Monday, 7 November 2016



State policy, clerical abuse and the intellectually disabled in 1950s Ireland.

The Papal Cross in Phoenix Park, Dublin, Ireland

They took the liberty of doing things ... an awful lot of evil things … I was only a young, innocent boy and I went through evil things that I didn’t want to go through. I went through their devilish hands … I was only dirt

So reads the pseudonymous account of ‘Graham’ from the 2009 Report of the ‘Commission to Inquire into Child Abuse’ (The Ryan Commission). Graham was sexually abused as a child at a Catholic-run special-needs institution, Our Lady of Good Counsel in Glanmire, Co. Cork. Tragically, Graham’s experience was far from exceptional. The publication of many recent reports all go to show the widespread abuse of vulnerable children in Catholic-run institutions in 20th-century Ireland and, in particular, the abuse of intellectually disabled children within institutions designed for their care. Concluding his testimony, Graham posed a question: ‘Whose idea was it to grab children and fill their schools up … [without the authorities] knowing what was going on?’

Answering Graham’s question is challenging and requires an examination of state policy towards intellectually disabled children in the 1950s. This was a pivotal period for disability care, in which Catholic-run institutions became the central component of Irish state disability policy. Indeed, their capacity more than doubled through the 1950s.

A predominant force shaping state policy was that of ‘subsidiarity’. This idea, which originated in Pope Pius XI’s 1931 encyclical (a papal letter sent to all the bishops), Quadragesimo Anno, held that ‘the task of the state … was to facilitate activity by other groups and persons within the community but not to supersede these if they were working with reasonable efficacy’. In the case of the intellectually disabled, this meant encouraging the development of voluntary sector efforts to care for this group. The state should not involve itself directly in the care of the disabled; such an idea was ‘a great evil and disturbance of right order’. The spread of subsidiarity was aided by a more general shift in governance from the late 1940s, as the state became ‘more totally committed to Catholic concepts’. 

A second probable reason lies in bureaucratic inertia within the Department of Health. Minutes from a department meeting in November 1953 show that there were three possible avenues ‘for providing [further] accommodation for mental defectives’: Catholic-run institutions, Catholic-managed institutions with lay staff, or institutions operated by local councils. Yet the only one to be considered was Catholic-run institutions. At the same meeting, Dr Dolphin, a senior civil servant in the department, noted his plans, already in place, to visit a number of religious orders to ‘enquire into their capacity for undertaking the care of Mental Defectives and the possible location of an institution which they might set up’. 

This does not account for the lack of state scrutiny. Testimony to the Ryan Commission described an unremittingly harsh regime for resident children, which included a deficient diet, emotional neglect and physical and sexual abuse as part of daily life. Shockingly, this deficient form of ‘care’ was described by many witnesses who attended such institutions until the late 1980s. A key reason for the lack of oversight lies in the venerated position of Catholic religious orders in Irish life. In the Irish Parliament (Dáil Éireann), the work of religious orders was incessantly portrayed as beyond reproach, with members of Parliament (Teachta Dála) describing how it was ‘a revelation to go into these institutions and see the spirit of devotion, self-sacrifice and loyalty’ displayed by orders in the care of the intellectually disabled. Such veneration may account for why Graham’s institution did not receive an official inspection from either the Department of Health or the Southern Health Board ‘between the period 1939 and 1990’. The only indication of any kind of reform came from an attempt to recruit lay females to work in male-only institutions. When the religious orders objected to this, however, the idea was abandoned.

To even begin to answer Graham’s question requires taking into account a diverse range of influences that shaped mid-20th-century Ireland. These forces determined the form of care for children with intellectual disabilities, which left the state as the funder for a network of privately run, uninspected institutions. Combined with the veneration of the authority and probity of the clergy, the Irish state produced a toxically insular system of disability provision, in which the deficient care and horrific abuse described by Graham would flourish.

India to buy rescue aircraft from Japan for $1.5 billion

India to buy rescue aircraft from Japan for $1.5 billion
India's Defence Ministry will agree on Monday to purchase 12 amphibious rescue aircraft from Japanese manufacturer ShinMaywa Industries worth $1.5 billion-$1.6 billion, the Nikkei news paper reported on Sunday.

