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Money matters: Black Gold and Yellow Gold
Graham Macdonald
MBMG International Ltd.
We like Philip Coggan, investment editor of the FT. Not only
was he one of the first writers to identify the exceptional risk reward
characteristics of the diversified approach taken by our core managers, Miton
Optimal but he generally writes thoughts provoking and well-informed pieces.
The latest of which to catch our eye was an article this week about commodity
investment. Coggan quite rightly identified that this has been driven by a move
from structural bear to structural bull market in commodities alongside a
conviction that institutional investors should be diversifying away from
equities and bonds, and into alternative assets.
Coggan believes that this has been a profound change which has altered the
characteristics of the market.
Traditionally, futures prices have been lower than spot prices; a state known as
backwardation. This is because more producers want to hedge their future output
than consumers want to lock in prices many months ahead. Indeed, consumers have
been willing to pay a premium to get immediate delivery.
Keynes noticed this structure and argued that investors could exploit it; they
would be paid a premium for providing liquidity to the market, by buying the
future and holding the contract until its price rose to equal the spot rate.
This is called the “roll yield” and has been put forward as a good reason for
holding commodities, since it is a diversified source of return.
But the surge of institutional money into the sector has altered its
characteristics. The futures prices of some commodities (notably oil) are higher
than the spot, a state known as contango. The roll yield is negative. Does that
mean the attraction of commodities has diminished?
Not according to Matthew Schwab of AIG. He has looked at commodity price data
over the period July 1959 to March 2006 and has found that periods of negative
roll yield have delivered higher average monthly returns (0.87 per cent) than
those with positive roll yield (0.22 percent).
This is because Schwab argues that the roll yield is not the source of the
premium Keynes identified. Instead, futures prices are lower than the expected
spot price; in other words, if investors expect the spot price for natural gas
will be $11 in December, the price on the December futures contract will be $10.
Provided the futures price remains at a discount to the expected spot, Schwab
argues that it does not matter whether the roll yield is positive or negative.”
That makes sense - in a static market that results in backwardation - in a
rising market it means a contango. And why wouldn’t properties be subject to the
same inflationary pressures as other materials - in fact the scarcity and
non-renewability of sources of supply of most commodities means that commodity
price inflation should, under normal conditions be rampant.
OK, there are some question marks - we don’t even know how oil is produced. We
have still less of an idea of how much of it is out there or how we might be
able to extract it. Finally, we’re clueless about future demand and what might
drive that. However, our prevailing attitudes to oil price have been that we
can, for the foreseeable future, easily extract more than we can indefinitely
consume - politics allowing.
The markets were so consumed with that idea that when the spot price of oil
broke through $50 last year there was still backwardation in place to the extent
that oil for delivery in 2015 was some 10% cheaper. At the time we said that
anyone who could afford to potentially lock up capital for 10 years could do a
lot worse than buy those futures. We’re certainly wishing that we’d put more of
our money where our mouths were.
The yellow stuff is also a conundrum. Unlike money in a bank, it does not give
you anything back. If you have an interest rate of seven percent then you will
double your money every ten years via compound interest, although, admittedly
this may not cover inflation. If you keep gold for ten years then you have no
idea where it will be ... or do you?
If, however, as they have been recently, interest rates were very low which
would you prefer to keep - gold or paper money? Most would go for the former as
it is a tangible object. Governments can produce as much paper as they like.
They cannot do this with gold. There is not an endless supply of the latter. In
fact, it is very limited. Warren Buffet, the Sage of Omaha, could buy all the
gold mined in one year with a single cheque. Despite more investment going into
gold now than has done for the last thirty years people cannot get enough of it.
Usually, when interest rates are high then gold does not do as well. When they
are low then gold does better. There are anomalies to this. For instance, in the
1970’s interest rates were high in the Western hemisphere but gold still managed
to go from USD100 per oz. to USD800 per oz. This was because inflation was also
factored into the equation.
As an example, let’s say the things you buy go up 5% per annum through inflation
and you are getting 5% in your savings account then the real interest rate is
actually zero. So, when in 1979, with interest rates at 8% but inflation at 13%
it is not exactly surprising that people went to gold rather than paper as
interest rates were actually minus five percent for the year.
By 1981, the Fed had managed to change things around and interest rates were at
15% whilst inflation was at 6%. A year later gold was down under US400 per oz
again.
