شوق

محمد الشمري

 ولد الفنان العراقي محمد الشمري في بغداد عام ،١٩٦٢ ويقيم وبعمل في هيوستن، تكساس، منذ عام ٢٠٠٨. شارك  في العديد من المعارض وعرضت أعماله في العالم العربي وأوربا والولايات المتحدة.

 [شوق، محمد الشمري]

As the crisis in Syria continues to escalate, refugees are fleeing to the surrounding countries in huge numbers. According to the UNHCR, as of August 8 there are over 138,000 refugees registered for assistance – roughly 50,000 in Turkey, 39,000 in Jordan, 35,000 in Lebanon and 12,000 in Iraq. Many other displaced Syrian civilians are not registered, and perhaps over one million are displaced within Syria. Neighboring countries, local organizations, and the international community are providing assistance to those fleeing the violence.

In March the UNHCR planned for 140,000 refugees as of December 2012 and appealed for $84 million. Given the increasing number of refugees, the appeal was raised in June to $193 million. Less than half has been funded. The unified appeal is coordinated among seven UN agencies and 36 NGO partners to respond to the needs of Syrian refugees in Jordan, Lebanon, Turkey, and Iraq. In addition to funding from governments (the US is the largest donor by far), many national and religious charities from all over the world have contributed food aid, medical supplies, and services, as well as direct financial assistance to those providing aid and shelter to the refugees.

The photos below portray some of the experiences and conditions of the refugees in Jordan, Turkey, Iraq and Lebanon since March 2012.

JORDAN

Jordan opened its borders to Syrians when the conflict began more than 18 months ago, as it did with Iraqi refugees following the 2003 US-UK invasion of Iraq. The Jordanian government estimates that some 150,000 Syrians have crossed its border; nearly 40,000 have registered with UNHCR. Refugees were recently relocated from four overcrowded transit centers to the newly established Za`tari camp near Mafraq, 7 miles from the Jordanian-Syrian border. Jordan has now closed the Bashabsheh camp and King Abdullah Park.

[A Syrian refugee passes by the playground at the Al Bashabsheh refugee camp in Ramtha, Jordan, 17 July 2012. Image by Mohammad Hannon/AP Photo.]

Funding for aid comes from all over the world, and local campaigns are successfully collecting donations for the refugees. Morocco recently set up a field hospital in Za`tari camp with 75 doctors and nurses from the Royal Armed Forces Hospital and sent 60 tons of basic foodstuffs such as sugar, flour, pasta and oil, and 55 tons of rice and milk powder for babies. Saudi Arabia sent 43 trucks of food and water.

[Recently arrived Syrian refugees at Al-Bashabsheh refugee camp, in Ramtha, Jordan, 11 July 2012. Image by Mohammad Hannon/AP Photo.]

According to the UNHCR, when refugees arrive at the camps they are registered and given a tent assignment and ration card. They also receive household items, such as hygiene kits, blankets, and cooking supplies.  Families of more than 5 persons are given a second tent.

[Jordanians and Syrian refugees attend Friday prayers in the Ramtha Grand Mosque, on the first day of the holy month of Ramadan, in Ramtha, near the Syrian border, 20 July 2012. Image by Mohammad Hannon/AP Photo.]

[A Jordanian works at setting up the first Jordanian tent camp for Syrian refugees in Zataari, Jordan, near the Syrian border, July 29, 2012. Image by Mohammad Hannon/AP Photo.]

The newly founded Za'tari camp can host 10,000 refugees, but may be expanded to serve 113,000. Camp infrastructure requires piped water, electricity, and a level surface, as well as sanitation facilities and supplies. Providing these services is a logistical and costly challenge. In Za’tari camp, 168 tons of water are trucked in daily (roughly 50 liters per person, per day).

TURKEY

The Turkish government has taken responsibility for all Syrian refugees within its borders (50,227 as of August 8, 2012) and provided $15 million in aid. According to the UNHCR, “The Turkish Government has declared a temporary protection regime for Syrians, the core elements include: i) open border policy with admission to the territory for those seeking protection, ii) protection against forcible returns (non-refoulement) iii) access to basic registration arrangement, where immediate needs are addressed.”

[Turkish soldiers speak with Syrian refugees entering at a border crossing near Reyhanli, Turkey, 20 March 2012. Image by Burhan Ozbilici/AP Photo.]

[A Syrian boy walks in between hundreds of tents at a refugee camp near the Turkish border town of Reyhanli, 21 March 2012. Image by Selcan Hacaoglu/AP Photo.]

Turkey’s role as host outside of established UN systems suggests that it sees itself playing a significant role in the region, one mirrored by its early efforts to intervene diplomatically when the regime crackdown began in 2011. Turkey has also been providing hot meals, medical care, and educational programing for children.

[Syrian refugee camp in Kilis, Turkey. 12 April 2012. Image by Germano Assad/AP Photo.]

As the Syrian and Jordanian governments did with Iraqi refugees, the Turkish government calls the Syrians “guests” rather than refugees. Turkey has provided nine tent camps and a container camp, while three new shelter camps are being set up in southern and southeastern Turkey. As of early August, those crossing into Turkey are sent to Ceylanpinar camp in Sanliurfa, which already hosts over 13,000 Syrian refugees. The vast majority of those crossing into Turkey in August are from Aleppo and surrounding villages.

IRAQ

[Armed Syrian rebels stand guard as refugees flee Syria at the border crossing near the Iraqi town of Qaim, 25 July 2012. Image by Karim Kadim/AP Photo.]

Refugees are crossing into Iraqi Kurdistan and, more recently, via the al-Qaim border crossing into Anbar province, on the main Damascus-Baghdad highway. The majority of these refugees are from Deir al-Zor in eastern Syria, which has been a site of intense fighting. These borders are no longer under the control of the Syrian state. Two new camps have been established on the Iraqi side at al-Waleed and al-Qaim border crossings. In Iraqi Kurdistan (Duhuk, Erbil, and Sulaymania governorates), the Iraqi Department of Displacement and Migration (DDM), has allowed those living in the UNHCR’s Domiz Camp to apply for six-month temporary residency.

[Iraqi refugees from Syria arrive at the border crossing near the Iraqi town of Qaim, 25 July 2012. Over 15,000 Iraqis have fled the Syrian civil war over the last two weeks. Image by Karim Kadim/AP Photo.]

An estimated 750,000 Iraqis remain in Syria following the huge influx of Iraqis into the country after 2005, although as of 2012 only 100,000 were registered with UNHCR. Many had been awaiting resettlement to a third country. However, European countries stopped resettlement a number of years ago, and because of tense US-Syrian relations, US security personnel have not been allowed into Syria to interview the Iraqi refugees for two years. Despite this, many Iraqis stayed in Syria because of the relative security, low cost of living, and access to health care and education. Due to the fighting in Damascus and Aleppo, where almost all Iraqi refugees live, more than 21,000 Iraqis have returned to Iraq since July. 

LEBANON

The Lebanese government maintains open borders for Syrian refugees, and currently over 35,000 are registered throughout Lebanon. At the same time, people are going back and forth across the border: in the last week of July, some 11,000 Syrians entered the country, and a similar number also returned to Syria. According to UNHCR, because of the ongoing fighting Syrians are now allowed to renew their residency permits in Lebanon without having to return to Syria to do so. 

[Syrian refugees Lina al-Nahar, left, and Yussra Zardi cook at a house under construction, which they live in temporarily with their families, at the Lebanese-Syrian border town of Arssal, eastern Lebanon, 29 May 2012. Image by Hussein Malla/AP Photo.]

UNHCR interviews with refugees show that many of those who come to Lebanon plan to stay for a short time, until the fighting dies down. Most refugees to date are from the Homs and Idlib provinces. While many remain in the Bekaa Valley, many others have settled in and around Tripoli, staying in hotels or with family members or renting apartments. Fewer have ventured into the Beirut area, but with thousands now coming from Damascus and Aleppo, that may change.

[A Syrian woman is treated by a Lebanese nurse at a hospital in Tripoli, Lebanon, 30 May 2012. Hassna, 37, lost both legs in a mortar shell attack, which also killed her two children and her husband when they were fleeing their house on a motorcycle. Image by Hussein Malla/AP Photo.]

[A Syrian refugee woman, who fled her house in the town of Tal-Kalakh sits next to her baby at a school playground where she lives temporarily with her family and relatives, in Shadra village at the northern Lebanese-Syrian border town of Wadi Khaled, in Akkar, north Lebanon, 30 May 2012. Image by Hussein Malla/AP Photo.]

Both the Lebanese and Jordanian ministries of education make provisions for Syrian children to attend school. However, they must have Syrian school certifications, something that refugees rarely remember to bring with them. With the start of the school year less than a month away, UN officials are attempting to have this requirement waived. The Lebanese Ministry of Education is allowing children to attend school without the certifications, but in that case will not issue credit or reports of their attendance. The ministry has also provided a list of public schools no longer in use where refugees can take shelter. 

[Text by Rochelle Davis, photos selected by Michelle Woodward.]

In February 2012, the Israeli Supreme Court struck down the Tal Law, which for the last ten years afforded an exemption to the religious ultra-Orthodox from serving in the military or national/civil service. As the court found the law unconstitutional, the Knesset would not be able to renew the law in its current form. Following the decision, the Knesset formed a “Committee to Equalize the Burden,” headed by Knesset Member Yohanan Plesner (Kadima), to determine how to enlist all sectors of Israeli society, including Palestinian Arab citizens of Israel, into army service and/or national civil service.

Although the Plesner Committee did not directly recommend imposing national/civil service on Arab citizens of Israel, it generally recognized in principle that Arabs will be required to perform national/civil service. It did so by recommending the establishment of a second committee, to convene in September 2012, to examine promoting and enforcing national/civil service for Arab citizens. The Plesner Committee also recommended a five-year plan that involves increasing the number of civil service participants by 600 each year, bringing the total to 6,000 in 2016. The full report – Ynet summary (Hebrew) – Jerusalem Post

The Plesner Committee suggested that 80% of eligible religious ultra-Orthodox (Haredi) men be drafted by 2016. The Committee also approved a package of tough sanctions against anyone who attempted to evade conscription, including a fine of up to NIS 7,500, with NIS 75 per day for each additional day absent from service, and the cancellation of social security income, national housing allowances, and other incentives. The Knesset’s approval of these sanctions would show how serious the Israeli government is in imposing military/civil service on all, which will also impact Arab citizens as well.

After the Plesner Committee issued its recommendations, Netanyahu made numerous announcements, in which he stated that he intends to add civil service for Arab citizens into the planned proposed law. To that end, the Prime Minister contacted Arab MKs Mohammed Barakeh, Dr. Ahmad Tibi, and Dr. Jamal Zahalka, and informed them that he was determined to impose civil service on Arab citizens, under the name “Equality in Burden.” Netanyahu then brought Plesner’s recommendations for approval before the Likud party members of the Knesset, which did indeed adopt the recommendations after making adjustments to “ensure Arab recruitment.” The law was scheduled to come before the Knesset before the current session’s end in July 2012, but it did not due to intensive public and political pressure; instead the Kadima left the government.

Recently the Hebrew and Arabic press published numerous articles objecting not to the necessity of integrating Arabs into the civil service, but to its imposition as a requirement. This trend indicates the beginning of a fissure in Arab opinion, as well as a change in the perspective of the Israeli Jewish elite from accepting Arab exemption from service to a sentiment that all should serve.

Review of Arab Political Parties and Movements’ Positions on National/Civil Service

An examination of the positions of the active Arab political parties and movements in Israel shows that all, without exception, strongly oppose the imposition of a national/civil service requirement on Arab citizens in its current formulation and oppose the enactment of a new law in this regard.

An Angry Reaction of the National Committee of Arab Mayors (NCAM)

Following a meeting held by the NCAM on 7 June 2012 to discuss the issue, the NCAM adopted a resolution unanimously opposed to the national/civil service requirement in all ways, especially in the context of military authority, and enforced through law. They refused to resolve the issue through legislation with the Knesset majority. The NCAM called on the Plesner Committee to stop its procedures, pointing out that the Plesner Committee itself was initiated on the recommendation of the National Security Council and the Lapid Committee, which was formed to circumvent the recommendations of the Or Commission of Inquiry (which investigated the killings and injuries of Arab citizens of Israel by the police in October 2000) in order to preserve and justify the discriminatory policy. According to the NCAM:

“The Arab mayors and local authorities are ready to develop and expand community-based volunteer projects by increasing investment and expanding their reach, in coordination with the Ministry of Welfare and Social Services and the Ministry of Education, in complete separation from mandatory- or security-related service.”

This decision sparked a storm of reaction against the NCAM culminating in a joint statement signed by all members of the two Islamic movements, A-Tajamoa (Balad), Abna’ Al-Balad, and the Arab National Party. The joint statement read:

“We deplore the position of the National Committee [of Arab Mayors] and what it aimed or did not aim for, for it clearly and explicitly opened the door for civil service… the statement is meant to approve Civil Service if it is not from any security ministry, provided it is not mandatory. This is the opening that the Israeli establishment has long awaited, to begin civil service and then to expand it to all ministries, even security, and afterward to make it mandatory.”

Although the Democratic Front (Jabha) did not sign this statement, it issued its position through its General Secretary, who emphasized the party’s rejection of national/civil service in all its forms, but also noted that its belief that the NCAM did not call for civil service.

[This article first appeared in Adalah’s Newsletter, Volume 95, July 2012]

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

Regional and International Relations

U.S. and Gulf Allies Pursue a Missile Shield Against Iranian Attack Thom Shanker writes on the challenges facing the success of the missile defense shield installed in the Gulf region by the US government and the Gulf states, in The New York Times.

Piercing Together a Regional Missile Defense A related list of the Gulf states' expenditure on arms deals to build the missile defense shield, in The New York Times.

Reports and Opinions

New Trends in Arab Defense Spending Raymond Barrett argues that the mass protests in the Gulf states are pushing "defense spending in a different direction towards an increased focus on Special Operations, electronic surveillance, cyber-security and the capability to suppress mass protests," in Al-Akhbar English.

Repression Begets Rebellion in Saudi Arabia's Eastern Province Chris Zambelis provides an account to the under-reported protests in Saudi Arabia's Eastern Province.

Fouad al-Ibrahim: The Many Forms of Revolution A portrait of Saudi writer and activist Fouad al-Ibrahim on Al-Akhabar English.

Saudi Arabia plans new city for women workers only Caroline Davies reports on the Saudi government's plan to build a city dedicated exclusively to female workers, in The Guardian.

Saudi Arabia reverses ban on selling properties to Shiites Jumana al-Tamimi reports on the Saudi authorities' decision to annul a religious fatwa against the selling of real estate to Shiites.

Crisis in Yemen

US rejects criticism of Yemen drone strikes Geoff Dyer analyzes the statement issued by John Brennan, the White House counter-terrorism adviser, defending the US drone strikes in Yemen, in Financial Times.

Yemen's President Hadi restructures military A news report on the Yemeni President's move to restructure the army to curb the influence of his predecessor, on BBC.

Repression in Bahrain

US politicians urge Bahrain to free activist A news report on a letter signed by nineteen members of the American Congress demanding the release of Nabeel Rajab, on Al-Jazeera English.

Amnesty International

Oman: Intolerance of dissent mounts as a dozen more activists sentenced A statement issued by the Amnesty International condemning the prison sentences of twelve Omani activists and maintaining that it will consider them to be prisoners of conscience if they are sent to jail.

Saudi Arabia must charge or release detained dissident cleric A statement by Amnesty International calling upon the Saudi authorities to either release Sheik Nimr al-Nimr or to charge him with a recognizably criminal offense.

Bahrain must free prisoners of conscience after 'travesty of justice' A statement by Amnesty International condemning the continued imprisonment of thirteen Bahraini activists, including Abdulhadi al-Khawaja.

Market

Dubai jittery over business with Iran Camilla Hall examines the obstacles facing Emirati banks and energy companies in doing business with Iran after the New York state financial watchdog claimed Standard Chartered is hiding 250 billion dollars of contracts with Iran.  

Culture

An Occult Tale of Sexuality in Yemen Leah Caldwell analyzes Wajdi al-Ahdal's novel, A Land Without Jasmine, which "depicts the lives of Yemeni women under the ever-watching eyes of men," in Al-Akhbar English.


Arabic

أعترف بأني تلقيت خبر إطلاق حملة "وطن نظيف" بفرحة غامرة. فأحوال النظافة في شوارعنا وأحيائنا وصلت من السوء درجة أصبحت لا تؤذي جوارحنا فقط بل تهدد الصحة العامة وتنذر بانتشار الأمراض والأوبئة. لذا سعدت عندما علمت بهذه الحملة وبتبني رئيس الجمهورية نفسه لها وبإدماجها ضمن خطته للمائة يوم الأولى من حكمه.

وكنت قد كتبت في هذا المكان من سنة بالضبط منتقداً الإسلاميين على ولعهم بسؤال الهوية واهتمامهم بأشياء مثل المادة الثانية وإطلاق اللحى بينما الناس تعاني من مشاكل حياتية متراكمة ومعقدة. وكنت قد عقدت مقارنة مع إسلاميي تركيا الذين لم يلعبوا على وتر الهوية الرنان بل تصدوا لمشاكل مثل انقطاع المياة ولم الزبالة. وتساءلت يومها عما إذا كان إسلاميونا سيتعلمون من تركيا.

أما ثالث أسباب سعادتي بهذه الحملة فهو أنني، ومنذ ما يزيد على عشر سنوات، مشغول بتاريخ الزبالة في مصر، وأتردد على دار الوثائق القومية لدراسة تاريخ الصحة العامة في القرن التاسع عشر. وبعد طول بحث وصلت لنتيجة مؤداها أن الإنجاز الذي شهدته البلاد في مجال الطب والصحة العامة يفوق في أهميته كل إنجازات محمد علي المزعومة من توسع حربي وافتتاح مدارس و بناء مصانع. كما وقفت على العديد من الوثائق التي توضح العناية التي أولاها المسؤولون المصريون لموضوع الصحة العامة وتحديداً لم زبالة القاهرة والتعامل مع مخلفاتها الصلبة.

ومن أهم الوثائق التي عثرت عليها في هذا الموضوع، بل أظن أنها من أهم وأطرف وأشيق الوثائق التي عثرت عليها طوال عشرين سنة قضيتها في دار الوثائق القومية، وثيقة تعود لعام 1874 صادرة من "ديوان تفتيش صحة المحروسة" ومرفوعة للـ"أعتاب الخديوية" تتناول كيفية الارتقاء بمستوى الصحة العامة بالعاصمة. ومن أهم ما في هذه الوثيقة الطويلة إقتراح مقدم لرأس الدولة عما هو ضروري لنقل المخلفات الصلبة، آدمية وحيوانية، خارج المدينة. الاقتراح مبني على تقدير لما يخلفه كل إنسان (وحيوان) من مخلفات يومياً، وعدد العربات الضرورية لنقل هذه الأطنان. وتتطرق الوثيقة أيضاً لبيان مواصفات العربات، والطرق الواجب السير فيها دون سواها، وأماكن التخلص من هذه النفايات، وطرق معالجتها. 

سبب شعفي بهذه الوثيقة هو أنها توضح كيف ارتقت الإدارة المصرية في القرن التاسع عشر عندما اهتمت بما يهم الناس حقا. والسبب الثاني لاهتمامي بهذه الوثيقة هو ما تعبر عنه من تفكير علمي، واعتزاز بما تحقق من إنجازات، وثقة في قدرة الجهاز الإداري للدولة لعلاج مشاكل المجتمع الحياتية. في نظري، هي دي مصر يا عبلة مش الأهرامات والسبعة آلاف سنة حضارة.

ولذلك وبالرغم من حماسي المبدئي لحملة "وطن نظيف" للرئيس مرسي فقد خاب رجائي عندما وقفت على تفاصيل تلك الحملة. أنا لا أتوقع من الرئيس أن يكون قد درس تاريخ الصحة العامة في مصر في القرن التاسع عشر، ولكني أتوقع منه أن تعبر قراراته عن إدراكه أنه رئيس دولة ومسؤول عن جهاز إداري ضخم، قد تشوبه الكثير من العيوب، ولكنه قائم بالفعل ولا يجب تجاهله والتصرف بأن مصر لا توجد بها مؤسسات وكأنك يا بوزيد ما غزيت. 

ثم أن لا الرئيس ولامستشاروه توقفوا لحظة ليقولوا لنا، بعد أن نلبي دعوتهم وننزل لكنس الشوارع، ماذا نفعل بما كنسناه؟ ولا طرحوا أسئلة من قبيل: ما هي السياسة الأمثل لتدوير الزبالة في مدن مصر؟ وهل كان الاعتماد على شركات أجنبية للم الزبالة قراراً صائباً؟ وما هو الدور الأمثل للمحليات في التصدي لهذه المشكلة العويصة؟

عوضاً عن كل هذا فضل الرئيس مرسي ومستشاروه من جماعة الإخوان التصدي لهذه المشكلة كمشكلة تتعلق بسلوكيات المواطنين وأخلاقهم، وقدموا حلاً أخلاقياً لمشكلة اجتماعية واقتصادية وسياسية. وبذا يبرهن الإخوان للمرة الألف تهافت منطقهم المبني على خلط الدين بالسياسة والمعتمد على إقحام الأخلاق في مسائل إدارية ولوجستية وسياسية.

[ نشر للمرة الاولى في "أخبار الادب" المصرية وتعيد جدلية نشره بالاتفاق مع الكاتب.]

President Mohamed Morsy’s recent decision to force Egypt’s most prominent military leaders into retirement has been lauded as a major step toward the demilitarization of the Egyptian state. For some optimists, his decision represents the triumph of the revolution over its adversaries inside the military establishment. There is indeed little doubt that this event will prove monumental and may be the prelude to a new era in civil-military relations in Egypt.

At the same time, as compelling as it is to interpret these recent developments as a civilian coup against Egypt’s military rulers, there are some indications that they are the product of a movement within the military’s own ranks to avert an impending confrontation with civilian political forces and to reconfigure the army’s role in politics in a way that leaves its autonomy and long-term interests intact.

The immediate circumstances surrounding Morsy’s decisions remain clouded, and we are certainly learning new details as the situation unfolds. However, the context in which this event emerged is quite illuminating. Worthy of notice is that talk of overturning the Muslim Brotherhood’s hold over the presidency have intensified in recent weeks, particularly in light of calls for mass demonstrations on 24 August against what some have characterized “the Brotherhood’s rule.”

Leading these calls are figures close to the military, most notably talk show host Tawfiq Okasha and former MP Mostafa Bakry, who in the past have seized every possible opportunity to support, justify and promote the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces’ position throughout the post-Mubarak era.

Calls for protests circulating in online forums have reportedly included threats to burn down the Brotherhood’s offices throughout Egypt. Former MP Mohamed Abou Hamed, one of the vocal supporters of the call for protest, went as far as saying that 24 August would not simply be a million-person rally, but rather a real revolution akin to the events of 25 January last year. Interestingly, calls for bringing down the “Brothers’ rule” coincided with (now former) Defense Minister Hussein Tantawi’s public statement on 15 July that the military would not allow for any “one faction” to rule over Egypt, in a clear warning against the Brotherhood’s dominance of the political arena.

These trends, coupled with the developments that followed, signal that some military leaders may have been prodding their allies among opinion shapers and friendly media outlets to promote the image of popular support for a coup d’etat against the Brotherhood. There is even evidence that the some leaders within the military have actively tried to undermine Morsy’s performance in public eyes, possibly to give pro-coup voices further ammunition in the run-up to 24 August.

For instance, while Morsy was participating in an African Union summit in Ethiopia in mid-July, military police forces withdrew from their security posts at public hospitals under vague circumstances. Their withdrawal paved the way for attacks by thugs, and for subsequent strikes by hospital personnel who were aggrieved by the absence of security, not to mention public criticism of Morsy for “failing” to deliver on his promise to bring back security to Egyptian streets.

While it is easy for many analysts to dismiss these patterns as yet another manifestation of government incompetence, accompanied by Okasha’s usual sensationalist bluffing, it seems that some leaders within the security sector have took these developments seriously. Last week, Egyptian authorities suspended Okasha’s television station and began investigating him for allegations of “inciting his viewers to attempt to murder President Mohamed Morsy and of supporting a military coup d’etat.”

On Saturday, copies of Al-Dostour were confiscated after the newspaper ran a series of headlines that warned against the Islamization of the state by the Brotherhood, and, in so many words, called for a coup against Morsy. The last of a series of headlines on the newspaper’s front page read:

“Saving Egypt from the coming destruction will not happen without the unity of the army and the people, the formation of a national salvation front consisting of political and military leaders, and the upholding an unequivocally civil state with military protection, exactly like the Turkish system…If this does not happen in the next few days, Egypt will fall and collapse, and we will regret [wasting] the days that remain before a new constitution is announced…People’s peaceful protest is imperative and a national duty, until the army responds and announces its support for the people.”

