Saturday, 3 December 2011

Labour conditions in China's toy factories


With Christmas three weeks away, an undercover investigation has revealed the bleak realities of life in Chinese toy factories serving a market worth £2.8bn a year in the UK alone. Big brands such as Disney, Lego and Marks & Spencer pay only a fraction of the shop price of products to the factories that make theirtoys. Last summer – as factories geared up to cope with demand for the Christmas period – investigators spent three weeks in the industrial cities of Shenzhen and Dongguan. In some cases, they found that employees:
■ worked up to 140 hours overtime a month;
■ were paid up to a month late;
■ claimed they were expected to work with dangerous tools and machines without training or safety measures;
■ had to work in silence and were fined up to £5 for going to the toilet without permission.
Perhaps the most insidious effect of the long hours and poor wages was how it tore families apart, separating mothers and fathers from their children for all but a few days a year. Many workers were too afraid to speak to the investigators from human rights group Students & Scholars Against Corporate Misbehaviour (Sacom), but two women did agree to talk on condition that their names were changed.. Read more http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2011/dec/04/chinese-toy-factories-christmas-disney

A Finer Balance - An Essay on the Possibility of Reconciliation

Text of an address delivered at the Documenta Symposium on Truth, Justice and Reconciliation, New Delhi, May 9, 2001.

Introduction
I begin this address by a simple reflection on the key words in the title of this symposium - truth, justice, reconciliation. They mean a great deal to me intellectually and emotionally, and they are always accompanied by a question mark - is there any such thing as truth, will there ever be a just society, may we dare hope for reconciliation? Like all great concepts they are too full of meaning to admit of any certitude. The title goes further - it speaks of experiments with truth, transitional justice, and processes of reconciliation. These phrases in turn, contain much food for thought, especially for Indians. It was an Indian, one of the greatest figures of the past century, who coined that germ of a Brahmasutra, “experiments with truth”, as his unique contribution to ethical philosophy. In its own way, this concept challenges the epistemological authoritarianism of market-liberalism, Leninism, and the monoliths of identity, while (in conjunction with the concept of ahimsa), suggesting an alternative to the nihilist ethics of post-modernity.

The concept of transitional justice is also one to which Indian experience speaks in a special way. Our transitions are different from the stark changes in South Africa and Germany yet they remain as painful. We are in perpetual states of temperamental, cultural, geo political and economic transition. Our social space is suspended between tradition and modernity, we exist as a people comprised of communities and also as a democratic nation state of individual citizens, our economy lies poised between regulation and the lack of it, our cultural and religious psyche does not know what to preserve and what to forget. Our notions of justice veer between a hierarchical sensibility that calibrates punishment according to the status of wrongdoers, and a jurisprudence that theoretically considers all citizens equal before the law. We know we are in transition. The only problem is that we don’t know where the transition is headed.

Again, the practice of reconciliation is something we desperately need to learn. Vast areas in the sub-continent have remained under martial law for decades. The number of orphans in the Kashmir valley run into the tens of thousands. Violence and terror have acquired a seamless trajectory. Communal and ethnic hatreds lurk beneath the surface of everyday life. The glorification of “masculine” virtue is a national pastime. And yet we Indians prefer to cling to our favourite symbolised grievances than to take the smallest steps towards comprehension and resolution.

The Threads of an Argument
The logic of my arguments will take the following trajectory, and base itself on the recognition that:

truth, justice and reconciliation are sorely needed;

that because they mean so many things to so many people, we must adopt certain rules of restraint and non-violence while we live and discover what they are,

that a society whose proclaimed leaders do not adhere to such rules, or have an equivocal stance towards political violence, is headed for self-destruction,

that democracy and human equality are relatively youthful concepts in the Asian polity - and even globally; that the extension of these principles to the world economy is still not acceptable to those who occupy its commanding heights,

that destitution and oppression are still the common experience of millions of people and while this lasts, the preservation of democracy is crucial to the fulfilment of modest aspirations

that reconciliation is only possible between equals, and cannot even be attempted when various conflicting parties humiliate and stifle one another

that a properly functional judicial system is crucial to social stability; and,

that judges, like the rest of us are mere mortals, and that therefore the sense of justice and fair play has to be sustained by a social ethos and enlightened public opinion.

