A convenient lie

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One of the convenient lies we are told on a regular basis is that governments and politicians make the laws, but the way in which those laws are enforced is ‘an operational matter’, entirely in the hands of individual police forces, who set their own priorities when it comes to using the limited resources allocated to them by those same governments and politicians. Thus it was parliament, at the behest of the Home Secretary, which declared that showing any sort of support for Palestine Action was itself a terrorist act, punishable by up to 14 years in prison, but it was the Metropolitan Police who decided that this was such a high priority that it justified arresting over 500 people, many of them for doing little more than holding up a placard, and then bailing them on suspicion of terrorism.

Maybe the Home Secretary, an authoritarian to her fingernails, didn’t actually tell the Met that she wanted the maximum number of arrests to be made. Maybe she didn’t even give them the odd nod and wink about her expectations. Perhaps her expectations were already clear enough for the police to ‘know’ what they needed to do. But there are now two possible outcomes. The first is that the authorities really will charge most or all of those people with terrorism, adding to the courts backlog in order to hear cases, most of which will, at huge public expense, end up with a minor fine or even a discharge given the pettiness of the ‘offences’. The second is that they will, rather more wisely, simply drop all further action to avoid a situation where they look like the complete idiots they have made of themselves.

It's possible, of course, that the police have deliberately been heavy-handed in order to expose the ridiculous nature of the law that they are being expected to enforce, in the hope that the government will back off and allow them to get back to dealing with proper crime. That does, though, require rather more cunning and Machiavellianism than the Met are usually known for. And, in any event, Occam’s Razor applies.

There is little doubt as to the guilt of those holding up placards, although that says more about the silliness of the law than the actions of the protesters or the police. In the meantime, it means that the police have released more than 500 suspected terrorists, each of whom has committed an offence carrying a custodial sentence of up to 14 years, onto the streets of the UK to continue their nefarious activities. We are expected to believe two things at the same time: firstly that these are dangerous terrorists who deserve to be locked up for a very long time, and secondly that it is safe to allow them to roam the country. A rational and sensible government might stop and think about the course they are following, but we’re more likely to see them doubling down on the rhetoric. As well as seeing more protests and more arrests. I suppose it’s what the UK deserves for electing an authoritarian and illiberal government.

Blurring the lines isn't firm action

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Terrorism, like some perverse form of beauty, is in the eye of the beholder. The term, ‘La terreur’, was first used during the French revolution, when it was very much a state-sponsored method of terrifying a population into submission and acceptance. It underlines the fact that there is no clear, generally-accepted definition of the term – a huge advantage for politicians since it means that they can define it any way they choose. Governments tend to use the word as a catch-all for almost anything of which they disapprove, an approach which leads to Putin using the term to justify his war in Ukraine, and Sir Starmer using it to describe a few people who try and give a new coat of paint to a couple of military aircraft. Whether that latter action actually ‘terrified’ anyone is a moot point, but it doesn’t really matter; once something has been officially defined as terrorism, almost any action is apparently justified in dealing with it.

One of the more alarming aspects of the government’s decision to proscribe a single pro-Palestine organisation is the way in which the police now seem to be extending the definition of terrorism to include anyone who supports the same aims as the proscribed organisation itself. Effectively, they’ve started arresting people (and detaining them under the more stringent conditions relating to terrorism rather than the more usual conditions for other types of crime) for declaring their support for the idea of a Palestinian state, rather than only for outright support for the proscribed organisation. Maybe individual police officers have been inadequately briefed about exactly what the law does or does not permit, but it’s hard to believe that different forces in different parts of the UK would independently have come to such a similar conclusion – which suggests at least implicit encouragement from the government.

There are probably few who would quibble with the principle of proscription as a tool to deal with an organisation taking violent action causing death or injury to citizens in an attempt to force a particular change in policy (although not quibbling with the principle isn’t the same as believing that it’s an effective approach). It ought to be possible, though, in a semi-democracy like the UK to debate when and under what conditions such a sanction should be applied and to question the way in which that sanction is then policed. The government, however, seems determined to close down any such discussion.

