Candle duty for Iran (a.k.a. The day the Paris sky turned green)

Small candles spell I R A N

I was standing on the side of the Trocadero plaza, the best vantage point for photos of the Eiffel tower, snapping photos of the demonstration in preparation, when a woman walked up to me, put a long candle in my hand, smilingly said something in Farsi and pointed at the huge candle composition that spelled IRAN - specifically at the bottom of the giant I, where no one was lighting the small candles.



I'm assigned to candle duty? I gladly indulged, of course.

me!

And for the next hour, I wasn't a bystander taking photos I thought would make an interesting blog post, where I would comment on the organisation and the pretty female demonstrators and make jokes about the green balloons and inhaling helium.

For an hour I was, infinitesimal as my contribution may be, one of them.

After a release of green balloons, shortly before sunset, we sat down and tended to the candles.


Save for the last 15 minutes, where people chanted in Farsi - I only joined at the 'Azadi' repetitive shout and just hummed and clapped along the rest of the chants - The entire event was largely silent, as we sat, reigniting the candles that the wind blew - 'IRAN' must shine throughout. And I came to think about the events of the past few weeks, and how my first journalistic 'neutrality' - the 'wait and figure out what happened' - had gradually eroded.

I'm simply stating that as a fact, and I don't feel bad about it really. I have taken sides and I was sitting amongst those whose side I have chosen.

So if I were to draw conclusions from the candle duty, they will be the following:

It takes a lot of people to keep the candles alight.

You will unavoidably burn yourself in the process.

There will always be an unwelcome gust of wind to blow away your candles. And trying to block it with your arm generally fails.

You may be tempted to let the candles die - 'what's the point anyway', you'll think.

Rest assured, you'll never be alone at the task.

If the job gets too hard, someone will always give you a hand.

And even if, at the end of the night, you ultimately fail and the wind emerges as the winner, you'll know deep down inside that, by God, you've given the wind a run for its money - and that you've held back long enough to make a difference.



NB: For more info about the Paris-based protests, check out here or here.

Knowing who's the enemy, and who isn't

What kind of a person does it take to defend the very individual who, second before, was menacingly waving a stick, threatening to hurt her, driving carelessly into the masses with his dirt-bike to scare and disperse the demonstrators?

Apologies for the low res - but you can still clearly see the woman in black, defending the Basiji being attacked.

(source: screenshot from a Euronews report)

His control over his bike was not as good as he thought it was - an abrupt turn and the bike went skidding, sending him lying on his back as demonstrators, angry at the Basiji who actually volunteered for the task of hurting, perhaps killing them, were getting ready to give him a piece of their mind.

At the first kick, he realises the trouble he's in, and raises his hands, begging for the mercy he failed to show moments before.

In comes this woman. This woman in black. She was in that crowd, too. The crowd trying to avoid getting their head blown up but a Basiji gunshot or billy club.

She was his potential victim.
But she chooses to defend him instead.

She physically puts herself between him and the angry crowd, receives a hit or two, but holds still. She holds the man in her arms, screaming at the people to let him go. That he's neutralised, he cannot hurt them anymore - that they should leave it to that.
She holds on, pushes them. Most eventually pass their way.


That wasn't the only such event. Later the same day, a similar scene, this time a woman in light blue. I'm sure it happened elsewhere as well.


I am simply amazed. Where did she find the power to forgive, the strength to stand for him, against an angry crowd? How? Why?


It isn't a 'motherly instinct' or such - it goes far beyond that. It's a vivid conscience, a humane spirit, and more importantly a clear understanding of who the enemy is. These demonstrations/riots/revolution - take your pick - are not the precursor to civil conflict. It isn't Iranians vs. Iranians. It's Iranians, some of them, perhaps a majority, against their government.

And what this woman did was, to me, stronger than a million declaration or speeches.
Before her, I bow in respect. And because of her, I believe in the rightness of her fight.




(Sidenote regarding the Basiji: This blog aims to name and shame them. If you have information..)

Other articles on the Iranian post-elections period:
Ehh... Welcome back, Mr. Ahmadinejad [?]
On disclosing sources in Iran
To You, the new Iran 'expert'

Ehh... Welcome back, Mr. Ahmadinejad [?]

On why our rhetoric vis-a-vis the Iranian elections should change.


Unlike bread riots which may grow proportionally to the violence they are met with, electoral revolts weather away rapidly after they peak.

I consider the Iranian electoral revolt to have peaked this week, which started off with seven dead on Monday, and will end with large demonstrations, dubbed ‘the Sea of Green’ in reference to Mousavi’s supporters colour of choice, around the country and abroad over the weekend - and the additional loss of life that we watched live from Iran.


The world public opinion has displayed unusually strong levels of interest and involvement in the outcome of the June 12th elections, and the ensuing protests across Iran.
Rallies and demonstrations on the streets on western capitals are composed mostly of locals sympathetic to the Iranian people’s demands; a sympathy that was largely non-existent two weeks ago.

Western television and media figures, whom we didn’t know had political opinions, have expressed their clear and unequivocal electoral preference for the Iranian election.

Websites created green outlays. Even Google chimed in, hastily adding a Farsi translation facility on its Google Translate website to facilitate the dissemination of the information trickling out of Iran.


This popular interest is nothing short of impressive, and it is heartwarming to realise the sympathy that the Iranian people has gained over just a few days, a sympathy which I hope will outlast the current crisis.
(Though sympathy for the Ukraine or Georgia hasn't outlived their 'Orange' and 'Rose' revolutions by long).

But the scenario which we don’t seem to consider, and which unfortunately appears more plausible everyday, is that Mahmoud Ahmadinejad’s victory will be confirmed, and he will remain as president for four more years.

If – when – that happens, the simplistic ‘Mousavi good, Ahmadinejad bad’ dichotomy can only backfire, translating into unprecedented anti-Iranian hostility, which the current geopolitical climate simply cannot handle.

President Obama was elected on a platform of dialogue and reconciliation; the ‘Iran’ chapter of his strategy remains the most explicitly cautious, unsurprising given the strength of the –largely republican - anti-Iran current within his own Congress and the hostility displayed towards Iran by West Jerusalem. An American popular backlash could tip the balance towards the retraction of an amenable Iran policy back into the confrontation zone.

In parallel, the returning belligerent Iranian leadership, severely demonized over this crisis, will be even less amenable to ouvertures from countries it will see as having accused it of fraud and openly supported its opponents.

As an international community and world media, we must tone down the rhetoric. Our governments must not declare political preferences in a foreign country – a thing we would find outrageous if positions were inversed. The media must do its best to provide nothing more than facts, and attempt to reestablish a balance in reporting – political rallies and public declarations occur in both camps.

Because truth is, whatever transpires of this crisis, the Islamic Republic and its institutions will remain largely the same. The leading lines of its internal and foreign policy are unlikely to change drastically.


Is there a risk of a self-fulfilling prophecy here – that accommodating the idea of a second Ahmadinejad term could weaken the Iranian opposition and help Ahmadinejad to power? Highly doubtful. The influence of our media on decisions to be taken at the top of the Iranian political pyramid is probably negligible.

As private individuals, we are allowed to express political passion as we see fit, even if we lack the full picture. But as responsible governments, media and international community as a whole, we are compelled to stick to facts, and more importantly – to think beyond a 24 hours window before we act.

On disclosing sources in Iran

Should we or should we not disclose our Twitter sources in Iran?

In one of the murkiest informational environments possible - as we thought information flows were no longer controllable - it's a very tough question.

Because otherwise, how can we differentiate between the real information, the rumours, and the lies?

Some suggest we don't disclose sources, that when RT-ing (new verb?) one should replace the name of your source with 'RT @fromIran' or the like.
The main weakness of this method is obviously that anyone can claim anything came from Iran and pass it forward.

Yesterday I put up a list of Twitterers in Iran, whom were considered as reliable sources of info, and was met with an immediate barrage of objections - some reasonable, some hysteric, some plain rude, all from Westerners and none from Iranians - suggesting that was endangering them.

