Man's status as an unwelcome guest on Planet Earth received further
confirmation this past week, as hurricane Katrina cut a swathe of death
and destruction across the southern United States.
No matter how big the bombs we build and however mighty the missiles we
manufacture, when it comes to dealing mega-death Mother Nature - also
called God - has us all licked.
Rank amateurs we are, depending on big machines and endless quantities of
high explosive to achieve our destructive aim; whereas it takes nature a
mere minute's tremble to raze cities to the ground or a thirty foot wave
travelling across an ocean to kill hundreds of thousands.
The idea that, in addition to all the built-in violence that Earth can
throw at us - earthquakes, floods, volcanic eruptions, tropical storms,
disease - we feel impelled to add a bit of our own is amazing. With such
an array of possibilities for horrible, premature death readily
available, why add more?
Also amazing is that Katrina was allowed to do what she did in the first
place. Hurricanes are a regular feature in that part of the world and
you'd expect that the richest, most technologically advanced nation in
the world could have done a bit more than cry "holy ****" and leg it for
the hills.
I've hardly recovered from the stunning sight of an astronaut repairing a
shuttle in space and now I'm confronted with the spectacle of obviously
substandard housing lying there, ripped to pieces like shoeboxes, old
cars floating down the streets, shops being looted and upwards of a
thousand people lying dead, creating a serious risk of pestilence.
I'm reminded of an earthquake that hit Japan just the other day; a quake
that caused minimal damage, in spite of its force. That's because the
Japanese have learned to build for earthquakes. What has kept the
Americans from constructing, in hurricane-prone areas, buildings that can
withstand the likes of Katrina?
The Dutch, after their terrifying experience of the February 1953 storms,
made sure that flooding and destruction on that scale would never happen
again by creating the greatest storm surge barrier in the world. They
called it the Delta project.
You'd think that it wouldn't be beyond the wit of the US authorities to
do something similar, but looking at the aerial photographs of southern
Mississippi and Louisiana you'd think you were gazing down on Nicaragua
or Honduras. A professor at Delft Polytechnic put it this way, "reducing
the threat [of hurricanes] should be quite feasible technically. It's
simply a matter of investing money."
Since when, in the world's largest economy, was money a problem?
There must be a reason for all this. The population of the stricken
region is largely poor and mainly black. Not the kind of people on whose
protection you'd spend a lot of money and effort, especially when that
money and effort can be spent more profitably elsewhere, as in Iraq.
New Orleans may be one of the great attractions of the Deep South,
especially on calm summer days as the black jazz bands can be heard in
every club in Basin Street and the Mardi Gras parades move rhythmically
down Bourbon Street, but its denizens are expendable.
Don't be surprised if the current problems stir up a racial resentment
that many had thought was a thing of the past. And as for money: cleaning
up the mess, restoring the infrastructure, rebuilding what has been
destroyed is going to cost America huge amounts of dollars over a very
long time. Adequate protection would have been a lot cheaper.
Meanwhile, the great and good are falling over themselves to express
their horror at the scope of a disaster they did nothing to prevent.
"Possibly the greatest natural disaster in our nation's history", the
always impeccably briefed George W. Bush called it. George W. Bush, you
will recall, spent the start of the New Orleans disaster, at a fund
raising even for the US Republican Party.
Louisiana State Governor Kathleen Blanco called the situation
'untenable' and 'heartbreaking' and went on advising people to spend last
Wednesday in prayer. "That would be the best thing to calm our spirits
and thank our Lord that we are survivors", she said with that arcane
logic that comes with deep religious faith, "slowly, gradually, we will
recover; we will survive; we will rebuild."
No kidding. How loud a chord her words struck with those still trapped in
their homes, or huddled together in the Superdome, or raiding the shelves
of shops on Canal Street, or wading through the flooded streets looking
for loved ones is hard to say.
I know it's probably unfair to criticize people for saying pointless
things in times of crisis, but who wants to be fair? However much I
sympathize with the dead, wounded, homeless and destitute of the southern
US seaboard, worse has happened in the world. Mayor A Holloway of Biloxi,
Mississippi, commented, "this is our tsunami."
No it isn't. It may be bad, certainly by American standards, but a
tsunami it isn't.
But even that ill-considered claim seems innocuous when compared with the
words of Mississippi State Governor Haley Barbour, after a quick fly-over
of the inundated region, "it's not a case of homes being severely
damaged", he said, "they're just not there. I can only imagine that this
is what Hiro****ma looked like 60 years ago."
Hiro****ma, eh? Isn't that the Japanese city that was incinerated by a
nuclear bomb in the space of a few seconds, with 120,000 people being
charred to a frazzle and many more dying of the effects of radiation in
the following years? Strange to think that, from only a few thousand feet
up, you can't tell the difference.
--
T Moore
N E Manchester, England
http://sitemenu.tom-moore.com/
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