The White Man's Burden

“The White Man’s Burden” is the title of a nineteenth-century poem by the English poet Rudyard Kipling. The poem is perceived by many literary critics as a racist argument for Western imperialism. According to them, it is a blatant call for white supremacist values to salvage the rest of the world from the "darkness of their cultures". Whether Mr. Kipling, lying in his deep dark grave, agrees with this reading of his poem or not, centuries of colonialism and occupation proved the ideology to be a complete failure.
Today, though, the “white man” seems to be carrying a different type of burden. That is the heavy shadows of the past years of arrogant racism. Take modern German history as an example. Inarguably, one of the most sensitive spots in German collective sub-conscience today is the Nazi era. The post Second World War generations feel compelled to sever any ties of sympathy with anyone who had been involved in the Holocaust. Quite naturally, many still haven’t figured out how to reconcile with such a disturbingly ever-present past.
Another example can be seen in South Africa, which ended its apartheid regime less than two decades ago. While it is admirable how the country managed a transition to democracy through nonviolent means, the tension between different races in the country can still be strongly felt. High crime rates, among other indicators, reflect tensions of the present and violence of the past. However, as an observer, I find it quite notable that many seem obliged to over-emphasize patriotic bonds and paint a bright harmonious picture of multi-ethnic relations evading any deep examination of the issue.
Germany and South Africa are hardly the only two examples. Many complex issues of the sort exist across the globe where a racial conflict had recently risen. Can we look at this modern “burden” as a part of the healing process that will eventually lead to reconciliation? Is it that ugly scar that reminds you not to play with a knife again? The world is certainly shifting to a more politically and economically decentralized state away from the imperialist models of the past centuries. Many would argue that that is not the case culturally, but I seriously doubt that the masses would be enthusiastically flocking towards any blatantly pro-colonialist best-sellers hitting the book stands or box offices any time soon. At least we can relax that Kiplings of the world had their day and is now gone.

(Painting from Ohio State University Gallery)

Drunken Memory

By Ghada Al Samman

Why
Is it that when I am drunk on an airplane
The clouds form a map of Syria
One cloud after the other?
***
During Parisian exile events, I cut the ceremonial ribbons of rain
At Maxime Restaurant with a scythe from our old Shami village.
If I were a woman of chocolate,
I would’ve melted under the suns of Singapore and Manila.
If I were a woman of salt,
I would’ve dissolved in the sea waters between Lisbon and Barcelona.
But I am a Sinbad who circled the earth in search of her lover,
While he had been lying deep inside her all along , and his name is her Country
***
He was cruel and violent.
I felt his palm like an ice block when he took my hand
But I have loved him and followed him to the end of the world
While snow fell off his eyes over me…
And his lips blew winds of the Alps when he whispered my name,
His name was: Exile
I do not regret that wretched love,
For the so-called “exile” taught me better than any other teacher how

To write the name of my country with stars on a board made of night.

---------------------------------

(My translation from Arabic version)

Painting by Lord Frederick Leighton

Foolish Woman

By Nizar Qabani

My dear lord
This is a letter
From a foolish woman
Has a foolish woman ever written to you before?
My name?
Let’s leave names aside
Rania or Zainab
Hind or Haifa
The silliest things we bear, my lord, are names
My lord
I fear of voicing my concern
I fear, if I did, the skies will burn
For your orient, my dear lord,
Confiscates blue letters
Seizes dreams from women’s dressers
Uses knives
And blades
To talk to women
Slaughters springs and yearnings
And black braids
Your orient, my dear lord,
Crafts sublime crowns of honor
Out of women’s skulls
Do not criticize me my lord
If my handwriting is poor
As I write with a swordsman behind my door
And outside my room winds howl and dogs growl
My lord
Antara the Brave is behind my door
He would slaughter me
Should he see my letter
He would behead me
Should I defy my fetter
He would behead me
Should my dress be unproper
For your honor, my dear lord,
Sieges women with spears
Appoints men as seers
And buries women
Do not be upset!
My dear lord…from my lines
Do not be upset
If I smash the bottle sealed for ages
If I break the iron stamp on my pages
If I run away
From the castles and the harem cages
If I revolt against my death
My grave
My roots
And the great slaughterhouse
Do not be upset my lord!
If I unveil my passions
For an oriental man
Does not care for poetry nor passion
An oriental man
Does not understand a woman except in bed
Pardon me…pardon me my lord
If I offend men’s kingdom
Great literature – surely men’s literature – and love
Have always been men’s share
And sex has always been
A drug sold to men
Women’s freedom in our country is a myth
For there is no freedom
Other than men’s freedom
My lord
Say what you please of me, I won’t mind – superficial, foolish, crazy, stupid - I no longer mind
Because she who writes about her woes
Is a foolish woman according to men’s logic
Didn’t I say earlier that I am
A foolish woman?