Japan and India have been holding talks on the purchase for more than two years. It would one of Japan's first sales of military equipment since Prime Minister Shinzo Abe lifted a 50-year ban on arms exports and it reflects growing defence ties between the two countries.
India's Defence Ministry will approve the purchase of 12 US-2 aircraft at a Defense Acquisitions Council meeting scheduled for Monday, the Nikkei reporting, citing senior ministry officials it did not name.

The deal will be included in a memorandum of understanding to be signed during Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi's visit to Japan from Thursday to Saturday, the Nikkei said, citing the officials.

During the visit, Abe will also urge Modi to expand its usage of Japan's high-speed train technology, the Nikkei reported.


History of Palani Murugan Temple


Palani Malai

‘Palani Murugan Temple’ is one of the most famous Murugan temples in India. It is located in the township of Palani, 100 km west of Madurai, and near the famous hill station, Kodaikanal.

It is one of the major Arupadaiveedu of Lord Muruga. The other Arupadiveedus are Tiruchendur (100 km south-west of Madurai), Swamimalai (150 km east of Madurai), Tiruttani (50 km from Chennai), Pazhamudircholai (10 km north of Madurai) and Tiruparamkunram (10 km south of Madurai).

The Legend of the Palani Temple

According to legend, Sage Narada once visited the divine court of Lord Shiva at Mount Kailash. Lord Shiva was with his consort, Goddess Shakti, and their two children, Lord Ganesha and Lord Subrahmanya. Sage Narada gave Lord Shiva a mango fruit and told him that it was a special fruit, the fruit of wisdom.

Lord Shiva wanted his children to have the fruit of wisdom. However, when he offered it to them, Sage Narada asked that the mango not to be cut in two to be shared between the two sons, lest the power be diminished. Now, as a result, they had to decide who should have it. Shiva and Shakti decided that the son who first circles the Earth would get the fruit. Immediately accepting the challenge, Lord Murugan, started his journey around the globe on his divine vehicle, the peacock or mayil.

Lord Ganesha, who believed that his parents were his world, circumambulated Lord Shiva and Goddess Shakti and claimed the mango fruit. Lord Subrahmanya returned to Mount Kailash, only to find that Lord Ganesha had already won the contest. Lord Murugan felt he had been deceived and decided to leave Mount Kailasam. He reached to top of what is today called “Pazhani malai” (the Hill of Pazhani) and set up his abode there.

Goddess Shakti and Lord Shiva rushed to the hill and tried to pacify their son, calling him, Gnana Pazham Nee appa (in Tamil, “you are the fruit – Pazham; of wisdom – Gnana”). Hence this place came to be called Pazhani, or Palani.

Historical Background of Burj Khalifa


What prompted the government of Dubai to build Burj Khalifa?

Dubai Ruler Sheikh Mohammed Bin Rashid Al Maktoum (Photo Source: Drnicoleessiger)

CONCEPTION

Apparently, it was based on the government’s decision to diversify from an oil-based economy to one that is service and tourism based.

Officials of Dubai disclosed that it has become necessary for projects like Burj Khalifa to be built in the city to gain more international recognition and entice new investment opportunities.

Jacqui Josephson, a tourism and VIP delegations executive at Nakheel Properties said that “Sheikh Mohammed bin Rashid Al Maktoum wanted to put Dubai on the map with something really sensational,” and they really delivered something very sensational and amazing!

Burj Khalifa was designed to be the centerpiece of a large-scale, mixed-use development which would include 30,000 homes, nine hotels (the Address Downtown Dubai included), 3 hectares or 7.4 acres of parkland, at least 19 residential towers, the Dubai Mall, and the 12-hectare or 30-acre man-made Burj Khalifa Lake.


The Burj Khalifa has restored the record of being the location of the Earth’s tallest freestanding structure to the Middle East, where, for almost four millennia, the Great Pyramid of Giza claimed this achievement before being surpassed by Lincoln Cathedral in England in 1311.

