Fear: the second wave

Right on cue, now that the doomsayer’s terror tactics over the virus has all but been exhausted, every ounce of fear mongering has been expended, the horror stories, the frightened eyes, the stats and graphs disappear from our screens, the media and governments, with their allies in big tech, big pharma, big data and big business now turn to the second card they hold in their hand – the climate crisis.  

It’s “Code red for humanity”.  It is “unprecedented”. (now where did I hear that word before?) it is “irreversible” and it is all our fault. Not the fault of the 20 thousand delegates who will be coming to Glasgow in their solar power yachts sailing up the Clyde, from red amber and yellow countries all quarantine at their own expense in guarded hotels for 10 days all double vaccinated and socially distanced with covered faces.  No, not them. It’s the fault of the poor who need to feed themselves, who need to find shelter, warm their homes and support their families. These are the ones who are already subsidising the green revolution and who will have to make the sacrifices to “Save the planet”.

So be prepared for the next wave of doomsday divinations and the flooding of our screens with the climate meta narrative. Be aware that every clip of an iceberg melting, a wild fire, a flood, a superstorm or a drought will be milked dry until humanity is finally cowed and comes to heel.    

There is, of course, a serious point here, but that will have to wait.

Crawford Mackenzie

The Conversation


This is a transcript of the conversation:

CompliantWhere’s your mask?
CompliantWhere’s your mask?
DissenterI don’t have one
CompliantYou can get one …there’s a pile over there
DissenterNo, I don’t wear one
CompliantWhat do you mean?
DissenterI don’t wear one
CompliantOh, are you exempt or something? a disability? Do you have a card a lanyard?
DissenterNo, I am not exempt
CompliantBut if you’re not exempt you have to wear one… what’s your excuse?
DissenterI don’t have one .. I don’t have to wear one…I don’t need an excuse…I’m just not wearing one
CompliantWhy not? You have to…
DissenterNo, I don’t have to… you know as well as I do that they don’t do any good and a lot of harm. There is no reason why we should wear masks. A mask is a symbol of subjugation, a badge to humiliate. I am just not wearing one
CompliantAch, don’t give us this subjugation humiliation crap. Don’t be silly. Anyway  It’s mandatory, it’s the law and you could be passing the virus on to someone else who could get ill and die – you could  cause someone to die… its your civic duty to wear one
DissenterBut I don’t have the virus
CompliantYou could have
DissenterI could, but I don’t
CompliantBut how do you know that you don’t.
DissenterI don’t have any of the symptoms that they tell you about, the cough, the fever,   loss of….
CompliantBut you could be a carrier of it without knowing it.
DissenterI could be, but I am not
CompliantBut that’s crazy and stupid and reckless too! How do you know? Eh? Have you had the vaccine? Have you been double jabbed?
DissenterNo I haven’t and I’m not getting it…and anyway it’s my decision
CompliantBut that’s selfish!!
DissenterEh?  Its selfish not to take something to supposedly protect myself?
CompliantIts not about you!!!  its your civic duty to get vaccinated  
DissenterOh so its all about civic duty? Well, that’s where you are wrong… It doesn’t prevent infection or transmission, we know that, the evidence is in. We had a perfectly controlled experiment on the Royal Navy flotilla. There were 100 cases of coronavirus among the crew on the Queen Elizabeth all of whom were double vaccinated and they stated that they were operating all the social distancing measures masks and hand sanitising etc. So, there you have it. With the vaccine I can still get infected and I can still pass it on so on that score it doesn’t work. Vaccination can only be purely for personal protection, and a personal choice to do with personal risk. There is absolutely no social obligation to get vaccinated to protect others, and the idea of vaccinating children is not just crazy and senseless its terribly terribly dangerous and irresponsible…
CompliantOh so you’re an anti-vaxer now too.. you’ll be a covid denier as well I suppose…
DissenterOh, don’t give me these names, No!!!  I am not anti-vaccination, I just don’t want this one. I am not sure if it safe…
CompliantOf course it is… its been approved by all the important bodies and…
DissenterBut it’s not licenced, it’s still experimental we have no idea what bad effects may come from it. I have no idea what effect it may have on my grandaughter’s baby if she gets pregnant. We have just no idea what effects it may have on child bearing women or on fertility. You see I remember Thalidomide the wonder drug that was developed by…and it’s hard to believe this … by a German company based on the work of a former Nazi who worked for Mengele.. it was a wonder drug that would sort out morning sickness and it was only when the babies were born that they discovered the horrors of what it did. This vaccine has been tested over something like 4 months and from what I remember it takes 9 months for a baby. So we can’t know if it’s safe…
CompliantYes we do. They wouldn’t say it was safe unless it was. The pharmaceutical companies would not risk any mishap. They would be sued out of existence if there was a problem…
DissenterFunny you should say that, because the drug companies were given special dispensation that they would not be sued if there was a disaster. They only took on the work on that basis. Anyway, I’ve read the literature that they give you about the jab and they more or less say that they don’t know if It’s safe…
CompliantWhat! I don’t believe it… you’re havering there …
DissenterWell look I’ve got one here NHS Scotland IMPORTANT INFORMATION please read this leaflet before your get the vaccine under “fertility” it says “There is no evidence to suggest that the Covid-19 vaccine will affect fertility in men or women”
CompliantSo it is safe – there is no evidence that it affects fertility…
DissenterYou don’t get it do you?  It’s a sleight of hand. What they say in the leaflet is absolutely true but it is written in such a way to make you think that there are no effects on fertility, when what it is actually saying is  we don’t know if there are any. There is no evidence that there are. But there’s no evidence that there is not.
CompliantAch, it’s a waste of time talking to you… All these scientist and researchers all over the world can’t all be wrong… or do you think you are right and they are all wrong?
DissenterThey could all be wrong and , of course there are a whole lot of others who say different and you probably won’t here about them because they are basically gagged or black listed or cancelled.
DissenterWell… for a start… Sunetra Gupta, Mike Yeadon, Jay Bhattacharya, Martin Kulldorff, Robert Malone, Russel Blaylock, Peter MacCulloch, Karol Sikora, Peter Bregin,David Livermore, Carl Heneghan, John Lee… lots more…
CompliantOh I’m not sure why I bother… but look at it, the vaccine has broken the link between getting the virus and being sick. We know that for sure, So it works..
DissenterNo, we can’t be sure about that
CompliantWhat! Oh come-on! for goodness sake!  you are just being cantankerous. You are sold on conspiracy theories… You should get out more and stop listening to the lizards and phone mask conspiracy seeking creeps..
DissenterI don’t and I’m not…. but back to the point…because one thing follows another doesn’t mean the first caused the second. It is a classic false philosophical argument – there is a name for it but I’ve forgotten what it is – something about correlation and causation – like, every time Grannie comes to tea it rains, so granny caused the rain. There might be a connection between the two but there is no proof that there is. It’s the same with Lock-downs. They say the restrictions work because once these are in place cases drop but they might have been dropping anyway…It can’t be proved one way or the other
CompliantI was right, it’s a waste of time talking to you. You don’t really care do you? You want the virus to rip and if people die, too bad, as long as you can get to the pub and get on with your life. You are putting other people’s lives in danger. I can’t believe you would be so mean and so selfish. You are probably a grannie killer…
DissenterOh!!!  a grannie killer now!  -You know that’s pretty rich. It’s the government who have been killing Grannies!  you know that.. loading them off to care homes to get infected and die lonely and horrible deaths shut off from their loved ones. It is one the cruellest things about this whole debacle and there will be a reckoning. I am sure there will. When people find out what actually happened it could get very ugly… Someone must have known what they were doing. They weren’t interested in people’s lives they wanted to save the NHS and it’s all political. If you don’t see that, you must have blindly swallowed the whole thing. The NHS had to be protected at all costs to save the Tory party. If it collapsed under a Tory government, it would be a disaster for the party and the red walls would rise again. Care homes didn’t matter they were not the NHS. And all this nauseating clapping, sainthood, special services in St Paul’s Cathedral, oh dear,….  and now the George cross…
CompliantI was right, it’s a waste of time talking to you…  …. just keep away from me… …please…
DissenterNo worries.


