Thoughts on the end of 2008
Now, to close the page on this year, I bet anything, dear friends, that you expect me to reminisce - in my usual long-winded tradition - about all the landmark events of this year. I bet you would expect me to speak of the war in Aghanistan, the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, or some other rather depressing coming from the Middle East these days. Or, you would expect me to pitch in on the financial crisis, how it has knocked on the door of France - the failing banks, the layoffs, the faltering consumer confidence. I am afraid you might be deceived since I intend to do no such thing. Really.
This year, I decided to close this year with some humour, since I suspect we might all need it for next year. And as I look around me in France, I hardly find anything sufficiently funny to talk about - well, yes, there is Sarkosy, but that one has been picked on this year to the point that even I feel bad for him! Not so far away though, in Italy, the local authorities seem to have a much sharper sense of humour. How about the following for a holiday riddle?
Do you know what homeless people in Milan are having this holiday season? No, not nothing - common, I am not so cruel to make fun of hungry people! No, not soup and croutons, not chocolate cake, not meat roast - wrong, wrong, wrong! They will be having caviar. Yes, that's right - it is not a typo - they will be having caviar, not the artificially produced, but the real kind, all that curtesy of the local mafia. To be precise, it is not the mafia that experienced a bout of sudden generosity towards the homeless (on the latter, I suggest you see a brilliant film Gomorra that came out this year), but the Milanese police (not, that is not a type of pizza). Apparently, the Milanese police has crecently confiscated loads of illegal caviar in Italy and decided to give it away for holidays!
Lesson to be learned: next time you think of your holiday destination, I suggest you give serious consideration to Italy. After all who knows what else can the Italian police confiscate from the local mafia?
Happy 2009! For more of the same, and some of not the same, please keep visiting!
Monday, December 29, 2008
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Political slogans across the Atlantic
What can be in can be in common between the politics in the United States and continental Europe, especially France, which many Americans regard as a bastion of socialism? After all, when France is evoked as an example of a country where social services actually provide (more or less) universal healthcare, this very idea results in revolt among many in conservative circles in the United States.
This should be convincing evidence that the average intelligence of the electorate, whether in France or in the United States, is sufficiently low, as to buy this sort of rhetoric! And that the rhetoric is aimed at Joe the Plumber! And for the rest of us outside the plumbing profession, I am afraid, we'll have to look beyond the political discourse to understand what we are about to get ourselves into.
What can be in can be in common between the politics in the United States and continental Europe, especially France, which many Americans regard as a bastion of socialism? After all, when France is evoked as an example of a country where social services actually provide (more or less) universal healthcare, this very idea results in revolt among many in conservative circles in the United States.
Well, judging from the rhetoric of our own hyperactive Sarkosy and president-elect Obama, more than one can imagine. It seeems that no one picked up on the similarities between the two presidental compaigns. The famous 'yes, we can!' has of course made rounds worldwide, even in France, where I doubt there are still many, politically aware or not, who are still not aware of the Obama's winning phrase. Of course, whether or not it was really Obama's is subject to debate - see for instance, http://www.politico.com/blogs/bensmith/0208/Yes_we_can_reuse_slogans.html.
That whole debate aside, did no one notice the apparent similarity between the 'yes we can!' and the 'ensemble tout est possible!' which, for those of you not french speakers (shame on you!) translates to 'together, everything is possible'! Now, in general, living in France, one has to note that the level of political awareness and political debate in France is much higher than in the United States, where sometimes it is difficult to separate the prayers from the political campaigning, where the preachers and the 'god help america!' is inseparable from the actual campaigning. In France, while Sarkosy has to some extent breached the norm of divorcing politicians' behaviour from the spehere of religion, thank god, there are no references to god in french presidential campaigning, neither on the right, nor on the left. no god is blessing france, and living here, I am quite content that our economic planning does not involve any religious hopes.
Given such great dissimilarities between the political discourse in the two countries, could the 'yes, we can!' and 'ensemble, tout est possible!' be some sort of a bizairre and meaningless coincidence? After all, there seems to be little contact between Obama and Sarkosy, the latter apparently getting snubbed by Obama on the occasion of the latest G20 meeting. (how dare he!) Not so fast.
First of all, let's see who the slogans apply to. In the US, it was the almightly Joe the Plumber, who has made rounds in local press, both by Conservatives and Democrats, to the point of almost becoming a family member of every US household. What about in France? Surely, the political elites in Frances would not build their political discourse on plumbers? Well, maybe it was not a plumber-figure that lit up the imagination of the French during the election, but - quand même - it was 'la france qui se leve tôt', literally translated 'the france that gets up early'. And just to clarify something, this is no accidental choice, since in france, no one in professional classes gets up early (working day starts about an hour later that in the US, and not because of time difference!) So, maybe we were not obsessed with plumbers, but the plumbers would certainly be part of this france which gets up early. Which, by the way, explains why I am not a plumber...
And if you are still unconvinced by the parallel, I suggest you refer to the following?
http://voiceswithoutvotes.org/2008/12/03/france-from-yes-we-can-to-yes-you-mustThat whole debate aside, did no one notice the apparent similarity between the 'yes we can!' and the 'ensemble tout est possible!' which, for those of you not french speakers (shame on you!) translates to 'together, everything is possible'! Now, in general, living in France, one has to note that the level of political awareness and political debate in France is much higher than in the United States, where sometimes it is difficult to separate the prayers from the political campaigning, where the preachers and the 'god help america!' is inseparable from the actual campaigning. In France, while Sarkosy has to some extent breached the norm of divorcing politicians' behaviour from the spehere of religion, thank god, there are no references to god in french presidential campaigning, neither on the right, nor on the left. no god is blessing france, and living here, I am quite content that our economic planning does not involve any religious hopes.
Given such great dissimilarities between the political discourse in the two countries, could the 'yes, we can!' and 'ensemble, tout est possible!' be some sort of a bizairre and meaningless coincidence? After all, there seems to be little contact between Obama and Sarkosy, the latter apparently getting snubbed by Obama on the occasion of the latest G20 meeting. (how dare he!) Not so fast.
First of all, let's see who the slogans apply to. In the US, it was the almightly Joe the Plumber, who has made rounds in local press, both by Conservatives and Democrats, to the point of almost becoming a family member of every US household. What about in France? Surely, the political elites in Frances would not build their political discourse on plumbers? Well, maybe it was not a plumber-figure that lit up the imagination of the French during the election, but - quand même - it was 'la france qui se leve tôt', literally translated 'the france that gets up early'. And just to clarify something, this is no accidental choice, since in france, no one in professional classes gets up early (working day starts about an hour later that in the US, and not because of time difference!) So, maybe we were not obsessed with plumbers, but the plumbers would certainly be part of this france which gets up early. Which, by the way, explains why I am not a plumber...
And if you are still unconvinced by the parallel, I suggest you refer to the following?
This should be convincing evidence that the average intelligence of the electorate, whether in France or in the United States, is sufficiently low, as to buy this sort of rhetoric! And that the rhetoric is aimed at Joe the Plumber! And for the rest of us outside the plumbing profession, I am afraid, we'll have to look beyond the political discourse to understand what we are about to get ourselves into.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Bombings in Mumbai: reactions on Al Jazeera
There is a certain level of irony in watching news on the Mumbai bombings from a hotel room in Morocco, which has been subject of the same type of attacks over the years, thankfully not recently. Suddenly, I had the surreal feeling of being lucky despite the otherwise unexciting trip - the first time I have been to Morocco without the wonderfully warm, yet not burning winter sun. Lucky that this multi-pronged monster did not surge in Morocco, lucky that colleagues that have just come back from Mumbai and stayed in the same hotels travelled a week before, lucky that my witnessing these horrible events is from a five start hotel room, through the lens of CNN or BBC rather that as an eyewitness.
As Mumbai's surreal three-day siege started to come to their gruesome conclusion, it emerged that outside the Oberoi and the Taj hotels and other tourist targets, another geographically and physically smaller target was hit - the Nariman house (a jewish community center). While the Nariman house may have contained less people, the symbolism behind this target is not insignificant, depsite the ongoing debate on whether it was an accidental victim or a targeted cite or the violence. As far as it known now (two days after the fighting has ended), five people lost their lives at the Nariman house, among whom the rabbi and his wife, who apparently came to India a few yeras ago to teach courses on judaism in the relatively tiny jewish population of india.
Al Jazeera, with its increasingly professional and (ahem - British) staff has decided to join the chorus of voices speaking of the Mumbai tragedy, bringing on the show a surprising guest - the ambassador of Israel (though interestingly, to the US and not India!) Usually, AJ selects the least presentable Israeli counterparts pitting them against a loudly protesting professor from Al Ahram or another such institution, ensuring that the Israeli interlockutor looks incompetent. This time, this was not the case and the ambassador was allowed to answer questions posed to him. It all started rather amicably. And then came the usual: "do you think this is a reaction to israeli behaviour in the palestinian occupied territories?". This was followed up by insistent repeating of this question by the interviewer when Shallai Meridor (the Israeli ambassador) said he saw no connection between the Israeli-PLO relations and the attacks in Mumbai.
Granted, every channel, obviously including Al Jazeera, has its bias, but where is the logic in linking every issue concerning jewish interests around the world to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict? For the moment, not much is known about the attackers of the Nairman house. One of the attackers detained by the Indian police is a 23 year old Pakistani citizen, with fourth grade education. I don't know about you, but I didn't realise that the curriculum of Pakistani madrassas included much content on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. His fourth grade educations allows one to be reasonably sceptical of his understanding of the roots of the conflict. It's also rather improbable that he has been to Israel or Palestine, if only for the tough Israeli security.
This leaves one option on the table - propaganda. Propaganda that attackers have been exposed to in their four years of 'education'. Of course, propaganda is everywhere, in every educational institution or media outlet, and certainly not only in Pakistan. It becomes more alarming however when a rabbi and his wife get killed for their supposed zionism (note to the attackers: many haredi do not believe in the state of israel despite having an israeli passport), or perhaps for their carrying an israeli passport, or for their teaching of judaism, or for their being jewish?
Though in many circles and debates divisions are being created to justify opposing Israeli interests, with various distictions between Israelis/zionists/jews being played to justify some oppostion which is allegedly not anti-semitic. Some, like Kamal Al-Hilbawi, director of the London Center for the Study of Terrorism, interviewed on BBC arabic just a few days ago, argued that attacking Israeli children is legitimate since they will eventlually become soldiers (note to Mr. Al-Hilbawi: an increasing proportion of Israelis is opting out of the army). That being said, most of those who oppose Israel or its citizens, including the Iranian president, are more selective in their critique, at least in public. What is puzzling though, is that Jewish targets continue to be attacked throughout the world not even based a single, but on multiple pre-texts: for the Jewish nature, for their Israeli nature, for their Zionist nature, etc. This 'terminological confusion' sheds some legitimate doubts on the attack on the Nairman house being accidental in nature...
There is a certain level of irony in watching news on the Mumbai bombings from a hotel room in Morocco, which has been subject of the same type of attacks over the years, thankfully not recently. Suddenly, I had the surreal feeling of being lucky despite the otherwise unexciting trip - the first time I have been to Morocco without the wonderfully warm, yet not burning winter sun. Lucky that this multi-pronged monster did not surge in Morocco, lucky that colleagues that have just come back from Mumbai and stayed in the same hotels travelled a week before, lucky that my witnessing these horrible events is from a five start hotel room, through the lens of CNN or BBC rather that as an eyewitness.
