Professor Henry Srebrnik
Monday, July 16, 2012
Albania Has Come a Long Way This Decade
Henry Srebrnik, [Summerside, PEI] Journal-Pioneer
Paul Theroux’s The Pillars of Hercules: A Grand Tour of the Mediterranean, published in 1995, is a wonderful glimpse into the political cultures of the peoples who inhabit its shores.
However, the small Balkan country of Albania, which had only a few years earlier emerged from almost five decades of ultra-Communist isolation, shocked him.
Desperate and ravaged Albania seemed worse than most third world countries. There was poverty and paranoia everywhere.
Albania was still recovering from the legacy of Enver Hoxha, the ruthless dictator who had ruled for 40 years, until his death in 1985.
Under Hoxha, Albania’s only friend, half a world away, was Maoist China, and even it abandoned Albania in the 1970s. Albania had been officially declared an atheist state, cut off from neighbouring Greece and Yugoslavia – both considered enemies. Hundreds of mosques and churches were destroyed. Hoxha had banned private automobiles because he didn’t want people leaving the country.
Hoxha was succeeded by Ramiz Alia, who tried to preserve the Communist system while introducing gradual reforms in order to revive the economy. But as the rest of eastern Europe threw off Communist rule, Albania followed.
In March 1992 a decisive electoral victory was won by the anti-Communist opposition, and Alia resigned as president.
The years that followed were, as Theroux observed, even worse. By 1997 the country was in the throes of outright rebellion, following the collapse of the economy in the wake of pyramid schemes and widespread corruption.
The severe social unrest led to more than 1,500 deaths and the widespread destruction of property. Most Albanians lost what little savings they had and thousands emigrated.
A UN Multinational Protection Force, led by Italy, was sent to help restore law and order. But putting the country back on its feet would take time.
For the past decade, Albania has made it a point to integrate into the wider European economic, military and political space.
In 1998, Albania’s three million citizens ratified a new constitution, guaranteeing the rule of law and the protection of fundamental human rights and religious freedom. Today, the government is headed by Prime Minister Sali Berisha, whose Democratic Party won the most seats in the legislative elections in 2005 and 2009.
Albania is now a member of NATO, the Organization for Security and Co-operation in Europe, the Council of Europe, and the World Trade Organization. It formally applied for membership in the European Union in 2009.
Free market reforms, under the tutelage of the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank, have opened the country to foreign investment, especially in the development of energy and transportation infrastructure. Reforms in tax collection, property law, and business administration are also progressing.
With help from EU funds, the government is taking steps to improve the national road and rail network, a long-standing barrier to sustained economic growth. Even tourism now accounts for an increasing share of the economy.
Although Albania's economy continues to grow, the country does still remain one of the poorest in Europe.
Wednesday, July 04, 2012
Will Israel Turn to Russia?
Henry Srebrnik, [Charlottetown, PEI] Guardian
Is it too far-fetched to imagine an Israeli-Russian alliance some day?
If one were to take seriously political scientist Samuel Huntington’s famous “clash of civilizations” theory of international relations -- that people’s cultural and religious identities will be the primary source of conflict in the 21st century -- then clearly, given how Israel is surrounded by a mostly hostile Islamic world, its “natural” allies would be those countries whose national interests also collide with the Muslim world.
One of these might be Russia.
Mainly Orthodox Christian in religion, Russia lies north of the Islamic civilization in the Caucasus and central Asia. It has already retreated from the five Muslim states of Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, Turkmenistan, and Uzbekistan following the collapse of the Soviet Union.
Russia has fought two bloody wars to maintain control of Chechnya. Terrorism remains a constant there and in neighbouring Dagestan and Ingushetia.
Since the 1960s, Israel’s main ally has been the United States. But geopolitically the U.S. is far away from the Middle East and has fewer fundamental disputes with the Muslim world.
Israel can’t depend forever on an America that wouldn’t suffer politically, and indeed might gain, by abandoning it -- whereas Russia, even if it didn’t really care about Israel, is in the same political boat with it.
So it is interesting to observe that Russian President Vladimir Putin visited Israel toward the end of June. (President Barack Obama has yet to visit Israel.)
Iran’s nuclear program, Syria’s civil war, and the Muslim Brotherhood victory in Egypt’s presidential election were topics of discussion.
Zvi Magen, a former Israeli ambassador to Russia, told the BBC that President Putin fears the events of the Arab Spring “might inspire similar developments in Russia’s soft belly -- the Caucasus.”
Russia is also interested in helping Israel develop its natural gas fields in the Mediterranean and in tapping into an emerging alliance being developed between Israel, Greece and the Greek Cypriots to offset tensions with Turkey.
Putin told his hosts that the two countries have deep economic and cultural relations bolstered by the more than one million Jewish immigrants from the former Soviet Union who live in Israel. Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s cabinet has several Russian speakers, including Foreign Minister Avigdor Lieberman.
Putin said that he felt he was “among friends,” adding that the ties between Israel and Russia were ones of “deep friendship, not something that will pass, and that will endure in the future.”
Putin attended the inauguration in Netanya of a new monument commemorating Red Army soldiers who fought against Nazi Germany in the Second World War. For the Russian soldiers who liberated the Nazi concentration camps, Israeli President Shimon Peres told Putin, “the Jewish people owe a historical ‘thank you’ to the Russians.”
Is it possible we might be witnessing the beginnings of an informal entente?
Is it too far-fetched to imagine an Israeli-Russian alliance some day?
If one were to take seriously political scientist Samuel Huntington’s famous “clash of civilizations” theory of international relations -- that people’s cultural and religious identities will be the primary source of conflict in the 21st century -- then clearly, given how Israel is surrounded by a mostly hostile Islamic world, its “natural” allies would be those countries whose national interests also collide with the Muslim world.
One of these might be Russia.
Mainly Orthodox Christian in religion, Russia lies north of the Islamic civilization in the Caucasus and central Asia. It has already retreated from the five Muslim states of Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, Turkmenistan, and Uzbekistan following the collapse of the Soviet Union.
Russia has fought two bloody wars to maintain control of Chechnya. Terrorism remains a constant there and in neighbouring Dagestan and Ingushetia.
Since the 1960s, Israel’s main ally has been the United States. But geopolitically the U.S. is far away from the Middle East and has fewer fundamental disputes with the Muslim world.
Israel can’t depend forever on an America that wouldn’t suffer politically, and indeed might gain, by abandoning it -- whereas Russia, even if it didn’t really care about Israel, is in the same political boat with it.
So it is interesting to observe that Russian President Vladimir Putin visited Israel toward the end of June. (President Barack Obama has yet to visit Israel.)
Iran’s nuclear program, Syria’s civil war, and the Muslim Brotherhood victory in Egypt’s presidential election were topics of discussion.
Zvi Magen, a former Israeli ambassador to Russia, told the BBC that President Putin fears the events of the Arab Spring “might inspire similar developments in Russia’s soft belly -- the Caucasus.”
Russia is also interested in helping Israel develop its natural gas fields in the Mediterranean and in tapping into an emerging alliance being developed between Israel, Greece and the Greek Cypriots to offset tensions with Turkey.
Putin told his hosts that the two countries have deep economic and cultural relations bolstered by the more than one million Jewish immigrants from the former Soviet Union who live in Israel. Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s cabinet has several Russian speakers, including Foreign Minister Avigdor Lieberman.
Putin said that he felt he was “among friends,” adding that the ties between Israel and Russia were ones of “deep friendship, not something that will pass, and that will endure in the future.”
Putin attended the inauguration in Netanya of a new monument commemorating Red Army soldiers who fought against Nazi Germany in the Second World War. For the Russian soldiers who liberated the Nazi concentration camps, Israeli President Shimon Peres told Putin, “the Jewish people owe a historical ‘thank you’ to the Russians.”
Is it possible we might be witnessing the beginnings of an informal entente?
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Does Rejection of Israel in the Muslim World Have Religious Roots?
Henry Srebrnik, [Toronto] Jewish Tribune
There are so many ways in which Israel’s relationship with its Arab citizens differs from the way the former apartheid regimes in South Africa and the old Rhodesia treated non-whites that I won’t repeat them here. Readers of the Jewish Tribune are already aware of these.
But there is another fundamental difference, one often overlooked, which makes Arab antagonism in the Middle East towards the Jewish state quite different from the interaction between native African peoples and white settlers in southern Africa during the age of European imperialism. And that is the role of religion.
The peoples in southern Africa had no animosity towards, indeed didn’t even know the existence of, the various Europeans who arrived in their homelands and eventually came to dominate them. There was, by definition, no theological animus towards European whites in the belief structures of the Shona, Ndebele, Tswana, Xhosa, Zulu and other peoples in the region.
And when most of these ethnic groups became Christians of one denomination or another, they then shared a common faith with the conquerors, one which could be used to shame those who had subjugated them.
So the struggle that eventually resulted in freedom from white minority rule was a political one. It was, basically, a fight against inexcusable racial discrimination and oppression.
But it was a very different matter when Jews began to resettle and eventually create a state in their ancient homeland.
Starting with some of the verses in the Koran and the hadith (the deeds and sayings attributed to the prophet Muhammad), there was already a centuries-old tradition of treating Jews in a subservient, even derogatory manner, by a triumphalist Islam, the faith that had supplanted Jewish (and later Christian) sovereignty in the Middle East.
During Muhammad’s life, Jews lived in the Arabian peninsula, especially in and around Medina, and interacted with the peoples who had accepted the new faith. But as was the case centuries earlier in regards to Christianity, most Jews did not convert to Islam.
So, while Jews were acknowledged as People of the Book by Muslims, and were better off than their coreligionists in the far more anti-Judaic Christian lands, they were considered dhimmis – second-class people – and subject to a host of humiliating laws and restrictions.
At various times and in various places, the restrictions on Jews included payment of higher taxes; being forced to wear clothing distinguishing them from Muslims; and being barred from holding public office, bearing arms or riding a horse. Jews could be prevented from repairing existing or erecting new places of worship (and no synagogue could stand taller than a mosque). Of course proselytizing on behalf of any faith but Islam was barred.
When they met on board an American ship in the Suez Canal in February 1945, Saudi Arabia’s King Abdul-Aziz ibn Saud, ruler of the region’s most fundamentalist Arab state, told US President Franklin Roosevelt that he was “unwilling to have any dealings with Infidels, not to say Jews.”
Imagine then, the anger among those who had always considered themselves superior to Jews, to find the tables suddenly turned, and a people who used to “know their place” in the religious universe of the Middle East now had the chutzpah to re-establish a state in Palestine, right in the centre of the Arab world.
This has not been an easy pill to swallow, since it calls in question a centuries-old worldview regarding Jews. We still don’t know whether this will remain a bedrock religious problem that, today, prevents much of the Islamic world from recognizing Israel, regardless of its borders or policies.
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Was The War of 1812 An American Religious Crusade?
Henry Srebrnik, [Charlottetown, PEI] Guardian
This month we commemorate the two hundredth anniversary of the start of the War of 1812. The conflict began on June 18, when President James Madison formally declared war on Great Britain.
Madison told Americans that he was committing the new republic “into the hands of the Almighty Disposer of Events” and announced that Aug. 20 would be a national fast day of thanksgiving and prayer.
Two centuries ago, the new United States, born out of a revolution against royalty and Catholic “Papism,” was a devoutly, even fanatically, Protestant country. And this shaped its foreign policy decisions, including the waging of war.
So contends historian Andrew Preston, in his magnificent book Sword of the Spirit, Shield of Faith: Religion in American War and Diplomacy.
It documents the way Protestantism, in particular the Calvinist theology of an elect people chosen by God to better mankind, propelled the British settlers in the North American colonies in their wars against the French and Spanish empires throughout the 17th and 18th centuries, and later against the mother country itself.
This was particularly the case in New England, founded by Puritan dissenters who were not only fiercely anti-Catholic, but also looked askance at the established Church of England and rule by a British monarch.
Catholicism, they asserted, “was an inherently authoritarian system that created political despotism wherever it predominated.”
When the hated French were finally defeated and forced to relinquish the colony of New France in the Treaty of Paris in 1763, it was for the New England colonists a sign of “divine providence.”
But they were sorely disappointed when the Royal Proclamation of 1763 created a boundary line between the British colonies on the Atlantic coast and aboriginal territories west of the Appalachians. Britain hoped in this way to gain the loyalty of native nations. Most had been French allies.
And the American colonists felt further betrayed by the mother country when the French inhabitants of Quebec were allowed to retain their language and Catholic religion after the Quebec Act was passed by the British Parliament in 1774. This was viewed as an affront to the Protestant faith.
Not only that, but the boundaries of Quebec were expanded to include land that is now southern Ontario and a huge portion of what is now the American Midwest, further blocking westward expansion by the American colonies.
It took just two more years for these, and other frustrations, to come to a head; the Declaration of Independence was signed on July 4, 1776. America, the “city on a hill,” would be a beacon of liberty.
The victorious colonists who founded the new United States of America gained control over almost all the lands east of the Mississippi River and westward expansion, part of the “manifest destiny” of the United States, was underway.
The new nation, though, felt there was still unfinished business between itself and Great Britain. Americans were encountering strong resistance from native peoples in their push westward, and believed that the British were encouraging Indian opposition. As well, there was still the matter of a Catholic Quebec, whose inhabitants continued to live in darkness, oppressed by a church that many in the United States continued to view as the “Antichrist.”
So, though many Americans were opposed to war with Great Britain, others, particularly in the newly settled states, wished to “liberate” the remainder of British North America-- and also end native opposition.
The final straw was the British Navy’s boarding of American ships to forcibly enlist any sailors of British origin and its attempts to prevent the United States from trading with Napoleon’s France, at the time the master of Europe.
(The U.S. remained neutral in that European conflict.)
An American army under General William Hull invaded Upper Canada on July 12. “You will be emancipated from Tyranny and oppression and restored to the dignified status of freemen,” he proclaimed. But Hull was surprised by the resistance he encountered. The United Empire Loyalists, who had fought for the Crown during the American Revolutionary War, opposed the American invasion.
As for Lower Canada, the French inhabitants found the anti-Catholic stance of the United States threatening. They feared that an American conquest would force Protestantism and Anglicization on them; attempts to capture Montreal failed.
Concerned about American westward expansion and encroachment onto Indian lands, most aboriginal peoples also supported the British, in the hope that a British victory would assure the Indians of possession of their lands.
The Shawnee leader Tecumseh had created a native confederacy, which fought on the British side and was a key factor in many of the British successes. But he was killed in battle and the dream of a sovereign native nation never came to pass.
“If God be for us, who can stand against us?” asked one American preacher. However, though a Vermont newspaper insisted that Americans had fought “a holy war, for the Lord has fought for us in battles, and given us the victories,” in actual fact the conflict ended inconclusively in 1814.
The United States had been unable to conquer the remaining British colonies in North America. Five decades later, these would be united in a new Dominion of Canada.