Laura Dodsworth has published a devasting and explosive book cataloguing her forensic ferreting into the dark art of behavioural science and its employment by the authorities in the past 18 months. “A state of fear” clinically exposes the government and the cartel of advisors, medics, scientists, public health experts, statisticians and modellers in their cynical weaponizing of fear to get the population to do what they want, without them knowing it.

While a lot of this has had some airing before, hardly any of it has reaches the main stream media or has been taken up by journalist or political opposition, the people who you would expect would notice.  So, it is up to Laura a photographer, artist and author, not really known for journalism to step in to the breach, to scratch around, to push hard at the doors, to follow the evidence and get to the truth, while the rest of journalist, with some notable exceptions, have gone limp and supine. Even the rock and roll anti-establishment suspects, who are always quick to pounce on any titbit to throw at the establishment, have been strangely silent. It’s as if their mouths have been stuffed with gold or injected with drugs to stay quiet. Shout about anything they seem to be told, but don’t go there. There, however, is where Laura goes and when she has her teeth into the something she doesn’t let go. Funny, this is what I thought true journalism was all about. But it’s heartening, at least, to find someone who actually does it.

What is notable about the book is that it is sane and balanced. It isn’t fired by rage or anger. It isn’t an anti-vaxxers rant or the bleatings of a covid denier. It is simply the inquisitiveness of a curious mind and a nose that can smell a rat.  She manages to interview significant figures close to the government, some anonymous but others willing to give their names, including notable people involved in the Scientific Pandemic Insights Group on Behaviours (SPI-B) who report to SAGE. What she finds is that fear was deliberately and specifically used to direct the behaviour of the population. Many of the advisors had deep misgivings about the morality and the ethics of the programmes, but never enough, it seems, to blow the whistle.

What is disturbing, to her, is the way the pattern mirrors that of a strict parent child relationship. 

During the Covid epidemic, the UK government threated us with longer lock-downs or tougher restrictions if we misbehaved, and rewards such as the rule of six or garden meetings were dangled in front of us if all went well. The relationship between government and citizen is reminiscent of a strict parent and child relationship, with alternating use of the naughty step and then offering sweets for good behaviour. Citizens were not treated like adults. We were told frightening ‘Bedtime stories’ everyday via the news and Downing Street briefings to ensure compliance with a set of everchanging and sometimes bizarre rules. 

“The weaponization of fear is a particularly destabilising tactic in the behavioural psychology toolbox

because it clouds our judgement, which in turn increases reliance on government, which then creates more fear, which paralysis us further, creating a self-perpetuating doom-loop.”

Naomi Wolfe goes further and puts it more graphically, in a recent interview, when she described it as an abusive domestic relationship where the partner, invested with the power, teases, controls, humiliates and infantilises the victim caught in a horrendous trap of dependency.

