The LongBow Papers

Liberal-oriented columns, commentary and archived articles on national and international news, politics, and the communication arts--with emphasis on China--by Joseph Bosco, author, journalist, director and actor; Professor of Drama and Communications at Beijing Foreign Studies University.

Friday, July 28, 2006

When Tranquility and Beauty Reigned at 509 Front Beach Drive

4:25 PM

Of late, I have had reason to think only with sadness about my family and its home on Front Beach Drive, Ocean Springs, Mississippi. My beautiful sister Sylvia Bosco, being the towering pillar of strength she has been throughout our lives, struggles with the recovery from Katrina's viciousness, with yet another hurricane season at hand, and I remain useless to her so very far away in China. The least I can do, for my own sanity and self-respect, and in her honor if nothing else, is post a few pictures that show just how beautiful and tranquil the Mississippi Gulf Coast can truly be, particularly the Bosco family's small part of it.

The pictures below are from Easter, 2004. They follow one gorgeous spring day from morning to night; I was not present, of course, I have been gone for a very long time. This was true well before I came to China four years ago. In the decade before that, I lived and wrote in Los Angeles.

But then I really left 509 Front Beach Drive 38 years ago, when I became a husband and father at the age of 19 and moved across the bay to Biloxi; then came New York City; college at Hattiesburg, Mississippi; New York City again, as an actor; Biloxi again; then some two decades in New Orleans where Linda and I raised our son Joseph, before the Simpson murders took me to Los Angeles in 1994 and my goofy, tumultuous destiny and far-flung journeys ever since.

This picture is of the sand and sea grass in front of our family home in the bright light of a cloudless mid-day. I haven't a clue what that colorful thing sitting there is; but the color juxtapositions are magnificent, so I can only assume that Sylvia, who is a most accomplished artist, put it there for that very purpose.

This wonderful picture from inside the renovated beach house features several terrific themes: the beauty of what my sister did with the old house, which was built in 1893; Sylvia's lifelong love of critters of every kind; and my niece Reagan's love of same, but also her profession; my so lovely niece is a very distinguished veterinarian much in demand. I like the bird myself, though we never met. On the far wall, right beside Reagan's sweet face, you will notice a "good luck and good harmony" Chinese woven-and-braided ornament we gave to mom on our first visit back to the states from China--would that it had worked.

Here we see more of the family room and kitchen of the house, Sylvia, Reagan, the bird, and in the far right my mother Wilma Bosco, who turned 80 this past May. Mom was a Florida bathing beauty that could stop traffic for blocks just by crossing a street. On the wall, just above mom, hangs one of Sylvia's finest paintings. Very few artists alive today can paint with such realistic precision, but also an almost perfect sense of abstract form and color that requires no contextual narrative--Mr. Wyeth comes to mind, but very few others. It was lost forever in Katrina's walls of water driven by locomotive winds of such force they literally changed the topography of a piece of land that had withstood everything thrown its way by nature for centuries, long before the white man came in the 17th Century.

This picture is just before dusk and features Sylvia and my nephew Julian, the second son from the marriage of my sister to Ricky Davis, one of the best running backs and all around tough-as-nails football players the Ocean Springs Greyhounds ever had. He was one of the 2 or 3 closest friends I had in life in those years so long ago, along with being a teammate who could hit you like a freight train, spin and be gone. Julian, like his father Ricky, is a very successful engineer and businessman in Atlanta, Georgia.

This extraordinary photograph is of Reagan sitting on the seawall in front of the house at dusk. No other description is needed.

This picture is from only a short time later, with the sunshine all but gone completely from another beautiful day in Ocean Springs, Mississippi, which, if there is a God, he or she must surely call home.

This photograph is from that night when Julian, and a lovely young lady whom I am embarrassed to say I do not know, are enjoying the hot tub Sylvia designed and placed in what was once the corner of the screened in porch where she and I would play Monopoly games that lasted for days.

* * *
It breaks my heart a little more each day that these people whom I love are not only so very far away from me in distance, but that because of my politics, disbeliefs and lifestyle, I am heretical to them. Most surely it also is the fruit of an old-time bigotry and intolerance of anything one cannot hold firmly in gripping hands because it means having the courage to change one's mind almost daily. That is how fast the world and our knowledge of it changes.

This inability of nimbleness of thought is something that will never leave the south substantially in my lifetime because of the poverty of its schools and the poverty of intellect in its political leadership. Consequently, my blood family--other than my son, thank God--are mostly estranged from me and have been for years. Sometimes quite bitterly; this is just another one of those many times--but it depresses me more each time because it grows increasingly ugly with each turn of their baiting, ignorant screw.

Although, I must say that nothing can ever truly separate me and my sister; we are only 22 months apart in age and almost every good memory I have from the first two decades of life includes her prominently. She is 'Sis,' I love her unconditionally and without end. Now that I am alone in China, I miss her and Reagan, who is so much like her, more than ever with each passing day. While it is not equally reciprocated as often as I would like, that love and respect is there and always will be, and I know it.

4:25 PM / Editor / permalink 2 comments

Thursday, July 27, 2006

If the Words Below Do Not Break Your Heart, You Don't Have One

12:00 PM

No matter which side you place yourself on in the Israel versus Hezbollah tragegy, the words below, spoken by Prime Minister Fouad Siniora of Lebanon, in "a cry of despair" after the cease-fire talks in Rome stalled principally due to American intransigence regarding the future of Hezbollah, as reported in The New York Times, must break your heart. It should also make you wonder why Bush and Company are basically saying to Israel: We've got your back. Kill as many Hezbollah as you can as quickly as you can, but do it thoroughly; you have the time.

Below is only a snippet of an article you need to read in The New York Times:

"Is the value of human life less in Lebanon than that of citizens elsewhere?" he asked. "Are we children of a lesser god? Is an Israeli teardrop worth more than a drop of Lebanese blood?"

Accusing Israel of "barbaric destruction," he vowed to seek justice, announcing that Lebanon would begin legal proceedings for war reparations.

Continue reading at The New York Times.

12:00 PM / Editor / permalink 2 comments

Wednesday, July 26, 2006

It's a Real Estate Deal, Stupid

5:08 PM

By Leslie Collings

As I sit here in my apartment, in Beijing, China, far away from any sort of war zone, I am confronted with the disgusting images and morbid sights of yet another Middle East killing field, while a succession of CNN TV news commentators vary the presentation, each in their own way, for maximum viewer satisfaction, curiosity and voyeuristic excitement. Yes, it is totally disgusting that supposedly civilized and intelligent people, not only like watching war and horror, but also applaud political commentators, military experts, pontificating government officials and so called power people, who wring their hands while constantly coming out with a repetitive mantra of their own convenient opinion.

