Elsewhere Today (402)
Aljazeera:
Pressure on pope for personal apology
Sunday 17 September 2006, 6:53 Makka Time, 3:53 GMT
Pope Benedict is under pressure to issue a personal apology when he makes his first public appearance since unpopular comments he made about Islam, despite the Vatican earlier issuing an apology on his behalf.
The Roman Catholic pope is due to give his regular blessing at his summer residence Castelgandolfo on Sunday.
The Vatican issued a statement on Saturday saying the pope hoped Muslims would understand the "true sense" of the words he used in a speech at the University of Regensburg in Germany on Tuesday.
The statement, issued by Cardinal Tarcisio Bertone, the Vatican secretary of state, said the pope was "extremely upset" that parts of his speech "were able to sound offensive to the sensibilities of Muslim believers".
Bertone added that the comments, which led to several protests, had been interpreted in a way "that does not at all correspond to his intentions".
"The pope is unequivocally in favour of dialogue between religions and cultures," he said.
Apology rejected
Egypt's Muslim Brotherhood, however, said the pope's apology did not go far enough.
"We want a personal apology. We feel that he has committed a grave error against us and that this mistake will only be removed through a personal apology," Mohammed Habib, the deputy leader of the organisation, said.
"Has he presented a personal apology for statements by which he clearly is convinced? No," he said.
On Saturday, Morocco recalled its ambassador to the Vatican.
The pope had quoted from a medieval text which said: "Show me just what [Prophet] Muhammad brought that was new, and there you will find things only evil and inhuman, such as his command to spread by the sword the faith he preached."
The comments sparked protests from the Muslim community in the Palestinian territories, Pakistan, India, Egypt and elsewhere.
On Friday, thousands marched in the Gaza Strip, waving the green flags of Hamas and chanting praises to "God and his prophet".
Ismail Haniya, the Palestinian prime minister, criticised the pope's comments, saying: "These remarks go against the truth and touch the heart of our faith."
Two churches in the West Bank and several Christian institutions in Gaza were bombed, causing damage but no casualties.
'Revenge' calls
Leading politicians and several prominent Christian and Muslim leaders also criticised the remarks.
Recep Tayyip Erdogan, the Turkish prime minister, called on Saturday for the pope to apologise for his "unfortunate, ugly" remarks on Islam.
The Iraqi government called for calm after a church in Basra was reportedly attacked.
Sheikh Abubukar Hassan Malin, a religious leader linked to Somalia's powerful Islamic Courts Group, called for Muslims to hunt down and kill the pope for his remarks.
"We call on all Islamic communities across the world to take revenge on the baseless critic called the pope," he was quoted by the AFP news agency as saying.
The full prepared text of the pope's speech at the University of Regensburg can be seen here
Agencies
http://english.aljazeera.net/NR/exeres/DF1C168D-EA5D-46A2-8138-A435FF186E30.htm
allAfrica:
Made Admits to Grain Shortages
By Augustine Mukaro
Zimbabwe Independent (Harare) NEWS
September 15, 2006
AGRICULTURE minister Joseph Made has for the first time admitted that Zimbabwe is facing serious grain shortages and that the country has been importing the commodity to bridge the gap.
Responding to questions in parliament last Wednesday, Made confessed that government had been having problems in providing maize to millers. "Indeed, we have been having a problem of supplying grain to the millers," Made said in response to a question by Harare North MP Trudy Stevenson.
"We have been balancing the distribution between what we have already collected and what we have imported. We have now given authority to the GMB to make sure that our stocks now meet the shortfall on importation on a weekly basis."
Made attributed part of the shortages to transport problems caused by fuel unavailability, saying there had been "some marginal movements in the supply of the grain but it has not been enough".
"The issue has been that when we tell the millers to collect, let us say from Aspindale, everybody will be going there because it will be much cheaper than going to Concession in terms of transportation costs," he said.
Made also partly blamed millers for the shortages, saying they should mill and deliver mealie-meal as soon as they receive the grain.
"We know that at times, millers will tend to hold on to some mealie-meal. There have been issues that there will be price movements and so on but I would want to say that there is nothing like that at the moment," he said.
Copyright © 2006 Zimbabwe Independent. All rights reserved. Distributed by AllAfrica Global Media (allAfrica.com).
http://allafrica.com/stories/200609150629.html
Arab News:
About Double Standard and Selective Justice!
Dr. Khaled Batarfi, kbatarfi@al-madina.com
Sunday, 17, September, 2006 (24, Sha`ban, 1427)
In a classic George Orwell novel, a character explains to a commoner: Yes, we are all equals, but some are more equal than others.
True, since the beginning of time, the strong has managed to justify applying varying grades of justice to different levels of people. The class system was one way of making those on the top of the ladder above the law, and those directly below accountable only to their seniors. Even with the Common Law that applies to the rest of us, there are enough holes in the net — sometimes called exceptions — to let the sharks through and keep the little fish in.
The art of “framing” was invented to serve the elite and justify the unjustifiable. Smart people could always call things and actions in a way that make them either acceptable or abhorrent.
One of the classic products of this art is the different names we assign to resistant movements, like the American rebellion against British rule, the Arab revolt against the Ottoman Empire and the European resistance to the Nazi occupation. The very same people become terrorists to some and freedom fighters to others.
History is full of examples. Many regards Genghis Khan as a legend and others who look at the ways he ruled the world call him savage. The same could be said of other historical figures who caused far more death and destruction, like Mao and Stalin. Stalin caused the death of twenty million of his own people, and still many consider him the Man of Steel and the greatest leader in Russian history.
Today, double standards and framing cases are plenty. The Zionists and neocons, like the Nazis and Communists, are pretty good at it. Interestingly enough, they use similar terms and ways. The Final Solution that meant Holocaust to millions of innocent Jews is used today to justify raining death and destruction on millions of Palestinians. The theatrical, open-ended Cultural Revolution that killed millions of Chinese in the Maoist era equals the War on Terror that too has no clear definition, schedule or end results.
The invasion and occupation of Iraq was sold as a noble quest for bringing democracy to the Middle East. The world community seeks to get rid of Iraq’s weapons of mass destruction and allies of Al-Qaeda, they told us. Since the first pretexts turned out to be manufactured lies, Saddam became a new Hitler who, if left alone, would start World War III. The invasion was called the “War of Liberation.”
However, while the fight against the Russian invaders of Afghanistan was described as Islamic jihad, the Iraqi resistance to the “War of Liberation” is dismissed as naked terrorism. The Israeli wars on Lebanon and the Palestinians are acts of “self-defense”. However, if the victims fight back, in an organized fashion or individually, it is suicidal terror. America’s multi-billion dollar economic and military support to rich, powerful and destructive Israel that has surplus budget and one of the world’s highest GDP is regarded as right, moral and necessary. But the much smaller Iranian aid to Hezbollah is considered outrageous support for a terrorist organization.
A Pakistani nuclear bomb is called “Islamic”, and the “alleged” Iranian quest for nuclear power is regarded as a threat to world peace and security. In the meanwhile, the Indian bomb is not called Hindu, and Israel, which the world voted the greatest threat to peace, is not even mentioned as a nuclear state and its hundreds of nuclear heads have never been called “Jewish.”
Europe lived through a decade of religious wars. Ireland went through devastating decades of such a war. Yet, no one labeled a US-supported terrorist organization, like IRA, Christian. The same can be said of the many religious militias in the US, Europe, Israel and India. Not even one was described as fascist Christian, Jewish or Hindu, as Mr. Bush recently called ours.
When Western religious leaders, including presidential advisers, insult Islam, call for war on Muslims, and collect billions of dollars to help Christian revolts in Muslim countries, it is their constitutional right. But when Muslims contribute to Islamic charities and causes, and when some extremists in the Muslim world express their frustration, anger and desperation, it is terrorism support and hate speech.
Worse, we are all held responsible for what they say and collectively punished. Such double standard and selective application of justice give credence to our extremists’ claims of new crusades and Christian-Jewish conspiracy. Both sides respond with more extremist positions and actions. We need to end this vicious cycle, but who would take the first step? The better and wiser ones of course!
Copyright: Arab News © 2003 All rights reserved.
http://www.arabnews.com/?page=7§ion=0&article=86677&d=17&m=9&y=2006
Clarín:
El alma del pueblo
Algunas localidades están atadas a la suerte de una gran empresa. Arroyito, Luque y La Emilia son tres de estos "pueblos fábrica". ¿Cómo lo viven?
Marina Aizen
17.09.2006
El dulce olor de la glucosa intenta abrigar el aire frío de la noche estrellada, pero es en vano. José Luis Guevara, empleado de Arcor hace 36 años, espera en silencio en la puerta de la fábrica, con la bolsa de plástico en la mano. Son apenas las 21.20 y este hombre, que fabrica caramelos desde los quince, quiere estar muy seguro de que podrá marcar a las 22, cuando se produzca el cambio de turno. "Este es mi segundo hogar, un poco la patria", dice. Cuando por fin llega la hora, la escena es impactante. Salen los de la tarde, entran los de la noche. Pasan obreros en bicicleta en todas las direcciones. Se ven chicos vendiendo facturas para los que van y vienen. Todo lo inunda el mismo olor, el olor a caramelo que en Arroyito ya nadie huele y que sin embargo es envolvente. Como la noche.
La salida y la entrada de los tres turnos cotidianos de la planta industrial marcan inevitablemente el ritmo de la vida de esta prolija ciudad cordobesa, en la que se instalan cada año entre 1.200 y 1.400 nuevas almas. "Aquí hay circulante", dice Emilio, quien acaba de inmigrar a Arroyito para abrir un café: la inversión de su vida. Más de la mitad de la población depende directa o indirectamente de Arcor. Todos tienen uno o más parientes haciendo caramelos duros, blandos, con o sin relleno. Hasta el intendente, Gustavo Benedetti, salió de sus gigantescos galpones. "Soy un intendente con licencia de trabajo", dice este tornero devenido en político, militante de la UCR.
Quizá nunca Arroyito hubiera salido de pueblo si a un grupo de inmigrantes piamonteses no se le hubiera ocurrido apostar a los dulces en el medio de la Pampa Gringa, hace poco más de medio siglo. Ahora, cada vez que un chino o un bosnio pela un caramelo salido de esta fábrica, este rincón de Córdoba se expande un poco más. Hoy, esta ciudad, en la que apenas se sintió la crisis de 2001, está en pleno apogeo, como otros pueblos del interior donde las industrias volvieron a arrancar. Desandando 40 kilómetros desde Arroyito por una ruta de tierra se llega a Luque, que tras una década de estancamiento reverdeció cuando los argentinos volvieron a consumir los lavarropas Drean, fabricados por el Grupo Alladio. En cuatro años, el pueblo pasó de 6 mil a 10 mil habitantes, contagiando a localidades vecinas, cuyos viejos habitantes parecían seguir vivos por la mera voluntad de no ver a su lugar desaparecer.
