OpEds: The unconquerable gun mind fungus

MIKE INGLES

MIKE INGLES


MIKE INGLES

I watched some of Joe Scarborough this morning. He is doing what his handlers expect of him, he is trying to deflect responsibility of the mass-murder of children to video-game manufactures and Quentin Tarantino, citing studies done at this university and that university, dredging up all the nonsense discussed, ad nauseam, during other times of mass-murder in our country.  

It’s a watershed moment for us.

If the deaths of these children is not enough to stir true emotion (and a little guilt) in our hearts, and rescue the sanity of us acting in unison towards a common goal, then there is little chance that our society can “long endure.” Perhaps, Joe is right. Maybe we have been, collectively, so desensitized by movies and a culture of violence, that changing gun laws by itself will not solve the problem. But what he and his ilk fail to acknowledge is that stopping the proliferation of weapons is a necessary first step. The reason that we cannot resolve the problem is that clever lobbyist and Machiavellian gun-makers have financed not only favorable gun-laws, but financed media—magazines, television, radio—that warns people that the government is their enemy and officials want to disarm them and take away rights—inalienable rights—therefore they must hoard weapons to get ready for the next holocaust, and pay dues to the NRA to help finance a next generation of protectionist propaganda.

“Let me remind you that extremism in defense of liberty is no vice.”

Still watching Joe and his gang of numbnuts: They are reporting a poll that found that only 60% of us support banning assault weapons. So, 40% of us are so very infected with fear and hate and suspicions that they literally see this world through a different lens than I. It’s generational. Since Barry Goldwater uttered those famous words in 1964, that crazed minority in our country has proliferated, has grown disproportionally.  As it grew, we liberals laughed at them, not taking them seriously. Their sickness is contagious; they cannot recognize that the bullet-ridden bodies of 20 six-year-old children are cause-and-effect of their distorted beliefs.  Still a minority, they vote in Republican primaries where crazy thought processes gather form and are spewed back to a populace eager to read articles where their fears are manifested in glossy magazines and radio shows and Fox News. We all understand that, because of this, the minority moves ever further to the right, taking positions that are more and more extreme. Most are poorly educated folk and can be easily swayed by clever people supporting a false position. Much like Hitler and his media convinced the German rank-in-file that they had a serious problem with an industrious people; these folks are convinced that government is their industrious enemy [and] that the government is the cause of their problems.

Maybe not enough children have died. Perhaps, it will take some other catastrophe for us to come together. Deep inside, I know that those 40% are alien to me. They might as well be fungi from Mars. How do you negotiate with fungi? How do you establish laws with folks who aren’t living on the same planet?

I can’t see a peaceful end to this on-going debate. The next time some nut grabs an assault weapons and starts shooting up a mall or a theater or a school, I’ll die a little bit. And, those NRA folks will shake their heads and say—it’s a damned shame. But they won’t mean it. Not really. What they really think is that Quentin Tarantino caused all this, and silently clean their weapons.

MIKE INGLES fires his daily rational torpedoes from his den in Ohio.




And the winner is … Islamophobia

ARGO


Ben Affleck in Argo: ‘At the Golden Globes, there were gongs for a heroically bearded CIA spook saving hostages and American face in Iran.’ Photograph: Allstar/WARNER BROS. PICTURES/Sportsphoto Ltd./Allstar

The moral ambiguity of Homeland or Argo is a fitting tribute to the reality of US Middle East policy

Rachel Shabi
The Guardian, Monday 14 January 2013

America’s Middle East policy has been enthusiastically endorsed. Not at the UN or Arab League, however, but by the powerbrokers of Hollywood. At the Golden Globes, there were gongs for a heroically bearded CIA spook saving hostages and American face in Iran (the film Argo); a heroically struggling agent tracking down Bin Laden (Zero Dark Thirty) and heroically flawed CIA operatives protecting America from mindless, perpetual terror (TV series Homeland).

The three winners have all been sold as complex, nuanced productions that don’t shy away from hard truths about US foreign policy. And liberal audiences can’t get enough of them. Perhaps it’s because, alongside the odd bit of self-criticism, they are all so reassuringly insistent that, in an increasingly complicated world, America just keeps on doing the right thing. And even when it does the wrong thing – such as, I don’t know, torture and drone strikes and deadly invasions – it is to combat far greater evil, and therefore OK.

When I saw Argo in London with a Turkish friend, we were the only ones not clapping at the end. Instead, we were wondering why every Iranian in this horribly superior film was so angry and shouty. It was a tense, meticulously styled depiction of America’s giant, perpetual, wailing question mark over the Middle East: “Why do they hate us?” Iranians are so irked by the historically flimsy retelling of the hostage crisis that their government has commissioned its own version in response.

Zero Dark Thirty, another blanked-out, glossed-up portrayal of US policy, seems to imply that America’s use of torture – sorry, “enhanced interrogation” – is legitimate because it led to the capture of Osama bin Laden (something that John McCain and others have pointed out is not even true). Adding insult to moral bankruptcy, the movie has been cast as a feminist film, because it has a smart female lead. This is cinematic fraud: a device used to extort our approval.

