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Showing posts with label Toronto Star. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Toronto Star. Show all posts

Wednesday, 24 November 2021

Canada's Indigenous history eqiuvalent to U.S. Jim Crow and South Africa's former apartheid

(sent as letter to Toronto Star)

published as lead letter-to-the-editor Saturday Toronto Star. Nov. 27/21

 page IN8 under heading Jim Crow? Apartheid? Let's look closer to home

 Dear Editors,

I was pleased to see The Star give the Wet'suwet'en blockade arrests by the RCMP front page coverage Tuesday. The headline did read "Journalists Released ...", but front page news stories like this are starting to show we're waking up as a nation to the incredible ongoing brutal treatment of our First Nations Peoples. With the recent discovery of the hundreds (so far) of children's graves scattered on the sites of residential schools, the reality of this genocidal horror has shocked many of us wide awake. I'm starting to understand that our national shame is a much larger elephant in the room than previously thought. Our national problem is truly and sadly on a scale with the ongoing Jim Crow brutality in the U.S. and the former apartheid system of South Africa.  

Sincerely,

Chris Faiers
(signed)

FYI here's my blog post about visiting the Mohawk rail blockade in Tyendinaga  Feb./ 20:

http://riffsandripplesfromzenrivergardens.blogspot.com/2020/02/

 

                                                                    ~    ~    ~

 Thanks, Patrick  :  )-

 In the final days of CLM (Canadian Liberation Movement)  in the mid 1970s we were coming around to understanding that the colonial treatment of First Nations should be an important issue for us. The Marxist-Leninist groups in Canada generally spent time debating/fighting issues like Amerikan neo-colonialism of Canada, Quebec independence, and international problems like apartheid, etc. . A major issue was right under our noses, and we started featuring articles in our newspaper, New Canada. I remember doing a long interview with Tapwe Chretien, one of the founders of the Dene Nation, which became a several page feature.

Sadly we also did a series on the mercury poisoning at Grassy Narrows. That was in the early to mid-1970s, and things haven't improved there after almost half a century! The initial tie-in for CLM was our opposition to the toxic lead poisoning being carried on by Canada Metal down on Eastern Avenue. I also did an interview and article with Vern Harper, leader of The Toronto Warriors. I vaguely remember reading an obit for Vern not as long ago as expected. 

peace & poetry power!
Chris/cricket

                                        

Friday, 4 December 2015

Star article on Allan Gardens with pic of Milton Acorn

Your Toronto / Once Upon a City

Once Upon a City: Allan Gardens’ rich history of revolution

From the founding of the National Council of Women of Canada in 1893 to anti-Nazi riots of the ’60s to the G20 protests, Toronto’s Allan Gardens has been ground zero in the shaping of the city’s social fabric.

Beloved Canadian poet Milton Acorn recites poetry in Allan Gardens in July 1962 to protest a bylaw that prohibited speeches in all but three Toronto parks and led to much debate over freedom of expression.
View 10 photos

Toronto Star Archives

Beloved Canadian poet Milton Acorn recites poetry in Allan Gardens in July 1962 to protest a bylaw that prohibited speeches in all but three Toronto parks and led to much debate over freedom of expression.

Allan Gardens’ iconic glass-and-iron domed Palm House is a familiar landmark for Toronto residents and visitors alike, nurturing a permanent collection of exotic plants from distant climes inside its heritage walls. Yet the conservatory and its protected flora are only half the story of Allan Gardens. Designed by prolific city architect Robert McCallum and opened in 1910, the Palm House is the central pavilion of what is now a 16,000-square-foot conservatory, with five greenhouses added over half a century until the late 1950s.


The surrounding park, bounded by Carlton, Sherbourne, Gerrard and Jarvis streets, boasts some 300 trees, many perhaps as old as the pavilion, and today features a brand-new playground and two fenced off-leash areas for dogs. The gardens began in 1858 with the gift of a five-acre plot to the Toronto Horticultural Society from George William Allan, president of the society and 11th mayor of Toronto, recently retired after a two-year term ending in 1856. Allan then entered national politics, representing York at the Legislative Council of Upper Canada from 1858 until becoming one of Canada’s first senators following Confederation in 1867.


Guided by its motto, Beautify Toronto, the horticultural society built a rustic pavilion for its exhibitions that would also serve as a venue for evening concerts and social events. The Horticultural Gardens opened Sept. 11, 1860, with the Prince of Wales, later King Edward VII, planting a maple tree in front of the new pavilion using a silver spade; he opened Queen’s Park the same day, making them two of Toronto’s oldest parks.



In 1864, the city bought five additional acres from Allan for $11,500 and leased them to the horticultural society, which maintained stewardship of the expanded park on condition the conservatory be open to the public free of charge until 8 p.m., after which admission could be charged for private events.

“Shrieking ‘kill, kill, kill,’ a hate-filled, hysterical mob of 4,000 watched as eight suspected Nazis at Allan Gardens Sunday were beaten with fists, clubs and boots,” begins the Star’s top story from May 31, 1965.
Eddy Roworth/ Toronto Star Archives

“Shrieking ‘kill, kill, kill,’ a hate-filled, hysterical mob of 4,000 watched as eight suspected Nazis at Allan Gardens Sunday were beaten with fists, clubs and boots,” begins the Star’s top story from May 31, 1965.


In 1879, a glass Horticultural Pavilion replaced the original wooden structure, financed by the society with a $20,000 mortgage, where budding aesthete Oscar Wilde lectured in 1882, before writing his more famous literary works. Although the venue was popular, the horticultural society was unable to cover its debt with the revenues from evening programming, and sold the original plot and the pavilion to the city in 1888.


