Preface to Major Barbara by George Bernard Shaw (1905)

I, the dramatist, whose business it is to show the connection between things that seem apart and unrelated in the haphazard order of events in real life…
(Shaw describes his role in the Preface to Major Barbara)

George Bernard Shaw became notorious for the long prefaces he attached to his many plays. The preface to Major Barbara is one of the longest, at 40 pages long! So long it is divided into sections with their own headings. I’d heard so much about Shaw’s prefaces that I was really looking forward to their wit and wisdom, to learning something but this one felt like 40 pages of often dazzling, sometimes incomprehensible, but ultimately pointless rhetoric.

First aid to critics

Shaw has a very poor opinion of British critics and so explains that his preface is so long because he is going to explain the major themes of his play to them and how to think and write about it.

For starters, as a prologue, Shaw takes critics to task who, whenever he tackles a serious subject, accuse him of being influenced by Ibsen or Nietzsche or Schopenhauer or some fancy Continental thinker. Shaw irritably declares that he was much more influenced by little-known British writers such as:

  • the Irish novelist Charles Lever, whose novel ‘A Day’s Ride: A Life’s Romance’ contains the theme of the clash between romantic ideals and harsh reality
  • the amoral antinomianism of Ernest Belfort Bax who defended the positive value of crime
  • Captain Wilson who criticised Christianity for its slave morality who criticised the Sermon on the Mount as a justification of cowardice and servility
  • or the historian Stuart-Glennie who argued that Christianity was invented by white races to subjugate all the other races of the world

The Gospel of Andrew Undershaft

Here beginneth Shaw’s explanation of his play. He tells us that he conceived the character of Andrew Undershaft as a man who has grasped that the greatest human value is to avoid being poor. He picks up the typical middle-class comment ‘Let him [the working man] be poor’ and asks what it means in practice:

It means let him be weak. Let him be ignorant. Let him become a nucleus of disease. Let him be a standing exhibition and example of ugliness and dirt. Let him have rickety children. Let him be cheap and let him drag his fellows down to his price by selling himself to do their work. Let his habitations turn our cities into poisonous congeries of slums. Let his daughters infect our young men with the diseases of the streets and his sons revenge him by turning the nation’s manhood into scrofula, cowardice, cruelty, hypocrisy, political imbecility, and all the other fruits of oppression and malnutrition.

Shaw turns to the play and says he conceived of Undershaft, ‘resolute and clearsighted’, as a man who has grasped the great truth that you ought to do anything, anything at all, to avoid being poor. Against him is contrasted Peter Shirley, a feeble specimen of the weak-willed ‘deserving poor’ who is incapable of bettering himself and always complaining about his lot.

Shaw lambasts high-minded do-gooders like William Morris with his fancy arts and crafts for not grasping the basic fact that most people do not want hand-designed wallpaper or expensive editions of Chaucer, they want more money.

Money is the most important thing in the world. It represents health, strength, honour, generosity and beauty as conspicuously and undeniably as the want of it represents illness, weakness, disgrace, meanness and ugliness.

Thus:

The crying need of the nation is not for better morals, cheaper bread, temperance, liberty, culture, redemption of fallen sisters and erring brothers, nor the grace, love and fellowship of the Trinity, but simply for enough money. And the evil to be attacked is not sin, suffering, greed, priestcraft, kingcraft, demagogy, monopoly, ignorance, drink, war, pestilence, nor any other of the scapegoats which reformers sacrifice, but simply poverty.

The Salvation Army

Critics thought he was mocking the Salvation Army or took Barbara’s view that it should never accept tainted money, but Shaw spends several pages explaining that all money is tainted, none of us can stand all of from the exploitation inherent in our society, and the real life Salvation Army officer who exclaimed that of course they’d accept the donations of a distiller and an arms manufacturer, ‘they would take money from the devil himself and be only too glad to get it out of his hands and into God’s.’ Army officers he quizzed questioned the plausibility of the play not because Mrs Baines accepted the tainted money but because Barbara refused it. The fact that so many playgoers and critics saw her gesture as noble and good indicates how out of touch with ‘the life of the nation’ so many playgoers and critics are.

Barbara’s Return to the Colours

Shaw makes the simple but striking point that fine writing changes nothing, only physical force changes society. It is a truism to claim that Voltaire, Rousseau and the Encyclopedists caused the French Revolution but it’s also wrong. When Voltaire was at the peak of his career, French society only became more repressive and barbaric. The simple truth is that only physical force changes things. Likewise the nineteenth century in Britain had the high-minded writings of its Utilitarians, its Christian Socialists, its Fabians, of Bentham, Mill, Dickens, Ruskin, Carlyle, Butler, Henry George and Morris but they changed nothing. Only strikes and illegal organisation among working men changed anything.

Which is why Shaw finds it extremely significant that the Salvation Army is named and organised as an army, and that its chief campaign is for money. Both of these aspects denote a realism about how society needs to be changed.

Weaknesses of the Salvation Army

That said, he bemoans its Christianity, its ties to arch conservatives and old-school evangelists. This section disappears into squabbles about whether Salvationists do or don’t believe in an afterlife, what kind of afterlife, whether belief in an afterlife robs death of its sting etc, all of which feels like dancing on a pinhead which has been stomped into the ground millions of times over the past two thousand years.

He disapproves their habit of sinners making a grand confession of their previous sinful lives before they saw the light, as this just encourages exaggeration or downright lies. He goes on to attack Christianity (as far as I can make out) claiming that:

the Salvation Army instinctively grasps the central truth of Christianity and discards its central superstition: that central truth being the vanity of revenge and punishment, and that central superstition the salvation of the world by the gibbet.

Who cares. Christianity has no place in modern public life which is, as I write in 2024, more dogged by worries about Judaism and Islam. But it was 120 years ago and the play is about the Salvation Army so Shaw continues with his paradoxical and provocative views:

Forgiveness, absolution, atonement, are figments: punishment is only a pretence of cancelling one crime by another; and you can no more have forgiveness without vindictiveness than you can have a cure without a disease.

You can see how this chimes with his view that imprisoning people for crime is barbaric, simply returning one crime for another. the trouble with all Shaw’s clever demolitions of contemporary social values is it’s hard to make out what he would put in their place. If we don’t lock up rapists and murderers, what should we do with them?

It gets, in my opinion, worse, as Shaw rambles on to talk about super successful millionaire businessmen.

Our commercial millionaires to-day, they begin as brigands: merciless, unscrupulous, dealing out ruin and death and slavery to their competitors and employees, and facing desperately the worst that their competitors can do to them. The history of the English factories, the American trusts, the exploitation of African gold, diamonds, ivory and rubber, outdoes in villainy the worst that has ever been imagined of the buccaneers of the Spanish Main.

We might all agree about the exploitation of Africa, but did English factory owners, mine owners, big businessmen deal out ‘ruin and death and slavery to their competitors and employees’? No, not really. And the unreliable exaggeration of this renders everything which follows flaky and invalid. For he goes on to describe the type of the successful tycoon who believes his own propaganda, writes books of advice, sponsors charitable foundations etc. I guess he’s describing the John D Rockefellers of his age. Would the same apply to our modern leading charitable millionaires, Elton John, David Sainsbury, Dame Janet de Botton, Sigrid Rausing?

Anyway, all this degenerates into the kind of wordy gibberish Shaw is so prone to:

just as our persistent attempts to found political institutions on a basis of social inequality have always produced long periods of destructive friction relieved from time to time by violent explosions of revolution; so the attempt – will Americans please note — to found moral institutions on a basis of moral inequality can lead to nothing but unnatural Reigns of the Saints relieved by licentious Restorations; to Americans who have made divorce a public institution turning the face of Europe into one huge sardonic smile by refusing to stay in the same hotel with a Russian man of genius who has changed wives without the sanction of South Dakota; to grotesque hypocrisy, cruel persecution, and final utter confusion of conventions and compliances with benevolence and respectability.

‘To found moral institutions on a basis of moral inequality’ 1) I don’t quite understand what ‘moral institutions’ are or what ‘moral inequality’ means so 2) I can’t see any way it applies to anything in the real world.

Shaw comes out with sweeping but schoolboy criticisms of society:

Churches are suffered to exist only on condition that they preach submission to the State as at present capitalistically organized.

The police and the military are the instruments by which the rich rob and oppress the poor (on legal and moral principles made for the purpose)…

These sound like the childish nostrums of 1960s radicals who all grew up and went into advertising, silly on so many levels. Would you expect the state religion to preach violent overthrow of the status quo? How would that work? And as we discovered during the Thatcher years, sometimes the greatest opposition to the government’s policy came from senior figures in the Church of England.

As to the police, it is another old chestnut that they oppress the poor but 1) what happens if you defund the police and withdraw any force of law and order from inner cities? Do they become paradises of ‘moral equality’? Nope. Surely the police are the least worst option in terms of trying to curb the evil instincts of so many men. And 2) it is 40 years of neo-liberal economics, with its casualisation of millions of low-paid jobs, the lack of social housing and the demonisation of benefits scroungers which oppress the poor, not cops whizzing round in fancy cars.

Christianity and Anarchism

Thus, according to Shaw, the Salvation Army and all organised religions are placed in a false position until society is comprehensibly restructured. Shaw refers to the Morral Affair without (as is the habit of him and so many of the authors of his age) giving the necessary names or details. The reader has to turn to Wikipedia to find out what he’s on about.

On May 31, 1906, Mateu Morral threw a bomb at King Alfonso XIII’ of Spains car as he returned with Victoria Eugenie from their wedding in Madrid. It was a year to the date following a similar attack on his carriage. The bomb was concealed in a bouquet of flowers. While the King and Queen emerged unscathed, 24 bystanders and soldiers were killed and over 100 more wounded. A British colonel observing the scene compared it to one of war. The bride’s wedding gown was splattered with horse blood.

But Shaw seems to imply that the attack was justified.

The horses alone are innocent of the guilt he is avenging: had he blown all Madrid to atoms with every adult person in it, not one could have escaped the charge of being an accessory, before, at, and after the fact, to poverty and prostitution, to such wholesale massacre of infants as Herod never dreamt of, to plague, pestilence and famine, battle, murder and lingering death – perhaps not one who had not helped, through example, precept, connivance, and even clamour, to teach the dynamiter his well-learnt gospel of hatred and vengeance, by approving every day of sentences of years of imprisonment so infernal in its unnatural stupidity and panic-stricken cruelty, that their advocates can disavow neither the dagger nor the bomb without stripping the mask of justice and humanity from themselves also.

So do I deserve to be blown up by a terrorist bomb because I acquiesce in all the poverty and exploitation to be found in contemporary London? As he continues his narrative, Shaw seems to sympathise with the Madrid newspaper editor who helped the assassin escape, at least temporarily, from the Spanish police, while his bile is especially reserved for public opinion across Europe – ‘the raging fire of malice’ – which was horrified at the mass murder of the bombing.

Maybe Shaw would have approved of 9/11 on the basis of his claim that none of us are innocent? Or, closer to home, of the 7 July 2005 London bombings? That seems to be the logical consequence of his claim that no one who lives in a capitalist society is innocent of the exploitation inherent in capitalism. We all deserve to be blown up.

Sane Conclusions

Shaw continues with his hobbyhorse against the police and against any form of judicial punishment, especially the ‘barbarity’ of imprisonment. Instead he suggests every man is an anarchist when it comes to laws which are against their consciences. At times of great social change, institutions and laws need to change with them but rarely do, end up being 50 years or more out of date with the result that most sane men break them with a clean conscience.

As so many writers of this ilk do, he appeals not to data or facts, but to his own personality:

Here am I, for instance, by class a respectable man, by common sense a hater of waste and disorder, by intellectual constitution legally minded to the verge of pedantry, and by temperament apprehensive and economically disposed to the limit of old-maidishness; yet I am, and have always been, and shall now always be, a revolutionary writer, because our laws make law impossible; our liberties destroy all freedom; our property is organized robbery; our morality is an impudent hypocrisy; our wisdom is administered by inexperienced or malexperienced dupes, our power wielded by cowards and weaklings, and our honor false in all its points. I am an enemy of the existing order for good reasons; but that does not make my attacks any less encouraging or helpful to people who are its enemies for bad reasons. The existing order may shriek that if I tell the truth about it, some foolish person may drive it to become still worse by trying to assassinate it but I cannot help that…

Schoolboy rubbish. Do our ‘liberties destroy all freedom’? No, rubbish. Is property organised robbery? No. Is our morality an impudent hypocrisy? Well, take the general moral agreement that murder is bad, is that some kind of hypocrisy?

It feels intolerably weak, lame and inadequate that all the preceding bombast of this 40-page effusion ends up with this combination of crass exaggeration and egotistical self obsession.

Shaw’s solutions

And his two solutions for all this? Are close to incomprehensible.

First, the daily ceremony of dividing the wealth of the country among its inhabitants shall be so conducted that no crumb shall go to any able-bodied adults who are not producing by their personal exertions not only a full equivalent for what they take, but a surplus sufficient to provide for their superannuation and pay back the debt due for their nurture.

This is nonsense. Nearly half the adult population of Britain is incapable of productive work due to long-term sickness, mental illness, addiction or caring responsibilities for children or others. Next?

The second is that the deliberate infliction of malicious injuries which now goes on under the name of punishment be abandoned; so that the thief, the ruffian, the gambler, and the beggar, may without inhumanity be handed over to the law, and made to understand that a State which is too humane to punish will also be too thrifty to waste the life of honest men in watching or restraining dishonest ones. That is why we do not imprison dogs. We even take our chance of their first bite. But if a dog delights to bark and bite, it goes to the lethal chamber. That seems to me sensible.

To be absolutely clear:

It would be far more sensible to put up with their vices, as we put up with their illnesses, until they give more trouble than they are worth, at which point we should, with many apologies and expressions of sympathy, and some generosity in complying with their last wishes, then, place them in the lethal chamber and get rid of them.

So there are Shaw’s solutions to Britain’s social problems: everyone must be forced to work; any criminal will be tolerated until their behaviour becomes completely unacceptable at which point they will be liquidated. Any goodwill Shaw generated earlier in this grotesque essay surely evaporates at this point. On the last page he explains at length that the churches and Christianity, by offering unlimited redemption, only encourage lowlife criminals or criminal capitalists like Bodger to carry on with their crime indefinitely. The only way to stop it is not endless fol-de-rol of atonement and forgiveness but the iron law of annihilation. To ensure there’s no doubt he repeats his two key points:

We shall never have real moral responsibility until everyone knows 1) that his deeds are irrevocable, and 2) that his life depends on his usefulness.

Is this Swiftian satire or does he mean it? In which case, surely he was a proto-Nazi?


Related links

Bernard Shaw reviews

Peter Kennard: Archive of Dissent @ the Whitechapel Gallery

‘Visual attempts to dissect the newspeak that bombards us’
(Peter Kennard in an article about his photomontages)

Chances are you’ve seen one or more of Peter Kennard’s iconic photomontages, particularly during his heyday in the 1980s when the reign of Mrs Thatcher provided the perfect background for his brand of aggressively radical, satirical photomontages, published in a wide variety of left-leaning magazines and newspapers.

‘Protest and Survive’ by Peter Kennard (1980) Tate: Purchased from the artist

Throughout Thatcher’s premiership, and fired by her close partnership with Rocking Ronnie Reagan, there was widespread paranoia on the Left that the world stood on the brink of a catastrophic nuclear war and Kennard’s witty, bleak, mashed-up montages provided a perfect accompaniment to the mood of anxiety among concerned activists everywhere.

‘Haywain with Cruise Missiles’ by Peter Kennard (1980) Tate: Purchased from the artist 2007 © Peter Kennard

Photomontage

Photomontage is the technique of cutting, arranging and gluing together photos (or parts of photos) to make a new image, sometimes with text similarly cut and pasted from newspapers or other sources. As a technique it’s always been associated with politics and satire, from its origins in the Weimar Republic of the 1920s and 30s and the great pioneer of political montages, John Heartfield.

The Meaning of the Hitler Salute: Little man asks for big gifts.

‘The Meaning of the Hitler Salute: Little man asks for big gifts’ by John Heartfield, October 1932

As a student activist in the 196os, Kennard found theoretical underpinnings for photomontage in the critical writings of Marxist thinkers like Walter Benjamin and Bertolt Brecht who promoted photomontage and collage (among other strategies) as ways of puncturing, subverting and questioning the smooth lies of capitalist discourse and bourgeois culture. Indeed, one of newspapers on show here is a Guardian Arts supplement from the 1990s featuring a long essay about Benjamin by James Wood and illustrated by a photomontage of him (Benjamin) by Kennard.

‘Walter Benjamin’ by Peter Kennard (1990) as featured in ‘Archive of Dissent: Peter Kennard’ at the Whitechapel Gallery

Kennard at the Whitechapel

This new exhibition of Kennard’s work includes lots of golden oldies from the 70s, 80s, and 90s, witty, savage, sometimes very bleak visual protests against a world run by rich Western corporations who, in what is probably his central theme, make obscene amounts of money by selling arms, weapons, bombs, guns to disgusting regimes which then use them to repress, murder, massacre their own and neighbouring populations. Champagne-swilling capitalists win – unarmed civilians, women and children lose.

‘Stop’ by Peter Kennard as featured in ‘Archive of Dissent: Peter Kennard’ at the Whitechapel Gallery

However, this exhibition is not by any means a retrospective or dwelling on the past. Two of the three rooms contain very up-to-date works, completed in 2023 or this year, which show Kennard expanding his range in new and interesting ways. Having pondered all this a bit, I think the best way to 1) indicate what the show actually contains and 2) to indicate how the new stuff differs and expands on the old, is simply to describe it room by room.

Room 1

Room 1 is named the Archive Room and contains four elements. First there’s a plain table on which are ten books, publications from Kennard’s career from coffee table blockbusters to smaller, postcard-sized works. You could grab a coffee from the cafe downstairs, sit and browse through these for an interesting half hour or so.

On a shelf round two walls are 17 copies of one of these books – @earth – open to 17 different images.

On another wall is a hinged rack (the kind you see in art gallery shops) of 42 posters of Kennard images ranging from 1979 to 2019, made from photolithography and silkscreen on card.

Lastly, there are piles and piles of newspapers – or at least that’s what I thought they were till I looked closely and realised they are specially printed broadsheet-sized, newspaper-style folded versions of his images, accompanied by smatterings of text, which are FREE and we are encouraged to take away with us.

Installation view of ‘Archive of Dissent: Peter Kennard’ at the Whitechapel Gallery, showing the reading table, copies of @earth open on the shelf and piles and piles of free papers (photo by the author)

Room 2

Barely a room, really just an extension of the same space, the second gallery contains three elements. There is a display case which bears the title ‘Worktop, 1966–2024’ and is, as the name suggests, a junk shop-style collection of the kinds of materials that Kennard collects – magazines, books, photos – plus all manner of equipment used to make the works, such as a tape measure, rulers, paints, knives and tools and so on.

The artist’s bric-a-brac at ‘Archive of Dissent: Peter Kennard’ at the Whitechapel Gallery (photo by the author)

Above the display case are four large framed works titled ‘Stocks’ from 1994. These are four copies of the Financial Times which have been subjected to a dramatic transformation, namely a gaunt, ravaged, black and white arm and hand tearing its way down through the neat columns of stock market prices, in a gesture which manages to convey terrible despair.

©Peter Kennard Newspaper 8 (1994) Carbon toner, oil, charcoal, pastel on newspaper, wood

‘Stock’ by Peter Kennard (1994) as featured in ‘Archive of Dissent: Peter Kennard’ at the Whitechapel Gallery

Opposite these a sort of alcove has been filled with 25 poster-sized blow-ups pf his images to create a little forest of placards, each attached to a wooden post themselves secured in red vices. This is his newest work, created specially for this exhibition, is titled ‘People’s University of the East End’, and there’s a story behind it.

It turns out that the three ‘galleries’ in which the show is held were once part of the former Whitechapel Library (1892 to 2005). At the turn of the twentieth century this was a free resource to the poor inhabitants of the area who would have read books, magazines and newspapers here. Back then it was nicknamed the ‘People’s University of the East End’, hence the title of this installation which, as the curators put it, ‘reflects on the capacity for learning, community and activism in public spaces.’

The exhibition, we learn, was conceived to echo and reflect on this idea of a library, a place where ideas are made available, promoted and circulate. Hence the inclusion of the word Archive in the title of the show, for it brings together not just the images themselves, but includes actual copies of the original newspapers and magazines and posters, as well as the more recent books, in which his images were first published and continue to circulate.

Installation view of ‘People’s University of the East End’ in ‘Archive of Dissent: Peter Kennard’ at the Whitechapel Gallery (photo by the author)

This little copse of placards is quite a neat idea, and contains up-to-date works such as the barbed-wire tree from the civil war in Syria (centre right) and the image of Julian Assange intercut with the American and British flags at the bottom right, but it didn’t pull my daisy, I’m not sure why. In the same way, the notion of the Archive certainly explains the bringing together of all these formats – posters, newspapers, and the vitrine showing his bric-a-brac – but doesn’t really come off, as an idea.

The best bit, I thought, were the shiny red vices supporting the posts, like a little army of red crabs. ‘Red vices’, hmm, that could have been a witty alternative title for the exhibition and the right-on causes Kennard has spent a lifetime supporting…

Anyway, themes from these first two spaces are picked up in the third, biggest and best room of the show.

Room 3: the installations

The first wall of the third and final room displays no fewer than 40 of his classic photomontages, ranging from a piece commenting on British Army brutality in Northern Ireland in 1973 to the Free Julian Assange piece I mentioned above, made in 2023, via one of my favourites, the very funny Maggie Regina from 1983.

Maggie Regina by Peter Kennard (1983) in ‘Archive of Dissent: Peter Kennard’ at the Whitechapel Gallery (photo by the author)

It’s an impressive selection from fifty years of mostly stark and upsetting imagery designed to provoke the viewer into thinking again about the forces of violence and exploitation which underlie our shiny Western world.

But the big thing here is the installations which I think are brilliant. There are four of them and, remember the copies of the Financial Times with the gaunt arm tearing through it in the previous room? – they all rely on newspapers as their central material.

1. Reading Room

The simplest is ‘Reading Room’. Picking up on the Whitechapel Library motif, these are four old two-sided wooden lecterns, the kind that turn-of-the-century readers would have read their newspapers on. Each of them hosts an original edition of a newspaper or magazine where a Kennard work originally appeared. Most of the 8 newspapers in question were copies of the Guardian, the exceptions being two copies of The Workers Press and a vintage copy of the New Musical Express.

Installation view of ‘Reading Room, 1997 to 2024,’ in ‘Archive of Dissent: Peter Kennard’ at the Whitechapel Gallery (photo by the author)

The classic black-and-white photomontages address these issues:

  • 1973 scientists involved in torture (The Workers Press)
  • 1974 British investment in apartheid South Africa (The Workers Press)
  • 1981 nuclear weapons, a skeleton morphing into an atom bomb (New Musical Express)
  • 1989 reunification of East and West Germany (Guardian)
  • 1990 the Whites Only policy of South African apartheid (Guardian)
  • 1990 profile of Walter Benjamin (Guardian)
  • 1991 Gulf War, the attempt to stop Saddam Hussein (Guardian)
  • 1991 a centrefold collection of photomontages (Guardian)

2. World Markets (1997 to 2024)

‘World Markets’ is a set of 16 broadsheet newspaper double-spreads, most if not all from Kennard’s favourite target, the Financial Times, on which he has projected faces intended, presumably, to represent The Poor and Exploited. The aim is to remind us that behind the wall of numbers which is the faster-then-ever, digitally automated stock market, are the lives of the poor and downtrodden who suffer from the ravages of global capitalism.

Installation view of ‘World Markets, 1997 to 2024,’ in ‘Archive of Dissent: Peter Kennard’ at the Whitechapel Gallery (photo by the author)

Both these are straightforward in manner and material. The last two installations represent something completely new because they use electric lights and projections.

3. Double Exposure, 2023

‘Double Exposure’ covers a whole wall. It consists of three rows of 12 Financial Times pages with lights projecting images of war and conflict and poverty onto them. It was made in collaboration with Nigel Brown and is large and imposing. Part of the overall visual impact comes from the complicated spaghetti of electric cabling hanging from each projection and spooling along the floor.

Installation view of ‘Double Exposure’ in ‘Archive of Dissent: Peter Kennard’ at the Whitechapel Gallery (photo by the author)

The dynamic nature of this installation i.e. the lights continually changing, is appealing. And the notion of this magic lantern show revealing the ‘truth’ behind the blank walls of stocks and shares prices on the FT pages is also sort of interesting.

Kennard’s dualistic worldview

‘Double Exposure’ really just brings out the fundamental concept which underlies all Kennard’s work which is that there are two levels of reality – the smooth, plausible, ‘common sense’ world we inhabit, defined and described and promoted in the hegemonic discourse of neo-liberal consumer capitalism, the world of perfect people smiling down at us from advertising hoardings in the streets, on the sides of buses, on the Tube, on TV on our social media, the world of newspapers and TV assuring us that our values and our way of life, our pensions and investments in mega-corporations, are the only rational, practical ways to run the world – and the other world, the Dark Side, where the huge profits which keep the corporations afloat which our pensions and savings are invested in, the world of ‘shiny happy people’ is sustained by the ruthless exploitation of the poor and powerless, of indigenous peoples around the world, of peasants and workers forced to sweat in terrible conditions in Indonesian sweatshops or be psychologically destroyed in China’s suicide factories, and where, above all, the West maintains its hegemonic control of the world’s economic and financial systems through the ruthless elimination of anyone who stands in its way via wars of conquest dressed up as ‘liberation’ or ‘freedom’ – as in the deep need to control the world’s oil supplies which underlay the West’s adventures in the Gulf War and then the Iraq War.

Kennard’s works represent this Two World Hypothesis, this duality, via works which are themselves dualistic or dichotomous, in which (in his classic works) images from two different value systems are made to crash into each other, the startlingness of the disjunction intended to wake us from our complacent slumber.

‘Thatcher Unmasked’ by Peter Kennard (1986) A/POLITICAL

You can see how this duality underlies all his work, from duality of ‘The Haywain with Cruise missiles’ (where the self-deceiving bourgeois dream of some Old Englande is punctured by the modern reality of England being a lunch pad for American nukes) through to the dual image of copies of the Financial Times which have been ripped by the gaunt arm of the global poor (‘Stocks’) or have projected onto them the faces of the global poor (‘World Markets’ and ‘Double Exposure’).

There are, of course, a number of problems with this approach and with the whole radical worldview which underlies it, of which three spring straight to mind.

1. What’s the alternative?

One is, What else do you suggest? Forty years ago I read Class War and Socialist Worker and the kind of publications Kennard’s works appeared in and fondly imagined that the (Western) world could be subjected to a socialist transformation, but the collapse of the Soviet Union and of all the regimes around the world which it supported took all the steam out of those (wildly impractical) hopes and into the vacuum rushed the two flavours of neoliberalism which have ruled the West ever since, the Hard Neoliberalism of the Conservatives and Republicans, of Reagan and Thatcher, or the Soft Neoliberalism of Bill Clinton and Tony Blair, which promised a fairer world and a middle way but still deregulated the financial sector leading to the 2008 crash and enthusiastically promoted the War on Terror and invasion of Iraq, trashing Blair’s reputation forever.

Photo-Op by kennardphillipps (2005) © kennardphillipps

Photo-Op by kennardphillipps (2005) © kennardphillipps

Right up to the present day, activists on the Left are still trying to devise a new economic and social theory on which to base their policies, an ideological vacuum you can clearly see in Keir Starmer’s Labour Party, which is just the British wing of the general bemusement of left-of-centre parties across the West.

Which explains why the Left has so enthusiastically embraced identity politics – it’s an excuse, it’s a fig leaf, it covers for their lack of an economic theory. Certainly feminism and black rights and refugees and Palestine are worthy causes, but in all the Western nations the Left and progressives and activists have clustered round these causes because they don’t know what to do about the economy any more – should we nationalise all the utilities, should the government create an industrial strategy and support native industries?

The Right has won everywhere because it has a clear strategy – reduce the state, privatise everything, neuter trade unions, leave all economic decisions to the market, cut taxes on the rich – which it implements everywhere with total consistency, and has ideological allies in all the media owned by the rich who stand to directly benefit from these policies.

I take the pint that Kennard’s work is satirical commentary and like satire through the ages is under no obligation to propose its own alternative agenda, and yet at some point, during this review of 50 years of political engagement, surely every visitor is going to ask, ‘OK – you hate this universe of exploitation and warmongering – what’s your alternative?’

2. The post-Cold War multipolar world

The second objection to Kennard’s worldview is that it is too western and too parochial. If Reagan and Thatcher deserved mocking in the 1980s how much more so did the totalitarian regimes in Soviet Russia and Communist China?

In this century 9/11 crystallised the threat from radical Islam, a completely new force which entered the world with the 1979 Iranian revolution but none of us were really aware of in the 1980s and 90s (except for those plucky mujahideen Sandy Gall was always reporting on for ITN) and despite the mounting rhythm of Islamic terror attacks.

The point is that the radical or Marxist critique of the West which Kennard’s works seem to embody – his relentless criticism of the British state and army, from Ulster to Basra, and British arms and weapons suppliers making fortunes from murder – has been trumped or eclipsed by forces which are demonstrably more evil and wicked – ISIS in Syria, the Taliban in Afghanistan – and the great arc of instability across North Africa, through the Middle East, Iran-Iraq, up into Syria, countries which were destabilised by the uprisings of the Arab Spring and the chaos, civil wars (Libya, Yemen, Syria) or renewed repression (Egypt) they left in their wake. And of course the horrific Hamas raid on Israel followed by the brutal war on Gaza, with the constant threat of a second front opening against Hizbollah in the Lebanon.

And if you throw in the very real threat to Eastern Europe presented by Putin’s invasion of the Ukraine and the ever-present anxiety about China’s threats to Taiwan, then get a world in which even the most radical Left are hard put to argue that it’s the West who are the biggest threat to peace or the most violent culture or the most repressive regimes.

It’s quite clear to everyone that, even if you want to excoriate Western arms companies and rapacious corporations who are, for example, continuing to supply arms for Israel’s murderous assault on Gaza, the overall values of the West need supporting against the very real enemies threatening it from all sides (including, of course, from within – Trump, Reform and the maniac right of the Conservative Party). As in France, the Left needs to present a united front against the Right which, as I mentioned above, succeeds time and time again because it knows what it wants, in a way the fractured Left all-too-often doesn’t.

In summary, mocking the American and British state, big corporations and warmongering leaders made a lot of sense in the Reagan-Thatcher 1980s, and again in the light of the Bush-Blair Iraq War of 2003 – but now, in 2024, doesn’t feel like an adequate response to a far more complicated, and threatening, world. The iniquity of British arms manufacturers continuing to supply Israel or the Syrian government, profiting from conflict in Yemen or Sudan, remains deplorable.

Union Mask by Peter Kennard (2007) Courtesy the artist

3. How ‘radical’ can any contemporary artist be?

The third objection would be the familiar one levelled at all artists no matter how ‘radical’ or ‘subversive’, which is that their works, across all channels and media, fit smoothly inside the capitalist consumer culture they claim to critique, so smoothly as to have, in practice, zero effect.

The Whitechapel Gallery has a shop which, as always, devotes a section to merchandise from the exhibitions of the moment, in this case books and posters and postcards by Peter Kennard all available at very competitive prices. All artists are as tightly enmeshed in the system they wish to undermine as the richest stockbroker or wickedest arms dealer.

You know the old Leftie joke, ‘If voting changed anything, they’d abolish it’ – same here: Kennard, Banksy, any other political artist you care to mention, don’t change anything at all, so much as provide a kind of backdrop for certain kinds of lives, images certain kinds of student zealots and ageing activists identify with and enjoy looking at.

The richest man I know loves all kinds of art, including ‘radical’ stuff like Kennard, loved political photos in the Elton John photo exhibition, coos as Yoni Shinkobare CBE’s deconstruction of imperial statues and why shouldn’t he? None of them threaten him or his ample investments in the slightest. They’re lifestyle accessories, they’re one more set of consumer items to be flicked through while waiting for a plane or by the pool or in a pokey room in Whitechapel.

The man who made them, Kennard, has to believe in The Cause and is as fiercely committed to making works skewering the evil arms trade as he was 50 years ago, and his consistency and commitment is admirable. But strolling round this exhibition inevitably raises the question whether work like this changes anything at all, even in the minds of visitors who, half an hour later, are browsing in the shop or wedged onto a busy tube train.

4. Boardroom (2023)

The last of the installations in the third room is ‘Boardroom’ which dates from last year. I really liked these works because they use rough, industrial, derelict materials, the kind of thing which always lights my candle. On three big salvaged boards are suspended sheets of (as usual) newsprint. Onto these have been printed anonymous portraits of everyday people, The People, the masses. And onto these are projected the logos of oil and arms companies, of Shell and BP, BAE Systems and many others of the same ilk, the point being, of course, that it’s ordinary people, especially in developing countries, who pay the price for the rapacious exploitation of oil (in the Middle East or Nigeria) and the disgustingly indiscriminate use of weaponry (Syria, Ukraine, Gaza).

Installation view of ‘Boardroom’ in ‘Archive of Dissent: Peter Kennard’ at the Whitechapel Gallery (photo by the author)

Arms and the artist

On reflection, maybe it’s his hatred of state violence which is Kennard’s most consistent subject, from the US bombing of Cambodia and North Vietnam, the British Army’s use of rubber bullets in Northern Ireland in the early 70s, the threat of nuclear apocalypse during the 1980s, the West’s use of devastating firepower against Iraq in 1991 and then again in 2003, and western arms companies continuing to profit from conflicts in Ukraine and Israel.

Maybe, rather than critiquing capitalism per se, it would be more accurate to say that Kennard has spent a lifetime excoriating the ruinous products of Western arms companies and the bellicose leaders who support and encourage the militaristic worldview.

‘Sub-Trump’ by Peter Kennard (2018) Courtesy of the artist and Richard Saltoun Gallery, London, Rome and New York

As an intellectual position, this hatred of companies who profit from selling instruments of death and destruction is more viable than thoughts about overthrowing the entire capitalist system. Who doesn’t agree that we should be feeding starving children rather than building nukes and subs and drones? Except that we live in a world with a Russia in it, where even if Vladimir Putin miraculously dies of a heart attack, chances are he would only be replaced by an even more aggressive Russian nationalist – and a world which also has an increasingly nationalist China in it – not to mention a belligerent Iran which was the main beneficiary of the foolish war in Iraq.

With the result that we live in a world where the defence ministers of every country in NATO are calling for more to be spent on defence budgets in readiness for a war with Russia. Is that wrong? Is Kennard saying European nations should be winding down their defence budgets and sending a signal of passivity to Putin?

You look at Kennard’s powerful images and installations, you are touched by the images of starving children and with one part of your mind you strongly sympathise with criticism of arms companies (and the entire ‘system’) which profits from making and selling weapons of death… and yet… another part of your mind wonders – ‘OK, I get it, arms companies are immoral and wicked… but what would your policy be towards Ukraine and Russia? What would you be advising NATO leaders? Do you think this is the moment to reduce our military capability even further?’

The moral outrage of the works excoriating the killing of the innocent and profiteering from death… clash with a realistic assessment of the warlike world we live in… and so left me, literally, in two minds about all of these works.

New media

Putting their subject matter to one side for a moment, Kennard was keen to emphasise that these latter works – the ones using lights and projections, ‘Double Exposure’ and ‘Boardroom’ – are an interesting new strategy of his, an attempt to deconstruct the whole process of photomontage, the artistic practice which made his name.

I think I understand what he thinks he’s getting at but I’m not sure it’s really true. If you use a narrow definition of photomontage i.e. juxtaposing photographs from different sources on a flat surface to make a new photo image, then yes. But if you use the broader definition I attempted above, of juxtaposing objects from two different value systems (faces of people from the developing world with the sleek markets pages of the Financial Times) then this is fundamentally the same approach, the same way to get an effect.

Putting the idea of ‘deconstruction’ to one side, I still liked these works the best: 1) because I like the industrial paraphernalia of salvaged wood, clips and metal brackets and cabling which they involve, and 2) because they are fresh and new, in technique and aim, when set beside the yellowing montages from the 1970s and ’80s. I found them the most interesting as overall objects or sculptures in the same way that I liked the red vices (novel) more than the protest placards (familiar).

Summary

As you can tell, I’m conflicted. I really liked the photomontages because, in their deliberately scrappy mashed-up appearance, they actually display great visual taste. They’re like classic punk visuals and are almost all impactful and effective images, cousins of the political cartoons from the period, distant relations, maybe, of the savage satire of Gerald Scarfe. Despite being made out of other people’s material, their harsh juxtapositions have an immediately recognisable visual identity, much as you can instantly recognise a Banksy work of graffiti.

And I liked the four installations, and the efforts he’s been making with wood and placards and lights etc to broaden out his practice.

And yet I couldn’t help feeling that, at some level, it all comes from a bygone age. Even his response to the most recent events like the terrible civil war in Syria or the jokey photomontages featuring Donald Trump… they’re good but they signify a style and approach which comes from another era and doesn’t (as I’ve tried to explain) really reflect the complexity of our time, the troubled 2020s.

‘Syria’ by Peter Kennard (2018) Courtesy of the artist and Richard Saltoun Gallery, London, Rome and New York

Or am I being too harsh? Is this a man who has been impressively true to his radical beliefs through half a century of political turmoil and social change, an unflinching critic of corporate greed and political mendacity? As he himself puts it:

‘My art erupts from outrage at the fact that the search for financial profit rules every nook and cranny of our society. Profit masks poverty, racism, war, climate catastrophe and on and on…’Archive of Dissent’ brings together fifty years of work that all attempt to express that anger by ripping through the mask by cutting, tearing, montaging and juxtaposing imagery that we are all bombarded with daily. It shows what lies behind the mask: the victims, the resistance, the human communality saying ‘no’ to corporate and state power. It rails at the waste of lives caused by the trillions spent on manufacturing weapons and the vast profits made by arms companies.’

Is it a good thing that he’s still making images which highlight the violent exploitation lying behind the sleek corporate reports, the environmental destruction which pays for BP bonuses, the murderous blowing up of innocent bodies which underlies the profits of the arms manufacturers named in ‘Boardroom’?

Or is it both at the same time? I was conflicted.

Recommendation

It’s not a big exhibition, it’s not a major exhibition. The first two rooms are small, the second one little more than an alcove. If you’re already a fan you should go in order to see the installations and new pieces, but if you’re not, I’d hesitate to recommend it. You don’t get a lot more of a visual hit than you do from surfing the images on his website.

On balance, I think the wall of images of poor people and babies’ faces projected onto copies of the FT which makes up ‘World Markets’ is worth seeing in the flesh, but as to the rest…well, I’ve given a detailed description of what you see, so you can make your own mind up.

The good old days: a copy of the New Musical Express from 1981 featuring a page-size photomontage by Kennard on the left and reviews of recent gigs by Echo and the Bunnymen and The Cure on the right, on show at ‘Archive of Dissent: Peter Kennard’ at the Whitechapel Gallery (photo by the author)


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Fragile Beauty: Photographs from the Sir Elton John and David Furnish Collection @ the Victoria and Albert Museum

Introduction

Sir Elton John began collecting photographs in 1991 and his collection is now regarded as one of the leading private photography collections in the world, distinguished by its exceptional quality and remarkable range and depth. It contains over 7,000 fine art photographs and its full formal title is The Sir Elton John and David Furnish Photography Collection.

This exhibition showcases a selection from the collection of over 300 rare prints from 140 photographers. As such, it is the Victoria and Albert Museum’s largest ever photography exhibition.

This exhibition complements the 2016 exhibition, The Radical Eye: Modernist Photography from the Sir Elton John Collection staged at Tate Modern. Roughly speaking that exhibition covered the pre-war, Modernist aspects of their huge collection, whereas this exhibition covers the period from 1950 to the present day.

The show includes an impressive roster of leading photographers to tell the story of postwar and contemporary photography, and includes celebrated works by Robert Mapplethorpe, Nan Goldin, Cindy Sherman, William Eggleston, Diane Arbus, Sally Mann, Zanele Muholi, Ai Weiwei, Carrie Mae Weems and many, many others.

Exhibition structure

The exhibition is arranged in the following themes. I’m cutting and pasting the curators’ wall labels (and highlighting them in italics) to give you a good feel for the show and the themes it covers. Then I list some of the most striking images, ones which have stayed with me for the few days since I visited, but only some – there were plenty more in each section.

At the end of this review is a gallery showing all the images we’re allowed to show to promote the exhibition.

1. Fashion

This section charts the evolution of fashion photography from the glamour of post-war Parisian couture to the globalism of contemporary clothing. During the 1950s, a fresh dynamism took over the magazines. Studio backdrops were swapped for city skylines, as in the work of Frances McLaughlin-Gill or Frank Horvat. Following the Swinging Sixties, revolutionary designers stepped onto the scene with daring looks prompting more provocative fashion imagery. Today’s photographers document the ever-changing culture of streetwear, celebrating self-made garments and individual expression.

I’m not very sympathetic to fashion but this small room contained some absolutely iconic images.

  • Richard Avedon – Dovima with Elephants, 1955
  • Helmut Newton – Elsa Peretti as Bunny, New York (on terrace of her apartment, costume by Halston), 1975
  • Richard Avedon’s shot of Nastassja Kinski draped with a huge snake, 1981
  • Herb Ritts – Versace Dress, 1990
  • Tina Barney – The Limo, 2006

Versace Dress (Back View), El Mirage, 1990 by Herb Ritts © Herb Ritts Foundation. Courtesy of Fahey Klein Gallery, Los Angeles

2. Stars of Stage, Screen and Studio

From giants of the silver screen to celebrated musicians and artists, iconic figures have long intrigued Elton John and David Furnish. Passionate about cinema, they have acquired images of actors such as Marlon Brando and Elizabeth Taylor whose glamour and showmanship epitomised Hollywood’s Golden Age. Frank Sinatra and Doris Day, who both succeeded in musical and movie careers, are pictured here at the height of their fame.

Portraits of rock, folk, jazz and blues performers, on stage and behind the scenes, honour the artistry
of musicians who revolutionised their industry. They include the Queen of Soul, Aretha Franklin, and the King of Rock ‘n’ Roll, Elvis Presley. John is particularly fascinated by those who suffered for their art and the collection contains multiple images of jazz trumpeter Chet Baker and Hollywood star Marilyn Monroe. In other pictures, we see portraits of painters and photographers whose life and work continue to inspire John and Furnish today.

  • Bob Willoughby – Billie Holiday, Singing at the Tiffany Club, Los Angeles, 1951
  • John Florea – Doris Day, 1952
  • Sid Avery:
    • James Dean, Close-Up with a Bolex Camera on the Set of Giant, 1955
    • Elizabeth Taylor Sunning Herself on the Set of Giant, Marfa, Texas, 1955
    • Marlon Brando with Bongo Drums in the Den of his Beverly Hills Home, 1955
  • Lew Allen – Elvis Presley Kiss, Cleveland Arena Concert, 23 November 1956
  • William Claxton:
    • Dinah Washington, Los Angeles, 1959
    • Mahalia Jackson, Chicago, 1960
    • Ray Charles with a Raelette, Hollywood, 1959
    • Duke Ellington, Hollywood, 1959
  • Herman Leonard – Chet Baker, New York City, 1956

Chet Baker, New York City, 1956 by Herman Leonard © Herman Leonard Photography, LLC

  • Richard Avedon – Bob Dylan, 132nd Street and FDR Drive, Harlem, New York City, 4 November 1963
  • Robert Freeman – The Beatles’ Boots, 1964
  • Richard Avedon – the Beatles, 1967
  • Lee Friedlander – Aretha Franklin, 1968
  • Terry O’Neill – Frank Sinatra in Miami Beach, 1968
  • Norman Seeff – Joni Mitchell, Los Angeles, 1976
  • Michael Halsband – Andy Warhol and Jean-Michel Basquiat #143, New York City, 10 July 1985
  • Irving Penn – The Hand of Miles Davis, 1986

To be honest, the exhibition could have stopped here because this blitz of famous musicians, movie stars and artists triggered a flood of memories of music and films and emotions. Impossible not to love the iconic images of, say, Mitchell and Monroe, the iconic shot of a very young Dylan etc. The boxing photo of Warhol and Basquiat is fabulous. But my standout piece in the room was Irving Penn’s three shots of Miles Davis’s hand. Four fingers which produced 40 years of unbelievably varied and powerful music.

3. Desire

Fabulous photos of gorgeous hunky beautiful young men in various states of dress and undress, so young and full of life and male beauty. So nice to see the male willy shot candidly and overtly, as just another part of the human body, sometimes a detail of a larger portrait, sometimes singled out for close-up scrutiny as by Mapplethorpe.

The photographs in this section reveal a desire for the male form, from subtle studio portraiture of the
1950s to more explicit exposure in contemporary works. As a celebration of the collection’s numerous
homoerotic pictures, once viewed as provocative or even scandalous, they elevate to the public realm
what previously remained hidden. Some photographers take an autobiographical approach to documenting their communities.

For artists such as Robert Mapplethorpe and Peter Hujar, who came to prominence in the early years of the gay rights movement, their intention was to shatter oppressive stereotypes and revel in their queerness. From the mid-1980s, the AIDS epidemic fuelled an urgency to visualise a community that had long been forced into the shadows. The statuesque male body in the pictures of Herb Ritts and Pierre et Gilles became a camp counterpoint to the relentless hostility of mainstream media.

