20th Century History
Revisited, No.23
The Cuban Missile Crisis History, even as recent history
as the Cuban Missile Crisis of 1962, is not always what it
seems. Conventional wisdom is that it was a show down between
Kennedy (John Fitzgerald, a k a 'JFK') and Khrushchev (Nikita
Sergeyevich) over the placing of Russian missiles on the island
of Cuba which had gone through its revolution with the overthrow
of Batista just three years before and the coming to power
of Fidel Castro. At risk was a nuclear war which would decimate
millions of people and potentially ruin the world. But new
information has been coming to light with the opening up of
Soviet-era archives and as we are able to exclusively reveal
(see paper by M Stroganoff forthcoming in the Bulletin of
the European Academy of Cold War History, Vol. 7 No. 3) the
truth is very different.
The problem begins with linguistics and particularly
the US American pronunciation of 'missile' as 'missal'. This
means that 'missal', as pronounced in US English, can mean
either a projectile of war carrying explosives or a Catholic
mass or service book. This is where a massive misunderstanding
began.
When John F Kennedy heard that the Russians
were placing 'missals' in Cuba he heard weapons of war and
not Catholic service books, whereas it should have been the
other ways around. When he was subsequently alerted to the
fact that there was a massive misunderstanding he a) did not
wish to admit his mistake and be made look like an eejit,
and b) as a 'good' Irish American Catholic (his image may
even yet grace a side chapel in the Catholic Cathedral in
Galway) he was rather concerned about what the Russians were
up to and whether they were going to be subverting Cuban Catholics
by 'communising' Catholic thinking. The Russians insisted
that giving the missals was a friendly gesture to a majority
Catholic country that was very short of such books and that,
since the death of comrade Stalin, they had not been really
concerned with scientific atheism any more anyway; CIA intelligence
supported this assessment of events.
So when the Russians heard that JFK was threatening
immediate and terrible nuclear war if Russia did not withdraw
its 'missiles' from Cuba they were, not surprisingly, rather
mystified. When they worked out what was really happening,
they threatened to blow the lid on the whole affair and reveal
it was actually a huge misunderstanding on the part of JFK
and the US of A. But then JFK promised terrible nuclear war
if they revealed it was about books and not weapons (maybe
the pen is mightier than the sword), the US wanted to still
play the big guy and not look exceedingly silly, and Khrushchev
decided to take the easy, and indeed humane, way out and pretend
that they were withdrawing 'missiles'. The missals were actually
withdrawn, shipped back to Moscow, pulped, and turned into
copies of Pravda (= 'truth' in Russian - though as the pulping
job wasn't done particularly well some readers were amazed
to see occasional religious words or snippets of prayers appearing
in their Communist newspaper).
So there you have it in a nutshell, the amazing
story of what really happened in 1962 when the world was on
the brink of nuclear war. Further details will appear in the
paper referred to above (the quarterly periodical, 'Bulletin
of the European Academy of Cold War History', which it appears
in is affectionately known by its diminutive name, 'Bull-Hist',
though more usually with the last four letters of this rearranged).
Next month: Genghis Khan's love of learning
and the quiet, peaceful life.
Dillying with the Dalai
My, my, doesn't time fly. At least when you're busy and/or
enjoying yourself. There was I in my first Colm in Nonviolent
News back in issue No.84, five years ago, reflecting on the
visit of the Dalai Lama to Norn Iron and here he was visiting
again in November. His visit this time included marking Corrymeela's
40th birthday and the official opening of Mediation Northern
Ireland's Belfast offices, among other gigs. The last visit
I issued advice on How to be Greatly Humble during the visit
of a Great Spiritual Leader [NN 84] this time I'll be less
profound [profane? - ed] and simply say he hasn't changed
a bit in 5 years.
It's not often St Anne's Cathedral (it proclaims
itself 'Belfast's Cathedral' despite the fact that there are
two in the city) in Belfast is full but it was for an inter-faith
service and meditation with the Dalai Lama, Tenzin [= Holder
of the faith] Gyatso [Ocean of wisdom]. One of the last people
to get in to St Anne's for the session there told me he couldn't
hear a thing in the back with the acoustics and outsiders
who hadn't got in (despite arriving twenty minutes before
start time) banging on the doors and windows - it must have
been disappointing not to have got in but acting like that
that doesn't sound in accord with the teachings of any of
the world's religions. Banging on drums and cymbals is in
for some but banging on the doors of an inter-faith meditation
service, I think maybe not.
