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The Hill
2 days ago
- Politics
- The Hill
70 years later, an alarm against nuclear proliferation rings louder than ever
It feels like we're living in unprecedented times. Political divisions rack the U.S. and the world. The war between Ukraine and Russia has brought unforeseen advances in drone warfare. The foreign policy arena feels like a powder keg dangerously close to open flames. Of course, over the last few weeks, we've all been reminded of the terrifying reality of nuclear weapons following U.S. and Israeli strikes against Iran's nuclear program. Questions about these weapons are once again on the minds of policymakers and the public. Though it may feel like new territory, we may look to the past to help us navigate these turbulent times. This month marks the 70th anniversary of the Russell-Einstein Manifesto, written in the wake of the atomic bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945, when the U.S. and Soviet Union were racing to create even more destructive weapons. In this context, philosopher Bertrand Russell and physicist Albert Einstein crafted a powerful statement transcending political ideologies, group identities and national borders. Their message was simple yet powerful: 'Remember your humanity, and forget the rest.' They warned of the calamity of nuclear war. After the invention of the atomic bomb, war was no longer about fortifications and sieges. It was no longer a question of winners and losers but of 'will any of us be left?' Humanity faced the threat of extinction. Though memories of the Cold War are quickly fading, we must acknowledge that the world Russell and Einstein warned against persists and is, in some ways, more worrisome now. Nine governments are known to possess nuclear weapons. Nuclear arsenals have unfathomable destructive power. As the recent events in Europe and the Middle East demonstrate, these weapons are still a threat. Given these realities, many suggest the manifesto's vision of international cooperation and nuclear disarmament was naïve. But this misses the point. The manifesto never said the path to disarmament or peace would be easy. Instead, it noted that the renunciation of nuclear weapons and the abolition of war were the keys to human survival. The fact that this vision hasn't been achieved does not invalidate it as an aspiration; it makes it more urgent. What can be done to address this urgency? One step would be for the nuclear powers to credibly announce a no-first-use policy. To date, only China and India have formally committed to refrain from using nuclear weapons in initial strikes against others. The other nuclear powers could adopt a similar policy. The U.S. and Russian governments could reinvigorate the New Strategic Arms Reduction Treaty (New START Treaty) which seeks to limit nuclear capabilities. The Russian government suspended participation in New START in February 2023 in response to tensions over Ukraine. The treaty is set to expire in February 2026. Though governments got us into this mess, governments alone can't get us out. Politicians have a weak incentive to consider reducing, if not altogether abolishing, nuclear weapons absent sufficient pressure. The same goes for governments seeking to obtain them. The Russell-Einstein Manifesto inspired many to take up the cause of nuclear disarmament. The Pugwash Conferences on Science and World Affairs brought together scholars from many disciplines to discuss peaceful solutions to conflict. These types of gatherings are still needed. But the real solution is everyday people. Nuclear weapons may seem beyond our control, but the ideals and opinions of citizens may be the most critical factor in limiting them and war. Ordinary citizens could be the source of pressure that pushes their governments in the right direction. This is not a utopian dream. Historian Lawrence Wittner highlights the crucial, yet often overlooked role that citizen-based organizations have played in limiting the spread and use of nuclear weapons. But for this to work, citizens must take an interest and recognize their power over their governments. At the heart of the Russell-Einstein Manifesto was a straightforward, yet powerful question: 'Shall we put an end to the human race; or shall mankind renounce war?' As we recognize the 70th anniversary of its publication, we would all do well to reflect on our answer. Abigail R. Hall is an associate professor of economics at the University of Tampa and a senior fellow at the Independent Institute. Christopher J. Coyne is a professor of economics at George Mason University and a senior fellow at the Independent Institute. They are the coauthors of the book ' How to Run Wars: A Confidential Playbook for the National Security Elite.'
