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  • No Comment: Istanbul Election Week

    [Best_Wordpress_Gallery id=”49″ gal_title=”No Comment: Istanbul election week.”]

  • Archiving the Recent Past: the Loopline Collection

    In 2015, documentary filmmaker and Director of Loopline Film, Sé Merry Doyle, and the Irish Film Institute, received funding from the Broadcasting Authority of Ireland to archive the company’s collection. Over a twelve-month period, Sé and I fully catalogued 16mm and 35mm films, tapes in a variety of formats, and numerous audio materials. These were simultaneously preserved and digitised at IFI Film Archive.

    The Loopline Collection comprises some thirty-eight titles made over its thirty-five-year lifespan. There are full documentaries and TV series as well as previously unseen pilot materials for projects that, for one reason or another, never got the green light. These outtakes are the vein of gold running through the collection.

    The most accomplished works, in my opinion, are the full-length biographical documentaries on Irish artists: ‘John Henry Foley – Sculptor of the Empire’ (Sé Merry Doyle, 2007), ‘Patrick Kavanagh – No Man’s Fool’ (Merry Doyle, 1994), ‘James Gandon – A Life’ (Merry Doyle, 1996), and ‘Patrick Scott – Golden Boy’ (Merry Doyle, 2003).

    Later films focus on journeys made by artists across geographical and emotional frontiers: ‘John Ford – Dreaming the Quiet Man’ (Sé Merry Doyle, 2011) and ‘Jimmy Murakami – Non-Alien’ (Merry Doyle, 2014). Other productions deal with the issue of Irish Republicanism as seen from the female perspective: ‘Mairéad Farrell – an Unfinished Conversation’ (Martina Durac, 2014), ‘Kathleen Lynn – Rebel Doctor’ (Merry Doyle, 2011), and the series ‘Mna an IRA’ (Durac, 2012).

    Working-class life in Dublin is a prominent theme. The 1984 observational documentary, ‘Looking On’, focuses on efforts by artists and communal activists to highlight the inner city community’s struggle against property developers and Dublin Corporation. It’s a theme taken up and developed in later works: ‘Essie’s Last Stand’ (Liam McGrath, Merry Doyle, 1999), the elegiac ‘Alive-Alive-O – A Requiem for Dublin’ (Merry Doyle, 1999), and in rushes for a proposed documentary on the regeneration of Ballymun in 2004 – which, sadly, was never completed.

    Expressionist Art in Ireland 

    Working through the materials, I was struck by Merry Doyle’s persistent exploration of expressionist art in Ireland, a subject scarcely touched on in Irish documentary. His extraordinarily intimate portrait of artist Patrick Scott, ‘Golden Boy’, traces the development of expressionist art in Ireland since World War II.

    Similarly, ‘Lament for Patrick Ireland’ (Merry Doyle, 2010) depicts Irish-American artist Brian O’Doherty’s artistic response to the Northern Ireland conflict. Rushes for another Loopline series, ‘Soiscéal Phádraic’, look at art exhibitions by modernists Scott and Robert Ballagh.

    One of the most ambitious of several unfinished projects is the substantial footage shot between 1999 and 2007 for ‘Outside Looking In’, a planned documentary series on the impact of modernist art on Ireland. The unseen rushes focus on architects Scott-Tallon-Walker, and artists Robert Ballagh, Dorothy Cross, Michael Cullen, Louis Le Broquy, Ann Madden, Patrick Scott, Sean Scully and Corban Walker.

    ‘Outside Looking In’ also features a detailed report on the ‘Breaking Ground’ art retrospective exhibition at the Irish Museum of Modern Art (IMMA) in 2000, which includes a fascinating interview with then-Director, Declan McGonagle. There are filmed reports on Irish artists Annie Tallentire and Katie Holton representing Ireland at the Venice Biennale in 1999 and 2003; an item on video installation artist Willie Doherty; and audio of Seamus Heaney reading two poems written for his late friend, architect Robin Walker (the subject of Merry Doyle’s latest award-winning documentary, ‘Talking to My Father’).

    Watching this material, I was reminded of Merry Doyle’s passion and commitment to his projects through the years. He deserves enormous credit for putting together this significant collection of materials for future artists and art historians.

    Patrick Scott with Sé Merry Doyle.

    Dublin’s Popular Music Scene

    For those interested in the popular music scene in Dublin from the 1980s to the present, the collection contains some intriguing items. Outtakes from ‘Looking On’ feature unseen footage of 1980s bands The Atrix and Hotfoot and an early impromptu rooftop show in Sheriff Street by U2.

    U2 on Sheriff Street. Photo courtesy of Christine Bond.

    Rushes for an unedited tribute concert staged by friends and fellow musicians of guitarist Jimmy Faulkner at the Olympia Theatre in 2008 capture the full show (filmed with four cameras) with performances by Paul Brady, Christy Moore, Mary Stokes, Declan Sinnott, Noel Bridgeman, Ed Deane, Don Baker, Honor Heffernan and others. The show is compered by musical impresario Smiley Bolger and politician Eamonn McCann, and the rushes contain informative and amusing backstage interviews about the Dublin music scene from the 1970s to the millennium.

    Other musical treasures include audio rushes of the soundtracks composed for the later documentaries by multi-instrumentalist Ger Kiely and complete audio takes of traditional Dublin ballads sung by musicologist Frank Harte for ‘Alive-Alive-O’. These are records of a vibrant, but largely unexplored, Dublin music scene.

    Frosty Interview

    Going through the tapes, it became obvious that some of the finished documentaries could have been further enhanced by more extensive use of the rushes. We can see, in retrospect, that the requirements of TV scheduling put constraints on the running times of the documentaries.

    It’s one of the great benefits of this particular archive project that that these outtakes can now be encountered and enjoyed as stand-alone pieces. For example, Merry Doyle’s personalised portrait of poet Patrick Kavanagh, ‘Patrick Kavanagh – No Man’s Fool’, is heartfelt and full of intimate moments, but the outtakes flesh out the story considerably. There are in-depth, previously-unseen interviews with actor T.P. McKenna, author Dermot Healy, poet John Montague and other people close to the poet.

    A fascinating sequence with Kavanagh’s brother, Peter, at the installation of a plaque at Parson’s Bookshop on Baggot Street, sheds light on the controversial relationship of the siblings. Audio recordings of actor Gerard McSorley’s beautiful readings of Kavanagh’s poems, only partially used in the film’s final cut, emphasise the genius of both actor and poet.

    Writers Dermot Healy and Leland Bardwell perform a wonderful dialogue on the subject of Kavanagh’s women at the Model Arts Theatre, Sligo. A hitherto unseen lecture on Kavanagh by poet Paul Durcan at a Carrickmacross hotel is affectionate and funny.

    On location, ‘Patrick Kavanagh – No Man’s Fool’.

    The same can be said regarding the rushes for the historical biography, ‘James Gandon – A Life’, which feature lengthy interviews with the late architect Sam Stephenson, art historian Edward McParland, and conservationist David Slattery.

    There’s a wonderful guided tour of Gandon’s architecture along Dublin’s River Liffey by art historian Maurice Craig, which was not included in the film and comprises a colourful history lesson in itself. The rushes for the scenes in which veteran Irish actor Christopher Casson plays an ageing Gandon show him engaged on the final work in his distinguished career. One of the best things here is a spectacularly frosty interview with former Taoiseach, Charles J. Haughey at his Gandon-built home, Abbeyville, in North Dublin.

