During August, the Marmot came out of his hole and visited the remnants of Japanese colonial architecture in Gunsan, Korea, adding enough photos and commentary to overload his host provider.
Meanwhile, the Mutant Frog Travelogue visited the foreigners’ cemetery in Hakodate, Japan, one of the first treaty ports opened to foreign trade after Commodore Perry broke a hole in the Tokugawa fence against the outside world.
Filed under Korea
Virtually all reports by NGOs [with human rights agendas] are catalogues of cruelties and abuses by governments, and their central campaigning method has been to publish reports that generate press coverage and place international attention on stigmatised governments. The NGOs campaigning against non-Western [and Western] governments see their work as non-political, they just describe abuses and ask the international community to act. In this way, they present human rights as independent of the social, economic or political situation. Many NGOs are concerned that explaining why abuses occur may justify them or give credence to the claims of repressive regimes. If mitigating factors were to be brought into the account this would undermine the mission of seeking immediate compliance with human rights standards. Pressure is brought about by utilising key events or symbols such as a highly publicised massacre, like Srebrenica, or a ‘poster child’ to simplify complex issues for mass audiences.
This association of ethical human rights policies with the denunciation of the crimes or abuses of governments has led to a particularly one-sided perspective focusing on condemnation and punishment. It is assumed that the more ‘ethical’ the government or NGO group is the more forceful will be their calls for sanctions or other forms of punishment. In this respect the human rights campaigners distinguish themselves from the international agencies involved in democracy promotion and democratisation, which tend to see a long process of constructive assistance for reforms as necessary. There is little evidence that condemnation and coercion is a more effective policy option than co-operation. Jeffrey Garten in Foreign Policy asks if human rights activists would deny that US trade links and commercial investment in states like China, India, Indonesia and Brazil have contributed to improved economic opportunities, communication freedoms and better education, health and working conditions. He makes a strong case that ‘the criteria for promoting human rights ought to be not what salves our consciences, but rather what works’. However, the pragmatic ‘what works’ approach seems to be noticeable by its absence in the human rights NGOs’ concern to denounce foreign governments and promote ethical coercion…. Most high-profile human rights actions have involved selective condemnations, sanctions and military intervention; the policies of economic integration and aid have, in fact, suffered and are often seen as inimical to human rights promotion.
Unfortunately, the NGO approach of seeking ‘worst cases’ to highlight their work, through mounting a populist campaign of condemnation, has been willingly followed by Western [and non-Western] governments.
SOURCE: From Kosovo to Kabul and Beyond: Human Rights and International Intervention, new ed., by David Chandler (Pluto Press, 2006), pp. 66-67 [reference citations removed]
A LEVEE IS NOTHING MORE than earth mounded into a hill to contain water. Babylonians leveed the Euphrates. Rome leveed the Tiber and Po. By 1700 the Danube, the Rhone, the Rhine, the Volga, and other European rivers had levees, while Holland made the most extensive use of them (a levee and a dike are the same thing).
The Mississippi creates natural levees. When the river overflows, it deposits the heaviest sediment first, thus building up the land closest to the river. Generally, these natural levees extend for half a mile to a mile from the riverbank. “Bottomlands” farther away are lower and often marsh and swamp. New Orleans was founded on a natural levee, and its French Quarter is the highest ground in the region. By 1726, artificial levees with a height ranging from four to six feet also protected the city.
But levee building never stopped; levees were extended above and below New Orleans, then to the opposite bank. Those levees increased the pressure on old ones. The reason is simple: when the river was leveed on only one bank, in flood it simply overflowed the opposite bank. But with both banks leveed, the river could not spread out. Therefore, it rose up. Thus the levees, by holding the water in, forced the river higher. In turn, men tried to contain the flood height by building levees still higher. By 1812, levees in Louisiana began just below New Orleans and extended 155 miles north on the east bank of the river and 180 miles on the west bank. By 1858, levees on the two sides of the river totaled well over 1,000 miles.
In some stretches the levee rose to a height of 38 feet. These heights changed the equations of force along the river. Without levees, even a great flood—a great “high water”—meant only a gradual and gentle rising and spreading of water. But if a levee towering as high as a four-story building gave way, the river could explode upon the land with the power and suddenness of a dam bursting.
