Arts, Christianity, Culture, Poetry

TS Eliot’s ‘Ash Wednesday’

ASH WEDNESDAY

Intro: The prayers of Lent are a key guide to Eliot’s obscure sequence of poetry

Sometimes, people read TS Eliot’s sequence of six poems, Ash Wednesday, in the hope of better understanding this first day of Lent in the Western Christian Church. The poem is meditative and pivotal which marks his conversion to Anglicanism, and chronicles a journey from spiritual despair to tentative faith. 

Structured around the Lenten season, the poem moves through themes of repentance, purgation, and the desire for divine, transcendent love amidst the emptiness of modern life.

Knowledge of Ash Wednesday – and the rest of Lent – which falls on February 18 this year, is a prerequisite to understand Eliot’s poetry.

Ash Wednesday is obscure. It begins: “Because I do not hope to turn again.” This is a quotation from Guido Cavalcanti, who died in 1300, a friend of Dante’s. How the reader is meant to know that, I’m not sure.

The words had been translated by Dante Gabriel Rossetti in 1861, as: “Because I think not ever to return”, a reference to Cavalcanti’s exile from Tuscany. But Eliot knew that “to turn again” is an aspect of repentance, as the Authorised Version of the Bible in 1611 translated the Greek word metanoia, “change of mind”, found in the New Testament. The Ash Wednesday Epistle, from the prophet Joel, begins: “Turn ye even to me, saith the Lord, with all your heart.”

In St Mark’s Gospel, the first words of Jesus are: “Repent and believe the gospel,” and those are now one of the forms of words to accompany the imposition of ashes on Ash Wednesday. But in Eliot’s day the Latin formula was: Memento, homo, quia pulvis es, et in pulverem reverteris, “Remember man, that thou art dust and unto dust thou shalt return.” In his poem, Eliot, with his Cavalcanti quotation, picks up both the return to dust and the turning again or repentance.

In Ash Wednesday, Eliot incorporates unsignalled quotations from church prayers. In a letter to Bishop George Bell of Chichester in 1930, Eliot addressed Ash Wednesday’s obscurity: “Most of the people who have written to say that they couldn’t understand it seemed to be uncertain at any point whether I was referring to the Old Testament or to the New; and the reviewers took refuge in the comprehensive word “liturgy”. It appears that almost none of the people who review books have ever read any of these things!”

In Part I of Ash Wednesday Eliot quotes the popular Catholic prayer, the Hail Mary.

In Part II he uses the question “Shall these bones live?” to make reference to the extraordinarily vivid passage in Ezekiel 37, where dry bones are reclothed in flesh and live.

In Part III, on the stairs, he ends with, “Lord, I am not worthy”, a prayer in the Mass before Communion: “Lord, I am not worthy that You should enter under my roof; but only say the word, and my soul shall be healed,” an echo of the Centurion’s words in Matthew 8:8.

In Part IV, “And after this our exile” is taken from a medieval prayer, the Salve Regina, where Mary is asked to “Show unto us the blessed fruit of thy womb, Jesus.”

In Part V, “O my people, what I have I done unto thee” is taken from the Improperia or Reproaches in the Good Friday liturgy, based on the prophet Micah (5:3).

In Part VI, the last line, “And let my cry come unto Thee” is also in the Good Friday liturgy, from Psalm 102 (101 in the Vulgate) – in Latin: Domine, exaudi orationem meam, et clamor meus ad te veniat.

Before that, Eliot puts a line, “Suffer me not to be separated”, which is from the 14th-century prayer Anima Christi (taken up by Ignatius Loyola, founder of the Jesuits). The context is: “Within Thy wounds hide me /Suffer me not to be separated from Thee.”

All these would have been very familiar to a practising Roman Catholic, less so to most Anglicans and utterly unfamiliar to the leading critics of the 1930s.

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Britain, Economic, Government, Politics

The Government must allow markets to do their job

ECONOMIC

Intro: Fallout from the Iran war and the energy crisis that has followed is the ultimate test of the UK Government’s economic acumen

A famous story which used to be known by every schoolchild in the land, King Canute famously sat on his throne at the edge of sea during the early 11th century, and ordered the tide to stop coming in.

Needless to say, the tide did not obey. Some modern interpretations suggest that he wasn’t crazy or mad but was rather trying to demonstrate to his courtiers the limits of regal power. Even the King could not stop the tide.

Governments today need to recognise what little power they have in relation to the current energy crisis.

Although there isn’t a lot they can do, unlike King Canute and the tide governments are not completely powerless. But first comes the need for understanding. The energy crisis is a supply shock which changes the terms of trade, acting as a sort of tax that transfers money from net energy-consuming countries to net energy-producing ones. We are a net energy consumer. This crisis, then, makes us worse off, whatever we do.

And there are two major knock-on effects. First, the economy can be sent into recession as people react to the loss of income by spending less. Second, this “tax” takes the form of a rise in the price of energy that delivers an initial upward spike to the general price level, thereby increasing inflation in the short term, and carrying the danger of embedding higher inflation.

