It was early afternoon at the Congress for the Republic (CPR) headquarters in downtown Tunis, known amongst its members as Hezb el Koujina — literally, the Kitchen Party. Mr. Mohammed Abbou, standing in the CPR headquarter's actual koujina (kitchen) was hurriedly eating a sandwich before scuffling off to a meeting with the rest of the party's political bureau. Abbou, currently Tunisia’s Minister of Administrative Reform, was trying his best to swallow bites of his sandwich, while leaving sufficient amounts of time to breathe and answer the questions of those surrounding him: young party members who were asking him about his ministry’s structure and about the course of internal politicking he does with his peers. Enter his wife, Mrs. Samia Abbou, who is also a member of Tunisia’s Constituent Assembly. Next, a hot house of five heated conversations all occur at the same time. Using her remarkably animated, fiery mannerisms Mrs. Abbou jokes with two younger CPR members, interrupted only by a phone call that she answers outside the kitchen. This is the political scene at CPR headquarters, similar to many other party settings in post-Ben Ali Tunisia: approachable and raw.

The former president's ouster on 14 January 2011 led to an opening of Tunisia's path to a functional democracy. The ouster has also activated the partisan dreams of many activists-turned-politicians. For decades, Zine al-Abidine Ben Ali's Constitutional Democratic Rally (Rassemblement Constitutionnel Démocratique, RCD), which emerged in 1988, dominated the political scene. The party penetrated all national administrative levels and every aspect of the Tunisian's daily life. From public institutions such as municipalities and post offices to private corporations and family-owned shops, you could be certain to catch a glimpse of Ben Ali's omnipresent stare. Posters and framed pictures of him hung at every doorstep, difficult to miss. "Elections" always heralded seemingly miraculous results; the percentage voting for Ben Ali never dipped below 80 percent. Most political activity was violently crushed during Ben Ali's era. From 1988 to 1999, the Progressive Democratic Party (Parti Démocrate Progressiste, PDP), then one of the only parties operating legally, was allowed to run in the elections. Yet PDP, which is still active today as an opposition party, was largely seen as background décor, both by ruling RCD party members and countless activists operating sub rosa. 

Tunisia's germinal political landscape today is the polar opposite of what once was. Following the 2010–2011 uprisings, parties were budding everywhere. The number of parties has now reached 118. During the campaign season for the October 23^rd elections for the Constituent Assembly, it was near impossible to keep track of them all — Marxists, progressives, Islamists, conservatives, and nationalists of all stripes. Just like most countries that undergo a transformative democratizing revolution (otherwise known as revolutionary fever), the number of parties slowly started dwindling off. Now, it is a matter of survival of the fittest. 

The fittest at the present moment is, by all means and measurements, the Islamist Ennahda (Renaissance Party). Ennahda enjoys a level of organization that is unmatched in Tunisia’s political terrain. What holds the party together, for one, is that its main structural pillars were preserved during Ben Ali's regime, in hiding and abroad in exile. Additionally, Ennahda members are highly disciplined, consistently voting in line with the party's political platform. The platform has become a set of beliefs that is shared between all members of the party, serving as a partial representation of their social and religious worldview. Their aqidah (creed) and its connection to their faith dramatically increase their level of political coherence, especially between each other and within the party's political and executive bureaus.The party's electoral campaign was also highly commendable, venturing into the heart of Tunisia and campaigning door-to-door in underdeveloped inland regions where only a few dared to enter.

Ennahda, which won a plurality of votes in the October 2011 elections, eventually formed a coalition with two leading secularist parties that garnered the second and fourth highest number of votes. After the elections, the center-left CPR and a social democratic party named Ettakatol (Democratic Forum for Labour and Liberties) successfully entered into “Troïka” negotiations with Ennahda to "proportionally" divide up ministerial and other high-level governmental posts. The President of the Republic position went to Moncef Marzouki, a human rights activist and one of CPR’s co-founders; the Prime Minister role  was given to Ennahda's Secretary General Hamadi Jebali; and the President of the Constituent Assembly post went to Mustapha Ben Jaafar, Ettakatol’s Secretary General.

Compared to other parties, CPR and Ettakatol appear to be faring well. Yet, this could not be farther from the truth. Since the coalition's "Troïka" negotiations, the two parties have been experiencing major cracks in their operational management and maintenance. In CPR's case, a fission has developed along ideological lines. Some members of each respective party do not agree on one detail or another pertaining to the Troïka negotiations, and slowly, two opposing sides have effectively crystallized in each party. Conversation has been steadily degenerating, too, between each of the sides. CPR, for instance, has always prided itself on not holding an ideological stance, bringing Tunisians of all backgrounds and ideologies together to support human rights and a republican form of governance. However, what was once a point of pride is now a source of discord amongst CPR's ranks. Two camps have emerged: one in support of Secretary General Abderraouf Ayadi and his plans to strengthen the party's influence in government and another camp that stands firmly with the CPR political bureau’s decisions made during the negotiations. Similar eruptions have led to remarkable disaccord in Ettakatol as well — leading to several resignations.

An imagery of political subservience to Ennahda is plaguing, and thus paralyzing, the two parties. While the Troïka agreement is a source of discomfort for many within Ettakatol and CPR, the time has come for both parties to quit the grousing and direly reassess their electoral standing. At this rate, their political horizons do not look good. This, by sheer nature of consequence, spells out an unfortunate future for the country's democratic aspirations. A pluralistic political landscape is not easily achieved, nor will it ever be a given boon to be assumed, particularly in Tunisia’s post-revolutionary context.

If CPR and Ettakatol members do not mobilize to fix their respective parties quickly enough, then Ennahda might be left as the only able party standing. Later, with the lack of viable competition, Islamists could be wrongly afforded the ability to usurp power and adopt hegemonic attitudes, imposing political and socioeconomic programs on all Tunisians. Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. The two secularist parties in the Troïka, along with smaller opposition parties, are currently the only check on Ennahda. The reorganization of Ettakatol and CPR will not only help their voter base gravitate towards actuating respective programs, but will serve as a guarantee for a pluralistic Tunisian society. 

On 9 September 2011, Mouad Belghouat, a 24 year old Moroccan rap musician, was passing out fliers to advertize for a demonstration in his impoverished neighborhood outside the cosmopolitan city of Casablanca.  On the evening he and his friends were handing out fliers for the upcoming march, Belghouat was approached by another young man, Mohamed Dali, later reported to be a member of the “Alliance of Young Royalists,” who verbally targeted Belghouat, calling him a traitor.  Belghouat himself is a member of the February 20^th movement, a coalition of activists that has been organizing demonstrations for over a year in Morocco, calling for greater democratic processes and limits to the king’s power. As Belghouat’s story goes, the men exchanged words only.  However, according to Dali, Belghouat physically attacked him from behind, causing him to sustain a head injury.  The same evening, Belghouat received a call from the police stating that Dali was pressing charges against him.

What is provocative about the story is not this discrepancy in the two young men’s versions, but it is the timing of the incident.  Exactly six months earlier, King Mohammed VI had suggested the possibility of a “peaceful revolution” in Morocco and that steps towards democratization in the country could be made by constitutional reform rather than revolutions like those in neighboring Tunisia, Egypt and Libya.  In his speech on 9 March, the king announced that one of the pillars of the new reforms would be to elevate the judiciary to an independent power, and he reinforced the supremacy of law in the country and the equality of all before it. Belghouat, alias El Haqed, was extremely critical of these reforms, believing that they did not go far enough to promote democracy and protect civil rights.  In his song “No More Silence,” he raps: “Those who suffered in silence and were dragged through the streets are fed up with going around in circles while our brother [the king] convenes his team to amend the constitution.  There’s something to go crazy over!”  Interestingly enough, Belghouat’s own imprisonments and subsequent conviction have provided an opportunity to scrutinize this reform. 

While Belghouat was formally arrested on charges of assault, he claims that he was interrogated not on his fight with Dali, but on the subversive nature of his rap.  After his initial interrogation, he has stated that the police let him go but admonished him to avoid the subject of the king in his songs.  After multiple delays in his trial, Belghouat was ultimately found guilty of the charges of assault and battery despite the fact that there was virtually no material evidence against him.  Although Dali had claimed to have gone to the hospital after the attack, the doctor allegedly refused to produce medical records.  Ultimately, the trial came down to Belghouat’s word against Dali’s.

One predominant translation of Belghouat’s alias “El Haqed” is “l’enragé,” or “the spiteful.”  This language conjures feelings of hate and rage; emotional reactions not motivated by reason.  That he would engage in an unprovoked attack – from behind no less - supports this view that Belghouat is prone to dangerous and underhanded behavior.  His attack on Dali could then be interpreted as another example of a member of an “angry mob” threatening the peace and security of an otherwise calm and contented society.  Because of his involvement with the February 20^th demonstrations, the entire movement becomes emblematic of spite and violence and their protests and demands become their own problem.  Where Belghouat has come to symbolize the February 20^th movement, Dali theoretically stands to represent the rest of the Moroccan population satisfied with a peaceful alternative to revolution and lends legitimacy to the Palace and the recent set of reforms.  Although they have made practically no mention of Belghouat’s case specifically, the mainstream media in Morocco has given much credence to the new set of reforms as well supported by the population.  In June, a few months after the reforms were proposed, L’Economiste, a French language daily, published a survey of Moroccan “youth” and concluded that while the results of the February 20^th movement were “contested,” most youth believed change would come from the constitutional reform.[1] 

This enthusiastic support for the new reforms is also characteristic of the position of the United States and Europe, where most reports have hailed the Moroccan “Arab Spring” model as a shining example for the rest of the region.  US Secretary of State Hilary Clinton welcomed the new reforms and congratulated the Moroccan people on these steps towards building democracy.  The European Union welcomed the reforms as well, a position that has been typical of the attitude towards Morocco in the past; the nation had been elevated to the status of “advanced” in relations with the EU in October 2008, giving it a preferred position in trade negotiations and allowing the Moroccan dirham to be linked to the Euro.  This outright support is not surprising, given the political interests of the Western nations.  Morocco has supplied reserves of cheap immigrant labor and mineral resources – primarily phosphates – and is linked to US political interests through a very public and forthright position as an ally in the war on terror.

In contrast to the Belghouat “the spiteful,” an alternate understanding of his persona is Belghouat “The Indignant.”  Belghouat as “indignant” implies an externality; one can’t be indignant with nothing about which to be indignant.  Indignation as well suggests certain righteousness in anger, that rather than irrational emotion, the source of rage is deeply rooted in a justified response to evils. One of the more memorable images to emerge during his imprisonment is that of supporters gathered outside of the prison holding a sign that declares, “We are all indignant.”  This indignation stems from a stagnation of real movement towards a more democratic and egalitarian Morocco and the most recent set of constitutional reforms still leave much to be desired in this arena.

The Reforms

Accounts of the recent reforms as well supported by the population were seemingly legitimized by numbers in the polls: the reforms were put to national referendum in June where they passed with a 98% approval, with voter turnout at a remarkably high 73%.  Upon closer inspection however, this endorsement is questionable at best.  In a country where only 54% of the adult population is literate, it is reasonable to assume that a good number of those who voted probably had little idea what they were approving.  Additionally, the vote was scheduled only three weeks after the new version of the constitution was published, allowing enough time for  a state sponsored advertising campaign to solicit a “yes” vote, but little time for opposition to organize.  The February 20^th movement did call for a boycott, vocally denouncing the reforms as being too weak in limiting the powers of the king, an act which, according to reports by Human Rights Watch, prompted routine police harassment.

Belghouat’s own father has said, “My son was set up.  The police and the ambulance turned up five minutes after the incident.  That never happens here.”  Omar Benjelloun, one of the fifteen lawyers representing Belghouat pro bono, claims that in 95% of assault cases the defendants were granted bail and that the law was with his client.  In an interview with daily newspaper “Le Soir,” Benjelloun said, “the judge tried to manage the unmanageable.  He tried to prove that justice is coherent…he himself believed in the innocence of Belghouat, but he retained the charge of assault and battery to save appearances.”  These statements reveal the different pressures put upon the law in Morocco with the ultimate power still resting in the hands of the king.  While Article 6 of the constitution echoes the king’s promises in his March speech and declares an independent judiciary, articles 56, 57, and 58 declare that the king presides as head of the Ministry of the Judiciary, nominates the Minister of Justice, and can issue royal pardons.  In Belghouat’s case, the judge had to choose between a not guilty verdict that would prove the independence of the judiciary but implicitly condone challenges to the king’s authority, or one that would send a message to activists that dissent would still not be tolerated under the new constitution.  By continuing to delay the trial and avoid sentencing Belghouat to further time in prison, he was also able to effectively deflect continued pressure from the international human rights community over Belghouat’s status as a prisoner of conscience. 

In addition to being the head of the Ministry of the Judiciary, the most recent version of the constitutional also reaffirms the king’s role presiding over the Council of Ulammas (religious council issuing fatwas,) parliament, judiciary council, his power to appoint half of the constitutional court, his position as commander-in-chief of the armed forces, and his all-purpose role of “the Supreme Representative of the State, Symbol of the unity of the nation, Guarantor of state continuity and sustainability, and Supreme Arbiter of institutions.”  This combination of both political supremacy and the institutionalization of religious authority ultimately fuses the king’s role as both traditional and supreme leader, reinforcing the notion of a completely centralized power, and allowing virtually no space for opposition in the formal political sphere.  Of course, this is completely antithetical to the democratic practices that were a focal point of the state’s discourse surrounding the new constitution, and is the primary focus of resistance for the February 20^th movement. 

The movement(s)

The February 20^th movement is often described as a “youth movement,” demonstrations have actually brought together a coalition of human rights groups, activists and Islamists.  For the past year, this group has been staging demonstrations around Morocco and most recently hundreds of thousands of protestors staged a march to commemorate the year anniversary of the movement.  The group lists demands on their Facebook page, calling for a separation of powers in government, further recognition of the indigenous Amazigh language and culture, liberation of all political prisoners and trial for those who have been involved in unjust arrest and practices of torture, integration of unemployed graduates into the economy, and improved social services for the poor.  They state: “These are the necessary conditions for the Moroccan people to gain true democracy and so that the citizenry can finally become the masters of their own destiny.” 

The Islamist faction of the group, Al Adl Wal’ihsane, has been outlawed for its anti-monarchist stance and activists from this group are regularly imprisoned and tortured.  The group’s figurehead Sheikh Abd Al-Salam Yassine criticized the monarchy for its failure to provide basic social benefits and economic opportunity, and in fact, the group has declared its insistence in operating outside the formal political sphere on the grounds of maintaining this oppositional position.  During a recent round of discussion on the reform of family law, the group was responsible for organizing a “million man march” to protest what it viewed as a westernization of the law; the group privileges an anti-imperialist rights rhetoric, claiming that Islamic values have been trampled by Western hegemony and that rights must be achieved for all Muslims before there is any hope of achieving rights for women.

Secular activists have been likewise targeted as enemies of the state.  Human Rights Watch recently released a report detailing police harassment of protesters who promoted a boycott of the referendum on the recent constitution, urging respect for civil rights in the public sphere and for a halt to trials for those protesters, contradicting reports from Morocco that no such trials are taking place.  Belghouat, who was declared a prisoner of conscience by Moroccan rights group l’Association marocaine des droits humains (AMDH), is but one of many activists regularly imprisoned in Morocco.  Rachid Niny, a popular columnist, had written very critically of the king’s advisory appointment and has been arrested on charges of “undermining a judicial decision;” he has been declared a prisoner of conscience by Amnesty International. 

The violent repression of resistance has also been typical of the monarchy in the past.  The “years of lead” during the rule of King Hassan II were characterized by routine attacks on both secular and Islamist activists, extended periods of detention, and torture.  While the new constitution was meant to bolster the current regime’s commitment to the respect of human rights, and did in fact formally outlaw torture, Belghouat has claimed that in Oukacha prison he saw obvious signs of torture, and he believes the prison is not intended for rehabilitation.  Despite the dangers activists have faced, protests continue.  Prior to December, both secular and Islamist factions marched together in protests calling for greater democratic practices, often drawing thousands of supporters.  However, the factions have since split because of apparently irreconcilable differences, opening up debate on the strength of solidarity in the broad February 20^th movement and potential of the future of resistance in the country.

Hope for the future?

Until the monarch’s power is diminished and authority is given to an independent judiciary, political dissent in Morocco remains a risky undertaking.  This is clear from the story of El Haqed and the dozens of other “prisoners of conscience” being held in Moroccan prisons.  Despite having served his initial sentence for assault, Belghouat was arrested again on March 30^th and charged with insulting public authorities.  In this instance, Belghouat was arrested for “showing contempt” towards public servants or institutions, once again highlighting the serious dangers of political dissent in Morocco.  Belghouat remains in prison after a most recent second postponement of his trial and faces a sentence of up to two years imprisonment.

Which actors are most likely to resist the current power structure and demand greater democracy in governance? A top down approach is difficult to imagine.  Ceding power to a truly independent judiciary would challenge the king’s role as arbiter of justice and severely undermine Mohammed VI’s claim to power. 

The international community has been effective in pressuring him to change specific sentences in cases where there have been human rights violations.  Because the Moroccan economy is dependent on Europe’s import market and in providing jobs that allow for a vast amount of remittance capital, as well as it relies on substantial aid packages from western Europe and the United States the international community has a significant amount of leverage to pressure the monarch for greater respect of human rights.  One such example is that of the “fake prince.”  In February 2008 Fouad Mourtada was sentenced to three years in prison for creating a fake Facebook page claiming to be the king’s brother, Moulay Rachid, but after intense pressure from human rights groups he was issued a royal pardon.  However, even in these instances, it has been the King himself who has ultimately commuted sentences, keeping his power intact.  And given the international community’s hearty stamp of approval on the new reforms, it is unlikely that demand for further change will come from this arena. 

Ironically, the newly appointed Minister of Justice, Mustapha Ramid, is an outspoken proponent of limiting the king’s powers, having stated that he believes the king should only intervene in politics in times of crisis or when laws passed by Parliament were unconstitutional.  However, his appointment is characteristic of the king’s history of co-option, casting a shadow on his ability to institute effective change.  The original Moroccan constitution was implemented to allow for a multiparty system in parliament; however this system has been most often exploited to encourage fragmentation among opposition parties.  Historically, during periods of “alternance” the king would choose a Prime Minister from opposition parties in efforts to control the discourse of the opposition. This tolerance and support for figures like Mustapha Ramid and Abdelilah Benkirane, the Prime Minister and head of the opposition Islamist Party of Justice and Development, is thus characteristic of years of dynastic preservation, and will more likely reinforce the king’s power rather than offer a legitimate challenge to it.

Civil society and activist groups in Morocco thus offer the greatest hope for progress towards democratization and protection of civil liberties in the country.  Belghouat’s renewed imprisonment, while it has highlighted once again the limits of the most recent set of reforms in achieving these results has also offered an opportunity for renewed challenge to these reforms. The words to No More Silence resonate now more than ever: “This is for all Moroccans.  To the free and those who refuse to be humiliated.  To those living in misery and injustice.  Wake up!  Look at the Egyptian people, and the people of Tunisia.  They’re lying to you those who say ‘Morocco you’re an exception.’  If the people want life, then they’ll stand up to defend their rights.  No more silence!”

Algeria

"Quand le FMI sollicite l'Algerie" The IMF is soliciting Algeria in hopes that it can assist the cash-strapped international institution.
"Islamist Party funding stirs up controversy in Algeria" Foreign funding for political campaigns from Islamist sources in Turkey and Qatar threaten to undermine upcoming elections.
"A second chance for Algeria's Islamists" Upcoming elections in Algeria may show that though democratic reforms have been made, voters may wish for further changes.
"Algeria, Tunisia strengthen unity" Leaders meet, increase ties, urging for cooperation on security threats in the region.
"جدل في الجزائر حول غرامة الامتناع عن التصويت"  Algerian's debate proposal to fine non-voters, some arguing that free and transparent elections are the only incentive needed to increase participation.
"More on Islamist Performance in Algeria” Factionalized state bureaucracies and parties are obscured by popular terms and references.

Libya

"Libya's Misrata sees slow return to normality" With city still in ruins, citizens say that government is not doing enough to rebuild the destroyed infrastructure.
"Libya: NTC Must Assert itself and Consign federalism to the Dustbin of History" NTC must come up with creative solution linking local politics to a central government, and giving authority to local politics while maintaining Libyan cohesion.
"The End of History in New Libya" While Qaddafi-era propaganda textbooks have been thrown out, a struggle remains to find new ones to replace them.
"Remember Libya?" Libya faces new challenges in policy in order to reel in and control militias, despite lack of assistance from the west due to focus shift to Syria.
"محمود جبريل: 3 سيناريوات لليبيا" Former Prime Minister Mahmoud Jibril discusses the increasing gap between the citizens and the transitional council, and other obstacles facing Libyans.

Mauritania

"Mauritania Snippets: protests, slavery, intrigue, human rights violations" Blogger Lissnup summarizes recent stories about Mauritania.
"Mauritania: Thousands of Refugees From Mali Facing Poor Conditions" Mauritania having a difficult time coping with the influx of 50,000 refugees from Mali crisis.
"Nouakchott : Des élèves manifestent pour de meilleures réformes éducatives" Students protest, demanding changes to the education system.  
"Mauritania: The Face of Modern Day Slavery" The Mauritanian Government and Mauritanian experts respond to CNN"s special report by highlighting the complexity of economic inequalities and employer-employee dynamics.
"Business, profits souterrains et stratégie de la terreur La recolonisation du Sahara" Strategic misrepresentations of the MNLA movement fall within colonial rhetoric and power-plays for the region's resources.

