Don’t expect a retread of the lurid “…Da Vinci Code”

“There Be Dragons” is not intended to be the cinematic equivalent of a “poster” or “user’s manual” for Opus Dei, Joffe said. But viewers also should not expect a retread of the lurid conspiracy theories propagated by “The Da Vinci Code” and its film adaptation.

“I think Dan Brown (the author of “The Da Vinci Code”) misused Opus Dei … in a rather unpardonable way,” Joffe said. “I hope, in some ways, this movie will set the balance straight, but that’s not the objective of the movie. I just think it’s maybe a byproduct.”

Go to http://www.thesoutherncross.org/headline3.asp for more of this interview with Roland Joffe.

“There Be Dragons” – make this go viral…

Roland Joffe’s new film, There Be Dragons, due for worldwide release in the Spring, has moved its promotion machine up a few gears. See the updated website and spread the news if you can. It all offers an intriguing insight into how movies are promoted in advance of release. And, to say the least, the movie looks very promising. http://www.therebedragonsfilm.com  .

Art Serving Peace and Humanity in the Heart of Jenin

Journalists, film-makers and people from the media education establishment in Britain and Ireland were reminded at the 13th Cleraun Media Conference in Dublin in mid-October (19th-21st) that journalists in their work should never “lose sight of the primary importance of people – their value and their dignity”. The advice came from Ms. Kate Shanahan of the Dublin Institute of Technology’s journalism school. Ms. Shanahan is a former producer with Irish television who began her career in print journalism with one of Ireland’s national newspapers.

Ms. Shanahan’s words of advice were exemplified in the work of German film-maker Marcus Vetter whose award-winning documentary, Das Herz von Jenin – The Heart of Jenin – was shown at the conference.  The film was introduced by Marcus Vetter himself and was followed by an in depth discussion on the history of its making and the events it recorded.

The Heart of Jenin is a film set against the background of one of the world’s most protracted and bitter human and political tragedies – the Israeli-Palestinian conflict in the Middle East. The film shows how a group of people embroiled in this conflict were able to rise above it by virtue of the exercise of a single but enormously powerful act of human generosity.

It tells the story of how Ismael Khatib, a Palestinian father of a young boy fatally injured by an Israeli bullet during an incursion of the military into the West Bank town of Jenin, decides to donate the organs of Ahmed, his dying son, to enable several other children to live. Seven young people were the beneficiaries of this act, some Arabs, others Jewish. Of these seven, five have survived and are now living normal lives in their own communities.

The climax of the story comes when two years after his heroic act, Ishmael visits some of the families and the children to whom his son’s organs have given new life. One visit in particular, the most difficult of all, stands out both as an example of the triumph of humanity over hatred and prejudice and as a symbol of the peace and reconciliation which people dream of for the Middle East.

One of the beneficiaries of Ishmael and Ahmed’s donation was the little daughter of David Levinson, an American-born orthodox Jew. In the early part of the film we see David – in news footage from the time – waiting in the hospital as the word has come that a donor has been found whose heart might be suitable for his daughter. David is asked some questions about his view should the donor turn out to be an Arab. This, he expresses quite clearly, would not be what he would want.

The story then moves on two years and we know that David’s little daughter is alive and well and living a normal life. David knows that the person who has given his daughter and family this great gift is a Palestinian Arab, someone whom he has up until that time considered his mortal enemy. He is now about to meet him in his own home and the camera of Marcus Vetter is there to record the meeting.

There is no doubt but that the encounter begins with tension. David is awkward. Ishmael is also awkward. David then expresses his regret at his insensitive remarks of two years earlier. There is an uneasy but real reconciliation. Then David calls in the little girl and she walks over to Ishmael, he holds out his hand and she playfully hits it. Then there is a gentle embrace and with this the whole atmosphere of the meeting seems to change. Further conversation takes place, David eventually gives a parting gift to Ishmael and says what a pity it is that they had not met before. They part, expressing a hope that they will meet again.

