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England clutching at straws

A stuttering England performance gave Martin Johnson his first win in this year’s Six Nations campaign. On an icy cold afternoon at Twickenham, England were fortunate that former Oxford Blue, Nick Mallet, now the Italian coach, made arguably the worst decision in his coaching career to date. The attempted reinvention of a world class flanker, Mauro Bergamasco, to scrum half, contributed hugely in giving England their first half lead. A hat-trick of horrors from Bergamasco at 9, gave England a 19-0 lead after thirty minutes. In the first minute he joined in a ruck, forgetting his scrum half role. The subsequent lack of an Italian scrum half led to the ball being kicked ahead by England for a line-out, from which the opening try was taken over by Goode with barely 60 seconds gone. Goode is currently the top scorer in French rugby but, despite a positive start, he produced a less than effective performance at fly-half. His opening kick and early try briefly silenced his doubters; over the remaining 78 minutes he kicked poorly and lacked authority.

As the first half progressed England exploited Italian errors with Harry Ellis scoring in the seventeenth minute and Wasps’ Ricky Fluety following suit shortly after to record his first international try. The Fluety try came on the back of another dreadful Bergamasco mistake; a horrendous loose pass which sailed over the head of team-mate Garcia, allowing England to push on and score. After 30 minutes of rugby the writing was on the wall for Italy. Both teams exchanged penalties, with Mclean kicking well, and as half time approached the score was 22-3. James Haskell received a deserved yellow card for a mindless trip (when will he learn?) and Mclean sent another sailing between the uprights to bring the score to 22-6 at the interval.

The second half started positively and more fluently for Italy. With the substitution of Bergamasco for Toniolatti, an actual scrum half, the Italians demonstrated more structure and looked to attack, something not seen in the first half. With injuries hurting both sides, the number nine position was without a doubt the defining issue of the match for Italy. Following the game pundits described Bergamasco’s play as ‘the worst we have ever seen by a professional rugby player at international level’.

Mallet himself would have substituted him earlier had he not had such respect for the player with 69 caps, none unsurprisingly at scrum-half. Though Toniolatti holds just 2 caps to his name he played with more conviction and might have been able to pull Italy back into what could have been an even game. Whilst Italy were mired in their own selection dilemma, England’s scrum-half, Ellis, was demonstrating his pace, cantering over for his second try of the match. He was eventually handed the ‘RBS Man of the Match’ award, after a reasonable performance in an otherwise uninspiring contest.

Italy soon had a real chance of putting some points of their own on the board though, when Delon Armitage‘s ill-timed kick was charged down. Unfortunately for the Azurri, they were unable to control the bouncing ball, agonizingly knocking on. With increasingly limited service to the backs a new approach was needed. Martin Johnson used the 29-6 points cushion to experiment with substitutions by bringing Shane Geraghty and the uncapped Ben Foden into play.

The ill discipline of both sides, but particularly of England, marred play. After being on the pitch a mere three minutes Shane Geraghty made the same walk of shame that James Haskell had taken in the first half after a brainless and dangerous tackle. England need to cut out this kind of thoughtless play if they want to regain their status as one of the top sides. Italy, meanwhile, used the advantage of the extra man to put the English defence under real pressure for the first time during the game. It resulted in a try, bulldozed over the line by Mirco Bergamasco, brother of Mauro. At 29-11, England had the last say with the experienced Cueto dancing for the line; the try was converted and victory was England’s at 36-11.

This five try performance flattered an inexperienced England. With five defeats in their prior six tests it was essential for Martin Johnson’s side to get the victory- albeit in an unconvincing fashion. The lack of discipline was put down to ‘enthusiasm’ by Jonno, yet the giving away of penalties against a side such as Ireland, and against kickers like Ronan O’Gara, would be severely punished. The penalty count during the calamitous Autumn series hurt England badly and has clearly not been stamped out yet. Where does this performance leave England and Martin Johnson’s camp? Clutching at straws perhaps? The team has very little time to improve before Cardiff next weekend. Wales are no Italy, and this match will surely be a hugely tougher and more physical test against the Championship defenders. England supporters must hope that Tindall makes a swift recovery and that the team conduct affairs with more authority, control and discipline.

One of the key question marks over this England team is that of the all important number 10 shirt. Cipriani, in his current form, will surely not be thrown into the deep end against Wales-yet it is widely believed that Andy was unfortunately not Goode enough and never has been, ‘If Goode were an international player he’d have 50 caps to his name by now’ argued one senior ex England player.

The fly-half conundrum remains a mystery and will leave us guessing until the team announcements are made as to who is to face Wales. Ian Robertson, BBC radio commentator, said after the match that he believes Wales to be serious contenders to win back-to-back Grand Slams. The compelling Welsh win over a hearty Scotland at Murrayfield this weekend confirms this opinion. Despite falling asleep for the last twenty minutes, Wales won 13-26 with an outstanding performance from the Cardiff Blue, Jamie Roberts, who was awarded man of the match. The game of the weekend was Ireland against France- an exciting 30-21 win for the home-side against a spirited France. Brian O’Driscoll proved he still has what it takes, contributing a try to the great Irish performance. Sadly the quality of these two sides also augurs badly for England’s Six Nations hopes. France will also be out for revenge in the next few weeks.

