In this interview with CCTV America  that aired on 16 December 2012, Jadaliyya Co-Editor Hesham Sallam argues that there is more to the conflict over Egypt's constitution than a spat between Islamists and secularists over the religious nature of the state and role of religion in public life. This is a battle over whether the new Egypt will fullfil the promise of the January 25 Revolution for greater freedom and social justice. The draft constitution under consideration, Sallam says, contains loopholes that could give the state undue power in regulating people's private lives and curtail civil liberties and freedom of speech. The document also contains articles that will render the military's non-democratic economic and political privileges above the reach of public and parliamentary accountability and oversight.

On 10 December 2012, Pakistan President Asif Ali Zardari announced that his government and UNESCO were establishing the “Malala Fund for Girls’ Education,” and that Pakistan would contribute ten million dollars. This fund’s namesake, Malala Yousufzai, is a young activist for girls’ education. She was shot and severely wounded on 9 October 2012 by Taliban-led armed thugs on her way to school in the Swat Valley in Northwest Pakistan. Given the marathon international media coverage of her story, Zardari’s jumping on the bandwagon illustrates how Malala has become the newest, youngest icon for the “War on Terror.” Even as the 15-year-old recovers from the shooting, she is being turned into a brand that packages “feminism” and “human rights” to be marketed for international and local consumption. 

The hawks of war have seized on Malala not only as the symbol of a cause to be championed, but also as a means of legitimizing their own policies and tactics. Her story is being appropriated in a master narrative of a just war between “good” and “evil,” replete with articles arguing for the moral warrant of drones, and casting hers as a lone voice in the “wilderness” where the patriarchal and fundamentalist Taliban holds sway. With the empathy and concern that Malala’s story evokes, the rates of return on this investment are high. 

I wonder whether Malala herself, a strong advocate for peace and conciliation, would approve of the campaign marketing her wounds to advance militaristic politics.

Malala was a blogger for BBC Urdu, an advocate for girls’ education, and the subject of a New York Times documentary. The assassination attempt on the young activist appeared as an enforcement of a Taliban edict banning girls from going to school. Fortunately,Malala survived, was rescued, and was sent to the United Kingdom for treatment. Although she has now become an internationally symbolic reference for Taliban intolerance and the proxy war that rages in Northwest Pakistan, Malala is not the only young and innocent victim.

Communities across Northwest Pakistan have been in the cross-fire of US drones for years. According to the Bureau of Investigative Journalism (BIJ), from June 2004 through mid-September 2012, drone strikes killed between 2,562 and 3,325 people in Pakistan, of who between 474 and 881 were civilians, including 176 children. In 2012 alone, according to New America Fund statistics, between 212 and 336 people were killed in drone strikes. While the US government consistently claims that most of the dead were “militants,” in fact a high number were civilians. An authoritative study by researchers from Stanford and New York University law schools, Living under Drones, concludes that only one in fifty killed is a known or verifiable terrorist. The plausibility of these statistics is buttressed by evidence that the Obama administration under-reports civilian casualties by characterizing any military-age male killed as a “militant” unless posthumously exonerated.

Sadaullah Khan is one such military-age male, who lost both legs in a drone strike. This 15-year-old’s story is not as marketable as Malala’s for Pakistani politicians and the international media. He remembers, “I used to go to school…I thought I would become a doctor. After the drone strikes, I stopped going to school.” Malala also would have been another faceless statistic had she been killed or maimed by a US drone instead of by Taliban thugs. 

Samiullah Khan, a Waziristan-based reporter who encountered a strike on 16 September 2010, recounts his experience:

There was of course a drone up in the air – in that area they seem to be up 24 hours a day. About five minutes into the interview I heard a massive noise from an attack and all the glass in the house broke. I ran out, though the Taliban were urging me not to approach the site. I saw people crying “Help us, help us,” there was a huge fire. Since everyone in the [damaged] house was dead or injured, the only people who could help were other villagers or the Taliban I’d been interviewing. 

Many people were badly burned. We put three in my pick-up truck and took them to Miranshah town – doctors there told us they were unlikely to live, each having 90 per cent burns to his body. Back in Danda Darpakhel more people had come to the attack site to help with the rescue, thinking that the danger had now passed after 30 minutes. But the drones returned and fired again. If I had been there I would have been caught in that explosion. People there were killed, including two of my friends. They were good people. One was a student; the other ran a stall at the local bazaar. Neither was involved with the Taliban. 

Samiullah’s story indexes the drone policy of second-wave strikes targeting mourners and rescuers. According to Clive Stafford-Smith, a lawyer who founded the legal charity Reprieve, this policy of “double-tapping” is tantamount to targeting the Red Cross on battlefields. The voices and experiences of drone victims collected by activist organizations and investigative journalists bolster evidence that the very hawks of war who are now championing Malala are complicit in or supportive of actions that constitute war crimes. It is not surprising, therefore, that the seventy-nine young victims of the military’s Bajaur Operation of 2006 with ages ranging from 8 to 21—and whose names were documented in a rare compilation—were largely ignored, while Malala’s victimhood has evoked international concern.

Malala’s own voice is drowned out by this vociferous political gambit to tell and use her story. Her blog richly describes not only an interrupted education but a life encroached upon by war, shelling, bombings, and battles. She is equally accusatory of the military as she is of the Taliban. On 18 January 2012, three days after the Taliban issued its edict against the education of girls, Malala writes:

Our parents are also very scared. They told us they would not send us to school until or unless the Taliban themselves announce on the FM channel that girls can go to school. The army is also responsible for the disruption in our education. Today a boy from our locality went to school and he was told by the principal to go back home because a curfew was to be imposed soon. But when he reached home he came to know that there was no curfew, instead his school was closed down because the army was to move through the road near his school.

The Pakistan army has no qualms about commandeering schools as bases and battlefields. “Father told us that security forces have arrived at the boys’ and girls’ school in Haji Baba area,” she writes soon after. The Taliban were quick to react, and Maulana Shah Dauran, in Malala’s words, “warned that they would blow up those schools which are used by the security forces as security posts.” After a period of closures of both boys and girls schools because of turf wars between the army and the Taliban, Malala recounts that the Taliban lifted restrictions on girls’ primary education on 9 February. Unlike the media portrayal of Swat culture as backward and patriarchal, or the portrayal of the US-Pakistan war as a secular and democratic attempt to rescue victims like Malala, she blogs about how her war-weary society is full of supporters of women’s education and networks of educators who negotiate with the Taliban and improvise to secure their students. 

Understanding these realities casts doubt on the portrayal that she was attacked for being a school-going 15-year-old girl. According to the Tehrik-e-Taliban Pakistan (TTP), Malala had long before acquired a pro-West role in the war as a protagonist in the US-made documentary and as a blogger. In a letter justifying the attempt to murder Malala, the Taliban argue that they charged her with their defamation: “Yousufzai was playing a vital role in bucking up the emotions” of Pakistan's military and government “and was inviting Muslims to hate mujahideen.” Whereas the Taliban oppose coeducation and a secular education system, they “tried to bring the education system for both boys and girls under Shariah.” “If anyone thinks that Malala is targeted because of education, that's absolutely wrong and is propaganda by media,” the letter contends. “Malala is targeted because of her pioneering role in preaching secularism and so-called enlightened moderation.” 

In decontextualizing the attack against Malala, her hawkish, secular, and feminist champions participate in the production of amnesia about the devastating war and ignore the countless other young girls and boys who have been victims. As Mahmood Mamdani eloquently writes, “the point about ideological language, whether its idiom is religious or secular, is that it justifies the use of power with impunity. In the contest for power, each has eyes for none but the other.” 

It was exactly a year ago that Nashwa Abdel-Tawab, in a beige veil, red jacket and black long dress, was on the screens of every news channel across the country and the Arab world, the spouse of Emad Effat, a Muslim cleric who broke the walls of the all-but-state-controlled oldest Muslim university, Al-Azhar, to reach out to the people and whose faith, uncompromising as it was, inspired a passion for the pursuit of fairness, justice, egalitarianism and above all compassion.

Today, Nashwa, a colleague journalist and friend at Al-Ahram Weekly’s Sports page, is holding on exactly as she was when she told the world that her husband was assassinated during a demonstration held before the offices of the prime minister to demand justice for the martyrs of the January 25 Revolution and the fulfillment of its key demands: bread, liberty and dignity.

Nashwa is still hurting as deeply as she was when this beloved Muslim cleric of the Egyptian revolutionaries — Muslims well as Copts, and rich like poor — was buried at the end of a long funeral that started with prayers at the heart of Al-Azhar Mosque, winding down into Old Cairo with thousands of Egyptians chanting slogans reiterating popular commitment to keep the call of the revolution alive until the people’s demands are met.

“It has been a year, but those who killed Emad Effat have not been brought to justice — in fact they have never been identified,” laments Nashwa. Hurt but determined to pursue the truth, “as part of the pursuit of justice,” Nashwa is as exacting as Emad used to be in expressing his views: “Emad Effat was killed when the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces (SCAF) was in office … The investigations over the assassination are “deliberately” mediocre … The state is not keen to uncover the truth, but rather to hide it … and President Mohamed Morsi is not free from the guilt, given that he made no effort to prompt adequate and overdue investigations,“ while offering a safe exit for the heads of SCAF.

Nashwa is no longer holding out hope that investigations would be properly conducted or that the killers “not just of Emad Effat but of all the other martyrs who have died for — before, during and after — the revolution” would be brought to justice.

“The truth will be revealed one day, sooner or later. One day, God will make us all see what exactly happened and we will know those who killed Emad Effat; those who instigated the killing and those who stand behind them,” said Nashwa with faith.

This woman in her early forties, who lost a husband in his early fifties after years of love-driven marriage, and who has a son who was less than one year old when his father died, is not short on resolve to keep the cause of her deceased husband living. The cause of Emad Effat, she insists, is not the narrow revelation of "who or even what killed Emad Effat” but rather “the call of truth and justice for which he lived and died.”

For Emad Effat, as Nashwa would always say, seconded by all those who knew him, the call of truth and justice was about small and big things alike. It was, she said, as much about compassionately looking after a bed-ridden sister as passionately calling on demonstrators in Tahrir Square to keep their faith in the hardest of moments.

The call of truth and justice for Emad Effat, a cleric who went to the demonstrations in jeans and a t-shirt, was about looking inside and not on the surface. “He used to look with enormous admiration at the young men and women who took to Tahrir Square (during the January 25 Revolution and beyond) to defend fairness and egalitarianism — he looked at their hearts and not at their clothes, and he admired their faith and dedication,” she said.

Softly-spoken, almost shy, and kind as he was, Emad Effat never hesitated from taking a firm and uncompromising stance if he saw unfairness being done. “And it did not matter who was being unfair to who — he would always speak up against unfairness,” she said.

Indeed, Nashwa added, Emad would have been equally and firmly critical of Islamist groups in power crossing the line of fairness and justice.

Nashwa is very much in love with a husband that she abruptly lost and is still much inspired by the man whose faith prompted him to learn about religion and to share what he learned. She talks about Emad as if he was still here. In many ways, he is.

[Published in partnership with Ahram Online.]

[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.]  

“Egypt's constitutional referendum: First round results”
The results of the first ten governorates that voted on the constitutional referendum.

“Analysis of Round 1 of December 2012 Constitutional Referendum”
Based on results from the previous two elections, round two of the constitutional referendum is less favorable for a “No” vote.

“Brotherhood defends referendum vote from reports of irregularities”
The Muslim Brotherhood responds to accusations of the opposition and human rights NGOs of an “unfair” first round of the constitutional referendum.

“Egypt votes on constitution”
The governorates of Cairo, Alexandria, Daqahleya, Qaliubiya, Sharqeya, Assiut, Sohag, Aswan, North and South Sinai vote in the first round of the referendum.                  

“Supreme Constitutional Court besieged again”
Islamist supporters prevent head of the Constitutional Court to enter the building, but FJP and Salafist Front Party deny having their members at the protest.

“Absent judges, attempts to direct voters among reported irregularities”
The Judges’ Club receives hundreds of complaints about voting violations during the first round of the constitutional referendum.

“Egypt's constitution poll to be held in two phases”
A presidential decree orders the constitutional referendum to be held in two phases on 15 and 22 December.

“Egypt's Judges Club to refrain from supervising constitutional poll”
After refusal of majority of judges to supervise the referendum, the Judges’ Club announces its decision formally.

“State Council Judges' Club to oversee referendum with preconditions”
Egyptian Administrative State Council's Judges Club agrees to oversee the referendum if ongoing sit-in by supporters of President Mohamed Morsi in front of the High Constitutional Court stops.

“Attorney general releases damning account of protest detentions”
Prosecutor General reverses decision to remove a prosecutor from the investigations of the Presidential Palace clashes.

“Egypt prosecutor orders probe in opposition leaders’ ‘treason’ case”
The Prosecutor General starts investigation into a lawsuit against Amr Moussa, Mohammed ElBaradei and Hamdeen Sabbahi for high treason.

“Conflicting narratives emerge on new prosecutor general's past”
Some speculate that the new Prosecutor General might have been involved in court cases against protesters in Bahrain.

“In another blow to Morsy, court does not recognize prosecutor general”
The Azbakiya Misdemeanor Court refuses to accept a court case referred to by the new Prosecutor General.

“Islamists escalate media city sit-in”
Pro-Morsi protests in front of the media city continue into the fourth day as the sit-in consolidates.

“Remembering Emad Effat”
Murdered preacher’s wife, Nashwa Abdel-Tawab, still mourns her husband.

“The Brothers and the Gulf”
Sultan Al Qassemi writes about the Muslim Brotherhood and the foreign policy split between Qatar on one hand and the UAE and Saudi Arabia on the other.

“To protect the revolution, overcome the false secular-Islamist divide”
Hamid Dabashi says President Morsi’s constitutional declaration follows the example of the Iranian clerics in attempting to hijack the revolution.

“Presidential spokesperson blames tax debacle on political tension”
Yasser Ali explains Mohamed Morsi’s reversal of his own decision to raise taxes on certain commodities with his desire to hold a public discussion about it.

“Military arrest powers was called for by SEC: Morsi spokesman”
According to presidential spokesman, the Supreme Electoral Commission called for the military to be given special powers of arrest for the period of the referendum.

“Egypt: Between a Rock and a Hard Place”
Richard Falk observes how attitudes and hopes of Egyptians have changed radically over the span of the past two years.

In Arabic:

“المتحدث باسم الحكومة الإسرائيلية يكذب بوابة «الحرية والعدالة»”
The spokesman of the Israeli government denies reports by the FJP website that he said Israel is dissatisfied with the result of the first round.

“مصطفى النجار: معركتنا هي الوصول لقرى مصر قبل المرحلة الثانية للاستفتاء”
Mostafa Al-Naggar criticizes the call to protest against the referendum and says the time before the second referendum has to be used to raise awareness in the villages.

“محمد بديع.. سنسجنك.. هذا ليس تهديدًا.. هذا وعد”
Ahmed Samir criticizes the Muslim Brotherhood’s response to the killing of protesters in front of the Presidential Palace.

“دستور بير السلّم”
Hamdi Qandil goes over the problematic articles of the draft constitution.

“أعضاء النيابة العامة يدعون إلى تعليق العمل لأجل غير مسمى حتى تنحي النائب العام”
Members of the General Prosecution decide to suspend work until the new Prosecutor General is removed.

“الحـــــــــــــوار الوطنـــــــى فى قطار الإسگندرية”
Girgis Fakry hops on the train to Alexandria to hear passengers’ thoughts on the constitutional referendum.

“تأجيل طعن العادلي على سجنه 12 عاما بتهمة غسيل الأموال”
The Cassation Court postpones its decision on Habib Al-Adly’s appeal of his 12-year prison sentence for graft.

“الجنح تعاقب ألبير صابر المتهم بازدراء الأديان بالسجن 3 سنوات”
Alber Saber, charged with contempt of religion, is sentenced to 3 years in prison.

Recent Jadaliyya articles on Egypt:

China Central Television Interview with Jadaliyya Co-Editor Hesham Sallam on Egyptian Constitutional Referendum
Jadaliyya’s Hesham Sallam says the current fight in the Egyptian society is not about the nature of the state, but about fulfilling the January 25 Revolution goals.

Morsi's Sins beyond the Constitution
Dina Amer interviews Egyptians from different walks of life about the constitution and concludes there is a general sense of alienation among them from politics.

ElBaradei’s Gandhi Moment?
Linda Herrera, Magdy Alabady, and Adel Iskandar compare Mohamed ElBaradei to Ghandi and elaborate on the former’s limitations as an opposition leader in Egypt.

The State of Egypt Today: Political Protests and Freedom of Press
An interview with Adel Iskander about the way recent events are affecting freedom of expression in Egypt.

من القاهرة الجميلة - الجزء الثالث
The third part of Amro Eletrebi’s piece on his experience during protests in Cairo.

ملف من الأرشيف: الشيخ إمام
From Jadaliyya’s new initiative with Lebanese newspaper “Al-Safir,” a profile of Egypt’s famous composer and singer Sheikh Imam.

[This is a roundup of news articles and other materials circulating on Occupation, Intervention, and Law and reflects a wide variety of opinions. It does not reflect the views of the O.I.L. Page Editors or of Jadaliyya. You may send your own recommendations for inclusion in each biweekly roundup to OIL@jadaliyya.com by Monday night of every other week]

News

"European Court Backs CIA Rendition Victim", Al Jazeera English
The European Court of Human Rights has ordered Macedonia to pay German citizen Khaled el-Masri $78,000 for arresting and handing him over to the US, finding that he was an innocent victim of the CIA's extraordinary rendition.

"UK Pays $3.5m to Settle Libya Rendition Claim", Al Jazeera English
Sami al Saadi, a Libyan opponent of Gadaffi forcibly sent to Libya in 2004, where he faced torture at the hands of the Gaddafi regime, has accepted a settlement of $3.5m from the United Kingdom for its role in his rendition.

"Susan Rice Withdraws as Candidate for Secretary of State", Karen DeYoung and Anne Gearan
UN Ambassador Susan Rice has withdrawn her name from consideration as a candidate for secretary of state, writing in her letter to President Obama officially withdrawing that her likely lengthy confirmation battle would be "distracting and disruptive" to the President's second term.

"Hamas Holds Rally in West Bank, in Sign of Thawing Palestinian Rift", Joel Greenberg
Hamas held their first permitted rally in the West Bank in five years on 13 December 2012, an event contributing to what Hamas supporters and Fatah leaders are describing as a "positive mood" for reconciliation efforts between the two factions.

"Court Urges Reroute of Planned West Bank Barrier", Reuters
Israel's High Court has given Israel's Defense Ministry 90 days to respond to a decision urging the rerouting of construction of a 500-metre section of the separation wall in the West Bank.  The sectioning question would run through the village of Battir and would allegedly disrupt agricultural activity in the village as well as a number of proposed World Heritage sites. 

