Tag Archives: Arabian Gulf

He who shouts the loudest . . .

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            . . . is the Winner

            “The Americans fought WWII against the Germans, with the help of the Russians, on behalf of the Jews”.

So went the opening of an article in NEWSWEEK some years ago, and it was incorrect in every fact. WWII began when Britain declared war on Germany because they marched into Poland intent on conquering Europe. America stayed out of this “European War” until Pearl Harbor, and the Russians signed a non-aggression pact with Hitler—and the plight of the Jews was never raised during the whole of the war. And after the war the horrors of AUSCHWITZ were not the centre piece of the grisly pictures of the Nazis’ concentration/labour/death camps. Yet the international edition of The Sunday Times this weekend had yet another article about Auschwitz.

Approximately 22 Million people died in various concentration camps of which about 6 Million were Jews. But there were also millions of non-Jewish Poles and French, and many thousands of Roma, homosexuals, political prisoners, Prisoners of War and common criminals exterminated in labour/death camps.

I am lucky/unlucky enough to remember WWII. I was 12 when it ended, and my father was a serious man who took and read two newspapers a day – three on a Sunday. Our house was full of news. During the war I remember nothing being reported of the plight of the Jews, and after the war the horrors of the concentration camps were depicted by Bergen-Belsen, Buchenwald and Dachau. Only much later were the horrors of Auschwitz detailed.  It was one of the biggest death camps and dedicated to the extermination of Jews – but it was not the biggest.

Who has heard of Mathausen-Gusen complex, which was the biggest, a category Stufe III labour camp dedicated to bone grinding down the intelligentsia of Europe, and where more than 300,000 died?  How many books, movies and magazine articles have been written about that camp?

I am not comfortable applying league tables to atrocities—the extermination of any group of humans be they Jews, Roma, homosexuals, intelligentsia—is a crime against humanity. But I am even less comfortable with people justifying evil because they had evil done to them. Perhaps it is my Christian upbringing but I find fanaticism, hate and terrorism despicable. Wreaking vengeance on those who did you evil is understandable—but savaging your friends because they do not support your extreme views (that ironically align closely with Fascism) is not.

Like most Brits, when the details of the Final Solution and the horrors of Auschwitz were revealed, I had enormous sympathy for The Jews. But this was dissipated by the activities of Irgun and The Stern Gang—the massacre at Beir Yassim, the assassinations of Lord Moyne and Folke Bernadotte, the bombing of the King David Hotel, the cold blooded execution of unarmed British soldiers, and the hanging of two captured British NCOs in an orchard, the pictures of which caused my grandmother to exclaim:

“Hitler wasn’t wrong.”

Even at my young age her comment made my blood run cold – but I do understand the strength of her emotions. She lost brothers in WWI, and she lost many nights sleep and died young because of the stress of WWII when her sons and their cousins went to war to fight the evils of Fascism. By some miracle they all survived—she did not.

            My grandmother was an Orange Lodge Protestant banner carrying Sermon on The Mount Socialist from Greenock, Scotland. She is the backbone of my book THE GULF “Reaping the Whirlwind”. She is real, and the stories in the book are journalistic, based on events I witnessed during 40 years in the Mideast, and the archetypes of the expatriate characters who wash up there for whatever reason.

            Read Layla and Uncle Tom’s story in my book: the Christian Palestinian woman and ruin of an elderly Englishman who against all the brutal odds tried to run a Church of England orphanage near Ramallah—and failed.

You can preview my book at:

www.amazon.com/author/mikerichards

and download it if you have a Kindle. Or if you prefer a paperback yo can buy from:

www.thebookdepository.co.uk

They offer free delivery worldwide

 

 

Moors & Christians go Hollywood

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Yesterday I blogged about the MOROS y CRISTIANOS Fiesta in our small Mediterranean town in Spain saying nobody wants to be a Christian because, while the Moors dress up in splendid robes and jewels and swagger down the avenida smoking fine Cuban cigars, the Christians drag along in grey chain mail and a white sheet with a red cross. Well they have solved the recruitment problem.