Man's inhumanity to man? It is endless in its constant reality of just how bad and cruel the human race can be to itself. I am amazed that CNN has 20 correspondents, yes, 20 of them, covering this 'Middle East Crisis.' They have practically cleaned out their ability to cover news in any other location, anywhere else in the world, just to make sure they can show every gory detail and enable viewers to listen to every dramatic word of war. Why does a major news channel behave in such a manner? Is it because they are an American news channel? Or perhaps they are complying with State Department instructions; well perhaps it is a request only but...better do it!

I have never, in all my life--and I've been around quite awhile--heard so much garbage and sheer drivel, spoken by supposedly educated and intelligent people, constantly, 3 or 4 times an hour every hour! Add to that low rated collection, pomposity on a grand scale from the Prime Minister of Israel, the usual 'cowboy gait' from George 'what again' Bush, with his standard uneducated line lambasting Syria, Iran, and Hezbollah, courtesy of Condi Rice, and her complete disregard for the historic injustices of the past throughout the whole region.

More than 30 years of intransigence and all because of a patch of undulating land covered in rocks, which participants to the 'we want the biggest piece' brigade, have offered just platitudes, bullets from the end of U.S. made guns, and home made bombs constructed by nimble fingers in desperation. Democracy for all is the cry, while not even one group has ever got it right.

It is a Real Estate Deal. That is what it is all about. Of course, plus control of the water flowing down the middle of it and that is not a little issue. If all the parties could (they never will of course) sit around a table with a big map of the whole area with its current borders set out according to all parties and then give and take until a new map was agreed upon? Wow! That really would be something. However, don't hold your breath waiting as Israel and the USA, which the Jewish lobby influences so cleverly through funding the political system in America, act like spoilt little children, only wanting everything their way.

How absolutely insane can grown up people be? Bush preaches hate of Hezbollah. He does it constantly and wants them totally removed from the map of players. He demands and his other heartbeat Condi Rice concurs, urged on by the Israelis, that Hezbollah must stop all action immediately, give up, fade away and suffer total ignominy. What is even worse, he actually believes it will happen. Stupid, stupid little person. I can't call him a man with that kind of attitude. He has learnt nothing from history, but then most sensible people already realize his limitations.

History in China and their culture provides an excellent analogy. Yes, I live in China and have learnt over the years the wise and sometimes intractable attitudes they have to statements they make. Take for example the matter of Taiwan. China has said and most of the world agrees with them, that Taiwan is an inalienable part of China. It is and China will never, never, ever, reverse that fact and go back on its word. It is quite impossible. To do so would be to lose face Big Time. And that simply could never happen.

Hezbollah is now an integral part of Lebanon. It is part of the government of Lebanon. It looks after the people, nurses them when sick, provides education for the children, cares for the needy and is a cornerstone of social services in Lebanon. For them to back away and run, to give up their arms and run, is impossible. It could simply never happen. The lesson from China clearly illustrates what is reality.

Hezbollah will never quit. They will remain as an integral part of Lebanon and if the real estate in the region is cut up and redrawn fairly, peace will prevail. Israel will never be allowed to be the only viable army in the region. No way. Perhaps Hezbollah will become the biggest part of the Lebanese army. So what is wrong with that, other than twisting Bush's nose out of place and causing the strutting Prime Minister of Israel to continue behaving and looking like some maniacal, blood thirsty dictator of years past?

Perhaps the one good idea that Israel has come up with is their idea of building a very high wall to keep the Palestinians out, they say, and Israel safe. I subscribe to the opposite view. The high wall will keep Israel behind it and hidden from view, where they can enjoy their rocks and keep paying for their mobilized army, without bothering others.

Peace can then prevail across the region and the real estate fairly re-allocated.

Leslie Collings, a most proper Englishman, has spent most of the last 5 decades living in East Asia. He first starting doing business on the Mainland of China not too long after Nixon left, and he's done rather well at it. We are again grateful that more of his writing and somewhat iconoclastic thoughts on the current state of this old spinning rock he knows so well appears in these pages.

5:08 PM / Editor / permalink 4 comments

Tuesday, July 25, 2006

Torture by Rendition: They Do This In Our Name!

4:15 PM

Citizens of a nation need not have blood on their hands or horrific hate in their hearts to be guilty of crimes so base they belie their right to be considered civilized human beings. Goddamn every one of us.

Only a little more than half a century ago--within the lifetime of almost half of all American citizens--we denied the "Good German" the excuse of saying: "But we did not know," or, "We were only following orders." We put many of them on trial for war crimes and hung and imprisoned a bunch because they did know and did nothing or helped only a little bit out of a sense of duty. We did the same to Japanese who also denied complicity in crimes against humanity.

We are reading the TRUTH every day in our newspapers. We know. And we do NOTHING. Or even help a little bit out of a sense of 'duty' to the 'war on terror.' How about the men and women who fly the "rendition" planes? The men and women who type the paper work? The men and women who render food and supplies to these "know nothing" functionaries? What about you? What about that man over there waiting for a bus? What about me? You know. He knows. I know. Goddamn us one and all.

Who is going to put us and our leaders on trial and punish us for this barbarity? We have sunk to the level of those who hate and attack us. Where, when and how did we stop being that so special breed of people--Americans?

Of course, many people around this world say we never were so special. Maybe they are right. But once upon a time I believed it. If you are like most American citizens you probably still do. Then do something. Say something. Please.

Or, perhaps Mr. Jefferson was right. Perhaps we have reached that point in a nation's ongoing history where revolution is necessary, again. Rendition that Mr. Bush.

I can say no more at this moment; I am too ashamed. Please read the short Associated Press piece below and share my shame.

Jordan Accused of Torturing Suspects for US

The Associated Press

Sunday 23 July 2006

London -- Security agents in Jordan are torturing terrorism suspects on behalf of the United States in hopes of forcing confessions, the human rights watchdog Amnesty International contended in a new report Monday.

The report said its investigators had identified about 10 suspected cases of men subjected to rendition from U.S. custody to interrogation centers in Jordan, a close U.S. ally in the Middle East.

"Jordan appears to be a central hub in a global complex of secret detention centers operated by the U.S. in coordination with foreign intelligence agencies," said Malcolm Smart, director of Amnesty's Middle East and North Africa unit and an author of the report.

The United States has consistently said it does not permit suspects to be shipped to countries that practice torture.

