Contrasts of Istanbul
Just came back from a supershort trip of Istanbul, the cradle of Ottoman empire and some would say civilization more generally. Even more than Morocco or these other 'third world' places, Turkey is a place of bizzaire contrasts. I am sure the biggest is the the jutaxtaposition of the urban and the rural, but unfortunately I cannot attest to it since I parachuted into Istanbul on Sunday and left only 2 days later. Other contrasts stand out:the contrast of Turkey which is applying to the EU with the Turkey that throws its possibly most famous and only Nobel winning writer Orphan Palmuk in prison. The contrast between Turkey which is secular yet where the sound of muaddin's call for prayer prierces the air at the designated hours of the day, no different than it does in Cairo or in Rabat. The contrast of Turkey that is modern and educated with the population which does not generally speak foreign languages, except of the people in the services industry, which - on the contrary - seem to be able to bargain and sell in every language under the sun. The contrast of Turkey which embraces Muslim and Christians, and yet where the churches converted to mosques clearly show the direction of the current government and the fruitlessness of any papal visits. And finally, the contrast that summarizes everything about Turkey into one picture - the donkey cart with peasants amidst a sea of cars I saw in the next lane on the highway leading to the Kamal Attaturk airport. It is this agrarian image of Turkey's peasants, wrapped in layers of unrecognizable clothing and covered in a veil resembling more those famous red Russian scarves that does not seem reconcilable with its modern, fast, and seemingly developed centers like Ankara and Istanbul.
Saturday, December 16, 2006
Saturday, December 02, 2006
I think I am due for another update. After almost 2 years away from home, I have to admit its getting harder to keep in touch with everyone, so I hope you can find in your heart to forgive me for the mass email. I hope some good ole commercially induced christmas spirit can help you do just that. Here in Paris, the Christmas decorations are not fooling anyone, since outside its still 15 degrees and prices are also if anything higher, rather than lower than normal…but the shopping craze is starting to kick in nevertheless and there are people everywhere, except of course Sundays. For one musn’t forget, we are living in a country with deep catholic tradition, which in parallel prides itself on being non-religious. Actually, I think a good half of french politically motivated books are about this process of reconciling the secular state with its catholic history and more recently its growing muslim popuation. The whole banlieue story (burning cars, etc.) only added spark to the already raging fire. Only six lines into the email and I am already off on a tangent!
Suffice it to say that the mood is up in anticipation of christmas holidays, and I would probably join the shopping craze too if not for the fact that by the time I leave the office, I can kiss good bye the idea of buying anything since another one of france’s traditions – and this one I think purely cultural – goes something like this “one shall close shop by 8”. Unfortunately, despite the friendliness of the local folk and my general familiarity with all the local shops, my impression is that they are not going to change their ways anytime soon, and certainly not on my account. Actually, some shop owners are having a hard enough time understanding me during normal working hours, let alone later. I recently stopped by a local shop to get some sort of a french saussage, pointing to the thing and saying that I just want this orangy looking thing. The man of course immediately broke into the monologue about the type of the sausage that it is (blah blah blah) only to register pure indifference on my face. I was then forced to explain to him that this is actually for my very much meat eating boyfriend and that I actually don’t consume any dead animals. Well, although the expression on his face is rather difficult to put in words – it was equivalent to what I would imagine the expression of a priest when told that you don’t believe in god. I have to admit, I never tried to do that, but it should give you the idea…
Other than strange social encounters, my courage to dive into social coversations is growing, but not nearly sufficiently fast. This is despite my courageous - and I would even go as far as to say - stoic efforts to take classes after work which means never coming home before 9. I am sure on some level its paying off, and according to my professor, my vocabulaty is rather decent, but arriving to the point of getting the social lingo that is often not in the oxford dictionary is a whole different story. Trust me. This of course does not much faciliate social interactions, but at least I got to a level of mutual understanding or misunderstanding, and even I am even trying (and this is really a key word here) to plunge into some work related activities in french. I know this must be hillarious to most french speakers, but I am actually the most french speaking member of our team at the oecd, and thus I have the priviledge to work with the Maghreb countries which are entirely french speaking. It’s a strange beast colonialism, some countries revolt against it, others like Morocco embrace it. Maybe on some level, the Moroccans appreciate being independent and being governed by a decendant of the Prophet, but on the other hand, most of the government and business (i.e. anyone who knows how to read and write) are french speaking as much as they are arabic speaking. And proud of it. So, often times, not only do I found myself in unfamiliar places, but also in unfamiliar french speaking places. Depending on the moment, I tend to see it as hell or as paradise. All in all, it’s a love-hate relationship. It was a little more on the hate side when I was in the region during Ramadan, which implied going until iftar (Arabic for breaking fast – about 6pm) without food. I tried to sneak in some granola once as we we trying to catch a taxi, the driver stopped, shared his thoughts on eating during Ramadan, and then drove off (without taking us I must note). I thought of sharing that revealing my cultural affiliations, but on a second consideration I decided to keep it to myself.