(My translation from the Arabic version)

Illustration by Virginia Frances Sterrett

The Big Picture Isn't Always the Pretty One

Earlier this week, finance ministers gathered for another G20 meeting. And as the custom goes with similar summits, groups of protesters always gather outside the meeting headquarters to voice angry anti-institutional complaints regardless of their reasonability or feasibility. What these protestors and many other impassioned spectators watching from the comfort of their living rooms seem to misunderstand every time is that such financial and economic summits couldn't care less about you. Economic policies are all about the big picture. The fact that you might have recently lost your job is irrelevant. You’re a statistic. What matters is the overall wellbeing of a community over a period of time – usually a long one, which means that by then you will have either found another job, learned a new skill, or died.
The truth is world economy has witnessed dozens of crises and adjustment policies are always painful. There will always be a gap between countries depending on their development levels. But what adds insult to injury is that media focuses single-mindedly on the victims and neglects to mention the groups that actually do end up being better off. Just as there is a group of losers, there is a group of winners. But again, no place for individuals here.

Economics at times might seem too harsh and impersonal. The best thing to do in that case is shut the news channel and grab a feel-good self-gratifying flick.

Painting by Salvador Dali

Rude Awakening

“God loves you, which is why he chose you to be a Christian like your mom”. “Allah loves you, which is why he chose you to be a Muslim like your dad”. I grew up hearing those phrases, and always wondered “but how do you know?”. “Didn’t he just tell the other ‘non-believers’ the same thing?”. Of course I never dared to ask out loud.
After many years, I see such expressions, in addition to others like “God gave me a sign to do so and so” or “Allah will choose what’s best for me”, as a mere manifestation of humankind’s egocentric nature, and its constant need to prove that “yes, the world does revolve around me”. This is also the likely source for the need to believe in an omniscient, omnipotent god who is vigilantly protecting you against all the evil and randomness out there.
It’s true that individuals can not thrive without the constant reassurance from those around them that they are smart, beautiful, unique, etc. And without the belief that we are taken care of by a supreme power, many would aimlessly float in a gloomy existentialist vacuum. But this becomes a serious issue when it ignites ideologies based on discrimination and condescension. There is no "Chosen People". For once, science and religion both agree that all humans come from the same source – of course they soon diverge when it comes to what that source is. Similarly, there is no "The One" destined to save humanity from hollow simulations of how an ideal life should be. Last thing I heard, Neo succumbed to a hefty job offer from Microsoft and is also starting his own line of trendy trench coats for the fall-winter 2009 season.
Sorry, but that's as good as it gets...

Painting by Rene Magritte

Cafe de Flore

A sliver from "the City of Light"....

McFacts

Ok that’s it! I’m officially fed up with all the mosque-talk and mass emails ranting about our “duty” to boycott America, Denmark, or whichever nation happens to be the favorite “enemy of the umma” for the season. Before madrassa-educated sheikhs start meddling with the country’s affairs and its economic decisions, they need to understand a little bit about the dynamics of international markets.
First of all, there is no longer such a thing as a purely “American product”. A typical hamburger sold at a McDonald’s store in Qatar, for example, is possibly made of Brazilian beef, Jordanian tomatoes, Egyptian wheat, and other imported ingredients sold to you by a Filipino worker at a venue managed by an Indian, and owned by a Qatari businessman. The brand is American alright, but the sandwich hardly is. And most of what you paid goes to the farmers, workers, and business owners who participated in the making of the sandwich, many of whom could very well be Muslims by the way. So boycotting that sandwich really means hurting them more than the brand itself.
Add to that, foreign franchises aren’t really as bad as many people think, and no it’s not the modern form of colonialism. Those annoyingly-identical stores actually help the economy of the host country by providing job opportunities and paying taxes to its government, which in turn is used to improve living standards. It is also within the corporate social responsibility plan of many of those companies to give back to the community and fill in the gaps left by the government.
At a time when smart countries are dying to attract more foreign investment and more international cooperation, it is ridiculous to call for an “independent Muslim industry”. It’s simply not feasible - not even theoretically.
So if you want to stop eating hamburgers do it out of health, aesthetic, or any other number of reasons. But please don’t think you’re fulfilling some kind of a religious duty and then come rubbing it in our faces!

Hot Property!

