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Last Week on Jadaliyya (Jan 28- Feb 3)

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

 


Iraq’s Hackerspace

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[The following article was originally published on Tadween Publishing's blog. For more information on the publishing world as it relates to pedagogy and knowledge production, follow Tadween Publishing on Facebook and Twitter.]

Faced with Iraq’s rival politics, one group based in Baghdad is seeking change by promoting collaboration and entrepreneurship through public spaces.

Fikra Space, based on the Arabic word fikra meaning “idea,” finds its roots in hackerspaces, which act as physical places where members of a community, usually involved in some way with technology, meet and discuss ideas and their work. The idea of hackerspaces originated in Germany in the 1990s and later became popular across Europe and the United States.

Fikra Space describes itself as an “open place where people with common interests—often in computers, technology, science, art and anything else—can meet, socialize, share their knowledge, build new things or make use of existing things, make workshops and collaborate.”

According to an article on CNN, Fikra Space’s endorsement of a public space meeting point intends to promote collaboration and entrepreneurship with the hope of helping solve some of the country’s current problems. Along with providing physical space in the office of a local journalism institute for community members to organize, Fikra Space provides electronic equipment and devices for members to use.

The group was founded by Bilal Ghalib, who stresses the importance of having an open space, like that which Fikra Space provides, for communities in the Middle East.

Fikra Space provides a physical location for anyone, no matter their background or education, to join in the exchange of ideas and projects relating to technology. Fikra Space is accessible to anyone and requires only involvement in the promotion of collaboration across barriers and obstacles, a concept that might otherwise be prevented if there were preconditions to membership.

"How do you look into the future and see your (hand) in it?" asked Bilal Ghalib in the CNN interview. "That's what entrepreneurship is, putting control back into your hands and letting you create what you want to see and make a living doing it."

With Fikra Space, Bilal Ghalib and other participants are making access to problem solving in Iraq open to all who would like to be part of the process. Although in the context of hackerspace it may be limited to technology and its subcategories, promoting the idea of making the exchange of ideas accessible to everyone opens the doors to the free exchange of thought and information.

Fikra Space is not the only Middle East–based hackerspace. In Beirut, another group, known as Lamba Labs, boasts that it has become Lebanon’s first hackerspace. Lamba Labs states that its space is funded by the community in order to “facilitate the sharing of skills, and to contain specialized tools and expertise together in a single location.”

For more information on Fikra Space, visit its Facebook page. For more information on Lamba Labs, visit its website.

Egypt Media Roundup (February 4)

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[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.] 

“1 dead, scores injured on Egypt's 'Friday of Deliverance'"
Clashes erupt at the presidential palace as political forces blame each other for the violence.

“Update: One reported dead as police fire tear gas, birdshot at protesters”
Clashes continue between protesters and police at Simon Bolivar Square.

“Update: Protesters decry Brotherhood in Giza; clashes break out downtown"
Clashes near Tahrir between police and protesters start again, as people gather in front of the Giza Governorate to protest against the president.

“Police drag protester, strip him naked”
After police were caught on camera brutally stripping and beating a protester, the Ministry of Interior promises to launch an investigation of the case.

“Victim of Egyptian police torture says 'officers were helping me'”
The victim accuses protesters of attacking him, while receiving treatment in a police hospital for his injuries.

“New CSF girl-assault video provokes anger”
The Egyptian police authorities deny that the person in the video is a female.

“Morsy condemns protesters for violence at the palace”
The president condemns violent protests at the presidential palace, as the National Salvation Front declares that it is not behind the organization of the demonstrations.

“We've failed to meet youth demands: Egypt's PM Qandil”
Hisham Qandil acknowledges that the government has not been able to fulfill the demands of young Egyptians.

“In pictures – Protests in North Sinai"
Opposition parties rally residents of Al-Arish in a protest against the president and the Muslim Brotherhood.

“Address, not condemn, the reasons for violence”
Ibrahim El-Houdaiby argues that both the ruling party and the opposition are mishandling the unstable situation in Egypt.

“Will Egypt Reach a Consensus?”
Nervana Mahmoud says there are three scenarios before Egypt: consensus, coup, or collapse.

“Prosecutor general denies Brotherhood relationship”
Talaat Abdallah denies rumors of his connections to the Islamist organization.

“Swiss court rejects request to repatriate Egyptian funds"
Swiss court refuses an Egyptian request to repatriate former regime officials’ funds, but the Swiss government promises to draft a new law making it possible for such a procedure.

“Court unfreezes assets of Ahmed Ezz's family”
Criminal court lifts freeze on Ezz family assets and travel bans.

“Adly sentenced to three years in 'forced labor' case”
Former minister of interior receives a jail sentence for forcing security recruits to work for him privately.

“The Republic of Port Said”
The civil disobedience in the canal cities is the most important test for the Egyptian president’s ability to control the country, writes Evan Hill.

“Egypt presidency unveils plan for constitutional modifications”
The president announces a committee which will review controversial articles of the new constitution and propose amendments.

“At Berlin presser, President Morsi plays down anti-Jew rhetoric”
After meeting with Kanzler Angela Merkel, the Egyptian president says his anti-Jewish comments from 2010 were taken out of context.

“Can the IMF Loan Rescue Egypt’s Economy?”
Peter Volkmar explores the consequences of accepting an IMF loan and alternative ways to stabilize Egypt’s economy.

“In turnaround, Baradei calls for dialogue with presidency”
After refusing to attend the national dialogue initiative by the president, opposition leader says there’s a need for a meeting between the government and the opposition.

“Salafist Nour Party, NSF call for unity government”
Al-Nour Party and the National Salvation Front propose a plan to end the current crisis in the country.

 

In Arabic:

“غضـب في صـفوف ضــباط وجــنود الأمـن المركزي”
More than a thousand officers and soldiers in the Central Security forces refuse to follow orders after complaining about lack of adequate equipment to fulfill their duties of riot control.

“نَحُّوهُم.. حاسِبوهم.. حاكمُوهم”
Ahmed Tagi accuses both the forces in power and in opposition for failing to stop the bloodshed on the streets of Egypt.

“إنها أرواح لا أجوال يا ألتراس”
Reem Saad argues that the death penalty has to be suspended until Egypt develops a fair judiciary system that provides objective justice to the accused.

“«النيابة» تنفي رفض «عز والمغربي وجرانه» التصالح في قضايا المال العام”
The prosecution denies offering legal deals to former regime officials accused of embezzlement of public funds.

“حيثيات عدم قبول "الدستورية" لدعوى الختان: لا دليل على تعرض "إناث المدعين" لضرر"
The Constitutional Court rules against scrapping a law which criminalizes female circumcision.

“قوة ضد التحرش”
Wael Abd El-Fattah says everyone is guilty of sexual harassment through silence, denial or ignoring of the problem.

“''ابنة الشاطر'' توجه رسالة تحذير لـ ''بكار'' بعد هجومه على الإخوان”
Khairat Al-Shater’s daughter attacks the speaker of Al-Nour Party Nader Baker for criticizing the Muslim Brotherhood.

“صفوت عبدالغنى: رفضنا لبعض قرارات مرسي ليست دعوي لإسقاطه أوانقلابا على الإخوان ولكن لتصحيح المسار”
Sfwat Abd El-Ghani, leader of the Building and Development Party, the political arm of Gamaa Al-Islamiya, says criticism of the president’s decision is not calling for his downfall.

 

Recent Jadaliyya articles on Egypt:

This Is A Mass Sexual Assault . . . We Will Resist (Video)
A video produced by OPANTISH, a new initiative to combat mass sexual harassment, which shows how their task force saves a girl at Tahrir Square.

هل يعود العسكر لحكم مصر من بوابة قناة السويس؟
Ismail Alexandrani looks into who benefits from the violence and unstable situation in the Canal cities.

الشباب والثورة: فقدان الوجهة
Muhammad Alaraby says that old political elites have managed to take control of the youth movements of the revolution and contain them.

The Opposition’s Lost Bet on the Economic Crisis
Amr Adly argues that the opposition’s hopes for political gains from the current economic crisis are miscalculated. 

"May in the Summer": 2013 Sundance Review

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Written and directed by Cherien Dabis, May in the Summer -- which opened the 2013 U.S. Dramatic Competition of the Sundance Film Festival -- is a disarmingly humorous, sharply observed and deeply affecting story about a Palestinian-American writer, May, who returns to her childhood home in Jordan in preparation for her summertime wedding. Distinct from the well worn immigrant narratives familiar to American independent film, May in the Summer charts terrain rarely explored on screen: the emotional impact of building a life across multiple geographies -- especially when the promise of return to one's homeland continues unfulfilled.


[May (Cherien Dabis) and Yasmine (Nadine Malouf) in “May in the Summer.” Photo Credit:  Brian Rigney Hubbard.]

Soon after her sisters Dalia and Yasmine welcome May home, glee transforms into a tense familial dynamic -- a remnant of a traumatic divorce between their parents that May, as the eldest, had to mediate alone. With impending nuptials on her mind, May can no longer be the stable rock on which her family has relied. Despite being a successful author and having an adoring fiancé, May finds herself struggling to admit what she wants, and to say what she means. Amidst bridal fittings and bachelorette parties, May must learn how to become vulnerable enough to build a future on her own terms, unhinged from parental, societal, and political expectations. 


[May (Cherien Dabis) and Nadine (Hiam Abbass) in “May in the Summer.”  Photo Credit:  Brian Rigney Hubbard.]

A writer, director and now actress, Dabis is a "triple-threat" of talent with an uncanny ability to emotionally engage the political aspects of everyday life with a universally accessible sense of humor and levity. Evidenced in her widely acclaimed 2008 short film Make a Wish and 2009 debut feature film Amreeka, Dabis's directorial acumen enlivens ensemble performances between multiple characters whose conflicts evolve through their deep affection for one another. May in the Summer marks Dabis' first time in front of the camera as an actress. A magnetic and illuminating presence on screen, Dabis fills the intricate contours of a complex character, while also eliciting nuanced and powerful performances so honest one can't help but laugh from co-stars Hiam Abbass (The Visitor, Amreeka, Lemon Tree), Alia Shawkat (Arrested Development, Amreeka), Bill Pullman (Independence Day) and Nadine Malouf. Dabis' writing deftly layers politics between folds of the intimate to reveal profound questions: How does past trauma sneak its way into the present moment? How can the future allow space for the past, but also inspire a present that can grow without anticipation or fear? 

In one scene, May and her sister Dalia are relaxing in the buoyant Dead Sea. They reflect on the proximity of Palestine -- so close they could swim there if the water wasn't littered with deadly mines. This is the first moment in the film where May confronts her hesitations about her future wedding aloud.

Later, a poolside argument between all three sisters is capped with embarrassing declaration (I am not a lesbian!), and then immediately followed by a fighter jet booming overhead toward Palestine. Rather than being convenient juxtapositions to eek political gravitas into a situation -- or throw "first world" problems into relief -- these situations are clever narrative devices Dabis uses to connect May's inner restlessness with the fragmentation manifest in her family, her feelings for her fiancé and her relationship with Palestine. Long shots of Wadi Rum and the Dead Sea breathe oxygen into the arc of May's character, as a Palestinian woman, living between geographies and raised in exile for a generation. The film begins with May in the air, and ends with her standing firmly outside her mother's house facing the sprawling Amman cityscape. 

[May (Cherien Dabis) in “May in the Summer.”  Photo Credit:  Thierry Van Biesen.] 

With a keen sense of place and attention to land -- a point of commonality across Palestinian cinema -- Dabis forges new ground in American film with May in the Summer. Displacing the centrality of the United States within immigrant narratives, Dabis visually investigates the disorientation of diaspora with a deliberately lighthearted storytelling style. While Sundance is often criticized for making obvious film selections, some responses to May in the Summer beg the question of whether the industry is willing to recognize a familiar voice that tells a different story. Parochial reviews, for example, insist on gauging the film's success on the slapstick potential of "ethnic customs" and "culture clashes." One reviewer unwittingly revealed his own racist investments when he wrote that the funniest moment was an early remark by May's sister Yasmine referring to women who wear burkas as "ninjas" (a comment he wrongly attributes to May, but which Dalia promptly chastises Yasmine for being offensive). More disturbing still is the intensely gendered criticism that reared its way into much of the writing about films by female directors featured this year at Sundance. Reviewers felt entitled to comment on Dabis' appearance in crass ways, while simultaneously taking issue with the story's focus on female characters (bemoaning the groom's absence), and then lazily judging the film according to Hollywood conventions of "chick-flicks" or "wedding romps." 

