Jessica Carter interviews James Cockayne, Senior Associate at the International Peace Institute.

James Cockayne may have a surname that sounds like an illicit drug, but you shouldn’t get the wrong idea: his career so far has been dedicated to public policy issues spanning peace and justice, organised crime and transnational security challenges. At the moment, he is a Senior Associate at the International Peace Institute, a not-for-profit research and policy development organisation in New York. An alumnus of the University of Sydney, he is a published author and has also worked in war crimes trials in Arusha, Tanzania and Freetown, Sierra Leone. James recently spoke at the launch of The Sydney Globalist’s previous edition, ‘Rethinking Crisis’.

What initially sparked your interest in the field of peace and justice policy?

If I go back far enough, I guess living for a little in Beijing in 1988 when I was about ten years old and then watching the Tiananmen massacre on television in 1989.

Tell us about a typical day at the International Peace Institute.

Today: caught up on emails from Australian Government partners and Europe over breakfast. Spent an hour on the phone with human rights and private security industry lobbyists, developing a strategy to improve the U.S. Department of State’s engagement with the regulation of private military companies. Off shortly to a meeting with UN folk on sexual violence in the Congo. Have to write a paper this afternoon on the impacts of organised crime on democratic governance. Meetings this evening on the impacts of organised crime on peacekeeping.

Can you describe what it was like to work in war crimes trials in Arusha and Freetown?

Eye-opening. My perspectives on what it means to be at peace, and how to ‘render justice’, have been different ever since. I guess I realised how fragile the good life is, and how easily guns and machetes, money and fear can destroy it. I also realised how hard it is to put Humpty Dumpty back together again.

As an author and editor, do you believe that the pen is mightier than the sword?

The pen: no. The truth: yes.

What do you think are the key issues facing international policy makers at the moment?

An increasing sense of loss of control in the face of external forces: climate change, financial crisis, food scarcity, water scarcity, terrorism, the rise of corporations. The danger is that states and governments will react to these risks by pursuing policies of fear and autocratic control, and not by developing partnership-based solutions based on mutual understanding and collaboration. They are much harder to develop and sustain, and rarely win you votes.

I guess I realised how fragile the good life is, and how easily guns and machetes, money and fear can destroy it. I also realised how hard it is to put Humpty Dumpty back together again.

What do you think the future of global security governance looks like?

Messy. Our ideas of legitimacy and authority are going to become much more heterogeneous. Expect more public-private partnerships, more cross-border collaboration, more inter-faith initiatives, and more questions about democratic deficits, cultural relativism and the relevance of humanism.

What advice would you give to any students aspiring to work in public policy one day?

It’s all about audience.

When you retire, what do you hope you will have achieved?

I don’t think my generation will ever ‘retire’. If I contribute one new idea or make one lasting change that reduces others’ suffering, I’ll be happy. It’s easier said than done, though.

Finish these sentences:

My favourite city in the world is … close run between New York and Sydney. They’re very different.

Barack Obama should … engage Russia, China, India and Iran more closely on solutions for Afghanistan.

I wish the Rudd Government would … get serious about climate change.

Peace is … hard.

India … can teach us a lot.

The thing I miss most about Sydney Uni is … the sky.

The thing I miss least about Sydney Uni is … the food options on campus.

If I could time-travel, I would … love to meet Bennelong.

I think Twitter is … well-named.

My ideal Sunday would include … sleeping in as the sun shines, brunch with friends and fam, fresh air and a stretch of the legs, and a good bottle of wine with a home-cooked meal.

When people hear my surname they … usually try not to laugh – until I make it clear I think it’s pretty funny [too].

Jessica Carter and Kelly Royds grapple with how young people can play a part in shaping global environmental solutions.

In September, the Australia Youth Climate Coalition and World Vision Australia banded together to bring young Aussies the Youth Decide vote on climate change.

The vote asked young people to decide what kind of world they want to live in. More than anything else, Youth Decide sent one particularly loud message: it is young people, not politicians, who will live with the consequences of environmental inaction. According to this logic, young people have the greatest interest in saving the planet. The question is, do we have the power to do it?

