The recent Conference held in Rome on “the way forward” in Afghanistan, has laid bare the basic unwillingness – or inability - of the International Community to consider a change in its stance on the complex process of “transition”. The only positive aspect of the conference was the belated, and rather passive, presence of Iran.
Of much greater import is the news that, in the forthcoming Lisbon summit, the “withdrawal date” may be moved forward another four years, thus scrapping the growingly unrealistic target date of July 2011, and, at the same time, creating internal political problems to many of the participating countries, not excluding the United States.
By now the statements coming from ISAF spokespersons on the alleged military progress seem totally otiose, and can easily be disregarded. Further thought should be given to the civilian issues which have been either overlooked or wrongly approached.
Many commentators on Afghanistan have recently concentrated their attention on the tribalism and nepotism which appear to dominate Karzai’s presidential style. Few, however, have bothered to point out that tribalism and nepotism, in some social and cultural contexts, can actually become extremely strong foundations on which to construct a credible and successful government. This has often been the way in Afghanistan, as well as in other similar societies, whenever a free choice of governance was available. Most likely only a system based on these principles could possibly ensure relative peace in Afghanistan after the departure of foreign troops.
Those who were interested in Afghanistan’s political structure in the peaceful and relatively prosperous years of the Zahir Shah Monarchy (1932 – 1973) will recall that while, to all appearances, Afghanistan was a unified Kingdom ruled by a benevolent, unassuming and rather Western oriented Monarch, in reality the King owed his power exclusively to the combined goodwill of the Pashto tribes (he was a Mohammedzai), and was treated with respect, but certainly not with undue reverence, by the non-Pashto Provinces, in the North and in the West.
Any attempt to plaster over this centuries old reality with a flimsy veneer of Western political philosophy, however well-intentioned, is doomed to failure. The very words – “tribalism” and “nepotism” – have negative connotations for us, but we ought to realise that these are fundamental social truths which, in past centuries, were driving forces even behind the construction of modern Europe, kept in check mainly by strong unifying forces such as the Empire, the Papacy and the rising Monarchies and Baronies eventually to become today’s Nation States. These basic factors in human social development actually still have an important role in some European areas.
This fundamental character of Afghan society has to be understood and respected in order to avoid errors of the past, even those committed during the Monarchy and in the following years which can be summarised as a futile attempt to accelerate history by imposing alien social and political models unsuited to the fabric of Afghan society.
The recent news of “secret” talks between the insurgency and the Karzai Government, with the seeming support of the NATO Command, although, as yet, rather ambiguous, could be a positive signal, indicating a way out of the Afghan labyrinth without excessive further damage to the Civil Society. There is reason to fear, however, that, even if successful, these negotiations may terminate the foreign occupation of Afghanistan but will not lead the country to a peaceful future, and will not avoid the seemingly inevitable inter-ethnic and tribal violence which will follow NATO withdrawal. There is, in fact, a substantial risk that any agreement would, in reality, be limited to the Pashto ethnicity, with only some formal concern shown for the other parts of the population, and this will have tragic effects on the fragile social structure left over from all these years of foreign occupation.
A serious attempt ought to be made, instead, for a greater involvement of tribal and other traditional leaders. The somewhat discredited Karzai leadership and the Taleban insurgency should not be left alone in determining Afghanistan’s future. Perhaps a second great Jirga, this time convened in the traditional manner and not limited to leaders faithful to the Karzai line, could lay the initial groundwork for the creation of an Afghan state able to elicit the loyalty of the entire population.
If, however, present policies are going to be stubbornly pursued, the end of foreign occupation will most probably be followed by tribal and ethnic conflicts, basically a “civil war”, which will leave the country subject to even greater divisions than those left by the Soviet Union in 1989. It is absurd to believe that, in the space of a few months, a unified army and a reliable police force can be formed through patchy training programmes in a Country historically divided along ethnic and tribal lines, and which has been either in a state of virtual anarchy or under foreign domination for over three decades.
As long as the International community, responsible for Afghanistan’s future after long years of occupation, keeps talking of “transition” in irresponsibly unenlightened terms, even the most slender remaining hopes for peaceful development will prove vain.
sabato 11 dicembre 2010
IS BERLUSCONI ITALY'S "COME-BACK KID"?
Whatever his shortcomings, and, indeed, there are many, Italian Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi has succeeded in forging much of Italy’s social reality and perceptions to his own image. If, on the one hand, recent events could appear as threatening an end to his remarkable political career, there are also reasons to believe that it could be a bit early to start trotting out his political obituary.
There is no doubt that Berlusconi and his closest entourage do appear nervous, ill at ease, more irritable than usual and even beset by a sense of panic, as shown by their renewed and ever more violent attacks on hostile media, allegedly “communist inspired”, whose criticism of the Government has been defined as “anti-Italian” by the Prime Minister himself. The latest symptom of panic has been a succession of remarks, at first veiled and then increasingly overt, by Berlusconi and his Foreign Minister, on a presumed “anti-Italian conspiracy” supported by the international media. To prove the existence of this assumed “foreign conspiracy” a variety of allegations are brought into play. Reference is often made on the insistence, by the international press, to publicize “negative” stories about Italy, such as the garbage scandal in Naples or the Prime Minister’s sexual escapades. More recently, the damaging files published by Wikileaks have also been repeatedly mentioned, in an attempt to cast Wikileaks as a co-conspirator, while at the same time minimizing the import of the published material, defined, by the Prime Minister and the obedient public Television, as “gossip, lifted from the opposition newspapers”.
All this, in conjunction with an apparently growing pressure from large segments of the Italian political scene, including former allies, urging Berlusconi to resign would seem to confirm the approaching Gotterdammerung, which, as usual in Italy, is not devoid of comic-opera settings. A recent example was given by a publicly televised heated exchange of insults, in the Neapolitan dialect, between a former beauty queen, now a Cabinet Minister (dubbed by some as the “world’s most beautiful Minister”), and the Duce’s grand-daughter, Alessandra Mussolini, both part of Berlusconi’s majority. The insults were of an extremely vulgar variety and had to be translated into Italian, giving the public a welcome respite from the grey, nebulous and ever less understandable statements by other political leaders..
Berlusconi, however, has shown in the past to be an incredible political survivor, and it may be a mistake to consider his political career as being over. He could actually benefit from the state of utter confusion in which the Italian political scene finds itself, and end up as one of the two beneficiaries of the ongoing crisis (the other beneficiary being his closest political ally, the “Northern League”).
This is no ordinary political crisis. Berlusconi is dominated by two very strong ambitions: firstly to avoid appearing in Court to face a number of prosecutions which could even end up with prison sentences, and, secondly, to be elected President of the Republic and triumphantly enter the Quirinale Palace, official home of Popes, Kings and Presidents since the sixteenth century.
The date of December 14 could well indicate the future trends. On that day there will be two simultaneous votes in Parliament (something unheard of in Italian republican history): a “vote of confidence” in the Government, called by Berlusconi's allies, in the Senate, and a “vote of no confidence”, presented by a loose collection of his rivals, in the Lower House. On that same day, in one of those dramatic coincidences so dear to the Italian political sensibility, the Constitutional Court was scheduled to rule on the constitutionality of one of the many legal shields which the Berlusconi Government has enacted to protect the Prime Minister from prosecution. This last event has been postponed and will take place in January, thus giving the Prime Minister some further breathing space.
At least three possible scenarios could emerge:
By very aggressively pursuing and purchasing the votes of insecure parliamentarians, Berlusconi could well win both confidence votes and thus weather the storm and continue until 2014, when, as Prime Minister, he could have a good chance to be elected President by a joint session of the Italian Parliament. This solution may seem rather unlikely, but is certainly not impossible.
After either losing one of the confidence votes, or winning by a very thin margin, Berlusconi could decide to hand in his resignation to president Napolitano, acting on the assumption that the President will call for the dissolution of Parliament and new elections. Those very opposition political forces who are clamouring for Berlusconi's resignation fear this outcome because they feel that a coalition between Berlusconi and the xenophobic, racist “Northern League” would almost certainly win, bringing Berlusconi back into power, albeit under the Leagues' thrall.
The only way in which Berlusconi can be defeated would be through the creation of a “national unity“ caretaker transitional Government, perhaps under the leadership of a non-political figure, to last out the remaining years of the legislature (i.e. until the year 2014). This is probably the solution also favoured by president Napolitano – for there is no love lost between him and Berlusconi – but it risks being stymied by the divisions which beset the opposition political parties, who seem intent in an almost suicidal campaign destined to discourage any attempt at unity.
In politics, and even more so in Italian politics, a week is a very long time, and much can happen before December 14, including the forging of alliances among groups or parties which at this stage seem anchored to irreconcilable positions. Close attention will also have to be paid to the actions of the Catholic Church which has been interfering in Italian politics with growing forcefulness, and which could well become the deciding factor either by abandoning Berlusconi because of his “immoral” behaviour, or by endorsing him thus encouraging the “Catholic” political leaders to signify their support and save the government from a crisis which would otherwise seem inevitable.
There is no doubt that Berlusconi and his closest entourage do appear nervous, ill at ease, more irritable than usual and even beset by a sense of panic, as shown by their renewed and ever more violent attacks on hostile media, allegedly “communist inspired”, whose criticism of the Government has been defined as “anti-Italian” by the Prime Minister himself. The latest symptom of panic has been a succession of remarks, at first veiled and then increasingly overt, by Berlusconi and his Foreign Minister, on a presumed “anti-Italian conspiracy” supported by the international media. To prove the existence of this assumed “foreign conspiracy” a variety of allegations are brought into play. Reference is often made on the insistence, by the international press, to publicize “negative” stories about Italy, such as the garbage scandal in Naples or the Prime Minister’s sexual escapades. More recently, the damaging files published by Wikileaks have also been repeatedly mentioned, in an attempt to cast Wikileaks as a co-conspirator, while at the same time minimizing the import of the published material, defined, by the Prime Minister and the obedient public Television, as “gossip, lifted from the opposition newspapers”.
All this, in conjunction with an apparently growing pressure from large segments of the Italian political scene, including former allies, urging Berlusconi to resign would seem to confirm the approaching Gotterdammerung, which, as usual in Italy, is not devoid of comic-opera settings. A recent example was given by a publicly televised heated exchange of insults, in the Neapolitan dialect, between a former beauty queen, now a Cabinet Minister (dubbed by some as the “world’s most beautiful Minister”), and the Duce’s grand-daughter, Alessandra Mussolini, both part of Berlusconi’s majority. The insults were of an extremely vulgar variety and had to be translated into Italian, giving the public a welcome respite from the grey, nebulous and ever less understandable statements by other political leaders..
Berlusconi, however, has shown in the past to be an incredible political survivor, and it may be a mistake to consider his political career as being over. He could actually benefit from the state of utter confusion in which the Italian political scene finds itself, and end up as one of the two beneficiaries of the ongoing crisis (the other beneficiary being his closest political ally, the “Northern League”).
This is no ordinary political crisis. Berlusconi is dominated by two very strong ambitions: firstly to avoid appearing in Court to face a number of prosecutions which could even end up with prison sentences, and, secondly, to be elected President of the Republic and triumphantly enter the Quirinale Palace, official home of Popes, Kings and Presidents since the sixteenth century.
The date of December 14 could well indicate the future trends. On that day there will be two simultaneous votes in Parliament (something unheard of in Italian republican history): a “vote of confidence” in the Government, called by Berlusconi's allies, in the Senate, and a “vote of no confidence”, presented by a loose collection of his rivals, in the Lower House. On that same day, in one of those dramatic coincidences so dear to the Italian political sensibility, the Constitutional Court was scheduled to rule on the constitutionality of one of the many legal shields which the Berlusconi Government has enacted to protect the Prime Minister from prosecution. This last event has been postponed and will take place in January, thus giving the Prime Minister some further breathing space.
At least three possible scenarios could emerge:
By very aggressively pursuing and purchasing the votes of insecure parliamentarians, Berlusconi could well win both confidence votes and thus weather the storm and continue until 2014, when, as Prime Minister, he could have a good chance to be elected President by a joint session of the Italian Parliament. This solution may seem rather unlikely, but is certainly not impossible.
After either losing one of the confidence votes, or winning by a very thin margin, Berlusconi could decide to hand in his resignation to president Napolitano, acting on the assumption that the President will call for the dissolution of Parliament and new elections. Those very opposition political forces who are clamouring for Berlusconi's resignation fear this outcome because they feel that a coalition between Berlusconi and the xenophobic, racist “Northern League” would almost certainly win, bringing Berlusconi back into power, albeit under the Leagues' thrall.
The only way in which Berlusconi can be defeated would be through the creation of a “national unity“ caretaker transitional Government, perhaps under the leadership of a non-political figure, to last out the remaining years of the legislature (i.e. until the year 2014). This is probably the solution also favoured by president Napolitano – for there is no love lost between him and Berlusconi – but it risks being stymied by the divisions which beset the opposition political parties, who seem intent in an almost suicidal campaign destined to discourage any attempt at unity.
In politics, and even more so in Italian politics, a week is a very long time, and much can happen before December 14, including the forging of alliances among groups or parties which at this stage seem anchored to irreconcilable positions. Close attention will also have to be paid to the actions of the Catholic Church which has been interfering in Italian politics with growing forcefulness, and which could well become the deciding factor either by abandoning Berlusconi because of his “immoral” behaviour, or by endorsing him thus encouraging the “Catholic” political leaders to signify their support and save the government from a crisis which would otherwise seem inevitable.
sabato 9 ottobre 2010
AFGHANISTAN BETRAYED
(This article was published in "Open Democracy" on October 9, 2010)
The approach of winter has usually indicated a respite in the Afghan conflict. This year, however, there seems to be no pause in the continuous litany of bad news emerging from there. Pakistan, for its part, seems relatively quiet. Perhaps the tragic floods, greeted with some indifference by the outside world, have contributed in quieting down insurgent and military activity there, since both the Army and the insurgent forces have been occupied in rescue operations. The Western Alliance’s most visible contribution has been the continuation of the destruction of villages by Drone attacks, thus probably hastening the demise of this “democratic” government in favour of a military administration as well as accumulating further anti-Western resentment for the immediate future.
The tense and violent atmosphere in which the recent Afghan parliamentary elections have taken place is a prime indication of how the situation is fast deteriorating. Dishonestly triumphant proclamations would have us compare these elections – in terms of turnout and number of violent episodes - to the recent, disastrous, almost farcical presidential vote. A different image emerges if a comparison is made with the previous parliamentary elections, in the fall of 2005, which I witnessed as an international monitor and which took place, by and large, in a peaceful and even good-humoured atmosphere.
At this stage, it is difficult to express an informed evaluation of the news that “secret” negotiations are taking place between the Taleban and the Afghan Government. The very tribal structure of the latter, and the apparent absolute condition set by the Taleban that no agreement can be reached with foreign troops still in occupation seem to indicate some fragility in the proceedings.
In any historical analysis, it is not always easy to identify turning points, in which right or wrong decisions can be viewed as fundamental in determining the course of events. This is all the more arduous when the events are chronologically close and fresh in the memory of protagonists and witnesses.
Those fateful months, between 2005 and 2006, may well have constituted one of those watershed moments, in which a less obtuse mentality on the part of the Allies could possibly have prevented the road to what now seems like an inevitable disaster.
It is a well-known axiom that negotiations with insurgent, or “guerrilla” forces have to be undertaken from a position of unquestionable strength, unless, as in the case of the Soviet forces in 1989, their aim is to secure retreat. This, I believe, was the basic reasoning behind the much publicised intentions to “liberate” Kandahar, and thus be able to confront the insurgency in the wake of a resounding military success. Of course, wiser counsels having prevailed, the offensive never took place, and there has been no visible shift of the situation in NATO’s favour.
The Western forces, however, most certainly were in a position of strength in 2006, and even the sporadic suicide attacks in the name of the Taleban insurgency were usually perpetrated by Arabs or Pakistanis, showing that the movement was not all that strong on the ground. At that stage, albeit in indirect, oblique ways, overtures were being made by some of the Taleban leaders, including the Mullah Omar. Suggestions to the effect that it would be a good idea to respond to these approaches were, however, slapped down unceremoniously with the specious (and contradictory) motivations that “we don’t negotiate with terrorists” and that “the Taleban don’t want to talk”.
It was apparently believed that, with a “democratically elected” Parliament and President, the Afghans had become masters of their own fate. According to a childishly dangerous thinking, the holding of elections in occupied territories invariably constitutes a panacea and should subsequently discourage complaints on the part of the population. I really don’t know what would have happened if “free and democratic” elections had been held in Italy in 1944. Elections should come after pacification, not as an early step towards peace and normality.
It is no coincidence, therefore, that the situation began to deteriorate rapidly in the spring of 2007 when the sum of allied mistakes, miscalculations and cynical unconcern seemed to give the insurgency – no longer exclusively “Taleban” – renewed vigour, allowing it to expand and to infiltrate the population with ease.
All this paved the way for the present situation, in which it has become acceptable, indeed fashionable to assert that there is no satisfactory explanation to justify NATO’s continued presence in Afghanistan on these terms, that the war is unwinnable no matter how many “surges” can be added, and that we are on our way to the third betrayal or abandonment of the Afghan people by the West in the space of two short decades.
In 1989, after ten years of occupation, the Soviet Union bought its way out of Afghanistan, leaving behind a country torn by civil war which most often involved those very “war lords”, as well as the Taleban, who had been armed and financed by the West to resist Soviet occupation. At this stage the country needed outside help and was instead abandoned to itself. The chief victim of this short-sighted policy was, of course, the charismatic figure of Ahmed Shah Massoud, who was to be assassinated on the eve of the September 11 attacks. Massoud had tried to alert Western public opinion, even addressing the European Parliament, but meeting polite indifference. He has been quoted as lamenting the fact that Europeans and Americans did not realise that his fight against the Taleban was also in our interest.
The Afghan people were again betrayed and abandoned right after the 2001 invasion. At first it was really believed that NATO’s invasion of Afghanistan would serve many purposes: the eradication of Al Qaeda, the defeat of the Taleban, and the encouragement of reform. None of this was true, and the Afghan invasion served principally as a dress rehearsal for the invasion of Iraq, which had far greater weight on the western agendas.
