Irfan Husain in The Dawn
SCHADENFREUDE is a wonderful German word used to express mirth at somebody else’s woes, just as Charlie Chaplin used to giggle when a passerby slipped on a banana peel and fell on his backside.
This is how the world currently feels towards Saudi Arabia’s Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman (or, as he likes to be called, MBS) as he wriggles in the spotlight following Jamal Khashoggi’s brutal murder. Riyadh’s early denials caused only open derision and disbelief among even supporters of the kingdom.
The problem with one person wielding absolute power and control is that when something goes badly wrong, it becomes hard to pretend he knew nothing about it. So when all we got from Riyadh for the first fortnight were blanket denials about any knowledge or responsibility for the gruesome events in its consulate in Istanbul, we responded with hoots of open incredulity.
Recently, the Saudi government released a chilling photograph of Jamal Khashoggi’s son, Salah, shaking hands with MBS while King Salman stands beaming in the background. Salah is clearly grief-stricken, while MBS has a cold, hard expression. Khashoggi’s son had been under a travel ban for a year.
While Turkey’s President Erdogan has been piling on the pressure, few expect King Salman to sideline his favourite son anytime soon. The best that can be expected is for him to be relieved of some of the portfolios he has accumulated.
Ever since Khashoggi’s assassination made headlines around the world three weeks ago, the story has completely monopolised the 24/7 news cycle. Apart from the shock and horror over the sickening nature of the crime, journalists and politicians alike saw an opportunity to flay the ruling family of what is widely seen as a rotten kingdom.
Turkish intelligence sources have revealed that the audio tape they possess of the torture Khashoggi suffered includes a segment that indicates that his fingers were chopped off while he was still alive. This, apparently, was the reason a bone saw was part of the Saudi hit-squad’s kit, and this savage amputation was intended to send out a signal to other dissidents who dared to use their fingers to write against the crown prince. Apparently, in backward tribal societies, any offending organ is hacked off to teach everybody a lesson.
Given the massive fallout from the crime, why did the Saudis think they would get away with it? The bumbling antics of the killers to cover their tracks would not have fooled Inspector Clouseau of Pink Panther fame. We had a joker who pretended to be Khashoggi walk out of the consulate in the journalist’s clothing, but wearing joggers instead of the black leather shoes Khashoggi actually wore as he entered the consulate.
The reason MBS and his inner circle went ahead with their ham-fisted plot was that they didn’t think their cover-up would be questioned. Used to eliminating domestic opponents without having to justify themselves to anybody, they genuinely thought the rest of the world was an equally lawless zone. Also, MBS — and Saudi money — had been welcomed with open arms around the globe, so he probably thought his actions, no matter how grotesque, would be swallowed.
But three weeks later, the furore continues unabated despite the hundreds of millions of dollars the kingdom has spent on public relations. Even Republican senators who once supported Riyadh without reservations have been revolted at Khashoggi’s murder. One threatened to “sanction the hell out of Saudi Arabia”.
All this bad publicity has taken the sheen off the grand investment conference in Riyadh dubbed ‘Davos in the desert’. Many important political figures from the US, the UK and France bailed out, while key business leaders decided to stay at home. The reality is that MBS is currently toxic, and nobody wants to be associated with him.
It is ironic that tens of thousands of Yemeni lives failed to achieve what one journalist’s death did: call the world’s attention to a cruel, repressive regime that has no respect for human rights. In death, Khashoggi did what all his Washington Post columns could not: shine a revealing spotlight on MBS and his nasty, wilful ways.
But at the end of the day, money talks and bulls---t walks. Although Germany has blocked future arms sales, the US and the UK have no such sanctions in mind. In fact, Trump has clearly said that Saudi arms sales are too important to forego. Western greed is what MBS is counting on. For well over seven decades, US-Saudi relations have been built on the sale of oil and arms, and despite global revulsion over Khashoggi’s killing, politicians and arms manufacturers have little shame or morality.
So after a few weeks, it will probably be business as usual.