War, with all its accompanying death and destruction, invariably ‘radicalises’ people, to use a term generally used pejoratively these days. The horrific war in Gaza is just one example. Whether it’s always the bad thing as which it is presented is another question which they don’t want to debate. The second world war radicalised a generation of people in the UK, and the immediate post-war Labour government under Clem Attlee channelled that into making some of the most significant changes the UK has ever seen. I can’t help but wonder whether the instinctive reaction of the current day Labour Party under Sir Starmer would have been, more likely, to criminalise and imprison those who had been radicalised. Few people in the UK actually support ‘real’ terrorism, but forever extending the definition of the term blurs the lines. It might look like firm action, but it is likely to make enforcement harder rather than easier.

Counter-productive arguments

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The reaction of the Tories to the tweet by Plaid’s leader last week about the attack in Barcelona was a little over the top for me.  But given the propensity of Plaid politicians in recent years to demand apologies, resignations, and sackings whenever a political opponent says something that offends their sensitivities, they can hardly complain when other people want to play the same game.  It’s all just part of the froth which passes for political debate.

The underlying point of the tweet has a degree of validity when looked at objectively; much of the ISIS ideology does indeed overlap with the ideology of other groups such as those demanding white supremacy in America.  So, as a statement of fact, it’s hard to disagree.  I wonder though what is the purpose of drawing a comparison, and I find it hard to avoid the conclusion that it was intended as a means of lumping together a number of disparate groups under a single label, and claiming guilt by association.  It’s disappointing that a party like Plaid, which has suffered from similar attempts at guilt by association over many decades (along the lines of ‘you’re a nationalist, Hitler was a nationalist, therefore you’re a Nazi’) should be playing the same game rather than trying to maintain a higher standard of debate.  Those who have attempted for years to smear Plaid in that fashion really have no right complaining when the boot’s on the other foot, but two wrongs never make a right.

The real issue for me is about using such a simplistic approach as pinning labels on political opponents.  Oh, I know they all do it, and I’m singling out Plaid only as the most recent transgressor here, but what exactly does the label ‘far-right’ add to meaningful political debate about the aims and objectives of all the groups so labelled?  Labelling is invariably a substitute for analysis rather than a part of that analysis; a short-hand way of dismissing arguments without needing to debate them.  But it’s extremely imprecise; there are people who are socially very conservative whilst holding what might be called left-wing economic views, and there are people with what might be called right-wing economic views who are socially liberal.

Winning people over, or changing their minds on specific issues, requires a degree of engagement with those details rather than dismissing them with a label.  Labelling may feel very ‘right-on’ to the in-groups in politics (and the Labour support for Leanne is relevant in that context), but ordinary voters who feel that they have, in effect, been told that they are little different to ISIS are unlikely to be well-disposed to listen for very long to those who they feel have told them that.  It’s not a reason for demanding apologies, resignations, or sackings, but I do seriously question whether it’s an approach which is likely to advance the cause of those using it.  It basically just seems counter-productive.

Appearing tough

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There are three things which the Tories can normally be relied upon to do when a response is needed to any question of ‘Laura Norder’.  The first is to blame someone or something else, the second is to restrict citizens’ rights, and the third is to promise tougher penalties.  And, sure enough, the Prime Minister has rehearsed all three over the past day or two in response to the atrocities in Manchester and London.  And they’re all as irrelevant in this case as usual.

The implied blame in this case is a combination of incorporating human rights legislation into UK law, and making the UK subject to ‘foreign’ courts, which actually dare to uphold the relevant legislation.  It’s a convenient scapegoat, but it is being used to divert attention from the fact that, as Home Secretary, Theresa May herself failed to protect the UK using the already adequate powers which she had.  And part of the reason for that failure brings us to the second strand of her response.

Taking away, or reducing, citizens’ rights is always their preferred option.  In general, it often seems as though they’d really prefer it if citizens didn’t have any rights at all, and just did whatever they were told – the surprising thing is that so many people seem to accept that it’s a good idea, but then, they probably are assuming that it will only affect ‘someone else’.  But in many ways, tearing up our protections against over-intrusive security services is a way of making up for a lack of resources within those services.  And that’s what ties the first and the second strand together – the problem isn’t that someone else is to blame, nor that human rights prevent the proper operation of the security services, it is that the resources available to those services have been consciously and deliberately reduced over recent years by a Home Secretary whose priority was financial.  And let’s just remind ourselves who that Home Secretary was.

