My mum was ill with cancer in South Africa and I posted a note on Cif in one of the discussion threads about her life and my father's.
The next thing, Linda Grant - a regular Cif contributor - got in touch, inquiring about my mum and dad. I am not surprised that she knew them - their lives touched the lives of many.
Mum was in the last stages of cancer. Linda's warmth surprised and pleased her. She even had the idea of writing her life story and Linda offered to help. This cheered her up immensely and she wrote a little beginning called La Petite Madeleine.
But then we had to rush to my mother's side. Those last days as a carer were extremely hard for dad. We arrived at mum's bed less than an hour before she died. Hating her agony, I remember saying: "You can go now, mum." She died about a minute later. Then each of us acted in character. We all cried. Dad said how beautiful she was, Chris checked his watch in the middle of all his pain and said: "1.18" - for the entire world, like a pilot announcing a landing. Andy sobbed uninhibitedly, and I, allegedly, rabbited on about angels and spirits.
Linda wrote my mother's obituary in the Guardian. That helped somehow, and then Linda blogged about her discovery that I was the unidentified commenter known as Ishouldapologise and the son of her long-lost friends. Condolences from Cif readers and sparring partners came pouring in. Boy did they help. Thank you, Linda. Thank you, guys.
This also led to some reflections by Linda - and much discussion among readers - about the nature of online debate and the effect of having anonymous commenters.
"The whole business of online comment renders individuals one-dimensional," Linda wrote. "We know each other only through our ideas as they appear on the screen and this can lead to a tendency to demonise and dehumanise our opponents."
In a later blog she described her attempts to put a real face to the authors of online comments:
"Often I would try to imagine the person behind the opinions. Who did we have here? An embittered old Trot with a couple of bad marriages behind him and a tendency to take a drink or two? Or spotty Tory boy, commenting in his bedroom while he was supposed to be studying for his A-levels? "The problem with Cif was that not only did you not know who someone was, but usually you didn't even know their gender, age, occupation. Was this person commenting on Africa a veteran of the anti-apartheid struggle or a call-centre worker who has read an article on Wikipedia?"
Let me respond to Linda on three levels. First, yes, Cif is a great place to listen to and engage with an incredible, amazing and diverse bunch of people from everywhere and anywhere on this planet. More people should join in and find their voices. More people should be in a position to benefit from the good things the bloggers and commenters have created together here. My family did.
I have come to value Cif as a community. On my mother's death, I could never have anticipated that Cif would come up trumps. As my dad, Tony Hall, said: "It was like a flower opening." So thank you. Your comments go straight into our book of condolences.
Next, on the question of anonymity in political debate, what could Linda be getting at?
Well, let's think. Eliza Manningham-Buller, the former head of MI5, chose a record by the Soweto String Quartet as one of her Desert Island Discs recently. She said that she was given it as a present by the South African security services when she went there for a visit. She was surprised and impressed to see how former Boss agents and ANC cadres worked effectively together, protecting South Africa's interests. Now they are colleagues and friends. Will the day come when former Mossad and PLO operatives do the same? Is it possible that the problem of Israel-Palestine will become tractable when these deadly opponents start to deal with each other as real people, often worthy of respect?
I asked my father, who wrote for and edited London-based Middle East News magazines for six years, for his thoughts on the matter. He goes further than Linda. He told me that there was so much potential for secular and intellectual Israelis and Palestinians to become cousins, and that he was always so sad when the best of Israelis and Palestinians were jailed, picked off or killed - sometimes by their own. My father believes in the pie in the sky of a one-state solution, and I quote him here:
"Even though half the world is still in a state of post-traumatic stress, historically flinching from the horror of the Nazi holocaust against the Jews, and although another half is historically manipulated and discounts the holocaust, and speaks derisively of 'Jews', the only way through, around or past this tragic block is to walk a secular road together, to be clear about who is being manipulated by big powers and why and when and then to work towards that one state that South Africa is today, even though the road is, admittedly so much more difficult. "You cannot fault Jews who say 'No, never again.' It's so much more profound a historical trauma, even more so than apartheid. Nevertheless, the only way across such a rift is to reach out to each other as humans and never to tolerate division for racial or religious reasons. The best of Israelis know that, the best of Palestinians know that. These are the people who will, one day, make the Middle East blossom, not the feudal sheikhs, not the imperial powers and not the manic fundamentalists on either side."
Last point, in answer to Linda on the question of civilised political debate: I do agree with MrPikeBishop to some extent. Gloves off. But should Cif only be a place for the equivalent of a political punch-up in the pub car park after a few pints? I don't think so. Cif is just face-to-face political debate by other means. I know that I don't hold back when I debate with people I like, but it does help me to know a little about who I am discussing matters with.
So, yes, why not get to know each other a little better if we can. Let's leave our paranoia at the door, share stories and a drink or too and then carry on biting with mighty bites at the ankles of the powerful. Nothing will happen to us, will it? MI5 can't be that bad. Its former head has a copy of the Soweto String Quartet to prove it.
Be there at All Bar One in Dean Street, London, at 6pm on Tuesday December 11; or at the agreed place in Manchester or wherever, for some good beer and company.