    Street Traders

    The copious rushes for one of the finest Loopline productions, the personal and impressionistic ‘Alive-Alive-O: A Requiem for Dublin’, are astonishing. They encompass an unprecedented record of the suppression by the state of Dublin’s traditional street traders, the closure of marketplaces, the heroin epidemic that devastated the inner city communities in the 80s, and the work of TDs and social activists in defending the workers livelihoods.

    Among the outtakes is interview with the the fiercely articulate late T.D. Tony Gregory. The collection also has lovely audio recordings of actor Jasmine Russell reading commissioned verse by contemporary working-class poet, Paula Meehan.

    Supporters of Tony Gregory. Photo courtesy of Derek Spiers.

    The rushes for ‘John Henry Foley – Sculptor of the Empire’ are equally detailed and rich. They feature, for example, lengthy interviews with sculptor Cliodhna Cullen, art historians Paula Murray and John Turpin, Senator David Norris and then-Director of the National Museum, Pat Wallace.

    Also contained herein are extended rushes of two intriguing journeys: one to Cambridge, England, where Foley’s statue of General Hardinge, once proudly displayed in Ireland, now stands in a relative’s country garden; and another to Barrack Pore in Calcutta, India, a cemetery for decommissioned imperial statues. The high production values of the finished documentary are reflected in the breadth and richness of these rushes.

    Watching the outtakes of ‘Patrick Scott – Golden Boy’, one becomes aware of the closeness between director Merry Doyle and Scott. In a lengthy week-long interview, the modest, Zen-like Scott reflects on his career in an Ireland inimical to non-representational art.

    There are many interviews never used in the final cut with people such as art critic Bruce Arnold and others intimate with Scott. An interview with Scott’s friend, the late poet Seamus Heaney, is of particular interest. Merry Doyle has done Scott an enormous service in recording this material for future generations. It all amounts to a truly compendious overview of the history of modern art in Ireland.

    Folk Art

    ‘Hidden Treasures’ (Anne O’Leary, 1998) is a four-part anthropological series looking at Irish folk-life. It was structured around 16mm field recordings of traditional rural crafts made by the National Museum of Ireland from the 1950s to the 1970s, which Merry Doyle had restored and digitised before inviting folklorist O’Leary to direct.

    The series focuses on man’s relationship with the sea, traditional agricultural tools and technologies, and the role of ritual in rural life. Haunting colour footage shot by cinematographers Brendan Doyle and John T. Davis throughout rural Ireland complements this early archive footage and the rushes add up to a beautiful folklore archive in themselves.

    Like its companion piece, the one-off Christmas documentary, ‘Ó Bhéal go Beal um Nollag’ (Durac, Vanessa Gildea, 2010), ‘Hidden Treasures’ provides a final glimpse of quickly fading traditions. (Incidentally, this was not Merry Doyle’s only foray into film archiving. He was also responsible for the 1996 restoration of ‘O’Donoghue’s Opera’ (Kevin Sheldon, 1965), a lost film featuring The Dubliners, and Peter Lennon’s 1968 documentary, ‘The Rocky Road to Dublin’.)

    One of the finest Loopline productions, ‘Jimmy Murakami – Non-Alien’, is a moving account of the animator-director’s attempt to reconcile the events of a troubled childhood by journeying from his adopted home in Dublin back to the site of trauma – Tule Lake, California. There his family were incarcerated in a Japanese-American concentration camp during World War II.

    JImmy Murakmai at Tule Lake.

    As in the Scott portrait, the rushes here reveal Merry Doyle’s close relationship with his subject (he and Murakami had been friends for years before the film’s production). While the film itself is a moving account of Murakami’s spiritual journey, the rushes show the ways in which Merry Doyle attempts, over many takes, to get to the core of his friend’s emotional conflict.

    While Murakami drives along a Californian highway at sunset, Paddy Jordan’s camera captures perfectly the emotions coming to his face, as producer Vanessa Gildea sobs in the back seat of the car. As the journey comes to an end, the rushes show how the director’s patience is rewarded by the arrival of an exquisite sunset that permeates the closing scenes.

    Sadly, Jimmy Murakami passed away not long after the film’s release, but, as with the Patrick Scott project, Merry Doyle and crew have created a staggering portrait of this unique artist for the generations.

    In ‘Kathleen Lynn – Rebel Doctor’, Merry Doyle and crew tell the little-known story of the suffragette, Republican and doctor and her conflict with the independent state in establishing Saint Ultan’s Children’s Hospital in Dublin.

    The rushes feature in-depth interviews with feminist historians Sinead McCoole, Loretta Clarke, Margaret Ó hÓgartaigh, author of a book on Lynn, Honor O’Brolchain, historian Margaret MacCurtain, feminist activist and historian Dr. Margaret Ward, medical experts Dr. Barbara Stokes and Dr. Rosarie Barry, as well as a touching interview with 109-year-old Bridget Dirrane, author, Republican and former staff member at Saint Ultans.

    The Quiet Man

    Merry Doyle’s hugely-ambitious work, ‘John Ford – Dreaming the Quiet Man’ is, like ‘Jimmy Murakami – Non-Alien’, another story of an artist’s journey into the past.

    Seven years in the making, it’s Merry Doyle’s imagining of Irish-American film director John Ford’s dream of returning to Ireland to make the film ‘The Quiet Man’ (1952), as well as a conscious attempt to redress the film’s negative reputation on home ground.

    With Martin Scorsese (l).

    The rushes include a detailed interview with American director, Martin Scorsese, in which he discusses the poetry of Ford’s film and themes of emigration and community. American director, Peter Bogdanovich, talks about his personal relationship with Ford and his deeply-felt affection for The Quiet Man. Dublin-born Hollywood actress, Maureen O’Hara, the film’s female lead, entertainingly reveals her relationships with the difficult Ford, actor John Wayne and her experience working on the film.

    In an interview with Jay Cocks at the Algonquin Hotel in New York, the scriptwriter explains how the boxing scene from Ford’s film influenced the ringside scenes in Scorsese’s ‘Raging Bull’. John Wayne’s daughter Aissa talks about how Ford, O’Hara and Wayne struggled to get the film financed. American academics Joseph McBride and William C. Dowling speak almost obsessively about Ford and ‘The Quiet Man’. The rushes also contain some breath-taking footage of Monument Valley, Utah, where Ford shot many of his Westerns, through the lens of regular Loopline cameraman, Paddy Jordan.

    Sé Merry Doyle & Maureen O’Hara at The Maureen O’Hara Film Festival, at the Eccles Hotel, Glengarriff, Co. Cork.
    Picture: John Delea/Muskerry Photos.

    Poetry and Literature

    While the collection focuses mainly on the visual arts in Ireland, there is a special emphasis on poetry and literature. An outtake from the ‘Soiscéal Phádraic’ arts magazine series, for example, features an amicable interview with writer John McGahern at the Galway launch of his ‘Memoir’ in 2005.

    The popular Imprint series, produced and broadcast between 1999 and 2001, features interviews with national and international writers and is presented by poet Theo Dorgan. Irish writers interviewed are poets Eavan Boland, Dermot Bolger, Anthony Cronin, Brendan Kennelly, John Montague, Michael Longley and Nuala Ní Domhnaill; novelists Leland Bardwell, Maeve Binchy, Roddy Doyle, Jennifer Johnston, Bernard MacLaverty, Joseph O’Connor and Colm Toibín; and playwrights Thomas Kilroy and Hugh Leonard. International writers interviewed are Margaret Atwood, J.G.Ballard, Thomas Keneally, Richard Ford, Doris Lessing, Edward W. Said and Gore Vidal. These interviews have never been seen before in their entirety. An hilarious interview with American writer Kinky Freedman is one of my personal favourites.

