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Commentary/Book Review ‘The Battle For Justice In Palestine’

http://www.middleeasteye.net/columns/battle-justice-palestine-2047860046

The two-state solution is beyond repair and the peace process now benefits only Israel, serving as a smoke screen for more land grabs

Ali Abunimah opens his new book, The Battle For Justice In Palestine with the startling claim, “The Palestinians Are Winning”. His central thesis is that the world is wising up to Israel, and that the two-state solution is dead after decades of wasted negotiation. A one-state solution – the only choice left, he feels – is to the Palestinians’ advantage.

This is a timely study, given the failure of the latest round of peace talks, but how realistic is this optimism?

Abunimah, who lives in the US, makes an original start by challenging America’s claim to global moral leadership – America being Israel’s protector and main international advocate.

The writer argues that racism remains endemic in the US where it is has been re-directed into the criminalisation and incarceration of disproportionate numbers of black people under the banner of “the war on drugs”; now Muslims have also become a target of this xenophobia in the course of the “war on terror”. Paradoxically, the situation has worsened under Barack Obama and, with seven millions in jail, “America imprisons more of its racial and ethnic minorities than any other country in the world.”

Unsurprisingly, this pattern is mirrored in Israel where Palestinians are routinely detained without charge and kangaroo courts have a conviction rate of 99.75 percent. When it comes to cases against Israeli soldiers for violent attacks on Palestinians, however, 94 percent are dropped.

Like “decent white folks” near an American Black or Latino ghetto, Israel is often portrayed as “living in a tough neighbourhood” where the ‘Arabs’ are a constant menace to their peace and security. Abunimah challenges this myth, together with the notion that Israel is the “only democracy in the Middle East”, describing instead a society as deeply racist and unequal as its American sponsor.

Abunimah revisits the territory of several other books with an exposé of Israel’s colonialism and apartheid machinery, but does so as part of his thesis that the two-state solution is no longer possible. A racist ghetto-isation of the Palestinians into a shrinking (due to illegal settlement building) West Bank and Gaza, and the refusal to allow those in the diaspora the right to return, cannot accommodate their legitimate (and legal) right to self-determination.

In an interesting analysis, Abunimah suggests that Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has admitted the failure of Zionism with his demand that the Palestinians recognize Israel as “a Jewish State”.  “The Zionist project,” Abunimah infers, “can never enjoy legitimacy or stability without the active consent of the Palestinian people.”

The colonialist, apartheid nature of the state of Israel is recognised more widely than ever before, by people, if not governments. Abunimah insists that lasting solutions can only evolve from the grass roots. The growth of the international Palestinian solidarity movement and the Boycott Divestment Sanctions (BDS) movement are crucial developments. The writer urges new, outside the box thinking on the Palestinian question and revisits the recent histories of South Africa and Northern Ireland, describing in (perhaps too intricate) detail the processes by which each achieved a previously unthinkable reconciliation.

Abunimah suggests that the current Palestinian leadership is no longer fit for purpose when Palestinian Authority President, Mahmoud Abbas, can declare, “We do not support the boycott of Israel” – a view which is at odds with the dreams of millions of Palestinians – and technocrats, like former Prime Minister Salman Fayyad, seek to impose an American/IMF agenda.

The wrong leadership at the crucial moment, the writer argues, leads to a new state being “born in chains”.

Abunimah predicts a vigorous battle against the one-state solution by Israel. Tel Aviv’s Reut Institute has warned that the nation’s international popularity and credibility is on the wane and that the BDS movement presents an “existential threat” to the Zionist state. The harbinger of its demise, according to the institute, would be the “collapse of the two-state solution”.

Israel’s muscular Hasbara (propaganda) machine has responded with hyperbolic campaigns including one that compares BDS to “Nazism” and Omar Barghouti’s book on the subject to Mein Kampf.

Abunimah goes into great detail (arguably too much) about the so-called “David Project” run by Hasbara on American university campuses which targets pro-Palestinian students and academics and which he compares to Senator McCarthy’s witch-hunt of communists in the 1950s. The writer might, perhaps, have identified similar actions on campuses in other countries. We have certainly witnessed them in the UK.

Abunimah also relates Israel’s attempts to redeem its PR image by “pinkwashing” and “greenwashing” in order to appeal to Western values. The former sees Israel marketing itself as a “gay paradise” while claiming, as Netanyahu did before Congress, that in Gaza, “Homosexuality is punishable by death”. (Not so, by the way). In one of the book’s rare moments of humour, Abunimah describes a hoax YouTube video in which an Israeli actor pretends to be a pro-Palestinian activist chased away from joining the Gaza flotilla “because he is gay”.

Greenwashing has seen even the Jewish National Fund, the very source of the Zionist project, posing as an “environmental movement”; Abunimah suggests that the “greening” policy is cynically used to grab land from Palestinian villagers and Bedouins and exposes Israel’s actual, appalling, environmental record: the OECD’s Better Life Index ranked Israel 35th (worst) out of 36 for water quality and 27th for air pollution.  Abunimah also identifies a form of “environmental racism” whereby sewage from Israel’s illegal hilltop settlements pollutes Arab farmland and water sources beneath; Israel’s “dirty industries” such as pesticide and chemical plants were relocated to the Arab West Bank after Israeli citizens complained about pollution.

Abunimah interestingly demonstrates how Israel harnesses racism in other cultures to its own advantage, rebranding it “shared values”. For example, it conflates America’s current panic about Mexicans with Islamic terrorism: a (former Israeli soldier) congressman recently made the entirely ludicrous claim that, “Al-Qaeda has camps with the drug cartels on the other side of the border.” Americans who originally hailed from India are courted for support because they too “have much to fear from the Islamic world”.

None of this has indefinite currency, however. With sympathy for and understanding of the plight of the Palestinians at unprecedented levels, Abunimah urges his fellow countrymen to step up to the mark and agitate for a new solution – one state for Arabs and Jews founded on a racial equality and economic justice.

Examining the practicalities in some detail, Abunimah comes up with some controversial suggestions, including that even the illegal settlers could be absorbed into a new state founded on “unmitigated equality”, provided they relinquished their colonial characteristics and settler privileges.

Abunimah devotes his final chapter to revisiting the whole question of self-determination and poses a thorny new question. Given that, under international law, this is a right accorded to peoples who have been liberated from occupation or colonization, can Jews in Palestine/Israel legitimately claim it for themselves?

So, does Abunimah convince that “the Palestinians are winning”?

This reader is persuaded that the two-state solution is beyond repair and that the peace process now benefits only Israel, serving as a smoke screen for more land grabs and settlement building.

A one-state outcome, founded on equality, justice, and peace between Arabs and Jews seems to be to be a solution in which everybody – not just the Palestinians – wins.

There is much that is new in Abunimah’s challenging and thought-provoking book. The only criticism this reader would offer is that there is arguably too much tangential detail and some of the reportage is too America-centric which somewhat lessens its potential international impact.

 – Susan de Muth is a London-based journalist specialising in Middle Eastern politics, literary translation, the environment, the Arts and Music.

The views expressed in this article belong to the author and do not necessarily reflect the editorial policy of Middle East Eye.

Photo credit: Palestinians at a rally marking the 66th anniversary of the Nakba Day in Gaza city on 15 May (AA)

– See more at: http://www.middleeasteye.net/columns/battle-justice-palestine#sthash.guv74Bl0.dpuf

The two-state solution is beyond repair and the peace process now benefits only Israel, serving as a smoke screen for more land grabs

Ali Abunimah opens his new book, The Battle For Justice In Palestine with the startling claim, “The Palestinians Are Winning”. His central thesis is that the world is wising up to Israel, and that the two-state solution is dead after decades of wasted negotiation. A one-state solution – the only choice left, he feels – is to the Palestinians’ advantage.

This is a timely study, given the failure of the latest round of peace talks, but how realistic is this optimism?

Abunimah, who lives in the US, makes an original start by challenging America’s claim to global moral leadership – America being Israel’s protector and main international advocate.

The writer argues that racism remains endemic in the US where it is has been re-directed into the criminalisation and incarceration of disproportionate numbers of black people under the banner of “the war on drugs”; now Muslims have also become a target of this xenophobia in the course of the “war on terror”. Paradoxically, the situation has worsened under Barack Obama and, with seven millions in jail, “America imprisons more of its racial and ethnic minorities than any other country in the world.”

Unsurprisingly, this pattern is mirrored in Israel where Palestinians are routinely detained without charge and kangaroo courts have a conviction rate of 99.75 percent. When it comes to cases against Israeli soldiers for violent attacks on Palestinians, however, 94 percent are dropped.

Like “decent white folks” near an American Black or Latino ghetto, Israel is often portrayed as “living in a tough neighbourhood” where the ‘Arabs’ are a constant menace to their peace and security. Abunimah challenges this myth, together with the notion that Israel is the “only democracy in the Middle East”, describing instead a society as deeply racist and unequal as its American sponsor.

Abunimah revisits the territory of several other books with an exposé of Israel’s colonialism and apartheid machinery, but does so as part of his thesis that the two-state solution is no longer possible. A racist ghetto-isation of the Palestinians into a shrinking (due to illegal settlement building) West Bank and Gaza, and the refusal to allow those in the diaspora the right to return, cannot accommodate their legitimate (and legal) right to self-determination.

In an interesting analysis, Abunimah suggests that Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has admitted the failure of Zionism with his demand that the Palestinians recognize Israel as “a Jewish State”.  “The Zionist project,” Abunimah infers, “can never enjoy legitimacy or stability without the active consent of the Palestinian people.”

The colonialist, apartheid nature of the state of Israel is recognised more widely than ever before, by people, if not governments. Abunimah insists that lasting solutions can only evolve from the grass roots. The growth of the international Palestinian solidarity movement and the Boycott Divestment Sanctions (BDS) movement are crucial developments. The writer urges new, outside the box thinking on the Palestinian question and revisits the recent histories of South Africa and Northern Ireland, describing in (perhaps too intricate) detail the processes by which each achieved a previously unthinkable reconciliation.

Abunimah suggests that the current Palestinian leadership is no longer fit for purpose when Palestinian Authority President, Mahmoud Abbas, can declare, “We do not support the boycott of Israel” – a view which is at odds with the dreams of millions of Palestinians – and technocrats, like former Prime Minister Salman Fayyad, seek to impose an American/IMF agenda.

The wrong leadership at the crucial moment, the writer argues, leads to a new state being “born in chains”.

Abunimah predicts a vigorous battle against the one-state solution by Israel. Tel Aviv’s Reut Institute has warned that the nation’s international popularity and credibility is on the wane and that the BDS movement presents an “existential threat” to the Zionist state. The harbinger of its demise, according to the institute, would be the “collapse of the two-state solution”.

Israel’s muscular Hasbara (propaganda) machine has responded with hyperbolic campaigns including one that compares BDS to “Nazism” and Omar Barghouti’s book on the subject to Mein Kampf.

