This was published in today's Independent.
If a parent cut off their 6 year old daughter’s arm they’d be arrested for child abuse. “Cultural” reasons would not constitute a defence. Yet, girls are having their vaginas mutilated everyday in this country, with impunity.
Anyone (with or without a vagina), watching Channel 4’s documentary about Female Genital Mutilation (FGM), will have squirmed in their seats on Wednesday night. That’s the point. Change doesn’t happen in comfort zones. The programme followed the inspired campaign of the Daughters of Eve, many of whom are survivors of FGM.
There were moments of hilarity (the resplendent vagina booth in central London), hope (young British Somali men once defending the “tradition”, denouncing it as barbaric) and, despair. Women recounting graphic details of the cutting process, as well as the emotional and physical scars that are indelible.
It’s estimated that more than 20,000 girls in the UK are at risk of FGM. Despite being classed as a serious criminal offence in the UK since 1985, there have been no prosecutions. This highlights a marked disparity with France where there have been 100. A recent NSPCC survey also revealed that 1 in 6 teachers weren’t aware that FGM is illegal and didn’t consider it to be child abuse.
Nimko Ali, one of the co-founders of Daughters of Eve told me she is bent on changing these statistics. When she was 7 years old she was taken overseas during school holidays to be cut. When she returned she confided in her teacher, who ignored her cry for help.
The FGM campaign is calling for a joined up political approach. They want the police, social workers, teachers and medical practitioners to have mandatory FGM awareness training. For example, in France, hospitals routinely check children admitted from “high risk communities” for FGM and a reporting system is in place. This makes it easier to record and prosecute FGM, which is the ultimate deterrent.
Since making the programme, Nimko has met with Jeremy Hunt. It seems he has committed to putting similar procedures in place here in the UK. Theresa May has made analogous noises at the home office. The pugnacious Michael (the child hater) Gove, however, refuses to make FGM mandatory in child protection. There’s a surprise.
FGM is gender-based violence. It perpetuates inequities between men and women and compromises the health and dignity of its victims. It is also child abuse and illegal. Prosecutions are unlikely to happen without multi agency training. That requires government investment and commitment. Anything less just won’t cut it.
Friday, 8 November 2013
Sunday, 3 November 2013
The Feminist Times Launch Party!
These are exciting times. When Charlotte Raven launched The Feminist Times just weeks ago, she asked the question “Where are all the interesting women”? Three dimensional women whose appetite for political rigour & gender scrutiny isn’t sated by Vanity Fair.
At the launch of The Feminist Times membership party last night, I had the pleasure of tracking down a number of interesting women, as well as men, who were keen to declare their feminist credentials. Being in north London you’d expect a broad constituency in terms of diversity. Feminists came from far & wide, of all ages & classes, to have three dimensional conversations. Some were funny, some were intellectuals, some were inspiring.
Amongst the many interesting people I met last night (hovering around the "bar" in Charlotte's kitchen), the young women from The Daughters of Eve deserve a special mention. They’ve made an incredibly powerful documentary about female genital mutilation (FGM). It’s to be aired on Channel 4 on Wed night at 10.45 pm. They set out to challenge our stereotypes about what’s culturally acceptable & are filmed putting our ministers on the spot. It’s disheartening to hear that, despite the evidence to suggest FGM is rampant in this country, Michael Gove (Secretary of State for Education) refuses to include it as a mandatory part of safeguarding in schools training.
I wish Charlotte & all the team at The Feminist Times every success.
At the launch of The Feminist Times membership party last night, I had the pleasure of tracking down a number of interesting women, as well as men, who were keen to declare their feminist credentials. Being in north London you’d expect a broad constituency in terms of diversity. Feminists came from far & wide, of all ages & classes, to have three dimensional conversations. Some were funny, some were intellectuals, some were inspiring.
Amongst the many interesting people I met last night (hovering around the "bar" in Charlotte's kitchen), the young women from The Daughters of Eve deserve a special mention. They’ve made an incredibly powerful documentary about female genital mutilation (FGM). It’s to be aired on Channel 4 on Wed night at 10.45 pm. They set out to challenge our stereotypes about what’s culturally acceptable & are filmed putting our ministers on the spot. It’s disheartening to hear that, despite the evidence to suggest FGM is rampant in this country, Michael Gove (Secretary of State for Education) refuses to include it as a mandatory part of safeguarding in schools training.
I wish Charlotte & all the team at The Feminist Times every success.
Thursday, 24 October 2013
Syria Talks End in Deadlock While Sudan Makes Audacious IMF Bid
It should come as no surprise that yesterday’s talks in London ended in deadlock. The template for the Syria crisis is not new.
The Syrian National Coalition (SNC), the main opposition group, is right to be reticent about entering into peace talks with Assad. After ten years of genocide, Darfuris have grown weary of so called peace talks. President Al Bashir has signed every one of them and reneged on every one of them.
The SNC knows that when the media’s gaze is deflected by peace talks, violence on the ground will intensify (as it did in Rwanda, Bosnia and still does in Sudan). They will know too that, although “peace talks” and “dictator” is an oxymoron, the opposition contingent that refuses to participate will be labelled “obstructive”. They’re damned if they do and damned if they don’t.
Hague and Kerry’s “what can we do” routine is disingenuous. Adopting a piggy in the middle routine won’t wash. The UN’s Responsibility to Protect Mandate bestows upon them a duty to act when civilians are being slaughtered by a brutal dictator. Not that UN mandates count for anything anymore.
This month the IMF is considering wiping clean US$42 Billion of Sudan’s external debt. Much of this debt was given over to profligate military expenditures used in a sustained and prolonged genocidal campaign. More again was squandered on the regime’s self enrichment.
The international community must deal with economic and human rights issues simultaneously. The Save Darfur Coalition is arguing for the full implementation of the Comprehensive Peace Agreement (CPA) and significant structural reforms, which would fundamentally change the repressive systems in Sudan.
To provide debt relief in the absence of these conditions being met, would confer legitimacy, and financial resources, for the regime to continue its campaign of rape, starvation, murder and displacement.
If they are to be considered credible moderators of peace, Hague and Kerry must veto Sudan's IMF bid. And, at some point, they will have to stand up to the other elephant in the room. Assad. The question is, how many innocent lives will be lost while they gather splinters sitting on that jaded, fragile fence.
The Syrian National Coalition (SNC), the main opposition group, is right to be reticent about entering into peace talks with Assad. After ten years of genocide, Darfuris have grown weary of so called peace talks. President Al Bashir has signed every one of them and reneged on every one of them.
The SNC knows that when the media’s gaze is deflected by peace talks, violence on the ground will intensify (as it did in Rwanda, Bosnia and still does in Sudan). They will know too that, although “peace talks” and “dictator” is an oxymoron, the opposition contingent that refuses to participate will be labelled “obstructive”. They’re damned if they do and damned if they don’t.
Hague and Kerry’s “what can we do” routine is disingenuous. Adopting a piggy in the middle routine won’t wash. The UN’s Responsibility to Protect Mandate bestows upon them a duty to act when civilians are being slaughtered by a brutal dictator. Not that UN mandates count for anything anymore.
This month the IMF is considering wiping clean US$42 Billion of Sudan’s external debt. Much of this debt was given over to profligate military expenditures used in a sustained and prolonged genocidal campaign. More again was squandered on the regime’s self enrichment.
The international community must deal with economic and human rights issues simultaneously. The Save Darfur Coalition is arguing for the full implementation of the Comprehensive Peace Agreement (CPA) and significant structural reforms, which would fundamentally change the repressive systems in Sudan.
To provide debt relief in the absence of these conditions being met, would confer legitimacy, and financial resources, for the regime to continue its campaign of rape, starvation, murder and displacement.
If they are to be considered credible moderators of peace, Hague and Kerry must veto Sudan's IMF bid. And, at some point, they will have to stand up to the other elephant in the room. Assad. The question is, how many innocent lives will be lost while they gather splinters sitting on that jaded, fragile fence.
Saturday, 19 October 2013
It's not Gloria De Piero's Boobs That Are Controversial. It's Her Brain
On Thursday Labour MP, Gloria De Piero, made the news. Not because of her policies but because of her boobs. It seems a national newspaper offered thousands of pounds to unearth topless pictures taken when she was 15. Days earlier her appointment as shadow minister for women and equalities was announced. That’ll teach a working class woman to have notions above her station.
On Tuesday representatives from Lose the Lad’s mags campaign, including actress Ramola Garai, spoke at a sold out event in parliament. They argued that, having lad’s mags on sale in family spaces, such as Tesco, was contributing to a culture wherein the sexualisation of women and young girls, is considered normal.
Glamour models are ubiquitous. Women, like De Piero, who dare to make a bid for power, using their brains rather than their bodies, however, are either invisible or pilloried by the press. The two stories are inextricably linked.
Initially, the press wasn’t that interested in the Lose the Lad’s Mags story. Then Dominic Smith, grandiloquent editor of Nuts, entered the fray. There’s nothing like a bit of agro to prick the malestream media’s interest.
In an interview with Green MP Caroline Lucas, on Radio 5 Live, Smith seemed flummoxed by Lucas’ use of “big” words, like “culture” and “objectification”. I can see how such vocabulary, coming from a woman, can be discombobulating (gratuitous big word alert) to a man who surrounds himself with compliant teenagers whose brains are sadly often surplus to other anatomical requirements. Smith then used Lucas’ linguistic dexterity to accuse her, and the entire campaign, of being middle class, therefore irrelevant.
I’m a feminist, from a working class background, with a penchant for big words myself (I collected them as a child). I grew up on the “wrong” side of the Liffey and, whilst there were many things we couldn’t afford (hence collecting words as opposed to dolls), education wasn’t one of them. That was free.
It’s because of my education that I can intellectually deconstruct the propaganda peddled by Smith and other purveyors of porn. It’s not just patronising to imply that the only choice open to girls from working class backgrounds, is to get their kit off for male titillation, it’s also cods wallop.
By refusing to engage with the intellectual discourse on the grounds that it’s “middle class”, lad’s mags’ apologists are copping out. When surveys produce data indicating that 63% of teenagers aspire to be glamour models as opposed to doctors, teachers, or, God forbid (in the non denominational sense), politicians, like De Piero, alarm bells should be ringing.
Supporters of lad’s mags say they’re not pornographic (and Tetley isn’t tea). That they’re no worse than women’s magazines. I loathe most women’s magazines. Many are guilty of multitudinous crimes against women, but they’re not porn. Lad’s mags offer free videos of women dressed like schoolgirls, stripping, they contain adverts that lead into hardcore porn and the back pages are awash with numbers for sex chat lines.
Also worth noting, women’s magazines tend to put other women on the front cover. If they serially featured teenage boys in tongs (or naked), leaving nothing to the imagination, with splayed legs and fondling his bits, there would be a public outcry. Sexualised images of women and girls are so pervasive now that we’ve become desensitised to them (see Porn on the High Street? It’s Just a Bit of Harmless Fun!).
It’s reported that half of school girls are considering plastic surgery to make themselves thinner and prettier, 90% of eating disorders are amongst females, teenage gang rape is on the increase and 1 in 3 girls have reported unwelcome sexual touching at school. Camden Girls School made similar points in a documentary, which persuaded their local Tesco to remove lad’s mags.
Portraying women as sex objects perpetuates gender inequalities. Objectification is dehumanising. That’s the point. It’s much easier to abuse (or discriminate against) a non person reduced to mere body parts. Tits and ass usually. The sex industry, which includes lad’s rags, has vested interests in normalising the objectification of women. To them women, and girls, are just commodities. To be bought and sold - in your local Tesco.
On Tuesday representatives from Lose the Lad’s mags campaign, including actress Ramola Garai, spoke at a sold out event in parliament. They argued that, having lad’s mags on sale in family spaces, such as Tesco, was contributing to a culture wherein the sexualisation of women and young girls, is considered normal.
Glamour models are ubiquitous. Women, like De Piero, who dare to make a bid for power, using their brains rather than their bodies, however, are either invisible or pilloried by the press. The two stories are inextricably linked.
