Who's Responsible for ISIS?

Think Progress and Juan Cole present a well informed, substantiated representation of most of my thoughts on Graeme Wood's article What ISIS Really Wants in the Atlantic.

Jerusha Tanner Lamptey
Professor of Islam and Ministry at Union Theological Seminary

By suggesting that Islam is ultimately beholden to specific literal readings of texts, Lamptey said Wood and other pundits inadvertently validate ISIS’s voice.
“[Wood’s position] confirms exactly what people like ISIS want people to think about them, which is that they are the only legitimate voice,” she said. “It echoes that rhetoric 100%. Yes, that is what ISIS says about themselves, but it is a different step to say ‘Yes, that is true about the Islamic tradition and all Muslims.’”

Nihad Awad
Executive Director of the Council on American-Islamic Relations

“Scholars who study Islam, authorities of Islamic jurisprudence, are telling ISIS that they are wrong, and Mr. Wood knows more than what they do, and he’s saying that ISIS is Islamic?” Awad said. “I don’t think Mr. Wood has the background or the scholarship to make that dangerous statement, that historically inaccurate statement...."

Mohammad Fadel
Associate Professor & Toronto Research Chair for the Law and Economics of Islamic Law at the University of Toronto

“Yes, [ISIS is] Islamic in that they use Islamic sources to justify all their actions,” Fadel said. “But I think the question that bothers most Muslims is the idea that just because someone says they are Muslim or that their actions are representative of Islam doesn’t make it so. Just because a group can appropriate Islamic sources and Islamic symbols, and then go around doing all sorts of awful things, doesn’t mean that they get to be the ones who define for the world what Islam means.”

I have much greater respect for Jerusha Lamptey and Juan Cole as experts on Islam and Iraq, respectively, than I have for the Middle Eastern Studies Department at Princeton, which is closely affiliated with the neo-cons who took us to war in Iraq under false/exaggerated pretenses. Wood, in contrast, leans heavily on Princeton's Bernard Haykel. I'm more trusting of the Edward Said school of Middle Eastern studies that Haykel dismisses as 'rooted in an “interfaith-Christian-nonsense tradition.”'

* * *

What I would add that I haven't seen in other articles about ISIS is that the actions of the West in Iraq, from colonialism to Iran Contra to sanctions to invasion and occupation, have created fertile ground for conservatism, fanaticism, retaliation and flat-out fury.

Since about the time that ISIS emerged, I have given myself an entirely amateur self-diagnosis of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). If it's an accurate self-diagnosis, mine is still only a mild, entirely manageable case. Still, coming to terms with my own trauma has changed my relationship to a long-held opinion of mine. I first formed my theory years ago in reference to the Palestinians, especially Gazans. Now I feel strongly that most of the Middle East, especially Iraq, Yemen, Lebanon, Syria and Palestine, suffers from the complications of several generations of moderate to severe trauma disorders.

In America, we've all learned since 2001 something about PTSD and how it effects our soldiers when they return home. Right now, PTSD is on trial in Texas in the so-called "American Sniper" case. But our soldiers get to come home. Our soldiers, to one degree or another, chose to enter the fight in the first place. What about the Iraqi kids who came of age during the Sunni Awakening, or the heyday of the Mahdi Army? What about their parents, who watched them die indiscriminately, as collateral damage in the conflict between Islamists and Coalition forces?

ISIL recruited them, but how much of a role did we play in making them recruit-able?

Sure, there are what Graeme Wood in another article calls the Psychopaths. I don't believe - and I don't think Wood believes - that their bloodthirsty enthusiasm for ISIS is really about religious conviction. If not this movement, I believe they would have found another, similarly bloody movement to join. In any case, Juan Cole makes a good case for their importance being exaggerated:

.01 percent of the community volunteered. They are often teens, some are on the lam from petty criminal charges, and many come back disillusioned. You could get 400 people to believe almost anything. It isn’t a significant statistic.

Al Qaeda, Abu Mas'ab Zarqawi, Salafi quietism, ISIL - all of these movements, self-styled resistance or liberation movements, were born at times when the United States and her allies were flexing their muscles in the Middle East. When do we turn from criticizing Islam to a serious critique of our own contributions to what's happening in the Arabian Peninsula?

People's Climate March

From Peoples Climate March

Manhattan, New York, NYC

I remember being dismayed at how small and sordid Occupy Wall Street seemed to me, when I first visited. Sarah L and I, who had weathered the Egyptian Revolution and its aftermath together, went down to see Zuccotti Park on the day Gaddafi was killed in Libya. I was high on revolution that day, with the fall of perhaps the most brutal dictator of the Arab Spring (Morsi and Sisi not yet in the picture). There was, I felt confident, a global groundswell rising. Omar Offendum's anthem #Syria rang in my head:

esh-sha3b

yuriid

isqaat an-niDHaam!

The people

united

will never be defeated!

I stood on the corner of Broadway with Sarah L, facing Zuccotti Park in silence, feeling my shoulders droop. A few hundred people standing around in white man dreadlocks and grunge, some bedraggled tents, signs leaning against trees, bits of rubbish on the ground. There was noise, but no energy. Not like Tahrir Square. We looked at each other, shrugged. "There's this great French place around here with amazing crepes," Sarah said, pulling out her smartphone.

Nearly a year later, OWS announced a march to reboot the movement, on May 1, the great socialist holiday of International Workers' Day. I expected the same desultory showing, but I was unemployed and at loose ends; I couldn't job search 24/7, and the exercise would be good for me. Some people from All Souls Unitarian Church and Fourth Universalist Church would be marching with Occupy Faith, so I decided to meet them at the Ghandi statue in Union Square.