The message of the encounter is understated. Nevertheless it is loud and clear for all to see and hear. The whole is a wonderfully moving document in witness to the power and effect of simple human goodness and generosity.

Nor does the story end there. It is still unfolding. In the aftermath of these events, the Ahmed Khatib Centre For Peace was established for the children of Jenin. Ishmael now devotes his time working in this centre with the children of this war-torn and impoverished city. Neither did the film-maker’s story end there. In the relative peace of the region, prior to the outbreak of the two intifadas of the past 20 years, Jenin was a city in love with Cinema. It had a multitude of picture houses scattered through its narrow streets. The violence brought an end to that and when Marcus Vetter went there to film Heart of Jenin there was not one left standing. He and his friends decided that the people of the city should not only have an opportunity to see their account of this inspiring story but see much else besides. They have now founded the Cinema Jenin Project, rebuilding one of the town’s old cinemas and establishing around it a film-school. Young film-makers and students of film in Europe are now involving themselves in the project to help the young inhabitants of Jenin to learn more about the art of film-making –  and in the process, perhaps, let their art also be a means of promoting peace, human dignity and respect for life.

Moving On

We have got to move on from here. The Church in the 16th century took the bull of corruption and abuse by the horns and moved on to the Catholic Reformation. It must do the same now. Another tranche of documents – 10,000 pages of them – are in the headlines in the US this week, detailing more records of abuse. Mind you not all 10,000 pages will be disturbing. Some of them record complaints about the long hair-styles or Elvis-style sideburns of some of the clergy of the time. But some of them are indeed disturbing. This time they come from the files of the diocese of San Diego, California. Good. Read then, beat our breasts sincerely and contritely – but then move to do what we should have been doing when these ugly heinous crimes were being committed. We are not doing a service to anyone, least of all the victims of abuse, by just continuing to beat our breasts. If the corruption within the Church in the early modern age was the occasion of driving good men out of the Church, the corruptions of our own age have had no less drastic consequences. It is time to address these consequences.

Moving on is not the same as forgetting. We must never forget what has happened – we cannot, in fact, ever forget it. It is and always will be part of us. It is part of our fallen condition, the effects of which we have all inherited.

We were reminded of this by Pope Benedict in his address at Oscott College in Birmingham in September. “As we reflect on the human frailty that these tragic events so starkly reveal, we are reminded that, if we are to be effective Christian leaders, we must live lives of the utmost integrity, humility and holiness. He then quoted an Anglican priest to express his hope for the future: ‘O that God would grant the clergy to feel their weakness as sinful men, and the people to sympathize with them and love them and pray for their increase in all good gifts of grace’” Those words were the prayer of the Rev. John Henry Newman, now Blessed John Henry Newman, delivered in a sermon on 22 March 1829.

The Pope made no bones about the impact of the scandal on the moral credibility of Church leaders. “I have spoken on many occasions of the deep wounds that such behaviour causes, in the victims first and foremost, but also in the relationships of trust that should exist between priests and people, between priests and their bishops, and between the Church authorities and the public.”  But he went on to acknowledge the new awareness “of the extent of child abuse in society, its devastating effects, and the need to provide proper victim support should serve as an incentive to share the lessons you have learned with the wider community”. He did not make the obvious point that clerical abuse was but the tip of the iceberg of child abuse. He sees no point in that kind of defence but those looking on should be ready to concede it, if they are at all interested in fairness. What he did propose was much more positive: “Indeed, what better way could there be of making reparation for these sins than by reaching out, in a humble spirit of compassion, towards children who continue to suffer abuse elsewhere? Our duty of care towards the young demands nothing less.” At the heart of the response must be, he said, “Integrity, humility and holiness”.

Looking forward, with the supernatural vision that is the hallmark of his office, he said that his prayer would be that among the graces of his visit to Britain “will be a renewed dedication on the part of Christian leaders to the prophetic vocation they have received, and a new appreciation on the part of the people for the great gift of the ordained ministry. Prayer for vocations will then arise spontaneously, and we may be confident that the Lord will respond by sending labourers to bring in the plentiful harvest.”  

