It has become a weary trope to say that the only development really born of the Arab spring is that of the Islamic State: government founded on brutal, quasi-religious authoritarianism whose power derives from a cooption and rehabilitation of God in the image of violence.

So does The Economist claim in its January 9 analysis of what it now calls the Arab winter and which others have grown fond of calling the Islamist winter. “In ghastly irony,” the Islamic State is “the only truly new model of government,” the publication writes, as if government founded on religious-based oppression were in anyway new. It is a necessity of the monotheistic conception of God that He is endowed with absolute authority, and from there, no matter the society, it can only be a matter of time before someone turns that authority to nefarious end.

Let there be no expectation that this column posit any sort of thesis about what should be done to help fix the wildfires that have consumed the region since 2011. I cannot do so, nor do I think it is my place to try. It is my view, rather, that Western observers and journalists are incapable of understanding the forces that have come to dictate state action in the Middle East given that they do not obtain in the Western world.

The paradigm from which the West operates is so fundamentally different from the reality of the Middle East that all of our criticisms and suggestions are of precious little more help than an especially loud thunderclap. And our actions themselves are positively destructive. Let us not forget what The Economist deemed “America’s spectacularly inept occupation of Iraq”. Not inept: ruinous. Iraq Body Count (IBC) estimates up to 171,000 documented civilian deaths following my country’s 2003 mission to liberate and democratise. And IBC only reports Iraqi civilian lives lost, an account that leaves out the West’s intervention and our subsequent exit served to destabilise power relations in the region. A destabilisation, which, among other impacts, has led to roughly 250,000 deaths in Syria alone.

So when The New York Times Editorial Board sanctimoniously writes, “What is needed, and has long been needed, is an immediate end to the [Syrian] civil war,” one is forced to wonder how the editors of the paper of record are so “spectacularly inept” at not saying stupid shit. I allude, of course, to Obama’s explicit foreign policy of not “doing stupid shit,” which at the very least has for America the advantage of making it harder to blame us when things again go awry.

Obama’s might be the only cogent foreign policy that is coherent with my thesis. To really grasp how little the West understands the Middle East, let us look at its interactions with Israel, a country whose values are the same as its own: life, liberty, equality, justice and rationality. But Israel has on it a constraint, one that holds across the region: it exists under constant threat.

When Ben Franklin made his comment in Poor Richard’s Almanack about the inviolability of liberty in a true democracy, he was professing a truth in political philosophy. Truth in political practice is different. The state, democratic or not, ablest to defend against internal and external threats and thereby ensure its survival, is not the moral but the strong one. Hence why Israelis are willing to sacrifice some of their values and elect bullies like Netanyahu and far-right parties into office. They perceive their state as being under siege.

And when other democracies, ostensibly with the objective of convincing Israel to reclaim its morality, pile on with constant opprobrium, to the point where they seem to criticise more than support, the siege is only worsened and the sentiment of isolation further entrenched. Which is not to say we should not engage in criticism of Israel if doing so is what strikes us as right – but when we do, we must recognise that first, we do so for ourselves and second, we have so little conception of real fear that we spent trillions as the result of one terrorist attack.

One can generalise from Israel. The rest of the Middle East faces the same dual external threat Israel does: coercive and moralising force from the West along with a deep, underlying schism pitting religious denomination against religious denomination. Hence, state leaders in the Middle East recognised that in order to maximise the strength they could exert in external protection, they had to suppress internal threat, which they accomplished by means of military or religion. There was, if not peace, then at least some form of equilibrium.

Act I     Scene 1

Enter BUSH and BLAIR

While in South Africa this Christmas, I opened the local newspaper and news from Oxford was on page three. The Cape News had published an article on the success of the Rhodes Must Fall campaign at Oxford University. The article reported that a motion to take down Cecil Rhodes’ memorial statue displayed outside Oriel College was under construction. This surprised me: why was Oriel giving in to the student protesters and what did such a concession really mean? I started to ask the local people around me what they thought of Rhodes and his legacy, and to consider their reaction to the campaign. I was inspired to write this article based upon the responses I received.