Pero los pueblos que viven de una gran empresa también están sujetos a sus ciclos, no siempre favorables. A unos 20 kilómetros de San Nicolás, en el límite entre las provincias de Buenos Aires y Santa Fe, aparece La Emilia, que tuvo el orgullo de albergar a la hilandería más grande de América latina. Los casimires de La Emilia volvían de Londres convertidos en trajes. Hoy, en el predio se fabrican motos.
DEL YUTE A LAS MOTOS
"La Emilia" fue la esposa de Leodegario Córdova, un español que instaló esta fábrica textil en 1892, aprovechando la energía de un molino de agua que alimentaba el Arroyo del Medio. Alrededor de la planta había sólo campo. Pero a medida que más y más kilómetros de hilo y tela comenzaron a salir de sus galpones, el pueblo fue creciendo y creciendo. Llegó a tener un cine con 2 mil butacas mientras San Nicolás no tenía sala para ver una película. Tuvo una pileta olímpica, también un bowling. La compañía construyó la iglesia, las casas, le dio razón de ser al pueblo. Sus habitantes no dependían sólo económicamente de la empresa. Cuando a alguien se le rompía el cuerito de la canilla, iba un operario de planta para arreglarlo. Los teléfonos de las casas eran internos de la fábrica.
Ahora, el edificio principal del establecimiento, que de tan imponente hace las veces de Empire State en un pueblo de casas bajas, está lleno de guano de palomas. Y donde había un ruido ensordecedor de telares pasan constantemente chicos en moto, a los bocinazos. Son los bisnietos de los trabajadores textiles que hoy arman los rodados de la empresa Motomel. Carlos Spangenberg, el vicedirector de operaciones industriales de la empresa, todavía cree sentir el olor a los hilados donde hoy sólo hay depósitos de motos. Así de traicionera es la memoria.
La Emilia trabaja otra vez, pero claro que no con 5 mil trabajadores, sino con 300. En lo peor de la crisis llegaron a ser media docena. Su historia es un ilustrativo ejemplo no sólo de la zigzagueante realidad argentina, sino también de los efectos colaterales de tanta globalización. Los trajes de lana, cuya materia prima abastecía la fábrica, cada vez se usan menos. Meller, la compañía de alfombras que adquirió la empresa quebrada en los años '80, decidió cambiar de rubro en una visita de sus ejecutivos a la India. Allí compraban el yute y vieron cuán prósperos eran los fabricantes de ciclomotores. Así fue cómo este rincón de la Pampa Húmeda aprendió a andar sobre dos ruedas.
EL PUEBLO QUE SERA CIUDAD
"Y de repente, Luque se convirtió en un lugar de hombres solos", dice Esmeralda Canga, una chica emprendedora, de sólo 25 años. Es la dueña de una de las dos radios del pueblo. Es que después de la crisis, Alladio empezó a requerir mano de obra, y gente con sed de trabajo empezó a llegar de todas partes. Pero no había lugar para hospedar a sus familias, así que sólo se instalaron los maridos o los hijos.
Luque, como Arroyito, es un muestrario de acentos: los empleados llegan de provincias distintas. Seremos todos argentinos pero el choque cultural de las distintas comunidades existe igual. Benedetti, el intendente de Arroyito, dice que la Municipalidad siempre debe andar mediando en peleas entre santiagueños y santafesinos, de cordobeses con tucumanos, porque las "idiosincracias" son distintas.
Pero lo más duro para los recién llegados no sólo es adquirir y convivir con nuevas costumbres sino poder adaptarse a los tiempos de una fábrica, a los turnos rotativos. Una semana se trabaja a la mañana, la otra de tarde, la tercera de noche. "Son dos años de derecho de piso", dice el padre Juan Vidotto, de la Iglesia Nuestra Señora de la Merced, de Arroyito. El las vio todas. Cuando llegó esto era un pueblo de apenas 6 mil almas, ahora es una ciudad de casi 30 mil. Luque también espera poder ser llamada "ciudad" en el 2010, y si la fábrica continúa viento en popa y la soja sigue siendo un boom, este sueño puede ser más que posible. Ahora, la calle 25 de Mayo, la principal del pueblo, está llena de negocios de ropa bien fashion. Pero por sus veredas no transita un alma. "Este es un pueblo que trabaja. No sale", dice Esmeralda. Comienza y termina de vibrar alrededor de los turnos de la fábrica.
Es fácil darse cuenta de dónde vive cada quién en Luque por el tamaño de la casa. La familia de los Alladio nunca se fue de este pueblo de casas prolijas y sus hijos fueron al colegio junto a los hijos de todos los demás. La figura de los Alladio aquí es más importante que la del intendente. Y la presencia del clan familiar tiene una estatura casi mítica. Cerca de la entrada del pueblo, en la esquina de Vélez Sarsfield y Chacabuco, hay un gran mural en el que se representa a José Alladio, el primero en arribar a estos lares, en una escena de cosecha. El Ford T de Don José es un símbolo aún vigente: se alquila para todos los casamientos. Los Alladio financian todas las instituciones, desde las ONG hasta los bomberos. Con su vida late el resto del pueblo, donde –claro– todos tienen lavarropas.
FABRICA DE EMPLEOS
Muchos pueblos y ciudades del interior tienen un dicho que los caracteriza. En Rafaela, dicen que su progreso es "90 por ciento transpiración, 10 por ciento inspiración". En Arroyito se dice: "Vos hacés la pared, que Arcor te pone el techo". Esto se comprueba con ver la geografía de la plaza central de la ciudad: la Municipalidad y la iglesia fueron construidas por el mismo arquitecto que hizo los galpones de la fábrica. Lo hizo con los mismos materiales, por lo que tanto la iglesia como la Municipalidad y la planta padecen de idénticos problemas edilicios.
El padre Juan dice que la fábrica ha logrado generar una mano de obra disciplinada, una lealtad muy especial. El intendente lo confirma. Dice que "en mis más de 50 años cerca de Arcor, le habrán hecho sólo dos paros". Parado frente a la fábrica, Constanzo Diandrea, que trabaja en la sección 108 de la planta, cuenta con sus palabras lo mismo. "Arroyito no sería nada sin Arcor. Sería un pueblito como cualquier otro."
Hay mucho de cierto en esto. A principios del siglo XIX, El Fuerte, el pueblo lindero a Arroyito, parecía destinado a ser el que marcara el rumbo en la zona. Pero cuando se talaron todos los montes de algarrobo, el suelo quedó pelado y esa localidad se encontró sin destino. En 1951, cuando se inauguró la primera de las instalaciones para fabricar caramelos, un diario local escribió que la planta "constituye para Arroyito una verdadera solución a su problema social y económico, contrarrestando la desocupación motivada por el fracaso de la cosecha". Esta historia no se concretó de manera perfectamente lineal. Pero la verdad es que el pueblo –que hoy ya es ciudad–, no hubiera alcanzado la dimensión que tiene sin esta enorme fábrica de caramelos, que nunca para de producir.
Copyright 1996-2006 Clarín.com - All rights reserved
http://www.clarin.com/diario/2006/09/17/sociedad/s-01272789.htm
Clarín:
Será porque nos queremos sentir bien
POR BEATRIZ SARLO
17.09.2006
Q uienes hayan vivido en zonas con inviernos verdaderamente duros saben lo que significa la llegada de la primavera. Allí donde nieva, el invierno es persistente y helado, la oscuridad de los anocheceres se hace más densa por el frío y el viento que, en ciudades como Berlín, ha atravesado sin parar kilómetros de llanuras heladas donde nada se ha interpuesto salvo más hielo y más nieve. Entonces, la primavera trae el deshielo que avanza día a día, convirtiendo el hielo sólido y resbaladizo, sucio pero inconmovible del invierno, en barro y agua turbia que gotea de los techos y humedece la ropa, aunque la promesa de la nueva estación esfuma la incomodidad de ese momento transitorio hacia la felicidad del calor y la luz. La primavera es alivio y alegría.
En Buenos Aires o Rosario o Córdoba, en cambio, la primavera es más bien una festividad de las costumbres heredadas. Su llegada se celebra por razones de carácter cultural y simbólico más que de transformación de la vida. Imita el renacer después de los meses helados, pero aquí esos meses no han sido tan fríos ni las esquinas se volvieron ángulos inhóspitos donde dobla el viento sobre los cuerpos que se acurrucan. Tenemos una primavera por delegación y por herencia de tradiciones. Además, los meses que le corresponden pueden ser desagradables y arremolinados, a veces más fríos que los del invierno precedente, o sea que nada es completamente verdadero, salvo las nuevas plantas que venden los floristas y las nuevas ropas que aparecen después de las liquidaciones. El único cambio relevante de verdad es la abundancia de luz.
Después de un invierno en Nueva York o en Berlín, se espera la llegada de la primavera como si fuera una promesa que, si se difiere algunos días, provoca cólera y sobre todo defraudación. Ya no se tolera un día más el invierno que se recibió con firmeza, pero que se fue clavando en las manos y en la cara, y obligó a caminar con la cabeza baja, hundida entre los hombros, y la espalda tensa para que la mordedura del frío no alcanzara un cuerpo desprevenido y por eso envuelto en seis o siete capas de ropa; el invierno hace temer la salida del subterráneo, con esas ráfagas aviesas que reciben a los que pisan el último peldaño de la escalera devueltos al frío después de quince o veinte minutos en el túnel caliente y lleno de vapor. En el invierno los movimientos se hacen como en una cámara al vacío, donde no se puede correr a causa del hielo y los borceguíes, los tres pares de medias, el paraguas abierto sostenido en las inseguras manos enguantadas. El invierno es torpeza.
Los porteños casi no conocemos esas sensaciones, ni siquiera los más miserables. En Nueva York, en las noches de temperatura bajo cero los policías salen a buscar a los sin casa para sacarlos de las rejas de los subtes donde las ropas se les humedecen con el vapor y luego se les congelan sobre el cuerpo. Los dejan entrar y quedarse al abrigo de Pennsylvania Station, donde una madrugada de finales de enero vi centenares de mendigos y de locos escapados del frío, que deambulaban como extras de una película de anticipación. En lugares así, cuando llega la primavera, la celebración no es meramente simbólica o un feriado para estudiantes.