Abunimah goes into great detail (arguably too much) about the so-called “David Project” run by Hasbara on American university campuses which targets pro-Palestinian students and academics and which he compares to Senator McCarthy’s witch-hunt of communists in the 1950s. The writer might, perhaps, have identified similar actions on campuses in other countries. We have certainly witnessed them in the UK.

Abunimah also relates Israel’s attempts to redeem its PR image by “pinkwashing” and “greenwashing” in order to appeal to Western values. The former sees Israel marketing itself as a “gay paradise” while claiming, as Netanyahu did before Congress, that in Gaza, “Homosexuality is punishable by death”. (Not so, by the way). In one of the book’s rare moments of humour, Abunimah describes a hoax YouTube video in which an Israeli actor pretends to be a pro-Palestinian activist chased away from joining the Gaza flotilla “because he is gay”.

Greenwashing has seen even the Jewish National Fund, the very source of the Zionist project, posing as an “environmental movement”; Abunimah suggests that the “greening” policy is cynically used to grab land from Palestinian villagers and Bedouins and exposes Israel’s actual, appalling, environmental record: the OECD’s Better Life Index ranked Israel 35th (worst) out of 36 for water quality and 27th for air pollution.  Abunimah also identifies a form of “environmental racism” whereby sewage from Israel’s illegal hilltop settlements pollutes Arab farmland and water sources beneath; Israel’s “dirty industries” such as pesticide and chemical plants were relocated to the Arab West Bank after Israeli citizens complained about pollution.

Abunimah interestingly demonstrates how Israel harnesses racism in other cultures to its own advantage, rebranding it “shared values”. For example, it conflates America’s current panic about Mexicans with Islamic terrorism: a (former Israeli soldier) congressman recently made the entirely ludicrous claim that, “Al-Qaeda has camps with the drug cartels on the other side of the border.” Americans who originally hailed from India are courted for support because they too “have much to fear from the Islamic world”.

None of this has indefinite currency, however. With sympathy for and understanding of the plight of the Palestinians at unprecedented levels, Abunimah urges his fellow countrymen to step up to the mark and agitate for a new solution – one state for Arabs and Jews founded on a racial equality and economic justice.

Examining the practicalities in some detail, Abunimah comes up with some controversial suggestions, including that even the illegal settlers could be absorbed into a new state founded on “unmitigated equality”, provided they relinquished their colonial characteristics and settler privileges.

Abunimah devotes his final chapter to revisiting the whole question of self-determination and poses a thorny new question. Given that, under international law, this is a right accorded to peoples who have been liberated from occupation or colonization, can Jews in Palestine/Israel legitimately claim it for themselves?

So, does Abunimah convince that “the Palestinians are winning”?

This reader is persuaded that the two-state solution is beyond repair and that the peace process now benefits only Israel, serving as a smoke screen for more land grabs and settlement building.

A one-state outcome, founded on equality, justice, and peace between Arabs and Jews seems to be to be a solution in which everybody – not just the Palestinians – wins.

There is much that is new in Abunimah’s challenging and thought-provoking book. The only criticism this reader would offer is that there is arguably too much tangential detail and some of the reportage is too America-centric which somewhat lessens its potential international impact.

 – Susan de Muth is a London-based journalist specialising in Middle Eastern politics, literary translation, the environment, the Arts and Music.

The views expressed in this article belong to the author and do not necessarily reflect the editorial policy of Middle East Eye.

Photo credit: Palestinians at a rally marking the 66th anniversary of the Nakba Day in Gaza city on 15 May (AA)

– See more at: http://www.middleeasteye.net/columns/battle-justice-palestine#sthash.guv74Bl0.dpuf

The two-state solution is beyond repair and the peace process now benefits only Israel, serving as a smoke screen for more land grabs

Ali Abunimah opens his new book, The Battle For Justice In Palestine with the startling claim, “The Palestinians Are Winning”. His central thesis is that the world is wising up to Israel, and that the two-state solution is dead after decades of wasted negotiation. A one-state solution – the only choice left, he feels – is to the Palestinians’ advantage.

This is a timely study, given the failure of the latest round of peace talks, but how realistic is this optimism?

Abunimah, who lives in the US, makes an original start by challenging America’s claim to global moral leadership – America being Israel’s protector and main international advocate.

The writer argues that racism remains endemic in the US where it is has been re-directed into the criminalisation and incarceration of disproportionate numbers of black people under the banner of “the war on drugs”; now Muslims have also become a target of this xenophobia in the course of the “war on terror”. Paradoxically, the situation has worsened under Barack Obama and, with seven millions in jail, “America imprisons more of its racial and ethnic minorities than any other country in the world.”

Unsurprisingly, this pattern is mirrored in Israel where Palestinians are routinely detained without charge and kangaroo courts have a conviction rate of 99.75 percent. When it comes to cases against Israeli soldiers for violent attacks on Palestinians, however, 94 percent are dropped.

Like “decent white folks” near an American Black or Latino ghetto, Israel is often portrayed as “living in a tough neighbourhood” where the ‘Arabs’ are a constant menace to their peace and security. Abunimah challenges this myth, together with the notion that Israel is the “only democracy in the Middle East”, describing instead a society as deeply racist and unequal as its American sponsor.

Abunimah revisits the territory of several other books with an exposé of Israel’s colonialism and apartheid machinery, but does so as part of his thesis that the two-state solution is no longer possible. A racist ghetto-isation of the Palestinians into a shrinking (due to illegal settlement building) West Bank and Gaza, and the refusal to allow those in the diaspora the right to return, cannot accommodate their legitimate (and legal) right to self-determination.

In an interesting analysis, Abunimah suggests that Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has admitted the failure of Zionism with his demand that the Palestinians recognize Israel as “a Jewish State”.  “The Zionist project,” Abunimah infers, “can never enjoy legitimacy or stability without the active consent of the Palestinian people.”

The colonialist, apartheid nature of the state of Israel is recognised more widely than ever before, by people, if not governments. Abunimah insists that lasting solutions can only evolve from the grass roots. The growth of the international Palestinian solidarity movement and the Boycott Divestment Sanctions (BDS) movement are crucial developments. The writer urges new, outside the box thinking on the Palestinian question and revisits the recent histories of South Africa and Northern Ireland, describing in (perhaps too intricate) detail the processes by which each achieved a previously unthinkable reconciliation.

Abunimah suggests that the current Palestinian leadership is no longer fit for purpose when Palestinian Authority President, Mahmoud Abbas, can declare, “We do not support the boycott of Israel” – a view which is at odds with the dreams of millions of Palestinians – and technocrats, like former Prime Minister Salman Fayyad, seek to impose an American/IMF agenda.

The wrong leadership at the crucial moment, the writer argues, leads to a new state being “born in chains”.

Abunimah predicts a vigorous battle against the one-state solution by Israel. Tel Aviv’s Reut Institute has warned that the nation’s international popularity and credibility is on the wane and that the BDS movement presents an “existential threat” to the Zionist state. The harbinger of its demise, according to the institute, would be the “collapse of the two-state solution”.

Israel’s muscular Hasbara (propaganda) machine has responded with hyperbolic campaigns including one that compares BDS to “Nazism” and Omar Barghouti’s book on the subject to Mein Kampf.

Abunimah goes into great detail (arguably too much) about the so-called “David Project” run by Hasbara on American university campuses which targets pro-Palestinian students and academics and which he compares to Senator McCarthy’s witch-hunt of communists in the 1950s. The writer might, perhaps, have identified similar actions on campuses in other countries. We have certainly witnessed them in the UK.

Abunimah also relates Israel’s attempts to redeem its PR image by “pinkwashing” and “greenwashing” in order to appeal to Western values. The former sees Israel marketing itself as a “gay paradise” while claiming, as Netanyahu did before Congress, that in Gaza, “Homosexuality is punishable by death”. (Not so, by the way). In one of the book’s rare moments of humour, Abunimah describes a hoax YouTube video in which an Israeli actor pretends to be a pro-Palestinian activist chased away from joining the Gaza flotilla “because he is gay”.

Greenwashing has seen even the Jewish National Fund, the very source of the Zionist project, posing as an “environmental movement”; Abunimah suggests that the “greening” policy is cynically used to grab land from Palestinian villagers and Bedouins and exposes Israel’s actual, appalling, environmental record: the OECD’s Better Life Index ranked Israel 35th (worst) out of 36 for water quality and 27th for air pollution.  Abunimah also identifies a form of “environmental racism” whereby sewage from Israel’s illegal hilltop settlements pollutes Arab farmland and water sources beneath; Israel’s “dirty industries” such as pesticide and chemical plants were relocated to the Arab West Bank after Israeli citizens complained about pollution.

Abunimah interestingly demonstrates how Israel harnesses racism in other cultures to its own advantage, rebranding it “shared values”. For example, it conflates America’s current panic about Mexicans with Islamic terrorism: a (former Israeli soldier) congressman recently made the entirely ludicrous claim that, “Al-Qaeda has camps with the drug cartels on the other side of the border.” Americans who originally hailed from India are courted for support because they too “have much to fear from the Islamic world”.

None of this has indefinite currency, however. With sympathy for and understanding of the plight of the Palestinians at unprecedented levels, Abunimah urges his fellow countrymen to step up to the mark and agitate for a new solution – one state for Arabs and Jews founded on a racial equality and economic justice.

Examining the practicalities in some detail, Abunimah comes up with some controversial suggestions, including that even the illegal settlers could be absorbed into a new state founded on “unmitigated equality”, provided they relinquished their colonial characteristics and settler privileges.

Abunimah devotes his final chapter to revisiting the whole question of self-determination and poses a thorny new question. Given that, under international law, this is a right accorded to peoples who have been liberated from occupation or colonization, can Jews in Palestine/Israel legitimately claim it for themselves?

So, does Abunimah convince that “the Palestinians are winning”?

This reader is persuaded that the two-state solution is beyond repair and that the peace process now benefits only Israel, serving as a smoke screen for more land grabs and settlement building.

A one-state outcome, founded on equality, justice, and peace between Arabs and Jews seems to be to be a solution in which everybody – not just the Palestinians – wins.

There is much that is new in Abunimah’s challenging and thought-provoking book. The only criticism this reader would offer is that there is arguably too much tangential detail and some of the reportage is too America-centric which somewhat lessens its potential international impact.

 – Susan de Muth is a London-based journalist specialising in Middle Eastern politics, literary translation, the environment, the Arts and Music.

The views expressed in this article belong to the author and do not necessarily reflect the editorial policy of Middle East Eye.

Photo credit: Palestinians at a rally marking the 66th anniversary of the Nakba Day in Gaza city on 15 May (AA)

– See more at: http://www.middleeasteye.net/columns/battle-justice-palestine#sthash.guv74Bl0.dpuf

The two-state solution is beyond repair and the peace process now benefits only Israel, serving as a smoke screen for more land grabs

Ali Abunimah opens his new book, The Battle For Justice In Palestine with the startling claim, “The Palestinians Are Winning”. His central thesis is that the world is wising up to Israel, and that the two-state solution is dead after decades of wasted negotiation. A one-state solution – the only choice left, he feels – is to the Palestinians’ advantage.