Morocco

"Morocco Wine Thrives in Face of religious ban's Heat" Strong investment in the 1990s, and investment from French producers has given Morocco a lucrative wine market.
"Morocco reforms are tested by case against rapper" The case against rapper El Haqed tests the supposed reformations of the Morocco government regarding freedom of expression.
"Morocco's Second Spring" Morocco’s promise of reform can only go so far if economic situation does not change in Morocco.
"Media Freedom in Morocco Takes a Backward Step" Comments by the justice minister trying to make state media more religious flies in the face of freedom of expression.
"Morocco Clamours for Justice" Lack of reforms in the justice system show gaps between rights on paper and rights in practice, and has led to corruption among judges.
"المغرب والفرنكوفونية... إلى أين؟" Analysis of the intersection between Morocco, the Maghreb, and France's literary legacy.
"Grabuge chez les politiques" Analysis of Feb 20 movement's effect on Morocco's party framework.  

Tunisia

"The Social Media Peace Corps" The reopening of Peace Corps in Tunisia is no replacement for the lack of adequate foreign policy in the North African region.
"Joblessness Threatens Tunisia" Interview with Tunisian President Moncef Marzouki outlines issues of unemployment, investment in Tunisia, and a potential new constitution.
"Political Violence Persists in Tunisia" Government enforcement against political violence lacking in the face of attacks on citizens from ultra-religious group.
"Tunisia Marks World Book Day" Cultural event gathers citizens with a silent protest and show importance of literature in burgeoning democracy.
"Tunisia: Corruption and nepotism like in the past, blogger" Tunisian blogger explains that in her opinion, corruption, and oppression have not really changed in the “New” Tunisia.
"Tunisia: “The Illusion of Islam” unveils the illusion of liberty" Families of two men accused of blasphemy speak about their public ostrasization.  
"The Beginnings of Transition: Politics and Polarization in Egypt and Tunisia" Examination of the intersection between diverse social and political groups, as well as their divides, at the "Transitions Dialogue" hosted by the Brookings Doha Center in January 2012.
“A quiet protest in Tunisia” Tunisians celebrate World Book Day by hosting the "Street Reads" on Habib Bourguiba Avenue.
"Le ministère de l’équipement couvre-t-il encore des affaires de malversation ?" Discussion of the sustained corruption across Tunisian institutions, particularly within the Ministry of Infrastructure.
 
Western Sahara

"The Western Sahara: forgotten first source of the Arab Spring" The issue of the Western Sahara, and this authors opinion that the UN and US have been neglecting the issue. 

Recent Jadaliyya articles on the Maghreb

El Haqed: Examining Morocco's Judicial Reform in 2012

Post-Ben Ali Partisan Developments in Tunisia: The Guarantor of Pluralism in a Nascent Democracy

The Malian Crisis Seen from Algeria

قراءة في الرحلة الرشدية بين شح الأمطار وشح الأفكار

[This is a roundup of news articles and other materials circulating on Syria and reflects a wide variety of opinions. It does not reflect the views of the Syria Page Editors or of Jadaliyya. You may send your own recommendations for inclusion in each week's roundup to syria@jadaliyya.com by Monday night of every week]

Regional and International perspectives

Coming to Terms with Assad’s Survival  Ibrahim al-Amin’s pessimistic outlook on the uprising

Damascus Between its Internal and External Fronts Salama Kayla’s last entry before his arrest; on Syrian scenarios and foreign interests.

New Republic: Smugglers on the Syrian Border Sophia Jones and Erin Banco on the human smuggling market at the Turkish-Syrian border

Covering Israel/Covering Syria As’ad Abukhalil exposes the double-standard in covering Israel and Syria

No Ceasefire in Syria, so what’s Next Joseph Olmert’s “if you can’t beat them, join them” approach to solving the Syria puzzle

Damascus: The Protocols of Annan’s Plan Nicolas Nassif describes how the Syrian regime views the Annan Plan

The Morning After  Patrick Seale suggests that the Arab Spring is merely a phase of the “long-aborted struggle for independence.”

Syria and Iraq: Armies, Politics and the Future  Hazem Saghieh’s assessment of how the Syrian and Iraqi contexts compare

Syria Street, Lebanon  Alia Brahimi on the ambivalent Lebanese response to the uprising

Sabra Short of Syrian Goods The economic consequences of the uprising are felt in the poorer Syrian-led markets of Beirut

Syria’s Ethnic Circassians Plea to Leave  Al-Jazeera reports on this Syria minority now asking for the help from the Russian government to go back to their ancestral lands.

Imperialism and the Left

Debating Syria John Feffer’s idea that negotiation has not started yet and that the discussion of a “plan B” in some media outlets is irrelevant.

The Militarization of the Syrian Uprising Samer Araabi’s detailed assessment of the uprising and its complications one year later

On Syrian narratives

Syrian Rebels Caught Embellishing on Tape Photojournalist Mani shows how some Syrian “activists” fabricated the news to embellish their side of the story.

Syria, Women and the Revolution A fresh outlook on the role of women in the uprising

Foreign Journalists: Visa Denied Shamine Narwani’s comments on the “sloppy” work of Western journalists covering Syria.

Syria's Field Hospitals: Al-Jazeera Reports from Northern Syria (Video) Anita McNaught visits secret clinics in Syria.

Homs Relief Campaign Obstructed by Security Forces An initiative from many opposition groups in Syria to bring relief to the people of Homs

Back from Syria, Journalist Anan Gopal Warns Protesters “Face Slaughter” by Assad Regime Anan Gopal returns from Northern Syrian towns and talks about the general pulse of the uprising there. 

Art and social media

Top Goon – Diaries of a Little Dictator: A Revolutionary Satirical Puppet Theatre Webseries Calling for Funds to Help it Produce a Second Season Puppet show satirizing the Assad government as a means of engaging people outside Syria in a conversation about the uprising.

Any Given Friday Amal Hanano on how “Facebook’s version of democracy” influenced the uprising.

Syria: The Musical Revolution Oliver Butenuth on the songs that mobilized the crowds during the uprising.

A Lesbian Tale: Challenging Syrian Censor Muhammad Khair Diab to release a movie on a love story between two women.

Policy and Reports

Security Council authorizes UN observer mission in Syria, Ban welcomes decision  Latest developments of the U.N. mission in Syria.

Arabic

دمشق بين الجبهتين الداخلية والخارجية
The recently detained author Salama Keyleh rejects the likelihood of the situation in Syria to lead to military intervention, or a war that would stop or solve the current unrest in the country. 

الحراك السوري: هل الحرب هي الطريق الأمثل إلى الديموقراطــية؟
Mohamad Shami offers his view of the current situation in Syria and emphasizes the importance for the people to dialogue with the regime. 

المواجهة مستمرة فوق الحلبة السورية
Mohammad Sayyed Rasas identifies the international implications of the situation in Syria and argues that the world is on a brink of renewed cold war.

الأكراد وعقدة المعارضة
The role of the Kurds in the Syrian uprisings.

ناشطات “المركز السوري للإعلام” يروين قصة اعتقالهنّ
Women activists from the Syrian Center for Information tell their stories about their arrest in Syria. 

اللاجئون الفلسطينيون في سوريا: قلق الوجود وجحيم النزوح
The Status of Palestinian refugees in Syria during the current uprisings. 

الفنان لطفي بوشناق: لا أستطيع أن أكون محايدا أمام الدماء وأرواح البشر التي تزهق!
An interview with artist and singer Lotfi Boushnaq about the situation in Syria. 

فرنسا والنظام السوري: سجل مراقصة الطغاة
Subhi Hadidi: the history of France's relations with the Syrian dictator.

الثورة السورية بين أيدي وسائل الإعلام
Rosa Yaseen Hassan presents the media's role in the politics of the Syrian revolution. 

الشعب لا يريد
Salma Idibli: The upcoming Syrian elections and the illusion that Syria is now "O.K."

[The following press release was issued by Front Line Defenders on Thursday, 26 April 2012, as Abdulhadi al-Khawaja’s status and whereabouts remain unverified. Today marks the 79^th day of his hunger strike.]  

PRESS RELEASE—for immediate release

On the 78th Day of Abdulhadi Al-Khawaja’s hunger strike in Bahrain, Front Line Defenders calls upon the Bahraini Minister of Interior, Lieutenant-General Sheikh Rashid bin Abdulla Al Khalifa, to provide a ‘proof of life’ to confirm that Abdulhadi is still alive.

Furthermore Front Line Defenders calls on the Minister to allow family visits, restore daily phone calls and update his family on his medical condition.

Since 1pm Monday no verification of his status has been possible. Abdulhadi’s wife has not received her normal daily phone call. Abdulhadi's lawyer has been denied access or any information on his whereabouts.

Mary Lawlor, Executive Director of Front Line Defenders noted, “In response to expressed concerns about his status, the only response from the Bahraini Ministry of Interior was a tweet saying he was in good health. After 78 days on hunger strike that is a remarkable statement considering conflicting evidence about his condition to date. The denial of information to Abdulhadi's family and lawyer is cruel and unjustifiable”.

Abdulhadi Al-Khawaja announced that he was refusing water or IV fluids on 21 April prompting grave fears that his medical situation would rapidly deteriorate. Front Line Defenders holds Lieutenant-General Sheikh Rashid bin Abdulla Al Khalifa personally responsible for the treatment of Abdulhadi in detention.

Front Line Defenders reiterates its call to the Bahraini government to release Abdulhadi to Denmark, on humanitarian grounds to receive medical treatment.

Abdulhadi Al-Khawaja was Protection Coordinator for the Middle East with Front Line Defenders for three years until February 2011 when he resigned to focus on the human rights situation in Bahrain.

The organization has repeatedly expressed its concern at the repeated failure of the Bahrain courts to make a ruling on whether he will be granted the right to a re-hearing. See previous statement by Front Line Defenders on this issue.

For further information please contact: Jim Loughran - Head of Media Front Line Defenders Tel + 353 1 212 37 50 Mobile +353 (0)87 9377586

تحمل الثورات العربية إلى اليسار مزيجاً من التحدي الوجودي والفرصة التاريخية. والفيصل بين الإثنين هو قدرة اليسار على التعلّم من الدروس البليغة التي تحملها العملية الثورية، وبلورة مشروعه ودوره فيها، وتدبّر كيفية الرد على تحدياتها. فلعل في ذلك ما يدفع اليسار إلى مغادرة مندبة النقد الذاتي، كفارة ذنوبه التي لا تنتهي، والاستعاضة عنها بمراجعة للماضي تسهم في فهم أفضل للموقع والدور في الحاضر وتساعد في صياغة إطلالة جديدة على المستقبل. هذا اذا كان بين اليساريين من يريد تجاوز تيارين في أوساطهم: يسار دعم الاستبداد بحجة المسألة الوطنية، ويسار الرهان على التدخل الخارجي سبيلاً إلى تحقيق الديمقراطية. 

أسهم اليسار، وشبابه خصوصاً، إسهاماً متواضعاً وإن يكن ذا أثر في الانتفاضات. ففي تونس ومصر واليمن، كان الشباب اليساري في طليعة المبادرين للنزول الى الشوارع واحتلال الساحات والميادين واطلاق شعار اسقاط الحاكم ونظامه. وتمكن هؤلاء الشباب من كسر حاجز الخوف، وتقدموا الصفوف مواجهين القمع والرصاص. في المغرب مثلاً، برزت حركة 20 فبراير التي أطلقت الموجة الشعبية الضاغطة من أجل الاصلاحات. وقد شذّت الحالة السورية بعض الشيء بسبب دور الاحزاب الشيوعية المتحالفة مع النظام، فبرز اليساريون وهم بالدرجة الاولى أولئك المنشقون عن تلك الاحزاب والناشطون بالصفات الفردية أو في مجموعات وتنظيمات صغيرة.

ومع أن اليساريين فازوا بعدد متواضع من الاصوات ومن المقاعد في الانتخابات النيابية في تونس ومصر، فقد بقي الوجه الابرز لنضالهم حاضراً  في مواقع الضغط الشعبي لتفكيك انظمة الاستبداد ومؤسساته وتشريعاته واستكمال تحقيق اهداف الثورة.

انتفاضات ضد النيوليبرالية 

إن شعار «الشعب يريد إسقاط النظام»، الذي حرّك عشرات الملايين من العرب من المحيط الى الخليج خلال العام ٢٠١١ ولا يزال يحركهم ويدفعهم لبذل لانواع التضحيات وصولاً إلى بذل الدم بسخاء، هو العلامة الفارقة على الطابع الديمقراطي والشعبي للانتفاضات وهدفها الجذري الأبرز. يعلن الشعارُ الشعبَ مصدراً للسلطات، ويعلي السيادة الشعبية على كل سيادة اخرى، فردية كانت أو سلالية أو حزبية أو عسكرية أو حاكمة بإسم الاجتهاد الديني. ويقطع بعجز الانظمة العربية القائمة عن إصلاح نفسها بنفسها مؤكداً أن السبيل الوحيد لتحقيق إرادة الشعب هو تغييرها بالقوة، قوة الشعب.

إلى جانب شعار «الشعب يريد» ارتفع شعار مكمّل له، لم يقلّ عنه شيوعاً، هو «عمل، حرية، خبز» الذي وضع حق العمل والعدالة الاجتماعية في صلب العملية الديمقراطية. الجديد في هذا الشعار هو المطالبة بالـ«العمل». ذلك أنه يشير إلى البطالة باعتبارها أحد الدوافع الرئيسة للانتفاضات، والمحفّز الحاسم لدور الشباب فيها. ومعلوم أن العالم العربي يحمل الارقام القياسية العالمية من حيث نسبة الشباب (١٥-٢٤ سنة) بين السكان، ونسبة البطالة إلى السكان (٣٠٪ على الأقل)، ونسبة البطالة بين الشباب (٤٤٪ من اجمالي العاطلين عن العمل). وتشير بطالة الشباب بدورها إلى الطابع الريعي المتزايد للاقتصاديات العربية في ظل العولمة الرأسمالية والاملاءات النيوليبرالية. وليس أدل على فضيحة تلك الاملاءات من أن يسارع مديرا صندوق النقد الدولي والبنك الدولي - تحت وطأة الثورتين التونسية والمصرية - إلى الاعتراف بأن نمو الناتج المحلي لا يقدم حلاً لمشكلة البطالة، علماً أنه كان المقياس الذي فرضته المؤسستان على مدى ربع قرن باعتباره المقياس الابرز لقياس الجدوى الاقتصادية ! وتزداد الفضيحة ضخامة اذا علمنا امرين: الاول، أن المؤسستين اللتين تتحكمان بحياة البشر المالية والاقتصادية، كانتا تقدمان تونس ومصر تحديداً كنموذجين يقتدى بهما من حيث النجاح الاقتصادي في ظل «الاصلاحات الهيكلية ». والثاني، أنه يتعين توفير ٥١ مليون فرصة عمل في العالم العربي بحلول العام ٢٠٢٠، حسب تقديرات «وكالة التنمية» التابعة للامم المتحدة للعام ٢٠٠٩. فأي اقتصاديات تلك التي تقدر على إنتاج فرص عمل بهذه الكثرة؟ وأي تحدّ أكبر من هذا التحدي لثورات يراد لها، ولمن سوف يحكمون بإسمها، أن تبقى محصورة في الحيّز السياسي وحده.

حقيقة الامر أن الانتفاضات تشكل موجة من المقاومات الشعبية المشتركة لمفاعيل النيوليبرالية بعد أكثر من ربع قرن على مباشرة تطبيقها في المنطقة. وهذا ما يفسّر، إلى جانب عوامل اخرى، شمولها هذا العدد من البلدان العربية في وقت واحد. 

ولا فصل هنا بين دوافع اجتماعية ودوافع سياسية. فقد ترافقت وتيرة تطبيق الاجراءات النيوليبرالية مع تركّز متزايد للسلطة والثروة في أيدي العائلات والمجمعّات المافيوية-الامنية المرتبطة بالقطاع المالي-العقاري-المقاولاتي، سواء في الانظمة الدكتاتورية العسكرية المتحدرة من حركات التحرر الوطني، أو في الانظمة الريعية السلالية المسيطرة على الاقتصاديات النفطية. ولم يكن صدفة أبداً أن يؤدي هذا التزاوج بين الاستبداد والنيوليبرالية إلى تغليب الدور القمعي للدولة على أي دور آخر كوسيلة رئيسة للضبط الاجتماعي والسياسي. فهو سمة مشتركة بين أنظمة البلدان التي طبّقت فيها إملاءات البنك الدولي وصندوق النقد. وترافق تركّز الثروة، والتخلي عملياً عن أي جهد تنموي، في ظل نمو الحرمان والتهميش والفقر، مع تنامي الهدر ونهب المال العام، ومع إعادة تصدير عائدات النفط والغاز إلى المراكز الرأسمالية حيث توظّف في تمويل المديونية الاوروبية والاميركية، أو في دعم عملاتها أو الاستثمار في القطاعات المختلفة، هذا عندما لا تجري استعادة البترودولارات الخليجية عن طريق تمويل الحروب ومبيعات السلاح بارقامها المليارية والمواد الاستهلاكية الفاخرة الفاحشة. 

لقد كشفت فضائح الحكام العرب المخلوعين، والعشرات بل المئات من مليارات الدولارات التي راكمها كل منهم، همجية تسخير السلطة السياسية في سبيل الاثراء عن طريق نهب المال العام وفرض العمولات على المشاريع الاقتصادية واقتطاع حصص مباشرة من عائدات النفط، والسيطرة على الصناديق السيادية، ناهيك عن التهريب وتبييض الاموال. حدث كل هذا في الوقت الذي حادت فيه الحملة ضد «الفساد» عن فضائح وهموم تلك المنهبة. إذ جنحت للترويج للخصخصة بحجة ترهّل البيرقراطيات الحكومية، ووظفت نظريات «الموازنات المتوازنة » كمبررات للاعفاءات الضرائبية على رجال الاعمال والاغنياء وإلقاء المزيد منها على الجمهور بواسطة الضرائب غير المباشرة، فيما قضت سياسات «التقشف» على دعم الدولة للسلع والمواد الاساسية وقلّصت دورها في التوزيع والرعاية الاجتماعيين إلى حدوده الدنيا. 

الديمقراطية هي الطريق الى الاشتراكية

في عالم عربي هذه بعض تداعيات وقع العولمة النيوليبرالية عليه، وتلك تحديات ثوراته الشعبية، لا بد لليسار أن يستعيد مشروعه المجتمعي كاملاً وأن يعيد به إنتاج استقلاله الفكري سبيلاً للوصول إلى استقلاله السياسي والتنظيمي والسلوكي. هذا إن هو أراد البقاء على قيد الحياة والمنافسة في كسب الرأي العام والجماهير الشعبية التي يفترض به تمثيل مصالحها الأكثر جذرية. 

وحتى لا نتجاهل السؤال التقليدي «ماذا يعني أن تكون يسارياً الآن؟»، يمكن القول أن اليساري هو من يحاول الربط بين قيمتي الحرية والمساواة. وهو الذي يعي، في ظروف بلادنا الخاصة، أن تحقيق الديمقراطية السياسية مهمة تاريخية متكاملة تتطلب تفكيك أنظمة الاستبداد واستبدالها بأنظمة ومؤسسات وتشريعات جمهورية ديمقراطية مدنية. واليساري هو من يدرك، بناء على الدروس الاليمة للتجربة اليسارية ذاتها، أن تجاوز سلبيات الديمقراطية السياسية لا يتم بدكتاتورية تقمع الحرية دون أن تحقق المساواة، وإنما بتعزيز الحرية بالمساواة، أي بتحرير الديمقراطية من سطوة رأس المال وتطويرها نحو الديمقراطية الاقتصادية والاجتماعية. 

بهذا المعنى، فمبرر وجود متجدد لليسار في العالم العربي هو دفع الثورات الديمقراطية إلى نهاياتها المتساوقة، وتطعيم الديمقراطية السياسية بالديمقراطية الاجتماعية عن طريق المساهمة في حلّ التناقض بين المساواة السياسية للمواطنين في الدولة واللامساواة بينهم في المجتمع، وهي اللامساواة الناجمة عن الفوراق والامتيازات الطبقية بينهم. 

إن الديمقراطية هي الطريق إلى الاشتراكية. والحد الأدنى المشترك بين الاشتراكيين لمدلول المفردة هو الاقتناع بأن هذا النظام الرأسمالي ليس نهاية التاريخ، ولا هو خاتمة الطموح الانساني. بل إن التاريخ نفسه، بما فيه انجازات الرأسمالية ذاتها، بات يسمح بتجاوز الرأسمالية. فقد بلغت البشرية درجة من التطور وفرت من الموارد، والثروات، والمعارف ما يسمح بسدّ الحاجات الاساسية لجميع سكان المعمورة من عمل، ومعاش، وسكن، وعلم، وصحة، وبيئة نظيفة وآمنة. وإن العقبة الاساسية أمام تحقيق تلك المهمة التاريخية هي الملكية الفردية ومبدأ الربح، الركيزتان الاساسيتان للنظام الرأسمالي. وليس أدلّ على هذه الحقيقة من الارقام التي تتداولها وكالات الامم المتحدة للتنمية من أن عشرة بالمئة فقط من ثروات أول مئة من أغنياء العالم كفيلة بسد تلك الحاجات.