  • Herbert List – Young men under Reed Roof, Torremolinos, Andalucía, Spain, 1951
  • Tamotsu Yatō – From the series Young Samurai: Bodybuilders of Japan, mid-1960s
  • Sunil Gupta – Untitled #21, from the series Christopher Street, 1976
  • Robert Mapplethorpe:
    • Patrice, 1977
    • Jack Walls, 1982
  • Tom Bianchi: his Fire island series [a series of photographs celebrating gay joy at a time when homosexuality was under attack in Reagan’s America]:
    • Untitled, 368, Fire Island Pines, 1975–83
    • Untitled, 780, Fire Island Pines, 1975–83

Untitled, 368, Fire Island Pines, 1975 to 1983 by Tom Bianchi © Tom Bianchi, courtesy of Fahey Klein Gallery, Los Angeles

  • Andy Warhol:
    • Self-Portrait, 1980
    • Self-Portrait in Drag, 1981
  • Herb Ritts – Fred with Tires, Hollywood, 1984
  • Gilbert & George – Naked Body, 1991
  • Pierre et Gilles – Life Saver, Shane, Sydney, 1995

4. Reportage

Elton John and David Furnish have a passion for photojournalism, actively searching out many famous examples of the genre. This selection begins with photographs from the Civil Rights era of the 1960s, a formative period for John. The images depict a heroic battle against discrimination as American youth mobilised to end racial segregation in the South. The freedom struggle took many forms and, against the background of the US bombing of Vietnam, it became more militant as the decade wore on. This was also an era of political assassinations, as seen in the portraits of leaders whose time was cut violently short.

Two other areas of reportage have a deep personal and public resonance for John and Furnish: the AIDS activism of the late 1980s and the terrorist attacks of 11 September 2001. The couple continue to collect photojournalism today, drawing connections between past and present.

America again. And the 1960s again.

Black Americans. New York City. 1962 by Bruce Davidson © Bruce Davidson Magnum Photos

It’s the decade curators and pop culture fans are drawn back to again and again and again like a dog to its sick. Martin Luther King, Civil Rights, the Freedom March, Malcolm X, Black Power, Vietnam protests, JFK, Bobby Kennedy being assassinated – all your old favourites are here. We’re only lacking Woodstock, Altamont and Jim Morrison poncing around on stage and we’d have the complete I-Spy Book of 60s clichés. Nothing from anywhere else in the world. The 1960s only happened in America.

Malcolm X, Chicago, Illinois, USA, 1962 by Eve Arnold © Eve Arnold/Magnum Photos

As did the Reagan 1980s and AIDS activism, the first Gulf War, 9/11, blah blah blah. America America America. There is a little flurry of abroad in the next section, with one photo from the endless civil war in Syria, another from the current conflict in Ukraine, and the bizarre assassination of the Russiabn ambassador to Turkey. But these rare exceptions only foreground the rule that this is a exhibition of (almost entirely) images from America.

  • Garry Winogrand – John F. Kennedy, Democratic National Convention, Los Angeles, 1960
  • Eve Arnold – Malcolm X, Chicago, Illinois, USA, 1962
  • René Burri – Che Guevara, Havana, Cuba, 1963
  • Danny Lyon:
    • Segregated Drinking Fountains in the County Courthouse, Albany, Georgia, USA, August 1963
    • Demonstration at an ‘All-white’ Swimming Pool, Cairo, Illinois, USA, 1962
  • Stephen Somerstein – Coretta Scott King and Husband Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., on Platform in front of Alabama State House, Smiling at the Crowd of 25,000 Marchers at Conclusion of 1965 Selma to Montgomery, Alabama Civil Rights March, 25 March 1965
  • John Dominis – American Track and Field Athletes Tommie Smith and John Carlos, First and Third Place Winners in the 200 Meter Race, Protest with the Black Power Salute, Mexico City, 1968
  • Boris Yaro – The Shooting of Robert F. Kennedy, Los Angeles, 1968
  • John Filo – The Grieving Student at Kent State University, 4 May 1970
  • Pirkle Jones:
    • Black Panther demonstration in front of the Alameda County Court House, Oakland, California, during Huey Newton’s trial, 30 July 1968
    • Black Panthers from Sacramento, Free Huey Rally, Bobby Hutton Memorial Park, Oakland, CA, 25 August 1968

The caption to the Black Panther photos made me smile. The curators write:

The Panthers consciously projected a militant ethos and relied on supportive photographers and filmmakers to promote this image. The strategy proved highly successful, terrifying mainstream America and resulting in extensive harassment and criminalisation of the Party by the FBI.

You can feel their righteous identification with these fearless activists for Black rights. And then you turn the corner and are confronted by a wall of photos of 9/11 and instantly reflect, ‘Well, I can think of another organisation which “projected a militant ethos” and “relied on supportive photographers and filmmakers” (and social media experts) for its impact, which “terrified mainstream America and resulted in criminalisation by the FBI” – al-Qaeda. Black Panthers – the right kind of terrifying mainstream America; al-Qaeda, not so much.

Let me be absolutely clear that I am in no way mocking what happened on 9/11, I am as appalled as anyone at what happened, and am awed by the bravery of the New York emergency services. I am  gently mocking art gallery curators who, here as everywhere, like to flirt with radical chic and sympathise with ‘revolutionary’ movements, as long as are from long ago and no longer present the slightest threat to the current state of bourgeois society, one of whose typical embodiments is…the art gallery.

There are half a dozen or so heart-wrenching photos of 9/11 which really bring home the dazed horror of the day.

  • Richard Drew – The Falling Man, 11 September 2001
  • Jeff Mermelstein from the series Ground Zero, 11 September 2001
    • Fireman with Tears, 2001
    • Statue, 2001
    • Tree and Skeleton of Tower Two, 2001
    • Red Cube, 2001
  • Ryan McGinley – Sam (Ground Zero), 11 September 2001

5. The American Scene

I laughed out loud when, after being dazzled by American music, movie and art stars, then bombarded with a comprehensive recap of the 1960s in America, you walk round the corner into the next section  to discover that it is all about…America!

American photography resonates strongly in the collection, including images by many of the most influential artists of the post-war period. Robert Frank, Diane Arbus, William Eggleston and Lewis Baltz feature prominently, all iconoclasts who broke with established practice to produce a less than idealised vision of the country. Subjects range from the anonymity of the urban environment to historically charged landscapes in the rural South. The road trip, the haphazard expansion of the American West, and the extraordinary glimpsed within the everyday are potent recurring themes.

Having lived in Atlanta for three decades, Elton John has collected many important works from the American South, including photographs by Henry Clay Anderson, Alec Soth and Sally Mann. Uncomfortable histories are not ignored. The USA is pictured unsparingly through the camera lens.

  • Roy DeCarava – Catsup bottles, table and coat, 1952
  • Saul Leiter:
    • Canopy, 1958
    • Snow, 1970
  • Lee Friedlander:
    • Newark, New Jersey, 1962
    • Florida, 1963
    • New Orleans, 1968
  • William Eggleston:
    • Near Minter City and Glendora, Mississippi, about 1972
    • Greenwood, Mississippi, about 1973
    • Memphis, Tennessee, 1971
    • Untitled (Coca-Cola and Peaches! Sign), 1973
    • Sumner, Mississippi, Cassidy Bayou in Background, 1971
  • Stephen Shore, from Uncommon Places:
    • Holden Street, North Adams, Massachusetts, 13 July 1974
    • Graig Nettles, Fort Lauderdale, Florida, 1 March 1978
    • US 10, Post Falls, Idaho, 25 August 1974
    • El Paso Street, El Paso, Texas, 5 July 1975
  • Alec Soth – The Farm, Angola State Prison, Angola, LA, 2002

The Farm, Angola State Prison, Angola, LA 2002 by Alec Soth © Alec Soth and Weinstein Hammons Gallery

There is a small sequence devoted to the great Diane Arbus, great, excellent, if rather predictable but, yet again, here we are, back in the 1960s, in New York. Where we were in the previous section. And the section before that. And the section before that.

  • Identical twins, Roselle, N.J. 1966
  • Transvestite couple at a dance, N.Y.C. 1961
  • Exasperated boy with a toy hand grenade, N.Y.C. 1963

6. Fragile Beauty

Two photographers are of immense significance to Elton John and David Furnish: Nan Goldin and Robert Mapplethorpe. Both escaped the strictures of their suburban upbringing for the bohemian subcultures of New York City during the 1970s. For both Goldin and Mapplethorpe, photography was intensely personal, a way to keep things real. They strove to create an intimate portrait of their generation, representing the lives of alternative and queer-identified communities that had long been stigmatised by mainstream America. Other images speak to human vulnerability and the creativity of transgression. Mary Ellen Mark, Larry Clark and Ryan McGinley are drawn to young people on the fringes of society, presenting classic images of rebellion. Transgender star, Candy Darling, lies dying in her hospital bed. Philip-Lorca diCorcia stages portraits of male prostitutes on the streets of Los Angeles. For John and Furnish, these and similar photographs suggest the fragility that lies at the heart of the human condition.

‘The human condition’? Or the American condition? Or, even more limited, just the New York condition?

Self Portrait, 1985 by Robert Mapplethorpe © Robert Mapplethorpe Foundation. Used by permission

  • Richard Avedon – Andy Warhol and Members of the Factory, 30 October 1969
  • Peter Hujar – transgender actress Candy Darling [an Andy Warhol superstar and a muse of The Velvet Underground] on her Deathbed, 1974
  • Larry Clark – from the series Tulsa, 1963 to 1971
  • Ryan McGinley:
    • Raina (Falling Bridge), 2005
    • Dakota Hair, 2004
    • Drive in, 2005
    • Self Portrait (Lip Tattoo), 2005
  • Alec Soth – Nan’s Bed, Brooklyn, New York, 2018

Robert Mapplethorpe features in most of the other sections but this section contains the biggest sample of his work. The curators explain why:

The collection includes many photographs by Robert Mapplethorpe, relished by John and Furnish for their masculine beauty. This selection reveals the artist’s embrace of neoclassicism, as seen in the images of marble busts or chillingly beautiful flower arrangements. But the transgressive Mapplethorpe is also present, including his haunting last self-portrait holding a death’s-head cane. Aged just 42, wheelchair-bound and succumbing to AIDS-related illnesses, Mapplethorpe nonetheless created an enduring statement of human vitality.

  • Self Portrait, 1985
  • Italian Devil, 1988
  • Calla Lily, 1988
  • Double Jack in The Pulpit, 1988
  • Poppy, 1988
  • Self Portrait, 1988
  • Apollo, 1988

Poppy, 1988 by Robert Mapplethorpe © Robert Mapplethorpe Foundation. Used by permission

Nan Goldin – ‘Thanksgiving’

As the curators write:

Nan Goldin’s photography holds a very special place in the collection. Thanksgiving spans a quarter of a century from Goldin’s youth in Boston to intimate snapshots of her bohemian circle in New York City. The installation acts as a shrine to friends and lovers – some now deceased – and as a memorial of their love for one another. For John and Furnish, seeing Thanksgiving was a revelation and they immediately identified with the shared joy and vulnerability the artwork conveys.

And:

A 149-image series, shown in its entirety in the exhibition, ‘Thanksgiving’ documents events from 1973 to 1999 and depicts some of the most intimate and emotional moments in Goldin and her community’s lives, from the euphoric to the sensual to the distressing. Displayed floor to ceiling, the photographs become an intense homage both to the friendships that survived those twenty-six years, and to those friends she has lost.

Exhibitions often talk about immersive experiences but this genuinely is one. They’ve created a space (not really a room since the walls don’t reach to the floor, more a square space created by four walls suspended from the ceiling) which are absolutely covered with scrappy, spontaneous-feeling photos of Goldin’s extended circle of friends over many years. Suffice to say that these people lived in amazing squalor, mess and degradation in what look like a series of squats, skinny half-dressed, in all kinds of casual poses, at parties, at home, in unmade beds. I found it fascinating to enter and completely surrounded by so many powerful images of Bohemian poverty and squalor. The woman I visited with felt so desperately sad for these woeful looking waifs and strays that the total immersion in their squalid lifestyle made her want to cry and she had to exit the rather claustrophobic space. Either way, it’s a powerful experience.

Nan Goldin, Jimmy Paulette and Taboo! In the Bathroom, 1991 Nan Goldin © Nan Goldin. Courtesy of Nan Goldin and Gagosian

7. Constructed Images

Since the late 1970s, advances in printing technology have enabled photographs to become bigger, bolder and more closely integrated with the worlds of fashion, film and advertising. The theatricality and playfulness of these works resonate with Elton John and David Furnish who understand the skill required to create visual spectacle.

Constructed images allow photographers to articulate different identities and more challenging narratives. Whether grappling with politics, presenting personal histories or investigating the nature of photography, these pictures often invite us to question our perceptions. Artists such as Mickalene Thomas and Lalla Essaydi stage scenes to explore the performative nature of femininity, sometimes even casting themselves in the lead role as in the work of Cindy Sherman. Others in this section create physical interventions, collaging, cropping, smashing and manipulating the picture surface. These experimental works offer endless possibilities for telling stories through the lens.

By this point of the exhibition we had been exposed to maybe 200 striking, vivid, moving, historic, glamorous and evocative photographs by a wide range of modern masters. I’d have been quite happy for it to have ended with Robert and Nan’s New York mementoes. But there’s still a lot more still to process.

I don’t know whether the quality fell off or I was just exhausted. There seemed to be fewer striking images in this section, and the notion of constructed images justified some very contrived pieces such as Yasumasa Morimura’s jokey recreation of the famous portrait of Albert Einstein sticking his tongue out, but redone as pastiche. In a similar vein – pastiche and parody – is Cindy Sherman’s famous sequence of herself posing as various Hollywood stereotypes. America. New York. Hollywood.

Sherman was the subject of an exhibition at the National Portrait Gallery.

Untitled Film Still #17, 1978 by Cindy Sherman © Cindy Sherman, courtesy of the artist and Hauser & Wirth Gallery

There are more non-Americans in this section, including works by Japanese and German photographers.

  • Hiro (Yasuhiro Wakabayashi) – Shinjuku Station, Tokyo, Japan, 1962
  • Andreas Gursky – Pyongyang II, 2007, a vast panorama capturing the Arirang Mass Games in
    Pyongyang: I’ve been staggered by Gursky’s huge images of vast scenes in other settings, notably at the Hayward Galley exhibition devoted to him, but here this one-off image felt cramped and failed to impact

But America still dominates, typified by a big work by Alex Prager (Crowd #1 (Stan Douglas) from 2010). The Prager was a good example of the approach thoroughly covered in the exhibition devoted to her at the Photographers’ Gallery.

There are three big colour photos by David LaChapelle, depictions of rather laboured visual jokes:

  • Leonardo DiCaprio: Illusion of Levitation, Hollywood, 1995
  • Tupac Shakur: Becoming Clean, Los Angeles, 1996
  • Elton John: Egg On His Face, New York, 1999

Elton John: Egg On His Face, New York, 1999 by David LaChapelle © David LaChapelle

Crying men by Sam Taylor-Johnson

Another sequence, to set beside Mapplethorpe’s flowers and the powerful Nan Goldin installation, was a series by film-maker Sam Taylor-Johnson called ‘Crying Men‘ (2004). Now it would have been something if she had asked ordinary men to express their feelings, just regular guys, especially from Taylor-Johnson’s own country, England (she was born in Croydon). But that would be to mistake the entire ethos of John and Furnish’s collection and of this exhibition, which, as I’ve mentioned, is characterised by – indeed stricken by – glamour and stardust.

And so Sam Taylor-Johnson asked ‘some of Hollywood’s greatest male talents’, including Hayden Christensen, Benicio del Toro, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Laurence Fishburne, Michael Gambon, Robin Williams and Daniel Craig, to act tearful, and snapped the results.

The seven big colour photos cover a wall and you can play the game of who is the most convincing cryer. For me it was Daniel Craig, who looked genuinely distraught, followed by Robin Williams, our reading of the latter influenced by knowledge of his sad end.

Crying Men (Laurence Fishburne), 2002 by Sam Taylor-Johnson © Sam Taylor-Johnson

The photos in this section were big in a way nothing up to his point had been. New digital technology and print capacity has allowed photographs to become ever-larger, with mixed results. There was a big striking image of an orange fabric forming an abstract sculpture in a landscape – K9 (2018) by Eamonn Doyle – which is, the label tells us, part of a series keening for his dead mother. But in the midst of so much parody, pastiche, burlesque and play-acting, it was hard to take it seriously. I mean it was difficult to switch gear from admiring artifice and contrivance to registering something which actually seemed to be serious.

It was also noticeable that for the first time many of the photos in this section are not from America. Photographers from China, Japan, South Africa, Zimbabwe, Ireland, Germany and Morocco are featured.

8. Towards Abstraction

Drawn to the challenge of pushing at the boundaries of image-making, Elton John and David Furnish have built a significant collection of abstract photography. Abstraction enables artists to exploit the malleability of their medium, offering a way of propelling the image beyond ordinary appearances. It provides a means of exploring the creative scope of camera processes, expanding our understanding of what a photograph might be.

John and Furnish collect works that move along a continuum of form, hovering between the delineation of objects and pure abstraction. The selection here investigates a range of techniques, including colour photograms by Adam Fuss, and black and white cameraless photographs by James Welling and Alison Rossiter. Other images reveal the sublime architecture of New York City or extend an artistic obsession with the body as a site of visual experiment.

  • Richard Caldicott:
    • Untitled #59, 1998
    • Untitled #169, 2000
    • Untitled #63, 1998
  • Thomas Ruff – Nudes vo18, 2002
  • Alison Rossiter – Gevaert Gevarto 48K, exact expiration date unknown, ca. 1960s, processed 2013 (#17), 2013
  • Ray K. Metzker – Nude Composite, 1966
  • Wolfgang Tillmans – Super Collider #3, 2001

Tillmans was the subject of a big exhibition at Tate Modern.

There’s a work by Hiroshi Sugimoto who was the focus of a wonderful exhibition at the Hayward Gallery. Niko Luoma makes abstract versions of well-known artworks, in this case a well-known painting by David Hockney – ‘Self-Titled Adaptation of A Bigger Splash (1967), 2019’, which was interesting but not compelling.

Most striking, for simple biographical reasons, was the big photogram portraits of John and Furnish’s children, taken by Adam Fuss:

To create his photograms, Adam Fuss lays a piece of unexposed photographic paper at the bottom of a shallow pool of warm water. A parent briefly places their baby in the pool, and a burst of flashlight captures its shape on the paper. The result is a unique portrait silhouetted against a golden light. Here, John and Furnish’s two children, Zachary and Elijah, have been immortalised in a baptism by  photography.

Zachary, 2011 by Adam Fuss © Adam Fuss. Courtesy of the artist and Fraenkel Gallery San Francisco

9. Collecting Now

Elton John and David Furnish continue to acquire photography, adding regularly to their holdings. New purchases keep collectors sharp, incrementally shifting the shape and meaning of the whole collection. The latest acquisitions featured here embody themes that resonate throughout the exhibition, of the intense vulnerability that underpins creativity, of the essential fragility of existence. The couple continue to explore multiple, complex sensibilities in their passion for photography. Fragile beauty is the filament that binds it all together.

The last space is brief, with only half a dozen bang up-to-date works:

  • Thomas Struth – X-ray Telescope, CAST, CERN, Ferney-Voltaire, 2021
  • Zanele Muholi – Labo I, Torino, Italy, 2019
  • Trevor Paglen – Bloom (#a5808a), 2020
  • An-My Lê – Fragment IX: Jefferson Davis Monument, Homeland Security Storage, New Orleans, Louisiana, 2017, from the series Silent General, 2015–present
  • Wardell Milan – Here the mysterious host – raised in the South, now based in the North curates a
    gathering of friends seeking sanctuary, 2020
  • Tyler Mitchell – Simply Fragile, 2022

Simply Fragile, 2022 by Tyler Mitchell © Tyler Mitchell. Courtesy of the artist

The last image, and the one which gives the show its title, is, of course, of an American in America shot by an American. Right to the very end this is a huge, dazzling exhibition of American people, American settings, American issues.

In praise of Elton John

I have nothing but respect for Elton John. I first saw him live in Hyde Park in 1976 where he performed his hit single with Kiki Dee, ‘Don’t Go Breaking My Heart’. He’s a brilliant performer and has had an astonishing career, turning out evergreen pop hits decade after decade.

I also admire the tremendous resilience John showed in the face of the vicious British tabloid press, which hounded him in the 70s and 80s, meretriciously attacking every aspect of his private life, his homosexuality, his substance addictions, his ill-fated first marriage and so on. He is a hero for facing down and surviving the jackals of the British media, and all the other attacks he’s had to endure, not just surviving but triumphing, as recorded in his defiant song ‘I’m still standing’.

Also I admire and respect the work he’s done for charity, especially AIDS charities, as well as the way he’s carried the torch for gay and queer identity through really hard years of persecution in the 1970s and 80s. I think he is an immensely admirable man and I wish him, his husband David, and their two children (I mention them because they feature in the show) nothing but the best.

Criticisms

American cultural imperialism

But oh America, America, and yet again America. More Americana, more American history, more American singers and performers, more Hollywood stars, American glamour and American squalor, American landscapes and American cities, yet another exhibition in London by Americans about America. Yet another example of London art curators’ shameless obeisance to American cultural imperialism.

And the 1960s, again! Dylan and the Beatles and Andy Warhol and Black Power and Robert Kennedy and Vietnam, good grief, yet again these tired, hackneyed images.

I’m afraid the famous photo of the woman wailing over the body of one of the students shot in the infamous Kent State massacre (‘The Grieving Student at Kent State University, 4 May 1970 by John Filo) didn’t trigger distress at the event so much as distress at being caught in the same tired loop of news footage from the 1960s.

By the time I got to the reportage room I was becoming sick of America and all its over-publicised travails. It’s the exhibition equivalent of Groundhog Day, trapped in endless corridors of American art by American artists agonising about bloody America.

I love Elton John and everything he stands for, and he and Furnish have obviously amassed a mind-boggling collection of photographs – but the combination of his stage-struck obsession with music and movie stars, with the New York art and fashion world, and a very New York-centred view of gay and queer identity, dominate the show’s aesthetic from start to finish and ultimately came to feel so very narrow, so very limited.

By contrast, I recommend you visit the Photographers’ Gallery in Soho, where you pay just £8 to see the exhibitions (currently, Ernest Cole from South Africa and Graciela Iturbide from Mexico) or can pop downstairs to the Print Sales Room for FREE, and soak up a continually changing roster of photographers from all round the world, whose work is often strange and unsettling and funny and genuinely original in ways most of the works on display here, in my view, rarely are. I’m just too over-familiar with American culture and, to most intents and purposes, heartily sick of it.

Ryan McGinley

This is the photo, by Ryan McGinley, which has been used for the exhibition webpage, poster, and merchandise.

Dakota Hair, 2004 by Ryan McGinley © Ryan McGinley Studios

McGinley crops up in several of the sections:

Ryan McGinley caught the attention of New York’s art scene with his raw documentation of himself and his friends on the City’s Lower East Side. From 1999, he photographed every visitor to his apartment, resulting in more than 10,000 Polaroids, each labelled with a date and name. The Polaroids covered his bedroom walls, acting as a backdrop for this intimate sex scene.

And:

Ryan McGinley garnered attention as a photographer of street culture, hanging out with skateboarders, graffiti artists and indie musicians. [In Sam (Ground Zero), 11 September 2001] his friend Sam cycles through the ash and debris at Ground Zero on the day of the terrorist attack on the World Trade Center. It suggests the desire to investigate an event that would come to define the experience of a generation.

And, regarding this Dakota Hair image:

In the summers of 2004 and 2005, Ryan McGinley left New York City for a series of road trips, driving with teams of models and assistants across the USA. Although carefully planned and produced, the resulting photographs maintain the sense of youthful freedom and spontaneity for which McGinley became  famous. As he put it in 2007, his images envisage, ‘a world that doesn’t exist. A fantasy. Freedom is real. There are no rules. The life I wish I was living’.

American photographers taking American photographs of American people in American cities or American landscapes living out American dreams of glamour, adventure or squalor, trapped inside American culture and the American mindset. It was a relief to exit the exhibition into a gallery full of wonderful works from other countries, times and places, because countries other than America do, in fact, exist.


Related links

  • Fragile Beauty continues at the Victoria and Albert Museum until 5 January 2025

More V&A reviews

Zanzibar by Giles Foden (2002)

‘My dear boy, this is Africa.’
(Beaten-up old Brit, Ralph Leggatt, to naive young American, Nick Karolides, in Zanzibar, page 97)

This is a 389-page thriller about the 1998 embassy bombings in East Africa:

The 1998 United States embassy bombings occurred on 7 August 1998. More than 220 people were killed in nearly simultaneous truck bomb explosions in two East African cities, one at the United States Embassy in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania, and the other at the United States Embassy in Nairobi, Kenya.

Like many a thriller it opens with short, elliptical sections devoted to a handful of disparate characters. Only slowly do we find out more about them and begin to realise that their paths are ‘destined’ to cross. They are:

Khaled al-Kidr, native of Zanzibar who, aged 21, comes home to find his mother and father dead with their throats cut. He wastes his inheritance on drinking and women until an uncle figure, Zayn Mujuj, confides that his father worked for a secret Islamic organisation and was murdered by American-Israeli agents (p.53). At which point Khaled signs up for jihad, travelling to work for ‘the Sheikh. in Sudan and then onto an al-Qaeda training camp in Afghanistan where, after extensive training, he is flattered to be chosen for a special mission.

Jack Queller, a former CIA agent and expert on the Arab world, conduit of resources to the mujahideen in the 1980s (p.306), who had his arm amputated after a firefight in Afghanistan, is now a consultant at the Bureau of Diplomatic Security (known as DS), in his personal life haunted by the death from cancer of his wife who we wasn’t there to support, lives an isolated depressed existence on a seafront property on Martha’s Vineyard (p.141).

Nick Karolides, an American of Greek descent, a marine biologist, taking up a new job on a coral reef protection scheme off the island of Zanzibar. Unhappily haunted by the death of his father who was a keen diver till a shark bit off his arm and he died on the way to hospital, whereupon his mother retreated into (Greek Orthodox) religious fervour.

Miranda Power, keen young American State Department trainee who, as we meet her, has been given her first posting, as an Executive Assistant, Logistical and Security, to the American Embassy at Dar es Salaam, Tanzania.

By about page 50 we’ve been introduced to these characters and have a strong feeling that their lives are going to intersect.

(Notice how all the western characters are American. So quite apart from the extraordinary range and depth of research demonstrated in the text – about life in Zanzibar or marine biology or al-Qaeda – Foden is also ventriloquising the lives and speech patterns and culture of a range of American characters, a distinct new departure from the British or African characters depicted in his previous novels.)

A book teaches readers how to read it. By about page 70, we’ve realised that Foden is going to be interleaving, interweaving and interspersing narratives about these different characters. It’s going to be very episodic. This leads to several results:

  • it creates narrative tension, because you realise they’re going to meet and interact so the interest is in seeing how, and with what results
  • it creates dramatic irony i.e. juxtaposing characters who see the same thing but from different angles (the huge example is the completely different interpretation the Americans and al-Qaeda give to the previous 20 years of history)
  • this irony can be used for comic effect, as in the chapter which juxtaposes very short, half-page fragments of dialogue of the two enemies: between, on the one hand, Osama bin Laden and his acolytes in their Afghan hideout; and lectures being given about Osama bin Laden by a series of CIA and security experts (we see these lectures because they’re attended by one of the central character, Miranda)

This kind of jumping between scenes featuring characters who are going to eventually meet up in a fateful event is standard operating procedure for many thrillers. Or you could describe the effect as musical, the deliberate counterpointing of different characters, atmospheres and motifs. Or maybe compare it to collage, in art – like cutting out images from magazines and pasting them next to each other in unexpected juxtapositions.

Cast

Page numbers refer to when someone is first introduced, or first speaks, or when a significant fact about them is mentioned. I suppose it’s a kind of index of characters. Or cast list.

  • Khaled al-Kidr, young recruit to al-Qaeda
  • Queller, retired badly injured American agent (p.7), now works at the Bureau of Diplomatic Security, known as DS (p.47), first name Jack, used to be top Arabist under Reagan (p.52), full title (p.52)
  • Lucy, Queller’s wife who died from cancer and he feels guilty about not having been around to support
  • Nick Karolides, marine biologist, born and raised in Florida – tall, tanned, handsome, fit from his daily swim
  • his mother (unnamed), who’s become a religious fanatic since the death of his father (p.14)
  • Nick’s dad (unnamed), keen diver, who had his arm bitten off by a shark and died on the way to hospital
  • Dino, wiry 60-year-old owner of Dino’s Wine Shop, was diving with Nick’s dad when the shark attacked (p.20)
  • Inspector Chikambwa, unfriendly and (it turns out) corrupt marine policeman on Zanzibar, the USAID contact for the project Nick goes to Zanzibar to work on (p.27)
  • George Darvil, Nick’s predecessor who died in suspicious circumstances, found drowned, his boat riddled with holes (p.28)
  • Mr de Souza, proprietor of the Macpherson Ruins Hotel (p.29), very short and extraordinarily beautiful (p.32)
  • Leggatt, European clove farmer who also does boat tours, Ralph by name (p.82), made his money in copper and silver then diamonds in Sierra Leone (p.121), runs a clove farm, owns a yacht, the Winston Churchill (p.96)
  • Zayn Mujuj, changes Khaled’s life by recruiting him for jihad (p.45), big man, ‘enormous’ (p.230), Palestinian (p.222)
  • Ahmed the German, Osama bin Laden’s companion and cameraman (p.45) wears a Sport Team Osnabrück t-shirt, which becomes a leitmotif identifying him as the bomber (pages 143 and 282)
  • Yousef, al-Qaeda bomb maker (p.45), last name Mourad (p.295)
  • Ayman al-Zawahari, leader of Egyptian Jihad (p.62)
  • Muhammed Atef, al-Qaeda’s military commander (p.62)
  • al-Qaeda, first mentioned (p.43), described (p.66)
  • the Taliban, keeping guard over the al-Qaeda base (p.50)
  • Miranda Power, executive assistant, Logistical and Security, American Embassy, Dar es Salaam, Tanzania (p.51), Boston Irish, dad a cop (pages 151 and 184)
  • Morton Altenburg, Director of Operations, FBI (p.55), young and successful and scornful of Queller’s obsession with al-Qaeda
  • General Tom Kirby, Department of Defence (p.56)
  • Osama bin Laden (p.62) described by Queller (p.66 and elsewhere)
  • Tim Catmull, Brit working for the Department for International Development (DFID) (p.78)
  • Sayeed, boy accompanying the thugs who beat up Leggatt and tie him up on Lyly before Nick comes to his rescue; who they coax down from the rigging of Leggatt’s yacht; and who Leggatt gives a job
  • Ray Delahoya, American comms guy at the Dar embassy (p.103), cheerfully vulgar, likes junk food and low culture, apparently gay (fancies the tough Marine guards, pages 245 and 249)
  • Turtle Mo, a big imposing East African trawler baron, who Nick hires his diving gear from (p.126)
  • Olivier Pastoreau, Belgian land reclaimer who works for the European Development Fund, proud owner of a handsome white motor cruiser, the Cythère (p.130), amusingly pessimistic
  • Clive Bayard, only African American in the Dar Embassy (p.244)
  • Nisha Ghai, Asian employee in the embassy (p.244), killed in the bombing
  • Lee Denham, the one intelligence officer at the Dar embassy (p.245)
  • Corporal Rossetti, Marine on duty when the bomb goes off, helps badly injured Ray (p.247)
  • Juma, gate guard at the embassy
  • Dr Macintyre, embassy physician (p.259)
  • President Bill Clinton phones the chargé d’affaires’ house where the wounded have been brought to condole with them (p.262), condemns the attacks on TV (p.270), makes an extensive speech on TV (pages 305 to 306), forced to defend himself in the Starr investigation that he perjured himself lying about his affair with Monica Lewinsky (p.325), announces retaliation against al-Qaeda (p.331)
  • William Cohen, US Secretary of Defence, seen on TV condemning the bombing (p.270)
  • Madeleine Albright, US Secretary of State, seen on TV (p.270)
  • National Security Director Sandy Berger, explaining America’s retaliatory strikes against Sudan (p.332)
  • Omar el-Bashir, President of Sudan, calling the American attack on the pharmaceuticals factory ‘a terrorist act’ (p.339)

Part 1

Nick settles into his new post as USAID coral guy in Zanzibar, meeting locals friendly and unfriendly. Miranda flies out and settles into her new job at the US Embassy in Dar es Salaam. Khaled undergoes further training in preparation for his mission to blow up the same US Embassy.

As usual Foden is very, very good indeed, supernaturally good, at imagining these people’s lives and thoughts, and the hundreds of details, interiors, accessories, food and drink, cars and bikes and boats and tropical stuff they interact with. It is incredibly well imagined.

Nick gets to know a raddled, grumpy old Brit named Leggatt via an adventure. He had observed Leggatt’s yellow boat slowly cruising across the bay in the same direction every day. The hotel owner tells him he (Leggat) is visiting a small island named Lyly. Nick decides to go explore in his dinghy and outboard. He finds the island and beaches his dinghy and walks along the shore where, through binoculars, he spots Leggatt digging up turtle eggs. The bastard! But then a native dhow approaches and two men and a boy get out, swim ashore. Nick thinks they must be nature wardens so is astonished when they beat up Leggatt, tie him to a tree, and take all the eggs themselves. The attackers head back to their boat, Nick runs over and unties Leggatt (he’s bleeding from the beating), they run back to Nick’s boat and start the engine and motor round the coast to find the boy up in the sails of Leggatt’s boat, ripping up the sails and rigging with a knife. He has the idea to fire a safety/rescue flare at the bad guys’ dhow, where it sets fire to their sails. Nick and Leggatt get to the latter’s yacht, climb up the side ladder, Nick tying his dinghy to the stern, Leggatt starts the yacht’s motor and they chug away from the island and the burning dhow. Nick corners the boy who is quickly subdued.

Leggatt explains that he is not the bad guy, he is the one trying to protect the turtle eggs by digging them up and moving them to a secret location. When Nick naively suggests reporting the egg thieves and boy to the USAID contact, Inspector Chikambwa, Leggatt snorts with laughter an says he’s corrupt and commission the stealing of the eggs, among many other scams (p.97).

Leggatt tells him the island’s named Lyly which comes from the Swahili lala which means sleep. It’s 2 miles wide with a lighthouse on the highest point, built by a Brit in the 1930s. Nowadays it’s owned by a rich Saudi. Leggatt tells Nick about the Black African slaughter of Arab civilians soon after Zanzibar became independent i.e. 1964 (p.99).

Leggatt’s an old hand, he’s been fishing and monitoring these waters for decades, owns a house and several boats, made his pile from diamonds. He drops Nick and his dinghy off at the hotel. A few days later Leggatt takes Nick fishing for barracuda, a strong fighting fish. This fishing expedition is a set-piece which makes you think Foden must have done it, and been shown how to do it, in order to produce such a detailed description (pages 112 to 115).

There’s a lovely description of Nick rowing a rowboat back to his oceanside hotel (the Macpherson Ruins Hotel). I used to row at school, so I know exactly what he means (p.100).

Meanwhile Miranda settles into a completely new society. I think we are meant to register the decisions she makes as small moral compromises, accustoming herself to the grotesque poverty of most of the population, while she licks ice cream by the embassy pool. She soon hires a watchman and a ‘housegirl’ for her accommodation in Oyster Bay, as all the other ex-pats do. She falls in with Ray Delahoya, cheerful, fun, not a threat or boyfriend material (only a hundred pages later is it made explicit that he’s gay).

We’re shown security reports she files which are conscientious. If the reader is paying attention they’ll spot that a character described in bin Laden’s entourage is caught on security camera himself filming the Embassy layout, from outside the walls (p.123).

Part 2

Carries on in the same style. Khaled and the al-Qaeda team (Khaled’s mentor Zayn and Yusef the bomber) drive south through Afghanistan into Pakistan, fly to Dubai, to Muscat, then direct to Zanzibar (p.139). The movement of their van is picked up by spy satellites and the message sent to the CIA etc in America. Queller is asked to comment and thinks they’re embarking on an attack and need to be monitored. But his suggestion is shot down by his enemy within the CIA, Alternburg. Queller really hates Altenburg because he a) nixed a spy operation he’d set up and b) has been politicking to get Queller sacked as a consultant.

Nick and Miranda finally meet, as he’s in Dar to pick up the scuba gear he had sent on from the States. She bumps into him, they get talking, they go for a swim. She notices he is tall, dark, fit and handsome, almost like the hero of a movie. She gets into a bit of trouble in the sea; is pulled out by his strong arms etc. She gives him a lift into town and when he says he’s shopping, drives him past security into the Embassy where he fills up at the PX, the American supermarket found in all overseas bases.

Nick goes on a solo mission to Lyly, the deserted island where he and Leggatt had the adventure with the turtle egg thieves, ‘the island of sleep’. Beaching his dinghy he scratches his ankle. He has come surprisingly unprepared, without a toilet bag, for example or, more importantly, sunblock and a sunhat. He explores the small derelict house and abandoned mosque, manages to fire up the lighthouse light using paraffin he’s brought but half-blinds himself in the process. Diving through the spectacular coral, he finds a sea cave which, amazingly, appears to have Arab writing carved into the (slime-covered) walls (p.171). Later, Leggatt explains that it’s part of a whole cave and tunnel network where slaves used to throw recalcitrant or recaptured runaway slaves. Oubliettes. Hence the long-ago writing.

Nick invites Miranda to come visit Zanzibar from Dar for a weekend. He takes her (and the reader) on a tour of the sights. (I wonder if it’s a safe place for a tourist to visit, now, in 2023.) He takes the traditional male role i.e. showing her round, explaining history etc. She takes the traditional female role, passive, deferring to his knowledge. When they dance he has ‘strong hands on her hips’ etc. All very conventionally heteronormative and well mannered. In the refined, polite tone of this book no-one fantasises or masturbates or farts or menstruates, as they do in Leslie Thomas’s vulgar comedies. Makes me realise that the thriller genre is not only serious (obviously) but also, in a strange way, prissy, at some level, respectable. It’s the tiniest details but when Miranda is upset she doesn’t cry, as you or I might, but weeps, like the heroine of a Racine play. Even when it’s at its most gritty, there’s a kind of high-minded decorum about the thriller genre.

Anyway, I didn’t like this lovey-dovey stuff at all. Also the romance dialogue is very stilted and, well, boring. Next day, Nick takes Miranda to a beachfront restaurant then onto a tropical garden where he finally kisses her.

Something had happened, a change had taken place, the needle had swung around in the compass of her heart. (p.188)

Foden is a very savvy writer indeed, capable of deploying lots of different registers and styles. Surely he knows he’s writing Mills and Boon here. For the lolz I googled ‘Mills and Boon top titles’ and found the following: ‘Song of the Waves’; ‘The Emerald Garden’; ‘Tabitha in Moonlight’; ‘Rapture of the Desert’; ‘Whispering Palms’. To which could be added these passages from ‘Romance in Zanzibar’. The only slight fly in the ointment being that we know this is all heading towards a monstrous terrorist attack. I wonder if one or both of them will be killed in it. Or maimed. Both Foden’s previous novels contain scenes of brutal violence and bump off characters you’d become quite attached to. I suppose I should savour the kisses in the tropical garden while I can…

Nick persuades Leggatt to take him and Miranda back to Lyly. He shows her how to scuba dive, they frolic, find their way to an isolated spot of beach and have sex, mercifully passed over in silence and undescribed. Then an incident where they find a huge mamba snake uncovering the turtle eggs with a view to eating them, and Nick catches it with a forked branch and throws it into the undergrowth. More interesting that her being lulled and seduced is the way Nick starts to get on her nerves, a bit charmless, a bit clumsy, unempathetic, and then assuming masculine ownership of her.

The al-Qaeda cell

What happens next utterly transforms the tone and feel of the book. When they’d left Lyly, a powerful cruiser had crossed their path, apparently en route to the island. Miranda had looked at its crew and skipper through the telephoto lens of her camera and nearly taken a photo but then it veered away.

A day or so later Leggatt and Nick had gone back to the island and discovered there were two dhows and a cruiser pulled up. Nick had gone inshore in the diving gear and this section opens with him watching them from a distance, going in and out of the buildings where he slept, apparently Arabs, some sporting sub-machineguns.

Then a huge storm comes up which sinks the Churchill. Leggatt and Nick manage to abandon ship and get into the dinghy and cut the painted just before the big yacht goes down. With heroic strength Nick rows the dinghy through the coral barrier (guided by Leggatt) and ashore. Leggatt says they’ll never make it back to the mainland in a rowing boat; the only thing for it is to steal one of the dhows and to do it now, in the dead of night and while the aftersqualls of the storm are still making bad weather. They wade through the thick jungle, emerge on the side of the island where the Arabs are, try to sneak across the beach but are spotted. The Arabs open up with the machine guns, killing Leggatt and brushing Nick’s forehead. When he comes to, he is trussed up hand and foot and the enormous Arab, Zayn, whacks him with the flat of a machete, asking if he is American, hitting him, insulting him, till he says he’ll be back tomorrow to interrogate him and…throws Nick out the lighthouse window, attached by a rope, so that he is dangling upside down, his head bangs against the outside wall of the lighthouse and he loses consciousness again.

See what I mean by changing the tone of the narrative? We were in the western world of pampered tourists, all ice cream, skindiving and scotch on the veranda. Now we are in the world of jihad and unmitigated brutality.

Thing is, the way Zayn slit their throats reminded Khaled of how he returned home that terrible evening to find his parents’ throats cut. Zayn always told him it was done by Israeli-American agents but…but what if Zayn did it? Plus Zayn has been riding Khaled, pushing him and bullying and belittling him, on one occasion pushing his face right into their campfire. This isn’t jihad. This is sadistic bullying. And so…

So he goes up to the top of the lighthouse, hauls Nick’s unconscious body up and over the window sill, then leans down with a knife…Next morning the American is gone and Zayn angrily kicks and punches Khaled to find out what happened, at which Khaled shows him the American’s ear, says he cut it off as punishment then threw the body in the lagoon. Zayn is angry because he wanted to interrogate the American and also suspicious, as is the reader.

Miranda

Cut to Miranda at the US embassy and we discover that they didn’t have sex that time, on the island. I misread it. They were goofing in the waves, walked up the beach out of sight of Leggatt and lay down…there’s a gap in the text…which resumes with ‘Later, they walked back round to the fire’ (p.197). I misread this as them having sex. No. Because now, in this section, Miranda wonders whether she should have had sex with Nick, and worries whether the kiss she let him give her in the tropical gardens ‘meant more’.

I’m not sure, but I think all this fussing about lovey-dovey is meant to be an indicator of how shallow and naive Miranda is, on a par with her not understanding why America is so hated, and being upset by slavery and African poverty i.e. generally not understanding where she is. Conversely, maybe she is there to bring out the extraordinary distance between the poorest people on the earth and the richest.

7 August 1998: the bombing

Miranda is going about her normal day when, on page 252, the bomb goes off. It was 7 August 1998. The Wikipedia article gives forensic details about the make-up of the explosives then states that at Dar es Salaam 11 were killed and 85 wounded (p.260), considerably less than the bomb which went off at the Nairobi embassy, killing 213 and wounding about 4,000 (p.261).

Part 3

Hundreds of FBI, CIA, medical and forensics experts fly in from the Sates, including the prick Altenburg and kindly old Queller. These personality traits are on display when Miranda finds herself being given the third degree in an interview by Altenburg, and then horrified to find he has gotten her suspended for dereliction of duty for not inspecting the van which is now thought to have been carrying the explosives. Distraught, her world in tatters, her self confidence shot, she goes home weeping.

Queller sees all this and takes steps, calling up his old buddy Madeleine Allbright to ask for Miranda to be reinstated and assigned to him as his personal assistant. Which is what happens.

I thought the buildup to the explosion might be tense and exciting but it isn’t. It just happens, out of the blue, while Miranda’s going about a mundane morning’s work. If ‘grip’ or excitement there is, it comes from a completely different direction, which is The Hunt For Nick Karolides. Miranda becomes increasingly obsessed with the way he hasn’t been in touch, hasn’t replied to phone calls or emails. So flies from Dar to Stone Town (capital of Zanzibar) then taxis out to the Macpherson Ruins Hotel whose owner, Mr de Souza, is just as perplexed by Nick’s prolonged absence.

When she goes out to Leggatt’s farm she finds him also absent, but persuades the boy Leggatt hired, Sayeed, to organise a boat to take her back to Lyly. On the beach at Lyly they find the rotted body of Leggatt with an ear missing. So the reader realises it wasn’t Nick’s ear that Khaled cut off.

This happens on page 302. The book is 389 pages long. In these last 90 or so pages the interest focuses on two things: Miranda’s search for Nick; and the bitter contest between the two American intelligence operatives, Altenburg (who thinks the al-Qaeda connection is poppycock) and Queller, who is sure of it.

In a flashback we learn that Queller not only helped the mujahideen in Afghanistan but met Osama bin Laden several times, helped channel funds which not only armed the fighters but built airstrips, the cave complex in the Tora Bora mountains etc (pages 306 to 315). And then, extraordinarily, that it was Osama bin Laden himself who shot Queller in the elbow at their last meeting, as a warning to him, and all American ‘crusaders’ to get out of Muslim lands.

