The Way We Were: Pre-Iraq Invasion

Stepped into a time warp today listening to a 12/20/02 episode of This American Life, “Why We Fight.”  Broadcast exactly four months before the American invasion of Iraq, it’s a portrait of American consciousness that feels unnervingly distance.

Back then, we were still undecided about whether or not they thought Iraq posed a legitimate enough threat to justify the war our government was flirting with. It was still understandable that no one knew how to pronounce “Iraq.” There was no recession, no huge war debt, no body count, no Abu Gharib, no GITMO. People in liberal enclaves such as NPR were still saying things to the effect of “I’m not so sure about this whole ‘invasion’ thing, but I like the president and I want to support him.” 

It’s a bit like stumbling upon a picture from junior high and not being able to recognize yourself. You can’t imagine a time when you thought graffitied jeans or crimped hair were a good idea, just as you can’t imagine a time when an invasion without an exit strategy seemed feasible… and yet there it is, that image of a former self which proves you wrong.

Perhaps the best example of this comes in Act Three (”Realism 101″), in which The New Yorker’s Nicholas Lemann and Brookings Institution analyst Kenneth Pollack argued about the for and against the invasion. It’s weird, remembering that arguments like these were persuasive in either direction, when they seemed well informed and thought through, and for their time they were. Yet there are some pretty glaring anachronisms, or at least, what feel like them now. For instance, both parties believed that Saddam Hussein had WMDs–they’re existence is in no way up for debate. It of course, begs the unsettling question of how current debates will look in only a couple years. When we talk about Iran or Gaza in three, four years, how uninformed will we consider the conversations we’re having now? 

On the other hand, there are details that ended up staying true that have in some ways fallen out of our awareness. In Act Two (”When Firas Comes Marching Home Again”), Adam Davidson interviews Iraqi refugees and foreign workers who either live in or commute to Amman, Jordan. There are a number of Iraqis who left the country after being subjected to brutal torture for petty or non-existent crimes, the effects of which are still visible on their faces and fingers. I think it’s good to remember that the specter of violence has existed in the Iraqi consciousness for longer than the American occupation. 

Also, these stories hit a little too close to home in a way they didn’t before the invasion. Before, these were Saddam’s brutal interrogation techniques, and were widely publicized in America as justification for overthrowing a wretchedly inhumane dictator. Yet now we have to square ourselves with our own track record in Abu Gharib, GITMO, and hundreds of CIA blackout sites all over the world. 

If you’ve got an hour to listen, you should check it out for yourself, and see how far we’ve come, for better or worse.

Valentine’s Day: Worse than Ebola?

According to Egyptian cleric Hazem Shuman, yes.

“In a few days time, a very dangerous virus will attack the body of the nation. What virus? Is it AIDS? No, something more dangerous. Something more dangerous than Ebola, which dissolves the human body, more dangerous than cholera, which killed half of Europe a few centuries ago. I am talking about the Valentine virus, people.” (quote courtesy of MEMRI TV)

Hazem’s reasons are many, and fairly predictable. Valentine’s Day leads young Muslims into temptation, makes them consume, sin… the usual. He also goes out of his way to rail against the buying of “red colored” products, which is probably more of a rhetorical tactic than anything else. Still, I have to point out that a) fluffy, sparkily Valentine’s merchandise does not seem like the greatest erotic threat to pious young people and b) that stuff is already all over Egypt, every day, any day. If I had a pound for every time I got into a taxi where a stuffed red heart was hanging from the rearview mirror or ceiling… well, I’d have a lot of money for similar taxi rides.

Shuman’s medical comparisons and warnings about the evil of Hallmark make his speech kind of funny, but it’s also interesting for other reasons. Towards the end, he says:

“You can’t tell the difference between a Fatima and a Mary anymore. Fatima wears the same clothes as Mary, listens to the same songs, she loves the same singers, and she watches the same TV channels.”

