Book Notes: Molotov's Magic Lantern by Rachel Polonsky

The Russian writer Danil Granin used the word 'tosca' to describe the villages outside Novgorod, writes Rachel Polonsky. Russian-English dictionaries, suggest that there is no direct English equivalent for this word but Polonsky goes on to say, tosca a word which "besides melancholy, contains shades of yearning, nostalgia, even anguish", (p158).

Molotov's Magic Lantern is a book which is overflowing with tosca, positively brimming with it in fact. It's a book without a plot, and without any central characters, and almost no dialogue! It's really a stunningly written travel book, in which the author immerses herself in the, cultural, political, economic and literary history of each place she visits. The way that she does this is so compelling, absorbing and Russian, that the reader is made to feel that they have been touched by these places too.

Polonsky's travels begin in Moscow, where she was living. The flat she rented in the 1990s was however no ordinary dwelling; but a former Nomenklatura residence, reserved for the upper echelons of the Soviet hierarchy, throughout the seven decades of communist rule. The list of people who lived at 'number 3', reads like a roll-call of the cream of the Old-Bolsheviks of Lenin's revolutionary party, like Trostky and Vishinsky; through to latter characters such as the deposed Krushchev. Most significant for the book however is the fact that Vyachaslev Molotov, and his wife Polina, lived in the flat above Polonsky's; from his reign as Stalin's Foreign Minister, until his death in 1986. What's more, Molotov's flat was largely unchanged from the days when he negotiated the non-aggression pact with Hitler, signed the death-lists in the great purges, or flew off to Yalta with Stalin. Most fascinating of all, his library full of his heavily-annotated books was present too; and which Polosnky delved deeply into. The purges, gulags, The Lubyanka and the death squads of the NKVD reached deeply into "number three".

In succeeding chapters, Polonsky travels around the part of Moscow in which she lives, then down to the Sea of Azov, through the strange history of the traditional Russian banya, up to Murmansk and Barentsburg, and out through Tunka into Siberia. In each of these places she digs deeply into the lives of the people who have lived there, and into the political and literary figures who forged history and responded to it. One reviewer called it a 'delicious celebration of Russia.... from Pushkin to Putin." My knowledge of literature is very poor compared to my understanding of Russian history and politics; which I studied at university. So while most of the historical-political references made sense to me; some of the literary illusions were harder to follow. Nevertheless, when describing the physical, political, cultural and ideological landscapes in which the writers she follows operated, Polonsky evokes such profound moods that even the more obscure references are swept up into the whole. Some scenes, such as her exploration of the abandoned Stalinist scientific research centre where the ideologically Stalinist,  but Scientific charlatan Trofim Lysenko operated, are vivid:

Here, where biology once grew freely as a natural science, Stalin's favourites degraded into an ideological farce. Not all the Lutsino dachniki were natural scientists, some were in the social sciences. On the way back from the Biostation, I took the loop in the road that leads past dacha No.7, whose grounds are grander than most in the colony. Said to have a parquet floor, the dacha was given to Andrei Vyshinsky to mark his years of scholarly service to the Soviet state.... [but this was only] his reserve dacha, and visits of the chief prosecutor were rare. I had found Vyshinsky in Moscow, amongst Molotov's books and here he was again, at his property in the country. (p125)

Vyshinsky was the legal mind behind the great purges, show trials and horrors of Stalin's 30s. He was the person, who as head of the USSR's legal system declared that legal representation for the accused was bourgeois and corrupt. 

The historical references never seem to stray far from the gulags, and the purges, of course. When they do, the toska inevitably returns with a throwaway comment such as, "this is before he was arrested in 1937, tortured by the NKVK and shot in 1939", and could refer to a peasant, a politician, a writer, actor, scientist, doctor or soldier. When Polonsky follows the route of the exiles from Moscow/Leningrad out into Siberia, the sorrow of Russian history from the Okhrana to the Cheka, the NKVD, GUGB etc. is powerful.

I went to Russia during Gorbachev's era - and the country left a permanent impression on me. Although by then the communist system was ailing; the party itself had lost the will to impose itself upon the largely reluctant populace any longer; it was possible to still 'smell' the past - and imagine the state terrorising its own. The body of Lenin was still on display in Red Square, though Stalin's had been removed. Driving past the Lubyanka, was still enough to cause the tour party to shudder and imagine Beria and his ilk arriving to commit their crimes against humanity. This book is so evocative and stirring, that it is almost like a visit to Russia, in the mind; from the reading chair. For anyone who has an interest in all things Russian this is a tremendous read.

Book Notes: From Anger to Apathy - The British Experience Since 1975 by Mark Garnett

In this fast-paced, lively and hugely enjoyable book, Mark Garnett (a politics lecturer somewhere or other), takes the reader on a rollicking roller-coaster tour through British politics and culture covering almost five decades in a mere four hundred pages. In his tour de force, Garnet ranges easily between tiny details of stories, elections, characters and incidents on one hand - and generalisations about the country as a whole on the other.

Rather pleasingly, Garnett refuses to be drawn into the standard stereotypes that trap lazier historians; the most obvious is that (a) the 70s were a ghastly time to be alive, with strikes, three-day weeks, rampant inflation, and the Northern Irish troubles; and that (b) Thatcher then came and screwed up our previously wonderful nation. Such poor, but oft-invoked shoddy readings of history fail to satisfy the reader simply on the grounds of lack of internal consistency! Garnett is instead, suitably tough in his analysis of everyone.

His overarching argument (if there really is one), is that Britain has changed since the 70s, and while some of these changes have been good - many are to our detriment. While he paints a bleak enough picture of 70s Britain, he doesn't do it in a 2-dimensional way, but is rather more sympathetic to an age in which there were stronger community, class, union, family and social bonds holding people together.

The layout of the book is interesting too in that the material isn't arranged strictly chronologically, but in themes' with the themes being addressed in a logical order which does represent the times. The anger of the 70s, of the class-conflict and economic and social strife, and the racial riots which filled the headlines, boils over into the early 80s, and on to the miners strikes and poll-tax riots; but we find the anger levels lower at the start than the end of the period. In turn Garnett examines "Fear" (Cold War, Foot and Mouth, Millenium Bug, Aids); Charity Faith and Hope (Live Aid, and Secularisation), Greed (were the 80s really more greedy than other eras?  - not really!), Lust (sex, morality and scandals) and finally Apathy - where he leaves us. Here he is really bleak in his outlook, alleging that we have become stultified consumers, radical post-modern consumers, staring bleakly at moronic 'reality' TV shows, detached from 'reality' itself. He's not that impressed with our democracy, New Labour or the Iraq War either.... but then again, who is, these days?

The book is not just stimulating and sometimes surprising in its various assessments of people movements and ideas; but hugely enjoyable to read too. There were many events detailed here, which I vaguely remember, from childhood - nicely summarised and explained here too. It would be hard to imagine anyone agreeing with everything Garnett has to say, he's simply to much of a maverick to interpret all the events he discusses through a singly party-line; but I defy anyone not to find this book absorbing, gripping and thought-provoking.  

Book Notes: The Crucified Jew: Twenty Centuries of Christian Anti-Semitism by Dan Cohn-Sherbok

As readers of this blog will be aware, over the years, I have read about and reflected often on the Shoah, the Holocaust of the European Jews in the 1940s. You can read some of these posts here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, and here. Until now, however, I have never read anything which really tries to examine the Holocaust as part of the long history of Anti-Semitism in general, and the role of Christianity within that. The Crucified Jew: Twenty Centuries of Christian Anti-Semitism by Dan Cohn-Sherbok is exactly that. As a book reviewer who is part of the Christian faith, my response to such a work is simply this: read it and weep.

