Remembering (news of) Iran
Memory is a peculiar thing. For instance, if you were to ask me what I was doing last Tuesday I would be hard pushed to give you a clear answer. But then recently, while following the news of the recent attacks on Iran, I suddenly found myself back in 1979 and walking, as I did most mornings, to where I worked in central Bristol.
I was crossing the bottom of St Michael’s Hill, listening to the news on headphones – except that I can’t have been because there were no mobile phones in those days. I must have listened to the radio earlier, while I had breakfast.
The news was full of accounts of the unrest accompanying the overthrow of the Shah of Iran. There were young people facing armed soldiers – a situation similar to those we have seen recently. I remember hearing how unarmed protesters were being advised to confront soldiers in threes. Two would be shot but the third would take the soldier’s weapon. I think it is that image that has stayed with me all those years.
I don’t propose drawing parallels; I’m not sure there are any — other than the perennial image of young men and women having the naivety to hope for a better life.
A Winter Song
We went last Friday to the Long Table for an event called Winter Songs.
For those who don’t know the Long Table it is a Stroud-based social enterprise one of whose core aims is to celebrate the experience of eating together on a pay-as-you-can basis.
Friday’s event was held in the Sanctuary Room – a large, sparsely-decorated space in which we ate, fittingly, at two long tables. The high cills of the rectangular industrial windows were set with night lights and there were taller candles on the tables but, apart from that, it was the company that warmed all of our hearts.
The food was wonderful and was brought to our places by people who were clearly enjoying the evening as much as the diners.
And there was music and poetry – two songs from one, say three poems from another. I enjoyed most of it – some pieces more than others, as you might expect.
But it was one of the last songs that I will remember for a long time, Except that’s not quite right. I can’t remember it at all – I wish I could. It was by a singer and guitarist called Philippe Nash (I only found his name out later).
He sang the Christmas carol Oh Little Town of Bethlehem.
I know this carol, I imagine you might too – it’s gentle and reassuring. But that’s not how Philippe sang it.
Starting with a cycle of three chords on the guitar he began to sing the words in low, subdued tones and he hadn’t progressed beyond the first verse before I realised that this was a song of mourning.
The words of the carol are beautiful:
O little town of Bethlehem,
how still we see thee lie!
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
the silent stars go by.
But also deeply devotional
Cast out our sin and enter in
be born in us today etc.
and Philippe sang them all – word for word. But it was those three haunting guitar chords that spoke most clearly. More than anything else they spoke of sadness, and they spoke of shame.
Faced with what is happening in the world, a natural response might be to voice feelings of protest or outrage. Philippe’s song worked on an entirely different level.
It touched me more deeply than I can express.
On Lego
During a recent visit to Bristol’s Cribbs Causeway shopping centre, I found myself outside the Lego shop. It was the first time I’d noticed it, to be honest.
“You go on.” I said to Mrs Wormwood. “I’ll catch you up in Waterstones.”
On stepping inside, I was greeted by a friendly young man who asked if he could help me.
“Yes.” I said, “Show me the Big Boys’ Lego kits.”
He clearly understood exactly what I meant and directed me to a number of large boxes right at the front of the shop. There was a Lego version of Ernest Shackleton’s ship, the Endurance; there was an Eiffel Tower, a Notre Dame and a Hogwarts.
I asked to see the most expensive kit and the assistant pulled out a huge box containing all nine thousand and ninety pieces of the Titanic.
I should explain: this recent enthusiasm started when helping my 10-year old grandson assemble a Lego model of the Audi RS Q e-tron, that he had been given as a Christmas present. I won’t go into all the details but the fact is, I ended up making most of it myself — not that that was a problem; far from it.
And that model of the Titanic certainly looked fascinating. 135 cm long and, as the write-up claims, ‘providing many hours of building pleasure.’ And of course, that’s the main point — the building pleasure. After all, what are you going to do with it once it’s finished? Stick it on the sideboard? I don’t think so.
