Was Politics Always This Dirty?

I refer of course to the recent book by Nicky Hager that has wrong-footed John Key and further obscured the release of various policies from Labour to National over the past two weeks. The question I ask is inspired by the shrugging cynicism about not only the matters raised in the book, but the entire fabric of politics. Some people I have recently crossed swords with have assured me that this is nothing new, that politics has always been this way, and that I am naive to consider that there is anything to be gained by close inspection. I resent the implication, and I resent the patronising dismissal of my point of view. 

While I can accept (although grudgingly) a counterargument based on reason, it is quite beyond my tolerance to accept a blatant dismissal based simply on aged authority. The interlocutors I refer to are speaking from what they believe to be experience (which I lack and am grateful to receive if it is actually genuine), but they mistake their weight in years for intellectual currency -- they lazily expect to buy acceptance with it. While wisdom is the by-product of experience, weary presumption coupled with crows feet and wrinkles stands as pretender in its stead. It is bullshit, and it is a terrible thing to bullshit the young. 

So I won't swallow that kind of manure (that isn't the only reason why I won't) and will probably continue to alienate and engage people in equal measure with my argumentativeness. But the point of this exercise is to look at the degree of grubbiness in politics -- whether that has changed. Here the naysayers convict themselves of a chronic bitterness. To look at politics and conclude that there is no need to investigate the connection between bloggers and Government ministers because we've always known it was dirty is the ultimate expression of tired cynicism. It is a pervasive feeling, and valid to an extent. But it is not an argument. 

To be honest it is downright arrogance to presume such omniscience. A call to provide evidence makes sense here, but it's hampered by the fact that negativity tends to stick in the mind better than its counterpart. Muldoon was a bully who drove some officials to tears, he accused a Labour MP of homosexuality and the MP subsequently resigned (Colin Moyle, his departure after one of the most disgraceful events in Parliaments' history led to the irony of Muldoon's future successor David Lange winning the by-election in Mangare). Those events stick overwhelmingly in the mind to the point where Sir Robert Muldoon's achievements languish in obscurity. A false picture of Politics emerges.

But that is not to say that examination of the theory and practise of Muldoon/Key/Collins should be abandoned. Uncovering of the methods they use to throw mud helps ensure those methods will have to change. Will the mud stop flying? No, of course not. But the process enables us to partially reclaim politics from the mire -- if only for a time. The attempt to make things fairer and more positive is worth it for its own sake. This is particularly valid where it concerns such appalling public shits as Cameron Slater. (Please pardon my language, Slater has a knack for bringing out the worst in people).

We decide first as individuals, then as a greater community what we value in this world. Politics is trapped in an existential struggle to reach the unobtainable ideals we set to guide it, just as we are to some extent in our own lives. 'Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness' is a fine phrase, and a lesson that the journey is of more importance than the destination. Politics often falls so miserably short that a cynical state of mind is not an unreasonable side effect. But so long as the yearning to be better than ones nature survives intact the journey will continue, and occasionally there will be instances where politics really is all it promises to be. As John-Paul Sartre observed: 

'Life has no meaning a priori [from the earlier]. Life itself is nothing until it is lived, it is we who give it meaning, and value is nothing more than the meaning we give it.' 

In the same way Politics has no more meaning and value than what we give it. That's why Hager's book matters. To glance behind Oz's curtain and see the geezer tugging at leavers and seeing which ones he's using. Instead of drawing bitterness from that, how much better it would be if we draw strength, and a resolve to improve politics a bit. It's only an extension of ourselves -- as good, bad, and ugly as we are.

It is a smear, against promiscuous smearers.

Cunliffe's Mixed Messages on Mana, hurts Kelvin Davis (CARTOON)

Months ago I compared Labour list MP and candidate for the Te Tai Tokerau to a flea. I meant that he was annoyingly nipping at Labour's chances at the election by going all out to take Hone Harawira's seat. Mr Davis believes the Maori of the North are being taken advantage of -- being cynically used. This is frankly true. I argued that this was simply the way of politics; an argument which in isolation I stand by, but can no longer accept in this case. An opposition does not have to be the polar opposite of the government, but in an election they do need to provide a positive alternative. To a degree Labour is a genuine alternative government on policy, but I don't think they show it in their behaviour.

Officially Labour is in favour of amending the rules of MMP to remove the coat-tailing ability. This is a stand of principle. But it is muddied by the shiftiness with which the Party is dealing with Internet-Mana. Labour will need them if in the position to put together a government, but at the same time wants to keep them as distant as possible. In this fit of wanting-it-both-ways, David Cunliffe is trying to chart a middle course by strongly declaring that Internet-Mana would not be part of his government, while Party Secretary Tim Barnett smooths ruffled feathers their in Te Tai Tokerau. Kelvin Davis is part of the ABC (Anyone But Cunliffe) faction of Labour, and keeping him weak is in Cunliffe's interests. It is politics, not principle. The current government is shameless with electorate deals for it's support parties. Labour is trying to do the same thing -- while attempting to look like they aren't. Perhaps their slogan vote positive, actually means vote blind...

