A COMMUNICATION
THOUGHTS ABOUT TWO HOMES FROM ABROAD
One does genuinely feel that there is something wrong with
England-something that remains, after discounting the maladjustments
that reflect one's own inadequacies, and the indictments that reflect
one's own brilliance; but what is it?
Well, there's the type. We do tend to produce a
type.
England
seems to speak with the same voice about internal and external politics,
about the theater and the cinema, about literature and music, about
religion and morals, and it is, essentially, a dead voice. Perhaps that's
it. But that word dead, of course, requires so much definition--or
rather requires a definition of life. Still, you have to begin somewhere.
What does dead mean, then? Well, let's take the
Sundcry Times.
It's so discreet, for one thing. When Glubb Pasha and the British of–
ficers in the Arab Legion were dismissed, the
Sunday Times
wrote:
To a British public long accustomed to think of General Glubb
not only as the creator of the Arab Legion but as one who has devoted
his life to the welfare of the Trans-Jordanian Arab, the shock of his
summary dismissal will be equalled by the astonishment felt at the
nation-wide demonstrations of joy which the news of his departure has
evoked in Jordan. To close observers of Middle Eastern affairs, how–
ever, this evidence of "The Pasha's" unpopularity is not altogether
unexpected, although the brutal ingratitude with which his services have
been terminated is difficult to understand.
Equally difficult is it to assess the exact extent to which his in–
fluence in affairs of State was exerted, or to what degree, if at all,
he assumed Ministerial powers.
The fact remains that, rightly or wrongly, it was popularly be–
lieved that th« selection of Prime Ministers and their Cabinets, to say
nothing of minor Governmental appointments, depended upon the grac6
and favour of "The Pasha." (March 4,
1956)
I wonder how large a segment of the British public thought about
Glubb Pasha at
all.
It seems to me that he had been kept pretty quiet
by those who knew-he was one of those things we don't talk about.
As
for his being "one who had devoted his life to the Trans-Jordanian
Arab," nobody thinks
in
such terms any more. That's parchment; we
write on paper nowadays. What is the whole style,
in
fact, but cotton
