Climategate. The conspiracy behind the Anthropogenic Global Warming myth

“If you own any shares in alternative energy companies,” writes James Delingpole in his blog for The Telegraph, “I should start dumping them NOW.” Why on earth? Just ask Anthony Watts of Watt’s Up With That? and Stephen McIntrye of Climate Audit, who broke the story this morning of the hacking break-in at the University of East Anglia’s Climate Research Unit. The story of how the conspiracy behind the Anthropogenic Global Warming myth has been brutally exposed after a heap of very confidential files, emails, etc. have been made available on the internet.

It is no exaggeration to say that this scandal could turn out to be the greatest in modern science, with stories of conspiracy, collusion in exaggerating warming data, private doubts about whether the world really is heating up, attempts to disguise the inconvenient truth of the Medieval Warm Period, possibly illegal destruction of embarrassing information, fantasies of violence against prominent Climate Sceptic scientists, organised resistance to disclosure, manipulation of data, private admissions of flaws in their public claims, and, last but not least, how to create a scientific climate in which anyone who disagrees with the Anthropogenic Global Warming can be written off as a crank, whose views do not have a scrap of authority.
[Thanks: Michelle Malkin]

Tibet: a dialogue about what?

Speaking at the 5th World Parliamentarians Convention on Tibet, held in Rome yesterday, the Dalai Lama expressed his appreciation for the support given to him by Barack Obama, who on Tuesday discussed Tibet with China’s president, “making clear his respect for the Dalai Lama as a cultural and religious leader, and his intention to meet with the Dalai Lama at an appropriate time.” “We did note that while we recognize that Tibet is part of the People’s Republic of China, the United States supports the early resumption of dialogue between the Dalai Lama’s representatives and Beijing,” Obama said soon after his meeting with Hu Jintao.

Yet, notwithstanding the appointment of a special Tibet coordinator by the White House, with one of his characteristic laugh, His Holiness also noted the “limitations” to the support he could expect from the US. In fact, if the US recognizes that Tibet is nothing but a part of China, “What bargaining chips remain for the Dalai Lama to use with the Chi-Comms?” as rightly pointed out by Ralph Alter on American Thinker. As a matter of fact, Obama’s statement shocked the entire Tibetan community, said Tenzin Cheoying, the president of a voluntary, Students for Free Tibet.

As Dhondup Dorjee, vice president of the Tibetan Youth Congress, puts it,

“Whatever he (Obama) stated today, of course, Tibetans in general we welcome his appeal to the Chinese leadership in urging early resumption of dialogue, but a dialogue without any result, dialogue with lots of pre-conditions from the Chinese government and with no intentions to come to a solution, will reach us no where. So, we expect the President to take up the Tibet issue at a higher level, not at the mere usual common stand to encourage dialogue. And, what was the fate of the dialogue we have seen in the 80’s and even in the recent dialogue what happened.”

Very well said, if I may add. But then again, what has become more and more clear in the course of the last months is that times have changed, and much water has flowed under the bridge since the day that George W Bush met the Tibetan spiritual leader in public in a ceremony on Capitol Hill, a couple of years ago. Everything became clear when, last October, for the first time since 1991, a US President decided to postpone a meeting with the Dalai Lama until after this November summit between Obama and his Chinese counterpart, in order to maintain good relations with the Chinese government. Congressman Frank Wolf described the presidential snub as an embarrassment: “Economics should not trump human rights. You can do them both together and do them respectfully,” he said.

What we can say today is that President Obama “effectively forfeited the issue of Tibetan sovereignty in favor of Hu Jintao’s expansionist government,” as Ralph Alter puts it, and that

Obama’s October cancellation of a tentative meeting with the Dalai Lama, the exiled Tibetan spiritual leader, suggested that B.O. was looking for negotiating room in anticipation of his scheduled visit to Beijing. Despite Chinese forces torching Tibetan shops and attacking its citizens, it appears the U.S. President simply folded his hand, effectively tossing the Dalai Lama and his people into the crowded undercarriage beneath the Obama bus.

But most Americans, according to Alter, “are disgusted with B.O.’s determination to promote his ½ America principle.” Perhaps he’s right. As far as I am concerned, as a European by birth but an “American by philosophy,” I cannot but ask myself (once again): “Is this the America that the Founding Fathers would have wanted?”

More control of the health-care system?

The White House reports that

The federal government made $98 billion in improper payments in fiscal 2009 […].
The 2009 total for improper payments—from outright fraud to misdirected reimbursements due to factors such as an illegible doctor's signature—was a 37.5 percent increase over the $72 billion in 2008, according to figures provided by Peter Orszag, director of the White House Office of Management and Budget.

And they want more control of the health-care system…
[Thanks: Leslie Carbone]

A miracle in Arizona

Finally, a stimulus success story? Yes, if you trust the website set up by the White House to track stimulus spending. In fact, according to the above mentioned website, in Arizona’s 15th congressional district 30 jobs have been saved or created with just $761,420 in federal stimulus spending. Wow! Wouldn’t it be great if it were true? There seems to be one problem, though: There is no 15th congressional district in Arizona; the state has only eight districts...

So, what’s the moral of the story? It’s a very simple one: “It’s a miracle! Stimulus dollars create or save jobs even in congressional districts that don’t exist!” What else?