Finally, as if to underline that essential platform of the spiritual and supernatural on which that harvesting work can only be based, he spoke to them of the Eucharist – in the context of the imminent publication of the new translation of the Roman Missal for the English-speaking world. “I encourage you now to seize the opportunity that the new translation offers for in-depth catechesis on the Eucharist and renewed devotion in the manner of its celebration. ‘The more lively the Eucharistic faith of the people of God, the deeper is its sharing in ecclesial life in steadfast commitment to the mission entrusted by Christ to his disciples’ (Sacramentum Caritatis, 6).

Then, in final words of encouragement the Pope seemed to echo back to that age when the failures and corruption of churchmen five centuries ago drove good men into a revolt which still divides Christendom. He spoke about the generosity needed for the implementation of the Apostolic Constitution, Anglicanorum Coetibus, that apostolic instrument by which members of the Anglican Communion might be reunited with their fellow Christians in the Roman Catholic Church. “This should be seen as a prophetic gesture that can contribute positively to the developing relations between Anglicans and Catholics. It helps us to set our sights on the ultimate goal of all ecumenical activity: the restoration of full ecclesial communion in the context of which the mutual exchange of gifts from our respective spiritual patrimonies serves as an enrichment to us all. Let us continue to pray and work unceasingly in order to hasten the joyful day when that goal can be accomplished.” Now that is moving on.

Seeds of Faith and Reason sown by “a gentle scholar, swathed in white”.

It is always the same. Why were we surprised? I suppose it is a bit like the Olympics cycle, the World Cup cycle and all those other high profile recurring events which travel the world every few years. Prior to it all taking place the predictions are dire. This time it really is going to be a disaster – the stadiums are not ready, the security nightmare will scuttle it, the infrastructure of the chosen country will never cope with the crowds. But as always – well, I can’t remember  any predicted disaster which actually materialised – it works out well on the night. If disasters occur – like in Munich in 1972 – they are never predicted.

So what was the dire prediction this time? The Pope’s visit to Britain of course. For months we had been fed stories of impending disasters – poor planning, big security problems which were going to cripple the whole event, embarrassing protests by brigades of the New Atheism movement and the disaffected “faithful”. They were at it up until the very eve of the visit when the words of Cardinal Walter Kasper got lost in translation. He seemingly suggested that to land into Heathrow was to land into a place rendered third world by multiculturalism.

And what actually happened? Did it all go pear-shaped? Emphatically no. It was, in the words of a number of Vatican people, the best trip of the pontificate so far. Certainly, in the shorter term view it could hardly have been better. In the longer term view we can also say, at the very least, it is full of promise. As always with promises – or to be a bit evangelical about it, the sowing of seeds, – time has to pass to see what the effect will be. There is no question but that there was a very widespread sowing going on – tens of millions throughout the Anglophone world  are estimated to have watched and  heard what the Pope said over those days. And the response was palpably positive for all but the die-hard sceptics.

The Guardian, one of the most hostile organs prior to the visit was reduced to a grudging concession in the wake of the event. “The pontiff’s taking of tea with a Queen whose coronation oaths swore her to defend ‘the Protestant reformed religion established by law’ is quite something. The papal praise poured on Sir Thomas More – the martyr who died defending the pope’s power against the crown – in Westminster Hall would once have been likened to the gunpowder plot. The 5 November celebration is a reminder of the historic reach of anti-Catholicism in popular culture, just as the Act of Settlement is testimony to the sectarian origins of Britain’s high politics. Yet the rapprochement required today is not so much between Protestant and Catholic as between the religious and the rest, and Benedict leaves without denting that divide.” They probably hope so, but one feels that there can be something more than a dent in this if the necessary cultivation and harvesting is attended to. There are already reports of many lapsed Catholics coming to parishes and asking for baptism for their children. There are reports of enquiries from people who want to know more about the faith they saw witnessed to by those few hundred thousand attending events during the visit. Archbishop Vincent Nichols’ reflection on the visit gives some insight into this and what needs to be done now.  http://www.thepapalvisit.org.uk/News-and-Media/Latest-News/Papal-Visit-something-beyond-words

