An atom of meaning: the Luré§at trial (Part II)

The New Neo Posted on by

That’s the most important piece of evidence we’ve heard yet, said the King, rubbing his hands; so now let the jury—

If any one of them can explain it, said Alice, (she had grown so large in the last few minutes that she wasn’t a bit afraid of interrupting him,) I’ll give him sixpence. I don’t believe there’s an atom of meaning in it.

The jury all wrote down on their slates, She doesn’t believe there’s an atom of meaning in it, but none of them attempted to explain the paper.

If there’s no meaning in it, said the King, that saves a world of trouble, you know, as we needn’t try to find any.

[Part I can be found here. More background information here.]

(So far in the trial the identity of the defendant has been established, and two witnesses for the defense who have seen the videotapes in the possession of France 2 have testified that their content clearly indicates France 2 and Enderlin both lied, establishing truth as a defense to the charges against Luré§at. The witnesses were neither cross-examined nor challenged.)

Now it was time for the attorney for the plaintiffs—a blond women of some elegance—to speak. The main thrust of her argument was twofold: it started with a short bit to state that Luré§at was indeed responsible for the content on his website, and then came a fairly lengthy hymn of praise to the great and powerful Charles Enderlin.

Most of her speech was ad hominem; it had to do with who Enderlin is, not with refuting anything that had been said in court against him. Her stance: how can they say these horrible things about a man so great? One must make a serious investigation before saying something against such a renowned journalist!

As I wrote here, in France one of the elements a defendant must prove in a successful defense against a claim of defamation of a famous person is that the defendant launched a “thorough investigation” before making the allegedly defamatory statements. So his attorney’s emphasis on Enderlin’s fame was an important part of establishing the case; Enderlin’s highfalutin status required that any accusations against him be more tightly researched than a Harvard doctoral thesis.

The attorney went on to say that proof that Enderlin and France 2 lied was weak, and it’s bad to say this against such important people without very strong proof. But it’s hard to know what would have constituted proof strong enough to have convinced this court. True, there were only two witnesses, but both gave very strong testimony that went unchallenged. And, of course, there’s the mystery (still unsolved, despite my questioning various people about it) of why the tapes themselves had not been viewed by the court.

The entire trial had been downplayed, it’s true, despite the overwhelming importance of the issues therein (and despite—or perhaps because of—the great prestige of the great Enderlin), Keeping the videotapes under tight wraps went along with that tendency. Or perhaps it’s just part of the general downplaying of courtroom evidence in the French system.

Then again, perhaps it wouldn’t have mattered even if there’d been a plan to show the tapes. You may recall from Part I that this courtroom wasn’t equipped with a functioning video player.

For me, there were certain moments that crystallized the absurdity of the case. One was when the attorney for the plaintiff discussed Richard Landes’s testimony. Landes, a medieval history professor at Boston University and author of the website Second Draft devoted to the al-Durah case, and the blog Augean Stables focusing on related issues, gave what appeared to be cogent, clear, and compelling testimony that certainly riveted the judge (and, once again, I must issue a disclaimer: I’m an acquaintance and friend of Landes’s).

What appeared to be the sum total that the attorney for the plaintiffs had to say about Landes’s testimony? “If you can understand Landes’s explanation—well, I can’t.”

Okay then, moving right along. The attorney criticized the Israeli investigation of the site that later showed that the gunfire could not have come from the Israeli position, as Enderlin had originally claimed. The experts involved were not “real experts.” Even the Israeli paper, Haaretz, had criticized them!

The latter argument was of a type that apparently featured heavily in the first trial. It goes as follows: Israeli sources are considered biased by definition, unless they are criticizing Israel in some way, in which case they are the best authorities. Of course, this indicates a failure (perhaps understandable from the French point of view, coming as it does from a country where the press is under the thumb of the state and quite monolithic) to comprehend the free-for-all of argument in the Israeli media, with Haaretz being a newspaper that is so far to the left that it’s sometimes accused of being a Palestinian mouthpiece.

As for the lack of blood in the videotapes—well, plaintiff’s attorney indicated, sometimes people get shot without there being any blood. Okay, lady, if you say so. Forget having to introduce expert witnesses on the subject, forget evidence—forget the fact that this was allegedly a stomach wound, which are known to bleed freely and copiously.

The attorney went on to throw in the fact that Luré§at’s organization had been banned in Israel as being too extreme (at which point my interpreter, a young Frenchwoman who has lived in Israel, went quietly ballistic, whispering furiously to me in English, “But that’s a lie! That’s not true at all!” But alas, she hadn’t been called as a witness.)

(This tendency of plaintiff’s attorney to slip in allegations that hadn’t come up in the trial was a puzzlement to me, and remains a puzzlement. Experts on French law, please come forward and explain; I’d love to understand.)