In praise of… George Harrison and My Sweet Lord




Ten years on from the death of the quiet Beatle, there's all sorts of George nostalgia, including an enjoyable Scorsese film. But much of it makes the dreadful mistake of hailing Harrison's 60s delusion that you could make a good record by taking the genuine magic of the sitar and bolting on top a monotonous dirge enlivened with a few lysergic "insights". The truth is that the interest in eastern spirtualism did pay dividends, but only after the drone of Love You To and Within You Without You had faded away. With My Sweet Lord, George returned to the form that had made the Beatles name – the straight, great little pop tune. 



source:http://redriverpak.wordpress.com/2011/10/07/music-flashback-george-harrison/


But he twisted the familiar formula – substituting the usual jingle concerning a yearning for sexual gratification with lyrics about a yearning for death, or the redemption he believed that it promised. He thereby married his newfound mysticism to the musical format of which he was a past master. There was a legal dispute about whether the melody and very nice chord sequence, with that distinctive diminished seventh, had been lifted from The Chiffons' He's So Fine. Maybe, but no one comparing their mindless "doo-lang-doo-lang" backing vocals with Harrison's extraordinary multifaith mantra – which moves from Hallelujah to Hare Krishna – could dispute he was doing something new. As George sings of salvation, his voice projects real peace of mind, and then of course there's the weeping guitar. It all combines to lend a taste of grace to the most irreligious of ears. Hear the song: 
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a48gIt84AZc&feature=related


and here he is singing While my guitar gently weeps
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W3qx4RQotho&feature=related
at the Concert for Bangladesh organised by him and Ravi Shankar on August 1, 1971 
http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=endscreen&v=ryV6TSbszeI&NR=1
I look at the world and I notice it's turning
While my guitar gently weeps
With every mistake we must surely be learning
Still my guitar gently weeps.

Friday, 2 December 2011

Pity and war histories


But how should intellectuals write about acts of immense depravity? Faced with an outpouring of books, films, plays, television programmes and computer games based on the First and Second World Wars, it is an appropriate time to revisit this question. Peter Englund and Max Hastings might be expected to have pondered this question in the course of writing their hefty works on the First and Second World Wars (532 and 748 pages respectively). Unfortunately, despite Englund’s engrossing storytelling talents and Hastings’s dazzling display of erudition, both books provoke a vague sense of unease about the form of history that they represent: that is, history as affect.
The problem that both Englund and Hastings face in writing about war is one that troubled Auden throughout much of his life. Indeed, a couple of years before the Second World War, Auden had reflected on the poetics of cruelty. In Letters from Iceland, he evoked a scene in which he observed the slaughter of an enormous, gentle whale, “the most beautiful animal I have ever seen”. While the whale was being cut up on the slip-way, Auden heard a bell clang and, immediately, “everyone stuck their spades in the carcass and went off to lunch. The body remained alone in the sun, the flesh still steaming a little”. He reflected that the scene evoked “an extraordinary vision of the cold controlled ferocity of the human species”.
In a powerful essay, entitled “Squares and Oblongs”, Auden speculated that writing about cruelty meant paying attention precisely to the “lack of feeling” that enabled (some) humans to move easily from slaughter to sipping a mug of tea. Such a poem would have to tell how “when he read the news [of atrocity], the poet, like you and I, dear reader, went on thinking about his fame or his lunch, and how glad he was that he was not one of the victims”...
both Englund’s and Hastings’s histories seek to draw readers into the intimate lives of people who suffered through the First and Second World Wars.  Englund constructs a picture of war from the perspective of twenty individuals, resolutely declaring that The Beauty and the Sorrow is not about “its causes, course, conclusion, and consequences” but about “what it was like” (his emphasis). He is vague about how he chose his twenty individuals, but undoubtedly his strategic choices profoundly dictated his overall portrayal of the war. As he acknowledges, his book is a work of “anti-history”, or the reduction of history into “its smallest, most basic component – the individual”. His book’s novelistic tone, in which small vignettes are piled up, makes for riveting reading but, as history, is this anything more than a brilliantly composed blog (he is an enthusiastic blogger) about an appalling time?
Hastings is not an enthusiastic blogger (although I may stand corrected) and, unlike Englund, his sample of first-person accounts is vast. All Hell Let Loose is a global history of the Second World War. It is a complex, even magisterial, account. Of these two books, Hastings’s is the more impressive. Part of its power lies in the fact that the author possesses a strong line on practically every issue, ironing out with authoritative confidence the numerous disputes and wrangles that mark academic debates on the Second World War. It is not reductive, patriotic history, nevertheless, and Hastings’s indictment of the British authorities’ response (or lack of) to the Bengal famine of 1943–4 is perceptive, as is his respect for the rank and file of totalitarian regimes. For someone seeking a general history of the war, including its political and diplomatic components, this is as good a place to start as any. Although the massacre at Lidice is not in his index, this is a reminder of the sheer scale of atrocity during the war of 1939–45.
For all their differences, Englund’s and Hastings’s books both excel in depicting the horrors of war. Englund judiciously observes the tedium of war, as well as its “beauty”, and Hastings has a knack for the apposite statistic, but both their narratives focus on the individual’s personal confrontation with violence. Both are concerned with the experiences of individuals, and both deliberately solicit affect. They prioritize personal stories and individual life trajectories. Readers are supposed to be mesmerized by horror – and if reviews of Hastings’s book are anything to go by, he has succeeded admirably.
The emotional impact of both studies cannot be denied. But perhaps the “history of war” as the “history of affect” should still give pause. <http://www.the-tls.co.uk/tls/public/article833313.ece>