Initially, the press wasn’t that interested in the Lose the Lad’s Mags story. Then Dominic Smith, grandiloquent editor of Nuts, entered the fray. There’s nothing like a bit of agro to prick the malestream media’s interest.
In an interview with Green MP Caroline Lucas, on Radio 5 Live, Smith seemed flummoxed by Lucas’ use of “big” words, like “culture” and “objectification”. I can see how such vocabulary, coming from a woman, can be discombobulating (gratuitous big word alert) to a man who surrounds himself with compliant teenagers whose brains are sadly often surplus to other anatomical requirements. Smith then used Lucas’ linguistic dexterity to accuse her, and the entire campaign, of being middle class, therefore irrelevant.
I’m a feminist, from a working class background, with a penchant for big words myself (I collected them as a child). I grew up on the “wrong” side of the Liffey and, whilst there were many things we couldn’t afford (hence collecting words as opposed to dolls), education wasn’t one of them. That was free.
It’s because of my education that I can intellectually deconstruct the propaganda peddled by Smith and other purveyors of porn. It’s not just patronising to imply that the only choice open to girls from working class backgrounds, is to get their kit off for male titillation, it’s also cods wallop.
By refusing to engage with the intellectual discourse on the grounds that it’s “middle class”, lad’s mags’ apologists are copping out. When surveys produce data indicating that 63% of teenagers aspire to be glamour models as opposed to doctors, teachers, or, God forbid (in the non denominational sense), politicians, like De Piero, alarm bells should be ringing.
Supporters of lad’s mags say they’re not pornographic (and Tetley isn’t tea). That they’re no worse than women’s magazines. I loathe most women’s magazines. Many are guilty of multitudinous crimes against women, but they’re not porn. Lad’s mags offer free videos of women dressed like schoolgirls, stripping, they contain adverts that lead into hardcore porn and the back pages are awash with numbers for sex chat lines.
Also worth noting, women’s magazines tend to put other women on the front cover. If they serially featured teenage boys in tongs (or naked), leaving nothing to the imagination, with splayed legs and fondling his bits, there would be a public outcry. Sexualised images of women and girls are so pervasive now that we’ve become desensitised to them (see Porn on the High Street? It’s Just a Bit of Harmless Fun!).
It’s reported that half of school girls are considering plastic surgery to make themselves thinner and prettier, 90% of eating disorders are amongst females, teenage gang rape is on the increase and 1 in 3 girls have reported unwelcome sexual touching at school. Camden Girls School made similar points in a documentary, which persuaded their local Tesco to remove lad’s mags.
Portraying women as sex objects perpetuates gender inequalities. Objectification is dehumanising. That’s the point. It’s much easier to abuse (or discriminate against) a non person reduced to mere body parts. Tits and ass usually. The sex industry, which includes lad’s rags, has vested interests in normalising the objectification of women. To them women, and girls, are just commodities. To be bought and sold - in your local Tesco.
Friday, 11 October 2013
Another Slap in the Face for Struggling Families
* This piece was published today in Open Democracy. Link will soon be uploaded to "Press" section of my website.
On Sunday morning, I sat bleary eyed in the Sunday Morning Live studios alongside Peter Hitchens and Yvonne Ridley. The topic we discussed was marriage and whether it provides better outcomes for children. Within moments of coming off air, I was bombarded with messages. Apart from one person fulminating about my going to hell in a hand basket, along with Sinead O’Connor and Madonna, the rest were vehemently opposed to the idea of incentivising people to get married.
In reality, only 1/3 of married couples would be eligible for the marriage tax allowance, at a cost of £700m to tax payers. Households with a traditional 1950’s breadwinner and homemaker stand to gain the most. According to the campaign group Don’t Judge my Family, this policy would discriminate against widows and widowers, people leaving abusive relationships, working parents, people who choose not to marry and the 1 in 4 children growing up in single parent families.
Ian Duncan Smith pontificates about children born to married couples having better outcomes. That’s true, not because of marriage itself, but rather because married couples tend to be better educated and enjoy higher incomes. He’s conflating correlation with causation.
A far more relevant, detrimental, determinant of children’s outcomes is poverty. According to Barnardos there are 3.6m children in Britain living in poverty and 2.5m families in fuel poverty. Crippling benefits cuts are condemning Britain’s poorest children to growing up in a cycle of poverty, with increased risk of chronic illness, malnutrition and poor educational attainment.
Freezing child benefit for the third year running will do nothing to help these children. Nor will this government’s decision to break the link between benefits and inflation. Energy prices alone are set to increase by 10% this year, that’s three times the rate of inflation. Meanwhile, one of the big 6 energy companies SSE awarded 4 executives £5 million in bonuses this year, despite being fined a record £105 million for prolonged and extreme mis-selling. To add insult to injury, SSE announced an excruciating price hike yesterday.
Austerity measures, targeting the most vulnerable in society, have left families, on average, £900 worse off a year. Bribing these couples with the chance to recoup £200 (of the £900 stolen from them), in exchange for getting married, is like stealing someone’s car and offering them a bus pass as compensation.
While the poor get poorer, government policies ensure the rich get richer. Cutting the top rate of tax from 50p to 45p has made millionaires in this country hundreds of thousands of pounds better off. Big businesses are still exploiting tax loopholes which the government has neglected to close, at a loss of billions to the exchequer annually.
I was in Greece recently to speak at an international women’s summit hosted by the European Sustainability Academy. It emerged that the biggest barrier to women achieving their potential, was not the pay gap, quotas in favour of men, or even child care. It was domestic violence. Despite Greece having one of the lowest divorce rates in Europe, domestic violence is rampant.
I grew up in Ireland, where divorce has only been legal since 1997. For many, family life wasn’t so much The Waltons as Psycho. Domestic violence always existed. The only difference is, historically, there were no women’s refuges. There were however, lots of Tupperware parties, which was a 1970’s version of the Irish Women’s Movement.
Children who are exposed to abuse are more likely to repeat the cycle in adulthood. We must teach children that it’s not OK to be abused or humiliated, especially by someone claiming to love them. And, that sometimes the right thing to do is walk away.
There’s a Greek saying, When poverty comes in the front door, happiness goes out the window. Families around the country are struggling to feed their children, unable to pay heating bills and living in fear of eviction. Headlines about marriage couldn’t be more disconnected from their reality. Hasn’t anyone at Tory HQ ever heard of Mazlow’s hierarchy of needs?
On Sunday morning, I sat bleary eyed in the Sunday Morning Live studios alongside Peter Hitchens and Yvonne Ridley. The topic we discussed was marriage and whether it provides better outcomes for children. Within moments of coming off air, I was bombarded with messages. Apart from one person fulminating about my going to hell in a hand basket, along with Sinead O’Connor and Madonna, the rest were vehemently opposed to the idea of incentivising people to get married.
In reality, only 1/3 of married couples would be eligible for the marriage tax allowance, at a cost of £700m to tax payers. Households with a traditional 1950’s breadwinner and homemaker stand to gain the most. According to the campaign group Don’t Judge my Family, this policy would discriminate against widows and widowers, people leaving abusive relationships, working parents, people who choose not to marry and the 1 in 4 children growing up in single parent families.
Ian Duncan Smith pontificates about children born to married couples having better outcomes. That’s true, not because of marriage itself, but rather because married couples tend to be better educated and enjoy higher incomes. He’s conflating correlation with causation.
A far more relevant, detrimental, determinant of children’s outcomes is poverty. According to Barnardos there are 3.6m children in Britain living in poverty and 2.5m families in fuel poverty. Crippling benefits cuts are condemning Britain’s poorest children to growing up in a cycle of poverty, with increased risk of chronic illness, malnutrition and poor educational attainment.
Freezing child benefit for the third year running will do nothing to help these children. Nor will this government’s decision to break the link between benefits and inflation. Energy prices alone are set to increase by 10% this year, that’s three times the rate of inflation. Meanwhile, one of the big 6 energy companies SSE awarded 4 executives £5 million in bonuses this year, despite being fined a record £105 million for prolonged and extreme mis-selling. To add insult to injury, SSE announced an excruciating price hike yesterday.
Austerity measures, targeting the most vulnerable in society, have left families, on average, £900 worse off a year. Bribing these couples with the chance to recoup £200 (of the £900 stolen from them), in exchange for getting married, is like stealing someone’s car and offering them a bus pass as compensation.
While the poor get poorer, government policies ensure the rich get richer. Cutting the top rate of tax from 50p to 45p has made millionaires in this country hundreds of thousands of pounds better off. Big businesses are still exploiting tax loopholes which the government has neglected to close, at a loss of billions to the exchequer annually.
I was in Greece recently to speak at an international women’s summit hosted by the European Sustainability Academy. It emerged that the biggest barrier to women achieving their potential, was not the pay gap, quotas in favour of men, or even child care. It was domestic violence. Despite Greece having one of the lowest divorce rates in Europe, domestic violence is rampant.
I grew up in Ireland, where divorce has only been legal since 1997. For many, family life wasn’t so much The Waltons as Psycho. Domestic violence always existed. The only difference is, historically, there were no women’s refuges. There were however, lots of Tupperware parties, which was a 1970’s version of the Irish Women’s Movement.
Children who are exposed to abuse are more likely to repeat the cycle in adulthood. We must teach children that it’s not OK to be abused or humiliated, especially by someone claiming to love them. And, that sometimes the right thing to do is walk away.
There’s a Greek saying, When poverty comes in the front door, happiness goes out the window. Families around the country are struggling to feed their children, unable to pay heating bills and living in fear of eviction. Headlines about marriage couldn’t be more disconnected from their reality. Hasn’t anyone at Tory HQ ever heard of Mazlow’s hierarchy of needs?
Monday, 7 October 2013
The Marriage Tax Allowance is a Red Herring
I was a guest on the BBC’s Sunday Morning Live yesterday. Pitched against The Daily Mail columnist, Peter Hitchens, & lived to tell the tale. Although our moral compasses are diametrically opposed, I have to admire the fact that he has one. A moral compass that is. Thoroughly enjoyed the sparring. Seems like an affable man underneath all that moral indignation.
The topic we discussed was marriage & whether it provides better outcomes for children. It was spurred largely by the Tory’s ill conceived marriage tax allowance which, in my opinion, is a red herring. It keeps us from talking about the real issues, such as, the fact that poverty is a far greater determinant of children’s outcomes.
The Tory's austerity measures, together with their refusal to rein in energy companies, has driven 2.5m families into fuel poverty, when there are already 3m children living in poverty in the UK. That's the story this sound bite is designed to obfuscate.
You can see Peter & I lock horns on BBC iplayer. It will also be uploaded on my website within the next few days.
* Samira Ahmed is effortlessly personable & inclusive. A veritable mistress of her craft.
The topic we discussed was marriage & whether it provides better outcomes for children. It was spurred largely by the Tory’s ill conceived marriage tax allowance which, in my opinion, is a red herring. It keeps us from talking about the real issues, such as, the fact that poverty is a far greater determinant of children’s outcomes.
The Tory's austerity measures, together with their refusal to rein in energy companies, has driven 2.5m families into fuel poverty, when there are already 3m children living in poverty in the UK. That's the story this sound bite is designed to obfuscate.
You can see Peter & I lock horns on BBC iplayer. It will also be uploaded on my website within the next few days.
* Samira Ahmed is effortlessly personable & inclusive. A veritable mistress of her craft.
Thursday, 3 October 2013
Britain is Failing Victims of Female Genital Mutilation
Betty Makoni is the kind of woman I want to be when I grow up. She is fearless, wise and funny. Her heart is as big as the continent she hails from. Africa.
I met Betty last week at an International Women’s Empowerment Summit, hosted by the European Sustainability Academy in Crete. Dispensing with the usual formalities of speech making, Betty stood up and announced, “I was raped when I was 6, my mother died after being beaten by my father when I was 9. I shouldn’t be here”.
The fact that Betty survived her childhood is a miracle. Her story though, is not about her abuse, but what she did about it.