The first half of the book is divided by eras, with a mass of information on Anti-Semitism gathered under heading such as "The Greco-Roman World", or "The Church Fathers" or "Medieval Anti-Semitism". As the latter half of the book moves into the modern era, and so presumably sources become more abundant, the material is subdivided by nations, and specific historical incidents, such as Nazism, and post-Nazi Europe. While there are some criticisms to be made around the margins of the book; the main theme and thrust of what Cohn-Sherbok amasses here is as undeniable as it is disturbing. The litany of libels, pogroms, expulsions, murders, demonisations, and all manner of hate-crimes recorded here, is shocking. What is appalling, and disgusting, is how many of these were committed in the name of the Christian religion - at times with the collaboration of church leaders. While many people will be familiar with the accusation that the papacy was morally tarnished by its dealings with the Third Reich; what is perhaps less known is how far this was a part of a trend which reared its ugly head at regular, sorry intervals throughout history. This is truly grim reading.

The quibbles I had with a few aspects of the book, should not be, in any way whatsoever, seen to be detracting from the importance of the central thesis it contains: that Jewish people have been systematically mistreated  in the name of Christianity from Britain to Russia via most most points between them. They are however worth noting in passing, inasmuch as this is a book review, not a historical essay. The first is that there is a dreadful lack of referencing in the book. Even whole inset paragraphs, attributed to an array of writers, are not referenced! In terms of historical writing this is poor, not just in terms of fact-checking, but also further reading.

The element I struggled most with however, was Cohn-Sherbok's repeated assertion that the New Testament documents are intrinsically Anti-Semitic, because of the theological premise that God's salvation is found uniquely in Christ, and that He is the fulfilment of scripture; the implication being that to reject Christ is to reject YWHW. Furthermore, Christ's battles with the religious authorities of his day, referred to as 'The Jews', whose false legalistic righteousness is contrasted poorly with those who repent and follow Christ - is interpreted as a pro-Gentile anti-Jewish text, which prepares the way for prejudice and violence. There are numerous problems with this. The first is that the context of these documents is a largely Jewish early church wrestling with these questions amongst themselves; whilst being persecuted by the Jewish authorities of their day. They were no more anti-Semitic than Jeremiah or Amos were as they warned Israel and Judah about their apostasy back in the Hebrew Bible in centuries "BC". Likewise the righteous who appear in the gospels in contrast to the religious leaders were categorically not gentiles, but the poor from amongst Israel. That such texts were misappropriated by Anti-Semites for thousands of years, is not in any doubt; what I am not convinced by is the suggestion that these texts in any way justify any form of Anti-Semitism. Whilst someone reading these words in the context of The Spanish Inquisition might have read them that way, is possible; but what I can say is that being brought up on these texts in the post-Holocaust era; I never found even the slightest inference of prejudice in them. In fact, in the conservative church in which I grew up, the age-old slander that the Jews were "Christ-killers", was never even allured to. Rather, at communion services, we were constantly told to reflect on our own unspeakable sinfulness; for which Christ offered his own life on the cross.

We must be able to debate and discuss ideas, with rigour; without hating, or despising, or persecuting people. That distinction is under increasing threat in today's world. In a couple of places, Cohn-Sherbok seemed to come close to implying that to critique Jewish theology was essentially racist. The charge that 19thC Higher Criticism, and the application of techniques such as form and redaction criticism, were Anti-Semitic, because they undermined trust in the Hebrew Bible, I found very odd indeed. For a start such methods were applied to the New Testament as well, casting doubts (for instance) into the Pauline authorship of Ephesians; so singling out literary critical methods as prejudice-inducing, is misplaced. Another problem, is that while Cohn-Sherbok amasses a case against Christianity, he muddies the waters by including the writings and actions of many westerners who are far from Christian; Voltaire, Wagner, Marx, Hitler and Hegel for a start. This does not negate, his argument but confuses it a bit. Finally, there is inadequate discussion of the nature of church-state-identity relations in the 'Christendom' era; which explains why Judaism was seen as intolerable. Historians of these era, have shown that religious compliance was a matter of loyalty and identity more than belief and conviction; and that all dissenters (such as the Anabaptists) were brutally suppressed along with the Jews. Now, this does not, justify the evil actions of the perpetrators, any more than it mitigates the suffering of the victims. It does suggest however that the historical processes were more nuanced than Cohn-Sherbok's 'Christians have always hated Jews' thesis allows.

But please note; these quibbles do not detract from the central thrust of the book; that Jewish people have suffered appallingly, across the centuries, and across cultures; suffering many persecutions at the hands of those who claimed to be Christian. The main sections of this book are as disturbing, as they are essential reading.

The conclusion of the book, after an especially harrowing account of the Holocaust (but a weak attempt to implicate Christianity in it); is a really interesting essay. In 'towards reconciliation', Cohn-Sherbok writes about shifts in Christian thought which have reduced tensions between the two-faiths; despite such a long history of misunderstanding, prejudice, and bloodshed between them. Helpfully these include (i) official denunciations of Anti-Semitism from church bodies and Synods, (ii) a theological rediscovery of the Jewishness of Jesus of Nazareth - a very rich area of research and now common currency in the church, and (iii) alternatives to strict 'replacement theology' being proposed, not least by Messianic Jews today and (iv) Christian theological responses to the Shoah, such as Jurgen Moltmann's Crucified God, which while distinctly Christian in nature and Trinitarian in structure, suggests profound ways of engaging with the presence of God in a world marked by unrestrained and demonic evil such as the death camps. Perhaps less helpful, were the suggestions that Christians should dilute their theology into a Jon Hick style plurality, or Liberal Anglican disdain for proclaiming Christ to the whole world. Obviously the threats or bribery which sought external compliance with Christendom, are as unacceptable as they are redundant; but the UN Declaration on Human Rights (Article 18 - Freedom of Religion), was written in response to the terrors of the 30's and 40s, and applies to all. Increasingly, of course, the context of the Christian witness to Jewish people is that of Messianic Jews, who join the debate about whether or not Jesus of Nazareth was the Jewish Messiah, from within the Jewish people - and that looks a lot more like the New Testament anyway.

As I write, the Labour Party in the UK is involved in a bitter internal dispute about Anti-Semitism. The suggestion that the radical left's unquestioning commitment to the Palestinian cause, and the large Muslim vote in the English cities, is fuelling such a problem is made almost daily in the press. Six years ago I went to the Memorial for the Murdered Jews of Europe in Berlin. Deeply moved, walking above the stelae above ground, we then went below to see the records where the names of every known Jew who perished at Treblinka, Sobibor, Birkenau, Ravensbruck, Auschwitz and the rest, are kept. Even then, I shuddered at the enormity of it. After reading The Crucified Jew, I suspect that the feeling would be greatly amplified; standing as I do, in a faith which has been so deeply implicated in their suffering over the centuries. Now, I am not personally responsible for the pogroms, any more than the Jews of 13th Century England caused the death of Christ. Nevertheless, we are branches on trees with very deep roots; defined by and both united and divided by our respective histories. The weight that presses down on us is therefore not so much personal guilt, more the sense of responsibility to prevent such things ever happening again to anyone of any creed. It was possibly the greatest of the all the writers to have escaped from the camps, Primo Levi who wrote; "It happened, therefore it could happen again; this is the heart of what we are saying." Indeed it could.

This is disturbing reading. Sometimes though, I think we need to be disturbed.

Film Notes: Of Gods And Men

I picked up this DVD for a quid, in a sale of old LoveFilm stock. In the days before Netflix and downloading was a thing, postal DVD services were popular; but their demise led to some amazing deals. I'd heard that this was a 'film worth watching' and without knowing much about it at all, picked it up on the off chance. It turned out to be a deeply sad, very moving, and rather profound film.

