The equivalent would be the Tamil National Alliance (TNA) in Sri Lanka, which quite correctly is not proscribed. Not only is it not proscribed, but it has also participated in elections and those elections were held fairly swiftly after the end of the war. There were two rounds of elections – national parliamentary elections and municipal or local authority elections – and they have gone very well. In fact, the ruling coalition lost despite a heavy military presence in those areas. So you have the reopening of democratic space and the re-enfranchisement of the Tamil people in those areas. And they have, perhaps perfectly naturally, opted for the TNA which is really the main representative of Tamil nationalism in Sri Lanka. There is also a process of dialogue with the Government of Sri Lanka. However, that process has proved to be fretful and fraught. One of the reasons could be that the TNA, perhaps under the gun, was perceived as a fellow traveller of the Tigers and has so far chosen not to make any kind of self-criticism or an opened criticism of the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTTE). So just two years after the war, there is a hangover of memory and the atmosphere is really problematic. But there is at least an effort at dialogue, although it has not produced any kind of speedy progress. But the TNA is in Parliament and that is important. Elections have been held.

I ask you to bear in mind that we have many voices from Asian friends, gently urging and nudging us in the direction of ethnic reconciliation through reform, and I do not see this as a negative factor. However, on the issue of sovereignty and on the related issue of an international inquiry into the conduct of the war there are no pressures at all from any part of Asia. So I think Dr. Henry Kissinger was correct when, in his last book on China, he makes the point that though Westphalian sovereignty is no longer a touchstone in Europe, you have an almost classically Westphalian notion of sovereignty in Asia including Eurasia, from Russia onwards, and among Brazil, Russia, India, China and South Africa (BRICS), as well as in the global South as a whole.

I look at the issue of accountability primarily as a political scientist and from a comparative politics point of view. I am struck by the fact that what I consider to be an exemplary progressive democracy, Brazil, headed by Dilma Rousseff – who was herself a guerrilla and a political prisoner, tortured by the military junta – has only recently instituted a commission of inquiry into the conduct of the military junta from 1964 to 1988. In Argentina, we have known for a long time of the notorious torturer and executioner, the so-called Angel of Death and naval captain Astiz. And Astiz has been sentenced only now for the crimes that he has committed from 1976 to 1979. I could go on. When I look at Bangladesh, there is a commission of inquiry into the atrocities committed in 1971, four decades ago. And there are many societies which have moved from conflict to post-conflict society, and from authoritarian regimes to democracies, who have deliberately chosen not to open up the issue of accountability until a new generation and a new mentality has been formed.

In Sri Lanka you have a widely popular army, popular because it put an end to 30 years of suicide bombers. I really do not think that any democratically elected government is going to risk being the first in the world to open up the military to an international inquiry on the successful conclusion which is considered, by most of the citizenry, to be a liberation from terrorism. So I do believe that accountability is important. But I also do believe that universality works through the particular. And the particular which I refer to in South Asia is the stage of political development and the need to ensure that stability and democracy is not jeopardised, because democracy is always fragile. So I do believe that every society, as part of its sovereign right, decides on when it will confront certain issues of collective trauma and how. And I believe Sri Lanka is no different from these other societies.

Does Sri Lanka subscribe to universality of values? Yes but I will be honest enough to say that there is a problem. There are some of us who really adhere to belief in universality. Formally, the Sri Lankan state did, because it had signed up to so many conventions and was an active part of the UN system. But there is an ideological struggle going on as in every society. Societies in economic crisis have always this tendency to turn inwards, outwards and so on. So there are those who would say that universal values are just a disguise for the West and that societies need their own values.

The most important thing is that we are human beings; therefore, on deriving from the universality of the human condition, there are universal values which are the highest values. But we must be realistic enough to understand that there is unevenness. In the theoretical sense, we have to be aware of two major errors. One error is to deny universality and regard instead regional or local parochial cultural values as higher. This is an ongoing battle in my society. And another error is the lack of understanding that universality itself develops unevenly.

Ideally, one day, if the United Nations itself were made more democratic and representative, with more power to the General Assembly and more representation at the Security Council, then perhaps this would be easier to resolve. The debate usually polarizes between those who say no to national sovereignty and no to individual rights and those who say yes to national sovereignty and that individual rights are obsolete. But we return to the original Declaration of the Rights of Man and of the Citizen, Article 3 states that “all sovereignty flows from the nation.” So there you have almost a perfect synthesis and equilibrium of the rights of the citizens and the sovereignty of the nation. And we have lost that, theoretically and in practice. Can a citizenry exist without its constitution as a nation?

