Lockerbie: business as usual

It was sometime in 1992 when the tape arrived on my desk. Before the days of plug-in hard disks and easy-use PCs, data would be recorded onto magnetic tapes which was loaded on massive reel-to-reel machines. The tape in question was on blue plastic, seven inches in diameter. The rim was heavily broken with the pieces being held in a plastic bag. The label was from a UK gas well and its original destination was head office in Houston. It never reached Texas because it was freight onboard Pan Am 103, flying on the night of the 21st of December, 1988.

It is odd how one can be just on the edge of large events such as Lockerbie. Seventeen years later, that feeling has returned to me. A couple of months ago I was in the Scottish Parliament when the First Minister, Alex Salmond, was being quizzed about the possible release of Abdelbaset Al Megrahi, the Libyan who was found guilty of the bombing. Despite assurances from Salmond that the decision would be left to the sole discretion of the Kenny MacAskill, the Scottish Justice Secretary, the First Minister’s word was widely disbelieved in the chamber. It is understood that Salmond rules the SNP with a rod of iron, with MacAskill been as likely to be able to act in a independent manner as the Westminster Cabinet would have been free to act under the leadership of Tony Blair. In other words, not very free at all.

Anyway, Al Megrahi is free now and at home. Both Salmond and Prime Minister Gordon Brown are swearing until blue in the face that it has nothing to do with oil contracts. Both must be confident that there is no “smoking gun” – nothing that can link the release to oil contracts. Of course, it is entirely coincidental that the UK is the major oil producer in Northern Europe, with most of the industry and jobs being based in Scotland. So my ears didn’t prick up at all when I was in a casual conversation this week, in a furniture store of all places, with a lady whose husband is also working in the oil industry. He is currently in Libya, planning a major new gas pipeline between North Africa and Europe.

This would make sense how? The obvious answer is Russia. Over recent winters, Putin and Medvedev have not been shy about using gas as a political and economic club to wield over the neighbours’ heads. Europe urgently needs another supplier.

America has been understandably outraged about all this. I would have more sympathy with their view if American companies had not continued to trade with Libya during the 1990s. It was widely known within the industry that a lot of business done under the Tunisian accounts was really work which originated in Libya. If managers were needed for a meeting in Tripoli, the road distance is about 500km; not a distance for a regular commute but close enough for an overnight stay. And yes, the authorities in the USA would have been aware of such activity. There seemed to be a fair amount of CIA activity when I was there.

Everybody will give lip-service to the victims and their families. But it looks like their needs are very much second-place to the real-politick of the situation. It may be that justice itself is completely absent. Not only is this a case of a convicted mass-murderer receiving mercy, there has always been doubts hanging over the conviction itself. It was claimed recently by a guest on the Today Programme that the sole eyewitness against Al Megrahi, the Maltese shopkeeper Tony Gauci, had subsequently been resettled in Australia under a new identity and had received payments from the US government to the value of seven million dollars. That is some witness protection scheme.

Seen in the rather ghastly light above, it is little wonder that Gordon Brown has been unwilling to speak on the matter. If it had been only this topic where he has attempted to keep silent, one would have been perhaps been more understanding. But recently Brown has been quiet on all subjects. This is a sign of a leadership dying on its feet. Brown has no new initiatives and can only react to events over which the Labour government is too tired to even attempt to manage.

Media commentators have been advising people to put on their cynical hats when dealing with the entire business. Sadly I cannot advise you any different.

Television Licensing

WARNING: THIS PROPERTY IS UNLICENSED

To the Legal Occupier,

We're writing to inform you that we have authorised Enforcement Officers to visit your home. If they find evidence that you are watching TV illegally, they can take your statement under caution with the relevant criminal law.

We are taking this step because:

• According to our records, there is no TV License for this address.
• You must have a TV License to watch or record television programmes as they're being shown on TV.
• We have tried to contact you about this, but have received no reply.

An enforcement visit is the first step in our action to seek prosecution. Please be aware that should your case go to court, your statement can be used as evidence. The maximum penalty is a fine of £1,000. We take this offence extremely seriously, and catch around 1,000 evaders every day.

