For some, this is a very easy question to answer. Yet for me, having a Lebanese father, but having seldom visited the country throughout my existence in this life, I find that answering this question with “yes” elicits in me feelings of dishonesty. Within the typical constructs of identity, I am Lebanese, certainly more so than the Dutch man who asked me the question. I have ‘Lebanese blood’, if you will; I have vacationed in the country’s capital, spent afternoons with family in its picturesque mountains, and been stung by the overpopulated jellyfish of its forgiving seas. Yet I am no part of the society of those who share this blood, a society deadlocked in a seemingly endless tragedy of sectarian power struggle and foreign obtrusion.

However through intently following the political developments of the country, I have shared in the pain of this tragedy. I have formed opinions and taken sides in a conflict that has caused me no physical travail, but has produced arguments that are formed as much by emotion as reason. Many of my nights in Holland were spent passionately informing acquaintances of the happenings in my father’s nation, and of the terror inflicted on its people by confessional politics and divinely inspired militiamen. As I write these words, I wonder whether my apathy and unease prior to my visit found its roots in the image of it I had created through the text of books, papers and blogs, and whether this contributed to my experience of identity conflict. My trip to Lebanon was needed, to decry what I had only read, and to rediscover the charm of its country, so often lost in the dust of its troubles. I would travel intent to evade the vociferous presence of Lebanese politics, to fall back in love with the country in a manner that transcends the polemic.

It would not take me more than 5 minutes on Beirut’s highways to realize how overly ambitious I had been. My last trip to the country was in 2004 after my graduation from high school in Riyadh. It had been a trip initiated solely to escape the dry life of Saudi Arabia’s capital, to discover what it was like to act on my teenage ambitions in a country that provided me more than ample opportunity to do so. As such, my memories of my last visit were filled with scenes of dancing beauties, extravagant beaches and rousing nights. In a way, I had wanted to recapture this indulgent spirit on my current trip, yet my memories were dealt a blow of reality by the displayed advertisements on the road leaving the airport. Scattered amongst the ads of designer brands, resort beaches and refined liquor, Hezballah made a presence. Images of Imad Mugniyeh and the party of God’s logo on raised billboards and the sides of bridges made their impact felt, as the conversation in our car immediately turned to politics.

“They’ve become really strong,” started my uncle, referring to the party without invoking its name as if to solicit inquiry to his remarks. My father caught the bait: “I’ve become pro-Hezballah now, Karim doesn’t like that,” he said laughing, not knowing the escape I wanted from this discussion. I remained silent, nodding occasionally to acknowledge that I was listening as a recap of the previous month’s events began to be told. Lebanon’s recent history would be recounted often on my trip, by various people, all of whom were unaware that I had kept up with the events of the country. There were certainly many details I was unable to learn while abroad, however I understood the implications of the events that had happened. Even so, I would always allow whomever was speaking to do so freely, as I know the feeling of knowing too much about something and needing an outlet to vent indirectly.

That night, I gave a friend of mine a call to let him know I was in town. Ahmed had studied with me in Riyadh, and after four years of not seeing each other the thought of a reunion produced tremendous excitement in me. Driving around Beirut in a car nearly as old as I, we shared stories of our past, filled each other in on our lives and those of others we had gone to school with. We stopped by the corniche and picked up a cup of coffee each, enjoying the nighttime breeze provided by the mercy of the waters. Our night had been so enjoyable that the feelings of apathy I had before traveling to Lebanon seemed a distant past. It was inevitable, however, that our conversation would turn to broach the one subject I had sought to avoid. With a question I was surprised not to have met up to that point, we got into a discussion on Lebanese current events: “By the way, what are you studying now?,” Ahmed asked. “International Relations,” I answered, anticipating where our conversation would turn.

That question came to spark many more of these conversations. With my cousin, who entered this world a couple of years ahead of me, I had a long talk about my views on theocracy, the state, and American hegemony in the region. My cousin was interested in my perspective on these matters, yet could not avoid the irresistible temptation of lecturing me on the domestic events of the last few months. “Hezballah is very strong here now,” he told me, echoing the words of his father. “Sooner or later they’ll take over the country, you know.”

