Monday, December 27, 2010

why you don't want american airport security to be more like israeli airport security

The TSA has been in the news a bit lately, what with their new naked-body-scan-or-groping policy, implemented just in time to be tested by on the bajillion people traveling over the holiday season.  The conspiracy-inclined might infer that the timing had little to do with actual threats of holiday-themed terrorism and everything to do with the fact that people are less likely to stick up for their civil liberties when airports are crowded and travelers are preoccupied with holiday stresses.

Then along comes this guy, an anonymous pilot who seems genuinely concerned about airline security, who points out some glaring and obvious security flaws at SFO.  Of course for doing this he had to be punished by the TSA.  But the real reason he's getting a security-state smackdown is not for posting potentially exploitable information on Youtube, but for reminding us that US airport security is a ludicrous dog-and-pony show.

Airport security in the US is mostly for show, and a little bit for profit.  Its primary purpose is to remind everyone flying on a plane to be scared of Terrorism, while making a big performance of examining your liquids and genitals, to promote the idea that the government is Doing Something about it.  Its secondary purpose is to serve as one of the leading edges of the security state, a mass social experiment in conformity, where Americans can practice quietly and uncomplainingly submitting to authority figures who do things like frisk small children.  And of course, the security industry is big big money for some people, like the companies who make those naked body scanners, who, you can bet, have friends and lobbyists in Washington.

In discussion of airport security and Doing Something About Terrorism, it's never too long before someone says the word "Israel."  Israelis, we are told, enjoy effective and efficient airport security despite the fact that their country is menaced by Terrorists all the time.  We should be doing it more like them.  Having recently flown out of Israel's Ben Gurion Airport, perhaps I can give you a picture of what Israeli security looks like up close.

There is a widely-believed myth that since Israel has spent more than sixty years waging a counterinsurgency campaign against the indigenous people they have dispossessed and held under military rule to create their country, Israelis must be really smart when it comes to anything involving security.  This is not actually true--although plenty of former Israeli soldiers and secret police officers have built profitable careers as "security experts" by claiming it is.  Israeli security personnel aren't smarter.  They're just more brazen and less apologetic about what they're doing.

The system of racial profiling at Ben Gurion Airport is so naked it makes the US's "random checks" look sophisticated and subtle by comparison.  Of the three people of color arriving with our Interfaith Peace-Builders delegation, all were tagged by security.  One was intercepted by a plainclothes officer as we left the jetway; the other two were flagged for interrogation at passport control, along with one white dude who made the mistake of visiting the Terrorist Nation of Sudan to work on a documentary film project.

Leaving the airport, there's a different routine (maybe to keep people on their toes?) that involves a number-based profiling system.  After a few initial questions at a security checkpoint outside the main terminal building, a profiler (yes, they call themselves that) slaps a little sticker on your passport and luggage, with a number from 1 to 6, which determines how much shit you have to go through before boarding your plane.  1 is safe (Israeli, Jewish, white); 6 is ZOMG TERRORIST (person of color; anyone looking remotely like they could be Arab or Muslim; "suspicious" internationals).  Yes, it's really that obvious.  No, I'm not making this up.

When I departed Israel via Ben Gurion Airport in August, I got a 5 at security on sight, just based on the fact that I was a young international traveling alone, without an obviously Jewish surname.  Once I got inside the terminal, the woman at the second security checkpoint ran my passport through their computers, at which point (I presume) some kind of security flag popped up, probably owing to the fact that I had been interrogated by Israeli security at a different border crossing a few days prior.  After running my name, Profiler #2 promptly upgraded me to a 6, the highest security threat.  I resigned myself to a strip-search and possibly more questioning.  As it turned out, I got away with "only" a closed-door pat-down with clothes on and a thorough bag search.  The security personnel I interacted with at the airport were not hostile and even seemed somewhat apologetic for the delay.  But far more aggressive treatment by Israeli security is commonplace if you're Palestinian, Arab or Muslim.  If anything, this just reveals the racism of the whole system.

Of course, this system is just as dumb as any other system of profiling you can come up with, because it relies on over-generalizations of "suspicious" behavior and persons--definitions which are of course written by the state based on its own prejudices.  This creates a circular logic as perfect as that found in any dictatorship.  You are suspicious because we define you as such.  I'd argue that the US has already gone pretty far down the road of Israelification, adopting practices of racial profiling that Israel has been deploying with impunity for decades.  In Israel we can see the grotesque spectacle of this system in its fully developed form.  It should be a cautionary tale, not an example to emulate.

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

blog identity crisis

I started Laura on the Left Coast in 2008 as I was planning to move across the country, from New York and the East Coast where I'd lived my whole life, to Los Angeles, a city I didn't even visit before being accepted to grad school there.  (Good thing too, or I might have gotten cold feet.)

