Christmas has come, with all the traditional tinsel, turkeys and trimmings, including of course Christmas carols and nativity plays. For a short period of time a large part of the world is focused on what happened in the small, quiet, peaceful town of Bethlehem, with its donkeys, cattle, sheep and shepherds, and its prophetic stars twinkling in the sky.

The Palestinian city of Beit Lahem, a bus-ride south of Jerusalem and not very far from the (pre-1967) Israeli border, does not exactly fit the idyllic Christmas-time image. It is, after all, under military occupation, butted up against the separation wall with watchtowers looming over its suburbs.

My friend Palden has made several extended visits to Beit Lahem, and in 2009 he kept up a regular blog that has now been used as the basis for a book – Pictures of Palestine. As it happened, I received a copy just in time to read it in the run-up to Christmas; and so I noticed the stark contrast between the Bethlehem of the Christmas story and the reality of today.

As Palden says, millions of people have heard of the place but very few have actually been there. The reality, if all you know about Palestine is what comes over on the BBC news, is quite shocking. 

It is probably also true that 2,000 years ago, life for people from a family of provincial artisans under Roman rule was itself in stark contrast to the nativity scene as depicted on present-day Christmas cards. What we would like to believe may have very little to do with the actual truth, whether ancient or modern.

I don’t intend to go into the details here, nor to try making any political points about a situation that I have no first-hand experience of; but I would recommend Palden’s book. It is by no means a horror story, in fact it contains a great deal of hope for the future, as well as an illuminating account of past history. But it is a close-up look at what life is actually like on the front-line between the ‘first world’, the West, and the ‘under-developed world’, the rest. And the picture that this presents – perhaps because it is somewhat understated – can be very disturbing.

In an effort to keep fit I have taken to running round Glastonbury Tor every morning. I do this early, as soon as it’s light enough to see where I am going, and usually the only people I meet are one or two early-morning dog-walkers. But this morning there were dozens of people heading up the Tor: oh yes, I remembered, it’s the winter solstice, and not only that but winter solstice 2012 – the end of the Mayan calendar.

“We need to be fit for the end of the world” I shouted to a group who were on their way up as I jogged past. They were mildly amused.

21st December 2012 has been a much-talked-about date here in Glastonbury. Last July I spent a weekend at the annual ‘Glastonbury Symposium’ at the Town Hall, and I was pleasantly surprised by the quality of many of the speakers. This is the event that began as the ‘Crop Circle Conference’ back in the nineties, and a couple of the speakers were talking about crop circles, but the subjects are now many and varied. This year, of course, they were particularly interested in 2012 and the Mayan prophecies.

The general feeling was that this would be the end of a cycle rather than the end of the world, and that it was about transformation rather than destruction. What impressed me was that one after another they voiced their opinion that it will be hard work putting the world to rights, that we have to take responsibility for it ourselves. The chances are we shall all wake up on December 22nd 2012 and find that nothing appears to have dramatically changed. 

This was in contrast to the early days, as one or two of them acknowledged, when everyone was waiting to be rescued by Ascended Masters who would presently be sending a space ship to pick up the faithful and take them somewhere comfortable until the planet had been sorted out.

I think I had known that, and in me it had engendered a cynicism that had kept me away for all these years. But this year they offered a bursary to ‘a local person who has not been to the Symposium before, but who may become a regular once they have experienced the event.’ So I applied (I think I was the only one who did) and got given a free ticket. Some of the speakers were real showmen, hugely entertaining, and – with one or two exceptions - they were all competent and lucid.

Afterwards I got to chat a little with the organisers, and I let them know that part of the reason I had wanted to come was to see if I could manage to become a speaker myself. I was feeling like it would be very challenging – I’ve never done a power point presentation in my life, and standing up in front of all those people would be terrifying – but I told them briefly about my book ‘The Ancient Problem with Men’, which is what my talk would be based on: “If we need to take responsibility for changing the world and actually do something, what’s that something going to be?”

Well, they were very encouraging, and said that was just the sort of thing they would be looking for next year … but I have to admit that there is no sign yet that they will actually be inviting me to speak. Maybe they will have been up the Tor this morning, just to check what actually happens before they commit themselves to putting together next year’s programme.

There was one other major issue that came up at that Town Council meeting a couple of weeks ago: nuclear waste. Plans for Hinkley Point C include a facility for the ‘short-term’ storage of nuclear waste. ‘Short term’ means up to, and probably more than, 160 years.

One of the people at the meeting was Theo Simon, local musician and inveterate eco-campaigner, who put some very probing questions on the subject. Since this is something that will affect the people of Somerset for generations, and that will still be there to be dealt with long after the power station has ceased to generate electricity and long after any supposed benefit to the community has ceased, isn’t this a matter that the local authority can voice its opinion on as part of the planning process?

No, said the County Council functionaries, it isn’t. The nuclear waste facility is part of the overall plan as designed and presented to us by central government. The nuclear waste, we all hope, will be taken away and stored safely and securely in a large hole in the ground before the 160 years are up.

But where will this hole be? asked Theo. For 30 years or more there’s been talk of putting it at Sellafield, but the geological reports aren’t encouraging and nothing has actually happened – in fact there is no sign of anything actually happening.

That may be true, came the reply (with just a hint of a wry smile), but it’s nothing to do with us. It is outside, in a technical sense, the competence of Somerset County Council.

So that’s as far as the discussion could go. Hinkley Point may end up being home to the biggest nuclear power plant in the country, but that would only be a potential problem for 50 years or so. Hinkley Point’s nuclear waste dump could last more-or-less forever.

We were promised a proper public meeting in the Town Hall, but no hope at all that it would produce anything other than more of the same. 

Last February, Theo set out on a more radical course of action when he helped to instigate an occupation of the deserted farm on the land being prepared for the new construction. EDF successfully took the occupiers to court and had them evicted within a few weeks, but there were some lovely little films made that are still up on youtube and well worth a watch:

Hinkley Point site occupation:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PfW-Kv6IWEI

Eviction papers arrive at Hinkley Point occupation site: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dCphZejZPZQ

The eviction:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gNaNz9xeP-8

There’s also Theo Simon’s blog (including his memorable email debate with George Monbiot): http://theosimon.wordpress.com/

And whilst I’m at it, there is of course the Stop Hinkley campaign: http://www.stophinkley.org/