Square, are found in that gloriously run-down and dowdy part of the centre adjecent to Lime St train station and the bus station - an entire district of the centre that looks like an open air museum of 1993, stuck in a twenty-year-old timewarp.
It's little touches like that which I find strangely endearing: the quirky and unashamedly unfashionable side to Liverpool - shops that in other cities in the UK closed down about fifteen years ago; gift shops in Albert dock that sell unashamed utter crap; pubs a stonethrow's from the main train station that look like they were last refurbished in 1975,with some of the clientele looking like they last had a wash in that year as well; the charmingly indifferent attitude to rubbish; the glorious Victorian pubs that sit alongside the crappiest of crappy bars; some cafes' lovable ignorance to hygiene; I could go on.
Of course, Liverpool was European capital of culture a few years ago. The centre of Liverpool has a huge number of shops; more than I had appreciated until my most recent visit. But one district of the centre, now called "Liverpool ONE" has been a glorious addition to the centre's fabric - an ultra-modern and stylish urban environment that more than competes against Europe's finest retail spaces.
Then there are iconic places like the Albert dock, the two cathedrals and the three graces (Liver building and so on) that have barely altered since first being built, apart from a few cosmetic improvements. Then there's "The Beatles", who continue to be sold to death; and the football; and the Grand National.
In that way, Liverpool, for all it's oddity, is also much truer British city than many others - it has largely retained it's "take-me-as-you-see-me" character (which could also be interpreted as a negative); some foreign tourists have also been at the sharp end of that experience (more on that in a moment).
This leads me to the last icon of Liverpool to mention, which perhaps acts as a microcosm of all that is true of "good old British values" than any other in the city. "Fawlty Towers" was a British comedy icon of a bygone era; but one that still seems to exist, in spirit, in Liverpool's grandest and oldest hotel, The Adelphi.
As Liverpool has the distinction of having the highest rate of compensation claims in the UK, so it seems that the charming old Adelphi hotel has the distinction of being in contention for the most-complained-about "high class" hotel in the UK.
The complaints (which can be seen in all their glory on tripadvisor.com) fall into several areas: indifferent, unhelpful, incompetent and rude staff; dirty, unhygienic and broken fittings and funiture; noisy lifts and environment; hard pillows on tired, old matresses; bland food; being woken by cleaners; I could go on.
This all reminds me of the "good old days" of British hostelry: when service with a smile was an optional extra, food with taste was a novelty, and when the attitude of "mustn't grumble" kept all the lovely, appalling old British hotels in business for years on end.
Yes, I strangely love Liverpool. But maybe I'm a masochist, like many of the British nation.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Dale Farm, St Paul's, and a lot of mixed messages
Two items have dominated news in the UK in the past two weeks: the evictions from Dale Farm, and the closure of St Paul's.
What these two things have in common is protests; more exactly, occupations of land. While the circumstances surrounding each are very different, what is more interesting is the amount of varied opinion, and the outcomes, that have resulted from those protests.
The evictions in Dale Farm, to cut a long story short, are about the rights of Gypsies, and what status they have in this country. There were hundreds of protesters at the site to help fight for the Gypsies' "cause" (I saw what looked like a Gypsy "flag" for the first time in my life), and I imagine that many of those protesters were there to defend the right of Gypsies to maintain their way of life unmolested from the state. In other words, many of those protesters were, infact, fighting for an embryonic form of anarchism, that, they imagine, still exists in the Gypsy way of life. That is what many of the protesters seemed to be fighting for; but that core belief was wrong.
Gypsies can never be confused with anarchists, or simplify the Gypsies trying to maintain their "way of life" with the principle of trying to manage a society in a rational way without the need of government (a general definition of anarchism). The reason is this: Gypsies do not manage their situation in a rational way. They do not follow laws. They do not respect the rights of others outside their community.
An interesting comparison would be ancient ethnic communities such as the Native American tribes. These also used to be nomadic, and fought against foreign "civilising" invaders, who over many decades and centuries, lost their lands until they were reduced to "reservations" where they could maintain their way of live.
I say this is an interesting comparison mostly because it is totally opposite to the "way of life" that the Gypsies hold in Europe and in the UK. The only thing that Gypsies and Native Americans share is a general tendency to a nomadic way of life. But even the Native Americans learned to adapt. While their loss of territory was a tragedy few other cultures in recent human history have shared, they still were tenacious enough to hold on to their traditions and a well-defined sense of identity. Gypsies, on the other hand, seem to have only their nomadic life as a clear cultural marker. By definition, they are lost as a culture, literally as well as metaphorically.
But it is difficult for people who live in the countries where Gypsies reside (such as Central and Eastern Europe, as well as in Britain) to have much sympathy for them, and it's not hard to understand why. Not only did the Gypsies migrate to Europe from Asia, they brought their nomadic lifestyle with them. Such a lifestyle went out of fashion more than a thousand years ago in most of Eurasia; in the 21st century, it is utterly impractical.
I don't want to get into the rights and wrongs of nomadic lifestyle per se; any lifestyle choice may be possible if a person at least agrees to abide by the laws and respect the rights of others. But Gypsies are the "irreconcilables" of modern life; their attitude to life is little different to that of a Mongol from the 13th century. Perhaps Gypsies should just go to Mongolia (where there are still many who have a nomadic lifestyle even today); at least they would feel less out of place. Besides, there are only a few tens of thousands of them in the UK; in crowded Britain, they are an annual headache for councils around the country; Mongolia, by contrast, has hundreds of thousands of miles of open wilderness - a Gypsy's paradise.
Talking of rights, this leads me on to the other protest in the news: that at St Paul's. In the former, Dale Farm, the occupation was about land rights, and the council evicting the Gypsies to enforce its will for the sake of the local residents. In the latter the occupation was about the Financial Crisis, and St Paul's cathedral closing because of health and safety concerns; now there is a public debate about whether or not, and how and when, to evict the occupiers camped outside.
That, at least, is the simple answer. In the case of Dale Farm, public opinion was overwhelmingly on the side of the eviction; in the case of St Paul's opinion is more even distributed. There are those on one side who remind us that democratic protest is about being occasionally subjected to uncomfortable situations; this is a more than fair comment. Then there are those who say that the church is there to defend the rights of the needy, as the occupiers claim to, so support the occupation; this is another more than fair comment. There are also those who say that such an occupation outside St Paul's obstructs right of passage of others, for example, in and out of St Paul's and the environs; this is also a fair point. Then there are those in St Paul's itself (the dean who recently resigned in protest, not among them) who say that the cathedral must remain closed to prevent any accidents to people entering St Paul's; this is completely ridiculous.
