This will be my last post in this blog. In the new year, I’ll be starting a new weekly blog called Days of Hope. The plan is to post every Saturday. It will be a more regular version of this, with a few changes: pages set aside for poems I’ve had published (and a few that are new), and a page of posts about my main research interest at the moment: the anti-democratic activities of intelligence agencies. (My forthcoming book ‘The Enemies of Freedom’ has torn me away from a lot of things, including blogging, for the last 12 months. It will be finished by June 2012; and I’ll definitely be having a party then!)
I have enjoyed blogging about the struggles of some of the brave souls who continue to battle against cuts, poverty, wars and injustice. To have stood amongst them; sometimes organising a few events myself, has been a great privilege. Hard struggles for all of us lie ahead, but together we can fight, push back the reactionaries, and put our visions forward: an end to inequality, poverty, and wars and the obscene waste of wealth by the billionaires who rule over us!
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The whole point of writing a blog, I think, is because you have something to say and you want to share it. For some people, what they have to say is not much more than a long string of words, arising from no particular purpose or meaning. Maybe, we’re all like that sometimes. However, at our best, as human beings, we talk or write, sing, dance or paint because we want to communicate something which matters: not just to one person but to many.
A couple of years ago, in book-form, I read some writings by a worker which began their public life as a blog. The blog was called Random Acts of Reality, and it was a fascinating account by London Ambulance Service technician Brian Kellett about his exploits across London on call-outs, doing his best to belp people despite the time-wasters, the downright aggressive, and traumatic scenes. Increasingly, a cost-cutting management became the biggest problem. The best of the blog entries were gathered in two books: Blood, Sweat & Tea; and – More Blood, Sweat & Tea, under the pseudonym Tom Reynolds.
It was months after I read the first of his books that I started writing my blog: Invictus. The idea of sharing my experiences of the struggle against huge cutbacks in public spending led to sentences forming in my head; then paragraphs on a page, well – an electronic page; then finally posts in this blog. As regular readers know, I began just over a year ago with a debate challenge to Iain Duncan Smith, which included popping up on TV a few times and campaign meetings, including one in the Parliament in London. The various demos against cuts I attended were often mentioned: sometimes there was only a few of us, at other times – hundreds of thousands. Personal events in my life appeared occasionally – like becoming a grandad; or remembering the struggles of being a single parent. I was feeling my way forward, as a blogger.
We can, of course, record our experiences or ideas in many ways. I’ve used a few methods over the years – factual articles, research reports, poems, talks. One common thread has been trying to communicate about the real world, which brings me back to my starting point. The world we all live in is a vast, and at times terrifying place. Our lives are full of immense challenges. To make sense of it all we talk to each other: sharing our hopes, dreams and plans. Maybe all types of communication involve this: it’s all ‘talking’ to each other. In the work of writers I admire and love, this ‘talking’ seems to me to take on a dimension where the writer is almost present. (No, I don’t actually hallucinate. Not yet, anyway.) But I can almost sense George Orwell at my side, guiding me through the battlefields of workers struggles; and sometimes I ‘see’ the vision of some described scene, say by Ernest Hemingway, and feel grateful it has been shown to me; and in the words of some poets I sometimes sense a comforting hand on my shoulder ‘saying’: “yes, it can be hard, sad, and sometimes unbearable; but look: there is also hope and wonder and love in this world.” When that happens, although I may be down to my last £2 to last me a week, at least I can listen to Thom Gunn or Mary Oliver and know how valuable being alive really is.
Writing about struggles was my starting point as a blogger. It was and is important to me. Some struggles we face seem to be more public or private than others, although this can be an illusion: all struggles are a bit of both. I remember vividly, from my time as advice worker, a courageous man who came to see me to get help with filling in a form, for Disability Living Allowance. A big man, with a craggy face, he came into the community centre with his wife, who answered some of the questions when her husband was too busy fighting off spasms of intense pain. You could see the struggle in his face, and after every temporary victory, he smiled and answered a few more questions, until the next spasm. The next battle. He had been a stonemason for decades, providing for his family, paying taxes; and now he had an illness where his bones were crumbling. Eventually, the form was done; and that time they were lucky: he was awarded the highest level of care and mobility. (Around the same time, I tried to help many other equally brave individuals who had terrible conditions but were awarded nothing.)
I received a letter of thanks from that couple, which was lovely but I was only doing my job. My point here is that their struggles today are still very personal, very difficult, but also part of a wider public battle. The government remains determined to slash benefits to that couple and to every other who are struggling to cope with illness, disability, or unemployment. Why should those who have worked all their lives paying taxes be persecuted in this way by politicians like David Cameron or Iain Duncan Smith who have never worked and who are the friends of rich tax-dodgers? It is this fundamental unfairness which powers the mass movements we have seen over the last year. It is the common thread running through varied struggles: the students fighting against fees; workers fighting against job cuts; and of course the magnificent struggle to protect pensions which led to a huge strike by public sector workers on November 30th. As I marched in Dundee that day with my partner Isobel, I saw in a crowd of thousands lots of people who I knew were also fighting their own battles to support family members who are ill or have disabilities and are under attack.
What can we do when faced with such challenges, so much injustice? We can fight! In all I have written so far in this blog, and all I aim to write in ‘Days of Hope’, that is the underlying theme: the need to fight for a better world and not allow those who would turn this world into a wasteland to win.Sometimes, we march forward in the full glare of media interest; at other times we may seem to struggle on in a very private dimension. I am no one special – certainly, I am not of the courageous stature of the stonemason I once met. And, at least for a while, I am not facing the full wrath of the ruling class – as Bradley Manning is in his small cell, waiting to hear if he will face a court martial and possible life-imprisonment. For what? For allegedly exposing war crimes! Yet, we live in extraordinary times, when the most oppressed can rise up in their millions in a hearbeat, and terrify their oppressors. Those who can fight and organise and tell the truth no matter what the personal cost have a tremendous responsibility to do so. This is an era of struggle. This is the era of the human being versus capitalism. I have no doubt who will win.