A call by the Hayward gallery has been circulating regarding a second installment of the Jeremy Deller piece, It Is What It Is. The call, an excerpt of which follows, was sent out to look for participants in the gallery show opening this month (February 22) in London:

“I work as Assistant Curator at the Hayward Gallery and am currently carrying out research for our forthcoming exhibition on Turner prize-winner Jeremy Deller which takes place at the Hayward Gallery from 22 February - 13 May 2012.  The exhibition will feature a number of works, including an installation of ‘It Is What It Is’ - a work which explores the recent history and current circumstances of Iraq through the presentation of a destroyed car, maps, a banner, a film work, as well as a participatory element…The work ‘It Is What It Is: Conversations About Iraq’ has been successfully presented at the New Museum, New York; the Museum of Contemporary Art, Chicago and the Hammer Museum, Los Angeles in 2009. A list of the guest experts who have participated in the Hammer Museum exhibition is included in the attached document for your information. . .”

Because this exhibition is being resurrected in yet another major contemporary art space, it begs consideration of its first iteration. In Feb of 2009, the New Museum and Creative Time in New York inaugurated this high profile exhibition, which subsequently went on to the other museums mentioned above. The nearly year long initiative was part of the “Three M Project”, a collaborative museum program to commission, organize and co-present new works of art. The ambitious program commissioned a project by Deller:

In an effort to encourage the public to discuss the present circumstances in Iraq, a revolving cast of participants including veterans, journalists, scholars, and Iraqi nationals who have expertise in a particular aspect of the region and/or first-hand experience of Iraq have been invited to take up residence in the New Museum’s gallery space with the express purpose of encouraging discussion with visitors to the Museum.1

This project then toured the US on a three-week road trip in an RV.  Conversation stops along the way took place at homes, town halls, and public meeting places (not unlike the trips US politicians make stumping before elections).

The “objects” in the exhibit consisted of a bombed out car, juxtaposed maps of Iraq and the US, and a banner bearing the title of the program in English and Arabic. These materials, to be used as prompts, serve as a starting point for the project and signal some of the problems that are both initially apparent and those that emerge.

These objects were meant to “ground and stimulate discussion.” However, the use of a bombed out car and Arabic script as a starting point for a conversation in America about the complexity and tragedy of the war in Iraq begins the conversation with stereotyped images found on the evening news for the last ten years. Isn’t the grounding of the conversation with the same tired props used in nearly every US media report on Iraq exactly the wrong place to begin an open and exploratory dialogue?

The curatorial literature states that the bombed out car was a remnant of a car destroyed in the bombing of Mutanabbi Street on March 5, 2007. This bombing, which claimed 26 lives, was a searing blow to Iraqis because of its history as a main Baghdadi thoroughfare famous for centuries as a booksellers market and hub of intellectual activity. In Deller’s project, the bombed out car is the only signifier needed, apparently, to make a link to Iraqi culture. Speaking to Art in America, Deller explains that the bombed out car was important because, “Its very difficult to even hold or see something that’s actually come from Iraq. Its very rare that you get that opportunity so here we have this huge car –it’s a massive, ugly, mangled wreck from Iraq. Its almost like a piece of evidence has been dropped down in the museum.”2

But why is it so “rare” to see or hold something from Iraq? What could Deller possibly mean by this? Iraqis have produced a vast canon of artistic work, literature, and cultural objects, from ancient works that are very visible in museums in Britain and the US, to modern and contemporary works in a variety of disciplines. Deller’s comment speaks to either an ignorance of this work existing (which hardly seems possible), or a problematic insistence on Iraq as a site that can only be made visible as a map of mangled objects. This is especially disturbing when considering the very concrete losses that took place under the occupying forces, who famously allowed Iraq’s museums, cultural institutions, and other critical sites to be looted and irreversibly damaged at the start (and during the course of), the war; deeming Iraqi cultural production at best insignificant.

By relying on the use of a blown up car, Deller chooses to replicate narrow British and American media portrayals of the conflict and this bombing in particular. Deller explicitly acknowledges this in another interview: 

The car will be very familiar though, because whenever you watch the news and there’s been a bombing, you don’t see the bodies, you see a car. It becomes a replacement for the body; they would never show a dead body on the news in Britain or America. So in that respect, our car is a body as well, effectively.3

If, as Deller says, his interest is in focusing on the impact of the war by “those who have first hand experience,” why did he decide to utilize the same dehumanizing strategies of using objects to replace people? Not only did Deller decide to only use the bombed out car as a reference to the Mutanabbi event, he and the New Museum decided not to include any of the artistic and creative responses of those directly affected by the bombing, which had sparked a near-immediate outpouring of literature, artistic work, and films by booksellers, artists, and citizens commemorating the disaster. 

The objects in the exhibition seem to be of secondary importance to the conversations that serve as the main participatory component of the program. These conversations, notes from the curators explain, are not to provide a simple “for” or “against” view of the war. It is to be “open-ended,” “messy,” and that, the (Museum) literature assures participants, is ok. It is even “good, as black-and-white readings of this situation have been of little use up to now."4 This all sounds very encouraging, except for the fact that the four people steering this conversation and taking it on the road were: Jeremy Deller, a British artist who has spent no time in Iraq; Essam Pasha, an Iraqi artist and former employee of the US Army who may or may not feel comfortable speaking freely in the US; Sergeant Jonathan Harvey, an American veteran of the Iraq War; and Nato Thompson, a Creative Time administrator and curator who has never spent any time in Iraq. Four men, two of whom worked for the US Army, have been chosen and sanctioned by some of the most prominent cultural institutions in the world (and certainly within the US), to “encourage conversation about our world” through “a project that strives to present a broad, informational, nonpartisan perspective of Iraq.”

The title and content of the exhibition conflates a conversation about Iraq with a highly guided perspective of the Occupation dressed up as a neutral museum space offering. Deller and his commissioning partners felt it appropriate to define “Iraq” through US military involvement, rather than as an independent site of experiences, histories, and narratives particular to its real and imagined borders. The war in Iraq “is as it is” to whom, exactly? This construct (of the project’s title) leads one to think that perhaps this is not an open forum about Iraq –or its long and varied history and people. In fact, the selection of “experts”, not to mention Deller and Thompson, and the choice of objects in the exhibition ensure that this “conversation” falls squarely on a US military grid.

The pervasiveness of the military’s imprint on the exhibit, and how information was presented, is most pronounced in the employment of Jonathan Harvey as one half of the “Expert” team who took this exhibit on the road.

Jonathan Harvey, who currently serves in the U.S. Army Reserve, is described in the New Museum’s biographical literature as having been a Platoon Sergeant in the US Army since 1997, and as a “specialist in the psychological effects of warfare…assisting in projects that include progressive teaching and, leadership and management roles in the academic and military environments.”5

While Harvey may have assisted in teaching projects in various environments, this description paints Harvey as a passive actor in an active war. In fact, Harvey was a PSYOP specialist actively serving in the US occupation, and says himself that he “worked closely with the Brigade’s Information Operations Officer.”6

In an interview published on the New Museum website, Harvey glosses over the specifics of his work, noting that PSYOP sounds “more mysterious than it really is. Without resorting to the boring army manual definitions to describe what (we) do, in a nutshell it involves communicating with Iraqis.”7 Harvey goes on to describe his role as a distributor of printed materials and newspapers, warnings and other such “helpful” means to “reach the people of Baghdad.” Harvey also describes his platoon’s role in assisting in “nighttime raids” in civilian homes. He goes so far as to claim that by approaching families “with a smile, my rifle at my side,” he was able to “transform their experience.”8

It is unclear how Harvey is able to surmise that he was able to “transform” the experiences of Iraqi families faced with soldiers breaking into their homes in the middle of the night for surprise interrogations. With or without a smile, it seems unlikely that these were “transformative” experiences, at least in the positive ways insinuated. Moreover, one would imagine an Iraqi family faced with armed units in the middle of the night to not respond in a way that might communicate anger, trauma, or offense, lest they be viewed as ‘suspect.’  More significantly however, is the way that Harvey describes (and the museums involved lend passive agreement to) his role as a PSYOP specialist with the US Army. As an Information Specialist, it comes as no surprise that he is able to narrate his role as a peacemaker, making order out of chaos, distributing helpful information as though he were a volunteer member of a neutral public awareness campaign.

While Harvey may find the army definition of PSYOP “boring,” it is anything but that. According to US Army recruitment material:

PSYOP Soldiers use information to influence the behavior of foreign audiences in support of U.S. policy and national objectives. Used during peacetime, contingencies, and declared war, these activities are non-lethal…The ultimate objective of U.S. military Psychological Operations is to convince enemy, neutral, and friendly governments, forces and populations to take actions favorable to the United States and its allies…Strategic psychological operations advance broad or long-term objectives; global in nature, they may be directed toward large audiences or at key communicators.9

This role of PSYOP’s is far from neutral during war, and the use of a seasoned PSYOP officer, trained to provide information to domestic and foreign audiences that will shape opinions in support of US military action, provides a clear use of the military narrative in a contemporary art setting, a compelling site if targets include “key communicators.” That his central involvement in creating a framework for discourse was approved by staff at four separate, highly regarded institutions is disturbing to say the least.

Nato Thompson, a co-curator of the project from Creative Time, participated in the road trip and produced an online diary of his experiences. While much of Thompson’s diary was composed of fairly benign encounters and conversations that took place on the trip (interspersed with various dinners and social interactions with curators and organizers along the way) his comments regarding co-participant Essam Pasha exemplify the mistrust of a non-mitigated Arab voice and person.

During a stop in Santa Fe, Thompson describes a heated discussion between a man who “came at Essam with some aggression,” accusing religious extremists of being the problem in Iraq. Essam replies that money is at the root of the issue, and that members of the US Army are “actually mercenaries.” Thompson states that the man “lost it,” and instead of focusing on the man’s misplaced reaction Thompson goes on to observe:  

Essam’s opinions are coming to the surface more frequently as the days wear on. I am sure that he knew that calling the US troops mercenaries would upset that man, and I think he enjoyed that idea. There’s no point trying to stop him. His temperament, whichever way it goes, is part of the project.10

It seems that as Essam’s role continued, he began to maneuver away from his initial, more placid remarks on the war and the US army. The negative effect of his “opinions,” (which might upset some because they are removed from the dominant American narrative) is for some reason seen by Thompson as something Pasha derives pleasure from. Perhaps he does find pleasure in stating his opinion. Wouldn’t anyone?

Thompson makes the assumption that this pleasure is simply the result of making an American upset, rather than from voicing one’s own beliefs. Thompson’s next reaction, that there is “no point in trying to stop him,” is equally demeaning. Why would he, or anyone else, try to “stop him” from allowing his “opinions to come to the surface?” Is this not the point of the project? According to Thompson, it may not actually be his opinion that is the point of the project, but “his temperament, whichever way it goes.” Is the temperament of “our Iraqi giant,"11 as Thompson describes Pasha elsewhere in the diary, the point of the project, or is it an open platform for conversation?

The description of Pasha as both “our Iraqi giant” and as possessing of a temperament that takes pleasure in the negative reactions of Americans effectively turns Pasha into a caricature of the volatile Arab. “Our Iraqi giant,”11 is a domesticated kind of beast, taken cross-country for exhibition. As is inevitable in the tired “other” construct, the true, volatile nature of the beast rises to the surface (here in the form of an independent opinion), and when this happens, “there is no point in trying to stop him.”

Thompson seems to be unaware of the gravity of his remarks regarding Pasha, nor the fundamental issues with the way the project was constructed. Responding to a critique of the project in Art Lies: A Contemporary Art Quarterly, Thompson states that,  

Trying to not sound too pro- or antiwar was important in producing a peculiarly tense area for focusing on people who have been there…There is also the strange accusation that the project is somehow a tour of apathy. Surely, producing dialogue with a blown-up car, a soldier and an Iraqi on hand certainly evades what one might describe as apathetic. How strange it is that the most damning of political accusations tend to fall on the few –and there are so very few –political projects that actually try to address complex phenomena such as audience, points of legibility and political urgency. Compared to what kind of project is this project “apathetic.”12  

Thompson is absolutely right when he states that the project is not “apathetic,” though he seems to be surprisingly unconscious that naming two US military personnel (regardless of whether or not one is Iraqi) as “experts” is precisely why the project could never be seen as apathetic. While there were additional participants involved in the series of conversations that took place at the New Museum in New York (which included a more diverse group of speakers outside of the military and male sphere), these two individuals (“a soldier, an Iraqi”) formed the centerpiece of the talks, and were the only “experts” present at each point of the cross-country trip. Not only are these central individuals devoid of expertise regarding Iraq, but their involvement in the war produces a narrative that cannot be neutral. “Producing dialogue with a blown-up car, a soldier and an Iraqi” is the same sort of controlled dialogue that has been produced over and over again for US consumption by the US military and media. And it is the same imagery that has served as a central part of the war effort. Thompson identifies the critical need for “political projects that actually try to address complex phenomena,” but fails to realize that the points of legibility needed are in complete opposition to those he has assisted in curating and presenting.

This program was, in all earnestness, touted as an opportunity to converse with “experts” that might address the “gaps in information” about Iraq in a nonpartisan setting. As a work of conceptual art subject to critique, one can ask whether it has accomplished its goal. Perhaps the exhibition at the Hayward Gallery will be handled in a different way during its four-month run, though it seems there has been no shift from “a destroyed car, maps, a banner, a film work, as well as a participatory element.” As such, the “gaps in information” would be more effectively addressed if their investigation were not relegated solely to participants, but on the artist himself and the institutions privileged with the opportunity –and power- to frame these discussions.

1 "Exhibitions: Past, "New Commissions: Jeremy Deller: It Is What Is: Conversations About Iraq," (2009).

2 Sarah Hromack, "What It Is: A Conversation with Jeremey Deller," Art in America (2009).

3 "Laura Hoptman, Nato Thompson, and Amy Mackie, in Conversation with Jeremy Deller," (2008).

4 Amy Mackie Laura Hoptman, and Nato Thompson, "Project Description "It Is What It Is: Conversations About Iraq: A Project by Jeremy Deller"," (2008).

5 "Experts on the Road," (2008).

6 Jonathan Harvey, "Essay by Jonathan Harvey," (2008).

7 Ibid.

8 Ibid.

9 "Psychological Operations ",  http://www.bragg.army.mil/sorb/SORB_PSYOPSHOME.html.

10 Nato Thompson, "Sante Fe Plaza, Santa Fe, New Mexico," (2009).

11 Nato Thompson, "University of Houston, Houston, Texas," (2009).

12 Nato Thompson, "In Response," Art Lies: A Contemporary Art Quarterly 63 (2010).

Betty S. Anderson, The American University of Beirut: Arab Nationalism and Liberal Education. Austin: University of Texas Press, 2011.

Jadaliyya (J): What made you write this book?

Betty S. Anderson (BSA): I always joke that I conceived the project in the pool of the Carlton Hotel in Beirut. In June 2000, I visited Beirut for the first time so I could attend an Arab American University Graduate (AAUG) conference. One day, I walked with some friends all along the Corniche and up through the American University of Beirut (AUB) campus and then back to the hotel. Since it was late June and ridiculously hot, the only option at that point was to jump in the pool as quickly as possible. Two minutes in the pool and the thought occurred to me that my next research project was going to have to be about Beirut in some way. I had fallen in love with the city in just that one day. A half second later, I thought, I should write a history of AUB.

Besides the fact that I wanted to get back to Beirut as soon as possible, I wanted to know why AUB had been so influential in politicizing its students. At the time, I was doing additional research for my book on Jordan (Nationalist Voices in Jordan: The Street and the State) and a number of the political activists I studied had attended AUB. Their memoirs were filled with explanations and stories about how important those four years were for the development of their political identities. However, I had no idea as I floated in the pool that day that I’d have to do extensive research on Protestant missionaries and education long before I could even get to those Arab nationalists. At the time, I really knew relatively little about the school’s history.

J: What particular topics, issues, and literatures does it address?

BSA: When I finally got back to Beirut in 2004, it was research on the educational systems offered at the Syrian Protestant College and AUB that eventually ended up directing my thesis. I was struck initially by the goals the American founders and their successors set for the school. They talked more about the transformative process they wanted the students to undertake than the course options they were offering. For example, Daniel Bliss (1866-1902) preached about producing Protestants who understood not only the liturgy but the lifestyle required of one converting to this faith; Bayard Dodge (1923-1948) exhorted students to follow the model of the modern American man as they sought to develop new characters for themselves. The former presided over a missionary educational system, the latter the new liberal education system then being formulated back in America. The first half of the book discusses this shift as the American University of Beirut was renamed in 1920.

[Main gate of AUB campus. Photo by Betty S. Anderson.]

Liberal education, as American educators developed it in the second half of the nineteenth century, asks its students to be active participants in their educational experience. Before this point, professors taught their students a fixed body of knowledge; students were required to memorize and recite the data to prove that they had learned it. In liberal education, the system asks that professors teach students how to think and analyze so they can produce data on their own.

The second half of the book examines how the students reacted to this shifting pedagogical focus. The American leaders of the school repeatedly stated their goals for the students, and most books and articles on AUB focus on only those voices. However, that stance leaves out an important element of the AUB story, because only the students can truly determine whether the programs are effective. AUB is famous for the many student protests that have taken place on campus, starting with the Darwin Affair of 1882, leading to the Muslim Controversy of 1909, and then on to the large protests of the 1950s, 1960s, and 1970s. As I discovered when I delved into the archives, students used dozens of newspapers to explain why they were protesting. The catalyst was always a particular event, on campus or off, but the students always framed their arguments around the freedom they felt the liberal education system promised. They fought against any administrative attempts to curtail their actions and frequently accused the administration of not following the guidelines set by American liberal education. This issue became increasingly contentious as students worked to define an Arab nationalism that called on them to be politically active while on campus. The administration continually opposed this position, and many of the student-administrative conflicts centered on the differing definitions of freedom put forward on campus. I put “Arab Nationalism and Liberal Education” in the subtitle of the book because by the twentieth century, these were the two dominant elements defining the relationship between the students and the administration.

J: How does this work connect to and/or depart from your previous research and writing?

BSA: Most of my work has centered on education in one form or another. In my book on Jordan, I wrote of the politicizing role high schools in Jordan and Palestine, as well as schools like AUB, played in mobilizing a national opposition movement in the 1950s. I have published a number of articles analyzing the narratives the Jordanian and Lebanese states present to their students in history and Islamic textbooks. Moving on to a comprehensive study of one particularly influential school was a natural progression. The difference was that I now had to study American education in the same way I had previously examined the influence of education in the Middle East.

J: Who do you hope will read this book, and what sort of impact would you like it to have?