Marching with All Souls' Asst Minister Lissa Anne Gundlach and Director of Religious Ed Taryn Strauss was different, immersive. We discussed the issues as we walked, photographed people's signs, and Taryn led us in "This Little Light of Mine." We shouted, "The people / united / will never be defeated," and people cheered us from fourth and fifth floor windows and fire escapes. It was a transformative experience that eventually led me to my job at All Souls, which came to include organizing with Lissa around the People's Climate March.

This was entirely different again because this time it did feel like a movement. I remember first hearing about the march back in May at a screening of Groundswell Rising at All Souls, an anti-fracking documentary. "350.org wants to top the biggest climate protest in history, 85,000 in Copenhagen. We're aiming for 100,000." I thought it was a pretty number but I didn't know how realistic it was.

Then I was attending a free summer concert in Prospect Park: Janelle Monae, the series opener. Young people were going up and down the long line of waiting concert-goers with quarter sheets of paper, encouraging the hipsters, rock fans, families and neighbors to the People's Climate March. "I've already got one. I'll be there," I said, but I wondered if that many people really cared about the climate, even in liberal New York, even so soon after Superstorm Sandy.

After we started talking about it at All Souls, though, I began to have hope that this really did move people. The Unitarian Universalist regional district was organizing homestays for UUs from across the country. There were dozens coming down from Vermont, a couple hundred traveling together by train from California. We were the second largest faith contingent at the march, behind only the Catholics!

From Peoples Climate March

We Will Not Go Back

March for Eric Garner

Staten Island, New York, USA

You may have heard various accounts of the march and rally organized by Rev. Al Sharpton and the family of Eric Garner. When the Racial Justice Initiative at All Souls decided to march, I went, too.

It wasn't that long ago that I was teaching in Canarsie, Brooklyn. All of my students were black, Latino, Caribbean Islanders, and other minority identities. Many lived in Brownsville, East New York, Canarsie, Flatbush and other designated high crime neighborhoods where police presence was strong and stop-and-frisk was a fact of life. Any one of my boys could have been Ramarley Graham. Many lived in low-income housing where armed NYPD are authorized to walk the halls of high rise buildings seeking out infractions. We didn't talk about it, but I knew that, statistically speaking, most of them had been stopped-and-frisked multiple times. They all distrusted the police.

Even at school, all students were subjected to full-body scanning each morning as they entered the building, and school safety officers in the hallways who are employees of the NYPD. Even excelling, well-behaved students were not exempt from these indignities. I know how insulted and degraded I feel taking my shoes and belt off for screening at the airport. As a white woman speaking in an educated register, I know that I will never be profiled and chosen for "random" additional inspections, even with 20 pages of Arabic in my passport. I could only imagine what it felt like for my students to know that they were subject to this treatment every day, in school and on the streets, regardless of their academic, athletic or other achievements.

For this and for so many other indignities to the inherent worth and dignity of people of color in this country, I marched. I listened to this group and that chant, bearing witness to their anger and needs. We carried signs from SEIU 1199, the health workers union of which Eric Garner's mother is a member and organizer.

Kelly was interviewed on camera about why a white person would march for black lives. In part she said that, as a school social worker, these are her children who are being stopped-and-frisked, profiled and harmed. She acquitted herself with exceeding grace, and made the cut for the evening news.

At the end of the march, there was a rally hosted by Rev. Al Sharpton and the extended family of Eric Garner. I was very impressed that every speaker began by thanking the NYPD for the graciousness with which they greeted and shepherded this march, and for the important service they do for our city. And then they all called for reform of the bad apples in the service, and for legal action against officers who take a life like Eric Garner's. Every member of Eric Garner's family spoke, and they all encouraged us to make our voices heard, but urged us to do so without violence. We also heard from city officials, religious leaders, the Nation of Islam, and my hero/girl-crush Debbie Almontaser of the Arab American Association of New York.

It was a powerful day. A beautiful day for a march, a powerful crowd to march with, an important message to tell.

And we all got our picture in the Village Voice online and on Facebook.

Living Our Values

I had the great good fortune to attend the Unitarian Universalist United Nations Office's 2014 Intergenerational Spring Seminar, organized around the recent passage of the United Nations Declaration of the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIP). It was an incredible experience you can read about in the article I wrote for the All Souls Beacon.

On the final morning, there was an opportunity to participate in a poetry slam, which is a fixture of many Unitarian Universalist (UU) youth conferences and events. I was not initially intending to participate, preferring to leave it to the youth. I have written perhaps 3 decent poems in my life, only 2 of them are in English, and I'm not much for performing my work. However, over the course of the seminar, I kept thinking about a poem I had written as a college student and once performed at an open mike at my UU fellowship in Maryland. Eventually, I signed myself up to perform it.

I wrote Wor(l)dpower as an English major's anthem back in 2003, a hymn to the proud history and broad etymology of the language. I saw English as encapsulating literally a whole world of diversity. Over the years, I've come to learn more about the legacy of European colonialism and the complicated nature of American neo-imperialism. As we learned more about UNDRIP and the problems of the Doctrine of Discovery, I began to understand my old poem with new ears. On that last night of the seminar, I was up till 2 a.m., pecking away at my little smartphone screen, refashioning it into the poem I would read that last morning:

WOR(L)DPOWER

I have the language of old white men,
Of ivy-ed dons and lords and kings
Ambitious, adventurous queens,
The psyche – and psychoses! – of an ancient patriarchy
In an unfinished, evolving Mother Tongue;

I speak the rhythms of Angle children
And sing a song of Saxon churls;
Mine the speech of Middle Earth
Twixt Grendel and a variable God;
The spoils of Vikings are mine
And the toils of Britons;

My father is a Norman,
Francois Vikingson,
My mother a Celt
With Germanic mother tongue;
Raised in Oxbridge
On perfect inflection
By Geoffrey
Johnson and
Julian
Milton;

Ours a language of adversity and adversary,
Of dominion and destruction, industry and capital,
The imprisoning web and the interdependent.