After a 10 year gap I attended the grand parade last evening and the Christians now swagger first down the avenida smoking cigars and dressed up in shiny armour and winged helmets that owe more to Darth Vader than history – in fact the whole parade in typically Hollywood fashion sacrifices history for effect and became more like glamorous Carnival in Rio.

The parade started with beautiful jet-black Andalucian stallions being ridden at high speed up and down the avenida, stopping occasionally to prance and dance. These are the tallest and most elegant horses you have ever seen – and they still have the pretty head and arched neck of their much smaller Arab thoroughbred ancestors. And the riders dressed like Russell Crowe in GLADIATOR.

Then came ranks of Christian soldiers looking very aggressive in their body armour carrying pikes and huge halberds and accompanied by bands playing with thunderous drumming, wailing fifes and triumphant sounding brass (the Spanish love noise but Alhamdulillah [Thanks to God] we were spared fireworks).

I thought Christianity was about peace and love, but these Christians, particularly the Knights Templars in their faces hidden behind highly polished medieval helmets with the pointed visors closed, and white banners with a black Maltese Cross, looked fuller of hate than love. And then a break from history: ranks of female soldiers with polished breast plates suitably modified and lots of flashing thigh between leather knee boots and micro- mini skirts.

And then another break with history:

A flock of geese being herded by two beautiful young maidens clad only in sackcloth (vestal virgins?), followed by simple little carts pulled by mules and containing goats and attended by more maidens throwing packets of raisins to the crowd – and then donkey carts being attended by Mexican peasants??????

But the Moors had the finale:

First a succession of scantily clad dancing girls waving flimsy veils around their bodies – how did Salome get in there? – or possibly they represented the concubines of the Harem? And close on their heels came the resplendent ranks of Moors looking much less warlike than the Christians, and hell bent on enjoying life. (Let’s face it the dancing girls were just ahead). And the same loud and insistent drumming, and the fifes now playing the sliding quarter tone Arab scales and not the Celtic pentatonics of the Christians – and the brass less triumphant but shouting defiance.

And then the grand finale:

A splendid Caliph in all of his pomp riding a huge ornate float pulled by two magnificent brown bulls (the ultimate Mediterranean symbol of masculine virility) attended by a bodyguard on a camel that also pranced and danced. The camel had  multi-coloured hand woven tribal saddle bags and tassles – and the dark skinned rider had the sky blue head dress of the TUAREG – the fiercely independent North African nomad.

            For all of its Hollywoodization this Fiesta still has meaning. It is a symbol of the ongoing ideological struggle between Christianity and Islam. But there is no animosity. No priests or Imams or mullahs are to be seen – and after the parade the Moors and the Christians pull the turbans and helmets off their sweaty heads and drink a beer or three, and have  a few tapas in one of the many bars that line our Calle de Marques de Campos.

            These troops of Moors or Christians, and their associated bands, come from the villages in the hills that surround us. This is the highlight of their year. Throughout the year they meet weekly to design and make the costumes, to rehearse the band and the swaying slow march that owes a lot to the Saudi Arabian Bedouin sword dance.

            The women sew, the men march, and little children start at 4 on kettle drum or fife. Teenage girls play flute or clarinet or dance the Dance of the 7 veils (or these days of equality march as soldiers), and fathers play saxophone and grandfathers play trombone or tuba. This is what builds a community and anchors it to its history.

            In Sha’Allah (God Willing) this Fiesta will never die, and In Sha’Allah I will see it again before I die.

            If my love of human history – and its indomitable spirit of survival in spite of the actions of venal, corrupt and incompetent politicians – is showing, then I am glad. To find out more about how The West has screwed up its relations with the Middle East and Islam read my book THE GULF “Reaping the Whirlwind”.

You can preview it by following my URL:

www.amazon.com/author/mikerichards

and download it as an E-book if you have a Kindle, or you can buy it in paperback from:

www.thebookdepository.co.uk

They offer free delivery worldwide.

Nobody wants to be a Christian?

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I am presently living in Spain which, as you probably know, was ruled by the Arabs for almost 700 years – and they have left an indelible mark on its architecture, cuisine and music – and on its dramatic and barbaric take on life and death in the hot and passionate afternoon that led to bullfighting. It was the ultimate bullfight aficionado Ernest Hemingway who wrote “Africa begins at The Pyrenees”.