The report said more than 100 defendants in terrorism-related trials in Jordan have complained over the past decade of being subjected to torture by Jordan's General Intelligence Department.

The Amnesty report called on Jordan to end its practice of holding suspects in secrecy, reduce the powers of the General Intelligence Department, promptly investigate and punish any cases of torture and stop participating in U.S. renditions.

In June, a Council of Europe investigator concluded that most European states had facilitated the rendition of terrorism suspects from U.S. custody to interrogation centers in Jordan and at least three other countries: Egypt, Poland and Romania.

Britain and the United States dismissed the report, saying it lacked firm new evidence.

U.S. officials have acknowledged flying up to 150 of the most serious suspected terrorists from one country to another, but said they receive "diplomatic assurances" from authorities that they will not use torture on the detainees they receive.

In an 87-page report filed in January with a United Nations committee, the United States insisted it is "unequivocally opposed" to torture and that its commitment to the ban "remains unchanged."

The January report said President Bush "has made clear that the United States stands against and will not tolerate torture under any circumstances."

A tip of the keyboard to Jayne Lyn Stahl for alerting me to this piece.

4:15 PM / Editor / permalink 12 comments

Thursday, July 20, 2006

Blood Wedding in Beirut

10:19 AM

By Jayne Lyn Stahl

"What is happening in Lebanon today is yet another chapter of
bloody Middle East events that will last for generations to
come, because it is impossible, after so many years of conflict, for
the Israelis and the Arabs to forgive and forget."
Sami Moubayed
(Asia Times)

Early last month, I went to the 140th anniversary party for The Nation, in Beverly Hills, an event which also honored the life and work of journalist Robert Scheer. For years, I've made the pilgrimage from San Francisco to Los Angeles by car, but this time, since it was going to be such a short trip, I decided to fly, cab it around town, and then take Super Shuttle back to the airport.

So, on my way home, on the morning of Friday, June 8th, I stood in my hotel lobby, on Sunset Boulevard, waiting for Super Shuttle to show up. The driver, a fellow by the name of Hassan, was surprisingly punctual despite his difficulty in finding parking directly in front of the hotel. He was delighted to see me standing at the door of the hotel waiting for him. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said, "but I'm parked across the street in front of the Hyatt. If you wait here, I'll be right back." "No, no," I interrupted, "I'll cross the street with you." "You don't mind?" he asked. "Not in the least. It'll take you 10 minutes to make it round the corner of La Cienega and Sunset. I'll go with you" whereupon we both embarked on the journey across many lanes of West Hollywood traffic.

Hassan was well-groomed, if desultory; a man who looked to be in his mid to late 50's, the kind of man who was, doubtless, impetuous in his youth, aimlessly so, and clearly disinterested in how he appeared to others. A self-possessed and, in many regards, self-contained man, Hassan was someone who asked, and expected, little or nothing from others.

"Where are you going?" He asked as he helped me across the street. "Jetblue, to Oakland," I told him. "We need to make one other stop--a lady who wants to go to LAX," he added.

The other passenger, a woman, in her late 30's, of German descent, was on her way to Amsterdam. I was happy to share the fact that my surname is German, which she already knew, as well as that it is as accidental as my birth. "Yes, yes, I know, your name means steel or iron," she stammered apparently more concerned with the vibrations from her cell phone than anything I had to say. I knew the driver was from the Middle East, but I couldn't decide if he was from Iran, or if he was Christian or Muslim. He, on the other hand, recognized the big apple in me, but seemed conflicted about my ancestry.

We all got quickly immersed in discussions about how times have changed everywhere, how women are more accomplished, mobile, and less professionally, as well as socially, limited. Our German friend interjected a simple "yah, yah" from time to time, but I noticed Hassan staring at me quizzically from time to time as if trying to remember my name, but surely it wasn't my name he was wondering about.

Finally, I summoned my courage, and asked where he was from, and how long he'd been living in Los Angeles, "Are you Persian?" "Oh, no, I'm not from Iran," he said, "I'm from Lebanon." I wondered where in Lebanon. "Beirut." He'd been living in this country for nearly 20 years, and was planning to return to Beirut in July for a wedding. His nephew was getting married to his childhood sweetheart. He would fly home to Beirut for the celebration, and see members of his family for the first time in many years. The wedding would have taken place around the time Israel bombed the Beirut International Airport, from what I recall, on July 13th. His cell phone rang, and he spoke eagerly, if urgently, with his son, an engineering student at UC Davis, about plans for the wedding.

Sparks came from Hassan's eyes as he looked deeper, and deeper at me. "You must be very proud to be from Lebanon," I told him in an effort to diffuse things. He smiled the kind of smile that makes one's face melt. By now, it had become clear to him that I was from New York, and he, no doubt, knew all the stereotypes about women with curly hair and large hazel eyes, who gesture a lot, and maybe, yes, maybe, a Jewess, and maybe...

"Do you mind if I drop this other lady off first, and then take you to Long Beach Airport?" Hassan asked. "No, not at all, whatever is easier." Our German friend clung to her cell phone as if to a life raft. We dropped her off, and Hamad noticed that she had no suitcase. "She must live in Amsterdam, but she mentioned her husband was at the hotel." We decided she must be married to a rich American executive, someone who gives her free rein to travel, and who doesn't even care if her mascara runs. We laughed. Slowly that puzzled look which, when you press the pause button, could pass for contempt started to fade like a shock of red hair in the sun.

"Tell me about Beirut; your family, your history." He spoke of the bombings, 30 years ago, the city's renaissance, a phoenix rising from the flames. He dared not ask nor mention Israel. I asked him to name all his brothers and sisters from Lebanon who I might know--the actors, musicians, song writers, directors. "Oh, Danny Thomas, how I loved that man!" All the while we spoke, he looked at me through the rear view mirror, and his eyes became a smile finding its way to morning.

All of a sudden, I felt like I wanted to cry out "I'm a Jew, but not an Israeli. I'm so sorry for your hometown; for the bombings, I would never go along, not for a minute, not with any of it. Murder is murder regardless of context." Instead, I held his hand for what seemed an eternity when he reached for my solitary red suitcase. We looked each other deep in the eye, and smiled. Yes, yes, we are of the same race, Semitic, yes, that, too, but more important, the human race.

More than 200 people have died already because of this war which, on balance, is no different from all the other eruptions in the name of national autonomy since 1948. It was reported, this morning, that Hezbollah launched rockets into Israel in retaliation for Israeli bombing of Beirut. This cycle of vengeance, and misunderstanding, that pits Sh'ite against Christian, Muslim against Jew, can only end in death and destruction for all. It is a cycle of shame, a shame that we all share, a disgrace that permeates every last inch of us, the least and the greatest who, in the final analysis, will share the same fate.

