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The Cretan Glance

Odyssey: A modern sequelThis was somethign that i sent to a bunch of friends in email some time ago, but has stayed with me. It is part of the Introduction to Nikos Kazantzakis‘s The Odyssey: A Modern Sequel, translated by Kimon Friar. Being a huge fan of Kaztzakis after reading his famous and controversial “The Last temptation of Christ”, and “Saint Francis of Assissi” you can imagine my joy when i found an old version of the Modern Odyssey at Elliot’s Bookshop, back in Toronto. I bought, and never read it. I decided sometime ago to find give it a shot, and i was reading the introduction when i came across this, which truly struck me.
i will apologize ahead of time, for the lengh of this, and i realize that you may very well not really even read the whole thing, but that’s alright. i dont mind. I took immense pleasure in it today, and i just wanted to share it.
All emphases are added by me, and i’ve occasionally inserted comments in the brackets and in green[ ].
kazantzakis“a man, writes Kazantzakis, has three duties. His firs tduty is to the mind which imposes order on disordr, formulates laws, builds bridges over th unfathomable abyss, and sets up rational boundaris beyond which man does not dare go. But his second duty is to the heart, which admits of no boundaries, which years to pierce beyond phenomena and to merge with somethign eyond mind and matter. His thrid duty is to free himself from both mind and heart, from the great temptation of the hope which both offer of subduing phenomena or of finding the essence of things.
A man must then embrace the annihilating abyss without any hope, he must say taht nothing exists, neither life nor death, and must accpt this necessity bravely, with exultation and song [how lovely ]. he may then build the affirmative structure of his life over this abyss in an ecstasy of tragic joy [ lovely and tempting]
A man is now prepared to undertake a pilgrimmage of four stages. At the start of his journey he hears an agonized cry within him shouting for hlep. his first stepe is to plunge into his own ego until he discovers that it is the endangered spirit (or “god”) locked within each man that is crying out for liberation. In order to fre it, each man must consdier himself solely responsible for the salvation fo the world, because
when a man dies, that aspect of the universe which is his own particular vision and the unique play of his mind also crashes in ruins forever
[how beautiful, anthropocentric and narcissistic].
In the second step, a man must plunge beyond his ego and into his racial origins; yet among his forefathers he must choose only those who can help him towards greater refinement of spirit, taht h may in turn pass on his task to a son whomay also surpass him. The thrid step for a man is to plunge beyond his own particular race into the races of all mankind and to suffer their composite agony in the struggle to liberate God within themselves. The fourth step is to plunge beyond mankind and to become identified with all the universe, with animat and inanimate matter, with earth, stones, sea, plants, … with the vital impulse of creation in all phenomena. Each man is a fathomless composit of atavistic roots plunging down to the primordial origin of things. A man is now prepared to go beyond the mind, the hart, and hope, beyond his ego, his race, and mankind even, beyond all phenomena and plunge further into a vision of the Invisible permeating all thigns and forevr ascending [sounds almost oriental/eastern in its implications, doesn't it?]
The essence of the invisible is an agonized ascent toward more adn more purity of spirit, toward light. The goal is the struggle itself, since the ascent is endless.
God is not a perfect being towards whcih man proceeds, but a spiritual concept which evolves toward purity as man himself evolves on earth. he not Almighty, for he is in constant danger, filled with wounds, struggling to survive; he is not All-holy, for he is pitilss int h cruel choice he makes to survive, caring entiher for men nor animals, neither for vitues nor ideas, but making use of them all in an attempt to pass through them and shake himself free [my note: doesn't this almost seems like a personification or humanization of some eastern beliefs? not to mention 'natural law'] he is not All-knowing, for his head is a confused jumble of dark and light. he cries out to man for help because man is his highest spiritual reach in teh present stage of his evolution. he cannot be saved unless man tries to sav him by struggling with him, nor can man be saved unless God is saved. On the whole, it is rather man who must save God [how beautiful....]. …
…The essence of God is to find freedom, salvation. Our duty is to aid him in this ascent, and to save ourselves at last from our final hope of slavation, to say to ourselves at last that not even salvation exists, and to accept this with tragic joy [so much contradiction, so lovely]. Love is the force which urgs us on and which descend on us as a dance, a rhythm. Injustice, cruelty, longing, hunger and war are laders that push us on. God is never created out of happiness and comfort, but out of tragedy and strife [wouldn't nietzsche be proud?].
The greatest virtue is not to be fre, but to struggle ceaselessly for freedom [i can't help shaking off the feeling that there is far more latent in that, than is evident on the surface] ….
….Nietzsche confirmed him in his predilection for the Dionysian….vision of life: ….of ascending life, of joy in action , of eecstatic motion and inpsiration, of instinct and adventure and daungless suffering, the god of song and music and dance; as opposed to Apollo, the god of peace, of leisure and repose, of aesthetic emotion and intellectual contemplation, of logical order and philosophical calm, the god of painting and sculpture and epic poetry. … however, that though this was for him a predilection and a biased emphasis, it was not at alll a rejection, but rather an assimilation of hte Apollonian vision of life.