Algunas ciudades de los Estados Unidos no tienen pobres porque no resistirían el clima del invierno: no existe gente sin casa en Minneapolis, donde se apilan dos o tres metros de nieve y se hielan los lagos. El invierno hace lo mismo que los intendentes que toman medidas para que los pobres no contaminen sus ciudades porque eso las volvería menos "exitosas". Hay lugares donde, en invierno, no se ve el suelo y por supuesto no hay verde ni flores en los parques. Después del almuerzo, comienza el atardecer. En compensación, los que pueden compran cantidades asombrosas de flores, que llegan de América Latina al invierno nórdico (además de los tulipanes holandeses que son extrañas flores del frío).
Hace muchos años pasé el invierno y la primavera en Trelew, donde no hay nieve, pero la sensación de deshielo es idéntica: se desentumece la vida cotidiana que había estado envuelta en un viento impiadoso y lleno de arena; de pronto a muchos se les ocurrió que había que ir hasta el mar, darse una vuelta por Puerto Pirámides, o pasar el día en los pueblos de tradición galesa. En la Patagonia, la primavera mete su cuña de diferencia en lo que se ha venido soportando.
Por eso, la primavera en Buenos Aires es un acto cultural y del mercado (la fiesta nacional de los fabricantes de cerveza y de los floristas). Tomar Palermo por asalto significa una liberación seguramente, pero no de la penuria de los meses transcurridos, sino un festejo en sí mismo, que celebra algo, la juventud, la adolescencia, no como recompensa por lo pasado sino como directo impulso de identificación entre los nombres de los cuatro ciclos de la naturaleza y de las edades de la vida.
Copyright 1996-2006 Clarín.com - All rights reserved
http://www.clarin.com/diario/2006/09/17/sociedad/s-01272802.htm
CounterPunch:
The American Military's Cult of Cruelty
Ethos of the Destroyers
Robert Fisk
September 16 / 17, 2006
In the week that George Bush took to fantasising that his blood-soaked "war on terror" would lead the 21st century into a "shining age of human liberty" I went through my mail bag to find a frightening letter addressed to me by an American veteran whose son is serving as a lieutenant colonel and medical doctor with US forces in Baghdad. Put simply, my American friend believes the change of military creed under the Bush administration-from that of "soldier" to that of "warrior"-is encouraging American troops to commit atrocities.
From Abu Ghraib to Guantanamo to Bagram, to the battlefields of Iraq and to the "black" prisons of the CIA, humiliation and beatings, rape, anal rape and murder have now become so commonplace that each new outrage is creeping into the inside pages of our newspapers. My reporting notebooks are full of Afghan and Iraqi complaints of torture and beatings from August 2002, and then from 2003 to the present point. How, I keep asking myself, did this happen? Obviously, the trail leads to the top. But where did this cult of cruelty begin?
So first, here's the official US Army "Soldier's Creed", originally drawn up to prevent anymore Vietnam atrocities:
"I am an American soldier.
I am a member of the United States Army-a protector of the greatest nation on earth. Because I am proud of the uniform I wear, I will always act in ways creditable to the military service and the nation that it is sworn to guard ...
No matter what situation I am in, I will never do anything for pleasure, profit or personal safety, which will disgrace my uniform, my unit or my country.
I will use every means I have, even beyond the line of duty, to restrain my Army comrades from actions, disgraceful to themselves and the uniform.
I am proud of my country and it's flag.
I will try to make the people of this nation proud of the service I represent for I am an American soldier."
Now here's the new version of what is called the "Warrior Ethos":
I am an American soldier.
I am a warrior and a member of a team. I serve the people of the Unites States and live the Army values.
I will always place the mission first.
I will never accept defeat.
I will never quit.
I will never leave a fallen comrade.
I am disciplined, physically and mentally tough, trained and proficient in my warrior tasks and drills. I always maintain my arms, my equipment and myself.
I am an expert and I am a professional. I stand ready to deploy, engage and destroy the enemies of the United States of America in close combat. I am a guardian of freedom and the American way of life.
I am an American soldier.
Like most Europeans-and an awful lot of Americans-I was quite unaware of this ferocious "code" for US armed forces, although it's not hard to see how it fits in with Bush's rantings. I'm tempted to point this out in detail, but my American veteran did so with such eloquence in his letter to me that the response should come in his words: "The Warrior Creed," he wrote, "allows no end to any conflict accept total destruction of the 'enemy'. It allows no defeat ... and does not allow one ever to stop fighting (lending itself to the idea of the 'long war'). It says nothing about following orders, it says nothing about obeying laws or showing restraint. It says nothing about dishonourable actions ...".
Each day now, I come across new examples of American military cruelty in Iraq and Afgha-nistan. Here, for example, is Army Specialist Tony Lagouranis, part of an American mobile interrogation team working with US marines, interviewed by Amy Goodman on the American Democracy Now! programme describing a 2004 operation in Babel, outside Baghdad: "Every time Force Recon went on a raid, they would bring back prisoners who were bruised, with broken bones, sometimes with burns. They were pretty brutal to these guys. And I would ask the prisoners what happened, how they received these wounds. And they would tell me that it was after their capture, while they were subdued, while they were handcuffed and they were being questioned by the Force Recon Marines ... One guy was forced to sit on an exhaust pipe of a Humvee ... he had a giant blister, third-degree burns on the back of his leg."
Lagouranis, whose story is powerfully recalled in Goodman's new book, Static, reported this brutality to a Marine major and a colonel-lawyer from the US Judge Advocate General's Office. "But they just wouldn't listen, you know? They wanted numbers. They wanted numbers of terrorists apprehended ... so they could brief that to the general."
The stories of barbarity grow by the week, sometimes by the day. In Canada, an American military deserter appealed for refugee status and a serving comrade gave evidence that when US forces saw babies lying in the road in Fallujah-outrageously, it appears, insurgents sometimes placed them there to force the Americans to halt and face ambush-they were under orders to drive over the children without stopping.
Which is what happens when you always "place the mission first" whenyou are going to "destroy"-rather than defeat-your enemies. As my American vet put it: "the activities in American military prisons and the hundreds of reported incidents against civilians in Iraq, Afghanistan and elsewhere are not aberrations-they are part of what the US military, according to the ethos, is intended to be. Many other armies behave in a worse fashion than the US Army. But those armies don't claim to be the "good guys" ... I think we need... a military composed of soldiers, not warriors."
Winston Churchill understood military honour. "In defeat, defiance," he advised Britons in the Second World War. "In victory, magnanimity." Not any more. According to George W Bush this week "the safety of America depends on the outcome of the battle in the streets of Baghdad" because we are only in the "early hours of this struggle between tyranny and freedom".
I suppose, in the end, we are supposed to lead the 21st century into a shining age of human liberty in the dungeons of "black" prisons, under the fists of US Marines, on the exhaust pipes of Humvees. We are warriors, we are Samurai. We draw the sword. We will destroy. Which is exactly what Osama bin Laden said.
Robert Fisk is a reporter for The Independent and author of Pity the Nation. He is also a contributor to CounterPunch's collection, The Politics of Anti-Semitism. Fisk's new book is The Conquest of the Middle East.
http://www.counterpunch.org/fisk09162006.html
CounterPunch:
Papal Insults
A Bavarian Provocation
By TARIQ ALI
September 16 / 17, 2006
Was Benedict's most recent provocation accidental or deliberate? The Bavarian is a razor-sharp reactionary cleric. A man who organises his own succession to the Papacy with a ruthless purge of potential dissidents and supervises the selection of Cardinals with great care leaves little to chance.
I think he knew what he was saying and why.
Choosing a quote from Manuel II Paleologos, not the most intelligent of the Byzantine rulers, was somewhat disingenuous, especially on the eve of a visit to Turkey. He could have found more effective quotes and closer to home. Perhaps it was his unique tribute to Oriana Fallaci.
Perhaps.
The Muslim world with two of its countries-Iraq and Afghanistan- directly occupied by Western troops does not need to be reminded of the language of the Crusades. In a neo-liberal world suffering from environmental degradation, poverty, hunger, repression, a 'planet of slums' (in the graphic phrase of Mike Davis), the Pope chooses to insult the founder of a rival faith.
The reaction in the Muslim world was predictable, but depressingly insufficient. Islamic civilization cannot be reduced to the power of the sword. It was the vital bridge between the Ancient world and the European Renaissance. It was the Catholic Church that declared War on Islam in the Iberian Peninsula and Sicily. Mass expulsions, killings, forced conversions and a vicious Inquisition to police the cleansed Europe and the reformist Protestant enemy.
The fury against 'heretics' led to the burning of Cathar villages in Southern France. Jews and Protestants alike were granted refuge by the Ottoman Empire, a refuge they would have been denied had Istanbul remained Constantinople. 'Slaves, obey your human masters.For Christ is the real master you serve' said Paul (Colossians 3: 22-24) in establishing a collaborationist tradition which fell on its knees before wealth and power and which reached its apogee during the Second World War where the leadership of the Church collaborated with fascism and did not speak up against the judeocide or the butchery on the Eastern Front. Islam does not need pacifist lessons from this Church.
Violence was and is not the prerogative of any single religion as the continuing Israeli occupation of Palestine demonstrates. During the Cold War the Vatican, with rare exceptions, supported the imperial wars. Both sides were blessed during the First and Second World wars; the US Cardinal Spellman was a leading warrior in the battles to destroy Communism during the Korean and Vietnam wars. The Vatican later punished the liberation theologists and peasant-priests in Latin America. Some were excommunicated.
Not all Christians joined in the crusades old and new. When Pope Urban launched the crusades the Norman king of Sicily refused to send troops in which Sicilian Muslims would be compelled to fight against Muslims in the East. His son, Roger II, refused to back the Second Crusade. In doing so they showed more courage than the leaders of contemporary Italy, who are only too willing to join the imperial crusades against the Muslim world.
'To make sure of being right in all things', said the founder of the Jesuits, Ignatius Loyola, 'we ought always to hold to the principle that the white I see I should believe to be black if the hierarchical church were so to rule.'
Today most Catholic prelates in the West (including the Bavarian in the Vatican) and politicians of Centre-Left/Right worship the real Pope who lives in the White House and tells them when black is white.
Amen.