Although there is nothing that governments can do to stop the loss of net national income, there are things they can do to try to mitigate these two knock-on effects.

There could be a case for loosening fiscal policy to reduce the hit to consumer incomes and consumer spending and hence aggregate demand. The parlous state of the public finances, however, means that the scope to do that now is restricted. One way they could seek to limit both the hit to real incomes and the upward pressure on the price level is through granting subsidies and imposing caps on prices.

But this isn’t a free lunch because, unless the Government can justifiably and safely borrow more, which it really can’t at the moment, such things have to be paid for by the taxpayer. It is a case of robbing Peter to pay Paul or, most of the time, robbing Peter to pay Peter.

This is actually still the case if the money for such subsidies is found by more borrowing rather than through new tax rises. This simply defers when Peter and Paul have to cough up.

Most importantly, the Government needs to let market forces do their job. The increase in energy prices acts as a signal to consumers to minimise their use of energy and simultaneously sends a signal to producers to boost the output of energy.

If the help to consumers takes the form of artificially keeping energy prices down, then the signal to economise on energy usage is smothered. More importantly, in our case the signal to producers is cancelled by the Government’s net zero policy, which is preventing the new extraction of North Sea oil and gas.

The best that governments can do in these circumstances is to manage the economy and their own finances most efficiently. Of course, they should have been doing this anyway, but in these difficult and turbulent times the importance of doing the right thing increases significantly. In the UK’s case, the fundamental error in the Government’s economic policy has been to preside over huge increases in government spending, while passing on a good deal of the burden to employers in the form of higher National Insurance payments.

One thing the Government could do to mitigate the consequences of the current energy crisis is to reverse this policy and bring in substantial cuts to government spending. This is not to tighten fiscal policy. Rather, the money saved should be redistributed to the economy.

The best use of it would be a reduction in employers’ NIC, which would reduce their costs and thereby lead to lower prices. It would also encourage firms to retain their workers.

This, too, would make a contribution to staving off the inflation danger. Over and above this, the principle responsibility lies with the Bank of England and its monetary policy.

History provides an illustration of how different responses to the same adverse shock can produce quite different results. In the 1973-74 oil crisis, all the oil-consuming countries of the West – including the UK – suffered an adverse terms of trade shock. They were all made worse off.

But different countries responded differently to the spike in the general price level. In the UK, inflation peaked t almost 25pc. In Germany, by contrast, inflation peaked at just under 8pc.

It has become clear that this UK Labour Government doesn’t really understand or believe in markets. You can see this everywhere, from the wish to control rents in the belief that this will somehow make tenants better off to the recent blaming of price rises on retailers.

This Government cannot avoid the adverse economic shock that higher energy prices imply but it can limit its consequences by letting markets perform their function.

It should abandon at once the headlong pursuit of net zero and allow new production from the North Sea, while cutting government spending and reducing business costs.

We should understand the political forces standing against such action; it is unlikely that the Government will do anything like this. But that doesn’t mean that there is not an alternative course of action available, if only the Government had the insight and the courage to pursue it.

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Iran, Israel, Middle East, United States

The folly of boots on the ground in Iran

US-IRAN WAR

Intro: After the pain of Iraq and Afghanistan, it’s almost inconceivable the US would again send troops to the Middle East – but its president is desperate and narcissistic

Concern and anguish are justifiably growing that a cornered Donald Trump will send US ground troops into combat on Iranian soil to avoid being personally and politically humiliated in a war of attrition he started, mismanaged, and cannot end. Such a self-serving escalation, however – even if limited in scope and duration – could itself prove catastrophic for him and the American people. Think what happened in previous US-led military interventions. In sum total, he’s caught in a modern-day catch-22. Pick your own metaphor for dumb. Trump’s stumped, hoist by his own petard, stuck between a rock and a hard place, and up the creek without a paddle. The creek in question is, of course, the Strait of Hormuz.

Firmly ensconced in his strange parallel universe, Trump insists the war is all but won, Iran is suing for peace, and talks are making good progress. In the real world, Iran is still fighting on all fronts, Israel is still relentlessly bombing, the strait remains largely closed, and the Iran-allied Houthi militia in Yemen has joined the war, attacking Israel and potentially blocking Red Sea trade routes. The US and Iran have each issued maximalist demands, but there is no sign of actual negotiations. They are poles apart, further even than they were before Trump, egged on by Benjamin Netanyahu, abandoned diplomacy four weeks ago. Sometime soon, Trump will be forced to confront the huge gap between what he wants and what’s on offer. At that point he could turn to the troop buildup amassing in the Gulf and order ground attacks.