…. he then recounts how Dionysus came out of India clad in multicoloured silks, laden with bracelets and rings, his eyes ringed with black, his fingernails painted crimson. But as the god proceeded into Greece, his adornments fell from him on by one until he stood naked on a hill at Eleusis. Dionysus, the god of ecstatic and visionary drunkenness, had turned into apollo, the god of srence beauty. such, wrote Kazanzakis, is the progress is of art. Ultimately kazantzakis wished to combine the two in what he called the ‘Cretan Glance’. [more on that in a second]
kazantzakis also took the exaltation of tragedy as the joy of life, a certain ‘tragic optimism’ of the strong man who delights to discover that strife is the pervading law of life, the ‘melancholy joy’ which Wagner discerned in the last quartets of Beethoven [the pleasure of paper-cuts some might even dare say].
Henri Bergson…For Kazantzakis, as for Bergson, intuition (allied to instinct) is a more penetrating and more Dionysian vision which seks the essence of things, but both based their ultimate hop on the itellect which, as it growns stronger and bolder in evolutionary growth, sems to embody best the highest forms through whcih the elan vital may find its supreeme expression. …. Kazantzakis writes: ‘they ar no successive degrees of evoltuion, they are simply direction whcih the same fermentation took. Difference of quality and not of quantity exists between instinct and intellect. Instinct knows things, intellect the relationship between things. Both are cognitive faculties … intution has the advantage of entering into the very essence of life, of feeling its movement, its creation. But it has one great disadvantage: it cannot express itself.’ Language is an instrument of the intellect. That philosophy which wants to interpret experienc and to understand the essence of things cannot do it with the intellect alone. ‘intellect must therfore work hand in hand with instinct. Only the intellect, says Bergson, can seek to solve some prlbems, though it will never solves them; only the instinct can solve htem, though it will never seek them……
‘Life’, write kazantzakis stressing his words by underlining them, ‘is what inspiration is to a poem.
Words obstruct the flow of inspiration, but nevertheless they exprss it as best they can. Only the humanintellect can dissect words, sor unite them, or delineate them grammatically; but if we are to comprehend the poem, something else is needed; w must plunge into its heart, we must live in its inspiration, …. only then may the words lose their rigidity and inflxibility or may the current rush on its way once more ….
Like all poets, Kazantzakis is not much a sytematic Philosopher as one who, reachign out the tentacles of his mind and spirit, and garsping whatever might bring him nourishmnt, sucks up all into the third inner eye of vision peculiar to himself alone, and moves the reader with an imaginative view of life so intense as to be, in truth, a new apprehnsion. Basic to all of Kazantzakis‘ visions, as to that of Yeats, has been the attempt to synthesize waht seems to be contraries, antithess, antinomies. [talking about the Cretan Glance] this eye, this glance, between teh eye of the Orient (or Dionysus, who came from India or Asia Minor) and the ye of the Hellenic Greece (or Apollo_, Kazanzatkis called the Cretan Glance.
He make two distinctions between Greec and teh Orint. the chief characteristic of Greece is to erect the secur fortress of the ego, th fixed outline which subdues diorderly drivs and primivite demons to the dictates of the enlightened and disciplined will. the supreme ideal of greec is to save the ego from anarchy and chaos. The supreme ideal of the orient is to dissolve the ego into the infinite and to become one with it. He writes: ‘odysseus does not, like th greeks, cast a veil over chaos, for he prefers, instead, to keep a sleepless vigil and to increase his strength by gazing into it; yet he never abandonshimself to chaos, for on the contrary, until the very last moment, when Death appears, he stands erct before chaos and looks upon it with undimmed eyes.’ This attitude toward life and death is not Greek, nor is it Oriental.
He then goes on to trace the origins of his ‘cretan glance’: the cretan bull-fights has no relation to thos of modern spain. [i found this final passage very beautiful] The cretans confronted the Bull – the Titan-Earthquake- without fear, with undimmed eys, nor killed him in order to unite with him (the orient) or to be released from his presence (Greece), but played with him at their ease. “this direct contact with the bull honed the strength of the cretan, cultivated the flxibility and charm of his body, th flaming yet cool exactness of movement, the discipline of desire, and the hard-won virility to measure himself agaisnt the dark and powerful bull-titan. And thus the cretan transformed terror into a high game wherein man’s virtue, in a dierct contact with the beast, became tempered, and triumphed. The Cretan triumphed without killing the abominable bull because he did not think of it as an enemy but as a collaborator; without it his body would not have become so strong and charming or his spirit so manly. Of course, to endure and to play such a dangrous game, one needs great bodily and spiritual training and a sleepless discipline of nerves; but if a man once trains himself an becomes skillful in teh game, then evryone of his movements bcomes simple, certain, and graceful. The heroic and playful eyes, without hope yet without fear, which so confront the bull, the abyss, i call the cretan glance”

