Annual Fundraising Appeal
Over the course of 21 years, we’ve published many unflattering stories about Henry Kissinger. We’ve recounted his involvement in the Chilean coup and the illegal bombings of Cambodia and Laos; his hidden role in the Kent State massacre and the genocide in East Timor; his noxious influence peddling in DC and craven work for dictators and repressive regimes around the world. We’ve questioned his ethics, his morals and his intelligence. We’ve called for him to be arrested and tried for war crimes. But nothing we’ve ever published pissed off HK quite like this sequence of photos taken at a conference in Brazil, which appeared in one of the early print editions of CounterPunch.
100716HenryKissingerNosePicking
The publication of those photos, and the story that went with them, 20 years ago earned CounterPunch a global audience in the pre-web days and helped make our reputation as a fearless journal willing to take the fight to the forces of darkness without flinching. Now our future is entirely in your hands. Please donate.

Day12Fixed

Yes, these are dire political times. Many who optimistically hoped for real change have spent nearly five years under the cold downpour of political reality. Here at CounterPunch we’ve always aimed to tell it like it is, without illusions or despair. That’s why so many of you have found a refuge at CounterPunch and made us your homepage. You tell us that you love CounterPunch because the quality of the writing you find here in the original articles we offer every day and because we never flinch under fire. We appreciate the support and are prepared for the fierce battles to come.

Unlike other outfits, we don’t hit you up for money every month … or even every quarter. We ask only once a year. But when we ask, we mean it.

CounterPunch’s website is supported almost entirely by subscribers to the print edition of our magazine. We aren’t on the receiving end of six-figure grants from big foundations. George Soros doesn’t have us on retainer. We don’t sell tickets on cruise liners. We don’t clog our site with deceptive corporate ads.

The continued existence of CounterPunch depends solely on the support and dedication of our readers. We know there are a lot of you. We get thousands of emails from you every day. Our website receives millions of hits and nearly 100,000 readers each day. And we don’t charge you a dime.

Please, use our brand new secure shopping cart to make a tax-deductible donation to CounterPunch today or purchase a subscription our monthly magazine and a gift sub for someone or one of our explosive  books, including the ground-breaking Killing Trayvons. Show a little affection for subversion: consider an automated monthly donation. (We accept checks, credit cards, PayPal and cold-hard cash….)
cp-store

or use
pp1

To contribute by phone you can call Becky or Deva toll free at: 1-800-840-3683

Thank you for your support,

Jeffrey, Joshua, Becky, Deva, and Nathaniel

CounterPunch
 PO Box 228, Petrolia, CA 95558

The Last Days of Gaddafi?

Collapse in Libya

by BINOY KAMPMARK

The regimes are panicking in pools of blood.  The earth, it would seem, is moving beneath the feet of those who have stayed in power for decades.  The Libyan authorities have been trigger happy, butchering hundreds.  Those in Bahrain are slaying various protesters at intervals.

Looking more like a frayed drag queen the longer he remains in office, Muammar Gaddafi, after almost 42 years in power, is losing his nerve.  The spectacular last act is being called for, and armies are being summoned.  (Will they materialise?  Increasingly, this is not the case)   As Robert Fisk noted in The Independent, ‘Gaddafi was in a class of his own, Mickey Mouse and Prophet, Batman and Clark Gable and Anthony Quinn playing Omar Mukhtar in Lion and the Desert, Nero and Mussolini (the 1920s version), and, inevitably – the greatest actor of them all – Muammar Gaddafi.’

Despotisms are often vast theatres of spectacle.  The act must go on, because that is very often the only thing that sustains the state in permanent emergency

The prognosis for the government in Tripoli dire.  The Gaddafi regime’s survival is based on a calculus of blood.  Gaddafi has called the demonstrators ‘rats’.  Based on few reports coming from activists, aerial bombardments have taken place.  Snipers have been deployed.  But even spectacular displays of bloody defense eventually fail.  The opposition is proving defiant, and smells the weakness of the regime, calling for more nights of protest in Tripoli’s Green Square.

The breaches of the dam have been noted.  Even within the Libyan regime, arguments are being made, quite openly, that ‘genocide’ is being practised.  Ambassadors have resigned.  Abdel-Moneim al-Houni, Libya’s ambassador to the Arab League in Cairo, has openly called for Gaddafi to leave office.  The deputy permanent representative to the United Nations, Ibrahim Dabbashi, has made the observation that, ‘We are sure that what is going on now in Libya is crimes against humanity and crimes against war.’  A faction of Libyan army officers has issued a statement calling for soldiers to embolden the protesters and join them.  Two air force colonels have landed in Malta seeking asylum.  In Libya’s second city, Benghazi, the flag of the monarchy overthrown in 1969 can be seen flying.

Rumors of him fleeing are also circulating.  Ever the thespian, he appeared on television with an umbrella from a car, proclaiming that he was neither in France nor Venezuela, but ‘still here’.  There is even a note of comedy in these rituals of a regime on the run: Gaddafi has been looking for a facelift.  Revolutionary gains, it would seem, are well and truly sagging. 

In truth, he is not the only one in need of cosmetic re-adjustment.  The international community has done much to integrate the Gaddafi regime.  The wily fox has been pampered and spoiled, a sign, in a sense, of the genius of his acting.  For that reason, any statement that now comes out of Downing Street, New York, or Washington should be looked at with suspicion.  There is only one show that matters, and they are not part of it. 

BINOY KAMPMARK was a Commonwealth Scholar at Selwyn College, Cambridge.  He lectures at RMIT University, Melbourne. Email: bkampmark@gmail.com