Where is Nick?

On page 317 (of 389) we discover what happened to Nick. We haven’t seen or heard of him since page 236, so he’s been absent for 80 pages or a fifth of the text. Presumably, one aim of this is to build up suspense about his fate, amplified by Miranda’s growing concern.

We find him cast adrift in a rowing boat without oars on the open ocean. He vaguely remembers someone bundling him into the boat then throwing away the oars and himself jumping overboard – presumably Khaled, saving his life. Over several pages we watch the effects of exposure, heatstroke, sunburn and dehydration. Nick has both ears and is unharmed except for the rope burns and where the bullet grazed his head but he quickly degenerates after a few days into a burned, blistered, hallucinating wreck.

Until he is picked up by a passing Greek cargo ship. He sees it emerge from the blurred horizon, stands up, waves his arms and shouts etc. The Greek crew wash him, slowly give him water, then soft food and restore him to health. Lucky, eh? Big ocean, the Indian Ocean.

Nick is of Greek heritage so when he starts speaking Greek, the crew and captain rally to his support. Presumably this is thrown in to explain/justify why the captain lets himself be persuaded to sail close to Zanzibar and not to dock in the main port – where he’d incur ruinous charges – but get close enough to the Macpherson hotel to be rowed ashore.

Which explains why, on the night when Miranda has flown to Zanzibar and taken a taxi to the hotel to enquire about him, and persuades the manager to let her sleep in Nick’s room…she hears the chalet door opening and…Grand Reunion! He staggers into her arms, tries to explain, she makes him have a shower while she gets a first aid kit from de Souza, makes him lie on the bed, tends his wounds like a good nursey, they lie facing each other, they touch, they make love.

His pains forgotten for a while – loving her for that mercy, and for the adventure of her body – he gathered her into his arms once more. (p.330)

Well…’Romance in Zanzibar’. Apparently, Mills and Boon novels are organised into sub-genres, one of which is ‘Heroes – Enjoy a thrilling story filled with danger and finding love no matter what.’ Well, these passages are a fine example.

He moved down her body, covering her stomach and pelvis with subtle kisses till, like a hummingbird over a flower, he began flicking his tongue over her. (p.330)

I’m not sure this is what a man who’s just returned from days in an open boat, who’s still suffering from wounds to his head and knee, which are still bleeding, would be up for. But the conventions of the thriller genre override any kind of realism.

Bill Clinton

It’s a funny mix, this text, because it goes from ripe Mills and Boon-type soft porn to our newly committed couple watching President Bill Clinton on TV explaining why he ordered US air strikes on the al-Qifa pharmaceutical factory in Sudan and a complex of training bases near Khost in Afghanistan (p.332). Nick and Miranda consume the TV news in puzzlement at the randomness of this target.

Passages describing the process whereby the targets were listed, assessed and agreed, and then the process of launching the missiles, read like magazine journalism, possibly from a military magazine. At one point Foden directly quotes a US Navy press release describing the operation of Tomahawk cruise missiles (pages 335 to 339).

Foden gives a roundup of responses to the US cruise missile attacks which reads like a Wikipedia article, giving quotes from the President of Sudan, the Taliban government, Arab newspapers etc, all of which describe the Americans as war criminals operating outside the law. Tony Blair gives Clinton his whole-hearted support. This is all very interesting but a) not really a novel and b) was all to be swept away in the vast tsunami of 9/11 and the War on Terror. The US retaliation prompted Foden to snide and snarky remarks about America being ‘one nation under God, indivisible etc’ which feel like cheap sarcasm, unworthy of his extraordinary gifts.

A passage describing Osama bin Laden’s thoughts as he rides a horse, far from where the missiles struck, with his closest lieutenants – Ayman Zawahari and Muhammad Atef – and personal bodyguards.

Khaled

A passage describing Khaled al-Khidr, praying in the mosque in Jambangona, on the island of Pemba where his parents came from and his jumbled thoughts, containing an impressive number of quotes from the Holy Koran and Khaled’s theological speculations, in particular whether Zayn, with his bullying and murder, led him from the path of righteousness.

The passage quoting Bill Clinton describing America as ‘one nation under God, indivisible’ (p.337) is deliberately paralleled by Khaled thoughts about the redeemed in Islam, ‘one nation, indivisible’ (p.345) – just one of many examples where Foden juxtaposes the value systems of ‘the West’ and ‘the Islamic world’ to bring out how their belief systems are so similar and yet so different.

Khaled is giddy with guilt, confused, wanders the streets of his home town in utter confusion, falls to his knees.

Cut to Zayn Mujuj, the big strong killer. He and Khaled had escaped after the bombing and gone to meet the cargo ship appointed to pick them up but it never showed. Instead they moored off the island of Pemba for a few days, Zayn calling the Sheikh for daily updates. We learn that Zayn, himself, is motivated by revenge, namely the wiping out of his family in Beirut, by the Israeli air force and the Christian phalange. Maybe he’s talking about the Sabra and Shatila massacre in September 1982. This is the source of his burning hatred. And now we learn Khaled was right to suspect that Zayn killed his (Khaled’s parents); he did, as punishment for embezzling al-Qaeda funds (p.348).

Now the boy has disappeared. Zayn phones the Sheikh on the sat phone. They speak in light code. Zayn says the boy (the finch) knows too much and must be eliminated. He takes a dinghy from the boat up the creek to Jambangona.

Exciting climactic chase

Foden reverts to small snippets giving different characters’ points of view: this is meant to jack up the tension. Thus, Queller gets a call from Altenburg back in Washington telling him SIGINT has picked up those sat phone calls off Pemba: could he go and investigate. He asks Nick and Miranda (instead of, say, some US marines or security forces) to help him. They putter off to Pemba in the Belgian guys’ boat (seeing as all the others have been lost earlier in the story). Meanwhile the killer Zayn has arrived in Jambangona with a big knife in his long boots. Who will get to Khaled first? Will Khaled recognise Nick as the American he saved? Will Nick recognise Khaled as the boy who saved him, dragging him half-conscious into the rowing boat and casting it adrift back on Lyly?

Zayn doesn’t find Khaled in Jambangona and so chugs upriver to Chake Chake, roaming the streets with murder in his heart. Nick, Miranda and Queller arrive at the map reference given by Alternburg to find nothing so they, also, chug upriver to Chake Chake, and here they spot the same motor cruiser they saw an age ago cutting them off as they returned from Lyly, the terrorist’s boat.

The climax comes when our heroes discover that they have arrived in town at the exact same moment when an annual festival takes place, the mchezo wa ngombe, the game of the bull, when brave youths taunt and try and jump onto two enraged bulls (named Bom-Bom and Wembe, I thought you’d like to know) in an arena. Lucky coincidence. Also improbable is that, at this moment of peril for his life, Khaled, throwing caution to the winds, tries his luck in the arena against the bulls. And that Zayn, attracted by the hullabaloo, sees him. And that Nick, amid the pressing crowd, sees both of them, tells Queller, and starts elbowing towards them. You can see how this has the logic more of a move than a novel.

Long story short: Zayn chases Khaled across the arena; one of the bulls gores and tramples him; Khaled escapes over the arena fence, through the crowd, and down backstreets, pursued by Nick, Miranda and Queller. First he’s cornered in a tourist shop, then escapes, then Nick tackles him, Queller steps forward with a gun, but Khaled grabs a dagger from a stall and Miranda and puts it to her neck, backing away as in ten thousand American movies. He drags her down to the quayside and into the terrorists’ boat, finds the key, powers up, casts off and motors away, hotly pursued by Nick and Queller, suddenly feeling his age, feeling tired, overcome by a sense of depression and failure.

Out of the crowded streets emerges Zayn, bleeding and furious to see his boat cruising away so he cuffs a white tourist off his jet ski and sets off in hot pursuit. Now the narrative has gone full James Bond.

Showdown on Lyly

Khaled steers out to the island of sleep, location of quite a few nightmares by now. Nick and Queller watch him beach and drag Miranda up the sand into the jungle. Queller shoots a way through the coral breach and they, also, beach their boat. Nick tells Queller to stay behind and guard the boat, takes Queller’s gun and sets off in pursuit. God, the excitement!

Khaled drags terrified Miranda through the caves at gunpoint. Nick gets lost pursuing. Queller investigates various jungle trails and on returning to the beach notices a jet ski lying on its side. Zayn is clearly badly injured, needs a stick to lean on. Queller, binocular distance away, takes a marlinspike out of the boat and slowly sets off in pursuit.

It’s called ‘suspense’ but what it boils down to is, Who is going to die? Khaled and Zayn, I’d guess, and possibly Queller, for his sins in aiding bin Laden. But it’s anyone’s guess; Foden is a brutal writer and hasn’t hesitated to wipe out sympathetic characters in previous books.

In the slimy caves Khaled undergoes a crisis, becomes hysterical , tells Miranda about Zayn killing his parents, admits involvement in the bombing, no longer knows what is jihad, what is righteous, drops the knife, pulls out a gun he found on Zayn’s boat, then disappears into the darkness.

On the beach Queller gets to the lighthouse then loses the trail. Turns round just as Zayn smacks him in the face with a plank of wood, grabs the marlinspike, lifts it to skewer Queller.

Nick finds Miranda cowering, shivering, in the caves.

Queller looks up at the man about to kill him when there’s a gunshot and, as in a thousand American movies, a hole appears in Zayn’s forehead, he shudders, and falls dead across the terrified American. Khaled appears, explaining – to Queller – who shot Zayn. He then delivers his Speech the speech which explains his Change of Heart. It is time for him to stop killing, to turn to do good work for Muslims. Queller asks him to come back with them but Khaled very reasonably says, just because I stop trusting al-Qaeda doesn’t mean I start trusting America. Then he’s gone.

Soon afterwards Nick and Miranda appear and pull the big heavy dead Zayn off Queller. Khaleed steals the Belgian’s very expensive cruiser and shoots holes in his own one, so our guys are stranded. Nick and Miranda wash the slime off themselves in the sea, they all sleep in the lighthouse, next morning helicopters find them.

The end

Nick, Miranda and Zayn’s body are choppered back to the mainland where they find themselves celebrities, the story of their chase and shootout somehow all over CNN. Then in a convoy of those huge black FBI SUVs which appear in all the movies, to some local base.

Miranda stares blankly out the window, Nick falls asleep and Queller has last thoughts about bin Laden and al-Qaeda. Will he ever be tracked down? (Yes) Can such an organisation be defeated? (No) Queller reflects that globalisation only entrenches local elites, often working hand in glove with multinational corporations, to maintain most of their populations in resentful poverty, from which are spawned endless fundamentalisms (p.377). Improbably, he has an old man’s hope for a better world, more equality, defusing violence etc. Pipe dream. There are 8 billion humans alive today. In 20 years it will hit 9 billion. More crushing poverty. More grievance. More violence.

All improbable as it is an American security service official wishing for the end of capitalism or its superseding by a fairer system. Not very likely. Sounds more like the thoughts of some Limey pinko novelist.

(Oh, I spotted Foden’s placing of a micro-joke; the SUV convoy roars past a hoarding advertising ENVI skin cream (p.377). Now a hoarding advertising this same product plays a role at the end of ‘The Last King of Scotland’ when Idi Amin, his regime overthrown, asks the novel’s protagonist, Dr Garrigan, to meet him at the ENVI hoarding to drive him to safety. Garrigan doesn’t go. I wonder if there are other sly echoes I didn’t spot.)

Coda

Miranda’s in Washington. Queller’s being investigated, for some reason. Nick didn’t want to stay, asked her to come back to Zanzibar but she didn’t want to leave, so they’ve split up and she wanders round Washington’s memorials feeling soulful.

Queller is being called for questioning in Washington about his links with al-Qaeda in the 80s. He knows he’s being set up as the fall guy. He writes a complete documentary account of his actions and sends it to Miranda. Tries on the latest spiffy prosthetic limb that’s arrived through the post. Has a drink. Reaches for his pistol and shoots himself in the head.

Nick after toying with staying in the States, has come back out to Zanzibar, done up the derelict cottage on Lyly and made it into a home. He is going to protect the turtles as homage to Leggatt. He is trying to be mindful. He is trying not to live in illusions. But he can’t help missing Miranda. It wasn’t true love but it was a lot.

Thoughts

Moral debate?

Because of the focus on the main characters at the start, because we are given such privileged access to Khaled’s life, tragedy, training and motivation, and because the book’s blurb says that Nick and Miranda become ’embroiled’ in a terrorist conspiracy – I thought they might have met Khaled, got to know and like him, then found out what he was going to do and there might have been some kind of agonising moral debate and so on when they try to talk him out of it, he goes ahead anyway… But no.

Inventive structure?

Again, Foden writes that ‘the event’ as the Americans quickly take to calling it, messed with people’s sense of time and place and identity, severely traumatising all involved, and so it crossed my mind that Foden could conceivably have run with that idea and created a postmodern jumping back and forth in time. At a few moments when Nick or Miranda were dazed and disorientated, the psychotic fictions of J.G. Ballard briefly came to mind.

But no. The narrative is much, much more straightforward than that, almost totally vanilla. This happened then this happened then this happened then this happened. The characters do stuff then there’s a big explosion then they rush off to catch the baddies. However brilliantly imagined and vividly written every scene is, and despite a few passages of tricksy juxtapositions, for the most part, structurally, it’s a very conservative book.

Al-Qaeda

The book contains several set-piece passages where the kindly old Queller gives straight explication about al-Qaeda’s history and aims, bin Laden’s speeches, the group’s structure and bases in Afghanistan. He describes how the US government funnelled hundreds of millions of dollars worth of training and munitions to the mujahideen, building secret hideouts, training them in guerrilla warfare etc, all skills and weapons which, with world-class irony, once the Soviets had finally quit Afghanistan, bin Laden and al-Qaeda turned against their western backers.

I’m guessing that at the time Foden drafted the book, all this was relatively specialist, niche stuff, and his up-to-the-minute research was news, and it was cutting edge to include it in a novel.

Unfortunately for Foden, before his book could be published along came 11 September 2001 and the entire world’s media suddenly overflowed with everything known about bin Laden and al-Qaeda, who became the subject of hundreds of books, thousands of documentaries, millions of articles – and the novelty of Foden’s book, its claim to shed light on a little-known terror organisation, evaporated overnight.

Must have been very galling. Then came the US invasions of Afghanistan then Iraq and the chaos they caused, covered on the telly and across all the media every night for years. So for the modern reader, the passages where Queller carefully explains bin Laden and al-Qaeda to Miranda (like pages 290 to 293), interesting refreshers though they are, can’t help but feel somewhat quaint and dated.

The risk of writing about contemporary politics or world affairs is that your text will be overtaken by events even as you write it. Compare with anyone half-way through writing a novel about Ukraine when Russia invaded and rendered the whole thing academic. Imagine you were just putting the finishing touches to your book about the current situation in Israel when Hamas attacked. It’s a high-risk strategy for a novelist. Safer to go that much further back in time, to when events are settled, complete, assimilated and contextualised – which is precisely what Foden did in his next novel, Mimi and Toutou Go Forth: The Bizarre Battle for Lake Tanganyika, set during the First World War. Can’t get more past, finished and over than that.

And yet…

For all my nitpicking, it’s an awesome book, an epic book. You really feel like you’ve been through the wringer, on a long journey, had an epic adventure. I felt quite shattered by the end of this long, dense book – informed about al-Qaeda and bin Laden, thrilled by the plot, and delighted by the thousand and one precise descriptions Foden encodes in his prose.

Swahili phrases

  • chamchela – hurricane squall (p.210)
  • chibuku – the local beer (p.252)
  • dar es salaam – haven of peace (p.243)
  • mlango – door
  • mnara – lighthouse (p.224)
  • mpuga za peponi – the gardens of paradise (p.220)
  • muzungu – white man
  • mchezo wa ngombe – the game of the bull (p.355)
  • pole-pole – slowly slowly
  • papabawa – Zanzibar vampire
  • twende! – let’s go (p.295)
  • zinj el-bar – coast of the black people (p.153)

Credit

Zanzibar by Giles Foden was published by Faber and Faber in 2002. References are to the 2003 Faber paperback edition.

Giles Foden reviews

Africa reviews

Marina Abramović @ the Royal Academy

This is an amazing exhibition by an extraordinary artist.

Marina Abramović is one of the most famous performance artists in the world. This major retrospective, filling all 11 rooms of the Royal Academy’s main exhibition space, takes you on a rollercoaster ride through her extraordinarily prolific, disruptive, endlessly inventive career and works.

Door into Marina Abramović at the Royal Academy. Photo by the author

Early years

Abramović was born in 1946 in Belgrade, then freshly liberated from Nazi occupation and the capital of newly communist Yugoslavia (now, of course, the capital of Serbia). There is a room devoted to her interaction with communism which we’ll come to later.

From 1965 to 1972 Abramović studied as an academic painter in Belgrade and Zagreb. However, towards the end of that period, she began to engage with the era’s radical political and artistic ideas which expanded the definition of art far beyond traditional media such as painting and sculpture. In the early 1970s she began to create work which would help define and shape the emerging genre of performance art.

What is performance art?

According to Wikipedia:

Performance art is an artwork or art exhibition created through actions executed by the artist or other participants. It may be witnessed live or through documentation, spontaneously developed or written, and is traditionally presented to a public in a fine art context in an interdisciplinary mode.

By definition, for most performance art you had to be there to experience the full thing, very similar to theatre. But it can, of course, be recorded in writing, photographs or video. The exhibition proceeds in more or less chronological order through Abramović’s career, using just such media i.e. video, photo and writings, to convey her numerous performances and activities, along with documentation and the props, or recreation of props, used in various performances.

Re-enactments

One of the exhibition’s huge attractions is that is also includes re-enactments of four of her most iconic pieces. These are being reperformed in the UK by performance artists live in the Academy galleries, for the first time. These live performances are reperformed by performance artists trained at the institute Abramović set up for the purpose, the Marina Abramović Institute. They are:

  • Imponderabilia (1977) approximately 1 hour per performance
  • Nude with Skeleton (2002) approximately 2 hours per performance
  • Luminosity (1997) approximately 30 minutes per performance
  • The House with the Ocean View (2002) performed continuously over 12 days, 24 hours per day

Stillness and endurance

What set Abramović apart from the beginning was her practice of taking everyday actions and turning them into strange and disturbing rituals through stillness and endurance. She pioneered using the live body in her work and has consistently tested the limits of her own physical and mental tolerance.

A lot of performance art is very confrontational, lots of shouting and dancing about, but what Abramović’s version confronts you with, above all, is the spectacle of her endurance. Most of her performances are very passive. If you were expecting wild dancing, gesticulation, recital, verbalising, forget it. All four of the performances put on here, and may of the others recorded on video, are about complete stillness. She holds the same pose for hours. But her ability to persist in ritualised positions raises all kinds of thoughts in the mind of the spectator – about human endurance, female endurance, and her personal endurance.

Endurance

For example, I found one of the most moving pieces a recent film projected on the wall of Abramović standing in a grimly derelict kitchen, dressed in a Victorian-style black dress, holding a bowl of milk which is full up to the brim. Standing stock still, without moving.

That’s all. But, of course, as the minutes tick by, this simple pose becomes steadily harder to maintain as her muscles protest at the rictus position, start quivering, then shaking which, of course, spills the white milk down the front of her dark dress, at first in small drops, then bigger drips.

This is clearly a video someone has taken of the original video, which explains the wobbly camera and zooming in and out. Still, it conveys the experience:

I can’t really put into words why I found this so staggeringly moving and poignant. So simple, so brilliant,  saying something haunting about the human condition, the poverty of so many mundane human tasks, the pitifulness of human vulnerability.

Here’s a description of the fuller context from the Fondation Louis Vuitton website:

‘Carrying the Milk’ was filmed in the abandoned kitchen of the Laboral University of Gijón (Asturias, Spain) which was originally built to be an orphanage. In this self-portrait as a foster mother, the artist, austere and dressed in black, in the monastic setting of this time-ravaged kitchen, ‘religiously’ holds a container of milk. Despite an apparent stillness and a mind inhabited by action, the artist trembles, gradually spilling the white liquid on her long black dress. The milk references the initial purpose of the place, and the kitchen resembles that of her pious grandmother, where family life took place. With the addition of a mystical reference – the performances of ‘The Kitchen’ series are inspired by the life of Saint Teresa of Avila – and her contemplative nature, Marina Abramović explores the precarious balance between body and spirit, considering her work as a form of spiritual purification.

Confrontations

One of her most famous early works was ‘Rhythm 0’ from 1974. In this Abramović presented herself as an object to be acted upon. She stood motionless for eight hours alongside a table of 72 implements capable of being used for pain or pleasure, for the public to use on her as they wished.

Initially hesitant, some audience members became increasingly violent, stripping Abramović to the waist, cutting her skin, and even holding a gun to her neck. When the performance ended and Abramović moved, the public fled the galleries. The trauma of the experience turned part of the artist’s hair white.

Recreation of the trestle table covered with (scary) implements which Abramović invited gallery visitors to apply to her in ‘Rhythm 0’ (1974), with video footage projected on the wall behind. Photo by the author

What does that tell us about human nature, not just the audience’s which became steadily more abusive, but about Abramović’s for conceiving and then putting up with the performance? And then our attitude, 50 years later, comfortable gallery goes watching this ritual of degradation? Strange eddies of disturbing thoughts…

Forty later she performed ‘The Artist is Present’ at the Museum of Modern Art in New York. She set up a table in the atrium and sat at it every day for three months. Members of the public were invited to sit silently opposite the artist for a duration of their choosing, their gazes meeting. The faces of both the audience members and Abramović herelf were filmed and photographed during the process. The footage indicates how much the experience challenged, discomfited and disturbed the visitors, sitting in the hot chair, forced into an intense one-on-one human confrontation but with none of the talking, greeting, etiquette and gesturing which normally defuses and manages such a situation. Instead the intense confrontation of human and human, triggering really deep feelings of disquiet and anxiety.

Installation view of ‘The Artist is Present’ showing a bank of stills of Abramović juxtaposed with stills of the many gallery visitors who sat opposite her. Photo by the author.

Imponderable

Several of the staged reperformances involve nudity (real live naked people!) in the gallery. The most famous one, and the most interactive, is the work titled ‘Imponderabilia’. This is an extremely simple but devastatingly effective idea. Have two naked people stand on either side of a narrow doorway so that visitors to the gallery are forced to squeeze between their naked bodies. Here’s a record of the original performance from 1977, featuring Marina and her performance partner Ulay.

Imponderabilia by Ulay / Marina Abramović (1977) Galleria Communale d’Arte Moderna, Bologna. Courtesy of the Marina Abramović Archives © Ulay / Marina Abramović

And here it is recreated now, in 2023, at the Royal Academy by some of the performers from the Marina Abramović Institute.

Installation view of ‘Imponderabilia’ by Marina Abramović (1977/2023) Live performance by Agata Flaminika and Kam Wan. Courtesy of the Marina Abramović Archives © Marina Abramović. Photo © Royal Academy of Arts, London / David Parry

I went through it, twice. You can’t go through facing forwards, you have to face one or other of the naked people. The friend I went with was amused to see whether I would face the boobs or the willy. Both times I faced the man to avoid the slightest accusation of wanting to brush against bare boobs.

In the event, this teenage question of embarrassment is irrelevant because it turns out to be a really intense, highly charged experience. It’s impossible to put into words but I felt a tremendous bolt of embarrassment, self consciousness, physical awareness, strangeness, which seized me for the 3 or 4 seconds it took to squeeze through.

Usually I go through an exhibition in a fairly sober, unruffled, detached mode and mostly react to works intellectually and clinically. But I was really disturbed by this brief experience. I loitered just past the door for a few minutes trying to figure out what just happened to me, almost feeling the need to sit down and recover. So did a middle-aged woman who came through me after me, and we both tried to put it into words but couldn’t, perplexed and disturbed.

Nudity

There’s one other nude performance in the show. In ‘Nude with Skeleton’ (2002) a naked woman lies on a dais or platform and two white-clothed assistants carefully position a full-length human skeleton on her body, then walk away. Then we, the audience, watch a naked woman quietly breathing, with every breath the white skeleton rising and falling. What is going on?

Installation view of ‘Nude with Skeleton’ (2002/2005/2023) Live performance by Madinah Farhannah Thompson. Courtesy of the Marina Abramović Archives and Galerie Krinzinger © Marina Abramović. Photo © Royal Academy of Arts, London / David Parry

The question of nudity is worth discussing a bit. I live in England, a notoriously tightly wrapped, prudish society with a surprising amount of embarrassment around nudity and boobs in particular (page 3, the media’s obsession with side boob, under boob etc). So you have to address that in your mind and try to park it i.e. eliminate the prurient part of your reaction. Because clearly nudity is about something else, it’s about the human body in a completely open, exposed, vulnerable state. As I approached the two naked people my overwhelming feeling was how small they were, how open and defenceless. For a moment I was overcome with compassion for poor struggling humanity, its weakness and helplessness. No wonder so many people believe in God, surely this isn’t all there is, this poor bare forked animal.

But in a piece like the skeleton work you can see how nudity is appropriate because it very much is about the body, and the skeleton within us all, to which we will return. In other words, you can argue that nudity is appropriate when the subject matter is the human body, in the door piece, the skeleton piece.

As a general rule, it’s arguable that you have understood a work (of art or literature or whatever) when you are able to see round it enough to criticise it. What I’m driving at is that, although nudity may be appropriate in many works, you can question whether it’s necessary for all of them. There’s a film in the Communist room where Abramović starts off in a white doctor’s coat declaiming a speech to camera and something about her tightly wrapped hair and her stiletto shoes and the fact you couldn’t see a dress under the coat made me suspect she was about to strip off. I bet my friend she would and, after five or so minutes of talk, she did, indeed, take off the white coat to reveal a sheer black negligée in which she proceeded to do a very energetic folk (gypsy) dance, her boobs bouncing all over the place.

I didn’t find it erotic, I found it funny because it felt so predictable. It had the heavy logic of ten million soft porn movies and so it wasn’t surprising, unexpected or engaging. (It wasn’t total nudity, either, just to be clear.)

I think what I’m trying to say is that a focus on the body, the female body, and on the naked female body, can be surprising, inventive, confrontational, disorientating and creative. But it can also become a mannerism, a quick way of getting a reaction, a shock tactic.

So, back to the ‘Nude with Skeleton’ performance, the room it happened in was dark and packed, with many people sitting on the floor, like an infants’ school play, but what was chiefly interesting was watching the white-coated assistants trying to balance a skeleton on a naked person. This was trickier than it sounds because the naked person kept breathing, bits of their body moving up and down, so that bits of the skeleton kept slipping off the smooth skin. It was like watching someone setting up a tricky window display.

Once the white-coated assistants had finished and walked away and there was just a naked person lying under a skeleton, all the drama disappeared and the watchers stood up, stretched, looked around and walked away. Being a few yards away from a naked women felt surprisingly, well, meh… That also was odd, strange, worth pondering…

Collaborating with Ulay

‘Imponderabilia’ is just one of many many performances Abramović staged with German artist Ulay, real name Frank Uwe Laysiepen. They met in 1975 and Ulay was, for a decade or more, her partner in performance and life. One particularly big room features multiple screens on which are projected half a dozen black-and-white films from the 1970s in which they staged various interactions.

The curators blandly comment that these films ‘explore male and female dualities’ but you feel quite a massive amount more than that is going on, something profound, deep and searching about human nature, the human predicament, human limits.

In one they are standing facing each other and take it in turns to shout at the top of their lungs for a single breath. This feels very 70s, very primal scream therapy. On the screen next to it they are involved in a deep French kiss.

Shouting then snogging: installation view of some of the videos made by Marina Abramović and Ulay. Photo by the author

On the wall is a set of prints showing them facing away from each other but linked by their long hair which is plaited together into a Gordian knot.

In a particularly intense video, ‘Rest Energy’ – obviously more recent as it’s in colour (1980) – they pair stand with Ulay holding the feather end of an arrow strung in a bow while Marina grips the wooden bow itself and slowly leans back away from him, thus creating a greater and greater tension, with the arrow all the while pointing at her body. If he fumbled or slipped, the arrow would shoot through her neck. The ultimate trust exercise. As I watched I could feel my body tensing up and my breathing becoming more anxious.

The ultimate trust exercise: installation view of the Marina Abramović exhibition at the Royal Academy of Arts, London © Marina Abramović. Photo © Royal Academy of Arts, London / David Parry

The couple split up in 1989, in fact during one of their largest-scale performances.

Walking the Great Wall

For in the next room we learn that Abramović and Ulay set off to walk from opposite ends of the Great Wall of China, intending to meet somewhere in the middle and get married (!). In the event, by the time they actually met, after some 90 days of solo walking, they realised their relationship and their period of working together was over. This room displays film footage of each performer walking, titled ‘The Lovers, Great Wall Walk’ (1988), which leads up to a ritualised separation.

But that’s arguably the least interesting thing in the room. During the walk Abramović became fascinated by all things related to the wall, learning that it was built along the earth’s energy lines, reading up on Chinese and Tibetan medicine. She had become conscious of passing over stones that held vast quantities of geological and human energy.

One tangible output of this was a set of huge prints which seem to be a sort of brass rubbing of different parts of the wall, in different styles and patterns. These were just really lovely to look at, interesting to see the very wide range of brickwork involved, but also beautiful to look at as abstract patterns and designs.

Installation view of ‘The Lovers, Great Wall Walk, Wall Rubbings’ by Marina Abramović (1988) Photo by the author

The room also features urns in two media. There are two big black urns, one shiny, one with a dull matt finish which, apparently, symbolise Ulay and Abramović and, more generally, the male and female principles – titled ‘The Sun, The Moon’ (1987) . According to the curators:

They speak to themes of the duality and symbiosis present in many of the couple’s works, yet also marked the breakdown of their artistic and personal connections. Abramović realised: ‘The vases represented us and our inability to perform together anymore.’

They are big and black and a pleasant shape. Nice things to look at.

Installation view of the urns, the urn prints and the Great Wall of China rubbings © Marina Abramović. Photo © Royal Academy of Arts, London / David Parry

But they’re given an extra dimension by a set of big prints of urns on the wall behind them, three urns and a scarf, titled ‘Modus Vivendi: Urn 1, Urn 2, Veil, Urn 3’. Like the brick rubbings and the two urns this doesn’t seem to have much to do with performance in any way. They’re just beautiful and beguiling images, lovely pastel colours, shimmering asymmetrical images, and a pleasing sense that they’re made on rough-hewn parchment adding to a sort of rough-hewn ethnic finish.

Installation view of Urn prints by Marina Abramović. Photo by the author

Video

Here’s an excerpt from what looks like a longer video about Abramović and Ulay’s relationship which, alas, makes them sound like everybody else, but does include some footage of the bow and arrow performance, of their earlier confrontational performances (mutual slapping) then goes heavy on the ill-fated Wall of China walk.

The Communist Body

This room brings together works about or referencing Abramović’s origins in the communist state of the former Yugoslavia. Communism was obviously a repressive system but it did preserve peace and security among the Balkans’ squabbling nationalities, a situation which swiftly broke down into brutal internecine wars with the collapse of Yugoslavia in 1991.

Abramović’s parents Danica Rosić and Vojin Abramović had been partisan fighters in the Second World War. Celebrated as heroes they were rewarded with coveted state jobs. The strictures of communist ideology – from extreme physical discipline to restricted freedom of speech – shaped Abramović’s early years and her subsequent formation as an artist.

The five-pointed communist star appears in many early pieces, as she explored communist ideology and its impact on herself and others. In ‘Rhythm 5’ (1974), this took the form of a wooden structure which was set alight as she lay within it. The resultant dense smoke was suffocating and caused the artist to faint.

Installation view of the long panel displaying photos of the performance of ‘Rhythm 5’ by Marina Abramović. Photo by the author

The following year she incised a star into her abdomen as part of the performance ‘Lips of Thomas’, leaving behind an indelible scar on her body. Abramović left Belgrade in 1976 but continued to feel a close tie to the region.

Balkan Baroque

Obviously she was affected when, from 1991 onwards, her native country collapsed into a series of interlocking civil wars marked by astonishing brutality. At the Venice Biennale in 1997 she presented ‘Balkan Baroque’, a complex and multifaceted reflection on her homeland.

This consisted of two elements, videos and an activity. On the wall were projected three videos, in the centre a film of Abramović dressed in the white coat of a doctor and reciting a folk story about a rat catcher, before taking off her coat to reveal herself as (in her own words) ‘a sexy dancer’ who proceeds to dance the Hungarian Czardas. In smaller projections to left and right of her film of her father and her mother, filmed in a series of static poses reacting to the narrative and then the dance, the father ending up with a pistol in his hands, the mother at first showing empty hands and then with crossed hands on her eyes.

Meanwhile, part two of the piece was Abramović herself sitting amid a huge pile of animal bones fresh from the abattoir and slippery with blood and gristle, and attempting to wash and clean it. In her own words:

It was summer in Venice, very, very hot and after a few days already worms start coming out of the bones. And the smell was unbearable. The whole idea that by washing bones and trying to scrub the blood, is impossible. You can’t wash the blood from your hands as you can’t wash the shame from the war. But also it was important to transcend it, that can be used, this image, for any war, anywhere in the world. So to become from personal there can be universal.

The video is here, in the Royal Academy but, regrettably, the pile of bones on display is antiseptically clean and dry and no woman is sitting amid them desperately trying to wash the blood off herself. British Health and Safety regulations. Shame. Rotting bloody bones would have freaked everyone out.

‘Balkan Baroque’ by Marina Abramović,, a 4-day performance at XLVIII Venice Biennale (June 1997). Courtesy of the Marina Abramović Archives © Marina Abramović

The Hero

Three years later, Abramović’s father, Vojin Abramović, passed away. In memory of him she created ‘The Hero’. This consists of two elements: 1) a big projection of a black-and-white shot of her sitting – characteristically stationary – on a white horse, holding a white flag flapping in the wind to the accompaniment of an elegiac arrangement of the Yugoslavian national anthem. And 2) a display case in front of it showing a collection of memorabilia, army membership and medals and so on associated with her father.

Installation view of ‘The Hero’ by Marina Abramović (2001) showing the film and the display case devoted to her father. Courtesy of the Marina Abramović Archives and Luciana Brito Galeria © Marina Abramović. Photo © Royal Academy of Arts, London / David Parry

To my irritation I learn that this film was displayed on a hoarding in Piccadilly Circus as recently as last year but I managed to miss it:

Surprisingly, this isn’t an ironic reference to heroes and heroism. She genuinely means it. In fact the piece is accompanied by a Heroes’ Manifesto:

Heroes should not lie to themselves or others
Heroes should not make themselves into an idol
Heroes should look deep inside themselves for inspiration
The deeper they look inside themselves, the more universal they become
Heroes are universe
Heroes are universe
Heroes are universe
Heroes create their own symbols
Symbols are the Heroes’ language
The language must then be translated
Sometimes it is difficult to find the key
Heroes have to understand silence
Heroes have to create a space for silence to enter their soul
Silence is like an island in the middle of a turbulent ocean
Heroes must make time for the long periods of solitude
Solitude is extremely important
Away from home
Away from family
Away from friends
Heroes should have more and more of less and less
Heroes should have friends that lift their spirit
Heroes have to learn to forgive
Heroes have to learn to forgive
Heroes have to learn to forgive
Heroes have to be aware of their own mortality
For the Heroes, it is not only important how they live their life but also how they die
Heroes should die consciously, without anger, without fear
Heroes should die consciously, without anger, without fear
Heroes should die consciously, without anger, without fear

If we wanted, we could pause here and reflect on the disastrous impact of Serb nationalism on the Balkans in the 1990s, the atrocities committed by the Serbian Army and paramilitaries (documented in, for example, books by Anthony Loyd and Michael Ignatieff), the 1,425 day-long siege of Sarajevo by the Yugoslav/Serbian Army, and so on. It seems odd, and maybe distasteful, to create such an unironic image. The way it’s placed next to the Balkan Baroque mound of bones suggests the progression from heroic nationalist rhetoric to villages full of butchered peasants.

Doors

To quote the curators:

Every day we move without thinking through a series of thresholds, each ushering us between different experiences and states of being. Throughout cultures, portals have also been understood as symbolic sites of passage between good and evil, darkness and light, paradise and hell, life and death. Building on her earlier ‘Transitory Objects’, Abramović has created numerous works that give representation to transition and transformation. ‘The portal, for me, is really about a changed state of consciousness. It’s about how to access different temporal dimensions from the cosmic to the earthly.’

Hence this portal adorned with illuminated crystals. This was first displayed at the Modern Art Museum in Oxford, whose website provides further details:

A 297cm-tall portal adorned with 190 selenite crystals jutting out from each internal side. Selenite is a variety of gypsum with properties that conduct light and act as a natural optic fiber. A custom-made circuit of LED panels transmits light through the crystals, which emerges from the absorbant black-painted steel structure. This creates a portal with an intensely illuminated centre.

Portal (2022) by Marina Abramović. Photo by the author.

Four crosses

In the main atrium space of the galleries are arrange four enormous crosses made up of still photos of the artist pulling a wide variety of faces (2019). In their positioning, leaning out from the walls, they reference the language of Slavic icons and I couldn’t help thinking that, quite obviously, she’s replaced the figure of  the crucified Christ, Son of God, with herself, an act, you might think, of quite staggering narcissism and which reflects back through the entire show the thread of self-promoting exhibitionism which is part and parcel of performance art. Here I am. I am a work of art.

One of the Four Crosses by Marina Abramović (2019) Photo by the author

Alternatively, you could give it a feminist interpretation, saying the idealised figure of a dead man representing the dead hand of patriarchal religion has been replaced by the reality of a living woman in all her emotional messiness and reality.

Or split the difference with an ungendered, humanist interpretation, that an idealised religious figure designed to take our thoughts away from this world has been replaced by a real live human being in all her emotional complexity and predicaments.

The House with the Ocean View

The exhibition concludes with an enormous installation, the reperformance of ‘The House with the Ocean View’. This involves a mockup of two floors of an apartment with 3 rooms on the first floor and open to the viewing public like rooms in a doll’s house when the front has been opened.

First performed by Abramović in 2002, she lived continuously for 12 days in this ‘home’ of only three spaces in the Sean Kelly Gallery in New York. Abramović fasted by only drinking water, while converting the most basic functions of living into rituals. Audiences were invited to witness it on the condition that they didn’t speak. Held a year after 9/11, the work, according to the curators, ‘created a collective vigil’. Maybe. Or maybe it was an odd, strangely engaging, slightly bewildering, boring and yet hypnotic experience…

Interactive fun

The Chinese adventure was her first time not performing directly in front of an audience. After the relationship with Ulay broke down she had to start again. Part of this was thinking about pieces which still interact with the audience but without the presence of the artist. Hence her series of ‘Transitory Objects For Human Use’. These are objects designed to make the audience the central participant of the artwork without requiring the presence of the artist. According to the curators:

Rather than sculptures or items of furniture, the ‘Transitory Objects’ act as tools allowing viewers to access the energy and curative power of the crystals and metal that form them, based on traditional Chinese medicine’s correspondences between minerals and parts of the body.

In practice these are a series of green metallic head rests, seats and stands stuck onto the wall of the gallery and visitors are encouraged to interact with them – standing on podiums, resting your forehead against head rests, sitting astride the metal chairs. Maybe visitors felt ‘traditional Chinese medicine’s correspondences between minerals and parts of the body’ but these provided posing and photo opportunities for scores of gallery goers queuing up to strike a pose and tell their friends all about it on Snapchat, Instagram and TikTok.

Installation view of ‘White Dragon’ by Marina Abramović (1989) Courtesy of the Marina Abramović Archives © Marina Abramović. Photo © Royal Academy of Arts, London / David Parry

Masks

Along the wall of the room with the woman lying under a skeleton is a series of works which, when you look at them, seem to be prints of the iconic images of Abramović pulling faces. It’s only when you approach them sideways that you realise these are 3-D sculptures, with the faces cut into successive layers of alabaster.

These are ‘Five Stages of Maya Dance’ (2013/2016) in which she performed to camera the extremes of human expression and then the photographs were carved in negative relief on alabaster slabs:

turning them into performative sculptural objects that memorialise the artist’s performance yet transform into rough stone when approached.

An entertaining 3-D optical illusion. One more wonder, delight and entertainment in a brilliant exhibition.

‘Five Stages of Maya Dance’ by Marina Abramović. Left: one of the sculptures face-on. Right: the series of five sculptures from the side. Photo by the author.

Conclusion

I have commented on barely half the works on display. It’s a massive, mighty exhibition. Amazing. Mind blowing. An extraordinary body of work which helped define and shape performance art for its 50 year history, and continues to amaze and challenge and disturb and impress and inspire. Epic. Must see. Best exhibition in London.


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More Royal Academy reviews

The State of Africa: A History of the Continent since Independence by Martin Meredith (2005) – 2

This is a huge, 700-page, compendious history of all the African nations from independence (roughly the mid-1950s) to the time it was written (around 2010), so 55 years or so of modern African history.

Meredith chooses as epigraph to this big book the Latin tag from Pliny the Elder, ‘Ex Africa semper aliquid novi’ meaning ‘Out of Africa always something new’ – but a reading of the actual book confirms how utterly inappropriate this is. For if Meredith’s book demonstrates anything it is that, since independence, out of Africa have come the same five or six stereotypical narratives or events – civil war, one-party rule, dictatorship, economic collapse, famine, vast amounts of foreign aid – and the consistent failure to deliver the utopian dreams everyone hoped for in the heady first years of independence.

Two major contexts

Meredith only mentions them in passing but two broad historical contexts are worth bearing in mind.

  1. The independence movement in Algeria spiralled out of control into an appallingly brutal war which neither side was able to stop, and which threatened to tear the colonial power, France, apart. The war was at its worst in 1957 to 1961. The point is that Algeria stood as a terrible warning to the other colonial powers (Britain, Belgium, Portugal) of what might happen if they mismanaged things or delayed.
  2. The victory of Fidel Castro’s communists in Cuba in 1959 ushered in an era when the threat of the new African states falling to communism seemed very real and of global importance in the war between the two superpowers. Hence the head of the CIA warning President Eisenhower that Congo’s Patrice Lumumba might be ‘the African Castro’ and America’s feverish paranoia that if Congo fell to the communists it might influence the entire continent (p.104). Looking back, this level of anxiety seems exaggerated, even absurd. But the context is crucial in understanding the actions of all the colonial powers, but especially of America, which set about undermining left-wing governments and supporting right-wing, capitalism-loving dictators across the continent.

Both of these examples or precedents (Algeria, Cuba) lay behind the decisions of Britain and Belgian, in particular, not to linger or suppress independence movements. In other words, they added to the sense of urgency and haste which characterised the rush to make Africa independent, with such questionable results.

Part 1

1. The Gold Coast experiment (Ghana)

The tragic life of Kwame Nkrumah who went from political prisoner in the early 1950s, to lead his own political party, the Convention People’s Party, won the general election held under British auspices in 1954, before leading Ghana to independence in March 1957. Meredith vividly describes the week-long celebrations, attended by worthies from around the world including Zhou Enlai and Richard Nixon.

With a sickening inevitability Nkrumah found the new country difficult to rule, repressed political opposition and rigged elections. In 1964 he amended the constitution to make Ghana a one-party state, with himself as president for life. In 1966 Nkrumah was deposed in a coup led by the National Liberation Council.

2. Revolt on the Nile (Egypt)

Colonel Gamal Abdel Nasser led the 1952 revolution which overthrew the 32-year-old playboy King Farouk I. Much rhetoric about freedom and Arab socialism as Nasser tightened his grip on power, imprisoning rivals and getting elected president in 1956. The catastrophe of the Suez Crisis which put the nail in the coffin of the British Empire. From that moment Britain’s rush to decolonise picked up speed.

3. Land of the Setting Sun (Morocco, Tunisia, Algeria)

Apparently, the Arab word for north-west Africa, maghreb, means ‘land of the setting sun’ (as opposed to our word ‘Levant’ which means ‘rising’, to describe the old Ottoman Empire).

This chapter describes the descent of Algeria into a terrible insurgency which kicked off in the spring of 1954 with a wave of bomb attacks by the National Liberation Front (French: Front de libération nationale or FLN) with both sides slowly breaching their early declarations to target only combatants, so that by August 1954 the FLN was bombing civilian cafés and restaurants while the French security forces cracked down hard on the civilian Arab population, with large-scale arrests and torture.

An often overlooked aspect of the terrible war in Algeria (1956 to 1962) was that it made the French more amenable to granting its neighbours, Tunisia and Morocco, independence. Meredith describes the independence campaigning of Habib Bourguiba in Tunisia and Sultan Mohammed V in Morocco. The French arrested, imprisoned and exiled both these leaders, but eventually gave into widespread protests and both Morocco and Tunisia gained their independence in March 1956.

In 1957, amid an upsurge in terrorist bombings, the French governor of Algeria handed power over to the military, led by General Jacques Massu. The army locked down the capital city Algiers, ringing it with barbed wire, dividing it into sections which could be searched, cleared and then surveilled. Thousands of Algerians were arrested and tortured using electric shocks or waterboarding. It became known as The Battle of Algiers. In the country, peasants were rounded up into camps while native collaborator/spies (harkis) were deployed by the French.