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Francis Bacon’s Triptych

I’m standing, finally, before the Triptych. It is perhaps odd that such a hideous and anxious set of imagery should be an identifying feature and hallmark, for potentially my greatest joy.

When I first saw the image, several weeks ago, on my computer screen, it was new, and it startled me. It made me feel empty in the pit of my stomach. Standing before it now, in its full size, is worse. I wish there were no other people. Empty with just me.

I do wonder about what makes me want to keep staring at it however. There is a pleasure I get from the horror of it. A pleasure from the claustrophobic blood, and feeling of being in a veritable nightmare.

There is not a single part of the image which does not contribute to the general sense of nightmare, horror and anxiety. It is not a horror or anxiety borne out of a fear of survival, or imminent danger. But rather something growing out of hopelessness, decay, deformation, being in the presence of a monster that will not kill you, but rather disgust you.

The downward bend of the neck, bending perhaps under the weight of … i dont know what. The teeth, oh! the teeth. Is it laughing? Is it mocking me? Is it baring its teeth as its sole defence?

The red stripe, is like a red carpet, there with the sole intention of featuring the hideous monster, mocking him before the audience … us who stare with unsatiable appetites.

“Come one, come all. Ladies and Gentlemen, stare at the star of the show: the hideous, formless monster”

Is it in pain? Or is it not even capable of pain? Or perhaps that is the only thing that it can feel?

Waht if .. what if it is look in a mirro? what if, he too is fascinated by his hideous form? Unable to take its absent eyes ooff its own shapeless mass … those blood-red lips … in that abnormally small hand pale ‘face.

On each side two other deformed entities, one screaming silently …. perhaps jeering … the other much more resigned to its hideous existence, only stare on, perhaps even feelign pity for the Monster-on-display.