This is a timely study, given the failure of the latest round of peace talks, but how realistic is this optimism?

Abunimah, who lives in the US, makes an original start by challenging America’s claim to global moral leadership – America being Israel’s protector and main international advocate.

The writer argues that racism remains endemic in the US where it is has been re-directed into the criminalisation and incarceration of disproportionate numbers of black people under the banner of “the war on drugs”; now Muslims have also become a target of this xenophobia in the course of the “war on terror”. Paradoxically, the situation has worsened under Barack Obama and, with seven millions in jail, “America imprisons more of its racial and ethnic minorities than any other country in the world.”

Unsurprisingly, this pattern is mirrored in Israel where Palestinians are routinely detained without charge and kangaroo courts have a conviction rate of 99.75 percent. When it comes to cases against Israeli soldiers for violent attacks on Palestinians, however, 94 percent are dropped.

Like “decent white folks” near an American Black or Latino ghetto, Israel is often portrayed as “living in a tough neighbourhood” where the ‘Arabs’ are a constant menace to their peace and security. Abunimah challenges this myth, together with the notion that Israel is the “only democracy in the Middle East”, describing instead a society as deeply racist and unequal as its American sponsor.

Abunimah revisits the territory of several other books with an exposé of Israel’s colonialism and apartheid machinery, but does so as part of his thesis that the two-state solution is no longer possible. A racist ghetto-isation of the Palestinians into a shrinking (due to illegal settlement building) West Bank and Gaza, and the refusal to allow those in the diaspora the right to return, cannot accommodate their legitimate (and legal) right to self-determination.

In an interesting analysis, Abunimah suggests that Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has admitted the failure of Zionism with his demand that the Palestinians recognize Israel as “a Jewish State”.  “The Zionist project,” Abunimah infers, “can never enjoy legitimacy or stability without the active consent of the Palestinian people.”

The colonialist, apartheid nature of the state of Israel is recognised more widely than ever before, by people, if not governments. Abunimah insists that lasting solutions can only evolve from the grass roots. The growth of the international Palestinian solidarity movement and the Boycott Divestment Sanctions (BDS) movement are crucial developments. The writer urges new, outside the box thinking on the Palestinian question and revisits the recent histories of South Africa and Northern Ireland, describing in (perhaps too intricate) detail the processes by which each achieved a previously unthinkable reconciliation.

Abunimah suggests that the current Palestinian leadership is no longer fit for purpose when Palestinian Authority President, Mahmoud Abbas, can declare, “We do not support the boycott of Israel” – a view which is at odds with the dreams of millions of Palestinians – and technocrats, like former Prime Minister Salman Fayyad, seek to impose an American/IMF agenda.

The wrong leadership at the crucial moment, the writer argues, leads to a new state being “born in chains”.

Abunimah predicts a vigorous battle against the one-state solution by Israel. Tel Aviv’s Reut Institute has warned that the nation’s international popularity and credibility is on the wane and that the BDS movement presents an “existential threat” to the Zionist state. The harbinger of its demise, according to the institute, would be the “collapse of the two-state solution”.

Israel’s muscular Hasbara (propaganda) machine has responded with hyperbolic campaigns including one that compares BDS to “Nazism” and Omar Barghouti’s book on the subject to Mein Kampf.

Abunimah goes into great detail (arguably too much) about the so-called “David Project” run by Hasbara on American university campuses which targets pro-Palestinian students and academics and which he compares to Senator McCarthy’s witch-hunt of communists in the 1950s. The writer might, perhaps, have identified similar actions on campuses in other countries. We have certainly witnessed them in the UK.

Abunimah also relates Israel’s attempts to redeem its PR image by “pinkwashing” and “greenwashing” in order to appeal to Western values. The former sees Israel marketing itself as a “gay paradise” while claiming, as Netanyahu did before Congress, that in Gaza, “Homosexuality is punishable by death”. (Not so, by the way). In one of the book’s rare moments of humour, Abunimah describes a hoax YouTube video in which an Israeli actor pretends to be a pro-Palestinian activist chased away from joining the Gaza flotilla “because he is gay”.

Greenwashing has seen even the Jewish National Fund, the very source of the Zionist project, posing as an “environmental movement”; Abunimah suggests that the “greening” policy is cynically used to grab land from Palestinian villagers and Bedouins and exposes Israel’s actual, appalling, environmental record: the OECD’s Better Life Index ranked Israel 35th (worst) out of 36 for water quality and 27th for air pollution.  Abunimah also identifies a form of “environmental racism” whereby sewage from Israel’s illegal hilltop settlements pollutes Arab farmland and water sources beneath; Israel’s “dirty industries” such as pesticide and chemical plants were relocated to the Arab West Bank after Israeli citizens complained about pollution.

Abunimah interestingly demonstrates how Israel harnesses racism in other cultures to its own advantage, rebranding it “shared values”. For example, it conflates America’s current panic about Mexicans with Islamic terrorism: a (former Israeli soldier) congressman recently made the entirely ludicrous claim that, “Al-Qaeda has camps with the drug cartels on the other side of the border.” Americans who originally hailed from India are courted for support because they too “have much to fear from the Islamic world”.

None of this has indefinite currency, however. With sympathy for and understanding of the plight of the Palestinians at unprecedented levels, Abunimah urges his fellow countrymen to step up to the mark and agitate for a new solution – one state for Arabs and Jews founded on a racial equality and economic justice.

Examining the practicalities in some detail, Abunimah comes up with some controversial suggestions, including that even the illegal settlers could be absorbed into a new state founded on “unmitigated equality”, provided they relinquished their colonial characteristics and settler privileges.

Abunimah devotes his final chapter to revisiting the whole question of self-determination and poses a thorny new question. Given that, under international law, this is a right accorded to peoples who have been liberated from occupation or colonization, can Jews in Palestine/Israel legitimately claim it for themselves?

So, does Abunimah convince that “the Palestinians are winning”?

This reader is persuaded that the two-state solution is beyond repair and that the peace process now benefits only Israel, serving as a smoke screen for more land grabs and settlement building.

A one-state outcome, founded on equality, justice, and peace between Arabs and Jews seems to be to be a solution in which everybody – not just the Palestinians – wins.

There is much that is new in Abunimah’s challenging and thought-provoking book. The only criticism this reader would offer is that there is arguably too much tangential detail and some of the reportage is too America-centric which somewhat lessens its potential international impact.

 – Susan de Muth is a London-based journalist specialising in Middle Eastern politics, literary translation, the environment, the Arts and Music.

The views expressed in this article belong to the author and do not necessarily reflect the editorial policy of Middle East Eye.

Photo credit: Palestinians at a rally marking the 66th anniversary of the Nakba Day in Gaza city on 15 May (AA)

– See more at: http://www.middleeasteye.net/columns/battle-justice-palestine#sthash.guv74Bl0.dpuf

The two-state solution is beyond repair and the peace process now benefits only Israel, serving as a smoke screen for more land grabs

Ali Abunimah opens his new book, The Battle For Justice In Palestine with the startling claim, “The Palestinians Are Winning”. His central thesis is that the world is wising up to Israel, and that the two-state solution is dead after decades of wasted negotiation. A one-state solution – the only choice left, he feels – is to the Palestinians’ advantage.

This is a timely study, given the failure of the latest round of peace talks, but how realistic is this optimism?

Abunimah, who lives in the US, makes an original start by challenging America’s claim to global moral leadership – America being Israel’s protector and main international advocate.

The writer argues that racism remains endemic in the US where it is has been re-directed into the criminalisation and incarceration of disproportionate numbers of black people under the banner of “the war on drugs”; now Muslims have also become a target of this xenophobia in the course of the “war on terror”. Paradoxically, the situation has worsened under Barack Obama and, with seven millions in jail, “America imprisons more of its racial and ethnic minorities than any other country in the world.”

Unsurprisingly, this pattern is mirrored in Israel where Palestinians are routinely detained without charge and kangaroo courts have a conviction rate of 99.75 percent. When it comes to cases against Israeli soldiers for violent attacks on Palestinians, however, 94 percent are dropped.

Like “decent white folks” near an American Black or Latino ghetto, Israel is often portrayed as “living in a tough neighbourhood” where the ‘Arabs’ are a constant menace to their peace and security. Abunimah challenges this myth, together with the notion that Israel is the “only democracy in the Middle East”, describing instead a society as deeply racist and unequal as its American sponsor.

Abunimah revisits the territory of several other books with an exposé of Israel’s colonialism and apartheid machinery, but does so as part of his thesis that the two-state solution is no longer possible. A racist ghetto-isation of the Palestinians into a shrinking (due to illegal settlement building) West Bank and Gaza, and the refusal to allow those in the diaspora the right to return, cannot accommodate their legitimate (and legal) right to self-determination.

In an interesting analysis, Abunimah suggests that Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has admitted the failure of Zionism with his demand that the Palestinians recognize Israel as “a Jewish State”.  “The Zionist project,” Abunimah infers, “can never enjoy legitimacy or stability without the active consent of the Palestinian people.”

The colonialist, apartheid nature of the state of Israel is recognised more widely than ever before, by people, if not governments. Abunimah insists that lasting solutions can only evolve from the grass roots. The growth of the international Palestinian solidarity movement and the Boycott Divestment Sanctions (BDS) movement are crucial developments. The writer urges new, outside the box thinking on the Palestinian question and revisits the recent histories of South Africa and Northern Ireland, describing in (perhaps too intricate) detail the processes by which each achieved a previously unthinkable reconciliation.

Abunimah suggests that the current Palestinian leadership is no longer fit for purpose when Palestinian Authority President, Mahmoud Abbas, can declare, “We do not support the boycott of Israel” – a view which is at odds with the dreams of millions of Palestinians – and technocrats, like former Prime Minister Salman Fayyad, seek to impose an American/IMF agenda.

The wrong leadership at the crucial moment, the writer argues, leads to a new state being “born in chains”.

Abunimah predicts a vigorous battle against the one-state solution by Israel. Tel Aviv’s Reut Institute has warned that the nation’s international popularity and credibility is on the wane and that the BDS movement presents an “existential threat” to the Zionist state. The harbinger of its demise, according to the institute, would be the “collapse of the two-state solution”.

Israel’s muscular Hasbara (propaganda) machine has responded with hyperbolic campaigns including one that compares BDS to “Nazism” and Omar Barghouti’s book on the subject to Mein Kampf.

Abunimah goes into great detail (arguably too much) about the so-called “David Project” run by Hasbara on American university campuses which targets pro-Palestinian students and academics and which he compares to Senator McCarthy’s witch-hunt of communists in the 1950s. The writer might, perhaps, have identified similar actions on campuses in other countries. We have certainly witnessed them in the UK.