If you'd asked me two and a half years ago, I would never have predicted the turns my life would take: life changes, renewed political involvement, travel to amazing places, and along the way an attempt at increasing self-definition as an artist.  As I've evolved, so has this blog.  It's been extremely helpful for working some of those things out, even if I didn't necessarily recognize the revelations in the moment.  It is valuable to me if only as a record of the evolution of my artistic and political thought over the past two and a half years.

The problem now is that I'm not entirely sure where to go.  My life is sort of undefined at the moment--and not in a carefree hippie way, or a filled-with-terrifying-but-exhilarating-possibilities way.  More in a morass-of-gnawing-uncertainty-and-economic-peril way.  As my work on the two projects I was lucky to be involved in right after graduation is coming to a close--at least for the moment--and I'm facing the prospect of looking for a real-person job in the worst economy since the Great Depression, with a hundred thousand dollars more debt that I had two years ago, I am most likely to be filled at any given moment with a vague sense of exhaustion and dread.  This makes it hard to focus on anything creative, even blog posts.

I have a list of posts I still want to write, but lately I haven't had much energy to write them.  And, as this blog has become increasingly politically focused, I've also felt some pressure to make every post "count" by writing about something deep or urgent or particularly relevant to the moment; to make every post have a point and a well-articulated argument.  This pressure is, of course, entirely self-imposed, but this is me acknowledging its presence.

This isn't meant to say that Laura on the Left (Coast) is heading for blog retirement or even hiatus.  For all I know I'll become completely unblocked over the holidays...or once I move to my new apartment...or once I get a job...and start writing up a storm again.  It is simply to admit confusion, and a bit of fatigue.  The past two and a half years have encompassed five moves (with a sixth on the horizon), four international trips, five feature scripts, a pilot and a TV spec.  Oh, and two Harry Potter movies.  And while I've had incredible, life-changing experiences that I wouldn't trade for anything in the world, it can get a bit draining as well.  So don't be surprised if this blog wanders or goes relatively quiet for a while, while I figure out the next part of my life.

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

today in "j.k. rowling is a total f*cking genius"

This post contains minor spoilers for the second half of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.

As was probably to be expected, watching Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 1 made me want to do nothing more than go back and read Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.  Although I had re-read some of my favorite sections, I had consciously avoided re-reading Deathly Hallows from start to finish since I blazed through it in about 48 hours on midnight release weekend in 2007.  It's just so good that I knew once I started it, I was going to have to re-read the whole damn thing.  So I did.

The Harry Potter books are symmetrical in many ways.  Reading the scene in which Harry, Ron and Hermione (disguised as Bellatrix Lestrange) navigate Diagon Alley on their way to break into Gringotts makes one inevitably think of that other trip to Diagon Alley, in the very first book.  (And in case we forget, Rowling reminds us through Harry's own memory.)  It made me want to go back and read that chapter in Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, at which point I found this:
"Why would you be mad to try and rob Gringotts?" Harry asked.

"Spells--enchantments," said Hagrid, unfolding his newspaper as he spoke.  "They say there's dragons guardin' the high security vaults." (SS p. 64)
Did she know, then, that some 4,000 pages later our heroes would be doing exactly the thing that Hagrid said was so mad, and escaping on the back of a dragon?  Surely she must have, to plant the information so subtly.  Rowling frequently uses the trick of introducing an important piece of information in a comedic, whimsical or character-quirk moment.  (Perhaps the best example of this is the way Expelliarmus, arguably the most important spell in the entire series, is introduced in a scene played mostly for laughs in Book 2.)

Rowling also uses symmetry to draw contrast.  Compare that wide-eyed, sparkly, Chris-Columbus-friendly walk down Diagon Alley in the first book with the downright chilling scene in Book 7, when Hermione-as-Bellatrix is accosted by a maimed, wandless wizard begging for the whereabouts of his disappeared children.  Way to suck the childlike wonder out of that one, Jo.

But that is part of the genius of Harry Potter, too.  Rowling introduces this world that's beautiful and magical and clever and breathtaking and funny and surprising.  She makes us fall in love with it.  And then she very nearly destroys it.  I can think of few writers with the guts to build a world so detailed and complex, and then inflict such total--sometimes irreversible--damage upon it.  It's a stroke of brilliance on Rowling's part, to spend the time setting up the normal routines of this world--magical though it is--to make it familiar to us, so that when nearly everything is eclipsed by the shadow of dictatorship and war, it feels like this could be our world, and we care.  It's one of the things that makes the series, for all its dragons and broomsticks and magic wands, seem incredibly real.