Behind my lips: Tragedies. Comedies.
the human experience,
Poetry and romance,
Illusion,
Persuasion,
Coercion,
Denial,
Destruction…
And a long, illustrious history
Of hope and concern,
Of optimism, wisdom;

My pen is poised to change the world,
For where there is progress,
Invention,
Intellect,
Creative determination,
Hopes & fears, losses and loves;
dreams…
There I am,
—There!—
I may speak;

Flawed and unbalanced,
Syncretic, adaptive,
Organic summation of my people’s history,
In thought and deed and family tree,
Prepared to learn and grow
Like dreamers and druids,
Professors and poets,
Warriors, politicians, wand’rers and essayists
Who are the roots and the trunk,
the branches and boughs
Supporting the flowers of culture, of hope, of memory and promise
Into the eternally returning
springtime
of humanity;

Mine is the language of unformed babes,
Still in the dust, in the womb, in the waters

Seven generations and seven more
Whose language dwells in houses
we cannot imagine
can only leave space for—
flexible, respectful—
In the language we’re living into today.

Cornel West: Whither America?

Unitarian Church of All Souls
Manhattan, NY, USA


We pulled out every chair in the building, and it was still standing-room only!

From Cornel West at All Souls

WIN!!

Harlem, New York, USA

Obama WINS!!

Reflecting Pool

Manhattan, New York

From 9/11 Memorial

I knew sooner or later that someone would come to visit me in New York who wanted to go to the 9/11 Memorial at Ground Zero, but I was in no hurry. I'm still furious about how all the goodwill the United States had in the aftermath of the attack was squandered, only for the tragedy to then be appropriated as an excuse to do terrible things in the world.

But I have to admit that it's a impressive, beautiful site. When the construction is finished and the square is open on all sides, it will be a beautiful place to, say, take a lunch break from your job in finance. It's crowded now, a pilgrimage site of sorts, but I can anticipate a time when it will just be a quiet oasis of trees, water and white noise in the bustle of downtown.

From 9/11 Memorial

UU Values in Action

Brooklyn, NY, USA

Do the values and principles of Unitarian Universalism inform how I live my life?

I've been thinking about this since May Day, when I marched with All Souls UU's Director of Religious Education, Taryn, and she asked me that very question. I think she asked in part because she was preparing the youth service in which the 9th graders in the Coming of Age class read to the congregation the credos they'd been working on since September, and because I generally say that I was "raised UU," because compared to most adult UUs I was. 

In fact, my family didn't actually discover UUsim till I was in middle school, though we're among those who would say we were always UU and just never knew there was a term or a community for that.  We became active, affiliated members of a UU congregation because we were already living the liberal religious and social values that the Unitarian Universalist Association affirms and promotes. Initially, that's what I told Taryn.

As our conversation continued, however, something amazing popped out of my mouth.  "You know," I said, "I think I probably study Arabic and the Islamic world because of the Neighboring Faiths curriculum we did in my middle school religious education."  That was the first year that my family attended UU services, and it made an indelible mark, so much so that I have come back twice and taught parts of that curriculum. So that got me thinking about other ways UUism has influenced the way I live my life.

In fact, I would say that "acceptance of one another and encouragement to spiritual growth" in any and all religious communities is a cornerstone of the way I lead my life. Since even before I considered myself a UU, I sought to learn and teach as much as possible about all world religions, with respect for the truth and value in all of them. I think that's what mothers in my Peace Corps village were seeing when they said to their daughters, "Do you see how Maryah dresses / behaves? She's a better Muslim than you are!"

• The inherent worth and dignity of every person;
• Justice, equity and compassion in human relations;
• The goal of world community with peace, liberty, and justice for all;

These are the foundational values for which I was a Rotary Youth Exchange Scholar and active ROTEX member, for which I was a Girl Scout camp counselor, for which I joined the Peace Corps, for which I taught refugees in Amman and Cairo, for which I became a NYC Teaching Fellow, because of which I couldn't keep my mouth shut and stay a NYCT Fellow, and for which I now teach immigrant women.

Those values and "the right of conscience and the use of the democratic process" are the reason I visited Tahrir Square every morning of the Egyptian Revolution and frequently thereafter, and then blogged and published my observations of what I observed. It's why I continue to avidly and empathetically follow the fight for democracy across the Arab world in the last two years.

"Respect for the interdependent web of all existence of which we are a part" is the one I wish I lived more consciously.  While I certainly live almost every day aware of the interdependence of human existence, I am less conscientious about my interdependence with the natural environment. I do more than some people, perhaps. I was raised to take what some call a "navy shower," turning off the water while I shampoo or soap up. I've given up Ziplocs and Saran Wrap in favor of reusable Tupperware, and try to remember to take my reusable shopping bags to the grocery store. I try to dress for the weather and rely less on heat and A/C. But I'm also addicted to my electronics with their high electricity needs, and to my hormone-injected beef and cheaper, more convenient non-organic produce.

Still and all, I've discovered over the last month or so that I really do live by the values and principles of my faith. The next question is this: Where can I take those values and principles from here? 

May Day NYC

Manhattan, NY, USA

From May Day NYC

When I first came to New York City, I told myself I wouldn't get involved with activism in my first year. I was teaching full time, going to graduate school at night, and the teaching alone was all the activism I needed in my life.

Then I left teaching and graduate school. For the first weeks of my unemployment, I moped and was miserable and sat at my computer all day long looking and applying for jobs ... any kind of job that seemed remotely related to my talents and would pay the bills. Over time, I became more and more involved with All Souls UU Church's young adults, for fun, networking and plain old human contact. Last week, I realized that even that was not enough.  I needed to get out more, to volunteer for something, to do more fun things with people. With lingering Socialist sympathies from all my years in Europe, and a life-long interest in civics, I asked around the church to see who was doing something for Occupy Wall Street's General Strike on May Day.

