Drink, Politics and stuff

Statement by Alan McCombes on release from Saughton Jail, Edinburgh 20.45,
29/05/06

“Firstly I would like to thank SSP members and supporters for their
solidarity and support.
“As a party we were faced with a choice; to either lie, comply or defy.
“Our Executive took the honourable position of defying the interference of
the courts in the internal affairs of the Scottish Socialist Party.
“The last few days has seen the escalation of the situation with raids on
premises and homes with rank and file branch members facing the prospect of
being brought before the court because of resolutions passed.
“Faced with this onslaught, some members of the National Council who had
previously urged defiance lost their nerve and buckled under pressure.
“Some NC members had honestly advocated compliance from the outset and I
respect that.
“While personally relieved to be liberated (for the time being at least) I
salute those 60 plus delegates of the National Council who remained
steadfast and took the difficult option to continue defiance.
“If I had been in their shoes and someone else had been in mine I would have
voted to continue the defiance.
“I have responded to the democratic vote of the SSP’s National Council and
will carry on the battle for confidentiality through legal channels.
“Finally, I have to express my disappointment that some delegates, including
my old friend Tommy Sheridan, ignored my heartfelt plea for unity in the
face of this onslaught.
“Tommy Sheridan’s intemperate outburst has saddened me and I now appeal to
Tommy to come to his senses, withdraw his infantile letter and meet me face
to face to thrash out these issues.”

 Alan McCombes Jailed yesterday.

Saturday, May 27, 2006
Alan McCombes statement

Alan McCombes, press and policy coordinator of the Scottish Socialist
Party made the following statement :

“My decision, which I took with the full support of the SSP, not to
hand over the documents demanded by the court was not one taken
lightly but in the full understanding of the possible serious
consequences that could follow.”
“However I took my stand on the clear position that the Scottish
Socialist Party, like all democratic organisations, has the right to
hold private discussions on sensitive matters and for those
discussions to remain confidential.”
“That is not only my view but also the view taken by both the SSP’s
executive and our National Council composed of rank and file delegates
from across Scotland”
” Scottish Executive has argued precisely this view on such sensitive
matter as the Shirley McKie case, the handling of the scandals around
Hepatitis C and many PFI contracts which are paid for by public money”
“We now face the grotesque position that a small party is being
pressed by the state to hand over its internal records while the
Executive is allowed to keep policy decisions and other matters of
vital public interest under lock and key.”
“To comply with the demand to hand over the documents would endanger
the right of free debate inside political parties and mean that out
rights of free association would be threatened.”
” In such discussions the keeping of records and minutes is a vital
part of ensuring that elected officers are accountable to their
members and meeting the court’s demand to hand over internal records
threatens that right.”
“My legal team Paul Cullen and Fred Tyler presented a powerful case
for my position and I pay tribute their skills is so doing and thank
them for their work.”

Read Kevin Williamson’s CONTEXT IS EVERYTHING

http://rebelinkcolumns.blogspot.com/

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/scotland/5014452.stm

http://www.nalanda.nitc.ac.in/resources/english/etext-project/Biography/gandhi/part4.chapter47.html

HOW A CLIENT WAS SAVED - Gandhi

The reader, by now, will be quite familiar with Parsi Rustomji”s name. He was one who became at once my client and coworker, or perhaps it would be truer to say that he first became co-worker and then client. I won his confidence to such an extent that he sought and followed my advice also in private domestic matters. Even when he was ill, he would seek my aid, and though there was much difference between our ways of living, he did not hesitate to accept my quack treatment.

This friend once got into a very bad scrape. Though he kept me informed of most of his affairs, he had studiously kept back one thing. He was a large importer of goods from Bombay and Calcutta, and not infrequently he resorted to smuggling. But as he was on the best terms with customs officials, no one was inclined to suspect him.

In charging duty, they used to take his invoices on trust. Some might even have connived at the smuggling.

But to use the telling simile of the Gujarati poet Akho, theft like quicksilver won”t be suppressed, and Parsi Rustomji”s proved no exception. The good friend ran post-haste to me, the tears rolling down his cheeks as he said : “Bhai, I have deceived you. My guilt has been discovered today. I have smuggled and I am doomed. I must go to jail and be ruined. You alone may be able to save me from this predicament. I have kept back nothing else from you, but I thought I ought not to bother you with such tricks of the trade, and so I never told you about this smuggling. But now, how much I repent it !” I calmed him and said : “To save or not to save you is in His hands. As to me you know my way. I can but try to save you by means of confession.” The good Parsi felt deeply mortified.

