Argentina’s "Falklands debt" goes to the heart of our unethical foreign policy

The government should remember our shameful role in arming the junta.

The anniversary of war should be a time for learning the lessons of history - particularly when the injustice of a war continues to this day. Some documents exposed by Jubilee Debt Campaign this week expose a cynical approach to British foreign policy which should shock both British and Argentine citizens.

Argentina’s outstanding debt to the UK is £45 million. This week we have uncovered how much of this debt was run-up. In the years leading up to the Falklands War the British government was flogging one of the most unpleasant dictatorships in the world British weapons. 

A military coup in 1976 brought a wave of terror to Argentina. The ‘dirty war’ which the coup ushered in was a period of state terrorism in which as many as 30,000 people were killed or ‘disappeared’. Political parties and trade unions were banned, whilst religious groups had to apply for approval from the state.

The British government at the time was well aware of the nature of the regime in Argentina. In a document from Foreign Secretary David Owen to the Ministry of Defence in 1979, Owen describes the junta as a “regime whose human rights record is worse than Chile, and which could come close to a confrontation with us over the Falklands.” Pinochet’s Chile faced sanctions at the time, as a result of a policy made by the then government at the previous election. But Argentina faced no such restrictions. 

Owen understood the problems with selling weapons to Argentina, but concluded that “it is not possible to achieve complete consistency in our approach to this problem and that to attempt to do so would impose unreasonable constraints upon us.” As a result Argentina was sold two Type 42 Destroyers, two Lynx helicopters and twenty-two Sea Dart missiles.

These weapons sales - and likely a variety of other military equipment sold - were backed by an effective loan from a British government department called the Export Credits Guarantee Department. Indeed, such a good client was the Argentine junta, that in October 1979 the British raised the amount of loans it could back to Argentina from £100 million to £500 million to “provide room ... for the potential arms contracts.”

Both the destroyers and Lynx helicopters were used in the invasion of the Falklands - one of the Lynx’s was the first Argentine aircraft to land on the Falklands after the invasion. Indeed when the Falklands War was underway, Argentina should still have been paying the British Government for weapons being used against British soldiers.

These issues were aired - including in parliament at the time. What’s worrying is that the replies received are exactly the same replies received by arms campaigners today: when Lord Averbury asked whether it was “unwise to sell military weapons of any kind while the Falklands’ problem remains unresolved?” he was told “the government takes into account the use to which the equipment might be put”.

After defeat in the Falklands Argentina’s military junta was kicked out of power in the 1983 elections. Through the 1980s the economy suffered from the huge foreign debt the government inherited, which led to stagnation and increases in unemployment and poverty. Many argued it was a classic case of ‘odious debt’ and the new government should simply refuse to pay the sorts of debts owed to the UK. Indeed a famous court case in 2000 found that loans to Argentina under the dictatorship were part of "a damaging economic policy that forced [Argentina] on its knees through various methods ... and which tended to benefit and support private companies - national and foreign - to the detriment of society".

In order to keep paying this odious debt, Argentina's governments accumulated ever more debt. New loans repay old debts. By the 1990s, courtesy of advice and bail-out packages from the International Monetary Fund the economy entered a crisis and - after five governments in two weeks over Christmas 2001 - defaulted. The improvement both in the economy and Argentina’s democratic model improved significantly - no thanks to the so-called international community.

What should worry us today is that David Owen was not alone at the time - or indeed since - in placing the interests of the arms industry ahead of being a good global citizen. Owen, like many others after him, expressed ‘reservations’ about some of the arms sales, but in the end narrowly perceived economic and strategic interests won out.

The UK has spent years arming dictators and the debts ‘owed’ to this country can be linked back with some of the worst regimes of the last 40 years - General Suharto of Indonesia, Hosni Mubarak in Egypt, Saddam Hussein in Iraq, not to mention the royal family of Saudi Arabia. At the centre of these deals was the Export Credits Guarantee Department, now rebranded as UK Export Finance and under the stewardship of Vince Cable’s Department of Business.

In opposition, Cable regularly railed against the sorts of deals done with the Argentine junta, and his party promised in power to audit such debts and cancel those deemed reckless. It’s surely difficult to imagine a more reckless loan that one which supported arms sales to Argentina in the late 1970s. The government should use the Falklands anniversary not to wave flags, but to remember our own shameful role in arming an atrocious regimes around the world and make some efforts at recompense - for the lives of British and Argentine soldiers lost. 

Nick Dearden is the director of Jubilee Debt Campaign

Relatives of victims wait to hear the sentences of 30 leaders of the last dictatorship. Photograph: Getty Images.
Getty
Show Hide image

Inside Big Ben: why the world’s most famous clock will soon lose its bong

Every now and then, even the most famous of clocks need a bit of care.

