From 25 August 2017, as the horror of the brutal ethnic cleansing of Myanmar’s long-persecuted Rohingya Muslims unfolded, I found myself immersed in <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z8NprVGCmjE">Al Jazeera’s coverage</a> of the news while working there. Within a few weeks from that fateful day up to 680,000 Rohingya people took shelter in neighbouring Bangladesh, leaving behind their homes in Rakhine State and carrying with them the harrowing stories of death, destruction, rape and other forms of barbarity committed by the Myanmar army and chauvinist Buddhists. Sadly, the crisis didn’t begin on that terrible day. Al-Jazeera had been diligently covering the Rohingya plight since 2012.
The <a href="http://www.the-platform.org.uk/2017/08/23/myanmars-enemy-within-the-illusion-of-diversity-and-the-spread-of-fear/">Myanmar</a> government has been deploying the infamous post-9/11 rhetoric – the “global war on terror” – to justify its actions, using the Arakan Rohingya Solidarity Army (ARSA) as an excuse to destroy the whole population. ARSA, a small rag tag group with no support from the Rohingya, first emerged in October 2016 when they killed nine police officers in northern Rakhine. This resulted in the systematic attacks on the Rohingya. An adviser to the European Center for the Study of Extremism, <a href="http://www.eurocse.org/dr-maung-zarni.html">Maung Zarni</a>, told Al Jazeera that &#8220;this is not a terrorist group aimed at striking at the heart of Myanmar society as the government claims it is, they&#8217;re a group of hopeless men who decided to form some kind of self-defence group and protect their people who are living in conditions akin to a Nazi concentration camp.&#8221; 
The Rohingya, a minority ethnic Muslim group numbering between 1.6 to 1.8 million, have been living in Myanmar’s western coastal state of Rakhine, with connections to the land since the 8th century. However, they are not considered by the regime as one of 135 official ethnic groups and were stripped of citizenship rights from 1982, after facing a series of vicious evictions since 1978.
The media and human rights groups have reported on the intense <a href="https://www.ibtimes.co.uk/new-wave-destruction-sees-1250-houses-destroyed-myanmars-rohingya-villages-1592582">human rights violations</a> carried out by the Myanmar military since the October 2016 ARSA attacks. In late November, <a href="https://www.hrw.org/news/2016/11/13/burma-massive-destruction-rohingya-villages">Human Rights Watch</a> released satellite images which showed that about 1,250 Rohingya houses in five villages had been burned down by the security forces. Many Rohingya have fled Myanmar as refugees to take shelter in nearby Bangladesh, particularly in the coastal town of Cox’s Bazaar. Since 2017 there has been an influx of <a href="https://reliefweb.int/sites/reliefweb.int/files/resources/iscg_situation_report_19_july_2018.pdf">919,000 refugees</a> who have been displaced from their villages in Rakhine state. Most have joined the 300,000 Rohingya already residing in the refugee camps of Cox’s Bazaar following their displacement in previous years.
I first came across the Rohingya crisis in 2013 when I watched a documentary called <a href="https://www.aljazeera.com/programmes/aljazeerainvestigates/2012/12/2012125122215836351.html">The Hidden Genocide</a>. It was a testimony of a people fleeing the land where they were born and had lived for generations. But what informed me more about the Rohingya is Dr Muhammad Abdul Bari&#8217;s book <a href="https://www.kubepublishing.com/shop/the-rohingya-crisis-a-people-facing-extinction/">The Rohingya Crisis: A People Facing Extinction</a> published in May 2018. In it, in a concise yet detailed way, he brings to light the scale and barbarity of their suffering, especially since the military takeover of Myanmar in 1962.
Dr Bari provides a commentary on the history and the current predicament of the Rohingya people. His book, which takes a meticulous evidence-based approach, provides a denunciation of Myanmar’s ethnic cleansing campaign. He proves, from expert opinions, that what the Rohingya are going through is nothing less than genocide and argues that the international community, through the UN, must ensure their full repatriation to their homeland with full citizen rights. Myanmar refuses to acknowledge the status of the Rohingya as a people with a history in Rakhine State, instead insisting that they are Bangladeshi immigrants who should return to Bangladesh. The government has gone so far as to refuse to use the word Rohingya to describe them, using “Bengali” instead.
The nine chapters in Dr Bari’s book cover the origin of the Arakanese (now called Rakhine) Muslims, how Arakan thrived before colonialism, the period of colonisation and its aftermath, Myanmar’s actions against the Rohingya, and rape and crimes against women and children. It also includes the definition of genocide, how the Rohingya persecution has fit this definition, how geopolitical and other factors have so far failed to help the Rohingya in their plight, and lastly but perhaps most importantly, what should be done.
The writer draws a historical picture to verify the longstanding connection between the Rohingya and Rakhine State, dating back to the 8th century when Arab Muslim traders first traded in the area. Notably, in the early 15th century, with the patronage of the Sultan of Bengal, Jalal-ud-din Mohamed Shah, the Arakanese King, Min Saw-Mun, won his throne back and took in a large contingent of Bengal Muslims to Arakan in 1430. In subsequent centuries, even though the Arakan kings were Buddhist, Muslims became part and parcel of Arakan and contributed heavily in statecraft, business, culture and commerce.
Dr Bari highlights the humanity shown by Bangladesh to the Rohingya refugees. However, he criticises the two regional powers, China and India, for their failure to put pressure on Myanmar to solve the crisis and their focus instead on their own economic and political interests. He mentions the less-than satisfactory role of Myanmar’s former colonial power, Britain, as well as the UN impotence in bringing Myanmar to task and facilitating the repatriation of the Rohingya with their citizenship rights. He also emphasises the lack of leadership and embarrassing unwillingness of Myanmar’s civil leader, the Nobel Laureate <a href="http://www.the-platform.org.uk/2018/06/03/aung-san-suu-kyi-in-the-shadow-of-genocide/">Aung San Suu Kyi</a>, to intervene.
Dr Bari quotes <a href="http://www.genocidewatch.org/aboutus/bydrgregorystanton.html">Professor Gregory Stanton&#8217;s definition of Genocide</a> which consists of eight phases: classification, symbolisation, dehumanisation, organisation, polarisation preparation, extermination and a denial of a people. He echoes with some prominent individuals that the depth and breadth of persecution of the Rohingya is nothing less than genocide.
It will soon be 25 years since the genocides in Rwanda and Bosnia took place, yet the term “never again” that was promised after the Holocaust is becoming hollow as the world refuses to learn from the mistakes of the past. Dr Bari&#8217;s book is a plea to action to the international community, politicians, advocacy groups and civic leaders. His book serves as an excellent resource and facts-based deposition that I would recommend for anyone who wants to know more about the history of the Rohingya, the current situation and what should be done. It is a book that should be read by all, and particularly those interested in human rights and justice, and those who want to prevent the atrocities of the past being committed again.
The Rohingya Crisis: A People Facing Extinction by Dr Muhammad Abdul Bari is available for purchase from <a href="https://www.kubepublishing.com/products/the-rohingya-crisis">Kube Publishing</a>.
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<pre>Photo: UNICEF</pre>