The procurer is a special figure in the French legal system who is supposed to represent the interest of the people. At the first France 2 trial she apparently spoke out eloquently for the importance of freedom of speech, and recommended a ruling on behalf of the defendant, although her suggestion was mysteriously ignored (well, perhaps not so mysteriously–after all, France 2 is a state-run organization). This time the procurer—a different person than before—spoke briefly on matters concerning Luré§at’s identity (he is who he is) and the definition of defamation (the words in question fit the bill). And then she reiterated what seems to be the main point here, that charges such as “disinformation” and “lies” are a big thing against a journalist especially, and we have to be very careful how we talk about these images.

Then the lawyer for the defense spoke. His first argument was that Luré§at didn’t actually write the supposedly defamatory words on the website. His second argument actually mentioned liberty, however (remember that sign on the facade of the courthouse? Liberte? Ah, yes, liberty!) He mentioned that the right to criticize and to demonstrate (the words on the website had called for a demonstration against France 2) is a very important liberty. In a democracy, you have a right to criticize a journalist.

At this point the body language of all three judges seemed to tell the tale. They all looked down, and they held their arms in a tight and closed position. The procurer was leaning back a bit in her seat with her eyes closed; she appeared to be snoozing, although maybe she was just deep in thought.

Luré§at’s attorney went on to say that the video had none of the scenes Enderlin had said it contained, and on that point it was clear that he had lied. (But of course, since the court had never looked at the videotape, this became a case of “he said she said,” another unprovable assertion against the great man).

It may be true that every country gets the system of justice it deserves. Legal systems are not arbitrary; they reflect the values of the cultures from which they emerge, rather than being imposed on that culture; then, in turn, they further influence that culture. The French have a legal system that, like most civil law systems (vs. our common law system), emphasize[s] social stability, while common law countries focus on the rights of an individual.” The same could certainly be said of France itself.

As for the wording of the decision, to be issued about a month hence, we can expect something rather perfunctory (I’m still awaiting a translation of the ruling in the first trial, which I should receive soon). After all:

…common law opinions are much longer and contain elaborate reasoning, whereas legal opinions in civil law countries are usually very short and formal in nature. This is in principle true in France, where judges cite only legislation, but not prior case law.

As for the verdict itself, I will go out on a limb—and I think it’s a thick, heavy, extremely sturdy limb—and predict that the ruling will go in favor of plaintiffs France 2 and Charles Enderlin. With French law’s presumption of guilt on the part of the defendant, even if the trial had been lengthy and much evidence had been amassed, it would have been an enormous undertaking to try to legally prove that the defendants were absolutely correct in their assertions that France 2 and Enderlin were lying.

Of course, in the somewhat similar David Irving trial in England, where defendent Lipstadt was sued for defamation by “historian” Irving for having called him a liar and holocaust denier, defendant Lipstadt won her case against great odds. As I previously wrote:

British libel laws are notoriously skewed in favor of the plaintiff, and Irving fully expected to win or to force Lipstadt to settle for a tidy sum. But Lipstadt’s publisher Penguin, to its everlasting credit, decided to spare no expense to defend her, and itself.

Historian Richard J. Evans was hired by Penguin as a consultant, and became the star witness for the defense, which was ultimately victorious. They mounted the risky strategy of asserting that everything Lipstadt said about Irving was in fact true, which meant that the burden of proof was on them to prove it to be so. And yet they succeeded, and a verdict was rendered that stated unequivocally that Irving was indeed everything Lipstadt had alleged, and more (or, one might say, less).

What’s the difference between the Irving-Lipstadt trial and this one? It’s the gravity with which the British court approached the case, and the built-in relative fairness of the British laws of discovery.

Of course, it didn’t hurt that Lipstadt’s defense had access to contributions of money in addition to the funds Penguin was willing to spend—fighting Holocaust denial apparently being a more popular cause than fighting modern-day blood libels—and there were famous lawyers on their side. But part of the credit for the positive outcome of the trial is due to the British court system’s emphasis on evidence and discovery—for example, Irving was forced to enter his private papers into evidence, and they became a pivotal part of the defendant’s case.

But back to Luré§at; the irony abounds. I couldn’t help but think this was truly a topsy-turvy Alice in Wonderland world. It’s a world in which the famous journalist is forgiven his errors, for making statments—such as the one about the IDF doing the killing, or saying he had videotape of the boy’s death throes when no such tape exists—that are either markedly negligent (the first) or outright lies (the second). And the consequences have not just been on the order of hurt pride and reputation (the supposed results of Luré§at’s defamation of Enderlin)—oh no!—but death and mayhem of innocent people, and the turning of public opinion even further against Israel.

No thorough investigation is demanded from Enderlin. No, it’s Luré§at who needs to launch the thorough investigation—against Enderlin, before calling him a liar.

I’ve been accused of stirring a tempest in a teapot by writing about this. After all, why all this verbiage about an insignificant trial in a place like France, where everyone knows justice is compromised and the status quo is protected by the legal system? I’ll tackle the answer in a later post.

[Part 1 here.]