Venezia

        Italian souvenirs by Mirino

It sometime happens. Dreams coming true. A wonderful gift from a dear friend. A carnival weekend in Venice.
We arrived very early having taken the night train. The sun, pale orange-carmine, gloriously magnified, was rising to greet us, but it was very cold. The fresh wind whipped our faces. And that first cup of cappuccino in the cosy, fragrant bar was so welcome and warming!

Within easy walking distance to the Piazza San Marco, the little hotel was perfect. In fact we had an independent room quite separate from the hotel itself, its door giving us direct access to the little, outside lane. We could come and go without disturbing anyone.

Gradually it all started. One could already feel the build up of a special atmosphere. And as it all unfolded, as though every detail and event was preconceived for the realisation of the complete capolavoro veneziano, I had the wonderful impression that I was being consecutively directed to where each event of real significance and artistic merit was taking place.

Maybe it was my own childish enthusiasm or awareness, incited by the imaginative intelligence, the beauty, and elegance of so many of those participating, their fabulous costumes and masks, that also guided me and created that necessary contact when one wishes to record as well as possible what's taking place.

I like to think that many photographs I took reveal this special contact. That certain expression, sad, beautiful eyes that really look at you from behind the mysterious mask that appears to convey exactly the same emotion. That particular penetrating and haunting gaze of someone disguised as death itself, that would later inspire me. Each moment was magic from beginning till end, from morning till night. 
I know how unique this occasion was for me. Such moments can never be repeated. It's no good trying to repeat them. It would be a mistake, like attempting to reproduce an outstanding work of art, instead of simply treasuring the original, in this case, in the mind's eye.
I would gladly visit Venice again, but not to see another carnival. I treasure too much the gift. The unique realisation of a dream. (Venezia, un Giorno)

Trying to capture the magic of the Venetian Carnival is nothing new of course. It has been the source of inspiration for centuries. And the fact that it's roots date from as far back as the thirteenth century can only add to its special enchantment and mystery. It's also a revealing indication of the liberality and libertinism of the Venetians. (A Venetian decree established in 1458 forbade men dressed as women from entering convents with immoral intentions..). But at one time the festivities were violent, due to differences between rival parishes then dividing the city. Sixteenth century history records mass fighting, particularly on the bridges. Open bull fights and the running of pigs or oxen in Venice are also recorded. It's difficult to associate this with the Renaissance, with the magnificent feats of art and architecture, and the exquisite finesse of its fashions. Perhaps this is another paradox of the times, or would it be caused by the frustrations of class division and social discontent then generally rife in Europe?

Our brief Venetian stay was naturally much calmer. For our last evening, we found a charming little restaurant, and again there was that indefinable contact, a sort of mutual recognition, perhaps appreciation, one would like to believe. No need to talk, or to try to communicate, it's already there, the excellent meal, wine and atmosphere. The complicit cordiality and elegance of the proprietress. That warm, spontaneous and nostalgic way in which she bade us farewell.
Should we ever return to Venice in another season, I wonder if we shall be able to find that little restaurant again. But perhaps we should never even try. 

_____

Text & image © Mirino (PW) November, 2009. Source Wikipedia.

  

What we can learn from the Scandal of the Cross

There was an interesting piece in yesterday’s WSJ op-ed page on the issue of crucifixes in Italian schools (see my previous posts). In particular, after taking note—in line with the most common reactions, here in Italy, to the ruling by the European Court of Human Rights against crucifixes—that “anyone who cares about Italy’s national identity and distinctive traditions […] must give serious weight to the cultural case for crucifixes in schools,” the author pointed out that, nevertheless, “Christians might want to hesitate before adopting this line of argument, because displaying their faith's holiest symbol on these terms could come at the price of its trivialization.”

A Muslim colleague of mine, long resident in Italy, told me on the day after the court’s ruling that he had no objection to crucifixes in classrooms. But he said he found all the talk about the object as a cultural icon to be demeaning, as if placing it on par with the regional costumes worn by folk dancers at holiday celebrations.

That’s a very interesting point, in my view. That’s also part of what I meant when, from the very first post of the series, I conceded that the question in itself is a very broad and debatable one, that there is much to ponder and discuss about it. I dare to say, in addition, that in the light of what our schools have become in the past few years, I wouldn’t be surprised if some Catholic priests (if not the Church itself) were willing to remove motu proprio crucifixes from classrooms! (Hey I’m just kidding …)

But then again, the problem is not primarily a religious one, but rather a cultural (and political) issue, even though this may mean a “trivialization” of the whole issue.

Yet another interesting objection: as the article also reports, Italy’s new opposition leader Pier Luigi Bersani said ancient traditions such as the crucifix “cannot be offensive to anyone.” “But if he is right,” continues the author, “Christians should hardly rejoice.” In fact,

Soren Kierkegaard, who foresaw so much of post-Christian Europe more than a century and a half ago, wrote that a society incapable of taking offense at Christianity is lost to the faith, because it endorses the "glorious results" of the church's human history, instead of facing up to the original humiliation and sacrifice of God-made-man, which by worldly values are a scandal.

Yes, the scandal of the Cross… What a glorious, awesome, beautiful mystery! What an absurd anomaly, especially in today’s world! Because Christianity, as everybody knows, is not the same as the world-system. Christianity is of a different order... Yet, I don’t like the way the article ends:

Politicians naturally avoid such discomfiting ideas for the safety of abstractions like heritage and culture, and so prefer to justify the crucifix as a token of national tradition, without going into gory details. But to regard the object in such a way is to obscure its essential meaning, and thus poorly serve Italian students and citizens of all persuasions.

