How to Grade a Murder

There's an article in the Guardian about Marwa Sherbini, with the title "A Murder that Germany Ignored." That says it all. Apparently, now is the time to ask questions about why no one asked questions before the demonstrations in Egypt. Poetically, the article that starts off as a sympathetic look into why Marwa's case was under-reported ends up wryly acknowledging the real worry for the German public - risk-levels and tourism and conversations that end prudently with "perhaps its not such a good idea to go see the pyramids this year."

Is it wrong to laugh?

The German press reported on the case on the back page and fell asleep. A few days later it was awakened by thousands of Egyptians who protested vociferously against the "Islamophobia" of the Germans. Islamophobic? Us? Suddenly the German federal government, which had kept silent for nearly a week, found words of sorrow. And journalists started to write long articles about the astonishing reactions in Egypt.

I don't think Marwa's murder proves German "Islamophobia". But it proves a lack of interest in the reality of today's German society that is disturbing. And the more one thinks about it, the more disturbing it gets...

The press treated the case as if it was something banal. Just one of these tragic incidents one cannot really understand. It was not until the demonstrations in Cairo that the details were published. And then the German press very quickly had other worries. One day after the demonstrations a radio host called Karim al-Gawhary, the Cairo correspondent of a German newspaper, and asked him: "How dangerous is it now for German tourists in Egypt?"

The Egyptian blogosphere has been up in arms about the Marwa Sherbini case this last week, and rightly so. I think that it would actually be a challenge to react to this story with anything less than outrage and disbelief.

A pregrant woman stabbed 18 times infront of her 3 year old son, who then sees his father stabbed and then shot by security who mistake him for the attacker?

As a cinematic moment, it would seem contrived, implausible and melodramatic. But the tragedy is this tragedy is real, and responding to an incident like this with vitriolic "now we know who the real terrorists are" rhetoric is, as far as I'm concerned, petty. It's trivalizing and it's silly. Not to mention that it is as disconnected from reality as the blusterings of the "this has nothing to do with racism" "this was a mindless if tragic killing" camp.

This has everything to do with racism, and the fact that the husband was assumed to be the attacker only compounds that racist dimension. But perhaps what fueled the outrage in the Egyptian media most was the under-reporting of this story in Europe, especially when compared to the frenzied coverage of atrocities commited by Muslims. If Marwa had been the victim of an honour killing, her face would porbably be more recognisable. It would be plastered all over right-wing blogs. But positing the question "what if she was the victim of an honour killing?, like weighing coverage of Marwa's murder against coverage of Theo Van Gogh's murder, doesn't change the fact that this story doesn't seem to be as interesting.

I suppose "imagine if she was black" arguments might help someone see the case in a different light, but only if they are of the opinion that "Muslim" is no subset of "human".

Pomegranates and Myrrh

Pomegranates And Myrrh is Najwa Najjar’s debut feature film, portraying the realities of day-to-day life in besieged Ramallah and telling a story of life, love and resistance.

The film focuses on Ziad and Kamar, both of the Christian Arab minority. It begins with Ziad's journey to East Jerusalem to marry Kamar, and we see the beginning of what should have been their happy life together. But the couple's dreams for the future are dashed when Ziad is placed under administrative detention and attempts are made to confiscate their land. Trying to cope with her husband's imprisonement, Kamar turns to her passion for dance and meets choreographer Kais, who has returned to Palestine after 20 years in exile.

In Najwa Najjar's words:

"The idea for the film started with the beginning of the second Palestinian Intifada. Witnessing the daily violence, humiliation, grinding poverty, curfews, movement controls, assassination attempts and the tit for tat suicide bombings . . . "

Najjar also said: "I wanted a Palestinian story. A story different to what the world was used to seeing – simply a story of Palestinians trying to live ordinary lives under extraordinary circumstances, which has been (and continues to be) overlooked...."

I have lost count of the variations on "this is not about politics, this is about ordinary people", a line which is frequently deployed in films about Iraq, Palestine, Lebanon and other troubled regions, apparently in an attempt to confirm of the humanity of humans.

I absolutely love Najjar's work but I really hate that line. It is starting to sound like a supplication. An "excuse me while I venture into the realm of stories from your evening news" apology. A preamble begging the viewer's patience to dabble in depressing issues, as though to say "this film is about Palestine, but let me hasten to add, it is also very much about dancing and love triangles."

But I don't want to sound negative. I guess she explains it quite beautifully: "I needed to find a way to survive, to find hope in what seemed to be a hopeless situation . . . It is my hope that this story - told through the story of a woman, a love story, a story of dance and music, incorporating the events both internally and externally will evoke similar emotions and feelings in anyone confronting barriers blocking the achievement of his or her ambitions and dreams."

Egyptian Woman Killed in German Court Drama

Huffington Post - Thousands of Egyptian mourners marched behind the coffin of the "martyr of the head scarf" on Monday - a pregnant Muslim woman who was stabbed to death in a German courtroom as her young son watched.

Many in her homeland were outraged by the attack and saw the low key response in Germany as an example of racism and anti-Muslim sentiment.

Her husband was critically wounded in the attack Wednesday in Dresden when he tried to intervene and was stabbed by the attacker and accidentally shot by court security.

Nice. Let's begin in the passive voice, concentrate on the amusing appellation, and then suggest rampant conspiracy theorism and over-application of the word racism. Having covered outraged crowds, move on to the actual incident, which if you read that far, may potentially help clarify the racism charge.

Al-Sherbini, who was about four months pregnant and wore the Islamic head scarf, was involved in a court case against her neighbor for calling her a terrorist and was set to testify against him when he stabbed her 18 times inside the courtroom in front of her 3-year-old son.

Her husband, who was in Germany on a research fellowship, came to her aid and was also stabbed by the neighbor and shot in the leg by a security guard who initially mistook him for the attacker, German prosecutors said. He is now in critical condition in a German hospital, according to al-Sherbini's brother.

"The guards thought that as long as he wasn't blond, he must be the attacker so they shot him," al-Sherbini told an Egyptian television station.

Global Voices

Islam in Europe

Margaret Atwood - The Tent

"Why do you think this writing of yours, this graphomania in a flimsy cave, this scribbling back and forth and up and down over the walls of what is beginning to seem like a prison, is capable of protecting anyone at all? Yourself included. It's an illusion, the belief that your doodling is a kind of armor, a kind of charm, because no one knows better than you do how fragile your tent really is. Already there's a clomping of leather-covered feet, there's a scratching, there's a scrabbling, there's a sound of rasping breath. Wind comes in, your candle tips over and flares up and a loose tent-flap catches fire, and through the widening black-edged gap you can see the eyes of the howlers, red and shining in the light from your burning paper shelter, but you keep on writing anyway because what else can you do?"

I read a review that made Margaret Atwood's The Tent seem pretension-intensive, claustraphobic, moralistic, and generally demoralising. Back away, this way be prose poetry. Fictional essays. Fictional essays described as entertaining.

The words entertaining and essays, combined. As an incorrigibly pretentious person myself, I have a keen and highly developed sense for the pretenious, and that is pretension, defined. Feel priveleged, unworthy reader, holder of this small, incomplete book in your hands. This is Vintage Atwood. Punctuated with wonderful illustrations by the author. There's even a red ribbon bookmark.

So maybe, if Margaret Atwood hadn't half-written them, these fragments or fictional essays or prose poems or incomplete yet highly imaginative tales wouldn't have been published. But Margaret Atwood did write them and they are brilliant. Of course they are. It is vintage Atwood.

Although they are not all exactly entertaning. More like dauntingly breath-takingly inspiring. I re-read and re-re-read Life Stories, Voice, and The Animals Reject Their Names. I grinned through Plots for Exotics and Chicken Little Goes Too Far. Didn't much like King Log in Exile. Or Tree Baby. A little too unfinished to be artfully unfinished for my taste. "There is a charm and even a beauty in unfinished work," Peter Ackroyd wrote in Chatterton. "The face which is broken by the sculptor and then abandoned, the poem which is attempted and never ended..."

Artists used to have to learn to draw actual recognisable portraits and learn perspective and all those technical details before they could scrawl stick-figures or paint random streaks and call the result art. It's a good thing Atwood wrote stories about novels she would never write. And not solely for the immensely practical and satisfying reason that The Tent fits into any handbag and is readable and re-readable anywhere. Also because it is like being invited into the workshop of seemingly effortless talent. And also, it is the first book I've lingered over since The Lollipop Shoes.

I read it in a waiting-room. It made me insanely jealous. Talent always does.

To Read is to Travel - Rise of the Muslim Woman's Memoir

A re-write of my essay on travel narratives in Muslim women's literature, published at Altmuslimah:

Muslim women's memoirs often deal with what it means to be pulled between the polar forces of East and West, and whether it is possible to find balance in the midst of that cultural intersection. Complicating this is a delicate balance between challenging the Western representations of Muslim women and avoiding painting an overly romantic picture of the East. The post 9 /11 period has seen a proliferation of texts on the Muslim world which fall under the genre of the travel narrative. In recent years this has included a wave of personal accounts by journalists reporting the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, such as The Bookseller of Kabul, by Norwegian journalist Åsne Seierstad, or Rory Stewart’s The Places in Between, an account of his experiences in Afghanistan, which was followed by The Prince of the Marshes And Other Occupational Hazards of a Year in Iraq. These texts promise a reader that he or she will emerge with the same depth of knowledge that the traveler possesses, or in other words, that to read is to travel. They promise to pinpoint and define the essence of a place, which, to paraphrase Woolf, can simply mean to “seek out whatever it may be that is most unlike what we are used to, and declare this to be the very essence.” Clearly, travel and exposure do not always cleanse the traveler of prejudice. In Orientalist travel narratives, the search for what is “most unlike what we are used to” tended to fixate on the veil or the harem as misogynistic touchstones of a region and a religion that were at once alien, violent, and inferior. In more recent years, a globalized discourse of the Muslim woman has emerged, referred to as the New Orientalist narrative, which has propagated an image of victimhood. The image has then been employed to justify war as the exportation of freedom and democracy. Mohja Kahf has argued that the existing paradigm for stories about or by Muslim women relies on stereotypical images which have dominated Western representations of Muslim women since the 18th century. These clichés fall into two broad categories: victim and escapee. The story of the victim is characterized by stasis – the marginalized woman on the edges of society, the girl sequestered in her room, the concubine revamped. The escapee, on the other hand, is an agent capable of action, who breaks through a life of suppression to flee to the Western world, where she finds a secular haven. The increasing interest in the stories of Muslim women has been accompanied by an increase in literature by Muslim women writers, especially memoirs and autoethnographies. The rise of this genre has been partly attributed to its promise to take the reader on a journey into the author's private world. In many ways, this can be seen as an effort by Muslim women to reclaim their identities, but writing about one’s life can easily be manipulated to meet demands. An example of this can be seen in the memoirs of the Egyptian feminist Huda Sha'rawi, originally titled My Memoirs, and given the title Harem Years when translated. On the other hand, it would be simplistic to imply that writers are pawns to the demands of the market, particularly as some of these writers have themselves been accused of limiting themselves to a restricted repertoire to pander to expectations. Reviewers of Muslim women's literature often seem to read these works as sociological and anthropological texts that directly reflect the reality of the "Muslim Woman.” This assumption simplifies the nebulous position of many Muslim women, both in the diasporas and in countries caught between Western and Islamic values. These writers are trying to wear multiple hats as they attempt to address both the West and speak to their own cultures, all the while working to dismantle outdated Orientalist myths. In Ahdaf Soueif’s In the Eye of the Sun for example, the heroine is disturbed by the fact that she is perceived as “exotic,” seeing nothing exotic about the fact that she is Egyptian. There is, however, a delicate balance between challenging the Western representations of Muslim women and avoiding painting an overly romantic picture of the East. Examinations of contentious topics such as honor killings, oppression, and women’s rights are susceptible to “The Color Purple” syndrome, the debate raised by the publication of Alice Walker's novel, over whether and how a black woman writer should address the sexism of black men in the midst of a racist mainstream climate. For many Muslim women writers these problems are amplified by the fact that they choose to write in English, a choice which, in some cases, leaves them vulnerable to the criticism that they have “forgotten their roots,” a criticism Hind Wassef has made of Souief in an article with the uncompromising title "Unblushing Bourgeoisie”. A third dynamic can be seen in the counter-narrative offered by some Muslim women writers to the New Orientalism they detect in the work of their peers. This is something Fatemeh Keshavarz examines in her book Jasmine and Stars: Reading More Than Lolita in Tehran. As Keshavarz points out, the New Orientalist narrative often takes the form of eyewitness accounts which don't demand that their reader be informed about the context. Such books often “appeal to an ongoing post-9/11 sense of insecurity” by showing that “discontented people in the problem-ridden areas in the Middle East are by and large the monsters that you are afraid of.” Muslim women's memoirs often deal with what it means to be pulled between the polar forces of East and West, and whether it is possible to find balance in the midst of that cultural intersection. This tension can be seen even in the titles of the memoirs, as in Azadeh Moaveni’s Lipstick Jihad, subtitled A Memoir of Growing Up Iranian in America and American in Iran. Interestingly, in a New York Times review, Lipstick Jihad was described as “giv[ing] the reader a guided tour through the underground youth culture in Tehran." If reading a book is akin to taking a guided tour, in this case the writers themselves often travel between two worlds, their work creating not a perfect synthesis of cultures, but new structures which open up new ways of thinking, suggesting that East/West is often an oversimplification of modern mobility.

Deepak Chopra: Mini Skirts, Yes. Burqas, No?

Huffington Post - Doesn't it seem strange that women in France have the right to wear mini skirts but not burqas? Both costumes are about sexuality, or if that seems too judgmental, both are about the issue of modesty. In the Arab world this is a religious issue, and it's not as though the Christian world is totally free of that perspective -- as far as I know, a woman will not be permitted inside the Vatican without covering her head. A secular society has no business making decisions based on religion, and that means in either direction.

An Uncertain Hour

Refik Sener - Ayatollah Dostoevsky

A snippet of Refik Sener's short story Ayatollah Dostoevsky, translated from Swedish:

The seat opposite me was empty, but for a little book with a grey cover. To judge from the letters it was either Arabic or Persian, but the picture was familiar; it was Fyodor Dostoevsky's figure. It was clearly a translation of his work. But which? While I sat and thought of the possibilities a man came in. [...] The man gave the book a push and sits in the empty seat. Then he glanced at it. "That's no Swedish book," he said. "That's some Muslim nonsense. That such people are let into this country..."

"It's Dostoevsky," I said. "He's the one who wrote Crime and Punishment."

"He's one of their mullahs, is he?"

"Whose?" said I, somewhat surprised.

"The Muslims, of course. One of their mullahs who want to take over the world and rule it with Muslim laws. Crime and Punishment indeed!"

- Refik Sener, Ayatollah Dostoevsky

The Fabulous Picture Show - Ajami

Al Jazeera Journalists Released

AJE - "Afghan authorities have released two Al Jazeera producers who had been kept at the intelligence headquarters in Kabul for three days.

Qais Azimy, a senior producer at Al Jazeera English channel, and Hameedullah Shah, from the Arabic service, were freed around 11:30 GMT on Wednesday.

The producers were detained on Sunday, two days after Al Jazeera aired a report on the Taliban in Kunduz province that was produced by Azimy....

David Chater, who filed the report for Al Jazeera, said: "Intelligence forces ... accuse us of producing something that is unbalanced, with no government representative.

"That is clearly untrue. We interviewed at the same time the commander of the German forces in Kunduz, and he put his point across very clearly. That was a balanced report."

Khadija Project

The Khadija Project is a Swedish-Muslim initiative which, as it's name suggests, focuses on women's issues, working "to ensure that Muslim women's voices are heard", "to counteract the negative media coverage of the Muslim woman", and "to highlight her role as a contributing factor to Swedish society."

What I found interesting and encouraging about this project was that, unlike Elektra, there doesn't seem to be that patronzing vibe. No tear-jerker tactics and weepy rhetoric by Westernized second-generation immigrant Muslim women intent on rescuing poor oppressed Muslim women still languishing in the dark ages. And no Operation Remove Veil either.

Instead the first few sentences point out the gulf between, on the one hand, the view of many Muslim women who stated in a Gallup poll that their religion is a source of happiness and strength in their lives, and on the other hand, the broad abstraction of the myth that flourishes in the western media of the oppressed Muslim woman.

On the blog of one of the project-leaders, I found the following desciption:

"...det nystartade projektet Khadija som ska handla om jämställdhet riktat mot muslimska grupper. Där vi (jag är en av projektledarna) ska arbeta för att ta fram en metod med att förena svensk jämställdhetslagstiftning och syn på jämställdhet med en islamisk syn på detsamma. Islam är i sig jämställt och erbjuder en jämställd syn på mannen och kvinnan. Tyvärr efterlevs detta inte av olika skäl i den muslimska världen och hos de muslimska grupperna. Vi vill förändra detta och lyfta fram jämställdhetsbegreppet på nytt för att skapa en omvärdering av det. Idag är jämställdhet bland muslimer så ofta förknippat med en kulturimperalism där västerländska värderingar och uppfattningar hängt med när man velat liberalisera och kolonialisera den muslimska världen... Vi vill komplettera redan befintliga satsningar mot kvinnofrid och hedersvåld som sharafs hjältar och elektra, som saknat legitimitet hos de muslimska grupperna, genom att arbeta aktivt med jämställdhet och kvinnofridsfrågor."

"The Khadija project will be about equality, where we (I am one of the project leaders) will work to develop a method to combine Swedish gender equality legislation and vision of gender equality with an Islamic view of the same. Islam itself is about equality, and offers a vision of the equal worth of men and women. Unfortunately, for various reasons, this is not always seen in the Muslim world and among Muslim groups. We want to change this and highlight the concept in order to create a re-evaluation of it. Today among Muslims, feminism is often associated with cultural imperalism, with the Western values and ideas which came along when the West wanted to liberalize and colonialize the Muslim world.... We want to complement existing efforts against oppression and honour killing, such as Sharaf heroes and Elektra, which lacked legitimacy in the Muslim communities, by working actively with equality and women's rights issues."

The Sirens of Baghdad

Today our struggle is internal. Muslims are on the side of the person who can project their voice, the Muslim voice, as far as possible. They don't care whether he's a terrorist or an artist, an impostor or a righteous man, an obscure genius or an elder statesman. They need a myth, an idol. Someone capable of representing them, of expressing them in their complexity, of defending them in some way. Whether with the pen or with bombs, it makes little difference to them. And so it's up to us to choose our weapons, Jalal. Us: you and me.

- Yasmina Khadra, Sirens of Baghdad

Stereotypes and Silhouettes

You Forgot My Face

Empty Silhouette

Skewed Guantanamo Figures

Veolia Quits Jerusalem Rail Project

Alarabiya - "A European corporation scrapped a rail way project that was to be built on occupied Palestinian territory to link Israeli settlers after a global boycott campaign succeeded in mounting enough pressure on the company to cost it considerable losses.

Veolia Transport abandoned a multi-million dollar project that was to build an urban train system linking Jewish settlers in east Jerusalem with those in the West Bank."

Veolia lost its contract for Stockholms tunnelbana earlier this year. Although the fact that Veolia lost may have had more to do with management issues, rather than directly linked to the illegal settlements railway project, the fact that Veolia was undertaking a project that constitutes a major violation of international law was quite often mentioned as part of the wider campaign against the company. It was one black mark among many.

The Electronic Intifada - Veolia's partnership in an Israeli project for a tramline, to be constructed on occupied Palestinian territory in East Jerusalem has drawn the attention of advocacy groups around the world who have responded to the call by Palestinian civil society for campaigns of boycott, divestment and sanctions against Israel.

Victory - Veolia Derailed! In the first smashing and convincing victory of the global BDS movement in the field of corporate responsibility and ethical compliance, Veolia is reportedly abandoning the Jerusalem Light Rail project, an illegal project that aims at connecting Israeli colonies built on occupied Palestinian territory to the city of Jerusalem.