I took it off until further thinking, though I disagree overall.

here's why:

a) If they chose to write, they are doing so for a reason. They wish to be heard. And none of us armchair observers are in a situation to patronise them and suggest they are unaware of the risks they may be taking, and decide to shut them up of our will.
Our responsibility towards them, is to forward as accurate information as possible.

b) How else can we differentiate between the real and the bullshit? Weak as it may be, we have amassed over the past few days a number of sources we consider reliable. Now more than ever, what appears to be pro-government (or just government) tweeters are trying to spread false information. Twitspam has a dynamic list of those.

Peter from the Road to the Horizon reports this message from a Tweeter inside Iran:

Change_for_Iran: Please RT with my username, they already know about this account and at least it would reduce the number of false RTs & I can block them

and
c) They are writing on a public forum, and the list is available elsewhere anyway. Google it yourself, try!

Furthermore, it only takes a trained monkey to do a search on the #iranelection hashtag and figure out who's posting what.
A more erudite monkey will check out this website for a nicer interface and a dynamically updated info stream.


The primary source for my list, Simon Columbus received, among other things, anonymous emails calling him a 'fucking instrument for murder' - he eventually decided to delete his as well.

But is there really a security hazard?

Probably, yes. It's no secret that controlling information is something the Iranian government is trying particularly hard to maintain.
But I don't think anything we do can increase or decrease it.

So what I'll do is the following. I will not, until further notice, put the list up. Primarily because I don't feel like dealing with the people complaining out there.

But I surely will be re-tweeting with the Twitter usernames of the sources.

Especially that most of them are pseudonyms and nicknames anyway...

And I invite you to do the same.


Update: Several has a somewhat more technical post on the issue and reaches the same conclusion.

To You, the new Iran 'expert'

Yes, you.

Who, until this morning, thought that 'Shiraz' was just the name of a wine

Who's beaming with pride you can now write 'Ahmadinejad' without copy-and-pasting it from a news website

Who only heard of Evin prison when Roxana Saberi was there (Roxana who?)

Who changed your Facebook profile picture to a green rectangle saying "Where's my vote?" even though you don't actually vote in Iran

Who actually thinks that Mir-Hossein Mousavi is a secular
And that his election means that Iran will give up its nuclear claims
And allow you to visit Tehran for Christmas

Who joyfully makes Azadi/Tiananmen square comparisons
Who first heard of Azadi square last Sunday

Who's quick to link to articles you haven't read, debunking other articles you've barely heard of

Who has just discovered that Iran has a (quasi-)democracy, and elections, and the like

Who blinked in disbelief at the images of women - oh, they have women! and they're not in burkas! - demonstrating

Who has never heard of Rezai or Karroubi before (hint: they ran for election in a Middle-Eastern country last Friday)
Who staunchly believes that the elections have been stolen - either by ballot box stuffing, (14 million of them!) or by burning some ballots, or both (somehow?), regardless of the absence of any proof (yet)

... But who nevertheless

Has been tweeting, and re-tweeting, and polluting cyberspace with what is essentially hearsay, rumours, and unconfirmed truncated reports or falsification coming from people who actually know about the realities of Iran's political world and have an agenda:

You know nothing. Abso-fucking-lutely nothing about what happened, or is happening across Iran at the very moment. Most of us don't, actually. What we see is a tiny slice of reality, mind you, what is happening on the main squares in the big cities, under camera lenses.


I hear your objection though:

Yes, you are entitled to an opinion, to formulating it, to blog it, and to discuss it. I do that too. (this my blog after all).

But do everyone, and you first and foremost, a favour.
Learn from the people who know a thing or two about the issue at hand.
Be selective about you read, listen to, and watch. A simple way is to follow an Iranian friend's updates and the links they put up.
(Even the State Dept is reading tweets from Iranians.)

Ask questions more than you volunteer answers.

And when you get a tweet that says UNCONF or 'can anyone confirm?', for Pete's sake, that says "This is potentially bullshit". Don't spread nonsense. Don't spread unconfirmed or unsourced information.

And rather that getting all excited following live some current events taking place in a country you probably cannot place on a map, read analysis of what it means, what the candidates actually stand for, and what the result will mean for the Iranians and the world.

Then, I would be delighted, truly, to read what you have to say.
Until then, please, pretty please - SHUT UP.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

As for what I think? I don't know. I think the results could be fake - and they also could be real. We probably will never know.
And I don't think we're watching a Ukraine '04 redux or a 'Green revolution'.
And I think that the people on the street will tire of getting beaten up by a government that is currently revoking foreign media licenses and will forfeit. We're - well, Iran is - likely stuck with Ahmadinejad for four more years.

And while the troubles on the street are unlikely to lead to a change of government, they'd have had the benefit of showing the Iranian people in a new light - they're normal people, only with more courage than most of us have.


(update: Primer Palabra has translated and made this post available in Spanish.)





Update: Kabobfest has also featured my article!)

Jaffa (Kalat haYam) - عروس البحر - כלת הים - The Arab review of Israeli cinema!

Selection officielle hors competition, Festival de Cannes 2009: I had high expectations. But was disappointed enough that I nearly left halfway through - which would've been a shame because it picks up later, unfortunately after irrevocable damage to the film has been done.

Too many closeups; silly scenes of the type of girl-hugging-pillow-and-smiling-blissfully; and oriental music in all the wrong places. I was thinking I was watching an Egyptian film from the 50s.
I wasn't mistaken: in the end credits, there's a "Conseiller en cinema egyptien", believe you me!

This is the film synopsis I find everywhere:

"In the heart of Jaffa, a city nicknamed "the Bride of the Sea" by the Israelis, Reuven's garage is a family business. His daughter Mali and his son Meir, as well as Tawfik and Hassan, a young Palestinian and his father, work there for Reuven. No one suspects that Mali and Tawfik have been in love for years. As the two lovers are secretly making their wedding arrangements, tension builds between Meir and Tawfik…"

Not only is this synopsis inaccurate - Palestinians call Jaffa the 'Bride of the Sea', not Israelis, who have dumped in it Tel Aviv's household and human trash - but it also describes only the first three minutes of the film, and gives the idea of a Middle Eastern Romeo and Juliet.
And it is anything but.

Here's a better synopsis: Mali and Toufik are secretly in love. Mali's brother Meir is a jerk. During a fistfight, Tawfik pushes Meir who falls on his dick-shaped head and dies. Tawfik goes to jail.
But - Mali's pregnant with the child of the man who killed her brother.
Then...


Spoiler hidden - click to expand!

Ah, you chose to read this anyway. Good for you :)
So Mali informs Toufik she's having an abortion - but decides to keep the baby anyway, telling her parents that the father is a married man and she wants nothing with him (surprisingly, they don't need to know more).
9 years later, the baby is a cute 9-year old (duh) girl named Shiran. Tawfik contacts Mali, who tells him they have a daughter. She argues with her parents - good scene here - and the film ends with Mali and Shiran on the beach, as Tawfik joins them.

The film heavily focuses on Mali and her family (by the way, why does this family eat sausages at every breakfast and lunch? Did the film producer buy sausages in bulk?); the other half of the love equation Tawfik and his father are little more than extras. Which is okay as a directorial choice, but it's leaving us wanting for more.

Dana Ivgi - Mali - does an amazing job, and carries the film throughout.

She could use a pair of tweezers though.

Moni Moshonov, the dad, was also remarkable. Ronit Elkabetz, who's the only name i recognised and I guess is supposed to bring starpower to the film, is awful in here role of a neurotic and over-caffeinated mother.

Hussein Yassin Mahajne, who plays Toufik's father, is (too) calm - resigned, uncomplaining vis-a-vis the social order of Jews being the bosses, Arabs being the workers, receiving insults in silence. I'd have loved to see him more though.

And Tawfik is... okay, sans plus. His face is as expressive as the Queen of Britain's.