The third betrayal is imminent, and will occur when, after having destroyed much of what was left of the country’s fragile social structure , we shall again leave the Afghanistan to itself, expressing totally insincere and unrealistic confidence in its “democratic” institutions..
It is tragically easy to foresee the consequences.
The approach of winter has usually indicated a respite in the Afghan conflict. This year, however, there seems to be no pause in the continuous litany of bad news emerging from there. Pakistan, for its part, seems relatively quiet. Perhaps the tragic floods, greeted with some indifference by the outside world, have contributed in quieting down insurgent and military activity there, since both the Army and the insurgent forces have been occupied in rescue operations. The Western Alliance’s most visible contribution has been the continuation of the destruction of villages by Drone attacks, thus probably hastening the demise of this “democratic” government in favour of a military administration as well as accumulating further anti-Western resentment for the immediate future.
The tense and violent atmosphere in which the recent Afghan parliamentary elections have taken place is a prime indication of how the situation is fast deteriorating. Dishonestly triumphant proclamations would have us compare these elections – in terms of turnout and number of violent episodes - to the recent, disastrous, almost farcical presidential vote. A different image emerges if a comparison is made with the previous parliamentary elections, in the fall of 2005, which I witnessed as an international monitor and which took place, by and large, in a peaceful and even good-humoured atmosphere.
At this stage, it is difficult to express an informed evaluation of the news that “secret” negotiations are taking place between the Taleban and the Afghan Government. The very tribal structure of the latter, and the apparent absolute condition set by the Taleban that no agreement can be reached with foreign troops still in occupation seem to indicate some fragility in the proceedings.
In any historical analysis, it is not always easy to identify turning points, in which right or wrong decisions can be viewed as fundamental in determining the course of events. This is all the more arduous when the events are chronologically close and fresh in the memory of protagonists and witnesses.
Those fateful months, between 2005 and 2006, may well have constituted one of those watershed moments, in which a less obtuse mentality on the part of the Allies could possibly have prevented the road to what now seems like an inevitable disaster.
It is a well-known axiom that negotiations with insurgent, or “guerrilla” forces have to be undertaken from a position of unquestionable strength, unless, as in the case of the Soviet forces in 1989, their aim is to secure retreat. This, I believe, was the basic reasoning behind the much publicised intentions to “liberate” Kandahar, and thus be able to confront the insurgency in the wake of a resounding military success. Of course, wiser counsels having prevailed, the offensive never took place, and there has been no visible shift of the situation in NATO’s favour.
The Western forces, however, most certainly were in a position of strength in 2006, and even the sporadic suicide attacks in the name of the Taleban insurgency were usually perpetrated by Arabs or Pakistanis, showing that the movement was not all that strong on the ground. At that stage, albeit in indirect, oblique ways, overtures were being made by some of the Taleban leaders, including the Mullah Omar. Suggestions to the effect that it would be a good idea to respond to these approaches were, however, slapped down unceremoniously with the specious (and contradictory) motivations that “we don’t negotiate with terrorists” and that “the Taleban don’t want to talk”.
It was apparently believed that, with a “democratically elected” Parliament and President, the Afghans had become masters of their own fate. According to a childishly dangerous thinking, the holding of elections in occupied territories invariably constitutes a panacea and should subsequently discourage complaints on the part of the population. I really don’t know what would have happened if “free and democratic” elections had been held in Italy in 1944. Elections should come after pacification, not as an early step towards peace and normality.
It is no coincidence, therefore, that the situation began to deteriorate rapidly in the spring of 2007 when the sum of allied mistakes, miscalculations and cynical unconcern seemed to give the insurgency – no longer exclusively “Taleban” – renewed vigour, allowing it to expand and to infiltrate the population with ease.
All this paved the way for the present situation, in which it has become acceptable, indeed fashionable to assert that there is no satisfactory explanation to justify NATO’s continued presence in Afghanistan on these terms, that the war is unwinnable no matter how many “surges” can be added, and that we are on our way to the third betrayal or abandonment of the Afghan people by the West in the space of two short decades.
In 1989, after ten years of occupation, the Soviet Union bought its way out of Afghanistan, leaving behind a country torn by civil war which most often involved those very “war lords”, as well as the Taleban, who had been armed and financed by the West to resist Soviet occupation. At this stage the country needed outside help and was instead abandoned to itself. The chief victim of this short-sighted policy was, of course, the charismatic figure of Ahmed Shah Massoud, who was to be assassinated on the eve of the September 11 attacks. Massoud had tried to alert Western public opinion, even addressing the European Parliament, but meeting polite indifference. He has been quoted as lamenting the fact that Europeans and Americans did not realise that his fight against the Taleban was also in our interest.
The Afghan people were again betrayed and abandoned right after the 2001 invasion. At first it was really believed that NATO’s invasion of Afghanistan would serve many purposes: the eradication of Al Qaeda, the defeat of the Taleban, and the encouragement of reform. None of this was true, and the Afghan invasion served principally as a dress rehearsal for the invasion of Iraq, which had far greater weight on the western agendas.
The third betrayal is imminent, and will occur when, after having destroyed much of what was left of the country’s fragile social structure , we shall again leave the Afghanistan to itself, expressing totally insincere and unrealistic confidence in its “democratic” institutions..
It is tragically easy to foresee the consequences.
sabato 4 settembre 2010
An Italian "Gotterdammerung"
(This article was published by "Open Democracy" on September 2, 2010)
Has Berlusconi reached the end of the road?
Italians, as the Romans before them, have never really taken their Gods seriously. Even the Greek deities, with all their psychological complexities, were rather trivialized when they entered the Roman Olympus, losing most of their awe-inspiring qualities and becoming, rather, paternal (or maternal) figures – with occasional, conveniently timed, miraculous manifestations - to whom one could entrust one’s health, prosperity or loved ones. Indeed, their qualities greatly resembled those attributed to present day Saints in Italy, keeping in mind in the particularly pagan-oriented Catholicism of most Italians.
A very similar treatment is reserved for political leaders. Even the Pope, as temporal leader for about fifteen centuries, was chased out of Rome amid popular jubilation more than once, only to be welcomed back just as jubilantly. The last time this happened was rather recently, in 1849, at the proclamation of the glorious but short-lived Roman Republic.
This perhaps explains the success of populist, paternalistic leaders – the last one, Bettino Craxi, ending his days a fugitive from justice in Tunisia, after a long stint as Prime Minister. The same public which had welcomed him tumultuously, finally threw coins at him in the street: a gesture of ultimate contempt for a theatre loving people like the Italians.
This also explains the complexities and paradoxes of Italian political life. Voter turnout in Italy is one of the world’s highest, but the concept of “anti-politica” repeatedly appears. This appeal to the jaded palate of Italian voters was most recently exploited by the popular Genoese comedian, Beppe Grillo who, in the name of “anti-politica”, has had some success at the polls.
Recent events, as reported also in a recent article in Open Democracy, seemed to indicate a growing rift in Mr. Berlusconi’s ruling coalition, mainly at the hands of the Lower House president, Gianfranco Fini. There was much talk of a Government crisis and the need to call early elections, though at the moment all this seems to have been overcome. But has it? I believe that an attempt could be made to analyze the situation and to try to fathom what is really going on , what the motivations of the main actors are and what the short term outcome of the crisis could be.
It has to be understood, firstly, that in Italy success at the polls does not imply stability or, for that matter, efficiency in Government, no matter how large a majority has been achieved.
In no context other than Italy, would a Government in the hands of a popular, rather charismatic figure, with undeniable authoritarian ambitions and a virtual monopoly on sources of information, who can count on what we call a “Bulgarian majority” in Parliament appear unable to govern and face the possible imminent disintegration of a structure which seemed indestructible only two years ago.
It would be mistaken to attribute this to the work of the political opposition, which is divided and ineffectual, still involved in ideological disputes reminiscent of the Cold War years and which fears a government crisis even more than Berlusconi. In fact, if the Prime Minister could call a snap election, he would most probably beat them with one hand tied behind his back (As Fiorello La Guardia, legendary Mayor of New York, once said “I could run on a laundry ticket and beat these political bums any time”).
It would seem, therefore, that, actually, Berlusconi himself would not be all that opposed to an early election, also keeping in mind his firm hold – a virtual monopoly – on almost all the Television channels, but he is not constitutionally allowed to call for one, unless his Government is defeated in a vote of Confidence. Even then, however, the President of the Republic, Napolitano, would have to ask the political parties to attempt the formation of a “transitional” Government, which would be a “de facto” defeat for the Prime Minister..
The situation would appear confused unless one keeps in mind that Italian politics are conducted along lines reminiscent of the “Commedia dell’Arte”, in which set characters, or “masks” (e.g. Arlecchino, Pulcinella etc., the cultural forebears of “Punch and Judy”) play preordained roles which leave little or no room for diversion. In this framework, while trying to understand whether Berlusconi has really reached the end of the road, one has to keep an eye on all the other characters, firstly, of course, the sycophants in his own entourage, each of whom is ready to stab him in the back, but also among the mainstream opposition and coalition figures.
The larger – more or less centrist – opposition groups are loud in their condemnation of the “regime”, but when it comes to action they fall short of causing a Government crisis, because, they say, of the “difficult” economic situation. In reality, they fear an electoral confrontation because they feel that in spite of Berlusconi’s obvious weakness, he could still come out on top, and, even if at the head of a weak Government could rule the country for years to come..
Who would benefit, then, from a Government crisis? Certainly, among the Governing coalition, the “Northern League”. Counting on its simplistic xenophobic, racist, anti-Muslim and, above all, “federalist” message this incredibly successful political party would, as in all past occasions, show large gains and thus increase its grip on the apparently powerful but in reality hapless Prime Minister. Among the outsiders, a maverick personality such as Beppe Grillo could benefit, as well as the pugnacious former Public Prosecutor, Antonio Di Pietro whose actions, some twenty years back, triggered the “Clean Hands” movement and brought about the end of the so-called “First Republic”.
Within the coalition Berlusconi’s one time principal ally, Gianfranco Fini, currently in a position roughly equivalent to that of “Speaker of the House”, and therefore carrying considerable institutional weight, has been the prime promoter of the crisis. He has to tread carefully, however, because elections called too early would damage his position perhaps irrevocably and he would be added to the vast number of political have-beens fallen in the wake of Berlusconi’s irrepressible political personality.
What about Berlusconi himself? In any other country he would be politically finished, beleaguered as he is by corruption charges and episodes of sexual misconduct, with many of his closest allies facing trial or having actually been handed prison sentences.
It has to be added that, Italy being the unique political puzzle that it is, many are trying to read the signs and attempt to understand the attitude of the Roman Catholic Church, which, in reality, has been issuing mixed signals, many of them, however, critical of Berlusconi.
The unspoken question, however is “after Berlusconi, who?”
The feeling is that Berlusconi could survive, and that, quite possibly, nothing will happen simply because none of the protagonists will want to cast the first stone. There is also an additional fact which is seldom mentioned: to claim a retirement pension – a not indifferent sum of money for life – parliamentarians have to serve for thirty consecutive months, and some time must still elapse for them to reach that goal..
If Berlusconi is finally brought down, he will not go quietly, but in all his glory, leaving behind a fondly nostalgic memory of high living, low politics and a bevy of stunning ex-starlets, some in Cabinet positions. As they say in Show Business, a difficult act to follow.
In Italy, even the Twilight of the Gods has a Comic Opera setting.
Has Berlusconi reached the end of the road?
Italians, as the Romans before them, have never really taken their Gods seriously. Even the Greek deities, with all their psychological complexities, were rather trivialized when they entered the Roman Olympus, losing most of their awe-inspiring qualities and becoming, rather, paternal (or maternal) figures – with occasional, conveniently timed, miraculous manifestations - to whom one could entrust one’s health, prosperity or loved ones. Indeed, their qualities greatly resembled those attributed to present day Saints in Italy, keeping in mind in the particularly pagan-oriented Catholicism of most Italians.
A very similar treatment is reserved for political leaders. Even the Pope, as temporal leader for about fifteen centuries, was chased out of Rome amid popular jubilation more than once, only to be welcomed back just as jubilantly. The last time this happened was rather recently, in 1849, at the proclamation of the glorious but short-lived Roman Republic.
This perhaps explains the success of populist, paternalistic leaders – the last one, Bettino Craxi, ending his days a fugitive from justice in Tunisia, after a long stint as Prime Minister. The same public which had welcomed him tumultuously, finally threw coins at him in the street: a gesture of ultimate contempt for a theatre loving people like the Italians.
This also explains the complexities and paradoxes of Italian political life. Voter turnout in Italy is one of the world’s highest, but the concept of “anti-politica” repeatedly appears. This appeal to the jaded palate of Italian voters was most recently exploited by the popular Genoese comedian, Beppe Grillo who, in the name of “anti-politica”, has had some success at the polls.
Recent events, as reported also in a recent article in Open Democracy, seemed to indicate a growing rift in Mr. Berlusconi’s ruling coalition, mainly at the hands of the Lower House president, Gianfranco Fini. There was much talk of a Government crisis and the need to call early elections, though at the moment all this seems to have been overcome. But has it? I believe that an attempt could be made to analyze the situation and to try to fathom what is really going on , what the motivations of the main actors are and what the short term outcome of the crisis could be.
It has to be understood, firstly, that in Italy success at the polls does not imply stability or, for that matter, efficiency in Government, no matter how large a majority has been achieved.
In no context other than Italy, would a Government in the hands of a popular, rather charismatic figure, with undeniable authoritarian ambitions and a virtual monopoly on sources of information, who can count on what we call a “Bulgarian majority” in Parliament appear unable to govern and face the possible imminent disintegration of a structure which seemed indestructible only two years ago.
It would be mistaken to attribute this to the work of the political opposition, which is divided and ineffectual, still involved in ideological disputes reminiscent of the Cold War years and which fears a government crisis even more than Berlusconi. In fact, if the Prime Minister could call a snap election, he would most probably beat them with one hand tied behind his back (As Fiorello La Guardia, legendary Mayor of New York, once said “I could run on a laundry ticket and beat these political bums any time”).
It would seem, therefore, that, actually, Berlusconi himself would not be all that opposed to an early election, also keeping in mind his firm hold – a virtual monopoly – on almost all the Television channels, but he is not constitutionally allowed to call for one, unless his Government is defeated in a vote of Confidence. Even then, however, the President of the Republic, Napolitano, would have to ask the political parties to attempt the formation of a “transitional” Government, which would be a “de facto” defeat for the Prime Minister..
The situation would appear confused unless one keeps in mind that Italian politics are conducted along lines reminiscent of the “Commedia dell’Arte”, in which set characters, or “masks” (e.g. Arlecchino, Pulcinella etc., the cultural forebears of “Punch and Judy”) play preordained roles which leave little or no room for diversion. In this framework, while trying to understand whether Berlusconi has really reached the end of the road, one has to keep an eye on all the other characters, firstly, of course, the sycophants in his own entourage, each of whom is ready to stab him in the back, but also among the mainstream opposition and coalition figures.
The larger – more or less centrist – opposition groups are loud in their condemnation of the “regime”, but when it comes to action they fall short of causing a Government crisis, because, they say, of the “difficult” economic situation. In reality, they fear an electoral confrontation because they feel that in spite of Berlusconi’s obvious weakness, he could still come out on top, and, even if at the head of a weak Government could rule the country for years to come..
Who would benefit, then, from a Government crisis? Certainly, among the Governing coalition, the “Northern League”. Counting on its simplistic xenophobic, racist, anti-Muslim and, above all, “federalist” message this incredibly successful political party would, as in all past occasions, show large gains and thus increase its grip on the apparently powerful but in reality hapless Prime Minister. Among the outsiders, a maverick personality such as Beppe Grillo could benefit, as well as the pugnacious former Public Prosecutor, Antonio Di Pietro whose actions, some twenty years back, triggered the “Clean Hands” movement and brought about the end of the so-called “First Republic”.
Within the coalition Berlusconi’s one time principal ally, Gianfranco Fini, currently in a position roughly equivalent to that of “Speaker of the House”, and therefore carrying considerable institutional weight, has been the prime promoter of the crisis. He has to tread carefully, however, because elections called too early would damage his position perhaps irrevocably and he would be added to the vast number of political have-beens fallen in the wake of Berlusconi’s irrepressible political personality.
What about Berlusconi himself? In any other country he would be politically finished, beleaguered as he is by corruption charges and episodes of sexual misconduct, with many of his closest allies facing trial or having actually been handed prison sentences.
It has to be added that, Italy being the unique political puzzle that it is, many are trying to read the signs and attempt to understand the attitude of the Roman Catholic Church, which, in reality, has been issuing mixed signals, many of them, however, critical of Berlusconi.
The unspoken question, however is “after Berlusconi, who?”
The feeling is that Berlusconi could survive, and that, quite possibly, nothing will happen simply because none of the protagonists will want to cast the first stone. There is also an additional fact which is seldom mentioned: to claim a retirement pension – a not indifferent sum of money for life – parliamentarians have to serve for thirty consecutive months, and some time must still elapse for them to reach that goal..
If Berlusconi is finally brought down, he will not go quietly, but in all his glory, leaving behind a fondly nostalgic memory of high living, low politics and a bevy of stunning ex-starlets, some in Cabinet positions. As they say in Show Business, a difficult act to follow.
In Italy, even the Twilight of the Gods has a Comic Opera setting.
martedì 31 agosto 2010
The Kabul Conference: a formula for failure.
(Article published by “Open Democracy” on August 31, 2010)
More than a month has gone by since the much heralded Kabul Conference on “The Future of Afghanistan”, which was held on July 20, in the course of one of the deadliest months in this long Afghan venture.
Already in the weeks preceding the Conference, the signals coming from Kabul had appeared contradictory and indicative of a state of disarray among the recognised decision-makers, in Afghanistan, in Brussels and in the principal interested capitals. For its part, the International Conference did little or nothing to clarify the situation.