Photo Credits: AFP 

It has been a mere matter of weeks since America’s ostensible military “withdrawal” from Iraq, and yet talk of a new middle-eastern war seems to be growing in intensity. The ominous spectre of 2003 lingers, and the benefit of hindsight is overlooked.

The latest event of note involves the EU’s decision to adopt sanctions against Iran’s oil industry – a move that, according to an Iranian government spokesperson, will “definitely” result in the closure of the strategic Strait of Hormuz, through which an estimatnyed one-fifth of the world’s oil flows.

The trouble with this scenario is that if Iran does carry out its response (and you can never be quite sure), it crosses a “red line” publicly demarcated by US Defence Secretary Leon Panetta. This dramatically increases the prospect of military action by the US – with subsequent Iranian retaliation – and open warfare.

While the threat of Iran’s nuclear capacity is being talked up, the possibility, or even legality, of constructive diplomatic American discourse may be strangled by an unhelpful proposed legislation that has already been passed by the House of Representatives. The “Iran Threat Reduction Act” would effectively criminalise negotiations with Iran by any member of the American government, except in highly restricted circumstances. Many commentators see this as an alarming move of intent, despite it not yet having passed the senate.

Elsewhere, establishment journals feature articles extolling the virtues of regime change, whilst the Republican party Presidential frontrunners, influential Washington think tank figures, and the conservative press evince a keen appetite for war.

With such a severe stance issuing from familiar quarters, it may be salutary to review the nature of the threat posed by Iran’s nuclear program. The centrepiece of the emerging casus belli is the mentioned International Atomic Energy Agency [IAEA] report, released in November last year; it concluded that Iran is moving toward nuclear weapons capability – but stopped short of stating that this is Tehran’s goal.

That may sound concerning, but even the IAEA report itself is suspect according to Robert Kelley, former Director of the agency. Quoted in The Guardian this week, and by Seymour Hersh in the New Yorker last year, Kelley described the report’s findings as “old news,” which led him to speculate, “why [is] this same stuff now considered ‘new information’ by the same reporters” who covered such conclusions during his tenure?

Kelley added that a very significant amount of the material referenced in the IAEA paper was drawn from “a single source: a laptop… allegedly supplied to the IAEA by a Western intelligence agency, whose provenance could not be established.”

As Hersh also reported, a change in tone from the IAEA over Iran’s nuclear program appears to have coincided with a change at the top of the organisation. The new head, Yukiya Amano, who replaced the cautious Muhammad ElBaradei, was described in a Wikileaks released US diplomatic memo as being “solidly in the U.S. court on every strategic decision, from high-level personnel appointments to the handling of Iran’s alleged nuclear weapons program.” With this in mind, Hersh’s public conclusion that the IAEA report was a “political document” is hardly a radical conclusion.

With military action, the benefits of even the most clinical strikes on Iran are not convincing. Assuming it were a given that Iran was intent on acquiring a nuclear device, an attack would probably only delay its development and dramatically increase hostility, as Defence Secretary Panetta himself conceded last year.

With the stakes being so high and so much doubt in so many key areas – as well as eight terrible years of Iraq as testament to the folly of unnecessary recourse to preventative war – why does a conflict with Tehran still appear so inevitable?

Image from: http://www.cbc.ca/news/background/iran/nuclearprogram.html 

The highly contested nature of Kashmir since the partition of the Indian subcontinent has invariably scarred the people of the region. Caught between the political machinations of competing nations, the right of Kashmiris to self-determination has been subordinated through a relentless occupation of the land by Indian military forces. Maligned in much of the mainstream Indian press, Kashmir has been marginalised as a region of ‘problematic’ and ongoing ‘issues’ of national integrity. Behind such discourse however, Kashmiris endure denial of their most basic human rights and freedoms.

A whole generation of young people has known nothing but occupation: curfews, extrajudicial killings, unmarked graves, torture, and the widespread rape of Kashmiri women. The people of Kashmir however, have not been silenced. Resisting the dehumanisation wrought upon them, they continue to demand their inalienable rights.