Politicians, in fact, are not theologians, and most of all, as far as I know, they are part of the world-system, they live in and belong to this world. And Christians involved in politics make no exception, though not without a secret regret. Quite a difficult position, no doubt. And an infinite story as well.

"The language of Europe is translation"

As Umberto Eco once perceptively observed, “the language of Europe is translation.” Linguistic diversity, in fact, is a defining feature of Europe, whose cultural heritage includes masterpieces written originally in different languages, but common to us all thanks to a long-standing tradition of literary translation. Eco’s famous statement reappears in Leyla Dakhli’s interesting review (in French) of François Ost’s Traduire: Défense et illustration du multilinguisme. [Thanks: Arthur Goldhammer]

"Christophobia," a wall that hasn’t fallen yet

Yesterday, the world celebrated the 20th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall, and I would have liked to write about that historic event. Yet, browsing the blogosphere, I realized that there was such a quantity of wonderfully written tributes that I decided to give up. But today I would like to somehow make up for the lost opportunity. In fact, what this post will be all about is another wall.., a wall that, unfortunately, hasn’t fallen yet.

In two of my previous posts I wrote about the ruling by the European Court of Human Rights against crucifixes in Italian schools. A paradigmatic and emblematic case. In the second post I also mentioned the Buttiglione affair (October 2004): a distinguished Italian philosopher and politician whose views on homosexuality and abortion were claimed by a member of the European Parliament to be “in direct contradiction of European law” and consequently such as to prevent him from becoming European Commissioner for Justice, Freedom and Security. Buttiglione, in turn, reminded his inquisitor of the famous kantian distinction between morality and law, and made it clear that it was his firm conviction that many things considered immoral should not be criminalized. But it was in vain, and he ultimately withdrew when it became clear that too many Euro-parliamentarians (most of them Socialists) agreed with the claim that he was unfit to hold office. Yet another paradigmatic case.

Later on, Buttiglione was asked by an online magazine to further explain how can be defined the relationship between the two concepts of ethics and legislation and whether or not every moral value should be legislated for. Here is how he answered (I’m quoting from the English translation, provided by the magazine itself, from the original Italian text):

If all immoral acts were punished by law, there’d be few people left walking free on the street, we’d all be in jail, including myself probably. No, moral conscience is one thing, the law is another. We have to hold onto this difference. I can think that you are mistaken, but I have to be ready to give my life to maintain your right to make mistakes. I have to, though, have the right to say that you’re mistaken. This is the principle of the liberal society. Priests have to have the right to say that a sin is a sin. Laypeople [laici] have to have the freedom as well to say that a sin is a sin. Sinners have to have the right to sin, up to the point, obviously, where it doesn’t produce damage, at which point the law intervenes. The law doesn’t touch upon the morality of our behaviour, but it touches upon the defence of the rights of the other. It’s an old distinction that remains valid. Today there’s a tendency to deny this distinction. My case in Bruxelles is an example. I support non-discrimination for homosexuals, but I think, or at least I have the right to think - without saying whether I think it or not - I have the right to think, along with the catechism of the Catholic Church, that homosexuality is morally wrong. I’ve the right to think that. In Bruxelles, they questioned me not to find out what my politics were: they wanted to know what my moral convictions were. And they discriminated against me because of my moral convictions, which furthermore have nothing to do with politics, apart from the fact that in matters relating to the family, the European Union has no competence. It’s a competence of the State, and it’s as well that it remains a competence of the State.
[Italics mine]

Now, in my opinion, the “special treatment” to which Buttiglione was subjected—his being inquired about and discriminated because of his moral convictions—goes beyond a separation of Church and State, and becomes hostility toward any form of political and cultural relevance of religion. In other words, Buttiglione’s withdrawal was the triumph of what he himself described as the “new totalitarianism.” Which is not, I believe, an exaggeration. Six months later, in fact, the then Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger described the same phenomenon as “the dictatorship of relativism,” in a sermon opening the papal conclave of 2005. Of course, what is worst is that this new dictatorship marches under the banner of “tolerance,” “political correctness” and, needless to say, “human rights.”

Incidentally, the European Union Commission and the European Parliament had no problem when they accepted László Kovács of Hungary, a former career Communist official with decades of totalitarian experience, as a European commissioner (Taxation and Customs Union). Kovács worked closely—as Deputy Head of the Department of International Relations of the Hungarian Communist Party’s Central Committee—with the leadership of János Kádár’s sinister regime, “installed literally over the dead bodies of the Hungarian democracy activists killed by Soviet tanks after the 1956 popular uprising against the Communist Party’s monopoly of power,” as Samuel Gregg of the Acton Institute put it in a December 7, 2004, Washington Times article. Given that communist systems imprisoned, tortured and murdered millions of people, Gregg continues,

