Sometimes so many people came to hear Jesus that those of us who tried to look after Him were filled with anguish that He would be overwhelmed by the outpouring of pain that flooded over Him. There was so much human misery, so much injustice affecting people with suffering that we women who tried to ease his passage by letting Him stay in our houses, or who brought Him food and wine, or who helped some of the people seeking His healing, thought He would simply fade away with the weight of this demand.

How did so many hear about Him? That was a marvel to us. It was impossible to even count the people. Jesus would go Galilee and people would crowd Him on the beaches or even push Him into a boat on to the water with their cries, "Lord, Help me". The disciples tried to make people form lines, and await their turn to see Him. Peter and the others sometimes tried to heal the blind, deaf, bleeding, demon possessed and other sick people. The disciples even had a few successes but it was always Jesus who was most able, by crying out to Heaven in His extremely loud voice, "Father help this person! May Your will be done in their life!" that people were granted their wish. I often wondered if the people who had been blind and could then see, or the people who threw away their crutches could really walk, or if the excitement of having Jesus pray for them so excited them that they imagined themselves healed and later, in the daily tedium of their lives, they  returned to their set ways, so the precious gift of healing was lost.

I asked Jesus this very question once and He replied, "Some who believe are truly healed. That means their entire being has been changed because God has graced them personally. Sometimes, though, the responsibility of being helped by God the Father becomes too great and they are not able to continue being faithful to the degree that helped them to gain healing when they came before me. And so they lose their miracle. Some do grow in faith and even if their eyesight or other infirmity does not wholly heal, they have been so touched, that they change their view of life and live completely differently after meeting me. Those people sustain their miracle."

"One man was sitting on his mat by the roadside begging for alms. When I stopped and bent over him, he looked into my eyes and I told him to pick up his mat and walk. Understanding filled him and he realised that he did not have to sit there waiting on the generosity of others. He could pick up his mat and walk. It was this confrontation with someone who believed in him which made him change his entire attitude. That man went home. Instead of sitting in the corner, expecting to be waited on, he started helping his wife and children. He even went out into the fields and is now a farmer who is able to feed his family. That was true healing. Not all who encounter me are able to take the chance I give them of a new life."

"And how are you able to help them?" I asked.

"If when they see me they see their salvation, they are cured. If not they are not. I came here to help and to heal. That was the gift my Father gave me and I give it freely, as it was given to me. But only those who wish to be helped can be. If they ask me for healing but go away and suddenly ask themselves why they believed in the first place, those people afflicted by doubt could easily become blind again, or deaf, of start bleeding or regain, or suffer from whatever their infirmity was. To be totally cured they must realise that they have been given a chance to live differently. If they do take up the call to become fully themselves, they can indeed be healed of blindness or anything else. But even if their blindness does not totally go away and their sight is not totally restored, they will have been given a secondary but even more important gift - the realisation that God loves them personally. As a child of God they are precious to God. With this faith that they matter to God they can indeed find ways to overcome their disablities and make a life for themselves amongst other people. God has pity on all people's disabilities, both physical, emotional and mental. Wherever possible He wishes people to be healed of their disorders. But even more than this, God wants people to realise that they are personally and individually important. They may have one leg which is too short or their skin disease has not totally cleared up. Despite this they are important and everyone around them must help the sick and the disabled. It is God's will that all sick people be cared for by those around them. The ideal is that all people become physically healthy but if they  cannot, they must not be cast out or left uncared for. God made this earth to be shared with all and by all. It is not only for the physically perfect. God loves everyone, especially those who suffer. It is His divine command that all people are cared for, as it is His command that the very earth itself and its creatures be respected."

Sometimes so many people came to hear Jesus that those of us who tried to look after Him were filled with anguish that He would be overwhelmed by the outpouring of pain that flooded over Him. There was so much human misery, so much injustice affecting people with suffering that we women who tried to ease his passage by letting Him stay in our houses, or who brought Him food and wine, or who helped some of the people seeking His healing, thought He would simply fade away with the weight of this demand.

How did so many hear about Him? That was a marvel to us. It was impossible to even count the people. Jesus would go Galilee and people would crowd Him on the beaches or even push Him into a boat on to the water with their cries, "Lord, Help me". The disciples tried to make people form lines, and await their turn to see Him. Peter and the others sometimes tried to heal the blind, deaf, bleeding, demon possessed and other sick people. The disciples even had a few successes but it was always Jesus who was most able, by crying out to Heaven in His extremely loud voice, "Father help this person! May Your will be done in their life!" that people were granted their wish. I often wondered if the people who had been blind and could then see, or the people who threw away their crutches could really walk, or if the excitement of having Jesus pray for them so excited them that they imagined themselves healed and later, in the daily tedium of their lives,they  returned to their set ways so the precious gift of healing was lost.

I asked Jesus this very question once and He replied, "Some who believe are truly healed. That means their entire being has been changed because God has graced them personally. Sometimes, though, the responsibility of being helped by God the Father becomes too great and they are not able to continue being faithful to the degree which helped heal them when they came before me. And they lose their miracle. Some do grow in faith and even if their eyesight or other informity does not wholly heal, they have been so touched, that they change their view of life and live completely differently after meeting me and so their miracle is sustained."

"One man who was sitting on his mat by the roadside begging for alms. When I stopped and bent over him, he looked into my eyes and I told him to pick up his mat and walk. Understanding filled him and he realised that he did not have to sit there waiting on the generosity of others. He could pick up his mat and walk. It was this confrontation with someone who believed in him which made him change his entire attitude. That man went home and instead of sitting in the corner, expecting to be waited on, he started helping his wife and children. He even went out into the fields and is now a farmer who is able to feed his family. That was true healing. Not all who encounter me are able to take the chance I give them of a new life."

"And how are you able to help them?" I asked.

"If when they see me they see their salvation, they are cured. If not they are not. I came here to help and to heal. That was the gift my Father gave me and I give it freely, as it was given to me. But only those who wish to be helped can be. If they ask me for healing but go away and suddenly ask themselves why they believed in the first place, those people afflicted by doubt could easily become blind again, or deaf, of start bleeding or regain, or whatever their infirmity was. To be totally cured they must realise that they have been given a chance to live differently. If they do take up the call to become fully themselves, they can indeed be healed of blindness or anything else. But if their blindness does not totally go away and their sight is not totally restored, they will have been given a secondary but even more important gift - the realisation that God loves them personally. As a child of God they are precious to God. With this faith that they matter to God they can indeed find ways to overcome their disablities and make a life for themselves amongst other people. God has pity on all people's disabilities, both physical and mental. Wherever possible He wishes people to be healed of their disorders. But even more, God wants people to realise that they are important. They may have one leg which is too short or their skin disease has not totally cleared up. Despite this they are important and everyone around them must help the sick and the disabled. It is God's will that all sick people be cared for by those around them. The ideal is that all people become physically healthy but if they  cannot, they must not be cast out or left uncared for. God made this earth to be shared with all and by all. It is not only for the physically perfect. God loves everyone, especially those who suffer. It is His divine command that all people are cared for, as it is His command that the very earth itself and its creatures be respected."

One night, after a trying day trudging along rough paths to reach a town where the local inn keeper almost turned us away as a ploy for forcing a higher price, we were sitting in a dirty, dishevelled room.  I asked myself for the hundreth time why I had left home to follow a person whom most people saw as a tramp. My friend Miriam, my sisters and my parents had all tried to stop me and yet here I was.

My feet were sore, my mouth dry, the local wine was undrinkable and I only had a bite of mouldy bread. I gathered my shawl about me and slowly crept out of the room, not that any of the disciples  noticed. All of them were wondering why Jesus had brought along a woman and some had crude suggestions.

We were beside the sea and so I found a spot under some tamarind trees which sparse shade covered me with their wispy branches. I sat looking at the sea rolling majestically in and out. The stars were shining and as I stretched my legs out into the warm sand I started to breathe more calmly, as the anxieties and disturbances of the day let go their grip and my body started to unwind.

"Mary..." He spoke like a sigh. I was startled and looked at Him in surprise. "Did you think I hadn't noticed your leaving?" He sat down beside me, His sandalled feet resting in the sand.

Suddenly I tensed. Had I offended Him? He shook His head. "You can't offend me, whatever you do."

I did not dare look at Him but sat silently holding on to what He had said, pushing it about in my mind. My entire life had been spent offending someone or other. I was in that dark mood when bitterness against others spilled into self mockery.

"Why do you think you've done anything bad?" He asked. "If you were to change your view and look carefully at how things are, you would feel happier. What counts is not the cruel words people say but how things really are. This rolling water, the stars which existed long before you and will shine on long after you are dead. You are a part of all this." He gestured the scene ahead of us. "You can no more say that Mary does bad things than that a crab does wrong when it moves sideways instead of forwards like most creatures."

I could not help glancing at Him, puzzled by the things He was saying and suppressing a guilty smile at the notion of a crab doing wrong. I looked up and saw Him. "There. You see?"

But I did not want to see. It suited me to be lowly, thinking I was bad. If I pretended to be better then better would be expected of me and that would be even more of a strain than just getting along as I was.  I also knew which word was whispered about me every time we entered a new town. I turned briefly towards Him, He must know what they said too. Did He not care how cutting people's tongues could be?

"Mary look into yourself. You are a part of everything you see. These pebbles, this sand, these branches, this sky are who you are. You came out of this earth every bit as this tree did and you are as eternal as a star. If you hold on to this idea nothing can hurt you. One day after all the turmoil, unruly havoc, fear, destruction and grief, you will become like a star in the celestial eternity prepared for you. All the pain and discomfort of this and other worse moments, will pass."

I stared at the stars, so vivid against the velvet sky as I felt myself floating on sand, rocked by His words as if they were rolling me back and forth along with the pebbles in the ocean, till I was alseep.

This piece was written while I was listening to Hagen Quartet - Maurice Ravel - String Quartet in F - Allegro moderato, Très doux (1/4)      [link]

When I was in my twenties I was very unhappy. I was filled with anguish and dread. I could not make a life for myself in our small town of Magdala, on the western side of the Sea of Galilee. I lived with my parents and sister in a house near some land where my father farmed. We were not rich but we were not poor either. I should have been happy as other girls were but I was born with a feeling that I could never be as other women. I did not wish to marry a man, however worthy, chosen for me by my family. I did not wish to live as my mother lived, always with her head bowed, never able to express herself openly because it was the man of the house whose ideas and opinions ruled how everyone in the house behaved. I wanted to be free to make my own life, independently of the need to bow to the rules of the Temple and the rules of the Romans. I knew I was destined to be unhappy because where I lived women had to be humble and lowly and never do anything out of the ordinary. I wanted to be able to live a life in which I achieved something instead of having to walk around with my head covered as if I were ashamed of my hair, which was my best feature. I had long brown locks which shone when the sun caught their dark glints but nobody ever saw it. It was not just vanity that made me so miserable. When I married, if I married,  I would stoop to my husband's will and be a person to fetch, carry, cook and clean only for him. I wanted to learn things and study as men did but being a woman I was destined to be nothing in the eyes of society. And as an unmarried woman, which surely was my destiny, seeing how I dreaded marriage, I was bound forever to be the lowest of the low.