South African people celebrate Rhodes for his contributions to the country’s economy and appear able to overlook the negative aspects of his person, i.e. the violence and racism he was a proponent of, as a feature of his time. The inhabitants of Cape Town remember Rhodes for: contributing the vision for and funds to construct the beautiful University of Cape Town; founding a diamond and gold business; and campaigning for the protection of huge areas of gardens and forest. Rhodes granted a generous legacy to the people of Cape Town in his will, as well as money for the famous Rhodes Scholarships and new buildings in Oxford, which we are all familiar with.

Distilled down, Rhodes is considered by local people in South Africa to have been a brilliant businessman, a generous philanthropist and a great builder of infrastructure. Contrary to what you might expect the epitaph of “British imperialist” was not once bestowed on Rhodes by those I spoke to. It is arguable that the memory of the Dutch Boers, as holders of power in the country, has been treated more cruelly by South African history than the memory of the British colonialists. I was struck that David, who worked on the hotel concierge desk, praised the British for their history of investing in and creating opportunities in South Africa, while juxtaposing this with how the Boers pillaged the wealth in South Africa for personal gain.

It is now common, with hindsight, to discard and discredit the achievements of British imperialism and instead focus on and judge the negative aspects of British colonial history by the standards of our modern, democratic society. However we were certainly not the only, nor necessarily the most culpable, Western colonial power to invade South Africa. The Boers relied on rifles and slave labour to exploit the territories they occupied – do the Dutch remember their colonial contributions with as much shame as is the current trend in Britain?

I was surprised that in South Africa, a country which is now so sensitive to racial inequality due to the terrible memory of apartheid, people do not talk about the fact Rhodes was racist. This facet of his memory is simply condemned as part of South African history, which was inevitably a product of social construction, as opposed to a unique flaw in Rhodes. Indeed, it is easy to forget, in the fog of campaign fervour, to ground debate in historical context and contemporary social opinions. Judging Rhodes by our 21st century standards merely highlights why and how far society has advanced whilst accepting and understanding the reality of history requires an open mind and unobstructed access to facts: a duo which campaigners tend to neglect.

Considered rationally, the positive responses of South Africans to my questions about Rhodes are unsurprising. However, they surprised me as an individual who had only been encouraged to damn him by the reporting of the Oxford student press. Like him or not, Rhodes, along with his contemporary and adversary Paul Kurger, was a central figure in the development and creation of what became the Union of South Africa in 1910.

Just because we no longer endorse the attitudes of the past does not mean that the accurate and realistic historical record remaining in the form of works of art and architecture should be photoshopped to make the past more palatable to the present. No modern, educated person agrees with Rhodes’ 19th century values. He was a violent supremacist, abhorrent racist and diamond racketeer. But his statue in Oriel College is a fitting memorial to thank Rhodes for the £200,000 (in current valuation, £44million) he left to the college in his will. If Oriel is to take such a statue down, will they not take down the buildings which his endowment built? The removal of the statue would create a slippery slope and should not be a watershed in how individuals are remembered by history.

We often forget what a privilege hindsight is. Just because modern thinking does not condone the use of slaves for building the pyramids, nor the policies of the pharaohs who ordered their construction, does not mean that a wonder of the world should be torn down. Just because we no longer practice bigotry and execution does not mean the portrait of Henry VIII in the dining hall of Christ Church should be removed. Historical figures who we are now so quick to criticise, cannot be forgotten and instead should be recognised for their positive and negative contributions to history, and importantly should be remembered in the context of the time they were alive. History can teach to avoid repetition of the mistakes of our forebears. How can we do this if their mistakes are whitewashed?

I worry that the removal of Rhodes’ statue in Oriel College could have future implications for philanthropy. If Rhodes, who benevolently left part of his fortune to educate future generations, is being vociferously hounded over a hundred years after his death for behaviour that was an aspect of life how he knew it, how will the campaigners of the future denounce today’s donors? Will Bill Gates or Warren Buffet also receive the same treatment in years to come for conduct our generation deems acceptable, but with the privilege of hindsight, is not?

