KOSOVO (2)
In my blog of 13 June, I asked whether Kosovo could now be regarded as a state (I actually used the word "country"), when more than 60 other countries had already recognised it as such, but a fair minority - including politically important ones such as Russia, China, India and Spain - had not. I also said that the International Court of Justice had been asked by the United Nations to give its opinion on the matter.
The ICJ's ruling, issued on 22 July, was widely expected, because of the political circumstances, to fudge the issue. It did; though not perhaps in the way anticipated. By ten to four, the court gave a clear ruling that Kosovo's unilateral declaration of independence did not violate international law. That was a huge boost to the Kosovans and a punch in the stomach for Serbia, the country of which Kosovo is/was a part, and the driving force behind the request to the ICJ.
However, that is not the end of the story. As the court itself noted, a declaration of independence does not of itself confer the status of a state. As nationalism took hold in former empires, the eighteenth, nineteenth and early twentieth centuries were full of such declarations; "sometimes a declaration resulted in the creation of a new State, at others it did not". Because the question at issue was a narrow one ("Is the unilateral declaration of independence by the Provisional Institutions of Self-Government of Kosovo in accordance with international law?"), there was no need for the ICJ to come to a view on whether Kosovo had, as a matter of law, achieved statehood. Nor was it necessary to come to a view on whether Kosovo had had the right to secede from Serbia; again, it had simply not been asked.
This result may be legally satisfying (though note that since four judges voted no, even the narrow point was not 100% clear-cut), but doesn't really take things much further forward. Serbia now needs to decide what to do next, bearing in mind a) that a new question to the ICJ would take time to get through the United Nations, and even longer to be decided by the court, b) that as time goes on, the reality on the ground (i.e. independence) becomes more and more entrenched, and c) that Serbia would like to join the EU, 22 of whose 27 members have already recognised Kosovo. Not surprisingly, the Serbs have gone into a huddle to think about things.
And my original riddle, namely "when is a country not a country?" remains unanswered.
Walter Blotscher
Sunday, 8 August 2010
Saturday, 7 August 2010
OLIVE OIL AND VIRGINS
I have always been somewhat baffled by the concept of extra virgin olive oil. I thought that "virgin" was one of those words, like "pregnant", that was either/or; you can't be half pregnant, or sort-of pregnant. I know that a lot of people, notably politicians, have started saying "pretty unique", but that is just bad English.
When I was at school, there were a lot of girls who said that they were virgins, but I can't remember anybody ever saying that they were "extra virgin". As I say, I am baffled.
Walter Blotscher
I have always been somewhat baffled by the concept of extra virgin olive oil. I thought that "virgin" was one of those words, like "pregnant", that was either/or; you can't be half pregnant, or sort-of pregnant. I know that a lot of people, notably politicians, have started saying "pretty unique", but that is just bad English.
When I was at school, there were a lot of girls who said that they were virgins, but I can't remember anybody ever saying that they were "extra virgin". As I say, I am baffled.
Walter Blotscher
Friday, 6 August 2010
MAIZE AND AVOCADOS
Maize is not indigenous to Africa, but has become the staple food for a wide swathe of the east and south of the continent, including Tanzania. The cob is dried, and the seeds ground into a flour, which is then used to make a thick porridge (called ugali in kiswahili). This is then eaten with vegetables, fish, meat, or even milk.
In Denmark, on the other hand, maize is a low-value crop. Apart from some small sales of "corn on the cob", the field is simply harvested in the early autumn, ground up (plant and cob together) by the harvester, and used as cattle feed.
Avacados are not indigenous to Northern Europe, but have become available in a wide swathe of Scandinavia, including Denmark. The fruit is cut in half, the oil-rich stone in the middle is extracted, and the flesh is either sliced or mashed. This is then eaten with salad, tomatoes, onions or spicy meat.
In Tanzania, on the other hand, avocados are a low-value crop. There are so many trees and so many fruits per tree, that apart from small sales in and around the big cities, the fruit is simply left to drop on the ground, and get eaten as cattle feed.
In this globalised world, there ought to be opportunities here for a "win-win" deal. If only it were so simple.
Walter Blotscher
Maize is not indigenous to Africa, but has become the staple food for a wide swathe of the east and south of the continent, including Tanzania. The cob is dried, and the seeds ground into a flour, which is then used to make a thick porridge (called ugali in kiswahili). This is then eaten with vegetables, fish, meat, or even milk.
In Denmark, on the other hand, maize is a low-value crop. Apart from some small sales of "corn on the cob", the field is simply harvested in the early autumn, ground up (plant and cob together) by the harvester, and used as cattle feed.