Saturday, 27 October 2018
Friday, 26 October 2018
We don’t want billionaires’ charity. We want them to pay their taxes
Owen Jones in The Guardian
Charity is a cold, grey loveless thing. If a rich man wants to help the poor, he should pay his taxes gladly, not dole out money at a whim.” It is a phrase commonly ascribed to Clement Attlee – the credit actually belongs to his biographer, Francis Beckett – but it elegantly sums up the case for progressive taxation. According to a report by the Swiss bank UBS, last year billionaires made more money than any other point in the history of human civilisation. Their wealth jumped by a fifth – a staggering $8.9tn – and 179 new billionaires joined an exclusive cabal of 2,158. Some have signed up to Giving Pledge, committing to leave half their wealth to charity. While the richest man on earth, Jeff Bezos – who has $146bn to his name – has not, he has committed £2bn to tackling homelessness and improving education.
Who can begrudge the generosity of the wealthy, you might say. Wherever you stand on the concentration of wealth and power in the hands of a tiny global elite, surely such charity should be applauded? But philanthropy is a dangerous substitution for progressive taxation. Consider Bono, a man who gained a reputation for ceaselessly campaigning for the world’s neediest. Except his band, U2, moved their tax affairs from Ireland to the Netherlandsin 2006 in order to avoid tax. Bono himself appeared in the Paradise Papers – a huge set of documents exposing offshore investments by the wealthy – after he invested in a company based in Malta that bought a Lithuanian firm. This behaviour is legal: Bono himself said of U2’s affairs it was “just some smart people we have … trying to be sensible about the way we’re taxed”.
And he’s right: rich people and major corporations have the means to legally avoid tax. It’s estimated that global losses from multinational corporations shifting their profits are about $500bn a year, while cash stashed in tax havens is worth at least 10% of the world’s economy. It is the world’s poorest who suffer the consequences. Philanthropy, then, is a means of making the uber rich look generous, while they save far more money through exploiting loopholes and using tax havens.
The trouble with charitable billionaires
There’s another issue, too. The decision on how philanthropic money is spent is made on the whims and personal interests of the wealthy, rather than what is best. In the US, for example, only 12% of philanthropic money went to human services: it was more likely be spent on arts and higher education. Those choosing where the money goes are often highly unrepresentative of the broader population, and thus more likely to be out of touch with their needs. In the US, 85% of charitable foundation board members are white, and just 7% are African Americans. Money raised by progressive taxation, on the other hand, is spent by democratically accountable governments that have to justify their priorities, which are far more likely to relate to social need.
What is striking is that even as the rich get richer, they are spending less on charity, while the poor give a higher percentage of their income to good causes. That the world’s eight richest people have as much wealth as the poorest half of humanity is a damning indictment of our entire social order. The answer to that is not self-serving philanthropy, which makes a wealthy elite determined to put vast fortunes out of reach of the authorities look good. We need global tax justice, not charitable scraps dictated by the fancies of the elite.
Charity is a cold, grey loveless thing. If a rich man wants to help the poor, he should pay his taxes gladly, not dole out money at a whim.” It is a phrase commonly ascribed to Clement Attlee – the credit actually belongs to his biographer, Francis Beckett – but it elegantly sums up the case for progressive taxation. According to a report by the Swiss bank UBS, last year billionaires made more money than any other point in the history of human civilisation. Their wealth jumped by a fifth – a staggering $8.9tn – and 179 new billionaires joined an exclusive cabal of 2,158. Some have signed up to Giving Pledge, committing to leave half their wealth to charity. While the richest man on earth, Jeff Bezos – who has $146bn to his name – has not, he has committed £2bn to tackling homelessness and improving education.
Who can begrudge the generosity of the wealthy, you might say. Wherever you stand on the concentration of wealth and power in the hands of a tiny global elite, surely such charity should be applauded? But philanthropy is a dangerous substitution for progressive taxation. Consider Bono, a man who gained a reputation for ceaselessly campaigning for the world’s neediest. Except his band, U2, moved their tax affairs from Ireland to the Netherlandsin 2006 in order to avoid tax. Bono himself appeared in the Paradise Papers – a huge set of documents exposing offshore investments by the wealthy – after he invested in a company based in Malta that bought a Lithuanian firm. This behaviour is legal: Bono himself said of U2’s affairs it was “just some smart people we have … trying to be sensible about the way we’re taxed”.