After this weekend’s match, Matt Dawson was less than impressed at the standard of rugby on display at Twickenham. When asked his opinion of England’s performance he replied, ‘Rubbish, we are not going to threaten anyone playing like that’. The crowd seemed to agree; when the England players returned to the pitch to celebrate their victory they were met by a virtually empty stadium.
With the competition spanning from now until the end of term be sure to expect full JCR’s, as conflicting nations compete in what is undeniably one of the greatest competitions in rugby. However, for England supporters there remains the worry of an inexperienced manager leading an inexperienced team.

Self-righteous Selfishness

That OUSU should not take political positions is a terrible excuse to justify opposing the motion to condemn Israel’s actions in Gaza. The idea that a Student Union should represent all its students by avoiding controversial issues does not make sense. It is never possible to truly represent all students, all the time.

Oxford students are a diverse body with internal differences and disagreements, and this isn’t a bad thing. Only the most banal and pointless policies will find total acceptance: someone can always be found to disagree with a policy, even on issues integral to student welfare like counselling, student loans and discipline.

To do nothing at all is unrepresentative of those students who supported the motion in the same sense that doing something would be unrepresentative of those who opposed it. A Student Union that tries to please everybody will please nobody. This is why we have a democracy based on majorities.

The idea that OUSU should restrict itself to student welfare is a kind of self-righteous selfishness. Oxford students are far from being needy. That we should ignore the world beyond the ring-road would be equivalent to an individual refusing to pay taxes that will be spent on other people’s children, or a nation refusing to intervene in another’s natural disasters. This is not how society should work. If we can do anything as a student body to help those in need elsewhere, we should do it. If the argument is that our actions will be ineffective, that suggests that those in opposition are over-reacting just as much as those in favour.

Turl Street Shame

If you’d visited Turl street last Friday, you’d have been caught up amongst brawling students, throwing punches and screaming at each other. You would be forgiven for thinking you’d just stepped into the middle of a football crowd in the 80s, at the height of the violent era.

What started as a seemingly innocent event, the ‘Turl Street dash,’ was fuelled by alcohol and quickly descended into something altogether more sinister.
Students drank twelve or fifteen pints, depending on which year they were in—a ridiculous quantity of alcohol, surely enough to turn anyone into a drunken, incoherent mess. But it was not just the drink that was to blame for the turn of events, it was that dangerous combination of too much drink and a ‘crowd mentality’ that the students adopted. Things were taken just that bit too far.

There were only a few students involved in the actual fighting but, worse, hundreds of students stood around, jeering, shouting, and encouraging the fighting. These students’ actions were as bad as actually throwing the punches; they too are responsible for the escalation of the violence. The only difference is that there will be no ramifications for them.

The colleges will punish those few students who urinated on the colleges and attacked other students, and shamefully ignore the mass who stood there encouraging.
Many students are indignant about the interest surrounding their Turl Street brawl; they feel that the facts have been distorted, and that their Friday night exertions were ‘not that bad.’ This may be the opinion of someone in the crowd who instigated the chanting and, in any case, was likely too drunk to remember the evening in too much detail. But this was not the case for many students, and it was not the case for those passers-by unlucky enough to stumble upon this event.

‘Friendly rivalry’ is all very well. But this event was not just ‘banter’ as students are fond of suggesting of even the most offensive and dangerous events. There is no wonder there is so much interest in this event, both Oxford, and international. Students at Oxford are in an incredibly privileged position, urinating on colleges and breaking bikes is not acceptable behaviour.

See no evil, hear no evil

Eyup takes the blame for his politician boss, Servet, after a hit and run accident. In return he accepts a pay-off from his boss, believing it will make life for his wife, Hacer, and teenage son, Ismail, more secure.

Ismail falls into bad company, becoming uninterested in the life he once led. Hacer, wanting to help her son, asks Servet for an advance, but soon gets more involved in him than she had anticipated. Eyup’s return from prison is the catalyst that works to bring all these storylines to a climactic finale.

Three Monkeys, Nuri Bilge Ceylan’s most recent cinematic venture, is imbued with a mesmeric brilliance from start to finish. Though strikingly frugal in its execution—this is a man whose cast list rarely exceeds the bounds of his immediate family—it is neither deficient in spectacle nor in energy. One gets the real sense that this is Ceylan’s natural environment, affording him the ability to manoeuvre seamlessly through images and ideas that would have tripped up many an otherwise talented director.

Three Monkeys shares a deep likeness with the novellas of Alberto Moravia. Here in Ceylan’s film, as in Moravia’s Two Adolescents, the family emerges as a site of philosophical contention, a place into which all adjacent conflict is pointedly focused, with each character shocked into a desperate awareness of themselves and those around them.

The family, in Three Monkeys, serves as a stage, a plane upon which drama can be produced. This is borne out in what the director himself has to say about the film—’Since the beginning of my adolescence, what has most intrigued, perplexed and at the same time scared me, has been the realisation of the incredibly wide scope of what goes on in the human psyche. I have always been astonished to see in the human soul the co-existence of the power to rule and the potential to forgive, the interest in the most holy and in that of the lowest banality, love and hate.’