A meticulous, fact-based and historical approach to the ongoing Rohingya genocide

Facing Extinction: New Book Explores the Ongoing Genocide of the Rohingya

Mainstreaming the Muslim presence in Britain through creative activism 
Whether it is extremism, immigration, integration or crime, Muslims are usually at the centre of discussion in Europe. Post 7/7 Britain is no exception with Islam and Muslims appearing in headlines almost daily and the focus on particularly young Muslims for mostly negative reasons continues unabated. Despite Britain being considerably better in integrating the Muslim community compared to its European neighbours, the scrutiny on them has become a normal part of life now. In <a href="https://edinburghuniversitypress.com/book-british-muslims.html">British Muslims: New Directions in Islamic Thought, Creativity and Activism</a>, Philip Lewis and Sadek Hamid have made painstaking efforts to show the complexity and dynamics of these exceptionally diverse Muslims as they craft their place in Britain. Both have written extensively on Islam and possess huge background knowledge on Muslim issues. 
The authors have pulled no punches in discussing sensitive Muslim issues within the context of 21st century, multi-faith Britain. They have highlighted the fact that British Muslims constitute the microcosm of the global Muslim ummah with numerous ethnicities and languages as well as religious and cultural traditions; making the idea of a monolithic Muslim community pointless. Most live in deprived inner city conurbations. With a higher proportion of youth in their midst, still less than half UK-born, more than two-thirds have their roots in south Asia. 
Philip Lewis and Sadek Hamid highlight the changing nature of British Muslims in recent decades, their educational progress, cultural gaps due to the intergenerational shift, disproportionate prison populations or engagement with the wider society are still fluid. They have been facing challenges, but their success in some sectors of life such as charity, health, business and entrepreneurship is significant. The authors have ably, and with some empathy, discussed the emerging dynamics within the communities – occasionally bringing in religious or theological points of view but without being explicitly judgmental. 
A book of this nature, especially after 7/7, cannot ignore discussing topical issues such as, Muslim leadership, radicalisation and extremism or youth lifestyles. The topics in the book are wide-ranging with some very topical themes such as women in the mosques; public life and youth activism; changing lifestyles from the perspectives of varying Islamic traditions have been highlighted prominently. 
Modern Britain has seen cultural trends that are bringing rapid changes in people’s values and lifestyles, due to influential external factors such as technology and social media. While organised religions, as a whole have taken a back seat in people’s personal and social life, the religion of Islam has still a big influence on the life of its followers – in their internal behaviour and external social engagement. To many Muslims, modernity and their faith are not exclusive or inimical. This is another area that confuses many people, including Muslims, with superficial knowledge of Islam. 
The presence and representation of <a href="https://mcb.org.uk/project/women-in-mosques/">women in mosques</a> is now being widely discussed within communities as essential to securing the future of the faith. Mosques are at the heart of not only Muslim religious and spiritual well-being, but also of their community life as historically, ‘people’ were always at the heart of the mosques. The first individual who embraced Islam was Prophet Muhammad’s (peace and blessings be upon him) own beloved wife and the first martyr was one of his prominent woman companions in Makkah. In the Prophet’s mosque in Madinah women used to pray in the same hall behind men’s rows without having any physical barrier between them. 
The authors have highlighted the changing dynamics of British Muslim communities, particularly the younger generations and examined good practices and innovative projects. This focus particularly on the younger generations strikes a special chord with me, as I have been working on this for over three decades. Young people, wherever they come from, are an asset of any society. However, they are generally driven by idealism and impatience in their passion to bring swift results. This will only happen if done within the core principles and universal but inclusive teachings of Islam. 
Continuous renewal of Islam and reform of the Muslim society has always been at the heart of Islam’s teachings. Scholars and social leaders since Islam’s early days have been advocating for this rejuvenation and advancement. British Muslims cannot be an exception, especially in an intellectually rigorous and socially challenging environment. They are still going through the teething problems and the slow progress may be frustrating to the younger generations, but the signs of changes are in sight. 
In writing this book, the authors have taken a significant step forward along this path. Readers will gain an understanding of how the Muslim community, particularly its younger section, is going through an internal introspection and trying to navigate its way into mainstreaming its presence in Britain. 
You can purchase a copy of British Muslims: New Directions in Islamic Thought, Creativity and Activism, Philip Lewis and Sadek Hamid, from <a href="https://edinburghuniversitypress.com/book-british-muslims.html">Edinburgh University Press</a>.<a href="http://www.the-platform.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/2018/11/British-Muslims-Philip-Lewis-Sadek-Hamed-large.jpg"><img loading="lazy" class="aligncenter wp-image-13302" src="http://www.the-platform.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/2018/11/British-Muslims-Philip-Lewis-Sadek-Hamed-large.jpg" alt="British Muslims Philip Lewis Sadek Hamed - large" width="350" height="525" /></a>

