Interviews at Books, Borders & Bikes
Filmmaker Anna Thoma and Clare Hammond managed to corner the trio of men - Magnus Linklater, William Dalrymple and Des Browne - buoyant from partaking in the first debate of the festival, as they stood in their shirtsleeves on the sloping green lawns of Traquair beneath an unusually visible Scottish sun. The groups of early morning cyclists and walkers had returned from their literary trails and the grass was scattered with clusters of enthusiastic Scots, baring their arms and raising their faces skywards, greeting one another and discussing the day’s schedule. A brave few were already brandishing wine glasses, William Dalrymple amongst them, but we managed to extract Magnus from his highly intellectual conversation (‘there’s quite a lot of food in there... um... I’d like a glass of wine actually’) for a minute or two before allowing him to return to the festivities.
‘I think the festival is brilliant’ he grinned ‘because a) it’s in such a beautiful place, b) the weather is always superb and that’s very important for a festival, I was here last year and it was weather very much like this. C) I just think the audience is brilliant because they are genuinely interested in the subject and they are genuinely interested in the authors, and authors love talking to their audiences. Because authors spend an awful lot of their time locked in their rooms writing and writing and writing, and they never actually get out to see their public and then suddenly there they are, they’ve got an audience prepared to love them, prepared to buy their book, and to listen to the author talking and nothing is better for an author than to be able to talk to his public (or her public!) so anyway. All that is a long way of saying, great festival, brilliant venue and tremendous atmosphere.
And what do you think - you’ve just been talking about how difficult the situation is in Afghanistan and about how dialogue can contribute to improving democracy and peaceful change etc. Do you think there is actually a link between this festival and the reality on the ground, or do you think the two things are very separate?
No, I think that the whole point about conflict is you have to talk. In order to resolve it you have to talk. Ok, I’m not saying that an event in Traquair is going to solve the problem in Afghanistan. But all discussion, all information, all exchange of views is important. So I don’t think it’s entirely irrelevant, if you have people in the audience who focus their attention on a subject and on the problems and on the issues arising out of it. So all that is good. And of course very often you find amongst your audience people who are extremely knowledgable...
William Dalrymple: You need to tackle him on a very serious negative portrayal of Dalrymple in one of his early works... talking about the massacre of Glencoe
MUCH LAUGHTER
I don’t think we can get involved in that... you know, we talk about conflict resolution, we cannot get involved in things like the massacre of Glencoe. That makes Afghanistan pale in comparison!
Who should we invite? Your dream team...
I think that when William organised his festival in Jaipur, they had a fantastic line up, it was all Scottish writers, people like Alexander McCall Smith, Allan Mas(/), all of this. So I think, we’ve got, right on our doorstep a very good selection of good, popular Scottish writers.
WILLIAM LOOKS VERY PLEASED
WILLIAM DALRYMPLE
Dalrymple stands dishevelled and beaming, brandishing a large glass of red wine, his shirt untucked. He keeps darting off to to speak to old friends - Scotland is his home after all, and he is completely at ease here. He has known Catherine Muller Stuart, he tells me, since he was a wee tot. It was her he stayed with when he first went to India knowing nothing of the country upon which he is now an expert. When I eventually pin him down he is charming, relaxed. Traquair, for him, is a party. Certainly he takes part in the debates - very eloquently, and speaks to the audience about Afghanistan and later, Pakistan. But Books, Borders and Bikes he tells me, is first and foremost about catching up with old chums and eating delicious food in a beautiful place. A sentiment shared by many. So, we ask him:
What do you think of the festival?
Well, I’ve just arrived. Nice day.
Have you been here before?
I attended childhood parties here when I was twelve. I first came here when I was about seven I think. When I first went out to Jaipur, well before I went out, the only one of my friends who I knew would be there was Catherine, so I went and I saw Catherine in her university room - she had a nose stud, and she told me all about buying a book called Lonely Planet, which I’d never heard of. Early days. So my first ever Indian contact was from Traquair, and twenty-five years later I’m still there...
You’ve got the bug. But you’ve also written about the Middle East...
I’ve written, or I will have written eight books, of which seven now are about or in the vicinity of India, and one is about the Middle East, and rather irritatingly everybody tells me that’s their favourite - of course I’m not a Middle Eastern expert, but sometimes with travel writing it’s better to write about stuff you really don’t know and to go with completely wide open eyes and write down your first impressions. I mean that’s what travel writing is really about - instant impressions, rather than a long, deep association with something, usually and I always find it rather irritating when people say that - there’s a lot of stuff I know well, why don’t they like those better!
So bringing that back to the festival, do you think that travel books and personal accounts of politics and international conflicts are important (in addition to newspapers) in terms of the general public’s understanding of world events?
Well I think of course it depends on the book. I think a great book about a place can have incredible power, but apart from anything else I think that there’s good journalism and bad journalism, and good travel writing and bad travel writing. But the great masterpieces on the Middle East, or wherever, are incredibly important and what’s so sad is when you see policy being made by people like Tony Blair, who have never travelled. He went straight from university into politics and has had to make important decisions about you know, Islam, the West, joining America and invading countries on the other side of the world, when he’s never been abroad, and knows nothing about these countries. The fiascoes we’ve had in Iraq and Afghanistan I think can be traced back to world leaders who have never been out of their home countries.
So do you think, perhaps, that it might be useful to have historians and writers - travel writers in particular, in parliament?
Well there are an increasing number. I think it’s very good that in our next constituency over the boarder is Rory Stewart - who thankfully is a very rare beast - a politician who’s actually properly travelled and really knows the world. Though apparently Cameron doesn’t like him, which is a shame.
So what did you think of the discussion?
