|
|
|
CND IN THE NEWS
CND in the news: 27 Feb – 5 March 2003
……………………………………….
1
Children of the revolution
March 1, 2003
The Guardian
http://www.guardian.co.uk/weekend/story/0,3605,904217,00.html
Whatever happened to the children of feminism? The dungaree-wearing
kids whose mothers flour-bombed the Miss World contest in 1970, protesting
at its sexism (and presenter Bob Hope's sense of humour)? Those whose
mothers swore off convention - and the whole male gender - by becoming
openly gay? The kids whose mothers chained themselves to the perimeter
fence at Greenham Common, campaigning against a nuclear arsenal built
by men? In short, those with mothers who tried to shake up gender roles
for ever and fast-track the world to equality?
As a child of the 1970s who describes myself as a feminist, I am particularly
interested in this question. My generation is regularly dismissed as
flaccid, ill-informed and nonpolitical, and, when it comes to the sexual
arena, such criticisms do bear some weight. The desire for equality
- an end to the rape crisis in Britain, to the disparity in male and
female pay, to the pernicious sexism that still labels women either
whores or frigid - seems to have been lost, flattened beneath a welter
of cultural product that suggests all women really want is a man. Any
man.
Among the worst offenders are the chick-lit books that have flooded
the market. A couple of years ago, partly in response to these, I decided
to write a novel that would offer something other than a heroine who
yearns for toned thighs. The storyline was simple. In 1975, Augusta
Flynn - a famous feminist and lesbian - gives birth in mysterious circumstances
to a daughter called Molly. The media is naturally curious as to how
this child was conceived and, as she grows up, so is Molly herself.
While Augusta spins wild stories of adoption and artificial insemination,
the narrative races towards its explanation.
This storyline gave me the chance to explore the relationship between
a feminist mother and her less radicalised daughter, and to look at
some of the social changes behind the plummeting engagement with politics
and, specifically, feminist activism. The experience piqued my interest
in speaking to people who had grown up with politicised mothers during
the heady days of second-wave feminism. What I found were people saddened
by their own inertia, but uniquely capable of articulating their views
on gender. Most of them believe that there are still crucial battles
to be fought, but that these are more subtle than they once were. The
struggle is in finding a way to approach them. Raining flour-bombs on
Helen Fielding may not be the answer.
Sophie McDonald, 23, is a youth worker for Mencap, and campaigns regularly
at Aldermaston Women's Peace Camp. One of triplets, she was brought
up in Southampton by parents who were both involved with the peace movement.
Her mother, Di McDonald (above, with back to camera), a feminist and
anti-nuclear campaigner, regularly took Sophie (on left of double buggy)
and her sisters to Greenham Common; she now runs the anti-war charity
Nuclear Information Service . Sophie's father is a physicist.
At university I wrote essays about being at Greenham Common, looking
at the experience in retrospect and analysing what it was like to be
part of a matriarchal community. As a child, though, going to the camp
was just great fun - we'd spend the days climbing trees and playing
hide and seek. We visited regularly from the age of three until we were
about 10.
As a young kid, I naturally had only a basic understanding of the politics
at the camp. Still, I understood the fact that there were weapons behind
the fence and that was bad. I also understood that the police were protecting
them. And, probably most importantly, I always felt we had a right to
be there.
I was, and still am to a certain extent, terrified of the police. I
wonder whether it's because they were so apart from us at the camp.
They were this presence behind a fence, restricting us. A barrier. I
was always aware of conflict between the military and the women at Greenham,
and I saw how overbearing the bailiffs were towards the protesters.
At Aldermaston, the ideals and work of Greenham have carried on. When
I visit the camp, I get a strong sense of what women have done in the
peace movement, and that's set starkly against what men have done. Obviously
I'm generalising, but it is primarily men who are responsible for creating
weapons of mass destruction. So it's very significant that Aldermaston
is a women's camp. It gives women a chance to be set apart from men,
to stand up and be counted.