From the first, some critics argued that building the levees higher simply increased the dangers should a crevasse, or levee break, occur, and insisted that a means to lower flood heights be used in conjunction with levees. There were three main ways to lower the flood level. One was to build reservoirs on tributaries to withhold water from the Mississippi during floods. A second was to cut a line through the sharp S curves of the river; these cutoffs would move the water in a shorter and straighter line, increase its slope, and hence its speed (a book arguing for cutoffs would later be titled Speeding Floods to the Sea). A third way was to let water escape from the river through outlets. All three proposals had detractors, but outlets had the most—because it also had the most advocates.
As early as 1816, proposals were made to create artificial outlets, also called spillways or waste weirs, on the east bank of the Mississippi near New Orleans. One proposal called for a spillway above the city to drain Mississippi floodwater into Lake Pontchartrain, while another called for one below the city to drain into Lake Borgne. Both “lakes” are really more akin to saltwater bays and empty into the sea, and at the proposed sites the river flowed within five miles of them.
Simple logic drove the argument for outlets. Removing water from the river would lower flood levels, proponents of the scheme insisted, just as removing the plug in a bathtub lowered the water level there.
Critics of outlets who instead insisted upon levees, and levees only—it soon became known as the “levees-only” position—generally subscribed to an engineering theory developed from observations of the Po made by the seventeenth-century Italian engineer Guglielmini. Guglielmini argued that alluvial rivers, like the Mississippi, always carried the maximum amount of sediment possible, and that the faster the current, the more sediment the river had to carry. His hypothesis further argued that increasing the volume of water in the river also increased the velocity of the current, thus compelling the river to pick up more sediment. The main source for this sediment had to be the riverbed, so confining the river and increasing the current forced a scouring and deepening of the bottom. In effect, adherents of this theory argued, levees would transform the river into a machine that dredges its own bottom, thus allowing it to carry more water without overflowing.
Levees-only advocates argued that outlets, by allowing water to escape from the river, were counterproductive since they removed volume from the river, lowered the slope, and caused the current velocity to slow. This not only prevented the current from scouring out the bottom, but actually caused the deposit of sediment—thus raising the bottom and in turn the flood height. According to the levees-only theory, using outlets was like taking water out of a bathtub, then dumping so much gravel into it that the tub ended up holding less water. The levees-only hypothesis argued that outlets, rather than lowering the flood height, would actually raise it.
SOURCE: Rising Tide: The Great Mississippi Flood of 1927 and How It Changed America, by John M. Barry (Touchstone, 1998), pp. 40-41 (reviewed here)
Filed under U.S.
Nicole Gelinas, writing in the 28 August 2006 issue of City Journal, says the Katrina flooding was, above all, a failure of engineering and infrastructure.
Katrina was the biggest test of the 350 miles of levees and floodwalls that the Corps built and refurbished over the past 40 years–and the system crashed, buckling under 50 major breaks and spilling millions of gallons of water into the city. And Katrina was far from a worst-case scenario.
The Corps’ post-mortem of Katrina tells the story: “the system did not perform as a system,” its engineers concluded. “The hurricane protection in New Orleans … was a system in name only…. The majority, approximately two-thirds by volume, of the flooding and half of the economic losses can be attributed to water flowing through breaches in floodwalls and levees.” The failures weren’t due to construction malfeasance or incompetence: “the system was built as designed,” the Corps concluded. But the system was, in many ways, conceived to fail. In the Corps’ view, it was inconsistently designed and lacked redundancy–that is, back-up protections.
Some levees, in particular the massive earthen fortresses with wide foundations, performed well, withstanding days of water pressure with little erosion. But floodwalls designed as narrow vertical walls driven into the ground–they look like the walls built on highways to block out the noise–performed abysmally.
First, some walls had sunk up to three feet lower than their original “authorized heights” before the storm. Second, the pressure of Katrina’s waters wore away the walls’ narrow vertical foundations because they weren’t “armored” with erosion-proof material, causing the structures to topple into the water. And because the system wasn’t redundant, each break caused additional weaknesses.
