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Archive for the ‘war’ Category

An open letter to Rita Atria

Posted by E on July 26, 2012

This is a love letter to the sister I never had.

On July 26, 2012, the twentieth anniversary of your death, I want to say that I will never forget you, Rita. I want to shout your name from the rooftops, and hope that somewhere in the echoes that bounce back, you are still there. I want to say that even though I never met you, I will always consider you a sister of my heart. You are my shadow self – a firefly in the darkest sky, a girl who never grew to be a woman.

We were born 3 months apart in the latter half of the same year, in the same part of the continent. We were both loud, vivacious, black-haired, brown-eyed girls endowed with a penchant for mischief. You were born into a small village of Mafiosos and I was a street urchin seeking out a family among a group of hateful extremists who envisioned that they would one day rule the country.

We were both seventeen years old when we saw our “family” for what it really was and tried to get out. We were both seventeen when we began to compile information on the men who we had once trusted, looked up to, even loved. We were little girls who wanted to pretend that we were soldiers in a war greater than ourselves.

In the greater scheme of things, we were little children. Disobedient children who spied on our families and turned against men who had once held us close to them and called us “daughters.” We sat in open court and pointed to such men, denouncing them for the vile criminals that they were. You testified against the Cosa Nostra, men responsible for murdering your father. I testified against the Heritage Front and helped shut down Canada’s largest white supremacist organization, bankrolled and condoned by Canada’s Security Intelligence Service (CSIS).

We both betrayed the only family that had ever embraced us.

I am you, Rita, and you are me. We are no more or less than any other teenage girl who wants to make a difference in her life, who wants a better world for her unborn children. We are every girl who lives in fear today, yet holds within her heart the flicker of hope that she will one day be counted. That someday she might make a difference.

We both know the seclusion of safe-houses, the anonymity of a new haircut and a bottle of scalp-burning dye. The unfamiliar utterance of a new name in our mouths. We know what it is like to have an entire world hate us and call us traitors. We know the words grown men have spoken after us, the threats and hits that were placed on our heads. And the truth, Rita, is that we were both children. We were idealists with hardly any concept in our minds of the ugliness of the world, of the seclusion and loneliness that would come.

When you’re in hiding the sky is always starless, muffled by an oppression of perpetually-low clouds. There’s only the stillness of empty apartments, where the silence of incalculable whitewashed walls closes in on you. After a while, the danger is no longer as relevant as walking to the window to tear apart the curtains, regardless of who might be lurking below. Because all you can say to yourself is, When the gunfire erupts I will not duck, I will not retreat.

I wish I’d met you, Rita. I wish that I could hold your hand and call you Sister. When you climbed over that balcony and flew down to your death, broken-hearted after the Mafia assassinated your only friend, magistrate Paolo Borsellino, convinced that nothing would ever change, a part of me was there with you. A part of me has always longed to take flight too.

Every year that passes since your passing, after the great snowfalls recede and give way to the delicate beauty of new growth in spring, I think of the shadows of us two – two teenage girls who wanted to make this ugly, senseless world a better place.

You live in me, Rita. And I will never forget you.

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Posted in activism, beauty, cosa nostra, csis, family, freedom, history, identity, innocence, italy, letter, life, love, mafia, media, news, paolo borsellino, politics, revolution, rita atria, truth, Uncategorized, violence, war, women | Tagged: , , , , , , , , | Leave a Comment »

History that is forgotten is destined to be repeated

Posted by E on November 11, 2011

This time of the year, around Remembrance Day, I get more emotional than usual. I search through my genetic memory and reach for my dead, faceless grandfathers. One was a captain in the Austro-Hungarian army during WW1, the other died in battle during WW2 while my mother was an infant. I never knew either of them. I never saw a photo of either of them.

War is a brutal, awful thing. It destroys photographs, it curls up the edges of memories and leaves only a hollow longing in its place.

My mother’s father was shot through the head in the Romanian battlefields at the end of the Second World War, in 1944.  A bullet smashed through a gap in his helmet and entered through his left ear just as my mother, an infant at the time, fell from a great height and shattered her tympanic membranes, rendering her deaf in the same ear.

My father’s father was a highly-decorated captain who met my grandmother Anna in Transylvania, where his troops were stationed. She eloped with him to Hungary, where she had her baby. But his family, because of Anna’s lack of dowry (my great-grandfather denied her inheritance because she’d ran off with a Hungarian), intercepted the marriage. My poor grandmother, all of eighteen, was put out on the street with a baby in her hands. A baby who ended up deaf, the villagers gossiped, because Anna had kept him a secret throughout the pregancy. But my father would never know his own Papa, because my grandfather would be killed in battle only two years later.