And he’s right: rich people and major corporations have the means to legally avoid tax. It’s estimated that global losses from multinational corporations shifting their profits are about $500bn a year, while cash stashed in tax havens is worth at least 10% of the world’s economy. It is the world’s poorest who suffer the consequences. Philanthropy, then, is a means of making the uber rich look generous, while they save far more money through exploiting loopholes and using tax havens.
The trouble with charitable billionaires
There’s another issue, too. The decision on how philanthropic money is spent is made on the whims and personal interests of the wealthy, rather than what is best. In the US, for example, only 12% of philanthropic money went to human services: it was more likely be spent on arts and higher education. Those choosing where the money goes are often highly unrepresentative of the broader population, and thus more likely to be out of touch with their needs. In the US, 85% of charitable foundation board members are white, and just 7% are African Americans. Money raised by progressive taxation, on the other hand, is spent by democratically accountable governments that have to justify their priorities, which are far more likely to relate to social need.
What is striking is that even as the rich get richer, they are spending less on charity, while the poor give a higher percentage of their income to good causes. That the world’s eight richest people have as much wealth as the poorest half of humanity is a damning indictment of our entire social order. The answer to that is not self-serving philanthropy, which makes a wealthy elite determined to put vast fortunes out of reach of the authorities look good. We need global tax justice, not charitable scraps dictated by the fancies of the elite.
Wednesday, 24 October 2018
Monday, 22 October 2018
On Sabarimala - Why are rational, scientific women upset?
By Girish Menon
“I do not wish to join any club that will accept me as a
member” quipped Groucho Marx once. I will pass on this wisdom to women of
menstruating age whose efforts to enter Sabarimala have been stopped by their
own sisters, male priests and political activists.
In essence the Indian Supreme Court has decided in favour of
allowing all women to worship at Sabarimala as failing to do so could be
interpreted as discriminatory and in violation of every Indian’s fundamental
right to equality guaranteed by the constitution.
The recent violence is testimony to the failure of the
Indian state as it could not ensure protection to those women who wished to
worship at Sabarimala. This is a replay of Ayodhya 1992 when a mob destroyed
the Babri Masjid in violation of court strictures.
I have read reports that those opposed to the Supreme Court
verdict in the Sabarimala case have now filed an appeal with the Supreme Court.
This is a welcome move and should have been the first step in their protests
instead of physically stopping women from entering the temple.
In a democracy the legislature is superior to the courts. So
it should have been up to the political activists to pass legislation that
suits their political views. However, such legislation will always be of
secondary status to the fundamental rights of every Indian which can only be
curtailed under special circumstances, if at all.
Tradition
Tradition has been quoted as the main argument to defend the
practices of Sabarimala. Leaders of most denominations use this argument to
protest against demands for reforms. This argument gains most momentum because
of the historical failure to pass a uniform civil code bill that applies to
every Indian uniformly.
In the case of Hindus, The Paliyam Satyagraha in Chendamangalam
in 1947-48 enabled a break with tradition as lower caste Hindus were hereafter allowed
to enter temples. Thus tradition is only a convenient term to fight against
reform and modernity.
Uniting all Hindus
The demographic changes in India
In the book The Global Minotaur the author Yanis Varoufakis
defines the term aporia
–
that state of
intense puzzlement in which we find
ourselves when our certainties fall to pieces ; when suddenly we get caught in
an impasse, at a loss to explain what our eyes can see, our fingers can touch,
our ears can hear. At those rare moments, as our reason valiantly struggles to
fathom what the senses are reporting, our aporia humbles us and readies the
prepared mind for previously unbearable truths.
For Indians the moment of aporia has arrived. Now maybe the best time to introduce the
uniform civil code and ban religious conversions. Else the charge of India
On the other hand, why would modern, rational women with a
scientific bent of mind and a claim that ‘God does not exist’ fight for rights
to worship Ayyappa is something that I have found hard to understand.
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