De paradox van de Egyptische revolutie

 
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 Door Osama Diab

De Egyptische revolutie was een geval van collectieve en spontane genialiteit. Maar dit succes in het verkopen van de opstand kwam op een prijs

Thursday 18 April 2013

Arabic version

Photo: © Zaza Bertrand

Photo: © Zaza Bertrand

Twee factoren versterkten de slagkracht van de Egyptische revolutie: ten eerste was men zich volledig bewust van de impact van de beelden die de wereld werden ingestuurd en besefte men hoe belangrijk deze waren in de perceptie van de gebeurtenissen.

Men was ervan overtuigd dat deze revolutie een rijke erfenis zou nalaten. Honderdduizenden mobiele telefoons en honderden professionele camera’s registreerden elk lied, vlag, kwetsuur, dode, traan, lach, schot en gebed. De zoekopdracht ‘Egyptian revolution’ levert op Google alleen al in het Engels negen miljoen beelden op. En dan hebben we het nog niet over het aantal zoekresultaten in andere talen.

Ten tweede was er de nood aan steun. Er was het verlangen te kunnen rekenen op de sympathie, de empathie, het inzicht en de erkenning van de hele wereld.

Om succesvol te zijn en sympathie op te wekken, moest de revolutie zich inpassen in de idealen die de westerse media propageren. Aangezien men dit besefte, was er geen tekort aan Engelstalige spandoeken op het Tahrirplein, klaar om door de camera’s geregistreerd en doorgestuurd te worden.

Een van de meest bekende en centrale spandoeken op het Tahrirplein was “het volk wil de val van het regime”, het motto van de revolutie, zowel in het Arabisch als het Engels.

Een jongeman droeg een tweetalig bord waarop stond “Facebook tegen iedere tiran”, wat benadrukt dat het geschoolde, stedelijke Egyptenaren uit de middenklasse waren die deze opstand leidden. Betogers, de ene al wat vloeiender in het Engels dan de andere, waren enthousiast om de internationale media toe te spreken om de sympathie van de internationale gemeenschap te winnen.

“We zullen niet zwijgen, of je nu moslim, christen of atheist bent”, riep een salafistische manifestant in perfect Amerikaans Engels. Door het discours van de Westerse media over mensen die eruitzien als hem, is de jongeman het soort persoon naast wie men zich in een vliegtuig niet helemaal comfortabel zouvoelen. Het feit dat hij sprak zoals ‘wij’ en ‘onze’ warden deelde, bezorgde de Egyptische revolutie een gunstig imago.

“Dit is heel slecht, voor mij en mijn regering” roept een andere, oudere, man in zwaar gebroken Engels terwijl hij op weg is naar één van de meest dodelijke demonstraties, die van 28 januari 2011. “Ik heb geen eten, ik heb niets. Ik en mijn kinderen. Ik ga vandaag sterven!” Hoe kan iemand niet sympathiseren met deze ongewapende en niet-ideologische oude man, wiens enige ambitie is zichzelf en zijn kleine kinderen te kunnen voeden?

Dit is hoe een revolutie eruitziet in een tijdperk van geglobaliseerde media: de Egyptische revolutie moest de hele wereld, de media, politici, NGO’s en burgers overtuigen. Men moest ter plaatse public relations en marketingcampagnes verzorgen en leren omgaan met de media die het Tahrirplein massaal inpalmden.

Eén van de belangrijkste en sterkste beelden van de revolutie was dat van koptische christenen die een menselijke cirkel vormden rond moslims om hen te beschermen tijdens het bidden. Beelden van vrouwelijke dokters die de gewonde betogers behandelden en video’s van vreugdevolle liederen en humoristische spreekkoren hebben de harten en de geesten van miljoenen overal ter wereld beroerd.

Hoe zou een politicus kunnen verantwoorden dat hij een dergelijke egalitaire revolutie niet zou steunen? Hoe kan om het even welk systeem dat vrijheid en democratie predikt een dictator steunen tegen deze eisen in van de betogers en hun demografische samenstelling?

Photo: ©Harry Gruyaert

Photo: ©Harry Gruyaert

Aanhangers van de revolutie waren er snel bij om deze krachtige beelden te verspreiden. Deze beantwoorden nauwelijks aan de stereotypen gecreëerd door de wereldmedia en hun post-Koude-Oorlogsdiscours, waarin naties met een meerderheid aan moslims officieel de voormalige Sovjetstaten hebben vervangen als de ‘Andere’ van het Westen. Het was precies dit verwerpen van identiteitsdenken dat noodzakelijk was om Mubarak ten val te brengen. Het was het ongeplande doel en het onuitgesproken akkoord om, door nadrukkelijk nietideologisch te zijn, de wereldleiders moreel te verplichten der evolutie te steunen.

Wanneer we kijken naar de ontwikkeling van de Amerikaanse reactie tijdens die achttien dagen, wordt meteen duidelijk dat dit spontane, aan de basis ontsproten propagandaplan bijzonder doeltreffend was. In de vroege dagen van de revolutie weigerde de Amerikaanse vice-president Joe Biden Mubarak als een dictator te omschrijven, hoewel een eindeloos aantal internationale organisaties, inclusief Bidens eigen ministerie van Buitenlandse Zaken, Egypte veroordeelden vanwege zijn bijzonder zwakke mensenrechtenreputatie. President Obama zelf had eerder Egyptes corrupte dictator omschreven als een ‘vriend’ en een ‘factor van stabiliteit’.

Enkele dagen later begon minister van Buitenlandse Zaken Hillary Clinton te praten over ‘hervorming’, maar nog niet over ‘verandering’, toen ze commentaar gaf over wat er diende te gebeuren in Egypte in de periode die later bekend is geworden als een revolutie.

Naar het einde van de achttien dagen toe, veranderde de Obama-administratie haar toon drastisch. Mubarak was niet langer een ‘vriend’ of een ‘factor van stabiliteit’ en in plaats van ‘hervorming’ werd er gepraat over onmiddellijk opstappen. “De transitie moet nu beginnen,” zei president Obama enkele dagen voor de val van de Egyptische dictator.

Het was, minstens ten dele, een gevolg van de kracht van het beeld. Als de minste hint van identiteitspolitiek zichtbaar was geweest op het Tahrirplein, dan zou Mubarak nu nog steeds aan de macht zijn met steun en hulp van de VS.

Als iemand dit revolutionaire festival had willen vergallen, zou de gemakkelijkste wijze geweest zijn de Israëlische of de Amerikaanse vlag te verbranden en Fox News de rest te laten doen. Men kan zich afvragen waarom Mubarak hier niet aan gedacht heeft.

De revolutie bereikte pas zijn kritische massa en keerpunt nadat duidelijk werd dat we niet méér vroegen dan de rechten die men in het Westen geniet. Wij zijn geen radicale islamisten.

Wij zijn niet antisemitisch. Wij zijn geen militante marxisten. We gebruiken Facebook net zoals u en we spreken net zo goed Engels als u. We passen niet in één van de door de media gecreëerde vooroordelen die u van ‘ons’ hebt.

Dit was een klassiek geval van collectieve intelligentie. Ik twijfel er geen seconde aan dat de meeste betogers werkelijk in deze waarden geloven, maar het talent om de revolutie te promoten en te marketen zonder media-, reclame- of PR-plan is niets minder dan een daad van collectieve en spontane genialiteit.

Een discours dat zich zo expliciet op deze ontegensprekelijk universele en nobele waarden beroept, kan toch geen weerstand opwekken?

Het addertje onder het gras

Om de steun van de wereld te winnen, gebruikten de revolutionairen een politiek correct discours over vrijheid en democratie. Het probleem zit hem echter in de aard van het concept “discours.” Elk discours impliceert namelijk een kluwen van vaak onuitgesproken conceptuele relaties tussen objecten, concepten, symbolen, beelden, waarden en axioma’s. Binnen een discours is een uitspraak over de ene waarde onlosmakelijk verbonden met een ander concept, dat op zijn beurt weer vasthangt aan een ander beeld, enzoverder.

Het is belangrijk zich bewust te zijn van dit “relationalisme” binnen elk discours, moreel systeem of waardenkader.

Binnen het discours van de liberale democratie in zijn neoliberale vorm bestaat er bijvoorbeeld een conceptuele relatie tussen het idee van “moderne, economisch gezonde natie” enerzijds en vrije handel en een gederegulariseerde economie anderzijds. Ideeën zoals zelfvoorziening,

welvaartsstaat, een betere verdeling van de welvaart, en maatregelen om de nationale industrie te beschermen worden allemaal als verouderd bestempeld. Ze worden niet meer toegestaan. Ze zijn kortweg geen onderdeel van het discours waarin we ons ingeschreven hebben. De Amerikaanse filosofe Judith Butler beschrijft discours dan ook als “de grenzen van wat aanvaarbaar is om gezegd te worden, de grenzen van de mogelijke waarheid”.

Het concept van relationalisme helpt ons te begrijpen wat er nu verkeerd zou kunnen zijn met een discours van vreedzame protesten, egalitarisme, technologisch determinisme, enzovoort. Velen in Egypte zijn akkoord met de waarden die vandaag als westers worden beschouwd, zoals gendergelijkheid, algemeen stemrecht, vrijheid van religie, enzovoort.

Anderzijds weigeren velen het westerse liberale democratische model te erkennen als de enige geldige manier om landen te besturen en een samenleving te doen functioneren. Ze willen het niet kritiekloos en blindelings overnemen zonder ervoor te zorgen dat het beantwoordt aan de ei genheden van de natie, in het bijzonder wanneer het economische luik een ernstige hypotheek legt op de mogelijkheid voor arme families om brood op de plank te brengen.

Een diplomatiek telegram, getiteld Volgende stappen om de democratie in Egypte vooruit te helpen, gelekt en gepubliceerd door Wikileaks, somt op hoe ogenschijnlijk louter humanistische waarden vaak gekoppeld zijn een economischeagenda.

“USAID’s nieuwe programma Rechtvaardigheid voor families zal NGO’s engageren om het publiek meer bewust te maken van de wettelijke rechten van vrouwen en kinderen, alsook de wettelijke diensten die beschikbaar zijn voor deze achtergestelde groepen. Deze inspanningen zullen ook stuiten op reactionaire kritiek in de trant van ‘omkoping’ en ‘bemoeienis’”, leest men in het Amerikaanse diplomatieke telegram.

De zin die onmiddellijk volgt op deze ogenschijnlijk altruïstische bezorgdheid voor Egyptische achtergestelde groepen luidt: “[We moeten] erkennen dat economische hervormingen democratische hervormingen aanvullen: we moeten het Vrijhandelsakkoord nieuw leven inblazen en advies uitbrengen aan het Congres bij de eerstvolgende politieke opening.”

We leven in een periode van volatiliteit die deels het resultaat is van een te grote aanpassing aan het westerse economische en politieke model. Egypte is bedolven onder een torenhoge schuld en is op een systematische manier verarmd door corrupte privatiseringsschema’s en slechte arbeidsomstandigheden.

Als we hier kritiek op uiten, betekent dit niet dat we tegen vrouwen- of minderhedenrechten zijn. Deze kritiek past niet gemakkelijk binnen het politiek-economische discours van de westerse liberale democratie zoals verwoord in het telegram, dat zichzelf het monopolie op dergelijke waarden toemeet.