We strongly advise that you act to stop our investigation by buying a TV Licence. You can do this in minutes by visiting www.tvlicensing.co.uk or by calling 0844 800 6720. A licence costs £142.50 for colour and £48 for black and white.

Yours faithfully,

Sarah Armstrong

Regional manager

Scotland East Enforcement Team

If you have recently moved home, please transfer your old TV Licence to your new address. You can do this at www.tvlicensing.co.uk/moving or by calling 0844 800 6720. Please have your TV Licence number to hand.

If you don't watch TV, please let us know by calling 0844 800 6720.

* * *

Dear Ms. Armstrong,

Normally at this point, I would take the opportunity to thank a correspondent for writing to me. In this case I am unable to do so. I am deeply offended by the tone of the letter that has been sent in your name.

When I bought the property in question on the 19th of June, there was already a letter from the Television Licensing agency on the doormat. This first letter already contained falsehoods: namely that there had been several previous attempts to contact the owners. How could this be when the house is a new-build dwelling, with no previous occupiers? Using the telephone number supplied however, I contacted a member of the television licensing staff to inform the organisation that nobody would be living in the house until mid-August, and that I would be in contact again when my television was moved from my current address.

That should have been the end of the matter. Instead, today I receive another and, to be blunt, a nasty, threatening letter which simultaneously manages to be inaccurate, self-justifying and bullying.

"We have tried to contact you about this, but have received no reply." This is a lie. I refuse to give you the benefit of the doubt because I contacted your organisation over a month ago. Just how long does it take for you to update your records? You have the temerity to threaten me with legal action because of your own incompetence? You advise me to purchase a television license in order to avoid a visit from Enforcement Officers? Send them round! Waste more taxpayers' money why don't you?

What I hate even more is that the letter assumes guilt and it is up to me to prove innocence. Just who do you think you are? You are a civil servant, working on behalf of the British people. You are not a member of the Stasi.

I have taken the liberty of posting your letter and my reply on my website and I am also bringing your tactics to the attention of the media.

I have no regards for you.

Martin Veart.

The Crisis of Politics in the United Kingdom

In his book, The Great Crash 1929, the economist J.K. Galbraith makes the observation that embezzlement is the one crime with a time lag. There is a period during which the victim is ignorant of the loss and the embezzler is profiting from his gain. Both are happy. It is only during economic hard times that the truth comes out. Galbraith has been yet again proved to be correct, both with our banking and political systems. At least one cannot make the criticism that successive governments have been hypocritical. Until this year, it has been a guiding principle of economic theory that self-regulation is good regulation. Members of the Westminster parliament applied this principle to themselves.

MPs’ pay has always been a problem in the public perception. In the 1980s, there were attempts to link the pay of MPs to that of civil servants. But automatic pay rises have never been popular, especially since it has been long-term government policy to hold down the level of pay for workers in general. I don’t need to remind you that on both sides of the Atlantic; the rich have become a whole lot richer while the main losers have been the middle classes. Of course, the majority of MPs come from the middle classes. As was vogue in the past decades, self-regulation provides opportunities to be creative with what earning potential is out there, with the obvious route being expenses.

It is for that reason that one sees a wide variation in the degree of abuse that members of parliament have inflicted upon the public purse. It ranges from no abuse whatsoever through to the potentially criminal. What is clear is that all members have had the opportunity, many have succumbed to temptation to some degree, sometimes with the result of looking ridiculous, but few have actually been venal.

If the degree of actual corruption has been low, why the massive public uproar? First of all, it is justified. Instead of getting to grips with the issue of pay and expenses, it is an issue that has consistently been avoided by the House of Commons, with reform often being blocked by vested interests. But that isn’t the main reason and let me illustrate the point with a little story.

