[Reader-list] More of Sea Piracy
Jeebesh
jeebesh at sarai.net
Tue Jan 6 18:58:30 IST 2009
dear All,
Following on Sanjay's post on the somialian pirates, i am mailing a
series of readings on the same.
warmly
Jeebesh
"The Floating Dungeon: A History of the Slave Ship"
To find the ghost and let them live again Marcus Rediker
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8I2xGTXB8tc&NR=1
Off the coast of Somalia: 'We're not pirates. These are our waters,
not theirs'
http://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/africa/off-the-coast-of-somalia-were-not-pirates-these-are-our-waters-not-theirs-1017962.html
To foreign ships, they're a scourge but Daniel Howden and Abdinasir
Mohamed Guled discover that Somalia's pirates see things very
differently
Friday, 14 November 2008
Two boats from HMS Cumberland intercept a suspected pirate vessel in
the Gulf of Aden after Russian and British forces repelled an attack
on a cargo ship
When Bile Wadani is not counting his money, he counts his wives. So
far he has three – but he promises there will be more to come. "I
didn't ever dream I would marry three wives but I have that dream now
because I can get as much money as I want."
As he speaks, waves can be heard crashing in the background. Bile is
speaking by mobile telephone from the deck of a captured ship
somewhere off the mountainous coast of northern Somalia, near the tip
of the Horn of Africa. His words are interrupted by the crackle of
gunfire.
Bile will not reveal his exact location or identify the captured
vessel as he claims he is being hunted by foreign warships.
He is one of the new generation of pirates who have turned the Gulf of
Aden into the most dangerous shipping lane in the world. The success
of their rough and ready tactics has been such that insurers are
warning that shipowners may have to use alternative routes, which
would have tremendous ramifications for global trade and commodity
prices.
International governments are committing millions of pounds to
fighting the pirates. The Royal Navy's HMS Cumberland joined forces
with a Russian frigate to kill three pirates as they attempted to
seize a Danish vessel in the latest incident on Tuesday.
Despite the fact that warships from Denmark, France, Russia, Japan and
the US have joined the Royal Navy in patrolling the gulf, little
attention has been paid to the roots of the problem.
Both the risks and the rewards of Bile's chosen career are colossal.
And along with an increasing number of his compatriots in the anarchy
of Somalia, he has chosen to embrace them. The lure of vast sums of
money is transforming the coast of this country and turning the
pirates into the heroes of a shattered land.
Millions of dollars in ransoms are being paid by desperate ship owners
– an estimated $30m (£20.5m) so far this year. That is one and a half
times the annual budget for authorities in the northern region of
Puntland. One captured vessel can fetch up to $2m.
The epicentre of this piracy is the port town of Eyl, in the Nugal
region. It is off limits to the outside world, a safe haven for the
pirates and a base for their attacks. It now functions, according to
residents, almost completely on the proceeds from piracy.
Much of the rest of Somalia has been destroyed by the seemingly
endless wars that have washed across the country in the two decades
since it last had a functioning government. The capital, Mogadishu,
lies mostly in ruins.
In Eyl, the streets are lined with new buildings and awash with
Landcruisers, laptops, satellite phones and global positioning systems.
Almost everyone in Eyl has a relative or husband among the pirates.
Fatima Yusuf, who has lived her whole life in Eyl, describes the
intense involvement of the whole community in the fortunes of the
young men who set out in crews of seven or eight armed with AK-47s and
rocket launchers to take on the tankers on the high seas.
The planning is rigorous, Bile insists: "When we want to kidnap a
ship, we go with not more than six or seven men because we don't want
to be a mob, this is a military tactic."
Fatima says the people will gather to pray for the pirates and that
when they set sail sacrifices are made in traditional ceremonies where
a goat will be slaughtered, its throat cut."
An industry has grown up around the pirates, with restaurants to feed
the kidnapped crews who as potentially tradable assets must be looked
after. The pirates have become glamorous figures. Like most of the
girls in Eyl, Sadiya Samatar Haji wants to marry a pirate. "I'm not
taking no for an answer," she says. "I'll tie the knot with a pirate
man because I'll get to live in a good house with good money."
Twelve-year-old Mohamed Bishar Adle, in nearby Garowe, the regional
capital of Puntland, knows what he wants to do with his education.
