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Edin Karamazov – The Lute is A Song

At last we have an excuse to take more interest in the lute without simply tracing the whimsy of a washed-up Rock star (see Sting’s attempt). Bosnian born Lutenist, Edin Karamazov, has set out to create an album with the sole intention of making his instrument sing.
The collection of four songs and four pieces combine to form an incredible record which displays not only the sheer virtuosity of Karamazov himself, but also the incredible diversity and mystical nature of the lute.
Lute recordings may usually – perhaps understandably – remain ignored by the general public, but this album comes highly recommended to all open-minded music-lovers.
Excellent adaptations of iconic Baroque pieces, including Purcell’s ‘Dido’s Lament’ and J.S Bach’s ‘Toccata and Fugue in D minor’, stand out as exceptional examples of the expressional capabilities of the gigantic theorbo, an orchestral and solo instrument too often regarded as largely redundant, or simply as belonging only in the mid to late eighteenth century.
This record is a testimony to the revival and re-introduction of the lute. Karamazov is unafraid to juxtapose early music with modern: you may find more than you bargained for in this CD.
‘So Maki Sum Se Rodila’, a Macedonian folk song featuring the haunting voice of Kaliopi, is a beautiful articulation of both performers’ Balkan heritage, and adds to the cultural diversity of chosen tracks.
Edin Karamazov is joined by several friends along the way, including highly esteemed figures such as the countertenor Andreas Scholl, soprano Renée Fleming and even the aforementioned international nuisance Sting.
It was only a relatively short time ago that Sting was assisted by the Bosnian to assemble his own album of John Dowland’s seventeenth century lute songs, bringing early music, and the lute, into the spotlight after its considerably long  wait in the shadow of ‘popular classical music’.
Karamazov light heartedly admits that he may be only the second most famous Lutenist after Sting, but in the wake of this record it seems clear that this relegation to second place is no just indication of his talent as a musician.

3/5

Interview: MC Lars

Californian rapper Andrew Nielsen—alias MC Lars—is the architect of post-punk laptop rap. Lars was a visiting student at Corpus Christi between years at Stanford University and has returned to the town many times whilst touring.
His new album, This Gigantic Robot Kills, sees MC Lars maintaining his unique style of ‘nerdcore’ whilst also diversifying from his usual comedic rap.
Although he has moved from recording beats in his bedroom to laying them down in professional studios, his style of commenting on pop culture and life events in a knowing and amusing way has not changed.
Dan Gallacher caught up with him at his gig at Oxfords O2 Academy.

To readers who don’t know MC Lars, how would you describe your music?

It’s post-punk in that it takes the ideologies of bands like post-first generation punk bands who used different sounding music with DIY messages. It’s laptop rap because it’s hip-hop I do on my computer. I tell people it’s the Beastie Boys with a little Chemical Brothers and some ‘Weird Al’ Yankovic.

You started your own record label, Horris Records, how much of a challenge has this been?

This Gigantic Robot Kills came out of a partnership with Horris Records and Oglio Records, under the guise of Jaret from Bowling for Soup’s new label Crappy Records. It was a challenge putting the album together but these guys helped me with the final tweaks and mixes. I’m all about giving away music for free, but with their involvement we are going the brick and mortar retail route and are kicking butt on both fronts. Bowling for Soup took me on tour in 2005 and are working on a new CD, staying in the pop-punk game. They are very great guys.
 
You’ve played in Japan, Australia and the UK. Do you worry some of your lyrics, like ‘Hyphy’, or ‘crunk’, get lost in translation?

People always ask us ‘what does hyphy mean?’ Crunk is pretty universal I’ve found, but there’s always that cultural clash when you bring up subcultures to different people. The Internet has kept everyone pretty much informed though, so the cultural divide has shrunk in the past few years.
 
BBC Radio 1 are celebrating thirty years since The Sugarhill Gang released ‘Rapper’s Delight’, which they see as the first ever Hip Hop track.  Would you agree?

‘Rapper’s Delight’ was the first hit rap single, but the first rap song was ‘King Tim III (Personality Jock)’ by the Fatback Band, which came out a few months before ‘Rapper’s Delight’…but of course that Sugarhill song was the epic hit so Radio 1 is right to give it its proper respects.

Anyone who’s heard your music or seen some of the T-shirts you wear will know your weren’t a big fan of George Bush, how do you think Barack Obama’s doing after his first few months? Is Obama punk rock?
 
Obama is punk rock in that he’s a self made man. Bush was an example of old world politics and conservative ideologies. I guess we’ll have to see how Obama does, but I definitely voted for him and definitely believe in him.
 
You lived and studied in Oxford in 2003.  What was your favourite Oxford haunt?  Did you discover any hidden gems that the readers should check out?

My favorite places in Oxford to hang out were the Radcliffe Camera and the Cellar on Cornmarket Street. George and Danver was always awesome too!

A lyric in your new song ‘Hipster Girl’ states ‘Donnie Darko makes no sense’ yet my housemate tells everyone he understands it. Is he talking rubbish?

 
It’s a very complicated plot. If you’re willing to accept the fact that physics, logic and the linear progression of time can be changed however you want arbitrarily, then it makes sense. I just don’t like how Jake Gyllenhaal is so surly and dysfunctional.

And what’s next for MC Lars?

 I’ve got an Australian tour, a US tour, then I’m back to the UK, and then hopefully will be getting to work on the new album!