One of the SPI-B advisors explained this, as it related to mask wearing: “There is a behavioural science ‘reason’ for wearing masks, to increase a sense of collectivism. This is the feeling favoured by the psychologists that is entirely unrelated to the scientific evidence regarding transmission. Essentially, they want us to feel like we are ‘in it together’” So there you have it, from the horse’s mouth, so to speak.

Another from the same group explained “People are passive and biddable. A lot of people don’t question. Their thinking is shaped by other people, especially the media and social media and that is a dangerous thing. As a society we are set up to encourage a passive and biddable population.”

Throughout the book she slots in short interviews with ordinary people she meets on the way. They don’t make the story but illustrate it and they are exactly the stories I hear from individuals caught up in it all, bewildered, frustrated, frightened.

The bleak prospect in the end is the death of freedom “We seem to have forgotten that no one is safe. You have never been safe and you never will be. Nor will I. In the blind global panic of an epidemic we have forgotten how to analyse risk. If you don’t accept that you will die one day, that you can never be safe, then you are a sitting duck for authoritarian policies which purports to be for your safety. If too many individuals immolate their liberty for safety, we risk a bonfire of freedoms.”

Frank Furedi set the ground work for this analysis in his significant piece “How fear works, culture of fear in the twenty first century” and he explains how, from an early age, people are encouraged  “to become preoccupied with their safety and to regard being fearful as a sensible and responsible orientation towards the world”  While in another time, it would be assumed that our response to threats would be in accordance with virtues such as wisdom, courage, moderation, justice and duty, now it is considered virtuous to adopt the technique of “risk assessment” and “powerlessness, fragility and vulnerability are the characteristics that resonate with the current representation of personhood.”  

But an authority which deliberately and calculatingly creates a climate of fear amongst the population are playing with fire. Once the heather is lit it is not so easy to put out, no matter how many jackets are ruined in the process. A frightened population may act in quite unpredictable ways. There may be compliance for a time but things can suddenly turn and fear can quickly morph into rage. Who knows how an otherwise biddable populace will react when they discover that they were deceived and the devastating and prolonged restrictions were quite unnecessary and achieved nothing. Their belief may will be resilient while so much is invested in it, but with a crisis of faith, things could get ugly.

A government’s intentional employment of fear also betrays the fact that they themselves are fearful: fearful of losing their popularity, fear of failure, fear of not doing or acting quickly enough, fear of losing power and ultimately, fear that the people may rise up and destroy their masters. Those who live by fear die by it. History shows that dictators and despots never know when to give up. They never leave when there is a window for a peaceful exit. Instead, they cling on to the bitter end, to face the rope and get the bullet.

Critically,  the weaponization of fear breaks down trust, trust that may have taken centuries to build, and when trust is destroyed it is hard to know where, as a society, we can go.

Crawford Mackenzie

A Baby Boomer Resolves

A good friend of mine has a philosophy, quite a common one I think, that if you can’t do anything about a problem you should not spend any time worrying about. “It’s silly”, he would say, “to get all stressed out, tied up in knots and agitated about what governments and politicians do when you can’t really change a thing. Making your own stand would be little more than a pointless gesture and your sacrifice would change nothing.” It makes a lot of sense of course. But then, the trouble is, as I responded to him, if you carry any sense of responsibility, especially for the future generations, you just can’t just brush it off. It spirals out from your responsibility to the folk you love, your family, the community and the world. If you have just a hint, a half-formed vision, some feeling for where we are likely to be heading and you know it’s not good, you have a duty to speak out. There is a time to speak and a time to be silent and I think this is the time to speak.

My sense is that in 2020 we have crossed the Rubicon and while it may be interesting to dig over how and why we got to where we are, none of what we find will change the past. What we have is the present and this is where we live and this where we do and say things which may in a small way have some influence for good. The future belongs to others. It is not a concept it is a reality but we are seldom ever given a vision of what it will be. There are of course prophets but there are false prophets too and sometimes it will only take time to discover which is which.

What I grapple with is the strong conviction that we are coming into a time of trouble which we have never seen for more than half a century. I have the uneasy feeling that we are not prepared for it and we have not prepared the next generation for it either. So, in what little time we have left, I feel a heavy burden to do what we can to prepare those who follow for a different world than the one we have known.

I don’t think it is a matter of imparting a strategy, setting out an approach, adopting a policy, or even offering advice. There could be lots of advice we could offer though. One thing would be to learn not to be dependant on what is given, another to think for yourself, (gosh I am beginning to sound like Jordan Peterson) to question perceived wisdom, to be as wise and serpents and as harmless a doves, to hold on to and guard what we know is true, to see that things are not what they seem, to find out and discover what the ancients said and to seek wisdom because it is more precious than any other thing. But I was never much into dishing out unsolicited advice and don’t intend to start now.

I was struck, however, on hearing about the Jesuit priest Tomislav Kolakovič who taught in Bratislava towards the end of the second world war. He recognised that Stalin’s red army would soon be victorious in the east and while others would be soon rejoicing at the demise of Hitler and the end of fascism, he recognised that Stalin’s soviet empire would present an even darker spectre and inevitably lead to the persecution of Christians. He also knew that the established church would not be able to withstand communism but would acquiesce with the authorities and be controlled be their new masters, which was, in fact, what happened. So he went about teaching young Slovak believers and establishing cells of faithful Catholics, entreating them to give themselves totally to Christ and to resist evil, so that when the time came they would be prepared to stand. These cells and groups were not only gatherings for prayer, study and fellowship but became the centres for underground dissidents active in the eventual overthrow of communism in the velvet revolution. 