I definitely think having a feminist mother has affected my views on
gender. I notice a lot of ingrained sexism that other young women don't
recognise - I get the impression people of my generation are less politicised
than those of my parents' generation. I remember a few years ago on
the wall of my university (I studied dance and art at Brighton), seeing
a picture, a silhouette of a woman wearing bunny ears, advertising a
club night. I remember thinking that a generation ago women wouldn't
have stood for that, and even men would have found it pretty disgraceful.
Now, people just aren't interested.
At university, I lived with three men but eventually I had to move out
because they didn't understand my feminist views and belief in equality.
They didn't want to question anything - not homophobia or their attitudes
towards women. I would pick up on anything they said that was sexist
and they took that on board and became more aware of what they were
saying, but I don't think they really wanted to face up to it.
My experience of being in a patriarchal society is that there are a
lot of power struggles and a distinct hierarchy, whereas in a matriarchal
community such as Greenham, there was far more cooperation and negotiation.
That's what made it work.
Abigail Thaw, 37, is a mother and actor. She was raised in London by
her mother, Sally Alexander, who was at the forefront of feminist activism
and thought in the 1970s and 1980s, taking part in the infamous flour-bombing
of the 1970 Miss World contest; she is now a professor of modern history
at Goldsmiths College. Abigail's father was the actor John Thaw.
On some level I'm really surprised that my mother took part in the Miss
World protest. It seems quite out of character now. When I was a kid,
my mother took part in a lot of strikes and demonstrations, she fought
for the night cleaners' campaign for unionisation and so on, but her
feminism was very much rooted in intellectualism. She had split up with
my father when she was 25 (I was three) and at that point had gone to
Ruskin College, Oxford, and studied English and history. That was where
she became interested in politics.
My mother and I lived in a big house in Pimlico with her partner, Gareth
Stedman Jones, who was an academic, and various other couples, most
of whom were artists. I suppose that sounds terribly unstable and eccentric,
but it was a very loving environment. The set-up wasn't a commune. Each
family occupied different sections of the house and we would come together
at mealtimes and for political meetings. I never had a sense of being
an only child because I was brought up with other children, who I almost
thought of as siblings.
Living with so many men, there was never an absence of male role models
in my life. And there was certainly no sense of women ruling the roost
and men being the underdogs - I wasn't surrounded by wimpy, knit-your-own-yogurt,
granola types. The situation was just equal. Men had their agenda, as
did women. Also, I would see my father regularly.
Although kids in the playground would chant, "Burn your bra, burn
your bra", my mother's feminism never made me feel uncomfortable
or different. What did make me self-conscious was the fact that I was
a middle-class child who went to a predominantly working-class primary
school. At the time we were quite broke and we just used to eat things
like brown rice and potatoes, and I would be dressed in smocks. I'd
go to tea with my school friends and they'd have a television, white
bread and pretty clothes. As an eight-year-old, it was that difference
that mattered to me.
When I went to Pimlico Comprehensive, it was fine, because the other
kids came from really mixed backgrounds. Then, after my A-levels and
some time in Italy, I went to Rada. I'm sure that decision was influenced
by my father, but actually neither of my parents wanted me to be an
actress. My mum always said she wanted me to be a nuclear physicist
or a great doctor.
When people talk now about the male identity being in crisis, my opinion
swings considerably. There's no doubt that we do still live in a male-dominated
society, a fact that's completely obvious when you look at the top level
of any profession. For that reason, I don't have much truck with these
male support groups that have cropped up. On the other hand, I think
having a child opened my eyes to some possible difficulties. The male
role within the family used to be very clearcut: providing security,
a safe home, financial care. Now, though, while that male input is helpful,
it's not essential. With women being encouraged to work, I think it
must be more difficult for men to define their role and identity in
the home.
My upbringing has definitely influenced how I want to raise my own daughter,
Molly Mae, who's five. I want her to grow up believing that she can
be whatever she wants to be and that there are no doors closed to her
because of her sex. She is generally a very confident child, but what
she has referred to recently, which frightens my partner Nigel and me,
is concerns about her body image. Last summer, for example, before I
was pregnant again, she said, "Your tummy's thin. Why have I got
a big round tummy? I want a thin tummy." Now, that might just reflect
the fact that little girls are fascinated with their mothers' bodies,
but I found it quite alarming, especially since all her friends are
into crop tops and showing off their bellybuttons.