She channelled her anger into creating a charity, the “Girl child network”, that has to date rescued in excess of 450,000 girls, across 6 African countries, from sexual violence. Providing a safe place to heal, become educated and empowered.
She came to international attention when she won a CNN hero award (presented by Nicole Kidman) for her work, which originated in her native Zimbabwe. Betty used her global platform to draw the world’s attention to the fact that rape is strategically employed as a weapon of war. Despite this being recognised by the UN as a crime against humanity since 2008, the numbers of prosecutions are negligible.
A strong, unapologetic woman who won’t be silenced is a threat anywhere in the world, but even more so in Mugabe’s Zimbabwe. Death threats forced Betty to live in exile in the UK, where she continues fund raising for her pan African charity. She is now a gender based violence expert for the Foreign Office and campaigns against Female Genital Mutilation (FGM). Although the British government recently pledged £35 million to combating FGM abroad, there is a crisis much closer to home.
A few weeks ago, Betty caused controversy by speaking out about the disturbing prevalence of FGM in the UK. She maintains that it’s not uncommon for babies and young girls to be taken overseas to be “stitched up” or attend “cutting parties” in the UK, where group rates are offered to reduce costs.
She also highlighted another type of FGM which doesn’t involve cutting or stitching but rather pulling the labia and clitoris out, or “elongating”. A torturous process she herself was subjected to as a child. According to Betty, this form of FGM, although prevalent in the UK, is considered unpalatable for publication in the British media.
It’s estimated that more than 20,000 girls in the UK are at risk of FGM. Despite the fact that it has been classed as a serious criminal offence in the UK since 1985, there have been no prosecutions. This contrasts with France where there have been 100. A recent NSPCC survey also indicated that 1 in 6 teachers weren’t aware that FGM is illegal and didn’t consider it to be child abuse.
Whilst I welcome the government’s investment in tackling FGM overseas, we must do much more to combat this form of child abuse in the UK. Betty Makoni is not a victim, she’s a survivor. It’s thanks to her that FGM is even on the political agenda. It’s up to the rest of us to make sure it stays there.
I met Betty last week at an International Women’s Empowerment Summit, hosted by the European Sustainability Academy in Crete. Dispensing with the usual formalities of speech making, Betty stood up and announced, “I was raped when I was 6, my mother died after being beaten by my father when I was 9. I shouldn’t be here”.
The fact that Betty survived her childhood is a miracle. Her story though, is not about her abuse, but what she did about it.
She channelled her anger into creating a charity, the “Girl child network”, that has to date rescued in excess of 450,000 girls, across 6 African countries, from sexual violence. Providing a safe place to heal, become educated and empowered.
She came to international attention when she won a CNN hero award (presented by Nicole Kidman) for her work, which originated in her native Zimbabwe. Betty used her global platform to draw the world’s attention to the fact that rape is strategically employed as a weapon of war. Despite this being recognised by the UN as a crime against humanity since 2008, the numbers of prosecutions are negligible.
A strong, unapologetic woman who won’t be silenced is a threat anywhere in the world, but even more so in Mugabe’s Zimbabwe. Death threats forced Betty to live in exile in the UK, where she continues fund raising for her pan African charity. She is now a gender based violence expert for the Foreign Office and campaigns against Female Genital Mutilation (FGM). Although the British government recently pledged £35 million to combating FGM abroad, there is a crisis much closer to home.
A few weeks ago, Betty caused controversy by speaking out about the disturbing prevalence of FGM in the UK. She maintains that it’s not uncommon for babies and young girls to be taken overseas to be “stitched up” or attend “cutting parties” in the UK, where group rates are offered to reduce costs.
She also highlighted another type of FGM which doesn’t involve cutting or stitching but rather pulling the labia and clitoris out, or “elongating”. A torturous process she herself was subjected to as a child. According to Betty, this form of FGM, although prevalent in the UK, is considered unpalatable for publication in the British media.
It’s estimated that more than 20,000 girls in the UK are at risk of FGM. Despite the fact that it has been classed as a serious criminal offence in the UK since 1985, there have been no prosecutions. This contrasts with France where there have been 100. A recent NSPCC survey also indicated that 1 in 6 teachers weren’t aware that FGM is illegal and didn’t consider it to be child abuse.
Whilst I welcome the government’s investment in tackling FGM overseas, we must do much more to combat this form of child abuse in the UK. Betty Makoni is not a victim, she’s a survivor. It’s thanks to her that FGM is even on the political agenda. It’s up to the rest of us to make sure it stays there.
Wednesday, 25 September 2013
The UN’s Failure to Confront Despots is Breeding Monsters
Arms dealer to tyrants around the world, Russia’s new moniker of peace broker is incongruous. It’s like inviting a tax dodging Irish rock star (you know who you are) to the G8 summit to discuss ways of clamping down on, well, tax dodging rock stars. Turkeys, on the whole, don’t vote for Christmas.
As the UN Security Council meets this week, Russia will veto a resolution that would trigger punitive measures against the Assad regime. The “trigger” would be his failure to comply with the Geneva peace agreement. Basic human psychology dictates that all carrot and no stick is futile and, history tells us it’s a fatal strategy when dealing with ruthless despots. Have we learned nothing from Rwanda, Bosnia and Sudan?
The template for the Syria crisis is not new. The plot, script and supporting cast are the same. A brutal regime subjugates its own people for years. The oppressed, with nothing left to lose, engage in minor acts of rebellion (public demonstrations, graffiti on walls). The indignant dictator quashes any dissent with disproportionate force (mass murder and torture) and when the country descends into chaos, the international media tag it civil war (which implies moral equivalence). Cue public protestations of, “it’s none of our business”, let them fight it out amongst themselves”.
As the story unfolds, attempts to report it accurately are hampered (“foreign reporters” are banned). Mortality rates, news of torture, rape and civilians casualties are best guesses. The truth gets lost in the fog of government propaganda. Inevitably, eventually, someone gains access and evidence of the regimes’ crimes against humanity become impossible, even for the UN to ignore. In Bosnia it was Srebrenica.
At last the media spotlight will shine a light on the faces of the dead and disfigured children. The lens will penetrate the toxic haze and show the world the eyes behind which lie an abyss of broken hearts and minds. Then the world will look away.
Not immediately perhaps but slowly, surely, we will abandon the children of Syria just as we abandoned the children of Rwanda, Bosnia, Palestine and Sudan. Threats of sanctions, UN resolutions and chapter 7 mandates, all serve to reassure us the UN is on the case. The children will be safe at last. But after 10 years of tough talk, securing a chapter 7 mandate (despite Russia and China’s attempts at sabotage) and passing 16 resolutions (none of which have been implemented), children continue to be slaughtered and starved to death on a daily basis in Sudan.
As presidential candidate in 2007, Obama said, When you see a genocide in Rwanda, Bosnia or in Darfur [Sudan], that is a stain on all of us…We can’t say ‘never again’ and then allow it to happen again, and as a president of the United States I don’t intend to abandon people or turn a blind eye to slaughter.”
Having briefed David Cameron’s office ahead of a visit to Darfur in 2006, he returned protesting, “This is ethnic cleansing and we cannot remain silent in the face of this horror."
Yet, with the reins of power firmly in their grip,political expediency trumps the genocide of black Africans. Again.
So, when Obama warned that backing down on despots who slaughter their own people emboldens tyrants everywhere, he was right. It was arguably his and the UN’s failure to stand up to the genocidaire in Khartoum that created the monster in Damascus.
As the UN meets this week to decide the fate of Syria, world leaders must also be reminded of their obligations under the Genocide Convention (1948) to the beleaguered, depleting civilians of Sudan. Their lives are no less worthy of protection, are they?
As the UN Security Council meets this week, Russia will veto a resolution that would trigger punitive measures against the Assad regime. The “trigger” would be his failure to comply with the Geneva peace agreement. Basic human psychology dictates that all carrot and no stick is futile and, history tells us it’s a fatal strategy when dealing with ruthless despots. Have we learned nothing from Rwanda, Bosnia and Sudan?
The template for the Syria crisis is not new. The plot, script and supporting cast are the same. A brutal regime subjugates its own people for years. The oppressed, with nothing left to lose, engage in minor acts of rebellion (public demonstrations, graffiti on walls). The indignant dictator quashes any dissent with disproportionate force (mass murder and torture) and when the country descends into chaos, the international media tag it civil war (which implies moral equivalence). Cue public protestations of, “it’s none of our business”, let them fight it out amongst themselves”.
As the story unfolds, attempts to report it accurately are hampered (“foreign reporters” are banned). Mortality rates, news of torture, rape and civilians casualties are best guesses. The truth gets lost in the fog of government propaganda. Inevitably, eventually, someone gains access and evidence of the regimes’ crimes against humanity become impossible, even for the UN to ignore. In Bosnia it was Srebrenica.
At last the media spotlight will shine a light on the faces of the dead and disfigured children. The lens will penetrate the toxic haze and show the world the eyes behind which lie an abyss of broken hearts and minds. Then the world will look away.
Not immediately perhaps but slowly, surely, we will abandon the children of Syria just as we abandoned the children of Rwanda, Bosnia, Palestine and Sudan. Threats of sanctions, UN resolutions and chapter 7 mandates, all serve to reassure us the UN is on the case. The children will be safe at last. But after 10 years of tough talk, securing a chapter 7 mandate (despite Russia and China’s attempts at sabotage) and passing 16 resolutions (none of which have been implemented), children continue to be slaughtered and starved to death on a daily basis in Sudan.
As presidential candidate in 2007, Obama said, When you see a genocide in Rwanda, Bosnia or in Darfur [Sudan], that is a stain on all of us…We can’t say ‘never again’ and then allow it to happen again, and as a president of the United States I don’t intend to abandon people or turn a blind eye to slaughter.”
Having briefed David Cameron’s office ahead of a visit to Darfur in 2006, he returned protesting, “This is ethnic cleansing and we cannot remain silent in the face of this horror."
Yet, with the reins of power firmly in their grip,political expediency trumps the genocide of black Africans. Again.
So, when Obama warned that backing down on despots who slaughter their own people emboldens tyrants everywhere, he was right. It was arguably his and the UN’s failure to stand up to the genocidaire in Khartoum that created the monster in Damascus.
As the UN meets this week to decide the fate of Syria, world leaders must also be reminded of their obligations under the Genocide Convention (1948) to the beleaguered, depleting civilians of Sudan. Their lives are no less worthy of protection, are they?
Tuesday, 17 September 2013
"Our Deepest Fear is That We are Powerful Beyond Measure...."
I’m in the midst of preparing my presentation for an international Women’s Empowerment Summit in Crete at the end of the month (I know, it’s a tough job but someone’s got to do it). I dug this gem out of my treasure trove...
“Our deepest fear is that we are powerful
beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness
that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who
am I to be brilliant, talented and
fabulous. Actually, who are you not to be”?
(Nelson Mandela 1994, from a speech written for him by
Marianne Williamson).
Thanks to those of you who send kind messages, info & interesting papers etc via my website.
“Our deepest fear is that we are powerful
beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness
that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who
am I to be brilliant, talented and
fabulous. Actually, who are you not to be”?
(Nelson Mandela 1994, from a speech written for him by
Marianne Williamson).
Thanks to those of you who send kind messages, info & interesting papers etc via my website.
Sunday, 15 September 2013
A Victory for “Lose the Lad Mags” Campaign & Women Everywhere!
And the award for most female friendly retailer goes to…..The Co-Op! On Wednesday the company announced it was banning lad mags from its shelves. Well done to the team at UK Feminista & Object. Anyone who hasn’t done so already, I urge you to sign their online petition to persuade Tesco & co to follow The Co-Ops lead.
Having said that, Camden School for Girls feminist society are the real trail blazers. Back in February they took on their local Tesco & won. They made a documentary featuring interviews from girls at the school talking about the effect the daily diet of “soft” porn images of women, displayed at eye level, had on their self esteem. They obviously made a compelling case. An inspirational example of targeted grass roots campaigning.