The setting is Algeria in 1996, as the government start to lose control of the state, and Islamist militants cause misery and chaos in their quest for an Islamic revolution. In a remote corner of the country a small Roman Catholic monastery had functioned for years. Alongside their own rituals, and devotions, they served the community and provided healthcare and support. The film depicts them as being very much part of the community, in which they served; sharing life, hospitality and friendships across the religious divide.

The central plot of the film is whether the monks should abandon the monastery and flee, either to a safer monastery in Africa, or indeed back to France; as Islamist atrocities take place with ever increasing frequency - and in ever closer proximity to them. They face, essentially, a decision to run away from their calling, or to face death for it. The Muslim villagers certainly do not want the monks to leave - but to face up to the threat of the extremists alongside them. The discussions around the small monastery table in which they debate this decision are amongst the best moments in the film. One monk, determined to stay, says to a younger colleague (who wants to leave), "we already gave up our lives, when we decided to follow Christ". Strong stuff indeed.

As the film draws to a climax, the monks with sorrow and resolve, face up to the inevitability that as non-Muslims in an Islamist take-over, they are doomed. With their songs, liturgies, and around the eucharist; they re-affirm their faith even as the dark clouds gather around them.

This is actually a true story. Which possibly explains why there is more detail about the two monks who survived the ordeal; than the mystery about the deaths of the rest of those who did not. We see, finally, the sad group being led away to their deaths; and a caption reading that nothing is know about who murdered them. 

Lambert Wilson gives a really strong performance as the head monk, alongside Michael Edward Lonsdale as Luc - the medical brother, It's a slow film; in that the rhythms of life in the monastery which have survived generations are depicted. It's not an action film, in that the plot develops as much in the brooding tension and the monks' response to it; as in the actual civil war. That kind of cinema is far harder to write and produce than action; but it is done very well indeed here.

The film is a stunning protest against religious extremism, religion violence and intolerance. This message, along with the context of the last monks in an ancient monastery in Muslim lands, is somewhat reminiscent of William Dalrymple's stunning book, From the Holy Mountain. Although set further east, amongst the Orthodox and Coptic churches, not the French Catholics of Algeria, the extinction of these people and orders is a parallel story; and very worth reading.

The monks in this film share a 'Last Supper' together, waiting to face death, as Christ did before them. One wavering monk faces up to this with the biblical quotation, ''no servant is greater than his master'- in other words, if martyrdom was good enough for Christ himself, who am I to demand anything more? With their faith and integrity intact, they are then led away.

FORB (freedom of religion and belief), as enshrined in Article 18 of the UN Convention on Human Rights; is under more strain then in 1996 when these awful events occurred. Tragically, CSW (the Christian charity that works for freedom of religion for all people, of all faiths or none) reports that this is increasingly the case in Algeria. Click here to read more.

Book Notes: The Varieties of Religious Repression by Ani Sarkissian

It is sixty-eight years since the UN Declaration of Universal Human Rights was signed. 

The lofty aspirations contained in that document have not been fulfilled, no more so, than those of its eighteenth article, which states: "Everyone shall have the right to freedom of thought, conscience and religion." Outright persecutors of believers, such as the North Korean regime, are the obvious perpetrators of such human rights abuses. Less visible is what Ani Sarkissian calls “religious repression”. That is, violation of religious freedom by governments, which while not constituting full persecution, involves ongoing restriction, control and interference with religious people, organisations and activities. Her book, “The Varieties of Religious Repression: Why Governments Repress Religion” is an intelligent, rigorous and highly revealing study of the politics of repression implemented by non-Democratic governments, and is a most welcome addition to our understanding of a neglected field.

Sarkissian’s book uses an innovative typology of regimes which adds sophistication to our understanding of how governments behave. Regimes have traditionally been placed on a scale from fully-democratic, to completely autocratic. Sarkissian notes however, that while there was a tendency for more democratic regimes to repress religion less, “many states with low levels of political-competition… chose not to impose a large number of restrictions on religion, while some…. with relatively higher levels of political competition impose a large variety of restrictive regulations.” (p182). Instead she groups regimes into four categories; those who (i) repress all religion (e.g. China); (ii) those who repress all but one religion (e.g. Russia); (iii) those who repress some religions (e.g. Singapore) and (iv), those who do not repress religion (e.g. Albania). Using this schema, Sarkissian is able to demonstrate that it is not just levels of democratic participation in government which dictate the extent of religious freedom; but it is these in combination with the levels of religious division within the society which provoke governments to repress in the ways they do. 

Non-democratic regimes appear to repress on a basis of their own rational choices in their particular circumstances as follows; “states with very low political-competition that are religiously divided tend to repress all religious groups, while those with higher levels of political competition but less religiously divided societies repress none.” (p183). Then, “States in the middle of the political-competition and religious division scales, repress some religious groups”, while a “subset of states that have higher religious divisions but more competitive political systems target repression at all but one religious group.” (p183). The final conclusion is that some highly  autocratic regimes find it rational to allow genuine freedom of religion. The sixteen national case-studies with which Sarkissian illustrates her thesis are informative, well-crafted and compelling; and form the heart of the book.

The implications of Sarkissian’s work are important. Much western rhetoric and policy seems to assume that democratisation is an automatic route towards the flourishing of a full civil society, apart from the state. If that was true in the Cold War, it certainly does not reflect the complex realities of today’s world. Also, people of all faiths should beware of assuming that they have a monopoly on victimisation too, as state-repression by non-democratic governments affects all. Christians are, I think, provoked to move beyond simply invoking the inevitable enmity of the world to the church, to see that such tensions are mediated through political systems which can be understood and therefore reckoned with more wisely. She also notes that while she has studied non-democratic regimes, her work suggests that a democracy containing major religious divisions, and a single dominant political party, might equally begin to limit religious freedom (p185).

Sarkissian has done a great job in enhancing our understanding of the often fraught relationships between faith-groups and non-democratic regimes. She has done this by adding a vital layer of complexity to the ‘state’ side of the relationship. If the book has a weakness, it is simply that she has not done the same for the ‘religion’ side of the equation. There is a tendency throughout the book to treat ‘religion’ as a single phenomenon. That such a method is overly simplistic, in a world in which ‘religion’ leads some to armed jihad and others to pacifism, is obvious. Sarkissian acknowledges this in her closing remarks in which she both adds an afterword about the current problems in the Islamic world, and suggests that future research might nuance her model perhaps around a classification of religious behaviours. (p187) The reader is left hugely informed about how governments act, but also wondering how differently varying religious systems operate in this arena. Perhaps categorising religious groups according to their understanding of the state-religion relationship, would make a useful next step. Likewise, while this intriguing work of political science explains why regimes repress; it generally avoids the questions of political philosophy, such as what the legitimate limits of freedom are; and when governments are justified in imposing them.

Sarkissian’s “The Varieties of Religious Repression”, is an astute and penetrating analysis of one of the most critical contemporary issues. 

________

First published in Solas Magazine. Used with permission.

Book Notes: The Book That Made Your World by Vishal Mangalwadi

Vishal Mangalwadi’s “The Book That Made Your World”, is by any measure an extraordinary read.  

Growing up in the Indian city of Allahabad, Mangalwadi sensed a disconnect between the predominant interpretation of Christianity, and his experience. Hindu academics such as Arun Shourie described the presence of Christianity in India as a “conspiracy of British Imperialism”, yet Mangalwadi observed that Christianity differed substantially from the colonial legacy. Furthermore wherever this Christian influence occurred it seemed to foster benefits to the whole community. Seeking to understand this dichotomy, Mangalwadi embarked on a massive research project, exploring the effect which the Bible has on cultures and societies. The results, which are brought together in this volume, are profound.

