A Clash of Anniversaries

Today is St Vitus’s Day. The day is particularly significant in Serbian history, as in 1389 it saw the Battle of the Field of Blackbirds (or Kosovo) in which the expanding Ottoman Empire destroyed the Serbian army and set the course for centuries of Ottoman dominance of the Balkans.

By 1914, that dominance had collapsed. The nineteenth-century had seen the creation of an independent Serbia, and during the Balkan Wars of 1912-13, Serbia had increased its territory by 80% at the Ottomans’ expense. 28^th June 1914 was the first anniversary since the Kosovo battlefield had come under Serb control.

For the Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife, Sophie Chotek, then visiting the town of Sarajevo in Austrian-ruled Bosnia, the day had a different significance. Fourteen years earlier, Franz Ferdinand had humiliated himself in front of the Austro-Hungarian court in order to marry her. Emperor Franz Josef did not consider Sophie Chotek a suitable wife for his heir, since although she was an aristocrat, she did not come from one of the great European dynastic families.

The Emperor only grudgingly gave his consent to the marriage on condition that Sophie would not have the title of Empress and that their children would not have the right to inherit the Habsburg throne. The Archduke was so in love and determined to marry Sophie that he swore an oath to this effect on 28^th June 1900, and married her three days later.

The Archduke and his wife were not popular at court, and one reason (aside from their upcoming wedding anniversary) Sophie was so determined to accompany Franz Ferdinand on his 1914 tour of Bosnia was that, being far from disapproving Vienna, they could officiate at public events together. Although they had received various warnings about the dangers of going to such an unsettled region, the couple were relaxed and felt welcomed, even shopping at the Sarajevo bazaar a few days before their official visit to the town. The Archduchess rebuked a Bosnian Croat leader who had said it was too dangerous for the couple to visit:

‘You are wrong after all […]. Everywhere we have gone here, we have been treated with so much friendliness –and by every last Serb too– with so much cordiality and unstimulated warmth that we are very happy about it’

She could not have known that, as she walked through the narrow streets of Sarajevo’s bazaar, that she and her husband were being shadowed by a young Serb named Gavril Princip.

Princip likely did not know about the significance of the 28^th June to the royal couple, but he was deeply familiar with its associations for Serbs. He was part of a group of perfervid Serbain nationalists who saw themselves in the tradition of Miloš Obilić, legendary Serbian hero of the Battle of Kosovo, who had assassinated the Ottoman Sultan. Like Miloš, they were prepared be martyred in the attempt, either at the hands of their enemies or by their own cyanide capsules.

Their targets were the Archduke and his wife. It was Princip who fired the fatal shots, which led Europe into the Great War, and gave us a very different anniversary to remember .

Sleepwalking again?

I recently read Christopher Clark’s excellent and informative tome The Sleepwalkers: How Europe Went to War in 1914. He sets out to understand the July Crisis (the confusing sequence of diplomatic moves which linked the assassination of the Archduke Franz Ferdinand to the outbreak of the Great War thirty seven days later) as a modern international crisis. Far from monolithic imperial states jostling with each other, Clark portrays the jostling between government departments, officials and personalities that produced policy and pronouncements and traces the way these were transmitted to other governments, both through (often contradictory) diplomatic communications and through the echo chamber of the international press. It is difficult to summarise his thesis, as he doesn’t have an explicit explanation for the war, except that no-one really intended it (though if it came to a war, they were ready to fight it, by Jingo!), and that the chances of a war were increased by each of a number of factors including (but not limited to):

·         the polarisation of Europe between the Entente powers of Britain, and Russia, and the Central powers of Germany and Austria-Hungary

·          the willingness of international players to commit themselves strongly in the tinderbox of the Balkans

·         an unwillingness to think through how one’s own actions might appear to another state

·          the developing view in Britain, France and Russia of Austria-Hungary as an empire on the verge of collapse with no legitimate interests outside its borders

·         an upsurge in militarism, particularly France, in the years before 1914

·         an anti-German phobia in the British press and political class that viewed its intentions as predatory and dishonest, focused particularly on the Kaiser

·         Russian enthusiasm for pan-Slavism and supporting Slavic peoples beyond its borders

·         An ambiguity on the part of the British foreign secretary, Sir Edward Grey, who privately committed Britain to support France and Russia, but denied any alliances in public. This meant that on the one hand France felt insecure and upped its military spending, while on the other Germany was confident Britain would not intervene in a European war.