BSA: I hope AUB alumni want to read the book and, equally, that they find something of their story in it. I did not want to cite just the Americans who founded and ran the school; I purposely wanted to write about the students themselves. Typical university histories leave out the words and actions of the students in favor of hagiographies about the founders and their famous successors. I also hope that scholars and students interested in studies of education and nationalism will be interested. This is a book that addresses both Middle Eastern and American studies.

[Assembly Hall and College Hall, AUB Campus. Photos by Betty S. Anderson.]

J: What other projects are you working on now?

BSA: I have a contract with Stanford University Press to publish a book called State and Society in the Modern Middle East. Like with anyone who undertakes to write a textbook, I am frustrated with those that are currently available. Textbooks of the modern Middle East typically focus just on state formation, the actions of the chief politicians, and the political interplay between states. My text focuses instead on the relationship between state and society as it developed over the last two hundred years. The states in the region centralized in the nineteenth century, faced colonialism in the early twentieth century, and then independence after World War II; these stages created new roles for state leaders. Civil society, in the broadest definition of the term, emerged from the eighteenth century forward as people sought new ways to organize within and against the states now intruding on their lives. They took advantage of the new institutions the states built to establish for themselves new class, national, and gender definitions, while frequently opposing the states that had introduced these very institutions. My text examines how schools, government offices, newspapers, political parties, and women’s groups constantly negotiated new relationships with their respective states.

Excerpt from The American University of Beirut: Arab Nationalism and Liberal Education

From Chapter One:

"The great value of education does not consist in the accepting this and that to be true but it consists in proving this and that to be true," declared Daniel Bliss, founder of Syrian Protestant College (SPC; 1866–1920) and its president from 1866 to 1902, in his farewell address. President Howard Bliss (president, 1902–1920) said in his baccalaureate sermon in 1911, "In a word, the purpose of the College is not to produce singly or chiefly men who are doctors, men who are pharmacists, men who are merchants, men who are preachers, teachers, lawyers, editors, statesmen; but it is the purpose of the College to produce doctors who are men, pharmacists who are men, merchants who are men, preachers, teachers, lawyers, editors, statesmen who are men." Bayard Dodge (1923–1948) stated at his inauguration as president of the newly renamed American University of Beirut (AUB; 1920– ), "We do not attempt to force a student to absorb a definite quantity of knowledge, but we strive to teach him how to study. We do not pretend to give a complete course of instruction in four or five years, but rather to encourage the habit of study, as a foundation for an education as long as life itself." The successors to these men picked up the same themes when they elaborated on the school's goals over the years; most recently, in May 2009, President Peter Dorman discussed his vision of AUB’s role. "AUB thrives today in much different form than our missionary founders would have envisioned, but nonetheless—after all this time—it remains dedicated to the same ideal of producing enlightened and visionary leaders."

In dozens of publications, SPC and AUB students have also asserted a vision of the transformative role the school should have on their lives. The longest surviving Arab society on campus, al-`Urwa al-Wuthqa, published a magazine of the same name during most academic years between 1923 and 1954 and as of 1936 stated as its editorial policy the belief that "the magazine's writing is synonymous with the Arab student struggle in the university." From that point forward, the editors frequently listed the society's Arab nationalist goals. In the fall 1950 edition, for example, al-`Urwa al-Wuthqa's Committee on Broadcasting and Publications issued a statement identifying the achievement of Arab unity as the most important goal because "it is impossible to separate the history, literature and scientific inheritance of the Arabs" since "the Arab essence is unity." Toward this end, al-`Urwa al-Wuthqa pledged to accelerate the "growth of the true nationalist spirit" among the students affiliated with the organization. In describing education as an activist pursuit, the statement declares, "To achieve political ideas which are aimed at our nationalism it is necessary for we as students to seek information by many different means." In this call, the AUB Arab students must take on the task of studying the Arab heritage as thoroughly and frankly as possible so that when they graduate they can move into society with solutions to the many problems plaguing the Arab world.

Since the school's founding in 1866, its campus has stood at a vital intersection between a rapidly changing American missionary and educational project to the Middle East and a dynamic quest for Arab national identity and empowerment. As the presidential quotes indicate, the Syrian Protestant College and the American University of Beirut imported American educational systems championing character building as their foremost goal. Proponents of these programs hewed to the belief that American educational systems were the perfect tools for encouraging students to reform themselves and improve their societies; the programs do not merely supply professional skills but educate the whole person. As the quotes from al-`Urwa al-Wuthqa attest, Arab society pressured the students to change as well. The Arab nahda, or awakening, of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries called on students to take pride in their Arab past and to work to recreate themselves as modern leaders of their society; the Arab nationalist movement of the twentieth century asked that students take a lead in fighting for Arab independence from foreign control. The students streaming through the Main Gate year after year used both of these American and Arab elements to help make the school not only an American institution but also one of the Arab world and of Beirut, as the very name, the American University of Beirut, indicates. This process saw long periods of accommodation between the American-led administration and the Arab students, but just as many eras when conflict raged over the nature of authority each should wield on campus; the changing relationship between the administration and the students serves as the cornerstone of this book, for it is here where much of the educational history of SPC and AUB has been written.

From Chapter Five:

The 1952 April Fool’s Day issue of Outlook (called Lookout on that day) satirized the proliferation of student protests that had dominated campus life for the previous few years. In the paper’s lead article, the author declared, “A School of Revolutionary Government, designed to equip AUB students with a wide knowledge of modern techniques of conspiracy and revolution, is to be opened during the fall semester, a communique from the President’s Office announced late Friday.” Continuing the same theme, the article reports, “All courses will include a minimum of three lab hours to be spent in street battles with gendarmes and similar applications of theories learned in classrooms.” President Stephen Penrose (1948-1954), the article stated, gave a Friday morning chapel talk on the new school motto: “That they may have strife and have it more abundantly.” In a further announcement, the paper described the day’s protest.

There will be a demonstration this afternoon at three in front of the Medical Gate to object against everything[.] All those interested please report there promptly five [minutes] before time. The demonstration promises to be very exciting—tear gas will be used, and the slogans are simply delightful. If all goes well, police interference is expected. If not to join, come and watch.

This, of course, had not been the first era of student protest; the difference by the 1950s was the widespread and sustained nature of the conflict between the administration and the students. When Lookout published its satirical articles in 1952, students had been organizing demonstrations in support of Palestinians and Moroccans, and against any and all things imperialist, since 1947; these events only petered out in 1955 as the administration banned the two main groups organizing them, the Student Council and the Arab society, al-^cUrwa al-Wuthqa. Students engaged in these exercises explicitly as Arabs, proud of their past, and striving toward cultural, political and economic unity in the future. In their actions, students sought to integrate their educational experiences at AUB with the real-life events taking place outside the Main Gate, for only then did they feel they could be trained to function as the vanguard initiating the necessary changes in their society.

[Excerpted from Betty S. Anderson, The American University of Beirut: Arab Nationalism and Liberal Education. © 2011 by The University of Texas Press. Excerpted by permission of the author. For more information, or to order the book, click here.]

“Not a year has passed without hunger in Iraq,” wrote the great Iraqi poet al-Sayyab (1926–1964) more than half a century ago in his memorable poem “Rainsong.” Now, many years and many wars later, there is hunger aplenty. Were he alive today, al-Sayyab would have expressed nothing short of horror at the massive hunger in the “new” Iraq, especially when considering the obscene wealth that has been and is still being plundered and squandered by its rulers.

One in six Iraqis live in poverty. This is in a nation with the second highest oil reserves in the world and a budget surplus of more than fifty billion US dollars in 2011. According to Transparency International, Iraq has one of the most corrupt governments in the world. Some of the wealth stays inside the country and is spread among the beneficiaries and clients of the new political elite. Much of it, however, is transferred outside and translated into real estate or other assets, or is often hard to trace. Not a year has passed without plunder in Iraq.

The villains are not only or always Iraqis and the stolen money is not US taxpayer money. At least eighteen billion US dollars from Iraq’s frozen assets in the United States and from the surplus of the United Nations (UN) Oil-for-Food Program was sent from the Federal Reserve Currency Repository in New Jersey to Iraq right after the war. It was slated for the so-called Iraq Development Fund (IDF) during L. Paul Bremmer’s reign. All of that is now missing and there is not a single piece of paper to account for it or explain its whereabouts. Aside from the monstrous US embassy in Baghdad, the Iraq Reconstruction has nothing to show.

The executive summary of the Congressional Commission on Wartime Contracting in Iraq and Afghanistan stated in its August 2011 report that “at least 31 US billion dollars, and possibly as much as 60 US billion dollars, have been lost to contract waste and fraud” in both countries. Perhaps this is what Fouad Ajami had in mind when he described the invasion and occupation of Iraq as an “acquisition.” The plunder has not been limited to paper money. Scholars have documented the pillaging of Iraq’s ancient and modern cultural heritage immediately after the invasion of 2003. Some have called it a form of “cultural cleansing.” Every now and then we read “happy stories” about some of these stolen artifacts being found in the United States and returned to Iraq. But much remains missing.

It is not only precious artifacts and relics from Iraq’s ancient history that were smuggled to the United States. The United States pillaged millions of documents belonging to the Iraqi state. Another important collection of official records was seized by an Iraqi-American. The itinerary of this archive and the rhetoric legitimizing its “acquisition” is quite telling. In April 2003, Kanan Makiya, one of the cheerleaders of the war (during its first few weeks he wrote that the bombing was music to his ears) made his way to the basement under the Ba'th Party’s headquarters in Baghdad. Makiya removed the records he found there to his family home in what became later the Green Zone. The house supposedly became the Baghdad office of the Iraq Memory Foundation, a Washington, DC-based institution he established. The entire staff of the Iraq Memory Foundation is comprised of five persons, two of whom are not Iraqi. It has no advisory board of any sort, nor does it have any links to any Iraqi historians. It has no presence on the ground in Iraq outside the Green Zone. In 2005, the foundation reached an agreement with the US army to ship the documents to the United States.

Considering the rampant corruption of both the US occupation and the Iraqi puppet regime it installed in Iraq none of this is surprising. Nevertheless, it does not change the fact that these documents are not anyone’s private property. They belong to the Iraqi people and their seizure and transfer to the United States. was a violation of international law. Despite calls from Saad Eskander, the Director General of Iraq’s National Library and Archive, to return these documents to Iraq, the Iraq Memory Foundation decided otherwise. In January of 2008, the foundation signed an agreement with the Hoover Institution to transfer the documents there. Opposition did not only come from inside Iraq. In April of 2008, the Society of American Archivist (SAA) and the Association of Canadian Archivists (ACA), the world’s largest organization of archivists with 5100 members, expressed its “deep concern about [these] records and others obtained by the United States. . . in actions [that] may be considered an act of pillage, which is specifically forbidden by the 1907 Hague Convention.” The letter stressed that these records must be returned to Iraq “to be maintained as part of the official records in the National Library and Archives.”

These plundered documents are a treasure for scholars. They illuminate the inner dynamics of the Ba'th regime and trace its growth and detail its various visceral effects on Iraqi society. But, alas, neither Iraqi scholars, nor Iraqi citizens, the victims of the Ba'th regime, have access to these important documents from their visceral past. One of the “happy” stories about the benefits of this plunder to “our knowledge” speaks about the intensity with which some scholars are working on these “recovered” documents. “Recovered” is the key word here. The plunder is conveniently erased. But not for Iraqis. They have to live with the loss and fight to retrieve their plundered memory. And not a year has passed without plunder in Iraq.

As for the concerned scholars who mine this archive to “understand” the barbarism of the Ba'th regime, I wonder if they will find time to contemplate the "barbarism [that] taints the manner in which it was transmitted from one owner to another," to borrow Benjamin's words.

On the one-year anniversary of the February 20 protest movement in Morocco, (henceforth referred to as Feb. 20), the kingdom boasts relatively meager political progress. Despite the much-vaunted reforms and constitutional changes, Morocco has reinvigorated its state edifice, managed to outmaneuver an inexperienced Feb. 20 protest movement, and engaged in a crackdown on freedom of the press and speech. In the last couple of weeks, the regime has arrested three Moroccans for crimes against his majesty’s person and “defaming Morocco’s sacred values.” In a country where the monarch is inviolable, the use of cartoons depicting the king is considered an outrage to a symbol of the country. 

More importantly, a year after the initial mass protests, we need to assess the record of the movement in terms of appeal and success in Morocco. The Feb. 20 movement has undoubtedly sparked a national discussion for institutional changes, but fell short in exercising enough pressure for deeper structural changes to both the political system dominated by the king, and a system of crony-capitalism that has for decades crippled the national economy. The new constitution is an impressive exercise in state management of dissent. Groundbreaking only in its style and cosmetic in terms of real effective change, the constitution allows for greater executive power for the Prime Minister, but falls short in tackling the vast discretionary powers of the monarchy. 

The constitution does not address aspects of direly needed reforms. Kleptocracy and nepotism are endemic in the Moroccan administration and economy. No matter how inchoate institutional reforms are, they have to be complemented with stringent, implementable guarantees against abuse of power, corruption, and inequality of the laws. Individual freedom and liberty of the press are guaranteed in the constitution, but have to be safeguarded from the arbitrary abuses of the state. The result is the same maladies of yesteryear: a regime suffering from institutional schizophrenia, promoting inconsequential reforms, and tightening its grip on power and individual freedom. 

Even the much-publicized electoral victory of the Justice and Development Party is hardly revolutionary, and is in fact out of sync with the ambitions of millions of Moroccans longing for democratic progress. The elections featured the same panoply of state engineering as past elections. In the absence of rigorous laws against corruption and fraud, one can expect the same old violations. Moroccans abroad were also barred from voting, the electoral districts were drawn arbitrarily to favor pro-palace parties, and some thirty-one parties from different ideological and non-ideological strands saturated the electoral scene. This inevitably bars any one party from gaining an outright majority in the 395-seat parliament. In such an environment, elections have brought minimal political progress to Morocco and are yet another tool for the regime to control the public discourse in the middle of turbulent times for the Middle East and North Africa region. The elections also served to legitimize the cosmetic constitutional changes of July 2011 as the regime sits unchallenged, uncontested, and jubilant. 

The success of the regime so far is also a function of the weakness of the protest movement in Morocco. From the very first protests, the movement was beset by reports of infighting, as three founding members called for the cancellation of the demonstrations because of what they perceived as foreign interference with the movement. The movement lacks organization and popular appeal. I was at the movement's post-referendum protests in Marrakech, and the number of protesters was negligible. The results of the referendum have dealt the movement a major blow. It may not prove to be a fatal one, but it has severely restricted the movement’s ability to mount a significant challenge to the edifice of the state in Morocco. 

The movement for reform in Morocco has to regroup and recast its message in more strategic ways, focusing on what can be achieved in the short versus long term. Any attempt, or perceived attempt, of reproach for the monarchical institution has to be carefully calibrated, in order to reflect the duality in the modern Moroccan state between the ‘Alaoui monarchical regime and the institutions of the government. The monarchy has been an institution above the political fray, of course, with total control over the travails of the political scene. 

The Feb. 20 movement must, at this point, strive for cohesion and build the foundations for an autonomous visionary leadership away from widely perceived "puppet" relationships with the left or the right in Morocco. If this movement is a reflection of the youth movements elsewhere in the Arab world, it has to distance itself from old political and civil society organizations. Most of all, it has to polish its image and message and diversify its sources of information dissemination. Reliance on social media as a sole means of organization may prove limited given the state’s capacity to intercept and manipulate social media massages. 

Social media has been crucial as a form of coordination for the Arab protest movements that toppled dictators in Tunisia, Egypt, and Libya, while destabilizing others. Social media significantly increased the geographical reach of social movements and cemented members to each other. However, that same form of organization reduces the cost of participation and can limit the effectiveness of collective action. A movement that relies solely on media activism will inevitably face a greater dilemma of message control and member commitment. Additionally, such movements face the constant dual state response of censorship and propaganda. Social media isolates the movement from the majority non-users of its technological tools. In a country where the majority of population is illiterate, this creates a fundamental problem for the protest movement’s appeal. A mixture of strategies between social media and on the ground mobilization could prove more effective in re-branding the Feb. 20 movement, not just as a channel for disenchanted youth, but as a national movement for socioeconomic and political change.

The Feb. 20 movement is at a loss for a genuine strategy of contestation that provides an alternative challenge to the state discourse of socio-political reforms. Despite continued demonstrations and sit-ins, the movement is dwindling in numbers and has degenerated into unorganized gatherings of popular grievances. Some have suggested the evolution of the Feb. 20 protest movement into a political party; however, that will still not be successful. In the absence of a vibrant political party scene in the country, a new party will simply drown in the current fragmented and carefully managed party system.  Instead of party politics, Feb. 20 has to re-organize as a social movement and identify a source for mobilization. As a movement with disruptive potential, its leadership, if any, needs to identify ways to generate and sustain organized mass action with new forms of diffusion and organization.

"لقد رأيت الشجرة، لكن الجذور في مكان آخر." (مثل هندي)

إنّ الصورة المهيمنة اليوم حول الثورة السورية والتي يتمّ إغراقنا فيها، سواء عبر أبواق النظام السوري أو عبر القنوات الغربية و العربية "المعادية" له مثل "الجزيرة" وأبواقها في العالم العربي، هي أنّ العالم ينقسم الى فسطاطين لا ثالث لهما:

لديك من جهة "الثوار" وجيشهم الحرّ، تركيا "العثمانية الجديدة" ودول مجلس التعاون الخليجي، وفي قلب هؤلاء قطر وأميرها، وفي الخلفية هناك الولايات المتحدة الاميركية وأوروبا وإسرائيل. أما في الجهة المقابلة، فلديك النظام الأسدي في سوريا ومن حوله إيران و"حزب الله" اللبناني، "الممانعين"، وفي الخلفية هناك روسيا والصين و"فيتوهما" في المرصاد.

