The Cocteau Twins had been apart for seven years, the mystique they had attained during their lifetime gradually growing and their influence spreading, when the announcement came that they were to reform. The world was told they would be headlining the 2005 Coachella festival in California, and would follow that with a major tour. According to bassist Simon Raymonde, the band stood to benefit to the tune of £1.5m each for getting back together – enough to guarantee them financial security, enough to secure the future of Raymonde's Bella Union label.

There was just one problem. Within weeks of the announcement, the group's singer, Elizabeth Fraser, announced she wouldn't take part.

"I don't remember it being that much money and in any case that's not the reason [for reforming]," she says today, in her first interview since the band split in 1998. "But people get so fucking carried away. Even though something's staring you in the face, people just cannot see it. I knew it wouldn't happen and it didn't take long to want out."

Fraser's decision to pull out of the reformation was made for the same reasons that contribute to the band's split in the first place: she could no longer face working with the group's guitarist, Robin Guthrie – her lover until 1993, and the father of her first child. But while they were together, the Cocteau Twins established themselves as one of the three main pillars of British alternative music, alongside New Order and the Smiths. Guthrie provided shimmering swathes of effects-laden guitar – surely the inspirtation for what then Radio 1 DJ Steve Wright's spoof rock critic character called "sonic cathedrals of sound" – while real critics swooned over Fraser's otherworldly and often incomprehensible vocals, one describing her singing – to her embarrassment – as "the voice of God." Madonna loved them, Prince wanted to sign them and Scritti Politti's Green Gartside said the vocally gymnastic Fraser was his third favourite melodicist of all time (behind Paul McCartney and Brian Wilson). You still hear their influence in any band striving to sound ethereal and otherworldly. Now her voice is to be heard again, as she releases her first solo single, Moses.

As Fraser tells it, that abortive reunion was not a career move, not a chance to gain the financial reward the Cocteau Twins' reputation merited: it was an attempt at healing. Their childhood friend-turned roadie-turned-manager wanted them back together "so that everyone could be friends".

However, Fraser almost immediately had reservations. "There's still a sense of being committed," she explains of her relationship with Guthrie. "But we're not committed. We're that different from each other now." She describes those differences in a sentence: "You take each other's breath away by doing something or saying something they never saw coming." She now can't even think about her bandmates, never mind see them. "They were my life. And when you're in something that deeply, you have to remove yourself completely."

It's not just her former bandmates she has left behind. For the last 12 years, she has barely engaged with music. She sang on Massive Attack's 1998 album Mezzanine and exquisite hit Teardrop (and toured with them in 2006), but that's it. She's been offered sums "beyond your wildest dreams" to collaborate with other artists – "the weirdest one was Linkin Park" – but all have been turned down.

Fraser sees making music as inseparable from her emotions. She has always struggled to write lyrics, she says, but suddenly something will click and she "goes with the sound and the joy" – that's why she sings sounds and words that have no meaning, of which she can only make sense later. As she puts it, "I can't act. I can't lie."

The inability to pretend is evident even now. She is so nervous before the interview begins, she's actually shaking,

"I live in here," she explains, exasperatedly, pointing at her head. "And it's difficult. I drift with every sensation. At times I'm OK, and at other times I'm such a rubout. My mind just whirrs or stops. There's no middle ground." When she was still performing, she would suffer stagefright. Now she talks of her anxiety spreading to the studio. Her single was recorded some time ago with Damon Reece – Massive Attack's drummer, and her partner of more than a decade – and a close friend, Jake Drake-Brockman. It wouldn't be coming out at all were it not for a tragedy: Drake-Brockman died in September, and Moses is being released as a tribute.

Pop was always Fraser's escape. Back in Grangemouth, a "horrendous" petrochemical town in Stirlingshire, she had seemed destined to follow her mother into the local rag trade until she realised that having "boxing gloves for hands" meant she could barely operate the machines. She would go dancing at a local club, the Nash, which is where she met Guthrie: he spotted the 17-year-old Fraser on the dancefloor one night in 1980 and asked her to join the band he'd started with his friend Will Heggie. By saying yes, Fraser acquired a soulmate and an enabler. "I looked up to him. I could never have done it without him." The distinctive sound they developed "flowed from the chemistry between us", particularly once Raymonde, a Londoner, replaced Heggie.

Fraser didn't feel what they were doing was particularly experimental or original – "It felt like we got away with it," she says – but the early 80s was "a lucky time. Bands could do what they wanted and have a career. It felt like it was feted." But, she says, "It couldn't be sustained."

She and Guthrie were lovers for 13 years, during which time the difficulties any relationship faces were compounded by being in a band together. "We were so close, but certain responsibilities were too much for us," Fraser says. The birth of their daughter Lucy-Belle in 1989 "didn't impact as positively" as she'd hoped.

There were resentments on both sides, she says. They were "outgrowing each other" and Fraser was increasingly unhappy in the band. She resented "doing what people wanted all the time" and began to break free, a process documented on the unusually direct lyrics of the 1993 album Four-Calendar Cafe. The situation was sharpened by Guthrie's dependency on alcohol and drugs, revelations (which came from him, after the band's split) that shocked fans. But Fraser's own unhappiness was unnoticed by her colleagues.

"I turned to others for some sort of reality check, [but] they hadn't even noticed there was a problem," she says. "And that was another thing that sent me absolutely round the bend. When you need things measured and it's not happening it can make you feel quite mad." Fraser endured a nervous breakdown, and underwent a course of psychotherapy. Today, she remains irked by the suggestion Guthrie made after completing rehab, that he'd needed the drugs to make the music.

"I don't believe that and I don't think he believed that in the beginning," she insists. "I mean, I tried to keep up, but I find it difficult enough to communicate anyway. On drugs I just shut down. I just thought they'd get fed up with it, and get into something … healthy." She allows herself a chuckle. "But it never worked out."

Fraser is still furious with herself for staying in the band for two years (and another album, 1996's Milk and Kisses) after her relationship with Guthrie ended – "but we were terribly over-contracted and I wasn't strong enough to stop it". The resulting tensions, she says, caused the greatest lasting damage. "Periodically, my mind is blown," she says, "and I'm swamped in feelings I can't deny."

After parting from Guthrie, but still in the same band, Fraser struck up an intense relationship with Jeff Buckley after they became infatuated with each other's voices. Again, emotion produced music. A sublime duet they recorded called All Flowers in Time Bend Towards the Sun is floating around the internet, to her irritation.

"Why do people have to hear everything?" she complains. I tell her it's wonderful. "But it's unfinished, you see. I don't want it to be heard." There's a pause. "Maybe I won't always think that."

Buckley died in 1997, by which time they had lost touch – Fraser had grown frustrated with his constant touring, a reaction that weighs heavily on her. "I just wish I'd been more of a friend," she says, softly. "His career was everything to him, and I wish I had been more understanding – happy with a different kind of relationship. I missed out on something there, and it was my fault."

The news that Buckley had disappeared – he drowned, swimming in the Wolf river in Memphis – came while Fraser was recording Teardrop with Massive Attack. "That was so weird," she says. "I'd got letters out and I was thinking about him. That song's kind of about him – that's how it feels to me anyway." It seems she is haunted by guilt: for not being there for Buckley, for everything. As she puts it: "I need to forgive myself."

She changes the subject, suggesting we call Reece – touring in snowbound Bratislava – and immediately brightens. Even over speakerphone, their chemistry is obvious.

"Did people tell you to keep away from me, that I was fucking trouble?" she asks him.

He chuckles. "Only one or two."

The couple met shortly before the Cocteau Twins split. He literally whisked her off on his Triumph motorcycle, a memory which gets him talking about fellow motorcyclist Drake-Brockman. When Reece and Fraser moved to Bristol, Drake-Brockman helped fix up the house, and taught Lily to swim. Reece is still in shock after the accident that killed his friend. "He wore a tweed jacket and rode a 1938 machine," he says. "He was going to be the old man on the motorcycle when he was 80."

Talk turns to Fraser, who'd earlier explained that another reason for her withdrawal from public life was having a second child. After the birth of Lucy-Belle, she'd kept on working, but she made sure she was able to watch her second child grow up. "I was so angry with myself," she sighs. "I realised what I'd missed out on. But that's me, angry, angry!"

However, the scars of the past are healing. Despite the burdens she carries she is happy, and now her closeness to Reece has produced her first new music for more than a decade. The couple have even made "what might become an album", music that – untypically – she says she is very proud of. But she insists that – just like the duet with Buckley – the music isn't finished, and isn't ready for public consumption. "I'm very perfectionist," she explains. "I'm getting stronger as a person, but sometimes I just need to" – she's laughing now – "get over myself!"

Reece understands that the process of putting her back together as a singer is an ongoing process.

"I feel sorry for the general public because I hear her singing in the house and it's truly amazing," he says. "But she's absolutely genuine in every way possible. Which can be very frustrating, but is an amazing attribute to have. I've worked with many singers, and a lot of them are fake. The world is a sadder place without Elizabeth singing."

Fraser smiles sweetly, and doesn't say a word.

Dave Simpson, The Guardian, 26.11.09

http://www.guardian.co.uk/music/2009/nov/26/cocteau-twins-elizabeth-fraser-interview

Coup de théâtre dans le procès de l'ancien chef de la prison de Tuol Sleng sous le régime khmer rouge, jugé pour crimes de guerre au Cambodge. Après s'être dit coupable tout au long de la procédure, Douch a demandé vendredi son acquittement au tribunal de Phnom Penh.

S'il a une nouvelle fois reconnu, vendredi, les crimes qui lui sont reprochés, il a également tenté d'expliquer à ses juges qu'il n'était pas un haut responsable du régime de Pol Pot et qu'il échappait donc aux compétences de cette juridiction. Et d'ajouter, très clairement : «Je voudrais que la chambre me libère».

Surpris, le président du tribunal, Nil Nonn, a alors tenté de comprendre ce brutal changement d'orientation, en lui demandant s'il ne préférait pas plutôt que les juges tiennent compte des dix ans de détention provisoire qu'il a déjà effectués depuis son arrestation.

«Je voudrais que la chambre me libère et vous demande, s'il vous plaît, de permettre à mon co-avocat, Kar Savuth, de dire quelques mots», a confirmé l'ancien dirigeant khmer rouge, aujourd'hui âgé de 67 ans. Me Savuth a alors soutenu sa demande, en reprenant l'analyse juridique déjà plaidée à l'audience mercredi.