“But is not my confession before you enough ?” he asked.

“You have wronged not me but Government. How will the confession made before me avail you ?” I replied gently.

“Of course I will do just as you advise, but will you not consult with my old counsel Mr.? He is a friend too,” said Parsi Rustomji.

Inquiry revealed that the smuggling had been going on for a long time, but the actual offence detected involved a trifling sum. We 1 Gandhiji mentions Rustomji”s name so that it “should be remembered as long as the autobiography is recognized as an important work”. Vide “Letter to Manilal and Sushila Gandhi”, July 15, 1928.

went to his counsel. He perused the papers, and said : “The case will be tried by a jury, and a Natal jury will be the last to acquit an Indian.

But I will not give up hope.” I did not know this counsel intimately. Parsi Rustomji intercepted : “I thank you, but I should like to be guided by Mr.

Gandhi”s advice in this case. He knows me intimately. Of course you will advise him whenever necessary.” Having thus shelved the counsel”s question, we went to Parsi Rustomji”s shop.

And now explaining my view I said to him : “I don”t think this case should be taken to court at all. It rests with the Customs Officer to prosecute you or to let you go, and he in turn will have to be guided by the Attorney General. I am prepared to meet both. I propose that you should offer to pay the penalty they fix, and the odds are that they will be agreeable. But if they are not, you must be prepared to go to jail. I am of opinion that the shame lies not so much in going to jail as in committing the offence. The deed of shame has already been done. Imprisionment you should regard as a penance. The real penance lies in resolving never to smuggle again.” I cannot say that Parsi Rustomji took all this quite well. He was a brave man, but his courage failed him for the moment. His name and fame were at stake, and where would he be if the edifice he had reared with such care and labour should go to pieces ? “Well, I have told you,” he said, “that I am entirely in your hands. You may do just as you like.” I brought to bear on this case all my powers of persuasion. I met the Customs Officer and fearlessly apprised him of the whole affair. I also promised to place all the books at his disposal and told him how penitent Parsi Rustomji was feeling.

The Customs Officer said : “I like the old Parsi. I am sorry he has made a fool of himself. You know where my duty lies. I must be guided by the Attorney General and so I would advise you to use all your persuasion with him.” “I shall be thankful,” said I, “if you do not insist on dragging him into court.” Having got him to promise this, I entered into correspondence with the Attorney General and also met him. I am glad to say that he appreciated my complete frankness and was convinced that I had kept back nothing.

I now forget whether it was in connection with this or with some other case that my persistence and frankness extorted from him the remark: “I see you will never take a no for an answer.” The case against Parsi Rustomji was compromised. He was to pay a penalty equal to twice the amount he had confessed to having smuggled. Rustomji reduced to writing the facts of the whole case, got the paper framed and hung it up in his office to serve as a perpetual reminder to his heirs and fellow-merchants.

These friends of Rustomji warned me not to be taken in by this transitory contrition. When I told Rustomji about this warning he said: “What would be my fate if I deceived you?”

This is the Political Party I belong to.  Thought I would show you so’s y’ know where I’m coming from…

 http://www.scottishsocialistparty.org/pages/whatwe.html

 I’m also a member of this campaigning group:

http://www.independence1st.com/

 …and this one…

 http://www.banthebomb.org/index.php

…and until nearly 10 months ago this was my favourite thirst-quencher (it goes against my principles to advertise, but I suppose I used to keep the company directors up in lunches with the amount they made from me…)

http://www.stellaartois.com/index.html

This is where I live:

http://www.visitscotland.com/

…and this is where I came from…

http://www.discovernorthernireland.com/

If you have just discovered this weblog, you will find everything from great and shite poetry, to prose about dead footballers and socialist fantasy novels of the 19th Century - and everything in between that isn’t Harry Potter.  I haven’t got to him yet.  And boy, when I do, he’ll know about it.  Oh, and I am a teacher. 

At the moment I am in a school near to this horrible place in which the children are very much affected by it’s Machiavellian work… (Brand Street Immigration centre- not the openborders people)

http://www.openborders.org.uk/

…and we are fixing up our flat at the moment.  So - if you are new - have a read at some of the stuff I have posted.  Watch the movies (some of which I made) and comment as much as you want! - oh - and you could take part in the poll -

http://thedrink.blog.com/715673/

Belfast Harbour Airport was renamed George Best Airport this week.