"17-year-old Palestinian Killed on His Birthday by Israeli Soldier", Al-Haq
Muhammad Ziad al-Salayma, a seventeen year old living in Hebron, was shot and killed by an Israeli soldier while walking near Checkpoint 160 following an exchange of words; the precise circumstances of his death remain unclear.   

"Official: Iran, Nuclear Watchdog Group Deal Close", Chelsea J. Carter, Saskya Vandoorne
Shortly after the United States announcement of a new round of sanctions targeting Iranian companies and individuals allegedly contributing to Iran's nuclear program, the IAEA and Iran have reportedly concluded "constructive" talks towards an eventual goal of negotiation and IAEA access to a military complex where Iran has reportedly tested nuclear material. 

"Israel Will Withhold Palestinian Tax Revenues at Least Until March", Al Jazeera English
In response to the Palestinian statehood bid at the UN, Israel has announced its intention to withhold about $100 million generally used to pay public sector salaries in the Palestinian territories each month, claiming it plans to use the money to pay debts Palestinians owe to various Israeli utility corporations.

"Senate Panel Approves Findings Critical of Detainee Interrogations", Scott Shane
TheNew York Times reports the Senate has approved the "most comprehensive" and "highly critical" report to date on the CIA's detention and interrogation program of alleged al Qaeda combatants; in approving the report, the Senate has taken the first step in the political process of declassifying much of what is known about the CIA's post-9/11 torture practices.

"Josh Begley Tweets Entire History of U.S. Drone Attacks", Jake Heller
The Daily Beast covers the efforts of Josh Begley, the man behind the rejected "Drones + iPhone" application which mapped and sent notifications to users on new drone strikes in real time, to tweet every drone strike, beginning with the first known attack in 2002 in Yemen and concluding with the most recent strikes.  
 

Blogs

"Self Determination and the Syrian Conflict – Recognition of Syrian Opposition as Sole Legitimate Representative of the Syrian People: What Does this Mean and What Implications Does it Have?", Dapo Akande
Writing for EJIL' Talk! blog, Akande examines the United States and United Kingdom's recent recognition of the National Coalition for Syrian Revolutionary and Opposition Forces (NCS) as the "sole legitimate representative of the Syrian people" and asks, "what does it mean to recognize an entity as the legitimate representative of…[a] people?", and what are the legal consequences?

"Detention Law Challenge Fails", Lyle Denniston
Denniston of SCOTUSBlog examines the legal reasoning behind Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg's recent refusal to block enforcement of a law broadly enhancing the executive branch's authority to detain individuals thought to have provided support for terrorism.  

"Palestinian Statehood and the ICC", Jens David Ohlin
Ohlin examines recent academic debate in light of Palestine's recent upgrade in status at the UN over the extent to which International Criminal Court's holds jurisdiction over war crimes committed in the Palestinian Authority by Israel, concluding that one's take on the debate largely rests on their understanding of the extent to which ICC jurisdiction is meant to end "impunity for criminal conduct".  

"A Brief Reply on the Legal Bases for Intervention in Syria", Daniel Bethlehem
Bethlehem, responding on Opinio Juris to the blog's own Julian Ku's thoughts on the basis for a US intervention in Syria in the event Assad turns to chemical warfare, provides a number of legal frameworks for an action in Syria under the chemical warfare hypothetical, concluding that while a "focused Chapter VII authorization by the UN Security Council" would be the ideal outcome, it is far from the only legal option.
 

Commentary

"Rendition, Zero Dark Thirty and the Brutal Reality of Britain's Secret Services", Henry Porter
Henry Porter writes in The Observer writes of the upcoming film Zero Dark Thirty in the context of the debate surrounding its torture scenes and Sami al-Saadi's recent settlement with the UK over his subjection to extraordinary rendition, noting that for all the faults of its torture sequences, nothing in the film captures "the terrible effects of rendition and torture on the victims and their families" or "the hypocrisy of western governments that outsourced brutality" behind such policies.

"The War over Hagel is on", Philip Weiss
Weiss reports on the possibility of Chuck Hagel's appointment to Secretary of Defense, and the efforts of "neoconservatives at the Weekly Standard and the Republican Jewish Coalition" to portray Hagel, who has made statements in the past critical of the pro-Israel lobby, as anti-Semitic at worst or an "Israel-hater who would appease Iran" at best.

"Rendition Condemned", James Goldston
Goldston, Khaled el-Masri's representative in his recent victory before the European Court of Human Rights, writes in the New York Times' Opinion page that el-Masri's compensation for his ordeal under rendition provides the Obama administration with an opportunity to end the "absence of legal accountability" long present in counterterrorism efforts--something he suggests might be accomplished by establishing a commission that would investigate and acknowledge the wrongs done to el-Masri and others.

"The Future of International Law and Human Rights: An Interview with Richard Falk", Cihan Aksan, Jon Bailes
Richard Falk, interviewed for Counterpunch, discusses Western hegemony over international law, the legal basis of charging Donald Rumsfeld and other US state representatives with war crimes and torture charges, and the likelihood of US participation in the International Criminal Court.

"The Dirty Dozen: Israel's Racist Ringleaders", David Sheen
Writing for The Electronic Intifada, Sheen examines the racially charged statements of twelve Israeli public officials against sub-Saharan refugees seeking asylum in Israel, suggesting that hatred in Israeli society of African asylum-seekers suggests Israel's refusal to grant rights to Palestinians is "based on an ideology of racism towards people who are not Jewish
 

Reports

"Case of El-Masri v. The Former Yugoslav Republic of Macedonia: Judgment (pdf)", European Court of Human Rights
The ECHR's judgment in the case of Khaled el-Masri, ordering Macedonia to compensate the German citizen for its role in his capture and eventual extraordinary rendition at the hands of the United States.

Conferences

"International Criminal Law Research Forum"; 14 December 2012; John Marshall Law School, Chicago IL, Inquire for more information here.

On Jadaliyya

"A Separate Piece?: Gaza and the “No-State Solution”", Darryl Li

"A New Mohawk", Chavisa Woods

"On the Insignificance of Stevie Wonder", Mouin Rabbani

"No, Israel Does Not Have the Right to Self-Defense In International Law Against Occupied Palestinian Territory", Noura Erakat

"The Limits of International Law Legalese", Lama Abu Odeh

"Is Gaza Still Occupied and Why Does It Matter?", Lisa Hajjar

"A Tale of Two Interviews", Habib Battah

"O.I.L. Monthly Edition on Jadaliyya (November 2012)", O.I.L. Editors

"Themed Issue of International Review of the Red Cross: The Future of Humanitarian Action", Jadaliyya Reports

"In Honor of Titans", Mouin Rabbani

"Colonial Planning of My Grandfather’s Hilltop", Dana Erekat

"Atatürk and My Grandfather", Khaled Hroub

"European Court of Human Rights Judgment: El-Masri v. The Former Yugoslav Republic of Macedonia", Jadaliyya Reports

"Malala, Abandoned to the Hawks of War", Mehwash S. Ansari

As therapists, activists, and scholars who have worked with abused women, and conducted social anthropological studies on the killing of women in Palestinian society, we decided to respond to the article by Lila Abu-Lughod and Maya Mikdashi, “Tradition and the Anti-Politics Machine: DAM Seduced by the ‘Honor Crime.’” They reiterate—as our own interventions, activism, and studies have found—that the killing of women cannot be divorced from the realm of the political. However, in reading the reactions and comments, such as those that ask for the view within Palestine, we felt compelled to share with readers our analyses and activist work, and to speak up. 

We have much respect for DAM’s work and contribution, and we want to stress that both DAM and Abu-Lughod and Mikdashi are making clear interventions in addressing the criminalization and politicization of Palestinian women by their family members. Violence against women is a complex political, moral, and ethical issue, but the burning questions we face in our everyday work are how to address and respond to violence against Palestinian women inside the Jewish state. How do we portray the killing of the colonized woman by the colonized man? And who profits from such criminality? 

Naming the Problem 

For over ten years, Palestinian feminists have insisted on using the term of “femicide,” or qatl al-nisa’ and not “honor crimes” so as to refuse legitimization and justifications that bestow “honor” on killers and abusers. The concept of femicide in Palestine (including in the West Bank and Gaza Strip) was first invoked by Shalhoub-Kevorkian after the establishment of the first hotline for women in East Jerusalem and the West Bank during the late 1990’s. The term has allowed us as feminist supporters and legal activists to work with family members who can be of help to women who have suffered from violence, to activate potential resources, and to mobilize internal familial rejection of the crime of killing one’s sister, mother, or other female relative. Challenging the language used by oppressors inside and outside the family can draw people together. 

As feminist activists, we believe that language and naming have consequences. One reason we resist the use of “honor crime” is that every time a Palestinian female is killed, minutes after the murder and even before conducting any kind of investigation, the Israeli police and media announce it as based on “family honor.” The Israeli system’s use of this term becomes a tool to culturalize and dismiss the gravity of killing Palestinian women. Culturalization not only lifts the responsibility from the criminal justice system to protect abused women, but also allows the Israeli system to position itself as superior, as belonging to a more “modern” and “advanced” culture. Scholars of colonialism remind us that colonizers will make any effort to destroy and fragment the internal cohesion and social structure of the colonized. Internal violence is an optimal way to destroy the “collective consciousness” of the colonized, keep them far from requesting freedom or resisting their colonization. 
 

Activating and Maneuvering Internal Resources

Our work in colonized Palestinian society has taught us that within the Israeli context, femicide is structured by a complex interrelationship between informal Palestinian systems of control and the formal Israeli legal and welfare system. Informal social structures in the context of colonialism in the Jewish state, including systems of kinship, patriarchy, and religious and traditional tribal systems, play a role in defining the physical and social boundaries within which female and male individuals are able to move and act. These structures regulate social behavior, roles, responsibilities, and relations within Palestinian society, enforcing social norms and codes that define and delimit mobility, choice of spouse, type and level of education, dress, profession, and sexual behavior. In a context of constant political attacks, fragmentation of communities and families, violence against the individual and the land, and constant uncertainty, these informal systems fluctuate between being systems that preserve the society’s safety, internal security, and cohesion, and systems that reach for power under conditions of complete powerlessness, making use of women’s living and dead bodies. 

As we have tried to intervene and engage with abused women, we have come to understand that the positive aims of the informal system of social control are to fight for life, capitalizing on values such as family ties and support, and other forms of Palestinian local solidarity, to preserve the social fabric. But, this same informal system gets confused when internal male violence against women occurs. In some cases, the informal system plays a role in preventing the killing of women victims of violence. However, the record is mixed. Many informal enforcers of social norms (teachers, clergy, and friends) and family members who choose to protect and advocate the needs of victims of abuse are not taken seriously. They are rejected, excluded, and even attacked by the Israeli welfare and criminal justice systems. In other cases, the Israeli police contact internal notables known to them to seek their help. The imposition of such notables who are not the victim’s choice sometimes exacerbates the already complex situation: it challenges the male abuser by another powerful male who is connected to the police. 

The police’s mode of work empowers existing patriarchal systems. As one Israeli police officer explained: “We help them, and empower them, so they always come back to us, and we call them and get all information needed.” The police award certain men the title of “Mechobadim,” the “honorable” or the “notables” and consult them when abused women call for police help (see Shalhoub-Kevorkian and Erez 2002). In more than one case, a woman was killed precisely because she was given by force back to her family by such “notables” and/or because she went to ask help from the police. 

In other cases, when the welfare workers or the police do not have local brokers or “notables,” they refuse the internal interventions requested by women victims of abuse. The Israeli system’s refusal to cooperate with an aunt and uncle who were ready to support their niece, or to agree to call a teacher that the victim indicated she trusted, or to look into the readiness of a friend and a sister to host their relative, resulted in an attempted suicide by one young woman and a three-day disappearance by another (which worsened the situation and led to the young woman needing to stay in a shelter). When another victim preferred to go home rather than to a shelter, with the stigma attached to it, “trained/professional” helpers informed her that she would lose official support. She said, “They threatened to get a court order and put me by force into the shelter.” Abused women we worked with, interviewed, and supported described how, when they tried to ask for help from the Israeli police, officers were not only uninterested in their victimization but took advantage of their vulnerability by sexually harassing them, neglecting them, or ridiculing them. 

Israeli officials turn to the patriarchal and masculine informal system to “help” “protect” and “prevent” the killing of women. Yet it is Israel’s ongoing control over the Palestinian minority that has in so many ways coopted, manipulated, weakened, and selectively strengthened these particular informal structures. If we do want to think about the role of social norms or culture in femicide, we must ask how some local men’s desire to become “keepers of norms” and “defenders of social values” might be linked to the political context in which all other values, humane norms, and acknowledged rights to a safe home/land have been silenced. 

The problem with the formal system is also complicated. As most polls show, Palestinians do not trust the Israeli system, and the police are the most distrusted government agency. As in many other colonial contexts, the Palestinian minority in Israel has come under the colonizing power’s laws and legal institutions. It is important to acknowledge that Palestinian women have and continue to resist prevailing relations of power, whether Israeli colonization, Palestinian traditional rule, or the patriarchal structures inherent in both (Shalhoub-Kevorkian, 2004), but power is still inscribed on the Palestinian body, and femicide victims are no exception.
 

Activism

The most recent initiative of Palestinian feminist activists is a committee called “The Committee for Resisting Women’s Killing.” It is a coalition of Palestinian NGO’s working to develop a social-political agenda to prevent women killing. In addition, the Gender Studies Program at MADA Al-Carmel (Arab Center for Applied Social Research) held a major event on 28 November 2012 to focus on the complexity of the Palestinian context within the Israeli state. The charge was to consider the “interrelationship between the social and the political” and we discussed in detail the various methods of “haunting” Palestinian women victims of abuse in the hope of also haunting Palestinian men. The discussions among social workers, young women, and young men pointed out that the existing legal and welfare system are tools for oppression and explored how culuralization traps society, curbs its mobilization, and supports the Israeli colonial logic of erasing the Palestinian by the Palestinian. 

In addition, WAVO (Women against Violence Organization) held a major event on 12 December: a public court and hearing to address the negligence of Palestinian society and both the formal and informal systems in curbing such criminal acts. The activity allowed the speakers and the audience to discuss the state’s role in manipulating women’s dead bodies. We realized that although the Palestinian community is about twenty percent of the total population, there are only four women police investigators who speak Arabic, the language that abused Palestinian women speak. WAVO’s activity also discussed the failure of the welfare departments, the police system, the prosecutor, and state funders to provide support for abused women. Experts looked at the state’s discriminatory budgets and opened up a heated discussion regarding the political/Zionist motive behind the privatization of shelters and other related services for abused women. 

The welfare system is directed by policies embedded in and affected by the Jewishness of the state and its Zionist ideology. In the welfare system, the allocation of posts and resources are controlled by the ministry of finance; and those who “supervise” the Palestinian workers who are “protectors” of abused Palestinian women are Jewish superiors. Welfare departments in Palestinian localities complain of the lack of social workers, the heavy case loads, and the inaccessibility and unsuitability of existing services. The police system does more than culturalize and orientalize; it inscribes its power over women’s living and dead bodies while playing the game of divide and rule. The police reproduce patriarchy by giving power to men and trade off women's lives and safety in return for men's collaboration. They offer men guns and weapons, the same weapons used to kill women. 

Our arguments here are built on research we conducted in Ramleh City in Israel between 2007 and 2010. We chose Ramleh because ten women were killed there and in Lydda over the last six years. In Al-Jawareesh neighborhood in Ramleh, ten women were killed between 2000 and 2008. Our findings reveal that the Israeli state system is playing a crucial role in reproducing the killing of women through its legal formal system by empowering of the informal-social-patriarchal system that includes mukhtars (leaders of extended families), clergymen, and police brokers. We found that when a woman is threatened by one of her family members, she is taken, sometimes by force, to a shelter to “protect” her. We found that in addition to being under the threat of death and being excluded as a Palestinian and as a woman, these females are excluded for the third time to a shelter. Women victims viewed shelters as another prison. 

Al-Badeel, a women’s rights organization, provided the Ramleh police department with a list of women who had received death threats from family members and who were not under police protection (Touma-Sliman, 2005); no one was arrested. In most of the cases, even when the murderers are known to the police, the cases are closed because the police claim “lack of evidence.” In the case of Hamdeh Abu-Ganem a young woman killed by her brother in 2007, her mother and another woman from the family testified against the brother. Despite their testimonies, the Tel Aviv District Court delivered a verdict of not guilty of the crime of murder, finding him guilty only of the lesser charge of being an accomplice (Zinger-Heruti, 2008). This case is one of many in which murderers received light sentence or continued their lives as if they had not murdered a woman. According to our findings and interviewees, women do not trust either the formal and informal systems. As Israeli formal institutions neglect their responsibilities, the dominated, unemployed, and excluded men assert their power over the weakest group of the patriarchal hierarchy--women.

A New Proposed Law 

A new proposed law was submitted to the Ministry of Judicial Affairs requesting harsher punishment for Palestinian men who kill their women relatives on an “honor basis.” The proposed law, put forward by Professor Mote Kreminitzer from Hebrew University Law School, tries to “save” Palestinian women from Palestinian men. The proposed law fails (by omission or commission) to address victims' needs when most needed. It will do nothing for the women victims when they are alive but is designed to punish their abusers once the women are dead. Law here is an additional tool for oppression. If we add to all we have described the fact that all forms used in the Israeli welfare, police, and health system are written in Hebrew, as are all laws, regulations, and court forms, and that most of the “service providers” are either Jewish or Israelized, we see that Palestinian women are left with no address to redress. 

Colonialism is empowering killers and sustaining internal crimes through bureaucratic and legal means. Does it hope to erase and destroy the Palestinian minority in its homeland? In both of the meetings we describe, the question raised for us was: Who benefits from violence against women? Who benefits from femicide?

---------------

Citations

Shalhoub-Kevorkian, N. and Erez, E. (2002) “Integrating a Victim Voice in Community Policing: A Feminist Critique” International Review of Victimology, 9(2): 113-135.

Shalhoub-Kevorkian, N. (2004). Racism, militarization and policing: police reactions to violence against Palestinian women in Israel. Social Identities, 10, 171-193.

Shalhoub-Kevorkian, N. (2009). Militarization and Violence against Women in Conflict Zones in the Middle East: A Palestinian Case Study. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. 

Touma-Sliman, A. (2005). Culture, national minority and the state: working against the “crime of family honor” within the Palestinian community in Israel. In L. Welchman and S. Hossain (Eds.), Honor: Crimes, Paradigms, and violence against women (pp. 181-198). London & New York: Zed Books.

Zinger-Heruti, R. (2008). 16 years for being involved in killing his sister on the ground of [family honor]. Haaretz, 3 March.

This is a selection of what you might have missed on Jadaliyya last week. It also includes a list of the most read articles.  Progressively, we will be featuring more content on our "Last Week on Jadaliyya" series.

