A fotografia da Holland House em Londres não sendo uma fotografia de militares em combate é uma fotografia de combatentes. Foi tirada em 1940. Não tenho razões para pensar que a mesma não pudesse ser hoje tirada. As imagens de pilhagem do museu de Bagdad e as imagens de pilhagem no Congo, no Sudeste asiático ou em Nova Orleães não obscurecem outros tantos momentos de salvaguarda de pessoas, animais ou bens, desta república filosófica que eu julgo poder ser universal.
Essas imagens de pilhagem não obscurecem, mas carecem ser muito bem explicadas por parte das autoridades pagas pelo erário público para assegurar a defesa de pessoas e bens.
O Jornalista Robert Fisk, num artigo escrito em Abril de 2003, relembra, muito bem, a obrigatoriedade das forças militares assegurarem, e mais especificamente num quadro de guerra, o respeito pelas regras da 4ª Convenção de Genebra (que pode ser lida na integra em: http://www.gddc.pt/direitos-humanos/textos-internacionais-dh/tidhuniversais/dih-conv-IV-12-08-1949.html).
Nesse artigo ele fala exclusivamente no acto de pilhagens que à luz da Convenção configura um crime de Guerra. Fiquemos por agora com um extracto do artigo de R. Fisk: “Let's talk war crimes. Yes, I know about the war crimes of Saddam. He slaughtered the innocent, gassed the Kurds, tortured his people and – though it is true we remained good friends with this butcher for more than half of his horrible career – could be held responsible for killing up to a million people, the death toll of the 1980-88 Iran-Iraq war. But while we are congratulating ourselves on the "liberation" of Baghdad, an event that is fast turning into a nightmare for many of its residents, it is as good a time as any to recall how we've been conducting this ideological war.
So let's start with the end – with the Gone With The Wind epic of looting and anarchy with which the Iraqi population have chosen to celebrate our gift to them of "liberation" and "democracy". It started in Basra, of course, with our own shameful British response to the orgy of theft that took hold of the city. Our defence minister, Geoff Hoon, made some especially childish remarks about this disgraceful state of affairs, suggesting in the House of Commons that the people of Basra were merely "liberating" – that word again – their property from the Baath party. And the British Army enthusiastically endorsed this nonsense.
Even as tape of the pillage in Basra was being beamed around the world, there was Lieutenant Colonel Hugh Blackman of the Royal Scots Dragoon Guards cheerfully telling the BBC that "it' s absolutely not my business to get in the way." But of course it is Colonel Blackman's business to "get in the way". Pillage merits a specific prevention clause in the Geneva Conventions, just as it did in the 1907 Hague Convention upon which the Geneva delegates based their "rules of war". "Pillage is prohibited," the 1949 Geneva Conventions say, and Colonel Blackman and Mr Hoon should glance at Crimes of War, published in conjunction with the City University Journalism Department – page 276 is the most dramatic – to understand what this means.
When an occupying power takes over another country' s territory, it automatically becomes responsible for the protection of its civilians, their property and institutions. Thus the American troops in Nasiriyah became automatically responsible for the driver who was murdered for his car in the first day of that city's "liberation". The Americans in Baghdad were responsible for the German and Slovak embassies that were looted by hundreds of Iraqis on Thursday, and for the French Cultural Centre, which was attacked, and for the Central Bank of Iraq, which was torched yesterday afternoon (…)”. O texto pode ser lido na íntegra em http://zmag.org/content/showarticle.cfm?SectionID=15&ItemID=3449
Nem sempre um leitor encarnará o espírito que a fotografia aqui nos manifesta, o de agir contra a violência ao ter um livro nas suas mãos, mas será sempre o sinal de que o recurso à leitura, onde quer que seja e em que condições for, é o sinal do intelecto a procurar inteligibilidade numa comunidade de seres pensantes, mesmo se na prática tudo à sua volta tiver desmoronado.
Em Portugal encontrei pela primeira vez esta fotografia num livro de 1996 de Alberto Manguel, Uma História da Leitura, com tradução de Ana Saldanha e publicado em 1198 pela editorial Presença. Na Internet poder-se-á aprecia-la, por exemplo, no site de Eillen Joy:
http://www.siue.edu/~ejoy/HollandHouseLibraryText.htm
Essas imagens de pilhagem não obscurecem, mas carecem ser muito bem explicadas por parte das autoridades pagas pelo erário público para assegurar a defesa de pessoas e bens.