This month we commemorate the two hundredth anniversary of the start of the War of 1812. The conflict began on June 18, when President James Madison formally declared war on Great Britain.
Madison told Americans that he was committing the new republic “into the hands of the Almighty Disposer of Events” and announced that Aug. 20 would be a national fast day of thanksgiving and prayer.
Two centuries ago, the new United States, born out of a revolution against royalty and Catholic “Papism,” was a devoutly, even fanatically, Protestant country. And this shaped its foreign policy decisions, including the waging of war.
So contends historian Andrew Preston, in his magnificent book Sword of the Spirit, Shield of Faith: Religion in American War and Diplomacy.
It documents the way Protestantism, in particular the Calvinist theology of an elect people chosen by God to better mankind, propelled the British settlers in the North American colonies in their wars against the French and Spanish empires throughout the 17th and 18th centuries, and later against the mother country itself.
This was particularly the case in New England, founded by Puritan dissenters who were not only fiercely anti-Catholic, but also looked askance at the established Church of England and rule by a British monarch.
Catholicism, they asserted, “was an inherently authoritarian system that created political despotism wherever it predominated.”
When the hated French were finally defeated and forced to relinquish the colony of New France in the Treaty of Paris in 1763, it was for the New England colonists a sign of “divine providence.”
But they were sorely disappointed when the Royal Proclamation of 1763 created a boundary line between the British colonies on the Atlantic coast and aboriginal territories west of the Appalachians. Britain hoped in this way to gain the loyalty of native nations. Most had been French allies.
And the American colonists felt further betrayed by the mother country when the French inhabitants of Quebec were allowed to retain their language and Catholic religion after the Quebec Act was passed by the British Parliament in 1774. This was viewed as an affront to the Protestant faith.
Not only that, but the boundaries of Quebec were expanded to include land that is now southern Ontario and a huge portion of what is now the American Midwest, further blocking westward expansion by the American colonies.
It took just two more years for these, and other frustrations, to come to a head; the Declaration of Independence was signed on July 4, 1776. America, the “city on a hill,” would be a beacon of liberty.
The victorious colonists who founded the new United States of America gained control over almost all the lands east of the Mississippi River and westward expansion, part of the “manifest destiny” of the United States, was underway.
The new nation, though, felt there was still unfinished business between itself and Great Britain. Americans were encountering strong resistance from native peoples in their push westward, and believed that the British were encouraging Indian opposition. As well, there was still the matter of a Catholic Quebec, whose inhabitants continued to live in darkness, oppressed by a church that many in the United States continued to view as the “Antichrist.”
So, though many Americans were opposed to war with Great Britain, others, particularly in the newly settled states, wished to “liberate” the remainder of British North America-- and also end native opposition.
The final straw was the British Navy’s boarding of American ships to forcibly enlist any sailors of British origin and its attempts to prevent the United States from trading with Napoleon’s France, at the time the master of Europe.
(The U.S. remained neutral in that European conflict.)
An American army under General William Hull invaded Upper Canada on July 12. “You will be emancipated from Tyranny and oppression and restored to the dignified status of freemen,” he proclaimed. But Hull was surprised by the resistance he encountered. The United Empire Loyalists, who had fought for the Crown during the American Revolutionary War, opposed the American invasion.
As for Lower Canada, the French inhabitants found the anti-Catholic stance of the United States threatening. They feared that an American conquest would force Protestantism and Anglicization on them; attempts to capture Montreal failed.
Concerned about American westward expansion and encroachment onto Indian lands, most aboriginal peoples also supported the British, in the hope that a British victory would assure the Indians of possession of their lands.
The Shawnee leader Tecumseh had created a native confederacy, which fought on the British side and was a key factor in many of the British successes. But he was killed in battle and the dream of a sovereign native nation never came to pass.
“If God be for us, who can stand against us?” asked one American preacher. However, though a Vermont newspaper insisted that Americans had fought “a holy war, for the Lord has fought for us in battles, and given us the victories,” in actual fact the conflict ended inconclusively in 1814.
The United States had been unable to conquer the remaining British colonies in North America. Five decades later, these would be united in a new Dominion of Canada.
Saturday, June 09, 2012
A Tale of Two Provincial Identities
Henry Srebrnik, [Summerside, PEI] Journal Pioneer
The book Banal Nationalism by Michael Billig, published in 1995, calls attention to the “everyday representations of the nation which build an imagined sense of national solidarity and belonging.” It asks us to look for our sense of identity in mundane as well as big events.
So let’s compare two sets of people angry with their provincial governments. In Quebec, as everyone knows, students and their supporters have been demonstrating in Montreal for weeks, protesting about a government decision to raise fees for college and university students.
On Prince Edward Island, there has been dissatisfaction with many recent decisions by the provincial government, with a number of protests taking place in front of the legislature in Charlottetown recently.
A rally against plans to implement a harmonized sales tax, replacing the GST and provincial sales tax, brought out a crowd the evening of June 7. The Charlottetown Guardian of June 8 printed a large front page picture of the event.
I counted 13 Canadian Maple Leaf flags being held by protestors in the photo, and only two provincial ones, even though this is a provincial, not federal, issue. Undoubtedly there were many more.
On the other hand, I have read in various accounts that the Québécois marchers have carried aloft, along with various banners and placards, numerous Quebec fleur-de-lys flags – but apparently no Canadian ones. (If there were any, they’ve certainly been overshadowed.)
Former premier Jacques Parizeau, who led the separatist Parti Québécois from 1988 to 1996, chortled that this demonstrates that Québécois know where their primary loyalty lies. (Virtually all the striking students are enrolled in francophone institutions.)
“It’s absolutely fascinating because I’d never seen this before where over 200,000 people could demonstrate in Quebec without waving a single Canadian flag,” Parizeau told a pro-sovereignty meeting late last month. “These demonstrations have certainly settled the issue of Quebec’s identity.” Is he right?
Tuesday, June 05, 2012
The Old and New Lefts in America
Henry Srebrnik, [Summerside, PEI] Journal Pioneer
This past May, I attended a conference on “Jews and the Left” held at the YIVO Institute for Jewish Research in New York. It dealt with Jews in both the old and new lefts of the 20th century, and the role of Jewish women in these movements.
A few days later, I took in the play “4000 Miles,” by Amy Herzog, at the Lincoln Centre. It’s the story of the 91-year-old widow of a once-celebrated Communist writer and activist and her 21-year-old grandson, whose life has been shaped by post-1960s culture.
All of this got me thinking about the political link between the two left-wing movements. The so-called “Old Left” was led by the Communist Party (CPUSA) and that organization almost collapsed after 1956, when its members learned, to their sorrow, that the Soviet state they had been worshipping for decades was, under Joseph Stalin, actually a murderous tyranny.
The political space the Communists left behind would, within a few years, be filled by a less dogmatic “New Left,” led by student radicals in groups like SDS, the Students for a Democratic Society, founded just four years later.
But the two are more of a seamless web than many people realize, despite the fact that the newer radical movement showed disdain for the hide-bound old Communists.
The connecting thread is the Jews of New York.
In 1939, according to Professor Harvey Klehr of Emory University, some 40% of the 39,000 CPUSA members were Jewish, and concentrated in big cities, New York in particular. Half of the party’s cultural apparatus, centred in New York, was Jewish, added Tony Michels of the University of Wisconsin.
When Henry Wallace he ran for president on the Communist-inspired Progressive Party ticket in 1948, about one third of his vote came from Jews.
The Communist Party collapsed in the 1950s, and by 1960 had just 3,000 members. But the children of Jewish Communists, so called “red diaper babies,” would fill the ranks of the leadership of the New Left.
People like Mark Rudd, who led a student revolt at Columbia University in 1968, were typical.
Of the 59 individuals who gathered in Port Huron, Michigan in June 1962 to issue the SDS Port Huron Statement, the most influential manifesto that ever came from the student left, between one-third to one-half were Jews, according to Columbia University professor Todd Gitlin, a former president of SDS.
We can see how the one movement morphed into the other by looking at two seminal cultural events: the Peekskill riots of 1949 and the iconic Woodstock music festival twenty years later.
The catalyst for the Peekskill rioting was an announced concert by African-American singer Paul Robeson, known for his Communist affiliations. The concert, organized as a benefit for the Civil Rights Congress, a Communist directed group, was scheduled to take place on August 27 just north of Peekskill, NY.
Before Robeson arrived, a mob of locals attacked concert-goers with baseball bats and rocks. The local police arrived hours later and did little to intervene. Thirteen people were seriously injured, Robeson was lynched in effigy and a cross was seen burning on an adjacent hillside.
Many of those who came were Jews in various Communist-front organizations. This was the era of McCarthyism and the Communist Party was on the defensive.
There was yet more violence when the concert was rescheduled a week later. Even police and New York state troopers were caught on film joining in the beatings of concert goers.
Fast forward 20 years to August 15-18, 1969 and the height of the counter-culture. The Woodstock Festival, like the Peekskill concert, was held outside New York, in the Catskills, long a Jewish vacation area. (In the 1940s, many of the resorts were frequented by the same left-wing Jews who were at Peekskill.)
The venue where it took place was owned by Max Yasgur, a Jewish farmer born in New York City, whose parents were East European Jewish immigrants. Most of his non-Jewish neighbors opposed the festival, but unlike in 1949 at Peekskill, there was no violence.
And the folk-song movement, exemplified by people like Bob Dylan, who for a time lived in the town of Woodstock, also straddled the line between old and new left.
So there was more of a Jewish connection to Woodstock than people remember. It too had a Jewish flavour; many of the singers and groups were Jews.
The amorphous New Left, with its music and literature, had penetrated more deeply into the American mainstream than its predecessor. After all, it was not bound to the Soviet Union and had no need to apologize for that country’s misdeeds.
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Montreal Then and Now
Henry Srebrnik, [Summerside, PEI] Journal-Pioneer
On Victoria Day weekend, I attended my 50th year high school reunion in Montreal. Outremont High had been an English-language Protestant school and, with the outflow of Anglophones from Quebec after the 1970s, it no longer exists.
It was amazing to see the 200 or so graduates who returned after five decades. We even toured the old school, now a French education centre.
The school had always been a first-rate institution, and most of us seem to have done quite well in life; many of us are academics, doctors, lawyers, business people, and other professionals. At least half are retired. Only about half still live in Montreal, the rest scattered in the rest of Canada, the United States and even Europe. And the children of those still living in the city are also mostly gone.
But things are not going that well for others in Quebec. A three-month-old student strike by college and university students against the Quebec government’s plan to raise tuition fees has almost brought the city to its knees.
Students in Quebec pay by far the lowest fees in the country and as a result Quebec’s institutions are underfunded compared with those elsewhere in North America. Currently, annual tuition is $2,168 – the lowest in North America. The increase would bring tuition to $3,946 by 2019.
The additional sum the students were being asked to pay was just a small percentage of what the government itself pays for higher education. Yet this was met with massive opposition.
There have been nightly marches and demonstrations, and in some cases students opposed to the strike were harassed and forced out of classrooms by militants.
As well, in various neighbourhoods, people who support the students go outside and start banging saucepans and skillets every evening at eight o’clock. It can last anywhere from 15 minutes to an hour.
The campaign was inspired by the pot-banging protests that shook the dictatorship of Augusto Pinochet in Chile in the mid-1980s.
(In this and many other ways, Quebec has become more of a Latin or Mediterranean society than a North American one.)
In response, on May 19 Jean Charest’s governing Liberals brought in a law to bring the student strike to an end. As well, Montreal’s city council passed an anti-mask bylaw.
Bill 78 imposes fines of $25,000 up to $125,000 against student associations and unions. They could be charged if they do not stop their members from protesting within university and college grounds.
During a street demonstration, the organization that plans the protest will be penalized if individual protesters stray from the police-approved route or exceed the time limit imposed by authorities. Student associations and unions are also liable for any damage caused by other marchers during a demonstration.
Violence marked every night of the long Victoria Day weekend – we could hear it from our hotel on Sherbrooke Street -- and the first part of the week. The biggest demonstration yet drew 250,000 people on May 22, according to various estimates.
A day later, more than 500 people were arrested at another march, the 30th since the student protests began.
The march had been declared illegal by police the minute it was scheduled to start but was allowed to proceed for almost four hours before a line of Montreal riot police blocked part of Sherbrooke Street as the marchers approached. The arrests followed.
The student organizations have gone to court to try to get Bill 78 struck down. It continues to be flouted and some radicals have said that if talks fail they plan to disrupt various events planned for the summer tourist season. They predict a long, hot summer in Montreal.
On Victoria Day weekend, I attended my 50th year high school reunion in Montreal. Outremont High had been an English-language Protestant school and, with the outflow of Anglophones from Quebec after the 1970s, it no longer exists.
It was amazing to see the 200 or so graduates who returned after five decades. We even toured the old school, now a French education centre.
The school had always been a first-rate institution, and most of us seem to have done quite well in life; many of us are academics, doctors, lawyers, business people, and other professionals. At least half are retired. Only about half still live in Montreal, the rest scattered in the rest of Canada, the United States and even Europe. And the children of those still living in the city are also mostly gone.
But things are not going that well for others in Quebec. A three-month-old student strike by college and university students against the Quebec government’s plan to raise tuition fees has almost brought the city to its knees.
Students in Quebec pay by far the lowest fees in the country and as a result Quebec’s institutions are underfunded compared with those elsewhere in North America. Currently, annual tuition is $2,168 – the lowest in North America. The increase would bring tuition to $3,946 by 2019.
The additional sum the students were being asked to pay was just a small percentage of what the government itself pays for higher education. Yet this was met with massive opposition.
There have been nightly marches and demonstrations, and in some cases students opposed to the strike were harassed and forced out of classrooms by militants.
As well, in various neighbourhoods, people who support the students go outside and start banging saucepans and skillets every evening at eight o’clock. It can last anywhere from 15 minutes to an hour.
The campaign was inspired by the pot-banging protests that shook the dictatorship of Augusto Pinochet in Chile in the mid-1980s.
(In this and many other ways, Quebec has become more of a Latin or Mediterranean society than a North American one.)
In response, on May 19 Jean Charest’s governing Liberals brought in a law to bring the student strike to an end. As well, Montreal’s city council passed an anti-mask bylaw.
Bill 78 imposes fines of $25,000 up to $125,000 against student associations and unions. They could be charged if they do not stop their members from protesting within university and college grounds.
During a street demonstration, the organization that plans the protest will be penalized if individual protesters stray from the police-approved route or exceed the time limit imposed by authorities. Student associations and unions are also liable for any damage caused by other marchers during a demonstration.
Violence marked every night of the long Victoria Day weekend – we could hear it from our hotel on Sherbrooke Street -- and the first part of the week. The biggest demonstration yet drew 250,000 people on May 22, according to various estimates.
A day later, more than 500 people were arrested at another march, the 30th since the student protests began.