The list could be doubled many times over, but these are the ones that particularly stick in my mind when comparing the world in 1914 and 2014. Clark’s great strength is in making the July Crisis feel contemporary, by giving it a cast of worried politicians and obsessive policy wonks. Looking at the international stage a hundred years later, the actors themselves may have changed, but the roles and portions of the script seem very familiar. A century after the catastrophic breakdown of the international system of European world empires, how much has changed? Allow me to hand out some prizes for similarities.

The Wilhelm II Award for Closeted Homoerotic Bombast must surely go to Vladimir Putin. While he may have swapped the Kaiser’s fabulous collection of uniforms for topless photo-ops, the Russian President has constructed a hypermasculine image of himself, simultaneously bringing a certain amount of domestic respect (rather more than Wilhelm, at any rate) and Western ridicule. Indeed, the Western media’s obsession with Putin as the autocratic driver of an aggressive policy mirrors its previous portrayal of the Kaiser. See this piece on how the media regularly fits Russia and its leader into the ‘threatening autocrat’ box. This isn’t to deny the truth of many of the charges against Putin; indeed, he fits the box rather better than the Kaiser, who had far less say in the running of his government and was terrified at the prospect of an actual war. But there is a striking similarity to the ‘press wars’ which preceded the Great War, in which the newspapers of different nations frequently panicked about each other’s ambitions and painted each other as bellicose imperialists. Putin’s defence of annexing Ukraine in the name of defending its Russian inhabitants has echoes of Imperial Russia as the defender of the Slavic people, which can only be worrying for the Baltic states which have large Russian minorities. Annexation is classic Great Power stuff.

However, the outraged rumblings among hawks in America also have the feel of the old Great Powers about them, and they are worthy recipients of the Raymond Poincaré Medal for Blinkered Paranoia.  They worry about how Russian success shows up their own impotence, and demand action in response. There is little consideration how their own actions, in extending NATO to the borders of Russia and planning for a defensive missile shield, are seen by Russian hawks as aggressive.  They deny that Russia has any legitimate interest in Ukraine, while at the same time project American military power across the world. I don’t mean to say that Russia does in fact have a right to intervene in what it regards as its backyard. But there is a similar hypocrisy to American objections to Russian actions in Ukraine and Georgia after their own invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq as there is in the French spluttering over the 1908 Austrian annexation of Bosnia before making Morocco a French protectorate in 1911 (having sent in troops, incidentally, on the pretext of protecting the European population). The international system is viewed by its main benefactors in a similarly one-sided way.

There are many worthy contenders for the Habsburg Memorial Prize, awarded to that state or empire made up of many nationalities, whose chaotic politics make it appear to be constantly about to collapse. The EU, a multilingual bureaucratic nightmare of a polity to rival the Austro-Hungarian Empire if ever there was one, is a strong runner, but seems oddly calm so far this year, with no worries (yet) of the imminent exit of its indebted Mediterranean members as there has been in previous years, and the possibility of a British exit is (thankfully) unlikely to materialise for several years, if at all. However, there are other wavering polities about: Ukraine itself is obviously terribly divided, Britain has an upcoming referendum on Scottish independence, and Spain is facing an increasingly assertive movement for Catalan independence. These all deserve recognition, so I shall have to invent some more categories. The Irish Home Rule Bill Prize for Country That Looks Most Likely to Descend into Civil War goes, without a doubt, to Ukraine. The Ottoman Cup for Inability to Deal With Breakaway Regions must go to Mariano Rajoy, whose government is refusing to accommodate Catalan nationalists, which looks likely to provoke a unilateral response.