As Mumbai's surreal three-day siege started to come to their gruesome conclusion, it emerged that outside the Oberoi and the Taj hotels and other tourist targets, another geographically and physically smaller target was hit - the Nariman house (a jewish community center). While the Nariman house may have contained less people, the symbolism behind this target is not insignificant, depsite the ongoing debate on whether it was an accidental victim or a targeted cite or the violence. As far as it known now (two days after the fighting has ended), five people lost their lives at the Nariman house, among whom the rabbi and his wife, who apparently came to India a few yeras ago to teach courses on judaism in the relatively tiny jewish population of india.
Al Jazeera, with its increasingly professional and (ahem - British) staff has decided to join the chorus of voices speaking of the Mumbai tragedy, bringing on the show a surprising guest - the ambassador of Israel (though interestingly, to the US and not India!) Usually, AJ selects the least presentable Israeli counterparts pitting them against a loudly protesting professor from Al Ahram or another such institution, ensuring that the Israeli interlockutor looks incompetent. This time, this was not the case and the ambassador was allowed to answer questions posed to him. It all started rather amicably. And then came the usual: "do you think this is a reaction to israeli behaviour in the palestinian occupied territories?". This was followed up by insistent repeating of this question by the interviewer when Shallai Meridor (the Israeli ambassador) said he saw no connection between the Israeli-PLO relations and the attacks in Mumbai.
Granted, every channel, obviously including Al Jazeera, has its bias, but where is the logic in linking every issue concerning jewish interests around the world to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict? For the moment, not much is known about the attackers of the Nairman house. One of the attackers detained by the Indian police is a 23 year old Pakistani citizen, with fourth grade education. I don't know about you, but I didn't realise that the curriculum of Pakistani madrassas included much content on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. His fourth grade educations allows one to be reasonably sceptical of his understanding of the roots of the conflict. It's also rather improbable that he has been to Israel or Palestine, if only for the tough Israeli security.
This leaves one option on the table - propaganda. Propaganda that attackers have been exposed to in their four years of 'education'. Of course, propaganda is everywhere, in every educational institution or media outlet, and certainly not only in Pakistan. It becomes more alarming however when a rabbi and his wife get killed for their supposed zionism (note to the attackers: many haredi do not believe in the state of israel despite having an israeli passport), or perhaps for their carrying an israeli passport, or for their teaching of judaism, or for their being jewish?
Though in many circles and debates divisions are being created to justify opposing Israeli interests, with various distictions between Israelis/zionists/jews being played to justify some oppostion which is allegedly not anti-semitic. Some, like Kamal Al-Hilbawi, director of the London Center for the Study of Terrorism, interviewed on BBC arabic just a few days ago, argued that attacking Israeli children is legitimate since they will eventlually become soldiers (note to Mr. Al-Hilbawi: an increasing proportion of Israelis is opting out of the army). That being said, most of those who oppose Israel or its citizens, including the Iranian president, are more selective in their critique, at least in public. What is puzzling though, is that Jewish targets continue to be attacked throughout the world not even based a single, but on multiple pre-texts: for the Jewish nature, for their Israeli nature, for their Zionist nature, etc. This 'terminological confusion' sheds some legitimate doubts on the attack on the Nairman house being accidental in nature...
Monday, November 03, 2008
Impressions of a local foreigner
When I undertake my annual transatlantic haul, I am all too content to finally get on the board of the plane, with or without dinner service, with or without 150 kg neighbours (as long as I am not in between!), with or without the window seat – simply because the procedures in France (and particularly flying out of Charles de Gaulle) is one’s worst nightmare, with no exaggeration. First, the airport which is located in the middle of timbucktwo and is naturally rather unconnected from the rest of the city. Add to this the check-in procedures and the security procedures the apparent objective of which is to prevent you from getting on that plane, without making you lose faith – at least until the last minute – that you will succeed in your mission to finally get to row x, seat y. Whoever directed 'Mission impossible' should have made it take place at Charle de Gaulle. Perfect setting. Consider the following scene:
Me (to the check in counter lady): Sorry I cannot lift up my suitcase to put in on the scale.
Her: yes, well…too bad
Me: (hinting that she might help me – an idea totally lost on her): is there not anyone that can help?
Her: you are funny, madame.
Now, I accept that sometimes I might be funny and normally would take it as a compliment, but somehow not under the circumstances.
Having succeeded to register, then there is the take-everything-off and throw-everything-out-ritual, and the start-your laptop-ritual (which naturally forces me to re-pack my suitcase while I am standing shoe-less and my purse has gone into the open on their lovely conveyor line). In essence, the familiar airport deal, just with no service but lots of attitude. I am trying to stay amused, but while I may well be amusing THEM, I am not finding this amusing at all.
On the return trip, leaving the immense Toronto Pearson which I am guessing was built on projections of it becoming the next JFK, I am thinking “this place is paradise on earth”. For me, the Toronto Pearson is like any decent Canadian house compared to the size of my French apartment – unusably large. This, coupled with its virtual emptiness, ease of passage and generally friendly employees – makes coming back to Charle de Gaulle a repeat of a nightmare for which I need serious psychological help. And yet, aside from all the logistics of it, I am normally happy to return to my status of a permanent foreigner in France, in return for my status as a temporary foreigner in Canada.
The first few trips I have made from France, I was still in my euphoria stage where just the idea of speaking English was a treat that I enjoyed, even at the expense of jetlag, relatively bad food, and the shock of seeing crocks for the first time. This time, the shock came from the question from a salesperson in response to my relatively straightforward request try on some shirts: “where are you from?” And here I was, officially a foreigner - again. I quickly considered the option of trying to explain to her the whole deal on my origins (too complicated and anyways she would have thought Ukraine is a city in the States or something along those lines). So I randomly babble out one word – France - which solicits the usual reaction along the lines of “oh, this is wonderful, you are so lucky!”.
I take my shirts and wonder along to my cabin wondering how can she know whether France is wonderful or not - after all, I could be living in some destitute village picking tomatos? Ps. Tomato pickers please don’t be offended, it just does not seem like a dream job for me. Tomatoes aside, this bring me to the moral of my story: despite the obvious difficulties of life in France (sufficiently highlighted by my airport comparison), and contrary to the common impressions of shirt salespersons, I was only too happy to be back to this side of the Atlantic where I am definitely a more obvious foreigner and where not many even bother to inquire as to where I am from because the very realization that I am from somewhere (ie. not French) is rather obvious (beyond three word sentences) and therefore does not interest anyone.
That being said, a realization that dawned on me is what matters more in this whole affair is not whether others see you as a foreigner, but whether you yourself see you as one and this latter requires point a consideration of what is important to you as a social context. Though I should by all objective criteria feel more ‘foreign’ in France, I could not help but think that this is somehow not the case. After all, home is where you decide to make it, perhaps minimizing or ignoring the differences between you and all the rest. And while to colleagues, friends and just nobodies here I am a confused Canadian, to me, I am a little French, at least for the moment. Which leads me to conclude that one can be ‘at home’ as a local foreigner and ‘abroad’ as a local traveler, all at the same time.
When I undertake my annual transatlantic haul, I am all too content to finally get on the board of the plane, with or without dinner service, with or without 150 kg neighbours (as long as I am not in between!), with or without the window seat – simply because the procedures in France (and particularly flying out of Charles de Gaulle) is one’s worst nightmare, with no exaggeration. First, the airport which is located in the middle of timbucktwo and is naturally rather unconnected from the rest of the city. Add to this the check-in procedures and the security procedures the apparent objective of which is to prevent you from getting on that plane, without making you lose faith – at least until the last minute – that you will succeed in your mission to finally get to row x, seat y. Whoever directed 'Mission impossible' should have made it take place at Charle de Gaulle. Perfect setting. Consider the following scene:
Me (to the check in counter lady): Sorry I cannot lift up my suitcase to put in on the scale.
Her: yes, well…too bad
Me: (hinting that she might help me – an idea totally lost on her): is there not anyone that can help?
Her: you are funny, madame.
Now, I accept that sometimes I might be funny and normally would take it as a compliment, but somehow not under the circumstances.
Having succeeded to register, then there is the take-everything-off and throw-everything-out-ritual, and the start-your laptop-ritual (which naturally forces me to re-pack my suitcase while I am standing shoe-less and my purse has gone into the open on their lovely conveyor line). In essence, the familiar airport deal, just with no service but lots of attitude. I am trying to stay amused, but while I may well be amusing THEM, I am not finding this amusing at all.
On the return trip, leaving the immense Toronto Pearson which I am guessing was built on projections of it becoming the next JFK, I am thinking “this place is paradise on earth”. For me, the Toronto Pearson is like any decent Canadian house compared to the size of my French apartment – unusably large. This, coupled with its virtual emptiness, ease of passage and generally friendly employees – makes coming back to Charle de Gaulle a repeat of a nightmare for which I need serious psychological help. And yet, aside from all the logistics of it, I am normally happy to return to my status of a permanent foreigner in France, in return for my status as a temporary foreigner in Canada.
The first few trips I have made from France, I was still in my euphoria stage where just the idea of speaking English was a treat that I enjoyed, even at the expense of jetlag, relatively bad food, and the shock of seeing crocks for the first time. This time, the shock came from the question from a salesperson in response to my relatively straightforward request try on some shirts: “where are you from?” And here I was, officially a foreigner - again. I quickly considered the option of trying to explain to her the whole deal on my origins (too complicated and anyways she would have thought Ukraine is a city in the States or something along those lines). So I randomly babble out one word – France - which solicits the usual reaction along the lines of “oh, this is wonderful, you are so lucky!”.
I take my shirts and wonder along to my cabin wondering how can she know whether France is wonderful or not - after all, I could be living in some destitute village picking tomatos? Ps. Tomato pickers please don’t be offended, it just does not seem like a dream job for me. Tomatoes aside, this bring me to the moral of my story: despite the obvious difficulties of life in France (sufficiently highlighted by my airport comparison), and contrary to the common impressions of shirt salespersons, I was only too happy to be back to this side of the Atlantic where I am definitely a more obvious foreigner and where not many even bother to inquire as to where I am from because the very realization that I am from somewhere (ie. not French) is rather obvious (beyond three word sentences) and therefore does not interest anyone.
That being said, a realization that dawned on me is what matters more in this whole affair is not whether others see you as a foreigner, but whether you yourself see you as one and this latter requires point a consideration of what is important to you as a social context. Though I should by all objective criteria feel more ‘foreign’ in France, I could not help but think that this is somehow not the case. After all, home is where you decide to make it, perhaps minimizing or ignoring the differences between you and all the rest. And while to colleagues, friends and just nobodies here I am a confused Canadian, to me, I am a little French, at least for the moment. Which leads me to conclude that one can be ‘at home’ as a local foreigner and ‘abroad’ as a local traveler, all at the same time.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
on the necessity of economic sanctions....
In the toolbox of diplomatic reactions, economic sanctions - either formal or informal - have always featured prominently. Of late, it has been the U.S. that has been threatening 'non-compliant' states with this option or actually implementing it, particularly in light of its already stretched military resources and the inability to throw funds at any more conflicts, given the ongoing war in Iraq and the strengthening couter-insurgency in Afghanistan. Over the past years, economic sanctions have been imposed on Saddam's Iraq, on Ahmadinejan's Iran, and a host of smaller states which were ideologically not alligned with the rest of the international community, or just some of this world's powerful...all with more or less, signigificant if not outright disastrous consequences.