As some of you may already be aware, I work offshore. My employer used to supply secure parking for the vehicles of those away. Some years ago, this was withdrawn with no alternative being supplied. When I went offshore, I therefore parked my car close to the main reception, in clear view of security. Nothing wrong with that except, as a protest, and against company policy, I did not reverse-park.
Upon my return, I was taken aside by Lachlan, one of the security staff, where I had to explain my vehicular positioning.
“Hmmm. I thought you were up to something Martin. Because you wouldn’t believe the amount of abuse that we have had to put up with. “Can’t you do something about that car?” “Get it towed away!” People were so angry! To them it looked like you were getting something they were not.”
This is the main factor. How often has one heard on recent phone-ins the charge “If I did that with my company I would get fired!” Our MPs have been found guilty of this, the gravest of charges: enjoying privileges, at our expense, which we as common people cannot hope to enjoy.
If true, this insight suggests that our MPs are “out of touch” with the rest of us in the United Kingdom. On one level, this cannot be correct. Our MPs meet with their constituents on a regular basis: listening to our problems and if possible, advising and helping us sort them out. So if many of them are remote, what makes them so?

It is certainly wrong to generalise but since the 1970s there has been the rise of a professional class of politician. Now, I wasn’t going to pick on individual MPs in this article but a great and an early example of this trend is Jack Straw, the current Minister for Justice. Unlike many other Labour MPs, he didn’t come through the union route to politics but became seriously involved in his university days, becoming President of the Students’ Union in 1969. Jack Straw practiced law in the early 1970s but most of his career has been political; working for Barbara Castle as a political adviser and effectively inheriting her seat when she decided to stand down in 1977. It is a pathway to the Commons that has been widely followed since.

For a House that is supposed to represent the whole spectrum of British life and population, a class of professional is not desirable. But wait a minute! Should not a politician be professional? Certainly yes, a person can act professionally on behalf of the people but that is not the same as being a professional politician. For instance, in the dreadful case of the murders of the two French students Laurent Bonomo and Gabriel Ferez, would have led an old-school politician such as William Whitelaw to offer his resignation. There has been no such offer from Jack Straw because, apart from being a back-bencher, what else can he really do? It’s been a very long time since he practiced any other trade. Another example is the current implosion of the Labour Party. MPs are railing against the late-night telephone calls coming from No.10 to constituencies of perceived rebels. As one of the targets, Barry Sheerman MP was on the Today Programme (Radio 4, 5th June), telling of an early morning telephone conversation with a local party member after that person had just been called from Downing Street, wishing for the local party to drag Sheerman in and, hopefully, start the de-selection process. It is hot-house politics: alien from most ordinary peoples’ experience.

And so we return to expenses. . Before that, an MP was allocated three thousand pounds (about £15,000 in today’s money) a year for London living and told to get on with it. The system of self-regulation has been going on since the 1980s so for the vast majority of parliamentarians, it is the only system they have known. And for some of those, it is the only real profession they have known too. Is it any wonder that a few sought to maximize their income and otherwise treat the public purse with negligence and even contempt?

There is a deeper reasoning however, which goes to the heart of how our society is ordered. Do we follow Plato’s vision, where we are all specialists, led by a specialist caste of politician? The alternative view is expressed by Aristotle who states that a man should not entertain the notion of entering politics until the age of thirty. In other words, to have worked a trade, become a parent, fought for the state and generally become a well-rounded citizen before standing for office.

With respect to the many young politicians currently active in all parties, some of which I know personally, in general I would suggest that Aristotle has it right.

Mumbai elections - the Excluded Vote

By Mumbaikar

Election Day is finally here. And no , I did not vote. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I was not allowed to. My name does not appear in the voter list despite several attempts to feature there.

"Did you vote?" I asked a few of my friends. Back came the reply - "No.. our names aren’t on the list." That made me realize I wasn’t the only one. Then as I switched on the News, the ticker read "Kashmiri Pundits lathi-charged on protesting their exclusion from voter list", whilst the screen flashed campaigns of eminent actors urging the youth to vote. Then it was all suddenly crystal clear to me- ‘secular’ politicians don’t want the Hindu vote to meddle in their filthy plans which is why they have figured out this clever way to ensure the ‘minority’ votes. Recently, Varun Gandhi (great-grandson of India's first prime minister Jawaharlal Nehru) was arrested for allegedly making "speeches with an intention to create enmity among people on the basis of religion." In short, for voicing his concern about the future of Hindus in this country also known as Hindustan. But nobody ever objects to the ruling party making pro- ‘minority’ speeches all the time. Hypocrites.