It is a hot and humid August on our Mediterranean coast. The silly season in the UK and the time of fiestas in Spain – and the biggest of all is the “Moros y Cristians” (Moors & Christians) that celebrates the driving out of the Moors from Spain by the “Reyes Catolicas”, the Catholic Kings Ferdinand and Isabela.

In many towns this ends with a big parade of men – this is of course a macho culture – dressed either as Moors or Christians, accompanied by prancing horses and bands playing that swirling quarter tone scale, Arab influenced Spanish music that you hear at the bullfights that raises the hairs on your neck. And it is the Moors that occupy centre stage.

They link arms in groups of eight and slow march in a swaying and hypnotic rhythm down the very centre of the Avenidas dressed in the finest silk and satin robes with huge turbans on their heads and long fat Cuban cigars in their bejeweled fingers. The Christians straggle behind in no particular order dressed in grey chain mail covered with a white tabard with a simple red cross.

Nobody wants to be a Christian in that parade and they are far outnumbered by the Moors. It is a scene worthy of SHEHERAZADE.

If you want more insights into the fascinating, vibrant, atavistic and sometimes cruel and frightening world of Islam read my book THE GULF “Reaping the Whirlwind” – a series of stories of about expatriates, washed up The Arabian/Persian Gulf for whatever reason, trying to put their lives together in a rapidly changing and radically different culture.

You can preview my book at:

www.amazon.com/author/mikerichards

and download it as an ebook if you have a Kindle. Or if you prefer a paperback you can order from:

www.thebookdepository.co.uk

They offer free delivery worldwide.

 

 

Reaping the Whirlwind

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John Keays very fine book “Sowing the Wind” ends with a chapter called, quite naturally, “Reaping the Whirlwind” in which he identifies the events of 9/11 as an inevitable consequence of The West’s misguided and mismanaged foreign policies in The Middle East. While I agree with that as a first analysis you need to look at the motives behind The Wests’ policies to understand the madness.

It’s all about oil— Black Gold— big easy money that is the root of all evil. If there had been no oil the only foreigners living in the Middle East would be a few archaeologists and biblical scholars being driven mad by the heat, dust and flies—and thieving Bedouins.

Before WWI Winston Churchill said “Oil is the ultimate prize equated with world mastery” and it was the struggle for that world mastery that has caused the problems —and conflicts. After WWI Britain and France carved up the old Ottoman Empire: the French took Syria and Lebanon—and the dominant British artificially created Jordan, Iraq and Kuwait by drawing lines on maps of the empty deserts—and created the Persian oil industry.

The Arabian Gulf was just a neglected backwater described in common parlance as “The arsehole of The Empire with Abadan all the way up.”

Payback for Britain’s neglect came when the USA found their way in through the fabulous oil wealth of Saudi Arabia, and then fought two clandestine wars against Britain trying to take over the British Protectorates of the Trucial States (now the UAE) and Muscat & Oman. Having failed to take over the Arabian Peninsula they turned their attention to Persia (Iran) and the CIA overthrew the democratically elected government of Mosedeq and installed the despicable, corrupt and despotic SHAH.

(And Russia invaded Afghanistan trying to get ice bound Mother Russia into Iran and the oil wealth and warm waters of THE GULF)

I first visited and worked in THE GULF in the 60s when oil was below US$5/barrel and it was a system of feudal Emirates on the Arabian side—and a disparate tribal society struggling to establish social democracy on the Persian side.   

And then in the 70s The Gulf States seized control of their oil assets and created OPEC (The Organization of Petroleum Exporting Countries) and raised the price of oil to US25/barrel.  And in spite of Kenneth Galbraith and other eminent economists’ predictions it did not ruin The West—it produced an economic boom. 

All those zillions of petrodollars were recycled in the 70s and 80s in rapid modernization and construction projects that made Riyadh, Dubai, Abu Dhabi, Qatar and Bahrain glittering temples of Western consumerism and varying levels of Western hedonism in the middle of what are still essentially feudal and tribal societies—and created the tensions with traditional Islam that led to terrorism.

It was Western greed and lust for world domination that created this situation. Big easy money always corrupts.