Is this how Bacon saw himself? or is it how he saw everyone? We all do have our hideous side, and are we not, in some perverted way, fascinated with it? With its dark formless creations and desires? Maybe I can’t stop staring at this nightmarish scene, for the same reason taht i couldn’t stop reading Notes from Underground">Notes from Underground, because Dostoyevski too perhaps was presenting me with the monster in my basement, and i found it fascinating in teh same perverse way. Are all like that … or is it just me?

I cannot help but find it odd that I should have the association with this image that I do. And yet at the same time ….


This was an excerpt from my Ireland-England 2007 Travel Diary. The paintings are by the Irish painter, Francis Bacon. While i can claim a certain connexion with music, and a limited one with Sculpture, I am very uncultured when it comes to painting, and most of all contemporary and modern art. This mostly is due to my own dogmatic and close-minded approach and rejection of modernism and post-modernism. However, that is changing. I was introduced to Bacon, and specifically by a very dear friend several months ago, and it touched me on a very deep level. It fascinated me. Just as my rejection of modern non-rhyming poetry was shattered some years ago, when i opened my mind, i feel the same is happenign towards modern, and post-modern art. Anyways, when she showed me the central piece of the Triptych, i was so completely overwhelmed by it and emotionally struck, that i was determined to understand this. So when i was in Cambridge, I forced Jai to come with me to London one of the nights, and we headed for the Tate Modern, where this painting finds its home. I arrived there 30 minutes before closing time. So i sat myself on the ground in front of this painting for those 30 minutes until the ushers, ushered me out. It was an incredible experience.

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At the Gates of the Underworld

Little red dragonflies are flying back and forth harmlessly all around me, engaged in seriously in their own business. The water undulates serenely. The white goose stands on the ledge at the edge of the water. Calmly, he looks around, takes a couple of paces back and forth and then returns to the edge. He looks down in the water. Another goose, this one with black spots on its body is in the water. At first glance he looks like he is eating or searching food, with its head under the water. But he’s not. He’s dead. Caught between a rock and the edge of the lake, his body is moving freely to the rhythm of the water. It is Death, in its purest, most natural form. Not ugly, nor beautiful, but something transcending these insufficient mundane and manmade descriptions.

The dominant sound is the wind blowing through the branches and leaves of the trees. In the distance, birds chirping, or a duck quacking. The red dragonflies continue to buzz around, oblivious to the events around them, oblivious to all but their own mysterious business. The white goose, still not uttering a sound, looks up, walks a few steps away, and then comes back again. Once more he looks down at his fallen comrade. A gust of wind shakes the leaves, and pushes some of the dragonflies out of their way. But they don’t seem to mind; they readjust and continue on. A troop of ducks is in the middle of the lake, swimming around leisurely without any particular aim. The dead goose continues to bob up and down in the shallow water, and his companion continues to stand guard.

Several minutes pass. The air and the water, and the creatures go on as before. Only the white goose seems to be aware. Only the white goose seems to care about the dead body floating at his feet. But he keeps silent. He occasionally looks down at his fallen mate, staring for several seconds and then back up again. What is he thinking? I know he realises what has happened. I can see it in the eyes. There is concern there, perhaps. But each time he looks up, his regard contains a sense of determination and acceptance. And then he goes on with his silent vigil, pacing wordlessly, soundlessly, and faithfully. The loyal goose then looks and stares in the distance, as though waiting for something. What he awaits, I shall never know, save perhaps at The End. He then lowers his head, looks at the fallen brother and resumes his silent, calm vigil. Which he will undoubtedly continue for as long as it takes.