Abunimah also relates Israel’s attempts to redeem its PR image by “pinkwashing” and “greenwashing” in order to appeal to Western values. The former sees Israel marketing itself as a “gay paradise” while claiming, as Netanyahu did before Congress, that in Gaza, “Homosexuality is punishable by death”. (Not so, by the way). In one of the book’s rare moments of humour, Abunimah describes a hoax YouTube video in which an Israeli actor pretends to be a pro-Palestinian activist chased away from joining the Gaza flotilla “because he is gay”.

Greenwashing has seen even the Jewish National Fund, the very source of the Zionist project, posing as an “environmental movement”; Abunimah suggests that the “greening” policy is cynically used to grab land from Palestinian villagers and Bedouins and exposes Israel’s actual, appalling, environmental record: the OECD’s Better Life Index ranked Israel 35th (worst) out of 36 for water quality and 27th for air pollution.  Abunimah also identifies a form of “environmental racism” whereby sewage from Israel’s illegal hilltop settlements pollutes Arab farmland and water sources beneath; Israel’s “dirty industries” such as pesticide and chemical plants were relocated to the Arab West Bank after Israeli citizens complained about pollution.

Abunimah interestingly demonstrates how Israel harnesses racism in other cultures to its own advantage, rebranding it “shared values”. For example, it conflates America’s current panic about Mexicans with Islamic terrorism: a (former Israeli soldier) congressman recently made the entirely ludicrous claim that, “Al-Qaeda has camps with the drug cartels on the other side of the border.” Americans who originally hailed from India are courted for support because they too “have much to fear from the Islamic world”.

None of this has indefinite currency, however. With sympathy for and understanding of the plight of the Palestinians at unprecedented levels, Abunimah urges his fellow countrymen to step up to the mark and agitate for a new solution – one state for Arabs and Jews founded on a racial equality and economic justice.

Examining the practicalities in some detail, Abunimah comes up with some controversial suggestions, including that even the illegal settlers could be absorbed into a new state founded on “unmitigated equality”, provided they relinquished their colonial characteristics and settler privileges.

Abunimah devotes his final chapter to revisiting the whole question of self-determination and poses a thorny new question. Given that, under international law, this is a right accorded to peoples who have been liberated from occupation or colonization, can Jews in Palestine/Israel legitimately claim it for themselves?

So, does Abunimah convince that “the Palestinians are winning”?

This reader is persuaded that the two-state solution is beyond repair and that the peace process now benefits only Israel, serving as a smoke screen for more land grabs and settlement building.

A one-state outcome, founded on equality, justice, and peace between Arabs and Jews seems to be to be a solution in which everybody – not just the Palestinians – wins.

There is much that is new in Abunimah’s challenging and thought-provoking book. The only criticism this reader would offer is that there is arguably too much tangential detail and some of the reportage is too America-centric which somewhat lessens its potential international impact.

 – Susan de Muth is a London-based journalist specialising in Middle Eastern politics, literary translation, the environment, the Arts and Music.

The views expressed in this article belong to the author and do not necessarily reflect the editorial policy of Middle East Eye.

Photo credit: Palestinians at a rally marking the 66th anniversary of the Nakba Day in Gaza city on 15 May (AA)

– See more at: http://www.middleeasteye.net/columns/battle-justice-palestine#sthash.guv74Bl0.dpuf

My review of ‘Deception in High Places’ by Nicholas Gilby

Deception cover

In ‘Deception in High Places’ (Pluto Press) Nicholas Gilby traces the history of corruption in the Arms Trade – with particular emphasis on Britain’s fifty-year relationship with Saudi Arabia – and seeks to prove that ministers of state and other top officials knew about, approved, and colluded to conceal, millions of pounds worth of bribes over the decades.

The book is largely the result of Gilby’s nine-year forensic trawl through government records, many of them previously unseen and obtained through Freedom of Information battles with the Foreign and Commonwealth office.

Gilby’s history culminates with contemporary scandals surrounding Al Yamamah – the biggest ever arms deal in history. These are the subject of ongoing, in-depth scrutiny elsewhere – the Guardian, Private Eye and Exaro for example – but uniquely interesting in Gilby’s book are the seven out of his nine chapters which chronicle the evolution of ‘grand corruption’ and its widespread acceptance at the heart of the British establishment.

At times a little dry, more colourful interludes derive from private papers and letters Gilby has also uncovered. He takes an almost Rabelaisian delight in detailing the lavish ‘sweeteners’, worth millions of pounds, that BAE heaped upon Saudi Prince Turki bin Nasser and his family under the cryptically entitled ‘Al Yamamah benefits programme’.

[can omit: ‘Benefits’ included the 1995 hire of a large freighter jet to transport Princess Noura’s Rolls Royce and furniture from America to Saudi Arabia, purchasing and running a professional film unit and studio to record a family wedding, and a £55,000 restaurant visit to Maxime de Paris.]

Gilby starts his narrative in 1964, when there were ‘only six British businessmen in Saudi Arabia’. Pioneering arms agent, Geoffrey Edwards, was one of these and he worked hard to procure large sales for the British Aircraft Corporation (BAC). From the outset, governments were involved and ‘sweeteners’ or ‘douceurs’ worth millions in today’s money were part of the deal.

When BAC found itself competing with American firms for a huge 1965 Saudi Arms deal via Edwards and Lockheed’s new agent, Adnan Khashoggi , a joint deal was brokered by the Pentagon; documents show that Harold Wilson’s government knew that 7.5 percent of the British firm’s £1.5 billion share was designated for ‘special commissions’ to top Saudis including the Minister of Defence.

Since 1968, the British Government has had a dedicated arms marketing department within the Ministry of Defence, using its network of Ambassadors and Military attachés to identify opportunities and promote UK manufacturers. Gilby shows how these officials were aware of the bribery involved in procuring contracts. Willie Morris, UK Ambassador to Saudi Arabia in the late 1960s, perfected the art of the ‘deniable fiddle’, kept a file on corruption and had a list of ‘who pays whom in the Kingdom’.

This enduring template for systemic bribery, established fifty years ago, is more easily excavated than those which followed in an increasingly crowded and complicated market.

Gilby implies a deeply entrenched, amoral attitude to arms deals throughout the establishment, and collusion between its various branches to achieve desired outcomes: in the 1970s, ‘special commissions’ paid to British subjects were routinely reported to the Inland Revenue because such payments were ‘tax-deductible’; companies also told the Bank of England about them in order to comply with Exchange Control regulations, and the Bank asked the Treasury to agree any commission over 10% of the contract value.

When Edwards sued the British company Associated Electrical Industries for unpaid commissions in 1974, diplomats briefed the company on editing and codifying potentially incriminating documents which might ‘damage Britain’s commercial interests’ and provoke a public outcry for anti-corruption legislation.

Another would-be litigant, Shapoor Reporter, who lubricated many arms deals with Iran, dropped his case against the Ministry of Defence when the Inland Revenue suddenly developed an interest in his bank accounts.

Gilby highlights a cynical disregard, among successive British governments, for how the arms being brokered might be used; as well as the Saudis and Iranians, other famously oppressive clients included Indonesia’s President Suharto.

Gilby details the history of anti-corruption legislation and shows how even well-intentioned laws were cynically manipulated by both sides to enhance their own positions. The Saudis were the first to institute a ban on bribery in 1968, shortly followed by the Lebanese and Iranians. Nevertheless, members of each government carried on asking for, and receiving, bribes; as Gilby acerbically comments: ‘the Shah’s anti-corruption campaign… wanted to limit all pay-offs to himself and his family’.

US President Jimmy Carter’s Foreign Corrupt Practices Act of 1977 was gleefully received in Whitehall where huge commissions on two new government-to-government arms deals with Saudi Arabia were being approved. Britain now had the advantage over the Americans since the Pentagon could no longer compete on ‘sweeteners’.

Gilby documents the British government’s resistance, throughout the 1970s, to UN and OECD-led calls for international agreements against corruption. Although British officials attended working groups, they were briefed to delay or disrupt progress. A Ministerial Group on Improper Trade Practises expressed relief when a major loophole in the first draft agreement was spotted, advising: ‘a company will be able to evade the agreement entirely, merely by employing non-nationals to carry out corruption for it abroad.’

An evaluation of the impact of America’s anti-bribery legislation found that 30 percent of exporters had lost business because of it. This prompted Margaret Thatcher’s Trade Secretary John Nott to announce, in 1979, that he would not be party to ‘any move which would seriously impede British exporters to the Middle East’. It would be twenty years before Britain finally signed the OECD Anti-Bribery Convention and the UK’s own Bribery Act did not come into force until July 2011.

Margaret Thatcher instructed Defence Secretary Francis Pym to ‘exploit all possible opportunities to extend overseas markets for defence sales’ and the seeds for Al Yamamah were sown. Subsequent British governments of all hues have diligently tended to this lucrative, ongoing, source of contracts and the establishment has backed them up.

In December 2006, the Blair government pressured the SFO to drop its corruption investigations into Al Yamamah. Ministers feared that revelations about the huge bribes involved would anger the Saudis and prompt them to pull out of the next stage. Just one month later, a large new order was placed and later in the year, King Abdullah arrived in London on a State visit which culminated in a banquet at Buckingham Palace.

In 2012, the SFO launched another investigation into a Saudi-British deal after an executive at defence giant, GPT, whistle-blew about suspicious payments being channelled via Ministry of Defence intermediary Sangcom. Gilby’s conclusion that ‘plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose’ is born out by the recent news that this enquiry, too, has apparently been discreetly dropped.

If the book has a flaw, it is its failure to place the arms deals it discusses into a wider political context – it is particularly woolly in the section on Lebanon, for example – but it nods to the Arab Spring and the combustive effect on those revolutions of deception in high places.

Ending with a call for greater transparency and more robust, enforceable, anti-corruption legislation, Gilby produces some well-reasoned answers to the most commonly offered justifications for bribery. If ‘everybody does it’ and it’s part of ‘their’ culture, he argues, why would the Saudi regime have issued anti-corruption decrees in 1968, 1975 and 1978, and gone to such extreme lengths to keep their activities secret?

‘Deception in High Places’ is an intriguing and worthwhile read for researchers, campaigners, students of politics and international law, and anyone interested in the darker recesses of governmental politics and human morality.

This review was first published 14 April 2014 in Middle East Eye on-line newspaper

 

 

BOOK REVIEW: Deception in High Places by Nicholas Gilby

In ‘Deception in High Places’, Nicholas Gilby traces the history of corruption in the Arms Trade – with particular emphasis on Britain’s 50-year relationship with Saudi Arabia.