    The Imprint series also featured especially commissioned short films on poets and writers by new Irish directors: Maurice Healy’s charming short on legendary sports journalist Con Houlihan; Paul Duane’s films on novelists Patrick McCabe and J.M O’Neill; Art O’Leary’s meditation on Dublin’s War Memorial Park; Hilary Dully’s comic take on the poetry of Rita Ann Higgins; Barrie Dowdall’s atmospheric short on Wexford playwright Billy Roach; Donald Taylor Black’s rumination on Russian poet and novelist Boris Pasternak; Brendan J. Byrne’s lyrical and experimental pieces on poet Louis McNiece, novelist Brian Moore and poet Ciaran Carson; Eve Morrison’s visit to the Dublin Inner City Folklore Project; Niamh Barrett on novelist Marian Keyes; Sé Merry Doyle on Charles Dickens in Ireland and his short about Oscar Wilde, ‘Wild About Oscar’; and David Barker on writer Carlo Gebler. The rushes for the Con Houlihan short make for particularly absorbing viewing.

    In San Francisco.

    Master Class

    It struck me that the rushes and outtakes constitute a kind of master class in documentary filmmaking. Merry Doyle and crew members are present throughout and the process of filmmaking is often laid bare: the filming of establishing shots; the pursuit of the best takes; the honing in on ideas that arise during interviews; as well as the playfulness of the crew after a successful filming session.

    An unfinished project, ‘Documentary Where Art Thou?’, a series of interviews with prominent international documentary filmmakers filmed at workshops funded by Screen Training Ireland, examines the subject of documentary production itself. The interviews are loose and informal, allowing directors Jon Bang Carlsen, Molly Dineen, D.A. Pennebaker and Chris Hegadus, John T. Davis and Peter Wintonick to engage with the nuts and bolts of documentary theory and practice. Russian director, Maria Goldovskaya, is also filmed giving a class on her work as a political filmmaker.

    The rushes shot by the Loopline Film crew for projects that were never completed give a clear picture of the traditional difficulties of raising funding for serious cultural documentaries. Watching the footage shot for a projected film on writer Lafcadio Hearn (Greek-born but of Irish heritage), drove home to me how significant and entertaining such a film would have been and it becomes quite obvious that an opportunity had been missed.

    The unfolding events are funny and often moving as Merry Doyle’s camera accompanies great-grandson Bon Koizumi and his wife in the footsteps of the writer around Dublin, Waterford and Mayo. The preservation of these materials at the IFI leaves open the possibility that these projects might eventually be completed.

    Equally tantalising are the rushes for a documentary portrait of Irish writer, historian and critic, Ulick O’Connor. In retrospect, it’s a shame that Merry Doyle was unable to raise funding to complete the project as the pilot material shows a refined literary mind at work.

    O’Connor delivers a detailed lecture on the Irish Literary Renaissance at the United Arts Club in Dublin and gives an eyebrow-raising interview at his Dublin home. At one point he reads from his translation of an Irish-language poem by Brendan Behan on Oscar Wilde’s sexuality. It’s an unknown poem which could be read as Behan’s own coming-out statement (camouflaged, ironically, by the Irish language).

    Sé Merry Doyle.

    Life Goes On

    Abandoned footage (by Merry Doyle and Linda O’Sullivan) for a portrait of the late socialist politician Jim Kemmy, a humanist and visionary, once more indicates the short-sightedness of funders. The rushes outline Kemmy’s trade union work in the 1970s and 80s, his championing of the working-class, his contribution to the anti-apartheid movement, his work on family planning and his battle against the Catholic Church.

    Merry Doyle’s pilot material focuses on this important figure through informative interviews with Kemmy’s brother Joe, Labour TD Janice O’Sullivan, and Kemmy’s partner and co-worker, Patsy Harrold. Another incomplete project from 2002 comprises sketches for a portrait of Limerick old-school Republican, Richard Behal.

    While the incomplete projects in the Loopline Collection throw much light on the difficulties of raising funding for serious social, cultural and historical documentaries, one can only be grateful for Loopline Film’s commitment and determination to pursue important subjects through creative storytelling.

    Thankfully, the IFI and the BAI have been insightful enough to preserve for oncoming generations this broad panorama of Irish social, artistic and cultural life across two centuries. It’s a fitting testimony to the lifelong work and commitment of Sé Merry Doyle and his contributors at Loopline Film over thirty-five years.

    Life, meanwhile, goes on as Merry Doyle steers Loopline Film into the future with two fresh projects: ‘John Huston – A Man Without a Country’, the story of American film director John Huston’s adoption of Ireland as a home in the 1960s; and a work-in-progress, ‘Hanna & Me’, the story of Micheline Sheehy Skeffington’s retracing of her great-grandmother Hanna Sheehy Skeffington’s journey to America in the 1920s as a suffragette and political activist.

  • No Comment: London New and Old

    [Best_Wordpress_Gallery id=”47″ gal_title=”London, July 6th, 2019″]

  • All Cassandras Parties

    In this benighted ‘Republic,’ spectral beggars haunt the streets of Dublin, soup kitchens multiply, and the sick lie in agony on hospital trolleys. The ‘booming’ economy is really a country where working people are known to live in cars, and some of the nation’s children bring toilet paper to school (no, it’s not Venezuela).

    The Taoiseach (such a dude) has serious decisions to make, on what socks to wear, and Pop Stars to meet; a truly punishing schedule posing for Irish Times photo shoots. In Dáil Éireann, meanwhile, the Minister for Trolleys and overpaid Consultants, along with the Minister for Homelessness, make speeches on ‘progress,’ but the Great Unwashed have had enough of hapless politicians falling on their arses.

    There is not a single intellectual voice raised above the clamour of sniping; Mary Lou is screeching at everyone, while fashion icon Michael Healy-Rae advocates for drunken driving – in short, a confederacy of clowns.

    The state broadcaster RTE offers up an unwholesome diet of Donald Trump’s choice in burgers, and even the odd scallion recipe. Towering minds like Ray D’Arcy discuss dogs barking (now it really would be something if a dog meowed!), and we are simply riveted by ‘Tubs’ interviewing female soap stars about plastic surgery (when it is some of the fellas who need it…).

    In mainstream print media we find hysterical articles about Russia, and Fintan O’Toole bellyaching about the Brits, and missing the point of it all. This apparent collective collapse in national IQ is almost certainly a conspiracy to sedate the mutinous instincts of the scruffy oppressed.

    Yet revolution is nigh, and leading the way is a committed group of journalists behind Cassandra Voices, a new online and print magazine.

    We desperately need independent media, so I was delighted to attend the launch of Cassandra Voices II. Donning overalls, and packing my copy of Das Kapital (and a pike for good measure), I went along to Ian Lumley’s unique residence on Henrietta Street, where a crowd was mustering in the fading evening light.

    There I encountered documentary filmmaker Sé Merry Doyle, that well known champion of the downtrodden masses, greeting guests with camera poised as they entered the building. Frank Armstrong, the slightly dishevelled editor, was standing on the steps, and rebellion was is in the air. Milling around inside were a ragtag collection of aspiring Marxists, legendary lunatics, self-confessing anarchists and dissenting intellectuals, murmuring sweet-seditious-nothings to one-another amidst neoclassical sculptures in the ghostly venue.