Going to Rabat last week was a little better, for one I could eat, and also I reached the new height of delivering a presentation in french to a fairly big audience and not having tomatos thrown at me. Maybe its because they’ve had a drought for the last few weeks. I put up some pictures, but unfortunately not much since I was mostly stuck in the hilton (http://www.flickr.com/photos/tomamico/sets). Of course, we also wondered around in the local souk which reminds me a little of the walls of jerusalem on some level, since the souk is incapsulated in this round wall which multiple entries around its perimeter. Being in the souk is obviously very much a local experience in every sense of the word, and hence always interesting. Pity there is no way I can ever pass for a local and mingle in. In a way, the souk and the medina are not very local but also very telling historical places in these countries, unlike in europe where the monuments, the bridges, and the parliament buildings forumulate the history. Of course, the mosques (which I always confuse since they are typically called into hassan something or mohammed something) are beautiful, and maybe I would appreciate them even more if I was allowed to go in. In any case, I find that it in only in the souk where one can catch the local flavours, gauge the level of poverty, take a temperature on social cohesion, see the attitude toward foreigners. For me, the souk, and travelling by train are the two most interesting methods of really seeing these countries - which is basically the opposite of taking an official tour. The urban centers are always very polished (except for the souk), and you don’t really get the sense of a developing country reality until you take a train and see the makeshift bedonvile homes along the way amidst the newly build train stations build on EU or US aid. I could not help but wonder if it is the general religiousness of people that helps they deal with the reality of living under a plastic ‘roof’ and walls put together of scraps next to newly constructed blocks of flats and train stations. In a way, every one of us depressed western people could benefit from living the real life in one of these countries, I think it would make us a whole lot happier. But of course, the reality is that my stomach barely accepts the local 4 star hotel food, and even that with a pack of antibiotics.
As a result, I am always happy to find myself in a paris, even it can be rude to those unfamiliar with it. According to a friend, some japanese tourists even had to get evacuated ty the local embassy due to a shock of the local reality and seeing that not all parisians are stylish, skinny, rich and smell good. I suggested to her that the real shock may be due to the fact that they are not allowed to buy more than four items from the louis vuitton store. Joke alert: this is true, and they often try to avoid it by giving money to others with local passports who can get them an extra one thousand euro bag. I think I should quit my job at the oecd and bring those vuitton bags I see in millions in moroccan souks and sell them at a discount here to the japanese tourists. And since I cannot think of any ideas more creative, I am going to stop here.
Suffice it to say that the mood is up in anticipation of christmas holidays, and I would probably join the shopping craze too if not for the fact that by the time I leave the office, I can kiss good bye the idea of buying anything since another one of france’s traditions – and this one I think purely cultural – goes something like this “one shall close shop by 8”. Unfortunately, despite the friendliness of the local folk and my general familiarity with all the local shops, my impression is that they are not going to change their ways anytime soon, and certainly not on my account. Actually, some shop owners are having a hard enough time understanding me during normal working hours, let alone later. I recently stopped by a local shop to get some sort of a french saussage, pointing to the thing and saying that I just want this orangy looking thing. The man of course immediately broke into the monologue about the type of the sausage that it is (blah blah blah) only to register pure indifference on my face. I was then forced to explain to him that this is actually for my very much meat eating boyfriend and that I actually don’t consume any dead animals. Well, although the expression on his face is rather difficult to put in words – it was equivalent to what I would imagine the expression of a priest when told that you don’t believe in god. I have to admit, I never tried to do that, but it should give you the idea…
Other than strange social encounters, my courage to dive into social coversations is growing, but not nearly sufficiently fast. This is despite my courageous - and I would even go as far as to say - stoic efforts to take classes after work which means never coming home before 9. I am sure on some level its paying off, and according to my professor, my vocabulaty is rather decent, but arriving to the point of getting the social lingo that is often not in the oxford dictionary is a whole different story. Trust me. This of course does not much faciliate social interactions, but at least I got to a level of mutual understanding or misunderstanding, and even I am even trying (and this is really a key word here) to plunge into some work related activities in french. I know this must be hillarious to most french speakers, but I am actually the most french speaking member of our team at the oecd, and thus I have the priviledge to work with the Maghreb countries which are entirely french speaking. It’s a strange beast colonialism, some countries revolt against it, others like Morocco embrace it. Maybe on some level, the Moroccans appreciate being independent and being governed by a decendant of the Prophet, but on the other hand, most of the government and business (i.e. anyone who knows how to read and write) are french speaking as much as they are arabic speaking. And proud of it. So, often times, not only do I found myself in unfamiliar places, but also in unfamiliar french speaking places. Depending on the moment, I tend to see it as hell or as paradise. All in all, it’s a love-hate relationship. It was a little more on the hate side when I was in the region during Ramadan, which implied going until iftar (Arabic for breaking fast – about 6pm) without food. I tried to sneak in some granola once as we we trying to catch a taxi, the driver stopped, shared his thoughts on eating during Ramadan, and then drove off (without taking us I must note). I thought of sharing that revealing my cultural affiliations, but on a second consideration I decided to keep it to myself.