In fact, they had already proven that militarily they were unmatched with what was widely described as a “siege” of Beirut by the foreign press. Clashes in the streets of the capital erupted on May 6th after a decision by the government to take action against Hezballah’s telecommunications network, in what was described as “Shiite militiamen” quickly gaining the upper hand with a show of coercive dominance. My aunt relayed what she witnessed on Mar Elias, the street of her residence, where large pictures of Nasrallah were displayed along the sidewalks. They remain there today, a present reminder of the events still fresh in the minds of a wary populace.

But much to the testament of the country’s character, some Qatari mediation between the government and its opposition led to an agreement which saw an 18-month political crisis end. Hezballah essentially gained its demands for official legitimacy and increased power within the government, and announced that its protest in downtown Beirut (referred to in the press as “tent city”) that had crippled business and driven away investors would be dismantled. The country’s stock market jumped, and the night life that was a staple of the capital returned almost instantly. People reveled in the sedatives of partying and shopping, with the country’s woes haven been given a figurative band-aid to close its wounds temporarily. Such was the yearning for fun that to the untrained eye, the country would seem to have never had any problems. Such was the comedy amongst the tragedy of Lebanon’s political reality.

My final night in Beirut, I was afforded a few hours to sit on my grandfather’s balcony and reflect on my trip, having wished my friends and most of my family farewell. I was joined by my cousin, who had been impressed by my ability to speak with him about politics and Lebanon at length, for a cup of coffee and cigarettes before I was to catch some sleep for my flight the next morning. I had made my views on Hezballah clear to him during our conversation earlier in the week, telling him of my displeasure at seeing the capital so stained with the party’s presence. What we had also managed to talk about was the resurgent nature of the Lebanese spirit. “Only in this country,” he told me, “will you see a shift as sudden as what we’ve seen the past few months. It shows that people just want to live.”

I began to realize that my attempt to distance myself from the political was not a unique endeavor, but one that was symbolic of the country’s turnaround since the end of May. The political struggles were offset every once in a while by coexistence and the lavish enjoyment of life, only to succumb to our human tendencies for conflict. While my nights were often filled with politics, they would also be occupied by concerts, crowded pubs, and spirited parties. I would also come to rediscover what it was about the country that roused emotion in me, what I felt I needed to defend in my discussions about Lebanon back in Europe. From the drives through its radiant mountains to the good nature of my family and friends, I had fallen back in love with a country which I now felt completed my identity.

Yet despite reconnecting with what I had thought to be a love lost, and despite the abundant distractions the country provided, I could not escape the shadow of politics that engulfed it. And I could not escape the feeling that Lebanon’s stability would soon fall prey to the temporary remedies so joyously celebrated by its populous. But such is the dichotomy of tragedy and comedy in the land of the cedar.

I arrived from Lebanon yesterday and decided to write something this morning. This is an excerpted version of an unfinished article I’m writing for a local magazine in Holland, and I figured I’d post it here. The name(s) used in the article were changed to allow me to write more freely.

Karim El Assir

In keeping with a similar theme to a previous post of mine, I thought this report by Joshua Stacher was worth a small write-up. Some may remember his article published last year in the Boston Globe along with Samer Shahata arguing that in light of the Brotherhood’s electoral successes, a policy of engagement is warranted. The attitudes towards the Muslim Brotherhood (MB) in the West are beginning to change, and despite some long-held reservations about the group Western governments seem to be opening up to the idea of responsible engagement with a major Islamist force in the region.

While I generally have little problem with the notion of talking to the Muslim Brotherhood, a change from the current prevailing policy of non-engagement would not come without its share of implications. Firstly, as Stacher makes note of in his report, there are many ‘grey areas’ surrounding the MB. These include “political pluralism,the use of violence, the principles of equal citizenship and universal human rights, and the relationship between religion and state.” Yet with this acknowledgement two policy recommendations are made concerning the relationship of Western governments towards the MB. What I find laudable about these recommendations is that they are presented in the context of the Egyptian political landscape as a whole. While I can’t find the paper to link to right now, I have argued in the past that while increased engagement of the countries’ theocrats is warranted, it should not come at the expense of Egypt’s other political factions, no matter how ineffective they have proven to be. In other words, the West should not embolden the theocrats at the expense of the democrats in the country, who equally have not been given a fair playing field to run their political activities. Stacher presents his recommendations in this context, one which I think is missing at times in other analyses of Western policy towards the MB.