These developments suggest the recent upsurge in public calls for a coup by pro-military figures mirrors an inclination on the part of some senior SCAF leaders to prepare for a series of steps to undermine, if not completely sideline, Morsy’s presidency. Such an inclination is not surprising, given that it was embarrassingly clear to the public that SCAF leaders, particularly Tantawi, seemed uneasy with the idea of showing any hint that they were accountable to civilian leadership.

Not only was Tantawi keen on being portrayed in public as the country’s co-president, but it was reported that he had refused to attend Cabinet meetings chaired by newly appointed Prime Minister Hesham Qandil to avoid any insinuation that he answers to a civilian leader. It could also be that Tantawi and others felt compelled to undermine Morsy’s presidency after sensing the elected president is beginning to gain the acceptance of other senior military leaders, and that they were willing to concede more powers to him than the military’s conservative guard would like.

The ensuing response of other military officers was to help eject their imprudent leaders out of fear that the commitment of their superiors to prolonging their fight with the Brotherhood could drag military forces back into a stalemate with anti-SCAF popular mobilization and greatly weaken the military’s grip over its long-standing political and economic privileges. It was not surprising, therefore, to learn from presidential palace insiders that Tantawi and Sami Anan, the former armed forces chief of staff, were surprised when they learned they had been sacked.

In other words, what we have observed on 12 August was not a coup, per se, but a preemptive coup aimed at preventing a serious political — and potentially physical — confrontation between the military and the Brotherhood, and a possible new wave of anti-SCAF popular mobilization.

The way these events have unfolded further suggest it is highly unlikely that Morsy or the Brotherhood could have led this initiative single-handedly, without the support, if not the leadership, of senior military officials. For starters, SCAF member General Mohamed al-Assar, who was rewarded in the recent reshuffle, was quick to tell media outlets shortly after Morsy’s decision was announced that the president had in fact consulted with military leaders before retiring Anan and Tantawi.

It is also hard to imagine that state TV officials would have agreed to air news of such thorny decisions without some assurance that the relevant wielders of power inside the military establishment are on board and that they would not be reprimanded for any wrongdoing. Additionally, the honorable exit awarded to Tantawi and Anan, who were both granted state honors and presidential advisory appointments, suggest that a friendly military hand was involved in ensuring that Morsy’s decision would signal that military leaders are to be respected and revered in the public eye, notwithstanding political differences.

More importantly, such an honorable exit may also signify an attempt by incumbent officers to send the unequivocal (and self-serving) message that the era of public humiliation of military leaders and their prosecution for past wrongdoing has not started, and perhaps never will.

There are other reasons to believe that the recent reshuffles are not part of a purely civilian coup led by Morsy. Such an exceptionally daring and high-risk move is not consistent with the rather cautious tendencies that the Brotherhood and its leaders have exhibited over the past year and a half, as well as its seeming pragmatism in accommodating military generals who have long held the power to overturn the Brotherhood’s political gains.

It is difficult to imagine Morsy deciding to sack military leaders without some assurance that other officers would support such a decision and not take the side of their superiors against the president. In fact, days before the recent reshuffle, Morsy implicitly recognized military leaders’ autonomy in managing their own affairs as per the controversial 17 June supplement to the Constitutional Declaration, by tasking Tantawi to replace Hamdy Badeen, commander of the military police, instead of doing so himself.

The way the decision was framed reflects a conservative interpretation of the declaration, specifically one that obligates the president to defer to the officers on senior military appointments. This is hardly the behavior of a leader who is preparing for a full-fledged confrontation with the SCAF. Rather, this shows that until very recently, Morsy was still playing by the SCAF-dictated rules of the game, and there were no signs that he was in fact planning to “go to the mattresses.”

What seemed to have changed on 12 August is that SCAF ceased to be a unitary actor, and support among senior military figures, such as new Defense Minister Abdel Fattah al-Sisi and General Mohamed al-Assar, for a leadership change within their own ranks became more decisive. These officials, who would later be rewarded in the ensuing reshuffle, probably feared Tantawi and Anan were poised to pull the military into further confrontations with the Muslim Brotherhood and other anti-SCAF political forces, through the orchestration of a possible coup d’etat.

Such a prospect would not only prolong the military’s highly taxing and unpopular role in governing Egypt and managing the country’s transition, but could also jeopardize the institution’s long-term political and economic interests. Revolting against elected officials could lead to international isolation and possibly strained relations with Washington, which continues to provide Egypt with an annual US$1.3 billion in military assistance.

Moreover, entering into an uncertain confrontation with popular mobilization raises a host of unpleasant questions about the future of the military’s long-standing privileges — not to mention the institution’s coherence and integrity — should SCAF leaders suffer a defeat a la 11 February 2011.

Heightening these fears is that the image of the military has suffered greatly after the recent attacks by militant groups against Egyptian troops in Sinai, where the army is still engaged in many unresolved battles. Thus the preemptive coup coalition opted to save the military by cooperating with Morsy in taking steps to sideline their leaders and preclude any prospect for deepening the military’s role in the political sphere.

Although it remains unclear what these developments signify for the future of Egypt’s still ongoing struggle for revolutionary change, a number of preliminary observations are in order.

Firstly, to repeat one of the major lessons of the last year’s eighteen-day uprising, personnel reshuffles and meaningful institutional change are not one and the same. Simply that the military has undergone an internal purge and conceded presidential and legislative powers to Morsy on paper does not necessarily mean the institution is ready to give up its long-standing privileges. These include the undue power the military enjoys in shaping defense and national security policy, as well as the political and financial autonomy of its operations, budget and its vast revenue-generating economic empire from elected civilian institutions and public accountability. In fact, the military’s recent concessions to civilian leaders may have been aimed at protecting these very privileges, not giving them up. In other words, there may be a long road ahead in the quest for meaningful civilian oversight of military institutions and leaders.

Secondly, civilian control of the military is but one of many obstacles that Morsy faces in asserting his authority over state institutions, in which anti-reform elements will likely continue to resist democratic oversight and accountability. For example, contrary to popular belief, the military is not the only government bureaucracy that engages in revenue-generating activities that remain beyond the reach of elected institutions.

Egyptian bureaucracies are padded with a variety of off-budget private funds, which generate an estimated LE100 billion every year, or twenty percent of the country’s official government spending in the fiscal year 2011/12. What this means is that inside every bureaucracy, civilian or military, is a “mini-SCAF” that is predisposed to protect its financial autonomy and anti-democratic privileges from elected leaders. Whether Morsy will choose to confront or accommodate entrenched bureaucratic powers inside other state institutions remains to be seen.

Finally, and most importantly, Egypt’s still inconclusive struggle for revolutionary change cannot be reduced to power politics between the military and the Brotherhood. While bringing the military under the control of truly accountable civilian officials may be one important step toward achieving “bread, freedom and social justice,” it is certainly not enough. For those who believe that the January 25 Revolution was a call for a more humane contract between Egyptians and their rulers, and a demand for a responsive and just state that delivers to its own people, it seems that the real battle is far from over.

[A version of this piece is due to appear in the print edition of Egypt Independent.]

يجادل البحث في هذه الجزئية أن الحلم الاجتماعي والخيال السياسي في مصر متمحوران حول الأمن والفزع وبشكل رئيسي حول ثلاثة نقاط. الأولى هي تأمين وظيفة عمل والثانية هي الخدمات العامة للمنطقة من خلال نواب مجلس الشعب. والثالثة هى سلامة الجسد من ممارسات الشرطة أو البلطجية. ولهذا كانت لجان التفتيش الليلية أو في بعض النقاط المهمة في الشوارع المصرية بمثابة الرعب الأكبر لراكبي المكيروباص. أضف إلى ذلك توغل مؤسسة الشرطة في المناطق الشعبية على وجه الخصوص من خلال المخبرين والأمناء. وهنا لا يتعامل المخبر أو الأمين ككونه فرداً في المجتمع. ولكن تتجسد وتحل فيه سلطة المؤسسة الشرطية.

وبما أن الشرطة كانت الجهاز الأكثر أهمية في الدولة في نظام مبارك وكانت تفعل ما يحلو لها ويدها مطلقة في وعلى المجتمع كان المخبر هو الآخر ذو يد طائلة. ولم يكن مستغرباً أن أحد أحلام الفتيات في مصر وبعض الأهالي في المناطق الفقيرة هو الزواج من ضابط شرطة أو مخبر أو أمين شرطة. فقد كان هذا يعني توفير الأمن لها ولأهلها بالإضافة إلى التلذذ بقدر كبير من ممارسة السلطة وتدوير القهر على آخرين. وبالطبع كان البطجي هو الآخر أحد أهم أبطال المشهد اليومي. فتقارير كثيرة تشير إلى استخدام الشرطة وبالأخص جهاز أمن الدولة لجيوش من البلطجية. وهو ما يعني أن البلطجي لم يكن خارجاً على القانون بل كان جزء أصيلاً من تركيبة السلطة في النظام السياسي وهو انعكاس آخر للمؤسسة.

وهكذا يتضح أن إنتاج الفزع واللاأمن كان عملاً ممنهجاً للسيطرة على المجتمع. وبالطبع فإن غياب مشروع تنموي لنظام مبارك ومساحات العشوائيات الواسعة التي شهدها عصره ساعدا على تخصيب التربة الاجتماعية لهذه الممارسات ولخلق حالة من الفزع الاجتماعي الدائم. وقد أوضح فيلم مثل "حين ميسرة" للمخرج خالد يوسف عمق الواقع الاجتماعي والعلاقات المتداخلة مع السلطة والتي تمثلت في علاقة بطل الفيلم الذي تحول إلى بلطجي وتابع لجهاز الشرطة. ولكن لم يخرج الفيلم من إطار خلق الفزع وتنميط سكان هذه المناطق وتصويرهم –حتى وإن لم يرد مخرج الفيلم ذلك- على أنهم تهديد أمني كبير وأنهم ينتظرون اللحظة المناسبة للانقضاض على بقية المجتمع وتجسيدهم كتهديد من ثورة الجياع. وهي النظرية التي أثبتت الثورة المصرية فشلها.

إلا أن هذا النوع من الخوف والفزع قد تجلى بوضوح في معمار وهندسة المدن أو الأحياء الجديدة داخل القاهرة على سبيل المثال. فهذه المدن تتسم بارتفاع أسوارها المذهل وتشديد النزعة الأمنية على المحيط الخارجي وعملية المراقبة والتأمين تقوم على مبدأ استباقي؛ أي أن المراقبة تتم على ما هو خارج أسوار المدينة وليس على داخلها. وكأن المدن الجديدة في القاهرة تحاول حماية نفسها من المدينة القديمة. وهذا يؤدي إلى خلق ثنائية جامدة في المجتمع وفرزه بشكل شديد على أساس أمني وطبقي. وهو الأمر الذي يقود إلى إنقسام المجتمع على ذاته وتعزيز الخوف بين شرائحه المختلفة. بل أكثر من ذلك؛ فهذا النمط من التقسيم يولد قدراً هائلاً من الحقد عند طرف، ومن التوحش عند الطرف الآخر.

ولقد عبرت رواية "يوتوبيا" لـ-أحمد خالد توفيق بشكل خيالي/واقعي عن هذين العالمين والواقع المادي والنفسي لكل منهما. فعلى طريقة فرانز فانون يصف خالد توفيق مدى وحشية العالم المترف وعدم تورعه في استغلال الثروات ونهبها وما يتولد من إنحطاط أخلاقي في مثل هذا المجتمع وعدم اكتراثه بأي منظومة للقيم غير اللذة وشهوة الاستهلاك والهوس المفرط بتأمين الذات من الآخر. ويستعين أفراد العالم الفوقي/المدن الجديدة بحراسات خاصة مما يكون منظومة أمنية مستقلة عن الدولة وبقية المجتمع، إضافة للأمن الذي توفره الدولة لهذه المناطق بحكم أن سكانها هم النخبة الحاكمة. وفي الرواية-مثلما في الحقيقية- تحظى هذه الأحياء بكافة الخدمات. وفي العالم الثاني يصف لنا توفيق، كما نرى على أرض الواقع إذا قارنا حياً مثل التجمع الخامس بعشوائيات القاهرة- عمق تدهور الأوضاع وما ساءت إليه الأمور من فقر وهمجية وحالة الذل والمهانة السائدة في هذا العالم. وفي حقيقية الأمر أن مثل هذا النمط في البناء وهندسة المساحة وهيكلتها يعكس طبيعة استعمارية أمنية عسكرية في بناء المجتمع. فهو عودة مرة أخرى إلى الهيكلة التي تمت في عهود الاستعمار. 

فعلى حسب وصف فرانز فانون تقوم تلك المجتمعات على هذا التقسيم بين مساكن السكان الأصلين وبين المستعمر الذي تلتحق به لاحقاً النخبة الوطنية التي يخلقها. وعلى حسب وصف فانون فالسكان الأصلين يبدأن في اشتهاء كل ما يملكه المستعمر حتى نسائهم (Fanon, 2004: 3-4). ولقد عبر أحمد فؤاد نجم والشيخ إمام بوصف رائع لتلك الثنائية في أغنيتهم التي حملت أسم "هما مين وإحنا مين". وفي هذه الأغنية يتم وصف الاختلاف في المسكن ونوعية النساء والطعام وإيقاع الحياة بشكل عام ومن هم وقود الحرب. وهذه الهندسة للمجتمع تعكس تغول النزعة الأمنية الوقائية لفئة من فئة أخرى من أبناء نفس الوطن. وينتشر في البنية العقلية لكلا الطرفين أمر خطير وهو الخوف المتبادل؛ فالطرف الأغنى عنده شعور دائم بأن المهمشين سيقومون بالانقضاض عليه في أي لحظة لسرقته. وكذلك الطرف الفقير؛ فهو يشعر أن الطرف الغني سينقض لهدم مناطقه في أي لحظة لبناء مشاريع استثمارية على ما تبقى من أرضه ومساكنه المهلهلة. وبسبب هذه الثانئية الأمنية والطبقية تولد حالة شديدة من العداء الكامن في نفسية كل طرف للآخر.

وعلى نطاق مجتمعي أوسع من العشوائيات، تسبب غياب دور الدولة في التوظيف والمحور الاقتصادي بشكل عام وتوحش سياسات الخصخصة بالأخص بتحول جذري في المجتمع حيث تمحور حلم قطاعات واسعة من الطبقات المعدمة وغير المعدمة حول تأمين وظيفة عمل. فالأهالي –من مختلف الطبقات- التي تحملت معاناة كبيرة في تعليم الأبناء أصبحت أمام عبء آخر أكثر ثقلاً من العملية التعليمية ذاتها وهو توظيف هذه الأعداد المهولة من الخريجين. ولقد تخلت الدولة عن هذا الدور بشكل كامل تقريباً مع اكتمال مشروع الخصخصة وتبني السياسات النيوليبرالية مع حلول الألفية. وصارت عملية التوظيف في يد رجال الأعمال إما بشكل مباشر عن طريق التعيين فيما يملكون من مؤسسات وشركات اقتصادية أو من خلال الوساطة في شركات أجنبية ومؤسسات دولية تربطهم بها شبكة علاقات واسعة من المصالح الاقتصادية والاجتماعية. ولقد ضم الحزب الوطني أغلب رجال الأعمال في مصر. أضف إلى هذا هيمنته الكاملة على النظام العام حيث كان يمثل النظام السياسي والاقتصادي والدولة معاً.

ومن هنا نستطيع فهم شيئين. أولاً، حرص مرشحو الوطني من رجال الأعمال على الوصول إلى البرلمان لضمان استمرار مصالحهم الاقتصادية من خلال احتلال البنية التشريعية في الدولة. ثانيًا، نجاح أغلب هؤلاء المرشحين ودعمهم من قطاعات جماهيرية واسعة. فلقد تم اختزال الجانب الاقتصادي في رجال الأعمال وتم اختزال الدولة في الحزب الوطني. فهذا التماهي بين النظام السياسي والدولة والحزب الوطني جعلنا أمام الدولة متجسدة في كيان واحد من بداخلها يحظى ببعض ما يمكن أن تقدمه له الدولة من خدمات. أما من هو خارجها فهو خارج العملية بالكلية وعليه البحث عن منافذ أخرى لا علاقة لها بالدولة. ومن هنا حدث تزاوج بين الحلم الاجتماعي والوعد السياسي. والحقيقية أن الوعود المقدمة من مرشحي الحزب الوطني المنحل لم تكن تمثل وعود مرشحين سياسين على الأطلاق، بل كانت وعود دولة.

ومن هنا نستطيع أيضاً فهم صعوبة منافسة أحزاب أخرى للحزب الوطني باستثناء الإخوان المسلمين. لعدة أسباب. أولاً: تغلغلهم داخل البينة الاجتماعية وتواجدهم الدائم مع الجماهير من خلال مؤسساتهم الممتدة من التعليم إلي الصحة وبساطة الأفكار وقدرتهم على فهم الواقع اليومي المعاش للجماهير. ثانياً: خطابهم الممزوج بين الديني والخدمي. ثالثاً: شبكة المصالح الاقتصادية القادرة على منح خدمات للمواطن بشكل يومي. رابعاً، قدرتهم على الوفاء بالوعد السياسي للجماهير. خامساً: ثقة قطاعات واسعة من الجماهير في هذه الخدمات؛ حيث لا تنقطع بعد الانتخابات ولا ترتبط بالمكسب أو الخسارة السياسية. علي سبيل المثال، المؤسسات الطبية المختلفة المتواجدة في الإسكندرية التابعة للإخوان المسلمين لا تتوقف عن تقديم خدماتها بل تتسم في كثير من الأحيان بالجودة. سادساً، تشابه بنية تنظيم الجماعة ومحاكاته لفكرة وتنظيم الدولة وتملكها لبنية تحتية موازية. وبهذا تستطيع الجماعة مناورة الحزب الوطني حيث لا يتفاعل كلاهما كأحزاب أو حركات ولكن كدول مع فارق الإمكانيات والقدرات وتفوق كل منهم على الآخر في مواقع مختلفة.

ولنتناول سريعاً النقطة الأخيرة وهى علاقة الفساد بتوليد الأمن والفزع. كما أشرنا سابقاً ضرب الفساد بجذوره أفقياً ورأسياً في المجتمع المصري والدولة والنظام السياسي. إلا أن الأمر الأخطر هو تحول الفساد إلي نظام حياة حيث لا يستقيم النظام بدون ممارسة قدر كبير أو صغير منه حسب ما تقتضيه الحاجة. وهو ما يسبب حالة خوف كبيرة في قطاعات واسعة من المجتمع من محاولة انتزاعه. حيث يتسبب انتزاع الفساد لتعرض المنظومة العامة للانهيار والتخبط. وهو الأمر الذي عبر عنه سائق شاحنة نقل ثقيل في حوار دار بينه وبين الباحث في إحدى اللجان الشعبية. كان الرجل ناقماً بشدة على الثورة لدرجة تثير الاستغراب. وحينما تم سؤاله عن وظيفته هل تعرض لمضايقات أمنية واستغلال من قبل أفراد الشرطة، أجاب أنه أمر معتاد ويحدث له بشكل يومي وفي محافظات كثيرة. إلا أنه قبل الثورة كان يعرف كيف يتعامل داخل المنظومة التي ألفها وتملك مفاتيح التعامل معها. وقد قال نصاً: قبل الثورة كنت أحضر الخمسين جنيهاً للأمين أو المخبر في أماكن الكمائن المعروفة وبعد إعطائه له كانت تسير الأمور على مايرام أما الآن فأنا لا أعرف كيف أتصرف. ويشير الدكتور محمد بشير صفار أن الفساد في مصر تحول إلى أحد أهم ميكنزمات إعادة توزيع الثروة. وهكذا يرتبط الفساد هو الآخر بحالة شديدة من الأمننة. لأن حتى انتزاع الفساد لم يعد قضية سياسية أو اقتصادية في المقام الأول ولكن صار أزمة أمنية تهدد مسار الحياة اليومية للمواطن المصري.

لم يتم تطوير الأفكار بخصوص الخلفيات النفسية والاجتماعية للعالمين من خلال قراءة فانون ويوتوبيا فقط. بل تمت في حقيقية الأمر قبل قراءة كل منهما من خلال تجربة عملية للباحث في أحداث منطقة طوسون الشعبية بالإسكندرية. حيث قامت قوات الأمن والمحافظة باجتياح المنطقة والهجوم على الأهالي وسحق منازلهم لصالح بعض المشاريع الاستثمارية. وكان الباحث أحد النشطاء والصحفين المهتمين بتلك القضية وقضى وقتاً طويلاً معها ومع أهالي طوسون ومازالت تربطهم به علاقات طيبة حتى اليوم. 

[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

Jalil Refugee Camp: Hosting Syria’s Displaced for Iftar Rameh Hamieh on the humanitarian crisis endured by Syrian and Palestinian refugees from Syria in the Bekaa Valley.

Lebanese Services to Syria’s Warring  Sides Ibrahim al-Amin argues that politicians from the March 14 coalition “have been participating in the detonation of Syria itself.”

Is Assad trying to export Syria's crisis to Lebanon? Patrick Galey analyzes Hezbollah’s inaction in the case of Michel Simaha, a “pro-Assad politician allied to Shia Hezbollah arrested by a Sunni, anti-Assad police.”

A Murderous Optimism About Syria Deepak Tripathi  draws parallels between the US arming of the mujahidin in Afghanistan in the 70s-80s and the current arming of Syrian rebels. 

Turkey’s Syrian Gambit Shahab Jafry  says Erdogan would never proceed to an overt intervention in Syria, a move that would threaten Turkey’s political and economic stability.

Turkey and the Issue of Syrian Kurds: Possible Consequences of a Miscalculation Pir-Mohammad Mollazehi writes that “if Turkey’s support for the enemies of the Syrian President Bashar Assad leads to a situation in Syria’s Kurdistan similar to what is currently going on in the Iraqi Kurdistan, Ankara will be the final loser of that situation.”

Syria welcomed them – now it has spat them out Robert Fisk speaks with Palestinian refugees from Syria who are now refugees in Lebanon.

Syrian Narratives

The Syrian Food War Rami Zurayk on the food crisis in Syria, an aspect of the conflict we “seldom hear about.”

After Aleppo: A Return to the Status Quo Nicolas Nassif says the battle for Aleppo is almost over “as far as the Assad regime is concerned.”

The Winners and Losers of Syria's Civil War  Aaron David Miller’s predictions in a post-Assad Syria, specifically the faith of the Assad clan, minorities, Hezbollah and Syria’s allies.

A peaceful post-Assad order is probable Rami Khouri optimistically claims  that “the Syrian people are too intelligent, sophisticated and cosmopolitan to allow themselves to sink into a dark pit of sectarian warfare.”

Assad’s Self-Fulfilling Prophecy Aaron Y. Zelin says foreign fighters have started to work alongside Syrian opposition fighters “even if they consider them extreme and do not believe in their end goals.”

The Muslim Brotherhood wants a future for all Syrians Ali al Bayanouni trying in vain to convince Western audiences that the revolution against “rapists and child killers” is unified.

An Interview With Nawaf Al-Bashir, Leader of the Baqqara Tribe Which is One of the Largest Arab Tribes of Syria and Leader of the Liberation and Building Block  On the role of various tribes in the uprising, the SNC, and the other opposition groups.

Al-Qaeda flags fly over rebel-held Syria John Rosenthal reviews a piece by David Etter on Syrian rebels’ extrajudicial system, arguing that the coverage reveals instances of “ war crimes and probably too crimes against humanity.”

Syria and the end of populism Ahmed E Souaiaia says “it is also true that Assad's failure to share power deprived him of support that could have helped him withstand foreign meddling.”

Syria's civil war and the geopolitics overtaking it

Can Iran help end the Syrian crisis? Al Jazeera’s program on Iran’s role at halting the Syrian crisis.

Imperialism and  the Left

Tales of an Empire Gone Mad William Blum highlights the US’ incongruous foreign policy in Syria, arguing that “there is no moral factor built into the DNA of US foreign policy.”

Inside Syria

On Damascus Streets, Front Lines Multiply Nour Malas on the internal divisions in the Syrian capital.

A freedom-fighting pharmacist showed me the truth about Syria's conflict Luke Harding’s reporting in Syria complicates the sectarian/socio economic divides used by the media when narrating the Syria story.

The Syrian Rebels' Libyan Weapon Mary Fitzgerald meets with Irish-Libyan members of Islamist group Liwa al-Ummah in Idlib to understand their motives for taking part to the Syrian crisis.

Media Coverage of Syrian Violence Partial and Untrue, Says Nun

Planning intensifies for Syria after Assad Victor Kotsev on the opposition and the government’s latest political/territorial gains and losses.

Art and Social Media

Ridiculously photogenic Syrian soldier': A weapon of mass seduction

Syrian Refugee Photo Essay  Rochelle Davis and Michelle Woodward  on the situation of refugees in Jordan, Turkey, Iraq and Lebanon

In pictures: One week in Aleppo

Policy and Reports

Syria: Prospects for Intervention Chatham experts say “the choice is no longer one of intervention versus non-intervention, but rather between maintaining or increasing existing levels of external intervention and allowing the conflict to drift.”

Report No: 115 Arguments on Safe Havens in Syria: Risks, Opportunities and Scenarios for Turkey

Syrian Inmate Describes Fatal Assault on Prisoners Human Rights Watch on an incident in a prison in Homs.

