Chas Newkey-Burden's Blog, page 9

The point(s) of no return…

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This is a guest post from David Patrikarakos

Iran’s nuclear bomb is “entering its final stages”, according to an article in the respected defence magazine Jane’s Weekly. Written in 1984. A claim that, to be fair, was only 29 years premature and counting.

Alarmist predictions of Iran’s nuclear capabilities have been in circulation for almost thirty years; I have lost count of the number of times Israel has told us that Iran’s nuclear programme is on the brink of the point of no return. Each time a deadline passes they simply set a new one.

For instance, in 1992 Israel warned that Iran would have a nuclear bomb by 1999. In 1999 Israel claimed that Iran would be nuclear-armed by 2004. In 2009 Israel said Iran would pass the point of no return in 2011. Then, in 2012 Israel stated Iran was six months from a nuclear bomb. On and on it goes. (For an extensive list of such announcements, see here.)

Why has this been such an obsession for the last 30 years? Well, first of all, 30 years tells its own story. This is pretty much the time the Islamic Republic has been in existence (it was founded in 1979 when Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini came to power after he helped to overthrow Iran’s Shah, Mohammad Reza Pahlavi).

During the Shah’s rule the USA was content to be a partner in Iran’s nuclear programme – though it was always adamant that the Shah steer clear of nuclear weapons and objected to selling Iran technologies that might be used to proliferate. Despite what is often said, Washington has been consistent on this issue from the very beginning.

But the coming of the Islamic Republic – and more specifically, the 1979-1980 Hostage Crisis, a disgraceful act where a group of Iranian students stormed the US Embassy and took those inside hostage for 444 days – convinced Washington that the Mullahs could not be trusted with nuclear technology. This change in Iranian leadership fuelled fears that Iran was driving toward a bomb that have never abated.

These fears are at the centre of overarching attitudes toward Iran’s nuclear programme, and drive much of what is written about it, especially the deluge of erroneous predictions about Iranian nuclear capability. Consider first that until 2002 (when an Iranian opposition group revealed the extent of Iran’s nuclear activities to the world) it was hard to say just how much progress Iran had made on its programme. For most of the 1980s the country was at war with Iraq and employed a covert, underground nuclear programme. In the absence of certainty, many in Jerusalem and Washington preferred to assume an Iranian bomb was nearer rather than further away; it seemed the safe thing to do.

Then there is the political reason for such claims. Israeli intelligence has had a pretty clear of idea of where Iran is technologically for at least the last 15 years, but the goal is to keep the pressure on the USA and nothing suits this better than repeatedly claiming that Iran is only a few years away from a bomb. Even if they know it’s not true, the message is clear: time is of the essence – act now!

The problem of course is that you can only cry wolf so many times. But it is a problem that comes wrapped in an irony because guess what? Iran is now, finally, at the stage where it could conceivably build a bomb in just a few years…

Follow David on Twitter

Read more about his book, Nuclear Iran: UK readers here, US readers here

Read his latest essay, a cover story in a recent issue of New Statesman, here.

Books at the bar

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I was meeting my friend Hardeep for a Nando’s tonight.

I took along a copy of my latest Arsenal book, which he wanted to give to his brother-in-law, and a copy of my Adele book, which he wanted to give to his wife.

I stopped for a drink on the way there. A very drunken guy at the bar leaned over to ask what my books were. He looked at the Arsenal one, and I told him I wrote it.

“Bollocks you did!” he spat.

He then looked at the Adele one.

“I suppose now you’ll tell me you wrote this one, n’all!” he exclaimed.

I told him I did.

“Are you faking shitting me, ya c*nt?” he enquired.

I asked him what sort of things he liked reading.

“Books about c*nts what slice other c*nts,” he shouted. “You ever written any of them?”

I attempted my best placatory smile and retreated to Nando’s.

Gilad tells his story

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Since he was released by Hamas two years ago, Gilad Shalit has made a lot of public appearances but he’s spoken little about his experiences as a hostage in Gaza. Next week in London, an intimate documentary about him will be screened and I’ll be part of a panel discussion on the night.