Even though I’ve never known, much less seen a mere photograph of them, both my grandfathers are here with me today. Their courage flows through my bloodstream. The untold horrors they must have faced in open combat claw at my consciousness.

We live in a world where so many people my age take for granted the freedoms we enjoy, the personal liberties that surround us, the fact that we can sit back and write sarcastic quips on the internet mocking this war and that one, but we lack the understanding that sometimes war is necessary for survival. That sometimes picking up a weapon is not an option, but a need. That is courage. What those naive, red-cheeked young people who entered battles for the love of country, for the love of all that was right, and met with hatred, and terror, and death. Who came home — if they were lucky — scarred in psyche and in body, their innocence ripped from them by the savagery of war.

War is in my blood, and whether you deny it or not, it’s in your blood also. You can’t run from it. Its legacy, for better or for worse, is all around us. We are the descendandants of several millenia of bloodshed and revolutions. The fact that we are here signifies that our lineage is built on the triumph of the victorious. We are the ones who survived, and we did so because of our ancestors. Because of the countless wars and savage battles they fought to give us our freedoms today, as frought with uncertainty as they are.

So let us remember our grandfathers and grandmothers and all those brave souls who were forced to grow up way too fast, and whose innocence was robbed well before their time. For if we forget the greatest treasure they gave us — our life and our freedom — then history is destined to be repeated.

Posted in family, freedom, history, news, politics, war | Tagged: , , , , , | 2 Comments »

Norway’s attacks – debunking the terrorist myth

Posted by E on July 23, 2011

Since September 11, 2001, most people’s image of a terrorist has been that of an extremely religious, Muslim, bearded man with a burning hatred for the West. The reality of home-grown, white extremist groups and fringe left or right-wing nutcases has been relegated to the dusty corners of our consciousness. Despite the Oklahoma City bombing, despite the skinheads who marched on the streets of Toronto and London, Molotov cocktails in hand, Swastika banners in hand, we refuse to believe that a terrorist could be one of our own – not a Muslim, not a brown-skinned immigrant, but someone born and raised here.

Today Norway struggles with a momentous tragedy in its history – the bombing of a government building in Oslo and a savage massacre that took the lives of at least 80 youths in a Labour Party youth camp. The suspect – an Aryan-looking, blond and blue-eyed killer, well-known for his links to right-wing extremists, according to AFP sources.

We continue to have a heads-under-the-sand mentality in North America – that right-wing fanaticism doesn’t exist anymore, that violent skinheads and neo-fascists have been relegated to a harmless, inactive status, merely losers on Jerry Springer who garner a few laughs with their Klan-totting robes, but not much more a threat than that. And certainly NOT the types of people who can mobilize like Al-Queda, who can recruit alienated youth and train them to hate, and to kill.

When I was sixteen years old, I experienced first-hand the recruitment tactics of such a group. I witnessed more than a sixteen-year old should witness, and I testified against some very prominent neo-Nazis in open court. When the dust cleared, it became known that the white supremacist group I was being hunted by had been co-founded by an agent provocateur of the Canadian Intelligence Security Service (CSIS), our version of the CIA.

This man was provided funds to sustain this group, many of whose members travelled to Libya to meet with Moammar Gaddafi, who was at the time in the process of connecting various terrorist groups from across the world, funding and giving them access to secret training camps in the desert.

 

The fact that a government agent would have a hand in not only establishing, but fuelling a radical white supremacist group, provoked a temporary outrage in the Canadian public, but not a lasting drive for change. Within a few years, the entire story was forgotten. The former agent provocateur was relocated to another province, given a massive house in the suburbs and a generous allowance for another three years. For what amounts to teaching violent neo-Nazis how to terrorize innocent civilians, and how to smuggle guns over the border from the US. A government report came out that basically acknowledged that Operation Governor had been compromised by an “overzealous” source who might have gone “a little too far”, but nothing was ever done to bring those responsible to justice.

In fact, when I submitted my book for publication over the past year, comments ranged from the flippant to the entirely dismissive, as in the editor from Canada’s Douglas & McIntyre, who sent this rejection note: “I just feel like the issue of white supremacy has had its day, and it would take something more current for a book on this to break out.”