one might think Euro parliamentarians would be slightly concerned about how deeply Mr. Kovacs was involved in some of the darker aspects of Hungary's communist dictatorship.
Just as searching questions were rightly asked of former Nazi Party members seeking public office in postwar Germany, they might have queried speeches Mr. Kovacs gave in the 1980s, attacking Western institutions such as NATO and extolling the Soviet Union as the bedrock of Eastern Europe's "stability."
Instead, the Euro MPs confined themselves to grumbling about Mr. Kovacs' somewhat scanty knowledge of energy policy. Mr. Kovacs passed his confirmation hearings with flying colors and is now the EU taxation and customs commissioner.
Rocco Buttiglione never previously participated in a murderous regime. He is a worldly, mild-mannered, philosophy professor who can be defined as a classical liberal in the Acton-Tocqueville tradition. Yet Mr. Buttiglione was the focus of a tempest in the European Parliament. The same MPs who calmly evaluated the nomination of several ex-communists labeled Mr. Buttiglione a potential inquisitor, an intolerant zealot, and a stain on the political landscape. His views, they said, made him unfit for office.
All Professor Buttiglione did was articulate his beliefs and answer questions. A full reading of the confirmation hearings transcripts reveal a man with profound tolerance and a commitment to equality before the law and to the equal dignity of every individual. The transcripts also reveal his religious faith and his personal views on the family and homosexuality -- views Mr. Buttiglione stressed would not affect his official duties. His opponents, however, began a public campaign and maliciously quoted the transcripts selectively to caricature Mr. Buttiglione as a homophobe who believes women should be in the home with children (ironically, Mr. Buttiglione's wife is a successful working professional).

The transcripts to which Gregg refers, along with a wide selection of articles by and about Rocco Buttiglione, are available here.


The truth is—as the two exemples (that of Buttiglione and of the ruling by the European Court of Human Rights against crucifixes) demonstrate—that there is a wall that, as I said at the beginning of this post, hasn’t fallen yet. This is a living wall, made up of thoughts and convictions, and its name is “Christophobia,” a term coined by international legal scholar (and an observant Jew) J.H.H. Weiler to describe a phenomenon clearly prevalent in many parts of Europe: not merely a fear of Christianity and Christians, but the root of the refusal to acknowledge what Weiler himself regarded as obvious: that Christian ideas and values were one of the principal sources of European civilization and of Europe’s contemporary commitment to human rights and democracy. “Christophobia” is deeply rooted in European laïcité, as distinct from American secularism: it is not simply a “I don’t happen to believe in God.” It is, in Weiler’s own words, “a kind of faith in itself. It is a positive hostility to religion, which in Europe means Christianity.”

So, what to say about that other wall? Well, I must confess that this is a rhetorical question, since I had my answer ready before asking the question: “Europe, tear down this wall!”

Roma

         
        Italian souvenirs by Mirino

My unique visit to Rome was for a long weekend in September, nine years ago, for the wedding of a most worthy nephew and his beautiful and intelligent bride tedesca-italiana. It was a magical stay, not only because of the wonderful wedding, officiated in the Chiesa di San Lorenzo in Miranda (by an excellent, Liverpudlian priest) followed by a sumptuous reception at the charming and prestigeous Castello di Torcrescenza, but for other, more personal reasons, including what I have since cherished as a unique and precious gift.

The day before the wedding we wanted to see the Vatican which was within easy walking distance from our hotel. This was simply to see and admire the architecture, perhaps visit St Peter's Basilica if possible, and wander round the square. As it was pouring with rain, it wasn't thought likely that we would stay out for very long.

Strangely however, as we approached the Vatican, we were engulfed by an ever increasing flow of people with umbrellas, all intent on arriving, or being swept along and into, la Piazza San Pietro. There were so many people that the enormous square seemed smaller than it actually was. And all the coloured umbrellas seemed to join to represent the shell of a massive, festooned tortoise.

Despite the rain, or perhaps also because of it, there was an extraordinary, electric atmosphere. Of course all this was totally unexpected. Obviously Pope Jean-Paul II was due to arrive. Word was spreading however that because of the weather and his fragile health, the address he was supposed to make would probably be cancelled.

Suddenly, purely by accident, I found myself perfectly placed. The Pope had arrived. He was driven slowly past, just there, right in front of me. It was as though I could have touched him. I was totally spell-bound. He was so white and his skin had a luminous quality that reminded me distinctly of our mother's, on another special day exacly one year before when she lay as though in state, the majestic, Scottish lady that indeed she had been and appeared to be even more so then.

For me this was enough. It was the year 2000. The Great Jubilee year. He would make an address that I wouldn't be able to follow or hear in any case. But it didn't matter. Next to me there was an American. His eyes too shone with wonder. We stared at each other through tears because we must have understood that this, with the thick, grey curtain of rain bouncing like countless jewels off the hundreds of coloured umbrellas, was a blessing. An unforgettable moment which left us speechless.

I'm neither starry-eyed nor conventionally religious, and it's probable that we all make personal connotations at such times, but that moment made an enormous impact on me.
                                                                        
For the following wedding day, a fresh breeze had cleared the sky leaving only those glorious, cumulous clouds against cobalt blue that make such perfect, aspiring backgrounds for certain, renaissance, profile portraits of Italian nobility.

Everything was ideal and it was a great privileged to be there to follow all the proceedings, yet involuntarily I was also transported elsewhere, still in wonder of what I had seen and felt the day before.                                                            

_____

The Church of San Lorenzo in Miranda was built within the remains of the Roman temple of Antoninus and Faustina. Begun in the year 141 by the Emperor Antoninus Pius it was built as a dedication to his late, deified wife Faustina the elder.