The New Atheists of course saw the whole thing as a big opportunity for them to spread their gospel. What happened? Firstly, their fellow-travellers were profoundly embarrassed by their antics and are probably now deserting them in droves. Their so-called rationality revealed itself to be the height of irrationality.  Ross Douthat in the New York Times observed that “All in all, the visit of Pope Benedict XVI to Britain over the weekend must have been a disappointment to his legions of detractors. Their bold promises notwithstanding, Richard Dawkins and Christopher Hitchens didn’t manage to clap the pope in irons and haul him off to jail. The protests against Benedict’s presence proved a sideshow to the visit, rather than the main event. And the threat (happily empty, it turned out) of an assassination plot provided a reminder of what real religious extremism looks like — as opposed to the gentle scholar, swathed in white, urging secular Britons to look with fresh eyes at their island’s ancient faith.” That image, as a counterfoil to the hate-filled rants which spewed from the motley crews on the protest platforms, spoke volumes to all men of good will.

Standing idly by?

 The Commission of the Bishops’ Conferences of the European Community (COMECE) has called on the leaders of the European Union in a new report to wake up to the widespread persecution of Christians in many parts of the world. “Europe cannot remain passive. The European Union must take the co-responsibility for the protection of religious freedom in the world.”

Well, we might wonder, will they? The bellicose and utterly tasteless protest movement against the visit of the Pope to Britain were chanting in the streets of London a few weeks ago: “What do we want? A secular Europe! When do we want it? Now!” There are a lot of people who feel that they have already got it. It really will be a big news story when we hear that Europe’s leaders have taken on the responsibility these bishops are calling for.

Next week COMECE is organising a conference on the persecution of Christians, to be held in Brussels on October 5, It will present a report to the conference detailing situations around the world which reveals that “At least 75% of religious persecution is directed at people of the Christian faith. Each year 170,000 Christians suffer because of their beliefs.”

 “The total number of faithful who are discriminated amounts to already 100 million”, the report estimates. “This makes Christians the most persecuted religious group. Persecution may also include obstacles to the proclamation of Faith, confiscation and destruction of places of worship or prohibition of religious training and education.” While all that is happening Europe is deliberating on moves to prohibit the display of religious symbols in schools. It is anyone’s guess what the outcome of that deliberation might be so what hope is there that Europe will march to the defence of religios freedom elsewhere?

Threatened but Never Vanquished

In some ways it is hard to know what to think about the Irish Times survey, Sex, Sin and Society, the details of which were landed on our breakfast tables last week. The one thing that it is not hard to do is to suspect the choice of week in which to publish it – coinciding with the visit of Pope Benedict to Britain. On the surface it represents nothing less than a slap in the face to the Pope and anyone who might be hoping for a society of the future which might be prepared to re-embrace the values of Judaeo-Christian civilization.

If it is a true reflection of the state of public opinion in Ireland on sexual morality – and there have been good letters to Madam Editor questioning the credentials of the survey – it has revealed in all its stark reality the abysmal desert of moral relativism of which Pope Benedict spoke to us on the eve of his pontificate in 2005 and which he has reminded us of again this week. If this is the new norm of morality then we really have gone a long way down the road to a neo-pagan society.

It is shocking to some of us but clearly not to the majority – if, again, the survey can be taken as an accurate reading of what the majority of Irish people now think sin and sex are all about. The process by which this has happened – is happening – was outlined by Peter Hitchens in his column in the Daily Mail on Monday  (13/08/10) when he reminded us that shock always fades into numb acceptance. He was writing in the context of the reception being accorded to the Pope in Britain but what he said can apply equally to this island. “Much of what is normal now would have been deeply shocking to British people 50 years ago. We got used to it. How will we know where to stop? Or will we just carry on forever? As the condom-wavers and value-free sex-educators advance into our primary schools, and the pornography seeps like slurry from millions of teenage bedroom computers, it seems clear to me that shock, by itself, is no defence against this endless, sordid dismantling of moral barriers till there is nothing left at all.”