Ali, a 22-year-old final year college student from Pampore town, regularly comes out to throw stones during anti-government protests in his neighbourhood. During the summer unrest of 2010, seven people were killed in his town. One was a teenage boy from his locality who was shot in the spine with a bullet. The left side of his body was paralysed and after struggling for a year, he passed away a few months ago at only 17.  “Their family had to spend all their money on his treatment,” Ali says. “But they refused to take any aid from the state government.”

Stone throwing in Kashmir has become a symbolic act of resistance but Ali says now it is difficult to pelt stones at the government forces in their area, as police authorities have kept a strong network of informers in all the localities. In the warped environment of occupation, allegiances are constantly realigned; “Now even before we decide to pelt stones, the police come to know about it”. The authorities employ drug addicts to gather information about stone pelters, in return for allowing them to freely continue their trade. “No drug addict was arrested by the police last year and they were allowed to sell drugs to the stone pelters during the summer unrest. In return police asked them to gather information.” Although this has raised the profile of many of the boys who routinely protest against the occupation of Kashmir, Ali says he will not hesitate in throwing stones in the future.

In his locality, Ali says with a chuckle, there is a little boy who is nicknamed “Chota Geelani (little Geelani)”. A fourth grader, Chota Geelani is a fierce stone pelter. “He is the youngest of the three brothers and all of them come out together during protests. The kid takes part in every protest demonstration in our area and is always at the front of the crowd. His arm is very strong and he can pelt stones with precision.” Last year the little boy was once reprimanded by a police officer while he was pelting stones. The police officer released him saying he was too little to be arrested, however, the very next day, the little boy was again on the same street, pelting stones and shouting pro-freedom slogans. The daily strife and injustices leave a tragic impression on even the youngest in society.

The diverse range of stone throwers in the Kashmir Valley includes boys from all walks of life. Shabir Ahmad, a 27-year old from South Kashmir’s Shopian district comes from a business family and runs a small clothes store. Clean-shaven and sporting trendy jeans, Shabir is a passionate stone pelter. He talks passionately about the idea of Azadi (freedom) he grew up with in his small neighborhood, where seven people have lost their lives in the past two decades of conflict. When he is pelting stones during protests, his form of protest is equally an act of remembrance for his lost people.

In 2010, his clothing store was closed during most of the summer months. Accompanied by other young men from his locality, on strike days, he would come out near the main street close to his store, and pelt stones at the government forces.

“Shopian district is an economically sound area. Ninety percent of the boys who come out on the streets to pelt stones here are educated,” says Shabir. Shopian district observed strike continuously for 54 days in 2009, while protesting against the “rape and murder” of two women in the town. “No one died of food scarcity during that strike period. We are a self-sufficient people and we can even survive strikes for two years,” he remarks confidently, pointing to the close sense of communal unity even in the face of violent crackdowns.

During the summer unrest of 2010, Shabir’s town arranged 25 trucks full of aid material for the people of Srinagar city, suffering under the imposition of harsh curfews. Carrying aid material, goods, vegetables and fruits, the trucks travelled to Srinagar and the aid was distributed to the affected areas facing severe shortages. “I myself collected items from my home. People gave funds without hesitation,” he says. “Even small kids gave their pocket money.”

“India can’t fool the world for long now. Projecting us as an illiterate, misguided youth is a blatant lie,” says Shabir, confident that a Kashmir free from Indian troops and bunkers on the streets will one day come to pass. “Even if India makes golden roads for us and employs everyone here, we don’t want it,” he says emphatically. “We want Azadi (freedom), and nothing else.”

Shabir is proud of the fact that his family has also taken part in pro-freedom protests from time to time. “At times even my father, my mother and sister come out to join protests on the streets,” he says.

“Hindustan ko yahan say nikalna hai,” he says in Urdu. “We have to expel the Indian state from here.” Ask him about the government claims of “return of normalcy” and ‘‘peace’’ in the valley, and Shabir mocks the claims, in poetic Urdu:

“Har aandhi kay baed Khamoshe ate hai, aur har khamoshe kay baed aandi”
(Before every storm there is a lull, and every lull is followed by a storm).

*The names in this article have been changed to protect identities.

Read Part One here.

Last Friday, 27 January, was designated by the United Nations as the International Holocaust Memorial Day. The date marks the liberation of the largest Nazi camp, Auschwitz, in 1945 by the Soviet troops. I attended an event to mark this occasion held at King’s College London earlier in the week, with one of the speakers, Ruth Barnett, a holocaust survivor. Having never heard a survivor speak before, I decided to attend, not thinking for a moment about my expectations of the event except for whether or not I’d actually learn something new.