And, interestingly, besides providing the chance for a few racial insults (by Meir's and his mother), the 'Arabs vs. Jews' aspect is completely irrelevant. They could've all been Jews or Chinese, the storyline would've held just the same.

I don't know if that was just a publicity stunt, or a shortcoming on the part of the director (as this reviewer thinks), who failed to utilise such a rich source of melodrama, or whether it was purposeful: by normalising race, the film might be a first step towards inclusiveness of Arabs in the Israeli mainstream media.

Part of me wants to give the the director, Keren Yedaya, the benefit of the doubt. But she misses such great opportunities for adding racial depth sometimes that I'm no longer sure.

Anywho. It's an okay film and it isn't, thankfully, a Romeo-and-Juliet. I'm not sure what it is though.

Elections in Lebanon and Iran - think again (edited: more photos!!)

I don't have grand insights to share about the recent elections in Lebanon and in Iran. But I do have a few remarks and questions, which I hope might make you reconsider your own insights.

First, on Lebanon:

Lebanon is one of the few 'democracies' in the region (and surely the sexiest, too).
The Lebanese elections weathered away from our media coverage because 'the good guys' won - or rather because Hezbollah lost, and all's well that ends well. Fine.

Two things I find unsettling about the Lebanese elections:

a. The breakdown of parliamentary seats - by law, 64 are for Christians, and 64 for Muslims (Sunnis + Shias) is simply unrepresentative of the reality of Lebanon. Which everyone over there knows - and which is why no census has been undertaken in Lebanon since the 1970s.

The problem is that attempting to renegotiate this settlement can be very problematic - and as we recall from the past couple of years, when Hezbollah attempted to stretch its muscles over Lebanon - things can very rapidly get nasty, with confrontations on the streets and what not.
So, these were "democratic" elections - with quotations marks firmly embedded.

b. The camp of Saad Hariri, the accidental politician - whom I dislike, partly because of his stupid facial hair but also because he's cruising on his last name to take positions he wouldn't qualify for if he had IQ-tripling surgery - was the one that 'the West' was rooting for. Fair enough, we all pick our horses.

Saad Hariri, trying to assert his independence, declares that
"We are keen on doing what the Lebanese want and not what the U.S., Europe or Israel want".
Alright, grand.

But for him to stand at a press conference, side by side with US secretary of Transportation Ray LaHood, and give his 'the people of Lebanon is the real winner of this election' spiel and then turns to LaHood, switches to English, and says that "we're looking forward to do what is best for the interest of Lebanon, and of the United States" -- does no one find this aberrant??

Imagine it was Hezbollah that had won the elections, and Nasrallah would've stood with an Iranian minister, and said, in Farsi, "we will do what is best for the interests of Lebanon and of Iran" -- wouldn't we all be shouting 'treason'?

I'm sorry, I cannot be fully excited about the Lebanese elections. Not until I see the government working for the interests of its own people -- all of it.


Second, on Iran:

Now I'm rooting for Mir-Hossein Mousavi, and not just because he follows me on Twitter. (yes, he does). But for his stances on personal liberties in Iran, and more importantly because the madman in charge is driving Iran on full-collision course, which needs to be stopped asap.
(and also because my Iran affairs experts Mali said she would vote for him).

So officially - Ahmedinejad supposedly won reelection, with 70%+ of the votes. Mousavi supporters are taking the streets. Internet, text messaging is suspended. Facebook is down. Information trickling informs us of mayhem in the street of Tehran, apparently. Mousavi under house arrest. Mousavi formally challenges election results. Marshal law in Tabriz. Protests in front of embassies abroad.
Etc.
(I'm checking this appparently US-based website, which I know little about but regularly updates its info).

By now we all know where we stand, and the row is still ongoing.

But consider this. Mousavi's electorate is, well, Obama-esque: young, urban, educated. Ahmedinejad seems to have large support in rural areas and lower socio-economic groups.

Add to this the reports that demos in support of Ahmedinejad are apparently no less big that Mousavi's (with the caveat that you won't go to jail for rooting AN but might if you're pro-Mousavi, which alters the numbers).

My point is: the information we get about Iran today is heavily selective. We need to remember that, and perhaps consider alternative sources as well.. and hope for the best. Right now, a recount - allegations of serious fraud (10 million ballots which have no national ID numbers (hence seemingly fake), according to Mousavi's newspaper) need to be answered. And let's hope for as little violence as possible...

"We write Mousavi, they read Ahmedinejad"

(all photos shamelessly stolen from Facebook).

Colbert in Iraq and Obama playing along - WTF?

So Stephen Colbert - the free world's favourite pretentious fake conservative - is broadcasting from Iraq. Which is remarkable, even though I could rant about the hypocrisy of supporting troops engaged in a war you are convinced is morally wrong.

Now the show last monday was quite hilarious. Watch this segment, then scrool down to keep reading:

The Colbert Report	Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c
Obama Orders Stephen's Haircut - Ray Odierno
www.colbertnation.com
Colbert Report Full Episodes Political Humor Stephen Colbert in Iraq

Did you watch it? No?
Okay, scroll back up and watch it now.
I'll wait.

(pom pom pom.. 5 minutes and 15 seconds later...)

Now that you HAVE seen it (haven't you?) I have a question: what the fuck is Obama doing?

No, I am not impressed that he took the time from his schedule to crack a joke on Comedy Central. Nor that he's making fun of his physical appearance like that. And nor that his 'address to his troops' sounded more like the 1-minute audition of an aspiring but lousy comedian than the inspired speech of the chief.
Nor that he's, so to speak, 'taking the name of the commander in chief' in vain. Commander in chief of the armies is something to be treated with respect - not to be used to order a haircut.

Sure, the teenagers watching will like him for it. But I find that silly and damaging to his image.

Tel Aviv Gay Pride parade 2008! (yes, a -little- late.)

As I read that the Israeli interior minister - yet another senior position that went to the extreme-right dumbfucks- was calling for the cancellation of the Tel Aviv gay pride parade, I thought that it was a propitious occasion to write a brief post that would -

a) display my photos from last year's parade!

b) inform Eli Yishai that everyone knows (heck, even I!) that the gay "subculture" in Tel Aviv is not "sub"-anything -- in fact, it so much a part of the city's spirit that Tel Aviv prides itself of not having a gay neighbourhood because there's no need for a geographic distinction, and that therefore he can bark at all the trees he wants in West Jerusalem, this thing won't get cancelled - and that it's only more proof that he doesn't belong in a government but in a house for senile old people where he'll be abused by a 190 pounds male nurse;

c) to shock a little bit a segment of my conservative readership, because I haven't done that in a while (honestly, I love you, dear readers, but I can't help myself);

and more importantly,

d) To give the finger to some people out there. See, I'm a little pissed off. A friend has recently called me, half-jokingly, a 'motabbe3' - a 'normaliser' - (and not even the good geeky kind - the bad one) which is a few inches below being called a traitor.

Which is funny enough, because I'm the one who actually went, lived and worked in Occupied Palestine, while they probably didn't dare join a sit-in in college lest it would be reported to the internal security that they have political activities of sort. But eh.


So anyways. Here are my photos of the 2008 Tel Aviv Gay parade. Those who find them enjoyable will find a few more here. Those who wish to call me a judeogayphile are welcome to do so, for all I care. Suck it.

Now I missed the bulk of the parade - I overslept!- but did catch up with the final party on the beach. It was really fun - and I recognised singer Ivri Lider on stage. People dancing, male pole dancers... It was, well, worth the experience. :)

United States of Rainbows

Oh my gosh, gay men!

Dancer in briefs and boots (!!!) over an ad for condoms

Drag-queen on stage

Religious kid who probably lost his way - and enjoying the drag show..

Pop singer Ivri Lider

the fellow did nothing but wave his flags all day. Poor bastard.

