Lessons from the Iraq war

The end of the Iraq war comes at a time when apathy is turning into discontent for students in Brita

The end of the Iraq war comes at a time when apathy is turning into discontent for students in Britain.

By any stretch of imagination it has been an intense twelve months; the Arab Spring may-well feature as the defining moment of the decade to come, the 'Occupy' movement perseveres and we have seen large scale public sector strikes for the first time in a generation. Yet when we seek to uncover the birth of this current discontentment we need to look further. I believe it started nine years ago - and the Iraq war has in fact shaped the political attitude of my generation. So as Obama marked the end to the failed Iraq war, with at least a million dead, we need to start connecting the dots.

Marching in 2003 against the war, and coming to organise demonstrations in Manchester was certainly a significant moment towards my serving today as Vice-President Higher Education for NUS.

But whilst it was certainly a politicizing moment for many, it is also the case that for a generation constantly asked to participate in mainstream democracy, the system failed us - it simply didn't listen. And today as I travel across the country speaking with young people, the same anecdotes are presented on campus - "things are already decided and you can't do anything about it, so why bother?", "nobody listens in Parliament!" Surprisingly, the war, despite disappearing from public discourse, is rarely far from this conversation. Iraq presented a politicizing moment for some whilst also encouraging feelings of apathy in many others.

We have come to speak of a 'lost generation'. This is often, correctly, expressed as an economic and a social phenomenon - but it is also a real risk politically. My generation have engaged through the political structures - we marched in record numbers against Iraq, students were turned away from polling stations in student-heavy constituencies as they turned out to vote in 2010, and last year 50,000 of us marched against the trebling of tuition fees and tuition fees in the largest student demonstration in a generation. With little tangible to show for this - the war went on, the Liberal Democrats broke their pledge to students and tuition fees were trebled - the political class taught a generation that no matter how strong your argument or how many you are, your political participation is pointless.

As we look ahead, though governments have changed and enquiries have played out in the public eye, lessons do not seem to have been learnt. Barbaric intervention - against the will of a nation - not only killed a million but crippled generation's quality of life (including as we are seeing through the results of nuclear waste). Yet frighteningly, our own government officials have noted that should the US plan to strike at Iran, it would "seek, and receive, UK military help". David Miliband has already warned against "sleepwalking into a war with Iran" - the student movement must be ready to challenge what would be a further monumental miscalculation.

The end of the Iraq war comes at a time when apathy is turning into discontent for students in Britain. We rose strongly against the government's changes reform of higher education funding. The temperature of our global political climate is rising and priorities are changing - Occupy is a very real and new social movement, the Arab spring provides us confidence, and students have featured at the heart of both. Whilst others are powerfully claiming their role in democracy abroad, it is a time like no other for us to think about how to utilize our politicization that is gathering apace - and bring it into the mainstream.

Our student leadership has rightly spearheaded the fight against cuts to higher education, student quality and championed widening participation - and we will continue to do so as a priority. I was reminded that the National Union of Students was formed in 1922 - on the back of World War I, set up to fight for world peace. Ninety years on from then, and nine years on from the Iraq war, we must too reconnect with those striving for justice. In the same way that I shared the hurt of my colleagues at University who cried as members of their families were killed in Iraq, today we must take from the students in Egypt and Tunisia who organised beyond differences; indeed we must move beyond slogans and be pragmatic.

At a Conference I attended on Tuesday on the government's heavily-criticised and anti-dissent Prevent strategy in Leicester, Jesse Jackson rebuked that "radical rejection leads to radical reactions". The lost generation is finding itself again - it found me, not in Tahrir Square, but in Manchester. Let now the radical reaction of students in Britain transform apathy into activism, as the global movement to recapture our democracy comes home.

Usman Ali is the Vice President (Higher Education) of the National Union of Students

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A father’s murderous rage, the first victims of mass killers and Trump’s phantom campaign

From the family courts to the US election campaigns.

On 21 June, Ben Butler was found guilty of murdering his six-year-old daughter, Ellie. She had head injuries that looked like she’d been in a car crash, according to the pathologist, possibly the result of being thrown against a wall. Her mother, Jennie Gray, 36, was found guilty of perverting the course of justice, placing a fake 999 call after the girl was already dead.