Interview: Ian Hislop

No democracy exists without the freedom to mock those at the top; satire is the cornerstone of a democratic state. That makes Ian Hislop, editor of  Private Eye and Have I Got News For You team-captain, a pretty important cog in the democratic machine. You might expect a cut-throat, stop-at-nothing vendor of grime and gossip, when you imagine the man behind the fall of Jeffrey Archer and Robert Maxwell.  A world away from the middle-aged, chuckling man sitting opposite me.

Don’t be fooled; Hislop’s dogged determination to sniff out the truth from the lies has landed him in court countless times, earning him the dubious title ‘the most sued man in British history’. Emerging from the extended court case with the wife of Peter Sutcliffe (The Yorkshire Ripper), who tried to claim up to £600,000 from the Eye, Hislop cheekily quipped ‘if that’s justice then I’m a banana’. His flippancy concealed relief; he appeared in court that day prepared to be sent to prison, toothbrush in briefcase.

Hislop sits behind a large wooden desk in Private Eye’s musty head-quarters. His slightly grizzly appearance merges with the office around him, as though over eighteen years as editor-in-chief, it has become an extension of himself. Private Eye cartoons hang haphazardly on the walls, winking cheekily down at the piles of papers and randomly-placed chairs which litter his editor’s den.
‘Satire should mock the strong’ he begins, speaking firmly and directly, unlike the politicians he pokes fun at. ‘There’s a strong tradition of it in Britain, which aids freedom and democracy’.  

Hislop agrees with one of his few heroes, Alexander Pope; satire is the ‘exposure of vice, folly and humbug’.  Some examples?; ‘fiddling expenses’, deceiving shareholders…’ Politics hasn’t changed much in 300 years then. Hislop speaks angrily about the way politicians treat the public like they are stupid; and equally, praises the British press’s ‘rumbustious attitude’ towards authority figures. ‘This government has an authoritarian streak, but the press are always there to expose them’. Exposing people is at the heart of Hislop’s job; ‘my duty is to ask ‘Is that true?’ and to investigate’.

Hislop talks about his former self with a wistful admiration; the quick, sparky Oxford graduate who controversially became editor at 26.  ‘It is good when you are younger because you are more confident. This is one of the advantages of youth. They asked me if I wanted to edit the magazine with hardly any experience and I said ‘no problem’. Now I am a lot more careful.’  He claims, at least;  there have been times when the magazine has had to appeal to its loyal readers to save it from being made bankrupt by under the weight of libel cases.

Has he lost his nerve then, over the years? ‘I am more keen to get things right now, to run the correct stories and target the right people. Some stories turn out not to be true and you think ‘I wish I hadn’t run that’.  
All of which has its consequences. ‘Its reasonable that people should dislike me. You have to develop a thick-skin. I am much more thick-skinned now than when I first took the job.’ The resulting feuds can be public; mocking Piers Morgan on Have I Got News certainly brought Hislop more than he bargained for.
I ask him whether he’s ever stumped, especially on television.  Appropriately enough, his answer comes without hesitation: ‘Never’.  Both Private Eye and Have I Got News, he explains, provide a means to release pent-up frustration. ‘I often listen to the radio seething with irritation; Have I Got News is a platform. I’ve always fancied a platform where I could mouth off. Its a way to vent steam’. Hislop, who never misses an episode of the quiz show, hosts a team opposite co-star Paul Merton. He is the ‘witty one’, coming in with cutting quips and clever puns. I ask him whether he has a TV persona. He replies carefully that it’s an exaggerated version of himself; ‘friends and family will tell you that I’m just that bit more boring normally!’ Surprisingly, Hislop does admit that he’s ‘always nervous beforehand’.

Hislop is an efficient mix of ruthlessness and steely determination when it comes to exposing lies.  If I were Brown I would be quaking in my boots, for Hislop- master satirist- is not a fan. ‘Labour government?!’ He scoffs. ‘This is not what people expect from a left wing government’. He is staunch in his opinion. ‘The people of Britain are badly served by the government. There is nothing to grab them, nothing to choose from. Little surprise they are becoming more apolitical.’ I know better than to ask his own political leanings; though he does let slip that ‘Vince Cable seems at times to be the only sensible person in parliament’. When I suggest that flow of speech in this country isn’t as free as it could be, he immediately puts things into perspective, showing a level-headedness which balances his taste for scandal. ‘Lets put it this way; there are no satirical magazines in Beijing.’ 
But is satire dying out?  ‘Political correctness’, Hislop spits, ‘is a term used by the Right to get people to shut up, and by authoritarian governments to insure that nobody writes anything bad about them’. Ironically, another pet-hate of Hislop’s puts him on the same side as arch-nemesis Piers Morgan. ‘The tightening of privacy laws are a threat to freedom of speech. Its difficult to see yourself on the same side as the Daily Mail, but these laws make it easy for the rich and powerful to get away with things. They will be able to control what we know about them’.

As he starts to talk politics, Hislops frustrations emerge. ‘Since 9/11 there’s been a steady erosion of civil liberties under the pretense that its necessary…Terrorism isn’t a new phenomenon. I remember when the IRA bombed Oxford Street’. A stiff-upper lip is all that’s needed then? ‘Yes.’  And the same goes for the credit Crunch. He refers to the last economic meltdown; ‘In a similar climate of unemployment in the thirties, Oswald Mosley (founder of the British Union of Fascists) failed to spread fascism, simply because people’s reaction to him was one of laughter: PG Wodehouse turned him into a ludicrous figure of fun in the novel ‘Code of the Woosters’, and he was forced off the scene.’ 