على أن هذه الحقيقة لا تعفي الاشتراكية والاشتراكيين من التحدي الاكبر الذي تكشفت عنه تجارب «الاشتراكية المتحققة». نقصد كيفية حلّ المعادلة التاريخية الصعبة، معادلة زيادة إنتاج الثروة من أجل تأمين المزيد من العدالة والمساواة في توزيعها. لا توجد وصفات جاهزة، بل توجد محاولات حل تستحق الدرس منها تجربة حزب العمال البرازيلي في الحكم خلال العقدين الاخيرين. 

مشروع  لعصر العولمة

إن استعادة اليسار لمشروعه المجتمعي كاملاً، يضعه أمام امتحان ادواته النظرية لانتاج المعارف عن عصر العولمة بآليات تشغيله واتجاهاته الرئيسية وخصوصاً عن وقعه المميز على المنطقة. والمفارقة الملفتة هنا هي ضعف الجهد الفكري والاقتصادي حول موقع المنطقة العربية من العولمة باختلاف جوانبها الاقتصادية والاجتماعية والسياسية والثقافية. ولعل أولى نقاط الاستدلال على هذا الطريق هي النقاط التالية:

أولا، تعيين الاطار العام لخصوصية صلة المنطقة بالعولمة من خلال وجود ركيزتين للامبريالية المعاصرة فيها:    ١) آليات الاستحواذ على الموارد والثروات الطبيعية - النفط والغاز خصوصاً - وإعادة تصدير عائداتها الى المراكز الاوروبية والاميركية؛ ٢) انفراد المنطقة دون سائر مناطق العالم، بوجود مشكلة من بقايا العهد الكولونيالي هي الاستعمار الاستيطاني العنصري لفلسطين، المستمر في قضم الاراضي والاستيطان على كامل فلسطين التاريخية إلى يومنا هذا، عدا عن توسعيته واحتلاله اراضي الجوار. 

ثانياً، استكشاف الطبيعة المتناقضة للعولمة بظواهرها الجديدة من مَنْهَبة الفقاعة المالية واخطارها التدميرية، إلى نقل الصناعات إلى بلدان الجنوب للقرب من المواد الاولية والأيدي العاملة الرخيصة، وهي ظاهرة لم تسهم في الحد من البطالة والفقر في بلدان الجنوب التي استقبلت الصناعات المنقولة، بل أطلقت موجات غير مسبوقة من الهجرة في تلك البلدان نحو بلدان الشمال. ومن تناقضات العولمة المثيرة للجدل توحيدها العالم، في الزمان والمكان، عبر ثورة الاتصالات والمعلوماتية المذهلة من جهة، وتذريره في الآن ذاته الى كيانات وولاءات ما دون الدولة من جهة ثانية.  

ثالثا، استجلاء الوجه الجديد لأممية تَعِد بأنماط جديدة من التضامن والترابط بين بلدان الجنوب. نعني عولمة بديلة، تقوم على التقاء المصالح بين المتضررين من الامبريالية المعاصرة ومن احتكار الشركات العابرة للجنسيات ومن آليات التبادل والتطور غير المتكافئين بين اجزاء العالم، عولمة بديلة تطمح لبناء عالم يتسع لما فيه من عوالم، متحرراً من العنصرية والمجاعات والفقر والحروب وخطر الفناء النووي، عالم يوفر الحد الادنى اللائق من الحياة لجميع أبنائه، بدلا من ضمان الثراء الفاحش الهادر للواحد بالمئة على حساب التسعة والتسعين الباقين. 

ديمقراطية علمانية ذات همّ اجتماعي

لا جديد في القول ان الثورات الراهنة محط نزاع على مستويين:

المستوى الاول هو النزاع الناجم عن التدخّل الخارجي، متعدد الاشكال والاطراف، الساعي للحفاظ على الانظمة القائمة ولو بالقوة عندما يتعلّق الامر بدائرة أمن النفط. ولكنه يتكيّف مع الانتفاضات الجارية في أقطار اخرى، من أجل استيعابها وانتزاع نصلها الحاد عن طريق التضحية برموز الحكم، والارتضاء بمقادير من التعددية السياسية والاعلامية، مع الحفاظ على الركائر العسكرية للسلطة، وعلى أولوية الجهاز التنفيذي والعمل على إخراج الجماهير من دائرة الفعل والضغط. ولا تمانع قوى التدخل الخارجي هذه في تجديد الاطقم الحاكمة طالما أنها تضمن المصالح الامنية والجيواستراتيجية للامبريالية المعاصرة وتنفذ السياسات الاقتصادية سارية المفعول. 

اما مستوى النزاع الآخر، فهو مع قوى سياسية إسلامية ترى في الانتفاضات، وفي حيازة أكثريات برلمانية، الفرصة الذهبية للارتداد على ما تبقى من تشريعات مدنية وعلمانية في الدول العربية المعنية. هذا عدا عن استعدادها التنازل عن موجبات الحد الادنى من التضامن مع قضية الشعب الفلسطيني من أجل كسب الشرعية الخارجية، الأوروبية والأميركية، ناهيك عن انحيازها النيوليبرالي، ومحافظتها الاجتماعية، وسعيها لإحلال المعارك الرمزية محل الحل الفعلي للقضايا الاجتماعية والاقتصادية المستفحلة. 

في المقابل، حري باليسار التمسك بأبرز رسالة تبثها الانتقاضات ومفادها أن التحويل الديمقراطي يجب أن يتم بواسطة الشعب، وبقوى الشعب الذاتية، ومن أجل الشعب. وترجمة ذلك هو إرساء المشروع الديمقراطي لليسار على الأسس التالية:

١. تشريع المساواة السياسية والقانونية للمواطنين ورفض التمييز بينهم على أساس الجنس والدين والمذهب والاثنية .

٢. انبثاق السلطة التنفيذية عن السلطة التشريعية وخضوعها لها ومسؤوليتها تجاهها، وسيادة مبدأ فصل السلطات.

٣. اعتبار الحقوق الاجتماعية - العمل، والمعاش، والسكن، والتعليم، والصحة، والبيئة النظيفة الآمنة - حقوقاً طبيعية من حقوق الانسان. ذلك أن الديمقراطية التي لا توفر عملاً ولا تضمن خبزاً تدعو أول غاصب للسلطة إلى وأدها. 

٤. الحياد الديني للدولة على هيئة تدبير سياسي يحقق عدم تدخل المؤسسات الدينية في شؤون الدولة، وعدم تدخل الدولة في شؤون المؤسسات الدينية. ويترجم هذا الحياد في رفض زجّ المقدس - القائم على معادلتي التحريم والتحليل؛ وحقوق الله مقابل واجبات الانسان -  في السياسة التي تقوم تعريفاً على الاجتهادات والخلافات وتعدد الخيارات. وتؤكد هذه النظرة أن العلمانية ملحق من ملحقات الديمقرطية، لا العكس، تعتمد المرجعية الزمنية والمدنية للتشريع، أي صدوره عن مؤسسات السيادة الشعبية، سواء أكانت المجالس التمثيلية أو الاستفتاءات الشعبية. ويقتضي الالتزام العلماني، في هذه المرحلة الانتقالية بالذات، إقران أي تنازل يقدّم للتشريع الديني في الاحوال الشخصية بتشريع مدني اختياري مقابل.

منظور جديد للوحدة العربية

انه لأمر ذو دلالة كبيرة أن يؤدي سقوط الحكم الفردي في ليبيا وتونس إلى إعادة تفعيل سريعة لمشروع الوحدة المغاربية بين بلدان المغرب العربي. لقد توجّت الوحدات العربية المسخّرة للسيطرة الداخلية تاريخاً من الفشل لصيغ «القطر القائد » و«الوحدات الاندماجية» والتوحيد القسري ولو بالحرب، كما في حالة اليمن، أو تشريع الانفصال في صفقة تحافظ على سلطة الحاكم فيما تبقى من البلاد، كما في حالة السودان، عداك عن الفشل في الحفاظ على المشاريع الوحدوية أو حتى العجز عن تحقيق وحدة سورية والعراق عندما كان هناك حزب قومي واحد يحكم البلدين. 

لا بد من منظور جديد للوحدة العربية يحررها من إشكالية الهويات ومن الاستبدادية.  ذلك أن المدى العربي لا يزال هو المدى الوحيد لتحرر المنطقة والسيطرة المشتركة على مواردها، وثرواتها، ومقدراتها، ومصائرها، وتحقيق التنمية الفعلية لصالح جميع ابنائها وانتزاع مكانة تليق بهم وبها بين الأمم. وهذه أهداف تتزايد الحاجة إليها والعوامل المساعدة على تحقيقها في آن معاً نظراً لما يفرضه عصر العولمة من تحديات تدفع باتجاه بناء التكتلات الاقليمية. في سبيل تحقيق ذلك، تملك البلدان العربية - إضافة الى اللغة والتراث والتاريخ المشترك - من الثروات الطبيعية العظيمة الأهمية -- من نفط وغاز ومعادن ومياه - ما يكفي لتحقيق تنمية إنسانية قائمة على قيمة العمل والانتاج تهدف لتوفير الحد الادنى من الحياة اللائقة لكل مواطنيها، بأقل كلفة على القوى البشرية.

ويرى هذا المنظور في الوحدة العربية مشروعاً طوعياً قيد البناء، يتحقق عبر مسار زمني من التعاون والتكامل ويعيد الاعتبار للمصالح والتطلعات المشتركة للشعوب. فيبدأ من تنمية التبادل التجاري بين الدول العربية، وهو من أخفض المعدلات في العالم، ويمرّ عبر خطوات على طريق التكامل الاقتصادي وبناء السوق المشتركة قبل أن يتوّج المسار بأشكال مختلفة من التكامل السياسي والمؤسساتي. 

والعالم العربي قابل بالمقدار ذاته لأن يتسع لكل مكوناته البشرية بغض النظر عن الانتماءات والفوارق الاثنية والاقوامية والدينية والمذهبية. فقد انتهى أيضا التصوّر الذي يقرن الوحدة الوطنية بالمركزية السلطوية. وما أدى إليه من ممارسات عمقت عوامل التفتيت الداخلي، واستدرجت النزعات الاهلية والدعوات الانفصالية وما تمخض عنها من حروب واقتتال.  

في سبيل تعاقد جديد بين مكوّنات الشعوب العربية، يحمل اليسار إسهاماً من نقطتين: تقول الاولى إن تكريس المواطنة المتساوية يشكل حلاً ضرورياً ولكنه ليس هو دائما الحل الكافي للتعاطي مع جدل الاكثرية/الاقلية. فكيفما تقلبّت أدوار التمييز والغلبة بينهما، فقد لا تستقيم في بعض الاحيان دون تصحيح المظالم التاريخية باقتران المواطنة بالاعتراف بحقوق الجماعات في تقرير المصير. 

ويقترح اليسار في النقطة الثانية أن ارتداد الناس إلى الانتماءات الاولية (عائلية، مذهبية، دينية، مناطقية، اثنية، الخ) كخط دفاع أخير عن النفس، غالبا ما يتم للاحتجاج على تمييز ضدهم فيما يتعلق بالموقع من السلطة، والسيطرة على الموارد الطبيعية، وتوزيع الثروة، وخدمات الدولة. ويتم هذا الارتداد، وربما بشراسة أكبر، عندما يتعلق الامر بالدفاع عن امتيازات ومواقع استئثار وامتياز مكتسبة في السلطة والثروة من خلال تلك الانتماءات الاولية. من هنا، فإن تأمين الحقوق الاجتماعية الاساسية، وتحقيق التنمية المناطقية المتوازنة، والتوزيع العادل للثروة ولخدمات الدولة يعد عناصر مكمّلة للحلول القائمة على المواطنة المتساوية والحق في تقرير المصير.

التنظيم والوسائل

كشفت الانتفاضات الشعبية عن مدى قصور نمطين من أنماط التمثيل الاجتماعي-السياسي: الاحزاب السياسية،  ومنظمات المجتمع الاهلي. لقد اهترأ دور الحزب الطليعي الانقلابي، القائم على التراتب الأوامري الداخلي، وعلى العلاقة الاستعلائية التربوية تجاه الشعب قبل أن تجهز عليه الانتفاضات. لكن خصائصه هذه تجلّت على نحو همجي غير مسبوق في الممارسات الدموية خلال الانتفاضات. 

لقد آن أوان الاحزاب الجماهيرية، الممثلة لكتل من المصالح والمعبّرة عن التطلعات الشعبية عبر البرامج والسياسات، أحزاب هي وسائل وليست أهدافاً بذاتها. ولكن يبقى على الاحزاب الجديدة أن تظهر الكثير من التخيل والابتكار في مجال الديمقراطية الداخلية، واستنباط الوسائل النضالية المتلائمة مع المعارك والمنافسات في ظل الانظمة الانتخابية والديمقراطية. 

لقد وضعت الانتفاضات المنظمات غير الحكومية أمام امتحان يراجع ربع قرن من مممارسات لم تخضع لمراجعة جادة. ففي حين برزت معظم منظمات حقوق الانسان في أدوار جد ايجابية، بدت الانتفاضات كأنها «تصحيح بواسطة الممارسة » في موضوع التحويل الديمقراطي خصوصاً. فوضعت صيغة «الشعب/النظام» في مواجهة صيغة «الدولة/المجتمع المدني» التي غلب عليها التفسير النيوليبرالي. وأعادت الانتفاضات تجميع قضايا المجتمع وإقامة الصلات فيما بينها، في مقابل تذريرها إلى دزينة من القطاعات المتفرقة في فكر وممارسة المنظمات غير الحكومية. أضف الى هذا أن عمل العدد الاكبر من هذه الاخيرة اقتصر على التبشير بالديمقراطية والتدريب والتربية عليها في تجاهل لشروط تحقيقها عبر الفعل السياسي أو استبعاد دور الضغط الشعبي في ذلك. 

عبّرت الثورات عن مشاركة فئات اجتماعية لا تتسع لها الأطر الحزبية والنقابية، القائمة على الاساس المهني أو السياسي، ولا تكفي منظمات حقوق الانسان للتعبيرعنها وتمثيلها كالطبقات الوسطى، والشباب، والنساء، والعاطلين عن العمل، الفقراء ومهمشي الارياف وسكان العشوائيات، وغيرهم. تتجه هذه الشرائح نحو أشكال جديدة من الحركات الاجتماعية تستحق الدراسة. والاهم هنا هو أن الانتفاضات قدمت مساهمات ثمينة للعمل الشعبي من خلال ابتكارها اشكالاً من التنظيم والتحرّك القاعدية من تنسيقيات الاحياء وائتلافات شبابية ولجان شعبية للعمل البلدي وهيئات للعاطلين عن العمل وسواها. والملفت جداً ان هذه الاشكال الحداثية ترافقت مع إعادة استنباط كافة الأشكال والهيئات التقليدية للتضامن والتكافل الأهليين، الريفي منه والمديني.

وأخيراً، زخرت الانتفاضات بإبداعات العبقرية الشعبية من أشكال للنضال استخدمت من الموارد والأدوات ووسائل الاعلام والاتصال والإيصال أرقاها، وأحيت في الآن ذاته من عناصر ثقافتها الشعبية الأبدع والأكثر تأثيراً وتعبئة للناس وتأجيجاً للمشاعر من حىاء وغِناء وإنشاد ورقص جمعي. على أن العبقرية الشعبية ليست هي الخاتمة بل هي الإلهام الدائم.

سوف نتناول موضوع العلاقة بين قضية فلسطيني الصراع العربي الاسرائيلي من جهة وبينالانتفاضات الديمقراطية العربية في نص لاحق لضيق المجال عن تناول مفصّل لهذا الموضوع الحساس. 

 [ عن مجلة "بدايات". تنشر "جدلية" هذا المقال ضمن سلسلة من المقالات سننشرها بالإتفاق مع مجلة "بدايات" الصادرة حديثاً في بيروت.] 

حتى تاريخ كتابة هذه السطور، نعد نحن المواطنون المصريون الذين ننوي مقاطعة الانتخابات الرئاسية الوشيكة أقلية. يتهمنا الكثيرون بالسلبية وأرى أن قرارنا هو عين الإيجابية بلا شك. بل إنني أرى أن من كانوا معنا على نفس الدرب ثم تركوه، من هتفوا معنا «لا انتخابات تحت حكم العسكر» فى يناير وفبراير، ثم تراجعوا وتنازلوا عن المبدأ، واستمر حكم العسكر، هم السلبيون باستسلامهم لوضع يتسم بالخلل.

لطالما حلمت بأن تجري فى مصر انتخابات رئاسية يختار من خلالها الشعب رئيسه، لكن حلمي كان، ولا يزال، أكبر من مجرد مسرحية تتم فى إطار غير ديمقراطي أصلاً، وفي أجواء تتسم بالقمع والديكتاتورية، إضافة إلى انعدام المنطق، والعوار القانوني، والشكوك حول نزاهة الانتخابات ومصداقية العملية الانتخابية برمتها.  

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يعتقد الكثيرون أنه رغم تردي الأوضاع الحالية وبعدها عن أهداف الثورة فإن وجود رئيس منتخب يتسم بالحنكة والقوة سيحل الأمر، فالبعض يأمل في أن يكون ذلك الرئيس المرتقب هو القائد والزعيم الذي سينتصر على قوى الثورة المضادة ويعبر بالبلاد إلى بر الأمان. لكني أرى ذلك الافتراض أملاً فى غير محله، فلقد ثبت على مدار أكثر من عام ــ منذ تولي المجلس الأعلى للقوات المسلحة للحكم ــ أن كل خطوة تسير فيها مصر تحت الحكم العسكري يشوبها الخلل وتؤدي للإضرار بالمصالح العامة، وإلى المزيد من البعد عن أهداف الثورة.

ولنا فى الانتخابات البرلمانية عبرة: فقد كانت هناك دعاوى ضعيفة طرحت لمقاطعة انتخابات مجلس الشعب من منطلق عدم الثقة فى انتخابات تجري تحت الحكم العسكري وعدم الاقتناع بجدوى البرلمان فى ظل تركز السلطة في قبضة العسكري في كل الأحوال. لكن للأسف تم تجاهل تلك الدعاوى، وإشاعة الأمل فيما اعتبر مؤسسة ديمقراطية منتخبة لها شرعية في مقابل قوة العسكري. إلا أنه مع مرور الوقت اتضح أن الداعين للمقاطعة كانوا على حق، فلا البرلمان قادر على شيء، ولا الديمقراطية تحققت ولو جزئيا، ولم ينازع النواب المنتخبون العسكري سلطته – التى ثبت أنها لا تهتز إلا بالميادين والحراك الثوري، وليس من خلال خارطة طريق اصطنعها العسكر فضلل بها الثوار وفرقهم، تاركاً الشعب فى حالة من التشوش والالتباس حول الشأن القانوني والدستوري.

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هذا التشوش ساهم فى إلهاء الناس باللغط المثار حول كون المرشحين «ثوريين بجدارة أم فلول»، مصريي الأب والأم أم منحدرين من ذوى جنسيات مزدوجة، وغير ذلك من المواضيع الفرعية التي تبعدنا عن مربط الفرس، ألا وهو ماهية المنصب الذي ترشح له المرشحون أصلاً، طبيعة منصب رئيس الجمهورية الذي يتنافس عليه المتنافسون وحجم صلاحياته، وما إذا كان الرئيس سيتولى السلطة التنفيذية فى اطار نظام رئاسي يفصل بين السلطتين التشريعية والتنفيذية، أم أنه سيشغل منصباً شرفياً بصلاحيات محدودة جداً في نظام برلماني تندمج فيه السلطتان تحت سيطرة حزب الأغلبية. 

حتى ولو كان بعض مرشحي الرئاسة ثوريين، فإن ثوريتهم ستكون محدودة الفائدة بسبب جهلهم بصلاحيات منصب الرئيس والتي من الأرجح أن تظل مبهمة مع استمرار المجلس العسكرى فى الحكم. هذا هو الحال فى مجلس الشعب الذي لا يخلو من النواب الثوريين الذين كتفت أيديهم وأهدرت طاقاتهم فى برلمان عبثي، يتخذ قرارات ثم يعجز عن تنفيذها، مثل قرار سحب الثقة من حكومة الجنزوري الذى ووجه بالرفض من قبل الحكومة والعسكر، حيث ردوا على البرلمان بأنه ليس من اختصاصاته سحب الثقة من الحكومة، ودخل الجميع فى جدل عقيم لا نهاية له حول حدود صلاحيات البرلمان. لذا يؤخذ على مرشحي الرئاسة أنهم قطعوا على أنفسهم وعوداً فى برامج انتخابية رغم أنهم يجهلون إن كان منصب الرئيس سيخوله سلطات تمكنه من الايفاء بتلك الوعود أم لا.

