Tuesday, June 04, 2013

Recurring Gas: Gasland 2

"Gasland 2" Grassroots Premiere in Illinois Highlights Industry PSYOPS and Ongoing Fracking Fights

by Steve Horn - DeSmogBlog

"Gasland 2" screened yesterday in Normal, IL and DeSmogBlog was there to gain a sneak peak of the documentary set for a July 8 HBO national premiere.

Josh Fox's documentary played at the Normal Theater, the second-ever screening since the film officially premiered on April 21 at the Tribeca Film Festival in New York City.

The movie builds on Fox's Academy Award-nominated "Gasland," further making the case of how the shale industry's hydraulic fracturing ("fracking") boom is busting up peoples' livelihoods, contaminating air and water, polluting democracy and serving as a "bridge fuel" only to propel us off the climate disruption cliff.




A central theme and question of the film is, "Who gets to tell the story?" That is, industry PR pros and bought-off politicians utilizing the "tobacco playbook" and saying "the sky is pink," or families directly injured by the industry? Fox explains how the industry has gamed the system, ensuring the communities have their voices drowned out. The Gasland films seek to tell some of the victims' stories.

Another theme is the bread and butter of following any big industry's influence: following the money. In depicting the financial clout of Big Oil, "Gasland 2" shows that the oil and gas industry has gone to the lengths of deploying warfare tactics - literally - on U.S. citizens to ram through its agenda.
PSYOPs, Other DeSmogBlog Work Featured

Much of the content in "Gasland 2" has also been covered on DeSmogBlog over the past few years.

Robert Howarth's and Anthony Ingraffea's prominent "Cornell Study" receives some good play in the film. Howarth and Ingraffea demonstrated that from cradle to grave, fracked gas has a more dangerous global warming effect than coal, a death knell to the "natural gas as a bridge fuel" meme. President Obama's deployment of American Petroleum Institute "jobs" talking points for fracking is in there too.

Former head of the Dept. of Homeland Security under President George W. Bush and Republican Gov. of Pennsylvania, Tom Ridge, also takes a beating in the film. His appearance on "The Colbert Report" is righteously roasted, the same appearance in which he lied to U.S. citizens and declared he was "not a lobbyist" even though he was registered to lobby at that time for the U.S. Chamber of Commerce.

"Tailsman Terry the Fracosaurus," which demonstrates the industy's willingness to utilize propaganda on young children, receives a similar round of ridicule in "Gasland 2." Fox also explains the oil industry's use of Big Tobacco's Playbook through interviews with Naomi Oreskes, author of "Merchants of Doubt," a major theme of our coverage of both the shale gas industry and the Tea Party.

Steve Lipsky, who was left in the dust by Range Resouces and the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA), is one of the central characters of the film. The major villain of that tale is former PA Democratic Gov. Ed Rendell, who helped derail and censor the EPA's fracking groundwater contamination study motivated by Lipsky's water contamination in Weatherford, TX.

While the prospective shale gas export boom is covered in some depth in the film, so too is the concept of the government-industry revolving door, particularly as it pertains to Pennsylvania. The Public Accountability Initiative's study "Fracking and the Revolving Door in Pennsylvania" is featured in the film, a study we also covered.

Last but certainly not least, Gasland 2 devotes an entire section to the industry's admitted use of psychological warfare tactics (PSYOPs) on U.S. citizens, as we first revealed in Nov. 2011.

The Houston PR conference referred to in the film is one I attended and covered in some depth. It was a gathering of industry public relations executives talking among friends about how to best manipulate mainstream media journalists, divide and conquer anti-fracking activists, and intimidate local communities to go along with fracking operations that endanger their health and drinking water.

"Gasland 2" presents the audio of Range Resouces Director of Corporate Communications and Public Affairs Matt Pitzarella revealing that Range hires PSYOPs Iraq War veterans to use their skills to pressure local communities. The film also features Anadarko Petroleum External Affairs Manager Matt Carmichael advising gas industry PR pros to read the Army "Counterinsurgency Field Manual" and "Rumsfeld's Rules," because "we are dealing with an insurgency."

Both audio clips were obtained by Earthworks' Sharon Wilson at the conference and provided to media by Earthworks and DeSmogBlog. CNBC first broke the story on Nov. 8, 2011.
Frackalypse Now: DeSmog PSYOPS Spoof by Mark Fiore

DeSmog partnered with Pulitzer Prize-winning cartoonist Mark Fiore to produce this spoof video in the vein of Coppola's "Apocalypse Now," making its debut today, "Frackalypse Now":

Illinois Fracking Fight Wages On

The grassroots premiere of "Gasland 2" in Illinois is significant since a major battle royale is brewing over fracking in the Land of Lincoln. The battle lines have been drawn: grassroots "fracktivists" are fighting for a statewide moratorium, while the industry and major green NGOS are pushing through a bill that would regulate fracking, but allow the controversial and dangerous practice to continue long before it's been independently proven safe for water, health and the global climate.

With two weeks left in the legislative session, activists - informed by inside sources - believe there could be an 11th hour effort to ram through the bill.



Because of that, Illinois Peoples Action (IPA) and Southern Illinoisans Against Fracturing our Environment (SAFE) held a press conference in the afternoon before the film's screening. The conference featured Fox, a SAFE activist, and Illinois native and prominent anti-fracking author and scientist, Sandra Steingraber - author of the book "Raising Elijah: Protecting Our Children in an Age of Environmental Crisis."

"How are we going to receive our eduction [about fracking]?," Fox asked rhetorically at the press conference. "From an industry that would come into Illinois and do a third-world exploitation model in America, with the President in his home state absent, with the major big green groups cutting backroom deals?

"I'm here to say there's a model that's been used in New York that's revolved around incredible insistence. They said fracking was a done deal to us in New York and four years later, it's not a done deal there and it's not a done deal here in Illinois."

Photo by Steve Horn

Stealing History, Hiding Truth: 'We Steal Secrets' Revealed


‘We Steal Secrets’: State Agitprop

by Chris Hedges - Truthdig

Alex Gibney’s new film, “We Steal Secrets,” is about WikiLeaks and its founder, Julian Assange. It dutifully peddles the state’s contention that WikiLeaks is not a legitimate publisher and that Bradley Manning, who allegedly passed half a million classified Pentagon and State Department documents to WikiLeaks, is not a legitimate whistle-blower. It interprets acts of conscience and heroism by Assange and Manning as misguided or criminal. It holds up the powerful—who are responsible for the plethora of war crimes Manning and Assange exposed—as, by comparison, trustworthy and reasonable. Manning is portrayed as a pitiful, naive and sexually confused young man. Assange, who created the WikiLeaks site so whistle-blowers could post information without fear of being traced, is presented as a paranoid, vindictive megalomaniac and a sexual deviant. “We Steal Secrets” is agitprop for the security and surveillance state.

Rebels are typically a bundle of contradictions and incongruities. They are often difficult people whom the dominant systems of power abused at a young age. They have the intelligence needed to dissect the workings of power, and to devise mechanisms to fight back. German Jewish intellectuals in the Nazi era such as Hannah Arendt, writers such as James Baldwin, who was gay as well as black, and the revolutionary Frantz Fanon, a black writer and psychiatrist raised in the French colony of Martinique, all were outsiders, even outcasts. Like these three, Manning and Assange rose out of personal troubles to ask the questions traditional rebels ask, and they responded as traditional rebels respond.

“The initial presentation of the story was that Bradley Manning was a pure political figure, like a Daniel Ellsberg,” Gibney told The Daily Beast in an interview in January. “I don’t think that’s a sufficient explanation of why he did what he did. I think he was alienated; he was in agony personally over a number of issues. He was lonely and very needy. And I think he had an identity crisis. He had this idea that he was in the wrong body and wanted to become a woman, and these issues are not just prurient. I think it raises big issues about who whistleblowers are, because they are alienated people who don’t get along with people around them, which motivates them to do what they do.”

Gibney is unable to see that humans are a mixture of hubris and altruism, cowardice and courage, anger and love. There are no “pure” political figures—including Daniel Ellsberg. But there are people who, for reasons of conscience, discover the inner fortitude to defy tyranny at tremendous personal risk. Manning did this. Assange did this. They are not perfect human beings, but to dwell at length, as Gibney does, on their supposed psychological deficiencies and personal failings, while glossing over the vast evil they set themselves against, is an insidious form of character assassination. It serves the interests of the oppressors. Even if all the character flaws ascribed by Gibney to Manning and Assange are true—and I do not believe they are true—it does not diminish what they did.

The film at many points is a trashy exercise in tabloid journalism. Gibney panders to popular culture’s taste for cheap pop psychology and obsession with sex, salacious gossip and trivia. He shows clips of Assange dancing in a disco. He goes through an elaborate ritual of putting a wig and makeup on one of Assange’s estranged paramours, Anna Ardin, to disguise her although she is a public figure in Sweden.

“When the women went to the police to try to force Assange to take an HIV test, their testimony raised questions about possible criminal charges,” Gibney says in speaking about a Swedish case in which allegations of sexual misbehavior have been made against the WikiLeaks publisher. “The police, on their own, decided to investigate further. The refusal to use a condom took center stage: If Assange had HIV and knew it, it could be a case for assault. The testimony of the women raised another issue: Did he refuse to use a condom because he wanted to make the women pregnant? Some pointed to the fact he had already fathered four children with different women around the world.”