Just tonight, Norway’s Prime Minister, faltering before the press, answered the question “Is right-wing extremism a problem in this country?” with a wishful self-denying “No, we don’t have a big problem with right-wing extremists.” What? That’s after 92+ people have been murdered by a neo-fascist. But in his head, like in publishers and most journalists’ minds, when a Muslim kills, it’s an organized plot. When a neo-fascist kills, it’s one lone, crazy gunman. Nothing to really worry ourselves about.

To the establishment, terrorists have to be Islamic fundamentalists. Even if a Timothy McVeigh or Anders Behring Breivik pops up every few years and takes the lives of hundreds or thousands of people in the process. The fallacy of thought behind editorial boards and mass media is dismissive and shockingly small-minded. The reality is, even if a lone gunman is behind a massacre, there is an entire ideology of hatred behind him.

I suppose that soon I’ll have to list my book on Kindle, since there seem to be no interested publishers in New York who want to buy a novel based on this stuff (but they’d easily offer a million bucks to Kim Kardashian or Casey Anthony for a ghost-written memoir). I owe it to people to put this book out. I’ve received funding from Ontario and Canada arts councils for this project, and there are many of us who I believe it’s an important book since it depicts the step-by-step process of indoctrination of young people into radical terrorist groups.

But traditional publishers do not see my book as “commercial enough” (St Martins / Minotaur). Beyond the disappointment I have in the system, I genuinely wonder what Douglas & McIntyre, Random House, Simon & Schuster and HarperCollins have to say tonight. I wonder if they really think a terrorist must have a Muslim face. That the subject of radical right-wingers is passé. Because if they do, they are very, very wrong. And Norway is paying the price for such a flawed assumption.

Posted in canada, commentary, crime, culture, europe, freedom, germany, literature, news, politics, press, publishing, war, writer, writing | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments »

9 years, 7 months, 20 days

Posted by E on May 2, 2011

I’m sitting here watching Obama’s live broadcast announcement on CNN: Osama bin Laden’s dead. Finally the families of victims of the 9/11 attack can feel that justice has been done, 9 years, 7 months, and 20 days to the day.

Watching the crowds swell at midnight on the streets of America’s capital makes me think of those brave soldiers who made this happen. Not the politicians who get kudos for commanding the assaults on Al Queda, but the minions in the barracks, the nameless, faceless ones who go into the night, weapon in hand, and defend our way of life and the freedoms we take for granted.

One of the unexpected bonuses of this momentuous celebration is — not having to be subjected to cloyingly sweet Royal Wedding recaps. Of course, it kind of disturbs me that it’s likely someone sat on Osama’s body for a few days, just so as to not disturb the glorious “Royal” moment, but at least we now know the operation has been completed.

I’ve been on Twitter for the last hour, surrounded by ecstatic, enormously overwhelmed Tweeters who profess never to forget this day and this moment. Reading their tweets, feeling their surging pride in their country, sensing the common bonds that course between all of us, makes me tremendously glad to be born in this day and time. Imagine, to be able to sit on my sofa here at midnight, in my living room in my own nook of the universe, and yet united in a groundswell of humanity — from Twitter to Facebook, to this blogging medium — that is nothing less than moving and downright extraordinary.

Posted in freedom, usa, war | Tagged: , | Leave a Comment »

Adopt an ancestor, enrich yourself

Posted by E on February 5, 2011

There are few things sadder to me than to see the vital documents, precious old photographs, and stacks of correspondence being auctioned off on ebay for profit. Just last week I saw a scuffed, stained porcelain doll that had been in a Jewish ghetto in Belgium, and another that made it through Buchenwald and was stamped as the possession of one Anna Schwarzman. A little girl once loved this doll enough to carry it around with her as she was displaced from her home and homeland.
Often these kind of personal treasures end up in museums, but it’s not always so, and possessions such as these surface frequently on ebay. Everything from old love letters to ID cards, to passports and assorted documents that had been of extreme importance to their owner.

Just last week, a photo of a young girl flanked by two older people, presumably her parents, was listed for an auction. The back of it had a line in Romanian, written in a delicate, cursive script: “So that the memory of this precious beloved day may never be forgotten.”

Surely back on that summer day in 1922, this girl never imagined that someday her precious papers would be on sale to strangers for less than $10 – perhaps she imagined that her own children would keep these items in treasured photo albums. Perhaps she never had children. Perhaps she never made it through the war.
Sometimes I wonder – will the things I love so much, the few remaining items of my childhood, be auctioned off by someone who will never understand their value to me?