Veolia hoppar av spårvägsprojektet på ockuperad mark!

Shoeing Netanyahu

Much Ado About Shoes?

An excerpt from a Ha'aretz article:

A photo released by the White House, which shows Obama talking on the phone with Netanyahu on Monday, speaks volumes: The president is seen with his legs up on the table, his face stern and his fist clenched, as though he were dictating to Netanyahu: "Listen up and write 'Palestinian state' a hundred times. That's right, Palestine, with a P." As an enthusiast of Muslim culture, Obama surely knows there is no greater insult in the Middle East than pointing the soles of one's shoes at another person. Indeed, photos of other presidential phone calls depict Obama leaning on his desk, with his feet on the floor.

Doha Debates - Arranged Marriages Should End for Muslim Women

This House believes that Muslim women should be free to marry anyone they choose:

"The male-dominated Arab world was given a sharp warning by Qatar’s Doha Debates that Muslim women expect greater freedom in choosing a husband.

An audience of more than 350 people who attended the last in the current season of debates voted 62 per cent to 38 in favour of a motion that Muslim women should be free to marry anyone they choose."

The case is often made that arranged marriage should not be confused with forced marriage. It's an important point to make, but in real life, the distinction is less clear. Realistically, pragmatically, all that seperates arranged marriage from forced marriage is the pressure exerted.

That's why just banning forced marriages is not enough. There are not enough clerics talking about these issues, not enough programs in place to re-educate people and raise awareness, not enough support structures for those looking for help. The unequivocally unislamic custom of forced marriage is not something to get defensive about, it's something that needs to be eradicated.

When a Muslim woman can say "no" for herself, an arranged marriage is no more oppressive than matchmaking. When a Muslim woman can not say "no" for herself, its not an arranged marriage. It stops being "arranging" and becomes "forcing."

The premise that arranged marriages curtail a Muslim woman's freedom would only hold true if she was locked in a tower, presented with a row of suitors and asked to choose one. That is, if arranged marriage was the only option she had.

Choose someone we choose for you, or don't choose at all - that is not a choice.

In my own extended family, it's pretty evenly split between spouses who met through friends and family and those who met in university, for example. A 28-year old woman I know is still undecided between the son of her mother's friend (a match arranged by her parents) and a man she met attending an IT course, both of whom presented themselves to her family to ask for her hand. I would say she has the choice to marry anyone she chooses. I don't see arranged marriage and choice as being incompatible.

I think choice is the requisite component that makes an arranged marriage "arranged" not "forced."

But when the Doha Debates motion is "Muslim women should be free to marry anyone they choose," and the title incisively concludes "arranged marriages should end for Muslim women" - I can only translate it as another gently chiding exhortation to stop being so backward.

Obama Reinforces Presumed Religious Identities

Marieme Helie Lucas asks, 'Where are women and secularists of Muslim countries in Obama's speech in Cairo?'

"It is beyond doubt that many people around the world, of various political opinions and creeds, will feel relieved after the speech the President of the USA delivered in Cairo today. It is apparently a new voice, a voice of peace, quite far from Bush's clash of civilisations. But is it so?

I presume that political commentators will point out the fact that Obama equates violence on the part of occupied Palestinians to violence on the part of Israeli colonizers, or that he has not abandoned the idea that the United States should tell the world how to behave and fight for their rights, or that the Israeli-Palestinian conflict is reduced to a religious conflict, or that he still justifies the war in Afghanistan, etc...

All those are important issues that need to be challenged. However, what affects me most, as an Algerian secularist, is thatObama has not done away with the idea of homogeneous civilisations that was at the heart of the theory of the 'clash of civilisations'. Moreover, his very American idea of civilisation is that it can be equated to religion. He persistently opposes 'Islam and the West' (as two entities/civilisations), 'America and Islam'(a country vs. a religion); he claims that 'America is not at war with Islam'. In short 'the West' is composed of countries, while ' Islam' is not....

First of all, Obama's discourse is addressed to 'Islam', as if an idea, a concept, a belief, could hear him; as if those were not necessarily mediated by the people who hold these views, ideas, concepts or beliefs. As Soheib Bencheikh, former Great Mufti of Marseilles and now Director of the Institute of High Islamic Studies in Marseilles, used to say: “I have never seen a Qur'an walking in the street...”

Can we imagine for one minute that Obama would address himself to '’Christianity' or to 'Buddhism'? No, he would talk to Christians or Buddhists – to real people, keeping in mind all their differences.

Obama is essentialising Islam, ignoring the large differences that exist among Muslim believers themselves, in terms of religious schools of thought and interpretations, cultural differences and political opinions."

I'm not exactly a fan of WLUML (Women Living Under Muslim Laws), I wouldn't call myself a secularist, and I don't agree with all the writers opinions, but she really hits the nail on the head in these paragraphs. The West is not a stable monolithic entity always exclusive of Islam, and Islam is a religion, not a homogenous world.

But, although it is important to point out the limitations of such terminology, is it practical to condemn it? These terms have after all become a useful shorthand “providing descriptive access to an unhappy reality: the asymmetric relationship between a self-defined West and a Western-defined Other (Islam, non-West).” (Asma Barlas "Believing Women" in Islam: Unreading Patriarchal Interpretations of the Qur'an)

Complexion

you have no story but
the wall of your complexion
the religion you wear
the tongue your mother tongue
wages war with, wages war against
these are the trappings of your character

honesty is the best policy
but authenticity is a flavour
and too many influences
spoil the broth

you are advised
to hone your hybridity
into a success story, above all
be complimentary
to your host country
and its munificent
multiculturalism
diversity
makes us all rich

On Obama's Speech

The world is falling over itself admiring the rhetorical genius of Obama's speech-writers, dazzled by the brilliance of Obama's oratory skills. Even Irshad Manji, whom nothing pleaseth, jangled her earrings and gave Obama the cautiously approving "time will tell" treatment - after she had rolled her eyes at his "pandering to his audience" with a sentence on colonialism.

I do have to wonder if she also rolled her eyes at Obama's paragraph on the Holocaust. Only because I hope she didn't strain her eyeballs.

I actually thought the contextualizing and the delicate raking up of history and bad blood - including calling Iraq a war of choice, and acknowledging the role the US played in the overthrow of a democratically-elected Iranian government - was what gave the speech that Obama hallmark of depth, seriousness and resolute intellectualism.

Although Obama could probably make Bush doctrine sound profound and I am clearly among those dazzled by the brilliance of Obama's oratory skills. On the linguistic, semantic, phonetic level, the speech was perfection.

Or it would have been, if not for the little voice in my head, a contrary little voice that never shuts up, and which becomes particularly voluble listening to long speeches.

...when Jerusalem is a secure and lasting home for Jews and Christians and Muslims, and a place for all of the children of Abraham to mingle peacefully together as in the story of Isra, when Moses, Jesus, and Mohammed (peace be upon them) joined in prayer.

Wonderfully stirring words I could not enjoy. Because when Obama said Jerusalem, the little voice in my head chimed in: capital of Israel, see under AIPAC, Obama's speech at.

Another powerful and compelling paragraph was Obama's denunciation of all forms of violence, specifically Palestinian:

It's a story with a simple truth: that violence is a dead end. It is a sign of neither courage nor power to shoot rockets at sleeping children, or to blow up old women on a bus. That is not how moral authority is claimed; that is how it is surrendered.

The little voice took on a face and made one. No one seethes more over the utter cowardly stupidity of such forms of civilian-targetting resistance than myself. The word resistance, though, begs the question. Pointing to home-made rockets and overlooking tanks, F-16s, Apaches, white phosphorus and DIME bombs...doesn't impress the little voice in my head.

Obama came into power mere days after Israel's onslaught on Gaza ended the lives of 1300 Palestinians, including over 410 children. Some of those children were even buried alive while sleeping.

But perhaps that is justifuable on the grounds that only dead Palestinians understand that violence is a dead end.

(dA recently deleted my juxtaposition of words from Obama's inaugration and a Gazan child's reality. I honestly don't know why, but the little voice in my head thought this would be an appropriate place to plonk it. It was that peeved.)

Obama's Speech to the Muslim World

Transcript of Obama's Speech at Cairo University

I am honored to be in the timeless city of Cairo, and to be hosted by two remarkable institutions. For over a thousand years, Al-Azhar has stood as a beacon of Islamic learning, and for over a century, Cairo University has been a source of Egypt's advancement. Together, you represent the harmony between tradition and progress. I am grateful for your hospitality, and the hospitality of the people of Egypt. I am also proud to carry with me the goodwill of the American people, and a greeting of peace from Muslim communities in my country: assalaamu alaykum.

We meet at a time of tension between the United States and Muslims around the world - tension rooted in historical forces that go beyond any current policy debate. The relationship between Islam and the West includes centuries of co-existence and cooperation, but also conflict and religious wars. More recently, tension has been fed by colonialism that denied rights and opportunities to many Muslims, and a Cold War in which Muslim-majority countries were too often treated as proxies without regard to their own aspirations. Moreover, the sweeping change brought by modernity and globalization led many Muslims to view the West as hostile to the traditions of Islam.

Violent extremists have exploited these tensions in a small but potent minority of Muslims. The attacks of September 11th, 2001 and the continued efforts of these extremists to engage in violence against civilians has led some in my country to view Islam as inevitably hostile not only to America and Western countries, but also to human rights. This has bred more fear and mistrust.

So long as our relationship is defined by our differences, we will empower those who sow hatred rather than peace, and who promote conflict rather than the cooperation that can help all of our people achieve justice and prosperity. This cycle of suspicion and discord must end.

I have come here to seek a new beginning between the United States and Muslims around the world; one based upon mutual interest and mutual respect; and one based upon the truth that America and Islam are not exclusive, and need not be in competition. Instead, they overlap, and share common principles - principles of justice and progress; tolerance and the dignity of all human beings.