When George Allan died in 1901, the conservatory and grounds were renamed Allan Gardens in memory of his contributions. The following year, two things happened in the park: the Horticultural Pavilion burned, and the people’s poet of Allan’s ancestral Scotland was immortalized, the monument remaining to this day.


“Robert Burns had an unpleasant experience last night in the person of his statue now being erected in Allan Gardens,” the Toronto Daily Star reported on July 19, 1902. “Twice the scaffolding gave way, and the second time carried with it the pedestal and statue, to the dismay of a large crowd of spectators. However, neither pedestal nor statue were injured.”



Six weeks earlier, the news had been much worse. “Smoking ruins in Allan Gardens,” read a Star headline on June 6. “Splendid palms, some of them declared to be the finest in America, have been ruined, while the work of years is now withered and dying.”

The current Palm House was built in 1910 at a cost of $50,000, replacing the Horticultural Pavilion, which burned down in 1902.
Toronto Star Archives

The current Palm House was built in 1910 at a cost of $50,000, replacing the Horticultural Pavilion, which burned down in 1902.

With the recent opening of Massey Hall, the loss of a concert venue was scantly mourned, but the resurrection of a horticultural pavilion had the sustained support of several city officials, and the current Palm House was built at a cost of $50,000, following council’s rejection of two more costly proposals.


Outside the glass conservatory, another, civic garden was sprouting political tendrils.

Situated near the seats of provincial and municipal government, amidst industrial and various strata of residential neighbourhoods, the 10-acre park was a natural seedbed for ideals carried in by the city’s two-legged fauna, who began thronging the park to voice enthusiasm or outrage over social issues.



The Star was quick to reveal some rather blunt tools in the city’s garden shed. “Police smoke out meeting but crowd won’t disperse,” read the front-page headline on Aug. 16, 1933. “Charging mounted policemen, motorcycle exhausts belching oily fumes and scores of constables on foot put a stop to speech making, but failed to disperse thousands of persons in Allan Gardens last night, at a meeting announced by the Workers’ Ex-Servicemen’s League . . . to protest against treatment accorded war veterans.” Police intervened just as the rally began, enforcing a bylaw that prohibited speeches in all but three city parks. Thirty years later, the bylaw was revised, after it sparked much debate over freedom of expression, when challenged by a group of poets holding unauthorized readings in Allan Gardens.

The Horticultural Pavilion, shown here sometime in the 1890s, served as a venue for the Toronto Horticultural Society's exhibitions and also for evening concerts and social gatherings.
Toronto Public Library

The Horticultural Pavilion, shown here sometime in the 1890s, served as a venue for the Toronto Horticultural Society's exhibitions and also for evening concerts and social gatherings.



“First Milton Acorn, a 39-year-old former carpenter, started with the Song of Solomon,” the Star reported in July 1962, explaining, “the bylaw allows religious speakers.” Police scribbled in their notebooks as Acorn turned to his own material, proclaiming, “I shout love, love,” before addressing the back-row critics: “Listen, you money-plated b——. When I shout love, I mean your destruction.”

The Star observed that, ironically, “the poets couldn’t gather in their favourite position by the statue of Robert Burns because Frank Correnti, a religious speaker, got there first.”


Three years later, the free speech debate raged into a riot. “Shrieking ‘kill, kill, kill,’ a hate-filled, hysterical mob of 4,000 watched as eight suspected Nazis at Allan Gardens Sunday were beaten with fists, clubs and boots,” begins the Star’s top story from May 31, 1965. Angry citizens — and wary police — had gathered in anticipation of a scheduled Nazi Party rally. “Six of the victims were youths who happened to be wearing black jackets or shirts . . . They had come to Toronto looking for work,” the Star reported.


“It began like an avalanche, slowly . . . Someone yelled ‘they’re Nazis’ and the whole park came alive.” Allan Gardens remains a hotbed of political uprising, with demonstrations over homelessness, gender issues, abortion, environment and other concerns continuing to this day. In 2010, the first of the G20 protesters began their rally at the park; since 2013, the annual Dyke March has ended there in one of many colourful Toronto Pride celebrations. 

Children beat the sweltering heat at the Allan Gardens fountain on Aug. 26, 1948.
Toronto Star Archives
Children beat the sweltering heat at the Allan Gardens fountain on Aug. 26, 1948.


Back in 1893, in the shelter of the Horticultural Pavilion, 1,500 women shared a vision of equality with Lady Aberdeen, wife of the governor general, as she established the National Council of Women of Canada.

A glass ceiling was eventually broken in 2013, when a “century plant,” Agave americana, planted in the conservatory during the Second World War but dormant for 50 years, shot up suddenly, requiring a hole to be cut in the greenhouse roof so it could bring forth hundreds of tiny yellow blossoms.


“All these years, the succulent plant has been gathering energy to be marshalled into the buds, poetic in its one final flourish,” the Star wrote. According to Allan Gardens superintendent Curtis Evoy, the stalk would wither and die within six weeks. “But there is good news: offshoots, a new plant, is growing near the base.”


Radicals, you could call them.
Story idea?

Share your story suggestions at OnceUponACity@thestar.ca . To search more about this story or your story go to thestar.com/archives . To purchase or browse more photos go to starstore.ca, or visit us on Facebook at www.facebook.com/TorontoStarArchives or on Twitter: @StarHistoricPix.