    It was a pleasure to find so many beautiful young revolutionaries (and that was just the menfolk!) under the same roof. Storming around filling glasses was dashing Comrade Ruadhan Mac Eoin, there followed by Comrade Daniele Idini, of Sardinian descent it is said … just like Antonio Gramsci … and nearby Comrade Ilsa Monique Carter was adding a dash of New Orleans glamour to the mix.

    Before the speechifying, Cora Venus Lunny improvised a wonderful piece on the violin, evoking a mad genius, before segueing into haunting melodies. Then Frank eloquently introduced the magazine, and Bob Quinn, that long-time critic of venal corruption, warmly welcomed the magazine, featuring his mug on the cover alongside Muammar Gaddafi – it’s a long story…

    Mingling among the revolutionary throng, I encountered Comrade Ronan Sheehan (soon to publish a book of translations of Cuban poetry). We spoke about class struggle, neo-liberalism, and laissez unfair economics. ‘Einstein’s your man,’ I opined. ‘Believed the worker should seize the means of production. A great economist altogether.’

    Before Ronan had a chance to recite his beloved Catullus, I had beetled off to refill my glass, and came across Comrade Jim McGurk, delicately quaffing his own tipple. He was in deep conversation with yet another revolutionary about Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle. ‘Ah sure that’s old hat’ I proclaimed. ‘He was onto the protons and the neurons alright, but he missed the morons – the cause of it all.’

    A few more comrades joined as I held the stage: ‘Democracy cannot survive in a capitalist system,’ I asserted, ‘because it will be overtaken by oppressive elites. Socialism can’t survive without democracy, I added. My voice rose to an impassioned crescendo: ‘Comrades” I said, ‘whether you’ve a capitalist system of government, revolutionary communism, or anything in between, it will be sabotaged because the men will make a pig’s mickey of it all.’

    ‘I think a woman should be put in charge – such as myself,’ I proposed. An awed silence followed thereafter, not a murmur of descent to be heard.

    The evening wound down with the Dublin premier of Bob Quinn’s film ‘Bog Graffitti’, (introduced by the indefatigable Merry Doyle), containing an apocalyptic vision of a dying planet, evoked by insects writhing in agony, and set to music by Roger Doyle. Later on, I’m told, there was more music from Italian songster Massimiliano Galli.

    In this haunting building there was a sense of something waiting to be being born, a new dawn perhaps. Indeed, as the sound of the fiddle wafted through the house, I had the distinct impression of the Rough Beast taking off like a scalded cat. Three cheers for Cassandra!

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  • Bull Moose: Recalling Roe v. Wade in the face of Alabama’s ‘Human Protection Act’

    Earlier this month Alabama Governor Kay Ivey signed into law ‘The Alabama Human Protection Act’ passed by both the Alabama House and Senate entitled. This law, which does not take immediate effect, bans all abortions except:

    …activities if done with the intent to save the life or preserve the health of an unborn child, remove a dead unborn child, to deliver the unborn child prematurely to avoid a serious health risk to the unborn child’s mother, or to preserve the health of her unborn child. The term [abortion] does not include a procedure or act to terminate the pregnancy of a woman with an ectopic pregnancy, nor does it include the procedure or act to terminate the pregnancy of a woman when the unborn child has a lethal anomaly.

    The law is now the most restrictive law outlawing abortion in the United States. But punishments for doctors performing procedures contrary to it could lead to a custodial sentence of up to ninety-nine years.

    It appears many have not actually taken the time to read the law. As is the case with most laws, hysteria makes more waves than actual discussion and it is no different in this case. It is worth taking a moment to check and see exactly what Alabama achieves.

    The law recognizes that a person is, ‘A human being, specifically including an unborn child in utero at any stage of development, regardless of viability.’  The law is designed to protect that human life because,

    In the United States Declaration of Independence, the principle of natural law that “all men are created equal” was articulated. The self-evident truth found in natural law, that all human beings are equal from creation, was at least one of the bases for the anti-slavery movement, the women’s suffrage movement, the Nuremberg war crimes trials, and the American civil rights movement. If those movements had not been able to appeal to the truth of universal human equality, they could not have been successful…

    It is estimated that 6,000,000 Jewish people were murdered in German concentration camps during World War II; 3,000,000 people were executed by Joseph Stalin’s regime in Soviet gulags; 2,500,000 people were murdered during the Chinese ‘Great Leap Forward.’ in 1958; 1,500,000 to 3,000,000 people were murdered by the Khmer Rouge in Cambodia during the 1970s; and approximately 1,000,000 people were murdered during the Rwandan genocide in 1994. All of these are widely acknowledged as Crimes Against Humanity. By comparison, more than fifty million babies have been aborted in the United States since the Roe v Wade decision of 1973, more than three times the number who were killed in German death camps, Chinese purges, Stalin’s gulags, Cambodian killing fields, and the Rwandan genocide combined.

    What the Holocaust, or Pol Pot’s purges have to do with abortion or an unborn fetus is unclear. It is equally unclear where the number of fifty million abortions comes from – the mind boggles that Alabama is using a national statistic to justify a specifically Alabama law.

    It is really unclear why this law quotes from the Declaration of Independence, which is a statement of principles not an actual law or part of any American Jurisprudence. Indeed, Justice Anton Scalia, among the most conservatives judges to have served on the Supreme Court, was fond of heckling any student or lawyer who cited the Declaration as precedent.

    In short, this law was written by an individual or individuals who knows nothing about the laws that govern this nation, passed by lawmakers that seemingly didn’t read it – even though the legislation is actually only about four pages in length – and signed off by a Governor who wants to make a political statement.

    Now for some real law. Roe v Wade (and its counterpart Planned Parenthood v. Casey) established that the Due Process clause of the 14th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution provides a fundamental ‘right to privacy’ that protects a woman’s right to have an abortion.  This ‘right’ is not absolute however, and must be balanced by the government’s interest in protecting a woman’s health and protecting prenatal health. That’s the law as it stands: women have a fundamental right. This is the important part: her right may be balanced by interests of government or the health of the fetus but is the woman’s right not the government’s or the fetus’s.

    Alabama’s law takes away that right almost fully, and only recognizes the interests of the government and the fetus. For that reason alone the law cannot last.

    There has been much ink spilled over this law and many more tweets. The President and many Republicans have distanced themselves from the law stating, in effect, that it goes too far. Governor Ivey is also rumored to have said she does not expect the law to be upheld by the Supreme Court.

    This brings us to the twofold crux of the matter: first, we have a law that is being passed not for the sake of women but for the government’s interest in preventing abortion. This is a big leap for a Political Party that has at its base a philosophy of endeavouring to keep government out of people’s lives.

    Secondly, this law probably wasn’t even written by the people who passed it. It has been a long time since lawmakers in the US have taken the time to write laws. Laws are written by special interest groups and then copied wholesale onto State and Federal Letterhead where they are signed into law by Executives who have taken even less time to read what is in front of them.

    And it has to stop.  Alabama’s brainless and brazen effort to make headlines in their attempt to overturn forty-five years of American Jurisprudence makes a mockery of the process and the people they govern. It is shockingly insensitive to try and relate the Holocaust to the reproductive choices of many American women. This choice is intensely personal and excruciatingly difficult to make. If only this was an isolated event. In fact, this happens at all levels if State and Federal Government.

    It is time for American lawmakers to make at least a good faith effort to offer laws that they at least have a hand in crafting. Writing the laws is their job and they ought to start performing that role.

  • Kilbride

    SINGLE. That’s what my train ticket says. It sticks out in the rain like a young tongue between the teeth of an old machine’s slot. Besotted as I am with the tingle to mingle, naturally I snatch it whispering, ‘Thanks a lot.’

