A price for what -we were told- is priceless

A bouquet of gladiola in my left arm, I enter a pharmacy (non-Americans read: supermarket) this morning for some needed supplies. As I was strolling past the ostentatious aisles stocked with luring merchandise I came across an older gentleman, who, having pushed his half-empty cart on the side was counting -with religious devotion I might add- a handful of single dollars. Prescriptions are getting more expensive I said to myself.

And this got me thinking. If there is something I have been struggling to come to terms with in my five years in the United States is this expanded notion of unpredictability of human life: you live today, you die tomorrow. Bearing striking resemblance to narratives about everyday life in post-Saddam liberated Iraq, this statement describing life in Massachusetts and other (wealthy) US states is neither a puzzle nor a trap: it is true and should be read literally - this is what makes it also very disturbing. Because health insurance is largely privatized -with the burden of responsibility befalling to the citizens and (increasingly less) to employers- those citizens unable to pay the fees -which can be anywhere around $3,000 upwards- may have no coverage whatsoever and hence, simply, die.

Apparently a few thousand individuals -those on the very bottom of the income echelon- will be spared the 'death' sentence in Massachusetts [capital punishment does not have to do necessarily with one's moral standing] thanks to a recent state initiative to fully cover the insurance costs of those making less than $9,800 a year. At the same time, the "rest of the poor" may well contemplate whether it is better to die of a disease or of an accident overnight as opposed to suffering a slow painful psychological death, such as the one that comes along with loans, interests, eviction, homelessness... and mind you the latter guarantees death in freezing Massachusetts.

If in reformist Massachusetts one can spot a modern Hamlet contemplating "to live or not to live", news from France comes as a soothing, much-needed, reminder of the fact that humans have not crossed communal life off of the dictionary - yet. As of December 1st, 2008, homeless and all those living in a poor housing situation will be entitled to some decent housing.

To compare France and the United States on an equal footing would be unfair and a proof of ignorance of the different paths that the countries have taken with respect to social policies. Conversely, it would be wholly wrong to overly accentuate the particularistic elements that account for the American experience by not being critical vis-à-vis what constitutes a direct assault on human dignity; or how differently could one describe the fact that "the little less poor" -those not covered under said legislation- "decide" not to buy insurance because the cost of the penalty is cheaper than the monthly payment for the insurance?

Part of the confusion arises from the fact that Massachusetts is "reformist" or "different" and hence requires that people buy insurance. Similarly, the proposition for free insurance for the poorest of the poor is considered too "advanced" and costly by other states with greater proportion of poor. Interestingly so, many such states voted President Bush a second time into office, aware of his agenda priorities: let us not forget that John Kerry was, after all, a senator from Beantown [a nickname for Boston].

References and Links

I thank Dimitris Stefosis for the link and the original idea: Massachusetts spurs health-care debate

On housing in France: Un toit pour tous. Enfin, peut-être...

The world could be a better place: Irène Némirovsky

Duty often befalls upon us, future generations, to speak of those most capable and enlightened individuals who did not receive recognition during their lifetime - not to say were maltreated. One such person that deserves to be honored is author Irène Némirovsky, a Ukrainian-born French-raised Jewish woman whose last book "Suite Française" was published in 2004 by Denoël in France.

Remarkable as the literary style of Némirovsky may be, it is the "Némirovsky-individual" as opposed to the "Némirovsky-author" that I wish to bring up here. Besides, if it was just about the prose, a literary review would suffice; instead here is the case of an honorable person which happens to be known to us via books and manuscripts.

A woman of principles and values, a woman that perhaps exemplifies the true meaning of 'love of the other', the symbol of anti-racism, Némirovsky was born in Ukraine in 1903 to a Jewish family and to a mother that paid little attention to her. Thanks to her French gouvernante, Némirovsky adjusted easily in France - where her family moved and grew to love as her own; yet France never granted her citizenship paving the way to her death. Like many and despite being a published author already, Némirovsky was not spared from Nazi horror; she was arrested in 1942 and died at Auschwitz shortly thereafter.

"Suite Française" comes to us half a century after her premature death in the form of a manuscript; foreseeing her arrest in 1942 Némirovsky put her handrwritten loose pages in the suitcases of her two daughters as she was sending them off to a Monastery so that they -at least- could escape Nazis. In the first edition of "Suite Française" one is able to read notes from the Cahiers (Notebook) of Irène where she explains in detail the ambitious project that "Suite Française" would be: a series of four books that would commence with the raid of Paris and would end with the triumph of peace and love epitomized by a marriage. But Némirovsky managed to write only parts I and II: the rest of the book remained forever with her.