What is the defence? Teaching should be the defence, but when has any of your readers last heard a teacher, clerical or otherwise, comprehensively explain the unadulterated moral teaching of Christ on the sixth commandment of the Decalogue? Milton’s words seem as relevant today as they were in the 17th century:

The hungry Sheep look up, and are not fed,

But swoln with wind, and the rank mist they draw,

Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread…

There is no doubt but that there is a great deal of rank mist in the air. The Irish Times misread the Pope again today headlining its front page story, “The Pope Fears for the Future of Christianity”. He does not. He believes Christ two thousand year-old promise that He would be with us for all time, even to the end of the world. What he does fear for is mankind cut adrift from Christianity and he spelt out in no uncertain terms what things that can lead to. That is what we must all fear.

But we must also hope. Remembering that in a certain sense and at a certain point in human history, Christendom was reduced to three people standing around the foot of a Cross, we surely have grounds for hope. Despite all the negativity and rank mist we have witnessed over the past weeks, months and year, the demonstration of Christian faith, liturgical splendour and ecumenical good will we have witnessed in Britain over the past few days, show us that what was happening at the foot of that Cross is happening still and all the ugly demonstrations of bad will – or just plain blameless ignorance –  which seem to threaten it will never vanquish it.

Strange Fruit

“History may be servitude, History may be freedom,” the poet T.S. Eliot observed in Four Quartets. When it is the former it can also be lethal, as Britain and Ireland were reminded last week. The virus of Irish Nationalism produced another shocker with the revelation that a parish priest in Northern Ireland was the prime suspect in one of the worst atrocities in the three decades of mayhem and murder known as “The Troubles”. Bad history must bear a large part of the blame for this particular manifestation of evil, as it must for much of Ulster’s tragic tale over those 30 years.

The Chesney case, like recent scandals of clerical abuse, appals because of the shocking incongruity of a man committed to the beatitudes of the Christian gospel allegedly taking command of a para-military cell and committing mass murder in the pursuit of a political goal.

It was 1972, the bloodiest year in the recent history of Northern Ireland, the year of Bloody Sunday and the year in which 496 people died in political violence. An undeclared civil war was raging. On the morning of July 31 the local IRA unit detonated two car-bombs in the village of Claudy in County Derry. Nine people were killed, including three children. More than 30 were injured. In the weeks following, it emerged that one of the suspects was a priest in a small neighbouring parish, Father James Chesney.

He was never charged. He was never even questioned. His superiors, with the collusion of the civil authorities, eventually moved him out of the jurisdiction of the United Kingdom into the Republic of Ireland. He died of cancer in 1980. Officially he is only the number one suspect but few people now have any doubts about his crimes.

The Northern Ireland Police Ombudsman released a report last week sketching the case against Fr Chesney. Together with records of police intelligence, including interviews with Cardinal William Conway, it contains the text of an anonymous letter sent by a “Father Liam” to the police in Northern Ireland in 2002. The writer claimed that he had met Fr Chesney at a house in Donegal in late 1972. In a long conversation Chesney broke down and confessed his role in the bombings. “He said that he was horrified at the injustices done to the Catholic people… He became a member of the IRA and was soon in charge of a small number of volunteers,” the letter revealed. He had been ordered ordered to place bombs in Claudy to relieve pressure on the IRA brigade in Derry city”.

According to the letter, Chesney had wanted to give warnings of the bombs so the streets could be cleared but when they stopped at nearby Dungiven, the IRA men could not find a telephone box in working order.

“This horrible affair has been hanging over me like a black cloud,” Fr Chesney allegedly said. “I must talk to someone in authority before I die… I must meet my maker with a clear conscience. The souls of the deceased are crying out not for vengeance but for justice.” The police now think that errors and inconsistencies suggest that the letter was not written by a priest. But it may represent Fr Chesney’s state of mind.