But to imply that this is nothing more than a philosophical treatise would be to do the film a grave disservice. To return to Ceylan’s affinity with the environment in which Three Monkeys is set, it could be said that he never misses a shot. Every image serves as an unflinching record of Ceylan’s eye for the piercing and the beautiful, with the final shot arguably as traumatic as the final revelation it serves to illustrate.

 

Five stars.

Free: Evangelical Instrusion?

Graham Thornton

President-Elect
Christian Union

Free is an outreach mission that has been organised over the last week by the Christian Union. It wants to offer people the chance to find out for themselves what the Christian faith is about and examine the claims of Jesus, hopefully clearing some of the many misconceptions around today.

The talks, discussions and copies of Mark’s gospel (the story of Jesus’ life) handed out around the University all provide people with this opportunity. We have not forced anyone to take the copy of Mark’s gospel, nor forced anyone to attend any of the talks, and we certainly don’t want to put pressure on people to agree with what is being said. We want people to be free to come to their own conclusions regarding Jesus based on the evidence that we can show them and that is put before them.

Our aim has been to provide the platform for discussing the truth of Jesus, his death and his resurrection  because we believe it to be the greatest news in the world. Jesus says ‘For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life’. Would it not be immensely selfish for us not tell other people about this when we believe it? Immensely unloving of us to deny them the opportunity to know God and enjoy eternal life?

Jesus claimed to be God on Earth, dying on the Cross, that we might know Him. If this is wrong, then neither he nor Christianity are of importance. But if it is true, his claims are of infinite importance and so is the Christian faith. These statements are often seen as intrusive because they tear apart the worlds that we have created for ourselves. They suggest that there is more to life than the success that we make for ourselves in this world. Jesus tells us only He can help us know God – claims which may understandably strike discord with many. They were offensive to my pride when I first heard them.

However, with investigation, these claims are found to be true and liberating. Jesus himself said ‘Then you will know the truth and the truth will set you free’. Jesus is inviting us to have the freedom of knowing God’s forgiveness and love. This is, then, what Free is trying to do, and what we at the Christian Union will continue to try to do. We want to present this invitation to you  so that you have the chance to know God and know his love for yourself.

 

Richard Thompson
Co-President
Oxford Atheist Society

The fact that the point of the recent Free event was to convert people to evangelical Christianity is indisputable. Just look at their website for all the evidence you need: ‘Our hope is that many will choose to follow Jesus.’ Then look at all the merchandise they offered, the free gospels they gave out, all the posters – and so on.
As an atheist I do not see how the event can be portrayed as having brought forward an unbiased discussion, one that will help people ‘come to an informed decision’ as the website suggested. From the point of view of non-Christians, then, this discussion was not welcome. In fact, it simply served as an evangelical intrusion in to the lives of us who are perfectly happy without following Christianity.

I suppose that the organisers of Free would argue that the discussion does not need to be unbiased, as Christianity is right and everything else is wrong. Hence, for them, the idea of ‘coming to an informed decision’ should equate nicely with ‘coming to a decision with only the Christian side having been presented’. But – refraining here from going in to the big details and arguments – I would argue that Christianity is not right, it is in fact wrong. Therefore, the organisers made a logical slipup at the first possibility. Oops! And so, it seems to me to be quite clear, although with some slight generalisation, that the event brought forward a welcome discussion from the point of view of Christians. From the point of view of everyone else, it was an evangelical intrusion.

Right, now that I’ve argued the very wrong premise of the initiative, I’d like to go on a bit of a rant about the name. Free. I understand what the Universities and Colleges Christian Fellowship were referring to when they chose to call the event Free- Jesus freed us from sin and thereby offered us salvation and the promise of eternal life, etc etc. But… oh, the irony! I’ve got a friend on the executive of Oxford Intercollegiate Christian Union, and he has had less free time this past week than ever before. Though I suppose it was inevitable that he’d waste the Free week on his fictional God – seeing as this character is simply a product of his nature and his nurture, both of which are completely beyond his control…

American prospects?

I read your piece on theory in The American Prospect (‘Life After Theory’, 16th July, 2004) and agreed with the conclusion regarding the necessity of mediation between the academy and the public sphere. Do you see n+1 as successfully fulfilling this role yet, or does more need to be done?