Hislop’s frank manner is refreshing, rather than blunt, cutting through the proverbial political bullshit; ‘Why is the government blanketing the whole population in the name of wiping out terrorism? Why are they clamping down on protests?’ Why indeed.

Hislop is optimistic about young people, blaming flaws in the system rather than laziness for the apparent lack of political zest amongst the youth. He rejects the belief that youngsters are only interested in reading about film and music celebrities. ‘We do not believe in ‘catering’ for young people. Its condescending to think they only want to read about popstars – the number of them involved in organisations like ‘Liberty’ and ‘Amnesty’ demonstrates this.’ Do you target any audience at all, young or old? ‘No, what we put in the magazine comes from things I like and find funny.’ This apparently simple strategy works. Private Eye is read by over 700,000 people, and sales are increasing.

Hislop is a moralistl, not a gossip; dedicated to truth, not lies.  When I ask him whether he isn’t sometimes just a little tempted to make use of his position to finish a grudge or two, his answer is honest: ‘I try not to’. Does he ever think about giving it all up, trying something different? ‘Sometimes. But then I think, what else would be this much fun?’

Review: Sunday Times Oxford Literary Festival

As usual, I was late. Cruel fate had decided to put many interesting events on at 10am which is, as everyone knows, four hours before internationally accepted vacation waking time.

But the sleep deprivation was worth it. I’d been expecting a bunch of writers to read their work and then wait to sign hopefully newly-purchased books, and to be fair, there were plenty such events, some better than others – but was floored by the sheer variety of what else was on offer.

‘Literary’ wasn’t just a codeword for schmoozing over classics, or the writings of an old boy network, but embraced pretty much anything and everything in writing. There were books and discussions about science, politics, food, art, architecture, even a malt whisky tasting.

Some of the higher-profile events included the first annual lecture on ‘Englishness’, delivered by the Archbishop of York, Dr. John Sentamu, and the Sunday Times Award for Literary Excellence ceremony, in which Ian McEwan was duly honoured.

I was more interested in the national final for Off by Heart, which is the BBC’s new poetry reciting competition for 7-11 year olds. Not just because I’m a fan of poetry, but also because you’re allowed to laugh at kids more than authors and archbishops.

Talented and often funny performances were put on by all, especially the 10 year old winner Yazdan Qafouri Isfahani, whose exuberant charm was buoyed up by a snazzy outfit that made him look like Michael Jackson out of Thriller (minus the creepiness).

The adults did provide some entertainment too. A debate on who was the greater writer, Orwell or Dickens, saw a lively and light-hearted exchange between the four speakers, including the hilariously deadpan comedian Hardeep Singh Kohli. It didn’t make much difference to people’s opinions in the end, but was definitely enjoyable.

I also took the chance to attend events to satisfy my inner self-help junkie. One of the most engaging talks was given by Abbot Christopher Jamison, best known from the reality TV show The Monastery, who discussed some of the ideas from his new book Finding Happiness.

Obviously he considered religion as fundamental to happiness, although when asked what to do if one didn’t believe in gods, his response was disarmingly direct: ‘Become a Buddhist.’

More worryingly at one point, the abbot stated that a key to appreciating religion was to wake early enough to watch the sun rise, but my faith in him was restored when he hastily added, ‘Except for teenagers.’ Apparently it’s enough for the hormonally advantaged to pray at night, with candles as solar substitutes.

While a lot of these events often put forward familiar viewpoints, some managed to venture further. At the Oxford Poets & Refugee Writers event, for example, refugees who’d had the chance to work with local poets read aloud their life stories turned into poetry.

True, it wasn’t great poetry with all the bells and whistles of the English tradition, but the poems’ rawness often added to their force. It’s difficult to deny the empowering and cathartic effect literature can sometimes have when you listen to someone read about their experience of being raped, beaten, or losing their children, and most people in the room were visibly moved.
Similarly enlightening was a discussion on how disabled characters were portrayed in contemporary literature. The key issue was that disabled characters’ lives were often portrayed as revolving almost solely around their disability, although a lot more about disability in general was said by the three speakers.

The panel itself was diverse, comprising of the very witty former Head of Comedy Development at Carlton TV, Nigel Smith, and the Canadian playwright and literary manager Alex Bulmer, both of whom talked frankly about the experience of dealing with their own disabilities.

The third member, the able-bodied writer Adam Mars-Jones, also read a scene from his work in which two adolescent boys in a school for disabled children play at being secret agents. Skilfully interwoven with the homoerotic elements were meticulous descriptions of, for example, how one of the boys handles the supports he uses to assist his polio-crippled legs.

Ultimately, it’s these little unexpected glimpses which drew me in and stayed with me afterwards. And I was glad that the Sunday Times Oxford Literary Festival had embraced a definition of literature that celebrated as many voices as possible, both expected and unexpected.

Of course, that’s just what appealed to me. The beauty of such variety is that there really is something for everybody.

Interview: Alain de Botton

Alain de Botton is the closest Britain has to a celebrity intellectual; his learned Harrovian tones have become a regular fixture on prime time television and his books regularly top best-seller lists. Embracing popular media has earned de Botton a considerable readership, which is unsurprising given his preferred subjects’ broad appeal: his work, like his latest offering, The Pleasures and Sorrows of Work, tends to analyse aspects of everyday life.

However, de Botton’s ‘philosophy of the everyday’ has divided critical opinion, receiving glowing praise from some while suffering searing criticism from others.  But if critics dislike him, academics hate him. He explains: ‘Academics don’t like me at all… they told me that my book on Proust was the worst they’d ever read.’ But this doesn’t trouble de Botton. Although often classified as such, he rarely considers himself an academic: ‘I don’t see myself as a philosopher, my background is in the history of ideas.’