I do so recognizing that change cannot happen overnight. No single speech can eradicate years of mistrust, nor can I answer in the time that I have all the complex questions that brought us to this point. But I am convinced that in order to move forward, we must say openly the things we hold in our hearts, and that too often are said only behind closed doors. There must be a sustained effort to listen to each other; to learn from each other; to respect one another; and to seek common ground. As the Holy Koran tells us, "Be conscious of God and speak always the truth." That is what I will try to do - to speak the truth as best I can, humbled by the task before us, and firm in my belief that the interests we share as human beings are far more powerful than the forces that drive us apart.

Part of this conviction is rooted in my own experience. I am a Christian, but my father came from a Kenyan family that includes generations of Muslims. As a boy, I spent several years in Indonesia and heard the call of the azaan at the break of dawn and the fall of dusk. As a young man, I worked in Chicago communities where many found dignity and peace in their Muslim faith.

As a student of history, I also know civilization's debt to Islam. It was Islam - at places like Al-Azhar University - that carried the light of learning through so many centuries, paving the way for Europe's Renaissance and Enlightenment. It was innovation in Muslim communities that developed the order of algebra; our magnetic compass and tools of navigation; our mastery of pens and printing; our understanding of how disease spreads and how it can be healed. Islamic culture has given us majestic arches and soaring spires; timeless poetry and cherished music; elegant calligraphy and places of peaceful contemplation. And throughout history, Islam has demonstrated through words and deeds the possibilities of religious tolerance and racial equality.

I know, too, that Islam has always been a part of America's story. The first nation to recognize my country was Morocco. In signing the Treaty of Tripoli in 1796, our second President John Adams wrote, "The United States has in itself no character of enmity against the laws, religion or tranquility of Muslims." And since our founding, American Muslims have enriched the United States. They have fought in our wars, served in government, stood for civil rights, started businesses, taught at our Universities, excelled in our sports arenas, won Nobel Prizes, built our tallest building, and lit the Olympic Torch. And when the first Muslim-American was recently elected to Congress, he took the oath to defend our Constitution using the same Holy Koran that one of our Founding Fathers - Thomas Jefferson - kept in his personal library.

So I have known Islam on three continents before coming to the region where it was first revealed. That experience guides my conviction that partnership between America and Islam must be based on what Islam is, not what it isn't. And I consider it part of my responsibility as President of the United States to fight against negative stereotypes of Islam wherever they appear.

But that same principle must apply to Muslim perceptions of America. Just as Muslims do not fit a crude stereotype, America is not the crude stereotype of a self-interested empire. The United States has been one of the greatest sources of progress that the world has ever known. We were born out of revolution against an empire. We were founded upon the ideal that all are created equal, and we have shed blood and struggled for centuries to give meaning to those words - within our borders, and around the world. We are shaped by every culture, drawn from every end of the Earth, and dedicated to a simple concept: E pluribus unum: "Out of many, one."

Much has been made of the fact that an African-American with the name Barack Hussein Obama could be elected President. But my personal story is not so unique. The dream of opportunity for all people has not come true for everyone in America, but its promise exists for all who come to our shores - that includes nearly seven million American Muslims in our country today who enjoy incomes and education that are higher than average.

Moreover, freedom in America is indivisible from the freedom to practice one's religion. That is why there is a mosque in every state of our union, and over 1,200 mosques within our borders. That is why the U.S. government has gone to court to protect the right of women and girls to wear the hijab, and to punish those who would deny it.

So let there be no doubt: Islam is a part of America. And I believe that America holds within her the truth that regardless of race, religion, or station in life, all of us share common aspirations - to live in peace and security; to get an education and to work with dignity; to love our families, our communities, and our God. These things we share. This is the hope of all humanity.

Of course, recognizing our common humanity is only the beginning of our task. Words alone cannot meet the needs of our people. These needs will be met only if we act boldly in the years ahead; and if we understand that the challenges we face are shared, and our failure to meet them will hurt us all.

For we have learned from recent experience that when a financial system weakens in one country, prosperity is hurt everywhere. When a new flu infects one human being, all are at risk. When one nation pursues a nuclear weapon, the risk of nuclear attack rises for all nations. When violent extremists operate in one stretch of mountains, people are endangered across an ocean. And when innocents in Bosnia and Darfur are slaughtered, that is a stain on our collective conscience. That is what it means to share this world in the 21st century. That is the responsibility we have to one another as human beings.

This is a difficult responsibility to embrace. For human history has often been a record of nations and tribes subjugating one another to serve their own interests. Yet in this new age, such attitudes are self-defeating. Given our interdependence, any world order that elevates one nation or group of people over another will inevitably fail. So whatever we think of the past, we must not be prisoners of it. Our problems must be dealt with through partnership; progress must be shared.

That does not mean we should ignore sources of tension. Indeed, it suggests the opposite: we must face these tensions squarely. And so in that spirit, let me speak as clearly and plainly as I can about some specific issues that I believe we must finally confront together.

The first issue that we have to confront is violent extremism in all of its forms.

In Ankara, I made clear that America is not - and never will be - at war with Islam. We will, however, relentlessly confront violent extremists who pose a grave threat to our security. Because we reject the same thing that people of all faiths reject: the killing of innocent men, women, and children. And it is my first duty as President to protect the American people.

The situation in Afghanistan demonstrates America's goals, and our need to work together. Over seven years ago, the United States pursued al Qaeda and the Taliban with broad international support. We did not go by choice, we went because of necessity. I am aware that some question or justify the events of 9/11. But let us be clear: al Qaeda killed nearly 3,000 people on that day. The victims were innocent men, women and children from America and many other nations who had done nothing to harm anybody. And yet Al Qaeda chose to ruthlessly murder these people, claimed credit for the attack, and even now states their determination to kill on a massive scale. They have affiliates in many countries and are trying to expand their reach. These are not opinions to be debated; these are facts to be dealt with.

Make no mistake: we do not want to keep our troops in Afghanistan. We seek no military bases there. It is agonizing for America to lose our young men and women. It is costly and politically difficult to continue this conflict. We would gladly bring every single one of our troops home if we could be confident that there were not violent extremists in Afghanistan and Pakistan determined to kill as many Americans as they possibly can. But that is not yet the case.

That's why we're partnering with a coalition of forty-six countries. And despite the costs involved, America's commitment will not weaken. Indeed, none of us should tolerate these extremists. They have killed in many countries. They have killed people of different faiths - more than any other, they have killed Muslims. Their actions are irreconcilable with the rights of human beings, the progress of nations, and with Islam. The Holy Koran teaches that whoever kills an innocent, it is as if he has killed all mankind; and whoever saves a person, it is as if he has saved all mankind. The enduring faith of over a billion people is so much bigger than the narrow hatred of a few. Islam is not part of the problem in combating violent extremism - it is an important part of promoting peace.

We also know that military power alone is not going to solve the problems in Afghanistan and Pakistan. That is why we plan to invest $1.5 billion each year over the next five years to partner with Pakistanis to build schools and hospitals, roads and businesses, and hundreds of millions to help those who have been displaced. And that is why we are providing more than $2.8 billion to help Afghans develop their economy and deliver services that people depend upon.

Let me also address the issue of Iraq. Unlike Afghanistan, Iraq was a war of choice that provoked strong differences in my country and around the world. Although I believe that the Iraqi people are ultimately better off without the tyranny of Saddam Hussein, I also believe that events in Iraq have reminded America of the need to use diplomacy and build international consensus to resolve our problems whenever possible. Indeed, we can recall the words of Thomas Jefferson, who said: "I hope that our wisdom will grow with our power, and teach us that the less we use our power the greater it will be."

Today, America has a dual responsibility: to help Iraq forge a better future - and to leave Iraq to Iraqis. I have made it clear to the Iraqi people that we pursue no bases, and no claim on their territory or resources. Iraq's sovereignty is its own. That is why I ordered the removal of our combat brigades by next August. That is why we will honor our agreement with Iraq's democratically-elected government to remove combat troops from Iraqi cities by July, and to remove all our troops from Iraq by 2012. We will help Iraq train its Security Forces and develop its economy. But we will support a secure and united Iraq as a partner, and never as a patron.

And finally, just as America can never tolerate violence by extremists, we must never alter our principles. 9/11 was an enormous trauma to our country. The fear and anger that it provoked was understandable, but in some cases, it led us to act contrary to our ideals. We are taking concrete actions to change course. I have unequivocally prohibited the use of torture by the United States, and I have ordered the prison at Guantanamo Bay closed by early next year.

So America will defend itself respectful of the sovereignty of nations and the rule of law. And we will do so in partnership with Muslim communities which are also threatened. The sooner the extremists are isolated and unwelcome in Muslim communities, the sooner we will all be safer.

The second major source of tension that we need to discuss is the situation between Israelis, Palestinians and the Arab world.

America's strong bonds with Israel are well known. This bond is unbreakable. It is based upon cultural and historical ties, and the recognition that the aspiration for a Jewish homeland is rooted in a tragic history that cannot be denied.

Around the world, the Jewish people were persecuted for centuries, and anti-Semitism in Europe culminated in an unprecedented Holocaust. Tomorrow, I will visit Buchenwald, which was part of a network of camps where Jews were enslaved, tortured, shot and gassed to death by the Third Reich. Six million Jews were killed - more than the entire Jewish population of Israel today. Denying that fact is baseless, ignorant, and hateful. Threatening Israel with destruction - or repeating vile stereotypes about Jews - is deeply wrong, and only serves to evoke in the minds of Israelis this most painful of memories while preventing the peace that the people of this region deserve.

On the other hand, it is also undeniable that the Palestinian people - Muslims and Christians - have suffered in pursuit of a homeland. For more than sixty years they have endured the pain of dislocation. Many wait in refugee camps in the West Bank, Gaza, and neighboring lands for a life of peace and security that they have never been able to lead. They endure the daily humiliations - large and small - that come with occupation. So let there be no doubt: the situation for the Palestinian people is intolerable. America will not turn our backs on the legitimate Palestinian aspiration for dignity, opportunity, and a state of their own.

For decades, there has been a stalemate: two peoples with legitimate aspirations, each with a painful history that makes compromise elusive. It is easy to point fingers - for Palestinians to point to the displacement brought by Israel's founding, and for Israelis to point to the constant hostility and attacks throughout its history from within its borders as well as beyond. But if we see this conflict only from one side or the other, then we will be blind to the truth: the only resolution is for the aspirations of both sides to be met through two states, where Israelis and Palestinians each live in peace and security.