One day I was praying in the Synagogue and tears welled to my eyes, as they so often did in those days. In my deep distress I was bowed over double on my prayer mat or towel. Suddenly I felt that someone was standing in front of me. Gingerly I glanced up though my down-turned lashes and saw a man's feet in rough sandals, much coarsened by walking over stony roads. His robe was none too clean either and was of a tough fibre that labourers often had woven into cloth for their garments. I dared to look up further. The man was very tall. I saw his two hands extended towards me. Again, they were the calloused, scarred hands of a workman. Who could this be who dared to reach forwards to a weeping woman?

Men never entered the women's section or gallery of the Synagogue, not even the Rabbis or the Clerks. I was so shocked at His presence that I stopped crying. When I peeked surreptitiously at His face my first impression was that I was looking at a mountain, so craggy and rugged was His face. He seemed somehow to have risen out of the earth. He had the look of sun drenched boulders and hillocks, so strong were his features and so determined his gaze. Men never looked at women, not even their wives or mothers if they could help it. Yet this man was looking straight at me.

He was not like anyone else. I learnt afterwards that everyone who met Him was instantly astonished by His face. He was clearly filled with power. It shone out of Him. All of us were shocked that when He looked at us, in that moment when each of us met Him during His ministry, we realised that He could give us anything we wanted in our hearts. He was like a brother who really loved the person He was looking at. He was not like some High Judge or Rabbi or Roman soldier or Roman Governor. He was like a loving brother. The stupid things you had done, the crimes even, the blasphemies and the rules you had broken meant nothing to Him. Unlike all others in authority He did not allude to these sins and ommissions. What mattered to Him was you. He loved you. You were precious to Him and He wanted you to be happy and whole and to live life without fear or worry. Your offenses could be swept aside, could be cancelled.

At first I did not dare lift my eyes up to His. In those days women did not look at men, if they did not wish to be rated loose women.  Yet here he was, saying my name softly, "Mary from Magdala..." For a moment I wondered how He knew me and why He was bothering with a woman. I raised my head further, almost suspiciously, wondering if He was about to tell me to leave and stop polluting the Synagogue with my sobbing. As I slowly looked upwards, having to raise my head at an odd angle because He was so tall, I saw He was looking at me with real warmth and openness, as if I really mattered to Him. How was that possible?

"Mary..." He said again, extending His hands downwards as if to lift me up. I straightened my back and looked at Him openly in amazement. All the stories I had heard about how charismatic He was were hardly truthful enough. He did not look soft and sombre as scholars and Rabbis looked but sunburnt, with long hair that was not bound up in a turban denoting His authority. My first thought was that He was like a worker in the fields, so weather beaten were His strong features. A soft sigh of surprise escaped from my open mouth. He was so different to other men that you could not believe this man could come into the Synagogue. I felt as if the Synagogue was not big enough to contain His presence. I had the fanciful notion that the sun itself was shining out from behind this man mountain. It was not that He was very much bigger than other men but that He seemed earthly, natural, like a tree or a landscape, or a lion, rather than a person.

The look in His face as He stared straight into my eyes, something no respectable man would ever do, was of infinite compassion and mercy, as if although He had just met me He loved me and I was precious to Him. I dared to look into His eyes to check if He really did not despise me in the way that many men despised women as inferior beings and it was clear. He was not looking at me with that male look of contempt and fear of contamination, as if men fear being touched or infected. He was looking at me as if I was as good as He was.

"Mary..." He sighed again; bending down to take my hands and helping me stand up. I was bewildered. If any other man had dared to touch me I would have considered that he wanted one thing only. Yet this person who did not need to pay attention to me at all, so much more important than me was He, was actually helping me up to my feet. Once I was standing, looking in wonder into His eyes, He started to smile. I could not believe it. Men did not smile at women. In fact smiling was something only for celebratory occasions like weddings. Nobody who wanted to be known as a sober adult would dare to smile in the Synagogue.

I opened my mouth but was unable to utter a syllable. I felt as if I was melting. Had He not been holding my hands I would have fallen, so much had the sight of His face made me feel faint. "All your sins are forgiven," He said. As His eyes entered my soul I felt as if all the clutter inside me - all the anguish and bitterness of being a woman in a narrow minded community - were soothed. It was as if His eyes had poured balm into my soul, healing and soothing all the accumulated pain of my two decades struggle with conformity.

The first word I whispered was "Lord!" It was all I could think of because there seemed no other way I could express my feelings about what was happening. "I have need of you," He said. I was speechless. He had need of me! How could this be? "Will you follow me?"

"Gladly!" I exclaimed. The words now came out in a rush. "I will leave everything to be with you. I will follow you wherever you go in rags on my feet, if I have to." I suddenly realised what I had said and was taken aback at my own ardour.

"Thank you Mary," He said with a humility that again surprised me. How could He have doubted that I would gladly give everything I had in His service?  As if He had read my thoughts he smiled again and said, "The path I follow is a hard one. Not everyone would wish to give up family and home to come with me."

"You are my family and you are my home!" I blurted, not even knowing why I was saying those words.

"Come then," He said and I bent down to pick up my mat and joined the disciples who were waiting around Him. It was only then that I noticed that one disciple in particular, a big burly, rough looking man was scowling. I later learnt that this man was Peter. I also saw out of the corner of my eye that many other devout people in the temple had been watching. They stood together in a group, dressed in fine clothes and head gear denoting their importance within the Synagogue. I felt a cloud of hostility coming from these people's frowning gazes. Yet Jesus walked past them quietly, as if their obvious negativity did not affect Him at all. It was at that point I realised how powerful Jesus must be. Everyone else in our society has their place and all of us bow and bend to the Roman authorities. Yet this man, who looked as if He had been hewn out of a mountain and did not wear fine clothes or any head gear, as if He was totally free of all social constraint, simply walked past them, not even bothering to look at them. When I walked past the temple authorities I kept my head bowed. But their low regard was no longer capable to stopping me from being who I was meant to be, as it had done for so many other young women before me.

People often ask me how I felt when Christ was crucified. In the ages that have just passed, thanks to artists and writers, that horrifying execution has been normalised but in our day it was something that happened only to the lowest of the low: the worst criminals, the most evil murderers. After the crucifixion we followers of Jesus went into the desert in order to escape detection. We were all thunderstruck that our precious Master, the only man any of us had ever known who had been like a moral giant, who never once did anything remotely sinful, had shared the death of the very worst offenders under the Roman yoke.

Most of the disciples were utterly bereft. Peter begged Him not to die. We needed Him to build a new Jerusalem in which all people would have a place and where all would be respected and have work to do which would give them a secure future. In this new place he spoke about the riches and the power would not be fought over by the Chief Priests who would cavil with the Romans for the security for the Israeli people. In our new earth everyone would share whatever they had and nobody would hold back wealth for themselves and their families because we were all one family.

People said then, as they do now, that human greed would ensure that Christ's wish could never become reality. No wonder he was crucified. He posed too great a threat to the people who already ruled the combustible ferment which was and always will be the Middle East. Having suffered under the Jewish state I knew in my heart that Jesus was probably not going to succeed. Those of us who were privileged to look into His eyes knew that He was the true guide to the future. I personally gave my fortune to helping Him bring about this new work. When I saw Him curing lepers, the blind, the demented like myself and when several times He showed how all can be fed and no-one need go hungry I knew following Him and helping to bring about His Kingdom would be my life's work.

He had hinted several times that His path would lead to death on the cross. When I heard the rabble calling out for His crucifixion when He came before Pilate, I knew that loud many throated inhuman cry demanding His death meant the end. The days after Jesus was arrested were filled with the wrenching emotions of grief, disbelief and the unbearable pain of injustice. Once He was in their prison I never saw Him again and was not allowed to send Him even the lightest refreshment. He had been taken out of my hands and the wrench felt as if my life had been torn in half. Any ability I once had to help Him vanished, however much I raged and cried I could do nothing to help Him.

Watching Him die on the cross was beyond description. My only way through the searing pain was to help uphold Christ's Mother Mary, whom John, Christ's other beloved disciple held in our arms. I hardly rested after His corpse was placed in the tomb. We women had washed and anointed Him in the way of our fathers and that was it, our beloved Rabboni brutally wrenched from among us so that He could not fulfil His great work of salvation for the people.

As soon as it was light on Sunday morning I made my way stealthily to the tomb and was shocked to see it open with the rock protecting it rolled to one side and the two soldiers who had previously slept beside it gone. I was stunned by the appearance of two young men with shining garments of a splendour not seen before. "He is risen," they told me.
I turned away, my eyes dazzled by their garments and saw a man, whom I took to be the gardener. "Have mercy and tell me where you have placed Him," I pleaded.
"Mary..." The voice seemed to sigh like the sea. It pulled at my heart. He sounded a long way away and yet everywhere as if the breeze had gained a human voice.
"Rabboni!" I exclaimed, almost unknowingly, still in a daze from hearing that embodied voice. I rushed towards Him, almost blindly.

"Do not touch me!" He commanded, "I have not yet ascended to my Father."

And at that moment my heart stood still and my mouth opened in amazement. This was it. This was what He had been working towards for the past three years. It was for this moment I had poured out all my savings. I looked at Him again and saw the same dark eyes radiating out unconditional love for me. What was different was that His eyes had the look of two stars which had once been heavenly bodies but now had contracted to the size of almonds. As always with His eyes it was not clear whether they were black -  a black so intense it was blue. Looking into those eyes made me feel that I was being swept up into a different state of being, human and not human at the same time. It was as if my blood, my flesh my very being was not only a part of the earth but also of everything that existed and would come to exist. I felt as if deep inside me was a secret spot that could one day be magnified enough to include everyone and everything.
"Lord..." I sighed, falling to my knees in a trance.

He bent towards me reaching His hand. His voice sighed out again, like the wind in the trees, "Go and tell the others what have seen, Mary and I will see you by and by." This moment was perfectly captured by Titian. [link]

"Yes..." I murmured. His gaze transfixed me and felt as if the spirit of the earth was caressing me, giving me strength to continue the work he had started three years previously. I understood in an instant that by dying He had become a part of the earth itself. His blood had been spilt and incorporated in the earth. His body had been broken as the branches of trees are broken to build fine temples. His spirit had been crushed from His body and had entered the air we breathe. He is the Son of God, who cannot be killed. All those evil doers had managed to do was crush Him from the form of a guiltless young man into the form of a risen saviour who had taken over the rule of the earth because His spirit had now been included in nature and could never again be driven out. The icon at the end of this video comes close to revealing the power and beauty of His gaze.  [link]

My name is Mary, known to many as the Magdalene. I am widely known as a prostitute who washed the feet of the man who saved her with her tears and then dried the blessed feet with her long, flowing hair. It is this gesture which transfomed my life and made me eternally known as the fallen woman, the sinner saint who was saved by the most powerful man who ever lived.