With Egypt, like so much of the Middle East, going through an intense religious revival right now, I was surprised to hear Shuman bemoan the loss of religious identity to Western secularism. It seems strangely out of place, considering what’s going on in Egypt these days.

Of course, exaggerating any cultural issue as an East-versus-West clash of civilizations is a pretty common way of drumming up domestic support for religious or political leaders on both sides. It rarely describes what is actually going on or what people (both those making speeches and those listening to them) are actually thinking. Still, after all that ebola and AIDS talk, it was the rhetorical tactic that stuck with me after reading it.

Anyway, here’s to hoping all your Valentine’s days don’t dissolve your body. Unless it’s in a figurative, romantic way, in which case go for it I suppose… but find a better metaphor for it when speaking to that special someone.

The Princess and the Great Saudi Roadtrip

You know the quintessential female road trip movie–the kind where the solution to any problem is just an enthusiastic radio sing-along away? Where everyone emerges from the experience knowing a little more about each other and themselves? Okay, so maybe this isn’t the automotive or cinematic aspiration of every woman out there, but I the basic act of getting behind the wheel should be available to those who want it.

The Saudi law that forbids women from driving is perhaps one of the more infamous ways in which the government systematically marginalizes women, but there’s been a recent effort among Saudi women to put together a petition to overturn it.

“Petition?” you are perhaps thinking. “Isn’t that a political process better suited for getting nominated for high school student counsel? Or to bring chicken wings to the dining halls?”

Yes and no. While petitions are often a dead-end effort in America, the Saudi government isn’t to keen on any sort of organized political action, a feeling they express with jail sentences, fines, and forced unemployment. So in this context, writing your name down in dissent is a fairly gutsy move.

It’s something that is getting much more press abroad than domestically, but a big part of that is because there are so many censors watching Saudi media that it’s not the best way of taking the country’s political pulse. It’s gettting even more coverage now because Saudi princess Amira al-Taweel has been the latest to sign on. It’s hard to say what, if any, effect this will have on the outcome (again, if any), but I think it can’t hurt for the other women who are supporting this to have a powerful ally.

The reasons Saudi women are demanding to drive are much more practical than symbolic, and I think it’s an important thing to keep in mind that any effort towards women’s rights doesn’t necessarily have to look like an effort towards an American-like society. Most Saudi women aren’t able to pay the $300-400 a month for a live in driver, and many would much prefer to spend their time driving in the company of female relatives rather than risk harrassment from their male chaffeurs. It’s not really about gender integration, but about expanding the separate female sphere. The typical (stated) male criticism about this idea is that it will put women in more situations where they are in contact with men, and therefore more opportunities for them to be led into sin. So why not train some female mechanics and traffic officers? Problem solved. Or it would be, if that’s what this were really about.

The Modern Middle East: a Lecture in Rap-Battle

The first Arabic words that reached my ears after I returned to the states was not a result of any studying on my part, but the fact I was listening to a Top 40 Hip Hop station while driving. Busta Rhymes’ “Arab Money,” at least in the remix version, has a bismillah ar-rahman ar-raheen as a significant part of it’s chorus, which translates into “In the name of God, the most gracious, the most merciful,” and is something called the fatiha, which is spoken before each chapter in the Qur’an. And while it’s normal to hear the entire Qur’an recited on cassette tapes in taxis, homes, or tram stops in the Middle East, hearing it out of my Suburu speakers in southern California would have made me fall out of my seat if I wasn’t strapped in.

It’s an interesting song, with the Arabic hook and the actual subject matter. I can’t tell whether I like it, or whether it’s embarrassing for everyone involved. On one hand, it’s kind of cool see the dream of glittery Gulf culture making it’s way onto the American rap scene. On the other, it does make you wonder how it affects the causes of the rest of the Arabs who don’t have a lot of money. Say, the ones living in the Gaza Strip. Especially this past months.