Contradiction absolue avec son comportement initial

Alors que le procès touchait à sa fin après plusieurs mois de procédure, cette surprenante évolution de la défense de Douch apparaît en contradiction absolue avec son comportement depuis le début de l'instruction. Il avait en effet rapidement choisi de coopérer avec la justice et avait même indiqué accepter par avance n'importe quelle peine.

Cette démarche rend aussi totalement caduque la plaidoirie de l'avocat français de Douch, Me François Roux, qui s'était désolidarisé jeudi de son confrère cambodgien. Il avait demandé à l'accusation de tenir compte des aveux et des remords de son client pour alléger sa peine.

Renonçant à réclamer la perpétuité, le procureur international avait ainsi requis mercredi 40 ans de réclusion à l'encontre de Douch, jugé pour crimes de guerre et crimes contre l'humanité pour avoir dirigé la prison de Tuol Sleng, aussi connue sous le nom de S-21, entre 1975 et 1979. Quelque 15 000 personnes y ont été torturées puis, exécutées, au cours de ces quatre années. Environ deux millions de Cambodgiens, soit un quart de la population, sont morts sous la torture, d'épuisement ou de malnutrition pendant cette période, avant que le régime ne soit renversé par l'invasion vietnamienne. Le verdict est attendu début 2010.

Le Figaro, 27.11.09

http://www.lefigaro.fr/international/2009/11/27/01003-20091127ARTFIG00372-coup-de-theatre-au-proces-de-douch-.php

¿Le molesta?
No, no, pero la música está muy alta (pide que la bajen). No se qué pasa con la música en los restaurantes de este país. Es terrible, no puedes estar tranquilo.

Ha hecho el camino sin que le molesten los curiosos. ¿Cree que en Barcelona sería menos "invisible", le asediarían más?
Tengo la sensación de que formo parte de la cultura de España.

Unos conocidos vinieron a Nueva York a pasar sus vacaciones y cogieron un apartamento en Brooklyn para tener una experiencia "austeriana"...
Me parece una locura. No puedo decir nada más. No tiene sentido que alguien venga a Brooklyn porque yo vivo aquí.

Tal vez creían en un tropiezo casual con usted, fruto del azar, una circunstancia tan característica de sus novelas...
No son mis libros, sino que todo en la vida es fruto del azar. Es fascinante pensar, por ejemplo, ¿dónde se conocieron tus padres? Es la suerte. Si ellos no se hubieran encontrado, tú no estarías en Brooklyn. ¿No es una historia extraña? Se encontraron por suerte, no lo dudes, y ahora estás sentado enfrente de mí...

...hablando con Paul Auster...
Cada vida es el producto de un accidente que sucedió una vez.

En su última obra vuelve a producirse una historia de azar. ¿Feliz con el resultado?
¿Feliz? Nunca.

¿Por qué no?
No sentirse feliz forma parte de la naturaleza de este trabajo. Experimento un minuto de satisfacción cuando acabo un libro o cuando pienso que ha sido un buen día de trabajo. Después, me gana el desasosiego, pienso que he de leer más libros para hacerlo mejor en la próxima ocasión.

La crítica que se publicó hace unos días el "Book Review" del "The New York Times" concluía que ésta es su mejor novela...
Lo sé. Sólo es la opinión de una persona. Y cada una tiene una opinión diferente.

Sí, porque, esta semana, James Wood arremete contra usted en The New Yorker.
No he leído la reseña. No leo ninguna desde hace cuatro o cinco años, aunque también la conozco. Sé que me ataca. No tengo nada personal con él, pero siempre es así. Muchos amigos me preguntan cuál es el problema. Es un reaccionario. No quiero preocuparme. Siri, mi mujer, que está de viaje, me llamó para contármelo. Dijo que era como si vas por la calle y un desconocido te suelta un puñetazo en la cara.

Son giros, tan chocantes como los de su relato, donde juega con lo que es verdad o no...
La verdad es una de las cosas más frágiles del mundo, no sabemos qué sucede realmente. Incluso nuestra propia memoria se destruye mientras trabaja nuestra experiencia. Y descubrimos más cosas conforme nos hacemos mayores. Si yo fallo, si me equivoco al recordar cosas, y es mi propia vida, ¡imagínate cómo son las consideraciones que hace la gente! Es fascinante. La memoria juega con nosotros.

Y usted juega con el atractivo de las versiones que se niegan. Gwyn que desmiente el relato de su hermano, Adam...
Sí, dice que nunca sucedió. Ella tiene un argumento, es muy lúcida y resulta convincente.

Pero Freeman, su alter ego dentro de la historia, certifica que todo lo otro que explica Adam es cierto...
Es lo que Freeman concluye, nada más. Es un punto de vista, y de nuevo, ¿dondé está la verdad? Este es e libro de lo invisible. Tal vez la verdad es invisible.

Lo que sí se ve es su valentía para narrar un incesto.
Es lo más apasionante del libro.

Los críticos han puesto el acento en su erotismo...
Nunca había ido tan lejos. Resulta difícil de escribir, es duro. He intentado hacerlo con el máximo de honestidad, sin usar metáforas, describiendo lo que sucede con un lenguaje directo.

Dicen no sentir culpa...
Porque no hieren a nadie y su acto no tiene consecuencias fuera de ellos. Están convencidos de que no es un crimen ni un pecado porque no trasciende. ¿No hay pecado si todo queda en el interior de uno? Reconozco que aquí hay un punto de discusión.

Una de sus frases: "Miedo es lo que hace que nos atrevamos a tomar riesgos".
Lo digo a la hora de escribir, en el sentido de que es difícil de explicar una relación incestuosa y lograr ser convincente.

Difícil por eso del pecado...
No quiero criminalizar. Hablo de lo que sucede en el interior de unas personas y no de cómo se las ve desde el exterior, que es donde se hacen los juicios y se culpabiliza. No quería expresar el sentimiento de que se hace un juicio. Es un momento intenso.

Otra sentencia: "La guerra es una de las más puras expresiones del alma humana".
Yo no lo creo. Es lo que piensa Born, uno de los personajes. Pero es innegable que es una cuestión de debate. A pesar de los años de civilización, seguimos matándonos los unos a los otros. Cada día alguien mata a alguien. Es un pensamiento horrible, en cuanto nos sentimos agredidos lo asociamos a matar al que nos agrede.

La novela arranca en 1967, la guerra de Vietnam está presente, hoy es Afganistán…
Estados Unidos siempre está envuelto en guerras, donde sea, en cualquier lugar del mundo. Irán, Irak, ocho años terribles, Israel, Palestina, Oriente medio, Ruanda… Es una verdad terrible.

¿El conflicto afgano será el Vietnam de Obama?
Espero que nos saque de allí, donde cada día perdemos gente, derrochamos mucho dinero, causamos dolor y aumentamos la animadversión hacia nosotros como nunca antes. Sin embargo, no sé si ahora puede sacarnos.

-Le gusta Obama...
-Su elección me alegró. El presidente es brillante, tiene talento y la derecha republicana se ha de reconstruir, está verdaderamente muy deprimida. Sin duda, es mucho mejor que el anterior.

El terrible atentado del 2001 vuelve a salir en su libro, aunque sea sólo una pincelada.
Si escribes sobre algo que sucede después del 2001, y eres americano y más en concreto neoyorquino, es imposible no pensar en lo que sucedió. Piensas cada día.

También se refiere a la pesadilla de los neoyorquinos de que alguien, de repente, les salgas con una pistola...
Si cierto, pero especialmente entonces, cuando se encuadra esta historia. Los 60 y 70 eran muy violentos, mucho más que ahora. La ciudad ahora es más segura. Esa imagen del libro explica lo peligrosa que era entonces la ciudad, con drogas por todos los lados, pistolas y navajas, amenazas, tiroteos. Todavía los hay pero no en el grado de entonces. Cuando era estudiante ibas por la calle mirando a tu alrededor.

¿En Manhattan?
Sí, en todos los lados, pero sobre todo en Manhattan. En esa época nunca había puesto los pies en Brooklyn

¿Por qué eligió Brooklyn para vivir?
Fue hace casi 30 años. Y fue sencillamente porque no podía vivir en Manhattan por una cuestión de dinero. Era más barato.

¿Ha descubierto su espíritu?
Vine por necesidad. Me trasladé en 1981 y jamás pensé que no me movería. Cuando vino mi mujer del medio oeste, en 1978, estaba en Manhattan, pero era caro, y se vino a Brooklyn. Hace unos años, el apartamento se nos quedó pequeño, nos teníamos que cambiar a uno más grande. Le dije si quería volver a Manhattan, que era el momento. Pero no, nos quedamos en Brooklyn, sólo nos movimos un bloque. Ahora hay muchos escritores jóvenes americanos que viven en Brooklyn, al menos la mitad

¿Qué le ha llevado escribir esta novela?
He trabajado en ella seis o siete meses, cada día. Pero cada libro es diferente. Algunos los escribes en diez años, otros en uno, otros en medio año, todo depende.

¿Los piensa y los madura durante mucho tiempo?
No, por lo general, pienso algo y lo escribo. Sin embargok, durante años pensé una de mis novelas, "Brooklyn Follies". Cuando la escribí, al acabarla, me quedé vació, no sabía qué hacer, absolutamente vació. No tenía ideas.

¿Y ahora?
Ya tengo otro libro acabado. Lo terminé hace dos meses y saldrá el próximo año. Finito.

¿De que va?
Ya se verá.

Dice que está vació, ¿no se refugiará en el cine?, ¿algún proyecto de película?
No, no

Se había dicho que podía hacer algo con Pedro Almodóvar.
Nada. Estuve con Pedro hace unos días, cuando vino por el festival de cine de Nueva York. Es un tipo muy inteligente, listo, controla todos sus proyectos y no ha querido irse a Hollywood como muchos directores europeos. Su última película, "Los abrazos rotos", me ha encantado. Ya sé que en España la criticaron, pero a mi me gusta. Me gusta su historia, cómo la organiza, las referencias a otras películas, el ambiente. Y Penélope está fascinante.

Cree que sus libros son cinematográficos.
No, es una concepción errónea. Mis libros no son nada cinematográficos. Entre otras cuestiones, son muy descriptivos, tienen muy poco diálogo. Tal vez lo que ocurre es que la gente visualiza mis novelas.