لو كان الدستور (سواء أكان دائماً أو مؤقتاً) وضع أولاً، كما كان يقترح البعض، لكان حدد نوع النظام السياسي ووزع الصلاحيات بين السلطات بشكل واضح لا يدع مجالا للشك أو لتعدد التفسيرات والرؤى من قبل القوى السياسية والخبراء الدستوريين. لكن التعديلات الدستورية المبهمة التي تم إجراؤها على دستور 71 والإعلان الدستوري، تركانا فى حالة من البلبلة المستمرة التي تعيد إلى الأذهان ما حاول مبارك ورجاله أن يفعلوه بنا أثناء الـ18 يوماً الأولى للثورة، عندما كان المطلب الأساسي هو رحيل الرئيس (مبارك آنذاك)، فكانوا يحاولون صرفنا عن مسار الشرعية الثورية ووضعنا فى حلقة مفرغة من السفسطة والإشكاليات القانونية العبثية، مثل من يحق له دستورياً أن يخلف الرئيس فى حالة تنحيه، أهو رئيس مجلس الشعب أم نائب رئيس الجمهورية، وتحذير عمر سليمان الشهير حول «الفراغ الدستوري» الذى كان يقال إن رحيل مبارك سيخلفه. 

نفس التشويش يربكنا الآن ــ فمنذ مارس الماضى وحتى الآن تتضارب تفسيرات مواد التعديلات الدستورية والاعلان الدستوري، فتارة يقال لنا إن الانتخابات الرئاسية يجب أن تجرى قبل وضع الدستور، ثم يعود من قالوا ذلك ويؤكدون أن الأصح هو أن يوضع الدستور ليحدد مهام منصب الرئيس. وهكذا فقدت ما يطلق عليها «خارطة الطريق» مصداقيتها (وهو تطور طبيعى لعملية بدأت بترقيع دستور عصر مبارك الذي قامت ثورة لتبيده) وبالتالى فقدت انتخابات الرئاسة المرتقبة مصداقيتها ودواعي الثقة فيها. هذا بالإضافة لإشكالية المادة 28 والتي أثارت تخوف الكثيرين حول نزاهة وشفافية العملية الانتخابية، فقد أعلن البعض بالفعل أنهم لن يقبلوا نتيجة الانتخابات لعدم ثقتهم فى المجلس العسكري الذى ستجري الانتخابات تحت حكمه.

●●●

لذا فلقد عزمت على مقاطعة الانتخابات الرئاسية والامتناع عن السير على خارطة طريق معيبة، وتلفيق حلول وسط تفرغ الثورة من مضمونها، وتقديم تنازلات تكرس القبول بقلة حيلة الثورة إزاء العسكر. والتزمت بالمبدأ: لا دستور تحت حكم العسكر، ولا انتخابات تحت حكم العسكر.

[عن جريدة "الشروق" المصرية.]

Mara Naaman, Urban Space in Contemporary Egyptian Literature: Portraits of Cairo. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2011.

[This review was originally published in the most recent issue of Arab Studies Journal. For more information on the issue, or to subscribe to ASJ, click here.]

In January and February of 2011, Egyptians descended upon public squares throughout the country to bring an end to the thirty-year regime of Husni Mubarak. For those eighteen days—and on many other occasions throughout the following year—the people of Egypt wrested control of public space from the physical and discursive grip of Mubarak’s police state and reconfigured the material and symbolic spaces of their cities to express a revolutionary vision of subjectivity, community, and citizenship. Cairo’s Tahrir square—and its downtown environs—was of course the most visible and most symbolically charged center of these insurgent acts of occupation and celebration, and the whole world watched in wonder and trepidation as Egyptians struggled to forge a new and radical language of being-in-the-world.

Mara Naaman’s timely book, Urban Space in Contemporary Egyptian Literature: Portraits of Cairo, was published during that heady year (and includes a brief postscript referring to the events of the revolution). The book addresses the production of urban space in the modern Egyptian literary imagination and offers the reader an erudite and engaging analysis of four acclaimed novels that all take Cairo’s downtown as their main setting. Naaman’s exploration of the sometimes utopian, sometimes brutal and bloody history of dreams, desires, and struggles that have shaped this seminal space in modern fiction and architectural practice subtly and persistently evokes the ghost of a future become the present. The book is thus important reading for anyone seeking to understand the affective power of “Liberation Square” within the context of modern Egyptian history and cultural production.

The book includes a preface, introduction, five chapters, and a conclusion. The preface, introduction, and chapter one set out the main conceptual and historical framework within which Naaman situates her literary readings. Chapters two through five each deal with a contemporary novel by a leading Egyptian author—Radwa ‘Ashur’s A Piece of Europe (2003), Khayri Shalabi’s Salih Hisa (2000), Idris ‘Ali’s Poor (2005), and Alaa al-Aswany’s The Yacoubian Building (2002)—while the conclusion, “Wust al-Balad as Neo-Bohemia: Writing in Defense of a Vanishing Public Sphere,” raises some very interesting questions about location and the relevance of national narratives to the contemporary political imagination.

In the preface, Naaman takes note of the political impetus underlying modern Arab fiction as a whole, tying this impetus to the framing and contestation of real and imagined spaces: “Contemporary Arab authors,” she writes, “have used fiction as a way of responding to crucial, and often traumatic, historical moments…where questions of political authority and power are largely enacted through struggles over public space” (xx). She then sets out the framework for her reading of her chosen novels against the background of a broad range of disciplinary and theoretical interests and concerns—urban and postcolonial studies, architecture and art history, and globalization theory:

I hope to show the way in which the notion of the modern Egyptian subject has evolved in direct relationship to the changes manifest in the space of the downtown….Ultimately I hope to show how the contested nature of the downtown—as a spectacular imitation of European modernity, as Egyptian public sphere, as a site for staging revolution, and as a modernist ruin—was and continues to be central to the notion of what it means to be Egyptian. (xxi)

Naaman goes on to reflect on Cairo as an “oscillating landscape” whose neighborhoods are situated as “allegorical spaces through which we can read the history of the nation” (xxv). Through the accumulated passage of time and the imprints of generations, streets and neighborhoods take on the phantom nature of the palimpsest; “home” is constantly rewritten as part of an uncertain yet imperative project of liberation. The downtown, she writes in a poignant assessment, “remains a contingent space, marked by traces of the past and spaces of familiarity, but never offering a sense of a secure present” (xxv).

Naaman uses the Arabic term “Wust al-Balad” (center city; downtown) throughout the book rather than an English translation to signal the iconic status of this particular space in modern fiction as well as national history. She weaves a careful account of the area’s dramatic architectural and political history into her literary analysis of the way in which the four novels inscribe questions of agency, identity, language, critique, and nostalgia in spatial terms. The famous history of Khedive Isma‘il’s new city, Isma‘iliyya, or “Paris on the Nile,” and the great Cairo Fire of 1952 (during which furious crowds burnt a large chunk of this new city to the ground) are thus both major leitmotifs that recur at key points in the book. Naaman’s description of the process by which the novels’ characters engage in revisionist “mappings” of these histories in space is thus also an apt description of her own critical method (7). The bulk of this critical method is presented in the book’s introduction, “The Urban as Critical Frame,” and covers a broad cross-section of works and authors: the Cairo School of Urban Studies; Gwendolyn Wright’s work on French colonial design; Chicano border studies; and the work of Timothy Mitchell, Arjun Appadurai, and Sabry Hafez on (respectively) colonial modernity, global flows, and the “new novel” in Egypt.

At times, Naaman’s theoretical framing sits uneasily with her evocative and subtle readings of the novels themselves. Naaman closely follows a certain strand of postcolonial studies that proposes a spectacular, Western-authored (colonial) modernity as the presumed antithesis of a kind of authentic or antediluvian local identity and where points of contact or relationship are somehow inevitably defined by suspicion, corruption, or violation. Isma‘il’s new city is offered as “a spectacular imitation of European modernity,” a place that has “internalize[ed] the gaze of the West” (xxi, 1). In such a place, the circulation of capital takes the primary form of staged spectacles of consumption and public entertainment (the lavish department stores, clubs, and cafés of Cairo’s rich). Modernity then becomes an ontology: a fixed and external object (of desire or refusal) rather than a social habitus shot through with contradiction and struggle. The notion that “Egyptians [were] mere spectators in the staging of their own modernity” leads Naaman at times to problematic culturalist readings of political events (Timothy Mitchell quoted in Naaman, 12). For example, the Cairo Fire of 1952 becomes “a debate over what it meant to be modern” rather than a violent rejection of the political and economic structures of a collapsing colonial regime (16). She further argues that “the ‘Urabi rebellion of 1881-2, the revolution of 1919, the workers’ protest in 1946, and the fires and subsequent revolution in July 1952” were all a result of “the Khedive’s complete indifference to the older districts of Cairo (in terms of their architectural and infrastructural neglect)”—or more simply put, to “colonial modernity” (23, 32).

Naaman’s capable and sensitive close readings, however, point to the limits—if not the inadequacy—of this theoretical staging to describe and elicit the rich and complex texture of the novels themselves in their reflections on agency, identity, and loss in the modern Egyptian context. In chapters one and two (“Specter of Paris: The Staging of Cairo’s Modern City Center” and “Reconstructing a National Past: Radwa ‘Ashur’s Revisionist History of Downtown”), Naaman beautifully captures the way in which both the urban-architectural and the textual function as narrative acts that produce legibility and meaning for subjects and readers alike. She further builds on this insight in the next chapter, “The Indigenous Modernism of Khayri Shalabi: Popular Intellectuals and the Neighborhood Ghurza,” by elaborating on Michel de Certeau’s poetics of walking as a form of pedestrian enunciation and Jonathon Shannon’s exploration of modernity and musical improvisation in Syria. In her reading, the palimpsest of the city—the downtown and its “shadow thoroughfare[s]” (77)—is metaphorically composed by the active handling or use of its material structures (‘Ashur’s narrator, The Gazer, “re-members” the downtown by walking its streets and visually summoning its ghostly monuments) or by the continual crossing and re-crossing of porous, shadow borders inscribed into the urban landscape (Salih Hisa’s celebration of multiple social identities and languages; The Yacoubian Building’s crumbling vertical hierarchies). Ultimately, the book’s greatest strength lies here: in its compelling, engaged, and almost tender attention to the materiality of urban space as a lens that brings a whole history of collective desire, aspiration, and struggle into focus through the medium of fiction.

Toward the end of the book’s final chapter, “The Nation Recast through a National Bestseller: Alaa al-Aswany’s Ode to Downtown Cairo,” Naaman tentatively suggests the possibility of claiming this history-in-fiction as a living portrait of the imagined nation—“a master-narrative” as she puts it, “for the Egyptian experience” (167). Meanwhile, the resurgent “neo-bohemian” public sphere of the downtown that she describes in the book’s conclusion has once again metamorphosed into a fully insurgent space of struggle and contestation (169). In this moment of exhilarating and dizzyingly unreadable futures, Urban Space in Contemporary Egyptian Literature does an admirable job of underlining the ways in which “a reworking of the past vis-à-vis our cities is an important part of the process in determining who we are (and want to be) in the present” (176).

[The following is an animation narrated by Zainab Al-Khawaja after a phone call with her dad and before she was arrested on 21 April 2012 for protesting the Formula One Grand Prix in Bahrain. Abdulhadi al-Khawaja enters his 90^th day on hunger strike today, as his status and whereabouts remain unknown. The Bahraini regime continues to deny his family and lawyer their visitation rights.]

Iraqi unions demonstrated yesterday on May Day 2012 at a difficult historical moment. Still operating without a labor law that sanctions their organizing, and under the consolidation of Prime Minister Nouri al-Maliki’s growing police/military powers, their movement faces an array of antagonistic forces. In this wide-ranging discussion with Ali Issa, Basra-based Hashmeya Muhsin al–Saadawi, president of the Electrical Utility Workers Union in Iraq, and the first woman vice-president of the General Federation of Iraqi Workers in Basra, discusses Iraqi security after the US withdrawal, the legacy of the US occupation, the state of union organizing and electricity, and finally the Iraqi protest movement - one of the least covered of the Arab uprisings. The sectarian quota system to which Ms. al-Saadawi repeatedly refers is a constitutionally mandated “power-sharing” agreement that divides power in almost all of Iraq’s political institutions among “representatives” of various ethnicities, sects, and religions, and was initiated by the Coalition Provisional Authority under Paul Bremer in 2003. This system has also been strongly supported regionally by the governments of Iran and Turkey, just to name a few.

Ali Issa (AI): Has the withdrawal of official US forces changed Iraq’s security situation on the ground?

Hashmeya Muhsin al-Saadawi (HMS): To answer that question, let me start with 31 August  2010, because it was an important step in ending the occupation, and in regaining sovereignty, according to the timetable included in the withdrawal agreement signed by Iraq and the US. On that day, US forces completed their withdrawal from cities, and their mission shifted to training Iraqi forces. Complete withdrawal was then realized on 31 December 2011, leaving only very few troops, whose sole mandate is to “provide training.”

Iraqi security and military forces are still  facing problems including not being oriented properly - which goes back to a few causes, among them that some Iraqi political forces did not want a US withdrawal. There is also the fact that the sectarian quota system is reflected even within the structure of the Iraqi armed forces, while there of course ability and patriotism should be the basis, not loyalty to a party or sect.

The deterioration of the political situation, and the putting off of any serious decisions, the weakness of the Council of Representatives (majlis al-nuwab), in-fighting between winning blocs, and the deadlock that now governs the relationship between them. All that has had negative effects on the strength of the security forces and their role in these difficult and sensitive times.

AI: Are there Iraqi demands, wishes or ideas, with regard to the responsibility of the US government that lead and managed this occupation?

HS: Iraqis lived under a repressive, all-encompassing dictator for over three decades. That regime brought great suffering to Iraq, and the entire region. I do not want to get into this because it has become clear to the whole world (now it is clear to the world, after it had been deaf and blind to the oppression and torture of Iraqis by Saddam and his agents.) We wanted to get rid of this regime, but not through war and occupation. Because all the occupation did was bring new pain: including destroying what was left of the country’s infrastructure, and the undoing of its institutions, opening its borders to killers, terrorists and weapons dealers. As well as planting the seeds of sectarianism that thousands and thousands of Iraqis have died as a result of. Now the occupation is leaving after it has finished its mission and got what it came for. The occupation is the central responsible party in Iraq, but we do not really imagine for one minute that the US government will help with the true crises we have on many levels. So there is no way out except for serious and responsible efforts by forces acting politically in Iraq, both that are in power and outside of it, to deeply reassess the political process and the sectarian quota system on which it is based. Reform of that process, and getting it on the right track, could allow us to build a civil, democratic, united country.

AI: The union movement in Iraq has faced, and is still facing, great challenges from several successive Iraqi governments and the occupation since 2003, like the maintenance of Saddam’s 1987 law that criminalized independent union organizing. But in the face of all this, parts of that movement were able to launch a successful and populist campaign against the "Oil and Gas Law" from 2006-2009. What are the movement’s greatest challenges now?

HMS: Under the past regime, there was no union organizing in the public sector due to the terrible "Labor Law 150" of 1987. After that regime fell, the workers quickly put together unions in the public sector, worked very hard, but faced many agendas the US occupation brought with it. The occupation launched several consecutive attacks against the union movement: the attacks on the Baghdad headquarters of the General Federation of Trade Unions in Iraq by occupation forces, the parliamentary order 8750 in 2005 that froze the accounts of that federation, then the ferocious attack on the oil and electricity unions – that stated anyone unionizing in the public sector could be charged under article 4-2 of the anti-terrorism law.

The union movement challenged the "Oil and Gas Law" project and launched a campaign, aided by patriotic forces, Iraqi academics, and international labor allies, that revealed the faults with this law and the parts that needed to be revised. We are not against the passing of a law that includes that rights of the people and protects our oil wealth, and reinforces the role of the "Iraq National Oil Company" [Iraq’s public oil company which has been government owned since 1972].

At the same time, The General Federation of Trade Unions in Iraq launched a campaign to pass a labor law that is fair for workers and that matches work standards and international agreements. A proposal for this law was introduced in 2005, and the parliament and the government are still dragging their feet and playing with it. They have removed key parts, including not covering the public sector for union organizing as well as deleting the section on non-union workers’ role, until in its present form it no longer meets international standards.

Most recently, the electrical worker unions in Basra launched a campaign called “Social Security is the Right of Every Iraqi” relying on constitutional rights, which is supported by some international friends, the Federation of Unions in Holland being one of them.

AI: What is the situation with electricity like on the ground?

HMS: The issue of electricity has remained a daily battle. A sad thing that has become great fodder for sarcasm. It bears mentioning the gap that Saddam’s regime left—with its foolish policies and destructive wars—and the subsequent terrorist attacks that have targeted generators and grids. Most recently, there has been a gross exaggeration on much money has been spent on this sector, with no tangible results after their promises of improvement.

The Ministry of Electricity had promised a minimum of ten hours a day for ordinary people, based on what is left from State health and security needs. In reality, people get between four to six hours, with some houses getting no power for a full day, or even several days.

The Ministry of Finance estimates that twenty-seven billion public dollars have been spent on electricity since 2003. With all that, the Ministry of Electricity has failed in rebuilding this sector, complicated by the security factor which includes sabotage. This is partly due to a lack of consultation with Iraqis that know what they are doing, as well as mismanagement and widespread corruption. Now, just like every Spring, officials appear on TV and start making their brittle and hilarious promises, with some unionists joking that we might be exporting electricity to our neighbors or even Europe!

AI: What is your opinion of the Arab uprising-style movement in Iraq that started 25 February 2011, and has been called by some "the forgotten uprising?" Did unions participate in the mobilizations? Since recently they have been smaller in number do you think they will come back? Finally, do you have any explanation for the lack of media coverage, even in the Arabic-language media?

HMS: Iraq has seen successive waves of sit-ins, demonstrations, and protest activities. They have been the result of the continued hardships in daily life and lack of services for people, as well as the deterioration of security since April 2003 that I described. On top of all that, are the efforts to limit civil liberties and silence people, while cementing the hated ethno-sectarian-quota system; we consider all this an open and direct violation of the constitution. Many sectors of society have participated in these protests: youth, women, civil society groups, unions, and the newer pro-democracy formations.

The right of citizens to demonstrate, express opinions and take positions is a constitutional right, and the government and its apparatuses should provide the necessary amount of security to whoever is exercising it. It should also listen closely to people’s legal demands and seek to satisfy them. As well as pay attention to their calls for reform of the political process, and correct its course on the path to building a civil, democratic state, based on the text of the constitution that citizens voted for in October 2005.

It should be obvious that our Iraq is not isolated from what is happening, in the countries of the region, though it might differ in its internal dynamics and specifics. The storms of change around us have also energized our people to break the wall of silence and take the streets. The role of the youth in this movement has been especially key, with them taking advantage of new social media technology.

But the way the Iraqi government and its apparatuses have treated the protest movements is a serious violation of the constitutional right to freedom of expression and peaceful protest, and an attempt to stifle the citizens’ practicing of that right. That is when the people understood that the first and last concern of influential ruling political blocs is to look after their own interests, struggle with each other over power, and divide the pie among themselves, without any regard for ordinary people living under cruel conditions in a country whose yearly budget exceeds 100 billion dollars.

The protest actions of 25 February 2011 were a great success, as were the actions preceding and following, in expressing the clear and just demands of the people, despite being exposed to attempts to distort the depth of the movement and its goals. Then there has been the intrusion of the Prime Minister’s cabinet, with all its influence, to try to stop it, the attempts of the government as a whole to abort it, and all the surveillance and incarceration that followed.   

Whether to expect the return of the protests depends on the reasons that lead to them breaking out. To this day, none of the protesters’ demands have been met, so if the government continues on its present path, disregarding people’s rights, it is very likely the protests will return.

As for media coverage, there had been coverage from several TV stations, but the government put pressure on them, and shut down some of their offices. In addition, a good number of journalists were beaten by infiltrators at the protests—thugs--while others were arrested and detained. And of course there have been assassinations of journalists – those brave, honorable people– including the writer and poet, Hadi al-Mahdi.

AI: In a recent interview you have talked about your work with “The Iraqi Women’s League.” Have there been developments there?

HMS: I am a member of the women’s league and am proud of my affiliation to this Iraqi organization that has sacrificed so much, and aided in the fight against the Iraqi monarchy and played a big role in the glorious revolution of July, 1958. A few weeks ago, we celebrated sixty years of the league. Right now though, the union work is what takes most of my time. 

Mohammad Salama and Rachel Friedman, “Locating the Secular in Sayyid Qutb.” Arab Studies Journal Vol. XX No. 1 (Spring 2012).

Jadaliyya (J): What led you to write this article?

Mohammad Salama and Rachel Friedman (MS and RF): The post-revolutionary political scene in Egypt, with at least fourteen Islamist parties vying for power, is a timely historical moment to take a close look at the dynamics of religious authority versus the so-called secular. As the Egyptian people succeeded in overthrowing Mubarak’s dictatorship, the importance of popular discourses asserts itself strongly.

Our article came about partly through a desire to show how popular, non-institutional currents of thought tell a different history of the secular in Egypt than a governmental history would. We wanted to reopen a dialogue about the epistemological and ideological groundings of “the secular” in the Egyptian public sphere, a concept we believe calcified in Sayyid Qutb’s writings. As we have witnessed educated Egyptians using the word “secular/secularist” in a reductionist way, almost exclusively and unproblematically synonymous with kafir, or disbeliever, we felt an urgency to examine the changing culture in Egypt in light of the Arab Spring but also the widening divide between the possible hopes of the Egyptian society and the escalating “jargons of authenticity” that characterize the Islamist political movements today. Misunderstandings of the “secular” are not an excuse for repeating historical mistakes, especially when there is a historical amnesia, not just of the Ottoman dawlat al-Islam, and how it ran the affairs of pre-colonial Egypt before the Ali dynasty, but also the misconceptions we are witnessing before our eyes of the very culture and language of Islam.