But this is just another instance of how critics who fail to step outside their own worldviews risk overlooking a fresh direction in American independent film. Audiences, on the other hand, have already been receiving the film well and will continue to be ready for the provocations, clarity and insights found throughout May in the Summer

Produced by Cherien Dabis, Alix Madigan-Yorkin, Christopher Tricarico. Executive producers, Ritu Singh Pande, Rick Rosenthal, Nicholas Morton. Co-producers, Sabine Sidawi Hamdan, Alexandre Mallet-Guy, Joy Goodwin, Beau J. Genot. Directed, written by Cherien Dabis. Starring: Cherien Dabis, Alia Shawkat, Nadine Malouf, Ritu Singh Pande, Hiam Abbass, Alexander Siddig, Bill Pullman, Elie Mitri. (English, Arabic dialogue)

 

Popularly Elected Apartheid

Syria Monthly Edition on Jadaliyya (January 2013)

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[This is a monthly archive of pieces written by Jadaliyya contributors and editors on Syria. It also includes material published on other platforms that editors deemed pertinent to post as they provide diverse depictions of Syria-related topics. The pieces reflect the level of critical analysis and diversity that Jadaliyya strives for, but the views are solely the ones of their authors. If you are interested in contributing to Jadaliyya, send us your post with your bio and a release form to post@jadaliyya.com [click "Submissions" on the main page for more information]

Month-by-Month Summary of Developments in Syria (Updated)A report compiled by the International Crisis Group

Syria Media Roundup (January 31) Weekly collection of pertinent articles published on Syria in various outlets.

"انتصارالـ "ميتا – خطاب" على سوريا وعدم ارتباطه بها: "رحنا ضحيّةTranslation of Bassam Haddad's article on the detachment of analysts and writers outside Syria from the real situation and grievances on the ground.

Syria and the United States: Jadaliyya Co-Editor Bassam Haddad on Al-Jazeera's "Empire"

January 2013 Culture Jadaliyya’s culture bouquet featuring paintings as well as poems and texts translated from Arabic.

A Leopard in Winter: An Interview with Syrian Director Nabil Maleh

Syria's Kurds: A Struggle Within a Struggle International Crisis Group’s recommendations to the various actors influencing the Kurdish affairs in northern Syria.

The Gendered Body Public: Egypt, Sexual Violence and Revolution

Toronto Event: Photo Auction: Once I Was Here: Benefit for Syrian Refugees (31 January 2013)

First Jordanian Elections post Arab Uprisings; Challenges of Reporting from Syria

Syria Media Roundup (January 24) Weekly collection of pertinent articles published on Syria in various outlets.

تزييفُ الوعي وتطييفُ التاريخ في سياقات الثورة السوريّةBasileus Zino writes about political sectarianism in the context of the Syrian revolution. 

"Business Networks in Syria": Jadaliyya Co-Editor Bassam Haddad on C-Span Book TV

Syria Media Roundup (January 17) Weekly collection of pertinent articles published on Syria in various outlets.

باقة ورد للأحياءSahar Abdullah writes poems for Syria.

Syria Media Roundup (January 10) Weekly collection of pertinent articles published on Syria in various outlets.

Tamerlane in DamascusZayde Antrim writes: “whether invoking the name Timur today conjures specters of conquest and occupation, illegitimacy and shame, or heresy and sectarianism, its power lies in a centuries-old collective memory of vulnerability.”

Translation of Statements Made by Minister of Electricity Gebran Bassile and MP Nayla Tueni Maya Mikdashi says “the statements issued by Minister Bassile and by MP Nayla Tueni are lessons in xenophobia and demographic paranoia.”

Syria Media Roundup (January 3) Weekly collection of pertinent articles published on Syria in various outlets.

شاهد عيان

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فيما يلي شهادتي باعتباري شاهد عيان لاعتداء ضباط قوات الأمن على متظاهر تم تجريده من ملابسه بالكامل مساء الجمعة، بالقرب من القصر الجمهوري.  وأعلم أن الكثيرين منكم قد شاهدوا الشريط المصور، الذي التقط خفية، وعلى الرغم من ذلك أرجو قراءة شهادتي:

كنت في ذلك المساء أقف في شرفة البيت، التي تطل على شارع الميرغني بالقرب من مقهى كوستا، وأراقب هجوم قوات الأمن المركزي على المتظاهرين وهم يحاولون الفرار إلى الشوارع الجانبية في ضاحية مصر الجديدة (هليوبوليس). كانت الجموع تحاول الهرب من قوات الأمن المركزي، عالية التسلح، والتي بدأت تلاحقهم راجلة. وفرت لي الإضاءة في شارع الميرغني تحت الشرفة رؤية جيدة وكافية لما يدور، على الرغم من أنها كانت خافتة بعض الشيء.

 لفت نظري ظل رجل خرج من العتمة بالقرب من مقهى كوستا. ثم رأيت مجموعة من أفراد الأمن المركزي ملتفة حوله تدفعه وتضربه وهو عاري الصدر. سقط الرجل أرضاً وقد فقد جزءً من ملابسه والبقية كانت ملفوفة حول كاحله. لست متأكداً كيف أو متى خلع الأمن المركزي ملابسه.

 بدايةً كانوا يجرون الرجل على الإسفلت وهو ما زال جالساً، لكن الرجل تملص من قبضة ضابط الأمن المركزي على أحد أطرافه، وسرعان ما أمسك الضابط بطرف آخر وظل يجر الرجل، الذي أصبح مستلقياً أرضاً على وجهه. سحب رجال الأمن الرجل، عارياً، من كاحله ويديه تجاه مدرعة كانت على بعد أمتار من مكان ضربهم له. 

لم يبد الرجل أي مقاومة، سواء كانت جسدية أو كلامية، ثم أخذوه بالقرب من عمود إنارة. هناك باشرت مجموعة من الضباط ضربه وجره ودفعه ونزلوا عليه بالهراوات، والرجل ملقى على الأرض. لم يتدخل أي من الضباط المتواجدين في المكان ليشفع أو يخلص الرجل. كان صراخهم قبل ذلك يملأ المكان طيلة الليل وهم يعطون الأوامر الواحد للآخر. كان الرجل بين أيديهم يضرب ولا أحد يتدخل لانقاذه. 

جر الرجل تجاه المدرعة ورجال الأمن لا يتوقفون عن دفعه وركله. ثم رموه داخلها. بعد دقائق معدودة اقتربت مدرعة أخرى من المكان. أخرجوا الرجل وأجبروه على النزول أرضاً. رفع الرجل يديه إلى فوق لكن شرطة مكافحة الشغب، التي يرتدي أعضاؤها الخوذ، إلتفوا حوله وباشروا هم كذلك ضربه وركله دون هوادة في كل الإتجاهات. لم تسعف الرجل كل توسلاته، بل إن أحد الضباط طلب منه أن يقف ولم ينتظر حتى يلبي الرجل هذا الأمر وباشر ضربه، وكان هذا ردهم على توسله وطلبه الرحمة منهم. كان الضابط يضرب الرجل العاري والمستلقي على الأرض بقوة أكبر. 

واستمرت قوات الأمن بضرب الرجل العاري إلى أن أجبروه على دخول المدرعة الثانية وانصرفوا به إلى بعيد. 

 

 

Arabian Peninsula Media Roundup (February 05)

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[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.]

Reports and Opinions

From football to military might, how Qatar wields global power Jane Kinninmont examines the expansion of Qatar’s international influence, in The Guardian.

Kuwait activist jailed for five years for insulting emir on Twitter A news report on the prison sentence against Mohammad Eid Al Ajami for insulting the emir, in The National.

Saudi King Moves His Son One Step Closer to Throne A news report analyzing the implication of King Abdulla's appointment of Prince Muqrin bin Abdullaziz as a Second Deputy Prime Minister for the question of succession in the kingdom, on Al-Akhbar English.

Slush fund paid for palace in the desert A news report on an investigation held by Britain’s Serious Fraud Office into allegations that BAE Systems bribed Saudi royals to secure an arms deal, in The Sunday Times.

Outrage after Saudi cleric kills daughter A news report on the short prison sentence and the payment of “bloody money” imposed on a religious cleric accused of raping and killing his five-year-old daughter, on Al Jazeera.

Lawyer for Saudi man seeks to suppress evidence in Vegas rape case A news report on Mazen Alotaibi, who is accused of raping a thirteen-year-old boy at a Las Vegas hotel on New Year’s Eve, on Reuters.

Repression in Bahrain

Bahrain policeman jailed for fatal shooting of protester in 2011 A news report on the seven-year sentence of a Bahraini policeman who killed Ali Abdulhadi al-Mushaima, the first protester to die during the Bahraini uprising in 2011, in The Guardian.

Bahrain’s 2-year-old uprising at crossroads: Offers to talk and calls for great rebellion A news report reflecting on the second anniversary of the Bahraini uprising, in The Washington Post.

UK firm faces questions over how spyware ended up in Bahrain Jamie Doward writes on human rights campaigners’ fear that a specialist surveillance software produced by a British company may be used by Bahrain’s security forces to spy on people’s emails, in The Guardian. 

Crisis in Yemen

A New Yemeni State Falters Amid Saleh’s Holdouts Nabil Subaye examines the former Yemeni president’s unwavering influence on the country’s political scene, on Al-Akhbar English. 

Disappeared Under Yemen’s Saleh, Activist Found Alive Decades Later Nabil Subaye writes on the sudden emergence of the Yemeni leftist activist, Mathar al-Iriani who was imprisoned in a retirement home during the early days of Ali Abdulla Saleh's rule, on Al-Akhbar English.  

Intercepted ship ‘carried weapons from Iran’ A news report on Yemeni officials’ confirmation that the ship seized last month off the Yemeni coast carried explosives and surface-to-air missiles sent from Iran to insurgents in northern Yemen, on Al Jazeera English.

Human Rights Watch

UAE: Backsliding on Human Rights The organization’s assessment of the United Arab Emirates’ human rights record in its World Report 2013.

Bahrain: Widespread Suppression, Scant Reforms The organization’s assessment of Bahrain’s human rights record in its World Report 2013.

Saudi Arabia: Sweeping Injustices The organization’s assessment of Saudi Arabia’s human rights record in its World Report 2013.

Migrant Workers

Qatar 2022 World Cup will exploit migrant workers, says report David Conn writes on Human Rights Watch’s warning of the exploitation and abuse of migrant workers in Qatar, in The Guardian.

Dubai woman held on charges of beating maid to death Thamer Al Subaihi writes on the arrest of an Emirati woman on charges of beating her African maid to death, in The National.


Arabic


Fun, Football, and Palestinian Nationalism

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Some of the most enduring memories of fieldwork in al-Wihdat refugee camp are the several evenings I spent watching football matches in the company of my friends. 

Al-Wihdat is a Palestinian refugee camp established in 1955 on the outskirts of Amman, the capital of Jordan. The camp today is fully incorporated into the city through urban expansion. When I began my fieldwork in 2009, I expected Palestinian refugee camps to be highly politicized. Setting out to document the significance of Palestinian nationalism in the everyday life of refugees, I was puzzled to observe an ostensible absence of politics–an absence all the more striking as my fieldwork coincided with the outbreak of the Arab uprisings in North Africa. Political parties, groups, and activism seemed to have little appeal among my companions. Football, on the other hand, took on particular significance in their lives. It was everywhere: played in the United Nations Reliefs and Works Agency (UNRWA) school yards or in any other clearings that served the purpose; watched on television; and evoked by the logos and official colors of popular teams–such as Barcelona or Real Madrid–printed on the t-shirts and tracksuits that refugees wore daily. However, at times football also took on distinct forms of political significance. People often drew a link between politics and football. The Algeria-England match played in the preliminary round of the 2010 FIFA World Cup in July of that year was a case in point. As I expected, the large majority of refugees supported Algeria. For many, the World Cup was the time for payback against colonizers and imperialist countries. However, as I came to find out one day, “political” sympathies for football teams extended well beyond the simple colonized-colonizer dichotomy and were intimately intertwined with Palestinian nationalism. 


[Al-Wihdat fans. Image by Jihad Nijem]

One sunny evening in early April, I—along with a few friends from the camp—went to the football stadium in Amman where the Wihdat team played the majority of its home matches. Mal’ab Malik Abdullah II (King Abdullah II Stadium) was located within walking distance of al-Wihdat camp in the nearby neighborhood of Qwesmeh. The proximity of the stadium along with the wide clearing that encircled it provided the shabab (young men) of al-Wihdat and the surrounding areas with a suitable place for playing football. That day, however, the riot police were patrolling. The deployment of security forces was noticeable, and a thick cordon of officers stood along the entire perimeter of the football field. The Wihdat football team was playing and, as always, the authorities expected unrest.

 
[King Abdulla II Stadium during a match between al-Wihdat and al-Faisali. Image by Jihad Nijem]

Clashes between supporter groups and the police are indeed likely to erupt in such games, especially when the team–a sports club founded in 1956 in the homonymous refugee camp–plays against its historic rival, the al-Faisali team. In 2010, for example, more than250 fans were injured during a match between the two clubs. The exceptional display of force, however, was not the norm. After all, it was not a match against al-Faisali. The fierce rivalry between the two teams (i.e., al-Wihdat and al-Faisali) is not only motivated by the fact that both are the strongest football clubs in Jordan, which every year end up contending for the local championship. There is something else at stake. Whereas al-Wihdat has over time become an important symbol of identification for Palestinian refugees in and outside of Jordan, al-Faisali is a club typically associated with Jordanians of East Bank origin and loyalty to the regime. When the two teams played against one another, I often heard people repeating that ādī syāse mish mubārā ‘ādīe (This is politics, not a normal football match). On the other hand, most of the fans at other “home” games are Palestinians from al-Wihdat, and only a few police officers would patrol the stadium. That day, however, there was much more at stake than usual: al-Wihdat was just one victory away from winning the Cup of Jordan.