Going to Rabat last week was a little better, for one I could eat, and also I reached the new height of delivering a presentation in french to a fairly big audience and not having tomatos thrown at me. Maybe its because they’ve had a drought for the last few weeks. I put up some pictures, but unfortunately not much since I was mostly stuck in the hilton (http://www.flickr.com/photos/tomamico/sets). Of course, we also wondered around in the local souk which reminds me a little of the walls of jerusalem on some level, since the souk is incapsulated in this round wall which multiple entries around its perimeter. Being in the souk is obviously very much a local experience in every sense of the word, and hence always interesting. Pity there is no way I can ever pass for a local and mingle in. In a way, the souk and the medina are not very local but also very telling historical places in these countries, unlike in europe where the monuments, the bridges, and the parliament buildings forumulate the history. Of course, the mosques (which I always confuse since they are typically called into hassan something or mohammed something) are beautiful, and maybe I would appreciate them even more if I was allowed to go in. In any case, I find that it in only in the souk where one can catch the local flavours, gauge the level of poverty, take a temperature on social cohesion, see the attitude toward foreigners. For me, the souk, and travelling by train are the two most interesting methods of really seeing these countries - which is basically the opposite of taking an official tour. The urban centers are always very polished (except for the souk), and you don’t really get the sense of a developing country reality until you take a train and see the makeshift bedonvile homes along the way amidst the newly build train stations build on EU or US aid. I could not help but wonder if it is the general religiousness of people that helps they deal with the reality of living under a plastic ‘roof’ and walls put together of scraps next to newly constructed blocks of flats and train stations. In a way, every one of us depressed western people could benefit from living the real life in one of these countries, I think it would make us a whole lot happier. But of course, the reality is that my stomach barely accepts the local 4 star hotel food, and even that with a pack of antibiotics.
As a result, I am always happy to find myself in a paris, even it can be rude to those unfamiliar with it. According to a friend, some japanese tourists even had to get evacuated ty the local embassy due to a shock of the local reality and seeing that not all parisians are stylish, skinny, rich and smell good. I suggested to her that the real shock may be due to the fact that they are not allowed to buy more than four items from the louis vuitton store. Joke alert: this is true, and they often try to avoid it by giving money to others with local passports who can get them an extra one thousand euro bag. I think I should quit my job at the oecd and bring those vuitton bags I see in millions in moroccan souks and sell them at a discount here to the japanese tourists. And since I cannot think of any ideas more creative, I am going to stop here.
Friday, November 17, 2006
Sunday, November 05, 2006
paris inspired...
as the cold is setting into the streets of paris, it is still magical to see the sun reflecting of the grey roofs of the buildings, while sitting at a terrace of a cate with artificial heaters and pretending that it is still fall. there is only so much pretending I can do though since I no longer have to fight for a place in the sun. This, as much as the temperature outside, is an indicator of winter coming. It is so sad seeing those normally bubbling terraces empty or leaving the office in the dark every day. the shimmering eiffel tower always compensates. How I wish I had a camera that could capture the image the way i would like it to. this would be the greatest discovery of mankind! if becoming a real parisian means no longer noticing the tower, the appartment windows that light every night and the little ladies rushing to take their baguettes pas trop cuits than i hope i never become a vrai parisienne.
a bientot!
as the cold is setting into the streets of paris, it is still magical to see the sun reflecting of the grey roofs of the buildings, while sitting at a terrace of a cate with artificial heaters and pretending that it is still fall. there is only so much pretending I can do though since I no longer have to fight for a place in the sun. This, as much as the temperature outside, is an indicator of winter coming. It is so sad seeing those normally bubbling terraces empty or leaving the office in the dark every day. the shimmering eiffel tower always compensates. How I wish I had a camera that could capture the image the way i would like it to. this would be the greatest discovery of mankind! if becoming a real parisian means no longer noticing the tower, the appartment windows that light every night and the little ladies rushing to take their baguettes pas trop cuits than i hope i never become a vrai parisienne.
a bientot!