Corporate espionage, secret agents, and conspiracy schemes are all part of Pat Choate’s book “Hot Property, The Stealing of Ideas in an Age of Globalization”. In his Hollywood-movie-like account, he talks about what he sees as the main challenges facing intellectual property (to be more specific American intellectual property) at a time when other nations are “secretly conspiring in the dark to snatch those brilliant ideas while smoking on their thick fat cigars in the backroom of some family-owned restaurant”. Ok, he doesn’t literally say that. It’s just the mental image he gives you. Of course, piracy and counterfeiting are serious problems that pretty much every country suffers from. But Choate jumps to conclusions on how “evil” Germany, Japan, and China resorted to tactics aimed at strengthening their economies using American patented innovations. He recounts one example after another of how countries have stolen one brilliant idea after another from naïve American inventors earlier in the 20th century. However, he conveniently neglects to mention that the budding American nation in its early years chose no to respect foreign intellectual property and continuously infringed it until its national economy and industry were strong enough. This seems to be the case with many emerging economies. You can’t just single out Germany, Japan, or China, who are today among the main contributors to innovation patents. In general, Choate fails to make a solid case as he seems to have sacrificed depth and quality for the sake of quantity.

Final verdict: Not Hot.

Open Doors

Panting heavily and almost choking on his suppressed tears, Safi repeatedly banged on the recently-painted wooden door with convulsive angry fists. BANG! BANG! BANG...Pause for a breath…Banging resumes. It wasn’t until the woman in the neighboring apartment opened her door that Safi realized he had been knocking too loud for too long. Through the cracked door, a sweet aroma of freshly baked bread escaped and filled the air. She looked at the shaken boy with a sweet inquisitive smile.
“Hey you’re the son of Abu Safi, right? I saw your dad and his wife leave earlier this morning and I don’t think they’re back yet.”
“I’m…I’m sorry to bother you…I…Do you know when they’ll be back?…I really need to talk to him”
“I’m afraid I don’t know, dear.”
Hala saw that the boy was clearly troubled. Her maternal instinct simply could not shut him down, not another one.
“You can wait for them inside if you want. I was just about to boil some cinnamon tea. C’mon in”
“Really?…I mean are you sure you don’t mind?”
One smile was all the assurance he needed.

The furniture in the living room was simple, yet comfortable. An over-sized portrait of a young man hung on the central wall immediately stood out.
“That is my darling son, Fouad. He works in Kuwait.”
“I’m sorry but I don’t recall seeing him around before.”
Hala sensed that a light conversation could help ease down the boy’s nerves, so she continued.
“He has been working there since he was eighteen…I haven’t seen him since then, either.”
“How old is he now?”
“Next month he will turn 24. I was only 16 when I had him, but even at that age I knew he would be all the pride in my life. I still remember how I did everything I could so that he would become a great doctor, just like I and his late father always wanted him to be”. She added with a nostalgic guilty smile “I even threatened him if he doesn‘t go to medicine school I would deprive him of my blessings forever. See, I just wanted the best for him.”
After a sorrowful pause, she added “but he left at eighteen...just before he could go to university”
“I’m sorry to hear that Um Fouad…”
“Oh just call me Hala. So how‘s your mom doing? I only met her a couple of times before it happened… I mean the divorce. She always seemed very sweet.”
“Yeah…I really need to talk to dad about her before it’s too late…can you believe her? she’s completely gone out of her mind.”
“Kher, what is it?”
“Somebody must stop her. She wants to get remarried! At her age! Am I not enough for her? He must stop her!”
“But you‘re parents are divorced, so really…”
“She cannot do this. She cannot just abandon me…Next year I will turn eighteen so maybe I should also…”
Safi could feel the tears growing in his throat and threatening to drown his whole entity.
“Oh dear, my dear, come here. Don’t be cruel like that…Don‘t leave your mama.”
Hala impulsively engulfed him with her arms. Even as alien as Safi was to the concept of hugging, he felt found by her warmth.
“Stay…Just stay a while.”
Safi held her back as tight as he could.