This failure to understand the ramifications and imbrications of what we call the “secular,” especially after Talal Asad’s discerning analysis of the concept, is dangerous enough that it might foster the fall of Egypt into yet another discourse of political violence and tyranny—divisive, essentialist, and derivative of the old Islamic ‘asabiyya-based dynastic rule that ibn Khaldun warned us against seven centuries ago. We are also intrigued by how Qutb, with his growing posthumous fame, inspired by Qur'anic verses (especially on jahiliyya), in effect takes an interpretation of the Qur’an as his guide in explaining hakimiyya and jahiliyya in history.

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

MS and RF: The article is in dialogue with contemporary understandings of the secular and the doctrine of secularism, both Western and Egyptian. It takes up Talal Asad’s discussions in Formations of the Secular: Christianity, Islam, Modernity with the goal of expanding his study of the secular, particularly in Egypt. Talal Asad opens with the intriguing question, “What might an anthropology of the secular look like?” He critiques prevalent assumptions about the secular and the areas it covers, arguing that while anthropologists have called attention to the study of the “strangeness of the non-European world” and what is seen as non-rational dimensions of social life (myth, taboo, and religion), the modern and the secular have not been adequately studied. His project is an examination of this sort, and in his case study of Egypt, he looks at how the country’s colonial court system secularized.

We use the example of Sayyid Qutb’s writings to show how a wider understanding of the secular is enriched by non-institutional discourses. Especially in the case of post-colonial nations whose governments’ interests and values were different than those of the populace, we find it important to take popular currents of thought into account. Our study of Qutb’s work is framed with this investigation of the secular and how it was received by one popular thinker in post-colonial Egypt. We investigate Qutb’s attitude toward the secular through his quasi-historical theorization of jahiliyya, showing how his work is not just a product of but also produces and perpetuates a particular conception of the secular. Qutb’s use of Qur'anic concepts and vocabulary in his discourse lends his writing a special rhetorical power while tying it to a solid religious source. Our reading of his texts is a case in point of how popular discourse enriches and expands an understanding of the secular and its history in modern Egypt.

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

MS: As a scholar of modern Arabic culture and literature with a special focus on modern Egyptian thought, I aim to draw attention not only to narratives that relate colonial and postcolonial historiographies between Islam and the West in general, but also to fabricated beginnings, selective use of the past, and ignored histories. My recent coauthored volume German Colonialism (Columbia University Press, 2011) and my book Islam, Orientalism and Intellectual History (I. B. Tauris, 2011) are examples of this kind of work. Exemplifying such complexity entails radical contextualization and incorporation of texts that may not appear immediately relevant to the conventional historian. The most important motivation here is to draw attention to gaps and lacunae, as well as tensions, in terminological jargons used simplistically in the public world of politics.

This article fits well within my current research in that it examines the recent prehistory of political Islam in Egypt in order to emphasize the subtle and complicated ways through which political meanings enter the practice of politicians and polemicists, especially on such a heated topic as the religious and the secular, which is the issue du jour in current Egyptian political discourses. But I also wish to underscore that the last thing this article wants to suggest is any straightforward or categorical differentiation between those two notions. We could philosophize and even offer our own “anthropologies from above” on what the secular entails in certain social spaces. But in the end, much would depend on how, in this case, Qutb’s “macro-Islamic” perspective of the “secular,” or what he calls the “the miserable break,” can be shown to have solidified such an understanding in the public imagination and translated it into forms of action or models of thought on the ground, whether among scholars, journalists, activists, leaders of religious parties, or any other socio-political category of the sort.

RF: My scholarship focuses on the intersection of classical Arabic literature and Islamic studies. I have a special interest in Qur'anic studies, as well as how the Qur’an and its rhetoric have shaped various discourses in the Islamic literary and cultural milieu, particularly poetic production and criticism. This article is a modern-focused extension of that work in that it is also concerned with how interpretation of the Qur’an functions outside of tafsir discourse as it is narrowly defined. My recent article “Interrogating Structural Interpretation of the Qur’ān” in Der Islam (2012) is concerned with how some modern methods of approaching the Qur’an exclude and suspend centuries of tafsīr in their attempts to impose a “scientific” organization on the Qur’an and its suras. “Locating the Secular in Sayyid Qutb” takes up the broader question of modern-day understandings of the Qur’an from a different angle, examining how Qur'anic ideas have been employed and configured in a new, highly politicized context.

J: What other projects are you each working on now?

MS: Right now I am working on a book project tentatively entitled Islam and the Secular in Colonial Egyptian Literature. I show how certain contending motifs, popularized in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, came to inform Egyptian conceptions of national identity and organize a “cohesive” sense of Egyptianness, something in the name of which political parties would be established and anti-colonial campaigns waged. Drawing on works from Rifa‘ al-Tahtawi to early Taha Husayn, the study shows how the self-understanding of society requires its cultural and literary articulation, and how the Egyptian situation in particular shows how this articulation happens in different ways that are inspired by religion but not exclusively Islam-centered.

RF: I am currently doing work on the relationship between religious thought and literary criticism in classical Arabic discourse, a relationship organized by the evolving doctrine of the inimitability of the Qur’an (iʿjaz al-Qur’an) especially in the ninth and tenth centuries CE. On one hand, my study focuses on how this doctrine shaped conceptions of literature and its rhetorical devices. On the other hand, I am interested in how the Islamic is articulated in classical Arabic poetry in verse by the likes of ibn al-Rumi (d. 896 CE) and the Andalusi convert Ibrahim ibn Sahl (d. 1251 CE).

Excerpt from “Locating the Secular in Sayyid Quṭb”

While Quṭb calls for a return to a past state of affairs where there was nothing in society outside the religious, he does so in clear and explicit opposition to the current state of affairs. Quṭb sees the political circumstances in Egypt as the latest in a series of breaking points where society’s religious element was extracted so that a system other than religion could function (as in the case of the Church replacing God with its own system of indulgences and other manmade concepts). This modern perspective, in addition to Quṭb’s direct recourse to Qur’anic verses without the mediation of classical exegesis, renders his discourse specific to the modern era.

The traces of the secular can therefore be detected in postcolonial Islamist writing and are indeed constitutive of it. One must not only look for the secular in obvious places. Asad overlooks the complex popular currents of thought that still existed and were as vibrant and reactionary as ever. In addition to the case of institutional histories like that of the Egyptian court documents, however, the secular will be detected in various discourses as a symptom of the far-reaching consequences of modernity itself. Otherwise, it would be difficult to read Quṭb’s writings and not feel the enormity of the discontent and indignation as he toils to restore, at least textually, the sovereignty of Islam and to lift the scars that Europe’s colonial modernity visited upon the Arab-Muslim world. Perhaps it was an impossible and radically extreme task, but the point is that Quṭb was writing against his lived experience of what he understood to be the secular and its attempted implementation. In the larger relationship of this body of writing to the outside world, Quṭb’s voice has been distinct and eloquent in resisting the secular and the general direction of the times. In tracing Quṭb’s definition of the secular, we have aimed to examine his understanding of the concept not only as a postcolonial plague of foreign design but also in terms of how Quṭb appropriated what he saw as the history of secularism and recast it in his own project. We do not wish simply to dissolve the secular in a sea of categorical misconceptions nor to justify any one understanding of the secular. It is important to see, however, that, sociologically speaking, Quṭb’s oeuvre is itself symptomatic of the historical contingency of contentious socio-political struggles emanating from the postcolonial moment in the Arab-Muslim world. It is important to see as well how Quṭb tried to craft the blueprints of an Islamic umma à venir in lieu of Nasser’s “secular” nation-state.

Quṭb’s writings thus show the way these constructed Western categories of the “secular” and the “religious” are rhetorically translated in a strongly reactionary discourse. The fact that Quṭb seems to have had an understanding of these Western categories, even as he dresses them in uniquely Islamic religious language, is testament both to the hegemonic authority of the Western conception of secularism and to its cultural limitation. While Quṭb’s usage of jahiliyya and hakimiyya shows the way in which the conception of the secular leads to a reification of “the religious” or “the sacred,” his writings tell a different story about the role of religion in Egyptian society from what one would understand by reading Asad’s account of Egyptian court history alone. Asad’s account concretizes and hypostatizes his very thinking on the secular, while paying less attention to the imperial nature of this institutionalization and the power relations involved in it. Asad’s example is quite compelling and addresses a revolutionary change in legal reforms in Egypt. Yet while this account provides one narrative of institutional-level religious change in Egyptian history, it excludes other ways in which religion and secularism were configured.

Quṭb’s writing is at once symptomatic and constitutive of a powerful resistance to the type of change that Asad’s study of the court system describes. The institutional perspective is only one part of the political sphere, especially in a divided environment like colonial (not to mention postcolonial) Egypt. […] Asad concludes his book with the assertion that to consider the importation of European legal codes in nineteenth-century Egypt straightforwardly as an aspect of Europeanization or secularization would have been simplistic. He further contends that what happened in Egypt in the late nineteenth century served the important purpose of delinking the authority of law from religion. Asad emphasizes that Egyptian secularists and Islamists agree that a certain set of the Muslim population is still immersed in cultural practices that are more Pharaonic or Coptic than Islamic. Both Islamists and secularists, ironically, agree that there is a fundamental need to educate people out of ignorance and superstition, “an obstacle to becoming truly modern.”[1] As we have argued, however, Islamists in Egypt do not agree—as Asad seems to suggest—that “becoming truly modern” is an appropriate goal for the Egyptian public. In fact, if anything, it is the “truly modern” that is bifurcating and problematic.

In the end, the strength of Asad’s argument lies in the way in which it theorizes formations and articulations of the secular together within the same process. But this is the point where attention to the public sphere makes for a more compelling understanding of secularism in its wider social context. The secular is a fleeting signifier, a portmanteau concept whose value (ethical or not) fluctuates according to dominant epistemologies. It is therefore crucial for any argument on secularism not to rely on a circumstantial importation of a legal code to a colonized country, as much as it should not assume a unified public, which could easily be dissolved throughout periods of hegemonic control of power and culture. The emergence in Egypt of a new bourgeois, educated public following the establishment in 1908 of what would become Cairo University led to a number of heated confrontations between lay and religious education in Egypt, one that continues to flare up at the slightest provocation. The assumed antithesis between divine knowledge and human knowledge, so to speak, materialized in the acrimonious faceoff between the Egyptian thinker Taha Husayn and al-Azhar in the second decade of the twentieth century. The conflict also resulted in the formations of Islamist as well as non-Islamist subgroups and political parties that eventually assumed their autonomy. Some died out, like al-Haraka al-Dimuqratiyya li’l-Tahrir al-Watani, while others, like the Wafd party, survived. Since the late 1920s, Islamist subgroups began to flourish and attract public attention. The Muslim Brotherhood, al-Tabligh wa’l-Da‘wa, al-Jama‘a al-Islamiyya, Salafi circles, and even Naqshbandi orders are some such groups. This is why an understanding of secularism in modern Egypt will always be confronted with an elusive and multivariate public.

Notes
[1] Talal Asad, “Reconfigurations of Law and Ethics in Colonial Egypt,” in Formations of the Secular (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2003), 253-254.

[Excerpted from “Locating the Secular in Sayyid Quṭb” by Mohammad Salama and Rachel Friedman, by permission of the authors; published in Arab Studies Journal Vol. XX No. 1 (Spring 2012). For more information on this issue of the journal, or to subscribe to Arab Studies Journal, please click here.]

Roger Owen, The Rise and Fall of Arab Presidents for Life. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2012.

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

Roger Owen (RO): I was intrigued by news reports from Algeria in the spring of 2009 stating that President Abdel-Aziz Bouteflika of Algeria was going to amend the constitutional term limits in order to allow him become, in effect, president life, as Ben Ali and other Arab republican presidents had done before him. This led me on to consider the whole phenomenon of personalized presidential power, which did not seem to me to have been properly addressed before—at least not in English. At the same time, I was intrigued by Saad Eddine Ibrahim’s notion of the “Gumlukiya,” the monarchical republic, which he believed had come to exist in Syria and would in Egypt if Gamal Mubarak succeeded his father, a touchy point that led the Mubaraks to have Ibrahim arrested and put in jail.

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

RO: I address the question of power in an old-fashioned way—that is, concentrating on the personality of the president and his family and of the structures that support them—which seemed largely to have vanished from the literature, particularly that written by political scientists. For example, if you look at the index of many recent books about modern Egypt, you find very few references to “Nasser” or “Sadat,” although this was certainly not always the case. And yet, many of the Arab world’s ills seemed to me to come from the fact that most of the individual countries were ruled for so long by superannuated older men surrounded by crony-capitalists whose only interests were in the preservation of a corrupt status quo.

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

RO: My early work was almost exclusively concerned with the economic history of the Middle East in the last two centuries. But I was then drawn to write a text-book—State, Power and Politics in the Making of the Modern Middle East—about the existing political systems from a political-economy point of view using material which stemmed directly from a regular series of lectures I gave at Oxford University beginning in the 1970s, when no one else seemed to be given courses on the same subject.

Later, when I joined the History Department at Harvard University in 1993 (I had been in Social Studies at Oxford), I wanted to try my hand at political biography as some of my colleagues were doing. And this led to my life of the first Lord Cromer (published in 2004), and then to a wish to write something like a series of connected modern political biographies. These would be focused on the exercise of power within the authoritarian political structures that had developed in the Middle East (as well as the rest of the post-colonial world) as a result of the multiple personal as well as political and national insecurities of that era, so well examined by writers like Mohammed Ayoob and Jean-François Bayart. It was an exciting yet trying piece of research, given the fact that so little could be known about the secretive personal life of the presidents I was writing about and it relied very much on information coming from friends, students, and other informal sources—including, right at the end, some of the invaluable Wikileaks documents.

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

RO: My initial aim was to write for the same kind of well-read but largely non-academic readership I had hoped for my State, Power and Politics, including journalists, diplomats, and others. But now, with the Arab Spring and the sudden disappearance of three out of the seven Arab republican presidents for life, I have come to believe that my new book may reach a much more general audience, as well as a larger academic one, including undergraduates who are interested in survey courses involving the contemporary Middle East. In particular, I would like readers to think about the harm done to Middle Eastern societies by the existence of presidents for life—for example, now, in Syria—and of both the problems and the promise involved in the creation of new constitutional orders based on the notion of a plural democratic practice based on regular national elections.

J: How would you like to see this book affect current political and intellectual conversations regarding ongoing events in the region?

RO: I would like to see my book used as the basis for informed discussion about what American writers have called the “constitutional moment,” involving, as it must do, large considerations concerning republican as opposed to parliamentary systems of government, and also with regard to the nuts and bolts of democratic practice, such as the conduct of elections, the organization of parliamentary debate, and so on.

J: What other projects are you working on now?

RO: I have been lecturing and writing widely about the problems and possibilities connected with the establishment of working democracies in the Middle East, including the nature of what is obviously a significant “Arab” moment in which lessons and examples pass rapidly from one part of the Arab world to another. In addition, as I approach retirement, I have also begun to put down a set of more personal memories relating to my own experience of the modern Middle East, beginning with my military service in Cyprus in 1955-6, which I used to visit Lebanon, Jordan, Israel, and Egypt for the first time, and also related to the creation of the field of modern Middle East studies as I viewed it from the vantage point of being a student of Albert Hourani and as a new member of some of the various networks of European, Middle Eastern, and North American scholars with which he was associated.

Excerpt from The Rise and Fall of Arab Presidents for Life

From the Preface

I became interested in the particular subject of Arab republican presidents for life in the spring of 2009 when I learned that President Abdelaziz Bouteflika of Algeria had engineered a constitutional amendment allowing him to remain in office for a third term and so, in effect, for as long as his wished. In so doing he joined an exclusive band of Arab rulers, five in North Africa and two in the Arab east, who governed more or less as kings with every intention of creating dynasties for themselves, just as Hafiz al-Asad had managed to do in Syria. The decision to write a book on the subject followed almost immediately, and the project was virtually completed by the end of December 2010, just as the first rumblings of opposition to President Zein El Abidine Ben Ali of Tunisia suggested that these systems of quasi-monarchical government were much more vulnerable to popular pressure than almost anyone had previously imagined.

This unexpected situation created an obvious dilemma. Should I publish the manuscript as it was before any of the presidents had been actually pushed from office, or should I seek to incorporate the beginnings of that extraordinary story by which insistent demands for the removal of dictatorial presidents and for personal freedom suddenly appeared almost everywhere in the Arab world? In the end I decided on what was necessarily an only partially satisfactory compromise: I would adapt my manuscript to take account of the fall of two presidents, Ben Ali of Tunisia and Hosni Mubarak of Egypt; the tremendous pressure faced by three more, Bashar al-Asad of Syria, Ali Abdullah Saleh of Yemen, and Muammar Qaddafi of Libya; and the announcement by Omar al-Bashir of Sudan that he would not seek another term as president when his present term expired in 2015. This meant, in effect, the end of the system that my book seeks to explicate as a particular form of modern Arab political practice.

Presidents were also very much in the spotlight when my own interest in Middle East politics began in the 1960s. Like other academic observers I believed that the strong presidential regimes of that time were an inevitable outcome of the drive toward complete independence, easily justified by the attention that was paid to remedying the enforced backwardness of the colonial period with programs of land reform, industrialization, and educational development. Only in the 1970s did I begin to realize that they also involved the creation of structures of centralized personal rule, soon to be identified as authoritarian, while showing few signs of transforming themselves into plural systems of power based on contested elections and the more open, more competitive economic structures to be seen in parts of postcolonial Asia, sub-Saharan Africa, and Latin America.

Disillusion came in two stages. First, there was the widespread recognition that Arab authoritarianism was much more durable than had originally been supposed. Next there was the realization that more and more presidents were becoming, in effect, presidents for life, with every intention of passing on their office to one of their family, a process first observed in Syria, where President Hafiz al-Asad began grooming his sons to succeed him in the early 1990s. Soon some of the republics were beginning to look more like monarchies, a condition wonderfully captured by Egyptian sociologist Saad Eddine Ibrahim’s newly minted word “gumlukiya”—meaning a state that was half republic and half monarchy—which, though coined while he was reporting on Hafiz al-Asad’s funeral in Damascus, was rightly taken to apply to President Hosni Mubarak’s plans for Egypt as well. That Ibrahim was arrested as soon as he got back to Cairo seemed only to confirm the truth of what he was saying. Republican presidents were now behaving more like kings, just as the kings of Jordan, Morocco, and, later, Bahrain were adopting many techniques of government borrowed from their presidential neighbors.

My attempt at a comprehensive answer to the many questions about the development of Arab presidencies for life builds on the research of numerous political historians and political scientists of the Middle East working along much the same lines, whose ideas, I hope, it fully acknowledges. Nevertheless, as far as I know, there is no other book devoted solely to the subject, nor one that examines its historical etiology all across the Arab world from Morocco to the Persian Gulf, as well as analyzing its many unusual features in terms of rulers determined not only to defy the passage of time but also to find ways of defeating the whole logic of what is supposed to be a republican form of government.

***

From Chapter Ten, “The Sudden Fall”

On 31 December 2010, the Arab world contained nine presidents, of whom seven clearly intended to stay in office for life and six were over sixty—a veritable kingdom of the old. No one predicted, nor had the means to predict, what lay ahead. Egyptian newspaper columnists, for example, writing of what to expect in 2011 could see little significant on the political horizon other than continued speculation as to whether Gamal Mubarak would succeed his father, nothing more. Elsewhere, there was some question about opposition to President Ali Abdullah Saleh’s plans for his eldest son. Meanwhile, academics were still writing about what Eva Bellin, in 2005, had called the “robustness of the coercive apparatus.” And where they did address the question of the conditions under which regimes might fall, it was almost always argued in terms of possible weaknesses at the top, perhaps a fiscal crisis that could lead to a “hollowing out” of the coercive apparatus.

Out of the blue, and beginning with what might otherwise have been a minor event—the self-immolation of Mohamed Bouazizi in the southwest of Tunisia—a spark was lit that caused popular feeling to explode across the Arab world, bringing the immediate downfall of two presidential regimes (in Tunisia and Egypt) and posing a substantial threat to three more (in Libya, Syria, and Yemen), forcing their leaders to confront the rebels in a series of increasingly violent confrontations. And though, in retrospect, it is possible to discern some of the material causes of these events, it is their existential quality that seems worthy of most notice, the fact that so many people in so many places were united in the desire to free themselves from a set of oppressive, arbitrary, corrupt, controlling, and incomprehensible regimes, all of which appeared as though they would last the length of their own lifetimes and beyond. To take just one telling example, a young Egyptian of thirty would only have known one ruler, Hosni Mubarak, and could expect to know only one more, his son, Gamal.

In the event, the most useful way of explaining these unexpected irruptions of popular grievance was provided by Timur Kuran in his seminal article “Sparks and Prairie Fires: A Theory of Unanticipated Political Revolution,” based on a study of the French, Russian, and Iranian revolutions. Here he theorizes that in repressive regimes people conceal their true opinions but at considerable psychological cost. Then, in response to a slight surge in more open opposition, more and more individuals are emboldened to publicly express political dissatisfaction until there is a wholesale shift in “public sentiment.” A further elaboration is provided by Arne Klau, in which he notes that the coming of Facebook and Twitter allowed Tunisians and Egyptians to express their dissatisfaction to each other at very low cost—for example, without running the risk of attending public meetings—and so giving them a sense of their own large numbers even before the first demonstrations began.