 
[Al-Faysali fans waving red-and-white scarves. Following the example of the late King Hussein, new generations
have begun to use these scarves in order to mark their ethnic identity as “genuinely” Jordanian. Image by Jihad Nijem]

Al-Wihdat eventually won that game, and celebrations were no less vibrant than I would have expected. In small groups, people flooded into the streets of the camp chanting slogans and singing songs while waving Palestinian flags and football scarves. Having watched the match at the stadium, I decided to join the crowd in the streets of the camp. Important al-Wihdat victories are always moments of shared joy and collective participation. That day, however, the enthusiasm and joy that accompanied this spontaneous gathering was greater than anything I had seen since I had been living in the camp. In terms of the number of people involved, other celebrations such as the rather sporadic political demonstrations or the annual commemoration of the nakba were insignificant. The streets were filled with people jumping and dancing, and traffic flow–in and of itself always problematic in the narrow alleys of al-Wihdat–was completely blocked. Whereas men and shabab (young men) took active part in the celebrations, women, children, and older people watched the parade enthusiastically from the balconies and windows of their homes or standing on the sidewalks.In the important arterial roads of Sumaiyya street and Madaba street, the sound of the drums accompanied the explosion of firecrackers and fireworks, while the Wihdat football anthem was played loudly from stands and small shops.

The spontaneity of these celebrations was also indicated by the complete lack of organization. Separate groups of people–which, in the dim lighting of the outer areas of the camp looked like just darker spots in the street–met in the street and started the celebration. Shabab spasmodically waved flags and Wihdat football scarves, occasionally using aerosol sprays as flamethrowers. As a mark of the strong bond that united the Wihdat football club with camp dwellers, soon after the trophy presentation in the stadium, the cup was brought into the camp and excitedly displayed by a group of people who were presumably standing in a car. The vehicle–not visible because of the number of people on and around it–was parading around al-Nadi street. In the space of a few minutes, thousands of people overflowed Madaba street and the streets around it. Blocking traffic flow, many hailed the victory by chanting slogans such as “God, Jerusalem, and the Arabs” or “we are from al-Wihdat, we are the children of Palestine.” These clusters of people eventually joined one another, merging into a larger mass. Moving back and forth in al-Nadi street between the souk and Madaba street (where a main police station was located), the multitude attracted more people, growing rapidly in size. Nobody led the crowd. Occasionally, leaders appeared, stirred up the crowd, and then disappeared.

However, the “mood” of the crowd changed quickly. The joy about the success of the Wihdat team was replaced by songs and chants against al-Faisali and the royal family, and the jubilation turned to turmoil. New slogans were replacing the old ones–such as “kuss ukht al-hukume” (fuck the government) and “faysalawi manayik” (Faisali supporters are fagots). Insults were also lunched at the police officers that were zealously observing the celebration, perched on the observation balconies that were located on top of the towering police station. Some people also began to set off fireworks close to—or even in the direction of—the police station. Immediately after the first fireworks were set off, the darak (gendarmerie) arrived at the scene dressed in full riot gear.

It did not take long for the darak and, then, the police to intervene with batons and tear gas. They were, according to my friends, only waiting for a pretext of one kind or another to scatter the crowd. Moving back from the epicentre of the clashes/celebration, we came across groups of shabab running away. Poor street lighting in al-Wihdat further raised fears and tensions. Indeed, a few hours earlier, a friend of mine had commented that a temporary blackout in the camp was the direct result of regime machinations: “It’s the government! They are doing it because of the match.” The main road that provides access to al-Wihdat from Madaba street was now blocked by temporary check points. A friend commented, his voice shaking with excitement: “it seems like we’re in Afghanistan!” 

Camp dwellers are much more likely to incur the wrath of the authorities for football matches that turned into collective protests against the regime, than for political demonstrations. There is, of course, nothing special about the political significance of football. The relationship between politics and football has been abundantly documented in the Middle East as well as elsewhere. In Jordan, the political significance of the matches between al-Wihdat and al-Faisali has been the subject of several studies, a plethora of newspaper articles, and even a WikiLeaks cables. However, while these accounts have the merit of exploring how the sport of football channels political tensions, the problematic weakness of many of them is their representation of camp dwellers’ lives as framed solely in the terms of political resistance against overarching forces (in this case, the Jordanian regime). Politics certainly shapes many aspects of refugees’ everyday lives. But to reduce everything in their lives to politics contributes to reproducing one-dimensional depictions of Palestinian refugees living in camps–popularly conveyed, for example, in the stereotype of refugees as irreducible dissidents.

The intention here is not to downplay the obvious political dimension of al-Wihdat football club, which became one of the symbols of Palestinian nationalism in Jordan after the crushing of guerrilla fighters during Black September in 1970. However, I believe that if we are to understand refugees’ daily lives in Jordan, we should look at football for its ludic dimension rather than for its capacity to act merely as a political medium. Focusing on this multi-dimensionality can enhance our understanding of how fun and football enabled camp dwellers to navigate the ambiguities of their lives.

It is important to remember that the situation of Palestinian refugees in Jordan differs greatly from that of Palestinian refugees living in other Arab states. Unlike Lebanon and Syria, where Palestinians maintained a legal status as “stateless” persons, Jordan has granted full citizenship to a large number of refugees, and with that, at least in principle, the same rights and duties as any other Jordanian native. The extension of citizenship rights has certainly favoured the emergence among refugees of a feeling of identification with Jordan, the country where they were born and the only physical home they ever knew.

On the other hand, the discriminatory practices of the government and exclusivist claims of a segment of the native population have strengthened among many Jordanians of Palestinian origin the idea of being second-class citizens and, to some extent, favoured the emergence of a Palestinian nationalistic and potentially explosive sentiment. Many observers have pointed out the increasing discriminatory practices of the regime against Jordanians of Palestinian origin. This discrimination is particularly visible in field of employment in the public sector, in parliament and other national institutions where the hiring of native Jordanians is usually privileged over that of “Palestinians”. An example is the near hegemony of the former group in the state security apparatus, including the police forces and the intelligence agency (al-mukhabarat). But it is also the fate of West Bankers that gives dramatic evidence of the socio-political fragility of Palestinians in Jordan. While Palestinian refugees originally from Gaza were never given citizenship rights, 1948 refugees from the West Bank have enjoyed the same social and economic rights as any other Jordanian. However, upon King Hussein’s decision to formally renounce any claim of sovereignty over the West Bank in 1988, the government has revoked the Jordanian citizenship of those living habitually in the West Bank and, in recent years, started stripping arbitrarily the citizenship of those who were Jordanians for all legal purposes; this has de facto left many Palestinians in and outside Jordan in a legal limbo, stateless citizens of a Palestinian state-to-be (for more information about the status of Palestinian refugees in Jordan and the current revocation of citizenship, click here).

Let me now make a brief digression. At the beginning of this article I mentioned the generalized feeling of distaste that refugees in al-Wihdat harboured for politics and politicking, included Palestinian political parties and leaders. The eagerness of many to distance themselves from what they saw as the unsavoury and dangerous world of politics can perhaps be explained with Carl Schmitt’s specific understanding of the political. According to the German political philosopher, at the very core of “the political” lies the distinction between friend and enemy. In Jordan, the distinction between “enemy/friend” is often perceived as intrinsic to Palestinian refugees’ status. This distinction is played out in the tension between refugeeness and citizenship, between Palestinianness and Jordanianness, between the efforts of living an ordinary life in the context of their integration in Jordan and the nationalistic struggles of an exilic and marginalized community. Because of its agonistic nature, the political cankers this set of tensions inherent in camp dwellers status in Jordan, and leaves little space for the kind of flexibility that they need to live a life as both Palestinian refugees and Jordanian citizens. If the political exacerbates the ambiguities of being a Palestinian refugee in Jordan, these contradictions are then most intensely experienced by refugees in al-Wihdat–a space whose history and reputation make it intrinsically political. Since politics is the arena in which the tension between competing acts of loyalty is most frequently re-enacted, engaging the political is as though refugees are constantly asked to whom they plead allegiance–the Jordanian state or Palestinian nationalism? But if the political requires taking a firm stand either as Palestinian refugees or Jordanian citizens that camp dwellers are unwilling to take, a descent into the mundane and apparently trivial gives them hopes of transcending the incommensurability of the rhetoric of “us” versus “them”.

Here is where football comes in. The fun and ludic dimensions of watching their “local” team allows refugees to reproduce the ideal and ethical values of Palestinian nationalism by fashioning a shared feeling of belonging to the same community. At the same time, however, football enables camp dwellers to mitigate the excess of the political and reinterpret these ideals and meanings in a new way that is more suited to their need to live an ordinary life as Jordanian citizens (i.e., outside the imperative of active militancy). Of course, the whole episode narrated above may induce some observers to conclude that political life amongst refugees is framed in terms of a radical antagonism between Jordanians of Palestinian origin and “native Jordanians,” and that people in al-Wihdat make instrumental use of football to channel their political struggles. I instead urge once again to look at the ludic dimension of football in order to grasp the complexities of camp dwellers’ political identities. 

Al-Wihdat’s football matches generate a generalized enthusiasm in the camp, and my friends list important victories by their local team among the most cherished moments of their lives. In Migrants and Militants, Oskar Verkaaik shows how activists of the Muhajir Qaumi Movement (MQM) perceive their participation in the nationalist movement as a good opportunity to have fun. However, as the author points out, “[i]t often takes only a tiny step to go from fun to violence, and it is frequently taken without much consideration”. The fierce rivalry between al-Wihdat and al-Faisali has often turned into political criticism and unrest. It is hence not uncommon that the aftermath of a football match between the two clubs turns into a sort of urban guerrilla fighting. Fun provides Palestinian refugees in al-Wihdat with the capacity to act under a common feeling of identification as Palestinians. During these matches, national and ethnic nuances are wiped out and boundaries sharpened: Palestinians support al-Wihdat, the so-called “native Jordanians” support al-Faisali. This identification reaches such an extent that when al-Wihdat lost an important match and consequently the championship, many were embittered and remarked to me: “They took Palestine, then al-Aqsa, and now al-Wihdat.”

For camp dwellers, however, allegiance to Palestinian nationalist ideals during football matches is more than the discourse on Palestinian national identity and struggles promoted by party leaders. They experience this ideal as a form of leisure, humour, and irreverence, which gives them a sense of power, amplified by the self-awareness that being together inspires. It is not only solidarity, though, but also internal competition within the group that defines the relationships between its members. Again, it is worth quoting Verkaaik when he states that “[a]lready standing somewhat outside mainstream society and often lacking formal leadership, such groups may put pressure on members to show their wit and courage by going beyond the limits of what is generally deemed morally acceptable”. The transgressive crossing of the boundary between the legit and illicit is a common feature of important at Wihdat matches. Aroused by the noisy sound of drums at the stadium, audible even from the south-eastern outskirts of the camp, al-Wihdat’s fans often accompany the performance of their team with mocking and sarcastic songs. On these occasions, for example, a common slogan that the crowd shout to encourage al-Wihdat features the substitution of malik (king) with “al-Wihdat” as a term of reference in what originally was a nationalist pro-Hashemite slogan: “bir-roh bid-dam nafdika ya malik/al-Wihdat” (by soul and by blood we support the King/Wihdat).” In the camp, this is even more evident when the euphoria and joy about the victory of Al-Wihdat took a dangerous and yet thrilling turn (i.e., when the shabab start criticising the King and his entourage, including the authorities. Such deeds would often be recalled with pride within the peer group, and are narrated again and again to loud laughs and clapping.

However, the irreverent and ludic nature of these events points to yet another dimension of fun: its creative capacity. Against the backdrop of the disastrous political situation in the Occupied Territories and the discrimination faced in host countries, fun does not simply make it possible for camp dwellers to infuse new life into Palestinian nationalism and to use it to counterbalance their shared experience of loss and marginalisation in Jordan. More than that, the creative power of fun enables camp youths to give new meaning to the notion of “Palestinianness”, and a new form to their allegiance to Palestinian nationalism, one more suited to their desire to live life in Jordan. Of course, the dynamics of friend/enemy identification that defined the agonistic world of the political are also played out during football matches: this is most evident when al-Wihdat played against al-Faisali. But because of its ludic and non-serious dimension, however, fun enables a flexibility that the sclerotic world of the political would not permit. The self-contradictory ambiguity of being both Palestinian refugees and Jordanian citizens is of little importance to my friends when al-Wihdat played. If supporting al-Wihdat means anything at all, it is the desire for transgression, the feeling of togetherness, and the euphoric atmosphere that its supporters experience when the team plays. This makes it possible to support al-Wihdat as a symbol of Palestinian identification, despise al-Faisali as the antagonist team that represents the regime, and yet feel themselves genuinely Jordanian citizens afterwards.

The Very Risky Bet of Hollande in Mali: The Probable Long-Term Disaster

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On 11 January, France's President François Hollande sent in troops to Mali, a few immediately but then 3500, a sizeable number. The stated objective was to fight against the various Islamic fundamentalists who had taken control of northern Mali. It was what the French would call a gageure - a word that derives from gage in the sense of a bet. It basically means undertaking something very difficult to achieve. I think one might best translate it as a "risky bet" and in this case, I would say it was a very risky bet. 