No, arguably the most beautifully designed item in the Lego box is the instruction booklet. No need for language here. It’s all done with step-by-step diagrams. The Audi RS was great in this respect. In parts it was so complex that I had no idea what I was actually building. It simply took shape under my busy fingers. I’d go so far as to suggest that the perfect Lego kit would be one you could go on building for ever.
So turning away from the Titanic, I said: “Come to think of it – it’s the Lego Technic sets that interest me most.”
“Ah,” replied the assistant, approvingly. “Those are just down here.
And, indeed there were the Lego Technic sets with their gears and gimbals. This was more like it. There were a number of flashy cars, two motorbikes, a crane and a digger — all very impressive and, no doubt, extremely satisfying to construct. All the same, I had the feeling they could do so much better.
After pondering for a while, I hit upon what would be my perfect Lego Technic model — the Difference Engine, designed by Charles Babbage in the 1820s and universally acknowledged as the mother and father of all computing machines. With its 25,000 separate parts, gear-wheels, levers and shafts, it would be the crowning glory of the Lego Technic collection.
Admittedly, constructing a machine capable of doing little more than churning out tables of logarithms would have a somewhat specialist appeal. But believe me, there are enough geeks out there to make it a bestseller — and, what’s more, quite a few of them are loaded, which is useful given what would undoubtedly be the eye-watering price tag.
More on recognition for Palestine
Things are moving quickly.
I read yesterday that the Foreign Secretary, David Lammy has come out in support of recognising the Palestinian State. I like to think that the email I sent him yesterday might have played a part, but I doubt it somehow. And anyway, it seems that Kier Starmer is against the idea and has opted instead to make a show of dropping in a small amount of aid by air.
An item on Newsnight (25/07/2025) suggested why this might be.
In this piece, Kim Darroch, the former British ambassador to the US, explained that when President Trump (and it is Trump, after all who has the power too end all this at a stroke) is put on the spot in public, he is inclined to respond aggressively. By contrast, in private conversations, that are more suited to his favourite deal-making conceit, there is a chance of reaching some sort of agreement. It was Kim Darroch’s assertion that Starmer understands this and has made it the key to his dealings with the president.
According to this line of reasoning British recognition of a Palestinian State would be just the sort of thing likely to send Trump into a tantrum and while it might nurture our ongoing sense of outrage, it would arguably do little to bring an end to the genocide.
So I am less clear about this issue than I was when I wrote on Friday. All the same, there remains something that I believe could be highly effective in helping bring an end to the ongoing tragedy in Gaza, namely a widespread campaign to end the ban on international journalists. One hears it stated again and again how accurate and reliable reporting from inside Gaza is not possible while journalists continue to be denied access by the occupying power.
I believe we should challenge this ruling. At some point in the future, journalists and film crews will go into Gaza and testify to what has been done there. There is surely no better time for this to happen than right now.
Time to recognise the Palestinian state
Let me say right off that, when it comes to activism, my record is a bit thin and I know that many of you are far more assiduous than I am at voicing your concerns over matters of injustice, stupidity, greed or corruption.
But if like me you find yourself angry, heartbroken or impotent in the face of what is happening daily in Gaza I would urge you to do something about it – however seemingly insignificant. I myself have just spent an hour writing to the Foreign Secretary which, as far as insignificant gestures go, must come near the top of the list.
I wrote, urging him to follow President Macron’s example and to declare that the British government recognises the Palestinian state. I didn’t spend too long over it as I suspect the volume of email on this subject is reaching a magnitude where, were we still in the olden days when letters were written on paper, it would be being weighed by the ton.
While I was at it, I asked David Lammy to make representations to the Israeli government to allow foreign journalists access to Gaza. If Israel is really doing all it can to ensure the wellbeing of innocent civilians you’d think they would welcome seeing it confirmed.
The email address is fcdo.correspondence@fcdo.gov.