This means the Habsburg Memorial Prize goes to the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. This isn’t intended as a prediction of dissolution, but instead one of hope: the Habsburg Empire was able to greatly extend its life through the Compromise of 1867, giving essentially separate jurisdiction to Hungary and the Austrian lands, and Franz Ferdinand himself was an advocate of greater federalisation. Indeed, the parallels between the UK in 1914 and 2014 are striking: in 1914 the imminence of Irish Home Rule and the likelihood of civil war loomed over the nation, and people wondered just how the rest of the United Kingdom might get on following the devolution of power and/or secession of one part of it. ‘Home rule all round’ was the slogan proposing greater devolution of powers to all the nations, and it’s started to be picked up again as a rallying cry in our own times. Today, we similarly ponder the consequences of Scottish independence or ‘devo-max’. I don’t approve myself of the splitting of countries simply on the basis on nationalism (this, in fact, is one of the lessons of 1914), but I predict that whatever the outcome of the Scottish referendum, we shall hear similar proposals about greater devolution and power for regional governments across the UK.

We come now to the Sir Edward Grey Trophy for Unhelpfully Ambiguous Diplomacy. In recognition of Grey’s love of cricket, it is a small urn containing the ashes of Neville Chamberlain’s umbrella. In an accolade even more unwelcome than his Nobel Peace Prize, I award it to the President of the United States of America, Barack Obama. It is not often I agree with Neil Ferguson, but the comparison he draws here (behind the Times paywall, I’m afraid) is too apt. Sir Edward Grey walked the difficult tightrope of promising support to France in private, while denying any such continental entanglements in public (and, indeed, in Cabinet meetings). As the world’s greatest power, it is conceivable that had Britain made more explicit its support of France and Russia in 1914, Germany and Austria might have been cowed into backing down. Similarly, Ferguson and others think that the current international status quo depends on the world’s foremost power, the USA, being more explicit about its willingness to support its allies (South Korea, Japan, Israel, the Baltic members of NATO) against rising, threatening powers (Russia, China, Iran). Unlike Ferguson, I think both these interpretations are based on a militaristic wishful thinking, and that greater commitment would be as likely to raise tensions as solve problems.

While it’s possible to draw many parallels between 1914 and 2014 as years of international crisis, there are thankfully elements Clark identifies as preconditions for the Great War that are absent. There isn’t a theatre or region in which the big actors have so committed themselves that a local crisis could escalate into a global conflict. In 1914, the Russians were busy committing themselves to Serbia, with French blessing and tacit British approval, while the Germans were happy to offer unconditional support to Austria-Hungary. Consequently, when the First Balkan War of 1912-13 and the Second Balkan War of 1913 were followed by another conflagration in 1914, the result was not the Third Balkan War but the First World War. Looking at the trouble spots of the world today nowhere quite contains the series of dominoes that the Balkans in 1914 did. In the Middle East, an Israeli and/or US intervention in Syria and/or Iran now seems unlikely in itself, and unlikelier still to provoke an armed response from Russia on behalf of her allies. No-one has proposed the West goes to war over Ukraine or Crimea. However, one can see there are areas that might develop such a trigger mechanism. Should Russia start fiddling around in Lithuania, say, in the way it has in Ukraine, then it would force NATO to weigh its willingness to go to war against its alliance commitments. The dispute between Japan and China over the Senkaku/ Diaoyu  Islands also threatens to drag the US into a regional conflict. Indeed, the comparison with 1914 has already been made by no less a figure than Shinzo Abe, the Japanese Prime Minister, who said  Japan and China were like Britain and Germany a century ago.

However, despite some sabre-rattling, there does not appear to be a resignation to war on the part of any of the international players. Although none of the Great Powers actually intended war in 1914, many soldiers and diplomats were convinced that one was coming (because of the other chaps, obviously), and were quite prepared to fight it when it did. It was fatalism that led Germany to mobilise against Russia, reckoning that it was better to fight before the latter’s militarisation was complete. Russia and France, too, assumed that a conflict with Germany was inevitable, and armed themselves for it. Austria-Hungary and Serbia equally thought they would one day come to blows, whether or not they wanted to. Today there is thankfully no such sense of looming conflict. China’s rise is being greeted peacefully and does not appear to portend global war. It is difficult to imagine Russia, China, America and the European nations seriously considering war with each other. Everyone simply has too much to lose.