The revealed weaknesses of the Arab presidential regimes and the way that these weaknesses combined created a revolutionary situation that brought hundreds of thousands of people into the streets to try to complete the work of liberation first begun by the founders of the very same structures they were now trying to overturn.

[Excerpted from The Rise and Fall of Arab Presidents for Life, by Roger Owen, by permission of the author and of Harvard University Press. Copyright © 2012 by the President and Fellows of Harvard College. For more information, or to purchase this book, please click here.]

"The Malian crisis seen from Algeria," by Thomas Serres (19 April 2012) presents an analysis of Algerian perceptions of the upheaval in northern Mali. This analysis is insufficient in explaining Algerian behavior in response to the rebellion in northern Mali or to the March coup d’etat and misidentifies Algerian priorities in relation to the "Sahelo-Saharan Space" and Algeria’s relationships with extra-regional actors in the west.  Additionally, its underlying assumptions about Algerian foreign policy in the Sahel and the west do not match with observations of Algerian behavior in the past or at the present time. Serres’s analysis also highlights some of the problems facing those seeking to analyze Algeria’s foreign policy and the relationship between its internal politics and external behavior.

This post does not cover all parts of Serres’s analysis. Instead, it looks at the assumptions Serres starts with upfront, examines some of the claims made and thinks out-loud about some of the problems it shows in popular thinking about Algeria’s relationships with its neighbours. Many of these issues have been raised or discussed on this blog at various times on this blog and so this post proceeds casually; it will be followed by a series of posts looking at problems in analysing Algerian politics and foreign policy in the next several weeks.

Flawed Assumptions

In explaining Algeria’s negative response to the MNLA’s declaration of independence in the Azawad in April 2012, Serres writes:

In addition to the threat of instability across the country’s southern border, the Mouvement National de Libération de l’Azawad (MNLA) made the pragmatic choice to form a short-lived alliance with jihadists from Ansaar Eddine and Al-Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb (AQIM) during their offensive. Due to Algeria’s own recent history with terrorism, this relationship was viewed with great suspicion.

First, it is not clear that the MNLA allied with Ansar al-Din knowing it was a "jihadist" organisation and claims that the MNLA ever allied with AQIM have never been substantiated and the group has consistently denied any such association. Ansar al-Din’s relationships with AQIM and the Movement for Unity and Jihad in West Africa (MUJWA, an AQIM splinter group) take shape firmly until the push south, after the conquest of Kidal. After the rebellion moved south to Gao and Timbuktu, it became clear that the MNLA, Ansar al-Din and AQIM and MUJWA were divided both ideologically and on personal lines. There is no evidence for the claim that Algeria’s government conflates the MNLA with Ansar al-Din, AQIM and MUJWA; in fact, there is substantial evidence to the contrary not least the fact that Algiers has been openly using the MNLA as a go-between with Ansar al-Din and AQIM in order to figure out the release of the seven Algerian diplomats held hostage at Gao. The Algerian perception of the actors in northern Mali is likely significantly more nuanced and complex than this assumption lets on (for example, it is remarkable that Algeria, given its past positions on negotiations with AQIM’s hostage takings in the Sahel, appears to be negotiating with MNLA or MNLA or other-affiliated intermediaries for the release of their hostages, though this probably with some level of precedent since no ransom payment seems likely). It is probably accurate to say that Algeria views AQIM and MUJWA’s associations with Ansar al-Din as a threat and that this colours its view of the overall situation. But at the current time it look more like Algeria sees the MNLA as a tactical partner against the Islamist groups in northern Mali. (Furthermore, most of the international community responded negatively to the MNLA’s unilateral declaration of independence).

Serres writes that Algeria sees the crisis in northern Mali as a way to drum up western support for the May elections by positioning itself as an invaluable mediator in northern Mali.

The success of the Tuareg rebels and their allies also has important implications given the upcoming legislative elections in Algeria that will prepare the succession of the Raïs Bouteflika. Western powers have called upon Algeria to support their efforts in solving this crisis, rendering them increasingly dependent on the cooperation of the regime, whose stability has become a priority.

This is not supported by Algerian responses to the crisis in Mali and is contradicted by the behavior of western powers, France in particular. On the one hand it is probably accurate that Algeria hopes to acquire a role as a mediator in northern Mali. Its reluctance to comment on the situation in the early days of the crisis supported this perception, although they have more recently focused their public statements on reinforcing the regional and international consensus that the territorial integrity of Mali is non-negotiable, but have avoided being seen to support external intervention (breaking ranks with regional states, including Mauritania, over this issue). After the kidnapping of the seven Algerian diplomats at Gao, Algerian and other press accounts speculated at Algerian intervention, though this came to naught and the deployment of elite troops on the frontier with Mali appears to suggest reinforcement of the Algerian side of the border rather than an attempt to project force into Mali.

As yet there are no indications the Algerians seek to link the prospect of them taking on a mediator role in Mali with western support for the sallow reform program or the May elections. In fact, western powers, including France and the United States, have sought Algerian mediation in Mali without any reference to the country’s internal politics. Western governments for some time now have hoped Algeria would play a more proactive role in Mali and the Sahel in general and despaired at its unwillingness to do so. (This the result of the large gab between Algeria’s self-image as the regional leader and its more understated approach to the region beyond its borders). Thus, if Algeria wanted an expanded role in the Mali crisis it is probable they could do so with relative ease as far as the western countries are concerned. As far as the Mali file is concerned the May elections are neither here nor there for Algiers or its partners from outside the region.

Perhaps most importantly, this situation serves to reinforce a nationalist rhetoric in Algeria that is based on a fear of division and anarchy, stemming from the civil war.

This assumption is more accurate than the other two but has less relevance in general than one might think. Mali fits into a narrative popular in the pro-regime press in Algeria that 2011 brought multiple, shocking upheavals to the greater Maghreb region, which simultaneously highlight the advantages of Algeria’s relative stability and the dangers of political experimentation and disunity. This might be called the securitised view of the Arab uprisings. It is most true when observing Algerian press coverage of the Libyan crisis and its fallout. Early on in the Libyan uprising, the Algerian government and press was warning that weapons would proliferate widely out of Libya as a consequence of the conflict there. Reporting on developments in the security sector in late 2011 and early 2012, for example the appointment of Gen. Bachir Tartag as head of the counterintelligence section at the DRS, rationalised a hardline approach to the country’s internal politics, painting Algeria as a country surrounded by instability in Libya, Islamist governments in Tunisia and Morocco and rampant terrorism in the Sahel. The crisis in Mali surely fits this narrative. But the government and pro-government press do not appear to be appropriating the crisis in Mali as it did the crisis in Libya to draw parallels and examples to rally support.

Problematic Claims

Serres describes the "Sahelo-Saharian Space" as "crucial in Algeria’s regional strategy" for three reasons. This is problematic because Serres never tells his readers what Algeria’s regional strategy is, what assumptions such a strategy is based on or what it seeks to accomplish. The three reasons Serres says the Sahel is important to Algeria are more or less non-controversial though they do not totally square with Algerian behavior in Mali or the region more broadly and amount more to descriptions of previous Algerian behavior.

First, the country’s authorities seek to gain legitimacy from their long experience with counter-terrorism. Second, Algeria played a key role in implementing various forms of international cooperation in order to confront security issues in the region. Third, this cross-border space is notoriously rich in natural resources, and is thus much coveted by many foreign actors such as France and the US, though also including China.

In the first case it is true, Algeria has sought to position itself internationally as a country self-sufficient in combating terrorism. Its military and civilian leadership typically stress that western countries failed to appreciate the threat the regime faced during the Islamist insurgency of the 1990s until after 11 September 2001 and that the Algerians suppressed it with minimal external support. This is a consistent narrative in Algerian foreign policy and its communications aimed at western partners. This is linked the government’s attempt to normalise its foreign policy and to reestablish Algeria’s international prestige in multilateral bodies at the end of the civil war (seen as a function of Bouteflika’s foreign policy agenda, this is an attempt to give Algeria a kind of warrior’s legitimacy similar to the revolutionary legitimacy it enjoyed among the Non-Allied countries during the 1960s and 1970s as a result of its war of independence against France). This does not, however, sufficiently explain why the Sahel is crucial to Algeria’s strategy in the region. In the second case, it is a statement of fact to say Algeria was instrumental in establishing the CEMOC. This is beyond any real dispute. But this again is not a reason for the Sahel to be key to the country’s regional relations. (There are various explanations for the ineffectiveness of CEMOC and the other regional cooperatives, many of them focused on the internal structural limitations facing the Algerian regime and on the weaknesses of the states in the region generally, especially Mali prior to its near collapse this year and the deep distrust between the military and civilian authorities in Algiers and Bamako should not be understated, especially given the disparity in perceived power and the depths of crippling corruption within the Malian security establishment and the political disincentives for ‘action’ against armed groups in the north that faced Ahmadou Toumani Toure). Finally, it is also true that Algeria, through its state energy firm SONATRACH, has economic interests in the natural resources in the Sahel. Yet it is also true that in northern Mali these resources are limited and that Algeria secured its access to these mineral resources some time ago with relative ease (it should also be mentioned that the supposed great wealth of resources in northern Mali is actually relative limited, including in Taoudeni, when compared to Niger, southern Algeria and even Mauritania for reasons of soil and geography).

As Serres notes many of the leaders of AQIM are Algerians and the Algerians have been urged by the countries in the Sahel (except for Mali) to take a more aggressive role in northern Mali because the Malians have habitually failed to exert control over their own territory. But there is little evidence the Algerians have a strong desire to intervene beyond their borders, as evidenced by their frequent refusal to do so and that Algeria’s force structure does not support the deployment of forces south into territory like Mali’s.

Serres writes, as many have, that Algeria’s reluctance to use its military in the Sahel points to a possible conspiracy to destabilise the region and that this has to do with the designs of western actors.

[. . .] the powerful military intelligence (once called Sécurité Militaire and now known as the DRS,Département Renseignement et Sécurité) is suspected to be involved in the strengthening of the Tuareg Rebellion. Some critics go so far as to assert that the DRS might use the threat of terrorism in the Sahelo-Saharian space as a way to gain leverage with France and to justify American interference in the region. Given the past activities of the DRS during the civil war, these assumptions seem credible. Undoubtedly, Algeria is key to the geopolitics of the region due to its military superiority, experience in anti-terrorism, and the important role played by its intelligence services. These factors provide the regime with an opportunity to strengthen its national and international position.

There have been accusations, mainly from Malian and Tuareg sources, that the DRS is involved in fomenting rebellion in northern Mali. Similar accusations from similar sources (and perhaps most prominently and prolifically from Jeremy Keenan) have it that the entire AQIM phenomena (going back to the GSPC) is the result of a DRS-originated plot to export terrorism to the Sahel, to justify outside intervention as Serres writes here. The supporters of this thesis point to the Algerian military’s infiltrated of armed groups, including the Armed Islamic Group (GIA) during the 1990s civil war. The assumption that because the Algerian regime infiltrated armed groups during the civil war it has infiltrated the GSPC and AQIM is highly problematic, chiefly because those who most frequently raise this claim rely on circumstantial reports from suspect or biased sources or because they fail to provide any support for the claim that AQIM is being "run"by the Algerian secret services or that the Algerian regime has any interest in creating instability in the Sahel.

Serres’s supports this claim with Tuareg sources well known for taking an anti-Algerian line in the Mali conflict and to Jeremy Keenan. During the last decade, Keenan helped produce a whole intellectual style of writing about Algeria and the Sahel – with a vocabulary including such terms as The Saharan Front, The Banana Theory, The Self-Fulfilling Prophecy – which found its way into academic journals, conferences and even an Al Jazeera English documentary. This view had the tendency to down play Islamist militant threats to the stability of the Sahel and to look with heavy skepticism on the intentions and activities state actors in the region, especially in describing the ‘war on terror’ as little more than a rent seeking opportunity for authoritarian regimes in the region. This perspective suffered from all the troubles that face simplistic broad-brush narratives. The most lengthy expositions on this line are (Keenan’s essays in the Review of African Political Economy and the Journal of Contemporary African Studies, and his two books The Dark Sahara and The Dying Sahara, though other scholars have incorporated his views into their writing) are heavily circular in their logic and citation, relying heavily on previous articles written by the same author which include repetitious but lightly sourced claims based largely on assumptions as opposed to empirical evidence. Keenan himself admits that many of his claims about AQIM, its members and the Algerian regime’s motivations in the Sahel are not supported by any evidence (he says as much in The Dark Sahara). Most problematic is that these varied assumptions and arguments about Algeria’s role in the Sahel ignore or minimise Algeria’s well established and well known foreign policy priorities in north-west Africa and in general because they discount any reference to empirical evidence. A cool evaluation of Keenan’s theories about AQIM and the geopolitics of the Sahel in general is probably in order, though readers can find very fine critiques of his work here and here. (It should be noted there were many scholars who took similar views to Keenan but whose writing was more sophisticated and rigorous in its scholarship, but Keenan’s narrative has become exceptionally prominent in the popular geopolitics of the Maghreb-Sahel; this is deeply unfortunate).

Serres goes on to describe Algeria’s view of the Global War on Terror as an opportunity to seek "geopolitical rent."

De facto, Algeria is a key player in the Sahel, perhaps now more than ever. The crisis in Libya and Mali will likely bolster the geopolitical rent that has benefited the Algerian regime since 11 September 2001. As long as the country is involved in the so-called “war on terror,” its international partners are forced to avoid making any interference in Algerian affairs. Interested in maintaining the stability of the country, they must also court the (widely corrupt) military aristocracy, which is a key player in political decisions. With the upcoming legislative elections in May that will determine the succession of Abdelaziz Bouteflika, the Malian crisis provides the military elite a welcome occasion to make itself indispensable in the eyes of its international partners.

This again sits in contradiction of Algerian behavior and inaccurately describes Algeria’s geopolitical position and worldview. In the first place, Algeria is not dependent on the western countries for economic or military aid or support; this is a straw man that has been frequently used in reference to Algeria and the Global War on Terror.  Algeria maintains a high degree of autonomy in its foreign affairs, largely due to its rentier economy, low external debt, and its use of Russian and Chinese arms. (It does not rely on the United States or France or NATO for military supplies or maintenance or other aid.) Algiers is already seen as relatively "indispensable," and its inaction in the Sahel is a point of frustration for many in the west (this idea probably originated with the Algerians after 11 September 2001 but is already strongly established in many western circles to the point where it is taken as a given). The Algerians do not need the Malian crisis to create the impression of themselves as a key actor in the region, especially — in the American context — given the role of ideas such as ‘off-shore balancers’ and ‘regional hegmons’ in western geopolitical thinking in areas where the use of western military forces is considered undesirable. Indeed, Serres notes that

[. . .] intervention of any kind is impossible without the agreement of Algiers, who has been careful not to give its consent. In fact, despite the insistence of Washington and Paris, the country’s authorities remain narrowly focused on their own territory[1]. One cannot overlook the fact that the strengthening of Sahelian jihadists is directly linked to NATO’s operation in Libya, which has been strongly criticized in Algeria. Moreover, a direct intervention by French or American forces would be seen as an attempt to take direct control of the region’s ground resources, mainly uranium and hydrocarbons. Such a risky venture would also, logically, be understood as another instance of aggressive imperialism in the name of the “global war on terror.”

This is an accurate description of the Algerian view of western management of the Libya crisis. But this does not mesh with Serres’s claims about Algeria seeking "geopolitical rent" from western partners. What Algeria receives as "rent" from this arrangement — aside from official visits during which the Algerians routinely refuse to adopt policy changes requested or recommended by western officials — is unclear. The Algerians rarely purchase western weapons (despite frequent comments by some analysts who believe Algiers is attempting to exploit the ‘war on terror’ to acquire western weapons (the Algerians mainly use and purchase Russian materiel, though on the technical front there are areas the Algerians have sought and obtained from the NATO countries but this is marginal and cannot easily be construed as collecting "rent"); it is also worth noting that

At the present time, the Algerian regime and army must also contend with internal dissent, a situation that would only be worsened were they to support a foreign intervention in the Sahel. Even though the ANP participated in the military committee of NATO in January 2012, the institution is reluctant to assume a direct partnership[2]. This form of alliance would fit neither with the history nor interests of the army. Instead, Algiers seeks to continue a pragmatic approach based on a series of strategic bargains, which ensures that their Western partners are dependent upon the good will of the regime.

While this may be vaguely correct, it misses the broader, structural concern the Algerians have with cooperation with NATO and other western security arrangements: Algeria’s foreign policy is structured around maintaining the absolute sovereignty of the state and self-reliance in security affairs. Since 11 September 2001, Algeria has portrayed itself to the west as a country that dealt with the terrorism issue on its own and used this as evidence of their ability to control the state and society, arguing that Algiers can contribute to counterterrorism efforts and not that it needs or seeks tutelage from western governments on the issue. As late as 2011 an Algerian official could say, on the record, that Algiers has ‘nothing to learn’ from the United States in the field of counterterrorism. NATO has been reluctant in part to pursue deeper cooperation with Algiers because of the Algerians’ preference for what Serres calls the ‘pragmatic approach’, somewhat distinct from the example of Morocco which actively seeks "geopolitical rent" from the NATO countries in a manner far more overt and far more obvious than the Algerians ever have in the last five years, if not the last decade.

Serres’s discussion of Algeria’s opposition to the MNLA’s declaration of independence for the Azawad similarly comes close to the mark but still misses the target.

The Malian crisis is also significant for political debates in Algeria. Defensive nationalism is a longstanding rhetoric of authoritarian regimes. This discourse does not insist so much on the greatness of the nation, but rather emphasizes the risks that would occur should disorder prevail. Thus, the Algerian response to Azawad’s declaration of independence echoes an old nationalist strategy. Playing on the fear of a secession of the South has become a way for political leaders to show their commitment to defending the Algerian nation. For example, Bouguerra Soltani, the President of an Islamo-nationalist party that left the presidential coalition to form a “Green Alliance” with other moderate Islamist formations, reacted strongly when Algerian diplomats were taken hostage by Ansaar Eddine in Gao. He claimed that the unity and integrity of Algeria were a “red line” for him.

It is true that Algeria likely looks at the Malian Tuareg nationalism and separatism as a potential threat to its own territorial integrity. Algeria has roughly a half million Tuaregs living in its southern provinces, many of whom have kinships in Mali and Niger. The risk of spill over is relatively high, and local perceptions of the central government culturally, ethnically and politically complicate this. But Algeria’s opposition to the secession of Azawad from the rest of Mali comes partly from pragmatic and legalistic origins, its desire to see the colonial boundaries remain static (to combat the appeal of irredentism) and to keep border changes inline with the African Union principle of uti possidetis. These concerns from part of the basis of Algeria’s support for the Polisario Front in the Western Sahara and it has been at the root of Algeria’s border disputes with Tunisia, Libya and Morocco since independence (each country at one point or another sought to claim parts of Algeria’s desert frontiers, usually seeking resources; this is also part of why Algeria’s diplomacy has been more centred on building relationships within multilateral organisations in Africa and the United Nations than on the regional organisation it belongs to, because this principle is not widely supported in the Arab League).

Internally, Algerian politicians who are running for office – like Mr. Soltani – are prone to playing the nationalist card, especially Islamists who have been accused of taking money from foreign governments to fund their campaigns. But it should also be noted that there is nothing extreme in saying that a country’s territorial integrity are not negotiable; one would expect that, if probed, elites in Niger, looking at the situation in Mali and looking at their own Tuareg population, would expected to say much the same. This is not to say that Serres is incorrect in point out that Algeria’s elites habitually appeal to the threat of secession in the Kabylie and other parts of the country as a way to drum up support for the regime; or that the Saharan provinces have seen strikes, demonstrations and increased tensions in the last decade and demands for greater state investment in their infrastructure or that Prime Minister Ouyahia’s comments at Tamanrasset were explicitly aimed at discouraging Algerian Tuaregs from being tempted by the Azawad example.

The MNLA has repeatedly said it does not seek to expand into Algeria (and has actively sought, without success, to gain Algerian support) or other neighbouring countries, seeking only the ‘liberation’ of the Azawad specifically (though they have had to emphasise this in various media), the death of Ibrahim Ag Bahanga last summer probably made a wider Tuareg rebellion outside Mali less likely; Ansar al-Din in recent weeks has be explicit in saying that seeks to establish shari’ah in Mali and not beyond. Though cynical and vulgar, it is understandable Algerian leaders would attempt to exploit fears of spill over or irredentism, and it speaks less as an appeal of nationalist extremism; and in the case of individual Algerian politicians they may occasionally mean what they say, especially given the assumptions many northern Algerians have about the south (for some looking south the description of Tamanrasset as “Mars” is meant to describe both the landscape and the people) and comments about the country’s territorial integrity probably speak to.