Almost ten years later, the image of suffering Iraqi children is still fresh in our collective memory. The impact of economic sanctions is not only rhetorical and imagined, but has been also quantitatively substantiated. In a seminal 2005 study titled Economic Sanctions Reconsidered, the authors found that the average cost to a target country in a ‘success’ case was 2.4% of GNP and in a ‘failure’ case 1% of GNP. This and other research demonstrates that economic sanctions are no laughable matter, hence their effectiveness in twisting the arms of unwieldy politicians.
That being said, one can ask whether their effectiveness has been on the decline? Sanctions have been recently levied on Iran, and subsequently on Syria, without the same impact as earlier sanctions have had. This may be explained in terms of improved regional cooperation in the middle east, which implies ongoing strong economic relations with countries under sanctions. UAE and Iran, despite technically being in conflict over the islands which they dispute, and despite promoting different streams of Islam, are reported to have a strong and growing economic cooperation. Iran and Syria, while both under international economic sanctions, also have strong economic cooperation, with growing FDI and trade.
In the context of our new multipolar world, where there is always a careless lad on the block who does not really care about the moral wrongs of the 'sanctioned country' (i.e. China in Africa or UAE in Iran), what is the future of sanctions, and are there indeed any alternatives? Well, looking at the unravelling economic crisis in Russia, reported to be the worst since the 1998 banking crisis, I daresay there is. What's best about it, that the alternative is not even part of the 'nasty responses' in the toolbox of diplomatic reactions, it's a natural market reaction. Perhaps these Adam Smith inspired market equilibrium folks are onto something, maybe the markets do self-correct!
Let's have a quick look at the evidence only a few weeks after Russian invasion of Georgia. The Russian stock markets fell by over 50% since May. Capital flight led to two day closure of all Russian stock markets to halt the panic sale of equities. On September 11, the Russian central bank injected $10bn (£5.7bn) into the banking system to alleviate a chronic credit shortage. Further injections will be necessary and apparently budgeted for, as both direct and portfolio investors flee the country. The government announced a plan to boost liquidity by more than $100bn after the biggest market crash in a decade.
Likewise, foreign investors, uninspired by the latest news from the TN-KBP case are also reconsidering. RWE, the German utility, said it was pulling out of a deal to buy a stake in TGK-2, a Russian regional power generator, blaming the cost of the transaction and the turbulence in the country's financial markets. What's perhaps even more important, economic tensions, finally seem to result in a dialogue between the various factions in Kremlin, giving Putin less chance to shut off opposition forces (if they can be so qualified). Given that Putin's power rests ultimately on his promise to be able to deliver Russian out of Yeltsin's oblivion, this is not a threat to be taken lightly.
All this forces an interesting question: why go though the whole shabang of UN Economic Council unanimous decision making to levy sanctions, which have increasingly smaller impact when there seem to be easier and more effective opporunities? Perhaps in the future, certain political actions can have a natural market consequences, which force the regimes in question to change their political direction. Judging from the Russia case, this is certainly plausible. Of course, the caveat to the Russia case is that it is a regime that not only likes to tinker with neighbouring regimes and opponent political parties, but also with shareholder rights and rights of foreigners, all so very intricately related to the interest of foreign private investors into Russia. The good news for the international community, is that disrespect of agreed upon agreements (i.e. respect for Georgia's sovereignity) is often accompanied by disrespect of private ownership rights. A conclusion that then begs itself: goodbye sanctions, hello market democracy!
In the toolbox of diplomatic reactions, economic sanctions - either formal or informal - have always featured prominently. Of late, it has been the U.S. that has been threatening 'non-compliant' states with this option or actually implementing it, particularly in light of its already stretched military resources and the inability to throw funds at any more conflicts, given the ongoing war in Iraq and the strengthening couter-insurgency in Afghanistan. Over the past years, economic sanctions have been imposed on Saddam's Iraq, on Ahmadinejan's Iran, and a host of smaller states which were ideologically not alligned with the rest of the international community, or just some of this world's powerful...all with more or less, signigificant if not outright disastrous consequences.
Almost ten years later, the image of suffering Iraqi children is still fresh in our collective memory. The impact of economic sanctions is not only rhetorical and imagined, but has been also quantitatively substantiated. In a seminal 2005 study titled Economic Sanctions Reconsidered, the authors found that the average cost to a target country in a ‘success’ case was 2.4% of GNP and in a ‘failure’ case 1% of GNP. This and other research demonstrates that economic sanctions are no laughable matter, hence their effectiveness in twisting the arms of unwieldy politicians.
That being said, one can ask whether their effectiveness has been on the decline? Sanctions have been recently levied on Iran, and subsequently on Syria, without the same impact as earlier sanctions have had. This may be explained in terms of improved regional cooperation in the middle east, which implies ongoing strong economic relations with countries under sanctions. UAE and Iran, despite technically being in conflict over the islands which they dispute, and despite promoting different streams of Islam, are reported to have a strong and growing economic cooperation. Iran and Syria, while both under international economic sanctions, also have strong economic cooperation, with growing FDI and trade.
In the context of our new multipolar world, where there is always a careless lad on the block who does not really care about the moral wrongs of the 'sanctioned country' (i.e. China in Africa or UAE in Iran), what is the future of sanctions, and are there indeed any alternatives? Well, looking at the unravelling economic crisis in Russia, reported to be the worst since the 1998 banking crisis, I daresay there is. What's best about it, that the alternative is not even part of the 'nasty responses' in the toolbox of diplomatic reactions, it's a natural market reaction. Perhaps these Adam Smith inspired market equilibrium folks are onto something, maybe the markets do self-correct!
Let's have a quick look at the evidence only a few weeks after Russian invasion of Georgia. The Russian stock markets fell by over 50% since May. Capital flight led to two day closure of all Russian stock markets to halt the panic sale of equities. On September 11, the Russian central bank injected $10bn (£5.7bn) into the banking system to alleviate a chronic credit shortage. Further injections will be necessary and apparently budgeted for, as both direct and portfolio investors flee the country. The government announced a plan to boost liquidity by more than $100bn after the biggest market crash in a decade.
Likewise, foreign investors, uninspired by the latest news from the TN-KBP case are also reconsidering. RWE, the German utility, said it was pulling out of a deal to buy a stake in TGK-2, a Russian regional power generator, blaming the cost of the transaction and the turbulence in the country's financial markets. What's perhaps even more important, economic tensions, finally seem to result in a dialogue between the various factions in Kremlin, giving Putin less chance to shut off opposition forces (if they can be so qualified). Given that Putin's power rests ultimately on his promise to be able to deliver Russian out of Yeltsin's oblivion, this is not a threat to be taken lightly.
All this forces an interesting question: why go though the whole shabang of UN Economic Council unanimous decision making to levy sanctions, which have increasingly smaller impact when there seem to be easier and more effective opporunities? Perhaps in the future, certain political actions can have a natural market consequences, which force the regimes in question to change their political direction. Judging from the Russia case, this is certainly plausible. Of course, the caveat to the Russia case is that it is a regime that not only likes to tinker with neighbouring regimes and opponent political parties, but also with shareholder rights and rights of foreigners, all so very intricately related to the interest of foreign private investors into Russia. The good news for the international community, is that disrespect of agreed upon agreements (i.e. respect for Georgia's sovereignity) is often accompanied by disrespect of private ownership rights. A conclusion that then begs itself: goodbye sanctions, hello market democracy!
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
On the return of the bipolar power dynamics in the Middle East
Act Number One. Everything in the Middle East is Moving, and Everyone is Negotiating for Something.
Since the Euromed summit re-uniting all of the ‘democratically elected’ Arab leaders of the Mediterranean countries in Paris in July, the rentrée of Bashar Al Assad to the diplomatic scene has been hailed as a sign of a new ‘damascus spring’. Newspapers are buzzing of the normalisation of the relationship between Syria and the West just as they were a few months before on the normalisation of relationship between Libya and the West since Qaddafi’s visit to Paris, where he received royal welcome (including, of course, being able to erect a tent in the garden of the Sarkozy’s official residence). Observers point to the establishment of embassies between Lebanon and Syria, and the re-launch ( at first secret, and now increasingly public) of the peace negotiations between Israel and Syria, as signs of this ‘spring’. That may well be true, though of course the thorny issues between Syria and its satellite - Lebanon (including, inter alia, Hezbollah) - are far from being resolved. Neither is the longstanding dispute between Syria and Israel - principally about Golan Heights, but also about more complicated questions such as...again, the Hezbollah – about to be resolved. Syria has recently come out publicly to say so much, noting that no serious negotiations can occur while a certain Mr. Bush Junior is still located in a certain disclosed location called the White House.
Act Number Two. Pause all Negotiations. Enter Russia.
Putin’s presidency (and his continued virtual presidency) has not gone unnoticed, not only in Europe, where the 27 EC member states cannot agree on the level of sanctions against Russia following the Georgia crisis, but also in the Middle East. Since the deeply unpopular in the Middle East American war in Iraq, Russia has positioned itself in the region as an viable alternative to US power. Russia’s support is now indispensible in negotiating with Iranians over their nuclear regime, where Russia is building the Bushehr nuclear reactor. A similar deal was more recently (March 2008) signed with Egypt, clearing the way for Russia’s involvement in Egypt’s nuclear energy industry. Given the desire for nuclear energy expressed by Jordan, Bahrain, UAE and other MENA countries, Russia is back in the game. And it has more to offer than just nuclear capabilities. Bilateral trade agreements have been concluded at a breaking speed, tying the two regions not only militarily, but also economically.
So far, Russia’s power game in the Middle East has been more subtle than not. Last week, it has gotten significantly more blunt and aggressive. Following Russia’s allegations of US and ‘zionist’ support of the ‘Georgian-initiated aggression’, the all-too-well-timed to appear spontaneous trip of Putin to Syria demonstrates the return of the Cold War dynamics – the emergence of bipolar politics in the region, as if it did not have enough issues to deal with already. During the Syria visit, Russia has clearly raised its voice a notch. By changing its approach from one favouring a signature of cooperation agreements and ambiguous nuclear deals to one which threatens to provide direct military support to ‘hopefully spring’ states as a retaliation tactic, it is signaling a new role for Russia in the Middle East.
Act Number Three. The Bipolar Middle East
This role broadens the ambitions of Russia’s policy, which previously used its good old military capabilities as a source of potential revenue, and which now uses them as a means of re-shaping, or shall I say, solidifying existing alliances. Russia’s agreement to sell high-tech missiles to Syria as a retaliation for Israel’s alleged participation in the Georgian conflict is the direct evidence of this shift of policy. This strategy furthers the objectives of both for Russia and Syria – Russia because the West will eventually need it even more in negotiating with ‘rotten apples’ states, Syria because it sees a boosted military capability as a means to have a more balanced negotiating field with Israel.
US engagement with the Middle East and its crusade on the ‘war on terror’, which seems bunch together include your innocent muslim neighbor and an al-qaeda operative has without a doubt been a fiasco. As Francis Fukuyama points out in today’s FT (Russia and a New Democratic Realism, September 3, 2008), “one of the chief ways the US power has been diminished in this decade is in its moral credibility.” Indeed, moral credibility can be questioned when the US remains the only UN member to boycott the international treaty calling for the stop of the sales of weapons to ‘pariah’ states. In the Middle East, more than in any part of the world, American inability differentiate its actions from ‘the war on terror’ from ‘the war on islam’ has put the nail in the coffin - coffin of the American reputation in the Middle East.
That being said, the role of Russia in the region is not likely to be a positive one, least that statement be informed from historical facts. The Middle East is yet to re-discover the impact of the emerging alternative. When the Lebanese will discover not only the Russian Kalashnikovs peddled by the Eastern European arms salesman, but also more serious munitions sold by the Russian state, the re-discovery of the role of the ‘new Russia’ in the ‘new Middle East’ will truly re-commence.