"When I finish high school, I will be a pirate man, I will work for my
family and will get more money."
Beyond the bravado, Bile acknowledges that the danger is increasing.
He will not say how many attacks he has participated in but he does
claim to have been one of the pirates who clashed with French forces
in April this year after the capture and ransom of a luxury yacht.
French commandoes pursued a band of Somali pirates en route to Eyl
after a ransom had been paid. Bile says nine of his compatriots were
taken and that only he and one other friend were able to escape. Six
of those caught face prosecution in Paris after being transferred to
France.
He also remembers the terror of his first mission. "You don't know if
it's a warship. You have to open fire and if it doesn't respond you
know."
Bile did not grow up dreaming of being a pirate. He comes from a
family of fishermen whose livelihood was destroyed, he says, by the
arrival of industrial trawlers from Europe.
At some 3,300 kilometres, Somalia has the longest coastline in Africa.
With a fertile upswelling where the ocean reaches Africa's Horn, the
seas are rich in tuna, swordfish and shark, as well as coastal beds of
lobster and valuable shrimp.
With the overthrow of Siad Barre's government in 1991, the territorial
waters off Somalia became a free-for-all. Trawlers from more than 16
different nations were recorded within its waters – many of them
armed. EU vessels flying flags of convenience cut deals with the
illegitimate authorities in Somalia, according to UN investigators.
Clashes between large, foreign fishing interests and Somali fishermen
in the late 1990s were the prelude to the upsurge in piracy.
Bile, like many of the pirates, calls himself a "coastguard" and
insists he has more right to these contested seas than the foreign
forces now patrolling them. He says many of his friends' boats were
destroyed in these battles and stocks of a fish known locally as
"yumbi" have all but disappeared.
Like many in Somalia, Bile is angry that outside powers are seeking a
military solution to a more complex problem. He rejects the tag of
"terrorist" and denies links to Islamic militias, like the Al-Shabab,
which are in control of large areas of Somalia. He insists that the
pirates would not give "one AK-47" to the Islamists.
While admitting that the influx of foreign navies is making his life
more dangerous, he remains defiant: "We will keep carrying out
attacks. We are ready for long distance attacks as far as the coast of
Yemen."
Pirates Turn Villages Into Boomtowns
By MOHAMED OLAD HASSAN and ELIZABETH KENNEDY
http://news.aol.com/article/pirates-turn-villages-into-boomtowns/253992
AP
MOGADISHU, Somalia (Nov. 19) - Somalia's increasingly brazen pirates
are building sprawling stone houses, cruising in luxury cars, marrying
beautiful women — even hiring caterers to prepare Western-style food
for their hostages.
And in an impoverished country where every public institution has
crumbled, they have become heroes in the steamy coastal dens they
operate from because they are the only real business in town.
Armed pirates guard a beach Oct. 16 in Hobyo, Somalia. Piracy is on
the rise on Somalia, a result of the nation's extreme poverty and
unstable government. Pirates have pumped $30 million into Somalia's
economy this year, thanks to ransoms that owners pay to get their
ships back.
"The pirates depend on us, and we benefit from them," said Sahra Sheik
Dahir, a shop owner in Haradhere, the nearest village to where a
hijacked Saudi Arabian supertanker carrying $100 million in crude was
anchored Wednesday.
These boomtowns are all the more shocking in light of Somalia's
violence and poverty: Radical Islamists control most of the country's
south, meting out lashings and stonings for accused criminals. There
has been no effective central government in nearly 20 years, plunging
this arid African country into chaos.
Life expectancy is just 46 years; a quarter of children die before
they reach 5.
But in northern coastal towns like Haradhere, Eyl and Bossaso, the
pirate economy is thriving thanks to the money pouring in from pirate
ransoms that have reached $30 million this year alone.
"There are more shops and business is booming because of the piracy,"
said Sugule Dahir, who runs a clothing shop in Eyl. "Internet cafes
and telephone shops have opened, and people are just happier than
before."
In Haradhere, residents came out in droves to celebrate as the looming
oil ship came into focus this week off the country's lawless coast.
Businessmen gathered cigarettes, food and cold bottles of orange soda,
setting up kiosks for the pirates who come to shore to resupply almost
daily.
Dahir said she even started a layaway plan for them.
"They always take things without paying and we put them into the book
of debts," she told The Associated Press in a telephone interview.