Let’s look at things today. Interest rates are around five percent again.
Inflation is also around this figure. The Fed has said it has basically done
with raising rates any more. Real interest rates are dangerously close to
negative territory again and more and more money is going from cash to gold.
Yes, there will be short term volatility but gold should be part of a portfolio
as it can counter the volatility caused by any equity holdings.
So, which ‘gold’? Both!
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The above data and research was compiled from sources believed to be
reliable. However, neither MBMG International Ltd nor its officers can accept
any liability for any errors or omissions in the above article nor bear any
responsibility for any losses achieved as a result of any actions taken or not
taken as a consequence of reading the above article. For more information please
contact Graham Macdonald on [email protected]
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Snap Shots: Buying a digital
by Harry Flashman
A friend of mine is going to Japan and wants to record the trip he is
taking with the family. Atmospheric shots of Mt. Fuji, no doubt, plus
countless shots of his daughter in Disneyland or Disneyworld or
whatever. He approached me and asked for my advice in buying a camera.
This was not a difficult problem to handle.
 Right
from the start I knew it should be a compact camera and not an SLR. Why?
Principally because my friend is not the slightest bit interested in
photography. Sell him the idea that he should take one camera body with
all the modes, including manual over-ride (and the instruction book),
and a couple of lenses is a waste of time. Why? For this man an
automatic everything makes much more sense. A compact which is small
enough to put in his pocket, and has all the capabilities that he will
ever need to get family travel album shots. Point and shoot is the name
of the compact game.
With compacts becoming more and more sophisticated, just what should you
look for in your purchase of a compact? For my money, the deciding
factor is still in the lens. No matter how fancy the electrogizmos
inside, if there is a rotten piece of glass up front, you will get lousy
quality photographs. The good quality lenses come from the good quality
manufacturers. If you’ve never heard of the camera and it is very cheap,
then there’s every chance its got a cheap and nasty lens too. Like
everything, you get what you pay for! Most of the better brands have
lenses that go as wide as f 2.8, and you won’t go wrong with that.
After that, what else should you look for in a compact? Well Autofocus
(AF) is important these days, rather than fixed focus as some very cheap
cameras have. You should also look for an integrated flash unit that can
be turned off, as well as able to be turned on for use in daylight.
Other options such as date imprinting, are for my mind anyway, just a
nuisance, but one option that should be explored is that of a zoom lens.
Now while most compacts have a very limited “zoom” range, it is still a
useful thing to have in your camera. Many times the subject is just that
little bit too far away, and the ability to bring it a little closer is
invaluable.
Now I haven’t mentioned the digital versus film debate. Today in this
section of the market there is no contest. A digital compact beats the
old film compacts hands down. Smaller, more functions and amazing
capabilities. I have to admit that I often use our family compact
digital, (which is small enough to slip in my pocket) just because it is
so convenient. Particularly for the kind of shots my friend will take in
Japan.
So what should he look for? A camera from a known brand with at least 4
megapixels capability. A zoom lens, and get the biggest memory
stick/card that will fit in. I will suggest he gets two – one of 256 kb
and the other 512 kb. That way you will have a back-up and not be left
trying to delete items from the card when you have filled it, when there
are still more shots to take. Getting Mickey Mouse to continue to stand
there while you fiddle around scrolling and deleting does not bear
thinking about.
Another factor to be taken into consideration is the size of the viewing
screen at the back. Get the biggest you can. It makes life easier when
you are composing the shot, and finally make sure it has a brightly
visible focusing beam so you can see what you are taking when it is
dark.
All that lot will set you back between 10 and 20 thousand baht, and I
suggest you look at Canon Ixus, Nikon Coolpix and Fuji Finepix for
starters. By the way, you will also find that whatever you buy today
will be superseded tomorrow and it will be cheaper too. That’s just one
of the ironies of life. Our Ixus 40 cost 20,000 baht two years ago, and
the new Ixus 65 can be purchased for around 15,000 baht today!
Modern Medicine: Siamese Twins
by Dr. Iain Corness, Consultant
Siamese twins are always newsworthy, and with the advances in
surgical techniques, the little babies have a greater chance of independent
survival.