Arabic:

نجاد.. الضيف الغريب في مكة
Abd Al-Bari Atwan writes about the possible outcomes that might come out of the strange rush of meetings and conferences that the Saudi King has planned over the time span of three days in order to look over the Syrian case and the Israeli will destroy the Iranian nuclear facilities.  

من ميشال سماحة الى آخره... 
Elias Khoury writes about Michel Samaha’s arrest and the leaked information regarding his involvements with Al-Asad.

الشعب السوري بين حنظلة وجلجلة
Shelly Shmail writes about peaceful protest and the lessons learned from the history of militarized revolutions in Syria.                                                                                                               

الإسلاميون و«الثورة السورية»: بين التطرف والتقيّة المدنية
Tarek Al-Abed writes about Islamists and their affect on the revolution and the fear of fundamentalism after the militarization of the uprisings.                      

نصيحتنا للابراهيمي: لا تقع في المصيدة 
Abed Al-Bari Atwan advises the newly appointed Arab-International convoy Al-Akhdar Al-Ibrahimi to not accept the dangerous mission in order to avoid the same trap of which Kofi Annan fell victim.                  
تحديات الإغاثة: دور للمهجر والتخطيط يبقى أساسياً
Hevedar Mulla writes about the rescue agencies that have formed as a consequence of the escalating violence in Syria and the challenges they face while they commit to taking care of the families of martyrs, detainees, refugees and internally displaced people.                                                                                     

سوريا وسيناريوهات في ظل الأسد
Nahed Hatr writes about the future of Syria and the likely scenarios concerning the political involvements of its neighboring countries.                                                                                                            

ربيع الأكراد بين الصَهر القومي والاندماج المجتمعي
Alaa Allami writes about the ramifications of the events that are unfolding the region in general and Syria in particular on the Kurdish matter. 

خلال الأشهر الماضية، شهد الرأي العام اللبناني نشوء ظاهرة جديدة مفادها قيام مجموعات بحرق دواليب وقطع طرق وأحياناً التسبب باشكالات أمنية بالغة الخطورة للضغط على القضاء لاتخاذ قرار معين. وقد تجلت هذه الظاهرة بشكل خاص مع توقيف الشاب شادي المولوي بتهمة انتمائه إلى تنظيم إرهابي مسلح. فقد أعقب ذلك اعتصام في ساحة النور مع قطع طرقات في أماكن متفرقة، فضلاً عن اشتعال المنطقة الفاصلة بين باب التبانة، جبل محسن (يراجع الإعلام في الفترة الفاصلة بين توقيفه في 12-5 والإفراج عنه في 23-5). وتبعاً لنجاح هذا الأسلوب، سارع بعض المطالبين بالافراج عن موقوفي فتح الاسلام والذين قاربت مدة احتجاز عدد منهم خمس سنوات من دون محاكمة بل من دون صدور قرار إتهامي إلى اعتماده. وكانت هذه القضية قد شهدت منذ ما قبل احتجاز المولوي اعتصامات متقطعة مع نصب خيم في ساحة النور في طرابلس، فاستفاد المحتجون على احتجازه من وجودها لمضاعفة زخم مطالبهم لتعود فتستفيد بدورها من هذا الزخم. أما التجلي الثالث لهذه الظاهرة، فقد حصل على إثر مقتل شيخيين في الكويخات في عكار في 20-5 على أيدي عناصر من الجيش اللبناني. وقد أعقبها قلاقل واحتجاجات عدة ذهب بعضها إلى حد التهديد بانشاء جيش لبنان الحر (رويترز، لبنانيو عكار يطالبون بتشكيل جيش لبنان الحر، الشرق، 21-5-2012). وفيما أدى توقيف عدد من العسكر إلى تهدئة الأجواء، فإن إخلاء سبيلهم فيما بعد أدى الى إعادة إشعال الاحتجاجات. وتبعاً لذلك، أعاد القضاء توقيف ثلاثة ضباط تبعاً لـ"توسعه في التحقيق"، فهدأت الأوضاع في عكار مجدداً، لتشتعل بالمقابل في محلة صربا حيث اعتمد ذوو الموقوفين ومناصروهم أسلوب قطع الطرقات نفسه دفاعاً عن الجيش واحتجاجاً على رزوح القضاء تحت وطأة هذه الظاهرة. وقد نقل عن أحد المعتصمين آنذاك: "إذا كان القضاء لا يفهم إلا بقطع الطرق فنحن أيضاً نقطع الطرق" (نهار نت، 16-7). 

وبالطبع، الميزة الأولى لهذه التحركات المتصلة زمنياً وإلى حد ما سببياً بعضها ببعض، هو اعتمادها العصبية كمحرك أساسي: وهذا ما تجلى ليس فقط في انتماءات المشاركين فيها، بل ايضاً في كيفية صياغة الحق الذي غالباً ما خرج عن طابعه الفردي ليأخذ طابعاً جماعياً (رفع الظلامة عن أهل السنة، كمثال: دعوة عمر بكري إلى الاعتصام دعما للموقوفين الإسلاميين في رومية في 6-5-2012: "يا أهل السنة في لبنان، تحرروا من قيودكم وانتفضوا ضد الظلم والفساد وفكوا قيود أسراكم وناصروا بعضكم بعضا ًواستجيبوا لنداء أهالي المعتقلين في سجن رومية). وهكذا، بدا من الطبيعي جمع قضايا مختلفة ومتباينة في بوتقة واحدة: فأي ظلم يطول المجموعة في مكان ما يصلح لتبرير مطالب في أماكن أخرى، بمعزل عن أحقيتها، أو كأنما الظلم في مكان يكفي لإدعاء الظلم في كل مكان. وهكذا، تصبح المطالبة بإخلاء سبيل مئات الموقوفين منذ خمس سنوات على خلفية طول أمد التوقيف الاحتياطي مرادفاً للمطالبة باخلاء سبيل موقوف منذ أقل من 24 ساعة. كما أن بعض المحتجين وصلوا إلى حد المطالبة بالعفو العام عن جميع الإسلاميين المعتقلين (اللواء 21 حزيران 2012) في منحى تصاعدي يعكس ارتفاع منسوب العصبية والغضب لدى هذه الجماعات ويغرقها في ذاتيتها بمنأى عن أي اعتبار حقوقي أو عن أي سعي الى صوغ مطالبها على نحو ينسجم مع مقتضيات الصالح العام. هذا عدا عما أسفرت عنه هذه التحركات من ردود أفعال لدى الطوائف الأخرى بنتيجة مرآة العصبية: وهذا ما تجلى مثلاً من خلال تجمع صربا احتجاجاً على إعادة توقيف ضباط في قضية مقتل الشيخين، بحيث لم يجد أحد أبرز نواب تكتل التغيير والاصلاح وأكثرهم جدية المحامي إبراهيم كنعان حرجاً في التعليق عليه بعبارة من نوع: «هل لخالد ضاهر وغيره الحق في قطع الطرقات فيما لا يحق لغيرهم التعبير عن رأيه؟» (الأخبار، 17-7-2012). كما انعكس في الاحتجاجات على توقيف المعتدي على تلفزيون "الجديد" (الصحف في 26-6) وأيضا في موضوع آخر لا يعنينا مباشرة من خلال اعتماد ذوي الحجاج المخطوفين في سورية الأسلوب نفسه للمطالبة بالافراج عنهم.  

وتبعاً لشيوع هذا الأسلوب، بدا القضاء في مواجهة مباشرة مع العصبية، وكل ذلك في ظروف محلية واقليمية ترجح تفاقمها. فكيف تصرفت المراجع الحكومية ازاء ذلك؟ هل رضخت لإملاءات العصبية كما هي العادة في القضايا السياسية أم أنها حفظت للقضاء خصوصيته على اعتبار أن استقلاليته تجعله المكان المناسب لعقلنة هذه العصبية وصهرها ضمن منظومة قانونية منسجمة مع ذاتها؟ وما نلحظه في هذا المجال هو أن هذه المراجع لم تتبن وحسب الخيار الأول، بل أنها استخدمت العصبية لتبيان أن اخضاع القضاء لحاجات السياسة وتالياً لحاجاتها أمر طبيعي، وتبعاً لذلك لتحويل القضاء الى أداة اضافية لتكريس هيمنة العصبية ومعها النظام السائد. وهذا ما نقرؤه من خلال توجهات ثلاثة: 

الأول، أن الحكومة تعاملت مع المطالب من منطلق براغماتي بحت على اعتبار أنها "مطالب عصبية" تستدعي حلولاً عملية، بمعزل عن مدى أحقيتها. وهكذا، وفيما زاد منسوب اهتمامها بهذه المطالب وفقاً لقوتها ومدى تأثيرها في السلم الأهلي بمعزل عن مدى مشروعيتها، فانها بالمقابل بقيت صماء ازاء أبعادها الحقوقية، مهما كانت أهميتها الاجتماعية. وهذا ما نستشفه بشكل خاص من المقارنة بين تعامل الحكومة مع قضية المولوي الذي احتجز لأيام معدودة –وهو أمر بالإمكان تبريره بحاجات التحقيق-  وتعاملها مع موقوفي فتح الاسلام المحتجزين منذ سنوات ومن دون محاكمة او اتهام، بما يشكل من حيث المبدأ انتهاكا سافراً لحريتهم ولقرينة البراءة. 

والواقع أن اعتماد موقف مماثل قد أضاع على الحكومة مجدداً إمكانية نقل المسائل المطروحة من المقاربة العصبية الى المقاربة الحقوقية وأضاع تالياً عليها إمكانية تقديم حلول من شأنها عقلنة الهواجس العصبية من خلال إدخال تحسينات في منظومة الحقوق ككل وتبعاً لذلك تخفيف امكانية اشتعال أزمات مستقبلية مماثلة. فأن يتقاعس القضاء عن بت ملفات مئات من الموقوفين على النحو الذي تقدم، أمر من شأنه أن يقوض بداهة ثقة ذويهم بالقضاء وأن يقودهم الى الانتفاض ضده. وما يزيد هذا الأمر فداحة هو أن أزمة موقوفي فتح الاسلام شكلت في هذا المجال الإنذار الثالث الذي يبقى مجردا عن أي بعد اصلاحي: وبالفعل، فقد تمثل الانذار الأول في القرار الصادر عن المحكمة الخاصة بمحاكمة قتلة الحريري والذي عد توقيف الضباط الأربعة لما يقارب أربع سنوات تعسفياً. فإذا سارع وزير العدل عند سماعه اقتراح قانون تعديل المادة 108 في اتجاه وضع حد أقصى للتوقيف الاحتياطي في جميع الجرائم من دون استثناء منعاً للتعسف مستقبلا، انتهى المجلس النيابي إلى تعديل المادة في اتجاه معاكس تماماً أي الى زيادة الاستثناءات في هذا المجال (زيادة جنايات الارهاب) وذلك على خلفية أحداث نهر البارد (نزار صاغية، بيداغوجيا محكمة الحريري: تعديل المادة 108 نموجا، الأخبار، 13 تموز 2010). وهذا ما فتح الباب مباشرة أمام الأزمة الحالية المتمثلة في احتجاز إسلاميي فتح الاسلام. أما الانذار الثاني، فقد تمثل في انتفاضة السجناء الحاصلة في آذار 2011 والتي توافق في إثرها وزيرا العدل والداخلية على تعديل المادة 108 في اتجاه يعاكس التعديل الحاصل قبل أشهر من دون يسفر توافقهما عن أي نتيجة. 

أما الموقف الثاني الذي انتهجته المراجع الحكومية، فقد تمثل في التدخل عنوة في أعمال القضاء مع تهميش مبدأ استقلاليته إلى حد كبير. وبالفعل، لم تكتف هذه المراجع بالتسامح إزاء المخالفات التي ارتكبتها هذه التحركات (وكلها تتعرض للقضاء وبعضها يشكل اخلالا جسيماً بالأمن)، انما لم تجد حرجاً في التذرع بها للتدخل جهاراً ومن دون أي مواربة أو ستر في أعمال القضاء وبأسلوب يقارب التباهي والتفاخر؛ وقد كانت تدخلاتها تتم سابقا ًفي الكواليس من باب الحياء. وقد بدا منطقها وفق الآتي: إن أي انتفاضة من منطلق عصبي تؤدي إلى تغليب السياسي على القضائي ومعه الى تغليب المصلحة العليا على استقلالية القضاء، بحيث يكون القضاء مستقلاً فقط في القضايا التي لا تطرح اشكالات عصبية ويسوغ استتباعه واستباحته علناً في المسائل الأخرى. 

ولعل التدخل الأكثر فجاجة في هذا الصدد، المساعي الوزارية لفرض إجراءات أو قرارات معينة، من خلال تعليمات بالكاد تخفي طابعها الآمر. وفي هذا الإطار، نقرأ تصريح وزير الداخلية في أعقاب زيارته إلى طرابلس حيث صرح في إثر مفاوضات لمدة سبع ساعات بـ"أنه من الطبيعي أن تؤخذ إفادة الموقوف شادي المولوي مرة أخرى بحضور محاميه، بعدما أخذت منه في المرة الأولى بغياب المحامي" (السفير 17 أيار)، وبالطبع المقصود هو إعادة استجوابه تمهيداً للافراج عنه. وبالطبع كان تدخل ميقاتي في هذه القضية حاسماً من خلال تصريحات عدة تنبأ فيها بالإفراج قريباً عن عدد من الاسلاميين، وقد تجلى مظهر هذا التدخل بوضوح كلي من خلال استقبال المولوي في بيته في طرابلس لتقبل "تشكراته" في يوم الإفراج عنه (صحف 25-7). وقد بلغ هذا التدخل أوجه خلال مجلس الوزراء في 9-7-2012: وفيما ورد على الموقع الالكتروني للمجلس أنه تقرر الطلب إلى النائب العام التمييزي بمطالبة قاضي التحقيق العسكري بالتوسع في التحقيق في قضية مقتل الشيخين في عكار وبالاشراف عليها وبافادة مجلس الوزراء بشأنها، فإن وسائل الاعلام نقلت أن مجلس الوزراء قد قرر التوسع في التحقيق بهدف تهدئة المحتجين (مثالا على ذلك، النهار 10-7، مجلس الوزراء: التوسع في التحقيقات بمقتل الشيخين) وهو أمر لم ينفه وزير العدل إلا بعد اعادة احتجاز الضباط الثلاثة الذين كان تم الافراج عنهم سابقاً، داعياً الجميع الى مراجعة حرفية القرار الذي يظهر أن الحكومة "طلبت" من دون أن "تقرر" فالقاضي وحده الذي يقرر. ويلحظ أن وزير العدل لم يفوت فرصة اتهام الاعلام والمعلقين بجهل القانون على خلفية قولهم بأن مجلس الوزراء قرر التوسع في التحقيق! والتدخلات حصلت أيضا وفق تصريحات عدة في قضية الموقوفين بتهمة الانتماء إلى فتح الاسلام صادرة عن رئيس الوزراء باعلان قرب الافراج عن عدد منهم، أو أيضا عن وزير العدل الذي حدد موعد إصدار القرار الاتهامي (خلال أسبوعين)، "وعندها لا يمكن لأحد أن يتعاطى بهذه القضية إلا المجلس العدلي' (قرطباوي، نشرة الأخبار، LBC، 18-6-2012). 

أما الموقف الثالث للمراجع الحكومية فقد تمثل في الإسراف في مجاملة الغرائز العصبية ودغدغتها تحقيقاً لمآرب تتجاوز تهدئة الخواطر إلى اكتساب المودة أو استجدائها، وكل ذلك على حساب القضاء. وفي هذا الاطار، يسجل مثلا نقل المولوي فور الافراج عنه في سيارة وزير المال محمد الصفدي من بيروت إلى طرابلس واستقباله في مكتبه، ومن ثم استقبال المولوي من قبل رئيس مجلس الوزراء في منزله في طرابلس لتقبل تشكراته. كما يسجل مبادرة رئيس الوزراء الى تسديد قيمة الكفالات لشادي المولوي ولعدد من الموقوفين الاسلاميين –وهي أصلا كفالات رمزية قدرها خمسمائة ألف ليرة لبنانية- مما عده محللون عدة عملاً انتخابياً بحتاً (جزيرة نت، 24-6). 

وفي الاتجاه نفسه، نقرأ مواقف أعضاء في تكتل التغيير والاصلاح (أحد الشركاء الأساسيين في الحكومة) في مجاملة تحرك صربا عملاً بمبدأ المساواة في العصبية. وهكذا ذهب النائب نعمة الله أبي نصر إلى حد التأكيد بأن "الطريق لن تفتح قبل إعادة النظر بالقرار (المقصود قرار توقيف الضباط الثلاثة) وأن يرفع السياسيون يدهم عن القضاء". وهو بذلك استباح الضغط على القضاء بطريقة غير مشروعة للرجوع عن قراره الذي كان قد اتخذه وفقاً له تحت ضغط أطراف آخرين، وبكلمة أخرى استباح التدخل في القضاء بحجة إرادته بوقف تدخل الآخرين. وفي السياق نفسه، نسجل تصريح النائب كنعان المشار اليه أعلاه. 

واللافت أن القضاء بدا في كل ذلك طيعا: وهكذا، قرر قاضي التحقيق العسكري نبيل وهبة إخلاء سبيل المولوي المشتبه به بالانتماء الى تنظيم إرهابي مسلح بعد اعادة استجوابه نزولاً عند دعوة وزير الداخلية وبموافقة مفوض الحكومة لدى المحكمة العسكرية صقر صقر، كما قرر قاضي التحقيق العسكري أبو غيدا إعادة توقيف عنصرين في الجيش على خلفية مقتل الشيخين تبعاً للتوسع في التحقيق بدعوة من مجلس الوزراء. وفي هاتين القضيتين، أوحى القضاء بأنه بات "غب الطلب" حسب تعبير البعض (..)، وأنه قابل لاتخاذ قرار في وجهة أو في أخرى تحت ضغط الشارع او الشوارع، كل ذلك من دون أي حساب. وقد بلغت فداحة الأمر أقصاها في قضية الاسلاميين المحتجزين على خلفية الانتماء إلى فتح الاسلام: ففي 18-6، أصدر قاضي التحقيق غسان عويدات قراراً بإخلاء سبيل 14 شخصاً مما أسهم في فض اعتصام جزئي. كما سارع سعيد ميرزا الى إبداء مطالعته في 2-6 وسارع قاضي التحقيق عويدات إلى إصدار قراره الاتهامي في 19-7 تحت ضغط الشارع ومع مراعاة المواعيد التي تعاقب على إعلانها رئيس مجلس الوزراء ووزير العدل والمشار اليها أعلاه. واللافت أن القرار المذكور آل إلى منع المحاكمة عن 103 أشخاص. وتبعاً لذلك، بدا القضاء في حال من حالين: إما أنه وافق على منع المحاكمة عن عشرات الأشخاص عن غير قناعة تحت ضغط الشارع (وهذه مصيبة) أو أنه أبقاهم بفعل تقاعسه قيد الاحتجاز لسنوات من دون أن يثبت بحقهم شيء (وهذه مصيبة أكبر). وفي الحالتين، من المفجع أن تمر الأزمة من دون مساءلة وتفكير، ولا سيما حين نعرف أن ما حصل مع هؤلاء الموقوفين يحتمل حصوله يومياً مع عشرات أشخاص يحتجزون لسبب أو لآخر عن غير حق تحت جنح الصمت، ومن دون أن تتطوع أي عصبية للدفاع عنهم. 

وكخلاصة، جاز القول بأنه لئن شكلت هذه الظاهرة وجهاً جديداً لتوغل العصبية في الحياة المدنية، فإن السلطات الحاكمة سارعت الى الاستفادة منها من خلال دفش مبدأ فصل السلطات في اتجاه تعزيز صلاحياتها بالنسبة الى السلطة القضائية على أساس أن أي عصبية تستوجب رداً سياسياً بمنأى عن لغة الحق والقانون بل أيضا إلى استمالتها من خلال الإسراف في مجاملتها. وهكذا، يصبح طبيعياً بالنسبة لهذه السلطات أن تشهد تكرار الأزمة (الاحتجاز التعسفي وتجاوز الأصول في التوقيف) نفسها للسبب نفسه وأحياناً بفعل الأشخاص أنفسهم وأن تختار عن وعي كامل البقاء بكماء صماء عمياء إزاء أي اصلاح بانتظار أزمة أكثر اشتداداً. كما لا بأس تبعاً لذلك، وللسبب نفسه، من إبقاء القضاة المقربين منها في مواقعهم الحساسة، فهي بذلك تحقق مكسبين: ولاءهم لها وفي الوقت نفسه انهيار مرجعية القضاء على خلفية أفعالهم، مما يعزز مرجعيتها وتالياً مبررات تدخلها في أعماله. في ظل واقع كهذا، ربما أصبح ضرورياً أن يخرج القضاة عن صمتهم من خلال تحرك جامع، فوحده تمسكهم باستقلاليتهم يقنع الرأي العام باحتمال مخالف.

[ نشر هذا المقال للمرة الاولى على "المفكرة القانونية" وجدلية تعيد نشره بالاتفاق مع المجلة.]

”نفذت التذاكر“ كتب على شباك بيع التذاكر في سينما ”فيلم فورم“ في نيويورك لأحد العروض الافتتاحية للفيلم الوثائقي الفلسطيني ”خمس كاميرات مكسورة“ بحضور المخرجين عماد برناط وجاي دفيدي. وحتى هؤلاء الذين اشتروا تذاكر مسبقة للعرض، وقفوا بالصف ليتمكنوا من الدخول قبل غيرهم ويختاروا المقاعد الأفضل، فالتذاكر غير مرقمة في القاعة التي تتسع لمئتي مقعد تقريباً.

بدأ عماد برناط إبن مدينة بلعين التصوير عام 2005، ولم يكن يفكر آنذاك أن التصوير العائلي الذي بدأه في البيت سرعان ما سيتحول ليصبح توثيقاً لكل ما يحدث في بلعين، تلك البلدة الصغيرة في الأراضي الفلسطينية المحتلة عام 1967، والتي إشتهرت بمقاومتها السلمية لبناء السلطات الإسرائيلية  لجدار الفصل والمستوطنات على أراضيها، والتي أصبحت استعارة لما يحدث في فلسطين عامة. 

شهد عام 2005 ولادة جبريل، الإبن الأصغر لعماد برناط، والذي يدور حوله جزء من أحداث الفيلم الذي صور على مدار أكثر من خمس سنوات. وعماد الذي كان يعمل اساساً كمزارع وجد في التصوير ضالته بعدما إلتهم تخطيط وبناء الجدار أراضيه. 

” كنت هاوياً في البداية، وبدأت أصور كل ما هو حولي. أصور عائلتي وأولادي وكل مرة يدخل فيها الجيش إلى البلدة. أصبحت مصور القرية وبدأت اعتاش من التصوير وبيع الصور لمحطات تلفزة مختلفة. وأصبحت هذه الكاميرا جزء مني.“ يقول عماد الذي تجاوز الأربعين بعام واحد بنبرة هادئة. هذا الجزء، أي الكاميرا، الذي كسر وضرب برصاص الجيش الإسرائيلي، أثمر في نهاية المطاف ”خمس كاميرات مكسورة“. ويشير العنوان إلى الكسر المتكرر لكاميرات المصور والذي يصبح  الخيط السردي الذي يربط هو أجزاء الفيلم المختلفة. 

[عماد برناط في مشهد من فيلمه الوثائقي "خمس كاميرات مكسورة"]

التصوير أولاً

”عام 2009 قررت أن أقوم بإخراج فيلم من حوالي 700 ساعة تصوير كانت بحوزتي وأغلبها من تصويري وتوثق ما يدور في بلعين وفيها أيضاً الكثير من لقطات لعائلتي. اتصلت بجاي دفيدي الذي تعرفت عليه من زياراته للقرية لكي نقوم بإخراج الفيلم سوياً.“ يقول عماد حول بداية فكرته لعمل الفيلم. كان قد قرر في البداية إخراج فيلم عن باسم أبو رحمة، وهو صديقه الذي قتل أمام عدسات الكاميرات، ويدور جزء من أحداث الفيلم حوله وحول أديب أبو رحمة الذي إعتقل واصيب أكثر من مرة. توجه عماد للمخرج الإسرائيلي جاي دفيدي الذي تعرف عليه عام 2005 حيث كان من نشطاء السلام الذين يدعمون النضال السلمي للقرية، كما عاش فيها لأشهر ثلاث لإنجاز فيلم خاص به حول المياه.