By 1958 the FLN had been defeated, its leaders seeking refuge in Tunisia, whose new leader Bourguiba gave them sanctuary. However, the political system in France itself was in crisis. Violent disagreements about policy in Algeria led to the collapse of a series of short-lived governments. Worried that pacifist-defeatist politicians would gain power, in May 1958 the military took control of Algeria, allying with leading colons (white French colonists) to form a Committee of Public Safety. The French government declared a blockade, at which the Committee called for the return of the wartime hero, General de Gaulle.

4. L’Afrique Noire (Senegal, Ivory Coast)

L’Afrique Noire was the French term for the sub-Saharan part of its colonial empire, including Senegal and the Ivory Coast. Meredith describes the careers of Léopold Senghor of Senegal and Félix Houphouët-Boigny of Côte d’Ivoire.

5. Winds of Change (British colonies)

This chapter covers the independence movements in British colonies such as Nigeria.

Nigeria

Nigeria had only been created by the forcible union of north and south Nigeria in 1914, the north and south having themselves been slowly cobbled together from former, smaller protectorates since 1900. Nigeria could be divided into three great blocs: the north was Muslim and Hausa-speaking, with a conservative, feudal social system. It had few schools or colleges. The West, including the capital Lagos, was mostly Yoruba. Being on the coast, dotted with cities, it was more economically advanced and urban. In the East lived the Igpo who tended to be very well educated but had no social system of their own and so were scattered around Nigeria’s other territories. In addition there some 250 other ethnic groups, some of which protested and rebelled, including the Edo-speaking people of Benin province who longed to restore the kingdom of Benin. The British struggled with successive constitutions to try and create a balance between all these different constituencies. Nigeria was granted independence in 1960.

As a rule of thumb British colonies in West Africa were much more advanced than British colonies in East Africa (Kenya, Tanganyika) and Central Africa (north and south Rhodesia, Nyasaland). Politics in these latter countries was dominated by the fierce lobbying of the small white minorities, who dominated the local governors. Thus the settlers persuaded the Colonial Office to create a federation of Central Africa, consisting of Rhodesia and Nyasaland.

Kenya

Plans for a similar federation in East Africa were wrecked by the Mau Mau rebellion, which was an organised protest against the grotesque monopoly of the best agricultural land in Kenya by whites, and the land deprivation and lack of rights enforced on the million-strong Kikuyu population. Meredith gives a thorough account: the phrase mau mau actually meant nothing in Kikuyu, it was just a rallying call, and then the name given to the secret meetings where oaths of allegiance were sworn to the movement. Despite white paranoia, very few whites were actually killed during the so-called ’emergency’ (1952 to 1960), Meredith gives the number as 32, fewer than lost their lives in traffic accidents in Nairobi over the same period. He details British accusations that the Kikuyu leader Jomo Kenyatta, leader of the Kenya African Union (KAU) was involved, which led to a kangaroo court convicting and imprisoning him; and the brutal measures the British took against the insurgency, including setting up concentration camps.

The first Blacks were elected to Kenya’s legislative council in 1957. In October the Highlands area was formally opened to all races. The British thought they would continue to rule Kenya for at least another decade. In the event, independence was granted on December 12, 1963.

Nyasaland

Meredith gives the story of Nyasaland, to which the elderly Dr Hastings Banda returned as leader of the independence movement in 1959, determined to scupper Britain’s plans to make it part of a federation with Rhodesia. The colonial governor imported troops who tried to quell protests which turned into riots, troops shot, protesters killed, it becomes a nationwide movement etc.

Meanwhile, in neighbouring north Rhodesia, in the run-up to contested 1959 elections the authorities banned a leading nationalist party and imprisoned its leader, Kenneth Kaunda. Britain was losing its reputation for progressive colonialism in a welter of protests and arrests across all its African colonies.

Abruptly, Harold Macmillan’s conservative government gave in. Late in 1959 the Foreign Secretary Iain Macleod said further repression would lead to bloodshed. In February 1960 Macmillan gave his famous Winds of Change speech. Behind it was fear that further suppressing calls for independence would drive African nations into the hands of the communists. The British knew most of their colonies weren’t ready for independence – Meredith lists the pitiful number of native lawyers or administrators in the central and east African countries – but hurrying was a less bad option than delay, with the increasing repression, bloodshed and reputational damage that would inevitably entail.

6. Heart of Darkness (Congo)

The gruesome history of the Belgian Congo. It beggars belief that there are still statues of King Leopold II, one of the most blood-thirsty rulers in history, in Belgium. Congo was notable for four or five reasons:

  1. It was and is the largest country in Africa.
  2. The grotesque rule of Leopold II was probably the most evil, mass murdering of all the colonial regimes. As many as 10 million Congolese died during his rule, 1885 to 1908.
  3. Once the colony had been handed over to the Belgian government to run, it developed through the 20th century as one of the richest sources of minerals (particularly copper and diamonds) in the world.
  4. The rush to independence was hastiest and most foolhardy here than almost anywhere else. At independence Congo had 3 Black civil servants, 30 university graduates, no doctors, secondary school teachers or army officers. The firebrand new Prime Minister, Patrice Lumumba, had just four years of secondary school education plus one year in a technical college for postal clerks (p.95).
  5. With the result that within days of winning independence on 1 June 1960, Congo collapsed into chaos.

The army mutinied, the entire province of Katanga tried to secede, riots in the main cities included attacks on whites so that the entire Belgian community i.e. everyone who knew how to run the infrastructure of the country, fled in panic. Profile of the hectic unpredictable character of Lumumba, and the long dismal series of events which led, first to his arrest and, eventually, to his murder by Belgian and Congolese soldiers on the orders of his one-time lieutenant, Joseph-Désiré Mobutu, with the collusion of the UN and US, on 17 January 1961.

The stream of crises continued until Mobutu took power in a definitive military coup in 1965, and was to rule a one-party state for 32 years, until 1997.

7. The White South

South Africa

Meredith points out that the southern nations of Africa – north and south Rhodesia, south-west Africa and South Africa – looked at the other African countries gaining independence and were horrified by what they saw, especially the complete chaos punctuated by bloodbaths and military coups in Congo.

The fiercest response was in South Africa which in 1948 had established the system of apartheid and spent the next decades hardening the division between whites and blacks. Meredith chronicles the early history of the African National Congress (ANC), revolving round the figure of Nelson Mandela and the failure of peaceful efforts to counter apartheid. Peaceful protests such as general strikes became harder to justify after the SA authorities carried out the Sharpeville massacre on 21 March 1960, killing 69 protesters and injuring 180.

The more violent atmosphere heralded by the massacre led the ANC to establish the armed wing of the struggle, uMkhonto we Sizwe, in 1961. These guys carried out a not very effective sabotage campaign against a variety of infrastructure targets. In 1962 Mandela was arrested and imprisoned, despite a lack of evidence against him. But then in 1964 the authorities discovered the ANC and uMkhonto we Sizwe hideout at Rivonia, which was stuffed with incriminating documents. On the basis of these, Mandela was retried and, along with the key leadership of the ANC and uMkhonto, sentenced to life imprisonment on 12 June 1964.

Rhodesia

Meredith gives the history of Rhodesia, taking in the creation of the two independence parties, ZANU and ZAPU, up until November 1965 when Ian Smith‘s Rhodesian Front government, rebelling against pressure to grant Black independence, issued a Unilateral Declaration of Independence (UDI) from the mother government in the UK.

Angola

Angola was a backwater of the mouldering Portuguese empire, which was ruled by the dictator António de Oliveira Salazar. In 1956 the People’s Movement for the Liberation of Angola (Movimento Popular de Libertação de Angola or MPLA) was founded but police swoops in 1959 and 1960 arrested most of its leaders. In 1961 the colony was horrified by an outbreak of extreme violence in the north, where machete-wielding gangs massacred white bosses and the Blacks who worked for them. This was partly the work of a different group, the União dos Povos de Angola (UPA), run by Holden Roberto.

Mozambique

On the other side of the continent, in the other Portuguese colony, Mozambique, 1962 saw the creation of the Frente de Libertação de Moçambique (FRELIMO) which commenced a campaign of small-scale guerrilla attacks against border posts etc.

Dates of independence

1956 – Sudan, Morocco, Tunisia

1957 – Ghana

1958 – Guinea

1960 – Cameroon, Senegal, Togo, Mali, Madagascar, Democratic Republic of Congo (Belgian), Somalia, Benin, Niger, Burkina Faso, Ivory Coast, Chad, Central African Republic, Republic of Congo (France), Gabon, Nigeria, Mauritania,

1961 – Sierra Leone, Tanganyika

1962 – Burundi, Rwanda, Algeria, Uganda

1963 – Kenya, Zanzibar

1964 – Nyasaland (Malawi), North Rhodesia (Zambia)

1965 – Gambia

1966 – Botswana, Lesotho

1975 – Angola, Mozambique

1980 – Zimbabwe

1990 – Namibia

1993 – Eritrea

2011 – South Sudan

Part 2

8. The Birth of Nations

A chapter summarising the dire state of the geography and economies of most African nations at independence, and the consequent economic challenges they faced. It’s here that Meredith gives the shocking figures about the lack of African graduates or professionals right across the continent.

9. The First Dance of Freedom

Abandoning democracy

Meredith laments that almost all the new national leaders consciously disavowed democracy and instituted one-party rule. It’s interesting to read their justifications. It was claimed that democracy derived from advanced societies with well-defined classes and class interests which could be represented by political parties. By contrast, leaders like Nkomo and Kenyatta argued that while parties may have been necessary to organise and motivate different groupings in the fight against colonialism, now the colonialists had left and the nations were free, democracy represented a threat to African countries because the likelihood was that parties would come to be based on tribal or regional allegiances and so work to split and divide the nation. There’s actually a lot to this argument, as that’s what many African parties came to be, fronts for specific tribes or regional interests.

One-party rule

Regardless of the justifications, almost all the first leaders of the newly independent African nations went on to abolish democracy, establish one-party rule, declare themselves presidents for life, lock up any opposition figures (p.176), create cults of their greatness (p.180), set up a secret police which was told it could go to any lengths to save the state from communist or capitalist or imperialist subversion etc etc. These cults often took the name of the Great Leader – Nasserism, Nkrumahism and so on (p.163).

Corruption

And misuse money, in two specific ways: 1) instituting state-sponsored corruption at every level of society, while 2) spending fortunes on grandiose building projects, palaces, mansions, waterfront hotels. Presidents, ministers and powerful figures swiftly awarded themselves ‘the platinum lifestyle’ (p.171).While Nkrumah was crapping on about ‘African socialism’ his ministers made fortunes. Ghanaian minister Krobo Edusei caused a scandal when his wife ordered a £3,000 gold-plated bed from a London store. In later life he admitted to owning 14 homes, a luxury beach house, a London flat, expensive cars and six different bank accounts. African socialism.

Army coups

In 1958 in Sudan the army took control in Sudan from squabbling politicians. In 1963 Togo’s president was shot dead in a coup. In 1964 African mobs overthrew rule by the Arab elite and the sultan was forced to flee, the French army had to put down military coups in Gabon and Cameroon, while the British army suppressed army mutinies in Tanganyika, Uganda and Kenya. From 1965 coups became more frequent: in 1965 Algeria’s first leader was deposed; Mobutu overthrew president Joseph Kasa-Vubu in Congo; there was a military coup in Benin; Colonel Jean-Bedel Bokassa seized power in the Central African Republic, and so on.

10. Feet of Clay (Ghana)

An extended description of Kwame Nkrumah’s slow descent into authoritarian rule, isolation, paranoia, arbitrary arrest of opponents, accompanied by rising corruption. Meredith makes the pretty well-known point that patronage and corruption weren’t parasites on the system which could be eliminated; they were the system.

A detailed account of how Nkrumah destroyed the Ghana economy through mismanagement, ignorance, terrible accounting, disastrous decisions and so on. Incompetence on a national scale, plus classic withdrawal into dictator paranoia. And, also classically, when the army intervened it wasn’t for the good of the country – they’d happily watched it go to wrack and ruin – it was because Nkrumah started tampering with it, wishing to bring it directly under his control as he had done every other aspect of Ghanaian life. So it was that while Nkrumah was visiting China in 1966, the army deposed him. Joyous crowds celebrated in the streets, his statues was pulled down and portraits defaced. The kind of thing we were to see scores and scores of times in developing countries around the world over the past 60 years.

11. A House Divided (Nigeria)

Nigeria. Meredith explains the entirely tribal basis and vicious infighting of Nigerian politics which led up to the January 1966 military coup, in which the Supreme Council of the Revolution not just sacked but executed civilian politicians. And the complicated rivalries between North, West and East Nigeria which led leaders in the East to declare independence as Biafra, and the 3-year-long war which followed, in which up to 2 million Nigerians died.

12. Death of an Emperor (Ethiopia)

An entertaining account of the elaborate ritual which surrounded the Emperor Haile Selassie and the surprisingly aggressive imperial campaigns which had doubled his country’s size, starting back in the time of his ancestor Menelek (ruled 1889 to 1913), including the annexation of Eritrea and contested parts of Somaliland.

In the early 1970s mismanagement, especially of a famine in Wollo, protests by various sectors, and Selassie’s hastening senility, emboldened a group of army officers, who called themselves the Derg, to stage a coup in stages throughout 1974, which ended with the complete overthrow of Selassie on 12 September. In November the junta executed 60 former officials of the imperial government plus dissident elements within the Derg itself, by firing squad, and Ethiopia was declared a republic to be governed on Marxist-Leninist lines.

  • The Emperor: Downfall of an Autocrat by Ryszard Kapuściński (1978)

13. The Coming of Tyrants

After the first few heroic years of optimism, the military coups began. But worse was the advent of the monsters: Abaid Karume in Zanzibar (1964 to 1972); Jean-Bedel Bokassa in the Central African Republic (1966 to 1979); Idi Amin in Uganda (1971 to 1979); Francisco Nguema in Equatorial Guinea (1968 to 1979); Mengistu Haile Mariam in Ethiopia (1977 to 1991).

14. In Search of Ujamaa (Tanzania)

Julius Nyerere in Tanzania. He was a committed socialist though without a socialist party or advisers. In the mid-1960s he nationalised everything in Tanzania and proclaimed this native form of socialism ujaama, which is KiSwahili for ‘familyhood’ (p.253). In 1974 this was turned into the forced movement of some 11 million peasant farmers into collective farms, which had the same kind of catastrophic effect as in the Stalin-era Ukraine or Mao’s China i.e. the collapse of agricultural productivity and widespread hunger. Nyerere had to go begging to the World Bank and IMF and food agencies for emergency food supplies. As its economy went steadily downhill, Nyerere’s one-party state did improve literacy, schools, drinking water etc, but almost entirely funded by aid from the West.

15. The Passing of the Old Guard

Ghana

Nkrumah’s sad exile in a slowly deteriorating villa in Guinea planning a triumphant return to Ghana which never took place.

Egypt

Nasser’s great dreams of leading an Arab renaissance came to nothing, attempts to unify with Syria were a fiasco, his intervention in Yemen backfired, leading up to the humiliation of the 1967 Arab-Israeli War in which the Israelis seized the Sinai with its oil wells from Egypt. Yet he remained popular and Egypt was plunged into mourning when he died in 1970 of a heart attack, aged just 52.

Kenya

Jomo Kenyatta was the opposite of Nyerere, a keen advocate of capitalism, and provided the stable political and legal framework within which private enterprise could flourish. Much of the land belonging to the white settlers, the issue behind the Mau Mau movement, was sold to Black Kenyans. During the 1970s he faced political challenges and hardened his one-party rule. His fiercest critic was found murdered etc. Late in life Kenyatta slowly lost interest in ruling, preferring to concoct complex riddles. He died peacefully in 1978.

Senegal

President Léopold Senghor remained strongly Francophile, committed to maintaining links with France, accepting French capital in business and retaining French troops to safeguard his regime. In France he was a noted poet. In 1976 he bucked the one-party trend of his neighbours by allowing the establishment of two new political parties. In 1980 he handed over power to his protégé, becoming the first African ruler to relinquish power voluntarily.

Guinea

The first president of Guinea, Ahmed Sékou Touré, created a paranoid atmosphere of permanent plots which he claimed to uncover and used to arrest, torture and publicly execute opponents, real or imagined. A fifth of the population fled abroad. Touré nationalised industries, persecuted independent businesses, created parastatal agencies, so that the economy tanked and was, eventually, only surviving on western aid. After 20 years of enforced socialism, he began to relent and allow some elements of private enterprise.

16. The Slippery Slope

An overview of the calamitous economic issues which hit Africa in the 1970s and 80s, being:

  • famine and drought
  • the two oil shocks of the 1970s
  • the collapse of commodity prices on which most African states depended for foreign revenue
  • the disastrous loss of agricultural land, soil degradation and desertification

On top of all this, an explosive growth in population.

17. The Great Plunderer (Zaire)

This refers to Joseph-Désiré Mobutu, who ruled Congo from the date of his second military coup in 1965 to his overthrow by the forces invading from Rwanda in 1997. During those 32 long years he changed the country’s name to Zaire, Africanised all placenames (Leopoldville > Kinshasa, Elizabethville > Lubumbashi) and even his own name, changing it to Mobutu Sese Seko Kuku Ngbendu Wa Za Banga.

Mobutu nationalised agriculture, seized all businesses from foreign owners, causing a collapse in the country’s economy, and looted it on a grand scale, siphoning vast amounts into private bank accounts. Probably the greatest African kleptocrat, he was said to have stolen up to $15 billion. The Americans supported him on the simple Cold War basis that he was fiercely anti-communist and so maintained the centre of Africa against any Soviet influence. Mobutu was an honoured guest of US presidents from John F Kennedy to George Bush. Meredith doesn’t need to comment.

18. White Dominoes (Mozambique, Angola)

Portugal was the last European country to decolonise. Independence movements in its two main African colonies, Angola and Mozambique, commenced military activities in 1961, leading to what became known as the Portuguese Colonial War (1961 to 1974).

In 1968 Portugal’s long-serving dictator, António de Oliveira Salazar, was replaced by another authoritarian ruler, Marcello Caetano. He inherited military operations in Portugal’s main two African colonies, Angola and Mozambique. However, junior army officers had become unhappy with the way the army seemed like it was committed forever to these ruinous, unwinnable wars and so, on 25 April 1974, carried out the Carnation Revolution, overthrowing Caetano. Portugal’s new military rulers set out to divest themselves of her colonies immediately. Small Guinea-Bissau was easily granted independence in 1973.

Mozambique

In Mozambique the main liberation force had been the Front for the Liberation of Mozambique (FRELIMO) led by the zealous Marxist, Samora Machel. Terrified by the fire-breathing rhetoric of Marxist Machal, in the year between the declaration of independence in 1974 and its legal implementation on 25 June 1975, most of the 250,000 Portuguese in Mozambique fled the country, including all the civil servants, administrators, managers of the infrastructure and all businesses.

Frelimo passed a law ordering the remaining Portuguese to leave the country in 24 hours with only 20 kilograms (44 pounds) of luggage. Unable to salvage any of their assets, most of them returned to Portugal penniless, leaving a country empty of experienced administrators, engineers and so on.

Frelimo commenced an aggressive implementation of Marxism-Leninism which proved a disaster: central planning was as badly managed here as in most other African countries, leading to economic collapse, inflation, shortages of everything but especially food. Industrial output and agriculture collapsed leading to widespread famine. Frelimo eventually generated so much opposition that the anti-communist forces united to form the Mozambican National Resistance (RENAMO) rebel militias.

Renamo found backing from South Africa and the US. Civil war between Frelimo and Renamo was to consume 15 ruinous years from 1977 to 1992. An estimated one million Mozambicans perished during the civil war, with somewhere between 300,000 and 600,000 dying of famine. 1.7 million Mozambicans took refuge in neighbouring states, and several million more were internally displaced.

Angola

Something similar happened in Angola. As the deadline for independence approached, three rebel or independence groups/parties/armies vied for power, being the FNLA, MPLA and UNITA. As violence broke out most of the white Portuguese fled and the country collapsed into a civil war between what emerged as the two main forces, the communist People’s Movement for the Liberation of Angola (MPLA) and the anti-communist National Union for the Total Independence of Angola (UNITA). The civil war lasted from 1975, with interludes, until 2002. See:

Part 3

19. Red Tears (Ethiopia)

How in 1974 the Provisional Military Administrative Committee (PMAC) of army officers, also known as the Derg, overthrew the regime of emperor Haile Selassie. In 1977 Colonel Mengistu Haile Mariam seized full control and initiated a wave of repression which became known as the Red Terror. During this two-year campaign as many as 50,000 Ethiopians were arrested, tortured and executed. The Derg dumped the corpses in the street and gained notoriety by demanding that families of the executed pay for the bullets. Marxist-Leninist housekeeping.

Meredith explains how Mengistu’s Marxist-Leninist policies, along with his brutal campaigns against Eritrean and Tigrayan separatists in the north, helped bring about the great Ethiopia famine of 1984 which led to Live Aid. At the time more than half of Ethiopia’s annual budget was devoted to maintaining an army of 300,000 (armed and supplied by Soviet Russia) in order to carry out operations against the Tigrayan People’s Liberation Front (p.334).

Mengistu was a doctrinaire Marxist who believed in collectivising agriculture and enforcing super low prices in order to provide subsidised food for his key constituencies in the cities. The detailed chronicle of his deliberate ignoring of the famine, attempts to deny it, to prevent journalists or aid agencies entering the famine-stricken areas, and then the politically motivated strategy of moving hundreds of thousands of starving people against their will from the north (close to where Eritrean separatists operated) to the more secure south where they had no homes or livelihoods, makes for terrible reading. What a complete bastard.

The title of this chapter comes from a memoir of his time in Mengistu’s government written by a defector from the Derg, Dawit Wolde Giorgis, ‘Red Tears: War, Famine and Revolution in Ethiopia’. In the words of reviewer Mohammed Hassen, this exposes ‘the callous brutality of the Ethiopian government towards its own people’, and the leaders of the Derg as ‘uninformed, anti-people, anti-democratic criminal thugs’ (Online review).

20. Fault Lines (Chad, Sudan)

Chad

Across the north of Africa is a line between the Arab Muslim north and the start of the Black African and often Christian south. Meredith gives a long, detailed and deeply depressing account of the north-south conflict in Chad, in which both sides massacred each other and Colonel Gaddafi, in power in Libya from 1969 onwards, took advantage by trying to seize northern Chad and, at his most ambitious, declared the unification of Chad with Libya – under his supreme control, of course.

Sudan

To the East, the equally long-running and demoralising war between Muslim north and Christian south Sudan. A key aspect of the backstory to both conflicts is that the northern Muslims had, for centuries, captured southern blacks as slaves as part of the widespread Arab slave trade. In fact Meredith records Arab militias capturing and enslaving Black southerners in the 1980s, all accompanied by vitriolic racism about the Blacks being sub-humans etc. About the Atlantic slave trade I hear on a daily basis and in virtually every art exhibition I go to; about the Arab slave trade, never.

21. The Scourge of AIDS

The interesting point is the number of African governments which refused to acknowledge AIDS or dismissed it as a racist Western conspiracy, with the result that many African countries didn’t commence AIDS-awareness campaigns till the 1990s by which time the disease had taken hold in their populations. Two notable exceptions were Senegal under Abdou Diouf, and Uganda under the leadership of Yoweri Museveni. Respect.

22. The Lost Decade

A detailed look at the economic collapse of almost all African countries by the 1980s so that they became increasingly dependent on foreign aid, on loans which needed to be continually rescheduled, and the accompanying demands from the IMF and World Bank for ‘structural reforms’. Through mismanagement, drought, civil war, collapse of commodity prices, most African countries became dependent on aid from the West.

What comes over, and is expressed in terms by African commentators themselves, is what condemned Africa to becoming the most backward and poverty-stricken of the world’s continents was the appalling quality of African leaders – tyrants, dictators but, above all, thieves, on an epic, mind-boggling scale.

23. The Struggle for Democracy

The long hold on power of Africa’s strong men, the generation who took power at independence and often clung on to it for 25 years or more, for example:

  • Gnassingbé Eyadéma of Togo (president for 38 years)
  • Omar Bongo in Gabon (41 years)
  • Félix Houphouët-Boigny of Côte d’Ivoire (president for 33 years)
  • Mobutu in Zaire (32 years)
  • Hastings Banda in Malawi (30 years)
  • Kenneth Kaunda in Zambia (27 years)
  • Moussa Traore in Mali (22 years)

Of the 50 African states in 1990, almost all were one-party states or military dictatorships.

The fall of the Berlin wall and collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991 ushered in a new era. One party regimes and Marxist regimes appeared old-fashioned overnight. But the strong men clung on in the new landscape, for example Mobutu who struggled on for another 7 years.

24. A Time of Triumph (South Africa)

A long and harrowing description of ‘grand’ apartheid in all its totalitarian, racist horror. Meredith gives an interesting explanation of the changes in international affairs and geopolitics during the late 1980s which led the apartheid leadership to consider sweeping reform. He ends with a moving account of negotiations with Nelson Mandela, climaxing with his release and then the first free, multi-racial elections in South Africa’s history.

Apart from the long, complex history of violence, guerrilla warfare, civil war between the ANC and Inkatha, South Africa’s interference in all the nations bordering it and so on – on a human level I learned that a) Mandela and the last apartheid leader, F.W. de Klerk, really didn’t get on, and that b) when his marriage to wife Winnie Mandela ended, she very publicly took a much younger lover and embarrassed him in public (‘Mandela’s late years of freedom were constantly blighted by her wayward example’), leaving him an often lonely figure (p.438).

Part 4

25. In The Name of the Prophet (Egypt, Algeria, Sudan)

Sayyid Qutb

The imperialists had oppressed them. Secular nationalism was a failure. The first generation of post-independence rulers turned out to be corrupt tyrants. Socialism and Marxism turned out to be dead ends. Following the Iranian revolution of 1979 there began a revival of political Islam which seemed to many ordinary people a last resort, given that all western political systems and theories had failed. Political Islam encouraged the idea that western concepts like democracy or capitalism were infidel and inappropriate to Muslim lands, and that only return to the purity of the Prophet’s laws and rules would restore society.

The principal architect of jihad ideology [was] Sayyid Qutb…whose writings influenced generations of radical Islamists. (p.444)

Qutb, an Egyptian who supported the Muslim Brotherhood, was imprisoned by Colonel Nasser, then executed in 1965 – but not before he’d developed, written and distributed a starkly simplistic view of Islam. According to Qutb the entire Muslim world can be divided into the Party of God and the Party of Satan with no middle ground. Repressive regimes cannot be changed from within and so must be overthrown by jihad i.e. armed struggle.

Any land that hampered the practice of Islam or failed to apply sharia law was ipso facto part of Dar el-Harb – the Abode of War. ‘It should be combated even if one’s own kith and kin, national group, capital and commerce are to be found there.’ (p.444)

This is really, really important. Qutb’s writings are crucial to understanding the modern age. His simplistic binary worldview, and his insistence that democracy, nationalism, human rights and all those other ideas, are infidel western abominations – all this explains the wars which have steadily engulfed the Arab/Muslim world in the last 30 years.

Qutb’s writings explain why generations of jihadis have been convinced that the only honourable and devout course of action is to fight your enemies to extermination. His writings have hugely contributed to instability right across the Arab world and are the ideological background to jihadis fighting in Afghanistan, Iraq, Syria, Yemen, Libya and Sudan. Meredith mentions a couple of other Muslim thinkers:

  • cleric Omar Abdel Rahman who taught that jihad was the only way to vanquish the enemies of Islam (p.445)
  • Muhammed al-Farag, who taught that jihad is the sixth pillar of Islam and that armed struggle is imperative for all true Muslims in order to cure a decadent society: ‘the first battlefield for jihad is the extermination of these infidel leaders and to replace them with a complete Islamic Order’ (p.446)

Only jihad can bring about the perfect Islamic society. Jihad must be waged until the perfect Islamic society is achieved. But there are many forces resisting this, the obvious outside forces of America and the West, but also the populations of many of these countries. So the kind of perfect Islamic state the jihadis dream of will probably never be achieved. Therefore the Muslim world, certainly in the Middle East and North Africa, is condemned to permanent war or insurgency for the foreseeable future.

Algeria

The Front de libération nationale (FLN) had been the main force behind the long bloody war for the independence of Algeria from France. After independence was finally granted in 1962, the FLN became the party of government, instituting socialist policies and a one-party regime. Meredith lists the reasons why the FLN slowly became unpopular. Two stick out. One was that they downplayed agriculture in a bid to industrialise, keeping food prices artificially low in order to placate their constituencies in the towns and cities. The result was that life as a farmer got harder and harder, with many rural youths deciding to quit the poverty of the countryside and try their luck in the city. This is interesting because it’s an abiding theme of so many of these countries. If I could travel back in time to the early 60s and was an adviser to newly independent African nations, I’d say: ‘Cherish your farmers’. In Algeria, as everywhere else, neglecting and even undermining agriculture led to the country becoming ever more reliant on food imports.

The second is the explosion in population. I am a Darwinian materialist, a believer in the blunt facts of the environment and biology a long way before culture and politics. Thus the simple relevant fact is that the population of Algeria exploded from 10 million in 1962 to 26 million in 1992. No rate of economic growth, anywhere, could keep up with this explosion in mouths to feed and, more to the point, young men to employ.

Groups of young men hanging round on street corners become a prey to warlords and the siren call of violent revolution. This is true all round the developing world. The West supplied the medicines to developing countries which hugely improved infant mortality and recovery from illness, but without doing anything to transform a) cultural attitudes to women and childbirth or b) expand the economies. Result: lots of aimless young men looking for a cause.

Enter radical Islam which promises a better world, which gives young men a purpose, a goal, a sense of identity, and money and respect. What’s not to like, what’s not to sign up and commit your life to?

As radical Islamic parties began to appear in Algeria the military command which called the shots in the FLN tried to cancel them. After complicated manoeuvres the FLN agreed to hold free elections and Islamic parties stood in them. But when the Islamists looked like winning, the FLN abruptly cancelled the results and took back military control. The rest of the story could have been written by an AI bot. The Islamists hit back with a terror campaign, the army cracked down, arbitrarily arresting thousands, imprisonment without trial, torture etc, the Islamists ramped up their campaign, and so on.

Again, with utter inevitability, the insurgency spawned an extremist wing, the Groupe Islamique Armé (GIA). With utter predictability they started off saying they’d stick to military targets but soon found these too well protected and their attacks having less and less affect so they widened their targets. Journalists were singled out, but more and more members of the general public were also murdered. Abdelkader Hattab wrote a pamphlet titled: ‘Throat-slitting and murder until the power is God’s’ (p.457).

As in Iraq, in order to build the perfect Islamic state, it turned out to be necessary to kill lots of Muslims, first hundreds, then thousands, then tens of thousands, and eventually hundreds of thousands.

What became known as the Algerian Civil War lasted from 1991 to 2002 and led to around 150,000 deaths. Of course the economy was wrecked. Of course a lot of the best and brightest middle classes simply fled abroad.

Egypt

I visited Egypt in 1981 and then in 1995, just before Islamist terror groups began attacking tourists. Groups like Jamaat al-Jihad and Gamma Islamiyya increasingly targeted government officials, intellectuals, journalists and foreign tourists. They attacked and murdered Coptic Christians, burned Christian shops and churches, and bookshops and theatres and video stores. Farag Foda, one of Egypt’s best known writers, was shot dead. The Nobel laureate Naguib Mahfouz was knifed. ‘Throat-slitting and murder until the power is God’s’, in practice.

Then they started attacking tourists: in 1996 17 Greek pilgrims were murdered outside their hotel. In 1997 58 foreign tourists were murdered in the Valley of the Kings. Meredith tells us that a Japanese man was eviscerated and inside his stomach cavity was stuffed a note reading: ‘No to tourists in Egypt’ (p.461). Fine by me. I’m never going back to a Muslim country.

Egypt’s president, Hosni Mubarak, had come to power after the assassination of his predecessor Anwar Sadat by army Islamists in 1981. Now Mubarak set about crushing the Islamic groups ruthlessly, telling his own people and the international community that he wouldn’t let Egypt become the next Algeria. This chapter takes the story up to 2000, when Mubarak was arresting members of the Muslim Brotherhood and other Islamic organisations to prevent them standing in that year’s elections.

26. Black Hawk Down (Somalia)

The first fact about Somalia is that, at independence, about 40% of the people who thought of themselves as Somalis lived outside the borders of the country, in Ethiopia or Kenya. So from the day of independence the government neglected agriculture and the economy and focused on military action to try and extend its borders to include the full population.

Second fact is the Somalis have a strong and complex clan system, clans within clans, which extends in a hierarchy from the five main super-clans down through ever-diminishing sub-clans. So:

  1. Never-ending warfare helped impoverish the country, especially after the Soviet Union dropped its support for Somalia in favour of Mengistu’s Marxist revolution in neighbouring Ethiopia.
  2. As central government collapsed under the pressure of military defeats, poverty, famine and so on, the country disintegrated into a warzone of permanently fighting, feuding clans, at multiple levels, with warlords ruling their territories through terror.

27. The Graves Are Not Yet Full (Rwanda)

The Rwandan genocide. I’ve summarised the dreadful events elsewhere. I’ll just pick up on two related themes, mentioned re. Algeria. 1) the population of Rwanda ballooned from 2 million in 1940 to 7 million in 1990, which led to 2) lots of unemployed youths hanging around, waiting for a cause and meaning (and cash):

Youths with no prospect of work were easily recruited [into the interahamwe) with promises of land, jobs and other rewards… (p.496)

The French government of François Mitterrand comes over as the genocide-supporting scumbags indicated by all the other accounts. For example, it was the French government which refused the Belgian request to increase the number of the latter’s peacekeepers, so that Belgians ended up being forced to watch Tutsis being hacked to death in front of them but were unable to intervene. Because of France (p.510).

Mitterrand was determined to prevent a Rwandan Patriotic Front (RPF) victory in Rwanda even if it meant continuing to collaborate with genocidal killers. (p.519)

France made five arms shipments to the Hutu government while it was carrying out the genocide. Bastard Mitterrand sent a French force into Rwanda to protect the Hutu Power génocidaires (the equivalent of protecting the SS). Meredith tells of French soldiers slowly realising that the Hutus they had been sent to protect were in fact genocidal killers and realising that their government (Mitterrand) had lied to them. The piles and piles of Tutsi corpses were a clue. But the French government refused to allow their troops on the ground to track down and bring to justice the génocidaires hiding among the mass Hutu refugees who fled into Congo, once the Tutsi-led RPF reactivated the civil war and invaded in order to end the killing.

To the end, the French protected the organisers of the genocide. (p.522)

We’re never meant to forget the Holocaust. Well, in the same spirit, surely we should never forgive the arms and aid and support and protection the French government extended to the perpetrators of the second most horrific genocide of the twentieth century.

Mind you, Meredith goes on to paint the UN as far worse, biased towards Hutu president, Juvénal Habyarimana, ignoring reports from the Canadian commander of the UN force on the ground, UNAMIR, General Roméo Dallaire. And then the Belgian government, which withdrew their contingent altogether, abandoning thousands of Tutsis who had taken shelter in their compounds and who were hacked to pieces within hours of their abandonment (p.512). And the Americans behaved disgracefully, Bill Clinton doing everything he could to avoid using the G word (genocide) and refusing to commit troops. Everyone in a position of power in the West let the genocide happen.

More Tutsis were killed in churches than any other type of building, although a lot were killed in maternity wards where a lot had their bellies ripped open and their babies hacked to pieces before they themselves were hacked to death.

Some people still believe in the essential goodness of the human race. Such innocence is touching, charming, but dangerous.

28. Where Vultures Fly (the two Congo wars)

Who supported Mobutu after he had reduced Zaire to starving ruins? France. Why? Because he spoke French. Because he represented la francophonie. Because he represented a bulwark against the rise of the beastly English-speaking leaders such as Museveni of Uganda. France supported mass murderers and world-beating kleptocrats because their crimes were less important than the preservation of ‘French culture’ (p.525). Look at their wise and good achievements in the realm of international affairs: Vietnam. Algeria. Models of wisdom and statecraft. And Vichy, when millions of French people wholeheartedly co-operated with German Nazis whose values they enthusiastically endorsed.

This is not an exaggeration. When considering international affairs, it’s important to bear in mind what despicable depths the French establishment’s paranoid fear of the English-speaking world drives them. James Barr describes the despicable behaviour of the French in Lebanon and Syria during the Second World War:

This chapter describes how the million and a half Hutu refugees from Rwanda were crammed into refugee camps, mostly in Congo, where the Hutu Power génocidaires rebuilt their power, controlled the distribution of aid, murdered dissenting voices, kept the refugees in line with terror, while they sold some of the aid the West gave them in order to buy arms to re-invade Rwanda and resume attacking Tutsi communities.

Meredith explains how the leader of the RPF, Paul Kagame, conspired with President of Uganda Mouseveni to invade eastern Zaire, to crush the Hutu Power leaders, to force the Hutu refugees to return to their country. How they found a useful idiot from within Zaire to front the army they were creating, namely fat, stupid guerrilla turned nightclub-owner Laurent-Désiré Kabila.

The combined RPF and Ugandan army force which Kabila fronted not only liberated the Hutu refugee camps, but marched on Congo’s capital, Kinshasa, triggering the panic-stricken flight of the sick old dictator, Mobutu in 1997. In short order and to his own surprise, Kabila found himself in power and set about surrounding himself with cronies in the traditional style. Unwisely, he tried to bolster his support among the Congolese by turning on his Ugandan and Rwandan-Tutsi backers, whose forces were much resented in Kinshasa and beyond.

This policy badly backfired because when Kagame and Museveni found their puppet acting up against them, in 1998 they instituted a second invasion from the east, this time not marching but flying their forces direct to Kinshasa to overthrow Kabile. At this point, however, various outside countries began to get involved, several big ones supporting Kabile who had signed lucrative deals with them allowing them to plunder Congo’s natural resources.

This was the complex situation which led to what became known as the Great War of Africa. Slowly the country splintered into regions held by rival warlords or outside armies. A peace treaty was signed in 2002 which required armies from Rwanda, Burundi, Uganda, Angola and Zimbabwe to withdraw. In four years of chaotic conflict (1998 to 2002) some 3 million Africans had died, mostly unarmed Congolese civilians. But even after the peace treaty, fighting continued in east Congo, and continues at a low level to this day.

29. Blood Diamonds (Liberia, Sierra Leone)

Liberia

Meredith recaps the extraordinary early history of Liberia, a colony on the west coast of Africa funded in 1822 by guilt-stricken liberal Americans who wanted to return some of their slaves to the motherland. Instead, the few thousand returned Blacks ended up creating their own version of slavery, subjugating the poor locals, exploiting their labour, building homes and dressing in the elaborate nineteenth century style of their former American oppressors. Now the immigrant Blacks oppressed the locals. The Americo-Liberians amounted to no more than 1% of the population but lorded it over the indigenes.

In a neat historical irony, in 1931 an international commission found members of the entirely Black Liberian government guilty of involvement in organised slavery (p.546).

But it the story stops being in any way funny when in April 1980 Master Sergeant Samuel Doe led a coup which overturned a century of Americo-Liberian rule. Semi-literate, Doe came from a minority tribe, the Krahn, from the deep jungle. He and colleagues broke into the mansion of President William Tolbert to complain about unpaid wages. Finding him asleep in bed they shot him multiple times before disembowelling him and dumping his body in the garden. This was the coup where Tolbert’s cabinet ministers were taken down to the beach, tied to posts and shot by a squad of drunken soldiers. I remember seeing the video on the news. This set the tone of ten years of savage, primitive, ignorant, incompetent rule.

Like all stupid people, Doe thought the world revolved around him and thus saw conspiracies everywhere. His comms people publicised the idea that he had survived 38 or more assassination attempts because of his magical powers, because bullets stopped in mid-air, knives refused to cut him, and so on – fairy tales designed to appeal to the largely illiterate population.

In August 1984 Doe arrested a popular university lecturer and 15 colleagues claiming they were planning a coup. When students protested, Doe sent a troop of soldiers who opened fire indiscriminately, stripped students naked, demanded money and/or raped them (p.551). This all made me think of all Kwame Nkrumah’s speeches from the 1950s and 60s about ‘Africa for Africans’, ‘African values’, how a liberated Africa would become a beacon of progress and civilisation…

Throughout all the mayhem the US government stood by Doe, declaring his obviously rigged elections valid, overlooking his brutal massacres, upping annual aid to $80 million, and inviting him to the White House for red carpet treatment. Why? Because he was staunchly anti-Soviet. That’s all that mattered (p.555).

In November 1985 General Thomas Quiwonkpa, who had led the 1980 coup along with Doe, tried to seize power and there was premature rejoicing – until Doe managed to regain control, hunt down Quiwonkpa and have him kicked and hacked to death, followed by even harsher crackdowns on the population, which including victimisation of the entire Gio tribe which Quiwonkpa came from.

In 1989 another former colleague, Charles Taylor, led a militia into Liberia from neighbouring Ivory Coast, thus commencing a guerrilla war against Doe. Doe sent out death squads to devastate villages in the regions Taylor had seized. Taylor armed children (‘Small Boy Units’) and told them to kill everyone. The country descended into barbarity.

Bolstered by cane spirit, marijuana and cheap amphetamines, youths and boy soldiers evolved into psychopathic killers, adorning themselves with women’s wigs, dresses, fright masks and enemy bones and smearing their faces with white clay and make-up in the belief that this gave them supernatural perception…’It’s a children’s war,’ said a senior United Nations observer. ‘Kids get promoted in rank for committing an atrocity. They can cut off someone’s head without thinking. The troops move into a village. They take everything and kill and rape. They stay a couple of weeks and then move on.’ (p.558)

It’s interesting to read that many of the stoned fighters thought that wearing wigs or dresses i.e. adopting two identities, would confuse enemy bullets. Traditional African values. Reminds me of the website I found last time I was reading about this subject, a collection of photos of the surreal garb of drug-addled psychopathic militia men.

In 1989 a colleague of Taylor’s named Prince Johnson split off from Taylor’s army to set up the Independent National Patriotic Front of Liberia, with the result that Liberia became caught in a three-way civil war. Or just – war. Marauding soldiers from each side burned, looted, raped and massacred at will. Half the population fled the country. Nigeria sent a peacekeeping force which didn’t establish any kind of peace but secured a few buildings in the capital Monrovia. When Doe drove down to the port to greet them, he was captured by Prince Johnson’s men.

Johnson ordered a video to be made of his men torturing a badly battered Doe, including the moments when they sliced his ears off. The video became a bestseller across West Africa. You can watch it on YouTube and reflect on the speeches of Kwame Nkrumah explaining how African values would civilise the world.

Inevitably, the African peacekeeping force turned out to be every bit as corrupt and lawless as the militias they were sent to police, giving warlords weapons in exchange for looted goods, leading to the joke that ECOMOG stood for ‘Every Car Or Moving Object Gone’.

Taylor established control everywhere outside the capital, and came to commercial arrangements with western companies to allow trade to continue. In two years he’s estimated to have raked off £200 million from these gangster deals.

Sierra Leone

The chaos from Liberia then spilled over into neighbouring Sierra Leone. This country was already a basket case due to the 17-year, one-party rule of President Siaka Steven whose regime made a fortune trading diamonds via Lebanese dealers, while the economy languished, government employees went unpaid, and gangs of youths filled the streets looking for a cause. The usual.

The force Taylor sent into Sierra Leone in March 1991 called itself the Revolutionary United Front (RUF) and was led by the psychopath, Foday Sankoh. This was the group Anthony Loyd writes about terrifyingly in Another Bloody Love Letter. Child soldiers became a key feature of Sierra Leone’s civil war. They were given drugs, indoctrinated and taught to kill. Some had to kill their own parents as an initiation test. Some hated it, wanted to leave but were afraid of themselves being killed. But others loved it. As researchers Krijn Peters and Paul Richards concluded:

‘The pay may be derisory but weapon training pays quicker dividends than school ever did; soon the AK47 brings food, money, a warm bath and instant adult respect. The combat groups substitutes for lost family and friends.’ (quoted page 563)

Like the white overseers in King Leopold’s Congo, the RUF took to hacking off the hands and limbs of civilians, at random, purely for the terror it created. Hundreds of thousands of civilians fled their homes. A coup in the capital brought Valentine Strasser to power. He paid a firm of mercenaries, Executive Outcomes, to clear the capital Freetown in exchange for rights to the country’s diamond mines. Executive Outcomes fighters cleared Freetown in one week, testament to the shoddy, amateurish character of the African fighters on all sides.

More splinter groups, more coups, more fighting, 14 attempts at a ceasefire, tens of thousands more hand choppings and mutilations. A final ceasefire brought UN intervention. But when the UN went to seize the diamond mines, in 2000, the RUF captured 500 of its peacekeepers. It was now that Britain sent in a full battle force to release the UN troops, seize government buildings and train the SL army. Sankoh was arrested and the RUF splintered into ineffectual groups. In the wake of the British intervention, the UN deployed 18,000 troops to bring about a comprehensive peace.

Eleven years of war had left 50,000 dead, 20,000 mutilated, three quarters of the population displaced, and Sierra Leone at the bottom of the league of human development. Back in Liberia, Charles Taylor amassed a huge fortune from illegal diamond trading. His overthrow in 2003 was as violent and brutal as his coming to power, with two more factions, groups or militias murdering and raping their way to the capital. Eventually Taylor was forced out but flew peacefully to Nigeria to take up life in a comfortable retirement villa. There is no justice on earth, nothing like justice.