And more fear…

The New Neo Posted on by

A few more thoughts (in addition to these) about fear as a motivator for political stances:

I think one reason this “fraidy cat” accusation is such a persistent charge towards me is the pre-eminence of feelings among liberals and the Left. So, when looking for a reason for something as puzzling as my terrible apostasy, it’s easy to ascribe it to feelings (especially a feeling they can be condescending about, such as fear), rather than reason or cognition.

Anyone who actually reads my “A mind is a difficult thing to change” series (links on the right sidebar, folks) should understand that I’ve thought long and hard before reaching my conclusions. You may not agree with them, but the path was a mainly cognitive one–mixed with some emotion, as almost all cognitions are. But the main emotion was not fear.

What was the main emotion? I think perhaps outrage, which is more anger than fear, and betrayal, which is sorrow crossed with anger. The outrage is mainly towards the Islamic jihadists, the feeling of betrayal is mainly towards the press. I’m not going to go into it all over again; the “change” series discusses it almost ad nauseam, with more segments to come whenever I get enough time to write them (they’re all written in my head, but I know that doesn’t do my readers any good).

The only thing we have to fear…

The New Neo Posted on by

[Certain remarks about fear as a motivator for people such as myself (such as this comment, found in this thread), got me to thinking about writing a comprehensive response. I had that response all set in my mind, but then I realized it sounded familiar, and not just because I’d had those thoughts before. It turns out that I’d written those thoughts before, in this post entitled, “Fraidy cats and fear itself: Left and Right.”

And so I’m reposting it.]

There’s been a longstanding meme on the Left about the Right, one I’ve written about before. It’s a twist on the old schoolyard taunt, “Fraidy, cat, fraidy cat!”

The allegation is that the Right is motivated by fear–and unrealistic and wildly exaggerated fear, at that. My esteemed colleague Shrinkwrapped has written a recent and excellent piece on the subject.

Funny; when I look about me on the Right, I don’t see a whole lot of fear. Anger, perhaps, both at the Left and at the Islamist totalitarian enemy. But on the whole, the Right seems to me to be realistically facing and evaluating the threat before us, taking the enemy at its word about what it intends to do, and trying to learn the lessons of history. The Right wishes to take action against that enemy rather than wait in passive denial, wring its hands in fear, or pursue the false hope of appeasement.

One can disagree with the methods and approach of the Right without disagreeing about the degree of threat represented by the enemy. The Left, however, in choosing the “fraidy cat” argument, appears to be thinking along the following lines (excerpt from that previous post of mine about fear):

The legacy of Vietnam is that the left has a lingering mindset that considers national security concerns to almost always be mere excuses for government spying…The left, and many liberals, seem to feel that the raising of security issues in these situations is almost always bogus–a sort of screen, used by a proto-totalitarian government to cover its own misuse of power, with the goal of getting away with domestic spying on its enemies, and the further consolidation of its own power. If this is the conception, then national security concerns must be downplayed in almost all cases, and the role of fear as motivation for those concerns exaggerated instead.

I see the Right as motivated by realism about the goals of Islamist totalitarianism, and this leads to calls for action to block the enemy before the threat it represents becomes even greater, and the possibility of even more devastation looms larger.

But even if we are willing to grant, for the sake of argument, the Left’s charge that the main motivation on the Right is fear, we can say two things. The first is that in facing an enemy bent on one’s destruction and willing to purposely kill as many innocents as possible with all the weapons at its disposal, some element of fear (as in “apprehension of a danger”) is certainly warranted. The real question is whether the fear is realistic or whether it is exaggerated, and whether the person is paralyzed by that fear, or whether he/she takes appropriate action to forestall the feared consequences.

The left has its own fears, of course, and they are potent motivators, as well. As previously stated, they fear abuse of power by our own government in the pursuit of national security more than any foreign threat. To parse it even more finely, sometimes it seems that they fear abuse of power by a Republican executive branch more than anything; back in the days of FDR they liked a powerful federal government well enough, when it was run by a Democrat.

Speaking of FDR, it was he who famously said, “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.” The context in which he made that statement is interesting; take a look at his First Inaugural Address, delivered in March of 1933, when the nation faced the Great Depression, the subject matter of FDR’s speech.

FDR does indeed say, “The only think we have to fear is fear itself” (and, by the way, listen to the audio; what a speaker he was!). But this is the message in which his quote was embedded:

…the only thing we have to fear is fear itself””-nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance. In every dark hour of our national life a leadership of frankness and vigor has met with that understanding and support of the people themselves which is essential to victory…In such a spirit on my part and on yours we face our common difficulties [he follows with a long list of the problems the nation faced at the time]…Only a foolish optimist can deny the dark realities of the moment.

Then, as now, the danger of fear is not really fear itself. It is, as FDR stated [emphasis mine], “nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts.”

I submit that those words define the stance of the Left today far more than that of the Right–in fearing, for example, warrantless NSA wiretapping of calls with terrorist foreign nationals more than the consequences of not using reasonable tools in our arsenal in order to fight an implacable and vicious enemy (and see here if you wish to revisit the complexities of the legal arguments concerning these wiretappings).