    Koreans claim a girl is gold till she’s old. Silver tarnishes on the shelf, which itself if left unvarnished will end up driftwood. There I stood, pretty petrified in Manhattan’s Meat Packing District, watching a guy with more hair plugs than spark park his Maserati. Momma was right, nothing good happens after midnight. I took flight, aspiring to retire in Gay Paree with Pinocchio the day he proposed.

    A prenuptial meal sealed the deal with the heir’s parents. In scintillating Italian, I sprinted to recite the forgettable motto printed on the spaghetti. Where There’s Barilla, There’s Home. La Mama beamed at me like we’d won the lotto. I was blotto. Not at all the polyglot who swirled in similar circles, but her only son had got a girl. She gushed with glee, ‘Si! The Barillas! You know them too?’

    In a few years, the fourth generation pasta multinational was brought to its knees by a boycott thrashing brothers Guido, Luca and Paolo for gay bashing. So maybe their branding should be Where there’s Barilla, There’s a Homo.

    Sapience and savagery ensued even as the finer points of European protocol eluded me. There were frequent free-for-alls that called for much wine and few true friends. At the end of such an evening we were down to three when I dashed out for smokes. Zooming back in to our baroque ballroom what did I find? My fidanzato in a bind. The kind that demoted me to a fag hag bragging we’d a new majordomo employed. Rome wasn’t destroyed in a year and I hear Emperor Tiberius too was queer.

    St. Theresa said, ‘More tears are shed over answered prayers than those left unanswered’ and I have to agree. See, long before these cards were dealt, I felt quite at home with subcontinental husbands, you understand, none of them mine. The mostly male sales team in Mumbai joked Shiva, their divinity, would deliver me a bloke.

    Torches on the porch of a temple barely extoll the size of a drowsy leviathan yawning its jaws wide to swallow women of an ilk willing to wallow in a rainbow riot of silk. I lacked their long black hair powerfully perfumed by flowers. But no slacker, I simply slipped, tight-lipped, right into the river of dimples, hoping to elope.

    Inside the candle-lit cavern, my manicured hands slipped sandals off to bare ten professionally pale toes. Posed with new Indian skirts tied high around my thighs, I waded into the ankle deep creamy waters washing around like an albino hurricane had hit this technicolor dreamscape. Two thousand years of time telescoped before me, obscured by fragrant wreaths of incense, illuminated in the half-light. Hordes hankering for a husband, filled vessels of all shapes and size from a fountain somehow flowing with holy cow’s milk. In multiple slaphappy chapels, the onslaught slung their supernatural soup, sowing it from amorous amphorae over obliquely symbolic and cucumbersome stones.

    After a first pail, without fail, pre-filled buckets lucked into my hands. I nodded, trodding toward a line of lingams ready for anointing. Disjointed fingers pointed up at big bells dangling while juveniles jangled them. Bollywood Pollyannas tugged ropes thick as tree trunks that terminated with a thud in frayed coils on the floor. More deafening ding-dongs added their clang to the hellish cacophony of peals peppered with lusty squeals of laughter that licked the length and height of tall walls heaving with an insane Samsara sensation. I thanked the banker boys for not leaving when I stumbled out wet to the waist, in a tantric sweat, and betting on a new mantra. Marriage means never having to sell your sari.

    I’m no Mata Hari. I never intended to blend in. For better or for worse, my university decreed me a couples counselor. Landing in L.A. like a fish out of water, I was the Episcopalian shiksa slurping down sushi at a Jewish/Catholic wedding. The Zen garden variety… unique to the Hollywood Hills. Thrilled to be a bridesmaid, I saw my friend say I DO in Hebrew. Were it welded to my cupped hand, I couldn’t have held up her huppa any higher. Cross-examined about my own samurai, I had to admit he’d sent me alone. So the bona fide Freudian father of the bride took me aside and specifically advised against pacific playboys. I deployed instead to Hong Kong, toying with a ping-pong plan to wed.

    There’s no escape. Scraping the sky on the 50th floor with a harbour view, a trusting housewife in this life can’t rise above putting on the gloves. I was just dusting when I paused over a passport page busting him for distorting his age. Shorty’s I.D. reported he was ten years senior to the tall tale he’d told me. With laser-like pupils and no scruples, I skipped the sweeping. What other secret was he keeping? Deposited securely in his closet, sitting up erect, was an anatomically correct bedtime biddy. A hideous golden-haired booby trap, so real she could’ve given you the clap. Tawdry applause for the doll’s bridal veil, a vital tattle-tale on the dilapidated Japanese Dorian Gray. There comes a day when you’ve had enough. This wife-sized effigy was stuffed with promises to miss him. I LOVE YOU signed, Sue.

    I knew, unlocking the door, he’d look tired when I inquired, So um, how’s Suzanne? A man frozen with fear can suddenly show ten falsified years. He merely loosened his tie with a sigh, and started to tell the third lie. He’d tarried to marry because he never divorced! Of course, Madame Butterfly desisted to wed a polygamist. You see I was done shadow boxing and even Muhammad Ali would insist the shadow had won.

    I’ve heard it’s never as good as the first time. I wouldn’t know, I wasn’t there. My first proposal took place whiIst I sang a Latin cantata in the church choir. Once home, I waltzed in to a Superdome-sized quagmire. My step-mom was on the phone in a fevered pitch about somebody getting hitched. At least she hung up on the family priest before demanding, When did you last see Old Dick? I kicked off my black and white shoes. Dirty ashtray. Used glasses. The usual clues that Dick had dropped by.

    Dick was an odd duck. He puttered around muttering in the marina aboard a boat he’d been living on and fixing up for years. Said it had potential and when he was done he’d sail around the world with his battered cat for company. Alongside Dick’s vessel, Dad kept our well-loved wooden skiff. If resolutely, I saluted, Dick hadn’t computed I was jailbait cruising away most summer evenings with thirsty first mates. I rowed right out in skin tight sweaters on winter weekends too.

    The sun streaked his tousled tobacco-coloured locks all morning on deck, after which Dick lolled, smoking cigarettes he rolled in the shade. Leathery face immersed in an overdue library volume, he didn’t mind digressing when politely pressed upon. He’d don a corduroy jacket over his dirty denim and with a dab of perfume, come quick, if called to our house for a digestif. He always stayed for dinner but was equally content to stick below, as sailors say, in his boat’s galley. Carefully the thin skipper prepared cosmopolitan picnics of kippers, escargot at his own pace or a hardy foie gras, all of it from tins. Sometimes he shared them with me, as if we were lost at sea, on mismatched plates of chipped china with paper napkins. You couldn’t call it lunch or dinner, nothing definitive but something sinful in-between. Little by little I lingered, for lady fingers and caffè corretto, his crocodile eyes crinkling, without an inkling of the cardiovascular task he was about to ask.

    The flask rather empty, I gathered my step-mom not happy the sap had thought long and hard. She not so pleased he sought parental consent to make an honest woman of me and hit the high seas. The crux of it is, Old Dick was banished to Biloxi. The young psych nurse unrehearsed in this sort of mistaken urge to merge, stood her ground. There would be no more messing around. Shaken, she stirred herself a stiff drink. If I was 15, I think, no offense meant, none taken.

    Thrice wed in her own proxy war, my workaholic mother swore, ‘You’ll marry more in a minute than you can make in a lifetime.’ In my prime, I put on a skirt and flirt full throttle with a bottle to quiet my constant cogitations about a hodge-podge of wedding invitations lodged in my black mail box.