• Morsi Past the Point of No Return
• "من المآسي المضاعفة للنزوح:فتيات سوريات للزواج "بثمن بخس
• Colonial Planning of My Grandfather’s Hilltop
• New Texts Out Now: Laleh Khalili, Time in the Shadows: Confinement in Counterinsurgencies
• A Nation of Pain and Suffering: Syria (Part 2)
• ElBaradei’s Gandhi Moment?
• A Nation of Pain and Suffering: Syria (Part 1)
• A Nation of Pain and Suffering: Syria (Part 3)
• ملف من الأرشيف: الشيخ إمام
• الضحك في الزمن المظلم: مقابلة مع ممدوح حمادة

• Malala, Abandoned to the Hawks of War
• Politics After Abdessalam Yassine
• Morsi's Sins beyond the Constitution
• Reports Roundup (December 15)
• European Court of Human Rights Judgment: El-Masri v. The Former Yugoslav Republic of Macedonia
• مقابلة مع الروائية رجاء عالم
• The Complexities of the Keystone XL Oil Pipeline
• عن واشنطن والائتلاف والنصرة
• ElBaradei’s Gandhi Moment?
• The State of Egypt Today: Political Protests and Freedom of Press
• On the Margins Media Roundup (December)
• الحركة المثلية في فلسطين ومقارعة الخطاب الإسرائيلي
• كتاب: أمراء وسماسرة وبيروقراطيون: النفط والدولة في السعودية
• Maghreb Media Roundup (December 13)
• A Nation of Pain and Suffering: Syria (Part 3)
• Syria Media Roundup (December 13)
• Atatürk and My Grandfather
• Documenting Yemen's Injured South
• Mission to UAE Supports European Resolution Against Crackdown on Activists
• Demonstrations and Arrests for Bedoon Rights Activists in Kuwait (Video)
• من القاهرة الجميلة - الجزء الثالث
• New Texts Out Now: Laleh Khalili, Time in the Shadows: Confinement in Counterinsurgencies
• Colonial Planning of My Grandfather’s Hilltop
• Mosques Under Construction Re-Demolished by Authorities in Bahrain
• Letter to Members of EU and European Parliament Concerning Human Rights in Bahrain
• A Nation of Pain and Suffering: Syria (Part 2)
• Arabian Peninsula Media Roundup (December 11)
• ملف من الأرشيف: الشيخ إمام
• الضحك في الزمن المظلم: مقابلة مع ممدوح حمادة
• Last Week on Jadaliyya (Dec 3- 9)
• The People Want Reform… In Qatar, Too.
• Egypt Media Roundup (December 10)
• Art, Politics, and Critical Citizenry in Morocco: An Interview with Driss Ksikes
• In Honor of Titans

For those of us who have grown up Arab, Palestine is a constant presence. From childhood to adulthood, we hear about the Palestinian cause, from the news, from friends and family, from parents and grandparents, from school, from songs. Palestine is close to our hearts, while its reality is so far away. The land itself feels distant, despite its proximity; one can only dream of seeing it. 

If there is a small glimmer of light emerging from the Egyptian revolution, it is that the reality of Palestine may not be as far as it seems. As Israel executed  “Pillar of Cloud,” five hundred Egyptians crossed the Rafah border into Gaza carrying medical supplies and a message of solidarity. A few days later, a group of students from the American University in Cairo, the German University in Cairo, and a few other universities went to Gaza for the same reasons. 

Three main things struck me throughout the trip. One was the uncomfortable feeling of being a tourist. The second were my questions about Egyptian perceptions of Palestine and the Palestinian people. Lastly, I was taken with the spirit in Gaza after over a week of constant airstrikes. 

We got on the bus headed towards Gaza from Cairo at around 8:00 am on Thursday. We arrived Friday night. The trip took thirty-six hours.  It seemed, at certain points that the Egyptian authorities were deliberately delaying us. When we arrived at the Ismailia checkpoint, we were stopped for five hours. The authorities claimed that because there were “foreigners” among us, and a general lack of safety in Sinai, security forces needed to accompany us. These were not “orders” they assured us. The students were angry and blocked the road to Kobry el Salam. Eventually we were allowed to pass. It did not take long before we were stopped again for more “security reasons.” Once we finally began moving the security officers accompanying us took us to the Swiss Inn in Arish. We spent the night there. We got to the Rafah border the next morning 11:00 am. Again we had to wait six hours before we could make the final crossing. 

This amount of waiting and moving back and forth is miniscule compared to what Palestinians experience when they cross the Egyptian border as they attempt to exit the world’s largest open-air prison. Sadly, the January 25 Revolution has not changed these realities.

Emotions were high as we passed through the “Welcome to Palestine” sign and members of the Hamas government greeted us. They placed kafiyyas around our necks as we walked off the bus. They accompanied us throughout our stay. They acted as tour guides, arranging our schedules and events to the last minute—determining where we went, whom we would meet, and for how long. The generosity and warmth of the welcome and hospitality was unmistakable. But it was also hard to miss how controlled our “tourism” was. We saw what they wanted us to see. 

Although Hamas and Israel had reached a truce the day before, an Israeli missile had hit Rafah and killed two brothers the day we arrived. We went to their funeral in Rafah, not far from the Egyptian border. The two young men were Khaled and Ahmed Abed Abu Mor. One of them was our age, in his early twenties. The other was married and had a newborn. 

I had grown up on images of Palestinian women wailing and carrying their just orphaned babies. But these mothers, wives, and grandmothers were the ones consoling us. They read us Ahmed’s will which he had written when he was eighteen. Some among us took photographs, heightening the alienating feeling of tourism. We stayed for a brief ten minutes before we were rushed back on the bus. 

The next day we continued our “tour,” moving from Rafah to downtown Gaza. A man stood at the front of the bus and commented on the sites. We saw the aftermath of the Israeli airstrikes. The destroyed buildings, homes, and infrastructure dotted the road from Rafah to Gaza City. We saw Gaza’s agricultural land and its factories. We saw the murals of Yasser Arafat, Qassam Briagdes fighters, and the messages of resistance painted on what seemed every wall.  

We got off the bus for ten-minute intervals to see the remnants of buildings mutilated by Israeli missiles and airstrikes, including governmental buildings and the Cabinet of Ministers in Gaza City. We stopped at the Al Shifaa hospital, Gaza’s central hospital that received most of the patients during the attacks. The doctors spoke to us about their experiences. We heard one heartbreaking story of a doctor, Magdy Naem, whose child Abd El Rahman was killed in the assault. Dr. Magdy had to take his son to the morgue and immediately return to work in the emergency room. Some patients were still in the hospital but most of the injured cannot stay for prolonged periods, due to the lack of equipment and facilities. 

The one place that left the biggest impression on most of us was the Dalou family’s home. The Dalou grandfather, who had lost thirteen of his family members in one Israeli airstrike, spoke to us. He commented about the absurdity of his small grandchildren being “terrorists.” Walking around the rubble of what used to be a home was surreal; we could still see prayer rugs, kitchen utensils, and notebooks.  It felt crippling to see this in real life, and not just on AlJazeera. We stood next to the remains of what used to be a family’s home, helpless.

As Israeli aggression against Gaza was increasing, many Egyptians, mostly remnants or supporters of the old regime, feared that Palestinians would flee into Sinai and that Morsy would facilitate their permanent residence in Sinai. Rumors circulated that Morsy was issuing laws that would allow land in Sinai to be sold to Palestinians at cheaper rates. The Palestinians in Gaza laughed at these rumors and fears. They explained that they would never leave their homes in Gaza and go into Sinai. Staying on their land was a matter of principle, a matter of existence. 

Fears that Morsy’s relationship with Hamas would affect Egyptian National security also circulated in Egypt. These worries were shallow; Mosry’s position on the Gaza attacks was not after all that radical.  Before my trip, many Egyptian acquaintances commented that now was not the time for Gaza; Egypt should be our focus. It was as if by merely showing solidarity with Gaza we were somehow robbing Egypt. That logic is twisted; solidarity can only strengthen our resolve for a better Egypt.  

The lessons I will take away from this trip are many. But what struck me the most was the Palestinians’ high morale. They have not lost hope. Children came to the school we slept in and conducted their morning routines. They were smiling; they played, they sang the Palestinian national anthem, they went to their classes, they made jokes. The principle of the school showed us around and casually mentioned that their library had more books before it was bombed during “Operation Cast Lead” in 2008. It was strange to hear the words: bombing, airstrikes, martyrs, and resistance in everyday conversation. Life just seemed to go on, against the odds. 

As our time in Gaza came to its end, there was a clear consensus among us: this was definitely a trip worth making. What we hear and see on the news is only a small fraction of the reality in Gaza. Hopefully these trips between Gaza and Egypt will become more frequent in the near future. After all, Palestine is not as far away as it seems.

[Photos by Tanya Habjouqa. Text by Francesca Albanese.]

On 2 December 2012, in a cynically prompt move the day after Palestine’s successful bid for upgraded non-member observer state of the United Nations, Israel announced its plans to spearhead settlement expansion in the E1 area in the Jerusalem periphery. By constructing approximately three thousand five hundred new settler housing units in this area, Israel would fulfill the long harbored plan to connect the illegal settlements east of Jerusalem with Jerusalem itself, creating a large Jewish-only continuum between settlements such as Ma’ale Adumim and Jerusalem. This plan, in defiance of international law prohibiting the settlement of occupied territory and the acquisition of territory by force, would split the West Bank into two disconnected halves, and irrevocably separate it  from East Jerusalem. Implementation of the E1 plan would also involve forcibly removing the Palestinian herder communities, mainly Bedouin from the Jahalin tribe, living in the area.

In the implementation of this euphemistically labeled “relocation plan”, around two thousand-three hundred Bedouin living in the East Jerusalem periphery would be forced to move to a site next to the Abu Dis municipal garbage dump or, alternatively, to the Jericho area. The Bedouin refuse these plans and remain resolute in their intention to remain where they are.  They also insist on preserving their traditional culture. Bedouin ancestral lifestyle in Palestine has been continuously undermined throughout the last century by multiple counts of displacement that began with their expulsion from the Naqab desert (now in Israel) in 1948-49 at the hands of Zionist paramilitary forces. Since its military occupation began in 1967, Israel forcibly displaced various Bedouin communities from their homes several times.

Targeted Bedouin communities already face a dire humanitarian situation due to Israel’s prolonged military occupation and its related hardships. By refusing to grant any construction permits to these communities, Israel forces them to live in shacks, which lack basic amenities. These housing conditions stand in stark contrast with the luxurious homes belonging to government-backed settlers living atop confiscated Palestinian lands. Israeli military forces do not tolerate even the aluminum shacks that Bedouin communities use as makeshift homes. Consequently, Israeli forces routinely demolish Bedouin homes along with their animal shelters, water cisterns, as well as traditional collective ovens, thus further undermining the communities’ livelihoods.

Bedouin communities in this pursue a traditional way of life based on shepherding, even though their access to pastures and markets is limited. Access to health care and education is also a major struggle. For years, Bedouin children had to cross a busy highway and then walk or hitchhike the twenty-two kilometers to Jericho to get to the nearest school.

The separation Wall together with the associated system of movement restrictions imposed by Israel further hampers access to water, grazing land, fodder, markets and basic services essential to Bedouin survival. Additionally, ongoing settlement expansion and intensifying settler violence against these communities have caused tremendous distress to them, especially among the youth and the children. Violence, harassment, provocation and incitement by armed Israeli settlers, often with the complicity of the Israeli military, have become part of Bedouin childrens’ daily reality. In 2011, the UN Secretary General reported that between September 2010 to May 2011 settlers were responsible for five deaths (including three children) and more than two hundred and seventy cases of injury of Palestinians. Settlement expansion, settler violence, movement restrictions and destruction of agricultural livelihoods have all worked to displace these communities..[1] This, notwithstanding the fact that as an Occupying power, Israel has a legal obligation to protect Palestinian civilians at all times and to administer the territory for their benefit.

Palestinians in this area have heard of “relocation” rumors since as early as 2009. They knew that they would eventually be transferred to a site near the main Jerusalem dump. This site has been heavily criticized for being polluted and hazardous to human health. In the late nineties, Israeli authorities relocated some two hundred Bedouin families to the same area to facilitate the expansion of Ma’ale Adumim. This relocation has resulted in deteriorated health and living standards, loss of livelihood, and diminished tribal cohesion among those displaced communities. In light of Israel’s announcement to implement its settlement expansion, today an additional two thousand three hundred Palestinians, eighty percent of whom are Bedouin refugees, and sixty-six percent of whom are children, are poised to face a similar fate. 

These photographs by Tanya Habjouqa depict the tiny village of Khan Al-Ahmar, which is striving for its very survival. Khan Al-Ahmar is home to twenty-two Jahalin families and is located in the East Jerusalem periphery where steep mountain slopes plummet to the Jordan Valley and the Dead Sea. The Israeli settlement of Ma’ale Adumim dominates the hill above the village. Recently, the Jahalin in Khan Al-Ahmar built a primary school out of discarded tires, hay, and mud in the community’s yard. Israel swiftly responded by issuing demolition orders. In October 2012, Israel’s High Court of Justice ruled against the school destruction, but the community as a whole still faces forced displacement by the Israeli army. The Jahalin around Jerusalem are not the only Palestinians under threat of forced displacement. In July 2011, the Israeli Civil Administration (ICA) communicated its intention to ‘relocate’ Palestinian communities throughout Area C of the West Bank, where Israel retains full control over security and civil matters. If completed, this operation will result in the displacement of nearly twenty-seven thousand Palestinian herders, mainly Bedouin, from the Jerusalem periphery, the Jordan Valley and South Hebron Hills where they have lived over the past sixty years.

In 2011 the Bedouin in the Jerusalem periphery created a Protection Committee to resist the displacement threats against them and to coordinate their advocacy. In a new appeal launched on 6 December 2012, the Protection Committee urged the international community to stand by the threatened Bedouin communities and against the announced Israeli plan to relocate and further displace them. Their demands are firm. The Protection Committee reiterates that they will not move unless it is to return to their tribal territory of origin in the Negev, where they lived until expelled by Israel. Pending such return they demand to live in safety and dignity, to freely conduct their lives in accordance to their traditions, and to ensure an education for their children, free from fear and persecution.

[1] Secretary General Report on Israeli settlements in the Occupied Palestinian Territory, including East Jerusalem, and the occupied Syrian Golan, (16 September 2011), 3 and 12. UN-Doc. A/66/364.

Do not try to simplify what is going on in Syria. You will fail.

We also cannot yield to complexity.

So many of the discussions on Syria—especially those occurring outside Syria—are simply detached from the tragedy, including perhaps my own writings. For instance, for the first time after 15 years of extensively researching Syria’s politics and society, with multiple and often long visits per year, I spent the last two years writing (and agonizing) about Syria without having the opportunity to visit, mainly because I am told I am not welcome there (my last visit was in January 2011, when, incidentally, I wrote this post on the Tunisian uprising).

A case in point is the recent bombing of the Palestinian Yarmouk refugee camp in Damascus by regime jets. The outside debate/discussion is raging endlessly and insignificantly:  is it an attack on Palestinians that demonstrates that they were merely a card in the past, or is it an attack on Jabhat al-Nusrah [really? is this what the uprising has come to?] (or other opposition groups) who infiltrated and must be rooted out at all costs? Or is it just another instance where the regime facilitates/conducts the bombing/ravaging of a Palestinian refugee camp as in Tall al-Za`tar? But wasn’t the regime the main defender and protector of various Palestinian resistance groups historically? . . . Etc. The narrative about the role of Palestine and Palestinians as produced in meta-narratives becomes the lens through which an incident or a collection thereof are viewed and interpreted. Everything else about that camp, its diversity, and its varied history is relegated to the background.

Right and Wrong for the Wrong Reasons

The claims put forth by myself and the myriad of other Syrian analysts, including the “instant” and “sudden” analysts who keep popping up like popcorn from the oddest places (I found two in my bathroom closet), can be right or wrong, or conditionally so. But they might be on- or off-mark for the wrong reasons to the extent that one is divorced from the local context, and divorce comes in shades, from the cold calculating “methodist,” to the uninformed sympathizer, to gatekeepers of interests far removed from the well-being of Syria and Syrians. Yet, they all participate and play with equal enthusiasm. Syria is a game now, played by states, institutions, analysts, activists, journalists, bloggers, tweeters, and artists who are often only remotely connected to the real lives of real people enduring real conditions there. We produce snapshots of reality that are divorced from the cumulative history of pain and experience that have led to that reality. These snapshots become a reflection of observed people’s nature and eternal disposition not their circumstances, pragmatism, and dignity. We then monolithicize and essentialize them, and coalesce them into a single body of thoughts, terms, narratives, and/or paradigms that have been conjured up by analysts and politicians from times gone by. We finish the article or our tweet, save, send, close, and turn away. We can do that. But those living in Syria do not have that luxury. 

The Irrelevance of Meta-Narratives

Those living in Syria look at things differently. When they are exposed to the terms of debate outside Syria, they smile helplessly, disappointingly, and critically all at once, as though those on both sides of the debate that is happening outside Syria are talking about an imaginary thing, not about realities on the ground. People outside Syria are literally at each other’s throats discursively and physically, arguing over the prioritization of resistance to imperialism or resistance to dictatorship while most local Syrians are wondering about personal security, food, electricity, the safety of their family, and the possibility of dying altogether during the next round of clashes in their neighborhood. Most importantly from an analytical point of view, we erroneously assume that their preferences are stable, but they are not. They too change with circumstances, a perfectly rational behavior.

Thanks to the armed groups who have now perfected—and sometimes surpassed on individual counts—the perennial brutality of the regime, one is hard-pressed in Syria to find a cause or a foreseeable scenario to cling to. Under such conditions, daily matters reign supreme over meta-narratives that are not necessarily unimportant, but have become thoroughly irrelevant for most Syrians. Hence, that smile that many local Syrians draw on their face in the face of meta-narratives spewed by all of us on the other side—to which people click “like,” or not.

This physical detachment, however, does not automatically privilege the analysis of all insiders equitably. Some of the cruder analysis has come from inside Syria. And though such analysis can be discarded as such, it cannot be dismissed as a real expression of real matters, however flawed.

Those of us who have family, friends, and colleagues in Syria with whom we are in touch on a daily basis, and those of us who read Syria news coming out of everywhere and nowhere, know that the discussions inside Syria are far more visceral and real, where positions often reflect immediately consequential action, and where political trade-offs are not academic or theoretical: people die as a result of certain positions, political trade-offs can mean the difference between being able to provide for one’s family and not being able to put food on the table every night, or not being able to stay in one’s home that same night. 

The Triumph of Meta-Narratives

Yet, we continue to spar outside Syria. And we are winning unfortunately. The meta-narratives produced by various states, institutions, and individuals have become more important than what is happening in Syria. They have become more precious than the people on whose behalf we are presumably fighting. They have also emptied out the content of principle. Abstract principles—usually good otherwise—have triumphed over reality anew, while being disconnected from it. Syria is now produced wholesale mainly in the media, social media, and in the positions of grand powers that can purchase positions, enforce their narrative, or influence events, often by doing nothing. 