"Later, when they get the ransom money, they pay us a lot."
Residents make sure the pirates are well-stocked in khat, a popular
narcotic leaf, and aren't afraid to gouge a bit when it comes to the
pirates' deep pockets.
Dangerous Waters
Tian Yu 8: In this photograph supplied by the U.S. Navy, Somali
pirates hold the crew of a Chinese fishing vessel hostage as the ship
passes through the Indian Ocean on Nov. 17. The ship was seized Nov.
16 and was forced to anchor off the Somali coast.
"I can buy a packet of cigarettes for about $1 but I will charge the
pirate $1.30," said Abdulqadir Omar, an Eyl resident.
While pirate villages used to have houses made of corrugated iron
sheets, now, there are stately looking homes made of sturdy, white
stones.
"Regardless of how the money is coming in, legally or illegally, I can
say it has started a life in our town," said Shamso Moalim, a 36-year-
old mother of five in Haradhere.
"Our children are not worrying about food now, and they go to Islamic
schools in the morning and play soccer in the afternoon. They are
happy."
The attackers generally treat their hostages well in anticipation of a
big payday, hiring caterers on shore to cook spaghetti, grilled fish
and roasted meat that will appeal to Western palates.
Somali Pirates Strike Again
Pirates hijacked another cargo ship the coast of Somalia making it the
7th ship to be hijacked in less than two weeks. Shelia MacVicar reports.
And when the payday comes, the money sometimes literally falls from
the sky.
Pirates say the ransom arrives in burlap sacks, sometimes dropped from
buzzing helicopters, or in waterproof suitcases loaded onto skiffs in
the roiling, shark-infested sea.
"The oldest man on the ship always takes the responsibility of
collecting the money, because we see it as very risky, and he gets
some extra payment for his service later," Aden Yusuf, a pirate in
Eyl, told AP over VHF radio.
The pirates use money-counting machines — the same technology seen at
foreign exchange bureaus worldwide — to ensure the cash is real. All
payments are done in cash because Somalia has no functioning banking
system.
"Getting this equipment is easy for us, we have business connections
with people in Dubai, Nairobi, Djibouti and other areas," Yusuf said.
"So we send them money and they send us what we want."
Despite a beefed-up international presence, the pirates continue to
seize ships, moving further out to sea and demanding ever-larger
ransoms. The pirates operate mostly from the semiautonomous Puntland
region, where local lawmakers have been accused of helping them and
taking a cut of the ransoms.
For the most part, however, the regional officials say they have no
power to stop piracy.
Meanwhile, towns that once were eroded by years of poverty and chaos
are now bustling with restaurants, Land Cruisers and Internet cafes.
Residents also use their gains to buy generators — allowing full days
of electricity, once an unimaginable luxury in Somalia.
There are no reliable estimates of the number of pirates operating in
Somalia, but they number in the thousands. And though the bandits do
sometimes get nabbed, piracy is generally considered a sure bet to a
better life.
NATO and the U.S. Navy say they can't be everywhere, and American
officials are urging ships to hire private security. Warships
patrolling off Somalia have succeeded in stopping some pirate attacks.
But military assaults to wrest back a ship are highly risky and, up to
now, uncommon.
Associated Press writers Mohamed Olad Hassan reported from Mogadishu
and Elizabeth Kennedy from Nairobi, Kenya.
Copyright 2008 The Associated Press. The information contained in the
AP news report may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or otherwise
distributed without the prior written authority of The Associated
Press. Active hyperlinks have been inserted by AOL.
2008-11-19 10:24:20
ALSO SEE: The Politics of Pirates (Should Johnny Depp be a Founding
Father?)
http://engagepodcast.blogspot.com/2008/05/politics-of-pirates-should-johnny-depp.html
VIDEO ON PETER LINEBAUGH
Magna Carta Manifesto 1 of 8
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EDg2p3krPKQ&feature=related
"The Floating Dungeon: A History of the Slave Ship"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8I2xGTXB8tc&NR=1
Democratic Pirates
The History of Decapitating Commoners
by Nic Veroli
From the Oct 11 – Oct 17, 2001 issue
The Many-Headed Hydra: Sailors, Slaves, Commoners, and the Hidden
History of the Revolutionary Atlantic by Peter Linebaugh and Markus
Rediker
(Beacon Press) $18
The history of the movement against neoliberal globalization did not
start in 1999 in Seattle. It did not even start on January 1, 1994,
that legendary day when "subcommandante insurgente" Marcos led an army
of Zapatista indios down the slopes of Chiapas' mountains into battle
against the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA). No, the war
on neoliberal globalization began much earlier--on the afternoon of
July 25, 1609, on an English ship.
