Sunday, May 29, 2011

Commentary on arrest of Ratko Mladic.

This is something for the soul. A bit of filthy old human rights law commentary by one of my greatest heros. Geoffrey Robertson. I recently acquired his biography, from a random box of books outside a random house in my hometown when I was out walking with my parents. Isn't that just delightful!? 


Anyway, this is a good read. Enjoy! 


Geoffrey Robertson: Mistakes the Mladic trial needs to avoid- The Independent May 28 2011


The capture of Ratko Mladic is a signal moment in the delivery of the Nuremberg legacy that political and military leaders must eventually pay for their crimes against humanity.
He could – and should – have been taken into custody between 1996 and his disappearance in 2002, but diplomats then did not trust international justice: "The capture of Karadzic and Mladic," said a Nato spokesman, "is not worth the blood of one Nato soldier". Today, with Karadzic on trial, General Gotovina (Croatia's fugitive general) convicted, the verdict on Charles Taylor imminent and Colonel Gaddafi under indictment, there is more confidence that Nemesis will strike those who mass murder their own – and other – people.
While the Mladic trial will be an opportunity to see justice done, it must be seen to be done rather better than it was in the case of Slobodan Milosevic, who died before he could present any defence to a prosecution case that had lasted an intolerable three years. The expense and delay in The Hague contrasts starkly with justice at Nuremberg, where a convincing verdict on 23 Nazi leaders was rendered within 12 months. There are greater obligations now to disclose evidence and afford time, facilities and appeal-rights for defendants, but there is a problem with prosecutors and judges who think they have a duty to write history rather than to adjudicate specific allegations. They seriously overload their indictments – Milosevic, for example, was charged with responsibility for three separate wars spanning 10 years, when he could have been convicted simply and expeditiously for the ethnic cleansing of Kosovo.
The Mladic indictment charges genocide (difficult to prove and open to endless technical legal arguments) and numerous war crimes throughout the Balkan conflict. It should be replaced by just one charge, the crime against humanity constituted by his command responsibility for ordering the worst war crime since the Japanese death marches of POWs at the end of the Second World War, namely the slaughter of more than 7,000 prisoners of war – the Muslim men and boys killed at Srebrenica.
Limiting the trial in this way will enable some justice to be done before the inevitable claims of illness, old age and unfitness to stand trial. These are already being voiced by his lawyers in Belgrade, but the EU must insist that they be decided only in The Hague, after independent and carefully scrutinised medical examination. We have had too many international criminals escape justice for bogus medical reasons – remember Pinochet waving his stick happily after he landed in Chile, courtesy of Jack Straw's mistaken assessment that he was unfit to stand trial? Remember the convenient escape several years ago of Megrahi, the Lockerbie bomber, when a credulous Scottish justice minister was led to believe by doctors that he would die within three months?
Focus on this war crime will discomfort those who might have prevented it – especially the UN which refused to authorise the air strikes that would have stopped Mladic's advance, and the Dutch government which insisted on vetoing them to protect its cowardly battalion which was meant to be protecting the town but which immediately surrendered to Mladic and handed over to him the thousands of Muslims who had sought refuge in the UN compound. The moral nadir of UN/Nato "peacekeeping" where there is no peace to keep is the photograph of Mladic blowing his cigar smoke in the face of the spineless Dutch colonel while in the background those his battalion should have protected were taken off to the killing fields.
Nothing should detract from Mladic's command responsibility and he must not be indulged by a court which bent over backwards to help Milosevic at a time when international justice was under attack – especially from the Bush regime, which in a fit of puerility approved the "Bomb The Hague" Bill allowing the US president to use force to free any American under indictment there. If Mladic insists on defending himself, and then seeks to disrupt proceedings, he should have a capable team of lawyers imposed upon him, whether he likes it or not.
As to Serbia, it has some more atoning to do before EU membership can be assured. Karl Jaspers pointed out that the German people did not bear collective criminal guilt for Hitler, but they did bear collective political responsibility. So it remains the Serbian government's duty not only to send Mladic quickly to The Hague but to investigate and prosecute those who have harboured him. It has a particular duty, wrongly dodged by Hague prosecutors, to clean out the Serb orthodox church, whose priests blessed the death squads at Srebrenica. Without their blessing, I believe that some soldiers would have disobeyed their orders to shoot defenceless, hog-tied, men and boys. It is widely known that the church has harboured Hague fugitives in its monasteries and has been deeply implicit with the murderous aspects of Serb nationalism.
Some of Mladic's victims are upset that he has been free for 16 years, but his life on the run has been increasingly miserable. They should be grateful that the Serb police captured him alive instead of executing him summarily as the US did with Bin Laden. He will now appear as a reduced and demystified figure in The Hague dock – an inhumane serial killer rather than a hero. They should remember and take heart from the fact that the wheels of international justice grind slowly but they grind exceedingly small.
Geoffrey Robertson QC is author of 'Crimes against Humanity: The Struggle for Global Justice' (Penguin) and a former UN war crimes judge

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Something a little bit special.