This does not mean that there is no politics in all this. The biggest losers from the destruction of Syria are Syrians themselves, and what Syria could have been. This latter part is important because it is a window into who might be the biggest winners: conservative Arab state, the United States, and Israel, all of whom want to avoid the potential of Syria could have been. Their preferred meta-narrative is winning inside Syria, but not yet in the region. This is the next battle, and it’s about resistance/imperialism, Islamist/secular, rich/poor, tyrant/opposition, patriarchy/feminism, but also about much more. One manifestation has already started in Egypt. That larger battle is inevitably coming, and the fall of the Syrian regime, and the other dictatorships to the east that are shielded externally, will be just the beginning. It will take time.

In the meantime, in Ziad Rahbani’s words, sung in part by Joseph Saqr in the early 1970s:

“ya nour `inayyah, rohna dahiyyah . . .
dahiyyati-l-harakah al-thawriyyah
ya nour ‘inayyah”

No truly representative translation possible except, “we have become the victims of the revolution.” Listen here or below.

To be continued.

 “هذا هو البديل الوحيد”، كم مرة سمعنا هذه الجملة منذ يناير ٢٠١١. ربما تكون مرة أو مرات مصحوبة بالأسف لأن الظروف لا تسمح بأكثر من ذلك ولأن الضرورة تفرض ما هو صعب: ليس أمامنا سوى توقيع قرض الصندوق، حتى وإن كان مشروطاً وإلا الإفلاس، يجب وقف الإضرابات العمالية وإلا انهارت البلد، لا يمكننا تطهير جهاز الدولة لأنه لا توجد كفاءات (وكأنه كان بأى شكل كفئاً)، لابد وأن نلعب الدورى العام حتى وإن كنا غير قادرين على تأمين حياة المتفرجين، لا نملك سوى أن نقول نعم لدستور معيب مشوه معادي للحريات وللعدالة الاجتماعية أو أن نقول لا فتمتد سلطات الرئيس الاستثنائية وتمتد المرحلة الانتقالية عاماً آخر على الأقل دون برلمان.

هكذا يتم تصوير الأمور وتقليص اختياراتنا وتصفيتها فى درب واحد، دائما ما يقال لنا، أو نوضع في خانة، إنه تفرضه الضرورة أو العملية الواقعية أو عدم وجود حلول آخرى. غير أن سياسة الدرب الوحيد، وهو درب عادة ما يكون مظلماً أو مليئا بالحفر ولا يؤدي إلا إلى ما هو أقل القليل، إن لم يوقعنا فى المزيد من العثرات، هي في الحقيقة تجفيف لمنابع الاحتمالات اللانهائية التي فتحتها الثورة لتحسين حياتنا. ولا يعنى امتداد “أنا أو الفوضى” المباركية، وإما «الديكتاتورية المخابراتية أو الاخوان» على الطريقة العمر سليمانية، و”إما العسكر أو انهيار الدولة” التي روجها المجلس العسكري، إلى «إما نعم أو الفوضى» الإخوانية، سوى أن الذين يحكموننا جميعاً يدورون فى مدار ما قبل الثورة سواء لأن ذلك مسألة وجود بالنسبة لهم، أو أن مصالح من يمثلونهم فى المجتمع تقيد بدائلهم، أو حتى بسبب ضيق الأفق وانعدام الرؤية لما صار ممكناً وواقعياً.

واقعيتهم الكاذبة

فلنتخيل أنفسنا يوم ٢٤ يناير ٢٠١١. كيف كانت المعارضة المصرية وربما كثيرون ممن كانوا ناقمين على الوضع، تتخيل إمكانات التغيير؟ الأغلبية الكاسحة كانت ترى ما يفعله نظام مبارك بالبلاد والعباد لكنها أيضا كانت محدودة «بالاختيارات الواقعية»: مطالبة النظام بإلغاء الطوارىء، الحصول على أكبر عدد من المقاعد في برلمان مدجن حتى وإن لزم لذلك بعض التنسيق على المقاعد مع أمن الدولة، القبول ببعض الاصلاحات هنا وهناك لأن توازن القوى لا يسمح بأكثر من ذلك، بل دافع بعض المعارضين الخلصاء عن نظرية أن مصر ليست تونس وأنه لا إمكانية لتغيير ثوري بسبب نقص التعليم والتنظيم، وبالتالي فإن المظاهرات المدعو إليها في اليوم التالي عمل «صبياني». فهل كان الواقع فعلا لا يسمح بأكثر من ذلك؟

كان الواقع يسمح في الحقيقة بثورة ٢٥ يناير التى أسقطت الديكتاتور وهزت أركان «استقرارهم» هزًّا. كانت تناقضات الواقع التي تنتج فقراً وظلماً ولا مساواة وانعداماً فى الكفاءة وكذباً مفضوحاً تنذر بالجديد لأصحاب المصلحة، وتهيء الأرض له. كانت نضالات العمال والموظفين والأطباء والمدرسين والمحامين والفلاحين تمهد الأرض على مهل وبإصرار للجديد الآتى. كانت شرعية النظام، الذى رأته بعض المعارضة مركز المجرة الذى لا يجوز الدوران إلا حوله وفي مداره، قد استنفدت رصيدها وخنقته تناقضاته في انتظار لحظة خروج الأنفاس. وجاء ٢٥ يناير ليكشف كيف أن السماء واسعة.

لكن الكثيرين يأبون تعلم درس الثورة لهذا السبب أو ذاك. 

هل يوجد أمامنا بدائل أخرى حقاً؟

لا تحظى المسألة الاقتصادية بعشر ما تستحقه من النقاش العام. لا تأخذ قضايا معيشة الناس ودخولهم وهل يجدون وظيفة أم لا وهل يجدون الغذاء والعلاج والدفء في الشتاء والتعليم لأبنائهم عشر مساحة ملاسنات عبدالله بدر ومحمد أبوحامد ومصطفى بكري، ولا بعضاً قليلاً مما تحتله مناظرات حصص السياسيين فى المجالس والجمعيات.

فى المسألة الاقتصادية، يجمع كل من يصلون للحكم على أنه «لا بديل» سوى استمرار النظام القديم بتقشفه وانحيازات موازناته وخططه التقشفية وبوصلته المتوجهة للمستثمرين عموماً، والأجنبي المباشر منه خصوصاً، على حساب أي شيء وكل شيء. هنا تظهر سياسة تجفيف البدائل في أجلى صورها، ويتم تغييب النقاش العام فى القضية التى يتهم شعبنا الثائر بأنه لا يهتم لغيرها: أكل العيش. والسبب واضح أن البدائل عديدة وأفق الواقع مفتوح لكن الخروج عن فلك السياسات القديمة يفجر التوازن السياسى الجديد الهش.

فلننظر في قرض الصندوق مثلاً. من يتخذ القرار بشأنه؟ كان المجلس العسكرى وحكوماته ثم الآن حكومة الرئيس المنتخب. وجميعهم يؤكدون على ضرورته وأهميته وكارثية الرجوع عنه. لكن من يتخذ القرار حقاً؟ سنجد وراء كل من ذكرناهم فريقين: الأول فريق الموظفين الحكوميين في الوزارات المعنية، وهؤلاء مدربون ومصممون لصيانة موديل قديم لسفينة غارقة، ومتمرسون فى حماية مصالح النظام القديم. أما الفريق الثاني من أصحاب القرار الحقيقيين فهم رجال أعمال النظام القديم وحلفاؤهم من النظام القديم الذين يريدون تحويل سياساتهم القديمة إلى التزام دولي يقيدنا بديون خارجية من المنتظر أن تقفز بعشرين مليار دولار في عام واحد لو مر القرض وتبعاته. أهمية قرض صندوق النقد أنه قرض سياسات يلخص كل شيء في السياسة والاقتصاد، يعيد إنتاج السلطة القديمة أحياناً بنفس الوجوه ويلخص التناقض بين زقاق مصالحهم وسموات مصالحنا.

في قضية القرض نواجه أناسا يقولون لنا إنه لا بديل وآخرين يقولون إن الواقع لا يسمح بإيقاف القرض. لكن الواقع في الحقيقة يسمح بالكثير. فهناك طائفة واسعة من البدائل «الواقعية من وجهة نظر الثورة والفقراء والاقتصاد الرشيد» في برامج المرشحين الرئاسيين وفى تصورات حملات شعبية عديدة وغيرها. وهذا ليس على مستوى التمنيات أو تفاؤل الإرادة لأن القديم صار مهلهلاً وضعيفاً وغير واقعي.

ماذا فعل قرض الصندوق في الأردن؟ رفعت الحكومة الأسعار فى سبتمبر (نفس الشرط المطلوب منا بحذافيره) فقام الشعب وتراجع الملك. لكن الأخيرة عادت لتحاول مرة أخرى في نوفمبر لتتحول المظاهرات هذه المرة إلى ماكان أمراً لا يُمس: الملك نفسه. هذه هي التناقضات التي توسع الأفق وترفع سماء الاحتمالات وتخلق واقعاً جديداً وترص قوى لم نكن نتخيل أنها موجودة وراء أهداف تبدو خيالية. فقط للنظر لما حدث عندما مررت الحكومة بليل إجراءات شبيهة بالأردن وسط جدل سياسي محتدم حول الاستفتاء على الدستور: اصطدم متخذو القرارات بواقعنا الجديد الذي لا يسمح بهذه الثورة المضادة، فقرروا تأجيله بعد ساعات قليلة.

وتتسع السماوات أكثر حينما ننظر للعالم. فتجارب الآخرين مليئة بالبدائل التنموية والاقتصادية المغايرة، في آسيا وأمريكا اللاتينية. ودروس الأزمة الاقتصادية في أوروبا وأمريكا تكشف تناقضات النظام الاقتصادي القائم على الإفقار والاستغلال وعدم المساواة وانعدام كفاءته حتى ضمن مقولاته ذاتها. وهكذا انفتحت، بفضل هذا وبالهام من ثورة العرب، باب بدائل أخرى يحارب من أجلها البسطاء.

هذه الثورة خلقت توازنا جديدا للقوى ذهب باستقرارهم إلى غير رجعة. هذا الآن هو الواقعي الحقيقي، وهو يعطينا ملايين البدائل والفرص الجديرة بالنضال من أجلها.

ببساطة: للثورة كل الخيارات الأخرى.

••• 

لنسأل جميع الأسئلة

ولنجمع كل الأشعة

ولنقف فى مدخل كل طريق

ولنصفّ من أشعارنا طريقا لكيلومترات طويلة

ولنكون أول من يتبين عدونا المقترب

ثم لنضرب بطبولنا

كي لا يبقى بلد أسير أو إنسان

ولا غيوم ذرية

ولنهب كل ما نملك من مال ومُلك وفكر وروح

ولتغدو أشعارنا طريق حريتنا الكبيرة

ناظم حكمت

[ عن جريدة " الشروق " المصرية]

حين قام الرئيس حسني مبارك بتعديل الدستور عام 2007، عاد إلى السطح الموضوع الذي طالما أثار جدلا واسعاً وهو وضع الشريعة في القانون المصري. ومن ضمن أكثر المشاركات في النقاش الذي تلى هذه التعديلات مفاجأة كان ما أدلى به البابا شنودة الثالث. ففي موقف يتناقض جذرياًمع مواقفه السابقة التي اتخذها في السبعينات إبان صراعه مع الرئيس السادات حول أسلمة المجتمع المصري، اتخذ البابا شنودة موقفاً تصالحياً عام 2007 تجاه الاسلاميين.  وبالتأكيد فإن البابا قد جازف حين تبرأ من تصريح لأحد أساقفته والذي دعا فيه إلى إلغاء المادة الثانية من الدستور والتي تنص على أن الشريعة الإسلامية هي المصدر الرئيس للتشريع المصري.

إن المنطق المباشر الذي دفع البابا شنودة لاتخاذ هذا الموقف هو خوفه من أن الدعوة إلى إلغاء المادة الثانية سيتسبب في عنف ديني. ولكن من المثير في سياق النقاش على المسودة الحالية للدستور أن نورد هنا أن البابا شنودة أصر في المقابل على أنه في حالة النص على دور الشريعة في مسودة الدستور، فإنه يجب إعطاء الأقباط أولوية لقانونهم الخاص فيما يخص الأحوال الشخصية في المجتمع المسيحي في المسودة. لقد شكلت تصريحات البابا شنودة التي أطلقها حول هذا الموضوع عام 2007 أساساً للمديح الذي أسبغه الشيخ يوسف القرضاوي على البابا بعد وفاته، والذي قال فيه إن البابا كان يحمل إحتراماً كبيراً للشريعة.

وبالطبع، وكما يعرف كل من قرأ نص مسودة الدستور التي يصوت المصريون عليها بداية من الخامس عشر من ديسمبر الجاري، فإن المخاوف التي عبر عنها البابا شنودة في 2007 فيما يخص الاعتراف بقانون الأحوال الشخصية القبطي قد تم النص عليها في هذه المسودة. فبعد المادة الثانية من مسودة الدستور التي تنص على أن الشريعة الاسلامية هي المصدر الرئيس للتشريع المصري، تأتي المادة الثالثة غير المسبوقة والتي تنص على أن: "مبادئ شرائع المصريين من المسيحيين واليهود المصدر الرئيسي للتشريعات المنظمة لأحوالهم الشخصية، وشئونهم الدينية، واختيار قياداتهم الروحية."

وقد وصفت المادة الثالثة بشكل واسع من قبل اللجنة التأسيسية ومؤيدي الدستور الجديد بأنها "تنازل" لمراعاة حساسيات المجتمع القبطي. أما المنتقدون لهذه المادة فقد ركزوا على فشل الوثيقة في الاعتراف بالمجتمعات غير المسلمة، أو المسيحية، أو اليهودية، أو بأولئك الذين لا يعتنقون أي ديانة.

ومع ذلك، فإن ما غفلت عنه تلك النقاشات حول المادتين الثانية والثالثة هو التأثيرات التي ستتركها هذه المواد على الديناميكيات الداخلية في المجتمع القبطي. وحتى لا نخطئ في فهم التأثيرات المتوقعة، فإننا نقول إن قرار اللجنة التأسيسية بإدراج المادة الثالثة في مسودة الدستور سيكون له بكل تأكيد تأثيرات بالغة على توازن القوى الداخلي في المجتمع القبطي والتطور السياسي فيه. وحتى نبين كيف ستؤثر هذه المواد على الأقباط، فإنه من المفيد أن نرجع إلى تصريح البابا شنودة عام 2007. فلماذا غير البابا، الذي دعا جاهداً في السبعينات لمساواة كل المصريين أمام القانون، موقفه وتبنى المادة الثانية عام 2007؟

إعتقادي الشخصي أننا يمكن أن نفهم هذا التغيير في موقف شنودة إذا درسنا مقاربته لكيفية قيادة الكنيسة بعد عودته من الاقامة الاجبارية عام 1985. فبعد أن أمضى أربعين شهراً بين عامي 1981 و1985 منفياً في دير النطرون في أقصى بقاع مصر، إختار شنودة أن ينبذ دعوته التي انخرط فيها في السبعينات لصالح أسلوب إدارة كنسي بدأه سلفه البابا كيرلس السادس. وهذا الأسلوب يقضي بالتعاون مع الدولة المصرية على افتراض أن الدولة تعترف بالبابا القبطي زعيماً شرعياً للمجتمع القبطي في الأمور الروحية والدنيوية. 

هذه المقاربة أثبتت فائدتها لكل من البابا كيرلس السادس والرئيس جمال عبد الناصر، حيث إنها سمحت لهما أن يقاوما عدواً مشتركاً، وهو النخبة القبطية. وفيما يخص هذا الجزء، فإن البابا قد ارتاح من التعامل مع التدخل المستمر من قبل العلمانيين الأقباط في شئون الكنيسة. أما بالنسبة للرئيس عبد الناصر، فإن تهميش ملاك الأراضي، والمحامين، والليبراليين من أبناء النخبة القبطية انسجم تماماً مع جهوده لتخليص المجتمع المصري من بقايا عصر النظام البرلماني، وأعانه على القيام بإعادة توزيع ثروة البلد.

أما بالنسبة للبابا شنودة عام 1985، فإن ما جذبه لهذه السياسة كان واضحا بنفس القدر. فقد تمكن من بناء وتوسيع شبكة علاقات اجتماعية وثقافية، ومؤسسات تعليمية ضمن إطار الكنيسة القبطية الأرثوذكسية، مما وضع الكنيسة في مركز المرجعية في الحياة اليومية للأقباط. في هذه المعادلة، تقوم الدولة بدرء خطر الاسلاميين وضمان سلطة البابا شنودة داخل الكنيسة والمجتمع طالما بقي ولاء البابا للنظام ثابتاً لا يتغير. وكما هو معروف، رغم أنه لا تتم مناقشته كثيراً هذه الأيام، فإن الولاء بقي بالفعل ثابتاً لا يتغير خلال ثورة 25 يناير، حيث أعلن شنودة تأييده لمبارك على شاشة التلفزيون أثناء الثورة التي استمرت ثمانية عشر يوماً. 

وفي هذا السياق السياسي، يمكننا فهم منطق التعليقات التي أدلى بها شنودة في 2007.إن إعترافه بالشريعة ودعوته للاعتراف بقانون الأحوال الشخصية القبطي كان ببساطة تأكيداً على وضع الكنيسة كمؤسسة محورية في حياة الأقباط اليومية، وكممثل شرعي وحيد للمجتمع القبطي. وبقدر ما سمحت به معادلة السلطة في مقابل الأحوال الشخصية من تعريف للسلطة في المجتمع القبطي، فقد كان هو مصمماً على الاحتفاظ بتلك السلطة في يديه نيابة عن الكنيسة.

والآن وقد اقترحت اللجنة التأسيسية أن تخول السلطة على الأحوال الشخصية في الكنيسة بطريقة رسمية ودستورية، وبمعنى آخر أن تقنن انتصار رجال الدين على منافسيهم من العلمانيين الأقباط في محاولة السيطرة على الكنيسة والمجتمع، فإنه لا يمكننا إلا أن نتساءل عن الدور الذي يمكن للأقباط العاديين أن يلعبوه في السياسات الخاصة بالأحوال الشخصية والأمور الوطنية. وفي مواجهة تصميم الكنيسة على تهميشهم وتأييد الدولة لهذا التهميش، فهل سيتم اتهام الأقباط العاديين الذين يريدون أن يكون لهم صوت مسموع في مستقبل مجتمعهم ووطنهم بأنهم مارقون ومخربون؟

[نشر المقال للمرة الأولىباللغة الإنجليزية بالتعاون بين "جدلية" و"Egypt Independent".  ترجمه إلى العربية لجدلية علي أديب]

Two years after Muhammad Bouazzizi’s self-immolation sparked a wave of uprisings in the Arab world, the region remains in turmoil. In what has become a lengthy process of fundamental transformation, there is little indication of when, how or on what basis stability will again be achieved.