Sunday, October 22, 2006
so much security for such a small man. nicolas sarkozy may be small but he made himself resonate in the breathtakingly beautiful hall of sorbonne this weekend. he resembles a bulldog, once he bites into his victim, he does not let go easily. his speaches are full of rhetoric and stories of maghrebian ladies living in france's banlieus looking for protection. no doubt, they need it. as an outsider though, his statements seems obvious almost to the point of seeming too simple. once you get through the well structured responses and the colourful examples, and the jokes of course too-which he manages to still here and there in between the tirades - the ideas are obvious: immigration should be selective, work weeks should not be legally restricted to 35 hours, and france does not have space to absorb 900 million inhabitants of the african continent, although most of them would prefer france. The only thing that fails my comprehension is how can anyone in their sane mind argue against these principles. And it seems to be, as an outsider to this whole election drama, that perhaps these are not the ideas being opposed by the french opposition parties that are close to winning. Here of course, one has to exclude the likes of Marie Le Penn.
Watching this debate, I came to the perhaps odd conclusion that the contestants in for the french presidency are perhaps not really talking about the same issues - in france, perhaps it is not the opposition of ideas but their prioritisation that will or will not bring sarkozy to the throne. And a throne it is in france. Bon chance alors...
Watching this debate, I came to the perhaps odd conclusion that the contestants in for the french presidency are perhaps not really talking about the same issues - in france, perhaps it is not the opposition of ideas but their prioritisation that will or will not bring sarkozy to the throne. And a throne it is in france. Bon chance alors...
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
Sunday, October 15, 2006
A propos Hard Candy...
I think this movie came out a long time ago in the US and Canada, but just came to France. I was talked into seeing it and following is the essence of my review. I don't normally write comments about movies i see but here i think it was warranted.
my review:
if you are in the mood for some serious sadomasochism, and please take note of the word 'serious', this might be a movie for you. otherwise, i would advise to save the 2 hours of your life. trust me, even watching commercials of soap is more useful/interesting/exciting. somehow, the creators of this wonderful piece forgot to mention the word 'pedophelia' in its description. I am not sure how this is possible given that this is the point of the movie - well, it does not really have a point, but this is what this 'film' allegedly tries to explore (without, I might add coming to any conclusion or a hint of thereof). when you watch the preview for this chef d'oeuvre, it sets up an intrigue of older man meeting a younger girl of in the net. interesting. here is a preview of this the trailer omits: a crazed teenager trying to cut the testicles of an alleged offender for about half an hour. A Saturday night killer (and by that I mean your Saturday night). Actually, this movie can kill the mood of any evening. so just to sum up, if you are in the mood for some sadomasochism, you have found what you are looking for. otherwise, as I said, even soap commercials are better. at least they don't leave you nauseous.
I think this movie came out a long time ago in the US and Canada, but just came to France. I was talked into seeing it and following is the essence of my review. I don't normally write comments about movies i see but here i think it was warranted.
my review:
if you are in the mood for some serious sadomasochism, and please take note of the word 'serious', this might be a movie for you. otherwise, i would advise to save the 2 hours of your life. trust me, even watching commercials of soap is more useful/interesting/exciting. somehow, the creators of this wonderful piece forgot to mention the word 'pedophelia' in its description. I am not sure how this is possible given that this is the point of the movie - well, it does not really have a point, but this is what this 'film' allegedly tries to explore (without, I might add coming to any conclusion or a hint of thereof). when you watch the preview for this chef d'oeuvre, it sets up an intrigue of older man meeting a younger girl of in the net. interesting. here is a preview of this the trailer omits: a crazed teenager trying to cut the testicles of an alleged offender for about half an hour. A Saturday night killer (and by that I mean your Saturday night). Actually, this movie can kill the mood of any evening. so just to sum up, if you are in the mood for some sadomasochism, you have found what you are looking for. otherwise, as I said, even soap commercials are better. at least they don't leave you nauseous.
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Thursday, September 07, 2006
I guess I felt a sudden pang of nostalgia. By the way, Kundera has wrote a fabulous novel about nostalgia last year.
I cannot say that I am nostalgic for Toronto in particuar, but more nostalgic for the feeling of familiar. the shape in a way doesnt matter, its the structure that matters.
I miss buying flavoured coffee after getting of the metro in a semi-sleepy way
I miss having rasberry lemonade and one of these huge salads at Fresh on Queen Street
I miss listening to the radio, I never listen to it in france!
I miss re-runs of friends and sex and the city which I have seen a million times!
I miss the sitting in the sun between the four ugly towers on Wellington
I miss walking around incognito in sweatpants and with huge sunglasses on sat mornings at Eglinton
But, tomorrow I probably will be happy to face paris again and try to find something new, something that has changed in the little street which i take to go to work everyday.
If I was a patient, I would be diagnosed with a case of 'fleeing nostalgia'...
I cannot say that I am nostalgic for Toronto in particuar, but more nostalgic for the feeling of familiar. the shape in a way doesnt matter, its the structure that matters.