Avacados are not indigenous to Northern Europe, but have become available in a wide swathe of Scandinavia, including Denmark. The fruit is cut in half, the oil-rich stone in the middle is extracted, and the flesh is either sliced or mashed. This is then eaten with salad, tomatoes, onions or spicy meat.
In Tanzania, on the other hand, avocados are a low-value crop. There are so many trees and so many fruits per tree, that apart from small sales in and around the big cities, the fruit is simply left to drop on the ground, and get eaten as cattle feed.
In this globalised world, there ought to be opportunities here for a "win-win" deal. If only it were so simple.
Walter Blotscher
Thursday, 5 August 2010
SUPERFREAKONOMICS AND CLIMATE CHANGE (3)
Superfreakonomics is the sequel to Stephen Levitt's and Stephen Dubner's highly successful earlier collaboration Freakonomics, a quirky look at aspects of everyday life from an economist's viewpoint.
I have to admit that I was slightly disappointed. Part of that was inevitable, I think; the first book was totally new, so "more of the same", even if the specific examples are different, is never going to have that same shock impact.
The other reason was a rather long section on climate change, which - according to them - we could solve both now and cheaply. The argument runs as follows. We know from previous volcanic explosions that the earth's temperature falls in the immediate aftermath, We also know why; sulphur dioxide gets into the stratosphere (i.e. above the atmosphere), and that does something to the sun's rays. So, if we ourselves could get sulphur dioxide into the stratosphere, then we could cool down the planet. But this we can do; by building chimney-like balloon structures on top of existing power stations, which emit a lot of the stuff. This would not be cheap; but it would be a fraction of what other people are saying needs to be spent. More importantly, it could be done today.
I am afraid I am experiencing a growing sense of climate change fatigue. I accept Levitt's and Dubner's argument - backed up by their other examples - that solutions to seemingly intractable human problems are often right there in front of our noses, and surprisingly cheap. I also accept their premises both that human behaviour is the most difficult thing in the world to change, and that it is all the more difficult when there are vested interests trying to stop any such change. Nevertheless, part of me keeps whispering "if it was really that easy, wouldn't someone else have picked up the ball and run with it?"
Normally I would come to my own view on such things. But the problem with climate change, for me at any rate, is that the data are vast, opaque, and often conflicting; in short, a bit like the climate itself. To take but one example. July, which was hot here in Denmark, was in fact the fourth hottest July since records began 150 years ago, 18,7 degrees celsius on average instead of the long-term average of 15,6 degrees celsius. A sign of warming? Well, yes and no. It is true that the hottest July on record was 2006, so two of the top five have been during the past 5 years; on the other hand, the other three were 1994, 1941 and as long ago as 1901. So what does that say?
It's all very confusing.
Walter Blotscher
Superfreakonomics is the sequel to Stephen Levitt's and Stephen Dubner's highly successful earlier collaboration Freakonomics, a quirky look at aspects of everyday life from an economist's viewpoint.
I have to admit that I was slightly disappointed. Part of that was inevitable, I think; the first book was totally new, so "more of the same", even if the specific examples are different, is never going to have that same shock impact.
The other reason was a rather long section on climate change, which - according to them - we could solve both now and cheaply. The argument runs as follows. We know from previous volcanic explosions that the earth's temperature falls in the immediate aftermath, We also know why; sulphur dioxide gets into the stratosphere (i.e. above the atmosphere), and that does something to the sun's rays. So, if we ourselves could get sulphur dioxide into the stratosphere, then we could cool down the planet. But this we can do; by building chimney-like balloon structures on top of existing power stations, which emit a lot of the stuff. This would not be cheap; but it would be a fraction of what other people are saying needs to be spent. More importantly, it could be done today.
I am afraid I am experiencing a growing sense of climate change fatigue. I accept Levitt's and Dubner's argument - backed up by their other examples - that solutions to seemingly intractable human problems are often right there in front of our noses, and surprisingly cheap. I also accept their premises both that human behaviour is the most difficult thing in the world to change, and that it is all the more difficult when there are vested interests trying to stop any such change. Nevertheless, part of me keeps whispering "if it was really that easy, wouldn't someone else have picked up the ball and run with it?"
Normally I would come to my own view on such things. But the problem with climate change, for me at any rate, is that the data are vast, opaque, and often conflicting; in short, a bit like the climate itself. To take but one example. July, which was hot here in Denmark, was in fact the fourth hottest July since records began 150 years ago, 18,7 degrees celsius on average instead of the long-term average of 15,6 degrees celsius. A sign of warming? Well, yes and no. It is true that the hottest July on record was 2006, so two of the top five have been during the past 5 years; on the other hand, the other three were 1994, 1941 and as long ago as 1901. So what does that say?