What did Hollande bet, and why did he do it? It is easy to see his reasoning as to why it was a good idea. He received a formal request from the President of Mali to send in troops immediately. The basic justification offered by both presidents was that the Malian army was in more or less full retreat and it seemed quite possible that, within a very short time, the Islamic fundamentalists might be able to take control of Mali's capital, Bamako, and govern the whole country. It seemed now or never. 

Furthermore, Hollande felt he had considerable backing throughout the world to undertake this. The United Nations had passed a resolution unanimously, offering political support to the Malian government and authorizing the entry of African troops from neighboring countries to assist them. However, these troops were not considered "ready" yet and urgently needed some training. It had been anticipated that they would be ready in midyear 2013. Hollande felt France couldn't wait that long. 

Furthermore, France got virtual support from Algeria, which had previously opposed military action even by African troops, but now authorized overflights. This support was seconded by Tunisia, which said it "understood" what France was doing. All of France's NATO allies - in particular, the United Kingdom, Germany, Italy, and Spain, and slightly less enthusiastically, the United States - said France was doing the right thing, and that they would give support: not sending troops, but offering some transport planes, and trainers for the various African armies. 

Finally, there seemed to be other pluses for Hollande. The move strengthened the hand of the civilian president of Mali vis-à-vis the putschist leader of the Malian army, something France and all its allies wanted to do. And the move seemed to transform Hollande's image internally in France, changing it overnight from that of an indecisive, weak president to a bold wartime leader.

So then what was the risk in the bet? Hollande bet that he could send in a limited number of troops and planes, arrange that the north of Mali be reconquered by the Malian government with the aid perhaps of other African troops, and more or less permanently dislodge the Islamic fundamentalists. And he hoped to accomplish all this in a very short time - a month or so. 

It is already clear after less than a month that he has probably lost the risky bet and that France is in another of those long-term quagmires in which the entire Western world seems to be specializing these days. Before France sent in the troops, there was lots of discussion about why France and the western world in general should not create "another Afghanistan," which many persons thought would happen if troops were sent in. And while every situation is a bit different, it is another Afghanistan that seems to be in the process of happening. Already French politicians opposed to Hollande, who had initially endorsed his decision unequivocally, are beginning to "take their distance." And none of the NATO allies seems too anxious to give truly substantial assistance, about which the French government is grumbling privately while publicly applauding the wonderful assistance they are getting.

As of this writing, French and Malian troops have already reconquered the three main urban centers of northern Mali (Gao, Timbuktu, and Kidal). And there are even already some African troops (primarily from Chad) involved in the military effort. So, on the surface, it looks good. But just below the surface it doesn't look the least bit good for Hollande or the western world. 

First of all, what does it mean to "retake" an urban center? It means that the various fundamentalist military groups (there are several different ones) have withdrawn their men and trucks from the towns, or at least from most of the town. The Islamic fundamentalists clearly intend to fight a guerilla war, not one of direct confrontation, for which they are too weak. 

And withdraw to where? In part, it seems, they have withdrawn to being an underground force within the towns. And in part, probably in greater part, they have withdrawn to the desert sands (in which they are more proficient fighters) and ultimately to the cavernous mountainsides of northern Mali from where it will be very difficult to dislodge them.

But then at least, you say, life in the towns can "return to normal." Well, not quite. First of all, the towns, like most towns, are a complex medley of groups. There are Tuareg in the towns to be sure. And the struggle for Tuareg rights, for autonomy or independence, is what started the whole Malian imbroglio.

There are also local Saharan Arabs, and Peul - almost all Muslims. And a large number of the Muslims are Sufi, which means they don't appreciate at all the super-sharia version of Islam propagated by the fundamentalist groups. In addition, there are both light-skinned Malians (largely the Tuareg and the Saharan Arabs) and darker-skinned ones. And, in terms of the politics of the struggle, there were some locals who welcomed the Islamic fundamentalists, many more who opposed them (or fled), and still more who tried to keep out of the struggle. 

One problem is that the Malian army, composed largely of dark-skinned (often non-Muslim) southerners, does not understand or care much about this complexity. They do not even like or trust the Chadians fighting with them, because they are largely Muslim. So, the Malian army takes its revenge a bit indiscriminately. And the human rights observers are already condemning them for engaging in the same kind of arbitrary slaughter that had been the complaint about the Islamic fundamentalists. And this of course is highly embarrassing for Hollande and the French in general. At this point, one reason the French give privately for staying in the battle is to serve as a restraint on the Malian army. 

Where do we go from here? Anyone's guess. One can already see the same debate in France about withdrawal from Mali that one finds in the United States about withdrawal from Afghanistan. If we turn everything over to the local government whom we are supporting, will everything fall apart again? And are the ones we're supporting really "good guys?"

As has been shown time and time again, it is easy to send troops in. It is very difficult to get them out. And when one does, are things better or worse than they would have been, had troops never gone in initially? This counsel is what the Algerian government was proffering a month ago, until they too seemed to have changed their mind. Hollande's "courageous decision" may well turn out to be "Hollande's disastrous decision."

[This article was originally published on Binghamton University's website.]

نجوان درويش بطاقة هوية وأشعار أخرى

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بطاقة هُويّة


رغم أَنّ الكردي مشهورٌ بقساوة الرأس ــــ كما يتندّر الأَصدقاء ـــــ إلا أَنني كنتُ أَرقَّ من نَسْمة الصيف وأَنا أَحتضنُ إِخوتي في أَربع جهات الأَرض. 

وكنتُ الأَرمني الذي لم يصدِّق الدموع تحت أَجفان ثلجِ التاريخ

وهي تغطّي المقتولين والقَتَلَة

أَكثيرٌ بعد ما حَصَل أَن أُسْقِط مخطوطةَ شعري في الوحل؟

وفي جميع الأَحوال كنتُ سورياً من بيت لحم أَرفع مخطوطةَ أَخي الأَرمني وتركياً من قونيّة يدخلُ الآن من باب دمشق.

وقبل قليلٍ وصلتُ "بيادر وادي السِّير" واستقبلني النّسيم الذي وحده يعرف معنى أَن يأتي المرء من جبال القفقاس مصحوباً بكرامته وعِظام أَهله. وحين وطئ قلبي ترابَ الجزائر لأَوّل مرَّة لم أَشكَّ للحظةٍ أَنّي لستُ أَمازيغيّاً. 

في كلِّ مكانٍ ذهبتُ إليه ظنّوني عراقياً وكان ظنّهم في مكانه. وطالما حسبتُ نفسي مصرياً عاش ومات مراراً بجانب النيل مع أَسلافه الأَفارقة. 

وقبل كل شيء كنتُ آرامياً. ولا غرو أَن أَخوالي على الأقل مِنْ بيزنطة وأَنني كنت الصبي الحجازي الذي نال حلوى الدلال من صفرونيوس وعُمَر في فَتْحِ بيت المقدس.

ليس من مكانٍ قاومَ غزاته إِلا وكنتُ من أَهله، وما مِنْ إِنسان حُرّ لا تجمعني به قرابة، وما مِنْ شجرة أَو غيمة ليس لها أَفضالٌ عليّ. كما أَن ازدرائي للصهاينة لن يمنعني من القول إِنني كنتُ يهودياً طُرِدَ من الأَندلس وإِنني ما زلتُ أَنسج المعنى مِنْ ضوء ذلك الغروب.   

في بيتي نافذة مفتوحة على اليونان وأَيقونة تشير إلى روسيا

ورائحة طيبٍ أَبديّ تهبّ من الحِجاز 

ومرآةٌ ما إِن أَقف أَمامها إلا وأَراني أَتَدَبَّرُ الربيعَ في حدائق شيراز وأَصفهان وبُخارى. 

 

وبأَقلَّ مِنْ هذا لا يكون المرء عربياً. 



المسلَّة

 إلى أُم كلثوم 


حين زارت عظيمةُ مغنّيات زمانها باريس لتغنّي للمجهود الحربي وتشدّ أَزر بلادها الخارجة لتوّها مِنْ وطأة هزيمة ثقيلة (قيل إن أَجرها الذي وهبته للمجهود الحربيّ كان أَعلى أَجرٍ يُدْفَع لمغنية في ذلك الزمن)؛ قدَّمت الأسطورةُ، حينَها، حديثاً تلفزيونياً واحداً. 

وحين سألتها المذيعةُ عن أَكثر ما لَفَتَها في "مدينة الأنوار" كما يُسمّونها، أَجابت مع ابتسامةٍ ساحرة: المسلَّةُ المصرية.

الفلاحةُ المصرية في داخلها كانت أَكبر من أَية مدينة

وأَكبر من أَيِّ شاعرٍ هذا العامل الذي يبتسم الآن في أَعماقي

وهو منتشٍ بهذا الثناء على أَسلافه الذين نحتوا تلك المسلّة.

 

قدس

عندما أُغادركِ أَتحجَّر 

وعندما أَعود إليكِ أَتحجَّر 


أُسمّيكِ ميدوزا 

أُسمّيكِ الأُخت الكبرى لِسَدَومَ وعَمورة 

أَيتها الجرن الصغير الذي أَحرق روما


القتلى يَزْجِلون على التلال 

والعصاةُ عاتِبون على رواة قصَّتِهم 

وأَنا أَتركُ البحرَ ورائي وأَعود إليك 

أَعودُ 

بهذا النهر الصغير الذي يَصَبُّ في يأسِكِ


أَسمعُ المُقْرِئين والمكفِّنين وغُبار المُعَزَّين 

لم أَبلغ الثلاثين ودفنتِني مرَّات كثيرة 

وفي كلِّ مرةٍ 

كنتُ أَخرج مِنَ التّراب لأجلكِ 


فليذهب إلى الجحيم مُبَجِّلوكِ 

بائعو تذكارات أَلَمِكِ 

كلُّ الذين يقفون معي الآن في الصورة


أُسمّيك ميدوزا 

أُسمّيك الأُخت الكبرى لسدوم وعمورة 

أَيتها الجرن الصغير الذي ما زال يحترق 


عندما أُغادركِ أَتحجّر 

وعندما أَعود إليكِ أَتحجّر. 


قدس II


وَقَفْنا على الجبل

لنَرْفَعَ لكِ الأُضحية 

وحين رأَينا أَيدينا تَرْتَفِعُ فارغةً

عرفنا أَننا أُضحياتك. 

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إتركي الفاني يَسْقُطُ بين يديْ قرينه الفاني

أَيتها الباقية

ما شأنكِ بهذا الحجيج المُرْتَبِكِ مِنَ الزائلين؟ 


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أَيدينا ترتفع فارغةً

نحن أُضحياتك.

The Syrian Regime Bravely Condemns the Israeli Airstrike on Syria

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Several days after Israeli air force struck targets inside Syria, President Bashar al-Asad bravely condemned the assault. Moreover, he also asserted with defiance that Israel is trying to “destabilize” Syria, debunking thereby the claims that, by striking a part of Syria's sovereign territory, Israel was trying to promote Arab unity and social justice from the gulf to the ocean. The Syrian regime reserved for itself once more the right to retaliate when it sees fit, augmenting thereby the rights that it affords itself to retaliate to Israeli strikes inside Syrian territories. In 2007, Israel also struck targets north of Syria and the regime was not quick in responding with defiance also by condemning the attack and reserving for itself the right to respond when it saw fit. When you collect three instances in which you are attacked and you reserve for yourself the right to retaliate, you get a prize from the international community.

As if these retaliatory actions were not sufficient, Syria also formally complained to the United Nations about the attack. Some Syrian regime officials also decided to demonstrate peacefully and unarmed against Israeli aggression in a Damascene quarter, but were concerned that other regime officials might take them out with tanks. Meanwhile, even higher-level regime officials prevented the demonstration from taking place because if the other regime officials strike the peaceful regime officials' demonstration, the latter regime officials might turn Islamist, invite foreign meddling, funding, and stinger missles, while a portion of them will turn into JAN-like* networks, invite other foreign fighters, and create further complexity (*Jabhat al-Nusrah-h-h-h).

For its part, the US administration yet again demonstrated its customary political integrity in foreign relations in its dealing with the news of a hostile attack on one’s soil. Its response to the Israeli strike against Syria was literally to warn Syria about transferring weapons to Hizballah. Ben Rhodes, White House deputy national security adviser, said "Syria should not further destabilise the region by transferring weaponry to Hezbollah." The best analysis attributes this concern to the potential ability of Hizballah to strike Israeli jet fighters that have never stopped violating Lebanese airspace since 2000, or to F-16s and F-18s that bomb Lebanese cities, quarters, and villages to smithereens, as in summer 2006. The US administration, consistent with previous US administrations, takes sovereignty very seriously when it involves allies, a perfectly understandable position. What is confusing to the US government, however, are the attempts by state and non-state actors to defend themselves against the violation of their airspace and the destruction of their land and peoples.

Instead, the US administration suggested the export to Lebanon of water/soap bubble dispensers that, upon impact, over the years, might cause the sides of jet fighters either to rust or experience discoloration. (a yellow duck dispenser will be provided to avoid suspicion, and to match Hizballah’s colors, which is a really nice touch).