You would think that being known thus for eternity would fill me with shame but not so. As a woman who suffered and found it difficult to make her way in a world ordered by corrupt and power seeking men, I understand the pressures which bring women to their knees and leave them no other option than to be slaves to men's desires. Men lust after women. They cannot help it. I cannot condemn them for seeking pleasure and release in sweet sexual sin. That is an honest desire. What is not honest is how these very men then heap calumny on the heads of the poor women they use after throwing them a few coins, as if they are dogs, thus cheapening their own desire along with the vessels that released that desire by giving them pleasure.

When a woman was caught in adultery and Christ was asked to intervene, he told the one without sin to cast the first stone. None could do so after that and He, who was without sin, could not do so either and He forgave that woman and told her to go on her way. What the Gospels do not tell us is how often similar events happened. Adultery in societies where men are above women is not something any woman chose. Most of the time the man chose the woman to release his forbidden desires and she then became his scapegoat once the deed was done. How many women were stoned to death in my time on earth? I do not know the number but I do know that women were always blamed when a man could not keep his lust to himself.

Many of the so called fallen women we met were helped by Jesus. We female followers travelled with Him around Galilee as He preached the good news of liberation from all that ruins people's lives. He always quietened the public outrage surrounding these women and then gave them back their self respect, healed them of their sins and showed them that their hearts were pure and it was only their bad luck in falling out with strong men who used them and then blamed them which had brought them so low. I am not the only woman who knelt at Jesus' feet and wept with joy and repentance. So called prostitutes, most of whom being women on their own either because they had no husband or family or who were widows and orphans, then formed a part of a large group of women who were able to arrange lodgings and meals to be ready for Jesus and his followers in every town where He travelled. We were always discreet but you can imagine how the Pharisees were supicious about a preacher whose followers were mainly women.

Not all these women had wealth but those who did gave it freely for the purpose of financing Jesus' ministry. It is my greatest honour that I, Mary Magdalene, was the one who organised these missions and all the women who joined us were accountable to me. The fact that several such women were former prostitutes is something that I thank God for. I was never a prostitute. I was a wealthy woman who had been widowed when my husband died young. I will not speak ill about my husband who was an earthly man for whom conforming to all strictures, whether Jewish and Roman, was difficult and I was his whipping post. Suffice it to say that I was deeply disturbed. It is said that when I met Jesus he commanded 7 demons to leave my body before my spirit could be free.

In those days people believed in invisible forces which abused and tormented people until thy screamed out in agony. I never saw myself as inhabited by unseen evil foces. I simply knew that as a widow my life on this earth was limited to existing in the shadows. Being childless I had nothing to live for. For this reason I raged and cried and kicked at the boundaries, knowing that whatever I did I would never be a respected human being. As a widow I was less than a cloth for wiping up dirt to people in my society.

Yet when I met Him, I was bending over wailing on a mat in the synagogue. He came and stood in front of me. For a second I thought he was about to rebuke me and tell me to clear out, as did all the other holy men. Yet He stood there, looking at me. No-one who did not live in that age could imagine what that means. This man was looking at a 'demon possessed' woman. Holy men never did this in case the demons left the afflicted person's eyes and entered through their eyes into their souls. The normal holy people kept their eyes averted and spoke with coldness and cruelty, making sure the person spoken to knew that they were lower than the lowest beggar so that they would go somewhere else and die.

But this man looked at me. I turned my eyes towards Him and saw no loathing, no disgust, no boundless contempt. Something shone out of those dark eyes and mesmerised me, so I could not stop staring deep into glowing love which bathed my face like the rising sun after a dark night of despair. I breathed in deeply and felt as if every part of me was being healed with renewed life, as if I were a girl again, dancing in the sunshine.

It was at that moment that the demons are said to have rushed out of me in a howl of joy and amazement. Today people would think I was ululating my gratitude at having been so unconditionally loved by a beautiful man, more handsome than any woman could ever dream of meeting. In those days such a loud expression of delight was seen as the very embodiment of demon possession. No good woman would ever show her feelings so freely in public, so in their eyes I had not just been a demon possessed sinner but a prostitute too. Yet I was truly saved. As one of the lowest of the low I now had a champion - the man whose glorious eyes were able to so fill the sick with love that they threw away their crutches and believing that he loved them were able to have hope again that they could walk. I saw Him perfom many miracles and He always did it the same way. Whether he touched people or spat on soil to make mud to place on the eyes of the blind, He always started the same way - by looking into the eyes of the most wretched people, the ones who were most likely to be trodden on and abused.

I have never seen eyes like His before. They were His life giving instruments from which life itself flowed into the eyes of the crooked, the crippled, the blind and the demon possessed. He loved these people the most. The fact that such a comely young man, so tall, so straight, so beautiful of face and body, should stop at their roadside dirt covered mat and permit them to gaze into His eyes always lifted these suffering wrecks of people and made them want to stand up and be close to Him so that they could stare closer into His eyes. That is how He did it. He raised people up because they wanted to stand up and look at Him, especially the blind. They became desperate to break through their disease so that they could take a closer look at His eyes. Even while blind they seemed to sense the inexorable sweetness of his gaze.

It has been said that I was His lover and even His wife. How vile those people are. They are lying not only about me but about Him. I knew that a man with such eyes could never belong to me alone. What mockery would that have been that I who was saved by Him should prevent others from being equally saved because He became my exclusive husband. Vile... He was for everyone. He came for us all. From the moment I was saved and after I washed His feet with my tears in order to thank Him for what He had done, it became my mission to serve Him and help Him spread His word far and wide. I was His helper, his  major domo, the one who organised all the details of the various trips He made, ensuring always that there was food, drink and somewhere to rest in all the places He went. That is why He called me His Tower. That was His name for me: His Tower.

I followed Him to the cross with His mother Mary and comforted her when Her heart was broken. I knew that He had to die. He had made that clear to me. Yet when He did die I yearned to be near Him and rushed to the tomb where I found the angels who told me He had risen. It was to me that He first manifested when He rose again and told me not to touch Him. I was afire with the good news yet when I told his disciples Peter doubted me. He could not believe that Christ would appear first to a mere woman. I was the apostle to the Apostles and they did not heed me at first!

Peter had not been paying enough attention when Christ kissed me and showed me tender love. He had railed against Christ's regard for me and after our Lord's Resurrection Peter was at war with me. He could not accept that I and all the other women who had served Jesus should share in the making of our Lord's Church. I tried my best but when Constantine took over the Church my influence was almost ended. It was when Pope Gregory (590-604 AD) called me a prostitute that my position was set. From then on I became the prostitute saved by Christ and nothing much more, because the Church Fathers could not countenance the truth that I and the other faithful  women had been instrumental in setting up the Church founded by Jesus. Easier to see me as a saved woman than as Jesus's companion and the general in His campaign of salvation.

Yet I was Christ's right hand helper. My wealth and my organisational skills made His ministry possible but Peter and the Church Fathers demoted me and also all women. Once again the type of situation from which Christ Himself had saved me descended again on all my sisters, who under Christ's Church became as oppressed as they had been in my day. What an abomination. As long as men rule so unjustly over women I will bear the taint of being called a prostitute with pride. I will stand for all my fellow women who suffer under male injustice until one day Christ Himself overturns the rules created by men and He raises us all on the Last Day to live in justice and peace in His Kingdom.   [link]

I found myself sleeping but instead of being in my bed I was resting on a grassy knoll at the edge of a forest. In ancient times the edge of forests was where people left food and offerings for their beloved departed souls, who would come out of Hades for a brief moment in an attempt to return to their past life to visit the people they had left behind.

As I wondered if someone would visit me I saw two bright blue eyes looking straight at me. "Master!" I shouted in joyous recognition, for those intense eyes staring straight at me unflinchingly could only be the eyes of Carl Jung. I had never met him in real life. He died in 1961. But I had spent many years reading and imbibing his books. There are only a few I have not read and for many years he influenced me deeply.

"So you recognise me!" He laughed, half shutting his eyes while his mouth twisted into a wry smile.

"How could I not recognise you!" I exclaimed laughing back. It felt so good to laugh. It was the most natural reaction in the world. What else would a person do except laugh when meeting Carl Jung unexpectedly on the edge of the forests of Lethe, half between sleep and wakefulness?

"Shall I join you?" he asked, "Or would you like to come into the woods with me?"

I did not hesitate but jumped up and tried to walk through the small ledge between two trees. I felt the resistance of a barrier, something I could not see but which held me out, like a force field. "Come." he said, extending his hand to me. I took it gladly and felt pulled through a momentary bubble which did not break but parted to let me  through with a loud 'plop'. I saw fields upon fields of asphodels around me but quickly they vanished and I was not certain what I was looking at because the landscape was too strongly lit and I had to close my eyes.

"Are you willing to pay the price?" he asked.

"What will it be?"

"Madness, headaches, pain, possibly death."

"I am already mad," I laughed. "It is too late. I am through, now."

"What makes you say you are mad?" he asked.

I shrugged. "Isn't it obvious? Only a mad person would pry where angels fear to tread."

"It takes curiosity rather than madness," he mused. "Most are curious about what happens next but only those who are obssessed to the point of losing interest in life in order to follow their morbid passion become mad."

"Otherwise it is healthy to wonder?"

"Didn't Adler show it is unavoidable and everything depends on whether a person submits with grace to the inevitable or tries to conquer instead of accepting the end?" We were flowing  through a landscape which seemed the opposite to the one I had just left. There the soil had been dark brown, the trees green, the sky blue. Here colours shifted, according to how I blinked my eyes. Everything was every colour. It was too confusing. "Woah..." I moaned, feeling as if I was sinking into a whirlpool of sensations. He grabbed my arm and pulled me upward. "You have to concentrate on one thing at a time," he told me, or you become involved in everything and lose your being. Hold on to me and concentrate only on what you wish to say without paying attention to the myriad thoughts and experiences which whirl around us."

At that moment I was aware of vague floating mis-shapen forms swirling around us, calling out mockeries and obscenities. "Look at her! Ha! Ha! The goat, the she devil who thinks she can enter our realm before her time!" The things they were saying melted into incoherence and became grunts, cries, shouted monologues without any meaning.

"Concentrate!" I heard Jung's voice ringing out of the cacophany with the timbre of a bell.

I forced myself to follow the direction from which his voice was coming and looked back with determination into his blue, blue eyes. Suddenly a bolt of doubt jack knifed through me. What was I playing at, leaving the realm of the living so casually? What if he was a wraith and not Jung at all, luring me to my damnation?

"Concentrate!" his voice rang out even louder. "Pay no attention to the siren voices or you will be lured into their state - half formed and ever wanting."

I looked at him again and he smiled. "Here you need strength to keep your wits about you," his voice reverberated around us. "It can be done with practice and perserverance. Is there anything you wish to ask me?"