That is in Israel's interest, Palestine's interest, America's interest, and the world's interest. That is why I intend to personally pursue this outcome with all the patience that the task requires. The obligations that the parties have agreed to under the Road Map are clear. For peace to come, it is time for them - and all of us - to live up to our responsibilities.

Palestinians must abandon violence. Resistance through violence and killing is wrong and does not succeed. For centuries, black people in America suffered the lash of the whip as slaves and the humiliation of segregation. But it was not violence that won full and equal rights. It was a peaceful and determined insistence upon the ideals at the center of America's founding. This same story can be told by people from South Africa to South Asia; from Eastern Europe to Indonesia. It's a story with a simple truth: that violence is a dead end. It is a sign of neither courage nor power to shoot rockets at sleeping children, or to blow up old women on a bus. That is not how moral authority is claimed; that is how it is surrendered.

Now is the time for Palestinians to focus on what they can build. The Palestinian Authority must develop its capacity to govern, with institutions that serve the needs of its people. Hamas does have support among some Palestinians, but they also have responsibilities. To play a role in fulfilling Palestinian aspirations, and to unify the Palestinian people, Hamas must put an end to violence, recognize past agreements, and recognize Israel's right to exist.

At the same time, Israelis must acknowledge that just as Israel's right to exist cannot be denied, neither can Palestine's. The United States does not accept the legitimacy of continued Israeli settlements. This construction violates previous agreements and undermines efforts to achieve peace. It is time for these settlements to stop.

Israel must also live up to its obligations to ensure that Palestinians can live, and work, and develop their society. And just as it devastates Palestinian families, the continuing humanitarian crisis in Gaza does not serve Israel's security; neither does the continuing lack of opportunity in the West Bank. Progress in the daily lives of the Palestinian people must be part of a road to peace, and Israel must take concrete steps to enable such progress.

Finally, the Arab States must recognize that the Arab Peace Initiative was an important beginning, but not the end of their responsibilities. The Arab-Israeli conflict should no longer be used to distract the people of Arab nations from other problems. Instead, it must be a cause for action to help the Palestinian people develop the institutions that will sustain their state; to recognize Israel's legitimacy; and to choose progress over a self-defeating focus on the past.

America will align our policies with those who pursue peace, and say in public what we say in private to Israelis and Palestinians and Arabs. We cannot impose peace. But privately, many Muslims recognize that Israel will not go away. Likewise, many Israelis recognize the need for a Palestinian state. It is time for us to act on what everyone knows to be true.

Too many tears have flowed. Too much blood has been shed. All of us have a responsibility to work for the day when the mothers of Israelis and Palestinians can see their children grow up without fear; when the Holy Land of three great faiths is the place of peace that God intended it to be; when Jerusalem is a secure and lasting home for Jews and Christians and Muslims, and a place for all of the children of Abraham to mingle peacefully together as in the story of Isra, when Moses, Jesus, and Mohammed (peace be upon them) joined in prayer.

The third source of tension is our shared interest in the rights and responsibilities of nations on nuclear weapons.

This issue has been a source of tension between the United States and the Islamic Republic of Iran. For many years, Iran has defined itself in part by its opposition to my country, and there is indeed a tumultuous history between us. In the middle of the Cold War, the United States played a role in the overthrow of a democratically-elected Iranian government. Since the Islamic Revolution, Iran has played a role in acts of hostage-taking and violence against U.S. troops and civilians. This history is well known. Rather than remain trapped in the past, I have made it clear to Iran's leaders and people that my country is prepared to move forward. The question, now, is not what Iran is against, but rather what future it wants to build.

It will be hard to overcome decades of mistrust, but we will proceed with courage, rectitude and resolve. There will be many issues to discuss between our two countries, and we are willing to move forward without preconditions on the basis of mutual respect. But it is clear to all concerned that when it comes to nuclear weapons, we have reached a decisive point. This is not simply about America's interests. It is about preventing a nuclear arms race in the Middle East that could lead this region and the world down a hugely dangerous path.

I understand those who protest that some countries have weapons that others do not. No single nation should pick and choose which nations hold nuclear weapons. That is why I strongly reaffirmed America's commitment to seek a world in which no nations hold nuclear weapons. And any nation - including Iran - should have the right to access peaceful nuclear power if it complies with its responsibilities under the nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty. That commitment is at the core of the Treaty, and it must be kept for all who fully abide by it. And I am hopeful that all countries in the region can share in this goal.

The fourth issue that I will address is democracy.

I know there has been controversy about the promotion of democracy in recent years, and much of this controversy is connected to the war in Iraq. So let me be clear: no system of government can or should be imposed upon one nation by any other.

That does not lessen my commitment, however, to governments that reflect the will of the people. Each nation gives life to this principle in its own way, grounded in the traditions of its own people. America does not presume to know what is best for everyone, just as we would not presume to pick the outcome of a peaceful election. But I do have an unyielding belief that all people yearn for certain things: the ability to speak your mind and have a say in how you are governed; confidence in the rule of law and the equal administration of justice; government that is transparent and doesn't steal from the people; the freedom to live as you choose. Those are not just American ideas, they are human rights, and that is why we will support them everywhere.

There is no straight line to realize this promise. But this much is clear: governments that protect these rights are ultimately more stable, successful and secure. Suppressing ideas never succeeds in making them go away. America respects the right of all peaceful and law-abiding voices to be heard around the world, even if we disagree with them. And we will welcome all elected, peaceful governments - provided they govern with respect for all their people.

This last point is important because there are some who advocate for democracy only when they are out of power; once in power, they are ruthless in suppressing the rights of others. No matter where it takes hold, government of the people and by the people sets a single standard for all who hold power: you must maintain your power through consent, not coercion; you must respect the rights of minorities, and participate with a spirit of tolerance and compromise; you must place the interests of your people and the legitimate workings of the political process above your party. Without these ingredients, elections alone do not make true democracy.

The fifth issue that we must address together is religious freedom.

Islam has a proud tradition of tolerance. We see it in the history of Andalusia and Cordoba during the Inquisition. I saw it firsthand as a child in Indonesia, where devout Christians worshiped freely in an overwhelmingly Muslim country. That is the spirit we need today. People in every country should be free to choose and live their faith based upon the persuasion of the mind, heart, and soul. This tolerance is essential for religion to thrive, but it is being challenged in many different ways.

Among some Muslims, there is a disturbing tendency to measure one's own faith by the rejection of another's. The richness of religious diversity must be upheld - whether it is for Maronites in Lebanon or the Copts in Egypt. And fault lines must be closed among Muslims as well, as the divisions between Sunni and Shia have led to tragic violence, particularly in Iraq.

Freedom of religion is central to the ability of peoples to live together. We must always examine the ways in which we protect it. For instance, in the United States, rules on charitable giving have made it harder for Muslims to fulfill their religious obligation. That is why I am committed to working with American Muslims to ensure that they can fulfill zakat.

Likewise, it is important for Western countries to avoid impeding Muslim citizens from practicing religion as they see fit - for instance, by dictating what clothes a Muslim woman should wear. We cannot disguise hostility towards any religion behind the pretence of liberalism.

Indeed, faith should bring us together. That is why we are forging service projects in America that bring together Christians, Muslims, and Jews. That is why we welcome efforts like Saudi Arabian King Abdullah's Interfaith dialogue and Turkey's leadership in the Alliance of Civilizations. Around the world, we can turn dialogue into Interfaith service, so bridges between peoples lead to action - whether it is combating malaria in Africa, or providing relief after a natural disaster.

The sixth issue that I want to address is women's rights.

I know there is debate about this issue. I reject the view of some in the West that a woman who chooses to cover her hair is somehow less equal, but I do believe that a woman who is denied an education is denied equality. And it is no coincidence that countries where women are well-educated are far more likely to be prosperous.

Now let me be clear: issues of women's equality are by no means simply an issue for Islam. In Turkey, Pakistan, Bangladesh and Indonesia, we have seen Muslim-majority countries elect a woman to lead. Meanwhile, the struggle for women's equality continues in many aspects of American life, and in countries around the world.

Our daughters can contribute just as much to society as our sons, and our common prosperity will be advanced by allowing all humanity - men and women - to reach their full potential. I do not believe that women must make the same choices as men in order to be equal, and I respect those women who choose to live their lives in traditional roles. But it should be their choice. That is why the United States will partner with any Muslim-majority country to support expanded literacy for girls, and to help young women pursue employment through micro-financing that helps people live their dreams.

Finally, I want to discuss economic development and opportunity.

I know that for many, the face of globalization is contradictory. The Internet and television can bring knowledge and information, but also offensive sexuality and mindless violence. Trade can bring new wealth and opportunities, but also huge disruptions and changing communities. In all nations - including my own - this change can bring fear. Fear that because of modernity we will lose of control over our economic choices, our politics, and most importantly our identities - those things we most cherish about our communities, our families, our traditions, and our faith.

But I also know that human progress cannot be denied. There need not be contradiction between development and tradition. Countries like Japan and South Korea grew their economies while maintaining distinct cultures. The same is true for the astonishing progress within Muslim-majority countries from Kuala Lumpur to Dubai. In ancient times and in our times, Muslim communities have been at the forefront of innovation and education.

This is important because no development strategy can be based only upon what comes out of the ground, nor can it be sustained while young people are out of work. Many Gulf States have enjoyed great wealth as a consequence of oil, and some are beginning to focus it on broader development. But all of us must recognize that education and innovation will be the currency of the 21st century, and in too many Muslim communities there remains underinvestment in these areas. I am emphasizing such investments within my country. And while America in the past has focused on oil and gas in this part of the world, we now seek a broader engagement.

On education, we will expand exchange programs, and increase scholarships, like the one that brought my father to America, while encouraging more Americans to study in Muslim communities. And we will match promising Muslim students with internships in America; invest in on-line learning for teachers and children around the world; and create a new online network, so a teenager in Kansas can communicate instantly with a teenager in Cairo.

