The passing of Bill Frindall, masterful statistician and trivia buff of cricket, has given followers of the sport cause for mourning. In addition to covering the staggering number of 350 Test matches, or thereabouts, he also published a vast array of books on the subject. How often would the reader come across his name associated with the Wisden Book of Cricket Records.
As current commentator and BBC cricket correspondent Jonathan Agnew is quoted in the the Independent (30 Jan 2009) as saying, Frindall was ‘immortalised by Brian Johnston, who called him “The Bearded Wonder” because you could throw any question at Bill.”
In a game where statistics remain sacrosanct, Frindall was the sovereign sage, a fixture of the legendary Test Match Special team. He will be missed.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Friday, January 9, 2009
Blago and Corruption in USA Inc.
Why all this fuss about corruption in Illinois? The outrage, it seems, lies not in its occurrence, but its discussion. So, Governor Blagojevich (“Blago”) of Illinois now finds himself facing an impeachment motion (recently passed) with numerous defenders, knee-deep in charges of corruption. While his behaviour may have pushed the legal envelope (oh the nerve, trying to sell Obama’s vacated senatorial seat for funding perks), it was hardly exceptional.
Those great souls in Congress are always happy to be rented (or bought?) by wealthier personalities, corporate or otherwise. Funding for seats and policies all levels of government in the American republic is nothing new. The political process lends itself to barter and bribery, or as they prefer to call it in USA, Inc., "pay-to-play". Keen moralists with brushes and brooms intent on cleaning up “Blago” and his creed ought to read lobbyist Robert N. Winter-Berger's Washington Pay-Off (1972). The problem goes far deeper than Illinois. For a brief discussion, see my piece in Scoop, January 9, 2009:
We Are All Corrupt Now: Blago and the American Republic
By Binoy Kampmark
What is to be made of the sordid little case of seat selling by Illinois governor Rod Blagojevich? Not much, judging from much reaction in the US. And those who do are treated like members of an outdated inquisition, hypocrites who guard a moral order long dead. The American republic occasionally reminds us that its politics is the perennial scrap of a crude plutocracy rather than the deliberations of truly accountable officials. This should come as little surprise to watchers in politics land who have witnessed that agent of change, Barack Obama, come to power on the back of a presidential election that cost $5.3 billion.
Selling a senatorial seat in such blatant fashion might outrage some because Blago has been rather exhibitionist about it. He decided to tell us, in rather clumsy fashion, that American politics was an emperor without clothes. These were probably lost as the new republic started shedding lustre in the late 19th century with its embrace of corrupt political machines. Such honesty in the trading of seats is, of course, treated as a sign of insanity. The blogosphere is alive with claims that Blago has lost his marbles. A defense of diminished capacity has been suggested.
Blagojevich might be a bad egg. But he is not an exceptional one from the battery hens of America’s political system. Some have even written his “pay-to-play” off as one of those cases of bargaining and positioning that comes with a political system that thrives on fundraising and favours. Consider this Zen-like prescription from the Centre for Responsive Politics: “Fundraising is not just a way that candidates demonstrate their viability: it’s a necessary task given the tremendous costs of running a campaign.” Did Blago, in short, purport to “sell” Obama’s vacated seat, not for self-enrichment, but fundraising? The jury is still out on that one.
In any case, senators, representatives, and their seats, have been up for sale for decades. Votes are infinitely buyable. Remember, wrote Gore Vidal in 1973, the Kennedy relation who left a bag full of money at a barber’s to be divvied amongst “the honest yeomen of West Virginia in exchange for their support of the family’s candidate.” When the briber is Boeing or General Electric, or a private donor from the Forbes rich list, the electorate approves or at the very least remains reticent. A superficial sense of decorum is maintained, and the electors can go about getting even less for their now rather ravaged dollar.
The recent theatrical installment – the appearance of Blagojevich appointee Roland Burris, who has sought to claim Obama’s seat as junior senator from Illinois – takes the saga further. Burris was duly rejected by the secretary of the Senate, though a series of steps have been suggested to bring him into the fold. Under pressure from Obama, Harry Reid has relented. Another seat, incidentally, also remains vacant – that from Minnesota. The issue there is an election dispute. The 111th Congress remains two members short.