Susan Demuth's picture

Deception in High Places: A History of Bribery in Britain’s Arms Trade by Nicholas Gilby. Hardcover: 256 pages. Publisher: Pluto Press (20 May 2014). Language: English, ISBN-10: 074533427X

This book is largely the result of a nine-year forensic trawl through government records, many of them previously unseen and obtained through Freedom of Information battles with the Foreign and Commonwealth office. Gilby seeks to prove that UK ministers of state and other top officials knew about, approved, and colluded to conceal, millions of pounds worth of arms-related bribes from over the decades.

Gilby’s history culminates with contemporary scandals surrounding Al Yamamah – the biggest ever arms deal in history. These are the subject of ongoing, in-depth scrutiny elsewhere – the Guardian, Private Eye and Exaro for example – but uniquely interesting in Gilby’s book are the seven out of his nine chapters which chronicle the evolution of “grand corruption” and its widespread acceptance at the heart of the British establishment.

At times a little dry, more colourful interludes derive from private papers and letters Gilby has also uncovered. He takes an almost Rabelaisian delight in detailing the lavish “sweeteners”, worth millions of pounds,  that BAE heaped upon Saudi Prince Turki bin Nasser and his family under the cryptically entitled “Al Yamamah benefits programme”.

 

Deception in High Places: A History of Bribery in Britain’s Arms Trade

“Benefits” included the 1995 hire of a large freighter jet to transport Princess Noura’s Rolls Royce and furniture from America to Saudi Arabia, purchasing and running a professional film unit and studio to record a family wedding, and a £55,000 restaurant visit to Maxime de Paris.

Gilby starts his narrative in 1964, when there were “only six British businessmen in Saudi Arabia”. Pioneering arms agent, Geoffrey Edwards, was one of these and he worked hard to procure large sales for the British Aircraft Corporation (BAC). From the outset, governments were involved and ‘sweeteners’ or ‘douceurs’ worth millions in today’s money were part of the deal.

When BAC found itself competing with American firms for a huge 1965 Saudi Arms deal via Edwards and Lockheed’s new agent, Adnan Khashoggi , a joint deal was brokered by the Pentagon; documents show that Harold Wilson’s government knew that 7.5 percent of the British firm’s £1.5 billion share was designated for ‘special commissions’ to top Saudis including the Minister of Defence.

Since 1968, the British government has had a dedicated arms marketing department within the Ministry of Defence, using its network of ambassadors and military attaches to identify opportunities and promote UK manufacturers. Gilby shows how these officials were aware of the bribery involved in procuring contracts. Willie Morris, UK Ambassador to Saudi Arabia in the late 1960s, perfected the art of the “deniable fiddle”, kept a file on corruption and had a list of ‘who pays whom in the Kingdom’.

This enduring template for systemic bribery, established 50 years ago, is more easily excavated than those which followed in an increasingly crowded and complicated market.

Gilby implies a deeply entrenched, amoral attitude to arms deals throughout the establishment, and collusion between its various branches to achieve desired outcomes: in the 1970s, “special commissions” paid to British subjects were routinely reported to the Inland Revenue because such payments were “tax-deductible”; companies also told the Bank of England about them in order to comply with Exchange Control regulations, and the bank asked the Treasury to agree any commission over 10% of the contract value.

When Edwards sued the British company Associated Electrical Industries for unpaid commissions in 1974, diplomats briefed the company on editing and codifying potentially incriminating documents which might “damage Britain’s commercial interests” and provoke a public outcry for anti-corruption legislation.

Another would-be litigant, Shapoor Reporter, who lubricated many arms deals with Iran, dropped his case against the Ministry of Defence when the Inland Revenue suddenly developed an interest in his bank accounts.

Gilby highlights a cynical disregard, among successive British governments, for how the arms being brokered might be used; as well as the Saudis and Iranians, other famously oppressive clients included Indonesia’s president Suharto.

Gilby details the history of anti-corruption legislation and shows how even well-intentioned laws were cynically manipulated by both sides to enhance their own positions. The Saudis were the first to institute a ban on bribery in 1968, shortly followed by the Lebanese and Iranians. Nevertheless, members of each government carried on asking for, and receiving, bribes; as Gilby acerbically comments: “the Shah’s anti-corruption campaign… wanted to limit all pay-offs to himself and his family”.

US president Jimmy Carter’s Foreign Corrupt Practices Act of 1977 was gleefully received in Whitehall where huge commissions on two new government-to-government arms deals with Saudi Arabia were being approved. Britain now had the advantage over the Americans since the Pentagon could no longer compete on “sweeteners”.

Gilby documents the British government’s resistance, throughout the 1970s, to UN and Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD)-led calls for international agreements against corruption. Although British officials attended working groups, they were briefed to delay or disrupt progress. A Ministerial Group on Improper Trade Practises expressed relief when a major loophole in the first draft agreement was spotted, advising: “a company will be able to evade the agreement entirely, merely by employing non-nationals to carry out corruption for it abroad”.

An evaluation of the impact of America’s anti-bribery legislation found that 30 percent of exporters had lost business because of it. This prompted Margaret Thatcher’s trade secretary John Nott to announce, in 1979, that he would not be party to “any move which would seriously impede British exporters to the Middle East”. It would be 20 years before Britain finally signed the OECD Anti-Bribery Convention and the UK’s own Bribery Act did not come into force until July 2011.

Margaret Thatcher instructed Defence Secretary Francis Pym to ‘exploit all possible opportunities to extend overseas markets for defence sales’ and the seeds for Al Yamamah were sown. Subsequent British governments of all hues have diligently tended to this lucrative, ongoing, source of contracts and the establishment has backed them up.

In December 2006, the Blair government pressured the SFO to drop its corruption investigations into Al Yamamah. Ministers feared that revelations about the huge bribes involved would anger the Saudis and prompt them to pull out of the next stage.  Just one month later, a large new order was placed and later in the year, King Abdullah arrived in London on a State visit which culminated in a banquet at Buckingham Palace.

In 2012, the SFO launched another investigation into a Saudi-British deal after an executive at defence giant, GPT, whistle-blew about suspicious payments being channelled via Ministry of Defence intermediary Sangcom. Gilby’s conclusion that ‘plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose’ is born out by the recent news that this enquiry, too, has apparently been discreetly dropped.

If the book has a flaw, it is its failure to place the arms deals it discusses into a wider political context – it is particularly woolly in the section on Lebanon, for example – but it nods to the Arab Spring and the combustive effect on those revolutions of deception in high places.

Ending with a call for greater transparency and more robust, enforceable, anti-corruption legislation, Gilby produces some well-reasoned answers to the most commonly offered justifications for bribery. If ‘everybody does it’ and it’s part of ‘their’ culture, he argues, why would the Saudi regime have issued anti-corruption decrees in 1968, 1975 and 1978, and gone to such extreme lengths to keep their activities secret?

Deception in High Places is an intriguing and worthwhile read for researchers, campaigners, students of politics and international law, and anyone interested in the darker recesses of governmental politics and human morality.

 

– See more at: http://www.middleeasteye.net/culture/book-review-deception-high-places-nicholas-gilby#sthash.cUrcHrAd.dpuf

BOOK REVIEW: Deception in High Places by Nicholas Gilby

In ‘Deception in High Places’, Nicholas Gilby traces the history of corruption in the Arms Trade – with particular emphasis on Britain’s 50-year relationship with Saudi Arabia.

Susan Demuth's picture

Deception in High Places: A History of Bribery in Britain’s Arms Trade by Nicholas Gilby. Hardcover: 256 pages. Publisher: Pluto Press (20 May 2014). Language: English, ISBN-10: 074533427X

This book is largely the result of a nine-year forensic trawl through government records, many of them previously unseen and obtained through Freedom of Information battles with the Foreign and Commonwealth office. Gilby seeks to prove that UK ministers of state and other top officials knew about, approved, and colluded to conceal, millions of pounds worth of arms-related bribes from over the decades.

Gilby’s history culminates with contemporary scandals surrounding Al Yamamah – the biggest ever arms deal in history. These are the subject of ongoing, in-depth scrutiny elsewhere – the Guardian, Private Eye and Exaro for example – but uniquely interesting in Gilby’s book are the seven out of his nine chapters which chronicle the evolution of “grand corruption” and its widespread acceptance at the heart of the British establishment.

At times a little dry, more colourful interludes derive from private papers and letters Gilby has also uncovered. He takes an almost Rabelaisian delight in detailing the lavish “sweeteners”, worth millions of pounds,  that BAE heaped upon Saudi Prince Turki bin Nasser and his family under the cryptically entitled “Al Yamamah benefits programme”.

 

Deception in High Places: A History of Bribery in Britain’s Arms Trade

“Benefits” included the 1995 hire of a large freighter jet to transport Princess Noura’s Rolls Royce and furniture from America to Saudi Arabia, purchasing and running a professional film unit and studio to record a family wedding, and a £55,000 restaurant visit to Maxime de Paris.

Gilby starts his narrative in 1964, when there were “only six British businessmen in Saudi Arabia”. Pioneering arms agent, Geoffrey Edwards, was one of these and he worked hard to procure large sales for the British Aircraft Corporation (BAC). From the outset, governments were involved and ‘sweeteners’ or ‘douceurs’ worth millions in today’s money were part of the deal.

When BAC found itself competing with American firms for a huge 1965 Saudi Arms deal via Edwards and Lockheed’s new agent, Adnan Khashoggi , a joint deal was brokered by the Pentagon; documents show that Harold Wilson’s government knew that 7.5 percent of the British firm’s £1.5 billion share was designated for ‘special commissions’ to top Saudis including the Minister of Defence.

Since 1968, the British government has had a dedicated arms marketing department within the Ministry of Defence, using its network of ambassadors and military attaches to identify opportunities and promote UK manufacturers. Gilby shows how these officials were aware of the bribery involved in procuring contracts. Willie Morris, UK Ambassador to Saudi Arabia in the late 1960s, perfected the art of the “deniable fiddle”, kept a file on corruption and had a list of ‘who pays whom in the Kingdom’.

This enduring template for systemic bribery, established 50 years ago, is more easily excavated than those which followed in an increasingly crowded and complicated market.

Gilby implies a deeply entrenched, amoral attitude to arms deals throughout the establishment, and collusion between its various branches to achieve desired outcomes: in the 1970s, “special commissions” paid to British subjects were routinely reported to the Inland Revenue because such payments were “tax-deductible”; companies also told the Bank of England about them in order to comply with Exchange Control regulations, and the bank asked the Treasury to agree any commission over 10% of the contract value.

When Edwards sued the British company Associated Electrical Industries for unpaid commissions in 1974, diplomats briefed the company on editing and codifying potentially incriminating documents which might “damage Britain’s commercial interests” and provoke a public outcry for anti-corruption legislation.

Another would-be litigant, Shapoor Reporter, who lubricated many arms deals with Iran, dropped his case against the Ministry of Defence when the Inland Revenue suddenly developed an interest in his bank accounts.

Gilby highlights a cynical disregard, among successive British governments, for how the arms being brokered might be used; as well as the Saudis and Iranians, other famously oppressive clients included Indonesia’s president Suharto.