That's how I found myself on Union Square this afternoon with Occupy Faith. Their intention today was to bring a message of peaceful nonviolence and be witnesses to whatever might transpire. Several among them have previously been arrested and detained for their participation in a variety of Occupy-related demonstrations, while standing as examples of nonviolent civil disobedience. (I don't believe any of us were today, but apparently one never knows....)

In our march down Broadway to Zuccotti Park and Wall Street, we saw a lot of signs for a lot of different campaigns and issues. We sang songs and chanted. When we passed people watching from balconys and windows, we chanted, "Don't watch! Join us!" In the shopping district, we chanted, "Don't shop! Join us!" When construction workers and other union sorts paused their work to come out on the sidewalk and salute us, we cheered them on. It was a lot of fun. Here are some of my favorite images, with more in the WebAlbum:

From May Day NYC

America's Tahrir Moment? Well....

Manhattan, New York, USA

I woke up this morning to a call from my cousin Hannah.  She's helping to organize an Occupy Worcester movement, and wanted to know if I could translate their flier into Arabic for her. (No problem!)  I told her it was exciting to see people out in the streets, even if I wasn't sure what they were protesting for, exactly.  "I don't think it's as important what they're for," she said, "as that they're out there practicing direct democracy."

Perhaps that's why I dragged my feet this morning. The very idea of protesting for the sake of having a protest seemed so hollow to me, especially after my experiences of the last year with the Egyptian revolution. Before the April 6 and Khaled Said youth movements ever stepped out into the streets of Cairo, they had a definite plan of what they wanted and how they would get it. They studied with Velvet Revolutionary Vaclav Havel in the Czech Republic, and spent months deciding on their demands, their tactics, their slogans, even what they would chant in the streets was scripted in advance.

So when I got down to Zuccotti Park this afternoon, I was not impressed. After standing on Tahrir Square, shoulder to shoulder with several million Egyptians chanting "The regime must fall" and "Christian and Muslim, hand in hand," I guess my standards are unreasonably high. For me, though, the few hundred hippies, college students and veterans I saw with their cardboard boxes and dreadlocks were not as impressive as they'd been made out to be on the news.

If you add up all the protestors across the country, from Boston and Worcester to Oakland and San Fransisco, you probably have a substantial number. There's credence, too, to the stories I've heard on NPR comparing the Occupy Wall Street movement to the Tea Party. They're probably comparable in size and coherence given the number of months they've been protesting ... it's just that Occupy Wall Street made it into the national headlines within weeks of starting, and the Tea Party took months to garner national attention.

But who do they represent? Who are the 99%? I've spoken to a number of activists who work with impoverished communities of color in New York City and elsewhere, and they all voice the same frustration: The people of color who are really suffering from the failing economy are not able to "occupy Wall Street," can hardly even follow it on the news, because they're working three part-time, under-the-table jobs just to cobble together a meal every day. The people who are in Zuccotti Park may be unemployed, underemployed or frustrated with their circumstances, but they come from circumstances that allow them the luxury of coming to Zuccotti Park. This isn't Egypt, where the entire economy screeched to a halt because even the bodega owners and French fry friers were leaving their jobs to rally on Tahrir Square.

I am pleased to see the unions rallying to the cry. I saw striking Verizon workers in Zuccotti Park, and while they are fortunate to have the luxury to even be on strike, the issues that they're striking for are so similar to the Occupy Wall Street complaints that they have real legitimacy in my eyes. I was delighted that the United Federation of Teachers marched with Occupy Wall Street, because so many of our students and their parents are among the truly disenfranchised ... but here's my beef with them: Why would the UFT march on a Tuesday morning? I would have gladly marched with them, but ... I had to be at school, teaching!

So, yes, Hannah, it's important to practice direct democracy. And yes, to that guy at Occupy Boston who had the sign reading, "It's not that we're disorganized, it's just that America has so many problems!" But if this movement is going to have a real impact, it needs an agenda, a message, a unifying purpose. Within 3 days of occupying Tahrir Square, the Egyptian protestors had a list of 11 core demands, despite being a leaderless movement.  That doesn't mean that Egyptians only have 11 complaints about the way Mubarak and the National Democratic Party ran their country into the ground ... it just means they had a platform for their first steps.  Where are Occupy Wall Street's core demands?

Changed Everything

I woke up early this morning with the thought, "This is the Sunday I'm finally going to make it to All Souls UU Church and make some friends in NYC who aren't teachers." Then, I remembered that today was September 11th, and decided I didn't really want to get out of bed after all, let alone leave the house and have to face New York City in full mourning.

Maybe it's because I wasn't in New York on that day, wasn't even in the United States.
Maybe it's because of all the time I've spent in the Middle East since then and the collateral damage I've born witness to in that time.
Maybe it's because of all the harassment and difficulty my Muslim and "brown" friends across the country and the world have suffered in the interim.
Or maybe it's just because I was raised to be such a radical humanist.

I'm so tired of America putting on this big parade about how unfortunate we were to be attacked on 9/11. We've been attacked ONCE in SIXTY-FIVE years by foreign adversaries. How many nations around the world can say that? Or as my friend Ginny noted on Facebook today: 

9/11 death toll    =      2,819. 

US casualties in the wars that followed    =      6,686. 

non-US casualties in the wars that followed  =  148,000. 

It's not that I begrudge the families of the dead their mourning, their anger, their remembrance. They suffered. I would never deny them acknowledgement of that.

But I really struggle with the self-indulgence of people in Florida and California and Kansas and everywhere in between who think their lives have been irrevocably marked by what happened in New York, DC and Pennsylvania.  Did the bombing of Sarajevo change the world?  Did the fall of Mogadishu change the world?  Did the massacre on the Pearl Circle change the world?  Did the blockade of Gaza change the world?  And these are just the tragedies of the last 65 years that I can recall off the cuff.  How many hundreds more are there that we never even heard about?  It seems so arrogant to think 9/11 is so much more important.