When I was growing up, my mum wasn't very au fait with modern culture
and I think that on some level she was appalled when I suddenly became
obsessed with clothes and make-up as a child. Her whole life, of course,
was dedicated to making sure that I didn't need to look glamorous to
get ahead. I recognised her concern, so my interest in make-up became
quite furtive. I don't want Molly to feel that friction. I want everything
to be open to her, so that nothing becomes exciting simply because it's
forbidden.
I think there's a general complacency about politics now, which I do
find deeply depressing. I'm not first up, though, when it comes to doing
anything myself, so maybe I can't complain. Social outlooks have shifted.
I mean, look at the recent situation with the Miss World contest causing
such horror in Nigeria, then being staged at Alexandra Palace. Why was
there not a major protest about that? You see women protesting about
the fur trade, throwing buckets of blood at supermodels, but when it
comes to an issue like a woman in Nigeria being sentenced to death by
stoning, nothing happens.
Over the years, my mum's feminism has mellowed, but I don't think she
has any regrets. If it hadn't been for her and her contemporaries, we
wouldn't have the choices we have now.
Jake Lushington, 34, is a television producer whose work includes Trust
and the controversial drama Men Only. His parents divorced in 1971 and
he was then brought up in Brighton by his mother, Cora Kaplan. A socialist
feminist academic and author, Kaplan's work includes Sea Changes: Questions
On Culture And Feminism. His father is Mark Lushington, a union leader
for the NUT in Hackney.
There's a story my mum tells, that when I was very young - maybe four
or five - I wanted nothing more than a cowboy outfit, complete with
holster and guns. My mum and dad were divorced by then, and my dad had
gone to live in California for a few years. At first my mum was adamant
that she wasn't going to give me the cowboy outfit. She just didn't
approve of what it represented - that old-fashioned macho ideal, combined
with the guns (she was very anti-war). I was naturally a calm kid, but
one night I just lost it. I don't know whether or not I did it calculatedly,
but I was screaming, "I want my daddy, I want my daddy", which
was completely out of character - something I never really said, or
thought, even. The next day, I went into my room and there, on the bed,
was the cowboy outfit. I think my mother just thought, "OK, I have
to stop this. I'll give him what he wants."
As a kid, I was always aware of my mother's feminism and socialist politics.
Through the 1970s, she taught at Sussex University which, at the time,
had a very political culture. She built up friendships with a group
of women who became a hugely influential part of socialist feminism
- Barbara Taylor, Jacqueline Rose, Sally Alexander, Lynne Segal, Michelle
Barrett. They've all remained friends. I saw them again recently at
my mother's 60th birthday.
There were various things, I suppose, that made me realise my mother
was different. At Christmas, for instance, we would have a feminist
symbol on top of the tree, decked out in red glitter, rather than a
fairy. And then there were the marches. I remember going on a march
against the Corrie Bill - which was intended to pass more stringent
abortion laws - and shouting, "Corrie, Corrie, Corrie, out, out,
out." But I also remember going on a CND march and campaigning
to save Brighton's West Pier. That's what I mean when I say that feminism
was part of a whole political and social culture. It was really rather
nice. A very supportive time.
The only thing my mum did that really embarrassed me was when she went
out in a see-through top without a bra (which was all the rage among
the students). I must have been about 11. It was horrible. She might
have gone braless at other times, I don't remember, but she never wore
the transparent top again.
The way my mother brought me up, with a lot of strong women around me,
meant that from an early age I understood what sexism was and how it
worked. As a result of that, I suppose, I always made a simple assumption
that women were individuals and independent forces. I think that has
allowed me to make a lot of female friends as an adult. I've never assumed
that every woman I meet is looking for a man to make her complete. In
fact, I'm much more likely to assume that she's not.
I've had two long-term relationships and both of them were with women
who had done an MA in gender and development. I've been out with other
people who weren't actively feminist, but those have been the only two
major relationships.
Being raised by my mother, I think I was given a very good education
about women. What I had to learn more about, as an adult, was masculinity.