للوهلة الأولى، فانّ الفيتو الروسي والصيني الذي رفع في مجلس الأمن يؤكّد تلك الرواية. إنها حتماً تلك الوقفة "المنيعة/الممانعة" للتدخل الغربي "الامبريالي" العسكري المفترض في سوريا! لكن حقيقة أشمل وأعمق من هذا التفسير السائد جداً لما يحصل، والذي يساهم الفسطاطان بانتاجه على حدّ سواء، يتبدّى لكل من يريد فهم الأمور على أعمق من ظاهرها. تكمن الحقيقة حتماً، في البحث خلف لعبة المرايا الدائرة اليوم التي تحلو جداً لفروع من اليسار العربي فهلوي جداً الى درجة اليمينية الفظّة (1) والذي يبدو أنّ مهمته تتلخص في "شدّ وجه" "الممانعة" بلغو يساروي. تحلو لعبة المرايا كذلك لتيّارات اليسار الغربي "المعادية للامبريالية" التي لا يجيد أكثرها سوى سياسات الهوية، غير مدركة أنّ محاربة الظلم الفاشي أينما كان كان ومازال جزءاً لا يتجزّأ من مسالة أن تكون يسارياً، وأنّ طلب العدالة من أجل الشعب السوري هو في صلب أن تكون يسارياً. لكنه يبدو أنّه يطيب لكل تلك التيارات بقاء الاستبدادين الايراني والسوري من أجل إعادة انتاج نفسها وخطابها الى ما لا نهاية. فوجود هكذا نظامين "ممانعين" واستبدادين مبرّر لوجود نوع من يسار يتكلّم عن فلسطين فقط من أجل أن لا يتكلّم عن أيّ شيء آخر. (2)

الا أنّه هناك أدلة مادية أيضاً على زيف كلّ تلك الرواية، أوّلها حقيقة أنّ "حزب الله" كما الكيان الصهيوني يصلّيان ليلاً ونهاراً هذه الأيام من أجل أن يخرج الاسد "حيّاً" منمأزقه!(3) فماهي دلالات التقاء اسرائيل و"حزب الله" على دعم النظام السوري من أجل أن يخرج من "ورطته"، كلّ منهما لأسبابه الخاصة؟ الا يثير الريبة بعض الشيء، أنّ يلتقي عدوان لدودان مثل ايران وإسرائيل على بقاء النظام السوري، نحن الذي نفترض مسبقاً أنّ العداء بين هؤلاء مطلق و باقٍ "الى يوم الدين"؟ كيف نفهم التفاهمات الصارخة في العراق -الذي ما يزال محتلاً- بين إمبريالية أميركية وهيمنة إيرانية، والتي جعلت من العراق مستعمرة أميركية بالكامل ونصف مستعمرة ايرانية ثيوقراطية؟ كيف نفهم العلاقات الممتازة بين قادة ليبيا، المستعمرة الجديدة، و ايران التي يبدو أنّه لم يكن لديها مشكلة بأن يحصد قصف "الناتو" أكثر من 60 الف قتيل في بلد عربي -و إسلامي- لتهلّل بالعلاقات الحميمة مع القيادة "الجديدة"هناك (4)؟ كيف نفهم هذا العطف الفجائي للامبريالية الاميركية على الشعب السوري وهي المسؤولة بالأساس عن الجزء الأكبر من المآزق التي تعاني منها الشعوب العربية اليوم- ومنها الشعب السوري- و نقصد بالذات دوام استبداد أنظمة من المحيط حتى الخليج لأكثر من نصف قرن والمرتبط عضوياً بوجود اسرائيل؟ كيف نصدّق أنّ الولايات المتحدة التي تدعم فاشية العسكر المتجددة في مصر بالتعاون مع الاخوان المسلمين، هي نفسها داعية الحرية والديموقراطية من أجل الشعب السوري؟

الحقيقة أنّ في تلك القراءة المهيمنة للسياسة الدولية حول سوريا قدر لا بأس به من اللاعقلانية. إنّه طرح يتغاضى عن اعتبارات المصالح السياسية والاقتصادية للاعبين(5) والحسابات الثورية المعتادة حول العلاقة بين ما يمكن فعله وما يمكن تحقيقه، ليغرق في أحسن الأحوال في خطاب ينظّر في السياسة الدولية من المنظار الأخلاقي؛ و يسبح هذا الخطاب في أسوأ أحواله في نظرة مانوية للعالم مستوحاة من كتابات المحافظين الجدد في عهد بوش الابن، حين تصبح فيها المعركة الأم تقام ضد "محور الشرّ" الذي يضم روسيا والصين، يتمّ فيها الابدال الضمني في خضمّ خطاب يميني سائد(6) تحت مسمى "الليبرالية"، بين روسيا والصين 2011، وصور الاتحاد السوفياتي ستالين كما صين ماوتسي تونغ.

لا نستغرب وجود هذه النظرة عند أبواق النظام بالطبع، فهذه من عدّته الاديولوجية المعروفة؛ لكننا نرى أكثر ما نرى هذه النظرة عند "قيادة الثورة" نفسها، ونعني بذلك هنا أكثر ما نعني "المجلس الوطني السوري" القطري التمويل، التركي التمركز والفرنسي الدعم. فأعضاء هذا المجلس لا يبدو أنهم يمارسون السياسة الثورية من أجل ايصال الثورة السورية وانجاحها الى برّ الامان، بل يتأرجح عملهم اليومي للمراقب العادي بين الكتابة على "فايسبوك" والبهرجات الاعلامية. يصرّ هؤلاء على تبشير الناس الرائعة التي تقتل كلّ يوم واعدين "بقرب الخلاص من النظام المجرم"، من دون الشرح لهم - وهؤلاء الناس هم "سوريا الجديدة"- ما هي الخطوات السياسية التي يعتزمون القيام بها غير تسوّل "عدم رفع" الفيتو الروسي والصيني الى ما لا نهاية... كلّ ذلك بدل أن يصارح من هم في القيادة السياسية شعبهم أن احتمال أن يقمع النظام الثورة الى ما لا نهاية و ينجو بنفسه ممكن جداً اذا ما استمرّت الامور على هذا المنوال ويفتحون نقاشاً جدياً ومن دون قيود حول ما يمكن فعله. وبالرغم انّ المحددات الداخلية هي التي ستقرّر في النهاية طول عمر النظام الذي ينهك كلّ يوم وخصوصاً على المستوى الاقتصادي، يجب الاخذ بعين الاعتبار أن تدهور الاحوال الاقتصادية في سوريا لا يعني حتمية الانهيار السياسي او الفعلي للنظام والذي قد يأخذ وقتاً طويلاً، او أنه قد يحدث شيء مفاجىء وبكل بساطة يغير من إتجاه الامور الحالي سواء كان ذلك لمصلحة النظام او لا. الا أننا بأيّة حال لا نفهم ماذا فعلت القيادة "الثورية" لهذه الناس التي تقتل بأعداد هائلة أطفالاً و نساءاً و شيوخاً في حمص المحاصرة اليوم لانجاح الثورة سياسياً غير التطنيش في حينه عن نقاش العودة الى بعثة عربية لتقصّي الحقائق- و كأنما هناك حقائق بحاجة للتقصي- يترأسها جنرال مجرم حرب سوداني أطال عملها من عمر النظام أكثر فأكثر؟

نقول ذلك الآن ونشير الى قرار تسمية يوم الجمعة "بروسيا تقتل أطفالنا" والتي تتمّ بتصويت "ديموقراطي" على "الفايسبوك"- من غير المفهوم كيف يمكن اعتبار ذلك التصويت على أنّه يمثّل حتى أكثرية السوريين ضد الأسد- خصوصاً أنّ هذا التصويت يتمّ أحياناً كثيرة بشكل موجّه "من فوق" و بتأثير من أطراف سياسية في "المجلس الوطني" وغيره وبعض داعمي المجلس من أهل الخليج العربي. إنّ هكذا تسميات تبدو لنا أنها تعبّر عن خيارات سياسية إنتحارية بالنسبة للحراك الثوري يجب التحدث فيها ومساءلتها قبل فوات الأوان، خصوصاً في ظلّ الوضع السياسي الدولي المريح للنظام السوري حتى اليوم و الذي يبدو أنه استعاد بعضاً من الدفع الداخلي في المرحلة الأخيرة ولو أنّ هذا خاضع للتغيّر دائماً. وهذا النقاش الصريح واجب على كلّ حريص على مصلحة الشعب السوري وتطلعاته بالحرية و الكرامة.

إن أوّل خطوة لفهم ما يحصل تقوم حتماً بالتخلص من وهم - ما تزال تنتجه مدرّعات التفكير الاميركية لنخبها -وهو أنّ روسيا اليوم دولة فاسدة بل "فاشلة"، و نشير هنا الى عادة الشلف في هذا الموضوع والتي تحشر كلمة "مافيات روسية" حين التحدث عن روسيا، لتصوّر أنّ الأخيرة هي "دولة عصابات" اليوم وليست دولة عظمى حديثة تأخذ قراراتها من أجل مصلحتها القومية العليا تماماً كما الولايات المتحدة الأميركية وقد تصيب أو تخطئ في السياسة مثلها مثل الولايات المتحدة أيضاً. إنّ الجواب البسيط على ذلك والعقلاني جداً، هو الاعتراف بأنّه إذا كانت روسيا بوتين لم تعد حتما اليوم إمبراطورية الاتحاد السوفياتي البائدة، الا أنّها لا تزال دولة عظمى -وليست الأعظم بالطبع- ولديها حتماً حساباتها الجيوستراتيجية في أمنها القومي ونفوذها السياسي والاقتصادي في العالم. وكما روسيا كذلك الصين، لنستنتج من كلّ ذلك أنّه من المتوقّع جداً، بل من الطبيعي، أن تحاول روسيا المحافظة على مصالحها في العالم العربي من قواعد عسكرية وفضاءات اقتصادية، والتي أمّنها تقليدياً نظام البعث في سوريا بكونه حليفاً تاريخياً لها، خصوصاً وأنّ سوريا هذه هي آخر موقع لها مباشر في المتوسط.

لكنّ لا! كل ذلك لا يبدو أنه داخل في حسابات "قيادة الثورة". بل أكثر ما نرى هو بعض المجلس الوطني في تفاجئهم الدوري على الاعلام -لا بل في استنكارهم "الاخلاقي" الطابع حصراً وبناء على تحليل خاطىء ينشرونه في الاعلام، من تلك المحاولات الروسية المفهومة جداً لأي شخص عقلاني، بالمحافظة على مصالحها وحتماً ليس إعجاباً بمجازر النظام السوري أو بتبعات موقفهم الذي يجعلهم أقل شعبية في عيون كثير من السوريين المسمّرين على الاعلام الداعم للثورة. أماا الروس وهم الاكثر تأثيراً في مؤسسات النظام السورية الأمنية والعسكرية وارتباطاتها الإقليمية فهم في وضع لا يحسدون عليه. فهم مجبرون في النهاية على دعم نظام يفقد شرعيته الداخلية يوماً بعد يوم، في حين يصعب فيه عليهم أنّ يصدّقوا أنّ انتصار نخبة تريد التخلص من النظام السوري الحالي- وهي نخبة غير مستعدّة لإعطاء أيّة ضمانات حقيقية حول المصالح القومية الروسية- لن يعني سوى اتساعاً للسياسة الأميركية-الأوروبية في المنطقة وانحساراً خانقاً للفضاء الاستراتيجي الروسي. نقول ذلك خصوصاً أنّه ومن كثرة ما تخصص أهل المجلس بشتم الروس والصينيّن، أصبحوا يؤثرون بشدة على الرأي العام الثوري وعلى تنسيقيات الثورة السورية كما عبر شعبويات "الجزيرة" والتي أصبح عندها، وخلال أشهر، حرق الأعلام الروسية والصينية فولكلوراً أسبوعياً. لكن رغم كلّ ذلك يستمرّ خطاب "يا عيب الشوم على روسيا والصين" – ولا شيء غير "عيب الشوم" يزاد على ما يقال في النقاش- في الهيمنة الإعلامية، بدل العمل السياسي الثوري على جلب دعم روسي وصيني للثورة منذ البداية.

يبدو أنه قد أصبح ثابتاً من وجهة النظر الروسية، بعد كل هذا الوقت من قمع النظام - وهناك حقّ على كلّ من ثبّتها في أعين الروس- أنّ بعض ممن في القيادة السياسية للثورة أصبحوا من العدة الغربية بارتباطاتهم و التزاماتهم الإقليمية من قطر الى تركيا. وإلى أن يبدأ العمل من أجل تغيير ذلك، تكون أسباب ذلك مفهومة بعد سبعة أشهر من وجود "المجلس الوطني السوري"، لذلك يُطرح السؤال المركزي هنا: كيف يمكن تقبّل واقع أنّ قيادةً "ثوريةً" يفترض بها جلب كلّ الدعم السياسي الممكن للثورة والتخفيف من عمر النظام بشكله الحالي، لا تملك من الحكمة في التعامل مع مصالح الدولة العظمى الأكثر تأثيراً على توجّهات القيادة السورية الحالية الّا باستعدائها تلك الدولة الى أقصى حدَ؟ ولماذا لم يتم طرح إمكانية أن توفر سوريا ديموقراطية في مرحلة انتقالية غطاءاً حقيقياً لمصالح الروس في المنطقة بشكل جدي؟ (7) هل تلك مجرّد أخطاء سياسية أم يفسّرها ارتباط مادي لجزء من تلك النخب ببعض الأطراف الدولية دون أخرى؟ (8)

الواضحٌ إذاً هنا أنّه ثمة فرق شاسع بين الثوار السلميين على الأرض وبين قيادتهم. هناك ثوار لا طائفيون إجمالاً، يسجّلون بطولات خالدة في وجه قمع دامي وهائل؛ وهناك قيادة أبو ملحم "الثورية" التي لا تعمل في السياسة بل تعيش خارج الحسابات العقلانية للسياسة الدولية وقد أضاعت بذلك بوصلة الحراك الثوري (9)، لا بل هي ساهمت بشكل أو بآخر في إطالة عمر النظام الذي يقتل كلّ يوم. يبقى من الواجب هنا التشديد على عدم الخلط في الحكم على الثورة السلمية بشكل ساحق من خلال أداء قيادتها، بل من خلال ما تعبّر عنه التنسيقيات السورية والتي هي الممثل الأقرب إلى ما يريده الشعب السوري المنتفض اليوم، اللهم حينما لا تعيد تلك التنسيقيات إنتاج كلام قيادتها، خصوصاً إذا ما أخذنا في الحسبان التأثير بالغ القوة لمن يقرّر السياسة التحريرية لقناة "الجزيرة" في تشكيل السرديات السائدة للسياسة الدولية لدى الرأي العام للثورة.

الواضح مثلاً عدم وجود مشكلة فعلية لدى الولايات المتحدة الاميركية في بقاء النظام في سوريا رغم كل ما تقوله مما يعاكس ذلك. (10) إلا أنّ أهل المجلس لا يبنون حساباتهم السياسية على النيات والمصالح التي تضمرها الولايات المتحدة بل على ما تعلنه فقط وهو ذاك الخطاب الإنسانوي الإمبراطوري حول الدعوة إلى الديموقراطية والمعطوفة على حرية الرأسمال. لا مشكلة لدى الولايات المتحدة وإسرائيل في بقاء النظام في سوريا على الإطلاق. لا بل أنّ احتمال أن تكونا إلى جانب النظام في الحقيقة وتعملان على إفشال الثورة قد يكون قائماً وحقيقياً بشكل فعلي. (11) فنحن لم نر حتى الآن سوى الولايات من المتحدة سوى دعم كلامي، صوري و سينمائي للثورة السورية من دون أي دعم مادي وحقيقي بعد أكثر من 11 شهراً من القتل اليومي (12)، لتنتهي البهلوانيات الكلامية الغربية دائماً بوضع "الحق على الروس". نسأل بعد كل ذلك: في مصلحة من إذا طغيان معزوفة "الغرب واميركا مع الثورة" عند الجميع؟

إنّ جل ما تحققه الولايات المتحدة من خلال موقفها الحالي من الثورة السورية، ولومها كل شيء على الفيتو الروسي والصيني هو استمالة أعداد أكبر من السوريين اليها وتنمية عداء متزايد لقطاعات من الشعب السوري لروسيا والصين. هذا مكسب سياسي لا يستهان به تكتفي به الولايات المتحدة اليوم ولا بأس إذا ذهبت البلاد في حرب أهلية بالنسبة لها، فذلك سيكون أفضل بكثير لمصالحها ومصالح اسرائيل في المنطقة من ديموقراطية في سوريا. فلعبة المرايا التي تدور اليوم مبنية على وهم مركزي: إن مقولة التدخل العسكري الغربي في سوريا.

في الحقيقة، لم تكن هناك يوماً وليس هناك حتى الآن، أية نيّة لتدخلٍ عسكري في سوريا كما حصل في ليبيا (13)، رغم كل البروباغندا والبروباغندا المعادية حول ذلك. الدليل الأكبر على ذلك هو المآل الأخير للسياسة الخارجية اللفظية التركية حول سوريا والتي خفتت بشكل مفاجىء منذ أشهر. ولا ننسى التذكير هنا بالمناسبة، بأنّ تركيا هي الدولة العضو في "الناتو" وهو الذي يصرّح قادته العسكريون مرّة تلو الأخرى ألا نية لديهم في الهجوم على سوريا (14). يعني هذا فيما يعنيه الكثير، حين نحسب أنّ السياسة الخارجية التركية بمعناها الواسع هي امتداد للسياسة الأميركية في المنطقة.

فبين أميركيون يدعمون الأسد من تحت الطاولة و يقولون عكس ذلك بعد أكثر من 7500 شهيد؛ و بين روس و صينيون وإيرانيون يدعمون الأسد على المكشوف ويصرّحون بذلك؛ وبين أهل مجلس وطني سوري مبني برنامج عمل الكثير منهم على الدعاية لكلام الأميركيين المعسول بينما لا يفيد أداؤم سوى بإطالة عمر النظام وتخريب الثورة، يبدو جلياً اليوم أنّ الثوار السوريين منكوبون بنظام مجرم يواجههم يومياً بالقتل وبقيادة ثورية تعمل خارج مفاهيم السياسة بالمرة عن حسن أوعن سوء نية. يبقى القول أنّ أوّل خطوة في العمل السياسي الثوري هي الاعتراف بالحقيقة مهما كانت قاسية. والحقيقة هنا هي أنّ الكوكب بأسره اليوم يقف ضد الثورة السورية الباسلة. بعدها فقط يبدأ العمل السياسي الثوري.