Tariq Ali is author of the recently released Street Fighting Years (new edition) and, with David Barsamian, Speaking of Empires & Resistance. He can be reached at: tariq.ali3@btinternet.com
http://www.counterpunch.org/
il manifesto:
L'Africa fa i conti con le sue mega-città
Marie-Luise Gumuchain
John Ochieng ha perso il conto delle persone che bussano alla porta della sua baracca di una stanza nello slum di Kibera, nella capitale kenyana Nairobi, cercando un posto dove stare. Attirati dal sogno di una vita migliore, centinaia arrivano ogni mese in questo ammasso di baracche dai tetti di lamiera che già ospita 600mila persone in un corridoio di tre chilometri, probabilmente il più grande slum africano. «A volte quattro persone in una sola settimana bussano alla mia porta chiedendo se ho spazio o se so di qualche altro posto», dice Ochieng, 26 anni, macellaio, che in quella baracca vive con la moglie e quattro figli. Ogni giorno nuove persone arrivano portando i propri averi, traversano rigagnoli di fogna e montagne di spazzatura e si sistemano in qualche modo. Molti resteranno senza elettricità, dovranno pagare per qualche secchio d'acqua e useranno buche straripanti come latrine. Slums come Kibera solo il volto orribile dell'urbanizzazione dell'Africa, le cui città sono sopraffatte dalla crisi degli alloggi, dalla criminalità, e da infrastrutture inadeguate alla crescita tumultuosa di questi anni. «Negli anni '70 Nairobi era una città verde. Era tranquilla, andare in giro era sicuro, non c'erano buche per strada né mercati selvaggi», spiega un libraio che si presenta come Chan.
La pianificazione urbana sarà al centro di un vertice di 5 giorni, la settimana prossima a Nairobi: «Africities», organizzato dall'unione Panafricana dei governi locali in collaborazione con il governo del Kenya, metterà a confronto enti locali, imprenditoria pubblica e privata, forze sociali, Ong, università, sui problemi delle grandi città del continente. Anche perché il trend di crescita continua. Mentre alcune grandi città hanno visto l'immigrazione stabilizzarsi, molte continuano a ricevere ondate di persone che abbandonano la tradizionale agricoltura di sussistenza a causa di conflitti, o degrado ambientale, o per il collasso delle strutture familiari provocato dall'Aids. Secondo le Nazioni unite l'Africa subsahariana, dove il 72% della popolazione urbana vive in slums (baraccopoli, bidonvilles), ha il più alto tasso di crescita urbana al mondo. A questo ritmo si calcola che nel 2030 oltre metà degli africani vivranno in città - una popolazione urbana superiore a quella di tutta Europa.
Lagos, la metropoli nigeriana, con una popolazione stimata di 17 milioni di abitanti, è la più grande città africana e continua a crescere tra il 6 e l'8 percento annuo: ovvero, 600mila persone ogni anno si aggiungono alla popolazione urbana, provenienti da un po' tutta la Nigeria e dall'intera Africa occidentale. Ma la sordida realtà della città fa beffe del motto ufficiale di Lagos, «terra di acquatico splendore». L'intera città ha appena 67 camion funzionanti per la raccolta della spazzatura. Poliziotti e gangster gestiscono checkpoints dove estorcono soldi ai passanti, e la vista di cadaveri scaricati in pubblico è frequente. Milioni di abitanti di Lagos cucinano su fuochi di legna, non hanno acqua corrente e trascorrono le serate nell'oscurità in mancanza di luce elettrica. Circa due terzi degli abitanti della città vivono in estrema povertà in un centinaio di slum, ma anche gli alloggi per i benestanti sono scarsi, non tengono dietro alla domanda. Così i danarosi expat arrivano a pagare 60mila dollari all'anno per un appartamento di tre stanze nelle zone residenziali del centro.
Anche Algeri, capitale di un relativamente ricco paese produttore di petrolio, ha penuria di spazio, con i suoi oltre tre milioni di persone e un milione di automobili; anni di conflitto in terno nelle zone rurali e suburbane hanno spinto milioni di persone a emigrare nelle città sulla costa. «Nessuno può essere orgoglioso di Algeri», dice il ministro dell'interno Noureddine Yazid Zerhouni, lamentando il declino della città famosa per i suoi edifici bianchissimi sulla collina, una vista che conserva ancora un po' del suo antico fascino. «Con i problemi dell'acqua, la nettezza urbana, i trasporti, l'insicurezza... con tutto questo, non possiamo dirci una delle capitali mondiali». Certo, ci sono in vista investimenti che potrebbero migliorare le cose. Ad Algeri alcune società straniere hanno firmato contratti per costruire una linea di tram e la prima metropolitana. All'altro capo del continente la capitale angolana Luanda, costruita per una popolazione di circa 400mila persone, ora conta 5 milioni di abitanti, in gran parte arrivati dalle regioni rurali a causa della guerra civile durata 27 anni e finita solo nel 2002. «A Luanda pochissimi sono tornati indietro nelle campagne (alla fine della guerra), e pochissimi lo faranno», dice l'architetto Allan Cain.
* Reuter
http://www.ilmanifesto.it/Quotidiano-archivio/16-Settembre-2006/art69.html
Jeune Afrique: La traversée d'Oumar Diallo,
un cauchemar de douze jours vers les Canaries
GUINÉE - 13 septembre 2006 – AFP
Oumar Farougou Diallo,un Guinéen de 17 ans, garde un souvenir terrifié de sa traversée de douze jours vers l'archipel espagnol des Canaries. Sa mère a vendu ses vaches pour lui payer le voyage et une vie meilleure. Elle compte maintenant sur lui pour survivre.
"Je préfère mourir que de reprendre un jour la mer", lache ce jeune homme longiligne dans un français approximatif
Cela fait 20 jours qu'il a quitté la Guinée-Conakry, une ancienne colonie française d'Afrique de l'Ouest dont les habitants gagnent moins d'un euro par jour en moyenne.
"Au bout de trois jours de voyage, le riz était déjà terminé. Il y avait de l'essence dans l'eau", raconte Oumar dans la cour du centre pour mineurs de La Esperanza, sur l'île de Ténérife, entouré d'un groupe d'adolescents qui écoutent en silence le récit de leur propre cauchemar.
"On devait rester immobiles et essayer de dormir malgré le soleil, les moustiques et l'eau salée qui nous brûlait les yeux et les lèvres".
Avant de partir, Oumar était pourtant sûr de lui. Certains de ses amis avaient déjà atteint la terre promise des Canaries, comme les quelque 24.000 autres clandestins africains qui ont gagné l'archipel depuis janvier.
Au début sa mère ne voulait pas qu'il parte. Elle a finalement cédé. Pour payer le voyage de son fils, elle a donc vendu ses vaches, la seule ressource qui lui permettait de nourrir ses six enfants.
La vente des vaches, sur le marché de Koubia, à l'est de la Guinée Conakry, a à peine suffi à rassembler les 500.000 francs CFA de la traversée (environ 760 euros) exigés par les réseaux de passeurs.
Le voyage a été "mon pire cauchemar", avoue le jeune homme, la voix tremblante d'émotion.
"Un matin, alors que la pirogue à moteur déviait vers le Maroc, le capitaine a dit qu'il était perdu. On s'est tous mis à pleurer. C'était le jour plus difficile de ma vie. Je me suis senti 'candidat a la mort'", confie Oumar.
"Les gens disaient 'c'est fini! c'est fini!'. J'étais furieux contre la mer, de voir tant d'océan autour de nous".
Cette nuit-là, un compagnon de traversée, "nerveux" depuis le départ, est tombé dans l'eau et s'est noyé. "On a demandé au capitaine d'aller le chercher, mais il n'a pas voulu".
L'embarcation était pilotée par cinq "capitaines" qui se relayaient, aidés d'un GPS (système de navigation par satellite) et d'une boussole.
La pirogue a finalement été interceptée le 18 août par les autorités espagnoles qui l'ont remorquée jusqu'au port de Las Palmas de Gran Canaria. "Une fois à terre, tout tanguait. Je ne comprenais rien", explique Oumar.
Aux Canaries, il sera prix en charge jusqu'à sa majorité. Au centre La Esperanza, où il cohabite avec une centaine de jeunes, il apprend l'espagnol et le jardinage.
"J'aimerais être mécanicien, électricien, faire des métiers, du bon travail", poursuit Oumar, au bord des larmes: il vient d'apprendre qu'il était difficile de trouver un emploi en Espagne sans papiers.
"Mon père est mort au Libéria pendant la guerre il y a trois ans. Maintenant je dois travailler pour envoyer de l'argent à ma mère. C'est un engagement".
Il y a quelques jours, il a enfin pu téléphoner à sa famille: "Ils ont tous pleuré. Ils n'avaient pas de nouvelles et ils pensaient que la pirogue avait fait naufrage".
"Ma mère m'a demandé si j'étais en bonne santé, raconte-t-il. Je lui ai dit que 'oui' mais qu'elle dise à mon grand frère de ne pas venir".
© Jeuneafrique.com 2006
http://www.jeuneafrique.com/jeune_afrique/article_depeche.asp?
art_cle=AFP11456latraseiran0
Página/12:
El arte de repartir
Por Santiago O’Donnell
Domingo, 17 de Septiembre de 2006
Llegan noticias de conflictos mineros a lo largo de la cordillera que atraviesa América latina. Hablo con el reconocido sociólogo Manuel Antonio Garretón, de la Universidad de Chile, y le pregunto por qué.
“Hay una idea general de que al asumir gobiernos progresistas que prometieron redistribuir ingresos durante sus campañas electorales, es lógico que aumenten las demandas en ese sentido. Pero eso no explica por qué el sector minero en particular se encuentra en esa situación”, arrancó Garretón. Tiene razón. Un estudio del sociólogo Francisco Zapata, de El Colegio de México, cita varios trabajos que demuestran que, al menos en Chile, Bolivia y Perú, los conflictos mineros superan en cantidad de huelgas, huelguistas y días perdidos a los de otros sectores. Garretón tiene una explicación: “En primer lugar hay que distinguir dos tipos de conflictos. Por un lado están las industrias mineras que cierran o disminuyen su producción porque quedan al margen de los flujos de la economía mundial y de la evolución tecnológica, como puede ser el sector minero acá, en Chile, o como se ve en las películas que sucedió con las minas de carbón en Inglaterra”.
Paradójicamente, explica Garretón, el problema que generan las industrias mineras decadentes empalidece ante el desafío político que surge de las minas que andan bien.