Although I always saw my dad regularly and had him as a role model,
I was much more in the dark about men. A lesson I didn't learn until
I'd grown up, for instance, was that there was this stereotypical man
- the unreconstructed, strong, silent type, I guess - who was very attractive
to women. That construction of masculinity isn't based on intelligence
or charm or understanding, and it was interesting to me that it could
none the less be attractive to educated, independent women.
This is going to sound slightly bitter, because I'm by no means the
strong, silent type, but the women who go for that kind of man can end
up having a bit of a bimbo for a boyfriend. He doesn't say very much,
he's very strong, often he's not from quite the same class background.
That masculine ideal is as old as the hills, but I wasn't quite prepared
for its popularity.
When I was at school, I'd go out to the pub with the lads, but now I
tend to avoid large gatherings of heterosexual men. My closest male
friend is gay, but I have other close male friends who are straight.
I find their company fine when it's just two of us together, or maybe
a group of three. Get up to four and I'm out of there. My only recent
experience of a big male group was a stag night, which involved the
most boring conversation I've ever had. Fifteen minutes of talk about
anal sex I can find mildly diverting, but three and a half hours? No.
It was experiences like this that informed Men Only, the two-part drama
I helped conceive and produced. The piece showed a group of five middle-class
men who play football together once a week, who go on to gang-rape a
young woman. It was intended to be an attack against things like Nick
Hornby's work, which presents these male groupings as quite benign.
It was a pretty unflinching look at male behaviour. We wanted to convey
the fact that a man like that could be sitting right next to you on
the sofa.
There was a big outcry when it was shown. A lot of people responded
by saying, "We don't know any middle-class men like that"
which was just foolish and ignorant. Others suggested it aped the argument,
attributed to Andrea Dworkin, that all men are rapists; they saw it
as having a crude feminist application. Then there were those who said
I had created the most misogynistic drama possible.
My mum thought the piece was interesting, but if anything she felt it
was a bit nasty towards men. She's less cynical about men than I am.
I think there was an emotional side of her that wanted the male characters
to have more humanity, but we made a very specific choice not to sweeten
it. Fuck that. I know men myself who don't have that edge of humanity.
I don't know if my mother's feminist friends liked Men Only. I mean,
nobody said anything, but that's the point. I think as a young boy I
was safe and now they don't know quite what to think of me. I work in
a powerful, popular medium and I'm more argumentative, and I think that
presents a potential problem.
Despite my upbringing, I still have an appalling trait, which is that
I apparently stare almost constantly at women's breasts. So much for
being raised by a feminist. That's what a braless mother will do.
Rueben Cohen, 27, is a book publicist and writer. He was brought up
in Greenwich by his mother, Aileen La Tourette, and father, David Cohen.
She is a novelist and senior lecturer in imaginative writing at Liverpool
John Moores University. His father is a psychologist, author and documentary
film-maker.
As a child, I went on a lot of CND marches with my
parents, who were both interested in leftist politics. When I was about
three or four, we were at a protest march and I held up the placard
I was carrying and smacked a policeman over the back with it. He whirled
around, not knowing what the hell was happening, and saw this innocent
little angel standing there, smiling. My mother, naturally, asked me
what I was doing and I just replied, "Policeman bad." I guess
even then that I'd absorbed some of the politics being discussed at
home.
Politically, the end of the 1970s and early 1980s was a time of real
anger for my mother and, when I was seven, she came out as a lesbian.
The way she puts it, every liberation movement has a period when a group
that sees itself as oppressed simply says to the oppressor class, "We
don't need you." At the time, she might have said that her lesbianism
was a part of that political process, but her actual relationships with
women were never a political gesture. I think she was attracted to women
and her politics dovetailed neatly with that. Later, she had relationships
with men again, and now she describes herself as a bisexual who had
a long lesbian period.
When my mum came out, my parents separated but, oddly, decided to buy
a house together. It was a big, old, dilapidated mansion in Greenwich.
Aileen had the top half and David had the bottom. The idea was that
they'd live their own lives but still be present as parents, which actually
worked pretty well.
The fact that she'd come out wasn't a big issue for me, although I think
it was harder for my older brother, who was about 11. I was young enough
that I just took it in my stride. It was normal. It helped that I liked
my mum's girlfriend, Jill.
