Here’s an idea that only Dr. Strangelove, Edward Teller, or the Communist Party of the Soviet Union could come up with: nuke that oil leak at the bottom of the Gulf of Mexico. Apparently, it has been done before, and only one out of five attempts was unsuccessful. So how about that, folks? What’s a bit of radioactivity when you have an 80% success rate?
I’m watching a six-part CBC documentary miniseries titled Love, Hate and Propaganda, which looks, from a perspective of 70 years, at the role of propaganda during WW2. While the series is enjoyable (though shallow, like most historical documentaries are), I am coming to the conclusion that after 70 years, propaganda is still alive and well.
Take these sentences, for instance, explaining the beginning of The Blitz:
In the beginning, Germans attack military and industrial installations, but as time goes by, bombs get closer and closer to the big cities.
September 7th. They hit London. The Blitz begins.
So how does it compare to a more neutral, factual description of the same from Wikipedia? Let’s see:
In late August 1940 […] the Luftwaffe attacked industrial targets in Birmingham and Liverpool. This was part of an increase in night bombing brought about by the high casualty rates inflicted on German bombers in daylight.
During a raid on Thames Haven, on 24 August, some German aircraft […] strayed over London and dropped bombs in the east and northeast parts of the city, Bethnal Green, Hackney, Islington, Tottenham and Finchley. This prompted the British to mount a retaliatory raid on Berlin the next night with bombs falling in Kreuzberg and Wedding, causing 10 deaths. Hitler was said to be furious, and on 5 September, at the urging of the Luftwaffe high command, he issued a directive “for disruptive attacks on the population and air defences of major British cities, including London, by day and night”. The Luftwaffe began day and night attacks on British cities, concentrating on London. This relieved the pressure on the RAF’s airfields.
In the CBC’s version of events, there is no doubt that the indiscriminate bombing of civilian targets was the invention of the evil Nazi state. Wikipedia’s facts are more nuanced: it appears that the first intentional bombing of civilian targets may have actually been conducted by the RAF! This remains true regardless of the evil nature of the Nazi empire or the fact that it was them, not Britain, who started the most devastating war in history.
So, it seems, Love, Hate and Propaganda is guilty of the very thing that it purports to expose: by skewing the facts, it becomes a work of propaganda.
The CBC titled its broadcast “End of an Era”; its live coverage of the special ceremony remembering Vimy Ridge, on account of the fact that Canada’s last WWI veteran died just a short while ago.
My thought? If only all countries remembered war the way Canada does: not the glory, but the loss and the sacrifice. Perhaps the world would be a better place.
25 years ago today, Mikhail Gorbachev became General Secretary of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union. I don’t think I noticed… indeed, other than new slogans like “glasnost” and “perestroika”, which were mostly just words, the system seemed just as crumbling as before. Perhaps even crumbling a bit more… Gorbachev’s rise to power occurred, after all, a mere two months after the Comecon’s worst energy crisis, marked by shortages in natural gas and a massive collapse of the electrical grid. And then, a year later, it was Chernobyl’s turn. Did anyone need more proof that Communism was, even under the best of circumstances, a social system incapable of providing a sustainable, safe, secure, prosperous life to its citizens?
Nonetheless, I had no reason to suspect that Communism would vanish anytime soon. Indeed, I don’t think there was anyone in Hungary in 1986 who would not have considered it a safe bet that the Soviet empire, along with its one-party vassal states in Eastern Europe, would be around for at least another 25 years. These views played a major role in my decision to leave Hungary in 1986. A decision I never regretted, but still… who would have thought that just three short years later, the Berlin Wall would come down and not long after that, the flag of the USSR would no longer fly over the Kremlin?
Apparently, the earthquake in Chile was the 5th largest on record in the whole world since 1990. I guess I know three out of the other four: Chile in 1960, Alaska in 1964, and Indonesia in 2004. Ah, there’s the fourth (thanks, Wikipedia): Kamchatka in 1952.
Chile is supposedly well prepared. But how can you be well prepared when the earthquake destroys basic infrastructure?