It comes to something of the "health and safety gone mad" idea, when St Paul's cathedral closes for the sake of a few people possibly tripping up over some tents. To paraphrase the occupiers, what would Jesus say? Who in the clergy decided that these tents should prevent the cathedral losing the revenue of those thousands each day who cough up the 14.50? Who indeed?
Talk about the church getting its messages mixed up: I don't know whether to laugh or cry at the absurdity of the clergy's position. Will they blame the tents and "health and safety concerns" when they refuse to have a Christmas mass, if the occupation remains there for that long? I don't blame the people in the tents - I blame the idiocy of the clergy of St Paul's for using "health and safety" to provoke a public storm over an ingenious form of democratic protest.
It shows us how out of touch much of the church is with the concerns of real people, if it uses "health and safety" over some tents as an excuse to close the capital's cathedral. And it is doubly bizarre to see the media get its messages mixed up when they complain about the tents forcing the closure of the cathedral (without attacking the same "health and safety madness" operating from St Paul's cathedral), then accuse the occupiers of being "part-timers" (sorry, but maybe some of them may have jobs to go to after all?).
And the media accuse the occupiers of having no clear message!
Saturday, October 15, 2011
The "New Ottomanism" and the "New Middle East"
I wrote an article about six months ago comparing the Turkish and Egyptian experiences of democracy. Now that, so to speak, the smoke has cleared a little and the pieces are falling into place after these months of the "Arab Spring", it's a good time to look at what is what and who the "winners" and "losers" are from the events of 2011.
At this point there have been three changes of government in the Arab world since early 2011 (Tunisia, Egypt and Libya, chronologically in that order); one is on the verge of changing, with its leader in self-imposed exile (Yemen); there is continual mass civil unrest in another (Syria); and a fifth government (Bahrain's) only stemmed the threat of continual mas civil unrest by calling on the support of a neighbour's armed forces (Saudi Arabia) to help brutalise and terrify the majority of its citizens (the Shias). A number of other Arab governments (mostly monarchies - such as Jordan, Morocco and Oman) pre-empted mass unrest by granting some modest "democratic" reforms and subsidies.
That's the summary, and it covers most countries in the Middle East. Each of those individual countries' circumstances are unique in their own way, and I don't want to go into that much detail here. I want to look at who the "winners" and "losers" are from these events, what they mean, and their historical context.
Of the ideas I just mentioned, I'll look at each idea in reverse order.
The historical context of the "Arab Spring", while surprising most of the intelligence agencies in the world (or so it seems), with the benefit of hindsight (and a look at the cycle of ideological movements of the last few decades) things start falling into place.
Most "Middle East experts" say that Arab politics had been in a state of inertia after decades of stifling monarchical or military rule. This was because, some said, the Arabs were incapable of controlling themselves under a democratic regime; they point to the proof of the Islamic revolution of 1979 in Iran as proof that Arabs are incapable of "democratic revolution".
The irony here is that, in the case of Iran, they had a "democratic revolution" back in 1953 (around the same time, incidentally, that Abdel Nasser of Egypt got rid of the British-backed king to set up a military dictatorship). But Iran in 1953 was too soon for "real democracy" in the middle of the Cold War, so their elected prime minister was deposed by the West and the Shah put back on the Peacock throne. The Shah eventually proved incapable of governing the country effectively, and there was a broad-based revolution against him in 1979, symbolically headed by Ayatollah Khomeini. However, that "broad-based" revolution was soon hijacked by Islamic clerics, reaching a nadir nine months later with Khomeini backing the storming of the US embassy and a referendum that gave all powers to the Ayatollah.
The rest, in Iran's case, is a familiar story. Iraq under its new dictator, Saddam Hussein (with US backing), went to war with Iran, ending eight years later in a horrendous death toll and pointless stalemate. Iran, fancying a stab at proxy-war, supported Hezbollah in Lebanon against Israel. Iran's Islamic fundamentalist regime now being ostrasized by the US, with the Cold War still in full flow, the US then armed the Islamic fundamentalist fighters in Afghanistan (which included a group called "Al-Qaeda") to fight against Soviet occupation.
With the effective birth of state Islamic fundamentalism in 1979 in Iran, the nineties saw the the political wing of Islam time to grow in this decade amidst the confusion of the post-Soviet world (such as in Chechnya), as well as (briefly) in such countries as Turkey (in the brief rule of the Islamic "Refah" party).
The turn of the century saw a sudden and dramatic turn of tactics by the extreme side of political Islam. "Al-Qaeda" declared war on the US, attacked a US navy vessel in Yemen in 2000, then spectacularly attacked the US homeland with four hijacked planes in 2001. Islamic terrorism then enveloped many parts of the world, and continues to do so up to today.
The "War On Terror" posed a huge question to the Arab nations of the Middle East, with some Arabs becoming inspired to join in the "jihad" (such as in Saudi Arabia and Yemen). Arab governments, encouraged by the "anti-terror" measures being put through by the US government, and worried for their own safety, turned the screw even tighter on their peoples' rights. As instability became the norm across much of the world, this increased prices and a huge spike in the cost of living in the Middle East, especially after the invasion of Iraq in 2003, the resulting occupation, civil strife and insurgency.
So by the end of the 2000s, the Arabs in general were living under regimes that were often not living in the real world; they certainly seemed to act like it, as they were mainly impervious to change, paranoid of dissent, and had a schizophrenic relationship to the West (needing their support economically and diplomatically, but still happy to insult them to their own people for domestic consumption).
Most of the Arab goverments were paranoid of their populations because of the example of Iran that had taken place thirty years before. But, while some of their populations turned to Islamic fundamentalism in either perverse inspiration or desperation, there was another Islamic model that was also on the Arab world's doorstep from another direction: that of Turkey.
Those Turkish politicans who had been involved in the ill-fated administration of the "Refah" party in the mid nineties had learned their lesson by 2001. Recep Tayyip Erdogan, leader of the AK party, was one of them, and he saw that it might be possible to "break the mould" of Turkish politics by producing a mass-supported, more modest, Islamic party that would appeal to the average person.
Although had been a democracy for most of its time as a republic (see my earlier article from six months ago comparing Turkey and Egypt), it also suffered from a straightjacket of a powerful military, an immovable civil code and a strong secular tradition. But in 2002, the AK party easily won the national elections.
The AK government under Erdogan went on to prove the critics at home wrong by creating a vibrant and rapidly expanding Turkish economy, a stable government, and a more balanced foreign policy.
The last point is the one that most interested Arab governments; prior to the AK government, Turkey's relationship to the Middle East (except Israel) was indifferent at best. By the end of the 2000s, Turkey's AK government was paying far more attention to the Arab governments than any previous Turkish government; the AK government's "good neighbour" policy of paying attention to all its neighbouring relations - the EU, Russia, Iran, the Middle East and so on.
Arab rulers probably thought that it was just good business sense on the part of the Turks; what they thought that their populations thought about it may not have been on their mind. If that was the case, it was to be a huge mistake.
