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“My Favourite Things”: Manos

My favourite TV show - Those who know me, probably will understand why I find this one difficult to answer but considering the situation I shall go with Years and Years from the BBC 

My favourite place to go - I am reluctant to say because it is my fortress of solitude, but it is an island somewhere in the Ionian sea 

My favourite city - Thessaloniki, the second largest city in Greece and a place that is in my heart and in my memories 

My favourite thing to do in my free time - I like to read, usually fiction with a drink and some music on the background; classical music ideally but jazz is also good.   

My favourite athlete/sports personality - who came up with these questions? I had to think long and hard on this and I am going with Greg Louganis.  An inspiration to many  

My favourite actor - Charlie Chaplin in The Great Dictator his speech at the end remains one of the most potent antifascist speeches.  Ironic considering that he made his career in silent movies!    

My favourite author - Milan Kundera the author of several of my favourite books, The Unbearable Lightness of Being, Immortality and Life is Elsewhere.  Thoughtful novels full of very complex ideas.      

My favourite drink - Lemon juice, ideally harvested springtime from an Ionian island; a couple of spoonfuls of sugar and some iced water and plenty of freshly squeezed lemon juice.    

My favourite food - Spinach and cheese filo pie 

My favourite place to eat - A little taverna by the sea; there is a little place, that my mind wonders to; the food may not gourmet but its honest, homemade food.  

I like people who - speak their mind, are honest and have a positive outlook in life   

I don’t like it when people - lie, gossip and pretend to know everything   

My favourite book - Eichmann in Jerusalem an excellent study on the "banality of evil" a very interesting criminological idea 

My favourite book character - elementary, Sherlock Holmes 

My favourite film - The Life of Brian this is the movie that evokes old blasphemy laws because of its content.  A good demonstration of how art can reflect on life and call institutions to heel

My favourite poem - Ithaca by Kavafis, a wonderful journey through the eyes of the cosmopolitan Greek  

My favourite artist/band- David Bowie, I cannot choose a particular era; definitely a incredibly creative mind.     

My favourite song - Bitter Sweet Symphony 

My favourite art - The Creation of Adam by Michelangelo 

My favourite person from history - Marie Curie so much more than a woman, a scientist, a wife.  An enduring example to scientific reasoning  

Forgotten

HMS Hood

It is now nearly two weeks since Remembrance Day and reading Paula’s blog.  Whilst understanding and agreeing with much of the sentiment of the blog, I must confess I have been somewhat torn between the critical viewpoint presented and the narrative that we owe the very freedoms we enjoy to those that served in the second world war.  When I say served, I don’t necessarily mean those just in the armed services, but all the people involved in the war effort.  The reason for the war doesn’t need to be rehearsed here nor do the atrocities committed but it doesn’t hurt to reflect on the sacrifices made by those involved.

My grandad, now deceased, joined the Royal Navy as a 16-year-old in the early 1930s.  It was a job and an opportunity to see the world, war was not something he thought about, little was he to know that a few years after that he would be at the forefront of the conflict. He rarely talked about the war, there were few if any good memories, only memories of carnage, fear, death and loss.  He was posted as missing in action and found some 6 months later in hospital in Ireland, he’d been found floating around in the Irish Sea.  I never did find out how this came about. He had feelings of guilt resultant of watching a ship he was supposed to have been on, go down with all hands, many of them his friends.  Fate decreed that he was late for duty and had to embark on the next ship leaving port. He described the bitter cold of the Artic runs and the Kamikaze nightmare where planes suddenly dived indiscriminately onto ships, with devastating effect. He had half of his stomach removed because of injury which had a major impact on his health throughout the rest of his life. He once described to me how the whole thing was dehumanised, he was injured so of no use, until he was fit again.  He was just a number, to be posted on one ship or another. He swerved on numerous ships throughout the war. He had medals, and even one for bravery, where he battled in a blazing engine room to pull out his shipmates. When he died I found the medals in the garden shed, no pride of place in the house, nothing glorious or romantic about war. And yet as he would say, he was one of the lucky ones.