I’ve been reading about a 60-year old show trial, the so-called Standard case (link in Hungarian), held in Communist Hungary, and decided to search for contemporary English-language articles. In the process, I came across something delightful: A 1953 issue of the Ottawa Evening Citizen. Its front-page headline: An incredible “Red offer” to free an imprisoned British businessman in exchange for a female Communist terrorist awaiting the gallows in Malaya.
The British businessman was eventually released a year later. I have no idea what happened to the Malayan woman. As to the other accused in the Standard case, several were executed, others received heavy prison terms… after the 1956 revolution, they were all released, but not rehabilitated until 1990, when Hungary’s Supreme Court declared the convictions null and void, as “no crime was committed”.
Meanwhile, I learned for instance, that in 1953 Ottawa, the daily newspaper listed two television stations: one in Montreal, one in Syracuse, N.Y., both of them broadcasting only in the afternoon and evening hours.
According to a Radio Free Europe journalist, even today, many of Afghanistan’s small intellectual elite still speak Russian, a legacy of one of the few good things brought to Afghanistan by the Soviet invasion, the education of many Afghans in Soviet institutes of higher learning. What will our legacy be in Afghanistan 20 years into the future, I wonder?
In case anyone was under the impression that cultural vandalism, such as the blowing up of historical monuments that happen to stand in the way of someone’s ideology, is the monopoly of Islamic fanatics, think again. The other day, Georgia’s (the country’s, not the US state’s) democratically elected president ordered the destruction of a Soviet-era monument, ostensibly to make room for a new parliament building. Unfortunately for him (not that I care) and for two innocent spectators (that I do care about) the demolition was botched, and flying concrete killed these two people, a mother and her 8-year old daughter. As to the memorial… I may not have too many fond thoughts about the Soviet Union and the Red Army, but few things are less controversial than a memorial dedicated to a victory over fascism and the glory of what Russians call the Great Patriotic War… in which, incidentally, some 300,000 Georgians also happened to have lost their lives.
I’m done reading The Soviet-Afghan War by Grau and Gress (eds.) The final paragraph of the book, which was prepared just before the US invasion of Afghanistan, is prescient: “It is easy to dismiss the Soviet failure in Afghanistan, but it is not wise. Armies seldom get to choose the wars in which they fight and this type of difficult war is as likely a future conflict as a war involving high-technology systems in which the sides seldom get close enough to see each other. Russia continues to fight guerrilla wars. Other nations may also have to.”
Indeed.
Following a discussion with a friend of mine, I did some crude statistics today. Perusing Wikipedia, I ranked the world’s religions in terms of the effectiveness with which they were able to commit mass murder between 1914 and the present day. I did not count “legitimate” victims of war. My statistics are necessarily crude, as I probably didn’t include all incidents, and I just used the concept of a “predominant religion” instead of researching the actual religious breakdown of perpetrators and victims. The figures themselves may also be in dispute.
Having said that, I calculated some percentages (normalized by dividing the number killed by the square root of the product of the populations of the perpetrators’ and the victims’ predominant religion) and arrived at this bleak ranking of our recent history:
Buddhist-on-Buddhist: 10%
Christian-on-Jew: 3%
Christian-on-Christian: 0.9%
Muslim-on-indigenous: 0.5%
Muslim-on-Christian: 0.2%
Muslim-on-Muslim: 0.1%
Buddhist-on-Hindu: 0.01%
Hindu-on-Christian: 0.006%
Christian-on-Muslim: 0.0006%
Muslim claims about evil Christians are clearly bogus, at least insofar as recent history is concerned; Christians were far more busy killing each other and killing Jews, and Muslims were certainly more efficient when it came to killing Christians than the other way around (mostly thanks to the efforts of the Ottoman Empire).
But no, I do not conclude from this that religion is inherently evil. About two thirds of all the killings listed here were, in fact, committed by states that were nominally atheist. Reason may lead one to atheism, but atheism certainly doesn’t guarantee reason…
This is the sunniest, brightest Remembrance Day that I recall.
I don’t usually like national holidays and such. This, however, is an exception. The way it is celebrated, especially here in Canada, it’s not about glory, not about victory… it’s about the memory of those who died. As such, it is an inclusive celebration. You can take part regardless of your nationality; it doesn’t matter what uniform your father or grandfather might have been wearing, what is being remembered is that he served and suffered. (Fortunately, nobody from my immediate family fell or was wounded in war. My maternal grandfather served briefly in the Hungarian army in 1942 or thereabouts, as an engineer… fortunately, he returned to Hungary before the disastrous collapse of Hungary’s Second Army at the Don River. My great Uncle Bela served in WWI, on the Russian front I believe. He, too, survived.)
