Antropologiske betraktninger om pelshvaldrift

Month: February 2016

Crime

A source of income for some, a means of revenge for others – for me and countless TV watchers, crime is just entertainment.

Actually, I don’t watch all that much TV, not even crime, for various reasons, one of them being that what happens on the screen all seems a bit irrelevant. Not that I’m not in favour of a little bit of escapism! I guess my escapism just takes other forms than, for instance, gory on-screen murders.

Sometimes, however, I do actually enjoy even a gory on-screen murder, and over the past week I have been watching the first five episodes (of 10) of an Icelandic film for TV titled Trapped / Innesperret (signed Baltasar Kormákur).

Anybody who has ever been to any of the tiny, remote towns that still dot isolated areas of the western world must have wondered: How do they manage? What makes them tick? Why do people stay? Are they in any way like us? And what if a murder were to happen here just when a blizzard was blocking all communication with the rest of the world?

On the coast of Iceland, blizzards happen all the time, and yes, they do from time to time block all communication with the rest of the world. That’s what the film is about. It tells a realistic story not only of a gory murder, but of a town you can actually see on the map, a town that has survived, survives and will continue to survive against all odds, despite isolation from glitzy honey pots. Although the location Seydisfjördur is real, the characters portrayed are fictional, but they are sure to exist somewhere, because they are the kind of people that are likely to live in any town.

Like any small place, it looses some people, who move to the big world. But all in all, the grandeur and courage of the film’s Seydisfjördur and its people is magnificent. Somehow, the film helps me understand why people I admire actually choose to live in such places, even to move there.

Speaking of crime

Why murder? Why the inevitable corpse in all crime films? After all, the basic plot is almost always that Protagonist A is missing or found killed and that Protagonist B (police officer, accused innocent by-stander, or close relative/friend) sets out to discover what happened, in a life or death race with Protagonist C (perpetrator).

Why do we keep watching these things? What is there to be learnt from glimpsing, for the umpteenth time, a killer’s warped mind? Occasionally, the victim’s mind is as warped as that of the killer. So?

Each murder is a personal tragedy for the victim, of course, and for the murderer, and for anybody who deeply cared for either of them. Say a dozen people, maybe two.

On the other hand, financial crimes, whether or not they have been deemed such in court, can harm, more or less dramatically, all the tax payers in an affected country. In an article 24 January 2016 “We all want Apple to pay more tax”, the Telegraph writes:

About a month ago the bankers Goldman Sachs published a list of the biggest and richest firms in the world. The top three, in order, were Apple, Google and Microsoft – and Facebook and Amazon were also in the top 10. All these tech companies make staggering sums from an avid British population. We love this stuff. We can’t get enough of it. We buy tens of billions of pounds’ worth of American hardware, software and services – and yet these companies pay quite derisory sums in tax to the UK Exchequer: derisory, that is, when you consider how much dosh they are earning from us all.”

The article goes on to defend the practice of tax avoidance schemes. It is true that technically, the Gargantuan tax avoidance schemes hatched out by influential transnational corporations are not necessarily violations of law, but they certainly would be if the average voter/tax payer had a say in the matter. But we voters don’t see and cannot understand the intricate technicalities involved.

Worse, we lack the technical insight to see our own countries’ dirty financial linen. Speaking of Iceland again: The entire country went bust, mostly as a result of the book cooking and irresponsible investments of a few financial crooks who would probably never have been exposed had it not been for the domino effect in the wake of the Lehman Brothers.

In my country, most of us hardly even noticed when the great big multinational Transocean was let off the hook a couple of weeks ago: The public prosecutor who had been pursuing Transocean for years on charges of criminal tax evasion was forced to apologise (!) to Transocean. A rather touching local article describes Norwegian legislators’ reaction as shocked and dismayed after a lecture about multinationals’ tax avoidance machinations. There’s a bad world out there, so bad that most of us think it’s just fiction.

Afterall, how can you fathom, if you run a little shop and pay your weight in gold to the taxman, that Transocean or Google or Apple can cheat and lie as much as they like as long as they have a battery of top ranking tax lawyers on their payrolls. Who can grasp there is so much iniquity in a civilised country?

Whose informed opinion weighs the most, Google’s or the voter’s? By whom is the voter’s opinion informed? Why do we prefer a film about a murder to a film about the effects of multinationals’ crooked machinations? Why don’t we even know about multinationals’ crooked machinations in spite of people’s loosing their jobs and/or homes because of them?

Whose acts, then, are the more sinister, the murderer’s or the multinationals’ crooked machinations? So lets have lots of  crime films about multinationals’ crooked machinations. We might learn something we really  need to know.

The Mujica effect

The former Uruguayan President Mujica has long since left office, but his legacy will live forever, I hope.

In Tanzania a new president has gained so much popularity after his first 100 days in office, that he now enjoys more than 90% support.

What do the two have in common? They slash expenses on pomp and ostentation. For all I know, President Magufuli may never even have heard of Pepe Mujica. Maybe we are approaching a watershed. Maybe the world has grown tired of junk food and tinsel.

Alas, I doubt it. I fear only the Tanzanians have understood, for some inexplicable reason, that national resources are better spent on health and education than on public or private exorbitance.

Among President Magufuli’s first decisions after taking office was to ban the purchase of first and business class tickets for foreign travel by ministers and officials… he slashed the budget allocated for an inauguration dinner by 90 per cent, diverting the money thus saved to healthcare… banned holding official meetings and workshops in hotels (they must now be held in government buildings) …. ordered a review of all privatisation contracts … starting by repossessing five estates… increased the number of businesses that pay taxes …

If things get much worse here in Europe, I might consider applying for Tanzanian citizenship.

