#iraqinquiry 2: This Time It’s Arsenal

(We join the conversation several minutes in, with the discussion chaired by Raymond Fisket Trout, formerly of the Mesopotamia Desk, MI6, and Sir Stephen Piddlehinton, former Under-Secretary for Arabian Relations under Margaret Thatcher)

Sir Gregory Bufton Hardacre: I think it’s very clear that Iraq was unique, in that while it wasn’t the most nerve-wracking in terms of actually developing WMD, it was the one we felt might give weapons to terrorists.

Raymond Fisket Trout: May I just break in here and ask why you felt that way?

Sir Greg.: Well, we had some pretty compelling evidence. From various sources, some of it, of course, people who’d been tortured, which is always a favourite at times like this. But also because Saddam had a history of aggression and the use of WMD. He used them against Iran and against the Kurds, for example.

Ray F-T.: Oh, yes. Yes, I remember. That was rather embarrassing, because we were very much in favour of him at the time… Why, I remember getting on the phone and saying to him, look here, old bean, you can’t just…

Sir Stephen Piddlehinton: I think we can pass over that, Raymond, if you don’t mind. National interest and so on.

Ray F-T.: National interest?

Sir Stephen P.: I mean to say that the nation is not interested.

Ray F-T.: Oh, quite so. Um, while you’re up, would you mind passing me another lemon cream?

Sir Stephen P.: Not at all. Good, aren’t they?

Ray F-T.: Very good.

Sir Greg.: If we could return to the issue of WMD…

Ray F-T.: that’s my line.

[laughter]

Sir Greg.: No, seriously… taxpayer’s money, after all… I think it’s important that we discuss (oh, these lemon creams are very good, aren’t they?) that we discuss the issues…

Sir Stephen P.: All right, then. Who was responsible for repackaging a report on battlefield munitions as a scare story about WMDs?

Sir Greg.: On sober reflection, pass the lapsang souchong, please…

Hmm.

I didn’t really have much time to watch today, what with trying to finish the new novel and so on. However, what I did see seemed unduly collegial. Moreover, there was an awful lot of stuff about how Saddam had successfully deceived UNSCOM, and how he was trying jolly hard to get weapons of mass destruction.

Seriously, I kid you not. We’re back with how it was all but certain at the time that WMDs were on the menu for Saddam, and he was a real military risk and we were all going to be bombed with fairy dust and flying cows anthrax. [If you've forgotten about the world's most elusive nukes, allow me to refresh your memory.]

WMDs will apparently be tomorrow’s topic. I just hope it doesn’t go like this:

Question: at the time, with the limited information available to you and the obviously very serious responsibility you had, did you feel there was a reasonable argument to be made that Saddam Hussein wanted and could obtain weapons of mass destruction?

Answer: Yes.

Question: well, I think that’s conclusive. Thank you very much.

I also devoutly hope that when the committee starts to talk about sensitive issues which could theoretically lead to war crimes charges, they don’t immediately grant immunity to everyone who might be charged. Because I would regard that as an abdication of legitimacy.

You can follow the inquiry – the bits you’re allowed to see, that is – here.

Yes, that’s the Hindenburg, and no, I do not believe it’s all over for bookshops.

It does appear, however, that Borders has crashed again, only a few months after being rescued, and the flesh-and-blood booktrade is apparently losing money hand over fist to the online shops.

On the upside, the IndieBound initiative is coming to the UK. Indiebound is a network, a cultural talking shop, a pro-local, wired revolution centred on independent booksellers. After all, as they’re keen to remind us, if you buy from an indie bookseller, you’re putting money into your local economy, supporting charities, reducing your carbon footprint, and reinforcing your community in the face of the atomising effect of globalisation. So it’s kind of a no-brainer. It may be in the medium to long term that the creative businesses have to change, but let’s not let the Idiot Hand of the market tear down communities and put up cardboard replicas. Let’s make the shift a benevolent one. Buying is voting, so let’s vote for something worth having.[1,2,3,4]

In the spirit of which, here’s a couple of things I would like from my local bookshop…

Diversity and insanity

I can get the latest Dan Brown at the train station bookshop. It will inevitably be ludicrously discounted. (Hm. And there’s a thing. Waterstone’s is in a price war with Amazon. Waterstone’s and other real world shops and the online sellers are jointly squeezing publishers for greater discounts. Here’s a notion: if publishers take a stand on discounting and Waterstone’s and friends go along with it, Amazon &co. can be pushed away from crazy reductions and the booktrade can breathe for a few months. Aaaaaaanyway.) These days I’ll probably buy it on iPhone, anyway. I don’t need a paper copy of The Lost Symbol.

I don’t mean that a small bookshop shouldn’t sell bestsellers. I mean that what’s great about them is that you can trip over My Cousin, My Gastroenterologist or Night of the Avenging Blowfish, or a forgotten gem like Fawn Brodie’s staggering The Devil Drives. You can get these books on the internet – but you won’t hear about them unless someone tells you they’re there.

Which brings up…

Curatorship

Yes. The bookseller is the sommelier of the written word. “With your new sofa and a glass of Talisker, Frabjous & Lobe’s Books Of Quality is pleased to recommend Don’t Point That Thing At Me, sir. The verbiage is fruity, the plot pithy, and the characters possess verve, sir. And to follow, we recommend a crackling log fire and David Grossman’s most excellent Writing In The Dark. It broadens the mind, sir.”

Dexterity

One of the bizarre experiences of buying a book from big chains is ordering. I’m staggered when I have this dialogue:

“I’d like a copy of Sharp Teeth, please.”

“Oh, yes. Great book. Uh, we’ve sold out. Would you like to order it?”

“Yes, that would be great.”

“Okay, it’ll be here in a week.”

“Wait, we’re what now?”

Disadvantages of scale? Problems with parking? I have no idea. But Primrose Hill Books, my old local shop, could get most titles in 24 hours – making them at least as fast as Amazon.

Print On Demand?

This requires a bit of shift, but I really think it’s interesting. I love the idea of being able to go into a bookshop and have them print a properly formatted book for me, in one of a variety of sizes (“pocket or portfolio, sir?”) and put on, perhaps, one of a number of independently-produced jacket designs of my choosing. A local artist’s work, perhaps. Or, of course, a lightweight temporary version at lower cost, which I can write in and drop in the bath. And what if they could do that with my eBook? What if I could buy the eBook and then decide I wanted a paper version after all?

Yes, all right, this is bookscience fiction. But it needn’t be for long.

Stopping there for the moment, because I have work to do. What do you think about all this?