Thank you for reading that essay. I don’t think n+1 is filling this role yet. I’ve always wanted us to. I do think there’s still time for it. We’ve tried to do it with the material from the philosopher Nancy Bauer and from the critic Walter Benn Michaels, and the assessments of Agamben and others-and in a different way with a special kind of writing that Helen DeWitt and Elif Batuman and Ilya Klieger can do for us, which variously gets called ‘fiction’ and ‘non-fiction’ and is really something beyond each. But we’re still not doing a very good job.
Mediation between the two intellectual layers depends first on finding individuals who are committed to both the university and to the mass media. Those who have, for each sphere, the right degrees of respect and suspicion. Such people exist, in private; I feel like plenty of people know how to balance the claims of the two spheres of intellect when they’re just reading the paper. But this kind of mediation requires, too, a shared language of mediation, in which you can talk about both worlds and not make stupid distinctions; and not get caught up in the cult worship of the New York intellectuals or the defence of the disciplines; or filter all of intellectual life through the memoiristic, the reactions of the self, and similar garbage. Lord knows, we get caught in those refuse piles, like anybody else. The common language is the missing element. I think the reasons that some such language doesn’t exist are probably economic and defensive.
‘Public’ intellectuals can’t admit they’re really ‘market intellectuals’-that’s Michael Denning’s term-shaped by their uncertain economic fate at the hands of the same forces that promote pulp novels and movies and radio programs. University intellectuals can’t fess up to the dangers of their over-secure economic position, cosseted and paid for, and therefore unrealistic about their relation to the economic world exterior to the university. I don’t see a lot of progress beyond the increasing intelligence people have about what goes on in their own sphere-i.e., intellectual journalists’ sophistication about the funding (and current defunding) of newspapers, and academics’ analysis of what ten years ago they called the ‘corporate multiversity.’
In that American Prospect article I said I wished there were a layer of ‘linking intellectuals,’ between the two spheres. They’d be unafraid of academic thought and would interpret it for the public. But they’d also be committed enough to a public sphere to be able to call ‘bullshit’ on university intellectuals without rancour or the trace of sour grapes. Since that article was written, I’ve been looking for such people. I’ve been disappointed by how strongly professional training in either the academy or journalism ties writers down. The major intellectual development of the last 50 years was the universitisation of intellect, for better and worse, and I don’t see that either the public or academic stories of that process-I’m thinking of the cretinish discourses of the ‘lost public intellectual’ at every level-have found any new, original relation to it. I find the instincts to all these mistakes in myself. I’m the first to make them. But n+1 exists in part to try to tamp down the erroneous instincts of the editors, and improve things. So we’re working on that.

You mentioned Helen DeWitt-have you read Your Name Here yet? I’m about half-way through and am not sure what to think. On one hand, it’s very funny and well-observed, particularly the Oxford stuff. It was excerpted in the latest issue of Oxford Poetry (as well, of course, as n+1) and seems to work well in that format. As a 580-page novel, though, I’m less sure. She seems to admire David Foster Wallace, but I’m not sure that YNH quite measures up to the subtlety of, say, Infinite Jest or his later stories; it reads more like the gimmicky metafiction of The Broom of the System, or like some Barthian nightmare that just exploded. I know that’s partly the point, but it seems to invest too heavily in this sort of thing not to feel at least a little bit outdated. That, and Ilya Gridneff’s emails are just boring.

Yes, we read it before we did the excerpt. I think it’s an excellent book. That was a big objection among the n+1 editors, that Gridneff’s emails are boring. But I think a good part of the book is the Pygmalion relationship (sexes reversed) of DeWitt to Gridneff, and Zozanian to Pechorin. You have to see that Gridneff is no Joyce to appreciate the manic creation of this young man as a hero, so that the genuine writer-DeWitt / Zozanian-can stay home and fantasise. Beyond that, I think DeWitt is brilliant in part because the underlying ideas are worth it-the fully lotteritized society, for example, as an extension of the current privatised and neoliberal order. Yet they’re rendered in the broadest strokes, for pleasure. She’s fundamentally not an elitist writer, but someone who reaches to a mass audience, more Vonnegut than Pynchon somehow. I really believe if that book were printed it would have a mass audience-a mass audience with aspirations to languages and high culture, which is part of what DeWitt’s book is devoted to making you love. She has a bit of a ‘spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down’ approach altogether. She is so deliberately out of the mainstream that her democratic and anti-elitist tendencies come out alongside her real brilliance and attachment to erudition. I love Helen DeWitt.

I thought the best bits of Issue Seven were the interviews: the conversation with the Hedge Fund Manager seemed accessible to a ‘literary’ audience without being just another ‘economics for dummies’ type run-through, while David Harvey was admirably tentative with his political conclusions. Will n+1 be dealing with the ‘credit crunch’ again in Issue 8, or in future pieces for the website? Does the magazine have a particular stance towards it, in terms of political importance?

We hadn’t done interviews before. In fact we’re against them. They’re often a way to fill up space in a magazine without committing to the hard work or writing and editing an essay-and they’re so plentiful. They’re most plentiful in places where text is just a means for filling in pages between pictures-have you noticed the rich harvest of interviews in art magazines? Since part of the point of n+1 was to try not to run things that people could run elsewhere, interviews were really out of bounds. (What would be the point in that? They should just go elsewhere!) But HFM appeared, the anonymous Hedge Fund Manager, and one of my co-editors started talking with him, and those conversations happened.
This co-editor, I think, is a genius. He knew what he had, and he went with it-he kept interviewing. The funny thing is that the early interviews with HFM happened before the crisis emerged into public discourse. HFM knew things were unwinding, and he was watching what none of us knew to look at-like when, in the second interview, he talks about the possibility that AIG could fail, and the catastrophic consequences, and those of us in the office said, ‘AIwhat?’
I’d tend to think the financial meltdown is immensely important politically. The ambition of a significant part of the US conservative realignment of 1964 to the present had been to keep growing in ideological power until the generation that had experienced World War II and the Depression and the postwar era of growth in real wages would die off.
Then there would be no one left who remembered national solidarity in an economic framework, and the remains of the New Deal welfare state could be chopped up and thrown out once and for all. So a decent, serious, really heinous financial meltdown caused by deregulation and mass business irresponsibility, which can only be salved by massive governmental intervention-you know, it could be character-building for the US and maybe, you’ll have to tell me, for the UK, too. You have a stronger welfare state and, with Gordon Brown, a sane and confidence-inspiring Prime Minister, but it must be nice to be reminded that deregulation and privatisation isn’t the answer to everything.
David Harvey was tentative with his political conclusions, and it’s our inclination not to be tentative-but, also, not to be ‘responsible’ and realistic. The reality is that there are more than enough places which repeat the same sorts of realism.