Taking into account both the potential importance of the event, as well as the advance publicity it received, it seemed reasonable to assume that the Conference could become a defining moment in the tormented history of Afghanistan’s present conflict. These expectations were doomed to disappointment and, if anything, the entire situation appears to be unravelling at an alarming rate.
There was a time when experts were fond of warning us of the fundamental differences between Iraq and Afghanistan. This basic truth appears to have been forgotten, and no lessons at all have been learned either from Iraq or from Afghanistan itself.
There is a need to examine these differences further: if the “surge” worked in Iraq – and even that is debatable - there are good reasons to believe that a similar numerical increase of troops will not work at all in Afghanistan, and if the training of military and security forces, as well as the civil service, proceeds, as we are repeatedly told, with some success in Iraq, the same process, applied to Afghanistan, will not reach even remotely acceptable levels by 2014 or further in the future.
Setting aside the issues of the legality or the wisdom of the invasion of Iraq, or whether the outcome can be deemed a “success”, it has to be remembered that, at least at the onset, the operation was very much more like like a conventional war, compared to the Afghan mission that had preceded it. A regular army was rather easily defeated, and the country totally and readily invaded. The “enemy” then, of course, as many had predicted, was substituted by an identifiable set of deadly, ruthless insurgent forces which, however, ended up being isolated, attacked and at least temporarily worn down.
A very different situation presented itself in Afghanistan, where the attack was aimed at a specific target (the Al Qaeda headquarters and training camp), but never encountered the opposition of a regular army. The insurgents, as traditional there, melted away and took refuge in surroundings which worked as a perfect camouflage, while their leadership – such as it was – took refuge in a neighbouring country.
The hopelessness of a “surge” could be further confirmed by a brief reminder of the failure of the Soviet invasion, where a massive regular army, not a coalition of heterogeneous forces each with its own political agenda and rules of engagement, was unable to overcome the local resistance, in spite of a lengthy, costly and much more ruthless campaign.
It is true that the resistance, then, was aided and financed by outside help (United States, Pakistan and Saudi Arabia), but the same, quite evidently, holds true now, and this was quite evident even before the recent Wikileaks revelations.
Similar considerations must be made regarding the formation of a workable civil service: Iraq, when invaded, did have a Government and a Government structure – some say even rather efficient. Afghanistan, after decades of conflict – starting with the Soviet invasion of December 1979 - was already what could be termed a “failed State”, and the cream of its middle class, traditionally the backbone of a civil service, had either been killed or dispersed, or, if luckier, had fled to more hospitable foreign countries.
The formation of military and security forces presents even greater obstacles, most of which are seldom mentioned in dispatches and reports issuing from Afghanistan. Two of the main obstacles are, on the one hand, the massive percentage of illiteracy among the personnel which, in the future, should be upholding the law, and, on the other hand, the necessity to respect ethnic and tribal differences which could create considerable problems in the formation of a professional military force. It was particularly disturbing to hear, from General Petraeus himself, the idea that the problem could be circumvented by training and arming local militias. This, of course, was the policy which did contribute to the defeat of the Soviet invaders, but also brought the country into a savage civil war, which could easily be repeated.
Not only is there no obvious, short-term solution to the Afghan problem in sight, but, and this is far worse, there is no clear definition of what would be meant by a “solution”, and what the real war aims are at this moment, except for survival and the protection of the by now fully fortified and garrisoned city of Kabul.
The real pity is that, away from the triumphalism of our military and political rhetoric, some real progress is being made in civilian sectors, thanks to many Afghan and foreign NGOs, and, of course the traditional International and National Organisations. The tragic events of the past days illustrate the dangers involved, which will increase as the occupation continues, in a country almost totally outside the control of its government or of the invaders..
In this context, defining a target date for an ill-defined “handover” is basically unrealistic and, perhaps, not a little dishonest, smacking, as it does, of prefabricating an alibi and, above all, a cynical betrayal of expectations we ourselves have contributed in forming within Afghanistan’s civil society.
More than a month has gone by since the much heralded Kabul Conference on “The Future of Afghanistan”, which was held on July 20, in the course of one of the deadliest months in this long Afghan venture.
Already in the weeks preceding the Conference, the signals coming from Kabul had appeared contradictory and indicative of a state of disarray among the recognised decision-makers, in Afghanistan, in Brussels and in the principal interested capitals. For its part, the International Conference did little or nothing to clarify the situation.
Taking into account both the potential importance of the event, as well as the advance publicity it received, it seemed reasonable to assume that the Conference could become a defining moment in the tormented history of Afghanistan’s present conflict. These expectations were doomed to disappointment and, if anything, the entire situation appears to be unravelling at an alarming rate.
There was a time when experts were fond of warning us of the fundamental differences between Iraq and Afghanistan. This basic truth appears to have been forgotten, and no lessons at all have been learned either from Iraq or from Afghanistan itself.
There is a need to examine these differences further: if the “surge” worked in Iraq – and even that is debatable - there are good reasons to believe that a similar numerical increase of troops will not work at all in Afghanistan, and if the training of military and security forces, as well as the civil service, proceeds, as we are repeatedly told, with some success in Iraq, the same process, applied to Afghanistan, will not reach even remotely acceptable levels by 2014 or further in the future.
Setting aside the issues of the legality or the wisdom of the invasion of Iraq, or whether the outcome can be deemed a “success”, it has to be remembered that, at least at the onset, the operation was very much more like like a conventional war, compared to the Afghan mission that had preceded it. A regular army was rather easily defeated, and the country totally and readily invaded. The “enemy” then, of course, as many had predicted, was substituted by an identifiable set of deadly, ruthless insurgent forces which, however, ended up being isolated, attacked and at least temporarily worn down.
A very different situation presented itself in Afghanistan, where the attack was aimed at a specific target (the Al Qaeda headquarters and training camp), but never encountered the opposition of a regular army. The insurgents, as traditional there, melted away and took refuge in surroundings which worked as a perfect camouflage, while their leadership – such as it was – took refuge in a neighbouring country.
The hopelessness of a “surge” could be further confirmed by a brief reminder of the failure of the Soviet invasion, where a massive regular army, not a coalition of heterogeneous forces each with its own political agenda and rules of engagement, was unable to overcome the local resistance, in spite of a lengthy, costly and much more ruthless campaign.
It is true that the resistance, then, was aided and financed by outside help (United States, Pakistan and Saudi Arabia), but the same, quite evidently, holds true now, and this was quite evident even before the recent Wikileaks revelations.
Similar considerations must be made regarding the formation of a workable civil service: Iraq, when invaded, did have a Government and a Government structure – some say even rather efficient. Afghanistan, after decades of conflict – starting with the Soviet invasion of December 1979 - was already what could be termed a “failed State”, and the cream of its middle class, traditionally the backbone of a civil service, had either been killed or dispersed, or, if luckier, had fled to more hospitable foreign countries.
The formation of military and security forces presents even greater obstacles, most of which are seldom mentioned in dispatches and reports issuing from Afghanistan. Two of the main obstacles are, on the one hand, the massive percentage of illiteracy among the personnel which, in the future, should be upholding the law, and, on the other hand, the necessity to respect ethnic and tribal differences which could create considerable problems in the formation of a professional military force. It was particularly disturbing to hear, from General Petraeus himself, the idea that the problem could be circumvented by training and arming local militias. This, of course, was the policy which did contribute to the defeat of the Soviet invaders, but also brought the country into a savage civil war, which could easily be repeated.
Not only is there no obvious, short-term solution to the Afghan problem in sight, but, and this is far worse, there is no clear definition of what would be meant by a “solution”, and what the real war aims are at this moment, except for survival and the protection of the by now fully fortified and garrisoned city of Kabul.
The real pity is that, away from the triumphalism of our military and political rhetoric, some real progress is being made in civilian sectors, thanks to many Afghan and foreign NGOs, and, of course the traditional International and National Organisations. The tragic events of the past days illustrate the dangers involved, which will increase as the occupation continues, in a country almost totally outside the control of its government or of the invaders..
In this context, defining a target date for an ill-defined “handover” is basically unrealistic and, perhaps, not a little dishonest, smacking, as it does, of prefabricating an alibi and, above all, a cynical betrayal of expectations we ourselves have contributed in forming within Afghanistan’s civil society.
lunedì 30 agosto 2010
The Clash of Civilizations revisited
Rome, Italy, August 24, 2010
(Article published by "Open Democracy" - August 24 2010)
A decade and a half ago Samuel P. Huntington’s “The Clash of Civilizations” made a considerable impact on Western public opinion, but was soon relegated to an all-purpose catch-phrase, with the result that the message itself became confused and, to a certain extent, discredited. At a grass-roots level, however, the concept has taken on a rather disturbing aspect in the form of growing, seemingly irreversible Islamophobia.
The impact of Huntington’s book appeared to reside more in the title than in the content, and the term itself was more often than not trivialized and misused by those who had not read the original work.
Many famed pundits and intellectuals, perhaps in the name of “political correctness”, took to attacking the concept and comparing it unfavourably to the much more optimistic future promised by Fukuyama (“The End of History”): some – and I trust that the irony of this will not be lost – indicated the “friendship” between the United States and Saudi Arabia as a sure sign that the Clash of Civilizations would not occur.
The events of September 11th 2001 radically changed the general perspective, with the “War on Terror” monopolizing the attention, while the “Clash of Civilizations” was seldom brought up if not in a bellicose, truculent tone very far indeed from the letter and the spirit of the original text.
I had a taste of this early in 2002, talking to a Northern European Diplomat from whom I heard, for the first time, that we – i.e. “The West” – should not only recognize but actually welcome the existence of the “Clash of Civilizations” (he actually used the term) and prepare for a war of annihilation against Islam, in which, he assured me, “hundreds of millions” of Hindus and Buddhists would be on our side and help defeat the enemy.
At the time, I dismissed these ideas as merely the delirious rant from a slightly tipsy older colleague, and thus much too far-fetched to be taken seriously.
Since then, however, events both in Europe and in the United States have been indicating the existence of an ingrained and deepening hostility to Islam. Some episodes should have sounded a warning but they seemed the work of small, isolated, extremist minorities, and irreconcilable with the spirit of tolerance which was thought to reign in Western democracies.
Such episodes and events, however, have recently shown an alarming cumulative effect and Islamophobia is gaining ground, more often than not abetted by those very Political institutions which should normally guard against such potentially dangerous developments.
A perplexing dichotomy seems to have emerged. On the one hand, in most countries, the political and cultural leadership seem intent to show that current military struggles, though they oppose the Western Powers to Islamic organizations, are in no way directed against Islam. Concurrently, however, and with growing vigour and ever shriller language, in the same countries grass roots movements are growing which portray Islam as a philosophy of violence and a traditional and dangerous enemy of Western civilization.
At times, this wave of hostility has caught political leaders off guard, as happened recently in Switzerland when a referendum banned the construction of minarets. Often, however, more populist political leaders seem rather inclined to seize upon this prime example of generalised fear and to increase tensions through statements and actions which many consider irresponsible.
Geert Wilders, in the Netherlands is the first example which springs to mind. His popular success is all the more surprising in that it takes place in a Country generally known for its tolerance of foreign ideals and religions. He is also spreading the message on an international level.
In Italy, in much of the “Northern League’s” territory, one of the political slogans is “White and Christian”. Requests by Muslim communities (there are over a million Muslims in Italy) for Mosques are met with refusal, sometimes expressed with civility, most often with violent hostility and sarcasm (“All you people need to pray is a mat!”). Times have really changed since the Rome Mosque – the largest in Europe – was inaugurated by the Foreign Minister, Susanna Agnelli.
Even in the United States, where the concept of religious freedom has always constituted one of the mainstays, the polemic around the Ground Zero Mosque has brought to light widespread hostility, throughout the country, to the opening of new Mosques. President Barak Obama is again being “accused” of being a Muslim, although being a Muslim is not a crime, and a leader’s religious beliefs should not have that great an impact in a democratic context.
Huntington depicted a situation which, in his view, had to be taken into consideration for a valid analysis of international political developments. Perhaps the case was overstated, for even the Iranian president Khatami was on record stating that he did not believe in the inevitability of such a clash. At present, it is disturbing to note that the concept is becoming a battle-cry, used to inflame western opinion by giving an historical and philosophical justification to the budding and growing Islamophobia visible in the U.S. and in so many European societies. The “Clash”, from a situation to be feared and neutralised, seems to be evolving into a desirable development, as envisaged, many years ago, by my tipsy colleague.
In over a quarter of a century spent in Muslim countries, I have come across anti-American and anti-Western feelings, especially after the invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq, but, even in recent years, I have not noted a basic widespread revulsion against Christianity and its Faithful, comparable to the growing, often irrational and misinformed animosity of western public opinion against Islam.
These tendencies must therefore not be underestimated, and need to be addressed rationally and comprehensively. Otherwise they could end up fomenting a similar, mirror image, hostility to Christianity in a number of Muslim countries. The “Clash of Civilizations” could then become a reality.
.Carlo Ungaro
Via Campagnano 51
00060 Sacrofano (Italy)
+39 06 90 86098
+39 320 778 3160
carloungaro@gmail.com
(Article published by "Open Democracy" - August 24 2010)
A decade and a half ago Samuel P. Huntington’s “The Clash of Civilizations” made a considerable impact on Western public opinion, but was soon relegated to an all-purpose catch-phrase, with the result that the message itself became confused and, to a certain extent, discredited. At a grass-roots level, however, the concept has taken on a rather disturbing aspect in the form of growing, seemingly irreversible Islamophobia.
The impact of Huntington’s book appeared to reside more in the title than in the content, and the term itself was more often than not trivialized and misused by those who had not read the original work.
Many famed pundits and intellectuals, perhaps in the name of “political correctness”, took to attacking the concept and comparing it unfavourably to the much more optimistic future promised by Fukuyama (“The End of History”): some – and I trust that the irony of this will not be lost – indicated the “friendship” between the United States and Saudi Arabia as a sure sign that the Clash of Civilizations would not occur.
The events of September 11th 2001 radically changed the general perspective, with the “War on Terror” monopolizing the attention, while the “Clash of Civilizations” was seldom brought up if not in a bellicose, truculent tone very far indeed from the letter and the spirit of the original text.
I had a taste of this early in 2002, talking to a Northern European Diplomat from whom I heard, for the first time, that we – i.e. “The West” – should not only recognize but actually welcome the existence of the “Clash of Civilizations” (he actually used the term) and prepare for a war of annihilation against Islam, in which, he assured me, “hundreds of millions” of Hindus and Buddhists would be on our side and help defeat the enemy.
At the time, I dismissed these ideas as merely the delirious rant from a slightly tipsy older colleague, and thus much too far-fetched to be taken seriously.
Since then, however, events both in Europe and in the United States have been indicating the existence of an ingrained and deepening hostility to Islam. Some episodes should have sounded a warning but they seemed the work of small, isolated, extremist minorities, and irreconcilable with the spirit of tolerance which was thought to reign in Western democracies.
Such episodes and events, however, have recently shown an alarming cumulative effect and Islamophobia is gaining ground, more often than not abetted by those very Political institutions which should normally guard against such potentially dangerous developments.
A perplexing dichotomy seems to have emerged. On the one hand, in most countries, the political and cultural leadership seem intent to show that current military struggles, though they oppose the Western Powers to Islamic organizations, are in no way directed against Islam. Concurrently, however, and with growing vigour and ever shriller language, in the same countries grass roots movements are growing which portray Islam as a philosophy of violence and a traditional and dangerous enemy of Western civilization.
At times, this wave of hostility has caught political leaders off guard, as happened recently in Switzerland when a referendum banned the construction of minarets. Often, however, more populist political leaders seem rather inclined to seize upon this prime example of generalised fear and to increase tensions through statements and actions which many consider irresponsible.
Geert Wilders, in the Netherlands is the first example which springs to mind. His popular success is all the more surprising in that it takes place in a Country generally known for its tolerance of foreign ideals and religions. He is also spreading the message on an international level.
In Italy, in much of the “Northern League’s” territory, one of the political slogans is “White and Christian”. Requests by Muslim communities (there are over a million Muslims in Italy) for Mosques are met with refusal, sometimes expressed with civility, most often with violent hostility and sarcasm (“All you people need to pray is a mat!”). Times have really changed since the Rome Mosque – the largest in Europe – was inaugurated by the Foreign Minister, Susanna Agnelli.
Even in the United States, where the concept of religious freedom has always constituted one of the mainstays, the polemic around the Ground Zero Mosque has brought to light widespread hostility, throughout the country, to the opening of new Mosques. President Barak Obama is again being “accused” of being a Muslim, although being a Muslim is not a crime, and a leader’s religious beliefs should not have that great an impact in a democratic context.
Huntington depicted a situation which, in his view, had to be taken into consideration for a valid analysis of international political developments. Perhaps the case was overstated, for even the Iranian president Khatami was on record stating that he did not believe in the inevitability of such a clash. At present, it is disturbing to note that the concept is becoming a battle-cry, used to inflame western opinion by giving an historical and philosophical justification to the budding and growing Islamophobia visible in the U.S. and in so many European societies. The “Clash”, from a situation to be feared and neutralised, seems to be evolving into a desirable development, as envisaged, many years ago, by my tipsy colleague.
In over a quarter of a century spent in Muslim countries, I have come across anti-American and anti-Western feelings, especially after the invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq, but, even in recent years, I have not noted a basic widespread revulsion against Christianity and its Faithful, comparable to the growing, often irrational and misinformed animosity of western public opinion against Islam.
These tendencies must therefore not be underestimated, and need to be addressed rationally and comprehensively. Otherwise they could end up fomenting a similar, mirror image, hostility to Christianity in a number of Muslim countries. The “Clash of Civilizations” could then become a reality.
.Carlo Ungaro
Via Campagnano 51
00060 Sacrofano (Italy)
+39 06 90 86098
+39 320 778 3160
carloungaro@gmail.com
venerdì 23 luglio 2010
AFGHAN CIVIL SOCIETY MUST NOT BE ABANDONED
Rome. July 21 2010
When it comes to counting casualties, whether of military action, or of an accident or a disaster, there is a particular poignancy, almost a magical quality, in round numbers. It was therefore quite appropriate and understandable that, some weeks ago, British Prime Minister David Cameron should have commented on the three hundredth British death in the Afghan war.