Homeland was no better. It is the story of an American marine taken captive by a top al-Qaida terrorist who turns out, wouldn’t you know, to be Palestinian. Tortured while detained (though I’m guessing this would be bad torture, not the good kind used in Zero Dark Thirty), the marine turns to Islam and, coincidentally, to terror. Meanwhile, all the Arab and Muslim characters in Homeland – however successful, integrated, clever, whatever – are all somehow signed up to the global terror network. As Laila Al-Arian, a journalist and co-author of Collateral Damage: America’s War against Iraqi Civilians, puts it: “Viewers are left to believe that Muslims/Arabs participate in terrorist networks like Americans send holiday cards.” She describes this celebrated Golden Globe winner as “TV’s most Islamophobic show”.

When challenged, the creators of these travesties respond with pat dismissal: the director Kathryn Bigelow pointed out that Zero Dark Thirty is “just a movie”. Ben Affleck has spoken touchingly of his concern that Argo might be politicised.

But why would these renditions of US policy be seen in the Middle East as anything other than attempts to seize the moral high ground? It’s all supposed to be a massive stride forward in the portrayal of complexity, made to challenge American audience preconceptions – and a far cry from the bad old days depicted in Reel Bad Arabs, a documentary that shows how Hollywood caricatures Arabs as “belly dancers, billionaire sheikhs and bombers”, according to one reviewer.

But such slick, award-winning cinema isn’t about nuance, it’s just self-serving moral ambiguity – and in this sense it is a fitting cultural reflection of actual US policy in the Middle East.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Rachel Shabi has written extensively on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict and the Middle East. Her award-winning book, Not the Enemy: Israel’s Jews from Arab Lands, was published in 2009. She received the Anna Lindh Journalism Award for reporting across cultures in 2011 and was shortlisted for the Orwell Prize the same year. She tweets @rachshabi




The Myth of Human Progress

By Chris Hedges
Cross-posted from Truthdig

icarus-Beautiful_Foolish_Arms2300
Illustration by Mr. Fish

Clive Hamilton in his “Requiem for a Species: Why We Resist the Truth About Climate Change” describes a dark relief that comes from accepting that “catastrophic climate change is virtually certain.” This obliteration of “false hopes,” he says, requires an intellectual knowledge and an emotional knowledge. The first is attainable. The second, because it means that those we love, including our children, are almost certainly doomed to insecurity, misery and suffering within a few decades, if not a few years, is much harder to acquire. To emotionally accept impending disaster, to attain the gut-level understanding that the power elite will not respond rationally to the devastation of the ecosystem, is as difficult to accept as our own mortality. The most daunting existential struggle of our time is to ingest this awful truth — intellectually and emotionally — and continue to resist the forces that are destroying us.

The human species, led by white Europeans and Euro-Americans, has been on a 500-year-long planetwide rampage of conquering, plundering, looting, exploiting and polluting the Earth — as well as killing the indigenous communities that stood in the way. But the game is up. The technical and scientific forces that created a life of unparalleled luxury — as well as unrivaled military and economic power — for the industrial elites are the forces that now doom us. The mania for ceaseless economic expansion and exploitation has become a curse, a death sentence. But even as our economic and environmental systems unravel, after the hottest year in the contiguous 48 states since record keeping began 107 years ago, we lack the emotional and intellectual creativity to shut down the engine of global capitalism. We have bound ourselves to a doomsday machine that grinds forward, as the draft report of the National Climate Assessment and Development Advisory Committee illustrates.

Complex civilizations have a bad habit of destroying themselves. Anthropologists including Joseph Tainter in “The Collapse of Complex Societies,” Charles L. Redman in “Human Impact on Ancient Environments” and Ronald Wright in “A Short History of Progress” have laid out the familiar patterns that lead to systems breakdown. The difference this time is that when we go down, the whole planet will go with us. There will, with this final collapse, be no new lands left to exploit, no new civilizations to conquer, no new peoples to subjugate. The long struggle between the human species and the Earth will conclude with the remnants of the human species learning a painful lesson about unrestrained greed and self-worship.

“There is a pattern in the past of civilization after civilization wearing out its welcome from nature, overexploiting its environment, overexpanding, overpopulating,” Wright said when I reached him by phone at his home in British Columbia, Canada…

“They tend to collapse quite soon after they reach their period of greatest magnificence and prosperity. That pattern holds good for a lot of societies, among them the Romans, the ancient Maya and the Sumerians of what is now southern Iraq. There are many other examples, including smaller-scale societies such as Easter Island. The very things that cause societies to prosper in the short run, especially new ways to exploit the environment such as the invention of irrigation, lead to disaster in the long run because of unforeseen complications. This is what I called in ‘A Short History of Progress’ the ‘progress trap.’

“We have set in motion an industrial machine of such complexity and such dependence on expansion that we do not know how to make do with less or move to a steady state in terms of our demands on nature. We have failed to control human numbers. They have tripled in my lifetime. And the problem is made much worse by the widening gap between rich and poor, the upward concentration of wealth, which ensures there can never be enough to go around. The number of people in dire poverty today — about 2 billion — is greater than the world’s entire population in the early 1900s. That’s not progress.”