Michel Foucault once said, “we know very well that it is not those who govern who hold power”. But if power does not reside with those who govern, then where does it lie?

The most obvious response is that in a democracy, the hands of those who govern await the verdict of a voting public. But as voters, and as young people, we too often feel disempowered to effect direct and lasting change.

Between elections, we witness business, non-governmental organisations and various interest groups vying for attention and influence over agendas. Whose agenda and whose attention is sought varies depending on the issue and the group itself. The many possible answers still leave us uncertain as to where power really lies.

As voters, and as young people, we too often feel disempowered to effect direct and lasting change. 

But this question is vital if we want to effect change, and nowhere is it more pertinent to ask than in light of the lack of action we have seen on environmental issues.

In December of this year, nations from around the world will meet in Denmark for the United Nations Climate Change Conference. The conference will not only be attended by nation-states, but also by UN bodies and non-governmental organisations. Collectively, these groups will negotiate and discuss one of the most momentous decisions that confront us: how can we deal with climate change?

Absent from Copenhagen, but implied in the ‘we’, are Australian voters and young people. We might not get a seat at the Conference, but we are still stakeholders in the decision-making process. In the hands of national governments alone it is likely that environmental issues will continue to be sidelined by economic interests, as we have seen in the carbon emissions debate.  Hence, interest groups, individuals and NGOs that advocate alternatives are critical because they have the potential to use power as a vehicle for change, rather than as an incidental product of dominant political and economic structures.

GetUp is the perfect example of an organisation attempting to use power as a tool for action. Disappointed in Prime Minister Kevin Rudd’s failure to live up to his commitment to act on climate change, GetUp has launched a door-knocking and email campaign that hopes to use the next federal election to pressure the Labor government into action. The organisation issued an online survey that found its members are prepared to take their vote away from Labor, the political party popular with Australian youth, if the party does not take action soon. In an interview with The Australian in May, Simon Sheikh, the organisation’s national director, argued GetUp’s campaign channelled the voter’s power in a way the Prime Minister could not afford to ignore: “In the lead-up to Copenhagen, who is he going to listen to? Big polluters or people who voted for him?”

Campaigns like those run by GetUp and Youth Decide realise the potential for young Australians to influence the Government’s environmental agenda.  Part of this strategy is based on a hunch that young people will come together and collectively fight for the environment. 

In splutters and bursts, this is beginning to happen. For example, Act Now, run by the Inspire Foundation, is another online community that aims to create opportunities for young people to change their world. This organisation uses new media to inform and inspire young Aussies to take action on social and environmental issues. It recognises the importance of building a community of young people in order to generate social, political and environmental change.

Both Act Now and Get Up are examples of communities that remain crucial to the environmental movement. They have power because they are creating new channels for change. Here, power is not just a product; it is also a harbinger of change and a tool for mobilisation. In a democracy like ours, Foucault’s definition sticks: power does not automatically reside in the hands of those who govern. Power cannot exist unless there are communities through which to channel it. These communities are continuing to take shape, both online and offline. Young people have the most to lose but we also have the greatest incentive to act: we need to use the power we have and act now to shape environmental solutions, beyond the ones proposed by our Government.

Jessica Carter and Kelly Royds are both in their fourth year of a Bachelor of Arts (Media and Communications) degree.

Charles Crane reviews Thomas Friedman’s

A certain reading experience can be expected from Thomas Friedman’s latest book. Friedman is The New York Times foreign affairs columnist who gained recognition for his books The Lexus and the Olive Tree and From Beirut to Jerusalem, in which he championed globalisation and the effects of international economic modernisation. Readers of his latest work can expect to be regaled by a conversational writing style that is both approachable and anecdotal. Alongside this are several inventive terms, such as ‘überstandard’, a firmly Americanised view of the global stage, and what can only be described as an ideological drive, if not propaganda. Fresh from its acclaim as the 2005 Financial Times and Goldman Sachs ‘Business Book of the Year’ – sharing a short list with Freakonomics and The Search – The World is Flat does not disappoint, at least for the most part.