Sir Nicholas Winton celebrated his 100th birthday earlier this year. This British gentleman arranged the rescue of many hundreds of predominantly Jewish children from Czechoslovakia in 1939. In recognition of this event, a commemorative train ride was organized this year; what became known as the Winton Train, carrying many of the survivors and their descendants, arrived at Liverpool Street station in London earlier today, to be greeted there by Nicholas Winton himself, among others.
During the last leg of its trip across Europe, the Winton Train was pulled by 60163 Tornado, a brand new mainline steam locomotive, the first one built in the United Kingdom in nearly half a century.
Seventy years ago today, heroic soldiers of the Third German Empire defended their Fatherland by responding to an unprovoked attack the previous day by the criminal Polish regime on a peaceful radio station in Gleiwitz, Upper Silesia.
At least that was Hitler’s version. In truth, it was soldiers of the Abwehr and the SS, operating under a false flag, who staged the attack. The purpose was to give pretext to Germany’s invasion of Poland, the opening salvo of World War II.
Some two weeks later, the Soviet Union followed suit, in accordance with the secret appendix of the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact. What the Soviets didn’t seem to realize was that they remained the real target in Hitler’s master plan, Germany’s intended lebensraum: Poland was simply in the way. Even the Western Allies’ predictable response, a declaration of war on Germany, proved to serve Hitler’s interests: after the collapse of France, Hitler was ready to march against Russia with no threat of a second front opening up in the West.
Hitler really must have thought that he had an unbeatable hand… his plans only began to unravel in the winter of 1941-42, when the Soviets launched their first major counteroffensive. Which was made possible, indirectly, by Pearl Harbor… no, not America’s entry in the war, but the fact that the Soviet Union no longer had to fear a Japanese invasion.
Yet the war dragged on for several more years… and by the time it was over, some 50 million people were dead, much of Europe and parts of Asia were in ruins, and two Japanese cities went up in radioactive smoke.
Can it happen again? Sometimes I wonder…
I’ve been looking at the Web page of Hungary’s Museum of Electrical Technology. A fascinating site, pity it’s in Hungarian only.
The Museum has many permanent exhibitions, one of which is about the technology of electrical lighting. One of the pictures available online shows some period lighting fixtures.
Period street lighting fixtures
Fixtures like these were still seen on many Budapest streets when I was a child. I don’t know if it’s just me, but I find these lighting fixtures rather unfriendly in appearance, hostile even. It is almost as if their main purpose was not to provide comfort through light, but to intimidate.
Exactly 60 years ago, on August 29, 1949, the Soviet Union exploded their first nuclear bomb in the Semipalatinsk test field located in present-day Kazakhstan. The nuclear cold war began. Some forty years later, the cold war supposedly ended, but the vast nuclear arsenals are still there, ready to be deployed on a moment’s notice… so I am not sure what, if anything, has changed in the last 20 years other than the fact that the weapons systems are now older and less reliable… which is not exactly reassuring.
Amidst all the excitement, I almost forgot: Yesterday was the fiftieth anniversary of the unforgettable Kitchen Debate between Richard Nixon and Nikita Khrushchev.
Forty years ago this morning, Apollo 11 was launched: Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin were on their way to land at Mare Tranquilitatis, in the most significant journey in human history to this date.
The scary part is that this year also marks the 37th anniversary of the last trip to the Moon, indeed the last voyage by a human being beyond low Earth orbit.
I was only 6 when Armstrong and Aldrin landed on the Moon, and I had no doubt in my mind that by the time I turn 46, there would be people on the Moon, on Mars, possibly on select satellites of Jupiter and Saturn, perhaps even on their way to the stars.
Now that I am 46, I am doubtful that I will live long enough to see another human fly beyond low Earth orbit. This is not a pleasant thought. Perhaps I’ll be lucky enough to live another 40 years in good physical and mental health, and get a chance to be proven wrong.