Given the transitional nature of developments to date, the temptation to proclaim winners and losers needs to be resisted. If 2012 put paid to the initial notion that youth movements were displacing sclerotic elites and would soon reign supreme, 2013 may well see the subsequent orthodoxy that the Muslim Brotherhood will rule the roost from Morocco to Yemen challenged by reality. 

While sound analyses about the causes of Arab uprisings can already be crafted, forecasts about the consequences and outcome of what remains a work in progress are largely an exercise in informed speculation. With this caveat in mind, the following themes appear to be the more salient to attempts to understand recent and future regional developments:

First, elections have not promoted pluralism and democracy, but rather served to undermine them. By rushing to the ballot box as the panacea for societies emerging from autocracy and dictatorship, ambitions for new hegemonies have been empowered rather than tempered. Such polls – particularly free and fair ones – do not provide an opportunity for the people to “speak”, or for voters to make informed choices about the future. Rather, they give disproportionate voice to those organizations with the best machines and most resources. The exercise effectively allows the latter to take control of the future well before contending forces of change, including those who played an equal or greater part in the initial uprising, have the opportunity to coalesce and develop into serious contenders.

Elections that determine the framework of new constitutions are even more dangerous. As we see in Egypt, they can be instrumentalized by a single faction to take possession of the constitutional process and marginalize the judiciary that serves as the constitution’s guardian. In practice, such votes serve as little more than fig leaves to legitimize forms of leadership that are the very antithesis of a definitive break with the past.

Elections have also served to set such polities on a path of gradual and limited reform rather than structural, revolutionary change. Ancien régimes have never been voted out of power. Like bad teeth, they need to be surgically extracted and removed. In Tunisia and Egypt, the “deep state” – whose fate was postponed until after the transition is completed - has in fact successfully used and manipulated the electoral process to retain relevance and at times serve as an arbiter of transition.

Where an autocrat is cast out by a coalition of forces rather than a revolutionary movement or self-selected vanguard, a successful transition requires consensus among such forces on how to neutralize and defeat the pre-existing power structure. Agreement needs to be reached on the principles of regime change and how this will be implemented, and their collective participation in this endeavor is perhaps the best guarantee of pluralism and against new forms of dictatorship. Only after this objective has been achieved do discussions about the voting system and political competition in the form of elections begin to make sense. Voting does not in and of itself promote an infrastructure of democracy. That infrastructure must first be allowed to emerge and develop lest the ballot box serve as midwife for a new hegemony.

Second, Egypt is once again the region’s fulcrum and weathervane. If Tunisia was the spark, it was the Egyptian uprising that provided the explosion. The fate of its revolution, its Muslim Brotherhood, its military and much else will have a profound impact on counterparts across the region. The Muslim Brotherhood is perhaps the best example in this regard; just as its victories in Egypt empower other national chapters of the Islamist movement, so its defeats in Cairo embolden rivals and enemies from Marrakesh to Muscat. The same can hardly be said for its counterparts elsewhere.

Similarly, Egyptian policies towards external actors like the IMF, Israel and the United States will also have a regional impact. This was particularly evident during Israel’s November 2012 onslaught on the Gaza Strip. Cairo’s markedly different stance towards Israel and the Palestinians when compared to Mubarak’s active complicity in 2008-2009 was reflected in the changed stances of the Arab League and other Arab governments – including some of those who only a few years ago were virtually bragging about their purported neutrality in matters Israeli-Palestinian.

Sometimes described as the Arab world’s only genuine nation state, and with Cairo more often than not considered the region’s capital, Egypt has the capacity to set the tone even without trying to do so. Syria’s conflict may radiate to neighboring states, but no one even pretends to take their cue from Damascus. Tunisia is in this respect much less relevant.

Third, while the Muslim Brotherhood may yet emerge victorious in Egypt, the increasingly widespread opposition to it signals not so much a disillusionment with Islamism as it does a revulsion for any attempt to establish and practice unfettered power. These uprisings are first and foremost about establishing the rights and rites of citizenship as inalienable and indeed inviolable. Any attempt to once again make citizens servants rather than masters of the state will require massive force and subterfuge to succeed. This holds true even with respect to a movement that is perceived as having played an important part in the initial uprising’s success. It does not mean such efforts are doomed to failure, but rather that it will prove so divisive and costly that the legitimacy and longevity of such power are likely to be among its prominent victims.

Fourth, there appears to be a reason why some Arab states have largely peaceful transitions while others are mired in violence. The ferocity of dictatorship is here not the main factor, at least not directly so. Rather, it seems that those societies with a tradition of civil society – by which is meant political, labor and other associations independent of the state rather than foreign-funded NGOs – are in a better position to sustain mass protest. They tend to produce movements that grow rather than fragment, and strategies that adapt rather than transform. Part of the reason may be that their leaders have more experience in building organizations, forming coalitions and deploying them to contest state power. The experience of activists in more repressive societies is by contrast largely garnered in clandestine cells, prisons and exile. While these undoubtedly have benefits of their own, they also produce a very different political culture.

Thus the opposition in Yemen was able to weather the challenge of state violence much more effectively than in Syria or Libya. If the above explanation is correct, it is good news for countries like Morocco and Jordan, less so for others like Saudi Arabia.

Fifth, foreign intervention is an unmitigated disaster. Syrians who in their desperation to terminate a regime increasingly sustained by murder and mayhem as opposed to power and patronage perhaps understandably seek salvation from foreign powers. But they would do well to take a second, third and fourth look at Libya and Iraq. With the centenary of World War I approaching, it seems an appropriate time to counsel caution against states preaching the twenty-first equivalents of independence and self-determination. Particularly when advocacy of human rights and democracy is effectively a capital offence within their own dominions, or they have lovingly mothered a litter of such client regimes.

Out of the frying pan and into the fire seems to be the closest to rescue foreign military intervention can offer. Negative and destructive influences are furthermore not the sole preserve of imperial powers from distant continents. Arguably, neighbors closer to home are even more invested in shaping the new political system and social relations in their own image.

Sixth, the drama of political struggles across the region masks the reality that the most important challenges facing any new leadership are socio-economic. It is quite conceivable that Egyptian President Muhammad Morsi will get his constitution and further consolidate power, but subsequently be undone by a failure to effectively tackle the basic needs of Egyptian society. It’s not just freedom, but bread and land too. True, revolution and economic crisis are natural bedfellows. But change also produces heightened expectations. If new regimes do not begin formulating and implementing credible plans to reduce poverty, create jobs, and provide essential services, a population that has paid an enormous price to oust one set of rulers may well take to the streets for an encore.

Furthermore, the resources for such programs are not going to be delivered by the World Bank, Washington or the EU. Or even Qatar. In this respect, governments that focus on restoring trust in the stock market and creating a conducive climate for foreign investment may succeed in creating a bubble here and a constituency there, but will sooner or later face a rude awakening if more essential challenges are left unaddressed. Egypt is a prime though not the only example that suggests these two agendas are as a rule contradictory rather than complementary. It is not worse off today than during the 1970s despite decades of generous American and European aid and favorable treatment by international institutions. Rather, Egypt is today worse off because of these relationships. In its quest to maintain external support (and by extension the backing of new elites such support produced), it implemented policies that transformed it into a banana republic with an impoverished populace. In a nutshell, Egypt’s rulers so alienated their own people that they were eventually overthrown.

Finally, the transition from dictatorship to pluralism is in the Arab world largely dependent on replacement of the national security state with civilian rule. The security establishment and its myriad agencies are not mere tools in the hands of autocrats that collapse upon their ouster, but formidable centers of power in their own right. These not only constrain the policy options of weak or sclerotic rulers, but outlast them, seeking to replicate their role and institutionalize their rule as an integral part of any transition. More importantly, they cannot be reformed away; they need to be confronted and defeated, and made subservient to the state and accountable to its institutions rather than being the ultimate arbiters of political life. The challenges in this respect are particularly acute where regime change is a largely peaceful process and the security establishment takes a position of neutrality rather than being implicated head to toe in the misdeeds of the ancien régime’s final days.

As the Arab uprisings enter their third year, the region will continue to witness profound change, and some of it may well be catastrophic. Such processes of change are never exclusively for the good, and struggles for power can be particularly nasty when regional rivalries, sectarian agitation, class antagonisms and a determination to hang onto power irrespective of the cost are thrown into the mix. Yet in the larger scheme of things, this process of change will go down in history as the best thing to have happened to the peoples of the Arab world since decolonization.

[An earlier version of this article originally appeared in The National (UAE).]

[”A Profile from the Archives“ is a new series published by Jadaliyya in both Arabic and English in cooperation with the Lebanese newspaper, Assafir. These profiles will feature iconic figures who left indelible marks in the politics and culture of the Middle East and North Africa.]

Name: Ghada

Known as: Assamman

Father’s name: Ahmad

Mother’s name: Salma Ruwaiha

Date of birth: 1942

Nationality: Syria/Lebanon

Place of birth: Damascus

Category: Author

Profession: Writer

Ghada Assamman

• Syrian with Lebanese citizenship.
• She is one of the most famous Arab women writers and the most daring. She left a significant impact on Arabic literature.
• She was born in 1942 in Ashamiya village, near Damascus.
• Her father, Ahmad Assaman, was a university professor and the dean of the College of Law. He later served as the minister of education.
• Her mother: Salma Ruwaiha from Lathqiya.
• Her brother: Bishr.
• Her sister: Zulfa.
• She studied in Lycee French School in Damascus, then moved to Al-Tajheez School where she earned her highschool degree in the science branch. Her father wanted her to become a doctor, but she rebelled against his wish and joined the College of Literature in the English Language department in the University of Damascus.
• She worked during her university studies in a library and worked also as an English teacher in a highschool in Damascus. She also worked as a lecturer in Damascus University. Additonally she worked as a journalist and prepared programs in the radio.
• She went to Beirut right after graduation from Damascus University in 1964 and enrolled in the American University in Beirut. She received her MA in 1966 for her thesis about “The Literature of the Absurd.”
• She lived from 1966 to 1969 moving between Lebanon and European countries and had disputes with her family because of her insistence on personal and financial independence.
• She was sentenced to three months in prison because she left Syria while still working as an official employee without obtaining prior permission according to Syrian law. She was informed of the default judgment when she was in London. Consequently, she was fired from her work as a reporter for a Lebanese magazine.
• She started publishing stories in 1960. She published her first story in the Syrian Al-Akhbar newspaper. Then, she started publishing her stories in Arabic newspapers especially in Al-Usboo Al-Arabi Lebanese magazine, until she became the most famous name in the Arab World.
• She married Dr. Bashir Al-Dauook, owner of Al-Taleea publishing company. They have one son, Hazim.
• She lived in Beirut in its peak of cultural and architectural prosperity. She was one of the major contributors in cultural activities and became one of the most prominent Arab writers.
• With the breaking out of the civil war in Lebanon in 1975 and the deterioration of the security situation, she left Beirut to Paris in 1976. She kept visiting Lebanon until she settled permanently in Paris in 1984. She became the writer of the last page of Al-Hawadith Lebanese magazine.
• In 1993, she stirred a huge outcry in political and literary fields when she published a set of romantic messages written to her by Ghassan Kanafani in the sixties, when they had a publically known intimate relationship at that time.
• She started a publishing company under the name “Ghada Assamman Publications.”
• She collected her journalistic articles in a series and called it The Unfinished Works and published it in fifteen volumes. She also has nine poetry books.
• Her unpublished archive, which is deposited in a Swiss bank, includes many letters.
• Her works were translated to English, French, Polish, Spanish, Russian, Romanian, Italian, German, Persian, Yugoslavian and other languages.
• After the death of her husband in 2007 and the closure of Al-Hawadith magazine in 2011, she went into seclusion in her home in Paris and stopped publishing.

Her writings: Stories

• "The Departure of Old Ports" (1960)
• "Your Eyes Are My Destiny" (1962)
• "The Night of Foreigners" (1966)
• "The Time of the Other Love" (1978)
• "The Body as a Travel Bag" (1979)
• "The Occupied Depths - Al-Amaaq Al-Muhtalla" (1978)
• "The Square Moon" (1994) 
• "Beirut 1975" (1975)
• "The Nightmares of Beirut" (1976)
• "No Sea in Beirut" (1962)
• "In the Cold, Absent from Home" (1986)
• "The Eve of the Billion" (1986)
• "Wandering inside a Wound" (1988)
• "The Impossible Novel: Damascene Mosaic" (1997)
• "A Costume Party for The Dead" (2003)
• "The Interrogation of a Rebel Woman" (2011)

Other Writings, Articles and Poetry:

• "Love" (1973)
• "I Declared Love Upon You" (1976)
• "The Arrest of a Fleeing Moment" (1978)
• "Sealing the Memory with Red Wax" (1979)
• "A Woman Citizen Caught Reading" (1979)
• "A Swim in the Lake of Satan" (1979)
• "The Unfinished Works" (1979)
• "Unrestricted Writings" (1979)
• "Siren Inside My Head" (1980)
• "Bread Loaf Beats Like a Heart" (1980)
• "A.GH Stares" (1980)
• "The Tribe Interrogates the Murdered Woman" (1981)
• "I Testify Against the Wind" (1987)
• "The Antidote" (1991)
• "The Sea Prosecuting a Fish" (1986)
• "Love In All My Veins" (1980)
• "In the Cold, Absent from Home" (1986)
• "The Lust of Wings" (1995)
• "A Lover in Inkwell" (1995)
• "Nostalgic Letters to Jasmine" (1996)

Books about Ghada Assamman

• Ghada Assamman Without Wings - Ghada Assaman Bila Ajniha, Ghali Shukri (1977)
• Ghada Assamman: Love and War - Ghada Assamman: Al-hub Walharb, Ilham Ghali (1980)
• Arab Causes in Ghada Assamman’s Literature - Qadaya Arabia fi Adab Ghada Assamman, Hanan Uda (1980)
• The Art of the Novel of Ghada Assamman - Al-fan Al-Riwai Enda Ghada Assamman, Abdul Aziz Sabeel (1987)
• The Emancipation of Women in the Works of Ghada and Simon De Beauvoir - Taharrur Al-maraa abr ‘Amaal Ghada wa Simon De Beauvoir, Najlaa Al-Ikhtiyar (1990)
• Rebellion and Abidance of Ghada Assamman - Al-tamarrud Waliltizam enda Ghada Assamman, Paula Di Capoa (1991)
• Ghada Assamman in her Unfinished Works - Ghada Assaman fi ‘Amaliha Ghair Al-Kamila, Abdul Latif Arnaoot (1993)
• Sex in Ghada Assamman’s Literature - Al-Jins fi Adab Ghada Assamman, Wafiq Gharizi (2011)

Her Positions

• “I used to write about a homeland that was the master of the house. Now, his grandsons have become beggars on the gates of civilizations.” Asharq Alawsat, 14 November 1995.
• “A novel does not become impossible until it is written.” Al-Nahar, 25 September 1997.
• “I am a woman with no masks and freedom is the key to my life.” Al-Watan Al-Arabi, 27 February 1998.
• “In order to keep writing, I stay flaring, bewildered, wounding and wounded.” Al-Nahar, 19 October 1999.
• “I am Madam Bovary, I write whatever I like whenever I like and I enjoy committing my sins.” Al-Nahar, 20 November 1999.
• “I call for the emancipation of women not the suppression of men.” Ashiraa, 13 March 2000.
• “Love is always amazing, and the most beautiful thing in a man is his whims because it says he is still alive.” Assiyassa, 9 December 2001.
• “My father protected my wings and I built my future with the stones of the past.” Al-Anwar, 3 March 2002.
• “Each novel is my own independent adventure. I am an amateur and experimental writer not a professional one, I don’t produce novels from a hatching machine.” Al-Mustaqbal, 18 February 2003.
• “My home is not where my plane lands, it is the cloud in which my heart lives.” Al-Qabas, 19 July 2005.
• “Why is it that when we learn how to write we have to learn how to die?” Laha Magazine, 15 June 2008.
• “Literature is not a chatter, but rather a written word that could stay or get lost in the sand of our routes.” Ashiraa, 5 December 2011.

 [This article was translated from the Arabic by Ali Adeeb Alnaemi. Click here for the Arabic text.]

[Dr. James (Jim) House is a Senior Lecturer in French at the University of Leeds. His research interests have focused on the history and memory of the Algerian War of Independence along with antiracism in France. His monograph, "Paris 1961: Algerians, State Terror, and Memory," which he co-authored with Neil MacMaster, looks at the events the 17 October Massacre in the context of colonial violence and social memory. Dr. House's current research focuses on shanty-downs (bidonvilles) in Algeria and Morocco.]  

Muriam Haleh Davis (MHD): Were you surprised by French President François Hollande’s decision to officially recognize the massacre of 17 October 1961?

Jim House (JH): I was not really surprised since last year Hollande participated in the highly visible commemorations of the 50^th anniversary of this repression. Also, it is important to keep in mind that there was a period of ten years of the Right being exclusively in power (2002-2012), during which it was clearly impossible to do anything regarding state recognition of this violence: the Right had wanted to mark a transition after a relatively progressive period under Jospin’s government (1997-2002). It was also a quite clever political move given Hollande’s visit to Algiers in December.  And if one thinks back to 2001 and the debates in the Paris City Council Chambers about the commemorative plaque [for the massacre], there was basically the same grammar of support as well as the same expressions of opposition then as we are seeing now.

MHD: You mention Hollande’s upcoming visit to Algiers. How do you see the Algerian-French relationship playing out in the near future given that three French ministers have visited Algeria in the past four months? Do these political ties have an impact on the memory of the colonial past?  

JH: It is clear that the French government has prepared the ground very carefully for the French Presidential visit.  In part they are trying to get a sense - through measures such as Hollande’s declaration - of how far the Algerians expect the French state to go and what would be a precondition for closer economic ties, for example. And of course the Algerian side knows very well that in the post-Sarkzoy era there is a window of opportunity that may not still exist in eighteen months’ time, given that Hollande is already meeting problems in his presidency that may limit how much he can do in relation to the socialists let alone in relation to the rest of the political class.  Whether that leads to a wider symbolic revisiting of the colonial relationship I am not sure. I am also not sure that the Algerian government has much interest in changing their position on the massacre because it is very convenient for them to use this example of colonial violence and maintain the figures of the colonial oppressor and the oppressed - even if at the same time it is making diplomatic moves towards the French state.

MHD: In the book you discuss how the FLN (Front de libération nationale) has benefited from the 17 October massacre by helping to keep alive the memory of the colonial oppressor in order to bolster its own legitimacy. Given the widespread disillusion with the FLN in Algeria, how does this current political configuration impact the memory of this event? Is there a risk that the massacre might be strategically forgotten among certain individuals as a way of undercutting the FLN?