I miss buying flavoured coffee after getting of the metro in a semi-sleepy way
I miss having rasberry lemonade and one of these huge salads at Fresh on Queen Street
I miss listening to the radio, I never listen to it in france!
I miss re-runs of friends and sex and the city which I have seen a million times!
I miss the sitting in the sun between the four ugly towers on Wellington
I miss walking around incognito in sweatpants and with huge sunglasses on sat mornings at Eglinton
But, tomorrow I probably will be happy to face paris again and try to find something new, something that has changed in the little street which i take to go to work everyday.
If I was a patient, I would be diagnosed with a case of 'fleeing nostalgia'...
Monday, September 04, 2006
Ladies and gentlemen, some humour curtesy of Al Jazeera...surprising? yes! hillarious? definitely!
Why did rents go up in Ain el-Rummaneh district overlooking the southern suburbs? Because it has a sea view now!
Why are coquettish elderly Lebanese women very happy about the war? Because it took them back 30 years.
Early one day, a man rushes desperately to the dentist. "Please take out my bridge, or the Israelis will bomb it!"
After Saudi Arabia decided to donate half a billion dollars to rebuild Lebanon, Hosni Mubarak, the Egyptian president, ordered the capture of six Israeli soldiers at the border.
Amid a mass evacuation of foreign nationals from Lebanon, Palestinian refugees who have been stranded in Lebanon for nearly 60 years are ecstatic: The Palestinian Authority has decided to evacuate its nationals as well.
An Israeli recently arrives at London's Heathrow airport. As he fills out a form, the customs officer asks him: Occupation? The Israeli promptly replies: "No, just visiting!"
Why did rents go up in Ain el-Rummaneh district overlooking the southern suburbs? Because it has a sea view now!
Why are coquettish elderly Lebanese women very happy about the war? Because it took them back 30 years.
Early one day, a man rushes desperately to the dentist. "Please take out my bridge, or the Israelis will bomb it!"
After Saudi Arabia decided to donate half a billion dollars to rebuild Lebanon, Hosni Mubarak, the Egyptian president, ordered the capture of six Israeli soldiers at the border.
Amid a mass evacuation of foreign nationals from Lebanon, Palestinian refugees who have been stranded in Lebanon for nearly 60 years are ecstatic: The Palestinian Authority has decided to evacuate its nationals as well.
An Israeli recently arrives at London's Heathrow airport. As he fills out a form, the customs officer asks him: Occupation? The Israeli promptly replies: "No, just visiting!"
the word fascinating rarely sprints to my mind after watching a documentary - perhaps I am too harsh of a critic, perhaps it is always challenging to imagine what a truly fascinating documentary would be like. unlike a movie where the main elements of success such as camera work or depth of lead roles are generally agreed upon, there is a lack of even a basic consensus of what the purpose of a documentary should be. as a genre, documentary is similar to freestyle music, it is not considered prizeworthy because it obeys by established rules of cinematography but precisely because it does not. Is a stellar documentary one that claims to show 'reality' either fundamentally by changing or confirming our perception of it or one that, aka michae moore, does not pretend to be 'objective' - one that is truthful to its angle, or one can say its bias. being a sceptic that i am, i dont believe in bias free documentaries. or for anything else bias free for that matter.
preables aside, the CNN documentary in the footsteps of osama bin laden was nothing but excellent. not for its camera work, and not for the rarity of its perspective but simply for the fact that it showed one of the most sought after man of our times not as an enigma, eternally sought after and inaccessibe, but someone has been inaccessible to the international intelligence community only. from circles within the saudi regime, to insiders within multiple mulsim regimes ranging from africa's sudan to pakistan and afghanistan, osama bin laden has been openly operating until the end of 1990s. what's more, he has been frank with a number of journalists, western and muslim, in pursuit of his brilliantly executed media campaign. time and time again, he has given excusives to cnn and abc journalists, in fact it is almost surprising he has not gotten to the neo-con media like fox news a chance to convince its audience. i guess mr bin laden thought he would be preching to the converted and there he would probably be right again.
the documentary is also excellent because it does not show osama as a ideologically blind, but as rational.
Unlike the radical Egyptian clerics of Muslim Brotherhood of the likes of Qutb, by whom he has been allegidly influenced, Osama appear nothing like a rabid fanatic spewing hatred. On the contrary, it made me think that in the absence of context of 9/11, of khandahar, and pakistan, walking down the street, he would seem like a man of peace. And this brought me to wonder whether being ideologically defunct and radical can be reconciled with being rational. looking at osama's interviews with his cooly determined face and his almost smiling eyes certainly conveys an image of somene rather rational. a man who has put together a training manual for jihad and established vacation schemes for al qaida is as rationally calculated as it gets. he is not the sheikh bakhri, nor the mohmmed khomeini of our times. funny thing, could it be that in war as in business it is the same qualities that matter, the variable being the ideology. if so, osama could be a profitable businessman. by exploiting other's religious ideas, he achieves his own. substite some words here, and mr. bin laden is not so far from the western pursuit of logic as we would like to believe - could it just be the same equation with different variables?