The two recommendations are essentially that the West should increase its pressure on the Egyptian government for political reform which would allow for plurality in the system, while increasing efforts to open up channels of communication between the country’s opposition parties, including the MB. According to the executive summary, a future report is in the works which will highlight some of the more critical aspects of these policy recommendations and their implications.

I am no fan of the Brotherhood, and will continue to have my reservations against the group. However a broader policy of communication with both the theocrats and democrats of Egypt’s political opposition, with care taken not to promote any particular group and stimulate the freedom political activity in the country, would be in the interest of the country as a whole.

You can download the entire report here.

Here is a previous post of mine over at MidEastYouth, in which I expressed some of my reservations towards the Muslim Brotherhood’s position as Egypt’s political opposition, with an important quote from Saad Eddin Ibrahim. I was arguing for an empowerment of the ’silent majority’ Ibrahim speaks of through conditional U.S aid to Egypt:

The fact of the matter is Egypt, and the regime ruling it is extremly dependant on U.S support, which they have maintained through the illusion of the Muslim Brotherhood as the main political opposition. Secular parties are banned from forming or even gathering, charged with fabricated accusations of crime and effectively marginalised, yet to much less media fanfare than news of Brotherhood members being arrested. This is not unintentional, and as democracy activist Saad Eddin Ibrahim said in a recent interview (asked about the Brotherhood being the largest opposition group (link):

We could not organize rallies, we could not organize marches or demonstrations because of emergency laws. Emergency laws have been in effect since 1981, since the assassination of President [Anwar] Sadat. So for the last 26 years, these emergency laws have prevented secularists from going out and organizing and mobilizing.

On the other hand, the Muslim Brothers have the mosques, and that is an advantage that is without design probably by the regime, but it has played in their favor. Meanwhile, I do not like to exaggerate their constituency because despite the fact that they have freer space to move in, still their share in the last Egyptian parliamentary election was 20 percent out of the 20 percent [of registered voters who actually voted]. So, 77 percent of the registered voters did not like to vote for them, nor to vote for the regime. And that is a 77 percent that I consider to be the silent majority, the potential constituency for liberal-democratic parties whenever liberal-democratic parties are allowed full freedom to operate.

After watching ‘Fitna‘ yesterday, I wasn’t sure whether to post a reaction that night here on the blog. The film failed to move me either way. It was a series of images which we have all seen before, especially regular readers of blogs, while the only thing distinguishing it from a U.S presidential campaign ad was that Wilders’ argument is directed at the entire religion and not just at an identified radical strain.

Let’s face it, the film was boring. It didn’t live up to its hype. However now that it seems the initial reaction to the film was one of relief, it may very well shine the spotlight on Wilders’ argument. It is an argument that I do not believe can stand much scrutiny if considered honestly, and one that is not easily proven by a 15 minute film.

Of course, the IRI responded quickly. The Iranian Foreign Minister was quoted as saying “This heinous measure by a Dutch lawmaker and a British establishment … is indicative of the continuation of the evilness and deep vengeance such Western nationals have against Islam and Muslims.”

In Pakistan, a few demonstrations took place, none of them attracting over 100 people. The story still managed to make the IHT. Indonesia also issued a statement, saying:

“We are of the view that the film has a racist flavour and is an insult to Islam, hidden under the cover of freedom of expression,” a Foreign Ministry spokesman said. “We call on Indonesian people not to be incited.”

Once again, however, all this pales in comparison to reaction within Holland. I wrote this at the beginning of the month:

Yet what is worrying about this story is its’ propensity to attract judgment on the basis of foreign reaction. The movie’s release and broadcast may not necessarily stoke severe social tensions within the Netherlands, but looks bound to provoke an international reaction disproportionate to the issue itself. Religious leaders from Egypt and Syria have demanded the EU take action against those who insult religion, for example, bringing back into focus an increasingly familiar debate of cultural sensitivity versus freedom of speech.

I still think this story has a way to go before people forget about it, although it shouldn’t provide us with much more than increased calls for interfaith dialogue as well as the lowest common denominator protests we read about every so often. One hopes at least that we don’t see an exaggerated reaction to a movie that isn’t very offensive.