If there's anything I resented, it was the fact that I was sent to a
very traditional, basically Tory school where I felt quite alien. My
dad believed the state schools in London were terrible, so me and my
brother were sent, initially, to Dulwich College prep school. It was
just what you'd expect - single-sex, we had to wear shorts and we were
taught Latin from an early age. The clash between that and a bohemian
home life made me very aware of myself as different.
I told a few boys at school that my mother was a lesbian and it just
confused them. I remember one saying very ardently, "No, that's
impossible." But it was never a source of teasing.
From an early age, I was aware of my mother using the word "feminist"
in reference to herself, but there was never any kind of indoctrination.
I can't pinpoint any single time when I was given a lesson on how to
treat women, for instance. Back in the 1980s, though, when Clare Short
was campaigning against Page Three, I was aware that my mother didn't
approve of those images and that pornography and the like were seen
in pretty negative terms. The basic lessons of liberal feminism were
just taken for granted.
When I was 11, my mother insisted her sons should go to a co-ed school,
so we went to Alleyn's College, which was pretty egalitarian. Even with
a feminist mother and a liberal education, though, I can't say my upbringing
freed me from the male wolf pack.
If you spend prepubescence lusting after women who don't return that
lust, there's always going to be a hostility gap. I'd say that's as
defining as anything else. The conditioning you go through as a male
in this culture is not something you can avoid by knowing things on
an intellectual level, or even by example. Despite being committed to
a belief in equality and so on, I've probably defaulted to sexism many,
many times. In fact, I know I have. Everyone does.
At 18 or 19, I would proudly have proclaimed myself either pro-feminist
or feminist and thought it meant something. On an intellectual level,
it still does. Now, though, I think it's a joke for a man to describe
himself as a feminist. I think men are really kidding themselves if
they think they can divorce themselves from a male culture. However
great your parents are, you're still exposed to the same cultural influences.
All of my partners have been very independent, but not necessarily political.
I've been involved with two women who would describe themselves as feminists,
but only one in an organised way. I suppose the main impact of my upbringing
is that I've been drawn to women who read a lot and care about books
and can hold their own in conversation. It may not sound like much,
but I think that's significant.
I've been very aware of and distressed by the fact that women of my
own generation don't typically define themselves as feminist. To a tragic
extent, feminism has been co-opted by global capitalism. The whole ladette
culture, with its images of women as consumers and sexual materialists,
represents an assimilation of gender culture into a nasty, consumerist
melange of idiocy. Anything that lauds promiscuity as a sign of freedom
is fucked, I think.
There's no question for me that feminism is more necessary now than
ever. My mother has been quite taken aback by the way things have turned
out, I think. She describes her female students as highly intelligent
and very confident in ways that young women of her generation often
weren't. Still, though, she has a sense that there's something missing.
Obviously, there was no greater testament to the necessity of some gender
consciousness than Bridget Jones's Diary. I think that proved, beyond
doubt, that sexual politics does matter.
Kate Owen, 32, is a mother and primary school teacher. As a baby, she
was adopted by Ursula and Roger Owen, who split up amicably when she
was a toddler, and later divorced. In 1973, Ursula Owen co-founded the
influential feminist press, Virago. She is now editor and chief executive
of Index On Censorship, which fights for worldwide freedom of expression.
Roger Owen is an academic and economist, currently professor of Middle
East history at Harvard.
I loved going to the Virago offices when I was a kid. There was a buzz
about them, a sense of excitement. I used to pretend to be sick so that
I could get off school and visit.
In the TV adaptation of that Fay Weldon book Big Women [supposedly based
on the Virago offices], all the women wore stripy jumpers, dungarees,
big clunky shoes and no bras. I remember watching it and thinking, "No,
I must be on the wrong channel." My mum was very normal and dressed
in a respectable way. Smart, if you like. She wasn't over the top -
her feminism was a very serious matter. Apart from the fact that one
of the characters was a single mum, there wasn't a single aspect of
that programme that rang true.
When I was young, I didn't really understand the need for a feminist
movement - I suppose that was because I just assumed all women were
as strong and independent as my mum and her colleagues. I thought it
was a given that women could work and be influential. My mum seemed
proof of the pudding.