preables aside, the CNN documentary in the footsteps of osama bin laden was nothing but excellent. not for its camera work, and not for the rarity of its perspective but simply for the fact that it showed one of the most sought after man of our times not as an enigma, eternally sought after and inaccessibe, but someone has been inaccessible to the international intelligence community only. from circles within the saudi regime, to insiders within multiple mulsim regimes ranging from africa's sudan to pakistan and afghanistan, osama bin laden has been openly operating until the end of 1990s. what's more, he has been frank with a number of journalists, western and muslim, in pursuit of his brilliantly executed media campaign. time and time again, he has given excusives to cnn and abc journalists, in fact it is almost surprising he has not gotten to the neo-con media like fox news a chance to convince its audience. i guess mr bin laden thought he would be preching to the converted and there he would probably be right again.
the documentary is also excellent because it does not show osama as a ideologically blind, but as rational.
Unlike the radical Egyptian clerics of Muslim Brotherhood of the likes of Qutb, by whom he has been allegidly influenced, Osama appear nothing like a rabid fanatic spewing hatred. On the contrary, it made me think that in the absence of context of 9/11, of khandahar, and pakistan, walking down the street, he would seem like a man of peace. And this brought me to wonder whether being ideologically defunct and radical can be reconciled with being rational. looking at osama's interviews with his cooly determined face and his almost smiling eyes certainly conveys an image of somene rather rational. a man who has put together a training manual for jihad and established vacation schemes for al qaida is as rationally calculated as it gets. he is not the sheikh bakhri, nor the mohmmed khomeini of our times. funny thing, could it be that in war as in business it is the same qualities that matter, the variable being the ideology. if so, osama could be a profitable businessman. by exploiting other's religious ideas, he achieves his own. substite some words here, and mr. bin laden is not so far from the western pursuit of logic as we would like to believe - could it just be the same equation with different variables?
Monday, August 07, 2006
A few interesting pieces about the logic of the Israeli-Lebanese war:
Profits of war, interview with Jonathan Nitzan (canadian radio)
http://bnarchives.yorku.ca/204/
Nasrallah's last speech (Al-Manar tv)
http://www.memri.org/bin/opener_latest.cgi?ID=SD123306
Yemen too has something to say about Lebanon (Al Jazeera)
http://www.memri.org/bin/opener_latest.cgi?ID=SD123106 .
Iran caught in its own lies - apparently even lying requires some intelligence!
http://www.memri.org/bin/opener_latest.cgi?ID=SD122806
Profits of war, interview with Jonathan Nitzan (canadian radio)
http://bnarchives.yorku.ca/204/
Nasrallah's last speech (Al-Manar tv)
http://www.memri.org/bin/opener_latest.cgi?ID=SD123306
Yemen too has something to say about Lebanon (Al Jazeera)
http://www.memri.org/bin/opener_latest.cgi?ID=SD123106 .
Iran caught in its own lies - apparently even lying requires some intelligence!
http://www.memri.org/bin/opener_latest.cgi?ID=SD122806
Thursday, August 03, 2006
Last week I saw a phenomenally touching film at the Institute du Monde Arab called Zozo about a lebanese kid who became an orphan during the lebanese civil war. the film was preceeded by a letter by the director who was supposed to present the film in paris, but who for obvious reasons could not come. the scenes of the civil war could not be more similar to the current war raging in lebanon. the impact on the civilian families does not seem to be any different either. as Zozo, a 10 year old kid, becomes an orphan and immigrates to denmark to live with his grandparents, i could not help but feel guilty - for all the lebanese kids who have become orphans and for all the human loss in lebanon. at the end, I almost felt guilty for israel's current war. it was just the following day that i realised why the IDF has caused so much damage in Beirut so far - the fact that hezbollah has been storing missiles within civilian appartments. the israeli government does a really lousy job of publicizing these fact, of making the world aware of the reasons for their actions. we should feel hurt for all the lebanese dying or being injured in this war, but with so little real information as to why these rocket attacks continue, we might end up feeling guity. after zozo, I certainly did.
for more comments on this film, you might want to see http://imdb.com/title/tt0448267/usercomments
for more comments on this film, you might want to see http://imdb.com/title/tt0448267/usercomments
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
So much media coverage of the Palestinian-Israeli conflict, of the Lebanese-Israeli conflict, so little quality analysis, so little perspective, so much bias. reading the news on al jazeera and jerusalem post are like reading about two separate conflicts. There is really no point going over the numbers, it is both true and sad that over 300 lebanese have been killed over the last weeks. it is equally true and sad that 1000 people have been murdered and more than 7000 injured by over the past four years of the palestinian intifadas on the israeli side.