British-Muslims-Philip-Lewis-Sadek-Hamid

Exploring British Muslims through the Lens of Youth, Creativity and Activism

Deftly woven and wittily presented Born A Crime is a cathartic narrative of the complexity of a fractured post-apartheid South Africa 
An “autobiographical comedy” is how Trevor Noah’s memoir Born A Crime is often described. But, as everyone’s current favourite satirical funny man, Noah does here too what he does best. Drollery as a façade for dark witticisms. A laugh-out-loud hardcover made up of pages laced with a grim life story not really meant to be taken lightly. 
The title is literal in every sense of the phrase: Noah was born to a Swiss father and a Xhosa mother in an apartheid-governed South Africa when such “alliances” were punishable by law. As a result, Noah would be officiated as “coloured”. The proverbial stamp would haunt him as “the anomaly wherever we lived” he writes. “In Hillbrow, we lived in a white area, and nobody looked like me. In Soweto, we lived in a black area, and nobody looked like me. Eden Park was a coloured area, everyone looked like me, but we couldn’t have been more different.” 
As a result, Noah learned to be a “chameleon”, over the years building up fluency in English, Afrikaans, and four other native tongues. He would perceptively observe: “Language brings with it an identity and a culture, or at least the perception of it. A shared language says, ‘we’re the same.’ A language barrier says, ‘we’re different.’ The architects of apartheid knew this.” 
Noah was only nine years old when Mandela was freed, and he recollects matter-of-factly how before then, “I could only see my father where apartheid allowed,” which was mostly indoors and not out in public. One would then expect a less bleaker account of a ‘liberated’ South Africa, but Noah offers us both; his own astute interpretations of memories from a police-state childhood, along with observations of post-apartheid repercussions of the war Africa “waged with its own self”. 
“The difference between British racism and Afrikaner racism was that at least the British gave the natives something to aspire to,” he says in the book. “If they learned to speak correct English and dress in proper clothes, if they could Anglicise and civilise themselves, one day they might be welcome in society. The Afrikaners never gave us that option. British racism said ‘If the monkey can walk like a man and talk like a man, then perhaps he is a man.’ Afrikaner racism said, ‘Why give a book to a monkey?’” 
There are most certainly hilarious accounts of his childhood (and young adulthood) shenanigans included – you can almost picture Noah having an entire audience at one of his stand-up shows in fits. But woven in between the comedy are personal insights into years of self-fostered intuitiveness that almost pale in comparison to the snippets of perception we see on The Daily Show. 
“The thing Africans don’t have that Jewish people do have is documentation,” he reflects in one of the longer passages. “The Nazis took meticulous records, took pictures, made films. Holocaust victims count because Hitler counted them. Six million people killed. We can all look at that number and be rightly horrified. But when you read through the atrocities against Africans, there are no numbers, only guesses. It’s harder to be horrified by a guess.” 
Many who rushed for the shelves as soon as Born A Crime was released late last year most likely anticipated a slapstick narrative. What they didn’t expect as they closed the other end of the hard cover was to be wondering how a social pariah, an ex-“hustler” and a witness (and recipient) to an abusive stepfather, could possibly get even near the standing he has today. 
The answer, however, is in the dedication and final lines of this journal. “For bringing me into this world and making me the man I am today, I owe the greatest debt, a debt I can never repay, to my mother.” For above all, this story is a heartbreakingly heartening ode to his mother – a fiercely devout woman, a single parent stubbornly unconcerned about societal norms, a firm believer in “tough love” and a person who can even find humour in being shot in the face. 
“Learn from your past and be better because of your past. But don’t cry because of your past. Life is full of pain. Let the pain sharpen you, but don’t hold on to it. Don’t be bitter.” And as the reader moves along this album of words, he/she comes to realise that for all the acerbity Noah carries about South Africa and its governance, his retrospection with regards to his personal upbringing are unresentful – they are the bobs from the bits that he recollects fondly and comically. 
In every tribute he makes to his mother, one can even come to the conclusion that this book is autographed for all women, really. The strength in us that is wasted on just carrying pickets, and not, well, doing. The God-given grit we innately possess that has us smiling and marching on in the face of disappointment after disappointment. The voices we are granted, not just for loudspeakers at marches, but to teach a generation we wholly intend to be better than ours. 
Noah clearly has an incredible story to tell, and all those who have turned these leaves are glad that he did. This page-turner will have you laughing, have your heart racing, and even most unexpectedly, have you watering your eyes in acknowledgement of the love with which it has been written.
<pre>Image from TIME</pre>