The Burj Khalifa, was previously otherwise known as Burj Dubai before its name was officially changed to Burj Khalifa during its grand opening; giviing honor of the president of the U.A.E. H.H. Sheikh Khalifa bin Zayed al Nahyan for his crucial support in the project’s completion which coincided with the global financial crisis of 2007–2012, and which led to high vacancies and foreclosures. With Dubai deep in debt from its huge endeavor, the government was forced to seek multibillion dollar bailouts from its oil-rich neighbor Abu Dhabi.

Fortunately, the relentless effort of bringing Burj Khalifa into fruition has proven to capture world-wide attention and patronage.

10 Things You May Not Know About Annie Oakley


Not far from where she was born and first picked up a rifle, famed sharpshooter Annie Oakley passed away on November 3, 1926, at the age of 66. Blessed with keen hand-eye coordination, Oakley was perhaps the most famous woman in the United States while she starred in Buffalo Bill’s Wild West show performing incredible stunts such as shooting the ashes off a cigarette in her husband’s lips, hitting a target behind her by looking at a reflection in her bowie knife and slicing in half playing cards held edgewise at 30 paces. Check out 10 surprising facts about the renowned markswoman.

Annie Oakley was not her real name.

The fifth of seven surviving children, Oakley was born Phoebe Ann Moses on August 13, 1860, in rural Darke County, Ohio. Although she became a Wild West folk hero, the sharpshooter spent her entire childhood in the Buckeye State. Called “Annie” by her sisters, she reportedly chose Oakley as her professional surname after the name of an Ohio town near her home.

Oakley proved an expert shot at a young age.

While her sisters played with dolls, Annie tagged along with her father as he hunted and trapped in the woods. From an early age, Annie showed an extraordinary talent for marksmanship. “I was eight years old when I made my first shot,” she later recalled, “and I still consider it one of the best shots I ever made.” Steadying her father’s old muzzle-loading rifle on a porch rail, she picked off a squirrel sitting on a fence in her front yard with a head shot, allowing its meat to be preserved. The young girl’s shooting not only put food on the table, it eventually allowed her mother to pay off the $200 mortgage on the family house through the money Annie earned by selling the game she hunted to a local grocery store that supplied hotels and restaurants in Cincinnati.

She outgunned a professional sharpshooter—and then married him.

A Cincinnati hotelkeeper who knew of the country girl’s reputation arranged a shooting contest between 15-year-old Annie and a traveling professional sharpshooter named Frank Butler who regularly challenged local marksmen as he toured the country. Butler, who reportedly chuckled when he first saw his opponent, hit 24 out of 25 targets. The teenager hit all 25. After winning the shooting match, Annie won Butler’s heart. The two married the following summer and remained wedded for 50 years. They died within three weeks of each other in 1926.

A steamboat accident led to Oakley’s big show business break.

William “Buffalo Bill” Cody refused to hire Oakley for his Wild West show after their first encounter because he already had an expert marksman, world champion Captain Adam Bogardus, as part of his traveling troupe. However, in late 1884 a steamboat carrying the show’s performers sank to the bottom of the Mississippi River. The passengers made it off safely, but the sharpshooter’s prized firearms met a watery demise. Struggling with his equilibrium and his new guns for months after the accident, Bogardus quit Buffalo Bill’s Wild West show in March 1885, creating an opening that was filled by Oakley.

Chief Sitting Bull considered Oakley his adopted daughter.

Eight years after the Battle of the Little Bighorn, the Lakota Sioux leader who orchestrated the defeat of General George Custer’s troops attended one of Oakley’s performances in St. Paul, Minnesota, in March 1884. Mesmerized by her marksmanship, the Native American chief sent $65 to her hotel in order to get an autographed photograph. “I sent him back his money and a photograph, with my love, and a message to say I would call the following morning,” Oakley recalled. “The old man was so pleased with me, he insisted upon adopting me, and I was then and there christened ‘Watanya Cicilla,’ or ‘Little Sure Shot.’” In addition to a nickname that followed Oakley the rest of her life, Sitting Bull also reportedly gave her a pair of moccasins that he had worn at Little Bighorn. The two became even closer friends the following year when Sitting Bull joined Buffalo Bill’s Wild West show for a four-month stint. “He is a dear, faithful, old friend, and I’ve great respect and affection for him,” Oakley wrote of Sitting Bull.