To conclude, removing the statue of Rhodes in Oriel College does not mean that the injustice of the past he occupied will disappear too, in fact, it would do little to help those currently suffering at the hands of the issues in discussion. Concentrating the campaign to the damning of one individual, who was a lone figure rather than the embodiment of institutional racism, is not going to affect the problem nor account for the society that Rhodes is being forced to represent. Selectively redacting historical records jeopardises our ability to fully understand the legacy of the past and its continuing impact on the present. Removing the Rhodes statue would merely set a dangerous precedent for artefacts of historical significance around the world.

As we rapidly approach the end of the first month of 2016, many of the dangers that lie ahead for the democratic West and its values have become progressively clearer. Just days into the New Year, diplomatic ties between regional giants Saudi Arabia and Iran were abruptly ended, threatening to throw the Middle East into yet more disorder. The global economy too sputtered, as fears about China’s beleaguered economy led to a fall of seven per cent on global markets this month.  

This August, it will have been nine years since the first active phase of the 2007 financial crisis, and in many respects the world hasn’t quite returned to normalcy. Interest rates are still at a historic low and much of Europe remains buried in debt. We are far behind where we were when the last crash happened; some consider a new crash as highly likely, or even imminent, with even George Osborne joining the chorus to warn of the ‘cocktail of risks’ ahead.

The economy this year is ensnared by deep and troubling uncertainty. Osborne’s cocktail – slowed Chinese growth, recession in the BRICs, and excessively cheap oil and copper – are threats enough, but even more lurk behind the shadows. Just as in 2007, financial regulation is once again a key suspect, with politicians worried that the Financial Conduct Authority is at risk of ‘falling asleep at the wheel’ just as its predecessor, the Financial Services Authority, was accused of doing in the last crisis.

The major fear this time, however, is that another crash could prove lethal to global capitalist institutions. The last crash almost dealt a knockout blow, with the UK a mere two hours away from total economic collapse according to then-Chancellor Alistair Darling. Another crash, if as deeply painful and as widely felt as the last one, could exacerbate the economic pain felt after five years of austerity. With the Chancellor’s new ‘living wage,’ unemployment could shoot up and the crowning achievement of the last government, economic stability, left a relic of a more hopeful time.

The political ramifications are equally unpredictable. Whilst a few months earlier it would have been reasonable to assume a crash to be followed by a resurgence of interest in Corbynite socialism, there is plenty of evidence that such an event would only benefit the populist right. In the US, Donald Trump and Ron Paul have used fears of a crash as a vindication of their belief in even freer markets; the inevitable European complications of any crash could poison the referendum debate and give Nigel Farage yet another weapon to use against the European Union. Almost 43 years of co-operation with Europe to create the world’s largest single market could be thrown away for what have always been quite unclear rewards.

Against this dangerous backdrop, the situation in the Middle East shows no sign of improving. Though the Coalition’s air-strikes against Islamic State have reduced the so-called state’s territorial control, stability won’t return to the region without improved relations between Saudi Arabia and Iran. Political change in Saudi Arabia present a threat as well; as the world’s second largest oil producer, an uneasy transition threatens to play havoc with the region. The threat of terrorism, of which we were so brutally reminded in Paris, could also escalate as Islamic State loses more and more territory. New security threats will also emerge; from Islamists in north Africa to further Russian aggression in the Ukraine, the turbulence of the last few years will not fade away.

When 2016 comes to a close, the world may not be a darker place than it was as 2015 ended. Just as when 2014 ended, it is easy to find risks and dangers ahead. Our minds are adapted to do so with ease. Though there are risks, and they do pose a serious threat to our economic and political security, it is worth not overstating the dangers. For every gloomy prediction made about the last year, two predictions were missed about the wondrous opportunities and progress made by humanity. Rubella was eradicated from the Americas last year, Cuba and America re-established diplomatic relations and a much parroted hard landing in China looks set to be relatively soft. In December, the Paris Agreement committed all countries to reduce their carbon emissions for the first time ever. Even the years we find dark as we look back had their glimmers of hope.

In spite of all this, there is much cause for caution in the year to come. Ultimately, disaster is never far away, and 2016 could be its year. The threats to our security – from economic collapse to Middle Eastern crisis – have no reason in particular to be the threats that bring Britain and the West to its knees, but they equally demand our time and attention. Just over a hundred years ago, Britain became involved in a war stated to ‘end all wars.’ Unfortunately, the battle for peace and prosperity looks set to go on and on.     