In the case of the third strand, the response is just plain silly.  The argument is that knowing that there will be longer jail sentences for perpetrators of crime makes them less likely to commit crime.  I can see how that might conceivably work in the case of, say, burglary, but it depends on the idea that the burglar will sit down and do a cost-benefit analysis of the potential gain from the burglary and the potential pain of the jail term.  That seems highly unlikely to me; insofar as our hypothetical burglar does any weighing of the pros and cons in advance, the factor most likely to weigh in his or her mind is the probability of getting caught.  (And that, of course, brings us straight back to the question of the level of police resources…)  However, in the case of our would-be terrorist attacker, he or she has already assumed that the outcome of the attack will be his or her death; either through use of a suicide bomb or else by police action.  The idea that knowing that they face a sentence of 30 years rather than 20, say, if they survive is hardly likely to be much of a deterrent.  Could it be a deterrent to those aiding and abetting the actual attackers?  That also seems unlikely to me; martyrdom is a part of their belief system, and prison is just another form of martyrdom.

I can’t believe that May actually believes any of what she says on these points; it looks more like a pitch to persuade people that she’s being tough.  But appearing to be tough isn’t the same as actually being tough, nor as solving a very serious problem.  It might win a few votes though, which is what it’s really about.

Losing the argument

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The battering which Corbyn has taken throughout the election campaign on the question of Trident has been a sad reflection on the state of politics.  It’s an issue on which he has been utterly consistent for the whole of his political life, but seeing interviewers trying to bully him to say that he’s changed his mind when he very clearly has not done so has been a depressing exhibition of the power of the media to create and sustain the Tory narrative.  He’s handicapped, of course, by the lack of support for his viewpoint within his own party, particularly from those unions who seem to see preparing for nuclear annihilation as just an expensive job creation scheme, but refusing to change his mind, or even just pretend that he’s changed his mind to please a particular audience, is surely a sign of strength and conviction rather than the weakness as which it’s been portrayed.

The hounding of him on the issue during the Question Time non-debate left me feeling that there’s something very wrong in a country where a gung-ho willingness to incinerate millions by launching a first strike is deemed one of the most important tests of leadership.  It’s about time someone challenged the established consensus on nuclear weapons, and it’s a great pity that his own party has prevented Corbyn from doing that effectively at an election for the first time in a generation.

It also raises a question in my mind about the much-vaunted ‘British values’ which the Prime Minister keeps banging on about.  In the light of recent events, she has quite rightly condemned those who are prepared to strap on a suicide vest and go out and kill as many randomly selected civilians as they can as being something which is completely contrary to those values.  But at the same time, she tells us that being willing and ready to launch a nuclear strike which will kill millions of randomly selected civilians (as well as probably being suicidal for the UK if the target country itself possesses nuclear weapons) is a key test of support for those same values.

Now some will no doubt object to that comparison, and argue that the whole point of having nuclear weapons is never to need to use them; that the very act of possessing them acts as a deterrent.  And obviously, they can only be a deterrent if the ‘other side’ completely believes that the PM of the day will be ready and willing to use them if the UK is attacked or if he or she believes that the UK is in imminent danger of attack.  All of that is true, of course.  But my point is simply this: a Prime Minister who declares publicly and repeatedly that she is ready and willing to order the deaths of millions of civilians – men, women, and children alike – is not in a particularly good position to argue that attacking and killing civilians is somehow alien to her core values.  Of course there are differences of opinion about the circumstances in which it can be justified, but having stated that there are indeed circumstances in which it’s not only justified, but she’s willing to do it, she’s lost the argument about values and principles.  Corbyn, at least, is still in a position to argue on the basis of values and principles - May is not.