There were so many things I wanted to speak to him about. How did he feel about his ideas? Had his notion of the shadow and archetypes been correct as far as he could see? Had he veered into gnosticism and how did he feel about that? Was he angry that he was widely thought of as a Nazi collaborator? Had he regretted having a wife and a mistress? Did he believe in reincarnation? Did he think the fruitful opening between the Western and Eastern doctrines produce a new unity or had they been squandered by self indulgent hippies who had dabbled with Eastern religions like Buddhism only to manipulate them to their own self centred requirements?

He laughed out loud, as if he had heard all my thoughts. "Let me tell you something," he said. "When we are on earth we try our best to understand things with a limited perception. We are flawed because our feelings delude us and our pain gives us wishful fantasies that things are not as they really are." I looked at him in amazement that he should have read my mind. "Why are you so surprised? Do you not think your thoughts are visible on your face? Do you think these are not the thoughts I too have pondered?"

"What is your answer to my questions then?"

"Looking back I realise I was correct and not correct. My ideas were the best I could do at the time. I wished to peel away the layers of consciousness which make up a human soul, until the inner, unconscious core, stands out in its irrational complexity and glory. I was motivated by seeing my mother speak to ghosts at night and realising that she had two personalities: one rational and one hateful. When I was four years old I realised I too had personality number one and personality number two and I was mad like my mother, so I needed to cure myself fast in order to grow up and study at the gymnasium and at the university and so become a man of account. I wanted to understand why some are introverted and some extraverted. I wanted to undertsand why so many respected leaders of their communities are tyrannical in their homes. I wanted to know why mankind has this hugely oppressive history of dark inhumanity and barbarism hanging over us like a shadow, threatening to extinguish whatever we achieved as civilisation.

"My work was a first step. People say I made many of my patients madder than they were. I refute this. They had a purpose to their lives when they visited me in the morning to have an appointment to talk about their inner problems. In the afternoon they visited Antonia, my beloved soulmate, for their session with a soothing mother, who would talk to the patients about their social and relationship problems. It worked well for the patients. I was the father figure who spoke about religion and internal problems. Antonia spoke to them about social and personal problems. "As for the triangle between my beloved Emma and Antonia..." he shrugged. "What can I say? Both women suffered but what was I to do? I loved them both. Both were good psychoanalysts and worked hard at what they did."

"Dare I ask if that triangle has been resolved?"

"Ho! Ho!" he laughed. "You are a daring one to poke into people's pasts but since you ask, all I can say is that as each of us died the pain ebbed away and became a distant memory."

I looked at him, silently, wondering if I dared go on. "As for the accusations of being a Nazi collaborator, people do not understand that when evil takes over a country, everyone is tainted. Everyone is responsible for the spilt blood. All that blood split since the dinosaurs ruled the earth, who will pay for it? Who can pay for the effects of slavery and all the horrors of every war and the oppression of whole continents of people as in Africa? People are alive today who benefitted from the British Empire. Do they wear sack cloth and ashes?"

His eyes grew darker, even black with what appeared to be anger. "The accusation that I was a Nazi fellow traveller stem from evidence such as a magazine article I wrote 1918. I drew distinctions between Jewish and German psyches to illustrate the variety of heritable elements of the collective unconscious. When Aryans reread the article in the 1930s, they distorted it out of all proportion. Further, they glossed over another observation, that the German psyche had "barbarian" tendencies, which I showed in my reflection on the 1914-18 war. They also missed my main point that the unconscious should be taken very seriously. It can drive the death of millions.

"I was also accused of complying with the Nazi authorities, in particular with Matthias Göring, the man who became the leader of organised psychotherapy in Germany, not least because he was the cousin of Hermann Göring. In fact, Matthias put my name to pro-Nazi statements without my knowledge. I was furious, not least because I was actually fighting to keep German psychotherapy open to Jewish individuals. And that was not all. I was even involved in two plots to oust Hitler, essentially by having a leading physician declare the Führer mad. Both came to nothing. On top of all that I operated as a spy for the OSS (the predecessor to the CIA). I was called "Agent 488" and my handler, Allen W. Dulles, later remarked: 'Nobody will probably ever know how much Prof Jung contributed to the allied cause during the war'. A grave injustice has been done to my name. I was not and never could be a Nazi collaborator. Nazism was and is an abomination."

I looked into his deep blue black eyes and shook my head. " I am deeply sorry I ever listened to those lies."

"It was a high price I paid. Many people are not always aware of the cost of being an honest man on this earth."

He looked old and tired and seemed to fade a little from view, as if he was melting away, except for his eyes.

"Has anyone paid the blood price of being on this earth?" I asked.

"The price was the Crucifixion and yes the price has been paid."

At that moment everything changed. I suddenly found myself on the floor. It was darkest night. I had fallen out of bed. But I still thought I saw that pair of deepest blue eyes boring into my own eyes. He was still smiling.

"Bye Professor Jung," I muttered. A feeling of warmth passed through me as if I had been hugged. Picking myself up I climbed into bed and fell asleep to dream of shifting landscapes that merged and drifted into each other.
[link] See also Margaret Atwood, 'The Penelopiad', chapter V, "Asphodels, where the idea that heaven is a place where fields of asphodels bloom eternally and boringly. Atwood refer to 'The Odyssey' Books 22 and 24 where first occurs the notion that the living take food to the dells between trees so tat their beloved dead can come and find refreshment.

aegiandyad - 05 Mar 2011 13:20:09 (#7 of 2695)

Last night Kazuki Yamada was conducting the BBC Symphony Orchestra at the Barbican. They played Takemitsu's Requiem for String Orchestra. The shortness of the piece always catches me by surprise! It is so luminous that it takes your breath away with its late post romantic sound.

The arching, wide intervaled, upward yearning string lines and many markings of expressivo gave this piece a haunting quality. It was composed in 1957 and made Takamitsu's name. Stravinsky heard and admired it.

The second piece was the UK premiere of Thomas Larcher's Violin Concerto. In a talk before the concert the composer said this piece was intended to be two journeys, both movements starting off very slowly and gently and then pushing the boundaries of creating as much wild noise as possible. He wanted not just to push the orchestra as far as it can be but also to see what can be brought out of each instrument, such as seeing how far out the bow can be stretched from the violin and still make a sound. He wrote it in the Austrian Tyrol, which is his home, and so he included cow bells as a symbol of his home.

It was thrilling. The build up of tension and noise was exciting and the final resolution I found rather disappointing but still an amazing set of sounds juxtaposed and extended to their limit. The composer himself attracted attention by wearing very tight trousers and being so agile that he leapt on to the stage at the end like an athlete!

The piece de resistance was Rachmaninov's Symphony No 2 in E minor. The orchestra was extremely tight knit and Kazuki Yamada pushed them to the limit, possibly playing it slightly faster than I have heard before. You could hear echoes of Tsaichovsky in the use of the Orthodox chants, which occur as tight circles of leitmotif, which grow and expand slowly. Because in the Orthodox Church it is considered arrogant to grow outside the structure of the chant, the music takes on a block like quality, which gives that Symphony its power. The tight structure of spans giving the leitmotif are expanded slowly by allowing romantic harmonies the extend the music into lilting arches on top of the beat provided by the original chants. Bells add to this effect, making the listener feel that we all have to remember that we have a limited time span.

Rachmaninoff was a very humble man, convinced that his music was not good. For this reason he often abridged the text, especially after he left Russia and lived in Philadelphia, when Eugene Ormandy conducted the Philadelphia Orchestra to play this piece for the firat time.

He also uses the Catholic chant of Dies Irae to add that reminder of all our ending. The passage of descending minor scales create a cacophony inspired by Tsaichovsky, who helped Rachmanininoff in his teens. Finally minimalist music takes us to the crashing finale which so takes the breath away.

Rachmaninov wrote this piece while with his family in Russia, just as the Bolsheviks were beginning to take over and he was terrified of what would happen to his family and country. I was reminded of the film Dr Zhivago throughout this piece because he caught the mood of the times perfectly.

Kazuki Yamada, along with Simeon Petchichov (excuse spelling) is one of the current gods of conducting and he was spell-binding. The way he shaped and drew the music out of the orchestra will remain one of the truly memorable experiences of my life. This is mrs aegian writing.

[link]    [link]

Forgiveness Sunday                                    [A message from a priest of the Greek Orthodox Church on this imortant day]

In the Western Tradition of the Greek Orthodox Church, Great Lent begins on a Wednesday, Ash Wednesday.  In the East, Great Lent begins on a Monday.  The Sunday immediately before Great Lent begins is called Forgiveness Sunday.  The Synaxarion for the day - that is, the reading from Matins that explains the liturgical meaning of each day - explains the meaning of this day as follows:

It is the Sunday of Forgiveness, known also as Cheese Fare Sunday. Today's lesson from the Holy Gospel [Matt. 6:14-21] teaches us about forgiveness and fasting, and how both are crucial to our own return to Paradise. The divine Fathers also set on this day the anniversary of the exile of Adam and Eve from the Paradise of bliss, at the entrance of Great Lent, to show us by deed as well as word how great is the benefit that accrues to man from fasting and repenting; and, on the contrary, how great the harm that comes from destructive gluttony and from disobedience to the divine commandments. The sin of gluttony resulted in Adam and Eve's banishment from Paradise, because they disobeyed God by eating from the tree which He had forbidden them. The Church reminds us of this event to encourage us to return to that ancient glory and primeval happiness by means of fasting and obedience to God and His commandments.
 
On Cheese Fare Sunday, at Vespers, the Orthodox Church has a tradition of actually and personally asking for and offering forgiveness to everyone.  At the end of Vespers, each person present bows before each other person and both asks for forgiveness and gives forgiveness, and assures the other that God forgives: "God forgives and I forgive."  

Keeping in mind the gluttony that cast Adam and Eve from the Garden, each Christian enters the season of the Fast with humility, knowing that the serpent still whispers and that what is forbidden still seems "good for food...pleasant to the eyes, and...desirable to make one wise."  We humble ourselves in fasting.  We fast not because we think we can do what our fore-parents could not do.  Rather, we fast as those who have already eaten too much, recognizing our sin and asking God for mercy.  We fast as the Prodigal Son, who left the pig food looking for the food of his Father's house.  We fast as the Publican prayed, unworthy to lift our eyes to heaven, but beating our breast and saying, "Have mercy on me O God."

Today we forgive those who have sinned against us because we know we cannot carry the heavy load of unforgiveness on this journey.  We forgive because we want our Heavenly Father to forgive us.  We forgive because we are frail and easily mislead.  We forgive because that is what Christians do; and we pray, at least for the next forty days, we may begin to live as Christians.