And I agree, along with FDR, that “only a foolish optimist can deny the dark realities of the moment.” I happen to think the Left fits the definition of “foolish optimist” in denying the dark realities of the present-day Islamist totalitarian threat. The Left, of course, thinks people such as myself to be foolish optimists in denying the dark realities of the threats posed by the would-be dictators Bush and Rove, and that we are timid and cowering fraidy cats in assuming that people such as Ahmadinejad mean exactly and precisely what they say.

[NOTE: And speaking of fear…]

This is what it sounds like when narcissists apologize

The New Neo Posted on by

They say things like this:

I sincerely regret that my words were misinterpreted…

A general rule of thumb is that narcissists talk a lot about themselves; “I” this and “I” that–but rarely as the subject of the action verb in an apology. It’s unusual for narcissists to apologize at all, and ordinarily they only do so after a great deal of vigorous arm-twisting. One can only imagine how sore Kerry’s is right now.

In the above sentence Kerry appears to be apologizing for something he did when he starts with the laudable words, “I sincerely regret.” But that’s just a decoy. He’s actually talking about how he feels about the controversial action, not making himself the subject of the action itself.

In Kerry’s sentence, the locus of the offensive action is actually in the listener, not the speaker. The problem is that the listener “misinterpreted” Kerry’s words. A better way to put it would have been for Kerry to have said something like this:

“I sincerely regret that my words led listeners to believe that…. ,”(or)

“I sincerely regret that I used an awkward phrase that conveyed something different than I intended…”, (or)

“I sincerely regret that the words I used sounded as though I meant…”

But if the American Legion accepts his apology, then so do I.

And, by the way, for the record, I believe Kerry’s assertion that what he actually intended was to make a joke about Bush (albeit a lame one, and a “stupid” one, given the fact that Kerry’s college grades were apparently worse than GW’s) rather than to put the troops down for stupidity. I also happen to believe that Kerry does share the common liberal/left belief that the majority of troops are composed of the downtrodden, exploited masses (I’ve discussed such beliefs on the part of liberals and the Left here and here).

But I think Kerry’s an equal-opportunity condescender–he looks down on everyone. Like Pooh-Bah in Gilbert and Sullivan’s “The Mikado,” he can’t help it; he was born sneering:

NANKI-POO: But how good of you, for I see that you are a nobleman of the highest rank, to condescend to tell all this to me, a mere strolling minstrel!

POOH-BAH: Don’t mention it. I am, in point of fact, a particularly haughty and exclusive person, of pre-Adamite ancestral descent. You will understand this when I tell you that I can trace my ancestry back to a protoplasmal primordial atomic globule. Consequently, my family pride is something inconceivable. I can’t help it. I was born sneering. But I struggle hard to overcome this defect. I mortify my pride continually. When all the great officers of State resigned in a body because they were too proud to serve under an ex-tailor, did I not unhesitatingly accept all their posts at once?

PISH-TUSH: And the salaries attached to them? You did.

POOH-BAH: It is consequently my degrading duty to serve this upstart as First Lord of the Treasury, Lord Chief Justice, Commander-in-Chief, Lord High Admiral, Master of the Buckhounds, Groom of the Back Stairs, Archbishop of Titipu, and Lord Mayor, both acting and elect, all rolled into one. And at a salary! A Pooh-Bah paid for his services! I a salaried minion! But I do it! It revolts me, but I do it!

NANKI-POO: And it does you credit.

POOH-BAH: But I don’t stop at that. I go and dine with middle-class people on reasonable terms. I dance at cheap suburban parties for a moderate fee. I accept refreshment at any hands, however lowly. I also retail State secrets at a very low figure. For instance, any further information about Yum-Yum would come under the head of a State secret.

[Nanki-Poo takes his hint, and gives him money]

POOH-BAH: [Aside] Another insult and, I think, a light one!

[NOTE TO TROLLS: No, I don’t think Kerry took any bribes or divulged any state secrets, about Yum-Yum or otherwise.]

[ADDENDUM: For those who’ve read the comments section of this thread and are interested in further elaboration on my response to the “you’re motivated by fear” charge, please see this and this.]

The Sanity Squad: women as meat, and elections again

The New Neo Posted on by

The Squad’s latest podcast is now available at Pajamas Media.

Dr. Sanity, Shrink, Siggy, and I discuss the Mufti of Australia’s remarks likening immodest women to uncovered meat left out in the street (oh, what a charmer that Mufti is!), as well as the logistics of the election and why voting reform is so difficult.

And please wish Dr. Sanity well with her upcoming knee replacement surgery.

He’s baaack: Kerry opens mouth, inserts foot; opens mouth, inserts foot; opens…

The New Neo Posted on by

I’ve been quite happy with John Kerry’s relative absense from the political scene ever since a certain November day two years ago.

On the other hand, that joy is tempered with just a teeny bit of sorrow at not having him to kick around any more. But like Nixon, he’s back, if only for a little while (please, please, let it be for only a little while).