[This was orginially posted on The Moor Next Door]

(الجزء الأول) في السابع والعشرين من نيسان وضمن أعمال المؤتمر الذي نظمته جدلية بالتعاون مع جامعة لوند، أجرى محرر جدلية بسام حداد مقابلة مطولة مع هيثم منّاع، أحد أبرز رموز المعارضة السورية المستقلة ومؤسس الهيئة التنسيقية للتغيير الديمقراطي. كانت المقابلة طويلة وصريحة وتطرقت إلى موضوعات عدة من ضمنها المأزق الحالي في سوريا، ومراحل وتحولات الثورة، وموضوع التدخل الخارجي والمقاومة، والمجلس الوطني السوري وعلاقاته مع مجموعات المعارضة الأخرى والدول الخليجية وغيرها، وعلاقة سوريا بحزب الله.

أدناه الجزء الأول من أربعة أجزاء.

It was in the early morning hours of 13 March 2012 that Egyptians on Twitter were alerted by a message sent from fellow tweep Mostafa Sheshtawy’s phone. He had been picketing at the German University in Cairo’s (GUC) strike. In the SMS, the activist said he was being arrested. Startled by the news, fellow activists passed the message around. It was received and re-tweeted by many fellow tweeps, most of whom do not even know him Mostafa, identifying his location and expressing concern about his fate. 

For an hour, the message was distributed widely, with everyone participating in spreading the news; identifying when and who spotted him last; wondering where he might be taken (National Security in Downtown, or the Military Prosecution in Nasr City), based on the SMS sent from his phone; and arranging to contact lawyers who would set the legal wheels in motion. The message had gone viral. In a short time period, with Mostafa seemingly in trouble, the online activist community was in distress, turning to every communication instrument at their disposal. Yet their actions were not haphazard. It was not the first time this scenario took place. There seemed to be a typical and logical procedure followed in such circumstances. It starts with alerting key tweeps with a high number of followers whose messages are often re-tweeted. Simultaneously, info is collected about the missing tweep and why his/her activism might put him/her in danger. Tweeps who are proximate to the incident, offer their accounts on where and with whom the missing activist was seen last. In the meantime, legal aid is readied once concern reaches a serious point, such as not hearing from someone for a protracted period of time. 

All this happens with the missing activist “mentioned,” which serves to alert him in case the disappearance is a technical mistake or alert those around him or in touch with him or send a message to his abductor that the “world is watching”. Although this did not happen in Sheshtawy’s incident, but a “hashtag” is the next step in the case of prolonged disappearance or if an arrest or abduction was confirmed. Hashtags consolidate all messages on the same topic and can funnel ideas of solidarity, popularizing anything in a short time period.

Eventually, the disappeared activist, Mostafa, responded to the numerous “mentions” on Twitter which had turned him into the center of concern for much of Egypt’s online community. His fellow activists and concerned Twitterati were relieved to learn that he had not been arrested but rather had fallen asleep at the GUC sit-in and hadn’t used his phone. Instead, it was his Android phone’s ”I’m Getting Arrested” mass texting application that kick-started the frenzy! “I’m Getting Arrested” is like “S.O.S iEmergency” for iPhones and other applications, is widely used by Egyptian activists. The application can be triggered to send alert messages to respective pre-recorded emergency numbers, thereby saving valuable time in the rescue efforts. The “I’m Getting Arrested” application is relevant to the Egyptian context for being developed, according to TIME magazine, with the Occupy Wall Street protesters in mind. It was inspired by a similar arrest incident.

Despite this activist’s incident being a false alarm, the episode nevertheless highlights the extent to which telecommunication and information technology have given Egypt’s youth revolutionaries a significant and perhaps irreversible edge over and against their adversaries. This is a generation that has successfully mustered the art and science of association and solidarity; adapted to their environment; mastered the technological tools available to them; perfected the ability to mobilize; and learned to utilize time effectively. More importantly, they have successfully and repeatedly challenged the state’s classical ban on/over the right of assembly, what Asef Bayat in Life as Politics calls “the art of presence.”

Another critical component unique to the revolutionary impulse in Egypt is the ability to transcend ideological barriers between different opposition groups. This was the turning point in the fight against the oppressive state, which was accustomed to gaining power in the zero-sum game against the opposition through inducing divides. Here, despite the ideological differences, the leading member of the left-leaning “Revolutionary Socialists,” Hossam El-Hamalawy, known on twitter as 3arabawi, sought the help of the more pragmatic founder of the “No Military Trials,” Mona Seif, known on Twitter as Monasosh, to start mobilizing legal aid for the thought-to-be arrested Sheshtawy. 3arabawi has about 67,000 followers on Twitter, whereas Monasosh has 71,000. Between the followers of the two leading Twitter activists, and the 10,000 followers of the missing activist, around 150,000 fellow tweeps were notified instantly about developments pertaining to Sheshtawy’s situation, and hence triggered their participation in the aforementioned process. Re-tweeting a single message by this figure would multiply and amplify the number of people receiving it and the level of awareness of the incident would skyrocket. 

With this capacity for mobilization, solidarity and assembly, this generation has proven more advanced than the regime it has been dismantling. It is an aging/ailing regime that has always been reactive and on the defensive. It has always used conventional tactics of control, which rendered it obsolete. It hasn’t been able to keep up with the technological innovations mustered by the young generation of activists who have revolutionized the dynamics of activism. 

According to the Guardian, Mubarak’s State Security Investigations service (SSI) had been in business with British Software House, Finfisher, until June 2010, to purchase a program that “experts say could infect computers, hack into web-based email and communications tools such as Skype and even take control of other groups' systems remotely.” This was revealed by the Guardian, and other supporting documents were discovered by activists amid hundreds of batons and torture equipment when they broke into the headquarters of the SSI in June 2011. 

The documents discovered highlight the state’s continued attempts to obtain a trial version of the aforementioned software, and accordingly was still haggling about the price and the accompanying training packages. In addition, such negotiations and cooperation reflect a mindset not aware of the latest technologies on the market, and thus will always lag behind vis-à-vis their target activists/opposition. This mindset reveals backwardness manifested in jeopardizing security and technological edge at a time when a generation of youth was increasingly transforming into a tech-savvy community, liberating itself, and transcending state control. In doing so, they were able to revolt and break the state’s monopoly on information. Time here is the most important asset that such states waste easily in the never-ending quest for knowledge and information. Alternatively, the young activists, have had plenty of time at their disposal, and acted responsibly in accumulating knowledge that helped them break the usual monopoly of the oppressive state.

Until mid-2010, the regime tried to infiltrate/hack emails and Skype accounts, while April 6 movement, two years earlier, had been strides ahead and used Facebook to communicate and campaign for a labor strike. By mid-2010, activists were still able to circumvent the regime, such as the “We are all Khaled Saeed” Facebook group which was using the same medium to campaign for protests against torture by the police. These were the same groups who, without interruption, used the same new media to call for the 25 January 25 2011 protests, eventually bringing down Mubarak. In fact, the regime has not started a single campaign or new media initiative with even the most modest modicum of success to control or react to these moves. Even after the downfall of Mubarak, SCAF's Facebook page is notoriously old-fashioned and out of touch. It is still reactive and on the defensive, and when it decided to take the lead, it couldn’t but employ poorly-conceived and executed defamation campaigns against activists, which were contradictory, inconsistent, redundant and unfounded. It is also incapable of responding to criticism because it is very hierarchical compared to all the revolutionaries whose activities are horizontal. 

For instance, the revolutionaries’ campaigns were more progressive/daring, colorful and unexpected. They were simultaneous and both online and off-line, including Emsek Flol [1], Mosireen [2], Askar Kazeboon [3] not to mention the football Ultras activities and the graffiti wars. Online, the regime has been losing in a humiliating manner. Alternatively, the off-line war against the Ultras had to be conventionally brutal, yielding more martyrs and disgruntlement against SCAF. On graffiti, the online and off-line wars between the activists on one side and SCAF and its affiliates on the other intensified during the month of January 2012. SCAF’s input lacked any artistic sense, and affirmed that even its supporters, such as in this incident by a group self-titled “Badr Battalion 1,” are lagging behind artistically and aesthetically as well. The iconic murals everywhere documenting the revolutionaries’ artistic capabilities and creativity were defaced and desecrated by pro-SCAF’s groups. They wiped out and replaced the art and graffiti with artistically-inferior work and messages such as “the army and the people…one hand”, “April 6 are traitors,” “Long Live Free and Independent Egypt” and their tag “Badr 1.” This campaign was complimented by a video footage on YouTube, with emotional nationalist music in the background, depicting the process of vandalizing the murals (see video below).

This revolutionary generation has winning character, energy, creativity and thus a formula for activism that cannot be easily subjugated, especially in its battle against an oppressor who has tried to utilize technology against them. So far, it doesn’t seem likely that the state will be able to narrow the technological, intellectual or artistic divides that separate it from the youth dissidents. This is largely because the divide is not only digital, but cognitive. It pertains to the production and consumption of knowledge. The “Political Process Perspective,” described by such political scientists as McAdam, McCarthy and Zald (1996), acknowledge the critical catalytic effect of new ideas as a spur to collective action. It emphasizes the necessity for “cognitive liberation” as a pre-requisite for mobilization.  This was very clear in the Badr Battalion 1 video, which highlights the stark difference between the artistic liberated generation compared to one which was reared in and upholds a culture of censorship. This is a generation that shares collective strategic efforts towards consciousness and seamlessly fashions collective understanding of the world in a way that legitimates and motivates action. This is a winning formula that cannot be easily undermined especially given the state’s archaic attempts to utilize technology against the intuition and creativity of Egypt’s cyber dissidents. Not only is the regime lagging behind, it has effectively lost the war of innovations. This is the new edge that the oppressive state will likely never match.

In this context, an update that proves the notion of “power of the people is stronger than the people in power,” (the subtitle of Wael Ghonim’s recently published book, Revolution 2.0) arrived after 18 days of the GUC Strike. On 15 March 2012, the picketing students yielded enough pressure; GUC Vice President confirmed that the expelled students would be reinstated. The sit-in, the daily media updates that informed and gathered support, the widely followed Twitter hashtags (#GUC and #GUCStrike) and even the cartoons circulating in cyberspace re-ignited hope and invited support from other effective groups, including solidarity from other universities’ student groups, the almighty Ultras Football fans, and three leading presidential hopefuls, Bothaina Kamel, Abdel-Moneim Abul-Fotouh and Khaled Ali.

The GUC Strike was an interesting and unique protest movement. It was a direct confrontation with Board of Trustee member, head of the university’s disciplinary committee and ex-minister of Transportation, Ibrahim El-Demiry, who was famous for a tragic and scandalous train blaze, which happened during his tenure, and cost 370 lives in February, 2002. Considered a member of the “Folool” by the revolutionary generation at the university, (comprised of up to 8000 undergraduates, mostly of the upper-middle class), they have adopted their confrontation against El-Demiry as an extension of their generation’s uprising. The Port Said massacre of the Ultras was a turning point on February 1st. Karim Kouzam, a GUC undergraduate student, was among the victims. This ignited the students’ anger and dragged them back to revolutionary action. They demanded a mural commemorating their late Khouzam alongside other demands related to uprooting corruption and instating transparency, plus other symbolic demands of removing placards referring to Hosni Mubarak and the stepping down of El-Demiry from the Board of Trustees. The university retaliated by expelling two students and banning three others from classes for their political activities, resulting in a nationwide student uproar.

[Cartoon by Carlos Latuff depicting the GUC protest confronting Ibrahim El-Demiry]

The significance of the uproar relates to the dynamics of the new social movements, a significant development that strengthened the popular demands and protests in Egypt. The realization of the common denominator between/among citizens and their common grievances connected the GUC protesters with the national revolutionary movement thereby transcending all ideological, religious, class, social and racial divisions/barriers. Combined with the internet and communication technology, the sense of belonging and association between the activists is intensified and amplified. In the GUC context, the late GUC first-year management student Karim Khouzam was a Copt, Ultras member, and eventually gathered his fellow-students around the disdain of SCAF as a symbol of oppression and the continuation of the old and persisting regime. 

Thus the GUC student uprising and sit-in outlived earlier university-based revolutionary action, and outsmarted its oppressor, eventually registering significant success. It could not be demonized or victimized by the usual negative propaganda, and had extra ingredients of success such as the convergence of various revolutionary movements on GUC students’ action as an momentary epicenter of the revolt against SCAF. This is particularly true during a demoralizing time for the January 25th protest groups. Khouzam’s funeral was more attended than the funeral of the 27 Copts massacred in front of the infamous Maspero building on 9 October 2011. This indicated more support because of the aforementioned factors, including the public sympathy for and participation of the Ultras fans (with Al-Ahly being the club with the largest following in Egypt, the Arab world and Africa), against a regime that is still persists. But this persistence is still being challenged. With all the turmoil happening in the vicinity of the Ministry of Defense in Abbasseya the last few days and with calls for an end of SCAF's rule escalating, the power of technology and human will are once again being tested and are proving decisive in rallying people to confront tyranny. In the end, and despite the overwhelming advantage the SCAF and the state have over the protest movement, they are chronically unable to calculate, expect, or keep pace with the quick developments from this new breed of protesters. Against every attempt to quell the youth revolutionaries, this generation has all the tools necessary to at least “exist,” and perhaps even prevail. 

[Ana Mawgood (I Exist)--Song by City Band]

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[1] "Emsek Floul" is a Facebook page, with 167,000 members, dedicated to exposing Mubarak’s regime’s pillars, affiliates and sympathizers who have been attempting to bandwagon the revolution to re-enter the post-revolution political arena despite their corrupt practices that speeded up the downfall of Mubarak’s regime

[2] Mosireen is a grassroots citizen media initiative that turned into an NGO dedicated to supporting the people's revolution through balancing the truth armed with mobile phones and cameras. The founding filmmakers and citizen journalists aim at empowering the voice of the street and dismantling the mainstream monopoly over media and information. The name translates to "determined."

[3] Askar Kazeboon initiative that took online and off-line activism to a new level. It is a popular alternative media effort to document the massacres by the ruling SCAF and how their media machinery contradicts itself. This happens by producing videos and playing them in the streets across Egypt to inform the people victim to mainstream media about violent realities they are unaware of. The Facebook page of the group has around 95,000 members, and followed by 47,000 on Twitter. Its street shows were effective and widely reported despite resistance by SCAF.

On 1 December 2011, Ezzedine Errousi, a Moroccan student from the city of Taza, was taking part in a student union protest on the Taza University campus. The students staged a peaceful protest against the deplorable state of the university. The university sent the local authorities to disperse the protest. Authorities then came on campus, arrested Errousi, stripped, and dragged him through the local souk to prison. He was charged with assaulting a police officer and sentenced to five months in prison, in addition to a fine. 

During his time in prison, his family reported that Errousi was subject to abuse and torture. His hands were broken and went untreated for twenty days. In protest against the nature of his detainment, Errousi began a 134-day long hunger strike that lasted until the day he was released on 1 May 2012.

Below is his first public statement since his release and a link to an interview with his sister:

 Read an interview conducted with his sister after his release on Mamfakinch

What baffles me most about Mona Eltahawy’s Foreign Policy article is that it does not accomplish the task it sets out for itself; it does not, in fact, answer its foundational question: Why do they hate us?

Instead of focusing on the why, identifying the structural reasons behind sexism and misogyny in the Arab world, Eltahaway provides illustrative evidence of the oppressions Arab women face; the list is by now all too familiar both in the West and in the Arab world. The images of a naked woman’s flawless body covered in a niqab of black paint, spread throughout the article (and on the Foreign Policy special sex issue cover) is only a bitter reminder of the resilience of a clichéd fetishization of the oppressed Muslim/Arab female body in the media, as pointed out by Seikaly and Mikdashi.

Eltahawy’s description—and it is merely a description, not an analysis—disappoints many Arab, Muslim, and non-Western feminists because it thrives on cultural essentialism: They, Arab men, hate us because this is how our culture is, because something is inherently wrong about the culture itself that they have created. Instead of moving the discussion beyond essentialist claims—the sort that Christian fundamentalists, racist Islamophobes, neoconservatives, LePen supporters in France, and Rick Santorum, to name a few propagate—Eltahawy  as a native speaker and herself a victim of Arab misogyny, provides fodder for such misconstrued claims that Arab feminists have been desperately trying to deconstruct. The disappointment lies not in the fact that Eltahawy made us look bad in public—as she claimed in a television appearance on MSNBC’s Melissa Harris-Perry show—but in the failure to perform the very task her article title promised: Providing an answer. The result is a tautological piece, that starts with the conclusion and misidentifies the who and the what of that hate.

To be sure, the answers to such a complex question cannot be provided in one article. However, Eltahawy’s intervention could have benefited from much needed constructive deconstruction. For instance, she unproblematically collapses her diverse oppressed subjects into one category: Arab women. The first problem with such a category is that it screens away the different—nationally-specific—types of oppression that these women face. As a Lebanese woman, I feel hated by the secular state and its civil laws that deny me the right to give my nationality to my hypothetical children. As a Muslim woman living in the United States, I feel hated whenever I am subjected to screenings and secondary inspections during my travels. As a Sunni woman I feel hated by the religious establishment that does not grant me an equal right of inheritance as my brother. As a young Arab woman, I feel hated by society—with its men and women—when I refuse to adhere and subscribe to certain values that I find outdated. As a woman from the middle-class, I feel hated by my government that enacts neoliberal economic policies that are making the prospects of one day renting my own apartment in the city nearly impossible. Oppression is always multilayered. It is exercised by different jurisdictions, institutions, and discourses—from the secular to the religious, from the local to the transnational, from the private to the public, from the social to the economic. This is what makes the hate so difficult to locate. This is what makes our predicament that more complex: we are waging daily struggles against a system that oppresses us in different spaces and multiple ways. And here I concur with Eltahawy, we have yet to remove the Mubarak in our head and in our bedrooms. But it is a deeply troubling and dangerous mistake to identify the Arab man—and the Muslim Arab man at that—as our sole enemy.

Here is another question that may help us provide better answers: What happens when, instead of using “Arab women,” we refer to “women in the Arab world” as an object of study?

The plights of migrant domestic workers in the Arab world—from Saudi Arabia to Lebanon—have recently found their way into public discourse. Thanks to activists and grassroots movements and initiatives, the current racist and deeply flawed sponsorship system regulating the work of migrant workers from South Asia and different parts of Africa has been subjected to public scrutiny and criticism. The most vulnerable segment of the already exploited class of migrant workers is the domestic worker who, of course, is a woman—a woman of color in deeply racist societies. What is both disturbing—and useful—in the case of the migrant domestic worker is that her oppression brings forth new culprits: Arab women themselves. As the managing head of the household, the boss, the Arab woman, the madame, is often the one who holds the key to the misery of these vulnerable women whose labor within the domestic sphere makes their plight invisible and much harder to regulate. Eltahawy urges the West not to fall prey to cultural relativism when formulating their foreign policies vis-à-vis Arab states: These laws and cultural norms oppressing women were not made by women! But…of course they are! And yes, women can also be oppressors!

This is where gender, as a category of analysis, hits its theoretical and practical limit. When we deploy gender as a man-woman binary (indeed, a very modern construction), we fail to account for the diversities within each supposedly uniform gender role. Instead of pitting man against woman, gender can be deployed to pit young woman against older woman, and nuances in the politics of gender oppression will ensue. [1] Indeed, as women of all ages and classes we are subjected to similar forms of oppression; but as I have attempted to show in my previous examples, our identities are themselves so stratified: to prioritize gender (and a binary formulation of gender at that) above all other categories of affinity—class, race, education, age, sexual orientation—is misleading at best and dangerous at worst. It pits us against others whom we have much more in common with, both in terms of our oppressions and our aspirations. It creates antagonisms where potential alliances could be forged. But it also, whether Eltahawy admits it or not, distinguishes us as a category that needs to be saved from the barbaric men of our societies. She rehearses the same imperial refrain that our enemy is always from within, never from without. Although she hints at the supportive role played by the United States in sustaining authoritarian regimes, she fails to openly recognize that its violence too is gendered and sexualized. Footage from Abu Ghraib is too recent, too fresh in our memories to be forgotten. [2] Only when we juxtapose the sexual torture in Abu Ghraib and the virginity tests of Tahrir Square do we get the full picture of the workings of power today, where militarized authorities serving global capital are aligned in their oppression of Arab bodies, blurring the gendered binary of us and them and the unidirectional vector of women oppression it presupposes.

Postcolonial feminisms have worked tirelessly to highlight the complexities of identities and resistance. Let us not undo all the blood, sweat, and tears with a comfortable yet taxing regression to a binary mode of thinking. Foreign policies, exclusionary domestic politics, racist immigration laws, and wars have been formulated and launched “at the tip of the clitoris,” to borrow Elizabeth Povinelli’s expression. [3] This is the preferred site where anxieties about national identity and cultural diversity are played out; this is where Eltahawy drives her argument of hate home. Povinelli shows that in the mid to late 1990s, debates on “genital mutilation” and clitoridectomy abounded in the Western European and American public spheres that were increasingly dealing with the presence of ethnic others. Outlawing these practices as barbaric made it possible to exclude the uncivilized other while producing the fantasy of a national civilized collective will. In the United States, the urgency that an Illinois legislature expressed around the issue in 1997, “which suggested that the Midwest was in the grip of a clitoridectomy epidemic, was perhaps rather more motivated by their anxiety that urban areas like Chicago were haunted by the Black Muslim movement.” [4] This is not to suggest that genital mutilation and other cultural practices should not be subjected to scrutiny, nor to accuse, as some did, Eltahawy of merely performing for a Western audience. These are discussions we should necessarily be having, in both local and international public fora. However, holding up the clipped bundle of nerves to public scrutiny is not an answer. It is only when we start looking beneath the nerve endings to identify the roots and layers of our multiple oppressions that we can begin to ask the right questions; and the best answers, to be sure, lie beneath the tip of the clitoris.