Then comes the issue of buying votes. I remember asking my dad once “Why do the poor come out in large numbers to attend a party leader’s speech? Why do they roam around all the day as part of political rallies? Don’t they have bigger things to worry about?
“Things like, “How do I earn money for my next meal ?” I had answered my own question. Free food, even clothing is handed out as a reward for the support.

Mumbai (South ) is the richest constituency in the country. But the middle class doesn’t care enough to vote. A good portion of the youth demographic is qualified and well educated. But all they want to do is leave the country in search of better prospects abroad (It’s unfair to complain of brain-drain unless something is done to retain these brilliant minds here). It’s commonplace to hear an engineer say ‘Iss desh ka kuch nahi hoga…vote karo ya na karo.. ‘ (This country will never change…whether you vote or not). For young India, politics is synonymous to a feeling of cynicism and disgust ..to a sense of apathy and powerlessness.

With every election that comes my way I can only hope that I get to cast my vote and pray for a better tomorrow.

This blog is from a guest writer. It should not be presumed that I share all or any of the views expressed in this feature.

Mumbaiker is a pseudomyn.

Day Trip to Jerusalem

It has to be said from the start. Our guide was a complete racist.

From when we first past the Arab village outside Caesarea, the first comments came about “dirty” Arabs. It is not the first time that taxi drivers comment on this. In fact, if I am in a car and it is daylight, every driver seems to be have a bad word for the place. So he was not the only one. But if there was an opportunity to pass a slight upon the neighbours, Jacob would take it up with gusto. Here is what I saw. Jisr Al Zarqa is indeed a bit of a dump. And the Israelis seem to use this example to foreigners to express their own superiority. I wish the locals knew about this and tidied the place, especially where it backs onto Highway 2.
We didn’t take the main highway into Jerusalem, rather the 433 back route, that eventually leads to Jerusalem from the north. Palestinians are banned from using this road. Fences and patrols would keep them off. Jacob pointed to the hills, saying that they are pretty but evidence of Palestinian arable backwardness. Or is it an example of how the Palestinians had been left only the most difficult land to farm? It wasn’t any value with arguing with Jacob though. I would learn more through listening. He was receiving nods of agreement from some of the Americans in the group though.

Picture from the highway, showing fence as we passed a Palestinian village. Some of the other fences were electrified.

Harsh limestone hillside terraces farmed by the Palestians.

Enough. I had to get this off my chest before describing the actual trip. Because Jerusalem is beautiful. As Jacob informed us, it was the British who passed the law stating that all the buildings in the city were to be built of the light cream limestone (apparently the one good thing we had done). Nowadays the modern buildings are just clad with the stone. It is very pleasing. We drove into East Jerusalem, parking on the Mount of Olives. I will describe the places and history as Jacob did. That is, I will not qualify statements with “in this of that tradition they say that such-and-such will happen or had happened here. Each rock in this place seems to have a story linked to it.

The cemetery on the Mount of Olives will be the site of the Last Judgement. Therefore all interned here will be the first to be resurrected and undergo judgement. To be buried here could be seen as a form of eternal queue-jumping, at the entirely reasonable cost of twenty thousand dollars. But the place gives a magnificent view over the Old City, with the golden Dome on the Mount, the site of Abraham’s attempt to sacrifice his most beloved son Issac at the behest of God. To the left, is the blue-grey dome of the Mosque of Al Aksa. This is where the Prophet Mohammed arrived in Jerusalem, flown on the back of a magical creature. It is the third most holy site in the Islam but is also the site where the Jewish Messiah will build the New Temple after entering Jerusalem through the Golden Gate. Historically, the Muslim rulers of Jerusalem had the Golden Gate sealed, in order to prevent the Jewish prophesy coming to pass. But it is also a site of great tension between modern believers of both faiths.

On the lower slopes of the Mount are the Garden of Gethsemane, now the site of the Church of All the Nations. That is the old Christian Churches : Greek Orthodox, Armenian Orthodox, Catholic, Coptic, Assyrian and Ethiopian. Sorry Protestants: you guys are merely protesting Catholics. The church itself has the most wonderful mosaics inside and outside still have many of the olive trees which Christ would have walked through. There is a pillar marking the spot where Judas kissed Jesus, thus rendering Him up to the seraphim guard. Across the street is the now empty tomb of Mary, the Mother of Jesus. Empty because she ascended directly to Heaven from the summit of the Mount of Olives.
Garden of Gethsemane. Olive trees, some of which are over 2,000 years old.