In Gilad Shalit: The Interview, he speaks about his capture, his five years in captivity and how he is adjusting to freedom. He reveals some of his personal philosophies and looks on the funny side of the “infamous” shirt he was released in and the slightly bizarre Egyptian broadcaster who grilled him that day.

The Gilad in the film reminded me a lot of the thoughtful, quietly-witty Gilad I spent a day with in London earlier this year.

Made by Tal Goren, the film also goes behind the scenes with the Shalit family in the tense days and hours ahead of his release, following their preparations and documenting the extraordinary emotions they went through as they waited for him.

Gilad’s cousin Hemda invited me to watch the documentary with her at a screening in London last Monday, via a dinner of delightful cauliflower bagels and fresh mint tea at JW3.

I love how the documentary avoids the depressing tendency – which I wrote about in the Jewish Chronicle – to turn Gilad into a mere pawn in hasbara game. Instead, it approaches him and his family in a gentle, humane way. For instance, the interviewer asks Gilad’s mother Aviva if her son still smelt the same when she hugged him after his release.

It’s being shown in London again next Thursday. Come along, it’s a fascinating film about a deeply inspiring young man and his family. And come and say hi!

It’s a ‘ken’ from Cowell

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I smiled when I heard that Simon Cowell had donated $50,000 to the Friends of the IDF charity. I was pleased but not surprised. I’ve thought for a long time that Cowell and Israel have a lot in common.

When I researched my biography of him, the similarities kept occurring to me. Like Israel, Cowell is: loved and hated; successful to an extent that enrages the envious; disproportionately written about; much discussed but little understood; big in America.

He is also a bit like an Israeli: painfully blunt but surprisingly sweet underneath it all. Everyone I interviewed for my book told me what a lovely man he is behind the scenes. X Factor finalist Niki Evans probably put it best, she told me: ‘He’s a hard man with a heart, that’s what he is.’

I can only imagine how excited my dear friend, the beautiful Bristolian broad Julie Burchill, was when she heard about Cowell’s donation. When Julie and I co-wrote , we crowned Cowell our leading anti-hypocrite. During our semi-regular drinking sessions, some of which lasted as cripplingly long as 18 hours, our two most regular talking points were Israel and Simon Cowell. Both of us love both of them.

During one of these epic encounters, Julie predicted: ‘I believe that one day Simon Cowell will do something beautiful for Israel.’ You were right, Julie. But then you knew that already, didn’t you?

OMG, it’s OvG in the JC

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There’s a short piece by Charlotte Oliver in this week’s Jewish Chronicle about the Wizo dinner and my Commitment to Israel award.

Jerusalem on the *big* screen

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Oh Jerusalem, it took me a while to really get you, didn’t it?

The first time I went to Israel, in 2006, I didn’t even go to Jerusalem. But I remember, as we were on the move from the Dead Sea to Tel Aviv, our driver stopped on a hillside road to allow us to look over the capital. As I gazed at the city that I would not visit, I felt a bit like Moses in Deuteronomy – but without such a heroic backstory.

When I went back to Israel the following year, we sizzled for a few days in Jerusalem. We arrived on my birthday and had an astonishing experience touring the Old City with a very witty Arab guide. It was only when I got unexpectedly drunk that night that I realised how scary it felt to be in the city. I could hardly believe I was there. I think a part of me had always suspected that Jerusalem, which I had read so much about, was a mythical, rather than actual, place. Yet there it was and so was I.

During the rest of the trip we ate hummus in the Arab quarter, wept at Yad Vashem and felt inspired at the Menachem Begin Heritage Centre. I rode a camel called Salem, too. It was all very exciting but it felt intense and strange when compared with Tel Aviv.

The third time I went to the Holy Land, in February 2010, I bussed it to the capital for a day. My friend Tal and I walked through the Kotel tunnels and prayed at the wall itself. Then we went to the Mahane Yehuda market and I seemed to get barged out of the way wherever I turned. All day, everywhere I looked there was another hat signifying another religion. It felt like a spiritual tinderbox just waiting to blow into something astonishing. I wanted to stay forever and I wanted to escape to Tel Aviv. I escaped to Tel Aviv.