    A petty tom cat can break your heart. Yet, if you’re drawn to pawn it for spare parts you’ll like that even the town bike is recyclable, as typed in this ad sent by dear old Dad: Diamond bridal ring set $4000 Robeline, Louisiana. 14k white gold Total weight 1.5 ct. with 3 bands Size 4. Was wore for a very short time by the devil. Retail price is $8000-$9000 What I’m selling it for is negotiable. My loss is your gain.

    Let not what God has joined together be torn asunder by this blushing bard’s unbridled blunders. These undotted I’s and uncrossed T’s are rushingly written. Smitten by time spent under a lime tree, I’m tempted to see the whole world through a glass half empty. And me being not to the Manor bourne but just outside, a stone’s throw from Kilbride.

    Feature Image: © Jennifer Hahn

  • Brown Tide: Five Signs the Irish Government Could Not Give a Shit about the Environment

    Recent Local and European elections witnessed an electoral Green Tide, especially in Dublin, where Ciaran Cuffe topped the European poll. But this week Dubliners are contending with a Brown Tide, of shit, after overspill from the Ringsend Wastewater Plant.

    It is far from an isolated example of this government’s environmental negligence. What makes it all the more nauseating is the doublespeak emanating from many Fine Gael politicians, who claim to care, including the Taoiseach Leo Varadkar. Hard decisions are avoided and basic infrastructure is creaking, or non-existent, undermining the nation’s health. Planning for the future is long on glossy PR brochures but short on substantive action.

    Creaking infrastructure.

    Here are five obvious signs:

    1. Milking for all it’s worth: the Environmental Protection Agency recently projected a steady increase in national emissions, emanating in particular from the agricultural sector. By 2030 they estimate almost forty per cent of the national total will emanate from that sector.[i] This is the product of long-standing government policy. The Harvest 2020 plan, published in 2010, and driven by Simon Coveney as Minister for Agriculture from 2011, set ambitious targets for increasing dairy production, which have made Ireland the world’s second leading exporter of controversial infant milk powder into the Chinese market.[ii]

    2. Drilling Begins: The May elections showed Irish people are awakening to the need for climate action. Conveniently, two days after the poll, the Department of Climate Action granted consent for an exploratory oil and gas well off the Kerry coast.[iii] It begs the question as to whether the Department understands its remit to be the acceleration of climate change, as opposed to the opposite.

    3. Traffic Fumes: It is over a decade since the European Union’s environmental body described ‘Dublin as a ‘worst case scenario‘ for ‘unsustainable car-dependent urban sprawl.’[iv] Little or nothing has been done in the interim to counter what is an unusually car-dependent city. Moreover, a recent survey found Dublin to be one of the slowest cities to drive through in all of Europe[v]; all these cars, including those with diesel engines that continue to be sold, are diminishing air quality, with air pollution levels regularly breaching healthy standards set out by the WHO.[vi]

    Seapoint, Dublin, 9th of June, 2019.

    4. Swimming Ban: Thousands of Dubliners depend on a daily swim for their mental health and wellbeing. Last week it was revealed that partially treated sewage had leaked into Dublin Bay, creating a substantial health risk to bathers. The treatment facility was built in 2005 to accommodate a population of 1.64 million people, but now handles wastewater from approximately 1.9 million. As a result, the facility is constantly overloaded, tarnishing one of the city’s greatest assets in Dublin Bay.[vii]

    5. Greenwashing: Senior Fine Gael politicians have long specialised in saying one thing on the environment, while doing precisely the opposite. Leo Varadkar, for example, claimed he supported the school strike for climate,[viii] oblivious, or attempting to undermine, how these young adults were, in fact protesting against the negligent policies of his government. In terms of agriculture, the Irish Wildlife Trust’s Padraic Fogarty recently wrote about the government’s propaganda that ‘it would be wrong to think that Origin Green was merely ineffective – it is much worse than that. It is, in fact, a greater threat than all these insidious pressures precisely because its marketing is so effective.’[ix]

    School Climate Strike.

    [i] ‘EPA’S GREENHOUSE GAS PROJECTIONS SHOW THAT IRELAND HAS MORE TO DO TO MEET ITS 2030 TARGETS’, Environmental Protection Agency, June 6th, 2019. https://www.epa.ie/mobile/news/name,66072,en.html?fbclid=IwAR3cGLpPKV9k4fTIVE8EMCJ_DPqG4bK_Ked5xWObMD5pzt_j63_wGQK7R24 accessed 9/6/19.

    [ii] Amy Forde, ‘Ireland is the second largest exporter of infant formula to China’, Agriland, September 21st, 2015, http://www.agriland.ie/farming-news/ireland-is-the-second-largest-exporter-of-infant-formula-to-china/, accessed 9/6/19.

    [iii] Niall Sargant, ‘Government gives consent for drilling off Kerry coast’, Greennews.ie, May 28th, 2019. https://greennews.ie/gov-consent-green-wave-oil/, accessed 9/6/19.

    [iv] Untitled, Belfast Telegraph, ‘EU using Dublin as example of worst-case urban, 4th of October, 2016, sprawl’ https://www.belfasttelegraph.co.uk/breakingnews/breakingnews_ukandireland/eu-using-dublin-as-example-of-worstcase-urban-sprawl-28409383.html, accessed 9/6/19.

    [v] Barry Arnold, ‘DUBLIN TOPS THE LIST AS ‘SLOWEST CITY CENTRE IN ALL OF EUROPE’ FOR TRAFFIC CONGESTION’, Extra.ie, February 14th, 2019, https://extra.ie/2019/02/14/news/irish-news/dublin-traffic-congestion-inrix-report, accessed 9/6/19.

    [vi] Untitled, ‘Dublin air pollution levels breach healthy standard study finds’, Newstalk, 14th of September, 2018. https://www.newstalk.com/news/dublin-air-pollution-levels-breach-who-standards-study-finds-497361, accessed 9/6/19.

    [vii] Kevin O’Sullivan, ‘Why is partially-treated sewage leaking into Dublin Bay?’ Irish Times, Jun 7th, 2019, https://www.irishtimes.com/news/environment/why-is-partially-treated-sewage-leaking-into-dublin-bay-1.3918122, accessed 9/6/19.

    [viii] Cormac Fitzgerald, ‘Leo says he supports school students going on strike next week as part of global action on climate change’, thejournal.ie, March 6th, 2019, https://www.thejournal.ie/climate-change-student-strike-4526018-Mar2019/, accessed 9/6/19.

    [ix] Padraic Fogarty, ‘Is greenwashing our greatest threat to nature?’, Greennews.ie, June 6th, 2019, https://greennews.ie/greenwashing-the-greatest-threat-to-nature/, accessed 9/6/19.

  • Palestine – To Exist is to Resist

    I have just returned from Hebron in the West Bank, a city where nearly sixty Palestinians have been extra-judicially executed by Israeli forces since the end of September 2015.

    On my last stint in Hebron, West Bank, while doing check point duty one morning one of my team mates overheard two very small children chatting:

    One said: ‘Will we throw some stones?’ To which the other child replied: ‘No, it’s the first day back at school.’

    That is how normal the fight for freedom from military occupation has become for Palestinian children, even if they are under age ten.

    We saw four small children, aged about ten, throwing stones at Qitoun checkpoint at 7.15 am, like 4 mice attacking an elephant. The response from the Israeli soldiers was to put on their gas masks, adjust their weapons and attack the children with sound bombs and canisters of tear gas.