Allan Gardens’ popular annual Christmas Flower Show opens the first Sunday in December and runs until mid January. Admission is free.


                                                  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~

Thanks to Peter Rowe for forwarding this - I somehow missed this article yesterday. My friend Sylvia and I have made annual visits to the conservatory a seasonal rite. The Christmas Flower Show is not to be missed!

Tuesday, 25 November 2014

when a black man shoots a white cop in self-defence ...

  he pays for the rest of his life ... (even in Canada)

I'm especially interested in this injustice, as I also left the United States in 1969, worked for Toronto Public Library for 6 1/2 years, and was published in the poetry anthology CROSSING LINES: POETS WHO CAME TO CANADA IN THE VIETNAM WAR ERA with Douglas Freeman.
- Chris

Family of ex-library worker convicted in Chicago shooting appeals decision to block him from coming home for Christmas

Douglas Gary Freeman says he should be allowed into Canada on compassionate grounds despite conviction for shooting Chicago cop 45 years ago.

Douglas Gary Freeman was sentenced then to 30 days in jail, two years’ probation and ordered to pay $250,000 to a charity that supports the families of police officers killed in the line of duty.
Once his time was served and his fine paid, he found he could not re-enter Canada. His family is appealing, arguing he should be allowed to rejoin them for Christmas.

Douglas Gary Freeman was sentenced then to 30 days in jail, two years’ probation and ordered to pay $250,000 to a charity that supports the families of police officers killed in the line of duty. Once his time was served and his fine paid, he found he could not re-enter Canada. His family is appealing, arguing he should be allowed to rejoin them for Christmas.

The family of Douglas Gary Freeman was scheduled to be in a Toronto hearing room on Tuesday, arguing that the former Toronto librarian’s assistant should be allowed to come home immediately to spend Christmas with his family.

Freeman, 65, has been barred from Canada since he pleaded guilty in February 2008 to one count of aggravated battery for a shooting incident 45 years ago, when he said he was defending himself from a Chicago police officer in a racially charged attack.
“I want to come home to my family,” Freeman, a grandfather, said via email from Washington. “We want to have a family Christmas this year.”

Freeman’s lawyer Barbara Jackman has argued that he should be allowed into Canada immediately on humanitarian and compassionate (H&C) grounds to be with his family in the GTA.
Freeman said via email that the government has told his family that if he was granted a temporary residence permit (TRP) to be with his family, he would never leave.

“H&C factors are that my wife and children, i.e., my whole family is in Canada,” Freeman said via email. “But the government says I cannot be granted a TRP because my whole family is in Canada and if they granted me a TRP, I would never leave.”
“So because H&C factors exist, I can’t have a TRP. Is that nuts?”

Freeman changed his name and fled to Canada after he wounded officer Terrence Knox with three gunshots in 1969.
Knox, who suffered permanent injuries to an arm, died in 2011 at age 63.
Freeman said he shot Knox after Knox struck him from behind, pointed a loaded gun to his head, and shouted a racial slur while threatening to blow his head off.

Freeman said he has not carried a gun since leaving Chicago. He avoided any brushes with the law as he settled into life in Canada, marrying and raising four children while working at the Toronto Reference Library.
When his story leaked, he was extradited to the U.S. and pleaded guilty to one count of aggravated battery.
He was sentenced then to 30 days in jail, two years’ probation and ordered to pay $250,000 to a charity that supports the families of police officers killed in the line of duty.
Once his time was served and his fine paid, he found he could not re-enter Canada.

Federal Court Justice Anne Mactavish ruled in October 2013 that the federal government acted in bad faith in barring Freeman from Canada after labelling him a terrorist and linking him to the now-defunct Black Panther party.
Federal officials had argued that top-secret evidence not shown to him tied him to the Black Panthers.
“I have determined that Mr. Freeman was unfairly treated in this process in several respects,” Mactavish wrote. The judge dismissed claims he was a security threat. “No meaningful reasons were provided to explain the rationale for finding Mr. Freeman to be inadmissible to Canada on security grounds.”


Wednesday, 23 October 2013

A stepping stone towards honouring Ray Souster



Stairs first step in honouring Toronto poet Raymond Souster: Fiorito

A set of stairs leading down into a west-end parkette may soon bear the name of poet Raymond Souster.

   
Raymond Souster walks in 1984 along the Humber River, not far from a parkette where the proposed plaque honouring him would be installed.
Toronto Star file photo

Raymond Souster walks in 1984 along the Humber River, not far from a parkette where the proposed plaque honouring him would be installed.





There is a scruffy patch of grass, with a few trees, some swings and a sandbox, south of Bloor and a little west of Windermere. It is officially known as the Willard Gardens Parkette, but in the vernacular of the neighbourhood, it is known as Lollipop Park.
Lollipop, because it is a sort of bubble-shape; also, obviously, because kids play there.
Leading down into the park is a set of stairs with a railing. Toronto poet Raymond Souster used those stairs, and people say he liked them.
You remember Raymond Souster, who died last year. If you do not, then you do not know this city. Souster was to Toronto as Frank O’Hara was to New York. He was the city poet, personified.
And if you happen to find Ray’s book, Ten Elephants on Yonge Street — or any one of the 50 or 60 books he wrote — you should buy it.
Now back to the park:

There was a planning meeting the other night, because the local councillor has found some money to spruce up the park. And so a dozen, maybe 20 people came to the meeting; young parents, mostly.
I’ve been to such meetings before; organizing them is how I used to make a living. The talk was familiar, about swings and slides and monkey bars, and the development of children through play, and young parents are keen about these things and —

Disclaimer.
I have reached the age when the cuteness of children holds no appeal. But I am also a realist: all children — save the ones who end up in jail — tend to grow up and become taxpayers, and I have a hunch I will need health care in the future, so I do not begrudge them their monkey bars now.
The park will likely be ready next summer. And everyone was happy.