I don’t know, it seems in a lot of ways Busta has brought up that classic Middle Eastern Studies 101 question of what exactly constitutes the Middle East, or the term “Arab.” A lot of very different regions fall under the umbrella of that term, each with different problems and different assets, and there’s a lot of tension between the haves and have-nots, or more often, the countries deemed “moderate” or “friendly” by the US (Saudi, Egyt, Jordan, and the Fatah party) and all the others. Marc Lynch has some great posts about this.

Anyway, Bay Area Iranian rapper, Revolution of the Mind, has taken up the issue and made his own version of the song in response to Busta’s about the Gaza crisis. The image’s not very good quality, but he’s a really brilliant guy and makes some great points about tensions within the Arab world (or, “Arab” world) and how they are perceived in the states. He did some work for the first “Loose Change” soundtrack, but it’ll be interesting to see what he comes up with next.

Note: This version of Busta Rhymes’ “Arab Money” is a fully produced video, but does not include the “bismillah” bit, and is total gibberish, as best I can tell. To hear the “bismillah” remix, go here. 

Obamanation

Sprinted to the nearest TV after class today to see Obama awkwardly get sworn in, but oh what a speech. It was so hard not to be in America when he won the election, not to get to feel the communal swirl of euphoria on the streets, to have to youtube his acceptance speech between classes… so being here for this moment was so powerful. 

I try to be a realist, politically. I understand that Barack Obama is not the second coming, that the markets will not right themselves at his whim, that formerly hostile world leaders will not join hands across the Mall and join in a chorus of “Kumbaya” before ratifying a treaty for world peace. But you can’t deny that it means something big. For a generation who came of political age at the beginning of the W Years, we are learning that there is more than one way to relate to your government.  I think in some ways, it does mean all those big symbolic changes that we’re being sold. And for now, I have no problem with that. I’m ready to try on idealist’s clothing. Tomorrow is the first day of the Obama presidency, but for now, I think we all deserve to feel as hopeful as we see fit. After eight years, we’ve earned it.

“To the Muslim world, we seek a new way forward, based on mutual interest and mutual respect… To those leaders around the globe who seek to sow conflict, or blame their society’s ills on the West — know that your people will judge you on what you can build, not what you destroy. To those who cling to power through corruption and deceit and the silencing of dissent, know that you are on the wrong side of history; but that we will extend a hand if you are willing to unclench your fist.”

Film: “The Band’s Visit”

In a strange contrast to current events in Israel in Gaza, I ended up watching the 2007 movie “The Band’s Visit” last night. It’s about a police orchestra from Alexandria, Egypt (represent?) who is invited to play at the Arab cultural center in an Israeli city. Things get lost in translation, and they end up taking a bus to a Podunk town in the middle of nowhere, with “no culture,” let alone an Arab cultural center, as they are told by the sass-prone Israeli restaurant owner who allows them to stay the night before they catch the next bus to the correct city for their performance the next day.

Almost all of the movie takes place in between when the band arrives and when they leave the next day. All the characters are almost poignant in their awkwardness, and there are some really beautiful and hilarious moments. At times, it reminds me a bit of Napoleon Dynamite… if Napoleon Dynamite had been set in the Middle East, and hadn’t been so shamelessly striving to be a new cult classic.

Mostly, it’s nice to see a movie that is technically about Israeli-Arab relations insist that it is more importantly about basic human relations of the most ordinary quality. Plenty of tension, but no mention of suicide bombers, rockets, or walls. Which is not the same as pretending they are not there, but they don’t always need to play the leading roles.

Anyway, below is one of my favorite scenes, in which Khalid (the young Don Juan of the Alexandrian orchestra), help Papi (a horribly awkward Israeli man) comfort his equally awkward blind date. It starts out a little slow, but trust me, it’s worth sticking around for the end.

Snapshot: Dahab Boardwalk

 

Not a bad idea. Or selling point, for that matter. I love the awkwardly elongated joy of both person and dolphin.

If I didn’t already have my monsters up top, I would make this my header.

Flights of Whimsy in a Recession-Heavy World

“I remember the thrill of the whispered word on my young lips- America. America, the open-sesame. America, which got rid of the British long before we did. Let Sir Darius Xerxes Cama dream his colonialist dreams of England. My dream-ocean led to America, my private, my unfound land.”