But when I returned to Israel five months later, I stayed in Jerusalem for two weeks, sleeping in the apartment of a Rehavia family. This proved significant. Perhaps you haven’t really visited a city until you’ve slept in someone’s home in a residential area.

Over those two weeks, I fell head over heels in love with Jerusalem. I stood on the Temple Mount, went to Friday night service at the Kol Rina Synagogue, ate with Gilad Shalit’s family at their protest tent and stayed up late at various bars. I found my emotional and navigational bearings in the city. I discovered that, if you know where and how to look, it isn’t quite so different to Tel Aviv as tourist book clichés, with their love of ‘contrasts’, would have you believe. Consequently, I made so many new friends that when, on my final night, I was queuing to buy some fruit at a local store, I bumped into three different people I knew.

National Geographic have made a film about my beloved which, judging by the trailer, could be stunning. They will be showing it at Imax and other giant cinemas. Some will screen it in 3D. I’ll have to check it out when it comes to the UK.

Official Trailer – Jerusalem: Filmed for IMAX and Giant Screen Theaters from JerusalemTheMovie on Vimeo.

Commitment to Israel

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I was presented with my Commitment To Israel award at the Wizo gala dinner in London last night. A belated goyish bar mitzvah! Thanks to Chris for supporting me in all I do, to Ilana for nominating me and to all who have read and supported OyVaGoy.

A bit of peace and quiet

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Quick, gather round — I’ve found the solution to the Israeli/Palestinian conflict. I do at least have an original suggestion toward that end, and that’s something that has proved just as elusive since 1948.

It’s a curious proposition, but it might just work: let’s make 2014 the year in which the world leaves the Israelis and Palestinians alone to resolve their differences.

I’m not suggesting we literally leave them to fight it out. Instead, I am suggesting that we allow them to discuss their differences, without us incessantly chipping in. For over 65 years the world has tried to solve this dispute and the only thing everyone can agree on is that the world has failed.

Little wonder — just look at the kind of people who stick their noses in. There are politicians whose primary motivation seems to be to distract their constituents from local concerns. Not on top of things in Bradford or Boston? Have a go at the Jews or posture against the Palestinians.

Then there are evangelical saviours, who wring their hands or wag their fingers as they wonder wistfully why we cannot just all get on better. What a novel idea!

We cannot forget the bored and boring activists, who fill their otherwise empty existences by trading boorish, well-worn arguments and always putting all of the blame for the stalemate on the opposing “side”.

Their hope is not so much to solve the conflict as to impose their own narrow ideology on the two peoples — all from the comfort of their Western living-rooms, of course. As Alan Dershowitz observed, they are more Palestinian than the Palestinians, or more Israeli than the Israelis. What use are they?

And whither those who have made a career out of meddling from afar? Were peace to break out in the Middle East, how would these professional campaigners pay their mortgages?

We all stand in a circle, from which we bark our own nugget of advice: boycott, withdraw, settle, negotiate, stand firm, defend, attack!

If I ever found myself in deep trouble, and any of the above rabble showed up offering to help, I think I would prefer to take my chances and go it alone. Few people make their best decisions when they are being yelled at.

So why don’t we give it a crack at leaving the Israelis and Palestinians to it? It’s the only thing we have yet to try.

The world would benefit either way. Politicians would be able to start repairing their own countries and communities. Activists would be able to clear out their attics, talk to their families and catch up with old friends. Evangelicals would have more time to strum their acoustic guitars and sing Kumbaya.

If I sound as though I’m only semi-serious, that is because I am. Too many have their egos, ideologies and careers invested in this one, relatively small, conflict to be able to leave it alone. But, in reflecting on whether our input is of use, we can at least test the sincerity of our commitment.