End of Play.
Act Number One. Everything in the Middle East is Moving, and Everyone is Negotiating for Something.
Since the Euromed summit re-uniting all of the ‘democratically elected’ Arab leaders of the Mediterranean countries in Paris in July, the rentrée of Bashar Al Assad to the diplomatic scene has been hailed as a sign of a new ‘damascus spring’. Newspapers are buzzing of the normalisation of the relationship between Syria and the West just as they were a few months before on the normalisation of relationship between Libya and the West since Qaddafi’s visit to Paris, where he received royal welcome (including, of course, being able to erect a tent in the garden of the Sarkozy’s official residence). Observers point to the establishment of embassies between Lebanon and Syria, and the re-launch ( at first secret, and now increasingly public) of the peace negotiations between Israel and Syria, as signs of this ‘spring’. That may well be true, though of course the thorny issues between Syria and its satellite - Lebanon (including, inter alia, Hezbollah) - are far from being resolved. Neither is the longstanding dispute between Syria and Israel - principally about Golan Heights, but also about more complicated questions such as...again, the Hezbollah – about to be resolved. Syria has recently come out publicly to say so much, noting that no serious negotiations can occur while a certain Mr. Bush Junior is still located in a certain disclosed location called the White House.
Act Number Two. Pause all Negotiations. Enter Russia.
Putin’s presidency (and his continued virtual presidency) has not gone unnoticed, not only in Europe, where the 27 EC member states cannot agree on the level of sanctions against Russia following the Georgia crisis, but also in the Middle East. Since the deeply unpopular in the Middle East American war in Iraq, Russia has positioned itself in the region as an viable alternative to US power. Russia’s support is now indispensible in negotiating with Iranians over their nuclear regime, where Russia is building the Bushehr nuclear reactor. A similar deal was more recently (March 2008) signed with Egypt, clearing the way for Russia’s involvement in Egypt’s nuclear energy industry. Given the desire for nuclear energy expressed by Jordan, Bahrain, UAE and other MENA countries, Russia is back in the game. And it has more to offer than just nuclear capabilities. Bilateral trade agreements have been concluded at a breaking speed, tying the two regions not only militarily, but also economically.
So far, Russia’s power game in the Middle East has been more subtle than not. Last week, it has gotten significantly more blunt and aggressive. Following Russia’s allegations of US and ‘zionist’ support of the ‘Georgian-initiated aggression’, the all-too-well-timed to appear spontaneous trip of Putin to Syria demonstrates the return of the Cold War dynamics – the emergence of bipolar politics in the region, as if it did not have enough issues to deal with already. During the Syria visit, Russia has clearly raised its voice a notch. By changing its approach from one favouring a signature of cooperation agreements and ambiguous nuclear deals to one which threatens to provide direct military support to ‘hopefully spring’ states as a retaliation tactic, it is signaling a new role for Russia in the Middle East.
Act Number Three. The Bipolar Middle East
This role broadens the ambitions of Russia’s policy, which previously used its good old military capabilities as a source of potential revenue, and which now uses them as a means of re-shaping, or shall I say, solidifying existing alliances. Russia’s agreement to sell high-tech missiles to Syria as a retaliation for Israel’s alleged participation in the Georgian conflict is the direct evidence of this shift of policy. This strategy furthers the objectives of both for Russia and Syria – Russia because the West will eventually need it even more in negotiating with ‘rotten apples’ states, Syria because it sees a boosted military capability as a means to have a more balanced negotiating field with Israel.
US engagement with the Middle East and its crusade on the ‘war on terror’, which seems bunch together include your innocent muslim neighbor and an al-qaeda operative has without a doubt been a fiasco. As Francis Fukuyama points out in today’s FT (Russia and a New Democratic Realism, September 3, 2008), “one of the chief ways the US power has been diminished in this decade is in its moral credibility.” Indeed, moral credibility can be questioned when the US remains the only UN member to boycott the international treaty calling for the stop of the sales of weapons to ‘pariah’ states. In the Middle East, more than in any part of the world, American inability differentiate its actions from ‘the war on terror’ from ‘the war on islam’ has put the nail in the coffin - coffin of the American reputation in the Middle East.
That being said, the role of Russia in the region is not likely to be a positive one, least that statement be informed from historical facts. The Middle East is yet to re-discover the impact of the emerging alternative. When the Lebanese will discover not only the Russian Kalashnikovs peddled by the Eastern European arms salesman, but also more serious munitions sold by the Russian state, the re-discovery of the role of the ‘new Russia’ in the ‘new Middle East’ will truly re-commence.
End of Play.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Georgia - war of words
As we are watching the war in Georgia, another war in taking place behind the scenes. War of words. It is indeed debatable which one is more important from the strategic point of view. As the Russian army 'withdrew' from Georgia and the international community shakes its finger and shrugs its shoulders at the new noncompliant Russia, the story is already slipping of the news headlines.
What is notable though, is that while the physical battlefield has finally died down, the verbal battlefield is only in its opening stages. I would predict more is to come. While the Georgian president is making regular appearances speaking in Georgian and in his no less fluent English, explaining the events, defending himself, asking for help. Aside from communicating to his compatriots, his communication is aimed at addressing questions of the journalists.
On the Russian side the story is predictably much more colourful. A quick view on the international press over the last two weeks shows that the Russian government has been in a full time PR phase. PR phase, Russian government? This does not all seem to sit to fall together in one sentence. The soviet regime has a tradition of 'communicating' with its citizens through the solemn proclamations from behind the pedestal. This was the usual propaganda, nothing exciting. What's interesting is that more recently the Russian government (and by that I mean all the marrionettes collectively controlled by Putin) has launched a proactive international media campain to spread the propaganda beyond the ranks of already brainwashed comrades.
On August 20th, Lavrov affirmed quiet bluntly in the Wall Street Journal of all places that "America must choose between Georgia and Russia" (http://online.wsj.com/article/SB121919150258855111.html?mod=googlenews_wsj), the basic premise of which was to say in not such roundabout fashion that whatever you little people believe it, you have to choose between us or them (the 'black asses' as Putin allegedly refers to Georgians in diplomatic discussions). In a little more subtle piece published a few days later (August 26), Medvedev himself explains to all of us who might have misunderstood what has gone all over the last couple of days (that Russia annexed Georgian territory) "Why I had to recognise Georgia's breakaway regions"(http://www.ft.com/cms/s/0/9c7ad792-7395-11dd-8a66-0000779fd18c.html ). Even more well crafted, the article explains to the Western audiences that their leadership has ignored the "delicacy of the situation" and "Russia's repeated warnings".
Chapeau, as the french would say. The Russians seem to have recognised the power of international media - after all, it's just another way of publishing propaganda. During the Cold War, the propaganda machine was for internal consumption only, and the KGB was busy making sure no one would get the wiff of news outside, god forbid from BBC news. Now, they have woken up to reality that they can 'explain themselves' internationally. Wow, it's like the Cold War, but better!
Maybe it's my black sense of humour, but I cannot wait for the day when Sarkozy or Bush or Merkel or...writes an article explaining why the Russian government lies and manipulates. Such an article would provide some much needed background to the headlines of Russian papers such as this one, from today's Pravda ('truth' in Russian): 'georgia is dreaming of stealing Sochi from Russia.' Well, if Georgians are still able to dream about anything aside having a roof over their heads, it is certainly not about stealing Sochi. With what amunition? Oh, I forgot the Americans and the 'zionist entity' have provided Georgians with prenty.
Or take another headline from a paper similarly titled Komsomol'skaya Pravda (or something like communist truth'): "Nazarbaev says that he supports the actions of Russia." Well, while the title is not a lie per se, it is certainly not news - we all know that the Russians support the crazy leadership of Khazakstan. In light of all this, I have to say I am really looking forward for a retaliation from the west in this 'war of words' from the US, Canada, France, Germany, etc. Condoleeza Rice, with her PhD in Soviet history, seems well positioned to write one.
As we are watching the war in Georgia, another war in taking place behind the scenes. War of words. It is indeed debatable which one is more important from the strategic point of view. As the Russian army 'withdrew' from Georgia and the international community shakes its finger and shrugs its shoulders at the new noncompliant Russia, the story is already slipping of the news headlines.
What is notable though, is that while the physical battlefield has finally died down, the verbal battlefield is only in its opening stages. I would predict more is to come. While the Georgian president is making regular appearances speaking in Georgian and in his no less fluent English, explaining the events, defending himself, asking for help. Aside from communicating to his compatriots, his communication is aimed at addressing questions of the journalists.
On the Russian side the story is predictably much more colourful. A quick view on the international press over the last two weeks shows that the Russian government has been in a full time PR phase. PR phase, Russian government? This does not all seem to sit to fall together in one sentence. The soviet regime has a tradition of 'communicating' with its citizens through the solemn proclamations from behind the pedestal. This was the usual propaganda, nothing exciting. What's interesting is that more recently the Russian government (and by that I mean all the marrionettes collectively controlled by Putin) has launched a proactive international media campain to spread the propaganda beyond the ranks of already brainwashed comrades.
On August 20th, Lavrov affirmed quiet bluntly in the Wall Street Journal of all places that "America must choose between Georgia and Russia" (http://online.wsj.com/article/SB121919150258855111.html?mod=googlenews_wsj), the basic premise of which was to say in not such roundabout fashion that whatever you little people believe it, you have to choose between us or them (the 'black asses' as Putin allegedly refers to Georgians in diplomatic discussions). In a little more subtle piece published a few days later (August 26), Medvedev himself explains to all of us who might have misunderstood what has gone all over the last couple of days (that Russia annexed Georgian territory) "Why I had to recognise Georgia's breakaway regions"(http://www.ft.com/cms/s/0/9c7ad792-7395-11dd-8a66-0000779fd18c.html ). Even more well crafted, the article explains to the Western audiences that their leadership has ignored the "delicacy of the situation" and "Russia's repeated warnings".
Chapeau, as the french would say. The Russians seem to have recognised the power of international media - after all, it's just another way of publishing propaganda. During the Cold War, the propaganda machine was for internal consumption only, and the KGB was busy making sure no one would get the wiff of news outside, god forbid from BBC news. Now, they have woken up to reality that they can 'explain themselves' internationally. Wow, it's like the Cold War, but better!
Maybe it's my black sense of humour, but I cannot wait for the day when Sarkozy or Bush or Merkel or...writes an article explaining why the Russian government lies and manipulates. Such an article would provide some much needed background to the headlines of Russian papers such as this one, from today's Pravda ('truth' in Russian): 'georgia is dreaming of stealing Sochi from Russia.' Well, if Georgians are still able to dream about anything aside having a roof over their heads, it is certainly not about stealing Sochi. With what amunition? Oh, I forgot the Americans and the 'zionist entity' have provided Georgians with prenty.
Or take another headline from a paper similarly titled Komsomol'skaya Pravda (or something like communist truth'): "Nazarbaev says that he supports the actions of Russia." Well, while the title is not a lie per se, it is certainly not news - we all know that the Russians support the crazy leadership of Khazakstan. In light of all this, I have to say I am really looking forward for a retaliation from the west in this 'war of words' from the US, Canada, France, Germany, etc. Condoleeza Rice, with her PhD in Soviet history, seems well positioned to write one.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
The cat and mouse game between Russia and Georgia
The first territorial conflict with Russia since the end of the Cold War. It is slowly gaining the headlines amid the hype surrounding the Olympics. The CNN actually drew a formal link between the two events by showing a Russian and a Georgian athlete embracing each other during the Games. And just like this, CNN reluctantly switched from the Olympics, watched all over the world, to the Russia-Georgia conflict, which does not get the same amount of advertising revenue. Surely, many people around the world have never heard of South Ossetia or Abkhazia. Ironically, the sea of the disinterested and ignorant seems to include Wolf Blitzer, the senior CNN correspondent, charged with conducting the role with the Georgian President Saakashvili today (August 10, 2008).