In my book THE GULF: “Reaping the Whirlwind” I illuminate the consequences of that greed and arrogance by telling the very human stories of expatriates— damaged souls—flotsam and jetsam of western societies who washed up in The Gulf for whatever reason. Veterans traumatized by fighting politicians’ wars, failed marriages, drug crazed teenage children, bankruptcy, downsizing and redundancy etc.

Hopefully it will give you some insights into the fascinating, complex and frightening world that threatens Western security: the biblical location of The Garden of Eden—and Armageddon.

You can preview my book, and download it if you have a Kindle at:

www.amazon.com/author/mikerichards

Or you can buy it as a paperback with free delivery worldwide from:

www.thebookdepository.co.uk

(Show) Business as usual

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Why anybody with a shred of intelligence is surprised at the disgusting behavior of Jimmy Saville and other UK showbiz personalities, surprises me. At first glance it seems confined to the UK (is paedophilia truly an English disease) until you remember Michael Jackson and the young boys who slept in his bed – and the consequent multi-million dollar payouts.

In general show business personalities are shallow, vain, and selfish; egocentric reprobates whose public image (these days carefully groomed and media managed by clever PR people) bear no relation to the real person and their dark secrets. 80% of people in “the Business” are from broken homes and/or abusive relationships – and have substance abuse problems. Look at the recent suicide/accidental overdose of GLEE star Cory Monteith, not to mention Janis Joplin, Keith Urban etc.

In my book THE GULF “Reaping the Whirlwind” I deal with all sorts of characters who wash up in The Arabian/Persian Gulf for all manner of reasons. One such was Peter Moore, a decent enough fellow (but probably a bit vain and egocentric too) who happened to get very rich in the oilfields – and that attracted the undesirables. In his case he married Angie, a popular wannabe actress who turned out to be drunken, lecherous and promiscuous with a rather unhealthy interest in S&M. Eventually Peter divorced her  – and she walked away with a sizeable chunk of his fortune squandered on designer clothes, botox and cocaine. But that is just Peter’s back-story.

We pick up his story in the 2000s on the rebound when he joined the hedonistic movers and shakers in the manic property boom in Dubai, and rebuilt his fortune. Unfortunately history repeats itself, and he fell for a stunning 19 year old East European whore who led him a merry dance, and cost him most of his new found wealth – but for very different reasons. Old Habits Die Hard – and maybe that should have been the title of the story.

But I titled Peter’s story “The Girl who went to the Moon” as Chapter 10 in my book which you can review by following the link:

www.amazon.com/author/mikerichards

and you can download it if you have a Kindle.

If you do not have a Kindle and/or prefer to have a real book you can order the paperback from my publisher:

www.feedaread.com

or from

www.thebookdepository.co.uk

They offer free delivery worldwide.

 

 

 

False Economy

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Saddam Hussein’s Iraq was brutal and oppressive, but provided you steered clear of politics, it was an efficient and functioning society. He was clever enough to provide the general populace with decent jobs, food and education.  And all the Second Gulf War did was to replace that efficient society with an inefficient society that is just as brutal and oppressive. And between the two Gulf Wars the sanctions did not work.

Why anybody with a shred of intelligence believes that economic sanctions against rogue nations achieve their ends (viz. Zimbabwe, Iraq, Iran etc.) is beyond me.

I guess the theory, like most theories, is sound. Make the populace suffer and they will rise against their rulers. Most of us want to live a quiet life and just have a roof over our heads, put food on the table, and educate our kids. We may grumble about prices and taxes – but politics is a bore (Showbusiness for ugly people) and we grin and bear it.  Only when the filthy rich and powerful start grinding our faces in an ever increasing workload and tax burden – and threaten the lives of our children – do we rise up.

But in practice the Iraq sanctions did not cause the populace to rise up in spite of the sufferings including an estimated 300,000 children dying for lack of medicines. And all the “oil for food” program did was create a huge black market in illicit oil vouchers that enriched and corrupted Russian, French and Indonesian  government officials, private American investors – and besmirched the reputation of Swiss independent inspection companies and the UN at the highest level including Kofi Annan and Benan Savan.