هوامش:

(1) مثال على ذلك هو أداء وموقف قيادة الحزب الشيوعي اللبناني حيال الوضع السوري التي يبدو أنّها شاركت رجل أعمال سوري وهو قدري جميل (900 ألف دولار)، و رجل الأعمال اللبناني ميخائيل عوض (200 ألف دولار) بإنشاء محطة "اليسارية" والذي يترأس مجلس إدارتها…الأمين العام للحزب الشيوعي اللبناني خالد حدادة نفسه!أما آخر ما يمكن قراءته حول موقف الحزب الشيوعي من الذي يحصل في سوريا فهو خطاب أمينه العام الذي‪ ‬صرّح مؤخراً في مهرجان خطابي أنّه ‪"كفى حلا أمنيا، لانه لم يستطع ولن يستطيع أن ينقذ سوريا شعباً ووطناً وقضية وموقعاً في مواجهة الاستعمار والامبريالية. الحل لم يعد ممكناً إلا بتقاطع الحركة الشعبية الممثلة بالكثير من الوجوه والهيئات والأحزاب والشخصيات المعارضة الديموقراطية، وليس بمجلس إسطنبول وبرهان غليون، مع الخطط المعلنة للإصلاح، وهذا التقاطع هو وحده الكفيل بأن يدخل   سوريا ومعها الكثير في وضع المنطقة في مرحلة بناء الدولة المدنية الديمقراطية المتنوعةوالعددية."‬

(2)‪ ‬ على الرغم من أهمية وجود  حملة مقاطعة ومعاقبة اسرائيل في لبنان ً فانّ الإنشغال الإعلامي المبالغ به حول ذلك إذا ما قورن بتتبع الاستنفار الاعلامي من أجل ضحايا السوريين، لا يبدو أنّه موجود أو بصدد التحوّل نحو إنتاج تيار لبناني يساري خارج اصطفافي14 و 8 آذار يقف مع عدالة القضية السورية. كل ذلك بينما الكتّاب الفلسطينيون أّول من يتضامن مع الشعب السوري في بيانهم الأخير بعنوان ‪"‬ليس باسمنا ليس باسم فلسطين أيها القتلة‪.‬"
 
(3) مع أنّ الأمين العام لحزب الله مصيب في ظاهر نقده للشعارات المرفوعة من قبل جزء من المعارضة في سوريا بقوله "إن الذي يريد حقن الدماء، الحريص على الدم السوري، على الشعب السوري، على مستقبل سوريا، لا يقول فات الأوان، لا يذهب إلى حوار بشروط ، "إما يتنحى الرئيس أو لا حوار"، يعني هناك استهداف. الحريص على سوريا يذهب إلى الحوار‪!‬ " لكنّ الحقيقة هي أن الأمين العام لحزب الله يدافع في خطابه عن القيادة السورية بشكل فاضح و يساهم في البروباغندا للنظام، متجاهلاً كل القمع الذي يحصل و القتل و القصف الممنهج للمدنيين، فيصوّر وكأنه ليس هناك من عمليات قتل و قصف منهجيين للمدنيين في سوريا من قبل النظام طوال الأشهر الأحد عشر الماضية وفي حمص في نفس الوقت الذي كان فيه هذا الأخير يلقي الخطاب. أما بالنسبة لدراسة معمقة للموقف الإسرائيلي من تغيير النظام في سوريا فانظر إلى الدراسة الممتازة التالية هنا بعنوان "الموقف الاسرائيلي حيال الأحداث في سوريا" و التي ترجّح، بشكل مقنع، بأن من مصلحة اسرائيل بقاء النظام السوري.

(4) إيران تحتفي بمقتل حليفها المديد القذافي على أنه" نصر عظيم".

(5) يشرح كيلو موقف روسيا في المقابلة أدناه قائلاً "هناك عامل آخر لا ينتبه له. روسيا هي مورّد الطاقة الرئيسي لأوروبا الغربية، خاصة من الغاز. هناك مشاريع أميركية وأوروبية لبناء مصدر للطاقة، للغاز، من قطر والعراق عبر سوريا إلى أوروبا. إذا حدث هذا وخرجت روسيا من سوريا تستطيع أن تتصوّر أي روسيا ستكون هذه الروسيا. ستكون فعلياً دولة من الدرجة العاشرة. روسيا تدافع الآن عن حالها بسوريا وعلينا نحن الآن أن لا نضعها في الزاوية."

(6) أكثر ما يسود هذا الخطاب هو عند كتاب يدافعون عن انتهازية جناح 14 آذار في خصوص الثورة السورية والتي تستخدم خطاباً يزعم دعم الثورة السورية يتراوح ما بين طائفية محرّضة مغرضة وبين علمانية يمينية تحاول الترويج "لسوريا جديدة" لا مشكلة لديها مع الغرب وإسرائيل بالإجمال. المفارقة هنا هي أن النائب أحمد فتفت من "تيار المستقبل" وهواليساري السابق، قال إنه بحسب معلومات لديه من قلب الولايات المتحدة فإنّ اللوبي الاسرائيلي يضغط على الإدارة الأميركية بشكل شديد لإنقاذ الأسد. 

(7) في مقابلة حديثة للمعارض السوري المعروف ميشيل كيلو، اعتبر هذا الأخيرأن روسيا تعتبر أنه من الممكن "التفكير بحل "يمني" في سوريا ...ويقوم على تشكيل حكومة وحدة وطنية بإشراف نائب رئيس الجمهورية الذي يتولّى صلاحيات واسعة و بضمانات... و يكون عملها الحقيقي باتجاه نقل الوضع إلى مرحلة انتقالية تخرج البلد من أزمتها...أعتقد أن هذه طريقة مقبولة لايجاد حلول لأزمات مستعصية" و حول موقف روسيا يقول "موسكو طرحت فكرة لم نحتفل بها كثيراً كمعارضة..أنا شخصياً قلت هذا ممكن. أخذت الجامعة العربية الفكرة، قفزت عن المرحلة الثانية من المبادرة التي تقول بمفاوضات بين المعارضة و السلطة على مرحلة انتقالية و حددت نتائج هذه المرحلة الإنتقالية بقرارها-أي الجامعة العربية- ثم أخذت الحلّ "اليمني" الذي هو اقتراح روسي إلى الأمريكان في مجلس الأمن. أنا أعتقد أنّ هذا ما أزعج الروس كلّ هذا الازعاج وأشعرهم أنه هناك من يريد الذهاب الى مجلس الأمن على الطريقة الليبية في كلّ الظروف والأحوال...كان يجب أن يذهب أمين العام الجامعة العربية مع السيد وزير خارجية قطر، إن أراد وزير خارجية قطر، لأن وزير خارجية قطر هو الذي كان ضد زيارته إلى موسكو  ويقول لهم "نحن سنقبل الحلّ اليمني و سيعتمد عربياً ونريد أن نتباحث معكم حول شروط تطبيق هذا الحلّ، و الضمانات التي تقدمونها له والتي تطلبونها من المعارضة في سوريا و من المرحلة الانتقالية"...ثم يذهب  بعد ذلك وبموافقتهم إلى مجلس الأمن حينذاك  لا تكون المسألة مشروع روسي وإعطائه للامريكان…هذه الغلطة الكبيرة التي ارتكبتها الجامعة العربية تحت ضغوط قطرية، أقولها لك بكل صراحة".  و يزيد كيلو "المبادرة الروسية هي فعلاً فرصة حقيقية لاعطاء النظام دوراً في مستقبل سورية، ليس ربما لاشخاص وانما النظام، وأنا أعتقد أنّ الروس هم الوحيدين الذين يستطيعون الكلام مع النظام حول مستقبل سوريا بعكس الامريكان، الفرنسيين و الألمان…وكان يجب حتى في حال أن النظام لا يقبل، أن نتحدث معهم،أو أن تتحدث الجامعة العربية معهم حول ها الحل أقلّه لكسب روسيا ولإخراجها من معادلة الصراع باعتبارها دولة تريد أن تدافع عن مركزها في سورية لأنه ربما كان آخر مركز في آسيا...روسيا لها مصلحة كونية في أن تبقى في سوريا...وانا مع أن تعطى روسيا ضمانات وأن يكون لها وجود حقيقي في سوريا".

من هنا واجب التفكير إذا ما كانت تلك الضغوط القطرية نابعة من قطر أو من الولايات المتحدة وماذا يعني ذلك بالنسبة للتصورات الرائجة حول موقف الولايات المتحدة من الثورة السورية في صفوف المعارضين المناصرين للولايات المتحدة، خصوصاً إذا ما أضفنا الى ذلك الموقف الاسرائيلي المعادي للثورة.  لقد كتب كيلو مقالاً حول ذلك في جريدة "الشرق الأوسط" بعد مقابلته  بأيام بعنوان  "هل أخطأت الجامعة العربية؟!"

(8) كتب ميشيل كيلو مقالة ممتازة  فاعتبر‪ ‬أنّ "ليس رفض الحوار واتهام كل من يتحدث عنه غير دليل على تخلف الوعي السياسي عامة والديموقراطي خاصة: فالسياسي يعلم أن الحوار ورقة يمكن أن تكون ضاغطة جداً على الخصم، وأنها قد تسبب له من الإرباك ما قد تعجز الوسائل الأخرى عنه، وأن كل صراع قد ينتهي بحوار يمهد لتفاوض وتالياً لحل لا تعينه الرغبات بل موازين القوى، التي يجب على كل ثوري العمل لبنائها بطريقة تجعل نتائج الحوار لصالحه، فيكون رفض الحوار خيانة للثورة، وقبوله خدمة حقيقية لها، على عكس ما يظن بعض الجهلة بأبسط أوليات السياسة. بدلاً من العمل لخلق ميزان قوى كهذا، يضيع ثوار آخر زمن وقتهم في تخوين من يدعو إلى حوار يسهم في بناء ميزان قوى في صالح الشعب، لاعتقادهم أن لا دور لأي حوار في بنائه، وأنه سيكون في جميع أحواله لصالح الخصم، الذي يرفضه مثلهم في الحالة السورية الراهنة، لكنه يستخدمه كورقة يشق بواسطتها الحراك الشعبي، لإيمانه أنه سيجد في ثوار آخر زمن من يعينه على بلوغ هدفه، بقسم البشر إلى مؤيدين للحوار فهم خونة، ورافضين له فهم ثوار، مع أن الواقع كثيراً ما قال عكس ذلك تماماً، وأكد أن التخلي عن مبدأ الحوار قد يعادل في ظروف معينة التخلي عن ورقة السياسة، التي لا تنتصر ثورة إن تخلت عنها. أما الديموقراطي، فهو مع الحوار كمبدأ، لكنه لا يرى منفصلاً عن حاضنته العامة، ويقومه انطلاقاً من فاعليته وجدواه وما يمكن أن يقدمه من خدمة للنضال الشعبي.

(9) يقول ميشيل كيلو في المقابلة المذكورة "أعتقد أن هذا الحراك الشعبي الهائل في سوريا ليس له تعبير سياسي حقيقي...التعبيرات السياسية الحاضرة عن المعارضة هي في جزء منها تعبيرات نشأت في الماضي واشتغلت في الماضي ولاتزال تعيش في الماضي في أساليب عملها و طرقات تفكيرها...غير هذه التعبيرات أربك الحراك السوري إلى درجة الانهاك...بدل أن يمثله ويدافع عنه وأن يأخذه الى سكة السلامة أدخله في متاهات لها أوّل و ليس لها آخر.المجلس الوطني السوري قال إنه يعبر عن الحراك والثورة. أنا لا أعترف له بهذه الصفة ".

(10) نشرت جريدة "السفير" في 24 كانون الاول 2011، وبشكل حصري " محضر لقاء كلينتون بالمجلس الوطني" وهو مثير جداً للاهتمام، حيث قالت هيلاري كلينتون لبرهان غليون و بسمة القضماني إنّ" ‪ ‬الولايات المتحدة الأميركية تؤكد لكم أنها تتعاون مع بقية الدبلوماسيات العربية والدولية وتبذل قصارى جهدها وسط التعنت الروسي والصيني وأعود وأؤكد هنا على ضرورة أن يلعب العرب الدور الرئيسي في أي عمل مستقبلي يهدف إلى حماية المدنيين وندرك ان الولايات المتحدة عليها مسؤوليات ولكن مــسؤوليات مشتركة مع بقية الدول، والمجموعة العربية بشكل أساسي‪.‬". أما قلّة الكرامة التي تبديها بعض أركان المعارضة السورية، عكس الشعب السوري الجبّار الذي يقاتل من أجل الكرامة، فيتلخص باستجداء خطاب الإمبريالية الانسانوي و الإجادة في خطابها حيث قالت بسمة قضماني لكلينتون في نهاية الاجتماع "نحن نقدّر كل ما تقوم به الولايات المتحدة من جهود ونحن متأكدون تماماً أن المستقبل يحمل لنا علاقات مميزة بين الشعبين وأريد أن أطلب منك كامرأة سورية تخاطب امرأة تشعر بمعاناة الآلاف من النساء في سوريا ممن يغتصبن يومياً أننا لا ننتظر الكثير من مجلس الامن بقدر ما ننتظر من الولايات المتحدة راعية الحرية وحامية الحقوق في العالم‪.‬" نتساءل هنا لأي درجة يمكن أن نبرر تسوّل شفقة الولايات المتحدة؟
أما إصدارات "مجلس العلاقات الخارجية" وهو عادة معبّر جداً عن الآراء المعروضة في الادارة الاميركية فمعظم كتّابه، ما عدا المحافظين الجدد منهم مثل اليوت ابراهامز، يجمعون على عدم وجود نية تدخل عسكري في سوريا.

(11) نشير هنا الى البدء بانتاج خطاب "وجود القاعدة في سوريا" و تسرّب الارهابيين اليها من قبل أبواق الولايات المتحدة بشكل مفاجىء بعد ظهور الظواهري على "الجزيرة"، رغم أن الأخير كان قد ظهر خلال كل الثورات العربية المختلفة لكنّ الإدارات السياسية للغرب وإعلامها لم تعلّق حينها بشيء على الأمر لا بل نفت تهمة الإرهاب. يبدو أن الثورة السورية وحدها خصصت بهذا "الشرف الإمبراطوري" المستجد وأحدث مثال على ذلك هو افتتاحية في النيويورك تايمز حول أعضاء من القاعدة في العراق في سوريا وافتتاحية  طويلة بعد ثلاثة أيام في الجريدة نفسها عن القاعدة و متطرفين إسلاميين في سوريا، ثم ما لبثت أن انتشرت آلاف المقالات التي تتكلم عن ذلك استناداً إلى وجود "مصادر" مجهولة. يبدو أن ذلك جزء من عملية جارية اليوم للتضليل الإعلامي والعمليات الحربية النفسية ضد الثورة السورية من قبل الولايات المتحدة.

(12) ينفي السفير الأميركي روبرت فورد في سوريا في أوّل مقابلة له أية نية لتدخل عسكري ويدعو" لوقف العنف في سوريا" ويذكر "كثرة وجود العصابات المسلحة"! لكنّه يبدو أنه مع المشروع السعودي الأخير في مجلس الأمن و الذي تحوّل الى قرارا للجامعة العربية يستمر مسلسل الانتاج المقصود  لقرارات سياسية من قبل المجموعة الخليجية –التي تلعب دور الحاضن السياسي العربي وتحدد للمعارضة السياسية برنامجها السياسي- ستفشّلها روسيا حتماً في مجلس الأمن كجزء من عملية إستمالة الجمهور السوري ضد الروس من جهة، من دون أية نية لانتاج حلّ سياسي- وذلك باسم انتاج حلّ سياسي!- و بذلك يستمّر قمع النظام من دون أيّ رادع.

(13) نختلف هنا مع المعارض ميشيل كيلو والاكثرية السائدة من المعارضين السوريين وغيرهم ممن يعتقد بوجود حقيقي لإمكانية للتدخل العسكري في سوريا.
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(‬ ‫14)  لقد نفت قيادة "الناتو" وبشكل متكرّر أي نية أو ‬خطط لتدخل عسكري‬ في سوريا طوال الأشهر السابقة. كما أن الناطقة في بروكسل باسم الحلف الأطلسي قالت ‫إنه "حتى اليوم ليس هناك كلام بالمرة عن دور للناتو بما يتعلق بسوريا. تركيا وهي عضو في حلف "الناتو" قد تلعب دوراً محورياً وهي تعمل مع الولايات المتحدة من أجل انشاء منطقة عازلة من أجل حماية المدنيين." حتى الآن ليس هناك من منطقة عازلة لحماية المدنيين. أما مؤخرأ، فإن الناتو أعلن أنه سيبقى خارج سوريا حتى لو كان هناك تفويض من ‬الامم المتحدة! الواضح أنه ليس هناك من أساس للافتراض أنه هناك أي نية أو احتمال.‬

The Syrian revolution undeniably belongs to the street. It’s rooted in the public realm where masses of physical bodies occupy the squares and real voices fill the air with defiance against the brutality of a relentless regime. The virtual realm of the revolution is a strong, second line of defense. Communities of online activists in Syria tirelessly spread the voices and events from the street as far and wide as possible, while the activists outside Syria continue the ripple effect, transferring what is happening inside Syria across the world.

Supporters of the regime like to demeaningly describe the Syrian revolution as iftiraadiyyeh, hypothetical, “a virtual revolution,” fueled by outside forces far from Syrian streets (thus, Syrian interests). They mark the protesters as traitors falling prey to a “universal conspiracy” against Syria’s sovereignty. These accusations start with the head of the regime himself, Bashar al-Assad, as he declared in his last speech: “At the beginning of the crisis, it was not easy to explain what happened. Emotional reactions and the absence of rationality were surpassing the facts. But now, the fog has lifted, and it is no longer possible for the regional and international parties which wanted to destabilize Syria to forge the facts and the events. Now the masks have fallen off the faces of those parties, and we have become more capable of deconstructing the virtual environment which they have created to push Syrians towards illusion and then make them fall. That virtual environment was created to lead to a psychological and moral defeat which would eventually lead to the actual defeat.”

During the early months of the uprising, the president called dissidents “conspiracies” and protesters “armed gangs.” In his last speech he claimed if real protesters really existed, he would have joined them, “This is not a revolution. Can a revolutionary work for the enemy – a revolutionary and a traitor at the same time? This is impossible. Can revolutionaries be without honor, moral values or religious principles? Had we had real revolutionaries, in the sense we know, you and I and the whole people would have moved with them. This is a fact.”

These sentiments have been repeated by people inside Syria and out, Syrians and not, who consider the thousands of “unable to verify” videos documenting Assad’s atrocities as mfabrakeh, fabricated. They say the clips exaggerate the number of people actually protesting, while the pro-regime demonstrations are deceptively reduced or not declared as massive as they really were, or not covered at all by the biased Arab and international media. The YouTube clips are described as “pictures” by some journalists like Robert Fisk and Patrick Cockburn. “Pictures,” a carefully chosen, archaic term that alludes slyly to the reel not the real; directed, acted, cinematic. Were they not real even when these videos were made in front of the Arab League monitors? Were they not real even when filmed by independent journalists who have finally entered Syria (albeit on extremely short visas and even shorter government-controlled leashes)?

Recently, debates have been occupied trying to understand the nature of the Free Syrian Army (FSA). Does this army exist or is the FSA “a fax machine in Turkey”? Maybe the pundits have not seen the wide-spread protests on the Fridays christened, “We support the Free Syrian Army”, and “The Free Syrian Army Protects Us.” Rania Abuzaid’s excellent report explains the nuanced composition of the FSA. While it is true the FSA is separated into various groups defending different parts of the country and lacks a traditional central command, the thousands of men who fight and die every day in its name make it very real.