“Half a sentence and they start cheering” – Reacting to comments on Obama’s Cairo U speech

I've never seen my university look so nice. (More images here)

You’ve heard the speech and read the first comments (which I was unable to join, had a very busy week). So instead of making you sit through comments that someone is bound to have made before me, I’ll cut that, and try to cover the various reactions that the speech has received, because they’re just as interesting, but also very telling of us.


1. “The crowd may have been select, but they were cheering like a student audience”

Humorist Ahmed Bahgat very accurately wrote one day (in Tohotmos 400 b-sharta, if you’re a source-hunter) that “Egyptians will only listen to the first half of the sentence, like it, then immediately begin cheering, without bothering to listen to the second half, where the serious message will be – for the other audiences.”

So Obama’s “first half-a-sentence”?
Short of hugging everyone in the audience, asking them how their children are and calling them all ‘habibi’ and ‘ya basha’, he went to the second best:

The “Al-Salam-Aleikum-my-name-is-Hussein-and-I-can-quote-from-the-Quran” combo. And he even said “Peace be upon Them” after naming the Prophets, which the audience LOVED.
He’s one of us! Ya salaam!

So, yes - Actor Sherif Mounir reportedly shouted ‘Obama, I love you’.
Queen Rania digs.
Oh, and Sandmonkey was there, btw.

Bottom line is - Operation: Charm – a total success. He had us at Hello. (or, at Al-Salam-Aleikum).

2. “He is sucking up to us? Bastard! OR How cool!”
Yes, he is, and he is doing it marvelously well.

And we love – just love – for people to tell us they admire the wisdom of Islam and Muslims, find the Azan at 4:00 AM delightful, and admit that creating algebra in the tenth century was the direct reason we now have cars and Ipods.
See above comment for more.

3. “I hate that he quotes the Quran. Enough already!

I love it when he quotes the Quran! First because we
a. Love it when people admit that we’re wise and smarter; but also because
b. There are plenty of people out there convinced that the Quran gives you the recipe to make your very own nuclear weapons to kill infidels. So it's good that they hear that it isn't...


The following set of reactions are similar enough to be answered together:

4==>10. I didn’t like when he spoke of women’s rights/nuclear weapons without mentioning Israel/mentioning Israel/not mentioning terrorism/lecturing us on ‘violent extremism/ etc’: specific projects…

To know why he said certain things, we first need to answer: who was Obama addressing really?
Many levels of audience were being addressed.

His first audience was clearly Muslim populations. It was 13:00 (1 PM) in Cairo, 11:00 in Rabat (and GMT), 18:00 in Jakarta. On the other hand, it was 6:00 in Washington DC and 3:00 AM in Los Angeles – surely not the audience for the live speech.

The second audience would be the analysts, back home in the US, who would swallow the speech, pass it through their ideological lense, and spit it out in chewable little bites for the American audience.

Third and fourth audience would be the Israelis and the Europeans, but they were of less interest.

If we looked at ‘who was he talking to’ for each of these questions, we’d have the answer to most of these questions.

The speech addressed seven issues which we can roughly divide as follows:
“Violent extremism”: First and second audience (Muslim countries, home audience)
“The Israeli/Palestinian dispute”: first and third audience (Muslims, Israel). The bit about the Jewish suffering --> holocaust --> founding of Israel, which upset many,
“Nuclear weapons” (with a reference to Iran): all
“Democracy” first and fourth (Muslim countries, Europe)
“Religious freedom” Second - mainly for the christian pressure groups and others in the US. They can be very annoying sometimes.
“Rights of women” second and fourth, then first
“Economic development” first.

(Incidentally I have to interrupt myself and ask -- do you agree, or do you have a different take? Comment!)

Based on this, we need to know that plenty of what upset us – wasn’t there for us in the first place. The suffering of Jews was addressed to the home and the Israeli audience, not us.


Nevertheless, I appreciated his choice of wording – such as not using the word Islamic terrorism, which we usually take like a slap in the face.

11. “But he didn’t say that the settlements should be removed, just ‘stopped’, whatever that means” – and other comments on the Palestine component of the speech

Very true, and I agree: but to be honest I didn’t want emphasis on Palestine in this speech, and that small paragraph was all I could hear on news analysis shows for the two hours immediately after the show.
No. Muslim world and Arab world are different things, and I don’t want them to overlap.
So while I welcome his comments though deem them insufficient, I don’t think that’s the right arena.

12. “All talk, no action”
My favourite of all!!
What the f**k did you expect? Another ‘De Lesseps’ moment, where Obama would say the codeword ‘bananas’ and the Marines would raid the settlements, just in time for him to announce the success of the covert mission by the end of his speech?
The speech was the action itself. It’s a step in the right direction. Now, as my friend Mohamed says – the ball is in our court.

(For non-Egyptians, 'De Lesseps' was the codeword in 1956 speech by Gamal Abdel-Nasser for his forces to nationalise the Suez Canal, then under French and British control. Egyptians love the story so much there's a film about it).

13. “He can’t pronounce ‘Al-Azhar’ and ‘Hijab’, he should just refrain!”

Well, he couldn’t. So bloody what. He tried. Much respect.


14. And, to finish, my own comment:

The juxtaposition of “Hamas must accept past agreements...” and “the Israeli government...” is incorrect. The Israeli government is the equivalent of the Palestinian Government, which is abiding by past agreements. Asking Hamas to acknowledge Israel should take place the day we ask the Yesha council and other settlers organisations to acknowledge a Palestinian state.
More on that in a future post, perhaps.


Addendum - links:
Jon Stewart, always.
Huff Post, Wajahat Ali - Meet the Muslims: Obama in Cairo

What do we really expect from Obama's Cairo University visit?

A few months back, people in Cairo congratulated one another for the election of Barack Obama. And the American president, while perhaps failing our wild expectations regarding the Middle East’s main dossiers, has so far committed no faux-pas that would make him lose credibility or his stellar reputation in the Egyptian street.

And tomorrow, Obama will be addressing a message to the Muslim world. He has chosen to do so from Cairo, and has selected my alma mater, Cairo University, as his pulpit to do so. Flattered, I must say.

The speech will be a remarkable and unique ‘extended hand’ to the Muslim world, where the President will emphasize 'broader engagement, based on mutual interests and respect'.

It is therefore amazing to observe the level of scepticism taking over the Egyptian independent press and blogosphere. A search for the hash tag #CairoSpeech on Twitter gives a dynamic view of those discussions. Global Voices translates some of the opposing voices’ arguments.

A justifiable first criticism regards the financial and logistic costs of the visit, in terms of renovations of the University, cosmetic embellishment of the streets, and the bringing to a complete halt the city for an entire half-day. But the choice of such a significant venue rather than the conference hall of a Sharm-el-Sheikh hotel, is undoubtedly worth it.

We can summarize most serious arguments against the Cairo speech as follows: what the US president has done so far, and what he will offer during this speech is not enough, and as such this event does not deserve to be held, nor does it warrant the sustained interest.

And, indeed, it is not enough. When the US president can only bring himself to offer a "we are not at war with Islam" as he did from Turkey two months ago, while the world is rapidly moving towards increased cooperation, trade liberalisation and synergetic partnerships, then it is indeed not enough.

And rightfully needs to be criticised.

But we need to realise that the context is not propitious for that. Yet.

For an American president to invest of his own credibility in building bridges with the Muslim world, which, for a decade or longer has only been seen through a security lens, for him to invite Muslim Brotherhood parliamentarians to the speech, for him to push forward a somewhat more balanced - still unequivocally pro-Israeli but notably less so than his predecessors - Middle East policy, for him to talk to the Egyptian people and beyond from a decidedly local forum in the absence of the head of the regime, is a belated but no less important investment.

One for which he needs rapid returns on.

Too many pressure groups in the US - from the Republican party to pro-Israeli groups - view the Muslim world, and particularly the Arab world, through the visor of a shotgun, waiting for an excuse to shoot (un-)diplomatic missives at the region or at the US president, to point at the failure of his détente attempts and break into a childish ‘I told you so’, and to push for a return to a violent, suspicious, inimical US foreign policy in the Muslim World and in the Arab world.