Mangalwadi’s book ranges effortlessly though history, politics, economics, theology, sociology, and philosophy. His conclusion is that cultures which are rooted in the Bible, provide the best environment for human flourishing.  He argues, for example, that Indian science was held back by the prevailing belief in ‘maya’, (the irrelevance of the material realm), and only prospered under the influence of a biblical worldview which affirmed that God had created. In education, he traces the successes of ‘western’ schooling to their biblical founders, who believed in knowledge, language and equality. He argues that Bible-rooted societies are more just; and presents remarkable evidence correlating such societies to low levels of corruption – which in turn facilitates economic growth. In the face of human suffering, Mangalwadi argues that religions which present a distant deity, and those who teach ‘karma’, are relatively indifferent to it; whereas the Bible inspires repeated assaults upon it. Politically, he argues that it is only the biblical notion of humanity made in the image of God, which has made functioning democracy and a free press possible. “Nonbiblical cultures only pay lip-service to a free press”, he states (p175). Likewise, it is societies with roots in the Bible, who have lead the way in women’s rights, he notes.

The book concludes with a plea to ‘the West’, not to abandon the source of what has made it great. His argument is that our society will wither, and we will be inordinately diminished if we abandon the biblical-worldview which nurtured our gains.  

Western readers will be stirred, not just by these cultural observations, but also by a book which doesn’t limit the effect of the gospel of Christ to the individual, as we are peculiarly prone to do. Mangalwadi might at times appear to be a little more pro-Western than any European or American author might be comfortable with; but is free from any suspicion of being nationalistic or ethnocentric in this regard.

It is routinely assumed that Christian mission was a mere prop for colonialism. We are told that the biblical worldview is responsible for environmental exploitation, and that the we should cast our eyes Eastward for a more enlightened view. Likewise, the Bible is referred to in popular culture as a repressive or dangerous book. That such views are simplistic and misleading is axiomatic; but Mangalwadi’s “The Book That Made Your World” shows just what is wrong with them, and develops a strong case that where the Bible has been taken seriously, human societies have made some of their greatest and most significant advances.

Mangalwadi has provided a book of massive scope with huge implications, which should be read and reckoned with, by both the Bible’s admirers and detractors alike.

_______

First published in Solas Magazine (www.solas-cpc.org)

Book Notes: Not A Choice, Not a Job, Exposing the Myths about Prostitution and the Global Sex Trade by Janice Raymond

 Janice G. Raymond’s book, “Not a Choice, Not a Job: Exposing the Myths About Prostitution and the Global Sex Trade”, describes a spectrum of responses to prostitution, stretching from Stockholm to Amsterdam. At one end, the Dutch government has pioneered an approach which provides a legal framework, within which the ‘sex-trade’ can operate openly. Their view is that prostitution is inevitable and so should be normalised, giving the state some control over its’ worst elements. Foundational to this approach is the claim that there is an objective and observable difference between consensual contractual sex, and coercive, exploitative prostitution. Those within the industry who support this view describe themselves as ‘sex-workers’.

At the other end of the spectrum, the Swedish government has adopted a model which criminalises the purchase of sex. Focussing their attention on the demand, rather than supply of commercial sex; they implicitly endorse the view that for vast numbers of women in prostitution, this is not a ‘normal industry’ but a global economy of abuse. They argue that there is no discernable dividing line between consensual sex-work and abusive prostitution in the context where the vast majority of transactions involve richer, more powerful men, paying pimps for their supposed right to buy the bodies of poorer, more vulnerable, women. This view is often supported by former prostitutes who reject the legitimizing language of ‘sex-work’, but call themselves, ‘survivors’. They repeatedly state that acquiescence to abuse under duress, or without other meaningful choices, does not constitute consent; and that prostitution is therefore little more than financially compensated rape.

Raymond’s book is a detailed argument in favour of the Swedish or ‘Nordic Model’, and against the normalisation of the purchase of women for sex. Raymond writes from a feminist-abolitionist perspective, and her book is a disturbing yet highly persuasive polemic, written with the tools of the scholar, but the passion of an advocate. Drawing on UN-reports, NGO studies and academic research, Raymond argues that legalisation and normalisation have failed to deliver any of their supposed harm-reductions. Cities like Amsterdam, far from having a decriminalised and controlled sex-industry, are in fact centres of crime, abuse, people-trafficking and child sexual abuse. In contrast, Sweden’s ten-year review of its policy saw significant reductions in abuse, high numbers of survivors escaping the trade, and 70% public approval of their approach; she asserts.

Underlying Raymond’s approach is her view that all prostitution is damaging and exploitative. Therefore, attempts to reduce-harm are doomed to failure, and primarily serve to protect the profits of pimps and traffickers. Prostitution and trafficking are on the political agenda across Europe. Raymond claims that the Dutch perspective is being promoted by governments, those who profit from commercial sex, and the media. In contrast, the merits of the Nordic model are not being heard across the Continent, despite some smaller parliaments (such as Northern Ireland) recently adopting this approach.

In seeking to understand the humanity and social benefits of the Nordic model, “Not a Choice, Not a Job: Exposing the Myths About Prostitution and the Global Sex Trade”, is the place to start.

________

First published in Solas Magazine, reproduced with permission (www.solas-cpc.org)

Book Notes: Days of Rage, America's Radical Underground, The FBI and the Forgotten Age of Revolutionary Violence by Bryan Burrough

Bryan Burrough's "Days of Rage" tells the stories of the radical terrorist groups which emerged from the tumult of the 1960s, each of which took their grievances against the USA and or capitalism to violent extremes. As the hippie ideal descended into disillusionment and despair, disparate groups emerged who no longer saw a future in love, peace, weed, free love and dropping out; but instead actively sought revolution.

The book chronicles the rise and fall of a plethora of these groups, notably the Weather Underground, which emerged from the Students for a Democratic Society (SDS), went underground and tried to provoke a popular uprising through a bombing campaign. Others like the Black Liberation Army came from the Black Panthers, the Simbionese Liberation Army - of Patty Hearst infamy, the FALN, The Family etc. Whether inspired by Marx or Mao, by the end of the Civil Rights Movement, by Puerto Rican Independence, or an ill defined rage; Burrough's described each group, their main characters, main actions, factions and eccentricities - and how each of them ground to a halt. Some fell apart in drug-fuelled acrimony, some fled the country, others re-emerged into normal life, others were busted by the FBI. 

Prior to reading this book I had been aware that groups such as the BLA existed, and the career of Eldridge Cleaver and so forth occur throughout the civil rights literature. The Weather Underground, likewise are referenced, as much for their excesses and sexual proclivities in 70s literature, as for their low-grade bombing campaigns. Burrough fills in all the gaps though, describing in great detail how these groups developed, hid, gained explosives and struggled to survive. Interestingly while much of the mainstream literature seems to reference these groups as if they were fierce, ruthless and brilliant; this inside account portrays most of them as desperate, amateur, deluded, fanatical and often inept. As such he adds a great deal to understanding much of the background to these frayed ends of the sixties cultural revolution.

The problem with the book though is that it is rather heavy on description, and rather light on analysis. Intricate details of bombing-runs by Weather Underground, or FALN are described, as they are of the characters, their safe-houses, cars, physical appearance and cars. We learn about the autumn leaves blowing around the bank under surveillance for an armed robbery, for example. So too, details of the construction of home-made bombs by each group's specialist. What is fascinating is how this information was shared amongst various groups, a kind of family tree of violence. Burrough is fascinated with the internal life and dynamic of each group, some of which were as complex as those within the Rumours era Fleetwood Mac! This eye for detail is sometimes a bit much, however the fact that he records the details of so many of the victims of the attacks made by radicals is a welcome reminder that these groups frequently murdered the innocent who were not anonymous representations of the state, but real people with lives, families, children, etc.

