PER DiEM (1)

PER DiEM: Can one Save Europe by appealing to Democracy?

Dear Yanis Varoufakis,

Your remedy against the disintegration of Europe is to “democratize Europe”, and make it more transparent.

The trouble is (and you know this as well as anyone) that a democracy is a rickety boat with a host of opinionated pilots, dozens of helmsmen, and a barely effective rudder. Here, in Britain, we should have as good a chance of it working as anywhere, but it does not work here; the pilots give up and the helmsmen squabble among themselves for a hand on the tiller. We are dazzled and exhausted by the barrage of conflicting views presented by the media. We (in Britain) find that most of our votes are not actually represented in the House of Commons, and so are pointless.

Our forthcoming referendum is of course different; for every vote will count.  But it is even more difficult for the average voter to assess the arguments. There is enormous ignorance in the country about the workings of the European Union, and the mechanisms of power.

It is widely held that democracy, while a poor thing, is the best form of government available. We all pay lip-service to DEMOCRACY. But do we truly believe in it? The counterpart of ‘oi demoi’ is ‘oi aristoi’ ; the opposite of democracy is aristocracy. There is a widespread view among the average working person that these difficult matters are best left to the clever few. And that view is, alas, both sensible and largely correct.  

The ‘demos’, though sound on morality, is relatively ignorant of the details of government. This ignorance is inescapable, for there are very few people that can acquire more than a fraction of the information, and hold it long enough to form and assess arguments. Even these few must blindly trust their sources. It is not for wisdom that we turn to the ‘demos’.  Morality, on the other hand, belongs to the ‘demos’; it can scarcely be said to exist except in the  ‘demos’ . Individuals may be high-minded or base, altruistic or selfish; it is only when you average out all the variation that you can conclude what is “right action”. 

Unfortunately, ignorance often trumps morality; the ‘demos’ can be played upon by anyone with adequate rhetorical skills. Hitler marched a nation to war, while our own finance ministers can trick us into cutting taxes, and benefits. (“The worker voting for a tax-cut is like a mouse voting for a mouse-trap, thinking of the cheese.”)  We can hardly rely on the moral compass of the voting public, except in the long term. It might take a decade. It might take a generation.

So, does one have to join the ranks of those trying to manipulate the public?  You travel, and speak. You blog and post videos. You hope that you inspire some. But your message must be essentially simple, clearly honest and patently disinterested.  I wish you well and would like to help.

Windy Weather

     Today is a day of scudding clouds; of brilliant sunshine and pelting rain. The most constant feature seems to be the intermittant wind that 'whistles' round the exposed end of my house. But this is not the ordinary sound of 'whistling' wind, which sounds about as musical as the din you hear when standing on a motorway bridge. My house whistles more like an orchestra. Previous owners seem to have fitted struts that operate like mouthorgan reeds, and television cables that throb like harp-strings. But the triumph, which lifts this house above its peers, are the holes drilled through the brickwork to feed cables from security cameras, vent cisterns and the like. These, when the wind hits precisely the right angle, emit a sound that stops conversation, and brings a startled look to the faces of visitors; sometimes a wail, sometimes a hoot, sometimes high-pitched and sometimes low depending on the bore.

    Even I, who have lived here for nigh-on a year, am amazed when one of these tubes catches a good blast of wind. 

Cawstein

Middleton Cheney

Northamptonshire

Christmas in the Chiapan Highlands

Christmas in the Chiapan Highlands,

The state of Chiapas, the most southerly state in contemporary Mexico, with Guatemala to its east, the Pacific Ocean and Oaxaca state to its west, Veracruz and Tabasco states to the north. It is a country of beautiful mountains and lakes. Its high proportion of fully indigenous inhabitants speak several Mayan languages.

The Chiapans are a proud and rebellious people. Under the first wave of Spanish domination, many chose suicide by jumping to their deaths in a canyon, rather than submission. They have never regarded themselves as truly Mexican, preferring more local loyalties, claiming and occasionally fighting for an independence that is as much cultural as political. Chiapas is still one of the least hispanizado of the states of the Mexican federation, as these people have fought to maintain their own identity and customs. There have been many armed rebellions, for example in 1848, 1868, 1914, 1925 and from 1974 a smouldering unrest that broke out in violence in 1994 (the Zapatista movement, demanding better conditions from the federal government and an end to empty promises).