JH: There is a risk.  That systemic writing out, the deliberate refusal not to engage with what we know was a very hard won independence, is a real danger when we consider younger generations’ attitudes to the war of independence more generally. I suppose that it is a danger for the older generations as well.  I think there is certain ambivalence among many of the wartime generation who obviously realize that this legacy has been instrumentalized, but who at the same time, and quite understandably, want to commemorate that struggle.  The particular political spaces and mechanisms that the Algerian state has established in order to commemorate the war are also spaces that can be used politically as a sort of “watered down” opposition from within. In other words, there are people within certain veterans’ associations whose political credentials as mujahidin (fighters during the war) cannot be questioned.  As a result, they can say a few things that are critical and can thereby distance themselves from the Algerian state due to their status.  But it would be a real pity if the younger generation did not take seriously the examples of political agency, political organization and solidarity that could be drawn from the wartime period.

MHD: The term “colonial violence” has become increasingly controversial of late.  Some people have denied that one can use it to criticize the French Republic or metropolitan institutions.  What are your thoughts on the term itself and how it applies – or does not – to the massacre of 17 October 1961?

JH: I think that the historian has to understand the context in which violence takes place. What are the conditions of possibility for mass violence and what are the power relations in place that enable  those conditions? What is the repertoire of violence that can be used and how do the targets of violence experience the consequences? Any form of violence has to be situated within such considerations. In the Algerian case, we are dealing with a colonial war of liberation, so in that sense the “colonial violence” label seems to be appropriate - although it shocks people because we are talking about metropolitan France.  But if we are dealing with a series of power relations that revolve around a dominant imperial state  - or people challenging that domination from the position of a racialized dominated group - then it seems entirely appropriate to talk in terms colonial violence. Those power relations relating to colonial domination need to be articulated with other power relations, naturally. In Paris 1961 we looked not only at the conjuncture but also the moyenne and longue durée of the violence of that colonial relationship: we argued that the violence cannot be understood by looking only at period since 1945, or since the start of the war (1954) or since the arrival of Papon as Chief of Police in Paris (March 1958), but must be viewed as part of a much longer process.

MHD: In terms of a longue durée approach, how do think that the war of Independence influenced the codes of violence that came later? The civil war is often glossed over as trauma or a civil war but historians seem to lack any real conceptual apparatus to deal with this event.

JM: It would be difficult for me to give any kind of detailed analysis for the 1990s. One of the reactions of the October 1988 protests and their repression was to say, “here we are not dealing with a colonial state oppressing its people but an independent state.” But undoubtedly there is a relationship between the Algerian state and the citizens that is extremely problematic. Primarily because where that state feels threatened it reacts in a strong way and may use violence that is designed to discourage people from trying to mobilize further. And so I suppose you could take the analysis forward in terms of the history of state violence from that of FLN during the war of independence into the post-independence period. Of course on the ground these power relationships – and others - are very complex: there may well be inherited micro-level power relations from the war – questions of who did what individually, on the family level, or the local level, that also feed into political considerations. I am not fully qualified to speak about this, but it would be very surprising if [these factors] did not partially inform the new dynamics that emerged in the 1990s, forming a complex whole about which much more academic work is needed. What must be avoided is any essentialisation of such violence: instead we need to understand the shifting political conditions that render such violence possible.      

MHD: In your other work you have commented on the commemoration of the Fiftieth anniversary of independence. Were there disjunctures in how this event was remembered in Algeria versus in France? People have often talked about France and Algeria as a single transnational space, but how do we reconcile that with these very different commemorative practices?

JH: We can not collapse these two politically distinct spaces: the question is how we think about this transnational space heuristically – what sort of terms we use to describe the ways in which these spaces interrelate but are not identical. There are two levels on which one could respond to your question: there is the (bi-)national level, and then there are particular groups within France and Algeria. Of course these two are linked but on a national level these commemorations do political work in Algeria by emphasizing the celebration of a purportedly cohesive society rising up as one against a colonial oppressor, and by reminding the population who that oppressor was. And on the French side we know that states do not typically commemorate defeat – or they only do so when they have no other choice, and when there is sufficient pressure from groups from within civil society to undertake that commemoration at an official level, as we have seen with the case of 17 October 1961 Likewise, when the French state commemorated the contribution of its military to the conflict, that was entirely understandable and readable as the result of successful political lobbying by veterans. In addition, under the pressure of certain civil society groups [the French state has] promoted the contribution of the pied-noir (Europeans born in Algeria) to the wider colonial history, thereby marking official recognition of the loss experienced by settler colonialism at independence.

Because of the groups I have tended to work with, I have spoken with people within Algerian and French societies seeking visibility or in some cases to underline an existing visibility and recognition that were hard won, as in the case of the French FLN’s contribution to the war effort after decades of political marginalization. Many such former actors still feel this desire for recognition.  And while such recognition can come from the state, it can also stem from individual initiatives and the writing of memoires.  In some respects the memory wars that are being fought in Algeria have been fought within a  ‘nationalist field’ where there is the desire to situate oneself not only in relation to a political marginalization imposed from above - by the state - but also in relation to other former nationalist actors. But such memories are also being transformed by historiography: some of those memoires are implicitly informed by the history work that has been done over the course of the 1990s and since. There is a very interesting relationship between memory and history that is going on in many of these memoires of the former leaders of the French FLN Federation, for example. 

MHD: Is it possible to write a history that moves between the Algerian and French spaces without reducing the FLN’s victory for national independence?

JH: The problem is the process by which the FLN became dominant within the nationalist field - and ensured that it remained dominant until 1962 and well beyond. Rival groups did not disappear during the war: for example, the archives show that the MNA still existed in the latter years of the war, although it was severely depleted.  So it is a question of keeping in mind those plural strands of Algerian nationalism and understanding the process by which that pluralism was eroded but was never entirely destroyed. Historically it means asking some very difficult questions of the choices of levels and forms of violence used by the FLN. It means studying the processes by which the FLN decided to polarize particular communities and the spatial dynamics this took, with (for example) the punishment of one village in relation to another. But such studies can be undertaken within a historical examination of how violence occurs, just as the violence of the colonial state can be analyzed from similar perspectives.   

I think oral history has a role to play here as well because it shows us just how complex the picture is. These stories allow us to complicate many of the heavily ideologically-informed positions. In almost every oral history interview I have conducted, I have come across one if not many examples which would show just how complicated the war experience was when examined at the level of the everyday. Which means that the only history of the war that can be written – the only meaningful history – is a multi- dimensional history.  The historian of colonial Algeria needs to account for the messiness of this history, and in my sense the messiness of this specific history  - of an anti-struggle for liberation - cannot just be written from the official record whether that be Algerian or French. It has to be done using a very wide variety of sources.

This means that the historiography may be moving towards areas which are uncomfortable for the FLN.  For example, my current research on the nationalist demonstrations of December 1960 raises questions about the FLN’s ability at that specific point in the war to actively control the urban population: at the same time as there was a genuine desire for independence, in December 1960 the FLN probably had not regained a third of the strength it had enjoyed in Algiers prior to the “Battle of Algiers”. This encourages us to examine the relationship between a genuine desire for independence and the ability of what had been a mass organization to structure that struggle. 

MHD: Does this discomfort with the Algerian historiography (which is increasingly shared by both the FLN and France, as you mention) bring us back to what Balibar called the “frontière nonentière” between Algeria and France[1]? How do you situate his statement that Algeria and France add up to not one country, and not two, but something like one and a half?

JH: It is important to understand the specific context in which Balibar came out with those deliberately provocative essays.  He was posing a double critique of radical Islamism and its attempt to eradicate any French influence in Algeria, on the one hand, and a critique of the discourse of the National Front in France, on the other.  Interestingly, his notion of the “one and a half-ness” in the Franco-Algerian relationship also comes out most strongly in looking at life histories. For example, his intervention can be read most convincingly from the bottom up and by looking at the migrant experiences. When people read Abdelmalek Sayad they run into problems because Sayad constructed his approach based on the idea of the double absence of the migrant - presupposing the migrant’s geographical absence from their society of origin alongside an incomplete presence in the ‘host’ society - rather than a double presence, whereby the migrant was simultaneously part of both societies.[2] The truth is that we are still in the process of forging the heuristic tools to understand this situation and the forms of multi-identification that often characterize the migrant experience. 

لعله إذ يقول: (كما لم اعلق على مظاهرتكم وتجمعكم، فلتتركوني اسمع "عبري" كما أريد!) ، رداً على تلك الصبية التي طلبت منه على الاقل أن يحترم المظاهرة المناصرة لإضراب الأسرى في سجون الصهاينة، بما أنه لن يشارك، وذلك أثناء مروره بسيارته التي تصدح منها ألحان وأغان عبرية، في أحد أحياء مدينة القدس التي تشهد إعتصامات داعمة لإضراب الأسرى الجائع للحرية، لم يدرك بعد أنه يعد تمثلاً جلياً لأحد إثنين من "أجهزة الدولة" كما عرَّفهم لويس التوسير، إذ صنفهم ذلك الأخير إلى "أجهزة قمعية" والتي هي عتاد أنظمة السلطة في ممارسة التحكم والهيمنة المادية على المكان والأفراد بواسطة العنف والقمع والقوة المادية الصلبة من خلال أجهزة الشرطة والجيش وقانون العقوبات، أما النوع الثاني فهو ما يمثله ذلك الفلسطيني "المارق بسيارته/مكانه" المعبرّن باعتباره نتيجة له، وهو "الأجهزة الأيديولوجية" وهي أجهزة قمعية من نوع آخر تعتمد الأيديولوجيا أو اللاوعي الاجتماعي الذي يعاد انتاجه وتشكيله في مؤسسات الدولة والمجتمع المختلفة، حيث يتم اعادة تعريفه وتشكيله بحيث يعيد تعريف العلاقات الناظمة بين: - الأفراد بعضهم بعضاً، وعلاقات تعريف الجامع الذاتي بينهم. - إدراكهم للفضاء الحاوي لهم والعالم وموقعهم منه.

وهو مالا يمكن الوصول إليه إلا من خلال تعديل الخطاب، الذي يعد بحسب المفكر الفرنسي ميشيل فوكو "كل انتاج ذهني سواءاً أكان نثراً أم شعراً منطوقاً أم مكتوباً فردياً أم جماعياً، ذاتياً أم مؤسسياً"، فللخطاب منطق داخلي وارتباطات مؤسسية، فهو ليس ناتجاً بالضرورة فقط عن ذات فردية بعيدة كل البعد عن التأثير والتأثير بالمكان والزمان والذات منهما.

ولكي نفهم سيرورة الزمان والمكان الفلسطينييَّن الواقعين تحت "الاستيطان الإحلالي" - وليس مجرد استعمار-  يجب علينا استحضار نموذج تمثيلي لهما على أن يكون في مرحلة أكثر تقدماً، تخطت حاجز المقاومة والرفض، ولعل الحالة الأمريكية باعتبارها حالة استيطانية إحلالية، قامت مروراً بثلاثة مراحل متعاقبة ومترابطة عضوياً: إحتلال وإستعمار أرض جديدة، ومن ثم "الاستيطان" بها (أي خلق تمثيلات مادية للـ"وطن")، وذلك بعد "إحلال" مجموعات بشرية مختلفة من خارج الزمان والمكان الأصلييَّن، وطرد/قتل/تشريد/نفي أصحاب الأرض/المكان والحضارة/الزمان الأصليين، وبذلك تصير الحالة الأمريكية هي الأكثر تمثيلاً كولونيالياً. فالهندي الأحمر الذي يعد صاحب المكان والزمان الذي قامت عليهما "أمريكا"، قد أصبح جزءاً من اللغة والتاريخ والثقافة الأمريكية، ولكنه ليس جزءاً مقاوماً، إنما جزء عضوي ساكن، في النموذج الأمريكي، ذلك الأخير الذي يتجمل بالهندي الأحمر من باب شفقة الجاني على الضحية، حيث لا يمكن للرجل الأمريكي الأبيض التعرف على ذاته من دون الهندي الأحمر:

فمِنْ حقّ كولومبوس الْحُرّ أن يَجدَ الهنْد في أيّ بَحْر،
ومَنْ حقّه أن يُسمّي أَشْباحَنا فُلفُلاً أوْ هُنودا،
وفي وُسْعهِ أَنْ يكسّر بوْصلةَ الْبحْر كي تَسْتقيم
وَأخطاءَ ريح الشّمال، ولكنّه لا يصدّق أنّ الْبشر

سواسيّةٌ كالْهواء وكالماء خارج ممْلكة الْخارطة!
(م.درويش)

لقد تحول الهندي الأحمر إلى جزء من تعريف البنية الكولونيالية لنفسها، بل ولرمز كولونيالي فاعل لديمومة فعلها الأيديولوجي، وإدراكها لذاتها أو ما يمكن أن نسميه بالتمثيل من حيث هو"ضرب من العمليات التي تدور حول طريقتنا في النظر إلى أنفسنا وإلى الآخرين، وطريقتنا في عرض أنفسنا وتقديم الآخرين" حيث " مامن معرفة سياسية أو سواها خارج التمثيل". فهاهي الولايات المتحدة التي تحت إدعاء نشر الديموقراطية وحقوق الإنسان تسمي عملية اغتيال أسامة بن لادن باسم أحد أكبر قادة قبائل الهنود الحمر الذين قاوموا الاستيطان الأمريكي لأراضيهم، وهو نفس الإسم الذي تسمى به الطائرة المروحية / إله الحديد المستخدمة من الجيش الإسرائيلي في عملياته ضد الفلسطينيين، والتي هي –أيضاً - صناعة امريكية، فهاهو الأبيض الكولونيالي، يكرم نفسه بضحاياه.

مخطيء من يظن أن ذلك الفلسطيني المارق بسيارته "المعبرنة" قادر على تعريف نفسه وإدراك تمثلاتها في بنية الدولة الكولونيالية على أنها ذات "فلسطينية"، إنما هو يعد "هندياً أحمر" يحتفل بأعياده ومناسباته الهندية الوطنية ذات الطابع القبائلي الخاصة به وحده، على التلفزيون الامريكي مرتدياً الجينز ويأكل وجبات سريعة متحدثاً بلغته المحلية في مكتب العمدة المحلي المقام على أنقاض قريته ورفات من دافع عن هويته ووطنه.

ولعل لذلك الحدث أهمية شديدة في تحليل الموقف واستيضاح المعنى، فالحراك الأسير المقاوم الجائع للحرية يعيد لعملية مقاومة أسرلة المكان والزمان الفلسطينيين زخماً حيوياً هاماً ، فذلك الدعم الفلسطيني للأسرى على كامل الأرض الفلسطينية المحتلة (مباشرة أو عن طريق ما أسماهم فرانز فانون وسطاء الإستعمار) هو محاولة لتحرير المكان وتقشير الظل الإسرائيلي عنه (الشوارع/المدن/الجامعات/المساجد/الكنائس/المعابر)، تلك الأماكن التي تعتبر من أساسيات بنية "أجهزة الدولة الأيديولوجية الحديثة"، التي تشكل اساس أدراكنا للمكان الفلسطيني المحتل، إذ "لايصبح مكاناً مكاناً إلا حين يأخذ إسماً وحدوداً وشكلاً معيناً يمثله، وتتشكل الأماكن بفعل مزدوج، فهي في الغالب تشيد وتنحت مادياً لكنها أيضاً تتشكل من خلال عمليات السرد والتفسير والاحساس والانطباعات والفهم والخيال".

كما يساهم ذلك الدعم في استعادة الـ"زمنية الفلسطينية الجامعة" التي يدرك الفلسطينيون ذاتهم من خلالها، تلك الزمنية الجامعة التي تتخطى الحدود التعريفية الايديولوجية الفارقة والتي تعد صنيعة الخطاب الصهيوني (عرب الـ48/فلسطينيوا 67/ عرب الداخل/ فلسطينوا المنافي والشتات) وغيرها. وهو ما يعد كسراً لمرآوية الذات الفلسطينية صهيونياً ، لتعود حدود الزمان والمكان الفلسطينيين من البحر إلى النهر، وهو ما يعطي أهمية قصوى للحراك الداعم للاسرى داخل المكان الفلسطيني كاملاً وخارجه في المنافي والشتات، تذكيراً للعالم بأن الفلسطينون لم يتحولوا إلى "هنود حمر" تتجمل بها أحياء وأكتاف أعداءنا، وأن المكان الفلسطيني لم يعلن هزيمته بعد، و أن الزمنية الجامعة فلسطينياً وعربياً أكبر من حدود أزمنة حكوماتنا ورباعياتها واستحقاقاتها الايلولية.

(طوبى لمن يكتبون التاريخ بجوعهم وصمتنا)

[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

From Manama to Gaza: Solidarity Between Bahrain and Palestine Yazan al-Saadi writes on a solidarity trip to Gaza paid by Bahraini medical officials in defiance of the alliance between the Bahraini government and Israel, on Al-Akhbar English.

Reports and Opinions

UAE ‘is a centre for creativity and innovation’ A news report on the inauguration of the third Annual Global Entrepreneurship Summit-Entrepreneurial Ventures of Arabia in Dubai, on Gulf News.

What is Qatar hiding? Mona Kareem argues Qatar is the Arab North Korea given the many hidden secrets regarding political life in the Gulf state, on al-Akhbar English.

Dubai, buy, buy: Gulf state starts to build again Loveday Morris examines the new building boom in Dubai within three years of the debt crisis, in The Independent.

The plight of Yemen’s ‘untouchables’ A media report on the prejudice against Black Yemenis, on Al-Jazeera English.

Fact Sheet: Center for Excellence for Countering Violent Extremism A fact sheet issued by the United States embassy in Abu Dhabi inaugurating the first international center for countering extremism in the Gulf state.

Tweeter and re-tweeter ‘equal in crime’: Lawyer A news report on legislation that criminalizes tweets and re-tweets that are seen in “violation of law,” in Kuwait Times.

Repression in Bahrain

Mahazza Village Still Under Siege A news report on the month-long siege of Mahazza in Sitra by the Interior Ministry, on Global Voices.

Bahrain minister plays down dialogue calls Bill Law writes on the Information Affairs Minister’s accusation of the opposition of “misusing” the Crown Prince’s call for a dialogue, on BBC.

Bahrain’s Shias: Getting back out there An article on the ongoing protests in Bahrain and the royal family’s fear of both their Sunni and Shia citizens, in The Economist.

Bahrain: A Return to Dialogue? Shahira Salloum argues changes in the regional and international support of the royal family are behind the Crown Prince’s calls for a national dialogue, on al-Akhbar English. 

“Scrutiny of the Ruling Family’s finances remains a secretive affair, an issue that is bound to strengthen the opposition to Al Khalifa rule” Marc Owen Jones examines the increasing wealth of Bahrain’s Al Khalifa since 1926, on Your Middle East.

Amnesty International

Bahrain must release activist after ‘hollow’ appeal verdict A statement by the organization condemning Nabeel Rajab’s two-year prison sentence.