This circumstance, perhaps, had more of a moral or psychological than a practical significance. It happened, however, to coincide with many other signs pointing to the need of urgent re-evaluation of the ultimate war aims in Afghanistan . It also shortly preceded signs of an evident deepening of the confusion and disarray which, for some time, have characterized both military and civilian activity there.
Much attention is rightly being focussed on the apparently inevitable military failure in Afghanistan. Dismay and frustration at the ever more confused enunciation of the war aims are also frequently expressed as explanations for the reasons of our presence and our ultimate goals there keep multiplying with amazing prolificacy, and have never really managed to be convincing. The lack of clarity emerged from the very beginning, when the justification was apparently simple and straightforward: the elimination and possible capture of the Al Qaeda hierarchy active in Afghanistan. Since then there has been only contradiction and confusion, until recently often amplified and enhanced by a prevalently unquestioning international press.
It is therefore understandable, but nonetheless unfortunate, that little time or space can be dedicated to the impact that this war – added on to two previous decades of conflict – is having on Afghan civil society, especially, but not only, on the women, who, along with significant ethnic minorities have much to fear from a return of the Taliban.
Afghanistan’s ethnic, religious, linguistic and cultural groups live, today as before, in separate and distinctive realities. These differences should be considered in any attempt to envision a viable political future for a country which will always – to its misfortune – maintain a strategic importance.
Afghanistan’s civil society is, to a great extent, an extremely reliable model of stability, and, in spite of all the years of conflict – two foreign invasions with the interval of a long civil war – has not much changed since the years in which we, who lived there and loved the country, could travel freely, safely and comfortably from Kabul to all outlying areas.
It is a well known fact that the Taleban, as a socio-political phenomenon, are a relatively recent creation, encouraged in their early years as a weapon against the Soviet occupation. However, even in the seventies, what could be called a “Taleban mentality” existed in parts of the country: it could be said that for the people (particularly the women) of, for example, Khost or Kandahar, the difference between the years of Taleban rule and their usual lifestyle was not really very noticeable, except, perhaps, for increased security and a drastic fall in the level of corruption.
In fact, we must remember, that the Taleban takeover was welcomed in many parts of Afghanistan and by large segments of the population of Kabul, while it was feared by some of the ethnic groups – mainly the Hazara – in the North and viewed with great apprehension in the Western areas, particularly in Herat.
These differences persist, and I was fascinated by the sense of “déjà vu” I felt, in post-Taleban years, travelling from Herat to Shindand, in the same province: Herat has always been model of “Persian” civilisation, with people, friendly open-minded, and curious about foreigners. One saw many uncovered women’s faces there, and a sight which always struck me as particularly heartening was that of young girls, neatly dressed in school uniforms, marching off to receive the education which the Taleban had denied them. Shindand, instead, had all the austerity of a Pashtu town. The few women on the streets fully covered, the men, all bearded, strictly minding their own business and children being the only ones to show curiosity.
Civil society in Herat and similarly inclined areas would suffer greatly from the return of the Taleban, as would most of the ethnic groups in the north, the Hazara having the additional “handicap” of their “oriental” looks and of being in vast majority Shia.
There is a growing realisation of the need to “talk” to the Taleban, but, in my view, any negotiation with them should include also traditional leaders from non-Taleban areas, even if this should involve the so-called “War Lords”, and should be held on the basis of a future Afghanistan ruled on the principle of regional or provincial autonomy. The Taleban, on their part, will have quite a handful trying to control their own area, which some call “Pashtunistan”, negotiating and fighting with their peers on the Pakistani side of the infamous “Durand Line”.
The welfare of Afghan civil society is, by now, also our responsibility, and it would be tragic to abandon these people to their fate.
Carlo Ungaro
Via Campagnano 51
00060 Sacrofano (Italy)
+39 06 908 6098
+39 320 778 3160
carloungaro@gmail.com
When it comes to counting casualties, whether of military action, or of an accident or a disaster, there is a particular poignancy, almost a magical quality, in round numbers. It was therefore quite appropriate and understandable that, some weeks ago, British Prime Minister David Cameron should have commented on the three hundredth British death in the Afghan war.
This circumstance, perhaps, had more of a moral or psychological than a practical significance. It happened, however, to coincide with many other signs pointing to the need of urgent re-evaluation of the ultimate war aims in Afghanistan . It also shortly preceded signs of an evident deepening of the confusion and disarray which, for some time, have characterized both military and civilian activity there.
Much attention is rightly being focussed on the apparently inevitable military failure in Afghanistan. Dismay and frustration at the ever more confused enunciation of the war aims are also frequently expressed as explanations for the reasons of our presence and our ultimate goals there keep multiplying with amazing prolificacy, and have never really managed to be convincing. The lack of clarity emerged from the very beginning, when the justification was apparently simple and straightforward: the elimination and possible capture of the Al Qaeda hierarchy active in Afghanistan. Since then there has been only contradiction and confusion, until recently often amplified and enhanced by a prevalently unquestioning international press.
It is therefore understandable, but nonetheless unfortunate, that little time or space can be dedicated to the impact that this war – added on to two previous decades of conflict – is having on Afghan civil society, especially, but not only, on the women, who, along with significant ethnic minorities have much to fear from a return of the Taliban.
Afghanistan’s ethnic, religious, linguistic and cultural groups live, today as before, in separate and distinctive realities. These differences should be considered in any attempt to envision a viable political future for a country which will always – to its misfortune – maintain a strategic importance.
Afghanistan’s civil society is, to a great extent, an extremely reliable model of stability, and, in spite of all the years of conflict – two foreign invasions with the interval of a long civil war – has not much changed since the years in which we, who lived there and loved the country, could travel freely, safely and comfortably from Kabul to all outlying areas.
It is a well known fact that the Taleban, as a socio-political phenomenon, are a relatively recent creation, encouraged in their early years as a weapon against the Soviet occupation. However, even in the seventies, what could be called a “Taleban mentality” existed in parts of the country: it could be said that for the people (particularly the women) of, for example, Khost or Kandahar, the difference between the years of Taleban rule and their usual lifestyle was not really very noticeable, except, perhaps, for increased security and a drastic fall in the level of corruption.
In fact, we must remember, that the Taleban takeover was welcomed in many parts of Afghanistan and by large segments of the population of Kabul, while it was feared by some of the ethnic groups – mainly the Hazara – in the North and viewed with great apprehension in the Western areas, particularly in Herat.
These differences persist, and I was fascinated by the sense of “déjà vu” I felt, in post-Taleban years, travelling from Herat to Shindand, in the same province: Herat has always been model of “Persian” civilisation, with people, friendly open-minded, and curious about foreigners. One saw many uncovered women’s faces there, and a sight which always struck me as particularly heartening was that of young girls, neatly dressed in school uniforms, marching off to receive the education which the Taleban had denied them. Shindand, instead, had all the austerity of a Pashtu town. The few women on the streets fully covered, the men, all bearded, strictly minding their own business and children being the only ones to show curiosity.
Civil society in Herat and similarly inclined areas would suffer greatly from the return of the Taleban, as would most of the ethnic groups in the north, the Hazara having the additional “handicap” of their “oriental” looks and of being in vast majority Shia.
There is a growing realisation of the need to “talk” to the Taleban, but, in my view, any negotiation with them should include also traditional leaders from non-Taleban areas, even if this should involve the so-called “War Lords”, and should be held on the basis of a future Afghanistan ruled on the principle of regional or provincial autonomy. The Taleban, on their part, will have quite a handful trying to control their own area, which some call “Pashtunistan”, negotiating and fighting with their peers on the Pakistani side of the infamous “Durand Line”.
The welfare of Afghan civil society is, by now, also our responsibility, and it would be tragic to abandon these people to their fate.
Carlo Ungaro
Via Campagnano 51
00060 Sacrofano (Italy)
+39 06 908 6098
+39 320 778 3160
carloungaro@gmail.com
The Antiquarian of Herat
Rome, July 21, 2010
The beautifully kept grounds of the main Mosque in the western Afghan city of Herat are flanked by one of the town’s most attractive and busy streets. There, on an unbearably hot summer day of 1972, I came across a very friendly “antiquarian”, who, witnessing my state of exhaustion, took me into his vast store and offered me words of comfort and a large Coca-Cola.
He proudly showed me a “silver” cup, which he claimed, his hand on his heart, was a “very ancient” Russian artefact. So ancient it was that it bore an engraving of the 1957 Sputnik and had been produced in the Soviet Union on the first anniversary of the launch. Most foreign tourists would have greeted this allegation of antiquity either with hoots of derision, or with the certitude that they were dealing with a dishonest man. Both assumptions would have been wrong, unfair and insulting. Traditional Afghans have a deeply embedded sense of history, but, paradoxically, unlike us, they are not obsessed with chronology and are usually unsure even of their own age. I knew this because of childhood memories in Kabul. Our aged plumber, for instance, fascinated me with tales of his encounters with “Sikandar” (Alexander the Great). These are the results of a tradition of oral history, and he was totally convinced of what he was saying. The chronological discrepancy only dawned on me later, as I became progressively more “westernized”.
In retrospect, those days appear idyllic, and yet, by our tactless, overbearing and patronising attitudes, already then we were unwittingly sowing seeds of mutual distrust and animosity.
There are places, where Time really does seem to “stand still”, and I was overjoyed, though scarcely surprised, when, over three decades later (in 2005), I came across the very same “antiquarian”, tall, austere, with an immense black beard, now slowly turning white. He and his vast and dusty shop both appeared unaffected by the succession of tragic and violent events which had troubled the Country and, which, of course are far from over.
He greeted me like a long lost brother, not because he recognised me (in the seventies tourists were plentiful in Afghanistan) but because, like a true Afghan gentleman, he wanted to please and, of course, also spotted a potential customer and, possibly, a friend. I identified myself, and reminded him of our meeting long ago, mentioning the camel-bells he then sold in abundance because a drought had killed many camels.. We embraced fondly, although I’m not really sure that he remembered me, but he obviously liked the story and enjoyed speaking to a foreigner with no need of an interpreter.
These personal souvenirs are not an otiose autobiographical exercise, but rather an attempt to examine the Afghan Civil Society in those years, focussing the attention on how we, the foreign community, could possibly have contributed to the erosion of its lasting, though fragile, stability. The clues were there for all to see: Mainly the great and growing cultural (and, of course, economic) gap between a very westernized, and timidly secularised elite in Kabul and the rest of the country, even on the very outskirts of the Capital. I once rode into a nearby caravanserai and was greeted, as usual, with effusive affability. As I dismounted, I realised that my wristwatch, my glasses and my horse’s tack were probably the only signs that we actually were in the twentieth century, and not in biblical times. Kabul, which some called “the Paris of Central Asia”, seemed very far away indeed both in time and in space.
I am convinced that unwittingly, often with the best of intentions, we, and some of our Afghan friends were convinced that progress could be achieved throughout the country not only in the standard of living but also in a gradual evolution to a more “enlightened” (i.e. “western”) lifestyle. Very few foreigners and a small but growing number of our Afghan friends seemed aware of the dangers or preoccupied by them: the fact was, however, that the centuries-old fabric of Afghan society was being torn, up to then through peaceful means, with no viable alternative being offered.
This is not the appropriate venue in which to discuss the reasons for our continued military presence in Afghanistan, or to offer different options to the growingly elusive military solution.
Our actions, however, have undeniably brought about a violent disruption in the existence of Afghan civil society which, strong as it is (my Herat antiquarian is a living example) would have great difficulty withstanding further upheaval, such as that which could be brought about by our hasty departure.
Efforts are being made to “train” Afghan military and security forces, and there are signs of an orientation to revive the power of the “war lords”. Are any serious, effective efforts being undertaken to leave behind also a cultural legacy to which the Afghan middle classes of the future will be able to adhere? I sometimes feel that also our civilian intervention there will turn out to have been disastrous.
Carlo Ungaro
The beautifully kept grounds of the main Mosque in the western Afghan city of Herat are flanked by one of the town’s most attractive and busy streets. There, on an unbearably hot summer day of 1972, I came across a very friendly “antiquarian”, who, witnessing my state of exhaustion, took me into his vast store and offered me words of comfort and a large Coca-Cola.
He proudly showed me a “silver” cup, which he claimed, his hand on his heart, was a “very ancient” Russian artefact. So ancient it was that it bore an engraving of the 1957 Sputnik and had been produced in the Soviet Union on the first anniversary of the launch. Most foreign tourists would have greeted this allegation of antiquity either with hoots of derision, or with the certitude that they were dealing with a dishonest man. Both assumptions would have been wrong, unfair and insulting. Traditional Afghans have a deeply embedded sense of history, but, paradoxically, unlike us, they are not obsessed with chronology and are usually unsure even of their own age. I knew this because of childhood memories in Kabul. Our aged plumber, for instance, fascinated me with tales of his encounters with “Sikandar” (Alexander the Great). These are the results of a tradition of oral history, and he was totally convinced of what he was saying. The chronological discrepancy only dawned on me later, as I became progressively more “westernized”.
In retrospect, those days appear idyllic, and yet, by our tactless, overbearing and patronising attitudes, already then we were unwittingly sowing seeds of mutual distrust and animosity.
There are places, where Time really does seem to “stand still”, and I was overjoyed, though scarcely surprised, when, over three decades later (in 2005), I came across the very same “antiquarian”, tall, austere, with an immense black beard, now slowly turning white. He and his vast and dusty shop both appeared unaffected by the succession of tragic and violent events which had troubled the Country and, which, of course are far from over.
He greeted me like a long lost brother, not because he recognised me (in the seventies tourists were plentiful in Afghanistan) but because, like a true Afghan gentleman, he wanted to please and, of course, also spotted a potential customer and, possibly, a friend. I identified myself, and reminded him of our meeting long ago, mentioning the camel-bells he then sold in abundance because a drought had killed many camels.. We embraced fondly, although I’m not really sure that he remembered me, but he obviously liked the story and enjoyed speaking to a foreigner with no need of an interpreter.
These personal souvenirs are not an otiose autobiographical exercise, but rather an attempt to examine the Afghan Civil Society in those years, focussing the attention on how we, the foreign community, could possibly have contributed to the erosion of its lasting, though fragile, stability. The clues were there for all to see: Mainly the great and growing cultural (and, of course, economic) gap between a very westernized, and timidly secularised elite in Kabul and the rest of the country, even on the very outskirts of the Capital. I once rode into a nearby caravanserai and was greeted, as usual, with effusive affability. As I dismounted, I realised that my wristwatch, my glasses and my horse’s tack were probably the only signs that we actually were in the twentieth century, and not in biblical times. Kabul, which some called “the Paris of Central Asia”, seemed very far away indeed both in time and in space.
I am convinced that unwittingly, often with the best of intentions, we, and some of our Afghan friends were convinced that progress could be achieved throughout the country not only in the standard of living but also in a gradual evolution to a more “enlightened” (i.e. “western”) lifestyle. Very few foreigners and a small but growing number of our Afghan friends seemed aware of the dangers or preoccupied by them: the fact was, however, that the centuries-old fabric of Afghan society was being torn, up to then through peaceful means, with no viable alternative being offered.
This is not the appropriate venue in which to discuss the reasons for our continued military presence in Afghanistan, or to offer different options to the growingly elusive military solution.
Our actions, however, have undeniably brought about a violent disruption in the existence of Afghan civil society which, strong as it is (my Herat antiquarian is a living example) would have great difficulty withstanding further upheaval, such as that which could be brought about by our hasty departure.
Efforts are being made to “train” Afghan military and security forces, and there are signs of an orientation to revive the power of the “war lords”. Are any serious, effective efforts being undertaken to leave behind also a cultural legacy to which the Afghan middle classes of the future will be able to adhere? I sometimes feel that also our civilian intervention there will turn out to have been disastrous.
Carlo Ungaro
venerdì 9 luglio 2010
THE D.R. CONGO FIFTY YEARS ON
Greed and exploitation: DR Congo's 50th anniversary
Carlo Ungaro
2010-07-08, Issue 489
http://pambazuka.org/en/category/comment/65770
Printer friendly version
cc J HWith the DR Congo having passed 50 years of independence, Carlo Ungaro reflects on a turbulent history, the originally pervasive support for Mobutu and the greed of myriad interests in destabilising the country.On 30 June 1960, the 'Belgian Congo' obtained its independence, at a time in which a number of former African colonies were achieving the same goal.
The beginnings were inauspicious, with the visit of King Baudouin being marred first by Prime Minister Patrice Lumumba’s inaugural speech, which departed from the agreed text and contained a scathing – if well articulated and well deserved – attack on the 'white rulers' of the Congo, and secondly by an incident which appeared comical at the time, but somehow was an omen of things to come: in the course of the royal motorcade, a Congolese citizen eluded security barriers, leapt into the king’s limousine and made off with the ceremonial sword.
I was posted there – my first diplomatic posting – shortly after the murder of Patrice Lumumba. Mobutu’s (then Lieutenant Colonel Joseph Désiré Mobutu) first military takeover had taken place and had ended with his returning power to the civilians, as he had promised. A 'moderate' democratic government was then already in existence, which, by its composition and actions, gave rise to justifiable optimism for the county’s future.
Over the distance of all these years, I still occasionally ask myself 'what went wrong?', and why a land so rich both in natural and human resources (Congolese art and music are second to none in Africa, and already then there was an effervescent intellectual middle class) ended up sliding further and further into chaos and senseless violence.
It is hard to pin down a turning point. The violent rebellion in the east, with the consequent addition of foreign (mainly white) mercenaries to the equation of violence, Moise Tchombe’s seizing of power with the help of Belgian (and other Western) interests – the same figure who some years earlier had brought about the Katanga 'secession' – and the rather suspect death of UN Secretary General Dag Hammarskjöld were all dramatic events causing a rise in existing tensions, but none of them seemed decisive.