Ten months without booze.  And you know what?  I don’t really miss it.  I keep saying that - and now and again qualify it with “I miss sitting in a pub and having a bit of craic.”  But I think Jonathon Ross was right - I think you reach a certain age when you need to grow out of these things.  That is easy for me to say with the support of a fantastic family.  I know when you are on your own in Scotland or Ireland, the place you will definately have society you can join in is in the pub.  One great pub we used to go to was CJ’s (I can’t remember the name CJ - or Craig -used to give the place.  It became the “Wobbly Boot” after he sold it).  I remember fantastic sessions there.  It was the perfect bar - the barmaid was beautiful, the beer was reasonably priced - and everybody knew your name.  I have known a few bars like that, Jamies, the Imperial, Gowdys and the Downshire in it’s old form, being other memorable ones.  But CJ’s was something else.  There were the brothers who owned the recording studio.  I remember one afternoon I was supposed to meet my then girlfriend, instead I met an ex-girlfriend and we went to CJ’s.  We met the mad studio owners and a few others who could play different instruments.  We had a great laugh and they invited us back to the studio.  I went and bought a 24 pack of beer and met them again in the pub.  We sat in the pub and drank the 24 pack - Craig didn’t mind.  Craig used to give us bottles of champagne when it was someones birthday.  Needless to say it was someones birthday every week. Perhaps that is why he went bust.  Those were the days of Trish and Paul.  Another fine story of love gone wrong.  Anyway, after a while we went to the recording studio and Paula and I sat on the floor while the others jammed.  Fantastic craic!  When I finally met up with the girlfriend she was not a happy bunny.  Or kangaroo (she was Australian - boy was that a silly time of my life).

I hate aging.  And growing up.

Of course, I felt strongly about politics in Northern Ireland.  A place where real politics had been usurped by a false divide.  At the end of the BBC TV series, “Citizen Smith”, I was annoyed with Robert Lindsay’s red character.  For all of his flaws, he shouted, “Power to the People!”  At the age of eleven I thought that if power went to the people, Paisley wouldn’t be telling people to hate my mate, Mickey.  If power went to the people, the invisible, feared, terrorists wouldn’t be able to kill people on their doorsteps, in shops, at their work or just “being”.  Wolfie Smith disappointed, not because he chose the girl over people power – but because that was the choice.  Smithy was my first political disappointment.  I went through a few relationships with the same disappointment.

People think of politics as “an interest” or “fad”.  Politics have been separated from everyday lives.  Reality is sold in bite sized chunks.  We read, watch and listen to what profiteers want us to.  Politics should not be left to professional politicians.  In fact the last people politics should be left to is that opportunistic bunch.  Politics is about people.  It is about the mundane.  It is about people’s relationships with each other and their surroundings.  It is about the fact that property is expensive and exclusive.  It is about taxes being squandered on new methods to kill each other.  It is about taxes being diverted from health services and social services that help us.  It is about your legacy to your children and your grandchildren.  It is about why you can’t afford a new washing machine or a holiday to Largs, Blackpool, Torremolinos or Sydney.  It is about what people claim to own and not share.  It is about Scotland being part of the 4^th richest economy with the worst conditions for pensioners in Europe.  And so on.

I decided at an early age not to compromise what I understood to be truth.  I experimented with truth, of course, because the world has many truths and many ways of presenting them.  I didn’t compromise with bullies and I was punched, kicked and threw through windows and doors.

Northern  Ireland was at the beginning of a process.  This process might mean that young men and women would be able to marry without the crisis Sharon and I caused when we announced her pregnancy.  The fabric of the local – the personal – the political – the usurped humanity – was in crisis.  The pregnancy was not the crisis.  That was no longer something to hide.  But the marriage of the communities – the communities that acknowledged the existence of the other and politely allowed each other life perceived a problem and perceptions in Northern Ireland are everything.  The perceptions of nationhood and God were foisted upon two country lovers.  Three attempts brought on the same problems.  And all the time people saw difference.  Even her.  And I couldn’t.

I voted yes and helped persuade as many people as I could to do the same.  We were right.  People stopped dying – and it is no longer official and unofficial policy that a certain amount of people were destined to die for a perception.  An uneasy compromise worked.  There had only been one political party I thought I could vote for.  A compromise.  They were not socialist.  There was no-one to tell me about socialist organisations in Ireland who didn’t believe in war.  I thought I could agitate from within.  I guess a political journey has to start somewhere.  Political naivety had me believing I could bring socialism to a liberal party.  When people in the party told me they supported Section 28 and taxing those who could be taxed – except for the rich and the profits of the profiteers – then I knew I couldn’t compromise.  All very academic – though all related to Mickey and Sharon.