Such is the thesis of Peter Linebaugh and Markus Rediker, probably two
of the most daring American historians writing today. Their new book
chronicles the history of the first two centuries in the history of
what they call "the Atlantic working class," from the birth of
capitalism in the early 17th century to the aftermath of the American
and French revolutions in the early 18th and 19th centuries. That is
the "many-headed hydra" they invoke: a planetary monster with
innumerable heads in all parts of the world, linked together by a
diaphanous, almost intangible trunk.
According to Linebaugh and Rediker, the revolt against capitalist
globalization begins not simply as a struggle against property-title-
clutching aristocrats, who in early modern times were trying to
privatize lands held in common by English peasants. With a far more
cosmopolitan vision than even Karl Marx, they argue that this revolt
was also immediately global in scope, the product of transatlantic
coalitions between European commoners, African slaves, and Native
American societies.
The different constituencies were often brought together and kept in
contact with each other by ethnically heterogenous crews of sailors,
who glided from one end of the world to the other on ships that
recalled a prison chain gang rather than merry shipmates. Those
sailors frequently mutinied, threw their officers overboard, or worse,
and joyfully converted to the faith of the pirate: Eat well, drink
well, and above all, make decisions on every aspect of life "in
common" or, as we would say today, democratically.
You'll have to read the book to find out what happened on that famous
afternoon in July, 1609. Suffice it to say that neither then nor
afterward did things always go smoothly for this "many-headed hydra"
of a revolt. Indeed, the name itself was bestowed upon this multi-
ethnic assemblage of peoples by elite intellectuals such as Francis
Bacon and Walter Raleigh, who eagerly counseled their lords to
decapitate the hydra whenever it reared one of its ugly heads.
Apparently, then as now, these intellectuals were unaware of the
mythical hydra's magical property: If ever one of its heads is cut
off, it regenerates itself almost immediately.
Today, the hydra is again under attack. The Republicans in the White
House, on Capitol Hill, and in the various right-wing think tanks are
out to get the democratic hydra. Taking advantage of the recent
terrorist attacks--acts which speak as much of the twistedness of its
perpetrators as they do of the desperation of hundreds of millions of
dispossessed peoples around the world--these stone-hearted crocodiles
are using the shock and grief of many of us here in the States to put
forward an agenda that surpasses in folly even the most obnoxious
fantasies of Dr. Strangelove. In less than a month, conservatives have
managed to take back the lead in defining the issues on the public
agenda. From talking about the sweatshops, unemployment, and the
consequences of a recession for working people, we have all been
brought into dismal speculations on the possibility of World War III,
how many of our civil liberties we'd have to give up for "security" at
home, and the effects of the recession on the wealthy.
But neither a war abroad nor more police at home is going to make the
problem go away: Global environmental degradation and poverty are not
made better by uranium-depleted bullets or more phone taps.
So has the anti-capitalist hydra been decapitated in one fell swoop?
No, for as Linebaugh and Rediker put it: "The globalizing powers have
a long reach and endless patience. Yet the planetary wanderers do not
forget, and they are ever ready from Africa to the Caribbean to
Seattle to resist slavery and restore the commons."
The history of the movement against neoliberal globalization did not
start in 1999 in Seattle. It did not even start on January 1, 1994,
that legendary day when "subcommandante insurgente" Marcos led an army
of Zapatista indios down the slopes of Chiapas' mountains into battle
against the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA). No, the war
on neoliberal globalization began much earlier--on the afternoon of
July 25, 1609, on an English ship.
Such is the thesis of Peter Linebaugh and Markus Rediker, probably two
of the most daring American historians writing today. Their new book
chronicles the history of the first two centuries in the history of
what they call "the Atlantic working class," from the birth of
capitalism in the early 17th century to the aftermath of the American
and French revolutions in the early 18th and 19th centuries. That is
the "many-headed hydra" they invoke: a planetary monster with
innumerable heads in all parts of the world, linked together by a
diaphanous, almost intangible trunk.