Then, in November of 1965, Mobutu (by now General Mobutu) seized power again. Those of us who had met Mobutu and who really thought we knew (and liked) the man heaved a sigh of relief. He asked for 'five years' and then he would return power to the civilians, and, of course, because of the historic precedent, we believed him. There was much enthusiasm during those first heady times – Congolese musical geniuses came up with songs and ditties such as 'Cinq ans, cinq ans, Mobutu au gouvernement' – and even normally sceptical observers, the so-called 'seasoned diplomats', had to admit that he had introduced a new dynamic style in Congolese political life, proclaiming to enthusiastically cheering crowds that he was about to abolish tribalism, corruption, poverty and other ills.
AGAIN, WHAT WENT WRONG?
Even after all these years, Lumumba’s speech is well worth listening to, and for those of us who were in Congo in the period immediately following his assassination, it had a feeling of authenticity and appeared still applicable to many – certainly not all – European residents. This could relate especially, but not exclusively, to those Belgians – mainly Flemish – who had decided to 'stay on' after a precipitous flight caused by the first 'troubles', an army mutiny, shortly after independence.
Some did not hide their contempt for the 'natives', and spoke with open nostalgia of the 'good old days' and of the recent Katanga 'secession'. In the months preceding Mobutu’s takeover, these were ardently hoping and actively working for the creation of a Tchombe government, which they felt would be more 'sensitive' to their demands. The racism, so eloquently depicted by Lumumba, was still very active, and how often did I hear the tired joke of those who would go to South Africa because they were dreaming of a 'white Christmas'.
I have read, with more than usual interest, that Louis Michel, a very influential Belgian MEP (member of the European Parliament) and a former European Union commissioner, has been trying to rehabilitate the figure of King Leopold, to whom, instead, most historians and observers attribute the responsibility for the Congolese disaster. These statements certainly appear shocking to most of us, but I believe that still today, as indeed in the 1960s, there is a hardcore school of thought in which the Congo atrocities are minimised, indeed justified, and the responsibility for the disastrous outcome of Congolese independence is attributed to a hopelessly 'primitive' mentality and to the work of well-intentioned but misinformed 'do-gooders' who have conspired to instil wrong ideas into the minds of the Congolese people.
Michela Wrong some years ago wrote an extremely pleasing and important book on the end of the Mobutu regime, and gave it the evocative title 'In the Footsteps of Mr. Kurtz', with, of course, a reference to Joseph Conrad’s 'The Heart of Darkness'. The temptation to explain current political events through historical analysis is always strong, but has its pitfalls and needs to be controlled. In the case of the Democratic Republic of the Congo, however, retracing, as it were, Conrad’s Congolese journey could be a useful exercise – as indeed, a swift perusal of the Congo’s incredibly cruel 19th century ordeal could show the reasons for its weak and fragile social structure.
It would be a mistake, however, to attribute the Congolese tragedy entirely and exclusively to King Leopold or to the subsequent Belgian colonial rule. Indeed, in later years, the colony received a rather valid infrastructure system, no worse than that which was left by other colonial powers, and, thanks to reforms in the education system, a literate, cultured middle class was also emerging.
The tragedy of the Congo, from the days of Stanley to the present, has been its immense, almost unbelievable wealth, and the uncontrolled, unbridled greed with which it has been – and is being – exploited. It has to be added that if this exploitation was perpetrated exclusively by Europeans as long as the Congo was a colony and in the immediate aftermath of its independence, in later years the scramble for the country’s riches has included many Congolese themselves working either with foreigners or on their own.
I saw this cancer growing when I was there, starting in Katanga and then spreading to the rest of the country, corrupting all those it touched, and finally bringing about the country’s total ruin.
Many of us, in 1965, really believed that Mobutu would be able to turn things around, and I am rather convinced that he, in good faith, actually believed so himself. For a while, after seizing the presidency, Mobutu remained, at least in appearance, immune from the megalomania and the paranoia so often associated with absolute power: he still was a seemingly unassuming, intelligent, humorous individual, to all appearances earnestly dedicated to the welfare and development of his country.
One of the first signals of incipient paranoia came the following year, when a former prime minister and three former cabinet ministers, clad only in their underwear, were publicly hanged for allegedly conspiring to overthrow Mobutu. Such was his charisma, however, and so deep the feeling that he was basically a 'good guy', that until the very last many of us – Congolese and foreign – were sure that a last-minute reprieve would be issued. The men, instead, were duly executed and it can be said that the spiral of megalomaniac paranoia and of absolute corruption and accumulation of wealth began more or less concurrently, although very few if any of us, the foreign observers, had an inkling of what was to come.
The last memory I have of Kinshasa is that of waiting for my final flight, in the blistering heat of Ndjili airport, thinking to myself, quite confidently, that 'things could not get any worse', while instead the deterioration was constant and lasted almost four decades, bringing the Democratic Republic of the Congo to the verge of becoming a 'failed state'.
Europeans and successive American administrations share a lot of responsibility, if nothing else for having bolstered and thus encouraged, for many years, the misdeeds of a regime such as Mobutu’s in the name of security and anti-communism. But human greed was and is the prime culprit of the situation there. We can only hope that the solemn occasion of the 50th anniversary of independence will give the Congolese and their friends the strength and the means to reverse the situation.
I can’t help, however, being obsessed by a nagging doubt, and I keep asking myself if a similar fate is, for instance, being prepared for Afghanistan. Why was the 'discovery' of vast riches there given so much publicity at a moment when Afghan civilian social structure has been weakened by three decades of conflict? The lessons of history are there, but few seem interested in learning from them.
BROUGHT TO YOU BY PAMBAZUKA NEWS
* Carlo Ungaro is a retired senior Italian diplomatic officer, who has spent many years of his career in Asia (Central Asia, Afghanistan) and Africa (Congo, Somalia).
* Please send comments to editor@pambazuka.org or comment online at Pambazuka News.
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ISSN 1753-6839 Fahamu
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ISSN 1753-6847 Pambazuka News en Français http://www.pambazuka.org/fr/
ISSN 1757-6504 Pambazuka News em Português http://www.pambazuka.org/pt/
© 2009 Fahamu - http://www.fahamu.org/
Carlo Ungaro
2010-07-08, Issue 489
http://pambazuka.org/en/category/comment/65770
Printer friendly version
cc J HWith the DR Congo having passed 50 years of independence, Carlo Ungaro reflects on a turbulent history, the originally pervasive support for Mobutu and the greed of myriad interests in destabilising the country.On 30 June 1960, the 'Belgian Congo' obtained its independence, at a time in which a number of former African colonies were achieving the same goal.
The beginnings were inauspicious, with the visit of King Baudouin being marred first by Prime Minister Patrice Lumumba’s inaugural speech, which departed from the agreed text and contained a scathing – if well articulated and well deserved – attack on the 'white rulers' of the Congo, and secondly by an incident which appeared comical at the time, but somehow was an omen of things to come: in the course of the royal motorcade, a Congolese citizen eluded security barriers, leapt into the king’s limousine and made off with the ceremonial sword.
I was posted there – my first diplomatic posting – shortly after the murder of Patrice Lumumba. Mobutu’s (then Lieutenant Colonel Joseph Désiré Mobutu) first military takeover had taken place and had ended with his returning power to the civilians, as he had promised. A 'moderate' democratic government was then already in existence, which, by its composition and actions, gave rise to justifiable optimism for the county’s future.
Over the distance of all these years, I still occasionally ask myself 'what went wrong?', and why a land so rich both in natural and human resources (Congolese art and music are second to none in Africa, and already then there was an effervescent intellectual middle class) ended up sliding further and further into chaos and senseless violence.
It is hard to pin down a turning point. The violent rebellion in the east, with the consequent addition of foreign (mainly white) mercenaries to the equation of violence, Moise Tchombe’s seizing of power with the help of Belgian (and other Western) interests – the same figure who some years earlier had brought about the Katanga 'secession' – and the rather suspect death of UN Secretary General Dag Hammarskjöld were all dramatic events causing a rise in existing tensions, but none of them seemed decisive.
Then, in November of 1965, Mobutu (by now General Mobutu) seized power again. Those of us who had met Mobutu and who really thought we knew (and liked) the man heaved a sigh of relief. He asked for 'five years' and then he would return power to the civilians, and, of course, because of the historic precedent, we believed him. There was much enthusiasm during those first heady times – Congolese musical geniuses came up with songs and ditties such as 'Cinq ans, cinq ans, Mobutu au gouvernement' – and even normally sceptical observers, the so-called 'seasoned diplomats', had to admit that he had introduced a new dynamic style in Congolese political life, proclaiming to enthusiastically cheering crowds that he was about to abolish tribalism, corruption, poverty and other ills.
AGAIN, WHAT WENT WRONG?
Even after all these years, Lumumba’s speech is well worth listening to, and for those of us who were in Congo in the period immediately following his assassination, it had a feeling of authenticity and appeared still applicable to many – certainly not all – European residents. This could relate especially, but not exclusively, to those Belgians – mainly Flemish – who had decided to 'stay on' after a precipitous flight caused by the first 'troubles', an army mutiny, shortly after independence.
Some did not hide their contempt for the 'natives', and spoke with open nostalgia of the 'good old days' and of the recent Katanga 'secession'. In the months preceding Mobutu’s takeover, these were ardently hoping and actively working for the creation of a Tchombe government, which they felt would be more 'sensitive' to their demands. The racism, so eloquently depicted by Lumumba, was still very active, and how often did I hear the tired joke of those who would go to South Africa because they were dreaming of a 'white Christmas'.
I have read, with more than usual interest, that Louis Michel, a very influential Belgian MEP (member of the European Parliament) and a former European Union commissioner, has been trying to rehabilitate the figure of King Leopold, to whom, instead, most historians and observers attribute the responsibility for the Congolese disaster. These statements certainly appear shocking to most of us, but I believe that still today, as indeed in the 1960s, there is a hardcore school of thought in which the Congo atrocities are minimised, indeed justified, and the responsibility for the disastrous outcome of Congolese independence is attributed to a hopelessly 'primitive' mentality and to the work of well-intentioned but misinformed 'do-gooders' who have conspired to instil wrong ideas into the minds of the Congolese people.
Michela Wrong some years ago wrote an extremely pleasing and important book on the end of the Mobutu regime, and gave it the evocative title 'In the Footsteps of Mr. Kurtz', with, of course, a reference to Joseph Conrad’s 'The Heart of Darkness'. The temptation to explain current political events through historical analysis is always strong, but has its pitfalls and needs to be controlled. In the case of the Democratic Republic of the Congo, however, retracing, as it were, Conrad’s Congolese journey could be a useful exercise – as indeed, a swift perusal of the Congo’s incredibly cruel 19th century ordeal could show the reasons for its weak and fragile social structure.
It would be a mistake, however, to attribute the Congolese tragedy entirely and exclusively to King Leopold or to the subsequent Belgian colonial rule. Indeed, in later years, the colony received a rather valid infrastructure system, no worse than that which was left by other colonial powers, and, thanks to reforms in the education system, a literate, cultured middle class was also emerging.
The tragedy of the Congo, from the days of Stanley to the present, has been its immense, almost unbelievable wealth, and the uncontrolled, unbridled greed with which it has been – and is being – exploited. It has to be added that if this exploitation was perpetrated exclusively by Europeans as long as the Congo was a colony and in the immediate aftermath of its independence, in later years the scramble for the country’s riches has included many Congolese themselves working either with foreigners or on their own.
I saw this cancer growing when I was there, starting in Katanga and then spreading to the rest of the country, corrupting all those it touched, and finally bringing about the country’s total ruin.
Many of us, in 1965, really believed that Mobutu would be able to turn things around, and I am rather convinced that he, in good faith, actually believed so himself. For a while, after seizing the presidency, Mobutu remained, at least in appearance, immune from the megalomania and the paranoia so often associated with absolute power: he still was a seemingly unassuming, intelligent, humorous individual, to all appearances earnestly dedicated to the welfare and development of his country.
One of the first signals of incipient paranoia came the following year, when a former prime minister and three former cabinet ministers, clad only in their underwear, were publicly hanged for allegedly conspiring to overthrow Mobutu. Such was his charisma, however, and so deep the feeling that he was basically a 'good guy', that until the very last many of us – Congolese and foreign – were sure that a last-minute reprieve would be issued. The men, instead, were duly executed and it can be said that the spiral of megalomaniac paranoia and of absolute corruption and accumulation of wealth began more or less concurrently, although very few if any of us, the foreign observers, had an inkling of what was to come.
The last memory I have of Kinshasa is that of waiting for my final flight, in the blistering heat of Ndjili airport, thinking to myself, quite confidently, that 'things could not get any worse', while instead the deterioration was constant and lasted almost four decades, bringing the Democratic Republic of the Congo to the verge of becoming a 'failed state'.
Europeans and successive American administrations share a lot of responsibility, if nothing else for having bolstered and thus encouraged, for many years, the misdeeds of a regime such as Mobutu’s in the name of security and anti-communism. But human greed was and is the prime culprit of the situation there. We can only hope that the solemn occasion of the 50th anniversary of independence will give the Congolese and their friends the strength and the means to reverse the situation.
I can’t help, however, being obsessed by a nagging doubt, and I keep asking myself if a similar fate is, for instance, being prepared for Afghanistan. Why was the 'discovery' of vast riches there given so much publicity at a moment when Afghan civilian social structure has been weakened by three decades of conflict? The lessons of history are there, but few seem interested in learning from them.
BROUGHT TO YOU BY PAMBAZUKA NEWS
* Carlo Ungaro is a retired senior Italian diplomatic officer, who has spent many years of his career in Asia (Central Asia, Afghanistan) and Africa (Congo, Somalia).
* Please send comments to editor@pambazuka.org or comment online at Pambazuka News.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Readers' Comments
Let your voice be heard. Comment on this article.
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ISSN 1753-6839 Fahamu
ISSN 1753-6839 Pambazuka News English Edition http://www.pambazuka.org/en/
ISSN 1753-6847 Pambazuka News en Français http://www.pambazuka.org/fr/
ISSN 1757-6504 Pambazuka News em Português http://www.pambazuka.org/pt/
© 2009 Fahamu - http://www.fahamu.org/
giovedì 1 luglio 2010
ITALY'S DRIFT TOWARDS A BURGEOIS NEO-FASCISM
This article has been published by "Open Democracy" with the title: "Italy’s “business as usual”
There is a certain kind of drift into a regime that has nothing to do with the introduction of paramilitary stances, Roman salutes or party uniforms: more to do with television
Carlo Ungaro
The year 2011 will mark the 150th anniversary of the unification of Italy. The most influential political party in the Italian ruling coalition – the “Northern League” – has publicly and flamboyantly indicated its lack of interest in the celebrations, and its leaders were conspicuously absent at the parade held for Italy’s National Day last June 2.
This is just one example of the malaise which permeates the Italian political scene today, even as many notice – with growing, impotent fascination – the country’s seemingly inexorable glide into what could be defined as a form of “bourgeois neo-fascism”, greeted with apathetic indifference by the vast majority of the population.
The roots of this unwholesome situation reach far back into the country’s history. At the very beginning of its reign, in 1861, the fledgling Italian Monarchy found itself confronted by a number of major problems which it failed to tackle, and which many decades later still persist. The lack of a really deep-seated sense of national unity; the great social and economic gap between North and South; together with the oppressive presence of the Pope and the Roman Catholic hierarchy on the national turf, were certainly three of the biggest concerns. Although partially tackled – with some success – both by the Fascist regime (1922-1943) and by subsequent republican governments, they have been, and still remain, major impediments to the country’s political and social progress.
The first two of these problems go hand in hand: and as the economic gap between north and south widens, so too does the intense rivalry between two very distinctive cultures, constantly eroding the sense of unity bound by the use of a common language with its historical and cultural resonances of belonging to the same nation. The “Northern League” tends to exasperate feelings of frustration which they insist are due to the useless handicap imposed on the regions of the North by a “thieving and lazy” South. Their request for a “federal” solution is often accompanied by empty and yet effective threats of “secession”.
There is a more than apparent contradiction in the situation: a strong government, with definite authoritarian tendencies, supported by a very large parliamentary majority is compelled, by its most prominent partner, to dedicate the bulk of its energies to the decentralisation of power and its devolution to regional authorities. The results can be chaotic and begin to show growing rifts within the majority itself.
The considerable, insidious weight of the Catholic Church constitutes, in itself, a fundamental factor in Italy’s failure to achieve a normal social status. At present, however, its influence appears secondary compared to the constant erosion of Constitutional guarantees on the part of the Government, as well as the growing centrifugal tendencies shown by the Northern League, easily the country’s most efficient and influential political party.
There is one fundamental factor, however, that is at the basis of the current crisis in Italian democracy, contributing directly to the gradual loss of democratic sensibility by the population: the Prime Minister, Silvio Berlusconi, owns the three most relevant private national television channels. By grossly overreaching his powers as head of Government, he exerts undue influence on public channels as well. He does not attempt to hide this and has frequently stated that “in a civilised country” the “state television” (he never uses the correct term “public television”) does not broadcast programmes which are “critical of the Government”.
He has also openly reiterated that “since the people have given me such a large majority, I must be allowed to govern”. This statement signals a deep, oft-stated aspiration radically to modify the Constitution (which he has often and publicly dismissed as a “Soviet- inspired document”) in order to remove or fundamentally loosen those “checks and balances” which still work, albeit in ever more difficult circumstances.
He has repeatedly referred to himself as “the greatest Prime Minister in Italy’s history”, and his efficient propaganda machine keeps informing the Italian public of his popularity and triumphs on the international scene: a telephone call by Berlusconi to Angela Merkel, Italians have been told, brought about the success of the recent EU summit on the Greek crisis. There is no trace of this in the international media, but then, it is easy to take advantage of Italy’s cultural isolation. Most Italians are stubbornly monolingual and, for example, have never seen a foreign film if not badly translated and atrociously dubbed, nor do they follow international news on foreign channels. Their only source of information is television, because only a small minority read the vast number of Italian newspapers, most of which are of a high standard.