Born a Crime, Raised an Icon: Trevor Noah’s Powerful Autobiography

James Baldwin’s moving final words featured in I Am Not your Negro serve as an immortal message of political maturity to the activists of today 
James Baldwin stated that the story of the Negro in America is the story of America itself, and it is that story Raoul Peck beautifully captures in his film, I Am Not Your Negro. The film is based on Baldwin’s unfinished manuscript on the lives of his three friends: Medgar Evans, Malcolm X and Dr Martin Luther King Junior. 
Samuel L. Jackson narrates Baldwin’s voice. Even through his smooth and silky tone, Baldwin&#8217;s words still manage to stand out. They penetrate through the mind and lodge themselves uncomfortably within, until you are forced to face reality and really weigh the strength of his words. 
In a letter written to his literary agent, Baldwin describes his book proposal as a journey, “because you cannot know what you will discover on the journey, what you will do with what you find, or what you will find will do to you.” And it is precisely that – a journey of beautifully shot scenes through American streets, juxtaposed with archive film and interview footage. It is not just a visual journey, but one that, through Baldwin’s words, the audience must make in their mind. Supported by his eloquence in capturing a complex state of affairs, he offers a scaffold to the curious listener to venture on the journey for themselves. It is these personal reflections on the lessons learnt that I share below:
1. Chapter: PAYING MY DUES 
I Am Because We Are
Baldwin begins by discussing the historic case commonly known as &#8216;Brown vs the Board of Education&#8217;, and the struggle black people faced in America to fight for the end of segregated schooling. He focuses on the story of Dorothy Counts, and the film displays archive footage of her “unutterable pride, tension and anguish as she approached the halls of learning, with history jeering at her back”, quite literally, as innumerable white faces goaded and taunted her. 
Baldwin talks of his shame, saying, “some one of us should have been there with her!” At this point in time, Baldwin had been living in France and had grown weary of waxing lyrical of the Algerian problem and the black problem in America. One can discover from this that, although interlocution has its place and use, it is rendered entirely meaningless unless it is action-guided and solution-focused. 
Dues must be paid is the message I garnered from this. Throughout our histories, our peoples have passed the baton, struggled and sacrificed so we could be here. And the baton must not just be passed on, but it must be carried – and though it may be heavy, we must bear it with strength and compassion.
2. Chapter: HEROES &amp; WITNESSES
 One of Baldwin’s intentions in writing a book about his three friends was for their “lives to bang against each other, as a means of instructing the people.” It made me reflect, just as he did, on the people who influenced him, and how very strongly our experiences shape our perspective. 
He talks of the old western ‘Cowboys vs. Indians’ movies and the point in which you realise that the “Indian is you!” This genre serves to comfort the white world, that they indeed are heroes and forever on the right side of history. As you grow up, you dishearteningly realise that, in fact, all your favourite superheroes were slyly misogynistic patriots, pregnant with imperial ambition. But then, at some point during this long drawn out epiphany, you receive “instruction”. You read, hear, meet or connect with someone who really and truly “corroborates your reality”, as Malcolm X did for the vast majority of black people in America. 
One further wonders, “what is your role in this country and what is your future in it?” Since we live at a time of globalisation, these questions invite others such as, “what is my role on earth? What am I meant to do? As a theist, what does God expect of me?” Baldwin describes himself as a witness, taking it upon himself to “write the story and get out”. Thus, we must also seek to ascertain what role we should play in society: hero, witness, leader, follower&#8230; the list goes on. How best can we utilise our unique skill sets to serve our communities? Answering this question, however, is no easy feat and may even take a lifetime to figure out, but nevertheless, it is a conversation one must continue to have. 
Later Baldwin discusses how two of the heroes of his journey were often pitted against each other: Martin and Malcolm. But from his unique vantage point, he reflects on how their respective positions shifted towards each other: “…two men coming from unimaginably different backgrounds, whose positions, originally, were poles apart, driven closer and closer together. By the time each died, their positions had become virtually the same position.” The quote is too beautiful not to include in full. “It can be said, indeed, that Martin had picked up Malcolm&#8217;s burden, articulated the vision which Malcolm had begun to see, and for which he paid with his life. And that Malcolm was one of the people Martin saw on the mountaintop.” These few lines are among my favourite of the whole film and book as their main lesson is that of political maturity. 
You can never chastise someone who is fighting the same battle as you, but perhaps chooses to use a different weapon. Having a wide range of defences can, in fact, be to your ultimate advantage as Martin Luther King saw later in his life. It is the men’s maturity, open-mindedness, and sheer unadulterated sincerity in their willingness to publicly admit their wrongs, that we need to learn to take instruction from. As Malcolm X stated, “I have always been a man who tries to face facts, and to accept the reality of life. As new experiences and new knowledge unfolds, I have always kept an open mind, which is necessary to the flexibility that must go hand-in-hand with every form of intelligent search of truth.” As a mentor I know recently pontificated, changing an opinion comes from a position of increased knowledge and it is knowledge we should seek, above all, to form our actions.
3. Chapter: I AM NOT A NEGRO
In the same speech from which the title of the film, I Am Not Your Negro, is taken, Baldwin doesn&#8217;t just negate what he is not, but rather affirms what he is – “I&#8217;m not a nigger, I am a man.” Although the negation is important (as it is always of use to dispel that which is not true), I strongly believe it is the affirmation that should be stated loud and clear. Exemplify who you are so strongly, that no one can ever say otherwise. Embody who you are and your principles so loudly, that no one can speak over them. 
With thanks to Penguin Random House for sending me this book. You can get a copy of <a href="http://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/556894/i-am-not-your-negro-by-james-baldwin/">I Am Not Your Negro</a> through their website. 
<a href="http://www.the-platform.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/2017/06/James-Baldwin.jpg"><img loading="lazy" class="aligncenter size-medium wp-image-12826" src="http://www.the-platform.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/2017/06/James-Baldwin-300x200.jpg" alt="james baldwin review the platform" width="300" height="200" /></a> 
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<pre><a style="color: #808080;" href="http://www.nbcnews.com/news/nbcblk/i-am-not-your-negro-baldwin-doc-affirms-troubling-truths-n716501">Featured image from here</a></pre>

Lessons James Baldwin Taught Me

Harriet Cummings explores the human psyche and the importance of human relationships in her debut period crime novel 
Set in a small village in the mid-80s, Harriet Cummings brings us her debut novel, <a href="https://www.orionbooks.co.uk/books/detail.page?isbn=9781409169079">We All Begin As Strangers</a>. The tale revolves around a cryptic figure nicknamed the Fox and the disappearance of a young woman named Anna. Before Anna’s disappearance, the residents of the village took an arguably light-hearted view of the Fox, relaying stories about him. Nonetheless, sooner rather than later, tensions and suspicions arise, and with it, distrust and accusations. 
The story is loosely based on true happenings that occurred during the time in which the novel is set. Inhabitants of small provisional villages came together to protect themselves after a pattern of armed burglaries, rape and indecent assault had occurred in their neighbourhoods. Cummings took inspiration from these events after the story had lingered in the back of her mind for many years. When we got in contact with her and asked why this particular historical incident, Cummings said: “It felt powerful to me. I always wondered exactly why the Fox was compelled to spend time in these people&#8217;s homes. The rapes and attacks are, of course, one thing, but to look through private photographs and other possessions is quite another.” There was a want to understand what kind of voyeuristic pleasure or satisfaction was gained, and what would drive a person to do this in the first place. From here, Cummings conceived her fictional story – the true events merely a seed to what blossomed into quite a fascinating tale. 
Cummings did, however, leave out the more malevolent characteristic of the Fox, that being his tendency to rape and abuse his victims. It was a personal choice made by the author and was partly due to the fact that she, as a reader, predominantly doesn’t like violent stories, specifically ones involving violence of the sexual nature. Additionally, the violent aspects of the true story held inferior interest to her in contrast to the curious quality of the voyeurism. It cannot be denied that the Fox’s lack of violence, in actuality, did increase the sinister vibe of the novel, as his motives remained unclear. There’s an almost ghost-story-like ambience that sweeps across the novel. The Fox could very well have been a phantom – he eerily observed the homeowners, moved a few things around, and left with his scent behind as evidence of his presence. This atmosphere feeds into the fear of the unknown that is present in all humans – a violent person wants to hurt, to have power, but what does a person who just comes to watch want exactly? 
What must be praised about this novel, first and foremost, is Cummings’ skill in her detailed world-building. Having been raised in the metropolis of London for nearly my entire life, village life is not something that I would say I was well acquainted with. I’m often told by both family and friends that I need to get out more, see how other people live. It is due to writers like Cummings that I find myself lost in books rather than the outside world. She does an excellent job in transporting the reader to unfamiliar territory, and presenting the small-town claustrophobia where word travels fast and everyone knows everyone’s business. 
The story is told from different perspectives, allowing every significant character to develop an actual personality. While there is logic behind the order of viewpoints, the initial character’s point of view was rather slow and did make getting into the story quite difficult. The sluggish build does require some patience on part of the reader, and I’ll admit, is the reason why it took me a while to complete the novel, and even go so far as to skip parts. This is probably the only evidence that We All Begin As Strangers is Cummings’ first novel – her clear difficulty in balancing the descriptive narrative of the world she creates with character action. Having said that, the detail and care taken in constructing the setting and the story is interesting in and of itself. 
Cummings opted to write from multiple views as a way to explore different sides of Anna&#8217;s personality and the village in general. She said that she “also liked the idea that each character forms a different relationship with the idea of the Fox being in their home, each sharing something in common with this mysterious person.” This created a complex relationship between the villagers and the Fox – there was no simple dichotomy labelling the villagers as exclusively innocent and the Fox as the clear antagonist. Everyone has secrets they wish to keep close to their chests, and in a small village where everyone thinks they know their neighbour, the secrets hold greater weight. This angle of taking multiple points of view, I feel, was pivotal to what I consider to be the core of the novel, and that is to explore the significance of human connections. 
To surmise, the story as a dark crime novel is done well and Cummings’ skills are well-demonstrated. Though pacing could be improved, she does not fail in creating characters with substance and a world that is vivid and real. Whether you like this novel or not, Cummings’ talent as a writer is unarguably remarkable, and her future in the literary arts looks bright. 
For fans of the novel, you’ll be happy to know that Cummings is working on her second book, this time a contemporary dark drama. 
You can purchase a copy of We All Begin As Strangers from <a href="https://www.orionbooks.co.uk/books/detail.page?isbn=9781409169079">Orion Books</a>, <a href="https://www.waterstones.com/%E2%80%A6/harriet-cummings/9781409169048">Waterstones</a> or <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/We-All-Begin-As-Strangers/dp/1409169049">Amazon</a>. 
<a href="http://www.the-platform.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/We-All-Begin-As-Strangers-large-.jpg"><img loading="lazy" class="aligncenter wp-image-12798" src="http://www.the-platform.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/We-All-Begin-As-Strangers-large-.jpg" alt="We All Begin As Strangers - Harriet Cummings" width="375" height="566" /></a>