Yet, somehow, strangely enough, on a shuttle bus, en route to the airport, across Los Angeles, two total strangers confronted their differences, and embraced them, with the growing knowledge that we are of the same race, the human race, one quickly pushing inexorably toward its own extinction.

Hassan, wherever you are now, I think of your nephew's wedding, in Beirut, last week, and the twinkle in your eyes when you spoke, with pride, of your son. I want you to know how deeply ashamed to be, in any way, related to those who drop bombs that take the lives of small children, brides and grooms, just as I know you share my shame for those who wreak destruction on Israel.

Wherever you are now, Hassan, should you be reading this, know that I stand shoulder to shoulder with you now, in our shared humanity, I look you in the eye, Hassan, with the knowledge that we must do whatever it takes to stop this devastation, and keep it from happening to your hometown, and mine, ever again.

On a Super Shuttle that quiet Thursday morning, in early June, if nothing else, a Muslim driver and a Jewish passenger learned that it may yet be possible to forgive and forget, and that waging war isn't called an "offensive" for nothing. Now if only evolution were as efficient as devolution and vision outlive blindness.

Jayne Lyn Stahl is a treasured friend. More importantly, she is one of America's most renowned wordsmiths and the founder of the writer's free press advocacy organization Writers-at-Large; she is an exceedingly accomplished and awarded poet, playwright, screenwriter, essayist, and blogger.

Because the Blogspot network--and LadyJayne's Blog--is blocked in China, The LongBow Papers is honored to again have her work grace these pages and be available to all of our readers. Thank you, Jayne.

NOTE: For those to whom it matters, there have been deletions and an addition to the comment thread on this post.

10:19 AM / Editor / permalink 4 comments

The Dreaded Glove

10:05 AM

By Leslie Collings

Chinese food is my delight. I love it and embrace it with my taste buds roaring in unison as a wide selection of delectable dishes begin arriving at the feasting table of the moment. I cannot really imagine why there are some people who do not entirely agree with my view about this subject but, of course, it takes all sorts to make a world and I am gratuitous enough to let them have theirs too. Most of the time.

I've sat at big round tables, where the quality of the food was almost taken over by the top level laundering and starchiness of the table cloth and napkins. Some restaurants really go over the top with presentation, but I'm not adverse to the idea of a high quality presentation of the table. On the contrary, it leads me to believe that especially creative delicacies of high quality food and Oh...! Those inevitable choices will shortly be coming into view and placed on the table, within easy reach of my chopsticks, poised at the ever ready position, in my left hand.

Yes, I'm a lefty. And proud of it. If nothing else, in China it is almost a certainty, that if it is noticed at the table by a zealous Chinese person, I can almost hold my breath and wait with sureness that more air will not be necessary, before a voice says; "I'm told that left handed people are very intelligent, is that true?" I usually manage a slight nod, in a sort of careless manner and try to almost (never totally) ignore it. A half smile with a nod is enough. The only difficulty I normally have to face is with the fellow diner on my left side, as we tend to get ready for a joust with 'chopsticks at one meter.'

I enjoy most of the many tastes of Chinese food and am constantly amazed at the way Chinese cooks are able to prepare a veritable feast, which really does taste damn good while noting the ingredients are often such simple things in life, like cabbage, potato, bean shoots, noodles and much more. Those bell peppers become a decorating set with their colors of yellow, green and red, while never being too hot to handle 'down there' where your belly disappears beneath the edge of the tablecloth. As for the nasty little deep red peppers, they will assault and do damage to that part of you in nanoseconds!

Always beware of unusual situations when walking into very strangely decorated restaurants. They are likely to be owned and operated by a family with a flair and special taste for the unusual. I mean, if you see dogs tied up with a muzzle on, a monkey in a cage or what appears to be a table of unusual looking pieces of meat...stop. Think of your health, your own dog at home on his rug (you hope!) and give some thought as to why a restaurant would have such a collection of animals and meat parts.

True, you are unlikely to see such strange situations these days, but never lower your guard. If you do not like something you are offered, just politely shake your head slowly and gracefully decline the opportunity offered. Your host will not be offended, though he may smile one of those famous Chinese smiles.

Recently, I was invited to dinner in a very high quality restaurant. I had spent the afternoon with my Chinese business friend in his nearby office and also talking with another Chinese friend of his, who is a very senior level executive in one of China's growing list of 'was small, now huge companies.' Discussions and to a certain extent, some actual negotiations, had taken place in a cordial and friendly atmosphere. Yes, things were going well and now it was time for dinner. The Chinese love to host a dinner and they do it so well too. It was going to be just the three of us.

The menus were dealt out by hovering staff and I watched as the pages were examined and turned. Nowadays, it is quite common to see big menus with photographs of all the dishes and the menu itself can be more than a handful to hold, look at and turn the pages. Older ladies beware! At some point during this ritual--which takes ages, believe me, making a quick culinary decision does not come easily to Chinese people--my friend and host asked me a question. Do you like duck feet?

I instantly had a vision of a bony and sinewy foot and the inevitable gristly taste and though I did not choke, I did manage to smile feebly and say, "No thanks, not today." I might well have muttered something under my breath too, but, the danger had passed, so no problem...or so I thought. Some beer arrived--we had collectively declined wine, so that commenced a round of clinking glasses together. It is exasperating on occasion, to be almost dying of thirst, when protocol says you must wait for your host to be the first to lift his glass. Then you all put your glass towards the centre of the table and clink them together. I've often thought that many a good dinner has probably been irreparably damaged by glasses 'smashing' against each other, with obvious dire consequences.

Some very nice dishes were duly delivered, all the staff was most attentive and dinner was proceeding just fine. Then, a waiter put a plastic glove, right next to my chopstick holder on my left side. Instantly I knew I was in trouble. Either my "No thank you" message had not got through or, most likely, my friend had chosen to ignore it. I could say he forgot or overlooked it, but that is too kind. I concluded he wanted the main guest to enjoy what was coming next. Duck feet!

I forced a smile and examined my plastic glove. I sort of played with it, turned it over and discovered an important piece of useless information. The glove would work/fit on either hand, left or right. On the left side, the little finger is high, but if you turn it over, it also works for the right hand. Okay, lecture finished! Then, there it was, the duck foot, placed in front of me on the top side of the plate, stretching across like claws (which they are) sitting in a sea of what appeared to be light brown gravy. Worse, below it and towards the lower edge of the plate and nearest to me, was a 6 inch long, shiny, black thing. Perhaps an inch thick and looking positively evil. My instant recall system took me back years to gardening in my fathers' treasured garden and seeing how black slugs had decimated his lettuce. My God, one had escaped!