“If we continue to refuse to deal with things in an orderly and rational way, we will head into some sort of major catastrophe, sooner or later. If we are lucky it will be big enough to wake us up worldwide but not big enough to wipe us out. That is the best we can hope for. We must transcend our evolutionary history. We’re Ice Age hunters with a shave and a suit. We are not good long-term thinkers. We would much rather gorge ourselves on dead mammoths by driving a herd over a cliff than figure out how to conserve the herd so it can feed us and our children forever. That is the transition our civilization has to make. And we’re not doing that.”

Wright, who in his dystopian novel, “A Scientific Romance,” paints a picture of a future world devastated by human stupidity, cites “entrenched political and economic interests” and a failure of the human imagination as the two biggest impediments to radical change. And all of us who use fossil fuels, who sustain ourselves through the formal economy, he says, are at fault.

Modern capitalist societies, Wright argues in his book, “What Is America?: A Short History of the New World Order,” derive from European invaders’ plundering of the indigenous cultures in the Americas from the 16th to the 19th centuries, coupled with the use of African slaves as a workforce to replace the natives. The numbers of those natives fell by more than 90 percent because of smallpox and other plagues they hadn’t had before. The Spaniards did not conquer any of the major societies until smallpox had crippled them; in fact the Aztecs beat them the first time around.

If Europe had not been able to seize the gold of the Aztec and Inca civilizations;  if it had not been able to occupy the land and adopt highly productive New World crops for use on European farms, the growth of industrial society in Europe would have been much slower. Karl Marx and Adam Smith both pointed to the influx of wealth from the Americas as having made possible the Industrial Revolution and the start of modern capitalism. It was the rape of the Americas, Wright points out, that triggered the orgy of European expansion. The Industrial Revolution also equipped the Europeans with technologically advanced weapons systems, making further subjugation, plundering and expansion possible.

“The experience of a relatively easy 500 years of expansion and colonization, the constant taking over of new lands, led to the modern capitalist myth that you can expand forever,” Wright said…

“It is an absurd myth. We live on this planet. We can’t leave it and go somewhere else. We have to bring our economies and demands on nature within natural limits, but we have had a 500-year run where Europeans, Euro-Americans and other colonists have over-run the world and taken it over. This 500-year run made it not only seem easy but normal. We believe things will always get bigger and better. We have to understand that this long period of expansion and prosperity was an anomaly. It has rarely happened in history and will never happen again. We have to readjust our entire civilization to live in a finite world. But we are not doing it, because we are carrying far too much baggage, too many mythical versions of deliberately distorted history and a deeply ingrained feeling that what being modern is all about is having more. This is what anthropologists call an ideological pathology, a self-destructive belief that causes societies to crash and burn. These societies go on doing things that are really stupid because they can’t change their way of thinking. And that is where we are.”
And as the collapse becomes palpable, if human history is any guide, we — like past societies in distress — will retreat into what anthropologists call “crisis cults.” The powerlessness we will feel in the face of ecological and economic chaos will unleash further collective delusions, such as fundamentalist belief in a god or gods who will come back to earth and save us.

“Societies in collapse often fall prey to the belief that if certain rituals are performed all the bad stuff will go away,” Wright said…

“There are many examples of that throughout history. In the past these crisis cults took hold among people who had been colonized, attacked and slaughtered by outsiders, who had lost control of their lives. They see in these rituals the ability to bring back the past world, which they look at as a kind of paradise. They seek to return to the way things were. Crisis cults spread rapidly among Native American societies in the 19th century, when the buffalo and the Indians were being slaughtered by repeating rifles and finally machine guns. People came to believe, as happened in the  Ghost Dance, that if they did the right things the modern world that was intolerable–the barbed wire, the railways, the white man, the machine gun–would disappear.”
Wright says we all have the same, basic psychological hard wiring…

“It makes us quite bad at long-range planning and leads us to cling to irrational delusions when faced with a serious threat. Look at the extreme right’s belief that if government got out of the way, the lost paradise of the 1950s would return. Look at the way we are letting oil and gas exploration rip when we know that expanding the carbon economy is suicidal for our children and grandchildren. The results can already be felt. When it gets to the point where large parts of the Earth experience crop failure at the same time then we will have mass starvation and a breakdown in order. That is what lies ahead if we do not deal with climate change.”
According to Wright…

“If we fail in this great experiment, this experiment of apes becoming intelligent enough to take charge of their own destiny, nature will shrug and say it was fun for a while to let the apes run the laboratory, but in the end it was a bad idea.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Chris Hedges spent nearly two decades as a foreign correspondent in Central America, the Middle East, Africa and the Balkans. He has reported from more than 50 countries and has worked for The Christian Science Monitor, National Public Radio, The New York Times and other important venues. Noteworthy, his work currently does NOT generally appear in such venues.




Death of A Hero: The General, The Media Adulation And The Forgotten Victims

How the media create heroes for public consumption—hagiography at its best.

normanschwarzkopf


Loyal soldier of the US Empire. Too bad most people have yet to comprehend what a horrific job that is.

By David Cromwell, Co-founding Editor, Media Lens

One measure of a society’s honesty is what it says about its political and military leaders when they die. Are the deceased leader’s perceived virtues exalted, while any blemishes are airbrushed out of the picture? Recent media coverage following the death of General Norman “Stormin’ ” Schwarzkopf, the Allied military commander during the Persian Gulf War in 1991, is a case in point.