When the trial first started, I clicked on a link and saw a picture of Ben and Ellie. My heart started pounding. I recognised them: as a baby, Ellie had been taken away from Butler and Gray (who were separated) after social services suggested he had been shaking her. He had been convicted of abuse but the conviction was overturned on appeal. So then he wanted his daughter back.

That’s when I spoke to him. He had approached the Daily Mail, where I then worked, to tell his story: a father unjustly separated from his beloved child by uncaring bureaucracy. I sent a writer to interview him and he gave her the full works, painting himself as a father victimised by a court system that despises men and casually breaks up families on the say-so of faceless council apparatchiks.

The Mail didn’t run the story; I suspect that Butler and Gray, being separated, didn’t seem sufficiently sympathetic. I had to tell him. He raged down the phone at me with a vigour I can remember half a decade later. Yet here’s the rub. I went away thinking: “Well, I’d be pretty angry if I was falsely ­accused and my child was taken away from me.” How can you distinguish the legitimate anger of a man who suffered a miscarriage of justice from the hair-trigger rage of a violent, controlling abuser?

In 2012, a family court judge believed in the first version of Ben Butler. Eleven months after her father regained custody of her, Ellie Butler was dead.

 

Red flags

Social workers and judges will never get it right 100 per cent of the time, but there does seem to be one “red flag” that was downplayed in Ben Butler’s history. In 2005, he pleaded guilty to assaulting his ex-girlfriend Hannah Hillman after throttling her outside a nightclub. He also accepted a caution for beating her up outside a pub in Croydon. (He had other convictions for violence.) The family judge knew this.

Butler also battered Jennie Gray. As an accessory to his crime, she will attract little sympathy – her parents disowned her after Ellie’s death – and it is hard to see how any mother could choose a violent brute over her own child. However, even if we cannot excuse her behaviour, we need to understand why she didn’t leave: what “coercive control” means in practice. We also need to fight the perception that domestic violence is somehow different from “real” violence. It’s not; it’s just easier to get away with.

 

Shooter stats

On the same theme, it was no surprise to learn that the Orlando gunman who killed 49 people at a gay club had beaten up his ex-wife. Everytown for Gun Safety, a gun control group, looked at FBI data on mass killings and found that 16 per cent of attackers had previously been charged with domestic violence, and 57 per cent of the killings included a family member. The Sandy Hook gunman’s first victim was his mother.

 

Paper candidate

Does Donald Trump’s presidential campaign exist if he is not on television saying something appalling about minorities? On 20 June, his campaign manager Corey Lew­andowski quit (or was pushed out). The news was broken to the media by Trump’s 27-year-old chief press officer, Hope Hicks. She was talent-spotted by The Donald after working for his daughter Ivanka, and had never even volunteered on a campaign before, never mind orchestrated national media coverage for a presidential candidate.

At least there aren’t that many staffers for her to keep in line. The online magazine Slate’s Jamelle Bouie reported that Trump currently has 30 staffers nationwide. Three-zero. By contrast, Bouie writes, “Team Clinton has hired 50 people in Ohio alone.” Trump has also spent a big fat zero on advertising in swing states – though he would argue his appearances on 24-hour news channels and Twitter are all the advertising he needs. And he has only $1.3m in his campaign war chest (Clinton has $42.5m).

It feels as though Trump’s big orange visage is the facial equivalent of a Potemkin village: there’s nothing behind the façade.

 

Divided Johnsons

Oh, to be a fly on the wall at the Johnson family Christmas celebrations. As Boris made much of his late conversion to Leave, the rest of the clan – his sister Rachel, father Stanley and brothers, Leo and Jo – all declared for Remain. Truly, another great British institution torn apart by the referendum.

 

Grrr-eat revelations

The highlight of my week has been a friend’s Facebook thread where she asked everyone to share a surprising true fact about themselves. They were universally amazing, from suffering a cardiac arrest during a job interview to being bitten by a tiger. I highly recommend repeating the experience with your own friends. Who knows what you’ll find out? (PS: If it’s juicy, let me know.)

Peter Wilby is away

Helen Lewis is deputy editor of the New Statesman. She has presented BBC Radio 4’s Week in Westminster and is a regular panellist on BBC1’s Sunday Politics.

This article first appeared in the 23 June 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Divided Britain