What could I do? I was trapped between the polite training of an Englishman, the stubbornness of a friend and the possibility of upsetting a surely, big potential client. I slid the glove onto my left hand, reached out and through the light brown gravy, grasped hold of the duck foot. I didn't ponder to question if it was the left or right foot. Then with a brave smile I put it to my mouth and tried to suck the cover off the bones. I can tell you it is not easy. My hand felt somehow disconnected and I started to squirm, but I held on and persevered. Then, after placing the beaten duck foot on the side of my plate, which now looked like a small collection of bones, I gazed, with hate in my heart at the long black slug--actually they call it a sea cucumber--but it sure did not look like anything I'd ever allow to be in a sandwich.

Needs must and duty calls. I asked for a knife and fork, which were delivered quickly, the staff simply must have known due to my giveaway look of horror. I still had the dreaded glove on, but now I was about to enjoy something. I cut the black monster into about a dozen pieces, imported some rice from a bowl onto my plate and buried the pieces of 'sea cucumber' under rice. Then, I was able to almost innocuously and slowly eat it up. Never let it be said I do not eat all my food...when I must.

The glove finally came off and I placed it on the plate, almost as if it was a cover for my decimation of an enemy and I was being gracious in victory. I've since concluded that the best use for a plastic glove is to slip one on when you are about eat some succulent ribs, be they beef or lamb. It sure feels good to get hold of something you enjoy.

Leslie Collings, a most proper Englishman, has spent most of the last 5 decades living in East Asia. He first starting doing business on the Mainland of China not too long after Nixon left, and he's done rather well at it.

10:05 AM / Editor / permalink 0 comments

Tuesday, July 11, 2006

The End of the Bush Revolution -- Remember, You Read it Here First

6:48 PM

Is it possible that Kingfish Georgie the 2nd's misrule over the land of the free and the home of the brave is grinding to an ignominious halt in its own ruts--not to mention the 5 billion plus souls who had no opportunity to vote for or against him but whose lives were most assuredly affected by the worst American president in well over a hundred years? Some pretty damn smart people are stepping up onto the soapbox and saying that it is.

A significant case in point is the article excerpted and linked to below. I know that most of you live lives far too happily busy to find, subscribe to, or read, relatively non-commercial analysis from sectors of the exceedingly established, but not really considered a part of, MSM (main stream media, a phrase I dislike as much as the acronym I just used prior to it). Well, dear friends, here you can--btw, if you read these pages, you are my friend, make no mistake about that, regardless of your ideological persuasion, I cherish every set of eyeballs that drop in.

Please begin reading some very insightful analysis and then click on through for the whole story:

The End of the Bush Revolution

Foreign Affairs, July 2006

Philip H. Gordon, Senior Fellow, Foreign Policy Studies (The Brookings Institution)

A RETURN TO REALISM

Reading over President George W. Bush's March 2006 National Security Strategy, one would be hard-pressed to find much evidence that the president has backed away from what has become known as the Bush doctrine. "America is at war," says the document; we will "fight our enemies abroad instead of waiting for them to arrive in our country" and "support democratic movements and institutions in every nation and culture," with the ultimate goal of "ending tyranny in our world."

Talk to any senior administration official, and he or she will tell you that the president is as committed as ever to the "revolutionary" foreign policy principles he spelled out after 9/11: the United States is fighting a war on terror and must remain on the offensive and ready to act alone, U.S. power is the foundation of global order, and the spread of democracy and freedom is the key to a safer and more peaceful world. Bush reiterated such thinking in his 2006 State of the Union address, insisting that the United States will "act boldly in freedom's cause" and "never surrender to evil."

But if the rhetoric of the Bush revolution lives on, the revolution itself is over. The question is not whether the president and most of his team still hold to the basic tenets of the Bush doctrine�they do�but whether they can sustain it. They cannot. Although the administration does not like to admit it, U.S. foreign policy is already on a very different trajectory than it was in Bush's first term. The budgetary, political, and diplomatic realities that the first Bush team tried to ignore have begun to set in.

The reversal of the Bush revolution is a good thing. By overreaching in Iraq, alienating important allies, and allowing the war on terrorism to overshadow all other national priorities, Bush has gotten the United States bogged down in an unsuccessful war, overstretched the military, and broken the domestic bank. Washington now lacks the reservoir of international legitimacy, resources, and domestic support necessary to pursue other key national interests.

It is not too late to put U.S. foreign policy back on a more sustainable course, and Bush has already begun to do so. But these new, mostly positive trends are no less reversible than the old ones were. Another terrorist attack on the United States, a major challenge from Iran, or a fresh burst of misplaced optimism about Iraq could entice the administration to return to its revolutionary course� with potentially disastrous consequences.

View Full Article (PDF--186kb)

Copyright 2006 Council on Foreign Relations

6:48 PM / Editor / permalink 8 comments

Friday, July 07, 2006

Chinapolers - Philip Cunningham Responds

11:20 AM

The one or two personal shots I received were well worth it. What I hoped for has happened; Phil Cunningham has written a response. I have removed the opening graph, which contained only warm pleasantries between good friends. I left the final pleasantry because I am not totally altruistic and appreciate a compliment from such a source as much as the next fellow. It is my pleasure to present Philip Cunningham:

This Chinapol teapot tempest has a slightly unreal quality here in my little cottage in the Japanese countryside, surrounded by the greenest rice fields you've ever seen, chirping frogs, lightning bugs and mist-covered hills.

The place is isolated enough to be outside of NTT's internet range and I have to bike down the road to the nearest campus to get on line. I'm sitting outside now enjoying a summer evening and the beauty of wireless internet.

I'm not sure to what extent I want to pursue the Chinapol thread, though some of those who posted on Danwei, especially Chinapolers like ymc (of the US Naval War Academy, trying to insinuate himself into being a chum of Rumsfeld and Cheney) inspires me to give it another try. There are a few other recognizable Chinapol voices showing up, and lots more who are writing letters of support and solidarity, albeit in private communications.

As for the rather vitriolic posts from laowai who apparently spend a considerable amount of time watching CCTV the sarcastic comments for the most part seem to be a delayed payment (in addition to the honorariums just big enough to buy bagels and cream cheese) for being one of the "guys of Dialogue."