The march had been declared illegal by police the minute it was scheduled to start but was allowed to proceed for almost four hours before a line of Montreal riot police blocked part of Sherbrooke Street as the marchers approached. The arrests followed.
The student organizations have gone to court to try to get Bill 78 struck down. It continues to be flouted and some radicals have said that if talks fail they plan to disrupt various events planned for the summer tourist season. They predict a long, hot summer in Montreal.
Thursday, May 17, 2012
The Jews, Israel and the Left
Henry Srebrnik, [Toronto] Jewish Tribune
Though the topic was billed as Jews and the left, the conference held at the YIVO Institute for Jewish Research in New York earlier this month became most contentious when the 240 participants, from as far away as Chile, Israel and Lithuania, dealt with the animosity towards Israel on the part of the left worldwide.
Among the most heated arguments was the one between two political scientists, Yoav Peled of Tel Aviv University and Mitchell Cohen of Baruch College in New York.
Peled argued that the Zionist enterprise in Palestine fit the “colonialist thesis,” albeit it was an unusual case, because it did not have a “mother country” to support it. Great Britain, although committed by the Balfour Declaration to Jewish settlement in Palestine, soon proved an unreliable ally.
Still, asserted Peled, Jewish projects in the country after 1920 marginalized and impoverished the Palestinian Arab peasantry, as Jews bought up land from absentee landlords during the Mandatory period, and directly expropriated Arab land after 1948. Also, many institutions such as the kibbutz refused to employ Arab labour.
Peled was taken to task by Cohen when the Israeli academic maintained that the 1967 Six Day War was not a defensive one but one initiated by Israel. Cohen challenged this statement, referring to Egypt’s massing of troops in Sinai and closing the Straits of Tiran to Israeli shipping.
Cohen also asserted that parts of the left “have swallowed anti-Zionism” and have “a Zionist problem.” Many see Hamas and Hezbollah as part of the “progressive movements” in the world. There is now an overlap between antisemitism and anti-Zionism, as more and more antisemitic motifs appear in the left’s critique of Israel.
Professor Ronald Radosh, author of a book on Harry Truman and the founding of Israel, concurred. The current left-wing delegitimization of Israel is, he remarked, the new “antisemitism of fools.”
The left’s attacks on Israel (and on the United States) also stem from their antipathy to globalization and western hegemony, remarked Moishe Postone, professor of modern European history at the University of Chicago, in his presentation. So, in Europe, the anti-globalist left now sees Israel as a centre of global evil.
The conference also dealt with Jews in both the old and new lefts of the 20th century, and the role of Jewish women in these movements. Among the distinguished speakers were Harvey Klehr of Emory University, Antony Polonsky of Brandeis, Riv-Ellen Prell of the University of Minnesota, Paul Berman of New York University, Alice Kessler-Harris of Columbia, and Michael Walzer of Princeton.
The final keynote address was delivered by Ezra Mendelsohn, the distinguished scholar from the Institute of Contemporary Jewry at the Hebrew University.
He found it ironic that people on the left in the 1950s had believed that socialism had helped create Israel. “The kibbutzim and the Histadrut were thriving. Productive people were not exploiting others. The Arab minority was considered inconsequential.”
Yet now Israel is cast by the left as a nationalistic oppressor.
Henry Srebrnik, [Toronto] Jewish Tribune
Though the topic was billed as Jews and the left, the conference held at the YIVO Institute for Jewish Research in New York earlier this month became most contentious when the 240 participants, from as far away as Chile, Israel and Lithuania, dealt with the animosity towards Israel on the part of the left worldwide.
Among the most heated arguments was the one between two political scientists, Yoav Peled of Tel Aviv University and Mitchell Cohen of Baruch College in New York.
Peled argued that the Zionist enterprise in Palestine fit the “colonialist thesis,” albeit it was an unusual case, because it did not have a “mother country” to support it. Great Britain, although committed by the Balfour Declaration to Jewish settlement in Palestine, soon proved an unreliable ally.
Still, asserted Peled, Jewish projects in the country after 1920 marginalized and impoverished the Palestinian Arab peasantry, as Jews bought up land from absentee landlords during the Mandatory period, and directly expropriated Arab land after 1948. Also, many institutions such as the kibbutz refused to employ Arab labour.
Peled was taken to task by Cohen when the Israeli academic maintained that the 1967 Six Day War was not a defensive one but one initiated by Israel. Cohen challenged this statement, referring to Egypt’s massing of troops in Sinai and closing the Straits of Tiran to Israeli shipping.
Cohen also asserted that parts of the left “have swallowed anti-Zionism” and have “a Zionist problem.” Many see Hamas and Hezbollah as part of the “progressive movements” in the world. There is now an overlap between antisemitism and anti-Zionism, as more and more antisemitic motifs appear in the left’s critique of Israel.
Professor Ronald Radosh, author of a book on Harry Truman and the founding of Israel, concurred. The current left-wing delegitimization of Israel is, he remarked, the new “antisemitism of fools.”
The left’s attacks on Israel (and on the United States) also stem from their antipathy to globalization and western hegemony, remarked Moishe Postone, professor of modern European history at the University of Chicago, in his presentation. So, in Europe, the anti-globalist left now sees Israel as a centre of global evil.
The conference also dealt with Jews in both the old and new lefts of the 20th century, and the role of Jewish women in these movements. Among the distinguished speakers were Harvey Klehr of Emory University, Antony Polonsky of Brandeis, Riv-Ellen Prell of the University of Minnesota, Paul Berman of New York University, Alice Kessler-Harris of Columbia, and Michael Walzer of Princeton.
The final keynote address was delivered by Ezra Mendelsohn, the distinguished scholar from the Institute of Contemporary Jewry at the Hebrew University.
He found it ironic that people on the left in the 1950s had believed that socialism had helped create Israel. “The kibbutzim and the Histadrut were thriving. Productive people were not exploiting others. The Arab minority was considered inconsequential.”
Yet now Israel is cast by the left as a nationalistic oppressor.
Monday, April 30, 2012
The Dual Functions of a University Professor
The Dual Functions of a University Professor
Henry Srebrnik, [Charlottetown, PEI] Guardian
These are tough economic times, and universities share in the pain. The University of Prince Edward Island is going to learn to live with cuts to its provincial funding.
As usual, there will be those who feel that professors "don't work hard enough" and shouldn't complain.
But the "job description" of a professor is unlike that of any other occupation.
Let's say you're an accountant or a salesperson. Your work - most likely done at the place of business - is fairly structured and set down by the people who employ you.
If you work at other things on your own and "off the clock," this would probably have no bearing on how well you perform on the job. Indeed, some employers might look askance at this, feeling you were spending too much time or effort on other matters, instead of on behalf of the company that pays your salary.
But things are very different for an academic. Teaching and administrative tasks are, obviously, done at the "firm" - in this case, the university. There are set schedules for classroom time, office hours, and the various other duties involved in running your courses.
This part of the job is similar to that which one finds in other professions.
But there is an entire second aspect to the work, one which many outside academia are less aware of, and which may, in the long run, be even more important: research and scholarship.
Other than providing a venue, and sometimes, grant money, the university itself has little to do with this. It is done mostly outside the formal university structure.
Presenting papers at conferences, publishing scholarly articles and books, editing journals, reviewing books, refereeing proposals, and interacting in a myriad of ways with others in one's field (scholars who can be anywhere in the world): this is to a large extent up to the individual professor.
There are no set rules or structures in place and much of it is done elsewhere - sometimes thousands of miles away.
In this part of the job, you're in effect an independent operator. By the same token, so is your colleague down the hall. You may have no idea what he's working on.
Yet not only does this part of the job have a bearing on how professors are evaluated, for tenure or promotion, but it might, in the long run, be the most important, and long-lasting, part of our work.
No academic should minimize the important of teaching students and imparting to them the knowledge that we, and our colleagues elsewhere, have worked so hard to create.
But nonetheless, few people, 30 years from now, will remember what we did in the classroom. However, they might still be reading, and learning from, the articles and books we produced as academics. Our true legacy will be our research.
Henry Srebrnik, [Charlottetown, PEI] Guardian
These are tough economic times, and universities share in the pain. The University of Prince Edward Island is going to learn to live with cuts to its provincial funding.
As usual, there will be those who feel that professors "don't work hard enough" and shouldn't complain.
But the "job description" of a professor is unlike that of any other occupation.
Let's say you're an accountant or a salesperson. Your work - most likely done at the place of business - is fairly structured and set down by the people who employ you.
If you work at other things on your own and "off the clock," this would probably have no bearing on how well you perform on the job. Indeed, some employers might look askance at this, feeling you were spending too much time or effort on other matters, instead of on behalf of the company that pays your salary.
But things are very different for an academic. Teaching and administrative tasks are, obviously, done at the "firm" - in this case, the university. There are set schedules for classroom time, office hours, and the various other duties involved in running your courses.
This part of the job is similar to that which one finds in other professions.
But there is an entire second aspect to the work, one which many outside academia are less aware of, and which may, in the long run, be even more important: research and scholarship.
Other than providing a venue, and sometimes, grant money, the university itself has little to do with this. It is done mostly outside the formal university structure.
Presenting papers at conferences, publishing scholarly articles and books, editing journals, reviewing books, refereeing proposals, and interacting in a myriad of ways with others in one's field (scholars who can be anywhere in the world): this is to a large extent up to the individual professor.
There are no set rules or structures in place and much of it is done elsewhere - sometimes thousands of miles away.
In this part of the job, you're in effect an independent operator. By the same token, so is your colleague down the hall. You may have no idea what he's working on.
Yet not only does this part of the job have a bearing on how professors are evaluated, for tenure or promotion, but it might, in the long run, be the most important, and long-lasting, part of our work.
No academic should minimize the important of teaching students and imparting to them the knowledge that we, and our colleagues elsewhere, have worked so hard to create.
But nonetheless, few people, 30 years from now, will remember what we did in the classroom. However, they might still be reading, and learning from, the articles and books we produced as academics. Our true legacy will be our research.
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Why the Republican Adulation of Ronald Reagan?
Henry Srebrnik, [Charlottetown, PEI] Guardian
Not a day goes by without some aspiring conservative American politician calling himself an acolyte of Ronald Reagan. The 40th president of the United States has become an icon in the Republican Party.
It tells you how far the party has moved to the right ideologically. In the past six decades, there have been six Republican presidents: Dwight Eisenhower, Richard Nixon, Gerald Ford, Reagan, and the two Bushes. Yet few current Republican hopefuls running for office mention the other five.
Eisenhower, Ford and George H.W. Bush were too liberal by modern Republican standards, Nixon resigned in disgrace due to the Watergate scandal, and George W. Bush remains too “toxic,” thanks to the wars in the Middle East and the financial collapse of 2008.
Yet Reagan seems beyond criticism, a president who walked on water. To Republicans, he has become a secular saint.
Of course such adulation depends on political amnesia. I worked in the United States between 1982 and 1990, including four years as a journalist in Washington while Reagan was president, and I don’t recall him being idolized at the time.
Yes, Reagan helped end the Cold War. People still remember his 1983 speech referring to the Soviet Union as an “evil empire.” But what were his other foreign policy accomplishments? The record is, to say the least, mixed.
Take Lebanon: American forces had been sent there in September 1983 as part of a Multinational Force to help the Lebanese government during that country’s horrific civil war. On Oct. 23, 1983, truck bombs driven by suicide bombers attacked the U.S. Marine barracks in Beirut, killing 241 American servicemen. In early December, eight more U.S. Marines were killed.
At first, Reagan said the Marines would stay on. But as the civil war intensified, Reagan ordered the Marines to begin withdrawing from Lebanon; they were gone by Feb. 26, 1984. The American presence in Lebanon had accomplished very little.
Perhaps as a diversion, the president had also undertaken an invasion of the tiny Caribbean island nation of Grenada on Oct. 25, 1983, just two days following the debacle in Beirut. It was meant to overthrow a left-wing regime that, Washington feared, might become too friendly with Cuba, as well as, ostensibly, to protect American medical students enrolled at an island university. The action was criticised by the United Kingdom, Canada, and Trinidad and Tobago. The UN General Assembly condemned it as “a flagrant violation of international law.”
In April 1986 terrorists bombed the La Belle discotheque in Berlin. Two American soldiers were killed and more than 150 people were injured. Libya’s Moammar Gadhafi was blamed and the president authorized strikes against targets in Tripoli and Benghazi. Though Reagan at the time called Gadhafi “the mad dog of the Middle East,” no further action was taken against the Libyan dictator, who two years later would blow up Pan Am flight 103 over Lockerbie, Scotland, murdering a total of 270 people.
One could also blame Reagan for the current mess in Afghanistan. After the Soviets became embroiled in that country, Reagan was the one who sent billions of dollars in military aid to the mujahideen fighting the “godless Communists,” including Stinger surface-to-air missiles to shoot down aircraft.
The Soviets lost the war and left in 1989, but Reagan's “freedom fighters” would later morph into the Taliban, who eventually created one of the world's most repressive regimes -- plus providing a home for Osama bin Laden’s al-Qaida.
Regan’s greatest foreign policy disaster became known as the Iran-Contra affair. It almost led to his impeachment and also resulted in the Republican Party losing its majority in the U.S. Senate in November 1986.
It started in 1985, when the administration secretly began supplying weapons, including missiles, to Iran, in hopes of securing the release of hostages held by the Iranian-backed Hezbollah movement in Lebanon. On account of the Iran-Iraq war, restrictions on arms sales to Iran were in place at the time.
The illegal sales, using Israel as a go-between, were carried out by members of the National Security Council, including two National Security advisors, Robert McFarlane and John Poindexter, and Lt. Col. Oliver North, an NSC staff member.
At North’s suggestion, the millions of dollars received from the weapons sales were then sent, also contrary to U.S. law, to the right-wing “Contra” guerrillas fighting the pro-Cuban Sandinistas in Nicaragua.
The Lebanese magazine Ash-Shiraa in November 1986 exposed the weapons-for-hostages deal.
A special review board created to look into the matter found Reagan accountable for a lax managerial style and aloofness from policy detail.
Though it could not prove definitively that Reagan had known about the secret arms transfers and Contra support, Congress on Nov. 18th, 1987 stated that he bore “ultimate responsibility” for wrongdoing by his aides, and that his administration exhibited “secrecy, deception and disdain for the law.”
McFarlane, North, Poindexter, and Reagan’s defence secretary Caspar Weinberger, all faced criminal charges as a result of Iran-Contra. North and Poindexter later had their convictions quashed, while McFarlane and Weinberger were pardoned by George H.W. Bush.
North, for one, always insisted that Reagan “knew everything” about the arms-for-hostages scandal and lied about it.
This is not exactly the stuff of greatness, but for some reason, Reagan has become a larger-than-life figure among Republicans. His failures and foibles have been shoved down the memory hole.