It was lovely. It was one of those discussions in which you think you’ve still got an hour to go, and then they tell you it’s over, which is always a good sign. It was very fluent - very interesting to talk to somebody who is actually involved in policy making - it’s very easy to snipe from the sidelines, when you see someone that has to struggle with the... I mean in a sense, at this stage, when Afghanistan’s going so badly wrong, if you’ve got somebody who’s responsible for a fiasco it’s not a difficult thing to have a debate with them, and I thought Des made a very good job of a difficult task. I mean in a sense my job is the easy one, just to be the critic obviously it’s a lot more difficult to defend something when it’s unfashionable, and I thought he did a very fluent and intelligent job.
And do you think what he had to say has changed your mind even a little bit about the topic?
It certainly would have changed the way I think about Des Browne! There’s a kind of knee-jerk reaction to regard politicians as in some ways like journalists, as lying idiots, and when you see an intelligent man, who actually does know a little about justifying policy that he made that’s now coming under criticism, it’s very interesting. I’m a great believer in book festivals - in general I’m a big believer in book festivals, I think that to bring writers together and to bring audiences to them is a teriffic thing. I run a festival in India, the Jaipur Literature festival. What’s lovely about this is seeing some space and some green, I mean Jaipur’s now, in five years, grown to be 60,000 people, it’s the biggest in Asia, so no space at all, it’s like being in Picadilly circus, you have to fight your way to the tents and there’s no sitting room, and here at least you’ve... you may not quite have the youths and the student population that we’ve got, but at least you’ve got some room to sit down. But one of the things about Jaipur - Jaipur’s totally free, there’s no tickets, and we have these people walking in off the streets.
So do you think that Books, Borders and Bikes might benefit from moving closer to Edinburgh, for example, to bring more people to it through accident rather than design?
Well the strength and the problem with a book festival like this is that it’s not easily reached by public transport and it’s a long way from anywhere. You know the plus point is that it’s surrounded by some of the most beautiful countryside in the world. It’s a huge pleasure, and a privilege to be here, but you don’t get the crowds walking in off the streets in the same way that we do in Jaipur, and you know, bus loads of students walking in, and the problem is where to put them. Here you long for them to be here and see these wonderful events, but you know, I’m sure we can sort this out!
DES BROWNE
Des Browne, fired up from the success of his talk and the enthusiasm of his public, is delighted to be here. The topic of discussion was, as Dalrymple tells us, a difficult one for Browne, as his involvement in Afghanistan was very real indeed and his responsibility is measurable. But that was the inevitable nature of his job, and he is more than willing to discuss his past decisions and to defend them. He is earnest and animated when he speaks, and more than anything it is clear that he genuinely believes in and cares about the decisions he makes and the people on whose behalf he makes them.
So. Des. Hello! Are you pleased to be here? What do you think of the festival? Do you think it has the potential to grow and develop into something big?
Well, I mean the setting is just stunning, driving here on this beautiful afternoon put me into a good mood, and I think it’s a festival that will grow... um... it’s difficult to develop these sorts of events in times of austerity, but this could turn out... the event that we’ve just had, the people were engaged and interested. It’s a very distinctive looking audience. They represent a particular type of Scottish audience that I’m used to dealing with. What I would say is, that I live in the west of Scotland, and the event got a lot of coverage on local radio, which is a very good start, and a lot of people who heard my name mentioned, picked up on it and spoke to me about it. So... over time word will spread. I mean I’m not old enough to remember the beginnings of the Edinburgh festival, but I can tell you the audiences were nothing like they are now. So I’m not suggesting this will develop into the Edinburgh festival but you have to get your footprint on the ground. Yeah and if you’re going to do this in Scotland, you’ve got to do it in June or August.
In the programme it is suggested that dialogue can contribute to democracy and conflict resolution: how do you think these sorts of discussions relate to what people are actually doing about the conflicts on the ground in Afghanistan - is it a completely different reality?
Well of course Afghanistan is a completely different reality, but I mean this is an opportunity for me to explain to people what I understand about Afghanistan. But I don’t hold myself out as knowing everything, and William Dalrymple who has a different experience to what I have, and comes at it from a different point of view - I was pleased to see agreed with quite a significant amount of what I had to say. He didn’t agree with all of it, and I didn’t expect him to, but from my point of view, the important thing is to get the people who are opinion formers in Scotland to start thinking about Afghanistan more than just in terms of our military involvement in it. You know, and I think we’re in danger of making our decisions in order to give us our domestic politics and our military involvement - that’s a much more complex challenge, and it’s a challenge that faces the world, and it will pop up somewhere else. You know if we’re not just to give up on Afghanistan or Somalia or Sedan, or any of these countries and just forget about them and let the people just die in violence - if we’re not going to do that then we need to begin to understand how we can engage with them.
So can these kind of events promote the idea of dialogue?
Yes they can. Of course they can. I mean I’m sure over time festivals of this nature will be able to encourage voices from Afghanistan itself and not just our view of Afghanistan - we need to hear from Afghan women. You know, I mean fifty percent of this country have a different view of whether we should continue to be engaged in it than most of the menfolk. So, you know, we need to be brave enough I think to open our ears to diversity. But this is a good opportunity to talk to an audience of opinion-formers about things which are important, and which I don’t think we yet properly understand.
Do you think that it is the duty of historians and writers as well as politicians to help the general public to gain a better understanding of Afghanistan?
Yeah, I think so, but we need Afghan people to explain their culture to us - there is enough commentary by people who are not properly culturally sensitive about these cultures. The point I was making was that if we are to build a nation, or to help them build a nation out of Afghanistan then we need to be sensitive to their culture. Their culture is very strongly influenced by the Islamic religion. We don’t have the background to be able to engage with that properly - we need Islamic countries to work with us in doing these things and we need to build a relationship with countries to enable us to do that. There’s a possibility that what will come out of the Arab Spring, of course, is that there will be countries in the Islamic world who will have a modern approach to Islam and the world, and they will become partners who have been through the same process themselves.