I first got to know CCTV staffers as a Knight International Journalism fellow doing journalism outreach in China. In my talks and consultations, I continually stressed the desirability of going live and presenting more than one point of view and urged them not be afraid to disagree, but to do so agreeably on TV and to my surprise they asked me to put my money where my mouth was, that is to say, they asked me to be on the show.

That was the beginning of a professional and private association with CCTV that I continue to be proud of. Chinese television is not only improving with time, but there's a real desire on the part of newscasters and talk show hosts such as Yang Rui and Tian Wei to raise the bar higher and higher. Thus, the mostly snarky viewer comments, written mostly in ignorance, don't bother me much, though if any of those posters were sincerely interested in "dialogue" it would be easy to clear up some of the more elementary misunderstandings.

Am I really so far to the left, or have things swung madly to the right? I'm not at all anti-US, though I am highly critical of the petro-junta that has taken charge of Washington and shamelessly exploited 9-11 to narrow partisan ends.

I rather liked President Clinton in his first term, I saw him in Tokyo when he first visited in Japan, and though I felt disappointed with his second term for fairly common reasons that need not be gone into here, I shook hands with him again at a reception at the US Embassy in Beijing. Yes, I've been inside the embassy gates. They used to make a mean BLT in the snack bar and I got to know Ambassador Sasser a bit, a true gentleman.

As for Clinton, to lift a phrase from one of my more subtle detractors, I found him "brilliant and charming," even when I really disagreed with him. I also met Jimmy Carter and saw Ronald Reagan in Beijing, and Bush Senior just a few months ago at a reception in the Great Hall of the People, which is to say I have been consistently interested in the Sino-US relationship for a few decades now, in part inspired by my teacher, fellow teacher, friend and mentor, Michel Oksenberg.

Mike Oksenberg is not exactly anyone's idea of a leftist, bless his soul; he worked in the Carter White House and like Rick Baum, Chinapol meister, enjoyed a certain amount of intelligence access due to his White House work.

One reason Mike and I got along is that I dared to disagree with him and he respected that. Sam Huntington at Harvard will tell you the same. Okay, on some issues I may be said to lean a bit to the left, but during a widely-viewed argument I had with Mike Oksenberg on Ted Koppel's Nightline (with Mike defending China in the aftermath of eighty-nine and me criticizing it) Mike flew me into Ann Arbor to attend a Michigan football game and we remained close until his death. In a not entirely unrelated vein, I also once had a rather public argument about the Jiang visit to Harvard with Ezra Vogel (after his stint in the CIA) many years later and even he had the extreme courtesy to write a letter to apologize for the misunderstanding.

I'm American and I like America (though I shouldn't feel the need to say this and I defend the right of people not to like it) but I really hate what's happened to my country. It's passion and concern for a good place with good people gone bad, not cynicism nor hatred.

There's a difference between bringing up the US on each and every occasion as a deliberate ploy to obfuscate the issue, sort of like the incessant harping on what the white man did to the Indians in the context of today's current events. However history cannot be completely ignored, especially by historians and political scientists such as you have on Chinapol. Furthermore, it is well-nigh impossible to have a well-rounded discussion about CONTEMPORARY China without reference to its leading CONTEMPORARY rival which pushes and prods it in mores ways than one, playing the human rights card here, the trade card there, the spy plane game, etc.

To sum up my thoughts on Chinapol, the organization has an America problem. There's a dialectic in play, the US influences that which US critics criticize, but free discussion of the US role in all this is not welcome. Okay, Rick Baum has to keep the CIA members happy, but I found them generally thoughtful and intelligent. It was wannabe defense types and human rightists who deep-sixed many a good discussion.

I joined Chinapol sight unseen, having no idea of who constituted its membership, with an open mind to see what it was like and was gradually dismayed to see how often the dynamics of discussion got railroaded by a handful of reactionaries, a dynamic not unlike that which recently took place on Danwei and is now unfolding on the Longbow site. Finally I felt uncomfortable with the Chinapol habit of criticizing behind closed doors, doors which are closed to the very people being studied and observed.

A tip of the hat to you Joe, for your spirited loyalty and appreciation of the seriousness of the issues involved.

Best,

Phil

Thank you, good buddy. All right, folks, speak your piece if you have one--but not with personal attacks or extremely foul language, that stuff will come down quickly.

11:20 AM / Editor / permalink 7 comments

Thursday, July 06, 2006

Chinapol, Shove it! In Defense of Philip Cunningham

12:26 PM

I am not sure whom I detest more, plain old elitists or American academic elitists. Both types I stomach about as well as I do cauliflower. While I have one leg or so tenuously planted in academia by way of my employment at one of Beijing's better universities to teach American-style journalism, I am anything but an academic.

(It must be noted that I am a product of Mississippi, the poorest state in America, and its public schools and universities; I grew up in a tiny coastal town that most folks had never heard of before Katrina. I'm a "countryside" boy with a "public" education, whose father came to America from Italy when he was 13 speaking not a word of English, and became something quite special.)

I was invited as a "Foreign Expert" to teach journalism at Beijing Foreign Studies University for the same reason I was invited to teach "Writing the Nonfiction Book" at the U.C.L.A. Writers Program in America during the late 90s: Because that is what I do for a living--writing book length investigative journalism and occasional magazine articles (with a screenplay or two thrown in to keep the wolf always at the door somewhat at bay).

Why in blue blazes am I wading so indignantly into this here and now? There is an interesting brouhaha--a ganged up witch hunt is more of an appropriate description to my taste--in place over at my very good friend Jeremy Goldkorn's invaluable blog Danwei. It is all about Philip Cunningham, a widely published fellow freelance author and journalist, being kicked off of an American-based, invitation only, listserv called Chinapol, which is ostensibly a place for serious sinologists to gather and share their wisdom on things Chinese via e-mail. That is, when they are not glad handing one another or backstabbing one another.

For purpose of perspective only, I will note that Chinapol, a privately owned endeavor of U.C.L.A. Professor Rick Baum, does not allow mainland, native Chinese scholars into their exalted company. I am serious. That is not a typo. A group whose purpose is to better understand China and its place in the community of nations will not allow Chinese to join!

I don't have the time, space, civility nor objectivity to go into the full spectrum of vitriol caused by Phil being tossed out of this academic circle-jerk, and his impassioned response to it, other than to say that he has some very strong feelings about how his native land, America, is behaving both at home and abroad under this administration. I will also say that, like it or not, what Phil is saying about American atrocities committed in various parts of our world is true.

Should he appear to be so apologetic regarding Chinese "atrocities" past and present? Perhaps not, but you read his argument and decide for yourself. However, this much I understand completely: when so many people constantly push you up against a wall with knee-jerk "America-good, China-bad" balderdash without a lot of real life experience in a country one has come to love deeply, one gets defensive. It is also an undeniable fact that the majority of American press coverage of China is negative.