He seemed to confuse the two territories during the interview, asking Saakashvili about 'south Abkhasia' instead of 'south Ossetia', and interrupting him constantly to ask irrelevant questions. Finally, he top beating around the bush pretending that the viewers are interesting to know what is happening in Georgia and got to the point, asking Saakashvili whether it is true that two thousand Americans are living or travelling in Georgia at the moment. Indeed, what are the measures his government intends to take to secure the safety of Americans in Georgia? Pity the President seemed to have other preoccupations at the moment. Though this seems like an abhorrent question to ask of a man whose country and very capital, Tbilisi, is under an attack from the Russian army, that was not all coming from Blitzer, who also inquired whether the President believes that the Georgian army is as powerful as the Russian. I wonder wheather and when he checked the basic statistics: Georgia's population stands at four million whereas that of Russian at over one hundred and fourty million.
At the same time that I watched the CNN question the Geogrian president, the Russian president declared that he does not wish to talk to his Georgian counterpart. As Russia's ambassador to the UN pointed out, what would they have to discuss at this juncture?! I don't know, but how about Russia's bombarment of the Tbilisi international airport (half an hour after the French Foreign Minister landed in Tbilisi)? How about Georgian's offer for immediate cease fire? How about Russia's bombing of Georgian civilian targets, which Russia's UN ambassador denied with foam coming out of his mouth and employing less that diplomatic Russian terms? (Pity that the UN translators do not dare to translate word for word, giving the rest of the world the impression that those sent by Russia do no speak in the language of a local bouncer at a night club). How about Russia's demand of the UN to withdraw observers from the region? How about Russia's deployment of the marine forces via the Black Sea (resisted by Ukraine), which according to the same infamous ambassador to the UN, does not amount to a military blocade?
Or how about Russian president refusing to talk to his Georgian counterpart? Of course, instead of Medvedev or Putin (sorry, the character play is still confusing) picking up the phone to talk to Saakashvili, Russia continues to bombard Georgia, which, anyways, it sees as an extension of its own backyard. At the UN, it almost said so in a long-winded explanation about the 'historical' roots of the conflict going back to 1991. The reference to 1991 is not circumstantial - this is when the referendum on the idependence of Georgia took place. Today, 17 years later, Russia's ambassador the UN referred to this event as a 'historic mistake', yet this has probably missed the ears of many observers who are unaware of the significance of this reference.
In a kind of childish logic "you took my toys first", Moscow is pointing the finger in the direction of Georgia for starting the conflict. It is a funny logic given that south Ossetia's government is led by a illiterate (and here I do not mean figuratively, but literally - a man who knows neither how to write nor how to read) was put in place by the Russian government to stir up problems in lieu of Georgia's accession to NATO. And, by the way, this top secret came out yesterday from an interview with a French MP. The Russian reasoning on the order of events which have unfolded in Ossetia has failed not on one, but on two occasions. Speaking on the point of ending violance, the Russians are demanding that Georgia withdraw from South Ossetia before they can consider a cease-fire (i.e. stop bombing Georgian civilian targets). The thing is, it has withdrawn.
The arrogant and racist as-ever Russia is letting its true colours show once again. On the occasion of the extraordinary Security Council session it asked of Georgia and (in the brakets of the US), what it should do given the role of the former in Iraq, Afghanistan and the Balkans? The implications being: if you can mess in other country's playgound's, why can't we mess in yours? True, why can't they? It is not like the European Union, at the footsteps of which all this is taking place, will do anything. China is busy with the Olympics, and can't give a damn anyways. "Hello, US, are you ready for Cold War, part II?"
The first territorial conflict with Russia since the end of the Cold War. It is slowly gaining the headlines amid the hype surrounding the Olympics. The CNN actually drew a formal link between the two events by showing a Russian and a Georgian athlete embracing each other during the Games. And just like this, CNN reluctantly switched from the Olympics, watched all over the world, to the Russia-Georgia conflict, which does not get the same amount of advertising revenue. Surely, many people around the world have never heard of South Ossetia or Abkhazia. Ironically, the sea of the disinterested and ignorant seems to include Wolf Blitzer, the senior CNN correspondent, charged with conducting the role with the Georgian President Saakashvili today (August 10, 2008).
He seemed to confuse the two territories during the interview, asking Saakashvili about 'south Abkhasia' instead of 'south Ossetia', and interrupting him constantly to ask irrelevant questions. Finally, he top beating around the bush pretending that the viewers are interesting to know what is happening in Georgia and got to the point, asking Saakashvili whether it is true that two thousand Americans are living or travelling in Georgia at the moment. Indeed, what are the measures his government intends to take to secure the safety of Americans in Georgia? Pity the President seemed to have other preoccupations at the moment. Though this seems like an abhorrent question to ask of a man whose country and very capital, Tbilisi, is under an attack from the Russian army, that was not all coming from Blitzer, who also inquired whether the President believes that the Georgian army is as powerful as the Russian. I wonder wheather and when he checked the basic statistics: Georgia's population stands at four million whereas that of Russian at over one hundred and fourty million.
At the same time that I watched the CNN question the Geogrian president, the Russian president declared that he does not wish to talk to his Georgian counterpart. As Russia's ambassador to the UN pointed out, what would they have to discuss at this juncture?! I don't know, but how about Russia's bombarment of the Tbilisi international airport (half an hour after the French Foreign Minister landed in Tbilisi)? How about Georgian's offer for immediate cease fire? How about Russia's bombing of Georgian civilian targets, which Russia's UN ambassador denied with foam coming out of his mouth and employing less that diplomatic Russian terms? (Pity that the UN translators do not dare to translate word for word, giving the rest of the world the impression that those sent by Russia do no speak in the language of a local bouncer at a night club). How about Russia's demand of the UN to withdraw observers from the region? How about Russia's deployment of the marine forces via the Black Sea (resisted by Ukraine), which according to the same infamous ambassador to the UN, does not amount to a military blocade?
Or how about Russian president refusing to talk to his Georgian counterpart? Of course, instead of Medvedev or Putin (sorry, the character play is still confusing) picking up the phone to talk to Saakashvili, Russia continues to bombard Georgia, which, anyways, it sees as an extension of its own backyard. At the UN, it almost said so in a long-winded explanation about the 'historical' roots of the conflict going back to 1991. The reference to 1991 is not circumstantial - this is when the referendum on the idependence of Georgia took place. Today, 17 years later, Russia's ambassador the UN referred to this event as a 'historic mistake', yet this has probably missed the ears of many observers who are unaware of the significance of this reference.
In a kind of childish logic "you took my toys first", Moscow is pointing the finger in the direction of Georgia for starting the conflict. It is a funny logic given that south Ossetia's government is led by a illiterate (and here I do not mean figuratively, but literally - a man who knows neither how to write nor how to read) was put in place by the Russian government to stir up problems in lieu of Georgia's accession to NATO. And, by the way, this top secret came out yesterday from an interview with a French MP. The Russian reasoning on the order of events which have unfolded in Ossetia has failed not on one, but on two occasions. Speaking on the point of ending violance, the Russians are demanding that Georgia withdraw from South Ossetia before they can consider a cease-fire (i.e. stop bombing Georgian civilian targets). The thing is, it has withdrawn.
The arrogant and racist as-ever Russia is letting its true colours show once again. On the occasion of the extraordinary Security Council session it asked of Georgia and (in the brakets of the US), what it should do given the role of the former in Iraq, Afghanistan and the Balkans? The implications being: if you can mess in other country's playgound's, why can't we mess in yours? True, why can't they? It is not like the European Union, at the footsteps of which all this is taking place, will do anything. China is busy with the Olympics, and can't give a damn anyways. "Hello, US, are you ready for Cold War, part II?"
Tuesday, August 05, 2008
My neighbourhood in Paris, Saint Germain des Près has been home to the artistic community of the city and beyond, and therefore subject to movies, paintings, sketches, books, and outright legends. To the point that some of its hallmarks such as Le Deux Magots and Café Flore, in other contexts snobby cafés with more than usual number of Vuitton bags per capita, have become historical hallmarks, tellingly - not only for the tourists but still, for the parisiens et parisiennes. I realise I cannot do justice to this little paradise in Paris in the same way at the famous french writers have, but I after three years of inhabiting here, I cannot help but humbly provide my view of it.
Wondering the perimeter of the 6th arrondissement this afternoon from Saint Sulpice, to Jardin Luxembourg to the gallery district, I couldn't help but thinking that I prefer an attic in the sixth to a stadium in any other corner of the city. Attics in the sixth may be blessed with leaking roofs and crazy hot temperatures in the summer, but equally with an incredible charm of wood beams on the ceilings. And when the tenants of the same attics and appartments in old buildings with no elevators descend the creaking stairs, passing by garbage cans situated in the middle of their courtyards, and the elderly neighbours who seem to spend their life complaining about each other or the concierge (collectively known as 'hell'), they arrive directly in paradise.
Paradise which contains....galleries overflowing with medieval relics, modern art, photographs nestled between designer shops, both much less pretensious than they counterparts across the river. Restaurants with four side-by-side miniscule tables where I am so often tempted to take a cheapter version of the black mud (called expresso here) just to get the flavour of the conversation of the day. Courtyards which range to from chic closed spaces with offices to half ruined and cracked wooden doors, which feature either the name of the resident doctor, or a description of the historical significance of the building. Photo galleries the likes of the new, luminous and innovative Lumas which takes the space of the old Lagerfeld store, which I imagine left to where it belongs more - rue Saint Honoré. Stores which specialise is selling the most banal things under the pretense of being chic: straw hats, socks, baby printed t-shirts, hair-pins.
Note: in any other spot of France, they would undoubtly and promptly go bankrupt, not so in the sixth where everything manages to have its own charm, and therefore survive. Take for instance, this store which seems to sell baby beds and accessories. I couldn't resist taking a picture of this as an example of my point. Looking from the outside in, this place seems to sell nothing, a few funny shaped and crafted pillows and a couple of baby blankets? No, dear friend, I ought to correct you: the store sells dreams and wishes and fuzzy thoughts that over-eager mammas will surely consumer without a second thought. And thus, the charm of the stores of the sixth lives on...
Door to 'little heaven'
For all its priciness bordering onto pretense, the sixth is nothing like its truly chic counterparts - the first or the eighth across the bank, streaming with glitter and tourists. It is neither the grassroots of the third or the fourth, both of course charming in their unique ways. It has the undeserved reputation of being snob, owing to lack of a populist character and some landmarks like the Bon Marché with its service voiturier. And yet it is neither the sleepiness of the sixteenth or the seventeenth with its large buildings and family style living, where one must keep drinking coffee in order to keep awake. The sixth has a character of a young lady, the history of an old man, the structure of a long labyrinth, the style of a fashion house. And yet it is unassuming in its own way.