After a century, we have, perhaps learnt that it is a good idea to avoid the horrors of war, even it is probably the threat of nuclear annihilation rather than the dreadful cataclysm of 1914-18 that has taught us it. Therefore the final prize, the Gavrilo Princip Medal for Sparking Global Conflict will not be awarded this year. But it is only May.

If David Cameron is sowing religious division, he's going about it in a very funny way

I never thought I’d take to the web to defend David Cameron from attack by some of my favourite writers (quite the reverse), but here it goes. Easter in Christian tradition is a festival full of strange reversals of fortune and inversions of ideas, and this past season has been stranger than most, having seen a group of avowed atheists and secularists take a more orthodox position on religion than the staunchly Anglican Prime Minister. Something weird is going on.

First, to the clash that’s revealed this difference in conceptions of religion. David Cameron wrote a column in the Church Times, which follows the pattern of politicians’ essays in being full of generally unremarkable platitudes, standard shallow defences of policy with a few key phrases desgined to grab headlines. The latter, in this case, was the belief that Britain “should be more confident about our status as a Christian country”. This was a dog-whistle not only to the disgruntled Tories the Prime Minister was trying to woo back into the fold after the rise of UKIP and the passage of gay marriage, but also to the British Humanist Association, who promptly and predictably fired off a letter to the Telegraph signed by Terry Pratchett, Philip Pullman and a host of other luminaries, accusing Cameron of fostering “alienation and division”.

My eye was caught by the comments of the BHA’s chief executive, making the statistical case that Britain was not Christian on the grounds that 60% of people never attended a religious service (though this seem a lot of people who never get invited to religious weddings or funerals), and that the census data recording 59% of people as Christians as “gives an inflated figure and measures cultural attachment rather than religiosity”. He is likely write that those identifying as Christians are doing so for cultural rather than religious reasons. But does the fact they do so no support the idea that British culture is in fact tinged with Christianity? If a large number of Britains identify as Christians, even if very vaguely, on the grounds they also identify as British, that surely means Britain is, even if very vaguely, a Christian country.

The use of Christianity as an adjective here is not meant in an all-encompasing description of Britain as uniformly Christian. Britain clearly isn’t, and hasn’t been for several centuries. Rather it is to imply that Britain has long been influenced by Christianity, has a large number of adherents, has many shared values and is in these terms more Christian than some other countries, and isn’t meant to suggest there aren’t countervailing British traditions. These are the same criteria by which we might describe Britain as liberal, eccentric, pleasant, sarcastic, hypocritical, animal-loving, football-obsessed, cricket-obsessed, moderate, conservative, secularist, class-ridden and rainy. All these and more form a part of our ‘nation character’, and it seems churlish to deny ‘Christian’ a place in the frequently self-contradictory list.

It is a little strange that in their attempts to cut down the statistical significance of self-described Christians, the BHA end up presenting themselves as arbiters over what ‘really counts’ as Christian. I’m particularly struck that they use belief in the divinity of Christ and the Resurrection . These are topics over which Christians in the past two centuries have spilt a great deal of ink (and, in earlier centuries, more than a little blood). The divinity of Christ, and exactly what that means, has provoked Christians to disagreement and schism, and to this day different denominations label each other as not being properly Christian for not believing in Jesus’ divinity in the right way, for all that they share a devotion to the same man. While clearly these things are important to Christians, it’s strange to see the BHA doing the same. Belief in the Resurrection as a historical fact, which is probably what the BHA would understand as belief, is a touchstone for many Christians. But others (like myself and, I suspect, David Cameron) struggle to reconcile this, much as the BHA would, with a scientific and historical view of the universe, and hold to the Resurrection as a spiritual truth.   To its critics, inside and outside the church, this position seems vague and woolly, and I can hardly deny it, but here is not the place to defend it, only to note that it exists within Christianity. At any rate it is surely encompassed within David Cameron’s vision of the Church of England. He defends its “percieved wooliness”, saying:

I am not one for doctrinal purity, and I don't believe it is essential for evangelism about the Church's role in our society or its importance. It is important - and, as I have said, I would like it to do more, not less, in terms of action to improve our society and the education of our children.