Why didn’t the authorities act? Probably because they feared a bloodbath. What might have followed the arrest of a Catholic priest for the murder of nine innocent Catholics and Protestants did not bear thinking about.

The Claudy atrocity was the culminating one in a month in which nearly 100 people lost their lives. Just 10 days earlier, more than 20 bombs exploded in Belfast over a period of 75 minutes, killing nine people and injuring a further 130. Ulster was a powder keg. The arrest of a Catholic priest might have set a light to the fuse. For Catholics it would have been the last straw in victimisation; for Protestants the confirmation of everything they believed about the Catholic Church.

But commenting last week, Mark Durkan, former leader of the moderate nationalist party, the SDLP, while accepting the concerns people might have had, still holds that it was a grave error of judgement. The oldest of axioms should have been given priority: “Let justice be done, though the heavens may fall,” he said.

The real story behind this murkiest of murky affairs will probably never be known. Rumours are even spreading that the real reason for the non-arrest of Chesney is that he was an undercover agent for the security forces. But the mystery — if it is a mystery rather than just another example of Realpolitik at work – of the decisions taken by the agents of justice is only one part of story. The other is the mystery of how a man trained to live by and serve the gospel of Christ could end up in the place in which Chesney eventually found himself – allegedly a perpetrator of mass murder.

Perhaps there is no mystery. One of the patriotic icons of Irish history was the 1798 rebel priest Fr John Murphy. We can be sure that Fr James Chesney regarded himself as another Fr Murphy. To compare the two might enrage nationalists who revere one as a martyr while despising the the other as a terrorist. But this is the problem with bad history. The truth is that Chesney and Murphy responded to oppression in a similar way.

Fr Murphy led a rebellion against the forces of the Crown in the failed rebellion of 1798. He triumphed for a short period but was eventually captured, tried and barbarically executed. His story is retold in graphic detail in a ballad which is a virtual second Irish national anthem, Boolavogue.

Back in 1998 a long historical article about him appeared in An Phoblacht, the weekly newspaper of Sinn Fein, the Provisional IRA’s political arm. It tells the story of a priest, somewhat at odds with his pro-government bishop, but initially obedient in “getting people in his parish to hand in whatever weapons they held in a hope that such a gesture would relieve the terror being inflicted on the people of County Wexford by the crown forces.”

“But the Yeomanry continued their reign of terror. That radicalised Father Murphy to the point where he aligned himself with the highly organised United Irish structure in Wexford, particularly in the Ferns district.” A contemporary, Edward Hay, writing in 1803, says that seeing what was happening he advised the people “that they had better die courageously in the field, than to be butchered in their houses”.

Fr Murphy and others then organised and procured arms for a growing army. In the first major engagement with the opposing militia he routed them and nearly wiped them out: 105 out of 110 were killed while only six of the rebels died. The town of Enniscorthy was the next target. An Phoblacht recounts how “The attack, led by Edward Roche and Father Murphy, saw the town taken with high casualties on both sides; several hundred United Irishmen and around 100 of the North Cork Militia garrison lost their lives.”

Fr Murphy’s eventual capture and execution made him a hero. Militant nationalists used his story to inspire Irish armed resistance for 200 years. To give you an idea, An Phoblacht described him as a patriot cut down by the tyranny of the British and the servility of the Catholic hierarchy: “While men like Father Murphy… played an important role in the rising and in many subsequent attempts by republicans to wrest Ireland’s independence from Britain, the true history shows that far from being with the people in their fight, the Catholic Church has been guilty at the very least of obstructing them and usually being in active collaboration with the imperial forces in Ireland.” No doubt that was Fr Chesney’s view as well when he packed explosives into three cars which would explode on the streets of Claudy.

An Phoblacht’s account of the Murphy story rationalises the option for armed resistance and violence. It is dangerous but ultimately can be countered with the incontrovertible truth that violence only perpetuates violence and diminishes humanity in appalling ways. But the mythological and emotional account of the career of John Murphy and the entire rebellion of 1798 is much more dangerous. This is the version of the story lodged in the consciousness of the Irish race “wherever green is worn”, presenting Fr. John Murphy in the image of a pious martyr for faith and fatherland. It is much more difficult to deal with.