A glowing tribute to the general appeared in the Independent by Rupert Cornwell, the paper’s longstanding safe pair of hands on US politics. Cornwell revved up the rhetoric:

‘Not since the Second World War and its immediate aftermath, and Generals named Eisenhower, Patton and MacArthur, was there a US military hero like Norman Schwarzkopf. He had brains, self-confidence and swagger by the truckload. He gave quotes to die for. Most important of all, he was a winner.’

Cornwell quickly reached top gear:

‘The first Gulf war, in which Schwarzkopf commanded the 670,000-strong US-led coalition force that swept Saddam Hussein’s army from Kuwait in 1991 in a ground war lasting 100 hours, restored to the American military the self-belief, reputation and prestige that had been lost in the disaster of Vietnam a generation earlier. And for the first time in almost half a century a general had caught America’s national imagination.’

An obituary in the Daily Telegraph contined the theme, noting of the 1991 Gulf War:

‘It had been utterly one-sided. Schwarzkopf had expected between 10,000 and 20,000 casualties and was, by his own admission, profoundly surprised that only a few hundred Allied soldiers were killed in the campaign. When he made his victory speech he described the toll as “miraculous”.’

There was no mention of the not so ‘miraculous’ Iraq death toll (which we’ll come to below). But that’s par for the course.

Schwarzkopf’s autobiography, noted the Telegraph, was titled ‘It Doesn’t Take A Hero’. But he was a sensitive hero, as The Times took pains to point out:

‘He served in Vietnam, and came back a far more thoughtful soldier.’

and:

‘Not only had he endured the political anxieties of the Vietnam War but had also travelled widely and lived in the Middle East as a boy. Schwarzkopf was the first to perceive that his military plans must not upset the rulers of Saudi Arabia, from where the attack on Iraq was to be launched, the British, French or any other national member of the coalition, otherwise it would quickly begin to fall apart. (‘General H. Norman Schwarzkopf; Commander of coalition forces during the First Gulf War who was noted for his professionalism and his tactical and political awareness’, Obituary, The Times, December 29, 2012).

The Los Angeles Times stitched together a whole series of propaganda gems to maintain the mythology of the US as the good guys. Readers were told that ‘burly “Stormin’ Norman” came to define the nation’s renewed sense of military pride.’

The paper gave pride of place to warm words from former President George Bush Sr., as did much of the rest of the corporate media. Schwarzkopf, he said, was ‘a true American patriot and one of the great military leaders of his generation.’ The newspaper noted that Schwarzkopf saw the Vietnam War as a ‘cesspool’ in which ‘military commanders were more interested in promoting their careers than in winning the war.’ The implication was that if only the US had had more burly heroes in Vietnam, the US might have won that war!

President Obama was not to be outdone in the gushing praise-storm. ‘We’ve lost an American original’, the White House said in a statement. ‘Gen. Schwarzkopf stood tall for the country and Army he loved. Our prayers are with the Schwarzkopf family, who tonight can know that his legacy will endure in a nation that is more secure because of his patriotic service.’

The Guardian also fondly remembered the great man – ‘I’d like to think I’m a caring human being’- and provided a hagiographic gallery of heroic Schwarzkopf images on its website.

If all this glorification of a military commander had happened in the North Korean or the Soviet-era press, lavishly praising an ‘original’ who’d given years of ‘patriotic service’ in wars abroad, it would have rightly elicited scorn and ridicule amongst commentators here.

Destroying Iraq’s Life Support Systems

The US-led attack ‘to drive Saddam from Kuwait’ in the Gulf War began on January 16, 1991. French diplomat Eric Rouleau later observed that Iraqis:

‘had difficulty comprehending the Allied rationale for using air power to systematically destroy or cripple Iraqi infrastructure and industry: electric power stations (92 percent of installed capacity destroyed), refineries (80 percent of production capacity), petrochemical complexes, telecommunications centers (including 135 telephone networks), bridges (more than 100), roads, highways, railroads, hundreds of locomotives and boxcars full of goods, radio and television broadcasting stations, cement plants, and factories producing aluminum, textiles, electric cables, and medical supplies.’ (Eric Rouleau, ‘The View From France: America’s Unyielding Policy toward Iraq’, Foreign Affairs, Vol. 74, No. 1, January/February 1995).

Noam Chomsky noted that the massive assault on civilian infrastructure was ‘a form of biological warfare, having little relation to driving Iraq from Kuwait — rather, designed for long-term U.S. political ends.’ This was not so much war, ‘but state terrorism, on a colossal scale.’ (Noam Chomsky, ‘Deterring Democracy’, Vintage, 1992, p. 410).

Former US Attorney-General Ramsay Clark said that:

‘U.S. planes flew more than 109,000 sorties, raining 88,000 tons of bombs, the equivalent of seven Hiroshimas […] Iraq lost between 125,000 and 150,000 soldiers. The U.S. has said it lost 148 in combat, and of those, 37 were caused by friendly fire […] U.S. planes pounded troops in the Kuwaiti theater of operations and southern Iraq with carpetbombing, fuel-air explosives, and other illegal weaponry.’ Napalm bombs and cluster bombs were unleashed. (Ramsey Clark, ‘The Fire This Time: U.S. War Crimes in the Gulf’, Thunder’s Mouth, 1992).