If anyone is being religiously divisive here, it isn’t the Prime Minister. The BHA wants to define Christianity in terms of beliefs and church attendance. David Cameron describes a typical member of the Church of England, like himself, thusly: “not that regular in attendance, and a bit vague on some of the more difficult parts of the faith.” The BHA is falling in line with a very traditionalist measure of faith. Cameron, like other Anglicans, is trying to move to something different.

More interesting than the back-and-forth over what counts as a Christian country is whether the BHA is fair in calling Cameron divisive simply because he invokes Christianity. This certainly doesn’t appear to be his intention. Although Cameron sets out how his government policies (like keeping foreign aid at 0.7% of GDP) can be supported by Christian morality, he also explicitly recognises that other Christians oppose him on the basis of that same morality. He could hardly do otherwise when the Archbishop of Canterbury spent his Easter sermon laying into how his policies affect the poor. While he is encouraging more interaction between faith and politics, Cameron frankly admits that the same faith can lead to different politics. This is a strikingly pluralistic model of how faith and politics should interact- rather than religion dogmatically dictating political positions, it provides a shared moral framework differing opinions can debate within.

This inherent pluralism means that the role Cameron sees for Christianity in multicultural Britain is far from divisive: “Being more confident about our status as a Christian country does not somehow involve doing down other faiths or passing judgement on those with no faith at all,” Cameron says. Much like traditional dogma within Christianity, Cameron appears to expect Christianity in British public life to be a starting point for debate, a spur to action. To inspire non-Christian voices in response, not suppress them, is the purposes. The aim of asserting Britain to be a Christian country is not to make Britain more Christian in its religion, but to restore a language of morality to its discourse- nor of particular morals but ethics in general:

Crucially, the Christian values of responsibility, hard work, charity, compassion, humility, and love are shared by people of every faith and none - and we should be confident in standing up to defend them.

Cameron opposes this language of morality with “secular neutrality”. This surely means the generation of politicians after Alistair Campbell’s famous declaration that “We don’t do God”, and their constant, bland, meaningless assertion to be “doing the right thing” with little consideration as to what makes a thing right. Cameron himself is as guilty of overusing this lazy phrase as much as any of his colleagues. But if greater public discussion of faith means politicians talk more about “compassion, humilty and love”, this can only be an improvement.

It is worth emphasising that we are talking about how morality is publically discussed. Campbell uttered his famous phrase not because his boss, Tony Blair, was an atheist, but quite the reverse: he thought that if Blair talked about his deep faith, voters would be weirded out. The alternative, adhering in public to secular neutrality, has lead a vacuous political discourse. As well as being shallow, today’s political language is misleading, since politicians do not talk about what truly motivates them: is Cameron not being more honest that Blair by talking openly about his faith rather than hiding it? In doing so the aim is to encourage others, whether Christian or not, to do the same. This is where Cameron’s point that some Jews and Muslims, for example, find it easier to publically assert their religion in a society with an establish church opens out to include people of all faiths and none. By making a break with secular neutrality, assertive Christians open a space for others to do the same, and assert their own moral perspective, be it religious or secular.

This is quite a way from the BHA’s fears of “alienation and division”. I may have read too much of my own thought into what is essentially a piece by a Conservative politician designed in the main to reassure the unhappy right-wing of his party. But the BHA too have focused too much on the phrase ‘Christian country’, taking it as asserting the Britain is a religious monolith, whereas the rest of Cameron’s column is shot through with an awareness of pluralism, and a vision for how it might work that takes a far more interesting and open view of faith. I don't hold out much hope for David Cameron actually leading a charge to bring a new awareness of ethics to public debate. After all, as the one currently at the top of the pack, he would have most to lose from a change from the status quo. But if I've read him right, he sets out some interesting ideas, trying to marry the British Christian tradition to British multiculturalism. The BHA would be quite right to question whether a more assertive Christianity is the best way of achieving a greater moral awareness in British public life. In doing so, they would be entering into the very debate David Cameron (if I've read him right) intends to start.