But, of course, it's not arrogant. It's fact. 9/11 did change the world, starting a chain reaction of a magnitude we never could have imagined, which resulted directly or indirectly in massive deaths in Afghanistan and Iraq, civil war in Yemen, liberation in North Africa, increased oppression in Saudi Arabia and Bahrain, increased Kurdish autonomy, God-only-knows in Iran....

And maybe that's what makes me angry most of all ... that we have such overwhelming power to impose our judgements, our grief and our consequences on the rest of the world.

Palestinian Solidarity

Cairo, Egypt

Yesterday we received a message from the US Embassy in Cairo that included the following:

May 15 is the anniversary of the Palestinian-Israeli territorial demarcations and is considered to be a significant date in the current Palestinian political situation involving Gaza and the West Bank.

Several Egyptian political groups have announced plans to commemorate this anniversary by staging large-scale prayer and protest gatherings, characterizing Friday as Unity Day. On Friday after mid-day prayers, there are plans for a large demonstration in Tahrir Square, with a number of protesters planning to proceed to the Israeli Embassy near Cairo University and to the Israeli Ambassador’s residence in Maadi....

On Saturday, May 14, political activists plan to converge on Tahrir Square and begin a march toward Suez, where they will link with groups from other Egyptian cities and then continue their march toward the Rafah border crossing.

The embassy probably thought this rally - as opposed to the usual Friday protests - would be of particular interest to Americans in Cairo because it can be a very short couple steps from pro-Palestinian to anti-Israeli to anti-American. As Lara Logan knows well, it only takes one person shouting "Spy!" to make a whole crowd turn on you. It certainly gave me pause.

Fajr Prayers on Tahrir
I was woken up in the wee hours of this morning to the news that thousands had started a Facebook page since yesterday, planning to have pre-dawn prayers for Palestine on Tahrir Square, led by prominent Salafi sheikhs. Since it involved defying curfew, my friend didn't go, but video was on YouTube almost immediately showing at least a couple thousand praying

By the time I did go down to Tahrir Square today, it was the biggest crowds I've seen on Tahrir Square since mid-February, though I understand the crowds were as big on April 9th.

Mixed Messages
In light of the violence and church-burning on Wednesday, there had been a call to make today a rally for Egyptian unity between Christians and Muslims, and there were plenty of signs to that effect. However, calls for solidarity with Occupied Palestine largely drowned out pretty much everything else, and there were plenty of other causes, too.

"The people want the opening of the Rafah Crossing, permanently and completely."

"The people want peace and security,"
i.e. new faces in charge of the Egyptian security forces.

The flag of Bahrain on the left, and Syrian President Bashar al-Assad as Hitler.

This one's calling for reform of traffic laws!

...and many more!

"Egypt and Palestine, one hand."

Third Intifada?
What concerns me even more amid these protests and calls for a Third Intifada on Sunday, the 63rd anniversary of the first Palestinian refugee crisis, is the ambiguity about who is calling for these actions and why. Egyptians are calling for a Third Intifada in an excess of revolutionary zeal, and I have to admit to a wild hope that Palestinians might have their own success in the Arab Spring, but are Palestinians themselves calling for an uprising? If they are, I haven't heard.

In fact, a spokesman for Hamas said today that it was "not necessary" for Egyptians to come to Gaza. On the one hand, this could be a neat way of avoiding responsibility. On the other hand, though, Hamas has taken bold steps this month to form a coalition with Fatah and work politically and peacefully towards greater Palestinian unity. An Intifada now would undo everything that's been achieved in the last couple years.

(Thanks to Emma for the photos!)

Egyptian Sectarianism: How Bad Is It?

Cairo, Egypt

The Corniche is closed again in front of the Media Ministry because of protests, primarily by Egypt's minority Coptic Christians, in response to the worst sectarian violence in months that broke out few days ago in the working class Cairo neighborhood of Imbaba.

Word spread like wildfire in Imbaba that Abeer Talaat, a Christian woman, had converted to Islam, and when church officials found out, they had kidnapped her and held her prisoner. Angry mobs gathered, churches were burned, rocks were thrown, shots were fired, a dozen were killed, a couple hundred wounded, and all because of an unsubstantiated rumor. My colleague Andrew wrote about it in his blog immediately after, but more information is coming out every day about the incident and its causes.

I'm sorry to say, it's not an unprecedented occurrence in Egypt, but present circumstances make this particular case especially interesting and different in important ways.

History of Controversial Conversions

This image has been everywhere in Egypt in the last year. Her name is Camilla Shehata. She was born a Coptic Christian, but she famously converted to Islam last year, and was allegedly kidnapped and imprisoned in a monastery by the Coptic leadership. Hers is not the only story like this, but certainly the most famous face. During Ramadan last August, large protests were held by Islamist and/or Salafi groups outside the Husseini Mosque demanding Camilla's immediate release. They wanted her to go on state television and state personally and unequivocally her current religious preference, and to confirm or deny her incarceration by church officials. Although she posted a video on YouTube, it was not until the night of the Imbaba violence this week that she went live on television to tell her story. Throughout the intervening 9 months, the name Camilla Shehata has become a rallying cry for both Muslims and Christians, far beyond the significance of her individual story.

For Americans, it may be difficult to understand what the fuss is about. In present-day American culture is enshrined a very clear personal freedom of religious choice, and children turn away from their parents' religions all the time. In fact, for many, it's almost a right of passage. It can be a painful strain on family relationships, but it's not a matter of public scrutiny.

But imagine for a moment that you're a Native American in colonial or ante-bellum America, and your children are being lured and even kidnapped away by the government to schools where they are forced to perform the rituals and profess the beliefs of Christianity and forsake the rituals and beliefs of their ancestors. You're already a tiny minority population, and shrinking, in a society that's often hostile towards you, and where there is a blatant government policy to use religious conversion to obliterate your cultural uniqueness. How far will you go to preserve your religion, your individuality, your identity? The US Government has since apologized for what is now acknowledged to be cultural genocide, but it took America centuries to reach an uneasy compromise with the Native Nations among us.