Why didn’t the Corps design a consistent, redundant system? In large part, the reason was foot dragging–or worse–by pols on the state, local, and federal levels. In some cases, political opposition prevented the Corps from seizing land to build sturdier foundations. Plus, Louisiana’s local levee boards were lousy stewards. Levee officials were political animals, not engineering experts, and sometimes proved more interested in running ancillary “economic development” projects than working with the Corps to make sure the levees were up to their task. (It’s not because New Orleans is poor and black: the levees protect New Orleans’s richer, whiter suburbs too.) In addition, the Corps warned that many of New Orleans’s manmade canals, obsolete for years, should be closed or at least gated–to no avail. Moreover, when the Corps, along with state officials, came to understand that wetlands restoration is a vital part of the flood protection system, not a tree-hugger’s afterthought, Congress balked at spending the required $14 billion over several decades for coastal restoration….
President Bush’s recent rhetoric thus doesn’t help New Orleans or the nation. He still talks as if poverty, and not inadequate design and investment in the plain, old, boring infrastructure that makes all cities work, was responsible for Katrina’s tragic devastation.
UPDATE: Nathanael of the always insightful Rhine River blog asks:
One question scholars have yet to answer: why can’t cities, as they did in the past, undertake the grand construction projects of this type? Is there something about the nature of the challenge, be it financial, legal, engineering, …, that not only makes the federal government better at these projects, but the only actor that can undertake them?
To shed a bit of light on this question, here’s a quote from John M. Barry’s Rising Tide, which I’ve been reading and excerpting:
For decades the increasingly populated states of the Mississippi valley had been demanding that the national government address navigation and flood problems on the Mississippi River. Conventions in Cincinnati in 1842, in Memphis in 1844, in Chicago in 1847 (where 16,000 delegates overwhelmed a city of 10,000) had pressured Washington to act. At last, to keep the West, the upper Mississippi valley, from forging a political alliance with the South and spurred on by a flood in 1849 that inundated much of the lower Mississippi valley—including New Orleans itself—eastern politicians acceded to the demands, and Congress ceded millions of acres of federally owned “swamp and overflowed lands” to the states. (Footnote: Louisiana received 9.5 million acres, Arkansas 7.7 million, Missouri 3.4 million, and Mississippi 3.3 million.) The states were to sell the land and spend the proceeds on flood control.
When states fall down on the job, as they did in 1927 (and 2005), the Feds are the saviors of last resort. (In failed states, international institutions are the saviors of last resort.)
Filed under U.S.
Until the 1830s, West Point dominated American engineering. West Point offered the only academic training in the field in America, and Army engineers were a true elite. Only the top cadets of each West Point class were allowed to enter the Corps of Engineers, while only the top eight cadets in each class could enter the separate Corps of Topographical Engineers….
But these few could hardly supply the nation’s needs. Engineers who left the Army were besieged with job offers, and a civilian profession was developing through apprentice programs, especially on the Erie Canal. In 1835, Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute first granted a degree in engineering. By 1850 so did Michigan, Harvard, Yale, Union, and Dartmouth. Meanwhile, technical knowledge was advancing at an exponential rate, and civilian engineers began denigrating their military counterparts for their rigid and dated training.
SOURCE: Rising Tide: The Great Mississippi Flood of 1927 and How It Changed America, by John M. Barry (Touchstone, 1998), pp. 35-36 (reviewed here)
While North American weather report have been tracking Hurricane Ernesto on the Atlantic side and Hurricane John on the Pacific coast, they have largely ignored John’s much stronger Central Pacific cousin Ioke, who graduated to Super Typhoon after passing the International Date Line and forced the total evacuation of Wake Island on the way toward Japan. As Monday’s Pacific edition of the Stars and Stripes reports:
At 6 p.m. Saturday, Ioke was 1,350 miles east-southeast of Tokyo, moving west-northwest at 17 mph, packing sustained winds of 127 mph and gusts of up to 155 at its center. If it remains on its forecast track, Ioke will pass 130 miles east of Yokosuka Naval Base at 2 a.m. Thursday with sustained winds of 92 mph and gusts up to 104 at its center.
Most of the 188 evacuees from Wake are contract workers from Thailand who are spending a company-sponsored vacation on Oahu. An aerial survey over the weekend revealed no oil spills, but the Coast Guard has a team on the way to assess whether it’s safe for workers to return.
The atoll serves primarily as a fuel depot for military aircraft, and it did the same for trans-Pacific civilian flights before passenger jets came to dominate long-distance travel. I was on one such flight on Pan American World Airways during the summer of 1955 as my family returned from Japan for our first furlough. It was their first trip abroad for my three younger brothers, who were born in Japan.