How ironic, or perhaps rather fitting all the events on this trip have been. From a postman named Antonio telling us about the “Il Postino” connexion of the lovely island of Procida, to the young man Arcangelo appearing nearly out of nowhere only to guide us to the Solfaterra and now the Lago Averno, it seems that no event has been without its due sense of irony and fittingness. So now why should I be surprised at finding such a beautiful scene of Death and Life, at this lake, where in ancient times it was believed that the entrance to Hades, the underworld, the Land of the Dead was located. The poignancy of the scene, its simplicity and naturalness has utterly stunned me.

Nature or rather Life itself offers us lessons at every turn it seems. So much to learns from these geese. The acceptance of Death – and by consequence the acceptance of Life. The acceptance of the passage as a normal and permanent part of life. The ever present spectre of impermanence, the all permeating notion of transience, in every single aspect of existence. That goose knows that his comrade is dead. He knows it. And he accepts it. He does not go into denial, does not cry and beat itself physically or emotionally. He accepts because he has to. Because it is a part of existence. Because he knows – even if it may subconsciously or innately – that life moves along lines which none can see. And he accepts that, and yet he will stand by the side of his fallen friend.

Our resistance in accepting death, especially of loved ones, is borne out of our own selfishness. We mourn because it is us who are deprived of the presence of the departed. What would life be without death? Nothing. How can we try and separate the two when they are two sides of the same coin? Can we enter a room without leaving another?


The dead bird lies there as lifeless as ever. The companion stands guard as loyally as ever, not a sound being uttered. He will eventually leave. And he too will eventually die. And the sun will continue to shine donw. The red dragonflies will continue to buzz around attending their mysterious business as seriously as ever, and the wind will continue to blow over the lake and shake the leaves in the trees.


This was an excerpt from my Italy Travel Diary from this past summer. It was the penultimate day and we had just arrived at the Lago Averno, by a most tortuous and misguided of paths, dead tired and hungry, only to find the place utterly deserted. We hopped a fence, and my two companions collapsed on the ground and fell asleep upset in the midday sun (the photos are all courtesy of various – generous – people on the web)

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european union I

Discourse on the European Union constitution: Part I

As promised, and at my request, Anne-Laure has written a very nice and comprehensive article on why the European Union Constitution was unable to get the ‘yes’ vote this past week. She will explain in Two Parts, why it failed, what this means for europe and where to go from here. The first part is today. And tomorrow is the second part. Enjoy …

A story of �Non�

On Sunday, 29th of May, French people voted �Non� to the referendum for the European Constitution. The whole world had turned its eyes on Europe for this occasion, and now, after the No from Netherlands and the (all too happy) cancellation by England of its own referendum, everybody is waiting to see the consequences on Europe and the repercussions on the world. However, ever since, reading newspapers, I have been noticing that this vote has been widely misunderstood and misinterpreted, outside of France in general, but especially here on the other side of the Atlantic. That�s why, on the request of Shahriar, I will try explaining a bit more the reasons and in a certain measure the future consequences, of this French Non. I�m not pretending to explain the numerous arguments explored on both sides during the campaign, and to detail all the different aspects of the issue. But I�m going to try to give a few elements of answer.

The main thing that one should insist on is that this French Non was not a Non to Europe; this was a Non from pro-European people who have been supporting the European construction for years, but who couldn�t agree with the European project that this constitution was proposing.

Of course, a few extremist minority groups are against Europe and have always been, they voted no to Europe, as they have always done, but without ever being able to make their voice loud enough to stop the European construction. These groups stay a minority. Their position is extremely simple and doesn�t need any explanation; besides, talking about them here would be giving them much more importance than they deserve.

No, the people who made the �Non� win this time, are not these anti-European groups but pro-European people, mainly left-wing, defending a �Non de gauche� (left-wing no) to build �a more democratic and social Europe�. This is the first answer I would like to give to people who ask �What? France is the mother of Europe; she has always initiated the steps of the European construction. French people are the ones who asked for a constitution. Now, that we propose them a constitution, they vote No?��

Yes, indeed French people have always been initiating the various steps of the European construction, and are widely pro-European; yes they think (in majority) that it is time to build a political Europe, which would be able to make its own unified voice sound in the world, aside (or in front�) of the strongly dominating American voice. That�s why they had asked for a constitution. But the constitution that was proposed to them discombobulated and worried many: as we are going to explain, it was not answering their expectations of a �political Europe�, they saw in it an �ultra-liberal� project in which the French social ideals could disappear.