Thursday, April 05, 2012
The Dismal History of Tropical Islands
Henry Srebrnik, [Summerside, PEI] Journal-Pioneer
Our image of tropical islands tends to emphasize their beauty and serenity. They are vacation destinations, often referred to as “paradises.”
If you’ve ever visited one of these lush places, you know how delightful they can be. Sun, surf and sand – who could ask for more?
But for centuries many of them were ruled by powerful European empires that turned them into brutal plantation economies, where sugar cane, coffee, tobacco, and other crops were produced by a workforce of slaves transported from Africa.
The Iberian kingdoms of Portugal and Spain were first off the mark to exploit slave labour on plantations. In 1425 Madeira, off the coast of Morocco, was colonised by the Portuguese and by mid-century it had become the largest single producer of sugar in the Western world.
By the sixteenth century almost all of the Atlantic Islands -- the Azores, the Canaries, the Cape Verde Islands, São Tomé, and Madeira -- experienced sugar booms.
Once Spanish explorers reached the Caribbean, to be followed later by the British, Danes, Dutch, and French, islands such as Barbados, Cuba, Curaçao, Hispaniola, Jamaica, Martinique, and Trinidad also became plantation colonies worked by African slave labour.
By the end of the eighteenth century, literally millions of Africans had crossed to the Atlantic and Caribbean Islands and to the Indian Ocean islands of Mauritius and Réunion, as well as to the mainland of the Americas. British–ruled Jamaica and French Saint-Domingue (now Haiti) on Hispaniola had become the largest slave societies in the West Indies.
For many Africans the starting point for this crossing was an offshore African island – a place that made escape impossible while awaiting transport to the New World. The French-owned island of Gorée, off the coast of Senegal, became such a transit point.
The Atlantic slave trade came to an end in the early part of the nineteenth century. Slavery itself was abolished in the British Empire in 1833, in Danish and French possessions in 1848, in Dutch colonies in 1863, and in Portuguese ones in 1869.
On Hispaniola, the French sugar colony of Saint-Domingue had won its freedom in a revolution that ended in 1804 and slaves in the Spanish part of the island (now the Dominican Republic) were also emancipated. Slavery was not abolished in the other Spanish islands until later: in Puerto Rico in 1873 and Cuba in 1886.
Off the eastern coast of Africa, the Indian Ocean islands of Unguja and Pemba, known collectively as Zanzibar, have an even more sinister past.
Ruled by an Arab dynasty from Oman on the Arabian Peninsula, Zanzibar was a slave entrepôt, where Africans from the interior of the continent were sold to buyers in North Africa and the Middle East. Merchants from Oman and India settled in Zanzibar to participate more directly. There was also an earlier Persian influence.
Captives who survived the long trek from the mainland were crammed into dhows bound for Zanzibar, and paraded for sale in the capital. The main island was East Africa’s main slave-trading port, and in the mid-19th century as many as 50,000 slaves were passing annually through its slave markets. Slaves also worked in the clove plantations on the island.
Zanzibar was, as journalist Ryszard Kapus'cin'ski described it in his 2001 book The Shadow of the Sun, “a sad, dark star.”
In 1890 Britain established a protectorate over Zanzibar and ended the slave trade. The British left in 1963 and local African revolutionaries soon thereafter overthrew the Sultan of Zanzibar and his mainly Arab government, killing thousands of Arabs and Indians.
Zanzibar is now an autonomous part of Tanzania, united with Tanganyika on the mainland.
Given their histories, these tropical islands have a complex mix of peoples, religions and cultures. For instance, in Robert Kaplan’s 2010 book Monsoon: The Indian Ocean and the Future of American Power, Zanzibar is seen as being “African, yet different from Africa. It is Arabian and Persian, yet different from Arabia and Persia; and Indian, yet different from India.”
Though often forgotten today, the former exploitation of these tropical islands and their unfortunate inhabitants remains a grim and violent page in world history.
Henry Srebrnik, [Summerside, PEI] Journal-Pioneer
Our image of tropical islands tends to emphasize their beauty and serenity. They are vacation destinations, often referred to as “paradises.”
If you’ve ever visited one of these lush places, you know how delightful they can be. Sun, surf and sand – who could ask for more?
But for centuries many of them were ruled by powerful European empires that turned them into brutal plantation economies, where sugar cane, coffee, tobacco, and other crops were produced by a workforce of slaves transported from Africa.
The Iberian kingdoms of Portugal and Spain were first off the mark to exploit slave labour on plantations. In 1425 Madeira, off the coast of Morocco, was colonised by the Portuguese and by mid-century it had become the largest single producer of sugar in the Western world.
By the sixteenth century almost all of the Atlantic Islands -- the Azores, the Canaries, the Cape Verde Islands, São Tomé, and Madeira -- experienced sugar booms.
Once Spanish explorers reached the Caribbean, to be followed later by the British, Danes, Dutch, and French, islands such as Barbados, Cuba, Curaçao, Hispaniola, Jamaica, Martinique, and Trinidad also became plantation colonies worked by African slave labour.
By the end of the eighteenth century, literally millions of Africans had crossed to the Atlantic and Caribbean Islands and to the Indian Ocean islands of Mauritius and Réunion, as well as to the mainland of the Americas. British–ruled Jamaica and French Saint-Domingue (now Haiti) on Hispaniola had become the largest slave societies in the West Indies.
For many Africans the starting point for this crossing was an offshore African island – a place that made escape impossible while awaiting transport to the New World. The French-owned island of Gorée, off the coast of Senegal, became such a transit point.
The Atlantic slave trade came to an end in the early part of the nineteenth century. Slavery itself was abolished in the British Empire in 1833, in Danish and French possessions in 1848, in Dutch colonies in 1863, and in Portuguese ones in 1869.
On Hispaniola, the French sugar colony of Saint-Domingue had won its freedom in a revolution that ended in 1804 and slaves in the Spanish part of the island (now the Dominican Republic) were also emancipated. Slavery was not abolished in the other Spanish islands until later: in Puerto Rico in 1873 and Cuba in 1886.
Off the eastern coast of Africa, the Indian Ocean islands of Unguja and Pemba, known collectively as Zanzibar, have an even more sinister past.
Ruled by an Arab dynasty from Oman on the Arabian Peninsula, Zanzibar was a slave entrepôt, where Africans from the interior of the continent were sold to buyers in North Africa and the Middle East. Merchants from Oman and India settled in Zanzibar to participate more directly. There was also an earlier Persian influence.
Captives who survived the long trek from the mainland were crammed into dhows bound for Zanzibar, and paraded for sale in the capital. The main island was East Africa’s main slave-trading port, and in the mid-19th century as many as 50,000 slaves were passing annually through its slave markets. Slaves also worked in the clove plantations on the island.
Zanzibar was, as journalist Ryszard Kapus'cin'ski described it in his 2001 book The Shadow of the Sun, “a sad, dark star.”
In 1890 Britain established a protectorate over Zanzibar and ended the slave trade. The British left in 1963 and local African revolutionaries soon thereafter overthrew the Sultan of Zanzibar and his mainly Arab government, killing thousands of Arabs and Indians.
Zanzibar is now an autonomous part of Tanzania, united with Tanganyika on the mainland.
Given their histories, these tropical islands have a complex mix of peoples, religions and cultures. For instance, in Robert Kaplan’s 2010 book Monsoon: The Indian Ocean and the Future of American Power, Zanzibar is seen as being “African, yet different from Africa. It is Arabian and Persian, yet different from Arabia and Persia; and Indian, yet different from India.”
Though often forgotten today, the former exploitation of these tropical islands and their unfortunate inhabitants remains a grim and violent page in world history.
Friday, March 30, 2012
Who Will Control the ‘World Island’?
Henry Srebrnik [Charlottetown, PEI] Guardian
In a seminal article, ‘The Geographical Pivot of History', published in 1904, the British geographer Sir Halford Mackinder, one of the prominent theoreticians of geopolitics, wrote that a country that gained control over the Eurasian heartland - what he referred to as the "pivot area" - would eventually gain hegemony over the entire globe.
Mackinder succinctly summarized his theory thus: "Who rules East Europe commands the Heartland; who rules the Heartland commands the World-Island; who rules the World-Island controls the world."
At the time, the vast and strategically important central regions of Asia were governed by the Russians in the north and the British further south.
The British had gained control over much of India by the end of the 18th century, and extinguished Muslim rule altogether when in 1857 they eliminated the Mughal Empire, which for more than three centuries had dominated most of the subcontinent.
Meanwhile, the Russian Empire had expanded into the Muslim regions of central Asia, inhabited mainly by Turkic peoples, in the mid-19th century.
Fabled centres of Islamic culture such as Samarkand and Tashkent fell to the Russians as the Emirate of Bukhara and the Khanates of Khiva and Kokand came under Russian suzerainty.
The British, fearful of Russian expansionism and seeking to protect their Indian empire, fought three wars in Afghanistan. The first war, from 1839 to 1842, led to a massive defeat of the British forces by Afghan warriors and a retreat back to India.
The Russians continued their advances in central Asia, prompting a second Anglo-Afghan war from 1878 to 1880, in which Britain gained assurances that the Russians would not be allowed to bring Afghanistan under its control. In 1887 Russia and Great Britain delineated the northern border of Afghanistan.
The final war, in 1919, settled the border between Afghanistan and British India. The British propped up Afghanistan as a buffer state, and the country, with no sense of national consciousness, would retain this role for decades.
But everything began to change after the Second World War.
By 1947, British India was no more, divided between the two new states of India, predominantly Hindu, and Muslim Pakistan, which bordered Afghanistan to its northwest.
Russia, meanwhile, had become a Communist state after the First World War and the new Soviet Union reorganized its central Asian holdings into five ethnically-based socialist republics: Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, Turkmenistan and Uzbekistan, the last three bordering Afghanistan.
By the late 1970s, though, Moscow's control over its central Asian republics was weakening, as local peoples became more assertive. In Afghanistan, meanwhile, increasing political turmoil led to concerns that a Soviet-friendly regime might collapse, prompting a Soviet invasion of that country in 1979.
It proved to be a disastrous decision. After a decade and more than 15,000 soldiers killed, the Soviets retreated, leaving Afghanistan to the mercy of the Taliban. Soon afterwards, the Soviet Union itself fell apart, giving birth to five new sovereign Muslim states in central Asia in 1991.
The United States became the latest major power to get involved in the region's politics. Afghanistan, which had become a haven and source of support for al-Qaida under the protection of the Taliban, was invaded by American and other NATO forces following the Sept. 11, 2001 attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon.
But after a decade of war, the American public is weary of the blood and treasure that has been spent in Afghanistan, with seemingly little effect. It's doubtful that U.S. forces will remain in the country for much longer.
And Afghanistan will probably devolve into civil war, as it did after 1989, with the Taliban again gaining control of the Pashtun-majority regions of the country.
Three great powers — the Americans, British, and Russians — will have abandoned central Asia. Might some other major state, such as China or India, move into the vacuum? Mackinder's question — who will control the Eurasian heartland? — for the moment remains unanswered.
Henry Srebrnik [Charlottetown, PEI] Guardian
In a seminal article, ‘The Geographical Pivot of History', published in 1904, the British geographer Sir Halford Mackinder, one of the prominent theoreticians of geopolitics, wrote that a country that gained control over the Eurasian heartland - what he referred to as the "pivot area" - would eventually gain hegemony over the entire globe.
Mackinder succinctly summarized his theory thus: "Who rules East Europe commands the Heartland; who rules the Heartland commands the World-Island; who rules the World-Island controls the world."
At the time, the vast and strategically important central regions of Asia were governed by the Russians in the north and the British further south.
The British had gained control over much of India by the end of the 18th century, and extinguished Muslim rule altogether when in 1857 they eliminated the Mughal Empire, which for more than three centuries had dominated most of the subcontinent.
Meanwhile, the Russian Empire had expanded into the Muslim regions of central Asia, inhabited mainly by Turkic peoples, in the mid-19th century.
Fabled centres of Islamic culture such as Samarkand and Tashkent fell to the Russians as the Emirate of Bukhara and the Khanates of Khiva and Kokand came under Russian suzerainty.
The British, fearful of Russian expansionism and seeking to protect their Indian empire, fought three wars in Afghanistan. The first war, from 1839 to 1842, led to a massive defeat of the British forces by Afghan warriors and a retreat back to India.
The Russians continued their advances in central Asia, prompting a second Anglo-Afghan war from 1878 to 1880, in which Britain gained assurances that the Russians would not be allowed to bring Afghanistan under its control. In 1887 Russia and Great Britain delineated the northern border of Afghanistan.
The final war, in 1919, settled the border between Afghanistan and British India. The British propped up Afghanistan as a buffer state, and the country, with no sense of national consciousness, would retain this role for decades.
But everything began to change after the Second World War.
By 1947, British India was no more, divided between the two new states of India, predominantly Hindu, and Muslim Pakistan, which bordered Afghanistan to its northwest.
Russia, meanwhile, had become a Communist state after the First World War and the new Soviet Union reorganized its central Asian holdings into five ethnically-based socialist republics: Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, Turkmenistan and Uzbekistan, the last three bordering Afghanistan.
By the late 1970s, though, Moscow's control over its central Asian republics was weakening, as local peoples became more assertive. In Afghanistan, meanwhile, increasing political turmoil led to concerns that a Soviet-friendly regime might collapse, prompting a Soviet invasion of that country in 1979.
It proved to be a disastrous decision. After a decade and more than 15,000 soldiers killed, the Soviets retreated, leaving Afghanistan to the mercy of the Taliban. Soon afterwards, the Soviet Union itself fell apart, giving birth to five new sovereign Muslim states in central Asia in 1991.
The United States became the latest major power to get involved in the region's politics. Afghanistan, which had become a haven and source of support for al-Qaida under the protection of the Taliban, was invaded by American and other NATO forces following the Sept. 11, 2001 attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon.
But after a decade of war, the American public is weary of the blood and treasure that has been spent in Afghanistan, with seemingly little effect. It's doubtful that U.S. forces will remain in the country for much longer.
And Afghanistan will probably devolve into civil war, as it did after 1989, with the Taliban again gaining control of the Pashtun-majority regions of the country.
Three great powers — the Americans, British, and Russians — will have abandoned central Asia. Might some other major state, such as China or India, move into the vacuum? Mackinder's question — who will control the Eurasian heartland? — for the moment remains unanswered.
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
When Will Afghanistan War End?
Henry Srebrnik, [Summerside, PEI] Journal-Pioneer
The vast majority of Americans are sick and tired of the war in Afghanistan.
A recent New York Times/CBS News survey found that 69 percent of those polled indicated that the United States should end the 11 year old war sooner than the projected 2014 withdrawal of American forces.
This drop in support follows a number of incidents, including the inadvertent burning of Korans by American troops and the killing of 17 Afghan civilians in a village earlier this month by Robert Bales, an American staff sergeant.
The poll also follows a number of killings of American troops by their Afghan partners -- a trend that General John R. Allen, the commander of NATO forces in Afghanistan, told the New York Times was likely to continue.