At the moment the Government appears to be losing a battle, thanks to the “defection” of some political allies, which would have had Parliament approving a law - which the press has almost unanimously dubbed “the muzzle law” - designed to silence most forms of investigative journalism and to undermine the powers of public prosecutors and judges. If the law should pass, the control of telephone conversations would be difficult and the reproduction of bugged conversations would be a crime: this would protect many leading politicians (the main object of the proposed legislation) but it would also be a boon for organised criminality.
According to the official propaganda “leitmotif”, virtually all Italians are subject to arbitrary telephone control, and the law is designed to safeguard the sacred right to privacy. In reality the number of legally established telephone controls (or other forms of electronic espionage) is extremely limited and applies only to people under investigation, or strongly suspected of very serious crimes, including Mafia activity.
In reality the law is designed to prevent the press from reporting precisely on those links between politics and criminality which are of great public interest, and the “privacy” which would be defended concerns highly placed political figures, who for some reason, often are involved in conversation with some of the people under investigation.
It is also true that some newspapers have very easily and freely published extracts from official transcripts which concerned prurient aspects of some politician's private life and had nothing to do with any criminal investigation: the point is to find a solution that can prevent these abuses without muzzling the press in its right to conduct investigative reporting.
The Government has had to back down from its initial demands, but the battle is still raging.
The path towards the transformation of the government into a “regime” is, far from complete, and is taking place in a “business as usual” atmosphere which does not plan the introduction of paramilitary stances, Roman salutes or party uniforms. This makes it all the more dangerous and menacing.
Some have described the period we are living through as “Italy’s Weimar” – referring to Germany’s ill-fated democratic experience between World War One and the Nazi regime. Others claim that if Italy, in its present state, were to apply for membership in the European Union, doubts would be expressed on its eligibility.
These, doubtless, are exaggerations: but there is a feeling here that Italian democracy is in real danger.
There is a certain kind of drift into a regime that has nothing to do with the introduction of paramilitary stances, Roman salutes or party uniforms: more to do with television
Carlo Ungaro
The year 2011 will mark the 150th anniversary of the unification of Italy. The most influential political party in the Italian ruling coalition – the “Northern League” – has publicly and flamboyantly indicated its lack of interest in the celebrations, and its leaders were conspicuously absent at the parade held for Italy’s National Day last June 2.
This is just one example of the malaise which permeates the Italian political scene today, even as many notice – with growing, impotent fascination – the country’s seemingly inexorable glide into what could be defined as a form of “bourgeois neo-fascism”, greeted with apathetic indifference by the vast majority of the population.
The roots of this unwholesome situation reach far back into the country’s history. At the very beginning of its reign, in 1861, the fledgling Italian Monarchy found itself confronted by a number of major problems which it failed to tackle, and which many decades later still persist. The lack of a really deep-seated sense of national unity; the great social and economic gap between North and South; together with the oppressive presence of the Pope and the Roman Catholic hierarchy on the national turf, were certainly three of the biggest concerns. Although partially tackled – with some success – both by the Fascist regime (1922-1943) and by subsequent republican governments, they have been, and still remain, major impediments to the country’s political and social progress.
The first two of these problems go hand in hand: and as the economic gap between north and south widens, so too does the intense rivalry between two very distinctive cultures, constantly eroding the sense of unity bound by the use of a common language with its historical and cultural resonances of belonging to the same nation. The “Northern League” tends to exasperate feelings of frustration which they insist are due to the useless handicap imposed on the regions of the North by a “thieving and lazy” South. Their request for a “federal” solution is often accompanied by empty and yet effective threats of “secession”.
There is a more than apparent contradiction in the situation: a strong government, with definite authoritarian tendencies, supported by a very large parliamentary majority is compelled, by its most prominent partner, to dedicate the bulk of its energies to the decentralisation of power and its devolution to regional authorities. The results can be chaotic and begin to show growing rifts within the majority itself.
The considerable, insidious weight of the Catholic Church constitutes, in itself, a fundamental factor in Italy’s failure to achieve a normal social status. At present, however, its influence appears secondary compared to the constant erosion of Constitutional guarantees on the part of the Government, as well as the growing centrifugal tendencies shown by the Northern League, easily the country’s most efficient and influential political party.
There is one fundamental factor, however, that is at the basis of the current crisis in Italian democracy, contributing directly to the gradual loss of democratic sensibility by the population: the Prime Minister, Silvio Berlusconi, owns the three most relevant private national television channels. By grossly overreaching his powers as head of Government, he exerts undue influence on public channels as well. He does not attempt to hide this and has frequently stated that “in a civilised country” the “state television” (he never uses the correct term “public television”) does not broadcast programmes which are “critical of the Government”.
He has also openly reiterated that “since the people have given me such a large majority, I must be allowed to govern”. This statement signals a deep, oft-stated aspiration radically to modify the Constitution (which he has often and publicly dismissed as a “Soviet- inspired document”) in order to remove or fundamentally loosen those “checks and balances” which still work, albeit in ever more difficult circumstances.
He has repeatedly referred to himself as “the greatest Prime Minister in Italy’s history”, and his efficient propaganda machine keeps informing the Italian public of his popularity and triumphs on the international scene: a telephone call by Berlusconi to Angela Merkel, Italians have been told, brought about the success of the recent EU summit on the Greek crisis. There is no trace of this in the international media, but then, it is easy to take advantage of Italy’s cultural isolation. Most Italians are stubbornly monolingual and, for example, have never seen a foreign film if not badly translated and atrociously dubbed, nor do they follow international news on foreign channels. Their only source of information is television, because only a small minority read the vast number of Italian newspapers, most of which are of a high standard.
At the moment the Government appears to be losing a battle, thanks to the “defection” of some political allies, which would have had Parliament approving a law - which the press has almost unanimously dubbed “the muzzle law” - designed to silence most forms of investigative journalism and to undermine the powers of public prosecutors and judges. If the law should pass, the control of telephone conversations would be difficult and the reproduction of bugged conversations would be a crime: this would protect many leading politicians (the main object of the proposed legislation) but it would also be a boon for organised criminality.
According to the official propaganda “leitmotif”, virtually all Italians are subject to arbitrary telephone control, and the law is designed to safeguard the sacred right to privacy. In reality the number of legally established telephone controls (or other forms of electronic espionage) is extremely limited and applies only to people under investigation, or strongly suspected of very serious crimes, including Mafia activity.
In reality the law is designed to prevent the press from reporting precisely on those links between politics and criminality which are of great public interest, and the “privacy” which would be defended concerns highly placed political figures, who for some reason, often are involved in conversation with some of the people under investigation.
It is also true that some newspapers have very easily and freely published extracts from official transcripts which concerned prurient aspects of some politician's private life and had nothing to do with any criminal investigation: the point is to find a solution that can prevent these abuses without muzzling the press in its right to conduct investigative reporting.
The Government has had to back down from its initial demands, but the battle is still raging.
The path towards the transformation of the government into a “regime” is, far from complete, and is taking place in a “business as usual” atmosphere which does not plan the introduction of paramilitary stances, Roman salutes or party uniforms. This makes it all the more dangerous and menacing.
Some have described the period we are living through as “Italy’s Weimar” – referring to Germany’s ill-fated democratic experience between World War One and the Nazi regime. Others claim that if Italy, in its present state, were to apply for membership in the European Union, doubts would be expressed on its eligibility.
These, doubtless, are exaggerations: but there is a feeling here that Italian democracy is in real danger.
sabato 26 giugno 2010
Is Afghanistan’s Jirgah a way forward?
(Article published by “Open Democracy”)
These days the military intervention in Afghanistan has surpassed Viet Nam to become the longest lasting war effort in US history. It does not look like a coincidence that particularly deadly attacks are being carried out by the Taleban, while the repeated threats of an “all out attack” on Kandahar underlines the Sisyphean nature of NATO’s efforts.
These circumstances do not bode well for the success of the recently convened “Peace Jirgah”, and yet the idea deserves close scrutiny and should not be dismissed, out of hand, as yet another failed attempt by The Afghan Government .- with the support of its allies – to embark upon a political path instead of relying mainly on a military venture which shows no signs of imminent success.
My first memory of an Afghan Jirgah dates back to the years of World War II, when, as a child, I was living in Kabul with my parents: the British had issued strong demands that Afghanistan deport all Axis citizens, and close their Diplomatic Missions. A “Loya Jirgah” was convened and, after many days of debate, declared – to our great relief – that this would contravene Afghanistan’s laws of hospitality. A fundamentally important decision had been taken which would guarantee Afghanistan’s neutrality until the Soviet invasion of 1979.
The Jirgah has traditionally been an institute of primary importance in the Pathan tribal areas of Pakistan and the Pashtun areas of Afghanistan. Although, traditionally, it gathered only Pashtun tribal elders, in modern times it has been extended also to include representatives of all the other areas.
It can be argued, as, indeed it has been argued, that this form of representation is much more suited to the Afghan political reality than a western-style Parliament, no matter how correct the electoral process. Afghanistan, as, indeed, Pakistan’s North-West, is, basically, a tribal society and peaceful coexistence among the tribes cannot be guaranteed by political processes which do not take this reality into account.
With the passage of time, the term “democracy” has acquired a rather dogmatic aspect, and is associated with certain particular rituals which have evolved, in the course of centuries, in some western societies, and which have then been applied, with success, also outside Europe and North America. An analysis, even a superficial one, of local interpretations of democracy would be completely out of context in an attempt to examine the Afghan situation, which is of grave and understandable concern, but serious thought ought to be given on how it would be possible to reconcile the need for stability in such a volatile and strategically important area with social and political realities which long predate the current insurgency, and all this without further eroding basic liberties.
It is, of course, probable that the Jirgah called by president Karzai will not have immediate, appreciable repercussions in the desired direction, mainly because, rightly or wrongly, the President no longer has the massive backing of the Afghan people, not even in his own tribal area. At the same time, his support among the leading international actors in Afghanistan has also sensibly declined. These circumstances, unfortunately, lend credibility to the accusations that this Jirgah is rigged and that it has been packed with Karzai supporters, thereby depriving it of the dignity essential to its success.
A future scenario could, however, be envisaged in which enhanced local autonomy would allow the application of “our” democratic rules in Towns and Provinces ready freely to choose such a solution (Herat comes to mind), while others could choose more traditional methods of local rule. The central Government, instead, with a role more of guidance and coordination rather than dominance or rule, would be more in tune with the traditions of the land. This arrangement has worked in the past, and could be an indication – with the necessary variations – of a way forward.
The calling of Jirgahs, and their composition and competences should not be left to the arbitrary will of the Head of State, but rather be regulated in a new, bold and imaginative attempt to reconcile respected and valid Afghan traditions to the country’s aspirations to be part of the modern family of nations.
Of course, the principal obstacle to any durable, credible negotiated settlement remains the massive and bellicose foreign military presence, whose support of the government is distasteful to many strata of Afghan opinion. The possibility of solutions along the lines suggested by the Jirgah would be greatly enhanced if agreements in that sense would coincide with a publicized, credible and accepted timetable for the withdrawal of the bulk of foreign troops.
As things stand, there are few alternative suitable solutions, and recourse to the Jirgah as a convincing instrument of negotiation should not be discarded..
These days the military intervention in Afghanistan has surpassed Viet Nam to become the longest lasting war effort in US history. It does not look like a coincidence that particularly deadly attacks are being carried out by the Taleban, while the repeated threats of an “all out attack” on Kandahar underlines the Sisyphean nature of NATO’s efforts.
These circumstances do not bode well for the success of the recently convened “Peace Jirgah”, and yet the idea deserves close scrutiny and should not be dismissed, out of hand, as yet another failed attempt by The Afghan Government .- with the support of its allies – to embark upon a political path instead of relying mainly on a military venture which shows no signs of imminent success.
My first memory of an Afghan Jirgah dates back to the years of World War II, when, as a child, I was living in Kabul with my parents: the British had issued strong demands that Afghanistan deport all Axis citizens, and close their Diplomatic Missions. A “Loya Jirgah” was convened and, after many days of debate, declared – to our great relief – that this would contravene Afghanistan’s laws of hospitality. A fundamentally important decision had been taken which would guarantee Afghanistan’s neutrality until the Soviet invasion of 1979.
The Jirgah has traditionally been an institute of primary importance in the Pathan tribal areas of Pakistan and the Pashtun areas of Afghanistan. Although, traditionally, it gathered only Pashtun tribal elders, in modern times it has been extended also to include representatives of all the other areas.
It can be argued, as, indeed it has been argued, that this form of representation is much more suited to the Afghan political reality than a western-style Parliament, no matter how correct the electoral process. Afghanistan, as, indeed, Pakistan’s North-West, is, basically, a tribal society and peaceful coexistence among the tribes cannot be guaranteed by political processes which do not take this reality into account.
With the passage of time, the term “democracy” has acquired a rather dogmatic aspect, and is associated with certain particular rituals which have evolved, in the course of centuries, in some western societies, and which have then been applied, with success, also outside Europe and North America. An analysis, even a superficial one, of local interpretations of democracy would be completely out of context in an attempt to examine the Afghan situation, which is of grave and understandable concern, but serious thought ought to be given on how it would be possible to reconcile the need for stability in such a volatile and strategically important area with social and political realities which long predate the current insurgency, and all this without further eroding basic liberties.
It is, of course, probable that the Jirgah called by president Karzai will not have immediate, appreciable repercussions in the desired direction, mainly because, rightly or wrongly, the President no longer has the massive backing of the Afghan people, not even in his own tribal area. At the same time, his support among the leading international actors in Afghanistan has also sensibly declined. These circumstances, unfortunately, lend credibility to the accusations that this Jirgah is rigged and that it has been packed with Karzai supporters, thereby depriving it of the dignity essential to its success.
A future scenario could, however, be envisaged in which enhanced local autonomy would allow the application of “our” democratic rules in Towns and Provinces ready freely to choose such a solution (Herat comes to mind), while others could choose more traditional methods of local rule. The central Government, instead, with a role more of guidance and coordination rather than dominance or rule, would be more in tune with the traditions of the land. This arrangement has worked in the past, and could be an indication – with the necessary variations – of a way forward.
The calling of Jirgahs, and their composition and competences should not be left to the arbitrary will of the Head of State, but rather be regulated in a new, bold and imaginative attempt to reconcile respected and valid Afghan traditions to the country’s aspirations to be part of the modern family of nations.
Of course, the principal obstacle to any durable, credible negotiated settlement remains the massive and bellicose foreign military presence, whose support of the government is distasteful to many strata of Afghan opinion. The possibility of solutions along the lines suggested by the Jirgah would be greatly enhanced if agreements in that sense would coincide with a publicized, credible and accepted timetable for the withdrawal of the bulk of foreign troops.
As things stand, there are few alternative suitable solutions, and recourse to the Jirgah as a convincing instrument of negotiation should not be discarded..
The Central Asian Quandary
Rome, June 22 2010
The Central Asia quandary
In a recent article, published last April (See “Open Democracy”, April 27), I attempted to draw attention to a situation which, by and large, had been ignored by the mainstream media, i.e. that the former Soviet Republics of Central Asia, far from being havens of security, were actually more like volcanoes, once dormant and now smouldering and that, as a consequence, the then incipient troubles in Kirghizstan should not be viewed as an isolated episode but as part of a more general, and somewhat troubling, picture.
The rapid and dramatic – though by no means unexpected – escalation of the violence in Kirgizstan is forcing other players in the area (particularly Russia and Uzbekistan) if not to take action, at least publicly to assume a position. This is something they studiously avoided at the onset of the Kirghiz crisis.
For their part “Western” Governments, and with them the world’s mainstream media, have turned a blind eye to events – and potential developments – in Central Asia, and even the recent anniversary of the massacre of civilians in Andijan (Uzbekistan) by Government troops has been largely disregarded.
Such indifference is no longer really possible. The timing of the disclosure of the recent “discovery” (in reality known or suspected for some time) of mineral riches in remote frontier regions of Afghanistan adds an intriguing tassel to a scenario which, never simple, is becoming ever more complex.
The increasingly dangerous situation in Central Asia can perhaps be better understood by considering some basic facts which, then must be pieced together and properly analysed both from a political and an historical point of view.
The formal collapse of the Soviet Union caused less turmoil and bloodshed in Central Asia than would have been expected. With the exception of Tajikistan, which followed a more complex path, the remaining four republics remained more or less stagnant for many years, and even the unexpected demise of Turkmenistan’s “Turkmenbashi”, the object of an absolutely ludicrous personality cult, at first viewed with some concern (or some hope), caused scarcely a ripple.
In spite of growing human rights violations, these four republics are normally considered as valuable and, above all, reliable allies principally because their apparent internal calm and economic progress tend to lull outside observers into a mistaken sense of confidence and security.
When the extremely violent Andijan incidents broke out, the “West”, which by now relied on Uzbekistan in its Afghan military effort, after some hesitation and extremely mild remonstrations, accepted the Uzbek claim that the uprising had been the work of Islamic fundamentalist extremists. The fact that there may well have been some truth in a fundamentalist presence actually enhances the potential danger of the situation and also explains Uzbekistan’s reluctance to accept the massive influx of Uzbek refugees fleeing from the violence in Kirghizstan.
These regimes give an illusion of ruthless strength and lasting stability. This impression, however, covers a fragile and volatile reality, a weakness enhanced by the passage of time with the ageing Nomenklatura obviously on its way out. Historical reality has shown that nepotism and cronyism do not necessarily guarantee continuity, and while the death of one dictator (Turkmenistan) brought no change, it is difficult to imagine what the consequences will be of, for example, Islam Karimov’s eventual departure from the Uzbek scene.
There is, therefore a potential for chaos and uncertainty on the very border with Afghanistan. In ordinary circumstances this would be a situation which all interested parties and nearby powers would try to neutralise and bring under control, but the timing of the announcement of the “discovery” of “a trillion Dollars worth” of valuable minerals in the very regions of Afghanistan closest to this potential new area of conflict could bring about a change of attitude in all the parties concerned. The existence of these mineral deposits have been an open secret, but the official disclosure - possibly decided for an eventual justification of a prolonged Western military presence in Afghanistan - means that, from now on, “the gloves are off”, and even Iran – which has kept its distance from the Afghan conflict - could display an understandable interest.
