Oklahoma City

The time is 09:02. The date is April 19th, 1995. In Oklahoma City, in the heart of America, a truck bomb detonated beneath an office building used by the federal government. A third of the building collapsed in the explosion. Among the 168 dead were 19 children; the bomb had been placed beneath the creche. It was then the largest terrorist attack in American history, and today has only been surpassed by the unparalleled September 11th attacks.

As the news of the carnage came in, many pointed to the Middle East. The attack had all the hallmarks of recent atrocities in Palestine and Lebanon. After all, it was Middle Eastern terrorists who had bombed the World Trade Centre in 1993. The US President, Bill Clinton, was urged to close down US airports, to stop those responsible from escaping the country. The biggest question was why on Earth these killers had travelled all the way to Oklahoma.

And then someone looked at the date. April 19th.

In 1993, federal law enforcement agents had got into a showdown with an extreme Christian cult in Waco, Texas. The cult leader, David Koresh, was amassing weapons for the end of the world, which he believed was soon. He was also accused of abusing the children in the compound; Koresh was practising polygamy. When law enforcement agents attempted to seize the weapons, the cultists fired on them. This led to a long stand-off between the FBI and those inside. With no end in sight, the FBI began to try and force their way in on April 19th, 1993. The building burnt down, set on fire by Koresh and his followers. 76 people burnt to death.

The Waco siege, along with another armed standoff at Ruby Ridge in 1992, became celebrated causes on the American right. Many saw the federal government as their enemy, and elements of the Christian right began to claim that the end of days would come in a conflict between citizens and the federal government. Fed by talk radio hosts, this toxic atmosphere fed into mainstream politics. In 1994, the Democrats were hammered at the midterm elections by the Republicans, who brought a hard-edged, obstructionist rightist politics into Washington DC. The federal government was blamed as the cause of all ills, and treated as beneath contempt.

One of those influenced by this tide of bile was Timothy McVeigh, an army veteran who had come to mistrust and hate the government. Driven by the chorus of voices claiming that something had to be done, McVeigh did just that, packing a truck full of explosives and fertilisers, and parking it underneath the Alfred Murrah building.

The person intent on bringing death and misery had not traveled 'all the way to Oklahoma.' He'd driven up the road.

What is the point of marking this anniversary? The Oklahoma City bombing stands as a warning to us all. When you create a toxic atmosphere by bashing others, whoever they may be, you bring a moment like this nearer. When you dehumanise people, you make it easier to justify extreme measures against them. When you issue a call for action, those who are troubled, disturbed, or full of anger and hatred may well respond to your calls. Last year, a Labour MP was shot dead in the streets of her own constituency, by a person with far-right views, who shouted "Britain First" as he carried out his attacks. The media and political screams of 'Take Back Control' during the EU referendum had played out in awful terms.

As we prepare to go through yet another fractious election campaign, remember that. Remember that words can have consequences. And sometimes those consequences can be utterly horrific.

If you want to find out more about the 1995 Oklahoma City bombing, I cannot recommend this documentary enough:

Another Election? We could try these instead...

As we're plunged back into the campaign trail, many in Britain are bemoaning that we're being asked to vote *again*. So, here is a whistle stop tour through history to see what some of our better alternatives have been...

Roman Empire

Back in the good old days, things were much easier. If you fancied having a stab at being emperor, you got your soldiers to proclaim you. Easy really.

I mean, there was then the small issue of then fighting off all the others who had done the same, and then holding power against all those who tried to do the same to you. But it was a very meritocratic system, and these days there is a lack of social mobility, so definitely something to consider.

Anglo-Saxon England

Two possible variations here. The Anglo-Saxon king of the English was semi-elective; in theory the Witan (the collection of powerful Earls and bishops who advised the king) could chose whoever they wanted to be king. In practice it was normally the son of the previous monarch. Not always the eldest son, mind you. Sometimes brothers got a look in, even when there were children still alive. Alfred the Great only became king of the West Saxons after three of his brothers had been king. Alfred's son, Edward the Elder, later had to see off a rebellion by his cousin, Æthelwold, who made a bid for power on Alfred's death in 899; Æthelwold used the fact that his father had been king before Alfred to legitimise his bid for power. Sons born to the sitting king often jumped the order of precedence over any children he'd had before he became king.