Mind you, I would love to own a chateau on the Loire, a trim Colin Archer boat and a private beach cum comfortable cottage in Sardinia. If I had them, I would live simply and modestly, sorting recyclable rubbish according to source material, bicycling to town rather than driving, etc. I would travel by train, if at all possible, rather than by plane. I might even forego having a car.

But I belong to the long-suffering middle class. No chateau, no Colin Archer, no private beach. I, we, have every reason to compensate as best we can, poor things.

Vi og de

I nabolaget mitt har det ikke vært nevneverdige endringer det siste året, bortsett fra at det tar litt lengre tid å komme seg til jobb enn i fjor – og det kan ikke anses som endring da det i fjor også tok litt lengre tid enn året før, og også året før der igjen, osv.

Så av de globale problemene er det fint lite jeg kjenner på kroppen. Globale klimautfall gjør seg riktignok så vidt gjeldende også i Norge, men jeg og mitt ble skånt for orkanen Tor.

Må jeg da nøye meg med å debattere for eller i mot karikaturtegninger så lenge? Det vil si: Er det, eller er det ikke «greit» å lage karikaturtegninger av profeten? Kan det eller kan det ikke likestilles med karikatur av Hillary eller Erna? Osv.

Tro meg, jeg har meninger om saken, men anser den som relativt uvesentlig sammenlignet med at gudane må vite hvor mange titalls tusen mennesker, blant dem også kvinner og små barn, har mistet livet i den dramatiske flukten til Europa fra desperat nød eller krig. Det angår oss i alle fall i den grad Europa en kort stund åpnet sine grenser.

Men akk. Det var så overveldende mange mennesker som kom! Vi stengte grensene igjen og har tatt i bruk det snedige uttrykket «grunnløse migranter» for å forklare at vi i Storskog slenger døren i fjeset på syklende afghanere og selv syrere.

Så det som virkelig bør angå oss er at man i Finnmark nå får kjenne litt av hvert på kroppen. Det skulle bli Finnmark som først fikk merke at den globale virkeligheten er i ferd med å innta Norge. Det er nesten som et aldri så lite gufs fra andre verdenskrig. Enkelte personer, her og der, tar inn og beskytter flyktninger. Loven forbyr deg og meg å gi husly til folk som risikerer livet for å komme til et land der de håpet å finne trygghet, dersom de er “grunnløse flyktninger”. Vet du det? Det ble straffbart i 2008.

Her og der i Finnmark vil hjertevarme mennesker bli tiltalt og kanskje dømt fordi de ikke kunne holde ut tanken på at frosne og traumatiserte fremmede risikerte å bli drevet fra landet, slik jøden blir fordrevet i Wergelands dikt “Juleaftenen”.

Det er ikke bare loven som er ute etter flyktningene og de hjertevarme Finnmarkingene. Mange nordmenn anser det som landsforræderi å slippe inn tusenvis av utlendinger. De fleste av dem tier om det de mener, men en liten minoritet sender trusselbrev. Av disse, igjen, er en ørliten minoritet villig til gjøre alvor av truslene.

Det er for tiden ikke greit å være hjertevarm finnmarking. Jeg regner med at mange av dem lever i kontinuerlig og velbegrunnet frykt. Kanskje må også de søke asyl i et annet land.

Så i Finnmark er det alvor. Hvordan har politiet det der? Det kan ikke være lett for dem heller. De må gjøre det de er pålagt å gjøre, men også politifolk har hjertevarme.

Dette er noe helt annet enn karikaturtegninger!

***

Når Europas grenser forseres av hundretusener av fremmede på flukt fra sine hjemland er det helt naturlig at folk er redde og vil bolte porten og låse alle dører. Jeg mener det! Til alle tider har det vært slik at når trellene gjorde opprør, nøyde de seg ikke med å ta sin rettferdige del: De voldtok og for den del drepte herrefolkets kvinner og døtre og brant deres slott (og kunstskatter). Dette har man også gjort i protestantismens navn, for eks. i det veldige og blodige bondeopprøret i 1625 i Tyskland. Det er altså helt naturlig at folk er redde.

Det som ikke kan forsvares, etter mitt syn, er at mens Finnmark gjennomlever et brått møte med verden, så maser media-Norge om hvorvidt det er «greit» med karikaturtegninger.

Media er også bekymret for at Norges priviligerte økonomiske status kanskje står for fall. Det er igjen et helt legitimt tema, men….

Det ville være enda mer legitimt, etter mitt skjønn, å utforske mulighetene for at også andre land ble levedyktige. Det at landene sør for Europa er så mye fattigere enn Europa at folk i setter livet til for å krysse Middelhavet, representerer en sikkerhetstrussel for Europa, heter det. Hvorfor tas da ikke konsekvensene av den sikkerhetstrusselen? Hvorfor drøftes ikke årsakene til at levekårene i landene «migrantene» flykter fra er så håpløse? Det er sant at det er mye korrupsjon i afrikanske land, men er det hele årsaken til landenes elendighet? Kan det være at for eksempel de nordiske landene bidrar til korrupsjonen? Hvordan er handelsbetingelser for afrikanske land i forhold til Schengenområdet?

***

Jeg ønsker for ordens skyld å understreke at min taushet om Syria ikke skyldes manglende respekt for Syrias ufattelige lidelser.

© 2025 Pelshval

Theme by Anders NorénUp ↑