Ricin! The Inside Story of the Terror Plot That Never Was

ricinThis book provides a definitive guide to the much hyped ‘terrorist threat’ known as the ‘ricin plot’, which was used by the British government and media to scaremonger the public into backing the brutal occupations of Iraq and Afghanistan.

In January 2003 police raided a flat in Wood Green and arrested six men on suspicion of manufacturing the poison ricin for use in a terrorist attack.  Other arrests followed in London and Manchester.  A month later US Chief of Staff Colin Powell cited the ‘UK poison cell’ in his appeal to the UN to back the invasion of Iraq.  In 2004 and 2005 the criminal trials of the ‘ricin plotters’ fell apart as it was clear there was no case against them.

Lawrence Archer was a jury foreman at one of the trials. The experience changed his life and led him to co-author this book, which explains how not only was there no ricin poison manufactured in the so-called ‘factory of death’,  but how the prosecution were unable to provide  any evidence that the defendants were an organised terrorist cell or had any connection to Al Qaeda.

To get hold of such information to tie the five together, the British police relied on details of Algerians in London, extracted from main suspect Mohammed Meguerba, while he was being tortured in 2002 in Algeria.

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SUS: British police – racist police!

sus_dvdA review of SUS (2010) by Barrie Keefe, directed by Robert Heath, available on DVD

Director Robert Heath revives writer Barrie Keefe's stage play in a new film depicting a harrowing case of police racism and brutality, set during the election night of 1979. Clint Dyer plays Delroy, a black man who is held in custody on suspicion of murdering his wife, during which time he is humiliated and beaten by police officers Karn and Wilby in order to extract a confession by any means.

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South of the Border, Oliver Stone, 2010

oliverSometimes a film is of such extraordinary quality that you can be captivated by it before seeing it. So it was for me in the case of Oliver Stone’s latest documentary, South of the Border, about the latest wave of anti-imperialist struggles in Latin America. Stone was planning to introduce the film in person but his views were deemed so threatening to the ruling class on both sides of the Atlantic that the British government wouldn’t let him in. Meanwhile, reviewers castigated Stone for being biased in favour of the Bolivarian Revolution in Venezuela; needless to say, few if any of these reviewers saw anything wrong with being biased in favour of imperialism. For a film to antagonise so many reactionaries so quickly…what was there not to like?

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Malcolm X: revolutionary voice for our epoch / FRFI 217 Oct/Nov 2010

FRFI 217 October/November 2010

Malcolm X, Black liberation and the road to workers’ power Jack Barnes, Pathfinder Press 2009, £15

This book, by the leader of the US Socialist Workers Party, is a timely analysis of the contribution by Malcolm X to the black liberation struggle in the United States.

Barnes takes us from Malcolm’s early years, including attacks on the family home and eventually the murder of his father by white racists, through his attempts to make a living in Boston from petty crime, to his conversion in prison to the Nation of Islam. From mid-1953 he was a full-time organiser for the Nation and became its most prominent public face, even more so than its leader Elijah Muhammad, who maintained absolute power within the organisation.

Conflict was inevitable as Malcolm came up against the bourgeois limits of the organisation’s programme. ‘The Nation leadership sought to carve out a place for itself within the US capitalist system. Malcolm, to the contrary, was being politically drawn more and more toward the rising struggles for black freedom in the United States and revolutionary battles by the oppressed and exploited the world over’ (p78). In 1960, when Fidel Castro first came to address the UN General Assembly and discovered that Manhattan hotels were refusing to accommodate the Cuban delegation, it was Malcolm who arranged for them to stay at Hotel Theresa in Harlem (p109). Malcolm noted that Castro had come out against lynchings in the US, and was promoting equality for black Cubans. So important was that alliance to the Cubans that on 19 September this year, 50 years after Castro first came to Harlem, Cuban Foreign Minister Bruno Rodriguez participated in a commemoration event just yards from where Hotel Theresa used to stand and told the crowd that support from Malcolm and other black leaders in 1960 had ‘forged a lasting bond between Cuban revolutionaries and the African-American progressive people’.

Over time, Malcolm’s disillusionment with Elijah Muhammad’s leadership grew as he struggled to get the Nation to take an active role in the civil rights struggles. But ‘the organisation wouldn’t do that because the stand it would have to take would have been too militant, uncompromising and activist, and the hierarchy had gotten conservative’ (Young Socialist interview, January 1965; Barnes, p46). To make matters worse, Malcolm learned – from Elijah Muhammad himself – that the Nation’s leader was sexually abusing women members. Finally, in November 1963, Elijah Muhammad publicly silenced Malcolm for remarking, after the assassination of John F Kennedy, that ‘the chickens have come home to roost’.