By saying that the world is flat, Friedman is not contradicting basic scientific fact. He is not trying to say that Columbus was wrong, but rather that, through ever-evolving technological improvements culminating in the near-instantaneous transfer of data across the globe, the world is becoming a more interconnected and equitable place in which to live, and the playing field is being levelled on a global scale. In other words, the world is being ‘flattened’.

Friedman’s research … is taken primarily from the air-conditioned boardrooms of various corporations, the golf courses popular with CEOs, and the corridors of power.

Friedman argues that this ‘flattening’ has taken place in three distinct phases. ‘Globalization 1.0’, which lasted from 1492 until 1800, was an age of discovery that featured the expansion of countries through empires and the opening of trade routes with the other side of the world. In ‘Globalization 2.0’, which began in 2000, companies expanded across borders to create global economic empires in the industrial age. This phase was characterised by the ability to move data, labour and technology, with the rise of trains, aeroplanes, cars, computers and phones. The final phase, ‘Globalization 3.0’, featured a rise in technologies that placed us virtually next door to people thousands of kilometres away, and gave the individual the chance to evolve and carve out a global niche of his or her own.

Particularly of interest to Friedman is the concept of outsourcing. Looking at the explosion of this phenomenon in both India and China, The World is Flat explains how nearly all kinds of work can be moved offshore, in order to save significantly on costs. This includes anything from tax accounting work to restaurant reservations, and even McDonald’s drive-through ordering functions. This is certainly a valid argument, albeit an unoriginal one. All that someone has to do is go down to a local retail outlet and note the endless merchandise that is made in China. However, outsourcing is clearly important in our more interconnected world; Friedman hails it, and the benefits it brings to developing countries, as definitive proof of the success of the free market and of globalisation.

This idealised view sits at the heart of The World is Flat. Friedman’s research, rather than being drawn from interviews with people supposedly helped by the phenomenon of globalisation, is taken primarily from the air-conditioned boardrooms of various corporations, the golf courses popular with CEOs, and the corridors of power that the author seems to frequent. Small wonder, then, that Friedman sees globalisation as the saviour of society.

The author ignores some of the most significant negative effects of globalisation, including the environmental rape and exploitation of developing nations’ resources by the developed world. Nor does he adequately deal with the issue of the offshore relocation of labour from local workers, which leaves domestic workers unemployed. Although certain countries like India and China are benefiting as a whole from increased direct foreign investment, one could argue that the world is less flat than ever before, and that the income gap has widened between nations and individuals. While people in the developing world are being given opportunities to raise their standard of living, the need for foreign investment may become a dependence that will restrain growth potential.

Despite these flaws, Friedman’s book reaches many valid conclusions, and his writing style is exceptionally likeable and engaging. It is certainly worth perusing on a quiet Sunday.

Charles Crane is in his fourth year of a combined degree in Arts and Commerce, majoring in History, Accounting, and Finance.

With Barack Obama in the White House, ‘smart power’ has come to the fore in U.S. foreign policy. Where ‘hard power’ is considered to be overbearing, and ‘soft power’ a liberalist fancy, smart power strikes the politically correct, and internationally successful, balance.

When you have an annual $711 billion military budget, hard power might seem the obvious choice. Hard power involves getting others to do what you want, through force or coercion; here, threats and direct action are prevalent and generate supremacy. Think Jack Bauer in the television series 24. Soft power, on the other hand, is about attracting people to your cause, gathering them around you, and thereby influencing them to do as you please. With his liberal-internationalist background and winning smile, Obama has a natural affinity with soft power. Since his inauguration, he has bounded enthusiastically onto the world stage to win over allies, adversaries and the apathetic.

Smart power is very international-relations-fashionable in 2009. A combination of soft and hard power, smart power essentially involves combining your sweet-talking diplomatic skills and open wallet with your overwhelming military might. This ought to bring others around to seeing your point of view. This year, Obama has shown the world just how ‘in’ smart power is. By using sweeping oratory, a hard-line North Korea policy, and a surge in Afghanistan, Obama has married soft and hard power to great effect.