The personal sin is excoriated. The vast structural sin Assange and Manning fought is ignored. The primacy of personal piety over justice is the inversion of morality. It is the sickness of our age. David Petraeus is hounded out of the CIA not because he oversaw death squads that killed thousands of innocents in Iraq or because the CIA tortures detainees, but because he had an extramarital affair. The power elite can draw up kill lists, torture people, wage endless war and carry out massive fiscal fraud on Wall Street as long as they don’t get caught sleeping with their administrative assistants. Assange can lay bare the crimes they commit, but his act of truth-telling is canceled out by alleged sexual misconduct.

Is the most important thing about Martin Luther King Jr. the fact that he was a serial adulterer? Did King’s infidelities invalidate his life and struggle? Do the supposed defects of Assange and Manning negate what they did? Gibney would have us believe they do. Manning, in a just world, would be a witness for the prosecution of those who committed war crimes. Assange would be traveling around the United States collecting First Amendment awards.

The persecution of Manning and Assange is not an isolated act. It is part of a terrifying assault against our most important civil liberties and a free press. Manning and Assange are the canaries in the mineshaft. They did not seek to sell the documents that WikiLeaks published or to profit personally from their release. They are part of the final, desperate battle under way to stymie the security and surveillance state’s imposition of corporate totalitarianism. They and others who attempt to expose the crimes of the state—such as Jeremy Hammond, who admitted in a plea agreement last week that he had hacked into the private intelligence firm Stratfor and who faces up to 10 years in prison—will be ruthlessly persecuted. And the traditional media, which printed the secret cables provided by WikiLeaks and then callously abandoned Manning and Assange, will be next.

The Associated Press recently saw the state seize two months of its emails and phone logs, and the government has admitted seizing Fox News reporter James Rosen’s phone records. Half a dozen government whistle-blowers have been charged by the Obama administration under the Espionage Act. It is becoming harder and harder to peer into the inner workings of power. And once there are no Mannings or Assanges, once no one is willing to take risks to expose the crimes of empire, there will be no freedom of the press.

The fundamental conceit of “We Steal Secrets” is that Assange’s concern about the possibility of being arrested by U.S. authorities is a product of paranoia and self-delusion. The vast array of intergovernment forces—at least a dozen—dedicated to arresting Assange, extraditing him and destroying WikiLeaks is, Gibney would have us believe, fictional. I detailed these forces in “The Death of Truth.” The refusal to acknowledge the massive campaign against Assange is the most disturbing aspect of the film. There are numerous indications, including in leaked Stratfor emails, that a sealed indictment against Assange is in place. But Gibney refuses to buy it.

“Had the secret-leaker become the secret-keeper, more and more fond of mysteries?” Gibney asks in the film. “The biggest mystery of all was the role of the United States. Over two years after the first leak, no charges had been filed by the U.S. Assange claimed that the U.S. was biding its time, waiting for him to go to Sweden, but there was no proof.”

The sage-like figure in the film is former CIA Director Michael Hayden, who in 2001 lied when he told reporters that the National Security Council was not monitoring U.S citizens without court warrants from the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Court. He represents, for Gibney, the voice of reason.

“You’ve got this scene, somebody evidently troubled by the scene—frankly, I’m not—but I can understand someone who’s troubled by that, and someone who wants the American people to know that, because the American people need to know what it is their government is doing for them,” Hayden says of the “Collateral Murder” video released by WikiLeaks that shows a U.S. helicopter shooting to death civilians, including two Reuters journalists, in an Iraqi street. 
“I actually share that view—when I was director of CIA there was some stuff we were doing I wanted all 300 million Americans to know. But I never figured out a way about informing a whole bunch of other people that didn’t have a right to that information who may actually use that image, or that fact or that data or that message, to harm my country.”

Adrian Lamo, who worked as an FBI informant, faking a friendship with Manning to sell him out, is given a perch in the film to wring his hands like Judas over how agonizing it was for him to turn in Manning. He did it, he assures us, to keep the country safe, although no one has ever been able to point to any loss of life caused by the leak of the secret documents.

“I care more about Bradley than many of his supporters do. … And I had to betray that trust for the sake of all of the people that he put in danger,” Lamo says tearfully. It is one of the most cloying moments in the movie.

Assange, by the end of the film, is the butt of open ridicule. Bill Keller, when he was executive editor of The New York Times, published material from WikiLeaks documents and then trashed Assange, calling him in a 2011 article “elusive, manipulative and volatile” as well as “arrogant, thin-skinned, conspiratorial and oddly credulous.” In the Gibney film, Keller adds to his condemnation of Assange by saying: “He looked like a bag lady coming in. Sort of like a dingy, khaki sports coat, old tennis shoes, with socks that were kind of collapsing around his ankles and he clearly hadn’t bathed in several days.”

Keller was one of the most ardent cheerleaders for the war in Iraq.

Two of Gibney’s previous films, “Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room” and “Taxi to the Dark Side,” were masterful explorations into the black heart of empire. This time, Gibney was commissioned by Universal Studios—owned by Comcast—and paid to make a motion picture on WikiLeaks. He gave his corporate investors what they wanted.

WikiLeaks has published a line-by-line critique of the film’s transcript at http://justice4assange.com/IMG/html/gibney-transcript.html.

Monday, June 03, 2013

Turkey Talk: Getting Beyond Western Simpleton Analysis


Talking Turkey

by Craig Murray

To simply say “protestors good, government bad” in Turkey is a symptom of the Blair delusion, that in civil conflicts there are guys with white hats and guys with black hats, and that the West’s role is to ride into town and kill the guys in the black hats. That is what “liberal intervention” means. The main aim of my second autobiographical book, “The Catholic Orangemen of Togo”, was to explain through the truth of the Sierra Leone experience how very, very wrong this is.

In fact civil conflicts are usually horribly complex, anent a variety of very bad people all trying to gain or retain power, none of them from an altruistic desire to make the world a better place. There may be ordinary people on the streets with that altruistic desire, being used and manipulated by these men; but it is not the ordinary altruistic people on the streets who ever come to power. Ever.

In Turkey the heavy crushing of a rainbow of protests in Istanbul has been going on for at least a month now. A week ago I was discussing it with my publisher, whose son lives in the city. A fortnight ago I was in Istanbul myself.

The Turkish people I was with were natural Erdogan supporters, and what struck me very forcibly was the fact that he has sickened many of his own natural allies by the rampant corruption in Turkey at present. Almost everyone I met spoke to me about corruption, and Turkey being Turkey, everyone seemed to know a very great deal of detail about how corruption was organised in various building and development projects and who was getting what. It therefore is hardly surprising that the spark which caused this conflict to flare to a new level was ignited by a corrupt deal to build a shopping centre on a park. The desecration of something lovely for money could be a metaphor for late Erdogan government.

The park is very small beer compared to the massive corruption involved in the appalling and megalomaniac Bosphorus canal project. Everyone talked to me about that one. The mainstream media, who never seem to know what is happening anywhere, seem to have missed that a major cause of the underlying unrest in Istanbul was the government’s announcement eight weeks ago that the Bosphorus canal is going ahead.

People are also incensed by the new proposal that would ban the sale of alcohol within 100 metres of any mosque or holy site, ie anywhere within central Istanbul. That would throw thousands of people out of work, damage the crucial tourist trade and is rightly seen as a symptom of reprehensible mounting religious intolerance that endangers Turkish society.

So there are plenty of legitimate reasons to protest, and the appalling crushing of protest is the best of them

But – and this is what it is never in the interest of Western politicians to understand – Government bad does not equal protestors good. A very high proportion – more than the British public realise by a very long way – of those protesting in the streets are off the scale far right nationalists of a kind that make the BNP look cuddly and Nigel Farage look like Tony Benn. Kemalism – the worship of Ataturk and a very unpleasant form of military dominated nationalism – remains very strong indeed in Istanbul. Ataturk has a very strong claim, ahead of Mussolini, to be viewed as the inventor of modern fascism

For every secular liberal in Istanbul there are two secular ultra-nationalist militarists. To westerners they stress the secular bit and try to hide the rest, and this works on the uncurious (being uncurious is a required attribute to get employed by the mainstream media). Of course there are decent, liberal, environmentalist protestors and the media will have no difficulty, now they have finally noticed something is happening, in filling our screens with beautiful young women who fit that description, to interview. But that is not all of what is going on here.

There certainly was no more freedom in Turkey before the AKP came to power. Government for decades had been either by the Kemalist military in dictatorship or occasionally by civilian governments they tolerated and controlled. People suddenly have short memories if they think protest was generally tolerated pre-Erdogan, and policy towards the Kurds was massively more vicious.

The military elite dominated society and through corruption they dominated commerce and the economy. The interests of a protected and generally fascist urban upper middle class were the only interests that counted at all. The slightest threat to those interests brought a military coup – again, and again, and again. Religion was barely tolerated, and they allied closely with Israel and the United States.

When Erdogan first came to power it was the best thing that had happened to Turkey for decades. The forgotten people of the Anatolian villages, and the lower middle class of the cities, had a voice and a position in the state for the first time. In individual towns and villages, the military and their clients who had exercised absolute authority had their power suddenly diminished. I witnessed this and it was a new dawn, and it felt joyous.