Media reporting underpinned and amplified the military script that the Allied attack would rely on ‘surgical’ strikes and ‘smart’ bombs against ‘Saddam’s war machine’. John Pilger exposed the propaganda carried in the British press:

‘ “GO GET HIM BOYS,” said the London Daily Star on the day war broke out. The London Daily Mirror juxtaposed pictures of a soldier and an airman beneath the banner headline, “THE HEROES,” with a scowling Saddam Hussein, headlined “THE VILLAIN.” […] anything short of resolute military action was, like the Munich Agreement in 1938, the work of the “spineless appeasers” (said the London Sun) and “the give-sanctions-a-chance-brigade” (Daily Express).’ (John Pilger, ‘Hidden Agendas’, Vintage, 1998, p. 44).

Pilger added:

‘ “The world watched in awe,” reported the Daily Mirror, “as Stormin’ Norman played his “home video”—revealing how allied planes are using Star Wars technology to destroy vital Iraqi targets. Just like Luke Skywalker maneuvring his fighter into the heart of Darth Vader’s space complex, the US pilots zeroed into the very heart of Saddam Hussein’s Baghdad.” (Ibid., p. 45).

BBC News presented a suitably sober version of the same propaganda:

‘The BBC’s David Dimbleby spoke urgently about the “surgical” effect of the new bombs, which were known by the name “smart,” as if to endow them with human intelligence. As Greg Philo and Greg McLaughlin wrote in their review of the reporting of the war, the assumption that the “surgical” weapons ensured low civilian casualties freed journalists from their humanitarian “dilemma.”‘ (Ibid., p. 45).

Philo and McLaughlin noted:

‘Like two sports commentators, David Dimbleby and the BBC defence correspondent, David Shukman, were almost rapt with enthusiasm. […] They called for freeze-frames and replays and they highlighted “the action” on screen with computer “light-pens.” “This is the promised hi-tech war,” said Shukman. “Defence contractors for some time have been trying to convince everybody that hi-tech weapons can work…. Now, by isolating [the target], they are able to destroy [it]…without causing casualties among the civilian population around.'” (Quoted, Ibid., p. 45).

But as Ramsay Clark noted after the Gulf War:

‘The surgical strike myth was a cynical way to conceal the truth. The bombing was a deadly, calculated, and deeply immoral strategy to bring Iraq to its knees by destroying the essential facilities and support systems of the entire society. . . . The overall plan was described [by Washington Post reporter Barton Gellman] after interviews with several of the war’s top planners and extensive research into how targets were determined […]: “Many of the targets were chosen only secondarily to contribute to the military defeat of [Iraq]. . . . Military planners hoped the bombing would amplify the economic and psychological impact of international sanctions on Iraqi society. . . They deliberately did great harm to Iraq’s ability to support itself as an industrial society. . . .” Compounded by [United Nations] sanctions [maintained especially at the behest of Washington and London], the damage to life-support systems in Iraq killed more after the war than direct attacks did during the war. . .’ (Clark, op. cit.).

Eric Hoskins, a Canadian doctor and coordinator of a Harvard study team on Iraq, reported that the allied bombardment:

‘effectively terminated everything vital to human survival in Iraq – electricity, water, sewage systems, agriculture, industry and health care…Food warehouses, hospitals and markets were bombed. Power stations were repeatedly attacked until electricity supplies were at only 4 percent of prewar levels.’ Hoskins’ team asked themselves ‘if these children are not the most suffering child population on earth.’ (Quoted, Mark Curtis, ‘The Ambiguities Of Power: British Foreign Policy Since 1945’, Zed Books, 1995, pp.189-90).

The major international relief agencies reported that 1.8 million people had been made homeless, and Iraq’s electricity, water, sewage, communications, health, agriculture and industrial infrastructure had been ‘substantially destroyed’, producing ‘conditions for famine and epidemics.’ The Clark Commission concluded that the US-led assault violated the Geneva Convention of 1949 which expressly prohibits attacks on ‘objects indispensable to the survival of the civilian population, such as foodstuffs, agricultural areas…crops, livestock, drinking water installations and supplies and irrigation works,’ as well as ‘dams, dykes and electrical generating stations,’ without which there will be ‘consequent severe losses among the civilian population.’ (Pilger, op. cit., p. 53).

A UN team visiting Iraq immediately after the Gulf War summarised:

‘the recent conflict has wrought near-apocalyptic results upon the infrastructure…. Most means of modern life support have been destroyed or rendered tenuous…’ (Quoted, Howard Zinn, ‘A People’s History of the United States’, Perennial, 1999, p. 599).

The Flesh And Blood Of Collateral Damage

As for the war dead, Pilger observed that:

‘General Schwarzkopf’s policy was that Iraqi dead were not to be counted. One of his senior officers boasted, “This is the first war in modern times where every screwdriver, every nail is accounted for.” As for human beings, he added, “I don’t think anybody is going to be able to come up with an accurate count for the Iraqi dead.” In fact, Schwarzkopf did provide figures to Congress, indicating that at least 100,000 Iraqi soldiers had been killed. He offered no estimate of civilian deaths.’ (Pilger, op. cit., p. 51).