What is lacking though, is much analysis of the ideologies which drove these groups. While the book regularly speaks of the seizure of radical literature by the FBI, little is said of the content. So too there is a fascination with the detail and progression of car chases and raids, but not much with the process by which these people were radicalised. Neither is there much comparison between the different groups to establish common patterns of causation, not much of mapping the progress of these violent ideas onto any wider sociological interpretation of currents in wider American society. The reader is left to judge for themselves whether these people were ideologues who used crime as a means to an end, or criminals who used political dogma to legitimise their criminality. Given Burough's enormous amount of factual research and remarkable access to sources, this is something of a disappointment. Burrough certainly makes it plain, that while he had access to sources, he had little sympathy for them.

All in all, this is a good read, because it tells a series of little-known, but significant stories; based on excellent research. The limitations of the book all them from the fact that is is written in the style of a newspaper scoop, rather than with a historians desire to analyse and understand. The story is told - and told very well indeed- but the questions behind the story, are not addressed. Actually, that is an overstatement.... huge numbers of questions are asked and answered at a practical level such as how could (for example Dohrn and the Weather Underground) live undetected for so long and how could they re-emerge without facing prosecution; how did they build bombs, select targets and deliver them? What is not examined is why America produced so many such groups in the early 1970s, and why the people that joined them did so, compared to others (eg in their university classes at Berkeley) who did not. Likewise, why these groups developed as they did, and not in other ways is left undeveloped as is the question of why America seemed to stop producing violent leftist groups in the 1980s.

Book Notes: Why The Rest Hates The West by Meic Pearse

Sometimes it's great to read a really thought-provoking book and Meic Pearse's "Why The Rest Hates The West" certainly qualifies for inclusion in that category. In fact, this book goes much further than being simply thought-provoking and is straightforwardly controversial and provocative. More disturbingly, though - on several substantive points, I think that Pearse might have a point.

I was recently recommended this book, which I had never come across, even though it was published back in 2003; and one of the things which commends itself to the reader is how well the arguments Pearse assembles have stood the test of time, and how accurate some of his predictions based on his analysis fourteen years ago, have proven to be.

The central thrust of this book is that a huge collision between 'The West' and 'The Rest' is evolving, which in some vases will be expressed violently. Importantly though, according to Pearse, the essential drivers of this conflict are not the usual suspects; economic jealousy, religious fundamentalism and western Foreign Policy. All these, in Pearse's view are elements which get caught up in the drama, and can be used in the conflict; but are not the essential dynamic of it. Rather, the underlying issue is one of the almost incomplete inability for the West to understand the rest; or to really grasp how we are perceived in societies other than those like our own. Pearse traces the roots of this incomprehension, lays the blame at the West's door and suggests a way forward.

Western attitudes to others have frequently been characterised by an assumed superiority, based on the technological advances and educational opportunities which followed early industrialisation and colonial dominance. John Selby Spong's infamous outburst to this effect is duly referenced as but an extreme example of what is but common cultural currency here. Pearse though is more concerned to confront the Western reader with the way in which she or he is perceived throughout swathes of the two-thirds world; and it turns out to be deeply uncomfortable reading.  In short, "Westerners are perceived..... as rich, technologically sophisticated, economically and politically dominant, morally contemptible barbarians." The book explores in considerable depth why this is the case.

Foundational to this is the perception that the West is morally bankrupt, shameless, trivial, banal and valueless; filling the vacuum which faith, values, family, tradition, roots, culture and identity should occupy, with infantile entertainment, and over-consumption. The west values scepticism over belief, and in fact is hostile to value-commitments, but celebrates non-commitment towards normative values. Worse still, the West uses its political, economic and media dominance to seek to export this model to the world; dazzling them with promises of undeliverable prosperity; whilst destroying the structures and values which actually enable the vulnerable to survive. The West's twin obsessions of absolutising rights and rejecting responsibilities on one hand, and pursuing a form of pluralism that is intolerant of beliefs; are viewed by millions as being utterly crass. "Only the hyper-rich, hyper-individualistic can live without values, purpose, meaning, or faith...... most cannot" (p19); and "We're exporting a value-less, hopeless, global culture to those who cannot cope with it, and wonder why they are angry."

The deep cleavage between these two experiences of the world, and views of it, present themselves in a series of interconnected issues which Pearse examines. The West is seen as contemptible as it despises tradition, elders, and ancestors; celebrating youth, innovation and change - in the belief that this is both 'progress' and 'inevitable'. The optimistic view of history whether in older Whig-history, Christian postmillenialism, or Marxism, is despised in much of the world, who see it as simply severing a society from all that makes it authentic - it's collective memory. The displacement of religion by consumerism, also is seen as crass; not least by those for whom the consumerism is simply not available. In most of the world, the family unit is a unit of production, in which marriage as the regulator of sexual relations is an essential element of decency, responsibility and survival. The West is seen as morally decadent, shameless and sordid in its separation of marriage from sex, and the re-making of the family as a non-intergenerational unit of entertainment and consumption; not identity, production and survival. Pearce presents a fascinating account of how we got to this dreadful state of mutual incomprehension.

Pearce then notes that the West has an ideal of an impersonal state which is sees an non-corrupt, and which it seeks to impose on the world (having decimated half the world's ancient tribal government systems); whereas the non-western world, which draws no distinction between private and non-private space finds this bizarre. He provides two examples. Only in The West would a customer be totally disinterested in the sexual behaviour of the person selling him a washing machine; as this is in the private sphere. This is a uniquely western view, whereas in most places, business, values, family, friendship and business ties are all interwoven, in a context of loyalties and the struggle to survive. Then, on a larger scale, Pearse notes that in the 1970s Afghanistan was relatively peaceful under a King who had the personal loyalty of virtually all the tribes of the country. The USSR tried to replace these non-Western relational ties with an "imagined community" based upon notions of class consciousness; and failed. The Taliban tried to replace these with an imagined community based upon Islamism; and failed. The West is now trying to re-construct the country on the basis of an imagined community based upon ideological nationalism expressed as loyalty to a western-style impersonal nation-state. If Pearse is right, this is inevitably going to fail too.

In Pearse's view, although the West gets a lot of things right; we are also 'guilty as charged' in many of these accusations. He notes the dreadful statistics of mental illness, self-esteem issues, sexual debasement, family breakdown, self-harm etc etc which mark modern Western life. He notes that traditional societies give their young people a spouse, a heritage, a job, and a place in a community. Western young people are sent out as a blank canvas to find-themselves, and end up being seen by the rest of the world as 'deracinated egotists', severed from the faith of their forebears and family and social structures which transform mere consumers into complete interconnected people. He notes that the Western sexual revolution has produced shockingly low figures for reported sexual satisfaction, and falling birth rates which are already creating a pension time-bomb. The rest of the world is incredulous that across the West we conceive enough babies to balance our population (ie. 2.1 babies per woman); but that we abort so many millions of them that we require mass immigration to stabilise our demographic profile.

According to Pearse, the only way in which a conflict between the West and The Rest can be avoided is by a Western re-think about values, and traditional family structures. Until the West stops acting in ways which the vast majority of our fellow humans see as utterly degraded, the conflict will escalate. At the very least, the West should stop its campaign of exporting its anti-values to the world through  its systems of neo-colonial political/economic and media hegemony. Governments, churches, faith groups and and communities, he says, should work together for a renewed moral vision for the West that can positively affirm the values which will connect and sustain society.