The hero worship of half-truths is one of the most lethal potions available to mankind. The priest-terrorist of Claudy is another sad example of the slavery induced by bad history. The mythology of Irish Nationalism must bear a large share of the responsibility for 30 years of suffering endured by the people of Britain and Ireland.

(This post was first published online in www.MercatorNet.com which carries links to other material including the ballad, Boolavogue.)

Bewitching Ways of Wickedness

The Irish public was treated to a heavy diet of vengeance and voyeurism last week when a notorious rapist was released from prison. A media feeding frenzy ensued when the gates of the prison opened to release this apparently unrepentant criminal.
There were questions as to whether an early release was justified, although all the relevant boxes had been ticked. But questions are one thing. Mobs baying for blood, reporters and photographers on motorcycles pursuing taxis taking ex-prisoners to their destinations around the city and camping in the front gardens of their relatives is quite another.
By a remarkable coincidence, on the same day as the media circus Ireland’s Press Ombudsman, John Horgan, was giving a lecture on the media’s tendency to consider the unwelcome publicity which they could give to criminals as an intrinsic component of the punishment for their crimes. He disapproved, reminding listeners that the primary role in protecting society against criminality belongs to the police and the courts, and should not be outsourced to the media.
“Is the sentence passed by the media always life? Is someone who has been convicted of a criminal offence and has served his sentence always a criminal, and not entitled to basic human and civil rights?”
He contrasted favourably the “reticence” of countries such as Sweden and Holland about publishing information on people involved in criminal trials with the amount of media attention these cases attract in Ireland. This reticence was justified, he said, because the public shame arising from media publicity was arbitrary and selective, and furthermore involved “collateral damage” to innocent parties and could even create a risk to the life of the criminal.
The tabloids’ offence is not to be light, entertaining, and crisp. The offence of the tabloid comes at the point where it distorts, dissembles, and grossly exaggerates out of all proportion the significance of the events it chooses to cover. Mr Horgan also pointed out that the word “fury” had appeared in recent Irish newspaper headlines in 14 out of 18 days. “Isn’t there a risk that if you cry wolf too often, when there’s only a rather cross dog barking outside, that people will become desensitised to real risks, injustices and scandals? Have we the energy to be that furious, all the time?”
(More of this on http://www.MercatorNet.com : http://www.mercatornet.com/articles/view/the_bewitching_ways_of_wickedness )

The End of Cocoon Culture

Some years ago a friend in the US – Irish born and educated but now working in academia there – asked me if I was on email. I looked puzzled and confessed ignorance. He brought me up to date. Not long after he visited again and this time asked me about what impact the pc phenomenon was having here. Once again, after an embarrassing and confusing wrong turn in which I probably muttered something about  personal computers he enlightened me on the joys and sorrows of political correctness and the new morality which was going to liberate mankind from moral and political darkness – he didn’t think.

It has often been said that we on this side of the Atlantic – and in this island (Ireland) in particular – lag something like ten years behind America in our thinking, practice and political fads. Probably not anymore. Google, Facebook, Twitter were with us in the twinkling of an eye and with them, in the twinkling of an eye again, comes everything else. We are now in the middle of it as soon as it happens – economic collapses and all. Good, bad or a matter of indifference? Definitely good and certainly not the latter. To be always coming from behind is not the best option – although to talk of options is now somewhat wide of the mark. There is no longer an option, neither economically, culturally nor in any other way. Geographically cocooned cultures in the developed world – little pockets of culture protected by artificial shells with greater or lesser resistance to the forces battling around them are no longer possible. Cultural values will now largely have to stand on their own two feet – or whatever it is cultures stand on. This is good. Good, but clearly dangerous.