With his charisma and ambassadorial aplomb, Obama has had great success with conciliatory words in speeches from Ankara to Paris to London to Ghana. In Cairo, Obama took aim at racism and prejudicial stereotypes, and spoke of the hope, peace and prosperity that would arise from greater understanding between the West and the Muslim community. Later in the year, with a dash of Gen Y know-how, he addressed a YouTube video to the Iranian people, complimenting their history and culture, wishing them happiness in springtime celebrations, and advocating a role for Iranians in the international community. With a wink and a smile, Obama has used soft power to charm the Muslim world.

Smart power essentially involves combining your sweet-talking diplomatic skills and open wallet with your overwhelming military might.

But not everything can be sunshine and photo-ops. Obama has continued Bush’s hard power approach to North Korea through the Proliferation Security Initiative and regional weaponisation strategy. Alongside his idealism, Obama supports the central tenet of Morgenthau-style realism. In 2007, in Foreign Affairs, he wrote: “A strong military is, more than anything, necessary to sustain peace.” Indeed, Obama’s Afghanistan policy is predicated upon overwhelming military supremacy, using troop surges and the latest weapons.

Smart power is precisely what it sounds like: the strategic analysis of power maximisation. In some situations, soldiers and tanks are required; in others, sensitivity, an open mind, and foreign aid are indispensable. Leaders who understand this concept benefit from the use of both sticks and carrots. One way or another, the horse will move.

Anna Bennett is in her third year of a combined degree in Law and Arts, majoring in American Studies and Government and International Relations.

My favourite aspect of international law is … its underlying premise that an international rule of law makes a significant contribution to world peace.

As a university student I wanted to … stop the war in Vietnam and attract an invitation to the annual Law Ball.

The real reason I became Dean of the Law Faculty is … to promote a first class internationalist approach to legal education in Australia.

My pet grammar peeve is … the split infinitive.

If I were Prime Minister for the day I would … have lunch with President Hu of China and dinner with U.S. President Barack Obama.

My best law school experience was … studying international law.

I’m always being asked … why I keep working.

The best cure for procrastination is … to be asked: “When do you plan to retire?”

If only I had … more political influence.

My school report usually said … “has potential but needs more discipline”.

Sydney University needs … to develop a clearer strategy for its international and global role.

If I wrote an autobiography, it would be called … It’s All in the Mind.

The hardest thing about writing a book is … spending so much time alone.

If I could live anywhere it would be … Paris.

Young people should be interested in politics because … it so directly affects the lives of all of us.

A gadget I can’t live without is … my wooden lemon squeezer.

I would advise students wanting a career in international law to … ensure they have a solid foundation in core legal subjects and seek every opportunity to work with international organisations.

The Responsibility to Protect, or ‘R2P’, is mostly self-explanatory, if you add a few words.  There are two responsibilities involved: one, for a state, the responsibility to protect one’s own citizens from human rights atrocities; and two, for the international community, the responsibility to intervene when a state cannot or will not protect its population.  Essentially, R2P is a mandate to prevent and respond to atrocities resulting from intra-state conflicts. Obviously, it’s not desirable that State A creates a complete military hullaballoo the minute it appears that State B is not protecting its population adequately, so there are a few ground rules.

1. It’s got to be really dire. National authorities must ‘manifestly fail’ to protect their citizens in order for the international community to step in. Failing to protect your citizens means committing or failing to prevent things like genocide, war crimes, ethnic cleansing, and crimes against humanity.
2. Smile first, bomb if necessary. Humanitarian and diplomatic means are where it’s at.  Sanctions can be used if necessary, and military force is an absolute last resort.
3. The United Nations is the world’s friend. The United Nations, by way of the Security Council, gets to decide who is manifestly failing, and who’s going to fix it.  The United Nations will examine each case separately and may ask for a region’s thoughts where appropriate.  Collective action will be at the United Nations’ behest, rather than at the discretion of some fiendish rogue state.