On economic development, we will create a new corps of business volunteers to partner with counterparts in Muslim-majority countries. And I will host a Summit on Entrepreneurship this year to identify how we can deepen ties between business leaders, foundations and social entrepreneurs in the United States and Muslim communities around the world.

On science and technology, we will launch a new fund to support technological development in Muslim-majority countries, and to help transfer ideas to the marketplace so they can create jobs. We will open centers of scientific excellence in Africa, the Middle East and Southeast Asia, and appoint new Science Envoys to collaborate on programs that develop new sources of energy, create green jobs, digitize records, clean water, and grow new crops. And today I am announcing a new global effort with the Organization of the Islamic Conference to eradicate polio. And we will also expand partnerships with Muslim communities to promote child and maternal health.

All these things must be done in partnership. Americans are ready to join with citizens and governments; community organizations, religious leaders, and businesses in Muslim communities around the world to help our people pursue a better life.

The issues that I have described will not be easy to address. But we have a responsibility to join together on behalf of the world we seek - a world where extremists no longer threaten our people, and American troops have come home; a world where Israelis and Palestinians are each secure in a state of their own, and nuclear energy is used for peaceful purposes; a world where governments serve their citizens, and the rights of all God's children are respected. Those are mutual interests. That is the world we seek. But we can only achieve it together.

I know there are many - Muslim and non-Muslim - who question whether we can forge this new beginning. Some are eager to stoke the flames of division, and to stand in the way of progress. Some suggest that it isn't worth the effort - that we are fated to disagree, and civilizations are doomed to clash. Many more are simply skeptical that real change can occur. There is so much fear, so much mistrust. But if we choose to be bound by the past, we will never move forward. And I want to particularly say this to young people of every faith, in every country - you, more than anyone, have the ability to remake this world.

All of us share this world for but a brief moment in time. The question is whether we spend that time focused on what pushes us apart, or whether we commit ourselves to an effort - a sustained effort - to find common ground, to focus on the future we seek for our children, and to respect the dignity of all human beings.

It is easier to start wars than to end them. It is easier to blame others than to look inward; to see what is different about someone than to find the things we share. But we should choose the right path, not just the easy path. There is also one rule that lies at the heart of every religion - that we do unto others as we would have them do unto us. This truth transcends nations and peoples - a belief that isn't new; that isn't black or white or brown; that isn't Christian, or Muslim or Jew. It's a belief that pulsed in the cradle of civilization, and that still beats in the heart of billions. It's a faith in other people, and it's what brought me here today.

We have the power to make the world we seek, but only if we have the courage to make a new beginning, keeping in mind what has been written.

The Holy Koran tells us, "O mankind! We have created you male and a female; and we have made you into nations and tribes so that you may know one another."

The Talmud tells us: "The whole of the Torah is for the purpose of promoting peace."

The Holy Bible tells us, "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God."

The people of the world can live together in peace. We know that is God's vision. Now, that must be our work here on Earth. Thank you. And may God's peace be upon you.

Hands Clasped in Cynicism

Miss Hoggs speaks to Mrs Gordon:

...tänk nu på saken en smula! Vad är det för slags människor, som bor här? De är antigen mohammedaner eller judar eller kristna. Antag nu, att ni, unga kvinna, vore en muhammedan! Då skulle denna stad vara en helig plats för er. Ni skulle tro, att er profet hade uppstigit till himmelen just från den gamla tempelplatsen här borta, och ni skulle känna er tvungen att hata båda judar och krista därför att ni vet, att de ingenting högre önskar än att få köra bort er från denna ort. Och om ni vore jude, mrs Gordon, då måste ni ju hata muhammedanerna, därför att de äger era fäders land, och likaså kunde ni inte fördra de kristna, därför att ni vet, att de aldrig skulle tillåta ert folk att komma till herravåldet i denna stad. Eller också, mrs Gordon, är ni en kristen, men då är Jerusalem er heliga stad främför alla, och då måste ni hata muhammedanerna, som äger den, och judarna, som vill äga den och säga att denna stad och detta land är deras och att ingen annan har någon rätt till dem. Men är ni kristen, måste ni vidare hata alla kristna, som inte har alldeles samma bekännelse som ni, därför att ni vet, att så snart en av dem kommer till makten här, så ska ni utan miskund bli fördriven.

Ja, så förhåller det sig med den här saken, och nu hoppas jag, att ni är övertygad, unga Amerika, att det inte lönar sig att predika enighet i Jerusalem.

...think a little! What kind of people live here? They are either Mohammedans or Jews or Christians. Imagine now that you, young woman, were a Mohammedan. Then this would be a holy place for you. You would believe that your prophet had ascended to heaven precisely from that old temple, and you would feel obliged to hate both Jews and Christians because you know that their dearest wish is to drive you away from this region. And if you were a Jew, Mrs Gordon, then you would have to hate the Mohammedans, because they own your father's land, and also the Christians, because you know that they would never allow your people to take absolute power in this city. Or else, Mrs Gordon, you are Christian, and then Jerusalem is your holy city above all others, and then you must hate the Mohammedans, who own it, and the Jews, who wish to own it and say that this city and this land is theirs and no one else has rights to them. But if you are Christian, you must also hate all Christians who do not hold the exact same beliefs as you, because you know that as soon as one of them comes to power here, you will doubtless be expelled.

Yes, this is how it is, and now I hope you are convinced, young America, that it does no good to preach unity in Jerusalem.

- Selma Lagerlöf, Jerusalem

End of a Beautiful Enmity

Jeeran was fickle, and I was lazy. When using free host pages as jotters there's much to be said for the low-maintenance basics. So that was the beginning of a beautiful enmity. Now geocities demise means I will have to think about the arduous process of moving, can't say I'm seething with anger.

On the Blacklist

In the occupation corner
of my passport
there is a small small sentence saying
writer and poet.

Once upon a time
I thought it was a magical phrase,
that it would open doors
and make guards bow to me
intoxicate officers and soldiers.

Then I discovered
it was my greatest shame,
the greatest accusation,
the sword that swings
every time I travel.



My translation of Nizar Qabbani's poem.

The Time That Remains

I've been reading reviews of "The Time That Remains," which Robert Ebert describes as a "a deadpan Palestinian comedy".In another review the film is described thusly: "the never-ending Story between Arabs and Jews gets another wryly humorous workout." It is the third of Elia Suleiman's films dealing with the thorny subject of Israeli-Arabs and the place of Palestinians in the state of Israel, following Divine Intervention (2002) and Chronicle of a Disappearance (1996).

"The Time That Remains" is a semi biographic film, in four historic episodes, about a family--my family--spanning from 1948, until recent times. The film is inspired by my father’s diaries of his personal accounts, starting from when he was a resistant fighter in 1948, and by my mother’s letters to family members who were forced to leave the country since then. Combined with my intimate memories of them and with them, the film attempts to portray the daily life of those Palestinians who remained in their land and were labeled "Israeli-Arabs," living as a minority in their own homeland. [synopsis from the director]

In the film's framing device, Suleiman takes a taxi from the airport as he arrives in Israel, and is caught in a sudden thunderstorm. The film itself is composed of vignettes which jump back and forth in time and are separated by fadeouts: "a succession of small events, running jokes and ironic observations in the director's Tati-esque style". This succession of events document 1948 Nazareth, Suleiman's father's involvement with the ragtag resistance movement, and his transformation into the old man in the cafe who drinks endless cups of coffee.

But paralleling these sequences is young Elia's own political coming-of-age story, "from young conformist to political activist, and ultimately to mute observer", as he attends a school where students sing patriotic Hebrew songs, is reprimanded for describing the US as colonialist, and as a teenager rips an Israeli flag. Later the film returns to the present, as Suleiman returns to his home town to visit his widowed mother.

"The character played by Suleiman, satire linked with autobiography, a solemn, silent figure with dark shadows under his eyes, is poker-faced and never speaks. He simply stands and regards all that happens for 60 years."

Suleiman explaination of the title of the film seems more like an exlanation of this witness figure: "The [title] of this film is a political term that describes the Palestinians who remain on their own land, who are insiders and absentees, while they remain on their own land," Suleiman continued, "It's a very political term which I appropriated...from my personal context being present and absent, someone who is an outsider and an insider, someone who does not live in one place but always departs."

The film is obviously a fusion of the political and the personal, but what does jar me reading all these reviews is that other approving comment often tacked on, reassuring the reader that the film is more personal than political, or that it is not at all overt in its political commitment, and would not be out of place in European arthouses.

In this case, surely the political is personal, and vice versa?

scene from the film

Just Belligerent Today Okay?

A while ago I came across this photograph someone had taken of a Muslim woman and her child. The woman is dressed in black. Her hair is covered with a headscarf. She has a pensive expression on her face.

The photograph had the sort of title that reminds me of a certain kind of poetry, and the photographer admitted to not being brave enough to approach the woman in some form other than through the zoom lens of the camera.

But it inspired some interesting responses, which included words such as "heart-breaking" and "thought-provoking". Commentators applauded the photographer's social commentary, and pointed out the ironic contrast between the two figures and the happy colours of the children's play area. Both photographer and commentators also spent quite a bit of time pondering what possible reasons the woman could have for looking so forgetful of joy. The potential reasons went from a nameless fear to racism to the Lebanon war, and then one person poignantly added that not knowing the true circumstances actually made it even more emotive and unsettling and evocative.

It exasperated me. I have been told that's just peevish, since these people are clearly wonderful, caring, compassionate intelligent souls, and it is cantankerous beyond belief to find fault with Good Samaritan instincts.

But, when someone says they want to "reach out" to "people like this" and then proceed to castigate themselves for not doing so, my eyes roll of their own accord.

One person compared the feeling the photograph evoked to wanting to "reach out" to disabled people, and then finally deciding not to "reach out" to them due to the troubling thought that it may make them feel they are "different."

Then there was one person who interjected that she may just have been feeling tired. Yes! What if she was just tired? What if she was remembering the death of her pet goldfish? What if she didn't want to smile because she has very crooked teeth? What if she was just feeling blue? Surely there is quite a wide spectrum of normal human emotion available that could cause apparent joy forgetfulness?