So the factors that led to the "Arab Spring" can be traced more exactly: the economic instability caused indirectly by the "War On Terror"; the increased security measures against the native Arab populations (excused by the "War On Terror"); the rise of political Islam and the example of good government and good relations offered by the moderate Islamic government of Turkey. Oh, and also the new possibilities brought about in the last few years through social networking. All it then needed was a spark.
The "Arab Spring", therefore, was a result of the changes in political Islam, radicalised after the 1970s, which (for the majority) had matured by the beginning of the 2000s into something else; less extreme and direct, more pragmatic and moderate. The invasion of Iraq in 2003 had the effect of transplanting an embryonic (if anarchic) democracy in the heart of the Middle East. The argument that this created a positive example for other Arab populations is, putting it politely, unproven. The Middle East for the past thirty years had been dominated by two Islamic fundamentalist powers: Iran and Saudi Arabia; one pro-West, one anti-West. The emergence of Turkey in the last ten years as a regional power changes the game; if Egypt, now more openly democratic, follows the Turkey model as seems likely, then the Middle East will become even more an even playing field rather than a battle of wills between regional powers.
I talked before of "winners" and "losers".
The prime "winner" of the Arab Spring, apart from the Arab populations themselves, is undoubtably Turkey. Turkey is the exemplar that the people behind the "Arab Spring" most readily follow; its influence in the region, already important as a power-broker and an economic bridgehead, is bound to increase. And the wily Turks are never likely to miss an opportunity to make a wide-ranging, long-term economic investment, as can be seen in Libya and elsewhere. Erdogan is the Arab populations' role model, at least until they find their own in their respective countries. This is what is meant by the "New Ottomanism": moderately Islamist Turkey regaining its former power and influence across the wider region more than a century of being either on the sidelines or the pawn of other powers.
Then there are the "losers". Strangely enough, the losers are mutual antagonists: Iran and Israel. The loss of Iranian influence is obvious enough to see; its ideological war to impose and encourage its view of Islam across the Middle East has clearly failed overall. Although there are more extreme Islamic elements within each of the countries touched by the "Arab Spring", they are clearly a minority, and the moderate view is bound to win in the medium and long term. Iran as a power is distrusted by the Arabs in general (except for the Shia Muslims), and the Arab governments in particular. Iran's only real ally in the Middle East, Syria, is fighting its own battles from within, and the ruling regime is utterly discredited. Secondly, Turkey's diplomatic focus on the Arab world, and its canny re-positioning strongly against the human rights violations of the Israeli government (especially after the "Mavi Marmara" incident), puts Israel in a corner. The only Arab government on good terms with Israel had been the former regime of Egypt; no longer. Israel is truly without friends in the Middle East or even in the neighbouring locality.
The "Arab Spring" has also put fresh impetus into the cause of the Palestinians: if the Palestinians were really smart, Israeli Arabs would organise mass demonstrations to bring Israel to a standstill, and use Erdogan as their diplomatic attack dog. That would be something that might make even the unswervingly loyal US question its principles.
At this point there have been three changes of government in the Arab world since early 2011 (Tunisia, Egypt and Libya, chronologically in that order); one is on the verge of changing, with its leader in self-imposed exile (Yemen); there is continual mass civil unrest in another (Syria); and a fifth government (Bahrain's) only stemmed the threat of continual mas civil unrest by calling on the support of a neighbour's armed forces (Saudi Arabia) to help brutalise and terrify the majority of its citizens (the Shias). A number of other Arab governments (mostly monarchies - such as Jordan, Morocco and Oman) pre-empted mass unrest by granting some modest "democratic" reforms and subsidies.
That's the summary, and it covers most countries in the Middle East. Each of those individual countries' circumstances are unique in their own way, and I don't want to go into that much detail here. I want to look at who the "winners" and "losers" are from these events, what they mean, and their historical context.
Of the ideas I just mentioned, I'll look at each idea in reverse order.
The historical context of the "Arab Spring", while surprising most of the intelligence agencies in the world (or so it seems), with the benefit of hindsight (and a look at the cycle of ideological movements of the last few decades) things start falling into place.
Most "Middle East experts" say that Arab politics had been in a state of inertia after decades of stifling monarchical or military rule. This was because, some said, the Arabs were incapable of controlling themselves under a democratic regime; they point to the proof of the Islamic revolution of 1979 in Iran as proof that Arabs are incapable of "democratic revolution".
The irony here is that, in the case of Iran, they had a "democratic revolution" back in 1953 (around the same time, incidentally, that Abdel Nasser of Egypt got rid of the British-backed king to set up a military dictatorship). But Iran in 1953 was too soon for "real democracy" in the middle of the Cold War, so their elected prime minister was deposed by the West and the Shah put back on the Peacock throne. The Shah eventually proved incapable of governing the country effectively, and there was a broad-based revolution against him in 1979, symbolically headed by Ayatollah Khomeini. However, that "broad-based" revolution was soon hijacked by Islamic clerics, reaching a nadir nine months later with Khomeini backing the storming of the US embassy and a referendum that gave all powers to the Ayatollah.
The rest, in Iran's case, is a familiar story. Iraq under its new dictator, Saddam Hussein (with US backing), went to war with Iran, ending eight years later in a horrendous death toll and pointless stalemate. Iran, fancying a stab at proxy-war, supported Hezbollah in Lebanon against Israel. Iran's Islamic fundamentalist regime now being ostrasized by the US, with the Cold War still in full flow, the US then armed the Islamic fundamentalist fighters in Afghanistan (which included a group called "Al-Qaeda") to fight against Soviet occupation.
With the effective birth of state Islamic fundamentalism in 1979 in Iran, the nineties saw the the political wing of Islam time to grow in this decade amidst the confusion of the post-Soviet world (such as in Chechnya), as well as (briefly) in such countries as Turkey (in the brief rule of the Islamic "Refah" party).
The turn of the century saw a sudden and dramatic turn of tactics by the extreme side of political Islam. "Al-Qaeda" declared war on the US, attacked a US navy vessel in Yemen in 2000, then spectacularly attacked the US homeland with four hijacked planes in 2001. Islamic terrorism then enveloped many parts of the world, and continues to do so up to today.
The "War On Terror" posed a huge question to the Arab nations of the Middle East, with some Arabs becoming inspired to join in the "jihad" (such as in Saudi Arabia and Yemen). Arab governments, encouraged by the "anti-terror" measures being put through by the US government, and worried for their own safety, turned the screw even tighter on their peoples' rights. As instability became the norm across much of the world, this increased prices and a huge spike in the cost of living in the Middle East, especially after the invasion of Iraq in 2003, the resulting occupation, civil strife and insurgency.
