This was prompted by an invitation to speak at an event debating the relative merits of voting, or not, inspired by the Russell Brand/Paxo interview. It’s rough, but mostly encapsulates what I’m thinking about the whole thing at the moment.
Voting is one of the most fundamental civil rights we have in society – it is supposedly one of the most significant methods of expressing our opinion as citizens, and exercising our power. However, election turnouts are dwindling, perhaps showing the widespread mistrust of politicians and apathy in the electorate, which begs the question; is it worth voting at all?
In my mind, we have one of 3 options:
- Vote, and choose the best (or least bad) candidate for the job. Collude with the system, affirm it, and contribute only to change from within the system, and nothing to radical change.
- Don’t vote, and void any opinions or ideas you might have about party politics, because you did nothing to change the system itself.
- Spoil your ballot, register your disgust with the system as a whole, and state your determination to change things for the better, and create an alternative outside of party politics.
I will opt for the third option on every occasion, a hundred times over. I respect people who vote, and those who don’t, as long as they can provide reasoning. If you think candidate x will genuinely change things, I can think you’re misguided, but ultimately I will respect that opinion and the fact that you voted. If you are simply voting for someone that you hate because they are the least worst option, I might suggest you think about engaging in politics outside of the ‘legitimate democratic process’, i.e. get involved in union organising, or direct action, or some kind of political movement. Voting tactically makes sense locally – where I’m from in North London, the local Labour MP, Jeremy Corbyn, is a pretty radical bloke, and has achieved a lot of really cool things in the time he’s been elected (some 30 years). In that area, voting Labour makes sense locally, even if it may not make sense nationally – it depends on how you value the trade-offs between local and national politics.
If you don’t vote and don’t engage in politics on any level, I think that in short; you’re an idiot. You have no valid claims to make about politics and you certainly can’t complain about things if you have made zero effort to change things at all. It reminds me of an advertising campaign run during the early noughties elections. If you think everything is absolutely perfect as-is, fair enough, but I doubt you will find a soul who changes their mind about perfection as quickly as the government changes colours. People who engage in politics outside of the party-political pseudo-democratic sphere I can understand – I know a lot of people from the London Left (Dirty Commies and Filthy Reds), who I am most familiar with, having grown up there – opt for this. This is the point of contention for me, and something I have an internal dilemma about. If you actively try to remove the corrupt system that is in place (AKA Smash the State/Crush Capitalism/etc.) and in its place create something better (Transition Towns/Co-operatives/Community Centres/etc.), yet choose not to vote, I can accept your utter rejection of the state in all its forms. It’s a bit purist, but I get it.
My justification for spoiling my ballot is that I am doing the best of both; pursuing a multi-pronged attack. I am a) registering my discontent/disconsolateness/disgust/repulsion (delete as appropriate) with the political system in its own terms whilst b) actively trying to remove it from outside and create a better alternative in its place. I respect those who don’t vote, yet strive to create something better outside of the framework of our so-called ‘democracy’. However, those who seek to cultivate the impression of being left field, living the ‘anarcho’ lifestyle, are just as bad as anyone else who doesn’t vote and doesn’t engage. Narcs who do pretty much nothing but go to demos to bait cops and drink special brew are just as bad as any tabloid-regurgitating square.
Ultimately the argument of ‘the suffragettes fought and died for your right to vote’ will come up – I think it is one’s own decision whether or not to exercise that right to vote, and that whatever you decide is valid, as long as you can justify the choice. Engaging with politics on any level, whether its student politics, attending national marches against unjust wars, listening to debates in Parliament, writing letters to MPs, chaining yourself to banks or being a keyboard warrior over the internet (as long as it’s reasoned) is all legitimate – and if you do something on any shade of the spectrum, you have a basis for not voting. It’s only if you refuse to engage in politics entirely – whether its with a big P or a little p – that you should be condemned.
Politics is relevant to everyone and everything, yet party politics is such a turn-off. It would help if people were more educated on the alternatives. Doing things and changing things for the better can be so exciting, and could change the way we do things as a society, if only we taught it in schools. I would still encourage people to choose option 3 because it challenges the status quo from within and without, but it only works if you are involved. That’s the crux of the matter – more people need to get engaged, get angry, and get involved.