One thing I am going to refer to here is the
process by which Llamo Dhondrub (his birth name) came to be
recognised as the 14th Dalai Lama, aged two. You can look
up the full story but the clear identification of items belonging
to the previous Dalai Lama, as well as being able to identify
the searchers, a couple of them by name, shows there was something
rather out of the ordinary going on - you choose what.
I found most of what I did hear him say elsewhere
in Belfast gently wise though some of it, purposefully or
not, a bit na‹ve. Maybe that's the prerogative of a
spiritual leader. But decidedly a strong nonviolent message,
for example recognising the humanity of the people who have
occupied his country for 46 years. He also had a telling eye
for detail; when a poem of his was to be read out in translation;
he spent a minute or two with the aide who would read it,
discussing how it would be translated - it was nice attention
to detail that showed he wasn't just going through the motions.
The official site for the Dalai Lama from the
Government of Tibet in Exile is at
http://www.tibet.com/DL/ but if you do a search for 'Dalai
Lama Northern Ireland' that will bring up more on his visit
to the Mral Oil.
Bested
I'm one of those people who might get caught up in watching
a sporting match if I'm there or it's on the television and
someone else is watching but I would not blink an eyelid if
the entire sporting fixtures of the universe disappeared into
a black hole. Sorry, sports fans. So I am just amazed at the
massive reaction to the final illness and death of George
Best, not just in his native Belfast and Norn Iron but in
Britain and around the world. He has been extremely ill before
but this time George was bested and the end had come. Between
his death and burial it was difficult to find any other news
than his life and death in some of Norn Iron's papers, and
even the British serious papers led with his death. The 'Belfast
Telegraph' turned all religious with a massive bold typeface
at the top of the front page saying 'Pray for him' during
his last illness (religion is the last resort of the scoundrel
in selling something). In fact in the period from 18th November
(he died 25th November) through to 5th December (the Monday
after he was buried) the 'Belfast Telegraph' had his dying/death
as a front page story (usually as top headline) every day
except one - and on that occasion (1st December) the contents
banner at the top, with a photo of him, referred to a George
Best feature inside. If the 'Belfast Telegraph' is what 'middle
Northern Ireland' might be thought to want to read, this is
totally OTT.
You can understand some of the reaction in the
North where he was undoubtedly the biggest personality/celebrity
to come from East Belfast, Belfast and Norn Iron itself (Ian
Paisley is also well known but people in Britain identify
him - Paisley - as having the most disliked voice). But the
reaction to Best's death was much wider than Northern Ireland,
with football matches in Britain having silence, applause,
or both. Inputting 'George Best' (in inverted commas) to my
computer search engine gave about 5,180,000 results! Maybe
he was one of the most naturally talented sports stars ever,
certainly in soccer/football, however that was a long time
ago and despite that, and all the escapades which he got into
fuelled by booze and switching from one woman to another to
another ad infinitum, people still seemed to love him, a sort
of loveable rogue and drunk. Even allegations/instances of
violence against his wife or partner, or drink driving, did
not destroy the image, or certainly not for long.
I'm still torn in trying to decipher all this.
Was it for his talent alone or the fact that people identified
with him, a sort of Princess Diana of the sporting field?
Was it this cult of personality, and once you were famous
in this way, or infamous, you were famous for life? I think
there are a variety of factors at work including the fact
that he was already a big media figure before his final illness,
and people identified with his life and death struggle which
was constantly relayed in the media (you would have needed
to be on Mars not to realise that George Best was dying or
dead). People who have contributed more to society in meaningful
ways, even former sports stars, die every week but they do
not get a thousandth this treatment. I think one deciding
factor was his natural, exuberant talent on the field decades
ago which meant that many middle-aged people (men) still remembered
him fondly, three and a half decades on. He was certainly
one of the first football superstars. While people sometimes
despaired of his behaviour it did not alter most people's
affection. And even if it did, the final come-uppance of illness
and death seemed to restore him to grace (he had obviously
been through his own personal hell).