In order to get to the Church of the Sepulchre, the site of Christ’s crucifixion and resurrection, one must walk through Bazaar. That was great but there was simply no time to stop and stare. Although the Church outside is nothing special to look at, it is wonderful to be there. And frankly, the city wasn’t busy. For a site of such historical and cultural significance, there was little queuing, apart for the Tomb of Jesus.
Again the church is split into zones of controls, with to my eye the Greeks getting the best of the deal, holding the site of the Crucifixion, the Tomb and even the centre of the world, at least as it was defined in Medieval times. The poor old Coptic Church just had a booth at the back of the tomb; the Assyrians a bare and graffiti-strewn chapel which has the tombs (again empty) of Joseph of Arimathea and Mary Magdalene. I didn’t even notice the Ethiopian section. Catholics and Armenians had the other, larger sections.

There wasn’t time for us to walk the Via Dolorosa but the last few Stations of the Cross were contained within the church. It was at Golgotha that I had a religious / spiritual / psychological experience (delete as appropriate). People can touch the rock at the foot of the cross (see picture to the left). I did so, lightly brushing the stone with my index finger and thumb. Both digits are still currently painful and when I carelessly licked my thumb later during lunch, I was surprised to taste warm, thick, salt blood.

Owing to the Sabbath, the Jewish Quarter was very quiet. Jacob knew his stuff; he led the group to a vantage point overlooking the Western Wall. It is called the Wailing Wall because above these foundations was once the Temple which contained the Jewish Holies of Holies. Only the High Priest was allowed to enter upon two occasions a year, a rope being tied to his leg in case anything happened to him while he was in the presence of the Holies. The temple was destroyed in AD70 by the Romans and because it is not exactly known where the Holies once stood, we were told that some Jews would not walk upon the top of the ramparts in case they accidentally entered the sacred site.



Jacob had nothing really to add about the Al Aksa Mosque but did relate of the recent riots (this decade) that occurred in the area. It was thus an area which we had to pass through security. That confirmed something that I had first noticed at the port of Haifa. The security guy standing point (right at the front) of the port and therefore the guy first to be shot if the area came under direct ground attack is black. Now, I thought this a coincidence until I was there during a shift change. Sure enough, the black security guard was replaced by a black comrade. At the Western Wall all those on gate duty, at both entry points, were also black.

I think most of the group posted notes into the wall. I was wearing my old African bush hat so didn’t have to avail myself of the paper yarmulkes that were on supply, although I would of worn one otherwise. I wish photography was allowed in the area because my colleague Peter looks, well, a picture in his!

The Judean Desert starts where Eastern Jerusalem ends. As the minibus descended into the rift valley, vegetation got scarcer and then almost ceased. The rounded limestone hills, light brown to cream in colour stood out. The Earth looks different without plants. As a geologist I was able to appreciate many of the features as we drove westward, heading towards the Dead Sea, 400m below sea level and the lowest point on the planet. But seeing the barren hills gave me a feeling of unease. It was like seeing one’s parent naked.

Swimming in the Dead Sea is both the most silly and the most relaxing thing I have ever done. There is no beach in the traditional sense of the word. The edge of the water is blue, sticky claystone which sucks at one’s feet until you slide onto one’s back.. And then you just float! Lying flat out, not even my ears got wet. It is amazing just how much of the body is above the water line. Just as well really, as the water is extremely acrid, being nine times the salinity of normal sea water. Getting out is fun! Showers and changing rooms were available, at the cost of NIS35 (about seven pounds / twelve dollars). Across the water rise up the mountains of Jordan.


It was up the Jordan valley that we returned. Once back inside Israel proper, Jacob spoke about returning to civilisation. Again, we were back into rich farmland.

Apart from such constant anti-Arab remarks, Jacob was a good tourist guide. Knowledgeable and efficient, he knew his routes, his scripts and was able to answer questions on other matters with real knowledge. Every mile there was something he could say about where we were. He is not a stupid man, it just amazing to me that how the strong love of one thing, in this case Israel, can lead a person to think so ill of those who do not share their passion and even to cleanse their nation’s own history. It was the lessening of the man but I know he is not the only person in the region who suffers from holding such an outlook.

