Reclaim The Night

Before I get into this week’s topic, some background for context. A few weeks ago I was having coffee in my local cafe. I couldn’t help overhear two young women talking at the next table. One of them was expressing the level of fear she experiences whenever she is out alone for a run, a walk, or on her bike. She described the apprehension she feels that a man might randomly attack her. These attacks might be physical or verbal, actual or threatened, explicit or implied. Her natural reaction is to be extra vigilant about her personal safety, but there was also a sense of dread and exhaustion at having to navigate this constant threat, and in turn raises a risk of not pursuing her daily activities. It was a depressing reminder that women must feel the same way, every day, and the recent events in Ballarat were surely a prompt for this discussion.

In October 1980, I became a student at Leeds University. Newly arrived in the city from London, where I grew up, I think I was only vaguely aware of the infamous Yorkshire Ripper case. But soon after my first term started, a student was murdered not far from the University campus, and in an area where many students lived. Jacqueline Hill was deemed to be Peter Sutcliffe’s last victim (but probably not for the want of trying on his part, given his violent attacks on women are believed to have begun in the late 1960s). I was in the city centre on the night that the police confirmed that they had caught Sutcliffe, and the sense of public relief was palpable and understandable, if misplaced – because Sutcliffe was obviously a “maniac” and not like “normal” men.

During Sutcliffe’s campaign of violence and murderous attacks, women in Leeds had organised a series of marches known as Reclaim the Night, largely in response to police advice that women should not venture into public places alone at night. The marches were also designed to draw attention to issues of domestic violence, rape and other offences and injustices against women. They were part of the feminist debate around issues of the patriarchal society, misogyny, sexism and apparent double standards when it came to the police investigation into the Sutcliffe case.

I recall seeing some of the marches in Leeds, and there were even calls for a night-time curfew on men. A radical suggestion, and one I had some sympathy for, but it was obviously impractical and in some ways the wrong response. Calling for men to be off the streets is not so very different to cultures and religions demanding (and forcing) women to dress “modestly” in public in case they provoke men into a sexual or violent frenzy. Surely, men should be able to control themselves?

Sadly, it seems we still need to be constantly reminded of how vile, aggressive, threatening, intimidating and violent men are towards women, individually and collectively.

Next week: Sakamoto – Opus

 

 

Non-binary Politics?

Regular readers to this blog may have noticed the absence of new posts in the past few weeks. This silence is in large part due to other personal priorities. There is also an overwhelming sense that all is not well in the world, and it hardly seemed appropriate to add to the endless commentary and op-eds on current events.

As world leaders grapple with yet another breakout of ideological warfare, I can’t help being reminded of the Bush Doctrine, built on President George W’s edict that “if you are not with us, you are against us”.

Such binary perspectives overlook the fact that no dispute can be neatly categorised in stark, polarised terms. Yet on so many geopolitical and social issues, we are being forced into making “yes/no”, “either/or”, “left/right”, “A/B” decisions. Ironic, given that in many domains we are also being encouraged to adopt non-binary views!

Whatever happened to bipartisan politics, consensus building, or non-equivalence? Why are we being co-opted into taking unequivocal positions? Have we forgotten that two wrongs don’t make a right?

I’m trying to get more comfortable with ambiguity and ambivalence – especially when few things can be cast in purely “black or white” terms. In fact, the more we can say “it’s OK to be in the grey”, the better our public discourse should become.

Next time: The Mercurial Music of Calexico

 

More Cold War Nostalgia

I’ve written before about a lingering fascination for the Cold War. In recent weeks, I’ve been re-visiting Yorkshire TV’s 1978-80 spy drama “The Sandbaggers”. Only 20 episodes were produced (across three series), in large part because the creator and main writer, Ian Mackintosh (a former officer in the Royal Navy) disappeared, and in apparently mysterious circumstances.

Putting aside the occasional non-PC language, the series stands up today. The core geopolitical themes remain relevant (even down to names of the principal parties); the ongoing friction between the espionage industry and their political and bureaucratic bosses; the continued unease between ideological purity, political pragmatism and operational reality; and the paradox of the surveillance society in the pursuit of preserving our individual liberties and personal freedoms.

The scripts are taut, with no spare dialogue. We don’t need to see every step in the plot in order to follow the narrative. The characters are not particularly appealing, but we still manage to feel some empathy for them. And although the production does incorporate library footage for some external shots, there is enough location filming to make overseas sequences appear credible and authentic.

The series was filmed and set when the Cold War was still at its height. Since 1974, the Doomsday Clock had sat at 9 minutes to midnight; in 1980, it was back down to 7 minutes to midnight (the same as its post-war setting); and by 1981, it was just 4 minutes to midnight. By 1991, this trend had been reversed, in the wake of Glasnost and Perestroika in the former Soviet Union, and the fall of the Berlin Wall. Even China seemed to be opening up under the leadership of Deng Xiaoping.

Now, the Clock is showing less than 2 minutes to minute – and who knows what a similar scenario to the August 1914 “Month of Madness” could lead to in the theatre of nuclear war.

Next week: American Art Tour

Back in the USA

Happy Independence Day!!! This post has turned out to be quite timely, as I’ve just come back from a trip to the USA, following a hiatus of 4 years. Two weeks is hardly enough time for a full evaluation, and I spent most of the time in Colorado and New Mexico, with a few days in San Francisco at the end – but it was enough to gain a few significant impressions.