For all that, he must be vocally supported, and his actions rewarded. The American voter needs to realise that the President is making the right choices, and that we appreciate, agree, and respond favourably to this opening of foreign policy.

Even though it isn't deserved yet.

We imperatively must shed the "I want it all and I want it now" attitude.

The counterfactual to Obama's gesture is not a bigger gesture, but a rapid reversal to the security-first approach to the Muslim world.

As the recipients of this overture, limited as it may be, we need to realise that the US, president and people, are unaccustomed to the idea of friendly relations with populations they have only learned to view with hostility. Barack Obama is feeling his way around the Middle Eastern mess, testing the limitations of his own power at home and abroad.

And if, tomorrow, we dislike his speech, we need, almost pedagogically, to suggest improvements, rather than burn the first draft of what could turn into a unique chapter of American-Muslim world relationships.

Photos of Saudi Arabia

Saudi Arabia is an almost boringly normal country.

Emphasis on almost, and on boring.

Some things in Saudi are plain ridiculous (women not driving; the absence of cinemas, theatres, etc in the entire country); some are appalling (their kafeel system, the very widespread racism, and Saudi food, composed of rice and meat and combinations thereof).

But the truth is, it doesn't have to be that annoying if you know your way around it. (And if you're not there for too long.)

While being no fan of Saudi Arabia - and that's an understatement :) - I had a good time this time!

After contemplating going to Madain Saleh, the Petra-like Nabataean ruins in the North, logistics - the nearest airport being 400 km away - made it hard to plan on short notice.

So I did settle on the sea. Saudi does have the longest Red Sea coast, and the underwater fauna may indeed be as impressive as the Guardian claims it to be.

Didn't dive but did go snorkeling and spear fishing with friends.
Yep.
And yes, I caught fish. True, I didn’t get to eat it – Tarek being the only one of us married (therefore having an actual grill – and having to justify the day-long absence to the lady) took it all home.

Sushi.

Essentially you just need to drive to the coast, part 3 meters away from the sea, and dive – and it’s worth taking advantage of, before the Saudi shore becomes another Hurghada.

Divers – now you know.

Makeshift camp - a little shade in the desert. 4x4's have replaced the camels...

A few of you expressed curiosity regarding "life in the Desert Kingdom".

So below are a few more photos of Saudi, in case you wanted to know what it looks like around here...

I first uploaded the photos to Flickr (they're here, if you're big on Flickr, ya Lisa) but those bastards want to charge 25$ to display my older photos.WTF?

So I'll stick with Picasa instead. Click here for the Saudi Arabia album...

Football game, Messi vs. Davids. Davids' sandals were the goalposts for the goal I (badly) guarded. I was promptly fired.

Yes, they have hypermarkets, too.

Pyramid of beer - though (most?) people can only get their hands on that disgusting non-alcoholic beer..

Indoors (real) palm trees at the mall. For no obvious reason.

A state 'uniform' creates all sorts of new concerns. (warning by the escalator, Plaza mall)

I always laugh when I see this - they cover up, with a white opaque sticker, the packages of underwear (for public decency). Result is that you don't know what you're buying, so the shopkeeper opens up the package and displays the panties. Hilarious.
(and yes, they cover up male underwear too.)

I like the blue keffiyeh dress. Though I'm unlikely to see anyone wear it here..


On this plaza take place the corporal punishments (yep, chop-chop square)

The Saudi Atomium? Nope, the entrance to the Chemistry school, King Abdul-Aziz Uni.

Remains of a pre-World War 1 Anglican church in Jeddah.


At a cafe. It reads "Singles section": unaccompanied men sit in a separate section. The "family section" is where parties including women (so, families, couples, and groups of women) sit.

Oh, yeah, that was a Starbucks, by the way.

I like this (unfortunately hazy) photo from a couple of years back. Prophet's mosque, Medina.

Go here or here for the rest of the photos - then come back here to comment!

Live from Saudi Arabia - Of Rituals, Other People’s Prayers, and what pilgrimage's all about (yep, all in one post)

Just back from Umrah, the minor pilgrimage to Mecca – and minor it truly is: it takes roughly 2 hours.
I am writing a second entry, about random aspects of life in Saudi (and plenty of photos!!) which I will post soon, but for now I ask you to kindly bear with today's somewhat more 'spiritual' entry...


I have been to Mecca a few times (well I do need to make up for my numerous vices, so...) and I usually enjoy performing the religious rituals of Umrah and Hajj. First because I'm usually accompanied by family, and it’s nice to share that experience, and of course for the religious value of it, a subject I surely won't address here.

But I have always been skeptical about the purpose of the rituals themselves. Why do we walk around the Kaaba – a block of brick that was built and rebuilt several times over the course of history – seven times, counterclockwise? What’s the deal with the Black Stone? Etc.

Skepticism is an old tradition in Islam – Omar Ibn El Khattab, Islam’s second caliph (3rd ruler, hence!) is recorded to have smirked at this whole ‘Black Stone’ business, and have said, addressing the stone - “I know that you’re nothing but a deaf and mute stone, and can do no harm or good; and had I not seen the Prophet kiss you, I would never have”.

Knowing Omar’s fiery temper, I’d bet much that he probably cursed, too, but historians wouldn’t report it... Oh well.

Omar had wifi in his tent. (found this when I googled his name...)

I realised today that rituals only serve insofar as they are just that: ’rituals’. No logical direct good can come as a repercussion for standing there or doing this.

The ritual, however, serves to focus this religious energy on something. Like your first love as a teenager – you just ‘had all that love to give’ and needed a personification for it, and you came up with that 12th grade hottie who doesn’t even know you exist yet haunted your diary and dreams. Well, pretty much the same here.

More importantly, its purpose is to provide a ‘Qibla’, which you may know as referring to ‘Mecca’ (because it’s what we pray towards) but linguistically simply means ‘target or concentration zone’ . (hence, you can say that Washington DC is the qibla for people who want to work in national politics, for example).

A shared qibla. And it is there that people from everywhere, meet to pray to the same God, to repeat the same moves, the same words, the same prayers of health and happiness and heaven.

Watching the Kaaba, and the crowds
(ya Balconera! This one's for you!)

I think that was God’s plan. He probably doesn’t care much whether we turn counterclockwise or hop on one foot. It’s about us coming together. That’s the beauty of the pilgrimage.

It’s not the Kaaba, it’s the people. Not the prayers, but those who utter them.
Not the accents, but the thoughts in a thousand languages behind them.
Not the verses sang in Arabic, but the heartfelt, nondescript, haphazard prayers in Urdu, Farsi, English, Turkish, or rural Algerian, sharing their love - or sometimes, anger - at God, or simply asking for happiness, a good job or a promotion, forgiveness, winning the lottery or the football cup, or something else altogether.

My pilgrimage is about them.

About the group of elderly Turks, with one person reading the prayers aloud in a slow, accented Arabic, with the others repeating.

The Syrian woman, who, dressed all-in-white, sports fluffy pink socks.

The Indonesian group – color-coded, as always. Today’s were checkered in white, black and red.

The child in his pilgrimage outfit, running against the crowd to skid on the shiny marble, laughing.

The Pakistani woman, sitting on the floor, lifting her hands up to the sky and praying, while her adorable but incredibly pesky 4-year old is whining and grabbing her fingers.

The Egyptian couple, from the rural south, holding tight to the perfumed cover of the Kaaba and weeping their prayers.

And – always, thank you God – that incredibly, incredibly beautiful Afghani green-eyed woman who makes you skip a breath.

This is what I believe in. This is, in large part, why I keep coming back – to eavesdrop on other people’s prayers. Which make me, I think - I hope - a better man.

Outside of the Kaaba complex

The Safa and Marwah walkway - part of the ritual of Hajj and Umrah is to walk that path, attributed to Hajar - Ibrahim (Abraham)'s second wife, mother of Ismail (Ishmael), and our great-great-granny (for Arabs, that is).