My Brothers and Sisters who may read this, please forgive me, the worst priest.   Fr. Michael   [link]

The following is a deeply moving piece of music by Cappella Romana - "Cherubic Hymn (in English Mode Plagal IV)" (Tikey Zes)   [link]

aegiandyad - 22 Feb 2012 17:48:05 (#227 of 377)

Hilde of Whitby (c.614-680) was a pagan at age 13 and became a nun at 33 because her sister, who was queen, trained in a great Paris monastery. Hilde wanted to follow but Aiden called her back to England. Northumbrian Christianity was influenced by Iona and Lindisfarne. Aiden, its most successful bishop, came out of Iona, since the Celtic Church as such did not exist. Hild was sent to Hartlepool where she put the first community of women in order.

It appears to have been a double house, where both sexes lived together but did not necessarily pray together. This concept of the double house was shared by Anglo-Saxons and the Frankish Kingdoms. Archaeological investigations show a large cemetery filled with men women and children. The monastery filled the headland. Extensive sites have been excavated, finding stone foundations and half timbered buildings, the centre of which were the Church and the liturgical buildings.There seem to have been peripheral buildings where people came to work. There was a super abundance of wealth at the expense of other Anglo Saxon settlements.

Jewerly was imported in exchange perhaps for leather, cloth, wool and possibly slaves. The large monasteries were the towns of their time. Some people retired there. 2 and 3 year olds were sent there to be brought up. Five bishops and many abbesses came out of Northumbria. Theodore, Archbishop of Canterbury, was Greek by origin and was disconcerted that men and women lived together. He said that even though the practice was not known by Greeks, he wouldn't ban it. Bede says 600 brothers led a semi monastic life but were tied to the monastery in semi economic ways, so there were many servants of god labouring, as in Cistercian monasteries. They were not monks as such but peripheral members. Whitby minted its own coinage.

Many of these monasteries were run by princesses who were part of the royal family. They held huge lands on which they were given tax relief because it was religious land. Princess-abbesses were powerful. It was said that some princesses were treating their places as courts rather than abbeys. Relations could leave land to heirs. One great abbess had ships moored in London while being supported by lay people.

Hilde lost her power because she no longer had peripheral people to help her. Bede stresses that Hilde set up Whitby as a place of learning. Texts from the period are in short supply but one text - an 8th century life of Gregory the Great – did survive. It might have been women who worked in the Scriptorium because women certainly ran many of the abbeys of the time. Hild laid the foundation for the books that were produced in her successors' time. The first English poems came from there.

[link]  [link]

William Borucki of Nasa's Ames Research Centre in Moffet Field, California, the principal investigator on the Kepler Mission to find habitable planets beyond our Solar System has discovered an absolutely enormous range of planet types – some shining like diamonds, others black. The Kepler space telescope, launched four years ago, searches the sky for the faintest starlight gleaming on to a star as a distant planet passes across it. Kepler has so far identified 2,740 possible exoplanets, with 114 confirmed planet discoveries so far. Up to 90 per cent of the possible candidate planets are likely to be confirmed. The 350 exoplanets, roughly the size of Earth, have not been found in the "habitable zone", otherwise known as the Goldilocks distance from a star, where it is not too hot, nor too cold to support liquid water and life.

"We are beginning to find planetary systems with more than one planet orbiting a star, and so far they are all rather different to our own Solar System," Dr Borucki said. "There are about 40 to 50 planetary candidates in the habitable zone but there are no Earth-sized planets there," Dr Borucki claimed. Analysis of the planetary orbits, motions and spectra of light absorbed by a planet's atmosphere reveal that planets can be as dense as iron, with oceans of molten metal. This  planet is just a little bigger than Earth but with the density of iron. It is orbiting very close to its star, with an orbiting time of less than one day. It is so hot it must be molten, so it must have oceans of lava or possibly molten iron. Others appear feather-light heavenly bodies composed of gaseous or rarefied material. One planet has the density of Styrofoam. It would float in the ocean with most of it sticking out of the water. Kepler has even found a planet with half that density, so the range of densities is just beyond belief.

Some planets have turned out to be nearly as small as the Moon, while others are several times the size of Jupiter – the biggest planet in the Solar System – which has defied conventional logic of how planets form. It was believed that planets could not be larger than Jupiter because if you add mass to a planet we thought it would just get denser, not bigger," Dr Borucki told a conference at the Royal Society in London. "We are finding planets that are two or three times the size of Jupiter, and Jupiter is the size of a small star so we are finding planets as big as stars….We have found that planets can get bigger by some process and we don't understand that process". Some planets are orbiting their stars together, which suggests that they might have similar densities. Yet scientists have found two closely-orbiting planets with very different densities – one is made of rock while the other is composed of gas. "What that tells you is that our concept of how planetary systems, based on how our own Solar System is put together, is probably not applicable for many of these other solar systems," claimed Dr Borucki.

Even the orbits of the exoplanets have proven to be unconventional. Before Kepler, most planetary scientists thought that rocky planets like Earth would orbit close to their star, while gaseous planets such as Jupiter would orbit further out – but large gas planets have been found in very close orbits to their stars. "We have found everything different from what people had predicted, other than one of the predictions which was that during the formation of a star a planet could form. That was quite right. There are lots and lots of planets but the orbits are not where we expected them to be. We are seeing or will see thousands of planets, so our expectations are reasonably consistent at this stage of the game. But does this huge number of planets imply life? We can't tell that. We haven't found an Earth in the habitable zone. So we don't know whether there are other Earths out there at this point."

Light travels at 186,000 miles per second. The distance travelled by light in one Earth-year is called a light-year. It takes over 8 minutes for light to travel from the Sun to our little blue dot, the Earth. The next nearest star is Proxima Centauri and it is 4.2 light years away. The Space Shuttle could travel at 17,500 miles per hour and yet it would take it over 150,000 years to reach it. Our galaxy, the Milky Way, is about 110,000 light years in diameter and contains about 300 billion stars. There are over 170 billion galaxies in the observable universe. Many are far bigger than our own galaxy, containing many trillions of stars. There are more stars in the universe than there are grains of sand on Earth. We now know that the formation of planetary systems is a normal phenomenon linked to the formation of stars. As of 1st March 2013 we know of 861 planets outside of our own solar system with new planets being discovered each week. [link]

William Borucki's site is well worth visiting. The graphics are mind bending. [link]

"We are now in the eighth year of sanctions. It would be
nonsense to say that sanctions have not hurt us. Of course they have,
but there has been both good and bad in it. Our secondary industries
have developed as a result of sanctions, but our agricultural industry is
in the doldrums. I should say a very large percentage of the farmers
are bust. I am a farmer myself and I should hate to have to live on
the profits I am earning on my farm.
The farming industry which was the largest single employer of
labour in Rhodesia has had an extremely difficult time. Let me remind
you that in seven years of UDI the total increase in African wages has been
one Rhodesian dollar. I do not think I am exaggerating when I argue that
the cost of living has probably gone up between 25 and 30 per cent in those
seven years. I want you to realise the kind of hardship this is inflicting
on the African people. It is no use saying that the agriculturist ought
to pay more. They cannot because we are in the unfortunate position of
selling and buying under the counter which means that you pay more for every-
thing that you buy - and you get less for everything you sell. This is
common sense and common knowledge. Now this is the position that Rhodesia
is in and it is one of the reasons why I say we want a settlement. We
need capital and development.
I am going to give you a few figures which illustrate the problem that
we are facing in Rhodesia. We have an African population of 5 million of
whom more than 50% are under the age of 17. We have a European population
of somewhere round about 270 000 to 280 000. The European birthrate is
running at 18,1 per 1 000 - the live birthrate. The Coloureds and Asians
22,3, and African 67,6 per 1 000. In fact the natural increase in the
African population is 3,6 per cent per annum, one of the highest birth
rates on the continent. It is worth noting that the natural increase
per annum of the African population almost equals the total number of
Europeans in the country. This is the measure of our problem. We
have got to find employment, we need capital, we need development. I
believe the Rhodesian African is generally the type of man who wants from
life what any one else does - an opportunity to work, to feed and clothe
his family. They are not a difficult people - I think recent years have
proved that - and I believe that if we are given a reasonable chance;,
Rhodesians can work out a settlement to this very thorny issue.
It would be nice to say that I am 99% certain that this thing is
going to be settled this coming year. I do not believe that. I know
the British are anxious for a settlement because I have just come back
from the Old Country. I can speak about Rhodesia; my mother went there in an
ox-waggon and my father fought for it in the"96 rebellion; so I have a
right to stand up and speak - never mind my own political record.
[link]

The following extracts come from a talk given by the former Prime Minister of the Federation of Rhodesia and Nyasaland from 1956-1963, Sir Roy Welensky. Mr a's father appeared on a current affairs RTV talk show with him in 1964 or pre UDI between early to mid 1965. The other pundit was a local historian. They were asked in turn which they thought would last longer, the United Nations or the Commonwealth. The historian went first and predictably plumped for the UN. Mr a snr was second. He knew that Sir Roy would probably like to opt for the Commonwealth, personally, but would side with the historian if he was going to be the minority opinion otherwise. Mr a's father gave him the answer he wanted and so Sir Roy also voted for the Commonwealth.

These extracts are from a talk Sir Roy gave to the South African Institute Of International Affairs on 11 December 1972 titled 'Rhodesia: Quo Vadis'.

"Rhodesia's case was unique. I wonder if many people appreciate that Rhodesia was never for an hour under the direct control of the British Government. Rhodesia from the advent of the column in 1890, under Rhodes' direction, soon moved under the control of a Chartered Company, a Royal Company, authorised by Queen Victoria and they set up government. The first government, other than the African governments of previous days that existed in Rhodesia, was a Chartered Company, and from the Chartered Company we went straight to responsible government

"the type of men who eventually followed the column into Rhodesia. These people were a very tough adventurous lot... the type of people that started Rhodesia - people who were firm believers in the concept of the British Empire. Many of them believed that they were empire builders and that what they were doing was spreading Rhodes' concept of painting Africa red from one end to the other, from Cape to Cairo. It was not very long before this type of Rhodesian began to clash with Rhodes' company, the Chartered Company who were running Rhodesia. There was a running war between them for quite a while. It is true that eventually the Chartered Company introduced a legislative council, and the Settlers began to be represented in the councils of government, but this did not satisfy the people. Remembering for a moment the type of people we are dealing with it is not surprising that they were not satisfied. These men and women were the type that had ruled themselves.And it was not very long before it became obvious that there was going to be a serious clash between the Settler community and the Chartered Company. Fortunately there was a considerable amount of common sense on both sides.

"This period coincided with certain events in South Africa - and about 1922/23; when this issue was coming to a head, Rhodesia was considered as a possible partner in the then dominion of South Africa. In fact I think it was in 1922 or • early 1923 that Rhodesians, as a result of the talks between General Smuts, Sir Charles Coughlan and Winston Churchill, gave us, the Rhodesian electorate, the opportunity of choosing whether we would link up with the then Dominion of South Africa, or whether we would go it alone under a form of Responsible Government. When one hears the sanctimonious nonsense that one has to listen to these days, it makes my blood boil to remember that it was only 15 000 Europeans - those were the people who were oh the voters' role -who took the decision as to whether Rhodesia should "go it alone" or link up with South Africa. There were only 1 500 more in favour than there were against. My former Federal leader-, Lord Malvern, (Sir Godfrey Huggins,who was later to be Prime Minister of Southern Rhodesia for many years) was in fact all in favour of Union.I regret to say that I did not have a vote as I was only fifteen or sixteen at the time, but my family were all for Rhodesia "going it alone" and we did whatever we could in the circumstances. One need not argue the rights or the wrongs of it.However, I want to remind you that it was 15 000 voters that took the decision to decide whether Rhodesia would "go it alone" or whether itwould link up with South Africa. This is to be borne in mind when thinking about our problems and our history."