Painting by Mario Mously

The Reader

Brilliant! That’s how I would describe “The Reader” in one word. The novel written by Bernhard Schlink is one of the deepest most moving books I have read in a while. It’s one of those stories that don’t just end after you turn the last page. But the disturbing events and questions haunt you and keep you thinking.
The story starts with the relationship between a fifteen-year old teenager, Michael, with an older Hanna (who in today’s Hollywood flashy terms would be called a cougar). The relationship is further complicated by power struggles, crippling dependence, and betrayals. However, their relationship is beyond naïve distinctions of right and wrong. In a sense, it transcends the average mundane love story in a tradition that is reminiscent of Milan Kundera's "The Unbearable Lightness of Being".
Throughout the next chapter we learn about Hanna’s past work in a concentration camp. Ironically, Michael is involved in the court that is supposed to condemn Hanna. The story audaciously humanizes those who have been readily labeled as “villains”. But at the same time, it does not fully exempt Hanna of the guilt and responsibility of what she had committed. Every detail about her character adds complexity and depth. For example, her passion for fine literature in the midst of the horrors of the concentration camp gives her both a humane and a villainous dimension. While the Holocaust is at the center of the novel, it doesn’t stop at that. The questions raised are universal questions on morality, love, and perceptions. The main characters are confused and complex. They are struggling to understand others and themselves, which makes any reader relate to them even if they haven’t been through the horrors, suffering, guilt and shame associated with the Holocaust. Simply put, this is not your average mopey Holocaust story as I first thought. It is deeper. It is more comprehensive. It is brilliant!

The Reluctant Fundamentalist

Ah, finally I’m done with the longest short novel ever! For some reason the 200-page novel entitled “The Reluctant Fundamentalist” seemed to infinitely drag on. Even though, Hamid has a good story to tell, something about a “conversation” in a monologue style seriously turned me off.
The story starts when Changez, a Pakistani from Lahore who studied and worked in the US, presumably accidentally meets a presumably American “tourist”. Changez invites the man for a cup of tea, and almost immediately spills his story about his experience in the US including some really personal details. Although grabbing random tourists and rambling on about my life, isn’t exactly my style, I continued reading the story hoping that something will actually happen. I was disappointed. All the main events happen in retrospect. Their truth and accuracy are even questioned at one point in the story. So, instead of traveling back in time with Changez and feeling involved in the story, I found myself sitting in a café with a chatty Pakistani and a suspiciously anxious American. Although, logically I should identify with Changez, I really felt more for the poor trapped “tourist” who had to sit for the whole evening listening to some guy ramble about a girl he almost had and a brilliant future he almost had. Sorry, but this one-sided conversation only reminded me of those abhorred Eid visits I had to sit through as a child to greet the older members of our extended family.
To be fair, Hamid raises some very good points about alienation, not just post 9/11, but about life in general. Most characters of the novel seemed to me like individual islands, each floating in his/her own direction. Of course, there is also the brilliant comparison between the harsh world of business and that of religious extremists. My guess is that the novel was short-listed for a Booker Prize for the ideas it raises. But apart from that, neither technique nor language really grabbed me.
Anyway, I see that Hamid has another novel entitled “Moth Smoke” about a fallen man from Lahore in an impossible relationship . Mmm, sounds a little familiar. Should I give it a try? Nope. Next, please.

Kissing Hank's Ass

I stumbled upon this piece of “literature” a couple of years ago. Till today, this simple yet witty conversation between 3 people still amuses me. I have to warn you, though, if you are the kind of person who cringes at the very thought of upsetting "Hank", then do not read on. All others, enjoy!

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Kissing Hank's Ass

by Rev. James Huber

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This morning there was a knock at my door. When I answered the door I found a well groomed, nicely dressed couple. The man spoke first:

John: "Hi! I'm John, and this is Mary."

Mary: "Hi! We're here to invite you to come kiss Hank's ass with us."

Me: "Pardon me?! What are you talking about? Who's Hank, and why would I want to kiss His ass?"

John: "If you kiss Hank's ass, He'll give you a million dollars; and if you don't, He'll kick the shit out of you." ........read more

An Ancient Solution to a Modern Dilemma?

There isn’t much argument about the fact that globalization and economic challenges are swiftly changing traditional roles in households all around the world. These changes often mean that women end up juggling full-time jobs, house chores, child care, and marital commitments, leaving them with hardly any personal time at all. Faced with such burdens, women who want to preserve some kind of sanity often resort to one of two options. The first is to give up their ambitions and dreams to remain home and watch life pass them by. The second is divorce. Neither is the lesser of two evils.
So what is the solution? How can a “modern” woman pursue her dreams without breaking her family? Well, actually there is a third option. Polygamy.
I know that the word itself carries a heavy connotation of some sort of backward tribal practice. But the idea of taking more than one wife is something that has been practiced throughout history and is absolutely legal today across many Muslim and non-Muslim countries.
Personally, I never thought that I, a hard-core feminist, would live to say this, but the truth is this middle-ground solution allows women to enjoy the best of both worlds. Not just that, but the whole concept is also economical and environment-friendly. Studies have shown that the recent economic crisis has forced more couples to live together to cut costs. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing considering how much is saved from sharing the same rooftop, energy sources, transportation means, etc. The same idea could be applied here, but just a little more broadly.
Anyways, my first and foremost interest is what works best for hard-working professional moms. After all, who has time nowadays for a full-time marital commitment?
But to be fair, I have to suggest that the same option of polygamy be made available for women who wait endlessly for partners who have fully-loaded schedules.