Whenever I can, I’ve made it my mandate to rescue lost ancestors. For all intents and purposes I consider myself an orphan, with no family on this continent. The few distant relatives I do have back in my native homeland, a country I left when I was 10, are divided from me by more than an ocean: the barrier of language (my Romanian is terrible), different social norms, differences in how we perceive the world, society in general. I hardly know the people back in Europe, though we share some strands of collective DNA.
So when I’m on ebay and I look into the faces of these people whose names I may never know, I feel a special ache for the dispossessed. In their eyes, I see myself: an orphan collectively building herself a new family, one photograph, one letter, one wartime document at a time.

It started with one piece of paper – I was hunting around for something altogether different, an out-of-print book, when I stumbled upon a listing that captivated me. It was a stateless person document issued in a refugee camp in Austria at the end of WW2.

Stapled to the inside cover was a passport-size photo of an old woman who reminded me of my grandmother. She had the saddest eyes in the world, loaded with anger and pain and possibly defeat. I thought to myself, how would it feel to be 65 years old and be considered “stateless”?
At that age, she should have been warm and comfy in her own home, her meals cooked by a daughter-in-law…but no, she was a displaced person, a widow, someone with the echo of death already playing in her eyes. While people all around her were being selected by immigration committees, Canada, the US and Australia were looking only for young, able-bodied and preferably single persons to emigrate. Serafima would not have been on anybody’s desired list.
Not only did I acquire her documents, but I began to research her story from the few details included on the ID: the name of her birth-village, Labinskaya (changed to Labinsk in modern day) a small Cossack-founded town in the Caucasus Mountains.
Wikipedia told me that between August 1942 and January 1943, Labinskaya was occupied by the German Wehrmacht. The residents had fearlessly fought the enemy, and on January 25, 1943 Stanitsa Labinskaya was liberated from the Nazi occupation. But between that time, thousands of residents had been forced to either flee, or been sent to concentration camps.
Perhaps Serafima’s husband or sons perished in the fighting. One will never know, and a Google and Facebook search does not reveal anyone with her last name or variations thereof. It is possible the name Sadochlin(a) ended with the war.

I wondered why there would be so many Cossack refugees in Austria, and why they were still there after the war had ended, instead of returning to their Russian homes. Then, after another hour of research, I discovered about the Yalta Agreement, and the forced repatriation of Cossacks by the British Army.
Seen as enemies by both Russians and the Brits, the Cossacks who returned to Russia were sent directly to Siberian gulags where they met austere conditions and often death. The ones who refused to get on those trains were beaten and shot to death by the British Army.
In Lienz, Austria, there is a graveyard with some twenty crosses, where more than three hundred Cossacks who refused to return to Stalin’s Russia were instead massacred by the British Forces. I’ll probably never know if Serafima made her way to Camp Kellerberg from the massacre at Lienz, or was transferred there from another displaced persons camp.

The story may very well end here, with her document in my hands, but the memory of this heartbroken woman lives on inside me. I take comfort in knowing that Serafima has now found a person on the other side of the ocean, six decades and a lifetime after the moment that photograph was snapped, who will not allow her name to be forgotten.

Posted in adoption, family, freedom, history, war, writing | Tagged: , , , , , , , | 8 Comments »

Berlin, Beijing – behind the smoke and mirrors, a monster rears its ugly head

Posted by E on August 22, 2008

Berlin 1936 = Beijing 2008. I bet Leni Riefenstahl is rolling in her grave wishing she could’ve gotten a crack at filming this one.

How are they similar? In both cases, a hopelessly corrupt IOC awards the Olympic games to a savage totalitarian state, while the world turns a blind eye to the atrocities committed by that state.

Violations against open discourse started early: as foreign journalists began converging on Beijing to cover the Summer Olympics, restrictions began to be placed on journalistic freedoms.

Since China was awarded the Games, China’s Communist Government and the International Olympic Committee (IOC) have continually given guarantees to the world’s media that journalists would have unrestricted access to the Internet.
Then, the Chinese Government blew that commitment into disarray when 20,000 journalists covering the August 8 – 24 Games in Beijing were told they would be blocked from accessing some Internet sites.