How did it come to this? It’s incredible to think that after all the mortal agony and pain of Iraq and Afghanistan, a US president is once again seriously contemplating boots on the ground in the Middle East. It’s even more amazing the president concerned is Trump, a noisy and outspoken critic of costly foreign adventures. Yet this is no unlucky break, no accidental misfortune. It’s the result of deliberate policy. If the US is facing impossible choices, the responsibility is entirely Trump’s, though he will surely blame and scapegoat others. For one, Pete Hesgeth, the Pentagon’s troubled comic-book warlord, is in his gun-sights.

Ignoring facts on the ground, the White House continues to spout lies and bombast. Trump is plainly in denial, claiming “regime change” has already been achieved with the assassination of Ayatollah Khamanei. Trump has this strange habit of behaving like a spectator, detached from the chaotic events he himself sets in motion. He acts and behaves as if the global energy shock, the US’s abject failure to defend the Hormuz strait and its Gulf allies, Iran’s unyielding defiance under fire, and the absence of the much-predicted popular uprising in Tehran, have nothing to do with him. He doesn’t understand Iran is fighting an asymmetric war, that even the biggest bombs cannot obliterate pride and ideology, faith and history.

Trump is increasingly isolated and out on a limb. His wealthy Arab business cronies no longer trust him. US bases on their territory now resemble a liability, not a defence. When he demanded NATO’s help, Europe said: we’ll let you know. Likewise, Iran’s ethnic Kurds are less than eager to die for a muppet. Support for the war among the US public and the MAGA right, always weak, is a fast-vanishing mirage. Having egged him on, Netanyahu refuses to bail him out – or to stop bombing everyone in sight. Trump believed Israel’s assurance of quick victory. As for Iran, its surviving leadership, dominated by ultras, reckons it’s winning. Its hard line gets harder by the day.

Imagine being one of the thousands of US marines and paratroopers now deploying to the Gulf. With a commander-in-chief like Trump, who needs enemies? Except plenty more lie in wait. Iran’s armed forces number 610,000 active-duty personnel, with reserves of 350,000. The regime may no longer be able to fight in the air or at sea. But on land, treading familiar terrain and ultimately willing, perhaps, to sacrifice “human waves” of troops, as in the 1980’s Iran-Iraq war, it remains a formidable foe. The Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) says it’s ready to carpet-bomb its own territory if invaded.

If ground attacks were to materialise – both Trump and Netanyahu have publicly discussed the possibility – the targets would most likely be the coastal batteries, missile defences, and concealed armed speedboat bases dotting the northern flank of the Hormuz strait. An attack on the Kharg oil export terminal further up the Gulf is also predicted. Ominously, Kharg is known as the Forbidden Island; it may be easier to overrun than hold. Such incursions would be intended to force the reopening of the strait, thereby easing the energy crisis, and strengthening Trump’s negotiating hand.

The inherent, inescapable military risks are daunting. Causalities would be inevitable. Even if operations went well in the short term, questions would immediately arise about potential escalation when Iran counterattacked, expansion of the operational area, and duration of the occupation. If they went badly, the cry would go up for reinforcements – a scenario grimly familiar to anyone who recalls mission-creep in Iraq and Afghanistan. More risky still, to the point of suicidal, is another floated option: sending US and Israeli special forces deep into the interior to snatch Iran’s hidden, physically volatile stockpile of highly enriched uranium.

For all his childish threats of epic fury and maximum punishment, does Trump really want to unleash this nightmare? A rational person would strive to avoid it. At one level, his desperate-sounding, fiercely disputed claims that Iran is privately “begging” for peace reflect a realisation that a bloody, open-ended land war could destroy his presidency. His problem is that Iran’s regime knows this too. So, entirely logically, it will continue to rebuff his maximalist 15-point “peace plan” – which amounts to a call for complete surrender – while upping its own demands. They include a permanent end to US-Israeli aggression, undisputed sovereignty over the Hormuz strait, financial reparations, and lifting of sanctions.

Any deal that fails to satisfy bottom-line US and Israeli demands – namely, a definitive end to Iran’s nuclear weapons and ballistic missile development programmes, a halt to Tehran’s support for allied regional militias, and guaranteed freedom of navigation in the Gulf – will be seen as a defeat for Trump. He now plainly wants to end the war but on his terms, with a deal superior to that secured by Barack Obama in 2015 (and subsequently trashed by Trump). Iran – angry, wounded, yet resilient – will not give it to him. Trump’s choice: cave or escalate.

At this dreaded juncture, what is there to say or think? This illegal war should never have been launched. Trump acted foolishly and opportunistically. Netanyahu, too, is greatly to blame. The threat was not “imminent”. And the war’s most persuasive justification – a promise to free Iranians from tyranny – has been abandoned. Negotiations, unconditional on both sides, are the only sane way out. Trump must swallow his pride, admit his error, eat humble pie. Yet, as all the world knows, the very idea that this most ignorant, reckless, and narcissistic of US leaders might actually do so is utterly ridiculous.

Not only was the second Trump presidency going to end in disaster, but the US-Iran war will be the greatest of all disasters of its foreign interventions.

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