 The
incidence is about 1 in 400,000 births, though it is difficult to get exact
figures. Stillborn Siamese twins have been disposed of and the mothers not
told of the anatomical problems. In Russia there was the case of conjoined
twins that were kept in a pediatric institution and the mother told they had
died at birth. Much superstition is still evident today.
The major deciding factor in their prognosis is where the joining is, and
how many common organs are shared. The most common varieties encountered are
joined at chest and abdomen (28 percent), joined at chest (18.5 percent),
joined at abdomen (10 percent), parasitic twins (10 percent) and joined at
the head (6 percent). Of these, about 40 percent were stillborn, and 60
percent liveborn, although only about 25 percent of those that survived at
birth lived long enough to be candidates for surgery.
Despite the name, Siamese twins can occur in any country, but the most
publicized conjoined twins did come from Siam. They were called Chang and
Eng Bunker, born in the Mekong valley of a Chinese father and a Thai-Chinese
mother in 1811. The surname came later after they had lived in America for
some time, as in 1811 Siamese people did not use any family name.
In 1829, they were discovered in old Siam by British merchant Robert Hunter
and exhibited as a curiosity during a world tour. Such was the fate of
anyone who had some deformity in those days, and live adult Siamese twins
would have been very rare, with most never making it through to adult life.
Chang and Eng were joined at the sternum by a small piece of cartilaginous
tissue. Their livers were fused but independently complete. Although 19th
century medicine did not have the surgical know-how, modern advances in
surgical technology would have easily allowed them to be separated today.
Upon termination of their contract with their discoverer, they successfully
went into business for themselves, which is really quite amazing,
considering their origin in rural Siam. In 1839, while visiting Wilkesboro,
North Carolina, the twins were attracted to the town and settled there,
becoming naturalized United States citizens.
With their world tours, they had become wealthy and they settled on a
plantation, bought slaves, and adopted the name “Bunker.” They were accepted
as respected members of the community. On April 13, 1843, they married two
sisters: Chang to Adelaide Yates and Eng to Sarah Anne Yates. Chang and his
wife had ten children; Eng and his wife had twelve. Unfortunately, the
sisters squabbled and eventually two separate households were set up just
west of Mount Airy, North Carolina - the twins would alternate spending
three days at each home. During the American Civil War Chang’s son
Christopher and Eng’s son Stephen both fought for the Confederacy. The twins
died on the same day in 1874.
One of the earliest documented cases of conjoined twins are Mary and Eliza
Chulkhurst, also known as the Biddenden Maids. Born in 1100, the sisters
lived for 34 years in Biddenden, County of Kent, England. Mary and Eliza,
though often depicted as joined at the hip and shoulders, were likely joined
at the buttocks and lower backs. After the death of one sister, doctors
hoped to save the life of the other by separating them surgically; however,
the surviving twin refused, declaring, “As we came together, we will go
together.” She died several hours later. Upon their deaths, a local church
received 20 acres of land. In remembrance of their generosity, small cakes
and biscuits imprinted with the image of the sisters were given to the poor
every Easter Sunday. Nearly 900 years after their deaths, the Biddenden
Maids are still honored by this unique service.
Siamese twins elicit very intense responses, with the ethics in separating
them still being discussed. If it is a simple surgical situation, then the
conflict is not as great as to when there may be shared organs, making it
such that one twin would have to be sacrificed for the other, but if an
operation is not done, both will die. A moral dilemma.
 Heart to Heart with Hillary
Dear Hillary,
I enjoy your column. My only criticism is there is not enough and not often
enough. These letters and your replies are lessons in life. Many writers
seem to feel that they have a unique situation and that it can only happen
to them and this location. These letters could be multiplied by as many
countries as there are in the world. Many I feel should feel lucky that they
lose a few amounts of money. In many areas there is a scam called “marriage”
that can strip one of not only their funds, but their property, and future
funds (dependent on the laws of the country). I feel you are providing a
service and advice that could well be appropriate around the world. The wise
“petal” would do well to have a laugh, but remember some of your words of
wisdom. There is a deeper message.
Grateful student
Dear Grateful student,
I sort of get the feeling that there is a “deeper message” in your letter
too, my Petal. Are you still bitter after a divorce? In many western
countries the man does not fare well, does he, as he farewells all his money
and everything he had worked for. However, I do believe there are some
aspects of the man-woman relationships in this country that seem more
prevalent than in the west. You do not often hear of tourists to the UK
deciding to buy the barmaid at the Chicken Plucker’s Arms a Triumph
motorcycle after he had a few pints of bitter on his first night, do you. A
kind of bitter after-taste, I suppose! However, thank you for the kind words
and I’ll talk to the editor about giving me more pages!