The narrative, the full structure, even her choice of simple words all receive praise from critics; truly, the full book would be an epic achievement. What is most important in this book to me as a reader is the humanity that comes out of it. I cannot think of a better example of dignity and nobility than Némirovsky's portrayal of average German soldiers. Nothing strikes me as a greater proof of kindness than conceding virtue to one's enemies knowing that such men will have to kill you and your children. It requires great reserves of kindness to be a Jew during World War II and to create the character of Bruno von Falk: powerful as the descriptions are one almost comes to believe that Némirovsky feels pity for the fate of the Germans. Everyone sees the dividing line between Nazi ideology and average German soldiers; one can hardly believe nonetheless that such words of peace and solidarity come from a woman that knows her death is coming.

The following is a passage from "Suite Française". Némirovsky initially talks about Bruno von Falk and later permeates into his soul to talk about how the soldier fantasizes taking his French hostess -with whom he shares a lot- Lucile to a Ball... The passage comes from Book II (Dolce).

"Bruno s'abandonnait à cette excitation puérile à la fois un peu folle et presque désespérée qui s'empare des soldats dans les moments où le combat fait trêve et où il espère quelque diversion à l'ennui quotidien. (...) Il avait envie de dire, comme un enfant à qui l'on a promis le cirque et que l'on voulait garder à la maison(...) Il n'était pas uniquement soldat du Reich. Il n'était pas mû simplement par les intérêts du régiment et de la patrie. Il était le plus humain des hommes. Il songea qu'il cherchait comme tous les êtres les bonheur, le libre épanouissement de ses facultés et que (comme tous les êtres, hélas, en ce temps-ci) ce désir légitime était constamment contrarié par une sorte de raison d'Etat qui s'appellait guerre, sécurité publique, nécessité de maintenir le prestige de l'armée victorieuse. (...) Mais ce que les Français n'auraient pu comprendre, c'est qu'il n'était pas orgueilleux ni arrogant, mais sincèrement humble, effrayé de la grandeur de sa tâche.

Mais justement aujourd'hui, il n'y voulait pas penser. Il préférait jouer avec cette idée de bal ou bien rêver à des choses irréalisables, à une Lucile toute proche de lui par exemple, à une Lucile qui pourrait le suivre à la fête... Je délire, se dit-il en souriant. Bah! tant pis! En mon âme, je suis libre. Dans son esprit, il dessinait une robe à Lucile, pas une robe de ce temps-ci, mais semblable à une gravure romantique; une robe blanche aux grands volants de mousseline, évasée comme une corolle, afin qu'en dansant avec elle, en la tenant dans ses bras, il sentît par moments, autour de ses jambes, le fouettement d'écume de ses dentelles."

(Extract from: Irène Némirovsky. Suite Française. Paris: Denoël, 2004, pp.367-368.)

Il y (en) a partout...

The debate on 'what is poverty?' is a hot but not a new one: economists, proponents of defining poverty with mathematical formulas and anthropologists with an insistence on cultural variance have been crafting successful and less-than-successful definitions of poverty for years now. Regardless of how poverty ends up being defined, instances of poverty or, of what resembles to poverty, abound in rich and poor counties, in big and small cities, in urban and rural settings.

Because poverty is such a big challenge for countries and the world, efforts from governments and international organizations concentrate on perfecting existing approaches to dealing with poverty; to that end in a statement released a few days ago, the World Bank announced that is expected that globalization reduces world poverty. Meanwhile and regardless of whether on adheres to this line of thought or not, it is important to get to know the 'enemy' well: how are we expected to win the battle ignoring the 'strengths' of our opponent, ignoring its many faces?

French daily "Le Monde" published a very interesting article titled "Nous, les travailleurs pauvres" ("We, the poor workers") on the subject matter of poverty and one of its nasty faces, urban poverty. Claire Guélaud narrates the personal stories of individuals that are poor (or near the dividing line- pending which definition of poverty you take). Yet it is not the story of homeless or unemployed people: it is the story of individuals that work but barely (if ever) make the ends. It is the story of people whose receipt of financial aid is contingent upon how much or how little work they found this month, as most of them are part time workers. It is the story of people that experience the frustration of unpredictability and the anxiety of seeing the electricity bill rise, even if such a rise amounts to a coin or two worth of euros.

Regardless of the category in which such individuals fit in, particularly since it may change by the day, the article raises important questions about economics, society, social responsibility and education. It even brings up the question of the ability to control one's life and future, most evident in the case of Mr. Lewille who dreads the day that Social Security will take his little child on account that he is not able to raise a family.

San Jacinto and parts of urban France like Roubaix (Nord) may differ substantially in just about everything; and yet if there is a commonality to be found then that would be that they both have people that suffer; people that work a lot and gain little.

Next to the damage it causes on people's lives, poverty's defining characteristic is its ability to conceal itself: behind statistics, behind nice clothes even behind a big smile. That all makes poverty no less an enemy to people: it only makes harder to fight.

References:

World Bank Statement: Global Economic Prospects 2007: Managing the Next Wave of Globalization

article in Le Monde: Nous, les travailleurs pauvres