What Makes a Fox? – We All Begin As Strangers by Harriet Cummings

New book by Rob Donovan imagines the pilgrim on a journey of rampant inequality in Britain 
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There has been a lot of speculation about the political and social context in which Jeremy Corbyn came to be<a href="http://www.the-platform.org.uk/2016/07/06/editorial-labour-pains/"> leader of the Labour party</a>, despite the opprobrium of the majority of Labour MPs. 
Former political editor of The Times, Philip Webster, suggests that it is the result of <a href="http://www.harpercollins.ca/9780008201333/inside-story-politics-intrigue-and-treachery-from-thatcher-to-brexit">“one of the biggest blunders”</a> of New Labour following the death of John Smith in 1994: the so-called Granita Pact, in which a ‘gentlemen’s deal’ was done to give Tony Blair uncontested leadership without the need to hold a leadership election. That was fine while Blairism was popular, but the largely unpopular Iraq war and the business-friendly nature of New Labour were to become increasingly despised policies among both traditional Labour supporters and the wider electorate. 
Commenting on the Left’s increasing influence in The New European magazine (October 14-20), Webster asserts: “Much of the British Left has always been more interested in winning the Labour party than winning the country… they insist that the country has never had the chance to vote for a diet of true socialism or a leader who really believed in it… Now they have Jeremy Corbyn, a veteran of the Left’s last attempt to take over Labour.” 
Author Rob Donovan paints a bigger picture of what he sees as the actual conditions that have resulted in the renewed appeal of socialism, and therefore Corbyn’s coronation, in his new book. 
In The Road To Corbyn, Donovan has created what the publishers describe as “the conceit of a dream” – a modern take on one of Christianity’s classic pieces of allegorical literature, The Pilgrim’s Progress. That book, written by John Bunyan in 1678, was detailed as “The Pilgrim&#8217;s Progress from This World to That Which Is to Come; Delivered under the Similitude of a Dream”. The central character, Christian, is seen making the journey from this world to the “Celestial City”. 
So: what a conceit! For many people of faith, particularly Christian, I suspect the hijacking of a masterpiece on faith and the spiritual journey by a left-wing author will grate, especially as Donovan’s Interpreter points out that Pilgrim’s journey “will be a journey without the support of faith”. 
Donovan’s version of the Pilgrim, far from being Bunyan’s earnest believer in God, is an every-man seeker after ‘truth’, in particular during the lifetime of the 2010-2015 UK government. The Pilgrim is aided and abetted in his quest by three key characters: Lady Hope, Charity, “a bird whose colours, crimson red and honey yellow, flamed in the sunlight”, and the Interpreter, who will be Pilgrim’s guide on “the path… that leads to the most content for the many and the least misery for the few.” A Socialist Narnia, then. 
There follows an account of Pilgrim’s journey through a Britain of rampant inequality and unjust distribution of wealth – a country run by those who deceive themselves and others to justify the policies and politics that reinforce those perceived inequalities and injustices. 
Along the way we meet some of the protagonists such as the Prime Minister (Head Boy), the Chancellor of the Exchequer (Pocket Money), and No Benefit, in charge of Work and Pensions. All are pretty predictable caricatures of the <a href="http://www.the-platform.org.uk/2016/08/19/boyish-smirks-and-outrageous-insults-why-boris-johnson-is-the-postmodern-proteus/">Conservative-led government</a>. 
Once the “I saw in my dream” nonsense is abandoned, Donovan gets down to marshalling and quoting an impressive range of political, social and economic commentators. There are numbered footnotes (132 in all) to explain references and support his arguments. He cites some of the obvious, including Thomas Piketty, Dr Ha-Joon Chang, Naomi Klein and Joseph Stiglitz, along with several contributors to the Guardian and The Observer. 
The Road To Corbyn is more than a pastiche of Pilgrim’s Progress, however. If you can get past the allegorical characters and concentrate on what the Interpreter (Donovan, obviously) explains, you get a broad picture of the Left in particular, and the renewed appeal of socialism among Labour supporters. There is also much about the nature of democracy and its alleged abuses by the Right, as well as an offer of alternatives to austerity, market forces and the monetising of healthcare, among other references. 
Corbyn’s rise, according to Donovan, was inevitable. Inevitable, too, the concerted effort of the Right, bolstered by a largely sympathetic majority of the (capitalist-owned) media, to trash him. 
“Jeremy Corbyn is a man who has consistently seen the world as a fundamentally good place filled with people who are shamefully let down by an elite who are half-crazed by power and wealth,” the Interpreter claims – and this impression is what has clearly galvanised not only the Left, but an increasing number of ordinary men and women who believe that real, practical socialism is finally within reach. 
If you believe in socialism, then, Donovan is preaching to the converted, and if you are a sympathetic doubter, you might just be persuaded. 
Rob Donovan’s <a href="http://www.troubador.co.uk/book_info.asp?bookid=3971">The Road To Corbyn: A Modern Day’s Pilgrim’s Progress</a> is published by Matador (2016)
<pre>Image from: http://politi.co/1X1ItSA</pre>