It is good because it makes us think and makes us really live by and understand the values which we might previously have defended with various institutional structures – but then fail to appreciate for their true value. Take the conundrum of the hour, marriage. On this topic we are in the most complete muddle imaginable. The details of why and where might go to clear up that mess is for another day. Take religion. The connection between the practice of religion and the human condition as it is reflected in the debate in the public square of this little cocoon on the eastern shore of the Atlantic is so wide of the mark as to make one despair for the human race. Again, we might leave that for another posting.

So welcome to the new global world and welcome to the great reassembly of forces for the cause of truth and sanity which it offers us. Good-bye to a world where we lived in our cocoon, went to sleep in one decade and then awakened in another to find strange forces invading our little space without knowing how to cope with them. Now we live and fight shoulder to shoulder with fellow warriors across oceans – from the Atlantic to the Pacific, from the Pacific to the Indian Ocean and back to the Atlantic again.

Whence this epiphany? Twenty years ago I had to wait for my friend to come home to Ireland for his vacation to find out what was afoot on the other side of the Atlantic. Meanwhile I lived on in quiet desperation – which is the Irish as well as the English way – with the local media establishment selecting what I read or listened to  and offering me their agreed opinions on the same . Today I open my laptop in the morning and look up The New York Times, The Washington Post or the The Wall Street Journal. I then check The Irish Times to see what the locals are up to and invariably find my blood pressure rising at the spectacle of one-sided myopia scrolling before my eyes. I then slip down to Sydney from where Mercatornet.com emanates and gives a varied commentary on events.

The enormous significance of this new way of living and looking at our world – for it is nothing less than that – was brought home to me last week when I stumbled across an item in The New York Times. Their front page offered a link to their “bloggingheads” feature where they flagged a short discussion between Mollie Ziegler Hemingway and the utterly heterodox Catholic, Frances Kissling. There were examining the future of the Christian left – in America, ostensibly, but in the new context that I’m proposing, it can be anywhere.  I had previously watched a similar discussion between Ziegler Hemingway and another blogging head on the incipient and inevitable conflict – as MZH saw it – between the gay rights movement and orthodox Christians. Two things were very attractive about both of these discussions. Firstly there was the way the discussion progressed. Both presented their arguments in an utterly respectful way, above all respectful to each other as persons. Secondly there was the reassurance I felt at the conclusion when I heard Ziegler Hemmingway present such a rational, wise and friendly take on where orthodox Christians are or should be on these issues. This was not the Summa Theologiae but in this sound-bitten age it was close enough to its spirit to make me say a heartfelt Deo gratias.

I then looked further. Who is Mollie Zeigler Hemmingway I asked? Where is she coming from? How did she get here? What else is she saying? Google of course led me to some answers and I found her among a great group of people – no least her husband and her two little children. It was all there –who she writes for, where she studied. She is a Washington-based writer, contributes to The Wall Street Journal, Christianity Today and the GetReligion website. She is a Lutheran and the kind of Lutheran about whom an orthodox (small “o”) Catholic will have to look closely to find the points of difference between the one and the other. But the bottom line is that she talks a lot of sense.

But that is not all. She is a Robert Novak Journalism Fellow of the Philips Foundation – about which, again, I knew noting until I started following the MZH trail. The Phillips Foundation is a non-profit organization founded in 1990 to advance constitutional principles, a democratic society and a vibrant free enterprise system. In 1994, the Foundation launched its Robert Novak Journalism Fellowship Program to award grants to working print and online journalists to undertake and complete projects of their own choosing, focusing on journalism supportive of American culture and a free society. In 1999, the Foundation launched its Ronald Reagan College Leaders Scholarship Program to provide renewable cash awards to college undergraduates who demonstrate leadership on behalf of the cause of freedom, American values and constitutional principles. That description will, of course, make it an anathema to some. So be it.

Its website lists all its other Robert Novak fellows and I now return to my original epiphany: there are a lot of good people out there who are also talking sense and make those of us who may have felt somewhat like Davy Crockett in the Alamo, now feel a lot less beleaguered and under siege, indeed feel very much on a winning side.