Mr Uninformed (Cartoon)

Blind Spot

Late by ten minutes driving an icy car, the outcome is and was as predictable as bad drama -- minus an ominous score.

A white van against an overcast morning not seen through a frosted window, and then it was right in front and the accelerated motion which should have carried me efficiently through the roundabout was jarringly halted. Truly I did not see it. Truly that fact is of no consequence.

The Police Officers travelling at a fortuitous distance behind on the same road, took charge within half a minute. I could retreat into my newly aching head and politely fume at myself. The Officers busied themselves with the mandatory task of collecting statements -- the flashing lights of their striped vehicle providing momentary interest to the bored passing motorists.

My car is in a bad way. "Undrivable", said the Senior Constable (I have no idea if he really is ranked Senior, but he was the senior of the two constables present). A buckled bonnet, headlight smashed all to hell, and a badly bent bumper -- that became evident once the ex-car was dragged onto the truck. A horrid scraping of asphalt, plastic, and metal was the death cry of such a dependable steed. The white van appeared to be suffering more of a flesh-wound, a dented sliding door which did not prevent it from behaving normally as a road vehicle, it shook off the sting and eventually went on its way.

"Failure to give way at an intersection." That's the ticket I can expect to receive in the mail next week. Failure. Such a dismal word, and so hard to inflect with a positive tone. In all truth I think my reactions were fortunately slow, for he was travelling faster than I, and in a flat-fronted van it would have been far worse if he had hit me. However the mark against me would still stand, I still failed to give way.

My car is gone, at least for now. My mobility therefore substantially reduced. But I crashed in a well kept and considerate neighbourhood, with policemen at the scene to help me from my car and kindly take responsibility for what I dare not (that is talk to the other chap). Insurance will hopefully step-up, my brother spirited me from the scene when the police inquiries were done, and I now sit by a warm fire and await a wholesome dinner. In all the chaos of the world, where desperate people do desperate things, and are never secure in so much as their next meal; when civilised planes are shot from an uncivilised sky -- how unfairly fortunate today am I.   

Summary of the last week in NZ politics...

A Critique of Pacifism, and a Defence of Argument

As a result of a recent row I was in about the conflict in Iraq and possibilities of dealing with the crisis, my anger and stridency got the better of me, and as a result I had much cause to ruminate. I was struck by the tone of pre-WWII pacifism I was hearing. I don't seek to rehash that particular shouting match in this piece – clearly I was angry and alarmed by what I was hearing (and did not desist when it was plain the person in question did not wish to argue) – what I want to do instead is examine the character of the position as best I can. I believe that on the one hand it is based on irrational anti-Americentrism, and on the other (although these factors frequently overlap) an antipodean solipsism. 

As I said the pacifism seemed to hark back to the inter-war period, when the motivation to prevent catastrophic modern war so clouded the minds of great statesmen that they did not act against the belligerent fascists of Germany and Italy – or even make pragmatic steps to galvanise their offensive capabilities until the fascists had an enormous military advantage. Appeasement, the theory has been so routinely discredited ever since, and its stalwarts (Neville Chaimberlain, Sidney Baldwin, Joe Kennedy) ridiculed and repudiated. But it was at a certain time a persuasive political doctrine, as was pacifism when articulated by writers like A.A. Milne in his book Peace with Honour. He drove the point that Britain doesn't fight wars to protect its culture, or its institutions, or its citizenry. It fights wars to protect its reputation as a belligerent nation, a first class power. Well pleaded, and persuasive as a general explanation of the wars around the turn of the century which culminated in WWI (and still worth reading). But it failed to take into account that the ground of history is ever shifting, that the passing of even a handful of years can see the arrival of a whole new set of circumstances which change the nature of a conflict and thus the case for joining it.

That is what Milne realised with the lead up to WWII and his subsequent book War with Honour sought to modify the obstinate pacifism of his earlier work. WWII was a struggle fought reluctantly, bitterly, and even with a touch of cynicism – it had to be fought, but it wasn't dressed up in honourable trappings. Dulche et decorum est pro patria mori, that hucksterish refrain to seduce the willing participation of a generation a century ago was disposed of, and 'blood, toil, tears and sweat' was the mantra by 1940. There was also a humanitarian dimension to the conflict, although it failed to persuade the appeasers. What did finally spur them to action was the direct threat Germany posed to France and Britain. A self-interested motivation does not rank high on charts of moral decision making, and yet is the principal pillar beneath the doctrines of isolationism, and pacifism (do not do to others what you would not want done to yourself is a sound rule, but is predicated on self-preservation by definition).