Now all we need to do is persuade Mr Murdoch that page 3 is sooo last century. In the meantime, I'll continue with my acts of civil disobedience. If you see copies of "Good Housekeeping" obscuring the lad rags in your local retailer, you probably live near me.
* Apologies for gap since last blog. I've been working on an intense project & warding off energy vampires...
Having said that, Camden School for Girls feminist society are the real trail blazers. Back in February they took on their local Tesco & won. They made a documentary featuring interviews from girls at the school talking about the effect the daily diet of “soft” porn images of women, displayed at eye level, had on their self esteem. They obviously made a compelling case. An inspirational example of targeted grass roots campaigning.
Now all we need to do is persuade Mr Murdoch that page 3 is sooo last century. In the meantime, I'll continue with my acts of civil disobedience. If you see copies of "Good Housekeeping" obscuring the lad rags in your local retailer, you probably live near me.
* Apologies for gap since last blog. I've been working on an intense project & warding off energy vampires...
Monday, 26 August 2013
50 Years Ago Martin Luther King Had a Dream
*This article was published in The Huffington Post on 28 August
Wednesday marks the 50th anniversary of Martin Luther King’s seminal “I have a dream” speech. However pertinent then, it is obsolete in today’s post racialism Britain. His account of black people being shackled “by the chains of discrimination” is about as outdated as VHS.
Today, racism is a mythical concept incubated in the minds of liberal fundamentalists and the likes of Oprah (“you can’t afford that handbag”) Winfrey. An aside: It’s hardly the shop assistants’ fault if black people in Switzerland are poor.
When I came to live in this country I had the right mindset. That of fitting in. Before I even left my native Dublin I took elocution lessons and words like “feck” were banished from my vocabulary. It helped that I dyed my carrot red hair black and reduced my daily alcohol intake from 10 to 8.5 pints. You won’t find U2 or The Script on my ipod. I changed my name from Mary Gobnit O’Reilly to the more British sounding Tess (short for Tessandra) Finch-Lees. My assimilation was complete.
I do think that ethnic minorities could do more to fit in. In the same way that Isla Fisher converted to Judaism and Katie Homes to Scientology in an apparent bid to ingratiate their men, why can’t black and minority ethnics (BMEs) at least show willing?
It was recently reported that schools requiring supply teachers are asking for a “John Smith, if you know what I mean”? Surely, if you want a job, rather than dig your heals in, flaunting your unpronounceable foreign name, on principle, just change it to John Smith or Jane Jones for goodness sake. Pride comes before a fall and all that.
Fifty years ago signs such as, “No blacks, dogs or Irish” were commonplace. Nowadays, [well behaved] Irish and dogs are welcome in most British establishments. In post racialism Britain you would never see signs telling immigrants to go home. Any cryptograms, say written on vans patrolling through London, and the random targeting of dark skinned immigrants at railway stations, would be illegal. The racists behind it would be hauled before the courts. That’s what the Equality and Human Rights Commission is there for. Isn’t it?
As long as the PC brigade keep banging on about racism a climate of victimhood will prevail. They churn out statistics with the velocity and conviction with which Catholics produce offspring. The fact that there is only one black CEO in the ftse 100 (and he’s not British), that only 1 in 20 of the judiciary is BME and that there is only one non white editor of a national newspaper, is frankly, just one of those things.
A lot of what is termed “racist” in contemporary society is being whipped up by the racialism industry. Take the recent to do after it emerged the Tory MP Jacob Rees-Mogg spoke at the Traditional Britain Group dinner. An organisation that condemned Doreen Lawrence’s peerage as “a monstrous disgrace”. Like Enoch Powell, the TBG called for Ms Lawrence to return to her natural homeland. Easier said than done. Those chaps have obviously never tried to catch a tube to South London at rush hour.
I have it on good authority that Mr Rees-Hogg, like his Tory colleague, Calum Rupert Heaton-Gent (actual name), who also attended the dinner, were victims of a misunderstanding. Their Eton advisors thought TBG stood for Transvestite, Black and Gay, so they only agreed to attend in the hope of shoring up swing voters. Allegedly.
Even Tory MP, Adam Afriyie, has reportedly described himself as “post –racial”. “I don’t see myself as a black man”. Obviously not. How else could he rub shoulders with the likes of Patrick Mercer, who, as an army officer, said his black soldiers were routinely referred to as “n*****s”, and who lambasted “idle and useless” ethnic minority soldiers who “used racism to cover their misdemeanors”.
Fifty years on there’s a disproportionately higher representation of black people in prison, living in poverty, and dying in police custody in the UK. Whilst I concede this arguably falls short of Martin Luther King’s dream of justice and equality, frankly, as long as those of a darker hue are being picked on, it takes the heat off us Irish. And dogs.
Wednesday marks the 50th anniversary of Martin Luther King’s seminal “I have a dream” speech. However pertinent then, it is obsolete in today’s post racialism Britain. His account of black people being shackled “by the chains of discrimination” is about as outdated as VHS.
Today, racism is a mythical concept incubated in the minds of liberal fundamentalists and the likes of Oprah (“you can’t afford that handbag”) Winfrey. An aside: It’s hardly the shop assistants’ fault if black people in Switzerland are poor.
When I came to live in this country I had the right mindset. That of fitting in. Before I even left my native Dublin I took elocution lessons and words like “feck” were banished from my vocabulary. It helped that I dyed my carrot red hair black and reduced my daily alcohol intake from 10 to 8.5 pints. You won’t find U2 or The Script on my ipod. I changed my name from Mary Gobnit O’Reilly to the more British sounding Tess (short for Tessandra) Finch-Lees. My assimilation was complete.
I do think that ethnic minorities could do more to fit in. In the same way that Isla Fisher converted to Judaism and Katie Homes to Scientology in an apparent bid to ingratiate their men, why can’t black and minority ethnics (BMEs) at least show willing?
It was recently reported that schools requiring supply teachers are asking for a “John Smith, if you know what I mean”? Surely, if you want a job, rather than dig your heals in, flaunting your unpronounceable foreign name, on principle, just change it to John Smith or Jane Jones for goodness sake. Pride comes before a fall and all that.
Fifty years ago signs such as, “No blacks, dogs or Irish” were commonplace. Nowadays, [well behaved] Irish and dogs are welcome in most British establishments. In post racialism Britain you would never see signs telling immigrants to go home. Any cryptograms, say written on vans patrolling through London, and the random targeting of dark skinned immigrants at railway stations, would be illegal. The racists behind it would be hauled before the courts. That’s what the Equality and Human Rights Commission is there for. Isn’t it?
As long as the PC brigade keep banging on about racism a climate of victimhood will prevail. They churn out statistics with the velocity and conviction with which Catholics produce offspring. The fact that there is only one black CEO in the ftse 100 (and he’s not British), that only 1 in 20 of the judiciary is BME and that there is only one non white editor of a national newspaper, is frankly, just one of those things.
A lot of what is termed “racist” in contemporary society is being whipped up by the racialism industry. Take the recent to do after it emerged the Tory MP Jacob Rees-Mogg spoke at the Traditional Britain Group dinner. An organisation that condemned Doreen Lawrence’s peerage as “a monstrous disgrace”. Like Enoch Powell, the TBG called for Ms Lawrence to return to her natural homeland. Easier said than done. Those chaps have obviously never tried to catch a tube to South London at rush hour.
I have it on good authority that Mr Rees-Hogg, like his Tory colleague, Calum Rupert Heaton-Gent (actual name), who also attended the dinner, were victims of a misunderstanding. Their Eton advisors thought TBG stood for Transvestite, Black and Gay, so they only agreed to attend in the hope of shoring up swing voters. Allegedly.
Even Tory MP, Adam Afriyie, has reportedly described himself as “post –racial”. “I don’t see myself as a black man”. Obviously not. How else could he rub shoulders with the likes of Patrick Mercer, who, as an army officer, said his black soldiers were routinely referred to as “n*****s”, and who lambasted “idle and useless” ethnic minority soldiers who “used racism to cover their misdemeanors”.
Fifty years on there’s a disproportionately higher representation of black people in prison, living in poverty, and dying in police custody in the UK. Whilst I concede this arguably falls short of Martin Luther King’s dream of justice and equality, frankly, as long as those of a darker hue are being picked on, it takes the heat off us Irish. And dogs.
Tuesday, 13 August 2013
Eric Pickles & the Bongo Bongo Brigade are Warm Up Acts in Count Down to General Election
If Eric Pickles is Minister for Community Cohesion, I’m the Taliban’s Minister for Women. With 15 months to go to the next election the politics of prejudice has only just begun. Having no doubt conducted a focus group in Basildon, Travellers were identified as the ethnic minority that would yield least votes and for whom there is no celebrity on speed dial if singled out for a good kicking.
Pickles is doing what Michael Howard did during the 2005 Tory election campaign, picking on Travellers in a bid to deflect the gullible public from scrutinising their policies. For example, if you dig beneath the surface, you’ll find that the term “austerity” is actually a euphemism for stealing from the poor to give to the rich. If they can pick up a few votes from UKIP while they’re at it, all the better.
Instead of maligning an entire community based on briefings from his Oxbridge intern, Eric Pickles, like his colleagues, needs to get out more.
Pickles’ defence for picking on Travellers is that they should be made to obey the law like everyone else. Not quite everyone. There are some exceptions, aren’t there Eric. Five years after the global financial crisis, which has driven countless ordinary people to destitution and, in some cases death, not one senior banker has faced criminal charges in this country.
At the same time as the most vulnerable people in society are facing cuts to jobs, wages and benefits, corporations like Starbucks, Google and Amazon are finding loopholes in the law enabling them to avoid paying full tax on profits made in this country. Utility companies are accused of price rigging and exploiting impoverished customers. The wealthy, it seems, are allowed to evade and circumvent the law with government impunity, while ordinary people pay the price for their recklessness and greed.
If different rules apply for the privileged, the principles of fairness and justice that underpin a democracy are severely undermined. These are the issues the Tories will face during the election campaign and no amount of dog whistling will throw us off the scent.
See an earlier blog re the Eviction of The Dale Farm Travellers to get an insight into the human beings behind the misinformed, misleading stereotype.
Pickles is doing what Michael Howard did during the 2005 Tory election campaign, picking on Travellers in a bid to deflect the gullible public from scrutinising their policies. For example, if you dig beneath the surface, you’ll find that the term “austerity” is actually a euphemism for stealing from the poor to give to the rich. If they can pick up a few votes from UKIP while they’re at it, all the better.
Instead of maligning an entire community based on briefings from his Oxbridge intern, Eric Pickles, like his colleagues, needs to get out more.
Pickles’ defence for picking on Travellers is that they should be made to obey the law like everyone else. Not quite everyone. There are some exceptions, aren’t there Eric. Five years after the global financial crisis, which has driven countless ordinary people to destitution and, in some cases death, not one senior banker has faced criminal charges in this country.
At the same time as the most vulnerable people in society are facing cuts to jobs, wages and benefits, corporations like Starbucks, Google and Amazon are finding loopholes in the law enabling them to avoid paying full tax on profits made in this country. Utility companies are accused of price rigging and exploiting impoverished customers. The wealthy, it seems, are allowed to evade and circumvent the law with government impunity, while ordinary people pay the price for their recklessness and greed.
If different rules apply for the privileged, the principles of fairness and justice that underpin a democracy are severely undermined. These are the issues the Tories will face during the election campaign and no amount of dog whistling will throw us off the scent.
See an earlier blog re the Eviction of The Dale Farm Travellers to get an insight into the human beings behind the misinformed, misleading stereotype.
Tuesday, 6 August 2013
When the Words “Body Bag” Were Uttered, I Would’ve Agreed to Pose Naked in Playboy
This was published in The Huffington Post today. Link will be added to the press section shortly.