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In the third episode of The World Tomorrow, broadcasted on Russia Today, Julian Assange interviews Tunisian president, Moncef Marzouki. Marzouki speaks about his experience in prison and exile under the deposed Ben Ali regime. Assange asks Marzouki about matters pertaining to his role in post-Ben Ali Tunisia, the steps being taken towards a democratic transition, internet censorship, human rights, and his position on the situation in Syria. 

[This is a roundup of news articles and other materials circulating on Syria and reflects a wide variety of opinions. It does not reflect the views of the Syria Page Editors or of Jadaliyya. You may send your own recommendations for inclusion in each week's roundup to syria@jadaliyya.com by Monday night of every week]
 

Regional and International perspectives

Syria’s Kurds: Part of the Revolution? Thomas McGee on the politicization of the Kurdish youth in Syria

The Digital Arms Trade Jillian C. York on Obama’s executive order that prevents facilitating human rights abuses through the sale of “spyware” to the Syrian and Iranian regimes.

The Syria Course and the New International Balances Wassim Raad on the "global cold war climate" that emerged out of the Syrian uprising

Solving Syria: a path to peace? Johan Galtung argues that there is no single solution for solving the Syrian crisis.

More than just a pawn in a game? Chess chief's bold move to visit Assad Kirsan Ilyumzhinov, the President of the World Chess Federation and a Russian politician pays a ‘timely’ visit to Bashar al-Assad.

New Texts Out Now: Roger Owen, The Rise and Fall of Arab Presidents for Life   Roger Owen discusses his latest book, a timely publication shedding light on the power structures surrounding the Arab Presidents for life.

Principled Intervention in Syria  Adil E. Shamoo’s utopian scenario for an intervention in Syria

Imperialism and the Left

Don’t Let Syria Become Libya Hamid Dabashi on the “grotesque geography of imperial domination” preventing Syria to liberate itself.

The Plague of War in Syria Tarak Barkawi considers war to be a “state of being” rather than an instrument of policy.

Syria Regime Change: United Nations Duplicity, Kofi Annan and Diplomats Wives Felicity Arbuthnot’s fierce criticism of Western diplomacy.

An Imperialist Springtime: Libya, Syria and Beyond: Samir Amid Interviewed by Aijaz Ahmad  Samir Amid on those uprisings which the U.S. and its allies took “the initiative of initiating.”

"No Trust" Regarding US Role in the Syrian Uprising: Bassam Haddad on Al-Jazeera's "Min Washington"

On Syrian narratives

Free Syrian Army Struggles to Survive Amid Charges that It’s Executing Opponents On extrajudicial killings performed by regime opponents.

Syria: The Silent Majority Expands Anas Zarzar argues that the new neutral majority is what can “save Syria from extremism on both sides.”

New Illusion, Old Mindset  Sawsan Zakzak on three factors that prevent electoral competition in Syria.

Bullets and Home-made Bombs The Economist blatantly trying to legitimize the Free Syrian Army’s need for lethal equipment to fight the Assad regime.

Art and social media

After Daraa; Syrian Art Today Maymanah Farhat’s insightful comment on the transformations of the Syrian local art scene since the beginning of the Syrian Revolution

Policy and Reports

Numbers and Locations of People Fleeing the Violence in Syria Mapping of Syrians’ displacement within and outside Syria

Arguments on Safe Havens in Syria Turkey’s Center for Middle Eastern and Strategic Studies released this report providing a purely geostrategic analysis on potential locations for safe havens in Syria.

Arabic

المعارضة السورية ، أهمية العمل من الداخل

Munir Darwish argues that it is important for the opposition to shift its focus on working internally, rather than internationally, on relieving the situation in Syria.

سورية: خطر التقسيم والنزاع على اقليم “الجزيرة”

Sulaiman Yousef: the threat of Secession and division in Syria and the fate of the Kurds in the country. 

الطاقة وأبعاد الصراع على سوريا

Ziad Hafez offers an economic explanation of Russia's stance on the situation in Syria based on energy. 

المواطن السوري وصراع المفاهيم

Wesam Abdallah argues for the importance of defining and shedding meaning to the notions and concepts that are rising from the current situation in Syria. 

اللاذقية..أسماء المرشحين البعثيين لمجلس الشعب ومناصبهم وعودة "الإقطاع البعثي"

Eyad Khalil presents the names of the Baathist nominees for the Syrian People's Council upcoming elections and argues for the reemergence of the "Baathist Sector"s

اليسار في الزمن الثوري

Fawwaz Traboulsi offers his take on the role of the Arab Left during the time of revolutions.

نزار قباني و'حشيش' الديمقراطية 

Subhi Hadid commemorates the anniversary of the death of the Syrian Poet Nizar Qabbani and the influence and role of his poetry during the 50s in Syria. 

واشنطن والنظام السوري: حقوق إنسان أم انتفاضة شعب؟

Subhi Hadidi: the main reason behind the Syrian regime's prevalence is the support its receiving from the United States. 

من التاريخ القريب

Haytham al-Maleh presents an account of the lives and opinions of those politicians and activists who fled Syria in the 60s.   

 الطريق إلى الشيوعية عبر النفط...

أصدر الكاتب إسحاق الشيخ يعقوب (مواليد 1927) من أدب السجون كتاب"المساءلة"(دار الفارابي، 2011) بعد أن أصدر سيرته الذاتية في عمل موسع بمجلدين "إني أشم رائحة مريم"(2002/2010).هذه المقالة تقدم بورتريه مناضل سعودي.

إن مسيرة أي عربي شيوعي لا تبتعد عن أمور ثلاثة، أولها انخراطه في الحركة العمالية، وتعرضه للسجن والتعذيب، واضطراره للهروب واختيار المنفى. كذلك هي حياة المناضل والكاتب إسحاق الشيخ يعقوب. لكن أن تبقى تهمة الشيوعية تلاحقه حتى بعد انهيار المعسكر الاشتراكي لهو أمر مدهش. الماضي يلاحق صاحبه.

في هذا الكتاب الجديد" المساءلة"(2011) يرفع الإهداء إلى الرفيق الشاب خالد النزهة (قضى عام 1982 في السجن)، ويقدمه عبر قسمين اعتمد في الأول على النظرة التأملية في مسألة الحرية، وظاهرة الإرهاب، وتذكر أمه مريم، وتعقب المخابرات الأمريكية لقوى الحركة الوطنية.

والقسم الثاني وضعه على ثلاث عشرة محطة استعاد فيها ذكريات الملاحقة والسجن بداية من هروبه عام 1956، واعتقالات رفاقه وتعذيبهم في سجن العبيد عام 1956، ومساءلات الأمن السوري في السبعينيات، واعتقاله لمرتين عام 1982 و1999 بتهمة الشيوعية، واستعاد فصولاً من بعض كتبه السابقة "بصمات وجدانية" (2001) سيرة خالد النزهة أحد أعضاء الحزب الشيوعي عام 1975، و"ذاكرة الوطن"(2005) عن عبد العزيز المعمر رئيس لجنة العمل والعمال 1953ومستشار الملك سعود رحمه الله عام 1959.

ولد إسحاق في مدينة الجبيل (شرق السعودية) لعائلة فارسية تنتمي إلى قبيلة فرامرز مهاجرة إلى شرق الجزيرة العربية. تعلم أولياً على يد أخته عائشة، والتحق بمدرسة الجبيل الابتدائية (1948) التي أسسها وأدارها والده الشيخ يعقوب بن أحمد.

أتيحت له فرصة العمل في إحدى الشركات الفرعية التي نشأت بأثر من شركة النفط العربية الأمريكية أرامكو ( تأسست عام 1933) الموكل إليها التنقيب عن النفط وتصديره، وانضم إليها عمال عرب من مناطق مختلفة من الجزيرة العربية ومن العراق وفلسطين والسودان وحتى من إيطاليا.

تشكلت طلائع الحركة العمالية أواسط الأربعينيات غير أن شرارة انطلاقها بالإضرابات المتوالية لتحسين أوضاع العمال (ساعات العمل والأجور والخدمات الاجتماعية والصحية) كانت منذ عام 1945 بالإضافة إلى مشاركتهم مع الطلاب في مظاهرات ضد تقسيم فلسطين عام 1947 ، وقد شارك فيها يعقوب عندما كان طالباً في مدرسة الجبيل ثم الإضراب الثاني عام 1948 حين تضامن العمال العراقيون والسعوديون وانتهوا إلى المعتقل وظلامه ولم يخرجوا منه.

التحق إسحاق بالعمل في شركة أرامكو في رأس تنورة، وانتقل إلى شركة التابلاين في منطقة رأس المشعاب (قرب الكويت). كان يقضي فترات الإجازة في البصرة وملاهيها مع صديقيه العراقيين نوري الهواز، وجعفر الجزائري. وقد تفتح وعيه الفكري تلك الفترة فقد تمكن من الاطلاع على الأدبيات الشيوعية ممثلة في كتبها كرأس المال لماركس والبيان الشيوعي لماركس وانجلز والأدب الروسي عند غوركي ومايكوفسكي، وكان يهرِّب إلى رأس المشعاب نشرة القاعدة الصادرة من الحزب الشيوعي.

انتقل بعد أن شب حريق في منطقة رأس المشعاب إلى الخبر يعمل في شركة كري مكنزي ذات السنة التي شهدت الإضراب المفصلي لمدة 20 يوماً عام 1953 إذ تشكلت إثره لجنة العمل والعمال التي ترأسها الوطني عبد العزيز المعمر بتوجيه من الملك سعود، وتمخَّض عن هذا الإضراب تنظيم سري باسم "جبهة الإصلاح الوطني"(1954) جمع أفراده، وإسحاق الشيخ يعقوب أحد مؤسسيه، محاربة الاستعمار وتمثلاته في القاعدة العسكرية الأمريكية وصاغ بيانه رفيقهم محمد الهوشان.

ودبرت وشاية من مسؤولي أرامكو الأمريكان ضد المعمر لرفضهم مطالب العمال برمتها. وقد أنشأ أخوا إسحاق، أحمد ويوسف، صحيفة "الفجر الجديد" لتكون ناطقة بالحقوق العمالية والتطلعات الإصلاحية إذ اشترك في تحريرها مناضلو الجبهة نفسها، ومنهم عبد العزيز أبو سنيد ومحمد الهوشان وعبد الرحمن المنصور وعبد الله الجشي، غير أنها أوقفت قسراً بعد عددها الرابع.

وقد ظلت الأفكار والمبادئ الشيوعية تنتقل إلى يعقوب ورفاقه عبر إذاعة موسكو العربية، وصحيفة الصرخة (الناطقة باسم الحزب الشيوعي السوري اللبناني)، وتبنت قضية العمال صحيفتا الخميلة وصوت البحرين.

أفرزت "جبهة الإصلاح الوطني" حالة انشقاق أو تمدد نتج عنه تكوين قومي بعثي وناصري بالإضافة إلى شيوعي جذبت يعقوب إليه أفكاره حيث كانت تنطرح بين العمال أفكار تتخذ الشيوعية مساراً. وينتقد إسحاق طغيان ثقافة النقل لا العقل للفكر الشيوعي على العمل السياسي، وأفضى ذلك إلى جدل أيهما يسبق الآخر التحرر أم الإصلاح أم الثورة؟! وسيبقى ضد "الاستنباح القومي" على حد تعبيره!

احتدمت نشرات وبيانات الحركة العمالية ضد القمع واعتقال وتعذيب العمال، وقد اعتقل عبد الله -الأخ الأصغر لإسحاق- رهينة وقبله اعتقل كل من أحمد ويوسف. وفي زيارة الرئيس المصري جمال عبد الناصر الشهيرة عام 1956 إلى الظهران اخترق إسحاق الحشود التي تهتف باسم عبد الناصر ليسلمه خطاباً يحمل آلاف التواقيع مطالبة بالتدخل لإطلاق سراح المعتقلين في سجن العبيد بالإحساء من رفاقه العمَّال.

هرب إسحاق إلى البحرين بعد انضمامه إلى "جبهة التحرر الوطني" (تأسست عام 1958) مثلما هرب رفاقه إلى خارج البلاد . فإلى العراق ذهب علي غنام ليصبح بعثياً اشتراكياً، ومثله عبد العزيز بو سنيد ليكمل النضال شيوعياً، وناصر السعيد تنقل بين سوريا ومصر واليمن قبل أن يستقل ويصبح قومياً يسارياً- ناصرياً.

تولى إسحاق صياغة البيانات وإرسال المقالات إلى الصحف في سوريا ولبنان، ونقل قضية العمال عربياً ودولياً بعد أن مات رفيقه محمد الربيّع بالسل 1956 إذ أهملت جثته لثلاثة أيام أمام السجناء.

وحين كشف وجوده في البحرين هرب عن طريق أحد أقاربه في  إيران إلى سوريا حيث التقى برفيقه ناصر السعيد. وراحا معاً ينقلان قضية الحركة الوطنية في السعودية إلى زعماء وقادة مثيلتها في سوريا ولبنان عند القومي جورج حبش، والبعثيين ميشيل عفلق وأكرم الحوراني وصلاح البيطار، والشيوعيين فرج الله الحلو وخالد بكداش .

ذهب إلى العراق لكن لم تجدد إقامته هناك فعاد إلى الإقامة بين سوريا وبيروت. نشر أول كتبه "مطارحات فكرية" عام 1960، وتعرض لمساءلة الأمن السوري بسبب انتقاده للقومية العربية، غير أنه نشر كتابه الثاني " قضايا سعودية" في ذات العام، وتحصَّل على منحة للسفر إلى جمهورية ألمانيا الديموقراطية للدراسة بين عامي 1961-1965 فحصل على دبلوم في العلوم النقابية وآخر في الصحافة وثالث في العلوم السياسية.

عاد عام 1965 ليستقر في سوريا ويزور لبنان كلما اختنقت الظروف السياسية في سوريا. تعرف على زوجته المناضلة البحرينية نعيمة المرهون وتزوجا -بعد موافقة أهلها- بمباركة الزعيم الشيوعي خالد بكداش.

ويعرف أن نشاط الحركة الوطنية في صورتها القومية والشيوعية اندمج في ما أطلق عليه بـ "الحزب الديموقراطي الشعبي" عام 1969 الذي تبنى الكفاح المسلح انطلاقاً من تضامن مع الثورة الفلسطينية والعمانية، وقد نتج  إثر ذلك محاولة انقلاب عسكري واجهته السلطة باعتقالات وإعدامات وأحكام سجن حتى عام 1973.

وعندما تسلَّم الحكم الملك خالد إثر اغتيال الملك فيصل عام 1975 صدر عفو شامل على المعتقلين السياسيين في السجون، وعلى المنفيين.كما يلفت إلى أنها ذات السنة التي تأسس فيها "الحزب الشيوعي السعودي" عبر جيله الثاني من المناضلين بعد الجبهتين 1954-1958.

عاد إسحاق وعائلته إلى السعودية وعمل كاتباً بالشأن العام ونشر في أكثر من صحيفة سعودية في اليوم وعكاظ والرياض ومجلة اليمامة بالإضافة إلى الطليعة الكويتية.

وبرغم نشاط الحزب الشيوعي آنذاك إلا أن إسحاق كان بعيداً عنه عملياً غير أن ماضيه العمالي، ونشاطه السياسي بعد هروبه وتنقله بأسماء مستعارة ما بين 1956 -1976 يشكل إدانة له من السلطة السياسية.

في عام 1978 بدأت تظهر حركة احتجاج إسلامية ممثلة بجماعة "الدعوة المحتسبة" التي خططت لتعلن احتجاجها في حج عام 1979 الذي يوافق العام 1400 هجرياً حيث روجت لظهور "المهدي المنتظر" واعتصمت ( أو احتلت) الحرم المكي لأسابيع ثلاثة حتى تمكن الجيش من محاصرة الحرم ومهاجمته وإخراجهم، وقد نفذت أحكام إعدام في واحد وستين شخصاً في ميادين عامة في أكثر من مدينة وآخرون قضوا في السجن.

ولم يغب عن الحركة الوطنية ممثلة في التيار القومي واليساري، بالإضافة إلى الليبرالي، عن استمرار عملها السري والعلني حتى قبض على مجموعة كبيرة منهم عام 1982 كان من بينهم إسحاق الذي حمل تهمته القديمة الجديدة الشيوعية، ورفيقه الشيوعي الشاب خالد النزهة الذي توفي بالسجن تعذيباً 1982، وقد أهدى إلى روحه كتابه الجديد "المساءلة".

ونسيت السلطة، في صراعها مع الجماعات الدينية، رفاق إسحاق الذين أعادوا ترتيب بيتهم الشيوعي-أقصد الحزب- الذي تحول إلى "التجمع الوطني الديمقراطي" عام 1991 حيث أشغلها فوران حركات الاحتجاج الإسلامي عبر جناحيها الجهادي العائد من حرب أفغانستان والتنظيري - التحريضي حين انفلتت من عقالها لتهاجم الدولة بشكل طور البيان السياسي إلى بيان منطوق تمثل في المحاضرات النارية المسجلة والمتداولة بالكاسيت تطالب بما ظهر من تحليل متأخرة بـ"ولاية فقيه سنية"، ورافضة الدفاع عن البلاد لتركها تكون نهبة غزو من صدام حسين بعد أن احتل الكويت عام 1990!

وقد تطورت المواجهة بين الدولة والتيار الجهادي حيث أقدم على تفجيرات في مواقع نفطية وعسكرية داخل البلاد بين عامي 1995-1996. تحركت القوى الوطنية لتصوغ تعاقد سياسي جديد وتنطلق حركة اجتماعية متمثلة بحركة مطلبية غير أن الرياح تأتي بمالا تشتهي السفن عند إسحاق حيث اعتقل مجدداً، وهو بعمر السبعين بذات التهمة  الشيوعية !

ومنع من الكتابة في الصحف كما منع من السفر. وقد قام بالوساطة له حمد الجاسر حتى أن إسحاق رد الجميل بوضع كتاب عنه بعنوان"موج البحر"(2001).

انتقل إسحاق إلى العيش بالبحرين ونشط في تأليف الكتب فقد أصدر له صديقه الكويتي الرفيق أحمد الديين عبر دار قرطاس أكثر من كتاب في مجال الثقافة وهي "في الثقافة والنقد"(2001)، و"العلمانية طريق التقدم" (2004)، و"ما هي الليبرالية؟"(2007). وهي تكشف عن تحول في فكره الشيوعي والاشتراكي نحو الانفتاح إلى مناطق رحبة.كما أنه حفظ من ذاكرته الاعتراف لرفاق النضال فوضع أكثر من كتاب وفاء لهم في "بصمات وجدانية"(2001).

وقد ابتدع فن "البورتريه النضالي" حيال الكثير من الشخصيات التي عاصرها بأكثر من مجلد تحت عنوان "وجوه في مصابيح الذاكرة"( ٤ مجلدات)، نشرت متوالية(2001/2005/2007/2011). وهو بذلك يذكرنا بما قدمه من "بورتريهات ثقافية" الروائي خيري شلبي في سلسلة بدأت بكتاب "عمالقة ظرفاء" (1985) حتى آخرها "عناقيد النور"(2009)، والروائي  الذي هجر حزب البعث عبد الرحمن منيف في "لوعة الغياب"(1998)، والشيوعي اللبناني مؤرخ حزبه محمد دكروب "وجوه لا تموت"(1999).

وبدا استغراب إسحاق يوم اعتقل عام 1999 عن فارق المعاملة بين المحسوبين على الحركة الوطنية من قوميين وشيوعيين بثقافة التنكيل وبين المحسوبين على حركات الاحتجاج الإسلامي الجهاديين، ومن في حكمهم بثقافة المناصحة عدا عن تسهيل خروجهم فعل في كتاب " المساءلة":"حقاً إننا أمام أنظمة مجنونة تقدم الحرية للمجانين، وتصادرها من عقول الأحرار" .

وإزاء ملاحظاته وتحليلاته حول ظاهرة الجهاديين وضع كتاب "الإرهاب في جزيرة العرب"(2008).كما أنه لم ينس أن يضع كتاباً عن "عبد العزيز المعمر  ذاكرة وطن"(2005) الذي شهد بيته تأسيس "جبهة الإصلاح الوطني"(1954).

وفي مشهد التغييرات هذا العام لم يكن متفاجئاً حين اندلعت الثورات العربية، فهو لم يتورط في النظريات القديمة التي افترضت البحث عن زعيم لهذه الثورة في تونس أو مصر. بل نظر إليها باعتبارها إرادة شعبية لهؤلاء الشباب الذين آمن بهم. كما أنه يؤمل خيراً بأن المطالب التي سعى إليها منذ الخمسينيات مع رفاقه بدت إصلاحات الملك عبد الله تسعى في ذلك غير أنه يرى التغيير ولو جاء متأخر فهو سيأتي. كما أنه يؤمن بمقولة المفكر عبد الله القصيمي بأن "المَخْرَج يوجد عندما نريد لا عندما يراد لنا"، فلن يأتي بالمخرج لا ماركس ولا أبو هريرة بل الإرادة الشعبية!