The president explains these discrepancies in reports emerging from Syria, “However, all the media fabrications, and the whole political and media campaign against Syria, were built on that phase of forging and distortion; and there is a difference between distorting the truth then giving it credibility as being presented from the inside of Syria, on the one hand, and distorting the truth from the outside of Syria where less credibility tends to be given to such misrepresentation. That is why we took a decision not to close the door to all media networks, but to be selective in the access given to them in order to control the quality of the information or the falsification which goes beyond the borders.” So the regime decided to be selective about who was allowed access to Syria, to combat the masses’ fabrications and control the message. Is that the definition of propaganda?

One of those “selective” moments is the now infamous Barbara Walters’ interview. Assad was apparently shocked at how poorly he was portrayed in the interview, declaring the fabrication so convincing, he almost believed it himself. But recently, while activists combed through the hacked email accounts of government officials, they uncovered an email by Syrian ambassador to the United Nations, Bashar Jaafari’s daughter, Sheherazad. She prepped the president for the interview by studying, in her mind, the typical American viewer, “It is hugely important and worth mentioning that ‘mistakes’ have been done in the beginning of the crisis because we did not have a well-organized ‘police force.’ The American psyche can be easily manipulated when they hear that there are ‘mistakes’ done and now we are ‘fixing it.’” (Her “quotes.”) Staging and gaging for American likability, American sentiments, and American sympathy. Later, in his speech to supporters, Assad spins the unflattering interview into an American media conspiracy.

The president, joined by his small but growing public relations army of Arab and Western journalists/supporters and backed by “most Syrians” according to Jonathan Steele, would like you to believe the following scenario: In Syria, a minuscule number of mythical (yet sectarian/extremist/Salafi/violent) protesters repeat make-believe chants supporting (and protected by) a fictional army, while being filmed by faux cameras, made into fabricated films, to be tweeted by virtual activists, and watched by millions of fake people on their conspiratorial Arabic satellite channels and consumed by a biased Western media engaged in the “propaganda” war, in order to cover the “real” Syrian crisis in, as Cockburn says, “a fog of disinformation pumped through the internet.”

And why should the world believe Assad’s scenario over the people’s reality? Because, according to the Syrian regime, the country faces a universal conspiracy designed to validate foreign intervention which will destabilize the region, strengthen Israel, weaken Iran, declare Qatar a regional superpower, and push Syria into a civil war fueled by “inherent” sectarianism that the Assad regime has protected its citizens from for the past forty-two years.

For some, the “conspiracy” also threatens to kill what is called the last vestige of Arab “resistance.” Resistance against what? Most Syrians would say the Assad regime has never resisted anything but the Syrian people’s aspirations. (But most Syrians never understood or appreciated their country’s all-important “regional” political role. They were too busy enduring Assad & son’s domestic policies.) The Syrians on the street (the ones who matter) even chant: “Ya Bashar, you coward, go send your troops to the Golan.” No one in Syria or the Golan is holding their breath. Some people will disagree with blindly disregarding the Assad regime’s regional and international accomplishments, as a result of its historic stances of resistance. Those people should ask the families of the over 7,000 murdered Syrians if their loved ones’ deaths were worth this so-called resistance. They should ask Palestinians as well (also the ones who matter): What has the Syrian regime done for you lately? (“Lately,” is loosely defined here, but let us just say in the last fifty years.) They would probably answer: a lot; of damage. Critic Subhi Hadidi lists some of the damage, “As for the Palestinians, well, the regime did quite the opposite: It sided against the Palestinians, as well as the 'national movement’ led by Kamal Jumblatt in the Lebanese civil war; it was involved in the 1976 Tal al-Zaater siege and massacre . . . it participated in the 1983 siege and shelling of Palestinian camps in Tripoli, Lebanon.” Poet and former political prisoner Faraj Bayraqdar says those who still defend the regime’s self-declared role of resistance, “are inflicted with ideological blindness.” He adds, “Those people don’t know the difference between resistance and desisting, between rhetoric and reality.”

The regime uses this mix of recycled ideological propaganda and media manipulations to confront the mass accumulation of evidence of their atrocities that have spread across the world. The regime continues to insist it’s fighting armed gangs while using real weapons pouring in from Russia on real ships to kill unarmed civilians and defected soldiers. After months of skeptics asking, “Just who are these ‘armed gangs’?”, Foreign Minister Walid Muallem ended a press conference in November with clips of the “armed gangs” in action. It was later discovered that those clips were filmed in Lebanon in 2010. In other words, mfabrakeh. When he was confronted in December, Muallem defended himself (beginning at minute 57:00) saying the clips were “correct in all their content, but they weren’t directed in a good way, only.” Directed? Like “pictures”? How real of him. He added, “If we wanted to expose the truth, the ugly images of what the terrorist groups are doing, I believe many of you will faint.” (Thank you, Walid Muallem for sparing us the truth.) When the mysterious yet conveniently-timed explosion rocked the Midan area in Damascus last month, state television channel, SANA, was on location ready to broadcast live coverage of the “surprise” bombing. They were so efficient that they captured on film, a man holding a Syrian TV mic planting white plastic bags near the pools of blood. Even the presenter was shocked into silence as she narrated the scene. Another case of bad direction. They should have called Jaafari Jr. to handle it.

Patrick Cockburn accuses the revolutionary forces of “engaging in black propaganda,” constructing a “fake” revolution using the regime’s tools of manipulation, while the old-school regime has become incompetent and sloppy. Assad has an explanation for those “mistakes” (in a 15,000 word speech, you can expect to find an explanation for anything): “In our quest to dismantle that virtual environment and to ensure the importance of the internal situation in confronting any external interference, we took the initiative to talk transparently on having a default here and a defect or delay there in some areas.” Maybe it’s a case of the students becoming more masterful than the master. Or maybe, it’s a case of one side being real and the other finally exposed as fake.

Syrian supporters of the regime know very well what it feels like to play pretend. It’s apparent in the new, popular chant, “We will be your shabbiha forever, ya Assad.” For decades, Syrians chanted “We sacrifice our souls and our blood for you, ya Assad.” I never thought I would feel nostalgic for that chant, but I am. As insincere it as it was, it meant that we were willing to sacrifice what we were, as we were, our souls and blood, for the leader. This new chant viciously takes subserviency to another level. It expresses the willingness of the people to become something criminal—the despised, ruthless thugs for the regime. To become something they are not.

Between treacherous chants and pseudonymous identities, Syria has become a web of deception, woven by necessity by both sides for protection against the entrenched regime. But Syrians have been unaccounted for as individuals for decades. Long ago, our features were erased in a sea of empty faces that mirrored only one face. We became a pixilated canvas that created a collage of the leader’s image. Our voices formed one unified mouth only capable of expressing (fake) declarations of love and devotion. We never really mattered to the regime, and so, we forgot to matter to ourselves. Today, the Syrian people not only fight every day for their survival, but to prove that they matter. They resist to prove they exist.

In a recent article by Robert Fisk, he referred to Syria as a symbol. For decades, Syria indeed was reduced to a symbol, sometimes of Arab unity, other times of confrontational and heroic resistance. Hafez al-Assad represented revolution, as we used to chant during mandatory demonstrations, “Hafez. Assad. Symbol of the Arab revolution.” For the last eleven months, the regime has proved everyday that they are far from being a symbol of revolution. Or a symbol of unity, or Arabism, or anti-imperialism, or even resistance. They have been an emblem of nothing but tyranny and oppression.

To conceal the reality of what they really are, the Assad regime fabricates every kind of conspiracy possible: political conspiracy, media conspiracy, military conspiracy, an Arab conspiracy, a Western conspiracy, an imperialist conspiracy, an economic conspiracy, a sectarian conspiracy. And according to Jaafari Sr., Syria now faces a Google conspiracy. Every conspiracy is legitimate except the one conspiracy the Syrian people have endured for four decades: the illegitimate rule of the Assad dynasty. The regime would rather erase every citizen’s existence than admit they are the universal conspiracy that plagues Syria.

For such a virtual, hypothetical, fictitious, mythical, conspiracy-based revolution, its heavy weight is tangible with real blood, real corpses, real tears, real intimidation, real scars of real torture dug into real flesh.

The Syrian people, like their revolution, are not hypothetical, mythical, or fictitious, they are real. They are not a symbol of revolution, they are revolution. But as Elias Khoury says, "In their struggle and in their resistance, waging their orphan revolution, the Syrian people are alone." And it is wearing them out. 

[This article will be reposted shortly. Sorry for the inconvenience]

A year has passed since Arab youth took to the streets demanding freedom and dignity, unleashing a long-awaited revolution. As authoritarian regimes fell in Tunisia and Libya, were shaken in Egypt, and are struggling fiercely in Yemen and Syria, I went searching for the Arab Spring in Ramallah, looking for the reverberations of the Arab uprisings on Palestine. Euphoria as much as apprehension accompanied me as I looked for the promise of a revolution devoid of any grand ideology, a revolution about freedom and rights, inclusive of everybody—Christians and Muslims, Islamists and liberals, young and old—if only for a short while.

On 15 March 2011, just over a month after mass demonstrations in Cairo brought down Husni Mubarak and peaceful protestors in Bahrain were being violently dispersed, thousands of Palestinians took to the streets in Ramallah and Gaza City. El Herak El Shababi, a loose group of young activists formed in November 2010, joined forces with a number of progressive political parties and various nongovernmental organizations (NGOs) to demand the end of the political schism between Fatah and Hamas. The March 15 Movement that emerged then sought to build on the weekly sit-ins at Al Manara, Ramallah’s central square, that El Herak had been organizing since February to demand an end to Palestinian division. Fatah and Hamas watched as the young protesters camped in the street of Ramallah, Nablus and Bethlehem, making sure that the police encircled them and did not let them move too far. The youth did not seem much bothered by the attempt of the Palestinian Authority (PA) to intimidate, divide or co-opt them. They were decentralized and computer savvy enough not to be unduly deflected from their goals: to reassert Palestinian rights and bring down the Oslo regime.

Already in early March, the “Third Palestinian Intifada” Facebook page was set up calling for demonstrations to commemorate the 63^rd anniversary of the Nakba. El Herak did not know much about the group that set up that webpage, but it did not oppose their message. Through the Palestinian Youth Network and other Facebook pages, young people in Ramallah and Gaza were communicating with youthful compatriots in Burj Al-Barajneh and Ein al-Hilwa in Lebanon, in Yarmouk and Damascus in Syria, El-Wahdat and Zarqa in Jordan, in Chicago and San Francisco, as well as Haifa and Sakhneen. Their message was simple: to reiterate and protect the Palestinian right of return. And their plan was daring: to organize a peaceful march into their homeland on 15 May 15^th, the anniversary of the Nakba, to reiterate their internationally recognized right. Within less than two weeks nearly 250,000 subscribers joined the webpage. Israel felt concerned enough to demand that Facebook close down the page, claiming it “was inciting violence and hatred”. Facebook complied. Palestinians saw this as a testament to the power of their message.

The 15 May March went ahead, to the surprise of many - the youth included. The 15 March Movement disintegrated as soon as Fatah and Hamas signed their first reconciliation agreement in Cairo on 4 May 2011. Members of El Herak El Shababi (The Youth Movement) left the group, while others debated how to move forward and build on the non-violent resistance movements that have taken ground in the West Bank since the second Intifada through Popular Committees against the Wall in Ni’lin and Beil’in, the Boycott National Committee and the Stop The Apartheid Wall Campaign, among others. Many from El Herak mounted on buses organized by the Stop The Wall Campaign that took descendants of refugees to demonstrate at the Qalandia checkpoint and the Erez crossing in Gaza.

Their compatriots in Syria and Lebanon were meanwhile marching towards the borders with the Israeli-occupied Golan Heights. Some managed to cross from Syria into Majdal Shams; thirteen were killed by Israeli soldiers, and one managed to hitchhike all the way to Jaffa, his grandfather’s home town. Another group, the 6 June Movement, emerged soon after calling for peaceful demonstrations to commemorate the Naksa, the 1967 War. The protestors, mostly independent members of leftist parties, NGO, and youthful cadres, marched again towards Qalandia. But this time they were met with more violence and less media coverage. I wondered if the youth were seeking to revert politics to mass mobilization, as during the first Intifada, and if so at what cost to the PA? Can they force the Palestinian leadership to rethink its strategy if not the statehood project in its entirety? Can Palestinian rights be affirmed and protected without a state, outside the two state solution paradigm? And if so how?

I arrived in Ramallah in mid-June to participate in a conference jointly organized by Muwatin, the Ramallah-based Palestinian Institute for the Study of Democracy, and El Herak El Shababi, on the question of the Palestinian bid for United Nations (UN) membership, officially announced by the PA in April 2010. I was actually surprised that so much attention was being given to this topic. It seemed at odds with the spirit of the Arab Spring that is reinventing the meaning of national liberation away from an obsession with statehood and towards the fulfillment of basic rights. But when I arrived in the West Bank I could not find much excitement about the Arab Spring, the reconciliation between Fatah and Hamas that Palestinian youth activism helped bring about or the prospects of a UN seat for the Palestinian state.

When I went to Birzeit University for some meetings, I could find no slogans on the wall promoting the UN bid or calling for the fall of the Oslo regime. The students I talked to seemed rather more concerned about their future, what work they will find once they graduate. Although Ramallah was buzzing with public works as the PA moved on to implement Prime Minister Salam Fayyad’s Palestinian Reform and Development Plan, many complained that jobs were scarce outside the construction sector and the security apparatus that had been expanding in accordance with an American agenda. When asked about the Arab Spring, some students were eager to point out that the Palestinians had been there long before the others. “Our first Intifada (1987–1993) with its nonviolent strategy of resistance is what the Arab youth are emulating today”, one of them said.

Mujid, who graduated in business administration two years ago is now working as a car dealer between Nablus and Jenin. He is busy making money and did not want to talk about politics. “Nablus is finally peaceful now that Hamas has gone underground and Israel has eased some of the restrictions on movement. Going to the UN will not end the occupation nor terminate Palestinian fragmentation. It is just a ploy to save the PA and earn it money and time”. Alia, sitting beside him, agreed, but she disapproved of his political disengagement. “We are still living under occupation and must fight it”, she said as she distributed leaflets calling for the boycott of Israeli products, prepared by the local Boycotts, Divestment, and Sanctions (BDS) campus committee.

I went to the Muwatin conference not knowing what to expect. As a taxi drove me through increasingly clogged Ramallah roads made worse by an unprecedented number of SUVs, I noticed the new “Muqata’a”: the PA’s West Bank headquarters. It was totally transformed from just 6 months ago: a grand new entrance; a small esplanade for the anticipated diplomatic cars bringing dignitaries to greet the president; and a small, newly constructed area planted with grass and some old olive trees, with a fountain in its midst despite the water shortage Israel has imposed on the West Bank. I asked the driver what he thought of all these new renovations. “A waste of donors’ money”, he said. “A futile way for the PA to say that the UN bid is real. But it is in vain; Hamas and Fatah will not reconcile and Israel will not give us back an inch of our land”.

I thought of Salwa, a 35-year old activist of the First Intifada who is now working with a youth organization in Hebron. She was worried that the Arab Spring could put the Palestinian cause on the back burner of Arab politics, since Arab states were too busy with their internal affairs and Palestinians with their divisions. She had not participated in either the 15 March Movement or 15 May March. Neither had her brother who was now living in Bethlehem, working illegally in Gilo settlement, the only job he could find. “What is the point of demonstrating against an 8 feet tall wall?” he said to me when I last saw him. “There is no political leadership to adopt our sacrifices and “cash” them for real liberation. Only the desperate and the rich young kids, who want to feel that they are doing something for the Palestinian cause, demonstrate these days.”

I arrived at the Friends’ School in Ramallah where the conference was taking place, and was directed to the newly constructed, but still leaking, gymnasium. I smiled at the symbolism it evoked; the youth of Palestine, the role of the United States, the acrobats needed to muscle this UN bid through. The hall was full with the familiar faces of well-known academics and analysts, but it was also packed with many young new faces I had never seen before. Ladies in jilbab and in tight jeans, young men with hippie hair and others with beards. I even heard a few Hebrew words intermixed with northern Palestinian accents, signaling that Palestinians from inside Israel, a group you do no often see in Ramallah, were among the crowd. I was told that the youth coalition that coordinated the conference organized the transportation of buses from Tubas and Hebron, Jerusalem and Jericho, El Taybeh and Nazareth to ensure that youth representatives from all cities of Palestine could attend. Gaza was unfortunately not present, but the place was full with activists—old and new, students, trade unionists, and civil servants who do not often get a chance to visit the undeclared capital of Sulta-stan, as Ramallah is unofficially called.

Many of the critical questions were posed about the UN bid. “What will happen to Palestinian rights, the right of return, if we go to the UN?” asked a bearded man. “What about us Palestinian inside '48”, said a young lady, “shouldn’t the PA consult us?” “Isn’t it time to abandon the two- state solution after these maps you presented?”, asked an angry man. “Isn’t it time to dismantle the PA and return to the Palestinian fundamental rights?” shouted a few. “Shouldn’t the Palestine Liberation organization (PLO) be revived and new elections called for?”, asked a lady in jilbab. The PA officials attending the conference were uncomfortable, and many of the questions went unanswered, but it did not matter. It was sign of changing times that these were being posed in such openness and by such youthful new faces.

At lunchtime, I sat with a group of young people who came from the Jenin area. They said they liked the discussion, adding that everyone up north is fed up with Fatah and Hamas, but people still want jobs with the PA. These are the most secure in these times of high unemployment. On another table, I could hear some girls with a Hebronite accent ask how they can get involved with El Herak El Shababi for future events in their cities. Not far from me I could hear the trade unionist, who has asked a question earlier, in heated debate about the need to reform Fatah and return to armed struggle. The group of young people sitting at his table disagreed. One of them said that the only way to reassert Palestinian rights is through international law and non-violent resistance. There is no point engaging with Hamas or Fatah, said another, it is a waste of time. What is important is reconciliation and new elections for the Palestinian National Council (PNC), not simply the PA. “Like with the Arab Spring”, added a young man from Jerusalem. “We must take our destiny in our own hands and liberate ourselves from the defeatist Oslo narrative the PA is still attached to as much as from the occupation.”