Painting by Adeline McCarter

See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil

It seems like ages since I have last posted a new entry (well, about a couple months is more like it). Anyways I’m putting my rusty keyboard back to work as the deadline for a paper on public relations and blogs is approaching. And what is more appropriate to explore the subject than blogging about it, right? Here, though, I’ll try exploring it from a political point of view since I’d better not be controversial or sarcastic in my research paper.
Had Shakespeare lived in our public-oriented, technology-laden, twenty-first century, he might have been quoted as writing “to blog or not to blog: that is the question”. Indeed, blogging has become synonymous with many individuals’ existence. Almost like an avatar that reflects your moods, interests, opinions, etc. And since corporations and governments have been showing growing interest in public-anything, such as public relations and public opinion, these virtual podiums readily find an eager audience. A daily dose of democracy, you can call it. But then what does that say about governments that block access to popular weblog sites after detaining a number of bloggers? Stories of particular Syrian and Iranian bloggers come to mind here. Does that mean that these governments are uninterested in practicing democracy, God forbid?
Purely for the sake of maintaining some kind of faith in our leaders, I’m going to revert to optimistic romanticism. So I’m going to go ahead and assume that those governments and leaders are taking the advice of Newsweek columnist Fareed Zakaria in his book “The Future of Freedom, Illiberal Democracy at Home and Abroad”, where he argues that the proper way for developing countries to eventually enjoy the fruits of liberal democracy is for their governments to rule with an iron fist in the initial phase until capital markets are strong enough to eventually demand democracy.
Alas, the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

Not-So Happy International Women's Day

The International Women’s Day website says that women’s day “has been observed since the early 1900’s”. Throughout the rest of the page, it goes on to chronicle some of the milestones in women’s fight for their rights. I do not have any doubts regarding the life-changing achievements of those great women. But my question is what took them so long? Why does it seem that the last century was the only time in history when women dared ask for equality? Civilizations, at least the well-known ones, have been patriarchal throughout thousands of years of human existence. Is that an indication of women’s real place in society? Are we getting it all wrong?
Our daily language and lifestyle has been so entrenched with feminist rhetoric that no one dares ask these questions out loud any more. It is considered so un-PC to question women’s rights that even ultra-conservative Muslims in God-forsaken deserts would try to disguise such insinuations under subtle patronizing tones. Yet history, religion, and even biology seem to conspire against women. I have yet to hear of a male colleague calling in sick because of a really bad PMS!
So fellow feminists, if you will excuse me, I really want to know whether we are doing the right thing or not. I do not mean to snub years of struggle and suffering to enjoy the rights we currently do. I am simply wondering for the hell of it. After all, freedom of thought is what you worked so darn hard for, right?
Of course, this does not mean at all that I will give up driving that monstrous truck any time soon. Nor will I stop going to work, studying for grad school, caring for my lovely 2-year old, or doing house chores. But at the end of one of those daunting days, I can’t help but wonder.

(Painting by Sara Shamma)

Arab Unity after Gaza?

On 15 February, the Doha Debates in coordination with the BBC hosted a heated discussion on whether Arab unity after Gaza in dead and buried or not. A whopping 77% of those who attended the debate voted for the claim that we should start offering our condolences; while only 23% still had a flicker of hope.
I was among the 77%; not that I believe that the recent bloodshed in Gaza is what caused the split among Arabs. The split is merely a symptom of a chronic disease which has roots deep in history.
Arab states, as of their political borders today, were sliced up by the colonial powers mid-twentieth century without the slightest regard for the varied ethnic and religious groups that lived in the region. As a result, these groups found themselves confined within artificial borders, and asked to identify with their newly-created states and governments. Naturally, whenever an Arab state was not gripped by a despot, people busied themselves with fighting each other for power, for land, or just for the heck of it. Lebanon and Iraq are perfect examples of countries that came tumbling down after autocratic regimes were ousted. No, I’m not promoting dictatorship in any way. What I’m saying is that Arab nationalism is still an unripe concept, and sectarian violence will continue to prevail at least until a firmer sense of patriotism is forged. So how can Arabs unite when oftentimes they lack a sense of affiliation within their own tiny artificial countries?
If you think about it, Arab unity is not really dead. It hasn’t been born yet. Yes there were periods in history when some sort of unity prevailed in the region under the Caliphate rule of Umayyads, Abbasids, and Ottomans. But the Caliphate of those times ruled their people under the name of religion not nationalism. And even then, things did not always flow smoothly as some group was always fighting another for power, for land, or just for the heck of it.