Over a week has passed since news broke of Caroline Criado-Perez’s Twitter abuse. Despite two arrests, the deluge of threats against defiant women has escalated rather than abated. Caroline’s nightmare exposed the underbelly of misogyny in this, our so called “post feminist”, society. Despite being bombarded with rape and death threats, Caroline, Stella Creasy, Mary Beard, Laurie Penny, India Knight and others refuse to be intimidated into submission.
When confronted with similar tactics, albeit in person, I wasn’t so courageous. I found exposing myself to physical threats fundamentally incompatible with pregnancy, the first of which ended in miscarriage after being pinned up against a wall by a man who uttered the words “body bag” (amongst others) in my ear. My crime? Co-organising a series of demonstrations exposing the genocide in Darfur.
Having watched a film about the assassination of Veronica Guerin, a fellow Irish journalist, for daring to take on a drug cartel in Dublin, I realised my limits. Her son was the same age as mine is now when she was gunned down. I knew then if I ever became a mother I wouldn’t be so brave. In fairness, I can’t be accused of being silent, but I tend to avoid situations that expose me to physical threats of violence. Unless you count the Christmas rush at Toys R Us…
I have also resisted every effort to succumb to social media. I do so because I know how potent and polluting threats are (plus I can’t be bothered to make enough friends for it not to be embarrassing..). Although I don’t subscribe to twitter, I believe women should have the right to participate without threat of rape or other violence. Twitter’s tame and tardy response indicates the need for tighter regulation of the industry.
The rise of blogging and yes, some social media, has challenged the malestream media’s portrayal of women, as slags, nags or hags. The dinosaurs won’t let go of their sexist copyright over women without a fight though. “Controversial” women prepared to belittle feminism are always guaranteed a place on the prime time sofa. Samantha (I’m a man’s woman) Brick and Katie (rent a gob) Hopkins are regulars. Whereas “controversial” feminists are conspicuous by their absence.
I learned the hard way that not conforming to a stereotype is career limiting. A few years ago I did a live TV news interview. It went down well and my name was apparently put at the top of the “expert interviewee list”. A few days later I met an editor of the programme at a news conference who indicated that comments I made about Tony Blair had enraged “No. 10”. My name duly disappeared off the list.
If only I’d played the game, by the boys’ rules, I could be standing next to one of those grey haired geezers on a Saturday night smiling inanely and laughing at their [bad] jokes. Shame, I’m amply qualified with an impressive décolletage.
The emergence of Lad rags has undoubtedly contributed to the desensitisation of men to the sexualisation and dehumanisation of women. Nuts notoriously ran a competition wherein men were asked to send in pictures of their girlfriend’s breasts, which were then published with their heads cut off. Heads being surplus to requirements on account of them housing the most threatening organ of the female body. Her brain.
The Edinburgh fringe is currently in full flow. Last year the comedian Nick Page left the in protest at the rape “jokes”. Jimmy (the tax dodger) Carr, AKA Jammy Dodger, has an allegedly raucous line in rape jokes. For example, “What do 9 out of 10 people enjoy? Gang rape” (boom boom). How about, “What is rape anyway, but surprise sex”. The student website Unilad was reported as having the following posting: “85% of rape cases go unreported. That seems fairly good odds”.
Despite being recognised as a weapon of war by the UN, jokes and threats involving rape can be made with impunity in this country. Twitter threats against outspoken women should be a rallying call to women around the world to speak up. So few are strong female voices in the public arena, that those who dare to be heard are considered fair game.
Over a week has passed since news broke of Caroline Criado-Perez’s Twitter abuse. Despite two arrests, the deluge of threats against defiant women has escalated rather than abated. Caroline’s nightmare exposed the underbelly of misogyny in this, our so called “post feminist”, society. Despite being bombarded with rape and death threats, Caroline, Stella Creasy, Mary Beard, Laurie Penny, India Knight and others refuse to be intimidated into submission.
When confronted with similar tactics, albeit in person, I wasn’t so courageous. I found exposing myself to physical threats fundamentally incompatible with pregnancy, the first of which ended in miscarriage after being pinned up against a wall by a man who uttered the words “body bag” (amongst others) in my ear. My crime? Co-organising a series of demonstrations exposing the genocide in Darfur.
Having watched a film about the assassination of Veronica Guerin, a fellow Irish journalist, for daring to take on a drug cartel in Dublin, I realised my limits. Her son was the same age as mine is now when she was gunned down. I knew then if I ever became a mother I wouldn’t be so brave. In fairness, I can’t be accused of being silent, but I tend to avoid situations that expose me to physical threats of violence. Unless you count the Christmas rush at Toys R Us…
I have also resisted every effort to succumb to social media. I do so because I know how potent and polluting threats are (plus I can’t be bothered to make enough friends for it not to be embarrassing..). Although I don’t subscribe to twitter, I believe women should have the right to participate without threat of rape or other violence. Twitter’s tame and tardy response indicates the need for tighter regulation of the industry.
The rise of blogging and yes, some social media, has challenged the malestream media’s portrayal of women, as slags, nags or hags. The dinosaurs won’t let go of their sexist copyright over women without a fight though. “Controversial” women prepared to belittle feminism are always guaranteed a place on the prime time sofa. Samantha (I’m a man’s woman) Brick and Katie (rent a gob) Hopkins are regulars. Whereas “controversial” feminists are conspicuous by their absence.
I learned the hard way that not conforming to a stereotype is career limiting. A few years ago I did a live TV news interview. It went down well and my name was apparently put at the top of the “expert interviewee list”. A few days later I met an editor of the programme at a news conference who indicated that comments I made about Tony Blair had enraged “No. 10”. My name duly disappeared off the list.
If only I’d played the game, by the boys’ rules, I could be standing next to one of those grey haired geezers on a Saturday night smiling inanely and laughing at their [bad] jokes. Shame, I’m amply qualified with an impressive décolletage.
The emergence of Lad rags has undoubtedly contributed to the desensitisation of men to the sexualisation and dehumanisation of women. Nuts notoriously ran a competition wherein men were asked to send in pictures of their girlfriend’s breasts, which were then published with their heads cut off. Heads being surplus to requirements on account of them housing the most threatening organ of the female body. Her brain.
The Edinburgh fringe is currently in full flow. Last year the comedian Nick Page left the in protest at the rape “jokes”. Jimmy (the tax dodger) Carr, AKA Jammy Dodger, has an allegedly raucous line in rape jokes. For example, “What do 9 out of 10 people enjoy? Gang rape” (boom boom). How about, “What is rape anyway, but surprise sex”. The student website Unilad was reported as having the following posting: “85% of rape cases go unreported. That seems fairly good odds”.
Despite being recognised as a weapon of war by the UN, jokes and threats involving rape can be made with impunity in this country. Twitter threats against outspoken women should be a rallying call to women around the world to speak up. So few are strong female voices in the public arena, that those who dare to be heard are considered fair game.
Tuesday, 23 July 2013
A Different View From the Foothills
When Chris Mullin was Labour’s Minister for Africa we had a passionate, if brief encounter. Admittedly Chris didn’t reciprocate my fervor but I clung to the hope that the fateful afternoon we spent together meant something to him.
It didn’t. I’ve just finished his Westminster diaries, “A View from the Foothills”, and I don’t even feature as a footnote at the bottom of the foothills for goodness sake. In fact, according to his diary, nothing happened on that day at all. Fortunately, I captured the moment in my diary, albeit that of a nobody.
Wednesday 9th February 2005
9.00a.m. I was forwarded an invitation from Chris Mullin's office (minister for Africa) to attend a parliamentary briefing on Sudan. Concerned about his failure to stem the genocidal campaign in Darfur, I frantically trawled the internet, seeking something I could like about this man. What I found unnerved me. A formidable campaigning journalist once, he was instrumental in the release of The Birmingham six. I wondered whether high office had distorted his moral compass.
1.20p.m. Emerging from Westminster station, the Evening Standard headline caught my eye: “PM to Apologise to Guildford Four”. It was eerily serendipitous. I’d been dealt a powerful hand. I had to play it wisely.
On entering parliament, I saw a camera crew and a crowd huddled around someone. It was Ian Paisley. To get in, I had to squeeze past him as he pontificated loquaciously. I resisted the temptation to slice my 5 inch heel into the ankle of the man who made the repression of Catholics his life’s endeavour. My head still reeling, I entered Westminster hall, only to find myself face to face with Gerry Conlon. There was a group of people with him, standing in the centre of the imposing hall. Mr. Conlon was talking on his mobile. The atmosphere was charged but I couldn’t tell if it was good or bad energy. Had Blair reneged? Had the irascible Paisley stolen their thunder? I hung around trying to glean what was happening. I wanted to reach out to Conlon and say…what? “Congratulations on finally having your name cleared after 30 years of wrongful incarceration and living purgatory”? Words escaped me, so I just hovered, and stared. I noticed them looking at me awkwardly then moving on.
I realized later how I must have appeared. Looking down on them, vexed at their raised, Irish voices. No doubt donning my default furrowed brow, dressed in power clothes and brief case, ceremonial armour for my dance with the devil. Being an Irish (ex) catholic myself I was racked with guilt. Not only had I failed to communicate my sorrow and anger at the injustice they endured, I had inadvertently driven them on and made them feel they had no right to be there.
1.55p.m. We were granted admittance to committee room 24. Great mahogany tables joined together in a large rectangle. There were rows of seats at the back also. On entering, I didn’t know if I should take a seat at the table or at the rear. Fellow gatherers procrastinated too. Not one to stand on ceremony, I took a seat at the table. Despite being a campaigning novice, I had no intention of fading into the background. I asked the guy who sat next to me who he represented, “the SLA”, he said, cautiously. I nodded politely while I processed what the initials stood for, then, turning to him for confirmation…. “So, you’re a rebel”? I said, trying to sound unfazed. He was indeed a rebel leader of the Sudanese Liberation Army. He was a soft spoken doctor who had taken a year off to see if he could do something to save his people from “extinction”. Black faces (most of whom were Sudanese refugees or asylum seekers) far outnumbered white and although they had more right to be there than anyone else, there was an incongruity with the officiousness of the surroundings. The men in dowdy woolen jumpers and makeshift “suits”, handouts from a charity shop. The women, more inclined to take up seats at the back, resigned to being voiceless, yet hoping desperately to be heard.
2.00p.m. Mr. Mullin graced us with his presence. The chairman announced we would have 45 minutes. The Sudanese looked on helplessly as Mullin erroneously portrayed their plight as “a civil war”, wherein all sides were equally culpable. In desperation, they searched the room for someone to speak up on their behalf. Someone to say that assertions of moral equivalence had been disproved and that the Sudanese government, with sophisticated weaponry, was found to be responsible for 97% of the violence. There were only two NGO representatives present, neither of whom did anything to hold Mullin to account.
The pomposity and sterile politeness of the proceedings mocked the gravity of the crime we were there to discuss. The pain was palpable. A white politician continued reading and signing documents throughout. I wondered why she bothered coming. The room was full of people who had been tortured and tormented in a way that I can only imagine, for the crime of being black Africans. Now, in this their space, they were so intimidated by the portentousness of the occasion that they cowered silently, lest they inadvertently break the unwritten rules, thus being banished from the gathering. So grateful to be granted a seat at the same table as the man with the power to save them. Mr. Mullin.
2.30p.m. The Sudanese ambassador arrived. He took a seat at the top table. Despite the Sudanese government being accused of genocide, Mullin greeted him as though he was Nelson Mandela. The ambassador proceeded to hijack the proceedings by squandering the last precious moments of time with a propaganda speech, designed to intimidate. Furious, I held my hand up to speak. When ignored I spoke anyway, despite my stomach being tied in knots of barbed wire. The ambassador spoke over me, playing the status/bully card. Keeping my gaze firmly on Mullin, I ignored the ambassador and kept talking.
I reminded Mullin what a momentous day it was. That Tony Blair would apologise to the Guildford Four and the Maguire Seven (though lamentably, not the Birmingham Six). I told attendees that Mr. Mullin had played no small part in rectifying the injustices visited upon these people. I said that Mullin’s courageous and relentless campaign for the release of the Birmingham Six had influenced the other two cases. Desperate not to waste this opportunity I leant forward, stretched my hands across the table and beseeched Mullin not to let his admirable record be mired by the blood of black Africans in Darfur. For a moment there was a glimmer of compassion in his eyes, but it was fleeting. He smiled, thanked us and left. Exactly 45 minutes after he arrived.