"from the moment Winston Churchill gave white Rhodesians this choice of Union or of going it alone - and that is what he actually did in 1923, ( I doubt whether there were a dozen Africans on the voter's role) - the real surrender of power in Central Africa took place. In 1923 the British Government really surrendered power to the settlers in Rhodesia. It is true that the British Government tried to maintain some apron strings by means of special clauses in the Constitution - Africans could not be sold liquor, Africans could not possess firearms etc. There was a degree of discrimination, but the discrimination was mainly in favour of the African.

"There was also a law; or at least it was a constitutional fact, that no discriminatory legislation should be passed without the consent of the British Government. I once tackled my old friend, Lord Malvern, on this asking whether in the 22 years he was Prime Minister of Rhodesia, there was ever a threat by the British Government to use the powers that appeared to exist in the Constitution. The answer was in the negative. It is true they used to discuss any changes that he was planning to make. Do not forget that the much criticised Land Apportionment Act that one hears so much about in Rhodesia today was in fact introduced in Malvern's time and it was introduced with the consent and acquiescence of the British Government.

General Smuts once told me "Do you know that Winston Churchill said to me : Smuts, if the Rhodesians vote to go in with South Africa, I will give you more than Rhodesia, 'I'll throw Northern Rhodesia in as a gift"."'That was his attitude to Northern Rhodesia."

A series of conferences set out the constitution of the Federation. The people of Northern Rhodesia and Nyasaland were hardly represented. "- as far as Southern Rhodesia was concerned the issue had to go to a referendum of the electorate in spite of the Government's agreement. I point this out because it supports my contention that whilst the Government had agreed that federation was in Rhodesia's best interests the electorate had to put the date stamp on it. In fact the referendum was held in 1953 and the electorate of Rhodesia voted in favour of a federation. Then we come to the 1961 Constitution where the issue was purely a Southern Rhodesian one - the question of a new constitution. Mr. Duncan Sandys negotiated on hehalf of the British, Sir Edgar Whitehead negotiated on behalf of Rhodesia. They hammered out a constitution and the Governments reached agreement. That was not the last word. Although the British Government accepted it; as far as Southern Rhodesia was concerned it had to go to the electorate for approval."

[link]

Mr aegian was researching for an M.Phil in ecology for about a year in 1970-1. It was about environmental pollution by organochlorine pesticides, principally DDT and Dieldrin. He did actually manage to prepare samples from the fat of five Lake MacIlwain fish, one of them a tiger fish, the sports fisherman's favourite. He found that the tiger fish had 50 ppm of DDT metabolite in its fat. Even one of the vegetarian fish had 30ppm which was unexpectedly high as fish that eat fish that eat contaminated lake plants concentrate the pollutant already concentrated once in the fat of their prey and once by the plants themselves.

Testing the water might have revealed little or nothing, but from what he had read in the journals these levels in water dwelling organisms indicated that the area was receiving DDT in run off water from agricultural land or all sprayed areas, equivalent to being sprayed with half a pound of pesticide per acre per year. This seemed rather a lot for a substance that can persist in the environment for up to twenty years.

Mr aegian's seminar was packed with scientists and even Government officers. Some time after this seminar the use of DDT was stopped in Rhodesia. The evidence had been building up from elsewhere, so Mr aegian was able to research it.

Even today, the people who produce this poison are selling it to people in Zimbabwe, Uganda, Kenya and elsewhere in Africa on the grounds that nothing controls the malaria mosquito quite as well or for nearly as long as a good spraying of DDT inside people's dwellings. You would have thought conscientious used of a mosquito net would be more cost effective and much less environmentally destructive. Even burning pyrethrum incense sticks makes more sense.

This paper highlights the problems of mosquito control by DDT:  [link]

I don't think Mr a wants to take any credit for the eventual abandonment of this practice but the fact is that his work was held off for months while the government analysts' gas chromotograph was installed and calibrated. I think his were amongst the first samples to go through it. He had never read 'Silent Spring', but may have read some of the same scientific papers that Rachel Carson did. It was already becoming obvious to the scientific community that we couldn't carry on behaving like this, not on an agricultural scale.

Organophosphorus pesticides which break down within a year soon replaced DDT in such industrial applications. Unfortunately it is an even worse nerve toxin, in fact the patent on Vx nerve gas calls it 'an improvement to an organophosphorus insecticide'. One hapless individual died shortly after dipping his hand into a tank of it just long enough to retrieve a spray nozzle!  Isn't it amazing what used to be sprayed around? No wonder the birds and bees are dying. The wonder is that not many more of us are/were poisoned.

The whites felt they had earned a place in Africa because of all the advantages they had brought, such as education, medicine, clean water, roads, bridges, airports and all the other infrastructure of modern towns. They established mining, farms, churches, businesses of all kinds. They had brought culture of a high degree such as theatre groups, ballet groups, orchestras, radio and television which were of world class.

The ettlers thought that they had saved the Mashona majority from being raided and killed by the Ndebele. They thought that the very fact that malaria [link] had been killing off cattle and people over the centuries and they had started to control it meant they should be welcome. The whites had started to make headway with many diseases like tick fever, Dengue fever,[link] bilharzia and sleeping sickness. Bilharzia was said to affect every single African person who went near the water, which was always infected by bilharzia, except for the coldest water which was not infected.  [link]

There was tick fever [link] and rinderpest [link]  Rinderpest frequently wiped out the black people's cattle. Near the Congo River there was a parasite which lives in the human and animal eye and causes a terrible form of blindness.   Sleeping sickness carried by tsetse fly affected the northern part of Rhodesia.

Given that Africans lived in grass huts near water that was polluted and poisoned by various diseases and that tribal wars made their lives uncertain, short and brutal, the whites felt they had contributed and should be allowed to stay. Unfortunately the African Nationalists did not wish to share the country and wanted whites out. Thus the War of Independence was brutal. Sadly, today we see that some of the cures for these diseases were themselves found wanting.

John Maynard Keynes complained in 1924 that it was remarkable that a place in the middle of Africa with a few thousand white inhabitants and less than a million blacks could place an unguaranteed loan on terms similar to those of Britain's war loans. It was Keynes' view that foreign investment in colonies was a misallocation of resources and would be better used at home encouraging new job creation.

It was keynes' 1933 call for 'National Self-Sufficiency' which repudiated free trade, capital exports and imperialism. In a paragraph famous to this day he wrote: "Let goods be homespun whenever it is reasonably and conveniently possible; and above all, let finance be primarily national."

With this speech began to long process whereby Britain sought to divest herself of her colonies. The hatred of colonisation and the paralyzing effect of guilt on the British psyche started here too. It is suggested that this process was counter to Britain's self interest and led to stagnation between 1945-1980. Rather than helping Britain this new attitude placed Britain in an economic dark age from which it has not yet recovered, while overseas countries have taken the lead which Britain dropped.
[link]

"For almost two weeks in April 1948 colonial Zimbabwe's two major cities, as well as smaller towns, mines and farms were convulsed by mass unrest. Although the causes of the General Strike have long been recognised as having their origins in the urban squalor and rampant inflation of the immediate post-war era, there is little agreement about either its organisation or its significance. Recent interventions in the debate have tended to strengthen existing prejudices. This paper advances four linked propositions which radically reformulate previous positions: that, while the development of secondary industry and the related growth of colonial Zimbabwe's urban areas were both relatively large by the modest standards of Sub-Saharan African, the scale was small in absolute terms; that these processes and their social consequences differed considerably between Bulawayo and Salisbury; that that the limited scale of these processes often meant that parochial concerns were more important than national issues; and that while all of this facilitated a greater degree of control over events in Bulawayo, if not in Salisbury, by an elite leadership than some writers have conceded, these events did not amount to a colony-wide General Strike."     [link]

Before 1945 up to 45% of serving black policemen came from the Federation countries of Northern Rhodesia and Nyasaland. The paper posted below is a fascinating account of who made up the BSAP as it evolved in a police force under modern Rhodesia. Many men served over many years and retired in comfort after being decorated. One man won the Silver Baton for solving so many cases. Another bought a 400 acre farm and a third earned enough to start a milling business which thrived in Rhodesia.

Others volunteered for service overseas in both world wars and spoke proudly of their campaigns in Burma against the Japanese. Several described the Japanese as cowardly and relying on tricks. When the Japs were caught they would squawk or bleat like goats. The pride of achievement serving soldiers and policemen showed that they took part within the white country with determination and worked hard. One man was proud of his loud voice and how many thousands upon thousands of recruits he had trained. Another was proud of his status on the parade ground and the terrifying figure he cut to recruit and enemy alike.

To make out that the Empire was solely bad is to cast the Africans purely as vulnerable victims who could not help themselves or build up anything for themselves. This paper makes it clear how patronising that is towards these men of stature. Reading this made me think that to see them as people who were treated as inferiors, would be akin to meeting Morgan Freeman and daring to look down on him. So many Africans have such stature and dignity that it is impossible to believe that they were broken by the white regime.

All of the white officers spoke native languages and from 1945 onwards there were sufficient black people educated enough by the state education to join the police. Previously it had been black men educated in mission schools in Nyasaland and Northern Rhodesia who could pass the test required for them to be able to read and write sufficiently to be policemen. The Rhodesian state education produced many educated men so they took over the police forces. The African Police Magazine was printed in English and various local languages and the magazine was avidly read and black men contributed articles to it.

There was evidence that the roughness of the black police had led to the rebellions of the 1896 and 1898, so black people were recruited from beyond the borders till the locals were more educated. The policemen came from mines where they were so well regarded that when they resigned to join the police the employers would offer them higher wages in order to keep them at the mines.

When mine workers were forcibly taken from the mines to go to the Second World War the people who ran the mines tried to stop this happening and made an agreement with the army that 58 men were to be allowed to return to the mines after they had fought in Burma.

This is a paper well worth reading for anyone who wishes to understand what it was like being a black policeman in Rhodesia.          
[link]

SquirePraggerstope - 04 Jan 2013 13:34:11 (#123 of 225)

One important point about a country which assumes control of another is that it deprives that country and its people its rightful and natural development, and pride in their own achievements.

You don't seem to grasp that this opinion is itself a typical product of specifically western thought. And the fact is that it was Europe that came rapidly to dominate the globe completely over just the two to three short centuries following the renaissance.