So by the end of the 2000s, the Arabs in general were living under regimes that were often not living in the real world; they certainly seemed to act like it, as they were mainly impervious to change, paranoid of dissent, and had a schizophrenic relationship to the West (needing their support economically and diplomatically, but still happy to insult them to their own people for domestic consumption).
Most of the Arab goverments were paranoid of their populations because of the example of Iran that had taken place thirty years before. But, while some of their populations turned to Islamic fundamentalism in either perverse inspiration or desperation, there was another Islamic model that was also on the Arab world's doorstep from another direction: that of Turkey.
Those Turkish politicans who had been involved in the ill-fated administration of the "Refah" party in the mid nineties had learned their lesson by 2001. Recep Tayyip Erdogan, leader of the AK party, was one of them, and he saw that it might be possible to "break the mould" of Turkish politics by producing a mass-supported, more modest, Islamic party that would appeal to the average person.
Although had been a democracy for most of its time as a republic (see my earlier article from six months ago comparing Turkey and Egypt), it also suffered from a straightjacket of a powerful military, an immovable civil code and a strong secular tradition. But in 2002, the AK party easily won the national elections.
The AK government under Erdogan went on to prove the critics at home wrong by creating a vibrant and rapidly expanding Turkish economy, a stable government, and a more balanced foreign policy.
The last point is the one that most interested Arab governments; prior to the AK government, Turkey's relationship to the Middle East (except Israel) was indifferent at best. By the end of the 2000s, Turkey's AK government was paying far more attention to the Arab governments than any previous Turkish government; the AK government's "good neighbour" policy of paying attention to all its neighbouring relations - the EU, Russia, Iran, the Middle East and so on.
Arab rulers probably thought that it was just good business sense on the part of the Turks; what they thought that their populations thought about it may not have been on their mind. If that was the case, it was to be a huge mistake.
So the factors that led to the "Arab Spring" can be traced more exactly: the economic instability caused indirectly by the "War On Terror"; the increased security measures against the native Arab populations (excused by the "War On Terror"); the rise of political Islam and the example of good government and good relations offered by the moderate Islamic government of Turkey. Oh, and also the new possibilities brought about in the last few years through social networking. All it then needed was a spark.
The "Arab Spring", therefore, was a result of the changes in political Islam, radicalised after the 1970s, which (for the majority) had matured by the beginning of the 2000s into something else; less extreme and direct, more pragmatic and moderate. The invasion of Iraq in 2003 had the effect of transplanting an embryonic (if anarchic) democracy in the heart of the Middle East. The argument that this created a positive example for other Arab populations is, putting it politely, unproven. The Middle East for the past thirty years had been dominated by two Islamic fundamentalist powers: Iran and Saudi Arabia; one pro-West, one anti-West. The emergence of Turkey in the last ten years as a regional power changes the game; if Egypt, now more openly democratic, follows the Turkey model as seems likely, then the Middle East will become even more an even playing field rather than a battle of wills between regional powers.
I talked before of "winners" and "losers".
The prime "winner" of the Arab Spring, apart from the Arab populations themselves, is undoubtably Turkey. Turkey is the exemplar that the people behind the "Arab Spring" most readily follow; its influence in the region, already important as a power-broker and an economic bridgehead, is bound to increase. And the wily Turks are never likely to miss an opportunity to make a wide-ranging, long-term economic investment, as can be seen in Libya and elsewhere. Erdogan is the Arab populations' role model, at least until they find their own in their respective countries. This is what is meant by the "New Ottomanism": moderately Islamist Turkey regaining its former power and influence across the wider region more than a century of being either on the sidelines or the pawn of other powers.
Then there are the "losers". Strangely enough, the losers are mutual antagonists: Iran and Israel. The loss of Iranian influence is obvious enough to see; its ideological war to impose and encourage its view of Islam across the Middle East has clearly failed overall. Although there are more extreme Islamic elements within each of the countries touched by the "Arab Spring", they are clearly a minority, and the moderate view is bound to win in the medium and long term. Iran as a power is distrusted by the Arabs in general (except for the Shia Muslims), and the Arab governments in particular. Iran's only real ally in the Middle East, Syria, is fighting its own battles from within, and the ruling regime is utterly discredited. Secondly, Turkey's diplomatic focus on the Arab world, and its canny re-positioning strongly against the human rights violations of the Israeli government (especially after the "Mavi Marmara" incident), puts Israel in a corner. The only Arab government on good terms with Israel had been the former regime of Egypt; no longer. Israel is truly without friends in the Middle East or even in the neighbouring locality.
The "Arab Spring" has also put fresh impetus into the cause of the Palestinians: if the Palestinians were really smart, Israeli Arabs would organise mass demonstrations to bring Israel to a standstill, and use Erdogan as their diplomatic attack dog. That would be something that might make even the unswervingly loyal US question its principles.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
The Republic Of Cambridge (Respublica Cantabrigiensis)
There has been a settlement at the site of where Cambridge is today since pre-Roman times.
Cambridge today is famous, and has been famous for centuries, for one thing: its university. The university itself has existed since around the 12th century, and its founding is in itself worth a mention.
Everyone knows about the term "Oxbridge" (the term dates from the 19th century, and was the tongue-in-cheek name of a university in a satirical novel), and the rivalry; but that rivalry infact was, most likely, born of booze. Oxford's university was founded by royal charter, and so attracted academics and students to the city. This was great for the town's intellectual reputation; it was also a boon for the boozers, too. After some time, the Oxford townspeople finally grew tired of the drunken antics of the students, and eventually some of the academics and students were forced out of the town. Banished from the intellectual Mecca of England, they chose Cambridge as their Medina; their place of exile and rebirth.
This was in the14th century. Oxford was the newer of the two cities, as it dated from Saxon times ("Ox-forde"); Cambridge, as I said, was ancient by comparison. Its original Roman name was Duroliponte; although there had been a settlement there before even then, and there are Bronze Age remains on the Gog and Magog hills just south of the city. After the Romans left, the Saxons built a town on the opposite side of the river ("Grantabrydge"), which eventually changed to Cambridge (Grantchester, a village just outside of Cambridge, still attests to this older name).
The "college" system developed over the centuries in Cambridge, as it did in Oxford. These days, Cambridge has 31 colleges; Oxford almost forty. Cambridge's oldest is Peterhouse; another half a dozen colleges were established over the middle ages, whereas much of the rest were established in the last two hundred years. Both universities act, effectively, as the custodians of their respective cities. The "college" system, for those unfamiliar with it, makes the University seem similar in arrangement to a semi-autonomous, federal republic - all the colleges are autonomous of their own budget and have their own rules and specialisations, but all fall under the umbrella of the University (arriving students are either advised which college to choose, or a suitable one is chosen for them).