Dead Aid: Deadly Arguments (updated: link at the bottom)

Presenter, (smiling and ending the discussion): "Let's hope you're right. Thank you very much for talking to us".
Guest: "Thank you very much. And I AM right".

The very humble guest in question is Ms. Dambisa Moyo, talking about her book ‘Dead Aid’ on Australian television.

‘Dead Aid’ is the new development book en vogue, which offers unsophisticated analysis to come up with an unusual conclusion: aid is the cause of everything that’s wrong in Africa. Not ‘associated with’, not ‘exacerbates’: is THE cause.

Her devil is the ‘aid industry’, apparently a cabal of academics, NGOs, governmental and multilateral organisations whose apparent raison d’être is to spend aid money, purposefully or inadvertently harming their recipients to maintain them in poverty.

Let’s dig deeper into her arguments.

Before I comment on the book though, allow me to underscore that I cringe when an author is supposed to be read just because they are African (or Arab, or Muslim, or Faroese). A claim, truth be told, never made by the author, but repeated by her supporters, including even in the foreword to her book.

Especially that she spent her early childhood, and has lived since college freshman year – from 1990 until today – between the US and the UK. (doing the math, she must’ve spent her teens, perhaps 10 or 11 years, in Zambia). A fact that I would never hold against her if she weren’t brazen enough to criticize foreign aid fundraisers for ‘not even living in Africa’ - which she doesn’t either.

When someone is presented as giving the ‘Arab view’ or a ‘Bengladeshi perspective’ or such thing, unless they are indeed the foreign minister of Bangladesh or actually represent a view we have no access to – say, Burmese opposition - they’re just seeking a legitimacy they would never hold under solid academic scrutiny.

And this is what this book seems to me.


Past the first two introductory chapters, I decided to add ‘Dead Aid’ to my pile of toilets readings. This is no insult: it’s just a categorization. Said readings need to have certain characteristics, namely be enjoyable, simply written, light-headed, and not require much mental effort.

It does ask a good, albeit often asked question: why hasn’t aid fulfilled its promises in the past years.

But that’s almost all the book’s worth. Save for a few recommendations straight from an Ec-Dev 101 class, the rest is either useless, flawed, or seriously harmful.

The author begins with her conclusion – that aid is a horrible horrible thing – and works her way backwards, attempting the build her case, but only succeeds in making shady correlations and passing them for straightforward causality. Her counterfactuals simply aren't. (diamond-rich Botswana? Really?)
I lost track of the number of times sentences are introduced by ‘may be explained by’... (the real answer to which is consistently – “no, it isn’t, stop bullshitting’).

Or, since we’re looking at introductory locutions: her “there was a sense in some quarters that...” and builds upon the belief of those unidentified ‘some quarters’ to make her point, reminding me of the joke PhD rules: writing ‘there is agreement that...’ in your thesis means ‘two guys at the bar agreed with me’; ‘widespread agreement’ means ‘the bartender agreed, too’. Ms. Moyo seems to operate on the same principles.

Of course, if any graduate student actually referenced and footnoted their paper like she did, they’d be fired for plagiarism.

I happen to have read Collier’s “the Bottom Billion” shortly before I read ‘Dead Aid’, and while she borrows many of his arguments and research (there’s very little original research in ‘Dead Aid’) she reaches different conclusions than he does; while Collier’s recommendations usually involve highlighting the detailed point that needs reform – reform is the name of the game for the man, a reasonable position indeed – Moyo’s conclusion is invariably that aid is the devil.
It gets frankly ridiculous after a few chapters.

Added to this her inability – rather her unwillingness – to differentiate between types of aid or to acknowledge that aid has been successful when properly targeted. And not just humanitarian aid, which she hints at as being ok at some point before falling back into the 'all aid' mantra.

Aid critics before her generally fell into two categories: either they assumed that aid is yet insufficient (Sachs, UN Millennium Development Goals...) or, such as Bauer and Easterly, whom she references, called for an in-depth reform of the aid system.
Oh, and they all did their own research...


Her recommendations?

The author advocates the recourse to world market bonds, with such convoluted mechanisms – including pooled credit ratings, which the better rated countries will never agree to anyway – that simply won’t happen.

Ditching cheap World Bank loans in favour of more expensive bond markets – because they entail ‘credibility’, and, quote "more credibility equals more money, equals more credibility, equals more money and so on".

Imagine you’re a graduate student: following her logic, you should refuse a scholarship and get a commercial bank loan instead, because it would push you to work harder.
Which it might, sure. But this expensive money will have to repaid: Hmm. That’s not a concern for her, it seems.

And, apart from that – foreign direct investment, and trade.
Hallelujah.

We’ve been hammering the same two topics for the past two decade, if not longer. We know that this should be the path out of poverty for the developing world. Ms. Moyo is twenty years late.
And while she candidly blames the fall of export revenues on Western protectionism – which is harmful, I agree – she is euphoric about China’s investment in minerals and primary goods – the price of which are unstable and generally decreasing, making her key solution a very temporary one.

She celebrates AGOA and EBA (preferential trade concessions by the US and the EU, respectively, aimed at the poorest countries) while we’re already thinking about the phasing out of least developed countries’ preferences under WTO.

Oh. And microfinance. Sure. I think Muhammad Yunus is a god, but Grameen Bank loans won’t pay for civil servants salaries. Nor for physical infrastructure.
‘Okay, you 12 million people, you’re a nice lending group now and are all in charge of monitoring one another or you’re not getting the second half of your bridge!’

And to convince, or scare her ‘Western’ readers into following her ‘Dead Aid proposals’, she uses, in the same breath – I kid you not – global terrorism AND “the Chinese are coming”!

Why the hype, then?

Normally a book like that would fall into oblivion very rapidly: it hasn’t (yet). Why is that?

Well, looking around the development arena it is true that Africans, and women, are underrepresented, and an articulate African woman makes a great talk-show guest. Great for ‘Young Global Leaders’ listings, for Time Magazine to profile. It's silly but it's true.
Compare her, for instance, to aid-skeptic Bill Easterly, a remarkable scholar but a much less televised persona.

More importantly, Moyo’s recommendation will be very appealing to many aid-fatigued observers: ‘cut all aid to Africa within 5 years’, she says. Fantastic election material for wannabe politicians: “we will save all the money we send to Africa – and save them in the process” sounds like a great sound bite in a speech! In these times, particularly, when aid programmes are expected to be curtailed with the current world economic crisis, this plan is music to many ears.

I’ll add to that some great marketing, and embarrassing mistakes on the part of those who disagreed – chiefly the One campaign, whose internal emails were leaked and allowed for a mini-scandal to be exploited by the ‘Dead Aid’ publishers.


Ms. Moyo must be challenged – in an academic arena, not on Oprah. That should easily put her arguments down once and for all. It is sad that it has come to that, and I am confident she could’ve contributed positively to the aid debate, rather than hammer her damaging one-point plan. Because anyone who has worked in foreign relief knows that, very often – aid saves lives.

Less than we want, less than it should; but we’re working on improving it. ‘Dead Aid’ isn’t.


*UPDATE - Jeffrey Sachs has a word to say about Moyo's 'ideas' - and he is pissed. A short and good read.

Life's for Sharing

13,500 people getting together, in the middle of Central London, just the time of a song. "Hey Jude". If it doesn't make you smile...




It's not a fully spontaneous event, of course - but it nevertheless remains very touching. All those people, sharing a mic and a good laugh with complete strangers..

Isn't it grand??

It's the latest spot in the T-Mobile campaign, "Life's for Sharing". Back in January, they also did this fantastic ad, where 350 people suddenly start dancing at Liverpool street station. Passers-by joining in, people taking photos to 'share' with others...

(Fans of such impro and flash-events will also remember the one at NYC's Grand Central station last year, when 207 people simply froze in the middle of the main hall.)


It sounds silly, but little things like that make me think that our world might not be completely going to hell after all.