This is a feature piece I’ve written for the Global Section of Concrete this edition. I’m not looking forward to having to edit it down to fit in the paper.
Coltan. Tantalum. Cobalt. Sounds like things relevant to nobody except Walter White. Guess again; these precious minerals are in virtually every electronic device you can imagine – tantalum extracted from coltan is used to manufacture the capacitors that have mostly replaced platinum for use in smartphones, and cobalt is widely used in rechargeable lithium batteries. Most people in the UK probably use a device containing one of these minerals 20 times or more every day.
One of the largest deposits of cobalt is located in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, and estimates of the coltan resource range between 64% and 80% of the global total. This has prompted a recent mining boom in DRC which has financed serious ethnic conflict and war.
Fighting in the so-called “coltan belt” dramatically increased at the beginning of the noughties, and metal mining has been linked to the Ituri conflict in 2002, when 3,000 civilians were massacred and virtually no international media outlets even reported on it. The profits from lucrative mines are seized by the militias and local warlords who control them, and the money is then used to finance military exercises, spurring violence and destruction across Congo. The government has been fighting the armed rebels for years, with new groups rising out of the woodwork whenever successful attempts are made to hold off conflict. The M23 rebels surrendered to a government offensive this month, signing a deal that will put an end to insurgency in the East that has continued since the end of the Second Congo War in 2003, and has included the widespread perpetration of war crimes. It is unlikely that this will have to be the last such deal.
Children are forcibly assimilated into these armies, becoming addicted to drugs and alcohol, and committing horrendous atrocities as a result of their desensitised attitudes towards other human beings. What is perhaps more alarming is that the horrors in Congo go largely unreported; 5.4 million people died during the war from 1998 to 2007, out of a total population of 69 million – that’s nearly 8% of all the people in the country. Fighting also displaces millions of people – 300,000 (equivalent to the population of Venice) fled the M23 army last April, and an estimated 2.5 million people have been forced to leave their homes since the Lord’s Resistance Army first surfaced in the late 1980s.
Congo is often called the “rape capital of the world”, following reports from NGOs like Human Rights Watch documenting the use of rape as a weapon of war; more recently a 2007 study estimated more than a million Congolese women have been raped once or more during their lifetime. The Internal Displacement Monitoring Centre has seen an increasing number of sexual attacks committed on children between the ages of 8 and 17, with 13.3% under the age of 10 – girls are most at risk, while boys are in danger of recruitment into the ranks of rebel armies.
The situation can be traced back through Congo’s tumultuous colonial past, following Belgium’s land grab during the “scramble for Africa” from the late 1880s up until the outbreak of World War One. Belgian Congo was simply a source of raw materials for Belgium, and the plentiful natural resources there have been rapaciously exploited ever since colonisation. Insurrection following independence in 1960 carved out Congo’s military trajectory – Mobutu seized power by force, ruling for more than 30 years, until he was ousted following the Rwandan genocide in the 1990s, and replaced by the puppet of Rwanda and Uganda, Laurent Kabila. The resulting war when they grew tired of their proxy and attempted to remove him is referred to as Africa’s First World War. Since then, the resulting free-for-all has allowed armed groups to seize control of mines in order to facilitate the mayhem with blood money from the sale of diamonds, gold, tin, tantalum and cobalt.
It is widely documented that corrupt government officials profit from the illegal spoils alongside the warring factions with de facto control over the mines. The slow progress in cleaning them up is having an effect on this illicit trade agreement, whereby government and rebel armies alike fund horrific brutality with appropriated minerals, growing fat off the profits while ordinary Congolese people die. The situation is perpetuated by underhand government funding to the rebels, providing them with weapons whilst visibly fighting them in the anarchic eastern provinces.