After A-levels, I moved to Brighton to train as a primary school teacher.
I was three years into my degree and close to graduating when I got
pregnant. Brilliant timing. At that point, I decided to take some time
off. I wanted to be able to look after my daughter, Charlotte, properly,
to take her to school and bring her home.
There were two reasons why that was important to me. One was that, when
I was a child myself, my mum would always be working at home-time and
someone else would pick me up. It was always the same person, a lodger
we had, but I was very aware that my friends were going home to have
tea with their parents and I wasn't. The other reason was guilt: because
I had left Charlotte's dad, I felt very aware that I needed to compensate.
I didn't feel that I could go off and do my own thing.
Now that I'm older and have more understanding, I'd definitely describe
myself as a feminist. For me, that means a feeling that we're all equal.
I also believe everybody should have a sense of their own worth, and
I think that's what feminism tried to do for women.
I don't think my mum's outlook on feminism has changed. I think she
has the same beliefs, she's just going about them in a different way.
She likes to fight for the little people. The feminist movement has
done so much that I think she felt able to move on to human rights work.
From my point of view, I definitely think things have got better for
women and that we now need to concentrate on other things, like child
abuse. That's probably partly because I've worked in a primary school
and have seen a lot of children who are abused.
Thinking about it, the school staff room and the Virago offices are
very similar. When you get a group of women together, there are bound
to be power struggles and silly arguments. All very entertaining. And
you'll always get a range of people as well. The thing about Virago,
though, was that the women there were all very close, for a very long
time. As a child, it was great to witness that.
………………………………………..
2
UN draft 'does not permit war'
March 4, 2003
The Guardian
http://www.guardian.co.uk/uk_news/story/0,3604,907003,00.html
The new draft UN resolution sponsored by Britain and the US does not
authorise the use of force against Iraq, leading experts in international
law warn today. Any military action without clear security council authorisation
would be a clear violation of international law, they add.
The legal advice, which contradicts the government's view, was drawn
up by Rabinder Singh QC and Charlotte Kilroy for the Campaign
for Nuclear Disarmament and other non-government
organisations.
The lawyers point out last year that the US and Britain attempted, but
failed, to get express authorisation for military action in UN resolution
1441. They say the US also wanted stronger wording in the new resolution,
including a reference to taking "all necessary means" to disarm
Iraq, but abandoned the idea because it thought it would not get the
full support of the security council.
Carol Naughton, the chairwoman of CND, said last night:
"The UK government wants it both ways. It is fully aware that all
this talk about a 'second resolution' is just a smokescreen for illegality."
The government's publicly stated view is that a new UN resolution is
not necessary before military action is taken since that is covered
by previous resolutions.
……………………………………….
3
10 best sites of the week
01 March 2003
The Independent
http://news.independent.co.uk/digital/reviews/story.jsp?story=382284
www.iraqbodycount.net
According to its "about" section, this site aims "to
establish an independent and comprehensive public database of civilian
deaths in Iraq resulting directly from military actions by the USA and
its allies in 2003". Following on from a similar project centring
on Afghanistan (now totalling 3-3,400 civilian deaths), this somewhat
macabre, but some would say necessary, tally was already, at the time
of writing, five more than many would find acceptable.
www.humanshields.org
As the countdown to war in the Gulf continues apace so does its opposition.
This inventive idea sees volunteers heading off to Iraq on London buses
to act as human shields in the event of attacks, reasoning that Western
governments are not going to be too happy about bombing their own citizens.