Het westerse model is immers hét model geworden, omdat politieke en militaire macht geconcentreerd is in het Westen.

Sinds de revolutie heeft Egypte vrije en eerlijke verkiezingen beleefd, maar deze hebben alleen een inefficiënt parlement en inefficiënte opeenvolgende kabinetten opgeleverd. Dit bewijst dat verkiezingen en een ornamentele liberale democratische structuur niet per definitie de levens van tientallen miljoenen arme en gemarginaliseerde Egyptenaren zal verbeteren.

In tegendeel, de kans is zelfs groot dat hun situatie zou verslechteren.

De te grote nadruk op verkiezingen (de hoeksteen van een liberale democratie) gaf macht aan partijen en groepen die over enorme middelen beschikken. Deze stelden hen in staat om campagne te voeren en sociale netwerken te bouwen in zowel rurale gebieden als stedelijke centra.

Dit is duidelijk in het geval bij de Partij van Vrijheid en Rechtvaardigheid van de Moslimbroeders, die wordt gefinancierd door een klasse van zakenmannen-miljardairs en die erin slaagde om 47% van de parlementszetels en het presidentschap te winnen. De rijkste man van Egypte, Naguib Sawiris, slaagde er eveneens in om slechts enkele maanden na de oprichting van een politieke partij 15% van de zitjes in het parlement te behalen, ook dankzij zijn miljarden.

Deze verkozen politici hebben hard opgetreden tegen stakingen, weigerden een minimumloon op te leggen in weerwil van een gerechtelijke beslissing, en maakten geen haast bij het uitoefenen van druk op Europese regeringen om Mubaraks activa terug te geven en een deel van Egyptes zware schuld kwijt te schelden.

In plaats daarvan lenen ze geld van het IMF en andere kredietverstrekkers, wat een verwoestend effect kan hebben op de toekomst van de Egyptische economie. Erger nog, dit is de toekomst van Egyptenaren die worden opgezadeld met een schuld voor geleend geld dat ze zelf niet eens hebben kunnen uitgeven en waarvan ze niet hebben kunnen genieten. Als op schulden gebaseerde groei de toekomst van de welvarende Europese Unie op het spel zet, dan kan men zich inbeelden welk verwoestend effect dit kan hebben op arme ontwikkelingslanden.

Dit alles gebeurt terwijl andere bronnen voor de financiering van publieke uitgaven en de beperking van het begrotingstekort duidelijk voorhanden zijn.

Wist u dat bronnen dicht bij de Wereldbank schatten dat meer dan $132 miljard uit Egypte verdween tijdens het bewind van Mubarak? Wist u dat belastingsachterstallen in Egypte 65 miljard Egyptische pond bedragen? Wist u dat de grootste bedrijven in Egypte slechts 0,5% betalen, zelfs al verdienden ze miljarden nettowinsten ingevolge belastingsvrijstellingen (of beter gunsten) speciaal ontworpen voor bedrijven die dicht bij het voormalige regime stonden?

Wist u dat het Verenigd Koninkrijk weigert de activa van het Mubarak-regime te bevriezen hoewel de EU een sanctielijst had uitgevaardigd die de activa van mensen die tot het voormalige regime hoorden bevriest? Wist u dat Egypte een hoogste belastingsaanslag van 20% heeft, wat betekent dat een familie die 1000 dollar per maand verdient evenveel moet betalen als een zakenman die dat bedrag op een minuut binnenrijft?

Wist u dat als u 420 Egyptische pond (50 Euro) per maand verdient, u op 10% wordt belast terwijl sommige ondernemingen die miljoenen verdienen 0,5% betalen door belastingsmanipulatie? Zelfs de meest kapitalistische economieën hebben een progressieve belasting. De Verenigde Staten bijvoorbeeld, hét bastion van het kapitalisme, hebben een hogere belastingsaanslag van 35%.

Nog steeds zijn er verkozen islamistische parlementsleden die de IMF-narratieven herhalen en spreken over buitenlandse directe investeringen en BNP-groei als een wondermedicijn voor al onze politieke, sociale en economische problemen.

Daarbij vertonen ze een schokkend gebrek aan creativiteit en een onvermogen om buiten de lijnen van de IMF-aanbevelingen te denken. Het is het vermelden waard dat we in de jaren voorafgaand aan de revolutie getuige waren van één van Egyptes grootste economische groeiperiodes en buitenlandse directe investeringen in zijn moderne geschiedenis.

Tegelijkertijd bereikten sociale frustratie en politieke onrust hun hoogste peil uit de recente geschiedenis. Als groei en sociale vrede al niet omgekeerd evenredig zijn, dan kan men ten minste stellen dat ze zeker niet direct evenredig zijn.

Dit is hoe discours gerelateerd is aan macht en media. Het bouwt een raamwerk van wat acceptabel, legitiem en juist is, en is zodanig dwingend dat het mensen niet toelaat om buiten dit kader te denken, spreken en handelen. Zelfs als de vrijheid om buiten dit raamwerk te opereren technisch gezien bestaat, dan mag men zich verwachten aan pasklare beschuldigingen als ‘islamitisch extremisme’, ‘links radicalisme’, ‘antisemitisme’ of ‘afgunst voor de rijken’.

In een wereld die nog steeds lijdt aan een postkoloniale kater, beschrijven deze woorden van Jean-Paul Sartre, hoewel geschreven in 1961, nog steeds adequaat de keuze van de hedendaagse ‘Oriënt’ tussen algehele aanvaarding of verwerping van het westerse modernisme:

“Hun schrijvers en dichters hebben met ongelooflijk geduld geprobeerd ons uit te leggen dat onze waarden slecht strookten met de werkelijkheid waarin zij leven, dat zij deze niet volledig konden verwerpen, maar ook niet helemaal konden aanvaarden. Grof gezegd bedoelden ze: ‘u maakt van ons gedrochten: uw humanisme geeft ons een universele waarde, maar uw racistische praktijken verbijzonderen ons.’”

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The clash within civilisations

 
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This year marks the 20th anniversary of the clash of civilizations theory, but Samuel P Huntington was wrong.

Thursday 28 March 2013

A decade has passed since the blood-drenched invasion of Iraq began, unleashing a wave of destruction not seen in that part of the world since at least the Mongol sacking of Baghdad in the mid-13th century.

Unsurprisingly, the 10th anniversary has prompted immense media attention, in the United States and Europe, as well as in Iraq itself and the broader Middle East. In light of the carnage that has ensued following that fateful decision to invade, a lot of the public debate has focused on whether the war was justified and worthwhile.

The cheerleaders of the war argue that the invasion was just, the subsequent carnage was an unfortunate but collateral consequence of a benign act of goodwill, and that errors were made in the execution of the campaign but the principle was essentially sound.

Critics, like myself, see the wholesale destruction of Iraq and the chaos besetting it – which was chillingly illustrated by the deadly car bombings which rocked Baghdad on the 10th anniversary – as clear proof that the US-led intervention was not only unjustified but flawed.

In order to understand why, we need to rewind another 10 years, back to another important anniversary which has largely fallen under the media’s radar. Through some fluke of history, the theory which largely justified the Iraq war and provided it with its ideological underpinning was formulated exactly a decade earlier.

In an incredibly influential essay published 20 years ago in Foreign Affairs, the late Samuel P Huntington first outlined his clash of civilisations theory, which he later elaborated on and fleshed out in a book published in 1996.

Huntington argued that “the fundamental source of conflict” in the post-Cold War era would be not ideological or economic but “cultural”. “The clash of civilisations will dominate global politics. The fault lines between civilisations will be the battle lines of the future,” the Harvard professor argued.

Huntington divided the world into some half a dozen major civilisational groups which, he posited, would clash at two levels: local “fault line conflicts” where civilisations overlap and “core state conflicts” between the major states of different civilisations.

On the 20th anniversary of this controversial theory and given how influential it has been and remains, it is useful to analyse whether or not Huntington was right. Has a clash of civilisations emerged, as Huntington predicted, over the past two decades?

Supporters of Huntington’s hypothesis answer with an unequivocal “yes”. They point to the inhumane atrocities committed in the United States by Islamic extremists on 11 September 2001, the subsequent clash with al-Qaeda, the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, as well as the rise of Islamist parties during the “Arab Spring” as confirmation that a clash is underway.

Critics, like the scholar Noam Chomsky, have maintained that the clash of civilisations is simply the symptom of an empire, i.e. Pax Americana, in search of another justification for its imperial aspirations after the Cold War paradigm fell apart with the collapse of the Soviet bloc.

The late Edward Said, the renowned author of Orientalism, saw in Huntington’s theory an extension of the pseudo-scientific Orientalist scholarship which had been used for at least a couple of centuries to justify European and Western hegemony. In an essay entitled The Clash of Ignorances¸ published shortly after 9/11, Said argued that Huntington ignored “the internal dynamics and plurality of every civilisation” and “the fact that the major contest in most modern cultures concerns the definition or interpretation of each culture”.

Personally, I find that, though the idea, in one form or another, of a clash of civilisations is as old as the hills – examples include the historical notions of jihads and crusades, not to mention the idea of “civilisation” versus “barbarity” espoused by most dominant powers throughout the centuries – this does not make it any more valid or true.

Far more often than not, what has been dressed up as a clash of values is really just a clash of interests parading as something less selfish than it actually is. Although culture and ideology can, on rare occasions, lead to conflict, for the most part, societies enter into conflicts due to clashes of interests.

And in such a context, proximity is traditionally a far greater cause of friction than culture. That is why conflicts within self-identified cultural or civilisational groups are often greater than those between them. Over the centuries, Christians and Muslims have gone to war and killed more of their coreligionists than each other, as the carnage of two world wars in Europe shows all too clearly.

That would explain, for instance, why the United States decided to invade Saddam Hussein’s secular Iraq, even though it was a sworn enemy of al-Qaeda and jihadist Islam, yet is bosom buddies with Saudi Arabia, the hotbed of reactionary Wahhabism, which it exports around the region and the world, and the home of most of the hijackers who took part in the 11 September attacks.

And alliances which cut across supposed civilisational lines have an ancient pedigree. Examples include the Arabs allying themselves with the British and the French against the Turks, or the Ottomans fighting alongside the Germans in World War I against the British, French and Russians. In fact, throughout its centuries as a major power, the Ottoman Empire’s alliances shifted between various Christian European states, including France, Poland, as well as the Protestant Reformation against the Catholic House of Habsburg.

Moreover, Huntington’s hypothesis is further undermined by what I like to call the “mash of civilisations”. Each so-called civilisation is actually a volatile, constantly changing hybrid of ideas and cultural influences.

In fact, if we must group civilisations together, then I would place the West and Islam in the same group because they both share common roots in the Abrahamic tradition, not to mention the Greek and Hellenistic, Mesopotamian and Egyptian influences, as well as the modern importance of the Enlightenment, not just for Western reform movements but also for secularising and modernising movements in the Middle East. I would go so far as to say that Europe and the Middle East, especially the Mediterranean countries, have more in common with each other than they do with their co-religionists in Africa and further east in Asia.

So, if there has not been a clash of civilisations, what has emerged since the end of the Cold War?

At one level, there are the brewing clashes of interests between the great powers, as America tries to hold on to its waning global reach, Russia tries to claw back the influence it lost following the implosion of the Soviet Union and China, after years of quiet growth in the background, begins to flex its muscles on the foreign stage, both to advance its emerging “strategic interests” and for prestige.