As the day ended, I wondered whether Palestinian youth were trying to reshape Palestinian politics or just venting their frustration at the sense of defeat they feel around them. After hearing them at the conference, I was left with a sense of their empowerment and determination to affirm the unity of the Palestinian people that Oslo fragmented. They are asserting that the Palestinian struggle is one of rights not statehood per se; the right of return, the right to equal political rights, the right to be free, not under siege or occupation. The PA leadership seemed to have heard them. Mahmoud Abbas’s UN speech made reference to the youth, even as it tried to coopt and redefine their message. “At a time when the Arab peoples affirm their quest for democracy— the Arab Spring—the time is now for the Palestinian Spring, the time for independence”, he reiterated. Most of the youth did not agree with Abbas’ strategy, or with his obsession with statehood, as one young man put it. As far as the youth are concerned, Palestinians are fighting for their internationally-recognized rights, not a bantustan in the West Bank.

I returned to Ramallah in January 2012 to see how far things have moved. Fatah and Hamas had signed yet another reconciliation agreement in Cairo in December 2011. Hamas had attended a meeting of the Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO) Executive Committee, a first step towards its integration into the PLO—a long overdue demand by most Palestinians. I met with Ali and some of his friends, all members of El Herak Al Shababi at one point or another. They are in their 20s or 30s, had studied in various local universities and were abroad at some point to undertake a Master’s degree or a doctorate. I asked Ali what he and his friends, some of whom live inside Israel, have been up to.

In November 2011 a group of them had left El Herak and organized the Freedom Riders’ March towards Jerusalem, a campaign to board Israeli buses in the settlements to reclaim Palestinian right to the Holy city. The march received some international coverage but Ali did not seem to approve of it. “Why should we always emulate the Western model of peaceful resistance, and thus risk acknowledging the illegal settlements?”, he asked. “We are under occupation and we need to construct our own model of resistance without worrying what the PA or the West has to say.” He made sure to add though that he still respected his friends’ action: “Among the most important characteristic of our work, us the youth, is our acceptance of our diversity of opinions,” he explained. “We want to maintain an open forum for discussion and disagreement so long as we agree on common, non-negotiable Palestinian principles.”

When I asked what these principles were, Lena, Ali’s friend from Tulkarem, was quick to specify that they do not mean a Palestinian state on 22 percent of historic Palestine. “The two-state solution is dead”, she said, “and with it all attempts to normalize or negotiate with Israelis.” “But this does not mean we want a one-state solution either,” clarified Tarek. “ It is still too early for that and it is far from clear what is meant by a one-state solution, and on whose terms. Our struggle now is for democracy and asserting our national rights”. Huda, his friend from Haifa, did not seem to disagree. In December and January El Herak and other youth groups, such as Falastiniyyun Min Ajl al-Karameh (Palestinians for Dignity) demonstrated against Palestinian and Israeli youth meeting in Jerusalem and Ramallah to promote the Geneva Initiative that advocates a two-state solution. A similar meeting scheduled in January in Haifa was as a result cancelled.

I turned to Yasmin and asked her what she thinks young activists in Palestine want today. “We want to affirm our role in shaping our present and future,” she said. “The Arab Spring has taught us that we can break the barrier of fear and assert our role in the public sphere. We want to hold the Palestinian leadership accountable so that it defends our political rights, and does not trade them for false promises”. “Our aim”, she continued, “is to mobilize society and get the Palestinians to be politically engaged as they were during the first Intifada”. When I asked her how she and her friends plan to attain their objectives, she outlined a three-tiered strategy.

The first pillar is organizational; it seeks to create a structure, however loose, for the work of El Herak and other youthful associations. El Herak’s members already hold weekly meetings, produce monthly statements, and reach out to new youth groups in different cities and villages outside Ramallah. “But we do not need to become a fixed body, a political party or an NGO”, interjected Ali. “We need to remain a loose group, in order to remain in touch with our society and avoid any future power struggles”.

The second pillar is political; it focuses on defining a strategy of resistance that mobilizes the Palestinian street. It is one that builds on the popular non-violent resistance that has been taking place over the years in the West Bank and is open to engaging different political parties and forces in the country. Many from the Herak go to Nabi Saleh and Bil’in to participate in weekly demonstrations against the Wall. On 15 January 2012 Filastiniyyun Min Ajl al-Karameh (Palestinians for Dignity) and El Herak called for demonstrations at the Muqata’a against the resumption of Israeli-Palestinian negotiations in Amman. Only a few people came. On 21 January, those standing in front of the Muqata’a swelled to a couple of hundred. On 26 January, El Herak called for another demonstration, this time against the PA’s decision to increase income taxes and the rise in food prices. It joined forces with trade unions and other political parties who together made the Fayyad government suspend its austerity plans. Yasmin and her friends are presently collecting all the old leaflets issued by the Unified General Command of the First Intifada in the late 1980s to see what they can learn from them for their future activities.

The third pillar of the present youth activism is a campaign to revive the PNC that the Oslo regime has marginalized. El Herak was the first youth group in the West Bank to openly call for new PNC elections, joining various activists groups in the Diaspora and the Occupied Territories who have been working on the details of such a campaign. “We need to have a Palestinian-wide discussion, not one confined to the West Bank, over what our national strategic plan of resistance is and how to rebuild our national movement”, said Lena. “We, the youth, must be part of the national conversation, because we represent over 60% of the Palestinian population”.

I left Ali, Yasmeen and their friends to join my cousin and her son of 25 who just started working in the police force. Her husband was imprisoned by the Israeli army in the 1980s and her second son used to be a Fatah cadre. As we drove in her car, I asked my relatives if they had heard of El Herak el Shababi. My cousin did not seem to know what I was talking about. Her son explained that those were the young people who stood by Al-Manarah sometimes and meet at the old Ottoman Court House in central Ramallah. Her other son said that Fatah has been watching them. “I wish them luck”, she said, “I suppose each one of us tries his best to stay steadfast.” As the car raced out of Ramallah and through the undulated olive hills outside the city, I could not help think that although the revolution is yet to come, its seeds are already being planted.

His untimely death silences one of the best Middle East reporters. 

We at the Middle East Institute at the National University of Singapore, along with the global Middle East Studies community, mourn the loss of the brilliant, gifted Anthony Shadid, whose reporting of the Middle East over the past two decades enlightened all of us. 

Perhaps he was not well known in Southeast Asia, except for readers of The New York Times, the Washington Post, and Boston Globe. But Shadid was a “must” for anybody seriously following the often bloody events in our region. The Middle East is a dangerous beat for journalists. Anthony, quietly fearless, braved the chaos of Iraq, suffered a gunshot wound in the West Bank, and almost lost his life having been kidnapped in Libya. He was operating under cover in Syria, risking his life,  when—ironically—he died of an acute asthma attack.

Academics sometimes disparage “mere journalists” who allegedly only scratch the surface of Middle Eastern complexities and convey more stereotypes than sound analysis. (We should be careful of such generalizations.) Anthony Shadid was no mere journalist. He brought a breadth of understanding and a gift for uncovering the deeper significance of the daily events he was covering that earned him the respect and admiration of the best scholars in our field. He belongs in that very small group of Western journalists whose analysis of the Middle East stands so far above the average: one thinks of Eric Rouleau of Le Monde, David Hirst of The Guardian, Robert Fisk of The Independent, John Cooley of The Christian Science Monitor and a younger generation of reporters like Nir Rosen, who writes for The Nation, not to mention writers for Middle Eastern papers like Ha’aretz, Al-Nahar, Al-Masry Al-Yaum, and others.

It was heartening that his brilliance was recognized and celebrated: he won two Pulitzer prizes, among other honors, and had been nominated by The Times for a third Pulitzer in 2012 for his coverage of the Arab uprisings.

I came to know Anthony when we invited him to speak at Georgetown a couple of years ago. We had a common interest and many common friends in Lebanon: his forebears had come from Merjayoun in south Lebanon and were distantly related to the family of my late wife. We were to have met again last June in Lebanon but he was called away to Ankara, where he was looking in to Turkey’s rift with Bashar al-Asad’s regime in Damascus—an issue that we was continuing to follow at the time of his death on February 16^th. We were planning to invite him to Singapore this year.

Fluent in Arabic, comfortable in Middle Eastern society, admiring of its heritage and contemporary culture, Anthony Shadid was not only a keenly observant reporter; he also conveyed that indispensable but elusive ingredient: context.

The world watches as tragedy unfolds beneath its gaze as Khader Asnan enters his sixty-third day as a hunger striker in an Israeli prison being held under an administrative detention order without trial, without charges, and without any indication of the evidence against him. From the outset of his brutal arrest by scores of soldiers, featuring blindfolding, cuffing, and physical roughness in the middle of the night, a gratuitous ritual enacted in the presence of his wife and young daughters, Khader Adnan has been subject to the sort of inhumane and degrading treatment that is totally unlawful and inexcusable, and an assault on our moral justification. At present, approximately three hundred other Palestinians are being held in administrative detention, and Mr. Adnan has indicated that his protest is also on their behalf, and indeed against the practice of administrative detention itself.

The only plausible explanation of such Israeli behavior is to intimidate by terrifying all Palestinians who have lived for almost forty-five years under the yoke of an oppressive occupation that continuously whittles away at Palestinian rights under international humanitarian law, especially their right to self-determination, which is encroached upon every time a new housing unit is added to the colonizing settlements that dot the hilltops surrounding Jerusalem and throughout the West Bank. While Palestinian prospects of a viable political future are continuously diminished by Israeli expansionism the world politely watches in stunned silence. Only resistance from within and solidarity worldwide can provide the Palestinians with hope about their future. They have been failed over and over again by the United Nations, by the European Union, by their Arab neighbors, and above all by that global leader beholden to Israel whose capital is in Washinton, D.C. It is only against this broader background that the importance of Khader Adnan’s resistance to the continuing struggle of Palestinians everywhere can begin to be appreciated as a political act as well as an insistence on the sacred dignity of the human person.

The case of Khader Adnan is a revealing microcosm of the unbearable cruelty of prolonged occupation, It also illuminates the contrast drawn in the West between the dignity of a single Israeli prisoner held in captivity and the steadfast refusal to be attentive to the abuse of thousands of Palestinians languishing in Israeli jails through court sentence or administrative order. Mr. Adnan’s father poignantly highlighted this contrast a few days ago by reference to Gilad Shalit, the Israeli soldier held by Hamas in captivity for several years and recently released in good health: “Where are the mother and father of Gilad Shalit? Do they not feel for me in this humanitarian case? Where are they?” The comparison pointedly suggests that it is Mr. Adnan who is the more deserving of such a global outpouring of concern: “My son was arrested from his house, from among his wife and children, was taken prisoner. He was not carrying any weapon. Whereas Shalit was fighting against the people of Gaza, and destroying their homes, and firing upon, and Shalit was released.”

In fact, Shalit has not been personally associated with violence against the Palestinians and their property, but he was operating as a member of the IDF that has been consistently engaged in such activity, frequently in stark violation of international humanitarian law. While Shalit was being held foreign authority figures, from the UN Secretary General on down, displayed their empathy not only for Shalit but for the intense anxiety experienced by Israelis concerned for the wellbeing of Shalit, but these same personalities are notably silent in the much more compelling ordeal taking place before our eyes in the form of Mr. Adnan’s captivity seemingly unto death. It should not be surprising that surviving family members of IRA hunger strikers have stepped forward to express solidarity with Mr. Adnan. They have also compared the Irish transforming acts of resistance in 1981 (ten hunger strikers died, and Britain shifted from counterterrorism to a politics of reconciliation) to that of the Palesinians, increasingly referring to Khader Adnan as the West Bank Bobby Sands.

And who is Khader Adnan? We do not know very much about him except that he is a member of the Islamic Jihad Party, a thirty-three-year old father of two young daughters, a baker by profession, and viewed with respect and affection by his neighbors. There are no accusations against him that implicate him in violence against civilians, although he has a history of imprisonment associated with his past activism. A fellow prisoner from an earlier period of confinement in Ashkelon Prison, Abu Maria, recalls Mr. Adnan’s normalcy, humanity, and academic demeanor while sharing a cell, emphasizing his passionate dedication to informing other imprisoned Palestinians about the history and nature of the conflict: “Prison was like a university in those times and he was one of the professors.” Commenting on his hunger strike that has brought him extreme pain, Abu Maria says he is convinced that Khader Asnan wants to live, but will not at the price of enduring humiliation for himself and others held in administrative detention: “He is showing his commitment and resistance in the only way he can right now, with his body.”

Addameer, the respected Palestinian nongovernmental organization (NGO) concerned with prisoner issues, “holds Israel accountable for the life of Khader Adnan, whose health has entered an alarmingly critical stage that will now have irreversible consequences and could lead to his fatal collapse at any moment.” Physicians who have observed his current condition conclude that, at most, Mr. Adnan could live a few more days, saying that such a hunger strike cannot be sustained beyond seventy days in any event. Any attempt at this stage to keep Mr. Adnan alive by forced feeding would be widely viewed as a violation of his right to life and is generally regarded as a type of torture.

Finally, the reliance by Israel on administrative detention in cases of this sort is totally unacceptable from the perspective of international law, including the Geneva Conventions, especially so with no disclosure of the exceptional circumstances or evidence that might warrant for reasons of imminent security the use of such an extra-legal form of imprisonment for a few days. Given the number of Palestinians being held in a manner similar to that of Mr. Adnan, it is no wonder that sympathy hunger strikes among many Palestinians in and out of Israeli jails are underway as expressions of solidarity. Have we not reached a stage in our appreciation of human rights that we should outlaw such barbarism by state authorities, which is cunningly shielded from critical scrutiny by the anonymity and bureaucratic neutrality of the term "administrative detention"? Let us hope and make sure that the awful experience of Khader Adnan does not end with his death, and let us hope and do everything in our power to encourage a worldwide protest against both administrative detention and prisoner abuse and by the government of Israel, and in due course elsewhere. The Palestinian people have suffered more than enough already, and passivity in the face of such state crimes is an appalling form of complicity. We should expect more from our governments, the United Nations, human rights NGOs, and ourselves! 

[This post originally appeared on Richard Falk's blog, Citizen Pilgrimage] 

نحوعمل تضامني دولي ينطلق في يوم الأسير الفلسطيني (17 نيسان/ أبريل)

" أؤكد على أن إضرابي عن الطعام، ليس من أجل قضيتي كفرد، إنما من أجل قضية أبناء شعبي، ومئات الأسرى الإداريين المحرومين من أبسط حقوقهم".

هكذا كتب الأسير خضر عدنان، في رسالة مناشدة أطلقها من على سرير مستشفى الرملة الإسرائيلي، في الحادي عشر من شباط/فبراير الجاري، وأضاف أنّ الجنود الإسرائيليين يسيئون معاملته، ويقيّدون أقدامه بالسلاسل الحديدية، ويشدّونها إلى قضبان السرير، وهو خائر القوى لا يقوى على الحِراك، في حين ينظر العالم إلى تدهور حالته الصحية، دون تحريك ساكن، كما قال. وتابع أن على المجتمع الدولي، والأمم المتحدة، الضغط على إسرائيل من أجل إلزامها باحترام حقوق الإنسان، والكف عن المعاملة اللاإنسانية للمعتقلين الفلسطينيين.

والآن مع انقضاء اليوم الـخامس والستين للإضراب المستمر للأسير عدنان عن الطعام، والذي ألهم أحرار العالم بمعاني الكفاح والصمود، وحرّك عجلة التضامن مع حقوق الفلسطينيين، فإنّنا كحقوقيين، مدعوون لرسم استراتيجية شاملة تؤسس لدعم دولي للنضال الفلسطيني من أجل نيلهم حقّهم بالحرية والعدالة والمساواة.

خضر عدنان يكافح اليوم من أجل الحقوق الأساسية التي حُرم منها آلاف المعتقلين الفلسطينيين، كالحدّ الأدنى من المحاكمات القانونية والعادلة، والمعاملة الإنسانية اللائقة، والتحرر من التعذيب وعشرات الممارسات العقابية الممنهجة ضدهم، والتي يظهر بأنها تُمارس على أساس من التمييز العرقي، حيث تظهر في تعامل السلطات الاسرائيلية القاسي مع الفلسطينيين فقط، دوناً عن الإسرائيليين، بما في ذلك المستوطنون الذين يقيمون بطريقة غير شرعية (وفق القانون الدولي) داخل أراضي الضفة الغربية.

وتُخضع إسرائيل المعتقلين الفلسطينيين من المناطق المحتلة في الضفة الغربية والقطاع  لسُلطة القضاء العسكري، مما يوفر غطاءً لاحتجازهم بصورة تعسفية وعقابية، ودون لائحة اتهام معلنة، مما يعني غيابًا كاملًا للإجراءات القانونية الواجبة وفق ما ينصّ عليه القانون الدولي، وتعني أيضًا اعتقالهم بناءً على "لائحة اتهام سرّية"، لا يُتاح للأسير أو لمحاميه معرفتها، أو الدفاع عن نفسه حيالها، فيما يُعرف اليوم باسم "الإعتقال الإداري"، التي تُشرعِن إسرائيل لمحاكمها العسكرية تجديده تلقائيًا لفترات تتراوح ما بين بضعة أيام، إلى سنة كاملة. 

ويعاني الفلسطينيون الذين يتم اتهامهم بتهم سياسية تسميها اسرائيل “أمنية” فإنهم يعانون من نظام "أبارتايد" يميز ضدهم وتكون إجراءات المحاكمة والحكم مغايرة لتلك المتبعة مع اليهود.  لا تكون محاكماتهم لا عادلة وغير منصفة ويتم فيها استخدام "الأدلة السرية" ضدهم وأوامر منع النشر، ويتم تثبيت وجمع ادلة عن طيق تعذيب المعتقلين.

ووفق إحصاءات الأول من يناير/كانون ثاني من العام الجاري، فإنّ 4417 أسيرًا ومعتقلًا فلسطينيًا يعانون ظروفاً صعبة في سجون الإحتلال الإسرائيلي، بينهم 170 طفلًا، وست نساء، كما يُحتجز 310 فلسطينياً رهن الإعتقال الإداري، دون تُهمة أو محاكمة، تمامًا كحالة خضر عدنان، وبينهم قرابة عشرين نائباً منتخباً في المجلس التشريعي (البرلمان) الفلسطيني.

ونحن مؤسسات حقوق الإنسان الدولية والإقليمية الموقّعة على النداء العالمي للتضامن مع الأسير خضر عدنان، نطالب بالافراج الفوري عن جميع الأسرى والمعتقلين في سجون إسرائيل، الذين يقعون ضحية أنظمة وتشريعات عنصرية وغير عادلة تولّد ممارسات غير قانونية وغير إنسانية، تُمارسها الحكومات الاسرائيلية المتعاقبة ضدهم، بصورة ترسّخ الظلم والعنصرية والتمييز.