The same day Allen made his comments, three NATO soldiers were shot to death in two separate confrontations involving Afghan security forces.
As well, Afghanistan’s president, Hamid Karzai, has become increasingly erratic and is also suspected of trying to broker a power-sharing deal with the Taliban, behind NATO’s back. He even demanded that NATO troops leave the villages and confine themselves to major bases.
Those of us old enough to remember the Vietnam War sense a déjà vu quality to all this. Indeed, it brings to mind the satirical song, “Talking Vietnam Blues,” penned by the late anti-war activist Phil Ochs in 1964:
Well they put me in a barracks house
Just across the way from Laos.
They said you’re pretty safe when the troops deploy
But don’t turn your back on your house boy
When they ring the gong, watch out for the Viet Cong.
The Afghanistan war has not seen the same groundswell of anti-war activism that was a hallmark of the 1960s, for two reasons:
Americans considered ridding the country of the Taliban, whose leaders had offered Al-Qaeda a base of operations, justified, in the wake of the September 11, 2001 attacks on the world Trade Center and Pentagon.
And the U.S. military is today a volunteer force, so most Americans do not feel any personal loss from the war; their sons and daughters have not been drafted to fight in a far-off land, as was the case with Vietnam.
Even so, Americans sense that by this point, there’s nothing more to be done in Afghanistan. Al-Qaeda is long gone and Osama bin Laden is dead. And the attempts at democratization and nation-building have been abandoned as utopian dreams.
The war in Vietnam went on far too long, after it was clear that there would be no clear-cut victory over the Communists. President Obama should heed this lesson in regards to Afghanistan. Realpolitik dictates that it’s time to leave.
Henry Srebrnik, [Summerside, PEI] Journal-Pioneer
The vast majority of Americans are sick and tired of the war in Afghanistan.
A recent New York Times/CBS News survey found that 69 percent of those polled indicated that the United States should end the 11 year old war sooner than the projected 2014 withdrawal of American forces.
This drop in support follows a number of incidents, including the inadvertent burning of Korans by American troops and the killing of 17 Afghan civilians in a village earlier this month by Robert Bales, an American staff sergeant.
The poll also follows a number of killings of American troops by their Afghan partners -- a trend that General John R. Allen, the commander of NATO forces in Afghanistan, told the New York Times was likely to continue.
The same day Allen made his comments, three NATO soldiers were shot to death in two separate confrontations involving Afghan security forces.
As well, Afghanistan’s president, Hamid Karzai, has become increasingly erratic and is also suspected of trying to broker a power-sharing deal with the Taliban, behind NATO’s back. He even demanded that NATO troops leave the villages and confine themselves to major bases.
Those of us old enough to remember the Vietnam War sense a déjà vu quality to all this. Indeed, it brings to mind the satirical song, “Talking Vietnam Blues,” penned by the late anti-war activist Phil Ochs in 1964:
Well they put me in a barracks house
Just across the way from Laos.
They said you’re pretty safe when the troops deploy
But don’t turn your back on your house boy
When they ring the gong, watch out for the Viet Cong.
The Afghanistan war has not seen the same groundswell of anti-war activism that was a hallmark of the 1960s, for two reasons:
Americans considered ridding the country of the Taliban, whose leaders had offered Al-Qaeda a base of operations, justified, in the wake of the September 11, 2001 attacks on the world Trade Center and Pentagon.
And the U.S. military is today a volunteer force, so most Americans do not feel any personal loss from the war; their sons and daughters have not been drafted to fight in a far-off land, as was the case with Vietnam.
Even so, Americans sense that by this point, there’s nothing more to be done in Afghanistan. Al-Qaeda is long gone and Osama bin Laden is dead. And the attempts at democratization and nation-building have been abandoned as utopian dreams.
The war in Vietnam went on far too long, after it was clear that there would be no clear-cut victory over the Communists. President Obama should heed this lesson in regards to Afghanistan. Realpolitik dictates that it’s time to leave.
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Were We Once the Stepchildren in the Canadian Family?
Henry Srebrnik, [Toronto] Jewish Tribune
Jewish immigration to Canada is the story, not only of the arrival and settlement of Jews in this country, but also of the way they were treated while attempting to adapt to their new home.
Negative attitudes towards Jews and Judaism, ranging from mild distaste to intense and pathological antisemitism, have shaped the contours of Canadian Jewish life, particularly in the periods of mass Jewish immigration and extending through the end of World War II and even into the 1950s.
Most Jewish immigration to this country occurred after 1881, and consisted, until the 1950s, primarily of east European Ashkenazim. In 1881, there were just 2,443 Jews in Canada; 40 years later Canada's Jews numbered 126,196.
Clearly, such a large influx of Jews elicited a variety of responses. While many welcomed Jews as hard-working immigrants, for others this immigration had created a "Jewish problem" on Canadian soil.
In the Anglo-Canadian world, Canada was seen as an outpost of British civility; for French Canadians, the upholding of the Catholic faith was a religious imperative. For both, therefore, Jewish immigrants threatened the very fabric of society. Jews were perceived as ethnic and religious undesirables with little economic utility and stood in direct conflict with the social and economic assumptions on which Canadian immigration policy was built.
Wrote Henri Bourassa, the French Canadian intellectual and journalist, in 1906: "The experience of every civilized country is that the Jews are the most undesirable class of people any country can have."
In 1923, the Canadian government closed the door to all unsponsored immigrants from central and eastern Europe except farmers. And then it moved to control those described as belonging "to races that cannot be assimilated without social or economic loss to Canada."
Jews were lumped into a Special Permit group. The only ones permitted into Canada would be those who could obtain special permits exempting them from the new regulations - and this required formal cabinet approval in each individual case.
Not surprisingly, only a trickle of individual Jews entered Canada annually during the next quarter-century. Immigration officials such as F.C. Blair, assistant deputy minister of immigration after 1924 and deputy minister after 1936, would see to that. Even German Jewish doctors willing to serve in Newfoundland's outports were refused admission.
The opposition to Jewish immigration in the '30s and '40s included Prime Minister William Lyon Mackenzie King himself; he worried in private that letting in too many Jews would cause riots and undermine Canadian unity. And in this he reflected prevailing public opinion in this country: polls taken in the years before 1945 showed that, along with Asians, Jews were the least-wanted immigrants.
Quebec had a long and dishonourable tradition of antisemitism, which intensified with the rise of fascism in the 1930s. In June 1934, Samuel Rabinovitch, a Jewish medical student who had graduated first in his class at the Université de Montréal, was offered an internship at Notre Dame Hospital. All 14 other interns there walked out in protest, supported by interns from five other Montreal-area Catholic hospitals.
Who could blame them, asked the French-language Le Devoir? It would be repugnant to be treated - even touched - by a Jewish physician.
In the Laurentians, Jews were harassed, taunted and assaulted; hotels and other establishment proudly sported 'Gentiles Only' signs. The Achat chez Nous movement urged French Canadians to buy only from co-religionists and stay away from Jewish shopkeepers who, noted Le Devoir, "have cheating and corruption in their bloodstream."
Not surprisingly, Québécois politicians and clergy led the agitation against further Jewish immigration to Canada. As one Toronto rabbi, Maurice Eisendrath, said in June 1938: "In Quebec antisemitism is a way of life."
Maurice Duplessis, premier of Quebec after 1936, vigorously opposed the admission of Jewish refugees to Canada. During the 1944 provincial election, he spread stories about a supposed "international Zionist" plot to spirit 100,000 Jews into the province at the end of the war if the provincial Liberals would be returned to power.
Though Quebec was particularly bad, the rest of Canada was not free of anti-Jewish prejudice either.
Social Credit, the Orange Order, the Ku Klux Klan - these and many other groups were rife with antisemitic feeling. Three weeks after winning power in Alberta in 1935, new Social Credit Premier William Aberhart travelled to Detroit to discuss economics with Father Charles Coughlin, an antisemitic Catholic priest whose weekly radio broadcasts attracted millions of listeners.
Other Social Crediters spouted nonsense about "Jewish High Finance." Especially notorious was Norman Jaques, federal MP for Wetaskiwin from 1935 to 1949. He propounded Jewish conspiracy theories and in 1943 attempted to read from the Protocols of the Elders of Zion in the House of Commons.
Throughout Canada, quotas and restrictions were a way of life, and anti-Jewish bigotry sanctioned in press and pulpit. A Canadian Jewish Congress study commissioned in the late 1930s showed few Jewish teachers, and no principals, in Canadian schools. There was not a single Jewish university professor in the country.
Banks, insurance companies, and large industrial and commercial enterprises excluded Jews from employment. Jews were refused work even as salespeople in department stores. Restrictive covenants kept Jews out of "desirable" neighbourhoods as either tenants or homeowners.
And unlike today, the legal system provided little in the way of redress. There were few laws against discrimination, hatemongering or the like.
Redress had to await more enlightened times. Only in the 1960s could Canadian Jews consider themselves, and be considered by others, to be part of the Canadian family.
Henry Srebrnik, [Toronto] Jewish Tribune
Jewish immigration to Canada is the story, not only of the arrival and settlement of Jews in this country, but also of the way they were treated while attempting to adapt to their new home.
Negative attitudes towards Jews and Judaism, ranging from mild distaste to intense and pathological antisemitism, have shaped the contours of Canadian Jewish life, particularly in the periods of mass Jewish immigration and extending through the end of World War II and even into the 1950s.
Most Jewish immigration to this country occurred after 1881, and consisted, until the 1950s, primarily of east European Ashkenazim. In 1881, there were just 2,443 Jews in Canada; 40 years later Canada's Jews numbered 126,196.
Clearly, such a large influx of Jews elicited a variety of responses. While many welcomed Jews as hard-working immigrants, for others this immigration had created a "Jewish problem" on Canadian soil.
In the Anglo-Canadian world, Canada was seen as an outpost of British civility; for French Canadians, the upholding of the Catholic faith was a religious imperative. For both, therefore, Jewish immigrants threatened the very fabric of society. Jews were perceived as ethnic and religious undesirables with little economic utility and stood in direct conflict with the social and economic assumptions on which Canadian immigration policy was built.
Wrote Henri Bourassa, the French Canadian intellectual and journalist, in 1906: "The experience of every civilized country is that the Jews are the most undesirable class of people any country can have."
In 1923, the Canadian government closed the door to all unsponsored immigrants from central and eastern Europe except farmers. And then it moved to control those described as belonging "to races that cannot be assimilated without social or economic loss to Canada."
Jews were lumped into a Special Permit group. The only ones permitted into Canada would be those who could obtain special permits exempting them from the new regulations - and this required formal cabinet approval in each individual case.
Not surprisingly, only a trickle of individual Jews entered Canada annually during the next quarter-century. Immigration officials such as F.C. Blair, assistant deputy minister of immigration after 1924 and deputy minister after 1936, would see to that. Even German Jewish doctors willing to serve in Newfoundland's outports were refused admission.
The opposition to Jewish immigration in the '30s and '40s included Prime Minister William Lyon Mackenzie King himself; he worried in private that letting in too many Jews would cause riots and undermine Canadian unity. And in this he reflected prevailing public opinion in this country: polls taken in the years before 1945 showed that, along with Asians, Jews were the least-wanted immigrants.
Quebec had a long and dishonourable tradition of antisemitism, which intensified with the rise of fascism in the 1930s. In June 1934, Samuel Rabinovitch, a Jewish medical student who had graduated first in his class at the Université de Montréal, was offered an internship at Notre Dame Hospital. All 14 other interns there walked out in protest, supported by interns from five other Montreal-area Catholic hospitals.
Who could blame them, asked the French-language Le Devoir? It would be repugnant to be treated - even touched - by a Jewish physician.
In the Laurentians, Jews were harassed, taunted and assaulted; hotels and other establishment proudly sported 'Gentiles Only' signs. The Achat chez Nous movement urged French Canadians to buy only from co-religionists and stay away from Jewish shopkeepers who, noted Le Devoir, "have cheating and corruption in their bloodstream."
Not surprisingly, Québécois politicians and clergy led the agitation against further Jewish immigration to Canada. As one Toronto rabbi, Maurice Eisendrath, said in June 1938: "In Quebec antisemitism is a way of life."
Maurice Duplessis, premier of Quebec after 1936, vigorously opposed the admission of Jewish refugees to Canada. During the 1944 provincial election, he spread stories about a supposed "international Zionist" plot to spirit 100,000 Jews into the province at the end of the war if the provincial Liberals would be returned to power.
Though Quebec was particularly bad, the rest of Canada was not free of anti-Jewish prejudice either.
Social Credit, the Orange Order, the Ku Klux Klan - these and many other groups were rife with antisemitic feeling. Three weeks after winning power in Alberta in 1935, new Social Credit Premier William Aberhart travelled to Detroit to discuss economics with Father Charles Coughlin, an antisemitic Catholic priest whose weekly radio broadcasts attracted millions of listeners.
Other Social Crediters spouted nonsense about "Jewish High Finance." Especially notorious was Norman Jaques, federal MP for Wetaskiwin from 1935 to 1949. He propounded Jewish conspiracy theories and in 1943 attempted to read from the Protocols of the Elders of Zion in the House of Commons.
Throughout Canada, quotas and restrictions were a way of life, and anti-Jewish bigotry sanctioned in press and pulpit. A Canadian Jewish Congress study commissioned in the late 1930s showed few Jewish teachers, and no principals, in Canadian schools. There was not a single Jewish university professor in the country.
Banks, insurance companies, and large industrial and commercial enterprises excluded Jews from employment. Jews were refused work even as salespeople in department stores. Restrictive covenants kept Jews out of "desirable" neighbourhoods as either tenants or homeowners.
And unlike today, the legal system provided little in the way of redress. There were few laws against discrimination, hatemongering or the like.
Redress had to await more enlightened times. Only in the 1960s could Canadian Jews consider themselves, and be considered by others, to be part of the Canadian family.
Monday, March 19, 2012
A Cautionary Tale of Ethnic Nationalism
By Henry Srebrnik, [Summerside, PEI] Journal-Pioneer
Sometimes you shouldn’t give in to someone who might, according to the political zeitgeist of the time, be technically in the right – because you know they have evil motives and aggressive intentions and this will only make them stronger.
I’m referring to one of the tragedies that led up to the Second World War – Hitler’s dismemberment of Czechoslovakia, the only democratic state in eastern Europe between the two world wars.
It’s been twenty years since Czechoslovakia peacefully dissolved into two states, the Czech Republic and Slovakia, a few years after the end of Communist rule. The Czechs and Slovaks went their separate ways following the decision in July 1992 to disband the country; their “velvet divorce” was easy.
But things were very different in 1938-1939, the first time the country disintegrated .
When the multi-national Austro-Hungarian Empire or “Dual Monarchy” collapsed at the end of the First World War, most of the German areas became part of the new republic of Austria.