‘But why work?’ I asked. He explains that work provides us with a purpose and orders our lives, but other reasons stick in my mind: ‘I enjoy the interested, not disinterested, pursuit of knowledge… and I still have lingering questions over my own career. I had a curiosity that I might discover something about myself.’  

Despite his reluctance to accept the ‘intellectual’ label, his analysis is littered with references to academics: Freud, Rousseau and Weber to name a few. But it always remains accessible. For example, he explains what he believes we need for job satisfaction: ‘We want the job to feel meaningful… We [need to] have increased the pleasure or decreased the suffering of other individuals. But we don’t all need to be firemen or nurses; this can constitute reuniting someone with their luggage or sanding their banister.’

Sounds good to me, if a little obvious. I’d expect to be bored listening to a balding Cambridge graduate talking about United Biscuits, but I found myself engaged. Although he is talks about mundane subjects, often dressed up in pompous language, it’s near impossible to disagree with him. That being said, he does skirt over important issues with alarming casualness – financial security appeared in his analyses only as an afterthought.

Not only did de Botton’s explanation of his latest work have the ring of truth about it (kind of), it was often marvellously entertaining. ‘Offices are rather erotic places’ is one sentence I’m sure I won’t forget any time soon.

De Botton’s witty insights do make him an entertaining author, but for some, his playful, intelligent brand of self-help falls short this time round. He often sounds like he has never had a proper job, and hence his claims of personal career crises sometimes smack of insincerity. But, nevertheless, he also seemed capable of making sense of the rather more woolly areas surrounding work. Issues like meaning, satisfaction and the provision of order. So despite those reservations, I left content, thinking that he’d done a pretty good job of it.

Interview: Ian McEwen

In receiving the Sunday Times Award for Literary Excellence, Ian McEwan, author of Atonement and Saturday, has joined the ranks of Margaret Atwood, Ted Hughes, Tom Stoppard, Muriel Spark and Seamus Heaney.
McEwan describes his own style as ‘vaguely unprepossessing’, but you can sense he thinks more of it than that. Yet who could blame him? Here is a man who is frequently described as perhaps the greatest living writer of modern fiction. A little smugness is therefore at least permissible. McEwan exhibits no false modesty, nor claims it when he says that in the 1970s, his ‘intellectual maturation’ represented ‘an explosion in [his] mind’.
He is, however, at least thoughtful, and his status as a fiction giant whose literature revolves around the macabre sides of ‘psychological and social phenomena’ was bound to induce some form of pretension.
The upside of this is that he can spin a good-sounding yarn. The downside shows itself in his apparent characterisation of his fellow students at Sussex as ‘intellectually infantile’ compared to his ambitious dreams and cerebral pursuits — he dismisses his classmates with the casual remark that they were ‘filled with rather different ideas about how to spend their time.’
Starting out in North Africa, McEwan describes his first recollection of being fascinated by a book, the children’s novel ‘The Gauntlet’, in which a young hero slips on an old glove and is hurled back in time to the middle ages. His description of this odd experience as a catalyst for his love of fiction appears to stem more from a desire to create a neat and tidy chain of events than from a genuine desire to present the truth. But it chimes well with McEwan’s self-confessed obsession with the bizarre coincidences that appear to hold such potency in the lives of every ordinary and extraordinary man.
More likely his discovery at a precociously young age of Iris Murdoch, and his childhood upbringing which included considerable familiarity with a North African Library, kindled an imagination that has never left him.
All this was realised in his degrees, his BA in English Literature from Sussex and his MA in Creative Writing from the University of East Anglia. Oxford boasts of its tutorial system of one tutor to only one or two students, but in his MA course, he was the sole student on a course with two tutors; a remarkably privileged education.
Otherwise, McEwan was quite reticent about influences on his writing and reading of his own work. He claimed that the filming of Atonement had absolutely no impact at all. When asked about the influence of Oxford (he lived in the North of Oxford for many years), he first denied any connection and then, when pressed, decided that it is at least, ‘a nice place to work’.
He didn’t seem to be able to identify any non-literary sources of influence on his work, or the creative processes of his mind. The only one that he did let on was when he mentioned that ‘happiness doesn’t sell books’; it is easy to forget that even literary giants have bank accounts that exert a very real influence on their writing style.
Meeting McEwan gave the impression that he puts a lot of himself into his work: a sense of confidence bordering on arrogance on the one hand, but also an obsession with, and a perceptive affinity for, psychological analysis. Self-important, thoughtful and even slightly cynical would go well to describe both the man and his writings, which he is set to expand shortly with a book about ‘a short, fat man who was possessed of a disposition that was utterly irresistible to women. At least, that’s what he thought, and thinking seemed to make it so’. Given his excitement for the project, I have no doubt it will constitute an important addition to his canon, and further justify McEwan’s selection for this prestigious accolade.