The temple was rededicated after the death and deification of the Emperor himself to become that of 'Antoninus and Faustina'.

The church- 'San Lorenzo in Miranda' may already have been established in the seventh century, but it 's officially dated from the eleventh century.

The Castello di Torcrescenza is named after the castle built in 1400 by the Marquis Francesco Crescenza who had it built on the site of the original ancient tower dating from the eleventh century. It is situated in Rome in a beautiful old park embellished with many fountains.

 _____

Text © Mirino (PW) November, 2009. Source Wikipedia. Image Piazza San Pietro with thanks to Wikimedia Commons. Photo Tempio di Antonino e Faustina with thanks to Dan Kramminga.

                                                                 

Da Pacem Domine - Monastic Gregorian Chant

Yes, I love Gregorian Chant. Ever since I was a young boy I have been fascinated by the whole world around it. I love when the monks glide softly into the church, their white or black cowls—depending on which monastic order they belong to—billowing behind them, when they line up in silence, facing each other in long choir stalls. I love when “bells peal and the chant begins—low at first, then swelling as all the monks join in. Their soft voices wash over the ancient stones, replacing the empty clatter of the day with something like the sound of eternity,” as American journalist Mark Landler put it in his June 26, 2008 lyrical piece in the New York Times.

Yes, I love Gregorian Chant and didn’t have to wait until 1994, when the Benedictines of Santo Domingo de Solis, in Spain, prompted the last big revival of it with an album that became a phenomenon, nor did I have to wait until May 2008, when the Cistercian monks of the Stift Heiligenkreuz, deep in the Vienna woods, released an album of Gregorian chants, “Chant: Music for Paradise,” which shot to No. 7 in the British pop charts—at one point outselling releases from Amy Winehouse and Madonna—and made those monks a crossover hit, the latest example of how a once-neglected 1,000-year-old part of the Roman Catholic liturgy, can be repackaged for a secular society that savors its soothing, otherworldly cadences.

Yes, I love Gregorian Chant, and would like to share this passion of mine with all of you, my loyal readers. So enjoy this one and stay tuned for more info and videos.. [Thanks: The Metaphysical Peregrine]

Da Pacem Domine - Monastic Gregorian Chant - Watch more Videos at Vodpod.

Strasbourg: capital of muscular secularism

It is by no means an uncommon experience (for me, at least) to read a well-crafted piece on Italy in a foreign newspaper or magazine, whether European or American. And that’s why I feel like I have to mention this one in Time magazine. It provides a concise, yet thorough, coverage of the issue of the display of crucifixes in public school classrooms after the ruling by the European Court of Human Rights (see my previous post).

“Europe’s increasingly muscular brand of secularism,” says the article. “has an unofficial capital: Strasbourg, France, […] home to the European Parliament and other key international bodies.” In fact, over the past decade, Strasbourg “has been the site of a series of repeated slap-downs to those who are fighting to hold on to the Old Continent’s fading religious impulses.” In 2004, for instance, a committee of the EU Parliament torpedoed the nomination of Rocco Buttiglione, a prominent Italian politician known for his traditional Catholic views and friendship with Pope John Paul II, as European Commissioner for Justice..

Of course, as the article points out, the presence of this Christian symbol in public schools “might be jarring to those in the U.S. and U.K.—even to the religiously inclined—where separation of church and state is drawn with clear lines,” but “the crucifix is widely accepted by Italians as a cultural as well as religious symbol.” Furthermore, while a 2008 Gallup poll registered that more than two-thirds of respondents in countries such as Britain, France, the Czech Republic and all of Scandinavia responded “No” to the question of whether religion was important to them, in Italy only 26% of respondents answered “No” to the same question.

Does this suggest anything about the state-of-the-art of the subject?

A blow against Europe's Christian heritage? Well, yes, actually

So the European Court of Human Rights ruled against the use of crucifixes in classrooms in Italy last Tuesday, and this because, according the seven judges ruling on the case, the compulsory display “in premises used by the public authorities” of a particular religious symbol “restricted the right of parents to educate their children in conformity with their convictions, and the right of children to believe or not to believe.”

It also seems that the decision was taken unanimously, which is perhaps more emblematic than the ruling in itself. Now, although I am a conservative Christian (Catholic), I don’t want to be too harsh and/or too categorical on this.

Well, I am convinced that the display of a symbol which is deeply rooted in the conscience of so many Italians is nothing but the recognition of their own cultural identity, and that the principle of the secularity of institutions is something else than the denial of the role of Christianity in the formation of the Western civilization and of the Italian identity. But, at the same time, I concede that there is much to ponder and discuss about the issue of religious symbols in public school classrooms, and that the question in itself is a very broad and debatable one.

Yet, politically speaking, I wonder whether that decision is well-timed and “appropriate to the context,” I mean, I wonder whether it is a suitable and a wise one today, in this period of our history, although I won’t say, along with Prime minister Silvio Berlusconi, that the European Court of Human Rights makes us doubt the common sense of this Europe.. However, one thing is to decide not to display the crucifix where there hasn’t ever been one, and another very different is to rule against the display of crucifix where there is a long tradition of displaying the central symbol of Christianity.