إننا نطالب إسرائيل أن تتوقف عن سياساتها التالية:

الإعتقال الإداري

التعذيب وسوء المعاملة

العزل الإنفرادي

تحويل الفلسطينيين في المناطق الفلسطينية المحتلة عام 1967 إلى المحاكم العسكرية بطريقة غير مشروعة

اعتماد لوائح "إتهام سرية" ضد المعتقلين الفلسطينيين مما يتناقض مع العدالة

اعتقال الأطفال والمرضى وذوي الاحتياجات الخاصة (المعاقين)

ويعتبر النداء العالمي لنصرة الأسير خضر عدنان مقدمة لعشرات النشاطات التضامنية مع حق الأسرى والمعتقلين الفلسطينيين، أبرزها:

إحياء يوم الأسير الفلسطيني الموافق 17 أبريل/ نيسان المقبل، في كل من قطاع غزة والضفة الغربية وإسرائيل.

تنظيم وقفات احتجاجية أمام السفارات والقنصليات الاسرائيلية حول العالم.

توجيه الرسائل الاحتجاجية إلى كل من اللجنة الدولية للصليب الأحمر، والأمين العام للأمم المتحدة بان كي مون، ومسؤولي الحكومات وأعضاء البرلمانات حول العالم.

رفع مستوى الوعي العام المجتمعي بقضية الأسير خضر عدنان، وزملائه من الأسرى والمعتقلين الفلسطينيين.

تقديم الدعم المعنوي للأسرى والمعتقلين الفلسطينيين عبر إرسال الخطابات التضامنية إلى السجون.

ختامًا، فإن الواجب الإنساني يدعونا إلى التضامن الواسع مع إضراب الأسير خضر عدنان، الذي ضرب رقماً قياسياً في عدد أيام إضرابه، وفي قوة إرادته وتحديه للجبروت والعنصرية الإسرائيلية. وفي هذه اللحظة التاريخية في سجل الكفاح السلمي الفلسطيني، ندعوكم إلى الانضمام إلينا لتدشين حركة تضامنية عالمية، لتفعيل مظلومية المعتقلين والأسرى السياسيين الفلسطينيين، وعائلاتهم وأهمية نيلهم حقوقهم العادلة والمشروعة كما ينص عليها القانون الدولي والإنساني.

معا نحقق الانتصار ... معاً ننتصر!! 

وليحيا الأسير خضر عدنان.

المؤسسات الموقعة:

مؤسسة الضمير لرعاية الأسير وحقوق الإنسان 

الحركة العالمية للدفاع عن الأطفال- فرع فلسطين

الشبكة الأوروبية للدفاع عن حقوق الأسرى- النرويج/المملكة المتحدة

صامدون- شبكة التضامن مع الأسرى الفلسطينيين

حملة الحرية لأمير مخول

حملة إطلاق سراح أحمد سعدات

العودة- نيويوك- ائتلاف حق العودة للفلسطينيين

الوجود هو الصمود

مؤسسة فرانتس فانون- فرنسا

إتحاد يهود فرنسا من أجل السلام – فرنسا 

حملة التضامن الإيرلندية مع الفلسطينيين – إيرلندا 

عمال من أجل فلسطين 

محامون من أجل حقوق الفلسطينيين

اللجنة الدولية للمحامين الوطنيين/ لجنة الحرية لفلسطين

حملة التضامن مع فلسطين- المملكة المتحدة

حملة التضامن مع الفلسطينيين – اسكتلندا

الحملة الامريكية للمقاطعة الاكاديمية والثقافية لاسرائيل

لإضافة اسم مؤسستكم الرجاء التسجيل عبر الرابط التالي:

http://palestinianprisoners.org/palestinian-prisoners-day/#endorse

حققت جماعة "الإخوان المسلمون" فوزاً كبيراً في الانتخابات التشريعية المصرية الأخيرة، والتى تعد بحق أول انتخابات نزيهة تجري في مصر منذ ثورة يوليو ١٩٥٢. لم تكن النتائج مفاجئة بنظر الكثيرين، فتاريخ الإخوان النضالي وتنظيمهم وقاعدتهم الشعبية كانت عوامل واضحة ومؤشرة إلى فوزهم المحتمل.

بدا المشهد يوم الثالث والعشرين من يناير٢٠١٢ وكأن ثورة يناير ٢٠١٢ أفرزت بعد عام أول ثمارها. ورغم تخوفات البعض من سيطرة التيار الإسلامي فقد اعتقد الكثيرون أن كوادر الإخوان مؤهلة بالفعل لتولى دفة الثورة. وسادت اعتقادات أخرى أكثر ثقة وتفاؤلاً بأن المجلس الوليد صاحب الشرعية قادر على إدارة التغيير والتصدي لسياسات المجلس العسكري بل واقترح البعض أن يتسلم البرلمان سلطات المجلس العسكري.

أسابيع قليلة مرت على هذه الجلسة كان بمقدورها أن تحول تخوفات البعض إلى اعتراض واضح وصريح وأن تتسبب في إرباك بعض المؤيدين رغم أن عمر المجلس الوليد لم يبلغ شهره الأول بعد. ما الذي حدث؟
يبدو أن الأزمة الأساسية تكمن في حجم الهوة بين ما كان مأمولاً وبين ما تحقق. فالموضوعات التي ناقشها البرلمان حتى الآن هي كالآتي:

حقوق شهداء الثورة

وهو موضوع واسع لايزال قيد المناقشة، وتعمل عليه لجنتان: الأولى لجمع المعلومات الجنائية أو ما يعرف بتقصي الحقائق، والثانية لبحث إمكانية تفعيل تشريعات لمحاسبة الوزراء أقرت في خمسينيات القرن الماضي ولم تطبق إلى الآن.

شهداء إستاد بورسعيد

وهى الجريمة التي راح ضحيتها أكثر من سبعين مصري (هناك تقديرات بأن العدد يفوق ذلك بكثير) ويسود اعتقاد واسع بأنها مدبرة من قبل أعوان النظام السابق وأركانه المحبوسين حالياً، وانتهت إلى مطالبات لا ترقى إلى توصية رسمية ملزمه تطالب بتطهير وزارة الداخلية وعدم استخدام العنف تجاه المتظاهرين مع التوجيه بإعداد قانون ينظم التظاهر.

أزمة نقص اسطوانات الغاز

وهو موضوع لايزال قيد المناقشة.

ثمة فارق كبير بين الثورة والدولة، فالأولى حالة جامحة متمردة قانونها التغيير والتمرد وغايتها تحقيق مثل نبيلة وقيم إنسانية رفيعة، بينما الثانية روتينية بحتة تلتزم بالقواعد واللوائح ولا تتحرك إلا في ضوئها وغايتها أن تسود اللائحة ويطبق القانون.

وهنا تحديداً تكمن الأزمة، المتصاعدة على ما يبدو، فالثورة التي لم تنته لازالت جامحة متمردة تؤججها المكائد والمؤامرات وترفع من وتيرتها إشارات سلبية عديدة صادرة عن الموالين للنظام السابق، والمطلوب هو استكمال أهدافها فوراً وبقوة الشرعية، شرعية البرلمان.

وسلطات البرلمان كبيرة بالفعل ولا شك أنها تمكنه من تحقيق العديد من هذه الأهداف. كما أن نقاشات النواب قوية ومبشرة، فبعضهم يطالب بإقالة النائب العام الذي يرون أنه تستر على العديد من التحقيقات ولم يؤد واجبه على النحو المطلوب، وآخرون يتحدثون عن اتهام وزير الداخلية بالتقصير–وهو أحد توصيات لجنة تقصى حقائق بورسعيد- وبعضهم يشير إلى سحب الثقة من الحكومة وتشكيل حكومة جديدة يتوافق عليها أعضاء البرلمان.

لكن شيئاً من ذلك لم يتحقق. بل على العكس من ذلك أزعم أن البرلمان بأغلبيته الإخوانية تعمد خلال الجلسات القليلة الماضية عرقلة الجهود الرامية إلى إصدار قرارات أو توصيات ملزمة، فلا اتهام صريح وجه لوزير الداخلية الذي أثبتت الصور بل ونقاشات النواب أن جنوده استخدموا الطلقات الحية " الخرطوش" رغم إنكاره ذلك، ووصل الأمر إلى أن النواب ذكروا صراحة أن السيد الوزير لا يدرى ما يحدث على أرض الواقع، لكن ذلك لم يكن كافياً لتوجيه الاتهام الذي أوصت به اللجنة التي شكلها المجلس.

وكان من المدهش كذلك أن يناقش البرلمان أزمة نقص الغاز في نفس اللحظة التي تدور فيها اشتباكات قاسية أمام وزارة الداخلية المصرية بين المتظاهرين الغاضبين وجنود الداخلية وقد سقط فيها قتلى ومصابين.

وكان الأكثر إدهاشاً أن يطلب رئيس المجلس من اللجان المعنية الانتهاء من قانون تنظيم التظاهر والاحتجاج رغم أن الثورة التي جاءت عبر التظاهر تطالب بقوانين أخرى ترى أنها أكثر أولوية.

كيف يتحرك الإخوان؟

إن المتابع للجلسات القليلة الماضية وكيفية تعامل الأغلبية الإخوانية معها يمكنه تكوين قناعة بأنهم قرروا على الأقل في المرحلة الحالية الاكتفاء بدور المراقب وهو بطبيعة الحال أحد المهام المنوطة بالمجلس لكنها ليست كلها ولا أهمها.

 يكتفي الإخوان بالمناقشة الحرة وبشرح وجهة نظرهم في الكيفية التي يجب أن يكون عليها الأمر موضوع المناقشة وتوضيح جوانب الخطأ دون أدنى محاولة للتصويب. فعلى سبيل المثال، تم توضيح جوانب القصور في حادثة بورسعيد للسيد وزير الداخلية وتم شرح أهمية تطهير الوزارة من القيادات التابعة للنظام السابق لكن شيئاً ملزماً للوزير أو مهلة محددة للتنفيذ لم يصدر عنهم. حادثة أخرى تتمثل في إلغاء قانون الطوارئ فمع تصاعد المطالبات للمجلس بإصدار قرار في الشأن، فضل المجلس عدم التطرق للأمر إلى قام المشير بالإعلان عن إلغائه -إلا في جرائم البلطجة- مستبقاً جلسة المجلس، وهو ما يبدو أنه تم عبر تنسيق مسبق بين الإخوان والمجلس العسكري. كما أعلنوا أيضاً أنهم لا يريدون تشكيل حكومة وأنهم لا يرغبون في استلام السلطة من العسكري.

هذه الصورة الوديعة تبدو مربكة حين ننظر لصور أخرى خلفها قاسى فيها الإخوان صنوف العذاب بدء من اغتيال حسن البنا وانتهاء باعتقال ومصادرة أملاك خيرت الشاطر وحسن مالك.

محاولة للفهم:

يبدو الأمر مستعصياً على الفهم. فما الذي يدفع الإخوان بتاريخهم إلى عدم التصدي لعملية التغيير وقيادة مطالب الثورة وتحقيقها. أليست الفرصة سانحة؟! 

لكن الإجابة على هذا التساؤل تتطلب أولاً فهم الخلفيات التي قد تكون دفعت الإخوان لهذا الموقف، وبطبيعة الحال فإن تنظيمهم الذي عمل في السر لسنوات طويلة لا يمكن بسهولة فهم الكيفية التي يفكر بها ولا حجم المشاورات الداخلية أو الخارجية التي يجريها، لكن ذلك لا يمنع من المحاولة على أي حال. يبدو واضحاً سعي الإخوان لعدم التصادم مع المجلس العسكري. بل على العكس، فهم يسعون لكسب ثقته ووده والتعبير عن انهم لا يرغبون في الانقلاب عليه بل يرغبون في التعاون معه. كما أن هذا الموقف يمنحهم ثقة على الصعيد الدولي بأنهم ليسوا "حماس"ً أخرى وأنهم لا يريدون الإضرار بمصالح الغرب نظراً لخلفيتهم الإسلامية. أضف إلى ذلك أن حجم الفساد والأخطاء المتراكمة أكبر بكثير من الإخوان، ومن ثم فليس من الحكمة أن يتورطوا في مستنقع ربما لا يستطيعون الخروج منه، ولا أن يرثوا مشكلات يبدو بعضها بلا حلول.

فضلاً عن أن التصدي بقوة وعنف كفيل بإثارة أعوان النظام السابق ممن سيشعرون بالخطر، وهؤلاء موجودون على رأس السلطة التنفيذية ويمثلون قيادات الوزارات والهيئات والمصالح ويملكون شبكة من العلاقات تتخطى فى بعض الأحيان حدود الدولة، وهو ما يعنى أن السلطة فعلياً لم تسلم بعد فبوسع البرلمان أن يصدر مئة قرار وبوسع أعوان النظام السابق عرقلة كل قرار بمئة مشكلة تدفع الشارع للتصادم مع البرلمان العاجز، وحوداث الإنفلات الأمني المنضبطة خير مثال على ذلك فهي لا تحدث إلا بالتزامن مع أحداث سياسية ذات مغزى.

كذلك فإن غموضاً لايزال يحيط بمسألة انتخابات الرئاسة ودور المؤسسة العسكرية، صحيح أن المجلس أعلن عن نيته تسليم السلطة لرئيس منتخب بنهاية يونيو القادم، لكنه حين أعلن الجدول الزمني للتنفيذ اكتفى بالإعلان عن موعد فتح باب الترشيح وهو ١٠ مارس القادم وهذا هو الموعد الوحيد المحدد حتى أن موعد إغلاق الباب غير معروف فهو سيستمر مفتوحاً لثلاثة أسابيع على الأقل حسب التصريح الغريب المنسوب لرئيس اللجنة.

وزيادة في الغموض فإن إشارات مبهمة تصدر عن المجلس العسكري وتبقى بلا تفسير، منها إقالة أحد أعضائه لبلوغ السن القانونية ليعلن عقب ذلك بساعات قليلة أنه تم تعينيه مساعداً لرئيس الأركان، وهو أمر مثير بلاشك فمن الصعب أن يقتنع مصري بمسألة الإحالة لسن التقاعد نظراً لأن رئيس المجلس نفسه قد تخطى الثمانين، فضلاً عنه تعينه في منصب آخر مهم على علاقة بمهام المجلس العسكري لدرجة سمحت له أن يدلى بتصريحات لوسائل الإعلام عن أحداث بورسعيد، والسؤال هل كان ثمة توجهين داخل المجلس وكان ما حدث حلا توافقياً؟

ومن بين هذه الإشارات أيضاً ما أذاعه السيد رئيس الأركان في معرض نفيه شائعة وفاته من أن هناك أخبار سارة ستسعد الشعب المصري كله قريباً، ورغم أن أحداً لا يعرف حتى الآن ما هي تلك الأخبار إلا أنه فات السيد رئيس الأركان أنه استخدم نفس الجملة التي استخدمها ضباط الجيش في ميدان التحرير قبل إعلان مبارك تنحيه عن السلطة!

ما سبق لا يشكل سوى رصداً لبعض الخلفيات التي قد يكون الإخوان استندوا إليها في بناء موقفهم، وهى إن صحت فإنها في الغالب تشير إلى أن تقدير الإخوان للموقف ينبنى على أننا إزاء لحظة هلامية بلا ثوابت تقريباً وأن صراعاً على السلطة أو القوة لم يحسم بعد وأن تدخلهم الآن قد يفسر بانحيازهم لطرف ضد طرف، بينما يشكل هذا الأداء تدخلاً سلبياً قد يستفيد منه طرف دون أن يتمكن الطرف الثاني من إثبات تورطهم، وعند حسم هذا الصراع يظهر الإخوان بمشروعهم الحقيقي للدولة المصرية.  

الديمقراطية وحدها لا تكفى

هل يمكن أن نفهم مما سبق أن الديمقراطية وحدها لا تكفى؟ يبدو ذلك صحيحاً نوعاً ما، فلبنان والعراق والكويت دول تمارس الديمقراطية لكنها لا تعد نماذج مبشرة. وهى تمارس الديموقراطية لكنها لم تنفذ أبداً إلى أهدافها. فهي محدودة في الكويت وطائفية في العراق وتوافقية في لبنان، ويبدو أن الوضع المصري الحالي أكثر قرباً للنماذج السابقة فممارسة الديمقراطية موجودة وملموسة ولا يمكن إنكارها، لكنها مقيدة بتوازنات للقوى لا أحد يعرف حجمها الحقيقي، وتبدو أصعب اللحظات هنا هي لحظة الصدام التي يستحيل على المرء التنبؤ بنتيجتها وإن كان بوسعه الاستماع لوقع خطواتها القادمة إليه.

A simple caricature by a cartoonist and a four-minute video featuring an activist expressing his dissent are arguably some of today’s most common mediums for political expression. In post-constitutional reform and post–parliamentary-election Morocco, sharing a political cartoon and criticizing the monarchy in a video is a crime, met with jail time. While reforms have been implemented for months, vague language has allowed Mohammed VI’s regime to selectively interpret and enforce its reforms whenever the monarchical institution is seen to be threatened. 

Morocco’s previous constitution contained many controversial articles that were either lost or split in the 2011 constitution. Article 23 of the previous constitution stated, “The person of the King shall be sacred and inviolable.” In the new constitution, the word “sacred” no longer appears in reference to the king. However, article 46 states, “The person of the King is inviolable and respect is owed to him.” This is a translation from the French version. The Arabic version is slightly different. As journalist Ahmed Benchemsi has pointed out, “In Arabic, it reads: ‘The King’s person is inviolable, and ihtiram [respect] and tawqeer are owed to him.’  Ihtiram wa tawqeer is an ancient expression used to signify the privileged status of those who claim descent from [the Prophet] Muhammad himself—a group that includes the members of Morocco’s 350-year-old Alaouite dynasty.”

Though without window-dressing, the new constitution is rife with pluralist rhetoric that would indicate legitimate progress towards democratization. Article 28 begins with, “Freedom of the press is guaranteed and cannot be limited by any form of censorship.” The same article ends, nevertheless, with a clause suggesting it is to be interpreted by those who enforce it:

“The law sets the rules of [press] organization and the control of public means over communication. The law guarantees access to these means by respecting linguistic pluralism, culture, and politics of Moroccan society. In accordance with article 165, the High Authority of Audiovisual Communication will ensure compliance with this pluralism.”

Proceeding to Article 165, the language delves further into another level of ambiguity:

“The High Authority for Audiovisual Communication is an institution responsible for ensuring compliance with the pluralistic expression of opinion, thought, and the right to information in the audiovisual field in compliance with the civil values ​​and fundamental laws of the Kingdom.”

The ambiguous nature of these articles suggests a deliberate strategy whereby the Moroccan monarchy is not truly embarking on a path towards a democracy that protects uncensored free speech. Let us explore why this may, in fact, be the case.