Their website continues to appeal for volunteers to become part of the
shield.
www.faxyourmp.com
Run in their spare time by "a dozen or so volunteers who don't
see why ordinary people should have to jump through hoops to contact
their elected MP", this website offers a "does-exactly-what-it-says-on-the-tin"
service. It allows ordinary citizens to get in touch with their MP via
a neat, and free, postcode-driven fax-sending service, which, judging
by the enthusiastic feedback archived on the site, can have a useful
and positive effect.
www.csv.org.uk
If you have time on your hands and want to make a difference to people's
lives and the society in which you live, volunteering your services
can be an efficient way to help others out. Community Service Volunteers
placed more than 100,000 people in volunteering positions last year,
and this site tells you how to get involved in one of their many schemes
around the country.
www.peace-not-war.org
"Music has a role to play in spreading the word of peace",
says longtime political songsmith, Billy Bragg, one of the contributors
to this musical stand against conflict. The protest song has, of course,
a long and illustrious heritage, and this site sees such up-to-date
acts as Coldcut, Public Enemy, Massive Attack, Alabama 3 and Ms Dynamite
joining the fray. It includes lyrics in case you can want to sing along
with these dissenting voices.
www.cnduk.org
Did you know that a Trident submarine is always on patrol somewhere
in the world, ready to fire its 16 nuclear warheads, and that it costs
£1.5bn a year to do this? CND, like other political activist movements
that thrived during the Cold War, are now enjoying something of a resurgence,
and you can touch base with their ideas on the continuing threat from
nuclear arsenals at their informative website.
www.google-watch.org
Those informationists who worship the great PoG (Power of Google) might
be interested in this site, which, according to its intro, takes a look
at how the mighty search engine's "monopoly, algorithms and privacy
policies are undermining the web". Examining the hidden layer beneath
the net's most popular, and supposedly egalitarian, website ranker should
offer food for thought for many of its users.
www.waketheworld.org
If you watched any of the recent anti-war protest marches, you may have
been surprised at the sheer diversity and wide range of posters and
placards available, ranging from the humourous to the deadly serious,
but nearly all very well-designed. Many would have come from this site
which invites people to send in their creations to be printed off later,
copyright-free, by protesters.
http://tv.oneworld.net
"Watch, explore, create" is the mantra at One World TV, a
site that invites film-makers to contribute at-source reports from around
the world, and allows visitors the chance to bypass traditional media
outlets to find material on stories they might not otherwise come across
…………………………………………..
4
Straw confronted by anti-war protests
1 March 2003
BBC News
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/2810995.stm
He was among 500 Labour Party members who were expected to attend the
meeting in Southport, two months ahead of the local elections.
About 150 protestors had gathered outside the town's Floral Hall, many
wearing white "peace ribbons" to show their opposition to
a war with Iraq.
They included members of CND, Greenpeace, the Green
Party and the Stop the War Coalition.
The ribbons are on sale to raise money to help pay for a planned legal
action against Mr Straw and Tony Blair if war goes ahead.
Green Party spokeswoman Dr Caroline Lucas MEP said: "Wearing a
white peace ribbon will allow millions of people who feel very strongly
about the war and its effect on innocent people to show their opposition."
'Intent on defiance'
At the meeting, Mr Straw dismissed Iraq's agreement to destroy its Al-Samoud
2 ballistic missiles as a cynical trick designed to buy time and avert
military action.
United Nations weapons inspector Hans Blix has hailed the move as "a
very significant piece of real disarmament".
But Mr Straw said it was actually further proof of Saddam Hussein's
bad faith, adding he appeared "intent on continued defiance".
He told the conference: "It's a very familiar pattern. Iraq first
declares a total `zero', saying they have nothing illegal whatever to
declare.
"Then, under pressure, they cynically trickle out concessions to
divide the Security Council, buy time, and avert military action while
continuing concealment.
"But his games should prove nothing but his own bad faith.
"The two key words in Resolution 1441 are full and immediate: full
and immediate compliance; full and immediate co-operation; full and
immediate disarmament of his weapons of mass destruction.
"For Saddam, such behaviour appears beyond him."
……………………………………………
5
Attack would be 'in breach of law'
March 05, 2003
The Times
http://www.timesonline.co.uk/printFriendly/0,,1-5570-600304,00.html
THE Prime Minister was told by lawyers in his wife’s legal chambers
yesterday that the second UN resolution proposed by the US, Britain
and Spain would not authorise war on Iraq, were it to be passed.
Lawyers from Matrix Chambers, where Tony Blair’s wife Cherie practises,
said that military action against Iraq would be a “clear violation of
international law”.