Sometime in May 2005: Chris Mullin was sacked. I wondered whether he regretted selling his soul only to be unceremoniously dumped anyway.
July 2013: Ten years on and an estimated 500,000 Darfuris have been slaughtered and approximately 3m forced off their land into refugee camps. A decade later and the political elite, together with the media, still turn a blind eye to the genocide in Darfur. What Mr. Mullin et al don’t get is that their legacy is judged by what they did, or neglected to do, while holding the reins of power, not by the selective, deluded and oft fictitious “diaries” produced after the event.
It didn’t. I’ve just finished his Westminster diaries, “A View from the Foothills”, and I don’t even feature as a footnote at the bottom of the foothills for goodness sake. In fact, according to his diary, nothing happened on that day at all. Fortunately, I captured the moment in my diary, albeit that of a nobody.
Wednesday 9th February 2005
9.00a.m. I was forwarded an invitation from Chris Mullin's office (minister for Africa) to attend a parliamentary briefing on Sudan. Concerned about his failure to stem the genocidal campaign in Darfur, I frantically trawled the internet, seeking something I could like about this man. What I found unnerved me. A formidable campaigning journalist once, he was instrumental in the release of The Birmingham six. I wondered whether high office had distorted his moral compass.
1.20p.m. Emerging from Westminster station, the Evening Standard headline caught my eye: “PM to Apologise to Guildford Four”. It was eerily serendipitous. I’d been dealt a powerful hand. I had to play it wisely.
On entering parliament, I saw a camera crew and a crowd huddled around someone. It was Ian Paisley. To get in, I had to squeeze past him as he pontificated loquaciously. I resisted the temptation to slice my 5 inch heel into the ankle of the man who made the repression of Catholics his life’s endeavour. My head still reeling, I entered Westminster hall, only to find myself face to face with Gerry Conlon. There was a group of people with him, standing in the centre of the imposing hall. Mr. Conlon was talking on his mobile. The atmosphere was charged but I couldn’t tell if it was good or bad energy. Had Blair reneged? Had the irascible Paisley stolen their thunder? I hung around trying to glean what was happening. I wanted to reach out to Conlon and say…what? “Congratulations on finally having your name cleared after 30 years of wrongful incarceration and living purgatory”? Words escaped me, so I just hovered, and stared. I noticed them looking at me awkwardly then moving on.
I realized later how I must have appeared. Looking down on them, vexed at their raised, Irish voices. No doubt donning my default furrowed brow, dressed in power clothes and brief case, ceremonial armour for my dance with the devil. Being an Irish (ex) catholic myself I was racked with guilt. Not only had I failed to communicate my sorrow and anger at the injustice they endured, I had inadvertently driven them on and made them feel they had no right to be there.
1.55p.m. We were granted admittance to committee room 24. Great mahogany tables joined together in a large rectangle. There were rows of seats at the back also. On entering, I didn’t know if I should take a seat at the table or at the rear. Fellow gatherers procrastinated too. Not one to stand on ceremony, I took a seat at the table. Despite being a campaigning novice, I had no intention of fading into the background. I asked the guy who sat next to me who he represented, “the SLA”, he said, cautiously. I nodded politely while I processed what the initials stood for, then, turning to him for confirmation…. “So, you’re a rebel”? I said, trying to sound unfazed. He was indeed a rebel leader of the Sudanese Liberation Army. He was a soft spoken doctor who had taken a year off to see if he could do something to save his people from “extinction”. Black faces (most of whom were Sudanese refugees or asylum seekers) far outnumbered white and although they had more right to be there than anyone else, there was an incongruity with the officiousness of the surroundings. The men in dowdy woolen jumpers and makeshift “suits”, handouts from a charity shop. The women, more inclined to take up seats at the back, resigned to being voiceless, yet hoping desperately to be heard.
2.00p.m. Mr. Mullin graced us with his presence. The chairman announced we would have 45 minutes. The Sudanese looked on helplessly as Mullin erroneously portrayed their plight as “a civil war”, wherein all sides were equally culpable. In desperation, they searched the room for someone to speak up on their behalf. Someone to say that assertions of moral equivalence had been disproved and that the Sudanese government, with sophisticated weaponry, was found to be responsible for 97% of the violence. There were only two NGO representatives present, neither of whom did anything to hold Mullin to account.
The pomposity and sterile politeness of the proceedings mocked the gravity of the crime we were there to discuss. The pain was palpable. A white politician continued reading and signing documents throughout. I wondered why she bothered coming. The room was full of people who had been tortured and tormented in a way that I can only imagine, for the crime of being black Africans. Now, in this their space, they were so intimidated by the portentousness of the occasion that they cowered silently, lest they inadvertently break the unwritten rules, thus being banished from the gathering. So grateful to be granted a seat at the same table as the man with the power to save them. Mr. Mullin.
2.30p.m. The Sudanese ambassador arrived. He took a seat at the top table. Despite the Sudanese government being accused of genocide, Mullin greeted him as though he was Nelson Mandela. The ambassador proceeded to hijack the proceedings by squandering the last precious moments of time with a propaganda speech, designed to intimidate. Furious, I held my hand up to speak. When ignored I spoke anyway, despite my stomach being tied in knots of barbed wire. The ambassador spoke over me, playing the status/bully card. Keeping my gaze firmly on Mullin, I ignored the ambassador and kept talking.
I reminded Mullin what a momentous day it was. That Tony Blair would apologise to the Guildford Four and the Maguire Seven (though lamentably, not the Birmingham Six). I told attendees that Mr. Mullin had played no small part in rectifying the injustices visited upon these people. I said that Mullin’s courageous and relentless campaign for the release of the Birmingham Six had influenced the other two cases. Desperate not to waste this opportunity I leant forward, stretched my hands across the table and beseeched Mullin not to let his admirable record be mired by the blood of black Africans in Darfur. For a moment there was a glimmer of compassion in his eyes, but it was fleeting. He smiled, thanked us and left. Exactly 45 minutes after he arrived.
Sometime in May 2005: Chris Mullin was sacked. I wondered whether he regretted selling his soul only to be unceremoniously dumped anyway.
July 2013: Ten years on and an estimated 500,000 Darfuris have been slaughtered and approximately 3m forced off their land into refugee camps. A decade later and the political elite, together with the media, still turn a blind eye to the genocide in Darfur. What Mr. Mullin et al don’t get is that their legacy is judged by what they did, or neglected to do, while holding the reins of power, not by the selective, deluded and oft fictitious “diaries” produced after the event.
Thursday, 11 July 2013
Porn on the High Street? It's Just a Bit of Harmless Fun!
This piece has been published in the Huffington Post. The article will be uploaded in the "Press" section of my website www.tessfinchlees.com in the next few days (or type the title into a search engine). It includes the picture I took of the "Loaded" T-shirt (has to be seen to be believed!).
Hurrah for post feminism. For the uninitiated, this simply means that women now enjoy the luxury of choice. Whereas 1970’s feminists fought for equality, over time women have come to accept this for the misguided, militant ideology that it is. Choice is where it’s at.
So, when I stumbled upon a pornographic T-shirt on the high street of a sleepy Welsh town, whilst out with my 5 year old, I had a choice. Do I buy it to wear to the school fete (demonstrating my post feminist, “porn is empowering” enlightenment) or do I feign feminist righteousness for a laugh? I have previously stated the case for gender inequality so it’s not like I object to the wholesale degradation of women perse.
I left my oblivious 5 year old outside to play with the traffic (what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger) and decided to feign feminist outrage. As I opened the door, I expected to be greeted by an atavistic old geezer in open neck trousers with a gold medallion dangling from his thick set neck. Instead, I found 2 women sitting behind the counter. One was in her forties, the other in her teens. They both looked up from their magazines, Zoo and Good Housekeeping respectively.
When they asked if there was anything I was after I said. “A bit of respect would be nice”. Blank faces. “Have you any idea how offensive that T-shirt is?” “What T-shirt?” they asked in unison. “How many rape inciting T-Shirts have you got? The one with the naked woman with a honey pot between her splayed legs with the caption “GET IN!”. They were both speechless. I was on a roll, “I feel like I’ve just been violated”.
My impromptu anthropological experiment unearthed the realisation that neither of these women even noticed the T-shirt (which featured a cover from Loaded magazine). So prevalent are demeaning images of women, portraying them as inanimate sex objects that we’ve become immune to them. A victory for post feminism which recognises that the young woman with the (toxic) silicone boobs, made an informed choice about how she should be represented. It was her choice to be on the cover of a lad rag and, even if she didn’t choose to be draped on a hanger and hung from the crotch of a male dummy, she should be glad of the exposure, frankly.
She will also have chosen her outfit for the day (being naked). It was no doubt her choice to put a honey pot between her legs which then inspired her classy choice of caption “GET IN”. Think how empowering those choices were for this woman and then stop with the feminist outrage already.
Having time on my hands between PTA engagements and knitting orgasms, I called the Equality & Human Rights Commission (EHRC) to see what they made of porn window displays. Don’t be fooled by the name. It’s just a front to lure you into a false sense of there being an institution out there that gives a damn. In reality the government has cut back on Human Rights in order to subsidise the Commons Bar. Needs must. So, the EHRC has been outsourced to a call centre in Misery-on-Sea, where someone called Daphne dispenses “advice”.
Because Equality legislation is so extensive, the government has given Daphne a catch all phrase to cover all queries, “The legislation is vague so don’t bother making a fuss”. She tries to pawn me off but I persist. “It’s definitely covered by the Equality Act 2010. Goods and services I believe?” I’m put on hold while she calls her gran who agrees, it’s as vague as a post botox celebrity expression.
So immersed was I in my role that I protested my right as a woman not to be bombarded by demeaning, offensive, discriminatory imagery. My right as a parent for my child not to be exposed to pornographic images of women when out for a walk on the high street. Why should people, including men, be forced to avoid their high street in order to escape porn?
My parting words to Daphne were, “If your interpretation of the law is that it’s OK for porn to be displayed in high street shops then there’s something wrong with the Equality Act. If I accept your “advice” it means I accept that the mainstream pornification of women is normal and I refuse to accept that”.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not actually a feminist. Unless your name is Germaine Greer, feminism is career limiting. With a son to put through Eton (assuming he survives the traffic) I can’t afford to be principled.
www.tessfinchlees.com
Hurrah for post feminism. For the uninitiated, this simply means that women now enjoy the luxury of choice. Whereas 1970’s feminists fought for equality, over time women have come to accept this for the misguided, militant ideology that it is. Choice is where it’s at.
So, when I stumbled upon a pornographic T-shirt on the high street of a sleepy Welsh town, whilst out with my 5 year old, I had a choice. Do I buy it to wear to the school fete (demonstrating my post feminist, “porn is empowering” enlightenment) or do I feign feminist righteousness for a laugh? I have previously stated the case for gender inequality so it’s not like I object to the wholesale degradation of women perse.
I left my oblivious 5 year old outside to play with the traffic (what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger) and decided to feign feminist outrage. As I opened the door, I expected to be greeted by an atavistic old geezer in open neck trousers with a gold medallion dangling from his thick set neck. Instead, I found 2 women sitting behind the counter. One was in her forties, the other in her teens. They both looked up from their magazines, Zoo and Good Housekeeping respectively.
When they asked if there was anything I was after I said. “A bit of respect would be nice”. Blank faces. “Have you any idea how offensive that T-shirt is?” “What T-shirt?” they asked in unison. “How many rape inciting T-Shirts have you got? The one with the naked woman with a honey pot between her splayed legs with the caption “GET IN!”. They were both speechless. I was on a roll, “I feel like I’ve just been violated”.