DAVID STARKEY
David Starkey reclines on a bench beneath a vast tree that throws darting shadows across his face. He has just emerged triumphant and beaming from 45 minutes of talking at the audience about his latest book Crown and Country: A History of England through the Monarchy. It was a show, more than anything, and he works (deliberately, I’m certain of it) to rile people up. He is unabashed about his controversiality - embraces it. I long to criticise him for his dogged prejudices, but I have to admit he is right when he points out how important it is to have an alternative opinion. It gets people talking. It makes people take a stand and whether they are with him or against him, they are formulating and sharpening their own opinions.
A week before the festival, Starkey’s racist comments hit the front page. ‘The whites have become black’ he said, prompting national outrage. Petina Gappah, a fellow speaker at Books, Borders and Bikes wrote on her blog:
Missing in David Starkey’s analysis is any awareness of class. Because this is the essence of Starkey’s reasoning: any white person who is not how you imagine a white person to be has become black, and any black person who is not how you imagine a black person to be has become white. To be black is to be poor, it is to be uneducated, to be inarticulate. A middle class black man like David Lammy becomes, not middle class, but white. And the working class hooligans who were looting trainers are acting black.
Starkey’s impromptu bouts of speaking his mind have caused real anger but he, not oblivious, but not particularly fazed either, ploughs on regardless. He led the interview (as was perhaps to be expected) into some fairly dodgy territory, whilst grinning with satisfaction at his own eloquence. And though his choice of subject matter is slightly zany (Anna and I exchanged confused looks at several points) he is undeniably eloquent.
Hello. Ah. Who shall I look at?
Well, both of us... we’ll both be asking the questions.
Oh Good! A twin interview... a twinterview!
Yes, exactly... So David. How are you enjoying the festival so far?
My experience of the festival so far has been arriving, going to the exhibition, err... getting mildly drunk, having an extremely good dinner and getting a little bit drunker and going to bed and having breakfast then going back to bed again and getting up and doing my talk. I am terrible unsociable when I do these kind of things. My central approach to doing a talk is to have a bath, lie down, relax, deliver, then drink some more red wine. Sorry! I think it’s a reflection of something else. I’ve always hated the literary scene. I don’t like knocking around with fellow writers. I hate reviewing for columns. I loathe literary reviews... because I know what I want to do. I don’t see myself as part of a general literary scene. I find its back-scratching and bitchery and mutual loathing so tedious. Tedious, tedious, tedious. I know who I am, I know what materials I want to use and I know what I want to say.
On the other hand, don’t get me wrong, I like many writers, who I think generally speaking are a bit frightened of the spoken word, very often, for example they will only read. I never read. Unless you’re a great actor, reading from the page is dead. What you have to do, you have to re-weave the magic of words, and I love doing that, because audiences are wonderful, wonderful things. For most of my professional life I was a failed actor, I was an academic and I was... the only aspect of being an academic, well there were two aspects that I genuinely enojoyed. One of them was lecturing, and the other was that remarkable process of watching a young mind explode with flowers. It happens very rarely, but when it happens it’s wonderful. It’s sex, pure sex, it’s all sex!
Um. Yes. Ok, David... So you thoroughly approve of a festival like this in which academic subjects are discussed through stories and anecdotes and first-hand accounts?
Yes, of course. I think that the catastrophe has been that... and Scotland’s a very good place to do this. If you look at the Scottish Englishment in the 18th Century, what it was about above all was saying that the most complex subjects can be talked about by people with a good average education, with no need for barriers of expertise. There is a common language in which we can address common problems. One of the great problems with the professionalization of academic life, on both sides of the border, in the 20th and 21st centuries, have been these impenetrable jargons. It seems to me they’re like Medieval theology or the use of Latin for learned discourse in the Middle Ages, I’m afraid rather cruelly I say it’s like modern sociology, it’s a language designed not to be understood, and I cannot see... the natural sciences are a different question because of the complexness of natural phenomenon, but in terms of human experiences and emotion I can see nothing that cannot be put into plain language.
So that it might be universally understood. Yes, so do you think a festival like this would benefit from directing itself at a broader audience. More culturally diverse, for example, or younger...
Well how would one aim it at a younger audience? I’m in favour of making the audience discourse as widely available as possible, but of course you know these things are quite expensive, they require a car, an event like this takes place in a kind of rather grand setting, that many of us feel terribly attracted to, but that isn’t exactly cutting edge or cool (if somebody as old as I am can use words like that without sounding ridiculous) err... I think, we were talking about national crises, I think that we do have a real problem in the gaps and the way in which the generational values have separated so widely.
I mean take the audience, it’s an absolutely typical audience for a literary festival. Middle-aged, middle-class, civilised, the sort of people who buy things at auctions isn’t it, the sort of people who listen to BBC 2. The sort of people in one sense who don’t need these festivals. I think what we’re all doing is, frankly, well in one sense we’re all congratulating each other. We’re all congratulating each other on being civilised and intelligent, nice people who actually don’t have too many problems and can sit back and have a mutually congratulatory discourse. But then that’s what human groups are about, I mean I suppose in an ideal world we’d be getting the black and white boys from the ghetto, but... you tell me... how do you do it? How do you get them here...
By bus?