On another level, cultures have clashed, but not between civilisations, as Huntington believed they would, but within them. This clash within civilisations is currently playing itself out most visibly in the Middle East.

In addition to the sectarian monster unleashed by the anarchy in Iraq, the revolutionary wave that has swept through the region has brought to the fore, and into sharp relief, the major fault lines and clashes within each society and, to a lesser extent, between them. There are the conflicts between the secular and religious, between majorities and minorities, between women and men, between the young and old, between modernists and traditionalists, between the haves and have-nots, and so on.

Although less pronounced, at least for the time being, these same internal tensions are being witnessed in the West, as reflected in the rising influence of Christian fundamentalism in the United States and the extreme right in Europe, as well as the large-scale social protests, from years of street battles in Greece to the Occupy Wall Street movement of the “99%”.

In Europe, particularly, class conflict is intensifying on the back of the economic crisis triggered by neo-liberal excess, as the poor and middle-classes are forced, through bailouts and austerity, to finance what has effectively become a welfare state for the rich. This is putting in jeopardy not only the much-vaunted European social model but also the EU enterprise itself.

If the European Union is not reinvented along more equitable lines and emerges out of this crisis, instead, much weakened, then it will likely leave a petty-nationalistic sized hole in the European arena which could eventually cause the conflicts currently taking place within individual countries to spill across borders.

In the second decade of the 21st century, a major challenge facing us all is not the clash of civilisations but the clash within civilisations. This internal cultural struggle is largely caused by the growing socio-economic inequalities that have emerged in just about every country in the world.

If these inequities are not addressed effectively, at both the local and global levels, then intolerance will grow and conflicts will continue to consume individual societies, with the danger that they will spill over into other countries, potentially spiraling out of control.

___

Follow Khaled Diab on Twitter.

This article first appeared in The Huffington Post on 21 March 2013.

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كيف يمكن لنجاح الثورة المصرية أن يُفشِلها؟

 
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بقلم أسامة دياب

استطاعت الثورة المصرية من خلال قوة الصورة إلغاء الصور النمطية التي كانت قد ترسخت في الأذهان وتكونت عنا، و لكن هناك ثمن لا بد أن يدفع في المقابل.

الاثنين ٢٥ مارس ٢٠١٣.

Dutch version

Photo: © Zaza Bertrand

Photo: © Zaza Bertrand

أدى عاملان إلى زيادة العنصر الأدائي في الثورة المصرية: أولهما الوعي الكامل بقوة الصور التي يتم إرسالها إلى العالم وإدراك لمدى تأثيرها على تطور الأحداث. كان من المؤكد أن تلك الثورة ستترك ورائها ميراث غني، لهذا قامت مئات الألاف من كاميرات الموبايل ومئات من كاميرات وكالات الأنباء بتصوير وتسجيل كل هتاف ورفرفة علم وإصابة وحالة وفاة ودمعة وضحكة وكل طلق ناري وكل صلاة، فإذا قمت بالبحث باللغة الإنجليزية عن  (الثورة المصرية) على محرك جوجل فستسفر نتائج البحث عن حوالي 9 ملايين صورة، ناهيك عن البحث باللغات الأخرى

العامل الآخر هو الاحتياج للدعم أو الرغبة في أن يتعاطف العالم مع الصراع الدائر وأن يشعر به ويدركه ويعترف بوجوده

اضطرت الثورة لضمان نجاحها ولكسب التعاطف تبني نماذج ومُثُل تروج لها وسائل الإعلام الغربية، لهذا لم يخلو ميدان التحرير من لافتات مكتوبة باللغة الإنجليزية صورتها الكاميرات وقامت بنشرها. إحدى أشهر اللافتات بميدان التحرير هي تلك التي تم تعليقها بوسط الميدان وحملت شعار الثورة الأشهر “الشعب يريد إسقاط النظام” باللغتين العربية و الإنجليزية

كما حمل أحد الشباب لافتة كتب عليها “فيسبوك على كل ظالم” باللغتين العربية والإنجليزية للتأكيد على أن الطبقة الوسطى المتعلمة هي من تقود هذه الثورة. حرص المتظاهرون على التحدث إلى وسائل الإعلام الأجنبية بالإنجليزية – بدرجات مختلفة من الإجادة – لكسب تعاطف المجتمع الدولي

 هكذا صاح متظاهر سلفي بأعلى صوته مستخدماً لغة إنجليزية أمريكية ممتازة: “لن نصمت، إن كنا مسلمين أو مسيحيين أو ملحدين”. أدى خطاب وسائل الإعلام الغربية عن من يشبهون هذا الشاب إلى تصنيفه تلقائياً ضمن نوعية الناس الذين قد لا يرتاح المرء تماماً للجلوس بجوارهم في الطائرة، لكنه استطاع بحديثه مثلهم و بمشاركته لنفس القيم الإنسانية التي يؤمنون بها رسم صورة مُحببة للثورة المصرية

“صاح رجل عجوز آخر مستخدماً إنجليزية ركيكة جداً وهو يتجه إلى إحدى أخطر المظاهرات التي أقيمت في الثامن والعشرين من يناير 2011 “هذا وضع سيء، لي ولحكومتي” . “لا أملك الطعام. لا أملك أي شيء. أنا و أطفالي. سأموت اليوم!” كيف لا يتعاطف المرء مع هذا العجوز الأعزل الذي لا يحمل أي أيديولوجيات ولا يطمح سوى لإطعام نفسه وأطفاله

هذا هو الشكل الذي تتخذه الثورة في عصر عولمة وسائل الإعلام، لهذا احتاجت الثورة المصرية إلى إقناع العالم أجمع بوسائل إعلامه وسياسييه ومجتمعه المدني ومواطنيه، واحتاجت إلى القيام بحملات علاقات عامة وتسويق تلقائية وتعلم كيفية التعامل مع ميدان أثقله التواجد الإعلامي الكثيف

كانت إحدى أهم و أقوى صور الثورة عندما صنع الأقباط جدار بشري أحاط بالمسلمين وحماهم أثناء صلاتهم، كما تمكنت صور لطبيبات يعالجن إصابات المتظاهرين ومقاطع فيديو لأغاني مبهجة وهتافات طريفة من أسر قلوب وعقول الملايين حول العالم

كيف لا يساند أي سياسي ثورة كتلك، قامت لتطالب بالمساواة في الحقوق؟ كيف لأي نظام يدعو إلى الحرية والديمقراطية أن ينحاز لديكتاتور ضد متظاهرين لديهم تلك المطالب المشروعة؟

حرص المساندون للثورة على نشر تلك الصور القوية، وهي صور لا تتفق مع أي من الصور النمطية التي خلقتها وسائل الإعلام الدولية في خطابها من بعد الحرب الباردة والتي قامت من خلاله باستبدال دول الإتحاد السوفيتي السابق كغريم للغرب بالبلاد ذات الاغلبية المسلمة. هذا هو بالتحديد نوع الرفض لأي هوية سياسية الذي كان ضروري لرحيل مبارك، كان الاتفاق غير المعلن هو إحراج قادة العالم وإجبارهم على مساندة الثورة عن طريق المبالغة في عدم اعتناق أي أيديولوجية

Photo: ©Harry Gruyaert

Photo: ©Harry Gruyaert

عند النظر إلى تسلسل ردود أفعال الإدارة الأمريكية على مدار ال18 يوم، نتيقن أن تلك الخطة الدعائية الشعبية والعفوية نجحت إلى حد كبير. في أول أيام الثورة، رفض نائب رئيس الولايات المتحدة “جو بيدين” وصف مبارك بالدكتاتور رغم إدانة العديد من المنظمات الدولية – ومن ضمنها وزارة الخارجية الأمريكية نفسها – للنظام بمصر لسجله المتواضع فيما يخص حقوق الإنسان، بل أن الرئيس أوباما نفسه كان قد سبق ووصف الدكتاتور المصري الفاسد ب”الصديق” و بأنه “قوة استقرار للمنطقة”

 بدأت وزيرة الخارجية الأمريكية “هيلاري كلينتون” بعد بضعة أيام في الحديث عن “الإصلاح” (و ليس “التغيير”) عند تعليقها على ما يجب حدوثه في مصر خلال ما أصبح يعرف لاحقاً بالثورة

غيرت إدارة أوباما من نبرتها تماماً قرب نهاية ال18 يوم،. ولم يعد مبارك “صديق” أو “قوة استقرار” ولم يعد الحديث عن “الإصلاح” بل عن التنحي الفوري. صرح الرئيس أوباما بأن “عملية إنتقال السلطة يجب أن تبدأ الآن” قبل سقوط الدكتاتور المصري ببضعة أيام. حدث هذا، جزئياً على الأقل، بفضل قوة الصورة. كان أبسط تلميح لوجود أي هوية سياسية في ميدان التحرير كفيل بالإبقاء على مبارك في الحكم بدعم أمريكي

كانت أبسط الطرق لتخريب هذا المهرجان الثوري هي حرق العلم الإسرائيلي أو الأمريكي وترك باقي المهمة ل”فوكس نيوز”. يتعجب المرء: كيف لم يفكر مبارك في هذا؟

لم تبلغ الثورة ذروة شعبيتها إلا بعد أن أوصل المتظاهرين رسالتهم بوضوح: نحن لا نطالب سوى بنفس الحقوق التي تتمتعون بها في الغرب. لسنا إسلاميين راديكاليين، ولسنا معاديين للسامية، ولسنا ماركسيين مسلحين. نحن مثلكم: نستخدم الفيسبوك ونجيد تحدث الإنجليزية كما أننا نختلف عن الصور النمطية التي كونتها لديكم وسائل الإعلام عنا

كان هذا مثال كلاسيكي على الذكاء الجماعي، وأنا لا أشك ولو للحظة في أن غالبية المتظاهرين كانوا يؤمنون فعلاً بتلك القيم، ولكن القدرة على تسويق الثورة والترويج لها دون أي خطة إعلامية أو إعلانية أو خطة علاقات عامة هي عمل جماعي وعفوي عبقري ينبع من موهبة فذة

من الصعب الاعتراض على الالتزام بهذا الخطاب اللائق، ولكن الخطاب السياسي عبارة عن مجموعة من الرموز، ومهما كانت مكوناته عامة وشاملة وسامية فهي ليست كيانات منفصلة تعمل في الفراغ بل هي متعلقة برموز ومفاهيم أخرى تأتي كلها عادةً في حزمة واحدة

أين إذاً العيب في ما حدث؟

ما هو إذاً الخطاب بالضبط؟ و ما مشكلة محاولة الالتزام به طالما اتفقنا مع القيم التي يروج لها؟ يصف الفيلسوف الفرنسي “ميشيل فوكو” الخطاب قائلاً: “هو مجموعة من التسلسلات والرموز”، فهو يرى أن الخطاب يحدد إطار ما يمكن أن تقوله ويكون مقبولا من قبل المؤسسات ذات السلطة والنفوذ. أما الفيلسوفة الأمريكية “جوديث باتلر” فتصف الخطاب ب “حدود الحديث المقبول، حدود الحقيقة الممكنة”

 وتجيب النظرية العلائقية على السؤال المشروع حول ما يمكن أن يعيب المظاهرات السلمية ومبدأ المساواة ونظرية الحتمية التكنولوجية، إلخ