Something Special.

I stumbled up the stairs, hard and concrete and smashed glass to the side
Ran my fingers through his hair, like I did to a boy I used to love
Stench of alcohol and vomit on our lips
Sheets unwashed and and beds unmade, it isn't even cheap love. It's completely free.

My head is empty and light as my eyes undress him
There is nothingness seeping in all around 
as he grabs me round the waist and pulls me close
and pulls the clock out of the wall by the plug.

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Failure.


I hate failing. I hate feeling like I have failed. Like I have royally fucked up. Like Everyone is going to be resentful, or laugh at me or just be plain mean about it. I want to just fade into the distance and pretend I am not really here. Mistakes happen, but I usually don't make them and when I do, I don't easily forgive myself. 

Sunday, May 22, 2011

Sunday


I woke up this morning and despite being significantly behind in my uni work and life in general, I had to just take a moment to savour the fact that it was Sunday, and there is something just a little bit different about that day. It's a little bit slower, a little bit stranger, a little bit happier. It doesn't matter what is happening this week, because I know I don't need to deal with it until tomorrow. People are doing things they like doing rather than things they have to do. The sun seems to shine just a little bit brighter, and the garden outside of my window looks a little bit more like wonderland than it usually does. I wish Sunday morning could last forever. 

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Food Porn


Are they not just absolutely adorable!?

It's little things like this that make you want to get up in the morning. 

Sunday, May 15, 2011

glorified pain.


That's what winning is you know. Glorifying pain. Embracing the ache of your muscles as they contract with hatred for what you have done to them. Embracing the pain in your legs, the heaviness you think will never go away, each step a painful reminder of what has been and what has to come. Feeling the blood drip solidly down your face and your knees and tasting its warmth. Feeling the knife wound like pangs of achievement that only a winner can feel. 

It's the kind of pain that makes you tip your head back in triumph, grit your teeth together to take your mind of the deplorable state of your body, and think... I fucking did it. 

Thursday, May 12, 2011

Quiz in my pants.


Who would have thought that right across the way, there is a little place known affectionately as "The TC". 

On Wednesday nights they do this trivia night where you grab yourself a 10 buck steak, sit around drinking club price beer, and quiz in your pants. Although we came away as... well lets just admit it, the losers, it was one of the happiest spontaneous nights I have had in some time. 

In fact, the whole week has been happy. I feel like I have actually accomplished something other than laziness. I keep trying to come up with ways of keeping myself busy and not just sitting in all day attempting to complete uniwork, and failing miserably.  I have been exercising, and working, and writing and socialising AND I have decided to try and come up with a new blog. One that could actually be about something other than my selfish little life. 

I shall think about this. 

(Image from weheartit)

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Lets run away and never come back.

(image from weheartit.com)

Sometimes things happen. Things that make you want to run away from everything. From responsibility. From problems. From life. 

Today I sat through a solid 3 hours of meetings. It's my responsibility and I can deal with that. What I can't deal with is conflict. I've always been terrible at it. I dont like upsetting people, or seeing people upset even when sometimes things need to be said. 

Honestly, after so long, listening to negative takes on negativity, despite a possibly positive outcome, it made me want to cry. I wanted to curl up in a corner and just cry until it all went away. It made me want to get in my car and drive. Drive away to somewhere warm, where I dont have to feel constant responsibility and pressure from others. Where I dont have to think about the past or the people from there. Where I could sit and stare over the water or the mountains and think to myself "Fuck, this is beautiful. This is life." The problem is though, I can't do that. It's not a possibility. There is no way out of this one right now. Sometimes you have to suck it up. 

But is it worth the sacrifice that I make to myself, every single second, of every minute, of every day? Ask me in November. 

This probably sounds utterly pathetic and very uncreative, but my thoughts are so jumbled right now, that I am having trouble just reading back what I have written.  I hope it doesn't sound like a "dear diary" entry. If it does, you know the shits really hit the fan.

Followers