When I first read Adams’ piece I was confused; was I reading a news article about the tragedy that is the refugee crisis, or was I reading a romantic novel, or even a travel brochure? There’s some lovely prose about the sea spray and the sun’s rays, but upon finishing reading I could not recall a single piece of meaningful information. The crux of the problem is that amongst his poetic narration and patronising quips, Adams essentially ignores the implications of what he is describing on human life.

The reader is encouraged to view the whole situation as if it were a spectacle. Look at that proud Englishman help the eager, but incompetent, Greeks! Observe these “extraordinary events” as they unfold in front of you! Don’t worry about doing anything, just enjoy the juxtaposition of the unmoving flamingos and the bustling refugees! Adams has written something romantic, cinematic, and entirely inappropriate for such a serious issue. But the problem doesn’t just lie in the writing style. It’s the fact that the article not only patronises everyone who reads it, but, in doing so, totally obscures what is actually going on.

Adams fails to mention the effects of the bitter cold the winter will bring across Europe – the same coldness that permeates the tone of his article. Slightly unbelievably, it’s treated as a saviour. For some of the residents of Lesbos, yes, it does offer a well-earned respite (however, also absent in the article is the barely disguised resentment towards the refugees from some of the residents of these Greek islands). But what about the refugees themselves, what does the winter mean for them? Apparently they’re only going to be slowed down for a little bit.

No mention is made of the extra suffering that these people will have to endure as they cross the sea – other than through an anecdote about the rough conditions forcing a professional back to shore (how an amateur smuggler with an overfilled inflatable boat will manage is left out). Nothing is said about their journey up through Greece and beyond. Yes, the border crossing between Greece and Macedonia is mentioned via the cute arguing Iranian family who ignore the wise UN official. But what is not mentioned is that the border is closed to anyone who can’t prove Syrian, Iraqi, or Afghan citizenship. Anyone else wishing to cross it in order to access the rest of the EU will have to sneak across at night, in the freezing cold, and often evading armed and not particularly nice policemen. The highest temperature at the border at the moment is approximately 1°C, and it is only going to go down from there. Once they cross the border, the refugees will have to walk through Serbia, Croatia, Slovenia, Hungary, Austria and beyond during winter. These aren’t countries known for their warmth. The gracious and relieving winter of Adams’ article will gift them with snow and rain and sub-zero temperatures. Many will die. Young children and men travelling alone with barely any clothes will be most vulnerable. Winter is not looking like so much fun after all.

Speaking of fun, didn’t the scene on the shore sound exciting? With people relieved to still be dry, and children being given sweets and those pesky Roma trying to get some of the “handouts”. Firstly, “handouts” are not given to the refugees. They are not being selfish or being given too much, as the word implies. On the island of Kos, at least, the charities there replace wet clothes with dry ones and give everyone food and water, among other things. Dry, warm clothes and a bite to eat are the difference between a person who will survive the night and one who won’t.

And the act of handing out of sweets to children perhaps hides the most of all. The children are not given sweets because that is their equivalent of a handout. They are given sweets, and toys too, because it is disconcerting to look into the eyes of a five-year old child and realise that those sunken, distant, traumatised eyes know more about life and death than you ever will. The sweets are to try and bring them back, make them smile – rescue them.

Lesbos is not a microcosm of the EU. Yes, less people cross into Greece and the islands will be generally given some relief. But the response from the rest of Europe cannot be to “take stock” or decrease – it has to increase in order to prevent suffering and to save lives. We don’t need to relax or stop our efforts because winter is coming. Europe and its citizens need, if anything, to do more to help what could quickly turn into a major humanitarian crisis. People will die from this cold, and we can stop it. People should donate shoes, coats, scarves, hats and any old winter gear laying around to any number of charities in Greece so that at least they can have more of a fighting chance when the real cold does hit. But they won’t if articles like Adams’ continue to appear; at best they are apathetic, and at worst they romanticise real, powerful, and heart-breaking human suffering.

You may read the original BBC article in full here:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-35210206