Swine Flu: World Roundup, and what to do now that we're all going to die

I’m not quite sure how the first swine flu patient contracted it. Especially that ‘patient zero’ is a cute Mexican 4-year old so it’s unlikely he’d have doinked Miss Piggy.
You never know though, at his age, I thought she was pretty hot, but then again I was a very precocious boy.

But that’s irrelevant now, since we’re all going to die anyway. Like we died of SARS and of bird flu. And foot-and-mouth disease. You know.

(by Carlos Latuff)

It’s been fun though. Here's is what the world has been doing:

- Some people have been panicking. (D'oh).

- Some have been raiding drugstores for hand sanitizers.

- Plenty of people have been wearing those masks, making Michael Jackson pass for a visionary.

- Israel decided to call it “Mexico Flu” because pigs aren’t kosher. (though they’re doing it wrong. It’s a disease therefore it’s supposed to be associated with something bad, so the few children that will survive the world epidemic will remember to never eat pork. Right?)

- France, too, has occasionally used “Mexican Flu” and “North American Flu” in the press.

- So the European Commission, in all its might and glory, suggested a new name: "Novel Flu virus". Thank you, Europe.

- In France also, television is flooded with seriously insipid advertisements for pork meat, and since they didn't have the time to think out a good marketing campaign it's mainly a guy wearing a pink suit carrying a tray of cold cuts jumping all over the screen. They titled the campaign 'we're all crazy about pork'.

- In the USA, Republicans decided to blame it on Democrats. Yes, really. And some even decided to name it after one.

- Jon Stewart decided to make fun of them all.

- In Canada, apparently, pigs will be complaining soon: a sick farmer has infected his pigs. Yep. They're that powerful. (will Canadian pigs be rounding up humans anytime soon?)

- And apparently the World Health Organisation decided to rename the virus “Influenza A (H1N1)” , under pressure of the pork industry and to save the animals from the same draconian measures that faced chickens two years back, especially that there is no proof of animal-to-man transmission.

- Egypt has been slaughtering its pigs anyway, which was funny enough because apparently the government first turned to the Egyptian church for permission (because it’s mainly a Christian business, seemingly) and the Church replied “Dude, I dunno, you’re in charge of public health, not me” – but pig farmers are angry, and there are conspiracy theories that the government wanted to hurt Christian businesses or, even better, that they’re killing the local livestock because it benefits some foreign companies of which – get this – the head of the Egyptian church is a partner.

Anywho.

Here’s what you need to do now.

- First, check if you’re infected by taking this very scientific test.

- Then, and knowing that you’re really dying now, go and infect many many people with this awesome game. Believe me, after the first level, you’ll actually enjoy passing on the virus.

- Then you can go and join other people on Twitter who have been trying to come up with better names for the disease. My favourite so far? “The day the pigs flu”. (and while you're there, follow my Twitter updates).

- If you care about facts and all that crap, you can check the WHO's dedicated website.

- You can also read Peter's post about how many people die of 'regular' flu every year, and laugh at yourself for panicking.

As for me, I considered stocking up on Tamiflu but then realised that I live in a socialist country (by now, don’t we all?) and that the government will give it to me, free of charge. (except if you're in a developing country, then you're screwed).

I also considered buying hand sanitizers and packing on tissues every time I leave the house. Then I realised it was stupid because preventing my infection would necessitate sanitizing OTHER people’s hands, not mine. And if I do get swine flu, I’m taking as many of those healthy bastards as possible with me.

This post will be updated as new funny stuff around the world happens.

Happy epidemic!

The smell of the Métro

The Paris subway – the Métro – isn’t just where every Parisian spends on average 15-20 hours every month. It’s a full, multi-sensorial experience.

And it has a very distinctive smell, which seems to run along the rails of all fourteen subway lines.
It’s an odd mix to say the least..

It's the breath of a million people,

It’s the wet hair of the women who just showered, and the sweat of the men who didn’t have the time to. Those guys are easy to spot, they are also trying to comb their hair in their reflection in the window;

It’s the too-sugary perfume of the college girls, laughing loudly as they chatter the distance away;

The strong coffee from the travel coffee cup with the guy in a suit - the cup he brought home from his semester in the US: the French aren’t into taking their coffee to go;

The Romanian homeless guy, smelling like smoke and dust, who just stepped in, intoning his habitual ‘bonjour-messieurs-dames-desolé-de-vous-déranger... une-petit-pièce-ou-un-ticket-restaurant...’;

The cheap ink of all the free newspapers people read to pass the time of the long ride, and which they often leave on the seat before getting off, just like... a newspaper on a train! Yet they take them, sometimes - either because their job is less interesting than a subway newspaper, or they want to take it home for the televisions listings on the back page;

Maybe even a hint of pheromones from this young couple diligently kissing – the 'public' in PDA is taken very seriously around here. Most memorable were the couple kissing - nay, making out, inside the Notre Dame cathedral.. ;

Oh, and some spilt beer from yesterday’s late night commuters. A green bottle might even roll from under the seats and hit your foot as you sit; you’ll look down, raise your foot, and let the bottle continue its trip to the other side of the carriage, until the train stops and it goes rolling all the way back again;

And it’s the captive mass of air renewed only by giant ventilators, and those industrial air fresheners which, rather than neutralizing the smells, add to the entire olfactory mélange.

God, I really hate this city.

Why is the world more sympathetic to the Israelis than to the Palestinians? A non-accusative explanation

I am aware that many readers disagree with the very premise of this article, and I shall answer them in two very brief points before I move to the article:

a. I am talking about the average world citizen. The few yet vocal 'Palestine supporters' are not average - first, they can generally place the West Bank on a map. And they're younger and generally more activist overall. And, most importantly, they're a minority.
and
b. If the world was more sympathetic to the Palestinians, the conflict would be long over.

Now I'll return to my main argument, if you please. And relax, it's a non-accusative explanation, I said..

********

Yes, there are biased news sources, pressure and advocacy organisations, and tons of prejudices and beliefs people have. That we all have.
I’m not discarding them. But there’s a simpler and deeper explanation:

The world can relate to the Israeli plight. It just makes more sense. It’s simpler.

Let me explain.

Imagine citizen Lambda in a random developed country. The Netherlands, or Australia, or something.

On the evening news is the story of a woman who has lost a child, Alpha, in a suicide bombing in the market in Jerusalem. He was 17 and had a cute girlfriend and was happy, etc etc. Woman is crying. Interviews with the family. Childhood photos. Scenes from the hospital. The bombing location shown repeatedly, ambulances, testimonies from bystanders, images of bits of broken cars.

It’s a simple, unidimensional, unequivocal tragedy. Mrs. Lambda, eating her dinner, will go ‘owww, poor baby, and his poor mother’. She’ll also remember that her next door neighbour went to Israel last summer and showed her those photos of Jerusalem. “I’d better tell her about this”, she thinks.


Now also on the news is the story of 17-year old boy Beta killed during a demonstration against a wall in some godforsaken village somewhere. He was shot in the head by a rubber bullet. There are images of people walking on a hill, of kids with flags, of boys with their faces covered with keffiyehs throwing a stone or two. Then plenty of smoke, some people running, soldiers filmed from afar with their big transparent anti-riot shields, and the voice-over talking about a wall, and land annexation, and that the boy’s family’s lands have been confiscated, and that his older sister was killed by an Israeli army incursion in 2003.

A big mess.
Mrs. Lambda, now at her dessert, will go ‘what the heck are those crazy people doing to each other’ and then ‘kids, don’t watch that, it’s too violent, damn news broadcast!’ and proceed to switch the television off.


Add to this the fact that the first story will be on the news for the following 6 days, with more and more details, Alpha’s teacher saying how great a student he was, his heartbroken grandma sick of sadness, details of his funeral, his mother crying at the cemetery, the occasional photo of the perpetrator of the attack.