“Los sectores de punta como los que explotan el oro o el cobre han crecido mucho en los últimos años y están mostrando su importancia estratégica, que se expresa en el alza de precios de estos commodities en la economía mundial. En Chile, en Bolivia, y en otros países mineros de la región con una tradición minera muy arraigada, estos trabajadores de punta ocupan el lugar que los obreros metalúrgicos ocupan en los países desarrollados. Por su importancia para la economía, son trabajadores que cuentan con privilegios relativos con respecto a otros sectores rezagados. El cobre dejará en Chile un excedente no contemplado de 10.000 millones de dólares en los próximos años. Es absolutamente normal que los trabajadores reclamen una parte de estos excedentes, si bien el alto precio no resulta de un mayor trabajo por parte de ellos sino de circunstancias del mercado mundial.”
Acá empiezan los problemas. ¿Un gobierno progresista debe favorecer a los sectores más pujantes para motorizar la economía, o a los más postergados para crear una sociedad más justa? ¿Debe ceder ante las presiones de los gremios más poderosos, o mantenerse firme y preservar recursos para ayudar a los más débiles?
“El talón de Aquiles del desarrollo económico, más que la pobreza, es la desigualdad –contesta el politólogo–. El problema para los gobiernos, cuando se trata de sectores de la minería que andan bien, es que compensarlos favorablemente crea la sensación de injusticia en sectores de menor productividad. Como que se está compensando a los que están en mejor situación. Puede ser visto por los gobiernos progresistas como que si se cede ante los sectores privilegiados, hay que ceder en todos los campos”.
¿Entonces qué hacemos, profesor Garretón?
“Yo creo que es muy difícil negar en estas situaciones un relativo mejoramiento a los sectores de crecimiento como el minero, sobre todo porque los trabajadores perciben que las mayores ganancias se las llevan los sectores propietarios, o las grandes transnacionales, o un Estado en el cual no existe un control que garantice la transparencia. Pero la única manera de que esto no profundice las desigualdades es que se haga en el marco de un programa general de distribución de la riqueza. Si es visto como la compensación para cierto sector y no una redistribución general, estos gobiernos pueden pasar a la historia no por un gran avance en contra de la desigualdad, sino como prisioneros de ciertos sectores favorecidos por determinado ciclo.”
© 2000-2006 www.pagina12.com.ar|República Argentina|Todos los Derechos Reservados
http://www.pagina12.com.ar/diario/elmundo/4-73112-2006-09-17.html
Página/12:
Fidel, una segunda llamada
EL LIDER CUBANO CAMINO Y SIGUIO LA CUMBRE
Por Miguel Bonasso
Desde La Habana, Domingo, 17 de Septiembre de 2006
Primero hubo un telefonazo a las seis de la mañana del que recién me enteré tres horas más tarde.
Y entonces se produjo la segunda llamada.
–Oye, ¿qué pasó con la nota? ¡Tremenda repercusión tuvo! –dice la voz afónica por el auricular. Y agrega con ironía–: Me han dicho que te has convertido en la estrella de la Cumbre, que todos quieren hablar contigo.
Espera unos segundos y luego agrega con su proverbial delicadeza:
–¿Qué tienes que hacer hoy? ¿No quieres que nos veamos un rato? Quiero felicitarte personalmente por la nota y por lo que dijiste en la Cumbre de los Quince.
Alude al reportaje que este diario publicó en exclusiva el jueves último y al discurso que pronuncié ese mismo día en representación del presidente Néstor Kirchner. Aunque lo conozco bien, me cuesta creer lo que me dice el Comandante. Verlo de nuevo en dos días, escucharlo contento como si no fuera Fidel Castro sino un principiante al que lo entrevistan por primera vez. Además, tiene razón en lo que a repercusión se refiere: me he pasado los últimos dos días dando entrevistas sobre la entrevista. Y recibiendo el saludo y la curiosidad de cientos de delegados a la Cumbre del Movimiento de No Alineados. Me han preguntado por la salud de Fidel príncipes con turbante, mandatarios de los tres continentes, ministros, embajadores del Tercer Mundo y del Primero. También me han interrogado con los ojos aguados de emoción muchos cubanos humildes y anónimos: esos que te abren una puerta o te sirven un mojito. “¿En serio lo vio bien al Comandante? ¿Se pone de pie sin ayuda? ¿Camina? ¿Recuperó algunos kilos?”
En la sesión inaugural de la XIV Cumbre del Mnoal lo han declarado presidente, aunque no se haya presentado en el moderno y funcional salón principal del Palacio de Convenciones. Igual está detrás, anegando la Cumbre con su ausencia-presencia. Recibiendo en su habitación de convaleciente a Kofi Annan, a Abdelaziz Bouteflika, a Evo Morales, a Hugo Chávez o al autor de esta nota.
Todo el mundo conserva en la retina las fotos del reportaje que publicó en exclusiva Página/12 el jueves último y reprodujeron centenares de medios en el mundo entero.
Pero también el mundo entero puede ver que las cosas siguen funcionando aquí como un mecanismo de relojería: la Cumbre está muy bien organizada (no es fácil albergar a decenas de jefes de Estado con sus séquitos y custodias) y la ceremonia de inauguración ha sido sobria y elocuente. Raúl Castro, que ejerce la presidencia provisoria tanto en Cuba como en la Cumbre, ha pronunciado un discurso que combina bien la coyuntura con la historia, restituyéndole al Movimiento de los No Alineados sus objetivos iniciales. Horas después, su hermano mayor lo elogiará ante este cronista: “Estuvo muy bien el discurso de Raúl. Fue muy preciso”.
Se produce la segunda vuelta: el pasillo, el travelling, los hombres de blanco, la señora amable que me introduce al sancta santorum donde se recupera el líder cubano.
–Hoy vamos a caminar –dice Fidel Castro a modo de bienvenida.
Y caminamos por la habitación frente a la lente de la cámara de Richard, uno de sus jóvenes colaboradores. El Comandante explica: “Hay que desentumecerse”.
Volvemos a sentarnos y me confiesa con los ojos brillantes de alegría: “Estos días tengo un hambre terrible. Como de todo”.
Me doy cuenta de que me he convertido sin proponérmelo en una suerte de portavoz de sus avances en la recuperación. Hablamos como siempre de todo lo divino y lo humano y me pide que mande un saludo especial para los lectores de Página/12. Le cuento que el capítulo 24 del libro Cien horas con Fidel aparece hoy como suplemento especial del diario y se alegra mucho de este anticipo. Dos días antes, como recordarán los lectores, me había confesado que la corrección y enriquecimiento de esas memorias, recopiladas en cien horas de reportaje por el periodista Ignacio Ramonet, había constituido su ocupación esencial y trascendente en las horas crueles y peligrosas que sucedieron a la operación.
Ahora que las sombras quedaron atrás, las Cien horas con Fidel se constituyen en un libro imponente, que los jefes de Estado del Mnoal recibieron ayer como regalo en una edición de lujo.
Muchos me han preguntado en estos días si el Comandante, cuando concluya su recuperación, volverá a ser el de antes (el infatigable) o se concentrará exclusivamente en algunas tareas estratégicas, para preservar una salud que valoran como si fuera propia millones de personas. Es una pregunta difícil de contestar. Y por eso ni siquiera se la formulé.
Sólo puedo contar lo que vi a partir de esta segunda llamada: le interesa lo que pasa en Venezuela, en Bolivia, en México, en Argentina, en la Cumbre y sus pasillos. Escucha con atención los cables que lee su secretario Carlitos Valenciaga, pide que lo comuniquen con éste o con aquél. Y se despide, de pie, con un abrazo, porque Evo está al llegar.
La verdad, me cuesta imaginarlo en reposo.
© 2000-2006 www.pagina12.com.ar|República Argentina|Todos los Derechos Reservados
http://www.pagina12.com.ar/diario/elmundo/4-73115-2006-09-17.html
Página/12:
La sordera de Dios
Por José Pablo Feinmann
Domingo, 17 de Septiembre de 2006
Hay frases que a uno lo toman por sorpresa. Sobre todo cuando, distraído, saliendo apenas de las cavernas del sueño, abre el diario de la mañana y echa una errática mirada sobre los títulos que saltan hacia uno, atrapándolo, jamás dejándolo indiferente, hasta lograr por fin lo inevitable: arruinarle el desayuno. Pero uno tiene que enterarse, estar medianamente al día, ser, entonces, esa clase de burgués matutino que Nietzsche odiaba, el lector de periódicos. El día no era un día como cualquier otro: era, precisamente, el 11 de septiembre, se cumplían cinco años de la cuestión de las Torres Gemelas. Yo esperaba leer todo tipo de noticias al respecto. Ya la noche anterior me había dormido preparado para semejante cosa: “Atención”, me dije, “porque mañana no va a ver una sola página del diario que no hable de las Torres”. No: uno vive equivocándose y he aquí que, una vez más, me equivoqué, dado que una noticia aguardaba por mí con una carga inequívoca de inesperaneidad, si se me permite el neologismo. La noticia, en grandes letras, hablaba de la visita del Papa, personaje al que suelo seguir en sus avatares porque el problema de Dios no sólo me interesa, sino que me angustia, a su Alemania natal, donde, lejanamente ya, había sido, en su sorprendida inocencia, un tierno jovenzuelo de las juventudes de Mefistófeles. Será por eso, conjeturan algunos, que individuos no identificados, pero en un indubitable acto de barbarie digno de esas lejanas juventudes que cobijaron al que era entonces, sin lugar a dudas, como dijéramos, “un tierno jovenzuelo”, arrojaron pintura contra las paredes de la fachada blanca de la casa natal del Papa, injuriándolas y, de paso, injuriándolo. El, es decir, el Papa, no se había enterado aún de esto cuando habló ante una inmensa muchedumbre, más que numerosa, o sea, numerosísima, es decir: multitudinaria, y el Papa, más que hablar, dio una misa y, en esa misa, dijo lo que yo leí al despertar, porque dijo: “En estos tiempos sufrimos una sordera ante Dios”, frase que fue traducida por el titulero del diario del siguiente modo: “El Papa dijo que Occidente sufre una sordera ante Dios”, y motivó que yo, por fin, viera claras las angustias teológicas de tantos creyentes desgarrados, de tantos hombres que quieren creer y no pueden, de, por ejemplo, Ingmar Bergman, que ha vivido trastornado por el “silencio de Dios”, o de Woody Allen, que ha dicho “Dios no juega a los dados con el Universo, juega a las escondidas”, equivocados ellos, todos sufriendo inútilmente, ya que eso que consideraban una enorme Ausencia, la Ausencia de la Palabra Divina, no lo era tal: no hay silencio de Dios, hay sordera de Occidente. Basta de búsquedas metafísicas. Lo que hace falta es un buen otorrinolaringólogo.