Aunque también de pasada, en Invisible hace una referencia a la imposibilidad de olvidarse del béisbol…
Y más en temporadas como esta, que ha sido terrible. Todos los jugadores de los Mets se lesionaban, todo el equipo ausente. Pero estoy esperanzado con el próximo año, será diferente, ja, ja, ja.

¿Y los Yankees?
En las "World Series" (las eliminatorias finales) quería que ganarán.

¡Qué raro para un aficionado de los Mets!
Soy neoyorquino y tienen un jugador que me gusta mucho, Derek Jeter. Es uno de los mejores. No es el que tiene más talento, pero es listo y juega siempre al máximo, nunca se excusa, siempre está en el punto. En los momentos de presión, de nervios, él sabe jugar cuando muchos fallan.

¿Por qué los jugadores de béisbol siempre escupen?
Por los nervios…

Francesc Peirón, La Vanguardia, 26.11.09

http://www.lavanguardia.es/cultura/noticias/20091126/53831349127/tal-vez-la-verdad-es-invisible-brooklyn-manhattan-nueva-york-vietnam-pedro-almodovar-paul-auster-edi.html

But just two months after Nigeria’s leaders declared an amnesty program for armed vigilantes a success, there already are signs that the relative quiet may not last long.

Although civilians and others are no longer being killed in the confused crossfire between militants, thugs and the army, and militants are no longer regularly blowing up oil pipelines, former fighters recently rampaged near a university here, beating and raping students, according to a government spokesman and residents in the area.

One of the top rebel commanders who disarmed his militia is already expressing impatience with the government’s pace of bringing jobs and development money to the region. And the country’s leaders remain vague about how they plan to solve the complex, underlying problems that have kept the people of the Niger Delta impoverished and angry.

Analysts who study the region and activists say it is unclear if a majority of militants gave up their guns and suggest that the government will need to act quickly to find legal sources of income for the fighters, who were making big money stealing oil from the blown-up pipelines and kidnapping oil workers for ransom. Barring that, they say, they expect renewed violence to once again imperil the Delta’s people and an industry that supplies as much as 12 percent of the United States’ oil.

One diplomat who spoke on the condition of anonymity, following protocol, said, “Kidnappings and other violent incidents are still occurring quite regularly, but are not reported in the local or national press.”

Even Bestman Nnwoka, the state coordinator for the amnesty program here, acknowledged that it had gotten off to a slow start. “We should match the acceptance by the militants with actions to show commitment by the government,” he said.

Aluu and other nearby towns are suburbs of Port Harcourt, the Delta’s oil center, where major corporations ship out oil pumped from offshore and onshore wells that earn them a fortune every year. Billions of dollars flow to Nigeria’s state governments, but most of the money is siphoned off by corrupt officials, leaving markets and roads here as decrepit as anywhere else in West Africa, and the beggars just as needy.

And while the oil pumped here will provide other countries with energy, residents get sporadic electricity and wait in interminably long lines for gasoline, which is in short supply.

The glaring inequities, as well as simple thuggery, have fueled the violence here for years. Just last May, the military responded to the violence with an offensive that reportedly left hundreds dead in a half-dozen villages. Then, over the summer, the government changed tack, making expansive promises of cash — $13 a day for each fighter who disarmed — as well as job training and $1.3 billion to build roads, schools and hospitals.

When prominent militants agreed to the amnesty plan, President Umaru Yar’Adua was ecstatic, saying the government would do everything it could to ensure that the region’s oil riches became “a source of blessing rather than a curse.”

But after the recent attacks on students in this dusty dirt-road suburb of Port Harcourt, terrified residents say they were safer before the government enticed the militants to leave their hide-outs along the creeks that weave through the area.

“They have turned them outside, and it is very risky to our lives,” said Julius Ebierefa, 23, a student at the University of Port Harcourt, who said he avoided being beaten by running away and hiding.

The rioters also ransacked stores, and this week, wary government troops patrolled Aluu Street, where some stores remained empty and smashed cars dotted the road.

“They were grabbing women,” said Rita Briggs, a store owner whose shelves were picked bare. “The girls came back with their bras torn.”

The men who attacked the town came from a nearby camp where the government is running a rehabilitation center for former militants at a onetime government training institute. They became violent because they were angry that their government payments were late.

From the camp’s periphery this week, a band of young men could be seen drifting aimlessly on the grounds. Government officials would not allow a tour inside the camp, and when journalists tried to visit, soldiers angrily waved guns, shouting, “You are spies!”

An activist from Port Harcourt who has been allowed inside, Annkio Briggs, was not impressed. “They’re definitely not prepared,” said Ms. Briggs, of United Niger Delta Energy Development Security Strategy. Although the government had said it would provide job training and other skills to help the men adjust to more normal lives, she said the men she saw were just hanging around and living in squalid conditions. “If their payment doesn’t come, they don’t eat,” she said.

Timiebi Koripamo-Agary, spokeswoman for the presidential panel on amnesty, blamed militant leaders for the delays, saying they were supposed to devise their own plans for rehabilitating their men. And she argued that the amnesty had still been a “huge success” because the attacks had stopped. In the first nine months of last year alone, the International Crisis Group reported that 1,000 people had been killed.

Ateke Tom, one of the best-known vigilante leaders, blamed the government for delays in getting help to the area.

Miles away from here, in a compound of stucco buildings, he expressed anger and impatience.

“They said they would give our boys work, and that’s why we accepted,” said Mr. Tom, whose group is widely believed to have been involved in numerous bloody gun battles. Stern-faced young men lined the wall behind him in the compound’s landscaped courtyard.

“For now they have not given us anything,” Mr. Tom said from behind mirrored sunglasses. “We are still watching. We want to know how it will end.” With that he flung away the remains of a glass of gin and began drinking beer.

Mr. Tom said he had engaged in only one kidnapping during his vigilante career, and only because “that day I was very much annoyed.”

“The government shot one of my boys,” he said.

Although his relative wealth is obvious — he said he owned “about” eight houses — he denied stealing oil.

Like other vigilante leaders, he readily invoked the region’s deprivation — academic studies suggest that 80 percent of Nigeria’s oil wealth goes to 1 percent of its population — as a reason for his militancy. But analysts who acknowledge the inequities say the area’s problems are much more complex: a mix of corporate self-interest and greed, not only by the government but also by militants, who are sometimes driven less by idealism than by the promise of riches.

“My overwhelming sense is, not much has happened at all,” said Michael Watts, an expert on the region at the University of California, Berkeley. “They got off to a bad start, a typical political move in Nigeria, you throw money at the problem.”

He added that so far he had seen little evidence of a “post-amnesty plan.” Perhaps more troubling, he said, is that he has seen little proof that a majority of militants disarmed; he estimates that as many as 15,000 may not have.

Patrick Naagbanton, an activist with the Center for Environment, Human Rights and Development, a nonprofit group in Port Harcourt, said that he believed that not all the weapons had been surrendered and that he worried that the government was never serious about rehabilitation.

“They’ve succeeded in getting the boys out of the way,” he said. “It’s not about rehabilitating anyone.”

Mr. Tom, the former vigilante, voiced similar suspicions.

“They’ve taken all our weapons,” he said, “and maybe that’s why they’ve decided to slow down. Because they’ve taken everything from us.”

Adam Nossiter, The New York Times, 27.11.09

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/11/27/world/africa/27nigeria.html?ref=world

Il faut prendre le titre du nouveau film de Michael Moore au pied de la lettre, en se souvenant des vers immortels de Fred Chichin et Catherine Ringer (les Rita Mitsouko) "les histoires d'amour finissent mal/en général". Michael Moore s'est toujours mis en scène. Il y a vingt ans, on pouvait croire que le "moi" du film Roger et moi était là pour rendre service, pour guider le spectateur dans les méandres de la désindustrialisation. En fait, Michael Moore est de l'espèce des clowns qui se mettent en scène. Avec son sous-titre explicite This Time, It's Personal ("cette fois-ci, c'est personnel"), Capitalism: A Love Story assume cette dimension égocentrique.

Voici donc l'autoportrait d'un enfant d'ouvrier américain, qui a grandi dans un monde où l'on changeait de voiture tous les ans, où l'on partait en vacances à New York, où, chaque année, papa gagnait un peu plus. Une belle séquence (car il s'en trouve dans ce collage) montre justement le père de Michael Moore devant un immense terrain vague où se tenait, il y a encore quelques années - au siècle dernier, dans un autre âge -, l'usine automobile pour laquelle il travaillait.

Dès 1989, le réalisateur filmait le démantèlement de l'industrie automobile sur le territoire des Etats-Unis, raillant l'impuissance des syndicats, appelant à la révolte. Aujourd'hui, Michael Moore oscille entre la satisfaction masochiste du prophète de malheur à qui le temps a donné raison et la mélancolie de l'ex-petit garçon chassé d'un éden capitaliste qu'il a tant aimé.

Cette veine autobiographique qui parcourt tout le film est souvent dissimulée par l'habituel bric-à-brac d'arguments qui constitue désormais la masse d'un long métrage de Michael Moore. Il faut dire que les derniers mois en ont produit assez pour réaliser des douzaines de versions de Capitalism: A Love Story, et Moore n'a rien perdu de son flair pour sélectionner les illustrations les plus saisissantes des dérives (ou de la vraie nature) d'un système.

On découvrira donc, en début de film, les "polices de gueux morts" (dead peasant policies) que les grandes firmes américaines prennent sur la vie de leurs salariés, afin d'ajouter à leurs bénéfices commerciaux les revenus non imposables qu'apportent les décès prématurés de leurs collaborateurs. Ou la maison de correction privée du comté de Wilkes-Barre (Pennsylvanie), dont les gestionnaires rémunéraient les juges qui leur envoyaient de jeunes pensionnaires. Bien sûr, l'essentiel de l'argumentaire tourne autour du krach financier de l'automne 2008 et de ses causes. Or le phénomène a été couvert et analysé en profondeur, et Michael Moore arrive bien tard. Sur le front de l'investigation, la presse écrite a, cette fois, fait son travail, le metteur en scène ne peut ici prétendre combler un vide, comme il l'a fait au moment de Fahrenheit 9/11. Et sur le front comique, le présentateur Jon Stewart l'a de loin précédé.

Si l'on s'est un peu intéressé aux événements financiers de ces derniers mois, la démonstration de Michael Moore n'apporte pas grand-chose de neuf. Mais on comprendra mieux au fil de séquences chantant les louanges de la fibre sociale de l'Eglise catholique, ou remontant de vieux films en super-8 tournés à l'époque de la grande prospérité, d'où vient cette figure singulière et attachante, que l'on sent aujourd'hui découragée. La dernière séquence montre un Moore en quinquagénaire fatigué, entourant le pâté de maisons de Wall Street d'un ruban jaune signalant le lieu du crime, suppliant les spectateurs de le rejoindre enfin dans son combat.