Perhaps therein lies its charm. The boutique of Yves Saint Laurent in a building with old white shutters reminding passerbys of its history. The chic boutique of famous chocolatier Pierre Herme in a tiny space with a winding queque. The leather bags with prices high enough to make me want to confuse it with a serial number, being seemingly thrown on some ikea looking hooks. And finally its inhabitants, who may be wearing the local supermarket brand at ten euros or the latest Armani dress, and look equally and mysteriosly elegant in both. All that being said, I am guessing you might be started to get bored with my laundry list description, but today, on this fine august day, and despite the general state of closure of everything in the sixth, I felt like delivering an ode to it. Adios.
Wondering the perimeter of the 6th arrondissement this afternoon from Saint Sulpice, to Jardin Luxembourg to the gallery district, I couldn't help but thinking that I prefer an attic in the sixth to a stadium in any other corner of the city. Attics in the sixth may be blessed with leaking roofs and crazy hot temperatures in the summer, but equally with an incredible charm of wood beams on the ceilings. And when the tenants of the same attics and appartments in old buildings with no elevators descend the creaking stairs, passing by garbage cans situated in the middle of their courtyards, and the elderly neighbours who seem to spend their life complaining about each other or the concierge (collectively known as 'hell'), they arrive directly in paradise.
Paradise which contains....galleries overflowing with medieval relics, modern art, photographs nestled between designer shops, both much less pretensious than they counterparts across the river. Restaurants with four side-by-side miniscule tables where I am so often tempted to take a cheapter version of the black mud (called expresso here) just to get the flavour of the conversation of the day. Courtyards which range to from chic closed spaces with offices to half ruined and cracked wooden doors, which feature either the name of the resident doctor, or a description of the historical significance of the building. Photo galleries the likes of the new, luminous and innovative Lumas which takes the space of the old Lagerfeld store, which I imagine left to where it belongs more - rue Saint Honoré. Stores which specialise is selling the most banal things under the pretense of being chic: straw hats, socks, baby printed t-shirts, hair-pins.
Note: in any other spot of France, they would undoubtly and promptly go bankrupt, not so in the sixth where everything manages to have its own charm, and therefore survive. Take for instance, this store which seems to sell baby beds and accessories. I couldn't resist taking a picture of this as an example of my point. Looking from the outside in, this place seems to sell nothing, a few funny shaped and crafted pillows and a couple of baby blankets? No, dear friend, I ought to correct you: the store sells dreams and wishes and fuzzy thoughts that over-eager mammas will surely consumer without a second thought. And thus, the charm of the stores of the sixth lives on...
Door to 'little heaven'
For all its priciness bordering onto pretense, the sixth is nothing like its truly chic counterparts - the first or the eighth across the bank, streaming with glitter and tourists. It is neither the grassroots of the third or the fourth, both of course charming in their unique ways. It has the undeserved reputation of being snob, owing to lack of a populist character and some landmarks like the Bon Marché with its service voiturier. And yet it is neither the sleepiness of the sixteenth or the seventeenth with its large buildings and family style living, where one must keep drinking coffee in order to keep awake. The sixth has a character of a young lady, the history of an old man, the structure of a long labyrinth, the style of a fashion house. And yet it is unassuming in its own way.
Perhaps therein lies its charm. The boutique of Yves Saint Laurent in a building with old white shutters reminding passerbys of its history. The chic boutique of famous chocolatier Pierre Herme in a tiny space with a winding queque. The leather bags with prices high enough to make me want to confuse it with a serial number, being seemingly thrown on some ikea looking hooks. And finally its inhabitants, who may be wearing the local supermarket brand at ten euros or the latest Armani dress, and look equally and mysteriosly elegant in both. All that being said, I am guessing you might be started to get bored with my laundry list description, but today, on this fine august day, and despite the general state of closure of everything in the sixth, I felt like delivering an ode to it. Adios.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Once upon a country
I don't usually use my blog space to write book reviews, but I feel this one is worth it. Recently browsing the shelves of the local bookstore in Paris I came across the title above by Sari Nusseibeh, the famous dean philosopher of the Al-Quds University. My curiosity had the better of me. After a week of being consumed by the book and getting some equally curious glances in the metro, at the hairdressor's and from my extended family (I took it to family vacation in Provence where everyone probably thought I didn't harmonise with the peaceful paysages of south of france), I finally finished it at some early hour last night. Of all the books I have read on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, this one wins my strong recommendation (not that it needs it).
The autobiography of this Palestinian intellectual, unlike much of what is written on the topic - empty air, biased demagogery, useless 'academic research' looking at the conflict through a 'new' theory - this book is rooted in history of arabs and jews in palestine (though evidently and naturally more of arabs than jews) and enriched by the invaluable personal experiences of the author which put him in position to tell stories hetherto unheard, having served in inofficial capacity as an advisor to Arafat and having been part of countless negotiating teams with the Israelis.
Histon lesson through family history
What is perhaps more unique, is that Nusseibeh is able to tell the story of Palestinians life and struggles in this land not since some arbitrary date (1948, 1967, 2002, etc. etc.) but through the history of Palestinian struggle for nationhood, his father having served as a Minister to King Hussein. In other words, Nusseinbeh was born into Palestinian politics before he himself even knew it - as much he admits. The discussions in the family salon between his father and various dignitaries, Israeli, Palestinian, Jordanian, American, British set the scene for his growth and interest in politics, the latter going against his personality, which is more academically inclined than fit for juggling the changing dynamics of this complex region. Nonetheless, in Palestine-Israel, which he pointeldly calls Pal-El, one does not have to go into politics, politics comes to you, with its changing faces, negotiation teams, religious and nationalist factions. Politics has him attacked for applying philosophical principles to Islam, politics has his University almost separated by the Wall, politics engulfs him - to an extent which he leaves the reader feeling - he resents, but
cannot withstand if he wants to have his voice heard. Voice of moderation.
Voice of moderation
As I interpreted it, the book is about the dynamic obstacle course that Palestinian moderates, as he credibly positions himself, have to make deal with to assert their nationalist ambitions. His struggle of a 'moderate' leaves the reader with an incredible sadness and a healthy dose of pessimism for the peace process, if it can still be called so. One of the loudest messages of the book which Nuseibeh repeatedly emphasises, is that being a moderate is a dangerous occupation in Pal-El. For it makes him a walking target, at varying times, of Hamas and Fatah on his 'side of border', and even the Shin Bet, Ariel Sharon, and others who claim him to be 'the most dangerous Palestininan', a 'sheep in wolf's clothing'. Unlike other fascinating episodes Nusseibeh tells with an undeniable skill of a storyteller, this is message that consisentently appears throughout the book. His key point here is that being a moderate (i.e. advocating peaceful resistance and peace negotiations under all cicumstances) is not a position favourite with his fellow Palestinians and indeed their leadership (an interesting question here would be the causality, but I'll leave that for another blog entry) but also, and from my point of view, more surprisngly, with the Israeli politicians.
While observing the dislike of moderates by some factions of the Israeli society with reference to himself, Nusseibeh notes that in general "israelis (repeatedly) went back to the old strategie of hunting down the moderates while leaving the fanatics alone" explaining that "they did this not because our feuding tribes were so far away from peace, but because peace was so near, like a ripe plum reading for picking." He goes on to say that even during the second intifada, "polls on both sides showed that the desire for peace was stronger than the thirst for blood. This scared Sharon as much as it did Sheikh Yassin. If Israeli and Palestininan people were allies in peace, some of our leaders were allies in stroking the conflict." This is perhaps the single most poignant point of the book - the point that peace could have been achieved, at various points, and that it failed not only because of the different positions of the two societies, but because accepting it was not in the best interests of the leadership. Clearly, this is the reason Arafat rejected the historic deal offered to him by Barak, the loss of which - the author seems to concede - was an enormous and perhaps permanent loss for the Palestinian society.
Oslo - everyone's fault?
And it is in this latter part of the book, that the account offered by Nusseibeh, starts to loose some of its credibility. While his desciptions of the dealings of the inner circules of the negotiating teams of the two sides before Oslo are convincing and certainly make for a fascinating read, his analysis of Oslo, while insightful in relating the failure to Arafat's lack of readiness for the talks, faulters somewhat on the analysis of the final failure of Oslo. He seems to be particularly careful in attributing blame. On Arafat role in the matter, he writes apologetically: "for all his failings, and he clearly blew it by not closing some sort of a deal at Camp David - Arafat was neither sufficiently in control nor sufficiently villainous to devise such conspiracy (intifada)." Nusseibeh seems to attribute some failure for Camp David to Arafat, but more his alleged indecision, rather than some express desire to encourage the intifada. It is somewhat understandable he would be of this opinion, even post-mortem of Arafat, given his role in the Palestinian society, and his image as one who has sacrificed everything for the Palestinian cause. Nonetheless, this account of Oslo's failure seems to partition blame to all the participating parties in equal measure, as if he was cutting cake for his children in order for them to avoid fighting for the biggest part. Finally, for Nusseibeh "everyone shares some blame in the summit's failure", which is questionable given his own admission that Arafat said no without making a counter-offer.
If he were to assert that everyone shares some blame in the failure of the peace process in general, this would be a much more palatable proposition. In particular, the parallel construction of settlements by Israel in tandem with the peace negotiations whereby Israel claimed it would withdraw to the 1967 borders, is a point he is undeniably correct in making. Given his familiarity with the key characters of the play, he brings in Olmert to illustrate his point: "in 1997, Ehud Olmert, mayor of Jerusalem, supported the American millionaire Irving Moskowitz who used money from a bingo parlor to build a Jewish neighbourhood in Ras al-Amud an Arab neighbourhood east of the Old City. New regulations were introduced, or the old ones suddenly enforced, to control the institutions they couldn't legally drive out."
Rise of Hamas
Another interesting angle the book takes is on the now much popular and, admittedly pertinent, analysis of the rise of Hamas.
In his view, the islamisation of Palestinian politics dates back to mid-80s . Nusseibeh account serves as a timely reminder of the another tragic mistake of the Israeli policy of support of Islamic factions vs nationalist ones. In particular, he highlights the initial suport of the famous paraplegic Sheikh Yassin as a plausible counter-force to the nationalist aspirations of the Palestinians, and thus Israeli support his 'charity'. Already in those days, the Islamic movement was starting to associate with Muslim Brotherhood and adopted its model of social service provision as a means to win over the minds and souls of ordinary Palestinians. It was a clearly a sign to watch out for, but Israeli wavered on its policy regarding Yassin, at one point releasing him from prison, only to assassinate him again. Of course, that happened when I was in Jerusalem. On the whole, his point on islamic vs nationalist politics is an excellent one, and one which is repeadly made by other experts on the Middle East such as Fred Haliday.
Final word...
Overall, the account offered by the book is riveting in terms of both the detail and the perspective the author offers, his family having over a thousand year history in Jerusalem. While one can select details, as I have above, with which we can agree or disagree, this work demonstrates the humanism of the author - and as he tries to do - of his fellow countrymen. It should be made a mandatory read in both Palestinian and Israeli classrooms. In offering his perspective of the troubles and trebulations of the Palestinian and Israeli politics, it seems that Sari Nusseibeh is following the footsteps of his father, whose life's goal was, as he proudly declares was - "to help his people live in decency and freedom - freedom from foreing oppression, but equally from illusions and from what Kant calls self-imposed immaturity." Perhaps one day he will succeed, inshallah.
I don't usually use my blog space to write book reviews, but I feel this one is worth it. Recently browsing the shelves of the local bookstore in Paris I came across the title above by Sari Nusseibeh, the famous dean philosopher of the Al-Quds University. My curiosity had the better of me. After a week of being consumed by the book and getting some equally curious glances in the metro, at the hairdressor's and from my extended family (I took it to family vacation in Provence where everyone probably thought I didn't harmonise with the peaceful paysages of south of france), I finally finished it at some early hour last night. Of all the books I have read on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, this one wins my strong recommendation (not that it needs it).