There may well be a parallel in the situation we face today. The similarities may be stronger than we care to believe. The march of soft totalitarianism is hard to ignore and maybe the best we can offer is to prepare for the dissident life.  That’s not an easy thing to do, especially as all that we, as baby boomers, have known is a culture of comfort and ease, a general trusting in truth, a time when wisdom, integrity, justice and compassion were the virtues we valued and aspired to and a baseless belief that things will work out ok in the end. Learning to live in a different way will be challenging. Learning to live within the law without aligning yourselves to the spirit of it will require a sea change inattitude. It will compel what Solzhenitsyn called “Personal non-participation in lies.”  “Though lies conceal everything, though lies embrace everything, we will be obstinate in this smallest of matters:  Let them embrace everything, but not with any help from me.”

Am I being over excited? Is it all seriously over the top? Am I simply away on my own wee tuppeny thing? I don’t think so. If anything, the past year has shown us that we seem perfectly relaxed at trading in our personal freedom and responsibility for our health and security. For a peaceful life we have sacrificed our soul.   Solzhenitsyn puts it bluntly in his devastating 1974 essay “Live not by lies”

“And he who is not sufficiently courageous to defend his soul – don’t let him be proud of his ‘progressive’ views, and don’t let him boast that he is an academician or a people’s artist, a distinguished figure or a general. Let him say to himself: I am a part of the herd and a coward. It’s all the same to me as long as I’m fed and kept warm.”

Crawford Mackenzie

Indignity in Death

I didn’t need to see the picture. I saw it in my mind the solitary figure, decked in black, sitting in the ancient chapel, masked and distanced and silenced as she watched the physical remains of her husband of seven decades, being lowered into a hole in the ground beneath the stone floor. Somehow it was a picture like no other, which epitomises the dreadful end of an era.

My concerns were not for her. Even in this enforced humiliation she retained her dignity. I have no doubt that her spirit would rise above all that. Nor were my concerns for the thousands of others who have had to face the same indignity in the loss of those they loved, over the past year, including some who are close friends. My concerns were for the ones who devised the plan and wilfully manipulated a compliant population in adopting, almost without question, the foolishness of the charade.

I would not like to have been Boris Johnstone or his advisors or the other leaders falling in his train, watching on their screens, following the spectacle, aware of their role in forcing the sovereign, who had seen out thirteen prime ministers, to endure this pitiful spectacle. I wonder if the cruelty of it even crossed their minds or if they ever felt any shame. I suspect not, but it was a shameful thing that they had done.

The triple lock, enforced mask wearing, distancing and the banning of singing at services of all kinds strangles the very life from such occasions and in the face of death makes it especially bitter. It could only be the coldness and cruellest of hearts not to see what this means for a grieving relative. That moment in time, that would never be recovered or retrieved: when they most needed their close family to be close, when they needed that comforting arm around them, when they needed to see that reassuring sympathetic and familiar face, when they so needed to be reminded of the truth that death is not the end and be able to sing, with the congregation, the songs of faith.  That moment senselessly and cruelly taken from them.

The government should have gone the whole hog, banned all funerals, instructed local authorities to dispose of the dead as they saw fit and put out a nice thing on zoom.

Maybe they don’t feel any shame, but I do.

Let us reflect

A “National day of reflection” is to be held on the 23rd March to remember the 125,000 people in the UK, who have died with coronavirus during the out-break. It is strange that, when this episode is constantly being referred to as a war, we are thinking of remembrance before the battle is ended and when victory is not yet secured or even in sight. Still, anytime is a good time to reflect.

So let us reflect on the lives that we have not been able to save. Let us reflect on all the other lives we have lost over this year, the deaths to accidents, to cancer and heart disease, to murder and suicide. Let us reflect on the women who have died at the hands of men. Let us reflect on the lives we have cancelled before they were even born, who have no names that we can recite. Let us reflect on the lives lost to our dalliance with narcotics.  Let us reflect on the suicides we have assisted and helped by designating these last journeys as essential.

Let us reflect on why we abandoned the DHSSPS’s (2011) common sense and proportionate plan to prepare for a pandemic in favour of an untried mass experiment with people’s lives.  Let is reflect on why the lessons from Exercise Cygnus in 2016 were never learned.

Let us reflect on the fear we have propagated and the hope that we have extinguished

Let is reflect on the harms that we have triggered and inadvertently caused by our asinine restrictions, our incompetence and our bungling micro mismanagement:

  • slowing of baby’s development without essential and natural human contact,
  • incarcerating disabled children without formal education,
  • stunting children’s learning with the loss of a year in a critical time in their lives,
  • damaging the tender lives of fostered children, the babies taken from their mothers at birth and trapped without human contact other than a carer for months on end,
  • aggravating mental health of the population in general, but the young, the single and the isolated in particular,
  • denying essential medical treatment and early diagnosis of those with serious health conditions,
  • depriving people of the dignity of work and the dark spectre of unemployment,
  • de-motivating workers by paying them to stay at home and do nothing,
  • robbing young people’s right to associate with their peers, make friends and find life partners,
  • taking away the health-giving benefits of playing sport, singing together, joining bands, clubs, sharing in worship and all the natural social interactions that make life meaningful,
  • spawning suspicion of our neighbour,
  • undoing long established community spirit,
  • starving the preciousness of face-to-face contact,
  • condemning old people isolated and confused to die lonely deaths in care homes,
  • destroying businesses and livelihoods with the prospect of a collapsed economy and a third world country status,
  • pushing back on the advances made in the environment, with the wrecking of public transport systems and the dumping mountains of PPE in land fill sites,
  • suppressing legitimate dissent and protest,
  • surrendering our freedom.