Why, must be a matter for debate. Any objective alien observer of our planet in, say, the year 1000CE would surely have preferred to put their money either on China or the still evolving and expansionist Islamic world. Both could boast cultures that in many ways were markedly more cohesive, sophisticated, urban and technologically/scientifically advanced than Europe's, -and were certainly no less self-assured or potentially (and actually) warlike.

Yet both failed ultimately to capitalise on these advantages. Largely, I think because of a failure to match their material/organisational/technological sophistication with any commensurate achievements in social, legal/moral and economic thought. Politically, they remained near-stagnant arbitrary absolutisms compared to the evolution seen within their European contemporaries.

So the fact that it was ultimately age-of-enlightenment Europe generally, and Britain, with her millennial tradition of legitimate and increasingly limited government in particular that became the world's overlords, is something rather to be applauded than rued -given the likely alternatives.


aegiandyad - 04 Jan 2013 15:48:20 (#130 of 225)

For right or wrong Africa was being carved up from 1881 to 1914 and all major European powers were determined to get a slice of Africa. One way or other Africa was going to get colonised. Yes I agree that the process of Africa turning into various colonies was bloody in many areas but it would have happened, long before any of us could do anything about it.

The structures were all based on a notion of the Africans as backward and unable to help themselves. They had not even developed clean water, as the Europeans had by the 1880s. What colonialism did in Rhodesia was create an almost perfect place to live, which the Shona and Ndebele quickly wanted to be part of.

Africans from every surrounding country rushed in to work in the expanding economy and the Shona and Ndebele resented this. This was their country. They wanted a share of the new country which was being built up. They wanted the medicine and the education. They wanted the work. There were more African policemen than white policemen. Does that not show how proud they were of what was being built up and how they wanted to protect the country? Black policemen firstly collected tax from native people in the bush but as the towns were built up black policemen worked there too. This is striking given that Britain still has very few black policemen.

The other thing I wish to plead for is the fact that the Empire was built up by ordinary British people who went off in boats to far away places where there were terrible diseases such as leprosy and Dengue fever. They went out to exotic places and built up civil services that were the envy of the world. The fact that the politics of the places they went to made the places poisonous was not really the fault of most of the plucky Brits who went there.

George Orwell was sickened by colonialism. His 'Burmese Days' is a must read and he supports your thesis Isolde, but he too knew it was an inevitable part of history.

[link]

I have read hundreds of letters, reports and accounts by settlers in the Rhodesias and they were just ordinary people who loved the country and battled to set up infrastructure against all the many plagues, such as of termites, which ate up every wooden structure built by the Europeans, so they had to build houses on small stilts with the wooden posts placed in tins of paraffin to stop the termites.

Many of the first whites were so isolated and lonely that they made friends with the local neighbours and they were firm relationships. One sweet story I read from the wife of a farmer was that one day she went on her verandah to call her children to come to lunch and her kids came back in single file followed by about twelve local kids. Each kid was carrying, very carefully, a newly hatched chick. The chicks were quickly transferred to a box and taken care of.

I know you will say that anecdotes do not prove colonialism morally right. The thing is, many of us went there for work or were born there and those of us who found ourselves in Rhodesia really loved the place, its people, flora and fauna.

Long before multiculturalism in Britain we Rhodesians had no barriers between the various races and ethnicities. We got on well with everyone. I remember reading books about England and yearning to go there. It sounded such a wonderful place to live.

After I came to England I realised that the true English paradise had been Rhodesia. To imagine it think of the best suburbs of London spread out in a country where the sun shines most of the time and the temperature is warm but not oppressively hot until October, when it becomes sweltering.

Everyone who lived there loved it. The big problem was institutionalised racism. That killed Rhodesia, alongside hysterical fear of communism and the Domino Theory and above all Kissinger. I hate that man. No, I loathe him. He killed off Rhodesia just as political activists were beginning to make progress towards repealing the hated land Apportionment Act.

aegiandyad - 04 Jan 2013 16:04:44 (#131 of 225)

Christopher Htichens called Kissinger 'a vandal, a barbarian, a thug, a pseudo intellectial and a crook. The fact that he is an anti communist is a speculation he likes to encourage but it is all part of his major lie': [link]

I copied the above from the vid so did not get it word perfect but that is what Hitch says.

SquirePraggerstope - 04 Jan 2013 17:05:33 (#132 of 225)

...His 'Burmese Days' is a must read and he supports your thesis Isolde, but he too knew it was an inevitable part of history.

And even better, as is the case with practically all of Orwell's human characters, the book is chock full of gloriously flawed and unpleasant people; empire builder and colonial subject alike!

Pike san pay like! Pike san pay LIKE!!

aegiandyad - 04 Jan 2013 17:36:32 (#133 of 225)

Orwell's description of the death of the elephant is unique in literature. You have made me want to read it again Squire. Thank you. Were you a colonial too?

So the fact that it was ultimately age-of-enlightenment Europe generally, and Britain, with her millennial tradition of legitimate and increasingly limited government in particular that became the world's overlords, is something rather to be applauded than rued -given the likely alternatives.

I put down the Brtish expansion worldwide to several facts. The British were and always had been amazing sailors. They were also good technicians and engineers and their ships were gradually improved over time to become the best in the world just before the turn of the twentieth century when Germany began to compete with them.

The other reasons are that some British used to be fervent Christians and they went everywhere as missionaries and doctors trying to aid and enlighten people living in primitive and difficult conditions. People today can mock them but they were important in opening up the world. The other big factor was that Britain has always had hard working and freedom loving people who have from the beginning of time fought for their rights. The British were for centuries independent thinkers and intrepid people who were not afraid to venture out on their own, whether to found the colony of America or to colonise India and Africa.
[link]

Before the Cecil Rhodes BSAC colonised Rhodesia it was divided roughly in two third Shona people who lived in Mashonaland in the middle and north of Zimbabwe and one third Ndebele, who congregated around Bulawayo. There were about 100,000 black people in all living there at the time. After white rule had been established this grew to four million in the twentieth century because of the medical advances brought by the whites.

Before the whites arrived the Shona were ruled by the Ndebele, who raided the Shona villages once a year to extract tribute. This was a great burden to the majority Shona people because they depended on surviving through subsistence farming. They would grow pumpkins, maize and other vegetables on a patch of land and when that lost its fertility they moved on to another patch.

The whites brought medicine, good drainage, roads, industry and modern farming which quickly turned a fairly limited use of land into the bread basket of Africa, feeding everyone well and cheaply, including the African people.

The Africans both Mr A and I met were proud to be part of the British Empire. This may sound like special pleading but that was our experience. What the Africans in general wanted was to be allowed to share as equals in their own country. People had come from Asia, Europe and also they had flocked in from other parts of Africa to work in the industries, mines and farms and yet the African people had a limited say in their own affairs.

That was the great injustice of Rhodesia - that immigrants to the country denied the African people access to houses within the white built areas, though they lived there as servants in special quarters behind the main family home. These servant quarters were brick built, had electricity, heating, sanitation and small gardens where they could grow their own food but they were much smaller than the larger houses their employers lived in.

If the whites had not gone to Rhodesia, I am not sure what would have happened. The African numbers were dwindling due to a range of terrible diseases such sleeping sickness caused by tsetse fly, rinderpest, tick fever, bilharzia.

The adverts we see by Oxfam of African children eeking out water from puddles to drink, are how life used to be before whites arrived.

Perhaps whites should not have gone to Africa. But what I regret is that racism and Social Darwinism led to Paternalism and so kept the Africans from taking an equal part in their country. Had they been given equal status sooner, Robert Mugabe would probably not have been a dictator and the country would now be a proper democracy and probably one of the most advanced countries in the world, where true equality existed for everyone.

CaroleBristol - 03 Jan 2013 12:29:31 (#101 of 215)

It is interesting to read what the Aegians have written, but it is a white, European story.

The stark fact was that the black population was excluded from the story, except as uncultured and unlettered "children" who needed a firm white hand to guide them.

aegiandyad - 03 Jan 2013 12:43:26 (#102 of 215)

That is Social Darwinism for you.

Perhaps that demonstrates the two most common routes to racism - ignorance and fear.

I'd add a third - pride in British supriority, which is what drove the Empire.

BawbagMcWimoweh - 03 Jan 2013 12:45:36 (#103 of 215)

I like that personal experience can be disregarded because it doesn't fit with what has been read second hand.

aegiandyad - 03 Jan 2013 12:50:59 (#104 of 215)

It is so easy to disrgard the part played by Darwinism and to blame everything on the local people who struggled under that legacy in the real world created by British imperialism.

We Rhodesians had to live under the taint of racism while we knew full well that the Brits in England were and still are far more racist than we ever were. That is what hurts the most. There never was a Daily Mail in Rhodesia but it sure as hell still rules in the UK.

The Rhodesia Herald was a clone of the Daily Telegraph and even used their crossword compiler.

CaroleBristol - 03 Jan 2013 12:52:21 (#105 of 215)

I think that you are right, Aegian. Social Darwinism and the myth of a racial hierarchy blighted Europe's relationship with the rest of the world throughout the colonial period, even before the actual term Social Darwinism had been coined.

The idea that Europeans had a mission to civilise the world was really a smokescreen for the unsightly colonial race to grab territory and control resources in Africa and elsewhere.

I wasn't being critical of your posts, incidentally, I found them very interesting, although I wouldn't conflate Darwin's work on evolutionary theory with the unsavoury racial aspects of Social Darwinism, a theory that was developed by the likes of Francis Galton, who adopted ideas that predated Darwin anyway, notably those of Malthus.

aegiandyad - 03 Jan 2013 12:56:44 (#106 of 215)

Thanks Carole. We can agree but you perhaps underestimate the mission to civilise. I believe it was a sincere effort to spread the civilities of British culture to the rest of the world. Had it been pure exploitation of resources solely, then the Empire would not have been so quickly disbanded. The Chinese who have taken over the British role are far less conscious of any civilising mission and they are out purely and nakedly to exploit Africa as much as they can.

I actually wish the British had not divested themselves of their African lands so quickly but had built up newer, fairer relationships with the African people. But that is another very complex story.

CaroleBristol - 03 Jan 2013 13:00:17 (#107 of 215)

I believe it was a sincere effort to spread the civilities of British culture to the rest of the world.

I tend to think otherwise. There was certainly a publicly-proclaimed "mission" but I see that as virtually indivisible from the American concept of Manifest Destiny.

Empire was dressed up as something other than the reality, I think, which was a means of extracting as much wealth as possible from the colonies.

Creating a deracinated, western-educated native middle class was a way of dividing and ruling. The French did exactly the same thing in their colonies.

aegiandyad - 03 Jan 2013 15:57:32 (#109 of 215)

Carole you are underestimating the part played by the Bible alongside the gun. It was not as clear cut as you seem to think. Nobody official started a deracinated middle class. It grew up out of education. As more black people became educated so they gained jobs within the system. This piece of history shows the ongoing struggle over many decades.