I'm not sure I could subscribe to every one of Pearse's arguments; but there is enough here, which I think is absolutely right to stimulate a re-think in terms of how we relate to the rest-of-the-world. My biggest cause for concern in the book was the lack of Non-western references amongst Pearse's many quotes, and endnotes though. While he has (according to the blurb), lived in a variety of cultures including Turkey; surely a book about the views of the Non-West, should extensively quote and cite non-Western sources; or run the accusation of appearing to assume to speak on their behalf without consultation. The book would be greatly enhanced in a further edition, by engaging more directly with non-Western authors, thinkers, writers, and commentators. Then perhaps it's already rather disturbing effect upon the Western reader would be further enhanced.

Book Notes: Post Truth by Matthew D'Ancona

What could be a more relevant book for 2017 than one examining the phenomenon of post-truth. Claims that we have moved in our society into a post-truth era are all pervasive, and involve politics, economics, ethics, diplomacy, social media, advertising and more. In this short, easy-to-read paperback, Guardian journalist, and former editor of The Spectator, Matthew D'Ancona examines the issue and proposes a response.

Wading rather nimbly through current affairs and philosophy, and drawing on a wide range of sources, D'Ancona present a powerful, and deftly written perspective. The first thing he argues is that this is a genuine phenomena and not merely a groundless media frenzy surrounding the catchphrase. He really believes that industrial scale lying is affecting our society more significantly than we have previously known. Clearly it would be nonsense to argue that historically politicians always told the truth, but this book agrees that there is an acute truth crisis in our public debate today. 

Secondly, D'Ancona examines the cultural context in which this problem has arises. While his discussion is broad, there are two main things to which he repeatedly returns; post-modernism and social media. His discussion of post-modernity leads him to suggest that the de-construction of certainty, of knowledge, institutions and sources of knowledge has moved beyond the reasonable rejection of undue deference, and into a collapse of any discernment. The post-modern trajectory to see any truth-claim as being a power-play, rather than having any basis in objective reality; might have removed some tyrannies; but created a far worse problem in its wake. 

This deconstruction of the possibility of knowable truth, has been compounded by the development of the internet. Social media, and the complex algorithms which tailor content to the viewers preferences, places people in bubbles of self-confirming views - challenges to which are defined as conspiracies. So, despite the overwhelming medical evidence of the benefits of childhood immunisation, anti-vacc communities exist on online; decrying evidence as plot, and engaging in re-enforcing cycles of confirmation bias. But this is but one example. D'Ancona suggest that whatever the issue, most people exist in self-re-enforcing knowledge bubbles, rarely encountering information which differs from their preconceptions. As such, not only are vested interests currently more willing than ever to lie, but as a population we are more susceptible to manipulation than ever. 'Fake News' delivers results, even once the fakery has been exposed.

"Learning how to navigate the web with discernment is the most pressing cultural mission of our age." p114

Alongside Anti-vaccination activists, D'Ancona attacks politicians such as Trump who score particularly poorly when his utterances are 'fact checked'; The Brexit campaign with it's dodgy bus;  believers in a metro-liberal elite with undue influence in society; and Holocaust deniers. That's quite a list; and a bit of a problem.

The problem lies here. The list of people and causes that D'Ancona sees as the fruit of post-truth and news-fakery seem to be anything to do with political positions with which he (and presumably his metro-liberal elite colleagues) disagree! Take the Brexit debate for example. I generally agree with his position, and voted to 'remain' in the EU. I also agree with him that the 'Leave' campaign had a more than flexible relationship with the truth. Boris has just been rebuked again by the Office for National Statistics for recycling the palpably false claims about the weekly contributions from the UK to the EU budget. Daniel Hannan said in the campaign, that it was simply a matter of the UK leaving the EU institutions, and that "no one is talking about leaving the single market." Of course, that's all anyone is actually interested in talking about now. However, as a remain voter, I'm also reminded that George Osborn said that a 'Leave' vote would result in a catastrophic emergency budget the next morning, which also turned out to be fake. Furthermore the Leave claim that Junkers was about to seek a common EU foreign policy and standing army turned out to be true; while their claim that Turkey were about to be granted member status was fake. Obviously there are thoughtful, principled people on both sides; but when a result is a close as this referendum was, perhaps only a few needed to be persuaded by fakery to swing the result. But D'Ancona only seems to focus on the Brexiteers post-truthiness, lumping it in together with a Trump-ish populism which rejects evidence in favour of feeling, and membership in self-affirming thought bubbles. His selection of post-truth fakers which reflect his political opponents, might suggest that as well as being an astute observer of post-truth; he is unwittingly also a casual participant.

A deeper question I suspect, lies unanswered beneath these causes and examples of post-truth which D'Ancona discusses. He hints at it on p112

"Our own Post-Truth era is a taste of what happens when a society abandons its defence of the values that underpin its cohesion, order and progress: the values of veracity, honesty and accountability."

According to writers as diverse as Vishal Mangalwadi, Alister McGrath and Nick Spencer, in our country, these very things have grown from a distinctly Christian set of beliefs and values. It is no great step to argue therefore that the secular project of the last fifty years has failed to adequately ground its aspirations for society in a base which can bear its demands. Just as the fruits of coherence grew from a plant with deep roots in Christian soil, perhaps post-Christian and post-modern society no longer has any fundamental commitment to truth, nor sense of accountability. The truism of historical research is that contemporary historians simply cannot imagine a world in which religious values influenced every sphere of life (that's why they do crass things like measure religiosity by church attendance, when a fallen Victorian drunk might sit in a gin palace using the Christian narrative to understand his predicament and point to his redemption). But I digress. Truth is a central concern of the Christian faith; the prohibition on lying in the 10 Commandments is but a starting point for an arc which culminates in the idea of Jesus Christ appearing on earth as truth incarnate; and that we are divinely accountable for every word we say. If you saturate a culture in such thinking for over a millennia, make it the basis for holding truth as objectively valuable; then strip away such thinking in under fifty years; then some diminution in veracity is perhaps inevitable. That of course is not to say that there are not countless people who are secular in their thought but perfectly decent in the actions. However, it is to say that there are such people who do not realise the roots of, and sources of, the moral universe they have so happily inhabited.

Finally, D'Ancona ends his book with a chapter on how to 'fight back' against fake news. Most of this is fair enough, and contains some useful thoughts in engaging the heart of the hearer along with the head. He notes the way in which the 'remain' campaign wrongly thought that the argument would be won by the sober repetition of economic forecasts, which turned out to be less effective than the appeal to heart to seize control, or cry freedom from Brexiteers. The Scottish Referendum campaign was characterised by significant differences on this score too, albeit with a different outcome.

Another comment worth making at this stage is that there is a role for each of us to fight back against fakery and post-truth in whatever context we find ourselves. Rejection of fake news which supports a cause in which are personally invested might be a significant step. Scare-mongering, lying and news-faking is objectionable, whether the cause is a good, bad or indifferent one. Having argued that the Christian faith is something which places truth-telling in high regard, for Christians we must make sure that our house, 'the church' is in order here. It is not enough for us to argue the historical/cultural apologetic, as I have here, if we are not prepared to call-out the fakers and fraudsters who lurk amongst us. So when phoney TV evangelists, snake-oil salesmen and prosperity preachers some peddling their wares we should collectively disown them as not being part of the Christian faith. Figures of church growth or decline should be objectively analysed and not handed to spin doctors, while any claims of divine healing should be critically examined by real doctors. 

And if you want some advice on where the future lies. After reading D'Ancona, I'd suggest investing everything you have in establishing a fact-checking agency, with researchers, statisticians and analysts. In a future world in which information-overload will reach ever more unmanageable levels, enormous power and influence will lie with anyone who can gain a reputation as an unbiased, rigorous, incorruptible fact checker.

D'Ancona's Post Truth is far from being the last word on this essential subject, but it is a very good place to start thinking and open the discussion. 