One may find it hard to argue with Obama on this point, as his candidacy has certainly alerted the world to a different face of American politics. Yet “the world” is an attentive place, and people are inclined to follow a story as much for its audacity to hope as its audacity to bully. One such story, which has had a development of outlandish proportions, is about the yet to be released movie “Fitna”. As I imagine most readers will already know, Dutch MP Geert Wilders’ 10 minute film is set to aggravate an already scrutinized Muslim population, both in his native country and around the world.

His film’s message is rather simple and has been made numerous times by the man himself: Islam is fascist, and the Qur’an incites violence of deadly proportions. Wilders’ insistence on making these points central to his political career has not come without personal cost; the man has had to leave his country for a period of time, travel with constant security surveillance, and even work out of a prison cell at one point in his life. According to some he has taken up the mantle of Theo van Gogh and Ayaan Hirsi Ali in Dutch politics, although he’ll tell you he’s been making these statements long before anyone began listening to him.

Wilders’ latest attempt at international infamy is one of precision and deliberation. While last year’s Muhammed caricatures inflamed cultural tensions well after their publication, the Dutch politician’s first cinematic venture has already managed to provoke significant reaction from officials of governments that are oft-labeled illegitimate and non-representative by their constituents. Iranian officials have threatened an economic embargo and the Egyptian foreign ministry has patronizingly lectured the Dutch government on free speech and responsibility. Never mind that neither of these suddenly defensive bodies retains any authority upon which to issue statements of responsibility. They have already played right into a game which has been designed to provide ideological vindication for its designer.

As the world reacts to his unreleased film, the bleach blonde-haired politician has seemingly taken it all in stride. “It’s not the aim of the movie but people might be offended, I know that. So what the hell? It’s their problem, not my problem,” Wilders remarked in a recent television interview with an American network. The statement is masked in unwavering bravado, although it does expose a flaw in his plan which could soon turn his native population fully against him. A recent poll revealed a majority of Dutch citizens in support of the film’s broadcast, while also wary of its consequences of the Netherlands’ international image and its relations with Arab nations:

The poll by TNS NIPO for RTL television showed that 54 percent thought the film should be broadcast although 76 percent expected it to increase tensions between Muslims and non-Muslims and 74 percent saw worsening relations with Arab nations.
The survey of 600 people conducted on February 29 showed that 68 percent expected a boycott like that seen against Denmark after cartoons of the Prophet Mohammed appeared in a Danish newspaper.

The Dutch government has taken exhaustive measures to distance itself from both the film and the politician, while cautioning that citizens and companies abroad could conceivably bare the brunt of Wilders’ actions. NATO’s secretary general has joined this chorus of vigilance, warning of the potential backlash on Dutch soldiers serving in Afghanistan. “If the [troops] find themselves in the line of fire because of the film, then I am worried about it and I am expressing that concern,” he said in a television interview. With the majority of Dutch citizens now siding with free-speech over outrage, it has been suggested that any significant backlash against their country as a result of the film could swing a tide of resentment directly at the leader of the Freedom Party.

“In Holland we have a tendency to underestimate the significance of some of our politicians’ actions,” remarked Thomas Luijken, an active member of the student political party NOVUM. “With Ayaan Hirsi Ali, whether you agree with her or not, we did not realize the impact she would have around the world.” When I asked him whether, after considering the controversy this film is being met with and the warnings of harm to Dutch interests overseas, he would be willing to take a stand either for or against Wilders, he responded resolutely. “If people protest overseas, that’s their right, unless they become riots and not protests. But if Dutch are negatively affected by this abroad and this results in some sort of violence, I would join a protest against (Wilders). It’s not a very Dutch thing to do, but if (a protest) happened I would join it.”

While this was one person’s reaction, it was emblematic of relative Dutch apathy to the issue. Although media outlets have obsessed over the story for weeks now, local Muslim groups and other offended parties have responded with arguments of legality and social sophistication. In the southern city of Maastricht, the areas’ largest mosque has held discussion nights opening its’ doors to all interested parties for a ‘respectful dialogue’. Others’ who feel slighted by the movie, and with Wilders himself, have sought legal action against the politician who was recently described as a ‘rising star’ by a piece in the Guardian.