A few random facts and observations about Cambridge:
1) Cambridge is the driest place in the UK; it has the smallest amount of rainfall, which maybe also explains why cycling is so common here - you're more likely to cycle if you're more certain you won't get wet.
2) Cambridge University is, apparently, the largest landowner in the UK after the Church Of England. Much of the housing development that goes on in the city is due to the University's guidance. The same goes for the "Silicon Fen"; the UK's largest IT park, also linked to the University; as well as the Science Park.
3) Cambridge is a city of around 100,000 people; Oxford slightly more. Cambridge is about pubs, churches, colleges, parks, punting and cafes. It sounds as English as you can get, but the atmosphere is extremely cosmopolitan, with a huge foreign population; students, workers, whatever. That makes the city feel very liberal; maybe surprising for a place that seems at first to represent everything about the "old establishment". It's also a Liberal city - the council has been solidly LibDem (with a Labour minority) for twenty years, with not a Tory in sight (though to be fair, Oxford has been run by a Labour council for a similar period).
4) The atmosphere in the city is therefore unique; like Oxford, though for slightly different reasons. Cambridge feels like a country town, but still has a sizeable city centre. The river dominates the city, as it runs right through the town centre, and gives plenty of space for open parkland.
While Oxford and Cambridge share many similarities, they differ on a few points.
First, the setting is different: Cambridge lies in lowland, close to the fens - as a result, the landscape looks almost like from a Dutch or Flemish painting; Oxford, meanwhile lies in a valley of low hills - a kind comparison might be to the south of France or Tuscany.
Second, the architecture of the cities are different: Oxford's style is fairly uniform - in a medieval renaissance civic style, with a city centre of graceful streets, squares and parks. By comparison, Cambridge is more like a medieval country town, with the colleges in a more varied and eclectic style, like ducal courts and palace complexes designed by a plethora of competing architects.
Lastly, both cities had important but opposing roles in forming the nation's political history. During the Civil War, Oxford became the seat of King Charles' court - in effect, the official capital during his war with Parliament (though, to be fair, many people in Oxford did not approve of the king either); meanwhile, as Cambridge was the centre of Cromwell's Eastern Association (Cromwell came from nearby Huntingdon), it acted as the unofficial "capital" of the Republican cause. Although it is a simplification to say so, symbolically, Oxford was the king's city; Cambridge was the ideological capital of the Parliament, and the English Republic.
In other words, Cambridge is the spiritual home of English republicanism.
Cambridge today is famous, and has been famous for centuries, for one thing: its university. The university itself has existed since around the 12th century, and its founding is in itself worth a mention.
Everyone knows about the term "Oxbridge" (the term dates from the 19th century, and was the tongue-in-cheek name of a university in a satirical novel), and the rivalry; but that rivalry infact was, most likely, born of booze. Oxford's university was founded by royal charter, and so attracted academics and students to the city. This was great for the town's intellectual reputation; it was also a boon for the boozers, too. After some time, the Oxford townspeople finally grew tired of the drunken antics of the students, and eventually some of the academics and students were forced out of the town. Banished from the intellectual Mecca of England, they chose Cambridge as their Medina; their place of exile and rebirth.
This was in the14th century. Oxford was the newer of the two cities, as it dated from Saxon times ("Ox-forde"); Cambridge, as I said, was ancient by comparison. Its original Roman name was Duroliponte; although there had been a settlement there before even then, and there are Bronze Age remains on the Gog and Magog hills just south of the city. After the Romans left, the Saxons built a town on the opposite side of the river ("Grantabrydge"), which eventually changed to Cambridge (Grantchester, a village just outside of Cambridge, still attests to this older name).
The "college" system developed over the centuries in Cambridge, as it did in Oxford. These days, Cambridge has 31 colleges; Oxford almost forty. Cambridge's oldest is Peterhouse; another half a dozen colleges were established over the middle ages, whereas much of the rest were established in the last two hundred years. Both universities act, effectively, as the custodians of their respective cities. The "college" system, for those unfamiliar with it, makes the University seem similar in arrangement to a semi-autonomous, federal republic - all the colleges are autonomous of their own budget and have their own rules and specialisations, but all fall under the umbrella of the University (arriving students are either advised which college to choose, or a suitable one is chosen for them).
A few random facts and observations about Cambridge:
1) Cambridge is the driest place in the UK; it has the smallest amount of rainfall, which maybe also explains why cycling is so common here - you're more likely to cycle if you're more certain you won't get wet.
2) Cambridge University is, apparently, the largest landowner in the UK after the Church Of England. Much of the housing development that goes on in the city is due to the University's guidance. The same goes for the "Silicon Fen"; the UK's largest IT park, also linked to the University; as well as the Science Park.
3) Cambridge is a city of around 100,000 people; Oxford slightly more. Cambridge is about pubs, churches, colleges, parks, punting and cafes. It sounds as English as you can get, but the atmosphere is extremely cosmopolitan, with a huge foreign population; students, workers, whatever. That makes the city feel very liberal; maybe surprising for a place that seems at first to represent everything about the "old establishment". It's also a Liberal city - the council has been solidly LibDem (with a Labour minority) for twenty years, with not a Tory in sight (though to be fair, Oxford has been run by a Labour council for a similar period).
4) The atmosphere in the city is therefore unique; like Oxford, though for slightly different reasons. Cambridge feels like a country town, but still has a sizeable city centre. The river dominates the city, as it runs right through the town centre, and gives plenty of space for open parkland.
While Oxford and Cambridge share many similarities, they differ on a few points.
First, the setting is different: Cambridge lies in lowland, close to the fens - as a result, the landscape looks almost like from a Dutch or Flemish painting; Oxford, meanwhile lies in a valley of low hills - a kind comparison might be to the south of France or Tuscany.
Second, the architecture of the cities are different: Oxford's style is fairly uniform - in a medieval renaissance civic style, with a city centre of graceful streets, squares and parks. By comparison, Cambridge is more like a medieval country town, with the colleges in a more varied and eclectic style, like ducal courts and palace complexes designed by a plethora of competing architects.
Lastly, both cities had important but opposing roles in forming the nation's political history. During the Civil War, Oxford became the seat of King Charles' court - in effect, the official capital during his war with Parliament (though, to be fair, many people in Oxford did not approve of the king either); meanwhile, as Cambridge was the centre of Cromwell's Eastern Association (Cromwell came from nearby Huntingdon), it acted as the unofficial "capital" of the Republican cause. Although it is a simplification to say so, symbolically, Oxford was the king's city; Cambridge was the ideological capital of the Parliament, and the English Republic.
In other words, Cambridge is the spiritual home of English republicanism.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
How To Raise A Generation Of Psychopaths
In my last post, I talked about why it was wrong to blame "Liberalism" for the August riots, saying that both the left and right who had part of the correct answer.