As the numerous articles defending the �left-wing No� claimed: they didn�t want to reject Europe, they rejected this project of Europe that �politicians were trying to sell them�, hoping to build instead a �better� Europe, closer to what their views and ideals are.

And indeed, this constitution was the fruit of many dialogues and compromises between the different voices and wishes of the various European countries, and as such, it couldn�t completely satisfy any of them (but how to avoid that when you try to unify various regions with different cultures and ideals?). These �pro-No� groups had soon analysed the constitution and were widely talking with many details of the faults of this text and its possible dangers for democracy and our social model.

On the other side, for far too long, the �pro-yes� politicians – who represented most of the political class, all parties included � who should have explained the text to the population, were simply repeating an arrogant �if you are pro-Europe, you have to vote yes; people who vote no are against Europe and put in danger Europe and the place of France in Europe�, without giving any much explanation or argument. I guess, this is another example of the arrogance of the ruling class, who too often think that their electors are too stupid to understand, and who as a consequence prefer to present them a very simplified image, often far from reality, rather than making the efforts of explaining them how things really are. And whereas some clear and honest explanations might have convinced people to vote ‘yes’, this haughty attitude contributed to discrediting the pro-yes discourse.

They notably didn�t explain that this text was not really a �constitution� in the usual meaning of the term, but rather a new �treaty�, unifying the precedent, marking a new step towards a political Europe, but without building a federal Europe yet. And this has stayed one of the main points of misunderstanding.

Moreover, as the unknown, the new and the big are always a bit scary, this new text regrouping many countries – sometimes not very well-known or known as very liberal like England – in a big supranational Europe, introducing new institutions and rules was naturally awaking a bit of fear, especially since the pro-no groups were advancing some various possible dangers of the text. The politicians should have reassured people with some concrete arguments and explanations but unfortunately, either because of their too long condescendence, or because they misunderstood too long the population�s fear and feeling, they didn�t. Only a few voices rose with concrete explanations but too few and for most too late. So, either because people were finding this text not democratic and social enough, or simply because they didn�t want vote yes to a text they were not completely sure it might not have some bad consequences, people voted ‘non’ to the text.

This is what I am going to try to explain here: how this text is the fruit of a compromise between the defenders of a purely economical, ultra-liberal Europe (like England), association of countries in a free-market, and the defenders of a more social and political Europe (like Germany and France); how while many French people found this text too liberal, not social enough, for England it is far too social (as Tony Blair repeated it yesterday). To illustrate, I will give a few of the various controversial points of the text. I am not here to judge whether people were right or wrong to vote no; but I will have a look at what the consequences for the future of Europe can be …

(Part II of this piece coming tomorrow…)

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  • Filed under: Essay, politics
  • tintin

    Tintin … coming out?

    Like all good Iranian kids (and all good kids from around the world), i grew up with the famous cartoon hero, Tintin. The first Tintin book i read, was the Black Island. (in fact it was while reading that particular adventure, in persian naturally, that i first learned the correct spelling of the persian word for ‘finally’, ‘belakhareh’. of course the frist few times i read it as ‘baalaa-khareh’. But that is tangential to this post).

    Anyways, once again, Tintin has come to the rescue. Considering my imminent emigration from Canada, part of the duties of the teaching of the french language has fallen onto the shoulders of our brave journalist.

    Yes, i have been learning french by going through the old Tintin books, by going therough them, in their original french text. Yes, i know you might be thinking “Saperlipopette! What is wrong with this guy”. But trust me, it’s been working quite nicely.