Yet what is worrying about this story is its’ propensity to attract judgment on the basis of foreign reaction. The movie’s release and broadcast may not necessarily stoke severe social tensions within the Netherlands, but looks bound to provoke an international reaction disproportionate to the issue itself. Religious leaders from Egypt and Syria have demanded the EU take action against those who insult religion, for example, bringing back into focus an increasingly familiar debate of cultural sensitivity versus freedom of speech.

What is undeniable at this point is that the world is indeed watching. They will watch both the provocation as well as the ensuing outrage, which if significant will likely find its source well beyond the borders of the Netherlands. When asked to give one statement on the issue, knowing that many around the world will be listening, Thomas Luijken grinned, and calmly issued perhaps the most pertinent of advice one could give. “Don’t take this man too seriously,” he said, “we really don’t.”

The world is watching. Here’s hoping they see an over hyped controversy for what it truly is.

(Karim blogs over at Outsider On The Inside)

Walking down Alexandria’s corniche in a swimsuit and flip-flops at 11:30 at night will attract some stares. Sport a haircut like Hendrix (Jimmi), walk alongside your Egyptian/American friend speaking English loudly, and people start to ask where your from.

No problem, though. Alexandria is the type of city you go to be approached and asked questions. A population this warm, with a clear strip of Mediterranean sea to match, and one quickly realizes that this city was made for tourism.

It is no wonder then that this coastal city served historically as one of the earliest points of commerce and culture in the region, attracting merchants from the Indian subcontinent to Ancient Europe. While the city may not resemble the Alexandria which was conquered by Alexander and later developed by Cleomenes into the commercial centre it is historically revered for, the charm that surely attracted its’ Macedonian conquest still exists in the most vibrant of forms.

The perfect start to the city and its beautiful coast is towards its Eastern side, which houses one of the remnants of Modern Egypt’s former monarchical history. The district of Montazah is distinguished by the old royal palace which once housed King Farouk, and was seized by Gamal Abd El Nasser along with most royal holdings during the 1952 revolution. The palace itself is surrounded by flush green gardens, with small roads lined with palm trees navigating paths to the different sections of Alex’s beach that it occupies. It goes without saying that the Mediterranean is the best sea; its water is so warm and forgiving, one can spend hours on end floating in its bays. Several cabins line the coast, making for a popular vacation destination and packed beaches during the summer. Any strip of Alexandria’s beaches is a good strip of Alexandria’s beaches.

Swimming makes even the strictest of dietitians hunger for a big meal, and what a city Alexandria is to be hungry in. For my part, in less than a week’s stay I managed to sink my teeth into the softest of fish, the most flavourful of grilled meats, and the kind of fresh bread that serves the food as an edible boat whose final destination is my mouth. To me, true culinary satisfaction can only be experienced in this form.

A visit to the beach quickly turns day into night, and the Mediterranean’s generous breeze makes sitting at a cafe on the corniche with a shisha pipe an activity intended to relax the soul. I find it difficult to verbalize this experience; what one witnesses while sitting at one of these outdoor tables, which depending on how crowded the cafe is getting may actually be located among a fleet of moving cars on the street itself, must be what guide-books appropriately phrase as ”watching the world go by”. The concept of window-shopping is revolutionized here, with salesmen walking by offering anything from a selection of watches to portable cellphone chargers to dressy socks, all without the customer moving out of their state of ultimate requiescence. If a transaction is desired, it takes place with such ease that one needn’t let go of their cold cup of thick, freshly squeezed mango juice which so accordingly compliments Alexandria’s beach climate.

Of course, a visit to Alexandria these days is not complete without taking a tour of the newly inaugurated Bibliotecha Alexandria, in part a commemoration of the Library of Alexandria which was destroyed over several centuries of conquest. It’s organization alone distinguishes itself from Egypt’s other landmarks and museums, save for its extraordinary design. The library is well staffed, visually appealing, and has a sizable collection which will undoubtedly continue to grow and match other national libraries of the world. Equipped with several museums and exhibitions in art, cinema, ancient artifacts and literary history, the a few hours in the Library makes for a unique cultural experience which will leave its tourists impressed and its nationals proud.

Outside of the library, I get into a cab. The driver glances over at my colorful lace bracelet, shiny aviators and big backpack. The inevitable question arrives: “Enta men feen?”