Let us reflect and consider if all that was worth it.

Crawford Mackenzie

Desert Island Books

1 Life and Fate Vasily Grossman

Linda Grant who wrote an introduction to a new edition of Vassily Grossman’s “Life and fate” translated by Raymond Chandler, said that it took her three weeks to read the book and three more to get over it.  It took a lot longer for me to read and I am still recovering.

There is something enduringly magisterial about this epic novel, regarded by some as the finest Russian novel of the twentieth century. In its 800 or so pages it covers what must be the bleakest period in this great nation’s history under the brutality of the soviet and fascist systems.  But it is not a book with a message in the classic sense of the word. The great tyrannical ideologies are almost footnotes in this beautifully woven human story of individual lives caught up in the bizarrest and ugliest of situations and yet somehow demonstrating the integrity of the human spirit, something that the terrible might of evil forces are unable to fully crush. So it is a story of hope. It is also a story of great tenderness.

It moves through Stalingrad on the banks of the Volga, the street by street fighting and the encircled division in building 6/1, to the middle-class home of the scientist and his laboratory comrades. We are in the interrogation rooms, the death camps and the gas chambers. We follow the Führer, though the woods and Stalin is on the line. We travel with the tank corps and the retreating sagging armies.  There are the Russian, the Germans, Armenians, Ukrainians  and the Jews, the Bolsheviks and fascists, All the time the ghost of 1937 is eerily present casting its dark shadow over the conversations and memories and everywhere there is the relentless struggle between the big ideas and the reality of what is happening on the ground.

It is a quite beautiful and inspiring tale.

Much of the novel rotates around Victor Pavlovich, a middle-class theoretical physicist in a power struggle with his colleagues and stressed in his fraught relationships with his wife and daughter, complicated by a secret liaison. Much of his torture, however, was over the conflict between his loyalty to his work, to the purity of science and where it conflicts with the Leninist view of the nature of matter. His careless comments taken out of context, get him into trouble and are used by his enemies to ensure his downfall. In the process of administering his disciplinary case, he has to complete a massive questionnaire which seeks to garner any hint of anti-revolutionary thought or taint. Any connection or sympathy for the exiles or of the purged of 1937 will mean certain exile. When he notes the most casual of links with someone who was arrested, he is seized with a feeling of irreparable guilt and impurity. He prepares to make his confession and He recalls a meeting at which a party member, confessing his faults had said “Comrades, I am not one of us”. It was when he sensed he had lost everything that he gets the call from Stalin. “I wish you success in your work” is the one affirmation that changes everything. The actual work is not defined and only referred to obliquely “A new shadow, still faint and mute, barely perceptible, now hung over the ravaged earth, over the heads of the children and old men. No-one knew of it yet, no-one was aware of the birth of a power that belonged to the future”  (page 751)

There is Grekov the crude but likeable commander of the division in the encircled house 6/1. While there was death and destruction all around he and his men take pity on an injured cat and care for it as it were a child.  The radio operator is the only female in this terrible place and she senses that sooner or later one of the men will make a pass at her. She somehow senses it will be the commander, by the way he looks at her, but she so much wants it to be the young poet Seryozha. Her hopes are dashed, however, when Seryozha is sent out on a raid. The raid, for some reason is cut short and he returns early. They spend the night snuggled up together in their lice ridden great coats and boots and she is still sleeping on his shoulder when the unit reforms in the morning. The commander announces that Seryohza is to be sent back to HQ. This will surely end the promising relationship but in a twist of surprising kindness Grekov tells the radio operator that she should go back too. She is not needed there anymore.  Later when the Commissar comes to relieve Grekov of his position, his unorthodox and anti-soviet tendences have become too much for the authorities, he ask after the radio operator.

“Are there any women in the building?”

“Tell me, comrade Commissar, is this an interrogation?

“Have any men under your command been taken prisoner?


“Well where is that radio operator of yours?

Grekov, bit his lip and his eyebrows came together in a frown.

“The girl turned out to be a German spy.

She tried to recruit me

First I raped her then I had her shot”

He drew himself up to his full height and asked sarcastically

“Is that the kind of answer you want from me?

It’s beginning to seem as though I’ll end up in a penal battalion”

Then there is Sagaydak ruminating on his special role as a newspaper editor. “He considered that the aim of his newspaper was to educate the reader- not indiscriminately to disseminate chaotic information about all kind so probably fortuitous events. In his role as editor Sagaydak might consider it appropriate to pass over some event: a very bad harvest, an ideological inconsistent poem, a formalist painting, an outbreak of foot and mouth disease, an earthquake, or the destruction of a battleship. He might prefer to close his eyes to a terrible fire in a mine or a tidal wave that had swept thousands of people off the face of the earth. In his view these events had no meaning and he saw no reason why he should bring to the notice of readers, journalist and writers. Sometimes he would have to give his own explanation of an event: this was often boldly original and entirely contradictory to ordinary ways of thought. He himself felt that his power, his skill and experience as an editor were revealed by his ability to bring to the consciousness of his readers only those ideas that were necessary and of true educational value.”