My parents had arrived in Japan on 23 August 1950 aboard the U.S.S. President Cleveland out of San Francisco with about a dozen missionary couples, a half-dozen single women missionaries, and a half-dozen toddlers still learning to walk on that gently rolling ship. This was the largest cohort of new Southern Baptist missionaries ever to arrive in Japan at one time. I was one of the toddlers.
Pan American was keen to attract new types of passengers, including whole families, and not just individual business travellers.
In 1950, shortly after starting an around-the-world service and developing the concept of “economy class” passenger service, Pan American Airways, Inc. was renamed Pan American World Airways, Inc…. To compete with ocean liners, the airline offered first-class seats on such flights, and the style of flight crews became more formal. Instead of being leather-jacketed, silk-scarved airmail pilots, the crews of the “Clippers” wore naval-style uniforms and adopted a set procession when boarding the aircraft.
We were among the earliest missionary families to fly, instead of sail, back across the Pacific, and the crew treated us like royalty. They invited the two oldest boys into the cockpit, gave us sets of the little wings they wore on their uniforms, and bedded us down on the floor behind the last row of seats with a stack of American comic books to read. I only vaguely remember our refueling stops at Wake and Midway, but I remember eating too much ice cream in a pineapple boat during our longer stopover at Honolulu airport.
We must have read a lot of comic books during our furlough year, because the next summer, as our family of now seven—with a new baby sister in her basinette—drove all the way across the U.S. in our new ’56 Chevy sedan (with no air-conditioning), my father had to remind us to take our noses out of our comics and look out at “real” cowboy and Indian country in Colorado, New Mexico, and Arizona. In California, we boarded the U.S.S. President Wilson (taking our car aboard) for the trip back across the ocean to Japan.
Filed under Pacific
Both the ‘solidarity’ NGOs, with a deeper commitment to international involvement in conflict resolution, and the ‘developmental’ NGOs tended to portray the non-Western subject as incapable of self-government and in need of long-term external assistance.
This approach led relief agency guides to take visitors to the worst places, stressing the dependence of the people on outside support and making exaggerated dire predictions of the future. Journalists and media editors knew in advance what a ‘humanitarian story’ looked like. The overall plot has been characterised by Benthall as a moral ‘fairy story’. This ‘fairy story’ had three components, familiar because they are the essence of the human rights intervention ‘stories’ of the present. The first component was the hapless victim in distress. In the famine ‘fairy story’ this victim was always portrayed through film of the worst cases of child malnutrition in the worst feeding centres. In cases of civil conflict the victims were often war refugees who had been ‘ethnically cleansed’. The second component was the villain, the non-Western government or state authority [or Western government(s), surely, or capitalism in general], which had caused famine and poverty through its corruption or wrong spending policies, or had consciously embarked on a policy of genocide or mass repression. The third component in the humanitarian ‘fairy tale’ was the saviour, the aid agency, the international institution or even the journalists covering the story. The saviour was an external agency whose interests were seen to be inseparable from those of the deserving victim.
The search for victims has dominated media coverage of humanitarian crises [including every televised war]. The Kosovo crisis, for example, saw journalists ‘impatient to find a “good” story – i.e. a mass atrocity’. Many Western journalists were dispatched to Macedonia and Albania with the sole purpose of finding a rape victim. Benedicte Giaever of the OSCE was angered that ‘almost every journalist who came to see her asked one thing: could she give them a rape victim to interview’. This approach, which takes the humanitarian crisis out of a political context to tell a ‘fairy tale’ or moral story has been termed the ‘journalism of attachment’. This style of journalism has been forcefully criticised:
Far from raising public understanding of the horrors of war, their reports mystify what conflicts are really about. By abstracting acts of violence from any wider conflict over political aims, they remove any possibility of people seeing what caused the war. The result of imposing a ready-made Good v Evil framework on every situation is that conflicts can only be understood as the consequence of man’s atavistic, bestial urges. Instead of ‘humanising’ a war, this approach ultimately dehumanises all those involved.