Enter George Elliott Clarke. He is the reigning poet laureate of this city, and just before the meeting wrapped, he addressed the parents with an idea.
An idea about Raymond Souster.
He began by reciting the poet’s accomplishments: here a Governor-General’s Award, there an Order of Canada; founding member of the League of Canadian Poets; influential publisher; and so on.
He also read “Flight of the Rollercoaster,” a Souster poem which Clarke said he first discovered at the age of 16. His delivery was enthusiastic, equal parts poetry slam and roller-coaster swoops.

The parents smiled.
OK, so what does this have to do with a pint-sized parkette and a sweeping set of stairs?
Souster grew up nearby, and Clarke thinks the stairs should be named in his honour, and there also ought to be a plaque, perhaps with one of Ray’s poems.

There is not a parent in the world who would deny a child a snippet of poetry. The councillor said the Parks Department was on side, and that the city was also on side, and it would be a nice thing.

All agreed, then.
One parent, in a burst of sunny enthusiasm, asked if the plaque could be shaped like a lollipop.
No. Ray Souster was not Robert Munsch, and anyway I think there is a city protocol for such signs.
Afterwards I asked Clarke, in his capacity as laureate, if that was going to be the end of it for Souster, a little plaque in a park near a set of stairs he used.

Clarke said no. He wants another, perhaps grander and certainly more central marker.
Here’s a thought: Ray worked all his life for the bank at the corner of King and Bay, where there is a bare and expansive square that would be enhanced by a bust or statue.
Let’s take those steps, too.

Joe Fiorito appears Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Email: jfiorito@thestar.ca

Sunday, 7 April 2013

drone strike! videogame killers /come of age

drone strike!
videogame killers
come of age


News / World

A secret deal on drones, sealed in blood

The CIA has conducted hundreds of drone strikes in Pakistan that have killed thousands of people, Pakistanis and Arabs, militants and civilians alike.
 
 
 
In this Jan. 31, 2010 file photo, an unmanned U.S. Predator drone flies over Kandahar Air Field, southern Afghanistan.
Kirsty Wigglesworth / AP
In this Jan. 31, 2010 file photo, an unmanned U.S. Predator drone flies over Kandahar Air Field, southern Afghanistan.
  
Nek Muhammad knew he was being followed.
On a hot day in June 2004, the Pashtun tribesman was lounging inside a mud compound in South Waziristan, speaking by satellite phone to one of the many reporters who regularly interviewed him on how he had fought and humbled Pakistan’s army in the country’s western mountains. He asked one of his followers about the strange, metallic bird hovering above him.
Less than 24 hours later, a missile tore through the compound, severing Muhammad’s left leg and killing him and several others, including two boys, ages 10 and 16. A Pakistani military spokesman was quick to claim responsibility for the attack, saying that Pakistani forces had fired at the compound.

That was a lie.

Muhammad and his followers had been killed by the CIA, the first time it had deployed a Predator drone in Pakistan to carry out a “targeted killing.” The target was not a top operative of Al Qaeda, but a Pakistani ally of the Taliban who led a tribal rebellion and was marked by Pakistan as an enemy of the state.

In a secret deal, the CIA had agreed to kill him in exchange for access to airspace it had long sought so it could use drones to hunt down its own enemies.

That back-room bargain, described in detail for the first time in interviews with more than a dozen officials in Pakistan and the United States, is critical to understanding the origins of a covert drone war that began under the Bush administration, was embraced and expanded by President Barack Obama, and is now the subject of fierce debate.

The deal, a month after a blistering internal report about abuses in the CIA’s network of secret prisons, paved the way for the CIA to change its focus from capturing terrorists to killing them, and helped transform an agency that began as a cold war espionage service into a paramilitary organization.

The CIA has since conducted hundreds of drone strikes in Pakistan that have killed thousands of people, Pakistanis and Arabs, militants and civilians alike. While it was not the first country where the United States used drones, it became the laboratory for the targeted killing operations that have come to define a new American way of fighting, blurring the line between soldiers and spies and short-circuiting the normal mechanisms by which the United States as a nation goes to war.

Neither American nor Pakistani officials have ever publicly acknowledged what really happened to Muhammad – details of the strike that killed him, along with those of other secret strikes, are still hidden in classified government databases. But in recent months, calls for transparency from members of Congress and critics on both the right and left have put pressure on Obama and his new CIA director, John O. Brennan, to offer a fuller explanation of the goals and operation of the drone program, and of the agency’s role.

Brennan, who began his career at the CIA and over the past four years oversaw an escalation of drone strikes from his office at the White House, has signalled that he hopes to return the agency to its traditional role of intelligence collection and analysis. But with a generation of CIA officers now fully engaged in a new mission, it is an effort that could take years.
Today, even some of the people who were present at the creation of the drone program think the agency should have long given up targeted killings.

Ross Newland, who was a senior official at the CIA’s headquarters in Langley, Va., when the agency was given the authority to kill Al Qaeda operatives, says he thinks that the agency had grown too comfortable with remote-control killing, and that drones have turned the CIA into the villain in countries like Pakistan, where it should be nurturing relationships in order to gather intelligence.
As he puts it, “This is just not an intelligence mission.”