The left blame social deprivation and government under-investment; the right blame a culture of liberal indulgence. Both are correct, but I want to explain exactly why, and how this creates a psychopathic psychology in some of our youngsters.
Listening to young people who are also from deprived backgrounds, asked why they chose not to get involved in the riots, they shrugged and said "Cos I had good parents, I guess". If you want to hear why it's happening, ask those who choose NOT to do it, then the answer will become clearer.
Listening to parents who choose not to discipline their children, one of them said "Because the government doesn't give me the right to be a proper parent". What this parent means, is that because of a culture that defends the right of the child, the parents feels (and in a legal sense, this could be true) that they are subordinate to the rights of their children.
The extention of the rights of the child is one of the major things (as well as women's rights and the rights of gays and ethnic minorities) that seperates modern times from decades such as the 1950s and earlier, when children were beaten behind closed doors. Some on the right wish for a return to those values; it that would be simplistic and lazy thinking, as it ignores the truth that while for some children raised in that environment it enforced a strong discipline and fear of punishment, it gave a green light to any parent of a violent temper to indulge their weaknesses onto their offspring. So let's not return to that era.
The historic result of that was the "baby boomer" generation, who wanted everything to be better for their children; a harmless enough wish, but not when implemented at a goverment-sanctioned level.
The "rights" pendulum swung to the other extreme, where any teacher was obliged to tell social services of any incident of parental violence reported by children. Furthermore, teachers themselves could be reported for any perceived "violence" in the classroom. Added to that, children are legally immune from effective punishment, and those punishments that exist are more influenced by preventative "behavioral science".
In this environment, with children being told that they are worth more than the earth, and at the same time being protected by law from their own parents, a certain psychology develops in the mind of the child. But more on that later.
I should also mention the fact that since the 1950s, and especially in the last thirty years, the gap between the top ten percent and the bottom ten percent has grown to an unbridgeable gulf. It is therefore not surprising if some of the parents at the bottom therefore think that since the government has taken away their rights as parents and transferred them to their children, they have a common excuse to hand the parenting of their children onto the government themselves, and society in general. So a culture of government dependency is born. And also a culture of lack of responsibility. The children raised in the "sink estates have few real chances at the advancement that has been fed into and encouraged by their parents' generation; the frustration grows, with a psychology of interal all-empowerment and external impotence.
So some parents feel disempowered by the law; some parents use that same sense of disempowerment as an excuse to abrogate on their responsibilities; and many parents feel the need to indulge their children (either because they instinctively feel the need to give a better upbringing than they got themselves, or simply through lazy discipline). Either way, it's the children who are psychologically changed from that.
Add something else to this psychological cocktail: as well as the growing gap between rich and poor (by many estimates, one of the largest in the developed world), there is the change in the moral guide that keeps our culture together; I'm talking about amoral materialist capitalism.
This may seem like an easy target, but it's also a pertinent question. Why did so many teenagers go on a mass looting spree (in the French riots, they burned cars rather than looted, although that may also be because their deprived neighbourhoods had so few shops ready to loot) rather than indulge in other violent activities?
They did so because, as many of them put it, it was their way to stick it to the rich and get their own back. For the past thirty years in particular, British culture has been fed a morality of getting rich by any means; the only key to happiness is to get rich, and get lots of stuff. Some on the left blame Thatcher's long legacy for these riots. Again, that's too simplistic, as I've mentioned in the points above; there are a number of components that all need to be in place, rather like a necessary compound to make a dangerous substance.
They all need to be in place in order for this to happen. But now, in August 2011, it DID happen.
So, to summarise: we created a generation of youngsters, many of whom have no sense of right or wrong; who have a sense all-powerful impunity; who feel conversely angry and disconnected from the success enjoyed by those celebrated in the media, and the false sense of opportunity encouraged by their parents.
In other words, these are the bones of the psychology of a psychopath. They are fearless; boundless; and angry.
This is contemporary Britain's bastard creation: a "lost" generation, disconnected from their parents; disconnected from morality; disconnected from material reality. Their only connection is to their peers, the "gang", and whatever they can grab for themselves. Without role models, the only "role model" is the one they create from fake "media reality".
A Clockwork Orange, come to life.
Labels:
family unit,
individualism,
London Riots,
psychopathy
Thursday, August 11, 2011
The English Riots and the "Death Of Liberalism"
So now that the smoke has disappated, the police are in force, and calm has been restored to the streets, the inquest has begun. Or the blame game. Depends on your point of view.
The riots of the past four days have been the worst in the UK (and possibly in Europe) for decades. Certainly, I doubt there has been such widespread breakdown of law and order in Britain for a hundred years or more. During the Depression, I didn't read of any such looting and destruction ever happening on such a scale as England has witnessed in the last week.
Why did it happen, and what can we do to prevent it from being repeated? This is what people from opposite ends of the political spectrum have been debating endlessly.
The Conservatives, not surprisingly, and those at the extreme right, say that a culture of Liberalism is to blame. When there is a culture of criminals being able to claim benefits from the state, and when there is a culture of lack of responsibility in general, this feeds into this wicked cycle of a breakdown of values.
On the "liberal" left, people like Ken Livingstone have been talking of a culture of cuts creating anger and resentment from the poor, added to the decades of underinvestment and a culture of ignorance that institutions such as the police and the government have shown to the poor.
Clearly, both of these views can't be completely right. Blaming "liberalism" completely does not provide the full picture; there are plenty of other "liberal" countries in the world that have not had riots - Scandinavia being the obvious one; Germany also provides a fairly positive example (considering that nearly ten percent of the German population is ethnic Turkish, there are relatively few racial issues; though the fact that Germany is culturally pacifist since the Second World War also helps).
At the same time, emphasizing social issues as a root cause (as the left does) also fails to deal with the full issue; again, there is plenty of poverty in the developed world as a whole, yet there has been no similar breakdown in law and order elsewhere on this scale.
The closest comparison is the French riots in the middle of the 2000s (when Sarkozy was the interior minister); that went on for weeks, and the spark was also a controversial death blamed on the police.
As most of our leading politiicans have pointed out (rightly, as I mentioned in my previous post), it is about a gang culture, that has grown out of a lack of moral leadership from parents and other authority figures.
This issue cannot be blamed on the left or right, because being taught social and moral responsibility is not a political issue; it is a family issue. If parents choose to abrogate their responsibilities as parents, that is not only their problem, it becomes a social problem. It is how children turn into potential criminals; it is how children turn into potential sociopaths.
So it would be wrong to blame a "culture of liberalism" for these riots; nowhere does liberalism as an ideology tell parents that they have the right to not be parents. This is not about liberalism or conservatism, this is about basic parental responsibilty and children being given positive moral examples from their family.