Samuel Ruiz, for thirty nine years (1960-1999) bishop of the mountainous and largely indigenous diocese of San Cristóbal de las Casas, understood the people and fully supported their claims for respect and better conditions. On first becoming bishop he toured his entire diocese on a mule, and learned several Mayan languages. He espoused the "liberation theology" sweeping through Latin America in the fifties and sixties and encouraged, or at least allowed, the syncretic incorporation of indigenous religious elements into church rituals.

This incorporation of native elements into Roman Catholic ceremonies was particularly strong in smaller towns like San Juan Chamula, some 10 miles from the wonderful small cathedral city of San Cristobal. My friend was able, on one occasion, to take part in the Christmas celebration in San Juan Chamula through the intervention of a colleague, a biologist turned folklorist, who had gained the trust of the local people. It was a memorable experience.

At the end of the previous Christmas festivities, the church's "nativity scene" had been carefully dismantled, and the image of the 'baby Jesus' put into the care of a respected member of the congregation for safe keeping till the following Christmas. So, Christmas proper began each year on Christmas Eve with the dressing of the stored baby in new clothes at the house of the favored custodian, and its transport in solemn procession to the church, where the image of Mary was waiting.

The simple church had no pews or seats and pine branches covered the floor. Round the walls were images of saints, but several had been turned around so that they showed only their backs. It was understood that saints who neglected or bungled their duties could fall into disfavour, tellingly displayed in this way. As could the priest, for the last one sent to the town in 1942 had been killed, and the people were left for the time being to make their own intercessions. 

Most of the townsfolk were expectantly waiting at the church, for the arrival of 'baby Jesus' at midnight. They squatted among the pine branches on the ground around an enormous image of the crucified Christ lying on the floor of the church, wrapped in cloth as though ready for burial. The swathed image perhaps represented the "fallen god" while the infant doubtless represented the promised and hoped-for "renewal". This ritual makes as much sense to me as the 'Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols\ we hear each year from Kings College Chapel, Cambridge.

When the procession arrived, the communal emotion was expressed in the "joyful keening" of the women, who were carrying flowers, candles, and incense burning in clay containers. And of course (it being Mexico), by fireworks. These were simple affairs; essentially gunpowder poured into troughs and set alight. Suitably humble "outsiders" were tolerated, if not positively welcomed. Photography, however, was not allowed. One bold French tourist, who ignored the ban, was attacked and the film ripped out of his camera.

It was an unforgettable experience, and a great privilege to witness a Christmas ceremony held in such awe by a whole community.

Comments welcome, direct to:cawstein@gmail.com

Slovenly Apostrophes

Dear Alex Abramovitch,

I have it in for apostrophes. Of course not all apostrophes. Some are so established as to seem necessary, like those indicating possession (Jenny's long fingers). And the omission of an "o", in words like "can't",  seems relatively inoffensive as you will shortly see. But I hate the "we're", "we've", "it's", "I'd" and their ilk. I would (of course) allow these usages in quotations where that is what the quoted author wrote, and in direct speech where the sound of lazy diction is being captured. But not in standard English prose. I am shocked at the frequency with which these offensive apostrophes occur in The London Review of Books. I note the way they are sprinkled around, as though editorial policy demands them; not quite at random, more clustered, as though the lowly copy editor finds the task boring, or distasteful, as I certainly would. (I take this to be an American influence from the 'parent' organ — The New York Review of Books.) 

[1]  One objection is the momentary confusion created between the slovenly apostrophe and the genitive. [e.g. "As far as Beatty's concerned, there's no 'solution' to the 'race problem'"; c.f. "In the end, Beatty's sellout argues most cogently…"; LRB vol. 38/1 p. 18].

[2]  Another objection is that these shortcuts are ungrammatical; they abolish the verb of the sentence (or phrase). 

[3]  They are ambiguous. We do not immediately know which verb has been eliminated. Does "I'd" mean "I would" or "I had"; does "we're" mean "we are" or "we were"?

[4]  Such writing seems to overlook the fact that we write the 'sense' to be conveyed, not the 'sound'. We do not normally write, "innernashnal", we write "international" as it indicates "between nations"; not "aluminum" or "labatry" but "aluminium or laboratory; unless the slovenliness is what we wish to convey.

[5]   They are slovenly. I do not (in general) say "I've…" or "I'd…"; I say "I have…", or "I would…". 

[6]   And above all, they are unnecessary. I hate having these unnecessary, slurred, ambiguities thrown at me when I read. 