China has also designated 3 parks in Beijing for “sanctioned demonstrations”, promising that there would be room for protests, provided that those planning to organize a peaceful protest would submit a petition in advance. The result: people were rounded up and arrested instead. No protest ever took place.

Australia’s Media Alliance spokesman Christopher Warren was quoted as comparing the upcoming Games to those hosted by Nazi Germany in 1936. “This promises to be the most restricted Olympics, in terms of reporting the Games and its social and political context, since Berlin in 1936”.

Everyone who has watched the Olympics has witnessed pro-Chinese cheating, none more evident than in the gymnastics fiasco. Not only are at least two of the girls underage, but in my opinion it’s pretty clear the judges have been bought. Not surprising, though, since the field of gymnastics, like figure skating, is notorious for bribing and buying of judges.

China has spent in excess of 43 billion dollars (yes, you read that right) to showcase their superiority over (and shame) all other nations who have ever hosted an Olympics. You can rest assured that the message “We’re Bigger, We’re Better” does not stop with the theatrics of the opening ceremonies, to dubbed musical productions or with little girls who are considered too ugly to represent China and must sing below a stage.

The smoke and mirrors that cover an insatiable urge to beat all others will not put all its hopes on the shoulders of mere human beings. Just think about it – if you’ve gone all the way and spent 43 billion dollars on a show, what’s a few more paltry million to buy off some judges?

This is a country where you go to jail if you speak out against the regime. Where ethnic and religious minorities are persecuted and murdered in the open. Where you must fit in, must not think for yourself, must become a robot for the State.

Communism and fascism are similar in that way: they curtail the freedom to be an intellectual, to have free thought, to breathe without looking over your shoulder. They curtail the kind of music you can listen to, the kinds of magazines you read, the choice of vocation, job, and career you may ever have dreamed to have.

These are nations where children with aptitude are kidnapped from their parents and thrown into provincial facilities where they are forced to train for 16 hours a day, just to show the State as powerful and full of glory. Gold medals are stacked upon the broken bones, wilted minds and ruined bodies of young people.

You can also count on the fact that pre-Olympic discussions took place, where Chinese judging officials have been not only bribed with better apartments and salaries, but also warned that if they brought shame upon China (by marking them less than anyone else), they would be deported to some gulag somewhere and would wish for an early death.

You think it can’t happen again? Guess what? It’s happening already.

Posted in censorship, china, commentary, communism, culture, freedom, germany, news, olympics, politics, tibet, war | Tagged: , , , , , , , | 1 Comment »

The Haunting of Sophie Scholl and the White Rose

Posted by E on May 1, 2008

Back when I began to write some of the posts that would bring me the most attention, controversy and praise – posts on adoption, deaf culture, art, and growing up under communism – I never would have dreamed that a simple article that I wrote over the course of an hour would become my most popular post. My article on Sophie Scholl currently generates hundreds of hits every day. It never fails to amaze me how even now, decades after this young girl’s speedy trial and execution, that so many people from all over the world still enter her name in search engines.

I believe there is an innate magnetism around her story, an aura of “everyman” that pulls a spectator into her life. Vicariously, we hunger for the sort of stoic bravery and unabated faith that she had in her convictions.

The story of the White Rose is close to my heart, and it came long before the movies made her a coffee table name in North America. I have witnessed underground printing presses where people wielded the written word as weapon, and been witness to all the joy and horror of a world gone mad. I choose to keep those stories to myself, unwilling still to share all I have seen. 

But there is something universal about this – a repetition of lives, a reincarnation of convinction that infuses the hearts of all who have ever been part of an underground political movement. This is why so many people search her out, this Sophie girl, and what she embodies: fearlessness in a regime of fear, faith in her own self in a world where personal identity is sacrificed to a collective state of mind-numbness.

The White Rose haunts all of us who have ever wanted to change the world. It is our hope that someday, the seeds of our actions will grow into the forests of a world where all can be free to speak their minds – politically incorrect or not – without fear and oppression.

Too often the Left has been sidetracked with the political agendas of many who would take away people’s rights to have their own ideas. Yet they will triumphantly wave the example of Sophie Scholl and the White Rose as a feather in the socialist cap. So do bland, neo-socialist liberal Arts Grants committees that espouse fairness and oneness for all, but withdraw funding of controversial projects, penalizing any work that breathes creativity and/or controversy.