أما عن السؤال، الذي طرحه أحد الحاضرين من الجمهور النيويوركي في مانهاتن، حول ما إذا كان هذا الفيلم والإخراج المشترك يجسدان ”مشروع سلام“ يقول جاي دفيدي” لم نعمل معاً لأننا نريد أن نبني ”مشروع سلام“. بل لأننا مقتنعان بهذه القضية والفكرة. في البداية ترددتُ في الانضمام للمشروع ولكن بعدما وافق عماد أن يكون الفيلم عنه هو وعن حياته، وبعدما شاهدت المادة اقتنعت بأنه لدينا مادة قوية وشخصية جداً لعماد.“

يصور الفيلم الإحتجاجات السلمية التي تشهدها بلعين ضد الجدار وكذلك المداهمات الليلية واعتقالات الأطفال والصراع مع المستوطنين والحياة اليومية في ظل الإحتلال بعيداً جزئياً عن عدسات التلفزة التي كثيراً ما تغادر بإنتهاء المسيرات السلمية التي تقام عادة أيام الجمعة. كما يتضمن الفيلم الكثير من اللحظات الهشة للحياة اليومية ومخاوف الأب، عماد برناط، وهو الراوي في الفيلم، الذي يرى إبنه جبريل يكبر، وتكبر معه المستوطنات، ويعلو حوله الجدار.

ينجح الفيلم بشد المشاهد، حتى ذلك المتابع والعارف بالكثير من حيثيات الصراع. ويتنقل بين سرد ما يحدث في بيته ومع أطفاله ومراقبة الإبن جبريل وهو يكبر ويطرح الكثير من الأسئلة. ولا يخلو الفيلم من الكثير من اللقطات الساخرة والتي تبدو سريالية لو أنها لم تكن واقعية ومعاشة. كأن يأتي الجيش في إحدى الليالي إلى بيت عماد برناط ويطلب منه أن يتوقف عن التصوير وعندما يرد عماد بأن هذا بيته وأنه صحفي ومن حقه أن يصور داخل بيته، يقول له الجندي إن هذا البيت منطقة عسكرية مغلقة، لكن هذا المشهد السريالي ليس إلا الواقع اليومي.

 لا يتضمن الفيلم الكثير من اللقطات الفنية التي نراها اليوم في عدد لا بأس به من الأفلام الوثائقية، لأن عماد بدأ التصوير كهاوي وللضرورة. ويبقى الفيلم فيلماً قوياً ذو شحنة عاطفية تظهر الإحتلال وهو ينشب أنيابه في أجساد الفلسطينيين وفي أرضهم.

[الطفل جبريل برناط، ينظر إلى مستوطنات في الاراضي المحتلة،  في مشهد من فيلم "خمس كاميرات مكسورة"]

جوائز وإقبال على العرض في نيويورك

 لقي العرض في نيويورك إقبالاً، حيث خصصت له سينما ”فيلم فورم“ ستة عروض يومية وعلى مدار أكثر من عشرة أيام. أما الأيام الخمسة الأولى فشهدت عروضاً تخللها حضور المخرجين ونقاشات حول الفيلم مع  الجمهور الأمريكي. وكانت بعض الصحف الأمريكية الصادرة في نيويورك كـ ”نيويورك تايمز“ ومجلة ”تايم اوت نيويورك“ قد أشادت بالفلم ووصفته الأخيرة بأنه فيلم ”يفتح العيون ...ويتناول الكثير من الأمور والتفاصيل التي لم نسمعها عنها من قبل...“. 

هذا وكان الفيلم قد شارك في مهرجانات عديدة في أوربا والولايات المتحدة وحصد عدة جوائز من ضمنها جائزة مهرجان "ساندانس للسينما المستقلة" الذي يقام في ولاية يوتا، غربي الولايات المتحدة في يناير/كانون الثاني الماضي. إضافة إلى فوزه بجائزة الجمهور وجائزة التحكيم الخاصة في  "مهرجان أمستردام العالمي للأفلام الوثائقية" في هولندا في نوفمبر/تشرين الثاني الماضي.

[نشر هذا المقال للمرة الاولى على موقع "قنطرة" وتعيد جدلية نشره بالاتفاق مع الكاتبة.]

[مشاهد من الفيلم الوثائقي الفلسطيني "خمس كاميرات مكسورة"]

A thick stack of black and white photographs flutters to the floor. A man stands over the jumbled pile and, looking past bent corners and nibbled edges, sees dozens of faces staring up at him. These faces are vaguely familiar—an old neighbor, a distant cousin, an aunt who used to spend summers with him. Some photos land face down and, from his height, the man can just make out the names and dates scribbled in purple ink across the backs.

He kneels down and, with the tips of his fingers, quickly rakes the photographs into a haphazard mound. He leans over it to inspect the faces more closely and immediately a voice begins whispering in his ear. Memories begin to flood the room. But these memories are not his own; they belong to the men and women in the photos. This voice anchors them to a story, breathes life into their stoic faces and makes their one-dimensional images come alive. But it also transfers the crushing weight of their memories onto this man’s shoulders.  

In these memories lie the aching pain and unrelenting torment of deracination and exile. Although this suffering is not his own, he treats it as if it were an indelible part of his personal experience, silently assuming the burden of memory and selflessly disregarding its psychological toll.

Krikor Beledian: Agent of the Armenian Diaspora

This scene makes up the final pages of Krikor Beledian’s novel Seuils [Thresholds]. Published in Western Armenian in 1997 and translated into French by Sonia Bekmezian in 2011, Seuils is the first in a series of semi-autobiographical narratives exploring facets of the author’s childhood in Beirut and the first of his novels to be translated into any language. Beledian, born in 1945, is one of a handful of writers who currently publishes creative works in Western Armenian—the branch of the language once used by Armenians in the Ottoman Empire and now used, to varying degrees, by their descendants scattered throughout the Middle East, Europe, and the Americas.

In the early years of these diasporan communities, Western Armenian continued to serve as the language of literature and culture, but with each passing generation the number of people with the linguistic dexterity needed to write in the language has been dwindling. In 2010, UNESCO classified Western Armenian as “definitely endangered,” the second of five stages on the language extinction scale. A language reaches this stage when few children learn it as their first language. Beledian, however, writes as if blissfully unaware of this serious situation.

A prolific writer of poetry and prose since the 1970s, Krikor Beledian has become one of the few figures in contemporary Western Armenian literature—a scene that was once brimming with gifted writers who, like Beledian, took risks and experimented with the language, injecting it with new life after its near destruction. An academic as well as a novelist and poet, Beledian makes his home in France and teaches Armenian literature at the Institut national des langues et civilisations orientales (Inalco) in Paris. He has published novels, critical essays on Armenian literature, and collections of poetry, as well scholarly volumes on Armenian history and literature.  

Beledian silently proclaims his exceptionality as a writer not only in the choice of Western Armenian as his sole language of artistic expression, but in the way he treats well-worn tropes in what he calls Armenian diaspora literature—writing by diasporan Armenians about diasporan Armenian experiences in languages other than Western Armenian. He squarely contrasts Armenian diaspora literature with Armenian diasporan literature—writing by diasporan Armenians about diasporan Armenian experiences in Western Armenian.

[Krikor Beledian. Image via the author.]

In Armenian diaspora literature, there is a tendency to dwell on the past and look to the villages and communities in the pre-1915 Ottoman Empire for direction on how present-day Armenian culture should look and feel. There is great concern for preserving this heritage to the detriment of valorizing Armenian experiences in the diaspora as they exist today. Beledian’s novels focus on giving diasporan experiences the consideration they deserve and asserting the vitality of modern diasporan Armenian identities. He does not allow his ancestors in the Ottoman Empire or the fledging Republic of Armenia in the Caucasus to prescribe how identity in the diaspora ought to be constructed. His novels encourage Armenians to see value in their own varied experiences, form their own understanding of Armenian identity, and not to look elsewhere for validation.

The literary influences on Beledian’s writing are emblematic of the melding of cultures inherent in the diasporan Armenian experiences whose authenticity he unwaveringly defends. In the words of literature scholar Talar Chahinian:

[Beledian’s] fiction demonstrates a style that is somewhere between the nouveau roman and the post-modern novel. His novels often shun punctuation rules, sequential plot lines, and reliable narrators. But though his novels’ forms are overwhelmingly inspired by French post-structuralist thought, their linguistic acrobatics and content are strikingly representative of the post-1915 Armenian diaspora, marked by a sense of chronological interruption and geographic dispersion.

Incorporating French influences into the core of his work is not an attempt to proclaim the superiority of European literature or to disparage the Armenian literary tradition; it is used to give a voice to diasporan experiences and allow them to speak through the structure of the novels.

Catastrophe in Translation

The structural skeletons of Beledian’s novels are filled out with inventive language that seek to revitalize Western Armenian as a literary language. When we read his work in translation—even in Bekmezian’s sublimely evocative translation—this attempt naturally goes unnoticed. Needless to say, a significant dimension is lost in translation when the original language is essentially its own character in the book.

The intrinsic challenges of translating Beledian’s work notwithstanding, Bekmezian’s French translation of Seuils does achieve one particularly critical goal: it acquaints a wider public with a literature intended to be read only by the Armenian community. Since Armenian is unique in that few beyond the community learn the language or achieve sufficient proficiency to penetrate its literature, reading Western Armenian literature in translation is like listening in on someone else’s therapy sessions. It reveals the collective joys, fears, preoccupations, and obsessions of an exiled people and delves deep into their psyches.

Nothing weighs more heavily on the Western Armenian psyche than what Beledian and a small group of other Western Armenian intellectuals call the Catastrophe of 1915—more commonly referred to as the Armenian genocide. Bekmezian’s translation shows us how such a shattering event is remembered and discussed within the community. Treated with subtlety and woven into the narrative like it is woven into the fabric of Armenian family histories, the Catastrophe in Seuils is not fleshed out in all of its grisly details as it would be if the book had been intended for an audience unfamiliar with the Armenian plight. It does not belabor the misery and adversity of the Armenians and has no designs on shocking readers into recognizing that it took place.

Beledian’s treatment of the Catastrophe is devoid of the sorts of underlying political motivations often seen in Armenian diaspora literature and in the public debate on Armenian genocide recognition. It looms, but it is never explained and does not need to be. For Armenians, it is shared history, common knowledge, a vivid part of their historical memory. Instead, Beledian considers the effect of the Catastrophe on the men and women who experienced it firsthand and on their children and grandchildren who have taken on that suffering as their own. How is this burden—disguised as family memories—passed along? Why do second and third generation diasporan Armenians still feel such an attachment to their pasts? Why do they still feel like an exiled people almost one hundred years and four generations after the Catastrophe?  

Vicarious Suffering

In Seuils, Beledian probes these questions by exploring the stories and pictures of three women—his aunt Elmone, his grandmother Vergine, and his neighbor Antika—who were all driven out of their villages in southern and eastern Anatolia in 1915 and later settled in Lebanon. Their stories of pain and exile are told to an unnamed narrator by an omniscient voice that charges him with the responsibility of collecting, recording, and transmitting them.

The fragility of family history is a reoccurring theme in the novel. The narrator is empowered by the idea that, in an instant, he could burn the photographs and rip up the stories and nothing would remain of his family’s past. He is seduced by the power inherent in this role. The voice, however, implores him to keep the pictures and write down everything it tells him in order to keep the traces of the community alive. And he dutifully agrees.

But the narrator struggles with the fact that he has inherited this suffering. He rebels against what he perceives as a hindered sense of agency by filling in the gaps in his history with his own elaborate stories. In allowing the narrator to write original scenes in his family‘s past, Beledian comments on the malleability of history. He asks readers to question what they really know about their history and how they know it. History, he argues, is a constructed reality shaped by the people through whom it has been transmitted—people who pick and chose what should be remembered, what should be forgotten, and what should be embellished. Once a story reaches the present, its adulterated form may bear little resemblance to the lived experience.

This understanding of history feeds the narrator’s constructed relationships with the three women whose stories he has inherited. Not knowing any of them well, yet still feeling an obligation to record their experiences, the narrator invents a personal connection based on the pictures he holds in his hands and the painful stories whispered in his ear. Beledian uses the narrator to illustrate the illogicality of his bond: why does the narrator and, by extension, second and third generation diasporan Armenians with no direct connection to the Catastrophe, appropriate the suffering of their ancestors?

How can I talk about someone who I have not seen a single time? How can I penetrate her life and understand—beyond the legend, beyond the gossip—the thick, heavy existence of a human being whose scent I have not sniffed, whose hand has never brushed up against mine, who never pulled me into her lap, whose voice I have never heard and for whom I have absolutely no image in my mind.

These questions characterize the relationship between many diasporan Armenians today—living in places as diverse as New York, Paris, Beirut, Aleppo, Buenos Aires, London, Los Angeles—and their grandparents and great-grandparents. They are far removed from the trauma of the past, yet similar feelings of exile and alienation still persist.

Memory has taken hold of Armenians in the diaspora and affected how many understand themselves. Their past is a major source of strength and tends to solidify pride in their Armenian identities. But, as Beledian shows us, rooting identities in the past rather than in the present is problematic because there is only so much we can really know about our history. He illustrates this idea by emphasizing the narrator’s disorientation in the three women’s lives. The basic elements of their lives—composed of village songs he has never heard, dialects he has never spoken, places he has never seen, and a kind of pain he has never experienced—are foreign to him. Yet there is still a connection, still a bond that allows him to transcend all of these differences, however illogical it seems.

Breaking with the Past

Contrary to diasporan Armenians today who choose to remember their family’s past and make it a part of personal identities, those who survived the Catastrophe had no choice but to remember. They bore their pain not only psychologically, but physically. As much as diasporan Armenians feel the need to take on this suffering as their own, Beledian shows that there will always be limits to their understanding. Diasporan Armenians will never carry the traces of torment on their bodies and thus never truly understanding the extent of their pain:

How can you expect [the women] to return wearing shoes with their deformed toenails, their cracked heels, their wild feet that passed through and were burned by the sand, by the hills. You walk and walk, and it’s always the same sand, always the same caravan. There are no camels or bells, only and always this heat that burns your feet.

What diasporan Armenians feel is the suffering that took its first breath once those caravans reached their destination. It is not an inferior form; it is merely the second stage. Armenians born and raised in the diaspora will never truly be able to understand the first stage because the scope of the despair is too large to grasp. They will never know how it feels to be torn from the only life you have known and to be forced to rebuild it from nothing. They will never know the ache of hearing your children utter their first words in a language foreign to you or the unbearable longing for a place that no longer exists as you knew it.

The daily struggle to carry on faced by the first generation in exile was replaced by the second and third generations’ emotional, abstract struggle over identity and belonging. This is the second stage of suffering that diasporan Armenians experience. It is how they feel about what they have absorbed and imagined from the stories about the first stage. This second stage is merely a continuation, since it could not have come into being without the first. In other words, most diasporan Armenians would not be living in the diaspora if their ancestors had not survived the Catastrophe and endured the pain of exile. The suffering among diasporan Armenians is not simply composed of the assumed pain in the first stage. It is also composed of a lament for a life that could have been theirs.

Because of the Catastrophe, diasporan Armenians are permanently estranged from the linear history that their families had enjoyed in their ancestral villages for centuries. They will never know what their lives would have been like had that lineage continued uninterrupted. Unlike other children and grandchildren of immigrants, they cannot travel to see what life could have been like for them in their ancestral villages, because almost all traces of their ancestors have been erased in these places.

This abrupt change in direction and the shock of exile brought unexpected challenges within families: as Beledian illustrates, it led to an intensification of the divisions between Armenians who fled the Catastrophe and their children and grandchildren born in the diaspora. In Seuils, Beledian shows us how the new breed of Armenians born in exile were not necessarily valorized by the generation that fled. In the words of the narrator’s neighbor Antika:

Despite all of your efforts to convince these boys, they do not know the taste or the smell of Erzurum. It is not their air; it is not their water. Their flesh and bones are different.

It is true. Diasporan Armenians will never truly be part of that pre-1915 society that they exalt. It is not their experience, but by clinging to it and treating it as if it is, diasporan Armenians are attempting to take control over their past and create a history different from the one imposed on them. They are rejecting the idea of exile and attempting to blur differences between them and their ancestors. But, as Beledian clearly illustrates, the cultures of the diasporan Armenians and their ancestors are distinct.

It is precisely because these experiences are so different that the generation that was forced to flee wants to ensure that their stories are not forgotten, no matter the toll it may take on future generations:

She fixes her eyes on mine and waits silently for a moment. She then tries to find the lost thread, the word that has been lost since the old country. Did she reserve this role of custodian for me—the role of learning the legend by heart, of someone to pass on the same story and bring it to a close? Maybe she was convinced to pass on her memories because telling them allows her to survive? Otherwise, how can I grasp why she describes the most painful moments…without backing down and without any attempt to protect me from the violence of her life?

The feelings of estrangement and exile still alive in many second and third generation diasporan Armenian communities are linked directly to this idea because each generation is expected to bear the burden of the past. The baton cannot be dropped until it is passed onto the next generation, with all the painful memories and unbearable sorrow securely intact. This idea has been so ingrained and the responsibility has been couched in such grave terms that to drop the baton means breaking the chain that stretches all the way back to 1915.

Beyond Logic and Reason

In Seuils, Beledian asks Armenians—and now, thanks to the French translation, other readers who carry the pain of deracination—to consider the burden of the transmission of family history and the effects it can have on the extension of suffering.

He is not trying to convince readers to liberate themselves from their pasts or to abandon their family memories, but simply to be conscious of how memories have the power both to shape and paralyze.  

***

Sorting through the pile of photographs, the narrator sees one of his Aunt Elmone and her granddaughter, Dzaghganoush. He is puzzled. He was sure that Dzaghganoush had been born in France and had never met her grandmother. He picks the photograph out of the pile and takes a closer look. A faint line shows that two photographs from two different decades have been superimposed. Grandmother and granddaughter had never been on the same continent, let alone in the same room, but here they stand side by side, spurning any sense of chronology or logic, to spend eternity together. By bearing the suffering of their grandparents and great-grandparents, diasporan Armenians are looking for this kind of closeness—a connection to their past to convey their respect for those who sacrificed so much for them.

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

Algeria

Algerian president under pressure to sack generals, follow in Egypt’s footsteps  Massoud Hadna suggests that Mursi's actions have reignited desires to demilitarize the Algerian government.

Despite Calm, Algeria Keeps Its Focus on Terror in Tribal Areas Atef Qadadira describes the volatile security situation experienced in Kabylie, though he relies almost exclusively on official accounts.

Libya

Opinion: A Night to Remember in Libya Khadija Ali reflects on the historic August 8 transference ceremony.

Libya faces mental health crisis New research estimates that 40% of the "most conflict-affected populations could be suffering from PTSD," and that 200,000 citizens may also be experiencing depression.

How Sexualized Violence is Used as a Weapon of War The Women Under Siege Project dissects the rape and humiliation tactics used by the Gaddafi regime during the revolution.

Libya: The Fight For Women's Rights Goes On Mel Frykberg discusses the achievements of female candidates in the recent elections and the priorities most critical to the female electorate.

Libya: The Election of Magarief and National Reconciliation Karim Mezran highlights the subtleties missing from mainstream media analysis of GNC president Magariaf and his role in the new legislative body.

Mauritania

Mauritania: The People Want the End of Military Rule Ahmed Jadu highlights the varied calls for regime change from diverse civil society groups in Mauritania, including the Feb 25th Youth Movement and the Coordination of Democratic Opposition.

Slavery still shackles Mauritania, 31 years after its abolition Monica Mark chronicles the history and contemporary manifestations of slavery in Mauritania.

Mauritania: Using Twitter to Mock the President Ahmed Jadu explains  disapproving reactions to the president's appearance on the TV show "Encounter with the People."

Amnesty International Demands Mauritania Release Biram and Fellow Abolitionists  

Morocco

Morocco: Students Demand Education Reform Hisham Al-Miraat describes the August 6 protest organized by the Union of Moroccan Students to Change the Education System.

Compte rendu du Démocafé de Rabat : « Système éducatif au Maroc » Review of the problems  and proposed reforms discussed at the Democafe on Morocco's educational system.

There’s More: A response to James Traub’s piece on Foreign Policy Samia Errazzouki challenges the conventional and obscured narrative of Morocco's contemporary political realities, as regurgitated in a recent Foreign Policy feature.

Morocco: Mistreatment Of Single Mothers Rana Sossey Alaoui describes the self-immolation of Fedwa Laroui as a product of chronic social and administrative discrimination.

Tunisia

Les Tunisiennes manifestent pour leurs droits Monia Ghanmi interviews rights organizations involved in the protest against a recently passed constitutional amendment that ascribes women as complimentary to men.

Tunisia’s New Constitution : A Look From Within Myriam Ben Ghazi highlights the most pivotal processes of decision making in Tunisia's ongoing constitutional process.

Eyes on Tunisia Al Jazeera assembles citizen reactions to Olympic medalist Habiba Ghribi's attire in light of the contentious constitutional amendment that seems to devalue women.

Arabic

الرقاب: اضراب جوع احتجاجا على ايقافات 9 أوت
Sizi Bouzid activists launch a hunger strike to protest the arrest of demonstrators on August 9 (video).

كلام شارع: التونسي و المساواة التامة بين الرجل و المراة
Conversations with Tunisian citizens regarding the role of men and women in society (video).

Recent Jadaliyya Articles on the Maghreb

Maghreb Media Roundup (August 9)
Maghreb Monthly Edition on Jadaliyya (July 2012)
Dissent in Morocco: Not All for One
Neither Allah, Nor Master
Morocco Reforms: Criminalizing Dissent

The Wretched of the Earth, Frantz Fanon’s magnum opus, was published in 1961, a few days after his death. The book was not only influential for several generations of grassroots movements and activists in Africa, the United States, and Latin America; it was also discussed and debated extensively in intellectual circles across the globe. The reception of the book was more mitigated in the Arab world. This might be due to Fanon’s sweeping criticism of national bourgeoisie, which seized power after decolonization and became an intermediary class between Western powers and local populations. The Martiniquan intellectual was skeptical of revolutions from above, as was the case with several anti-colonialist movements in the Arab World. Interestingly, while the Arabic translation of the The Wretched of the Earth came out shortly after its publication in French, it omitted many passages because they were critical of the national bourgeoisie. Fifty years later, Fanon is almost absent in public discourses in the Middle East and is still marginal in the Maghreb. The uprisings should have been an excellent opportunity for Arab intellectuals and activists to engage with Fanon’s work on the revolution and the subaltern in the new conjuncture. However, despite the significance of his political philosophy for the current revolts, his books are either out of print or conspicuously absent from many bookstores in the Arab world.

In this interview with Nigel Gibson, one of the most prominent experts on Fanon’s work, he explains the significance of the Fanonian theoretical framework and its relevance for the Arab uprisings. Dr. Gibson has written a number of articles and books on the Martiniquan intellectual and deployed a Fanonian perspective to examine many contemporary revolts. His numerous books include Fanon: The Postcolonial Imagination (2003) and Fanonian Practices in South Africa: From Steve Biko to Abahlali baseMjondolo (2011). He teaches postcolonial theory at Emerson College. The interview was conducted in Boston in July 2012.

Yasser Munif (YM): Ongoing protests have swept the Arab world since the toppling of the Tunisian dictator. They changed the political and cultural landscape of the region. The mot d’ordre of the protesters is clear: “The people want the fall of the regime.” Western powers tried to co-opt the protests because real democracy in the Arab World can threaten their domination of the region. They want to maintain their hegemony in the oil-rich gulf. The region is also important geopolitically because of the United States’ close ties to Israel and its wars in the Middle East. The interest of the West in the region is not new. In Culture and Imperialism, Edward Said argues that while formal colonization ended in the mid-twentieth century, Arab countries became the political satellites of the West since then. He writes, “for two generations the United States has sided in the Middle East mostly with tyranny and injustice... one administration after another has propped up compliant and unpopular clients, and turned away from the efforts of small peoples to liberate themselves from military occupation.”  In a way, Said is suggesting that real independence was never achieved; the present politico-economic condition of Arab countries is a continuation of the colonial period by new means. In this context, the work of Frantz Fanon is very relevant to understanding the current Arab uprisings. Yet, as you explain in a recent essay, one should refrain from the temptation of extrapolating old concepts into new situations. Referring to Fanon’s work, you write, “The task for radicals is to avoid applying pre-formed cookie-cutter theory to new situations and jamming a new event or movement into old categories, but, instead, to begin to open up space for dialogue and reflection on action.” Do you think that Frantz Fanon’s analysis about colonialism, imperialism, and independence movements can have any relevance today for Arab protesters who are challenging despotic regimes?

Nigel Gibson (NG): I do think that Fanon has relevance, and so the question is: how do you approach Fanon? Are there categories in Fanon’s thought that can simply be applied to new situations and, if so, what new thinking would emerge? Applying Fanon’s categories to new situations is valuable to a degree, but the question I am asking is: what does Fanon offer us methodologically? In other words, how does he actually get us to rethink our concepts? I think Fanon is basically an open thinker and a radically humanist thinker. If you look at the first pages of Black Skin White Masks, where he is critical of scientific methods, to the final pages of the Wretched of the Earth, where he talks about working out new concepts, the question is how and on what basis do you work on new concepts with the goal of human freedom? For Fanon, becoming actional is connected to his idea of a new humanism, which is explicitly critical of European humanism so intimately connected with colonialism. So, it is not simply about finding new concepts from anywhere, but being both critical and self-critical and also being very open to what is happening on the ground. So, inIn other words, a critic could have said last January in 2011 in Tahrir Square that if you read Fanon, you know that the liberatory moment is going to be closed down by the military or the state, and therefore end up with a kind of ontological pessimism. We are defeated before we begin. The critic might add, Fanon tells us that all these revolutions in the end will fail, and look: they have. But, for me, that is not how one engages Fanon. If Fanon is alive he is in the revolts because the revolts themselves open up something very new. One has to be aware, or listen, or open one’s mind to what are the new beginnings.