London is soon going to lose one of its most familiar sounds when the world-famous Big Ben falls silent for repairs. The “bonging” chimes that have marked the passing of time for Londoners since 1859 will fall silent for months beginning in 2017 as part of a three-year £29m conservation project.

Of course, “Big Ben” is the nickname of the Great Bell and the bell itself is not in bad shape – even though it does have a huge crack in it.

The bell weighs nearly 14 tonnes and it cracked in 1859 when it was first bonged with a hammer that was way too heavy.

The crack was never repaired. Instead the bell was rotated one eighth of a turn and a lighter (200kg) hammer was installed. The cracked bell has a characteristic sound which we have all grown to love.

Big Ben strikes. UK Parliament.

Instead, it is the Elizabeth Tower (1859) and the clock mechanism (1854), designed by Denison and Airy, that need attention.

Any building or machine needs regular maintenance – we paint our doors and windows when they need it and we repair or replace our cars quite routinely. It is convenient to choose a day when we’re out of the house to paint the doors, or when we don’t need the car to repair the brakes. But a clock just doesn’t stop – especially not a clock as iconic as the Great Clock at the Palace of Westminster.

Repairs to the tower are long overdue. There is corrosion damage to the cast iron roof and to the belfry structure which keeps the bells in place. There is water damage to the masonry and condensation problems will be addressed, too. There are plumbing and electrical works to be done for a lift to be installed in one of the ventilation shafts, toilet facilities and the fitting of low-energy lighting.

Marvel of engineering

The clock mechanism itself is remarkable. In its 162-year history it has only had one major breakdown. In 1976 the speed regulator for the chimes broke and the mechanism sped up to destruction. The resulting damage took months to repair.

The weights that drive the clock are, like the bells and hammers, unimaginably huge. The “drive train” that keeps the pendulum swinging and that turns the hands is driven by a weight of about 100kg. Two other weights that ring the bells are each over a tonne. If any of these weights falls out of control (as in the 1976 incident), they could do a lot of damage.

The pendulum suspension spring is especially critical because it holds up the huge pendulum bob which weighs 321kg. The swinging pendulum releases the “escapement” every two seconds which then turns the hands on the clock’s four faces. If you look very closely, you will see that the minute hand doesn’t move smoothly but it sits still most of the time, only moving on each tick by 1.5cm.

The pendulum swings back and forth 21,600 times a day. That’s nearly 8m times a year, bending the pendulum spring. Like any metal, it has the potential to suffer from fatigue. The pendulum needs to be lifted out of the clock so that the spring can be closely inspected.

The clock derives its remarkable accuracy in part from the temperature compensation which is built into the construction of the pendulum. This was yet another of John Harrison’s genius ideas (you probably know him from longitude fame). He came up with the solution of using metals of differing temperature expansion coefficient so that the pendulum doesn’t change in length as the temperature changes with the seasons.

In the Westminster clock, the pendulum shaft is made of concentric tubes of steel and zinc. A similar construction is described for the clock in Trinity College Cambridge and near perfect temperature compensation can be achieved. But zinc is a ductile metal and the tube deforms with time under the heavy load of the 321kg pendulum bob. This “creeping” will cause the temperature compensation to jam up and become less effective.

So stopping the clock will also be a good opportunity to dismantle the pendulum completely and to check that the zinc tube is sliding freely. This in itself is a few days' work.

What makes it tick

But the truly clever bit of this clock is the escapement. All clocks have one - it’s what makes the clock tick, quite literally. Denison developed his new gravity escapement especially for the Westminster clock. It decouples the driving force of the falling weight from the periodic force that maintains the motion of the pendulum. To this day, the best tower clocks in England use the gravity escapement leading to remarkable accuracy – better even than that of your quartz crystal wrist watch.

In Denison’s gravity escapement, the “tick” is the impact of the “legs” of the escapement colliding with hardened steel seats. Each collision causes microscopic damage which, accumulated over millions of collisions per year, causes wear and tear affecting the accuracy of the clock. It is impossible to inspect the escapement without stopping the clock. Part of the maintenance proposed during this stoppage is a thorough overhaul of the escapement and the other workings of the clock.

The Westminster clock is a remarkable icon for London and for England. For more than 150 years it has reminded us of each hour, tirelessly. That’s what I love about clocks – they seem to carry on without a fuss. But every now and then even the most famous of clocks need a bit of care. After this period of pampering, “Big Ben” ought to be set for another 100 or so years of trouble-free running.

The Conversation

Hugh Hunt is a Reader in Engineering Dynamics and Vibration at the University of Cambridge.

This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.