Then of course Erdogan gradually got sucked in to power, to money, to NATO, to the corruption of his Black Sea mafia and to arrogance. It all went very wrong, as it always seems to. That is where we are now.

Yes of course I want those pretty, genuinely liberal environmentalist girls in the park to take power. But they won’t. Look at the hard-eyed fascists behind them. Look at the western politicians licking their lips thinking about the chance to get a nice very right wing, anti-Muslim and pro-Israel government into power.

We should all be concerned at what is happening in Turkey. We should all call for an end to violent repression. But to wish the overthrow of a democratically elected government, and its replacement – by what exactly? – is a very, very foolish reaction.

A Necessary Synergy: Iran and the Arab World


Why Arabs Need Iran: Part I


by Sharmine Narwani - Sandbox

In 2011, when Arab revolts began to sweep the Middle East and North Africa, the view from Washington and its closest allies was one of concern. How would the removal of mostly pro-Western dictatorships affect the balance of power in the region? More importantly – how to prevent these events from boosting Iran’s influence?

Two years on, the regional competition for influence is in full throttle. In its sights – among many other developments – are recent efforts by Iran and Egypt to upgrade their relationship.

The spoilers will have none of it. Said Steven A. Cook last week on the website of that most prestigious of US institutions, the Council on Foreign Relations (CFR):

“Other than some quick cash and subsidized energy, there is nothing that Tehran can offer Cairo that will, in the long run, be to Egypt’s benefit.”

He has it entirely wrong. “Quick cash and subsidized energy” can only be used to describe the superficial offerings of countries like Saudi Arabia and Qatar, both vying for influence in this new Egypt.

There is no contest whatsoever between that kind of assistance and what Iran can bring to the table. Iran has achieved its economic independence the hardest way imaginable – through a devastating eight-year war with Iraq and decades of potentially-debilitating sanctions. It has shrugged off the yoke of imperialism, built infrastructure, social services and industry from scratch, harnessed its own resources toward establishing domestic self-sufficiencies, created a dynamic – if imperfect – indigenous political system of representative government, and managed to maintain the security of its oft-threatened borders through military innovation and soft power.

In short, with similar-sized populations (Iran’s 78 million to Egypt’s 82 million) and the experience of tackling monumental state-building challenges with varying degrees of success, there is simply no country better situated to provide developmental guidance to Egypt – and other economically vulnerable Arab states – than the Islamic Republic of Iran.

Seeing is Believing

Other than a frustratingly brief trip some years ago to attend a Tehran conference where I had little opportunity to get around, I had not visited Iran in eight years. In the latter part of 2012, I made three trips to the country – in large part to discover how Iran continues to thrive despite the “biting sanctions” we keep hearing about.

And thrive it does. Visitors land at the brand new Imam Khomeini international airport as a first step in experiencing an utterly revamped Tehran. You drive into the city on new highways, lit up almost excessively by closely aligned lampposts and the Iranian penchant for colorful lighting at major intersections. Streets are lined with trees, shrubs and flowers planted and nurtured by a succession of rather remarkable mayors that Tehran residents like to boast about.

Those are the city planners who develop well-manicured parks and children’s playgrounds to break up the urban monotony, build women’s sports facilities to encourage good health, spearhead campaigns on AIDS awareness, and pass out free condoms and hypodermic needles to prevent infection among drug users.

Tehran feels new and fresh – like it has had a facelift. New buildings abound, each more luxurious than the last, although sales have slowed dramatically in recent years, much like in other capitals hit by economic slowdown and ridiculously expensive housing. I cannot believe the greenery – this is a dry climate and I cannot seem to recall the city ever overflowing with late summer foliage like this.

New restaurants, cafés, and boutiques dot the boulevards; the bazaars are well-stocked and cleaner than I recall. Nothing seems to be in shortage – and Iranians are producing more of the food products on their supermarket shelves than ever before. In 2011, Iran ranked 11th globally in agricultural output, just behind Japan, Russia, Turkey, and Australia – and is ranked first and second worldwide in the production of a variety of fruits, vegetables, spices, and nuts ranging from apricots, cucumbers and walnuts to pistachios, saffron, and watermelon.

This is a country hell-bent on achieving self-sufficiency, after all. Under threat of increasingly punitive US-sponsored economic sanctions, Iran’s Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei last year promised the development of a “Resistance Economy” that will aim to stop all dependence on oil revenues and switch to knowledge-based industries and vital commodities instead.

After eight years away from the country, none of Tehran’s significant advances impressed me as much as the pollution-solution. Surrounded by the Alborz mountain range that traps pollutants, the capital has struggled for decades to lessen air pollution, much of which stemmed from aging vehicles that service a city of more than 12 million residents.

During past trips to Tehran, the stench of petrol from cars was omnipresent in congested areas – you'd have to clean blackened particles from your nose every day. In 2012, I experienced none of these things. The city still has high alerts on dangerous pollution days, but has come a long way from the days when the municipality enforced alternative driving days for cars with even and odd license plate numbers.

For starters, during my eight-year absence, Tehran has launched around 80 subway stations servicing more than 2.5 million passengers daily, and inaugurated a 60-station rapid transit bus system with just under two million daily users.

More impressive yet is the Islamic Republic’s nationwide effort to convert public transportation and privately owned vehicles from petrol engines to ones that run on Compressed Natural Gas (CNG).

Pay attention now. Iran’s experiment to switch to alternative fuel-based vehicles is the kind of super-efficient central government initiative that the country now frequently launches – with varying degrees of success. It is one of many zero-to-a-hundred projects initiated in recent years that seeks to diversify the economy, create jobs, generate revenues or solve a problem. To Iran’s credit, at least they think big and make the effort – few other governments engage in these kinds of expansive nation-building activities anymore.

Partly to help stem air pollution, and mostly to reduce the country’s dependence on imported gasoline – and therefore mitigate the effect of US-backed sanctions against companies that sold refined petroleum to Iran – the Islamic Republic embarked on an ambitious program to adopt Natural Gas Vehicles (NGV) based on alternative fuels.

In just a few years, Iran has established a fleet of around 3 million NGV, the largest in the world (by contrast, the US has just over 200,000) and now has the capacity to domestically manufacture 1.5 million CNG cylinders per year at extremely competitive costs.

Big Thinkers Build Nations

In writing this series of articles based on my Iran trips, I am constantly reminded of an MSNBC promotional ad featuring Rachel Maddow, where she stands in front of the Hoover Dam in a blue hardhat and gets sentimental about big-projects-that-build-nations:

“When you are this close to Hoover Dam, it makes you realize how small a human is in relation to this as a human project. You can’t be the guy who builds this, you can’t be the town who builds this, you can’t even be the state who builds this, you’ve got to be the country that builds something like this. This is a national project – this is a project of national significance. We’ve got those projects on the menu right now and we’ve got to figure out whether or not we are still a country that can think this big.”

The current mayor of Tehran Mohammad Bagher Ghalibaf – a former commander in the Revolutionary Guard and national police chief who is widely admired for his big thinking and ability to get the job done – happens to be one of eight candidates running for president in the June elections.

Tehran residents are attached to their mayors, and in a city of between 12 to 14 million, are able to propel them to the presidency (current Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad was the previous mayor). And after eight years in this role, you would be hard pressed to find a Tehrani who doesn’t praise Ghalibaf for his role in developing their capital. If he emerges as a national frontrunner, Tehran will push him over the line.

Among the other eight 2013 presidential contenders is Dr. Gholam-Ali Haddad-Adel, a former speaker of parliament (majlis) who holds one of Tehran's 30 majlis seats and a close adviser to Iran’s Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, to whom he is related through marriage.

I met with Haddad-Adel during one of my trips to Iran last year – not to discuss regional or domestic politics – but to learn about four “academies” set up by the Iranian government two decades ago. These academies are meant to drive “big thinking,” establish best practices, and initiate macro planning for national projects in the areas of Sciences, Medical Sciences, Arts, and the Farsi language.

The Farsi language as a big national project? As it happens, that’s the academy headed up by Haddad-Adel, who holds a PhD in philosophy and has translated Immanuel Kant’s books into the Persian language.

What could be so urgent and critical about the national language that would move a country under prohibitive international sanctions to direct resources toward it?

“Farsi is as old as Iranian civilization – they are inseparable,” explains Haddad-Adel. “We Iranians are proud of our national language and literature. We regard our Persian literature as one of the most important elements of our national identity. And we have to support this language against the dangers that threaten it – new words, idioms and terms entering the language through science, technology and culture – mostly through the English language.”

Under Haddad-Adel's tenure, one of the 15 departments dedicated to the task of preserving the Persian language has created a nine-volume dictionary converting over 40,000 foreign words into Persian equivalents. A quick glimpse through the final volume shows that a lot of the terminology being replaced are technological, medical and scientific words (laparascopy, intra-muscular injection, binary pulsar, supramolecular). But also covered are subjects like political sciences (interdependence, deconstructionism, national security), music (chord, grand-barre, capo d'astro) and sport (play-offs, kayak, surfboard).

Seventy different university groups and more than 150 people are involved in this task. The academy has developed complicated software for finding Persian equivalents for English terms.

“Language is not something that can be improved by command though,” says Haddad-Adel. “The velocity of development is so rapid, it is not possible for the public to follow it. We try to disseminate it through cultural ways.”