Oakley offered to raise a regiment of sharpshooting women to fight in the Spanish-American War.

As the drums of war sounded on April 5, 1898, Oakley penned a note to President William McKinley on her custom letterhead, which showed her toting a gun while riding a bike and touted her as “America’s Representative Lady Shot.” The performer told the president that she felt confident that his good judgment would prevent war from breaking out between the United States and Spain before adding: “But in case of such an event I am ready to place a company of fifty lady sharpshooters at your disposal. Every one of them will be an American and as they will furnish their own arms and ammunition will be little if any expense to the government.” That offer and a similar one Oakley made during World War I were not accepted.

She sued William Randolph Hearst for libel and forced him to pay $27,000.

On August 11, 1903, two of Hearst’s Chicago newspapers reported that a destitute Oakley had been arrested for stealing a pair of men’s pants to pay for her cocaine addiction. In spite of the fact that Oakley hadn’t been in Chicago since the previous winter, newspapers across the country reprinted the story. The truth was that the woman who was arrested was a burlesque dancer posing as Oakley. Although most newspapers printed retractions, Oakley vowed that “someone will pay for this dreadful mistake.” She spent the next six years filing suit against 55 newspapers in the largest libel action the country had ever seen. She won or settled 54 of those suits, including the judgment against Hearst.

She competed at Wimbledon.

Before Wimbledon became world-famous for its annual tennis tournament, the London suburb was better known in sporting circles for hosting England’s biggest shooting event of the summer. While appearing with Buffalo Bill’s Wild West show in London to celebrate Queen Victoria’s Golden Jubilee, Oakley took part in the rifle competition on Wimbledon Common on July 20, 1887, as the Prince of Wales, the future King Edward VII, watched from the crowd. Although she was more proficient with a shotgun than a rifle, the London Evening News reported Oakley was “far and away” the best shot in the show, surpassing the performance of her rival Lillian Smith.

She was not an advocate for women’s suffrage.

Throughout Oakley’s life, she campaigned for equal pay for equal work. Although vocal in battling discrimination in the economic arena and advocating the participation of women in the military, she did not speak out for the right of women to vote. She hedged that the concept was acceptable “if only the good women voted.”

Her name is synonymous with free tickets.

In the late 1800s and early 1900s, ushers traditionally punched a hole or two in free tickets to the circus, theater or sporting events in order to differentiate them from those of paying customers when tabulating receipts. The pock-marked tickets resembled the playing cards that Oakley would shoot holes through during her performances, which led to free admissions being referred to as “Annie Oakleys.” According to the Dickson Baseball Dictionary, the term also became a part of baseball lingo to refer to a walk because it was a “free pass” to first base.

Saturday, 5 November 2016

The bibliophilia of Anglo-Saxon England

Eleanor Parker reveals the scholarly network of knowledge that was at the heart of Anglo-Saxon England and the love these scholars had for the pleasures of the written word.

The word of God: St Matthew depicted in the Grimbald Gospels, Canterbury, c.1010

My insides are filled with holy words, and my entrails bear sacred books – yet I can learn nothing from them.

This is a riddle by the Anglo-Saxon poet Aldhelm, to which the solution (as you may have guessed) is ‘book-chest’. It is one of a number of riddles from Anglo-Saxon England that play with the mechanics of books and writing, teasing the reader with ingenious descriptions of ink, vellum and decorated volumes.

Another celebrated example gives a riddling picture of a bookworm: ‘a thieving guest, no whit the wiser though he swallowed words’. In Old English an object like Aldhelm’s chest could be called a book-hoard (boc-hord) and, like a treasure-hoard, might be inhabited by a devouring wyrm. Neither book-chest nor bookworm learns anything from their encounter with books – so they are a sly warning to human readers to profit by the words they devour.

The bookworm riddle survives in a volume which was given to the library of Exeter Cathedral by Bishop Leofric, c.1070, and is still there. I have been thinking about books and their givers recently, since receiving a generous benefaction from the library of a scholar of Anglo-Saxon literature, which prompted me to realise what an important aspect of the community of scholarship the giving of books still is. In a digital age the idea of passing on books to younger academics might seem like an old-fashioned form of almsgiving, but it is going on constantly. It is valuable not only in itself but in what it represents: as books are passed on, they accumulate traces of their readers, a visible sign of the transfer and growth of knowledge.