My impromptu anthropological experiment unearthed the realisation that neither of these women even noticed the T-shirt (which featured a cover from Loaded magazine). So prevalent are demeaning images of women, portraying them as inanimate sex objects that we’ve become immune to them. A victory for post feminism which recognises that the young woman with the (toxic) silicone boobs, made an informed choice about how she should be represented. It was her choice to be on the cover of a lad rag and, even if she didn’t choose to be draped on a hanger and hung from the crotch of a male dummy, she should be glad of the exposure, frankly.
She will also have chosen her outfit for the day (being naked). It was no doubt her choice to put a honey pot between her legs which then inspired her classy choice of caption “GET IN”. Think how empowering those choices were for this woman and then stop with the feminist outrage already.
Having time on my hands between PTA engagements and knitting orgasms, I called the Equality & Human Rights Commission (EHRC) to see what they made of porn window displays. Don’t be fooled by the name. It’s just a front to lure you into a false sense of there being an institution out there that gives a damn. In reality the government has cut back on Human Rights in order to subsidise the Commons Bar. Needs must. So, the EHRC has been outsourced to a call centre in Misery-on-Sea, where someone called Daphne dispenses “advice”.
Because Equality legislation is so extensive, the government has given Daphne a catch all phrase to cover all queries, “The legislation is vague so don’t bother making a fuss”. She tries to pawn me off but I persist. “It’s definitely covered by the Equality Act 2010. Goods and services I believe?” I’m put on hold while she calls her gran who agrees, it’s as vague as a post botox celebrity expression.
So immersed was I in my role that I protested my right as a woman not to be bombarded by demeaning, offensive, discriminatory imagery. My right as a parent for my child not to be exposed to pornographic images of women when out for a walk on the high street. Why should people, including men, be forced to avoid their high street in order to escape porn?
My parting words to Daphne were, “If your interpretation of the law is that it’s OK for porn to be displayed in high street shops then there’s something wrong with the Equality Act. If I accept your “advice” it means I accept that the mainstream pornification of women is normal and I refuse to accept that”.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not actually a feminist. Unless your name is Germaine Greer, feminism is career limiting. With a son to put through Eton (assuming he survives the traffic) I can’t afford to be principled.
www.tessfinchlees.com
Sunday, 30 June 2013
No More Get Out of Jail Cards for The Met. The Lawrence Family Has Suffered Enough.
This is the full version of a piece published in The Independent on Sunday today.
In 2006 I was hiding out in the toilets of The British Museum. The charity 100 Black Men had invited me to speak at one of their events and although my talk was about the genocide in Darfur, I was out of my comfort zone. In a crowd of 300, mine was the only white face.
I retreated to the toilets to compose myself before speaking. Whilst gaining profound insights into how it must feel to always be the face that doesn’t fit, I heard voices outside my cubicle. An irate sounding young woman protested “What gives her the right to lecture us on Africa?” The voice of a soft spoken older woman replied “It took a lot of guts for her to come here. Let’s hear her out”. I flushed the loo and made my exit. Standing next to me at the washbasin was Doreen Lawrence.
We exchanged awkward smiles. Her eyes were laden with the palpable pain of a grieving mother. A mother whose son, Stephen, was murdered by a gang of racist thugs and whose family was denied justice for 20 years by a racist police service. This week the Lawrence family learned that the Metropolitan police had allegedly authorized an undercover operation in the mid nineties to smear their family and undermine their quest for justice.
In the wake of Stephen Lawrence’s murder, The Macpherson report found the police to be institutionally racist. There followed a series of awareness training throughout the Met. and progress was being made. Tragically, this started to unravel when the anti-racism initiatives were sabotaged by an ostensibly unlikely source. The then Commission for Racial Equality (CRE), which has since been amalgamated into the all encompassing, though equally inept, Equality and Human Rights Commission. A senior (white male) officer who had been working tirelessly to address issues raised in the Macpherson report, conveyed to me his dismay when Trevor Phillips, then chair of the CRE, told the Met board “It’s time to forget about institutional racism”. It went downhill from there.
Six years ago, the Metropolitan police realized it couldn’t deliver its primary objective, to “make London safer” unless it could attract a workforce that reflected one of the world’s most multicultural cities. With almost 40% of London’s population comprising of Black and Minority Ethnics (BME), a predominately white male police service couldn’t connect with the diverse community it purported to serve. It’s this disconnect and mistrust that led to the Broadwater Farm riots in 1985 (and the Tottenham riots in 2011).
On that premise, the Met instigated positive action for BME candidates (as opposed to positive discrimination) at recruitment level. The initiative failed because candidates were lured into a hostile environment. The black faces were expected to fit in with the established culture, one that continued to favour white men for promotion. The Met continues to hemorrhage black officers.
During that period I advised a Met commander that the initiative failed because it was at the wrong level. The culture disseminates from the top so that should be the focal point for change. Although the officer agreed, he didn’t put the proposal to the board.
Whilst I support Doreen Lawrence’s call for a public inquiry, the Channel 4 Dispatches programme that exposed the Met’s alleged attempt to smear her family, also uncovered a callous contempt for women. One of whom was targeted by an undercover officer for no apparent reason. She described her experience as being “raped by the state”. The Met is unsustainable without the confidence and respect of its community, 50% of which is female.
This crisis requires a complete cultural overhaul so that those that make the decisions are representative of the people over whom they wield so much power. The dearth of women and BME senior officers is no excuse for an all white board with one woman. With an elite group of just 8 the Met leadership could open itself up to “civilian” stakeholders, bringing a diversity of perspective and accountability.
This could be achieved by recruiting senior women and BMEs from non police staff within the Met, as well as tapping into the plethora of talent in the civil service (where women and minorities are better represented). The Ministry of Justice and The Department of Communities and Local Government, would be good places to start. There are no more get out of jail cards for the police. The public has run out of patience.
In 2006 I was hiding out in the toilets of The British Museum. The charity 100 Black Men had invited me to speak at one of their events and although my talk was about the genocide in Darfur, I was out of my comfort zone. In a crowd of 300, mine was the only white face.
I retreated to the toilets to compose myself before speaking. Whilst gaining profound insights into how it must feel to always be the face that doesn’t fit, I heard voices outside my cubicle. An irate sounding young woman protested “What gives her the right to lecture us on Africa?” The voice of a soft spoken older woman replied “It took a lot of guts for her to come here. Let’s hear her out”. I flushed the loo and made my exit. Standing next to me at the washbasin was Doreen Lawrence.
We exchanged awkward smiles. Her eyes were laden with the palpable pain of a grieving mother. A mother whose son, Stephen, was murdered by a gang of racist thugs and whose family was denied justice for 20 years by a racist police service. This week the Lawrence family learned that the Metropolitan police had allegedly authorized an undercover operation in the mid nineties to smear their family and undermine their quest for justice.
In the wake of Stephen Lawrence’s murder, The Macpherson report found the police to be institutionally racist. There followed a series of awareness training throughout the Met. and progress was being made. Tragically, this started to unravel when the anti-racism initiatives were sabotaged by an ostensibly unlikely source. The then Commission for Racial Equality (CRE), which has since been amalgamated into the all encompassing, though equally inept, Equality and Human Rights Commission. A senior (white male) officer who had been working tirelessly to address issues raised in the Macpherson report, conveyed to me his dismay when Trevor Phillips, then chair of the CRE, told the Met board “It’s time to forget about institutional racism”. It went downhill from there.
Six years ago, the Metropolitan police realized it couldn’t deliver its primary objective, to “make London safer” unless it could attract a workforce that reflected one of the world’s most multicultural cities. With almost 40% of London’s population comprising of Black and Minority Ethnics (BME), a predominately white male police service couldn’t connect with the diverse community it purported to serve. It’s this disconnect and mistrust that led to the Broadwater Farm riots in 1985 (and the Tottenham riots in 2011).
On that premise, the Met instigated positive action for BME candidates (as opposed to positive discrimination) at recruitment level. The initiative failed because candidates were lured into a hostile environment. The black faces were expected to fit in with the established culture, one that continued to favour white men for promotion. The Met continues to hemorrhage black officers.
During that period I advised a Met commander that the initiative failed because it was at the wrong level. The culture disseminates from the top so that should be the focal point for change. Although the officer agreed, he didn’t put the proposal to the board.
Whilst I support Doreen Lawrence’s call for a public inquiry, the Channel 4 Dispatches programme that exposed the Met’s alleged attempt to smear her family, also uncovered a callous contempt for women. One of whom was targeted by an undercover officer for no apparent reason. She described her experience as being “raped by the state”. The Met is unsustainable without the confidence and respect of its community, 50% of which is female.
This crisis requires a complete cultural overhaul so that those that make the decisions are representative of the people over whom they wield so much power. The dearth of women and BME senior officers is no excuse for an all white board with one woman. With an elite group of just 8 the Met leadership could open itself up to “civilian” stakeholders, bringing a diversity of perspective and accountability.
This could be achieved by recruiting senior women and BMEs from non police staff within the Met, as well as tapping into the plethora of talent in the civil service (where women and minorities are better represented). The Ministry of Justice and The Department of Communities and Local Government, would be good places to start. There are no more get out of jail cards for the police. The public has run out of patience.
Friday, 21 June 2013
Global Financial Crisis Caused by Greedy, Incompetent Men. Who Knew?
This article published today can be found on The Huffington post website
http://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/../../tess-finchlees/banking-commission-financial-crisis_b_3477193.html
I once berated The Economist for its vapid political coverage complaining, If I wanted a magazine to airbrush the cracks I would buy Grazia. So when I found myself sitting beside a BP executive on a long haul flight, inane banter was never an option. Lowering my book (Stupid White Men by Michael Moore) I asked what he believed in. Without pausing he said “The free market” with an implied “doh”.
After vigorously disputing the myth that there’s anything free about the market, I asked whether he experienced ethical tensions between his role as father (information I gleaned earlier) and executive, such as explaining the BP Texas explosion in 2005. Although he said he was devastated about the loss of 15 lives, he was adamant that fatherhood had no place in the boardroom. “They don’t pay me s**t loads of money to be a father”. “No, they pay you s**t loads of money not to be”.
The Banking Commission recognised the role of avaricious bonuses, impunity and men in the global banking catastrophe. Its recommendations, published yesterday, are essential but I doubt George Osborne has the back bone to implement them. He has steadfastly resisted any caps on bankers’ bonuses and his tough talk on tax avoidance and havens is risible. Osborne will be remembered as the chancellor who robbed from the poor to give to the rich.
In his book, http://www.joelbakan.com/favicon.ico, Joel Bakan compares corporations to psychopaths, for whom people are purely a means to making profit. They employ sophisticated control mechanisms, such as excessive pay, to indoctrinate employees into compliance. In order to achieve their goal, conscience and wombs must be left at the door. History is littered with examples of how corporations put profits before people, with calamitous consequences.
The kind of talent Cameron fears losing when the EU bonus cap is implemented. Take Bob (the gem) Diamond, the man who [allegedly] turned Barclays into a casino, put gamblers anonymous in charge (metaphorically speaking) and gave them taxpayers’ money to play with. Recognising the long hours, often involving obligatory forays into lap dancing joints, the resultant expenses (Bollinger doesn’t come cheap), and the huge risks associated with gambling [other people’s] money, said talent is awarded bonuses that could buy several knighthoods and a racehorse (called Fat Cat in The Hat, for example).
At the height of the recession Diamond famously said “The time for remorse is over”. His apparent aversion to remorse was arguably his undoing. While his talent was being escorted out the back door, another star was entering the building. The recent appointment of Hector Sants, the ex CEO of the Financial Services Authority, who has been described as, “being asleep at the wheel at the time of the regulator’s most titanic failings”, to head of compliance, proves that failure (depending on gender) need not down grade your talent rating.
The Banking Commission also recognized that excluding women from positions of power is harmful to the economy. But this isn’t breaking news. In the wake of Enron, The Higgs report found that the old boys club was detrimental to the health of UK plc. Had anyone listened to the warnings then, the global financial crisis could have been averted. There’s a profusion of talented women (as opposed to the alpha females) out there with plenty of practice cleaning up after other people’s mess. They can’t do any worse.