I hadn’t known what to expect, in a post-Trump, post-pandemic and post Roe vs Wade landscape. Nowhere on my (limited) itinerary would be considered MAGA territory, so it was difficult to get a balanced perspective. If anything, my experiences simply confirmed that America remains a complex, at times contradictory, and very often a deeply divided society. And, just like the Presidential electoral process, it remains perplexing to outsiders.

For example, I’d been advised to be aware of the fentanyl zombies, violent crime and the homeless camps on the streets of San Francisco. Even friends who are long-term residents of the city warned that the Downtown area around Union Square is “a bit rough”. Since I had planned to stay just south of Union Square, I must admit to some apprehension before I left Australia.

Another San Francisco resident I contacted before my trip had complained that: “[T]he news has done a number on San Francisco. While we have the same homeless problems as other large cities, it’s not as bad as it’s made out in the news. We are facing some impacts from companies buying at the height of the market and now backing out, which is why you are seeing some bankruptcies (and there will be [a] few more). But overall, the city is doing well.”

On the other hand, the guide on my day-long walking tour explained that of the 62 major cities in the USA, San Francisco is the slowest in recovering from the disruption of the pandemic. They also felt that California, and San Francisco in particular, had not done a very good job of implementing the legalisation of recreational cannabis use in the State. Since even legal businesses are having problems getting banked, all that cash in the system is a target for criminal activity.

In the event, my stay in San Francisco passed without incident. Yes, there was plenty of evidence of homelessness, drug and mental health issues, and that’s without having to venture into the Tenderloin district. However, there were also plenty of domestic and overseas tourists visiting the city. True, the main business district felt much quieter than on my previous visits, as people continue working from home –  some companies have moved out and shops have closed down as a result. But elsewhere, the city felt normal, with people in their local neighbourhoods going about about their daily routines. I was surprised to see so many people wearing face masks, but given there were a number of public testing facilities still operating in parts of the city it suggests that COVID is still prevalent.

Prior to San Francisco, I had spent time in Denver, Boulder and Santa Fe. Admittedly I was there on a weekend, but Denver‘s Downtown area felt very quiet and hollowed out. Even the 16th Street Mall lacked vibrancy (maybe the major street works were a factor?), although there were more signs of life around the River North Arts District, Coors Field and of course Ball Arena as the Denver Nuggets took out their first NBA title.

The City of Boulder is a curious blend of old (gold rush) money, new (tech-flavoured) money, progressive politics (rainbow flags everywhere) and counter-culture lifestyles (“do you want CBD sprinkles on your espresso?”). I was treated to a ticket to see ’90s country star, Mary Chapin Carpenter playing at the historic Chautauqua Auditorium – an artist experiencing something of a comeback, and who manages to express liberal and inclusive values via a very conservative musical format. The support act was a musician whom I’d never heard of before, and who sang with a typical American country music twang – but when she spoke, she revealed herself to be Australian, and promptly played a song about the Melbourne streets of Fitzroy and Collingwood (this was also the song that was adapted as the theme to the “Wallender” TV series…). Separately, I was invited to dinner at Flagstaff House, one of Boulder’s best restaurants (with spectacular views). As a bonus, Boulder’s Pearl Street hosts an excellent record store, a couple of decent book shops, and cafes where it’s possible to get both a coffee and glass of wine at 5pm…

Higher up and further south, Santa Fe was something of a revelation. Not knowing what to expect, I thoroughly enjoyed my few days there: from a walking tour of the historic town centre, to sampling the wines of Gruet and D.H.Lescombes; from the numerous art galleries and museums to the Sunset Serenade of the Sky Railway; from the adobe-inspired architecture to the excellent food served everywhere. I learned more about American history in the 3-hour guided tour than a whole year of history lessons at my high school in England. The latter had largely focused on the events leading up to the American War of Independence (and taught mainly from a British perspective, of course). Whereas the contemporary walking tour provided a longer and more complex narrative that covered the key phases of New Mexico’s history: First Nation settlement, Spanish conquest, US annexation, Civil War intervention, and finally Statehood in 1912. Oh, and the plot to assassinate Trotsky and the nuclear tests of the Manhattan Project along the way. (NB – the Santa Fe tourism app was an invaluable guide to planning my itinerary.)

As much as I enjoy spending time in America, I can’t help observing that for what is ostensibly a secular country, religion plays a dominant, and at times domineering, role in political and public affairs – starting with the Federal motto of “In God We Trust”. I can’t understand why a Constitution and Bill of Rights that dis-established the Anglican Church (thereby separating Church from State), and which enshrine both the right to practice a religion and the freedom to adhere to no religion, has allowed certain religious tenets to impinge upon the rights and freedoms of others. A century ago it was the Temperance movement, more recently it was the Pro-Life camp, and now a range of issues (human evolution, flat earthers, gender diversity, sexual orientation, critical race theory, etc.) have many conservatives and fundamentalists working in league to dictate the public debate and constrain freedom of expression on such topics – meanwhile, it seems impossible to have a reasoned and mature discussion about gun control in the USA. Go figure!

Next week: Music streaming is so passé…