The Pilgrim&#039;s Progress: Corbyn&#039;s Long and Winding Road

Today marks the anniversary of the passing of a heavyweight radical intellectual few now remember 
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‘In addition to being an oral person – a sort of peregrine Muslim sage, and all of us his chelas, or disciples – he shouldn’t leave his words scattered to the winds or even recorded on tape, but collected and published in several volumes for everyone to read.’ 
So wrote Edward Said in regards to his great friend and mentor of sorts, Pakistani intellectual Eqbal Ahmad in the foreword for <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Eqbal-Ahmad-Confronting-David-Barsamian/dp/0896086151?ie=UTF8&amp;*Version*=1&amp;*entries*=0">Confronting Empire</a>, a collection of interviews between Ahmad and David Barsamian. Sadly however, the volumes Said had hoped for never materialised and Ahmad’s intellectual contribution has been increasingly overlooked in the years following his death in 1999. Addressing this gap, long-time friend and collaborator, Emeritus Professor of Middle East History at Brooklyn College Stuart Schaar recently authored the biography <a href="http://cup.columbia.edu/book/eqbal-ahmad/9780231171564">Eqbal Ahmad: Critical Outsider in a Turbulent Age</a>, to <a href="http://www.thenational.ae/arts-life/the-review/book-review-eqbal-ahmad-critical-outsider-in-a-turbulent-age--a-compelling-portrait-of-a-pakistani-activist#full">several</a> <a href="http://www.dawn.com/news/1200620">positive</a> <a href="http://www.thefridaytimes.com/tft/the-intellectuals-intellectual/">reviews</a>. To aid his efforts, Schaar gained access to archives at Hampshire College where Ahmad once taught and­­­­­ left students enthralled. He also travelled the globe to speak to family members and former comrades of his Princeton class-fellow. 
In the book we learn of a young boy born in Bihar (India) traumatised by the murder of his father over a land dispute, and subsequently by the chaos of partition. Moving to Lahore, Ahmad gained his formal education from Foreman Christian College, following which he attained a scholarship to Princeton where he completed a PhD on the labour movement in Morocco. As the book progresses, we learn of the maturation not just of a radical intellectual heavyweight, but one actively involved in tackling contemporary world events, whether raging against the Vietnam war or supporting trade unions and revolutionaries in North Africa; or whether fermenting cross-cultural Indo-Pak ties or holding frequent <a href="http://www.thirdworldtraveler.com/Eqbal_Ahmad/BornAgainApartheid.html">fiercely critical</a> interactions with Yasser Arafat and the PLO after building a <a href="http://www.theguardian.com/news/1999/may/14/guardianobituaries1">close friendship</a> with Edward Said. Not one to be easily categorised, Ahmad was no unrelenting pacifist, swimming against the tide even among his own leftist circles when he felt it necessary, arguing, for example, in favour of NATO intervention in the former Yugoslavia. 
Ahmad also alleged to have worked alongside Frantz Fanon (although somewhat controversially, Schaar denies this took place), and at one point found himself on trial for conspiracy to <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/1999/05/13/us/eqbal-ahmad-scholar-and-antiwar-activist-dies-at-67.html">kidnap</a> Henry Kissinger. Ever the idealist, he sketched a plan with anti-war Catholic priests to briefly detain the secretary of state in order to deliver him an education on the conflict in Vietnam. Among the priests with whom Ahmad engaged in acts of civil disobedience were famous pacifists the Berrigan brothers, the last of whom – father David Berrigan – sadly died <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2016/05/01/nyregion/daniel-j-berrigan-defiant-priest-who-preached-pacifism-dies-at-94.html?_r=0">earlier this month</a>. 
Earlier this year, Professor Schaar spoke about his book at London’s School of Oriental and African Studies, his eyes twinkling while recalling stories about his old friend. I later contacted him for an interview: 
You open the book with talk of Eqbal’s knack for predicting future events that later transpired, using six examples to illustrate this. How was it that in your words, he was ‘able to see trends emerging before his peers’?  
Eqbal read widely and had a profound knowledge not only of political science, but also history. He was an iconoclast and therefore did not accept the paradigms in fashion in his day. He started with different assumptions than his peers in international relations – anti-imperialism, critical of capitalism, and distrust of official policies and statements – allowing him to see events in an original way. He was also quite smart, making it easy for him to see through state policies and criticise them. He championed many unpopular causes and in that sense was riding against the tide, making it difficult to succeed in some of his campaigns such as around Bosnia and Kosovo. He also opposed the nuclearisation of the Indian subcontinent, but did not have any chance to affect policy because of the extreme nationalism present in India and Pakistan. He also opposed Indian partition and thought that it could be reversed. Intense nationalism on both side of the Indian/Pakistani border made that an impossible dream. As a cosmopolitan, in contrast to narrow nationalism, he faced insurmountable barriers that he could not overcome. That never stopped him from championing those causes that he thought right. 
Here was a figure who counted among his friends Edward Said, Howard Zinn, Noam Chomsky, Richard Falk and others, and was respected by these figures as a prodigious intellectual. Why is it that his name isn’t as well known among activist circles? 
By virtue of not writing the “big book” as Edward Said did with Orientalism, he was forgotten by all, but people over 40-50 years old who met him and remember him. The younger generation have found other heroes and heroines. I wrote the book to keep his memory alive and push people to read his collected works. 
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<blockquote>
<h2>The younger generation have found other heroes and heroines. I wrote the book to keep his memory alive and push people to read his collected works.&#8221;</h2>
</blockquote>
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Eqbal spent a lot of his time critiquing the scourge of nationalism, after breaking from his own while studying in the states. How do you think he would explain the jingoistic nationalisms of today; could he have imagined an India led by Narinder Modi, or the ascendency of Donald Trump? 
He wrote a great deal about the rightest trends in India, and of course he was very critical, especially of extreme Hindu nationalists attacking mosques and Muslim citizens. He was surrounded by jingoist nationalism, even among those that he tried to work with when he returned to Pakistan at the end of his life and it disturbed him. He was also a realist and joined groups that fought against blind nationalism. But that was like trying to swim against the tide, but he did it anyway because he thought that it was the right thing to do. 