30. No Condition Is Permanent (Nigeria)

Meredith describes the brutal rule of General Sani Abacha, military ruler from 1993 to 1998. His crackdown on all opposition. The rise of organisations representing the Ogoni people of the oil-rich Niger Delta who had seen none of the tens of billions of oil money generated around them, only the pollution and destruction of their environment. The work of the popular writer Ken Saro-Wiwa, who was eventually arrested, accused of organising an anti-government conspiracy etc and, despite international protests, executed in November 1995.

Abachi’s death in 1998 is the opportunity for a review of how far the country had fallen. Despite annual oil revenue of $280 billion, income per head was less than a third of what it had been in 1980, at $310; half the population lived on less than 30 cents a day and had no access to clean drinking water. Half of under fives were stunted due to malnutrition. Nigeria was regularly judged to be the most corrupt country in the world.

What this litany of disasters begins to impress on even the most sympathetic reader is that Africans do not seem able of running their own countries. Catastrophic wars, epic corruption, barbaric violence resulting in crushing poverty, if the generation of independence campaigners had seen the future would they have been in such a tearing hurry to gain independence from their colonial masters?

Abachi’s death didn’t bring peace and light: the end of the military regime led to an explosion of political parties across the country, which themselves exacerbated ethnic rivalries, and also the rise of Islamic militancy, which led to clashes between Muslims and Christians. Despite free elections in 1999 and again in 2003, observers wondered whether Nigeria, a country of 120 million made up of 250 ethnic groups, was ungovernable. [That was in 2000. Nigeria’s population in 2023 has almost doubled, to 215 million.]

31. The Honour of Living (Sudan)

General Omar al-Bashir seized power in Sudan in 1989 and declared his commitment to creating an Islamic state. This was followed by the arrest of all opposition figures, torture including burning, beating and rape, the usual behaviour of leaders promising to build a better society – first you have to lock up a lot of people. 1991 saw the introduction of a new Islamic penal code: women were hounded out of public life, segregation of men and women was enforced in all public places, there was a ban on music, cinema and the compulsory Arabisation of all culture.

The ideologue of all this was Hassan al-Turabi, founder of the National Islamic Front and founder of the Muslim Brotherhood. After the first Gulf War, in 1991. Turabi set up the Popular Arab and Islamic Conference to bring together thinkers and leaders to fight back against America’s ‘colonisation’ of the Arab World. Sudan became a refuge for anti-western terrorist groups. This is very important. It marks the start of a new type of aggressive new anti-western ideology, of the war on America.

Meredith gives a good short description of the career of Osama bin Laden. In 1996 the blind cleric sheikh Omar Abdel Rahman organised the bombing of the World Trade Centre. Extremists trained in Sudan undertook assassinations and attacks across the Arab world. In 1998 activists trained by al Qaeda attacked hotels in Kenya and Tanzania, killing 263 people. Now we enter ‘the modern world’, the era we still live in in 2023, the era of unceasing conflict and Islamic insurgency across the entire Arab world.

Their Islamic ideology justified the Bashir regime in intensifying the war against southern, Black, Christian rebels. Villages were bombed, populations massacred and sold into slavery, with the blessing of Islamic scholars. The southern forces split into two parties who had a civil war between themselves in which tens of thousands of civilians died, which triggered a famine in which hundreds of thousands perished (p.594). Humans, eh? Impressive species.

Alongside massacres in the south went the discovery and exploitation of oil. The Khartoum government reaped a huge bonanza and spent it on…arms. By 2002 the civil war had left an estimated 2 million dead. But after 9/11 the Americans became active. Sudan was identified as a training base for Islamic terrorists and Bashir had to back down and promise to comply.

32. Black Gold (Angola)

The crushingly depressing history of Angola in the 1980s and 1980s, a country destroyed by an endless civil war between the supposedly ‘Marxist’ MPLA government based in Luanda, and the madly self-centred, narcissistic, overweening arrogance of Jonas Savimbi, leader of UNITA.

Land mines, aerial bombing, indiscriminate massacre, burning, looting, rape of women and children. Maybe 5 million died, many more had legs blown off by the millions of landmines, the country was laid waste – all while Eduardo dos Santos and the elite of the MPLA lived like kings by salting away the revenue derived from the huge oil deposits found just offshore. Getting on for half the annual oil revenue, billions of dollars, was stolen by dos Santos and his clique, while the children starved to death in the streets. As with Congo, or Nigeria, why give aid to oil- and resource-rich countries which have enough natural income to invest in infrastructure, roads, markets, clean water, schools, but which they either steal or spend on arms and weapons?

33. A Degree In Violence (Zimbabwe)

The slow descent into paranoid dictatorship of Robert Mugabe. I hadn’t realised that he was initially conciliatory towards the white minority, and even his arch enemy Ian Smith, for the first two or three years of his rule because his first priority was eliminating all his black rivals, starting with Joshua Nkomo and his Zimbabwe African People’s Union (ZAPU). It was called the Gukurahundi campaign (Shona for ‘the early rain which washes away the chaff before the spring rains’). During this campaign Mugabe’s notorious Fifth Brigade, trained by North Koreans, rampaged through ZAPU’s heartland, Matabeleland, and massacred thousands of civilians accused of being ‘dissidents’. Some estimates say as many as 80,000 were killed during the 5-year campaign.

Slowly Zimbabwe became like all the other African one-party states, a machine for redirecting wealth into the pockets of a small elite around the figurehead leader. As the economy collapsed and inflation and unemployment rose, so did Mugabe’s deployment of racist, anti-white rhetoric, focused on the policy of farm reclamation, seizing back land from the white farmers who owned a disproportionate amount of it. As Meredith explains, it’s all Mugabe had left, rabble-rousing racism to distract attention from the complete failure of his leadership.

Mugabe’s successive rounds of farm seizures spelled the end of commercial farming as a major industry in Zimbabwe. Many of the confiscated farms didn’t go to the deserving poor but to friends and family and tribal supporters of Mugabe, who then stripped and sold off their assets or left them to rot. Hundreds of thousands of Blacks who worked on the confiscated farms were thrown out of work. Land lay fallow. Food production collapsed. Zimbabwe, once the bread basket of southern Africa, became dependent on food aid.

By 2003 the economy had collapsed and an estimated quarter of the population had fled the country. Three-quarters of the remainder lived on less than a dollar a day. Meredith covers the coming together of opposition movements in the Movement for Democratic Change and the rise of its leader, Morgan Tsvangirai, the elections he contested in 2002 and 2008, elections Mugabe comprehensively managed with intimidation, violence and hectoring messages through state media.

Opposition activists were hunted down, beaten, tortured and in some cases murdered. (p.646)

Meredith’s narrative takes the reader up to 2008 when Mugabe, despite spending 28 years utterly devastating his country, was still in power. It was very depressing to switch to Wikipedia and see that Mugabe continued to rule the country he had ruined for another nine years, till he was overthrown in 2017.

34. Somewhere Over The Rainbow (South Africa)

The books and movies all focus on Nelson Mandela‘s long march to freedom. Not so many examine the calamitous challenges he faced on taking power in 1994: trying to reverse the best part of a century of totalitarian racism which had entrenched grotesque inequality between the affluent whites and the crushingly poor Black population; trying to integrate millions of badly educated young Africans into the economy, trying to introduce Blacks into every level of a 100% white political and civil administration and into SA’s commercial life. The army, the police, the education system, everything needed reforming.

Plus the expectations of activists at all levels who had spent a lifetime working for the ‘revolution’ which would create a land of plenty. There was an epidemic of strikes and protests or just straightforward crime. To all this Mandela had to react much like Mrs Thatcher, explaining that the state just didn’t have the resources to make everyone rich. There would have to be belt-tightening. It would take time.

Meredith has an extended passage describing the work of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, how it struggled to find its way, was a compromise in nature and intent, but ended up unearthing far more than anyone expected. Its impartiality was emphasised by the way it was reviled by both sides, both stalwarts of the apartheid regime and the ANC itself, found guilty of murdering white civilians, Black opponents, of prosecuting a civil war with Inkatha, and the 400-plus victims of ‘necklacing’.

Meredith’s account of Mandela’s sustained efforts to achieve reconciliation between the races at every level bring a tear to the eye. What a hero.

His successor, Thabo Mbeki, elected unopposed to lead the ANC in 1997, was not a hero. Despite having been raised a communist, Mbeki promptly announced a set of neoliberal capitalist policies designed to boost the economy, namely strict fiscal discipline, lower government deficits, privatisation and liberalisation of state industries.

But Mbeki will go down in history as the man who adopted a minority view that HIV did not cause AIDS, promoted this view at every opportunity, refused to support AIDS awareness campaigns, refused to license anti-HIV drugs, for year after year, in the face of mounting criticism both within SA and internationally.

Mbeki insisted on playing the race card i.e. insisting that the global scientific consensus about HIV/AIDS was a racist attack on Black Africans on a par with apartheid. His obstinate refusal to allow anti-retroviral drugs to AIDS patients and pregnant women was calculated, by 2008, to have led to the premature deaths of 365,000 South Africans.

The greatest political challenge facing every nation is not to end up being led by idiots.

Mbeki undertook a more aggressive strategy of getting white businesses to include Black partners but, far from lifting the entire Black population out of poverty, this tended to enrich just the small number of educated, well-connected Blacks. The strategy developed into crony capitalism. Perceiving that they were being discriminated against, some 750,000 skilled whites just left the country, replaced by less qualified or experienced Blacks (p.679). Services decayed. Poverty grew alongside rising violent crime.

South Africa now has exceptionally high rates of murder, gender-based violence, robbery and violent conflict. It has consistently had one of the highest murder rates in the world.

Mbeki turned into a typical African leader. He created a climate of fear in the ANC. He emasculated parliament. He appointed officials for their loyalty to him, not their abilities. He shamefully supported Robert Mugabe even as Mugabe turned into a dictator and reduced his country to beggary.

And, falling into line with traditional African leaders, Mbeki and his cronies became involved in corruption, in particular creaming off hundreds of millions of dollars from state defence procurements. The ANC became split between the Mbeki faction and one led by Jacob Zuma, who himself was charged with money laundering, fraud and rape.

In 2007 Zuma stood against Mbeki and won the post of ANC leader, then stood for the presidency in 2009. The party split, but corruption became more embedded. The gap between rich and poor grew. Crime became the only way to survive for millions. After this book was completed Jacob Zuma went on to be elected president and serve from 2009 to 2018.

Incidentally, Meredith has written a series of books about South Africa, including a biography of Mandela, which explains the authoritativeness of his SA chapters:

  • In the Name of Apartheid: South Africa In The Post War Period (1988)
  • South Africa’s New Era: The 1994 Election (1994)
  • Nelson Mandela: A Biography (1999)
  • Coming to Terms: South Africa’s Search for Truth (2001)

35. Out of Africa

Decline

In 2001 the Organisation of African Unity was replaced by a new African Union. Same old dictators, though. Same corruption, same tribalism, same civil wars. Same population explosion which means half the population live below the poverty line, same huge unemployment, with millions permanently on the brink of starvation. 250 million Africans are undernourished; school enrolment is falling; life expectancy is falling. [This appears to be wrong, now; life expectancy in Africa is, apparently, 63.]

MDGs

By some estimates the West has spend £1.2 trillion in aid to Africa. There has often been little to show. In the 2000s there was a flurry of activity with the creation of the Millennium Development Goals. In 2005 Bob Geldof created a huge media event around the Live 8 campaign and gigs. But the West has donor fatigue. Pledges made under MDGs and Live 8 weren’t carried through. African countries have promised to reform and then utterly failed to do so too many times.

China

Into the breach has stepped China, which has been signing trade deals across Africa. The Forum on China-Africa Cooperation (FOCAC). By 2010 China-Africa trade had leapt to $115 billion. A million Chinese had moved to Africa.

The Arab Spring

And then, just as Meredith was completing this book, along came the Arab Spring leading to the overthrow of ageing dictators in Tunisia, Libya, Egypt and on into the Middle East i.e. Yemen, Bahrein, Syria. And yet within a few years, Egypt was back in the hands of the military, Libya had collapsed as a state, Syria fell into a ruinous civil war; only Tunisia survived and flourished as a democracy.

Kenya

Meredith ends with the calamitous recent history of Kenya, which threw out Daniel arap Moi and his cronies (known as the Karbanet syndicate) after 23 years of looting the country. However, his successor, Mwai Kibaki, merely instituted a new kleptocracy for his tribe and supporters (who came to be known as the Mount Kenya mafia). Corruption reached scandalous new heights with some $4 billion a year, or one third of the national budget, being raked off by the corrupt elite.

When Kibaki refused to accept the results of the 2007 election i.e that he had lost to opposition leader Raila Odinga, he plunged Kenya into tribal bloodshed which left thousands dead, the economy damaged and Kenya’s reputation for stability in tatters. It had become just one more African country, ruined by its corrupt rulers’ inability to cede power.

Africa’s wounds are self-inflicted. Africans have proved ruinously incapable of running their own countries. Meredith ends his book by describing the majority of Africa’s rulers as ‘vampires’ who have converted all the instruments of the state into money-making scams, who use rabble-rousing ethnic rhetoric or state terror to remain in power, while their populations slip ever backwards into poverty, sickness and starvation.

Thoughts

Some pretty obvious themes emerge from this 700-page odyssey but in the last 5 or 6 chapters something bigger than the themes struck me, which is that this is a very negative view of Africa. Often it is very harrowing and dark indeed, as when the subject matter is bleak, as in Algeria, Congo, Rwanda, Sudan, Angola.

But it took me a while to grasp how much this is a journalist’s not a historian’s or academic’s point of view of the subject. And, like all journalists, Meredith accentuates the negative. Man buys a puppy for his kids, who love it, is not news. New puppy attacks children, that is news.

I know it’s an obvious and well-known journalistic principle, but in the last 100 pages it really struck home that Meredith focuses relentlessly on the bad news, on countries with long-running wars and political crises, the ones we read about in the newspapers: Nigeria, Sudan, Angola, Zimbabwe, settings for horrible wars, massacres, genocides even. On the basis of this book it would be tempting to write all of Africa off as an irredeemable disaster zone. But there are 50 or so countries in Africa, and not all of them are having civil wars all the time. Some of them might even be doing rather well. Many people might be living ordinary lives, doing jobs, getting married, having parties. Despite the impression Meredith gives, life expectancy across Africa is actually rising.

Anyway, that was my one Big Thought: that if you only read this book you would be left with the impression that Africa is a vast abattoir of eternal massacre and mutilation, vampire leaders and epic corruption. I don’t think Meredith intends to be biased and I’m sure everything he writes is absolutely true. But by the end of his book I began to think that it’s not necessarily the complete truth, about the entire continent, and all its countries, and all the people who live in them.


Credit

The State of Africa: A History of the Continent since Independence by Martin Meredith was published in England by the Free Press in 2005. A revised edition was published by Simon and Schuster in 2011. All references are to the 2013 paperback edition.

Related links

ISIS: The State of Terror by Jessica Stern and J.M. Berger (2015)

Asymmetrical warfare is defined by asymmetry. Any terrorist ideology that can attract five recruits and the contents of their bank accounts can make headlines for months. A terrorist group with twenty recruits and half a million dollars can make headlines for years.
(ISIS: State of Terror, page 191)

ISIS is the crack cocaine of violent extremism, all of the elements that make it so alluring and addictive purified into crystal form. (p.235)

This book comes highly recommended as ‘a timely account’ and ‘the most important account’ of ISIS, but suffers from the same shortcoming as half the other books I’ve been reading about the Iraq-Afghanistan-al Qaeda turmoil, which is that it’s way out of date. My fault, obviously, not theirs.

It contains an admirably detailed chronology but it only goes up to November 2014. At many points, the authors say things like, ‘At the time of writing it looks like ISIS will…’, ‘It looks like ISIS might…’ expand and hold more territory, or maybe buckle after sustained attack by the US and its allies…they don’t know.

This is irritating because, in a sense, the most interesting thing about ISIS was the international campaign to extirpate it which only got underway in 2014/15 as this book was being finalised and published. Well, more fool me for buying a book which is nearly ten years old, although I can’t find anything more recent on Amazon.

ISIS

As usual, it’s easiest to go to Wikipedia for the basic facts:

The Islamic State (IS; as of 2014), also known as the Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant (ISIL; in 2013) or Islamic State of Iraq and Syria (ISIS) is a transnational militant Islamist terrorist group and former unrecognized quasi-state that follows the Salafi jihadist branch of Sunni Islam. It was founded by Abu Musab al-Zarqawi in 1999 and gained global prominence in 2014, when it drove Iraqi security forces out of key cities during the Anbar campaign, which was followed by its capture of Mosul in Iraqi Kurdistan, and the Sinjar massacre. The organization significantly influenced the course of the Syrian civil war when it announced its expansion into Syria in mid-2013 and began conducting ground attacks against both Syrian government forces and Syrian opposition militias. By the end of 2015, it held an area that contained an estimated eight to twelve million people and stretched from western Iraq to eastern Syria, where it enforced its interpretation of Islamic law. ISIL was estimated at the time to have an annual budget of more than US$1 billion (much derived from control of oil revenue from captured refineries) and more than 30,000 fighters.

The authors start by giving a straightforward chronological account of the rise of Islamic State out of its predecessor organisation, al Qaeda in Iraq (up to the time of writing, in late 2014). Then they go back and retread the same path or narrative but focusing on particular themes, such as the role of foreign fighters and of women; chapters on ISIS’s use of promotional videos and social media; on the complicated struggle to win over followers of al Qaeda and other jihadist groups, not only in the Arab heartland but further afield in the Maghreb and North Africa. They have a chapter on the long-term psychological aims of ISIS, which they consider is to produce a society of dehumanised psychopaths, which partly explains their conscious policy of training child soldiers, forcing them to witness beheadings and whip or shoot prisoners. There is a very interesting chapter about how ISIS’s belief that it is operating in the end time before an apocalyptic Final Battle underpins all aspects of its worldview. And the book concludes with some suggestions about how we in ‘the West’ should manage and contain ISIS.

Names

The group grew out of al Qaeda in Iraq (AQI). When it formally asserted its independence in 2013 it was under an Arabic name which can be translated as the Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant (ISIL) or Islamic State of Iraq and Syria (ISIS). ISIS was the version picked up by most western media outlets, maybe because it has a certain zip and cachet as a word.

In June 2014 the group proclaimed itself to be a worldwide caliphate, a restoration of transnational Islamic rule, and began referring to itself as the Islamic State (IS) and this is the position and the name it retains to the present day. However, the authors, after some discussion, decided to use the earlier name, ISIS for two reasons: a) it is familiar from lots of press coverage b) it is challenging, and silly, in English, to continually write sentences which include ‘IS is…’ ISIS is an easier acronym to manage: ‘ISIS is, ISIS was’ etc.

ISIS leaders

1. ISIS was ‘founded’ by Abu Musab al-Zarqawi in 1999 and led by him until his death in an American air strike in 2006. In fact this history is deeply contested, as the group Zarqawi founds was called Jama’at al-Tawhid wal-Jihad and, in 2004, after he pledged allegiance to Osama bin Laden, he was appointed chief of al-Qaeda in Iraq (AQI). In other words, he was killed before an organisation specifically named ISIS came into being. It is analysts and commentators who claim that the doctrines he practiced in AQI and its extremist policies of a) attacking other Muslims b) in particular attacking Shia Muslims and shrines c) attacking Western operations previously all considered off-limits e.g the United Nations and aid charities – these policies were disapproved of by bin Laden and others in al Qaeda Central but proved attractive and mobilising for the cadres of extremist Sunni jihadists who went on to form ISIS.

2. Zarqawi’s role was taken by Abu Omar al-Baghdadi, leader of the militant groups Mujahideen Shura Council and its successor, the Islamic State of Iraq, until he, too, was killed in an American missile strike in 2010.

3. He was succeeded by Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi. He is recorded as the second Emir or prince of the Islamic State of Iraq from 2010 to 2013. In 2014 ISIS declared the existence of an actual state, the Caliphate, which governed a large part of eastern Syria and western Iraq, and Baghdadi was declared first caliph of this Islamic State, which he ruled until he blew himself up during an American raid in October 2019.

4. A week later IS’s media outlets announced that the new caliph was Abu Ibrahim al-Hashimi al-Qurashi. For a while there was debate about whether this person actually existed or was a fictional front man hurriedly invented by IS leadership. Having lost almost all the territory they held at their maximum reach, in 2016, ISIS were reduced to traditional insurgent attacks, but made significant advances through partner groups in Africa; new branches were opened in Congo and Mozambique. On 3 February 2022, al-Qurashi killed himself and members of his family by triggering a large bomb during a raid by the US Joint Special Operations Command.

In May 2022 ISIL’s West Africa Province said that it had killed 20 Nigerian Christian men in Borno State in a mass execution as a retaliation for al-Qurashi’s assassination. And so it goes on forever, the ideology of massacre, murder and vengeance.

5. Replaced by the third caliph of Islamic State, Abu al-Hasan al-Hashimi al-Qurashi, as confirmed by Al-Furqan Media foundation, Islamic State’s primary media outlet, 10 March 2022. As usual there was a lot of mystery about his true name and identity. In November 2022 it was confirmed that he killed himself by detonating a suicide vest during an operation carried out by former Free Syrian Army rebels.

6. He was replaced in November 2022 by the fourth caliph, Abu al-Hussein al-Husseini al-Qurashi. There are now some 40 IS provinces i.e. regional operations, throughout the Middle East and far into Africa. On 30 April 2023 Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan announced that the Turkish National Intelligence Organization had tracked down and killed Abu al-Hussein the previous day, on 29 April, but this has not been confirmed by the US, who we tend to trust more, nor confirmed by ISIS itself. Schrödinger’s caliph…

The differences between al Qaeda and ISIS

According to the authors the fundamental difference with al Qaeda was that the latter was an elite intellectual movement (pages 55, 192), whereas ISIS set out to be a popular mass movement. Al Qaeda was a sect or cult; they made joining it very difficult, starting with being difficult to track it down or contact it, then you had to go through tests or proofs of fitness. ISIS’s approach was diametrically opposite: it set out to create a utopian new society and advertised for as many members and volunteers as possible (p.73). ISIS made promotional videos and posted messages on twitter and Instagram. Muslim equivalents of the old Lord Kitchener poster, ‘Your country needs you’. The ISIS message was:

You have a place here, if you want it, and we’ll put you to work on this exciting project just as soon as you show up (p.73)

ISIS’s brand, its offering, was a unique combination of extreme violence – horror violence – with promises of a new life and a new world. al Qaeda had a lofty spiritual goal of eventually reaching a new Islamic world at some point far over the horizon. In this respect, its entire worldview was fundamentally defeatist (p.195). ISIS, in its blunt and practical way, declared the brave new world was here and now (pages 118, 195).

Al Qaeda worked on the premise, familiar to us from the revolutionary Marxist terrorists of the 1970s (the Baader-Meinhof Gang, the Red Brigades in Italy) that the masses are slumbering in a sleep of ignorance (p.55). If only you can wake them from their conformist slumber with acts of sufficient outrage and transgression, they would suddenly wake from their slumber, realise that the terrorists were right and that they need to throw off the shallow western consumer capitalist culture which exploits them, overcome their oppressors and institute a new communist/Islamic utopia.

Same here. al Qaeda thought the right kind of terrorist outrage would trigger a mass awakening of the Muslim masses who would suddenly realise that Osama bin Laden was right, the infidel needed to be kicked out of Muslim lands and a new, purified Islamic rule established. But ISIS thought they had achieved that, in the huge swathe of territory they captured 2014 to 2016.

Stern and Berger have a fascinating chapter describing the development of ISIS’s management of traditional and social media. Again, they contrast the very different subject matter and tone between al Qaeda and ISIS productions. al Qaeda’s rhetoric was all about Muslim powerlessness and victimhood. bin Laden lamented how Muslim lands were crushed and downtrodden, in the grip of corrupt leaders in hock to Western powers, the infidel. It was a discourse stemming from the apparently complete grip Western-backed leaders held over the Muslim world, and al Qaeda’s embattled, isolated resistance to that grip (p.108).

By complete contrast, ISIS came to prominence on the waves of chaos and social collapse triggered by the Arab Spring. Suddenly all these immoveable old regimes were collapsing like dominoes. Anything seemed possible. So ISIS’s rhetoric, messaging, videos and social media all reflect exuberant confidence that the world is changing and this is their moment (p.114). The overarching theme of ISIS propaganda was: ‘We are strong and we are winning’ (p.112).

The multiple appeals of ISIS

There are multiple appeals to this way of thinking. One of the most practical is the reality that the transformative event the organisation promises is never actually going to happen and so membership of then organisation is, in a sense, a job for life. The naive utopian dream of transforming the world is the gift that keeps on giving; since the transformed world will never arrive, you’ll just have to keep organising, fund raising and carrying out atrocities. Forever.

This leads to the second appeal, which is that such crusades obviously provide its members with a number of psychological rewards and comforts. Your life acquires a messianic meaning. You acquire a family, the brothers you never had and a wise and all-seeing father figure. You are among like-minded people whose clarity and conviction answers all your anxieties about life (p.82).

And you are working towards a Better World. If, in order to get to this Just, Fair and Peaceful World, you have to kidnap, rape, torture, murder and behead some people, well a) the boss told you to b) the extremity of the acts reinforces the high stakes you’re playing for: the future of the world is in your hands. Also c) such extreme acts bond you with the people you carried them out with; once you’ve beheaded someone with your own hands there’s no going back. And d) such acts show the world that you’re serious, this is the real thing, you’re not backing down until you have built The New World.

All this goes to explain why a disproportionate number of ISIS fighters are foreign i.e. don’t come from its heartlands in Iraq and then Syria. It’s been known for thousands of years that a convert to a religion or cause is usually more zealous and committed than someone born and bred into it. Same here. According to researcher Thomas Hegghammer a) the atrocities recorded on videos which are then distributed i.e. ritual beheadings, are disproportionately carried out by foreign fighters. The text mentions ‘Jihadi John’, real name Mohammed Emwazi, born in Kuwait but raised in London. He became such a notorious figure that he has his own, surprisingly long Wikipedia entry, and was hunted by both the US and UK governments until assassinated in a drone strike.

Plus another, simpler explanation – toxic masculinity:

The ultraviolence served multiple purposes. In addition to intimidating its enemies on the ground… ultraviolence sold well with the target demographic of foreign fighters – angry, maladjusted young men whose blood stirred at images of grisly beheadings and the crucifixion of so-called apostates. (p.72)

Some young men just like fighting. Some yearn for the thrill of killing and risking being killed. Others want the trappings of being a ‘warrior’, not least the sex slaves ISIS took wherever it captured, particularly among Iraq’s Yazidi minority (p.194). Some are criminals looking for opportunities for loot. Some are just psychopaths.

So Stern and Berger’s account fits ISIS neatly not only into the matrix of Islamic terror groups, but also among the wider context of terrorist groups around the world over the last 50 years or so. They define terrorism as having two aspects:

1. Terrorism is deliberately aimed at civilians or non-combatants; this puts it outside all definitions of ‘just war’ in most religious traditions, starting with the Islamic tradition itself.

2. Terrorism is designed to be dramatic in order to achieve propaganda ends; in the case of Islamic terrorism in order to:

a) create fear and dread in the wider target population (‘the hostages should be liquidated in the most terrifying manner which will send fear into the hearts of the enemy’, p.122)

b) wake passive Muslim communities in their host nations from their slumber; to ignite ‘the deadly tinderbox fizzing just beneath the surface of every western country’ (p.97)

Internecine Muslim killing

Mainstream Islam seeks to live in peace with non-believers. Radical or jihadist sects take a more binary approach, believing all infidels or unbelievers can be freely tortured and murdered, for exemplary and propaganda purposes.

But the authors also tell us that recent Islamic theorists have developed the handy notion of takfir which is the pronouncement that a Muslim is no longer a Muslim but an unbeliever i.e. any Muslims who don’t agree with your beliefs aren’t, in fact, real Muslims, and so can also be killed.

This conceptualisation feels like a rationalisation, or extension of, something which already existed in the sweaty world of Islamic jihadi / insurgency / radical politics, which is the notable tendency of Islamic radicals to kill each other. ISIS’s beheadings of Western hostages received a lot of publicity because they were intended to; they were well-produced videos of the killings, very effectively distributed them across social media and the internet, and Western media picked them up and rebroadcast them, exactly as ISIS intended.

Less well known was the time, effort and expense Islamic radicals have devoted to murdering each other. It’s one of the main revelations of this book. In the field, different Islamic fighters attack each other and fight battles. Individual Islamic leaders are targeted and assassinated and sometimes entire meetings of senior leaders. In this respect, many Islamic radical groups do the West’s work for them, which is nice.

Seen from another angle, the internecine bloodshed of these squabbling jihadist groups is just another version of the sectarian violence which erupted all across Iraq after the American invasion, above all of the profound and poisonous enmity between Shia and Sunni Muslims which emerged from the shadow of Saddam to wreck Iraq. And these are both examples of the tendency of Muslim, certainly Arab Muslim countries, to contain seething sectarian animosities just waiting to boil over into civil war: before our modern tribulations came the prolonged civil war in Lebanon and the murderous civil war in Algeria. Now we have social collapse and civil war in Libya, the terrible conflict in Syria, and the under-reported war in Yemen. How these Muslims hate each other.

Al Qaeda and ISIS are Sunni movements. ISIS follows the Salafi jihadist branch of Sunni Islam. This appears to mean that, in order to create their Islamic paradise, they have to intimidate, terrorise and kill as many Shi’a Muslims as possible, as well as carrying out attacks on their mosques and holy places, witness the 2006 ISIS attacks on the Al-Askari Mosque, one of the holiest sites in Shi’a Islam, in Samarra, 80 miles from Baghdad (p.25). This succeeded in triggering reprisal attacks by Sunnis and helping to precipitate the Iraqi civil war (p.25). ISIS propaganda films included accounts of Shi’a death squads killing Sunni Muslims, turncoats from ISIS tell stories of being brainwashed with endless stories of Shi’a evil-doing…which, of course, then justified massacring as many Shi’as as possible. (p.107)

In its publications and in countless videos ISIS extolled the virtues of killing the rafidah (a derogatory term for Shi’a Muslims) and nusayri (a derogatory term for Alawites, members of a sect of Shi’a Islam practiced by members of the Syrian regime). (p.116)

Paradise can, it appears, only be attained by wiping out most of humanity – the whole of ‘the West’, obviously; all other countries or cultures which practice any religion apart from Islam, natch; all Shi’a Muslims, of course, (p.230), all other minority Muslim groups (Alawites, Sufis), plus any Sunni Muslims who disagree with anything ISIS say and can now be rendered unmuslim by the simple process of takfir.

ISIS aims to cleanse the world of all that disagree with its ideology. (p.233)

It is, then, standard genocidal millenarianism. Set out to kill almost the entire world population in order to make the world ‘pure’. And when, as a result of your indiscriminate use of barbaric violence, you’ve alienated the entire world against you – not to worry, the very fact that everyone rallies against you fact is one more proof that you and your brothers alone possess The Truth and are part of a small elite of Truth-knowers and Holy Warriors which the entire world wants to smother.

And so it is that these people become trapped in the paranoid, self-confirming death spiral of the millenarian cult.

The end of the world

Most educated people know that our word Armageddon derives from its use in the Bible’s Book of Revelations and is supposed to be the site of the Last Battle before the End of the World. The word is a Latinisation of the Hebrew‎ Har Məgīddō where Har means mountain and Megiddo means place of crowds.

But I hadn’t heard about Dabiq. Dabiq is a small town in northern Syria near the border with Turkey. It features heavily in traditional Islamic end-times prophecy which predicts that it is here that Muslim forces will defeat ‘Rome’, which modern interpreters take to be ‘the West’, before going on to conquer Constantinople (p.220). Like the Book of Revelation, conceived and written millennia ago, when the configuration of forces and powers was drastically different, but twisted by modern interpreters to suit their current policies.

Anyway, so central was the place and concept and resonance of Dabiq to ISIS that when they established a multi-language magazine to promote their cause, they called it Dabiq (p.119). The authors not only mention this but quote from various editions of Dabiq. And the magazine was first published just a month or so after ISIS captured the actual town of Dabiq (p.224).

This leads into an entire chapter explaining the various Islamic prophecies about the end of the world. Some of these include the institution of slavery, especially sexual slavery, as well as intensified war between the Muslim sects. Seen in this light ISIS’s deliberate inflammation of Sunni-Shia sectarianism in Iraq has an eschatological purpose i.e. it is consciously designed to bring about the End Times.

All of which is set against the over-heated and hysterical atmosphere created by 9/11 and then the American invasion of Iraq. Both the al Qaeda and ISIS leadership have paid close attention to end time prophecies and, of course, their propagandists proudly claim to be striking the first blows in the Final Battle which will lead up to the arrival of the Mahdi and the End of Days.

Except that none of this will happen. The jihadists will just carry on beheading Western hostages, carrying out random atrocities in Africa and, above all, killing lots of Muslims in the name of their common God.

The authors make one important point. Because these warriors are living in the End Times and fighting the Final Battle between cosmic forces of Good and Evil normal moral rules do not apply. Millenarian groups are the most likely to carry out acts of barbarity because they have passed beyond the realms of normal human morality (p.225).

This chapter, Chapter 10: The Coming Final Battle, is arguably the most enjoyable of the book. It presents a useful summary of modern thinking about apocalyptic and millenarian movements, listing their attributes, quoting experts on the subject on the appeal of their psychology, and then assessing how many of these attributes apply to either al Qaeda or ISIS.

For example, it offers fascinating interpretations of the beheading videos which brought ISIS notoriety in the West. There are at least three motives or meanings:

  1. The beheadings are designed to create fear and terror in western countries out of all proportion to ISIS’s actual capacities.
  2. The beheadings are meant to goad western powers i.e. America, into another invasion, this time of Syria, which will a) spread even more chaos across the region, thus allowing ISIS to flourish b) comply with millenarian prophecies that the ‘crusaders’ will return to Muslim lands once again and be finally, definitively defeated.
  3. Then there’s just the simple explanation that the people carrying out the beheadings really are psychopaths and sadists.

But towards the end of the book, they offer a fourth interpretation: this is that the beheadings enact the great psychological simplification that the beheaders have undergone: they now live in an End Time world of extreme black and white, us and them, good and evil. So the videos are designed to trigger an equally simplistic response in their viewers, making viewers so angry that they themselves resort to the same psychologically basic binary of good and evil.

In other words, they were designed to erase the sophistication and complexity of modern western thought, to trigger the same simple-minded binary good guys-bad guys dichotomy that characterised Bush and Blair’s response to 9/11.

But, the authors warn, we shouldn’t let ourselves be brought down to their level, not just of barbarism, but of simple-mindedness. The world is a complex place, societies are complex thing, people are complex animals and multi-levelled complex problems like Iraq or Syria require immensely subtle, complex and thought-through solutions.

Using good guy-bad guy rhetoric like Bush and Blair did is a failure of the sophistication and intellect we pride ourselves on, but this isn’t just a rhetorical analysis. It led us into simplistic thinking (invade – overthrow dictator – install democracy – leave grateful nation) which bore no resemblance whatsoever to the immense complexity of the situation on the ground. ISIS want us to do that again. We mustn’t.

ISIS and social media

Immensely knowledgeable though the book is, it has, in my opinion, a central weakness. The longest chapter in the book (Chapter 7: The Electronic Brigades) is a detailed analysis of al Qaeda and ISIS’s use of social media, particularly Facebook but especially Twitter. I found this very tedious – ISIS use social media much like everyone else, to publish videos and share propaganda material, no real surprise – but the chapter is clearly so long because one of the authors, J.M. Berger is, apparently, a real expert in this area and, they tell us, was commissioned by Google Ideas to carry out research into ISIS supporters and Twitter (p.171).

So this explains why this chapter is so long and contains so many detailed stats about ISIS social media users and followers. But the thirty pages of this account boil down to a repetitive and boring iteration of the basic problem facing the owners of Twitter which is how far the principle of free speech should let Twitter users publish highly inflammatory and homicidal content. The chapter includes lots of really boring facts about al Qaeda and ISIS’s twitter accounts and social media stars and how many accounts were suspended or cancelled and the various strategies jihadis resorted to to try and hang onto accounts etc etc. It feels exactly like an academic report prepared for a big corporation which has been tweaked and re-versioned to become the chapter of a book.

Then, at the very end of the main body of the book, is a chapter which offers the authors’ thoughts about the way forward for the West in tackling ISIS and this also is mainly concerned with a detailed look at how to counter ISIS’s messaging on social media, repeating many of the ideas already laid out at boring length in chapter 7. They list five goals ISIS have in their social media strategy and how we in the West can counter all five.

Anyway, my point is that, all this focus on the minutiae of ISIS’s twitter accounts comes at the expense of a military analysis of ISIS. There is nothing anywhere in the book about how ISIS came to be such a successful military operation. ISIS didn’t manage to overrun a large part of Syria and Iraq, eventually controlling a third of Iraq’s territory and seizing the hugely important city of Mosul, just by being good at social media.

This book is very interesting on what you could call the cultural aspects of ISIS, about jihadi psychology, the psychology of terrorism and millenarian cults, good at giving extended comparisons of its radical worldview with that of its progenitor al Qaeda, and much more.

But it is a complete blank when it comes to explaining how this ragtag outfit of extremists and sadists was transformed into such a very effective fighting machine. There is nothing about its military campaigns, no analysis of its military strategy or tactics, no account of any battle or fighting at all.

And, having been published in 2015, no account at all of the military campaign undertaken by the US and other Western allies to extirpate it. For the entire military side of the story you’ll have to look elsewhere.

American comedy

The United States had invested $25 billion in training and equipping the Iraqi army over the course of eight years. That investment evaporated in the blink of an eye as Iraqi soldiers turned tail and fled in the face of ISIS’s assault on Mosul. (p.45)

Tikrit, the hometown of Saddam Hussein, fell soon after Mosul. At many stops along its march, ISIS captured US-supplied military equipment from fleeing Iraqi soldiers, which they trumpeted with photos on social media. (p.46)

Money well spent, then.

American chaos

The American invasion of Iraq created chaos, insurgency, ethnic division and civil war throughout Iraq, which then spilled into neighbouring Syria when it experienced its failed Arab Spring rebellion in 2011.

This catastrophic environment, the collapse of these two societies into chaotic violence, also explains the difference between al Qaeda and ISIS because it made the apocalyptic, millenarian, end-time beliefs espoused by the latter seem much more plausible.

Wikipedia quotes from William McCants’ book, ‘The ISIS Apocalypse: The History, Strategy, and Doomsday Vision of the Islamic State’:

‘References to the End Times fill Islamic State propaganda. It’s a big selling point with foreign fighters, who want to travel to the lands where the final battles of the apocalypse will take place. The civil wars raging in those countries today [Iraq and Syria] lend credibility to the prophecies. The Islamic State has stoked the apocalyptic fire…For Bin Laden’s generation, the apocalypse wasn’t a great recruiting pitch. Governments in the Middle East two decades ago were more stable, and sectarianism was more subdued. It was better to recruit by calling to arms against corruption and tyranny than against the Antichrist. Today, though, the apocalyptic recruiting pitch makes more sense than before.’

So… America is directly responsible for creating the super-chaos which raged across Iraq and amid which new types of extreme jihadi terrorism were able to develop and flourish. Also from Wikipedia:

According to Iraqis, Syrians, and analysts who study the group, almost all of ISIL’s leaders – including the members of its military and security committees and the majority of its emirs and princes – are former Iraqi military and intelligence officers, specifically former members of Saddam Hussein’s Ba’ath government who lost their jobs and pensions in the de-Ba’athification process after that regime was overthrown.

The former Chief Strategist in the Office of the Coordinator for Counterterrorism of the US State Department, David Kilcullen, has said that: ‘There undeniably would be no Isis if we had not invaded Iraq.’ (Wikipedia)

Or as Stern and Berger put it:

The rise of ISIS is to some extent the unintended consequence of Western intervention in Iraq. Coalition forces removed a brutal dictator from power but they also broke the Iraqi state. The West lacked the patience, the will and the wisdom to build a new, inclusive one. (p.238)

The road to hell is paved with good intentions, with fine moral ideals and high-sounding rhetoric about ‘freedom’ and ‘justice’ and ‘democracy’ (see the speeches of George Bush and Tony Blair), all pitiful bullshit. Stern and Berger sum up the message of all the books I’ve read about Iraq and Afghanistan in one pithy sentence:

The only thing worse than a brutal dictatorship is no state at all (p.237)

Or Islamic State.


Credit

ISIS: The State of Terror by Jessica Stern and J.M. Berger was published by William Collins in 2015. References are to the 2016 paperback edition, with an additional afterword.

Related links

New world disorder reviews

Investment in Blood: The True Cost of Britain’s Afghan War by Frank Ledwidge (2013)

Before the British burst onto the scene, Helmand was ‘stable’ in the sense that there was almost no Taliban presence and little prospect of any. After three years of British presence, the province was the most savage combat zone in the world. With British forces and their commanders out of their depth, it was only the intervention of a powerful US force of marines that brought some level of control to the situation.
(Investment in Blood, page 217)

This is by way of being the sequel to Ledwidge’s critically acclaimed book Losing Small Wars: British Military Failure in the 9/11 Wars (2011). Ledwidge is formidably well qualified to discuss the issues. He has had an impressively wide-ranging career both in and outside the military. He started life as a barrister, then served as an intelligence officer in the naval reserve in Iraq before going on to act as a civilian justice adviser in Afghanistan. These days he’s an academic.

The true cost

Nowadays you can just google ‘cost of Afghan war’ and get a host of topline figures. Delve into a few articles and you quickly get a sense of the quagmire of conflicting estimates and figures.

According to the top result, from Brown University, as of 2023, since invading Afghanistan in 2001, the United States has spent $2.313 trillion on the war, which includes operations in both Afghanistan and Pakistan.

As to the UK, I came across this BBC page ‘Afghan withdrawal a dark chapter for UK, says Defence Committee chair‘ which puts the cost to Britain of its Afghan adventure at nearly £30 billion. Everyone has an axe to grind, everyone has an angle.

So why read a book about a subject so readily available on the internet? Well, for two reasons: 1) because books give context, angles, interpretations and, above all, ideas, in ways which ‘objective’ sources like the BBC, Wikipedia, newspaper articles, generally don’t. And 2) for the style and personality and character of the author, enjoyable, fluent, enlightening or dim and patronising, as they may be.

Investment in Blood is in three parts.

Part 1. Casualties

Chapter 1. Why we went there

And why a small peacekeeping force found itself thrown into a full-scale war. For Ledwidge a leading reason the heads of the British Army wanted to deploy to Afghanistan had nothing to do with peacekeeping or tackling the opium trade, it was a self-interested wish to keep Treasury funding coming, to bolster the business case for maintaining the army the size it was, to hang on to battalions which were threatened with being disbanded, on the principle of ‘use them or lose them’ (pages 21 and 120).

Chapter 2. The human cost i.e. army casualties

Starting with the 454 British dead, then the thousands who suffered life-changing injuries, especially amputations, and then the psychological impact, especially the much-vaunted post-traumatic stress disorder.

Chapter 3. Afghan civilian casualties

Abdul Zia has been living for six years in the dirt-poor camp of Nasaji Baghrami, set in sea of mud, excrement and pathetic tarpaulins…It is located in Kabul’s particularly dirty and unpleasant fifth police district…There was a time when life for Mr Zia was much better: he used to have a small farm and seven children. That farm was in the Lashkar Gah district of Helmand. But then one day in 2006, shortly after the British entry into Helmand, for no reason that he can fathom his house was hit by a missile or a bomb from a NATO plane. Whatever it was, it killed six of his children. (p.94)

Afghan dead

Ledwidge explains his methodology which restricts itself to Afghan civilians killed by NATO forces according to reliable, certifiable sources then proceeds through each year, carefully accrediting the numbers. He reaches a total of at least 542 Afghan civilians killed by NATO forces. Compare and contrast with these figures from the US Institute of Peace: 70,000 Afghan military and police deaths, 46,319 Afghan civilians (probably a significant underestimation) and some 53,000 opposition fighters.

Afghan wounded (p.91).

He has no figures and so gives anecdotal evidence of the number of wounded civilians attending the NGO-run civilian hospitals. Other sources claim numbers to be in the hundreds of thousands.

Afghan refugees

Then there are the refugees forced to flee their homes (p.93). According to the UN Refugee Agency, as of December 2021, the total number of people displaced by conflict inside Afghanistan is 3.5 million.

Part 2. Financial costs

Chapter 4. The cost of the vast logistical effort of installing and maintaining a brigade in Afghanistan

The American government is admirably open about the money it spends on its military campaigns, the British government is secretive and hostile to researchers.

This turns out to be impossible to ascertain because of the byzantine and different methodologies used by the Ministry of Defence and the Treasury. Ledwidge quotes several army officers and civil servants saying nobody really knows the cost of a war like this. Instead there is a confusing range of estimates depending on accounting methods and definitions, but some of the figures cited are staggering.

According to the MoD’s own figures it costs about £400,000 to keep one soldier in the field for one year, plus about £60,000. In 2012 a parliamentary question revealed the ‘net additional cost’ of military operations since 2001 as £17.3 billion. Between 2006 and 2012 it cost about £15 million per day to maintain the UK’s presence in Afghanistan.

The most gobsmacking fact, for me, was the chief of logistics to General Petraeus saying the cost of air conditioning alone to all US army bases in Iraq and Afghanistan was over $20 billion.