Seems pretty sensible, right? Yes and no. Interfering with state sovereignty is a bit of a grey area. The Treaty of Westphalia rendered it rather less murky in 1648, by making it abundantly clear that each state had sovereignty and autonomy. This “if you don’t invade my country, I won’t invade yours” approach has become an international norm. Unilateral action against a state, as in the case of R2P, violates state sovereignty and is open to abuse. Iraq probably feels the humanitarian intervention grounds used by the United States in 2003 could have used a little more Westphalia and rather less R2P. However, there are certainly cases where failure by the international community to intervene is at best a legal prerogative and at worst an obscene moral and humanitarian catastrophe. Darfur, Somalia and Burma would all benefit greatly from the international community taking charge. Is state sovereignty really worth protecting when such atrocities are taking place?

Anna Bennett is in her third year of a combined degree in Law and Arts, majoring in American Studies and Government and International Relations.

HEADS

The proliferation of American influence is neatly encapsulated by a 1989 statement from the spokesman for former Soviet President Michael Gorbachev: “We now follow the Frank Sinatra Doctrine: I’ll do it my way.”

Imperial behaviour is a necessary fixture in maintaining a civilised world order. In the last century, three serious contenders – the Soviet Union, Nazi Germany and Imperial Japan – vied for the role the U.S. occupies today. The acts that accompanied the U.S. ascendancy to ‘superpower’ status seem positively angelic compared with those of Stalin, Hitler and General Hirohito.

Whilst negative perceptions of America’s quasi-imperial behaviour abound, its actions reflect a benevolent concern for global security. The liberal ideals of Wilsonianism, informed by a sincere desire to free the world from tyranny, prevailed throughout the twentieth century.

At the close of World War Two, America stepped into a deserted playing field in dire need of strong leadership. While the United States’ 700 military bases scattered across the globe could be perceived as a form of imperial coercion, they are the means by which America maintains the social and political stability of the current world order.

Perhaps the negative connotations of the term ‘imperialism’ prove more of a terminological quandary than a substantive one. Considering its overwhelming resources, it is arguably America’s duty alone to safeguard the world. The Bush Administration’s military expenditure budget allowance for 2009 ($711 billion) accounted for 48 per cent of the world’s total military spending.

“Considering its overwhelming resources, it is arguably America’s duty alone to safeguard the world.”

American influence extends beyond the reach of the military, to the economic and cultural spheres. The 1947 Marshall Plan is an example of America’s benevolent peacetime foreign policy initiatives, with $13.3 billion dedicated to post-war European recovery. And just think of the American cultural legacy: Mickey Mouse, Andy Warhol, Microsoft, baseball, and Calvin Klein, to say nothing of rock’n’roll.

Inevitably, constant positioning in the public eye over the decades has fuelled anti-Americanism. This has not been lost on the U.S. Former Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice acknowledges “a new and deadly ideology of hatred that we cannot ignore” and the need to “confront hateful propaganda, dispel dangerous myths, and get out the truth”.

Nor is the Obama Administration unaware of the errors of its predecessors. President Obama advocates a “kinder, gentler America”, working tirelessly to improve international public opinion, with both symbolic gestures (identifying Afghanistan as the ‘right’ war, and Iraq as the ‘wrong’ war) and substantive ones (the closure of Guantánamo Bay).

An imperial-esque America increasingly aware of the repercussions of its actions and its global reputation is certainly ‘a good thing’.

Camilla Green is in her third year of a combined degree in Law and Arts, majoring in History. Geoffrey Winters is in his third year of a combined degree in Law and Arts.

TAILS

Talk of empire reached fever pitch following the invasion of Iraq in 2003, the discussion moving from academic circles into the popular mainstream. The Bush Administration’s consistent denial of empire belied the centuries-old, yet deeply flawed, trope of American exceptionalism. All that was left was to ascertain whether empire was good or bad.

Public outcry, manifested by the greatest anti-war demonstrations since Vietnam, was a testament to the fact that public opinion had swung against the Bush Administration, what with its doctrine of pre-emptive self-defence and the cowboy-in-chief’s if-you’re-not-with-us-you’re-against-us bravado.

If you asked the Iraqis, who matter most, only 1 per cent believe the U.S. sought to foster democracy and peace in the region, whereas 43 per cent believe the invasion was an oil grab.