According to Linebaugh and Rediker, the revolt against capitalist
globalization begins not simply as a struggle against property-title-
clutching aristocrats, who in early modern times were trying to
privatize lands held in common by English peasants. With a far more
cosmopolitan vision than even Karl Marx, they argue that this revolt
was also immediately global in scope, the product of transatlantic
coalitions between European commoners, African slaves, and Native
American societies.
The different constituencies were often brought together and kept in
contact with each other by ethnically heterogenous crews of sailors,
who glided from one end of the world to the other on ships that
recalled a prison chain gang rather than merry shipmates. Those
sailors frequently mutinied, threw their officers overboard, or worse,
and joyfully converted to the faith of the pirate: Eat well, drink
well, and above all, make decisions on every aspect of life "in
common" or, as we would say today, democratically.
You'll have to read the book to find out what happened on that famous
afternoon in July, 1609. Suffice it to say that neither then nor
afterward did things always go smoothly for this "many-headed hydra"
of a revolt. Indeed, the name itself was bestowed upon this multi-
ethnic assemblage of peoples by elite intellectuals such as Francis
Bacon and Walter Raleigh, who eagerly counseled their lords to
decapitate the hydra whenever it reared one of its ugly heads.
Apparently, then as now, these intellectuals were unaware of the
mythical hydra's magical property: If ever one of its heads is cut
off, it regenerates itself almost immediately.
Today, the hydra is again under attack. The Republicans in the White
House, on Capitol Hill, and in the various right-wing think tanks are
out to get the democratic hydra. Taking advantage of the recent
terrorist attacks--acts which speak as much of the twistedness of its
perpetrators as they do of the desperation of hundreds of millions of
dispossessed peoples around the world--these stone-hearted crocodiles
are using the shock and grief of many of us here in the States to put
forward an agenda that surpasses in folly even the most obnoxious
fantasies of Dr. Strangelove. In less than a month, conservatives have
managed to take back the lead in defining the issues on the public
agenda. From talking about the sweatshops, unemployment, and the
consequences of a recession for working people, we have all been
brought into dismal speculations on the possibility of World War III,
how many of our civil liberties we'd have to give up for "security" at
home, and the effects of the recession on the wealthy.
But neither a war abroad nor more police at home is going to make the
problem go away: Global environmental degradation and poverty are not
made better by uranium-depleted bullets or more phone taps.
So has the anti-capitalist hydra been decapitated in one fell swoop?
No, for as Linebaugh and Rediker put it: "The globalizing powers have
a long reach and endless patience. Yet the planetary wanderers do not
forget, and they are ever ready from Africa to the Caribbean to
Seattle to resist slavery and restore the commons."
Everyone in favor, say yargh!
Some of the world's earliest democracies flourished aboard pirate ships
http://www.boston.com/bostonglobe/ideas/articles/2008/05/11/everyone_in_favor_say_yargh?mode=PF
By Joanna Weiss | May 11, 2008
AS A CHILD, Peter Leeson was pirate-obsessed. He cherished the ruby-
eyed skull ring he got at Disney World, after riding Pirates of the
Caribbean. He took up a collection of coconut pirate heads. He lapped
up the pirate themes in "Goonies." And when he grew up to be an
economics professor, and started studying pirate society, he found a
new excuse for admiration. Pirates, it turns out, were pioneers of
democracy.
Presidential candidates, take note: Long before they made their way
into the workings of modern government, the democratic tenets we hold
so dear were used to great effect on pirate ships. Checks and
balances. Social insurance. Freedom of expression. So Leeson, an
economics professor at George Mason University, will argue in his
upcoming book, "The Invisible Hook: The Hidden Economics of Pirates."
Yes, those stereotypically lawless rum-chuggers turned out to be
ardent democrats. And in their strange enlightenment, Leeson sees the
answer to a riddle about human nature, worthy of "Lord of the Flies"
or an early episode of "Lost." In the absence of government and law
enforcement, what becomes of a band of men with a noted criminal
streak? Do they descend into violence and chaos?