By now you probably know what happened: first Kerry dissed members of the military, saying they’d ended up in Iraq because they hadn’t done well in school. Then he refused to apologize and released an over-the-top attack on Republicans for playing politics with his flatfooted remarks. He said the whole thing was a misfired joke in which he’d meant to say that it was Bush who hadn’t done well in school and therefore had led us into a stupid venture such as Iraq.

Kerry’s the talk of the blogosphere, leading me to believe that he might be a poster boy for the contention that to narcissitic people, bad attention is better than no attention at all. The Democrats might well wish they’d never seen the man; it’s hard to believe he ever was nominated for President and actually almost won but for a few votes in Ohio.

What strikes me about Kerry’s remarks is what’s struck me so many times before: something about this man is very, very weird.

I didn’t open this post with a comparison to Richard Nixon for nothing. Nixon was another man in public life who always struck me as profoundly weird on a personal level. Most politicians have a sort of ease with people, and even charm–for example, both Bill Clinton and George W. Bush possess it, although in very different versions, as did JFK and FDR.

Kerry is (and Nixon was) profoundly ill at ease within himself. With forced and awkward affect, it’s as though he’s studied what real people look and sound like, and is desperately trying to imitate it but can never get it quite right.

Both Kerry and Nixon seem(and seemed) to have trouble telling jokes, for example. If this recent fracas was a joke that backfired, as Kerry has claimed, then it’s another example of his tin ear for humor. And even if he’d delivered the lines right, the joke just isn’t funny. Stranger still is his overwhelming self-puffery and self-righteousness, almost to the point of caricature.

It’s as though Kerry’s a very bad actor playing the part of–himself.

Here are some excerpts from his response. Let’s begin at the beginning, with a classic opening line that’s funnier than any of Kerry’s intentional jokes:

Let me make it crystal clear, as crystal clear as I know how.

Which is, of course: not very.

Kerry follows with:

My statement yesterday–and the White House knows this full well –was a botched joke about the president and the president’s people, not about the troops. The White House’s attempt to distort my true statement…

Now, how on earth could the White House have known full well that it was a botched joke? And how could Kerry know full well that the White House knew full well? It’s one thing for Kerry to claim ex-post-facto that it was a botched joke, and to let people decide for themselves. But to contend that it’s botched-jokeness was so exceedingly obvious that the White House knew it “full well?” Bizarre, absurd, and nonsensical.

But Kerry doesn’t even seem to understand this; all he knows is he must go on the attack. It’s a mark of his narcissism that he’s incapable of stepping outside himself, of hearing his own words as others hear them, of putting himself in their places and trying to imagine what meaning they’d glean from what he originally said.

And then there’s the odd phrase (Kerry specializes in odd phrases, and they’re often the most telling part of his utterances): The White House’s attempt to distort my true statement [emphasis mine]. Any other person would have said, “my statement.”

Which “true statement” is Kerry talking about? The joke about the President doing poorly in school and thus leading us into Iraq? That “true statement?” Or is Kerry referring to the other “true statement” (we’ll call it the true true statement) the one that seems to have been the original meaning of his remarks, that only stupid people who did poorly in school go into the military? Will the real “true statement” please stand up?

It goes on and on. The allegation that McCain, as well the White House, knew full well what Kerry actually meant by his little joke. The macho posturing. The swagger that he can’t quite pull off. The accusation that the Republicans are about politics, whereas he isn’t. The reference to how America knows his “true feelings” about veterans. This from the man who launched the controversial Winter Soldier investigation, and whom many veterans detest because they feel he told defamatory lies about their service in Vietnam, all for the sake of his own glory.

Kerry knows–he must know, unless he’s even more delusional than I think he is–that he’s vulnerable on the issue of his Vietnam service and his criticizing veterans. And I fear he doth protest too much.

Smart Democrats are distancing themselves from Kerry, saying “thanks but no thanks” to his backing on the campaign trail. Perhaps if enough do so, even a narcissist like Kerry will finally get the hint.

But I wouldn’t lay money on it. A while back, Roger Simon pointed out Kerry’s remarkable resemblance to a stock commedia dell ‘arte figure known as “il Capitano,” or the braggart soldier.

The braggart soldier doesn’t ever get it. Next thing we know, Kerry will be offering the classic excuse il Capitano offers for his lack of an undershirt:

I used to be an exceedingly fierce and violent man, and when I was made angry the hair which covers my body in goodly quantity stood on end and so riddled my shirt with holes that you would have taken it for a sieve.

Non-talking New York Blues

The New Neo Posted on by

The New York Times has tackled a subject near and dear to my heart.

In this article that appeared Sunday, October 29, called “The Elephant in the Room,” Anne E. Kornblut faces the fact that politics has become the untouchable third rail of conversation at the dinner parties and the book clubs and the mothers’ play groups that form the glue of our social interactions these days. Even families aren’t immune to the cold chill that descends when the topic comes up (tell me about it!).

Judith of Kesher Talk has a masterful and heartfelt post on the subject. She’s been there–oh, how she’s been there!