 

Anyone for T?

Breath rises in the neon lights as the crowd shuffles despondently outside the O2 Academy. Yesterday’s snow is today’s ice and a press agent has just confirmed the circulating rumours that Fake Blood is too ill to play, having already cancelled a gig in Manchester. Luckily, there is more than enough talent remaining in the line-up.
The O2 Academy has a shoe-box smoking area, a ridiculous queuing system and an air-con unit that works like an emphysaemic lung. However, its cavernous space is fast becoming an attractive prospect for major electro, dubstep and drum n’ bass DJs.
Toddla T’s set covers all of these genres and everything else in between. He moves seamlessly through dance-floor classics both new and old, while incorporating his own tropical style.
His tracks sound like someone taking garage on a day-out to Notting Hill Carnival: it’s bouncy, jump-up music. Backstage, he explained that track-swapping and collaborations between DJs have created a rapidly expanding community that is open to every influence. This sonic explosion applies to Toddla T in every sense possible. His first single ‘Do You Know?’ was released less than two years ago. In a few months he will be releasing a compilation album on the prestigious Fabriclive label.
In person, he is full of an infectious enthusiasm that fuels his manic onstage performance. With a schedule that regularly demands two separate gigs in a night it is fortunate that he obviously enjoys his sets as much as his fans. Unlike most DJs he has not made the move to London, preferring to stay in his hometown of Sheffield.
‘That scene is always so extreme,’ he explains, ‘it’s nice to get away from it during the week.’ Sheffield, with its cultural diversity and eclectic musical history, is at the heart of his sound. A heavy reggae influence soars over the top of grimy two-step rhythms and he seems capable of interacting with anything and everything around him. At one point, a raver stumbles backstage in search of a toilet, Toddla talks to him until his eyes water with desperation.
The remainder of the Fuse Night bill was just as strong. On stage, Lee Mortimer has taken the slot left in Fake Blood’s absence. Techno has been less in the spotlight recently, what with the excitement surrounding dubstep and electro. Mortimer’s set proves it is still incredibly popular. He keeps the crowd at boiling point until it is finally time for Stanton Warriors to take charge.
Previous sets by the Stanton Warrior’s have ranged from the frustratingly minimal to the borderline mainstream. This time they absolutely smash it.
In a two and a half hour set that demonstrates their substantial archive of tracks, they prove that they are two of the most talented DJs around. Their remix of ‘Handz Up’ by Deekline and Solo kicks off the show with its up-tempo rap and whirling drops. They then unleash ‘Pop Ya Cork’ and ‘Shake It Up’ to drive the crowd to fever pitch. It’s certainly too much for the air-con which gives a final cough before retiring for the evening. The next hour is an exploration of the new album Stanton Sessions Vol.3. Although this album lacks the singles that made Stanton Sessions Vol.2 so popular, it brings plenty of fresh vocal samples to their original breakbeat sound, demonstrating a new direction for the Warriors.
Just as the crowd begins to flag, they return to their impressive collection of remixes. They play two encores finishing with a massive edit of their ‘Feel Good Inc.’ remix. Any trace of disappointment from the beginning of the night has evaporated into the pulsing, sweaty atmosphere.
But the night belonged to Toddla T. He tries to emphasise the importance of ‘the party’ in his music, and explains that he doesn’t ever intend to restrict himself to one sound or genre, asserting ‘I love everything me.’ It is refreshing to speak to someone who is so obviously enjoying himself. His aim seems genuinely just to make sure his crowds have the best time possible and he certainly achieved this end tonight.

Jonathan Dimbleby and the future of the BBC

Taken for granted by millions across the globe to be an objective, neutral source of information, the BBC has struggled to retain this image of impartiality for the public good. It has recently been at the centre of a number of controversies, from whether to broadcast an appeal to generate aid to those in Gaza to discussions surrounding the sacking of Carol Thatcher for her inappropriate comments made ‘in private’. Speaking to Jonathan Dimbleby, a BBC veteran of 40 years, recently provided an insight into this institution.

Dimbleby was largely responsible for activating the first ‘television’ catastrophe, which raised over $150 million in relief funds for the Ethiopian famine that had claimed upwards of 100,000 lives by 1973. Since this appeal our screens have seen countless disasters and corresponding relief efforts and I wondered if he thought that viewers had become jaded. ‘They are, but I think it’s inevitable because that was more than 30 years ago.’