         

The Turkish foreign minister, Ahmet Davutoglu, was furious with Syria for not retaliating, and reportedly said that “Turkey will not stand by as Israel attacks a Muslim country.” Assumingly (not sure if this is a word, but MS Word did not underline it in red when I typed it, so I’m going with it. Still, it’s not sitting well with me. “Hopefully,” which is not a proper word, sits better), wondering why Syria was so trigger-happy in downing a Turkish warplane in international skies last year, Davutoglu asked “[w]hy didn’t Assad even throw a pebble when Israeli jets were flying over his palace and playing with the dignity of his country?” For his part, Turkish president Recep Tayyip Erdogan told reporters that “Israel has a mentality of waging state terrorism and added that “We cannot regard a violation of air space as acceptable . . . . I am worried that in a situation like this, any scenario can play out in the future.”

As a result, either Davutoglu or Erdogan, will plan to retaliate by walking out on an Israeli official at a high profile public event (which usually terrifies the Israelis, especially when Turkish officials do not take care to un-clinch their microphones as they storm out in protest).

  

As usual, Israel was quite compassionate about the whole ordeal. On the one hand, it treated the strike like it does the Palestinians: the strike does not exist. On the other hand, it generously declared that it will not try to ethnically cleanse Syrians from Syria, no matter how close that country is to Judea and Samaria, distance-, spelling-, or pronunciation-wise.

 

Oh, and three people within the entire Syrian opposition condemned the attack on Syria. One went so far as to say that in future correspondence with Israeli officials over a peaceful settlement he will refrain from adding “Best” at the end of emails. Considering the circumstances in Syria, the Israeli government welcomed the gesture and insisted that the overwhelming majority of its settlements are rather peaceful so long as Arabs stay away. 

The Syrian regime has learned next to nothing from Hizballah, و الحمد لله.

Morsi Mubarak

Two Years of Meta-Narratives: How Not to Cover Syria

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Bassam Haddad mentioned in his article entitled “The Triumph and Irrelevance of Meta-Narratives Over Syria: “Rohna Dahiyyah” that people writing about Syria are often detached from the pain and realities of the people on the ground. We believe this argument is rather fallacious and unfair. Some of those producing media on Syria have gone the extra mile to get as close to the heart of the issue as they could, encapsulating the complexity of the struggle and giving a voice to the Syrian people who live in constant fear and uncertainty. The following piece profiles a few of those sensitive contributors to the media on the Syrian revolution.

The Amateur Journalist

If he is not kidnapped on his first day of reporting, after mistaking a mukhabarat informant for a taxi driver, the Amateur goes on to send starry-eyed reports from FSA-held Idlib province. His story most likely includes an adrenaline-soaked adventure of running through bullet fire as he crosses the Turkish border with the help of men wearing black scarves with white squiggly lines on them. The article usually follows with this freelancer’s encounter with a local FSA leader (or activist, since these are considered interchangeable) who coincidentally turns out to be in charge of most of the province. This leader's long, scruffy beard contributes to his stoic, battle-worn mystique. The Amateur aims to show the human side of the story. The leader chats with him while nursing to health a stray wounded cat while the leader’s wife, who is wearing a traditional abaya that flows in the wind, refills the would-be journalist’s glass of hot, sticky tea. For two weeks, the mujahid gives the amateur the exclusive inside scoop on the revolutionary democratic system that he and his fellow villagers have implemented. A system where everyone - except of course women, young people, and Alawites - has a voice in deciding the appropriate sentence for those sinful souls who stole bread from the bakery. Yes, the future looks bright for the amateur journalist who chose war-torn Syria for his first beat (we are not counting his summer internship at the North Dakota Times).

The Seasoned Journalist

Probably the most cynical advocate for a Free Syria, the Seasoned Journalist can fart and people will tweet and share it. On a bad day, he can write an article in the comfort of his Beirut mansion with a glass of whisky in one hand and the guilt of his British imperial legacy on the other. His analysis features illuminating claims that brown people - other than his insightful taxi driver, Ahmed - simply lacked the analytical skills to see. Ahh the power of investigative journalism! On a good day, the Seasoned Journo will miraculously find himself where no other member of the press has ever been. Reporting from a government prison, where he interviews incarcerated foreign fighters, he shares his wisdom on the Syrian Revolution: it was entirely hijacked by a foreign hand and the days of peaceful resistance are over. Sometimes he does not even bother to make the trip, throwing in his two cents from across the world instead. This veteran reporter does not have to know what is going on inside Syria to cover it on occasion – it is a sexy topic for the moment, and he does not want to miss out. Besides, a story in which he plays hero might just get the necessary mobilization for his personally prescribed path to Syrian democracy. Showing off his Arabic by a generous sprinkling of the words habibi and shabiha in his reporting, as well as his fetishizing and in depth knowledge of political Islam (he once visited a mosque in Pakistan and he follows Mona Eltahawy on Twitter), he is in an ideal position to make rational and enlightened comments on the future of Syria. After providing a more comprehensive overview of the situation of the ground using an embellished version of the amateur’s account, the seasoned journalist concludes his article grimly and definitively: the “Lion of Damascus” and his regime are bad but so is the opposition; Syria is bound to be a repeat of Afghanistan, Lebanon, and the Balkans.

The Syrian-American FSA Revolutionary

The Syrian-American FSA Revolutionary's maternal great-grandmother was born in Damascus and immigrated to the US in her childhood. Since the beginning of the uprising, the revolutionary reminisces on Twitter about those two summers spent at his teta's house in the Shaam, where he would chase his cousins under the olive trees as the call to prayer emanated from the Umayyad mosque. This Revolutionary makes you look twice -- you may think he is reporting to you live from Aleppo, with his tweets every three minutes describing the situation on the ground with exacting detail and certainty, but after a few weeks, you find out he is actually broadcasting from the messy and chaotic battleground of his college dorm room in Chicago. His preferred news sources include "my second cousin Abu Mohammed in Homs," the Syrian Revolution Facebook page, blurry and unverified YouTube videos, and "#Syria" on Twitter. His "confirmed" reportage of events is retweeted religiously by his 5,272 followers, and even if his assertions are later contradicted, he rarely follows up: he is too busy hoisting his revolution flag at fundraisers for Syria with unverified recipients. The Revolutionary mocks the piss-poor media coverage of Syria, as he believes deeply in the importance of disseminating leaked naked pictures of Asmaa al-Assad, ridiculously good looking Syrian rebels nuzzling kittens, Bashar wearing different wigs, and other essential topics.

The Fumigating Anti-Imperialist

Quoting those early revolution polls that showed that Syrians were favorable to the Syrian government, the Fumigating Anti-Imperialist is hopeful that Bashar will manage to protect his people against terrorism, sectarianism, and the inter-galactic Western-Zionist-GCC conspiracy. After all, the Syrian government is the champion of Arab resistance and its policies have been historically consistent with the anti-normalization of Israel. It seems surreal (and so suspicious!), that out of the blue, Syrians would start rising against the valiant leadership of Bashar al-Assad. The anti-imperialist thus mocks the self-proclaimed experts engaged in ex-post facto rationalization with neoliberal undertones. Unemployment, growing inequality, and corruption are all consequences of the uprising, not preceding it. Such misunderstandings are the result of the propaganda war launched against the stalwart resistance. The Anti-Imperialist pays attention to the hidden meanings and semantics behind Bashar’s conciliatory speeches, which are constantly distorted and cherry picked by the malicious foreign media. Take for instance the coverage of Homs: the army merely had to go in to cleanse Baba Amro from its terrorists, but it was falsely portrayed as some sort of bloody besieging. Despite some unfortunate collateral damage, Bashar is still quite popular with the “silent majority,” including the Damascene urbanites, the wealthy, and those who-shall-not-be-named living in Mezze 86. The anti-imperialist tut tuts at those few poor, foolish Syrians who have joined the opposition, disappointingly seduced by the allure of sectarian rhetoric and funding from al-Qaeda. They ruined decades of carefully designed nation-state building under the Baath party that for so long had provided freedom, stability, and progress for the Syrian people and their Arab neighbors.

The Beltway Analyst

The Beltway Analyst on Syria need not be fluent in Arabic; it suffices to be intimately familiar with US foreign policy and speak the language of international expertise. Whether Syrian or not, his Western education is what grants him the proper credentials to speak with more insight about the events on the ground than those inside the country. His authority is so all-encompassing that both Washington insiders and the shabiha take great notes from his prophetic blog. He is a moral compass and is quoted declaring the revolution's consummate “turning,” “tipping,” and "breaking" point every month or so. However, the Beltway Analyst is not as conclusive as the seasoned journalist. He is too aware of international strategies to be moved by the plight of problematic lefties and a few casualties. He is not emotional and irrational like the rest: when he changes his mind about the conflict, it involves an objective, informed, and calculated evaluation of the situation. When he is not out cashing in on people’s suffering and "centuries-old religious struggles," the Beltway Analyst attends those modest dinners held between Paris, Istanbul, and Marrakesh to carve out -- I mean, sort out divisions in Syria. To hell with pesky insiders, what Syria needs is detached political leadership and cold, technocratic expertise. Women, Kurds, and political organizers inside Syria who risked their lives, rest assured--once the regime is overthrown, we will figure out a space to discuss your demands.

The Activist

"Activist” has become quite the buzzword since March 2011, as media outlets who were barred entry into Syria found it more appealing and succinct than “anonymous-Syrian-whose-Skype-name-we-got-from-some-guy-in-London.” The activist will speak with you live from a besieged city and to enhance the spectacle, add a few burning tires to the decor to cover up the impasse in the shelling. Beyond his qualities as a media entrepreneur - he has six twitter accounts, four nicknames and fourteen Facebook groups- the activist is the most lucid of all the types enumerated above. If he has not already left to fight along the FSA because he is disillusioned with protests, six-point plans, and multilateral negotiations, he is with them at least in thought. Tweeting from his home in exile in Europe or the US, he fantasizes about the marvelous work of cold-headed American freedom fighters and expresses his guilt over not staying back with those who could not afford getting smuggled outside the country and that are stuck in Zaatari refugee camp. While they bemoan the SNC, in practice they have a similar, pragmatic rhetoric: let’s get rid of Assad first, by whatever means, and talk about other problems later (critiquing abuses from the opposition will only be counter-productive).

Although the aforementioned characters of the Syrian revolution are engaged in a heated debate and often disagree with one another, there is no doubt that their ideas are meant to move forward a peaceful resolution of the conflict. With such cheerleading for the Syrian cause, one can only conclude that it is Syrians who have not done enough to help themselves.

The Thin Line between Revolution And Sedition

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I read with great sadness – but unfortunately not much surprise – Professor Adel Iskander’s deeply misguided article, “A Nation Derailed,” published on 28 January 2013 on Jadaliyya.

Iskander’s attempt to play politics with the tragic deaths of nineteen deceased train accident victims is, well, not the classiest of moves. In the article, Iskander makes a very simplistic, and all too played out three-pronged argument: First, the Mohamed Morsi administration is failing miserably; second, the Egyptian government’s failure is a fundamental cause of the train accident, other accidents occurring recently in Egypt, and the horrendous conditions that characterize the country’s transportation and healthcare industries; and third, since what is unfolding in Egypt now is merely a continuation of the January 25 Revolution, the protesting Egyptian opposition is justified in its anger and utter disregard for law and order.

Iskander says the following about the 15 January 2013 Badrashin train accident: “Not only was the country’s ailing railway system on display, its healthcare institutions, laid to waste by the double-punch of a decade of systematic neglect and worsening mismanagement under the Morsi government, were in full view” (my emphasis).

The lack of astuteness here is stunning. Here, we are expected to believe that Morsi’s “mismanagement” is a primary culprit in the railway and healthcare problems. Iskander wants readers to believe that Morsi — who inherited a ravaged country about six months before the Badrashin tragedy, and who is in charge of a nation whose infrastructure was destroyed by thirty-years of Mubarak rule and eighteen months of post-revolution turbulence, which has for decades been mired in what political economists call an “inefficiency crisis,” whose economy is on life support, where acute poverty and illiteracy are rampant, and where the education, health, and transportation sectors are prehistoric — should have been able, in six months, to make improvements that would prevent tragic accidents and significantly raise healthcare standards. This would have been quite a challenge for Superman, and especially for Morsi, a man who was essentially forced to fill his inner circle with political adversaries, and who has so far had to battle the army, judiciary, Israel, and an incompetent opposition bent on overthrowing a democratically elected leader – all without a permanent government or a full set of democratic institutions.