Recent attempts to disconnect the supply of essential minerals from warfare, such as the “no blood on my cell phone” campaign, leg by NGOs and religious institutions, called for a trade embargo on “blood tantalum”, drawing parallels with the successful campaign to raise awareness about blood diamonds. The phrase refers to diamonds mined in conflict areas and often used to finance the activities of warlords or insurgency, as was seen in the late 90s and early 00s in countries in West Africa, like Sierra Leone and Angola. So successful was the campaign to eradicate the sale of blood diamonds in the West that it prompted the creation of the film by the same name about the Sierra Leonian civil war from 1996 to 2001. However, the glamour of diamonds is not easily transferrable to a campaign about the sale of component materials present in items that are so extensively used in industrialised countries. Trying to get people to give up items which have become so firmly entrenched in our everyday lives as to make it unthinkable to live without them is going to be a hard-sell.
The corporations that benefit from the production of cheap blood tantalum know this only too well. Although some companies, like Motorola, HP and Intel, which manufacture everything from phones to computer microchips, have started to wean themselves off the habit, there are many who still profit from it, relying on our addiction to technology and our unwillingness to pay more for it.
New regulations to certify non-conflict minerals cost companies a significant amount above what it costs to buy whatever raw materials they can, at the lowest price. Intel employee Chuck Mulloy recently outlined in the National Geographic why the company has sacrificed some of their profits in the name of clean minerals: “we don’t want to support people who are raping, pillaging, and killing. It’s as simple as that”.
However, what seems simple on the surface may involve a much more complex array of factors – a six-month ban on mining and trading activities in Eastern Congo, imposed by the government towards the end of 2010, had devastating effects on the livelihoods of miners in the region. The Dodd-Frank financial reform bill, signed by Obama in summer 2010, was criticised for the same reasons – that it would force companies like Intel to boycott all mines and smelters that could not prove their conflict-free, or “green” credentials, thereby removing the livelihoods of tens of thousands of poor miners. This was the case for some time, although the growth of certified green mines and smelters, with a rubber-stamping guarantee system, has led to a resurgence in the mining of precious minerals, this time without the bloodstains.
Heightened awareness and some degree of consumer pressure has obviously led to some companies developing a conscience with regards to precious metals. The Fairphone is the first smartphone in which every component in the supply chain is guaranteed to be conflict-free, and aims to be environmentally and socially responsible in every aspect of its manufacture. 25,000 have already been sold, indicative of a growing concern among citizens of developed countries about atrocities committed in the name of technological progress in countries like Congo. Hopefully it will be soon that every phone you buy will be untainted with the blood and pain of Congo’s war.
I guess I must declare from the outset of this post that I am an atheist. Of course this doesn’t mean anything for anyone else – in fact I think religion is a great thing if it works for a person, it just doesn’t for me, thanks to my ruthlessly logical and scientific mind. Being able to find solace, or courage, or meaning in religion is wonderful, and I have seen that it can do amazing things for people. My problem therefore is not so much with spirituality, but with organised religion. I encountered a lot of both in the Philippines, some of which made me feel incredibly uncomfortable, and some of which I didn’t mind at all. It is a very Catholic country (something that is a relic of Spanish colonialism, with which I have a whole other set of issues entirely), which is sometimes overt, for instance in the case of the insular Iglesia ni Christo churches, but often it is not. Nevertheless, I was not bothered by the presence of religion in most places I went.
During my stay, we spent some time with a priest, Father Paul, who is amazing, and deservedly well respected in Payatas for the incredible things he has done. Because Filipinos are so religious, he has been able to achieve some very positive things because he is a priest, and people are generally more receptive to what he has to say, which at times can be fairly radical. In such an environment, an enlightened and respected individual like him can make a far greater difference than anyone else, particularly western ‘experts’ or researchers who haven’t got a clue what’s going on (myself included). However, because priests have so much authority, it matters what they have to say, and who they are – everyone has a worldview, and everyone has an agenda. My concern is more that the church impedes development in the Philippines, while those doing truly good work are in the minority.