Hostage to the Law

It was the morning of the G20 protest, and the capital was poised for action. The words ‘this day will go down in history’ were on everyone’s lips. Little did we know that the day would be remembered for the actions of the riot police, rather than the agenda of the activists. Headlines following the demonstration called it a bloody battle between ‘good coppers’ and ‘violent anarchists’.  Until the release of videos began, telling a different story.
I was among the thousands drawn to the epicenter of London’s business playground on 1st April. Some came out of curiosity, others out of a conviction for change, and a very few to incite chaos. I joined the ‘green’ arm of the protest, which left Liverpool Street at 11am.  There would be the odd blurting out of ‘Make love not money!’ from a hippy bunch, and sporadic calls of ‘Shame!’ from others, but most ‘rioters’ rambled on peacefully, holding banners and mock monster heads high. A girl next to me even passed out homemade cupcakes, with a cheerful ‘no protest is complete without cake’.
By the time we reached the RBS HQ, a florescent bulk of riot police had formed a ring around us, sending a tangible wave of resentment through the crowd. People around me had reacted to the bankers with some contempt, but that was nothing compared to the anger felt towards police. Chants of ‘Right to march!’ grew louder as the procession came to a halt at a wall of riot officers. Pressure grew, as those keen to be in on the action shoved past me to the front line. I stood next to a tiny, white-haired lady, looking positively terrified. Clutching packed lunch in hand, she had come because she believed that ‘authority should start at the bottom’. ‘Will this make a difference?’ I ask. ‘I hope so’. Her reply was automatic, distracted by a police helmet sent soaring over our heads.
As far as I could make out, police had become an uneasy representative of authority, the real cause of resentment. I chatted to a chap behind me, who became nervous at the sight of the fluorescent army. He seemed peaceable enough, despite the intimidating black scarf obscuring his features. When I asked him why he felt the need to cover his face he replied, ‘they’ve got me on record’ he said, ‘like all of us’, before disappearing into the pulsing crowd. Although this may seem paranoid, it seems he has reason to be worried. Recent investigations have revealed that police hold thousands of legal campaigners’ details on record. Names, political associations and photographs can be kept on the system for at least 7 years.
For a moment, when all four contingents of the march met at Bishops Gate, the menacing atmosphere caused by the over-heavy police presence was momentarily forgotten, and a carnival began. Some plonked down stereos and spontaneously started boogying; others simply sat back and enjoyed the sun, munching on sandwiches. Wandering through the now more dissipated crowd, I crossed the line from hysteria to hilarity. A couple of mums had collared their kids to take part in a role play of the ‘banker’s family’, and, complete with plastic champagne glasses and feather boas, were loudly (and ironically) championing banker’s bonuses. A group of excitable youngsters in black performed a ritualistic ‘hanging’ of a puppet banker on a traffic light, while others beat at the puppet vigorously with skateboards. Another sinister-looking trio meandered through the masses, two dressed as austere bankers, wheeling a barrow of fake money, the other a grinning cop with ‘vigilance control’ plastered on his uniform. But these were only gestures. With no knowledge of crowd control I could have picked out the real fire starters, those throwing themselves into the fray, apparently hell-bent on inciting chaos. These were a tiny minority of hooligans in an otherwise harmless crowd. Why then, in the name of ‘security’, did the police blanket-target us all?
They call it ‘Kettling’: jargon for keeping protesters penned in so violence is ‘contained’. This tactic contradicts Article 5 of the Human Rights Act, which sets out the right not to be deprived of liberty apart from in five well-defined, highly exceptional circumstances. There is certainly no mention of shouting and waving banners in the street.
The carnival mood soon turned sour as it became clear that we were prisoners. The situation was ludicrous. There we were, with little in common apart from a desire to make our voices heard, coralled like misbehaving cattle. Campaigners who had behaved peacefully up until that point became increasingly agitated by the onerous atmosphere, exacerbated by monosyllabic officers. The confined space suddenly became oppressive and, in the absence of a toilet, there were rivulets of pee in the street. ‘We’ll let you know when you’ll be released’, was all I got from one burly officer when I asked him what was going on. Another two young cops shifted nervously in their riot gear, as bemused by their orders as we were. Cries were heard of ‘I need to pick up my kids’, ‘I’m going to miss my train’; all met with the same embarrassed shrug of refusal. The lack of information added to the crowd’s frustration, turning into panic as violence broke out in one corner of the square.
The obscuring of information around the G20 protests has cast a cloud of doubt over police authenticity. It has now become clear that Ian Tomlinson’s death was due to internal bleeding caused by being hit by a policeman. The contradictions surrounding this fatality, which was initially alleged to have been ‘caused by  a heart attack’ are worrying. Why didn’t the outcome of the initial post mortem mention any signs of having been hit?
In desperation to be free protesters piled up against the lines of police, pushing. These were the same people who an hour earlier had been happy to do their bit and leave. Now they felt compelled to take the law into their own hands. As soon as the barricade was broken a mass of people made a run for it, and I joined the fray. As police blockades closed behind me, I felt like I was fleeing a crime scene. Those who had not managed to make a run for it were faced with another seven hours in captivity. When they were finally allowed to leave it was only on the condition that they gave their names and addresses and had their picture taken.
The men drafted in to police the G20 protests are no different to the rest of us, and shouldn’t be given specialist treatment. If a protester had attacked a passerby unprovoked he would have been handcuffed on the spot. Why has it taken irrefutable evidence for the police to finally face up to their faults?

Interview: Vince Cable

Telling my friends that I was going to interview Vince Cable I was met with an almost comical scope of reactions. From the politically apathetic “who?” to the wide eyed adoration of the PPE student; “wow, that absolutely amazing, that man’s a genius you know, ask him about… (cue long gabbled list.)”
However, one thing that most people asked me was, “How on earth did you manage to get an interview with him?” They have a point. Shadow chancellor for the liberal democrats, and deputy leader of the party – or acting leader when I spoke to him, as Nick Clegg was on paternity leave. On top of this formal list of credentials he is one of the most respected politicians of our age. His predictions about the recession have been nothing short of prophetic; he made the nation laugh by comparing Brown to Mr Bean; and I am yet to watch an episode of Question Time where any debate about the financial situation hasn’t included a comment along the lines of “maybe we should all just listen to Vince cable”.
So, how did I get the interview? Well, Vince Cable happens to be my local MP, and one of the things you learn as a constituent of Richmond and Twickenham is that Vince Cable doesn’t say no. He is one of those rare, high profile politicians who would bend over backwards for his local constituents and he is vastly popular. In today’s world of expenses scandals and backhanded tactics, where far too often politicians abjectly fail to connect with those who they are representing, what is it about Mr Cable that his sustained his popularity?