O Jornalista Robert Fisk, num artigo escrito em Abril de 2003, relembra, muito bem, a obrigatoriedade das forças militares assegurarem, e mais especificamente num quadro de guerra, o respeito pelas regras da 4ª Convenção de Genebra (que pode ser lida na integra em: http://www.gddc.pt/direitos-humanos/textos-internacionais-dh/tidhuniversais/dih-conv-IV-12-08-1949.html).
Nesse artigo ele fala exclusivamente no acto de pilhagens que à luz da Convenção configura um crime de Guerra. Fiquemos por agora com um extracto do artigo de R. Fisk: “Let's talk war crimes. Yes, I know about the war crimes of Saddam. He slaughtered the innocent, gassed the Kurds, tortured his people and – though it is true we remained good friends with this butcher for more than half of his horrible career – could be held responsible for killing up to a million people, the death toll of the 1980-88 Iran-Iraq war. But while we are congratulating ourselves on the "liberation" of Baghdad, an event that is fast turning into a nightmare for many of its residents, it is as good a time as any to recall how we've been conducting this ideological war.
So let's start with the end – with the Gone With The Wind epic of looting and anarchy with which the Iraqi population have chosen to celebrate our gift to them of "liberation" and "democracy". It started in Basra, of course, with our own shameful British response to the orgy of theft that took hold of the city. Our defence minister, Geoff Hoon, made some especially childish remarks about this disgraceful state of affairs, suggesting in the House of Commons that the people of Basra were merely "liberating" – that word again – their property from the Baath party. And the British Army enthusiastically endorsed this nonsense.
Even as tape of the pillage in Basra was being beamed around the world, there was Lieutenant Colonel Hugh Blackman of the Royal Scots Dragoon Guards cheerfully telling the BBC that "it' s absolutely not my business to get in the way." But of course it is Colonel Blackman's business to "get in the way". Pillage merits a specific prevention clause in the Geneva Conventions, just as it did in the 1907 Hague Convention upon which the Geneva delegates based their "rules of war". "Pillage is prohibited," the 1949 Geneva Conventions say, and Colonel Blackman and Mr Hoon should glance at Crimes of War, published in conjunction with the City University Journalism Department – page 276 is the most dramatic – to understand what this means.
When an occupying power takes over another country' s territory, it automatically becomes responsible for the protection of its civilians, their property and institutions. Thus the American troops in Nasiriyah became automatically responsible for the driver who was murdered for his car in the first day of that city's "liberation". The Americans in Baghdad were responsible for the German and Slovak embassies that were looted by hundreds of Iraqis on Thursday, and for the French Cultural Centre, which was attacked, and for the Central Bank of Iraq, which was torched yesterday afternoon (…)”. O texto pode ser lido na íntegra em http://zmag.org/content/showarticle.cfm?SectionID=15&ItemID=3449
Nem sempre um leitor encarnará o espírito que a fotografia aqui nos manifesta, o de agir contra a violência ao ter um livro nas suas mãos, mas será sempre o sinal de que o recurso à leitura, onde quer que seja e em que condições for, é o sinal do intelecto a procurar inteligibilidade numa comunidade de seres pensantes, mesmo se na prática tudo à sua volta tiver desmoronado.
Em Portugal encontrei pela primeira vez esta fotografia num livro de 1996 de Alberto Manguel, Uma História da Leitura, com tradução de Ana Saldanha e publicado em 1198 pela editorial Presença. Na Internet poder-se-á aprecia-la, por exemplo, no site de Eillen Joy:
http://www.siue.edu/~ejoy/HollandHouseLibraryText.htm
4 comentários:
olá. acho que vou andar por aqui
forç F
Minha amiga Isabel,
A palavra escrita assuma ela a forma de livro ou outra forma qualquer é sempre uma arma válida senão mesmo eficaz num combate seja ele qual for. Contudo no combate à solidão, à ignorãncia e à apatia do quotidiano ela assume uma importância vital.
Muitos parabéns pelo teu blog. É um combate a perpétuar
Alexandra Calado
Querida Isabel, que sejas bem regressada aos blogues! =)
Beijos e felicidades!
Muito obrigada pelas vossas palavras!
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