During that time the story from the West Bank will be long forgotten because probably nine others would’ve been killed since. Beta’s name was rapidly forgotten – those Arabs with their complicated names that foreign newscasters never get right anyway – was rapidly followed by a series of other nameless people, with more or less messy stories, of checkpoints and confiscations and house demolitions.

We'll never know who killed him, of course. His name was briefly back two days later when the news showed a demonstration of scary-looking people carrying Beta’s dead body and waving flags, people shouting things, with the voice-over ‘Hamas vowed revenge for the death of Beta, who was killed two days earlier in a demonstration in Nil’in’.


And on its Sunday edition, a newspaper will devote a full page to the Middle East conflict; they'll split it in two, in an effort for 'fairness'.

On the top half will be a beautiful photo of a smiling Alpha with very detailed coverage of the events.
On the bottom half, they couldn’t go with a photo of Beta because the resolution of the photo his mother had wasn’t good enough, so they’ll go with a photo of people queuing up at a checkpoint or of the demo where Beta was killed, with some coverage of the events of the death of the other nine but it’s too much info so they’ll just talk about ‘series of events’ and ‘clashes with the Israeli Defense Forces’ leaving ‘several dead’.

We cannot blame the media for not devoting the same particular attention to individual Palestinian stories: their job is to put the new stuff on the 8 pm news broadcast. Unfortunately, there are news in Palestine every 6 hours.

That's why the average person abroad knows the name of Gilad Shalit, but will fail to name a single one of the 10,000 Palestinian prisoners in Israeli jails.

And which is also why things like occupation, land confiscations, blockades, settlements, daily humiliations and discrimination aren’t news: there’s nothing new about them, going on for decades upon decades.

It really isn’t anyone’s fault – except, you know, the Palestinians because too many of them die and we can’t keep track, and being subject to multi-faceted violence and coercion, rendering them a troublesome nameless mass that we, as outside observers, simply cannot relate to.

Nightbus in Paris, 4 am - let's talk about race

A drunken argument between a black man and a white woman leads to the most honest discussion about race I heard in France so far.

“I don’t like you”, repeated, ad nauseam, Very Drunk Black Dude, his unusually long right index extended. “I don’t like you”.

“Go back up your coconut tree! It’s my country, if you don’t like it here, go back to your country! Up your coconut tree! You fucking bastard!”, shrieked drunk and angry Miss White Trash.

“France is feeding you! You don’t like us, leave! Get the fuck out of here!”

“Go screw yourself”, stoically answers Very Drunk Black Dude.

Worth mentioning that from their looks, Miss White Trash was probably on welfare and the black guy on minimum wage – the direction of ‘who is feeding whom’ may be the opposite she claims it to be.

Other people’s reactions were interesting. In the land of political correctness, where ‘White’ and ‘Black’ are hushed words (black is replaced by “d’origine Africaine - or Antillaise, if they’re from the French Caribbean colonies - and Arab by “Maghrébin”), that’s not the kind of discussion you’d hear often.

People gasped on occasion – and starting discussing between themselves, on tones of a schoolgirl’s “Ow-my-Gawd-she­-did-NOT-just-say-that!”.

Anywho. Driver calls the police, which catches up with the bus, and comes on board, approaching Very Drunk Black Dude.

Act 2.

“Hey, why him? Why the black guy?” objects a Black Guy with Glasses.

The police disregard him, get Very Drunk Black Dude off the bus, which drives off.

“Why hasn’t anyone of you objected to what just happened? They took him because he is black! And you, white people, are sitting there, satisfied, because the black man is gone!”

I check out the guy. Well groomed chap, fancy square glasses, and holding a book – and, as a rule of thumb, when you see someone on the Paris night bus carrying a book, you know they don’t belong there.

“I’m French! I’m from Martinique! The French took 52% of my country!”

“Why didn’t anyone of you object? Why am I the only one who defended the man?”

“because you’re black as well”, retorted an opinionated kid.

Ah! Finally someone engaging in his monologue! Black Guy with Glasses gets even more excited.

“May be, may be. But if it was a bus full of blacks and the police picked the white guy, I would’ve defended him too”.

He then went on a discourse on “humanistic values, equality” – and, taboo of taboos, French racism.

The discussion, unusual as it may be, draws a well-dressed couple. All the back section of the bus - 8 or 10 people are listening in. The same people watching the fight earlier.

‘He was drunk and was making trouble’, someone tried to justify – explain more than justify, really: it was less of a defense of the police than a kind attempt to diffuse Black Guy with Glasses’ anger. It partially succeeded.

“I am French but I live in Montreal now, and every time I come home – because here is home! – I am shocked at how Black people are treated. The police, the people. Did you see? They even sent a black policeman to arrest the black man.”

Frantz Fanon would be proud, I thought.

Until then listening, a twenty-ish guy accuses him of nursing anti-white sentiments.

“No, no, I’m not going on an anti-white rant here. Look at Felix Eboué. He worked for France but refused to see Blacks treated mistreated – wasn’t anti-white. And Dumas? Well he was white. But now – now, white people in this country have become too complacent, tacitly approving of society’s racism against blacks.”

As we ride deeper into the night and towards the suburbs, the bus empties. I chat a bit with Black Guy with Glasses.

I learn he’s a Zulu from Martinique. Mohamed S. (…), he introduces himself. A Muslim. “My grandfather studied at Azhar, even!”, he giggles.

“And my wife is a Yemenite Jew.”

As we approach the final station, we move towards the driver, who kept silent throughout the whole incident. And Black Guy with Glasses accuses the driver – blames him, rather – of wrongfully singling out Very Drunk Black Dude in his police complaint.

The bus driver responds very calmly, in the calm of a guy who’s heard it all before. “I reported a fight. The other two people happened to get off a minute before the police came.

And, buddy, don’t try to pin ‘racist’ on me.”

He points to a photo on his dashboard.

“My wife is Black”.

I repress a laugh. Nothing is what it seems tonight.

“Have we passed Saint Michel?”, asks Black Guy with Glasses. “I need to get off at Saint Michel…”

“Yes – 25 minutes ago”, I answer.

He laughs.

Why Durban II is a great platform for Israel

More precisely, for its supporters. It's an easy and cheap occasion to confirm support and pledge allegiance to Israel.

Let me put it this way. Those UN conferences are non-binding, their final resolutions accept exceptions (that is, a country can say they don't endorse clauses 2, 5, and 28a) and are generally a good way to put up a good show and produce a declaration with a good title. So really, agreeing or disagreeing with whatever takes place there comes at very little diplomatic cost - and major media coverage.

Durban II was stillborn. Months before, the main topic of discussion wasn't racism, wasn't the worst regimes in the world, wasn't apologies for past slavery or any such thing.

It was Israel, or more precisely, how to make sure that Israel doesn't in the least bit get criticised - regardless of whether they actually are guilty of racism or not. That was completely irrelevant. Occupied Palestinians as well as Israeli Arabs be damned.

Various countries withdrew from the conference ahead of time, and those who still wanted to bend over to Israel had plenty of room to do it at Geneva.

In the words of French Ambassador Jean-Baptiste Mattei, who walked out during Mahmoud Ahmedinejad's speech: "As soon as he started to address the question of the Jewish people and Israel, we had no reason to stay in the room".

Mind you, it wasn't what he said about Israel or its establishment, the words he used, the arguments he put forward: just the fact that he dared to mention the State of Israel.

There's a name for this: censorship.


Jewish Voices for Peace has an interesting initiative regarding this issue - MuzzleWatch.


JVP's Cecilie Shurasky writes that pro-Israel side events are proliferating, while opposing views were generally banned.
Check out her coverage from Geneva.


Of course, that Ahmedinejad went surely didn't help, and that jackass is as much guilty for the failure of the conference as various Israel-lobbies in OECD capitals. If he really cared about the racism that the Palestinians face on a daily basis, he should've stayed at home and let the conference follow its course, rather than beautifully assist those attempting to hijack it into a pro-Israel choir.

And blogged about the conference, or something.