When military might trumps native rights
If it hadn’t been for that rusty washbasin, we could have been learning about any tiny point in the middle of the ocean.
Expropriation. Deportation. Annexation. Words used to justify actions taken by a larger political entity towards a smaller, weaker one. Just look up the story of the Acadians, or the treatment of indigenous populations in pretty much every time and place. We’re able, after a couple of centuries, to find a way to rationalize things.
How about the question of most military bases here in Canada? After all, the land belonged to somebody before the gang in green showed up and put their endless fences in place. For the common good, we’re told, and in lieu of anything requiring conflict, we shrug it off. After all, defense is necessary.
This afternoon, though, I learned about a case of expropriation that happened only a few decades ago. A case of collusion between the British and the Americans, where a secret pact saw a complete nation rounded up and shipped away with a suitcase and not much else. The case of the Chagos Islands.
Every once in a while, the press will mention a remote military base called Diego Garcia. With a good map and a magnifying glass, you may find a speck in the massive ocean area between Africa and India. Search a bit more, and you’ll learn that the US Navy has a base there, far from their home ports, and that will be about all you’ll learn. This is a secret base.
Thalassa showed that the original inhabitants, the owners, if you will, are still very much alive and living poorly elsewhere on the planet. And like displaced persons everywhere else, they long to go home. Several years ago, a small group were allowed brief acces to their old village, long enough to maintain the old cemetery and leave. An afternoon, in a tropical paradise, soaked in tears.
The High Courts in Britain have refused to examine the case, and for the foreseeable future, the islands remain out of bounds.