“His air when talking about his student experience is endearingly down to earth.”

A brief glance at Vince Cable’s background doesn’t separate him a huge amount from his peers in the House of Commons. A degree in Natural Sciences and Economics from Cambridge and a stint as president of the Cambridge Union seem enough to paint him with the ‘just another elitist politician’ brush. Yet his air when talking about his student experience is endearingly down to earth. When I ask why he chose Cambridge, he smiles, “Well, it was actually one of the few places that would have me. I applied to a number of the Oxford colleges and was rejected by them all, so I ended up at Fitzwilliam College Cambridge.” (He certainly knows how to charm an Oxford student).
Similarly, when quizzed about the Union he doesn’t mention any famous speakers, but instead focuses on his contemporaries. “I was lucky enough to be with a very competent group of individuals… One of the biggest influences on me was a friend who didn’t go on to become anyone famous. He became a humorist and taught me a great deal about the importance of humour in politics.”
 It was not until later in his life that Cable was elected into a political office. “I spent quite a while trying to get in. People don’t generally know that I failed a few times first.” He had however been politically active from early on, both at university and after. From 1971-74, he was a labour councillor in Glasgow: “There was a lot of poverty and important issues there at the time.” His enthusiasm for active involvement has not only characterised his career but comes through in everything he talks about.
He has a huge amount of praise for student activism and student politics in general. “I was lucky enough to be a student at a time when student politics was very active – there were some particularly emotive issues, such as the apartheid, in those days. When both of my children were at university they said that most people were quite politically apathetic. It’s good to hear that students are becoming interested again.” And does parliament take notice of student politics? “Of course, students are the future of politics”.
It has been in the last five or so years that Cable has become more of a household name. In the past twelve months especially, the depth of his economic understanding has thrust him into the political limelight.

“Gordon Brown lost his respect a long time ago”

He is refreshingly ‘matter of fact’ about the newfound media interest. “It’d not that bad really, I don’t object too much. I suppose I’ve had a more interesting private life as far as the media is concerned than other politicians.” He is talking about the loss of his first wife to breast cancer in 2001. He has since remarried but still wears the wedding rings from both of his marriages. There’s something endearing about him when he discusses it; when I ask him what issues he’s dealt with which he has been the most passionate about, the first thing he mentions is his push for more regular cancer screening. 
Whereas all around him politicians have such volatile relationships with the media, Cable’s approach to the attention was straight forward.  “You ask for it when you sign up to the job. A politician who complains about the media is like a fisherman who complains about the sea”.
Aside from his honesty with the press and his sophisticated economic understanding, Cable is known for his fierce loyalty to the Liberal Democrats. When I broach the subject of rumours that Brown has been asking him to leave the Lib Dems and work as an economic advisor in the current recession, he closes up, leans back in his chair and crosses his arms, “I have made it quite clear that I’m not interested in any proposal of that kind”. Do partisan loyalties ever hinder the course of best government? “British politics does have a tendency to be very tribal for sure, but the party in government can’t just pick off individuals from other places as they please.” Talking about the Brown administration he seems weary, describing it as “exhausted”.
“They quite simply have no idea how to get themselves out of this terrible mess. The thing is that it’s not as if the Conservatives would do any better.”
“Gordon Brown lost his respect a long time ago. There’s just no direction”
Vince Cable is likeable in a very surprising way. He couldn’t contrast more startlingly with slimy spin-masters like Blair or Cameron: there was none of the rhetoric, none of the fake smiles; he is in fact quite serious, to the point, and focused. There are moments when he really seems to relax, particularly when I ask about non political subjects; the fact that he is an accomplished ballroom dancer, for example (“Accomplished? Those are your words not mine”), and when I quiz him about his chosen ‘luxury item’ during his feature on Radio Four’s dessert island disks. “I like speed” he answers with that wry smile of his. “I said if it was a very large island equipped with petrol pumps I’d have an Aston Martin- But I’ve been somewhat criticised by my more environmentally conscious colleagues”.
He is, all in all, an extremely genuine man, and this seems to me the most obvious explanation as to why he has maintained his popularity in a climate where few others have. Being good at your job is no longer enough for politicians in today’s world. People want honesty, focus and engagement.

Vince Cable’s book ‘Storm: The World Economic Crisis and What it Means’ is available from Atlantic Books for £14.99

He will be speaking to the International Relations Society in Oxford on Thursday 30th April, 7.45 in the Oriel Lecture room

Five minute tute: Ending the M.A.D.ness

Is the goal of non-proliferation preventing the spread of weapons or destoying thsoe already in existence?

The ultimate goal of nuclear nonproliferation is to prevent additional states from acquiring nuclear weapons. The key number that must be avoided here is one. Nuclear nonproliferation efforts must prevent even a single nuclear weapon from being acquired by a nonweapons state. To achieve this, nuclear nonproliferation efforts try to prevent states from acquiring any nuclear materials, technology or equipment that could help them acquire nuclear arms without setting off alarm bells well before any bomb is actually built. Nuclear arms control, on the other hand, is about freezing or reducing the number of existing nuclear weapons that states possess. The key number here is some number above zero. Finally, nuclear disarmament is about eliminating all nuclear weapons holdings. The key number here is zero.