Gilby details the history of anti-corruption legislation and shows how even well-intentioned laws were cynically manipulated by both sides to enhance their own positions. The Saudis were the first to institute a ban on bribery in 1968, shortly followed by the Lebanese and Iranians. Nevertheless, members of each government carried on asking for, and receiving, bribes; as Gilby acerbically comments: “the Shah’s anti-corruption campaign… wanted to limit all pay-offs to himself and his family”.

US president Jimmy Carter’s Foreign Corrupt Practices Act of 1977 was gleefully received in Whitehall where huge commissions on two new government-to-government arms deals with Saudi Arabia were being approved. Britain now had the advantage over the Americans since the Pentagon could no longer compete on “sweeteners”.

Gilby documents the British government’s resistance, throughout the 1970s, to UN and Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD)-led calls for international agreements against corruption. Although British officials attended working groups, they were briefed to delay or disrupt progress. A Ministerial Group on Improper Trade Practises expressed relief when a major loophole in the first draft agreement was spotted, advising: “a company will be able to evade the agreement entirely, merely by employing non-nationals to carry out corruption for it abroad”.

An evaluation of the impact of America’s anti-bribery legislation found that 30 percent of exporters had lost business because of it. This prompted Margaret Thatcher’s trade secretary John Nott to announce, in 1979, that he would not be party to “any move which would seriously impede British exporters to the Middle East”. It would be 20 years before Britain finally signed the OECD Anti-Bribery Convention and the UK’s own Bribery Act did not come into force until July 2011.

Margaret Thatcher instructed Defence Secretary Francis Pym to ‘exploit all possible opportunities to extend overseas markets for defence sales’ and the seeds for Al Yamamah were sown. Subsequent British governments of all hues have diligently tended to this lucrative, ongoing, source of contracts and the establishment has backed them up.

In December 2006, the Blair government pressured the SFO to drop its corruption investigations into Al Yamamah. Ministers feared that revelations about the huge bribes involved would anger the Saudis and prompt them to pull out of the next stage.  Just one month later, a large new order was placed and later in the year, King Abdullah arrived in London on a State visit which culminated in a banquet at Buckingham Palace.

In 2012, the SFO launched another investigation into a Saudi-British deal after an executive at defence giant, GPT, whistle-blew about suspicious payments being channelled via Ministry of Defence intermediary Sangcom. Gilby’s conclusion that ‘plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose’ is born out by the recent news that this enquiry, too, has apparently been discreetly dropped.

If the book has a flaw, it is its failure to place the arms deals it discusses into a wider political context – it is particularly woolly in the section on Lebanon, for example – but it nods to the Arab Spring and the combustive effect on those revolutions of deception in high places.

Ending with a call for greater transparency and more robust, enforceable, anti-corruption legislation, Gilby produces some well-reasoned answers to the most commonly offered justifications for bribery. If ‘everybody does it’ and it’s part of ‘their’ culture, he argues, why would the Saudi regime have issued anti-corruption decrees in 1968, 1975 and 1978, and gone to such extreme lengths to keep their activities secret?

Deception in High Places is an intriguing and worthwhile read for researchers, campaigners, students of politics and international law, and anyone interested in the darker recesses of governmental politics and human morality.

 

– See more at: http://www.middleeasteye.net/culture/book-review-deception-high-places-nicholas-gilby#sthash.cUrcHrAd.dpuf

BOOK REVIEW: Deception in High Places by Nicholas Gilby

In ‘Deception in High Places’, Nicholas Gilby traces the history of corruption in the Arms Trade – with particular emphasis on Britain’s 50-year relationship with Saudi Arabia.

Susan Demuth's picture

Deception in High Places: A History of Bribery in Britain’s Arms Trade by Nicholas Gilby. Hardcover: 256 pages. Publisher: Pluto Press (20 May 2014). Language: English, ISBN-10: 074533427X

This book is largely the result of a nine-year forensic trawl through government records, many of them previously unseen and obtained through Freedom of Information battles with the Foreign and Commonwealth office. Gilby seeks to prove that UK ministers of state and other top officials knew about, approved, and colluded to conceal, millions of pounds worth of arms-related bribes from over the decades.

Gilby’s history culminates with contemporary scandals surrounding Al Yamamah – the biggest ever arms deal in history. These are the subject of ongoing, in-depth scrutiny elsewhere – the Guardian, Private Eye and Exaro for example – but uniquely interesting in Gilby’s book are the seven out of his nine chapters which chronicle the evolution of “grand corruption” and its widespread acceptance at the heart of the British establishment.

At times a little dry, more colourful interludes derive from private papers and letters Gilby has also uncovered. He takes an almost Rabelaisian delight in detailing the lavish “sweeteners”, worth millions of pounds,  that BAE heaped upon Saudi Prince Turki bin Nasser and his family under the cryptically entitled “Al Yamamah benefits programme”.

 

Deception in High Places: A History of Bribery in Britain’s Arms Trade

“Benefits” included the 1995 hire of a large freighter jet to transport Princess Noura’s Rolls Royce and furniture from America to Saudi Arabia, purchasing and running a professional film unit and studio to record a family wedding, and a £55,000 restaurant visit to Maxime de Paris.

Gilby starts his narrative in 1964, when there were “only six British businessmen in Saudi Arabia”. Pioneering arms agent, Geoffrey Edwards, was one of these and he worked hard to procure large sales for the British Aircraft Corporation (BAC). From the outset, governments were involved and ‘sweeteners’ or ‘douceurs’ worth millions in today’s money were part of the deal.

When BAC found itself competing with American firms for a huge 1965 Saudi Arms deal via Edwards and Lockheed’s new agent, Adnan Khashoggi , a joint deal was brokered by the Pentagon; documents show that Harold Wilson’s government knew that 7.5 percent of the British firm’s £1.5 billion share was designated for ‘special commissions’ to top Saudis including the Minister of Defence.

Since 1968, the British government has had a dedicated arms marketing department within the Ministry of Defence, using its network of ambassadors and military attaches to identify opportunities and promote UK manufacturers. Gilby shows how these officials were aware of the bribery involved in procuring contracts. Willie Morris, UK Ambassador to Saudi Arabia in the late 1960s, perfected the art of the “deniable fiddle”, kept a file on corruption and had a list of ‘who pays whom in the Kingdom’.

This enduring template for systemic bribery, established 50 years ago, is more easily excavated than those which followed in an increasingly crowded and complicated market.

Gilby implies a deeply entrenched, amoral attitude to arms deals throughout the establishment, and collusion between its various branches to achieve desired outcomes: in the 1970s, “special commissions” paid to British subjects were routinely reported to the Inland Revenue because such payments were “tax-deductible”; companies also told the Bank of England about them in order to comply with Exchange Control regulations, and the bank asked the Treasury to agree any commission over 10% of the contract value.

When Edwards sued the British company Associated Electrical Industries for unpaid commissions in 1974, diplomats briefed the company on editing and codifying potentially incriminating documents which might “damage Britain’s commercial interests” and provoke a public outcry for anti-corruption legislation.

Another would-be litigant, Shapoor Reporter, who lubricated many arms deals with Iran, dropped his case against the Ministry of Defence when the Inland Revenue suddenly developed an interest in his bank accounts.

Gilby highlights a cynical disregard, among successive British governments, for how the arms being brokered might be used; as well as the Saudis and Iranians, other famously oppressive clients included Indonesia’s president Suharto.

Gilby details the history of anti-corruption legislation and shows how even well-intentioned laws were cynically manipulated by both sides to enhance their own positions. The Saudis were the first to institute a ban on bribery in 1968, shortly followed by the Lebanese and Iranians. Nevertheless, members of each government carried on asking for, and receiving, bribes; as Gilby acerbically comments: “the Shah’s anti-corruption campaign… wanted to limit all pay-offs to himself and his family”.

US president Jimmy Carter’s Foreign Corrupt Practices Act of 1977 was gleefully received in Whitehall where huge commissions on two new government-to-government arms deals with Saudi Arabia were being approved. Britain now had the advantage over the Americans since the Pentagon could no longer compete on “sweeteners”.

Gilby documents the British government’s resistance, throughout the 1970s, to UN and Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD)-led calls for international agreements against corruption. Although British officials attended working groups, they were briefed to delay or disrupt progress. A Ministerial Group on Improper Trade Practises expressed relief when a major loophole in the first draft agreement was spotted, advising: “a company will be able to evade the agreement entirely, merely by employing non-nationals to carry out corruption for it abroad”.

An evaluation of the impact of America’s anti-bribery legislation found that 30 percent of exporters had lost business because of it. This prompted Margaret Thatcher’s trade secretary John Nott to announce, in 1979, that he would not be party to “any move which would seriously impede British exporters to the Middle East”. It would be 20 years before Britain finally signed the OECD Anti-Bribery Convention and the UK’s own Bribery Act did not come into force until July 2011.

Margaret Thatcher instructed Defence Secretary Francis Pym to ‘exploit all possible opportunities to extend overseas markets for defence sales’ and the seeds for Al Yamamah were sown. Subsequent British governments of all hues have diligently tended to this lucrative, ongoing, source of contracts and the establishment has backed them up.

In December 2006, the Blair government pressured the SFO to drop its corruption investigations into Al Yamamah. Ministers feared that revelations about the huge bribes involved would anger the Saudis and prompt them to pull out of the next stage.  Just one month later, a large new order was placed and later in the year, King Abdullah arrived in London on a State visit which culminated in a banquet at Buckingham Palace.

In 2012, the SFO launched another investigation into a Saudi-British deal after an executive at defence giant, GPT, whistle-blew about suspicious payments being channelled via Ministry of Defence intermediary Sangcom. Gilby’s conclusion that ‘plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose’ is born out by the recent news that this enquiry, too, has apparently been discreetly dropped.

If the book has a flaw, it is its failure to place the arms deals it discusses into a wider political context – it is particularly woolly in the section on Lebanon, for example – but it nods to the Arab Spring and the combustive effect on those revolutions of deception in high places.

Ending with a call for greater transparency and more robust, enforceable, anti-corruption legislation, Gilby produces some well-reasoned answers to the most commonly offered justifications for bribery. If ‘everybody does it’ and it’s part of ‘their’ culture, he argues, why would the Saudi regime have issued anti-corruption decrees in 1968, 1975 and 1978, and gone to such extreme lengths to keep their activities secret?

Deception in High Places is an intriguing and worthwhile read for researchers, campaigners, students of politics and international law, and anyone interested in the darker recesses of governmental politics and human morality.

 

– See more at: http://www.middleeasteye.net/culture/book-review-deception-high-places-nicholas-gilby#sthash.cUrcHrAd.dpuf

‘The Hangover 3’: 2013 Number 1 Hit in ‘Alcohol-dry’ UAE!