perhaps in this conflict people are too focused on numbers, on the various humanitarian crises, the true and the imaginary. the issue is not with the numbers, but with the substantive questions. true, less isrealis have been killed over the incessant years of intifada than palestinians. this is besides the point. the key here is desire. if one people fears or thinks that the other would destroy them if they had the choice, they will react strongly, perhaps overreact. this is not an excuse but simply an obvious explanation of human nature. the programmes which showed palestinians and lebanese and iranians overjoyed at the death and capture of israelis show the strength of this desire, the extent of hatred. the same cannot be said of the other side. perhaps this is my bias, but i cannot imagine many israelis rejoicing if the same fate of met a palestinian or any other citisen of neighbouring arab states. it is this fact that the iranians, the syrians, the palestinians, some lebanese want the israelis (and in some cases the jewish people as a whole) disappeared that matters. it is the fact that if iran and hezbollah could make the katyushas reach precisely the hospitals, the schools or any other civilian infrastructure, they would not blink.
it must be admitted that israel has a more effective military. yes, the IDF can do much more damage than the katuyshas. that is not the issue for it is not the raw numbers that matter, but the intent. the issue of intent is in large part connected the arab media. people in the arab countries would be much better served if they media did not explicitely cater to further inflaming public opinion: for in the long term it does not make their lives any easier. the fact that saudi arabia, jordan, egypt and other gulf states have almost sided with israel on this matter is no negligible sign. perhaps there is a positive externality in some undemocratic tendencies of arab states. 'no' to muslim brotherhood in egypt also means the same to hezbollah in lebanon.
perhaps in this conflict people are too focused on numbers, on the various humanitarian crises, the true and the imaginary. the issue is not with the numbers, but with the substantive questions. true, less isrealis have been killed over the incessant years of intifada than palestinians. this is besides the point. the key here is desire. if one people fears or thinks that the other would destroy them if they had the choice, they will react strongly, perhaps overreact. this is not an excuse but simply an obvious explanation of human nature. the programmes which showed palestinians and lebanese and iranians overjoyed at the death and capture of israelis show the strength of this desire, the extent of hatred. the same cannot be said of the other side. perhaps this is my bias, but i cannot imagine many israelis rejoicing if the same fate of met a palestinian or any other citisen of neighbouring arab states. it is this fact that the iranians, the syrians, the palestinians, some lebanese want the israelis (and in some cases the jewish people as a whole) disappeared that matters. it is the fact that if iran and hezbollah could make the katyushas reach precisely the hospitals, the schools or any other civilian infrastructure, they would not blink.
it must be admitted that israel has a more effective military. yes, the IDF can do much more damage than the katuyshas. that is not the issue for it is not the raw numbers that matter, but the intent. the issue of intent is in large part connected the arab media. people in the arab countries would be much better served if they media did not explicitely cater to further inflaming public opinion: for in the long term it does not make their lives any easier. the fact that saudi arabia, jordan, egypt and other gulf states have almost sided with israel on this matter is no negligible sign. perhaps there is a positive externality in some undemocratic tendencies of arab states. 'no' to muslim brotherhood in egypt also means the same to hezbollah in lebanon.
Monday, July 10, 2006
I think it is almost a year that i read reports from baghdad where the journalist is questioning whether this latest bomb is indicative of a civil war in iraq. is this one particularly aweful in that it signals the slidding towards the beginning of an unstoppable conflict? does it signal of a new particularly violent stage?
i am not sure where i am being overly presumptious, but at the expense of being simplistic, is it not obvious as day that there is a civil war in Iraq, that it has been going on for quite some time, and the only obstacle to it becoming something on the scale of darfur in the military presence of the US?
As Clawson suggests in his latest article on the future of Iraw in MERIA, in all the possible scenarious on Iraq, no matter how positive, would put it at 2010 at minimum for the realistic beginning of a reconstruction process. He has a good point when he suggests that there cannot be a long term peace without both sides feeling that they cannot annihilate each other in the absence of international troops. i suppose this is very IR realism-like, but i can see a grain of truth with it. i dont see the south africa reconciliation commission style happening here.
i am not sure where i am being overly presumptious, but at the expense of being simplistic, is it not obvious as day that there is a civil war in Iraq, that it has been going on for quite some time, and the only obstacle to it becoming something on the scale of darfur in the military presence of the US?
As Clawson suggests in his latest article on the future of Iraw in MERIA, in all the possible scenarious on Iraq, no matter how positive, would put it at 2010 at minimum for the realistic beginning of a reconstruction process. He has a good point when he suggests that there cannot be a long term peace without both sides feeling that they cannot annihilate each other in the absence of international troops. i suppose this is very IR realism-like, but i can see a grain of truth with it. i dont see the south africa reconciliation commission style happening here.