'Honour' crimes against women in UK rising rapidly, figures show


The number of women and girls in the UK suffering violence and intimidation at the hands of their families or communities is increasing rapidly, according to figures revealing the nationwide scale of "honour" abuse for the first time.
Statistics obtained under the Freedom of Information Act about such violence – which can include threats, abduction, acid attacks, beatings, forced marriage, mutilation and murder – show that in the 12 police force areas for which comparable data was available, reports went up by 47% in just a year.
The figures, shared with the Guardian by the Iranian and Kurdish Women's Rights Organisation (Ikwro), also reveal that a small number of forces – including four in Scotland – are still not collecting data on how often such violence occurs.
The 39 police forces that gave Ikwro figures recorded 2,823 incidents in 2010. Ikwro estimates that another 500 crimes in which police were involved were committed in the 13 force areas that did not provide data.
But this is likely to be only the tip of the iceberg, campaigners say, as so many incidents go unreported because of victims' fears of recriminations. Jasvinder Sanghera of victim support group Karma Nirvana said the real figure could be four times as high...
Ikwro's campaigns officer, Fionnuala Ni Mhurchu, said the increase was probably due partly to better police awareness and to more victims coming forward after coverage of high-profile prosecutions, but that violence itself was also increasing as young people increasingly refused to bow to their families' demands.
"They're resisting abuses of their human rights such as forced marriage more and more," she said. "And as a result they're being subjected to this kind of violence. We hear from the community that this violence is on the increase.

Also see support networks for Asian women <http://www.karmanirvana.org.uk/>
and for Middle-eastern women: http://ikwro.org.uk/

Jesmyn Ward: 'I wanted to write about the people of the south'

On Wednesday night, Jesmyn Ward joined the likes of William Faulkner and Jonathan Franzen when she won the National Book Award for fiction. Her novel, Salvage the Bones, is a searing portrait of a poor African American family living in coastal Mississippi during Hurricane Katrina. Ward took a moment to talk to EW about her big win and share some of her favorite books that inspire her as a writer. 


When Jesmyn Ward stood blinking before the great and the good of US publishing at a restaurant in downtown Manhattan last week, she came as close as you can get in the book world to having a Gwyneth Paltrow moment. The 34-year-old outsider for the National Book Award had just won for her second novel, Salvage the Bones, about a family living in the path of Hurricane Katrina. "I wanted," she said in her acceptance speech, "to write about the experiences of the poor and the black and the rural people of the south." And to prevent herself from freaking out, she fell back on something most novelists don't have recourse to: a martial-arts training. "Breathe," she told herself. "You can breathe through anything.





The events in the novel were partly inspired by what happened to her family in 2005, when Katrina tore through their town. In the novel, which is seen through the eyes of Esch, its 14-year-old female protagonist, the family escapes rising flood water through a hole in the roof. In real life, Ward's family managed to reach their truck and drive to the house of a neighbouring white family, where the real drama began..



"And there we are," says Ward, trembling slightly at the memory. "Me, my mom, my mom's husband, my elderly grandmother, my grandfather and my pregnant sister, who at eight months was very big. We're soaking wet because we've had to scramble out of the house and swim part of the way. And they open up the door. And the wind is rocking the car and they're yelling at us and we're yelling back at them because it's the only way we can be heard, and trees are flying through the air. They shout: 'Are y'all all right?' And we're like: 'Are you serious? We're sitting outside in a category-five hurricane. Do we look O-OK?'" She stutters. "And they said: 'Well, y'all can sit outside in this field, until the water goes down, but we don't have room for you in the house. We can't let you in.' And I thought: this is some bullshit."

Julian Assange: iPhone, Blackberry and Gmail users are 'screwed' - video

WikilLeaks founder Julian Assange tells smartphone and Gmail users 'you're all screwed' by intelligence contractors who sell mass surveillance devices for such technologies in the post 9/11 world. He also announced that his whistleblowing organisation was embarking on a new 'source protection platform'.


http://www.guardian.co.uk/media/video/2011/dec/02/julian-assange-iphone-blackberry-gmail-surveillance-screwed-video