Dear Hillary,
It’s hard to believe some people, that letter from “Genuinely Concerned” and
his supposed “Real Problem”, surely he lied about his age, I would have
thought he was aged 12 not 22! Fancy not realizing his “Girl” would want to
have her daughter living with her. He must be so naive, enough said I guess.
As for “Harry the Helmet”, his helmets must be gold plated I reckon!
Everyone leaves their helmet in the basket, never worrying about it being
locked up or stolen. I’m an old guy and getting a bit forgetful, I’ve lost
track of the times I’ve left the key in the ignition of my bike, I usually
return to find someone nearby running up to me with the key they had taken
for safe keeping. I have never met such honesty as I have in Thailand, I
will write a book one day about my experiences, (well, not all, wink wink
nudge nudge)! Seriously though Hillary, you know from my previous letters
how much I Love Your Country and its people. In another country “Harry the
Helmet” would return to find not only his helmet gone, but the bike also!
Delboy
Dear Delboy,
You obviously don’t live in Pattaya, do you Petal, as helmet-theft is rife
down there, where there are only 500,000 motorcycles and 250,000 helmets.
Since the local boys in brown do check for the wearing of same, as opposed
to Chiang Mai, those who are lightheaded apply the five finger discount test
before venturing outside. It is the law of supply and demand, though in this
case, it’s demand and supply. Shopping center car parks are an endless
source of supply, and so much cheaper than buying them at a bike shop! Mind
you, many of the helmets look as if they would double for an ice cream
container, they are so flimsy. Perhaps they are ice cream containers that
are later used as helmets after the vanilla and strawberry has been eaten?
Nothing would surprise. Finally, I should caution you about the key left in
the ignition on your motorcycle. I know you are impressed with the honesty
of the majority of Thais you have met, but there is a minority who would be
happy to ride off to Cambodia on your motorcycle. A glance at the first few
pages of this newspaper will soon reveal this.
Dear Hillary,
What do you do about your husband drinking too much? He has a drink after
work every day, drinks with dinner and then drinks after dinner at home, or
goes down the pub with his mates. This is surely too much? He can’t be doing
himself much good with all this drinking. Please don’t suggest I go drinking
with him as I do not drink.
T-Total
Dear T-Total,
You’ve got it all wrong, my petal! Hillary doesn’t have a husband, so I
don’t do anything! I sent the last one packing years ago – but it wasn’t for
drinking after dinner. If you’re worried about hubby’s health, then get him
to go for a check-up. If you’re worried about what he’s doing while out
drinking, then go with him. Nobody said you have to drink alcohol. All of
the pubs Hillary has a quiet one in also sell orange juice and soft drinks.
Honestly, I think you are the one with the problem, my love. Time to lighten
up and look at your own attitudes, darling.
Beyond the Beach: La Dolce Vita
Caspian Pike
“Beyond the Beach” continues to surprise and delight. This week, from
Pattaya beach, Andrew Watson is magically transported to St Peter’s in Rome,
where with characteristic swagger, he takes in some of eternal city’s most
celebrated landmarks. It’s as if he can’t believe his luck; he has found
himself in Rome and is so enthralled that he is determined to drink in as
many of the extraordinary sights, sounds and smells as quickly as possible,
just in case it really is a dream.
Andrew
Watson and ‘Beyond the Beach’ in Italy; La Dolce Vita
It’s been some years since I was last inside St Peter’s basilica but
watching the programme I was pleasurably reminded of the Vatican’s powerful
sense of tradition, grandeur and history in an almost theatrical setting of
brilliant light and massive space. Sometimes, words aren’t necessary and the
PMTV production team acknowledges this with beautiful simplicity by adding a
sumptuous soundtrack. There’s clearly a great amount of teamwork involved on
BYB which betrays a real understanding of what is creatively possible
through the medium of television. Moreover, as ever, the editing is skilful
and imaginative and continues to be respectful to both the nature of the
series and the subject of the show. In short, it’s easy and fun to watch.