None of this can or should be taken to provide any sort of excuse or pretext for recent attacks, but ridding humanity of its propensity to resort to extreme violence isn’t a problem restricted only to ‘others’.  The UK’s continued possession of nuclear weapons is a clear and unequivocal statement of a willingness to use them, and thus is itself a provocative act.  And it’s the sort of act which tells us more about the true values of our political leaders than any amount of rhetoric ever can.

What's in a word

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To listen to UK Ministers, one would believe that only Russians kill civilians in Syria, ‘we’ only kill ‘terrorists’.  It’s not credible; there can never be any guarantee that anyone dropping a bomb from the air will only kill those it deems combatants.  But there was another thing that struck me about what Michael Fallon said yesterday as well.  He said that whilst the UK, US etc. are bombing ‘terrorists’, Russia is bombing ‘legitimate opposition forces’.  I’m sure that’s a distinction which will be of great comfort to those being killed by both groups.

It brought to mind the way in which words regularly change their meaning.  It’s a natural attribute of any language, but changing meanings and different interpretations don’t always help rational debate, particularly when those involved in the debate stretch words to mean whatever they want them to mean.  ‘Terrorism’ is a case in point.

As I understand it, the word originated in France as terrorisme to describe the reign of terror during the French revolution.  It referred specifically to actions being taken by the state against its citizens – almost completely the reverse of the way in which it is generally used today.  In the mouths of politicians, it has become a catch-all for anyone using violence in pursuit of political objectives, excluding, of course, those who are seen as friends, and those who use violence as a means of promoting ‘acceptable’ objectives.  As a result, some people can be ‘terrorists’ today, ‘resistance fighters’ tomorrow, and ‘friendly allied governments’ the day after, whilst continuing to do the same things in the same way.  Or all three of those things, depending on who’s describing them.

It’s not only singularly unhelpful as a word when used like that, it’s also a cop-out to avoid debating, or even considering, the underlying causes and issues. But they have to be considered sometime; responding to violence with violence kills individuals but doesn’t kill grievances or beliefs.  On the contrary, it often reinforces them.

The UK has managed to get itself involved in yet another war in the Middle East, and looks likely to be dragged further in; and as is their wont, the politicians have described it as being part of the ‘war on terror’.  IS, or whatever they’re calling themselves today, are a pretty nasty and unpleasant bunch of people.  And the way they administer the territory that the have captured is closer to the original use of the word terrorisme than most of what we’ve seen from many groups to which the term has been applied. 

But I’m simply not convinced that bombing them is a path likely to meet with success in the long term.  We’re sending aircraft to bomb them largely because we have to be seen to be doing something, and this is something that we can do.  But being ‘something that we can do’ is not the same as being ‘something which will make a difference for the long term’.

Throughout human history, one of the hardest forces to tackle has been force based on an absolute religious belief.  The perspective that God demands that we submit to his will, and if anyone refuses, then they must either be forced to submit or be killed is a strange one to most of us today, even if it really isn’t that much different from the perspective of some Christian armies in the past, or that of the Inquisition.  To us, it looks dated and medieval, of course; but that’s a matter of context, not of nature.

The key point is that it isn’t a perspective which can simply be defeated by force.  It's an absolutist idea which needs to be tackled and subdued, but history indicates that we’re more likely to be successful in doing that through trade, education and negotiation.  It’s not often that I find myself half wishing that I was wrong; that a bombing campaign which kills a few thousand now will achieve its aim and avoid the deaths of many, many more later.  Such a belief would be easier in some ways than standing back and saying ‘truthfully, we can’t sort this quickly’ which I guess is why so many have adopted it.  But I can see no successful precedent for such a belief.  And nor could I bring myself to weigh human lives against each other in such a callous fashion - although that's something which seems to come very easily to governments.

Wars can certainly be ‘won’ in the short term.  But time and again history teaches us – even if we rarely learn from it – that the ‘solution’ to one conflict is often part of the cause of the next.  Fundamentalist beliefs cannot be killed by killing those who hold them – even if they could be identified, and even if the thousands of innocents killed in the process were deemed a price worth paying.  Ideas can only be defeated by other, better ideas.  Ignoring that simple reality has already cost the world far too many lives; failure to act on it is costing more on a daily basis.