The Times article, which is well worth reading in its entirety, is a curious document indeed. It describes behavior–the social shunning of those who disagree, mainly on the part of liberal Democrats–that is neither liberal nor democratic. It’s not even civil. And yet I can only assume that much of the Times’s readership is in basic sympathy with that behavior.

I’ve never had the experience of being in a group of Republicans as the lone liberal Democrat, even back when I was a liberal Democrat (I still consider myself a liberal–of the classic variety–but not a Democrat). Maybe it’s because liberal Democrats (and conservative Republicans?) tend to hang out with their own kind, not by design necessarily but by confluence of interests and activities. Perhaps conservative Republicans are just as nasty to their liberal friends and family members; I really wouldn’t know (although if one of the commenters to Judith’s thread is to be believed, in Utah the Republicans are quite nice to the liberals in their midst).

But I do know that conversos, neo-neocons such as I, reprobate traitors to their political roots, are probably exposed to this sort of intolerance for differing opinion most often, for the simple reason that we still tend to socialize with liberals. After all, we didn’t make a bunch of neo-friends to go with our neo-neocon status, nor did we get adopted by a neo-family. The fallout and the flak has been difficult, although most of the time, by now, we do the “agree to disagree” thing and it works out okay.

I know people whose marriages have suffered greatly from differences of opinion that previously were something to joke about. Now–as the article points out–viewpoints have hardened and the other side has been demonized to the point where the Other has become the Enemy.

It’s a reflection of what’s happened in Congress, as well. As districts have become more rigidly fixed along polarized lines, and members of Congress have become more extreme on both sides, collegiality has gone out the window.

But let’s look at that Times article more closely. It features a liberal woman of thirty-seven named Sheri Langham, whose parents are Republicans. It never used to be much of a problem for Sheri before, but now she says, politics “became such a moral litmus test” that she stopped speaking to her 65-year-old mother for a month.

Sheri again, on her mother: she became the face of the enemy.

To her credit, Ms. Langham came out of her funk and started talking with her evil Republican mother once again, only this time they’ve agreed not to discuss politics. But Ms. Langham puts her finger on the source of much of the hatred on the Democrat side: Bush supporters have become “the enemy.”

American politics have always been contentious. I grew up with fierce political disagreements among family members, and arguments whenever the group got together, which was often (the sides in question were liberal, left, and far-left, by the way). But if people stopped speaking over politics, it was the rare exception. Now it seems, if not the rule, certainly a fairly commonplace phenomenon.

And even in the Times article, it seems to be the liberals doing most of the outright shunning.

The article reports, however, that many people in both parties are choosing to be among friends who agree with them rather than deal with the contention of differing views. As Judith mentions in her post, political discussions among the liberals with whom she hangs out (or used to hang out) seem to have evolved (or devolved?) into support groups:

In other words, they brought up politics, but they are the only ones who get to play. If you join in, you are the one who soured the conversation by bringing up politics. Because they weren’t trying to start a political discussion, they just wanted to commiserate with friends. You party pooper.

Yes. And the shock of learning that someone who somehow looks liberal (whatever that might mean; I don’t wear Birkenstocks) and sounds intelligent and even likes the arts and isn’t into Nascar racing might actually disagree on political issues is so profound it sometimes can’t be processed properly.

I recall being at a party where a political discussion was being held–actually, it was more of a political support group, until I made the mild comment that I agreed with Bush on that particular issue (I don’t recall any more what it was).

The woman closest to me asked, “What did you say?” I repeated my response. She asked again; this happened three times. She wasn’t being sarcastic. And she wasn’t hard of hearing. She simply was having trouble assimilating the information; it did not compute that someone like me could agree with someone like him.

I’m reminded of the famous remark attributed to film critic Pauline Kael, to the effect that she could hardly believe Nixon had won in ’72 because no one she knew had voted for him. And since I so love to do research, I looked up the remark and discovered this slight correction; it turns out Ms. Kael was misquoted. She actually seems to have refused to comment on Nixon’s election when questioned by a reporter, and gave as her reason the fact that she didn’t even know anyone who voted for him.

That seems to me to be a sort of comment, as well. But it’s not the same comment as “How could he have been elected? No one I know voted for him!” which strikes a note of arrogance and insularity astounding even in a woman who probably moved in rarified circles.

Her actual comment, however, is just as good for the purposes of this essay; I have no trouble whatsoever in believing that Kael had no friends who voted for Nixon.

Actually, I’ll amend that: I have no trouble whatsoever believing that Kael had no friends whom she knew had voted for Nixon, who talked about it openly in the liberal circles of literary New York. But perhaps–just perhaps–she knew someone who was a Nixon supporter, and who was in the closet about it.

We don’t know what we don’t know–although we may think we know–and if people don’t speak up, we continue not to know. And, believe me, if I were voting for Nixon in the liberal New York of 1972, I’d probably keep my mouth shut about it, too (but yes, indeed, I was one of the 38% of the country who voted for McGovern).