Now, you could look at the situation and say, Fanon tells us to be very wary of the nationalist elite and all the other social forces we could talk about: religious elite, nationalist elite, military elite, regional elites, and the comprador nature of some of these elites and all the repressive ideologies that justify them. So, in other words, the question then becomes: how do you employ Fanon productively? You do not want to close down possibilities, but at the same time, you want to be wary of Fanon’s warnings. In a certain sense, it is what I would consider a dialectical approach. It is not simply good enough—and one could do it with any thinker, one could do it with Marx—to have a series of categories to say, well, this revolt will fail because it does not correspond with the categories or fulfill certain expectations in a Marx or in a Fanon, and therefore it is doomed to do this and that. Even if in the end it does this and that, we have to be open about what is new in the Arab revolts. What do they tell us? How do they come about? Why have they come about now? In what way can one see them as new beginnings, a turning of a page, and the creation of a new historical moment, rather than a repetition of a neocolonial situation that you mention in Said’s quote in the beginning? If Fanon’s thought is alive, it cannot be simply applied.

YM: As I mentioned above, Said thinks that the process of decolonization was aborted by local social forces or international policies, and that what we are experiencing in the Middle East today is a continuation of old fashioned colonialism, as in the case of Iraq, or a form of neocolonialism /imperialism, as is the case of most Arab countries. In that sense, Fanon is extremely relevant and we have to reread him. And yet, Fanon has been extremely absent in the Arab public spheres, public discussions, and the media in general. Some intellectuals have either consciously avoided him or are ignorant about his work and its implications on contemporary Arab societies. Others, for ideological reasons, denied these connections between “metropole” and “colony,” to use Fanon’s categories and the relationship between the two. Many Arabs and Western liberals have argued that the revolts are about democracy and anti-authoritarianism and we should not conflate these new categories with the older ones such as imperialism or colonialism. Hazem Saghieh, one of the influential Lebanese journalists who writes for the London-based and Gulf-funded al-Hayat newspaper, wrote in one of his articles that protesters in Tahrir Square were not holding signs about imperialism or Zionism, and these revolts are therefore about internal /local issues and regional concerns. So, how can one make an argument for the relevance of Fanon when he is so absent in public discourses?

NG: It is almost like different levels of abstractions. There is not a one-to-one correspondence; fifty years is the long time to think about a thinker’s relevance or to think of the relevance of their work to a contemporary period. However, in the same way, you could say that there were not very many banners about democracy in the way that liberal democracy or the western kind of democracy understands it and that the pundits have said the revolts were about. Therefore, the signs and slogans in Tahrir may have not been about imperialism, and they may have not reflected the kind of things that the liberal critics wanted to talk about either. But the issue then becomes not to judge things by an a priori anti-imperial discourse. Rather, the first thing is to find out what is being talked about. What are people saying? It was certainly about getting rid of Mubarak. But it was more than that, even if it was not explicit; the point is to trace through the contradictions and developments. Someone who has not read Fanon and who lived through that period, and now reads Fanon, will find out how quickly he or she identifies with his analysis of how the new rulers behave like the old rulers; it is a revolution, yes, but in the old sense of revolving and repeating what was happening before. In one sense, it is how we understand neo-colonialism, but Fanon is not only talking about the threat from imperialism, which is always there, but how the threats are manifested internally. He speaks about a great threat to the decolonial movement being the lack of liberatory ideologies. What does he mean by ideology? Certainly, there are many ideologies around. There are Islamic ideologies; there are nationalist ideologies, neoliberal ideologies, and so forth. He is talking about something else. He has a vision for something else. The subject of the Wretched of the Earth is the wretched of the earth, that majority of the people of the world, who are not only poor, but are actively denied agency and are constantly reminded that politics is above them. How do the wretched of the earth become actional, become political, and become social individuals? Fanon calls his ideology a new humanism, not only in contrast to the elite humanism of the West, but also on the axiom that the wretched of the earth, understood socially, think and thus must be a basis of a new politics. This, of course, is not achieved immediately, but it must become an explicit element of the struggle for liberation. Then there is the question of the role of the intellectual committed to social change. What can the intellectuals do in these periods? So, again we are back to Fanon’s relevance and the difficulty of talking about it in an applied way. First, it is interesting to look at the history of why Fanon is not considered relevant and the fact that postcolonial states have suppressed his thought in one way or another.   Second, the only way that we can prove the relevance of Fanon in a certain way outside of some academic circles is to ask, do people involved in social struggles engage with Fanonian concepts and find something relevant for them, even if they have never heard of Fanon because Fanon is implicitly in the struggles? In other words, the idea of a new generation; he has a phrase at the beginning of “On National Consciousness,” where he talks about how “Each generation must, out of relative obscurity, discover its mission, fulfill it, or betray it.”[1] So, a new generation makes something of him and brings that into the discussion. To me, that would be the only proof of relevance of Fanon. I can make an argument for it, but in the end that would be the test. Now the question is: how would that happen? How do you get Fanon into the public discourse, especially when a lot of the public discourse is limited, and Fanon is considered irrelevant? You face liberal pundits like Hazem Saghieh, who might say that Fanon represents a fifty-year-old politics of violence and imperialism, or other politicians, who might emphasize that Fanon is not a Muslim and is therefore irrelevant to a Muslim society. These are some of the problems with discussing Fanon.

YM: One of the central themes for Fanon is the question of violence. He writes, “The violence of the colonial regime and counter-violence of the native balance each other and respond to each other in an extraordinary reciprocal homogeneity… The settler’s work is to make even dreams of liberty impossible for the native. The native’s work is to imagine all possible methods for destroying the settler.”[2] Is it realistic to transpose such a framework to today’s Arab context? Or is the present situation in the Arab World less Manichean and more complex?

NG: It is always tempting to say that the situation is less Manichean and more sophisticated than it really is. It always seems to be more sophisticated than the way that Fanon speaks about it. Then, one is shocked by the simplicity of the situation. Certainly, especially in a period of crisis, the rulers understand it simply as one that is determined by force and violence. The contemporary Syrian situation is an obvious example. Of course, there are also sophisticated ideological ploys, but on the ground it becomes a zero sum game of force and eradication. What is essential to the regime and connects it back to colonial ideology is the idea that we are dealing with a bunch of terrorists, fanatics, barbarians, the uncivilized, and the primitive, which are all attempts to legitimize force and violence, and label any kind of counter force as automatically evil. The violence is asymmetrical, that is to say, the regime not only bombs from the air, but also kills indiscriminately, because it sees the people as the enemy, as supporters of the terrorists etc., but it is Manichean in the ways Fanon explains. Counter-violence against the colonial regime is liberatory because it is an act, and by acting, the absolute power of colonialism, internalized by the colonized, is shaken. Thus, for Fanon, it is important psychologically. But Fanon understands the costs of violence and is acutely aware of psychological trauma. Rather than glorifying violence, as some believe, he understands that counter-violence is necessary for survival. The struggle to live another day is also the psychological survival of people, which is at the same time intimately tragic.

How Manichean is the present situation? Surprisingly, Fanon’s categories, despite the fact that his descriptions in The Wretched of the Earth have been criticized as simplistic, seems at certain points in history to be born out over and over again. Yet, the essence of his philosophy is to get beyond Manicheanism and get inside these struggles.

YM: The question of violence is central for Fanon as a political activist and thinker. He engages with it extensively in the Wretched of the Earth and other writings. He obviously has a complex understanding of violence in the colonial context. Unfortunately, the question is often overlooked and oversimplified by political forces and certain intellectuals, and yet in every revolution it reemerges and becomes central. For example, in the context of the Arab uprisings, it was a central issue in Libya and Yemen and still is in Syria. First, I would like to hear your thoughts about how you conceptualize the question of violence in the work of Fanon. Do you think that violence can be decontexualized or dehistoricized as it is sometimes? Who decides whether militarization is the best strategy to topple a despot? Is the violence of the wretched always justifiable?

NG: I do not know whether it can be decontextualized or dehistoricized. To historicize and contextualize it is one way I understand Fanon’s question of violence. I think—I have been thinking about this for a long time because the question will not go away when we think about Fanon—there are three elements to it. To start with, in the 1960s, Fanon was seen as an angry guy, a man of violence. This was the view taken by some Black Panthers and some liberal theorists. In reality he was not. Certainly, he was very intense, but he hated violence. Then, from a psychiatric point of view, it is interesting to read chapter one of the Wretched of the Earth (the chapter on violence, with the final chapter on colonial wars and mental disorders), and see his understanding when he writes about the effects of violence on an individual case level. As a practicing psychiatrist, he treats people who have been involved in setting bombs, and he treats children and others who have been tortured or seen murder and death. It is a human tragedy that scars the survivors. He is essentially talking about what we now call traumatic stress. There is no simple answer. The violence is tragic and that weighs on him, but the answer is not non-violence. In contrast to the bad faith of liberal humanism, Fanon understands that the situation is one of violence. Violence is used to suppress a people in a most blatantly crude way. We can historicize and contextualize it. We can analyze the Algerian situation, its history and so forth, and question whether that is anything like the situation we face today. But, this is only one way to understand why violence becomes so important. The question is how is liberation achieved? Fanon says that violence will be there in some form. He says, even where some nations have gained independence through non-violent means, there is still an atmosphere of violence, even if it is manifested by the changing of street names. Thus, violence has many dimensions to Fanon and is manifested at different levels, and importantly for Fanon, it is internalized by the oppressed. Violence, in other words, is the first means and the last resort to pacify a people, and thus is something we need to continue to consider after the gunfire has ended.

YM: The other related question is… there are two moments in the process of decolonization that are extremely important for Fanon. It is the process of transitioning from national consciousness to a consciousness of liberation. That is coupled with the question of violence and how we deal with it. How do we transcend the violence generated by the struggle for freedom, the violence necessary to topple a regime like the one in Syria? Violence, in reality, is the everyday experience of Syrians; they are dealing with the trauma that the regime’s violence is generating. As Fanon suggests, counter-violence can be extremely traumatic. Human Rights groups have documented cases of deliberate killing and torture on behalf of the rebels in Syria and Libya. In the context of the Arab revolts: 1) Can we speak of the two phases that Fanon talks about? 2) After the toppling of Arab regimes, what kind of new humanism is possible, to use Fanon’s term?

NG: If there are two phases, then we have not seen the second one yet. Then again, it also depends on how one looks at the Arab revolts.

YM: Can you explain the difference between these two phases, and why they are important?

NG: You mention one way, but there is another way of thinking about it. Fanon talks about it in an essay in Towards the African Revolution. He talks about the second phase of liberation. In other words, a kind of first phase where you gain independence, but as you said, in that Saidian mode, it remains a kind of neocolonialism. Or, you have a change in leadership or in the government of the nation; you might even have nationalization of oil, or something like that, but things do not really change for the masses of people. In other words, life for most people continues in the same way, and the people ask, was the struggle for independence worth it? Fanon sees that. Writing from inside the liberation movements of the 1950s, independence is somewhat narrow, and it has a narrow political platform. In a certain way, that is the implicit critique of someone like Nkrumah, who talked about the goal being gaining political power. For Fanon, the goal is social liberation, so there has to be a new phase. The question then becomes, where does this new phase come from? It seems to me that we could say that it is continually stymied, so we seem to have a continuous repetition of reproduction of that first phase. Because political change does not really lead to any fundamental change for most of the people, indeed because politics (even if it calls itself democratic) is elitist and barred to most people, so it is necessary to look to new movements outside of “politics.” So, the question then becomes, what is actually going on outside of high politics at the level of the communities, the workplaces, and so on? What are the actual spaces and possibilities for social change in the nation? Because these movements are often not articulated in a political way, the answer is not immediately apparent. The problem in Syria, I think, is that when there is so much violence, there is not only very little chance to create spaces for liberation, but also all talk is quickly swallowed up by it. People are trying to keep their heads down because they are being bombarded all the time. Spaces of liberation are, in a certain way, some kind of social spaces where people can not only get together and think about something else, but also act together. If you are thinking about an elemental solidarity, you are thinking about people acting together and taking decisions together, and thereby beginning to think about what sort of society they want to create. So, there is a need for liberated spaces; that is really difficult. It has been historically difficult, but all liberation and liberation theorists try to engage with that kind of discussion in one way or another. Fanon talks about it, for example. I do not want to think about it as high philosophy; I want to think about it practically. For example, he talks about lentil production. He says, in the “Pitfalls of National Consciousness,” that during the liberation struggle, farmers producing lentils began to understand the whole process of unequal exchange and began to “ask theoretical questions,” such as the accumulation of capital; they began to organize production for people’s needs. It is about the creation of social solidarity through the practical experience of understanding that your life is not just about survival, and that work is intentional and social, and thus, opposed to forced labor. There is another example in the chapter “On Colonial Violence and Mental Disorder,” where he talks about colonialism as a living death, where everyone is desperately trying to survive. The situation for many people is so dire that there is no solidarity at all; in fact, the neighbor is seen as a threat to your own survival. But the liberation movement, and I am thinking of it also as an idea, opens up spaces even under the harshest conditions, and new solidarities can emerge. People begin to think about creating a different life, and a different society. It is happening today. Whether or not that is framed by the discourse of the Muslim Brotherhood, or the discourse of some other organization, the moment has been opened up by the freedom struggle, and the question is how do you allow that to develop without being simply closed down by new political elite, who are simply wanting to use the people to establish a new patronage? That seems to be part of the problem of where the Arab revolt is and it is not unique to the Arab world. It is a global problem. If you look at social movements in Latin America, there are spaces where alternative politics are thought about on the ground, at the grassroots level, but they are always under threat. As you mentioned in the beginning, the problem in North Africa and the Middle East is the politics of oil. It means that the spaces for truly grassroots politics, involving those masses of people excluded from high politics, are very quickly closed down. They are not really allowed any kind of autonomy to develop, and that seems to be the real problem, which gets us back to the neo-colonial relationship.

YM: We already see symptoms of that happening. The United States and Europe want to abort these ongoing revolts in Egypt, Tunisia, and other places. They are doing it through different means. There are obviously the International Monetary Fund packages and the very tempting loans they are offering. There is also what the West calls the democratization process. The United States and Europe send experts, NGOs, and funding to allegedly help post-revolutionary Arab governments transition into democracy. In reality, what they aim to do is shut down any real alternatives by imposing a shallow liberal democracy backed by military institutions…

NG: Many of the democratization projects are a real threat to real democracy. That is what they have done since the 1970s, dealing with what could be considered democratic movements from below being suffocated by the elite’s democratic projects; that has been successful…

YM: There is so much funding and NGOization of the process; the aim of Western experts who help with and monitor the elections is to prevent alternatives, and this was clearly demonstrated in the Libyan and Egyptian elections …

Now, I would like to ask you about the idea of spontaneity that Fanon theorizes at length in his work. You wrote in an article about the revolts within the Arab revolts, “There is an arc of spontaneous revolts, beautiful in their creative beginnings, which traverses boundaries and borders and creates new solidarities and imaginations but which under the whip of the forces of order and strategies to buy-off sectors of the revolt becomes fragmented.” Elsewhere you write, “The fragile new communities become destructured and can very often be destroyed by intrigue and rumor encouraged by agent provocateurs.” And you add, echoing Fanon’s “The Grandeur and Weakness of Spontaneity,” that “the grand schemes of liberation, however indistinct and amorphous, can quickly be compromised, consumed by petty disputes and local hatreds.” While Arab protesters are constantly organizing and planning, spontaneity has played an important role in many of the protests. You mention above that there is a need to transcend spontaneity in order to challenge the regime’s hegemonic project. Do you think that too much spontaneity could be detrimental? I am thinking more specifically about the Syrian case. Sometimes there is lack of leadership, and due to the repression of the regime, the Syrian uprising seems much more spontaneous and decentralized than the Egyptian revolt. Some commentators have suggested that heterogeneity and decentralization are actually benefiting the Syrian uprising.

NG: It is a difficult question. First, what is interesting about the revolts is that they show that there is never anything purely spontaneous, and there is always some thinking and discussion, and thus some kind of organization involved in it. I think that what is interesting about Fanon’s critique of spontaneity is that it is not simply an organization question. The position of the old left is to posit spontaneity as the opposite of organization. In other words, spontaneity needs organization. The problem for Rosa Luxemburg in the Mass Strike is that she could not break with the vanguard party concept. Fanon is saying something different. Although he is saying that you need organization, he also makes the point that organization cannot simply be parachuted in from outside and be applied to these spontaneous movements. There has to be some kind of “organic” organization that grows out of them, and by that he includes the organization of thinking and reflecting on the rationality of revolt. Grassroots organizations do not need NGOs or professionals to tell them what to do or what to think. That is to say, the real pitfall of spontaneity is the limitation on thought, which is for him Manichean, and is often reproduced by NGO intellectuals. Ideas are suppressed for the sake of action, but then the problem or the weakness of spontaneity is not simply that it exhorts itself in action, but that a change in tactics by the oppressor can be totally disorienting. In certain ways, as I mentioned, intrigue, agent provocateurs, dirty tricks—all the kind of things that governments do to break movements—do in fact break them, because a spontaneous movement, as far as it is reactive, has not really worked out what it is for outside of what is against. That is, in a certain sense, Fanon’s critique of spontaneity. Now, it does not mean that all spontaneous movements are necessarily lacking in that way. What needs to happen is not simply that local spontaneous demonstrations or activity need to be organized; this can be done quite simply. We have the technology. What everyone recognized, almost immediately, about the Tahrir Square moment was the way that social media was a great organizing force. The revolt became understood globally, almost immediately, as more than a local event. Of course, there was pre-history to the revolt, but the larger question is, what are the principles that will unite these disparate movements? To work this out you need to encourage spaces of open and democratic discussion, and, of course, this was also what Tahrir was about, and that was more important than the social media stuff. Indeed, one could say that the seemingly endless debates were even more important than getting rid of Mubarak, because the joy of that event did not last. As soon as Mubarak left, the military was able to demobilize Tahrir slowly.

So, what should organizations active in the struggle and committed to social liberation do? In a completely different time, in 1956, just as the battle of Algiers was beginning, a conference took place in the Soummam Valley. Under the guise of the French military, the FLN was able to meet and to work out a whole bunch of principles about how to operate nationally; how to ensure that the military was subservient to the political wing of the movement; how they would ensure a collective leadership and collective decision-making. Fundamental questions, but not simply formulaic, the subservience of the military to political decision making must mean now, even more than then, a real democratic, and not elite politics. In addition, the conference discussed for what they were fighting. For national liberation, but they also articulated certain general principles framing the struggle as non-sectarian, secular, democratic, socialist, and so forth. And even though they were under the whip of the French military, and in an area under French control, they were able to meet clandestinely for a week. That conference had a tremendous effect on Fanon, and you can see some of the principles articulated in A Dying Colonialism and also in the Wretched of the Earth. So, it is not impossible, especially with new technologies, to be able to develop and agree on some overarching principles. The greatness of Soummam was not only the platform, but that they met at all, and did under those circumstances. When I speak of principles, I do not mean a proclamation. It is not a question of intellectuals proclaiming this or that, but rather what emerges from grassroots discussions and meetings—living principles, if you will. Thus, organization has to come from an agreement about principles, rather than just the need to coordinate: so as much as we must all act today in a concerted manner, that should not be the ground of an organization. Indeed, often such agreements about tactics close down the needed spaces for political and philosophical discussion.

YM: The situation in Syria is complex and unique. The regime portrays itself as anti-imperial, anti-Zionist, and pro-Palestinian; it has allies such as Iran, China, and Russia to support its repressive actions. More disheartening however, progressive leaders such as Hugo Chavez and Fidel Castro have demonstrated their support for the Syrian regime. Likewise, some of the left in the United States and Europe have denounced the Syrian opposition as simply the agents of the West and the theocratic regimes of the Gulf. At the same time, the United States and Israel have real interests in that region, and their policies are obviously not driven by a desire to “democratize” Syria or other countries in the region. Some of the Syrian opposition argues rightly that while the Syrian regime was, in fact, at times isolated geopolitically for its support of Hamas, Hezbollah, or Iran, it has also worked very closely with the United States and the West throughout its history. The rhetoric about anti-imperialism is a form of pragmatic posturing, rather than a real ethico-political position. At the same time, it is true that some of the opposition receives funding and political support from the Gulf and the West. How do you see the position of the left within such a conjuncture? What would be a decolonial position or epistemology in this difficult and complex context? What would be the priority from a decolonial perspective? Is it more important to topple the regime and then tackle questions of imperialism and the West? Or is it crucial to oppose both at once? What can we learn from Fanon?

NG: There are two ways of thinking about it. First, it is pretty Manichean, is it not, to think about these big political terms, anti-Zionism, anti-imperialism, and then to accuse those who do not agree with you of being Zionist or imperialist. Manicheanism is like a vacuum, it is an either or situation that curtails or destroys the development of liberatory thought. Fanon certainly understood that kind of politics. It is reminiscent of the cold war politics from within he was writing. The colonial power tended to be France or Britain, and the Soviets were proclaimed as anti-imperialists. So, if you align yourself with the Soviets, it fits nicely with that kind of rhetorical division, but in reality it does not get you anywhere.

YM: But when the FLN was pressured to align itself with the Soviet Union and include something to that regard in its program, Fanon was opposed to it, and argued that this question should be postponed. He said that the FLN should not be pressured to take a position before it achieves its own independence. I believe he wrote about it in Dying Colonialism.

NG: He saw the cold war as a whirlwind, sucking the independence movements into this kind of either or situation. Though this seems an historical point, it is analogous to today. Certainly, Fanon was not pro-Soviet. He supported the rebellion in Hungary in 1956. He certainly was not pro-Communist Party, because the French Communist Party was very weak on Algerian liberation and the Algerian Communist Party simply followed the French. For him, it was about Algerian liberation. That was the measure. Then there are the tendencies within the Algerian Liberation, and that is another messy question. To get to the question of Syria and whether one can entertain a united front, which in part is backed by the Saudis and the West against the regime (which is in part backed by the Iranians and the Russians) is very difficult. In a certain sense, one can go back to Lumumba in the Congo, seeing how he tried to navigate post-independence by playing the Americans off the Soviets. The internal intrigue became too much. He was simply liquidated, and Mobutu (with US support) ruled despotically for 30 years. Fanon does not give you a blueprint on what you should do, but I think you almost have to go with it on your own and be very wary of being tied to any external power. In the context of the Algerian revolution, Fanon met a number of West African revolutionaries. One by one, these leaders were eliminated. Not only Lumumba in the Congo, but also Felix Moumié in the Cameroon. In other words, the colonial regime makes sure, often with the help of surrogates, that radical leaders and those honest principled intellectuals and activists who refuse to compromise their principles of independence are eliminated, so that the postcolonial regime (and especially its resources) remains accessible. The result has been a disaster for the (post)colonial world. In other words, Fanon is very wary of neocolonialism emerging under the guise of independence, often cloaked by a rhetorical anti-colonialism. That is the great threat that he maps out in the Wretched of the Earth, and it is something we have been living with for fifty years. The threat takes new forms, we have seen comprador kinds of bourgeoisies, often backed by the military, governing over a rentier state, as well as a fractured state of local militarized elites backed by one or another regional powers; both examples are also threats for Arab liberation. In that particular case, I think what Fanon maps out in the Wretched of the Earth, in the “Pitfalls of National Consciousness,” could be very useful in thinking about this present moment—in thinking about all the tendencies and possible scenarios. It is a hornet’s nest, or, as Lenin said about the League of Nations and could be said about the United Nations, it is a thieves’ kitchen. Everyone wants to get in there, all the imperial thieves, the regional thieves, and the local ones as well.

YM: And yet if we think about Libya, when Gaddafi was about to seize Benghazi and in the Syrian case, when the regime is massacring people in an extremely violent way on a daily basis, practically speaking, is it possible to open several fronts and confront the despotic regime and the imperial power all at once? Is it possible to make certain temporary concessions until the regime is toppled? Is it fair to ask people who are bombed, massacred, and killed to think about the comprador and the bourgeoisie and the outcomes of their revolts in the future? What these populations are doing is simply trying to escape death and survive.

NG: You are absolutely right, the perspective has to be from the ground up situation. You have to defend yourself, but there is never an ideal situation; it is always a kind of state of emergency, which is why Fanon begins the Wretched of the Earth with “On Violence.” The colonial relation is one of violence. The internalization of violence and anxieties of violence is what concerns Fanon, since movements emerge in the context of brutality and the brutality of thought. 

YM: This is obviously a dividing question for the Syrian opposition. The opposition is divided along these questions. Part of it, mostly the left and the nationalists, does not want intervention and, generally speaking, opposes militarization but at the same time is willing to negotiate with the regime and possibly form a unity government. It lost part of its credibility because of that. On the other hand, the liberals and the Muslim Brotherhood, in addition to part of the left, are welcoming the support of the West whether it is financial or political. At the same time, many of the Syrian people do not recognize themselves in either one. It is a conundrum.