Rabbi Gavin Broder, University Jewish Chaplain for London, introduced the event and echoed the fact that many of us demand an answer to the “why” behind the holocaust. There isn’t one. All we can reflect upon is that man is endowed with choice, and what we make of that choice is up to every one of us. To be reminded of one’s choice in the midst of all hell is, I believe, extremely positive.

We were shown a brief video about the holocaust and it felt as if part of my spirit jumped ship, determined to drag through the words and photos shown to us. A tale of a metamorphosis; happy smiling people slowly deformed into stick like characters. The piles of dead bodies, others shoved into furnaces, with a backdrop of slow and sad violins, completely stunned me. They don’t show you these photos in school, but without these, how can one even start to comprehend the horror of this event? For a moment, I felt as if this was my family, and I understood why many Jewish people feel so passionately about this event. Sometimes words fail us, but pictures like these cannot lie. They are a reminder of what we are all capable of, and the choices we make. I tried my best not to cry, not wanting to appear naïve, but there would have been nothing childish about crying.

After this video, students from a range of faiths were invited to say a piece and then light a candle. As a Zoroastrian, I spoke about the prophet and the questions he had for Ahura Mazda. He asked why there was injustice and evil in the world; the response was that: “Mankind makes its choice, and, likewise, chooses the Best or Worst, in Thought, Word and Deed.” Students also commemorated others who were killed: gypsies, the disabled, blacks, as well as victims of more recent genocides. This was not just about the Jews – it was, and continues to be, about anyone who is deemed “unworthy”.

Ruth Barnett spoke next. She is an incredibly strong, sharp, and rather young-looking lady. She told us of her life as a child, how she was lucky enough to be on the kindertransport, how she had been moved from various foster homes and how this had affected her. However, it was a surprisingly positive conclusion. She explained how she had spent the last ten years or so visiting schools and other community groups, teaching children about the holocaust and how important it is that we do not forget our history. Beyond the expectations we have of a victim of such an atrocity, she actually tried to teach us that after the wounds have had time to heal, they should not deter you from doing great things.

Two key themes that ran throughout the evening were the importance of speaking out, and the ability to strive to live life fully. When we really assess the world that we live in, there are thousands of people without clean water or shelter, who face ongoing persecution. We have a duty to speak out for them, if only because at the end, there will be no one left to speak out for us. Moreover, taking life for granted is a mistake – but again, this is down to the choices we make.

I was truly honoured to attend and take part in this commemoration, something I chose to do. You, too, must make a choice in paying respect to the world that you live in, and question whether events are acceptable to yourself, your family and your community.

Image from: http://www.sanfranciscosentinel.com/?p=105710

Hajj: Journey to the heart of Islam

Last week the British Museum opened the doors of its new exhibition “Hajj Journey to the Heart of Islam” to the public. Of course, some glaring questions came to mind prior to visiting the exhibition. How could anyone curate an exhibition focusing on a religious ritual – and, really, what’s the point?

Observing a ritual and being part of it are two completely distinct experiences. Although we might be able to speculate, analyse and interpret the meaning of rituals, we cannot grasp their significance to believers unless we experience them ourselves. And a museum is hardly an ideal setting for understanding a grand, cultural and religious phenomenon such as the Hajj.

By their very nature, museums set things apart and create a glaring detachment between the observer and the observed. Walking about an exhibition of ancient Egyptian artefacts, for example, inspires awe and wonderment rather than understanding, hardly granting an insight into the ancient civilisation on show. I’ve always felt that placing an object in a museum says more about the object’s significance to our own society, rather than the society which produced it.

Given that an exhibition of a religious ritual seemed so counter intuitive, I was pleasantly surprised by the innovative way in which the British Museum presented it. Venetia porter, the curator, explained that the exhibition was arranged according to three themes; the pilgrim’s journey to Mecca, the pilgrim’s stay in the holy city, and the return home. Arranging items this way meant that each section of the exhibition was a true mishmash of the medieval and modern.

While this might sound awkward, I couldn’t think of a better way to showcase the Hajj. The Journey to Mecca and back in itself is part of the religious experience. The influence of this aspect of the Hajj cannot be stressed enough. For example, it is because of the Hajj that very soon after the rise of Islam, travel writings developed into such a great literary genre in the Muslim world. The exhibition effectively highlights this. We are often presented with an image of religious rituals as performances which remain overly convoluted and stagnant, never evolving with time.