However, many Germans were incorporated into a newly formed country, Czechoslovakia, which comprised the lands of the former Habsburg-ruled Bohemian Crown -- Bohemia, Moravia and Silesia-- and the Slovak and Ruthenian parts of the old Kingdom of Hungary.
The population consisted of Czechs (51 per cent), Germans (23 per cent), Slovaks (16 per cent), Hungarians (5 per cent), Ruthenians (4 per cent), and Jews (1 per cent).
These Germans, living in the border regions of Bohemia, Moravia and Silesia, were included in the new country against their will by the victorious Allies who carved up the old Habsburg Empire.
Some had lived in these areas – which became known as the Sudetenland -- since the 12th century and they even set up a short-lived entity known as German Bohemia.
This became a recipe for disaster once Adolf Hitler took power in Germany in 1933 and created his “Third Reich.”
Using the nationalist argument that people with a common language and ethnicity should belong to the same political state, Hitler, who paraded as the champion of pan-German nationalism and a “Greater Reich,” had already grabbed Austria in March of 1938, in an enforced union known as the “Anschluss.”
Now he turned his sights on the Sudetenland. At the infamous Munich conference of September 1938, Hitler got his way and incorporated the region into Nazi Germany. And indeed, the vast majority of Sudeten Germans welcomed Hitler’s takeover.
In March of 1939, Hitler grabbed the rest of the old Crown lands of Bohemia and Moravia, turning it into a Nazi-ruled “protectorate,” while Slovakia became a German puppet state.
Czechoslovakia, reconstituted after Germany’s defeat in 1945, “solved” the problem of its Sudeten German minority through “ethnic cleansing.” About three million Germans were expelled, thousands more were killed or died, and the Czech lands became ethnically homogeneous.
The Slovaks, though, still have a restive minority to deal with to this day – the ethnic Hungarians, 8.5% of Slovakia’s population, and concentrated mostly in the southern part of the country, next to the border with Hungary.
Will this become a future Sudetenland-style crisis? Only time will tell.
By Henry Srebrnik, [Summerside, PEI] Journal-Pioneer
Sometimes you shouldn’t give in to someone who might, according to the political zeitgeist of the time, be technically in the right – because you know they have evil motives and aggressive intentions and this will only make them stronger.
I’m referring to one of the tragedies that led up to the Second World War – Hitler’s dismemberment of Czechoslovakia, the only democratic state in eastern Europe between the two world wars.
It’s been twenty years since Czechoslovakia peacefully dissolved into two states, the Czech Republic and Slovakia, a few years after the end of Communist rule. The Czechs and Slovaks went their separate ways following the decision in July 1992 to disband the country; their “velvet divorce” was easy.
But things were very different in 1938-1939, the first time the country disintegrated .
When the multi-national Austro-Hungarian Empire or “Dual Monarchy” collapsed at the end of the First World War, most of the German areas became part of the new republic of Austria.
However, many Germans were incorporated into a newly formed country, Czechoslovakia, which comprised the lands of the former Habsburg-ruled Bohemian Crown -- Bohemia, Moravia and Silesia-- and the Slovak and Ruthenian parts of the old Kingdom of Hungary.
The population consisted of Czechs (51 per cent), Germans (23 per cent), Slovaks (16 per cent), Hungarians (5 per cent), Ruthenians (4 per cent), and Jews (1 per cent).
These Germans, living in the border regions of Bohemia, Moravia and Silesia, were included in the new country against their will by the victorious Allies who carved up the old Habsburg Empire.
Some had lived in these areas – which became known as the Sudetenland -- since the 12th century and they even set up a short-lived entity known as German Bohemia.
This became a recipe for disaster once Adolf Hitler took power in Germany in 1933 and created his “Third Reich.”
Using the nationalist argument that people with a common language and ethnicity should belong to the same political state, Hitler, who paraded as the champion of pan-German nationalism and a “Greater Reich,” had already grabbed Austria in March of 1938, in an enforced union known as the “Anschluss.”
Now he turned his sights on the Sudetenland. At the infamous Munich conference of September 1938, Hitler got his way and incorporated the region into Nazi Germany. And indeed, the vast majority of Sudeten Germans welcomed Hitler’s takeover.
In March of 1939, Hitler grabbed the rest of the old Crown lands of Bohemia and Moravia, turning it into a Nazi-ruled “protectorate,” while Slovakia became a German puppet state.
Czechoslovakia, reconstituted after Germany’s defeat in 1945, “solved” the problem of its Sudeten German minority through “ethnic cleansing.” About three million Germans were expelled, thousands more were killed or died, and the Czech lands became ethnically homogeneous.
The Slovaks, though, still have a restive minority to deal with to this day – the ethnic Hungarians, 8.5% of Slovakia’s population, and concentrated mostly in the southern part of the country, next to the border with Hungary.
Will this become a future Sudetenland-style crisis? Only time will tell.
Saturday, March 03, 2012
A Tale of Two Capitals
Henry Srebrnik, [Summerside, PEI] Journal-Pioneer
Ottawa is a fairly nice city, but as a national capital, does it really express, through its public buildings and monuments, the historical, social and cultural values that make up Canada?
Yes, there are the National Gallery of Canada, the Canadian War Museum and, across the Ottawa River in Gatineau, the Canadian Museum of Civilization.
Confederation Square is the site of Canada’s National War Memorial. And nearby, of course, is Parliament Hill, the home of our federal legislative branch. There is also Rideau Hall, home of the governor general.
Yet the parts remain greater than the sum. These discrete landmarks don’t form a cohesive whole.
The Unimagined Canadian Capital: Challenges for the Federal Capital Region is the title of a collection of essays about the National Capital Region that grew from a conference in 2011.
Editors Rupak Chattopadhyay and Gilles Paquet, along with the various authors, maintain that too many stakeholders have neglected their duty of imagining an inspiring federal capital region.
Many of the essays blame the fragmented governance of the area. There are too many cooks spoiling the broth: two cities, Ottawa and Gatineau; two provinces, Ontario and Quebec; and the National Capital Commission, which administers the federally owned lands and buildings, all have a say in how our capital should look.
As Globe and Mail columnist Jeffrey Simpson recently wrote, “various federal governments have done little, being fearful of acting lest they be accused by Canadians elsewhere of ‘squandering taxpayers’ money’ or favouring a city already grown rich on taxpayers’ largesse.” Do Canadians, he wonders, really care about their capital?
Compare this to the grandeur of the National Mall in Washington. While Ottawa, then known as Bytown, already existed when it became Canada’s capital in 1867, Washington was a planned city. President George Washington appointed the French architect Pierre L’Enfant in 1791 to design the new capital city in the square of federal territory between Maryland and Virginia that would later become the District of Columbia.
The Mall spans three kilometres between the U.S. Capitol in the east to the Lincoln Memorial at the other end. Bisecting the area vertically are the White House to the north and the Jefferson Memorial to the south. The center of the Mall is marked by the towering Washington Monument.
The National Park Service states that the purposes of the National Mall are to “provide a monumental, dignified, and symbolic setting for the governmental structures, museums and national memorials; maintain and provide for the use of the National Mall with its public promenades as a completed work of civic art, a designed historic landscape providing extraordinary vistas to symbols of the nation; and maintain the National Mall in the heart of the nation’s capital as a stage for national events and a preeminent national civic space for public gatherings.” (One notable example is the 1963 March on Washington, where Martin Luther King, Jr. delivered his “I Have a Dream” speech.)
The Mall does all these things. Along its perimeters there are more than 15 museums and galleries, including the National Museum of American History, the National Gallery of Art; the National Air and Space Museum; the National Museum of the American Indian; the Smithsonian Institution; and the Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden.
Structures bordering the Mall include the Library of Congress and the United States Supreme Court Building; the Franklin Delano Roosevelt Memorial; the Martin Luther King, Jr., Memorial; the Vietnam Veterans Memorial; and the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum.
The Mall is the place where the nation conserves its past, simultaneously recollecting it, honouring it, and practicing it (in the White House and Capitol), observed Charles L. Griswold and Stephen S. Griswold in their article “The Vietnam Veterans Memorial and the Washington Mall,” published in the journal Critical Inquiry in 1986.
“The area possesses an extraordinary cohesiveness from the standpoint of its symbolism,” they concluded. Through its iconography, it is a concrete and living lesson in American history.
It certainly makes Ottawa pale by comparison.
Henry Srebrnik, [Summerside, PEI] Journal-Pioneer
Ottawa is a fairly nice city, but as a national capital, does it really express, through its public buildings and monuments, the historical, social and cultural values that make up Canada?
Yes, there are the National Gallery of Canada, the Canadian War Museum and, across the Ottawa River in Gatineau, the Canadian Museum of Civilization.
Confederation Square is the site of Canada’s National War Memorial. And nearby, of course, is Parliament Hill, the home of our federal legislative branch. There is also Rideau Hall, home of the governor general.
Yet the parts remain greater than the sum. These discrete landmarks don’t form a cohesive whole.
The Unimagined Canadian Capital: Challenges for the Federal Capital Region is the title of a collection of essays about the National Capital Region that grew from a conference in 2011.
Editors Rupak Chattopadhyay and Gilles Paquet, along with the various authors, maintain that too many stakeholders have neglected their duty of imagining an inspiring federal capital region.
Many of the essays blame the fragmented governance of the area. There are too many cooks spoiling the broth: two cities, Ottawa and Gatineau; two provinces, Ontario and Quebec; and the National Capital Commission, which administers the federally owned lands and buildings, all have a say in how our capital should look.
As Globe and Mail columnist Jeffrey Simpson recently wrote, “various federal governments have done little, being fearful of acting lest they be accused by Canadians elsewhere of ‘squandering taxpayers’ money’ or favouring a city already grown rich on taxpayers’ largesse.” Do Canadians, he wonders, really care about their capital?
Compare this to the grandeur of the National Mall in Washington. While Ottawa, then known as Bytown, already existed when it became Canada’s capital in 1867, Washington was a planned city. President George Washington appointed the French architect Pierre L’Enfant in 1791 to design the new capital city in the square of federal territory between Maryland and Virginia that would later become the District of Columbia.
The Mall spans three kilometres between the U.S. Capitol in the east to the Lincoln Memorial at the other end. Bisecting the area vertically are the White House to the north and the Jefferson Memorial to the south. The center of the Mall is marked by the towering Washington Monument.
The National Park Service states that the purposes of the National Mall are to “provide a monumental, dignified, and symbolic setting for the governmental structures, museums and national memorials; maintain and provide for the use of the National Mall with its public promenades as a completed work of civic art, a designed historic landscape providing extraordinary vistas to symbols of the nation; and maintain the National Mall in the heart of the nation’s capital as a stage for national events and a preeminent national civic space for public gatherings.” (One notable example is the 1963 March on Washington, where Martin Luther King, Jr. delivered his “I Have a Dream” speech.)
The Mall does all these things. Along its perimeters there are more than 15 museums and galleries, including the National Museum of American History, the National Gallery of Art; the National Air and Space Museum; the National Museum of the American Indian; the Smithsonian Institution; and the Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden.
Structures bordering the Mall include the Library of Congress and the United States Supreme Court Building; the Franklin Delano Roosevelt Memorial; the Martin Luther King, Jr., Memorial; the Vietnam Veterans Memorial; and the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum.
The Mall is the place where the nation conserves its past, simultaneously recollecting it, honouring it, and practicing it (in the White House and Capitol), observed Charles L. Griswold and Stephen S. Griswold in their article “The Vietnam Veterans Memorial and the Washington Mall,” published in the journal Critical Inquiry in 1986.
“The area possesses an extraordinary cohesiveness from the standpoint of its symbolism,” they concluded. Through its iconography, it is a concrete and living lesson in American history.
It certainly makes Ottawa pale by comparison.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
A Vanished Ideology: Jewish Communism 1917-1956
Henry Srebrnik, [Toronto] Jewish Tribune
In May, the YIVO Institute for Jewish Research in New York will host a conference on Jews and the Left, which will include presentations on Jews and Communism in the 20th Century.
Few people now recall how significant a role that ideology once played among a segment of the community. But it would come to an abrupt end.
On Feb. 25, 1956, Nikita Khrushchev, leader of the Soviet Union, delivered a four-hour speech to the 20th Congress of the Communist Party in which he denounced the crimes committed by Joseph Stalin and his associates.
Stalin's antisemitic campaigns, which had intensified after 1948, were also finally acknowledged. The Warsaw Yiddish Communist newspaper Folkshtime in April 1956 published articles about the extent and virulence of Stalin's antisemitism.
All of this came as a shock to Jewish Communists in the western countries, and the Jewish Communist movement, which had flourished since the Russian Revolution in 1917, virtually vanished.
The movement had its origins in east European traditions of political radicalism, and sought to improve the condition of working-class Jews by adding ideas of Jewish renewal to Marxist-Leninist ideology.
It constituted a response to the economic, political, social and cultural problems facing the mainly Yiddish-speaking immigrant Jewish populations and gained a fair number of adherents and some measure of success between 1917 and 1956. Though officially part of the larger world Communist movement, in reality the Jewish Communists developed their own specific ideology, which was infused as much by Jewish sources, including the literature of such Yiddish poets and writers as I.L. Peretz and Sholem Asch, as it was inspired by the Bolshevik revolution.
The Jewish Communist movement created its own fraternal organizations - in Canada, the United Jewish People's Order; in the United States, the Jewish People's Fraternal Order; in Britain, branches of the Workers' Circle - as well as publications, schools, and camps. The Yiddish-language groups, especially, were interconnected through the YKUF, the World Jewish Cultural Union.
Indeed, through YKUF, which operated mainly in Yiddish, they had access to a great variety of newspapers and theoretical and literary journals. Hence, Jewish Communists were able to communicate, disseminate information, and debate issues such as Jewish nationality and statehood independently of other Communists.
In much the same way as Zionist organizations considered themselves support groups for the building of a Jewish nation in Eretz Israel, so did the Jewish Communists propagandize on behalf of the Yiddish-language Jewish Autonomous Region in Birobidzhan, in the Soviet Far East.
During World War II, they took their political cue from the Moscow-based Jewish Anti-Fascist Committee, and helped sponsor the 1943 tour of the Soviet Jewish emissaries Itzik Feffer and Shloime Mikhoels to Canada, the United States, Mexico and Britain.
The period during and immediately following World War II proved to be the historical "moment" for the Jewish Communists. They had been involved in a decade of "popular front" campaigns on behalf of anti-fascist struggles in Spain and elsewhere. They were in the forefront of support for the Soviet Union in its struggle against Hitler.
By 1945, most were also favourably disposed towards a Jewish state, and were instrumental in moving the world Communist movement in that direction.
This relatively short-lived but favourable conjuncture of ethnic and class forces enabled Jewish Communists in several countries to post a number of electoral and ideological victories in constituencies with significant Jewish populations.