Until then, I keep dwelling on the irony of the fact that nowadays, most of the documentaries you can find on manned deep space missions and exploration of the Moon are aired on the History Channel.
I hold in my hands a copy of the June 5, 1939 issue of Life magazine. It is very interesting.
The cover theme is “America’s future”. On the first page, a full page ad features a Chrysler Plymouth coupe for the princely sum of 645 US dollars, taxes and charges included, delivered in Detroit.
The magazine features an illustrated report about the rescue of submariners from the USS Squalus, an incident famous to this day, as this was the first time sailors were rescued successfully from a disabled submarine nearly 80 meters below the surface.
There is a pictorial report about America’s yesterday, nearly a century of photographs (counting back from 1939 that is!) documenting America’s past.
An elegant Westfield watch cost $9.95, a “sensational new miniature” 35mm camera from Eastman Kodak was advertised at $33.50, while an 8mm Cine-Kodak movie camera (“also makes movies in gorgeous full color on Kodachrome Film!” No mention of sound, mind you) was only $29.50.
There is a full-color, two-page “official map of the United States of America – 1939”, and a wonderful full page color photograph of the Hoover Dam. Then there is a “portrait of America” in maps, pictures, and words. A picture report shows numerous scenes from documentaries about urban life in America. The promise, it seems, is that thanks to the automobile and “smooth new parkways”, Americans will soon live in “towns too small for traffic jams” where children get “a chance to play in safety”. The “girl of tomorrow” wears wire eyelashes and walks about in elevator shoes with 4-inch thick soles.
Then there is “America in 1960”, straight from General Motors’ famed Futurama at the New York World Fair. Express highways with 14-lanes indeed… as if only 14 lanes would suffice in places like Toronto!
In “Headlines to the editors”, we read that “Einstein Believes He’s Found Solution to Gravitation Riddle”. (Not sure what this refers to… perhaps Einstein’s 1939 paper (Ann. of Math 40, 922) challenging the existence of black holes?) We read that “New Key is Found to Atomic Energy […] With Power to Release Largest Store Known on Earth”, and that “Endless Duel of Atoms Declared Source of Fuel in Furnace of Sun”. What the magazine isn’t talking about is that two months later, on August 2, 1939, Einstein would sign a letter that was drafted by Leo Szilard and addressed to President Roosevelt, about the possibility that atomic energy could be used to build a weapon. The rest, the Manhattan Project, that is, is of course history.
Finally, a back page ad suggests, “for smoking pleasure at its best, let up–light up a Camel!” Back in my smoking days, Camels were my favorite.
So what else happened on the week of June 5, 1939? Oh, of course. My Mom was born.
65 years ago today, Allied troops landed in Normandy. CNN described this as “turning the tide”. It didn’t. The tide was turned in the winter of 1941-1942 at Moscow, or later, at Stalingrad. That does not make the sacrifices of those who landed in Normandy on this day any less heroic, mind you, or their accomplishments any less important… not only did they liberate large chunks of Europe from Hitler’s Third Reich, they also ensured that these chunks of Europe would not fall under the boot of Stalin. Sadly, Hungary was not one of these chunks.
Beijing celebrates the 20th anniversary of the Tiananmen Square massacre with umbrellas.
This weirdness came about as plainclothes policemen were trying to interfere with foreign television crews by blocking cameras with open umbrellas:
Umbrellas in Beijing
Whatever reason they have for doing this, it is strikingly pointless. Thanks in part to the tireless efforts of Chinese police, there are no mass demonstrations on Tiananmen Square, no protests, no silent vigils. Journalists who went there would be coming back with boring shots of a square that looks just like it looks on any other day… were it not for the umbrellas.
So why the umbrellas? Why not just round up and haul away foreign journalists? Is this a regime with a (guilty) conscience? When that happened in Hungary, when members of Hungary’s communist Politburo began relabeling the “counterrevolution” of 1956 as a (popular) uprising, the end was not far down the line: within a couple of years, the country opened its borders to East Germans fleeing to the West, transformed itself into a multi-party democracy, and arguably began the chain reaction that led to the collapse of the Soviet empire.
I think we should officially declare June 4 from now on Umbrella Day. (Hey, if we can have a Towel Day…)