Election in Kuwait

Kuwait forces bar protesters from parliament A news report on the non-violent protests against the new legislature inaugurated by the Kuwaiti emir, on Al-Jazeera English.

Misusing elections Omayma Abdel-Latif reflects on the implication of the election results for political life in Kuwait, on Al-Ahram Weekly.

Crisis in Yemen

Republican Guard Members Sentences in Yemen A news report on the prison sentences of ninety-three members of the Republican Guard, which is controlled by the former President’s son.

Whence Yemen’s violence? Nasser Arrabyee reflects on the conflict between the Houthis and the Saudi-supported Islah party in Yemen, on Al-Ahram Weekly. 

A long road ahead for Yemeni women Atiaf Zaid Alwazir writes on the marginalization of women’s issues in the upcoming national dialogue, on Open Democracy.

A Bleak Future for Yemen’s Female Leaders Afrah Nasser reflects on the plight of Yemeni women, on Al-Akhbar English.

Markets

Jaguar Land Rover looks into Saudi car production Dan Milmo writes on the possibility of manufacturing JLR vehicles in Saudi Arabia, in The Guardian.

Arabic

عادت القوات المسلحة للظهور على الساحة السياسية، ولم يكن ظهورها هذه المرة فقط للإدلاء بالبيانات التي تحاول شرح أسباب اصرار بعض ضباط القوات الجوية على إيقاظ سكان المدن من النوم مبكراً عن طريق التحليق المنخفض بالمقاتلات فوق الأحياء السكنية، أو تبرير آخر انتهاك تورط فيه أفراد الجيش (على غرار البيان الذي تلاه المتحدث الرسمي للقوات المسلحة عصر الثامن عشر من نوفمبر لتبرير الاعتداء على جزيرة القرصاية) — ولكن هذه المرة كان الظهور للحديث عن الشأن السياسي العام والتعبير عن موقف (وإن كان مبهماً وحمّالاً للأوجه) من موجة الاحتجاجات العنيفة التي تبعت الاعلان الدستوري الصادر بتاريخ 22 نوفمبر، وهو ما آثار حفيظة البعض والتفاؤل الساذج عند البعض الآخر والقلق عند الكثيرين. أضف إلى هذا القلق المستمر الظاهر في تصريحات حكومة الاخوان والذي يعكس تساؤلاً تردد كثيراً هو الآخر في الشوارع عن فلسفة عمل جهاز الشرطة في عصر الرئيس المنتخب محمد مرسي، ثم ضعها بجانب قرار إعطاء صفة الضبطية القضائية لأفراد القوات المسلحة — وهو قرار مشابه للقرار الذي كان محامو الاخوان قد طعنوا به إلى جانب عدد من المنظمات الحقوقية في 13 يونيو الماضي، عندما أصدره وزير عدل المجلس العسكري، قبيل المرحلة الثانية من الانتخابات. مع الفارق أن القرار في هذه المرة صادر بقوة القانون، كما أنه وضع سقفاً زمنياً لهذه الصلاحية المضافة لرجال القوات المسلحة، كما أنه مرتبط بإعلان نتيجة الاستفتاء الدستوري المقبل (أي أنه في الغالب مرتبط بعدم ثقة الحكومة في قدرة الشرطة على تأمين الاستفتاء). كل هذه التساؤلات تدفعنا للعودة إلى التساؤل الأصلي عن طبيعة العلاقة المعقدة بين الرئيس مرسي وحكومته، وبين مؤسسات الدولة العميقة أو أجهزتها الأمنية. 

لا شك أن حكومة الاخوان منذ تولي مرسي الرئاسة قد سعت إلى تشكيل تحالف حاكم مع أجهزة الدولة القائمة، وفي مقدمتها الشرطة والجيش. كما أنها قدمت تنازلات عديدة من أجل بناء هذا التحالف: فهي بطبيعة الحال لم تفكر في تعيين وزيراً للداخلية من خارج جهاز الشرطة (وهو أمرا متوقع), ولا من خارج دائرة قيادات الداخلية الأكثر نفوذاً والأكثر تجسيداً لفلسفة "استعادة القبضة الأمنية" — أي من قطاع الأمن العام والقطاعات الجغرافية (مديري أمن المناطق)، وهي الدائرة التي ينتمي اليها الوزير أحمد جمال الدين، (وكل من سبقوه من بعد العادلي)، الذي كان مديراً لأمن أسيوط وقت اندلاع ثورة يناير، وأشرف بنفسه على قيام جنوده بالتعدي بالضرب واعتقال أخت زوجة المرشد العام للاخوان المسلمين، محمد بديع يوم 26 يناير، طبقاً لما رواه لي عدد من شباب الاخوان (الحاليين والسابقين) من منطقة أسيوط الذين شاركوا في مظاهرة 26 يناير (وكتب عنه أيضا محمد أبو الغيط في مقالته الشهيرة"في انتظار نهاية العالم")، والذين اعتقلوا يومها ولم يستطيعوا حتى الآن استساغة تعيين أحمد جمال الدين وزيراً للداخلية. وبخلاف شخص وزير الداخلية، فقد كان أهم ما قدمته حكومة الرئيس مرسي من أجل ضمان تحييد وزارة الداخلية ومشاركتها في التحالف السياسي الجديد هو ضمان عدم المساس بجهاز الشرطة بتاتاً لا تطهيراً ولا إصلاحاً ولا حتى عتاباً. 

لم تحتج حكومة الاخوان أن تقدم حتى هذه الضمانات للمؤسسات الأمنية الأخرى التي خرجت من الثورة أكثر تماسكاً (أقصد الجيش والمخابرات). وبهذا فقط حافظ الرئيس مرسي على الطابع الأمنوقراطي للدولة المصرية اتقاء لشر تلك المؤسسات، أولاً، ولتوافق رؤيته لدور وشكل الدولة مع الرؤية الأمنوقراطية، ثانياً، والأهم من هذا وذاك لأنه يحتاجهم بشدة في الفترة القادمة. ولكن شيئاً ما قد اختلف في مصر ما بعد الثورة وهو ما لا يتحكم فيه الرئيس ولن يستطيع استعادته في الغالب: وهو نقص قدرة تلك المؤسسات على القمع والسيطرة الاجتماعية. الإخوان يحاولون الحفاظ على الطابع الأمنوقراطي لدولة غير قادرة على استعادة شرعية القمع وتحتاج الى مجهود أكبر بكثير لممارسته وتواجه مقاومة مستمرة من قطاعات شعبية واسعة، وفي غياب الإرادة عند حكومة الاخوان المحافظة لخلق تصور جديد لعلاقة الدولة بالمجتمع ينتج عن هذا أن هذه المؤسسات التي يخشاها الرئيس ويحتاج إليها في نفس الوقت تفضل التقوقع حول نفسها وحماية مكتسباتها الموروثة منذ تأسيس الدولة المصرية القمعية الحديثة بقدر المستطاع. وتفضل تفادي الصدام كلما أمكن، فهكذا تزداد ترسخاً دولة "ملوك الطوائف" كمايصفها أشرف الشريف. وقد ظهر هذا بوضوح في المناقشات التي دارت في عمل اللجنة التأسيسية حيث حاربت كل طائفة من أجل ترسيخ وضع أكثر تمييزاً لها ولم تكترث بما ورد في بقية النص فكانت معارك الدستور "طائفية" بامتياز. وتقبل الإخوان هذا الواقع وتفاوضوا مع ملوك كل طائفة حسب ما سمحت به توازنات القوى—فوجدناهم يناطحون طائفة القضاء أحيانا وينحنون أمام طائفة الجيش دائماً.

لا يوجد أدنى سبب لكي نظن كما يظن البعض بأن القوات المسلحة على خلاف مع الرئيس وحكومة الإخوان—خاصة بعد أن حصلوا على أقصى أمانيهم في مشروع الدستور الأخير وبدون أي مقاومة تذكر (اللهم إلا بعض المقاومة الشفهية التي بدت مصطنعة من المستشار الغرياني ومن الدكتور محمد البلتاجي—راجع تسجيلات مناقشات الدستور حول مواد القوات المسلحة). بل وقد حصلوا على هدية في النسخة الأخيرة من الدستور: فبعد أن كانتنسخة 15 أكتوبر 2012تنص على أنه "لا يجوز بحال أن يحاكم أمام القضاء العسكرى إلا العسكريون ومن فى حكمهم" تم تعديل هذه المادة في المسودة الأخيرة لكي تسمح بمحاكمة المدنيين في حالات ارتكاب "الجرائم التى تضر بالقوات المسلحة" وكان هذا بعد أقل من أسبوعين من معركة جزيرة القرصاية والتي استولت القوات المسلحة على جزء منها يوم 18 نوفمبروقتلت أحد سكانها اثناء هجومها على الجزيرة وحاولت كالعادة اتهام الأهالي بالتعدي على إحدى أراضي القوات المسلحة  على الرغم من أن القضاء الإداري قد أقر بأحقية الأهل في الأرض—وقد أحيل من قبض عليه من أهالي الجزيرة لاحقاً الى النيابة العسكرية. الشيء الوحيد الذي قد يهدد هذا التحالف هو فقدان القوات المسلحة لثقتها في قدرة حكومة الإخوان على انهاء حالة السيولة السياسية والاجتماعية ولكن في جميع الأحوال تدخلهم بصورة مباشرة مستبعد. ومحاولتهم للظهور في أغلب الأمر يقصد بها توصيل رسالة مبهمة يفهمها كل طرف على أنهم متوافقين معه، وفي أحد التحليلات التي قرأتها يقول صاحبها مازحاً إن الجيش يصدر تلك البيانات حمالة الأوجه لأنه لا يجد شيئاً آخر يشغل به الفراغ الرهيب الذي أصابه بعد تنحيته عن الإدارة المباشرة للمجال السياسي.

ولكن ماذا عن الشرطة؟ فالجيش يستطيع أن يتوارى ويمارس نشاطه في الخلفية كما يحلو له، ولكن هذا ترف لا يقدر عليه رجال الشرطة — ذراع الدولة الأكثر احتكاكاً بالمواطن.

كان من المتوقع أن يتسبب استمرار حالة السيولة الثورية في ظهور تناقضات في طبيعة علاقة الحزب الحاكم بالشرطة — وهي علاقة قائمة على مصلحة مشتركة وشراكة استراتيجية أيضاً وليس فقط على توافق مؤقت بالإبقاء على الهياكل القديمة المتآكلة للدولة. فالاستقرار السياسي والاجتماعي هو الشغل الشاغل لحكومة الاخوان ولداعميهم في الداخل وفي الخارج، كما أنه القاسم المشترك بين أهداف وتطلعات الحكومة الحالية والجهاز الأمني الموروث من دولة ما قبل الثورة. لقد اعتاد الناس على تقييم أداء الشرطة بناء على تفاعلها مع التظاهرات السياسية الصاخبة وفي هذا تجاهل للدور الأكبر التي تلعبه — وتشتاق إلى العودة له — وزارة الداخلية وهو القمع الاجتماعي. في تقديري أن وزارة الداخلية إن عاجلاً أم آجلاً سوف تمر بنفس التحول الذي مرت به (وأرى أنها قد بدأته بالفعل) أجهزة الشرطة في دول أمريكا اللاتينية على سبيل المثال بعد التحول الديمقراطي: أي أن دورها في القمع والحصار السياسي سينحسر بشدة، في نفس الوقت الذي يزيد دورها في القمع والسيطرة الاجتماعية. حكومة الإخوان تحتاج إلى أجهزة قمع قوية حتى تستطيع تنفيذ برنامجها الاقتصادي والاجتماعي والذي سيتسبب حتما في ردود فعل عنيفة على مستوى الشارع. وقد أعطت الضوء الأخضر منذ بدايات صيف 2012 لوزارة الداخلية للتعامل بقوة أكثر مما كانت تقدر عليه في السنتين الماضيتين مع الاحتجاجات الاجتماعية والإضرابات العمالية, وقد حاولت الشرطة التعامل بالقوة مع إضراب سائقي النقل في جراج امبابة في سبتمبر الماضي وقامت باقتحام الجراج لضبط وإحضار احد قيادات الإضرابكما بدأت في التعامل بقوة ليس فقط في حالات قطع الطرق الاحتجاجية والتي انتشرت بشدة مع تردي خدمات الدولة خاصة في المحافظات وارتفاع سقف توقعات المواطنين، بل أيضاً مع حالات أقل إرباكاً بكثير—فبدأت الشرطة في صيف 2012 في استخدام القوة لفض وقفات صغيرة ذات مطالب محدودة في المحافظات خارج مباني المحافظة والوحدات المحلية وفي اعتقال المنظمين لتلك الوقفات—ولا بد أن هذه الجرأة المكتسبة مؤخراً قد أتت بدعم من أعلى. إضافة الى ذلك فقد بدأت الشرطة في محاولة "استعادة هيبتها" (وهو المصطلح الذي أصبح لبانة يلوكها قيادات الشرطة ليل نهار) عن طريق استخدام القوة المفرطة والأسلحة النارية باستسهال شديد وهو ما نتج عنه الكثير من حالات القتل (أتحدث مثلا عن 12 حالة وفاة نتيجة للاستخدام غير المبرر وغير القانوني للقوة فيما بين يوليو ونوفمبر 2012  شاركت في توثيقها وفي تقديم الدعم القانوني لضحاياها كما كانت مؤسسة النديم لإعادة تأهيل ضحايا التعذيب قدأصدرت تقريراًقامت فيه بتجميع الرقم الإجمالي لحالات القتل والتعذيب في فترة المائة يوم الأولى من حكم الرئيس مرسي من مصادر مختلفة وقدرت العدد بـ 34 حالة قتل خارج اطار القانون و88 حالة تعذيب).

 ولكن علاقة الشرطة بالمجتمع ليست — أو لم تعد — "علاقة خطية "، ففي الحالات التي تجد مقاومة فيها يختلف رد فعل رجال الشرطة، فتجدهم أحياناً يلجئون للقوة وأحياناً أخرى للهروب، واليوم تجد الشرطة نفسها مضطرة للتعامل مع ردود فعل جماهيرية غاضبة عندما تقتل شخصاً بغير حق أو عندما تقوم بتعذيب شخص حتى الموت في أحد أقسام الشرطة.لذا، عندما نصحو من النوم في يوم من الأيام على أخبار عن معارك تدور خارج أحد أقسام الشرطة أو عن قطع طريق القاهرة — الدلتا، تسارع أذرع وزارة الداخلية الاعلامية والمعلوماتية لتوصيل رسالة لإعلام العاصمة وللرئاسة والحكومة بأنها ليست إلا حالة أخرى من حالات البلطجة غير المبررة وأن الأهالي الغاضبون ما هم إلا مجموعة من مسجلي الخطر الذين يحاولون تحرير أصدقائهم من أسر الشرطة. وفي كل مرة تتبنى أجهزة الاعلام والحكومة الرواية التي تصدر عن وزارة الداخلية—ولعل الفارق الوحيد بين وزارة الداخلية في عصر مبارك وفي عصر ما بعد الثورة هو أنها صارت تحرص على إغراقنا بالمعلومات، التي عادة ما تكون منفصلة تماما عن الواقع. ومع تكرار هذا النوع من الصدامات، وتكرار تبريرات الجهاز الاعلامي لوزارة الداخلية، يصعب على المرء تصديق هذه الرواية. وحتى وإن أحسن النية بالشرطة بدون الوصول الي استنتاج بأن الشعب المصري قد أصابه وباء ما يجعله يهاجم الشرطة ويقطع الطرق العمومية بصفة مستمرة وبدون سبب. أما مواقف المسؤولين في حكومة الإخوان من الذين يعملون على ملف الأمن والعدالة الجنائية—ما بين وزارة العدل والفريق الرئاسي—فيما يتعلق بارتفاع وتيرة العنف الشرطي بصورة غير مسبوقة وحالة المواجهات المستمرة فكانت أقرب الى عدم الاكتراث. فهم، خاصة فيما يتعلق بسياق العمل الشرطي العادي، لا يريدون التدخل على الإطلاق—لأنهم حريصون على ترك مساحة كافية للشرطة من أجل "استعادة هيبتها" ولكن خارج مجال الصراع السياسي المباشر. فقط في سياق المظاهرات ذات الطابع السياسي الصريح، حيث سقوط الضحايا أصبح له ثمن أغلى، قد يثير الوضع انتباه الرئاسة والحكومة.

ومن المهم التنويه بأن مهندسي العلاقة بين حكومة الإخوان ووزارة الداخلية هم القانونيون المحسوبون على التيار "الثوري" داخل الحكومة ومنهم من كانوا ينتمون إلى تيار قضاة الاستقلال في عصر مبارك: فوزير العدل أحمد مكي بدأ مهامه الوزارية بكتابة مشروع قانون جديد للطوارئ بعد انتهاء حالة الطوارئ المستمرة منذ ثلاثين عاما، وأدعى في بداية الأمر انه لا ينوي الدفع به، ثم حاول الدفع به بعد ذلك وفشل. وبعدها خرجت علينا وزارة الداخليةبستة مشاريع قانونية مرة واحدةتعطي رجالها صلاحيات استثنائية في الأسبوع الأول من سبتمبر أكثرها إثارة للجدل سمي بقانون حماية المجتمع من "الخطرين"، بالإضافة الى قانون لتقييد حرية التظاهر والإضراب وتعديلات على مواد في قانون العقوبات لتصبح أكثر غلظة.وعندما تسربت هذه المشاريع آثر الرئيس وقتذاك—وهو الذي يملك سلطة التشريع في غياب البرلمان — تفادي الصدام فتجاهلهم، رغم دفاع الوزير مكي عن حزمة قوانين وزير الداخلية إيماناً منه بأن رجل الشرطة يحتاج الى تلك الصلاحيات من أجل استعادة قدرته على الضبط المجتمعي، ثم حاول بعد ذلك أن يطرح فكرة تمرير تلك التشريعات الاستثنائية تحت مسميات مختلفة. وبعد هذا بشهر واحد أشيع أن مجلس الوزراء بصدد اعداد قانون "لحماية مكتسبات الثورة" مشابه للقانون سيئ السمعة الذي صاغته وزارة الداخلية، ولكن وزير الشؤون القانونية محمد محسوب نفى ذلك (والأرجح أنه تراجع وأن الاشاعة لم تكن خاطئة تماماً). وأخيراً وبعد محاولات عدة كان أول القوانين الصادرة بموجب الاعلان الدستوري الأخير هو قانون تأسيس نيابة حماية الثورة والذييعطيها صلاحية التحقيق في جرائم النشر والإضرابات والتظاهر وتعطيل المواصلات والاعتداء على السلطات (حاول الوزير أحمد مكي مجدداً الدفع بقانون لتقييد حرية التظاهر أعلن عنه في مؤتمر صحفي بتاريخ 26 نوفمبر ولكنه لم ينجح حتى الأن).