That’s why, even apart from my religious beliefs, I cannot but agree with Cardinal Giovanni Battista Re, who told La Repubblica newspaper he could not understand the decision:

“When I think that we are talking about a symbol, the crucifix, an image that cannot but be the emblem of a universally shared humanity, I not only feel disappointed but also sadness and grief.
The crucifix is the sign of a God that loves man to the point of giving up his life for him. It is a God that teaches us to learn to love, to pay attention to each man ... and to respect the others, even those who belong to a different culture or religion.
How could someone not share such a symbol?”

And that's also why I think the Italian government, which said it would appeal the European Court's verdict, is definitely right.

The Afghan democracy

            Opinion, by Mirino 
Is it not suspiciously strange and even hypocritical that there is no international support in favour of the conditions that Abdullah Abdullah requires in order for him to participate in the second ballot of the Afghan elections?
It's not as though he doesn't represent a considerable proportion of Afghans. It's not as though a man of his stature is of no consequence.

Yet It would seem that his requirements to insure that essential voting principles in democracy are fully respected, are not even shared by those who are sending and sacrificing troops in defence of essentially what Abdullah is trying to uphold.

Reading between the lines of a recent article in Le Figaro, it would seem that one wouldn't be alone in having such doubts about this. 

Whilst Obama is mulling over how many more troops he should send to Afghanistan, despite the opinions of those who in any case should know far better from experience, the essential issue of what Nato and the Afghans themselves should be defending, seems to be of less consequence to him.
The only explanation for this would be the tacit requirement that Karzai stays in office as president of Afghanistan.

If I were Afghan, I wouldn't be at all satisfied with this arrangement, and I would be very disappointed in such a so called democracy that I would already have risked my life for.

_____

Verona

          
        Italian souvenirs by Mirino

In the 'old days' artists had a bound duty to defend their copyright more than might appear to be the case today- thanks to the generous miracle of Internet.

It was signalled to me on one of those 'old days' that someone in Verona was pirating my work in various forms of stationery. I was even given the address. So after writing several threatening letters that proved to be totally ineffective, I decided that the only possible way to resolve the affair would be to go to Verona and corner the culprit. So this I did.

Naively I imagined that it would only take a day, driving there and back, so I didn't take much money. In those days I didn't have much money to take, not that there's ever been any great change in the status quo.

Miraculously I found the place, a sort of prefabricated box building in a seedy suburb of Verona. The director however wasn't there. He was in Torino.
I didn't speak any Italian. I imagined then that everyone spoke French. I told the secretary and others that stared at me with expressions of curiosity and amusement, that I wouldn't leave until he returned. This was impractical because he wasn't due to return until the following day, if not the day after.

In the meantime I decided I should first go to the Chamber of Commerce of Verona in the Piazza delle Erbe. I wonder now how on earth I  managed that, but I did. I found myself opposite a huge man who, with impressive aplomb and weighty gestures, smilingly conveyed that nothing is ever that simple. 'One has to be flexible', etc. He telephoned the company and spoke to whoever was in charge in the boss's absence. At one point during the conversation he ponderingly nodded then gave me a conspiring wink. This indicated, I later discovered, that the person he spoke to had made a serious boob which would enable me to gain satisfaction. But I would have to wait a couple of days.

Fortunately I had a credit card with me so I was able to withdraw the amount of cash I thought I would need. I found a little, reasonable hotel and decided to make the most of my stay by visiting the sites of Verona. I walked miles in the mildness of the clear autumnal weather, visited the Giardino Giusti, strolled down the Via Giuseppe Mazzini to the old market in the Piazza delle Erbe once more, and took the time to admire the lofty tower Lamberti. I visited the famous balcony of Juliet Capuleti which adds even more credence and charm to Shakespeare's immortal Romeo and Juliet.

I ate on the terrace of a little restaurant not far from the Roman Amphitheatre. They may have suspected how skint I was from my appearance. I was convinced that they always gave me huge helpings of tagliatelle and allowed me to demolish all the grated parmesan in view of this. Maybe it was this attention, real or imagined, that contributed to my fondness of Italy.

The third day, after what was a short and most agreeable, surprise holiday, I met the fellow responsible for the pirating. He accepted his responsibility with sheepish grace.
We went to his bank. As the appropriate withdrawal that would secure the rights in question was made, his banker looked at me hatefully as if I were committing a hold up. The pirate's car was even more of a wreck than mine. I was even beginning to feel sorry for the poor guy..

With some of the money I haggled for and bought a Pavoni expresso coffee machine. One of those wonderful chrome beauties that necessitate the long and strenuous arm exercise to squeeze out the short expresso. I still have it and regard it proudly as a precious trophy. The element went years later but I was able to replace it in Milan. This cost me more than I originally paid for the coffee machine itself, but this, and Milano, is another story.

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Text © Mirino (PW) October, 2009.

"The spirit of Ronald Reagan is alive and well in America"

Washington-based foreign affairs analyst Nile Gardiner in his blog for the Daily Telegraph:

Last November, liberal commentators wrote off conservatism in America as dead and buried. As the latest Gallup poll shows they were spectacularly wrong. It is no coincidence that the most watched news network, the top selling national newspaper, and the most listened to radio shows in the United States are now all conservative.