Formalmente, la campaña acabó anoche, pero hace días que el desánimo y la apatía están instalados en el equipo del candidato del Partido Nacional, el conservador Luis Alberto Lacalle. En privado, los blancos exhalan un pesimismo reforzado con gestos significativos. El más revelador se produjo el miércoles, cuando Lacalle tenía previsto participar en una caravana de coches que recorrió localidades del extrarradio de Montevideo. La caravana se hizo, pero sin Lacalle. Tampoco acudió su candidato a vicepresidente, Carlos Larrañaga. El presidenciable se quedó en casa, concediendo entrevistas telefónicas.

La moral de Lacalle debía estar muy baja para no ir a uno de los últimos actos masivos de la campaña, pues probablemente conocía con anticipación las tres encuestas difundidas la tarde del miércoles. Según esas proyecciones, Mujica obtendría entre el 50% y el 51% de los votos, mientras que Lacalle sacaría entre el 41% y el 45% de los sufragios. Y en Uruguay, con poco más de 2,5 millones de electores, los institutos de opinión raramente erran.

Además, Lacalle y Larrañaga fueron entrevistados esa misma noche en Teledoce. El candidato blanco se pasó los primeros minutos del programa reprochando el supuesto mal trato recibido de los medios. Luego, Lacalle dijo que tiene esperanzas en el "voto silencioso", en referencia a los votantes indecisos, a quienes calificó de "decisos callados". La realidad es que los indecisos no superan el 5%. Antes de esa entrevista, Lacalle había declarado a El País de Montevideo que "ya está todo dicho".

Las pocas probabilidades que Lacalle tenía de vencer en el balotaje ya eran mínimas (Mujica ganó la primera vuelta con más del 47%), pero las desperdició en las últimas semanas, tras un grave error. El 31 de octubre el contable Saúl Feldman murió en un enfrentamiento con la policía en Montevideo, tras hallar en su poder un moderno arsenal de 700 armas. Lacalle se apuntó a la teoría de que Feldman estaba vinculado con el extinto grupo guerrillero Tupamaros, del que fue dirigente Mujica. Pero Lacalle quedó en evidencia cuando se confirmó que Feldman era un simple traficante de armas.

Robert Mur, La Vanguardia, 27.11.09

http://www.lavanguardia.es/internacional/noticias/20091127/53832537849/lacalle-tira-la-toalla-ante-la-mas-que-probable-victoria-de-jose-mujica-montevideo-uruguay-carlos-la.html

After more than half a century of being ignored by Anglo-Saxon popular culture, Johnny is going to Hollywood, or perhaps Hallywood.

Quentin Tarantino has asked the indestructible French rock star Johnny Hallyday, 66, to appear in a movie, possibly next year. The French legend, once described by USA Today as "the biggest rock star you never heard of", is also considering an offer by the Coen brothers. "Quentin Tarantino is writing a screenplay for me but I haven't read it yet," Hallyday told the newspaper Le Parisien. "I am also going to meet the Coen brothers, who have approached my agent."

The director of Reservoir Dogs and Inglourious Basterds is said to have been bowled over by Hallyday's performance as an ageing gangster in Vengeance, a thriller by the Chinese director Johnnie To, which was shown at the Cannes film festival in May. Tarantino had dinner with the French star during the festival and they agreed in principle to make a movie together.

To appear in a Hollywood movie would be a final consecration for Johnny Hallyday, who has become a French national hero by reworking every passing style of American and British pop music since 1958. He has appeared in 30 French films, usually as either a pop star or a gangster. He has never previously made a film in his spiritual homeland, and recent, occasional country of domicile, the United States. "Johnny" – as he is universally known in the French-speaking world – is completing his latest, final, farewell concert tour of France, which is called Tour 66, after his age and the transcontinental highway of American rock legend. Between concerts, he spends much of his time in Los Angeles, where his two adopted Vietnamese daughters, Jade and Joy, aged five and two, are in school and kindergarten.

While in the United States, he revealed earlier this year, he likes to ride a Harley-Davidson through the Californian desert and to stay overnight incognito in small motels.

There has, until now, been little danger of him being recognised in the California boondocks. After 51 years in the rock business, 900 recorded songs, 100 live tours, four wives, two children, two grandchildren, two adopted children, two suicide attempts and 30 movies, Johnny's popularity is restricted almost entirely to the French-speaking world.

Quentin Tarantino, unusual for an American film executive in being a connoisseur of foreign movies, appears to be one exception to that rule. According to Paris Match, he admired Johnny Hallyday as an actor long before he saw him in Vengeance in Cannes earlier this year.

Tarantino is a fan of the now reclusive French "New Wave" director Jean-Luc Godard. He apparently first discovered Johnny Hallyday in Godard's film Detective (1984).

In an interview with Match yesterday, Hallyday said: "I have two or three [movie] proposals which interest me, including one which Tarantino is writing. We met in Cannes after [Vengeance] was shown. He said he adored the movie and wanted us to work together."

Hallyday's "final" tour has been marked by scares about his health. He had an operation for colon cancer last summer. He had to take the stage pumped with painkilling drugs after he dislocated his hip when he slipped on the deck of a yacht in Saint-Tropez in July. He admitted in his interview with Le Parisien that he has had, finally, to face up to his own mortality.

"They told me that [after the cancer operation], they had difficulties waking me up ... That sent shivers down my spine. My daughters are very small. I've had a good life but I would like to see them grow up. They need a Daddy."

John Lichfield, The Independent, 27.11.09

http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/music/news/johnny-goes-to-hallywood-1828781.html

«Les bousculades, les jurons permanents, moi aussi c'est mon quotidien !» s'exclame une enseignante de Saint-Denis (Seine-Saint-Denis). Comme cent vingt enseignants, proviseurs et infirmières scolaires et une poignée d'élèves, elle est venue participer volontairement à une conférence-débat des «mercredis de Créteil» organisée dans un lycée de Maisons-Alfort (Val-de-Marne), sur la violence et le sexisme. Une initiative imaginée l'an dernier par le recteur, Jean-Michel Blanquer, comme une nouvelle forme de formation continue «volon­taire, libre et transdiscipli­naire».

Le point de départ, c'est le visionnage, cet après-midi-là, du film La Journée de la jupe. Dans la classe de l'enseignante jouée par Isabelle Adjani, une fille en jupe est forcément une «pute». Et les insultes tiennent lieu de conversation. Cette dernière, débordée par le comportement de ses élèves, craque et finit par les prendre en otage avec un pistolet.

Ce film, qui a fait débat dans la presse au printemps dernier, pour sa vision «caricaturale et outrancière» des élèves, selon certaines critiques, semble faire au contraire l'unanimité auprès de ces professionnels de l'éducation. «Je ne me sens pas du tout dépaysée », intervient timidement une enseignante d'histoire expérimentée issue d'un lycée de Meaux (Seine-et-Marne), qui reconnaîtra ensuite ne pas toujours savoir comment s'y prendre face à la violence de certains élèves : «Je suis rentrée plusieurs fois en larmes chez moi, dépassée.» En aparté, une enseignante de ­lettres affirme que la moitié des professeurs qu'elle connaît «sont sous antidépresseurs».

«Il faudrait apprendre aux jeunes enseignants comment gérer la violence, leur expliquer ce qui peut se passer. Mais c'est impossible à prévoir. J'ai fait quinze établissements dans ma carrière et je pense que ça peut péter n'importe où, n'importe quand  », s'enflamme un professeur.

L'enseignante du film «est seule, comme le sont beaucoup de profs aujourd'hui. Elle défend bien l'idée de laïcité, mais le fait d'échanger avec des collègues lui aurait permis de mieux gérer sa ­classe  », fait cependant observer une conseillère principale d'éducation.

Dans les établissements de banlieue où beaucoup travaillent, le sexisme est, comme dans le film «omniprésent », affirment ces professionnels. Un proviseur du Val-de-Marne explique la réalité «quotidienne» de son établissement : «Les filles portent des pantalons ou s'habillent comme des sacs, car elles n'ont pas la possibilité de dévoiler leur féminité par peur d'être mal considérées.  » Professeur d'économie, Jean Latreille raconte quant à lui «la violence permanente du regard des garçons sur les filles». Il a vu circuler des photos de jeunes filles de sa classe, nues, d'un portable à l'autre. «Je l'ai observé dans plusieurs établissements différents, et pas uniquement en banlieue. La dernière fois c'était à Nantes», affirme-t-il. Un collégien de Bobigny, lui, minimise, avec une hiérarchie des valeurs qui lui est propre : «Une simple photo, c'est quand même beaucoup moins grave qu'une vidéo !» Assise à côté de lui, une autre affirme qu'elle n'a «jamais de problème quand elle vient en jupe».

L'infirmière scolaire de leur collège n'est pas du tout d'accord : «Ils ne veulent pas l'admettre, mais la situation est loin d'être aussi angélique.» À l'image de cette histoire d'attouchements dont elle a récemment dû s'occuper : «C'est complexe, car les victimes ne parlent pas forcément. Il faut les deviner à travers des absences, des retards »

«Sortir de la pornographie»

«Il n'est jamais question d'amour pour nos adolescents  », regrette Frédérique Oget, professeur de lettres classiques à La Ferté-sous-Gauchet (Seine-et-Marne). Cette dernière déplore «unevision de la sexualité réduite à la pornographie et aux parties génitales ». Après avoir un jour expliqué la traduction du mot «amour» en grec et en latin, avec les nuances assez subtiles de «désir» et de «manque », elle s'est entendu remercier par la meilleure élève de sa classe de troisième : «On ne nous avait jamais expliqué ça. C'est peut-être vous, madame, qui allez nous sortir de la pornographie ! » Les «valeurs de la République », tous ces enseignants disent y croire plus que jamais. Or ce film démontre aussi que «l'on n'impose pas des valeurs autour du sexisme et de la laïcité par sa simple autorité. On le paye toujours cher si on veut que ça change trop vite, comme le prouve la mort de la prof à la fin du film. Les changements se feront en douceur, grâce à nos convictions », conclut, optimiste, le professeur d'économie.