"Into office as territorial Prime Minister of Southern Rhodesia came Reginald Stephen Garfield Todd, a strapping, handsome ex-missionary. To the shock of his own United Party, he began to speak softly to the Africans. He managed to ram through a bill giving Southern Rhodesian blacks their first tiny voice in the territory's government--a separate ballot under which they could elect five of the 35 members of parliament. It was not much, but to the settlers it seemed a step toward their worst fear: that their servants would some day rule.

A wave of public reaction forced the Party to scuttle Todd, and his place was taken by Sir Edgar Whitehead, a conservative farmer from Umtali. To restore his party's shattered image, Whitehead took up the settlers' ever-present demands for full independence from Britain. Britain's prerequisite was a constitutional conference to which all political groups--black and white--would be invited. The conference was held in 1961, and out of it emerged a new constitution that gave the blacks even greater strength in the legislature--15 seats out of 65--and set out conditions by which they might eventually compete for the 50 white seats as well. The conditions: full voting rights for anyone with a high school diploma or a salary of $739 a year.

Supremacy or Death. That was not what the settlers had wanted at all, and the constitution turned out to be a death blow to the government. Under a barrage of charges that it was soft on Africans, the United Party was swept out of office in elections the following year. A new party, built on a hard core of cattlemen, tobacco men and right-wing labor leaders, was on the rise; its platform was white supremacy or death, and its founder was Ian Smith."

[link]
wantourcountry.htm

The spirit of dissension against racism which was expressed by Garfield Todd and Whitehead continued under Smith and exists to this day in the persons of the white members of Zimbabwe's Movement for Democratic Change – led by MorganTsvangirai.

CaroleBristol - 03 Jan 2013 16:00:27 (#110 of 215)

I think we may be at cross purposes here, Aegian.

I was talking more about a general principle in the whole British 19th century imperial project, not specifically Rhodesia in the 1940s and 50s.

aegiandyad - 03 Jan 2013 17:09:50 (#111 of 215)

But Rhodesia is a prime example. And anyway, I still disagree. Look at the 1851 Great Exhibition, there were artifacts and exhibits from all over the world. The Empire was paramount in helping to mount this exhibition in the first place. The skilled engineering which had enabled British engineers to construct railways, roads and bridges all over the world now enabled them to create a shining crystal palace glittering in the London air.

Nothing like this had ever been seen before. It was not just Prince Albert who was enthused about a new world order based on British know how and decency; everyone felt this in England. The Empire was not only enriching Britain but making it into the world's foremost state where all decent people wished to live in harmony.

The people of the Empire were certainly oppressed and in some places like South Africa during the Boer War and in India and in the Caribbean, the British Empire could be condemned. But people are people. You cannot stop them having hope once they start getting ideas through British education.

The Indians immediately took to British poetry and literature. It opened their eyes to how different the west was to their own culture but they also saw how civilised the British could be if they would only choose to be. If you read 'A Passage To India' by E.M. Forster, you will see how a few Indians were enchanted by British literature and poetry. Although they were treated brutally, the Raj was influenced by what was good about England as shown through its history, art, science and literature.

Africans and Indians from all over Africa and the Caribbean read English novels and started dreaming of coming to make a life in England. That is what happened to me too. Whatever the motives of those who conquered foreign lands one of the results was that the whole world was shown that life could be decent for all, if people pulled together.

When I was educated in Rhodesia we had exactly the same education that everyone had in the UK. To us England of the Beatles and The Avengers and Mary Quant and George Orwell and all the authors who advocated clear thought, dissension from the norm, knowledge of history and analysis of information influenced us. Perhaps this is what the Empire finally passed on to millions of people.

[link]

"Cheap labor was provided by a hut tax, which forced the penniless natives to go to work for the settlers to pay it. But the settlers worked beside them in the fields and gradually adopted a paternal feeling toward them. New settlers poured in, built themselves Victorian towns and sturdy houses, and planted mealies (corn) and tobacco on the veld. When more land was needed, the natives were moved off, until in 1928 the officials decided something had to be done to protect them. The result was the Land Apportionment Act, which set aside roughly half of the countryside as "native reserves"--but also prohibited the blacks from owning or even leasing land in white areas."

[link]  The above Time Magazine article is an excellent summary of the histoy of Rhodesia and the issues of the time, for anyone who wants to understand what happened in 1965 and why it happened.

It was surprising that new immigrants from the UK seemed to feel free to express their racism, which always embarrassed established Rhodesians because they felt tarred by the same brush. Those who were born in Rhodesia had close relationships with servants and friends, so it is hard to remain racist. Racism is initially a disease based on prejudice. Once you live everyday with people it is hard to keep it up, especially since, on the whole, the Shona and Ndebele were peace loving, had brilliant senses of humour and had dignity in all they did.

African films which were achingly funny were made by a Government Ministry, using African actors and children who were naturals on film, making complicated comedies and other films, showing them constructing toy cars out of wire and fixing broken tractors using ingenuity and spare parts from other cars.  As school children we were shown these films once a month.

The Afrikaners in Rhodesia were a varied lot. When I was at school we lived in an area where they predominated. I was always teased because of my thick hair but apart from that loved Afrikaner gatherings because they always involved barbeques, lots of drink, music and plenty of dancing and fun. Their servants joined in the fun, which didn't happen amongst the other communities.

One of our neighbours for a short while was an Arikaaner crocodile hunter. They lived from hand to mouth because getting crocodile pelts to sell abroad for making bags and shoes was so difficult. His wife told me he would not survive without the two African guys with whom he hunted. Many Afrikaaners were political activists in all kinds of areas including conservation. GreenPeace has many South Africans working for it.

Paternalism versus Racism

In Rhodesia there were two general types of racial feelings towards the many ethnicities which lived together. The original British people who first arrived in Rhodesia were divided between the officer class and administrators; and the ordinary workers, soldiers who joined the BSAC, farmers and artisans.

The upper classes had a strongly developed paternalism which came directly from the Victorian idea that those who were privileged also had duties towards those beneath them. Their feeling of paternalism was strongly coloured by Social Darwinism, which saw other races as inferior to the Europeans and especially the British. As far as social Darwininism and Victorian values in general were concerned, the British were the superior people on earth. They justified this view because it was self evident, given that British industry had changed the world and British engineering had opened up huge areas of the world with their railway building and bridge building.

British firms were either directly employed to build railways, roads and bridges in Europe, Asia and Africa or were employed in consultative capacities.

The first British settlers who were administrators and governors of the Rhodesias took it as self evident that all the immigrant groups who arrived in Rhodesia did so because they were escaping from inferior cultures and countries. Therefore it was self evident that all the ethnicites were inferior to the Brits in Rhodesia. It was these people who treated the Africans as children, who needed the protection of the higher British race.

It was not done to shout at or abuse people who had the status of children. Of course, no doubt several administrators and civil servants were abusive towards Africans but this broke the code of paternalism and was strongly frowned on. The only reason to be cuel which was justified was if the Africans were politically troublesome, in which case they could be imprisoned or suppressed.

The fact that after the 2nd World War people arrived in huge numbers from war torn regions strengthened the British notion of their superiority. Newcomers, be they Europeans fleeing from the Nazis or the upheaval in places like Greece where there was a civil war after 1945, were all treated paternally. They were welcomed because the British were superior enough to do so.

The many people who escaped from Nazism, whether Jews or Poles and all the other ethnicites, were grateful to find a new place akin to the USA but founded initially under British Government to which they could escape and build up a new society. There was remarkable co-operation between these groups, whether Asian or European and it was this co-operation which built up the country so quickly,although it has to be emphasised that the economy was very small even in 1980.

The hatred of Nazism tempered racism. People who had escaped Hitler's aftermath shuddered at the thought of being racist and so treated their black workers and servants with respect. It was this feeling which led to the gradually growing wish among progressive whites for the Land Apportionment Act to be repealed.

However, those who lived at the bottom of Rhodesian society, who competed directy with Africans for jobs, tended to be as racist as people can be in the UK. If you were ruling the Afiricans or were of that patrician class, you were paternal towards them. If you competed for your living with Africans you might become racist towards them.

In Rhodesia we did not have ID cards for everyone till the late seventies and they were not enforced as rigorously or as unfairly as in South Africa. The police in Rhodesia were not as racist towards black people who lost their documentation as they had been in SA, especially as the police were predominantly black.

Many people  automatically conflate Rhodesia with South Africa, its much bigger and more powerful neighbour. South Africa not only had a larger land mass but also there were 19 different ethnic languages spoken as well as Afrikaans and English . South Africa was colonised In 1652 when the Dutch arrived in the Cape. They were followed in 1688 by  the French Huguenots and in the 1700s South Africa was gradually developed by the Dutch who were called Afrikaners and Boers. In 1820 The British settlers arrived. Throughout this period to well into the early 1900s immigrants from all over the world arrived with notable pockets of German,Scandinavian and Portuguese.The Afrikaans speaking (mainly Dutch) stock continue to dominate and played an increasingly dominant role as British power was eroded.

South Africa practised apartheid, segregating the white and black people and preventing the latter from living in white towns, even though they worked there. There was also friction between the two main white groups and the Boer War was one of the worst in history. The British invented concentration camps in which to intern the Afrikaner or Boer people. South Africa was much more racist than the younger colony of Rhodesia (established in 1890 under the control of the British South Africa Company founded and run by Cecil Rhodes) ever was. During its history Rhodesian politicians ordered the long term internment of several black politicians. Whites were also interned or 'restricted' [effectively held under house arrest] for political activism.

In SA the situation was brutalised because SA had so many diamond and gold mines and the owners of capital hired security staff to police these to the point of brutality. Rhodesia turned out to be a disappointment to Rhodes. He had pushed up into Mashonaland on the hope that more gold and diamonds would be found there but Rhodesia turned out to have some copper, chrome and a few other minerals but was not the rich mineral resource paradise SA had been. Hence it was less exploited and farming quickly became the dominant way of making a living. Industry too was established and became increasingly important. Black people found jobs in factories, mines and farms and domestic service was another main employer.

It is hard to be racist against the nannies who bring up your children and the servants who help you on a daily basis. There is no evidence of wide spread racism even among first generation immigrants because their children were brought up by warm hearted, good black people, who were part of the family.

It was shocking to see naked racism when I (mrs aegian) came to England in the 1970s of a kind I had never encountered in Rhodesia. It existed in Rhodesia but it was very uncool to show it except among fellow travellers and even then it was muted because the whites depended on the good services of the blacks. The kind of Daily Mail racism so common in the UK to this day was considered bad form in Rhodesia.

In SA the two white groups - the Afrikaners and British were themselves in conflict and the black group - mainly Zulu, had stood up to the political powers since the 19th century. In Rhodesia was predominantly Shona, with a third of the population being Ndebele. They were far more peacable and there was very little trouble. Rhodesia did not even have an army but depended on the BSAC and later the British South Africa Police for protection in times of trouble. During the two world wars many black people joined as reservists and fought on the British side.

This is an interesting paper on the subject by L.H. Gann:

[link]