Basking in the afterglow of Italy’s world cup success in the Piazza di
Popolo, Watson strips off his relatively formal attire to reveal a replica
Italian football shirt with a difference; the name across his back is a pun
on one of the Azzuri’s star players. He chats to a couple of people living
and breathing ‘La Dolce Vita’. “When in Rome, wear as the Romans wear”
Watson quips, as he meanders through the marvellously colourful streets, via
the Spanish Steps and the Fontana di Tivoli, to the Café Giolitti, a
restaurant of repute and the quintessence of Roman Café society. The
Gelataria within is a kaleidoscope of temptation, to which Watson happily
succumbs.
As the programme continues its course, it’s like walking through history.
The Pantheon is a symbol of Rome’s greatness; a place where monumental
concepts of architecture and aesthetics are as one. Looking down from the
heights of the Vittorio Emmanuelle monument, the vista of the forum with the
Colosseum in the distance is sensational. But our host is getting tired
(it’s hot) and he’s started pining for the cooler climes of Umbria, to the
north. Anybody who’s seriously done the ‘tourist’ thing around a major city
in mid-summer will be able to empathise with Watson. There’s a conundrum to
be solved; whether to surrender to fatigue or press on remorselessly with
voracious aesthetic appetite until utterly bloated on beauty.
Watson decides to head for Termini train station as the programme maintains
its gentle impression of surreal adventure. The viewer has the opportunity
to savour some stunning Italian landscape as we head towards the Umbrian
hills. Clearly, as in all the best dreams, Watson wants to keep it going
just a little bit longer.
Catch Andrew Watson’s “Beyond the Beach; La Dolce Vita” on Sunday, at the
following times:
Sophon at 8:00am - Midday - 4:00pm - 8:00pm and Midnight.
Chonburi at 9:40am - 2:00pm - 8:40pm and 40 minutes after midnight.
Jomtien at 9:00am - 12:30pm - and 9:00pm
Sattahip at 8:00am - 1:30pm - 5:00pm - 8:00pm and 11:00pm
A Female Perspective: Some conversations…
with Sharona Watson
I was having something of a clear-out the other day. I’m not a ‘hoarder’ and
I like to throw unnecessary things away now and then. It’s extraordinary how
complete rubbish finds a place to exist. When we were travelling from one
place to another every few years, one of the main benefits was that you had
regular opportunities to shed superfluous items that had lain untouched for
weeks, months and often years. Now that we have settled in Thailand, those
regular trips to charity shops, the dump and to the school in order to
despatch our excess baggage are few and far between. Unless, that is, you
make a deliberate decision to make and take the time to look through those
piles of paper, those cupboards full of general objects and the often
ridiculous bits and pieces in the most unexpected places.
 Divorce
can be a lonely path.
Sometimes, I find an article which means a lot to me and I stop and sit down
with it for a while and have a kind of conversation with it. My husband
would call it a form of procrastination I’m sure, but for me it’s important.
Objects which mean something to us carry with them a part of us and often, a
part of people who might either have given them to us, or been around us at
the time we acquired them. That happens to be the reason that I choose
pictures, paintings and other objects to place around the house. They have
to mean something to me.
I found some old Pattaya Mails stacked up in a cupboard and started flicking
back through them. A bit self-indulgent perhaps, but I prefer to think of it
as self-criticism if I’m looking back over anything I’ve written. Then I
thought, I’ve been talking to so many people, I probably haven’t done them
all the justice their words deserve. So I listened to a few recordings I had
made and I was surprised and felt very pleased that I’d found them again.
A few months ago, I was talking to a handsome and very elegant Scandinavian
man about marriage, one of my favourite subjects, of course. His story was
revealing, honest and very sweet and certainly worth telling. We’ll call him
“Olaf”. He’s been married twice. The first time for twenty five years, the
second time, fifteen years so far. He was twenty six when he first took the
plunge (you can do the math).
In my subtle way, I asked why his first marriage had failed. Olaf’s work in
the oil exploration business took him away much of the time and he found
that he was away more than he was at home. Perhaps it’s a familiar story for
many expats?
Very honestly, Olaf admitted that his wife had wanted more out of life but
he felt that he just didn’t have anything else to offer at the time;
professionally at least, he had to stay with what he was doing. It was an
amicable split; Olaf has retained contact and he continues to meet her
socially, with his second wife.