Of course, no exploitation or even deeper exploration of the area will be possible unless the country and the region are pacified, and this could mean an intensification of the war effort by the sides engaged in the conflict, and a hand in muddying the waters on the part of those who would prefer not to see such riches fall exclusively into Western (i.e. American) hands. The Russians, in spite of having been badly burned in Afghanistan, have always considered that country as part of their sphere of influence (shades of the “Great Game”), and the Chinese have been quietly enhancing their presence in the area.
The real losers will most probably be the Afghan people.
Carlo Ungaro
Via Campagnano 51
00060 Sacrofano (Italy)
+39 06 9086098
+39 320 778 3160
carloungaro@gmail.com
(The author is a former – now retired – senior Italian diplomatic officer. He has spent twenty years in Central Asia – also as Italy’s first Ambassador to Uzbekistan – sixteen of which in Afghanistan)
The Central Asia quandary
In a recent article, published last April (See “Open Democracy”, April 27), I attempted to draw attention to a situation which, by and large, had been ignored by the mainstream media, i.e. that the former Soviet Republics of Central Asia, far from being havens of security, were actually more like volcanoes, once dormant and now smouldering and that, as a consequence, the then incipient troubles in Kirghizstan should not be viewed as an isolated episode but as part of a more general, and somewhat troubling, picture.
The rapid and dramatic – though by no means unexpected – escalation of the violence in Kirgizstan is forcing other players in the area (particularly Russia and Uzbekistan) if not to take action, at least publicly to assume a position. This is something they studiously avoided at the onset of the Kirghiz crisis.
For their part “Western” Governments, and with them the world’s mainstream media, have turned a blind eye to events – and potential developments – in Central Asia, and even the recent anniversary of the massacre of civilians in Andijan (Uzbekistan) by Government troops has been largely disregarded.
Such indifference is no longer really possible. The timing of the disclosure of the recent “discovery” (in reality known or suspected for some time) of mineral riches in remote frontier regions of Afghanistan adds an intriguing tassel to a scenario which, never simple, is becoming ever more complex.
The increasingly dangerous situation in Central Asia can perhaps be better understood by considering some basic facts which, then must be pieced together and properly analysed both from a political and an historical point of view.
The formal collapse of the Soviet Union caused less turmoil and bloodshed in Central Asia than would have been expected. With the exception of Tajikistan, which followed a more complex path, the remaining four republics remained more or less stagnant for many years, and even the unexpected demise of Turkmenistan’s “Turkmenbashi”, the object of an absolutely ludicrous personality cult, at first viewed with some concern (or some hope), caused scarcely a ripple.
In spite of growing human rights violations, these four republics are normally considered as valuable and, above all, reliable allies principally because their apparent internal calm and economic progress tend to lull outside observers into a mistaken sense of confidence and security.
When the extremely violent Andijan incidents broke out, the “West”, which by now relied on Uzbekistan in its Afghan military effort, after some hesitation and extremely mild remonstrations, accepted the Uzbek claim that the uprising had been the work of Islamic fundamentalist extremists. The fact that there may well have been some truth in a fundamentalist presence actually enhances the potential danger of the situation and also explains Uzbekistan’s reluctance to accept the massive influx of Uzbek refugees fleeing from the violence in Kirghizstan.
These regimes give an illusion of ruthless strength and lasting stability. This impression, however, covers a fragile and volatile reality, a weakness enhanced by the passage of time with the ageing Nomenklatura obviously on its way out. Historical reality has shown that nepotism and cronyism do not necessarily guarantee continuity, and while the death of one dictator (Turkmenistan) brought no change, it is difficult to imagine what the consequences will be of, for example, Islam Karimov’s eventual departure from the Uzbek scene.
There is, therefore a potential for chaos and uncertainty on the very border with Afghanistan. In ordinary circumstances this would be a situation which all interested parties and nearby powers would try to neutralise and bring under control, but the timing of the announcement of the “discovery” of “a trillion Dollars worth” of valuable minerals in the very regions of Afghanistan closest to this potential new area of conflict could bring about a change of attitude in all the parties concerned. The existence of these mineral deposits have been an open secret, but the official disclosure - possibly decided for an eventual justification of a prolonged Western military presence in Afghanistan - means that, from now on, “the gloves are off”, and even Iran – which has kept its distance from the Afghan conflict - could display an understandable interest.
Of course, no exploitation or even deeper exploration of the area will be possible unless the country and the region are pacified, and this could mean an intensification of the war effort by the sides engaged in the conflict, and a hand in muddying the waters on the part of those who would prefer not to see such riches fall exclusively into Western (i.e. American) hands. The Russians, in spite of having been badly burned in Afghanistan, have always considered that country as part of their sphere of influence (shades of the “Great Game”), and the Chinese have been quietly enhancing their presence in the area.
The real losers will most probably be the Afghan people.
Carlo Ungaro
Via Campagnano 51
00060 Sacrofano (Italy)
+39 06 9086098
+39 320 778 3160
carloungaro@gmail.com
(The author is a former – now retired – senior Italian diplomatic officer. He has spent twenty years in Central Asia – also as Italy’s first Ambassador to Uzbekistan – sixteen of which in Afghanistan)
giovedì 20 maggio 2010
THE AFGHAN LABYRINTH
An "exit strategy" is little use in the Afghan labyrinth
Carlo Ungaro, 19 May 2010
Subjects:
· Taliban insurgency in Pakistan and Afghanistan
We need to break old assumptions if Afghanistan and Pakistan are to be secured, argues Carlo Ungaro
About the author
Carlo Ungaro is a former Italian diplomat. He spent sixteen years serving in Afghanistan. Between 2000 and 2007, he served as political adviser to the Italian led ISAF forces in Herat.
The term “exit strategy” often signifies a tacit admission of basic mistakes committed upon entering a conflict. This is particularly true in the case of Afghanistan where an analogy can be drawn with the story of Theseus and his hunt for the Minotaur in the Labyrinth. In fact, just like the initial occupation of Afghanistan, entering the Labyrinth did not pose major problems for Theseus, but his twenty-first century’s successors – the NATO forces – although they quickly found the Minotaur’s lair, discovered that the beast had fled and that, lacking Ariadne’s clew, they remained trapped in the impenetrable maze of Afghan political and social reality.It would be useless, at this stage, to indulge in recrimination and to lament the fact that, at the time of the invasion and in its immediate aftermath, advice was apparently not sought, or perhaps it was obtained and not heeded, from those who could have foretold many of the problems, which so often have seemed to come as a surprise both to the NATO leadership and to many political commentators. It would be just as futile for those Cassandra's – among whom I include myself – to come out in triumphant “I told you so!” statements. The situation is far too serious to allow these attitudes.It was clear, already many months back, that a totally fresh assessment was needed, and that the reiteration of NATO’s oft intoned mantra’s would not bring the problem any closer to a solution. It appears, however, that the reluctance to “learn lessons” persists, and that NATO is preparing for another military “triumph”, this time with a dauntingly ambitious objective, Kandahar, a city of significant importance which, occupied countless times but never really conquered, has had an important role in Afghan history throughout the centuries. Granted that, with the massive armament and logistic abundance at their disposal, the NATO forces will manage to gain at least apparent control of Kandahar, would that in any way signify that final victory is at hand? And has a lucid and unequivocal idea ever been expressed as to what would really be meant by “victory”, other than the avoidance of obvious defeat?Clearly, a solution has to be sought somewhere between the alternative of precipitous withdrawal and dogged resistance. The only question that insistently comes to mind is whether there is still time for a radical rethinking process aimed both at halting, or at least diminishing the bloodshed, and at the search for a long term solution not conditioned by past prejudices.One of the eminently foreseeable – but apparently unforeseen – consequences of the military action in Afghanistan has been the extension of the conflict into Pakistan, a development which will leave deep scars, no matter what the outcome. This, in reality, and not the military conflict in Afghanistan itself, is the principal obstacle to any real and lasting solution. The fact is that the boundary existing between Afghanistan and Pakistan’s North West (the “Durand Line”) has never been recognised by any Afghan government since the creation of Pakistan, nor was it ever accepted by the tribal populations on the Pakistani side of the border. This situation, which should have been addressed with energy and decision as soon as the inevitability of Pakistan’s involvement became apparent, was instead allowed to fester, creating an area of permanent conflict, which shall remain so until reality is recognised. This is the key on which all future attempts competently to address the Afghan quandary will have to be based. As past experiences have shown, and the Soviet debacle comes readily to mind as the most recent example, throwing in more troops and vast additional sums of money destined for development projects would be a tragic waste, unless the underlying political problems are taken into unprejudiced consideration.A process of radical revision of war aims and future scenarios should be undertaken with great urgency. The opening phases should preferably take place in a third country, possibly neutral, and should begin by the bold eradication of two fundamentally flawed beliefs which doggedly persist in all present-day evaluations:1. That Afghanistan and Pakistan can be treated as two separate problems and that, after a militarily imposed “normalisation”, they will be able to coexist within the present geo-political framework;2. That Afghanistan can ever be ruled efficiently as a monolithic entity from a government – whether autocratic or “democratic” – situated in Kabul.These are complex and potentially dangerous issues, but until they are taken into careful consideration there will be no hope for any kind of satisfactory settlement.This may seem un-realistic, and our political leaders will prefer to continue in their belief that the repetition of well-tried platitudes can bring about the solution of problems.They ought to cast their minds back about twenty years and try to remember how many greatly respected personalities from the United States and Europe would come away from Belgrade swearing solemn oaths on the absolute inviolability of Yugoslavia's territorial integrity. It is also essential to recall where this kind of obstinacy finally led.It is furthermore important to consider that the visible growing war-weariness in the public opinion of many NATO allies, and the need for democratic Governments at least partially to heed the feelings of their electorate, add poignancy and urgency to the quest for a valid new approach.
Carlo Ungaro, 19 May 2010
Subjects:
· Taliban insurgency in Pakistan and Afghanistan
We need to break old assumptions if Afghanistan and Pakistan are to be secured, argues Carlo Ungaro
About the author
Carlo Ungaro is a former Italian diplomat. He spent sixteen years serving in Afghanistan. Between 2000 and 2007, he served as political adviser to the Italian led ISAF forces in Herat.
The term “exit strategy” often signifies a tacit admission of basic mistakes committed upon entering a conflict. This is particularly true in the case of Afghanistan where an analogy can be drawn with the story of Theseus and his hunt for the Minotaur in the Labyrinth. In fact, just like the initial occupation of Afghanistan, entering the Labyrinth did not pose major problems for Theseus, but his twenty-first century’s successors – the NATO forces – although they quickly found the Minotaur’s lair, discovered that the beast had fled and that, lacking Ariadne’s clew, they remained trapped in the impenetrable maze of Afghan political and social reality.It would be useless, at this stage, to indulge in recrimination and to lament the fact that, at the time of the invasion and in its immediate aftermath, advice was apparently not sought, or perhaps it was obtained and not heeded, from those who could have foretold many of the problems, which so often have seemed to come as a surprise both to the NATO leadership and to many political commentators. It would be just as futile for those Cassandra's – among whom I include myself – to come out in triumphant “I told you so!” statements. The situation is far too serious to allow these attitudes.It was clear, already many months back, that a totally fresh assessment was needed, and that the reiteration of NATO’s oft intoned mantra’s would not bring the problem any closer to a solution. It appears, however, that the reluctance to “learn lessons” persists, and that NATO is preparing for another military “triumph”, this time with a dauntingly ambitious objective, Kandahar, a city of significant importance which, occupied countless times but never really conquered, has had an important role in Afghan history throughout the centuries. Granted that, with the massive armament and logistic abundance at their disposal, the NATO forces will manage to gain at least apparent control of Kandahar, would that in any way signify that final victory is at hand? And has a lucid and unequivocal idea ever been expressed as to what would really be meant by “victory”, other than the avoidance of obvious defeat?Clearly, a solution has to be sought somewhere between the alternative of precipitous withdrawal and dogged resistance. The only question that insistently comes to mind is whether there is still time for a radical rethinking process aimed both at halting, or at least diminishing the bloodshed, and at the search for a long term solution not conditioned by past prejudices.One of the eminently foreseeable – but apparently unforeseen – consequences of the military action in Afghanistan has been the extension of the conflict into Pakistan, a development which will leave deep scars, no matter what the outcome. This, in reality, and not the military conflict in Afghanistan itself, is the principal obstacle to any real and lasting solution. The fact is that the boundary existing between Afghanistan and Pakistan’s North West (the “Durand Line”) has never been recognised by any Afghan government since the creation of Pakistan, nor was it ever accepted by the tribal populations on the Pakistani side of the border. This situation, which should have been addressed with energy and decision as soon as the inevitability of Pakistan’s involvement became apparent, was instead allowed to fester, creating an area of permanent conflict, which shall remain so until reality is recognised. This is the key on which all future attempts competently to address the Afghan quandary will have to be based. As past experiences have shown, and the Soviet debacle comes readily to mind as the most recent example, throwing in more troops and vast additional sums of money destined for development projects would be a tragic waste, unless the underlying political problems are taken into unprejudiced consideration.A process of radical revision of war aims and future scenarios should be undertaken with great urgency. The opening phases should preferably take place in a third country, possibly neutral, and should begin by the bold eradication of two fundamentally flawed beliefs which doggedly persist in all present-day evaluations:1. That Afghanistan and Pakistan can be treated as two separate problems and that, after a militarily imposed “normalisation”, they will be able to coexist within the present geo-political framework;2. That Afghanistan can ever be ruled efficiently as a monolithic entity from a government – whether autocratic or “democratic” – situated in Kabul.These are complex and potentially dangerous issues, but until they are taken into careful consideration there will be no hope for any kind of satisfactory settlement.This may seem un-realistic, and our political leaders will prefer to continue in their belief that the repetition of well-tried platitudes can bring about the solution of problems.They ought to cast their minds back about twenty years and try to remember how many greatly respected personalities from the United States and Europe would come away from Belgrade swearing solemn oaths on the absolute inviolability of Yugoslavia's territorial integrity. It is also essential to recall where this kind of obstinacy finally led.It is furthermore important to consider that the visible growing war-weariness in the public opinion of many NATO allies, and the need for democratic Governments at least partially to heed the feelings of their electorate, add poignancy and urgency to the quest for a valid new approach.
martedì 4 maggio 2010
THE POPE AND ITALY
THE POPE AND ITALY
The recent statements by the Vatican, recognising the criminal behaviour of the reverend Marcial Maciel Degollado, founder of the Legionnaires of Christ, could constitute an important step in a new approach by the Roman Catholic Church, in spite of some ambiguity in their content. This circumstance, coupled with the fact that there have been fewer and fewer items in the news about the recent Vatican paedophilia scandal should not, in however, generate the idea that the issue has blown over. The effects are still deeply felt in The United States and in Northern Europe, where the Catholic Church’s crisis is palpable. Much less so in Italy, which, having the Vatican Enclave on its soil, would theoretically appear to be the most directly and intimately involved.
The Vatican, it has to be said, is not a creation of Mussolini, as some would have it, but a long lasting historical reality, which has for many centuries conditioned life in Italy.
It has therefore been interesting to note, in these past weeks, how rare and feeble Italian reactions to the Vatican paedophilia scandal have been. When compared to the often indignant response given by Roman Catholics across Europe and in the Americas, it would seem that Italians have, by and large, viewed the situation with indifference, and the TV channels, both public and private, have actually been totally and uncritically supportive of the Pope and the Holy See, as, indeed, have the rare statements issued by political personalities both of the Right and of the Left.
In their news programmes and commentary, the public Radio and TV, which ought to be completely secular, have absolutely and unquestioningly accepted all the explanations issued by the Vatican. Thus the majority of Italians – culturally isolated because of a pernicious form of monolingual obstinacy, and with almost all of their information obtained through the National TV – are convinced, for example, that a small group of Jewish Law firms in the United States have inspired all this “idle gossip” for the double purpose of discrediting the Catholic Church – which, in Italian eyes, is the only “truly” Christian Church – and milking the “alleged victims” of lots of money in legal fees. They are told, as well, and appear to believe that the ordinary people of the world are all in sympathy with the “Holy Father”, as the public news channels insist on calling him, even having the speakers modulate their tone of voice upon mentioning his August name.
The Vatican statement on the reverend Maciel Degollado, for example, received no comment at all in public radio and television broadcasts, while much space was dedicated to the opening of the exhibition of the Shroud of Turin, with pious references being made to its miraculous origin, but no mention of any sceptical attitudes in the scientific community.
And yet, walking the streets of the Holy City (Rome), a vast number of empty – albeit beautiful – Churches meet the eye, and visible signs of devotion (e.g. the penance of the Holy steps at San Giovanni) are quite rare. Even the crowds in St. Peter’s square at the Papal benediction are, to a large extent foreign or, at least, from other parts of Italy (usually the North), with, of course, an appreciable number of tourists attracted by a spectacle so incongruous for the Twenty-first century.
Very few in Italy read Holy Scripture – the idea being that this is precisely what Priests are for – and even devout Church-goers show an appalling doctrinal and cultural ignorance on the meaning of most devotional rites and are likely to respond with indignant disbelief if told that Jesus was actually Jewish.
All the more surprising, then, to realise what a tremendous power the Vatican and the clergy wield in Italian politics. The fact is that any pronouncement by the Bishops on political matters have tangible effects on the Nation’s political and social life, as was shown in the recent local elections, in which some pointed statements about the “new” (for Italy) abortion pill is thought to have secured the victory of some key candidates, known to be obedient and to toe the line of Catholic orthodoxy, at least in their public postures and statements.
It could be argued that also in the United States religion has an important role in public life, but there on the one hand, no political candidates casts doubt on the firm tenet of separation between Church (any Church) and State, while on the other it is clear that Americans constitute one of the most deeply religious communities in the predominantly Christian world. Neither of these considerations apply in the Italian political and social scene, where the issue of exposing the Crucifix in public buildings (including schools and Tribunals) was treated with incredible emotion by politicians to the point that a Government Minister was seen on public TV, brandishing a Crucifix like an exorcist and issuing death threats to all those who oppose its continued exposition.