The First Century after Beatrice

Amin Malouf writes in his novel The First Century after Beatrice about a disaster that plagues humanity, and sends different ethnic groups adrift. To digress a little before I start my review, I cannot but marvel at the fact that Malouf wrote his novel originally in French, I read it in Arabic, and now I’m writing a review of it in English. So even if some rift tears humanity apart, I believe that we can always count on literature to help bridge the gap.
Now back to the novel. The catalyst in this story is a tiny bean sold on the streets of Cairo as a magical cure from bearing female daughters. A visiting French entomologist stumbles upon the beans and decides to keep some as a souvenir. However, this ill-fated souvenir leads to the discovery of an epidemic that will soon teach humanity the importance of the natural balance between genders.
Apart from the obvious theme of sexism, Malouf also tackles a variety of other controversial issues ranging from racism, international development, to population control. The issue of population control is particularly relevant today which is why the BBC recently published an article on the subject under the title “Population: The elephant in the room”. What is notable, as well, is that Malouf divides the world into mainly North vs. South, as opposed to the traditional West vs. East, which is probably a bit more accurate.
Personally, I truly appreciated Malouf’s ability to incorporate very interesting and relevant ideas in an enjoyable and believable memoir. The novel, however, takes a more apocalyptic tone as we approach the end, echoing the looming gloomy end of humanity. It also adopts the style of a preachy lecture, which inadvertently but inevitably affected my ability to enjoy the novel as a novel. So overall, I’d give it a 3.5 out of 5.

Confessions of a Non-vegetarian

Disclaimer: this article may gross you out, especially if you’re reading it early in the morning while having breakfast.

One time, I just woke up in the middle of the night and couldn’t get back to sleep. Soon enough my mind was wandering and thinking about random issues. Here is one of the whacky thoughts that occurred to me that night: imagine a woman early on in her pregnancy with a vague fetus in her belly not quite resembling a baby yet. Somehow someone for some reason manages to extract this fetus from the womb of the mother, fry it in butter until golden brown, and then eat it for breakfast.
“EEUW!! That is so disgusting” is probably what you’re thinking right now. “That is the weirdest sickest thought I have ever heard” could be another one. But actually it isn’t that weird or sick as most of us apply this concept every morning while preparing omelettes or sunny-side ups. The weird thing actually is the fact that many vegetarians don’t even mind consuming eggs. Hello, eggs don’t grow on trees! They are dead fetuses.
This might be the mummy-hormones turning me into a softy, but can we go back to basics for a minute and think about how we turned so unconsciously cruel. At what point did it become ok for us to grab other creatures, end their lives with a slit of a knife, and simply prey on them?
Of course, the idea of vegetarianism isn’t new at all, as a quick glance around will show. Many practicing Buddhists, for example, refrain from consuming any type of meat. Jesus is thought by many Christians to have been a vegetarian. In Islam it is quite permissible to opt for vegetarianism as a lifestyle choice.
As I mentioned in the title of this article, I haven’t come out of the closet as a vegetarian – yet. While it’s true that I haven’t had any meat or eggs in a while, and the idea of feasting on dead carcasses is troubling me more by the day, I still don’t want to rush into any kind of labels. I already carry more than enough.
Either way, the bottom line is in times of troubled politics in a place like the Middle East, this issue might not be making headlines. Still, it is a grave matter for everyone and it deserves to be given due consideration.

(Painting by Hristian Kunchev)

Ever Wondered How Many Mothers you Really Have?

What exactly defines your mother tongue or native language? Is it the language you first learn to speak? Or is it the language you are most fluent in – if for whatever reason that happens to be different from the first? In such case, could one have two or more mother tongues?
According to the first definition, my mother tongue would be Tagalog, which I lost many years ago. According to the second definition, it would be either Arabic or English, both of which I learned later in life. But I can’t really decide. So do I have more than one mother tongue? Nah, I’m probably closer to a lingual orphan in that sense. The confusion, however, does not stop at the boundary of definitions.
Apart from the obvious function of language to express, a mother tongue also has political implications. Your language of origin is an identity card that defines your group of belonging and loyalties. Choosing to divert from the group by employing another language is often seen as a form of betrayal, and therefore is a source of disappointment within the group.
This simple concept was so much more feasible when different ethnic and lingual groups’ interaction with each other was limited to the occasional exchange of merchandise a few centuries ago. The Arab merchants who imported goods from neighboring countries did not have to worry about MTV Arabia streaming 24/7 right into their living rooms. They were also most likely to speak, read, write, think, and blog in their language of origin. This can be hardly said of today. Physical and virtual interaction, through the web, with people of different cultures and languages has become a part of daily life even in some of the most xenophobic communities. So here’s a thought: language shouldn’t be considered as something you’re born into anymore, nor should it be pegged to a nationality. It would be much more practical for language to be a question of choice.
Would this cause all ethnic groups of the world to eventually adopt a single language if they had the choice? Not, likely. There will always be eager Orientalists and Occidentalists on both sides of the equation to keep it balanced.