Indeed when Colin Powell, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, was asked about the number of Iraqis killed, he said: ‘It’s really not a number I’m terribly interested in.’

Among the number that didn’t ‘terribly interest’ Powell, or presumably Schwarzkopf, were the 400 people, possibly many more, who were incinerated in the Amariyah civilian bomb shelter in Baghdad when two bombs landed on it in the early morning hours of February 13, 1991. Many, perhaps most, of the dead were women and children.

Ramsay Clark recounts that:

‘Neighborhood residents heard screams as people tried to get out of the shelter. They screamed for four minutes. Then the second bomb hit, killing almost everybody. The screaming ceased. The U.S. public saw sanitized, heavily edited footage of the bombed shelter. But the Columbia Journalism Review reported in its May/June 1991 issue that much more graphic images were shown on news reports in Jordan and Baghdad […]. The Review obtained the footage via unedited C.N.N. feeds and Baghdad’s W.T.N., and described it as follows: “This reporter viewed the unedited Baghdad feeds […]. They showed scenes of incredible carnage. Nearly all the bodies were charred into blackness; in some cases the heat had been so great that entire limbs were burned off. Among the corpses were those of at least six babies and ten children, most of them so severely burned that their gender could not be determined. Rescue workers collapsed in grief.”‘ (Clark, op. cit.).

In 1995, Maggie O’ Kane had a moving piece in the Guardian about Sergeant Joe Queen from Bryson City, North Carolina. He had seen much of the war from inside a US armoured bulldozer:

‘His job was to bury the Iraqis alive in their trenches and then cover over the trenches real smooth so the rest of the Big Red One, as the First Armoured Mechanised Brigade is called, could come nice and easy behind him.

‘Joe Queen doesn’t know how many Iraqi troops he buried alive on the front line. But five years later, at his military base in Georgia, he remembers well how it worked:

‘”The sand was so soft that once the blade hits the sand it just caves in right on the sides, so we never did go back and forth. So you are travelling at five, six, seven miles an hour just moving along the trench . . . You don’t see him. You’re up there in the half hatch and you know what you got to do. You did it so much you could close your eyes and do it . . . I don’t think they had any idea because the look on their faces as we came through the berm was just a look of shock.” […] Military sources in Baghdad and Washington put the total number of Iraqis buried alive during the war as between one and two thousand.

‘”While I was retreating, I saw some of the soldiers trying to surrender, but they were buried. There were two kinds of bulldozers, real ones, actual ones, and also they had tanks and they put something like a bulldozer blade in front of them. Some of the soldiers were walking towards the troops holding their arms up to surrender and the tanks moved in and killed them. They dug a hole in the ground and then they buried the soldiers and levelled it.’ (Maggie O’Kane, ‘Bloodless Words Bloody War‘ [the original title as given in the Lexis-Nexis database], Guardian, December 16, 1995).

In December 2012, on the death of the war ‘hero’ General Schwarzkopf, the Guardian presumably felt it prudent not to refer back to its own journalist’s powerful reporting from 1995. If not prudence, then perhaps amnesia.

Patrick Sloyan of the US publication Newsday had also written about the mass slaughter of Iraqi soldiers in trenches:

‘The U.S. Army division that broke through Saddam Hussein’s defensive frontline used plows mounted on tanks and combat earthmovers to bury thousands of Iraqi soldiers — some still alive and firing their weapons — in more than 70 miles of trenches, according to U.S. Army officials… The unprecedented tactic has been hidden from public view… Not a single American was killed during the attack that made an Iraqi body count impossible…

‘Bradley Fighting Vehicles and Vulcan armored carriers straddled the trench lines and fired into the Iraqi soldiers as the tanks covered them with mounds of sand. “I came through right after the lead company,” [Col. Anthony] Moreno said. “What you saw was a bunch of buried trenches with peoples’ arms and things sticking out of them. . . .” [General Norman] Schwarzkopf’s staff has privately estimated that, from air and ground attacks, between 50,000 and 75,000 Iraqis were killed in their trenches. . . . Only one Iraqi tank round was fired at the attackers, Moreno said.’ (Patrick Sloyan, ‘Buried Alive: U.S. Tanks Used Plows To Kill Thousands In Gulf War Trenches’, Newsday, September 12, 1991).

As President George Bush, Sr. proudly proclaimed after the Gulf War:

‘The specter of Vietnam has been buried forever in the desert sands of the Arabian peninsula.’

A horribly appropriate turn of phrase in light of the mass desert-sand burial of live soldiers.

Many of the soldiers were conscripts from the Kurdish and Shia communities so cruelly persecuted by Saddam. These were the same people called upon by George Bush Sr., Prime Minister John Major and General Schwarzkopf to ‘take heart’ and ‘rise up in revolt’. (Pilger, op. cit., pp. 50-51). As well as Iraqi soldiers, the death toll for Iraqi civilians was truly horrific. Pilger notes that:

‘Shortly before Christmas 1991, the Medical Educational Trust in London published a comprehensive study of casualties. Up to a quarter of a million men, women and children were killed or died as a direct result of the American-led attack on Iraq. This confirmed American and French intelligence estimates of “in excess of 200,000 civilian deaths.”‘ (Ibid., pp. 52-53).