[NOTE: Part II of the Lurécat trial planned for tomorrow.]

Hand round the refreshments: the Luré§at trial (Part I)

The New Neo Posted on by


Here’s Alice, called as a witness at the trial of the Knave of Hearts in Wonderland (otherwise known as France—minus the jury, that is):

What do you know about this business? the King said to Alice.

Nothing, said Alice.

Nothing WHATEVER? persisted the King.

Nothing whatever, said Alice.

That’s very important, the King said, turning to the jury. They were just beginning to write this down on their slates, when the White Rabbit interrupted: UNimportant, your Majesty means, of course, he said in a very respectful tone, but frowning and making faces at him as he spoke.

UNimportant, of course, I meant, the King hastily said, and went on to himself in an undertone, important—unimportant—unimportant—important–as if he were trying which word sounded best.

Some of the jury wrote it down important, and some unimportant. Alice could see this, as she was near enough to look over their slates; but it doesn’t matter a bit, she thought to herself.

Why am I so incensed over the second France 2 trial, when the verdict hasn’t even been rendered yet? And why am I close to certain that I know what the verdict will be (hint: the same as the first trial—victory for France 2), although I’d be happy to be proven wrong?

Remember, the issues in this trial are enormous: a famous journalist disseminates a story that’s seen around the world, complete with inflammatory photos derived from the video. The story and photos spark many retaliatory murders in the name of the martyred boy. Although many other photographers are present that day at the spot where the event is alleged to have happened, the story is substantiated only by a single tape filmed by France 2’s Palestinian stringer Talal (journalist Enderlin was not present). The video doesn’t show what it purports to show, although the journalist alleges that it did. Later, forensic evidence contradicts what the journalist has claimed.

Now that same journalist and his state-run TV station are suing three French citizens who have accused them—rather mildly, at that, by internet standards—of lying.

One would think these trials ought to take more time and effort than the run-of-the-mill traffic violation. And in fact, they have—but just a little bit more. Each case so far has lasted just a few hours.

That is peculiar, to say the least. I’ve been told that in France trials tend to be much shorter than in the US (where, if truth be told, many of them are too long). But the facts of this case, and its importance, should certainly have dictated far more attention and care than I saw demonstrated in that Palais de Justice courtroom last Tuesday. And, in fact, a run-of-the-mill traffic case in the US does generate more attention and care than I saw in that French courtroom.

For example, the head judge (who happened to resemble Dennis Miller with a two-day growth of stubble—and that’s not necessarily a bad thing) announced early on that, although witness Richard Landes had been slated to show a videotape, this particular courtroom wasn’t equipped with a functioning video player, and so it wouldn’t be shown.

Oh, yeah; whatever.

My Eurocentric trolls probably won’t like me for making the following contention (but they don’t like me anyway, so what the hey?), but it’s my impression that in the dinkiest courtroom in the smallest podunk town in the USA, if something like that were to happen, a functioning machine would either be obtained or the court would adjourn until one could be located.

But that was only the tip of the iceberg. I’m certainly not an expert in French law, and I only had a chance to ask a few questions of the lawyer after the trial, but the whole issue of evidence seems to be a very lax one in the French system. In other words, there doesn’t seem to be a whole lot of attention paid to evidence at all.

Nor to logic, actually. The whole thing played like a version of “he said, she said,” only with nifty costumes—black robes and white cravats for the judges and lawyers. blue T-shirts for the gun-toting gendarmes.

The trial opened with the judge describing the charges, ascertaining that the defendant was indeed whom he purported to be, and stating the supposedly defamatory words. So far, so good.

The defendant was Pierre Luré§at, 39, a Frenchman who is a Jerusalem resident. Luré§at is the president of an organization called “Liberty, Democracy, and Judaism,” and is listed as the legal operator of a Web site, www.liguededefensejuive.com, that urged readers in 2002 to demonstrate against “the lies of France 2,” suggesting that France 2 and Charles Enderlin be given an award for disinformation.

Unlike Karsenty, who’d been a presence at his defamation trial (the first one, a month ago), Luré§at didn’t attend. Neither Enderlin nor any representative of France 2 has been at either trial, and I doubt they’ll go to the third one, either.

Perhaps Luré§at had read the writing on the wall from Karsenty’s trial where, despite the recommendation of the special court reporter (a figure in French courts who represents the interests of the people) that the court find for Karsenty, the judges took the unusual step of going against her suggestion. At any rate, not only was Luré§at a no-show, but one of his defenses appeared to be that he hadn’t actually written the words in question on his website; someone else had.

Richard Landes, who is one of the few people outside of France 2 who’s seen Talal’s tape, testified for the defense, based on his study of the al-Durah incident (you can see some of his reasoning at his blog and his website, if you’re not already familiar with his work).

Although the plaintiff’s lawyer asked not a single question of Landes (she appeared, rather, to be engaged mostly in admiring her own nifty high-heeled black boots during his testimony–I had a good view of her from behind and across the rather small courtroom), the head judge seemed to perk up during it. The judge actually showed some affect then—something I hadn’t seen him demonstrate till that moment. He seemed interested and concerned.