(Painting by Filipino artist Angeles)

I Think of You

The collection of short stories entitled I Think of You by the Egyptian-born and Booker-shortlisted writer Ahdaf Soueif is simply one of the best pieces of literature I have read in a while. Soueif’s prose flows beautifully and smoothly just like a poem while maintaining a direct conversation-like connection with the reader. Using that magical combination, the author weaves together a collection of short stories that centers around a number of women struggling with a variety of issues including culture clash, displacement, marriage, families, career, and other themes that are very relevant to our world today. The events in the story mostly take place either under the clear sun of Egypt of under the rainy clouds of England; thus, creating a perfect bipolar medium for contradictions and disorientation.
Even though I truly enjoyed this book and can’t wait to get hold of other stories by Soueif, I have to admit that oftentimes the book was confusing. The first two stories led me to think that the whole book was a number of short stories narrating different periods in the life of a main character named Aisha. However, somewhere in the third story – if I’m not mistaken, I discover that the character’s name suddenly becomes Asia while still retaining striking similarities to the first character. It eventually turns out that there are a number of female characters in the book all leading very similar yet very different lives. Now that I’m mentioning it, I can’t help but think that the book also strikes some resemblance to the author’s life. So a major part of it could be biographical as well.
Anyways, as long as you keep in mind that there is a number of main characters in the book, not just one, the stories will be much more enjoyable and less confusing. So don’t let that dissuade you from enjoying Soueif’s brilliant stories.

A Compass for Globalization, Anyone?

I was pondering this morning on what attracts a vast number of Muslims to extreme conservative ideas and parties. The first respond that occurred to me was that this is an inevitable result of the sweeping currents of globalization. Many Muslims are drawn to extreme conservatism as a knee-jerk reaction in order to preserve their identities against a tsunami of “foreign” ideas and influences pouring in from all directions. But how true is that? Does globalization really push people towards conservatism, or will it eventually create a moderate like-minded population? Terrorism, as a result of extreme right-wing conservatism, might seem spread all over the planet. But on the other hand, is there a generation that is more tolerant of diversity on the rise? Since media is inherently inclined to covering terrorist attacks better than reporting on peaceful protests, liberalism could very well be winning over conservatism without us realizing it.

I still wonder, though, where are all these clashing currents taking us.

(Painting by Elias Zayyat)

Reading "Reading Lolita in Tehran" in Doha

I acquired my copy of the novel Reading Lolita in Tehran by Azar Nafisi in Doha, and read it here. This made it possible for an interesting comparison between two conservative self-proclaimed Muslim societies, one is the Islamic Republic of Iran and the second is the State of Qatar – notice that as much as Qatar is committed to its Islamic heritage, the official name of the country does not mention any reference to religion.
Even though it is quite tempting to discuss Nafisi’s literary approach and tools, I am going to focus in this post mainly on how both societies differ from each other and the ramifications of such difference on Nafisi’s work.
Nafisi describes her country, Iran, as a paradise that was turned into a living hell ever since Islamic laws were implemented. Music and Western literature are banned, strict dress codes are enforced, and arbitrary curfews are imposed, to name just a few of the restrictions Nafisi and her students suffered from. Qatar, on the other hand, reached some type of a compromise that allows in the luxury of Western lifestyle while still preserving its Islamic identity and values. Conservative values of this society are evident in the way most citizens adhere to national dress, although oftentimes worn as a sign of cultural pride rather than religious obligation. Incoming residents and tourists are also expected to dress and behave in a modest way in public. But, again, imported international goods in the form of literature, music, clothing, etc are widely distributed and are part of everyday life.
Apart from the different approach to “Islamic laws” in both countries, there is also the obvious fact that the majority of the population in each country belong to a different sect of Islam. But I won’t delve much into that to avoid igniting any sectarian prejudice.
So which one is the real representation of Islamic society? The smarter question would actually be "is there only one version of how Islamic societies are supposed to be"? Even though many would claim otherwise, but really no one has the authority to decide.
This leads me to my main problem with Nafisi’s novel where she regards the actions of the Iranian government as the sole true manifestation of Islam. Therefore, founds her novel on the idea of lashing both institutions with ruthless criticism. I understand that she is deeply frustrated. However, this shouldn’t turn into a mental blind spot against other possibilities within Islamic societies, as my example shows.
To be honest, I was quite disappointed as I expected a scholar and professor like Nafisi to have sharper abilities in distinguishing between a theory and its varied implementations in real life.