There are plenty of families struggling in poverty because of social deprivation that bring up perfectly good, law-abiding children. Interestingly, many of those children are the families of immigrants; judging from some of the teenagers seen looting and rioting, many of them were not the children of immigrants - they were the children of "chavs".
It depends on the moral code that the parents teach their children; if they tell their children that it is OK to commit crime because they are poor, then these parents are passing on their own responsibilities to society; if they choose not to care what their children are doing once they walk out the door of their home, they are no longer acting as parents.
Any decent person, regardless of political persuasion, I think would find it difficult to argue with that. The scenes in Peckham, where people were going out of their way NOT to blame multiculturalism for the riots, shows us that some people at least, do not want to find quick scapegoats for the unrest. On the other hand, the scenes in the London suburb of Eltham, where vigilanteism was hijacked by the thugs of the anti-immigrant English Defence League, was another reminder that some people ARE susceptible to the easy answers of reactionary politics.
So, Liberalism is far from dead; but Liberalism was never about excusing common criminality and parental ignorance. Only an anarchist or nihilist would support the actions of the past few days in England.
Liberalism is about giving people the freedom to do want they want within the commonly accepted boundaries of lawful behavior; it is about accepting that the market does not provide all the answers for society, and that people sometimes need goverment to provide services that the private sector cannot fairly provide; it is about goverment providing a helping hand where needed to those who follow the law and respect others, while providing an effective punishment to those who do not.
Sunday, August 7, 2011
Riots, Damned Riots, and Revolutions
Tottenham, London, can now be added to the list of cities in the Western world (i.e Europe and America) that have seen riots in recent years.
In the last week, even Tel Aviv, Israel (of all places) has joined the ranks of the more famous anarchy-prone metropoli such as Athens an Madrid, to name two.
That's not to mention the riots and civil strife happening on a daily basis in Syria, sporadically in Yemen, Egypt; civil war in Libya etc. etc.
Of course, the riots of the last few years each have there own roots, and are not directly related to each other, and I don't want to go into each set of events in too much detail, for the sake of space. But some things are worth talking about.
Starting most recent first, the riots in Tottenham and around.
It was the shooting of an armed criminal with gang links a few days before that was meant to be the spark. A protest walk in the Tottenham high street became hijacked by what appear to have been gang elements (many of them immigrant origin), and the end result was nearly twelve hours of mayhem in three seperate locations in the Haringey district of North London, resulting in looted and burned out shops, supermakets and retail outlets, as well as burned out police cars and a bus.
It may be tempting to ink these riots to those happening around the same time in places like Tel Aviv, Athens and Madrid. Tempting, but not entirely fair or accurate. The riots/ demonstrations in these other places are people (either young or old, or both) venting their frustration at their respective government's response to the economic and social effects of the financial crisis - unemployment, rising prices, cost of living etc.
In the case of the Tottenham riots, there are direct criminal elements involved. In that respect in bears a closer resemblance to the riots that took place in France several years ago (long before the financial crisis, as I remember); a teenager of North African origin was killed by a policeman; riots broke out across some deprived suburbs of Paris, quickly multiplying to other cities around France (Sarkozy called the rioters "scum" at the time); it got to the extent that by the tail end of weeks of the national riots there were "only" 1,000 cars that had been burned out in one day.
Those riots were also likely instigated by gangs seeing an opprtunity to wreak their own sense of "revenge" on the police and the establishment.
The essential question is: why do gangs exist in these circumstances? The answer doesn't take a PhD in Sociology to get to. Gangs exist as social networks to occupy a wider social vacuum (i.e. through dysfuctional family networks, community networks, lack of other connection to the social ladder etc.).
Am I making excuses for criminality? Of course not. I'm simply looking at the issue through a cause-and-effect rationality, in coming to understand why it happens. The police do the same thing: that's why when there is proper engagement with a community; when there are real opportunities for community improvement; when a community works together; when families work together, the levels of gang activity usually go down. That has been proven to be the case in Glasgow (the police did a successful programme there a couple of years ago).
So, back to Tottenham. As was reported, over the last few years, the suburb has seen rising levels of unemployment and falling levels of police interaction. You go figure what happens. Create the vacuum, and see who takes up the space.
So in an indirect way, yes, there is a link to all these riots over the "post-crisis years" (I just invented that phrase). The seperate make-up and triggers are different, but the underlying causes remain somewhat similar.
It is fair to say that without the financial crisis, the Arab Spring may well not have happened (as it took everyone, even the "experts" by surprise); the demos and riots across Europe are all direct consequences of the crisis. While the Gangs Of Tottenham can never dare to claim to hold the same legitimacy for their openly criminal behaviour, the gangs exist indirectly because of the social vacuum in the community in Tottenham itself, which has been exacurbated by the effects and government policy since the financial crisis.
Of course, the same community vacuum exists in other parts of London; exists in other inner cities around the UK; and exists in other inner cities around the Western world as a whole. Let me say again: there can never be a justification for the criminal behavior that we have seen in Tottenham.
The problem is that if these "community vacuums" are allowed to fester while the government continues to cut back on sevices like law and order and investing in social cohesion, the only growth economy we can expect in these places is further gang warfare and anarchy.
Labels:
anarchy,
family unit,
financial crisis,
London Riots
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Crisis? It's the worst crisis since the last crisis...
Since the start of the month the headlines have been full of crises. Greek debt default; then the risk of Italian debt default; now the risk American debt default. In other words, the civilised world is running on default settings.
Funny that. Except it isn't. Or maybe it is. It depends on your perspective. And that's something which some in the media have long lost sight of.
Speaking of the media, the perspective of the media has been turned on its head in the UK recently. The revelations about the extent of routinely illegal practises at News International, and the emperor-without-his-clothes grilling of Rupert Murdoch and his heir apparent infront of MPs, make for fine 24-hour media saturation.
Which is all quite ironic in a couple of ways. First of all, this whole scandal reeks of Watergate-style corruption at the highest level, but with a 21st century twist. Whereas Watergate was all about abuse of power and contempt of the law by government in the USA, in this case we have abuse of power and comtempt of law by a private company in the UK that treats government, the police and the lives of innocents (and even the dead) as a plaything of the rich and powerful.
Perhaps nothing much changes in politics after all, but what is doubly ironic is the hypocrisy of the current media circus over the News International scandal is that there is strong evidence to suggest that some of the other UK papers were doing the exact same thing for years - hacking into phones to get headlines.
For example, hearing a recent Alistair Campbell interview, he quoted Tony Blair as describing the Daily Mail as "representing the worst of British values masquerading as the best". That sums up much of what is wrong with the British popular print media. The Daily Mirror are also being investigated.