On Iraq

On the specific case of the Isis insurgency of Iraq - energized by more than a billion dollars US of oil revenue seized from the border zone of Iraq and Syria - even former Prime Minister Helen Clark (who decided not to support the Bush-Administration's invasion of Iraq in 2003) has stated that drawing a connection between the 2003 war and Isis is a 'long bow to draw'. More likely is that the group has been formed during the Syrian civil war (which infamously has been left out of western interference) and there is evidence they are financially backed by Wahabi Saudi Arabia. In the last few months at least 500,000 civilians have been forced from their homes and towns, they can't flee as refugees because Syria is a bloody war zone (with half a million dead so far), and other countries in the region (namely Jordan) are already struggling to cope with so many refugees who fled Syria. Currently Isis is being held up by the Kurds in the north and the Iraqi army in the south. Conflict at the moment surrounds the Baiji oil refinery, some 14o miles north of Baghdad. If Isis takes this the largest oil refinery in Iraq they will have the country’s economy in a submission hold. The situation is desperate, and a call to arms from a Shia cleric is already being answered by thousands of eager young men. Is a greater sectarian conflict – unchecked and unchallenged by the Nations that can do something – more desirable that a possible use of American military strength? Say it is not your problem if you like, but the international community is staring down the barrel at a looming catastrophe – shutting your eyes will not make the problem disappear.

The Saudi's are partly to blame for the sectarian conflict in the Middle East. I say partly first as a way to avoid hubris, and second to give room for the other influences, like the presence of oil in the region (nonetheless a widely misunderstood influence). Saudi Arabia is majority Sunni (the largest Islamic denomination at about 89% of the global Muslim population), at 85-90% of the kingdoms 28 million residents. For many years they have used their considerable oil wealth to finance the operations of terrorists (they financed Al-Qaeda and 9/11), Hamas in Gaza (classified as a terrorist organisation by the USA and Israel, but are a far more complicated case), and along with the United Arab Emirates contributed billions of dollars to the rebuilding of southern Lebanon - which as not as innocuous an action as it may seem. It was to counter the efforts of Iran backed Hezbollah (Shia) which was investing millions for the same purpose; the effort is more sectarian than humanitarian. 

Why then are the Saudi's supported so strongly by the USA? This is indeed a strange contortion in US foreign policy, but to be terse it continues because of the immense influence Saudi Arabia has over the Muslim world. The most holy site in Islam is situated within the city of Mecca, to which every Muslim is expected (commanded according to the Quran) to  make a pilgrimage to at least once in their lives. This gives the kingdom huge power over the people that visit, and that fact is something the USA knows all too well. 

On New Zealand

I don't to say that the New Zealand pacifist is one because they are self-interested, on the contrary the conviction seems held from a desire to do no harm to others. Since violence causes direct harm, and war produces the most violence, war must be opposed. As I have mentioned the circumstances of WWII showed the limitations of the pacifist case. There are times when one must engage in violence for the purpose of halting a worse violence. This is sometimes argued to be a paradox, but only if one grants the pacifists their premise: do no harm.  If you do not accept the rule as an absolute you are not therefore lacking in moral feeling, instead you are conceding that the universe is not just, and there are no absolutes. Some people will do the best they can, others the worst they can. A moral action is when someone acts outside of their self interest for the benefit of others. Killing is often-times immoral because it violates the second part of that rule – it is not to a person’s benefit to kill them. But a glance at that sentence reveals yet more exceptions and dilemmas. I refer to the concept of euthanasia and assisted suicide – issues that deserve discussion and debate, not hasty denials on the grounds that ‘killing is morally wrong’ therefore the matter must be shut in the bottom draw and forgotten. We do no justice to our intelligence when we close the door to debate. 

Today in New Zealand it should perhaps not be surprising that the remoteness of the country, its general tranquillity, and the suspicion of global 'powers' at the centre of a foreign policy that has for the last thirty years charted a lonely (though grudgingly respected) course in international politics, produces such pacifists. What I take issue with is the absolutist nature of their stance, coupled with the underlying moral relativistism which so often accompanies anti-americanism. That the values we hold at the core of our society are somehow incompatible with people in distant lands. That idea masquerades as a kind of cultural self-deprecation, but is a rejection of the universality of the human condition. 

