A line in the sand

The sand on the cars was what set him thinking, the caller told Gerry Ryan yesterday

The sand on the cars was what set him thinking, the caller told Gerry Ryan yesterday. "We were talking about it over the weekend there at the Crumlin Sauna - where we solve the problems of the world - and we were wondering, if this sand can get here from wherever it came from, what about Saddam's chemicals from Iraq? If these weapons go off, will this stuff get here the same way?

"So I said" - the way you do - "I'll call Ryan on Monday morning."

Now I didn't listen long enough to hear if Ryan scared up some expert opinion on the matter, but Gerry was quite taken with the question. "Anthrax," he intoned, - this euphonious word is God's gift to panic radio, leaving "Scud" in the ha'penny place. "Would anthrax reach here? Would it maintain its virulence over those distances?" It's "only a hop", he assured the uncertain caller, from the Sahara to Iraq (anthrax obviously being a Olympic-calibre hopper). Back in 1990-91 the Gulf crisis had a ready-made Irish angle, in Shannon Airport. And our political culture was still geared for a reasonable level of critical debate about US and British foreign policy, which itself was still in obvious Reagan-Thatcher mode. This, however, is the best we can do in 1998: we can draw our own line in the sand, right along the car bonnet. Personally, I reckon Bill 'n' Tony are the two best reasons to confidently oppose a military attack; when Blair joined Clinton on his weekly American radio broadcast a couple of weeks back ("Now my pal Tony is gonna tell y'all why we need to barbeque Iraq . . .") the result was so cloying, so nauseating, that the Russians should play it in the General Assembly to bring any waverers round to their position. But I'm apparently in a small immune minority when it comes to these boys, and the fact that they are seen as joint sponsors of what's left of the Northern peace doesn't do them any harm here either.

As the US prepares to strike at Iraq, RTE's Washington correspondent follows the restricted terms of the American "debate", portraying Clinton as the dove who, by favouring a limited assault, is standing up to Republicans who want to "take out" Saddam.

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These are increasingly the poles, too, of British discussion of the topic. Last week BBC Radio 5 Live presented a positively bloodthirsty panel chat on its Newstalk, then brought us a mocking report about the "Labour luvvies", including Harold Pinter, who had met at Westminster to oppose any attack.

The honourable exception on the Irish airwaves has been Eamon Dunphy and his team, who on The Last Word (Today FM, Monday to Friday) actually seem to take seriously the idea of dissent. In recent weeks Robert Fisk has been providing regular information on this manufactured crisis, and last Friday's interview with journalist Patrick Cockburn, an expert on such military matters, was better yet. However, I'd be interested to hear more commentators - including Dunphy, who has been forecasting dreadful carnage in Iraq - look more closely at whether (as a pal of mine reckons) the coming attack will be principally a widely televised advert for the latest, "smart" military technology, including nifty thermal bombs (featured in expert commentary on Today with Pat Kenny) that kill anthrax and the like.

This time around, carpet bombing isn't "necessary". Isn't it most likely that Clinton will give the arms industry its footage, declare victory and get out?

It's highly depressing. Even Chumbawumba's smart-bomb for John Prescott was apparently in aid of every worthy cause except Iraq. Still, you wouldn't have seen even that if Nobacon had been sent to Double XXposure, the American "charm school" for rap and soul acts featured in Charm Offensive (BBC Radio 1, Sunday). These days, this highly sympathetic documentary told us, an artist can expect to meet the President of the United States; we couldn't have them making a show of themselves by not knowing which fork to use at dinner.

The "artist development" practised at Motown apparently looks mighty good in retrospect, in this era of the disposable act. It might seem tragic that black performers are being trained to charm the media and schmooze record-company executives - and even getting a bit of political re-education, it appears - but if it leaves them with a better chance of a lasting career and a few bob at the end of it, who can argue?