Novikov the tank comander looks at his men and his heart is warmed:“One soldier was singing; another, his eyes half closed, was full of dire foreboding; a third was thinking about home; a forth was chewing some bread and a sausage and thinking about the sausage; a fifth, his mouth wide open, was trying to identify a bird on a tree; a sixth was worrying about whether he’d offended his mate by swearing at him the previous night; a seventh, still furious was dreaming about giving his enemy – the commander of the tank in front- a good punch on the jaw; an eight was composing a farewell poem to the autumn forest; a ninth was thinking about a girl’s breasts; a tenth was thinking about his dog sensing that she was about to be abandoned among the bunkers; an eleventh was thinking how good it would be to live in a hut in the forest drinking spring water, eating berries and going about bare foot; a twelfth was wondering whether to feign illness and have a rest in hospital; a thirteenth was remembering a fairy- tale he had heard as a child; a fourteenth was remembering the last time he had talked to his girl- he felt glad that they had now separated for ever: a fifteenth was thinking about the future- after the war he would like to run a canteen.

‘Yes’ thought Novikov, ‘They’re fine lads’ “

When Getmanov leaves for the front and has to say goodbye to his family: “He held his hand to his chest, afraid that his booming heart-beats would disturb the children. He felt a piercing ache of tenderness, anxiety and pity for them. He desperately wanted to embrace his son and daughters and kiss their sleeping faces. He was overwhelmed by a helpless, tenderness, an unreasoned love; he felt lost, weak and confused.

He wasn’t in the least worried or frightened at the thought of the new job he was about to begin. He had taken on many new jobs, and he had never any difficulty in finding the right line to follow. He knew it would be the same in the tank corps. But how could he reconcile his unshakable, iron severity with this limitless tenderness and love?

In the corridor he said goodbye, kissed his wife for the last time and put on his fur coat and cap. Then he stood and waited while the driver carried out his suitcases.“Well then” he said – and suddenly stepped up to his wife, removed his cap and embraced her once more. And this second farewell – with the cold damp air off the streets slipping in through the half-open door and blending with the warmth of the house, with the rough, tanned hide of his coat touching the sweet-scented silk of her dressing gown- this final farewell made them feel that their life, which had seemed one, had suddenly split apart. They felt desolate.”

When we think we can’t bear any more we are taken with Sofya Levinton and a young boy David, she has linked hands with, into the darkest hole of the century, yet, even here, humanity shines through. She is as a medic and could have escaped the gas chamber but chose to go with her people and with motherly instincts, though herself a virgin, took the boy’s hand and kept him beside her until he collapsed by her side.

“ Sofya felt the boy’s body subside in her arms. Once again she had fallen behind him. In mine shafts where the air becomes poisoned, it is always the little creatures, the bird’s and mice, that die first. This boy, with his slight, bird-like body, had left before her. “I’ve become a mother” she thought. That was her last thought. Her heart, however, still had life in it: it contracted, ached and felt pity for all of you, both living and dead; Sofya felt a wave of nausea. She pressed David ,now a doll, to herself; she became dead, a doll.”

But we are also on the other side with Anton Khmelkov as he expresses his disgust at his co-worker Trofima Zhucheko in his attitude to the gruesome work of closing the hermetically sealed doors. Trofima looked happy and even excited by his work marshalling the columns of prisoners from the railway.

“ What Khmelkov didn’t understand was that it wasn’t Zhuchenko’s greater guilt that made it so disturbing. What was disturbing was that Zhuchenko’s behaviour could be explained by some terrible, innate depravity – whereas he himself was still a human being. And he was dimly aware that if you wish to remain a human being under fascism, there is an easier option than survival – death.”

Towards the end of the story the German company Commander Lenard, following his ragged army in retreat, comes, in the evening, upon a group of his men hacking meat from a frozen dead horse while others in a ruined building were gathered round a fire and a blackened cauldron while a cook prodded the meat with his bayonet

“The light of the evening can reveal the essence of a moment. It can bring out its emotional and historical significance. Transforming a mere impression into a powerful image. The evening sun can endow patches of soot and mud with thousands of voices; with aching hearts we sense past joys, the irrevocability of loss, the bitterness of mistakes and the eternal appeal of hope.

It was like a scene from the Stone Age. The grenadiers, the glory of the nation, the builders of the new Germany, were no longer travelling the road to victory. Lenard looked at these men bandaged up in rags. With poetic intuition he understood that this twilight was the end of a dream.

Life must indeed conceal some strangely obtuse internal force. How was it that the dazzling energy of Hitler and the terrible power of a people moved by the most progressive of philosophies had led to the quiet banks of a frozen Volga, to these ruins, to this dirty snow, to these windows filled with the blood of the dying sun, to the quiet humility of these creatures watching over a steaming cauldron of horsemeat?”

The futility and inevitable demise of all the worlds kingdoms is finally revealed. The utter stupidly and folly of believing that by our skill our dexterity, our ideas, our wisdom our solidarity and our determination we can build a heaven on earth, is inevitably laid bare in time. It is the truth that history always teaches us and one we fail to learn. All that is left, as Grossman sees it, is the individual, their tenacious hold on hope and their modest peculiarities expressed sometimes in inexplicable acts of human kindness.

In my desert island I would want to be reminded of the beauty of the individual and our shared humanity.

A Baby Boomer regrets

Sometimes I feel deeply ashamed at my own generation, the baby boomers, I mean.