Guardian 26.11.2007
The next thing, Linda Grant - a regular Cif contributor - got in touch, inquiring about my mum and dad. I am not surprised that she knew them - their lives touched the lives of many.
Mum was in the last stages of cancer. Linda's warmth surprised and pleased her. She even had the idea of writing her life story and Linda offered to help. This cheered her up immensely and she wrote a little beginning called La Petite Madeleine.
But then we had to rush to my mother's side. Those last days as a carer were extremely hard for dad. We arrived at mum's bed less than an hour before she died. Hating her agony, I remember saying: "You can go now, mum." She died about a minute later. Then each of us acted in character. We all cried. Dad said how beautiful she was, Chris checked his watch in the middle of all his pain and said: "1.18" - for the entire world, like a pilot announcing a landing. Andy sobbed uninhibitedly, and I, allegedly, rabbited on about angels and spirits.
Linda wrote my mother's obituary in the Guardian. That helped somehow, and then Linda blogged about her discovery that I was the unidentified commenter known as Ishouldapologise and the son of her long-lost friends. Condolences from Cif readers and sparring partners came pouring in. Boy did they help. Thank you, Linda. Thank you, guys.
This also led to some reflections by Linda - and much discussion among readers - about the nature of online debate and the effect of having anonymous commenters.
"The whole business of online comment renders individuals one-dimensional," Linda wrote. "We know each other only through our ideas as they appear on the screen and this can lead to a tendency to demonise and dehumanise our opponents."
In a later blog she described her attempts to put a real face to the authors of online comments:
"Often I would try to imagine the person behind the opinions. Who did we have here? An embittered old Trot with a couple of bad marriages behind him and a tendency to take a drink or two? Or spotty Tory boy, commenting in his bedroom while he was supposed to be studying for his A-levels? "The problem with Cif was that not only did you not know who someone was, but usually you didn't even know their gender, age, occupation. Was this person commenting on Africa a veteran of the anti-apartheid struggle or a call-centre worker who has read an article on Wikipedia?"
Let me respond to Linda on three levels. First, yes, Cif is a great place to listen to and engage with an incredible, amazing and diverse bunch of people from everywhere and anywhere on this planet. More people should join in and find their voices. More people should be in a position to benefit from the good things the bloggers and commenters have created together here. My family did.
I have come to value Cif as a community. On my mother's death, I could never have anticipated that Cif would come up trumps. As my dad, Tony Hall, said: "It was like a flower opening." So thank you. Your comments go straight into our book of condolences.
Next, on the question of anonymity in political debate, what could Linda be getting at?
Well, let's think. Eliza Manningham-Buller, the former head of MI5, chose a record by the Soweto String Quartet as one of her Desert Island Discs recently. She said that she was given it as a present by the South African security services when she went there for a visit. She was surprised and impressed to see how former Boss agents and ANC cadres worked effectively together, protecting South Africa's interests. Now they are colleagues and friends. Will the day come when former Mossad and PLO operatives do the same? Is it possible that the problem of Israel-Palestine will become tractable when these deadly opponents start to deal with each other as real people, often worthy of respect?
I asked my father, who wrote for and edited London-based Middle East News magazines for six years, for his thoughts on the matter. He goes further than Linda. He told me that there was so much potential for secular and intellectual Israelis and Palestinians to become cousins, and that he was always so sad when the best of Israelis and Palestinians were jailed, picked off or killed - sometimes by their own. My father believes in the pie in the sky of a one-state solution, and I quote him here:
"Even though half the world is still in a state of post-traumatic stress, historically flinching from the horror of the Nazi holocaust against the Jews, and although another half is historically manipulated and discounts the holocaust, and speaks derisively of 'Jews', the only way through, around or past this tragic block is to walk a secular road together, to be clear about who is being manipulated by big powers and why and when and then to work towards that one state that South Africa is today, even though the road is, admittedly so much more difficult. "You cannot fault Jews who say 'No, never again.' It's so much more profound a historical trauma, even more so than apartheid. Nevertheless, the only way across such a rift is to reach out to each other as humans and never to tolerate division for racial or religious reasons. The best of Israelis know that, the best of Palestinians know that. These are the people who will, one day, make the Middle East blossom, not the feudal sheikhs, not the imperial powers and not the manic fundamentalists on either side."
Last point, in answer to Linda on the question of civilised political debate: I do agree with MrPikeBishop to some extent. Gloves off. But should Cif only be a place for the equivalent of a political punch-up in the pub car park after a few pints? I don't think so. Cif is just face-to-face political debate by other means. I know that I don't hold back when I debate with people I like, but it does help me to know a little about who I am discussing matters with.
So, yes, why not get to know each other a little better if we can. Let's leave our paranoia at the door, share stories and a drink or too and then carry on biting with mighty bites at the ankles of the powerful. Nothing will happen to us, will it? MI5 can't be that bad. Its former head has a copy of the Soweto String Quartet to prove it.
Be there at All Bar One in Dean Street, London, at 6pm on Tuesday December 11; or at the agreed place in Manchester or wherever, for some good beer and company.
Guardian 26.11.2007
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