Many Egyptian Christians feel that they are under the same kind of threat, while the Muslim protesters feel that they are bringing enlightenment to the damned. But then again, if it were merely a matter of religion, this would be a different story.

Flotsam of the Former Regime
Yesterday the Supreme Military Council announced further arrests in the case of the church burnings and violence in Imbaba. They have released information that at least one but perhaps dozens of the arrested individuals, both Copts and Muslims, were members of the former ruling party, the National Democratic Party (NDP), what's become known by a revival of an antiquated phrase faloul an-nizam [flotsam of the regime]. The man who first opened fire is allegedly the Coptic owner of a cafe next to the church. The assumption is that he did so to instigate some sort of sectarian conflict.

Rumors abound that former NDP members are trying to cause a fitna (sectarian civil war) between Muslims and Christians in Egypt, presumably in order to create the kind of chaos that could bring the NDP back to power. For years, former Pres. Mubarak used fear of sectarian violence, anti-Christian attacks, fundamentalist Islamist involvement and jihadi terrorism to hold on to power. "Support me," he told the West, "or have Muslim extremists ruling Egypt!" It seems that some remnants of the former regime are hoping that the same fears might bring them back to power again.

Ding, dong! The Warlord's Dead!

Cairo, Egypt

"I've never wished a man dead, but I have read some obituaries with great pleasure."

- Mark Twain

It's not that I'm happy Bin Laden the man is dead. I would have preferred a trial, public humiliation, and a long prison sentence in Guantanamo or some Saudi shit-hole of a prison ... but even as I write that I'm conflicted, because those words descend to a level of vindictiveness that I don't want to live by. In the words of Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr.'s Standing By the Side of Love:

The ultimate weakness of violence is that it is a descending spiral,

begetting the very thing it seeks to destroy.

Instead of diminishing evil, it multiplies it.

Through violence you may murder the liar,

but you cannot murder the lie, nor establish the truth.

Through violence you may murder the hater,

but you do not murder hate.

In fact, violence merely increases hate.

So it goes.

Returning violence for violence multiplies violence,

adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars.

Darkness cannot drive out darkness:

only light can do that.

Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.

(Thanks to Carter for the quote.)

No, mostly I'm happy that Bin Laden the symbol and the excuse is dead. I'm listening to Talk of the Nation's coverage of Bin Laden's death on NPR, and one of their Middle East correspondents was talking about how Arabs see this as an end to a decade of collective punishments of the Arabs and other Muslims for the actions of Bin Laden and a few other fanatics. Afghanistan, Iraq, Bagram, Abu Ghraib, Guantanamo Bay, extraordinary rendition, Pakistani drone attacks ... all of these look from the Middle East like punishment for 9/11, the USS Cole, the African embassy bombings, the first WTC bombing.... Now, finally, we've gotten rid of the man who, for the West, represents the deepest evil that Islam has to offer and too often blinds us to the great good that's present in Islam. True, Zawahiri and al-Masri are still out there, and hundreds of others bent on wreaking havoc on the West and Western installations in the East, but the biggest, baddest wolf is gone. It doesn't mean we automatically withdraw from Iraq and Afghanistan, close Guantanamo and put it all behind us, but it's a powerful step in the right direction.

At the same time, I think it's important to put this event into context. While Americans are making a big deal out of this attack, Arabs have other things on their minds. Hundreds are dying in Syria every day, and in Libya, standing up to mad, relentless dictators. The outlook for Yemen is not much better. Egypt and Tunisia are busy rebuilding - or, I should say, building - nations they can be proud of. Jordanians, Palestinians, Iraqis, Bahrainis, Saudis, Lebanese ... they're all busy with extremely important and emotional domestic issues.

Osama Bin Laden is barely relevant here anymore, and the single desperate act of a fruit vendor in Tunisia deserves more credit for that than a 10-year, trillions-of-dollars manhunt. The youth of the Arab Spring are disciples of Rev. King and Václav Havel of Czechoslovakia's Velvet Revolution, with whom some of the April 6 Youth studied nonviolent resistance techniques. Even when they were being attacked with horses and Molotov cocktails on Tahrir Square, Egyptian protesters were chanting "Peaceful! Peaceful!" to hold themselves and each other to a philosophy that rejects violence, even in retaliation for violence. Disciples of Osama Bin Laden still exist, but a much larger portion of Arab youth have found a far more powerful and effective means of expression.

Coptic Easter Mass

Cairo, Egypt

One of our program administrators invited a group of CASIC students to the man Coptic church in Giza with him this evening for Easter Mass. I love to visit services in other religions, and I'm collecting exotic Easters (at the Vatican with Pope John Paul II, on Mt. Nebo at sunrise), so I was quick to accept the invitation.

Like a traditional Greek Orthodox mass, it's a long affair, starting at 7pm and going till at least midnight (we lasted almost 3 hours), and people come and go throughout. Women sat on the right, men on the left. Some women wore veils draped symbolically over their heads, many of them embroidered with crosses or images of Jesus or the Virgin Mary, but as in modern Catholicism, covering one's hair has become optional.

I wish I had understood more, but most of the chanting was done in Coptic. Like modern Hebrew, Coptic is a language revived from old texts, the Rosetta Stone, and a lot of guesswork about its pronunciation and more mundane vocabulary that didn't make it into written form. I understood at one point from the text on TV screens around the sanctuary that they were praying for the martyrs of the January 25 Revolution and their families. The rest was pretty, but not particularly meaningful.

The Bible readings I definitely did recognize, because they were read in plain Arabic, and were about the Virgin and the Magdalene opening the tomb and finding Jesus' body gone, and then being spoken to by the ascended Jesus.