He still believes in the dominance of television to shape public opinion through the power of its images, although concedes that the press determines the opinions, thoughts and feelings of those who are in power, so ultimately has more influence. Ever the optimist, Dimbleby insists that ‘continuing catastrophe, war, disaster and poverty does make people weary, but they simply can’t bear to see the suffering.’
The level of protests against the BBC over the decision not to broadcast the Gaza appeal shows that the general public do care. Within three days the BBC had received 11,000 complaints over the decision, and thousands more followed. The assessment by the BBC that this would compromise its impartiality has been fully understood by few, a fact emphasized by Dimbleby.

‘If I was asked to defend the BBC’s position I would simply have to repeat what the DG has said. And I’m afraid I don’t understand it anymore than that. Do I feel passionately that the innocent victims of conflict should be in receipt of funds to help them get back on their feet again? Yes. Do I believe that impartiality is important in the BBC? Yes. Do I believe that there was some conflict between helping deliver those funds and obtaining the recognition of impartiality? Over to the BBC.’

Quick to defend the BBC from actual Israeli influence, Dimbleby reiterates that he’s seen no evidence to support allegations that ‘the BBC was running scared of the Israeli government and Zionist pressure. I hope very much that there wasn’t any pressure because I think that it would be quite disgraceful of any government that says that it is seeking to help the victims of a war which it describes as a necessary war, to then put pressure on the BBC.’ Jonathan Dimbleby has defended the BBC from allegations of bias before, most recently over accusations of its favourable representation of the royal family.  A friend of Prince Charles since the early 1990s when he wrote his biography, Dimbleby insists that the BBC scrutinises the monarchy just like any other institution.

But back to the million-dollar question of the role of the BBC. The public service mandate that the BBC uses to justify the licence fee requires the BBC maintains accuracy and impartiality as well as high standards for a broad range of audiences. Dimbleby broadly supports this remit, agreeing that ‘the quality of the programmes is indeed supreme.’ He is also in favour of the public service element of the mandate, and as presenter for ‘Any Questions?’ for the past 20 years he has been able so see the way in which this has developed within the BBC. 

A large part of the public service grant of the BBC involves the opinions of viewers and listeners, leading to the introduction of ‘Any Answers?’, the follow up program to ‘Any Questions?’. This relies on so-called ‘green ink,’ a term that is used to refer to the somewhat unconventional views of some listeners. ‘Green-ink’ is something he defends under the umbrella of public service and recognises the added benefit that listeners with life experiences of some issues can bring to the discussion. Although he does recognises that this can sometimes be a ‘mixed bag.’

The meaning of public service is a cause for debate; should it give the public what they want, or should it provide an opportunity for new additions to the broadcasting spectrum? ‘Public service can’t be defined by the fact that it reaches a larger audience. That’s the sort of, the lowest common denominator viewer, and anyone can reach a large audience.’

The competition among other broadcasters for viewers however, has left the BBC in an awkward position. Ratings have become relied  upon and some see them as a justification for the idea of public service, while others have criticised the BBC for appealing to the mass market. ‘There is a permanent tension between delivering high quality programmes that may be attractive only to a minority on the one hand, but on the other the need to maximise ratings to demonstrate it justifies the licence fee.’
Obligated as we all are to pay the licence fee, commentators such as Charles Moore have voiced their disgust at the use of  it to fund £6 million per year salaries for the likes of Jonathan Ross who, he believes, betray the values the BBC is supposes to uphold. So how should the licence fee be justified?

‘My own view is that in the short term, medium term and long term the BBC will only survive if it is absolutely distinctive, even if that means that its audiences are not maximised. Anything the BBC does that could be done equally well elsewhere is not a good argument for the licence fee.’

Cynics may criticise Jonathan’s idealistic faith in the future of the BBC and its remit, but the BBC undeniably needs supporters with strong, positive vision to ensure its values are retained.  For the BBC to defend itself to politicians, and the general public, it must achieve something different.  Without promoting a new purpose the heritage of a state funded broadcaster becomes questionable. ‘The essence of the BBC is quality and distinctiveness and the courage of what it does. So that everyone looking at the BBC says ‘no one else would do that, and it’s very important that they do.’’

A Framework of Fear

What would you say if, out of the blue, someone offered you an all-expenses-paid trip to Israel? Back in December, London’s Union of Jewish Students did just that, and last Friday I flew to Tel Aviv with seven students from across Britain for a trip described, in rather poor taste, as an ‘election/post-war special.’ Having never been offered a free trip in my life, my initial reaction to the invitation was one of suspicion, and I immediately started searching for a hidden agenda, wondering what line I might be expected to buy on a visit to a country with such notoriously bad PR.

The recent campaign by the Israeli Defence Force in Gaza, which left between 900 and 1,300 Palestinians dead, has led to worldwide protests, student campaigns and calls for a boycott, leaving many Israelis feeling frustrated at what they see at Europeans’ failure to understand their need to defend their state. Despite my reservations about going, however, I decided that seeing one side, however potentially biased, was better than seeing neither. I reassured myself that I would take everything presented to me with a healthy dose of scepticism, whilst vowing to keep an open mind.