Using the Lexis-Nexis news database, we searched all UK press reports and obituaries about General Schwarzkopf and we could not find a single mention of the live burial of Iraqi soldiers by bulldozers. Or the deaths of several hundred civilians in the Amariyah shelter. Or the total death toll of Iraqis.

But these are matters we are trained not to be ‘terribly interested’ in. Instead, we are encouraged to focus on the positives of the Gulf War. As Zbigniew Brzezinski, former National Security Adviser for Jimmy Carter, gloated afterwards:

‘The benefits are undeniably impressive. First, a blatant act of aggression was rebuffed and punished…. Second, U.S. military power is henceforth likely to be taken more seriously… Third, the Middle East and Persian Gulf region is now clearly an American sphere of preponderance.’ (Zinn, op. cit., p. 599).

Very little of the sickening reality on the ground – all the incinerated men, women and children of the Amariyah shelter, the tens of thousands of sand-suffocated and slaughtered soldiers, the destruction of Iraq’s infrastructure, and the hidden agendas of Western power – somehow made it into the news reports and obituaries about that ‘burly hero’, General Norman “Stormin’ ” Schwarzkopf. That would be too difficult, too painful, too honest.




Zero Dark Thirty Is a Despicable Movie, Even if Bigelow and Boal Didn’t Intend It That Way

bigelowSittingPreliminary Note: Concerning Kathryn Bigelow’s Zero Dark Thirty (ZDT), a film we have criticized numerous times (just do a search of our database and you’ll easily find a bunch of splendid articles on the topic) we are happy to see that, at last, a growing number of influential critics in the mainstream media—like Daniel Froomkin (see below)—is denouncing this film for the artistic travesty it is.  Their main objection stems from ZDT’s sneaky endorsement of torture, the old “necessary evil” argument, and we couldn’t agree more. ZDT, fireworks and (plentiful) conceits aside, is a dishonest movie.  It deserves to receive fire. That said, we regret to see that none of these critics pays much attention to ZDT (and ARGO) as representatives of a new type of cinematic propaganda, the kind of propaganda suited to a late-stage capitalism, where the manipulation of the audience’s emotions has reached an incredibly sophisticated (and equivocal) level.  We think this angle deserves more exploration.  At some point perhaps it will come.  Meantime, will these negative reviews make a difference where it matters, in the language Hollywood moguls understand? We don’t know.  Maybe yes, more probably not.  ARGO and ZDT are being hailed as masterpieces by most critics.  (Argo already won Critics’ Choice Awards, Globe Award, etc.).  Still such films deserve to be excoriated, if only to piss in the parade of sycophants and film illiterates already elevating these vehicles to the stature of great cinema, which most certainly they are not.

Incidentally, while we’re hardly in the business of tooting our own horn, we can’t resist noting that it was The Greanville Post that published the first reviews blasting ZDT (back on Dec. 3), and ARGO (Oct. 9, 2012), for flying well below the moral radar. Both pieces were penned by TGP’s editor in chief Patrice Greanville.  In both cases Greanville also recommended a box-office boycott, a position I find reasonable and consistent with the vileness at the core of these films. Referring to ARGO, he argued, “There are films that simply should not be made, and this is clearly one of them. The historical context in which a work of mass communication is created and distributed should be taken into account by morally responsible artists. It rarely is…Argo is bad because it is a toxic social product. By raising still higher the probability of a horrendous war in the Gulf, by glorifying what Western intelligence agencies actually do in our name, Affleck and Clooney are not doing us any favors, and no amount of entertainment can justify such undertakings.” In his similarly scathing critique of ZDT he called director Kathryn Bigelow America’s own “Leni Riefenstahl.” He may have been a tad too generous. In any case, see what you think. You can read the reviews below. —Sean Lenihan, Assoc. Editor

ZERO DARK THIRTY—More “Patriotic” Offal from Hollywood: Bigelow Strikes Again

ARGO: Ben Affleck’s latest film may whitewash CIA history_

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Zero Dark Thirty Is a Despicable Movie, Even if Bigelow and Boal Didn’t Intend It That Way

Daniel Froomkin
I finally saw Zero Dark Thirty last night, which according to my film critic friends means that only now am I actually allowed to opine on it. (I don’t agree, having Tweeted up a storm about its evidently pro-torture ethos already.)

Since a lot has been said by now, here are just a few observations:

Torture is much more central to the movie even than I had been led to believe. Not only does the very first scene depict torture, but it does so partly in the name of character development for our gorgeous red-headed hero, showing how tough she is. Literally her first words in the movie are “I’m fine,” which “Maya” says after watching a thug agent savagely beat (and ultimately waterboard) an injured, starved and trussed-up detainee. “I’m fine”? Think about that.

Furthermore, in the movie, absolutely every bit of evidence that leads Maya to the courier who leads her to bin Laden is elicited through, after, and under threat of more torture. She tells the SEAL team near the end of the movie that she is sure of her information because it comes from “detainee reports.” Other agents repeatedly either demand better information from detainees or, later, mope about the loss of what they clearly consider the only effective technique to elicit information. You cannot take this movie at its word and conclude anything other than that torture was an essential step toward tracking bin Laden down. Which it wasn’t.