El Papa habló ante 250.000 fieles. Si alguien cree que el tono ciertamente satírico de las anteriores líneas expresa mi liviandad ante estas cuestiones, se equivoca. Son terriblemente graves para mí. La Humanidad está sola y sólo sabe destruirse a sí misma. Dostoyevski, un gran pensador religioso, decía: “Los hombres están solos en la tierra, ésta es su tragedia”. La llamada “fe del carbonero” pareciera ser la única posible: una fe que no pregunta, que no cuestiona, que se entrega abierta y pura. Pero el hombre de la modernidad perdió la pureza. El tema del “silencio de Dios” es el tema de su ausencia. Su ausencia, sobre todo, ante los horrores de la Historia. Primo Levi dijo: “Existe Auschwitz; no existe Dios”.
El Papa plantea sólo una parte de la cuestión. Es cierto que Occidente está sordo ante Dios. Si lo está es porque ya se acostumbró a Su silencio, no espera nada de Dios. La secularización arrasa con todas las creencias y el sistema capitalista de producción, que no cesa de crear mercancías y necesidades, propone nuevos dioses todos los días. Hay, sin embargo, en la nación-líder de Occidente una mezcla explosiva de secularización y fanatismo religioso. Estados Unidos se asume como un país fuertemente cristiano que, si está en guerra, lo está por defender los valores fundacionales de Occidente. La recurrencia a Dios es constante en el discurso bélico norteamericano. Incluso frases ya instaladas como “Eje del Mal” o “Ellos o nosotros” tienen rasgos de fundamentalismo cristiano que se creían propios del islamismo. No, y éste sería un tema para Borges: tanto se odian los enemigos enfrentados en la guerra post Torres Gemelas que sus rasgos terminan por asimilarse, se dibujan con las mismas líneas. Bush (y cuando digo “Bush” no me refiero sólo a ese mostrenco texano que pone la cara en la mayoría de las fotografías, sino a la maquinaria bélica que se mueve detrás de él) es capaz de ser, a la vez, secular y fundamentalista. Los intereses seculares (por decirlo con nitidez: el petróleo) se expresan con lenguaje fundamentalista. Estados Unidos no dice: “Queremos todo el petróleo del Islam”. Dice: “Dios nos acompaña en esta guerra”. Bush, que tiene la cualidad de sobreactuar: algo que, en rigor, clarifica las cuestiones, ha dicho: “Dios no es neutral”. También el líder iraní que lo enfrenta opina lo mismo. Opina que “Dios no es neutral”. Si tanto Estados Unidos como Irán creen que “Dios no es neutral” es porque, cada uno de ellos, cree que Dios apoya su causa. Ante el silencio de Dios, los fundamentalistas hablan en su nombre. Aquí, el Papa debiera ver que, más que la sordera de Occidente, lo que se necesita es una palabra de Dios, para desempatar. Cosa que sería difícil para Dios: lo obligaría a elegir. Pero, ¿no es acaso –insistamos en esto– el silencio de Dios el que permite a los fundamentalistas adjudicarse tan fácilmente su representatividad? Si –al menos– se temiera, si sólo se temiera alguna posible palabra de Dios nadie se diría con tanta liviandad su representante. Ocurre que –Nietzsche tiene razón– Dios ha muerto y esto permite que los guerreros digan, con irresponsabilidad, representarlo. No se trata, como dijo por ahí Slavoj Zizek, que Dios no ha muerto sino que vive en la fe fanática de los fundamentalismos belicistas. No: Dios ha muerto. Si hubiera algún temor (y muchas veces el hombre temió a Dios, pero hace mucho tiempo, cuando aún podía sentir Su cercanía) nadie hablaría en su nombre. ¿Cómo pueden los presidentes Bush y Ahmadinejad decir que tienen de su lado a Dios y actúan inspirados por El? Porque no temen que nadie los des-autorice. Están tan acostumbrados al silencio, a la ausencia, al hondo desinterés de Dios que lo invocan sin temor. Se lo adjudica Bush. Se lo adjudica Ahmadinejad, quien, además, está autorizado por el ayatolá Alí Khamenei, que viste túnicas y un turbante negro por el cual debe entenderse que es descendiente del profeta Mahoma. No quiero simplificar lo que dijo Zizek: hay un exceso de Dios en los fundamentalismos, pero ese exceso se dibuja sobre una carencia de Dios. Los hombres se exceden en invocar a Dios y en decir representarlo porque no temen ni su palabra ni, mucho menos, su ira. Cada uno de ellos es la ira de Dios. La ira de Dios no es la de Dios, sino la de los fundamentalismos belicistas, el norteamericano, el islámico.
Lo que le sucedió al Papa es como para meter miedo. Durante su viaje a Alemania dijo (y esto me sorprendió) que la sordera de Occidente preocupaba al Islam y a las poblaciones de Asia y Africa, las cuales estaban asustadas “ante un Occidente que excluye a Dios de la visión del hombre”. Luego dijo que la racionalidad occidental había desplazado a Dios del centro de las preocupaciones de los hombres; de donde vemos que la tan vapuleada razón occidental (toda la filosofía –desde Nietzsche y Heidegger hasta Jacques Derrida– es, ya larga y abrumadoramente, un ataque a la razón occidental, causante de todos los males) sería la que impide que Occidente no sólo sea sordo ante Dios, sino que preocupe a Oriente por esa sordera. Un buen gesto del Papa, que debía viajar al Islam al día siguiente. Pero el aquí bienintencionado Benedicto XVI parece que dijo alguna incorrección sobre Mahoma y la violencia y se acabó todo, no hay organización islámica en todo el vasto mundo que no lo considere un blasfemo de Mahoma.
El Islam tiene a Dios en todas partes. Tiene un Dios para la guerra, un Dios para orarle, y un libro, El Corán, para leer incesantemente y conocer las recompensas para los fieles y los castigos, nunca leves, para los infieles. Aquí, nosotros, hombres de la modernidad de Occidente, hombres secularizados, que, lejos de tener, como ellos, un exceso de Dios, sentimos, desde hace siglos y a través de grandes pensadores como Kierkegaard, Dostoyevski y Nietzsche, su carencia, estamos inermes. Nos cuesta entender –por más esfuerzos interculturales que hagamos– esa sobreabundancia de lo divino, que, para colmo de nuestra capacidad de compresión, se encarna en individuos concretos, en seres elegidos, en “descendientes de Mahoma” (¿ha imaginado, alguna vez, Occidente la posibilidad de un descendiente de Jesús de Nazareth?) que planean guerras y tienen proyectos nucleares para enfrentar a otros “elegidos”, que no se dirán “descendientes de Dios”, pero, en su caos bélico y destructivo interior, creen serlo. Entre tanto, en este mundo que ya no confía en la razón, que está harto de la fiesta de los instintos porque sabe que, si hay instintos, es porque el vértigo de las mercancías los despierta para vender sus productos, y entonces nos impulsa al sexo, y a las cirugías, y a la cultura fast, a la comida fast, al idiotismo fashion, a la televisión basura, al cine computarizado, al porno Internet y al vasto universo de las drogas, en este mundo, todavía, algunas almas desesperadas buscan a Dios, le rezan por las noches, lo buscan en el amor o en la opción por los enfermos y los pobres y los hambrientos, y no son ellos los que están sordos, el que está sordo es Dios, el que no escucha es Dios, y el entero mundo marcha al acaso, a la deriva, y en el cercano horizonte está la tormenta, la peor de todas.
© 2000-2006 www.pagina12.com.ar|República Argentina|Todos los Derechos Reservados
http://www.pagina12.com.ar/diario/contratapa/13-73119-2006-09-17.html
The Independent:
GM: The cover-up
Revealed: Government food watchdog gave green light to supermarkets to sell 'illegal' genetically modified rice
By Geoffrey Lean, Environment Editor
Published: 17 September 2006
Britain's official food safety watchdog has privately told supermarkets that it will not stop them selling an illegal GM rice to the public.
Documents seen by this newspaper show that the Food Standards Agency assured major manufacturers and retailers 10 days ago that it would not make them withdraw the rice - at the same time as it was telling the public it should not be allowed to go on sale.
The environmental group Friends of the Earth has already found GM material in two types of own-brand rice sold in Morrisons supermarkets - in direct contravention of food safety regulations - and believes the GM rice is likely to be widespread throughout Britain.
But the agency has not carried out its own tests for modified rice in products on the market, and has not instructed retailers to do so. It says that the rice is safe, but some scientists disagree.
Last night, Peter Ainsworth, the shadow Environment Secretary, described the agency's conduct as "a massive scandal" and said it "smelt of a cover-up". He said he would be asking for an official investigation into whether the agency had broken the law.
Legally, no GM material is allowed to go on sale in Britain or any other EU country. But last month the Bush administration admitted it had found a modified material, which had not even received safety clearance in the US, in long-grain rice intended for export.
The unauthorised rice, which is listed as LLRICE601, was developed by Bayer CropScience to tolerate weedkiller, and tested on US farms between 1998 and 2001. The company decided not to market it. Nevertheless it has turned up widely in US rice, possibly because pollen from the tested rice spread to conventional crops. The European Commission says that it has been found in 33 of 162 samples of rice imported from the US.
The EC last month banned any further imports unless they could be proved to be clear of the GM rice, and instructed governments to test products already on the market to make sure that they did not contain it.
The European health and consumer protection commissioner, Markos Kyprianou, said it should not be allowed to enter the food chain "in any circumstances".
Two big Swiss supermarket chains have already banned all US long-grain rice from sale.
The Food Standards Agency publicly announced that "the presence of this GM material in rice on sale in the UK is illegal under European food law", adding: "Food retailers are responsible for ensuring the food they sell does not contain unauthorised GM material."
But on 5 September, a senior agency official, Claire Baynton, privately met major retailers and food manufacturers. According to records of the meeting seen by The Independent on Sunday, she said the agency did not expect companies to trace products and withdraw them.
The agency says it told the companies at the meeting that it was their responsibility to ensure that the food they sold did not contain GM material, but that it would not "require" them to test for it or withdraw products if found.
It says that it has "not carried out tests of products on the market" and "has not issued any instructions to retailers" to do so. The agency says that modified rice does not present a safety concern and is advising people who may have US rice at home to continue to eat it. But some scientists say it could give cause for "concern over its potential allergenicity".