أي خطاب هو عبارة عن نظام مُكَوَن من بعض القيم المترابطة ومن المهم أن ندرك المفاهيم التي تتعلق بعضها ببعض في كل خطاب أو نظام أخلاقي أو مجموعة قيم، حيث توجد علاقات مفاهيمية بين الرموز والأفكار والمواضيع والتصريحات يشكلون معاً بنيانا من المعرفة

فعلى سبيل المثال، العلاقة المفهومية التي تربط بين الدولة الحديثة ذات الإقتصاد القوي وبين التجارة الحرة المتحررة من القيود هي علاقة مُضمنة في الخطاب الديمقراطي الليبرالي في هيئته النيوليبرالية، وهو خطاب تصبح فيه أفكار مثل الاكتفاء الذاتي أو دولة الرفاه أو تقسيم أفضل للثروة أو إجراءات حماية الصناعات الوطنية جميعها أفكار قديمة وتشكل عائقا للنمو الاقتصادي وخلق الثروة، فهي باختصار لا تشكل جزء من الخطاب الذي التزمنا به

يتفق الكثيرون مع القيم التي تعتبر في يومنا هذا قيم غربية مثل المساواة بين الجنسين، وحق الاقتراع للجميع بدون تفرقة ليشمل جميع المواطنين البالغين، وحرية العقيدة، إلخ. ولكن يرفض أيضاَ الكثيرون تبني النموذج الغربي الليبرالي الديمقراطي دون تبصر أو تفكير باعتباره الطريقة الوحيدة التي تصلح لإدارة البلاد، وباعتباره النموذج الاجتماعي والاقتصادي الأصلح دون التأكد من ملائمته لخصوصيات البلد خاصة وأن الجانب الاقتصادي منه يشكل تهديداً قوياً لقدرة العائلات الفقيرة في الحصول على الطعام وأساسيات الحياة

توضح برقية دبلوماسية بعنوان “الخطوات التالية لتحقيق التقدم الديمقراطي في مصر” سربتها ونشرتها “ويكيليكس” أن ما قد يبدو كقيم إنسانية خالصة غالباً ما يرتبط بأجندة اقتصادية وسياسية. تقول البرقية الدبلوماسية الأمريكية: “سيدفع برنامج العدالة الأسرية التابع للوكالة الأمريكية للتنمية الدولية المنظمات غير الحكومية إلى زيادة الوعي العام حول الحقوق القانونية للمرأة و الطفل بالإضافة إلى الخدمات القانونية المتاحة لتلك الفئات المتضررة. ستقابل هذه المجهودات بانتقادات رجعية تتهمها بال”رشوة” و بال”تدخل في الشؤون الداخلية”

 يبدو ما سبق انه اهتمام حقيقي وغير أناني بالفئات المتضررة والمُهَمَشة في مصر، و لكن يليه تلك الجملة: “[علينا أن] نقر بأن الإصلاحات الاقتصادية مُكملة للإصلاح الديمقراطي: علينا أن نحيي اتفاقية التجارة الحرة ونُعلم الكونجرس بها في أقرب فرصة ممكنة.” مصر دولة تقيدها الديون وتم إقفارها بشكل ممنهج عن طريق خطط الخصخصة واستغلال العمالة. انتقادنا لهذا لا يعني أننا ضد حقوق المرأة أو الأقليات، و لكنه انتقاد لا يتناسب مع خطاب الديمقراطية الليبرالية الغربية الموجود بالبرقية والذي يسمح لنفسه باحتكار تلك القيم

نعيش في مرحلة من القضايا المُعلقة نتجت جزئياً من الالتزام الزائد بالنموذج الاقتصادي والسياسي الغربي. القوة السياسية والعسكرية تتركز في الغرب، لهذا أصبحت القيم الغربية خصوصا في الجانب الاقتصادي بديهية لا يمكن التشكيك فيها. يشرح “فوكو” قائلاً: “القوة تنتج المعرفة … القوة والمعرفة تؤديان أحدهما للأخرى … لا توجد علاقة قوة دون التكوين المترابط لحقل معرفي … ولا توجد معرفة لا تستلزم وجود وتكوين علاقات قوة”. شهدت مصر منذ الثورة انتخابات حرة ونزيهة ولكنها لم تسفر سوى عن برلمان غير كفء ثم عن حكومات ووزارات غير كفء وهو ما يثبت أن حتى ولو كانت عملية عد الأصوات نزيهة، وحتى ولو كان النظام مُزين ببنية ليبرالية ديمقراطية، فهذا كله لن يحسن من حياة ملايين الفقراء والمهمشين من المصريين، بل في الغالب سيزيدوها سوءا وفقرا

أعطى الاهتمام الزائد بالانتخابات (وهي حجر زاوية الديمقراطية الليبرالية) قوة وسلطة لمجموعات تمتلك موارد ضخمة مكنتها من تنظيم حملات سياسية ومن تأسيس شبكات اجتماعية في المناطق الريفية والمدن. ثروتهم هي التي أدت إلى اتصالهم المباشر بالمجموعات المعنية. يظهر هذا جلياً مع حزب الحرية و العدالة التابع للإخوان المسلمين والذي تموله طبقة من رجال الأعمال فاحشي الثراء، ونجح الحزب في الحصول على 47% من البرلمان بالإضافة إلى كرسي الرئاسة. كما نجح أغنى أغنياء مصر نجيب ساويرس في الحصول بفضل ملايينه على 15% من البرلمان و ذلك بعد بضعة أشهر من تأسيس حزبه السياسي

قام هؤلاء السياسيين المُنتَخًبين بقمع الإضرابات العمالية، ورفضوا فرض حد أدنى للدخل رغم وجود حكم محكمة بذلك، وبدلاً من الضغط على الحكومات الأوروبية لاسترجاع الأموال التي سرقها مبارك وإسقاط بعض من ديون مصر اتجهوا للاقتراض من صندوق النقد الدولي ومُقرِضين آخرين وهو ما قد يدمر الاقتصاد المصري مُستقبلاً، بل ومستقبل المصريين الذين ستغرقهم ديون لم ينفقوها ولم يستفيدوا منها، فإذا كان النمو الاقتصادي المعتمد على القروض يشكل خطراً على بلاد الإتحاد الأوروبي الغنية، علينا أن نتخيل مدى الدمار الذي قد يسببه للبلدان الفقيرة النامية

يحدث كل هذا حين تتوفر بوضوح مصادر أخرى لتمويل الإنفاق الحكومي و التقليل من عجز الموازنة

 هل تعلم أن مصادر قريبة للبنك الدولي قدرت الأموال التي اختفت من مصر في عهد مبارك بأكثر من 132 مليار دولار؟ و هل تعلم أن الضرائب المتأخرة في مصر تُقدر ب65 مليار جنيه مصري؟ و هل تعلم أن بعض أكبر الشركات في مصر تدفع ضرائب قليلة جداً تصل إلى 0.5 % رغم أن أرباحها تقدر بالمليارات نتيجة لإعفاءات ضريبية (أو بالأحرى جمائل) صممت خصيصاً لرجال الأعمال القريبين من النظام السابق؟

 هل تعلم أن المملكة المتحدة ترفض تجميد حسابات نظام مبارك على الرغم من إصدار الإتحاد الأوروبي لقائمة بالحسابات التي تخص النظام السابق و المطلوب تجميدها؟

 هل تعلم أن أعلى شريحة ضريبية في مصر هي 20 %، مما يعني أن العائلة التي تربح ألف دولار شهرياً ورجل الأعمال الذي يربح نفس هذا المبلغ في الدقيقة الواحدة يدفعون نفس الضريبة؟ و هل تعلم أن الفرد الذي يربح 420 جنيه مصري (60 يورو) شهرياً يدفع 10 % من دخله للضرائب بينما تدفع بعض الشركات التي تربح الميارات 0.5 % عن طريق التلاعب الضريبي؟ حتى أكثر الاقتصادات رأسمالية تستخدم نظام تصاعدي للضرائب، فعلى سبيل المثال، في الولايات المتحدة، حصن الرأسمالية، أعلى شريحة ضريبية هي 35 %. لازلنا نرى نوابا إسلاميين مُنتًخًبين يرددون نفس روايات صندوق النقد الدولي ويتحدثون عن الاستثمار الأجنبي المباشر ونمو الناتج المحلي الإجمالي كما لو كانا الحل الشامل لجميع مشاكلنا السياسية والاجتماعية و الاقتصادية مفتقرين إلى أي قدرة إبتكارية أو أي قدرة على التفكير خارج إطار توصيات صندوق النقد الدولي

من الجدير بالذكر أن مصر شهدت في السنوات التي السابقة على أكبر نمو اقتصادي و أكبر تدفق للاستثمار الأجنبي في تاريخها المعاصر، تزامنا مع أعلى مستوى من الإحباط الاجتماعي والاضطراب السياسي تشهده في تاريخها الحديث. فالنمو الاقتصادي والسلام الاجتماعي إن لم يكونا متناسبان عكسياً هم، على الأقل ودون شك، ليسا متناسبان طردياً

 هذه هي العلاقة التي تربط الخطاب بالقوة ووسائل الإعلام، فهو يبني إطار لتحديد كل ما هو مقبول وشرعي وصحيح ويمنع الناس من العمل خارجه. و حتى لو أتيحت عملياً حرية العمل خارج هذا الإطار فسوف يقابل هذا باتهامات جاهزة من نوعية “التطرف الإسلامي” أو “اليسارية الراديكالية” أو “معاداة السامية” أو “حسد الأغنياء”. تنطبق هذه الكلمات ل”جان بول سارتر”، على الرغم من إنها تعود إلى عام 1961، على الاختيار الذي تواجهه بلاد الشرق في يومنا هذا بين القبول أو الرفض الكامل لحداثة الغرب في عالم لا يزال يعاني من أثار الاستعمار والعقلانية الغربية الحديثة: “حاول كُتابهم و شُعرائهم، بصبر كبير، أن يشرحوا لنا أن قيمنا لا تنطبق مع الحقائق التي يعيشونها يومياً، و أنهم لا يستطيعون رفضها كُلياً ولكنهم لا يستطيعون أيضاً هضمها. كانوا يقولون باختصار: أنتم تصنعون منا مسوخ، فلسفتكم الإنسانية تدعي أننا وباقي العالم واحد ولكن أساليبكم العنصرية تُفرقنا.”

This essay first appeared in Cairopolis, a book and photography exhibition about the Egyptian revolution.

 

الاثنين ٢٥ مارس ٢٠١٣

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Tahrir Square: For the sake of the forsaken

 
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By Osama Diab

For ordinary Egyptians, Tahrir is now a terrifying black hole, but for its marginalised occupiers, it is a liberator from political and social tyranny.

Wednesday 27 February 2013

Tahrir has become a black hole for ordinary Egyptians but a space of liberty for the marginalised. photo: ©Khaled Diab

Tahrir has become a black hole for ordinary Egyptians but a space of liberty for the marginalised. photo: ©Khaled Diab

“Do you like what’s happening in Tahrir?” taxi drivers ask me everyday on my way back from work, which is near the world-famous square. Fed up with this discussion and my inability to make any “acceptable” argument prompted me to consider moving somewhere that was within walking distance from my office.