Another project of the academy: a Persian-to-Persian dictionary covering at least 1,000 years of the language - and tracking words like “khasteh” which means “tired” in modern Farsi and “injured” in old Persian through its exportation to the Ottoman Empire and current usage in modern Turkey as “hastehan” which means “hospital.”

Yet another department is developing a six-volume encyclopedia containing the “whole history of Persian language and literature in the Indian subcontinent.” Explains Haddad-Adel: “Persian was welcomed by Indians. It was a language of culture and has been for more than 800 years the official language of the old Indian courts and intellectuals. British colonialism ended this.”

There is more to this than the preservation of language – cultural revivalism, national security, identity politics, nationalism are woven into the fabric of the academy's work. The Iran of Haddad-Adel isn't a nation in decline – it appears to be getting geared up to lead a renaissance.

Mississippi Calls on Iran for Help

I next visited the director of the Medical Sciences academy Dr. Alireza Marandi, a pediatrician by training, two-time minister of health, university professor and a current member of the Majlis from Tehran.

In 2009, I had read an article in the UK-based Sunday Times (reproduced on this blog) that told the remarkable story of Iran’s provincial health houses. The post-revolution initiative to rapidly deliver basic medical care to underserved rural areas was able, in a short time, to reduce child mortality rates by 69 percent and maternal mortality in rural areas from 300 per 100,000 births to 30.

So astounding were these results that the US state of Mississippi – which, according to the Sunday Times article, has "some of the worst health statistics in the country, including infant mortality rates for non-whites at Third World levels" – turned to Iran for advice, assistance and training on how to achieve these results back home.

Dr. Marandi was Iran's minister of health around the time the first health houses (khaneh behdasht) were established in post-revolutionary Iran. He recalls the difficulties in getting funding back in the early 1980s:

"During the Iran-Iraq war we had very little oil to export – we were limited to about one million barrels per day. The price of oil had come down to about $7-8 per barrel. The country was under bombardment. Yet during this time, the country still focused on developing a primary healthcare system."

That wasn't even the hard part. When majlis-approved funding finally came in to run one pilot program in each of Iran's provinces, the planners had a difficult time finding local men and women with the required five years of elementary education to staff the health houses – especially the girls. Today, with literacy rates among Iran's youth (ages 15-24) at 98 percent according to the World Bank, all health house workers have at least a high school education.

The women are trained for basic healthcare procedures – monthly check-ups for mothers, vaccines for children, schedules and checklists, breastfeeding guidance, preventive care. The men are largely responsible for environmental health issues like water and sanitation – they check village water supplies, add chlorine where necessary, teach locals personal hygiene, how to disinfect things, install basic toilets, and lay water pipes.

Today, says Marandi, Iran has some 20,000 health houses in 65-70,000 villages around the country and has established a primary healthcare "network" connecting health houses to larger health centers in larger towns, which in turn plug into hospitals and specialized medical facilities in urban areas. Although challenges still exist in this system, Iran has solved a vital social service and healthcare challenge that continues to plague most developing nations.

Despite a lack of funds, Marandi's ministry of health tackled many more major health problems in those early days. In 1983, the highest rate of immunization in Iran was 25 percent. A few years later, that rate skyrocketed to 95 percent throughout the country. Iranians desperately needed more physicians (only 12,000) and a more diversified medical worker base, so the ministry of health under Marandi pushed through a bill that took all health-related schools (midwifery, dentistry, nursing, etc) away from the ministry of education. By streamlining and adding to existing resources, in that first year 1,200 students were increased to 6,000, students were directed into undermanned specialties where jobs awaited, and new schools of medicine were built – at least one for each province.

Today, there are 120,000 physicians in Iran. The country is self-sufficient in the production of medical experts and support staff, and has diversified into specialties like fertility treatments, heart, cornea, and kidney transplants that Iranians were forced to seek outside the country a few decades ago. Iranian expertise and relatively low-costs now even draw medical tourism from near (Iraq) and far (Canada).

"We now have every subspecialty you can think of," says Marandi, who received an award for his accomplishments from the World Health Organization (WHO) in 2000.

While Iran has the benefit of considerable oil resources to cushion its economy, throughout the 1980s the country was broke. Economically, Iran was in not much better a position than Egypt or Jordan are today, both countries just months away from bankruptcy. There is a missionary zeal that permeates the higher echelons of government and their immediate ranks below. Many decision makers I interviewed are driven by both religious faith and geopolitics – determined to satisfy public needs and focused on discovering efficiencies that will thwart the negative effects of sanctions. Despite frequent accusations of corruption and mismanagement, clearly a lot is getting done in the country – and with a real spirit of innovation.

In the next installments, I will write about my interviews with leaders in technological and scientific fields including Iran's controversial nuclear energy program, huge achievements in nanotechnology, political insights on what top Iranian politicians think about a Muslim Brotherhood-led Egypt, and US-sponsored sanctions...and the unexpected fact that Iran has cloned sheep.


Sharmine Narwani is a commentary writer and political analyst covering the Middle East. You can follow Sharmine on twitter @snarwani.

Iraq's Post-War Cancer Plague


The Iniquities of the Iraq War

by John Pilger - CounterPunch

The dust in Iraq rolls down the long roads that are the desert’s fingers. It gets in your eyes and nose and throat; it swirls in markets and school playgrounds, consuming children kicking a ball; and it carries, according to Dr. Jawad Al-Ali, “the seeds of our death”. An internationally respected cancer specialist at the Sadr Teaching Hospital in Basra, Dr. Ali told me that in 1999, and today his warning is irrefutable.

“Before the Gulf war,” he said, “we had two or three cancer patients a month. Now we have 30 to 35 dying every month. Our studies indicate that 40 to 48 per cent of the population in this area will get cancer: in five years’ time to begin with, then long after. That’s almost half the population. Most of my own family have it, and we have no history of the disease. It is like Chernobyl here; the genetic effects are new to us; the mushrooms grow huge; even the grapes in my garden have mutated and can’t be eaten.”

Along the corridor, Dr. Ginan Ghalib Hassen, a paediatrician, kept a photo album of the children she was trying to save. Many had neuroplastoma.

“Before the war, we saw only one case of this unusual tumour in two years,” she said. “Now we have many cases, mostly with no family history. I have studied what happened in Hiroshima. The sudden increase of such congenital malformations is the same.”

Among the doctors I interviewed, there was little doubt that depleted uranium shells used by the Americans and British in the Gulf War were the cause. A US military physicist assigned to clean up the Gulf War battlefield across the border in Kuwait said,

“Each round fired by an A-10 Warthog attack aircraft carried solid uranium. Well over 300 tons of DU was used. It was a form of nuclear warfare.”

Although the link with cancer is always difficult to prove absolutely, the Iraqi doctors argue that “the epidemic speaks for itself”. The British oncologist Karol Sikora, chief of the cancer programme of the World Health organisation (WHO) in the 1990s, wrote in the British Medical Journal:

“Requested radiotherapy equipment, chemotherapy drugs and analgesics are consistently blocked by United States and British advisers [to the Iraq Sanctions Committee].” He told me, “We were specifically told [by the WHO] not to talk about the whole Iraq business. The WHO is not an organisation that likes to get involved in politics.”

Recently, Hans von Sponeck, the former assistant secretary general of the United Nations and senior UN humanitarian official in Iraq, wrote to me:

“The US government sought to prevent WHO from surveying areas in southern Iraq where depleted uranium had been used and caused serious health and environmental dangers.”

Today, a WHO report, the result on a landmark study conducted jointly with the Iraqi Ministry of Health has been “delayed”. Covering 10,800 households, it contains “damning evidence”, says a ministry official and, according to one of its researchers, remains “top secret”. The report says that birth defects have risen to a “crisis” right across Iraqi society where DU and other toxic heavy metals were by the US and Britain. Fourteen years after he sounded the alarm, Dr. Jawad Al-Ali reports “phenomenal” multiple cancers in entire families.

Iraq is no longer news. Last week, the killing of 57 Iraqis in one day was a non-event compared with the murder of a British soldier in London. Yet the two atrocities are connected. Their emblem might be a lavish new movie of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby. Two of the main characters, as Fitzgerald wrote,

“smashed up things and creatures and retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness … and let other people clean up the mess”.

The “mess” left by George Bush and Tony Blair in Iraq is a sectarian war, the bombs of 7/7 and now a man waving a bloody meat cleaver in Woolwich. Bush has retreated back into his Mickey Mouse “presidential library and museum” and Tony Blair into his jackdaw travels and his money.

Their “mess” is a crime of epic proportions, wrote Von Sponeck, referring to the Iraqi Ministry of Social Affairs’ estimate of 4.5 million children who have lost both parents. “This means a horrific 14 per cent of Iraq’s population are orphans,” he wrote. “An estimated one million families are headed by women, most of them widows”. Domestic violence and child abuse are rightly urgent issues in Britain; in Iraq the catastrophe ignited by Britain has brought violence and abuse into millions of homes.

In her book Dispatches from the Dark Side, Gareth Peirce, Britain’s greatest human rights lawyer, applies the rule of law to Blair, his propagandist Alastair Campbell and his colluding cabinet. For Blair, she wrote,

“human beings presumed to hold [Islamist] views, were to be disabled by any means possible, and permanently … in Blair’s language a ‘virus’ to be ‘eliminated’ and requiring ‘a myriad of interventions [sic] deep into the affairs of other nations.’ ” The very concept of war was mutated to “our values versus theirs”. And yet, says Peirce, “the threads of emails, internal government communiques reveal no dissent”.