What steps are taken to achieve this aim?

The key steps include exports controls and interdiction of any nuclear materials, equipment or technology that is designed specifically to make nuclear weapons, such as nuclear weapons design information and nuclear weapons grade plutonium or highly enriched uranium. They also include international nuclear inspections designed to prevent diversion of civilian nuclear equipment and materials to make bombs. The latter are only effective if they can detect a diversion early enough to allow outside authorities sufficient time to intervene to prevent nuclear bombs from being built.

What incentive is there for countries to disarm while the US retains its weapons?

Despite the US and other countries possessing nuclear weapons, there are still reasons to avoid them. A key incentive for non-weapon states not to acquire nuclear weapons is to reassure their neighbors that they don’t have to acquire nuclear weapons either, avoiding a frightening, expensive nuclear arms competition.

Would adding Israel, India and Pakistan to the list of declared nuclear states further non-proliferation?

Adding Israel to the list definitely would complicate matters since it would probably goad its neighbors Egypt and Syria into openly acquiring nuclear weapons as well. It would be far better for Israel to stop producing nuclear fissile material for bombs and eventually to disarm quietly on the basis of nuclear restraints being placed on its neighbors as well. As for Pakistan and India, they are already declared nuclear weapons states, but not considered nuclear weapon states under the NPT. Doing so, however, would reward them for acquiring nuclear weapons by giving them access to controlled civilian nuclear goods, thus acting as an incentive for nother non-weapon states to follow. This is why the US-Indian nuclear cooperative agreement was so controversial. Strictly speaking, this deal is not supposed to help India acquire any more nuclear weapons per year than it was making prior to the deal. If it does (and it might since the deal allows India to import more nuclear fuel for its power reactors that could free up more domestic Indian ore for making nuclear bombs), it would be a violation of Article I of the NPT, which prohibits nuclear weapons states (e.g., Russia, the U.S. and France) from doing anything to help any nation that did not have nuclear weapons prior to 1967 to acquire or make more nuclear weapons).

Are the recent proposals by President Obama regarding a fuel bank and talks with Russia likely to have much of an impact on non-proliferation?

No. The proposed nuclear fuel bank would only provide a diplomatic talking point for those who fear that their supply of fuel for nuclear power reactors may be cut off. This, however, has only been done in the rare instance, e.g. Iran and India, when the country in question violated clear nuclear rules and was toying with acquiring nuclear weapons.
As for Mr. Obama’s other proposals to ratify a Comprehensive Test Ban Treaty (CTBT) and a Fissile Material Cut-off Treaty (FMCT), these too are mostly symbolic since the US, France, the UK, Russia and China are not generally suspected of still producing fissile for bombs or of nuclear testing. Neither of these treatoies are ever likely to be brought into force since countries like Pakistan, India, and Egypt will refuse to ratify them until there is general nuclear disarmament

 

Race is a laughing matter – so why are we still constrained by colour?

Sophie Duker
French & English
Wadham College

What do you call a black man who flies a plane?
A pilot, you racist. So what do you call a black girl who goes to Oxford University? Statistically unlikely.
In 1969, Nina Simone sang Weldon Irvine’s immortal lyrics:
“In the whole world you know/There are a billion boys and girls/Who are young, gifted and black/And that’s a fact!”
These lines are inspiring. But they don’t change a fact I recently discovered; namely, that out of over 3,000 undergraduates admitted to Oxford in 2008, only I and 23 others identified as black African. Admittedly, there could be a few who chose not to identify themselves, but I doubt anyone bothered. You see, the thing about being black African, or Caribbean, for that matter, is that you’re fairly easy to identify, whether or not you ticked a box on your personal statement. You can’t hide your ethnicity by buying a polo shirt from ‘Fabulously British’ Jack Wills or by adopting the word ‘yah’ into your vocabulary-if you’re the only black girl in your lecture, you will stick out like a little cocoa-coloured anomaly. Interestingly, it seems to be a slightly different experience for black boys than for black girls. It’s largely due to The Obama Effect, mixed up with reminisces of Save the Last Dance. If you are a black boy who isn’t a rude-i.e. no ear piercings, good diction, good grades, a belt and no sharp pointy bits of metal about your person – you are automatically a young Barack. You are the future, you are breaking down barriers, you are setting an example. And everybody fancies you. None of this, by the way, is intended as a dig at either Iwu or Chigbo (current and elect presidents of Oxford & Cambridge student unions, respectively) who are both so accomplished and good-looking that comparisons to the American president are wholly unsurprising. One might think that at Oxford, an institution which prides itself on being a meritocracy, ethnic minority students would naturally not make their background an issue. Au contraire. As Yosola Olorunshola, a fresher studying French and History at Jesus College points out, “Quite a few of the other black students I’ve met from Oxbridge seem to embrace being ‘the only black in the village’-it’s a way of inverting your insecurity about it.” She continues, “If you’re going to stand out, it might as well be on your own terms.” Banter, which has alternately been translated to mean ‘ignorant bigotry’ and ‘witticisms between friends’, is a touchy subject, but something I believe it’s possible to defend. Just for clarification: a rugby team ‘blacking up’ is not banter. I doubt anyone would dare to do it in Acton-for fear of getting lynched-and it is definitely both alienating and offensive. Being able to have a conversation with someone who’s relaxed enough to joke around with you and isn’t afraid to be politically incorrect is liberating. What’s not is being around people made uncomfortable when you play the race card. Humour is one of the gentlest and nicest ways of educating people about their prejudices. It does much more to challenge people’s assumptions than just about anything else. Blending into the background, while obviously a literal impossibility, can be achieved to a certain extent though sheer bloody-mindedness-a refusal to acknowledge the colour of your skin, whether positively or negatively. But forsaking such a blatant part of your identity leads to identity crisis, whether or not you feel, or want to feel, a part of a greater black community. Some might think it’s unhealthy to fixate on difference. But it’s equally unhealthy to live in denial. Out of Simone’s ‘billion boys and girls’, only about 30 actually made it here, to one of the most respected academic institutions in the world. I see more black faces in one place behind the Sainsbury’s counter on the alcohol run than I ever have in my JCR. So, what can we do? (By ‘we’, I here mean everyone in the university, regardless of pigmentation.) Well, what anyone would hope we were going to do anyway. Laugh at each other, learn about each other, lovingly trade insults. Have a sense of humour without being insensitive. I don’t want to be constantly reminded about being black. But neither do I ever want to or will I ever be able to forget it. Africa bops are a great idea… but if someone can’t muster up enough imagination to come as something other than a blacked-up savage straight out of Heart of Darkness, it just shows they haven’t had enough exposure to the thirty or so black individuals who joined Oxford’s ranks of young and gifted last year.