Moroccan society is heavily rooted in traditional practices where tawqeer (reverence and obeisance) towards those who trace their lineage from the Prophet Muhammad, the shorfa, is common, especially among illiterate and rural populations. These ancient practices predate the Moroccan state and were a cornerstone for the establishment of the Alaouite dynasty, which began its reign in the medieval trade city of Sijilmasa, today Rissani. Annual festivals, moussems, that honor dead saints and shorfa— for example, the Moussem of Moulay Ali Cherif who died in 1659—draw massive crowds in cities throughout Morocco, where shrines of honored saints and shorfa are major landmarks. The constitution’s vague language with regard to “civil values” corresponds with these ubiquitous customs of deifying descendants of Muhammad, turning reverence and respect into a form of worship. For this reason, criticizing and caricaturizing the king could easily fall outside the norms of Moroccan “civil values,” should the regime choose to define it as such.

[Moulay Ali Cherif's Mausoleum, site of the Rissani moussem. Image by João Leitão from Wikipedia Commons.]

While the word “sacred” has been eliminated from the new constitution, it has not stopped authorities from using the term to charge eighteen-year-old blogger Walid Bahomane for posting a caricature of the king. According to the police report filed against him, Bahomane was charged with “violating the sacred values”. The caricature Bahomane posted on Facebook appeared in a 2009 edition of the French newspaper Le Monde. The cartoonist behind the caricature, Damien Glez, wrote an open letter to Mohammad VI urging the case be dropped. Glez began his letter stating, “Many world leaders curse the fact that they are not caricatured by the cartoonists of their countries.” Yet, on 16 February, Bahomane was found guilty and sentenced to one year in prison. Meanwhile, the Facebook group “Mohammad VI, my liberty is more sacred than you”—where users are invited to post caricatures of the king—continues to garner support for Bahomane. 

Two days prior to Bahomane’s trial, Abdessamad Hiddour of Taza was sentenced to three years in prison for expressing his video-posted dissent towards the regime, specifically the economic policies pursued by the monarchy. Hiddour specifically railed against the “indirect colonial” economic and cultural policies pursued by the monarch, who he unceremoniously called a "dog." With no lawyer, Hiddour was similarly charged with “violating the sacred values.” Since the first week of January 2012, Taza has seen political turbulence met with violent altercations, leading to deaths, injuries, and rampant arbitrary arrests. In another YouTube video, women from Taza openly displayed their physical injuries from police brutality and gave accounts of how their houses were raided by police, they were threatened with rape, and their sons were arrested and murdered.

While the Moroccan monarchy experiences popular approval and is viewed as a stable and unifying force in Moroccan society, its policies suggest a trajectory towards the marginalization of opposing voices, even if this means contradicting its own political reforms. Despite the existence of a parliament and a constitution, an absolute monarchy remains the most accurate term to describe Morocco’s current political system. A parliament that lacks the capability to check the king’s executive power and a constitution written by figures appointed by the king are hardly steps towards any form of democratization.

The pursuit of policies of pluralism and liberalization acts as an effective facade in a country so widely viewed to be “progressive” and described as an “exception” in a region rife with popular uprisings. Yet, Morocco’s decision to police the definition of “sacred values” rooted in ancient traditions suggests anything but the progressive. This “exception” will not be so easy to get away with. The pro-democracy February 20^th Movement will be commemorating its one year anniversary this weekend with nationwide demonstrations, and the regime appears to be only giving them more reasons to continue protesting. 

I feel like I need to write the stories, he would say, or the stories will not get told. And so often Anthony Shadid did write the stories no one else would—the stories from Iraq, from Lebanon, from Libya, from Syria. In the end, he died on a dirt road in Syria, carried by a fellow journalist across the border to Turkey, like a fallen hero. To many, he was a hero, but he was also a beloved friend, a son who adored his parents, a father who lived for his children, a husband who beamed at mention of his wife. He always tried to balance that pull of the reporter to cover the story with the responsibility he had to those who loved him to just stay with us.

The line between the journalist who should somehow stay along a safe sideline and the people to whom these historic, often heart-wrenching events were occurring, blurred for Anthony. That is why he was one of the best reporters of our time. That is why he was in Syria today.

I am so grateful a friend called to tell me Anthony died—that I did not see it on twitter or on the news. I had gotten calls about Anthony before. He had been shot in Palestine. He had been kidnapped in Libya. He had ridden in cars to southern Lebanon in 2006, when even the driver had chided him for edging far too close to danger. But he always reminded us that he did not take unnecessary risks. Anthony was no maverick. He did not set out to be a war reporter. He just wanted to be a reporter covering the Middle East.

He was born in Oklahoma to an Arab-American family. He worked hard to become fluent in Arabic. He was much more than that. He was truly literate in Arabic. He could hum Um Kulthoum and recite al-Mutanabbi. Though he wrote in English, his prose had the cadence of the best Middle Eastern poets. He earned his knowledge through hard work, hours in classrooms and coffee shops across the Arab world, patiently listening to anyone willing to teach him.

Those of us who knew Anthony are well aware of how modest he was, how amazed he was by his achievements. But everything he did, he took seriously. In the late 1990s, he worked for a time in Los Angeles for the Associate Press. Taking a break from covering some wildfires, he rang to talk to me about the Iranian pop legend Googoosh. He was considering writing about her US tour and just wanted to be sure he grasped the nuances of her songs, the essence of what Googoosh represented to Iranians in exile. “Gotta go,” he said after a while, “these fires are just brutal.”

In 2000, he came to New York City for a few days. Together, we had arranged to interview the Iranian filmmaker Abbas Kiarostami for the Middle East Research and Information Project (MERIP). I was a bit daunted by the prospect, and somehow having a credible, bona fide journalist working with me made me feel more secure. Through a colleague, we arranged to meet Kiarostami at a coffee shop in Greenwich Village. Kiarostami arrived on time, but then announced he was going for a walk and would return to talk with us later. "We blew it," Anthony whispered, as he watched the great director walk away; "he is not coming back." "He will return," I assured him. We sat in silence drinking espresso after espresso, Anthony shooting regretful glances toward the door from time to time. Then, Kiarostami quietly returned, kept his sunglasses on, and spoke with us for nearly an hour. We got the story for MERIP. I will always be proud to share a byline with Anthony Shadid.

As we headed back to my office at New York University (NYU), I asked Anthony how we might better bridge the worlds of academia and journalism. "Think of all those sections in the Sunday New York Times," he said. We need to work together to ensure coverage from the Middle East from all those angles—feature stories, business, culture—not just the front-page headlines.

In 2001, after a MERIP editorial meeting, we were walking to our favorite Adams Morgan dive to drink and dance after another typical marathon session working on the journal. I have an offer, Anthony told me, to write for the Boston Globe. After a stint in Boston acclimating to the newspaper, they would send him to the Middle East. The prospect caused tension in his marriage, but it was the job he had been working towards for much of his life.

He had just finished his first book, Legacy of the Prophet, and Anthony was thinking of asking Edward Said to read the manuscript. His personal connection to the great scholar was Wadie, Edward Said’s son, whom Anthony had met while they were both studying Arabic in Cairo. The two developed a lifelong friendship. Anthony asked me if it was too forward, too presumptuous to draw on those personal ties to ask for Edward Said’s help with his book. No, I insisted, Edward Said would not read the book if he did not want to. In the end, Anthony’s first book was published with this blurb by Said: "In the reductive and bellicose sensationalism that has disfigured the general American awareness of Islam, [Shadid’s] work is a stirring exception." Whenever I introduced Anthony at an event, I read that comment. Despite his long list of lofty accomplishments, he remained visibly proud of the praise from a scholar he so admired.

It was a weekend day in New York and I had just gotten out of the shower. My colleague from NYU rang to say he had just read a report on the NYT website that Anthony Shadid had been shot in Ramallah. "But it is not your friend Anthony Shadid," my colleague said trying to reassure me, "because he is not in Ramallah, right?" But Anthony was in Ramallah, where there were stories to be told. I made some phone calls and somehow managed to get a hold of Anthony’s cell phone and rang him. 

He answered from his hospital bed in Jerusalem. Since he had been shot in the shoulder, it hurt to hold the phone so he laid it on his pillow; we talked for about an hour. He had been interviewing Yasser Arafat in his Ramallah compound, then under siege. It was late in the afternoon but there was still light out. Anthony was wearing a bulletproof vest clearly marked “PRESS” and was walking in the middle of the street, alongside his handler. This is what they had been told to do, so they would not be mistaken for anything other than journalists. A sniper had shot him in the neck. The bullet barely missed his spinal chord, going across and exiting from his shoulder. He fell to the ground, and as he watched the blood pour out of him, he thought of his daughter Laila—fearing he would never see her again. He kept repeating, “I am a journalist, an American journalist” as he was surrounded by soldiers. One soldier finally fell to his knees and gave him CPR. Anthony was finally carried to an ambulance and driven to a hospital in Jerusalem. Later, some soldiers came into his room with guns pointed at him, he told me—in clear violation of the Geneva Convention, he pointed out—demanding that he put his hands up in the air. “I cannot raise my hands," he told them, "cause you fucking shot me.” They looked at him, lying there wounded, and decided to leave him be. Even now, in his obituaries, we read that he was shot in Ramallah—not who shot him or why.

Anthony then went to work for the Washington Post. His beat was the Islamic world. He told us he would be a roving journalist covering stories across the globe. But with the US occupation of Iraq, he became more of a war reporter. As President Bush warned of an impending attack, many journalists either left Iraq or became embedded. Anthony had worked many years in order to cover the Middle East, and he was not going to leave the biggest story of his career untold. Anthony insisted on staying and remained unembedded, covering the impact of the war on the Iraqi people. “He wrote poetry on deadline,” said Steve Fainaru who worked with him at the Post.

In 2004, Anthony won the Pulitzer for International Reporting. He was cited for "his extraordinary ability to capture, at personal peril, the voices and emotions of Iraqis as their country was invaded, their leader toppled and their way of life upended." What made Anthony’s reporting so vivid was his ability to empathize with suffering people, to listen carefully as they told their stories, and to convey the devastation of the war for Iraqis when too many chose to look the other way. “I did not want the Pentagon to write this story like a screenplay, with expert scene-setting, and the temptation, irresistible in conflict, to manipulate reality,” he said. "Readers needed to understand how American weapons were fired but just as importantly, where our bombs landed. This war, from the American perspective, might have had democratic aims, but it was still war, horrific—a panorama of terror and grief." His book, Night Draws Near: Iraq’s People in the Shadow of America’s War, will remain a classic of our generation, the story of a war that left a broken country in its wake.

I last saw my friend Anthony on 12 April 2010; by then, he was writing for the New York Times, and happily married. He had come to Brown University to speak about his forthcoming book and gave a lecture entitled, “Stones Without People: Loss and Nostalgia in Lebanon, Iraq, and the Middle East.” The day before, his lovely wife Nada had given birth to their son Malik. That morning, he got a call letting him know he had won his second Pulitzer. He could not stop smiling and his eyes fluttered with sheer joy. The Associated Press took pictures of Anthony at Brown that day. It is so heartbreaking that some of the photos of that day have been used for his obituaries in the press. 

At one point during his visit, we stopped by our home in Providence so Anthony could grab a snack and relax for a bit before his lecture. He bonded with Binker the dog and wanted a tour of the whole house. The time he had spent rebuilding his ancestral home in Marjayoun in Lebanon had made him more attuned to design, the idiosyncrasies of old homes. He admired an old chest of drawers we had picked up at an antique shop in Massachusetts. I should do more, he said, with my apartment in Boston. The idea of a home was precious for Anthony. In Marjayoun, he had discovered two old olive trees in his grandmother’s garden. He had planted a third one alongside them. In the shadows of his family’s past, he was building a home for his Nada, his Malik, his Laila. They now have those stones, those trees, and all those stories.

No one told a story like Anthony Shadid. I write this not as a piece of scholarship; I am too heartbroken to draw any profound conclusions. I write simply as a way to handle my sadness, my utter disbelief that he is gone—as a remembrance of some of the stories Anthony shared with his friends. Little Malik turns two this April; may he grow up to know how much his dad meant to us all.

Bulaq: Among the Ruins of an Unfinished Revolution. Directed by Davide Morandini and Fabio Lucchini. UK/Italy/Egypt, 2011.

“Bread, freedom, and social justice” has been one of the most memorable chants from Egypt’s year of mass protests. Although world and Egyptian media have been fixated on the symbolic Tahrir Square, little attention has been directed towards places where many Egyptians converging on the square actually live. Bulaq, only a few hundred meters north of Tahrir Square, is one such neighborhood. The residents of Bulaq represent the essence of why Egyptians erupted in mass protests last year. This is a community that has suffered for nearly forty years at the hands of the Sadat and Mubarak regimes, which aimed to erase the district from Cairo’s map. Bulaq: Among the Ruins of an Unfinished Revolution is a short documentary film that shifts the focus from the square and into a community at the heart of the struggle for social justice.

The twenty-five minute film by Davide Morandini and Fabio Lucchini documents a deteriorating residential district where residents have faced police brutality and forced evictions for decades. Residents speak directly to the camera, sharing their ordeals and personal experiences. Although those voices speak for the specific case of Bulaq, they also reflect a wider struggle by an entire class of citizens the Egyptian government has long disregarded. As a recent Amnesty International report states, the government has used the longstanding Emergency Law to legitimize its repressive policy of forced evictions targeted at populations in areas such as Bulaq. The repeal of the Emergency Law and the demand for social justice, including housing rights, have been cornerstones of the Tahrir movement. Bulaq threads together these many strands, along with providing a rare look into the everyday lives in popular neighborhoods such as this one.

Nearly sixty percent of Cairo’s residents today live in so-called “informal areas.” These are areas that urbanized without the guidance of a government-approved urban plan. A more accurate description of those areas is “improvised urbanism,” as they continue a long tradition of improvised planning found in Cairo for centuries prior to the city’s relatively brief encounter with formal planning from the mid-nineteenth to the mid-twentieth centuries. From the 6th of October Bridge, Bulaq may appear to be another of Cairo’s informal communities; however, this is in fact one of Cairo’s oldest districts.

The name Bulaq is an Arabic adaptation from the French “Beaux Lac,” meaning beautiful lake. In the fifteenth century, Bulaq was Cairo’s main commercial port and was home to some of the city’s wealthy merchant families. The district was also home to the Egyptian Museum in 1858, and Muhammad Ali’s Bulaq Press was established in 1820. Throughout its history, the district developed organically as a middle and working class neighborhood with an interesting variety of domestic architecture. Despite this rich history, today the word Bulaq is synonymous with collapsed homes and desperate living conditions. It is a community under constant threat from the authorities.

Because of its central location, the district has been envisioned by various regimes as a clean slate for the implementation of new urban models. The film does not cover the trajectory of current state policy towards the district, which can be traced back to 1930, when a plan proposed the reconstruction of the district. Another 1950s plan proposed to “cleanse” Bulaq by replacing its rich fabric with massive modernist blocks surrounded by gardens. These earlier visions remained only on paper. In the 1970s, however, Sadat envisioned the area as a new business district to showcase Egypt’s economic realignment with global capitalism. An aggressive campaign of forced evictions and relocation was commenced. Residents were forced out of their homes and given flats in concrete blocs built on the desert fringes of Cairo. This campaign continued under the Mubarak regime. One of the residents filmed narrates her ordeal when she was evicted in 1982, only to return later.

[Left: Plans for Bulaq in the 1930s. Image from Mercedes Volait, Architectes & Architectures de L'Egypte
Moderne 1830-1950, via the author. Right: Plans for Bulaq in the 1950s. Image via the author.]

The film portrays the intimacy and sense of community that Bulaq offers. It also highlights the sense of security provided by living within such a community. Despite the economic hardships and the deteriorating physical environment, the community is thriving socially. The filmmaker intercuts interviews with scenes of everyday life: a woman smoking outside her home, a butcher cutting meat, a child on a bicycle, and a man who is uncomfortable with the presence of a camera and demands to know what is being filmed. Because this has been an ongoing struggle for decades, it has become an intergenerational struggle where young adults echo the concerns of their older neighbors. The film succeeds in highlighting the fact that strong social ties and a community’s sense of ownership of place are far stronger than state plans and oppression. In light of this long struggle, as well as this last year’s unfolding upheaval, the film captures a sense of anxiety and uncertainty.

However, the film lacks historical perspective and context. Although it focuses on the present situation, particularly in light of the revolution, it could have benefited from a well-researched introduction. While the English translations are fairly accurate, the interviews fail to capture how the residents of this community fit within the larger context of Cairo. Also, it would be useful to link the experience of Bulaq to other communities in the city suffering from the same state-sanctioned brutality and eviction. Another shortcoming of the film is its one-sidedness. It would have made a stronger case against government policies if the audience had the chance to hear from officials directly how they view the issue of Bulaq. The multinational developers and hotel chains that also benefit from this government policy are also unheard. An interview with the management of the Hilton Hotel overlooking the district, for example, could have been interesting.

The film is well shot and provides a series of sharp images ranging from intimate close-ups to wide panorama shots. The filmmaker uses a combination of still frames for scenery along with moving shots where he follows some of the film’s characters as they traverse Bulaq’s streets. The sound quality and editing are well done.

The strongest aspect of the film is the residents’ direct address to the audience without the mediation of a third party. They are strong-willed. They know their rights and they demand justice regardless of the obstacles. “Those responsible for demolitions have to be tried,” says one man. “In neighborhoods like Bulaq we love each other and work together like one family,” says a woman. Another man confirms that “the owners of this place are the people living here; we own this place.”

Bulaq: Among the Ruins of an Unfinished Revolution provides a much-needed portrait of the real places where Egyptians live. Officials turn a blind eye to the community they were elected to serve. With Egypt’s centralized governance and lack of local authority, Bulaq residents continue to live under the threat of forced evictions and demolitions. Their right to the city is constantly under duress. Meanwhile, the government carries on with its Cairo2050 plan that aims to transform the area into a zone of glass towers and international hotels. Currently under construction is the St. Regis, a six star hotel along the Nile turning its back on Bulaq.

[The projected image of Cairo according to the Cairo2050 plan. Image via Digital Architectural Papers.]

Egypt’s revolution is about the people of Bulaq and their rights. It is about ending crony capitalism that allows such a disregard for citizens while making concessions to international corporations that aim only to increase their profits rather than develop and rejuvenate communities. As was the case with many Egyptians, the eruption of the revolution gave hope to the people of Bulaq. However, over the course of the past year, little has been done to ensure that the violations of the past and state oppression will end. In this sense, Bulaq continues to wait among its ruins for the still unfinished revolution to deliver real change.