Praise for this particular form of generosity goes back a long way. Bede records his gratitude to Benedict Biscop, abbot of Wearmouth-Jarrow and one of Anglo-Saxon England’s most distinguished bibliophiles. Benedict collected books while travelling through Europe, establishing the monastic library where Bede was educated (see the article on the Codex Amiatinus, p.44). Even on his deathbed he was still concerned for the fate of his library. Bede must have thought of Benedict as he pored over his books; through him that act of benefaction had a lasting impact on English history and literature.

Stories about books and their givers are recorded throughout the Anglo-Saxon period. Books were prized highly, both as physical objects and for what they contained, and so they were high-status gifts and an important way of displaying piety and generosity.

At a time when literate people might possess few books of their own, readers could nonetheless become attached to individual books. According to his hagiographer, St Wulfstan of Worcester used to tell a story about his childhood, which involved his youthful fondness for two particular books. As a child in the early 1020s, Wulfstan was educated in the monastery at Peterborough and was taught by the monk Earnwig, who was an expert scribe. Earnwig gave young Wulfstan some books to look after, a sacramentary and psalter he had illuminated with gold, and the boy fell in love with the rich decorations.

Then Earnwig, to Wulfstan’s disappointment – but with an eye to the advantages of royal patronage – presented the books to the king and queen, Cnut and Emma. They promptly sent the books as a diplomatic gift to the Holy Roman Emperor, leaving Wulfstan heartbroken and thinking he would never see them again. Fortunately, years later, the books were brought back to England and given to Wulfstan as a gift by someone who did not know of his connection to them. 

The young bibliophile Wulfstan was just the kind of person who might have appreciated the bookworm riddle, or the rapturous description of book-love in the Old English poem Solomon and Saturn: 


Books are glorious … They gladden the heart of every man amid the pressing miseries of this life. Bold is he who tastes the skill of books; he will ever be the wiser who has command of them. They send victory to the true-hearted, the haven of salvation for those who love them.

This poem is characterised by an intense interest in learning and arcane knowledge, with an insatiable appetite for boc-cræft, the ‘craft of books’. The value to be found in books and learning is hardly an uncommon theme in medieval literature, but the language here is appealing: it speaks of love and of the pleasure to be found in books amid the troubles of the world. What could be a more precious gift?

ISIS and Islam

History is often skewed to support a chosen view, but, for ISIS, a past derived from questionable sources has proved a powerful weapon.

Blurred past: Muhammad praying before the Kaaba in Mecca, Turkish, 16th century,

ISIS is an organisation as fascinating as it is abhorrent. It is not too cavalier to characterise it as the world’s bloodiest historical re-enactment society.

The chief conceit upon which ISIS bases its legitimacy is that it is practising Islam as lived by the prophet and his companions. Surrounded by enemies of Allah on all sides, it is its duty to wage jihad to give God’s sovereignty physical form. As Muhammad fought the polytheists of Mecca after fleeing to Medina, so must ISIS attack those it sees as analogous to the prophet’s foes: in effect, all who reject its version of Islam. 

The group’s online magazine, Dabiq, contains a regular feature entitled ‘From the Pages of History’. Complete with pictures of its fighters in mock-medieval dress, ISIS presents examples of exemplary warrior behaviour from Islam’s early history to exhort its sympathisers to Holy War. The closing paragraphs of a piece on ‘The Expeditions, Battles and Victories of Ramadan’ make this purpose explicit: 

This is how as-Salaf as-Sālih (the Righteous Predecessors) were in it! Jihad, battles, and action … do not allow another Ramadan after this one to pass you by except that you have marched forth to fight for Allah’s cause.

ISIS is hardly innovative in looking to the past to build a purer Islamic present. Its insistence that the true faith only existed in the generation of Muhammad and his immediate successors is taken in large part from the writings of modern Islamist intellectuals, such as the Egyptian Sayyid Qutb. Originally a nationalist whose development of extreme Islamist doctrines led to his execution in 1966, Qutb argued that all societies that fail to abide by the totality of the sharia, even if they are ostensibly Muslim, are in the same state of jāhilīyya (ignorance) that Islam came to correct. Allowing this situation to continue is unconscionable: it disrupts the natural order of God’s law and enslaves man to authorities beyond the only true authority, Allah. 