Moreover, the great cost of the invasion – a hallmark of U.S. ‘hard power’ – proved beyond the pale of even the benevolent and well-meaning empire.  The lives of American troops serving in Iraq, to say nothing of the civilian death toll, was too high a price to pay for freedom and democracy.

Neo-liberals who believe America should be in the business of exporting liberty need only look to the quagmire in Afghanistan or Iraq to see the futility of their quixotic vision.  Democracy-building during the Bush era was a dismal failure.

Enter Obama. As Obamarama gripped the U.S. and then the world, it seemed America was renouncing its claim to global hegemony, or at the very least adopting a less cavalier attitude. The resounding catchcry, ‘yes, we can!’, united a country split by partisan politics. Obama tapped into a growing wave of discontent, a Zeitgeist demanding change – due, in no small part, to the recent failure of neo-imperial foreign policy.

Obama provided a moral facelift. Anti-America slogans were beginning to sound passé. Who could plausibly claim a black man in the Whitehouse would take up the mantle of the White Man’s burden?

Yet this is largely what has happened. Obama’s presidency provided much-needed yet superficial plastic surgery. As one Clinton aide put it, “Obama adopts the Violin model: holding power with the left hand, whilst playing music with the right.” Indeed, Obama has not ruled out using force to protect America’s vital interests abroad, even in circumstances short of self-defence.

Whilst Obama seeks to distinguish himself from the Bush Administration by advocating multilateralism, his philosophy still smacks of American hegemony. And with his approval rating at a sky-high 64 per cent (Bush’s was 62), one can reasonably ask whether Obama can do no wrong. The answer? Yes, he can!

Lewis D’Avigdor is in his third year of a combined degree in Law and Arts.

If I say ‘slum’, what comes to mind? Poverty? Squalor? “Feel-good movie of the year?” Slumdog Millionaire, directed by Danny Boyle, and winner of a Golden Globe, BAFTA and Academy Award for Best Picture, has been marketed as an uplifting and feel-good tale by both the publicity department of Fox Searchlight and various reviewers. Whilst it is hardly a spoiler to reveal that in the end the boy gets the girl, this occurs at the conclusion of a movie that encompasses torture, murder, poverty, scamming, betrayal and abandonment – hardly qualities found in a Disney movie.

The central character of Slumdog Millionaire is Jamal Malik (Dev Patel), an 18-year-old char-wallah from the slums of Mumbai, who is close to winning the Indian version of the quiz show Who Wants to be a Millionaire. He is on the show so that his one true love, Latika (Frieda Pinto), can find him. Accused of cheating before he can answer the final question, Jamal takes us (and the police) on a journey through his life to explain how he knew the answers to each question. For example, when asked, “In depictions of the god Rama, he is famously holding what in his right hand?”, Jamal answers with information sourced from the anti-Muslim riots in his slum that resulted in his mother’s death.

Slumdog Millionaire is a movie that is truly alive. As the camera weaves its way around the gritty slums and well-worn trains of India, the colours leap off the screen. It is definitely worth viewing, if only so that you can develop your own opinions about the many criticisms of the film that have emerged.

“As the camera weaves its way around the gritty slums and well-worn trains of India, the colours leap off the screen.”

Slumdog Millionaire was adapted from a Vikram Swarup novel originally called Q&A. As Shakespeare’s Juliet would say: “What’s in a name?” Well, protests against the word ‘slum’ for a start. For the residents of Dharavi in Mumbai, where the scenes of Jamal’s early childhood were filmed, the use of the word ‘slum’ to describe their homes resulted in a protest of reportedly 2,000 people. One of the criticisms was that Boyle didn’t address the diversity and resourcefulness of slum life. However, to give Slumdog Millionaire some credit, Boyle does try to capture a glimpse of this subculture. In the opening scene alone, police chase through the slum jerks and weave through businesses such as barbers, food stalls, and finally a school.