Friends of the Earth has found GM material in two samples of Morrisons American long-grain rice and American long-grain brown rice, although it was not able to verify that it was LLRICE601. Morrisons accepts that selling any GM rice is illegal. It cleared its shelves of the products "as a precautionary measure" immediately after being informed of the findings.
Clare Oxborrow, GM campaigner for Friends of the Earth, said: "The discovery of illegal GM ingredients is very worrying. The Food Standards Agency has failed to take action to identify and withdraw contaminated food, so it is likely that more illegal rice will reach the plates of unsuspecting customers.
"Instead of down-playing this contamination incident, and delaying action, the agency should be taking urgent steps to prevent illegal GM rice from being sold in our shops."
© 2006 Independent News and Media Limited
http://news.independent.co.uk/environment/article1604094.ece
The Observer:
Blood simple
Four months ago, the hostility between Sao Paulo's police and gangs erupted into violence - the result was open warfare. Tom Phillips reports from a city caught in a spiral of terror
Sunday September 17, 2006
The taxi driver squints uncomfortably. 'It's like fire there,' he warns ominously, as I pass him the address on the eastern limits of Sao Paulo.
We cut through block after block of grimy, graffiti-clad housing. Ahead, ragged shantytowns cling to the hilltops; behind us a trail of abandonment stretches back towards the city centre, in the form of empty warehouses and cracked windows. As we begin the descent towards our final destination, the driver looks nervously into his rear-view mirror. A police car's flashing siren ushers us to a standstill.
Under the gaze of their Taurus revolvers we are hauled out of the vehicle, told to place our hands on the car roof and given an invasive frisk down. When we are finally sent on our way, after a 10-minute interrogation, the driver is apologetic. 'I had to pull over,' he mumbles. 'If you don't, they open fire.'
Welcome to the periferia of Sao Paulo; the impoverished outskirts of one of the world's largest cities, where hundreds of thousands of immigrants who came to the megalopolis in search of gold-paved streets have been abandoned to their own dismal fate.
We have come to Jardim Santo Andre to meet 23-year-old Maria Dinauci de Lima, until four months ago a happily married mother of two from Ceara, in the northeast. When Sao Paulo exploded into violence in May, temporarily bringing her adoptive city to a standstill, she found herself at the epicentre of the storm.
The driver drops us at the entrance to the shantytown where she lives, alongside a concrete, pollution-stained housing estate. Reluctant to go any further, he directs us vaguely down a series of dirt tracks which lead out on to a sprawling urban wasteland. The area was once a landfill site, but now houses thousands of immigrants fleeing poverty in the northeast. Multicoloured political propaganda clings to the drab houses, makeshift constructions of plywood and cardboard. To our right a fetid swamp dribbles through the community, a muddy stream of excrement. It has taken us just over two hours to get here from the glamorous centre of Sao Paulo, but the contrast is so great it seems as if we have made the journey from Liverpool Street to the West Bank.
Maria is changing the nappy of her four-month-old son when we arrive. She climbs the concrete steps that lead to her small house and directs us into her sparsely decorated bedroom. A neatly made double bed and two cots are her only furniture apart from a new TV, from which President Lula - himself a northeastern immigrant to Sao Paulo - is waxing lyrical about his attempts to aid Brazil's dispossessed.
'I didn't even know what was going on in Sao Paulo,' she remembers, seemingly confused by our interest in her husband's death. 'I just heard shots and everyone here started shutting their doors. I closed mine, too, I was so scared. But I never thought it had to do with him.'
She soon found out from neighbours that, in fact, it did. Maria left her house in panic and headed for the hospital, where she was barely able to recognise her 29-year-old husband, Lindomar Lino da Silva, the owner of a hairdressing salon. He had been shot twice in the forehead, at point-blank range.
'When I got there,' she says, her sobs mixing with the unknowing giggles of her two children, 'he was still warm.'
Sao Paulo has, in just over four months, been transformed into a city of fear. The four-day offensive in May by local gangsters temporarily turned one of the world's great financial capitals into a virtual ghost town. Armed criminals went on the rampage in both the city and the interior of the state, touting automatic rifles and machine guns, hunting down policemen and prison officers and hurling petrol bombs at public buildings. Hundreds of buses were set alight, leaving the streets virtually empty and the transport system in chaos.
In a matter of days, 23 law enforcement officers were gunned down across the state of Sao Paulo - more than in the whole of 2005. And when the attacks began to subside on 15 May, the police reaction began.
Human rights groups have since demanded a thorough investigation into police actions after nearly 200 people died in suspicious circumstances that week. Many believe that a systematic revenge campaign was sparked by the attacks - that, stunned by the assault on their colleagues, members of Sao Paulo's police force took to the streets with the intention of exterminating the new enemy.
A few days after the attacks I am confronted by a furious policeman at the entrance to one Sao Paulo prison unit.
'All you journalists do is defend the vagabundos [crooks],' he shouts, with thick gobbets of spit flying from his mouth. 'People go on and on about masked men killing people - what else can we do?' he asks, in heavy Sao Paulo slang. 'Tem que matar mesmo, meu!' ('You've got to kill them, bruv.')
The violence was unprecedented in scale, even for a city like Sao Paulo, renowned for its high crime rate. So bloody were the attacks that politicians, media outlets and academics alike have, in its wake, begun describing the start of an 'urban guerrilla war'. It is a drastic and problematic conclusion - yet one which is in many ways borne out by numerical comparisons with official war zones. During the recent 34-day conflict between Israel and Hizbollah, just over 1,000 civilians are thought to have been killed in Lebanon. In Iraq, 117 British soldiers have been killed since the country was invaded in 2003, while 23 have been killed since the beginning of August in Afghanistan. In Sao Paulo, the figures are no less startling. According to coroners' reports, at the height of May's violence at least 492 people died of gunshot wounds in Sao Paulo state in just over a week.
Among the dead was Maria's husband Lindomar, who one neighbour (too scared to make any type of statement) believes he saw being executed by a military policeman. The distinction between war and organised crime means little to Maria, perched on the bed she once shared with her husband. 'All I know,' she says, with an air of resignation, 'is that I'm on my own now and I have to raise these two alone.'
To understand the recent wave of violence in Brazil's economic capital you must visit the so-called 'Park of Monsters'. Located in Taubate - an unremarkable town in the interior of Sao Paulo best known until now for its manufacturing industry - the Parque dos Monstros is the birthplace of the group behind May's attacks: a crumbling sky-blue prison complex, number 746 Marechal Deodoro Avenue. These days the tiled roof of a picturesque white chapel peeks over the barbed-wire perimeter fence, offering little hint of the bloodletting from which Brazil's most feared crime group was born.
It was mid-morning on 31 August 1993 and, here at Taubate's Casa de Custodio (Custody Centre), a now legendary football match between two rival prison gangs was about to commence. The atmosphere was tense as the convicts limbered up in the jail yard.
Even before the whistle was blown, the slaughter began. Geleiao, the hulk-like captain of a team known as the Primeiro Comando da Capital (First Command of the Capital, or PCC) grabbed the head of an opponent and snapped his neck, killing him almost instantly. His team-mate Cesinha pulled out a cut-throat razor and slit the throats of several others. In the ensuing fight, more lives were lost.
With the dusty pitch now clogged with blood, the prisoners looked for a way to defend themselves against reprisals from the prison guards. Their solution was safety in numbers. When the guards arrived the remaining prisoners grouped together behind Geleiao and his team mates, fearful of the inevitable punishment.
The PCC - a sprawling criminal association that claims to fight for the rights of Sao Paulo's prisoners - was born. Geleiao and Cesinha, who came to be known as the group's fundadores (founders), had taken the first steps in creating a Frankenstein-like criminal faction which, 13 years on, would control most of the prison system in Sao Paulo as well as large tracts of the city. It took its name from Geleiao's football team, the First Command of the Capital.
For the following eight years the PCC remained relatively unknown in Brazil, despite gradually taking root in much of Sao Paulo's prison system, through its brutal rule of law. Those who signed up were spared. Those who resisted were often subjected to the most brutal beatings or simply killed.
Then in 2001, the so-called 'mega-rebellions' began. It was 8 February and simultaneous riots broke out in 20 jails across the state. When the dust settled at least 20 prisoners had lost their lives - beheaded, burnt or mutilated, as members of rival factions such as the PCC and the lesser-known Seita Satanica (Satanic Sect), jostled for dominance.
Even then, Brazilian authorities shied away from admitting the existence of what is now described as Brazil's largest, most dangerous crime faction - so powerful, in fact, that its leadership are said to enjoy personal visits from high-class prostitutes, even behind bars.
In 2002, the director of DEIC, Sao Paulo's organised crime squad, declared that the group had been almost completely dismantled by the police. 'We have the PCC crying, to our surprise,' he told reporters. By May this year, however, it was the security forces, not the PCC, who were in tatters.
News of the attacks spread like wildfire across Brazil, stamped on to the front page of every newspaper and with rolling, 24-hour television news reports providing frantic updates about what the media branded 'Brazilian terrorism'. Parts of Sao Paulo lay completely abandoned, with a 95 per cent reduction in traffic in some of its busiest thoroughfares as residents took refuge in their own homes and bus companies pulled their fleets off the streets. It was as if a hurricane had battered the city, leaving its stunned population stranded indoors, watching the violence unfold on television, accompanied by the kind of cinematic, spine-chilling soundtrack which the country's sensationalist news programmes so enjoy.
Virtually overnight the PCC became a household name. Its leader, Marcos Willians Herbas Camacho, or Marcola, a convicted bank robber under lock and key in the Presidente Bernardes maximum security prison, 590km from Sao Paulo, became a South American bogeyman enveloped in a thick mist of fear and mystery.
Television screens flashed up black and the first hypnotic whirls of the Chemical Brothers' 'Block Rockin' Beats' kicked in. Rapidly, the camera panned across a prison yard before a grisly sequence of images was thrust on to the screen: first a decapitated head sandwiched between two bloodied ankles. Then dozens of other corpses, each with the vague glaze of death stamped on their face. Finally came more mutilated bodies and gun-wielding gang members, waving PCC flags from the rooftops of burning prison units.
I have been invited to watch a short film produced by members of the police force about the PCC. Family viewing it is not. For five minutes the film takes you on a Dantesque tour of the Sao Paulo prison system, introducing you to its inmates - both the living and the dead.