Why this is particularly irksome is the people holding this conviction – who refuse to engage in argument – are the elite. They are wealthy baby boomers in the safe haven of a rich island nation with an excessive 'moat' (courtesy of the Pacific Ocean which Darwin once referred to as being very poorly named). The complaint ‘but it isn’t our problem,’ is a solipsistic one. Like it or not there is a tremendous amount of suffering and desperation beyond our shores, and it deserves open minded attention. In his writings George Orwell criticised those who have never seen the appalling sights of murdered corpses en-mass, for whom murder is just a word. This gives me plenty of cause to be uncomfortable myself, as I haven't ventured into an intrinsically dangerous zones, instead I've staggered in the shadows of old wars (Vietnam, Gallipoli). However I don't hide from the fact that I live in a very rare antipodean bubble of privilege. To the elite I say that their contention that people in distant lands should be left very much to themselves constitute an abnegation of their morality, as well as a pious dismissal of real human suffering. They have abandoned reason in favour of a contrived acceptability; would sooner swap trivial exchanges than test their theories, and will let the world burn while they fiddle.

I believe it is better to at the minimum argue over solutions than to tiredly dismiss them at a glance. Is a humanitarian crisis really not worth trying to resolve? I cannot accept that, and I won’t apologise for getting angry. 

Why is Isis posting pictures of the massacre of Iraqi soldiers? For sheer bloody terror.

Review: Edge of Tomorrow

I haven't read Hiroshi Sakurazaka's All You Need is Kill, so I cannot possibly make a judgement as to whether Doug Liman's new film Edge of Tomorrow works as an adaptation. I must restrict myself to a purely cinematic analysis, and my goodness this film surprised me. I won't do a complete plot summary (go here for that) but I do trespass into spoiler territory, so this is the alert.

I suspect that I was not the only one who felt a prickle of trepidation when the trailer for the Edge of Tomorrow preceded every other 3D film this year. Tom Cruise in yet another save the world CG-fest, embarrassing us all with his 'take me seriously I'm being intense' style. But my expectation that I was in for another War of the Worlds clunker showed more perhaps about my limited view of the capabilities of a serial Hollywood A-lister. 

Before getting into the positives I'll give this brief throat clearing. The story is wantonly simple, in fact the entire context of the war with an alien race is shamelessly lifted straight from WWII (the Aliens being the Nazi's of course) although without a holocaust. The big battle that dominates the story (partly because it is the centrepiece of the day that keeps being repeated) is essentially a futuristic version of D-day. It is shameless, but it is so because it has to be grasped quickly by the audience and held in mind through all of the confusing day repetitions. There is also an abundance of clichés, from the expected 'What took you so long?' line that seems to be attached to Hollywood with as much usefulness as tits on a bull, to all the ones you would expect in an army barracks. But again this negative is a paltry one, because it connects well with the very idea of living the same day over and over - your existence becomes cliché.  

Tom Cruise's gives a solid performance as Private (formerly Major) William Cage. He performs well physically, and only a few times drifts into his frustrating 'I'm being intense' moods. But the crucial importance of his character and why he does so well is that William Cage is a snobby little coward. At the start of the film he is dislikeable and unsympathetic as he tries to weasel his way out of fighting beside his fellow soldiers. When he is dragooned onto the beaches of Normandy he is authentically terrified, absent is the Tom Cruise heroism, he scurries from cover to cover trying desperately to take the safety off his weapons and pleading with his comrades to tell him how. He dies when a rare command alien attacks him and he sets off the claymore mine in a bid to kill it. The blood of the 'alpha' spills over his dying and burning up head transferring the alien power to control time to him. Thus he wakes up at the start of the previous day. 

The repeated cycle over and hover many thousands of times justifies his very Tom Cruise heroics later. He trains longer than anyone ever could, and through dying so many times in combat knows exactly what is going to happen before it does. This provides the best comedic elements as we see Tom die in many different ways and then quite methodically start again to get it right before dying again a few steps later. The film is well balanced in terms of pace to make sure this doesn't get boring - and it never does.

Emily Blunt plays the famous Sergeant Rita Vrataski, a ruthless fighter who once had the same power as William Cage, but lost it when she was injured and instead of dying was taken to a hospital and pumped with donated blood. She is the only one who believes Cage (and I assume must be met and persuaded every time he 'respawns') and trains him to fight as they hatch a plan to destroy the omega - the other half of the alien intelligence along with the alpha. If they destroy the omega they will literally save the world. A dead simple plot it is true but if it were complicated the movie would suffer, and honestly who the hell comes to a 3D film with high expectations on narrative?

Blunt is great at looking good while looking grim at the same time, and (I won't spoil it) although there is a predictable romantic tension it is mercifully unmilked. If I had $14 spare I might go to it a second time, I really do think it is that worth it. Given my sleepiness I will cut this short, there is really not much else to say except that I give Edge of Tomorrow a solid three and a half stars (out of five), and that I wish Tom Cruise would do this kind of thing more often.