FROM CAR THIEF TO MILITANT

By 2004, Muhammad had become the undisputed star of the tribal areas, the fierce mountain lands populated by the Wazirs, Mehsuds and other Pashtun tribes who for decades had lived independent of the writ of the central government in Islamabad. A brash member of the Wazir tribe, Muhammad had raised an army to fight government troops and had forced the government into negotiations. He saw no cause for loyalty to the Directorate of Inter-Services Intelligence, the Pakistani military spy service that had given an earlier generation of Pashtuns support during the war against the Soviets.

Many Pakistanis in the tribal areas viewed with disdain the alliance that President Pervez Musharraf had forged with the United States after the Sept. 11, 2001, attacks. They regarded the Pakistani military that had entered the tribal areas as no different from the Americans – who they believed had begun a war of aggression in Afghanistan, just as the Soviets had years earlier.

Born near Wana, the bustling market hub of South Waziristan, Muhammad spent his adolescent years as a petty car thief and shopkeeper in the city’s bazaar. He found his calling in 1993, around the age of 18, when he was recruited to fight with the Taliban in Afghanistan, and rose quickly through the group’s military hierarchy. He cut a striking figure on the battlefield with his long face and flowing jet black hair.

When the Americans invaded Afghanistan in 2001, he seized an opportunity to host the Arab and Chechen fighters from Al Qaeda who crossed into Pakistan to escape the American bombing.
For Muhammad, it was partly a way to make money, but he also saw another use for the arriving fighters. With their help, over the next two years he launched a string of attacks on Pakistani military installations and on American firebases in Afghanistan.

CIA officers in Islamabad urged Pakistani spies to lean on the Waziri tribesman to hand over the foreign fighters, but under Pashtun tribal customs that would be treachery. Reluctantly, Musharraf ordered his troops into the forbidding mountains to deliver rough justice to Muhammad and his fighters, hoping the operation might put a stop to the attacks on Pakistani soil, including two attempts on his life in December 2003.

But it was only the beginning. In March 2004, Pakistani helicopter gunships and artillery pounded Wana and its surrounding villages. Government troops shelled pickup trucks that were carrying civilians away from the fighting and destroyed the compounds of tribesmen suspected of harboring foreign fighters. The Pakistani commander declared the operation an unqualified success, but for Islamabad, it had not been worth the cost in casualties.

A ceasefire was negotiated in April during a hastily arranged meeting in South Waziristan, during which a senior Pakistani commander hung a garland of bright flowers around Muhammad’s neck. The two men sat together and sipped tea as photographers and television cameras recorded the event.

Both sides spoke of peace, but there was little doubt who was negotiating from strength. Muhammad would later brag that the government had agreed to meet inside a religious madrasa rather than in a public location where tribal meetings are traditionally held. “I did not go to them; they came to my place,” he said. “That should make it clear who surrendered to whom.”

The peace arrangement propelled Muhammad to new fame, and the truce was soon exposed as a sham. He resumed attacks against Pakistani troops, and Musharraf ordered his army back on the offensive in South Waziristan.

Pakistani officials had, for several years, balked at the idea of allowing armed CIA Predators to roam their skies. They considered drone flights a violation of sovereignty, and worried that they would invite further criticism of Musharraf as being Washington’s lackey. But Muhammad’s rise to power forced them to reconsider.

The CIA had been monitoring the rise of Muhammad but officials considered him to be more Pakistan’s problem than America’s. In Washington, officials were watching with growing alarm the gathering of Al Qaeda operatives in the tribal areas, and George J. Tenet, the CIA director, authorized officers in the agency’s Islamabad station to push Pakistani officials to allow armed drones. Negotiations were handled primarily by the Islamabad station.

As the battles raged in South Waziristan, the station chief in Islamabad paid a visit to Gen. Ehsan ul Haq, the ISI chief, and made an offer: If the CIA killed Muhammad, would the ISI allow regular armed drone flights over the tribal areas?

In secret negotiations, the terms of the bargain were set. Pakistani intelligence officials insisted that they be allowed to approve each drone strike, giving them tight control over the list of targets. And, they insisted that drones fly only in narrow parts of the tribal areas – ensuring that they would not venture where Islamabad did not want the Americans going: Pakistan’s nuclear facilities, and the mountain camps where Kashmiri militants were trained for attacks in India.

The ISI and the CIA agreed that all drone flights in Pakistan would operate under the CIA’s covert action authority – meaning that the United States would never acknowledge the missile strikes and that Pakistan would either take credit for the individual killings or remain silent.

Musharraf did not think that it would be difficult to keep up the ruse. As he told one CIA officer: “In Pakistan, things fall out of the sky all the time.”

A NEW DIRECTION

As the negotiations were taking place, the CIA’s inspector general, John L. Helgerson, had just finished a searing report about the abuse of detainees in the CIA’s secret prisons. The report kicked out the foundation upon which the CIA detention and interrogation program had rested. It was perhaps the single most important reason for the CIA’s shift from capturing to killing terrorism suspects.

The greatest impact of Helgerson’s report was felt at the CIA’s Counterterrorism Center, or CTC, which was at the vanguard of the agency’s global antiterrorism operation. The centre had focused on capturing Al Qaeda operatives; questioning them in CIA jails or outsourcing interrogations to the spy services of Pakistan, Jordan, Egypt and other nations; and then using the information to hunt more terrorism suspects.