But this is not what the White Rose symbolized! Sophie, her brother Hans Scholl, Alex Schmorell, Willi Graf, and Christoph Probst, along with their philosophy professor, Kurt Huber, all were executed for speaking their minds. These young people died because they published leaflets that commanded people to THINK! To break free of the mould of their oppressive national socialist regime.
To me, the White Rose will always be a harbinger of the freedom of ideas, of expression, of thought – whoever they belong to. Because ultimately, everyone deserves to have their own voice, as morally-repugnant as it may sound to some.

This is the fundamental truth: Ideas do not massacre people. Ideas on their own do not torch neighbourhoods, incite race-riots or instigate hate attacks. PEOPLE do that – people who have so much hate inside themselves that it bursts out into the world like an explosion. And these people come in all colours and all religions, and of all political affiliations.  

Every race and religion is capable of violence. Curtailing ideas is only insulting the intelligence of the masses, which every doctrine considers no more intelligent than sheep. Despite what you hear through the mass media propaganda machine, the reality is that everybody can kill.

Blacks kill. Whites kill. Muslims kill people in western European neighbourhoods. Religious fundamentalists stone women to death if they dare show their ankles underneath their burkas. Christians torture and kill indigenous people in Latin Americas and the Middle East. Jews kill. Arabs kill. Communists kill. Fascists kill. Husbands kill wives. Mothers kill children.

Everybody kills.

But murder is carried out because of hatred, and hatred does not needs ideas to propagate itself. Ideas are merely used as an excuse. Ideas are the flimsy excuse behind which the true nature of hatred resides: fear, jealousy, desire for more than what the neighbour has. These are universal, primal urges. The active banning of ideas under the auspices of them being “politically-incorrect” serves only to deny the deeper roots of hatred and division.

This is the propaganda of the world we live in, a place where voices of dissent are moderated and quashed at every opportunity.

I am reminded of a saying by Voltaire that has enjoyed revived popularity: I may disagree with what you have to say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.

To me, this is what the legacy of Sophie Scholl is all about. This is why I will always remember the actions of Hans Scholl, Alex Schmorell, Willi Graf, Christoph Probst and Professor Kurt Huber, and Sophie herself.

She is me. She is you. Sophie haunts us all. She is a part of all of us who carry inside ourselves the childish idealism of a future where all can live, breathe, and have the right to have our own thoughts without censorship.
 

 

Posted in activism, censorship, commentary, culture, politics, sophie scholl, thoughts, war, white rose | Tagged: , , | 1 Comment »

Bush baiting Russia with a stick: the new agenda, a war with Russia

Posted by E on April 1, 2008

kids-with-bush.jpg 

If there was any doubt about the US provokation of Russia into aggression, here is more confirmation straight out of Bucharest:

Unflinching from a fight, President Bush said Tuesday he fully supports proposals to put ex-Soviet states Ukraine and Georgia on the road toward joining NATO despite French and German qualms it would upset relations with Moscow.

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080401/ap_on_go_pr_wh/bush

Bush’s desire to poke at Russia with a stick until it bites back is basically a tenuous attempt to provoke Russia until it attacks first, providing an excuse for a war that the US has been secretly preparing for.

Looking at recent events in which the US fully backed the “independence” of Kosovo, knowing full well that it puts them at odds with Russia, you would tend to scratch your head and wonder – What is Bush’s business anyway, meddling in European politics? I mean, isn’t he elbows-deep in the muck of waging war in the Middle-East without having to now upset the delicate balance of European alliances?

Nobody said Russia was a diplomatic country. Brutish and boorish, run by Mafiosos and black-marketeers, it is a country that is shaped much like a bear: gruff and rough around the edges, but basically not a threat. At least not until it’s provoked. And it will take a lot of upset Russia into a war, but when it does happen, over commodities like fuel and resources in the Arctic, it will be a hard, terrible battle that will involve nuclear arms and has the potential to launch everyone into a Third World War.

Make no mistake: the US pushing for Ukraine and Georgia to join the European Union is not about freedom or democracy. It is simply about 2 things:

.
1. weakening the European Union so it is more vulnerable in currency, and the politics grow more volatile
2. provoke the former Soviet Union into attacking first, so as to poke the finger at them and say: “They started it first, not us! Not us!”

Pathetic.

Read more about this in my analysis of recent events: http://subversivewriter.wordpress.com/2008/02/26/an-independent-kosovo-the-hidden-agenda-a-war-with-russia-2/

Posted in arctic, communism, freedom, globalization, north pole, politics, romania, russia, ukraine, usa, war | 1 Comment »