This Blog is for Entertainment Purposes Only

Advertisers on YouTube must be a desperate and sorry lot, knowing that most people will click the ‘Skip Ad’ button after five seconds of their work. But recently, just as my mouse was by instinct hovering over the button during one such interruption to the traditional Sunday-afternoon pastime of ‘bumming around on YouTube’, the words ‘Indian astrologer’ made me pause. Why was an Indian astrologer advertising on YouTube? What had he to offer? I watched on, and was told that Prakash (for that was the name of this internet-savvy reader of the stars) is ‘the first and only Indian astrologer in Europe to hold an OFCOM Payplus licence for astrology’.

Now this got my attention. Ad men will tell you that some products sell themselves, but for me the idea that the earth’s motion relative to flaming balls of gas light-years distant can warn me to be careful in handling money next week is a tough sell. However, the idea that Ofcom, the British broadcasting regulator, was licensing astrologers was like catnip and I needed to know more. Perhaps this is because as a Leo I ‘love the new and extraordinary'’. Or perhaps it’s because it raises two important questions: 1) Why is Ofcom apparently in the business of licensing astrologers? and 2) What does it license them to do?

Prakash’s website only makes the possibilities more intriguing. It claims that, not only does he hold a licence from Ofcom, but that ‘this, in itself, warrants the creditability of his work and professional standing in the world of astrology.’ Does Ofcom keep some astrological rankings? Is there a board of official star-gazers, judging the quality of horoscopes cast by applicants? Is there an Ofcom official whose job it is to compare the horoscopes of his past week, and who awards a licence to the most accurate soothsayer? More prosaically, does the writer of the website mean ‘creditability’ in the sense of actual credibility, or just respectability? And which meaning does Ofcom use when handing out ‘Payplus licences for astrology’?

A dive into Ofcom licensing criteria and guidelines later, and it becomes clear that Prakash’s claims and insinuations are dubious at best, starting with the fact there appears to be no such thing as an ‘Ofcom Payplus licence’. Rather, Prakash presumably holds a Television Licensable Content Service (TCLS) licence, which allows him to produce content for various satellite and internet television stations, as well as his own PrakashTV. And here is where things get interesting, because, as Ofcom tells us ‘Adult chat, adult sex chat and psychic programming are categorised as teleshopping.’

Leaving aside the perplexing question of the difference between ‘adult sex chat’ and mere ‘adult chat’ (the latter presumably involving topics like council tax bands and how to cope with the inevitability of death), this means that Ofcom categorises astrology and the psychic arts solely as ‘direct offers to the public with a view to the supply of goods or services in return for payment’. Those wishing to broadcast their insights into the mystic connection between the mechanics of the stars and the vagaries of human fortune are helpfully referred to BCAP code rule 15.5.2.

The UK Code of Broadcast Advertising (devised by the Broadcast Committee of Advertising Practice, hence BCAP) may seem arcane even by the standards of occultists, but is the logical reference if astrological broadcasts are seen as a preliminary to swapping a service for money, and ipso facto advertising. Section 15 deals with ‘Faith, Religion and Equivalent Systems of Belief’, for all that it might shock the Vatican, say, or al-Azhar that astrology is an equivalent to their centuries of scholarly exploration of matters of faith, ethics, scripture and divinity.

Rule 15.5.2 states that television advertising for services ‘that rely on belief in astrology, horoscopes, tarot and derivative practices’ must state ‘that the product or service is for entertainment purposes only’. That is, if you are selling a service that ‘relies’ on people believing in the premise that the position of stars at your birth predict your future, you are required to tell them that any conclusions based on that (presumably sincerely-held) premise aren’t to be taken seriously.

Indeed, the BCAP code goes further and mandates that advertising allowed under this section may not ‘offer life-changing advice directed at individuals – including advice related to health (including pregnancy) or financial situation’ or  ‘predict negative experiences or specific events’. Are you? Then I’m afraid you can’t advertise the fact on TV; you’re caught on both points. Oh, and you’re not allowed to ‘make claims for effect and accuracy’. But as long as you’re happy presenting your hidden cosmic knowledge as an ‘alternative system of belief’ which is vague, just for fun, and has no chance of working, then broadcast away.