The effects of all of these shenanigans are illustrated in the story False Economy in my book THE GULF “Reaping the Whirlwind”

Poor Captain Bob, ruined by the false economics of so-called free market capitalism, still has enough dignity to gather the tattered shreds of his self-respect and blow the whistle on the oil for food program in spite of the consequences.

Preview my book by following my URL:

www.amazon.com/author/mikerichards

And you can download it as an ebook if you have a Kindle for just US$2.99.

If you prefer a paperback in your hands you can buy from:

www.thebookdepository.co.uk

They offer free delivery worldwide.

 

Belly Dancers and Big Bikes

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One of the feature writers in THE WEEKEND AUSTRALIAN wrote about a party she attended where there was a beautiful young belly dancer, and her husband could not take his eyes off her, and talked to her for an hour after her performance. But the writer said she was not jealous because he has the same sort of intensity about big superbikes (pull the other one).

But seriously, the male animal is programmed to respond to a number of stimuli, including nubile maidens and powerful steeds. And thinking of the recent UK scandals of Showbiz personalities being indicted for having sex with underage girls, there has to be a degree of compassion (but not for the depraved like Jimmy Saville who interfered with 9 year old boys and girls, and the handicapped). Being surrounded by underage Lolitas desperate to be in the limelight must be a terrible temptation – especially where alcohol loosens inhibitions.

So do we insist on strict moral judgments – or do we deal pragmatically with the world as it is?

It must be equally tempting for pretty young girls to use their sexuality to get what they think they want (after all belly dancers are highly regarded in the Arab World).  And having done that, it’s not too much of a stretch for some of them to become call-girls; a (relatively) easy way to make an affluent living. And if prostitution is the oldest profession then war must be the second oldest. We have always had it, still have it, and probably will always have it. So is it wrong to make a living from war, or prostitution?

Someone has to make the guns, missiles, ammunition, airplanes – and someone has to supply, distribute and sell them. It’s a business like any other. If you don’t – someone  else will. And someone will one day take a maiden’s virginity and she will lose her innocence. And if you don’t – someone else will. And if she uses sex in order to survive in the fog of a war zone who can blame her? It’s a bastard world – and I didn’t invent it.

Read my story IF YOU DON’T . . .  in my book THE GULF: “Reaping the Whirlwind”

You can find it and preview it by following my URL:

www.amazon.com/author/mikerichards

and you can download it if you have a Kindle. If not you can purchase the paperback from:

www.thebookdepository.co.uk

To find it just type in Mike Richards. They offer free delivery worldwide.

I’ve never known a woman who couldn’t dance

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We call it dancing—but why do you think discotheques are so popular with young women?

I have written before about the innate artistry and sensitivity of tribal women in the Middle East—particularly Persia—that enables them to preserve and refresh their nomadic culture and myths by weaving vibrant and stunningly beautiful rugs. Another gift that women carry is the innate ability to sway their supple bodies sensually—and erotically—to music and the rhythm of the drum. This is a talent lacking in most men, except those of African/Afro Caribbean ancestry.

Through all our layers of so-called civilization women have maintained an overwhelming biological urge to choose the best mate, and to reproduce healthy and strong children. And in most societies they do this by making bold eye contact and displaying their bodies the best way they can. Even in Saudi Arabia—where women’s bodies are covered by a black obayah, and their heads and faced covered by a hijab—the nubile maidens make sure that their obayahs are tailored to the contours of their bodies, and their hijabs are so flimsy that you can see their faces, or reveal their heavily made-up eyes. And repressed as they no doubt are, when they are in all female company, off come the obayahs and hijabs and they dance crazy mad.

When I worked in Saudi Arabia I directed a number of training videos, and my professional American cameraman was invited to big Saudi wedding, and allowed to film the womens’ party. (The receptions are segregated into a male and a female gathering). He described it in detail as the most erotic thing he had ever seen, and I have tried to replay this in my story I’VE NEVER KNOWN A WOMAN WHO WOULDN’T DANCE, in my book THE GULF: “Reaping the Whirlwind”

In true journalistic style my story was authenticated by a woman friend who had worked as a teacher in Saudi Arabia for 9 years and attended a number of weddings.