For someone who has supported the revolution from the very beginning and throughout its different stages, and against the various counterrevolutionary forces – the remnants of the Mubarak regime, the military and the Muslim Brotherhood – this period has been the most difficult  when it comes to trying to sell and promote the revolution.

Any frequent visitor to Tahrir will notice a change in its demographic composition. The face of this highly symbolic square and its surrounding area has changed beyond recognition over the past two years. Before the revolution erupted, Tahrir was a symbol of state might and prestige, with high-ranking police officers aggressively managing the traffic flow of cars and pedestrians through and around the capital’s most strategic spot.

Within a kilometre of Tahrir in every direction is the highest concentration of state institutions in the country. The monolithic symbol of state bureaucracy, the Mugama’a, the parliament with its two houses, a large number of ministries (including the monstrous Ministry of Interior) are all located on the different ends of the Tahrir square area. The neighbourhood is also home to some of Egypt’s oldest and most luxurious five-star hotels overlooking the Nile, not to mention the famous Egyptian museum, the Arab league building and the former ruling National Democratic Party’s headquarters.

How did this area of potent political power and tight state control descend into a state of lawlessness is beyond most people’s comprehension. Many Egyptians now choose to avoid the area altogether while others are curious about who occupies and controls it. The motivation behind the recent clashes with the police during the revolution’s second anniversary were unclear even to the most competent of political analysts and to opposition forces. It is a defining characteristic of a revolution for events to move faster than the ability of most people to grasp them.

Many of those who occupy and control Egypt’s most institution-laden area are the country’s forsaken: street vendors, homeless teenagers and street children. They have replaced the generals, the police informants and government politicians who used to be in control just two years ago.

Tahrir moved from being the establishment’s headquarters to an area that is becoming rife with anti-establishment behaviour. It attracts the homeless, including children, rebel female activists, homosexuals, street vendors, substance abusers, etc. The groups who were the most marginalised for different reasons have found a refuge in an area completely liberated from oppressive state and societal authority. The occupation of Egypt most strategic square kilometre is a reminder of a triumph of the oppressed over the oppressor. For the outsider, Tahrir might have turned into a frightening, dark, and dirty black hole but for its occupiers it’s a breeze of freedom manifested in the absence of unjust authority.

The changing demographic make-up of Tahrir Square has turned it into a different world. No longer does it relate to the outer world where the state is gradually reemerging and playing its typical role of trying to control and dominate the public sphere. While the revolution outside of Tahrir is mostly defined as its first 18 days, in Tahrir, it has no clear start or end. It’s an ongoing feud with the authorities, society and the state. It is the fight of the marginalised to claim, even to grab, their share of the public sphere.

The revolution is no longer a well-packaged commodity produced by the so-called “Facebook generation”. It’s no longer a unified movement of educated and politically aware young voices who are able to organise, brand, rebrand and promote the revolution as a “civilised”, acceptable and legitimate movement in a near-Utopian setting.

Some people’s dislike of the current Tahrir occupation, and their disquiet towards its occupants, is partly classist and partly practical, because of the inconvenience to the flow of traffic they cause for commuters on their way to work. However, for the marginalised of Tahrir, this negativity is a proof of life, an affirmation of the viability and effectiveness of their actions. Unlike the Facebook revolutionaries, Tahrir’s occupiers have no desire to please society or cater to its norms. Their struggle, in a way, is against the social order, and so upsetting polite society is something for them to aspire to.

The dominant and privileged classes of society have acknowledged these groups’ wretched existence for the first time. Finally,  they are beginning to ask, Who are these people?. We denounce and disapprove of violence but did we listen to them when they were peaceful? Were they given any other option to be heard other than through the sound of their stones? Is this in a way not our violence echoed and thrown back at us?

For the “Facebook generation”, the revolution and the occupation of Tahrir was a means to an end that involved a vision for a freer society. An integral part of their strategy was to engage the wider community and convince it of the revolution and cater to its socially acceptable norms, which is why the social impact of the 18-day revolution was rather limited, despite its remarkable political impact.

On the other hand, for the marginalised of today’s Tahrir, who operate outside the societal framework, the revolution is the end, not a means. They for the most part lack the skills and the social acceptability to engage with and persuade the larger community of the rightness of their struggle. For that reason, they don’t aim for a better world, but just a tiny square of the world where they exercise a degree of control and enjoy a sense of ownership, even if it’s over a space that is frightening, dark and dirty to others.

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Reading between the lines of the Middle Eastern media

 
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By Khaled Diab

Despite its bottom ranking in the Press Freedom Index, the Middle Eastern media is freer than it appears at first sight.

Saturday 16 February 2013

Despite all the sacrifices made by citizens and journalists across the Middle East and North Africa, the region has come in bottom of the global media freedom league, according to the recently released 2013 Press Freedom Index (PFI).  

Though not entirely surprising, this unenviable distinction is a dispiriting reality check for how far the region still has to go before it delivers the freedoms coveted and demanded by its citizens – at least, that is how the current situation as reflected by the PFI league table seems at first sight. 

The bottom 10 contains two Middle Eastern countries: Syria (placed in 176th position) and Iran (174th). Surpassed only by the truly terrible trio of Eritrea, North Korea and Turkmenistan, Syria, which for decades has not been a bastion of media freedom, has seen its track record worsen significantly ever since it erupted into a bloody civil war in which journalists, like civilians, have been targeted, mainly by the government, but also by opposition forces. 

In all, four journalists were killed in Syria in 2012, and a further 41 media professionals and netizens were imprisoned. This made Syria the most dangerous country in the world to be a journalist, according to Reporters sans frontiers (RSF), the organisation behind the index.  

As an indication of the sorry state of the region, the highest scoring MENA country only managed 77th place. Surprisingly for many, this number one spot goes not to Israel, the self-styled only democracy in the Middle East, nor to Lebanon, long regarded as the capital of the freest Arab press and its most vibrant publishing sector, but to the small emirate of Kuwait. 

In addition, despite having a population of just 2.8 million, Kuwait is home to a broad range of quality dailies and weeklies of varying political stripes and, according to RSF, the most liberal press legislation in the region.  

While Kuwait seems to be for the large part practising and not preaching when it comes to its media, the same cannot be said for nearby Qatar, which occupies the 110th position in the PFI ranking. While al-Jazeera, which often exhibits greater editorial freedom than certain segments of the Western media, has revolutionised the Arab world’s staid media, providing those who previously had no access to a free media an open window on the world, and has been boldly and enthusiastically at the frontline of the revolutionary wave sweeping the region, the domestic media in Qatar remains tame and subservient to the ruling elite. 

This has resulted in Qatar suffering from a form of cognitive dissonance, with the government at once defending al-Jazeera’s editorial freedom, even occasionally to the detriment of relations with Arab and Western allies, yet not tolerating dissent from its domestic media. Likewise, this daring channel which walks the walk abroad dares not talk the talk at home, exhibiting “restraint, even self-censorship”, in the words of RSF. Or as one journalist friend put it, “al-Jazeera’s motto is to speak truth to power, except the one that pays the bills”.

Defenders of al-Jazeera sometimes claim that the news channel is not practising self-censorship when it comes to domestic Qatari affairs but rather that the tiny land of 1.7 million is a backwater where little of interest to regional and global viewers ever happens. While there is some merit to this view, there are plenty of Qatar-related issues that would interest a broader audience, such as its restrictive media laws, its sluggish progress towards democratisation, not to mention the controversial presence of a US airbase there.

The ultimate test of al-Jazeera’s vaunted independence would be how it would report on events if Qatar caught the revolutionary bug. Possible indications of how this might play out are provided by neighbouring Bahrain, whose uprising, Bahraini opposition figures complain, has received relatively little coverage.

In fact, since the Arab Spring broke out, a wave of allegations, including from discontented ex-reporters with the network, has emerged that al-Jazeera’s once enviable independent stance has become increasingly subservient to backroom manipulation from the palace, including, in an echo of the traditional practices of state-owned Arab channels, the re-editing of a report on a UN debate on Syria to lead with the comments of Sheikh Hamad bin Khalifa al-Thani – you know, the hereditary leader who deposed his father to gain power over that backwater which doesn’t normally merit media coverage.

Despite its poor showing, Qatar is still two places ahead of Israel (112th place). This low ranking is bound to bewilder, bemuse and even anger many Israelis. But I believe it is both justified and unjustified.  

It is justified because of military censorship and the severe restrictions Israel imposes on Israeli, Palestinian and foreign journalists working in the occupied Palestinian territories. In addition, the Israeli military bombed two buildings housing media in Gaza during last November’s Gaza conflict.  

Moreover, not only are Israeli journalists not allowed to operate there, Palestinian journalists are often harassed. It sometimes seems that Palestinian journalists are under siege from all directions, faced as they are with the double whammy of Israeli and domestic repression, especially in Gaza. Fortunately, as Fatah and Hamas try to mend fences, the situation is improving slowly, and Palestine has risen eight places to the 146th spot.

Israel’s handling of the media in the West Bank and Gaza caused its ranking to plummet 20 positions because RSF decided to combine the “Israel extraterritorial” score with its domestic one. Some will cry foul at this apparent sleight of hand, but Israel, as an occupying power, has responsibilities to guarantee fundamental rights in the Palestinian territories. Moreover, if Israel can consider making denial of the occupation an official policy, then why can’t RSF hold it accountable?

Even without including the extraterritorial element, Israel would still rank an uninspiring 92, way, way, way below its declared obligation of being a “light unto the nations”, as David Ben-Gurion claimed.

That said, RSF readily acknowledges that Israeli journalists “enjoy real freedom of expression”. And from my experience working with Haaretz and other Israeli media and the time I spent practising my profession in Jerusalem, I would broadly agree. Personally, I have never had my work censored and I have been given space to express some ideas very critical of Israel.

Even dissidents acknowledge Israel’s pluralistic tradition, at least towards its Jewish citizens, though they express fears about the spate of new anti-freedom laws that have been passed recently, such as the anti-boycott law currently before the Supreme Court, and the ‘Nakba Law’, which outlaws  the commemoration of what Palestinians and Arabs call the ‘Catastrophe’ of 1948 in public institutions. 

“When I studied [the Nakba], I didn’t face the law, I didn’t face the secret service, I faced the community,” the dissident Israeli academic Ilan Pappé told me in an interview some months ago. Though he acknowledges that the Israeli system once tolerated a broad margin of dissent, this, he fears, is changing. “[Israel] is becoming a mukhabarat state. I mean Israel is becoming a state of the old Middle East, of the old Arab World.” 

A surprising number of Israelis I know share this idea of regional convergence. And there are plenty of signs that the Arab world is catching up with Israel – and in a way that this index cannot capture.

Although Kuwait scores the highest in the PFI, I believe the greatest promise for a free media lies not in the Gulf but in the revolutionary states, especially Egypt (158th place) and Tunisia (138th).

This is because certain intangibles cannot be captured in the PFI’s subjective scoring system, based as it is on the assessments of various local and International observers, which means that countries with a more critical culture could score more poorly than countries which are less critical. It also does not take into account qualitative criteria, such as the actual content, as well as the plurality, accuracy and scope of the reporting and commentary in the media, and its daring.

