So, one other thing.

Today was Naga­saki day and as a result, the Hiroshima Day rally was held in the city. There were many, many young people wear­ing sweat­shirts with “Lebanon” writ­ten on the back and waving Lebanese flags. I was very uncom­fort­able with a peace rally being turned into a pat­ri­otic exer­cise for a coun­try that isn’t ours. This isn’t, to me, mul­ti­cul­tural pride in her­it­age, it’s some­thing else, some­thing I can’t quite put my finger on.

Then I saw Global Hay­wire and it made all the con­nec­tions again about how colo­ni­al­ism and the League of Nations divid­ing the world up after World War I led to Yugoslavia and North­ern Ire­land and how the Balfour Declar­a­tion after World War II led to Israel and how these are all the trou­bles­pots, how we are still deal­ing with the con­sequences and the fall-out of those decisions and yet we con­tinue to impose dic­tat­orial will in these regions – and we wonder why we end up with terror and chil­dren so des­pair­ing that being a sui­cide bomber just makes sense because the “next world” sounds so much better than this one.

I still want a global world, based on a car­ni­val of dif­fer­ence, a cel­eb­ra­tion of the joy of the lovely lan­guages I hear in Mel­bourne every day. I don’t want the melt­ing pot – that’s a bad meta­phor, because it renders everything liquid and undif­fer­en­ti­ated. But nor do I want our cities filled with ghet­toes and micro-com­munit­ies of ethnic pride, acting out war­fare based on alle­gi­ances to nation-states and cul­tures I don’t believe in. 

We’re straight back to my Mas­ter’s thesis here. If I wer­en’t so insanely busy, I’d be doing a paper on it. As it is, there’s a poem fomenting.