His first marriage produced two children, so Olaf talks quite regularly with
his first wife and emails, especially when there are family issues. It all
sounds very smooth, almost velvet. Divorce doesn’t have to be angry of
course, but this was verging on the happy.
So was Olaf disappointed when it didn’t work out? “Oh yes, very much so,” he
answered after a contemplative pause. Both he and his wife had put a lot
into the relationship. Quite rightly, he points out that you can’t be
together for twenty five years and not invest heavily, emotionally and
financially. Especially with children, it’s hard work and forms a bond;
clearly not an unbreakable bond. But, “it was kind of sad” says Olaf.
I wondered what Olaf’s expectations had been in entering the marriage
condition all those years ago? Perhaps unsurprisingly, he (and his wife) had
expected to stay together “forever”, just as they had vowed to do in the
church. “It was quite cute, actually,” reminisced Olaf.
But as for a “plan”, there wasn’t one. They just continued with their lives,
he with his job, she with hers; they bought a house, tried to save money
(sounds familiar?). It was a little bit random, Olaf reports, almost
apologetically. I’ve heard of married couples who have five, ten, fifteen
year plans. Good luck to them. I don’t, at least not written down anywhere.
It doesn’t mean I don’t have aspirations like everybody else and dreams
about what could happen. It just means that there are different ways of
approaching living, in all its diversity and variety.
Nonetheless, in his first marriage, it was Olaf who was doing the
travelling, so on reflection, did he feel that there was something
particular missing in his first marriage? He returned to the point about
being away too much. Both his wife’s parents died and he doesn’t feel he was
there to support her in difficult times. His kids were born and he wasn’t
there to share in the pleasure of being with them. In the end, “It was just
too much”.
Sometimes, I suppose, it can be distance between partners that causes them
to break up; on the other hand, it can be distance that keeps them together!
As ever, it’s all a matter of balance. Olaf points out pertinently that even
if he had taken a job at home, there was no guarantee that it would have
worked. He’s clearly come to terms with things and can enjoy looking back at
the good times.
So what did he bring from his first marriage to his second? “Patience,” Olaf
replies, almost immediately. “In the first marriage, maybe I was doing what
I felt was right, too much. Now, I can sit back and think a bit more and
when we do anything, I’m more aware of my wife’s feelings. I don’t think I
was bad at it before, I just think that maybe now I’m a little bit better.”
The voice of experience? Oh perhaps it’s another case of “practice makes
perfect”.
Next week: Practice makes perfect
[email protected]
Learn to Live to Learn: Keeping your Head Up and Down
Andrew Watson in Nahariya, Northern Israel
There’s a joke here in Israel, which is particularly apt at a time like
this. One Israeli asks another; “Are you an optimist or a pessimist?” and
the other responds, “I’m an optimist. I know that today will be better than
tomorrow!”
 The
Israel/Lebanon border.
Mattat is a tiny Israeli town straddling the northern border with Lebanon.
It’s no more than twenty metres from the Lebanese border, perched on top of
a hill. Around me there are craters of varying size bearing the signature of
Hezbollah. There’s a surreal air because the birds are cheeping. Once again,
nature has laid claim to this barren but beautiful landscape. The views over
the dusty brown hills of South Lebanon are panoramic. Minarets pop up like
candles on cakes across the landscape. It’s difficult from this vantage
point to spot the details of the devastation. At last and at least for the
moment, it’s all quiet on Israel’s northern border.
 “The
truth is surely, that today and tomorrow are more important than yesterday.”
What most people around the world wanted to happen, finally happened. The
ceasefire brought respite from the intense suffering of those who have
striven to live in and around Mattat and twenty kilometres north or so
across South Lebanon, towards the Litani River. There is a logic which
suggests that civilians, ‘les innocents’, on both sides, should bunch
together. Their unnecessary suffering is what they have in common. Yet as I
watch Hezbollah celebrating a ‘victory’ that can most generously be
described as ‘macabre’, I am wondering to myself what the South Lebanese
really think and feel. Do they measure ‘victory’ by relative levels of
defeat? Cynics might suggest that Lebanon is well-practised in celebrating
the art of defeat. As a ‘humanist’, I’m struggling to understand how the
last four weeks’ gratuitous destruction and massive loss of life, can
constitute any kind of ‘victory’. With all those bodies littering the
region, the claim is actually, degrading. I find myself wishing that the
residents returning to the remnants of their shattered villages would shake
themselves loose from their torpor, expressed via narrow allegiance to a
group which has admitted using them as shields.