In his book “Snakes in Suits: When Psychopaths Go to Work”, Dr. Robert Hare highlights the disproportionately higher percentage of people with psychopathic tendencies in positions of power. I’m not suggesting everyone in power (and definitely NOT those mentioned in this article) is a psychopath, but I am perturbed by the proclivity with which we reward dysfunctional behaviours.
Probably half of society’s psychopaths are incarcerated (the poor) while the other 1% (the rich) are more likely than people without psychopathic traits, to occupy powerful positions. Both groups are a danger to others (as opposed to themselves), the difference being that one is heavily medicated, the other is the lunatic in charge of the asylum.
George Osborne’s persistent failure to tackle the architects of the global financial crisis is morally reprehensible and staggeringly incompetent. Asking bankers to behave ethically is akin to asking Hannibal Lecter’s permission to be sectioned. How mad is that?
http://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/../../tess-finchlees/banking-commission-financial-crisis_b_3477193.html
I once berated The Economist for its vapid political coverage complaining, If I wanted a magazine to airbrush the cracks I would buy Grazia. So when I found myself sitting beside a BP executive on a long haul flight, inane banter was never an option. Lowering my book (Stupid White Men by Michael Moore) I asked what he believed in. Without pausing he said “The free market” with an implied “doh”.
After vigorously disputing the myth that there’s anything free about the market, I asked whether he experienced ethical tensions between his role as father (information I gleaned earlier) and executive, such as explaining the BP Texas explosion in 2005. Although he said he was devastated about the loss of 15 lives, he was adamant that fatherhood had no place in the boardroom. “They don’t pay me s**t loads of money to be a father”. “No, they pay you s**t loads of money not to be”.
The Banking Commission recognised the role of avaricious bonuses, impunity and men in the global banking catastrophe. Its recommendations, published yesterday, are essential but I doubt George Osborne has the back bone to implement them. He has steadfastly resisted any caps on bankers’ bonuses and his tough talk on tax avoidance and havens is risible. Osborne will be remembered as the chancellor who robbed from the poor to give to the rich.
In his book, http://www.joelbakan.com/favicon.ico, Joel Bakan compares corporations to psychopaths, for whom people are purely a means to making profit. They employ sophisticated control mechanisms, such as excessive pay, to indoctrinate employees into compliance. In order to achieve their goal, conscience and wombs must be left at the door. History is littered with examples of how corporations put profits before people, with calamitous consequences.
The kind of talent Cameron fears losing when the EU bonus cap is implemented. Take Bob (the gem) Diamond, the man who [allegedly] turned Barclays into a casino, put gamblers anonymous in charge (metaphorically speaking) and gave them taxpayers’ money to play with. Recognising the long hours, often involving obligatory forays into lap dancing joints, the resultant expenses (Bollinger doesn’t come cheap), and the huge risks associated with gambling [other people’s] money, said talent is awarded bonuses that could buy several knighthoods and a racehorse (called Fat Cat in The Hat, for example).
At the height of the recession Diamond famously said “The time for remorse is over”. His apparent aversion to remorse was arguably his undoing. While his talent was being escorted out the back door, another star was entering the building. The recent appointment of Hector Sants, the ex CEO of the Financial Services Authority, who has been described as, “being asleep at the wheel at the time of the regulator’s most titanic failings”, to head of compliance, proves that failure (depending on gender) need not down grade your talent rating.
The Banking Commission also recognized that excluding women from positions of power is harmful to the economy. But this isn’t breaking news. In the wake of Enron, The Higgs report found that the old boys club was detrimental to the health of UK plc. Had anyone listened to the warnings then, the global financial crisis could have been averted. There’s a profusion of talented women (as opposed to the alpha females) out there with plenty of practice cleaning up after other people’s mess. They can’t do any worse.
In his book “Snakes in Suits: When Psychopaths Go to Work”, Dr. Robert Hare highlights the disproportionately higher percentage of people with psychopathic tendencies in positions of power. I’m not suggesting everyone in power (and definitely NOT those mentioned in this article) is a psychopath, but I am perturbed by the proclivity with which we reward dysfunctional behaviours.
Probably half of society’s psychopaths are incarcerated (the poor) while the other 1% (the rich) are more likely than people without psychopathic traits, to occupy powerful positions. Both groups are a danger to others (as opposed to themselves), the difference being that one is heavily medicated, the other is the lunatic in charge of the asylum.
George Osborne’s persistent failure to tackle the architects of the global financial crisis is morally reprehensible and staggeringly incompetent. Asking bankers to behave ethically is akin to asking Hannibal Lecter’s permission to be sectioned. How mad is that?
Wednesday, 12 June 2013
Women Should Embrace Inequality, Not Fight It.
This article was published in todays Independent.
If I never hear the word “suffragette” again, it’ll be too soon. Last weeks media fest was tiresome. Fortunately, this week it’s business as usual with women fading into their rightful place. The background.
A couple of years ago I cringed as I watched my toddler grab a toy from a similar aged girl in playgroup. Supernanny would advocate that I intercept my son, “encourage” him to return said toy and teach him the virtues of sharing. I wrestled with this one and on balance I decided that, whilst sharing is a valuable life skill, it’s gender specific.
After all, when that girl (with princess emblazoned across her chest) grows up, there won’t be a knight in shining armour to fight her battles for her. If my son snatches a coveted promotion from under her nose while she’s on maternity leave, she’ll have to find the time and energy to snatch it back, all by herself. If she persists she’ll be labelled a trouble maker and will face a tribunal, whereupon an all male panel will preside as judge and jury. Because there’s no class action in the UK, she’ll have to re-mortgage her house to pay for the court case (assuming she can get a lawyer to represent her), the strain of which will have caused her marriage to collapse, resulting in a nervous breakdown and the baby being taken into care.
A responsible parent would teach their daughters not to resist the inevitable. Why not give them less pocket money than their sons? I realize now that, if you’re a parent, equal pay only matters if you have a daughter. As things stand, the odds are stacked in favour of my son. He only needs to achieve average grades to get paid up to double that of a more qualified female graduate. If he marries one and has children it will be her (she’ll be less paid) who stops working. Fulfilling society’s expectation of him as breadwinner, he’ll be free to network, work long hours and get noticed (she’ll be working ‘round the clock for no pay and no-one will notice). His route to world domination need not be derailed by fatherhood.
So why should I take on someone else’s battle? What with sourcing Mini Boden outfits and block booking Monkey Music, it’s all I can do to lift a glass of Chardonnay before unwinding in front of Loose Women. With few exceptions, women who make it to the top are unlikely to have done so by challenging the status quo. Parliament, business and the media, is awash with women willing to demonstrate their masculine credentials. Rebecca Brooke didn’t get where she is today (unemployed and in the dock) by tackling sexism (see p.3) in the Sun. Until there are sufficient numbers of women in top jobs to make a difference, my boy’s future is safe.
The vacuum created by the absence of a feminist movement in the last 4 decades has enabled the proliferation of the sexualisation of girls. Everywhere we look there are images of women with splayed legs and surgically enhanced boobs. A cursory glance at M&S share price is enough to warrant a full page spread of a woman in her knickers.
Its little wonder 60% of teenage girls aspire to be “glamour” models, like Jordan. The woman who thinks Silicone Valley is the place to go for breast implants. Soft porn models are ubiquitous. Women who dare to make a bid for power, using their minds instead of their bodies, such as Mary Beard, however, are either invisible or pilloried by the press. Another victory for the boys.
Despite the fact that it is men’s reckless incompetence at the highest level that has brought the global economy to its knees, still we don’t question their merit. In 2008, a male journalist made a compelling case as to why men were to blame for the recession. No-one has heard from him since. Rumour has it he’s in witness protection and writes verses for Hallmark.
The bottom line is, when my son takes his rightful place (s) at the top table (s) of power, be it as media mogul, corporate giant or political behemoth, even if he did fail (through no fault of his own, obviously), his contract will contain so many get out of jail cards he’ll be laughing all the way to the bank, where he’ll take out enough money to buy a peerage and live happily ever after on the Costa del Tax Haven.
As long as our daughters aspire to be princesses rather than politicians, and the closest thing we have to feminist literature is Heat Magazine, men will continue to ride roughshod over women. If I had a daughter I’d be throwing myself in front of the Queen’s Corgis, but I don’t, so I’m off to the hairdressers instead.
If I never hear the word “suffragette” again, it’ll be too soon. Last weeks media fest was tiresome. Fortunately, this week it’s business as usual with women fading into their rightful place. The background.
A couple of years ago I cringed as I watched my toddler grab a toy from a similar aged girl in playgroup. Supernanny would advocate that I intercept my son, “encourage” him to return said toy and teach him the virtues of sharing. I wrestled with this one and on balance I decided that, whilst sharing is a valuable life skill, it’s gender specific.
After all, when that girl (with princess emblazoned across her chest) grows up, there won’t be a knight in shining armour to fight her battles for her. If my son snatches a coveted promotion from under her nose while she’s on maternity leave, she’ll have to find the time and energy to snatch it back, all by herself. If she persists she’ll be labelled a trouble maker and will face a tribunal, whereupon an all male panel will preside as judge and jury. Because there’s no class action in the UK, she’ll have to re-mortgage her house to pay for the court case (assuming she can get a lawyer to represent her), the strain of which will have caused her marriage to collapse, resulting in a nervous breakdown and the baby being taken into care.
A responsible parent would teach their daughters not to resist the inevitable. Why not give them less pocket money than their sons? I realize now that, if you’re a parent, equal pay only matters if you have a daughter. As things stand, the odds are stacked in favour of my son. He only needs to achieve average grades to get paid up to double that of a more qualified female graduate. If he marries one and has children it will be her (she’ll be less paid) who stops working. Fulfilling society’s expectation of him as breadwinner, he’ll be free to network, work long hours and get noticed (she’ll be working ‘round the clock for no pay and no-one will notice). His route to world domination need not be derailed by fatherhood.
So why should I take on someone else’s battle? What with sourcing Mini Boden outfits and block booking Monkey Music, it’s all I can do to lift a glass of Chardonnay before unwinding in front of Loose Women. With few exceptions, women who make it to the top are unlikely to have done so by challenging the status quo. Parliament, business and the media, is awash with women willing to demonstrate their masculine credentials. Rebecca Brooke didn’t get where she is today (unemployed and in the dock) by tackling sexism (see p.3) in the Sun. Until there are sufficient numbers of women in top jobs to make a difference, my boy’s future is safe.
The vacuum created by the absence of a feminist movement in the last 4 decades has enabled the proliferation of the sexualisation of girls. Everywhere we look there are images of women with splayed legs and surgically enhanced boobs. A cursory glance at M&S share price is enough to warrant a full page spread of a woman in her knickers.
Its little wonder 60% of teenage girls aspire to be “glamour” models, like Jordan. The woman who thinks Silicone Valley is the place to go for breast implants. Soft porn models are ubiquitous. Women who dare to make a bid for power, using their minds instead of their bodies, such as Mary Beard, however, are either invisible or pilloried by the press. Another victory for the boys.
Despite the fact that it is men’s reckless incompetence at the highest level that has brought the global economy to its knees, still we don’t question their merit. In 2008, a male journalist made a compelling case as to why men were to blame for the recession. No-one has heard from him since. Rumour has it he’s in witness protection and writes verses for Hallmark.
The bottom line is, when my son takes his rightful place (s) at the top table (s) of power, be it as media mogul, corporate giant or political behemoth, even if he did fail (through no fault of his own, obviously), his contract will contain so many get out of jail cards he’ll be laughing all the way to the bank, where he’ll take out enough money to buy a peerage and live happily ever after on the Costa del Tax Haven.
As long as our daughters aspire to be princesses rather than politicians, and the closest thing we have to feminist literature is Heat Magazine, men will continue to ride roughshod over women. If I had a daughter I’d be throwing myself in front of the Queen’s Corgis, but I don’t, so I’m off to the hairdressers instead.
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