The autobiography of this Palestinian intellectual, unlike much of what is written on the topic - empty air, biased demagogery, useless 'academic research' looking at the conflict through a 'new' theory - this book is rooted in history of arabs and jews in palestine (though evidently and naturally more of arabs than jews) and enriched by the invaluable personal experiences of the author which put him in position to tell stories hetherto unheard, having served in inofficial capacity as an advisor to Arafat and having been part of countless negotiating teams with the Israelis.
Histon lesson through family history
What is perhaps more unique, is that Nusseibeh is able to tell the story of Palestinians life and struggles in this land not since some arbitrary date (1948, 1967, 2002, etc. etc.) but through the history of Palestinian struggle for nationhood, his father having served as a Minister to King Hussein. In other words, Nusseinbeh was born into Palestinian politics before he himself even knew it - as much he admits. The discussions in the family salon between his father and various dignitaries, Israeli, Palestinian, Jordanian, American, British set the scene for his growth and interest in politics, the latter going against his personality, which is more academically inclined than fit for juggling the changing dynamics of this complex region. Nonetheless, in Palestine-Israel, which he pointeldly calls Pal-El, one does not have to go into politics, politics comes to you, with its changing faces, negotiation teams, religious and nationalist factions. Politics has him attacked for applying philosophical principles to Islam, politics has his University almost separated by the Wall, politics engulfs him - to an extent which he leaves the reader feeling - he resents, but
cannot withstand if he wants to have his voice heard. Voice of moderation.
Voice of moderation
As I interpreted it, the book is about the dynamic obstacle course that Palestinian moderates, as he credibly positions himself, have to make deal with to assert their nationalist ambitions. His struggle of a 'moderate' leaves the reader with an incredible sadness and a healthy dose of pessimism for the peace process, if it can still be called so. One of the loudest messages of the book which Nuseibeh repeatedly emphasises, is that being a moderate is a dangerous occupation in Pal-El. For it makes him a walking target, at varying times, of Hamas and Fatah on his 'side of border', and even the Shin Bet, Ariel Sharon, and others who claim him to be 'the most dangerous Palestininan', a 'sheep in wolf's clothing'. Unlike other fascinating episodes Nusseibeh tells with an undeniable skill of a storyteller, this is message that consisentently appears throughout the book. His key point here is that being a moderate (i.e. advocating peaceful resistance and peace negotiations under all cicumstances) is not a position favourite with his fellow Palestinians and indeed their leadership (an interesting question here would be the causality, but I'll leave that for another blog entry) but also, and from my point of view, more surprisngly, with the Israeli politicians.
While observing the dislike of moderates by some factions of the Israeli society with reference to himself, Nusseibeh notes that in general "israelis (repeatedly) went back to the old strategie of hunting down the moderates while leaving the fanatics alone" explaining that "they did this not because our feuding tribes were so far away from peace, but because peace was so near, like a ripe plum reading for picking." He goes on to say that even during the second intifada, "polls on both sides showed that the desire for peace was stronger than the thirst for blood. This scared Sharon as much as it did Sheikh Yassin. If Israeli and Palestininan people were allies in peace, some of our leaders were allies in stroking the conflict." This is perhaps the single most poignant point of the book - the point that peace could have been achieved, at various points, and that it failed not only because of the different positions of the two societies, but because accepting it was not in the best interests of the leadership. Clearly, this is the reason Arafat rejected the historic deal offered to him by Barak, the loss of which - the author seems to concede - was an enormous and perhaps permanent loss for the Palestinian society.
Oslo - everyone's fault?
And it is in this latter part of the book, that the account offered by Nusseibeh, starts to loose some of its credibility. While his desciptions of the dealings of the inner circules of the negotiating teams of the two sides before Oslo are convincing and certainly make for a fascinating read, his analysis of Oslo, while insightful in relating the failure to Arafat's lack of readiness for the talks, faulters somewhat on the analysis of the final failure of Oslo. He seems to be particularly careful in attributing blame. On Arafat role in the matter, he writes apologetically: "for all his failings, and he clearly blew it by not closing some sort of a deal at Camp David - Arafat was neither sufficiently in control nor sufficiently villainous to devise such conspiracy (intifada)." Nusseibeh seems to attribute some failure for Camp David to Arafat, but more his alleged indecision, rather than some express desire to encourage the intifada. It is somewhat understandable he would be of this opinion, even post-mortem of Arafat, given his role in the Palestinian society, and his image as one who has sacrificed everything for the Palestinian cause. Nonetheless, this account of Oslo's failure seems to partition blame to all the participating parties in equal measure, as if he was cutting cake for his children in order for them to avoid fighting for the biggest part. Finally, for Nusseibeh "everyone shares some blame in the summit's failure", which is questionable given his own admission that Arafat said no without making a counter-offer.
If he were to assert that everyone shares some blame in the failure of the peace process in general, this would be a much more palatable proposition. In particular, the parallel construction of settlements by Israel in tandem with the peace negotiations whereby Israel claimed it would withdraw to the 1967 borders, is a point he is undeniably correct in making. Given his familiarity with the key characters of the play, he brings in Olmert to illustrate his point: "in 1997, Ehud Olmert, mayor of Jerusalem, supported the American millionaire Irving Moskowitz who used money from a bingo parlor to build a Jewish neighbourhood in Ras al-Amud an Arab neighbourhood east of the Old City. New regulations were introduced, or the old ones suddenly enforced, to control the institutions they couldn't legally drive out."
Rise of Hamas
Another interesting angle the book takes is on the now much popular and, admittedly pertinent, analysis of the rise of Hamas.
In his view, the islamisation of Palestinian politics dates back to mid-80s . Nusseibeh account serves as a timely reminder of the another tragic mistake of the Israeli policy of support of Islamic factions vs nationalist ones. In particular, he highlights the initial suport of the famous paraplegic Sheikh Yassin as a plausible counter-force to the nationalist aspirations of the Palestinians, and thus Israeli support his 'charity'. Already in those days, the Islamic movement was starting to associate with Muslim Brotherhood and adopted its model of social service provision as a means to win over the minds and souls of ordinary Palestinians. It was a clearly a sign to watch out for, but Israeli wavered on its policy regarding Yassin, at one point releasing him from prison, only to assassinate him again. Of course, that happened when I was in Jerusalem. On the whole, his point on islamic vs nationalist politics is an excellent one, and one which is repeadly made by other experts on the Middle East such as Fred Haliday.
Final word...
Overall, the account offered by the book is riveting in terms of both the detail and the perspective the author offers, his family having over a thousand year history in Jerusalem. While one can select details, as I have above, with which we can agree or disagree, this work demonstrates the humanism of the author - and as he tries to do - of his fellow countrymen. It should be made a mandatory read in both Palestinian and Israeli classrooms. In offering his perspective of the troubles and trebulations of the Palestinian and Israeli politics, it seems that Sari Nusseibeh is following the footsteps of his father, whose life's goal was, as he proudly declares was - "to help his people live in decency and freedom - freedom from foreing oppression, but equally from illusions and from what Kant calls self-imposed immaturity." Perhaps one day he will succeed, inshallah.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Praha - the Metamorphosis
A trip to Prague for me was like a trip down the memory lane, or more precisely, what could have been the memory lane. A charming town reflecting centuries of tradition, medieval conquest, and at the same time eastern European flare. Having shed communism on an as-soon-as-possible basis, Prague has witnessed an incredible re-birth, and some of the locals that actually fled the city have even come back, confessed to me one elderly inhabitant in all his bristling eagerness to practice his french. The city now rivals many of the jewels of Europe, with its red roofs and colourfully repainted façades, its symbiotic co-existence of modern art deco and medieval style architecture reminicent of Vienna.
It boasts an unusual combination of mediterranean style colourful facades and brick trottoirs, amidst romantic sculptures. In places, and thankfully not too often, it features these massive Stalin era buildings which are meant to reduce humans to ants, or at least make them feel like it. The architectural adaptation of it all is rather hilarious if looked at closer glace: during one of my city escapades, I managed to stumble on a macdo (I think it must have been already there as the berlin wall was being dismantled) featuring the all-familiar arch right under a band of Soviet-era architectural remnants: workers with axes, women in the fields. Basically, all that was missing was a picture of Lenin, Marx or Engels. I wonder how they would have looked 'down' (no pun intended) on his whole fast food enterprise which this building is how harbouring. If I remember my political science 101 correctly, they would have said that this whole capitalist phase is a transition.
No such thing. At least from the 'outsider' point of view, the czech economy seems to be doing rather well, and frankly, the standard of living here puts many french cities to shame. Interestingly, none of the current economic woes seem to be affecting the Czech - there is no vicious cycle of food prices, despite the fact that they are importing the same petrol as we are in france and other european countries. Ironically, price levels in Prague can be compared to a much more third-worldy (yes, I know Stiglitz would not approve my terminology!) Egypt, which is witnessing some serious political upheaval as I write this over the same food prices. Other than that, and despite some insignificant echos of soviet control such as the old trams which hurry the passengers to all corners of the city, communism is certainly a thing of the past. The only other still present but disappearing charasteric is are the old-school grandmas who wear their housedresses while they are riding the same trams clutching interestingly...a range of conspicuously too-chic bags. I wonder what the local 'burberry' sells them but don't dare to ask, since Russian is clearly not on the top list of well-liked languages in Czech Republic and english/french/anything else I can manage to produce two words in does not seem to be in vogue either.
Which brigs me to my next point. Communism might be over but the mentality is there to stay, at least a little longer. From the point of view of service this, I have to admit, was slightly irritating, even when bechmarked by the given the general lack of service in france. It is not that I was craving the 'how are you today?' accompanied by a huge and equally fake smile, but just a little a little more consistency between 'new Prague' and the 'old attitude'. I would say that even in the '5 star world' of michelin guide restaurants (nota bene: if you do not know what is a michelin star, you need to come to france urgently), the service is indifferent at best. Not disdainful as in france, but indifferent. The key message was rather uniform: yes, I can get you what you want, but why are you bothering me to begin with? Same reaction when i was not speaking russian, in response to which I would always get chech under the false assumption that russian speakers understand czech.
The epitomy of the soviet mentality applied to non-soviet context was my visit to the one of the most beautiful, if not the most beautiful synagogue of europe, the spanish synagogue in prague which is ironically guarded by a sort of a nazi organisation of old ladies who literally attack if you dare to take a picture. Funnily enough, the neo-nazi in the synagogue almost made me forget the preceding tour of the old jewish getto, which as I overheard was originally built in the neighbourhood of bordels, which was the only area that would get allocated to the prague jewish community. I really wish that was the only thing I overheard on the tour of the getto, but not surprisingly that was far from it. There were the cemetery stones used to build factories in the period of deficit of materials. Most importantly, there was the quasi-totality of the jewish population which was shipped to a transit camp at Terezin which the nazi portrayed at the 'model' jewish getto, where the children were 'allowed' to receive education. Needless to say, almost no one made it out and today the so-called 'jewish neighbourhood' is jewish only from same point of view as is Yad Vashem. It is a museum of jewish life as it used to be and how it is no longer.
All that to say, there are ideologies like communism that seem to have easy-come easy-go effect on the local populations and some like nazism, that have forever coloured the past and the future. I would guess that is not how most of the locals see it, I can't help thinking that some history can be shed like old fur, and some of it is really like Kafka's metamorphosis.