My grandad and many like him are responsible for my resolution that I will always use my vote.  I do this in the knowledge that the freedom to be able to continue to vote in any way I like was hard won.  I’m not sure that my grandad really thought that he was fighting for any freedom, he was just part of the war effort to defeat the Nazis. But it is the idea that people made sacrifices in the war so that we could enjoy the freedoms that we have that is a somewhat romantic notion that I have held onto.  Alongside this is the idea that the war effort and the sacrifices made set Britain aside, declaring that we would stand up for democracy, freedom and human rights.

But as I juxtapose these romantic notions against reality, I begin to wonder what the purpose of the conflict was.  Instead of standing up for freedom and human rights, our ‘Great Britain’ is prepared to get into bed with and do business with the worst despots in the world. Happy to do business with China, even though they incarcerate up to a million people such as the Uygurs and other Muslims in so called ‘re-education camps’, bend over backwards to climb into bed with the United States of America even though the president is happy to espouse the shooting of unarmed migrating civilians and conveniently play down or ignore Saudi Arabia’s desolation of the Yemini people and murder of political opponents.

In the clamber to reinforce and maintain nationalistic interests and gain political advantage our government and many like it in the west have forgotten why the war time sacrifices were made.  Remembrance should not just be about those that died or sacrificed so much, it should be a time to reflect on why.

Are we really free?

freedom

This year the American Society of Criminology conference (Theme: Institutions, Cultures and Crime) is in Atlanta, GA a city famous for a number of things; Mitchell’s novel, (1936), Gone with the Wind and the home of both Coca-Cola, and CNN. More importantly the city is the birthplace and sometime home of Dr Martin Luther King Jr and played a pivotal role in the Civil Rights Movement. Throughout the city there are reminders of King’s legacy, from street names to schools and of course, The King Center for Non-Violent Social Change.

This week @manosdaskalou and I visited the Center for Civil and Human Rights, opened in 2014 with the aim of connecting the American Civil Rights Movement, to broader global claims for Human Rights. A venue like this is an obvious draw for criminologists, keen to explore these issues from an international perspective. Furthermore, such museums engender debate and discussion around complex questions; such as what it means to be free; individually and collectively, can a country be described as free and why individuals and societies commit atrocities.

According to a large-scale map housed within the Center the world is divided up into countries which are free, partially free and not free. The USA, the UK and large swathes of what we would recognise as the western world are designated free. Other countries such as Turkey and Bolivia are classified as partially free, whilst Russia and Nigeria are not free. Poor Tonga receives no classification at all. This all looks very scientific and makes for a graphic illustration of areas of the world deemed problematic, but by who or what? There is no information explaining how different countries were categorised or the criteria upon which decisions were made. Even more striking in the next gallery is a verbatim quotation from Walter Cronkite (journalist, 1916-2009) which insists that ‘There is no such thing as a little freedom. Either you are all free, or you are not free.’ Unfortunately, these wise words do not appear to have been heeded when preparing the map.

Similarly, another gallery is divided into offenders and victims. In the first half is a police line-up containing a number of dictators, including Hitler, Pol Pot and Idi Amin suggesting that bad things can only happen in dictatorships. But what about genocide in Rwanda (just one example), where there is no obvious “bad guy” on which to pin blame? In the other half are interactive panels devoted to individuals chosen on the grounds of their characteristics (perceived or otherwise). By selecting characteristics such LGBT, female, migrant or refugee, visitors can read the narratives of individuals who have been subjected to such regimes. This idea is predicated on expanding human empathy, by reading these narratives we can understand that these people aren’t so different to us.

Museums such as the Center for Civil and Human Rights pose many more questions than they can answer. Their very presence demonstrates the importance of understanding these complex questions, whilst the displays and exhibits demonstrate a worldview, which visitors may or may not accept. More importantly, these provide a starting point, a nudge toward a dialogue which is empathetic and (potentially) focused toward social justice. As long as visitors recognise that nudge long after they have left the Center, taking the ideas and arguments further, through reading, thinking and discussion, there is much to be hopeful about.

In the words of Martin Luther King Jr (in his 1963, Letter from Birmingham Jail):

‘Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly’

 

 

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