He has a passage describing the scale of the vast Camp Bastion in Helmand which, at its peak, was home to 22,000 troops and support personnel for 12 different nations.

The blackly Catch-22 aspect of the war is that most of the supplies are not flown in but driven into landlocked Afghanistan by brave lorry drives, much of it contracted out to security companies. Much of this is through Taliban-held territory so many of the security companies have come to arrangements with local tribal and Taliban leaders, paying them retainers not to attack their convoys. So UK taxpayers money goes to the Taliban to bribe them into not attacking the supplies being sent to the British Army so they can carry on fighting them (p.113).

Billions of pounds were spent on kit – transport, guns, ammunition – which we handed over to the Afghan police and army and which, in 2021, they handed over to the Taliban without a fight. Ledwidge predicted this would happen in 2012 (p.117).

Chapter 5. The cost of caring for the wounded and the role of charities

There used to be a number of hospitals run by the armed forces solely for military casualties. One by one these have been closed due to government cuts and now there are none. Instead there are Ministry of Defence Hospital Units, or MDHUs, embedded within civilian National Health Service hospitals. Ledwidge explains why it is quite a loss in security and psychological well-being for veterans not to be treated in units entirely staffed by their own people, who understand what they’ve been through. Ledwidge repeats reports that some wounded veterans have been barracked by other patients in NHS hospitals.

A lot of care for wounded soldiers, whether physical or mental, has been funded by charities, especially the high profile and successful Help for Heroes, founded in 2007, which complements the work of older service charities such as the Royal British Legion.

In his Afterword, written in March 2014, Ledwidge explains his methodology for calculating that the cost of supporting the nearly 3,000 troops who were evacuated from Afghanistan and the thousands more who will apply for medical and psychiatric help, for the rest of their lives, will probably cost some £10 billion (p.238).

Chapter 6. The civilian efforts i.e. the cost of development: has it really gone to help ‘the poorest of the poor’?

An eye-opening account of the work of the Department for International Development which Ledwidge calculates to have spent over £2 billion in Afghanistan. The obvious problems are that the majority of that has gone to the Afghan government, which is a byword, both among its population and internationally, for corruption. In fact it’s debatable whether it is even a government at all in the normal sense of the word or a collection of regional warlords and narco-bosses (of ‘gangsters and warlords’, in Ledwidge’s words, p.170). So that, in the words or a security officer:

‘The only Afghan lives I’ve seen transformed by western aid agencies are warlords who’ve used siphoned funds to build mansions, amass huge overseas property portfolios and arm private militias.’ (p.148)

The other thing about aid money is the surprising amount of it which is spent on freelance aid consultants, earning £500 to £1,000 a day. Whenever these leave a fortified camp i.e. Camp Bastion, they must be accompanied by armed security guards who cost much the same amount, per guard, per day. The fatuousness of so many misguided ‘development’ projects is brought out by the next chapter.

Neocolonialism not colonialist enough

Ledwidge makes a point also made by Jack Fairweather, and quotes Rory Stewart among others making the same point: which is that, in imperial times, imperial administrators of a province would make it their life’s work, often stayed in post for a decade or more, learned the language, got to really know the local people, culture, religion, economy and maze of feuds and tribal allegiances. Slowly they built up a sense of what is possible and how to do things with the locals’ consent.

That entire approach has been lost. In modern ‘nation building’, advisers and consultants and experts are flown in for short-term placements, often with little understanding of the local culture, to implement off-the-peg ‘development projects’ which they’ve applied in Sierra Leone or Uruguay or some other completely different culture (p.157).

Thus Ledwidge gives the comic anecdote of a senior British woman official instructing a provincial governor what to do in front of his Pashtun colleagues, which amounted – in their culture – to a public humiliation and guaranteed that he would not do what she was telling him (p.153).

He also hints that so-called ‘experts’ hired for development and nation building don’t know what they’re talking about. He met experts in his own specialist subject, international law, who had never done a day’s work abroad i.e. hadn’t a clue (p.157).

To return to the first point: we laugh at them, we criticise them, we abhor them; but our imperial forebears were much, much better at this kind of thing than we are. The British government spent £40 billion, lost 440 soldiers and killed thousands of civilians and…for nothing.

Part 3. Assessment of what was won or lost

Chapter 7. What was achieved in Helmand?

Did the British Army presence bring peace and security? Did it eliminate the Taliban threat? Is the improvement, if any, sustainable? Did we eliminate opium as the mainstay of the economy, as Tony Blair promised we would? The answer to all these questions is a resounding no.

At the time of writing, Afghanistan had received tens of billions of dollars in international development assistance plus at least $900 billion from the international community and yet: according to the UN development index the country was ranked 181 out of 182; it was the poorest country for which reliable figures exist; it came bottom on lists for access to safe water and enrolment in all stages of education. It had the third highest infant mortality rate in the world and the lowest life expectancy, at 43.6 years. 42% of the population live on less than a dollar a day (p.168).

More importantly, the relentless focus on finding a military solution i.e. fighting the Taliban, has led to a new level of the militarisation of society.

The executive director of the charity War on Want believes that ‘Western intervention has managed to produce a country which, even after the 20 years of civil war which preceded it, is even more fractured and militarised than it was before’. (p.170).

One of the many reasons for the failure of Western efforts is because they were built around the idea that the central government was ‘elected’ and therefore had a ‘democratic mandate’, and all efforts flowed from this premise, two leading ones being a) training the Afghan police force and b) giving the majority of aid money to this government and training them how to run a country and disburse it responsibly.

Unfortunately, the ‘democratically elected’ government is little more than a bunch of ‘gangsters and warlords’ (p.170), who sent their aid money straight on to their Swiss bank accounts or to buy real estate in Europe or to pay their tribal supporters, while the Afghan police continued to be a byword for uselessness and corruption with a lot of rape and child abuse thrown in.

Afghan legal officers – Ledwidge’s area of expertise – had a habit of being assassinated (p.172). In practice, lots of local legal officers and enforcers quietly made deals with the Taliban about what they were or weren’t allowed to do i.e. in effect, the Taliban ran law and order (p.172).

Ledwidge says policy makers in theses nation building efforts bang on about building schools and hospitals to win over hearts and minds, but this policy has two very obvious flaws: 1) it’s relatively easy to build the buildings, but then who staffs them? Training doctors and teachers will take years and years. In fact, the allies had to stop building schools and hospitals in Afghanistan because there was no-one to man them, a problem euphemistically referred to as ‘overbuilding’ (p.173).

2) Northern Ireland had an insurgency for 30 years and it had all the schools and hospitals you can imagine. That wasn’t what the people needed. What they needed was a political settlement which would offer security for all. That’s what the people in all these trouble spots want first and foremost. Security. And that’s what the coalition forces failed to provide in either Iraq or Afghanistan (p.173).

Fascinatingly, the Soviets did understand the long-term nature of this kind of commitment and took tens of thousands of Afghan doctors, lawyers, soldiers, policemen, prison officers and so on back to Russia and trained them over many years. With the result that many of the current Afghan officials Ledwidge met as part of his work spoke fluent Russian. But none of the occupying powers were prepared to make that kind of commitment (p.174).

He tells a funny story about UK Foreign Secretary David Miliband visiting Helmand and inviting two Afghan ministers for dinner. In all innocence he asked these ministers how long he thought central government officials, civilian and military, would remain in the provincial capital, Lashkar Gah, after the NATO forces withdrew, and they replied…about 24 hours (p.174). Exactly. And this is indeed what happened when the Americans withdrew their last forces in August 2021. The security forces fled or melted away and the Talinan was back in power within days.

Opium

The Taliban almost completely banned Afghan farmers from growing opium (p.176). As the incoming NATO forces pushed the Taliban out, opium growing returned and, Ledwidge asserts, this time around the Taliban allowed it to and took a cut to pay for their weapons.

By 2007 Helmand, just one of Afghanistan’s 34 provinces, supplied over half the world’s poppy crop. He makes the basic point that, at the time of writing, a hectare of wheat was worth £475 to an Afghan farmer, whereas the same area of opium might be worth £6,500 (p.177).

Ledwidge has a good handle on this because when he served as a ‘justice adviser’ in Afghanistan he was actually paid out of the UK’s counter-narcotics budget (p.178).

Women’s rights

After the Soviet Union invaded Afghanistan they attempted to develop its economy and modernise its society. A key aspect was promoting women’s rights in this fantastically conservative, patriarchal society. By the time they quit the country in 1989, some 70% of teachers, 50% of government workers and 40% of doctors were women (p.184). The point is, the West armed the mujahideen for ten long years in order to overthrow the Soviet occupation and eventually succeeded. Whereupon the country collapsed into civil war, from which chaos emerged the Taliban who, as we all know, plunged the country back into the Dark Ages, part of which was sacking all women from all jobs and banning them from leaving the house unless accompanied by a male relative.

Which regime was better for women, Soviet rule or Taliban rule? Their Afghan adventure was seen as the Soviets’ Vietnam, and the long drag on their national resources, and the social unrest it caused contributed, maybe, to the final collapse of the Soviet Union. Still. It makes you wonder whether life for many Afghans, and pretty much all Afghan girls and women, would have been immeasurably better if the Soviets had been allowed to continue their rule of the country.

By the end of this withering chapter it’s hard to avoid the thought that Afghanistan exists as a kind of mockery of all notions of international development, state building, foreign aid and so on. Or, as Ledwidge puts it:

The attempt to impose Western-style government and legal systems on a country that has no real inclination to adopt either – and to do it a matter of a decade or so – was always doomed to failure. (p.187)

Poll results

Ledwidge shares the hilarious results of opinion polls which have been from time to time carried out on the Afghan population. In one just 8% of Afghans living in Helmand Province (Helmandis) had even heard of the 9/11 attacks in New York. This is really important because it indicates the way that hardly any of the population understood why the NATO forces were there; most of the population thought they were just the latest in a long line of murderous invaders. Further, only 30% believed that NATO protected the population from attack, while 65% believed NATO killed more of the population that the Taliban did. When informed that the main aim of NATO forces was to introduce democratic values, 72% of those polled couldn’t explain what that meant (p.188).

These and other stats help explain why so many young Afghan men didn’t understand any of our high-falutin’ ambitions about nation building and development and democracy and all the rest of it, and just thought of themselves as patriotic heroes combating the latest wave of brutal, destructive invaders, like their fathers and their grandfathers before them.

Chapter 8. Have we in Britain been made safer by both wars?

Are we ‘safer’ as a result of Britain’s involvement in the invasions of Iraq and Afghanistan, as Tony Blair and Defence Secretary John Reid claimed? Was it ever in out best interests to pursue these wars?

No. Ledwidge claims that most army officers know the simple truth: that both the wars, in Iraq and Afghanistan, were fought primarily to satisfy Tony Blair’s misguided wish to keep in with the Americans (p.205). The second campaign, in Afghanistan, was mainly fought because the army desperately wanted to rehabilitate itself in the eyes of our American masters after ballsing up big time in Basra. Neither had any relevance at all to Britain’s actual, present or future security needs. Fighting the Taliban was always a stupid, stupid thing to do. Ledwidge quotes a former NATO official at the time:

‘[The Taliban] pose no threat to Britain and not one Afghan has ever been involved in any terror attack in Europe or the US. It is simply rubbish to assert that British soldiers are fighting impoverished opium farmers and $10 a day gun-for-hire insurgents in Helmand Province to protect the British people from terror attacks. These Afghans are fighting our soldiers because they just don’t like foreigners and never will.’ (quoted page 198)

In the event, both Ledgwidge and Jack Fairweather give plenty of evidence that the British Army’s dismal failures in Basra and Helmand irreparably damaged the so-called ‘special relationship’ with America. Ledwidge cites former Chief of Staff of the US army, General Jack Keane, addressing a conference at the Royal Military Academy Sandhurst in 2013:

‘Gentlemen, you let us down; you let us down badly’ (quoted page 233)

And this is the view widely held in the US military. Then again this may be no bad thing if it forces the UK political and defence establishments to distance ourselves from America and think through our likely defence threats and strategies from a purely British position. Don’t hold your breath, though. The ludicrous embarrassment of Brexit was proposed partly by Conservative politicians convinced that our future lies with America, 4,000 miles away, rather than with the continent just 20 miles away.

The people who run the British establishments, in politics, the military, the arts and media and many other sectors, will continue to kiss American arse for the foreseeable future. As Ledwidge puts it: ‘The results of this are toxic and go far beyond the military’ (p.206).

The so-called ‘special relationship’ has led Britain into the invasion of two Islamic countries. Her confused and inconsistent strategy (or the lack of any strategy) in the ensuing wars and her over-enthusiastic and totally uncritical following of US policy have been intensely damaging to British (and Afghan) interests. The policies pursued have been entirely counter-productive and literally self-defeating. (p.208)

As a result of tagging along behind America on these two misguided interventions we in Britain have been made less safe in two ways. 1) We have generated a home-grown generation of angry young men here in the UK, outraged by our invasion of Muslim countries and killing of Muslim civilians. Some of these have carried out terrorist attacks on our own soil as a result of British intervention in Iraq and Afghanistan. As Pakistan and security expert Anatol Lieven puts it:

‘UK policy has been an absolute disaster in the perception of the Muslim population and has produced a significantly increased terrorism threat.’ (quoted page 210)

The second way in which these disastrous wars have made us less safe is we have wasted billions investing in the wrong kind of armed forces. In particular all the money has gone to the army (which, it turned out, was incapable of supplying its soldiers with the kind of equipment they needed) at the expense of the other two branches of the armed service, the navy and air force.

This explains why, when NATO wanted to support the anti-Gaddafi forces in Libya, it was the French who led the attacks – because they have a fully functioning aircraft carrier and lots of planes; we don’t.

By emasculating the Royal Navy to pay for the army and its operations in the Afghan desert, the UK has jeopardised the defence of our island nation’s vital interests. (p.213)

All the time, intellect, energy, money, material and resources ploughed into fighting badly organised peasants 5,000 miles away have completely distracted attention from the very real threats we face from a) larger, more conventional armies i.e. Russia, fighting in Europe and b) the serious emerging threat of cyber-attacks.

Thoughts

Out of date

The most obvious point is the book is fabulous as far as it goes, but is now out of date. Ledwidge wrote it in late 2012-to-early 2013 i.e 10 long years ago. Since then, residual units of the British Army racked up more time in Afghanistan alongside the much bigger US presence, and the fight against the Taliban ground on, with accompanying NATO losses and civilian collateral damage, for another 8 years. And it all led up, of course, to the humiliating US withdrawal which concluded in August 2021.

So most if not all Ledwidge’s figures are out of date. What remains valuable, though, on a procedural level, is his careful structuring of the entire subject and his explanations of the methodologies he used; and on a conceptual level, the questions he asks and the searingly critical conclusions he comes to. All of these shed new light and angles on the story of the war.

Slow starting, ferocious ending

The second point is that, at least to begin with, this is a less impressive book than its predecessor. It feels more hurried. In the first book he took the reader with him, his points were carefully argued, we shared his slowly growing sense of disgust and horror, so there was a dynamic aspect to the narrative.

In this book he takes his anti-war attitude for granted and so doesn’t so much take us on a journey but just restates his disgust. An example of this is the way he uses the same small number of negative quotes from people involved in the wars not as the punchline of extended arguments, but as short-hand, as quick reminders, and uses them repetitively. So he tells us more than once that the former UK ambassador to Afghanistan Sir Sharrard Cowper-Coles thought the war was a waste of time. These kind of quotes are used as a kind of shorthand, summarising the more extended forms of the arguments he gave us in the preceding book.

That said, the final two chapters, 7 and 8, finally become really angry, rising to the level of evidence-based excoriation found in the first book and leaving you shaking with fury at the idiocy and incompetence of British politicians and army leaders. What a shambles. As an Afghan friend of Ledwidge puts it:

‘We were promised good governance: where is it? We were promised economic growth: where is it? We were promised stability: where is it? (p.190)

454 British troops killed, thousands badly injured and crippled. Tens of thousands of Afghan dead. Tens of billions of pounds wasted. And a week after we left, the Taliban rolled back in and took power again, as if nothing had happened. It’s hard to think of a more complete definition of futility.


Credit

Investment in Blood: The True Cost of Britain’s Afghan War by Frank Ledwidge was published in 2013 by Yale University Press. References are to the 2014 YUP paperback.

Related links

New world disorder reviews

A War of Choice: Honour, Hubris and Sacrifice: The British in Iraq by Jack Fairweather (2012)

This is an outstandingly thorough, factual and authoritative account of the British Army’s involvement in the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, maybe the most comprehensive, detailed and balanced account available.

Jack Fairweather

Jack Fairweather covered the Iraq War as the Daily Telegraph‘s Baghdad and Gulf correspondent for five years. He and his team won a British Press Award for their coverage. He went on to be the Washington Post‘s Islamic World correspondent. By the time this book was published he had become a fellow at the Centre for Middle Eastern Studies.

It’s a solid work of 430 pages, consisting of 32 chapters with good maps, thorough notes, a list of key players, a useful bibliography, index and so on. Well done to the publishers, Vintage, for such a professional package.

However, something (obviously) beyond their control is that, having been published in 2012 means the narrative does not include the rise of ISIS and the chaos that ensued. Fairweather’s narrative is now over ten years out of date, a factor I’m coming to realise is vitally important when reading about this disastrous part of the world (Iraq-Iran-Afghanistan-Pakistan) and, in particular, putting the entire conflict in Afghanistan into context, given the swift collapse of the Afghan government and return to power of the Taliban in 2021.

Companion piece to Thomas Ricks’s Fiasco

Having read Fiasco, Thomas E. Ricks’s highly detailed accounts of the US decision making and planning leading up to the war, it’s fascinating to follow the same storyline from the British government point of view. For example, how the UK government made the same mistake of failing to consider or plan for the aftermath of the war, but for different reasons.

Tony Blair was the first British premier to be fully aware of modern media and how to use them. He and Alistair Campbell were all about focus groups, opinion polling and managing the news cycle and this is all short term thinking. Fixated as he and his team were on the media, they were obsessed that concrete proof the UK was planning for war shouldn’t leak out. Therefore Blair forbade the Department for International Development from officially commissioning post-invasion planning (the kind of thing it specialises in) in case someone leaked it (p.13). Similarly, Blair forbade the Army from placing orders for the kind of kit it would need for a large-scale deployment abroad (p.14). So Blair’s obsession with media management prevented him from properly, fully considering the post-conquest management of Iraq, from commissioning adequate plans for reconstruction, and from planning for the post-invasion policing by the British Army. Inexcusable.

Key points

Fairweather covers every detail, every aspect of the story, in calm, measured, authoritative chronological order. This really feels like the account to read.

1997 Tony Blair elected Prime Minister.

1998 Blair supports the Operation Desert Fox bombing campaign against Saddam. New Labour make the first increase to the military budget after a decade of Tory cuts.

March 1999 Blair succeeds in pushing the US and NATO to intervene in Kosovo with a bombing campaign against Serbia (with mixed results; see Michael Ignatieff’s book on the subject).

April 1999 Blair makes his Chicago speech making the case for intervention/invasion of countries on a humanitarian basis if dictators are massacring their people.

The 9/11 attacks change everything. President George W. Bush immediately starts planning an attack on Al Qaeda in Afghanistan. In October 2001 US forces began their attack, supporting the Northern Alliance against the Taliban government. The Taliban overthrown by December 2001. George Bush phones Tony Blair to sound him out about attacking Saddam Hussein.

The long tortuous process whereby the US tries to bamboozle the UN Security Council into agreeing a resolution allowing the invasion, and the New Labour government began its campaign of lies and deception, resulting in the dodgy dossier of fake intelligence, cobbled-together scraps from a PhD thesis including the ludicrous claim that Saddam could launch ‘weapons of mass destruction’ in 45 minutes. It was indicative of the way New Labour were obsessed by media and presentation and paid little attention to substance.

20 March 2003 The ‘coalition’ invasion of Iraq began. During the build-up, a variety of figures in the military and civil service discovered there was no plan for what to do after the invasion. It was mainly the Americans’ fault, Bush only set up an Office for Post-War Iraq a few weeks before the invasion and ignored advice contained in documents like Tom Warrick’s ‘the Future of Iraq’ project (p.15). Reconstruction was handed to retired general Jay Garner who rang round his pals to ask if any of them knew how to rebuild a country. Planning was ‘shambolic’ (p.21).

In London, Attorney General Peter Goldsmith had to be cajoled into reluctantly agreeing that invasion was legal without a second, specific UN resolution stating as much. How much he must regret that now (p.19). Alastair Campbell bullied ministers into kowtowing to Blair’s determination to march alongside the Americans i.e. be Bush’s poodle (p.19). Claire Short, Secretary at the Department for International Development, let herself be persuaded not to quit, something she regretted ever after.

Haider Samad and Iraqi stories

It’s worth highlighting that unlike most other books I’ve read on the shambles, Fairweather goes out of his way to include the stories of actual Iraqis. The first we meet is a man named Haider Samad. We hear about his family background, his wish to marry, intertwined with the history of Shiite religion in the southern part of Iraq. Samad will volunteer to become an interpreter for the British Army with ruinous consequences for himself and his family and Fairweather will return to his story at various points during the narrative as a kind of indicator of the British occupation’s broken promises and failures.

Names

Another distinctive feature of the book is the extraordinary number of named individuals Fairweather introduces us to, on every page, and their extraordinary range. Chapter 3 opens with Major Chris Parker patrolling Basra six weeks after the successful invasion has overthrown Saddam, to his commanding officer, Brigadier Graham Binns, a Scots Dragoon Officer Captain James Fenmore, Lieutenant Colonel Nick Ashmore, paymaster Ian Jaggard-Hawkins, Lieutenant Colonel Gil Baldwin of the Queen’s Royal Dragoons, the army’s top lawyer in Iraq Lieutenant Colonel Nicholas Mercer, SAS commander Baghdad Richard Williams and hundreds and hundreds more.

On one level the book is a blizzard of individual names and stories of soldiers engaged in this or that aspect of the occupation, which is what makes his nine-page list of Dramatis personae at the end of the book invaluable.

Back to the narrative

Defence Minister Geoff Hoon made as light of the epidemic of looting which broke out in the aftermath of the invasion as Donald Rumsfeld did, claiming the looters were ‘redistributing wealth’, which was a good idea. What an idiot (p.29).

The thing is, the British had invaded Basra before, back during the Great War when we were seeking to defeat the Ottoman Empire which had allied with Germany and Austria. Hence the Commonwealth War Cemetery which Sniper One Dan Mills discovered in al-Amarah and gave him a fully justified sense of ‘What are we doing back here a hundred years later’?

Now, as then, after overthrowing the ruling elite, the British discovered there weren’t many capable native Iraqis to run anything, even to form a town council. Eventually, they picked on a Sunni tribal leader to run a majority Shia town, Basra, an error of judgement which, of course, immediately triggered widespread protests (p.31). Ignorance.

Fairweather details how, struggling with the number of detainees and ‘suspected terrorists’ they were being sent, British military police and soldiers came to abuse and intimidate the rapidly increasing number of ‘terrorist’ detainees, set up kangaroo courts and deliver summary justice (p.33). This led to the scandal surrounding Corporal Daniel Kenyon and colleagues who took photos of themselves abusing Iraqi prisoners at ‘Camp Breadbasket’, which leaked out, led to their arrests and trial and conviction (pages 46 to 48). The British version of the Abu Ghraib scandal. All the politicians’ claims about the moral superiority of the West went up in smoke.

After less than 2 months flailing to run an office of reconstruction, Jay Garner was fired and replaced by L. Paul Bremer who was the ‘right kind’ of Republican i.e. a devout Christian and neo-conservative (p.40). He was put in charge of the newly created Coalition Provisional Authority. He was to prove a relentless, impatient workaholic who took catastrophic decisions and plunged Iraq into a civil war and vicious ethnic cleansing.

Fairweather chronicles the key role played by Douglas Feith (under secretary of Defense for Policy from July 2001 until August 2005) in persuading Bremer to completely disband the Iraqi army and remove everyone with high or mid-level membership of Saddam’s ruling Ba’ath Party from their jobs. At a stroke this threw half a million well-trained young men (the army) onto the dole queue and a hundred thousand people with managerial experience (Ba’ath) ditto. Bremer refused to listen to the argument that most Ba’ath Party members cared nothing about the party’s ideology, that being a member was simply a requirement of holding senior posts like hospital consultant or head of the power or water systems. Bremer didn’t listen. They were all fired. Chaos ensued.

From these angry men whose lives were ruined by L. Paul Bremer sprang the insurgency. Tim Cross, a British logistics expert who worked with Garner till he quit in disgust called American efforts ‘chaotic’ and a ‘shambles’ (p.41).

Britain contributed 40,000 troops to the initial invasion. By mid-summer 2003 half had returned to Blighty. General Sir Mike Jackson became head of the British Army.

September 2003 the BBC Today programme quoted an anonymous source claiming that New Labour officials ‘sexed up’ the ‘dodgy dossier’ which we went to war on, infuriating Alastair Campbell. The label was to stick to this day (p.50).

A section about the history of the Marsh Arabs, going back to the first occupation of Iraq by the British during and after the Great War. The exploits of Gertrude Bell, who crops up repeatedly in Emma Sky’s account of her time in Iraq (p.52). The Marsh Arabs’ history of independence and revolt against central authority. The disastrous way they were encouraged to rise up against Saddam by President George Bush who then failed to provide any support so that tens of thousands were slaughtered by Saddam’s forces. Then Saddam’s decade long project to drain the marshes altogether and destroy their way of life, which he had just about achieved by the time of the 2003 invasion.

Maysan was the only Iraqi province to liberate itself from Saddam’s security forces and had no intention of kowtowing to the foreign invaders. Into Maysan province, came the Third Battalion the Parachute Regiment, famous for their gung-ho approach. Fairweather quotes Patrick Bishop’s description of the paras from his book ‘3 Para’ (2007) which I’ve reviewed.

Angry protests against the occupying forces started straight away, with stones being thrown, and then the first shots being fired. It was Northern Ireland all over again, but without the half a dozen crucial elements which made Northern Ireland, in the end, manageable (itemised in Frank Ledwidge’s outstanding book on the subject). In Basra, unlike Ulster, there was a lack of clear government authority, and the lack of a reliable police force to work alongside, the lack of a shared culture and language, and the lack of enough men to do the job.

In a series of incidents which he described in great detail (‘From the rooftop Robinson shouted, “Remember lads, you’re fucking paratroopers”‘), Fairweather traces the quick degeneration of the ‘peacekeeping’ mission into a fight for survival against hostile crowds and growing numbers of highly motivated, highly armed local ‘insurgents’.

The soldiers of 1 Para were only faintly familiar with the region’s history and how it had bred a culture of suspicion of outsiders. (p.55)

Fairweather gives a detailed forensic account of the killing of six military police by an enraged crowd after they got trapped in the police station of Majar al-Kabir on 24 June (pages 55 to 63). Critics focused on the lack of equipment, specifically a satellite phone to call for help, and their insufficient ammunition. Having read Lewidge’s book, though, I understand how the soldiers had been put into a completely untenable position by the naive over-optimism of the politicians (Blair) and the failure of the army general staff either to stand up to the politicians (to say no) and then to provide adequate intelligence, adequate equipment but, above all, a clear strategy to deal with the worsening situation.

Fairweather describes the arrival of a new British civil servant, Miles Pennett, sent to work with the Coalition Provisional Authority (CPA) in Baghdad and the chaos he found there created by teeming hordes of graduates all fresh out of American universities and selected solely for their adherence to right-wing neo-conservative Republican values (p.69).

(In his book ‘Imperial Life in the Emerald City: Inside Baghdad’s Green Zone’ , American journalist Rajiv Chandrasekaran tells us candidates for the CPA were interviewed about their views on abortion or neo-liberal economics rather than any technical qualifications or experience whatsoever. This explains the CPA’s reputation for chaos and incompetence.)

While things fell apart in Iraq, Tony Blair flew to the States to receive a Congressional Gold Medal and make a grandstanding speech to the Congress. It shifted a complete change in the aims of the occupation. Gone was mention of the weapons of mass destruction which had so feverishly justified the invasion. Now, it turned out, the occupation was about bringing universal values of democracy, human rights and liberty to ‘the darkest corners of the earth’ (p.70).

In other words a) indistinguishable from Victorian rhetoric about civilising India or Africa which justified control and occupation; and b) bullshit, because i) quite a few ‘places’ don’t particularly want ‘democracy, human rights and liberty’, they want food and water so they don’t starve to death and, next above that, security: maintenance of law and order so it’s safe to walk the streets. That – basic security – comes a million miles before Western values and, in the event, the occupying forces in both Iraq and Afghanistan turned out to be unable to provide them.

And ii) because as explained at the start of this review, Western-style democracy was never an option for Iraq, with its complex and corrupt matrix of tribal, ethnic and religious allegiances; and never, ever a possibility in Afghanistan.

Pride comes before a fall. The day after Balir received his congressional medal the body of David Kelly, the weapons expert, was found in a wood. He had committed suicide. He had been the source for BBC journalist Andrew Gilligan’s story about the ‘sexed up’ dossier about WMDs the government used to deceive MPs into voting for the war. Hoon and Campbell had pressed for Kelly’s name to be leaked to the press in order to discredit him. It never actually was leaked but enough information was provided for the press to be able to identify him. Snared in a political mesh he could see no way out of without ruining his reputation, Kelly took his own life. Alastair Campbell was forced to resign. The New Labour government was snared in scandal (pages 70 to 73).

All this distracted from the worsening situation in Baghdad. Fairweather’s account is super-detailed. He gives precise names, careers, quotes for hundreds of the personnel deployed to the CPA in Baghdad and to run Basra Province. It was the usual cobbled-together, last minute list of candidates as had characterised the hurried creation of Jay Garner’s short-lived Office for Reconstruction and Humanitarian Assistance: a former director at a merchant bank was appointed finance minister, a public schoolmaster was appointed minister of education, an internet entrepreneur was made minister for trade and industry (p.67).

The advent of Sir Jeremy Greenstock, UK ambassador to the UN, now despatched to the court of Paul Bremer at the Coalition Provisional Authority and the difficulties he encountered, namely the Americans steamed ahead doing whatever they wanted to (dissolved the 500,000 strong Iraqi army, sacked 100,000 Ba’ath Party members from their jobs, delayed elections) and ignored him.

The Anglo-American relationship that Blair had gone to war to strengthen was coming under serious pressure. In fact it was increasingly difficult to find areas where British and American views matched. (p.79)

America’s disastrous early efforts to ‘train’ a new Iraqi police force, handed to Bernie Kerik, a former New York City police commissioner (p.79). Rumsfeld tries to reduce the budget required to train a new army. Fairweather strikingly calls Rumsfeld ‘a bully’ (p.80).

Typical neo con plans to privatise Iraq’s hundreds of state-own industries in one fell swoop, to be masterminded by former venture capitalist at Citicorp, Tom Foley (p.80). Chandrasekaran is very funny about the complete lunacy of this ideas and its ruinous impact on an economy already on its knees.

As a presidential election year approaches, the politicking in the US, Bush reshuffles his team.

Rumsfeld, whose grasp on the chaos he had created was tenuous, was removed (p.83)

Condoleeza Rice takes over. Arguments about the new Iraqi constitution, when it should be drawn up, who it should be drawn up by, whether or not it could form the legal basis for elections, when those elections should be held, what kind of form they take (Bremer preferred US-style electoral colleges rather than a simple poll).

By the end of 2003 Iraq fatigue had set in in London. Blair’s entire personality was built around can-do optimism and so found it difficult to cope with the relentless bad news from Iraq. And he’d lost Campbell, his key advisor and media manipulator.

By October 2003 the British administration in Basra accepted the fact that it was, in effect, an imperial occupation, and moved into Saddam’s palace. Fairweather shows us how it worked through the eyes of Sir Hilary Synnott, Regional Coordinator of the Coalition Provisional Authority in Southern Iraq from 2003 to 2004.

The problem of the UK Department for International development, populated by progressives who strongly opposed the war, and the occupation, were desperate to escape accusations of imperialism, but were entirely dependent on the military pacifying the place before they could do a stroke of ‘development’ work.

When development minister Hilary Benn and permanent undersecretary Suma Chakrabarti flew into Basra it was to discover the army commander, Major General Graeme Lamb, mired in controversy because some squaddies from the Queen’s Lancashire Regiment had just arrested seven Iraqis, took them back to base, hooded them, abused and beat and tortured them, till one of them, Baha Mousa, died (p.86). What was it Tony Blair was saying about bringing universal values of democracy, human rights and liberty to ‘the darkest corners of the earth’?

Meanwhile the other provinces of southern Iraq needed governing. Fairweather introduces us to the men selected for the job, being: Mark Etherington, former paratrooper; old Etonian Rory Stewart, whose account of his time in the role I’ve reviewed; old Etonian John Bourne; Emma Sky, former British Council worker, whose account I’ve also reviewed (p.89).

Fairweather makes the simple but penetrating point that a certain type of posh Englishman has always ‘loved’ and identified with the Arab way of life because it echoes the primitive hierarchy and independence (for tribal leaders) which used to exist in Britain, in medieval to early modern times. They instinctively identified with the feudal setup which reminded them of their own country estates and venerable lineages.

Anyway, these Brits were handed entire provinces to run, exactly as in the high days of empire when jolly good chaps ruled provinces the size of France or more. Their efforts were so amateurish it’s funny. Adrian Weale was handed the task of organising elections in Nasariyah. He had no idea how to do this so emailed his wife, a borough councillor in Kensington and Chelsea (of course), and asked her to send him guidelines for local elections in Britain, to be adapted for Iraq. Making it up as they went along.

None of this stopped Stewart, in Maysan, having problems with the self-styled ‘Prince of the Marshes’, Abu Hatem, while Etherington, 100 miles north, appointed governor of Wasit, whose northern border touched Baghdad, was beginning to have trouble from the followers of Shia cleric Muqtada al-Sadr and his devoted followers. In a telling sentence, Fairweather says: ‘Sadr was organising faster than the British’ (p.91). Sadr established his own parallel provisional government for Iraq and declared any government created by the British or Americans illegitimate (p.91).

In November Etherington attended a conference of US business donors in Baghdad and was astonished at how out of touch the CPA was. Even the US military was surprised at being kept out of the loop by Bremer and his secretive cabal of advisers.

Back in Amara Stewart was involved in a complicated sequence of events which led to rioters looting the office of the local governor, who had been inserted into the job by the egregious Abu Hatem. British troops found it hard to contain brick-throwing mobs. Stewart reflected that his Victorian forebears believed in their mission and were committed to the long-term development of their countries. Deep down Stewart knew that wasn’t true of Britain.

2004 uprisings

All the allies had growing misgivings about the growing power of Muqtada al-Sadr. In March 2004 Bremer took the publication of a series of articles lambasting the Coalition Provisional Authority in Sadr’s newspaper, Al-Hawzat as a pretext to shut it down. On 3 April US troops arrested the editor, sparking protests. On 4 April fighting broke out in Najaf, Sadr City and Basra. Sadr’s Mahdi Army took over several points and attacked coalition soldiers, killing dozens of foreign soldiers. This was the start of the Sadr Uprising in the south of Iraq.

What made the situation ten times worse was that on 31 March gunmen ambushed four American contractors outside Falluja to the west of Baghdad, beat them to death, burned their bodies and hung them from a bridge over the river Euphrates. Footage was beamed round the world. Bush was horrified and vowed revenge.

Suddenly the occupying forces were faced with a Sunni uprising in the so-called Sunni Triangle to the West of Baghdad, and a parallel but separate uprising by violent forces loyal to Sadr in every town in the south.

Fairweather details the experience of Mark Etherington in the Cimic compound at Kut as fierce fighting breaks out between the Shia militia and the Ukrainian UN troops. Here and in all the other towns of south Iraq, the UN and CPA compounds came under intense fire. The Americans’ actions against Sadr in Baghdad effectively plunged southern Iraq into war. Etherington knew all about the catastrophic defeat of a sizeable British Army at Kut by Ottoman troops during the First World War one hundred years earlier (p.109). Fairweather gives a brilliantly vivid and nail-biting description of Etherington and his staff abandoning the compound at Kut. The same kind of thing was happening at Nasariyah under its Italian governor, Barbara Contini.

Meanwhile, the President had ordered the US army to enter the town of Fallujah and find the people responsible for the murder of the civilian contracts. This ridiculously impossible task of course led to all out war and the First Battle of Fallujah. All round the world were beamed footage of houses being destroyed, terrified civilians being rounded up, and thousands of refugees fleeing the city as the civilian casualties grew into the hundreds. All round the Arab world young men decided they had to go to Iraq to fight these genocidal invaders.

Fairweather quotes part of a George Bush speech which epitomises one of the American’s conceptual stupidities, where Bush says: ‘the American people want to know that we’re going after the bad guys’ (p.111). These simple-minded dichotomies, the binary polarities of a thousand Hollywood movies, which divide people up into the Good Guys (John Wayne, Bruce Willis) and the Bad Guys (wearing black hats), governed US policy throughout the twentieth century. This worked fine when there really were Bad Guys, like the Nazis, but not so well in societies riven with complex ethnic, religious, social and political divides, such as Vietnam or Iraq where there’s a wide variety of bad actors and it becomes impossible to figure out who the ‘good’ ones are, if any.

Obviously, in order to bring the ‘murderers to justice’ many times more US troops were killed and injured than the original 4 contractors. In the end 37 American soldiers were killed and over 600 Iraqi civilians. Huge parts of a major city were devastated. Inevitably, the supposed murderers of the contractors were never found.

Apart from the obvious security issues, it caused a political issue because the entire Sunni membership of the provisional Iraqi government which Bremer was trying to cobble together threatened to quit, and could only be made to support coalition forces with an extreme of arm-twisting and promises of money and influence.

Meanwhile, in the south of Iraq, US forces retook the CPA compounds in Kut, Amarah and Nasariyah, but the British consuls who returned to their posts had abandoned all thoughts of reconstruction and development. Not getting killed became their number one priority (p.113).

Bremer was strongly critical of the British failure to secure the south, exacerbated by negative coverage of the American butchery in Fallujah in the British press, plunging American-British relations to a new low and this led to a significant outcome. Bremer banned British representatives from the ongoing discussions with local politicians about the forthcoming constitution and elections.

Britain’s effective involvement in shaping Iraq’s political future was over. (p.114)

In late April the photos of American abuse of Iraqi prisoners at the notorious prison at Abu Ghraib to the west of Baghdad emerged. I’ve described it elsewhere. Bringing ‘universal values of democracy, human rights and liberty’ eh?

For a spell Fairweather’s text overlaps the narrative of Sergeant Dan Mills, sniper with the Princess of Wales’s Royal Regiment, in his bestselling book, Sniper One. Mills describes how, on the very first patrol on the very first morning of the very first day of their deployment, Danny and his patrol parked up outside the local headquarters of Sadr’s Mahdi Army or Jaish al-Mahdi as it was properly called, JAM as the Brits called it. Mills’s patrol did this in complete and utter ignorance of the local geography, town layout, and local sense of bitter resentment of the infidel occupiers.

The JAM attacked, using machine guns, rocket propelled grenades and mortars, and Danny and his mates found themselves in the middle of a series of intense firefights and attacks which continued on a daily basis until their eventual withdrawal from the Amarah government compound four months later.

The Americans had now surrounded al-Sadr who was holed up in the Imam Ali Shrine in the holy city of Najaf where their attempts to break in had damaged some parts of the shrine. Shia anger was off the scale. Danny and his mates and all UK forces across the south of the country had to deal with the consequences. Fairweather gives a series of absolutely gripping, vivid, terrifying eye witness accounts of the running battles and firefights which followed.

The Prince of the Marshes, Abu Hatem, threw in his lot with the Sadrists. When the Brits made a raid to capture insurgents and took prisoners back to their prison, the detainees were subject to abuse and heard screams and torture sounds from other cells. When eventually released these stories helped recruit more insurgents and incentivise existing ones into a life or death struggle against the invader. Public relations catastrophe (p.123).

Escape to Afghanistan

In January 2004 the Hutton Inquiry into David Kelly’s death acquitted the government of blame and BBC Director General Greg Dyke resigned, but much of the media accused the report of being a whitewash. Fairweather quotes cabinet colleagues who noticed the impact the strain was having on Blair’s face. Hs hair started to turn grey.

In June 2004 a NATO conference decided the US-led mission had languished because of the focus on Iraq and volunteered NATO forces to take a more active role in Afghanistan. Why? Use it or lose it. NATO had big budgets from member countries who periodically wondered why they were spending so much. This would give the organisation the sense of purpose it needed.

In London Blair and his team saw it as an opportunity to regain the initiative. In Iraq we were not only visibly losing but being sidelined in every way imaginable by the Yanks. Deployment to Afghanistan offered the British Army a chance to redeem its damaged reputation and Tony Blair a way of restoring his reputation as an international statesman.

In fact the Americans had specifically asked the Brits to relocate NATO’s Allied Rapid Reaction Corps to the south of Iraq. It was crunch time. Fairweather describes the nitty gritty of discussions, with pros and cons on both sides. But the Brits decided to cut and run. Iraq was a swamp where the Americans disrespected us. Afghanistan offered a second chance. But could we fight a war on two fronts? The decisive view was given by director of operations at the Ministry of Defence, Lieutenant General Robert Fry. He argued that troop deployments to Afghanistan would be ramped up as troops in Iraq were drawn down. This was ratified by Chief of the Defence Staff Michael Walker. They’re the men to blame.

Fairweather gives a detailed analysis of the politics around successive Defence Reviews, with the Treasury constantly trying to cut the military budget and the top brass looking for any arguments to increase it. This in turn was meshed with the bitter rivalry between Blair the international grandstander and Gordon Brown, morosely hunkered down as Chancellor of the Exchequer. So another reason for the Afghan Adventure was entirely due to Whitehall politicis, in that the deployment forced a reluctant Treasury to release more money to the Ministry of Defence.

Chapter 13

Cut to a fascinating chapter about dismal attempts to train a new Iraqi police force, told through the eyes of Brit trainer William Kearney, 12 years in the Special Branch and now manager of ArmorGroup security, one of the many contractors who worked in Iraq. Compare and contrast with the American approach which was to flood the streets with poorly trained ‘police’ provided with uniforms, guns and ammunition which they quite regularly sold onto the insurgents.

We meet up again with Iraqi Haider Samad who is working for the Brits in Basra as an interpreter and the time he was beaten to the ground by four strangers who tell him next time they’ll kill him if he carries on working for the infidel. Haider’s experience is a peg to introduce the wider issue that many, many of the new ‘police’ being recruited at such speed in order to make Western politicians happy, were themselves members of the Shia militias.

Chapter 14

Introduction to the leader of Jaish al-Mahdi in Basra, Ahmed al-Fartosi, and his aim to utterly destroy the British occupation. He was convinced the Brits wanted to extend their occupation forever because their real aim was to steal Iraq’s oil. He had spent some time in exile in Lebanon and so on return to Basra reorganised the militia along the lines of the Iranian-backed Hezbollah. That said, Fartosi was no fan of the Iranians who had fought Iraqis in a bitter eight-year-long war. Half a million Iraqis died in that war and Iran came close to capturing Basra.

Another one of Fairweather’s gripping descriptions of a firefight which broke out on 9 August in Basra between British forces and the Shia militia led by Fartosi who ambushed a patrol forcing them to take refuge in nearby houses and call for backup etc.

Amara Fairweather cuts to the similar situation in Amara where sniper Mills and his buddies were included in the 150 or so coalition troops defending the Cimic House compound from daily attacks and hourly mortar bombs. After a particular intense firefight all the Iraqi cooks and ancillary staff leave, taking as much loot with them as they could carry. Fairweather then gives his version of the siege of Cimic House, the intense battle which forms the centrepiece of Mill’s book, Sniper One (pages 155 to 158).

Soon afterwards al-Sadr caved to majority Shia opinion and called off his insurgency. The far more influential cleric Grand Ayatollah Sistani had returned to the country, gone to Najaf and seen the damage to the shrine which he, and moderate Shia opinion, blamed on Sadr. Hence his climbdown.

Fairweather switches from his intense description of combat right up to the highest level of politics and the scheming by Iraqi exile Ayad Allawi to curry favour with the Americans and get himself appointed new president of Iraq. All the accounts I’ve read describe Allawi as a plausible swindler who promised Bush and Rumsfeld whatever they wanted to hear, thus materially aiding the misconceptions and lack of planning on which the invasion was launched.

Fairweather drolly explains that this plausible chancer was put on the payroll of MI6 and ‘supplied the British government with some of the most flagrantly misleading intelligence before the war, namely the completely bogus claim that Saddam could launch weapons of mass destruction in 45 minutes (p.131). This crook had Bush and Blair’s enthusiastic personal support.

In November the Americans launched the Second Battle of Fallujah with a view to exterminating Sunni insurgents and establishing the rule of law. The battle saw some of the heaviest urban combat the American army had been involved in since the ill-fated Battle of Hue City in Vietnam in 1968. 95 American and 4 British soldiers were killed, along with up to 2,000 ‘insurgents’. Over a fifth of the city was destroyed.

2005 election A general election for the interim Iraqi parliament was held on 30 January 2005. Sunni Muslims, despite being a minority in Iraq (64% Shia, 34% Sunni, 2% Christian and other) had historically held power. Saddam and his clique were Sunnis. Now, in protest against the battle of Fallujah and the perceived bias of the occupying force towards Shias, large numbers of Sunnis boycotted the elections. This was self-defeating as it gave sweeping victory to Shia parties backed by Grand Ayatollah Sistani. Allawi’s parties polled just 14%.