It's all very confusing.
Walter Blotscher
Wednesday, 4 August 2010
CROQUET
Croquet is a great game. Officially it is a simple matter of knocking large wooden balls through narrow metal hoops in a specified order. Unofficially - and very much like chess - it is a game of great subtlety and tactics, where the object is to totally destroy your opponent while trying to be as polite as possible.
I played a lot over the weekend, since my godson's father (an old university friend of mine) has a very nice court on a lawn outside his house. Said friend is normally a mild, unprepossessing sort of chap. But put a croquet mallet in his hand and he quickly becomes a tyrant. Poison drips from his tongue as he politely roquets you off into the henhouse, he chuckles evilly as you miss a simple shot through the hoop, you can feel the hostility oozing out of his summer jacket from the other side of the court. The smile that lit up his face as he played his winning shot into the post was pure Peter Mandelson.
Or maybe not? Perhaps he was just a well-behaved man playing a friendly game with his visitor, the smile was one of simple pleasure, and the above attributes are in fact what I felt during the match. Mmm. Maybe it's time I went back to badminton ....
Walter Blotscher
Croquet is a great game. Officially it is a simple matter of knocking large wooden balls through narrow metal hoops in a specified order. Unofficially - and very much like chess - it is a game of great subtlety and tactics, where the object is to totally destroy your opponent while trying to be as polite as possible.
I played a lot over the weekend, since my godson's father (an old university friend of mine) has a very nice court on a lawn outside his house. Said friend is normally a mild, unprepossessing sort of chap. But put a croquet mallet in his hand and he quickly becomes a tyrant. Poison drips from his tongue as he politely roquets you off into the henhouse, he chuckles evilly as you miss a simple shot through the hoop, you can feel the hostility oozing out of his summer jacket from the other side of the court. The smile that lit up his face as he played his winning shot into the post was pure Peter Mandelson.
Or maybe not? Perhaps he was just a well-behaved man playing a friendly game with his visitor, the smile was one of simple pleasure, and the above attributes are in fact what I felt during the match. Mmm. Maybe it's time I went back to badminton ....
Walter Blotscher
Tuesday, 3 August 2010
AFGHANISTAN
Readers of The President And The General (24/6/10) will know that I am not in favour of the war in Afghanistan. I mentioned one reason then, but there are really three.
First, I don't support the "we needed to get rid of the Taliban, since they were bad people" argument. The concept of regime change has no basis in international law; one country can't simply walk into another one and start killing people. True, the war in Afghanistan (unlike, say, that in Iraq) was legal, since it was specifically authorised by the U.N.Security Council, which is allowed to sanction such things. However, the problem with that doctrine is that there are lots of bad people running governments in the world today. To be consistent, we should be petitioning the Security Council to wage war on - to name but a few - Sudan, Zimbabwe, Myanmar, Iran, Cambodia and perhaps even China. That's not going to happen.
Ah, say defendants, but the Taliban were particularly heinous, since they were exporting terror to the rest of the world; and in order to protect ourselves at home, we needed to root out that terror at its source. I don't buy this. I am neither a terrorist nor a security expert. But it doesn't seem to me to be that difficult to find an alternative place from which to cook up new schemes, if my original home is stuffed full of U.S. marines. Yemen, for instance, or Somalia. Or, most pertinently, Pakistan, just across the border. David Cameron may well have ruffled the Pakistani Government's feathers while visiting India last week. But he was merely stating in public what has long been accepted in private, namely that the Taliban are well entrenched in the lawless areas of the country along the frontier with Afghanistan, and are actively supported and protected by elements within the Pakistani intelligence community.
I might perhaps have accepted the above arguments if I thought we were winning. A sort of realpolitik position; OK, we're not morally in the right, or politically consistent, but at least a small part of the world will end up a better place by the time we have finished. However, now comes my third reason. I don't think we are winning, and I don't think we can win. As I wrote earlier, the world's great powers have at various times tried to subdue Afghanistan, the British in the 19th century, the Russians in the 20th. The one thing that stands out clearly from these earlier episodes is that Afghanistan refused to be subdued, and the said great powers were forced to exit with more than just a bloody nose. If Soviet Russia, hardly a delicate flower, couldn't knock its unruly neighbour into line, how can an unwieldy coalition of disparate forces, far from home base, be expected to do better? More sophisticated weaponry might be one answer. But as Vietnam showed, more sophisticated weaponry alone cannot beat stubborn resistance, particularly if the foreign weapons are propping up a notional Government that is widely perceived as both weak and corrupt.