Eqbal learnt that centralisation associated with revolutionary movements such as that in Algeria often inadvertently sets up structures that pave the way for military take-overs such as Colonel Boumediene’s. In the second chapter you talk about Eqbal exasperatedly shouting at President Ben Bella for betraying the revolution at a trade union meeting. Did Eqbal propose an alternate route in revolution or is this phenomenon an inevitability post-colonial states must resign themselves to? 
He wrote three critical long articles on the post-colonial state that should have been made into the core of an important book. [From Potato Sack to Potato Mash: The Contemporary Crisis of the Third World, Arab Studies Quarterly 2, no.3 (1980), Post Colonial Systems of Power, Arab Studies Quarterly 2, no.4 (1980), The Neo-fascist State: The Pathology of Power in the Third World, Arab Studies Quarterly 3, no.2 (1981)] He never found the time to write that book. I discuss those articles in a section of this biography starting on p.109 (US edition). He did not believe in inevitability and thought that activists had to fight fiercely for democracy. 
In Confronting Empire Eqbal talked about Tagore’s attitude towards nationalism, decrying it an ideology of exclusion. How necessary, however, is such an ideology as a vehicle to rid states of colonisers, as was the case in British India? 
Nationalism, of course, is a powerful force and Eqbal understood that. He also admitted that it was necessary in the anti-colonial struggle. But post-independence it could be nefarious and it was there that he criticised its worst aspects. Without strong legitimacy third world dictators used nationalism to consolidate and hold onto power. It was here that Eqbal criticised blind nationalism and saw it as a substitute for building strong institutions for state building. He came to oppose most partitions and favoured long negotiations over slicing countries into artificial pieces that needed jingoism to survive. Was this a pipe-dream? Was it utopian? Others thought so. He did not. 
In chapter four you mention Eqbal’s understanding of ‘Islamists’ as a ‘modern phenomenon, a response to the crisis of modernity and identity’ which, you explain, occurs when ‘societies moved from agrarian/ pastoral mode of production to the industrial…men and women who are stranded between the deep waters of tradition and modernity’. With a remarkable number of today’s fundamentalists hailing from urban centres with western educations, growing up playing video games – does his logic still hold? 
I think it does hold. After all, Muslims in the west are often alienated from their racist societies. Ghettos, where many are forced to live, do not foster integration despite all the rhetoric to the opposite. Alienation has little to do with levels of education or video games. 
Perceptions of reality and blocked opportunities because of cultural backgrounds push young people to join radical movements within Islam, which attack the perceived victimisers. Lack of meaningful work and career opportunities also kick in and radicalise young Muslims. 
You open the book ascribing Eqbal’s originality to his position as an outsider who was able to reach ‘maturity outside the frameworks of Pakistan’s social and political constraints’. Would you agree such positions of marginality are experienced increasingly today by second and third generation ethnic minority children growing up in the west; furthermore, do you see such marginality informing new waves of great intellectuals? 
I hope so. Seeing the world from the outside sometimes radicalises people. It does not happen in all cases. It depends on the baggage that a person brings to her/his reality. In Eqbal’s case, his family’s progressive tradition and his ultra-moral upbringing by his older brother radicalised him and positioned him to be an outsider in an amoral world. He had a sense of social justice that few other people possess. He also studied and wrote about people who tried to change the world and failed gloriously. Despite their failure, he saw that these people had a significant impact on their society’s ideology and choices. That is what counted for Eqbal. 
In the penultimate chapter you write: ‘When all the dictators and militaristic governments that the United States supported fell like a house of cards by the 1980s, Eqbal wondered in amazement how Kissinger with such a flawed global policy still remained a prized consultant of US Republican presidents and corporate executives’. He’s now a prized consultant of a certain Democratic frontrunner. How has Kissinger survived utterly unscathed? 
Kissinger represents hegemonic culture in the United States. As an employee of David Rockefellar, the president of the Chase Manhattan Bank, access to the US elite were opened to Kissinger. His major scholarly work dealt with how European conservatives, such as Metternich, kept conservative options alive in a revolutionary era. Conservatives like Kissinger because they think he knows how reaction can succeed. He is needed as an ideologue of reaction and status quo in a revolutionary world. 
Can you talk about any future projects you’re working on? 
I just finished writing a book about a war surgeon, Chris Giannou, who worked for the Palestinian Red Crescent organisation as a war surgeon for 12 years and then became head war surgeon worldwide for the International Committee of the Red Cross for several decades. He, like Eqbal, was a very close friend and because of that became a friend of Eqbal. He has served in many killing fields and the book reads like a James Bond novel, but it’s a true story. I have 100 pages written about an African American woman doctor who died at the age of 47 and was the head of social paediatrics in a major hospital in the Bronx New York. She tried to change the shelter system in New York City for homeless women without husbands but with children, and had a welfare practice in Manhattan. She was also a close friend and we grew up together. She was a marvellous person. I also have begun a book comparing Tunisia in the 1920s (an incredible period in Tunisian history) with the period of revolt after 2011, trying to show how the earlier history helped propel the country into a unique place in the Muslim world, being the only country which passed through the so-called Arab Spring and established a democratic society, rocky as it might be. I then will complete my own autobiography, the early parts of which have been published in English in Morocco. After that, who knows? 
Eqbal Ahmad: Critical Outsider in a Turbulent Age is published by Columbia University Press (2015) 
<a href="http://www.the-platform.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/2016/05/Eqbal-Ahmad-Stuart-Schaar-2.jpg"><img loading="lazy" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-12114" src="http://www.the-platform.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/2016/05/Eqbal-Ahmad-Stuart-Schaar-2.jpg" alt="Eqbal Ahmad Stuart Schaar 2" width="350" height="525" /></a> 
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Remembering Eqbal Ahmad: A Conversation with Stuart Schaar

Alasdair Gray&#8217;s new book, Independence: An Argument for Home Rule, pragmatically yet problematically emphasises Scotland&#8217;s polity over Scottish identity in the bid for independence 
 