At the end of the 'sixties/start of the 'seventies
he was also the only 'thing' about Northern Ireland that some
people could feel proud about as the North slipped into sectarian
chaos, and support for him was not on a sectarian basis. The
100,000 who went to Stormont for the funeral; or who lined
the route to there from his father's house, or from Stormont
to the graveyard, were also there because they felt it was
a little bit of history, sporting history perhaps but History,
with a capital 'H', nonetheless; many, many others were passively
'historical' by watching on their TV at home.
Looking at it from outside the sporting arena
I see a hedonistic lifestyle, a life lived for enjoyment,
but someone who destroyed relationships as well as creating
them, and prematurely destroyed his own body through the booze,
and a quiet sadness borne of his failure to overcome that
great western illness, alcoholism. The popular term on people's
lips seems to be 'flawed genius'. But I don't identify with
sports stars nor, indeed, too much with other heroes or gurus
[What about the DL above? - Ed] [A fine and holy man but he's
still not my guru - Billy].
I only wrote about George Best once before (in
2003, NN 114) [this is getting a bit like telling jokes by
numbers - Ed] when I contrasted George B*s* with George B*s*
and I will reprint my conclusion then: 'Both Georges are deeply
flawed individuals. But one is more a menace to himself and
his immediate loved ones than to anyone else. The other threatens
to wreak destruction to the world militarily and ecologically.
So come home George Best, all is forgiven; in a contrast between
the Georges, you win hands down.'
Men/Women
A recently published ESRI (Economic and Social Research Institute
in the Republic) came up with very different profiles for
men and women's days. Four items took up 520-odd minutes each
but there were big differences within this. Men spent an average
of 78 minutes commuting to work, women 57 minutes; women spent
151 minutes on caring activities and men only 34; men on the
other hand spent 346 minutes in employment or study and women
only 164; women had 156 minutes on household work and men
only 68. Quite a different pattern.
I don't claim to be the world's greatest house
cleaner - though I reckon I do my share - but I'll tell you
what I do enjoy and what most men may be missing. The daily
cooking. But cooking isn't just cooking, i.e. being creative
in the kitchen to give your loved ones or housemates an enjoyable
and nourishing meal, though that is important. All right,
everybody doesn't like everything all the time but it's a
challenge to make meals varied, balanced and enjoyable. But
cooking is much beyond this. It's quality time by myself to
process what has been happening during the day, a sort of
wind down (all right, I have to wind up again afterwards to
do something like write this Colm but still). It's also an
opportunity to listen to my favourite music or something new
and, if I fancy, to blast the kitchen with more decibels than
might strictly be good for me. Cooking and music together,
now that's what I call a really good menu. But the last part
of it may appeal to other men as well; if I do the cooking
then I get out of the washing and clearing up. And that can't
be bad. So come on men, get those apron strings tied (you
wouldn't want to get sauce on your work wear now, would you?).
Adolf Award Nominations
Yes folks, it's coming up to that time of (next) year again,
when we get to award our Adolfs, those magnificent awards
for Conspicuous Disservice to Peace (redeemable value .0000001
pence / .00000007 cents). They will appear in the next issue
of Nonviolent News (February, there's no January issue) so
nominations should be made by the end of January at the latest.
Please send by e-mail, letter, phone, fax, carrier pigeon,
hedgehog, telepathy (transmission not guaranteed), voice or
other means. Remember, there must be a deserving someone you
want to nominate for this anti-prestigious award who has excelled
themselves in disservice to humanity in the fields of peace,
ecology, politics, human wrongs etc. Vote early, vote often.
Maybe that's a topic for conversation over your Christmas
dinner - who would you nominate?
And that's me until well on into the new year,
2006 CE. I wish you a good break in the routine over Christmas
and the winter holidays [Northern hemisphere only - we do
have readers in the global south who I wish a happy Christmas
and summer to] and if you're the religious sort, in Dave Allen's
words, may your God go with you - Billy.
Who
is Billy King? A long, long time ago, in a more
innocent age (just talking about myself you understand),
there were magazines called 'Dawn' and 'Dawn Train'
and I had a back page column in these. Now the Headitor
has asked me to come out from under the carpet to write
a Cyberspace Column 'something people won't be able
to put down' (I hope you're not carrying your monitor
around with you).
Watch this. Cast a cold eye on life, on death, horseman
pass by (because there'll almost certainly be very little
about horses even if someone with a similar name is
found astride them on gable ends around certain parts
of Norn Iron).
