President Zelenski during his inaugural address in 2019 told lawmakers: “I do not want my picture in your offices: the president is not an icon, an idol or a portrait. Hang your kids’ photos instead and look at them each time you are making a decision.”
Ukraine
Russia launched a large-scale invasion of Ukraine early last Thursday, initiating a full-fledged ground assault to sure-up Russia’s waning influence on the post–Cold War international order. This unlawful invasion will have sweeping consequences for Ukraine, Europe, and for us. There are signs that the West is coming together with a single voice presenting a united stance in the face of the Kremlin’s new conflict — and that is a silver lining to an otherwise very dark cloud. There may be little that we can do to prevent this Russian military conquest, except rattle the usual sabres, but we will be able to influence what happens afterward.
Appeals to the past are among the most common of strategies in interpretations of the present. What animates all sorts of discussions — about war, about protest, about blame and judgement, about disease, or present actualities and future priorities — are about what happened in the past and what the past was, but also uncertainty about whether the past really is past, over, and concluded, or whether it continues, albeit in different forms.
Putin might do well to remember Russia has lost more territory and mana from waging war and violations of international norms than pursuing diplomacy and good governance. Russia lost the Crimean War of 1853–56, the Russo-Japanese War of 1904–05, the first defeat of a European country by an Asian one in the modern era. It lost World War I, a defeat that caused the collapse of the imperial regime. And it lost the Cold War, a defeat that helped cause the collapse of the imperial regime’s Soviet successor. With the breakup of the Soviet Union in 1991, Moscow lost some two million square miles of sovereign territory — more than the equivalent size of India (1.3 million). Russia also forfeited the share of Germany it had conquered in World War II and its other satellites in Eastern Europe, all of which along with the Baltic states are now inside the Western Military alliance.
The IAJ in a statement on the war called for Russia to immediately withdraw its troops from Ukraine and to resolve any dispute according to accepted principles of international law. “The rule of international law protects all from harm and allows all countries and all of their people to live safely, securely, in prosperity, and with dignity. The recent actions by Russia in Ukraine undermine the rule of law and threaten the safety, security, prosperity, and dignity of us all.”
President Zelenski during his inaugural address in 2019 told lawmakers: “I do not want my picture in your offices: the president is not an icon, an idol or a portrait. Hang your kids’ photos instead and look at them each time you are making a decision.” Wise advice to us all, I expect.
Our hopes and prayers are especially with Ukrainian judges and their families.
When the dust settles
History is also familiar territory for judges as a predictor of future behaviours — not so familiar, I expect, for the protestors’ quirky rage at anything and anyone that takes their fancy. Back in November I wrote:
Rebellion against the establishment has been a vital part of our history in Aotearoa. There is a whakatauki that describes this well: Tutu ana te puehu, which literally means, to stir up the dust.
As much as the occupiers of parliament grounds had a right to protest, their respect for tikanga and our history seems forgotten. Most wanted what we all desperately want in these crazy times; the disease to disappear and restrictions to come to a natural end.
Some protesters did more than stir up the dust on mandates. They allegedly smashed the windows of Taranaki Whānui offices, dumped sewage into its moana, and shouted at tamariki and kaumātua on the streets. And a group of protesters invaded Pipitea Marae attempting to ‘trespass’ tangata whenua, who were working with police and Māori wardens, from their own tūrangawaewe.
Jehan Casinader argued in an opinion piece for Stuff that most of the protesters are probably good people, but many are also “desperate and scared”, which leads them to identify with others who also “feel betrayed by authority and rejected by society”. He is correct when he says indoctrination to extremist ideologies “doesn’t just happen to angry young men who spend too much time on the dark web. Here, radicalisation is taking place in broad daylight—on the front lawn of Parliament. No amount of guitar-strumming or bubble-blowing can mask that”.
As they hurled bricks and whatever else came to hand during Wednesday’s clearances they might better have studied how in 1865 Taranaki iwi responded to the plight of war and Crown acts of violence with an alternative non-violent action. As these radicals shouted for freedom Kyiv residents died or hid in subway bomb shelters suffering the hell of war and real tyranny.
I see the dust you stirred. Mandates will end. Enough already — go home and learn our history!
The Craic
And while on matters historic: 17 March has always been a most significant date in our family. After midday mass at St Mary of the Angels, the Treacy clan would gather in Thorndon, Wellington, at the old Shamrock Inn where lashings of mutton stew, soda bread, and pints of Guinness would be devoured. The drinking and eating would be accompanied in equal measure by endless talk and song. The Craic was always grand!
It’s no secret that the Irish have a deep and enduring love of language. Our “gift of the gab”, or particular talent for talking, is world-renowned, and the ability to express oneself in a lyrical and precise way is something that Irish people prize even today. The 7th Century monks writing in their remote island monasteries, the medieval bards, the 17th Century seanchaí (storytellers) who wandered from village to village, and Ireland’s many writers and poets all have taken pride in breathing life into language so as to better communicate ideas, stories, and sentiments.
Nowhere is this more evident than in the traditional blessings that one finds in Ireland and wherever the Irish diaspora has spread. In the Irish language, every greeting is a blessing in itself. For example, instead of simply saying “goodbye”, we say, “go dté tú slán” – “safety be with you” or “may you go safely.” When you recite a general blessing you’re essentially asking for abundance and hope. Moreover, you’re requesting protection. Protection from life’s daily obstacles, protection from the negativity that diminishes hope, and protection for your heart to still find hope.
The Black Death was the deadliest pandemic recorded in human history. One of the symptoms of the plague was coughing and sneezing, and it is believed that Pope Gregory I (Gregory the Great) suggested saying “God bless you” as a general blessing after a person sneezed in hopes that this prayer would protect them from an otherwise certain death.
Now, what a grand idea that is for the suffering citizens of the Ukraine, the Zelenski family, our 160,000 Covid patients, the heroes in our hospitals and labs, your brothers and sisters in Wellington, especially, and throughout the country, judges and court staff, who keep the rule of law rolling along and courtrooms open for business in these very trying times and even a good idea for protestors. Bless!
“May your glass be ever full.
May the roof over your head be always strong.
And may you be in heaven
half an hour before the devil knows you're dead”
Sláinte.
(pronounced "slawwn-chee")
Gerard Thomas Patrick Winter