No, no. But would they understand? The trouble is that what’s happened there is that separate languages have been created. Though I don’t know what the language on the streets in Edinburgh is, the language of the streets in London is one that can address, I would have thought, almost nothing of what we’ve been talking about at this festival. You must remember that language is... modern linguistics seems to me to be a very deceitful science as it claims that all languages are the same. This manifests as nonsense. I mean what we know for example about English and Scots dialect is that until the end of the 15th Century, the beginning of the 16th Century, there are hardly any abstract nouns, in either of those languages, and for example a supremely great writer like Sir Thomas More when he writes both his history of Richard III and Utopia – Utopia he never even tries to put into English. Utopia is simply written in Latin. Richard III he writes first in Latin, and then he tries to put it into English but he gives up. Because the language simply will not accommodate it. When you look at what he’s trying to do – you know it’s the basis of Shakespeare’s play, Richard III, what he’s trying to do there is to argue that the historical experience of a people cannot be a source of moral value. The only sources of moral value are internal and religious. It’s a very interesting argument in terms of national identities – do the histories of different people contain moral values, More said absolutely not. Then he writes this extraordinary story of Richard III to show how immoral national histories are. But you’ll see he has these wonderful passages, we began by talking about acting, when he talks about Richard as an actor, you know, like many modern politicians he was something of a performer. And More writes all of these specific descriptions of actual actions and then the Latin for ‘Richard was an actor who could play any role.’ At which point he gives up, because English doesn’t have a word for role. It doesn’t have an abstract. All you can do is put particular instances down. You can’t then do the generalisation.
Ah. I see where you’re heading. Back to the gang problem..
.
So you see what I mean. Modern street talk has gone back to this earlier language without abstracts and without generalisation, and in the same way so much modern literature... I mean the Harry Potter and the stuff of whatever is bad Medieval romance, you know, it’s Malory without the poetry.
Something very extraordinary has happened. We’ve had this extraordinary cultural flowering since the 15th Century, first beginning in Italy and then spreading throughout the rest of Europe. There’ve been horrors, yes, war... the hells of war and not only in the 20th Century. But generally speaking there’s a story of cultural development, it’s progression. If you of something like medicine in the course of the last hundred years, if you think of the development of the novel since the 18th century, and so on, it’s a process of astonishing cultural flowering.
But I think the signs are that it’s over. Because human conditions have ends as well as beginnings.
So what’s your message for everyone at Books, Borders and Bikes today? There’s no hope? It’s over?
I think it could be. We’re a silver age. You might prove me wrong. But at least it’s useful to have an alternative opinion.
DR. IZZELDIN ABUELAISH
Dr. Abuelaish makes people cry. As he spoke about his experiences in Gaza, one by one the faces of the audience grew increasingly lined with concern and began to crumple. Tissues were produced, handkerchiefs extracted as eyes welled up at the heartbreaking sadness of what Izzeldin was saying, and the dignity and bravery of the man himself. He speaks with a passion unparalleled by anyone at the festival and, I suspect, by few people worldwide. The next day, when he appeared as a member of the panel for the debate on The Arab Spring and the Power of Democracy, spontaneous applause broke out amongst the audience each time he spoke. He truly believes in everything he is saying - something that cannot be said for Jonathan Powell, whose discussion about great leaders and Machevellian tactics both Izzeldin and I have just listened to.
Izzeldin rejects Powell’s approach. It is the truth that he’s after -truth and honesty and justice. He sits close to me and I listen to what he is saying and think: yes, this man’s right. This is what should be happening. It is possible. But I, like most people, have moments of doubt. Izzeldin is utterly convinced of the power of his message of hope. And it is this conviction, I believe, that has propelled his message around the world and that will cause his following to develop and to grow.
I try to start the interview, and he gestures for me to begin recording without pausing for breath as he imparts his views on Tony Blair:
He’s now, he’s just collecting money. He has now become an advocate of human rights, he was in a position when he was in power to defend justice, human rights, respect. And now, and he became a man of faith. Just now you realise that you believe in God and you want to be a man of faith? But before you were there, just day before. It’s too late. Lack of confidence in them, we don’t trust them. They are playing games.
But isn’t that the life of politicians?
I don’t like. I don’t run after them, believe me, I like not to be with the big leader. Please. They are not honest. Self-interest, disconnected from humanity. That’s what can I say.
Your message is so inspiring and obviously you’ve been around the world sharing it with people. Have you been to many festivals similar to this?
I have been, you know, at many festivals, in India, UK, Australia, New Zealand. As you say, all over the world, and what you say about the speech makes me satisfied and gives me hope, that the ground is receptive, and there is hope, so let us move and act and do something if we want to chance. And that’s why I’m doing it, because I believe in it, and also from an obligation towards my beloved daughters.
So do you believe that the story of one individual can have as much power to change things as the story of a nation?
Of course. The power of every one of us. The power of one. Everything my daughter Issan, God bless her soul, she said: everything starts small, then becomes big. Evertying starts in one place and grows in different directions. So just to start... everything, you know, the fire starts by a spark and then spreads. And the hope and the message, it starts by one who believes in it and spreads it and to be adopted by others who believe in it also and we can make the change. I learn from all, believe me you. They inspire me, it’s mutual, action, connection and that’s what we want. When I come here and I give a speech, I feel connected with the human being as I am, to give me energy, to give me hope, to inspire me, Izzeldin, do more and let us all of us together carry it and to take it and to move it forwards.
You know Mark? When I met Mark at Hey Festival, I gave a speech and he said Izzeldin we have a festival, here, and we would like to invite you to come. It was an idea, a few months later, look at the reality. If there is a will, there is a way. If it comes from good will, and belief in it, anything is possible. Yesterday I was in Toronto and today I am here. And this comes because of openness and connection and communication and knowing each other. So I am, you know, honoured and satisfied that I came here, and thanks to Mark, and the people who made it. We will continue, as he said, to collaborate, to bring Palestinian, Israeli students, Jordanian from the Middle East to participate. You will see them at the next festival. We will select them from amongst the students who are believing in the message, who are willing to work and to join us for this message.
Where do you take your hope from?
My hope. As I am here, I have hope. As I am living and breathing I have hope. Hope is life. As long as I am moving, I have it. I see it in the children, I see in you as young women here doing that believing in it. This is hope. And that’s what do we want, to spread it.
Do you speak to a lot of children about your hope and your message?