The PCC's reputation as a ruthless, bloodthirsty mob is not without basis. Frequent shows of mind-boggling brutality mean the group is famed, above all else, for its muscle. But the PCC is far more sophisticated than many government officials have been prepared to admit: a highly organised criminal network, made up of prisoners and drug traffickers, it even has a team of lawyers, as well as tentacles that stretch right across South America. Its sprawling, Mafia-like chain of command makes dismantling the group a complex task. Orders come from inside Sao Paulo's decaying prison system, where the omnipresence of mobile phones and corrupt lawyers means the ruling council is able to issue instructions even while under guard.
Outside, a second tier of faction leaders known as torres (towers) act as the representatives of the PCC's incarcerated bosses, controlling their lucrative drug-distribution points which are scattered across the state of Sao Paulo. Beneath them come the pilotos (pilots), who co-ordinate the activities of the group's 'soldiers'. Finally, at the bottom of the pile, are the so-called 'Bin Ladens' - criminals who owe favours to the faction and can be called up as a kind of reserve force for specific missions.
The PCC's expertise too often gives it the edge over the authorities. Among the party's collaborators are master criminals such as the Chilean kidnapper Mauricio Norambuena, also being held in Presidente Bernardes's 160-cell maximum-security compound.
The PCC has no lack of funds or weapons. Investigators believe its 'business interests' (principally drug trafficking and lucrative robberies or kidnappings) stretch well into the millions. It is thought to have been involved in the snatch of R$165m (£40m) from a bank in the northeastern port of Fortaleza in August 2005, while earlier this month Paraguayan police seized 591 machine guns and rifles on the border with Brazil, which they believe were partly destined for the PCC in Sao Paulo.
The PCC's sheer size has given it a virtual monopoly on drug trafficking within the prison system. Some estimates say that around 80 per cent of Sao Paulo's prison population either sympathise with or are full-blown members of the organisation, paying a monthly subscription fee of around R$150 (£38). Such prisoners see membership as a form of protection from prison guards and rival factions and, perhaps, a way of fighting for better jail conditions.
Yet while the PCC undoubtedly basks in its reputation for violence, it is also keen to paint itself as a revolutionary guerrilla group, modelling itself on the struggles of Che Guevara. It has its own set of 16 'laws' and is divided into independent cells that can be activated by jailed leaders with one simple phone call. Those who have met the group's well-spoken leader, Marcola, describe him as an intelligent, chillingly poetic man, whose reading list is said to include Sun Tzu's The Art of War, Machiavelli's The Prince and Paulo Coelho's The Alchemist
And like all guerrilla groups worth their salt, the PCC even boasts its own marketing department, which seeks to portray the group not as a criminal faction but as either a human rights group fighting to improve the lives of Sao Paulo's 142,000-strong prison population, or a rebel army leading a revolucao dos pobres (revolution of the poor).
One man accused of being at the forefront of this marketing campaign is Ivan Raymondi Barbosa, a former police investigator who himself spent five months in a Sao Paulo jail (he was implicated in an international smuggling ring) and who now heads an NGO called Nova Ordem. Nova Ordem, he claims, is engaged in the battle against torture and violence in the state's hellish prison system. Authorities, however, are investigating its links to the PCC. Brazil's media describes Nova Ordem as the political wing of the faction, something Barbosa rejects. 'Nova Ordem is here is to defend the whole prison population,' he says. 'It is for everyone - not just the PCC.'
What is clear is that Nova Ordem carries considerable clout with what is described as Brazil's largest criminal organisation. Back in May, when the first round of PCC attacks were halted, one of the key negotiators was Iracema Vasciaveo, Nova Ordem's legal representative, who was flown into Presidente Bernardes with high-ranking members of the Sao Paulo government to meet with Marcola.
We meet Barbosa at the group's HQ in a smart office block in Sao Paulo. He is charming, talkative and clad in thick gold jewellery (one stamped with the group's initials, NO).
'We want to draw attention to corruption and physical abuse in prisons,' he says. 'The abuse is so reminiscent of concentration camps that, in slang, prisons are referred to as Alemanha, or "Germany".'
He clicks open an archive of photos on his desktop and begins a gory tour through a series of images that he says were smuggled out of high-security prisons using mobile phones. First a deformed, swollen hand appears, with a thick line of stitches running across it. The guards, Barbosa claims, set dogs on the prisoner. Next appears a man's back, with a series of bullet wounds. Again, he says, the guards were responsible.
'They [the prisoners] aren't asking for beef with cheese and tomato sauce, but they do want dignity,' says Barbosa, who is said to have come into contact with Marcola during his time as a prisoner at the Avare prison.
Outwardly at least, both Nova Ordem and the PCC claim to fight such human rights abuses. Their respective political agendas - against prison violence, abusive searches of visiting relatives and solitary confinement - are almost identical, as are their catchphrases.
The PCC - in a nod to Rio de Janeiro drug faction the Comando Vermelho, in many ways the grandfather of Brazilian organised crime - employs the strapline Paz, justica e liberdade (Peace, justice and liberty). Nova Ordem, on the other hand, uses the red, white and blue colours of the French revolution on its eagle-shaped logo. It is, Barbosa explains, an allusion to the revolution's famous battle cry: 'Liberte, egalite, fraternite'.
On the other side of town, in the library of Sao Paulo's public prosecutor, 42-year-old Marcio Christino laughs off the idea that the PCC has anything to do with peace, justice or liberty. A playful, chubby-faced attorney, Christino has been doing battle with the PCC since 2001 - during which time he has come into regular contact with Marcola. He views the idea that the PCC has a genuine political agenda as pure fantasy. 'This is an image they want to sell to justify what they do,' he says.
In trying to secure convictions against members, Christino claims to have heard more than 30,000 hours of phone-tap conversations between PCC operatives.
'There isn't one minute, not even 30 seconds of any talk about prison conditions. They talk about four things: coke - how much came in, how much went out; death, money and sex.'
Rather than an attempt to form an alternative, leftist state, he sees the attacks as a reaction against police action designed to crack down on the group's criminal enterprises.
'When they feel the police are squeezing too much they react,' he says.
Christino's understanding of the PCC is as impressive as his contact book. He has recorded a four-hour video interview with Geleiao (now a sworn enemy of Marcola), and is in charge of a vast archive of evidence against the faction. Yet despite his scorn for the group, he does concede that Brazilian jails - under-funded, under-staffed and often massively overcrowded - provide the PCC with the ideal recruiting ground.
Overcrowding is perhaps the biggest problem. A recent Human Rights Watch report pointed out that: 'Severe overcrowding and institutionalised violence - such as beatings, torture and even summary executions - are chronic and widespread in Brazilian prisons.'
Faced with the barbarity of both criminal factions and prison guards, many offenders look to the PCC for support - sometimes even before they are sent to jail. Aware that sooner or later they are likely to go to prison, many teenage offenders decide it is safer to go in with at least some connection to the group.
With little sign of prison reform and with drugs and arms continuing to pour through Brazil's sparsely policed borders (a recent report claimed that if Brazil's entire border protection force was to line up along its western frontier, each officer would have to cover 10km) many in Sao Paulo see only one possible solution: defence. Desperate to protect itself from this previously little-known enemy, Sao Paulo's wealthy are silently stockpiling an arsenal of their own.
It is 30 August 2006, the eve of the anniversary of the foundation of the PCC, and a group of six policemen, armed with rifles, huddle nervously inside the entrance to our hotel. Sao Paulo police have warned of another 'mega attack' to mark the faction's birthday.
As we drive into the city that evening, through a series of heavily manned police road blockades, the sky is illuminated with the red flicker of sirens. We have been told to expect a repeat of May's violence. Instead, what we find is a security showcase.
In an air-conditioned conference centre on the south side of Sao Paulo, business executives and security experts are busy hobnobbing over cappuccinos and shortbread, surrounded by stall after stall of cutting-edge security technology. The International Security Conference and Exposition is a roll call of the world's top protection companies. The North American EADS Defence and Security is there promoting 'global responses' to 'homeland security' threats, while Bosch has also put in an appearance, peddling top-of-the-range surveillance monitors to, among others, the Brazilian Security Secretary. Sao Paulo's multi-million pound defence industry has boomed since the beginning of the year, with organisers claiming the city will spend more than $1bn protecting itself in 2006. The reason?
'In one word,' deadpans Mauricio dos Santos, a Bosch sales representative, 'the PCC.'
The fear that has taken hold of Sao Paulo is not hard to grasp. Threats of new attacks appear in the Brazilian media on an almost daily basis. Sometimes they come in the form of reports of 'police intelligence' indicating the chance of further violence. Occasionally, however, they come directly from the PCC's very own propaganda division.
On 12 August, members of the faction kidnapped 30-year-old Guilherme Portanova, a television reporter from Globo, Brazil's largest media network. His captors demanded the television station transmit a video and, at 12.30pm the following day, the channel yielded. Normal programming was interrupted as a hooded spokesperson for the gang appeared on screen, against a white backdrop daubed with the phrase 'Peace and Justice' in black spray paint.
'The Brazilian penal system is in truth a true human deposit where human beings are thrown as if they were animals,' the man said, quoting almost word for word a recent human rights report on the state of Rio de Janeiro's youth detention centres, themselves dominated by other drug factions. 'All we want is to not be massacred and oppressed. We want measures to be taken, since we are not prepared to remain with our arms crossed with what is happening in the prison system.'
Finally, as the four-minute video drew to a close, the PCC's representative issued a stark warning: 'Our fight is with the governors and the police,' he said. 'Don't mess with our families and we won't mess with yours ...'
Several weeks later another journalist - this time from a rival broadcaster - was badly assaulted in Sao Paulo. At the time, press reports made no link to the PCC, but The Observer understands that police believe this was another attempt to terrorise the country's media and force the PCC's message on to the airwaves once again.
Back in Barbosa's smoke-filled office, I ask if and when he believes Sao Paulo will see more PCC attacks. He furrows his brow at the question and lets out a dismissive chuckle, as though the 'if' part of the question has completely missed the point.
'Today, tomorrow, in half an hour,' he says. 'It is uncontrollable.'
Several weeks later I am handed a copy of the PCC's most recent piece of propaganda, a tatty manifesto on A4 paper being distributed a few blocks from my hotel by a group of homeless people.
'The First Command of the Capital notifies in the name of the truth that ... we will give our lives if necessary,' brags its opening line. 'We will go to the final consequences in this war for justice.' Further down it adds: 'We are in favour of peace but we also have the disposition for war.'
'What is the PCC going to do next?' asks Barbosa. 'I don't know. I'm scared of a civil war.'
http://observer.guardian.co.uk/magazine/story/0,,1872185,00.html
posted by attilav at 19:59
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