The pirates who roamed the seas in the late 17th and early 18th
centuries developed a floating civilization that, in terms of
political philosophy, was well ahead of its time. The notion of checks
and balances, in which each branch of government limits the other's
power, emerged in England in the Glorious Revolution of 1688. But by
the 1670s, and likely before, pirates were developing democratic
charters, establishing balance of power on their ships, and developing
a nascent form of worker's compensation: A lost limb entitled one to
payment from the booty, more or less depending on whether it was a
right arm, a left arm, or a leg.
The idea of enlightened piracy is strange swill to swallow for those
steeped in a pop culture version of the pirate - chaos on the high
seas, drinking and pillaging, damsels forced onto the plank. Sure,
there's something about the independence of piracy that still speaks
to people today. (Even the founders of International Talk Like a
Pirate Day acknowledge that there is, in people who love to say
"Aargh," a yearning for a certain kind of freedom.) But it turns out
that pirate life was more than just greedy rebellion. It offers
insights into the nature of democracy and the reasons it might emerge
- as a natural state of being, or a rational response to a much less
pleasant way of life.
To Leeson, pirate democracy was an institution born of necessity. In
one successful cruise, a pirate could take home what a merchant sailor
earned in 50 years. Yet a business enterprise made up of the violent
and lawless was clearly problematic: piracy required common action and
mutual trust. And pirates couldn't rely on a government to set the
rules. Some think that "without government, where would we be?" Leeson
says. "But what pirates really show is, no, it's just common sense.
You have an incentive to try to create rules to make society get
along. And that's just as important to pirates as it is to anybody
else."
But Marcus Rediker, the author of the pirate histories "Between the
Devil and the Deep Blue Sea" and "Villains of All Nations," sees
pirate democracy less as a means for order than as a political
statement, a pointed reaction to the working sailor's life. When
pirates roamed the seas, Rediker says, it was the law-abiding merchant
ships that were run like miniature tyrannies. Captains held absolute
power. Floggings were routine and often deadly. When pirates recruited
sailors from the ships they pillaged, they opened a window to a
different kind of society - far from the one the working-class sailors
would otherwise find on land or sea. Rediker argues that pirate
democracy "is not about human nature at all. It's about the specific
experience of sailors and the way that they wanted to imagine a better
world."
Piracy, says Rediker, a history professor at the University of
Pittsburgh, was "a fascinating, almost utopian kind of experiment."
Indeed, he says, pirate democracy was purer than what was practiced in
Athens: The Greeks didn't give slaves the vote, but pirates offered
the right to everyone, black or white. (It's probably also safe to say
that pirates didn't have superdelegates.) Before each voyage, the crew
elected a captain who could be deposed at any time, as well as a
quartermaster whose main purpose was to make sure the captain didn't
have too much power. A written charter outlined ship rules, which
tended to prohibit theft and violence aboard and set strict rules for
the presence of women. (Contrary to popular myth, Leeson, says,
pirates usually set limits on drinking. "A drunken pirate crew," he
points out, "would be less effective than a sober crew.")
Pirates even conducted a version of a fair trial, Rediker says, when
determining the fate of captured captains. If any pirate on board knew
the man from his merchant ship days, he could testify about his
treatment. A captain who turned out to be kind was sometimes spared
his life. And in a precursor of our own democratic love of political
satire, pirates wrote coarse, hilarious plays that mocked the upper
classes' criminal justice system.
Their mockery, and their gallows humor, reflected the risks they
faced. The pirates' democratic experiment, like piracy itself, turned
out to be short-lived. When the buccaneers of the late 1600s attacked
Spanish trade ships, Rediker says, the British navy looked the other
way. But when pirates began to attack British and American ships in
the early 1700s, the British naval crackdown was swift and fierce. By
1730, the traditional pirate life was essentially done.
And, scholarly treatises aside, some of its specifics have been lost
in the popular imagination. The current image of the pirate is colored
more by the Robert Newton movies of the 1950s, or the rantings of
Captain Hook, or - to a newer generation - the Keith Richards stylings
of Johnny Depp.
Even in their own time, the pirates' democratic experiment was quickly
forgotten, a culture washed away. It would be another half a century,
Leeson says, before James Madison would start to devise a US
Constitution. And there's no evidence, he says, that the forefathers
of British and American democracy took any of their cues from pirate
ships. "The Federalists never refer back to pirates," he says. "I've
looked."
Joanna Weiss covers TV and pop culture for the Globe. She can be
reached at weiss at globe.com.
© Copyright 2008 The New York Times Compan
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