Book Notes: Stalin's Daughter by Rosemary Sullivan

There are several things which can make reading a biography a disappointing experience. The first is that despite the historic events surrounding the central character, he or she turns out to be rather dull. The second, is the opposite, where an author has profiled someone who might have been an unusual character but one who had the fortune to live through rather mundane times. The third hole into which many a biography has tripped, is simply of poor simplistic writing that merely lists events and never gets under the skin of the characters. Happily, Rosemary Sullivan's "Stalin's Daughter" is gloriously free from any of these three flaws. As such it makes terrific reading.

Svetlana Alliluyeva grew up in the Kremlin under the shadow of her all-powerful and toxically paranoid father, Joseph Stalin. Adored, manipulated, controlled, sometimes ignored and totally dominated by Stalin, Svetlana grew up in the strange world of the Purges, Show-trials, disappearances and insecurity of Stalin's Court. Enduring the suicide of her mother, and the personal crises of his henchmen as they rose and fell, the exile and executions from which her own household was not spared; as well as the national crises of WWII, each left their imprint on her young mind. Sullivan's book though estimates that it was the shadow of Stalin himself hanging over her which created the darkness which Svetlana never really outran. Despite chapter after chapter chronicling her tumultuous life, every episode seems to represent her trying some new scheme to reinvent herself; but still being seen by the world as 'Stalin's Daughter'. It is of course telling that the title of the biography is not "The extraordinary life of Svetlana Allilueyeva" (or even Lana Peters as she was subsequently known), but Stalin's Daughter.

Childhood, bereavement, marriages, motherhood, defection to the West, re-defection to the Soviet bloc, escape to the West, India, conversion to Russian Orthodox Christianity, friendships, writing, and her bizarre life at the Taliesin architects commune, under the dictatorship of Frank Lloyd-Wright's widow, Olgivanna; are all episodes in an extraordinary life. 

So here is a biography which is an exceptionally well-crafted examination, of a character who turns out to be immeasurably complex and interesting; but who wasn't on the run just from some personal demons; but on a a quest to free herself from one of the central forces of the twentieth century. Just as the spectre of Stalin haunted her, defined her - and especially defined how virtually everyone ever related to her; so the great battle between Capitalism and Marxism framed her experience. It is almost as though the Cold War itself flowed through her veins, just as the DNA of Joseph Stalin did. Sullivan's book is not short, but it is compelling. She seems to have gained unusual access to Soviet era friends, family and archives as well as people who knew her during her latter years in the West; making this an authoritative and informative read, not just another sensationalist write-up, the likes of which Svetlana was repeatedly exposed to during her tempestuous life.

If you are looking for a biography which is well written, highly readable, and paints a picture of a wildly unique character, living in the centre of hugely significant history, then Sullivan has provided the book you are looking for. 

Book Notes: Return of a King by William Dalrymple

Having been deeply impressed by Dalrymple's "From the Holy Mountain", I was delighted to see his epic, "The Return of a King", in the massive second hand book sale in Edinburgh, run annually by Christian Aid. As an aside, I gather that the rather sedate-looking book-sale has been plagued by controversy of late. Apparently professional book-sellers have been accused of buying up the bargains, in order to re-sell them at higher prices elsewhere! If true, that is pretty shameless on the part of the book-traders, considering the good that Christian Aid do around the world, and the bargains that the public are being deprived of, from books which have been donated!

I settled down with this Dalrymple' volume on a long-haul flight this summer, and was transfixed by what I read; almost transported in fact, to another time, and place. This is historical writing at it's very best; a well-researched, beautifully written account of events which have huge resonance with the present time.

The book begins with an account of two feuding dynasties in Afghanistan in the early decades of the 19th Century, The Sadozais and The Barakzais. It then explores both British and Russian spying and intrigues in the region; as both jostled in the 'great game' for colonial dominance in India. With an eye for great character sketches, and an eye for detail, Dalrymple demonstrates how the British (Under the guise of the East India Company - the great Colonial Qango) were drawn into supporting Sadozai leader Shah Shuja, and helping to restore him to power in Kabul, with a supporting British invasion in 1842. In return the opposing Barakzais, and their leader Dost Mohammad, were able to unite the disparate groups in Afghanistan under the badge of Islam and jihad, to rally and radicalise against their enemies who ruled with British (ie. infidel) support. The disastrous defeat of the British invasion force, was a massive blow to the proud Imperial British, who acted to re-invade and inflict severe reprisals on the country, for what they saw as its defiant impudence!

What makes this book really live is the sparkling prose, with which Dalrymple delights the reader, and with which he is able to present great details and serious research, without getting bogged down. There's more than that though; it is also the character studies of people such as Dost Mohammad, Shah Shujah, Alexander Burnes, Robert Sale, Lady Sale, William Macnaughten and so many others, are also so well sketched and woven into the narrative, that the reader is instinctively hooked, fascinated and intrigued by their unfolding biographies. Additionally the numerous obvious parallels with the recent western invasion of Afghanistan are the reason Dalrymple went to Afghanistan to research this book in the first place. It seems the lessons the British were taught in 1842 were forgotten by the time Soviet Russia sought to conquer Afghanistan, and forgotten again even more swiftly in the post 9/11 invasion. Failures to plan for the post-conflict era, failures to equip troops properly, failures to understand the local ideology, failures to deal with the geography, failures to understand the complex inter-tribal politics, (and so forth), dogged the British invasion in 1842, exactly as the recent invasion was.

Even though it is now several weeks since I finished reading this book, there are scenes in it which I can still see in my mind; such is the clarity and power of Dalrymple's writing. It is quite simply an outstanding read. Perhaps another reason I so valued this book was that it opened up a whole area of unexplored history for me. There are certain areas of history which I have read a fair bit about (such as Victorian Society, American Civil Rights, Church History); but I am shockingly ignorant about the early stages of The British Empire in general, and about Afghanistan in particular. Dalrymple is a reliable, meticulous and hugely engaging guide to this still hugely relevant subject.

On the dust jacket there is a commendation for the book from Maya Jasanoff, who writes, "Dalrymple researches like a historian, thinks like an anthropologist and writes like a novelist". Too often, such commendations merely set the reader up for an anti-climactic disappointment with the actual contents of the book/ I think though, in this case, such astute praise is well deserved.

Mark Twain explains the 2017 General Election...

Men think they think upon the great political questions, and they do; but they think with their party, not independently; they read its literature, but not that of the other side; they arrive at convictions but they are drawn from a partial view of the matter in hand and are of no particular value. They swarm with their party, they feel with their party, they are happy in their party's approval; and where the party leads they will follow, whether for right or honor, or through blood and dirt and a mush of mutilated morals.

-Mark Twain ('Corn-pone Opinions')

Film Notes: Hannah Arendt

In 2012, Margarethe von Trotta embarked on a project to make a film about the political theorist Hannah Arendt, specifically focusing on her reporting of the trial of Adolf Eichmann in Israel. The results are a film which, although perhaps not a great work of art - is a superbly entertaining way of opening up some very important issues. Indeed, if the issues which are exposed in the film were important in 2012, they are even more so in the more dangerous and turbulent world of 2017. 

The film opens with the kidnap of a man, who is bundled into a truck and taken away. We soon learn that the operation had been carried out by Mossad, and that the man taken was Adolf Eichmann, a key figure in the planning and execution of the Nazi Holocaust from his Berlin office. Eichmann had escaped from Germany at the end of the war, avoided Nuremburg, and spent several decades in hiding in South America. The Eichmann trial in 1961 was the subject of enormous interest around the world; and a great deal of the popular reporting involved dealing with Eichmann as a demonic hate-twisted figure, a kind of human embodiment of evil.