Even if the resolution overcame opposition by France, Germany and Russia
and were passed by the UN Security Council, it would not sanction war,
according to Rabinder Singh, QC, and Charlotte Kilroy. The Government
will have been advised on the draft resolution by Lord Goldsmith, QC,
the Attorney-General, after taking advice from leading international
law experts at the Bar.
Under the convention that legal advice from the Attorney-General to
ministers is confidential, Lord Goldsmith has resolutely refused to
confirm even whether he has given such advice, far less what it is.
But he has said that any military action would comply with international
law: “The Prime Minister has always made clear that we will, in our
actions, comply with international law.”
While the legal opinion from Matrix is that the draft resolution would
not authorise the use of force, it is possible that other lawyers take
the opposite view. The draft resolution says that Iraq has “failed to
take the final opportunity afforded to it in Resolution 1441”.
But the legal opinion by Mr Singh and Ms Kilroy, on behalf of CND
and other campaign groups, concluded that this “would not authorise
the US and the UK to use force against Iraq if it were adopted”. They
added: “In the present circumstances as known to us, if there is no
further resolution clearly authorising force, the US and the UK would
be acting in violation of international law if they were to attack Iraq.”
…………………….
6
The idea of a Band Aid 2 charity single against war in Iraq is an inappropriate
non-starter
February 28, 2003
http://www.timesonline.co.uk/printFriendly/0,,1-47-593415,00.html
THERE WAS A telling moment on one of the 24-hour news television channels
when, beneath footage of the unfolding tragedy of September 11, some
bright spark in the studio elected to flash up the headline “Madonna
urges restraint”. As if anyone could have cared less at that moment
what a pop star thought about the situation, let alone that her comments
should seriously be taken into account in weighing up what the American
Government’s immediate response to the event ought to be.
I was reminded of this by George Michael’s announcement this week that
he is “opposed” to the efforts of a group of today’s young pop stars
— led by the boyband, Blue — to mount a re-run of the Band Aid charity
record as a means of opposing the impending war in Iraq.
“I’m begging, I’m hoping that there will not be a Band Aid 2,” Michael
said. “Because the reality is that very few people in the industry now
that you’re hearing on the radio make their money from their own hearts
and minds.”
As it turns out, Michael’s complaint is just another variant on the
timeless theme of the older generation not trusting the younger generation
to be able to think or act for itself. So while it is fine for Michael
to rush into song (and video) as a cheerleader for the anti-Bush/Blair
brigade — as he did with his lamentable Shoot the Dog single of last
year — it’s not OK for these kids to follow suit, because they don’t
know what they’re talking about.
But he’s half-right, at least, which for Michael is a better result
than normal. One reason why any attempt to parlay a charity record opposing
the war into a Band Aid 2 is doomed to failure is that the pop world
has changed beyond recognition since Bob Geldof marshalled the biggest
stars of the day to the cause of alleviating starvation in Ethiopia.
While Band Aid (and the subsequent Live Aid concerts in London and Philadelphia)
was a spontaneous and original gesture, there have been so many dubious
galas, meaningless all-star jamborees and flop charity records since
then that the idea has become terminally debased.
While opposition to the famine in Ethiopia was a strictly humanitarian
issue, opposition to a potential war in Iraq is a political one. Getting
people to dig into their pockets to help starving children is one thing
but, whatever they say, neither the big stars nor the general public
will be so willing to swell the coffers of CND or wherever
else the money raised from sales of a putative Band Aid 2 is bound.
Opposition to the war may be a cause that is sweeping the imagination
of the country — for now — but there is likely to be a good deal of
cynicism about a gang of publicity-hungry pop stars, at a loose end
after the excitement of the Brits and the Grammys, suddenly hitching
their wagons to it.
While Damon Albarn of Blur (new album out in April) has waged an indefatigable
campaign against the prospect of war through the pages of the NME, it
is noticeable that most of the original sponsors of Live Aid are keeping
pretty quiet. Bono has maintained an uncharacteristically low profile
in recent weeks, and insofar as he has said anything about the subject,
Geldof seems to have been tacitly supporting Tony Blair’s position.
Perhaps Madonna’s message is finally getting through after all, if not
in quite the way she intended.
……………………………………………..
| |