The exhibition therefore, makes an important point: while the rituals and obligations of the Hajj remain unchanged since the Medieval period, the ways in which pilgrims experience this journey has changed dramatically. From Medieval compasses to colonial prayer guides and to present day road signs and airplanes, the Hajj has never ceased to evolve. The viewer grasps a sense of the Hajj as a dynamic phenomenon and not something rigid which belongs in history. In fact I only ever seem to hear about the Hajj from the popular media when a stampede takes place and tragedy is involved.

This layout of the exhibition was accompanied by an impressive use of sound which helped make the experience that much more intimate. Prior to entering the space, as you walk through a narrow corridor, the chanting of the Talbiyya is heard, this is part of the prayer which Muslims recite before setting out for the Hajj journey. Within the exhibition itself the Azhan (Muslim call to prayer) can be heard faintly in the distance. And finally, just before leaving the exhibition, there is a quiet little corner in place for people to sit and listen to British Muslims’ accounts of their own Hajj experiences. This clever use of sound which mirrors the journey and return from Mecca helps museum-goers understand the experience a little more.

The link between Britain and the Hajj is not only explored by these British Muslims. The exhibition is scattered with British experiences of Hajj from items which reveal how Thomas Cook was responsible for organising ships to Mecca in the colonial period, to letters written by the first ever British woman to perform the Hajj in the year 1933, Lady Evelyn Cobbold. This demonstrated just how involved Britain was with this seemingly distant and mysterious ritual.

Personal accounts such as these are found throughout the exhibition floor and yet another intriguing addition comes in the form of modern works of art such as Ahmed Mater’s ‘Magnetism’ and Idris Khan’s ‘Seven Times.’ The works highlight the ways in which the Hajj continues to influence discourse, collective imagination and creativity today.

The British Museum has also produced a fascinating publication on the Hajj. Written by some of the leading academics and writers on Islam such as Professor Hugh Kennedy, Karen Armstrong and Professor M.A.S Abdel Haleem, this publication is not to be easily dismissed. Not only does it discuss key aspects of the ritual which the exhibition may not touch on, such as the political significance of the Hajj, it also provides a reference to some of the fascinating objects on display, including Lady Cobbold’s letter to her grandson. The book and the glossy images are undoubtedly gorgeous. So, if for some incomprehensible reason you’re not interested in what the academics have to say, there’s always the aesthetics.

If you’re looking for an experience which helps approach the various aspects of the Hajj in a number interesting ways, this exhibition will surely not disappoint. But for actually knowing what the Hajj is or what it feels like, you’d probably be better off booking a flight to Saudi Arabia. Still, exploring the Hajj comes as a welcome addition to public discourse at a time when Islamic rituals are portrayed so negatively by the media. The British Museum should be commended for its efforts to generate cultural understanding.

Hajj: journey to the heart of Islam is open 26 January – 15 April 2012

Gallery

Photo Credits: Rukia Begum
Exclusively for The Platform

Ireland is known by many  as the home of the craic, the blarney and roguish poets, and while even the most ardent Irishman would entertain the idea of wearing a leprechaun hat on Saint Patrick’s Day, the Emerald Isle is much more than the stereotypes associated with the Celtic partyland of popular culture. Nor does the true Ireland conform to the darker side of its typecasting, as a shadowy land of drunks, violent men in balaclavas, and a culture based upon the currency of potatoes, sheep and oppressive religious figures.

In order to understand the real Ireland, one must first appreciate the reasons behind the labelling and acknowledge the factual elements within, before proceeding to unravel the complexities surrounding Irish culture and history. Only then will the disseminated pieces allow for a proper reconstruction.

But there is a hindrance, and not only from the outside world.

In the northeast corner of the island, 30 years of troubles have cast Northern Ireland as an unstable hellhole of political dogma and hard social division. Suspicion and tension still preside on both sides of the debate, while an overwhelming number of unaffiliated parties resolutely focus on the isolated disparity. And this exists regardless of the fact that things have greatly improved since the dark days of the 1970s and 80s. What remains is a tragic lack of a single voice, where sporadic terrorist attacks putrefy within the void.