It is a terrible generalisation, I know, but it is true that we have never had it so good.  We didn’t know war other than in far off places. While in early years things could, by today’s standards, be spartan, we had enough to live on and we could see the steady growth in wealth, comfort and convenience with a spirit of optimism that things were on a general trend upwards. We thought that was a given. We had education and it was free. We learned to read and write and count and think things out for ourselves. We had the sense that if you were reasonably bright and worked hard, the opportunities were immense. You could pick your career path. If you scored on the results you could go to college and the state paid your fees and provided you with a grant. It was real money and it could buy things. When you reached the end of your course and graduated you could choose where you wanted to work. There was the astonishing advances in medicine and the health of the population. You could live longer, into your 70’s and 80’s with a level of fitness unknown to those who went before. There was structure and order and you generally believed that the authorities were benevolent, could be trusted and had your best interests at heart. Above all there was a sense of freedom. Provided you avoided what was specifically prohibited, you could do what you wanted. Yes, there was social mores and traditions as well as stigmas but generally you were free. We never had it so good and we took it all for granted.

Now, in a few short years, a few careless decades, we have thrown it all away. Turns out we didn’t do all that well with what we have been given and what we have bequeathed to our children is of questionable value. Most of the framework of our society has slowly been dismantled, the baby with the bathwater, in the long march through the institutions and the theft of individual freedoms, those freedoms that were fought for and died for, carelessly frittered away, sold off for a mess of convenience, comfort and an easy life. It’s been going on for quite a wee while and we’ve hardly noticed it, so when it came to the final push, the final turn of the screw, the time when the liberties we thought we had would be taken away from us, it was done in a stroke, in the fog of a pandemic, under the cover of a heath crisis.  We didn’t believe it would be possible and we still don’t believe it. Most people I speak to think that once this is over, we will get back to normal. No, we won’t. Those in charge have made that clear. This is not a conspiracy theory.  They have told us. It will be the “new normal” and if we didn’t know what the “new normal” will be, well we know now.

Time was when the rule of law could be understood, when the individual was free to make their own choices, movements and associations in the clear knowledge that there were certain lines where certain actions were prohibited and a transgressor would face the consequences of flouting them. The law applied to everyone and no one was above it. In other words, you were free to do what you wanted, write want you wanted and say what you wanted within clearly defined boundaries. Now it has flipped to a controlled society when you are only allowed to do what is permitted and what is permitted is decided, it could be said, by a small number of elites with almost no effective scrutiny. Why, before embarking on some perfectly normal human activity, quite sensible people will now ask “ Are we allowed to do this”.  On the face of it, you could say there is no difference between the two systems. It sounds a matter of semantics, but there is a world of difference. One is freedom the other is tyranny.

I fear that what we are bequeathing the next generation will be a cross between a third world country and a socialist nightmare. The only people who seem to see this are those who have experienced it. The people I have met in Africa, Peru, Nepal and Haiti who know what it is like to live in a country where the focus of each day is survival understand this. My friends from Poland, Slovakia, Hungary and Romania, whose parents experienced life under authoritarian regimes, understand it too.

Now I could be wrong. I could be quite wrong. It could be that when the curse of the virus has past, we will return to the life we knew before and continue on our path through the sunlit uplands to our promised land. But I am not counting on it. There are dark days ahead and I feel ashamed at what we have done.

This is the Time

We didn’t get round to doing it, but we had a plan to put a jar in the middle of the table for our evening meal with our international family and every time someone mentioned covid, they would have to drop a coin in. If we did, we could probably have paid for 3 new nightingale hospitals by now, though it turns out that they haven’t been much use despite the £220m price tag.It’s a good time for dodgy deals and backhands. It’s a good time to bury bad news. But its also a good time to take stock and make resolutions and mine, in the coming year, will be to speak no more of viruses and lock-downs, of self-isolating, social distancing, and transmission and these arrrgh rates. Data, Percentages and graphs will be out too. But before then, with a few hours left, it would be good to look back and see if we can make any sense of what happened in this year. This then, by definition, is my personal view. Inevitable there are more questions than answers.

The Barmy Professor

One of the most interesting characters in the whole episode is Professor Neil Ferguson who gave a revealing interview to the Sunday Times last week.  He had disappeared off the scene for a while, following his “error of judgement”, but now back in the centre among the coterie of advisers with the ear of government. He was apparently told to keep a low profile until the thing had blown over, which says so much of how important he must have been to the decisionmakers. It was what he said about how they came to the idea of nationwide lock-down, that was so telling.  They saw how the Chinese had adopted it first in Wuhan and later across the country but they didn’t think such a method would work in a western democratic society. Astonishingly it seemed to work in Italy and so could be tried out here too. So, this was how the mass psychological, economic & social experiment was launched on an unexpecting population, without any real idea of where it would lead or if it would in fact work. It had never been done before and while there was, and is, no evidence that it had any effect, it had to be the only way and so it became the only way. The decision was a binary one. Either this or let the virus rip, our hospitals will be overwhelmed and thousands will die. At the early stage the Prime Minister was unsure and hinted that, while it was done in other nations, this was not how we did things here. We don’t coerce the population in this way, we respect the people and always assume that they would act responsibility. But for whatever reason, he wobbled and the rest is history.