–Salman Rushdie, The Ground Beneath Her Feet

 

With so much Rushdie, ocean, and dreams of America in my last few days in Egypt, what words could be more appropriate? Though the Rushdie was more satanic in nature and title, the ocean a surprisingly calm sea (Red, in fact), and the dreams of return more than discovery, it still seems to fit.

America is so much more luxurious and comfortable than I remember! Nothing like traveling to remind you just how high the general standard of living is here… not only my personal standard of living (though that does always make coming home exciting after traveling on the cheap), but the way all the people around you live as well. General point: life in an affluent nation has many perks.

Doesn’t sound particularly enlightened when I put it like that, but I guess I’m in fairly good company, as the New York Times has published a number of articles lately where the basic thesis seems to be “Egypt is really poor,” with the follow-up article: “No seriously, guys. Poor.“

To be fair, it’s not an immediately obvious point. Thanks to Pharonitourism (portmanteau?), I think most of us in America think of Egypt as one of the easier, more accessible countries in an increasingly uncertain Middle East. Unfortunately, that tourism is practically the only industry, which is a big reason why I think it can be so difficult to live there as a foreigner. The rising cost of living and disappearance of the possibility of a middle class life has recently been linked to increasing sexual harassment, sectarian clashes, and Islamic fundamentalism among young Egyptians.

That last article, by the way, is from a series called “Generation Faithful” that NYT has started this year about the rising religiousity in my generation across the Arab world. They’ve done some pretty fantastic snapshots of young life in Jordan, Dubai, and other places, and I highly recommend it.

Anyway, the heaviness of a world-wide economic crisis and strained international relations aside, home is lovely. I’m missing being able to speak a polyglot of English peppered with Egyptian Arabic, and I’m sure as time goes on, I’ll start to miss more tangible parts of Egypt as well (though now it still feels a little… early). Then again, Arabic as a language is what lured me into Middle Eastern studies in the first place. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s the thing I end up yearning for the most.

But for now, I’ve got plenty to occupy myself. Family, friends, pets, the obvious things. But also: enchiladas, guitars, novels. The unlikely dream that I may one day finish my Spring 2008 reading list. Gradual climate adjustment. Walking down the street while thinking of other things entirely. Learning to cook (so far completed: one kind of salad dressing?). Recreational organization. The endless reformatting of this blog. Salad that is actually salad. General cultural readjustment.

Open-sesame, indeed. 

 

Pyramids, creeping towards the horizon line.

Photos: White Desert

Sunset in the White Desert (moon a little bit visible in large version).

 

 

For more geomarvels and secret tourism, see the full album here.

Lost in Translation

Aside from being the closest thing to real school I have here in Alexandria, I’d have to say that the biggest perk of my Translation class is reading my first drafts. Sure, it means that I have more work to do when I go back and turn the text into real, comprehensible English, but I’ll take my kicks when I can get them. 

Most of the time when I’m working with written MSA Arabic, there’s just not that much of an opportunity for my initial reading to take a dramatic and hilarious departure. But this week is an Egyptian comedy in ‘Amiyya, and if you’ve ever seen Egyptian TV, you know that they really could say anything.

Anyway, after a particularly ridiculous fact-checking session with my neighbor, I thought I’d share the love and put a first draft up for all my fellow proto-translators out there. The actual translation is a little boring, so I’ll leave it out, but the video is below.

F: It’s good to see you, Bibo.

S: I’m a sesame.

F: It’s good to see you, Bibo.

P: I’m the Prince.

F: What prince? You are all my Indian thinkers.

P: And, in turn, who are you?

F: Ah yes, the virtuous grace of an Indian.

P: Is a personality with you?

F: Um… It’s just a feeling.

P: Raise your hand.

F: Okay.

P: Alright, father. I don’t like this nightingale…

And that is why we check our work. But look at this movie, and then try to tell me this version is that out of the realm of possibility…