The success of Fox News, The Wall Street Journal and talk radio hosts such as Rush Limbaugh, Sean Hannity and Mark Levin, is a powerful symbol of a vigorous challenge to current liberal dominance of Washington. The vast conservative blogosphere is also an increasingly influential force, from National Review’s The Corner to The Drudge Report, as are leading conservative commentators such as Charles Krauthammer. Combine that with a huge rise in membership this year for grass roots conservative groups campaigning against higher taxes, socialized health care, increased government spending, and defence cuts, and you have the foundations of another conservative revolution.

The spirit of Ronald Reagan is alive and well in America, exemplified by strong public backing for the principles of limited government, free enterprise, individual responsibility and a strong defence. The White House should sit up and take note: it is liberalism, and not conservatism, that is in decline in the United States.

Thanks: Sandra Kennedy.

Not one of those evasive Christians..

They say that big surprises come in small packages, and that’s the plain truth. In this case the package is an article on Slate, written by a guy whose first name is Christopher, but you can bet that he would have preferred a different name—“Christopher,” as it is well known, is of Greek origin, and its meaning is “bearing Christ inside”—had he had the choice. Oh, sorry! I hate people who beat about the bush! But then again, as you probably already guessed, I am talking about “that” Christopher, to be precise the journalist/writer who was the only witness called by the Vatican to give evidence against Mother Teresa’s beatification and canonization process..

And this is what he has to say about Pastor Douglas Wilson :

Wilson isn’t one of those evasive Christians who mumble apologetically about how some of the Bible stories are really just “metaphors.” He is willing to maintain very staunchly that Jesus of Nazareth was the Christ and that his sacrifice redeems our state of sin, which in turn is the outcome of our rebellion against God. He doesn’t waffle when asked why God allows so much evil and suffering—of course he “allows” it since it is the inescapable state of rebellious sinners. I much prefer this sincerity to the vague and Python-esque witterings of the interfaith and ecumenical groups who barely respect their own traditions and who look upon faith as just another word for community organizing.

Absolutely nothing to add. Read the whole thing here. (Via Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP)

He who lives by the sword..

You’ll remember in Matthew 26 when the man who drew his sword and cut off the ear of a servant of the high priest was told by Jesus, “Converte gladium tuum in locum suum. Omnes enim, qui acceperint gladium, gladio peribunt” (“Put up again thy sword into his place: for all they that take the sword shall perish with the sword”). Hence the famous proverb “He who lives by the sword, dies by the sword” (Latin: Qui gladio ferit, gladio perit). Well then, in a sense this is just what happened to the Italian Left, which tried to frame Silvio Berlusconi with a(n) (alleged) sex scandal and got itself in a big, embarrassing sex scandal.

What happened? Just as the Democratic Party was preparing to elect a new leader and relaunch its image in nationwide primary, Italy’s largest opposition party was last weekend rocked by a scandal involving Piero Marrazzo, the center-left Governor of Lazio. This is how things happened:

Last Saturday, former TV presenter Mr Marrazzo resigned his position following allegations that he had paid €80,000 to four carabinieri blackmailers in return for their silence about his regular frequenting of transsexual prostitutes in the Via Cassia area of Rome. The four policemen, who were arrested last Thursday, are also believed to have attempted to sell a short film, shot on a mobile phone, in which Mr Marrazzo is seen participating in “erotic games” with a viados, transsexual prostitute. […] Italian dailies yesterday carried interviews with various members of the Rome transsexual community who claimed that Mr Marazzo was a regular, much-prized client who would pay up to €3,000 for a “session”. All of the viados interviewed reported that their encounters with Mr Marrazzo also involved the consumption of cocaine. […] Furthermore, Via Gradoli [the street where is located the apartment in which many of Marrazzo’s encounters of the transsexual kind took place] residents claimed that Mr Marrazzo regularly used his auto blu (state car), complete with his police escort, when visiting the prostitutes.

Although at first Marrazzo denied everything (he was quoted in the daily newspaper La Repubblica saying that “the video is fake”), later on he acknowledged his fault: “It’s a personal case in which weaknesses that have to do with my private sphere have come into play.” Yet, he added, “The mistakes I have made have in no way interfered with my public activity.”

Last but not least, this is the latest sensational detail to emerge from investigations :

Three days before the arrest of the Carabinieri officers from the Trionfale company, Silvio Berlusconi warned Piero Marrazzo that Mondadori had been offered the video showing him with a transsexual. Mr Marrazzo then contacted the Photo Masi agency to try to get hold of the video. […] It turns out that, just as he had in July when he was surprised in the flat in Rome’s Via Gradoli, Mr Marrazzo declined to make a formal complaint and instead attempted to sort out things himself.

What shall I say about this except that, yeah, if you want to put it this way, they sowed the wind and reaped the whirlwind? And yet, in my view, this is not a reason for anyone in Italy to rejoice. Although it couldn’t be called “a bipartisan debacle” this is a sad moment for all those—whether they be right or left-wing—fighting the good fight for a better country.

Of course I don’t question Marrazzo’s sexual tastes, although I don’t certainly like them and even though, along with former prime minister—and senior Democratic Party figure—Massimo D’Alema, I think that “the private behaviour of a public figure has a public relevance.” No, I try to keep politics and my ethical convictions and religious beliefs separated. Marrazzo is to blame, above all, for giving in to blackmail, which is incompatible with the function or dignity of any public office. The rest is between him and his conscience, between Mr Marrazzo and his wife and family.