Marie-Estelle Pech, Le Figaro, 27.11.09

http://www.lefigaro.fr/actualite-france/2009/11/27/01016-20091127ARTFIG00020-violence-et-sexisme-inquietent-les-professeurs-de-banlieue-.php

Preguntado por el pronóstico del encuentro, apuesta por el Barcelona sin dudar. "Estamos haciendo grandes partidos, jugando al fútbol que sabemos jugar y con toda la afición detrás nuestro pienso que somos más fuerte, un equipo muy fuerte. Soy muy positivo con el partido y estoy muy seguro de que ganaremos", aseguró en una entrevista al portal 'Betfair' recogida por Europa Press.

"¿Las opciones? No lo sé, pero creo que debemos continuar en la línea de lo que estamos haciendo", señaló, además de reiterar que prevé muchos goles, sobre todo en el área de Casillas.

"Será un partido con muchos goles. Habrá muchos porque no nos gustar marcar uno o dos, nos gusta marcar muchos goles", aseveró.

El sueco opina que el 'clásico' entre FC Barcelona y Real Madrid es probablemente el partido "más espectacular del mundo" pues en él se puede ver a los mejores jugadores del mundo reunidos en un mismo terreno de juego, y asegura que el Barça ganará el duelo del próximo domingo.

"He visto muchos 'clásicos' y son grandes partidos, con grandes jugadores juntos en el terreno de juego y creo que probablemente sea el partido más espectacular en el Mundo entero que se pueda ver", manifestó.

Por ello, está contento de estar en un club de "máximo nivel". "Pienso que los mejores jugadores juegan en el Barcelona, y cuando estás aquí debes continuar trabajando porque muchos quieren jugar para el Barcelona pero no todo el mundo puede hacerlo", comentó sobre su privilegiada posición.

El delantero, que asegura no conocer cómo la gente vivirá el partido, sí que comentó estar "empezando a conocer la opinión de la gente y a sentir el ambiente".

La Vanguardia, 27.11.09

http://www.lavanguardia.es/deportes/noticias/20091127/53832682613/ibrahimovic-ganaremos.html

This week, a casual observer could have concluded that each had carried out its duty and that peace talks would move forward. Israel announced a 10-month settlement freeze on Wednesday; as to the Palestinians, violent attacks against Israelis have essentially ended. As Palestinian officials like to point out, trained Palestinian security forces have been keeping order in West Bank cities for more than a year.

But the casual observer would probably be mistaken. There are unlikely to be peace talks soon. In fact, tensions seem set to rise, partly because the claims of each side amount to half-truths, as the other is the first to note.

The 10-month settlement freeze excludes more than 2,500 housing units being built or recently authorized. The moratorium allows a limited number of schools, synagogues and community centers, the kind of “natural growth” banned by the dormant 2003 “road map” for peace, agreed to by the United States, the European Union, the United Nations and Russia.

In other words, although this represents a painful political concession by the Israeli government and is causing it internal trouble, there will never be a moment in the coming months when construction will stop in West Bank settlements.

And Israeli building in East Jerusalem, which the Palestinians want as their capital, will be unaffected.

As for the Palestinians’ claim to have successfully ended violence, the Israeli military begs to differ. Yes, its officers say, the Palestinian forces are better trained than in the past, and yes, they have worked seriously in their new roles. But without nightly Israeli raids into Palestinian cities, the violence would never have stopped.

“Last night we carried out between 15 and 20 actions,” a top Israeli commander said of the West Bank raids, in a recent interview under military rules of anonymity. “That was a fairly typical night. It’s like throwing a blanket on a fire. If we stop for a minute, we will go backwards very quickly. We call it cutting the grass.”

And, Israeli officials note, even if the Palestinian Authority were to receive full credit for the sharp reduction in West Bank-based violence, there is still Gaza. It is ruled by the Islamists of Hamas who remain dedicated to Israel’s destruction. Since Palestinian Authority officials dare not even set foot there, it is hard to credit their claim to have dismantled terrorist networks.

But each side in this dispute has stopped listening to the complaints and the accusations of the other. Many Israelis now firmly believe that the Palestinians are not serious about two states; the Palestinians feel the same way about the Israelis. As a result, each is appealing to a foreign audience in hopes of bringing pressure on the other.

Israeli officials made it clear that the settlement halt was focused mostly on one audience: the Obama administration, with which relations have been rocky. The construction pause, Israel’s ambassador to Washington, Michael B. Oren, said afterward, was “a gesture, first of all, to the president of the United States.”

“I can’t stress that enough,” he said.

The Americans made approving noises about the halt but seemed to suggest that more needed to be done to restart peace talks.

Palestinian leaders have spent much of their energy appealing to foreign powers about Israel’s actions. There was talk of a resolution in the United Nations Security Council declaring a Palestinian state until several Western leaders made it clear that this was unlikely to succeed. The idea has not died. The Palestinian prime minister, Salam Fayyad, prefers to focus instead on institution building toward a state. But few seem to be listening to him.

The Israeli settlement pause is part of a complex picture. Israel is currently negotiating indirectly with Hamas for the release of a seized soldier and is also trying to improve its international image after harsh criticism of its conduct in Gaza last January.

To arrange the return of the soldier, Staff Sgt. Gilad Shalit, Israel is preparing to release hundreds of Palestinian prisoners. The keen fear among Israeli and American intelligence officials is that both the prisoner exchange and the critique of Israel’s Gaza conduct will increase the power of Hamas, thereby reducing the standing of the Palestinian Authority, run by President Mahmoud Abbas, and decreasing the chances for peace talks.

So gestures to benefit Mr. Abbas are being urged on the Israeli government by its own security agencies and the Americans. That made the settlement pause, rejected in the spring, acceptable even to some on the Israeli right. More efforts are also under way to improve life in the West Bank. American suggestions have included handing over more land to Palestinian control and increasing the responsibility of Palestinian forces.

But Israel has so far resisted such suggestions. The Israeli commander said that if Israel were to hand over more responsibility to the Palestinians, it would lose the extensive intelligence network it has so painstakingly built up in the West Bank in recent years.

As another top commander put it, “If we want to prevent rockets from being shot from the West Bank, keeping our troops on the ground is probably necessary.”

But a national outpouring for Sergeant Shalit has meant that a deal is brewing that could free perhaps 1,000 Palestinian fighters, some of them planners of suicide bombings. In the Israeli military’s words, that would be a lot of new grass to cut. So there is a growing call in Israel to make this the last such lopsided deal for a captured soldier.

As Ari Shavit, a columnist, commented in the newspaper Haaretz on Thursday, the Shalit deal “erodes Israel’s deterrence” and “will weaken Palestinian President Mahmoud Abbas, flood the territories with skilled terrorists and lead to chaos.”

Others on both sides of the political spectrum are voicing similar concerns, suggesting that if the deal goes through, Israel will be very wary of seeming weak. Settlers and their supporters are already vowing a battle over the construction halt and the proposal to free the fighters. At the same time, the Palestinian Authority is seeking to associate itself with the prisoners expected to be released. In other words, if this exchange occurs, the likelihood of either side appearing conciliatory or of peace talks restarting soon seems low.

Ethan Bronner, The New York Times, 27.11.09

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/11/27/world/middleeast/27mideast.html?_r=1&hp

L'histoire de Vincere, film en compétition au dernier Festival de Cannes (aucune récompense), qui ne paie a priori pas de mine, déterre un chapitre méconnu de la vie privée du dictateur italien Benito Mussolini (1883-1945). Lequel se révèle ni moins atroce ni moins délirant que les autres chapitres de la saga du Duce. Il s'agit de sa liaison avec Ida Dalser, une jeune femme éperdue d'amour qui sacrifia sa fortune à l'édification de la carrière politique du leader fasciste et qui enfanta, le 11 novembre 1915, son premier fils, Benito Albino.

Le noeud tragique de cette liaison, et partant du film de Bellocchio, est que Mussolini était déjà père d'une fillette à cette date, dont il épousa la mère, Rachele Guidi, le 17 décembre 1915, tirant un trait définitif sur Ida Dalser et son fils. Celle-ci refusa opiniâtrement de se soumettre à cette décision, arguant d'un mariage dont aucune trace ne put être retrouvée.

Devenu, en 1922, le maître de l'Italie, Mussolini fit détruire ou falsifier toutes les preuves de leur liaison, et finit par faire enfermer Ida Dalser à l'asile, en 1926, où elle mourut en 1937. Leur fils, d'abord séparé de sa mère, fut également interné dans un asile, où il mourut en 1942. Leurs corps furent jetés à la fosse commune.

Le cinéma de Bellocchio se confronte depuis ses débuts (Les Poings dans les poches, 1965) à l'aliénation de l'individu par les institutions sociales. Sa belle intuition est d'avoir pressenti que cette histoire offrait au cinéma l'angle de pénétration le plus incisif pour évoquer, dans ce qu'il a de plus abject, le phénomène fasciste. Le fascisme, non pas tant comme appareil de domination, mais comme passion fusionnelle, conquête des âmes, dévotion des coeurs, transport amoureux, jouissance érotique.

Ce parallèle entre l'effusion charnelle et l'adhésion politique trouve son expression à travers un constant va-et-vient entre l'histoire intime, reconstituée avec des acteurs remarquables (Giovanna Mezzogiorno et Filippo Timi), et des images d'archives qui témoignent, par leur mise en scène opératique (lyrisme furieux de la composition musicale de Carlo Crivelli, slogans futuristes barrant l'écran, transes collectives, etc.), du vent de folie et de carnage qui s'empare alors de l'Histoire.

Ce que ce procédé pourrait faire perdre au fil d'une narration déjà fragmentée (le film couvre une longue période entre la rencontre des amants, en 1907, et l'enfermement de Benito Albino, en 1936), Bellocchio le reconquiert par la force et l'intuition de sa vision poétique. Pénombre baignant les amants comme la scène inconsciente du fascisme en devenir, troupe d'aveugles marchant silencieusement dans la nuit, scène de duel sous un ciel de plomb enfumé par de sinistres hauts-fourneaux, caresse ensanglantée des amants, grilles de l'asile que la femme abandonnée et à demi-folle escaladera pour jeter au-dehors ses lettres d'amour au Duce, ses doléances au monde entier.