Helgerson raised questions about whether CIA officers might face criminal prosecution for the interrogations carried out in the secret prisons, and he suggested that interrogation methods like waterboarding, sleep deprivation and the exploiting of the phobias of prisoners – like confining them in a small box with live bugs – violated the United Nations Convention Against Torture.

“The agency faces potentially serious long-term political and legal challenges as a result of the CTC detention and interrogation program,” the report concluded, given the brutality of the interrogation techniques and the “inability of the U.S. government to decide what it will ultimately do with the terrorists detained by the agency.”

The report was the beginning of the end for the program. The prisons would stay open for several more years, and new detainees were occasionally picked up and taken to secret sites, but at Langley, senior CIA officers began looking for an endgame to the prison program. One CIA operative told Helgerson’s team that officers from the agency might one day wind up on a “wanted list” and be tried for war crimes in an international court.

The ground had shifted, and counterterrorism officials began to rethink the strategy for the secret war. Armed drones, and targeted killings in general, offered a new direction. Killing by remote control was the antithesis of the dirty, intimate work of interrogation. Targeted killings were cheered by Republicans and Democrats alike, and using drones flown by pilots who were stationed thousands of miles away made the whole strategy seem risk-free.

Before long the CIA would go from being the long-term jailer of America’s enemies to a military organization that erased them.
Not long before, the agency had been deeply ambivalent about drone warfare.
The Predator had been considered a blunt and unsophisticated killing tool, and many at the CIA were glad that the agency had gotten out of the assassination business long ago. Three years before Muhammad’s death, and one year before the CIA carried out its first targeted killing outside a war zone – in Yemen in 2002 – a debate raged over the legality and morality of using drones to kill suspected terrorists.

A new generation of CIA officers had ascended to leadership positions, having joined the agency after the 1975 congressional committee led by Sen. Frank Church, D-Idaho, which revealed extensive CIA plots to kill foreign leaders, and President Gerald Ford’s subsequent ban on assassinations. The rise to power of this post-Church generation had a direct impact on the type of clandestine operations the CIA chose to conduct.

The debate pitted a group of senior officers at the Counterterrorism Center against James L. Pavitt, the head of the CIA’s clandestine service, and others who worried about the repercussions of the agency’s getting back into assassinations. Tenet told the 9/11 commission that he was not sure that a spy agency should be flying armed drones.

John E. McLaughlin, then the CIA’s deputy director, who the 9/11 commission reported had raised concerns about the CIA’s being in charge of the Predator, said: ‘‘You can’t underestimate the cultural change that comes with gaining lethal authority.
“When people say to me, ‘It’s not a big deal,”’ he said, ‘‘I say to them, ‘Have you ever killed anyone?’

“It is a big deal. You start thinking about things differently,” he added. But after the Sept. 11 attacks, these concerns about the use of the CIA to kill were quickly swept aside.

THE ACCOUNT AT THE TIME

After Muhammad was killed, his dirt grave in South Waziristan became a site of pilgrimage. A Pakistani journalist, Zahid Hussain, visited it days after the drone strike and saw a makeshift sign displayed on the grave: “He lived and died like a true Pashtun.”

Maj. Gen. Shaukat Sultan, Pakistan’s top military spokesman, told reporters at the time that “Al Qaeda facilitator” Nek Muhammad and four other “militants” had been killed in a rocket attack by Pakistani troops.

Any suggestion that Muhammad was killed by the Americans, or with American assistance, he said, was “absolutely absurd.”

This article is adapted from “The Way of the Knife: The CIA, a Secret Army, and a War at the Ends of the Earth,” to be published by Penguin Press on Tuesday.

Friday, 4 January 2013

article on Milton Acorn in Toronto Star (thanks, Joe!)


Fiorito: Milton Acorn’s poems find fresh audiences with new book

Published on Friday January 04, 2013

Toronto Star file photo Milton Acorn was a Canadian poet, writer, and playwright. The often controversial figure won the Canadian Poets Award in 1970. A poetry award in his honour was established in 1987, a year after his death.
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By Joe Fiorito City Columnist
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There is a new Milton on the shelves; it was launched recently at the Imperial, a modest bar tucked away in the corner at Dundas and Yonge.

But when I say Milton, I do not mean the one going on about his blindness. I mean Milton with the cigar and the growl, the chronic nosebleeds and the red worker politics; your Island poet, your people’s poet.

Acorn, Milton.
The tough nut.

As for the Imperial, it is where the downtown guys bring their deep thirst late at night, and where Ryerson kids mourn or toast their future.

Now and then, you get poets.

The evening was lovely and chaotic. There was singing. There were skits, one of which involved an eyeball flung across the room.

There was a reading by the actor David Fox, who looks as unlike Milton as anyone can be, but he played Acorn on stage long ago, and he drew on that when he read.
Oh, how he read.
I mean that half the pub held students drinking deeply, and thinking less deeply, and they were also — Milton would have approved — looking for a little tenderness with the help of beer. They were rowdy. They didn’t care.
Fox made them care.
That’s art.

I had one or two coffee-house poetry flashbacks. I saw an old guy sleeping on a bench during the folk songs; a long time ago he would have been stoned. I think this guy was just old, cold and tired.

And then four bicycle cops marched in, one after another; bright yellow jackets, guns on their hips. They snaked through the room in single file, a kind of bike cop conga line. Who knows what they were looking for?
Maybe Milton.

I should say I met him once. He was a stalwart in the Canadian Liberation Movement when I was a new recruit. This was years ago, in Thunder Bay, and he was passing through.
 