The elective nature of the Anglo-Saxon kingship is perhaps best seen in the crisis of 1066. Edward the Confessor died childless, and the nearest related member of the House of Cerdic was only a child. Instead, the Witan elected Harold Godwinson as king, off the back of his military and governing experience. The flaw in this system is also shown in 1066; once you've established the idea that anyone can become king, anyone can give it a shot. And so it was that William the Bastard, the Duke of Normandy and a distant relative of the Anglo-Saxon monarchy, launched a long shot bid for the throne. Harold Godwinson went down to defeat at Hastings, and the rest, as they say, was history.

The Holy Roman Empire

The Holy Roman Emperor was chosen by an electoral college, made up of three bishops and four princes. The winner (who was always magically the son of the previous Emperor) was then crowned by the Pope (until 1530, at any rate). An electorate of seven people is a hell of a lot easier to talk to directly, and the rest of us can get on with our lives without having to worry about all these important things. It'd certainly make political advertising much simpler.

But this was only from the late Middle Ages onwards. Charlemagne was crowned Emperor of the West by the Pope during Christmas Day Mass in 800, apparently without any warning. Still I reckon he'd have settled for a new jumper or something. Must have been pretty awkward, as I don't think he'd bought the Pope anything in return.

The first US Election

The framers of the US Constitution had a very clear idea of who the first president was going to be. Only George Washington could bridge the gaps between the various segments in American society that had emerged under the original system of government that had bumbled along since independence from Great Britain. And so once he agreed to have the job, the actual election was a formality. No one ran against him, any many states just nodded the approval through. Washington certainly didn't do anything as unseemly as campaigning for the job or anything. How times differ...

Modern Papal Elections

You lock 120 elderly men inside an art museum, and when 2/3 of them agree on a replacement, they start a fire to signal to the outside world they can be let out. But it's ok as the Holy Spirit keeps an eye on things.

No, really.

Shadowy Conspiracy Government

I am still wading my way through The X-Files. Every few episodes, there is a smoky, shadowy room shown. From this room, a cabal of rich men direct world affairs from behind the scenes. They alone know what is good for the world. The democratic facade they allow to continue is not that actually wields any power.

Now, leave aside how easy it would be to read some dreadful anti-Semitism into this. Or how quaint it is that these people rig elections with ease, but are seemingly incapable of finding Mulder at any given point without visiting Scully and asking her.

No, look at the world around you. Switch on the TV. Open the BBC News website. Does this look like a world that is being organised and planned?

Nope, didn't think so. I'd highly recommend Jon Ronson's book Them: Adventures with Extremists. You'll soon be worrying more about the people who believe this than those apparently running the show...

Which leaves...

There is an awful quotation, attributed to many of the usual suspects, that says that democracy is the worst form of government, apart from all the others we've tried. Well, perhaps.

And we have tried many others. Not just the weird and wonderful systems outlined above, but corrupt oligarchies, restricted democracies, and despotic dictatorships. None has served the common good well. None has benefitted ordinary men and women.

But government of the people, by the people, and for the people, as Abraham Lincoln really did say, ensures a say in the future by each and every one of us. Yes, we may be fed up of elections. Yes, we may be unsure of the ability of the individual to shape the process.

But unless you want you future determined by clerics, soldiers, people who claim they are gods, or David Icke's lizards, then you are stuck with democracy and elections. Make the most of it. Many of those who came before us weren't even given this tiny say in their futures.

Register, and wait for June 8th. Then go out and have your say. Because you're bloody lucky to have the chance to go and do so. Lizards or not.

Here We Go Again...

And today was supposed to be a productive day. I was going to do some marking, some planning, some cleaning.

And then Theresa May decided to go and ruin it by announcing that she was calling a general election for June 8th.

For those of us on the left, be it in the disintegrating Labour party, the shattered remains of the Liberal Democrats, the idealistic cocoon of the Greens, or floating somewhere in between, there can only be one reaction to this announcement:

The good news is that, unlike 2015, there won't be a shock outcome. Unlike 2010, there won't be a chance after the election to keep the Tories out. Even if the Lib Dems make gains (as predicted), the collapse of Labour will put Theresa May back into Number 10, possibly with a majority of over a hundred. Labour will almost certainly do worse than they did in 1983, under Michael Foot, when they slid to 209 MPs. They may even drop to the total that John Major got in 1997, 165 survivors of the Blair landslide. There are whispers they may go below that. 

If you care about progressive politics, or even having a functioning opposition to the government, this election could be a bleak milestone. Brexit aside, the vision that May has laid out in the last few months has been ugly and regressive. And it is about to be endorsed by millions.

I normally relish elections. They're what politics junkies live for. But not this one. I cannot see any light at the end of the tunnel. This is going to be a bloodbath. Let's get it over and done with.