By far the most dramatic part was the blessing of the Host. The lights were turned off all across the sanctuary, and the curtains were drawn between the priest at the altar and the congregants in our pews. By that time, incense hung heavy in the air. There was a great deal of chanting and singing, and then a great crescendo as the curtains parted, the lights came up, torches were lit in the courtyard outside, and the Host was paraded with all its robed attendants 3 times around the entire sanctuary.

At one point, there was a good deal of commotion as a number of military personnel and men in suits were ushered in. During the sermon, also in Arabic, we learned that these were representatives of the Giza Governorate, the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces, the local division of State Security, and the Egyptian Army. The Army got resounding applause from the congregants. The sermon talked about Egyptian unity, and standing with our Muslim brothers, and honoring the sacrifices of the revolutionaries. Apparently we were at the most important church in Giza.

A Lawyer And Everything!

Cairo, Egypt

I've started going to the grocery around the corner more frequently. They carry fresh milk and most of my other staples, and they're open after dark unlike the supermarket I used to frequent. The cashier there is enchanted by an American who speaks Arabic as well as I do, and he always engages me in conversation.

Tonight he was very pleased to my attention the prosecution of former president Mubarak. "There's going to be a real trial, with a judge, and they've given him an attorney. They're giving him his human rights!" As if to say, after all the years he denied us our human rights, we're better people than that.

Then he said, getting serious, "You know, America talks all the time about human rights, but they don't really mean it, do they? As soon as they want something from a leader like Mubarak, there's no more talk of human rights." I agreed with him, and clearly that wasn't the response he was looking for. "Really? You know this?" Of course, I agreed, governments are inherently selfish institutions. "And Americans know this?" he wanted to know.

Of course, that's where the conversation gets tricky, isn't it? My friends and family know that America is not the paragon of democratic virtues it claims to be, that it operates both domestically and abroad in ways that don't always serve the rights and interests of the people effected. Jon Stewart's audience knows this, and those who listen to NPR and watch PBS and stream al-Jazeera. Unitarian Universalists know this, and MoveOn.org members know this, and Peace Corps Volunteers see this.

But do "Americans" know that their government, for its own self-interests, is propping up evil despots and oil barons and CIA stooges and oppressive states who are willing to torture for the US Government? How do I answer that question?

It begs another question, too, that's been on my mind for a couple weeks now. When I go back to America, how do I answer the inevitable questions about what "Egyptians" or "Jordanians" or, worse, "Arabs" and "Muslims" think about America, about democracy, about freedom, about terrorism, about revolution...? As if any of those terms represented a uniform monolithic entity that had one opinion about anything!

Meanwhile....
They've been chanting on Tahrir Square since last night. I don't know what they're chanting, but there are a lot of them, and they're very enthusiastic, not about to back down until they've got everything they demand.

Rewind, Play Again

Cairo, Egypt

Sometimes you have to take a step backwards to go forwards.

As I walked across Tahrir Square at noon today on my way to class, I felt like the clock had been wound back a month or more. Starting about two blocks back from Tahrir Square were roadblocks of cinderblocks, metal table frames, 4X4s and other "found items," as it were. They seemed to have been erected by the neighborhood watch committees, directing traffic away from Tahrir Square, because there were no police in sight.

Ahead of me on the edges of Tahrir Square, those roadblocks had been reinforced with concertina wire, making it hard to know whether they'd been set up by the protesters or the military.

I was a little hesitant to go forward, remembering Saturday morning's gunfire, but I'd decided to treat myself to a Hardees Jalapeno Chicken sandwich to break a 100-pound note, and I had my patriotic ribbon on my backpack, so I kept going. Unfortunately for me, Hardees had learned a hard lesson in the 25 Jan Revolution when all their windows and been smashed and the restaurant torn apart. When they rebuilt, they installed brand new metal shutters to pull down over their shop windows, and the place was buttoned up tight at noon today.

There were only a few hundred people there, mostly clustered near Talat Harb Street and the KFC (where I later found out they were painting a mural of the military attacking protesters) and out of my way across the square. There was no military or police in sight. It seemed pretty safe, so I strode across what had become, for all intents and purposes, a giant pedestrian plaza.

Vehicle burnt by protesters during bloody clashes with armed forces, Tahrir Square, 9 April, 2011.  Soldiers had forcibly dispersed protesters leaving two killed, 71 injured. (Al-Masry Al-Youm)

As I got to the Nile side of the square, I saw a couple burnt-out police transports, which took me straight back to the violent early days of the revolution. But typically enough for the spirit of the New Egypt, the scorched hulks had been put to good use. They were filled to the ceilings with plastic garbage bags full of detritus from the weekend's protests.

Between Tahrir Square and Kasr al-Aini Bridge, cars were parked bumper-to-bumper and people were trickling onto the square in fours and sixes and pairs.

An hour ago, when I came home from class, we skirted around Tahrir Square. I was feeling uncertain about what we might find on Tahrir Square now that schools are out and some businesses are beginning to close for the day. In the streets around the square, police were directing traffic away from the makeshift barriers extending a few blocks away from the square. I glimpsed tanks around the Interior Ministry, but I couldn't say that they haven't been there all along since 28 Jan.

From all directions, people were walking towards the square. It's going to be an interesting week.

Meanwhile, let me recommend some reading from Sandmonkey, who is emerging as one of the premier bloggers in Egypt, on 7 Popular Myths About the Revolution.

'Copters and Cops

Cairo, Egypt

Helicopters have been circling downtown all day today, and when the wind is right you can hear the cacophony of voices down the street on Tahrir Square.

I'm under the weather and haven't gone out to see for myself, but my German roommate says there's a bigger crowd than (the new) usual gathered on the square. They're protesting a hodgepodge of things on behalf of Egyptians and the greater so-called Arab Spring: against military control, in support of the budding Syrian revolution, against Gaddhafi, for the release of political prisoners, death to Israel, support for Palestine, against the Emergency Laws ... you name it.