NG: It is; the thing is that neither one side nor the other is right in this equation. You can see the pitfalls of either side. A negotiation with the government will not lead to anything. The state will outmaneuver them. The Syrian people do not recognize themselves in the elite politics of the Muslim Brotherhood or the left, each of which is looking for an external power rather than the people’s own self-activity. It gets us back to that question on spontaneity and organization. What kind of organization—understood as a living organism, a living body, and not an authoritative party or elite group—is going to emerge? It is really an open question. There is no answer. There is not an answer because there is not a clear alternative being developed. But, it does not mean that we have to dismiss the concrete situation. People are facing state brutality and military power. Fanon has something to say about this—not as a philosopher of violence, as some think, but as a critic of the militarization of these revolts. The military defeat of an oppressive regime is important, but it does not answer our problems. It is where our problems begin, since social change cannot be reduced to a military solution. We get back to the issue of the needed second stage of liberation, and it goes back to Fanon’s warning—his great fear that the great threat to Africa’s liberation was the absence of liberatory ideology. The gunmen fill that space. For Fanon, political discussion necessitates the inclusion of the people, and Fanon speaks about the important relationship that must be built up between the armed struggle and the people. Too often, and often in the name of security, the local people who cannot leave an area that has been militarized are not included. They simply become victims. The situation is Manichean. There is a clear enemy, so the gunmen must be supported unquestionably and without thinking. It is a politics of substitutionism, because all we need to do is support the armed struggle. But, this is exactly at the moment when there has to be critical and inclusive discussion about what kind of polity you want to develop. If you wait until after (after the military victory, after the election, after the UN judgment, etc.) to discuss and act on that, you will find it is too late. The moment—indeed the historical moment—is lost, and a new ruling elite pact, brokered by regional and global power, uses all its power to pacify the people and ensure demobilization, all in the name of the nation, ethnicity, religion, or even the struggle, to obscure its real interest.

-----------------------------------
Notes

[1]Fanon, Frantz. The Wretched of the Earth. Grove Press, 1963, p. 206.
[2] Ibid., p. 88.

In an irony of history, the old Lebanon, feared in the decade of the 1970s for its hijackers, is now the victim of kidnappings. The confusion is greater when Lebanese are kidnapped in Syria and Syrians are kidnapped in Lebanon as a deliberate proxy war between pro-Syrian regime groups in Lebanon, and detractor groups in Syria.

[Families of the eleven Lebanese kidnapped respond to press and ask for immediate release of their relatives.]  

The media reports began to filter in on Wednesday afternoon with the news that either four or eleven of the Lebanese kidnapped last May in Syria had died after the shelling of Izaaz by the Syrian army. Relatives of the eleven Lebanese members of the Moqdad family and Shi`i supporters blocked the road leading to the Beirut airport. Along with other women, the daughter of one of the hostages started a spontaneous sit-in before the Lebanese army was deployed in the area to keep protesters from entering the airport. She said "for more than a week I had not heard news of my father. They say they have all died, after they said that only four died . . . they are playing with our health. We want them to be back, and this regime is doing nothing." The travelers dragged their luggage as best they could through the fire, burning tires, and angry demonstrators. Some of them even stopped, suitcase in hand, to have their pictures taken with the background of fire, fueled by dozens of young men throwing gasoline and tires—a practice that is becoming a national sport, reaching unexpected records this holy month of Ramadan in Lebanon.

 
[Travelers stop to have their picture taken with burning tires as a souvenir before catching their flight.]

Many of the protesters are originally from the Bekaa region, and were condemning the inaction of the Lebanese regime before the hijackings of the Free Syrian Army (FSA). A member of the Moqdad family, one of the most powerful families of the Bekaa, was kidnapped by the FSA, which holds the men as alleged members of Hezbollah. The Moqdad family denies belonging to Hezbollah and has threatened to use its military wing to fight the FSA in Lebanon and Syria, with the support of other powerful clans of the Bekaa region. To prove that their words are not merely a show, they claimed on Wednesday to have seized forty Syrians and one Turkish citizen suspected of being FSA members in Lebanon. This episode highlights the fragility (if not absence) of a Lebanese government, when families, militias, and sheikhs might decide to cut the country's streets indefinitely, block the access to the main airport, or display their gunmen on the streets.

 
[More than 200 young men participated to the road blockage, many of them masked and on motorcycles.]

As a result, more than two-hundred thousand Syrian workers living in Lebanon and more than twenty thousand refugees who arrived since the beginning of the fighting in Syria (in March of last year) have started to tremble. "I'm thinking about returning to Syria. What good is being here under the fear to be kidnapped or killed when my family is in Syria? I'd rather die under the bombs next to them," relates Anouar, a doorman of a building in the neighborhood of Corniche Al Mazra`a in Beirut.

 
[Only few cars are allowed to pass the "checkpoint" to the airport controlled by young masked men.]

Among the demonstrators who cut off the airport road were more than a hundred motorized young men. A wall of fire blocked the cars' way. Only a few luxurious SUVs with tinted windows were allowed to pass through. In one of them was a masked man wearing a military jacket and a pistol, which he pulled repeatedly—at this moment, we all decided to give a break to our cameras and mobiles.

 
[More than 200 young men participated to the road blockage, many of them masked and in motorcycles.]

Some of the travelers were unable to reach the airport. Others, with a great show of normalcy, pushed their luggage (some dragged, while the more fortunate had wheels) towards the military cordon in order to catch their flights.

[All images by Natalia Sancha.]

Political Islam did not really play a prominent role in the success of the Tunisian revolution. Islamists were notably absent from the protests and the revolutionary slogans were about freedom, dignity, and jobs rather than Sharia law or the creation of an Islamic state. This made it reasonably easy for Europeans and Americans to support the Tunisian uprising, as it looked surprisingly non-threatening to the West. In fact, the Tunisian protesters seemed to have much in common with their European and American counterparts involved in demanding more accountability from their own political elites. 

The October 2011 elections, however, offered a different and surprising, at least for some, picture of the country. The Islamist party Ennahda became by far the dominant political movement and now leads a three-party government coalition together with two secular left-leaning parties. This means that former Islamist political prisoners and exiles are today in power. Ennahda’s landslide victory contradicted the assumptions of many analysts and scholars about Tunisia, which was believed to be a haven of secularism in North Africa, thanks to the modernizing policies of both Bourguiba and Ben Ali. If the electoral strength of Ennahda was not enough to question the effective penetration of Tunisian elite-led secularism in society, the very public emergence of Salafism certainly did the trick. Since the departure of Ben Ali, Salafism has acquired a public presence in urban centers, with Salafists from a variety of different movements involved in numerous high profile incidents: holding demonstrations against blasphemy, targeting films and art exhibits, or challenging dress-code regulations in universities. While the actual number of Salafist activists is relatively small, their highly mediatized activities have placed Salafism at the center of both political and scholarly attention. It is this phenomenon, too easily stereotyped, that deserves analysis. 

In particular, the crucial question of the provenance of these Salafists forcefully arises given the reluctance to accept that they are the product of the domestic Tunisian reality. Thus, the francophone press both in Tunisia and France has been covering what they call the “Salafist danger” or the “Salafist cancer,” as if the phenomenon were an aberration in Tunisian society and a significant threat to the construction of a democratic political system. When one looks at the different Tunisian Salafist movements, there are two points that emerge and are worth analyzing. First, far from being simply an externally-generated political phenomenon, Tunisian Salafism has strong domestic roots. Second, and quite paradoxically, the public presence of Salafism might generate a democratic and liberal backlash that could strengthen social and political pluralism in the longer term as large sectors of society mobilize against illiberal and anti-democratic forces. In addition, operating within a more democratic and liberal framework might change the way in which Salafists relate to the state.

As mentioned above, there are different strands within Salafism that are present on the Tunisian public scene. Broadly speaking, there are two large families within Salafism: scientific and Jihadi. The crucial difference between the two families is over the use of armed struggle to attain political objectives. Within scientific Salafism in Tunisia there are groups advocating political engagement and acceptance of democracy within the confines of Sharia law (Jabhat al-Islah) and groups involved in preaching a purist version of Islam (dawa and Wahhabism-influenced groups). It is, however, Jihadi Salafism that has attracted most attention. In particular, more recently, it is the issue of Tunisian Jihadi fighters in Iraq that has surfaced in the press. Far from simply being treated solely as a security issue, the debate over the fate of Tunisian fighters in Iraq generated intense debates about the history of Jihadism in Tunisia, its validity as a form of political expression, and the role that it plays in the currently volatile politics of the country.

Far from being a recent foreign import, Tunisian Jihadism has its historic roots in the dissatisfaction of some Islamists with the political thinking and strategies of the 1980s predecessor of Ennahda: the Mouvement Tendence Islamique (MTI). A radical wing of the MTI splintered from the party to create the Tunisian Islamic Front (TIF) in 1988.  Mohammad Ali Hurath, Abdallah al Haji, Mohammad Khoujia, and Mongi al-Hachmi are the founding members of the group, which operated in Sfax and Tunis. The group had a very limited influence on domestic politics and due to the repressive policies of the government, some of its militants left Tunisia for Peshawar where they took part in the Afghani jihad. Other militants went into exile. Ali Hurath, for instance, found refuge in London after a long period between Algeria, Pakistan, former Yugoslavia, and Germany. In the UK, Hurath eventually became general manager of the “Islam Channel” television station. On the air he delivered fiery and radical speeches, leading the authorities to accuse him of incitement to religious extremism. After the fall of Ben Ali, Hurath negotiated with the new Tunisian authorities to allow his return to Tunis in order to establish a political party, which would run in the 2011 elections. At the same time, he stated that a number of militants had been freed from Tunisian jails and were ready to return to the public scene. The permit to set up a party did not arrive at that stage because the transitional authorities did not place any trust in the democratic commitment of any form of Salafism. However, Jabhat al-Islah was eventually legalized on 29 March 2012, possibly because Ennahda, by then in power, vouched for its commitment to democratic procedures. In the month of May of the same year, the party was formally presented to the public during a ceremony attended by a number of prominent religious figures and, crucially, Rachid Ghannouchi, president of Ennahda. The president of the first legal Salafist Tunisian party is Mohamed Khouja, who had been a prominent member of the TIF in the 1980s. The legalization of this Salafist party indicates two important developments.

First, Jihadists of the older generation, like Hurath and Khouja, preferred from the beginning of the post-revolutionary period to fall within the camp of scientific Salafism and to work within the nascent institutions, despite having major reservations about liberal-democracy and pushing the boundaries of legality with their activities. Thus, the older generation of Salafists seems more attracted by the prospect of participating in institutional politics rather than continuing with street politics. Second, the presence of Ghannouchi at the official presentation suggests that the strategy of engagement Ennahda pursued with sectors of Salafism, to encourage them to pursue their goals thorough the new institutions of the country, has been somewhat successful partly because of the personal relations that the older generation of Islamists have with each other. The problem, however, for future developments in Tunisia is that many of today’s Tunisian Jihadists and Salafists do not really recognize Jabhat al-Islah as their natural home because they draw their ideological and political inspiration from other events and political or military experiences.

[Logo for the Jabhat al-Islah (Reform Front) Party. Image from Tunisia-Live.]

The Palestinian Intifada and the war in Iraq have been the formative experiences for the younger generation of Salafists, and the Jihadist ones in particular. Palestine is still a profoundly important mobilizing issue for Jihadi Salafism from an ideological perspective insofar as it seems to confirm the injustices perpetrated against Muslims, although there is no active participation of foreign Jihadis in Palestine. The war on Iraq, however, has been an actual formative terrain of armed struggle for foreign Jihadis attracted to fighting Americans violating Arab lands. In this respect, those analysts who had predicted that the war in Iraq would generate a Jihadi front across the Middle East and North Africa have been proven correct. It is the war in Iraq that has become central for many young Tunisians. Linking up with Tunisians who had fought in Afghanistan, Bosnia, and Chechnya, there was a concerted attempt since the mid-2000s by Jihadists outside of Tunisia to create a presence in Tunisia itself in order to combat the illegitimate regime of Ben Ali because of its kafir secular nature. The architect of this attempt is Lassaad Sessi, who had resided in Italy for a long time. In April 2006, Sessi and a small group of armed Jihadists crossed the border from Algeria into Tunisia and participated in a gunfight with the Tunisian security forces. Having escaped the security forces, Sessi managed to recruit a few young militants in Sousse, Tunis, and Sidi Bouzid. What is surprising is the relative ease with which such a recruiting campaign occurred, given the supposed insularity of Tunisia from extremism and the omnipresence of the security apparatus.

In 2006, Tunisia was already a rather fertile terrain for Salafist propaganda and recruiting because the external image of Tunisia did not wholly correspond to the reality. Rather than being a country where democracy was being progressively installed, human rights increasingly respected and the pro-market economy delivering high standards of living, Tunisia was, in reality, a deeply authoritarian state with a predatory economy favoring politically connected elites while the wider population, particularly in working class areas and disadvantaged rural regions, suffered from rapidly declining living standards. A small cohort of young people, whose existence would come to be known to public opinion only after the fall of the regime, was attracted to the Salafist political project. The Jihadist group Jund Assad ibn el-Furat was set up in 2006, although severely repressed soon after. This group is the predecessor of the currently operating Jihadi group Ansar Ash-sharia, which was created after the revolution. A report by the International Association for the Protection of Political Prisoners sheds light on the specific traits of the people involved in Jund Assad ibn el-Furat and similar groups. Having analyzed a sample of 1208 political prisoners out of an estimated 2000 who had been jailed on the basis of the very tough anti-terrorist legislation Ben Ali had promulgated, the report makes for interesting reading in terms of the background of Salafist militants in Tunisia throughout 2000. Nearly half of them are between twenty-five and thirty years of age (forty-eight percent of the total), with the group between nineteen and twenty-four representing thirty percent. Almost thirty-nine percent are working class; thirty-four percent are university or secondary school students, and fifteen percent traders or shopkeepers. Their geographical distribution is interesting insofar as all areas of the country are represented, although there is a higher than average concentration in Tunis (23.63 percent), Bizerte (10.77 per cent) Medenine (8.84 percent) and Sidi Bouzid (8.45 percent). According to Nadhif:

All the young people recruited into Jund Assad  ibn Furat were under the control of the security services because of their assiduous frequentation of mosques and because of their physical appearance and attire. They were continuously brought to police stations for questioning and then released. They were suspects, always under pressure and socially marginalised in the sense that police attention meant unemployment. This continued pressure made deeper involvement with the Jihadi movement almost natural. (An-Nadhif, op.cit.).

One of the most significant consequences of the repressive campaign of the 1990s and 2000s together with the virtual annihilation of any form of religious socialisation not sanctioned by the regime has been the solitude of many young people in their quest for spirituality. The marginalization of public religious displays together with an increasing culture of soulless materialism had deeply affected a number of young people during the 2000s, giving rise to what can be termed “spiritual needs.” The worsening economic conditions during the predatory period of the regime compounded the younger generations’ sense of alienation and disempowerment. As one prominent Ennahda leader stated:

Young people did not have much of a choice. Some of them retreated into personal activities with no political significance, others replicated the consumerist behaviour of their western counterparts, and some found a refuge in extremist views of Islam that led them on the wrong path. The blame for this has to be squarely on the regime. (Interview with FC, co-author).

This sense of alienation and solitude in their own country was not a generational novelty; the early pioneers of Tunisian Islamism in the 1970s experienced the same feelings and also turned to religious ethical behavior as a source of political engagement. According to Sami Brahman, there is however a substantial difference between the previous quest for spirituality and renewed politics when compared to the contemporary one:

While the young Islamists of the 1970s read a considerable amount of political theory, had long discussions, and shared loci of decision-making; the religiously-oriented youth of the 2000s lived in almost complete isolation, had no contacts with the leaders they referred to, and displayed forms of behaviour that they had quickly downloaded from fatwas taken on the internet. (Interview with FM, co-author).

The international situation contributed to further radicalization. In part, this explains why this Jihadi Salafism oscillated between violence and peaceful means, notably preaching. The young militants were isolated from each other physically, and united only through a shared spirituality found on the internet and linked by the great Arab causes of the decade: Palestine and Iraq. There were physical places where militants met in Ben Ali’s Tunisia, such as the “campus” and the Malek ibn Anas mosques (Interview with Youssef Nouioui, member of Ennahda, interview with FM, co-author), but they were under surveillance given the autonomous ideas of the imams preaching there, who chose to ignore the sermons distributed by the state.

The fall of the regime changed everything for Tunisian Salafism. One of the first events to occur in post-revolutionary Tunisia was the liberation of political prisoners, including the Salafists. Their liberation, coupled with the return of Jihadi exiles and with the emergence of new recruits, created the necessary synergy for the arrival on the political scene. By April 2011, the group Ansar Ash-Sharia was formed. Ansar Ash-Sharia is the most important Salafist group in the country today and a year after its creation it keeps growing, as demonstrated by the mass rally in Kairouan to celebrate its first anniversary, attended by thousands of people (variably estimated at between 5000 and 15000). The group rejects democracy as being extraneous to the teaching and the “living” of Islam and therefore concentrates its effort on the dawa, making it more difficult to categorize it as a Jihadi group at all. Preaching and non-adoption of armed violence means attempting to exercise a degree of control over society and the behavior of individuals in order to reinforce social mores derived from what the group refers to as “the straight path of Islam in its strictest interpretation.” First, the group organized “occupy mosques” campaigns whereby imams who were accused of having been too loyal to the regime were chased out. Second, significant attention was given to the issue of Tunisian prisoners in Iraqi jails and their plight in detention. The group organized advocacy campaigns and lobbied the Tunisian government to intervene on their behalf. Family members of the Tunisian prisoners in Iraq set up a non-governmental organization to highlight the issue. Finally, they organized campaigns to defend religious symbols, to make blasphemy a criminal offense, to introduce gender segregation in public spaces, and to encourage charitable activities. The way in which the group operates is structured around the intellectual framework provided largely by sheikh Khatib Idriss, a Tunisian ideologue of Jihadism who argues that “those who eliminate jihad from the tools with which the message of Islam should be propagated are not Salafist because they eliminate a pillar of Islam...and as Muslims we have to accept Islam in its entirety.” In this respect, “the Jihadi Salafist is different from other Muslims because he is coherent with the whole of the revelation and refuses to dilute it in order to become a moderate simply to appease the government or the unbelievers” (Nasser Hiddouri “I movimenti islamici in Tunisia”, MA thesis, University Orientale, 2010-11, Napoli, Italy).

The activities undertaken in the name of Islam and outlined above are not part of the instruments that political parties or movements utilize, but simply a way of life that strict Muslims should follow in order to propagate “this correct interpretation of Islam, purifying the religion from innovations” (Hiddouri, op. cit.).

Both the activities undertaken and the intellectual ideological framework do not yet clarify in practice how this Salafist Jihadism is going to attain its objectives, which, despite the Ansar Ash-Sharia’s rejection of institutional politics, are inherently political because they entail the transformation of society. For the moment, Sheikh Idriss has been reassuring and terrorism has not made an appearance in Tunisia in post-revolutionary times:

Our instrument is preaching, in other words the spreading and teaching of Islam in a peaceful manner. We do not wish to make war on anybody because the term jihad does not exclusively mean fighting, but it is also the struggle to propagate the message of Islam through the dawa, through participation in the solution of problems, although in the confines of sharia law” (Hiddouri, op.cit. p.43).

Calling for the form of jihad understood as fighting is not yet an option for the current generation of Salafists, making it more problematic to place them into the Jihadi category. It is well known that the group considers the current government hostile to Salafism, but at the same time it cannot be considered an enemy to be fought through an armed struggle, since it has yet to prevent the teaching and the dawa of the Salafist groups. This is a rather novel situation for Salafism in the sense that the freedom of the social and public space is very significant and the Salafists are forced, in some ways, to recognize the benefits of operating in an environment where they can work in society as they please, despite the fact that the country is run by Muslims “who no longer practice and live the real religion.” Conversely, the government, and Ennahda in particular, tend to leave Salafists alone in their social activities to the point that the secular sectors of society argue that the hand of the Salafists is too free and interferes with the construction of an open and pluralistic Tunisia, devoid of religious extremism. The national and international francophone press airs these views often in its coverage of Tunisia.

In many ways Ennahda tends to see the Salafists as potential traveling companions who need to be re-educated and reintegrated into political institutions. The secular parties see them as ideological rivals and as anti-democratic, and therefore, mobilize strongly against them. Paradoxically, this interplay might positively reinforce the construction of a democratic and more liberal Tunisia because finally, all sorts of issues can be discussed in public, and differences about the nature and direction of the country can be aired. Thus, contrary to expectations, university elections rewarded leftist lists rather than the Islamist ones. It is for this reason that we also see contradictory behavior among Salafists, who at times use street violence to demonstrate against perceived attacks on religion, and at other times seem quite happy to refrain from demonstrating more forcefully against the government or reject the calls to violence coming from al-Qaeda leader Ayman Zawahiri, despite proclaiming quite openly their admiration for international Jihadism.

In conclusion, there are a number of interesting points that can be made about the arrival of Salafism on the Tunisian public scene, which goes beyond the effective number of its followers and its different forms. First, and contrary to what many in Tunisia have contended, Salafism is not an externally-generated phenomenon. It appears quite clearly that such forms of political and social engagement, however marginal, have been present in the country for two decades and despite interacting with international Salafism, it has roots in Tunisia. The fall of the Ben Ali regime has simply allowed militants and activists to operate in the open. Second, there are no doubts that there is a linkage between vast sectors of Tunisian Salafism and the brand and ideology of international Jihadi Salafism. For instance, Abu Ayadh, the emir of Ansar Ash-Sharia, fought in Afghanistan. While there might be no direct structural linkages, both leaders and ordinary activists declare without many problems their allegiance to the symbols of the international jihad. This, however, has not meant the import of armed violence in Tunisia. Third, Tunisian Salafism is in a process of structuralizing in an atmosphere of liberty and freedom that bears no comparison with the rest of the Arab world. Such an environment is a double-edged sword for Salafism. On the one hand, the vast majority of Tunisians considers the views of the Salafists extreme, and some of them call on the government to crack down more forcefully on Salafist groups, given that they are often accused of violent intimidation. In this respect, the possibility to freely proselytize is a boost for the Salafists and a problem for others, but this has to be accepted in pluralist society. On the other hand, and probably more significantly, Salafism finds a significant obstacle to its activities because of the capacity of Tunisian society to mobilize strongly against it. In a way, Tunisian Salafism finds itself having to manage the costs and the benefits of operating within a nascent liberal-democratic framework that it ideologically opposes. Some groups, including the Party of Reform, have come to terms with democratic procedures while remaining critical of extensive liberal rights. Others wholeheartedly reject liberal-democracy, but are still unclear how far they can go in trying to set up an alternative political system in place.

It is very difficult to predict what the future holds for both Tunisia and Tunisian Salafism, but the political institutionalization of the Salafist phenomenon is still a possibility. After all, the use of violence has not yet occurred despite the tensions that have characterized the political debate over the last eighteen months, with Ennahda trying to demonstrate its resolve in dealing with Salafist disturbances and over-the-top campaigning and activities. In any case, what is going to determine the way in which the Tunisian revolution will evolve largely depends, according to Sami Braham, “from the socio-economic element…the ability of the political institutions to respond to the enormous expectations of the population, particularly its poorer sectors, in terms of employment and economic growth” (Interview with FM, co-author).

What is also important is the attitude of Ennahda toward this phenomenon, which is both a challenge and opportunity for the leading party in Tunisia. As Rachid Ghannouchi, leader of Ennahda, put it:

The Salafist youth reminds me of my youth and the relationship we had with the extremism (secular, in this case) that Bourguiba displayed in the 1970s. The 1990s produced a second generation of angry young men because of the absence of Islam in society. The 1990s were catastrophic for religion: the mosques, having become centres of praise for Ben Ali, were deserted; theology books disappeared from libraries. There were no girls with their heads covered...The children of a number of Islamist activists have become Salafists! This is a generation that was born with their fathers being absent and has grown up listening, like a litany, to stories of torture and suffering. The only references that unfortunately they found were religious channels from the Gulf, with a strong Salafist message. However, I am convinced that in ten to fifteen years Tunisia will be able to welcome back the Salafists just like it did with the Islamists of my generation who have been reconciled with moderate indigenous Islam. The ability of this country to tame the toughest plants is quite incredible! (La Presse, 31 July, 2012).

One can disagree with the assessment of Salafism that Ghannouchi puts forth, and many secular Tunisians would certainly not subscribe to the view that Salafism can be reconciled with a liberal and democratic Tunisia, but liberal-democracy and its workings might in time weaken Salafism to the point of accepting and working within the nascent institutions.

[The authors are grateful to the Gerda Henkel Foundation for funding their research in Tunisia in the context of the project “From Over-Estimation to Under-Estimation: The Trajectory of Political Islam in Five MENA Countries.”]