The fact that Iskander and his ilk complain about the railway system — pretending that someone else might have been able to come up with a miraculous way (and hundreds of millions of dollars) to fix (or make significant improvements in) the railway system in six months — is indicative of either a lack of knowledge or a lack of sincerity on the part of many in the Egyptian opposition, which, it appears, would rather see Morsi fail (and Egypt collapse) than witness a successful Muslim Brotherhood reign. An American friend of mine – who has an MA in Industrial Engineering from a top tier university in the United States – was flabbergasted over the recent infrastructure and construction-related complaints emanating from the Egyptian opposition. He told me that before announced construction projects get off the ground, the pre-implementation stage — which includes bidding, design, and financial close — can take between one and three years, if not longer. In my former state of Minnesota, the local government spent more than three years to repair and reconstruct one stretch of highway. Also in Minnesota, a light rail corridor line stretching just twelve miles took several years to plan and construct. It is things like this that many uninformed people in the Egyptian opposition do not know or understand, and which educated people like Iskander may be attempting to conceal. Egypt’s rebuilding project is going to take many years. It will take even longer if people in the opposition continue to call for disruptive, destructive protests that paralyze large parts of the country.

Iskander’s article also features rants against the emergency services summoned to the Badrashin wreck and Egypt’s unsanitary hospitals. Here again, he conveniently ties the failures to Morsi.

Iskander knows that Egypt’s emergency apparatus is almost nonexistent. In fact, it is a running joke in Egyptian society that injured and sick persons should not wait for the ambulance, which will either show up exceedingly late or not show up at all. Of course, none of this is Morsi’s doing. This unfortunate reality is the product of decades of inefficient, corrupt government.

It is similarly well known among Egyptians that Egypt’s hospitals are, overall and by and large, horrible. Early last year, I spent an evening in the emergency room at Qasr Al-Aini Hospital – considered average by Egyptian standards – and had to cut my visit short (in spite of medical advice to the contrary) because the hospital was in such disarray and so unsanitary. The staff was not qualified, the bathrooms were filthy (the lone men’s toilet in the Emergency Room did not have a seat, was filled with filth – I will spare you the details – and there was no toilet tissue or soap), and the overall setup was something out of a horror film. Many of the Badrashin injured were likely sent into similar conditions – because that is all there is in some parts of Egypt.

The Morsi administration should be held to account for the plans it puts in place to get Egypt on the right path to a better economy, adequate healthcare, emergency services, and modern transportation, among other things. To blame him for accidents and poor healthcare now – less than seven months into his rule and before any projects could have possibly gotten off the ground – is childish and irresponsible.

Iskander, in an effort to legitimate the “Black Bloc” and large pockets of violent protesters, and in a desperate attempt to equate today’s thugs with the January 25 revolutionaries, describes today’s “myriad forms of civil disobedience” – which include the burning of government buildings and security vehicles, the blocking off of the underground and bridges, and violence against police – in favorable tone. Iskander should know better. There is a big difference between attempting to oust a thirty-year dictator and attempting to overthrow an elected president. One could say the distinction is like the difference between night and day, or put differently, like the difference between revolution and sedition.

Many in Egypt’s opposition do not yet understand that mistakes made by an elected president — even big ones — are not to be treated the same way as mistakes made under dictatorship. Mubarak was a thirty-year dictator who ruled people against their will. Any attempt to overthrow him was by definition legitimate, provided it did not involve violence or destruction. A legitimately elected leader, particularly one near the beginning of his rule, cannot be overthrown, and any attempt to do so is, by legal definition, seditious.

Although I think Morsi needs to be given more time (and a complete set of state institutions) before anything close to an absolute evaluation of his tenure is possible, I have taken issue with a number of his policies and positions, and he has at times moved too slowly on critical issues. Although increased efficiency during this stage would never have been able to prevent every possible tragedy or tangibly improve shattered institutions and processes, there is no question that Egypt needs to get moving on the right path more quickly. You might someday find me supporting a voting campaign against Morsi’s reelection. You will not find me, however, calling for, or encouraging in any way, the overthrow of a democratically elected leader.


Police Brutality Persists Two Years after Egypt Revolution: Rights Activists

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Following the recent death of activist Mohamed El-Gendy, who allegedly died after being subject to torture by police, several Egyptian rights activists issued a report on Sunday detailing what they see as the persistence of oppressive police tactics employed by the state.

According to the report, 225 people have been detained from the vicinity of Cairo's Tahrir Square since the second anniversary of Egypt's January 25 Revolution, which coincided with mass rallies against the government and President Mohamed Morsi.

Those detained have included minors who were subject to torture and days-long incarceration at Central Security Forces (CSF) training camps, the report asserts. Detentions were officially said to have been "pending investigation," but according to the report's authors, detentions were generally employed as punishment and were unnecessary to investigations.

The report notes one case in particular in which twelve young people – including eight minors – were referred to the Abbasiya prosecutor's office. The young people had reportedly suffered injuries as a result of police torture and were therefore detained for four days "pending investigation."

Egypt's April 6 Youth Movement also released a statement on Sunday asserting that one of its members, Hossam El-Din Abdel-Hamid, had gone missing. The youth group alleged that Abdel-Hamid had been detained, suggesting that that the interior ministry had refrained from referring him to prosecutors – along with others who had been detained with him – in order to conceal the torture he had been subject to at the hands of police.

"Abdel-Hamid was brutally beaten and is suffering from a severe injury and has not been referred to the prosecution until this minute," April 6 stated. "When we asked about him we were told by a police officer that he had been moved to the Khalifa Police Station…but when we went there to ask about him we were told he was at the Qasr El-Nil Police Station and there they again denied his presence."

The rights activists' report echoed the youth group's allegations, stating that many of those reported missing were later found to have been illegally detained, mostly in the Gabal El-Ahmar and Tora CSF training camps. Unlike prisons or police stations, neither of these facilities represent official detention centres.

"Most of those arrested [estimated at more than 600 since 25 January] are now being detained in CSF camps that are not made or equipped for detention," Malek Adly, a rights lawyer and one of the report's authors, told Ahram Online. "Unlike prisons or police stations, these camps aren't equipped to provide prisoners with meals, so detainees are often left without food or water for long periods."

The report added that since detainees were not referred to prosecutors they lacked any access to family members or lawyers.

Only after the media had exposed cases of missing persons, the report continued, eight of them were finally referred to the Qasr El-Nil prosecutor's office on 30 January – following five days of illegal detention. Abdeen's criminal court later ordered their immediate release, arguing that the means by which they were detained had been illegal.

Another five detainees were also allowed to return to their homes after four days of being illegally held, the report added.

On Monday, thousands of protesters marched in the funeral of slain activist Mohamed El-Gendy, who allegedly died from torture sustained while in police custody. The young activist's death has reignited debate on police brutality, against which large swathes of the Egyptian public rose up in the revolution two years ago.

"While many have been shocked by El-Gendy's death, he is not the first to die of torture during Morsi's rule," human rights activist Hossam Bahgat said via Twitter. "You only know his name because he's a political activist."

In January, the Cairo-based Egyptian Initiative for Personal Rights (EIPR) – of which Bahgat is a founding member – released a report documenting sixteen cases of police violence. The report noted that, since Morsi's assumption of the presidency last summer, eleven people had been killed and ten tortured inside Egyptian police stations.

"Police still use excessive force and torture is still systematic, just as it was under the Mubarak regime," the report stated.

In response to the EIPR's study, an interior ministry official – speaking anonymously – told AP that such claims were "untrue" and "full of exaggerations."

In response to El-Gendy's case, the presidency released a statement in which it insisted: "There has been no return to human rights abuses or violations of citizens' freedoms since the January 25 Revolution, especially now with the establishment of a constitutional state."

Nevertheless, a video has recently circulated online showing a man – later revealed to be fifty-year-old Hamada Saber – being beaten and dragged naked by CSF personnel. The incident was filmed during Friday's clashes between anti-government protesters and security forces outside the Presidential Palace in Cairo.

The interior ministry has since issued an official apology, asserting that the incident had constituted an "individual act" and did not reflect ministry policy. Public prosecutors are currently investigating the case.

The presidency, too, has condemned the police violence depicted in the footage.

"We are awaiting the outcome of the investigation, which should be released with transparency in accordance with the objectives of the January 25 Revolution," the presidency declared in a statement.

The statement went on to assert that the presidency was currently working "for the enforcement of constitutional articles that prohibit torture, intimidation, or causing individuals physical or psychological harm."

 

[Originally published in Ahram Online]

The Dignity of Hamada Saber

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Depictions of bruised and battered bodies have had an enormous influence upon the waves of protest Egypt has witnessed since the initial stirrings of the January 25 Revolution – from the graphic post-mortem photograph of Khaled Said to images of what is widely known as the “blue bra incident.” However, I suspect few Egyptians would question the particular force of the brutality depicted in a video shot in front of the Ittihadiyya Palace on the evening of 1 February, even as compared to the infamous scenes just mentioned. In an incident that was broadcast live to Egyptians on Al-Hayat television, and then rebroadcast to an international audience on CNN, a man is beaten, stripped naked, and dragged through the street by Egyptian police.

Beyond the degree of brutality depicted in the video, what sets this latest scene apart is how much Egyptians have come to know not only about the background to the incident, but indeed, about the incident’s denouement – specifically, how the Egyptian police sought to contain the impact of the video, and how these measures ultimately caused still further violence to the victim and his family.

Through extensive coverage on the leading talk shows of the Egyptian private television networks – among them, Orbit’s “Al-Qahira al-Yawm” and Dream’s “Al-Ashira Masa’an” – viewers have come to learn that the victim of the attack was Hamada Saber Ali, a fifty-year-old resident of the Cairo neighborhood of Matariya. So great was the demand for information about the victim of the attack that the television channel ONTV managed to reach Hamada’s wife, Fathiya, by telephone only a matter of hours after the incident.

In the midst of the interview, broadcast live, suspicions immediately emerged that Fathiya was under pressure to repeat a police narrative of the assault. That Hamada found himself in the care of a police hospital only intensified concerns about whether Hamada or his family could speak without coercion about what had happened to him in front of the palace. Such concerns were substantiated when Hamada, plainly contrary to the video record of the incident, suggested that protesters rather than the police were responsible for assaulting him.

The disconnect between Hamada’s testimony and the facts of the assault became jarringly clear when one of the victim’s daughters, Randa, an eyewitness to the incident, contradicted her father’s testimony in a series of media interviews the day after the assault, insisting that the police were responsible. In doubtless one of the most bizarre encounters that has appeared on Egyptian television in recent memory, Hamada directly accused his daughter of misleading the public in the midst of Orbit’s talk show “Al-Qahira al-Yawm.”

Bizarre certainly, but heartbreaking too, because here was a family fracturing live before the eyes of the nation – fracturing as a direct result of police coercion. Not only had the police broken the body of Hamada Saber, but they were breaking his family apart as well.

Once Hamada was transferred from a police hospital to a government hospital, his testimony came to match that of his daughter Randa. Although there remain determined attempts to impugn Hamada’s character, with the front page of the Freedom and Justice Party newspaper accusing him of carrying eighteen fire bombs, what comes across most powerfully in the coverage of this man and his family is an extraordinary dignity.

Indeed, despite the dangers her father clearly faced in what amounted to police custody, Randa Hamada Saber insisted on the accountability of the police for her father’s assault. This confidence, this dignity derived not from material comfort – her family lives in a single room, and shares a bathroom and kitchen with two separate families – but from a profoundly held sense of what is just and what is not.

While Hamada doubtless still faces intimidation from the police, he faces ridicule from those who accuse him of cowardice. The former is of course repugnant, but the latter I find almost doubly so. The high and mighty who find fault with Hamada have not lived in his shoes. The January 25 Revolution, the “dignity revolution,” was for Hamada, after all. That he should have lied under police coercion, after suffering so brutal an attack, is testimony only to the revolution’s shortcomings – not Hamada’s.

Why Students in Solidarity with Palestine Should Not Join The Olive Tree Initiative

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The Olive Tree Initiative (OTI) calls itself a “conflict analysis” project. Started in 2007 at the University of California Irvine, it is now present at multiple UC campuses. OTI is often referred to as a “dialogue project,” and its mission statement reads as follows:

The mission of the Olive Tree Initiative (OTI) is to promote conflict analysis and resolution through Experiential Education by providing students and community with the education, training, and experiences needed to better negotiate and solve conflicts.

This might sound like an admirable venture at first. However, OTI’s “standards and ethics” indicate that the organization is adamant about remaining “apolitical” when approaching the “conflict.” Those of us who understand the realities on the ground know that this “conflict” is defined by the Israeli government’s discrimination, occupation, and displacement of Palestinians. OTI-affiliated groups pledge to remain “non-partisan and apolitical,” are not allowed to “engage in political activism,” and must be committed to providing “balanced and varied points of view.” In fact, these groups commit themselves to providing “perspectives and counter-perspectives on issues relevant to the same event or program when possible.”

Privileging Balance Over Truth

Nowhere in this mission statement is there any mention of the word “truth.” This is not a project aimed at determining the answer to a question, getting to a conclusion, or finding a solution to the problems of discrimination, occupation, and displacement. That is because OTI maintains an almost mechanical commitment to balance. In other words, no matter what perspective is offered, the organization is committed to the idea of balancing it with something, anything, else, no matter its legitimacy, factuality, or morality. In effect, OTI balances truths and solutions with confusion and excuses. For example, the perspective of a Palestinian in the West Bank whose home has been illegally demolished must be balanced by the perspective of the mayor of the settlement that has taken that land. One side offers the law, the other side offers justifications for breaking it, but both voices are given equal legitimacy. Seen against the backdrop of the recent 138-9 vote in favor of Palestinian rights at the United Nations, we should understand this forced balance as an effort to recast what is a global consensus as if it were an unsettled question.