For Foreign Secretary Jack Straw, sending innocent British citizens to Guantanamo was “the best way to meet our counter terrorism objective”.

These crimes, their iniquity on a par with Woolwich, await prosecution. But who will demand it? In the kabuki theatre of British politics, the faraway violence of “our values” is of no interest. Do the rest of us also turn our backs?



John Pilger’s film on Australia, Utopia, will be released in the autumn.

Sunday, June 02, 2013

Yara Abbas: Another Voice Lost in Syria

Yara Abbas - In Her Own Words

by Sharmine Narwani - Mideast Shuffle


I met Al Ikhbariya journalist Yara Abbas for the first and only time in August 2012. I was organizing my trip into Aleppo and was looking to talk to someone on the ground about safety issues.

An acquaintance of Yara’s who worked at my hotel told me he knew a journalist on the front lines of the conflict in Aleppo, and gave me her number.

When Yara and I finally spoke, she was on her way back to Damascus and warned me down the phone line about the road between Aleppo and its airport, at the time subject to random checkpoints set up by armed rebels.

The connection wasn’t great. “Look – I reach Damascus tonight. Why don’t we meet tomorrow and talk in person,” she kindly suggested via mobile.

The following day I headed to her temporary offices off Ummayad Square. In June, Al Ikhbariya’s headquarters had been bombed by Jabhat al Nusra, gutting the building and killing seven members of staff, including three journalists. The new facilities where I met Yara had also been recently bombed, but on a much smaller scale – I think only one studio was destroyed.

Yara had rushed back to Damascus from nine straight days embedded with Syrian troops in Aleppo to await news about her roommate and fellow Al Ikhbariya colleague Yara Saleh – recently kidnapped by rebels along with three other crew members, one of whom, Hatem Abu Yehia, was later executed.

Our conversation was interrupted by phone calls from friends and colleagues calling to commiserate over Saleh’s kidnapping. Yara was clearly shaken by the news and teared up several times during these calls.

She was a striking young woman in her mid 20s – slender, tall, huge green eyes framed by long dark hair. Most notable though were her immaculately manicured long fingernails. A solitary girlish vanity on the front lines of combat, I grinned to myself.

I rarely have reason to interview members of the media. My only two exceptions have both been related to the Syrian conflict – the first, Paul Conroy, the freelance Sunday Times cameraman injured in Homs who I interviewed outside his London hospital – and now Yara.

Although I went to meet Yara for tips on how to avoid the dangers of Aleppo, I ended up taking some notes because she was providing accounts and impressions of events that, at the time, were still novel.

I wish I had taken more notes – at some point fairly early on, I just stopped writing and focused on listening to her stories. Some of the things I recall from our conversation that I didn’t commit to paper are details about army tactics. The soldiers she had just left behind in Aleppo, for instance, moved in small groups from house to house, and street to street. I had looked into this subject in June during a trip to learn more about the army’s recent escalation of military operations in hotspots around the country after the UN mission had failed to establish a ceasefire.

Unlike what is reported widely in the media, until – and even after – the Syrian military introduced their air force into the conflict, ground troops continue to wage small-scale operations in neighborhoods occupied by opposition militias. This usually starts with gathering intelligence on where rebels store their weapons, who they are, where they live – getting the lay of the land, so to speak – and then moves on to small ground operations to target and destroy these networks.

Yara’s account of her nine days embedded with the army in Aleppo confirmed this for me, but she surprised me with the information that the soldiers she travelled with mostly slept in the conflict zone itself – in a vacant home or sometimes on the street. Having wrested back territory, they were unwilling to leave it for the night. When I asked her if she was afraid, Yara was emphatic that she has never been afraid of moving in sniper-filled corridors. She told me that the soldiers – whom she had first met in Damascus and then followed into Aleppo – protected her with their lives and made her feel safe.

When I heard of Yara’s death this week – at the hands of a sniper, no less – my first thought, oddly, was of this. The Syrian army soldiers who she admired so much were not there to protect her as her car raced out of war-torn Qusayr.

Here is Yara last August, in her own words:

On the scene in Aleppo: At the beginning there were still civilians in these areas (in Aleppo’s contested neighborhoods), now maybe 20% remain.

I went with the army and knocked at the door of one woman. She started to cry – please take me out of here. They removed her and took her to her brother’s home. The militias make holes in the walls of homes to go from building to building to avoid being out in the open. Seventy percent of the destruction there is from militias. I saw 12 big bombs and 35 small ones in a home they had taken over.

You see the same militia patterns in Homs as in Aleppo – there are no tactical differences. Their plan is to gain weapons, kill Syrian soldiers, hit government buildings.

On the militias:

I saw three from Lebanon, one from Africa, from Libya. All of the ones whose passports we found in their hideout had travelled to Saudi Arabia, Cyprus and Turkey – there are stamps in their passports. Some of their weapons are coming on the Lebanon-Syria border via donkeys.

They send out women and kids to see where the soldiers are, what they are doing. I saw a woman with a stroller myself – soldiers asked me to go talk to her. She had guns in her pram that she was delivering to militias.

They sent an old man past one checkpoint saying he wants to go check on his home – he had a bomb on him and they detonated it.

FSA has very developed weapons, and they have all kinds of weapons. Bombs, doshkas (heavy machine guns) and Shilkas (radar-guided anti-aircraft system), anti-tank weapons, anti-aircraft weapons. An anti-aircraft weapon was just used in Idlib.

I’ve become so much more determined and strong after my time in Aleppo. They put a mask of religion on their face – they are not fighting for true issues. Their demands for freedom are false. Look at what they are doing to civilians. They say they want to stop the violence, but they’re making the violence.

If they were true, they will not have a weapon. They will be unable to kill the Syrian people. There are a lot of Islamists who are also rejecting these militias because they know they are not fighting for Syrian progress. Yes, there are people who are helping them, but also a lot of Islamists who are refusing this way. I saw this myself in the middle of Salaheddine (heavily contested Aleppo neighborhood). They (pious Syrians) stayed home and pray, but won’t open the door to the militias. They are scared.

This varies in areas. In Hajjar al-Aswad (Damascus suburb) about 80% are pro-militia. About 90% in Aleppo are with the government now.

On the Syrian army:

You see our soldiers when they are attacked, sometimes when they are dead. You cannot be separated from this. These soldiers know they’re going to be killed. They stand in the middle of the street and shoot – they are not afraid. They have a mission.

A soldier from Talbiseh (near Homs) has seven gunshots in his body from Duma and he’s come back to fight.

From Rastan, Deraa, Idlib – all of them don’t want to go back – they want to stay and fight.

One soldier, a Sunni from Idlib had a gunshot in his leg – he refused to leave the army. He went to the hospital and came back the next day to fight in Aleppo. In Idlib militias put pressure on his family to make him leave the army – they took his brother for a while, beat him up a bit. But the soldier said “they can take my whole family, but not my country.” I did a story on him.

The group of soldiers I’m with in Aleppo, I met in Damascus. Before that they were in Homs and Deraa. They are so young, but they’re so strong.

Yara is listed as the 38th media casualty of the Syrian conflict – by any standard that is a shocking number of journalists to have lost their lives covering a story. In Syria, increasingly, it appears that reporters are being singled out for execution. Whichever perspective a journalist brings to this highly-contested media war over Syria, death is surely undeserved.

Rest in Peace, Yara Abbas.