Interestingly, if you’re a psychic looking to preserve some shred of integrity (I will allow that these theoretically exist), then radio is a happier medium for, um, happy mediums. While TV adverts ‘must not promote psychic practices or practices relating to the occult’ (except as entertainment), radio advertisers are free to do so, as long as they as long as they don’t make any claims for its effectiveness. BCAP’s logic here is unclear. Perhaps they take the view that seeing is believing, and so any promotion of the occult on radio will just be treated by the public as background noise, one of those bits of radio that everyone unconsciously blocks out while listening to, like Quote, Unquote.

In case ‘psychic and occult-related practices’ sound too vague, BCAP helpfully provide a list: ‘ouija, satanism, casting of spells, palmistry, attempts to contact the dead, divination, clairvoyance, clairaudience, the invocation of spirits or demons and exorcism’ are all activities which cannot be promoted on television. If this didn’t already sound like some seventeen-century Puritan warily defining exactly what the Satanic Arts were so as to better protect his flock, Ofcom make the following clarification:

Ofcom considers that references to ‘spirit guides’ used by presenters are not in principle problematic under the BCAP Code. However the use of ‘spirit guides’ to promote indirectly or imply a prohibited psychic practice or practice related to the occult ... is likely to be unacceptable, for example using a ‘spirit guide’ as an apparent means of contacting a dead loved one of a viewer.     

For clarity, the use of a ‘spirit guide’ – which includes some supposed supernatural advisor of obscure, mythological or ancient provenance – is not, in Ofcom’s opinion, akin to communicating with the dead.

Now here Ofcom appears to be interpreting its remit to regulate communication rather widely, extending it beyond the electromagnetic spectrum to ectoplasmic spectres. It also means that if your spirit guide has the misfortune to be dead, then your career is sunk. There’s no discussion of how obscure or ancient provenance is separate from being dead, which is probably just as well, nor any of why, since the whole thing is ‘for entertainment purposes only’, there should be a prohibition on contacting the dead in the first place. Should the dead not be entertained, too? They could probably do with a laugh, poor dears.

Ofcom remains curiously undecided about the use of props, since ‘the BCAP Code does not explicitly state the range of props acceptable for use’, which given what we’ve seen of it so far is surprising (there’s a whole subsection dedicated to phone-based tarot readings). Undaunted, Ofcom gives its own suggested list of ‘chicken bones, tea leaves, crystal balls, rocks and pendulums’, which it reassures occultists ‘are not in principle problematic’. Unless, that is, they promote or ‘imply a prohibited psychic practice’. This seems somewhat paradoxical, since the whole point of a prop is to imply other things and, for a psychic, to make them look more credible. The sole purpose of a crystal ball is to imply that a fortune-teller is looking into some mysterious source of knowledge; otherwise they’d be left squinting mystically at nothing in particular, and would seem (shockingly) to be making the whole thing up. A physical object is needed to make the customer think the soothsayer is consulting some outside, objective force; whatever the business with the chicken bones is, it’s meant to be like an accountant checking the tax code, or a doctor with a blood test. For an occultist, if a prop doesn’t ‘imply a prohibited psychic practice’, it’s not much of a prop.

A similar paradox exists in BCAP’s prohibition of advertising which may ‘encourage excessive use’. Now, if the underlying premise is that these occult services are for entertainment purposes only, then how can any use be excessive? Who are BCAP to judge when my desire for divination-based entertainment is sated? Where, moreover, can the harm be in excessive ‘entertainment’, and so why should it be discouraged? Perhaps BCAP is seeking to stop people wasting time and money on frivolous entertainment so they can do something productive, but in that case the advertising of video-games and bingo would also be highly suspect, as would most of television itself and, indeed, the entire corpus of Western literature.