حاز قرار الرئيس محمد مرسي الأخير والقاضي بإحالة قادة عسكريين كبار إلى التقاعد على إشادة باعتباره خطوة كبيرة على طريق إنهاء عسكرة الدولة المصرية. يمثل هذا القرار بالنسبة لبعض المتفائلين نصراً للثورة على أعدائها داخل المؤسسة العسكرية. لا شك أن هذا الفعل سيكون تاريخياً وبأنه ربما يكون المقدمة لعهد جديد في العلاقات المدنية- العسكرية في مصر. في الوقت نفسه، ورغم الإثارة التي تحملها ترجمة الأحداث الأخيرة كانقلاب مدني على حكام مصر العسكريين، فإن هناك مؤشرات أن ما حدث كان نتاج حركة بين الرتب العسكرية لتجنب مواجهة وشيكة مع القوى السياسية المدنية، ولإعادة النظر في دور الجيش في السياسة بطريقة تترك الحكم الذاتي للجيش ومصالحه طويلة الأمد مصانة لا تمس. 

لا تزال الظروف التي أحاطت بقرارات مرسي ضبابية، ونحن بكل تأكيد نعلم تفاصيل جديدة كلما تكشف لنا شيء من الموقف. ورغم هذا، فإن المضمون الذي وقع فيه هذا الفعل كاشف بكل تأكيد. من الجدير بالذكر أن الحديث عن إضعاف قبضة الاخوان المسلمين على مؤسسة الرئاسة قد تزايد في الأسابيع الأخيرة، وخصوصاً في ضوء الدعوات لمظاهرات حاشدة في الرابع والعشرين من أغسطس ضد ما أسماه البعض "حكم الإخوان". وقد تزعم هذه الدعوات أشخاص معروفون بقربهم من الجيش، ومن أشهرهم مذيع أحد البرامج الحوارية، توفيق عكاشة، ونائب مجلس الشعب السابق، مصطفى بكري، والذي انتهز كل فرصة في السابق لدعم، وتبرير، وترويج مواقف المجلس العسكري الأعلى طوال فترة ما بعد مبارك. 

تتناقل المنتديات على الانترنت دعوات التظاهر التي تضمنت تهديدات بحرق مكاتب الإخوان المسلمين في عموم مصر. النائب السابق، محمود أبو حامد، وهو أحد أكبر المؤيدين للتظاهرات، ذهب إلى حد القول إن تظاهرات يوم الرابع والعشرين من أغسطس لن تكون مظاهرات مليونية فحسب، ولكنها ستكون ثورة حقيقية مشابهة لثورة الخامس والعشرين من يناير في العام الماضي. ومن المثير للاهتمام أن الدعوات لإسقاط "حكم الاخوان" تتطابق مع التصريح العلني الذي أدلى به وزير الدفاع (السابق الآن)، حسين طنطاوي، من أن الجيش لن يسمح "لفصيل واحد" أن يحكم مصر، في إشارة واضحة ضد سيطرة الإخوان المسلمين على المشهد السياسي. 

تشير هذه الاتجاهات بالترافق مع التطورات التي لحقتها، إلى أن قادة الجيش ربما كانوا يحثون حلفاءهم، والبعض من المؤثرين على الرأي العام، إضافة إلى القنوات الإعلامية الصديقة على الترويج لصورة الدعم الشعبي لانقلاب على الاخوان المسلمين. بل إن هناك أدلة على أن بعض قادة الجيش حاولوا علناً أن يقللوا من قيمة أداء مرسي في أعين الناس في محاولة لإعلاء الأصوات المؤيدة لمسيرة يوم الرابع والعشرين من أغسطس. فعلى سبيل المثال، حين كان مرسي يشارك في القمة الإفريقية في أثيوبيا في منتصف يوليو، انسحبت قوات الشرطة من مواقعها الأمنية في المستشفيات العامة في ظروف غامضة. مهد هذا الانسحاب الطريق لهجمات من قبل البلطجية، الأمر الذي استدعى هجمات مضادة من قبل العاملين في المستشفيات والذين أضرهم غياب الأمن، ناهيك عن النقد الشعبي لمرسي بسبب "فشله" في تحقيق وعده باستعادة الأمن في الشارع المصري.

بينما يبدو من السهل للكثير من المحللين أن ينكروا هذه الأنماط كدليل آخر على انعدام الكفاءة الحكومية، مصحوبة بالخداع المثير الذي يقوم به توفيق عكاشة، فإنه يبدو أن بعض القادة الأمنيين قد أخذوا هذه التطورات على محمل الجد. ففي الأسبوع الماضي، أوقفت السلطات المصرية بث محطة عكاشة وبدأت تحقيقاً معه بخصوص مزاعم عن "تحريض المشاهدين على قتل الرئيس محمد مرسي ودعم انقلاب عسكري". وفي يوم السبت، تمت مصادرة أعداد من جريدة "الدستور" بعد أن نشرت الجريدة حلقات معنونة بتحذيرات من أسلمة الدولة على أيدي الاخوان المسلمين، وبكلمات أخرى، دعت لانقلاب على مرسي. أوردت الحلقة الأخيرة من هذه المقالات على الصفحة الأولى ما يلي:

"إن إنقاذ مصر من الهلاك القادم لن يكون إلا باتحاد الجيش والشعب، وتكوين جبهة إنقاذ وطنية من القيادات الوطنية والجيش إعلاماً لدولة مدنية صريحة بحماية عسكرية مطابقاة تماماً للنظام التركي. إن لم يحدث هذا خلال الأيام القليلة القادمة،  سوف تسقط مصر وتنهار وسوف نندم على الأيام المتبقية قبل إعلان الدستور. خروج الشعب في التظاهر السلمي أمر حتمي وواجب وطني حتى يستجيب الجيش ويعلن تأييده للشعب". 

تشير هذه التطورات إلى أن التصاعد الحالي في الدعوات الشعبية لانقلاب عسكري، يؤشر إلى ميل من جانب بعض أعضاء المجلس العسكري الأعلى للتحضير لخطوات لإضعاف رئاسة مرسي، إن لم نقل تهميشها بالكامل. هذا التوجه ليس مفاجئاً خصوصاً أنه كان من الواضح للعيان وبشكل محرج أن قادة المجلس العسكري، وخصوصاً طنطاوي، لم يكونوا مرتاحين لفكرة إظهار أي علامة من علامات الخضوع لسلطة مدنية. لم يكن طنطاوي حريصاً فقط على إظهار نفسه علناً وكأنه الرئيس الثاني للبلاد، ولكن الأخبار أكدت أنه رفض حضور إجتماعات مجلس الوزراء برئاسة رئيس الوزراء المعين، هشام قنديل، ليتجنب أي تلميح أنه يخضع لرئيس مدني. ومن المحتمل أن طنطاوي شعر مع آخرين أنه مجبر على إضعاف رئاسة مرسي بعد إحساسه أن الرئيس المنتخب بدأ يحظى بقبول من قادة بارزين في الجيش.، وأنهم يقبلون أن ينقلوا المزيد من السلطات إليه أكثر مما يرغب به الحرس القديم في الجيش. وكان الرد اللاحق لقادة آخرين في الجيش هو المساعدة على إخراج قادتهم المتهورين خوفاً من أن إلتزام رؤسائهم بإطالة أمد الصراع مع الاخوان المسلمين قد يقود الجيش إلى مأزق مع القوى الشعبية المعبأة ضد الجيش، ويضعف إلى حد كبير قبضة الجيش على امتيازاته السياسية والاقتصادية التى بناها منذ زمن طويل. لذلك، كان من غير المفاجئ أن نعلم من مصادر داخل القصر الجمهوري أن كلا من طنطاوي، وسامي عنان، رئيس الأركان السابق، قد تفاجآ حين علما بخبر إقالتهما. بتعبير آخر، فقد شاهدنا أن ما حدث في 12 أغسطس لم يكن انقلاباً بالمعنى الصحيح، ولكنه انقلاب استباقي هدفه تجنب مواجهة سياسية وفعلية على الأرض بين الجيش والاخوان المسلمين، وربما تجنب موجة جديدة من التعبئة الجماهيرية المضادة للمجلس العسكري.

إن الطريقة التي وقعت فيها هذه الأحداث تشير إلى أنه من غير المتوقع أن يكون مرسي، أو حتى الاخوان المسلمون، قد تمكنوا من القيام بها بمفردهم بدون دعم، أو حتى قيادة، من قبل بعض المسؤولين البارزين في الجيش. أولا، فقد قام اللواء، محمد العصار، وهو عضو في المجلس العسكري وتمت مكافأته في التغيير الأخير، بإبلاغ الصحافة على الفور بعد الاعلان عن قرار مرسي أن الرئيس قام في الواقع بالتشاور مع قادة الجيش قبل إحالة طنطاوي وعنان للتقاعد. إنه من الصعب حقيقة تخيل أن مسؤولي التلفزيون الرسمي قد وافقوا على إذاعة أخبار مثيرة كهذه بدون بعض التأكيدات أن بعض من يمسكون بزمام الأمور داخل الجيش موافقون عليها، وأنه لن تكون هناك عقوبات على أية أخطاء بهذا الخصوص. إضافة لهذا، فإن المخرج المشرف لطنطاوي وعنان، اللذين منحا وسامين عسكريين ومنصبي مستشاري الرئيس، يشير إلى أن يداً صديقة من الجيش كان لها ضلع في التأكد من أن قرار مرسي سيعطي رسالة للجميع أن قادة الجيش سيُعاملون باحترام وتوقير أمام الرأي العام، بغض النظر عن الخلافات السياسية. والأهم من هذا كله أن هذا المخرج الآمن يمكن أن يبرز محاولة من قبل بعض الضباط لإرسال رسالة واضحة ( تخدمهم شخصياً أيضاً) أن عهد الإهانة العلنية لقاد الجيش قد ولى، وأن محاسبتهم على أخطائهم لم تبدأ بعد، وربما لن تحدث أبداً.

هناك أسباب أخرى تدفعنا للاعتقاد أن التغييرات الأخيرة ليست جزءاً من انقلاب مدني خالص قاده مرسي. إن خطوة جريئة وشديدة الخطورة كهذه لا تتسق مع الأسلوب الحذر الذي أظهرته جماعة الإخوان المسلمين وقادتها خلال العام والنصف الماضيين، إضافة إلى ما يبدو من براغماتية الجماعة في إرضاء جنرالات الجيش الذين طالما امتلكوا القدرة على عكس المكاسب السياسية للإخوان المسلمين. إنه من الصعب تخيل أن قرار مرسي بإقالة قادة الجيش قد تم بدون بعض التطمينات إلي أن الضباط الآخرين سيؤيدون هذا القرار ولن يقفوا في جانب قادتهم ضد الرئيس. في الحقيقة، فقبل إعلان التغييرات بأيام، اعترف مرسي ضمنياً باستقلال قادة الجيش في إدارة شؤونهم كما ورد في الاعلان الدستوري المكمل الصادر في السابع عشر من يونيو عن طريق تكليف  طنطاوي بتغيير حمدي بدين، قائد الشرطة العسكرية، بدلا من أن يقوم بنفسه بهذا التغيير. 

إن الطريقة التي تم بها التغيير تعكس ترجمة محافظة للإعلان الدستوري، خصوصا النقطة التي توجب على الرئيس أن يعود إلى الضباط فيما يخص التعيينات الرفيعة في الجيش. هذا التصرف من مرسي لا يمكن توقعه من شخص كان يعد لمواجهة شاملة مع المجلس العسكري. بل إنه يبين أنه حتى وقت قريب، كان مرسي لا يزال يلعب اللعبة التي وضع قواعدها المجلس العسكري، ولم تكن هناك إشارات إلى أنه كان في الواقع يخطط "للذهاب للحرب". يبدو أن التغيير الأهم الذي حدث في الثاني عشر من أغسطس هو أن المجلس العسكري لم يعد هو اللاعب الأوحد، كما أن الدعم لتغيير في القيادة في صفوف الجيش من قادة عسكريين كبار، مثل وزير الدفاع الجديد، عبد الفتاح السيسي، واللواء محمد العصار، بدا أكثر وضوحاً. هؤلاء المسؤولون، الذين تمت مكافأتهم في التغييرات اللاحقة، ربما كانوا متخوفين من أن طنطاوي وعنان قد عقدا العزم على جر الجيش إلى مواجهات أخرى مع الاخوان المسلمين، وعناصر أخرى مضادة للمجلس العسكري من خلال ترتيب محتمل لانقلاب عسكري.  

إن مشهداً كهذا لن يطيل من عمر الدور المكلف والمفتقر للشعبية الذي يلعبه المجلس في حكم مصر في المرحلة الانتقالية فحسب، ولكنه يمكن أن يعرض للخطر مصالح المؤسسة العسكرية السياسية والاقتصادية بعيدة المدى. يمكن للانقلاب على مسؤولين مدنيين أن يقود إلى عزلة دولية، وربما علاقات متوترة مع واشنطن، والتي تستمر في توفير معونة عسكرية سنوية لمصر بمقدار ١،٣ بليون دولار أمريكي. إضافة لهذا، فإن الدخول في مواجهة مع التعبئة الشعبية يمكن أن يثير حزمة أسئلة غير مريحة عن مستقبل الامتيازات التي يحظى بها الجيش منذ أمد بعيد، هذا عدا عن موضوع انسجام المؤسسة وكرامتها فيما إذا عانى قادة المؤسسة من هزيمة مشابهة لما حدث في الحادي عشر من فبراير.

ما يزيد من هذه المخاوف هو أن صورة الجيش قد تأثرت بشدة بعد الهجمات الأخيرة من قبل مجموعات مسلحة على القوات المصرية في سيناء، فيما لا يزال الجيش منشغلاً بالكثير من المعارك التي لم تحسم بعد. ولهذا، فإن التحالف الذي قام بالانقلاب الاستباقي اختار أن ينسق الجيش بالتعاون مع مرسي في اتخاذ خطوات لتهميش هؤلاء القادة ومنع أية إحتمالية لتكثيف دور الجيش في الحياة السياسية. ورغم أنه يبقى من غير الواضح ما ستبرزه هذه التطورات حيث أن مستقبل مصر لا يزال عبارة عن صراع مستمر للتغيير الثوري، فإن بعض الملاحظات تستحق أن نوردها هنا.

أولا، أن نكرر واحداً من أهم الدروس التي تعلمناها من انتفاضة الأيام الثمانية عشر في العام الماضي، أن تغيير الأشخاص لا يعني تغييرات عميقة في المؤسسات. ببساطة، فما مر به الجيش من تغييرات داخلية ومن تسليم السلطات الرئاسية والتشريعية لمرسي على الورق لا يعني أن المؤسسة قد وافقت على التخلي عن إمتيازاتها الموجودة منذ أمد طويل. وهي تشمل السلطة الفرعية التي يمتلكها الجيش في تشكيل سياسة الدفاع والأمن القومي، إضافة إلى الاستقلال الاقتصادي والسياسي لعملياته، وميزانيته، وموارده الطائلة التي يجنيها من إمبراطوريته الاقتصادية بعيداً عن رقابة المؤسسات المدنية المنتخبة. في الحقيقة، فإن التنازلات الأخيرة التي قدمها الجيش للقادة المدنيين يمكن أن يكون هدفها حماية هذه الامتيازات وعدم التخلي عنها. بتعبير آخر، ربما يكون هناك طريق طويل أمامنا في محاولة فرض رقابة مدنية ذات معنى على المؤسسات العسكرية وقادتها. 

ثانياً، إن الرقابة المدنية على الجيش هي واحدة من عقبات عديدة يواجهها مرسي في محاولة تأكيد سلطته على مؤسسات الدولة، والتي يمكن للعناصر المضادة للإصلاح أن تستمر في مقاومة الاشراف الديمقراطي والمحاسبة. على سبيل المثال، وخلافاً للإعتقاد الشعبي السائد، فإن الجيش ليس البيروقراطية الوحيدة التي انخرطت في عمليات جني أرباح بعيدة عن أعين المؤسسات المنتخبة. فالبيروقراطيات المصرية ملأى بتشكيلة متنوعة من صناذيق خاصة خارجة عن الموازنة، والتي تجني ما يقارب ١٠٠ بليون جنيه مصري سنوياً، أو ما يقارب عشرين بالمئة من الانفاق الحكومي الرسمي في العام المالي ٢٠١١/٢٠١٢. إن ما يعنيه هذا هو أن في داخل كل بيروقراطية، مدنية كانت أم عسكرية، يوجد "مجلس عسكري مصغر" متأهب لحماية استقلاله الاقتصادي، ومضاد للامتيازات الديمقراطية التي يحملها القادة المدنيون المنتخبون. وسنرى ما إذا كان مرسي سيختار المواجهة أو الاتفاق مع البيروقراطيات المتنفذة ذات الجذور الممتدة داخل مؤسسات الدولة. 

أخيراً، فإن من أكثر هذه النقاط أهمية هو أن الصراع غير المحسوم بعد في مصر حول التغيير الثوري لا يمكن أن يتم تحجيمه لصراعات سياسية بين الجيش والاخوان المسلمين. وفيما تعد خطوة وضع الجيش تحت رقابة ومحاسبة يقوم بها مسؤولون مدنيون خطوة هامة تجاه تحقيق شعار "خبز، حرية، عدالة إجتماعية"، فغنه من المؤكد أن هذه الخطوة ليست كافية بحد ذاتها. بالنسبة لهؤلاء الذين يؤمنون أن ثورة الخامس والعشرين من يناير كانت دعوة لعقد إجتماعي أكثر إنسانية بين المصريين وحكامهم، ومطالبة بدولة متجاوبة مع الناس وعادلة يمكن لها أن تحقق مطالب الشعب، فإن المعركة الحقيقية تحتاج لوقت طويل لتصل إلى نهايتها.

[نشر المقال على موقع "جدلية" باللغة الإنكليزية، والطبعة الورقية من "إيجبت إندبندنت" وترجمه إلى العربية علي أديب]

Abdelilah Benkirane restera dans les annales politiques du Maroc comme le 1er ministre de façade qui aura incarné jusqu’à la caricature le rôle d’impuissant représentant de la légitimité du vote populaire devant la machine despotique du Makhzen.

Ni ses blagues de mauvais goût, ni ses saillies qui tranchent avec le sérieux de la fonction et avec la gravité de la conjoncture économique, ni son populisme débonnaire n’auront suffit à cacher la réalité d’un homme impuissant devant le roc des injustices et de la tyrannie makhzaniennes, conscient de ses limites et, peut-être même, blessé pour avoir trahi ses engagements et ses valeurs.

Comment est-ce possible qu’un dépositaire du vote populaire s’abaisse à ce point, pour s’excuse auprès de ceux que le peuple marocain n’a pas élu ? Que vaut la volonté du peuple devant celle d’une élite illégitime qui n’a aucune existence constitutionnelle ? Et surtout, à quoi ça sert de voter, si le Makhzen méprise à ce point la volonté des Marocains ? Qu’on ne revienne plus nous expliquer encore et encore que l’on doit nous engager dans la vie politique pour réformer de l’intérieur un régime despotique, pourri jusqu’à l’os, puisqu’on aura toujours d’autres chefs de gouvernements impuissants qui, après avoir été élus, reviendront nous expliquer qu’ils ne peuvent rien ou qu’ils ne sont que de simples fonctionnaire dans la hiérarchie du Makhzen.

Alors qu’il aurait pu démissionner LA TÊTE HAUTE au motif qu’il a été empêché de mener à bien le mandat pour lequel il a été élu (en tant que chef d’un parti majoritaire), c’est-à-dire la lutte contre la corruption et les Corrompus, Abdelilah Benkirane surprend et consterne tout le monde en présentant ses plates excuses à ces derniers, les qualifiant même de respectables !!! (le comble de l’hypocrisie des faibles devant les puissants)

Quelques jours auparavant, il venait d’invoquer un verset du Coran (‘Afa Allah ‘amma salaf) pour justifier son amnistie en faveur de ceux qui ont détourné les institutions étatiques pour servir leurs intérêts personnels ou qui ont volé ou détourné les deniers publics. Mais aucun pardon, ni aucune amnistie pour les plusieurs dizaines d’honnêtes citoyens qui croupissent dans les prisons de la honte juste parce qu’ils ont milité pacifiquement pour leurs droits légitimes. Mais quelle est cette morale qui permet à ce régime de semer autant d’injustices et d’arbitraires ? Et jusqu’à quand les Marocains vont-ils tolérer cela ?

[Cet article a été publié sur Mamfakinch]

المتتبع لمواقف رئيس الحكومة سلام فياض المعلنة يلاحظ أن هناك فيّاضيّة جديدة بدأت بالظهور خلال العام الماضي، أبرز معالمها اختلاف متزايد ما بين برنامج الرئيس وبين ما يمكن أن يطلق عليه برنامج رئيس حكومته، فبعد حالة من الانسجام بين الرجلين تخللتها بعض الخلافات؛ تزايدت وظهرت إلى العلن بعد توقيع اتفاق القاهرة في أيار 2011، وبعد إعلان الدوحة الذي اتفق فيه على تجاوز فياض عند تشكيل الحكومة الوفاقية والاتفاق على أن يترأسها الرئيس "أبو مازن".

لكي نفهم ما جرى علينا أن نبدأ من عند وصول خطة بناء المؤسسات وإنهاء الاحتلال التي طرحتها حكومة فياض إلى سقفها الزمني دون أن تحقق أهدافها. الرئيس استنتج أن هذا يفترض التوجه إلى الأمم المتحدة للحصول على العضوية الكاملة لدولة فلسطين، بينما كان اجتهاد رئيس حكومته أن هذا يمثل معركة مجانية، وبدلًا من وضع المجتمع الدولي أمام مسؤولياته بعد أشادته بجهوزية مؤسسات السلطة وقدرتها على التحول إلى دولة.

الفيّاضيّة الجديدة بدلًا من أن تأخذ العبرة من فشل خطة إقامة الدولة تحت الاحتلال عن طريق إثبات الجدارة تجعل خطة بناء المؤسسات مفتوحة زمنيًّا إلى الأبد، شأنها شأن المرحلة الانتقاليّة المنصوص عليها في اتفاق أوسلو، والتي كان من المفترض أن تنتهي في أيار 1999، وها قد مر أكثر من ثلاثة عشر عامًا على تجاوز هذا التاريخ دون أن يعرف أحد متى يمكن أن تنتهي، أو متى سيتم وضع حد لهذه المرحلة؟

الخلاف على التوجه إلى الأمم المتحدة مجرد رأس "جبل الخلافات" حول العديد من المسائل، ومن أبرزها: 

•    تركيز فياض على بقاء السلطة وتعزيز وجودها حسب المتاح، مع السعي للامتداد في مناطق (ج)، ومقاطعة الاستيطان، والمقاومة الشعبية، دون التقدم العملي الملموس في هذا الاتجاه. وفي هذا السياق، رفض كل المواقف والشعارات التي تدعو أو تهدد بحل السلطة أو تغيير شكلها أو وظائفها والتزاماتها، أو تتحدث عن أنها سلطة بلا سلطة، لأن مثل هذه التصريحات، خصوصًا عندما تطلق من القيادة الفلسطينيّة، تقوض أركان السلطة وتفقدها المصداقيّة وثقة المجتمع الدولي والمانحين، بمن فيهم البنوك والقطاع الخاص؛ وتأكيدًا لهذا الاتجاه تم الاتفاق مؤخرًا بين السلطة وإسرائيل على تحسين جباية العائدات الجمركيّة، وهي خطوة يمكن توظيفها إسرائيليًا ضمن ما يروج له بشأن "السلام الاقتصادي" كوسيلة لإطالة عمر الاحتلال.

•    استعداد فياض، كما جاء في مقابلته مع "الانديبندنت" البريطانية لاستئناف المفاوضات المباشرة دون شروط، مع مواصلة المطالبة بالتزام إسرائيل بإقامة دولة على حدود 1967، بحجة أن استئناف المفاوضات يضمن إقامة علاقات جيدة مع الولايات المتحدة وأوروبا، وبقيّة أطراف المجتمع الدولي، ويمكن من "إنقاذ ما يمكن إنقاذه"، ووضع إسرائيل أمام مسؤولياتها تجاه الفلسطينيين بدعم دولي أفضل.

•    ربط فياض بين التوجه إلى الأمم المتحدة والموافقة الأميركيّة والأوروبيّة، أو الأوروبيّة على الأقل، لأن الفلسطينيين ليسوا بحاجة إلى إعلان آخر لقيام دولة فلسطينيّة يؤدي إلى الاصطدام مع الإدارة الأميركيّة، ليعرفوا ما هو معروف لديهم وللعالم كله، وهو أن هناك 130 أو 140 أو 150 دولة تؤيد حقوقهم، بما فيها إقامة دولة فلسطينيّة، لأن هناك 132 دولة اعترفت بدولة فلسطين.