Times
25-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Times
Amol Rajan Goes to the Ganges review — sceptic swept along by cosmic energies
TV hasn't always been a confessional medium but in our more touchy-feely age you cannot move for celebrity-led spiritual journeys, emotional discoveries and deep dives into traumatised minds. I wouldn't quite put Amol Rajan Goes to the Ganges (BBC1) in that bracket. Indeed it would be hard to put this broadcasting jack-of-all-trades in any bracket, with his ear stud, classless estuary accent and the fact that his formative heroes were, he told us while playing drum'n'bass music in his car, the philosopher Bertrand Russell and the larrikin Australian leg spinner Shane Warne. Rajan's companion here was another childhood hero, or rather heroine — his mum. She seemed pleased, if mildly sceptical, that the Today and University Challenge presenter's latest job was to travel to the Hindu festival Kumbh Mela in India, principally to honour his late father, who died suddenly three years before, and to process his loss. The charismatic mother is another feature of these sorts of shows (and here I cite Romesh Ranganathan's ma for reference) and Mrs Rajan did not disappoint. After she told her son that he was once a 'pleasantly plump' young lad, they discussed the sacred importance of all rivers in Hinduism, even London's cold grey Thames, where her husband's ashes were scattered. I loved their relationship. A likeably emotional man, Rajan seems occasionally to speak before he thinks. At first he approached this serious subject in the manner of someone heading out for an impromptu chippy tea. He spoke of his 'psyched vibe' at the promise of a 'bit of healing' in India. However, as a two-showers-a-day man, he wasn't looking forward to the potential hygiene issues at an event where about 70 million people were crammed in a corner of the Ganges. Would he simply think, 'You're just a river, mate'? Then the realisation dawned that he didn't want to let down the man he kept referring to as his 'dear dad'. You suspected that his jauntiness — the way in India he observed 'amazing … shit going on over there' — was probably partly due to nerves. • Read more TV reviews, guides about what to watch and interviews Whether or not you think this kind of profoundly intimate soul-searching should be done away from the cameras, the best TV journeys tend to be made by proper journalists. Rajan's radio training allowed him to paint vivid pictures of the enormous gathering, including its smell ('pollution mixed with incense'). He was also impressively collected when tragedy struck en route to the pilgrimage site — a stampede that resulted in 90 casualties and 30 deaths — before an eye-opening chat with a 'wise lady' called Aunt Lakshmi from a nearby ashram about the circle of life and the many facets of God within Hinduism. Their discourse on their contrasting approaches to grief and death was multicultural programming in the truest, most captivating sense. And while Rajan was not going to abandon his 'hard won' westernised scepticism, he did deliver a moving climax where he honoured the spirit of his dad in the form of the symbolic oatmeal offering in the great river. 'Bye, Dad,' he said, before marvelling at the 'cosmic energies flowing through me right now … in the Holy Ganga'. It was hard not to be swept along with him.★★★★☆ Love TV? Discover the best Apple TV+ shows, the best Netflix TV shows and the best Prime Video TV shows plus the best TV shows of 2024 so far. Don't forget to try our hidden gem TV shows collection, check our critics' choices to what to watch this week and browse our comprehensive TV guide. You can also browse our expert-curated collections of the best TV shows and the best movies
Irish Times
09-06-2025
- Politics
- Irish Times
Ray Burke on how the books of almost every Irish writer of note were banned in the last century
President Michael D. Higgins told a gathering of librarians that he was hosting at a Bloomsday Garden Party at Áras an Uachtaráin last June about a visit he made to the public library in Galway shortly after he moved there more than 60 years ago to work for the Electricity Supply Board before enrolling at the local university. Having climbed the stairs to the library (housed at that time in Galway's 19th century county courthouse) he asked if he could borrow the book 'Why I Am Not a Christian' by the British philosopher and Nobel Literature Laureate Bertrand Russell. He said that the librarian told him: 'I cannot give you that book'. He said that when he asked her why not, she replied: 'Because it would not be good for you'. The impromptu denial suffered by the future President of Ireland was possible under the Censorship of Publications Acts that dated back to 1929 and that prohibited the importation into Ireland of more than 12,000 publications, mainly books or magazines, that were deemed by State-appointed censorship boards to be 'indecent or obscene' and likely 'to corrupt or deprave'. READ MORE Almost every Irish writer of note had their books banned under the acts during the last century, irrespective of their international renown. Brendan Behan used to quip that in Ireland he was 'the leader of the banned'. Edna O'Brien had hardback first editions of her early novels confiscated by customs officers at Dublin Airport in 1966 when she arrived from London to attend a debate on censorship. Galway libraries had been banning books even before the Censorship Acts came into force. 