There is even a sense of outrage by some commentators that people should care about purported corruption in the topsy-turvy world of Illinois politics. (What is first in the news? The strafing of the Gaza Strip or the auction of vacant Senate seats?) Veteran newsreader Jim Lehrer, and David Gregory of Meet the Press, see little problem in the world of “pay-to-play”. Punish Blago, and you punish the political system.
The quixotic governor is even delighting some commentators with his pluck. Ruben Navarrette of the San Diego Union-Tribune was thrilled by the governor’s “chutzpah” and ability to procure chaos. (Showing his viability, perhaps?) He was, after all, innocent till proven otherwise, a golden presumption yet to fall by the way side. “You have to admire someone so committed to his job that he won’t let a little thing like a prosecution interfere with doing it.”
Navarrette is right about one thing: there is little doubt that the Illinois governor is committed to his job. Blagojevich, to boot, has put Burris forth as a paragon of good race relations – the first African-American to be elected statewide in Illinois causing alarm to those trembling white males in the Democratic Party. Such material is grist to the mill of mythmaking.
Illinois’ Lt. Gov. Pat Quinn is upset that the state has become an “international laughing stock”. One can’t help thinking that he feels rather wounded that Blago is still there, resolutely blocking his own pathway to the governorship. American politics has been admired, to a greater or lesser extent, precisely for its satanic genius in treating public affairs as those of a business. Blago’s sin (or test of viability?) remains his candour, the inadvertent whistleblower run wild. His punishment will not, in itself, reform the state, let alone the republic. Publicly funded elections might, though that will result in the death of a creed long respected by the burghers of the United States.
Those great souls in Congress are always happy to be rented (or bought?) by wealthier personalities, corporate or otherwise. Funding for seats and policies all levels of government in the American republic is nothing new. The political process lends itself to barter and bribery, or as they prefer to call it in USA, Inc., "pay-to-play". Keen moralists with brushes and brooms intent on cleaning up “Blago” and his creed ought to read lobbyist Robert N. Winter-Berger's Washington Pay-Off (1972). The problem goes far deeper than Illinois. For a brief discussion, see my piece in Scoop, January 9, 2009:
We Are All Corrupt Now: Blago and the American Republic
By Binoy Kampmark
What is to be made of the sordid little case of seat selling by Illinois governor Rod Blagojevich? Not much, judging from much reaction in the US. And those who do are treated like members of an outdated inquisition, hypocrites who guard a moral order long dead. The American republic occasionally reminds us that its politics is the perennial scrap of a crude plutocracy rather than the deliberations of truly accountable officials. This should come as little surprise to watchers in politics land who have witnessed that agent of change, Barack Obama, come to power on the back of a presidential election that cost $5.3 billion.
Selling a senatorial seat in such blatant fashion might outrage some because Blago has been rather exhibitionist about it. He decided to tell us, in rather clumsy fashion, that American politics was an emperor without clothes. These were probably lost as the new republic started shedding lustre in the late 19th century with its embrace of corrupt political machines. Such honesty in the trading of seats is, of course, treated as a sign of insanity. The blogosphere is alive with claims that Blago has lost his marbles. A defense of diminished capacity has been suggested.
Blagojevich might be a bad egg. But he is not an exceptional one from the battery hens of America’s political system. Some have even written his “pay-to-play” off as one of those cases of bargaining and positioning that comes with a political system that thrives on fundraising and favours. Consider this Zen-like prescription from the Centre for Responsive Politics: “Fundraising is not just a way that candidates demonstrate their viability: it’s a necessary task given the tremendous costs of running a campaign.” Did Blago, in short, purport to “sell” Obama’s vacated seat, not for self-enrichment, but fundraising? The jury is still out on that one.
In any case, senators, representatives, and their seats, have been up for sale for decades. Votes are infinitely buyable. Remember, wrote Gore Vidal in 1973, the Kennedy relation who left a bag full of money at a barber’s to be divvied amongst “the honest yeomen of West Virginia in exchange for their support of the family’s candidate.” When the briber is Boeing or General Electric, or a private donor from the Forbes rich list, the electorate approves or at the very least remains reticent. A superficial sense of decorum is maintained, and the electors can go about getting even less for their now rather ravaged dollar.