    However, that is not the main point of this musing. The point is that I’ve noticed something for the first time, which perhaps before i’d denied because of the shocking quality of it. And here it is:


    Come on, think about it. We never, EVER see the guy with a woman. The only woman we see him with, is Castafiore and he doesn’t really indulge her. IN fact he spends more time talking with her pianist (a pretty non-hetero-looking guy himself).

    Moreover, who is his best friend? A SAILOR!!! I mean, come on, do we need to spell it out? And let’s not forget about his little chinese friend Tchang. They were quite buddy buddy in The Blue Lotus; close enough that he decided to rescue him from the Yeti. Nothing wrong with a little asian fetish. (I can understand the attraction too. Tchang is the only character in all the adventures who is as short as he is).

    In fact I think that maybe the key to his lack of success with the ladies. Poor Tintin is shorter than almost all the women he meets. Especially considering the time period he is from, it wasn’t really a time when it was common for a man to be with a woman much taller than him.

    And let’s not make any mistakes about his height. Tintin is pretty much almost a midget. During the entire China adventure, he is consistently a head and shoulder below all the native chinese and japanese, and the chinese and japanese aren’t exactly known for their heiight. (In fact to quote a friend from PHysics, Tim: “of course the japanese are short. I mean the literal translation of Chiuahua in japanese means Giant Dog Monster!”).

    And don’t even get me started on the hair. Put the look together with SOMETHING ABOUT MARY, and you get where i’m going with this. So, i think maybe all this sheds a bit of light on one of the most beloved and misudnerstood gay heroes of all time!

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  • Filed under: Essay, rant
  • New Shahrvand Issue

    So I finished my first day of work yesterday, and if it means anything, today shall be even more hectic. I have got my work cutout for me. Let’s just say it shall be … educational!

    Also, today the new issue of Shahrvand English comes out. You can find the .pdf file here (beware it is big). This week i have an article on Mehregan. Last week, i had a nice piece on Sohrab Sepehri

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    The always interesting George Monbiot has a very interesting article on Iran’s ‘right’ to develope its own nukes. Here are some excerpts:

    “Here is the world’s most nonsensical job description. Your duty is to work tirelessly to prevent the proliferation of nuclear weapons. And to work tirelessly to encourage the proliferation of the means of building them. This is the task of the head of the International Atomic Energy Agency, Mohamed El Baradei…

    “…The IAEA, its statute says, should assist “the supplying of materials, equipment, or facilities” to non-nuclear states. It should train nuclear scientists and “foster the exchange of scientific and technical information”. Its mission, in other words, is to prevent the development of nuclear weapons, while spreading nuclear technology to as many countries as possible. It is also responsible for enforcing the nuclear non-proliferation treaty, which has the same dual purpose…”

    “…The non-proliferation treaty gives Iran both the right to own the materials and the cover it requires to use them for a weapons programme. If you want to build a bomb, you simply sign the treaties, join the IAEA, then use your entitlements to do what they were designed to prevent.Iran certainly has plenty of motives for seeking to become a nuclear power. Israel has enough nuclear weapons to wipe it off the map. Sheltered by the US, it has no incentive to dismantle them and sign the non-proliferation treaty. Both the US and the UK have abandoned their own obligations to disarm, and appear to be contemplating a new generation of nuclear weapons. Both governments have also suggested that they would be prepared to use them pre-emptively. Iran is surrounded by American military bases, and is one of the two surviving members of the axis of evil. The other one, North Korea, has been threatening its neighbours with impunity. Why? Because it has the bomb. If Iran is not developing a nuclear weapons programme, it hasn’t understood the drift of global politics…”

    Read More Here …

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  • Filed under: Essay, Iran, Nuclear, US, politics
  • Quote for this Click

    • There's no such thing as a soul. It's just something they made up to scare kids, like the boogeyman or Michael Jackson. - - - Bart Simpson

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