    This new tear gas used by the Israeli forces pierces your eyes so badly you cannot open them. It scrapes across your throat so that you cough and cough. And all of this ensures that you cannot run away from it because you cannot see where you are going, and, even if you could see, you cannot breathe to move. Ten tear gas canisters landed in playgrounds of schools that morning. A little boy aged about four, with a Smurfs school bag on his back, and protected by his seven-year-old brother coughed and choked considerably longer than the other children. He was innocent, and the victim of the collective punishment that is systematically meted out to Palestinians by the Israeli state.

    That evening I arrived in Jaffa, Tel Aviv for a few days break, still coughing badly from the tear gas, and an Israeli man in a shop tells me that Israelis have had ‘enough’!

    And I’m thinking – you have no idea what ‘enough’ really means.

    ‘Enough’ is when you lock up seven hundred Palestinian children a year, from aged twelve to eighteen; when you arbitrarily arrest many of them at night from their beds.

    I have seen many children detained and arrested. The strongest memory I have is of one little boy, who looked about eleven, being detained. His little dark eyes locked hard on to my eyes. We looked at each other for a long time, he fearfully, pleading with hope in his eyes, and me with desperation and helplessness.

    ‘Enough’ is when you handcuff and blindfold children and abuse them while they lie on the floor of the military jeep, while you take them to prison. ‘Enough’ is when you ensure they will not see their parents until the day of military court, which can be four to eight days later.

    ‘Enough’ is when you beat them and put them in solitary confinement, you threaten that their family members will be arrested or that their home will be demolished or that you will sexually abuse them, if they do not confess. You force them to sign a confession in Hebrew, a language they do not understand, and this forms the basis on which the majority of Palestinian children are convicted in children’s court

    ‘Enough’ is when you ensure those children from twelve-years-of-age will not see a lawyer until a few minutes before their court case. You accuse the majority of throwing stones and you convict them in over 99% of cases with only 0.02% having a full evidentiary trial.

    ‘Enough’ is when you see that these children are brought into the military court in lines of four with chains on their feet joining them together.  I have heard the sounds of those chains clanking – twelve-year-olds with legs inn shackles in case they might escape from the fourth largest army in the world.

    The little child’s sad eyes pierce through the distraught eyes of their parents who have to sit in the back row of the military court, and who are not allowed to touch or hug their little ones. The public conversation that usually takes place between child and parent consists of: ‘Are you ok? Have you enough to eat?’; while he responds: ‘Are you all ok at home? What did the soldiers do after I left?’’

    And then the case is over in two minutes – cut and paste – same as all the other cases. Then the children are taken back to jail with their leg shackles clanking.

    ‘Enough’ is when you see from your child’s eyes that he has now completely lost his childhood.

    And none of this happens with Israeli settler children who are living in illegal settlements in the centre of Hebron.

    And you expect you will beat Palestinians into submission? Have you no idea that you are creating a university of learners who will react?

    This is life under Israeli military occupation in Hebron, West Bank. Enough.

    The Seanad and Dail recently passed the Control of Economic Activity (Occupied Territories) Bill 2018

    Despite the fact that it was passed by a 75 to 45 vote majority, and that all opposition parties voted for it in the Dail and in the Seanad, Fine Gael voted against this Bill and it is understood they will use the ‘Money Message’ procedure to block it.

    This is a little used procedure that Fine Gael have employed to block a number of Private Member’s Bills in the last months. This is undemocratic and a blatant political action to support Israel in its breach of International Law.  This move is in line with the non-recognition of the State of Palestine by Official Ireland, even though the elected members of the Dail and the Seanad voted unanimously to recognise the state of Palestine in 2014.

    Gerry O’Sullivan in Palestine with children.

    Gerry delivers Certified Professional Mediation Training that is accredited by the Mediators’ Institute of Ireland. She has delivered conflict and mediation training internationally with U.S. based Lawyers Without Borders, in partnership with the Director of Training from CEDR, U.K., and she is also an externally employed trainer with CEDR U.K. Gerry is a member of the Mediators Beyond Borders Consultants Team. She is a panel member with One Resolve and delivers mediation training under their auspices. Gerry was involved in the development of the Level 8 Certificate in Mediation training programme in the Law Faculty of Griffith College and she was invited to be the senior lecturer in that programme. She also delivered mediation training for the University of Limerick’s, “Masters in Peace and Development” programme. Gerry has written ‘The Mediator’s Toolkit: Formulating and Asking Questions for Successful Outcomes’, and it is published by New Society Publishing, Canada.

  • No Comment: Schools Climate Strike

    [Best_Wordpress_Gallery id=”45″ gal_title=”No Comment: Schools Climate Strike”]

  • Freedom of Speech in the Facebook Age

    Facebook’s CEO Mark Zuckerberg recently called for more stringent Internet privacy and election laws saying, ‘We need a more active role for governments and regulators.’[i] In advocating what amounts to censorship, he seems to have at least awoken to the Promethean beast he has summoned.

    It opens a dangerous vista, however, and is hypocritical for Zuckerberg to complain about hate speech, given his company provides a forum for its ventilation, while deriving vast profits off the advertising of post-truth nonsense.

    Among the essential features of any democracy is freedom of speech, without which other rights are superfluous. Woven into the fibre of the American character, Anthony Lewis described freedom of speech, which is protected under the First Amendment of the U.S. Constitution, as ‘a search engine for the truth.’[ii] It is also enshrined in various international human rights instruments, albeit generally using more attenuated formulae.

    The scope of freedom of speech came before the U.S. Supreme Court in the case of Snyder v Phelps et al in 2011, which concerned the picketing by Westboro Baptist Church at the funerals of U.S. service men and women over the military’s tolerance of homosexuality.

    The Supreme Court held that the constitutional guarantees do not permit any State to forbid or proscribe advocacy of the use of force or of law violation, except where such advocacy is directed at inciting or producing imminent lawless action, and is likely to incite or produce such action.

    In his judgement, Chief Justice Roberts indicated that:

    Speech is powerful. It can stir people to action, move them to tears of both joy and sorrow, and—as it did here—inflict great pain. On the facts before us, we cannot react to that pain by punishing the speaker. As a Nation we have chosen a different course—to protect even hurtful speech on public issues to ensure that we do not stifle public debate. That choice requires that we shield Westboro from tort liability for its picketing in this case.[iii]

    In contrast the European Court of Human Rights will not protect either racist speech or Holocaust denial from prosecution. Similarly, that Court permits the restriction of speech on grounds of public health and morals, or order public. These are, however, malleable concepts easily manipulated by state authoritarianism. It is worth emphasising that it is the speech we most dislike and disagree with that deserves most protection. An appeal to ordre publique involves the demonization and criminalisation of those we disagree with, but our own views could one day suffer the same fate, if we speak out of turn.

    My own opinion is enough for me

    Central to speech protection is defending the rights of others to speak, even if we disagree with their point of view. In his classic formulation Oscar Wilde said, ‘I may not agree with you, but I will defend to the death your right to make an ass of yourself.’

    In latter times the late Christopher Hitchens’s robustness verged on arrogance:

    My own opinion is enough for me, and I claim the right to have it defended against any consensus, any majority, anywhere, any place, any time. And anyone who disagrees with this can pick a number, get in line, and kiss my ass.

    However rudely expressed, Hitchens was attesting to the importance of argument and rational disputation in an increasingly degraded intellectual climate.

    Far earlier, Francis Bacon famously equated knowledge with power; although we should be cognisant of Michel Foucault’s qualification that power determines what counts as knowledge. Thus, speech imparts knowledge, but vested interests determine and condition the parameters of acceptable discourse.