At the moment, there is a bill going through Parliament called the Reproductive Health (RH) Bill. As could probably be predicted it refers to universal access to information about things like abortion, family planning and contraception. As could also be predicted, the Catholic Church is vehemently against it, and implementation of the law has been delayed as a result of opposition. On the side of one church we saw a sign that proclaimed the government should be opposing the RH bill because it would a) create terrorism, b) (I paraphrase) turn children into sexualised monsters and c) create poverty. The ridiculousness of this sign is most scary because people are taken in by it. In what world does being able to choose whether or not to have a child create more poverty? Surely, it does the exact opposite. The imposition of the Church’s fearful remonstrations and opinions is what I find disgusting – taking away from people who often lack access to basic sex education the right to think for themselves and take control of their own bodies, families and lives.
Of course, I found the expectation to sing hymns and say grace a strain too, but those are the kinds of things I can deal with out of respect for the people I am with. Besides, I find the expectation to sing karaoke a strain too, even at the best of times (i.e. two bottles of Red Horse down). It is only when I see the flagrant abuse and institutionalised, systemic undermining of progress by the Catholic church that I have a problem with it. It is under these circumstances that one can really see where Marx was coming from when he spoke about religion being the “opiate of the masses”. The Catholic Church is bad enough, but the cultish Iglesia ni Christo is far worse. The stories I heard about the links to big money and organised crime are enough to turn your stomach, even before you consider the positions it takes and the way it tries to place its ministers into promising government positions.
My experience with the particular Filipino brand of religion was thus pretty mixed. On the one hand it felt incredibly overbearing, and a hindrance on the personal development of people, and on the development of the nation as whole. Meanwhile, on the other, I felt that on an individual level it gave people hope and purpose – which can’t be derided. I feel that the problem is when religion is used imperialistically, much as it is elsewhere in the developing world. Spirituality supersedes borders, whereas organised religion is often needlessly used to realise ulterior ambitions – and therein lies the problem.
Of all strata of society that perpetuate the current abusive and oppressive capitalist regime, the (ahem) landed gentry and landlord class is one of the worst. Despite the archaic terminology – there is much debate about whether the concept of class is still valid, and you can probably tell I’ve been reading too much 19th century polemic – this concept is still relevant today. In this case, the tradesmen of Tressell’s Mugsborough are students, and the landlord are, well, landlords. Students are shackled with a burden of debt that they will carry well into their twenties and thirties – I am lucky that I will emerge (hopefully) from my academic chrysalis with a degree or two and only (gasp) £30,000 of debt. I pity the poor souls who are paying £9 grand a year, and labouring under the pretence that education is an ‘investment’, rather than a right. To label the pursuit of knowledge such, and to commodify it, is a sore attempt to turn students into automatons who learn to pass exams throughout their schooling and university careers, primed and pumped for the plunge into the ‘real’ world where all but a lucky few are destined as fodder for the machine that turns human labour into gold for the 1% who sit getting fat on it at the top.
Landlords are part of this 1%. They do no work and accrue wealth from those who live in their properties, who are also often given the privilege of paying for their own repairs and being charged extortionate rents. The use of intermediaries (estate agents – the ultimate leeches on society) to further distance themselves from the tenants they are unashamedly ripping off illustrates their unwillingness to engage with real life, and their separation from everyone else.
These people believe they can extort vast sums of money from students who are already burdened with thousands of pounds worth of debt because they can. If all the landlords in an area are doing it, it’s ok, right? Elitist collusion allows this to happen – it’s the same as what’s happening in London and all over the Southeast – rents are being jacked up because everyone’s doing it, and all in the interests of a very few who are pissing themselves laughing at champagne dinners and clapping people like Boris Johnson on the back for “ruddy well doing it again”. Tory legislation, for instance recent laws clamping down on squatting, protects the rights of absentee landlords who are using their properties for diddly squat (excuse the pun), whilst removing a last resort for poor and homeless people and promulgating slanderous propaganda about no-good, jobless squatter junkies and middle-class white kids who go home to get a shower and their laundry done.
None of this is useful to anyone except the few people at the top who extort capital from the poor, and accrue wealth at others’ expense. These are the people who would like to perpetuate the status quo, because it is so obviously in their interest. These are the people that need to be resisted; in small ways, and in ways they understand; taking them to court for demanding more money for ‘damages’, withholding rent, and by tearing down the fabric of their system from around them.