This translates into the fact that although no Kuwaiti journalists were arrested last year, the profession as a whole tends to self-censor to stay within the carefully delineated “red lines”, while attempts by Mubarak, the army and the Muslim Brotherhood to impose restrictions in Egypt through intimidations and periodic crackdowns, have been met with defiance and open rebellion by much of the independent media.

“When Kuwait comes ahead of Egypt, this confounds me,”  Hisham Kassem, a veteran Egyptian publisher and democracy advocate admitted to me amid the bare concrete and dust in the future offices of his ambitious new media project in Cairo a few months ago. “If rulers in the Gulf were exposed to the same level of attacks that Mubarak was in his last years, then heads would roll.”

Mubarak, the military, Morsi and his Muslim Brothers have all tried to revert to politics as more or less usual, proving that denial is more than a river in Egypt. But despite their best efforts to do their worst, the genie is out of the bottle. And it is this revolution of the mind and heart, and whether it can be sustained, that holds the key to the future of the region.

Surprising as it may sound, Israel’s domestic arrangement was once held up by Arab reformers as an example of the freedom they should strive for – and they are striving for that liberty. Today, it is the turn of Israelis to learn from their neighbours and overcome their complacency to defend their hard-won rights from further corrosion and turn the tide back.

___

Follow Khaled Diab on Twitter.

This article first appeared in Haaretz on 11 February 2013.

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Israel and Gaza: When attack is the worst form of defence

 
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By Khaled Diab

As the fog of war distort people’s vision and compassion, can Israeli and Palestinian reject the strategy of violence offered by their leaderships?

Wednesday 21 November 2012

Just days before the current escalation in violence, I encountered a young Gazan art student living “illegally” in the West Bank because Israel would not allow her to change her address.

With her precarious existence as a kind of fugitive in her own land, which had made her unable to visit her besieged hometown for over seven years, and in light of Israel’s blockade of Gaza and its 2008-9 invasion, I asked her how she felt about Israelis.

“I am a human and believe in humanity, regardless of religion, nationality or race. We are all humans. I will not let this affect me,” the art student said, surprising me with the simple intensity of her conviction, as her Jewish-American friend listened in, even though she did not understand a word of what we were saying.

As I watch with rising alarm the fog of imminent war distort people’s vision and compassion, I cannot help but recall this conversation. I wonder whether this young woman is managing to cling on to her admirable compassion and humility, when those around her are losing theirs, or has it too fallen victim to this senseless confrontation?

The first victim of war, it is rightly said, is truth, but its second casualty is humanity. The demonisation, hatred, vitriol and jingoism that has been fired indiscriminately and disproportionately in recent days has been troubling. Personally, though I have felt fury at Israel’s vicious “send Gaza back to the middle ages” military offensive against a captive civilian population – not to mention anger with Palestinian militants for also targeting civilians – I am determined not to allow this to darken my view of ordinary Israelis.

This latest conflagration confounded me but it did not surprise me.

It did not surprise me because we have been here before – in 2006 in Lebanon and 2008-9 in Gaza, to name just two examples, when the Cain of senselessness murdered the Abel of sensibility. The timing was also no big surprise. The smokescreen of military confrontation is a powerful political ploy because it can turn political villains into heroes and discontented citizens into loyal soldiers, silencing growing dissent in the ranks – although it can backfire or blow up in its user’s hands, as discovered by Israeli prime ministers Shimon Peres in 1996 and Ehud Olmert in 2009.

Although this brewing war is ostensibly about the security of Israel, it is, in reality, more about the insecurity of the Israeli government at the ballot box, faced as it has been with growing social unrest, economic dissatisfaction, widening inequality and increasing public fury at the fiscal black hole opened up by settlement subsidies. How else can we explain Israel’s infuriating decision to murder its “subcontractor” in Gaza, Ahmed Jabari, who was, reportedly, on the verge of sealing a permanent truce with Israel?

On the other side of the fence, Hamas has been facing growing popular discontent – with a recent poll suggesting that it would receive just 31% of the popular vote in Gaza, and considerably less in the West Bank, if suspended elections were held – particularly since the eruption of the ‘Arab Spring’, and especially amongst young people. Although it was elected for its apparent lack of corruption and cronyism, now that Hamas is the uncontested master of Gaza, it has been guilty of severe abuses of power and human rights violations. Hamas is also far less tolerant of dissent than Fatah.

Though the current fighting does not surprise me, it does confound me. It confounds me because if Israeli and Gazan leaders are truly sincere in their claims that they seek to defend their people, then why have they not yet recognised that attack is the worst form of defence, at least in this conflict?

What have Israel’s many long campaigns of violence against Hamas achieved? The previous Gaza war did not accomplish its intended objective of destroying Hamas, nor did it halt the flow of rockets into Israel. All it succeeded in doing was to increase the quotient of human misery in Gaza, and with it the measure of hostility and distrust towards Israel among Palestinians and Arabs. This current campaign is about restoring “deterrence”, we’re told, but the greatest deterrent effect it is likely to have is to deter even more of the world from viewing Israel with sympathy or compassion.

More broadly, Israel’s other attempts to destroy Hamas by other means have backfired spectacularly, and though they may serve the interests of extremists, they do little to enhance the security and well-being of ordinary Israelis.

Take the blockade on Gaza. While it has been very effective at increasing the destitution and despair of the average Gazan, it has done very little to weaken Hamas’s hold on power. In fact, tightening the screws on the Strip has led us from a situation in which Hamas had to share power with Fatah – and signal its willingness, now that it was actually in power, to act more pragmatically – to one in which the Islamist movement became the only show in town in Gaza and its position has re-hardened.

Hamas’s violence has also paid precious few dividends to the people of Gaza and the Palestinian people in general. Though some see Hamas’s behaviour as a heroic form of resistance against the humiliation and oppression of occupation, what good has this supposed heroism done Gazans or the Palestinian cause? Ever since Hamas tacitly joined forces with extremists Israelis to assassinate the (admittedly flawed) peace process, Israel has seen to it that the situation of Gazans has deteriorated immensely.

That is not to say that resistance is futile. On the contrary, if Palestinians are to secure their human rights, resistance is necessary. But in a situation where they are by far the weaker party militarily, they will never be able to match Israeli firepower, so they need to unleash the most potent weapon in their arsenal: peaceful people power, which is more suited to the political nature of the conflict.

The relative potency of this weapon can be seen when you compare the peaceful first intifada with the violent second intifada: the first uprising effectively brought Israel to its knees, while the second brought the Palestinians to theirs. And since the second intifada died down Palestinian peace activists have been rediscovering and reasserting the power of non-violent resistance.

While non-violence has received a lot of attention in the Palestinian context, when it comes to Israelis, it has received precious little. This is reflected in the fact that while most Israelis agree, and urge, the Palestinians to abandon violence, they cling on to the right to use it themselves, as illustrated by the overwhelming support for the previous Gaza war among the Israel public.

But the rejection of violence is as important a creed for Israelis as it is for Palestinians, even if they are militarily the more powerful. In this asymmetric conflict, there can be no winners because the more Israel destroys, the more it bolsters Palestinian determination to resist and the more it isolates itself internationally. More importantly, since the Israeli-Palestinian conflict is ultimately political, and not military, it cannot and will not be decided on the battlefield, no matter how long the hawks deny this basic law of nature.

Recognising this important truth, a  resident of a kibbutz near the border with Gaza urged the Israeli government, despite the rockets which have landed in her backyard: “If you want to defend me… try to negotiate until white smoke comes up through the chimney.”

In my view, the best way to defend the Palestinian and Israeli peoples is through a complete rejection by the public of violence, not only that committed by the other side, which is easy, but also, more significantly, that perpetrated by your own. Once the cycle of violence is broken for long enough, the two sides can gradually shift from resistance of the other to coexistence with one another.

Follow Khaled Diab on Twitter.

This is the extended version of an article which first appeared in Haaretz on 18 November 2012.

 

 

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High time for a fly-in to Syria

 
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By Yovav Kalifon

Though risky, a civilian fly-in to Syria will send out a clear message that the world cannot stand idly by while ordinary people are slaughtered.

Friday 18 May 2012

I’ve been thinking a lot about Syria.

What started as an ‘Arab Spring’ wave of demonstrations in early 2011 has developed into a bloody civil war, with 10,000 civilians dead in over a year of fighting. We keep receiving video footage and eye-witness accounts from Syria portraying widespread atrocities, such as massacres, torture, rape, burying people alive, maiming adults and children, just to name a few.

Syrian hopes and calls for reform have turned into barbaric chaos, misery and death.

I won’t try to play the political analyst and tell you who is fighting whom and for what aim. For what I am about to suggest, it is not even necessary for us to agree on who’s the good guy and who is the bad guy in this story. Even if you subscribe to the theory that foreign agents are at play in Syria and that it’s not a real rebellion, you should keep reading. All we need to agree on at this point is that the situation in Syria is bad, that it is out of control, and that civilians are caught in the middle of it.

The other thing I hope you’ll agree with me on is that the situation in Syria has gone on for long enough. The UN, the Arab League, and Turkey in particular, have tried to exercise their influence over Syria, but to no avail. UN observers are having a hard time getting into the country and reaching the necessary places. Humanitarian aid is concentrated mostly outside the borders of Syria, where refugees find help only after they have already lost everything.

With the situation as complex as it is, there is no obvious solution that will satisfy all sides of the conflict. Still, the sounds and images coming out of Syria leave no room for doubt – there is an ongoing slaughter which must be stopped, and our governments are not up to the challenge.

Seeing how all other attempts end in failure, I would like to suggest a civilian, multinational, self-organised fly-in to Syria:

What does a fly-in mean exactly?

The idea is for groups and individuals to make plans to travel to Syria, by land, sea or by air, and arrive there within a set time frame. The aim is to make it clear that the international community is not merely monitoring the horrors from far away, but actually mobilising itself to arrive on Syrian soil, out of genuine sympathy and concern.

A fly-in by whom?

The people who will travel to Syria will mostly be ordinary civilians, people like me and you, as well as private groups and relevant NGOs. As unofficial representatives of the international community, it will be easier for us as volunteers to cross into Syria and to move around. So far, official governmental workers who are required to coordinate their actions with the Syrian authorities were not able to move around effectively enough, for the reason of being official representatives, bound by rules and regulations.

Why a fly-in and not something else?

Our governments and their organisations have had over a year, and there is no obvious sign of them having much influence over the events. Signing online petitions is a nice gesture, but Syria is so deep in blood that they probably don’t notice and care even less. Sending more field hospitals and humanitarian aid to help fleeing refugees is important, but tte ongoing slaughter is creating more refugees.

We all remember what usually happens when our governments intervene militarily in remote conflicts, such as what happened in Libya, for example. I believe most people will prefer not to resort to military means yet again, not in Syria, and not anywhere else. There is reason to give internal disputes a chance to resolve themselves, and when they don’t, there is reason to think of non-violent means of intervention, and to give them a chance to work.

The only non-violent intervention I can think of that will deliver humanitarian aid into Syria proper, inject hundreds of (unofficial) observers and reporters, and breathe hope into a desperate situation, is to stage an international civilian fly-in and cross-in directed at Syria.

What will volunteers do there?

Once in Syria, volunteers should make their presence clearly felt. This will send an important signal, one which will ripple in two opposite directions:

First, the signal to Syria will be that it’s unacceptable, in the 21st century, to slaughter civilians, when we can all see them calling out to us from Youtube, Twitter, FaceBook, etc.