The recent theatrical installment – the appearance of Blagojevich appointee Roland Burris, who has sought to claim Obama’s seat as junior senator from Illinois – takes the saga further. Burris was duly rejected by the secretary of the Senate, though a series of steps have been suggested to bring him into the fold. Under pressure from Obama, Harry Reid has relented. Another seat, incidentally, also remains vacant – that from Minnesota. The issue there is an election dispute. The 111th Congress remains two members short.
There is even a sense of outrage by some commentators that people should care about purported corruption in the topsy-turvy world of Illinois politics. (What is first in the news? The strafing of the Gaza Strip or the auction of vacant Senate seats?) Veteran newsreader Jim Lehrer, and David Gregory of Meet the Press, see little problem in the world of “pay-to-play”. Punish Blago, and you punish the political system.
The quixotic governor is even delighting some commentators with his pluck. Ruben Navarrette of the San Diego Union-Tribune was thrilled by the governor’s “chutzpah” and ability to procure chaos. (Showing his viability, perhaps?) He was, after all, innocent till proven otherwise, a golden presumption yet to fall by the way side. “You have to admire someone so committed to his job that he won’t let a little thing like a prosecution interfere with doing it.”
Navarrette is right about one thing: there is little doubt that the Illinois governor is committed to his job. Blagojevich, to boot, has put Burris forth as a paragon of good race relations – the first African-American to be elected statewide in Illinois causing alarm to those trembling white males in the Democratic Party. Such material is grist to the mill of mythmaking.
Illinois’ Lt. Gov. Pat Quinn is upset that the state has become an “international laughing stock”. One can’t help thinking that he feels rather wounded that Blago is still there, resolutely blocking his own pathway to the governorship. American politics has been admired, to a greater or lesser extent, precisely for its satanic genius in treating public affairs as those of a business. Blago’s sin (or test of viability?) remains his candour, the inadvertent whistleblower run wild. His punishment will not, in itself, reform the state, let alone the republic. Publicly funded elections might, though that will result in the death of a creed long respected by the burghers of the United States.
The Bagosora Case
The case law on the subject of punishing crimes against humanity received an important addition last month. The convictions of Colonels Théoneste Bagosora and Anatole Nsengiyumva along with Major Aloys Ntabakuze by the International Criminal Tribunal of Rwanda for genocide and crimes against humanity are historic. A discussion about the significance of the trial can be found at Facts and Arts, December 19, 2008:
Punishing Genocide: The Bagosora Case
By Binoy Kampmark
It was considered a huge step towards the attainment of international justice. Perhaps in time, this week's convictions of Bagosora, Ntabakuze and Nsengiyumva of the International Criminal Tribunal of Rwanda will come to sit alongside an assortment of other historic decisions as essential judicial acts. It may well come to be seen as one of the most important decisions since the Nuremberg verdicts of the late 1940s.
The tribunal noted through the somber tones of the Norwegian presiding judge Erik Møse that Colonel Théoneste Bagosora, as the highest authority in the Rwandan Ministry of Defence, was responsible for the murder of Prime Minister Agathe Uwilingiyimana and a host of fellow officials that warned the globe that a final Tutsi solution was being implemented. For that much, he received a life sentence for genocide, crimes against humanity and war crimes.
Bagosora had been in a position of control as chief official within the ministry, being the powerful Director of Cabinet. The trail of culpability also extended to the murder of ten Belgian peacekeepers, all of whom were disarmed before being massacred. The critical participation of the army at all stages of the genocide was also noted as an important factor.
Life sentences were also meted out to Major Aloys Ntabakuze, commander of the Para Commando Battalion, and Colonel Anatole Nsengiyumva, commander of the Operational Sector of Gisenyi. General Gratien Kabiligi, head of the military operations bureau (G-3) was the only figure to be acquitted, having had a secure alibi as the massacres were taking place. Ntabakuze had rampaged through Kabeza, Nyanza Hill and Kigali at the helm of his elite battalion, while Nsengiyumva set to work in parishes and universities. Both had showed a distaste for the Tutsi academics and the mandarin officials to be found at Mudende University and the L'Institut Africain et Mauricien de Statistiques et d'Economie.