Out of shame that this is not really a work of fiction, I amended the title slightly from COULDN’T to WOULDN’T and added an imagined beginning and ending to give it context. You can read the full story—and many others about the Middle East—by following my URL:

www.amazon.com/author/mikerichards

and downloading the Kindle edition. Or if you prefer a paperback you can order it from;

www.thebookdepository.co.uk

They offer free delivery worldwide.

The iron Curtain – and the Irony of Iron Man

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It is ironic that the rigorous training schedules of the West’s Iron Man competitors grew out of Eastern Europe’s ruthless selection of gifted children to live their lives as elite athletes to prove the superiority of Communism over decadent capitalism. And that irony deepens when you consider that the pastime of competitive running for sport grew-out from dedicated amateur athletes: British Oxbridge graduates running for the joy of it. And the fashion for jogging and marathon running en-masse grew out from dissolute British colonial administrators’ bored with boozing and eating public school comfort food. They called themselves “drinkers with a running problem”, and founded the Hash House Harriers.

The Hash was founded in the Selangor Club in Malaya before WW II, based on the British public school Hares & Hounds paper chase.  A few good runners would speed off and leave a paper trail for the snuffling hounds to follow. It wasn’t that serious, and there were “Tiffin Wagons” along the way to provide liquid refreshment. The idea caught on rapidly with British colonial expats, and “Kennels” were established in Kabul, Sinai, Addis Ababa and The Falklands. It died off during the war, but was revived shortly after, and kennels were established again wherever British expats gathered. There is even one in New York (and there was one in The Green Zone in Baghdad during the Second Gulf War).

For the elite few the running was more serious, and led to “Chariots of Fire” privileged Oxbridge graduates like Dr. Roger Bannister and Christopher Chataway, who gave their all to break the 4 minute mile barrier, and establish British dominance of middle distance running for two decades. The response of the Eastern Bloc took the form of athletes like the original Iron Man, Czech colonel Emile Zatopek, who pushed through his pain threshold by sheer willpower and swept aside the Oxbridge amateurs. The West worked hard to catch up, and the fierce determination of American athletes to sacrifice all and to win at any cost re-established dominance.  But “win at all costs” comes at a price (not the least the present drugs in sport scandals) – and for a while at least the Russians and their satellites found that finishing second and relying on charisma sometimes has its benefits.

Read my story THE MAN WITH THE FACE OF A FISHERMAN, based on The Hash House Harriers and the Bahrain half-marathon, in my book THE GULF “Reaping the Whirlwind”. You can preview the book, and download it in Kindle by following my URL:

www.amazon.com/author/mikerichards

Or if you prefer hard copy you can purchase a paperback with free delivery worldwide from: www.thebookdepository.co.uk

Thanks for your support

VIVA ESPANYA

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I have not posted for over a week because we have moved back to Spain after 11 months in Australia – and I had forgotten what fun Spain is. Nothing works. We have had problems with water, electricity, Sat TV and finally with internet – only overcome this morning. But what is most scary is how quiet Spain is as a consequence of the GFC and the Eurozone crisis.

We arrived in Barcelona mid-morning, picked up a hire car and drove to the airport TRYP Hotel as usual, too tired after 22 hours of flying to attempt the 500 Km drive home. Usually the roads around the hotel are jam-packed and it is difficult to find parking. There was a 60% availability of parking spaces. And next morning when we left at 7 am – normally rush hour in a busy commercial centre like Barcelona – there was very little traffic on the roads. And we had the main highway from Tarragona to Valencia – the Autopista del Mediterraneo – almost to ourselves. Few people can afford the tolls?

How long will it be before the young people will rebel against 40% unemployment and cause serious, and I mean serious, civil unrest?

And still the incompetent and corrupt politicians, and the greedy and incompetent bankers and financiers, insist that laissez faire capitalism (where 1% of the population control 90% of the wealth, and want even more) is the correct system for a civilized society.

Perhaps now I will find the motivation to finish my second book GULF II “The Beginning of Sorrows”. In the meantime you can access and review and download my first book THE GULF “Reaping the Whirlwind” by following my URL:

http://www.amazon.com/author/mikerichards

This shows through the stories of expatriates washed up in The Arabian/Persian Gulf the consequences of the West’s botched foreign policies and greed for cheap oil. History repeats itself – first time tragedy, second time farce.