Personally? I prefer to speak to young people, and if I have invitation to go to students, universities, school, immediately without thinking twice I go there because I feel, and I believe in them, they have no self-interest. They have open hearts and they get the message. And they are the future. I hope next year here to have more students from universities, high schools, mothers to bring them. Go to the students, to the high school, to the universities. Bring them here to engage and to be active about participation and about giving the speeches. Because at the end, they will express themselves, they will be open, they will say what they believe in.
As you are able to do so powerfully. We’ve just seen for ourselves, when people listen to you speaking, they are incredibly moved. But has it gone further than that? Have people joined your cause and been moved to action?
Many people, you know. The emails, the letters, they say: you changed my life, you gave me hope, what can we do? So it’s a moment of change, and this moment of change, I’m sure one day now it’s spreading. One day will come like spring, it will come suddenly. So that has given me the hope to inspire me to work more and to see the impact. It’s coming soon.
How would the change manifest itself?
The change can happen. Because all of the time we talk about this world, it’s not the world that we want to live in. Where it’s ending of injustice, lack of safety, of security, of peace, so how can we change it? We are watching it without doing anything. We see the fire eating everything without trying to stop it. So it’s important to change how each of us... to take the initiative, to take the action to start: what can I do? What’s my role, what’s my mission in life? What do I want to achieve in life? We are running to the unknown.
But at the same time, the world is getting more and more messy, it is full of wars...
Why? These wars? From where? Who is making it?
Well, people...
Exactly. And that’s what can I say to you. Those people who are doing it are not doing it because they are only, they are alone in the field. There are others in the field, the others are negative and watching them and saying ‘we can’t do, it’s politics...’ NO. Those politicians, who brought them?
Their people.
Yes. They voted for them. So please try to open your eyes to select the right politicians, the right leaders, who are serving your interest and not to negate to blame them. Let them be accountable to you, open your eyes about them. Be open. Speak loudly to them, and if we make a mistake of selecting someone that wasn’t the right person, we must not repeat the same mistake. We must learn. A mistake is a mistake if we learn from it, it’s not a mistake if we repeat it. It’s enough mistakes.
JONATHAN POWELL
Jonathan Powell sits on a wall on the way to the green room, looking down over Traquair’s walled gardens and maze. His long legs swing with impatience to be off and joining the party which is slowly gathering strength backstage. But he focuses his attention, speaking intensely in fast, clipped sentences. He’s not here for long, he says - just for his piece really, to plug his book and hang out for a bit
He mentions his charity twice in the space of as many minutes. I believe he was hankering for a sneaky bit of promotion, so I won’t let him down. The charity is called Intermediate and it ‘does the things that HD in Geneva used to do, which is to try and negotiate between terrorist groups and governments and set up back channels to allow talks to happen in the way that [the labour government under Tony Blair] did in Northern Ireland.’ So check it out if you get a chance, it’s doing good things.
So, Jonathan, how did you think that went?
It went very well... what’s interesting about festivals like this is the interesting questions you get, and they’re always different. If you’re interviewed by journalists on television, you get the same old questions. What’s great when you come to a festival is you get real people, and they have very different sorts of questions. Some of them hostile, some of them friendly, but always much more interesting.
What was the most interesting question you had today?
Actually, the guy at the back who said about 9/11, saying 9/11 was a defining moment, and then asking whether Tony had already thought about it before, and how come he was so quick out of the traps. That showed a degree of following politics and memory, which is much more than most journalists do, they don’t really see that. The interesting thing about ordinary people is that they don’t pay a lot of attention day to day to politics or international events, but they have got a much better idea in their heads, whereas journalists are only interested in the now. If they’re interested in Libyia, they’re not interested in Afghanistan. If they’re interested in Afghanistan they won’t be interested in Iraq and so on. They’re very fleeting. Whereas ordinary people, intelligent people like this, have a much better perspective on things.
OK great. (He is fidgeting and swaying from side to side. I squeeze in a final question before he dashes off). Do you think the festival is achieving anything tangible or just bringing ordinary people with interesting perspectives together?
No, festivals don’t achieve something in the sense that you’re not going to bring about world peace by having a festival, but actually very little achieves major things like that. The advantage of a festival is that it gets people to think and it gets people to argue about things in a way that they wouldn’t otherwise do. You know, everyone’s in their own little rut. I was just talking to Marie Colvin who’s been in Libia, she’s a war correspondant, she’s been doing it for decades, and here she is talking to some different people she wouldn’t normally talk to, she’ll get a different perspective from it. They’ll get a different perspective from her. The guy from Zimbabwe will get a different perspective from what I get, so I think it’s valuable, but if you expect it to achieve something you can measure, then you’re making a mistake.
SIR KIERAN PRENDERGAST
Sir Kieran stands with his wife, amongst friends. He has just emerged from speaking to Marie Colvin, Rashed Rahmen, Dr. Abuelaish and Oscar Guardiola-Rivera about the Arab Spring and the Power of Democracy. Towering above us (he is positioned slightly uphill, though I suspect I might feel similarly diminished on level ground) he smiles as he looks around to find a good backdrop for the interview. His eye lands upon a giant graffitied image of Col. Gadaffi, and he marches towards it. This one, he says. We’ll do it here!
Anna moves him gently away from the painting. ‘Kieran I think this could be a bit misleading, let’s say...’ she manoeuvres him so that Traquair stands behind him, quiet in the early evening, and the crowd drift from the tent in front of him, covering the lawn. There are no further talks today, the drinks reception is gearing up, shouts of laughter from within the tent penetrate our more serious conversation, yet Sir Kieran is happy to stand and chat - questioning myself and Anna long after our interview with him has drawn to a close.
So, first things first, are you having a good time?
Yes, I’m enjoying it a lot. I think that the subject matter has been extremely interesting, the panelists have been very interesting, I would have liked quite a bit longer on one or two of the sessions - I think particularly the one on Afghanistan, which was just getting underway and I kept feeling like a schoolboy wanting to put my arm up and say, no no I want to ask a question or I want to comment... so it’s all been very well chosen.