Second, the signal to all the world’s nations will be that it’s unacceptable, in the 21st century, to stand idly by while civilians are being slaughtered, when we can all see them calling out to us from Youtube, Twitter, FaceBook, etc.

The most practical thing volunteers should do in Syria is exactly the work of UN observers, reporters, and humanitarian aid workers. As much as circumstances allow it, volunteers should shed light on the situation, deliver humanitarian aid as best they can, and call on others to join them.

For that to happen, volunteers should equip themselves with cameras, laptops, cellphones, medical aid and equipment. They will function as humanity’s eyes, ears, mouth and conscience.

Hopefully, as more trained individuals and specialised NGOs join the initiative, experts will get involved, specific guidance will be circulated, equipment will be obtained, funds will be raised, logistical support will grow, and the effect will be much greater. Some of the organisations I’d like to see getting behind this initiative are Doctors Without Borders, the Red Cross, Amnesty International.

What will be the effect?

Already in the preparation phases, as more and more people apply for visas to Syria and contact their consulates, their respective governments will notice the rising interest in Syria, and may start to wonder. This alone might lead some countries to rethink their attitude towards the crisis in Syria, and its affect on them.

Assuming the situation continues as it does and the fly-in gets under way, one can expect Syria and other states to interfere with the plan. The Syrian authorities are likely to arrest people whom they suspect to be activists, and then deport them. That is fine since it still gets the job done; it occupies the authorities, it mounts diplomatic pressure on Syria and the international community, it raises global awareness in general, and it sends a message of hope and solidarity to the embattled Syrians. Giving Syrian authorities something of this sort to worry about might lead them to lower the levels of hostilities from their side. Having our governments prevent us from travelling to Syria will similarly compel them to act more responsibly and decisively, knowing full-well their public is greatly concerned about what is happening to Syrians.

Assuming the fly-in eventually gets off the ground and volunteers spread throughout Syria, the presence of international civilians on Syrian soil should have a pacifying effect on all fighting sides. Realising they are being watched in person and in real-time, fighters will adjust their tactics and become less openly brutal. By the same token, and as a later consequence, conflicts in other parts of the world will be affected by the precedent set in Syria of an international civilian fly-in to calm a civil war down.

Of course, a civilian fly-in will only be the beginning of change. It will affect the way the crisis is perceived and addressed, leading to change in how it develops. As the situation calms down gradually, official, trained workers will be able to follow suit and deliver much needed professional aid to Syrian civilians.

But is it safe?

Absolutely not. Syria is not safe, not for you, not for me, not even for Syrians. If it were, I wouldn’t be talking about a fly-in. Drastic times call for drastic measures. When no-one is willing to take risks for what is right, people should expect to see more wrong. This initiative is not for amateurs, thrill seekers or anarchists. It is a serious matter of global concern, a matter of life or death, right and wrong. The fly-in requires commitment, audacity, hard work, confidence, and perseverance. Responsible people should think hard before committing themselves to it, accept responsibility for themselves, and take their stand. The riskiness can be reduced if professionals with experience in conflict zones got involved and organised support and training for inexperienced civilians, that ‘fly-in’ activists who make it to Syria arrive in large groups and ensure that they always have a connection with the outside world.

Why Syria?

It is true that civilians the world over are facing hardships. They too could use our attention and our immediate support. But we don’t have to deal with one single conflict at a time. That would take us forever. Devoting too much global attention to one conflict only will allow other conflicts to flare up and spin out of control, all the while remaining out of sight. Media consumers should insist on having access to a balanced coverage of various issues.

Personally, I feel Syria deserves a lot of media attention right now; resulting in more immediate action. This crisis is still relatively fresh, and should be treated before it becomes the normal situation in Syria. In the Middle East, disputes like the one we see in Syria can easily spill over to engulf other groups and states. They can develop into something much bigger that lasts much longer.

Setting a memorable precedent in Syria, such as conducting a massive fly-in, will have a positive effect on other countries in the region, and far beyond. A demonstration of that sort will advance human rights in an area where it is clearly needed. The Arab Spring happened for a reason, and as the results remain undecided in Syria, a fly-in seems necessary to get the process back on track.

 

Note: The Chronikler advises any civilians interested in taking part in such a fly-in to consider the risks involved carefully and to seek professional advice.

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International Women’s Day: Empowering the average Mo

 
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By Khaled Diab

Arab men who do not fit the traditional ideal of manhood are often regarded as inferior, and this stereotype holds back the emancipation of women.

Thursday 8 March 2012

The feminist cause in the Arab world has generally progressed less than in the West, particularly in the last few decades of rapid Western emancipation.Last year, the egalitarian mass protests that marked the eruption of the Arab Spring looked like they might finally change all that. In Tunisia and Egypt, women from a wide range of backgrounds and walks of life stood shoulder to shoulder with men as equals in the battle against tyranny and for dignity and freedom. “Attitudes toward women are better among the young generation, particularly the middle class, to which most of the politically active women belong,” notes Egyptian feminist and activist Gihan Abou Zeid.

Although women are treated as relative equals by the revolutionary youth movement that has orchestrated the two revolutions, the Muslim conservatives that have made the greatest gains in parliamentary elections in Tunisia and Egypt do not share such enlightened views, although Tunisia Islamists are more progressive than their Egyptian counterparts. And in Egypt, the most troubling development for women has been the unexpected success of the ultra-conservative Salafists who tend to believe that women should neither be seen nor heard.

The reasons that the Arab Spring has not yet blossomed into a summer of gender equality are many and complex. They include the conservative Islamic current that has swept society in recent decades, the discrediting of the Arab model of secularism and suspicion of “Western imports”, and the fact that revolutionising deeply ingrained social attitudes takes far longer to take hold than instigating changes to the political structure.

In addition, one oft-overlooked cultural factor is that, in the bid to invent the new Arab woman, her complement, the new Arab man, has often flown beneath the radar. While independence-seeking Arab women often have clear and positive role models to aspire to in their quest for emancipation, the men in their lives are often left swimming against the tide of popular perception.

Over the years, I have met legions of Arab men who resist female emancipation not out of any abstract objection to gender equality but out of peer pressure and fear of what their families, workmates or neighbours will think of them. Where progressives have failed to capture the imagination of the masses, conservative myth-makers have worked tirelessly to idealise and idolise the vision of invincible, insurmountable manhood. With some brilliant exceptions, television soap operas tend to be the Arab world’s strongest bastion of traditionalism and overt, unsubtle moralising, particularly during the fasting and feasting month of Ramadan.

One hit series which took the Arab world by storm was the Syrian soap opera Bab el-Hara (Alleyway Gate). Set in French-mandate Syria between the two world wars, it paints a sentimental and nostalgic picture of a society peopled by brave and gallant men and their dutiful and obedient women. Director Bassam al-Malla said he intended to create nostalgia for “a world with values, honour, gallantry … and the revolutionary spirit”.

But the world Bab el-Hara attempts to recreate never existed in the first place. “The series conceals all those women who had a political and cultural presence in the Syrian street at that time,” writes Juhayina Khalidiya, in a feminist critique of the TV programme, published in as-Safir newspaper (in Arabic). She notes that expunging such revolutionary women from the narrative is, first and foremost, unfair to their legacy.

This same airbrushing of the heroic and pivotal role women have played in the transformation of society is occurring as we speak among the conservative forces, particularly Islamists, working to hijack the Arab Spring. “The attitude towards women has not been impacted by the historic victory,” says Marwa Rakha, and Egyptian author, broadcaster and blogger. “Men chanted slogans against them like: ‘Men want to topple feminists’ and ‘Since when did women have a voice?’ They were asked to go home and obey God. They were let down by the average Egyptian man and woman alike.”

In addition to the undoubted insult to women this denial of their role represents, the gap between the Arab man, the “average Mo”, and the Arab myth of manhood is bound to breed feelings of inadequacy, because the chasm between fantasy and reality is a yawning one. In the more secular Arab countries, women make up their fair share of the labour force, hold top professional and political positions, often perform better academically than their male peers and refuse the deferential role their grandmothers and great-grandmothers took for granted.

This gap between ideal and reality carries echoes of England from the 19th and up to the first half of the 20th century. In his book The English, Jeremy Paxman writes that British men were “uneasily aware of the injustice of denying women a full role in society”. As if commenting on Bab el-Hara, he notes that: “The stronger the challenge [to the male order], the more vociferous the evangelism about how the family was the cornerstone of the safe and ordered society.”

In contrast to the idealised “real men” of the past in Bab el-Hara, another hit Ramadan series distorts the contemporary reality by depicting the modern man as weak, indecisive and dominated by the women in his life. Yehia el-Fakharani, one of Egypt’s most accomplished actors, abandoned his normal roles of the sophisticated lawyer, MP or professor, to play that of a 60-year-old mummy’s boy in “Yetraba fi Ezzo”.

In the series, his character, Hamada Ezzo, is completely dependent on his mother for direction in every aspect of his life. “This kind of negative character is one of the causes of our falling behind the technologically advanced nations … We see his type frequently in our midsts as Egyptians and Arabs,” the London-based Arabic daily, al-Hayat, quoted el-Fakharani as saying.

He went on to express his belief that the coming generation had to be more hardworking and conscientious to keep up with the times and not depend on past glories. While it is hard to fault this sentiment, the choice of a man living under his mother’s thumb as a parable for the times is telling.

This soap is an odd way to inspire the young generation. If that was truly the writer’s aim, why not, instead of fixating on a nearly-retired man’s subservient relationship with his mother, challenge the rigid and stifling pecking order that keeps the young from reinventing society or the prejudices that keep the female half of the population from fulfilling their full potential?

In real life, Yehia el-Fakhrani is quite an admirable picture of the modern man, a middle-aged “metrosexual”, which makes his pandering to this warped view all the more confounding. He is gentle, caring, considerate and tolerant, while the women in his life are intelligent and successful. His wife, for instance, wrote a critically acclaimed TV drama chronicling the reign of King Farouq.

As long as conservative circles continue successfully to equate female emancipation with male emaciation, the quest for gender equality will stall. Although Arab cinema and literature have carried plenty of examples of modern, progressive men, particularly in the 1960s and 1970s, the problem is that these tend to be quite westernised, and hence alien to your average Arab man on the street.

What we need are mainstream, “average Mo” role models who demonstrate that believing in gender equality squares with being a man, and that empowering women also empowers men and society as a whole.

More articles on gender issues can be found here and here.

This is an updated version of a column which appeared in The Guardian’s Comment is Free on 26 October 2007. Read the related discussion.

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The Arab media paradox

 
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By Khaled Diab

Despite the general Arab decline in the press freedom rankings, the region’s media have, in many ways, actually become freer.

Monday 13 February 2012

Since the Arab quest for freedom from authoritarian rule rippled out across the Middle East and even beyond from the unlikely epicentre of Tunisia, the region’s hopes and aspirations for freedom and dignity have never been higher, at least since the end of colonial rule.

Against this backdrop, Reporters Without Borders’ latest Press Freedom Index (PFI) makes for a depressing and demoralising reality check – at least at first sight.