As a reminder, this is the third great "institutional crisis" to hit the UK in the last few years. The financial crisis showed how bankrupt the banking system was (and still is, morally as well as financially). Then the expenses scandal showed how British politicians made massive claims from public expense to pay for anything from cleaning their moats to buying pornography (!). That they did so partly because the media also enjoyed trying to demean MPs as being "over-paid" (inspite of British MPs being a mocked profession, they earn less than headmasters or doctors in the UK), leaving them with little other option for everyday expenses.
But back to current crises. "Default" is the buzz word this month, because the Greeks, Italians and Americans are all talking about it. They said that a Greek default would bring down the Euro; so the other Europeans bailed them out. Although no-one seems to knows how many bailouts would be enough. Strange, and also shows how pointless economic theory is when no numbers make sense. The Italians were terrified that they might have to default too (which would be more serious as they contribute far more to the EU than marginal Greece), so they made massive spending cuts to stave off the panic. Then there is America, the empire of commerce to the world. Over there, the President is trying his best to stave off a default (a previously unthinkable idea, which everyone think might have apocalyptic consequences) while the opposition Republicans seem hell-bent on destroying their country's economic credibility and standing in the world simply because they don't feel like being helpful.
Then there is the famine in the Horn of Africa, a heatwave in America (though the latter hardly compares in human misery to the former), home-grown terrorism (the horrific attacks in Oslo)...and that just about puts us up to date, more or less.
So crises are happening every month. Though, we only know this because it's reported in the media. And the media have to choose what they deem "newsworthy" and what isn't. So maybe there are crises we don't know about because they're not that high up on the newslist - such as the continually melting ice caps in the North Pole, continually rising food prices, and so on.
Which kind of puts us nicely full circle. Looking at the media, and default settings. Maybe the media should focus more on its "default" setting: telling the truth, telling the facts; like good old-fashioned investigation that revealed the Watergate scandal, rather than the systematic, illegal, misuse of its influence to promote rumour and character assassination for its own ends.
This vicious media culture in the UK has taken many years to germinate, but has grown into a real cancer in the last ten to fifteen years; more or less coinciding with Tony Blair's rise to power as Labour leader in 1994, and his subsequent genuflecting to the icon of sanctimony, St. Rupert of Murdoch.
That's the other, final, irony about the media scandal that grows day by day. After the years of virtual terror that the Murdoch press put into British politicians and even the police, when thrust into the cold light of day, the eighty-year-old Murdoch looked a strange figure; seemingly out of touch, sometimes hesitant, at one moment claiming omnipotence over his empire, while at another time claiming ignorance of the activities of his senior staff. His son, James, seemed much sharper, but also was pleading ignorance. Which begs the question: who is really in charge here? Or, like many multinational corporations, is it a multi-headed hydra that is out of control?
Time will tell; it will also tell us how far the rabbit hole really goes into this particular "crisis".
Funny that. Except it isn't. Or maybe it is. It depends on your perspective. And that's something which some in the media have long lost sight of.
Speaking of the media, the perspective of the media has been turned on its head in the UK recently. The revelations about the extent of routinely illegal practises at News International, and the emperor-without-his-clothes grilling of Rupert Murdoch and his heir apparent infront of MPs, make for fine 24-hour media saturation.
Which is all quite ironic in a couple of ways. First of all, this whole scandal reeks of Watergate-style corruption at the highest level, but with a 21st century twist. Whereas Watergate was all about abuse of power and contempt of the law by government in the USA, in this case we have abuse of power and comtempt of law by a private company in the UK that treats government, the police and the lives of innocents (and even the dead) as a plaything of the rich and powerful.
Perhaps nothing much changes in politics after all, but what is doubly ironic is the hypocrisy of the current media circus over the News International scandal is that there is strong evidence to suggest that some of the other UK papers were doing the exact same thing for years - hacking into phones to get headlines.
For example, hearing a recent Alistair Campbell interview, he quoted Tony Blair as describing the Daily Mail as "representing the worst of British values masquerading as the best". That sums up much of what is wrong with the British popular print media. The Daily Mirror are also being investigated.
As a reminder, this is the third great "institutional crisis" to hit the UK in the last few years. The financial crisis showed how bankrupt the banking system was (and still is, morally as well as financially). Then the expenses scandal showed how British politicians made massive claims from public expense to pay for anything from cleaning their moats to buying pornography (!). That they did so partly because the media also enjoyed trying to demean MPs as being "over-paid" (inspite of British MPs being a mocked profession, they earn less than headmasters or doctors in the UK), leaving them with little other option for everyday expenses.
But back to current crises. "Default" is the buzz word this month, because the Greeks, Italians and Americans are all talking about it. They said that a Greek default would bring down the Euro; so the other Europeans bailed them out. Although no-one seems to knows how many bailouts would be enough. Strange, and also shows how pointless economic theory is when no numbers make sense. The Italians were terrified that they might have to default too (which would be more serious as they contribute far more to the EU than marginal Greece), so they made massive spending cuts to stave off the panic. Then there is America, the empire of commerce to the world. Over there, the President is trying his best to stave off a default (a previously unthinkable idea, which everyone think might have apocalyptic consequences) while the opposition Republicans seem hell-bent on destroying their country's economic credibility and standing in the world simply because they don't feel like being helpful.
Then there is the famine in the Horn of Africa, a heatwave in America (though the latter hardly compares in human misery to the former), home-grown terrorism (the horrific attacks in Oslo)...and that just about puts us up to date, more or less.
So crises are happening every month. Though, we only know this because it's reported in the media. And the media have to choose what they deem "newsworthy" and what isn't. So maybe there are crises we don't know about because they're not that high up on the newslist - such as the continually melting ice caps in the North Pole, continually rising food prices, and so on.
Which kind of puts us nicely full circle. Looking at the media, and default settings. Maybe the media should focus more on its "default" setting: telling the truth, telling the facts; like good old-fashioned investigation that revealed the Watergate scandal, rather than the systematic, illegal, misuse of its influence to promote rumour and character assassination for its own ends.
This vicious media culture in the UK has taken many years to germinate, but has grown into a real cancer in the last ten to fifteen years; more or less coinciding with Tony Blair's rise to power as Labour leader in 1994, and his subsequent genuflecting to the icon of sanctimony, St. Rupert of Murdoch.
That's the other, final, irony about the media scandal that grows day by day. After the years of virtual terror that the Murdoch press put into British politicians and even the police, when thrust into the cold light of day, the eighty-year-old Murdoch looked a strange figure; seemingly out of touch, sometimes hesitant, at one moment claiming omnipotence over his empire, while at another time claiming ignorance of the activities of his senior staff. His son, James, seemed much sharper, but also was pleading ignorance. Which begs the question: who is really in charge here? Or, like many multinational corporations, is it a multi-headed hydra that is out of control?
Time will tell; it will also tell us how far the rabbit hole really goes into this particular "crisis".
Labels:
corruption,
Daily Mail,
financial crisis,
Murdoch
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)