Sunday, July 09, 2006
Reading 'the beatiful and the damned' makes me feel complexed. fitzgerald gives english the depth of french of russian, his words create a picture so nuanced as to be difficult to imagine at times. in a way its paradoxical, i have to re-read some lines, while others paint a picture so clear as to make it competitive with visual art. he makes me wonder what happened to contemporary literature, is language atrophying? is evolution of language like evolution of fashion? where are the fitzgeralds of our time? perhaps it is a naive question, but can language, much like fashion, go out of style? if so, i think we might be losing something worthwhile. i can't stop but think that perhaps all these trends, like simple lines in fashion, contemporary art trends (read: squares and circles, at times even overlapping!), 'modern' language is nothing but a elaborate cover-up for a lack of something to say, lack of skill, and maybe even a lack of emotion. looking at the exibit at the modern art museum of paris homme pare, i couldn't help but think that we've regressed. even the gian galianos of this world do not at times compare to the old school craftsmanship, unpretentious, elaborate, timeconsuming, unique. being honest with myself, i wish i could be fitzgerald rather than our contemporaries.
Sunday, June 25, 2006
On 'Identity' by Milan Kundera.
just came accross this one skimming aimelessly the shelves of this iconic place of worship of all english speakers in paris - the WHSmith. for me, this is the place of escape from the world of the ordinary...where depending on my mood, I get to select between an accessible (from the language point of view) french book or a substantial english one. this time I decidedly opted for the second, for the fear that my brain might otherwise just wither away. As always with Milan Kundera, I am not dissappointed.
I mentioned the book to a friend yesterday, she asked me what the it was about and I just didn't know where to begin. What is it about? Is it about a woman in the search of unconditional acceptance? is it about superficiality/critique of female desire to be n0ticed? is it about the meaning of friendship? i would be lying if i could propose an explanation on what is the main tenet of this short but fascinating piece, if he meant to have just one to exist at all.
for me, 'identity' was about the need and indeed the role of friendship - what function does it really serve? Kundera's clear suggestion, although surely unacceptable to many for obvious reasons, cannot be dismissed. in fact, i think he is pointedly correct in his interpretation and this is perhaps they part i would take away from the book. "friendship is indispensable to a man for the proper function of his memory. remembering our past, carrying it with us always, may be the necessary requirement for maintaining, as they say, the wholeness of self. to ensure that the self does not shrink, to see that it holds on to its volume, memories have to be watered like potted flowers, and the watering calls for regular contact with the witnesses of the past, with friends. they are our mirror, our memory, we ask nothing of them but that they polish the mirror from time to time so we can look at ourselves in it." is he right when he suggests that the value of pure, altruistic friendship has deteriorated because of a lack of 'great perils' and their replacement with the everyday greyness, minor annoyances with bucreacracy, money and our family? can it be true that the primary function of frienship on our times is to remember, to hold on to episodes, to be able to re- constitute a whole out of disconnected episodes?
just came accross this one skimming aimelessly the shelves of this iconic place of worship of all english speakers in paris - the WHSmith. for me, this is the place of escape from the world of the ordinary...where depending on my mood, I get to select between an accessible (from the language point of view) french book or a substantial english one. this time I decidedly opted for the second, for the fear that my brain might otherwise just wither away. As always with Milan Kundera, I am not dissappointed.
I mentioned the book to a friend yesterday, she asked me what the it was about and I just didn't know where to begin. What is it about? Is it about a woman in the search of unconditional acceptance? is it about superficiality/critique of female desire to be n0ticed? is it about the meaning of friendship? i would be lying if i could propose an explanation on what is the main tenet of this short but fascinating piece, if he meant to have just one to exist at all.
for me, 'identity' was about the need and indeed the role of friendship - what function does it really serve? Kundera's clear suggestion, although surely unacceptable to many for obvious reasons, cannot be dismissed. in fact, i think he is pointedly correct in his interpretation and this is perhaps they part i would take away from the book. "friendship is indispensable to a man for the proper function of his memory. remembering our past, carrying it with us always, may be the necessary requirement for maintaining, as they say, the wholeness of self. to ensure that the self does not shrink, to see that it holds on to its volume, memories have to be watered like potted flowers, and the watering calls for regular contact with the witnesses of the past, with friends. they are our mirror, our memory, we ask nothing of them but that they polish the mirror from time to time so we can look at ourselves in it." is he right when he suggests that the value of pure, altruistic friendship has deteriorated because of a lack of 'great perils' and their replacement with the everyday greyness, minor annoyances with bucreacracy, money and our family? can it be true that the primary function of frienship on our times is to remember, to hold on to episodes, to be able to re- constitute a whole out of disconnected episodes?
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