Hannah Arendt was a political philosopher who, because of Jewish identity, had fled from Hitler in the 30s, only to be imprisoned in France after the Nazi invasion. She had escaped and fled to the USA where in the postwar years she had forged a career as an academic, writing extensively about totalitarianism. Arendt was intrigued by the Eichmann trial, and even more intrigued by the way in which it was being represented in Israel and in the West. Determined to assess the matter for herself, she sought (and got), a commission from The New Yorker magazine to write a series of essays about the trial. The film focuses on Arendt's coverage of the Eichmann trial, her writing about it - and the controversy it caused.

In Arendt's estimation, Eichmann wasn't an individual who was motivated by hatred of The Jewish people, some kind of contorted, satanic figure, quite unlike normal people. Rather, he was a dull man who had surrendered his individual personhood in the face of totalitarianism, and lost the capacity for rational thought or protest. The phrase that Arendt gave to the language was "the banality of evil".

This of course is deeply disturbing, as the instinct of all decent people to the evil of Nazism is to recoil and to reassure our selves that we do not have the capacity for such evil. Eichmann though, while organising train timetables for the deportation of victims, did his dull work without any critical thought, patiently working his index files and filing to ghastly effect. It wasn't that he was stupid though, we see in the film that Eichmann was so systematised that he didn't merely 'follow-orders' under threat, but that he equated the Fuhrer's will with the law itself, and that stood in place of any objective morality. He did not plan, invent or ideologise the Final Solution, he was but a banal cog in monstrous system. 

If evil looks utterly different to us, it is comfortable to live with. If we can portray those who have collaborated with great evil as being totally unlike us, characters with nothing but warped, satanic delusions controlling their poisoned minds - then the problem of evil is externalised and we feel unsullied. The film shows that this view dominated the public narrative about Eichmann. Arendt then caused a storm, because her version of Eichmann looked a lot like us, an unremarkable person who had lost his individuality in the face of totalitarianism, who simply lacked the imagination and will to do anything but comply. The line between good and evil then is not drawn between us and others, (the kind of evil which can be kept out by building walls), but runs through each of us. The kind of evil of which Eichmann indulged, is the kind that affects us when we are too banal to discern what is wrong with the world in which we live - and to make a stand against it.

The film moves on to show that reaction to Arendt was savage, she was scorned and blacklisted by all manner of academics and survivors of the holocaust. She was accused of being a self-hating Jew, an anti-Semite, a Nazi sympathiser, and seen as defending Eichmann; while of course she was nothing of the sort, and actually supported the death sentence which was finally handed down. This furore was further stoked when in one of the Eichmann articles Arendt drew attention to the fact that some Jewish leaders had collaborated with the Nazis, which struck another blow against the view that evil is something which affects the other and not ourselves. The final scenes involve Arendt seeking to defend her thesis, and losing old friends because of her approach.

Along with the action in the courtroom, debates amongst academics, and in editorial boards, the film also charts Arendt's personal life during this period. Barbara Sukowa puts in a strong lead performance as the chain-smoking Arendt, ably supported by a good cast who move between English and German (with subtitles), as the action crosses between continents.

In 2017, with a refugee crisis erupting around us, with great uncertainty in Russia and Ukraine, and surging nationalism across Europe, extraordinary volatility in Washington; and the final collapse of the millenia-old Christian moral system as a basis for western ethics; this film seems to be apposite. Not one of us would contemplate active persecuting hatred of 'the other'; that kind of evil is unthinkable. No, the kind of evil we are capable of is that of sheer banality in the face of oppression; of filling our days with things of no consequence, while the system of which we are a part allows the deaths of uncountable numbers of precious souls, from the womb to the migrant camp. The temptation is to picture evil clothed in swastikas, and jackboots. Eichmann's evil came carrying a clipboard and a card index, and looked disturbingly familiar. In the French film, Au Revoir Les Enfants, the children carted away from the little rural school to die in Auschwitz were organised and processed by a dull, and rather pedantic, fat bureaucrat, who wanted to be something like a bank clerk. He is one of the most frightening figures in film, because he isn't Hannibal Lecter, or Frankenstein, he's utterly banal and sees the whole thing as an administative burden he would rather do without. This is a kind of evil which  too close to us for comfort. No wonder they didn't like Arendt's articles.

This is a fascinating film, which contains huge amounts to think about.

Film Notes: Under the Bombs

Phillippe Aractingi's 2007 film Under the Bombs (French: Sous les bombes, Arabic: تحت القصف; taht alqasf‎‎), is a deep lament for civilians caught up in the violence of war. The setting is Lebanon in 2006, just as the almost month-long conflict between Israel and Hezbollah is drawing to a close under a UN brokered truce. While the war is raging as the film begins, it ends with French-UN forces arriving and a tense cease-fire generally holding sway. While the respective armies and politicians no doubt count their successes; this film focuses on the people who are left to bury their dead, and rebuild their roads, homes and families.

The film centres on two characters, Zeina and Tony; she has arrived back from Dubai in a desperate attempt to locate her sister and son, who have not been heard of since their town was bombed by the Israeli Air Force. Tony is the one taxi driver at the airport who is so in need of money (and it turns out with his personal dreams in tatters) that he is willing to drive Zeina into dangerous areas in search of her son. He is from 'the South' too, and knows the back-roads and diversionary routes around bombed out bridges, and unexploded ordnance which makes the post-combat zones enduringly dangerous. Nada Abou Farhat as Zeina and Georges Khabbaz as Tony, delivery memorable performances; begining the film as strangers, who in the course of their harrowing road-trip, discover more and more about each other's complex lives. The contrast between the fragile beauty of their humanity and the devastation which surrounds them is haunting.

Under the Bombs is superbly filmed too. According to Aractingi's interview with The Daily Telegraph, a lot it was filmed during the war, or in its immediate aftermath in 2006. The footage of ruined cities, of motorways junctions in fragments, of fleeing refugees, are real scenes of the horror of war. The cameramen took real risks in capturing this remarkable footage, which is on occasion spliced togther with archive news footage from the conflict too.

The obvious question which viewers want to know is which 'side' in the conflict the filmmakers take. Here in the West, people typically come to a film like Under the Bombs, wondering if it will be an anti-Israeli polemic, an apologetic for Hezbollah, or the inverse; a right-wing American funded justification for the Israeli bombing. The film itself turns out to be far more subtle and complex to be simply any of those things. For a start we met sympathetic characters who are Muslim as well as Lebanese Christian. Furthermore, we soon learn that one of the main characters has a brother who fought for the South Lebanses Army, who has fled to Israel, where he lives with his family  - and whose children speak fluent Hebrew. "We are not so different, we and the Jews" says one, "I don't care about politics, I don't care about religion - I just want to find my son" screams Zeina. The demarcation line

highlighted in this film is not racial, or religious; but between people of war, and those who simply want peace. "When the bombs stop, I pick my figs; when they start I hide in the caves" laments a elderly Palastinian man, who seems to speak for all those who simply want to get on with their lives. That doesn't make Under the Bombs a-political, or a piece of naive sentimentality though; we are introduced to friends and family of Tony the taxi-driver; who engage in passionate and informed debate about the many sided conflict. Tellingly though; Zeina interrupts the debate, and she and Tony leave to continue their tragic search. For her part Zeina looks as disgusted with the Israeli planes who kill her sister, as she does with the Hezbollah leaders who politicise the funeral.

Under the Bombs is a remarkable, poignant and unforgettable film which will remain branded in my memory for a very long time. There are simply too many war films which celebrate the heroism of combatants; and too few which expose the truth that the bravest of them all are usually the ordinary people, who face the task of finding some way forward when the bombs stop falling, the funeral processions are gone; and they stand alone in the rubble of all they once knew. Under the Bombs does all this and more; watch it and weep as the sorrow unfolds.