Both Americans and Brits now had to deal with an ‘elected’ Iraqi government dominated by Shias who, far from being grateful to their liberators, were deeply suspicious and resentful of them.

Chapter 16

Fairweather switches focus to a new location, the south of Afghanistan, giving us a potted history of Britain’s ill-fated military adventures here during the nineteenth century, notably the swingeing defeat at the Battle of Maiwand, 27 July 1880, heaviest defeat of a Western power by an Asian power until the prolonged Ottoman siege and massacre of the British at Kut in southern Iraq in the winter of 1915/16

Cut to 2004 as the British Army staff begin to plan a deployment to Afghanistan. Now that elections had taken place, British planners and politicians looked for a way to extract the army from Iraq. The task fell to Major general Jonathon Riley who adopted the formula of the Americans: as the Iraqi police force ‘stepped up’, the British forces would ‘step down’. Sounded good but conveniently ignored the fact that the so-called ‘police’ were very poor quality, corrupt if you were lucky, at worst – during many of the clashes of the Sadr Uprising – joining the insurgents in shooting at British troops. When the police were objective and reasonably independent, they were themselves liable to attack. In the first half of 2005 350 police officers were killed in attacks on police stations and recruiting centres.

We remeet the Brits handed the challenging job of training Iraqi police, namely William Kearney and Charlie MacCartney, police mentor of the Jamiat; SIS station chief Kevin Landers. Fairweather details the process whereby all these guys come to realise that the head of the Serious Crimes Unit (SCU) Captain Jaffar, was deeply in league with the insurgents. In fact the SCU was to become a growing bugbear in the Brits’ side, and establish itself as a centre of criminality and extortion against the civilian population.

Elections are all very well but the January 2005 ones put Sadr party members into Basra’s provincial council and into the governor’s seat. But the Brits didn’t want to stir up a hornet’s nest. They were now planning to withdraw all but 1,000 British troops from Iraq by end of 2005, with a view to redeploying them to Afghanistan at the start of 2006.

How did the Brits get deployed to Helmand, right next to the historic battlefield of Maiwand, home of the fiercest, most invader-resistant traditions in all Afghanistan? Well, remember the whole thing was a NATO operation. The Canadians had lobbied hard to have overall control of the deployment to south Afghanistan and called first dibs on the biggest town, Kandahar. Considering the alternatives, the Brits learned that Helmand Province had now become the biggest single source of heroin, which would please the army’s civilian master, Tony Blair. And it was also the historical homeland of the Taliban, so combatting them would also give political brownie points to Blair, keen to rehabilitate his ailing reputation.

Chapter 17

At this point Fairweather cuts away to catch up on the career of interpreter Haider who was now working for a private security firm. His boss was William Kearney who we’ve seen trying to train the Iraqi police. Haider has saved up enough money to propose to his childhood sweetheart, Nora, whose family previously banned the match due to his lack of money.

Chapter 18

Reg Keys’s son, Tom, was one of the six military policemen murdered by the mob at Majar al-Kabir police station in June 2003. Fairweather devotes some time to chronicling Keys’s campaign to get to the bottom of his son’s death but his increasing frustration with MoD prevarication. The army board of enquiry published its findings nine months later. The families of the dead were not invited to contribute or to attend. They asked for advance copies on the eve of publication but were refused. They were given just an hour to read the 90-page report ahead of a meeting with Defence Secretary Geoff Hoons. Despicable.

Arguably the limited and obviously parti pris ‘enquiries’ into the launching of the war, the David Kelly affair and the red caps’ deaths went a long way to discrediting the entire idea of a government enquiry.

The angered parents set up a support group, Military Families Against the War (p.253). But they went further and funded Keys to stand in Tony Blair’s constituency of Sedgemoor in the 2005 general election. Fairweather gives a characteristically thorough and fascinating description of how what started as a jokey suggestion over a coffee was turned into a serious political reality, giving us lots of information about the working of modern British political parties and the media.

Just before the election Channel 4 News leaked a March 2003 memo from Attorney General Peter Goldsmith giving his opinion that he didn’t think the case for war would stand up in a court of law. Only days later a soldier in Amarah was hit by a roadside bomb and killed. The war wouldn’t leave Tony Bair alone. You broke it; you own it.

In the general election Blair’s share of the vote went from 65 to 59% and Reg won 10%. Labour’s majority in the House of Commons was cut from 200 to 66 MPs. So not a defeat. In fact pollsters considered the Iraq war a minor issue. The economy was booming and lots of people didn’t care all that much (as, arguably, most sensible people don’t care about any form of politics).

(Page 197 quote from Ibn Saud, future king of Saudi Arabia, on the irredeemably rebellious nature of the Iraqi tribes who can only be governed by ‘strong measures and military force’.)

Chapter 19. Iran

Rocky relations between the Brits in Amarah tasked with patrolling the porous border with Iran, just 50k away, and the newly elected governor, Adel Muhoder al-Maliki. More descriptions of firefights and attacks the latest troop of British soldiers come under within minutes of leaving the heavily defended Amarah air base. The point is that the incredibly brave bomb disposal officer, Captain Simon Bratcher, not only neutralised a clutch of roadside bombs but provided the first evidence that they were being supplied by Iran.

The Shia government It’s all very well organising ‘free and fair elections’ until they end up voting in people you strongly disapprove of. Two months after the January 2005 elections, Ibrahim Jaafari, the leader of Dawa, one of the two main Shia parties, was announced as the next Iraqi Prime Minister. The Interior Ministry was handed to Bayan Jabr, a former commander of a Badr Brigade i.e. one of the main Shia militias. These men continued to further Iran’s influence at every level of the Iraqi administration. The Interior Ministry was said to have set up death squads to kidnap, torture and execute former Ba’ath Party members and Sunni leaders.

Jack Straw learns of an American plan to set up death squads to ‘take out’ leading Iranian agents working in Iraq militia leaders, but vetoes it (p.. (Did they go ahead anyway?) Straw’s objections were about not upsetting the Iranians at a difficult time of negotiations with the West about Iran’s nuclear power programme. But it’s one example among hundreds of how Iraqi politics became steadily more entangled with Iranian.

Fairweather makes an interesting point. Iranian policy in Iraq often seemed contradictory – at the same time supporting the Shia-led government but also backing anti-government militias. But why shouldn’t Iran be like Western countries, with conflicting parties and factions jostling for power and implementing different, sometimes conflicting strategies? Also: why not make it a conscious strategy to back different parties and factions while it was unclear who would win (p.204). In the end, of course, Iran won.

Chapter 20. Jamiat

This was the name of the police station in Basra which had become the focal point of corruption, extortion, kidnapping, torture and militia influence. Major Rupert Jones of the newly arrived 12 Mechanised Brigade decided to do something about it and asked for a list of possibly corrupt policemen. It became an uncomfortably long list. The Brits asked for them to be removed. Nothing happened. Then they asked for Fartosi to be arrested but learned that Fartosi had been put on a ‘no lift’ list because the prime Minister didn’t want to antagonise the Sadrists on whose support his government rested.

Kidnap of two SAS officers

Then three British soldiers were killed by roadside bombs and Brigadier John Lorimer, the eighth brigade commander in Basra in two years, decided to act. On 17 September an SAS detachment infiltrated Fartosi’s home and arrested him. Two days later two SAS officers on patrol were kidnapped. Fairweather describes in detail the complex standoff which then followed as several sets of British officials ascertained that the two soldiers had been taken to the notorious Jamiat police station. When British officials went to the station they were themselves promptly arrested and detained. Negotiations involved an Iraqi judge, and an increasing battery of coalition lawyers and officers. The negotiators were themselves hustled at gunpoint to the cells where the two soldiers were being kept, as fighting broke out at the front of the police station, with Iraqi police officers who the British had spent time and money training now opening fire on British forces. British relief forces were surrounded by angry crowds throwing bricks and a succession of Warrior vehicles were set on fire.

Sergeant Long escaping from his Warrior armoured vehicle after a petrol bomb was thrown down the gun turret (source: Reuters)

Eventually the SAS men and the other Brit hostages were rescued by an attack by SAS men who were brought all the way from the regiment’s HQ at Herefordshire to help them. The political fallout was threefold. 1) Pictures of George Long on fire escaping from his Warrior tank covered the front pages of British newspapers alongside articles claiming the British softly-softly police in Basra was a shambles. 2) More specifically, it revealed that the entire concept of training the Iraqi police force which politicians from Blair downwards had put such emphasis on, was in fact a sham. 3) The Shia governor, Muhammed al-Waeli, forced to take sides, came down on the side of his Shia constituency, accused the Brits of terrorism, led a tour of the now devastated police station, and declared he would never have anything to do with the Brits again.

Fairweather is outstanding at giving detailed forensic accounts of this kind of event (compare his description of the murder of the military police at Majar al-Kabir).

Chapter 21. Helmand

7/7 suicide bombers

On 7 July 2005 four British Muslims carrying backpacks full of explosives detonated them on London Underground trains and a bus. These were the first suicide bombs on British soil. They killed 52 and injured over 700. In a pre-recorded video one of the bombers described his motivation as revenge for all the innocent Muslims the British Army was killing in Iraq and Afghanistan. So much for our invasions of Iraq and Afghanistan making Britain safer. The exact opposite.

But when news came out that the men had been trained at terrorist training camps on the Pakistan-Afghan border, government spin doctors turned it into a justification for deploying British troops to Afghanistan.

In September 2005 Lieutenant General Rob Fry, the individual most responsible for the plan to deploy to Helmand, presented John Reid with the MoD’s plans to deploy 3,150 troops, mostly drawn from the Parachute Regiment. British forces would take over an American base named Camp Bastion in the desert north-west of the province’s capital, Lashkar Gah. He promised that Taliban fighters crossing from Pakistan would be easy to identify and eliminate. ‘The senior SIS men in the room rolled their eyes’ (p.225). Brigadier Ed Butler was chosen to command the force.

Fairweather shows the gulf between the top of the army (Fry and Chief of the General Staff Sir Mike Jackson) who assured sceptical politicians that it could be managed as long as the Brits withdrew their forces from southern Iraq at the same speed that they deployed them to Helmand – and many of the officers on the ground who thought it was madness. Defence Secretary John Reid was sceptical. ‘Won’t British troops be isolated and exposed?’ he asked (p.225). Fry assured him not. Reid was right. Fry was way wrong.

Split command

Right from the start it was ballsed up. The British formed part of a NATO force commanded by the Canadians. Because the Canadian force was being commanded by a brigadier, army etiquette demanded that Butler step aside to allow a more junior officer to command his men, and so Colonel Charlie Knaggs became commander of the British deployment. This meant Butler would have to oversee operations from Kabul. Then he discovered his headquarters would not be doing the operational planning but that a staff officer from army headquarters in Northwood would be drawing up the crucial operational plan.

Crucially, Butler would only have four Chinook helicopters at his disposal, barely enough to support one offensive mission a month and, it would prove, not nearly enough to extract British soldiers from the umpteen dangerous contact situations they were going to get into.

After the Jamiat police station siege, senior officers considered advising against the deployment, realising that the situation in south Iraq was far worse than previously understood, and would entail a much slower withdrawal than planned but they never made their opposition clear enough.

Sher Mohammed Akhundzada

Before the troops arrived the Brits made another mistake. UK ambassador to Kabul, Rosalind Marsden, persuaded president Hamid Karzai, to remove the province’s long-time governor, Sher Mohammed Akhundzada. He was notorious for rape, murder and involvement in the drugs trade, so getting rid of him played to press releases about Tony Blair’s counter narcotics policy. Unfortunately, Muhammed may have been a criminal but he was the only person with the contacts and authority to keep a lid on the province. Later, he cheerfully told British officers that, removed from his position of influence and no longer able to pay them, he let his 3,000-strong fighting force defect en masse to the Taliban. At a stroke the Brits made violent conflict inevitable and created a huge opposition force. The road to hell is paved with good intentions. That motto should be carved on Tony Blair’s tombstone.

Fairweather describes the efforts of the chief planner Gordon Messenger and development experts to assess the province, their dismay at the illiteracy and corruption of the Afghan administrators and police they met, and their equal dismay at the ignorance about Helmand displayed by British politicians and army staff. The politicians had assigned the army a three-year deployment. Development expert Minna Jarvenpaa said it would take ten years, probably longer, to begin to develop such a place (p.233). Politicians didn’t want to hear. No-one listened.

Details of the deployment were announced in January 2006, just in time for a conference of Afghan donors’ which Tony Blair was chairing. John Reid declared we were going to spend three years in the south of Afghanistan, bringing peace and security and helping the locals reconstruct their country. None of this was to happen.

Gil Baldwin, head of the Post Conflict Reconstruction Unit resigned in disgust, saying it beggared belief that Britain was preparing to go into Afghanistan even worse prepared then it had been for Iraq (p.234).

Chapter 22

Introduces us to the first soldiers to deploy to Afghanistan including Will Pike and Harvey Pynn of the Third Parachute regiment, 3 Para. This part of the narrative exactly matches the account of 3 Para’s time in Helmand (April to October 2006) given by Patrick Bishop in his rip-roaring soldier’s eye view of endless firefights in ‘3 Para’.

Fairweather repeats the surprising fact that, of the 3,500 British troops being deployed, all but 600 were support staff, engineers, cooks, drivers, quartermasters, ammunition handlers and so on. Governor Daoud wanted the Brits to deploy to protect towns in the north of the province from the Taliban. Butler was reluctant but agreed to support local Afghan army units. Development consultant Minna Jarvenpaa knew the tribal situation around Sangin was complicated with the town divided between two tribes, and both involved in rival drug operations.

In May 2006 Daoud sent the British commander, Charlie Knaggs, a desperate message that the district centre in the town of Naw Zad was being attacked by Taliban forces. A force of Paras is despatched, who were later replaced by Gurkhas. Soon Daoud was asking British troops to protect other towns and the Americans asked them to bolster the small force protecting the important Kajaki Dam. Step by step the Brits were forced into abandoning the initial plan of securing a relatively small area bounded by Camp Bastion, Geresh and Lashkar Gah in the south, and instead found their forces scattered thinly across half a dozen outposts which came under increasingly fierce attack.

Far from being a gentle peacekeeping and reconstruction exercise, the deployment was turning into a full scale war against the Taliban. Fairweather is brilliant at conveying the complex political cross-currents which led to the decisions, and the shambolic last-minute way they were carried out.

Will Pike led the deployment to the northern outpost of Sangin. As the Paras set about fortifying the district centre a delegation of town elders came and asked them to leave. They knew the Taliban would attack. They knew it would develop into a siege of attrition. They knew their town would be badly damaged. They were right on all three counts, but Pike had to turn them down. So much for listening to the locals, democracy etc. Instead of peace, the Brits brought war and destruction wherever they went.

Days later the Sangin district centre was hit, 3 killed 3 badly injured. If Butler had been in Camp Bastion maybe he’d have changed his mind but he was in Kabul where his job had evolved into trying to manage Governor Daoud and his master, Afghan president Karzai. So he overruled his junior officers’ concerns and the troops remained in Sangin in what developed into a relentless, daily barrage from the surrounding Taliban.

Already it was clear the critics had been right: a) the deployment to Afghanistan was too small; b) it had truckled to political pressure and spread its forces too thinly; c) it wasn’t going to be a peacekeeping deployment but a full-on conflict.

Chapter 23. Counterinsurgency in Iraq

Fairweather’s account of the revolution in military doctrine brought about by General David Petraeus who tries to re-orient the US Army approach from a ‘capture and kill the bad guys’ approach to a more imaginative deployment of counterinsurgency doctrine. The Americans referred to the British Army’s experience in the Malaya ’emergency’ i.e. how it handled an insurgency by revolutionary communist guerrillas. The main thing is to shift the goal from capturing or killing insurgents to winning over the general population by ensuring security. This shift in thinking is the central theme of Thomas E Ricks’s two books, Fiasco and The Gamble.

I believed all this until I read Frank Ledwidge’s devastating book, Losing Small Wars. There he points out two fundamental factors which the counterinsurgency proponents didn’t take into account. In Malaya, as later in Northern Ireland, a) there was one government whose fundamental legitimacy the majority of the population didn’t question; and there was b) an effective, impartial, well trained police force. Neither of these factors was present in Iraq or Afghanistan. On the contrary the ‘governments’ of both countries were deeply contested by large parts of the population, were widely seen as corrupt and parti pris; and the police forces in both countries were bywords for corruption and backsliding i.e. running away or turning their guns on their supposed Western allies whenever it came to a fight.

As the redeployment to Helmand began to be thought through, officers in Basra came under pressure to speed up the process of handing over responsibility to the Iraqi police and army. Only problem being, they were often corrupt and ineffective. Didn’t matter:

The army leadership was preparing to dispense with its commitment to create a competent Iraqi security force in the name of political expediency. (p.251)

Security in Basra was collapsing. The News of the World published a video of British soldiers beating detainees which triggered 48 rocket and mortars fired at the Abu Naji camp. Sectarian strife increased. A Sunni cleric was killed and new corpses turned up every day.

In January 2006 a further round of elections were held. Now, after weeks of horse trading, following the elections, Shia politician Nouri al-Maliki was finally appointed Prime Minister. He hated the British. British forces had arrested his grandfather in a 1920 Shia uprising. He saw the British presence as a continuation of its old imperial ambitions. On his first visit to Basra he told the British authorities he didn’t want to meet them.

Fairweather gives an illuminating account of the Ministry of Defence and army’s notorious problems with commissioning the right kit and equipment. While the army spent hundreds of millions on hi-tech, computerised gewgaws to fight the next world war, it neglected basic transport vehicles solid enough to resist improvised explosive devices.

Six month rotations ensured that just as each set of officers and men was coming to know the people and the job, it was rotated back to the UK and a completely new set came in. These were often led by a commanding officer determined to ignore everything his predecessor had done and implement his own pet theories. This was a recipe for inconsistency and incoherence. Fairweather cites the replacement of the bullish General Shireff with the scholarly General Jonathan Shaw in January 2007 (p.302).

He has an upsetting passage about post-traumatic stress disorder and the inadequate care the army takes of its psychiatrically damaged veterans. American studies suggest that 15% of veterans will suffer PTSD (p.256). The poor care for the physically wounded veterans at the Selly Oak hospital in Birmingham caused a scandal in the media (p.281). The scandal was to lead to the establishment of the extremely successful Help for Heroes charity (note, p.393).

The entire policy of withdrawing from south Iraq in order to redeploy to Afghanistan was thrown into doubt when the Brits handed over the main base in Muthanna province to the local security services then, a few days later, a crowd of several hundred assembled and stormed the base, the Iraqi security forces melting away as they were wont to do, whereupon the mob stripped the base of all the expensive equipment, looting all the arms and equipment the Americans had stocked it with. Farce (p.270).

In August British forces handed over Camp Abu Naji outside Amarah to local security forces. Within an hour word had spread, a few hours later a mob had assembled, and a few hours after that the crowd entered the base and comprehensively sacked and looted it. After spending £80 million trying to reconstruct the province the British were leaving it in the worst possible state. A ‘debacle’ and ‘fiasco’, the loss of Abu Naji brought the British army’s reputation among the Americans to a new low.

6 September 2006

The dreadful day when four Paras defending the Kajaki Dam in Helmand got caught in a minefield, one fatality, three terrible injuries and the heroism of Chinook pilot Mark Hammond who flew sorties not only to the dam, but to Sangin and Musa Qaleh, too (p.275). In fact it was only a week later that the elders of Musa Qaleh came to Butler and brokered a ceasefire deal between him and the Taliban. Both sides would withdraw and fighting would cease. An eerie quiet descended over the battletorn town which had been badly damaged during 6 months of fighting. The British talked about reconstruction but brought only destruction.

Meanwhile in Basra new commander, Genera Richard Shireff proposed a bold new plan of increasing his force and embarking on a policy of clearing the city neighbourhood by neighbourhood of the JAM, handing it over to Iraqi police to hold and then civilian experts to deliver high impact development projects. Of course none of this ever happened. He could never get enough British troops and the Iraqi police were useless. After some civilian contractors were killed Margaret Beckett ordered the entire DFID contingent to leave Basra Palace base and be evacuated to Kuwait.

Back to the story of Haider the interpreter. He has married his sweetheart, Nora, and had a baby. Now he is thunderstruck to be told by his sympathetic boss, William Kearney, that the security firm is pulling out of Basra. Haider is going to lose his job and become more exposed to the JAM thugs who want to kill him for working with the infidel.

Chapter 28 The Surge, 2007

General Petraeus and retired general Jack Keane lobbied and persuaded president Bush not to quit and withdraw from a ruined Iraq but to take a gamble and increase troop numbers, by 30,000, the famous ‘surge’. General Casey was replaced by Petraeus as commander in chief.

The so-called Surge coincided with the so-called Sunni Awakening which was when Sunni tribes finally sickened of being threatened and dominated by al Qaeda militias. Delicate negotiations persuaded many Sunni tribes to accept American money and support to take on the terrorist group.

Baghdad had now become the epicentre of the civil war between Sunni and Shia, with mass ethnic cleansing, 200 deaths a week, and concrete walls separating ethnic neighbourhoods. Fairweather mentions the role of British civilian and pacifist Emma Sky as an unlikely adviser to hulking American general Ray Ordieno (pages 292 to 296).

Detailed description of the negotiations initiated by British General Graeme Lamb and James Simonds to convert Sunni militia leader Abu Azzam over to the Coalition side, with a mixture of flattery, promises of jobs and money for his 1,000-strong militia. The central achievement of Emma Sky in making friends with a female member of Maliki’s cabinet, Basima al-Jadiri and from then onwards keeping lines of communication open between the coalition commander and stroppy Maliki (p.298).

The Brits had been working through the latter half of 2006 towards finally withdrawing from Basra, deceiving themselves about the readiness of the Iraqi security forces to take over, or that Shireff’s policy of clearing neighbourhoods was working. But just as the withdrawal began to be implemented the Americans were embarking on the exact opposite policy, bringing in more troops as part of their Surge. In this context British policy looked more than ever like running away.

The British were under pressure to look tough and so undertook daring missions, including seizing Jaish al-Mahdi leaders. At the same time they sought interlocutors to negotiate a peace with. Most important was to be the leader of Jaish al-Mahdi in Basra, Ahmed al-Fartosi, who they had arrested and imprisoned three years before, and whose arrest led to the reprisal kidnapping of the two SAS men.

The British made him a simple offer: call off militia attacks and in return the British would cease patrolling the city and release his imprisoned cadres on cohorts. The clincher was telling Fartosi he had to take the deal in order to get his men freed and enrolled in the security services before Iranian agents and politicians took over. Fartosi was Shia, fanatical Shia, he had taken money and arms from Iran – but drew the line at letting Iran take over his patch.

These are the kinds of subtleties or complexities created by ethnic, religious, tribal, warlord and gangland allegiances which the coalition failed to get to terms with. Emma Sky is described trying to persuade Ray Ordieno that he needed to stop lumping all opposition groups as al Qaeda or Ba’athists or ‘insurgents’ and learn to distinguish between them. Only then could the coalition figure out what they wanted and even start to find negotiated, political solutions to the chaos.

June 2007

Gordon Brown became Prime Minister after Tony Blair stepped down as Labour Party leader. According to Fairweather everyone in Whitehall and the military knew that Brown regarded Iraq as Blair’s folly and had no interest in throwing good money after bad. He wanted all British troops withdrawn as soon as reasonably possible. As always, politics. When the army staff told Brown cutting and running would infuriate the Americans Brown said ‘good’. In Britain, and further afield (in the European countries which were always against the war) it would draw a stark line between Brown and his predecessor, and win him kudos for standing up to the Yanks. Army planners at the British military command centre in Northwood drew up five withdrawal scenarios. Brown unhesitatingly chose the quickest (p.315).

Some top brass thought a rapid withdrawal would make the British public question the sacrifice made so far. But in the three months during which Blair had extended the British occupation to mollify the Americans, 11 more British soldiers had been killed. The opposite line was that the British had fought shoulder to shoulder with the Americans for four bloody years and enough was enough.

The Brits released Fartosi’s deputy, other detainees and complied with their side of the bargain to halt all patrols in Basra. However violent attacks continued, with relentless bombarding of the British HQ in Basra Palace. American command in Baghdad gave the British senior officers who came to explain their withdrawal timetable short shrift. As the Brits claimed that Basra’s police force was ready to enforce security, American officers laughed.

In August 2007 the deal with Fartosi began and he was given a small office in the the base prison complete with phone and fax machine. From here he organised a complete ceasefire and an uneasy calm fell over Basra. On 3 September the British commander handed over security governance to the Iraqi government general assigned the job, and 600 soldiers left Basra Palace in a convoy of Warriors, armoured cars, lorries piled high with office furniture. They drove the ten miles to Basra airport. The idea is a residual force would stay there for up to a year to continue to train Iraqi army and police force. The JAM militia held wild celebrations at the ‘liberation’ of their city.

Story of Haider the interpreter, continued

Since the start of the year a number of interpreters had been executed by the militias. Terrifying story of him attending his brother-in-law’s wedding procession of twenty or so cars when it was intercepted by trucks with no plates, armed men leapt out, ran across to the car which contained Haider and his wife but grabbed Nora’s cousin by mistake, hauled him out of the car, threw him in the trucks, and roared off while the women screamed and wept. Next day the cousin’s corpse is found with a scrap of paper telling Haider to ring a mobile phone number. Haider’s wife’s uncle, Ali, arranges for him to flee to Iran with a fake passport and a little money. Then the militiamen kidnap Ali and call Haider, saying he must return or Ali will be murdered.

Haider makes a plan, to return to Basra, collect his family and go to the British base. Gordon Brown had announced a fast track visa process for Iraqi interpreters. He takes a minivan cab and collects his wife, mother, sister and three brothers but when they get to the British base, security won’t let them through.

Anyway, it turns into a real odyssey. They walk to a gas station where an old geezer has a taxi. Haider tells them they’re refugees and the old guy takes them home and lets them sleep in his apartment. But next morning he starts getting suspicious. Haider’s contact inside the British base tells him the precise paperwork he needs, but it involves getting an old style Iraqi passport which will take ages.

Haider has a brainwave and rings up a doctor he knew at medical school. Reluctantly, the doctor agrees to house them all in a spare room in his clinic, knowing he’s risking reprisals from the militia. Haider has a phone so he rings his old boss and friend William Kearney. Kearney jumps into action ringing round contacts to get Haider’s paperwork approved asap. He commissions a journalist to write a piece about the plight of interpreters and he even – and at this point we start to realise why we’ve been hearing so much about this poor man – arranges for Haider to do an interview with Radio 4’s Today programme, from the spare room at the clinic where he’s in hiding. Atmosphere of Anne Frank’s loft. Every time they heard footsteps in the corridor they froze in fear.

There are more hurdles to jump through, judges to be bribed, paperwork to be secured, relations pressed into running round the city getting the right documents. After a week they take another cab to the British base but Haider is now told that his brothers and sister aren’t eligible. He loses his rag.

When the British had needed him he had risked his life, but when he needed their help all he got was red tape. (p.326)

And now, 16 years later, the same treatment dished out to Afghan interpreters fleeing the Taliban. What a disgraceful, disgusting country Britain is.

Abandoning Basra

So the British abandoned Basra and the Shia militia took over, quickly intimidating the Iraqi police into staying in their stations, while black hooded armed men patrolled the streets, hitting women who weren’t properly covered and embarking on a campaign of murder and extortion. The Iraqi Way. A British officer, Colonel Andy Bristow, helps the new Iraqi governor of Basra, General Mohan al-Faraji, but quickly realises the deal with Fartosi to allow us to leave in peace, effectively undermined the police i.e. bankrupted the whole reason for us being there in the first place. When Mohan found out the British had gone behind his back to do a deal with the head of the militia to release back onto the streets over 1,000 criminal detainees, he was apoplectic.

It was just the sort of double-dealing the British were infamous for during their colonial days. (p.330)

On 31 December 2007 Fartosi himself was finally released from prison and within days (January 2008) war broke out between Jaish al-Mahdi and Mohan’s police force. The British base itself came under sustained mortar attack. The deal with Fartosi had failed. Not only that but the situation in Helmand was deteriorating, Ceasefires with local Taliban commanders had failed and the fighting was fiercer than ever. The army desperately needed to move its Basra forces to Helmand.

Fairweather then gives a typically detailed account of the way the new advisor to General Mohan, the Brit Colonel Richard Iron, conceives a plan to deliver a US-style surge but just to Basra. As mentor to Mohan he is outside the British chain of command and so a) gets Mohan to present it as a request to the Basra commander, something the Brits are meant to help with, b) schmoozes with the Americans in Baghdad who love it. Petraeus is won over and the Yanks begin making plans to send troops to help the meagre British presence from the air base.

BUT. At one of these co-ordination meetings everyone is stunned to learn that Prime Minister Nouri al-Malaki, having been briefed about it some weeks before, has taken the bull by the horns, and ordered his own surge in Basra, using native Iraqi troops!

Long story short: the Iraqi army took on the Jaish al-Mahdi in Basra and won! Over 6,000 Iraqi troops marched on Basra and Maliki himself flew in to supervise. To begin with it was chaos, with Iraqi units disintegrating or being blown to pieces by the heavily armed and motivated JAMsters. But the Americans couldn’t allow this to fail and so diverted troops and planes south to join the fight. The British administrator on the ground was humiliatingly denied entrance to meetings between Maliki and the American commander in chief. Maliki blamed the British for letting Basra sink to this level. The American military no longer trusted the Brits to do anything. Anyway, bureaucracy and reluctance to overturn the withdrawal plans meant only a handful of British officers were available. The Iraqis and Americans got on without them. National embarrassment. Humiliation.

Meanwhile Mohan was sacked and a new Iraqi commander put in place. American General Flynn told British brigade headquarters he’d flown in to stop the Brits failing again. Fairweather calls it ‘a damning indictment’ and laments ‘Britain’s battered reputation’. The senior British officers hung their heads in shame (p.337).

Then, to everyone’s surprise, there was a ceasefire. Unknown to the Brits or Yanks Maliki had sent delegations to the Iranian city of Qom to ask al-Sadr and the commander of the Iranian al-Quds Force to broker a ceasefire. Maliki knew that the Iranians had a vested interest in seeing him re-elected, as a moderate Shia Prime Minister, whereas defeat in Basra risked plunging the south into chaos and also triggering a resurgence of Sunni resistance. On balance it was in Iranian interests to rein in their proxies. So The message came back to Fartosi to cease fire. The guns fell silent. The Jaish al-Mahdi forces disappeared. Fartosi and other notorious leaders left Iraq altogether.

A few days later Iraqi forces occupied all the Jaish al-Mahdi strongholds. The insurgency in Basra was over and it had nothing to do with the Brits or the Americans but backroom deals between Middle Eastern players. In an ironic way it was a triumph because it showed that normal Middle Eastern politics, with all its corruption and sectarian horsetrading, had been restored.

But there was nothing the British C-in-C, Brigadier Julian Free, could do ‘to restore American faith in British competence’ (p.339).

Epilogue: summer 2011

In Fairweather’s view the retaking of Basra was a watershed. The Iraqi army then retook Amara (where Sergeant Danny Mills and his sniper platoon had such a torrid time in 2006) and routed Jaish al-Mahdi from Baghdad.

In the January 2009 provincial elections Maliki’s party defeated Sadrist politicians (i.e. politicians loyal to Muqtada al-Sadr). Maybe it was even some kind of democracy. A very corrupt form of democracy, Iraq sits on the fourth largest oil reserves in the world. Fortunes are made by politicians with fingers in the pie. Leaked documents and other evidence show the Iraqi police force settling back into old Saddam methods of arbitrary arrest and gruesome torture.

In Iraq’s March 2010 elections the slippery old chancer Ayad Allawi won the popular vote, with the backing of Saudi Arabia, because he is a Sunni Muslim. (On a simple geopolitical level, Iraqi politics are riddled with the rivalry between Sunni Saudi Arabia to the south and Shia Iran to the east). However, in the backroom horsetrading Iran leaned on Muqtada al-Sadr to get his supporters to support Maliki who therefore re-emerged as Prime Minister in November 2010 (serving till 2014).

Through the summer of 2009 the British troops left Basra airbase. In total more than 120,000 British soldiers served in Iraq. As many as 15% of them might be expected to suffer mental illness as a consequence i.e. 18,000. 179 British personnel died, 5,970 were injured. Best guesses are that in the region of 100,000 Iraqis lost their lives.

Fairweather’s figures are that the war cost roughly £1 billion a year, total about £8 billion. Fairweather injects a political note (remember he wrote for the Daily Telegraph, what is now a very right-wing newspaper):

As schools go unbuilt in the UK, hospitals close, and tens of thousands of teachers, nurses, soldiers and policemen lose their jobs, the Iraq war has become a symbol of the profligacy and waste of the New Labour government. (p.344)

As to Afghanistan, in 2009 the Americans were forced to intervene as the British, yet again, lost control of the situation, sending a surge of 30,000 US troops to retake the province from the resurgent Taliban. The economy is still dirt poor. And there is no educated middle class to provide administrators and politicians.

As of summer 2011, 374 British service personnel had died in Helmand, 1,608 had been injured, 493 seriously. More than 10,000 Afghans had died. Gordon Brown estimated the war cost Britain £10 billion.

And Haider the interpreter, the Iraqi who Fairweather uses as a kind of barometer of Britain’s failing efforts in Basra? At the time of writing he lived in Hull, in accommodation provided by the British government, with his wife and two children. He’d like to return to Iraq but is still scared to.

The blame

As you’d expect, Fairweather holds Tony Blair chiefly to account for committing Britain to two wars it couldn’t win – but he’s harsher on the army. Senior generals gave consistently poor advice and the army as a whole was guilty of institutional failings, most importantly it’s continually over-optimistic predictions, its wrong assessments of the situation in both Iraq and Afghanistan, its insistence it could carry out both deployments with what quickly became clear were inadequate men and resources. In both places they ignored the well-informed warnings of experts in the field.

Most tellingly, senior officials at the MoD and armed services have come to see war as a way of maintaining their budgets. Fairweather wonders if the fact that this is the only way the MoD can secure adequate funding explains why Britain’s armed forces have been in conflict almost continuously for the past 15 years.

Short-termism. All kinds of delusions led planners to think a 3-year deployment to Helmand would be enough. The average length of a counter-insurgency campaign is 14 years. Proper state building takes even longer. Either commit, or don’t intervene.

Summary

This is an outstanding chronological history of Britain’s deployment to Iraq and Afghanistan. Fairweather not only explains the complex political and financial realities at work in the British government and the fraught relationship with our American ‘allies’, but switches scene and focus with extraordinary confidence.

He gives what must surely be definitive accounts of specific firefights and battles (his 5 pages describing the murder of the six military police is exemplary) but he is just as confident describing conversations between the top power players, be they Yanks like Rumsfeld, Rice and Bremer, or Brits like Blair, Brown and Campbell.

And his narrative introduces us to an extraordinarily wide range of named individuals through whose stories and eyes we get really insider insights into every aspect of the situation, from Brits appalled at decisions in Whitehall or the chaos of the CPA, through the civilian governors struggling to control their provinces, to the experiences of scores of officers and men involved in fierce firefights on the ground.

It’s a panoramic, encyclopedic account. It really is outstanding.


P.S. A study in ignorance

Seen from another angle, this excellent book a study in several types of stupidity and ignorance.

The obvious, easy-to-see kind of ignorance, is how everyone involved in the planning and implementation of the quick invasion of Iraq in March 2003 and then the painfully slow, ineffective ‘reconstruction’ of the ruined country, had poor-to-zero grasp of the reality of Iraqi society, politics and culture. That was obvious to anyone with a brain before the war started, and became obvious to people without a brain, eventually even to the American neoconservatives who had planned and launched the war, as the years went by and their efforts became evermore expensive and futile.

The less obvious kind of ignorance is a fundamental premise of this blog and my worldview, which is that we don’t understand our own society or our selves. In his 2015 book, ‘The Soul of the Marionette’, John Gray explains that there will never be true artificial intelligence because nobody understands what human intelligence is. Sure, we can define and measure numerous aspects of intelligence like solving complex maths problems or winning at chess, but the full package of what makes a human being human, the complex interplay of calculation, hunch, guesswork, emotion and intuition – nobody understands it, how it works, let alone how it is produced by the brain.

So if we don’t understand what intelligence is, how can we artificially create it? We may be able to produce computer programs which solve problems faster than any human, and are able to teach themselves better and better techniques etc, and can answer any question plausibly, but it will never be anything like human intelligence, and those who think so are fools.

Same with democracy. Simpletons like George W Bush and Tony Blair thought all you had to do was overthrow a dictator and organise some cobbled-together elections, and you’d have yourself a functioning democracy. What this imbecile level of naivety shows is not so much that neither of them had a clue about Arab or Muslim societies, and about Iraq in particular (which they didn’t, and which this book demonstrates at humiliating and embarrassing length) – what it showed is they hadn’t a clue about how our own democratic societies work.

1. The civic basis of democracy

They didn’t have a clue about their own political evolution: about the very long history, the centuries-long evolution, through trial and error and revolutions and civil wars, and the taming of religion and the controlling of aristocracies and oligarchies, and the campaigns of working class parties and trade unions and then the long struggle for women’s suffrage – which lie behind the present form of the far-from-perfect, so-called ‘democracies’ which operate in the USA and UK.

2. The Christian basis of democracy

And that’s without going into the huge part of the story derived from religion: the slow evolution of Christianity with its emphasis on the value of the individual, through the overthrow of Catholic ideology at the Reformation, and the Protestant Revolution which ushered in new ideas about the individual, about individual agency, responsibility, rights and duties, which had to be painfully thrashed out during centuries of civil war and political turmoil, the overthrow of kings, the grudging allowance of limited forms of religious tolerance in Britain the late 17th century, which struggled against the odds throughout the 18th and inspired the American revolutionaries to their clear statement of principles in the American constitution. There’s no evidence of this kind of huge, conceptual, long-term evolution taking place in the political-religious ideology of modern Islam. The opposite: reactionary forms of Islam have been on the rise throughout the Middle East since the Iranian revolution of 1979.

3. The economic basis of democracy

And all that is without going into the economic history which lies behind our democratic societies, whose development paralleled the political, religious and philosophical strands. Modern progressives are keen to attribute the rise of the West to ruthless exploitation, to the profits from the Atlantic slave trade and the rapacity of European imperialism. The older, traditional school of history attributed ‘the rise of the West’ to a huge range of intellectual inventions, from the establishment of the Bank of England and a national debt, through the invention of copyright and business law which created incentives for innovators and inventors, to the inventors themselves who devised the seed drill or the steam engine among thousands of other world-changing technologies (ideas handily summarised in Niall Ferguson’s Civilization: The West and the Rest).

However you combine these and other elements to explain ‘the Rise of the West’, there’s no denying that Britain, most of the other European nations, and then America and Japan, represent a level of legal, social and technological achievement which far outranks the other 180 or so nations on earth.

Neo-con delusions

Now do you get a sense of the depth of the ignorance of the American neo-cons and their poodle, Tony? They thought overthrowing a dictator and getting his dazed population to line up at voting booths would be it, job done, creation of ‘democracy’. They thought creating an unstable government and holding a few phoney elections amounted to ‘nation building’ and stood any chance at all of transforming Iraq in a few short months into a beacon of peace, plenty and democracy for the rest of the Middle East to follow.

That’s what George Bush, Dick Cheney, Donald Rumsfeld, Douglas Feith and their supporters thought would happen. Surely the word ‘imbecile’ isn’t forceful enough to describe this level of fatuous ignorance – not only about what Iraqi society was like, but about what makes their own country tick – about what makes the 20 or so developed western nations what they are, and why this unique religious, philosophical, legal, cultural, social, economic and technological history can’t just be bundled up into vacuum packs, flown into a developing country in the holds of Hercules transport planes and handed out to cheering crowds like bottled water. What morons!


Credit

A War of Choice: Honour, Hubris and Sacrifice: The British in Iraq by Jack Fairweather was published by Jonathan Cape in 2012. References are to the 2012 paperback edition.

Related links

New world disorder reviews

Losing Small Wars: British Military Failure in the 9/11 Wars by Frank Ledwidge (second edition, 2017)

‘You have the watches, but we have the time.’
(Taliban saying, possibly apocryphal, page 93)

Summary

This is a quite mind-blowing, jaw-dropping analysis of the incompetence, ignorance, narrow-mindedness, bad planning, profligacy, bureaucratic in-fighting, politicking, terrible leadership, lack of strategy, appalling mismanagement and ineptitude which characterised the British Army campaigns in Iraq (2003 to 2009) and Afghanistan (2004 to 2014). For the rest of my life, when I hear the words ‘British Army’ on the radio or telly or in movies, I’ll think of this devastating exposé and hang my head in shame and embarrassment.

All of the UK’s recent conflicts – Iraq, Afghanistan and Libya – have been total failures in spite of the efforts of our men and women…None of these conflicts has resulted in anything remotely resembling success. All have failed, and failed not badly, but catastrophically.

[Haven’t] the years of involvement in the post 9/11 wars [been], excepting the two world wars, the most expensive and least successful decade and a half in British military history?

The bulk of the responsibility for them [the failure] must be laid at the doors of our politicians who have little idea of conflict and consequences and no experience thereof…However, if Iraq in 2003 was Blair’s war the generals were complicit not only in its inception but also in its failure.

This book sets out to be one man’s reasonably well-informed view of why our forces, and our army in particular, have performed so badly in recent operations.

This isn’t a history of the British army campaigns in Iraq and Afghanistan so much as a sustained 250-page analysis of why they went so very, very, very wrong. Extremely wrong. Mind-bogglingly wrong. In the introduction Ledwidge writes that he is ‘calling the high command of the armed forces to account for what I regard as nothing less than a dereliction of duty‘ (p.11) and he proceeds to flay politicians, civil servants, advisers and senior military figures with a cat o’ nine tails.

Then, in the longer second half of the book, Ledwidge analyses half a dozen major themes which emerge from the failed wars (the real nature of counterinsurgency, the changing face of military intelligence, the need for a more self-critical and reflective culture in the army) and suggests practical reforms to create an army fit for 21st century combat.

Ledwidge’s qualifications

Ledwidge is formidably well qualified to discuss the issues. He has had an impressively wide ranging career both in and outside the military, and served in all the countries under discussion.

Ledwidge began his career as a lawyer. After qualifying, he spent eight years practising as a criminal barrister in his home city of Liverpool. He then worked for a decade in the Balkans and throughout the former Soviet Union in international human rights protection, criminal law reform, and institution building at the highest levels of government. He developed particular expertise in missing persons, human trafficking and torture prevention.

Ledwidge explains in the introduction that he fancied diversifying and volunteered to join the Royal Naval Reserve, learning navigation and seamanship on minesweepers in the North Sea. He was commissioned in 1993 and went on to serve for fifteen years as a reserve officer with extensive operational experience, retiring as head of the Human Intelligence branch (p.267).

In 1996 he went to Bosnia to serve alongside the military in a team tasked with identifying and tracking down war criminals. In 1998 he moved on to Kosovo as part of a military/civilian peacekeeping unit and was there during the actual war, 1998 to 1999. After the Balkans he served with the Organisation for Security and Co-operation in Europe, in states of the former Soviet Union, mostly Tajikistan.

In 2003 he was called back into regular military service and sent to Basra, in southern Iraq, leading one of the teams of the Iraq Survey Group, tasked with finding the mythical weapons of mass destruction. In 2007 to 08 he served as the first ‘Justice Advisor’ to the UK Mission in Helmand Province.

In 2009 he retired as a military officer. During and after the war in Libya (2011 to 2012) he performed a similar role at the UK Embassy in Libya. (He has also worked in Ukraine during the current war, a period obviously not covered in this book.)

Nowadays Ledwidge is an academic, a senior lecturer at the University of Portsmouth. He is the author of this and a number of other books about contemporary warfare, and regularly appears on the media as an expert.

The first three chapters of the book deal with 1) Iraq 2) Afghanistan and 3) Libya. They aren’t detailed histories of events such as you find in Jack Fairweather’s and numerous other chronicles. They cover just enough of the events to raise the issues and themes which he then addresses in the second, analytical, half of the book.

There are no maps. Shame. Obviously you can look it all up online, still… And it’s poorly copy-edited. Ledgewick repeats adjectives or adverbs in the same sentence. At one point he lists the countries involved in the Syrian conflict and includes Russia twice in the same list. Should have been better edited.

1. Basra

In the invasion of Iraq in March 2003 the Brits were assigned to take Basra, the second city of Iraq, close to the Gulf of Persia, sitting astride the Shatt al-Arab waterway which is formed from the junction of the rivers Tigris and Euphrates, and only 50k from the border with Iran. At one point he likens old Basra to cosmopolitan seaports like Liverpool or Marseilles (p.16). But the Islamic revolution in Iran, followed by 8 years of the Iran-Iraq War, followed by Saddam’s ill-fated invasion of Kuwait, followed by ten years of Western sanctions had made it a harder, poorer, bitterer place to live and brought out a fanatical strain in many of the mostly Shia Muslim population.