Hangover-3-ReviewThis year the most popular film in the ‘alcohol- dry’ UAE is ‘The Hangover III’ with 195,000 admissions. The film trilogy features three hapless dudes constantly waking up bleary-eyed and hideous after another night’s debauchery. Strange, no?

The runners-up were After Earth (141,000 admissions),White House Down (200,000), Snitch (105,000), The Smurfs 2 (222,000), The Lone Ranger (110,000).

Led by the UAE, the Gulf states have now become one of the world’s hungriest consumers of all that Hollywood cares to throw at them.

According to Ryan Kavanaugh, CEO of Relativity Media, speaking at last month’s American Film Market (AFM) finance conference: “We have seen massive one thousand percent growth in the Middle East in the last three years.”

Relativity has announced it is extending its Middle East distribution partnership with Q Media which owns just about everything to do with film including the massive Grand Cinemas chain and Gulf Film. Q Media ‘works closely’ with the Doha Film Institute.

The problem for genuine Arab film making artists is that the major beneficiaries of this remain the Hollywood studios and the larger US independents such as Relativity and Lionsgate (which has just supplied Gulf Film with The Hunger Games: Catching Fire).

Other than a handful of buffoonish comedies from Egypt, such as this year’s Tattah and Samir Abu El Nil, most Arab indie films have to pin their hopes on Video on Demand (VoD) as their primary viewing platform, as do many specialised and art-house titles from the US or Europe.

Bollywood remains popular due to the region’s large migrant populations.

You could say that the market is now pretty much sewn-up by the Sheikhs and Hollywood. Trebles all round!…

Excellent review of my translation of ‘Guarding bin Laden’

Book review: ‘Guarding Bin Laden’

The Al Qaida leader is portrayed as a person — with his failings — than as a man who inspired only awe

    • Reviewed by Faryal Leghari Deputy Opinion Editor
    • Published: 21:30 August 1, 2013
    • Gulf News

 

  • Image Credit: Supplied
  • Nasser Al Bahri’s tale of parting ways with Al Qaida and starting afresh also holds important lessons

Guarding Bin Laden: My life in Al Qaida

By his former bodyguard Nasser Al Bahri,(with Georges Malbrunot)

English translation by Susan de Muth,

Thin Man Press, 238 pages, $14.95

 

Terror sells and any publication centred around Al Qaida naturally makes a more compelling case. Despite the interest it generates by default, the terror group’s ability to grasp readers’ attention may have been watered down over the past decade by the deluge of publications that have maintained a steady flow. So it was with a preconceived “been there done that” mindset that I picked up the translated version of the memoirs of Nasser Al Bahri, who served as Osama Bin Laden’s personal bodyguard from 1997 to 2000.

So much for pre-judgments. Guarding Bin Laden is much more than what may be called an “interesting narrative” — it is an exposé of the inner workings of Al Qaida and offers readers a rare glimpse into the mindset of the central leadership of the organisation.

I expect it to lure a wide readership, not just of students and researchers interested in learning about how the world’s most powerful terrorist entity works. Moreover, it shatters many misconceptions — of indoctrination and training of recruits and of the relationship of Bin Laden with members of his organisation, including other members of Al Qaida’s core or central committee. It is equally fascinating to learn about how the core group under Bin Laden took decisions, whether it was launching terror attacks, allowing allegiance to local groups and resistance militias to become part of Al Qaida or formulating policies of not attacking civilians or launching attacks in countries deemed friendly or useful, to the organisation.

While the death of Bin Laden in May 2011 would have ideally proven a death knell for Al Qaida, it has sustained itself by proliferating and launching new fronts worldwide. No doubt the capture and killings of many Al Qaida core leaders and of course Shaikh Bin Laden, the founder and chief of Al Qaida, has dealt it a blow, but it has managed to continue working towards realising its objectives.

The doctrine of Al Qaida that Al Bahri lays down in simple terms is “reaction” — to the American invasion of Muslims lands and to them killing Muslims. It is the duty then of Arabs, according to the mandate of Al Qaida, to mobilise people and wage a struggle against the injustices perpetrated by the Americans. Though Al Bahri’s account is only up to 2010, before Bin Laden was killed in Abottabad, in northern Pakistan, by US Navy Seals, it lays down the parameters for us, external observers, to understand the methodology and functioning of the group.

Post 9/11 Al Qaida may have figured as the primary opponent of the United States and other world powers that joined forces to wage a war against a movement that was both amorphous and self-perpetuating. While a decade and more of counter-terrorism operations have seen a visible diminishing of Al Qaida’s ability to launch global attacks, it remains a potent threat, having entrenched itself in resistance movements whose driving force is standing up to Western influence and intervention, direct or indirect, in Muslim lands.

The scope of Al Bahri’s memoirs therefore extends far beyond the proscribed time-frame the book encompasses. Its relevance is timeless.

The details of Al Bahri’s journey from a zealous young man seeking martyrdom to the time he becomes Bin Laden’s personal bodyguard sketch a vivid, turbulent picture, changing at every instance. What many young people in the Muslim world may empathise with is the lure of the call for jihad that is portrayed poignantly in Al Bahri’s quest to seek the ultimate goal — of dying while fighting to help oppressed fellow Muslims, whether in Bosnia, Afghanistan, Chechnya or Somalia.

For the jihadist, the locale is not what matters; neither are the fights he engages in— a matter of identifying to a personal cause, but it is the overriding element of sacrificing one’s self for the sake of other Muslims who are suffering at the hands of infidel occupiers and oppressors, which is the ultimate sacrifice.

Al Bahri’s account of his endeavours as a teenager in Saudi Arabia to go on Jihad is what sets the pace of the book. And it is what takes him to Afghanistan where he meets Bin Laden and gets to know him personally. But before Al Bahri delves into his account of interacting with the Al Qaida leader, giving us a glimpse into the daily goings on at the headquarters in Tarnak Farm, in Afghanistan, other interesting questions are thrown in the course of the narrative.

What is particularly interesting is the discussions of the conduct of the Saudi royal family and the manipulation of events by the religious hierarchy in the kingdom. The wealth and power and its exploitation and abuse by the ruling family in contradiction to what Islam teaches is often referred to in the talks Al Bahri as a young man has with other compatriots.

Even when he narrates a discussion with his father who dissuades him from leaving for jihad by throwing to him a simple argument, it is easy to discern the lesson that discussion may have left somewhere on his impressionable mind, a message he managed to bury in his subconscious under his growing zeal to go at all costs.

His father is the voice of reason, a religious man who prays regularly but one who is not swayed by the siren call of the jihadists. Interestingly, Al Bahri gives us a rare glimpse into what it must have felt to be part of the frenzy gripping hundreds and thousands of young men like him, whose ultimate goal is to be part of the jihad brigades. The air is electric with zeal, enthusiasm and a belief in one’s devotion to the cause of self sacrifice. The environment in Saudi Arabia at the time and the crackdown on Al Qaida members later by the Saudi authorities is vividly captured here. More so is the way money is arranged and utilised to send the jihadists around the world.

Al Bahri’s initial mention of Bin Laden is in Saudi Arabia. At the time Bin Laden would be seen driving around Jeddah with his children or attending religious discussions. In stark contrast is the time we encounter Bin Laden again at Tarnak camp in Afghanistan, a man who then commanded Al Qaida’s empire with tentacles reaching far and wide. Surprisingly Bin Laden’s persona brought to us in this account is not of a man who inspires fear or awe. Al Bahri himself resists the Bayt on the shaikh’s hands until a much later time when he finally cedes and follows him without question, becoming an integral part of the organisation.

Al Bahri’s role is cut out for him. It is here that we learn about Bin Laden’s personal preferences, his spartan nature, his wisdom and his qualities as a leader — especially when he allowed his subordinates to question and openly engage in debate, unlike other central figures in Al Qaida. Al Bahri’s comparison of Bin Laden and Ayman Al Zawahiri is particularly interesting as is the internal power struggle between the Egyptian Al Qaida members led by Zawahiri and Saif Al Adel and the Yemenis and other Arab Al Qaida members.

There are more glimpses into Bin Laden’s personal life and his relations with his family members, which provide interesting insights into the man who comes across as a soft spoken, amiable yet contradictory personality. Contradictory, because even as he inspired blind obedience and allegiance among thousands, he, as Al Bahri shows us, was given to weaknesses — significantly of being influenced by his cohorts, of not investigating for himself certain cases and arriving at judgments based on what others led him to believe.

By pledging bayt to Mullah Omar, the head of the Taliban, Bin Laden, in Al Bahri’s words, had diminished Al Qaida’s stature and role by decentralising his organisation and subsuming it with the Taliban. It may have been because of the fact that Al Qaida, numbering a few thousand at the time in Afghanistan, did not have much choice and colluded for the sake of expediency, since it had not prepared another base (purported to be either Somalia or Yemen) to move lock, stock and barrel.

Al Bahri’s decision to part ways with Al Qaida and the journey this break from Bin Laden takes him on is in itself interesting. The account of his struggle to carve out a new but ordinary life, having lived like a jihadi most of his life, his subsequent arrest, captivity and rehabilitation mark another phase in the turbulent narrative that also offers useful insights for the rehabilitation of those that have been radicalised.

The self critique though subdued is enough answer to those questions that arise by default pertaining to jihad, the reasons for radicalisation, hatred of the West, particularly America because of its policy towards Muslims, why Al Qaida’s target has been the US primarily and not Israel, the dichotomy within the organisation’s core command as far as targeting of civilians and other Muslim governments, among many others.

The flow of the narrative is not marred in the translation, neither are the other characters introduced to us by Al Bahri lacking in depth.

The success of any publication lies in the impact it has on the reader. It is not that “Guarding Bin Laden” is without faults, these are few and far between, not significant enough to deter even a second or third read.

 

Feng Shui Expert Derek Walters: Never Sleep with Your Feet to the Door

Never sleep with your feet to the door: Susan de Muth in bed with Derek Walters

SUSAN DE MUTH

Wednesday, 9 February 1994
On the eve of the Chinese New Year, Derek Walters, one of the West’s leading Chinese astrologers and an expert in Feng Shui, describes his nocturnal habits. Mr Walters lives in Manchester with Leo, a ginger tom.

I was born in 1936, which makes me a Rat. Rats in Chinese astrology are characterised by their high level of nocturnal activity. I tend to come alive around midnight, which is when I do my most inspired work, either writing or devising astrological computer programs.

My computer is in front of a large window and I can see the stars as I work. I have an ancient Chinese astronomical map which I refer to and it’s marvellous to see the same things in the sky that were recorded 2,000 years ago. As I look up into the night sky I am often struck by the awesome thought that there is nothing much between me and the edge of the universe.

Chinese astronomy identifies different groupings from those we are familiar with: Orion, for example, is seen as two distinct constellations. And in astrological terms, every star in the universe has significance. The Pole Star is the emperor, and the stars around it are his court. The smallest, furthest, dimmest stars represent people like you and me.