This is by no means a new or thoroughly modern situation. In many phases of their history Italians have mingled a show of affectionate pride in being, as it were, the custodians of the Holy See on their territory, with an open hostility which has also ended in episodes of assassination and rebellion.
There was a moment, in the Nineteenth Century, during the battles for Italy’s independence, when secular hostility to the Pope and the Church seemed to gain the upper hand (one can cite the short-lived “Roman Republic” in 1848 and, of course, the conquest of Rome by the Italian State in 1870), but after World War II, with the Catholic Party (“Christian Democrats”) seen as the only credible democratic alternative to Communism – or so, of course, their slogan ran – the take-over by the Church was relatively easy and has resulted in the present equivocal situation which has been further complicated by the fact that the collapse of the Christian Democrats has caused a veritable Diaspora of Catholic politicians who have joined almost every Party on the rather broad Italian political spectrum.
The image therefore emerges of a population with an essentially “pagan” view of Religion, generally limited to an almost Oedipal adoration of the Virgin as well as deep veneration for a selected number of Saints who frequently, sometimes even punctually, come across with the required miracles. It is therefore all the more remarkable that this same population should appear so totally subservient to a Church which is perhaps the most dogmatic religious body on Earth. This is a paradox which defies explanation, and which could be shrugged off with wry amusement, if it weren’t for the thoroughly negative effect Vatican interference has had and keeps having on Italy’s social and political structure, seriously hindering progress, even in Science and Medicine, whenever proposed innovations are deemed contrary to the strictest tenets of the Roman Catholic Catechism.
Italy is going through a crisis which could be almost defined as existential, with creeping forms of occult, but ever more evident, neo-fascist attitudes making frequent appearances.
In this context the growing influence of the Church in public affairs, as evidenced by the behaviour of the Public information services, seems like a justified cause for alarm.
(The Author is a retired senior Italian diplomatic officer)
The recent statements by the Vatican, recognising the criminal behaviour of the reverend Marcial Maciel Degollado, founder of the Legionnaires of Christ, could constitute an important step in a new approach by the Roman Catholic Church, in spite of some ambiguity in their content. This circumstance, coupled with the fact that there have been fewer and fewer items in the news about the recent Vatican paedophilia scandal should not, in however, generate the idea that the issue has blown over. The effects are still deeply felt in The United States and in Northern Europe, where the Catholic Church’s crisis is palpable. Much less so in Italy, which, having the Vatican Enclave on its soil, would theoretically appear to be the most directly and intimately involved.
The Vatican, it has to be said, is not a creation of Mussolini, as some would have it, but a long lasting historical reality, which has for many centuries conditioned life in Italy.
It has therefore been interesting to note, in these past weeks, how rare and feeble Italian reactions to the Vatican paedophilia scandal have been. When compared to the often indignant response given by Roman Catholics across Europe and in the Americas, it would seem that Italians have, by and large, viewed the situation with indifference, and the TV channels, both public and private, have actually been totally and uncritically supportive of the Pope and the Holy See, as, indeed, have the rare statements issued by political personalities both of the Right and of the Left.
In their news programmes and commentary, the public Radio and TV, which ought to be completely secular, have absolutely and unquestioningly accepted all the explanations issued by the Vatican. Thus the majority of Italians – culturally isolated because of a pernicious form of monolingual obstinacy, and with almost all of their information obtained through the National TV – are convinced, for example, that a small group of Jewish Law firms in the United States have inspired all this “idle gossip” for the double purpose of discrediting the Catholic Church – which, in Italian eyes, is the only “truly” Christian Church – and milking the “alleged victims” of lots of money in legal fees. They are told, as well, and appear to believe that the ordinary people of the world are all in sympathy with the “Holy Father”, as the public news channels insist on calling him, even having the speakers modulate their tone of voice upon mentioning his August name.
The Vatican statement on the reverend Maciel Degollado, for example, received no comment at all in public radio and television broadcasts, while much space was dedicated to the opening of the exhibition of the Shroud of Turin, with pious references being made to its miraculous origin, but no mention of any sceptical attitudes in the scientific community.
And yet, walking the streets of the Holy City (Rome), a vast number of empty – albeit beautiful – Churches meet the eye, and visible signs of devotion (e.g. the penance of the Holy steps at San Giovanni) are quite rare. Even the crowds in St. Peter’s square at the Papal benediction are, to a large extent foreign or, at least, from other parts of Italy (usually the North), with, of course, an appreciable number of tourists attracted by a spectacle so incongruous for the Twenty-first century.
Very few in Italy read Holy Scripture – the idea being that this is precisely what Priests are for – and even devout Church-goers show an appalling doctrinal and cultural ignorance on the meaning of most devotional rites and are likely to respond with indignant disbelief if told that Jesus was actually Jewish.
All the more surprising, then, to realise what a tremendous power the Vatican and the clergy wield in Italian politics. The fact is that any pronouncement by the Bishops on political matters have tangible effects on the Nation’s political and social life, as was shown in the recent local elections, in which some pointed statements about the “new” (for Italy) abortion pill is thought to have secured the victory of some key candidates, known to be obedient and to toe the line of Catholic orthodoxy, at least in their public postures and statements.
It could be argued that also in the United States religion has an important role in public life, but there on the one hand, no political candidates casts doubt on the firm tenet of separation between Church (any Church) and State, while on the other it is clear that Americans constitute one of the most deeply religious communities in the predominantly Christian world. Neither of these considerations apply in the Italian political and social scene, where the issue of exposing the Crucifix in public buildings (including schools and Tribunals) was treated with incredible emotion by politicians to the point that a Government Minister was seen on public TV, brandishing a Crucifix like an exorcist and issuing death threats to all those who oppose its continued exposition.
This is by no means a new or thoroughly modern situation. In many phases of their history Italians have mingled a show of affectionate pride in being, as it were, the custodians of the Holy See on their territory, with an open hostility which has also ended in episodes of assassination and rebellion.
There was a moment, in the Nineteenth Century, during the battles for Italy’s independence, when secular hostility to the Pope and the Church seemed to gain the upper hand (one can cite the short-lived “Roman Republic” in 1848 and, of course, the conquest of Rome by the Italian State in 1870), but after World War II, with the Catholic Party (“Christian Democrats”) seen as the only credible democratic alternative to Communism – or so, of course, their slogan ran – the take-over by the Church was relatively easy and has resulted in the present equivocal situation which has been further complicated by the fact that the collapse of the Christian Democrats has caused a veritable Diaspora of Catholic politicians who have joined almost every Party on the rather broad Italian political spectrum.
The image therefore emerges of a population with an essentially “pagan” view of Religion, generally limited to an almost Oedipal adoration of the Virgin as well as deep veneration for a selected number of Saints who frequently, sometimes even punctually, come across with the required miracles. It is therefore all the more remarkable that this same population should appear so totally subservient to a Church which is perhaps the most dogmatic religious body on Earth. This is a paradox which defies explanation, and which could be shrugged off with wry amusement, if it weren’t for the thoroughly negative effect Vatican interference has had and keeps having on Italy’s social and political structure, seriously hindering progress, even in Science and Medicine, whenever proposed innovations are deemed contrary to the strictest tenets of the Roman Catholic Catechism.
Italy is going through a crisis which could be almost defined as existential, with creeping forms of occult, but ever more evident, neo-fascist attitudes making frequent appearances.
In this context the growing influence of the Church in public affairs, as evidenced by the behaviour of the Public information services, seems like a justified cause for alarm.
(The Author is a retired senior Italian diplomatic officer)
CENTRAL ASIA - THE SMOULDERING VOLCANO
(This article was published on the site "Open Democracy" in April 2010)
Events in Kirghizstan seem to have crept up unexpectedly on an apparently unaware or inattentive international public opinion, principally and understandably focussed on other theatres, albeit in areas not all that distant, such as Afghanistan.
Since the collapse of the Soviet Union the former Central Asian Soviet Republics - with perhaps the exception of Tajikistan – have been rather superficially viewed as essentially calm. Occasional unrest has always seemed to be short-lived, and the very distance – both geographic and cultural – of these republics has kept them out of the western world’s attention.
Even long after the bygone days of the “great Game”, however, these Republics continue to have significant strategic importance either as producers of oil or natural gas, or for their geographic position which makes them essential partners in conveying these products to the West. These circumstances, in addition to the strategic military importance they have, especially in view of the Afghan conflict and the tensions between the West and Iran have been contributing factors in the endeavour, by the interested foreign Governments, to avoid the adoption of a hectoring attitude on delicate issues such as Democracy or the respect of Human Rights and political freedom.
The result of this rather cynical combination of indifference and covert encouragement has been the creation of an area which owes its stability principally to the inflexibility and virtual immovability of a leadership left over from the Soviet empire.
The only signs of movement have taken place in two of the smaller Republics, Kirghizstan and Turkmenistan, where the sudden death of a dictator whose behaviour could even have seemed comical in its extreme use of the personality cult, had given rise to some hopes of change, which, however have so far failed to take place. My feeling is that the very fact of their relatively small size, in terms of population, make it unlikely for the events there to have immediate far-reaching consequences, unless, of course, they would generate a spill-over effect in nearby Uzbekistan or Kazakhstan. At this time this is unlikely, because these two Republics, particularly the former, are very tightly run by a “nomenclatura” which has survived Soviet times and has flourished since, creating a sense of “Imperium in Imperio”, which, as things stand, appears totally secure, intangible and therefore, by our Western standards, “dependable”.
The question has been put as to whether the events in Bishkek were inspired, encouraged or even financed by outside influence. It is unlikely but not impossible, and some have seen a Russian hand in the events. It has to be clear, however that Russia, just like all the other nearby States, is not interested in destabilizing Kirghizstan, and if there was a Russian involvement it was probably aimed more simply to a regime change operation which, perhaps, got slightly out of control. Political turmoil and instability in those republics which some – with typical Eurocentric arrogance – insist on calling “the Stans”, is, at present in no-one’s interest. Not China, who has already a number of difficult and delicate border situations, certainly not Uzbekistan or Kazakhstan and, therefore, not even Russia, unless, of course there are splinter groups in the Russian services who still nurture imperial nostalgia.
This basically realistic overview, however, fails to take into account an inevitable process: the passage of time, and the resulting disappearance of these leaders from the scene: the nomenclatura is numerous and powerful, and these two aspects have held the key to the survival of these regimes, but it is also fast ageing, and has now been in power for a couple of decades. It is true that, especially through the wide, unscrupulous practice of nepotism, they feel that they have a reliable second generation waiting in the wings, but history tends to show that an inordinate trust in the products of nepotism can lead to disappointing results.
There are further reasons to fear a less than comforting future for these republics. On the one hand, of course, there is a growing population of political dissidents – who have shown their power in Kirgizstan and have been ruthlessly oppressed elsewhere, but in some of the Republics there are also signs of a growing and unyielding hostility on the part of Islamic “extremists”. Their presence, paradoxically, has actually been beneficial mainly because of the West’s instinctive reaction to this kind of threat, and the presence of these pockets of Islamic resistance has strengthened the case for support and encouragement of the repressive regimes in each of the former Soviet Central Asian Republics.
My experience in this part of the world makes me fear that we are dealing with a smouldering volcano, due to erupt in the not too distant future.
The uncertainty prevailing in Afghanistan, and, in spite of the continuous stream of official signs of optimism, in Pakistan should induce all the interested parties to take into careful consideration possible violent and destabilizing scenarios in the area under discussion: it is unrealistic to believe that the more or less benevolent neutrality of the Central Asian Republics can be counted on for an indefinite future.
This inevitably raises the question of how the Powers which are involved in the area can avoid being reduced to a role of passive spectators should events such as these take place. Even twenty years after the end of the Soviet Union, Russian interest and presence remain paramount, as, indeed, they were even in the days of the Tsarist Empire. It could, however be a grave error to think that, should the situation change radically, the defence of all the existing economic, political and strategic interests in any of the Republics could be entrusted to Russia, acting on its own. The danger does exist that the Russians would end up creating a false impression of “Law and Order” through military force placing then their own trusted allies at the head of Governments which would be, in every sense, puppet regimes. We cannot exclude that plans already exist in this sense and that a new “nomenclatura” is ready to emerge in case of severe trouble.
This, of course would not be an acceptable solution and could actually be the forerunner of grater tensions and violence.
It is my belief that - perhaps, for now, secretly and informally – the ground should be tested to ascertain to what extent Russian and “Western” interests coincide or diverge, and leverage should be put in place to persuade the Chinese to play a more visible role in the area. Perhaps, in lieu of “pre-emptive strikes”, a policy of “pre-emptive damage control” should be taken into consideration.
(The writer, a retired former Italian Diplomatic Officer, has spent about twenty years of his life in Central Asia – mainly in Afghanistan – and served as Italian Ambassador in Tashkent (Uzbekistan) between 1992 and 1995)
(This article was published on the site "Open Democracy" in April 2010)
Events in Kirghizstan seem to have crept up unexpectedly on an apparently unaware or inattentive international public opinion, principally and understandably focussed on other theatres, albeit in areas not all that distant, such as Afghanistan.
Since the collapse of the Soviet Union the former Central Asian Soviet Republics - with perhaps the exception of Tajikistan – have been rather superficially viewed as essentially calm. Occasional unrest has always seemed to be short-lived, and the very distance – both geographic and cultural – of these republics has kept them out of the western world’s attention.
Even long after the bygone days of the “great Game”, however, these Republics continue to have significant strategic importance either as producers of oil or natural gas, or for their geographic position which makes them essential partners in conveying these products to the West. These circumstances, in addition to the strategic military importance they have, especially in view of the Afghan conflict and the tensions between the West and Iran have been contributing factors in the endeavour, by the interested foreign Governments, to avoid the adoption of a hectoring attitude on delicate issues such as Democracy or the respect of Human Rights and political freedom.
The result of this rather cynical combination of indifference and covert encouragement has been the creation of an area which owes its stability principally to the inflexibility and virtual immovability of a leadership left over from the Soviet empire.
The only signs of movement have taken place in two of the smaller Republics, Kirghizstan and Turkmenistan, where the sudden death of a dictator whose behaviour could even have seemed comical in its extreme use of the personality cult, had given rise to some hopes of change, which, however have so far failed to take place. My feeling is that the very fact of their relatively small size, in terms of population, make it unlikely for the events there to have immediate far-reaching consequences, unless, of course, they would generate a spill-over effect in nearby Uzbekistan or Kazakhstan. At this time this is unlikely, because these two Republics, particularly the former, are very tightly run by a “nomenclatura” which has survived Soviet times and has flourished since, creating a sense of “Imperium in Imperio”, which, as things stand, appears totally secure, intangible and therefore, by our Western standards, “dependable”.
The question has been put as to whether the events in Bishkek were inspired, encouraged or even financed by outside influence. It is unlikely but not impossible, and some have seen a Russian hand in the events. It has to be clear, however that Russia, just like all the other nearby States, is not interested in destabilizing Kirghizstan, and if there was a Russian involvement it was probably aimed more simply to a regime change operation which, perhaps, got slightly out of control. Political turmoil and instability in those republics which some – with typical Eurocentric arrogance – insist on calling “the Stans”, is, at present in no-one’s interest. Not China, who has already a number of difficult and delicate border situations, certainly not Uzbekistan or Kazakhstan and, therefore, not even Russia, unless, of course there are splinter groups in the Russian services who still nurture imperial nostalgia.
This basically realistic overview, however, fails to take into account an inevitable process: the passage of time, and the resulting disappearance of these leaders from the scene: the nomenclatura is numerous and powerful, and these two aspects have held the key to the survival of these regimes, but it is also fast ageing, and has now been in power for a couple of decades. It is true that, especially through the wide, unscrupulous practice of nepotism, they feel that they have a reliable second generation waiting in the wings, but history tends to show that an inordinate trust in the products of nepotism can lead to disappointing results.
There are further reasons to fear a less than comforting future for these republics. On the one hand, of course, there is a growing population of political dissidents – who have shown their power in Kirgizstan and have been ruthlessly oppressed elsewhere, but in some of the Republics there are also signs of a growing and unyielding hostility on the part of Islamic “extremists”. Their presence, paradoxically, has actually been beneficial mainly because of the West’s instinctive reaction to this kind of threat, and the presence of these pockets of Islamic resistance has strengthened the case for support and encouragement of the repressive regimes in each of the former Soviet Central Asian Republics.
My experience in this part of the world makes me fear that we are dealing with a smouldering volcano, due to erupt in the not too distant future.
The uncertainty prevailing in Afghanistan, and, in spite of the continuous stream of official signs of optimism, in Pakistan should induce all the interested parties to take into careful consideration possible violent and destabilizing scenarios in the area under discussion: it is unrealistic to believe that the more or less benevolent neutrality of the Central Asian Republics can be counted on for an indefinite future.
This inevitably raises the question of how the Powers which are involved in the area can avoid being reduced to a role of passive spectators should events such as these take place. Even twenty years after the end of the Soviet Union, Russian interest and presence remain paramount, as, indeed, they were even in the days of the Tsarist Empire. It could, however be a grave error to think that, should the situation change radically, the defence of all the existing economic, political and strategic interests in any of the Republics could be entrusted to Russia, acting on its own. The danger does exist that the Russians would end up creating a false impression of “Law and Order” through military force placing then their own trusted allies at the head of Governments which would be, in every sense, puppet regimes. We cannot exclude that plans already exist in this sense and that a new “nomenclatura” is ready to emerge in case of severe trouble.
This, of course would not be an acceptable solution and could actually be the forerunner of grater tensions and violence.
It is my belief that - perhaps, for now, secretly and informally – the ground should be tested to ascertain to what extent Russian and “Western” interests coincide or diverge, and leverage should be put in place to persuade the Chinese to play a more visible role in the area. Perhaps, in lieu of “pre-emptive strikes”, a policy of “pre-emptive damage control” should be taken into consideration.
(The writer, a retired former Italian Diplomatic Officer, has spent about twenty years of his life in Central Asia – mainly in Afghanistan – and served as Italian Ambassador in Tashkent (Uzbekistan) between 1992 and 1995)
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