I’m not sure what I was expecting, but after arriving in Israel I quickly found myself caught off guard. Yes, I met the caricature of the gung-ho IDF man, full of bravado and machismo, and the cynical civil servant, tired of European liberals who like to ‘play utopia.’ But I was also exposed to a series of thoughtful, liberal voices who presented a compelling narrative of the Jewish struggle to break free from their history of exclusion, persecution and permanent minority status. A visit to Yad Vashem, Israel’s Holocaust museum, as well as meetings with a range of academics, journalists and civil servants conveyed a powerful sense – real, imagined, or somewhere in between – that the Jews are not only a victimised people, but also one that has been let down time and again by governments, regimes and individuals that failed to protect them. There is a deep need to prove the country’s strength, and to never allow the Jewish people to become victims again.

This, I discovered, is the crux of the Israeli psyche. It is within this framework of fear that Israelis view Sderot – the town 1km to the north of Gaza, battered by rockets for the past eight years, and the second intifada – the five-year Palestinian uprising that began after the breakdown of peace talks in 2000 . The residents of Jerusalem lived in constant fear of suicide bombers who targeted buses, cafes and bars. This sense of insecurity was apparent in the run up to elections, in which right-winger Avigdor Lieberman saw his popularity swell on the basis of a campaign that described the country’s Arab citizens as an ‘internal terror threat.’ Demands that Arabs prove their loyalty to the country in order to retain their citizenship struck a chord with voters, and on Tuesday Lieberman’s Yisrael Beiteinu party achieved an unprecedented 15 seats in Israel’s new parliament.

The Hebrew University’s Dr Gideon Rahat rejects these ultra-nationalist politics, describing Lieberman a ‘threat to Israeli society’ for ‘turning Israeli Arabs against the state of Israel.’ So too, do many others, but this week’s elections nevertheless saw Israeli politics take a step to the right, in what most analysts see as a disillusionment with the peace process. But Israel’s 20% Arab population, too, feels disillusioned, with most simply shrugging their shoulders when I asked how they’d use their vote.
We were scheduled to meet three Palestinians but, tellingly, two of them were unable to make it due to problems with permits and border crossings. On election day we visited the controversial West Bank wall, designed to prevent suicide bombers but condemned by many as an exercise in land-grabbing. There were no Palestinians at the usually busy crossing point – that day the West Bank was closed, its residents forbidden from entering Israel – but during the five minutes we stood there we watched an Israeli settler speed across the boundary in his car.

I found it strange that the trip, which placed so much emphasis on the importance of understanding the Israeli side of the Middle East conflict, failed to present any detailed analysis of the other side of the story – that of the Palestinians. The anguish of losing their land and their homes, the humiliation of years of occupation and the desperation of poverty were given little consideration, and it would have been easy to have come away feeling that the Palestinians are entirely to blame for their plight.

It is for this reason that, for me, the most inspiring voice of the trip was that of Robi Damelin, who is a member of Parents’ Circle, a group that brings together Israelis and Palestinians whose family members have been killed in the course of the conflict. She usually works in a pair with Ali Abu Awwad, a Palestinian whose brother was shot dead by an Israeli settler, but he had unable to cross into the West Bank from Jordan. Damelin’s son, David, a Master’s student who was active in the peace movement, was called up by the IDF as a reservist in 2002, and soon after was killed by a Palestinian sniper. She now tours schools in Israel and the Occupied Territories, and gives talks across the world, in order to share her story. She tells how, during a talk in the West Bank, a schoolgirl once told her that her son deserved to die. ‘She came from a bereaved family,’ says Damelin. ‘I talked to her about it. I asked her what colours her tears were. She got up in front of the whole class and came up and apologised. That took a lot of courage.’

Sceptical of those who promote ‘hummus and hugs’, Damelin has used her and Abu Awwad’s shared pain as a starting point for an exploration of the nitty-gritty of politics, war and peace, and she now believes that ‘you have to talk to everyone; even Hamas.’ This sentiment was echoed by Khaled Abu Alia, the one Palestinian we did manage to meet, who argues that Israel’s refusal to recognise the democratically-elected group ‘made them into heroes.’ But those who support such views are in the minority, as the declared aim of Hamas’ charter – the destruction of the state of Israel – currently makes dialogue out of the question for most.

I came away from the trip with the feeling that I had, as expected, been shown just one side of the story, but rather than any anticipated crude propaganda, I was offered an intelligent, nuanced exploration of the Israeli national consciousness, and the fears and insecurities of its citizens. I’ve come to understand that many liberal Israelis are uncomfortable with their country’s actions, but that they are also scared for the safety of their children. It’s a story that I’m incredibly glad I’ve heard. But I also left feeling uncomfortable at not even having visited an Arab-Israeli village, let alone the West Bank, because it was deemed too ‘unsafe’ by the organisers. That is surely the point. It’s all very well for Israel’s liberals to covet peace, but until both sides are forced to confront not only their own feelings of insecurity and fear, but also those of their ‘enemy’, there can be little hope of the understanding that is needed for peace.