Al-Jazeera English is reporting that the protesters are concentrating on a call for Mubarak and his cronies to be put on trial, and for the military to hand over power to a civilian council.

There's a rumor that there will be 1,300 officers coming sometime today to march against abuses by the State Security, with al-Jazeera reporting that any military personnel participating in today's protests will do so under threat of court martial.

Al-Masry al-Youm (Egypt Today), English Edition, is reporting that tens of thousands are marching on what they've dubbed the "Friday of Cleansing" and calling for a renewed groundswell of protests until the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces demonstrates a significant commitment to fulfilling the demands of the original January 25 Revolution.

My classmate Yasmine has posted pictures on Facebook from today's protests that include several banners from unions demanding a new Labor Union Law and more protection of their right to organize (take that, Teaparty!), independence and freedom of expression for the ancient and revered Islamic institution of al-Azhar University, independence of the judiciary, and more.

Some Fridays are like this. Sometimes there's a unifying cause like Muslim-Coptic unity following events of sectarian violence, or opposition to the constitutional amendments in the next day's referendum. Other Fridays, without specific events to focus their attention, people come to Tahrir Square on behalf of whatever cause is dear to them, or whatever slogans they think will make a splash. Today is one of the latter, except that the numbers seem to be unprecedented for this sort of a free-for-all Friday rally. As I've said before, they sometimes seem drunk with people power in the New Egypt.

As usual, when things get interesting again, I find myself wondering if they'll turn off the Internet again, but I think Egypt has learned its lesson there. As one protester put it, "When your government shuts down the Internet, shut down your government!"

ANNOUNCING TAHRIR DOCUMENTS

I'm pleased to share this press release for a project I and many of my CASIC colleagues have been participating in here in Cairo.

ANNOUNCING TAHRIR DOCUMENTS

We are pleased to announce the launch of Tahrir Documents, an ongoing project to archive and translate printed discourse from the 2011 Egyptian revolution and its aftermath. The website presents a diverse collection of materials — among them activist newspapers, personal essays, advertisements, missives, and party communications —- in complete English translation alongside reproductions of the Arabic-language originals. The site will be updated regularly, frequently, and indefinitely as new writings appear in response to post-revolution developments, and as we locate earlier materials.  

The assembled documents address a variety of contemporary concerns including Muslim-Christian relations, constitutional amendments, moral conduct, revolutionary strategy, and the women's rights movement. Some of the highlights of the collection:

• A defense of protestors' continued sit-in at Tahrir Square released on March 9th, the same day on which their encampment was destroyed by thugs
• Guidelines for personal behavior after the revolution
• Numerous denunciations of sectarian violence
• The announcement of new political parties and presidential candidates.
• Numerous articles debating the constitutional amendments passed last week  
• Selections from Gurnal and Revolutionary Egypt, activist newspapers founded after the revolution    

We invite you to examine the the website, and to return regularly as we post communications and commentaries from the post-Mubarak era. We believe the archive indicative of the diversity of political thought and action in contemporary Egypt, and hope that this diversity is of interest to anyone following the country's transforming situation. The archive is searchable. 

Tahrir Documents is the work of volunteer translators in Egypt and abroad. It is not affiliated with any of those authors or groups whose works appear in translation on the website, nor with any organization foreign or domestic.

For more information please write to the editorial board at tahrirdocuments@gmail.com. We invite the submission of materials for translation and publication on the website.

Regards,

The Editors and Staff of Tahrir Documents

 www.tahrirdocuments.org / tahrirdocuments@gmail.com / twitter.com/tahrirdocuments

A Little Further Up the Rift Valley....

Cairo, Egypt

After reviewing an essay assignment for which I assessed the effects of geography on Jordan's economy, my professor asked me why I thought there hadn't been widespread protests in Jordan. Naturally, I was all to happy to explicate. In fact, it's a question I've discussed before in the last month, and I thought I'd share a few thoughts on the matter.

I think it's obvious to most Jordanians, both in the cities and the villages, both the educated elite and the less educated middle and lower classes, that reform actually is happening in Jordan at a fairly rapid pace, and that the king is the primary impetus behind it. They may have their critiques about what the king pushes, how and why, but they can see positive change happening from year to year.

Since King Abdullah II came into power, there have been drastic ongoing improvements in education at all levels, with a focus on an IT economy, and Jordanian Internet entrepreneurs have been among the most successful in the Arab world. The national debt has decreased, the salaries of teachers have more than doubled in the last two years, tourism and medical tourism have steadily increased despite regional instability, and many other factors of economic health have shown obvious evidence of improvement. Freedom of expression continues to expand, and Jordanian bloggers are award-winning. There has also been significant development in infrastructure.

In addition, King Abdullah II has demonstrated repeatedly that he listens to the concerns of his people, and acts decisively to address those concerns whenever possible. I don't know anyone in Jordan who really believes that a significant segment of Jordanians have any intention of being rid of the king that has done so well by them.

I think it is also worth noting that in a kingdom with relatively low oppression, like Jordan and Morocco, it is neither a surprise nor an imposition when the son of that king is next in line to lead the country. The effect of Presidents Ben Ali in Tunisia, Mubarak in Egypt, Gaddhafi in Libya and Saleh in Yemen all conspiring to put their sons in the presidency after them should not be underestimated in determining the reasons for their respective ousters and attempted ousters.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch....
When I arrived at St. Andrews to teach my Arabic class for Somali refugees, the education coordinator said to me, "So the Interior Ministry's burning down, is it?"
"What?" I asked. "That's two blocks from my apartment, and I've just come from there! How could I not have noticed?" If I'd known, I might not have left home for fear that my road would be blocked off when I came home.
So we turned to the local paper's Website and found this stunning image. Apparently Interior Ministry employees were also protesting downtown today, and I had no idea, holed up taking classes and doing homework in the AUC dorms in cozy Zamalek - an island in more ways than one!