So what do you think the aims of the festival are... it seems as if you think it’s achieving them
Well I think it’s broadening people’s minds, allowing them to interact with people who know a bit about whatever subject it is that they’re dealing with, but I personally think that the acquisition of knowledge and insight, is a sufficient end in itself to justify anything, really.
Do you think that, for example, literature and art can have any impact on solving global conficts, or do you think they’re solely useful for purposes of reflection?
Well I’m more inclined to think books than art, for example. but yes, I mean in my own personal case I get a lot of knowledge and insight from reading books and reading the experience of others, and particularly people who have a more acute capacity for observation and to link things than I do. And in my professional work, I always ask people who are dealing with a subject what have they read on it, and have they read the basics. I mean, for example, if you want to deal with Jihadism, I would ask them whether they’ve read basic texts, like The Looming Tower, and quite surprisingly often they haven’t.
So you think reading the relevant literary works is very key to understanding politics?
Yes. I mean how do you deal with a problem if you don’t really understand what is the essence of the problem? And what is the essence of the options for dealing with it? And how do you acquire that knowledge if you haven’t yourself been deeply immersed in it for decades?
And which do you think has more power? The personal story or the story of a nation?
Well you need both. I think what the personal story does is attract and retain attention in a way that something which is impersonal doesn’t. So in my own specific case I’d rather read biographies of people, and if I do read about recent history I like to see it illuminated by close accounts of what individual players were doing - what they were like, what they wanted, what they thought, how they were influenced by... because a lot of people, you know, they were influenced by things which are not really straightforward policy decisions, they are influenced by what’s happened to them personally. I got to understand a bit about Martin McGuinness for example, by a story that was told to me by a Northern Irish peer about his experience of being snubbed and insulted by a Protestant garage owner when he was a school leaver and wanted to be an apprentice. So he went to this garage and said I’m really, really keen on being an apprentice, and the chap said sorry we don’t have any openings and Martin McGuinness said well that’s all right, you know, I understand that, but please, you know, put me on the list and when there is an opening, please, I really want to be an apprentice. And the garage owner said, err... listen sonny, you don’t understand what I’m saying - what I’m telling you is that you’re a Catholic, this is a Protestant business. You are never going to be an apprentice in this business. And it’s something as personal as that that, you know, maybe started the process of radicalisation and that something fundamental needed to be done to change the situation on the ground there.
We heard today the statement that the country of England is in a national crisis. What do you think - is this kind of event.. isn’t it a bit umm, a wasted chance to be keeping it close to such an intellectual audience, should we be talking to other groups of society and including them in such wonderful debates as we’ve seen here today?
You mean we should have few hoodies up here? If they’re articulate, intelligent hoodies with an insight into their own situation, then why not.
David Starkey earlier suggested to us that that was impossible...
That’s a bit insulting actually, to think that because you’re a hoodie, or because you’re an unemployed youth or you’re alienated, that that means you’re not intelligent. I mean I think you can be both - of course there are some people who are just thugs and criminals and they have to be dealt with as such. But I learnt quite a long time ago that the way to deal with things is to regard them as criminal acts. And that includes serious issues like terrorism, for example. Don’t treat them as politcal acts. They are criminal acts - no more no less. Because you actually encourage people and dignify them if you treat murders and explosions - acts of that kind as somehow dignified and elevated by political status.
But isn’t there a certain urgency to talk to these groups instead of simply enlightening one another?
Well I’m of the anti-hysteria tendency, and I don’t believe we’re in a national crisis. I think this is one of those things that’s happened - it’s very unfortunate that it’s happened. I saw some comment that the young people of south London thought it was the fault of the police and the government - not for leaving them unemployed, but for failing to maintain law and order. I think the police should get over political comment and remind themselves that their first obligation is to maintain law and order. So people thought, well alright, the police have lost control in North London. People up there have been allowed to go and break into camera shops... oh sorry, not camera shops... mobile telephone shops, vodafone...err, so we’ll go and do the same. It’s very simple to me - you’ve got to maintain law and order. I’m not saying that the underlying social problems are perfectly simple because they’re not, um, but the primary requirement of any government, which is to maintain law and order over its own territory is paramount, and if there is a crisis it’s because the police and the government failed to do that last week.
MARIE COLVIN
Marie has lost her handbag. It’s small, it’s black, it just looks like... oh I don’t know... a handbag, she says. We help her to search for it, pushing people out of the way, scouring the edges of the tent. It is discovered, finally, against the wall where she was being photographed and she clutches it as we install her in a spot on the middle of the lawn.
Her lift calls to her, they’re heading back to change for dinner, but she prefers to stay and chat to us, she says, we’ve been pestering her for ages and she’d promised and we helped her to find her bag. We find a chair for her to sit on, she prefers to stand. She is intensely animated - the situation in Libya has suddenly developed, anti-Gadaffi protesters are on the streets of Tripoli and she’s clearly desperate to return.
She speaks of the revolt with fervent enthusiasm, she is amazed at the ingenuity, the bravery of the kids. They are only kids, she reminds us, again and again, as if she cannot quite believe it herself.