Really, of course, this is where BCAP’s insistence on ‘entertainment purposes only’ comes unstuck and is exposed as a fig leaf to balance consumer protection with free speech. They can’t stop people from believing in astrology, but nor can they allow people to make false claims in advertising. ‘Entertainment only’ is a good compromise in theory, but as the sections on excessive use and life-changing advice show, there are people who will take occult ‘services’ as more than entertainment, and who are open to exploitation.

This seems an appropriate point to come back to Prakash, who claims to be ‘the most trusted, learned and well-known astrologer in Europe’. From our exploration of Ofcom and BCAP, does his broadcasting license 'for astrology' warrant ‘the creditability of his work and professional standing in the world of astrology’?

Since the licence has nothing to do with the astrological ‘profession’ or any test of the ‘creditability’ of his work, then the short answer can only be no. Indeed, if he sincerely abides by the terms of the licence, he promotes astrology as an inexact, non-specific, unreliable entertainment. If professional astrologers believe in the truth of their art, they presumably think rather less of him.

All that an Ofcom licence ‘in itself’ guarantees is that he broadcasts according to the BCAP code, but sadly on that interesting question I am unqualified to comment, not least because Prakash broadcasts in Punjabi. His videos certainly open with the familiar disclaimer (in English) that the content is ‘for entertainment purposes only’. But in their guidance, Ofcom say:

‘it is not sufficient to rely only on on-screen text...The advertising as a whole must reflect this principle. The Code therefore does not permit the advertising of psychic services on any other basis: psychic readings cannot stray beyond the carefully circumscribed area of entertainment and should never be presented as reliable, substantiated or offering anything other than a form of entertainment.’

Now, Prakash’s website is by no means bound by the restrictions on his licensed broadcasting, but limited by language, it is all I can judge him on, and it certainly doesn’t conform to this.  Apart from anything else, the services offered are the very ‘life-changing advice’ Ofcom is so wary of: A ‘Master Life Chart’ offers ‘predictions, recommendations, astro solutions and precautions’ on health, education, relationships, careers, finance, wealth, family life, property, personality, and spirituality over the next 35 years. All this based on ‘Numerological analysis of your date of birth and name and analysis between your birth chart and date of birth and name’. If such things affect a person’s life so deeply for decades, expectant parents should game the system by inducing birth on propitious dates and choosing favourable names.

 ‘Marriage compatibility’ and ‘Business compatibility’ are also on offer. There may be businessmen or spouses who, ‘for entertainment purposes only’, want to test whether they are fated to be together, but that hardly seems like a large enough market to be worthwhile broadcasting to. How does one broach the subject? ‘Darling, I love you, but just for a laugh, let’s give money to a professional astrologer who’ll calculate whether we’re compatible. No, dear, he doesn’t claim it works. He’s not allowed to.’

Some indication of how far Parakash sees his work as entertainment can be gleaned from the section of his website in which he lays out what he expects from his clients:

·         Someone who whole-hearted believes in the science

·         Someone who respects the knowledge

·         Someone who listens and absorbs the guidance offered

·         Someone who is willing to make a difference and take on advice

·         Someone who wants to work with me to solve situations

That is, he wants someone who will see that he provides more than mere fun. Indeed, he lists 'an accurate reading' under the client's expectations. The terms and conditions, too, make clear that they expect customers to have a ‘particular belief ... that there may exist a relationship between astronomical phenomena and actual events allowing [Prakash] to explain negative and positive aspects of your persona and lifestyle linked to the positions of the sun, moon, and other planetary objects at the time of your birth.’ Rarely have astrologers made their own art sound so implausible.

It isn’t surprising that Prakash wants his customers to take him seriously, despite the restrictions of an Ofcom licence. For both practitioners and punters, there is little point in astrology if one does not see some truth in it. Ofcom and BCAP’s ‘entertainment only’ is a convenient way of avoiding judging this truth, but means that astrologers must find other ways of showing their credibility. Deprived under the terms of his licence from using props to imply ‘prohibited practices’, Prakash uses the licence itself, relying on his audience’s ignorance of what it actually is. What else would we expect of a man who claims that our fate is not in ourselves but in our stars?