Seriously, though, perhaps Muslim women should walk around policing their facial expressions in case they seem like they are projecting an image of subjected to prejudice/oppressed/fearful/marginalised womanhood. Maybe they should beam, constantly, and festoon everything they own in little badges with those silly little messages, like Proud 2b Muslim, I Love My Hijab and I Hug Random Hijabies.

There's the other side of this. I Love My Hijab badges have their place I'm sure, but that place is as far away from me as possible. I find such bouncy positive energy exhausting.

It's not that I don't see the point. I can see why a happy-looking Muslim woman might help to project a positive image of Muslim women, which might in turn help fight the truly very bizarre assortment of images that come up when you google the phrase Muslim women.

But in the interests of everyday facial expression shifts and the spice of life, I'd argue that belligerence is sometimes quite as human as beaming.

Narrative as Travel in Arab Women's Writing

If You've Ever Been Anywhere You'll Know the Scene*

The conception of narrative has always been closely tied to the experience of travel, and the journey - quests, odysseys, and adventures - have always served as powerful masterplots. This chiasm of "travel as writing and writing as travel," is one which Michel Butor outlines in his essay "Le voyage et l'ecriture" ("Travel and Writing") where he argues that "to travel is to write (first of all because to travel is to read), and to write is to travel." Working from this conception of narrative as travel allows for a re-investigation of the quest for personal identity and the motif of the journey in the literature of Arab women.

Orientalism and Travel Literature

In 1925, Virginia Woolf wrote that “excursions into the literature of a foreign country much resemble our travels abroad” and that “in our desire to get at the heart of the country we seek out whatever it may be that is most unlike what we are used to, and declare this to be the very essence.” This desire to “get at the heart” of a country features significantly in the travel literature examined in Edward Said’s Orientalism which argues that Western knowledge of the East was created in a discursive environment.

Orientalist narratives of travel such as Gerard de Nerval’s Journey to the East or Eugene Fromentin’s Between Sea and Sahara, An Orientalist Adventure are landmarks in the story of the West’s fascination with "The Orient." Much has been written about the interconnection between such travel writings, the colonial relationship, and the representations of native women as metonyms for the exotic lands they describe: as women and country become interchangeable, to conquer one is to conquer the other, and to know is to conquer, a dynamic of the colonial resolve which is concisely described in Fanon’s phrase “we must first of all conquer the women; we must go and find them behind the veil”.

This colonialist interest in finding the women behind the veil cannot be separated from its interest in and hostility to Islam. Casting women as victims to be rescued from male violence, the colonial fixation on the veil, the harem, and polygamy turned women into symbols of a region and a religion that were at once exotic, violent, and inferior.

Explorations Beyond the Veil

This “finding” of the Other has found renewed expression in recent years, as "Fundamentalist Islam" became the number one enemy for a post-cold war West, and especially in the post 9 /11 period, which has seen a proliferation of texts promising to “unveil” the hidden world of Muslim women. Many of these texts fall under the genre of the travel narrative, and these include the personal accounts by journalists reporting the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.

One example is The Bookseller of Kabul, by Norwegian journalist Åsne Seierstad. Another is Rory Stewart’s The Places in Between (2004), an account of his experiences in Afghanistan and a New York Times bestseller, which was followed by The Prince of the Marshes And Other Occupational Hazards of a Year in Iraq . Tellingly, in a Time article, Stewart is dubbed Stewart of Afghanistan.

Even when these texts are not literal travel narratives, they can be said to follow a similar dynamic in providing the reader with the impression that the book will strip away a veil of mystery to “get at the heart” of an alien world, that the reader will emerge with the knowledge of a traveler, or in other words, that to read is to travel. The effort to “reveal” this hidden world often, and perhaps inevitably, involves the positing of a dichotomy between non-western and western constructs, a dichotomy implicit in the vocabulary of East/West rhetoric itself. However while use of this terminology is to some extent unavoidable, the validity of vocabulary which divides the world into homogonous entities must be questioned to avoid the danger of falling into the superficiality of essentialist characterization. The limitations of this terminology are apparent in the way “Western culture” for example suggests that the West is a stable monolithic entity. Similarly, terms such as Arab and Islamic, which tend to overlap, often seem to be perceived as undistinguishable in the West’s cultural imaginary.

In this sense, to refer to Arab/Muslim women as one group is to some extent simplistic and problematic, conflating as it does a wide variety of ethnic, cultural, religious, national, and professional backgrounds, as well as overlooking differences of class. In this study, the focus would be on Anglophone Arab women, paying due regard to these differences. However, the study would also look at similarities in the strategies these writers employ in “writing back” to the West, examining these strategies against the context of representations of Arab women through history, and comparing modern Western representations with the self-representations of Muslim women.

Stasis and Movement, Victim and Escapee

In recent years, a globalized discourse of the Muslim woman has emerged, which has propagated the neatly packaged image of the veiled oppressed victim and served to provide a justification of wars as the exportation of freedom and democracy. This naturalized category of “victim,” and its wholesale attribution to Muslim and Arab women often relies on a portmanteau of stereotypical images which have dominated Western representations of Muslim women since the 18th century.

Mohja Kahf has argued that the existing “spectrum” for stories about or by Muslim women consists of two Eurocentrically slanted slots: Victim and Escapee. The story of the Victim relies on images which are characterized by their stasis. Whether portrayed as a veiled, silenced victim or as an odalisque, the stereotypical Arab woman is immobile, with the Oriental harem and the Islamic veil synecdochically standing in for her. As the veiled submissive wife, she is a mute shadow at the edges of a portrait, as an odalisque, literally ‘the woman of the room’ she is confined to an enclosed space, as represented in Orientalist paintings such as Matisse’s Odalisque with Left Knee Bent, where as Darraj notes “the woman portrayed sits in one of the rooms of the harem, lounging idly, forming part of the colorful background but not performing any action.” In this storyline, the sequestered victim is immobile; it is the reader/spectator who travels into her room.

In the plot of the Escapee, this is reversed. The heroine flees the restrictions of her country of origin, her religion, or her family in an archetypal travel narrative. However, she is often portrayed as a passive object of violence, and an innate culture, religion and patriarchy are invoked to explain the violence she experiences, historical and political circumstances are obscured and Islam is derogated as a pre-modern and barbaric religion.

Quest for Personal Identity

Given the long history of representation by others, what strategies and techniques do Arab Anglophone women writers utilize? What do they foreground in their presentation of postcolonial experience? How do they negotiate encoding Arab meanings within an alien discourse? This project aims to undertake a study of the trope of the journey in the writing of Anglo-Arab women writers, exploring the efforts of Arab women to reclaim their identities, to write themselves as something other than victim and escapee, to escape the restrictions of a limited repertoire and to correct a historically maligned portrait. The aim is to examine the different ways Arab women represent themselves, and how these representational artifacts are presented to the West.

Life Writing and Cultural Commodification

In recent years, the increasing interest in the stories of Arab women has been accompanied by a proliferation of both fiction and nonfiction by Arab women writers, especially memoirs and autoethnographies. Much has been written about the rise of the Muslim woman’s memoir, and more widely about the autobiographical elements in the writing of Muslim women in general. The increasing popularity, dynamism and ubiquity of writing in this genre by Muslim women has in part been attributed to the characteristics of autobiographical work, which essentially invite the reader into the writer’s private world, promising to reveal what is often unseen and unheard. This quality, it could be argued, can be traced in both fiction and nonfiction, present both in Saadawi's early novel, “Memoirs of a Woman Doctor” and the later nonfiction, “Memoirs from a Women's Prison.”

However, life writing can be easily commodified, packaged, and co-opted into propaganda, as it is manipulated to meet the expectations and assumptions of Western readers. An example of this packaging can be seen in the way the memoirs of the Egyptian feminist Huda Sha'rawi, originally titled My Memoirs, were given the title "Harem Years" when translated into English. However, it would be simplistic to imply that Arab women writers are simply pawns to the demands of a Western market, particularly as some Arab women writers have themselves been accused of limiting their novels to the victim and/or excapee plot, and playing into Western prejudices.

The rapid commodification of life-writing by Arab women is a topic which has recently been the focus of much critical study, examined in books such as Soft Weapons: Autobiography in Transit, by Gillian Whitlock and Nawar Al-Hassan Golley’s Reading Arab Women's Autobiographies, which examines writing for women as, in Golley’s words, “a process and a quest for dialogue, social change, and the possibility of saying "we" as well as "I."

Time, Space, and Adventures of Everyday Life

This area of research intersects with the scope of this project, in so far as it examines the metaphor of "the path of life" as a central feature of narrative-as-travel in the work of Anglo-Arab women, from narratives such as Fadia Faqir’s The Cry of The Dovewhich is motivated by an actual journey, to the metaphors of travel and quest motifs in narratives such as Ahdaf Souief’s In the Eye of the Sun, which urge the reader to “walk a mile” in the narrator’s shoes, following the story of an Egyptian woman from secondary school through graduate school in England.

Many of the plots of such novels partake in the genre Bakhtin refers to as the adventure novel of everyday life, which has been described as a temporal sequence of metamorphosis linked with identity as part of an idea of development presenting moments of crisis that “unfold[s] not so much in a straight line as spasmodically, a line with knots in it” constituting “a distinctive type of temporal sequence” In this plot, transformation is central, and there are typically two images of the individual – a 'before' and 'after' that are both “separated and reunited through crisis and rebirth”. This analysis suggests that metamorphosis serves as the basis for a method of portraying the whole of an individual’s life in its important moments of crisis, showing how an individual becomes other than what she was.

This synopsis argues that Anglophone Arab women’s writing can be usefully read through theories of travel narratives as texts which are dependent on the projection and experience of a world from a particular perspective, a person moving through space in a certain time, with space becoming meaningful as, in Bakthin’s words, “time becomes endowed with the power to bring change.” The fact that these narratives are characterized by their concreteness, by the level of detail through which they convey the narrator’s experience of the world they move through to the reader underscores the way narrative invites the reader not only to read but to travel outside their world and into another.