Alex de Waal terms the outlook of the international humanitarian agencies, and the media promotion of their cause, ‘disaster tourism’; in humanitarian crises they selectively saw the worst and assumed the worst. The lack of knowledge of the severity of the famine, drought or civil conflict led to exaggerated predictions of the death toll, and, of course, the need for support for the agency’s declared rights-based humanitarian aims. The predominant approach of humanitarian interventionists to the conflicts in former Yugoslavia and Rwanda demonstrates the dangers inherent in this perspective. The humanitarian NGOs have explained the civil conflicts as the products of local circumstances, from which it can only be concluded that the people of these regions are uncivilised, prone to violent and savage ethnic passions or at the very least easily manipulated by government propaganda because they lack independent critical faculties.
SOURCE: From Kosovo to Kabul and Beyond: Human Rights and International Intervention, new ed., by David Chandler (Pluto Press, 2006), p. 36-37 [reference citations removed]
Filed under NGOs
In opposition to the development policies pursued by non-Western states, international NGOs focused on alternative grass-roots models of development. This approach is explained by David Korten, a former worker for the United States Agency for International Development:
The widespread belief that development is primarily a task of government has legitimised authoritarianism and created major barriers to true development progress in the [global] South and over the past four decades the people have been expected to put their faith and resources in the hands of government. In return governments have promised to bestow on the people the gift of development. This promise has proved a chimera born of a false assessment of the capacity of government and the nature of development itself.
As [global] Southern states were crippled by the debt crisis and later by the World Bank Structural Adjustment Programmes, state provision of welfare collapsed in many societies. International relief NGOs, with Western government funding, attempted to fill in the gaps. As two Oxfam workers explained:
Gallantly stepping into the breach come the NGOs very much in the neo-colonial role. Whole districts, or once functioning sections of government ministries, are handed over to foreigners to run especially in health or social services. This process is enhanced as Structural Adjustment Programmes bite even deeper … 40 percent of Kenya’s health requirements are now provided by NGOs … The more the NGOs are prepared to move in the easier it is for government to reduce support.
SOURCE: From Kosovo to Kabul and Beyond: Human Rights and International Intervention, new ed., by David Chandler (Pluto Press, 2006), p. 33 [reference citations removed]
Today’s NGO employees are the direct inheritors of the colonial project not so much in the manner of the imperial civil services as in the manner of the religious missionaries, who were often at odds with the imperial powers in their respective mission fields, and who often provided a good measure of whatever health, education, and welfare services governments failed to provide. The religious missionaries of my parents’ (“greatest”) generation were succeeded by the secular missionaries of my (“boomer”) Peace Corps generation and the current horde of NGOptimists all over the globe—all of whom have gone to do good, and many of whom have done rather well indeed, just like the older missionary elites (or nouveaux évolués), whose offspring often ended up as area specialists in government or academia (or both). On this score, I know very well whereof I speak.
The strongest critique of needs-based humanitarian action is from the human rights movement itself, which argues that responding to crises by sending humanitarian relief is merely an excuse to avoid ‘more vigorous responses’. Humanitarian relief is increasingly seen as giving Western governments the appearance of ‘doing something’ in the face of a tragedy while providing an alibi to avoid making a riskier political or military commitment that could address the ‘roots of a crisis’. Under the cry that humanitarianism should not be used as a substitute for political or military action, they are in fact arguing for a new rights-based ‘military humanitarianism’. As journalist David Rieff notes: ‘humanitarian relief organizations … have become some of the most fervent interventionists’.
The rights-based critique of humanitarianism provided the military in Western states with the opportunity to portray their actions as increasingly ethical in the 1990s. Ironically, this occurred at the same time as armed interventions moved away from the UN Blue Helmet approach that overlapped with the humanitarian principles of neutrality, impartiality and consent. As Michael Pugh observes, ‘military humanism’ is no longer an oxymoron because military action has increasingly been justified through defending human rights goals. From the perspective of the military establishment, this new role is important and the cultures of the military and the human rights activist are increasingly being brought together through the idea of helping the ‘victim’, as can be seen from recruitment advertising in Britain and the United States. The humanitarian motives for military action have been so heavily stressed that some critics have warned that the British Army is in danger of being flaunted as ‘the military wing of Oxfam’.
SOURCE: From Kosovo to Kabul and Beyond: Human Rights and International Intervention, new ed., by David Chandler (Pluto Press, 2006), pp. 48-49 [reference citations removed]
Well, sure, but the Atlantic slave trade could not have been suppressed without the intervention of the British Navy. Nor could slavery have been suppressed in the United States without the intervention of the U.S. Army (against whom my own ancestors fought). Would selective, righteous boycotts of rum, sugar, molasses, tobacco, and cotton have been as fast and effective? The Royal Navy and the U.S. Army both served as the “military wings” of abolitionists.