Non moins remarquable est la part prépondérante que Marco Bellocchio consacre au cinéma proprement dit dans cette tragédie, par le montage d'archives ou par le biais de scènes durant lesquelles les personnages assistent à une projection (au cinéma, à l'hôpital, à l'asile, etc.), qu'il s'agisse de bandes d'actualités ou de fictions contemporaines de l'action du film (Le Kid, de Chaplin, Octobre, d'Eisenstein...). Car c'est bien avec l'émergence du totalitarisme que les mécanismes spectaculaires du cinéma, son cadre plus grand que nature, son culte de la vedette, sa puissance d'identification et de fascination sont mis à profit par le politique afin de subjuguer les mêmes spectateurs.

Le coup de génie de Vincere - "Vaincre" en français, et qui fut un slogan du fascisme - est de faire se succéder ici deux incarnations de Mussolini : la première, au temps de l'idylle du couple, par l'acteur qui l'interprète, la seconde, au temps de la rupture, par le véritable Mussolini, tel qu'Ida le découvre, désormais inaccessible, sur les écrans de cinéma. Avec ce résultat paradoxal que l'acteur de la reconstitution y paraît plus réel, plus crédible que le navrant histrion des actualités de l'époque. Cette figure monstrueuse, grotesque, n'est pourtant rien d'autre que la projection sur écran du fantasme passionnel d'Ida. Pathétique héroïne de ce mauvais mélo, Ida Dalser est à ce titre une figure de l'Italie telle qu'elle a rêvé le fascisme, telle qu'elle l'a aimé pratiquement jusqu'au bout en victime consentante. Et si par hasard on se demandait encore en quoi ce constat intéresse notre époque, il faudrait prêter attention à la troisième incarnation de Mussolini que nous donne à voir Vincere : Filippo Timi, interprète de Mussolini, y incarne également son fils, Benito Albino, à l'âge adulte : un faible d'esprit écrasé par la main paternelle, qui joue de sa ressemblance pour produire des imitations farcesques du Duce. Cette tragédie rejouée en farce, ne serait-ce pas l'Italie d'aujourd'hui ?

La concentración de hoy ha cerrado la Semana de los Basiyís, pero ha sido, sobre todo, un mensaje al movimiento de oposición popular que desde las elecciones del pasado junio ha puesto en tela de juicio no sólo la reelección de Mahmud Ahmadineyad, sino el propio sistema islámico. Obsesionados con la existencia de un complot y convencidos de que la oposición está alentada desde el exterior, los dirigentes iraníes han emprendido una ofensiva ideológica.

Entre las medidas que contemplan, destaca la implantación de 6.000 unidades basiyís en escuelas primarias de todo el país. El objetivo, según ha explicado el líder de los estudiantes basiyís, Mohammad Saleh Jokar, es "promover los ideales de la revolución islámica entre los alumnos, a una edad en la que todavía son influenciables". Según Jokar, en la actualidad hay 4,5 millones de alumnos de primaria y secundaria y 320.000 profesores adscritos a la milicia.

Estudiantes y profesores estaban representados hoy entre los asistentes a la ceremonia de su 30º aniversario, junto a brigadas de comerciantes, ingenieros, seminaristas, abogados y otros grupos profesionales. Tampoco faltaba la presencia simbólica de los dispuestos al martirio, reconocibles por estar envueltos en sudarios blancos. No había consignas políticas en sus banderolas, pero llegado el momento, todos corearon al unísono "Muerte a América" y "Muerte a Israel".

Esta milicia del pueblo fue creada por Jomeini para avanzar los objetivos de la Revolución Islámica. Su entrega se puso a prueba durante la guerra contra Irak, donde muchos de aquellos jóvenes voluntarios, algunos todavía niños, sirvieron de carne de cañón. Pero los basiyís de hoy tienen poco que ver con aquéllos. Aunque hoy han portado las mismas cintas rojas y pañuelos de cuadros que sus predecesores llevaron al frente, ya no gozan del reconocimiento popular que tuvieron.

Su asociación con los sectores más inmovilistas del régimen y en especial su papel represor -tras las elecciones del pasado junio , pero también en las revueltas estudiantiles de 1999-, les ha distanciado de amplios sectores de la sociedad. Menos conocida es su red de solidaridad en barrios y pueblos, colegios, universidades, mezquitas, ministerios y otros centros de trabajo. A través de ella, sus responsables no sólo hacen proselitismo en favor del régimen, sino que han tejido una red de clientelismo que garantiza las conexiones adecuadas sea para entrar en la universidad o realizar un negocio.

En realidad, la milicia tiene dos partes diferenciadas, una rama militar de entre 40.000 y 90.000 miembros profesionales y una nebulosa de voluntarios dispuestos a movilizarse frente a cualquier oposición al régimen, que Jomeini aspiraba a que alcanzara los 20 millones de adheridos.

Ángeles Espinosa, El Pais, 26.11.09

http://www.elpais.com/articulo/internacional/fuerzas/choque/ayatolas/celebran/cumpleanos/elpepuint/20091126elpepuint_15/Tes

Death and music have always been bedfellows, from the duel in the folk ballad "Matty Groves" to Motörhead's "Killed By Death". Yet commemorations of lost relatives or friends remain scarce, subjects only tackled by the most fearless artists.

Corinne Bailey Rae's long-awaited comeback – her debut came out in 2006 – has been overshadowed by the death of her husband, Jason Rae, from an accidental drug overdose. The forthcoming album, The Sea, reveals a new-found poignancy and emotional depth. It is a long way from the polished pop-soul of her first record.

This summer, Vini Reilly appeared at his home city's Manchester International Festival to unveil Paean to Tony Wilson, a suite of mainly instrumental pieces dedicated to the founder of Factory Records, who died in 2007. Wilson enjoyed a high profile as broadcaster, news reader and music impresario and gained yet more notoriety when he was affectionately sent up by Steve Coogan in Michael Winterbottom's 2002 film about the Manchester music scene, 24 Hour Party People. Yet Wilson was also a close friend of Reilly, who has recorded since the early 1980s as The Durutti Column. As Reilly's manager, Wilson was one of the first people to recognise the shy musician's talent, making him an early Factory signing and championing his music long after the label's collapse.

Reilly says: "I was at the hospital when he died. We were very, very close. Afterwards, many things were done in his name... I didn't attend many of them. I'd just lost one of my closest friends and I had all the grief that you feel under such circumstances. Once I got my act together, though, I decided to do something for myself and for Tony."

The opinionated Wilson had long argued that Reilly should curtail his hesitant singing and concentrate on his trademark, plangent guitar style. It is appropriate, then, that Paean, which is set for release in January, should be mainly wordless. Individual pieces range from bleak incomprehension to inconsolable grief as they veer between rock motifs and classical forms – there is a "Quatro" and, indeed, a "Requiem". Vocals float in and out like spectral visitors, indecipherable apart from a repeated snatch of Marvin Gaye's "What's Going On" – "Brother, there's far too many of you dying".

Could the avoidance of lyrics reflect an inability to put down feelings in words? Bereavement remains one of the trickiest life experiences to discuss and it is no wonder that the Fauré's Requiem is instantly recognisable to listeners whose experience of the classical genre encompasses little more than televised World Cup football. Its "Pie Jesu" is a staple of funeral services. Bereavement also brings uncomfortable questions: How to fill that loss? What happens after death? When artists try to answer them, the results often appear clumsy.

The most egregious example is Sean Combs's "I'll Be Missing You", which was written in honour of a fellow rapper, The Notorious B.I.G, who was killed in March 1997. Combs, who was then known as Puff Daddy, responded later that year with a tribute that made him a household name. The verses feature plain reminiscences about the pair hanging out; the single is famous for its chorus, which is taken wholesale from The Police's "Every Breath You Take". It is a strange choice, as the original portrayed a stalker.

A better response to an early ending of life is Eric Clapton's 1992 release "Tears In Heaven". The veteran was fabled for his virtuoso blues technique and rambunctious rock numbers, particularly "Layla", but this fragile piece revealed another side to his work. Its concern with the death of Clapton's four-year-old son, who fell from a New York apartment window, give it instant gravitas. The song, with its tremulous query – "Would you know my name/If I saw you in heaven?" – has proved its worth as a standard.

Almost as well known is Mike & The Mechanics' "The Living Years", which is an affecting look at father and son relations, at least until a choir comes in and gives it a claggy sentimentality. It was a collaboration between the former Genesis member Mike Rutherford and the lyricist BA Robertson, both of whom had recently lost their fathers.

For a look at maternal loss, look no further than John Lennon's "Mother". The former Beatle returned again and again to his mother, who died in a road accident when he was 17, from the delicate "Julia" on The White Album to the disturbing "My Mummy's Dead".

Reilly and Combs have contributed to a rich tradition of music dedicated to former bandmates and associates. The most immediate song about a lost collaborator must be Neil Young's raw "Tonight's The Night", about the death of the roadie Bruce Berry, who succumbed to a drugs overdose. Young had already referred to the effects of addiction in "The Needle And The Damage Done" In 1990, three years after the death of Andy Warhol, two former Velvet Underground members, Lou Reed and John Cale, created Songs For Drella – a tribute to the man who took the band under his wing in the 1960s.

If personal grief remains difficult to tackle in a rock lyric, artists have found ways of sublimating its effects. Many love songs compare the end of a relationship to bereavement – think of Cat Stevens' "The First Cut Is The Deepest". Another strategy is to write about a famous figure as if they were a close friend. This was particularly noticeable in the 1960s, after the assassinations of Martin Luther King and John F Kennedy. Take "Abraham, Martin and John", which was sung by Marvin Gaye, among others, or look at The Byrds' reworking of the folk standard "He Was A Friend Of Mine" in the wake of Kennedy's death.

Maybe the intimacy of those tunes points the way forward – it certainly brings to mind some contemporary songs. "Lucky Gilchrist", written about a friend, provides a powerful moment on The Unthanks' current album. The forthcoming release from the former Mercury Prize nominee Lou Rhodes is informed by the death of her sister, who took her own life in 2007.

One of the simplest elegies of all is Elbow's "Friend Of Ours", from their Mercury-winning 2008 album, The Seldom Seen Kid. That was a nickname for one of the band's mate, Bryan Glancy. On the album's closing track, the band sum up the awkwardness of talking about friendship and loss: "Never very good at goodbyes. So (gentle shoulder charge). Love you mate."

Chris Mugan, The Independent, 27.11.09

http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/music/features/ways-to-say-goodbye-1828338.html

Durant son procès, il a affirmé être "victime d'un traquenard" posé, selon lui, par la police politique en raison de ses écrits contre le régime du président Zine El-Abidine Ben Ali. "Je suis la victime et non l'accusé dans cette affaire entièrement montée par la police politique", avait-il répondu au juge qui l'interrogeait sur les charges retenues à son encontre.