Ravi Thambapillai
Founding President
International Relations Soc

You can have your British Prime Minister in any colour- as long as its not black. Or indeed any colour other than white. Yet, in America, that seems to no longer be the case. With the election of the first (half) black leader of the United States of America, the inevitable question has to be raised; why hasn’t it happened here?
Trevor Phillips has famously said that institutional racism in key governmental organisations, including, for example, the Labour Party, would prevent a young, intelligent but non-white candidate from rising to the top. Ironically, there are systemic constraints on ethnic minorities, but they are not institutional in the way that Trevor Phillips thinks. When we ask whether a black person could become Prime minister, we are really asking can an outsider become Prime Minister. Many educated people feel there is no important race relations question to be addressed here in Britain; saying its just a proxy for class. This is false and missing the point. Many affluent ethnic minorities put ethnic under-representation down to a question of class, that really the colour of your skin isn’t the main factor, but your socio-economic background. And it just so happens that, through no fault of the current British system or population, many more minority citizens hail from a lower socio economic background than their white counterparts. No doubt this plays a part, but it is not the only factor. In poorer regions, but particularly in the north in cities like Bradford, intra-class ethnic tension, segregation and conflict reaches levels that urbane Oxonian-Londoners could not begin to understand. However, even the wealthy southern institutions have worryingly white compositions.
Oxbridge is disappointingly un-colourful. There is a real problem regarding the ethnic composition of applications that come in the Oxbridge’s direction.
A discerning eye would see that the most likely explanation is that not enough ethnic students are applying. But while state school application ratios are now (at last) rising (too slowly), a recent Times article states applications from Indian and Chinese UK students are falling.
Yet the even more interesting issue is how insidious ‘tribalism’ is in our society. Even in the enlightened, educated land of Oxford, the Chinese students have a disproportionate number of Chinese friends, and the ‘brown’ students have a disproportionate number of brown friends. The ‘brown’ vote is even considered a demographic bloc in Union politicking. It shapes unconscious networks in Oxford, and outside in poorer regions it segregates people and breeds ignorance and contempt. It also shapes careers. Is it a total coincidence that the highest concentration of black faces in central Oxford are behind the counters on Cornmarket’s fast-food restaurants?
Even the hugely talented have race based influences on their careers. For integrated families, who have experienced success in a variety of different fields, medicine is one of the most respectable and impressive career choices. For many isolated Indian ones, it is the sole or preeminent pinnacle of achievement.
Reading Obama’s autobiography, ‘Dreams from my father’ provides an interesting contrast to UK ethnic minorities. The route that Obama finally takes to discover his Americanism is one that simply isn’t open to the British. Obama finds his patriotism and American identity by feeling the resonance of quintessentially American rhetoric about ‘the land of opportunity’ and ‘the audacity of hope’, looking in himself and finding his mindset to be, powerfully American.
No such mindset exists in the British people. There are few tangibly British qualities that ethnic groups can attach themselves to and really identify with. What does exist holds much less potency than its American version. Instead, if those who feel dislocated look inward in the search for their own national identity, they often find shared features with those of their skin colour, like the experience of battling a distinctly exotic cultural upbringing in the (generally unsuccessful) attempt to be part of the ‘cool group’ at school. These problems beset Obama as much as any UK Asian – but for him the solution was to be found in the distinct American identity. That solution simply does not exist on this side of the pond, leaving many British Asians to identify themselves, deep down, as Asian British.
It’s a popular opinion that racism in the UK is a thing of the past. It’s a popular opinion that is wrong. While overt and intentional discrimination is now fairly rare, a subtle insidious racism is an ever-present part of society. How many Asians have been pressured, albeit subtly, by members of their extended family, to prefer an Asian girlfriend or boyfriend? How many also, whilst dating white partners, have experienced monumental cultural ignorance or even some badly concealed discomfort at the hands of the families who shudder that a black ram might be tupping their white ewe?
Such notions are at once comical and tragic. Attitudes are changing, as a more intermingled population matures. Those like Lammy and Iwu will, without doubt, go on to be very successful black politicians. But they will still be very successful black politicians.