OK girls I look awful. I’ve been travelling for 14 hours, but I’ve come here because I think we’re in a historic moment. I’m excited by the Arab spring which is of course now beocming the Arab autumn. I’m excited about people rising up and doing something different, in a part of the world that was just in concrete with dictators and oppression, and suddenly kids said... they started it, and other people followed them, but it was kids who started it... they said: we’re not taking it any more! It was their ability to do it that’s what shocked me. I think why they did it is much more clear... because they have no jobs. They have this oppressive parental situation - their parents say obey the dictator, and the dictator says ‘you have no hope’ and they just said... you know what? We’re fed up. And I just went back, on this trip, I went back to Tunisia, Egypt and Libia, and I went down to the... do you remember how this started? I think we have to remember that. I went down to the hometown, Sidi Bouzid, of Mohamed, who was a vegetable seller and he was slapped by a policewoman. I think the sex is irrelevant. He was just slapped by a police person who had complete control. And he then set himself on fire in front of the mayor’s office because it was just too much - he was an educated young man. He could not marry, because you have to have money to marry. He could not get a job and he just said, come out here and talk to me - they didn’t bother and he just set himself on fire. Well that is what set it alight - we have to remember that. And what was happening was that all the kindling was there. Every young person in Tunis was fed up. Every young person in Egypt was humiliated... and in Libia.. they all said ‘yeah I’m fed up.’ What’s the difference? It’s a generation that’s educated. It’s a generation that oppressive rulers have tried to stop. They’ve learned English (on their own, by the way) and they can communicate. They can communicate and let’s not forget, this is the new world. They don’t have to send each other letters, they can communicate by social networks and they say ‘we’re not taking this any more.’ It’s a combination that’s unstoppable. They communicate via networks and they have the bravery of the Spanish civil war... the bravery of their grandparents - not their parents and they overthrow dictators.People are risking their lives in the Arab world because they think: I want a voice, I want to vote, I want to learn English, I want to learn about real history, not the Green Book. I mean one of Gadaffi’s chapters starts with ‘a man is a male and a woman is a female’ and they have to learn it by rote. I’m embarassed by what happened in Britain because they don’t know what it takes to go out and fight for freedom. They were fighting for mobile phones. I mean I’m not impressed by the twitter communication in the London riots, in the British riots. I’m incredibly impressed, for example I was out there, people were risking their lives, they were twittering they were facebooking, they were going down, and they were being shot at - it’s a big deal going out and doing that.
Ok, so let’s bring it back to what’s going on here. As you say we’re seeing such a unique and critical moment in history and how do you think an event like this relates to what’s going on in the larger picture. Does it help? Does it give you inspiration? Does it give you new ideas? Or do you think, OK that was lovely, I had some nice wine.
Um. I’m here having been to Tunisia, Cairo, Libia... I spent a lot of my year in Libia... because you can’t be seperate. There are interesting people here who talk to me, who I want to hear. I don’t... I’m not somebody who is this great guru, I absolutely know when I’m in Libia with the rebels, that they’re the right guys, I mean they’re good. The reason I’m here is because you have intellectuals who are thinking and creating... wonderful... the whole idea that an artist can influence something in politics... we all need to talk to each other and listen to each other. I’m here because I want to learn. And I think that what I learn (and my learning is communicating) what I learn it makes me.... being at Traquair makes me better able to communicate.
ALLAN MASSIE
Allan Massie is a softly spoken man. He is an academic, primarily, and uncomfortable as I seat him on a chair and ask him questions to which he doesn’t really have answers. His responses are short and to the point, a digression such as David Starkey is capable of was clearly out of the question. But he was polite and earnest and willing to start the interview again once he realised that my very basic questions were not just a small-talk introduction a more challenging interview proper!
So who are you most looking forward to seeing?
Well I’m certainly looking forward to seeing Willie Dalrymple this afternoon, because he’s always fascinating, and Allan Little, the last time I saw Allan was in the club car of the night sleeper coming up from London, and he was just back from Libya, and was going out again to let us know what exactly Colonel Gadaffi was up to, so I’d like to catch up on that.
Do you believe that coming together to talk about literature is useful for anything further than reflection? Do you think it can help towards solving international conflicts?
I think it’s probably more useful for reflection, I mean it would be very nice to think that arts and literature could help solve international questions, but I’m afraid they don’t. I’m rather of this W.H. Auden, who said ‘poetry makes nothing happen’... I mean it might stir up things, which it does, but I don’t think it helps at all. On the other hand, obviously, a world in which art and literature have no place would be a rather desperately sad place.
So do you think a festival such as this is useful, or do you think it’s just a very pleasant event?
I think that these sorts of festivals are certainly enjoyable, but they can be useful - some of the discussions may encourage people to think in a different way, to understand questions more widely or thoroughly than they did already, so to that extent it can be useful, but festivals, as the name suggests are first of all for enjoyment.
Absolutely. So do you think that this particular festival has a future and that it would be a good idea to make it grow to include a much wider audience, or do you think it works well because the audience is both elite and learned?
Well I think the books festivals that I know and that I enjoy the most are those that have kept themselves fairly small, because they develop a character of their own which the larger festivals tend to lose, I mean the Edinburgh book festival is marvellous, but it’s a bit like a conveyor belt, and I think that small festivals have a charm that the big ones can’t possibly have and from the point of view of people who appear at them, I think small festivals tend to be more enjoyable, as you’ve more time to talk to other writers, and to get a chance at meeting people who read your books and so I suspect that the reverse is true, that people come to the smaller literary festivals because they acknowledge that these events are more agreeable.
MORDECAI MAHLANGU
Mordecai smiles. He has no problem with being interviewed, has told me to grab him whenever I am ready. We stand, facing one another outside the green room. It is fast becoming another beautiful day and he leans against the wall as he talks, unassuming and very likable. The previous evening, Mark and Catherine Muller Stuart hosted an enormous dinner in the dining room at Traquair for all of the speakers, many of whom, I imagine, are feeling slightly worse for wear this morning! But Mordecai is chirpy and thoroughly enthused about the festival so far.
So, first things first, how did you think that went?
Well you know, I think there was more interest in Zimbabwe than I expected, actually, and I guess I thought we were getting off the headlines! I thought that the fellow who was in charge understood the subject very well, and I hope it was informative for the audience. Also, you know, speaking for myself, er, I do believe that we must all remain positive. The Zimbabwean story is really about the failure of human nature, more than anything else, and we must appreciate that that’s an ongoing human problem. There’s no quick fix for that.