Filed under NGOs
Putzi was the Nazi movement’s only Harvard man. Though a figure of fun among the more hard-core Nazis—Putzi played “Sam” to Hitler’s Bogart, entertaining him at the end of the day with his piano playing—he was instrumental in making Nazism salonfähig, or “presentable to society,” the upper classes who were a crucial source of funds for a party founded by a locksmith and led by a former army corporal. Hitler used Hanfstaengl’s affable nature and white-shoe pedigree to forge many of his important links to German and American rich people. While the Baltic Germans provided access to the Russian aristocracy, Putzi was the connection to old American, British, and German families. His mother was a Sedgwick, from the old New England family. (Two of his grandfathers had been Civil War generals; one of them, a German immigrant 48er, was a pallbearer at Abraham Lincoln’s funeral.) His full name was Ernst Sedgwick Hanfstaengl. The name Putzi, which means “little squirt” in the Bavarian dialect, was given to him by his wet nurse. His father was one of the most prominent men in Munich in the late nineteenth century, and the Hanfstaengls had visitors such as Mark Twain, Richard Strauss, and Fridtjof Nansen, the famous arctic explorer and passport inventor, to their lavish villa. How on earth had this white-shoe boy gotten involved with a bunch of lower class, anti-Semite beer-hall politicians?
In 1908 Putzi had taken part in an Orientalist cross-dressing show at Harvard’s Hasty Pudding Club. For this show, called Fate Fakir, the WASP Harvard boys “cross-dressed” in two ways, some dressing up as girls and others as Hindu and Muslim fakirs. The hulking six-foot-five Ernst Sedgwick Hanfstaengl played a Dutch girl named Gretchen Spootsfeiffer. With him in the cast was a young man named Warren Robbins. Putzi and Warren went their separate ways after Harvard, one returning to Bavaria to serve in the Royal Bavarian Horse Guards and the other to join the American State Department. In 1922, when Robbins was working as a senior officer at the American embassy in Berlin, he called up his old chum “Gretchen” from the Pudding.
All the revolutionary nonsense down in Bavaria had the embassy concerned, Warren said, so they were sending down a young military attaché, Captain Truman-Smith, to have a look around. Would good old Gretchen mind taking care of the boy and introducing him to a few people in Munich? “He turned out to be a very pleasant young officer of about thirty, a Yale man, but in spite of that I was nice to him,” Putzi wrote in his 1957 memoir, Unheard Witness, and recalled his fateful lunch with the Yalie on the last day of his visit to Bavaria. The American had been interviewing anyone who was anyone in Munich, [and he gave Putzi a ticket to a talk that the American couldn’t attend]….
Putzi took the ticket and went to hear Hitler speak at the Kindlkeller that night. He remembered Hitler talking a lot about Kemal Ataturk in Turkey and the example of Mussolini. Putzi described the speech to the Yale man, as he’d promised, and then he joined the movement himself.
An inventive cheerleader for the Harvard football team, Putzi transferred that position to Hitler’s Nazi entourage. Among his many creative contributions to the early Nazi movement was turning the Harvard football song—”Fight Harvard! Fight! Fight! Fight!”—into the model for the chant “Sieg Heil! Sieg Heil! Sieg Heil!” of the Nazi mass meetings….
One of the many early Nazis who were slated to be done away with by Hitler’s inner circle in the 1930s, Hanfstaengl escaped assassination by fleeing to Switzerland, then on to London and Washington, where he eventually went to work for the OSS—but only after proving he was not a homosexual by resisting the advances of Somerset Maugham’s boyfriend, Gerald Haxton, who was apparently sent in by the Feds to see if Putzi could be seduced. When interviewed in the 1970s, Putzi rolled out all the piano tunes that Hitler had most enjoyed hearing him play—from the Harvard fight song to Wagner overtures—and complained how the Roosevelt administration had refused to take his advice on the invasion of Italy in 1943.
SOURCE: The Orientalist: Solving the Mystery of a Strange and Dangerous Life, by Tom Reiss (Random House, 2005), pp. 261-264
Filed under Turkey
Far Outliers 