For the whole story--and it is revelatory, well worth a look-see--please go to Danwei for conflicting and strong views on the matter from a lot of people, some of whom you will recognize as readers and commenters in these pages. I will add a caveat, Phil and I do not always agree on some of his views of America and its larger designs upon the world--by larger, I mean, after Bush, whom I believe at present is capable of completely destroying the idea of the American Ideal for all whom do not yet have it. I mostly believe that we and the world will survive Bush, but I cannot guarantee it.

In truth, Phil hasn't been too happy with any recent administration in residence at the White House. In further truth, as was so eloquently said only the other day by my closest friend in life, whom I will not identify at this point, "Joseph, Phil is so far left of you, you're almost a centrist," by comparison.

Now, that is damn hard to do! I mean, get to the left of me. But, I suppose there is a germ of truth in the statement. Philip Cunningham is indeed far to the left of the prevailing winds in the United States these dark and frightening days. Most would assume that's why I respect Phil so much. But to do so would be a mistake. I don't choose my friends--or family, for that matter, all of whom are Republican Bush supporters, yet my love for them is unconditional--by their political persuasion.

I mostly choose the people I spend friendship time with for four reasons: they are smarter than I am; they don't spit on me or in my food; their sense of humanity and its value regardless of race, place or class; and loyalty. That last one is a real biggie--the countryside boy in me. If you'll get in my fox-hole when the rounds start whistling, I will get in yours and ask no questions other than which way to shoot.

Here, I am going to address my respect for, and friendship with, Phil Cunningham on three of those points. I think the second one speaks for itself.

One. Other than my deceased father, and that very best friend whom I am still not ready to identify in this context, Philip Cunningham is the smartest guy I've ever come in contact with. And in my some five plus decades of a colorful and well-traveled life, I've met more than a few smart people. Phil speaks, reads and writes--professionally!--in just about every major language other than Martian. And while he is at this moment holed up in a beautiful, hallowed cottage in northern Japan, he might be working on that one too.

Two. Phil Cunningham has a sense of human justice that is hard to find in really smart folks any longer. He loves human beings of all stripes and colors. He hates it when they are murdered, tortured, or imprisoned anywhere (for reasons that are not just). Phil has been in China for a whole lot of years. He was in the square that awful day in the summer of 1989, and I have heard him condemn what happened there in every form possible.

Now, is he likely at the same time to bring up Kent State, or Chicago in 1968, or My Lai? Yepper. And why not? While relativism is very much out of fashion, I still hold to its importance dearly: comparing different varieties of oranges at an orange growers' convention makes a lot of sense to me. Nothing in history happens in a vacuum. It is all one big continuum--life, history and politics. If we don't compare things, how in the hell are we ever going to weigh their relative value or significance in the larger view?

As a crime writer working mostly the murder beat, relativism was crucial for my sanity--and my job performance--when spending dozens and sometimes hundreds of hours in small, windowless rooms with convicted murderers. If I dwelt only in the absolute, I could never have achieved the human bond that allowed me to get heinous criminals to sometimes tell me their deepest secrets, which was why I was there. I learned how to truly love and befriend men who had committed acts of barbarism that would otherwise empty a nauseous belly in a Yankee goddamn minute.

Three. I first met Phil Cunningham within only days of my arrival in Beijing three years ago from Xiamen. I was teaching a ridiculous course called "Media and Foreign Policy" to prospective diplomats and party functionaries at the China Foreign Affairs University. It was on the set of "Dialogue," the CCTV International talk show hosted by Yang Rui. I would go on to appear on the show almost weekly that first year because Yang Rui and his producers thought I was an International Relations expert because of what and where I was teaching. (There was another reason, but that has to do with my best friend that I cannot identify here.)

At the end of that year, Yang Rui, as a celebrity guest, came to see a live television extravaganza I produced at the Beijing Broadcasting Institute--it is called something else these days, but what escapes me at the moment--and as we sat and chatted he learned, apparently for the first time, that I was only a journalist and author, not an IR specialist. It is instructive, and amusing, to note that I have appeared on "Dialogue" only a half-dozen times or so in the intervening two years.

But, back to that first appearance with Phil. Here was a guy who had been in China since god was a pup, yet after the show he warmly invited me to have a Scotch or two and took the time to teach rudimentary "New China" history to a dummy with patience and respect. For that alone, he was a hero in my eyes.

I believe the last time I saw Phil in person was two or three months ago when we were the only "foreigners" at a unique, private forum with representatives of every major state-owned and controlled media entity in China and the deans of the less than a handful of Chinese universities that have real English language J-schools. Like all of the other get-togethers in between it was a valuable learning experience and a personal pleasure to jawbone with Phil.

However, the last time I had the pleasure of hearing from him is surely the reason I will defend him and his humanity until the end of my days. You see, Phil has a family, a full family, with children, and it is tough to make ends meet as a freelance journalist in China. He needed a steady job. Unbeknownst to me, he was offered mine. He turned it down! And promptly let me know about it--not his turning it down, he was too modest for that, but that my position was perhaps precarious. The full truth came from that best friend I cannot identify.

The job probably would not have paid enough to keep him from accepting a much better position teaching in Japan. I do know that certain members of his family would have preferred that he give it a try rather than moving them to another country, a country quite alien to them.

I am now going to fudge a bit and add another reason for my love and admiration of Phil Cunningham. The single smartest man that I have known in my life--including even my father, forgive me Pop, but you know it is true--my best friend in life, who for good and sound reasons, I cannot identify here, also thinks the world of Phil Cunningham.

A final word: Phil, come home if you can, please! That dear friend and I miss you, brother. I still have my job, and get this? Yang Rui's lovely and talented wife is my new dean.

Oh, and you can name-drop Mr. Yang's first name 12 times a week; Yang Rui is a complex, fascinating man whom I both like and admire.

Side note: Raj--and others with the same question--the reason some of us do not virulently condemn the Chinese Central Government publicly is rather elementary: we are employed by it. Would you curse out your employer? Forget the practical matter, is it even good manners? However, if you actually read these pages, and particularly the Journalism and the State series on WOW, I think you might realize why most other folks cannot understand why the government I work for allows me the freedom to do what I do. I will also direct you--and others with your sentiments--to this article I was invited to publish in Quill, the excellent magazine published by the Society of Professional Journalists, of which I am a grateful member.