The decision has been a long time in coming, which may have raised a few questions for various advocates (justice delayed is often justice denied). Proceedings commenced in April 2002 and were disrupted by the retirement of a judge and the non-reelection of another. The trial had to be renewed in another chamber in June 2003 with a revised bench. When it was finished, much paper had been expended (30,000 pages of transcripts plus 4,500 pages of final submissions). The decision itself is daunting, running into hundreds of pages.
When one has finished digesting the enormity of it, a few key points will be taken away. The cornerstone of the decisions was the feature of control. Bagosora and Kabiligi cited the familiar defense that neither had actual authority over a rampant military. Spontaneity, they argued, was order of the day. The desire for Hutu revenge was innate and impossible to stifle.
The defense worked in part for Kabiligi, but it was hardly the case for the enterprising directeur de cabinet. Bagosora had himself spoken as early as 1992 of preparations for an impending "apocalypse" against the Tutsis. But the jurists were even more convinced that the murders leading to the genocide "formed part of an organized military operation pursuant to orders from superior military authorities."
Given the often insurmountable difficulties that present themselves to jurists and lawyers seeking the convictions of high officials for massive crimes, the decision will come as a relief. It did not set new law - it merely reaffirmed the premise that those in authority can never plead a blanket immunity before the international community.
Punishing Genocide: The Bagosora Case
By Binoy Kampmark
It was considered a huge step towards the attainment of international justice. Perhaps in time, this week's convictions of Bagosora, Ntabakuze and Nsengiyumva of the International Criminal Tribunal of Rwanda will come to sit alongside an assortment of other historic decisions as essential judicial acts. It may well come to be seen as one of the most important decisions since the Nuremberg verdicts of the late 1940s.
The tribunal noted through the somber tones of the Norwegian presiding judge Erik Møse that Colonel Théoneste Bagosora, as the highest authority in the Rwandan Ministry of Defence, was responsible for the murder of Prime Minister Agathe Uwilingiyimana and a host of fellow officials that warned the globe that a final Tutsi solution was being implemented. For that much, he received a life sentence for genocide, crimes against humanity and war crimes.
Bagosora had been in a position of control as chief official within the ministry, being the powerful Director of Cabinet. The trail of culpability also extended to the murder of ten Belgian peacekeepers, all of whom were disarmed before being massacred. The critical participation of the army at all stages of the genocide was also noted as an important factor.
Life sentences were also meted out to Major Aloys Ntabakuze, commander of the Para Commando Battalion, and Colonel Anatole Nsengiyumva, commander of the Operational Sector of Gisenyi. General Gratien Kabiligi, head of the military operations bureau (G-3) was the only figure to be acquitted, having had a secure alibi as the massacres were taking place. Ntabakuze had rampaged through Kabeza, Nyanza Hill and Kigali at the helm of his elite battalion, while Nsengiyumva set to work in parishes and universities. Both had showed a distaste for the Tutsi academics and the mandarin officials to be found at Mudende University and the L'Institut Africain et Mauricien de Statistiques et d'Economie.
The decision has been a long time in coming, which may have raised a few questions for various advocates (justice delayed is often justice denied). Proceedings commenced in April 2002 and were disrupted by the retirement of a judge and the non-reelection of another. The trial had to be renewed in another chamber in June 2003 with a revised bench. When it was finished, much paper had been expended (30,000 pages of transcripts plus 4,500 pages of final submissions). The decision itself is daunting, running into hundreds of pages.
When one has finished digesting the enormity of it, a few key points will be taken away. The cornerstone of the decisions was the feature of control. Bagosora and Kabiligi cited the familiar defense that neither had actual authority over a rampant military. Spontaneity, they argued, was order of the day. The desire for Hutu revenge was innate and impossible to stifle.
The defense worked in part for Kabiligi, but it was hardly the case for the enterprising directeur de cabinet. Bagosora had himself spoken as early as 1992 of preparations for an impending "apocalypse" against the Tutsis. But the jurists were even more convinced that the murders leading to the genocide "formed part of an organized military operation pursuant to orders from superior military authorities."
Given the often insurmountable difficulties that present themselves to jurists and lawyers seeking the convictions of high officials for massive crimes, the decision will come as a relief. It did not set new law - it merely reaffirmed the premise that those in authority can never plead a blanket immunity before the international community.
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