For Qutb, preaching correction was not enough. As he says in his influential tract, Milestones: ‘Since the objective of the message of Islam is a decisive declaration of man’s freedom … in the actual conditions of life, it must employ jihad.’ 

Qutb delved into the annals of Islamic history to justify this verdict. He extracted telling episodes and choice quotes from the mouths of the men who fought in the armies of the seventh-century Arab conquests. One scene that he seems to have taken from the 10th-century historian and exegete Muhammad ibn Jarir al-Tabari, for example, has an Arab warrior declare to his Persian enemy that he is impelled by God to fight them until they either convert or until he is martyred. There can simply be no other way. 

Qutb’s philosophy became terrifyingly influential in Egypt and across the Middle East. Among the disciples who sought to enact the master’s creed was Ayman al-Zawahiri, one of the founders of al-Qaeda.

Yet the use to which Qutb and ISIS put the texts of Islamic history begs an important, if not obvious, question. Is this legitimate scholarly use or lethally misleading abuse?

Trying to reconstruct the early history of Islam from the texts of the tradition is a task fraught with difficulties. Cardinal tomes like the History of the Prophets and Kings by al-Tabari are not primary sources for the history of the faith. They were compiled about two centuries after the events they describe and were ultimately reliant on a mercurial oral tradition that forgot as much material as it remembered. 

Moreover, these memories, as ever with oral tradition, were shaped to suit the assumptions and expectations of later ages, rather than to transmit accurate recollections from generations past. The Islamic histories often read more like historical romances than the accurate record they pretend to be, containing stereotyped episodes like that of the Muslim warrior explaining the philosophy of jihad to a Persian general. It clearly suits a literary scheme, but the notion that it captures more than an echo of the chaotic events of the seventh-century conquests borders on the incredible.

How, then, is it possible to reach beyond the rhetoric better to understand the first century of Islam? This is a question that has dominated recent western work on the subject and a question that is impossible fully to answer. By widening the source base and stressing the importance of earlier texts outside the Islamic tradition, however, it is possible to try to get a more nuanced idea of the complex and dramatic events that shaped the career of Muhammad and propelled his followers to conquest. 

Two interesting accounts preserved in the pages of the Byzantine chroniclers Theophanes the Confessor and the Patriarch Nicephorus, for instance, tell the story of the outbreak of the seventh-century conquests in a manner that directly challenges the assumptions of the Islamic tradition. These histories may admittedly be compilations made later than the seventh century, but there is good reason to believe that they rely on written evidence contemporary to the events they describe: a more stable means for the transmission of information than an oral tradition. 

They explain the outbreak of the supposedly Islamic invasions of the 630s in a manner that hardly resonates with the jihadist notion of Arabs moving out of the peninsula, driven solely by religious zeal. Rather, Theophanes and Nicephorus paint a picture of the breakdown of Rome’s relationships with the Arab clients to whom it had entrusted the security of its desert frontier. This rupture had solely material causes. After a long war with Persia, the Empire’s coffers were empty. Theophanes reveals that, when the Arab allies came to collect their wages, they were dismissed empty handed by an imperial official.

This decision had major strategic ramifications. An earlier raid on Palestine from the Hijaz had been repelled, but Theophanes records that the spurned Arab clients ‘went over to their fellow tribesmen, and led them to the rich country of Gaza’. The collapse of Rome’s eastern provinces, therefore, appears – as was the case with the fall of Rome in the West – to have come about, at least partially, when federate forces deprived of payment came to realise that biting the hand that feeds can lead to greater rewards.

Holy War, for some of the men remembered as the soldiers of Islam, did not enter into consideration. ISIS, therefore, is in hock not only to a novel Islamist ideology that rejects centuries of Islamic thought and practice. They are also in hock to bad history.

James Wakeley is studying for a DPhil in late Roman and early Islamic History at the University of Oxford.