12:26 PM / Editor / permalink 14 comments

Wednesday, July 05, 2006

Tassels Flying With the Greatest of Joy

3:32 PM

A teacher's greatest joy--and bittersweet sadness--is seeing his students complete their years of study and begin the next stage of their lives. More Beijing Foreign Studies University graduation pictures have arrived. The picture above of students tossing their caps into the future is of my very first class at Beiwai; it was the only class of English majors I taught in my now two plus years at BFSU. My graduating Journalism majors are behind deadline in sending their pictures--hint-hint, Lo Li!

3:32 PM / Editor / permalink 0 comments

Monday, July 03, 2006

Want to Have a Lotta Fun? Go Click Below

2:21 PM

I do not want to spoil your fun with an introduction of what you will find behind the link below. But, trust me; you will have fun if you click it.

Link

A tip of the keyboard to Jayne Lyn Stahl, the author and proprietor of LadyJayne's Blog, for sending the link to us.

2:21 PM / Editor / permalink 2 comments

Sunday, July 02, 2006

Crimes of Opportunity

7:18 PM

By Jayne Lyn Stahl

"A crime of opportunity," they like to call it, our friends in the military, and what an inopportune time for the disclosure that, in mid-March, in a town virtually a stone's throw from Baghdad, Mahmoudiya, the stunning murder, and rape, of a civilian woman and her family, by a group of soldiers with the 502nd Infantry Regiment, was premeditated. What are these soldiers charged with? Not merely violating, and taking the life of, a young Iraqi mother, her child, husband, and brother-in-law, but burning her body afterwards in a dastardly attempt to cover their tracks.

We who have become narcotized, if not paralyzed, by news of mutilations, beheadings, all manner of torture conceivable to anyone, or anything, even remotely human, for even the most obdurate, and insensate, among us, this crime can only spark the kind of disgust that makes our blood boil. Even more terrible is the allegation today, by an anonymous military source that these suspects appear to have planned the rape, and killing, at least a week before it was executed. (AP) This same military officer uses the phrase "crime of opportunity" to describe the brutality visited upon this civilian family, (AP) with the implication that there was no impetus, or specific event, that caused it, but merely the fact that the opportunity, or climate, for such gross inhumanity, presented itself.

What is a "crime of opportunity," and what does it mean? Is it about being in the wrong place at the wrong time? And, if so, as a soldier in Iraq, are you not likewise a victim; can it not be said that war itself is a "crime of opportunity?" If so, then we have a plague of opportunists running this country. Moreover, it may be argued, too, that capital punishment is such a crime, one that avails itself of the kind of infectious irrationality which proved toxic to previous empires, and which, no doubt, will prove fatal to ours, as well.

But, can we accept that this family just happened to be in the wrong place, or that the soldiers acted as they did only as a result of where they were situated, an argument implied by the military? Or, is it simply that the soldiers were at the wrong place at the wrong time, too. More importantly, is there really any difference between what these infantrymen did, and an equally barbaric civilian murder, say, for instance, that of Nicole Brown Simpson? Was that not also a "crime of opportunity" and, if not, how may we to distinguish between the two. Is barbarism more acceptable on the battlefield? The signers of the Geneva Conventions didn't think so. Or, is it that we tolerate crimes of passion better than those of dispassion? Have we, as a culture, managed to survive by learning how to keep ourselves at so many removes from reality that it no longer breathes, and bleeds; just how many removes does that take?

A society that accepts premeditation, and murder, in its own country, or in a foreign land, suffers from what may only be seen as an opportunistic infection in its moral fabric, one caused by an organism that is not normally the source of disease in humans. For humans to develop apathy toward the pain, and suffering of other humans is, in a word, inhuman.

Honor may well be the first casualty of such war crimes as are taking place in Iraq but, sadly, honor, too, has become opportunistic, and a victim of the kind of corporate lust that drives young men to grab what doesn't belong to them. Whatever "normal" was left in the "New Normal" manufactured by the Cheneys, and Rumsfelds, to enhance the bottom lines of big oil companies, Halliburtons, and Fortune 500s, has been eradicated, and replaced, by the kind of insidious lethargy that can only convert choir boys into cold blooded killers.

Alas, we find ourselves, yet again, behind one-size-fits-all jargon that hides a fundamentally flawed, decayed and, in the best sense of the word, deviant, rationalization for the subversion of right and wrong in the name of a jihad against an illusory axis of evil. Where, pray tell, is this evil axis lurking now? Where does it rear its ugly head most effectively? in the caves of Pakistan, the theatres of battle, or in the mirror staring back at us, those of us with the stomach to look at our own reflection, and call ourselves human after the dread that greets us in our morning news, the moral carnage left by cannibals who daily consume this country, and overwhelm this continent, with their bankrupt greedy little hands dripping, yet again, with the blood of slaughtered children. So, it must be asked, who must we abhor more, the infantrymen who raped, and killed, this poor young Iraqi woman, or their commanders, including the commander-in-chief, who sold them into battle, and put us all in a place where everything, right or wrong, has been forever turned upside down.

No matter the angle, there can be no question these suspects, this group of servicemen from the 502nd Regiment, must be tried, as criminals, charged with premeditated murder, and the full weight of the criminal justice system brought to bear upon them. They have lost their right to hide behind a uniform, or a flag. This is no longer a military matter, but one that strikes at the heart of what it means to be a human being in society, and it must be addressed as such. These acts of barbarism foisted upon innocent Iraqi families transcend military courts, and must be a wake-up call to our collective social conscience that this kind of violence cannot be confined to the theatre of battle, but must, sooner or later, infect us all.

While this president thought, not too long ago, that his marginal victory, in the 2004 election, gave him some political capital, he may rest assured that it has all been spent on the collateral damage that has come as a direct result of his incompetence at playing global monopoly, and waging war. In a week when the Supreme Court issued a monumental ruling, shooting down Mr. Bush's efforts at establishing feudal, and futile, military tribunals, even the Pentagon must be forced to acknowledge crimes that go beyond its boundaries, as well as the boundaries of civilization.

There isn't much we may be sure of nowadays, but one thing is certain--when conscience calls, it always calls collect.

Jayne Lyn Stahl is a treasured friend. More importantly, she is one of America's most renowned wordsmiths and the founder of the writer's free press advocacy organization Writers-at-Large; she is an exceedingly accomplished and awarded poet, playwright, screenwriter, essayist, and blogger.

Because the Blogspot network--and LadyJayne's Blog--is blocked in China, The LongBow Papers is honored to make the so very poignant piece above available to all of our readers. Thank you, Jayne.

7:18 PM / Editor / permalink 2 comments

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