Soul Makossa (No. 1)

Development assistance / humanitarian aid not bombs

Apparently the global financial crisis is forcing governments in the rich world to scale back aid to the poor world. No doubt military budgets will be next.

Two loves lost

This year I lost two loves. Here's how I'm gunna remember them.

Marty and I took my Torana up the Pacific Highway. Melinda was a good mate and we hadn't seen her since school. We went out and silly. Late, huddled in front of the CD player, I fondled a couple of unknown CDs.

Newcastle Uni had introduced her to a funny little band called the Lucksmiths. She'd bought a few CDs, raved about their live shows.

Back then I could drink, and I sat up doing so after the gang went to sleep. Perched in front of the stereo, I plucked "A Good Kind Of Nervous" from its cover and gave it a spin. A track called "Under the Rotunda" won me over. In the morning I was found with the CD sleeve in my hand.

A few years later I was lucky enough to interview one of the fellas from the band for a student paper. "You boys aren't too well known in western Sydney, so how would you describe your sound?"

"Imagine you're walking on the beach. The sand is cool between your toes, the sun is warm on your shoulders. There's a dog chasing a frisbee along the sand. Overhead there's an aeroplane and behind it there's a banner that reads, 'I love you!' That's what we sound like."

That's how I remember The Lucksmiths.

We were in Nakuru, Kenya. A break from Nairobi and the madness that was Vasco's time in Somalia.

I'd downloaded the last couple of Grods podcasts and brought them along.

I remember sitting out on the little balcony listening to the boys. They were just talking shite, nestled in some Melbourne pub. Giggles, puns, in-jokes, nonsense. I didn't know 'em, they didn't know me. But the sounds made it seem so close. It was liking being there, having mates around me.

At a rough old time it was so fucking valuable. The connection was more important than I can describe.

That's how I remember the Grods gang.

I'm "home" now. The Luckies have called it a day and the Grods lads have hung up their boots. And it's only with their passing that I've realised what they meant to me. A band and website.

Tweeting through the fog of war

The revolution in military affairs - where communications and other technologies changed the face of warfare - failed to lift the fog of war. There is still uncertainty, misinformation, confusion. Communication technology does, of course, allow the fog of war to be penetrated in new ways, creating opportunities to obtain information and conduct interpretation and analysis. This isn't just about satellites, radars, and unmanned aerial vehicles. A communications technology that's cutting into the fog of war today is Twitter.

Twitter's fog-penetrating capabilities were displayed overnight when a series of violent incidents occurred in Kandahar, southern Afghanistan. Independent journalist Alex Strick van Linschoten, who lives in Kandahar, captured the events in a string of tweets:



While Strick's information would soon be available elsewhere in the media, his tweets were Valuable for a couple of reasons. First, he's an "on the ground" source. Second, his communication is immediate. Further, when other sources began to report on the issue, followers of Strick's tweets were able to compare and assess the information being presented. For example, when Al Jazeera reported on the event its Twitter feed read:



No, replied Strick:



Another journalist, Michael Yon, is also in Kandahar. A little while after the initial attack was reported, Yon tweeted:



Strick replied to Yon, saying that he was on his balcony and hadn't heard any explosions. Interestingly, Yon's next tweet said that he was up on his roof watching events.

For an Afghanistan watcher, all of this tweeting is important for two main reasons. First, it provides a range of viewpoints based on immediate first-hand experience, and these act as a counterweight to mainstream or official reporting. That is, it helps us work out exactly what's going on. Second, the fact that there are contradictory reports from people who are actually there gives us some sense of what the "fog of war" is really about. In other words, it demonstrates why it's so bloody hard to work out what's actually going on. For those who have studied war but have been fortunate enough not to have experienced it, this is invaluable.

Bloggers of all stripes have voiced their opinions on Twitter of late. To those who see all the tweeting as a white wall of irrelevant noise, I'd reply that exchanges of tweets like those reproduced here demonstrate that Twitter, and the communication it enables, is far more important than they give it credit for. Just as communication media are needed to cut through the fog of war, so too is a discerning eye needed to cut through the white noise of Twitter in order to find information that holds value to the individual reader. I've found the value in tweets and I'm not turning back.

Iranian weapons in Afghanistan

A regular feature of media coverage of the war in Afghanistan is the claim that the insurgent groups are obtaining weapons from Iran. There are some stories of this type doing the rounds now and I have a few doubts about them. These sorts of accusations are difficult to prove. There are many ways that weapons of Iranian-origin could end up in Afghanistan without the involvement of the Iranian government. A cynical observer might see the claims as politically motivated. The US and its allies have plenty of reasons to make accusations of this sort against Tehran.*

But there is also the possibility that the insurgents themselves are flinging propaganda around. Last year, for example, a "Taliban commander" suggested that the insurgency's favourite mine was an Iranian-made weapon known as the "Dragon". International weapons experts have never heard of it. Further, it is known that many if not most of the mines deployed by the insurgents are home-made, which is why the term "improvised explosive device" is so widely used today.

The primary source of weapons for the insurgency is likely to be Pakistan. This is not necessarily an accusation against the government of Pakistan. The border, as we are often told, is "porous". Bomb-making materials are household items like cooking pots, bags of fertiliser, and motorcycle batteries. The insurgency employs a network of buyers, sellers, and intel-gatherers to obtain the materials it requires. Perhaps this is one reason why the Taliban would be happy to see NATO and US forces off chasing imaginary Iranian smugglers a few hundred miles away.

* It may also be worth asking why we hear so much about Iranian weapons but relatively little about the Chinese ones, like those shown in recent official images.

Benga

I knew the sound well. On lazy Sunday afternoons as I wandered in and out of Dagoretti pubs, chatting with locals and sinking Tuskers, it was the omnipresent soundtrack. Ample bottoms would shake, grins would spread, voices would rise.

It was danceable, singable, and - to the untrained ear (that is, mine) - extremely repetitive. I came to love it. My memories of Nairobi vibrate with its rythyms. Go on, have a taste.