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On the night of the USA’s 2008 presidential election, I bunkered in my carrel in Bucknell University’s Bertrand Library. It was the best shelter I had from the inconclusive battle cries lobbed on the quad outside: students in support of then-Senator Barack Obama squared against students rallying for Republican Senator John McCain. Change, both sides claimed, was imminent; this election, both camps asserted, was a pivotal moment in American history. From the safety of my carrel, I followed the returns online and panicked: what if this election isn’t the dawn of change but another hour in the long day of the status quo? I opened a new tab in my web browser and booked my flight away from American uncertainty. 
I resolved on Scotland, that myth-steeped and rugged land of my own ancestors, that cradle of philosophy and literature. I would fly out after the semester ended and determine my fate, then, when I set foot on Scottish soil. Scotland would be — for the duration of at least two weeks — my site of intellectual and spiritual refuge. 
My return to the United States was too hopeful by half; a half decade of the Obama Administration’s drone wars and feeble domestic policy are stark indicators that the 2008 election was not the epoch-shifting moment prophesied by his campaign. Regardless of the outcome, the same cannot be said for the 18 September 2014 referendum on Scottish independence, which will affirm Scotland’s identity — as an independent nationstate or a constituent nation in the United Kingdom — for the foreseeable future. 
As an avid reader of independence-minded Scots writers including Robert Burns, Catherine Carswell, Hugh MacDiarmid, and Alasdair Gray, I sympathise with the #YesScotland cause. But, as Gray is quick to remind the readers of his latest polemic Independence: An Argument for Home Rule (Edinburgh, Scotland: Canongate, 2014), this isn’t my vote. “This book,” Gray pronounces, “is written for Scots, by whom I mean anyone in Scotland who will vote in the September referendum to make Scotland a more or less independent nation.” The broader discussion of global Scots culture is of no import here, nor are the millions who self-identify as Scot, despite the accidents of geography, temporality and birth that keep us from our ancestral homeland. Gray remarks that he “will not waste time by discussing Scottish identity, as vague a ghost as the identity of any other millions of people.” 
This tactic is wise, yet ideologically fraught. Gray abandons the political expedient of Scottish identity so as to prioritise the question of how a hypothetical, neutral Scottish polity would operate in opposition to the Orwellian modus operandi of Barack Obama’s America and David Cameron’s Great Britain. Indeed, Gray’s disapproval of the Anglo-American military-industrial complex recurs throughout this slender volume. 
In the first chapter, Gray elegantly stages this confrontation in the confined space of his doctor’s waiting room, where he and the waiting room’s magazines serve as proxies for Scotland and Britain respectively. Gray cringes at the militaristic implications of adverts and job postings in these magazines: “That is how Big Brother now tells smart youngsters: ‘WAR IS PEACE! JOIN US! THE MONEY’S GOOD!” Because we are inured to these subtexts, Gray concludes that the current generation is “a docile lot,” unaware of the human costs of the military-industrial complex. Gray concludes that an independent Scotland is “[o]n my horizon the ray of hope” against the Anglo-American war machines. 
Independence progresses from this waiting-room vignette through a “a brief history in twelve brisk verses” of Britain’s military conquests, before evaluating a legion of explanations for Scotland’s difference from England: geography, intellectual history, political corruption, British bureaucracy and the rejection of prominent Scots (i.e., Sir Sean Connery and Burns expert Elspeth King) from Scottish arts advocacy. Gray’s Independence is a time capsule of Scottish grievances, a scant collection suggesting a more extensive pattern of wrongs. 
However, this volume reaches its emotional apex not in Gray’s glosses of Scottish woes, but in an open letter to Paddington Station’s unknown soldier. This letter stands as a civilian counterpart to Wilfred Owen’s essential Great War poem Dulce Et Decorum Est. Bagpipe music stirs Gray to an epiphany during a remembrance service: “the men named on the monument had been fooled into thinking they were fighting for a better Britain, while those who had died in World War II had certainly fought a wicked system of government.” Such manipulation of soldiers is a manipulation of the electorate. Gray’s forlorn letter to the unknown soldier is a tacit promise that a neutral, liberated Scotland will oppose any injustice. 
Gray readily avows his utopian agenda, which he packages in a wild yet elegant collision of personal essay, lyric poem, national biography, revisionist history, letters, and party platforms. These different façades represent Gray’s strategy for resolving the nascent Scottish nation’s identity crisis: “The problem of every nation,” Gray concludes, “is being governed by folk with a completely different perspective — a different view of life — from those who elect them.” The book’s 13 sections, multiple subgenres, and assimilated voices practice this sensibility. Yet, this experimentation only represents the many guises of Scotland’s electorate, not the visage of a polity. 
So, what is the political face of Gray’s utopian Scotland, this creature in potentia? Gray’s vision is a rough beast left unformed as the country slouches toward the referendum. We cannot acquit Gray for this oversight: Scottish nationalist writings commonly articulate programs for expanding Scots’ influence at home and abroad, as when MacDiarmid advocated for “a rising tide of Scottish national consciousness” through “a thorough-going reconcentration, in our schools and universities and elsewhere, of Scottish literature.” The consequence is that Independence re-deploys the empty rhetoric of party banter: it is a glittering hoard of hoped-for results, without the treasure map of policy. 
Gray admits that he, “a semi-alcoholic, octogenarian invalid[,] was not the kind of politican Scotland needed,” and he advocates for young politicians with “imaginative, independent minds.” Gray does not identify any of these “brave minds,” leaving Scots with First Minister Alex Salmond’s problem-riddled plans for Scotland’s financial system, its stakes in North Sea oil and national security. These gaps shift the spotlight to the polemic’s further inconsistences. Exemplifying this is Gray’s disavowal of Sir Walter Scott’s invented stereotype, “that most Scots were mountaineers who wore tartan plaids” — even as Independence proposes a rigidly masculine history of Scotland that celebrates its great men. With the notable exception of novelist Naomi Mitchison and a glancing reference to his own wife, Gray — like America’s John Adams — has forgotten the women, an unwitting reenactment of Sir Walter at his most misogynistic. 
Gray’s Scotland is defined by its potential, by its difference from America and England. It’s this strange otherness that first drew me to Scotland in 2008, and that entices me still. Like Gray, I too believe in the possibilities still buried in the Scottish earth. But neither this optimism nor Gray’s utopian vision resolves the central question at stake in the referendum: what is Scotland’s identity? The referendum is the first premise in that answer.
<pre>Image from: http://www.thecommentator.com/article/4517/new_blow_to_scottish_independence_bid_as_catalan_leader_admits_secession_from_spain_could_mean_eu_exclusion</pre>