Hyphenated Identities

Reviewers of Arab women's books often seem to read their novels as sociological and anthropological texts that "reflect" the reality of the Middle East. Rifaat's Distant View of A Minaret for example, is described on the blurb as being able to "admit the reader into a hidden private world." Carrying the suggestion that the Arab world is a homogenous entity which can be understood through reading a single text, this involves an abnegation of the ambivalent, borderland position of many Muslim women both in the diaspora and in countries caught between Western and Islamic values.

The dual position of many Arab women writers is complicated by the fact that as Golley argues, many of them write both “to the West and…to Arab patriarchy.” Novelists such as Soueif and Aboulela work to dismantle notions of Arab female subservience and dispel the myth of the sequestered Arab woman. For example in Soueif’s first novel, In the Eye of the Sun, the heroine, Asya, is disturbed by the fact that she is perceived as “exotic,” seeing nothing exotic about the fact that she is Egyptian. Similarly in Leila Sebbar’s Shérazade trilogy, the main character befriends a Frenchman with a passion for Orientalist art. However, Shérazade soon recognizes the fantasy he projects onto her and refuses to be framed in a stereotype, declaring: “I’m not an odalisque”. In essence, both Asya and Shérazade refuse to be defined.

At the same time however, as Arab women writers challenge the representations of Muslim women in the West and de-familiarize Western culture, they avoid the romanticization of the East. In their examination of controversial and contentious topics such as honour killings, oppression, women’s rights, and the veil, the work of Arab women writers can be said to be susceptible to “The Color Purple” syndrome, the debate raised by the publication of the eponymous Alice Walker novel over whether and how a black woman writer should address the sexism of black men in the midst of a racist mainstream climate. This aspect of Anglophone women’s writing is amplified by the language they choose to write in, a choice which in some cases leaves them vulnerable to the criticism that they have “forgotten their roots”, a criticism Hind Wassef makes of Souief in her article "Unblushing Bourgeoisie”.

Many of the characters in the novels of Anglo-Arab writers are pulled between the polar forces of East and West, and can only achieve balance when they have carved out a place for themselves in the midst of that cultural intersection. Anglo-Arab writers themselves inevitably move between two worlds, infusing their Anglophone novels with the essence of their native languages and cultures, setting up a dialogics that extends from language to broader issues of cultural contact and creating a transcultural literature which subverts cultural and linguistic identities through the intervention of other models grafted onto older identities, creating not a "synthesis of cultures," but new structures which open up new ways of thinking. This can be seen, for example, in Azadeh Moaveni’s Lipstick Jihad, subtitled A Memoir of Growing Up Iranian in America and American in Iran, and which in a New York Times review was described as “giv[ing] the reader a guided tour through the underground youth culture in Tehran."

In a sense, this can be related to Bhabha’s description of hybridity as “the strategic reversal of the process of domination through disavowal” which “unsettles the mimetic or narcissistic demands of colonial power but re-implicates its identifications in strategies of subversion that turn the gaze of the discriminated back upon the eye of the power”. The novels of a writer like Ahdaf Soueif for example, can resist submission to neo-colonial hegemony by subverting the hierarchy of the colonizer/colonized, turning her Egyptian postcolonial eye on England’s colonial past and postcolonial present.

Aspiring to an authentically dialogic, hybrid consciousness, and dealing with themes of exile, transnationalism, doubleness, communal identity and cultural dichotomy, the literature of Anglo-Arab women suggests that East/West is often an oversimplification of modern mobility, and that identities themselves are never fixed or isolated, but rather cultural constructs, or to use Miriam Cooke’s term, “speaking positions.” According to Cooke, “[i]f identity is the recognition of sameness with some difference from others, then we have many identities. To retain a sense of wholeness, we usually assert only one of many possible identities, the one that gives authority at the moment of its assertion. This speaking position is not an identity, but rather an ascribed or chosen identification.”

The work of writers such as Soueif and Aboulela not only gives women a voice, but influences literary landscapes, as they describe Arab women who seek to find their own voices, tell the story of their own journeys and take control of their own narrative. As Fadwa Malti-Douglas' observes, “woman's voice is more than a physiological faculty. It is the narrative instrument that permits her to be a literary medium, to vie with the male in the process of textual creation. To control the narrative process, however, is no small task. Shahrazad demonstrates to her literary cousins and descendants that an intimate relationship must be created between writing and the body.” Writing themselves and their characters into the global community, Arab women writers often take the journey as a first step, duplicating, questioning, rewriting or subverting the plots of the Victim/Escapee.

*Working title taken from Zeina B Ghandour’s "Omega: Definitions," in Hikayat: Short Stories by Lebanese Women, Roseanne Saad Khalaf (Editor) Telegram 2006.

(still incomplete) references

Suzanne Tamim

Egyptian buisnessman Hisham Talaat Moustafa has been sentenced to death for the murder of Suzanne Tamim, who was found dead in a hotel room in Dubai in 2008. The buisnessman's relatives fainted upon hearing the news, and the police had beat up the journalists to stop them taking pictures of the elite looking unelite.

Coverage of this story has, from the start, revolved around the fact that Moustafa is a member of "the elite", but also, the "lurid fascination" with the "troubled private life" of the victim.

It was interesting to see how western media introduced the subject, the sort of background given to this tale of a murdered Arab pop princess. This article in Spiegel Online for example, ventured into economy, cultural anthropology, dialectology and the Arab Mind in its bid to educate the reader.

Lebanese singers are one of the main products this small Mediterranean country exports to the Arab world. Lebanese women are considered unreserved and many find Levantine accents attractive. Singers from Lebanon are the equivalent of French acts in the eyes of Germans: sexy, playful, and a little raunchy.

Tamim's disturbingly plastic looks are also frequently mentioned, although all you really need is a picture. As the article puts it, "Tamim did what was necessary for success in the high rolling Arabic music business." Like Nancy Ajram, Haifa, Elissa et al. There's a rule somewhere. All female singers of cheesy songs must have bloated lips, implanted cheekbones and eyebrows climbing towards their overly-dyed hairline.

Nadine Labaki of Caramel, who has directed Nancy Ajram’s videos, reportedly once commented on the new phenomenon in the Lebanon pop music scene, pointing out the strange contradiction of having plastic surgery to look as though you've had plastic surgery. As though looking plastic was the sign of success. Suzanne Tamim was a perfect example of that. Though a relative unknown, she probably felt she had reached the peak of stardom when she got a Michael Jackson nose.

In more ways than one, her story has all the elements of, as the Spiegel article puts it, a fairy-tale gone dreadfully wrong, and all fairy tales, even the Grimm no happy ending ones, have morals. So what's the moral to this fairytale gone wrong?

According to the writer, Arab parents and teachers will utilize it to ruin their daughters lives, stifle natural talent, and lecture young women on the fate lurking in the wings for insubordinate little girls who want to flout convention and cavort in the spotlight.

And many see the story's moral lesson as difficult to ignore. Indeed, the singer's life history has already passed into the annals of modern Arab myth. A young woman gets a big break, flouts convention, puts herself in the spotlight and dies as a result.

For parents and educators from the Persian Gulf to the Nile Delta, this is a potentially useful tale. They can use it to teach young women that insubordinate girls don't end up marrying the prince. Instead they meet a much darker fate.

There's an assassin for every insubordinate Arab pop princess out there.

Egyptian President's 12-Year-Old Grandson Dies

Egyptian President Hosni Mubarak's grandson died abruptly, the president's office said Tuesday, declining to give a cause of the 12-year-old boy's sudden death.

Mohammed Mubarak passed away Monday after a "health crisis lasting two days," the presidency said in a brief statement. State media reported he was flown to Paris for emergency treatment, where he was joined by his grandmother, Egyptian first lady Suzanne Mubarak. His body was flown back to Egypt Tuesday for burial.

Aisha and The Allure of Taboos

Qantara has an interview with Sherry Jones, talking about her novel about the Prophet Muhammad's wife Aisha, The Jewel of Medina. The book and the various attempts to publish it generated enough controversy to generate a supportive audience; the sort of readers who retaliated by buying the book on principle, then posting defiant messages on forums in support of western freedom and the right to write anything whatsoever. Then they read the book. Thats when some readers seemed to realise they were holding a Mills & Boon style story, very thinly veiled in the allure of taboo.

Portraying Aisha is useful on several levels. The image used on the cover of Geneviève Chauvel's book sums up a lot of them. The reader sees events unfolding through the eyes of Aisha, at the same time as Aisha is constructed according to the author's idea of her. Telling the story from the point of view of a woman also of course allows the author to talk of purdah, child brides, polygamy, harems and all the rest of it. All that takes up so much space that there is little left to consider Aisha as a historical figure, scholar, and politician.

Sherry Jones did refer to purdah in her book, which is an interesting and adventurous thing to do, seeing as purdah is an Indian sub-continental concept, hardly indigenous to Arabia. But that was not the greatest authorial license she took.

Sherry Jones defends the book against the charges it has faced in the interview, and succesfully makes her novel sound like exactly what it is: a turgid romance aspiring to a lofty combination of fashionable feminist transgression (my novel presents a bold Aisha) and brave Islam marketing (I hope to promote a greater understanding of Islam). As far as I can see, the controversy was a sign of success, tangible evidence the author had hit her mark and got her publicity. She seems to think so too:

What's exciting is that this incident has sparked a worldwide discussion over censorship and free speech," says Sherry Jones when asked about the difficulties of getting her novel published.

Aïcha, la bien-aimée du prophète by Geneviève Chauvel, didn't receive half as much critical attention when it was first published, slipping by without controversy or much violent wave-making at all. And Chauvel was left rather lamely lauding the open-mindedness of France as opposed to the brave new world.

Kamran Pasha has also written a novel with Aisha as the main character, entitled Mother of Believers. On Amazon, it is lumped together with the Jewel of Medina, and Jezebel: The Untold Story of the Bible's Harlot Queen by Lesley Hazleton. Kamran Pasha served as a co-producer and writer for Sleeper Cell and was also apparently involved with a 50 Cent video game in 2008. Uhm. He too sometimes seems to be courting controversy and styling himself as a taboo-breaker in his article, but he also talks about all those aspects of Aisha's life that are usually ignored in historical fiction.

Comparing the three Aishas in these three different books would be most interesting.