I would be very interested to know if you insert your own apostrophes, or if they are inserted by others during the editorial process.

Yours, 

----

Cawstein

cawstein@gmail.com

Re: The Cobden Centre - The Government Must Stop Printing Phoney Money

Dear Dr. Richard Ebeling, 

You write in the Cobden Centre blog: "In a free society, people in the marketplace should decide what they wish to use as money, not the government."

But we do, do we not! I certainly feel free to use cowrie shells, but find GB£ more convenient at home and pesos more convenient in Mexico. 

In my book, anyone who thinks it would be 'better' to let the rich and powerful freely exploit the poor is either mad, or disgusting. The question is where to draw the line, where to intervene, and where to let greed drive innovation (as it undoubtedly does).

Yours sincerely, 

--

Cawstein, BANBURY

Herbs and herbalists

Yarrow

    In August 1964, freshly graduated in botany, I was staying with my aunt and uncle in Edinburgh while attending the 10th International Botanical Congress. It amused me to see Napier's herbalist shop on the corner opposite the old medical school, as I came and went, attending sessions of the congress nearby; medieval and modern medicine co-habiting. But I had a far more picturesque encounter with Napier himself a few days later which it has been my pleasure these last fifty years to recall and (whenever possible) to recount.

    After the congress finished, not wishing to hang around under the feet of my kind but busy hosts, I decided to visit another uncle who lived at Lochmaben and, being inclined at that stage in my life to solitary walks, I decided to walk down through the border hills. I would travel light, with a tooth brush and a notebook in an old meal-bag and sleep rough when night fell, seeking shelter only if the need arose. Ah, youth!

    I set out across the Pentland hills on a sunny 13th of August, amused at the shooting parties with their dogs, guns and hampers, and descended to the river Tweed at Neidpath Castle around 4 o'clock. I crossed and rested awhile on a shingly spit, to soak in the tranquil beauty and to marvel at my good fortune. There was only one other human in sight, but his strange behaviour aroused my curiosity; he proceeded down the spit at a slow pace stooping frequently. I went over and quizzed him, whereupon he explained that he was gathering yarrow, a year's supply, for he owned the herbalist shop that had piqued my interest earlier in the week. Useful, I learned, for colds, hay-fever, toothache and baldness. I told him that I was a botanist, was interested in the flora, and had seen a good amount of yarrow on my way thither. Had I, he asked, seen any Euphrasia? He usually managed each year to find what he needed, but this year he was short of dainty little "Eyebright", essential for making up his eye ointment. I confessed I had not, and mused privately for a few moments on how the appearance of plants had suggested their various uses.

     Refreshed and grateful, I wished him goodbye and set off southwards up the Manor Water to sleep eventually on a bed of bracken by a ruined castle.

--

Cawstein

Negotiate with Syria

I should like to draw attention to my post of 11 March 2012 (Assad and Syria); it does not seem to have been overtaken by events, and is today (24^th November 2015) as relevant as ever.

Last year (23 Nov 2014) I wrote an open letter to Assad (shown below) which still seems to me a workable approach to negotiations between the current Syrian government and the UN or NATO, or whoever thinks they should be consulted concerning the internal affairs of Syria.

Dear President Bashar Al Assad,

If I were a member of your negotiating team I would be inclined to argue:

[1] The Assad regime is still the legal (and de facto) government of Syria;

[2] It subscribes to the UN charter, and believes that the charter explicitly limits the interference by other countries in Syrian internal affairs;

[3] Syria has conceded that chemical weapons are very widely abhorred and that those have been voluntarily eschewed by your government;

[4] You warn against the view that the democratic form of government, evolved over the last 300 years in certain Atlantic countries, is necessarily successful in other countries;

[5] You could point out that the legal ‘right’ of Cromwell to kill King Charles I, or of the USA to usurp the governance of Hawaii, rested on the power of arms, and was in no way democratic;

[6] You would like the United Nations to accept the legitimacy of your regime "as being the government most favoured among the alternatives by the people of Syria";

[7] You would like the support of the UN in preventing arms trafficking and the infiltration of insurgents across Syrian borders;

[8] To obtain this co-operation you concede that an internationally supervised plebiscite be held to obtain the views of legitimate Syrian nationals to confirm (or negate) the legitimacy of the Al Assad government.

Yours sincerely, Ian West

BANBURY, OX17 2NB,