Perhaps he was merely concerned with the fact that the trial was already lasting longer than he wanted it to. But perhaps he was genuinely interested. and genuinely distressed by what he was hearing: missing footage, no blood when the child was supposedly shot, no bullets shown from the Israeli position.

In the first trial, this sort of judicial interest (on the part of a different judge) had been taken by many of Karsenty’s supporters to actually mean something in terms of the decision. But this time no one was that naive.

The prosecutor called not a single witness, nor did she ask one question of either of the two witnesses called by the defense, the second of whom was French journalist Luc Rosenzweig. The witnesses in this courtroom were required to stand and face the judges, so the audience was unable to see their faces from the front. But I was impressed nevertheless by Rosenzweig’s controlled outrage. Rosenzweig, a man in his early sixties who is a former chief editor of Le Monde, fairly vibrated with contempt for what Enderlin and France 2 had done, were doing, and might do again.

My sense is that some of his sense of outrage came from the fact that he thinks they have defamed the honor of journalism. He mentioned that Enderlin’s acts—lying about what was in Talal’s rushes, refusing to disclaim footage that even Enderlin himself had privately admitted was mostly staged–go against journalistic ethics.

Rosenzweig, like Landes, happens to be one of the few people on earth outside of France 2 employees who have seen the Talal tapes. The court, of course, didn’t see fit to count itself among them; shockingly, the tapes have been released neither to the court nor to the public.

I could not get a straight answer from anyone as to how the trial was able to proceed without the court or the defense compelling a viewing of the tapes. But perhaps the attitude towards the missing/broken video machine is a clue—the French court simply does not care about evidence, the mainstay of our legal system What does it care about? As best I can tell: power, prestige, and reputation; and saving time, money, and effort.

It’s a bit like another of my favorite trials (the source of the excerpt that began this post): that of the Knave of Hearts in Alice in Wonderland, where Alice muses at the outset: I wish they’d get the trial done, and hand round the refreshments!

One of the highlights of the trial—in fact, it may have been the highlight of the trial for me—was when Rosenzweig snorted, “I’ve said a lot worse [than Luré§at did] about Enderlin lying, and he never went after me! Enderlin lied repeatedly in the affair.” Rosenzweig was emphasizing not only that Enderlin is a liar, but that Enderlin and France 2 have been very careful in their choice of targets; I think I’m safe in predicting that they’ll not be coming after Rosenzweig next.

No, it’s pretty clear they want these trials to remain low profile—and in fact, until now, they have.

[Part II here.]

Another changed mind, this time in France

The New Neo Posted on by

Will wonders never cease?:

French Foreign Minister Philippe Douste-Blazy declared last week he has changed his opinion on Israel’s controversial separation barrier in light of its drastic effect on terror…”I have significantly evolved on the matter of the separation fence,” said Douste-Blazy on French Jewish television TFJ on Thursday. “Although the wall was a moral and ethical problem for me, when I realised terror attacks were reduced by 80 percent in the areas where the wall was erected, I understood I didn’t have the right to think that way.”

On the one hand, it’s good to hear that Douste-Blazy has evolved so very significantly.

On the other hand, what had he originally thought was going to happen when the Israelis built the wall? Does he understand the principle of cause and effect? Did he lack the capacity to understand the reasoning behind the wall? Did he understand it, but didn’t believe it, because his kneejerk reaction was to discount everything Israelis say? Is he speaking on his own now? Or did he get the okay from the higher-ups (almost certainly the case)? And, if so, why? Is this an actual change of mind, some sort of signal that France is softening its stance towards Israel, if only un peu?

Hamas wasn’t all that happy with Douste-Blazy’s evolution:

“It is the Palestinian nation which is suffering from the separation fence, not the French nation,” said Hamas spokesman Fawzi Barhoum. “Our nation is paying a high price for the separation and he [Douste-Blazy] must understand that the wall is the symbol of racial segregation and isolation.”

In other words, Hamas wishes to remind France that it needs to return, and pronto, to the proper leftist multi-culti line. However, in a rare moment of actual grounding in actual reality rather than rhetoric, France appears to be deviating from regarding the wall as a symbol of anything, and is instead noting that it has an actual function in the real world, which is to keep out those Palestinians who are intent on coming into Israel for the express purpose of blowing to smithereens as many Israeli men, women, and children as they possibly can.

How unsymbolic of France.

[NOTE: U*2 at ¡No Pasaré¡n! explains the motive behind France’s change of mind. Makes sense to me. And so, France may be regarding the wall as a symbol after all–a symbol of what France would like to do to its own Muslim population these days.

I’ve added ¡No Pasaré¡n! to my blogroll. I’m sure you’ll see why when you read their self-description: Behind the Faé§ades in France: What expats and the mainstream media (French and American alike) fail to notice (or fail to tell you) about French attitudes, principles, values, and official positions”¦ ]