In March 1964, Malcolm announced his break with The Nation and the formation of the Muslim Mosque Inc, which would take a more active role in the civil rights struggle. But he quickly realised that a strictly religious organisation could not lead the mass actions for which it had been formed, and established another, the Organization of Afro-American Unity (OAAU).

Over the next few months Malcolm embarked on a tour of recently-independent African countries. He had for years been strongly anti-imperialist; now he was also overtly anti-capitalist and pro-socialist, inspired by the examples set by the Cuban revolution and the Algerian government of Ahmed Ben Bela. Previously, as Malcolm told Jack Barnes and Barry Sheppard in the Young Socialist interview, he had considered himself a black nationalist, this being ‘the idea that the black man should control the economy of his community, the politics of his community and so forth’ (p47). Not any longer. ‘If you notice, I haven’t been using the expression for several months’ (p48). Malcolm’s bottom line was simple: whatever his colour, the Algerian Ahmed Ben Bela, like Castro and Che Guevara, was among the true revolutionaries, dedicated to overturning the system of exploitation ‘by any means necessary’ (p47). When asked his opinion of the worldwide struggle between capitalism and socialism, he replied that capitalism was ‘like a vulture…it’s only a matter of time, in my opinion, before it will collapse completely’ (p56).

There is much to support Barnes’ contention that ‘if Malcolm is to be compared with any international figure, the most striking parallel is with Fidel Castro’ (p41). Barnes believes that Malcolm was converging with communism (definitely), specifically with the SWP. I am less convinced of that, although Malcolm maintained good relations with the SWP over his last year, praising its newspaper, The Militant, as ‘one of the best anywhere you go today’ (p34).

But the theory that there was any convergence between Malcolm X and the leadership of the civil rights movement, especially with Martin Luther King, is demolished here. For example, in June 1964, Malcolm sent King a telegram on behalf of the OAAU saying that if the government wouldn’t defend activists who had been beaten by the Klan and arrested for organising civil rights protests, ‘just say the word and we will immediately dispatch some of our brothers there to organise self-defence units’ (p126) – an offer King rejected as a ‘grave error’ and ‘an immoral approach’.

On 15 February 1965, he revealed for the first time why the Nation of Islam had stopped attacking the Klan. As far back as 1960, the Nation’s leadership had been negotiating with the Klan on Elijah Muhammad’s instructions – talks that Malcolm had taken part in, something he was now ashamed of.

By now, Malcolm was receiving constant death threats and on 21 February 1965, he was gunned down as he stood up to address an OAAU rally in New York in an assassination Barnes concludes could equally have been organised by the cops, elements within the Nation – or both (pp147-50).

I would have appreciated more analysis of the Black Panthers, an avowedly Marxist-Leninist organisation which put into action Malcolm’s slogan of black self-defence. But overall this is an excellent introduction to the place of Malcolm X in the struggle for black liberation as part of the socialist revolution in the key citadel of world imperialism – a struggle that has lost nothing in urgency through the installation of a black front man for the capitalist rulers in the White House.

Mike Webber

Revolutionary Cuba: saving lives across the globe / FRFI 217 Oct/Nov 2010

FRFI 217 October/November 2010

cuban_medical_internationalism_origins_evolution_and_goals Cuban medical internationalism, origins, evolution and goals

John M Kirk and H Michael Erisman, Palgrave Macmillan 2009, £57

‘The life of a single human being is worth a million times more than all the property of the richest man on earth . . . Far more important than good remuneration is the pride of serving one’s neighbour.’

(Che Guevara, 1960, On Revolutionary Medicine)

The phenomenal achievements of Cuba’s health system are recognised throughout the world, even by critics of the socialist island. What is perhaps less discussed is the impact of Cuba’s health interventions throughout the underdeveloped world. With a population of just 11.3 million, Cuba punches above its weight in the international health arena: it has 40,000 medical staff engaged abroad and the largest international medical school in the world; since 2004, 1.5 million people in Latin America and the Caribbean have had their eyesight restored for free by Cuba. As Wayne Smith, director of the Cuba Program at the Center for International Policy in Washington put it: ‘Cuba is credited with saving more lives in the developing countries than all the G8 countries together. How has it done this?’ It is both the ‘how’ and the ‘why’ that Erisman and Kirk have set out to explore here, bringing together four years of research to begin to provide the answers.