•    طرح فياض خطة للمصالحةـ ترتكز على الاتفاق على الأمن لوحده، ورفض التوجه للمصالحة بالطريقة المعتمدة طوال السنوات الماضية، من خلال ربط أي خطوة بالإجماع أو التوافق الوطني، التي أدت إلى دفع ثمن المصالحة والتدويل من دون تحقيقهما. ودعا إلى إجراء انتخابات تشريعية في الضفة فقط إذا لم توافق "حماس" على إجرائها في ظل تحول قطاع غزة المتزايد إلى كيان مستقل، وبصورة يكون فيها مرشحون من قطاع غزة دون مشاركة بالتصويت، بما يضمن تمثيل القطاع في المجلس التشريعي القادم، الأمر الذي يمثل تكريسًا للانقسام وانتهاكًا لحق وطني وقانوني لشعبنا في القطاع عبر المشاركة في اختيار من يمثلهم.

•    في المقابلة التي أجراها مع صحيفة الـ"واشنطن بوست" الأميركيّة التي نشرت في حزيران الماضي، دعا فياض إلى طريق ثالث بعد أن راهن على تحالفه مع الرئيس و"فتح"، بدليل أن كتلة الطريق الثالث التي خاضت الانتخابات التشريعية السابقة غابت عن الوجود بعد حصولها على مقعدين فقط، وبُرهانه على ذلك أن "حماس" لا تريد الانتخابات و"فتح" كذلك، ولمح إلى إمكانيّة تشكيل حزب أو الترشح للانتخابات القادمة إذا وجد أن فرصه فيها معقولة. 

•    رفض فياض ترؤس الوفد الفلسطيني الذي أعلن عنه الرئيس بعظمة لسانه لتسليم رئيس الحكومة الإسرائيليّة بنيامين نتنياهو رسالة من الرئيس، لأنه وجدها من دون جدوى وأنه ليس "ساعي بريد".

الفياضيّة تقوم على "الواقعية" بحجة الحفاظ على أهم ما تحقق للفلسطينيين، وخصوصًا من اعتراف أميركي وأوروبي بهم، خصوصًا في ظل عدم طرح بدائل حقيقيّة عن ذلك، لأن الحديث عن البدائل منذ عدة أعوام حتى الآن لم يترتب عليه اعتماد أي بديل، وإنما استمرار الحديث عن البدائل التي أدت إلى دفع ثمنها دون اعتمادها، وإلى تعميق الاحتلال، وتوسيع الاستيطان، وتقطيع الأوصال، والحصار، والجدار.

إن برنامج فياض يقوم على فن الممكن، على أساس "خذ وطالب"، و"شيء باليد أفضل من لا شيء"، والاعتراف بالواقع والعمل على تحسينه، ما يعتبر قفزة عن الهدف الأساسي وهو إزالة الاحتلال، لأن تحسين شروط الاحتلال لا تؤدي بالضرورة إلى إزالته، بل ربما إلى تكريسه.

فمنذ ظهور ما يعرف بالقضيّة الفلسطينيّة، ظهر هناك دائمًا تيار "واقعي" يقوى حينًا ويتراجع أحيانًا أخرى، ينادي بقبول الواقع كما هو، وسبق أن نادى بالاعتماد على التحالف مع دولة الانتداب (بريطانيا) والمراهنة عليها، وقبول التقسيم ثم نتائج النكبة بضم الضفة إلى الأردن وفرض الوصاية المصريّة على قطاع غزة، والقبول بما توصل إليه السادات مع بيغن حول حكم ذاتي للفلسطينيين.

إن توقيع اتفاق أوسلو، والسياسة الرسميّة المعتمدة من ذلك التاريخ وحتى الآن، باستثناءات قليلة ما بين الفترة 2000 - 2004، كانت تعني امتدادًا لمنطق هذا التيار، وعندما وصل طريق المفاوضات إلى حائط مسدود وتعميق الاحتلال، بدأ ياسر عرفات بالعمل على تغييره، ما أدى إلى شن عدوان إسرائيلي شرس بدعم أميركي على السلطة، انتهى بإعادة احتلال الضفة الغربيّة، وفك الارتباط الإسرائيلي مع قطاع غزة، ومحاصرة عرفات في مقره برام الله، والدعوة إلى تغييره وإيجاد قيادة فلسطينيّة جديدة ومختلفة تحارب "الإرهاب"، كما صرح جورج بوش الابن، وصولًا إلى اغتياله.

الفلسطينيون ليسوا بحاجة إلى تجريب المجرب، لأن سياسة الرهان على التوصل إلى حل يقوم على "حل الدولتين" بالاعتماد على المفاوضات برعاية أميركيّة ومشاركة دولية رمزيّة فشلت فشلًا ذريعًا، وإعادة إنتاجها لن تؤدي سوى إلى الحصول على ما حصلنا عليه فعلًا، وربما أسوأ منه، وهو حكم ذاتي موسع أو محدود على جزء من الأرض المحتلة عام 1967 من دون القدس وتصفية قضية اللاجئين، وهو حكم ذاتي يمكن أن يسمى دولة ذات حدود مؤقتة أو إمبراطوريّة، ويمكن أن يقوم باتفاق، أو بتعميق الأمر الواقع الاحتلالي، أو بالخطوات الأحادية الإسرائيلية.

صحيح أن الواقعية الفياضية تبدو اللعبة الوحيدة في المدينة، وما دامت كذلك يمكن أن تنتشر، وأقصى ما يمكن أن تحققه هو تحسين شروط حياة الفلسطينيين تحت الاحتلال، وهي أفضل أو أقل سوءًا أو أسوأ من سياسة المغامرة والانفصال أو اللاسياسة (الانتظار).

ولكن يمكن اعتماد سياسة أخرى وطنيّة وواقعيّة وديمقراطيّة في وقت واحد؛ سياسة تلتزم بحقوق الشعب الفلسطيني وأهدافه الوطنية، لكنها لا تتجاهل الأمر الواقع، بل تسعى إلى تغييره وليس تكريسه أو تحسينه فقط.

لا بد من إعادة الصراع إلى طبيعته بوصفه صراعًا بين شعب تحت الاحتلال واحتلال إجلائي استعماري عنصري، يريد كل شيء والسيطرة على أكبر مساحة ممكنة من الأرض وطرد أكبر عدد ممكن من السكان انتظارًا لظروف محليّة وإقليميّة ودوليّة ملائمة؛ تسمح بتهجير قسري أو طوعي لما تبقى من أصحاب البلد الأصليين، لقطع الطريق على قيام دولة فلسطينية حقيقية على حدود 1967، وعلى تجسيد حق العودة، وعلى قيام دولة واحدة من النهر إلى البحر تصبح ذات أغلبيّة فلسطينيّة، وتحول إسرائيل إلى دولة لكل مواطنيها أو دولة ثنائيّة القوميّة.

على أساس هذا السياسة، يتحول التدويل إلى أحد مكونات البديل الإستراتيجي، وليس تكتيكًا للضغط لاستئناف المفاوضات، وتصبح المقاومة الشاملة بأشكالها المناسبة لكل مرحلة جزءًا من هذه الإستراتيجيّة القائمة على الوحدة وإحياء المشروع الوطني والمؤسسة الوطنية الجامعة، على طريق تغيير موازين القوى كشرط ضروري لتحقيق حل وطني مرحلي أو إستراتيجي.

[نشر للمرة الاولى في جريدة "الايام" الفلسطينية وجدلية تعيد نشره بالإتفاق مع الكاتب.]

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

“Rethinking 24 August”
Ziad Akl says the protest planned for 24 August can work towards the country’s interest if protesters distance themselves from public figures with specific interests calling for the demonstration.

“Movement plans patrols to counter sexual harassment during Eid”
Social activists to coordinate efforts to prevent mass sexual abuse during Eid festivities.

“Activist files murder charges against retired generals”
Activist Ahmed Douma files a lawsuit against Mohamed Tantawi and Sami Annan for killing protesters during popular demonstrations in Cairo.

“Brotherhood leader: Morsy’s Iran visit 'excellent' step, if completed”
The Muslim Brotherhood’s Sabry Khalaf says a visit of the President to Iran can be a positive step towards normalizing relations between the two countries.

“Egyptian rights groups denounce ‘inhumane’ tests on inmates”
Egyptian prisoners are forced to drink soap water in order to check their stomach contents for prohibited items.

“Critics blast Egyptian cleric's fatwa against anti-Morsi protesters”
Sheikh Hashem Islam’s fatwa making it permissible to attack the anti-Muslim Brotherhood protest scheduled for 24 August provokes heavy criticism from public figures.

“Police arrest 20 for blocking road to protest man's death”
Protesters block main road over death of a young man at the hands of the police.

“Profile: Egypt's first civilian VP Mahmoud Mekki”
Reformist judge involved in fight against vote-rigging during the Mubarak era takes the first Vice President post.

“Op-ed: Transparency first”
Reham Barakat insists on transparency in the political life of the country and clear information for its citizens on important matters.

“Meet General El-Sisi, Egypt's new defence minister”
The youngest member of SCAF becomes the first defense minister in Egypt with lower rank.

“Turning point in Egypt’s militarization”
The retirement of Egypt’s top two generals might signify the beginning of a decline in the political role of the army.

“Morsi's coup against SCAF: The hows and the whys”
Experts say the Presidents’ move against Egypt’s top army officers was a result of disgruntlement of younger officers who saw the leadership as too involved in politics.

“No Reason to Celebrate, It's Just Another Coup”
Wael Eskandar says the retirement of Sami Annan and Mohamed Tantawi is not a revolutionary move.

“Government earmarks LE1 bn for Sinai development”
After Sinai attacks, government allocates funds for a special development effort in the peninsula.

“Democracy, Backward March!”
Nagwa Emad argues against retaining the constitutional clause allocating 50% of seats in parliament to workers and farmers.

“VoxBox: Egypt Tantawi's Ouster”
Al-Monitor asks Egyptians in the street for their opinion on President Morsi’s recent move to retire the country’s top two generals.

“Egypt's New Leader Struggles To Fulfill Big Promises”
NPR peeks into a poor family’s home in Egypt to see just how challenging President Morsi’s task is.

“Morsi’s Next Steps”
Stephen Glain says President Morsi needs to leverage his advantage he gained after purging military leadership.

“Predictions on the age of incompetence”
Zeyad Mourad’s predictions on what happens next with SCAF and the Muslim Brotherhood.

In Arabic:

“بلاغ جديد من «الحرية والعدالة» يتهم 3 رؤساء تحرير بـ«إهانة الرئيس وإثارة الفتن»”
Freedom and Justice Party files a new complaint against editors of Egyptian publications accusing them of insulting the President.

“مرسي: منح طنطاوي قلادة النيل لن يمنع محاكمته”
Egyptian President says the awarding of honors to Field Marshall Tantawi does not absolve him of being liable to legal prosecution.

"بوابة الأهرام" ترصد جنرالات "العسكرى" الذين اختفوا من خريطة المجلس خلال عام ونصف”
With the recent retirements of two generals, the number of replaced SCAF officers reaches 7.

“فاطمة رمضان - ناشطة عمالية ويسارية وعضوة المكتب التنفيذي للاتحاد المصري للنقابات المستقلة - في حوار مفتوح مع القارئات والقراء حول: العمال والنقابات، والتحالف مع القوى الثورية في انتفاضات وثورات العالم العربي، مصر نموذجا.”
Fatma Ramadan, a labor activist and member of the executive office of the Egyptian Federation of Independent Trade Unions, shares her thoughts on labor, trade unions, and the revolutionary forces.

“إسرائيل تطالب مصر بسحب أسلحتها الثقيلة التى أدخلتها سيناء خلافًا للملحق العسكرى لـ"كامب ديفيد"”
Israel asks Egypt to withdraw heavy weapons from the border, citing Camp David accords.

“فرحة صادقة ومخاوف مشروعة”
Alaa Al-Aswany criticizes the recent political moves of the Muslim Brotherhood aiming at consolidating their power and eliminating public criticism by clamping down on media.

“انقلاب مرسي الناعم جدا”
Abd El-Bari Atwan says President Morsi has performed a soft coup which has made him a stronger head of state.

Recent Jadaliyya articles on Egypt:

مرسي والانقلاب والثورة: قراءة بين الأسطر الحمراء
Hesham Sallam says the retirement of Mohamed Tantawi and Sami Anan is not a civilian coup against the military.

عن الحلم الاجتماعي والأمن والفساد
Aly El Raggal rereads Utopia by Ahmed Khaled Tawfiq in the current Egyptian socio-political and economic situation.

Morsy, the Coup and the Revolution: Reading between the Red Lines
The English version of Hesham Sallam’s article on the recent retirement of top military generals.

الرئيس مرسي وأخلاقيات النظافة
Khaled Fahmy comments on the current campaign for “Cleaning the nation” by examining old documents on public health in the Khedives’ era. 

Amir Baradaran, Marry Me to the End of Love. Cite internationale des Artes, Paris, France, 23-30 June 2012. Curated by Feri Daftari.

Not often is a performance as variegated in its political significance, or as generous to critical exposition, as Amir Baradaran's recent interactive piece, Marry Me to the End of Love. Inserting itself into current debates surrounding the politics of marriage and Islam in relation to Western modernity, as well as the origin and viability of aesthetic politics, the performance allows us to consider art not merely in its capacity to engage political debate, but also in its capacity to reconfigure the very terms on which such debate is premised.

Queering Marriage

At the Cite interntionale des Arts in Paris in June, Baradaran performed multiple short-term marriages with as many willing participants as possible, doing so according to the Shi'a notion of Mut’ah, or marriage for pleasure. Mut’ah, unlike traditional marriage, is both terminal and premised exclusively on the derivation of pleasure. At the outset, Baradaran's proposal to publicly perform Mut’ah intensifies those elements of Mut’ah that oppose traditional marriage. As he enters multiple short-term relationships under the sign of "marriage," he divorces the expression from its restrictive content, which commands non-terminal heterosexual monogamy and collapses or excludes desires that do not readily fit its accepted teleology. As a result, the expression "marriage" loses its prescriptive force, ceasing to command anything in particular. As such, Baradaran challenges not only marriage understood as an institution for heterosexuals, but also so-called progressive movements calling for "gay marriage."

Those movements, Baradaran and others argue, only work within the terms of heteronormativity in offering recognition to homosexual desire, leaving unchallenged the imbrication of monogamy and non-terminality with a specifically heterosexual history. President Obama's endorsement of gay marriage earlier this year is a telling example. His endorsement was articulated to the particularly heteronormative attributes of those homosexuals around him, explaining his decision by citing “members of my own staff who are in incredibly committed monogamous relationships, same-sex relationships, who are raising kids together.” As such, Obama indicates that difference in sexual orientation is endorsable only when collapsed into the terms of heteronomartive marriage, delegitimizing other existing or potential forms of coupling by denying them the possibility of legal recognition.

Thus, propelled by questions similar in tone to those that first animated queer theory, Baradaran's performance asks: What new forms of attachment, belonging, and kinship can we conceive, and consequently make legible socially and legally, that reside outside of marriage and its particular history? How does such conceptualization extend social and legal recognition to those who are not accommodated by, or those who suffer at the expense of, traditional marriage configurations? 

Resistance in the Multiplication of Pleasure

Baradaran proposes another challenge to normative forms of coupling, applying less to marriage in particular than to dominant distributions of pleasure across the body. In his performance, the multiple short-term marriages codify "pleasure" differently each time, focusing on sites of the body from which pleasure is not usually derived or understood as derivable; in some marriages, for instance, he simply touches elbows with a partner. While largely symbolic, rendering those acts as "pleasurable" according to Mut’ah destabilizes the centrality of genitalia to normative taxonomies of what counts and does not count as pleasurable.

More specifically, such destabilization entirely elides the reproductive capacity attributed to the act that monopolizes legitimate pleasure in the modern regime of sexuality (and to which conservatives take recourse in arguing for the "sanctity" of marriage): heterosexual coitus. Such elision reveals the potential for the non-genital zones of the body to serve as sites from which pleasure may be derived in ways that accommodate those for whom normative taxonomies, as well as their effects on social and legal recognition, are injurious. Following Michel Foucault's project in The History of Sexuality, parts of which trace means of cultivating new bodily pleasures that resist normative taxonomies in favor of singular and local ones, Baradaran does not pre-determine what forms of pleasure are to be derived from each marriage, allowing each marriage to produce its own forms. In so doing, he not only subsumes the zones of the body otherwise rendered only partially sexual, such as the lips—what Freud termed erotogenic zones—but also comes to symbolically include the potential for any bodily zone to serve as a site for pleasure. Furthermore, extending the same Foucauldian gesture to the realm of his participants, Baradaran does not pre-determine with whom a marriage is possible, entering marriages "with participants of all genders, ages, and orientations."

Creative Destruction

The multiplication of pleasure takes an additional political significance when understood as positioned within the structures of neoliberalism that work towards reducing pleasure to a correlative exchange value. In symbolically proposing the non-genital and, in some cases, non-erotogenic zones of the body as sites of pleasure, Baradaran unsubscribes from certain models of consumption premised on the derivation of pleasure exclusively from those genital and erotogenic zones on which capitalist forces are dependent for profit, thereby suspending the function of those models within the locale of his performance.

Historically, however, the political significance of such unsubscription is temporally confined: as unsubscribing produces new pleasures that resist market assimilation, it may also be understood as paving the way for capitalist forces to extract value from those new pleasures in the future, thereby opening up more for capitalism to territorialize. An example is the burgeoning of a "niche" pornography industry catered towards statistically marginal pleasures. It would remain inconclusive how and to what degree each newly produced pleasure is territorializable, assimilable, or reducible to an exchange value. Perhaps it is from such uncertainty that we may derive an anti-capitalist ethic, if we understand that, as each newly produced pleasure momentarily suspends the flow of capital, it jeopardizes capital’s ability to overcome its suspension.

As the conservative political scientist Joseph Schumpeter argued in influential works from the 1940s such as Capitalism, Socialism, and Democracy, capitalist economic development is premised on the devaluing and destruction of any presently operative economic order, which allows for the creation of a new order better suited for exponentially higher profit gain. While each successful cycle of “creative destruction” has historically enlarged the spatial boundaries and compressed the temporal turnover durations on which capitalism is dependent for expansion, Schumpeter cautioned that each cycle also has the potential to indefinitely replace capitalist structures with alternative ones in the vulnerable moment when capitalist structures are being destroyed. (Indeed, despite the argument's tension with his political commitments, Schumpeter argued that creative destruction would have social democracy replace capitalism before the end of the twentieth century.)

Following Schumpeter, we may re-articulate the term “creative” to conceptualize and create structures that resist, rather than aid, the structures of capitalism when the latter are most vulnerable. In the case of Baradaran’s performance, the multiplication of singular, presently unassimilable pleasures, as it momentarily suspends the flow of capital, also multiplies the amount and variety of the raw material that may work towards the creation of alternative structures that undertake such resistance. This is a strategy of "re-articulation" that social theorists like David Harvey and artists like Matthew Buckingham have begun thinking about in light of the recent financial crisis.

The Others of Empire

Bodily pleasure, as it partakes in the economic facet of power, also links the politics of sexuality to the makeup of the modern nation-state. In light of Baradaran's racial background, such links are amplified. The institution of marriage, with its premise in a particular regime of sexuality, figures historically in the consolidation of the modern nation-state. President Obama's endorsement of gay marriage, again, is telling. In addition to citing heteronormative couples as a reason for his endorsement, Obama cites and promotes the patriotism of “those [homosexual] soldiers or airmen or marines or sailors who are out there fighting on my behalf.” Significantly, those wars being fought by patriotic homosexuals on Obama’s behalf have led to the economic, social, and political ruin of Afghanistan and Iraq, where civilian casualties are numbered in the millions.

As Jasbir Puar has argued in Terrorist Assemblages, the incorporation of homosexuals into the modern nation-state as patriots renders them no longer queer, where queerness is originally understood as that which challenges the stability of Western self-identity, and, as a result, another queer is produced. Throughout the twentieth century, the non-reproductive homosexual was perceived as challenging the stability of heterosexuality and the nuclear family, both of which consolidated the modern nation-state. This was especially true during the deadly AIDS epidemic, when homosexuality was further perceived as challenging life itself, or the life of the (st)able consuming citizen integral to sustaining, among the other facets of Western self-identity, the flow of capital. At the close of the century, as homosexuals called for social and legal rights according to heteronormative terms, including the right to marriage, and received some of those rights, as well as roles to consolidate the modern nation-state (the most recent example of which is the repeal of “Don’t Ask Don’t Tell”), they ceased to be queer in the original sense of the term. (To be sure, however, there remain homosexuals in the Western world who are not assimilable in heteronormative terms, often because of their racial and/or gender queerness.)

As homosexuals became part of, rather than a threat to, Western self-identity, another queer was produced based on the new perceived threat to Western self-identity: the terrorist body. This resulted, more specifically, in the queering of Middle Eastern and South Asian bodies, which became perceived as terroristic; as sexually, psychologically, and corporeally perverse; and as deserving of death. As a result, those Middle Eastern and South Asian bodies became susceptible to otherwise irrational, unjustified, and excessive forms of discrimination, violence, and killing. This is in addition, as Judith Butler has demonstrated, to an astronomically lower standard for determining whether their lives are grievable. Furthermore, once the category of homosexual was incorporated into the modern nation-state, homosexuality, as the specifically Western codification of same-sex practices and relations, became a marker of modernity. The link between modernity and Western homosexuality thus produced, and indeed continues to produce, entire non-Western populations as homophobic and pre-modern—populations in which same-sex practices and relations are codified differently. Those populations, often constituted by the queered Middle Eastern and South Asian bodies, also became susceptible to Western military intervention, occupation, and violence—all under the guises of "modernization" and "democratization," which justify, as Puar has shown, American imperialism and exceptionalism, or, in the case of Israel, settler-colonialism.

In relation to this history, Baradaran's body is rendered impossible. Originally from Iran, Baradaran is racially queer, resembling the queered terrorist body against which the West has declared war. Yet Baradaran is also sexually queer, as someone whose sexual practices and relations are codified, at least in New York where he is based, in terms of homosexuality. Falling into both the categories of old queer and new queer, his body reveals the hypocrisy, if not the impossibility, of the Western project that seeks to simultaneously include the homosexual into folds of life and exclude the terrorist body. It asks, as the homonationalism it confronts trembles: What happens when a body is to be both included and excluded, saved and destroyed? When staged as an aesthetic event in a Western capital, Baradaran's body only intensifies the trembling, finally erupting the terms by which it is otherwise rendered impossible, as it erects new terms and possibilities.

(Non-)Imperial Critique

The imperial division by Western powers of Middle Eastern and South Asian territories into nation-states, as well as the neo-imperial imposition of the Western nuclear family in those nation-states, extends the reach of Baradaran's critique to those contexts. Yet, in addition to being critiqued for their unwitting imbrication with a modern regime of sexuality, those contexts, especially Shi'a majority countries such as Iran, have another relation to the performance. After all, Mut’ah marriage is derived from Shi'ism. While mostly prohibited today by Sunni Muslims and controversial in some Shi'a communities, it was legally promoted several times throughout the past twenty years in predominantly Shi'a countries such as Iran. Indeed, some Iranian officials, including former President Hashemi Rafsanjani, have accepted it as a solution to social problems resulting from so-called excessive sexual desire.  

Such promotions resonate with one of the founding reasons for Mut’ah in Islam before the division between Sunnism and Shi'ism, when many of the Prophet's companions (whose example is revered by Sunni Muslims today) practiced such marriages: it was argued that, in certain circumstances, traditional marriage of the non-terminal, monogamous type does not fully accommodate the consummation of sexual desires, and thus rather than have unaccommodated desires consummated through prohibited pre- or extra-marital sexual relations, those desires were given social and legal recognition when Mut’ah was allowed by the Prophet, and later inscribed into the structure of Shi’a law. As such, Baradaran's performance critiques contemporary social and legal orders (including those dealing with marriage) in Shi'a majority Iran, as it derives its critique from within Shi'ism.

While much so-called critique of Sunni or Shi'a Islam, as it originates from the West, is racist, Islamophobic, and/or premised on the furthering of camouflaged economic and political interests, Baradaran's performance seeks to bring into public consciousness Muslim practices that have been forgotten, bracketed or repressed—in some cases, precisely because of (the internalization of) Western modernity and critique. In doing so, he not only accentuates the presence of those practices (which are often rendered "pre-modern" by the West), thus resisting the imperial effects of forgetting, bracketing, and repressing, but also finds in those practices a certain value, one that allows, on the basis of a more accommodating ethic, for the reconfiguration of presently operative social and legal orders.

Aesthetic Politics

Rather than simply conceptualizing reconfiguration, Baradaran's performance partakes in reconfiguration itself. To borrow from Jacques Ranciere’s lexicon, it joins an aesthetic regime of art interested in altering rather than representing social and legal orders. It thus opposes the representative regime of art that has dominated art history. That regime, with its premise in Aristotelian mimesis, represents, without changing, presently operative and often inegalitarian social and legal orders, taking recourse to spectator passivity and rigid genre conventions. Understood as part of the aesthetic regime, Baradaran’s performance, as it breaks the spectator/actor boundary and the genres of art it consolidates, reconfigures the content of marriage, the possibilities of pleasure it allows, and the relationship between Islam and Muslim practice. Unlike performances within the representative regime that attempt to access a metaphysical artistic realm in order to represent some truth, Baradaran's performance resembles political action properly understood: in eliding the representative divide, it engages not some metaphysical artistic realm, but the very world of which it is a part.