It seems to me that Israel is the land where fact becomes myth and legends often become fact. Sometimes telling them apart is almost impossible.

Writing Again.

It’s rather alarming how quickly one can become institutionalised. From October I have been travelling; mostly between Edinburgh and Aberdeen at first but then northern Italy, Holland and as some of you who have read earlier blogs, several months in Israel. Within four days of my return from the Near East, I was out again, travelling to a rig off southern Norway with connecting flights via Denmark. The week following my return I was again in Aberdeen arranging for the sale of my house. So, last week is my first complete week back with the family and to be frank, it is a weird feeling. The rolling stone has finally stopped, at least for a little while.

One would think that being in one place would be a wonderful opportunity to catch up and of course I have with my loved one. But mentally I have just not been able to face anything else. This will be the week to catch up on other neglected business, one of those being writing.

I promised to have a think about the best way to approach the recent crimes committed in Gaza. Now, it is one thing for people like me to write that word, it is a very different thing to prove it. But the laws do exist for groups and individuals to take such allegations to a court of law. From Arabic sources, there was some criticism of the International Criminal Court (ICC) issuing an arrest warrant for the Sudanese President Omar Al Bashir. The basis for this criticism is that it was seen mainly as a political act against a Western enemy. I wondered if Sudan was possibly a signatory to the ICC treaty. Of course it isn’t, but neither is Egypt, Syria, Iran, the USA or Israel. This is interesting as obviously the ICC’s remit covers crimes committed outside the signatory countries. Therefore I would suggest that those in the position of bearing first-hand witness to the recent events in Gaza pool their resources and gather evidence with the view of a submission to the ICC. An alternative avenue would be the Spain's courts, as Spanish law allows for an international arrest warrant to be issued against those charged with crimes against humanity, wherever the events were alleged to have taken place.

It is most probable that these processes are already underway. Why they are so important is this: Israel’s collective punishment of Palestinians over the years have been widely and rightly criticised and being both immoral and unjust. By the same logic therefore, I cannot support the call for embargo and sanctions against Israel. Collective punishment is never right. The individuals who directly take the decisions to proceed in a manner that can be shown to be criminal should be the people who bear the responsibility.
Under liberal values, the rule of law has precedence over all other considerations. That fundamental of western society cannot be compromised: when it has been in the past critics have been quite correct in raising charges of hypocrisy.

Below I have included a link for the ICC which lists the 108 nations and territories that has signed its charter. Apart from the USA, other notable non-signatories include Russia, China, Pakistan and India. This is not to say that all is rosy in the gardens of those countries who have signed: members include Brazil and Columbia for instance. But the step of putting the law of law first, at least in principle, is an important one for any nation to take. It is a principle that should be applied equally: to those who are perceived to be our friends as well as our foes.


Chosen Links.

http://www.icc-cpi.int/Menus/ICC/Home
http://www.icc-cpi.int/NetApp/App/MCMSTemplates/StatePartiesIndex.aspx?NRMODE=Published&NRNODEGUID={7A50B016-A0B6-43EB-AFF8-15FCEDC03D02}&NRORIGINALURL=/Menus/ASP/states+parties/&NRCACHEHINT=Guest#B

A Little Story of Shame

It’s a fair walk from the top of Carmel, dropping down almost 500m from the top of the mountain to the main coastal highway running south to Tel Aviv. Just before reaching the junction of Ezel and Hahaganna Avenue, however, there is a small collection of kiosks selling sweets, drinks and flowers. And next to that, on a scrap of waste land, is a small shanty hut, a tent and large home-made banners in Hebrew. Welcome to the home of David Alon and his wife of thirty five years, Rena.

In broken English David tells me their story. In 2001 their son, Shel, was a soldier and, from what I can tell, he was with the Shabak HaBitahon Haklali, or Misrad Habitahon as David called it. This is Israel’s internal security agency, known just as the Shabak in English. While he was on duty in Israel, a Palestinian had attempted to wrestle his automatic rifle from Shel, apparently with the intention of turning the weapon on the people around. During the struggle, the attempt to snatch the weapon failed – a good job since it had three fully loaded magazines with forty five rounds – but Shel suffered a stab wound to the neck. His health has not been the same since. Psychological problems have also led to two suicide attempts since the incident.