And…

Abdul Raheem Kour Hassan, Watan FM
Unknown, in Damascus, Syria

Ghaith Abd al-Jawad, Qaboun Media Center
March 10, 2013, in Damascus, Syria

Amr Badir al-Deen Junaid, Qaboun Media Center
March 10, 2013, in Damascus, Syria

Walid Jamil Amira, Jobar Media Center
March 3, 2013, in Damascus, Syria

Mohamed al-Mesalma, Al-Jazeera
January 18, 2013, in Daraa, Syria

Yves Debay, Assault
January 17, 2013, in Aleppo, Syria

Suhail Mahmoud al-Ali, Addounia TV
January 4, 2013, in Damascus, Syria

Naji Asaad, Tishreen
December 4, 2012, in Damascus, Syria

Mohamed Quratem, Enab Baladi
November 28, 2012, in Darya, Syria

Mohamed al-Khal, Freelance
November 25, 2012, in Deir al-Zour, Syria

Basel Tawfiq Youssef, Syrian State TV
November 21, 2012, in Damascus, Syria

Hozan Abdel Halim Mahmoud, Freelance
November 19, 2012, in Ras al-Ain, Syria

Mohammed al-Ashram, Al-Ikhbariya
October 10, 2012, in Deir Al-Zour, Syria

Mona al-Bakkour, Al-Thawra and Syria al-Qalaa
October 3, 2012, in Aleppo, Syria

Maya Naser, Press TV
September 26, 2012, in Damascus, Syria

Abdel Karim al-Oqda, Shaam News Network
September 19, 2012, in Hama, Syria

Yusuf Ahmed Deeb, Liwaa Al-Fatih
September 16, 2012, in Aleppo, Syria

Tamer al-Awam, Freelance
September 9, 2012, in Aleppo, Syria

Mosaab al-Obdaallah, Tishreen
August 22, 2012, in Damascus, Syria

Mika Yamamoto, Japan Press
August 20, 2012, in Aleppo, Syria

Ali Abbas, SANA
August 11, 2012, in Damascus, Syria

Hatem Abu Yehia, Al-Ikhbariya
August 10, 2012, in Al-Tal, Syria

Mohammad Shamma, Al-Ikhbariya
June 27, 2012, in Doursha, Syria

Sami Abu Amin, Al-Ikhbariya
June 27, 2012, in Doursha, Syria

Ahmed al-Assam, Freelance
May 28, 2012, in Homs, Syria

Bassel al-Shahade, Freelance
May 28, 2012, in Homs, Syria

Ahmed Adnan al-Ashlaq, Shaam News Network
May 27, 2012, in Damascus, Syria

Lawrence Fahmy al-Naimi, Shaam News Network
May 27, 2012, in Damascus, Syria

Ammar Mohamed Suhail Zado, Shaam News Network
May 27, 2012, in Damascus, Syria

Anas al-Tarsha, Freelance
February 24, 2012, in Homs, Syria

Rémi Ochlik, Freelance
February 22, 2012, in Homs, Syria

Marie Colvin, The Sunday Times
February 22, 2012, in Homs, Syria

Rami al-Sayed, Freelance
February 21, 2012, in Homs, Syria

Mazhar Tayyara, Freelance
February 4, 2012, in Homs, Syria

Gilles Jacquier, France 2
January 11, 2012, in Homs, Syria

Basil al-Sayed, Freelance
December 27, 2011, in Homs, Syria

Ferzat Jarban, Freelance
November 19 or 20, 2011, in Al-Qasir, Syria

-Committee to Protect Journalists

Ships of the Desert Ocean: Water, Water Everywhere Shrinking

The (Less Than) Eternal Sea: The Poet’s Metaphor and the Styrofoaming of the Waters

by Lewis Lapham - TomDispatch

In heavy fog on the night of October 7, 1936, the SS Ohioan ran aground three miles south and west of San Francisco’s Golden Gate Bridge, and by noon on October 8th, I was among a crowd of spectators come to pay its respects to the no small terror of the sea. I was two years old, hoisted on the shoulders of my father, for whom the view to windward was neither openly nor latently sublime. The stranded vessel, an 8,046-ton freighter laden with a cargo valued at $450,000, was owned by the family steamship company of which my father one day was to become the president, and he would have been counting costs instead of looking to the consolations of philosophy. No lives had been lost -- Coast Guard boats had rescued the captain and the crew -- but the first assessments of the damaged hull pegged the hopes of salvage in the vicinity of few and none.

Happily aloft in the vicinity of my father’s hat, and the weather having cleared since the Ohioan missed its compass heading, I was free to form my earliest impression of the sea at a safe and sunny distance, lulled by the sound of waves breaking on the beach, delighting in the drift of gulls in a bright blue sky.
 
 
Tomgram: Lewis Lapham, The Ocean as Desert

As a boy, I was forbidden what were then called “horror comics.” So, of course, with the first purloined dime I could get my hands on, during a vacation when I was eight or nine, I snuck into the local store and bought the grisliest looking one I could find. Predictably, it scared the hell out of me. I still remember the story -- or one of them anyway -- about a little boy who went swimming in the ocean, was dragged under the water by a race of reptilian creatures, grew scales, and never returned to humanity. I can also remember being on the beach that summer and my mother urging me, “Tommy, go ahead, go in the water.” I was hesitating on the shoreline, worrying about the actual crabs that I knew were out there somewhere, waiting to spot my tasty toes, and then of course that reptilian crew I had no doubt were also lurking just beyond the first small waves of Long Island Sound, preparing to drag me to my fate.

So don’t tell me I don’t know the dangers of this planet’s waters. I do. They remain alive in my mind more than six decades later. I’m now a swimmer, but take me out of the pool and put me in open water of any sort, even a pond or a lake, and it doesn’t take long before I can sense the Great White (thank you, Jaws!), the massive anaconda, or the more prosaic giant snapping turtle heading my way. Yes, I know the stats on shark deaths off the U.S. (essentially zero). Yes, I know it’s irrational. But what can you do?

These days, we also know that the ways the inhabitants of the waters of the world can attack us are far less fearful than the ways we continue to attack them, or perhaps simply the ways we use those waters as if they were a vast sewer system into which we dump the overflow, material and chemical, from our world. The increasing overfishing, acidification, and garbage-ification of the planet’s waters is a disturbing development. As ever, versatile TomDispatch regular Lewis Lapham focuses on a new subject, those planetary waters, about which he once again turns out to know more than the rest of us combined. He catches the dreams, the glories, the fears, the fantasies, and the modern nightmares involving the seven seas in his introduction to the summer issue of his remarkable magazine, Lapham’s Quarterly. As always, that magazine unites some of the most provocative and original voices in history around a single topic. (You can subscribe to it by clicking here.) TomDispatch thanks the editors of that journal for allowing us to offer an exclusive look at Lapham’s introduction to the new issue. Tom
 
[This essay will appear in "The Sea," the Summer 2013 issue of Lapham's Quarterly. This slightly adapted version is posted at TomDispatch.com with the kind permission of that magazine.]

The (Less Than) Eternal Sea: The Poet’s Metaphor and the Styrofoaming of the Waters

by Lewis Lapham

The injured ship never regained consciousness. All attempts at righting it were to no avail, and in the summer of 1937, the removable planking and machinery having been sold for scrap, the Ohioan was declared a total loss, the hull abandoned to the drumming of the surf and the shifting of the sand. The prolonged and unhappy ending of the story my father regarded as a useful lesson, and over the course of the next three years as I was moving up in age from two to five, he often walked me by the hand along the cliff above the wreck to behold the work of its destruction.

To foster my acquaintance with the family’s history and changing fortunes, he spoke of distant ancestors sailing from the port of Boston and the Gulf of Maine in the early-nineteenth-century China trade, of my great-grandfather’s organizing the American-Hawaiian Steamship Company in 1899 not because of the money in the business but because of the romance. My father’s turn of mind was literary, and he was fond of strengthening his narratives with lengthy quotations from William Shakespeare’s plays and extensive recitations from Joseph Conrad’s An Outcast of the Islands and Herman Melville’s Moby Dick.

Setting Sail

Floor-to-ceiling windows in my parents’ house on Fillmore Street faced the broad expanse of San Francisco Bay, as instructive a sight in sun or fog as any that exists in nature, but it was in the room without a view, in my father’s library among the stories told in books, that I learned to look upon the enchantment of the sea. By the time the Ohioan had been reduced to a fragment of the bow in the summer of 1938, it had become a fading memory, and I was on the lookout for pirates on the Spanish Main, for typhoons in the Sunda Strait.

Almost as soon as I could read I began with Ishmael’s setting foot aboard the Pequod and with the searching in an atlas for the track of the great white whale. My father patiently untied the knots of metaphor in Melville’s prose, discussed the virtues of Queequeg and Tashtego, appended footnotes about ill-fated ancestors lost in their attempts to round Cape Horn, steered my further reading toward Richard Henry Dana Jr.’s Two Years Before the Mast and Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, to the voyages of Walter Raleigh and Francis Drake. Meanwhile, at grammar school in grades five, six, and seven, I was moving up from the Greek gods and heroes, among them Odysseus and his wide-wandering on the wine-dark sea, to the various discoveries of America by Viking seafarers, Christopher Columbus, and the Mayflower, in eighth grade to the battles of Actium and Trafalgar.

Conrad says the love of the sea is in fact the love of ships, the thought coming to him in 1905 as an affectionate memory of the New South Dock as it was to be seen in the 1880s, “fifty hulls, at least, molded on lines of beauty and speed,” square-rigged and metal-plated, “moored all in a row, stem to quay, as if assembled there for an exhibition not of a great industry but of a great art,” such a sight as “no man’s eye shall behold again.” So, too, the sight of the United States Navy in San Francisco Bay between 1942 and 1945, its fleets assembled for war in the sublime and treacherous Pacific.

Seventy years have come and gone, but I still can see ships of every then-known tonnage, armament, and design -- aircraft carriers, destroyers, oil tankers, submarines, light and heavy cruisers, trawlers, minesweepers, PT boats -- lying at anchor or getting underway on the turn of a morning’s tide. I didn’t know how to step a mast, or tell the difference between a sandbar and a reef, but I knew that the Battle of Midway was fought somewhere in the same degree of longitude that had seen the end of Captain Ahab, and I contrived to picture myself as somehow engaged in mankind’s age-old struggle with the mystery and power of the sea.

The conceit was not that far-fetched. At the beginning of the war in 1939, the U.S. government requisitioned the American-Hawaiian’s fleet of 38 cargo vessels, most of them eventually pressed into service with the North Atlantic convoys bringing food and munitions to Britain and to Russia; 11 of them were torpedoed by German U-boats, another three scuttled to make the Mulberry harbors supplying the invasion of France; my father (an executive of a shipping line no longer possessed of ships) had been put in charge of the military port of embarkation forwarding the freight of men and weapons to every theater of operations south and west of the Golden Gate Bridge. In 1944, my grandfather was elected mayor of San Francisco, and when he was called upon to convey the city’s compliments to a victorious admiral returning from the Coral or the Philippine sea, he sometimes took me with him in the captain’s barge to be piped aboard the deck of a flagship dressed with men in uniform.