Indeed, the parallels with Vietnam seem to be increasing. The publication in 1971 of the Pentagon Papers, a top-secret Department of Defense analysis of the U.S.' involvement in Vietnam between 1945 and 1967, which showed inter alia that the Johnson administration had lied to both Congress and the general public about its conduct of the war, had a fundamental effect on American opinion, and is widely seen today as the catalyst that ultimately led to the U.S.' humiliating withdrawal and defeat. Last week the whistle-blowing website Wikileaks published 75,000 of an estimated 90,000 classified military records dealing with Afghanistan from 2004-9, and which had been leaked to it. I haven't read them all, by any means. But judging from the comments of people who have read more of them than me, and from the ferocious reaction of the powers-that-be in the U.S., who seem to be more interested in shooting the messenger than in hearing the message, this could be a second Pentagon Papers moment. The war is apparently not going as well as politicians would have us believe; civilian casualties are high, local public opinion is not turning in favour of the coalition, objectives are not being met. Getting out of a mess we should never (in my view) have gotten into will tax the skills of western leaders over the coming years.
Walter Blotscher
Readers of The President And The General (24/6/10) will know that I am not in favour of the war in Afghanistan. I mentioned one reason then, but there are really three.
First, I don't support the "we needed to get rid of the Taliban, since they were bad people" argument. The concept of regime change has no basis in international law; one country can't simply walk into another one and start killing people. True, the war in Afghanistan (unlike, say, that in Iraq) was legal, since it was specifically authorised by the U.N.Security Council, which is allowed to sanction such things. However, the problem with that doctrine is that there are lots of bad people running governments in the world today. To be consistent, we should be petitioning the Security Council to wage war on - to name but a few - Sudan, Zimbabwe, Myanmar, Iran, Cambodia and perhaps even China. That's not going to happen.
Ah, say defendants, but the Taliban were particularly heinous, since they were exporting terror to the rest of the world; and in order to protect ourselves at home, we needed to root out that terror at its source. I don't buy this. I am neither a terrorist nor a security expert. But it doesn't seem to me to be that difficult to find an alternative place from which to cook up new schemes, if my original home is stuffed full of U.S. marines. Yemen, for instance, or Somalia. Or, most pertinently, Pakistan, just across the border. David Cameron may well have ruffled the Pakistani Government's feathers while visiting India last week. But he was merely stating in public what has long been accepted in private, namely that the Taliban are well entrenched in the lawless areas of the country along the frontier with Afghanistan, and are actively supported and protected by elements within the Pakistani intelligence community.
I might perhaps have accepted the above arguments if I thought we were winning. A sort of realpolitik position; OK, we're not morally in the right, or politically consistent, but at least a small part of the world will end up a better place by the time we have finished. However, now comes my third reason. I don't think we are winning, and I don't think we can win. As I wrote earlier, the world's great powers have at various times tried to subdue Afghanistan, the British in the 19th century, the Russians in the 20th. The one thing that stands out clearly from these earlier episodes is that Afghanistan refused to be subdued, and the said great powers were forced to exit with more than just a bloody nose. If Soviet Russia, hardly a delicate flower, couldn't knock its unruly neighbour into line, how can an unwieldy coalition of disparate forces, far from home base, be expected to do better? More sophisticated weaponry might be one answer. But as Vietnam showed, more sophisticated weaponry alone cannot beat stubborn resistance, particularly if the foreign weapons are propping up a notional Government that is widely perceived as both weak and corrupt.
Indeed, the parallels with Vietnam seem to be increasing. The publication in 1971 of the Pentagon Papers, a top-secret Department of Defense analysis of the U.S.' involvement in Vietnam between 1945 and 1967, which showed inter alia that the Johnson administration had lied to both Congress and the general public about its conduct of the war, had a fundamental effect on American opinion, and is widely seen today as the catalyst that ultimately led to the U.S.' humiliating withdrawal and defeat. Last week the whistle-blowing website Wikileaks published 75,000 of an estimated 90,000 classified military records dealing with Afghanistan from 2004-9, and which had been leaked to it. I haven't read them all, by any means. But judging from the comments of people who have read more of them than me, and from the ferocious reaction of the powers-that-be in the U.S., who seem to be more interested in shooting the messenger than in hearing the message, this could be a second Pentagon Papers moment. The war is apparently not going as well as politicians would have us believe; civilian casualties are high, local public opinion is not turning in favour of the coalition, objectives are not being met. Getting out of a mess we should never (in my view) have gotten into will tax the skills of western leaders over the coming years.