I usually have a break from work at about 1am and take Leo for a walk. People don’t realise that cats have a lot of affection and want to relate to you: they love going for walks just like dogs. Generally, lo and behold, at least half a dozen other cats will join the procession, taking their own ways – under cars and through bushes. I talk to them as we go, and they sometimes reply. What do they say? ‘Miaow,’ of course.

Leo responds to music. Every night before I start work I play the piano, which I experience as a kind of meditation. The cat sits on top of the telephone, closes his eyes, and listens to a Bach fugue with great pleasure.

I love cats. Before I had Leo I had cat substitutes, and these now inhabit my bedroom. I’ve got about 50 ornamental cats, as well as two beautiful Chinese silk embroideries of cats on the wall. On my bed is an old tartan travelling rug which I took with me on my many voyages during the Fifties and Sixties.

My most enduring nocturnal memories are from those times. I went all over the Balkans and took the Orient Express to Moscow. There is nothing quite like standing on a dark platform in Transylvania waiting for a steam train, or pulling into Istanbul at dawn. I always travelled at night and went sightseeing in the daytime.

I don’t particularly remember sleeping during those journeys. I’d always find my fellow passengers, often from five or six different countries, too interesting. However, I recall that I once made myself a little bed and slept up a tree on an island off the coast of what was then Yugoslavia. I went to a lot of places that aren’t on the map any more.

Those journeys I made in my twenties are still the most constant theme of my dreams, even though I have travelled to many more exotic and faraway places since then. I don’t feel any regret for those times. They’re just memories. It’s like looking at old photographs. I find it interesting to fall asleep wondering where I’ll go back to this time.

I like to get my sleep these days – put my batteries on charge for a good eight hours. I’ve found the best way to go off is to do the Times crossword in bed. I have carefully planned my bedroom according to Feng Shui principles.

Feng Shui is the ancient Chinese art of arranging things for maximum peace, harmony and good fortune. I would never sleep under beams, for example – they give you pains where they cross your body. Nor would I place my bed with the feet pointing to the door – that makes you liable to nightmares and ill health: the Chinese take out their dead feet first]

The direction your bedroom faces is very important. As a child, an eastern prospect will give you the energy of sunrise; as an old person, facing west will give you the tranquillity of the setting sun. My bedroom faces north, which is perfect for a middle-aged Rat still set on following his life direction.

Derek Walters will be offering personal astrological consultations for the Year of the Dog from 10-13 February at Neal Street East, 5 Neal Street, London WC2. Details: 071-240 0135.

(Photograph omitted)

Fay Presto Magician: the Drug I’m Hooked on is Applause

Susan de Muth in bed with Fay Presto: From glitzy parties back to my little flat, just like magic

Wednesday, 10 August 1994
Fay Presto is a magician. She lives in London.

NIGHT is the best time for magic. We all leave our problems behind and I can transport people to another place where that playing card I just tore up really has stuck itself back together again. It’s much harder to make that illusion hold in the cold light of day when the hideousness of life returns.

Apart from the innate human propensity to expect magic things to happen at night, the right kind of artificial light also helps a trick along. Proper lighting is essential – as it is in real life. How often have you been to the ladies’ on a big night out feeling just fine until you caught sight of yourself in the mirror, horribly illuminated in neon, and lost all your confidence?

Since I had a gender-swap operation several years ago I have fought for the right to be a real person, but nobody will let me forget my past. I’m a good magician, for God’s sake, but there’s always this curiosity, this prejudice that deprives me of opportunities – especially of gaining the social acceptability that comes with television appearances. The pain this has caused me has kept me awake in the past . . . but I’ve dealt with it now. And I no longer dream.

I work about three nights a week, mostly at private functions. I have a residency at Langan’s restaurant and do a lot of film premieres – they don’t know what to do with themselves at those glitzy parties. I peak around midnight and am on a high afterwards – I don’t drink so I go for beans on toast in a cafe to wind down. Now that I’ve got a mobile phone I can call up showbusiness friends who are also working late and arrange to meet.

Even if I’m staying in, my bedtime is still 4am. I’m very active at night: I recently completed a novel, which I started as therapy, bashing away at the word processor until I was so exhausted I’d just crash out. I never have trouble sleeping now unless the dawn chorus starts. I hate birds. I recently bought a New Age CD of waves breaking, thinking how nice it would be to drop off soothed by that sound – but it’s full of bloody seagulls]

It can be quite a culture shock coming home to my council flat after the glitzy events I go to. I used to have a portable ivory tower in the form of my old limo but it’s broken now. I also had a chauffeur, Vic, who was a motorcycle messenger with me back in the old days. Vic always rescued me when people were unkind. He works for someone else now. These days I drive myself home in my lovely Triumph Herald, which I can usually fix if it breaks down.

I’m not afraid to be out on my own at night. I walk tall and square. By the time I’m on my way home all the muggers are usually fast asleep anyway.

I was unlucky once, though – I was in the lift going up to my flat when a bloke stuck a knife in my ribs and asked for my purse. Using sleight of hand I hid my purse behind my back and emptied the contents of my handbag on the floor saying he could look for himself, I had no money. When he bent over I hit him on the head. I’ve always been courageous.

I’ve tried to make my bedroom as nice as possible – after all it is 50 per cent of my living space. I have a huge mirror, a proper silvered one that is kind, and a four-poster bed where William Stanley, my teddy bear, is waiting to cuddle me – though he usually ends up on the floor. I work abroad a lot and always take William Stanley with me to make a strange hotel room more friendly.

I never go to bed with a face on and I cleanse and moisturise every night. I don’t think it’s a bad face for 46, do you? Once in bed I run a few people through my mind. It’s a kind of prayer.

There are costumes all over the place in my bedroom and I keep my magic paraphernalia there. It does make me think about tricks when I’m going off to sleep and I suppose that would bother me if I saw it as work, but I don’t – it’s my life. The drug I’m hooked on is applause and you can’t buy a fix – you can only earn it. A spontaneous standing ovation is even better than great sex.

I’m quite used to sleeping alone. There is no love of my life – who could cope with it? I’m not interested in settling down. Mr Right would have to be a pretty special person.

(Photograph omitted)

Dogs and owners – same the world over

When I first started spending time in Hastings, I had a lovely black Labrador, Iggy, who was not exactly tough. The dogs of Hastings, however, were.

In fact – to tangentialize for a brief moment – just a couple of months ago three staffies off the leash went nuts in St Leonards and hospitalized twelve people.

Anyway, Iggy… I was walking by the playground on West Hill with her and let her off the leash for her customary tear about.  After about two minutes I heard this thigh-squeezing yelping and she returns staggering up the hill with two staffie pups attached to her throat. Seriously.

The owner, having difficulty herself making it up the hill, due to her excellent McCurves, arrived just as I managed to prise apart the second set of mini jaws from poor, trembling, Iggy’s neck.

I imagined she was going to apologize and decided not to make a fuss. This was not, however, the message this buxom youngster wished to deliver.

‘They’ve never done that before,’ she said, accusingly, snatching the two beasts up into the tender shelter of her weighty upper arms. She cast a vengeful look at Iggy: ‘Your dog must have done something,’ she shot, turning to sail back down the hill.

It’s quite amazing how owners of vicious-looking dogs are so defensive. ‘He’d never hurt a fly,’ they say fondly of some slavering beast straining at the leash with blood-red eyes, gnashing at the void.

Now, yesterday, it was sunny here in Funchal and we took a walk along the promenade where a canine obedience training session was underway. Two guys dressed up like police with black clothes and pocketed waistcoats were herding a bunch of dog owners and their best friends around inside a fenced off area. They told them to line up in a row, dogs sitting obediently by masters’ sides, facing out to sea.

We stopped to compare the relative attractiveness of each canine. One in particular caught our eyes – a lovely, medium-sized, collie type fluffy brown dog with a foxy tail. There was an assortment of about eight dogs, a little lap dog, a Labrador pup which kept getting up and pottering around, not very obediently, and…right at a the end of the line, a huge rottweiler.

The obedience task at hand was for the owner of each dog in turn to walk it on the leash, in and out of the line of other dogs. The very worthy aim of this exercise was to stop the dog doing that really irritating stopping and sniffing at every meeting with a fellow four-legger.

A nice, well-behaved white poodle went first, led by a pony-tailed teenage girl in jeggings and a little pink top. All went well until they tentatively approached the Rottie at the end. A distinct growling was heard and the Rottie’s owner, a dapper little man with a Hercule Poirot moustache, gave Rottie’s leash a yank by way of reprimand. The Rottie stayed seated, contenting itself with giving the white pooch a dirty look and the girl and her charge circled round and skipped off, relieved, on the home run.

‘Ah, dear Rottie,’ I said fondly and we resumed our walk. ‘They’re probably fine when they’re properly trained’. Suddenly a terrible fracas broke out and the air was filled with ferocious barking and yelping. We turned back to see the Rottie in mid air with the foxy tail of our favourite brown dog clamped firmly between his jaws; poor brown dog, still attached, was being whirled around like a toy.

The policeman-like trainer grabbed the Rottie and prised open its jaws, delivering the bloodstained victim back into its owner’s hands. Now he had to prove dominion over the huge powerful beast which was baring its teeth and facing him off. With some kind of super-human strength he hurled it onto its back and, placing a knee on its chest, kept it pinned down while it struggled and growled.

The Rottie eventually surrendered, and the assistant trainer brought over a muzzle which was buckled over its throbbing jaws. The leash was tightened and the beast allowed to stand up and brush himself down. He was then returned to his owner. Now the trainer suggested the brown dog and the Rottie should be brought together again, presumably thinking the Rottie, having been subdued by man, would now be more docile.

Wrong! Once again as the brown dog tentatively approached he went beserk and nearly succeeded in breaking free from his diminutive owner’s grip, gnashing wildly despite the confines of the muzzle, eyes filled with pure hatred and violence.

Now the trainer brought an electronic device on a collar which was fastened around the psychopathic beast’s neck. Again, the two dogs were asked to approach, again Rottie went nuts…but this time he got an electric shock delivered by a complementary device in the trainer’s pocket.

The procedure was repeated until the Rottie’s frenzy upon meeting the other dog was slightly diminished as he tired of repeated electric shocks; now he retreated, skulking and growling, by his owner’s side.

The class ended and Rottie and his moustachio’d owner, along with all the other dogs and humans, dispersed. We fell into conversation with Rottie’s owner; he spoke excellent English and explained how the electric shock discipline device worked… and then came the proof that dogs and owners are the same the world over.

‘He’s usually so gentle,’ he said, patting Rottie’s chunky cranium. ‘He’s so good with children and he sits so quietly in the back of the car….’. As we gaped with horror at the idea of Rottie being anywhere near a child, Poirot turned to look  accusingly at the poor brown dog, which still appeared completely traumatized by its ordeal. ‘There’s just something about that brown dog…’ he said.