The Mumbai protest has struck a chord with reviewers, such as Gautaman Bhaskaran from The Japan Times, who have accused the movie of only portraying the criminal underbelly of India. Jamal, his brother Samil (Madhur Mittal) and Latika all grow up in a slum, and are eventually forced into a gang of beggars. Samil ends up working for a gangster, and Latika becomes one of the gangster’s girlfriends.

Slumdog Millionaire is fictional, and is, furthermore, an attempt to tell one man’s story. It does not reflect a universal experience. But not to worry! The emergence of reality tourism gives you the chance to make up your own mind about Slumdog’s portrayal of slums.

Reality Tours and Travels conduct tours of Dharavi in order to dispel the negative image of slum life. Or, if that doesn’t go far enough, you can follow the example of one Australian family and permanently move to a Mumbai slum. The Sydney Morning Herald reported that Mark and Cathy Delaney have lived in shanty towns in Delhi for 13 years in order to learn from the poor and experience slum life. Mark called it a “radical detox” from consumerism.

Slumdog Millionaire is not the first representation of Mumbai’s slums in Western pop culture. In his semi-autobiographical novel Shantaram, Geoffrey David Roberts tells of moving to a Mumbai slum, partly to escape the Australian police. But I wouldn’t read it if you are looking to avoid representations of India’s criminal underbelly. Roberts ends up working for a gangster, too.

Slumdog has also been accused of glamorising poverty and slum life, a charge that slum tourism surely doesn’t help. Poor Danny Boyle can’t seem to win – anything except an Oscar, that is.

Lauren Whybrow is in her fourth year of an Arts (Media and Communications) degree.

In early July, Anwar Ibrahim, Malaysia’s main Opposition Leader, was confident that his coalition could form government in the coming months. This would have been momentous in a country ruled by the same coalition, the Barisan Nasional, since its independence in 1957.

However, within days, Anwar was arrested by armed, balaclava-clad police on charges of sodomising an aide.

A decade earlier, Anwar faced sodomy and corruption charges after being ousted as Deputy Prime Minister by the then Prime Minister, Dr Mahathir Mohamad, and after accusing the incumbent Barisan Nasional coalition of corruption. After being beaten during interrogation, Anwar was gaoled for 15 years and banned from politics until 2008. However, he was released in 2004 when the sodomy conviction was overturned.

This time around, the Opposition has even stronger evidence that the charges against Anwar are politically motivated. The Malaysian press has obtained pictures of the aide meeting with the staff of senior government ministers. The charges also coincide with the lapse of the ban on Anwar’s participation in politics.

After being released on bail, Anwar was successful in the August 26 parliamentary by-election in a Penang seat vacated by his wife, Wan Azizah Wan Ismail, who described the charges as “political murder”. Though Anwar missed a self-imposed deadline on September 16 to challenge the Malaysian government, he continues to stress that he has enough support from defecting members of the governing coalition to give the Opposition a majority government. Anwar has called for an emergency session of parliament during the Ramadan recess to seek a no-confidence vote, a call Abdullah seems determined to ignore. Behind this continuing political uncertainty remains the spectre of Anwar’s criminal trial.

“Anwar’s trials are emblematic of Malaysia’s pseudo-democratic political system.”

Anwar’s trials are emblematic of Malaysia’s pseudo-democratic political system. The Malaysian Government is an example of what political scientist William Case describes as a “hybrid regime”. The regime seeks to perpetuate its power by manipulating key institutions and undermining civil liberties while holding regular elections. The Barisan Nasional has, as Case calls it, a “menu of manipulation” from which to choose to legitimate and sustain its position as the single dominant party. Barisan Nasional’s ability to use the police and judiciary for partisan political purposes has been critical in its attempt to discredit the Opposition and retain power.Badawi’s perceived failure to fulfil his 2004 election promise of economic reforms to assist the poor dealt the Barisan Nasional a considerable blow in the March 2008 general election. It was a key reason for significant swings towards the newly formed Opposition coalition, Pakatan Rakyat. For the first time since 1969, Barisan Nasional failed to retain the two-thirds majority required to make changes to the Constitution.