    Elsewhere, the great Ronald Dworkin went further, arguing that ‘free speech is a condition of legitimate government.’ He indicated that the universality of speech as a mode of rational discourse and scientific inquiry could act as truth-seeking counterweight to mass hysteria, negating unreason and prejudice.[iv] Moreover, Stephen Sedley, the great English judge, called it ‘the lifeblood of democracy.[v]

    Speech and words matter, as Orwell trenchantly put it: ‘If liberty means anything at all, it means the right to tell people what they do not want to hear.’

    In retrospect Christopher Hitchens seems to have been at the tail end of a freedom of speech tradition beginning with his hero Thomas Paine, mediated through his other great hero Orwell, and culminating in his own rich tapestry of public utterances. His final collection of essays, and summation, is entitled Arguably, which is, arguably, the most important concept to defend – producing a discourse shaped by rational argument.

    Cultural Degradation

    In an increasingly controlled and technocratic age, fearless independent criticism is being expurgated. The press is controlled by vested corporate interests, and often, in offering ‘balanced’ coverage, editors grant credibility to pure nonsense. There are two sides to every story: Creationism or Darwinism, take your pick.

    Social Media solipsism has leached into the popular press at a time when the appropriate ambit of the freedom of speech proves ever more difficult to define. In this New World Order of endless Internet chatter, character assassination, simplifications and casual defamation are the order of the day.

    The Internet may ultimately prove a force for liberation, but it puts on public display ever more bizarre and outlandish commentaries, often implanted via sinister advertising. This cultural degradation is picked up by social media, which offers a forum for uninhibited cant. Zuckerberg is intervening belatedly, and to save his skin.

    The consequence are the belittling of politics and intellectual discourse – just compare the quality of the Clinton-Trump debates to those of an earlier epoch, such as Kennedy-Nixon. Similarly, the Brexit debates are conducted in a manner reminiscent of the Lord of the Flies, as opposed to the elevated Parliamentary debates preceding the decision to enter World War II.

    Post-Modernism

    Richard McKay Rorty’s observations about language having a fluid structure, which alters over time, is insightful, but can slide into abject moral relativism. The Post-Modernist argument has, in certain respects, been appropriated by the Far Right, who insist that truth is not truth, and that humans have nothing to do with climate change.

    What we are seeing is a free-for-all where all opinions are equal. Aneurin Bevin, as great an orator as Churchill, once remarked to the House of Commons that listening to a speech from Labour Prime Minister Clement Atlee was, ‘like paying a visit to Woolworths: everything was in its place, but nothing was above the value of sixpence.’ Thus, to be taken seriously, one must actually have something to say.

    Great speeches should have content, while any speaker should not get carried away by his rhetoric, which often serves propagandistic purposes. This sound-bite-generation might do well to follow the cautionary words of Wittgenstein that whereof one cannot speak thereof one must be silent.[vi] So respect for freedom of speech should not devolve to giving every clown a stage on which to perform.

    Curbing Advertising

    Whether freedom of speech protects jihadi websites handing down fatwas or exhibiting pornographic beheadings is often up for debate. Less commonly do we hear questions around protecting the population from the sponsored blathering of Trump, the Clintons or Goldman Sachs; or whether freedom of speech extends to protecting the nonsense emerging out of Fox News, which often controls the political narrative. In short, it is pie in the proverbial Sky News to argue that no credence or weight, or indeed audience, should be given to the Neo-Cons or Religious Rights, since they own many of the networks and set the agendas.

    This brings us to the vexed question of whether freedom of speech should be used to protect Internet providers. We know freedom of speech vitalises any democracy, but arguments in its favour may be deployed for nefarious ideological ends, where politically motivated advertisers frame political narratives. When Facebook accepts remuneration from political parties and online publishers in exchange for ‘boosting’ posts there is an implicit endorsement.

    In 2010, while acting as CEO, Eric Schmidt famously let slip that Google needed to secure its ‘borders’ before correcting himself to say ‘networks’,[vii] but the implication is clear that Google, and other corporations such as Facebook, act as Superpowers, which transcend national sovereignty. They then deliberately conflate freedom of speech assertions with the selling of products.

    Far less protection should be extended to commercial free speech, or the so-called freedom of the Internet, where big beasts spy and target you with advertising. Mark Zuckerberg’s call for the regulation of the Internet in fact opens an appalling vista of social control. Clearly his corporate interests are threatened by a veritable shitstorm of abuse, and never mind that Facebook has been used to manipulate voter sentiments.

    Ultimately it is up to constitutional courts, not Zuckerberg, to define the parameters of privacy. Given the storm he has unleashed, there is no way that he should be handed the role of policeman.

    I fear the information we receive from his organisation, among others, is turning us into passive nodal receptors, and permitting artificial intelligence to rewire human identity. This descends into the inevitable containment of speech, suppressing that which can be said, and even that which can be thought before it is mentioned. Or, to quote the title of a novel by Samuel Beckett, Ill Seen Ill Said.

    Moreover, the fluidity of the information superhighway, enables jihadists and other extremists to find one another. This leads Cass Sunstein, the American legal scholar, to argue that the Internet contributes to group polarisation.[viii]

    Worryingly, in academia free speech is now often bound by commercial sponsors, such as the Ford Foundation. In this context of academic self-abnegation and outright ass-kissing it is worth recalling the observation of Karl Marx that there is no point, after all, speaking on Hyde Park Corner when you have nothing to eat. Empowering those without a capacity for speech to the extent of your own is a lawyer’s vocation.

    Speech and communication allow people to do good and negate bad. An understanding of the nuances and tropes of speech also leads towards untangling disinformation, lies and misrepresentations. Online commercial advertising, which often illegally targets its audiences, cannot draw on the defence of freedom of speech.

    Furthermore, there seems little point supressing so-called hate speech, while permitting post-truth circumlocutions and psycho-babble to run riot. Nonsense deserves no protection, and Mr Zuckerberg is the last person we should entrust with regulating this.

    [i] Spencer Kimball, ‘Zuckerberg backs stronger Internet privacy and election laws: ‘We need a more active role for governments’, March 30th, 2019, CNBC, https://www.cnbc.com/2019/03/30/mark-zuckerberg-calls-for-tighter-internet-regulations-we-need-a-more-active-role-for-governments.html, accessed 10/4/19.

    [ii] Anthony Lewis, Freedom for the Thought we Hate – A Biography of the First Amendment, New York, Basic Books, 2010.

    [iii] Snyder v Phelps 562 U.S. 443 (2011), https://supreme.justia.com/cases/federal/us/562/443/, accessed 26/4/19.

    [iv] Ronald Dworkin ‘The Right to Ridicule’, March 23rd, 2006, The New York Review of Books, https://www.nybooks.com/articles/2006/03/23/the-right-to-ridicule/, accessed 26/4/19.

    [v] Stephen Sedley, Law and the Whirligig of Time, London, Hart Publishing, 2018.

    [vi] Ludwig Wittgenstein, Tractaus Logico Philoophicus, London, Keegan Paul, 1922.

    [vii] The Editorial Board, ‘There May Soon Be Three Internets. America’s Won’t Necessarily Be the Best.’, October 15th, 2018, The New York Times, https://www.nytimes.com/2018/10/15/opinion/internet-google-china-balkanization.html, accessed 26/4/19.

    [viii] Cass Sunstein, ‘The Law of Group Polarization’, University of Chicago Law School, John M. Olin Law & Economics Working Paper No. 91, December 13th, 1999. https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=199668, accessed 26/4/19.