My teenage hopes of joining the Navy fell afoul of the physical examination administered by the Naval Reserve Officers Training Corps program to applicants in the freshman class at Yale College in the autumn of 1952. I proved to be blind to the distinction between the colors red and green, willing to steer for the Guerrière and glory but unable to read the signal flags. To correct the course of my disappointment my father called in a favor from the National Maritime Union in New York that allowed my temporary rating as an ordinary seaman aboard one of the family’s last surviving freighters during the summer between my sophomore and junior years at college.

The SS Mount Whitney sailed from Mobile, Alabama, to load iron ore from a mine on the Orinoco River in Venezuela, and when it slipped loose of tugboats and dropped the harbor pilot at the entrance to the bay, I was astonished by a sense of complete and boundless freedom, a casting off of all the troubles lurking in the hearts and onshore schemes of men. The poet Langston Hughes evidently felt similarly. At the age of 21, he quit the island of Manhattan to “find a vessel that was moving” and to escape “the feeling of always being controlled by others -- by parents, by employers, by some outer necessity not your own.”

Among the miseries to be left behind, Hughes mentions “the stupidities of color prejudice”; my own miseries were self-inflicted and of a lesser magnitude. I joined the ship on the night before it sailed, and several members of the crew, amused by the arrival in their midst of an Ivy League college kid from somewhere in an uptight, fancy neighborhood, undertook to acquaint me with the conduct becoming in a sailor. On learning that I’d never yet kept carnal company with a woman, they insisted on arranging the rite of passage in a waterfront brothel where they bet shots of bourbon and rounds of beer against the chances of my making the change from boy to man with each of the five girls on offer. To everybody’s surprise, not least my own, I did so.

Having been imprisoned for four years within the walls of a puritanical boarding school, another two years in a New England college not yet molested by the 1960s sexual revolution, I rejoiced in the discovery of a new and far, far better world. The next morning I was burdened with a heaviness of spirit and the fear of divine retribution in the form of a venereal disease, but as soon as the ship was moving, I knew that I would be making good my escape from the stain of sin, outward-bound to the state of grace that is the freedom of the open sea.

The Restless Sea

Which is the age-old promise that the sea is by no means bound to keep. Life at sea is of necessity the being controlled by others, by the captain of the ship or the regulation of the watch, by the motion of the waves and the direction of the wind. The point had not been lost on Conrad, who in his youth had served 20 years fore and aft the mast before going ashore to London in 1894 to become an author. He knew the sea to be “impenetrable and heartless,” giving “nothing of itself to the suitors for its precarious favors… its fickleness is to be held true to men’s purposes only by an undaunted resolution, and by a sleepless, armed, jealous vigilance, in which, perhaps, there has always been more hate than love.” The philosopher Immanuel Kant had reached much the same conclusion in 1790 without having gone to sea: “To call the ocean sublime we must regard it as poets do, merely by what strikes the eye; if it is at rest, as a clear mirror of water only bounded by the heaven; if it is restless, as an abyss threatening to overwhelm everything.”

As seen from the deck of the Mount Whitney in the summer of 1954, the sea was poetically at rest, as it was for Lafcadio Hearn in 1856, “sometimes smooth and gray yet flickering with the morning gold,” the horizon tinted with “opaline colors of milk and fire,” flying fish glimmering in “the liquid eternity” of infinite blue; the romance of that first voyage into the Caribbean didn’t stow aboard the second, nine years later under contract to the Saturday Evening Post, as a wide-wandering journalist.

The sea was in a restless mood, the control by others incompetent and violent. The editorial direction of the Post in 1963 had fallen into the hands of a publisher fond of staging publicity stunts, and in the summer of that year, the magazine was intent upon salvaging the wreck of a Spanish treasure fleet believed to have been lost somewhere off the coast of Honduras in 1605. Seven galleons in transit from Cartagena, Colombia, to Havana, all of them burdened with shipments of silver coin and gold plate.

Three hours out of Key West, on a heading for the Yucatán Channel, the Sea Hunter, a chartered shrimp boat 65-feet long with a round bottom and a shallow draft, rolled uncomfortably in a moderate sea while I listened to Robert F. Marx explain that upon our arrival at the Serranilla Bank we would be bringing up “the heavy stuff” in potato sacks. Listed on the Post’s masthead as its “Adventure Editor,” Marx was a handsome man in his late twenties, tall and deeply tanned, his gestures brave and bold, his eyes shaded by a wary, far-off squint. He cleaned his fingernails with a fish knife while discussing the venture that he had conceived, organized, and funded as a picture striking to the eye of a poetic magazine publisher. “I’ve been on lots of treasure hunts,” he said, “and this is the most scientific treasure hunt ever seen… the best equipment, and guys who really know what they’re doing.”

The on-board accumulation of diving gear together with state-of-the-art electronic devices and aerial photographs of the Serranilla Bank prompted a temporary willing suspension of disbelief; so did the credits of the other gentlemen on the manifest, among them a soon-to-be-retired commander in the U.S. Navy; from Bermuda, the “foremost treasure diver in the world”; from Annapolis, a champion waterskier and proud owner of a pet shark named Horace.

West of Grand Cayman, the Sea Hunter encountered heavy seas and winds gusting up to 50 miles an hour in a storm not unlike the one in which Columbus found himself “dreadfully buffeted” in 1502. For three days the boat was near foundering, monstrous seas breaking over the stern, the hull rolling through angles of between 30 and 40 degrees. All the navigational systems failed; the Navy commander, not knowing what else to do, turned to drink, and for three days I held fast to the cabin table, unable to think or speak. Columbus in his letter to Ferdinand and Isabella describes his crew as “weak and humbled in spirit” by the tempest, “many of them promising to lead a religious life.” I gladly would have done the same, had I known the prayers.

The storm passed on the afternoon of the fourth day, and according to our course setting from Grand Cayman we should have been at the southwest end of the Serranilla Bank by dawn. We arrived at noon, well off to the northeast. There was no evidence or sign of any wreck, Jamaican turtle schooner, or Spanish galleon -- nothing but a few seabirds in a forlorn and empty sky. We remained in the anchorage for the better part of a week; sporadic plunges into the perils and the secrets of the deep resulted in the recovery of three iron spikes, six nails, eighteen ballast stones, 235 seashells of assorted sizes and colors, two empty gin bottles both of British manufacture, one shapeless metal object identified by Marx as pewter, by the Bermudan as pig iron.

The Ocean as Desert


The voyage of discovery aboard the Sea Hunter brought with it recognition of the sea as a murderous abyss, also a reminder of the last days of the Ohioan, but it didn’t lead me to abandon the idea of the sea as apostrophized by Lord Byron as the “deep and dark blue ocean” unmarked by the ruin that mortal men visit upon the green but shallow earth. By the mid-1970s, married and with children, I was an editor in New York City who vacationed in the summer at Newport, Rhode Island, where metaphors for the sublime were not hard to come by. As the days of sail gave way to the age of steam, Newport had become one of the first points on the American map at which oceanfront property was seen to be desirable, the value added by the nineteenth century’s fishing out from the mighty ocean the existence of seaside resorts like the one described by Charles Dickens in 1851 as a quiet beach that “becomes indeed a blessed spot” with fancy shops, bric-a-brac, picturesque fishermen. “We have a fine sea, wholesome for all people; profitable for the body, profitable for the mind.”

Certainly so it seemed during the years when I was content to watch children build sandcastles on the shore of Narragansett Bay, to make the hard choices between the smoked salmon and the broiled lobster, to wonder whether the pretty sailboats in the offing were setting course for Martha’s Vineyard or Kennebunkport. During those same years, in my capacity as a magazine editor in search of intrepid investigations, I sent writers on voyages that I was no longer at liberty to undertake -- to the Galapagos Islands and Australia’s Great Barrier Reef, to the Gulf of Alaska, the northwest Mediterranean. In place of storybook romance, they returned with reports of missing whales and seabirds soaked in oil, of corals dead as stone, and shorelines blanketed in algal slime, but I was reluctant to draw apocalyptic conclusions.

Surely the sea was eternal, going on forever, its vast prodigious bulk 71% of the earth’s surface, not to be contained within the frame of history or chained to the oars of death and time. So it had been in the creation myths constructed in the languages of both art and science -- the Sumerian goddess Nammu giving birth to heaven and earth, Homer’s “Ocean, who is the source of all,” Christendom emerging with Noah from the Flood, evolutionary theory evolving from the primordial, undifferentiated flux. So I thought it still was, T. S. Eliot’s “groundswell, that is and was from the beginning,” right there where it was supposed to be every summer, in sun or fog, 20 yards over the horizon of the beach club’s beach umbrellas.

Except it wasn’t, and it isn’t. The poetics stand corrected by the science. Contrary to the belief that man cannot mark the sea with ruin, it turns out that he has been doing so for the last two thousand years. If I had been slow to acknowledge the unwelcome fact, I was in distinguished company. Henry David Thoreau in the 1850s did not “associate the idea of antiquity with the ocean, nor wonder how it looked a thousand years ago, as we do of the land, for it was equally wild and unfathomable always.”

Rachel Carson, the perceptive and far-seeing naturalist, in 1951 assured the readers of The Sea Around Us that mankind “cannot control or change the ocean as, in his brief tenancy on earth, he has subdued and plundered the continents.” She subsequently revised the opinion, remarking in one of her later notebooks, “Even in the vast and mysterious reaches of the sea we are brought back to the fundamental truth that nothing lives to itself.”