“The Arab world was the motor of history in 2011 but the Arab uprisings have had contrasting political outcomes so far,” the independent media watchdog said. “Most of the region’s countries have fallen in the index because of the measures taken in a bid to impose a news blackout on a crackdown”

The highest ranking Arab country is Lebanon (93), which is just behind regional leader Israel (92). This means that, given all the tied positions, around 100 countries have, according to the PFI, freer media.

On a relatively successful note, Tunisia, which provided the spark of hope which fired up the so-called Arab Spring and has since managed a fairly smooth transition to greater democracy, has risen 30 positions from 164th to 134th.

In contrast, my native Egypt – which captivated the world with its “Tahrir” spirit – has plummeted 39 positions to stand near the bottom of the global league at 166, sandwiched between Laos and Cuba.

Reporters Without Borders puts this down to “attempts by Hosni Mubarak’s government and then the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces [SCAF] to rein in the revolution’s successive phases”. These tactics included the arrests and convictions of Egyptian journalists and bloggers, not to mention the harassment of foreign journalists.

And at a certain level this relegation is justified. “The Egyptian media grew inside the dictatorship system, which shaped its values, principles, views and its performance, so we shouldn’t expect to see serious change in media performance [so quickly],” argues Gihan Abou Zeid, an Egyptian activist and columnist. “The window to our freedom of expression is sadly still narrow.”

“Abuses against the freedom of the press have increased significantly,” says Wael Eskandar, a young Egyptian journalist based in Cairo who has been closely following the revolution. “In every paper, there is a military censor… Reporters and media personnel are targeted during their coverage of important events on the streets.”

 

Eskandar sites as an example how talk show host Reem Maged and her guest activist and journalist Hossam el-Hamalawy were summoned by SCAF due to on-air accusationsthat the military, which has tried to portray itself as the protector of the revolution, had attacked protesters.

That said, Eskandar feels that his profession has become “more meaningful”. “Politics is now at the forefront of people’s thoughts and the opposition is real,” he reflects. He also admits to feeling freer, despite the obvious dangers of harassment and even prosecution by a military court. “At times like these, it’s worth the risk,” he says.

For all its strengths, the PFI is imperfect and incomplete because it is based on the subjective scoring assigned by various observers, which means that countries with a more critical culture could score more poorly than countries which are less critical.

It also does not take into account qualitative criteria, such as the actual content, as well as the plurality, accuracy and scope of the reporting and commentary in the media. Reporters Without Borders admits as much. “The index should in no way be taken as an indication of the quality of the media in the countries concerned,” the watchdog notes in its methodology.

What this boils down to is that the index can provide a misleading impression about the nature of the media in a given country. For example, someone who is unaware of the nature of the media in the region could easily conclude that Saudi Arabia (158th) enjoys greater media freedom than Egypt because it is eight positions higher in the index.

But this couldn’t be further from the truth. In many ways, it piles on insult to the injury already experienced by the dynamic segments of the Egyptian media which first faced down Mubarak’s state security apparatus and then SCAF’s military crackdowns, epitomised by the likes of dentist-turned-novelist-and-revolutionary-columnist Alaa al-Aswany whom Foreign Policy named its top global thinker for 2011. In contrast, most of their Saudi colleagues refused or have failed to rock the boat in the kingdom’s stagnant and closely controlled media.

Moreover, just because the regime hounds and intimidates journalists and tries to curb their freedom, that does not mean that it has been particularly successful in its endeavour. Sure, most of the state-owned media remains the loyal lapdog of whoever runs the show, whether it’s a pre-revolution dictatorship or a post-revolution junta.

But, in Egypt, it is really a  tale of two media, with the independent media breaking significant new ground, not only since the revolution but also in the years running up to it.

Although self-censorship remains something of a problem even in the independent media, as demonstrated by the controversy over the shelving of an entire print run of Egypt Independent, the revolution has galvanised legions of journalists and media personalities to take on SCAF as they did Mubarak.

Many Egyptian journalists and media personalities express a newfound pride in their vocation and an irrepressible determination to carry on exposing the truth. For instance, late last year, al-Tahrir TV’s talk show host, the hard-talking Doaa Sultan, dedicated a special episode of her talk show to mount a scathing if melodramatic attack on the Egyptian military and the media and political forces, including the Muslim Brotherhood, which it has co-opted as a fig leaf for its rule.

Moreover, there is a third pillar to Egypt’s media landscape that has overshadowed even the independent media, the social and citizen media, which spearheaded the revolution and refuses to be put down. A good example of this is the defiant blogger Maikel Nabil Sanad who, despite having spent more than 300 days behind bars (including at least 80 on hunger strike), was not cowed into silence. On his release, he said: “We have one enemy, the military regime and its political dictatorship … It is imperative that we bring [it] down.”

And that sense of defiance is Egypt’s greatest hope for the future.

 

This article was published in The Guardian‘s Comment is Free section on 9 February 2012. Read the related discussion.

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Revolution@1: Foreigners without an agenda

 
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By Mariya Petkova

State-sponsored conspiracy theories have been bad for foreigners in Egypt. But Egyptians must not succumb to xenophobia and must be open to the world.

Thursday 26 January 2012

I was only three years old when the Berlin Wall fell and my country, Bulgaria, started on the road to democracy. I don’t remember much of the totalitarian regime that ruled for 50 years, other than the small red uniform that I had to wear to kindergarten. My parents have made sure that I know what they had to live through. They told me stories of fear, humiliation, and disgust. As much I sympathised with them, I could never fully understand what they felt for the first thirty years of their lives.

Then I came to Egypt, first as a student and then as a journalist. I could see the similarities between Hosni Mubarak’s regime and the communist dictatorship that ruled Bulgaria. I heard stories from Egyptians, read about torture, saw people emigrate because they couldn’t take it anymore, but I still didn’t fully understand their pain. The worst that used to happen to me was my taxi would get  stopped at night by the traffic police at the entrance to Maadi and my having to show my “white” face through the window to get them to expedite the check. Being “white” in Egypt allowed many of the expats to pay little attention to the suffering of their hosts. We were in such a position of privilege, getting treatment that most Egyptians never saw. I can’t remember how many times I heard Egyptian friends tell me that they don’t feel like citizens of their own country. “Egypt does not belong to the Egyptians,” they would say. And it was true. We, the “white” aliens, together with the Egyptian elite, hijacked the country. We had the kind of rights that the normal citizens should have enjoyed.

It came as a shock to many of us foreigners when state TV’s rumours about us being behind the uprising succeeded in  taking hold of the minds of many  Egyptians and we started being targeted on the streets. At the time, I looked at this phenomenon as “the massive loss of clear thinking and normal reasoning” – those were the words I used in my blog entry on 4 February 2011. Now that I think about it, the wild xenophobia that lasted about four or  five days was part of the catharsis of Egyptian people. They finally took us down from that pedestal of the untouchables that we had been sitting on.

For many of us, this was also a chance to get a taste of what billions of “non-white” people experience around the world – fear, persecution and injustice.


I wrote the above passage a week after my arrest by the military police on the day Hosni Mubarak fell (11 February 2011). The article never made it to print because my former Egyptian editor decided it was too dangerous to publish. Since then a lot has happened. What I thought was just four or five days of catharsis, turned out to be a year of chronic paranoia that some Egyptians have succumbed to. Without realising it, I myself have also fallen prey to the collective paranoia.

Every time at a Tahrir checkpoint, I would feel relieved to see the brow of the boy or girl from el-ligan el-sha’bia (the local, ad hoc security that popped up in the absence of the police) twist into a question mark at the sight of the Cyrillic characters in my passport. I would take photos sneakily, hoping no one would ask what I was doing. I would wear the same ragged jeans, worn-out shoes and jacket which I wore every day for the 18 days it took to topple Mubarak. I would almost definitely avoid being with Americans for too long at Tahrir. And just in case, I had prepared a short speech about “little Bulgaria” also suffering historically at the hands of the evil Western powers and having nothing to do with colonialism; oh, and by the way, we share common Ottoman heritage.

I was immensely happy three weeks ago to talk to an Egyptian in Bulgaria who was criticising the hell out of my country in a fancy Sofia restaurant. Ha! After Ahmed’s tirade, I have all the right to sit in Costa and criticise the messy political situation in Egypt, I thought happily.

A bit later, I realised that I had lost all my senses, that I have also fallen victim to the infamous Egyptian state TV broadcasting conspiracy theories about foreign agents and agendas. It seems that I was desperately trying to convince myself that I am not a “a’meela” (foreign agent) and I don’t have a secret agenda when I open my mouth to express an opinion about Egypt in front of an Egyptian.

Along with the regular flood of conspiracy theories and reports about apprehended spies of various nationalities broadcast on Egyptian TV, calls for the censorship of “foreign voices” have intensified and have come from the most unexpected places. Last month, al-Masry al-Youm’s editor-in-chief Magdi el-Galad published quite a lengthy rant in which he attempted to justify the censorship of an opinion piece in the English edition of the paper, Egypt Independent. The article written by Robert Springborg talks about cleavages within the ranks of the Egyptian army, which el-Galad probably considered too dangerous for himself to publish. He chose to mask his spinelessness in fiery “patriotic” words about dying for the Egyptian nation and foiling Springborg’s evil plot to hurt it, about snubbing the Pentagon, and yet forgetting to ask them to take back their $1.3 billion in annual military aid to the Egyptian army.

El-Gallad might be an obvious case, but Mona Abaza, a well-respected AUC professor, is not. A few months before the Egypt Independent affair, she wrote a piece published in al-Ahram and Jadaliyya in which she complains about Western academics flooding “local” Egyptian scholars with requests for assistance researching the Arab Spring. According to her, her Western colleagues come for just a week to visit the country and acquire the legitimacy of experts on the region. “Without sounding xenophobic,” Abaza says, trying to absolve herself of the xenophobia of her words, which do not distinguish between “some” and “all” Westerners.

There are plenty of mediocre Western journalists and scholars who not only do not understand the Middle East but also spread their faulty perceptions to readers in the West. However, there are also many who put a lot of effort into their research (without exploiting “locals”), who had been interested and lived in the region for a long time before the Arab Spring and have utmost respect for its cultures and peoplse. Elliot Colla, for example, who is an editor at Jadaliyya and who taught at my alma mater, is an excellent professor of comparative literature and a translator of Arabic literature. The Guardian has a staff of “Western” (non-local) correspondents in the Middle East such as Jack Shenker and Martin Chulov, who have done a great job covering events in the region. If el-Galad and Abaza were to give it honest consideration, they themselves could add quite a few additional examples.

I agree that Egyptians should tell their own story and I agree that the West should not meddle in the internal affairs of the country or try to set a direction for its transition. But it has to be recognised that the presence and the work of many foreigners on reporting and analysing what is happening in Egypt is of certain benefit to Egyptians. After all, international solidarity did play a role in Egypt’s revolution, and if Egyptians can comment on and criticise Bulgaria and the West, surely the reverse also applies. Limiting, harassing or completely censoring “foreign” voices will not bring any good to the country.

Throughout its 20 years of transition from communism, Bulgaria has rarely received coverage in the Western media and even more rarely positive coverage, which, I admit, can be annoying. But I would rather see more criticism of my country that would move and shake its stagnant system than be happy with the status quo in which some Bulgarians congratulate themselves for not making it every day on to international front pages like bankrupt Greece does.

Happy first anniversary, revolutionary Egypt!

 

This article is part of a special Chronikler series to mark the first anniversary of the Egyptian revolution.

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