'Every effort has been made by the committee to ensure that no books of an objectionable nature should be allowed to circulate', the minutes of the first meeting of the Galway County Council Libraries Committee in May 1926 state. At the same meeting, the committee – successor to the County Galway Carnegie Libraries – approved a report from the chief librarian that said: 'No little difficulty has been experienced in book selection, particularly in dealing with works of fiction as the general tendency in recent years of authors has lain more in the realm of sex, psychoanalysis, and other objectionable studies totally extraneous to any story'. In February 1927, the committee resolved that copies of all books recommended for purchase be supplied 'to each member of the committee, the [Catholic] Archbishop of Tuam, and the Bishop of Galway'. Two months later it invited the two bishops to submit lists of books for purchase. An early-1950s annual meeting of the committee noted: 'It was proposed by county councillor Tom King, seconded by Tadg O'Shea, and resolved that printed slips be inserted in every book issued at headquarters, branches and centres, asking readers to draw the attention of the county librarian 'to any objectionable book' and that lists of books for purchase be submitted to the book selection sub-committtee (which included a number of Catholic priests). This may explain how Tom Kenny, of Kennys Bookshop in Galway, came into possession of a rare copy of James Joyce's 'Ulysses. 'It was a surprise some years ago when we bought an elderly local priest's library to discover a two-volume paperback set of Ulysses' by James Joyce which was published by the Odyssey Press. We got an even bigger shock when we opened the flyleaf and discovered the signature ` + M. Browne 1938′ – Cross Michael himself, the bishop', Tom has recalled. An earlier, even-rarer copy of Ulysses had been censored by immolation in Galway shortly after its publication in 1922. Joyce sent a first edition to another Galway bookseller, Frank O'Gorman, in whose printing works Joyce's partner and future wife, Nora Barnacle, may have worked occasional, casual shifts. It was inscribed 'To Frank, with best wishes, Nora and Jim', but Frank O'Gorman's mother promptly burned it. Her grandson Ronnie, a respected local historian and founder of the Galway Advertiser freesheet, last year donated his collection of rare and valuable books to the University of Galway shortly before his death after an illness. It included an expensively acquired first edition of Ulysses and also a limited first edition of the book with illustrations by the French artist Henri Matisse, signed by both the artist and by Joyce. A few months before Ronnie O'Gorman's death, the then minister for justice, Helen McEntee, announced, in November 2023, that she had obtained government approval to repeal the Censorship of Publications Acts. She acknowledged that censorship boards 'are of limited relevance in a modern society'.
The Hindu
24-05-2025
- General
- The Hindu
The English conundrum
'Good morning.' No response. The teacher in me was piqued. When will they learn the English etiquette? 'Good morning' is a simple greeting. But 'goodnight' is not so simple. It cannot be used just because it is night time, but only when parting at night or before going to sleep. I have taught English for several years, not just the language and its literature, but also its ethos and etiquette. I admit English is a complicated language, what with its irrational spelling, its idiosyncratic accent, its homophones and homonyms and more. No wonder, Bertrand Russell famously said that 'fish' can be written as 'ghoti' and still pronounced 'fish'! (For 'gh' in words like rough and laugh has the sound of 'f' ; the 'o' in women has the sound of 'i', and the 'ti' in nation and ration has the sound of 'sh'.) When it comes to the English accent, it is even more confusing. For example, the first syllable is accented in 'photograph', the second syllable in 'photographer', and the third in 'photographic'. Aiyyo! (the latest COD has included the word). Confusion confounded. Then there are the homophones, words that have different meanings and spellings, but have the same sound. A lady who had no children went to a doctor about an imaginary ailment. After the examination the doctor said, 'Ma'am, what you need is just sun and air.' The lady replied, 'Unfortunately I don't have both. 'She meant 'son' and 'heir''. Homonyms are words spelt and pronounced alike, but mean different things according to the context in which they are used — for instance, words such as 'bill', 'bowl', and 'hand'. People of different races and regions have different accents when they speak English. Donald Trump's nasal twang has reverberated throughout the world causing a market meltdown. Shashi Tharoor's clipped British accent has baffled even the native speakers, not to mention his sophisticated use of vocabulary. Even he is flummoxed by Gen Z's vocabulary that includes 'fomo' or 'ootd' (fear of missing out and outfit of the day). Mr. Tharoor says that the British have not only looted our country's wealth but also have looted from our language. Many of the English words like catamaran, bungalow, and bandana are derivatives from Indian languages. English literature is what I enjoy best. As a 17 year old, I used to be lost in wonder as Professor Rao quoted with ease the lines from Macbeth. He used to strut across the classroom keeping me spellbound by the magic of Shakespeare's iambic pentameter. His kinesthetic style of teaching was copied by me later. For greater effect, I would put on and take off my reading glasses attached to a chain around my neck, at frequent intervals. The great litterateur and poet Aiyyappa Paniker taught me the different English meters. He was a young professor at that time and initiated me to poetic appreciation. I danced with the daffodils and flew with the west wind. I learned alliteration from Keats' 'beaded bubbles winking at the brim' and onomatopoeia that mimics the sound it describes. I enjoyed reading the classics — Dickens and Hardy, the Bronte sisters and Jane Austen, all of them. I came upon Rushdie's magic realism much later. The reading habit has helped me in my retirement. I am an octogenarian who still enjoys turning the pages of a book. As for the accent, I will stick to my Malayalam accent which can switch a statement into a question by just raising my voice with the ending word! 'Simply' wonderful!