As David tells me the story, Rena serves us hot strong silty coffee served in plastic cups. I ask David why is he protesting?

“For my son! They have not given him what he needs to live.”
“Compensation?” I ask.
“Yes, compensation! They give him just a little then forget. For eight and a half years, we try to get what is his by right.”
“How long have you being camped here?”
“For six months. This is now all we have! We camp here so that see us every day. To shame them.” David points out the low office block nearby. “There! There is their office. Where they work.”
“Has anybody come to speak to you?”
“Nobody. Nobody speaks to us. But they see you speaking to us. The is a camera over there.” He points to a little patch behind us where a large black dog is tied up and barking. “There. Maybe they come to talk to you after. What will you say?”
“I will tell them the truth. It’s a free country isn’t it?” I answer sweetly.
David rolls his eyes. “Ha! A democrat!” He then goes on to tell me about the press coverage, or the lack of it. Not one local journalist has decided to run the story.

Posters outlining the campaign, the bottom one showing it has been currently running for six months.

“We sleep here for six months. In the wind, the rain. I was a big man before we come here. I lose twenty five kilos. We have nothing. But we do it for my son. I tell him “Shel, I am loyal to you 100%! They are not loyal. You are family. I do this for you.””
“Why do you think the journalists do not cover the story?”
“Misrad Habitahon tells them not to. From Misrad Habitahon, they get money, they get stories. What can I give them? Nothing!”

"Journalists and TV - Why don't you come here? Are you afraid of the truth?"

David asks me whether I am Jewish or Christian. I am puzzled as to why he asks this but tell him I am a Christian.
“Christ[ian]? Good. I want to become. I am ashamed to be Jew in this country. If a person does bad, they give him medals, everything. If he does good, they walk away from him.”

"Terrorist stab me in the neck. Misrad Habitahon stab me in the back"

During our conversation, David asks me several questions. His English is not great and my Hebrew is non-existent so the conversation is a bit laborious. Rena joins in and they speak in Hebrew, with David returning to me with fresh questions. I make it clear that I am not a journalist, that I am interested because I write a blog. Finally they understand. The Alons are desperate for somebody to pick up on their and their son’s story.

“Tell a journalist to come, and somebody who can speak Hebrew and English. If you could speak Hebrew, I would tell you everything. English is difficult for us.”

The pictures show the banners that are hanging around the camp. The translations are based upon what David has told me.

Finally I bid the couple farewell and wish them luck. As I walk back up the hill I have time to reflect. I am a blog writer and not a journalist. A journalist would have asked tough questions, challenged them about their disillusionment with Israel, asked David if it was sensible to be so inflammatory towards his fellow countrymen. A journalist would have been able to check their story. My next move would have been to speak to the press in Haifa and asked them why they have not given the Alon’s story any space. I would have also gone to the press-office of the Shabak and asked them for their side of the story. I tried looking up the story of the initial attack on Shel Alon and the Alon’s six-month long campaign in the Jerusalem Post, Israel National News, Haaretz.com and Israel Insider but drew a complete blank. It goes to show that the Internet is a valuable resource but is still limited.

The flip side of this of course is what if David is right? That the local journalists won’t touch this story because of vested interests and because, although true, it shows Israel in a bad light. How else can such a story be brought to the world, except through a random meeting between a curious foreigner and a family struggling with an indifferent and powerful state?

Israel is a free country. The Alons are free to campaign and the State is free to ignore them.

 David and Rena Alon, outside the tent that has been their home for six months

*  *   *  

The next day I go to work offshore.  When I return the taxi picks me up and on the way to the airport we drive past David and Rena's camp.  

"I'm sorry," I say to the taxi driver.  "But I can't read Hebrew.  What do those posters say?  Is it some kind of protest?"

"It will be to do with the elections," replies Lulu.  "We have an election on the 10th."  He looks over at posters.

"Ah, they are just election posters?" I ask innocently.

"Yes."