Once the invasion was complete the British Army was given responsibility for the occupation of Basra and the four southern provinces around it (Basra, Maysan, Al Muthanna and Nasariyah), the heartland of Iraq’s Shia community. However, almost immediately the city was taken it became clear that British politicians, the Ministry of Defence, the General Staff and senior planners had no idea what to do next:

‘It became very apparent to me shortly after crossing the border that the government and many of my superiors had no idea what they were doing.’ (Colonel Tim Collins, p.20)

‘There was no strategic planning or direction at all beyond the military invasion. There was no articulated strategic context nor end state. There was no campaign plan.’ (Major General Albert Whitley, adviser to the US commanding general)

‘[There was a] lack of any real understanding of the state of the country post-invasion. We had not done enough research, planning into how the country worked post-sanctions…None of this had been really thought through.’ (General Sir Freddie Viggers)

Numbers

In Kosovo NATO forces were able to secure order because they had the numbers to do so. In Basra and south Iraq British forces never had anything like enough boots on the ground to make society to secure, to ensure law and order. They lost control of the streets in the first few days when looters ran rampant, criminal gangs flourished, random street crime became endemic – and never recovered it.

The lack of any thought whatsoever as to how the army might deal with looters was to have disastrous consequences. (p.24)

George Bush and Tony Blair made speeches promising the Iraqis reconstruction of their country, peace and prosperity, a flourishing economy and democratic accountability. None of this was delivered and it turned out the invaders couldn’t even make the streets safe. Carjackings, kidnappings, rape, gang violence all flourished out of control within weeks.

More than any other factor, the restoration and maintenance of order requires numbers. (p.24)

On 26 June politicians and generals were woken from their dreams when six military policemen were killed in the town of Majar al-Kabir, due to failures of communication, malfunctioning equipment etc. The real point was that the town, and the whole area, had a proud tradition of resisting invaders including Saddam Hussein’s own security forces, something which the British forces simply didn’t know about or understand (p.27).

Ledwidge arrived in September 2003 after the first honeymoon was over. British soldiers no longer wandered the streets in soft hats, stopping off at cafes. They were coming under increasingly sustained attacks: roadside bombs, ambushes, snipers.

Meanwhile Shia death squads emerged, assassinating former members of Saddam’s regime, terrorising Sunni Muslims into leaving entire areas under threat of death (i.e. ethnic cleansing à la Bosnia), kidnapping, torturing and murdering any possible opponents, and imposing a strict Puritan religious orthodoxy on the street (mostly against women) (p.31).

Instead of addressing any of this, British forces had enough on their plate simply defending themselves. In fact this became their main aim. Ledwidge says his utterly fruitless efforts leading a team looking for WMDs crystallised the way the occupying forces were interested entirely in their own concerns and didn’t give a monkeys about the million Basrawis whose city was turning into hell.

The Geneva conventions

Is an invading or conquering army responsible for securing law and order? Emphatically yes. It is a fundamental principle of the Geneva Conventions. Apparently Colin Powell summed this up to George Bush as ‘You broke it, you own it.’ None of the invading forces acted on this legal basis. Donald Rumsfeld joked about the widespread looting days after the invasion, apparently unaware that the coalition forces had an internationally binding legal duty to prevent it.

For a year after the invasion Shia militias, backed by Iran, took control of the streets. In an example of their complete lack of understanding, the British project for training new corps of Iraqi police ended up recruiting many of these militias who then, wearing uniforms supplied by British taxpayers and wielding guns paid for British taxpayers, set about terrorising, extorting, raping and killing Basrawi citizens – who then wondered why their British occupiers were allying with murderers. The British hoped that they were ‘incorporating’ the militias into a new police force. Instead they were legitimising the militias (pages 35 to 36).

Rotations and reconstruction

The British Army had a policy of rotating units home every 6 months. The army saying has it that you spend the first two months learning the job, the next two months doing it capably enough, and the last two months hanging on and not getting injured, before rotating home for ‘tea and medals’.

This system guaranteed that just as any particular brigades or battalion and their senior officers was about to get an inkling of how local society functioned, had made important contacts and were building trust, they were abruptly whisked away. The system guaranteed a lack of continuity or consistency and prevented any kind of long-term planning.

Instead new brigades came in with senior officers determined to make a ‘splash’. Often they worked out one significant or ‘signature’ offensive, carried it out – some pointless firefight resulting in a hundred or so dead enemy militants and swathes of civilian homes and properties destroyed – then hunkered back down in their base till rotated home and a medal for the commander-in-chief. (p.90)

This happened every six months as the actual city the British were meant to be policing slipped further and further into Shia militia control.

Jaish al-Mahdi

The biggest Shia militia was the Jaish al-Mahdi (JAM), loyal to the figure who emerged as the head of militant Shiism, Muqtada al-Sadr. To cut a long story short, despite the British Army’s best efforts, the JAM ended up taking over Basra.

By the end of 2006, control of the city had essentially been lost to the Shi’a armed groups. In September 2006 Basra was to all intents and purposes the domain of one of them – the Jaish al-Mahdi (JAM), the military wing of the Office of the Martyr Sadr (OMS). (p.39)

Attacks on British outposts intensified until by 2006 they were on a war footing. Given the complete collapse in security on their watch, absolutely no reconstruction of any type took place. The rubbish piled up in the streets, many of which were open sewers, electricity was rare and erratic, water supplies were unsafe, bombed schools remained in ruins. Nothing.

‘Basra was a political and military defeat.’ (Commodore Steven Jermy, p.40)

‘I don’t know how you could see the British withdrawal from Basra in 2007 in any other light than as a defeat.’ (Colonel Peter Mansoor, p.41)

Operation Sinbad

In September 2006 the British launched Operation Sinbad which aimed to take on the most corrupt ‘police’ stations and clear them out. Some measure of clear-out was achieved, at the cost of ferocious firefights, but as soon as the operation ended in February 2007, the Shia militias and gangs returned.

On the same day the operation ended, 18 February 2007, Tony Blair announced a major ‘drawdown’ of troops in Basra, from 7,000 to 4,000. Many of the officers Ledwidge quotes consider this the moment of defeat. It signalled to friend and foe alike that the British were giving up and running away.

Withdrawal

The incoming commander, General Jonathan Shaw, decided to withdraw the British garrison in Basra Palace to the heavily fortified allied airfield 10 miles outside of town. It was dressed up in fancy terminology, but it was giving up. The British did a deal with JAM whereby they notified the militants whenever they were going to exit the airbase and were only allowed to patrol Basra with the JAM’s permission. British rule in Basra had produced:

‘the systematic abuse of official institutions, political assassinations, tribal vendettas, neighbourhood vigilantism and enforcement of [Islamic] social mores, together with the rise of criminal mafias.’ (Middle Eastern Report number 67, 25 June 2007)

‘The short version is that the Brits have lost Basra, if indeed they ever had it…’ (US officer close to General Petraeus)

‘The military’s failure to provide a safe environment for the local population represented a strategic failure for the UK in Iraq.’ (James K. Wither, author of Small Wars and Insurgencies)

In defence of the British position are the arguments that: a) British occupation couldn’t go on forever b) the political and popular will back in Britain had turned against a demonstrable failure; but most of all c) it was felt that it was time for the Iraqi government to step up to the plate and take responsibility for security in its second city. So Basra was ‘formally’ handed over to the Iraqi government in December 2007. But the Iraqi government didn’t have the wherewithal i.e. army or neutral and functioning police force, to retake it.

There was a fourth reason British troops were drawn down in 2008. The politicians and generals both wanted to refocus their efforts on Afghanistan. This was:

  1. a desert war i.e not mired in heavily populated cities
  2. a ‘good’ and moral war i.e. against a defined enemy, the Taliban
  3. offered the British Army the opportunity to redeem itself in the sceptical eyes of the Americans (stated in so many words by General Sir Richard Dannatt, p.62)

More sinisterly, 4) some officers are quoted to the effect that the general staff needed to find something for the battalions coming free in Iraq to do in order to justify the military budget. ‘Use them or lose them’ was the motto.

And so the British campaign in Afghanistan was motivated, at bottom, by not just domestic British politics (Blair’s ongoing wish to suck up to Bush), but Whitehall bickering about the Ministry of Defence’s budget. Well, a lot of British soldiers, and thousands of Afghans, were to die so that the British Army general staff could maintain its funding in the next budget round.

2. Helmand

History

The British had ‘form’ in Afghanistan. During the Victorian imperial era we fought at least two wars against Afghans plus innumerable skirmishes. Afghanistan was a loose bundle of tribal regions between the north-west frontier of imperial India and the Russian Empire and so the site of the famous ‘Great Game’ i.e. extended spying and political machinations against Russia.

We had our arses kicked in the First Afghan War of 1839 to 1842 which featured the largest British military disaster of the nineteenth century, when a force of 4,500 soldiers and 12,000 civilians were forced to abandon Kabul and retreat through the Khyber Pass on 1 January 1842. One man, one man, alone survived. In the Second Afghan War of 1878 to 1880 the British lost the battle of Maiwand to a coalition of tribal chiefs.

The thing about Maiwand is that it’s about 60 miles from Lashkar Gah, the capital of Helmand Province where the British now went. Although nobody in Britain remembers the battle, the Afghans do: it’s the great moment when they took on the might of the British Empire and triumphed. In Afghan history the battle holds something like the place of Agincourt in our national myth. The British were blundering into the heartland of Afghan pride and patriotism. Once again, colossal ignorance.

‘We knew very little about Helmand Province.’ (Air Chief Marshal Sir Glen Torpy, p.69)

British soldiers arriving to police the area where they lost a famous battle to the great-great-great-grandfathers of the present tribal leaders was, in effect, a challenge to a rematch. Which is why Ledwidge quotes president of Afghanistan Ashraf Ghani saying that, if there’s one country from the entire international community which emphatically shouldn’t have been sent to south Afghanistan, it was Britain (p.66).

Situation in 2007

Some Brits had been in place since 2001 when small units of US and UK special forces were infiltrated into the north of the city and directed the campaign to overthrow the Taliban. A small British unit helped secure Kabul, and one had been quietly operating a provincial reconstruction team in the north of the country.

Since the overthrow of the Taliban in 2001 American special forces had been holding Helmand Province from a base in the capital Lashkar Gah, which, under their relaxed supervision, was completely peaceful. It was the arrival of the Brits which triggered the violence which was soon to engulf them, characterise their 3 years in the country, and lead to another crushing strategic defeat.

Bosnia and a proper force

When the Brits took part in peacekeeping in Bosnia they were part of a force 60,000 strong, in a relatively benign security setup (no Kosavars or Serbs attacked patrols), close to the European countries with large NATO bases i.e. easily resupplied. Many officers apparently thought Helmand would be the same sort of thing because Helmand Province is the same rough size as Bosnia and has a similar population, around 1 million. Hence Defence Secretary John Reid confidently asserting that the army would spend its 3 year mission supervising reconstruction projects without a shot being fired. What an idiot.

The British deployed a small force of just 3,500 to cover an area two and a half times the size of Wales, with little or no infrastructure i.e. roads, 8,000 miles from home, with little or no knowledge about the local people, their ethnic or tribal makeup, culture or history (p.69).

Deposing the one man who held the province together

When the Brits arrived the chief power in the region was a warlord named Sher Muhammed Akhundzada or SMA for short (p.70). He practiced extortion and intimidation but he had suppressed all other rivals and so in effect kept the peace. SMA was also heavily involved in opium cultivation and heroin production, the leading component of the local economy. Well, in 2005 the British prevailed upon President Karzai to get rid of SMA, to the dismay of the Americans and aid workers.

The inevitable happened. With the local strongman who’d been keeping the peace removed, a host of smaller gangs and militias moved into the area, notably the once-cowed remnants of the Taliban. Removing SMA was the single act which triggered all the chaos which followed. It was the Brit equivalent of Bremer dissolving the Iraqi army and police (p.71).

Heroin

At international meetings British politicians had enthusiastically volunteered the British Army to lead on combating the drugs trade. Trouble was the British were also trying to mount a hearts and minds counterinsurgency campaign, and the two were diametrically opposed. Every time they shut down a poppy plantation and burned all the heroin, they made an angry enemy of the farmer and his workers and dependents. Worse, some operations were closed down while others continued to thrive, leading to the belief that the entire policy was just another form of extortion and corruption (p.71).

SAS advice

An SAS unit had been operating in the area in co-operation with the Americans for four years. They were tasked with writing a report ahead of the deployment of the 3,500 British forces. They advised we keep SMA in place, would need a significant increase in numbers and money in order to carry on the Americans’ effective hearts and minds campaign, and that the Brits should remain within the highly populated central part of the province (p.74).

Instead the Brits sent a small force with little money, got rid of the one man who could control the province, and then took the decision to ignore the SAS advice and disperse the troops to small barracks set up in each town. The fancy ambition was to ‘disperse and hold’. Maps in HQ showed ‘inkspots’ of pacification which would slowly join up till the whole province was pacified and reconstruction could crack on.

Platoon houses under attack

Of course that never happened. Instead, small forces found themselves trapped in what became known as ‘platoon houses’ in Helmand’s various towns, Lashkar Gah, Musa Qaleh, Sangin and so on. Ledwidge summarises the deployment in a devastating litany of mistakes. The force deployed:

with vulnerable Snatch Land Rovers, no real counter-IED capability, not enough helicopters, no air-to-ground fire capability, and only a limited ability to gather intelligence or carry out combat operations. This made it a very weak and blind force, and one that would depend entirely on the goodwill of the population and its leaders for its mobility beyond its bases and even its existence within them. (p.75)

The situation was made ten times worse by sacking the one man who knew and controlled the province and who they could have worked with, SMA.

3 Para

The 3,500 troops deployed to Afghanistan were 16 Air Assault Brigade, with one battle group of about 650 men based around the Third Parachute Regiment or 3 Para. These boys are trained to fight and were looking for a fight. Ledwidge thinks they were about the last possible troop you wanted to deploy to a region which required slow, subtle and careful relationship-building.

Testing new kit

The army had recently acquired some of the new Apache helicopters. These have awesome firepower and were designed for high intensity fighting against the invading Soviet Army on the North German plain. Army staff wanted to see them in action. So there was no hearts and minds strategy regarding the Afghan people. Planning was led not by long-term political or strategic considerations, but by operational considerations, which went: we’ve got these troops. We’ve got some new helicopters. We need to use them both or we’ll lose them in the next Treasury spending review. Let’s go!

Dispersing our forces

A long-term development plan for Helmand Province had been written but it was ignored in favour of faulty intelligence. Somehow the figure of 450 Taliban fighters came to the attention of the Brigade staff. This sounded like a number that 3 Para could eliminate. So, instead of concentrating their forces in the heartland as the plan and the small number of US troops who’d been quietly manning Helmand recommended, the decision was taken to deploy small, agile, light forces to each town ready to kill these insurgents (p.83). Ledwidge names the guilty general who took the decision to ignore the draft plan and all the best advice and split up his forces into small pockets scattered round small towns, but it’s such an indictment, such a fatally bad decision, that I am too cautious to name names.

Very quickly these little fortresses our boys were dispersed to became magnets for insurgents keen to show themselves worthy of their great-great-great-great grandfathers and their feats against the invading Angrez. Attacks on the platoon house began immediately and got steadily more intense. British troops found themselves fighting merely to hang on. All thoughts of pacification or security were abandoned. Plans for reconstruction and economic development were abandoned. The Brits proved unable to secure the peace let alone do any reconstruction. Barely able to supply themselves, all they could do was fight off continual attacks. This desperate plight was dignified with the title ‘force protection’. In reality it was hanging on for dear life.

It is this stressed and highly embattled situation which is chronicled in vivid accounts like ‘3 Para’ (‘Real Combat. Real Heroes. Real Stories’) and many other bestselling paperbacks like it. Ledgwidge has a humorous name for this entire genre – herographies, stirring accounts of our plucky lads, surrounded and fighting against the odds. He suggests there’s something in our national psyche which warms to the notion of the plucky underdog, the Battle of Britain, the Blitz. But it’s all rubbish. These embattled outposts were created by a commanding officer who went against the advice of the Americans and a handful of Brit SAS troops who had been quietly hunkered down in Lashkar Gah and kept the province void of violence from 2001 to 2006 when 3 Para arrived and stirred up a hornet’s nest.

Same with Sniper One, Sergeant Dan Mills’ vivid, Sun-style account of hanging on in a fortified base against sustained assault by ‘insurgents’ in al-Amarah, south-east Iraq. From the first page the account shows dazzling ignorance about the environment he’s been posted to. The entire narrative opens with the way that, on their very first day, on their very first patrol, of all the places to pull over their Snatch Land Rovers for a breather, they chose to park outside the local headquarters of the fierce and violent Shia militia, the Jaish al-Mahdi. The fiercely chauvinistic militants inside took this to be a calculated insult to their pride and manliness and so, with no warning, opened fire on the patrol and lobbed grenades at them, one of which severely injured a mate of Dan’s, leading to a sustained firefight. When relief vehicles were sent to ‘extract’ them, these were ambushed and proved unable to reach them etc.

It’s a dramatic story and would make the great opening scene of a movie but, having read Ledwidge’s high-level, strategic analysis, you could hardly come up with a clearer example of the blundering British ignorance of the situation on the ground, ignorance of the subtleties and dangers of local power politics, feuds and rivalries which condemned our troops to being surrounded and besieged both in Basra and Helmand. Same thing happened in both places. No lessons were learned. Nothing was understood.

Dan Mills’ intense and violent experience of being besieged lasted four months until the entire garrison of his particular fortress, Cimic House, was evacuated and ‘extracted’ back to the more defensible base at the local airport. Mills is at pains to tell us they left with honour. But really, like the British army as a whole in both Basra province and Helmand province, they were soundly beaten and ran away.

Only tiny numbers were actual fighting troops

A central and rather mind-boggling fact is that, of a deployment of 3,500 troops it may be that only a couple of hundred are available for actual patrols. In the Afghan chapter as in the Basra chapter, Ledwidge explains that a quite astonishing number of the ‘troops’ sent to these kinds of places have other roles to play apart from combat: from military police manning prisons, to cooks and engineers, from planners and general staff through the comms and media and press teams. There are the drivers who bravely bring in provisions and ammo to the central bases over long, exposed supply lines, there are the helicopter pilots and the scads of engineers and specialists required to keep them airborne. There are, of course, expert handlers, storers and maintainers of all the different types of ammunition, quartermasters and logistics specialists. The list goes on and on and explains the stunning fact that, out of a battalion of 3,500 men, only 168 were available for foot patrols (p.143). Thus the provincial capital, Lashkar Gah, a town of 200,000, was patrolled by just 200 British soldiers, of which only 20 were actually out on the street at any one time (p.83). Pathetic. Insignificant.

Ledwidge compares the British deployments in Basra and Afghanistan (8,000 and 5,000 in conflict zones with completely unreliable support from the ‘police’) to the well-known deployment to Malaya in the 1950s (which British officers never stopped boring their American colleagues with) which consisted of 40,000 troops working alongside a trustworthy local police force of 100,000. In other words a completely different situation.

The Taliban return

Ledwidge arrived in Afghanistan mid-2007, one year after the initial deployment, to find chaos on the streets and the Brits fighting for their survival in an archipelago of isolated, highly embattled strongholds (p.88). The army had completely lost the initiative and was reduced to hanging on in these forts, rarely able to leave them, their ‘presence’ and ‘authority’ non-existent more than a few hundred yards from the walls – all while the Taliban slowly re-established themselves among the general population as reliable providers of security and justice, albeit of a very harsh variety. Harsh but better than the random outbursts of extreme violence and destruction associated with the angry, frustrated British soldiers.

Sangin and the drugs trade

In Sangin, one of the world centres of the heroin trade, the Brits found themselves drawn into drug turf wars without understanding the complex power politics between rival drug gangs, ‘police’, regional and central government, tribal allegiances and religious motivations. The Brits just labelled them all ‘Taliban’ and thought they achieved something when they killed 5 or 10 or 20 of them in a firefight; when of course such firefights had zero impact on the actual situation. All they ever did was destroy the centres of the towns where these kinds of firefights took place (‘destroying and depopulating town centres’ p.84) and kill lots of innocent civilians; or else forced the populations to flee these new centres of violence, nobody knew where: off into the desert, to other towns, many to the slums of Kabul.

All this reinforced the ancestral perception that the ‘Angrez’ were unwanted invaders who brought only destruction and death – as they did. New insurgents were created whenever their families were injured or killed, new recruits stepped in to replace fathers or brothers. The potential supply of ‘insurgents’ was limitless.

‘Killing insurgents usually serves to multiply enemies rather than subtract them…[something which] is especially relevant in revenge-prone Pashtun communities…’ (General Michael Flynn, former US army chief of intelligence in Iraq, p.206)

This wasn’t helped at all by the adoption of a ‘decapitation’ strategy, increasingly adopted (out of desperation) in Basra and Helmand. It meant targeting supposed leaders of the insurgency and then killing them. There are four obvious objections to this policy. One is that for every ‘Taliban leader’ you kill, at least one if not more male relatives will step into the gap. Two is that almost certainly you will kill innocent civilians in the process, thus inflaming the general population and recruiting more enemy. Three, more than one serving officer raised fears that these decapitation forces degenerated into little more than ‘death squads’, not unlike the notorious death squads which existed in many Latin American countries (p.233).

The fourth objection is that the entire policy relies on accurate intelligence i.e. knowing who these alleged Taliban leaders are. Accurate intelligence was something the Brits never had in either Basra or Helmand. None of them spoke the language. They had to rely on local sources and Ledwidge gives some bleakly funny examples of one or other gang of businessmen or drug barons ‘tipping the British off’ about dangerous ‘Taliban leaders’ who the Brits then dutifully arrested in a violent and destructive raid but when they interrogated them, slowly and embarrassingly discovered that so-called ‘Taliban leaders’ were in fact heads of a rival business or drugs gang. In other words, the Brits were routinely played for patsies, useful idiots who could be twisted round the little fingers of savvy local drugs barons and warlords.

So decapitation doesn’t work, you lose the moral high ground, and you multiply your enemy. But it was this desperate expedient, the tactic of a force which has lost the battle, which the Brits resorted to in both Basra and Helmand.

And these counter-productive and sometimes farcical efforts were then publicised by army press and media officers as successful raids, listing the amount of weaponry captured and ‘insurgents’ killed, puff stories and completely meaningless figures which were then reported in the British press, and passed up the chain of command to eventually be shown to naive politicians in PowerPoint presentations which proved how we were winning the war and would bring peace and plenty to Iraq and Afghanistan any minute now, we’re just turning the corner, just give us another billion to finish the job, Prime Minister.

Cause of the destruction

So many civilian deaths were caused because the Brits would go out on a patrol, almost immediately be ambushed and surrounded and start taking casualties, and so radio in for air support. Up would come an Apache attack helicopter armed with guns firing high calibre rockets designed to penetrate Soviet tanks into urban areas packed with houses built of breeze blocks or mud bricks. The choppers might have fought off the attackers but they also devastated all the buildings in a large area (p.82).

This destruction of the centres of every town in Helmand was the direct consequence of not sending enough troops. More troops could have defended themselves better without calling in death from the air. Inadequate troops had to call in what was effectively heavy artillery. The shitty British tradition of trying to do it on the cheap ended up destroying Afghan towns and massacring Afghan civilians.

Imagine your house was completely destroyed in one of the Brits’ pointless ‘pacification’ exercises, maybe your wife or son or brother killed or injured, and the local resistance offered you a stipend to take up arms and help drive these wicked invaders out of your homeland. It would not only be your patriotic, tribal and family duty, but you’d want to do it, to be revenged.

And so the Brits spent years devastating and destroying the very towns they said they’d come to rebuild and ‘develop’. Madness. This pattern continued for four years, ‘an operation that was in a state of drift, chaotically bereft of credible strategy’ (p.91).

Six months rotations

Everything was made worse by the Army’s policy of 6 months rotations. Every 6 months battalions would be rotated home and an entirely new troop came in with new officers and men who didn’t have a clue about their surroundings. The system tended to incentivise each new commanding officer to devise and carry out pointless engagements known as ‘signature operations’ (p.90). British commanders, like middle managers everywhere, have to be seen to be doing something, even if their violent and entirely counter-productive little operations worked against the long-term aims of the deployment i.e. securing the population (p.99). None of the officers had long-term interests. They were only there for 6 months which leads to loss of knowledge, loss of continuity, and continual chopping and changing of plans (p.144).

Allying with a corrupt government

And yet another fundamental flaw: the Brits were meant to be defending ‘the government’ but it took senior Brits many years to realise the ‘government’ in Kabul was no better than a congeries of gangs and cliques and criminals carving up budget money and resources among themselves and their tribes. The mass of the people despised and hated the so-called ‘government’ and we…allied ourselves with them (p.95).

Allying with criminal police

On the ground the Afghan ‘police’ were even worse than the Iraqi police. Iraqi police were notorious for corruption – under Saddam their main occupation was stopping traffic at checkpoints and demanding bribes. But the police in Helmand Province were significantly more vicious; they extorted money with menaces and were notorious for raping women and boys. Every police station had a ‘fun boy’ or house catamite for the officers to sodomise (p.76).

Thus the British were seen to be supporting and helping murders, rapists and extortionists. Ledwidge quotes an aid worker getting a phone call from terrified civilians, after the British ‘secured’ an area of Sangin so that the ‘police’ could sweep through the area looking for the bad guys but, in reality, raping at will and extorting money at gunpoint (p.85). The British allied themselves to the most criminal element in Afghan society. Thus it is absolutely no surprise to learn that everyone, without exception, wanted the rapist-friendly, town-destroying ‘Angrez’ to leave as soon as possible (p.95).

The appeal of the Taliban

The British ‘strategy’ enabled the Taliban to present itself as the representatives of impartial justice and security. After all, that had been their achievement when they came to power in 1996: ending years of civil war between rival warlords. ‘The single most effective selling point of the pre-9/11 Taliban was justice’ (p.94). They could offer what the British couldn’t and slowly the majority of the population came to prefer rough justice to criminal anarchy.

‘The Taliban did not even have a bakery that they can give bread to the people, but still most people support the Taliban – that’s because people are sick of night raids and being treated badly by the foreigners.’ (Afghan farmer, quoted p.233)

Legacy

The deployment of 16 Air Assault Brigade had been nothing short of disastrous. Bereft of insight or perspective of any point of view except the most radical form of ‘cracking on’ they had left a legacy of destroyed towns, refugees and civilian casualties…They had set a pattern of dispersed forts, difficult to defend and even more difficult to support or supply. (p.87)

All this explains why, in 2010, the Americans had to bail the British out and come and secure Helmand, exactly as they had had to take over Basra after the British miserably failed there as well. The Yanks were cheered on arrival in Garmshir, not because they were American, but simply because they weren’t British.

A mission that had begun with high hopes of resurrecting Britain’s military reputation in the eyes of its American allies had resulted only in reinforcing the view that the British were not to be relied on. (p.105)

If Basra damaged the military side of the so-called ‘special relationship’, then Afghanistan destroyed it (p.106). The British ambassador to Afghanistan reflected that the entire campaign was ‘a half-baked effort’ (p.105).

In 2013 Prime Minister David Cameron declared ‘mission accomplished’ (these politicians and their lies) and by the end of 2014 almost all British combat troops had been withdrawn. What Ledwidge didn’t know as he wrote the second edition of this book in 2016 was that 6 years later Joe Biden was to withdraw the final US troops from the Afghanistan with the result that the country fell within a week to the same Taliban who the Brits cheerfully claimed to be eliminating in 2007 and 2008 and 2009. Was it all for nothing? Yes, except for the lasting legacy of bitterness and hatred we left behind. Ledwidge quotes journalist Jean Mackenzie:

I never met an Afghan who did not hold the view that the British were in Helmand to screw them. They hate the British viscerally and historically. Even if they had been competent there was no way the British were going to do well there. But when they came in with gobbledeygook about ‘robust rules of engagement’ and started killing Helmandi civilians, that was it. (p.107)

It is obvious what a huge gap separated the reality experienced by most Afghans and the story the Brits told themselves and, via their sophisticated Comms and Press teams, told the British people and the world. ‘Lies’ is the word that springs to mind. ‘Propaganda’, obviously. ‘Spin’ is the term that was used by New Labour and its media manipulators. But it’s maybe closer to the truth to say comprehensive ‘self deception’.

The weak point of counterinsurgency theory

Counterinsurgency can only work in a state with a strong or supportive government. What the Americans and British in Iraq and Afghanistan told themselves they were doing was supporting ‘government’ forces against insurgents. The problem was that the ‘government’ itself was highly partisan or weak or both, and its representatives on the ground were corrupt and violent and ineffective. Under those circumstances the native populations made the rational decision to opt for the only force which had in the past ensured basic security, the Mahdi Army in Iraq and the Taliban in Afghanistan (p.108). Backing weak governments tends to encourage ethnic nationalism as the only viable alternative.

Sucking up to the Yanks

Damningly, the conclusion Ledwidge comes to is the reason there was never any coherent strategy in either Iraq or Afghanistan, the reason the British generals and majors and soldiers never really knew what they were meant to be doing, is because both campaigns really, in essence, had only one aim: Tony Blair’s wish to suck up to the Americans. Blair wanted to be a player on the world stage, to secure his fame, to stand shoulder to shoulder with the Yanks in their War Against Terror, thought Britain could be the older wiser Athens to America’s bigger richer but unsophisticated Rome, blah blah blah, yadda yadda yadda.

The goal of being America’s best friend may be despicable or admirable according to taste, it doesn’t really matter, because the practical outcome was that the British Army was put to the test and failed, not once but twice, failing to provide security and anything like peace in both southern Iraq and southern Afghanistan. Both times the American Army had to move in and take over and did a much better job. So the net, high-level result was the exact opposite of Blair’s wish to be seen as America’s number one best friend. As Ledwidge puts it, if Basra damaged the so-called ‘special relationship’, Helmand destroyed it (p.106).

3. Libya

In 2011 the Arab Spring began in Tunisia and popular protests soon spread to Libya and Egypt. In Libya anti-government protests broke out in the eastern city of Benghazi. The West worried that Colonel Gaddafi was about to send armed forces to massacre protesters so France, the UK and US sponsored UN resolution 1973 justifying ‘intervention’ to save lives and establishing no fly zones, the concept pioneered in Iraq to protect the Kurds in 1991.

On this basis the French launched lightning air strikes against Gaddafi’s forces as they entered Benghazi and threatened to attack protesters, and in support of the rebel National Transitional Council. As usual, there was a lot of high-minded guff about protecting civilians and how regime change was the last thing on our minds, but there was steady slippage and the bombardments increased to actively support the rebels and quell the government forces.

In June 2011 Ledwidge was deployed to Libya as a ‘stabilisation officer’. On 20 October 2011, Gaddafi was tracked down to a hideout in Sirte, surrounded by the usual clamouring rabble, and beaten and shot to death. There’s grim, dispiriting footage of the event in this this American news report.

Anyway, the point is, you get rid of a long-ruling dictator who’s been holding his country together via repressive, feared security forces and… does it overnight turn into Holland or Vermont? No. It collapses into civil war between rebel factions and into the power and security vacuum come… Islamic terrorists. Exactly as happened in Iraq.

Thus, Ledwidge tells us, Libya under Gaddafi from 1969 to 2011 never harboured any Islamic terrorists. In the years since his fall it has become the North African base of Islamic State and other extreme Islamic groups who now use it as a base to launch attacks into neighbouring countries.

Ledgewick’s thematic critique

Part two of the book (pages 117 to 281) moves on to consider general points and issues raised by the three wars. These are so many and so complicated that I’ll give only a brief selection. They’re addressed in chapters titled:

  • Dereliction of Duty: the Generals and Strategy
  • Cracking On and Optimism Bias: British Military Culture and Doctrine
  • Tactics without Strategy: The Counterinsurgency Conundrum
  • Managing Violence: the Question of Force
  • Strangers in Strange Lands
  • Fixing Intelligence
  • Thinking to Win

The armed forces are top heavy. The army has more generals than helicopters. This in turn breeds groupthink. All senior officers are trained at one college where they are taught to think the same.

Another aspect of the overpopulation of generals is none of them stand up to politicians. Ledwidge gives examples from the Second World War and Malaya of generals demanding that politicians are absolutely clear about the goals and ends of campaigns. He also says generals from previous generations were blunt to politicians about risks. He describes the detailed explanation of the risks of failure give to Margaret Thatcher about the Falklands War. Whereas none of the umpteen senior generals overseeing the deployment to either Iraq or Helmand appears to have explained to the politicians (Blair, Brown) the very serious risk of failure. Trahison des généraux.

On the contrary, many suffered from optimism bias: ‘the tendency to overestimate our chances of positive experiences and underestimate our chances of negative experiences.’ Ledwidge gives examples of junior officers whose frank and candid assessments of situations were criticised as defeatist or even unpatriotic. Very quickly they learned to gloss over setbacks and accentuate the positive. If this pattern is repeated at every rung going up the ladder, then by the time it reaches the politicians military reports tell them we’re winning the war when we’re in fact losing it. Or encourage them to take further bad decisions on the basis of bad intelligence (pages 160 to 170). John Reid later testified that the generals said it would be no problem having a major troop deployment in Iraq and Afghanistan simultaneously (p.162)

Politicians don’t understand the army. Blair went out of his way to praise the army in his appearances before the Chilcott Enquiry by saying they have such a ‘can-do’ attitude. Except that it turned out that they can’t do. At all. But clearly that’s not what they told him. In the war, in Malaya, in the buildup to the Falklands, generals made the political leaders very aware of the risks. But ahead of Iraq and Afghanistan they appear not to have. The attitude was ‘Yes, Prime Minister’, kowtowing and acquiescing. Craven.

There are a number of reasons for this. 1) One is pusillanimity i.e. generals being scared a) about their own careers b) about funding for their service, if they appeared reluctant. 2) Another is groupthink: they all agree and fall in with political will.

3) Ledwidge explains another reason by quoting Max Hastings as saying that the British Army has a long and venerable tradition of failing to send enough men, of trying to do things on the cheap, with not enough troops – a policy which has resulted in a whole series of catastrophes, all of which are air-brushed out of history.

It’s connected to 4) the belief that the British Army is somehow special; that its role in World War Two, in various colonial pacifications, in Northern Ireland, then in Bosnia and Kosovo, somehow gives it a moral superiority, an integrity and decency and blah blah blah which don’t have to rely on banal details like having enough troops or the right equipment to do the job. British exceptionalism.

And this is itself connected to the long-held view that the British somehow won the Second World War, although the soldiers and logistics in the West were mostly American, and the war in the East was, obviously enough, won by the enormous sacrifices of the Russian Army. Yet somehow the belief lingered on through the generations that because we ‘stood alone’ against Hitler and suffered through the Blitz, we were the moral victors of the war. Which in turn leads to 5) the view that we’ll muddle through, that it will all come right because, well, we’re the good guys, right?

All of which explains why the narratives we tell ourselves (and government spin doctors and military press officers tell us) – that we are the good guys coming in to get rid of the terrorists and rebuild your country for you – are so completely at odds with the practical impact we actually had on the lives of people in Iraq and Afghanistan and, to a lesser extent, Libya. And why we couldn’t understand why so many of them came to hate us, tried to kill us, and rejoiced when they drove us out of their countries.

Red teaming

There is an established process to tackle this which is to deploy so-called ‘red teams’ which are simply a group of planners who you pay to think through everything that could go wrong and devise worst case scenarios. To think a plan through from the point of view of the enemy and consider what they’d do, where our weakest points are. In fact just before the deployment to Iraq the Defence Intelligence Staff did produce a red team report. It accurately predicted that after a short honeymoon period the response of the Iraqi population would become fragile and dependent on the effectiveness of the post-conflict administration, as indeed it did. But the report was ignored. As you might expect, Ledwidge recommends that ‘red teaming’ plans is made standard practice, as well as a culture of critique being encouraged at every level of the military hierarchy.

Clear thinking about counterinsurgency

Apparently the Yanks got sick of listening to British officers crapping on about what experts they were at counterinsurgency because of our great achievements in Malaya and Northern Ireland. So Ledgwidge devotes a chapter to extended and fascinating analyses of both campaigns, which demonstrates how they were both utterly different from the situations in Iraq and Afghanistan. Maybe the key difference in both was that Malaya and NI both had a functioning government and a large and reliable police force, neither of which existed in Iraq/Afghan. In Iraq and Afghanistan the army was tasked with fighting an insurgency and rebuilding a national government at the same time.

Divided aims

Having a functioning government in place meant that the military was free to concentrate on handling the insurgency and so were not distracted by requirements of state building or infrastructure reconstruction. Yet these were huge issues in both Iraq and Afghanistan and so split the priorities and distracted the strategies for dealing with the insurgency. The army always had two simultaneous but conflicting agendas, in fact three: 1) deal with the insurgency; 2) support the creation of a new functioning civil government, along with a new police force; 3) try to rebuild infrastructure, power stations and suchlike.

Dividing them into three separate aims like that helps you to understand that any one of those goals would have tested a military presence of modest size, but lumping all three together was an impossible ask. It was too much to ask of any army, but especially one that was undermanned from the start.

Because numbers: 40,000 troops in Malaya + 100,000 reliable police; 28,000 troops in Northern Ireland + tens of thousands of police; but in Afghanistan just 5,000 troops and useless corrupt police. Numbers, numbers, numbers.

More than any other factor, the restoration and maintenance of order requires numbers (p.24)

Ledwidge uses various experts’ ratios of troops to civilians to estimate that there should have been at least 50,000 British troops in Helmand, not 5,000 (p.205). At the height of the Troubles there were 28,000 troops in Northern Ireland (p.202).

In Malaya, contrary to myth, there was also a good deal of coercion, many rebels were shot, there were atrocities (village massacres) and something akin to concentration camps was used to round up the jungle population so as to starve the Chinese communist insurgents of support. I.e it was more brutal than rose-tinted legend depicts.

The importance of intelligence

In Northern Ireland the key was intelligence i.e. the British military and security forces got to know the enemy really, really well. This in-depth knowledge allowed them to contain IRA campaigns but more importantly, paved the way for negotiations. And the negotiations which brought the IRA in were carried out by civilians not military.

Ledwidge has an entire chapter explaining traditional definitions of military intelligence, along with ‘the intelligence cycle’ (p.232), a lengthy explanation of why it worked in Northern Ireland (stable government, large reliable police force, lengthy deployments – 2 years – similarity in background between army and IRA, same language), similar culture, values and experiences, down to supporting the same football teams (p.237). None of this applied in Iraq/Afghanistan, which triggers a chapter-long analysis of how modern intelligence seeking needs to be rethought and updated to apply to such demanding environments (pages 231 to 248).

With disarming candour, Ledwidge says sometimes the best intelligence isn’t derived from hi-tech spying but from just talking to journalists, especially local journalists; they often have far better sources than whip-smart intelligence officers helicoptered into a situation who don’t speak the language, have no idea of the political and social setup, and are asked to supply actionable intelligence within weeks. Read the local papers. Listen to the local radio stations. Meet with local journalists.

Ledwidge was himself an intelligence officer within the military, and then a civil rights worker for the Organisation for Security and Cooperation in Europe i.e. as a soldier and a civilian, so is well placed to make this analysis.

All wars are, at bottom, political and require political solutions

Maybe the most important point of all is that counterinsurgency is a political activity. David Galula the French counterinsurgency expert thought that counterinsurgency operations should be 80%/20% political to military (p.177). The military effort only exists to support what must first and foremost be a political strategy (ideally, of negotiating towards a peaceful settlement).

This was the most important point about the Malaya Emergency, that it was run by a civilian Brit, with civilian ends in view.

If [the great military theorist Carl von] Clausewitz tells us nothing else he tells us this: overriding all is the political element. No amount of military nostrums or principles will make up for the lack of a workable political objective, rooted in a firmly realistic appreciation of national interest. (p.188)

The great failure of the British campaigns in Iraq and Afghanistan was that they became entirely military, became narrowly focused on finding and killing the enemy. Ledwidge associates this with the failed American strategy in Vietnam. In Nam the Americans boasted at their daily press conferences about the number of enemy they’d killed. Military and politicians and public were all led to think that numbers of enemy dead equalled ‘success’. But of course it didn’t. The Yanks killed tens of thousands of the enemy but lost the war because it was a political struggle, for the allegiance of the people.

Thus Ledwidge says he knew the Brits were losing in Afghanistan when he arrived to find the army press conferences once again focusing on numbers of insurgents or ‘Taliban’ killed in each day’s skirmishes and firefights. Political engagement and discussion had been sidelined in favour of a purely military solution; but there was no purely military solution and so we failed.

Spiralling costs

Did you know it cost £400,000 per year to maintain one soldier in either of these countries? Or that one 1,000 kilo bomb dropped from a plane on a suspect target cost £250,000? Ledwidge says the campaign in Afghanistan cost some £6 billion per year (can that be right?). And for what? Ledwidge estimates the cost of both campaigns to the British government at £40 billion. For nothing.

Better education

The book ends with a chapter comparing the high education standards expected of American officers (and recruits) and the absence of such criteria for the British. He reviews the astonishing number of senior US generals with PhDs, something I noticed in Thomas Ricks’s book about Iraq, and which backs up Emma Sky’s experience that all the senior US officers she worked with are astonishingly well educated and erudite. Not only better educated, but more flexible in their thinking. Having attended civilian universities for several years they are used to free and open debate and to defending their opinions and analyses in open forums – something British army officers are actively discouraged from doing. Ledwidge gives names of British army officers who’ve written essays critical of the army whose publication has been blocked by MoD officials, or who have chosen to resign from the army altogether in order to publish their book.

Due to the US army’s encouragement and lavish spending on higher education for its officers, there are currently more American army officers studying for research degrees in British universities than British army officers (p.260).

With the ever-growing role of cyber warfare, Ledwidge cites a contemporary Chinese military theorist, Chang Mengxiong, who says that future wars will be about highly skilled, well-educated operatives – not clever but conformist generals promising they can do anything to naive politicians, then ‘cracking on’ and muddling through the dire situation they’ve got their men into, killing more and more innocent civilians, retreating to embattled forts and finally retreating with their tails between their legs. It’ll be about fighting smart. (From this perspective, the Russian invasion of Ukraine seems even more blundering, brutal and outdated.)

Ledwidge’s recommendations

Our generals were not up to the job. We need better ones. The number of one-star and above generals across all three services should be cut from 450 to 150. We don’t need 130 major generals or 800 full colonels.

Senior officers need to be drawn from a more diverse pool, not just in terms of gender and race, but expert civilians should be encouraged to join the army, and take officer training.

To reach the rank of general you must take an in-depth course in strategy (currently not necessary). Parts of this could be offered by senior business people and academics who specialise in logical thinking.

The savings from getting rid of hundreds of senior officers who do little more than fill committees and shuffle paperwork would generate savings which could be invested in training courses at civilian institutions, such as universities, such as the US Army pays for its senior generals to take, in order to produce soldier scholars.

The army keeps buying ridiculously expensive hardware which turns out to be irrelevant to the kind of wars we are now fighting. Part of that is down to the blatant corruption of the senior staff who make purchasing decisions and who, upon retirement, take up lucrative directorships at the very companies they’ve awarded billion pound contracts to. They should be forbidden by law from doing so for at least five years after leaving the services.

The chances are the next really serious threats we will face to our security come from either a fully armed massive Russian army, or from lethal cyber `attacks. Since successive governments have cut defence budgets and successive general staffs have frittered it away on expensive hardware, the more basic elements of a functioning military have been overlooked, most importantly the ability to think, process and adapt very fast to probably fast-moving threats.

Hence the need for a broad-based strategic education, and not the narrow, tradition and conservative fare dished up at Sandhurst or the Joint Services Command and Staff College (JSCSC) at Shrivenham.

Conclusions (mine, not Ledgwidge’s)

1. Never believe anything the British Army says about any of its campaigns.

2. Whenever you hear a preening politician or ‘expert’ journalist crapping on about ‘the special relationship’ between the UK and the US, remember the humiliating shame of the British Army having to be bailed out not once but twice by the American army from jobs it had volunteered to do and egregiously failed at. Remember the roster of senior US military figures Ledwidge lines up to testify that the Americans will never trust the British Army again.

3. Never, ever, ever send the British Army on any more ‘security and reconstruction missions’. They will not only miserably fail – due to lack of intelligence, planning, failure to understand the nature of the conflict, refusal to use modern intelligence approaches and above all, cheapskate paltry numbers and lack of resources – but they will make the situation worse, occupying wretched little platoon forts which become the epicentres of destructive firefights, devastating town centres, leaving thousands dead. And sooner or later they will have to be bailed out by the Americans.

In making and executing strategic decisions both senior officers and politicians should understand the basic limitations on capability and be fully apprised of potential failure. (p.138)

4. Dictators in Third World countries may be evil but, on balance, may be better than the alternatives, these being either a) the situation created by invading US and UK forces in Iraq and Afghanistan (insurgency, terrorism, devastation) OR b) the situation created by a failed attempt to overthrow a dictator, as in Syria, i.e. anarchic civil war, huge numbers of civilian deaths, millions of wretched refugees and the explosive growth of terrorism.

Maybe stick with the dictator. Evil, but limited and controllable evil, which is better than the other sort.

One-sentence conclusion

After the expensive failures in Iraq and Afghanistan and the hasty and counter-productive involvement in Libya (the 2011 bombing campaign to support Gaddafi’s opponents), two fundamental criteria must be applied to any thought of similar interventions in the future:

Before any military commitment it is essential that: 1) a clear political objective be set, and that 2) sufficient resources be made available to get the job done. (p.274)


Credit

Losing Small Wars: British Military Failure in the 9/11 Wars by Frank Ledwidge was first published by Yale University press in 2011. References are to the YUP paperback of the second edition (2017).

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