I asked myself as I watched the movie: So why, then, did director Kathryn Bigelow and screenwriter Mark Boal decide to make torture such a key element of the plot? There’s been much speculation, including that they were basically punked by the CIA, which still can’t come to terms with the horror of what it did. Some of us have accused them of essentially being pro-torture. Having now seen the movie and pondered it, I doubt Bigelow and Boal set out to make a pro-torture movie. I don’t think they even necessarily think they made a pro-torture movie. I think what happened was, in turning this story into a Hollywood movie, they had to change some facts around to make things work — in particular, to make the audience see its hero as an actual hero. For instance, Maya is obviously a composite: a totally understandable device to make the movie work better.

Here is what I suspect happened regarding torture: The filmmakers recognized that it was an important element of the 10+ year hunt for bin Laden, and that ignoring it completely wasn’t a good option. In reality, torture was a horribly depraved and failed element of that hunt, but once the filmmakers decided it needed to be in the movie — and therefore part of their hero’s adventures — they were in a bind. Could they portray it as not having worked? As just having been an exercise in unjustified and worthless brutality? Then the hero wouldn’t have been so sympathetic; the audience might even be turned off. Could they portray her as having been disgusted by it and protesting it? FBI agents did, in real life, but not CIA, and it would have complicated things. So they had to portray torture as working, just as a plot device. Hollywood heroes can be flawed, but they can’t be war-criminal flawed. So they made a totally pragmatic choice, not a moral one — at least in their mind.

Another question that puzzled me: Why did the filmmakers so clearly depart from reality in their depiction of waterboarding? In the movie, the de facto drowning of the detainee was brutal, but it was also almost spontaneous and improvised. In real life, waterboarding was clinical and methodical. Memos from Cheney’s lawyers described how many ounces per “pour.” They were measured and counted. (That’s how we know KSM got 183 pours.) The detainees were strapped into medical gurneys. There was medical staff in attendance. It was totally regimented and micromanaged by Washington. So why change that? Would that have made our hero even more culpable, going along with something so clearly premeditated and inhumane, rather than just brutal?

It’s a very long movie. A very, very long movie. A very much too long movie. And by the end, torture seems far away. By the third hour, the drama revolves around the tracking down of an unspeakably evil man, and I strongly suspect most members of the audience once they finally leave the theater will be left with the impression that torture was at most a regrettable part of an ultimately successful operation. There is no comeuppance for any of the torturers (that part is true to life). In fact, nobody in the movie even once expresses any doubt about torture or its efficacy.

Another disappointment about the negligent treatment of torture by the filmmakers is that it has created a missed opportunity to discuss the other disturbing elements of the movie — these depicted with great honesty. For instance, the filmmakers accurately recreate a raid that seemed aimed purely to kill, not capture, bin Laden. Similarly, it shows soldiers shooting unarmed wounded men to make sure they are dead, and shooting women and leaving them to die. Those are war crimes. Why wasn’t capture even an option? Daniel Klaidman’s very good and underappreciated book Kill or Capture tried to raise those issues, and this movie should have, as well.

All this “it’s just a movie” bullshit really sticks in my craw. (Former senator now movie-industry whore shill Chris Dodd was hitting this note repeatedly last night.) The film declares itself as based on first-hand accounts, and more to the point, uses the horror over the real 9/11 attacks and the satisfaction over the real killing of bin Laden to heighten its emotional impact. It is clearly trying to exploit and build on personal feelings about things that really happened, so when it departs from reality, that is significant.

It’s true that there are signs that the filmmakers were trying to be at least a bit ambiguous about the whole enterprise. The movie doesn’t end as celebratorily as I had feared. Most notably, there is only one SEAL whooping. And the final image shows Maya in tears. But how the viewers interpret the cause of those tears is significant. I didn’t see Maya as disgusted or remorseful; I saw her as exhausted, relieved, directionless and alone. And still very much  a hero.
At last night’s DC premiere, Bigelow spoke briefly before the movie, and Boal answered some questions from Martha Raddatz afterwards. But I don’t remember hearing either Bigelow or Boal use the word “torture” themselves, in the context of the acts they depicted. Maybe I am wrong, but I do know that Boal at one point spoke about “brutal” interrogations. A quick Google search doesn’t find them using the word to describe what they show in their movie. Not calling obvious, objective torture by its real name is the sign of someone who can’t face what really happened. Waterboarding, most obviously, is an archetypal form of torture. If in fact they are shrinking from calling the obvious torture they depict “torture” then they’ve got a lot of goddamn gall trying to appear like they’re not taking sides.

Do yourself a favor, and don’t go see this movie. Don’t encourage film-making that at best offers ambiguity about torture, and at worst endorses it. Spend the two and a half hours and the $10 on something more valuable, and moral.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Froomkin is also deputy editor of Nieman Watchdog: Questions the press should ask, a blog hosted by the Nieman Foundation for Journalism at Harvard University that, according to his account of it, “seeks to encourage more informed reporting by soliciting probing questions from experts.”[7]