The political philosophy of the CLM was so rigid it hurt. Our tactics included a naïve Canadian nationalism, to which I still cling.

I recall the sticker we used to slap on cars with American plates: “Yankee Go Home. We Don’t Like You The Way You Are.” This was the time of the Vietnam War. I slapped a few stickers on cars myself.
I blush to confess it now.

Anyway, Milton came to my place with some other cadres. He fell instantly for the girl I was seeing, and he saw my chessboard and he thought he would show off, and show me up at the same time.
I thrashed him.
Then I offered him some of my poems. He read them wordlessly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and growling all the while.
I was, in those days, writing sharp little imagist poems. He said nothing, and then he growled that the poems sounded like Black Mountain stuff — American, a CLM sin — and therefore no good.
I now see my mistake.
I should have shown him the poems first, and then beat him at chess. Not that it mattered. He didn’t stand a chance with my girl.

The book is called In A Springtime Instant. It is published by Mosaic Press, and it was edited by James Deahl, himself a poet to contend with.

Say what you will about Acorn — and you can always say he needed a bath — he was Whitmanesque. I bet that would have bugged him. Old Walt was American.
No matter.

Old Milt should be read.
 
Joe Fiorito appears Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Email: jfiorito@thestar.ca.

Monday, 31 December 2012

Ray Souster (and Statue?) in Joe Fiorito's Toronto Star column



Fiorito: Warm thoughts to some who have warmed this space

Published on Monday December 31, 2012

RENE JOHNSTON/TORONTO STAR FILE PHOTO 
  Poet, publisher, and former banker Raymond Souster is shown at the Old Mill Bridge on the Humber River in Lambton Park in October 2000. Souster died earlier this year.
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By Joe Fiorito City Columnist
Let us offer best wishes for the year ahead to some of the people who have appeared in this space over the past 12 months.

Happy New Year to my two favourite priests, Father Hernan Astudillo of the Church of San Lorenzo, and to Father Roberto Ubertino, of St. John The Compassionate Mission.
Father Hernan and his parish have raised thousands of dollars in aid and supplies, including ambulances and buses, for those who have been harmed by earthquakes in Central America.
This year, among other things, the padre worked as a field hand in the Niagara region, in order to better understand the migrant workers for whom he says mass.

Father Roberto? He runs the mission on Broadview north of Queen. You may also know the St. John’s Bakery, which makes some of the best sourdough bread in the city; more importantly, it employs a dozen or so people who would otherwise be on welfare or collecting benefits; instead, they are paying taxes.
I am not, by nature, a religious guy, but these two are an example of faith through good works.
They should meet.
I’ll see what I can do.

I now want to wish a happy new year to Nick Lounsbury, who helped to rescue a man who jumped in front of a subway train last spring.
I send best wishes to Russ Loader of Oshawa, who discovered that there was so much electrical current coursing under the floors of his apartment that he could power a light bulb, simply by touching bare wires to the floor. No one but me, and Dr. Magda Havas of Trent University, seems to think this is a serious problem. Best of the season to you, too, Dr. Havas.

Tashi delek and happy New Year to Pema Choden, who fed me the best momos I have ever eaten.

Now here is a Raymond Souster story. The poet died earlier this year. The last time I saw him, he gave me an armload of his books. I opened one of them recently. It was an orphan; the pages were blank. If I had any nerve at all, I would hand-write some of my own poems between the covers.
I don’t have that kind of nerve.
I wonder why the Canadian Imperial Bank of Commerce does not erect a statue of the banker-poet in the courtyard in front of their head office downtown.

Happy New Year to John West, who dominates the ping-pong tables at the Wellesley Community Centre; also to his happy foil, the recreationist Lucky Boothe.
We are the ones who are lucky.

Nathaniel Banton? We love that man around here. We also send our love to Donald and Alane Simmonds, who mourn the loss of their son Kevin.

Greetings, and thanks, to the person at Toronto Community Housing who arranged for the cover over the canopy at the entrance to 200 Wellesley.

Best wishes to Frank DiGenova, of Butcher By Nature on Annette St. Frank is back in business after the fire. Happy thoughts to my other favourite butcher, Peter Sanagan, of Sanagan’s Meat Locker in Kensington Market, who recently expanded.
These two should also meet.

And now to Bob Richardson and Bertie Nakogee. Bertie was a First Nations volunteer who died in Toronto before he could serve overseas in the First World War. He was buried in an unmarked grave. Bob secured him a tombstone.
Thanks Bob.
And thanks, Bertie.

But my kindest thoughts are for you, dear reader, for following me around town the past 12 months.
Happy New Year, one and all!
Joe Fiorito appears Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Email: jfiorito@thestar.ca

Friday, 9 November 2012

Mac Pap Memorial to vets of Spanish Civil War




Fiorito: The Mac-Paps: Lest we forget

Published on Friday November 09, 2012
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By Joe Fiorito City Columnist
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Many years ago, at the end of a long and boozy evening, my father told me that he’d tried to enlist in the Mackenzie-Papineau Battalion. He was in his teens then; he wanted to fight in the Spanish Civil War.

When I asked why, he told me he was bored, there was no work at home and — he was dark, my old man — he said that he wanted to die.
They sent him home.
Had he gone to Spain, he surely would have gotten his wish, and I would not be writing this.

Now, the disclosures:
I used to work for CBC Radio; my beloved still does; the CBC’s acclaimed radio documentary maker, Steve Wadhams, is a friend; and here is how it all comes together:
There was an article in this newspaper a while back about Jules Paivio, the last living survivor of the Mac-Paps. Wadhams played a hunch — he asked the CBC archivist if Paivio had ever been interviewed.