Salim Da’aban, pointing to the entry point of a Katyusha rocket which destroyed
his business in Nazareth.
I had a good friend, a Palestinian Christian, who was ‘mistaken for a Jew’
and murdered ‘in error’ by the Al Asqua Martyrs brigade in Jerusalem, two
and a half years ago. The terrorists apologised whilst a spokesman for Fatah
unilaterally conferred the title of ‘shaheed’ (martyr) on their victim. This
was more than my friend’s mother could bear. “My son is an angel,” she
protested, “Not a ‘shaheed’.
In the Lebanese conflict, I see the same grotesque infamy of a proxy militia
conferring the title of ‘shaheed’ on a thousand unwilling dead. It is as if
they are attempting to extend their morbid influence into another realm. I
wish someone would cry, “leave the dead alone!” The war was a lottery they
didn’t want to play in. They didn’t want a ticket. What chance were they
offered? The number that came up was a thousand dead, three thousand
wounded.
 Praying
in Nazareth; for peace?
In northern Israel, up to half a million refugees have returned to their
homes and are attempting to reclaim the normality of their existence, in
this lost summer. The furrows in between the apple trees are cobbled with
fallen apples, swollen beyond ripeness. Now, the orchards which had become
forgotten worlds will be harvested.
Haifa, the third largest city in Israel, is regarded by many as a model of
co-existence between the three main population groups; Jews and Muslim and
Christian Arabs. The city prides itself on its intercommunal understanding
and mutual respect. Lives dovetail nicely here in many ways. On Friday
evening, when everything Jewish is shut for Sabbath, the only stores open
are Arab. On Thursday evening and Friday (the Muslim Sabbath) and Sundays
(the Christians’), the city adjusts accordingly. Haifa is a physically
impressive city; white stone apartment blocks and austere buildings from the
British Mandate era and before, are cut into the Carmel Mountains
overlooking the port, which stretches around the bay. Gigantic shipping
cranes stand like huge giraffes, guarding the docks.
However, if facades can be impressive, the reality behind them is often
disconcerting. Haifa was targeted relentlessly by Hezbollah, for four weeks.
A trip down Haifa high street reveals a gaping whole, almost a perfect
circle, bashed out of the brow of the main post office at the apex of a
roundabout. A short journey around the tightly packed streets reveals more
ugly evidence of Katyusha strikes. As evening fell at the height of the
barrage, it was clear from the shuttered windows and dearth of lights in
apartment blocks that many of the population had left for supposedly safer
parts of the country.
Speaking with a Christian Arab, it appeared that all was not quite as sweet
between the communities as I had imagined. Ruanne was eager to tell me how
some Christians in Haifa and Christians and Sunni Muslims in Lebanon view
Hezbollah. Many despise them for triggering the war, as opposed to starting
it, for which they blame Israel. They feel that the war was against all of
Lebanon and not just Hezbollah; the number of children that died, Ruanne
told me passionately, was much greater than the number of militiamen.
As much as they didn’t like Hezbollah, they still cheered their ‘victories’
against the Israeli army. Hezbollah, Ruanne told me, is not bent on the
destruction of Israel; rather they are focussed on ‘liberating the Shebaa
farms’. Ruanne chose not to mention that the Shebaa farms was ruled by the
United Nations as long ago as 2000 to be ‘Occupied Syria’, not Lebanon. Yet
Israel, I was informed, is the hypocrite, citing a cross border Hezbollah
raid on July 12 as justification for contorting the conflagration, whilst
she has regularly crossed the border herself by land, sea and air with
impunity, even since withdrawing ‘officially’ from Lebanon in 2000.
I am wondering whether cracks are starting to appear in this ‘model of
coexistence’. Perhaps I’m being naïve in assuming that they weren’t always
there. Maybe, the Katyusha barrage has blasted away the façade; people here,
for all their bravado, remain tense and maybe, scared. Perhaps it’s the fear
talking.
Back in Mattat, it seemed a strange place to suddenly think of Jose
Mourinho. Nonetheless, in the newly arrived quiet, his words seemed to sum
up a philosophy which embodies some hope at least, for the future here; “The
truth is surely, that today and tomorrow are more important than yesterday”.
Next week: The clash of civilisations.
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