The Schizophrenic Feelings of Arabs/Muslims towards the “West”

I’ve read several pieces by several “Western” authors, and by “Western” I mean either American or European, trying to analyze the causes of the deep hatred felt in the Arab/Muslim world against the “West”, manifested in events like 9/11 for example. Some of them attribute this hatred to the US’s neoconservative-driven policies towards the Middle East. Some of them justify it as mere jealousy of the “West’s” wealth and development, while others simply blame it on the “hostility that is inherent within Islam against anything non-Muslim”.
The truth is this relationship is much more complicated than a simple feeling of hatred and jealousy. Yes, Arabs/Muslims love to hate everything “Western” including media, culture, foreign policy, etc, and almost always blame all their misfortunes on some Israeli/American conspiracy. Yet they still hold feelings of respect and awe towards scientific advancements, social etiquette, and humane values often seen in the “West”. I have to mention, though, that eight years of persistent threat with the iron fist has made it much much harder to express such feelings in public. The clear bias recently favoring Israel in American foreign policy during the war on Gaza is not helping either. But Arabs/Muslims can be won over with the return of diplomacy on the table, especially that there is still some anticipated hope and change in the air.
Take the example of the Syrian people. Even though the very word “Syrian” might conjure images of terrorism, hatred, and evil to the average American ear, most Syrians just really want to deal with someone who is willing to talk and listen to them. To clarify, take the vast difference in reactions towards Mr. Clinton and Mr. Bush. During the Clinton era if someone told a Syrian that he resembled the American President in some manner, the guy would be very flattered. But during Bush’s time, if someone ever had the guts to compare a Syrian to him, well the least I could say is expect some flying shoes. What is ironic is that Bush’s best-buddy attitude would’ve worked wonders if implemented in this area, but alas Mr. Cowboy had to act all tough and turn off everyone.
Anyways, the point is diplomacy, diplomacy, diplomacy. Arabs/Muslims are easily disarmed when someone is willing to treat them as an equal and a partner. Only then will the deeply-buried feelings of respect and awe resurface.

(Painting by Rob Kirbyson)

The Other Side

A counter demonstration against the "Support to Israel Rally", on Tuesday Jan 6 in front of the Israeli consulate, New York City
http://nkusa.org/activities/Demonstrations/20090106.cfm

Israeli activists demonstrate against the war in Tel Aviv http://english.aljazeera.net/focus/war_on_gaza/2009/01/20091109519821785.html

Light Specs of Dust

My worldview in general can be characterized as hopeful and optimistic. But again, that is in general, not all the time. One of the issues where the cynical me can’t help but surface is whenever I come across the whole idea of the randomness of our beings especially when it comes to religion and other belief systems. What rekindled this thought was an encounter with a devout Catholic Filipino proudly speaking of his faith. In my mind, I couldn’t help but think that his ancestors were very likely tortured by the Spanish colonizers and forced into converting to what once used to be a foreign religion. Today, Catholicism is a major influence on many of the country’s policies. The same applies to every mega religion with piles and piles of followers who fervently believe that this is their “free choice”. But the truth is we are what we are due to circumstantial coincidences. We were either born to a certain belief system, or happened to come across it at some point in our lives. Personally, I truly wonder whether I would hold the same beliefs had I been born on the Israeli side of the wall, for example. What if I had been born to a Taliban family? What if my parents were advocates of nudism? What if…? What if…? What if…?
All that taken into consideration, can we really be held responsible for anything we do at all? The Prophet Moses, who was granted the gift of directly conversing with Allah, asked at one point to see Him in order to cast away any doubt. So is it so sinful of me to have my own doubts?
Is this simply the plight of modern relativism on humanity? Had I lived in the middle ages, would I have been a “better believer”?

All these speculations only cause me to take human existence more and more lightly. Like a spec of dust floating whichever way the wind blows it.

(Painting by Magritte)

Remembering Gaza

“Whoever witnesses a wrongdoing should try to change it with their hands; if not, then with their tongues; if not, then with their hearts. Albeit that is the weakest of faith”