The Lapsed Believer

Having grown up with a more or less general respect for authority, with the feeling that those who knew all the facts, those who understood the reality of what we were facing, those who were intelligent and experts in their field, would be best placed to make the proper decisions and I should go along with that. It might be a military response to terrorism or austerity to a financial crisis. What did I know about viruses, pandemics, terrorism or economics after all? Yet, I was not totally naïve. I knew that politicians have their own agenda and their own self-interest, and like the rest of us are proud, lustful and prone to corruption and deceit, but on those big issues, I had to trust that they would get it right and I would, in the end, give them the benefit of the doubt.  That was what I believed at the start and I suspect most people felt the same. And so, the first weeks and early months of lock-down were rolled out and, for me it was a welcome sabbatical. It was warmth and light and green in the spring and early summer with birdsong and clear blue skies. There was time with family and new pursuits there was a wholesome feeling that maybe this was a good thing. Goodness me it may even be the answer to global warming and climate change.  In reality, however, it was little more than a middle-class indulgence, all the sounds of destruction havoc and the crumbling of society were out of earshot. Isolated in your own cocoon, the sights of suffering were kept conveniently out of sight.  We were kept separate from the horrors of single parents with difficult children cooked up in tiny flats when the playgrounds were chained off.  We didn’t realise how close so many were to a mental health disaster when isolation would tip them over the edge. We didn’t think what the long term effects of wholesale house arrest would do to a population. There were dissident voices, of course, but they were the lunatic fringe – the David Ickes and the Piers Corbyns of this world, the rabid Brendan O’ Neil, the doom merchant Peter Hitchens and the wacky James Delingpole. But with each week, as the thing progressed, as the goal posts moved, as the serious voices, many from the scientific community and the legal profession, starting articulating another different and compelling story, one which was pretty much side-lined and silenced when it could be, my doubts grow and my trust dissolved. The long spiral downwards increased with the wilder claims, the overegging of the statistics the graphs and the gobbledegook, the ladling on of fear, the more and more bizarre restrictions, the ludicrously unachievable aim of controlling a virus, and the absolute unquestionable righteousness of the cause.  I started to see that those guys on the fringe turned out to be right all along, and I was wrong.

The Supine Mass

Without really taking it in, we were being progressively dehumanised and infantilised and like the boiling frog we didn’t realise what was happening before it was too late. This phenomenon is very hard to explain or understand. Why is it that perfectly intelligent people can resort to following crazy and foolish half thought up rules that turn common sense completely on its head? One of the most bizarre concerns someone we knew who called on a friend recently and suggested going for a walk. While they lived a short distance from each other the council boundary divided them and the law prohibited moving from a level three zone even if into another of the same level. They did decide, however, to have their walk, but as the boundary ran up the middle of a road, and to keep to the rules, they ended up walking on opposite pavements and carrying on a disjointed conversation across the traffic. Despite the stupidity our friend went along with it not to upset her companion. This sounds like a crazy made-up tale, but it was true.   Why is it that sensible and reasonable people, not only follow the rules, but go way beyond them?  I am thinking of mask wearing in the street and the open air.  Do people like the feel of breathing their own CO2? Have they just forgotten to take it off after leaving the shop? Is it a fashion statement? Is it a badge or a statement of solidarity? Who knows?

The Great Conundrum

From the beginning I have wrestled with this one. How is it that, in the face of an unparalleled assault on personal freedom, the people who I thought would be the ones who would defend that freedom, to the death, if need be, had suddenly become quiet and compliant?  Why were they so relaxed when a right wing and a nationalist government used fear to control the population in an astonishingly effective way and why were no alarm bells ringing? That fear-monger was the official policy, as it was in Germany, is now clear. Where did the rebels and the activists go when democracy morphed into authoritarianism? I have no easy answer. Perhaps they were never really true rebels. Perhaps they had a secret liking for authority. Perhaps they believed that totalitarianism was the only way that utopia could be achieved and that perhaps it needed a worldwide system of control to bring about the long sought-after world where peace and justice would reign and the planet saved from disaster? If so covid-19 might just be the thing to usher in this new normal and the great reset.

The World-wide Phenomena

One of the most persuasive arguments that would convince you that lock-down was the only proper response to the pandemic and the most difficult one to reason with, if you were against it, was the fact that almost all nations adopted the same principle.   They can’t all be wrong, could they?  But truth is, yes, they could all be wrong.  If, however, we start to see possible collusion and coordination between governments over this, we are into the area of conspiracy theories and dark forces.  That’s pretty hard to swallow and yet, and yet we can’t shake the feeling that we have not heard the whole story and there is something that they are not telling us, possibly for fear that it would create a mass panic. The possibility that it could be a military grade virus leaked from some research facility is still perfectly credible.

The Bleak New Year

Unlike all the positive things people were saying with comments in Christmas cards that came through our door, I couldn’t buy into the prospects of a bright future once this “horrible” year was out of the way. The great war was meant to be over by Christmas, this one is set to have no ending. I can’t get excited about the vaccine either. The way it was heralded as the great saviour was disturbing and equally disturbing how soon the caveats were pulled out: It might not stop you getting the virus, it might not stop you spreading it, it hasn’t been tested on pregnant women, it shouldn’t be given to people who might have an allergic reaction, it hasn’t yet been licensed and, the most disturbing one, the manufactures are immune from prosecution if anything goes wrong. Not exactly something to fill you with confidence. So, the prospects for a New Year are pretty bleak and it is hard to be positive about, or get a good feeling about where this is all leading. In Scotland, we have elections in May but politically there is no other voice, no real opposition here nor in Westminster and no genuine party willing to stand and say “This must stop”. No one with any power is willing to shout “This should never be tried again”. The Church, where hope should shine, reimains strangely quiet.  

So as the hours and minutes tick away, (it’s already New Year in Christmas island), the streets eerily quiet and the only sound we hear is the crumbling of hope in the face of crippling debt, the loss of thousands of businesses, mass unemployment, stunted education and the terrible damage of this awful experiment, it is time for action. It is time for resolve and for devotion. And my new year’s resolution? It can be only one thing. It is to pray and devote myself to pray, to encourage others to pray alone or together, in groups or two and three, and not to give up until the earth is filled with the knowledge of God as the waters cover the sea.  

Crawford Mackenzie