In a country where every house has an in-built bomb shelter, where Palestinians face the humiliation of daily checkpoint searches, and where Jewish and Muslim children attend different schools, it remains too easy for Arabs and Israelis to dehumanise the threatening ‘other’, blocking out their suffering and justifying actions taken against them. Fear is a powerful force, and despite projects that try to bring the two sides together, most Israelis have never met a Palestinian, and vice versa. ‘Peace is possible when we allow ourselves to be vulnerable,’ declares a letter from Desmond Tutu on the Parents’ Circle homepage. But, for the time being, while rockets are fired and walls are built, it is ignorance and fear that reign supreme.

Interview: Anya Hindmarch

In the past, the idea of ‘ethical trendiness’ has seemed somewhat a contradiction in terms. Living a green lifestyle used to conjure up visions of anorak-wearing vegans frantically monitoring their recycling bins, or of gap year tragedies wearing Peruvian hemp cloth and protesting against carbon emissions. This was, however, before Anya Hindmarch.

The British designer extraordinaire created the £5 ‘I’m not a plastic bag’ cloth shopping tote in collaboration with Sainsbury’s, in order to dissuade the public from using non-biodegradable plastic bags. The response was astounding; in one day, 80 000 people in England queued up to buy it. With a bag that was both stylish and ethical, Hindmarch made green living cool. Soon celebrities from Natalie Portman to Gordon Ramsey entered into competitions to display their green credentials.

“I am not a silly trite fashionista”

But the secret to the phenomenal success of ‘I’m not a plastic bag’ was Hindmarch’s timing. Indeed, this is her consummate skill: the ability to know what people want before they do. This derives from her ability to think in the mindset of the average woman. Indeed, when I ask her who her greatest fashion influence is, she replies: ‘Probably my mother because she was my first influence – and mothers are a subliminal influence which is quite brainwashing! Also though, I think I design lot for myself. Not because I think I am my own ‘muse’, far from it! But because I am probably my own harshest critic and share many of the roles that women have. If it works for me, it tends to translate into working in store.’ She has managed to reach heights of international acclaim in her career, and raise five children. It is a feat that few parents have juggled and managed, and an experience which Hindmarch translates her designs.

I asked her about the infamous ‘I’m not a plastic bag’ idea, and how it came about. ‘I wanted to make people aware that doing what I used to do – that is to say, going to the supermarket and taking 30 plastic bags because I’ve got five children, going home and putting all the bags in the bin and, ultimately, the landfill – is stupid.’ More widely, she draws her inspiration from the everyday: ‘I’m influenced by things as diverse as a colour or a street lamp or the way someone walks. You’re out and about and suddenly you realise you’re obsessed with the emblem on a museum door handle.’

In addition, Hindmarch has managed to distinguish herself from the plethora of mass produced brands by emphasising the uniqueness and personalisation of her designs – she combines British humour with the bespoke. She refers to this as the DNA of a brand – the personal touches, such as an image of a 1950s film icon delicately emblazoned on an inner lining. One of the designs that encapsulates this is the Bespoke Eburt bag launched in 2003. The inside of this bag has a secret message in the buyer’s own handwriting. It is this attention to personal detail that sets Hindmarch’s designs apart from the culture of the ‘It-bag’, which seemed as ostentatious a representation as any of the overconsumption of the noughties.

Hindmarch has all the genuine excitement about a bag of a sixteen year old girl: ‘I love bags because you don’t have to try them on, you don’t have to be a certain size, they can completely alter your mood…It is a form of self-expression, which is very important in life. It’s showing our colours. It’s tribal.’

“In one day, 80 000 people to buy her infamous bag”

Certainly, Hindmarch is passionate that fashion can be fun. However, she does believe that although ‘fashion is criticized for being frivolous, something like ‘I’m not a plastic bag’ shows its power to influence people. For me, it was about raising awareness, not about selling lots.’ She is keen to emphasise that she is not ‘ a silly, trite fashionista.’ This, she certainly is not. Business-minded and astute, she is fully aware of the pitfalls of the fickle fashion world. ‘The buyers can be quite ruthless at times and you have to keep telling yourself that ‘customer is king.’

Aside from transforming eco-fashion, Hindmarch is a key mover and shaker in political and social circles. She is keenly involved in resuscitating the Conservative party’s image and organized the annual Conservative Black and White Ball. If anyone can transform the Conservatives stuffy image, it is her. Unashamedly, she admits that perhaps her most pivotal role model is Mrs Thatcher, whose steely determination she has always aspired to emulate. Hindmarch got her big break at the age of 18, when Thatcher was in power, when she managed to persuade Harpers and Queen to commission her as a buyer, despite being so young. ‘I think I was pretty determined and quite persuasive. I think these two qualities are a common trait in being an entrepreneur. When I was 18, Lady Thatcher was pushing the nation to say, ‘get on with it. Get out there. Get going.’
So Thatcher is responsible for Hindmarch being on the fashion scene, but despite this, Hindmarch’s domination of the looks set to continue, and her creations will continue to inspire fashionistas everywhere.