Protection and insurance

Tweet There is a mantra oft-repeated by politicians keen to spend more and more of our money on acquiring and using weapons that “the first duty of any government is to protect its citizens”.  It’s duly parroted by the media, solemnly pronouncing on whether party A or party B is actually behaving in a way consistent with the mantra.  It’s treated as unarguable truth, largely because it’s ‘obviously true’.

But one of the things that life has taught me is that truth isn’t always obvious; and that which is ‘obvious’ isn’t always true.  In this case, I’m not at all sure that the statement means anything, shorn of context and without defining what ‘protect’ means as well as ‘protection from what’.

The latest outing that I saw for the statement was in the Sunday Times, when former Labour leadership candidate Liz Kendall trotted it out in support of the proposition that it is Labour’s ‘patriotic duty’ to back Trident.  In this context, it is, in effect, a substitute for argument and debate; a sort of trump card which over-rules any objection.  That isn’t helpful to rational consideration.

I don’t disagree with the statement as such; I think that governments should seek to protect their citizens from those things which threaten them.  But I don’t see nuclear blackmail as one of the biggest threats facing me or most other citizens.  Nor, in reality, do I see terrorism – a blanket word which in itself needs a lot more definition and refinement – as being the biggest threat to citizens of the UK.

For most of the population (although I’d accept that this isn’t true for those who move in the same circles as most of our politicians) their economic situation, and concerns about health care and education are much bigger threats to their lifestyles and well being.  And it’s hard to see how diverting money away from those fields to pay for a new nuclear weapons system does anything other than increase those threats.  In essence, even if the politicians really do believe that the mantra is one by which they should govern, their actions seem destined to achieve the opposite.

Another argument which is regularly advanced for Trident is that it’s some sort of ‘insurance policy’, and that wise people don’t go around without insurance.  But that’s simply not true.  Insurance policies don’t prevent things happening; they can’t.  Insurance is about pooling risk so that those who lose are, in effect, compensated for their loss by those who don’t.  The ‘protection’ offered by Trident is more akin to that traditionally offered by the mafia than a conventional insurance policy.  Insurance is about compensation for damage, not striking back - there’s nothing in my life insurance policy about posthumous retaliation.  The comparison with insurance is nonsensical.

Trident isn’t about protection; it isn’t about insurance; and it has little to do with the threats currently facing most of the UK population.  What it is about is keeping the UK government in the big boys club, pretending that the UK is still some sort of global power, and closing our eyes to the realities of the twenty first century.  It’s no way to build a safer world.

Preventing that which never was

Tweet A report in the Western Mail last week talked about the need for schools to educate children to prevent them becoming “radicalised” and turning to “terrorism”.  It’s not the first report of this nature to leave me feeling more than a little uneasy; the BBC carried a report a month or so ago in which the Home Office claim to have “deradicalised” 500 people.

The first concern that this raises in my mind is partly related to a sloppy use of language.  Words like radicalised and terrorist are starting to lose any meaning as they are applied in increasingly general fashion – what’s wrong, exactly, with holding radical views for instance?  There’s a danger that we start to treat different views as always being unacceptable views.

The second concern is around the idea that either the government, or the school, can identify those at risk of developing into “radicals” with sufficient accuracy to be able to target individuals or groups and bring them back onto the path of righteousness.  It’s hard to see how any such approach can avoid the danger of branding particular demographic groups as potential radicals or terrorists.

And how do the Home Office known that they have deradicalised anyone?  Putting 500 people who might or might not have become terrorists through a targeted programme gives a measurable outcome certainly; but the long-term effects of that program are surely open to question at the very least.  An ability to conceal their views and intentions is one of the key factors in the “success” (to misapply a word) of some terrorist activities.  I can’t believe that any techniques likely to have been used in the programme – or any program of which I can conceive in a democracy – would overcome that ability.

The intentions behind such programs and proposals are entirely worthy; we all want to think the government is doing all that it can to protect us, as well as protecting potential perpetrators from themselves and each other.

I can’t help feeling though that a line has been crossed when governments claim to be able to identify large numbers of potential terrorists before they’ve actually done anything; and the claim to have prevented people from becoming what they would probably never have become anyway is more than a little dubious.