In the July 1945 British general election, Phil Piratin, a Communist candidate, was elected to Parliament from the predominantly Jewish constituency of Mile End, Stepney. In the Cartier riding of Montreal, Fred Rose, running for the Labour Progressive (Communist) Party, won election to the House of Commons in 1943 and 1945; two LPP candidates, including J.B. Salsberg, won seats in the 1945 Ontario provincial election.
In the United States, Leo Isacson, running on behalf of the Communist-dominated American Labor Party, won election in 1948 to the House of Representatives from the largely Jewish 24th Congressional District in the Bronx. And South Africa witnessed the election, in January 1949, of Sam Kahn, a leading Communist Party theoretician.
The movement was also very active in the Jewish communities of Argentina, Australia, France, Mexico and Uruguay.
It remained a force in Jewish life until the mid-1950s. But it was already becoming ideologically marginalized after the establishment of the state of Israel.
The disillusionment with the Soviet Union that followed the revelations of Stalin's crimes and antisemitic repression was for most of its members the last straw.
Henry Srebrnik, [Toronto] Jewish Tribune
In May, the YIVO Institute for Jewish Research in New York will host a conference on Jews and the Left, which will include presentations on Jews and Communism in the 20th Century.
Few people now recall how significant a role that ideology once played among a segment of the community. But it would come to an abrupt end.
On Feb. 25, 1956, Nikita Khrushchev, leader of the Soviet Union, delivered a four-hour speech to the 20th Congress of the Communist Party in which he denounced the crimes committed by Joseph Stalin and his associates.
Stalin's antisemitic campaigns, which had intensified after 1948, were also finally acknowledged. The Warsaw Yiddish Communist newspaper Folkshtime in April 1956 published articles about the extent and virulence of Stalin's antisemitism.
All of this came as a shock to Jewish Communists in the western countries, and the Jewish Communist movement, which had flourished since the Russian Revolution in 1917, virtually vanished.
The movement had its origins in east European traditions of political radicalism, and sought to improve the condition of working-class Jews by adding ideas of Jewish renewal to Marxist-Leninist ideology.
It constituted a response to the economic, political, social and cultural problems facing the mainly Yiddish-speaking immigrant Jewish populations and gained a fair number of adherents and some measure of success between 1917 and 1956. Though officially part of the larger world Communist movement, in reality the Jewish Communists developed their own specific ideology, which was infused as much by Jewish sources, including the literature of such Yiddish poets and writers as I.L. Peretz and Sholem Asch, as it was inspired by the Bolshevik revolution.
The Jewish Communist movement created its own fraternal organizations - in Canada, the United Jewish People's Order; in the United States, the Jewish People's Fraternal Order; in Britain, branches of the Workers' Circle - as well as publications, schools, and camps. The Yiddish-language groups, especially, were interconnected through the YKUF, the World Jewish Cultural Union.
Indeed, through YKUF, which operated mainly in Yiddish, they had access to a great variety of newspapers and theoretical and literary journals. Hence, Jewish Communists were able to communicate, disseminate information, and debate issues such as Jewish nationality and statehood independently of other Communists.
In much the same way as Zionist organizations considered themselves support groups for the building of a Jewish nation in Eretz Israel, so did the Jewish Communists propagandize on behalf of the Yiddish-language Jewish Autonomous Region in Birobidzhan, in the Soviet Far East.
During World War II, they took their political cue from the Moscow-based Jewish Anti-Fascist Committee, and helped sponsor the 1943 tour of the Soviet Jewish emissaries Itzik Feffer and Shloime Mikhoels to Canada, the United States, Mexico and Britain.
The period during and immediately following World War II proved to be the historical "moment" for the Jewish Communists. They had been involved in a decade of "popular front" campaigns on behalf of anti-fascist struggles in Spain and elsewhere. They were in the forefront of support for the Soviet Union in its struggle against Hitler.
By 1945, most were also favourably disposed towards a Jewish state, and were instrumental in moving the world Communist movement in that direction.
This relatively short-lived but favourable conjuncture of ethnic and class forces enabled Jewish Communists in several countries to post a number of electoral and ideological victories in constituencies with significant Jewish populations.
In the July 1945 British general election, Phil Piratin, a Communist candidate, was elected to Parliament from the predominantly Jewish constituency of Mile End, Stepney. In the Cartier riding of Montreal, Fred Rose, running for the Labour Progressive (Communist) Party, won election to the House of Commons in 1943 and 1945; two LPP candidates, including J.B. Salsberg, won seats in the 1945 Ontario provincial election.
In the United States, Leo Isacson, running on behalf of the Communist-dominated American Labor Party, won election in 1948 to the House of Representatives from the largely Jewish 24th Congressional District in the Bronx. And South Africa witnessed the election, in January 1949, of Sam Kahn, a leading Communist Party theoretician.
The movement was also very active in the Jewish communities of Argentina, Australia, France, Mexico and Uruguay.
It remained a force in Jewish life until the mid-1950s. But it was already becoming ideologically marginalized after the establishment of the state of Israel.
The disillusionment with the Soviet Union that followed the revelations of Stalin's crimes and antisemitic repression was for most of its members the last straw.
Friday, February 17, 2012
Soviet-Style Disproportion
Henry Srebrnik, [Charlottetown, PEI] Guardian
In his State of the Union speech last month, Barack Obama warned that America is becoming “a country where a shrinking number of people do really well, while a growing number of Americans barely get by.”
The United States has gone from being a comparatively egalitarian society to one of the most unequal democracies in the world. The richest fifth of the population controls about 85 per cent of the country’s wealth.
Income inequality stands at its highest rate since the Great Depression. Chief executives now make roughly 200 to 300 times as much as their average employees’ salary.
The incomes of most Americans began to flatten or decline after 1980 -- they now enjoy less economic mobility than their counterparts in Canada and much of Western Europe.
The economic meltdown since 2007 has created further damage, asserts the well-regarded Columbia University economist Joseph Stiglitz. “Unemployed young people are alienated. It will be harder and harder to get some large proportion of them onto a productive track. They will be scarred for life by what is happening today,” he wrote last December in a Vanity Fair article.
But the problem is not simply that a small number of people are very rich or pay less than their fair share of taxes. It also lies in the way many of them got rich.
They are all too often bankers, hedge fund managers, and Wall Street traders who manipulate immense sums of money for their own benefit, and give themselves multi-million dollar bonuses – regardless of whether their activities actually benefit the economy as a whole.
Very often it’s actually the reverse, as companies are downsized, manufacturing jobs outsourced to other countries, workers laid off, and homes foreclosed.
Yet financiers and corporate leaders have managed to grab more and more of the country’s income for themselves -- even when their corporation’s performance has been disappointing.
These are not the “captains of industry” of yesteryear.
The political class has also done well for itself. Roughly 11 per cent of members of Congress have a net worth of more than $9 million, according to an analysis of 2010 financial disclosures compiled by the Center for Responsive Politics. That puts these politicians in the top one per cent of Americans in terms of wealth.
Has America developed a Soviet-style “nomenklatura,” an elite that appropriates a disproportionate share of the nation’s wealth, by virtue of its position in society? After all, many of these people don’t “make” (as in produce) anything, they just make money.
In the Soviet Union, while the economy stagnated, the Communist party elite enjoyed a standard of living far greater than that of ordinary Russians. The system provided them with ample high quality goods, while those less privileged might wait months or years for basic necessities.
And when the Soviet command economy finally collapsed, and people could buy state-owned industries and property, it was these privileged Communist apparatchiks, with strong connections to Soviet power structures and access to the monetary funds, who snapped them up at bargain-basement prices, becoming a class of ultra-rich oligarchs.
Is America, with its growing gap between the privileged few and a declining middle and working class, beginning to resemble the Soviet Union after the 1970s?
Henry Srebrnik, [Charlottetown, PEI] Guardian
In his State of the Union speech last month, Barack Obama warned that America is becoming “a country where a shrinking number of people do really well, while a growing number of Americans barely get by.”
The United States has gone from being a comparatively egalitarian society to one of the most unequal democracies in the world. The richest fifth of the population controls about 85 per cent of the country’s wealth.
Income inequality stands at its highest rate since the Great Depression. Chief executives now make roughly 200 to 300 times as much as their average employees’ salary.
The incomes of most Americans began to flatten or decline after 1980 -- they now enjoy less economic mobility than their counterparts in Canada and much of Western Europe.
The economic meltdown since 2007 has created further damage, asserts the well-regarded Columbia University economist Joseph Stiglitz. “Unemployed young people are alienated. It will be harder and harder to get some large proportion of them onto a productive track. They will be scarred for life by what is happening today,” he wrote last December in a Vanity Fair article.
But the problem is not simply that a small number of people are very rich or pay less than their fair share of taxes. It also lies in the way many of them got rich.
They are all too often bankers, hedge fund managers, and Wall Street traders who manipulate immense sums of money for their own benefit, and give themselves multi-million dollar bonuses – regardless of whether their activities actually benefit the economy as a whole.
Very often it’s actually the reverse, as companies are downsized, manufacturing jobs outsourced to other countries, workers laid off, and homes foreclosed.
Yet financiers and corporate leaders have managed to grab more and more of the country’s income for themselves -- even when their corporation’s performance has been disappointing.
These are not the “captains of industry” of yesteryear.
The political class has also done well for itself. Roughly 11 per cent of members of Congress have a net worth of more than $9 million, according to an analysis of 2010 financial disclosures compiled by the Center for Responsive Politics. That puts these politicians in the top one per cent of Americans in terms of wealth.
Has America developed a Soviet-style “nomenklatura,” an elite that appropriates a disproportionate share of the nation’s wealth, by virtue of its position in society? After all, many of these people don’t “make” (as in produce) anything, they just make money.
In the Soviet Union, while the economy stagnated, the Communist party elite enjoyed a standard of living far greater than that of ordinary Russians. The system provided them with ample high quality goods, while those less privileged might wait months or years for basic necessities.
And when the Soviet command economy finally collapsed, and people could buy state-owned industries and property, it was these privileged Communist apparatchiks, with strong connections to Soviet power structures and access to the monetary funds, who snapped them up at bargain-basement prices, becoming a class of ultra-rich oligarchs.
Is America, with its growing gap between the privileged few and a declining middle and working class, beginning to resemble the Soviet Union after the 1970s?
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
"Mister One Per Cent" Loses South Carolina Primary
Henry Srebrnik, [Charlottetown, PEI] GuardianNewt Gingrich came from behind to beat Mitt Romney handily in the Republican South Carolina primary last week.
Romney is a casualty of the ‘Occupy' movement, which has highlighted the growing gap between rich and poor in America - the so-called "99 per cent" of the population versus the ultra-rich "one per cent."
Romney has played into the hands of populists with flat-footed statements that demonstrate how out of touch he is in a country where millions are unemployed or having their homes foreclosed.
When asked during the primary contest about his income, this was his answer:
"For the past 10 years, my income comes overwhelmingly from investments made in the past, rather than ordinary income or earned annual income," he responded. "Then, I get speaker's fees from time to time, but not very much."
Not very much? From February 2010 to February 2011, Romney earned $374,327.62 in speaking fees - 10 times what an average worker in South Carolina makes in a year.
But even that is small potatoes. His fortune of about $250 million comes from his time as a "venture capitalist" with Bain Capital.
Romney has now released tax returns indicating that he and his wife, Ann, paid a tax rate of 13.9 per cent in 2010. He is among the top one per cent of taxpayers.
Romney's tax rate is below that of most wage-earning Americans, who may pay as high as 35 per cent, because most of his income flows from capital gains on investments. His holdings include an undisclosed amount in funds based in the Grand Cayman Islands, although his aides say he never used the location as a tax haven.
Romney wasn't a "capitalist" in the classical sense of the term - someone like Henry Ford or Thomas Edison, a businessman who founds a successful manufacturing company.
Following graduation from Harvard with law and business degrees, Romney joined Bain & Co., a global management consulting firm in Boston.
He then co-founded, with rich friends, the spin-off company Bain Capital, a private equity investment firm that became highly profitable by taking over companies and downsizing them in order to make greater profits. This often involved laying off workers, of course.
In other words, Romney simply got friends to pool money in order to buy (and in many cases destroy) companies. He's a child of privilege - how many readers of this article could get rich by first having access to millions of dollars?
Romney has defended Bain's practices by referring to the theory, first popularized by the economist Joseph Schumpeter in his book Capitalism, Socialism and Democracy, of "creative destruction." But Romney deliberately misinterprets the term.
Destroying firms to enrich investors isn't what Schumpeter meant by creative destruction. It refers to the fact that innovative or improved technologies, which create new products, can lead to the demise of firms producing things no longer in demand. They change the capitalist playing field.
When Xerox invented the photocopier, it was the end of the road for producers of carbon paper. The word processor finished off typewriters. And thanks to the digital camera, which doesn't require film, Eastman Kodak has just filed for bankruptcy.
Texas governor Rick Perry (of all people) called what Romney did "vulture capitalism." Even if Romney wins the nomination, given today's economic climate, there's little chance he can become president of the United States.
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Can Romney Win the Presidency?
Henry Srebrnik, [Charlottetown, PEI] Guardian
This coming Saturday, South Carolina will hold its Republican Party primary. The candidates include Mitt Romney, who was victorious in Iowa and New Hampshire; Rick Santorum and Rick Perry, two social conservative Christians, and the more secular Newt Gingrich.
Last week, more than 100 evangelical Christian conservatives gathered in Texas and voted overwhelmingly to rally behind Santorum, to create a united front against Romney. Their problem? Romney's Mormon faith.
Romney is a sixth-generation member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, as the denomination founded in the 19th century by Joseph Smith is officially known.
Mormons consider themselves Christians. However, the theological differences between Mormonism and traditional Christianity are so fundamental, experts say, that they encompass the very understanding of God and Jesus, what counts as Scripture, and what happens when people die.
The Mormon Church maintains that in the early 1800s, its first prophet, Joseph Smith, had revelations that restored Christianity to its true path. He bequeathed to his church volumes of revelations, including the sacred Book of Mormon, which includes an appearance by Jesus in the Americas shortly after his resurrection.
But no other Christian denomination has ever accepted divine revelations that go beyond the two Biblical testaments. After all, Muslims, too, recognize the entire Christian and Jewish Bible as divinely inspired, but also consider the Quran to be the final word of God as revealed to the prophet Muhammad.
Persecuted by other Americans - Smith himself was lynched by a mob in 1844 - the Mormons trekked across the American Great Plains under the leadership of Brigham Young in 1847, and created their own "Zion" by the Great Salt Lake in today's Utah (then still Mexican territory).
Romney's mother comes from Utah, but his father was born in a Mormon colony in Mexico. He is descended from Mormons who came to the Chihuahua desert in 1885 seeking refuge from American anti-polygamy laws.
Polygamy continued in the Mexican colonies after church elders officially banned it in the U.S. in 1890. It was the only way Utah was able to attain statehood six years later.