While OTI claims that this effort to provide balance is aimed at educating students who will then go on to become advocates, presenting such a multitude of perspectives as if they were equal undermines that goal in two ways. On the one hand, the approach gives all perspectives presented equal credibility. It provides legitimacy to arguments that do not deserve it, and it makes it so that Palestinian and anti-occupation voices can never be heard alone, without the presence of an opposing pro-occupation voice. On the other hand, it gives the false impression of providing a safe space to advocate for Palestine—meaning, without the stigma of being “pro-Palestinian” or the pressure of openly hostile university administrators and outside groups. However, the reality is that any advocacy inside a closed dialogue is severely constrained—both in terms of reach and in terms of the rules regulating that dialogue—such that it can in no way, shape, or form serve as a substitute for public organizing similar to that done by SJP and other activist groups. Beyond the limited number of participants, there is the issue that committed Zionists are not the core target audience of Palestine solidarity activism—just as committed Republicans are not the core target audience of community organizing efforts in defense of social safety nets or the right of women to have control over their own bodies. Rather, it is everyone else.

It is also worth pointing out that an insistence on balance is not unique to OTI. One can find it in US politicians’ recent attacks on the Boycott, Divestment, and Sanctions (BDS) event at Brooklyn College, featured prominently in the recommendations made in this summer’s censorious UC Campus Climate Reports, and in the hasbara manuals offered by pro-Israel groups. For example, the Israel Action Network recommends emphasizing a diversity of perspectives in its report entitled, “Best Practices for Countering the Assault on Israel’s Legitimacy.”

Violating the Palestinian Call for Boycott, Divestment, and Sanctions (BDS)

In 2005, Palestinian civil society issued a call for international supporters of Palestinian rights to use boycott, divestment, and sanctions tactics to pressure Israel into ending the occupation, granting its Palestinian citizens equality, and respecting the rights of refugees.

The BDS guidelines also specifically ask that people who are in solidarity with the Palestinian struggle cease to participate in normalization projects. Normalization generally occurs when an organization decides not to take a position against the multiple violations of Palestinian rights, and works instead to balance pro- and anti-Zionist perspectives. This false symmetry amounts to putting a finger on the scales of justice, portraying positions that seek to deny Palestinian rights and violate international law as equal to positions that seek to achieve Palestinian rights and international law. The Palestinian Campaign for the Academic and Cultural Boycott of Israel (PACBI) has made it clear that:

[I]nternational supporters of BDS are asked to refrain from participating in any event that morally or politically equates the oppressor and oppressed, and presents the relationship between Palestinians and Israelis as symmetrical.  Such an event should be boycotted because it normalizes Israel’s colonial domination over Palestinians and ignores the power structures and relations embedded in the oppression.” (See sixth point of PACBI’s BDS guidelines.)

OTI is quite transparent in that its purpose as an organization is not to further the cause of Palestinian rights. But by not working to challenge Israeli policies towards Palestinians, OTI violates BDS guidelines. As PACBI explains,

Such events and projects, often seeking to encourage dialogue or “reconciliation between the two sides” without addressing the requirements of justice, promote the normalization and perpetuation of oppression and injustice. All such events and projects that bring Palestinians and/or Arabs and Israelis together, unless based on unambiguous recognition of Palestinian rights and framed within the explicit context of opposition to occupation and other forms of Israeli oppression of the Palestinians, are strong candidates for boycott. (See sixth point of PACBI’s BDS guidelines)

These PACBI statements should not be treated like just one of many perspectives on the issue. Rather, they represent a call that we must respond to. Students who recognize that solidarity means respecting the guidance and strategy of Palestinian civil society should also recognize that normalization projects violate the requests made by over 170 Palestinian political parties, unions, refugee associations, women’s groups, and academic and cultural institutions that span across the West Bank, East Jerusalem, the Gaza Strip, the Palestinian community in Israel, and the diaspora. Therefore, choosing to participate in a normalization project while claiming to be in solidarity with Palestinians is a contradiction.

Critical Perspectives on Dialogue

Students for Justice in Palestine (SJP) and Palestine solidarity organizations are often misrepresented as being categorically against dialogue. This is not true. Dialogue can be empowering and liberating when it recognizes the fundamental differences in power between the oppressor and the oppressed, and when it occurs between parties that share the same basic values. And it is not the case that dialogue can only be between pro and anti-occupation groups. At most universities, SJPs have the option to connect with other student groups who might not be aware of the Palestinian cause, but whose interest in social justice would lead them to support it. As long as our organizations share the same basic commitment to getting to truth and upholding shared principles of equal rights and international law, we can create meaningful bonds where none previously existed. The remarkable bonds created between SJP and MEChA at UCLA are a testament to this fact.

OTI could become a legitimate project by recognizing the power difference between oppressor and oppressed, as well as by orienting its work around a reasonable goal—such as supporting the pursuit of justice and respect for international law. This would offer a basis from which to discern between the arguments offered by the settler and the farmer who lost his land. It would mean figuring out the root causes of the current situation, and thinking about solutions that will protect fundamental rights and ensure equality for an oppressed people. Equal rights is not an extreme principle. It is not an idea that should alienate or offend people. Nor should it be balanced.  

So what does it mean when the Olive Tree Initiative refuses to commit itself to something so basic and un-offensive? What does it mean that the Olive Tree Initiative will not even oppose the uprooting and destruction of olive trees in the West Bank—the ultimate irony given the organization’s appropriation of such an important Palestinian symbol? To not take the side of the oppressed does not mean that OTI is being neutral. It means that OTI has become complicit in oppression. 


[The author thanks Tom Pessah for his advice and comments.]

Fixing the Paris Protocol Twenty Years Later: Frequently Asked Questions for Diehard Reformers

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"All along the watchtower, princes kept the view
While all the women came and went, barefoot servants, too.
Outside in the distance a wildcat did growl
Two riders were approaching, the wind began to howl."

Bob Dylan, All Along the Watchtower

As many articles like this will certainly remind us that this year, 2013, commemorates two decades since the signing of the Oslo Declaration of Principles between Israel and the PLO. The endurance of what was supposed to be a five-year interim agreement is likely to be the subject of growing scrutiny from policy-makers, academics, international organizations, donors and Palestinians more generally. While such a retrospective is predictable if nothing else out of nostalgia for the euphoria of peacemaking in the 1990s and as material for today’s media mill, some of the central pillars of the Oslo framework are increasingly challenged on the ground. 

True, Israeli-Palestinian security cooperation appears comparatively solid and unassailable—having been the sub-rosa of the Oslo arrangements from an Israeli perspective and for this reason Israel has made it work. Nevertheless, it is frequently tested at flashpoints with a restless population and the continued assertion of the Israeli security-first logic. But the “interim self-government arrangements” and the political system that Oslo created seem to have lost much of their credibility for a largely passive, if discontented, Palestinian public weary of unfulfilled promises of liberation and statehood. Meanwhile, a break-away “self-governing” political system has taken hold in the Gaza Strip and instead of one Palestinian Government, we now have two.

The other key premise - and promise - of Oslo was the potential of Israeli-Palestinian-Arab-international economic cooperation, which would in turn deliver prosperity to the Palestinian people. The September 2012 popular protests throughout the West Bank rudely repudiated these assumptions, perhaps always naïve and only recently subject to critical political assessment. Among the targets of popular ire was the Paris Protocol on Economic Relations, annexed to the Oslo agreements. Many demonstrators identified the Protocol as a key instrument in the Israeli system of colonial control, occupation, and denial of sovereignty. The calls for its abrogation were explicit, and to make the point its effigy was burnt in some protests.


[Image of a protest in Ramallah calling for the ending of the Paris Economic Protocol.  Image by Tal King.]

However, the broader popular contestation did not focus so much on the Protocol or Oslo frameworks per se as on those politicians managing them. In response, Prime Minister Fayyad reminded his critics that he was not responsible for negotiating the Protocol and that his government faced a sub-optimal situation in implementing it, even while insisting on its continued suitability as a framework for the Palestinian economy. But popular mobilization was unable, beyond newspaper headlines and op-eds, to prompt a serious public or policy debate on the pros and cons of the Protocol and its continued application. While a growing critical chorus (not only Palestinian) has emerged over the years, the only party on record that is still unwilling to reconsider or re-negotiate the Protocol is Israel.

From the manner in which popular concern about the Protocol has receded from the political agenda, it would appear that expert and popular discontent with the Israeli-Palestinian economic relations has yet to go beyond scratching the surface of this issue. Over twenty years, that relationship and future options have been repeatedly debated, if rarely challenged, with little change in the status-quo, indeed with a major degradation in economic conditions as compared to the “golden era” of cooperation in the flush of the post-Oslo euphoria. Furthermore, it is likely that the balance of economic and political power and experts wedded to the concept of the two-state solution (on both sides of the equation) cannot countenance “opening” the Paris Protocol, which is an Annex to the broader Oslo framework, without putting the whole package into question. The more tangible issue of the PA fiscal and public sector salary crisis has recently revived expert comment and public mobilization. The debate is currently focused on the twin deficit created by shortfalls in donor aid and, more systematically, by PA public revenue dependence on the goodwill of the occupation authorities, as if these could be treated in isolation from a re-examination of the Protocol or Oslo. 

The economic problems that have evoked popular contestation (taxation, inflation, employment, salaries, wages, poverty, and public utility provision, to name but a few) have been amenable only to stopgap remedies. There is no sustainable solution at hand. And the intrinsic link between current economic woes and the Protocol will understandably continue to assert itself and demand serious attention, prompting-- if nothing else-- an effort to rehabilitate the Protocol in practice, if not in perception. So it should come as no surprise that Palestinian and international policy circles are again posing questions as to whether and how the Protocol can be modified, amended, enhanced, or otherwise “reconsidered” as the appropriate framework for Israeli-Palestinian economic relations, indeed for the future development of the Palestinian economy and of an independent state of Palestine. 


[Image of a protest in Ramallah calling for the end of the Paris Economic Protocol on 1 October 2012.  Image by Tal King.]

As two observers and practitioners who have followed the (mis)fortunes of the Protocol since its infancy, we would like to offer our own candid contribution to exposing it for what it is today.  

We recognize that amidst the current conventional wisdom about the collapse of Oslo or the PA, renewing the arguments in favor of scrapping the Protocol might seem like flogging a dead horse.

But efforts to rehabilitate the Protocol (or save Oslo) should be expected from different quarters. These efforts may be motivated for example by the good intentions of some European or Israeli liberal think-tanks in the belief that the two-state solution can be salvaged by prolonging economic peace and repackaging the Protocol. Israeli colonial planners might also be interested in a new version of Paris since its original elaboration has withstood Palestinian resistance, which continues to be ineffective, even if vocal. International organizations and major donors with a stake in the ultimate predominance of the neoliberal experiment that Oslo/Paris constitutes will also see more virtue in sticking with the Protocol. PA policy makers and business interests might also entertain reforming the Protocol, still believing, despite all evidence to the contrary, that it offers the optimal political and economic framework for Palestinian development.  While political stalemate might discourage the PA from actively pursuing a re-negotiated, improved version of the Protocol, any resumption of a political process would demand a parallel economic process, especially given the pending, September 2012 PA request to Israel to “re-open” the Protocol.

We offer here our own selection of Frequently Asked Questions and answers about “fixing” the Protocol, to which we suspect that many concerned parties are today urgently searching for answers. We would like to save some time and effort of those who seek to breathe new life into the moribund Protocol. Even better, maybe this foray can prompt those concerned to ask the right questions about how to secure Palestinian economic security and development aspirations, instead of trying to optimize a dysfunctional and inherently imbalanced Israeli-Palestinian “economic relation.”


FAQ 1. Are the gaps and shortfalls of the Protocol itself and in its implementation really insurmountable? 

Yes. Fiscal leakage is widely recognized by all international organizations, and has long been the subject of Palestinian complaints, as the biggest weakness in the Protocol’s fabric. This is due to a cumbersome, costly, and opaque “clearance” mechanism that leaves all the information and levers in the hands of the Israeli Ministries of Finance and Defense.  A forthcoming UNCTAD study confirms over 200 million US dollars worth of documented annual leakage because of weak customs control, antiquated clearance arrangements, and tax avoidance that the Protocol has made possible. This implies a cumulative amount since 2005 that is equivalent to the fiscal deficit the PA has run up since 2001. The latter has reached around 1.5 billion US dollars. While Palestinian-Israeli “technical” discussions in 2012 reportedly addressed new procedures to capture leaking fiscal revenue, Israeli sources have never admitted more than seventy million US dollars annual lost PA revenue. Thus any attempt to secure foregone revenue would most likely be a Sisyphean task. 