The wise Chabad rabbi Yisroel Lew once explained to me a simple way to understand whether your motivation to help someone is sincere or not. Imagine, as you go to help someone, that you suddenly realise they do not need you. Would you be pleased for them, or would you be disappointed you were denied your chance to help? If the latter, then your motivation was probably insincere.

We can apply this sincerity test to our own involvement. Unless we are sure our motives are sound and our contribution needed, let’s give Israelis and Palestinians some peace and quiet, so they can start working towards some peace and quiet of their own.

(This is my latest column for the Jewish Chronicle.)

Phil Chevron: the little Irish giant

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I was upset when I heard Philip Chevron died today. I’ve been a huge fan of his band, The Pogues, for 26 years, and I’ve seen them live dozens of times. But it was the example he set as a man that I admired most.

As a teenager, when it began to dawn on me that I’m gay, I lacked high-profile role models I could relate to. Gay culture and lifestyle, such as they were back then, seemed alien to me. I didn’t like Kylie and fashion, I liked punk rock and football.

Imagine my excitement, then, when I discovered that a member of one of my favourite bands, The Pogues, was gay – and he was a football fan. He seemed inherently and immediately heroic: if he could thrive as an openly gay man in a band like that, I felt, maybe I could be accepted in my world, too.

Ever the biographer in spirit, I began to research his life. One day, I stumbled upon a song he wrote before he joined The Pogues, called Under Clery’s Clock. The song, about anxiously waiting for a date in Dublin, covers familiar terrain at first.

Then, this happens…

Strange as it seems, all I want is to embrace by the streetlights, just like other lovers do without disgrace.

Well, try arguing with that. For such a gentle and slight Irishman, Phil sure knew how pack a punch with a single line. I felt humbled and inspired by his strength and simple eloquence.

My favourite part of every Pogues concert came when he sang his song Thousands Are Sailing. I’ve always loved Shane MacGowan’s rasping, rambling delivery, but when Phil sang this song, with his gentle, theatrical tones, everything seemed perfect. He was a sweet, small man singing with the strength of a giant.

Thousands… is a beautiful and haunting ballad about Irish immigrants to the United States. I must have listened to this song hundreds of times over the past 20 years. Yet some of its lyrical passages still hit me like I’m hearing them for the first time….

In Manhattan’s desert twilight

In the death of afternoon

We stepped hand in hand on Broadway

Like the first men on the moon

And The Blackbird broke the silence

As you whistled it so sweet

And in Brendan Behan’s footsteps

I danced up and down the street

Then we said goodnight to Broadway

Giving it our best regards

Tipped our hats to Mr Cohen

Dear old Times Square’s favourite bard

Then we raised a glass to JFK

And a dozen more besides

When I got back to my empty room

I suppose I must have cried

I was so thrilled when, one day, a magazine I wrote for received a letter from Phil about how much he enjoyed one of my articles about football. He said my article had inspired and comforted him. I could hardly believe it! I wrote back and we met up in London a few times and then I visited him at his home in Nottingham.

It was in the middle of summer and I remember how we laughed as we snuck into Nottingham Forest FC’s deserted stadium, and then sat in the empty ground for hours talking about football, music and the Hillsborough disaster, which Phil had witnessed first-hand. This was between the band’s break-up and subsequent reunion. I think he had mixed feelings about my incessant questions about The Pogues.

We lost touch over the years but I was glad to have known him. Realising how much he had gone through, coming out as a gay man in 1970s Ireland of all places, it was nice to be able to tell him in person how his example had inspired me and others.

A few members of the outer Pogue family have died over the years, including Joe Strummer and Kirsty MacColl. Phil is the first member of the band itself to pass away.

I’m sad he has gone. He was the little Irish giant who showed me the way.

(Here is the studio version of Thousands Are Sailing, with MacGowan on vocals. I can’t find a live version with Phil singing anywhere online.)

Boycott Israel, by Ari Lesser

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‘We’re not perfect but if you think we’re the worst, first take a look at the rest of the earth.’

This is a great video to share with anyone thinking of boycotting Israel…