By the turn of the millennium, I understood that the melting of the Arctic ice was warming the temperatures in the sea, that fish stocks were declining, that large sectors of the ocean were awash in nonbiodegradable refuse -- cathode-ray tubes, traffic cones, and polypropylene fishing nets -- but I didn’t fully grasp the connection between marine ecosystem and human settlement until January 2013, when I came across W. Jeffrey Bolster’s book The Mortal Sea.

Bolster derives the title and its assertion from an extended history of the fisheries in the North American Atlantic between Cape Cod and Newfoundland. To the by-now-familiar story of the various depletions of species over the last 500 years (the haddock by 1930, the cod by 1992), Bolster, a professor of history at the University of New Hampshire, adds the dimension of events taking place on land -- political and economic, cultural and demographic. Drawing together in the same net the two sets of datapoints (from the human maritime community and the marine-biological community), Bolster shows the ocean to be subject not only to the changes occurring over the course of evolutionary and geological time, but also, and ever more rapidly, to those imposed on it by the hand and mind of man.

We needn’t call upon an angry god to make the sea an object of no small terror. Every year we withdraw from it 160 million tons of fish, deposit in it 7 million tons of garbage. Poisonous chemicals in the Gulf of Mexico have formed a pool of dead water equivalent in size to the state of New Jersey; among the several hundred dead zones elsewhere in the world, one encircles the Chinese coastline.

If the sea levels continue to rise at their current rate, the day is not far off when Miami and Atlantic City become beds for oysters. The fishing in the sea that was once near the surface now is done by trawls the length of locomotives dropped to the depth of a mile and dragged across the bottom, reducing many thousands of square miles of the ocean floor to barren deserts no longer giving birth to the tiny organisms from which emerge the great chains of being that sustain the life of the planet.

Nothing in the sea lives by itself, nothing either on the earth or in the air or in the minds of men. To know the sea is mortal is to know that we are not apart from it. Man is nature creatively refashioning itself. The abyss is human, not divine, a work in progress, whether made with a poet’s metaphor or with a vast prodigious bulk of Styrofoam.


Lewis H. Lapham is editor of Lapham’s Quarterly and a TomDispatch regular. Formerly editor of Harper’s Magazine, he is the author of numerous books, including Money and Class in America, Theater of War, Gag Rule, and, most recently, Pretensions to Empire. The New York Times has likened him to H.L. Mencken; Vanity Fair has suggested a strong resemblance to Mark Twain; and Tom Wolfe has compared him to Montaigne. This essay, slightly adapted for TomDispatch, introduces "The Sea," the Summer 2013 issue of Lapham’s Quarterly, soon to be released at that website.

Follow TomDispatch on Twitter and join us on Facebook or Tumblr. Check out the newest Dispatch book, Nick Turse’s The Changing Face of Empire: Special Ops, Drones, Proxy Fighters, Secret Bases, and Cyberwarfare.

Copyright 2013 Lewis Lapham

Gorilla Radio with Chris Cook, Zoe Blunt, David Swanson, Janine Bandcroft June 3, 2013

This Week on GR

by C. L. Cook

Well, heeeee's baaack! With the vengeful whine of chainsaws, and the awe-inspiring thunder in the woods accompanying orchestrated clearcut operations, Ender Ilkay, frustrated West Van. wildland developer, the same who once promised hundreds of luxurious "cabin" abodes abutting the Juan de Fuca Provincial Park just west of Sooke, is returned like an ancient day prophesy of pestilence to come, fulfilling his promise to clearcut what he was forbidden to pave.

For the record; Ender says he's sorry to see it, but that's the way it goes. And, he promises more clearcut logging to come.

Listen. Hear.

Zoe Blunt is a long-time South Island-based environmental defender and activist/organizer. Zoe's past campaigns with Wild Coast, VicFAN and other organized manifestations include: an attempt to forestall the so-called Bear Mountain development, (a failed effort that culminated spectacularly in a massive SWAT team assault on three tree-sitters at the site of the long-derelict but soon-to-be-revived Spencer Road overpass); the successful turn-around of mega-developer at large, Ender Ilkay's Marine Trail Resort; conducting activist and non-violent resistance workshops; and participation with the Caravan to Wet-suwet-'en, an annual congregation at the planned site of the pipeline confluence for the controversial Pacific Trail Pipeline project. Blunt was also instrumental in convincing VanCity's ethical investments arm to disinvest itself of Enbridge-related investment vehicles.

Zoe Blunt has appeared on this show many times over the years, and joins us again in the first segment.

And; he's waited in custody, sometimes under appalling conditions, for more than three years, but Private Bradley Manning's espionage and aiding the enemy trial began finally Monday at Fort Meade, Maryland. Manning has already admitted to being the source of hundreds of thousands of files released to Wikileaks. The Manning case has sparked protest around the world, and while some consider Bradley a hero comparable to Daniel Ellsberg, the man who leaked the Pentagon Papers during America's war against Vietnam, others condemn him as a traitor who put his comrades in arms in harm's way.

David Swanson is an activist, organizer, prolific essayist, journalist, broadcaster, and author whose book titles include: 'The Military Industrial Complex at 50,' 'When the World Outlawed War,' and 'War Is a Lie' among others. He's the host of Talk Nation Radio, and blogs from DavidSwanson.org and WarIsACrime.org.

David Swanson and Bradley Manning's, sort of, day in court in the second half.

And; Victoria Street Newz publisher and CFUV Radio broadcaster, Janine Bandcroft will be here at the bottom of the hour to bring us up to speed with some of what's good to do in and around the capital city, and beyond. But first, Zoe Blunt and the Ender of days in the woods near Juan de Fuca Provincial Park.

Chris Cook hosts Gorilla Radio, airing live every Monday, 5-6pm Pacific Time. In Victoria at 101.9FM, and on the internet at: http://cfuv.uvic.ca.  He also serves as a contributing editor to the web news site, http://www.pacificfreepress.com. Check out the GR blog at: http://gorillaradioblog.blogspot.ca/
G-Radio is dedicated to social justice, the environment, community, and providing a forum for people and issues not covered in the corporate media.

Meet Neighbour Ender Ilkay: Clearcutting Juan de Fuca to the Max

Clearcut Tour of Juan de Fuca Provincial Park

by Zoe Blunt - Wild Coast.ca

Developer Ender Ilkay lost his bid to build hundreds of vacation homes and miles of paved roads on the boundary of Juan de Fuca Provincial Park between China Beach and Sombrio Beach.

photo: Janine Bandcroft

Now he's out for whatever he can get, including clearcutting the forest. Join us to view, photograph, and document the damage. We still need to fight to protect this land.

More info: http://www.sookenewsmirror.com/news/208382541.html and http://wildcoast.ca/Clearcut Tour of Juan de Fuca Provincial Park

Canadian Democracy Loses - Court Rules: Yes, Election Rigged and Yes, There Is No Remedy


Breaking: major announcements on election fraud 

by Council of Canadians

May 31, 2013

I'm writing you with breaking news. At this very moment, the Council of Canadians and Peggy Walsh Craig, one of the eight individual voters who came forward to challenge election fraud head-on, are in Ottawa addressing media from across the country to make two major announcements.

It's only been a week since Federal Court Justice Richard Mosley ruled conclusively that "electoral fraud occurred during the 41st General Election."

Justice Mosley found that:
  • An unprecedented, covert and widespread campaign of voter suppression was perpetrated on Canadian voters in the 2011 federal election.
  • Canadians who indicated they would not be voting for the Conservative Party of Canada (CPC) were specifically targeted.
  • The most likely source of the data used to perpetrate this fraud was the CPC's own database.
"I feel vindicated by the ruling," Peggy said this morning. "In fact, we now know the fraud was much larger than anyone knew. Tens of thousands of Canadians received calls like I received, misdirecting them to the wrong polling locations, and that many Canadians had their votes stolen in the process."

In light of this, today's first major announcement is that Peggy and her fellow applicants will not appeal to the Supreme Court of Canada. 
"You only appeal when you lose. We feel that we have taken this case as far as it can go. And we want to thank the Council of Canadians and the thousands of individual donors across the country who helped us pursue, and ultimately expose, election fraud."

While serious questions remain unanswered, namely who accessed the CPC's database to commit the fraud, a Supreme Court appeal will not deliver the remedy.

So the second major announcement this morning is that the Council of Canadians is stepping-up our pro-democracy campaign by now taking the fight to end election fraud to the steps of Parliament.

Today we're launching an urgent national petition calling on the Government of Canada to:

  • Immediately hold a public inquiry to find and bring to justice the person or persons responsible for accessing the CPC's database to perpetrate the election fraud; and
  • Swiftly table comprehensive electoral reform that protects Canadians from being victimized by election fraud again.

You've been a valued contributor to this crucial fight for democracy thusfar. Will you join us in taking this crucial next step? Please sign the petition right now. We're calling on all Canadians from across the country, across all political stripes and across generations to join in signing too.

Canadians are looking squarely at you, Prime Minister Harper, and expecting your government to be accountable and to take swift and meaningful action to end election fraud now.

This isn't over. Restoring our democracy has just begun.



Maude Barlow
National Chairperson