By contrast, the prevailing consciousness outside the island is one of misapprehension manifested in slurs and an approach that some argue flirts with racism in an all too acceptable fashion. ‘Paddy’ has become a name synonymous with idiotic buffoonery, the ancient symbolism of the shamrock desecrated, and the history of the island projected through the veil of conquest. The problem is that it is neither localised nor restricted to everyday social banter. In February 2010, the journalist and then Director of the Centre for Social Cohesion, Douglas Murray, posted a reactionary, and some argued anti-Irish opinion piece, in the Daily Telegraph blog that prompted readers to post derogatory jokes in response.

Across the Atlantic, New York Mayor Michael Bloomberg came under criticism for his alcohol-centred treatment of Saint Patrick’s Day, while in July 2011, London’s Deputy Mayor for Equalities, Richard Barnes, when discussing the cost of redesigning Euston Station, queried, ‘are they like most Irish builders, saying that it’s going to be “roughly that”?’

In 2006, The Irish Times criticised the prison newspaper, Inside Times, for printing a series of anti-Irish jokes in two consecutive editions, despite complaints being made.

The most damning example were the views expressed in the Guardian by Julie Burchill, who linked the Irish to fascism and child abuse, while commenting on the supposed ‘almost compulsory child molestation by the national church, total discrimination against women who wish to be priests, aiding and abetting Herr Hitler in his hour of need and outlawing abortion and divorce.’

This is not to say that the Irish are unable to laugh at themselves, but the humour such as that popularised by ‘Father Ted’ and ‘Give My Head Peace’ must be properly understood; it is dark comedy that exists  as an intelligent response to detractors and so must be viewed with that in mind.

In the light of this climate, it is time to challenge the misconceptions. Broken down into its basic, but by no means comprehensive components, modern Ireland can be presented in three distinct, but closely related personalities: the independent and progressive Eurozone of the Republic; the closely guarded, but highly colourful North, forever uncertain of its prescribed Westminster governance; and the shared history of scholarly prowess, accomplished artistry and globally celebrated hospitality. To an outside mind, therefore, Ireland is a complex affair and one which understandably lends itself to the simplifying process of caricature. The resulting impression of Ireland, once the balance is struck, is a land of joviality undermined by internal dispute, and due to its restrained global presence, one that can be affectionately patronised.

And herein lies the problem; the uneasy relationship behind Ireland, the Industry and Ireland the Island.

Ireland the Industry is the cartoon of Ireland, embodied in the palatable, plastic Paddy with his slow-poured Guinness, wooden pipe and flat cap. He is a jolly figure, whose friendliness is interpreted as idiocy, and his regional focus as charmingly backward. Such is the force of this prescription that Ireland has been reduced to making an industry out of the caricature, a desperate measure for a desperate situation. But this must not be interpreted as acceptance, for the pragmatist is not unfamiliar with the realist.

Ireland the Island is the proud, but brow-beaten, alter-ego of Ireland the Industry. It realises the issues that have cloaked its counterpart, and constantly battles with the problems involved. It understands that it cannot change the populist perspective of Ireland, but rather wishes to inform outsiders, and invites them to experience the real Ireland. The vibrant revival of the Irish language and celebration of Irish music, dance and arts in all forms should be acknowledged as they are things that, in theory, should be championed across the four provinces. This camp also celebrates positive treatments of the island, pointing to events such as the visit of Queen Elizabeth II in 2011, the fine historical and social commentary on the island, and the increasing efforts to effectively console the North, rebuilding relations between the communities through a celebration of cultural assets they hold as part of a common heritage as people of this island.

This article does not wish to advocate external censorship or excessive political correctness, but to consider whether the concept of plastic paddies and bar brawls is as true a reflection of Ireland, just as the painting of other nationalities by their prescribed stereotypes. Instead, consider this an invitation for both inhabitants of the island and outsiders alike to reconsider Ireland without the lazy cloak of prejudice, and to form a sustainable and fair impression of Ireland that future generations can be proud of.

Image from: http://gawker.com/5783121/stop-pretending-like-you-care-about-st-patricks-day

In school I always excelled in mathematics and art. It may sound like a strange combination but for me mathematics is very creative; you start with a problem that seems impossible to tackle, then you take all the information around it, shuffle it about until it looks pretty, and you finally get to a solution. I managed to adapt these skills into the business world where you constantly need to be able to deal with unfamiliar problems. It’s a rough road!

I reached a point when I knew it was time. Time to really focus on something before getting tied up with a family and life in general. I wanted to start my own business since I love working and am constantly thinking of ideas. It even keeps me up at night! It didn’t make sense to waste all that energy and effort on someone else’s company.