This book brings together data covering the 50 years since the 1959 Revolution to show the extent to which Cuba’s health programmes have resulted in ‘better life and indeed life itself for dispossessed people all over the world’.

Cuba’s health initiatives, they show, outstrip the contribution of the World Health Organisation and Medecins Sans Frontieres (MSF). Cuba’s medical teams are working in 80 countries, caring for approximately 70 million people.

Cuba sent its first international health brigade to Algeria in 1963. Since then, over 124,000 health professionals have worked in 103 countries. As well as Comprehensive Medical Programmes set up at the request of the home country, Cuba continues to send emergency brigades, for example to Honduras after Hurricane Mitch in 1998 and to Haiti after Hurricane George in the same year, despite aid groups saying it was too dangerous.

Haiti is a good example of the impact of Cuban medical intervention. By 2004, Cubans were providing health care to 75% of its 8.3 million people, contributing to a fall in infant mortality from 80 per 1,000 live births to 28; 247 students were studying at a medical school founded by the Cubans. By 2005, 600 Haitian students were studying medicine in Cuba, and the first group of Cuban-trained Haitian doctors had returned to work in Haiti. The president of Guyana, Bharrat Jagdeo, told US president George Bush in 2007 that ‘if Cuba were to withdraw their doctors from Haiti, their health system would collapse’. Since the book’s publication we have of course witnessed the vital role played by Cuban doctors in Haiti in the aftermath of a devastating earthquake in January 2010.

The authors detail the many countries, from Gambia to East Timor, where Cuban health professionals have worked and continue to work, underpinned by many useful tables. But they also examine the rationale for Cuba’s approach, and compare it with what they call the ‘First World’. In the first place, the aid they offer actually arrives, unlike most of the developed countries, which are quick to promise much and slow to deliver anything.

Cuba’s Latin American Medical School (ELAM) provides free education to international students from poor countries, who then return home to practise. Cuba also trains medical staff in the countries where it operates. For example, by 2007, there were 20,000 Venezuelan medical students being trained by Cubans in Venezuela and 2,400 Venezuelan medical students in Cuba. Over the next decade, Cuba and Venezuela intend to train 200,000 doctors. Cuba is contributing to the ‘brain gain’ rather than the brain drain through which developed countries poach doctors trained in oppressed nations.

Kirk and Erisman contrast the overall ethos that underpins Cuba’s attitude with that of, specifically, the United States. While recognising that Cuba’s efforts have ‘brought tremendous diplomatic benefits for the island’, they stress that ‘Cuban medical internationalism is not used solely to score political points abroad’ (p181, authors’ emphasis) and dismiss accusations that Cuba’s approach is selfish or cynically motivated by a wish to promote its pharmaceutical products abroad. They cite instead, the Cuban Constitution’s commitment to ‘proletarian internationalism…cooperation and solidarity with the peoples of this world, especially those of Latin America and the Caribbean’ (p182). Their book, they say, illustrates the application of that ideological framework. By contrast, they mention a 2005 US medical diplomacy effort in Panama which had one simple objective: ‘Challenging the socialist campaigns of Cuba’s Fidel Castro and Venezuela’s Hugo Chavez and winning over people’. ‘“Too little, too late”’ would appear a fitting commentary on the US approach to gaining regional support through medical aid’, they conclude. They condemn, too, the US’s ‘Cuban Medical Professional Parole’ programme, which seeks to persuade health professionals on international missions to defect to the US. However, only some 500 have ever taken up the offer.

Cuba’s ethos of providing help is detailed: training people to do it for themselves, supported by a literacy campaign; involving the community; what they call the Cuban model of ‘doing more with less’. ‘The secret lies in the development of a totally new form of revolutionary physician, ably described by [former] Cuban vice president Carlos Lage (himself a paediatric cardiologist), “A revolutionary physician is a person for whom a sick person is not a client, but a patient…The objective of a revolutionary physician is not to earn money but to save lives”.’

The authors are of course writing as academics rather than Marxists, and fall down a little when trying to label Cuba’s approach to international health. They categorise it as an example of ‘soft power’, popularised by Joseph Nye – the idea that rather than using carrots and sticks to exert power, a country can use the ‘attraction’ of its culture, geography or ideas to influence others. But readers of FRFI can recognise socialism when we see it, and what Kirk and Erisman have produced, overall, is a excellent handbook on the nature of a socialist and revolutionary approach to medical internationalism – get your library to order it now.

Hannah Caller and Cat Wiener