My answer rolls sweetly off the tongue. “Ana Masri”

However, that’s not what the Egyptian government will have you believe. Speaking to MENA, Egyptian Ambassador to Washington Nabil Fahmy said that “the aid which the United States gives to Egypt is not a gift but it is (based on) a U.S. assessment that it serves the U.S. interest… In other words, this aid is an investment for U.S. interests in the Middle East (link)”

An investment is right; Egypt has recieved over $60 billion in military and economic assistance over roughly 3 decades. I myself have benefited from USAID first hand, making use of educational resources at the AUC such as laptops and equipment donated from such aid progams (we were constantly reminded of this by the big red and blue stickers attached to everything). However one wonders if the recipient of this aid truly believes that what they are recieving is in the interest of the other, will the political status-quo ever change?

Thus, with this additional measure of accountablity in this years’ foreign appropriations bill we are seeing the reaction of a country that has for too long been praised as being a model of stability (which without progress becomes stagnation) and rewarded as such. Foreign Minister Aboul Gheit reacted angrily earlier this month to a remark by President Bush at the recent Prague conference, in which he called for the release of Ayman Nour. Ambassador Fahmy called the last 3 weeks “not pleasant days” in regards to relations with the U.S.

The fact of the matter is Egypt, and the regime ruling it is extremly dependant on U.S support, which they have maintained through the illusion of the Muslim Brotherhood as the main political opposition. Secular parties are banned from forming or even gathering, charged with fabricated accusations of crime and effectively marginalised, yet to much less media fanfare than news of Brotherhood members being arrested. This is not unintentional, and as democracy activist Saad Eddin Ibrahim said in a recent interview (asked about the Brotherhood being the largest opposition group link:

We could not organize rallies, we could not organize marches or demonstrations because of emergency laws. Emergency laws have been in effect since 1981, since the assassination of President [Anwar] Sadat. So for the last 26 years, these emergency laws have prevented secularists from going out and organizing and mobilizing.

On the other hand, the Muslim Brothers have the mosques, and that is an advantage that is without design probably by the regime, but it has played in their favor. Meanwhile, I do not like to exaggerate their constituency because despite the fact that they have freer space to move in, still their share in the last Egyptian parliamentary election was 20 percent out of the 20 percent [of registered voters who actually voted]. So, 77 percent of the registered voters did not like to vote for them, nor to vote for the regime. And that is a 77 percent that I consider to be the silent majority, the potential constituency for liberal-democratic parties whenever liberal-democratic parties are allowed full freedom to operate.

So if we are to view the stipulations tied to U.S foreign aid as the medium through which democratic reform can be pressured upon Egypt, then shouldn’t other stipulations include the empowerment of that silent majority? Or perhaps some money could be tied to decreasing the acceptance of anti-semetic language in society, or the empowerment of religious minorities who feel discriminated against. The point is these measures should be welcomed, and implemented, even to the chagrin of the Egyptian government.

In the years leading up to the next Presidential election in Egypt, it is the empowerment of the masses that will determine to what degree the next leader will be representative of his people, and to what degree the country will remain ’stable’. The U.S has an opportunity now to discipline a regime which it has given political credibility and good standing in the international community, and perhaps genuinely turn it into the regional leader it already claims to be.

(Visit my blog Outsider On The Inside)

“The increasingly negative political and media discourse targeting Muslims and Islam in the United States and Europe has made things all the more difficult,” the foreign ministers said. “Islamophobia became a source of concern, especially after the Sept. 11, 2001 attacks, but the phenomenon was already there in Western societies in one form or the other,” they pointed out. “It gained further momentum after the Madrid and London bombings. The killing of Dutch film director Theo van Gogh in 2004 was used in a wicked manner by certain quarters to stir up a frenzy against Muslims,” the ministers pointed out. Van Gogh had made a controversial film about Muslim culture.

The OIC foreign ministers deplored the misrepresentation in the Western media of Islam and Muslims in the context of terrorism. “The linkage of terrorists and extremists with Islam in a generalized manner is unacceptable,” they said. “This is further inciting negative sentiments and hatred in the West against Muslims,” they said. The ministers also pointed out that whenever the issue of Islamophobia was discussed in international forums, the Western bloc, particularly some members of the European Union, tried to avoid discussing the core issue and instead diverted the attention from their region to the situation of non-Muslims and human rights in the OIC member states.

