COLUMNISTS

Airports drive my irritation and touchiness levels right up. Things become polarised. My Britishness is enhanced and I find myself mentally bringing back the Raj and wishing I'd packed my elephant gun. And yet - like the population of the sub-continent I have just recolonialised - I, too, have to submit to being processed like a prisoner if I want to visit the place I've bought a ticket to.

Normally, if I find someone going through my stuff, I'll be looking around for a large stick to hit him with. At the airport , however, you're expected to smile as you're poked and prodded and invaded. And they keep inventing new hoops for you to jump through. It's a farce. It's theatre. But the message is simple: if you want to travel, you have to eat some dirt first.

Supposedly, the "terrorists" - whose agenda rather conveniently advances everything certain powerful countries want to happen - are against our freedoms. Therefore, we have to give up all our freedoms in order that we be protected from the "terrorists." If that makes sense to you, I have some stock in Lehman Brothers I'd like to sell you.

In a Berlin airport recently, I asked the security attendant if they had ever found a life-threatening device in anyone's shoe. They didn't seem to understand the question. But I know the answer. We all know it. The worst thing ever found in a shoe in an airport is a nasty smell. This has nothing to do with "terrorism." It is about making us obedient.

Most worrying to me is the fact that people can't wait to comply. At what point do we start saying no? Cavity searches? The removal of dentures?

Instead of kicking up a stink, we say ‘thank you.' We've bought into the idea that the government - any government - is our friend. But is it really?

The government - by definition - is out to bleed you white if you let it. The edifice upon which the United States, for example, was built upon - The Constitution and the Bill of Rights - took this fact as its guiding principle. Mistrust of government is a requisite part of a normally-functioning self-survival instinct.

But we have other instincts. Like the instinct to buy nice stuff. Now that I'm past the officials with the plastic gloves, I can immerse myself in Duty Free. After perusing several aisles of slightly cheaper cool stuff I feel gently blessed. Perhaps I am a free man after all. But I can only buy this stuff in small amounts and on production of a boarding card. So which is it? Am I free or not? I'm confused.

The problem is between form and content. What we currently have in the West is the alignment of interests between corporations and government supported by a craven media. In fact, this is the classical definition of fascism. But because we don't yet have Blackshirts parading down the street - because the control grid is so shiny and ergonomic and unlike the fascism we have seen on television - we don't feel it can really be that bad. Today's goons have sympathetic expressions and want you to have a nice day. In fact, they insist. And if you refuse, you won't be getting on any planes.

The answer is: we are not free. We have to be authorised.

If you've got your authorisation, then duty-free shopping, red carpets, leather seats and smiling young women offering you drinks ensue. No authorisation, then it's small, dingy rooms and nasty things happening to you, possibly culminating in the worst day of your life.

But not to me. Not today. It's true that I'm not free, but I am authorised. I've got through all their pointless, humiliating tests and I'm on the plane with all the other happy, authorised people and I have a big bag of duty-free goodies under my arm.

I'll have a nice rest and worry about the global slide into a police state when I get back.

Hope we don't crash.

By Sam Gerrans