Walter Blotscher
Monday, 2 August 2010
A SAXON CHURCH
My wife and I were in the U.K. this weekend, celebrating the 18th birthday of my godson (hence no blogging). On Saturday we visited St. Peter's church at Bradwell-on-Sea in Essex, one of the earliest church buildings in the country. It was founded by St. Cedd in 654AD on the site of an abandoned Roman fort, and still stands on its own at the end of the Blackwater Estuary, some 100 yards from the foreshore.
Saxon Britain was exposed to Christianity from two separate sources. St. Augustine came across from Rome, founded Canterbury, and then moved north and east from there; while St. Colomba sailed from Ireland to the Scottish island of Iona, from where monks moved south and east into Northumbria. Cedd was sent south from the abbey of Lindisfarne to convert the East Saxons, and brought with him the "Celtic" tradition, which stressed the importance of abbots, and which downplayed the "Roman" emphasis on dioceses, in which bishops called the shots. These differences on matters of authority were further complicated by disagreements about the date of Easter, the church's most important feast day. Cedd was one of the principal participants at the Synod of Whitby in 664AD, which decisively resolved the matter in favour of the Roman adherents, a resolution that has been unchallenged ever since.
Three things struck me as I was wandering round the church. First, it is fantastic that we still have such buildings dotted around Europe, to help us understand what happened in the past. Secondly, although many things have changed since 654AD, some surprisingly major things have not. The administrative boundries of the bishoprics of the Church of England, for instance, are not much different from that time. Canterbury and York (which took over from Lindisfarne as head of Northumbria after the Synod of Whitby) remain pre-eminent, and early foundations such as Rochester retain their status, even though they are modest towns today. So too is the system of counties, many of which would have been known to Cedd and his contemporaries; Kent, Essex, Sussex and so on.
Thirdly (and by far the biggest thing) is the sheer bravado and self-belief of men like Cedd. Sent with one companion on a dangerous voyage down the North Sea coast into a hostile, pagan land where the people probably couldn't understand him and might well have thought about killing him, he tackled the job with not much more than his natural resilience and an iron belief in the Christian message. The problems he faced were immense; that he solved them and left a monument which still stands, more than 1,300 years later, is impressive indeed.
Walter Blotscher
My wife and I were in the U.K. this weekend, celebrating the 18th birthday of my godson (hence no blogging). On Saturday we visited St. Peter's church at Bradwell-on-Sea in Essex, one of the earliest church buildings in the country. It was founded by St. Cedd in 654AD on the site of an abandoned Roman fort, and still stands on its own at the end of the Blackwater Estuary, some 100 yards from the foreshore.
Saxon Britain was exposed to Christianity from two separate sources. St. Augustine came across from Rome, founded Canterbury, and then moved north and east from there; while St. Colomba sailed from Ireland to the Scottish island of Iona, from where monks moved south and east into Northumbria. Cedd was sent south from the abbey of Lindisfarne to convert the East Saxons, and brought with him the "Celtic" tradition, which stressed the importance of abbots, and which downplayed the "Roman" emphasis on dioceses, in which bishops called the shots. These differences on matters of authority were further complicated by disagreements about the date of Easter, the church's most important feast day. Cedd was one of the principal participants at the Synod of Whitby in 664AD, which decisively resolved the matter in favour of the Roman adherents, a resolution that has been unchallenged ever since.
Three things struck me as I was wandering round the church. First, it is fantastic that we still have such buildings dotted around Europe, to help us understand what happened in the past. Secondly, although many things have changed since 654AD, some surprisingly major things have not. The administrative boundries of the bishoprics of the Church of England, for instance, are not much different from that time. Canterbury and York (which took over from Lindisfarne as head of Northumbria after the Synod of Whitby) remain pre-eminent, and early foundations such as Rochester retain their status, even though they are modest towns today. So too is the system of counties, many of which would have been known to Cedd and his contemporaries; Kent, Essex, Sussex and so on.
Thirdly (and by far the biggest thing) is the sheer bravado and self-belief of men like Cedd. Sent with one companion on a dangerous voyage down the North Sea coast into a hostile, pagan land where the people probably couldn't understand him and might well have thought about killing him, he tackled the job with not much more than his natural resilience and an iron belief in the Christian message. The problems he faced were immense; that he solved them and left a monument which still stands, more than 1,300 years later, is impressive indeed.
Walter Blotscher
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