When it comes to the matter of his faith, Romney's time as a young missionary during his two and a half years in France was apparently pivotal. In a new book, "The Real Romney," Boston Globe journalists Michael Kranish and Scott Helman write that, "Having begun his mission with what he called thin ties to the faith, he became a stalwart believer."
In South Carolina, where about 60 per cent of Republican voters are evangelical Christian Protestants, Romney, a former bishop in the church, faces an electorate that, in many cases, considers Romney's faith apostasy.
It's possible that Romney will overcome this and other hurdles and become the Republican nominee in next November's presidential election. But unless the U.S. economy is at that time in a deep depression, he will lose to President Obama.
Secular people who don't care about any of this are more likely to be Democrats anyhow, whereas the evangelical backbone of much of the Republican Party will, in large numbers, find Romney's faith too hard to ignore.
They won't vote for Obama either, but they'll stay home in large numbers. (Of course African-American evangelicals will vote for Obama.)
In a sense, for many voters, bigotry (objecting to Romney due to his religion) will trump racism (opposing Obama because he is African-American) when they go to the polls.
Henry Srebrnik, [Charlottetown, PEI] Guardian
This coming Saturday, South Carolina will hold its Republican Party primary. The candidates include Mitt Romney, who was victorious in Iowa and New Hampshire; Rick Santorum and Rick Perry, two social conservative Christians, and the more secular Newt Gingrich.
Last week, more than 100 evangelical Christian conservatives gathered in Texas and voted overwhelmingly to rally behind Santorum, to create a united front against Romney. Their problem? Romney's Mormon faith.
Romney is a sixth-generation member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, as the denomination founded in the 19th century by Joseph Smith is officially known.
Mormons consider themselves Christians. However, the theological differences between Mormonism and traditional Christianity are so fundamental, experts say, that they encompass the very understanding of God and Jesus, what counts as Scripture, and what happens when people die.
The Mormon Church maintains that in the early 1800s, its first prophet, Joseph Smith, had revelations that restored Christianity to its true path. He bequeathed to his church volumes of revelations, including the sacred Book of Mormon, which includes an appearance by Jesus in the Americas shortly after his resurrection.
But no other Christian denomination has ever accepted divine revelations that go beyond the two Biblical testaments. After all, Muslims, too, recognize the entire Christian and Jewish Bible as divinely inspired, but also consider the Quran to be the final word of God as revealed to the prophet Muhammad.
Persecuted by other Americans - Smith himself was lynched by a mob in 1844 - the Mormons trekked across the American Great Plains under the leadership of Brigham Young in 1847, and created their own "Zion" by the Great Salt Lake in today's Utah (then still Mexican territory).
Romney's mother comes from Utah, but his father was born in a Mormon colony in Mexico. He is descended from Mormons who came to the Chihuahua desert in 1885 seeking refuge from American anti-polygamy laws.
Polygamy continued in the Mexican colonies after church elders officially banned it in the U.S. in 1890. It was the only way Utah was able to attain statehood six years later.
When it comes to the matter of his faith, Romney's time as a young missionary during his two and a half years in France was apparently pivotal. In a new book, "The Real Romney," Boston Globe journalists Michael Kranish and Scott Helman write that, "Having begun his mission with what he called thin ties to the faith, he became a stalwart believer."
In South Carolina, where about 60 per cent of Republican voters are evangelical Christian Protestants, Romney, a former bishop in the church, faces an electorate that, in many cases, considers Romney's faith apostasy.
It's possible that Romney will overcome this and other hurdles and become the Republican nominee in next November's presidential election. But unless the U.S. economy is at that time in a deep depression, he will lose to President Obama.
Secular people who don't care about any of this are more likely to be Democrats anyhow, whereas the evangelical backbone of much of the Republican Party will, in large numbers, find Romney's faith too hard to ignore.
They won't vote for Obama either, but they'll stay home in large numbers. (Of course African-American evangelicals will vote for Obama.)
In a sense, for many voters, bigotry (objecting to Romney due to his religion) will trump racism (opposing Obama because he is African-American) when they go to the polls.
Monday, January 16, 2012
To Name is to Claim
Henry Srebrnik, [Summerside, PEI] Journal-Pioneer
People of a certain age might remember the rather silly song “Istanbul (Not Constantinople),” first recorded by the Four Lads in 1953. One verse goes like this:
Istanbul was Constantinople
Now it’s Istanbul, not Constantinople
Been a long time gone, Constantinople
Why did Constantinople get the works?
That’s nobody’s business but the Turks
The city of Constantinople, situated between the Black and Mediterranean seas, had been the capital of the Greek Byzantine Empire for more than a thousand years, and is still the seat of the Ecumenical Patriarch of the Greek Orthodox Church. It was conquered by the Ottoman Turks, who were Muslims, in 1453. They would rename it Istanbul and it became the capital of their vast empire.
And despite what the song lyrics say, it may still also be part of the Greeks’ “business.” Peoples have long memories.
The song by the way, also noted that New Amsterdam became New York. That name change occurred in 1664, when the British ousted the Dutch from their colony.
To name, or rename, is to demonstrate hegemony and possession. Such changes have occurred throughout history. The biblical Canaan, for instance, became the land of Israel, which in later centuries was called, by succeeding rulers, Palestine. Part of it is again the modern state of Israel.
Some name changes are the result of decolonization, especially in Africa. The British colony of Gold Coast became Ghana, the name of an ancient empire, when it acquired independence in 1957. Mali, the former French Sudan, was also named for an ancient empire, three years later.
Rhodesia, created by the British imperialist Cecil Rhodes, would clearly have to alter its name upon independence: It became Zimbabwe in 1980, and its capital, Salisbury, became Harare.
In the Congo, Belgian place names were also replaced after 1960. The capital, Leopoldville, named for King Leopold II, became Kinshasa -- and none too soon. Leopold’s harsh regime in the Congo between 1885 and 1908 had been directly or indirectly responsible for the death of millions of people.
In Europe, name changes have often reflected territorial or ideological transformations.
After World War II, when Poland acquired former German territory, the cities of Danzig and Breslau became, respectively, Gdan'sk and Wroc?aw. The Italian city of Fiume, ceded to Yugoslavia, was renamed Rijeka. It is now part of Croatia.
In Canada, the former Berlin, in southwestern Ontario, became Kitchener during World War I. There were similar anti-German name changes elsewhere in Canada and the United States.
Marxist ideology in the new Soviet Union created after the Russian Revolution resulted in many changes, as cities were renamed for Communist heroes: St. Petersburg became Leningrad, Nizhny Novgorod became Gorky, Yekaterinburg was called Sverdlovsk, Tsaritsyn became Stalingrad, and so on.
Ironically, in most cases, the post-Soviet Russian Federation has restored the old tsarist names, though Stalingrad is now Volgograd. For obvious reasons, the Russians have kept the name Kaliningrad, named after a Soviet president, for the Prussian city of Königsberg, captured from the Germans in World War II and annexed to the Soviet Union.
In the former Communist East Germany, the city known from 1953 to 1990 as Karl-Marx-Stadt is once again Chemnitz. However, in Communist Vietnam, the old Saigon is still Ho Chi Minh City.
Even a different way of spelling the same word can indicate a change of status. The city of Montreal, when spelled with an e-acute, as Montréal, changes the sound of the word from “Munt-reeyol” to “Mon-reyal.” This also reflects shifts in political power in Quebec.
Prince Edward Island has had – and maybe still has? – at least three names. To the Mi’kmaq nation it is Abegweit or Epekwitk; when it was ruled by France, it was called Île Saint-Jean; and the British named it for Prince Edward, Duke of Kent, a son of King George III, in 1798.
To name is to claim.
Henry Srebrnik, [Summerside, PEI] Journal-Pioneer
People of a certain age might remember the rather silly song “Istanbul (Not Constantinople),” first recorded by the Four Lads in 1953. One verse goes like this:
Istanbul was Constantinople
Now it’s Istanbul, not Constantinople
Been a long time gone, Constantinople
Why did Constantinople get the works?
That’s nobody’s business but the Turks
The city of Constantinople, situated between the Black and Mediterranean seas, had been the capital of the Greek Byzantine Empire for more than a thousand years, and is still the seat of the Ecumenical Patriarch of the Greek Orthodox Church. It was conquered by the Ottoman Turks, who were Muslims, in 1453. They would rename it Istanbul and it became the capital of their vast empire.
And despite what the song lyrics say, it may still also be part of the Greeks’ “business.” Peoples have long memories.
The song by the way, also noted that New Amsterdam became New York. That name change occurred in 1664, when the British ousted the Dutch from their colony.
To name, or rename, is to demonstrate hegemony and possession. Such changes have occurred throughout history. The biblical Canaan, for instance, became the land of Israel, which in later centuries was called, by succeeding rulers, Palestine. Part of it is again the modern state of Israel.
Some name changes are the result of decolonization, especially in Africa. The British colony of Gold Coast became Ghana, the name of an ancient empire, when it acquired independence in 1957. Mali, the former French Sudan, was also named for an ancient empire, three years later.
Rhodesia, created by the British imperialist Cecil Rhodes, would clearly have to alter its name upon independence: It became Zimbabwe in 1980, and its capital, Salisbury, became Harare.
In the Congo, Belgian place names were also replaced after 1960. The capital, Leopoldville, named for King Leopold II, became Kinshasa -- and none too soon. Leopold’s harsh regime in the Congo between 1885 and 1908 had been directly or indirectly responsible for the death of millions of people.
In Europe, name changes have often reflected territorial or ideological transformations.
After World War II, when Poland acquired former German territory, the cities of Danzig and Breslau became, respectively, Gdan'sk and Wroc?aw. The Italian city of Fiume, ceded to Yugoslavia, was renamed Rijeka. It is now part of Croatia.
In Canada, the former Berlin, in southwestern Ontario, became Kitchener during World War I. There were similar anti-German name changes elsewhere in Canada and the United States.
Marxist ideology in the new Soviet Union created after the Russian Revolution resulted in many changes, as cities were renamed for Communist heroes: St. Petersburg became Leningrad, Nizhny Novgorod became Gorky, Yekaterinburg was called Sverdlovsk, Tsaritsyn became Stalingrad, and so on.
Ironically, in most cases, the post-Soviet Russian Federation has restored the old tsarist names, though Stalingrad is now Volgograd. For obvious reasons, the Russians have kept the name Kaliningrad, named after a Soviet president, for the Prussian city of Königsberg, captured from the Germans in World War II and annexed to the Soviet Union.
In the former Communist East Germany, the city known from 1953 to 1990 as Karl-Marx-Stadt is once again Chemnitz. However, in Communist Vietnam, the old Saigon is still Ho Chi Minh City.
Even a different way of spelling the same word can indicate a change of status. The city of Montreal, when spelled with an e-acute, as Montréal, changes the sound of the word from “Munt-reeyol” to “Mon-reyal.” This also reflects shifts in political power in Quebec.
Prince Edward Island has had – and maybe still has? – at least three names. To the Mi’kmaq nation it is Abegweit or Epekwitk; when it was ruled by France, it was called Île Saint-Jean; and the British named it for Prince Edward, Duke of Kent, a son of King George III, in 1798.
To name is to claim.
Tuesday, January 03, 2012
Four Divided Cities, Then and Now
Henry Srebnik, [Summerside, PEI] Journal-Pioneer
Four major cities were divided due to war in the 20th century. Two are completely reunited, one may someday again face partition, and one remains split in two.
The capitals of Berlin and Vienna were also split into four sectors, though each city was within that country’s Soviet zone.
The American, British, and French zones soon united as West Berlin, while East Berlin became the capital of Communist East Germany.
At first, the border between the Western and Eastern sectors of Berlin remained open, but in August 1961 the Communists built the infamous Berlin Wall, to prevent people escaping the east.
Checkpoint Charlie was the name given to the best-known crossing point and became a symbol of the separation of east and west.
The number of people who died trying to cross the wall during its 29 year existence was well above 200.
The wall was finally opened in November 1989. East and West Berlin were merged one year later with German reunification.
The four-power occupation of Vienna differed in one key respect from that of Berlin: the central area of the city constituted an international zone in which the four powers alternated control on a monthly basis.
During the 10 years of the four-power occupation, Vienna became a hot-bed for international espionage between the Western and Eastern blocs.The four-power control of Vienna lasted until the Austrian State Treaty was signed in 1955, when Austria regained full sovereignty and the city was reunited.
The 1947 United Nations resolution to partition Palestine into an Arab and a Jewish state stipulated the establishment of Jerusalem as a third, internationally administered, separate political body. It was to be a corpus separatum, under a UN‑appointed Governor.
But this never happened. When Israel declared its independence, on May 15, 1948, warfare with its Arab neighbours ensued. While the Jordanian attempt to take West Jerusalem failed, the Arab Legion held on to East Jerusalem, including the walled Old City, which includes the Temple Mount, with the al-Aqsa Mosque and Dome of the Rock; the Western Wall of the Second Jewish Temple; and the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.
A no-man's land between East and West Jerusalem came into being in November 1948. Barbed wire and concrete barriers ran down the center of the city, and a crossing point was established at the Mandelbaum Gate.
In 1967, during the Arab-Israeli Six-Day War, Israel captured East Jerusalem, along with the entire West Bank. East Jerusalem was subsequently annexed.
But Jerusalem remains a deeply divided city of two thoroughly antagonistic and mutually hostile communities who hardly set foot in each other's areas, who hardly communicate with each other, and who live very separate lives, mentally and culturally divided.
However, a repartition of Jerusalem that would involve a return to the 1967 armistice lines would be difficult, as it would necessitate the eviction of some 200,000 Jewish residents of East Jerusalem from their homes.
An alternative to a territorial partition might be a partition of sovereignty, with an open city, so that the existing Arab populated parts of the city would be part of Palestine, and the existing Jewish populated parts of the city would be under Israeli sovereignty. Another version of this “condominium” solution might involve a form of joint sovereignty only over the Old City.
After all, the Jewish and Muslim holy sites (the Western Wall and the Temple Mount) are conjoined, nor can they be surgically separated. In any case, as the Israeli writer Avishai Margalit has asked, how does one divide a symbol?
Nicosia (Lefkosia in Turkish), the largest city in Cyprus, as well as its main business center, is the only divided capital in the world.
The southern section is the capital and seat of government of the Greek-run Republic of Cyprus. The northern part functions as the capital of the self-proclaimed Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus.
During the Turkish invasion of Cyprus in 1974, Turkish troops occupied northern Nicosia (as well as the northern part of Cyprus). A buffer zone, the Green Line, controlled by UN peacekeepers, was established across the island to separate the northern Turkish controlled part of the island from the Greek south.
After many failed attempts on reaching agreement between the two communities, the barrier at Ledra Street was re-opened in April 2008. It became the sixth crossing point between the southern and northern parts of Cyprus.
But the island remains partitioned and with no prospects of political union in the offing, so does Nicosia.
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