The Pakatan Rakyat coalition now controls five of the 15 states in Malaysia, up from just one state held by the former opposition coalition in the 2004 election. In this election, the Barisan Nasional won only 85 out of 165 parliamentary seats, slightly more than half of the seats in mainland Malaysia. With systemic malapportionment and gerrymandering in electoral districts, a question to ponder is whether the Barisan Nasional might actually have lost the election without such electoral manipulation.
With the Pakatan Rakyat now in a much stronger political position, it will be even more difficult for the incumbent Barisan Nasional to draw more deeply on the “menu of manipulation” to restrain the grievances of the Malaysian public. Furthermore, the ability of the Barisan Nasional to control the media has been undermined significantly by the growth of Internet media, especially independent online news outlets and the expansion of the blogosphere.

The international reaction to the arrest of Anwar was swift, and condemned the charges. The International Crisis Group attacked the arrest as “obviously politically motivated” and the U.S. State Department voiced “serious questions and concerns”. Of particular concern is whether the Malaysian model of politics is sustainable. How much longer can the BN claim legitimacy of its political stranglehold by holding regular, but not fair, elections?

In recognising that hybrid regimes are more resilient today than hard authoritarianism, Case argues that political change can result from short-term factors that galvanise societal grievances into coherent opposition against the incumbent Government. Transitions to democracy in the Southeast Asian region have also been driven more forcefully by protestors than by voters, such as in the case of the Philippines and Indonesia. Concerted voter opposition will play a central role in determining the likelihood of the Pakatan Rakyat forming government. The decisions of Barisan Nasional MPs on whether to commit to their signalled defection will be critical too.

While Anwar is still a polarising figure in Malaysian politics, it is clear that the Barisan Nasional’s efforts to fragment an Opposition of unprecedented strength are politically perilous. The trials of Anwar also highlight the need for continuing judicial reform. Despite their resilience, Case highlights that hybrid regimes can be changed. The Barisan Nasional is losing its ability to draw more deeply on the “menu of manipulation” on which its fate, and that of Malaysia’s hybrid regime, hangs. And the Opposition voices continue to become louder, signalling a shift in the balance of power over which the Barisan Nasional has little control.

Lisa Cantlon is in her second year of a combined degree in Law and International Studies , majoring in Government & International Relations.

Lillian Morrissey explores the politics of underground electronic music.

Midnight, July 13. Creeping out of the semi-darkness of the industrial outskirts of London is a deep, repetitive beat. Embedded in a neon spectacle of lights and movement, I can see more clearly with every advancing step, tucked under a highway underpass between a canal and a vacant lot. Cars pass overhead, entirely unaware of what is happening beneath them. The highway becomes a division between different worlds: the underground psytrance party below, the rest of society passing by unaware. What, exactly, is the relationship between the two?

Played at ‘raves’, ‘squat parties’, ‘warehouse parties’, ‘bush doofs’ and ‘open airs’, underground electronic music – electronic music that exists outside of mainstream club culture – is generally explored in alternative settings that avoid the legal and commercial confines faced by legitimate for-profit music venues. The ‘rave scene’ is in fact an eclectic range of underground electronic music communities. By avoiding mainstream venues, these communities provide themselves with greater freedom in terms of music, drug taking, artistic expression, and behavioural norms.

“Underground electronic music … is generally explored in alternative settings that avoid the legal and commercial confines faced by legitimate for-profit music venues.”

But what is the ‘politics’ behind what may seem like simple music? Hal Foster, author of Recodings, considers the ‘rave’ to be one example of the individualism, hedonism and escapism of modern amusement. From this perspective, underground electronic music culture represents a retreat from wider society in the pursuit of superficial and apolitical distraction.

According to one Toronto raver, it is simplistic to assume that all those who attend raves do so for political motives. “The rave is not just one thing.” Some people attend “to have a spiritual experience”. Others are there merely “to have a good time”.

However, in a society where experience is controlled through regulatory and social norms, creating a community that exists outside of that and is able to be more than ‘one thing’ to each participant is in itself a political move, whether intentional or inadvertent.

Lillian Morrissey is in her third year of an International Studies degree, majoring in Government and International Relations.