The Foreign Ministers seem to have a grip on what is causing Islamophobia, correctly highlighting events in Holland, Spain, and the United States that have certainly provided backlash on Muslim communities. Yet, in this same context, is Islamophobia really the largest form of terrorism?

While many will undoubtedly view the conclusions of this conference as necessary in dealing with an issue surrounding Muslims living in the West, it pains me to see a group of Muslim leaders mention events such as the killing of Theo Van Gogh, only to conclude that these events are significant in highlighting Islamophobia. If a Jew killed a prominent politician in downtown Cairo, then stabbed a letter into his victim’s chest proclaiming his motivation as his religion and promising similar attacks in the future, I may become slightly phobic towards Judaism. Yet if we are to label the resulting backlash as terror, what is our conception of the event itself?

The problem I have with this article is not the premise; Islamophobia is bad, and its a problem to which attention should be given. It’s label as the worst form of terrorism, however, seeks to diminish the roles which Muslims have played in creating this phobia towards their religion. If the Foreign Ministers truly believe that Islamophobia is the worst form of terrorism, what do they have to say to victims of suicide bombings in Sharm El Sheikh, Dahab, Amman, Algeria, and Morocco.

What about those killed daily in Baghdad? Is their plight less important than those who suffer Islamophobia?

It would seem to me that the ideal way to tackle Islamophobia would be to cut of what is sourcing these negative attitudes; instead of a conference in which general claims are made out of political motivation, why is the root problem of many Muslim youth who are committing these crimes not discussed?

People are very quick to criticize the West, which has successfully been characterized as the “other” in the Middle East. Claims of conspiracies and movements aimed against Islam are ridiculous; yet our politicians and ministers help enforce them. Instead of creating the gulf we see between the cultures of the East and West, when will we see a conference self-critical of Islam and the actions of its followers.

I subscribe to the school of thought that says its unhealthy to continually propose changes to someone else’s house until your own is in order. The easiest way to help reduce Islamophobia is to help fight terrorism, and stop those who create these phobias for our region. We can no longer allow our leaders to escape responsibility for a problem by pointing the finger away and placing the blame on the ‘other’.

(Karim is the editor of Show Me The Rules)

Our stay in Morocco was short; around 9 months, leading us to our next destination that would host my teenage years: Saudi Arabia. Not speaking Arabic, or knowing anything about Arab culture is easy in Saudi. Living on a compound with foreign neighbors, as we did, does not give one a chance to interact much with Saudis in general. The shopkeepers were mostly from Pakistan or the Philippines, so English was always the most effective language to use anyway. However, I still felt like I was in the Middle East. My friends were mostly Arabs who had lived abroad, and during my 8 years there I developed a sincere passion for the different cultures of the Arab world. However, I still had not picked up Arabic, and towards the end of my stay in Saudi I began to feel a sense of importance in doing so. It was also towards the end of my stay that two big terrorist attacks on a compound I had recently moved away from and another one less than a kilometer away from where I lived took place. I won’t go into detail, but while it didn’t affect me directly, my view of the world had changed. I felt it was an important time to be in the Middle East. During my senior year in high school, I decided to apply to the American University in Cairo. I no longer wanted to be an outsider in a place I felt at home.

My next two years were spent in Egypt’s capital, where I developed my Arabic enough to hold an hour long conversation with any taxi driver (albeit with a slight American accent). Cairo, and to an extent the university, introduced me to the politics of the Middle East. I took a class with Saad Eddin Ibrahim on social movements; I attended lectures and speeches by intellectuals. My political views began to become clearer, and I realized I was a liberal. The term can mean many things in this largely conservative region, but I felt strongly that the present political situations were unacceptable. My time in Saudi helped develop a sense of what it meant to be Arab, and moving to had Egypt cemented it. It is out of this change in identity that I feel inspired to write about politics and reform in the region.

In the interest of not seeming too self-indulgent, I’ll wrap up this post. I live in the Netherlands now, where I’m earning a Bachelor’s degree in Communications and Sociology. I still feel like a Westernized Arab, or an Arabized Westerner, however I don’t see that as a bad thing. I feel like an outsider who can relate to those inside. Hopefully this will put some context into anything I may write in the future, or any views I take up on issues.

Greetings Mideast Youth!

(Karim is the editor of Show Me The Rules)