So what are you thoughts therefore on Dr. Izzeldin Abulaish’s message that you must relinquish hate?
I don’t know... I just, in many ways, it’s alright maybe in Palestine, in Africa it’s naive. Because if you don’t hate, if you don’t do anything to stop these things, they will happen, and some of the atrocities that have happened in Africa are something, it’s not something you can allow to happen, if you have the power to stop it. I know that hate is a very strong word, but I would use the word that, you know, justice must prevail. The rule of law must prevail, everybody must account for what they do. You know I mean at the moment they don’t account, they don’t have to account.
And do you think a festival like this is useful in the mission to make everybody accountable?
I think it is. I mean to what I don’t know is to what extent what is said here gets publicised. You know, because I think, you know, one of the things that I try and do is to influence public opinion. And to what extent you can achieve it here, I don’t know. But yeah, I think it’s a good this, I’ve thoroughly enjoyed it - speaking myself and listening to some of the contributions.
Any particular favourite?
Well yes, the discussion about Afghanistan, Pakistan, the Middle East, you know Libya, that kind of thing. You know, those issues are topical. You know and politicians are making dreadful decisions all the time, you know often they are not thinking about long term effective policy. So yes, I found those very very interesting. But then again, I say to myself, you know to what extent is anybody listening?
Do you think the discussions are maybe too broad and too short? Or is it good to have a taster?
No, no I don’t think so, I mean short of writing a book, you know you have to remember the concentration span of people, if you had that discussion for more than two hours, by the time you are done you know, most people will think about something else, or will have left the room. So you know, one has to balance that, in relality. I think the very fact that people took their time to come out here, to participate is very encouraging. And as I was saying yesterday, in Zimbabwe you can’t even put people in a room and have a sensible political discussion - it’s actually illegal. You’ve got to get police permission, you need to notify the police.
RASHED RAHMAN
Rashed is my final interviewee. Everyone else is tired or distracted or impossible to pin down. I have been faced with several ‘I’ll come and find you’s’ - translatable directly or indirectly as ‘go away!’ Many speakers have to rush off immediately after their talk, it’s a Sunday evening and the new week’s commitments are looming. Equally, the sense of excitement is growing, spirits are high. David Starkey is talking about the future of Scotland and the audience has started heckling the speakers.
But Rashed is very happy to talk. He enjoys it. He is enjoying everything about the weekend - never wants to leave! He is playful and his enthusiasm is catching, the more he talks, the more I want him to talk, and his words have a certain gravitas (as well as being thoroughly endearing) that makes people listen to what he has to say.
How are you enjoying the festival?
[he grins and looks conspirital]
Oooo... I’m loving it. You don’t know how this came about. I met Mark at the Japiur literary festival, quite by chance. We bumped into each other, we were having dinner together, we got into a chat. And we were so enthused with each other that he immediately turned round and said, would you like to come to the Edinburgh festival? I said, are you kidding? Of course I’d like to come. So here I am, you know? And this is, if anything, an advertisment for these festivals, because they put people together. It’s wonderful. I mean look at the place - it’s so inspiring you know. I want to stay here, I don’t want to go. And apart from the setting, the level of the discussions and the kind of presentations that are being made, ah it’s stimulating, it’s great.
So do you think it’s useful?
Yes. Hmm. What am I saying. It’s not just only about what is being said or discussed or presented, it’s the way people come together and interact. And what is that doing? That’s spreading the word, it’s spreading the message. Despite our modern means of communication, there is no better means than face to face contact. That’s what it’s about. And from that angle I think it is a roaring success. A tremendous success.
It is, and everyone is so enthusiastic. But what I and what Anna, who was videoing with me yesterday, were wondering, is whether you think, whether anyone thinks, that the festival could grow to include a slightly wider audience. Because everybody here is already pretty knowledgeable...
Well that is always, you know, a balance that you have to strike. Because obviously there is going to be a core community at a festival - a lot of it is local, it has to be, that is the nature of things. But of course you want to reach more people, you want to invite more people. But there are problems of finance, logistics, outreach. But it’s not beyond doing - I mean, it can be done and I think it needs to be done and I think, this is a setting where if you invite anyone from any part of the world, including mine, you know you’re seduced for life.
So who are you looking forward to seeing talk?
Well we’ve got something on the Scots, I believe, next. Which is going to be interesting because what we heard this morning about the Stuarts contradicts what, I think will be said at the sessions. Then this is a good one, Dispatches from the Dark Side... I mean all of them.
Are you learning anything?
Shall I be honest? Most of it I know. I’m not being arrogant, please, you must understand. It’s just it’s my business to know. But obviously it enriches me, it gives me detail, it gives me nuance, it gives me shades, it gives me opinions and yes, it does broaden my vision and broaden my mind. Even I!
So, to change the subject slightly, are you positive about the future of Pakistan? Becauae you’ve just been discussing a lot of negatives...
I had to get through the negatives in 45 minutes, there are a lot of them. You know 64 years in 45 minutes is pretty open fire if you know what I mean. But yes, I am hopeful - I am hopeful to the extent that I think there is a struggle on, and there will be a struggle and unfortunately it may turn out to be bloody, but that’s the shape of things. Because it’s a heavily armed society now - if you look at what’s going on Karachi, the place is falling apart, it’s a free for all, there are killings every day, 9 killings today, 30 yesterday, you know, it’s falling apart. This is quite apart from the other terrorism that we are going through and the insurgency in Balochistan, which is another problem altogether. So we are in shit [he laughs]. But we’re going to have to dig our way through it, you know. There’s no other way. But I’m hopeful. I’m always hopeful - I’m an incorrigible optimist.
Clare Hammond Bio
Clare Hammond is a freelance journalist who studied English Literature at Trinity College, Dublin and Université Paris Diderot. She writes for Prospect magazine, and For Books' Sake, a literary website by women for women.