Yes, there was a long interview on tape, recorded by journalist Mac Reynolds in 1964. Wadhams listened to the interview avidly. But he sat bolt upright when the archivist said, “You know there are more interviews.”

Turns out there were 150 hours of interviews. Reynolds had traveled the country in 1964 and 1965, looking for Mac-Pap vets, finding some 50 of them, and recording as many as he could.
No one but the archivist knew the material was there, or had paid it any mind, until that moment.
Wadhams quickly unearthed a letter from Reynolds to the legendary producer and CBC executive Robert Weaver, asking about airtime.

But there was no reply on file, nor any evidence that the material had ever aired. In other words, these were voices that had never been heard before. Wadhams found himself sitting on a motherlode of historical gold that had been hiding in plain sight.

He did some research and learned that Reynolds had been, um, a fellow-traveller who had gone to England to join in the fight, but somehow had never made it to Spain. “I inferred from this that he had a motive for doing these recordings.”
Of course, the only motive you really need, in oral history, is the truth as it is told by witnesses to history.

Remembrance Day was looming. The Mac-Paps are not officially remembered on Nov. 11.
Wadhams got to work.
He started to edit — luckily, the interviews had been shot-listed — and as he worked, he read as much as he could about the Mac-Paps.

They were much more than a bunch of unemployed rabble-rousers and commie sympathizers in search of adventure. They were men who wanted to stop fascism in its tracks.
They came from all across Canada; some had already run from totalitarianism; plenty of them had been in labour camps. They got shot up, some of them, before they crossed the Pyrenees.
The war itself was a slaughter: Guernica, phosphorous bombs, soldiers on horseback fighting Hitler’s warplanes; Bethune and mobile blood transfusions.

And remember this: when the men who survived came home, they were ignored.
Wadhams played me a piece of tape the other day. I listened to a vet recalling what happened when a submarine torpedoed the ship he was on; the last man who drowned — poor fellow, clinging to the mast in terror as the ship went under — was from the Lakehead, my home town.
Maybe he knew my old man.

The documentary airs in two parts, on CBC Radio 1: The first hour of “The Spanish Crucible” will be broadcast Friday, on “Living Out Loud,” at 1 p.m.
It will be repeated on Remembrance Day at 8 p.m. Part Two airs on Nov. 16, and will be repeated on the 18th.

A final disclosure: the voice of the Star’s reporter, Greg Clark? That, proudly, is me.
Joe Fiorito appears Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Email: jfiorito@thestar.ca


National Monument to the



Nigel G. Spencer has left a new comment on your post "Mac Pap Memorial to vets of Spanish Civil War":

Thanks for this! In return, here is an excerpt from my acceptance speech at the GGs, 2012:
Les romans dans cette série célèbrent le courage, l'empathie et l'imagination de personnages réels et fictifs confondus qui luttent pour préserver ce qu'il y a de mieux dans notre humanité et pour le cultiver. Dans cet esprit je vous rappele que cette année nous fêtons le centenaire de la naissance de Raoul Wallenberg...mais malheuresuement, fidèle à la tradition, nous ne fêtons pas le soixante-quinzième du Batallion Mackenzie-Papineau, ces bénévoles non-reconnus, même diffamés pour leur lutte anti-fasciste pendant la Guerre civile d'Espagne.

In a year marked by anniversaries, we celebrate the 100th birthday of Raoul Wallenberg, but we have not honoured the 75th anniversary of the MacPaps, Canada's volunteers in the opening battle against fascism.

All honour to them for embodying what is best in the Canadian character.
Thank you.



Posted by Nigel G. Spencer to Riffs & Ripples from ZenRiver Gardens at 8 May 2013 17:08


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The 14 winners of the Governor General’s Literary Awards were announced recently by the Canada Council for the Arts.
These awards are given in both English and French in seven categories: fiction, poetry, drama, non‑fiction, children’s literature (text and illustration) and translation.
In the highlights from this year’s announcement is translator Nigel Spencer's third win, each time for the translation of a book by Marie-Claire Blais.
“Everyone involved in the creation of a book—including writers, illustrators, translators and publishers—has a story to tell,” said His Excellency the Right Honourable David Johnston, Governor General of Canada. “The Governor General’s Literary Awards is not only a chance to honour our very best books, but it is also a chance to pay tribute to Canadians who are rising stars in the world of literature. I congratulate all the winners who have worked hard to add their tale to our collective memories.”
2012 Winners in Translation
Nigel Spencer, Montréal, Mai at the Predators’ Ball (House of Anansi Press; distributed by HarperCollins Canada)
English translation of Mai au bal des prédateurs by Marie-Claire Blais (Les Éditions du Boréal). What Nigel Spencer has achieved with the translation of Marie Claire Blais’s Mai au bal des prédateurs is nothing short of brilliance. He has met the formidable challenge of conveying in English the complexity and richness of this narrative with a mastery that is stunning in its range of colour and tone.
Alain Roy, Montréal, Glenn Gould (Éditions du Boréal; distributed by Diffusion Dimedia)
French translation of Glenn Gould by Mark Kingwell (Penguin Group Canada). It took courage and endurance to tackle this demanding work. The translator, Alain Roy, has consistently shown concern for concision and precision without ever sacrificing the subtleties of the contents. This masterful translation of Glenn Gould is obviously grounded in extensive research, making it a wonderfully lucid read.