On a conceptual and economic policy level, the absence of a national currency (and hence, lack of resort to macroeconomic and exchange rate policy) is one of the Protocol’s most enduring weaknesses. Trade diversion to Israel (instead of creating new trade with other partners) is another chronic burden on the prospect for building a strong Palestinian economy. Most significantly, the tariff structure of Israel is one appropriate for an advanced, industrialized, and increasingly outward looking economy. But the tariff structure required to rebuild the Palestinian economy and allow it to stand on its feet so it can "compete" implies a very different stance towards external trade than that which suits Israel. The existing quasi- “Customs Union” (CU) between the Palestinian and Israeli economies does not allow such differentiation. It remains, as it has always been the least attractive option from a Palestinian developmental angle. It remains, as it has always been, the optimal arrangement from the occupiers’ point of view as it allows for maximum capture of markets, revenue, and security interest of the colonial power. 

Even the World Bank agreed with the Palestinian position when, under the pressure of the Intifada and Israeli separation measures, both were emboldened in 2002 to call for abandoning the CU with Israel and opting for a separate trade regime. But the PA has in recent years reaffirmed its commitment to the Protocol. It has also renewed Panglossian arguments which were fashionable in the 1990s that the CU is the best possible option, effectively bucking all the expert wisdom. Since then, the Bank too has reformulated its position and reverted to supporting the counter arguments of Israel and a small minority of Palestinians that an autonomous trade regime was the least appropriate option. The shift in positions is a function of different assumptions; however, the facts on the grounds continue to prove the inoperability of the CU for the Palestinians and the impracticality of a FTA under occupation and colonisation.  


FAQ 2: Are there any lessons that can be learnt from amendments made to the Protocol since it was first agreed in 1994?

Not much. No mutually agreed amendments have ever been made to the Protocol, even though certain items were added and quotas were raised on lists of goods that the Protocol allowed import from Arab and Islamic countries. This did not require amendments as such and the Protocol remains on paper very much as conceived twenty years ago. The PA never pursued the areas where it could have been amended. The one  exception was at Camp David in 2000 when the chief Palestinian economic negotiator and former Minister of Economy, Maher Masri, succeeded in obtaining an agreement in principle with the Israeli Finance Minister on abandoning the CU in favour of a Free Trade Area (FTA). This would not have meant an amendment to the Protocol but rather its abrogation. But the key benefit to Palestine of an FTA (not to mention a CU), namely free labor movement, was not something Israel was willing to agree to then (and hardly today). This rendered the idea of an FTA unattractive from the Palestinian viewpoint and if nothing else, should rule out a continued CU.

By 2002 and in the face of the Israeli separation policy, Minister Masri and the PA were actively reassessing the costs and benefits of Palestinian separation from the Israeli economy. For a few years the PA sought actively to build new trade channels to the Arab east and move towards a Most Favoured Nation relation with Israel. This is also known as non-discriminatory treatment (i.e. no negotiated bilateral trade/economic agreement with Israel with any greater preference than accorded other trade partners). But as the intifada ground to a halt and Israeli control was reasserted, Palestinian hopes for breaking out of the CU stranglehold receded. Thus, a discussion today about an “enhanced” CU lives up to that old definition of insanity: doing the same thing again and again and expecting different results.


FAQ 3: The Protocol established a Joint Economic Committee (JEC) as a mechanism for supervising and arbitration, while other mechanisms discussed other trade and economic issues: can’t that serve as a conduit for resolving differences?

No. The JEC was not designed or used as a mechanism for trade arbitration, since it was predicated on a five-year interim self-government period that was treated by both parties as one best spent managing the new quasi-CU arrangements, however imperfect, rather than building a correctly functioning CU.  [Read more…] Essentially,Israel used the JEC as a forum where the PA could raise implementation hiccups and, depending on how urgent they were or how accommodative Israel was at any moment, some “treatment” would be decided. Follow-up usually entailed the establishment of a “new” JEC sub-committee at the technical level that met for months before agreeing or not on any given step, incrementally, in a piecemeal and discretionary manner responding to commercial demands as they arose, not as part of any strategic economic cooperation process. By the end of the 1990s, the JEC was still meeting. After the Wye River Accords of 1998, its image was slightly revived with approval of some extensions to lists A and B that the PA had demanded for several years. But increasingly the JEC became dominated by the PA Civil Affairs Ministry and its concerns and interests rather than Minister of Economy and Trade (or Finance), which should have directed PA interaction with the JEC. 

Thus, Israel succeeded in manipulating the JEC as another of the "bilateral" instruments for prolonged occupation, drawing PA officials into a collaborative logic instead of a state-building process. Since the 2000 intifada, the JEC at the Ministerial level has been defunct, except for one brief, abortive meeting in 2009. Some of its sub-mechanisms persist to manage daily affairs, but largely as implementation mechanisms for Israel to inform the PA of its due tax clearance revenues, changes in Israeli tariffs or laws, and other one-way "coordination." Simply put, the JEC is clinically dead. There is no need for life support, much less resurrection, through wishful thinking.


FAQ 4. Given the impact on the Palestinian economy and on trade and clearance revenue of the Israeli disengagement from Gaza, and with the possibility of opening the borders with Egypt, could the reestablishment of PA presence at Rafah be a step towards a Protocol Version 2?

No. If anything, the new circumstances in Gaza spell the de facto, if not de jure, termination of the Protocol in that part of Palestine. As part of its broader colonial strategy of dividing the Palestinian people and ruling each under the appropriate regime, the Gaza disengagement provided a suitable way for Israel to shed itself of the economic "burden" of having to support the "hostile entity" that Gaza was designated. Within a few years of disengaging from direct occupation, Israel also deleted the Gaza code from its customs book, symbolizing its capacity to unilaterally cut economic links to such an “enemy territory.” The PA-Hamas divide since 2007 deepened that cut and played into Israel’s strategy. The two territories became separately fiscally and commercially dependent on Israel or on donors and humanitarian relief, each through different channels and on different terms that Israel mediated and decided. This has had a devastating impact on the prospects for realizing the principle of Oslo that the West Bank and Gaza Strip are an integral economy and geographic entity, not to mention rendering the economic viability of statehood a chimera.
 

FAQ5: Could bringing East Jerusalem (EJ) into the equation make Israeli-Palestinian economic relations more attractive to the Palestinians?

No. Such a prospect borders on the realm of the hallucinatory. As a forthcoming UNCTAD report demonstrates, the East Jerusalem economy finds itself in a world quite apart from the Palestinian and Israeli, economies to which it is linked. It is integrated into neither. At the same time, it is structurally dependent on the West Bank economy to sustain its production and trade of goods and services and for employment. It is forcibly dependent on Israeli markets whose regulations and systems it must conform to and which serves as a source of employment, trade, and tourism. 

These paradoxical relations have left the East Jerusalem economy to fend for itself in a developmental limbo, severed from PA jurisdiction and subordinated to the Jewish population imperatives and settlement strategies of Israeli municipal and state authorities. Just as the economic growth pattern and overall direction of the Gaza Strip in recent years has veered in a distinct and separate direction from the West Bank, so has East Jerusalem’s economic trajectory diverged from that of the West Bank. These trends render the notion, enshrined in United Nations resolutions and the Oslo Accords, that the Gaza Strip and the West Bank, including East Jerusalem, constitute a single territorial and legal entity null and void. Integrating East Jerusalem in a proven dysfunctional economic agreement would only further fragment its fragile economy and alienate its Palestinian population.


FAQ 6. Can the building of modern border terminals, bonded warehouses, and other facilities improve the flow of trade? 

No. If the Israeli authorities have their way, soon all trade with the PA areas A and B of the West Bank will pass through sixteen “border crossings” that Israel is unilaterally establishing along the Separation Barrier. Israel intends to gradually develop these crossings into full fledged commercial trade terminals, in some cases linked to inland “bonded warehouses”.  These arrangements are not sanctioned by the Protocol. They run against the very spirit of a CU. They constitute new realities following the security-first logic of the Barrier, which Israel justifies as de facto realities. They hark back to previous Israeli schemes, packaged in a more attractive form and rationalized by the need to trace “actual trade.” The PA may well be pressured to accept this proposition under the slogan of trade facilitation and capturing leakage. But in fact this would mean acquiescing to something that was resisted since the 1990s whenever Israeli authorities proposed inland "customs stations" which would not necessarily be on 1967 lines but dictated by Israeli settlement/roads/security lines in the West Bank. Beitunieh commercial terminal outside Ramallah was the first of such “stations.”

While more information should be revealed on recent Palestinian Israeli discussions on this complex issue, it should not be considered as an existing implementation mechanism of the Protocol. This rather implies a separate, new arrangement that would impose other changes that would effectively take matters well beyond the Protocol in terms of the effective trade regime in place. In case the Barrier borders, customs stations, and bonded warehouses are not going to be established along the 1967 borders, then it is incumbent upon the Palestinian side to examine whether continuation of the CU is reasonable.

One of the impediments to agreeing a FTA with Israel at Camp David in 2000 was how to control complex “rules of origin,” something that required border controls and customs capacity that the PA did not have then. If such border crossings/terminals (which are actually best termed “customs stations,” since they are not all on the borders) are now being planned, the PA will need sophisticated customs capacity to control and inspect, something that it could deploy fairly rapidly given the modernization and experience of PA Customs in the past decade.  In such an eventuality, PA institutional capacity would be better applied to moving to an FTA with Israel, which would minimize the disadvantages of the Israeli-imposed trade infrastructure, while conferring benefits from new trade with other partners. Even Professor Ephraim Kleiman, the Israeli economist godfather of the “Palestinian “customs envelope,” believes today that this would allow greater Palestinian policy discretion in managing its trade with the rest of the world and eventually decrease Israeli domination of the Palestinian external trade sector.


FAQ 7. Can the UN resolution granting Palestine a non-member state status be a basis for strengthening Palestinian economic bargaining position with Israel?

Hmmmmm. Using rosy-tinted glasses to peer into the future, the only way that there could be any translation on the ground of the UN resolution and the subsequent transformation of the PA into the "State of Palestine" would be through political and economic reunification of the West Bank and Gaza. [Read more…] In such an eventuality, with a "State of Palestine" national government based in Gaza, it could apply a range of trade, fiscal, and even monetary instruments appropriate to governing the under the new circumstances. Israel unilaterally removed Gaza from the CU envelope and the area has demonstrated huge potential for trade with/through Egypt. A new growth trajectory, and a new narrative of Palestinian development under adversity, has emerged there that demonstrate other Palestinian options than the PA’s choice of a neoliberal economic model. 

A move to establish an autonomous Palestinian trade regime in Gaza could be envisaged even while maintaining the PA self-government arrangements in the West Bank more or less in cooperation with Israel and without prejudice to the ultimate disposition of the rest of the occupied territory. In Gaza, a Palestinian currency could be introduced, providing a range of hitherto inaccessible macroeconomic policy instruments to generate growth and public revenues. Indeed, the longstanding Palestinian argument that the occupied territory constitutes a “separate customs territory” that renders Palestine eligible for membership in the World Trade Organization would receive a credible boost in such a circumstance. If economic policy duality is the price to be paid for political unity, then the Palestinian institutional capacities needed for such a complex strategic orientation would have to be mobilized within a new framework of “economic nationalism” that sheds the Oslo legacy of Israeli control and Palestinian subservience.


FAQ 8. Aren’t there any future options to renegotiate the Protocol, expand its coverage to Arab countries and involve international third parties? 

No. Further trade or economic negotiations should not be pursued bilaterally with Israel, nor should they be focused on optimizing the Israeli-Palestinian economic relation. At best, in the context of WTO-sponsored negotiations, a future trade relation with Israel and all other countries could be discussed multilaterally as part of constructing a new Palestinian trade regime that protects its developmental interests and puts an end to Israeli trade and economic sanctions, which are manifestly illegal under international trade law. To the extent that it can, the "State of Palestine" should begin to act unilaterally to move beyond the Protocol (even while not explicitly having to repudiate it or Oslo) in any part of Palestinian territory that it can do so.

The only "improvement" that could be sought for current trade flows to the West Bank is full monitoring and capture of PA revenue leakage through new clearance mechanisms that do not entail in return any acceptance of the change in the legal and political status quo. Beyond that, any changes that the occupying power intends to impose (barriers, terminals, warehouses) that imply any "amendment" to the Protocol or other negotiated agreement should be avoided. Instead, all public and private sector efforts should be focused on breaking free of the Israeli stranglehold on trade, through for example, establishing a trade corridor to Jordan through Allenby, supporting viable import substitution efforts, and designing a new trade regime that responds to national economic security in all parts of the occupied “State of Palestine.”

[The views expressed in this article are those of the authors and do not necessarily represent those of the PLO Negotiations Affairs Department or the United Nations secretariat.]

Tunisian Opposition Leader, Chokri Belaid, Assassinated

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This morning, news slowly trickled in through national and international media following reports of Chokri Belaid's assassination. Initial reports claimed Belaid died from two bullets to the head outside his home in Tunis, but medical reports followed up and clarified that there were four, not two. Immediately after news of his assassination surfaced, Tunisians mobilized across Tunis, with marches heading towards the Ministry of Interior and marches following the path of Belaid's ambulance. Police responded with tear gas and warning shots near the Ministry of Interior.

Chokri Belaid was a prominent leftist politician, secretary general of the Democratic Patriotic Party (Watad), and a leader of the political opposition, the Popular Front coalition. Belaid's assassination marks a shift in the post-Ben Ali democratic transition, with many speculating the escalation of violence. Meanwhile, below are snapshots of reactions and what is being said on social media:

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