CRIMINALISATION DE LA DISSIDENCE

Les organisations internationales de défense de la liberté de la presse soutiennent cette thèse et estiment que les charges ont été fabriquées de toutes pièces pour sanctionner ses prises de position critiques, publiées récemment dans la presse française. Reporters sans frontières (RSF) a aussitôt réagi après l'annonce du verdict en appelant les gouvernements étrangers à "cesser de protéger le régime" tunisien. "J'espère que les chancelleries étrangères, qui sont jusque-là restées timorées dans leur réaction, vont maintenant demander publiquement la libération de Taoufik Ben Brik", a déclaré Jean-François Julliard, le secrétaire général de l'ONG dans un communiqué.

"Cette condamnation est une criminalisation de la dissidence", a renchéri Azza Zarrad, l'épouse du journaliste, citée dans ce même communiqué. "On s'attendait à ce que la pression diplomatique joue son rôle. On est déçu. Jusqu'à quand l'Occident va-t-il applaudir Ben Ali ?" RSF a rappelé que le journaliste était atteint du syndrome de Cushing, une maladie dégénérative des défenses immunitaires qui "nécessite un suivi médical régulier", jugeant "indispensable qu'il soit placé dans un endroit propre et chauffé".

Le Monde, 26.11.09

http://www.lemonde.fr/afrique/article/2009/11/26/tunisie-l-opposant-taoufik-ben-brik-condamne-a-six-mois-de-prison_1272398_3212.html#ens_id=1245377

Buscando a Eric es el nuevo filme de Ken Loach (Nuneaton, Inglaterra, 1936), una comedia en la que sin abandonar sus temas sociales el cineasta sí permite más risas de las habituales entre sus fieles. Como secundario de lujo, el auténtico Cantona, una figura sin parangón en el mundo del fútbol -si acaso, Juanito, el fallecido jugador del Real Madrid, podría acercarse al francés- por su mezcla de chulería, talento y amor a su equipo. Coescrito con su guionista habitual, Paul Laverty (En un mundo libre..., El viento que agita la cebada, Pan y rosas, Mi nombre es Joe o La canción de Carla), en el libreto de Buscando a Eric está una de las mejores frases de la temporada de cine, cuando el futbolista, para aclarar una pregunta del cartero, le mira fijamente y en su inglés con acentazo francés se autodefine: "I'm not a man, I'm Cantona [No soy un hombre, soy Cantona]". Como para hacerse camisetas. Esta semana Loach estuvo en Madrid promocionando el filme, viendo en la tele los partidos de la Champions y de cervezas con Laverty, que vive en Madrid.

Pregunta. ¿Cuál es su primer recuerdo futbolero?

Respuesta. Me acuerdo de ir con mi padre al estadio de mi pueblo. Era una ciudad pequeña, industrial, llamada Nuneaton, y teníamos abonos de temporada. Lo que más recuerdo era el olor de tabaco, porque entonces se fumaba mucho en los estadios. Yo tendría unos cinco años.

P. Paul Laverty, al que le encanta el fútbol, dice que su relación con este deporte ha cambiado mucho: ya no lo vive con tanta pasión y el fútbol inglés ha cambiado mucho.

R. Pues la mía sigue igual. Porque el equipo de mi ciudad natal era pequeño, y aún lo es. Alí no han cambiado mucho las cosas: siguen sin mucho dinero. El dolor por las derrotas y las alegrías por las victorias son las mismas. Y tampoco ha cambiado que sufro más que me alegro. La Premier Lague es otra cosa.

P. ¿Es cierto que fue Cantona quien se puso en contacto con ustedes para proponerles la historia?

R. Sí, y claro que pensamos que era una broma. Primero, porque es un icono en Inglaterra, y segundo, porque cuando le devolví la llamada nunca logré la conexión. Un año más tarde aparecieron dos productores franceses que me aseguraron que era cierto.

P. Tras conocer y trabajar con Cantona, ¿qué le ha sorprendido de la estrella francesa?

R. Más que sorprenderme, me agradó ver que es un hombre educado, agradecido, su personalidad está muy reflejada en el filme. No es el tipo agresivo que recordamos del fútbol, sino que en realidad es muy calmado y feliz por el amor que recibe de la gente. Es tan bueno como persona como te podías esperar. No decepciona como otras figuras, que vas a conocerlas ilusionadas y te llevas un chasco. Eric Cantona es único, no podíamos hacer este filme con otra persona.

P. Ha sido su primer rodaje con paparazzi cerca.

R. Molestaban un poco al principio de cada jornada. Pero no fue una gran molestia, hacía sus fotos y se iban. Tampoco aumentó mucho el tamaño del equipo. Sí cambió cuando filmamos en la calle, pero Eric firmaba algunos autógrafos y la cosa se calmaba.

P. ¿Es cierto que en el primer plano que tienen juntos el cartero [Steve Evets] y Cantona, usted escondió a Cantona hasta que dijo acción, para sorprender al actor? Es cinema verité un poco salvaje.

R. Sí, pero funcionó [risas]. Su sorpresa es real y su estómago brincó. Le escondimos detrás de una pantalla negra. Lo más curioso es que Cantona es muy grande; la habitación, muy pequeña y no lo pilló. Le dijimos a Steve que saliera un momento de la habitación para cambiar las luces, pusimos a Eric detrás de la pantalla, Steve volvió y ¡acción! Eso dio realidad a la toma.

P. En su filme habla de nuevo de la amistad masculina, una constante en su carrera.

R. Me interesa mucho la hermandad que surge entre la gente que trabaja junta. En Inglaterra esas amistades se basan en el humor, en reírse mucho de sí mismos, de ponerse apodos, y burlarte de tus debilidades. Aquí pasará igual, ¿no?

P. Aquí nos reímos poco de nosotros mismos.

R. Pues en Inglaterra el cimiento es la risa, la coña burlona.

P. Es usted un cineasta de éxito en España. ¿Aún le sorprende?

R. Muchísimo, y toco madera porque siga así [y lo hace] y se repita. Es muy difícil entenderlo. Cuando ruedas lo haces con un grupo pequeño, que podrá o no opinar en la filmación... y meses después alguien ha visto tu trabajo doblado en otro idioma y te lo agradece. Es asombroso.

P. ¿No se siente sólo haciendo este tipo de películas?

R. No, es muy, muy... Mira, llevo tantos años trabajando que he estado de moda y he dejado de estarlo ya tres o cuatro veces. Y no sé cuándo o por qué me va a pasar de nuevo.

P. Su nuevo trabajo, Route Irish, es meterse en otro jaleo. De telón de fondo está la guerra de Irak

R. Tanto Paul como yo pensábamos que teníamos algo que decir y que había múltiples historias en la guerra. Acabo de finalizar el rodaje. Veremos cómo queda. Cruzo los dedos. Espero que sea al menos sorprendente.

Gregorio Belinchón, El Pais, 27.11.09

http://www.elpais.com/articulo/cultura/Cantona/tipo/agresivo/recordamos/elpepudep/20091127elpepucul_4/Tes

Dubai was the poster child of the economic boom: a world of unimaginable luxury, impossibly tall towers, and islands shaped like palm trees. This week it became the epitome of recessionary bust.

Global stock markets were left reeling yesterday after the city-state's spectacularly debt-ridden Dubai World holding company asked for an extra six months to pay the $4bn (£2.4bn) chunk due next month. In London, the stock market dropped by 3 per cent, its worst day since March. The French and German markets fared little better, and America's Dow Jones was only saved by being closed for Thanksgiving. Even sterling wavered, falling to its lowest rate against the euro for a month. But it was Britain's battered banks that were the worst affected. Fears over the extent of their exposure to Dubai's $80bn debt knocked nearly £14bn off their value by the end of the day.

The Gulf emirate's financial problems come as no surprise. It has already been bailed out to the tune of $10bn by fellow United Arab Emirates (UAE) member Abu Dhabi, and it had managed to scrape together another $5bn from two Abu Dhabi banks hours before the request for a "standstill agreement" to give Dubai World time to "restructure" itself. But global financial confidence is only just starting to recover from last year's banking crisis. And it is not yet known how much is at risk, and where.

By yesterday lunchtime, Europe's financial markets were awash with rumours about which banks are the most in danger from the Dubai debt and what the implications might be. But while estimates of European institutions' exposure gyrated from $13bn to $40bn, there was widespread agreement that the British are the most exposed. "Everybody is looking at who is affected the most and the UK banks are standing in the front line," Shahin Vallée, BNP Paribas's head of Middle East strategy, said.

Nobody expects Dubai to default on its debt, and there is little immediate danger for the state's holdings abroad. But the shock has real financial repercussions, and even if Abu Dhabi does step in with more funding, Dubai World's reorganisation will cost its creditors money. Beyond that, the bigger danger is the blow to global economic confidence, not least because no one knows the scale of the problem. "There are layers of cloud and uncertainty," Mr Vallée said. "Dubai World is not a company, it is a conglomerate with very limited corporate governance and financial transparency so no one knows what its assets are or what the real debt is." The danger is that the crisis stamps out the signs of life helping lift the world's economies out of recession. "The consequences could be to slow down global capital flows again because banks are reluctant to stretch their balance sheets," Mr Vallée said.

For Dubai itself, the money may prove to be the least of the problem. Until now, the Dubai experiment began in the 1950s by Sheikh Rashid, the father of the current ruler, has been an incredible success story. The revenues from the state's minimal oil revenues were initially used to turn it into a major regional trading hub and before long most of all the goods flowing into the Arabian peninsula were going through Dubai. When Sheikh Mohamed, the present incumbent, decided to take the scheme a step further and turn the city into a financial centre and global tourist destination, Dubai hit the big league. Vast amounts of money were spent on property, infrastructure and tax breaks to turn it into the playground of the rich and famous. Such was its success in luring buyers from around that world that between 2003 and 2007 property prices in some parts of the city quadrupled. There seemed to be no limit to the luxury: the opening night of the Palm Island's Atlantis Hotel cost a whopping $20m and included a set from Kylie Minogue and $1m of fireworks.

But the key to the metamorphosis was image, and all the growth was built on debt. "Brand Dubai is not just sun, sea, sand and luxury, it is that everything is possible, the sky is the limit," Professor Gerd Nonneman, a Middle East expert at Exeter University said. "It was a cycle: the brand brought in buyers, which pushed up prices further."