The idea for my business, Arganic, came about when a family friend was raving about argan oil and mentioned she couldn’t find it in the UK.  I looked it up and found it very intriguing. I had to find out more about this ‘liquid gold of Morocco’.  I called a few friends out there and arranged my first trip. It was love at first taste! The nutty oil was delicious and the story behind it even better. The argan tree grows in the South West of Morocco only and can be found nowhere else in the world.  It takes approximately 15 hours and 30kg of fruit to produce just one litre. The process involves handwork and techniques that have been passed down among the Berber people for generations. It gets even better because the production of the oil provides jobs for poor and uneducated women; it gives them a chance at independence.

So how to start? There I was, young and inexperienced in business, only going by the fact that I knew I was on to a great idea and I was willing to work hard. I came across the Portobello Business Centre and they put me through to a business advisor. While I was carried away writing my recipe book, he brought me back to reality and showed me where to start. I had to get the tedious legal issues out of the way and check that I was indeed allowed to bring the product into the country. We met about once a month and each time we set new milestones. It’s amazing how many free services there are available in the UK; business related events, courses, and seminars. I made the most of them. The trick is to come up with a plan and then break it down into small tasks. I’d aim to get one ‘big’ thing done each week.  I also worked part-time at the beginning to pay for my start-up costs.

Arganic currently supply argan oil to small independent delis, restaurants, and we also supply our raw untoasted argan oil to the cosmetic industry, where it is used for its anti-ageing and conditioning properties. We have a recipe book in the pipeline and will eventually expand our range of products to some unique and exciting cooking treats.

My top tips for a young person thinking about starting a business:

1.    Impossible is nothing - You just need to look around you to realise that.

2.    Take advantage of the free services available in the UK - You’d be silly not to. In London I recommend organisations like the Portobello Business Centre or equivalent in your area. Also the British Library has a business centre and run lots of free seminars.

3.    Listen as well as ignore - Listen to the people you look up to and those who have achieved their own success. Experience is priceless and as a young entrepreneur you need to make sure you learn from them. On the flipside there will be people not on your wavelength, intimidated by your courage, or dwelling in their own failure. These people will keep telling you to get a ‘proper’ job or say things like, you need to gain years of experience working for someone first, or you need an unlimited supply of money to start. Go with your gut instinct and if you feel you are on to something good ignore, ignore, ignore!

4.    Get a part-time job – Unless you have access to a wad of cash. It also keeps you from moping around at the beginning.

5.    It’s all about networking - Attend events, mingle with people in your industry, and have an elevator pitch. Knowing the right person can help things move on much quicker. Also keeping yourself around fellow entrepreneurs on a regular basis will keep you motivated and remind you why you are doing what you are doing.

6.    Protect your ideas - Check that your business name is not already someone else’s trademark, and make sure to protect your company by getting one. The Intellectual Property Office and British Library IP Centre can offer advice on this.

7.    Tweet away – Twitter is a very useful tool for business once you get the hang of it. I have been given business tips by Levi Roots, and have managed to attract the attention of other big names like Jamie Oliver who currently follows Arganic’s Twitter profile.

8.    Know yourself - It takes a certain type of person to flourish as an entrepreneur. Make sure you are doing it for the right reasons. It is not as glamorous as it is often portrayed.

9.  Stop and enjoy - Someone once told me the best thing about being an entrepreneur is that ‘you get to choose which 16 hours a day to work’! It gets tough but you are allowed to take some time out once in a while and enjoy the journey; you must, otherwise what’s the point?

You also have to depend on yourself so your health and wellbeing is very important.

So far my Arganic journey has been exciting, daunting, fun, exhausting, with the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. It is pretty surreal watching ideas come to life.  We have a documentary and some other exciting things planned for 2012, and one thing is for sure – there is no going back!

Those with questions, or looking for advice based on Dana’s experience so far, can leave a comment below which she will endeavour to respond to. Dana has been nominated for the Best in Britain Start Up award at The Great Exhibition. If a “Great” has reached 100 votes by Wed 1 Feb it is automatically entered into the competition. She will also be speaking at The Future of Fashion Uncovered event held at at Westminster Reference Library on Thu 9 Feb, 6.00pm – 8.30pm. This event is free and open to all. To book a place, email: bip@westminster.gov.uk or telephone 020 7641 5250.