Telegraph
13-05-2025
- Politics
- Telegraph
In the name of progress: eugenics then, euthanasia now
Progress may be the most dangerous two-syllable word in politics. Slapped on to all sorts of monstrosities it has become a means of justifying inadequate arguments and evading scrutiny. To the unthinking politician, if an issue constitutes progress it is inevitably part of a wider move towards enlightenment, is an inherently good step and, crucially, must happen sooner or later. The belief means identifying barriers to progress; and, by extension, viewing their removal as a social good. This isn't a modern outlier or bug but a longstanding feature of progressive thought. It was in the name of progress that the Fabian and socialist eugenicists – from Beatrice and Sidney Webb to Bertrand Russell and Marie Stopes – advocated the sterilisation of the disabled and sick during the 20th century. It was in the name of progress that George Bernard Shaw supported 'the socialisation of the selective breeding of man', even, chillingly, proposing the euthanasia of the mentally ill and other members of the 'unfit' classes via 'extensive use of the lethal chamber'. In short; a very dangerous word indeed. This isn't just a history lesson either; the groups these people supported still exist. Dignity in Dying, the main advocacy group for assisted dying, was founded by a member of the Eugenics Society and was known until 2006 as The Voluntary Euthanasia Society. In our own day, the same concept is being invoked once more as a sort of unanswerable force. The debate over assisted suicide is intensifying on both sides of the Border this week, as Kim Leadbeater's Private Members' Bill returns to Parliament and Holyrood MSPs voted in favour of a similar Bill proposed by Lib Dem Liam McArthur. In her efforts to champion her Bill on social media, the former is emerging as someone with Van Gogh's ear for diplomacy; both tactless and self-aggrandising. This week she dismissed opponents as 'scaremongering and ideological', while quoting praise of herself from a supporter, describing her as a 'social reformer'. At least irony hasn't been assisted with its death. The inconvenient truth is that, in this case progress involves the sidelining and rejection of the very people whose needs it claims to advance. The Royal College of Physicians recently published a statement warning that the Bill's 'deficiencies' render it unsafe for patients and doctors. Was this 'scaremongering'? Every user-led disability group opposes the change, as do a majority of palliative care professionals. Are they 'ideologues' too? If Leadbeater is foolish and groups like Dignity in Dying malign, there is a third and more complacent category of argument invoking the consistently-disproven concept of 'the right side of history'. It is telling that despite supporting assisted suicide in principle, former Scots Tory Leader Ruth Davidson couldn't quite endorse the parallel Bill before Holyrood in its current form. Instead, in a column this week, she urges MSPs simply to trust that they will be able to iron out any problems at a later date. She also cites the number of countries around the world offering assisted suicide as if this, in itself, constituted an argument. What many of these jurisdictions actually show is quite the opposite to Davidson's Panglossian faith that everything will work itself out. A particularly invidious aspect of this debate has been the manipulation of language. Not only is there a tendency to imply, per Leadbeater, that the pro-side has a monopoly on compassion, relatives' understandable efforts to prevent their loved ones from taking their own lives have sometimes been reframed as 'coercion'. During the 'expert' witness testimony, one Australian MP referred to ' assisted dying ' in exquisitely Orwellian fashion, as a form of 'suicide prevention'. There has even been some squeamishness about using the word 'suicide' at all, though the Bill would by definition amend the 1961 Suicide Act. It's as if they fear this serious change to the social fabric will be impossible without annexing language to limit what their opponents may say. And now, showing tragedy and farce are far closer than we think, Kim Leadbeater is apparently a 'social reformer'. Parliament's own impact assessment also reveals this tendency. It was slipped out under the radar on Friday afternoon after the local elections. This too contained the dystopian language we've come to expect from the debate; focusing on the service's 'inclusivity'; perhaps to give women, disabled and vulnerable people equal access to death. The Bill already covers a far wider remit than its proponents initially promised. The irony is that Leadbeater and her allies no doubt think of themselves and their actions as progressive. Yet each of them is simultaneously engaged in the business of ignoring the voices of the poor and the vulnerable. This Bill is so comprehensively at odds with the principles of previous social reform that enacting it will mean rewriting the Bill on which the National Health Service was forged. The legislation is so far-sweeping that the Bill's proponents may become the first people to undo the basic healthcare principle that life should be preserved. This is worth restating for all the 'sensibles' out there; it wasn't Mrs Thatcher or 'Tory privatisation', but a Labour backbencher who will fundamentally change the stated purpose of the NHS – and in a final irony, will do so not in the name of profit but of progress.