اذن فالتحالف القائم بين رئيس الدولة وحكومته وقيادات الأجهزة الأمنية تحالف استراتيجي قائم على سعيهم جميعا إلى "استعادة هيبة الدولة" (أي قدرتها على القمع  والسيطرة الاجتماعية) من أجل إعادة إحكام قبضة الدولة على الفئات المهمشة التي زادت مطالبها وثقتها في قدرتها على التحرك في الشارع وفي المجال العام.  فأكثر ما تكرهه الدولة المصرية بملوك طوائفها المتعددة هو فقدانها للسيطرة على المجال العام. وأرى أن هذا التحالف ليس مهدداً بالدرجة التي تسمح بانهياره بعد، ولكن فلنقل أن في حالات الصدام السياسي بين فئات شعبية متنوعة وبين الحكومة الاخوانية، ومع ارتفاع وتيرة العنف السياسي والسخط الموجه ضد الحزب الحاكم مباشرة تحدث ارتباكات في هذا الاصطفاف السلطوي الطائفي الطبع، وتبدأ بعض التناقضات في الظهور، وقد تتحول الى شروخ في المستقبل غير البعيد إذا حاول الحزب الحاكم الدفع بجهاز الشرطة لمواجهة أو قمع معارضين سياسيين وهو الدور الذي لم تعد تقوى عليه ولن تستطيع أن تمارسه وهي منهكة في محاولات فرض السيطرة الاجتماعية.

كيف تصرف رجل الشرطة المتواجد في الشارع منذ بدء الاحتجاجات التي أعقبت إصدار الاعلان الدستوري؟ لقد تزامنت هذه الأحداث في بداياتها مع مظاهرات استهدفت جهاز الشرطة نفسه وكان مكانها هو محيط وزارة الداخلية بالقاهرة في الذكرى الأولى لاحتجاجات محمد محمود، وهي الذكرى المرشحة للتحول إلى موسم للاشتباك مع وزارة الداخلية في غياب أي نوع من أنوع العدالة والمحاسبة على جرائم القتل وطالما بقى جهاز الشرطة بدون أي تغيير. أنماط التدخل الشرطي في هذه المظاهرات، والمقارنة بينها وبين تدخلها في الاحتجاجات السياسية الأخرى التي لا تستهدف الشرطة مباشرة خاصة عندما تتحول الى مواجهات عنيفة بين الأهالي، تعكس ضعف وتفكك تلك الطائفة تفتقد الى شرعية حقيقية ولكنها تملك مصالح تحاول الحفاظ عليها. على مدى أكثر من عشرة أيام  ما بين الاثنين 19 نوفمبر والخميس 29 نوفمبر—اشتبكت الشرطة مع الثوار في مظاهرات قتل فيها 3 أشخاص. وبعد إصدار الاعلان الدستوري يوم 22 نوفمبر بدأت موجة من الاحتجاجات التي صاحبها عنف أهلي واعتداءات على مقر الحزب الحاكم—الحرية والعدالة — وكان هذا بالتزامن مع استمرار المظاهرات في محيط وزارة الداخلية. فعلى مدى الأسابيع الثلاثة الماضية وقعت اشتباكات أهلية وتعرضت مقرات الحرية والعدالة للهجومفي القاهرة والإسكندرية ومحافظات والبحيرة والغربية وبورسعيد والإسماعيلية والسويس وقام المتظاهرون بقطع السكك الحديدية في دمنهور. وكان رد فعل الشرطة متبايناً ولم يتبع نسقاً واحداً. ففي عدد من الحالات وقفوا للمشاهدة أو اختفوا تماما وفي أحيان أخرى تدخلوا للتفريق بين المتظاهرين، وعندما كانوا يستشعرون القوة كانوا يلقون القبض على المتظاهرين المعارضين ويطلقون الغاز لإبعادهم. في الأسبوع الأول من المواجهات في مدينة المحلة وفي وجود أعداد ضخمة على الجانبين آثر رجال الشرطة سلامة أنفسهم، ثم وبعد أن زادت حدة المواجهات تدخلوا واستخدموا القوة وهو ما أدى إلى انتقال الاشتباك مع الأهالى إلى قسمي شرطة المحلة الاول والثاني يوم 30 نوفمبر.أما في الاسكندرية حيث وقعت مواجهات عنيفة مشابهة أيام 23 و24 نوفمبر وفي هذه الأثناء تعاونت الشرطة بصورة لصيقة مع أعضاء حزب الحرية والعدالة الحاكم وسمحت لهم باستخدام مدرعات الأمن المركزي لاحتجاز الأفراد الذين قام أعضاء الحزب باعتقالهم من المتظاهرين ولم تتدخل لوقف الاعتداءات الجسدية عليهم ثم قامت بنقلهم الى مديرية أمن الإسكندرية، وهو ما رواه أكثر من شخص من الذين تم اعتقالهم—أحد هؤلاء الأشخاص من المنتمين لحزب مصر القوية المحسوب على التيار الاسلامي الوسطي وصفهم في شهادته بأنهم كانوا "أشبه بشركة أمن خاصة استأجرها أعضاء الحرية والعدالة". 

أما في الاشتباكات التي وقعت خارج قصر الاتحادية فحدث ولا حرج عن دور جهاز الشرطة—الذي انتقدته قيادات الاخوان واتهمته بالتخاذل. فرغم أن الشرطة لم تكن طرفاً في المواجهات، إلا في القليل من الأحيان التي قامت فيها باطلاق الغاز على المتظاهرين المعارضين—إلا أنها لعبت دوراً رئيسياً في تأمين وجود مؤيدي الرئيس حول قصر الاتحادية وسمحت للمؤيدين باحتجاز وتعذيب العشرات من المعارضين خارج بوابة قصر الرئاسة (كان هذا يحدث تحت سمع وبصر رجال الأمن المركزي والمباحث الجنائية وقوات الحرس الجمهوري). ومن اللافت للنظر أن الشرطة كانت تتسلم المعارضين المعتقلين من أعضاء الحرية والعدالة وكأنهم يملكون صفة الضبطية القضائية (بضعهم تم تسليمهم  الى قسم شرطة مصر الجديدة والبعض الآخر تسلمته الشرطة مباشرة من أماكن الاحتجاز التي استحدثها المؤيدون بجوار قصر الاتحادية). بل وقد قامت باستلامهم وهم في حالة تُظهِر بوضوح أنهم تعرضوا لتعذيب وضرب شديد، ولم تتصرف الشرطة حينذاك بمنطق رجل الشرطة الحيادي والذي كان يستوجب التحفظ على الشخص الذي قام بتسليم المعارضين للاشتباه في أنه قام بالتعدي بالضرب على مواطن آخر واحتجازه واستجوابه وتفتيشه وهي أشياء كلها لا تجوز لرجال السلطة العامة حتى من الذين لا يحملون صفة الضبط القضائي. فقد تعاملت الشرطة كما اعتادت في هذه الحالة على أنها أداة لتنفيذ ارادة الحزب الحاكم. والأكثر دلالة هو أن مأمور قسم مصر الجديدة لم يصر على إثبات هوية الأشخاص الذين قاموا بتسليم المعتقلين الواقع عليهم التعذيب — يتضح هذا من نص المحضر (رقم 11228 بتاريخ 6 ديسمبر 2012) الذي أثبتت فيه شرطة قسم مصر الجديدة القبض على 70 إلى جهة غير معلومة" كما يذكر المحضر وكأن مأمور القسم ليس له سلطان عليهم.

لا تنفي أي من الأمثلة التي استعرضناها أعلاه ودلالاتها العوامل الأخرى التي قد تؤثر  على عمل رجال الشرطة، ومنها العامل الشخصي: بعض ضباط الشرطة على مستوى الشارع قد تدفعهم انحيازاتهم الشخصية وتاريخ طويل من الحشد المعنوي داخل جهاز الشرطة ضد الإخوان للتصرف بطرق مغايرة أو على الأقل بلا مبالاة في حالات الاشتباكات. والعامل الأهم من ذلك وهو أن جهاز الشرطة جهاز ضخم (يزيد عدد العاملين بوزارة الداخلية عن مليون شخص) ومفكك وفي ظل استمرار التخبط والتفكك البيروقراطي في مصر تصعب السيطرة الكاملة على جهاز بهذا الحجم كان ومازال يدار بمركزية شديدة لم تعد مجدية مع انتشار وتشعب ولامركزية الحراك الاجتماعي والثوري. كما أن هناك اعتباراً ثالثاً وهو أن رجال الشرطة في مصر غير مهنيين وغير مدربين بشكل كاف وهو ما لم يكن ظاهراً بوضوح للبعض قبل الثورة ولكنه ليس بأمر جديد. 

وتوجد استثناءات لهذه الحالة التي أقدر أنها الحالة الأعم. لكن حتى في هذه الحالات الاستثنائية والتي تتدخل فيها الشرطة ويبدو عليها قدر من الحيادية، يصعب تحديداً فهم ما يدور بخلد الضباط والجنود المتواجدين على الأرض. من هذه الحالات الاشتباكات التي دامت لمدة يوم كامل تقريبا يوم 14 ديسمبر، عشية الاستفتاء، في الإسكندرية خارج مسجد القائد ابراهيم بعد أن أثارت الخطبة التي ألقاها الشيخ المحلاوي جدلاً ونقاشاً عنيفا، وتسببت في اصابة 23 شخصاً ما بين كسور وجروح واختناقات من الغاز. فقد تدخلت الشرطة (بعد تأخر طويل) وصنعت كردوناً أمنياً فصل بين المتواجدين داخل وخارج المسجد واستخدمت الغاز للتفريق مع إصرار المتجمهرين خارج المسجد على القبض على بعض مؤيدي الشيخ المحلاوي الذين اتهموهم باحتجاز وتعذيب أربعة من المصلين، في حين حاولت قيادات الشرطة التفاوض مع الطرفين ودفع هذا الموقف الطرفين إلى عدم الثقة بنوايا القوة الأمنية التي جاءت للتدخل. 

وبغض النظر عما إذا كانت هناك دوافع خفية أو لا فتظل هذه الحالات استثنائية في تقديري. الدفاع عن السلطة مسألة عقيدية بالنسبة لرجال الشرطة ولكنه يصبح أكثر صعوبة عندما يترجم إلى دفاع عن مقرات الكيان الحزبي الممثل للسلطة، فتقوم الشرطة بهذه المهمة اذا استطاعت إلى ذلك سبيلاً وتفضل الانكفاء على نفسها والتعامل بمنطق الطائفة عندما يصبح الأمر فيه تهديدات مباشرة لحياتها. وبطبيعة الحال لن يستميت رجال الشرطة للدفاع عن مقرات الحزب المنتشرة في ربوع البلاد كما يفعلون أمام وزارة الداخلية. ولكن كل هذه الاعتبارات لا تغلب على الشراكة المصيرية التي تجمعها رؤية مشتركة محافظة للدولة. وبعد أخذ ما تقدم من شرح لتطور العلاقة منذ انتخاب الرئيس مرسي في الاعتبار وفي ظل التعاون الذي ظهر بين الشرطة ومؤيدي الرئيس يوم الأربعاء، الخامس من ديسمبر، كيف يمكن فهم  تصريحات جهاد الحدادأو تصريح عصام العريانالقيادي الإخواني والذي اتهم الشرطة بالتقاعس قائلاً "لن يتراجع الرئيس،وإذا كانت أجهزة الدولة ضعيفة ومثخنة بجراح الفترة السابقة، فالشعب يقدر على فرض إرادته وحماية الشرعية .أعضاء الحزب سيكونون فى مقدمة الصفوف إن شاء الله"؟ هناك احتمال أن يكون منبئاً بصدام مستقبلي مع قيادات الشرطة ومع شخص وزير الداخلية نفسه—هذا إذا كانت بعض قيادات الجماعة تريد للشرطة أن تعود للعب دور أكثر وضوحاً في القمع السياسي. وهو بكل شك صدام لا يريده أرباب الطائفة الشرطية ولكنهم في نفس الوقت يخشون التورط بصورة أكثر وضوحا في المعارك السياسية. وهناك تفسير آخر لهذا النوع من التصريحات وهو التفسير الذي أميل إليه يراه على أنه مجرد حجة لتبرير العنف الأهلي الذي يبدو أن الرئيس وحزبه ينوون اللجوء إليه من أجل تعزيز حكمهم في الفترة المقبلة.

"لمتتممحاكمةمديرالأمنمعكلقادةالداخليةكماكنتأتخيلفورنجاحالثورة،بلحدثالعكستماماً،فقدأصبحهذااللواءتحديداً.... هوأولوزيرللداخليةفيعهدسيادةرئيسالثورةمحمدمرسي!" – منمقالةالعضوالسابقبجماعةالاخوانالمسلمينمحمدأبوالغيط"فيانتظارنهايةالعالم".

[The following video is part of a series of clips produced by the Mosireen collective to promote greater awareness around the draft constitution currently under consideration in national referendum in Egypt. The full series can be accessed by clicking here.]

In response to a government-sponsored campaign to promote the draft constitution currently under consideration in a national referendum, Fatma Ramadan, the Vice President of the Federation of Independent Trade Unions and Ahmad Sayed Al-Naggar, economist at Al-Ahram Center for Political and Strategic Studies, talk about what this document could mean for Egyptian workers.

Al-Naggar and Ramadan argue that the government campaign’s assertion that the draft constitution, if passed, would protect the social and economic rights of Egyptian workers is misleading.

The new constitution does not set a minimum wage, but rather ties wages to productivity, which means that wages would be sensitive to shifts in market prices of production goods. In reality, this means that if production were brought to a halt for any reason, workers would bear the costs in the form of diminished wages. For example, under this constitution, if trains were to stop working, owners of a factory could leave their workers without pay.

While the draft constitutions stipulates a “maximum wage” per long-standing, widespread demands in Egypt, it only does so in the public sector, and provides a clause that allows the state to issue exemptions. This means that a maximum wage will be effectively nonexistent.

While the document guarantees healthcare for “the poor,” it grants the state the discretion to define who constitutes “the poor,” which could deprive vast portions of low-income households from the right to healthcare. The wording of the draft constitution, they argue, force members of underprivileged communities to obtain a humiliating “certificate of poverty” from the state in order to receive treatment.

The draft constitution stipulates that unions can be dissolved if they break the law. In practice, this means the state could criminalize entire unions for violations committed by individual members.

For more details, please watch the video below (click “CC” for English subtitles).  

[The following statement was issued on 19 December 2012 by a group of Columbia University professors in response to recent comments by the newly appointed chancellor of the University of California, Berkeley, Nicholas Dirks, wherein he equated the criticism of Israel with anti-Semitism.]

A recent interview conducted by UC Berkeley’s Public Relations office and timed with the appointment of the new university Chancellor, Nicholas Dirks, begins, “Floating around the Internet is a claim that at some point in your past... you signed a petition for Columbia to divest in all things Israel.” The interviewer asks the Chancellor-designate to clarify his role. But let us be clear: this is not a question. It is a demand. We live in political climate in which robust and critical speech about the policies of the Israeli state is becoming ever more difficult. Its proponents are subjected to myriad forms of harassment in an effort to shut down such speech. If one wants to be a powerful public figure, the interviewer is effectively saying to Dirks, distance yourself from that petition.

Unfortunately, Dirks responds by doing precisely what is demanded of him. He does not clarify that the Columbia University petition did not call for divestment from “all things Israel,” but instead from companies that manufacture or sell arms or other military hardware utilized by Israel, in violation of US law, against the civilian populations of the Gaza Strip and the West Bank. He does not say that he did sign the petition, but, as he might have argued, that once he became an administrator he recognized he had to play a different role, one that protects all political speech on campus, regardless of his own personal convictions, and thus that he chose to withdraw his signature. Instead, he declares that somehow his name appeared on the petition and that he asked for it to be removed.

That is not all: Dirks goes much further. He offers a description of Columbia in 2002 as a time in which broader “controversies” over the question of Israel and Palestine developed. He narrates those controversies in the voice of the off-campus Jewish neo-conservative groups (Campus Watch, the David Project, to name the main provocateurs) who spearheaded a sustained attack against his own colleagues, who were faculty members in the Middle East field. The David Project produced a film, Columbia Unbecoming, that instigated Columbia’s supposedly “internal” investigation. Parroting their perspective in his interview, Dirks notes that it was a climate in which “it seemed very difficult for some [Jewish] students to find safe spaces in which to talk about Israel where they didn’t feel that the basic context in which they found themselves wasn’t hugely not just anti-Israel, but by implication, anti-Jewish and anti-Semitic.” His is a brilliant rhetorical move, an account of how some Jewish students supposedly “felt.” In providing no other perspective on the “controversy,” however, Dirks allows the contention that criticism of Israel’s policies is, “by implication, anti-Jewish and anti-Semitic” to stand as a simple matter of fact.

In purveying this false account, Dirks rewrites the history of the conflict at Columbia. The reality, in contrast, was one in which most members of the faculty and many students argued that baseless accusations of anti-Semitism were being wielded in an effort to curtail academic freedom and free speech. Moreover, Dirks rewrites the “conclusion” to that so-called controversy. No action was taken against any professors precisely because 1) the Committee that he himself appointed, and that he speaks of in the interview, found no evidence that any members of the faculty had ever done or said anything that could be reasonably construed as anti-Semitic, and 2) the Columbia faculty stood overwhelmingly behind the principles of academic freedom that were threatened by these malicious accusations.

Dirks’ response is disturbing not just for how it distorts the past. It is perhaps even more alarming for what it portends for the future. The new Chancellor of UC Berkeley is walking into a situation in which the California State Assembly has passed a non binding resolution that equates defense of Palestinian rights and criticism of the policies of the state of Israel with anti-Semitism (Resolution HR 35). He is walking into an institutional context in which his boss, the president of the University of California system, was apparently involved in commenting on and drafting that very same bill [see Center for Constitutional Rights letter to UC President Yudof]. He is walking into a political reality in which several Title VI cases are pending against schools in the UC system, accusing them of fostering a “hostile” learning environment for Jewish students. He is taking charge of a campus in which Arab, Muslim and other students advocating for Palestinian rights are being targeted by specific Zionist activist groups for creating a “campus climate” that is “anti-Semitic and hostile to Jewish students” (see CCR letter to UC President Yudof).

This was a moment for the incoming Chancellor of UC Berkeley to stand on principle. Criticizing the policies of the state of Israel that violate Palestinian human and political rights, or advocating in favor of a boycott and divestment campaign, he might have said, is political speech, not hate speech. Dirks could have risen to the occasion and said that even if he is personally opposed to the divestment campaign it is nevertheless a matter that we must be able to discuss. For that matter, he could have said that even if he, as the incoming Chancellor of Berkeley, disagrees with critics of Israel’s policies, their speech is nevertheless legitimate, even necessary speech. Dirks should have said that what is at stake are fundamental democratic principles—not just academic freedom but free speech itself.

Nadia Abu El-Haj
Lila Abu-Lughod
Gil Anidjar
Rashid Khalidi
Brinkley Messick
James Schamus