Bolzano

          Italian souvenirs by Mirino

My very first visit to Italy was from the North, travelling down from Munich to Bolzano. It was during the winter many years ago and I was with a girl friend. It was to be my initiation to skiing. She, a Bavarian, had helped me to buy second hand skis. Long, dark red 'Atomic' ones. Too long, too heavy and too fast for a total beginner who thought skiing would be a bit like roller-skating.

(My generation had 'Jacko-Skates'. Two pairs of wheels- front and back to each foot on an extensible chassis that was strapped to each shoe. As the wheels were made with hard, black rubber- far less noisy than the old metal ones, and as they rotated on ball-bearings and had a degree of 'torque', they were considered a revolutionary must. No one then would have ever come up with the single roller blade of wheels on special, dynamic, ankle protecting boots, knee and elbow protection pads and helmet. And an Ipod with ear phones would then have been considered even more alien. With 'Jacko-Skates' it was everyone for him or herself. We simply hoped to steer clear of little stones that tended to 'scrinch-jam' the wheels, and avoided, as best we could, from falling over).

Thus no doubt I was over confident, and so keen to ski that as soon as we arrived at the ski resort in the evening I went out in the dark, put them on to try them out on what I vaguely made out to be the nearest, gentle slope of deep, crisp snow.

This was a mistake of course. I took off, narrowly missed what I discovered the next day to be a car park on one side and a wood pile on the other, then eventually, fortunately, fell hard without breaking anything. It took me what seemed ages to wearily climb back up to the chalet in those black leather, lace up ski boots, heavily laden with my skis and smart chrome 'bâtons', yet unaccountably pleased with myself.

It's unlikely that there's a worst nor more irresponsible way of introducing oneself to the art of skiing, but it gave me even greater, totally unjustified, confidence for the following, sparkling, crystal clear morning when I could see where I was going. All I needed from then on was to learn how to turn and how to stop.

I no longer have those long, dark red skis, on which I learnt to ski, more out of necessity (the will to survive) than from any instruction or the mere pleasure of skiing, but I still have the very neat, and extremely reliable, Geze fixations. They'll work perfectly for generations, even though one would always have to attach leather straps to avoid losing the skis when having fallen, one is smartly ejected from them, as I so often was.

None of this has anything to do with Bolzano or Italy, but then I was very young, fool-hardy and one track minded- certainly in this particular case. I knew nothing of the local history or that if Benito Mussolini succeeded in accomplishing something positive, 'Italianizing' Bolzano (formally Bozen, the ethnic German city until the end of the first World War) might be considered an example.

I recall that, after a few days, still incredibly unscathed, I left my friend and my skis in her care, to take the train down to Genoa, then on to Monaco, France, to visit another friend. I vaguely remember having to change trains somewhere very early in the morning, maybe Genoa. In the cool, little waiting room there was a young soldier smoking, a priest reading, and old lady fast asleep. The stage was set. I remember thinking then, 'this is Italy'.

The train was packed when it eventually arrived, far too late, and it stopped at every single station from then on. I remember supporting someone who was sick, then at another moment sitting opposite, and far too near, a little, old, rural lady eating a black radish.
Then I remember the fresh sea air, the warm sunshine of the delightful morning, the Bougainvillea and the turquoise to deep blue sea as the little train puffed along the Mediterranean coast. It was the first time I had ever seen la Côte d'Azur.

It all now seems like a strange dream, and perhaps in a way it was.

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Text © Mirino (PW) October, 2009. 
Modified image (with thanks to Google Images)

Italian life under Fascism

The only place where I’d really appreciate coming across something called (or similar to) Fascism is.. in a history book held in the Rare Books & Special Collections section of a library. Well, this online exhibition—maintained by the Fry Collection, which is based at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, USA—of books, posters and other printed material relating to Mussolini’s regime from 1922 to 1945 is something very close to that. The site includes basic accompanying text about the history of the period. Good stuff for history teachers and scholars. Thanks : Mike Stajduhar.

Italian souvenirs

Rob made a recent suggestion that surprised me because I was musing about the exactly same thing. Recollections of visits to Italy, starting with an introduction, to kick off, of course.
The one that will begin this modest series, to be written in chronological order, could have taken place in any location where there was reasonable amount of snow and a good slope, but it was my first visit to Italy, and Italy was to make its impact.

What I omitted in this first account, was the initial drive that was supposed to be from Holland (Amsterdam) to Germany (Munich). For some unfathomable reason (and it's possible that reason never entered into it anyway) I had bought in the Amsterdam flee market (Waterloo-plein) a full grown crocodile skin, which included its head and teeth. My car broke down however in Arnhem and unfortunately it was to be a serious repair job. I had to leave the car, relying on the garage man to nurse it back to life in my absence, and continue the voyage by train. As I had, as always, a very limited budget, and as I could no longer travel easily with the crocodile, at least not without causing embarrassment or panic, I negotiated with the garage man that he accept the big reptile as part payment for the repairs. Surprisingly (or shrewdly) he accepted.

So, with some relief, though a little unsure of the wisdom of having been overly generous regarding what I since realise was a complete, rare and precious crocodile skin, I was able to continue my voyage to honour an important engagement for my initiation to skiing in Bolzano.
So the first of 'Italian souvenirs' (Bolzano) I hope to be able to post very soon.

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Text © Mirino (PW) October, 2009. 
Satellite image, with thanks to NASA and Wikimedia Commons