By the end of last year, with property prices slumping by up to 70 per cent, development stalled, plans for the third Palm Island were scaled back, plans for a tower a mile high were cancelled, and more than 400 projects with a total value topping $300bn were put on ice.

On the ground, the congestion which plagued the city has eased as tens of thousands quit after losing their lucrative jobs. The bars in Dubai's luxury hotels still buzz with weekend revellers, but the teeming crowds which once flocked to popular nightspots such as Left Bank in the sprawling Madinat Jumeirah hotel complex have become noticeable by their absence. The property sector, once the lifeblood of the Dubai expatriate workforce, is now shattered, with thousands laid off. Architects, estate agents and construction staff have vanished after building projects ground to a halt. Dubizzle, a local website similarto eBay, has been flooded with adverts from people selling.

But a charm offensive from Sheikh Mohamed had just about held world opinion together. And even this time, Abu Dhabi will not let Dubai drown. "Though there is rivalry between the two ruling families, is it important for Abu Dhabi that people in the outside world don't get the impression that the UAE is a busted flush," Professor Nonneman said. The balance of power in the UAE must shift as Abu Dhabi extracts what political capital it can from its injections of cash he thinks. And the debacle will tarnish the gilded image that was the bedrock of Dubai's success. "It has taken decades to build up 'Brand Dubai' and this is a spectacular blow."

Sarah Arnott, The Independent, 27.11.09

http://www.independent.co.uk/news/business/news/dubai-debt-shock-knocks-16314bn-off-bank-shares-1828752.html

El clero católico de Irlanda abusó de niños y lo hizo en connivencia con el Estado. Medio año después de que se divulgaran terribles pormenores sobre agresiones sexuales a menores en las escuelas, un nuevo informe oficial, que abarca el periodo comprendido entre 1975 y 2004, revela este contubernio entre la jerarquía eclesiástica y las autoridades del Estado, incluidas la fiscalía y la policía. El ministro de Justicia irlandés, Dermot Ahern, admitió ayer que las propias autoridades facilitaron el encubrimiento de los casos para proteger a los curas pederastas. De la investigación se desprende que la Iglesia antepuso la defensa de su reputación a la protección de niños vulnerables que estaban a su cuidado.

El documento presentado por Ahern se centra en las alegaciones de abusos contra 46 sacerdotes de la archidiócesis de Dublín. La jerarquía católica encubrió sistemáticamente las denuncias para eludir el escándalo, y para ello contó con el apoyo del establishment irlandés y de su atávico servilismo hacia la Iglesia. En lugar de informar a las autoridades sobre las denuncias de tremendas agresiones, los superiores de esos sacerdotes optaban por trasladarlos de parroquia en parroquia, donde acababan hallando a nuevas e inocentes víctimas. Aunque el informe exime de responsabilidades al actual arzobispo de Dublín, Diarmuid Martin, sí apunta directamente a la responsabilidad de varios de sus antecesores, entre ellos, los prelados John Charles McQuaid, Dermot Ryan y Kevin Mcnamara, los tres ya fallecidos. También implica a Desmond Conell, hoy retirado, quien no permitió hasta finales de 1995 que se canalizaran las denuncias contra 17 sacerdotes, si bien las reiteradas quejas recibidas afectaban entonces al menos a 28 clérigos de su diócesis.

Ilustrativa de la participación policial en el encubrimiento es la historia de un pequeño de 11 años objeto de abusos. Un sacerdote acudió a denunciar las agresiones sufridas por Andrew, pero los agentes, en lugar de emprender una investigación, plantearon el asunto ante la jerarquía eclesiástica, lo que supuso el punto final del caso. El ministro Ahern reconoció ayer que "en algunos casos, y debido a acciones u omisiones, algunas personas que buscaron ayuda no siempre recibieron el nivel de respuesta y protección que debió garantizarles la An Garda Siochána (policía de Irlanda)".

La indignación que ha suscitado el Informe de la Comisión de Investigación sobre la Archidiócesis Católica de Dublín obedece primordialmente a la participación de los poderes públicos en un sistema que buscaba proteger a la Iglesia por encima de todo. Los irlandeses ya habían asistido con horror al relato sobre los abusos sexuales de sacerdotes a menores, recogido en un documento que vio la luz el pasado mayo. El Informe Ryan, elaborado por la comisión investigadora de abusos a menores, es un catálogo de sistemáticas tropelías, de agresiones físicas y verbales cometidas por sacerdotes, monjas y personal seglar a lo largo de más de 60 años. Una pesadilla que afectó a miles de niños y que tuvo su escenario en instituciones estatales gestionadas por la Iglesia. La congregación de los Hermanos Cristianos, responsable de gestionar esos centros, ya ha prometido desembolsar 161 millones de euros en concepto de reparación.

El responsable de la cartera de Justicia ha animado a quienes conozcan más casos de esa naturaleza a que acudan a la policía para que "los agresores puedan ser llevados ante la justicia". El informe no recoge los nombres de las víctimas ni de los agresores para no invalidar futuros procesos.

El ministro tuvo que disculparse en nombre del Estado por su inacción o directamente complicidad, aunque insistió en que la cruda realidad que reflejan sus 700 páginas no debería ensombrecer "el trabajo de miles de sacerdotes honrados", empezando por aquellos que persiguieron e intentaron denunciar tales abusos.

Patricia Tubella, El Pais, 27.11.09

http://www.elpais.com/articulo/sociedad/Irlanda/conocia/abusos/sexuales/clero/ninos/elpepusoc/20091127elpepisoc_7/Tes

Paul Gascoigne has said he owes former teammate Peter Beardsley for helping him fight back from alcoholism and depression.

Beardsley has been keeping his fridge stocked and has invited the former England hero to training sessions at Newcastle United's youth academy.

Gascoigne said being involved in the routine of daily training had given him a new lease of life.

He was speaking at Wembley, where the pair were supporting Newcastle and Gateshead's joint bid to be host cities if England stages the 2018 World Cup.

He told The Journal, in Newcastle: "I'm really well. I'm training at the academy with the kids. Peter comes and picks me up. It's nice getting involved and getting training again.

"I'm just enjoying playing football and enjoying every game. I'm keeping myself busy and Peter has been fantastic.

"He has made sure I am OK and makes sure I have got bread and milk in the fridge. Hopefully, I'll progress doing my coaching badges."

Beardsley said Gazza deserved all the credit for his recovery.

Having the football hero, who played at Newcastle, Spurs, Lazio, Rangers, Middlesbrough and in China, at the club had delighted the academy trainees, he said.

Hugh Macknight, The Independent, 27.11.09

http://www.independent.co.uk/news/people/news/paul-gascoigne-credits-peter-beardsley--for-his-recovery-1829188.html

Le texte, examiné à huis clos par le Conseil de sécurité, mercredi 25 novembre, n'a pas été rendu public. Selon une copie dont Le Monde a possession, il montre l'étendue du réseau à l'étranger de la rébellion hutue rwandaise. Celle-ci a été créée autour d'un noyau de miliciens et d'ex-soldats impliqués dans le génocide rwandais de 1994. Avec le temps, ces "génocidaires" ont été rejoints par de nouvelles recrues dans l'est de la RDC, où ils ont longtemps opéré.

Parallèlement, les FDLR se sont dotés à l'étranger d'une structure politique "propre" (non impliquée dans le génocide), de réseaux de soutien et de financement dans une vingtaine de pays décrits par les experts mandatés par les Nations unies.

Le rapport établit les liens entre la structure militaire des FDLR et ses responsables politiques installés en Europe et aux Etats-Unis. Des factions dissidentes de la rébellion hutue, comme le RUD Urunana, sont dans le même cas, selon les auteurs du rapport qui concluent que, "sans ce soutien extérieur, les opérations des FDLR, du RUD Urunana sur le terrain seraient considérablement entravées".

ATTAQUES CONTRE LES CIVILS

Les experts des Nations unies ont pu retracer les virements et les communications téléphoniques qui permettaient à la direction des FDLR de se livrer à des achats d'armes, mais aussi d'intervenir dans la stratégie militaire. Ainsi, une conversation rapportée dans le texte surprend l'un des ordres émanant d'un haut commandement à un responsable local lui enjoignant d'"attaquer des civils et des hôpitaux", une trace corroborée par d'autres témoignages de la volonté d'instaurer la terreur pour des motifs politiques.

Plusieurs hauts responsables des FDLR basés en France, dont Callixte Mbarushimana, le secrétaire exécutif du mouvement, n'ont pas été inquiétés. En revanche, le chef des FDLR, Ignace Murwanashyaka, et son adjoint, Straton Musoni, ont été arrêtés le 17 novembre en Allemagne, où ils devraient répondre d'accusations de "crimes contre l'humanité ".

Depuis janvier, les attaques contre les civils ont augmenté. Cette période correspond à deux opérations successives contre les FDLR, menées par l'armée rwandaise et ses alliés locaux, puis par l'armée congolaise avec le soutien de la Mission de l'ONU au Congo, la Monuc.

Cette seconde phase, "Kimia II", est un échec, analysent les auteurs du rapport. Au cours de cette période les FDLR n'ont pas été neutralisés et l'extraction illégale de minerais dans l'est du Congo a fait un bond. Les rebelles exportent notamment de grandes quantités d'or à travers l'Ouganda, la Tanzanie et le Burundi, démontrent les experts des Nations unies, dégageant des "millions de dollars qui vont directement remplir les coffres des FDLR". Les minerais sont exportés vers de nombreuses destinations. On trouve, par exemple, une compagnie basée aux îles Samoa, acheminant du minerai à Hongkong.

Autre dimension du réseau des FDLR, celui du recrutement et du trafic d'armes, qui impliqueraient des responsables politiques ou des agences de renseignement au Burundi et en Tanzanie. L'enquête des experts leur permet d'établir que des responsables militaires congolais continuent aussi d'apporter un soutien "résiduel mais significatif" aux rebelles hutu.

Chaque camp, à cet égard, mène souvent un double jeu, sur fond de pillage généralisé des ressources minières par les rébellions et les pays de la région. Le rapport décrit comment une opération conjointe de l'armée rwandaise de la rébellion tutsie, le CNDP, dont l'objectif devait être de combattre les rebelles hutus, s'est accompagnée en janvier de campagnes pour vider de leurs habitants certaines zones près de Walikale, pour y installer les rebelles alliés de Kigali dans une zone particulièrement riche en cassitérite, un minerai servant à la fabrication de l'étain.