A trip to Prague for me was like a trip down the memory lane, or more precisely, what could have been the memory lane. A charming town reflecting centuries of tradition, medieval conquest, and at the same time eastern European flare. Having shed communism on an as-soon-as-possible basis, Prague has witnessed an incredible re-birth, and some of the locals that actually fled the city have even come back, confessed to me one elderly inhabitant in all his bristling eagerness to practice his french. The city now rivals many of the jewels of Europe, with its red roofs and colourfully repainted façades, its symbiotic co-existence of modern art deco and medieval style architecture reminicent of Vienna.
It boasts an unusual combination of mediterranean style colourful facades and brick trottoirs, amidst romantic sculptures. In places, and thankfully not too often, it features these massive Stalin era buildings which are meant to reduce humans to ants, or at least make them feel like it. The architectural adaptation of it all is rather hilarious if looked at closer glace: during one of my city escapades, I managed to stumble on a macdo (I think it must have been already there as the berlin wall was being dismantled) featuring the all-familiar arch right under a band of Soviet-era architectural remnants: workers with axes, women in the fields. Basically, all that was missing was a picture of Lenin, Marx or Engels. I wonder how they would have looked 'down' (no pun intended) on his whole fast food enterprise which this building is how harbouring. If I remember my political science 101 correctly, they would have said that this whole capitalist phase is a transition.
No such thing. At least from the 'outsider' point of view, the czech economy seems to be doing rather well, and frankly, the standard of living here puts many french cities to shame. Interestingly, none of the current economic woes seem to be affecting the Czech - there is no vicious cycle of food prices, despite the fact that they are importing the same petrol as we are in france and other european countries. Ironically, price levels in Prague can be compared to a much more third-worldy (yes, I know Stiglitz would not approve my terminology!) Egypt, which is witnessing some serious political upheaval as I write this over the same food prices. Other than that, and despite some insignificant echos of soviet control such as the old trams which hurry the passengers to all corners of the city, communism is certainly a thing of the past. The only other still present but disappearing charasteric is are the old-school grandmas who wear their housedresses while they are riding the same trams clutching interestingly...a range of conspicuously too-chic bags. I wonder what the local 'burberry' sells them but don't dare to ask, since Russian is clearly not on the top list of well-liked languages in Czech Republic and english/french/anything else I can manage to produce two words in does not seem to be in vogue either.
Which brigs me to my next point. Communism might be over but the mentality is there to stay, at least a little longer. From the point of view of service this, I have to admit, was slightly irritating, even when bechmarked by the given the general lack of service in france. It is not that I was craving the 'how are you today?' accompanied by a huge and equally fake smile, but just a little a little more consistency between 'new Prague' and the 'old attitude'. I would say that even in the '5 star world' of michelin guide restaurants (nota bene: if you do not know what is a michelin star, you need to come to france urgently), the service is indifferent at best. Not disdainful as in france, but indifferent. The key message was rather uniform: yes, I can get you what you want, but why are you bothering me to begin with? Same reaction when i was not speaking russian, in response to which I would always get chech under the false assumption that russian speakers understand czech.
The epitomy of the soviet mentality applied to non-soviet context was my visit to the one of the most beautiful, if not the most beautiful synagogue of europe, the spanish synagogue in prague which is ironically guarded by a sort of a nazi organisation of old ladies who literally attack if you dare to take a picture. Funnily enough, the neo-nazi in the synagogue almost made me forget the preceding tour of the old jewish getto, which as I overheard was originally built in the neighbourhood of bordels, which was the only area that would get allocated to the prague jewish community. I really wish that was the only thing I overheard on the tour of the getto, but not surprisingly that was far from it. There were the cemetery stones used to build factories in the period of deficit of materials. Most importantly, there was the quasi-totality of the jewish population which was shipped to a transit camp at Terezin which the nazi portrayed at the 'model' jewish getto, where the children were 'allowed' to receive education. Needless to say, almost no one made it out and today the so-called 'jewish neighbourhood' is jewish only from same point of view as is Yad Vashem. It is a museum of jewish life as it used to be and how it is no longer.
All that to say, there are ideologies like communism that seem to have easy-come easy-go effect on the local populations and some like nazism, that have forever coloured the past and the future. I would guess that is not how most of the locals see it, I can't help thinking that some history can be shed like old fur, and some of it is really like Kafka's metamorphosis.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Chag Sameach everyone!
As I am struggling to keep the pesach rites this year and convince myself that the matzah that I manage to find in the local supermarket does not taste like the very cardboard it is packaged in (no it doesn't, no it doesn't), I came across some interesting materials on what constitutes proper kosher for passover. For a non carnivore that I am, it does not leave much for imagination. Or for dinner for that matter. after 2 days of staying away from my local boulangerie, I finally headed to the local supermarket in the hopes of scoring some matzah.
Even with my new glasses adjusting to my ever declining sightsight, I did not manage to locate the precious substance. So in all my naivité, I decided to resort to the store clerk, you know these guys in red t-shirts that do not speak any language you can speak and that cannot tell the difference between canned pears and peas. Oh wait, that was in England. there they have to hire the maximum because people cost cheaper than machines.
In any case, I locate the clerk (I think North African) and work up the courage the ask him stright in the face where is the hidden jewel of his store - the kosher isle! with a little delay it took him to process my request, he escorted me to the ethnic food section where he suggested that between the mexican and the lebanese i shall find anything my heart desires. ah bon? I didn't realise mexicans cared much for kosher guacomole but then there are things I still discover. and as for lebanese hummus, with all do respect, why would they make it kosher? Surely not to target the population of the one or two remaining synagogues in Beirut. And I guess neither to increase their export revenues to Israel. Having processed all these confusing thoughts and emotions I decided to go for it: where is your matzah?
And this is when, once and for all, I lost the guy. this was clearly not part of his trainig. I guess he didn't get get to the diversity module in his HR drill. Little does he know, that on the other side of the world, a population of approximately 800,000 people in Israel is creating a market for kosher cell phones. If you don't believe it read on http://www.iht.com/articles/2007/11/02/africa/kosher.php
And just to clarify any possible confusion that could arise out of this admittedly rather confused post, please note that it is not an attempt to bash the local store clerks but to provide a consumer warning. If you find yourself in the kosher cell phone network, you will not be able to call your favourite call girl. or boy. oh boy!
As I am struggling to keep the pesach rites this year and convince myself that the matzah that I manage to find in the local supermarket does not taste like the very cardboard it is packaged in (no it doesn't, no it doesn't), I came across some interesting materials on what constitutes proper kosher for passover. For a non carnivore that I am, it does not leave much for imagination. Or for dinner for that matter. after 2 days of staying away from my local boulangerie, I finally headed to the local supermarket in the hopes of scoring some matzah.
Even with my new glasses adjusting to my ever declining sightsight, I did not manage to locate the precious substance. So in all my naivité, I decided to resort to the store clerk, you know these guys in red t-shirts that do not speak any language you can speak and that cannot tell the difference between canned pears and peas. Oh wait, that was in England. there they have to hire the maximum because people cost cheaper than machines.
In any case, I locate the clerk (I think North African) and work up the courage the ask him stright in the face where is the hidden jewel of his store - the kosher isle! with a little delay it took him to process my request, he escorted me to the ethnic food section where he suggested that between the mexican and the lebanese i shall find anything my heart desires. ah bon? I didn't realise mexicans cared much for kosher guacomole but then there are things I still discover. and as for lebanese hummus, with all do respect, why would they make it kosher? Surely not to target the population of the one or two remaining synagogues in Beirut. And I guess neither to increase their export revenues to Israel. Having processed all these confusing thoughts and emotions I decided to go for it: where is your matzah?
And this is when, once and for all, I lost the guy. this was clearly not part of his trainig. I guess he didn't get get to the diversity module in his HR drill. Little does he know, that on the other side of the world, a population of approximately 800,000 people in Israel is creating a market for kosher cell phones. If you don't believe it read on http://www.iht.com/articles/2007/11/02/africa/kosher.php
And just to clarify any possible confusion that could arise out of this admittedly rather confused post, please note that it is not an attempt to bash the local store clerks but to provide a consumer warning. If you find yourself in the kosher cell phone network, you will not be able to call your favourite call girl. or boy. oh boy!
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
No need to read sci-fi novels to travel in time. No need for a time machine to bring you from our blackberry obsessed, technologically exhausted times to a world of medieval achitecture, traditional cuisine, and remarkable costumes. The annual Venetian carnaval offers all that. A carnaval worthy of its name, it is not merely a combustion of colourful costumes worn by an alcohol infused crowd, but more like a theater, a conversation between the present and the past. A conversation that to me looked like one which could take place between a renaissance artist and a cubist - what I would tend to qualify as a misunderstanding. Renaissance Venice meeting cubist, simplistic modernity where we are all dressed in the same made in China GAP or H&M or something of the like outfits, where the art of conversation is no longer 'art', and where simplicity has definitely won the war over complexity.
Welcome to Place St. Mark, the epicenter of Venice, the nexus of the routes of the gondolas and the vaporetti, offering an unparalleled setting for the carnaval - a perimeter so frozen in time that even the French architecture in comparison shocks the eye as a modern construction. More like a piece of theatre, during the Venice carnaval the locals masquerade in mediaval costumes, in couples constituted as much of traditional as of gay couples or singles: posing, parading, whispering to each other, throwing mysterious glances around the crowd. Welcome to the Venice of the 17th, 18th or 19th centuries. On these grey, otherwise unremarkable February days, I felt to be a part of history. Not of the history that our generation has created for the next, but that of the last thankfully preserved for us.
The spirit of the event is nothing like North American carnavals which typically end with (at least one) post-mortem in the local paper explaining that the police is on the hunt for a representative of the gang x who shot a representative of gang y. In Venice, the only guns are costume props and the only 'gangs' the myriad of paparazzi-acting tourists chasing after the personified history. At Cafe Florian, built in the early 18th century, the corseted mesdames were sipping tea next to very gay and proudly posing gentlemen drinking the best hot chocolate of the city, if not Italy. Across the place, a local was posing as a Van Gogh. Two maters away, in front of the St Marc basilica, a play was unfolding, which, due to my rather inexistent Italian, I must confess not to have followed.
Reminiscing back at the Carnaval, I cannot help but feel exactly the same way as looking at a recent exhibit of Phoenician civilisation in Paris. How is that what we call 'progress' does not seem to find an echo in the reality of modernity? And secondly, how is that 'progress' has so quickly retreated from the civilisations so historically advanced? Is it really the mass manufactured textiles that no matter where in the world one finds them, say 'made in China', that our generation will be remembered for? Will we be remembered for the electronic tools and gadgets that allow us to communicate with everyone at the same time without saying anything to anyone? Or better even, without saying something to those we should? Will we be remembered for the cubist paintings some of which one passes in Tate Modern without having any idea as to where even begin to appreciate this kind of art? Or better even, pretending to appreciate it because it is 'in'?
Of course I am aware that in saying so I am failing to appreciate all the inventions and architectural innovation, the new artistic directions and the amazing advances in some areas such as cinematography. It just looks like these advances have somehow come at a cost of 'high art', of uniqueness, of the very idea of suffering for beauty. Now, no one needs to suffer for 'beauty' as has been deconstructed by the modern art movement which teaches us to appreciate the 'simplicity of modern' lines (i.e. 5 year old colouring skills). No one needs to appreciate elaborate clothing designs since the former have been mimicked to death and over-reproduced by the influx of cheap exports. Too tempting is the example a louis vitton bag outside selling of that same place St. Mark on the magic carpet of an African immigrant for 20 euros.
I suppose we can be thankful that in spite all the wars which have engulfed Europe and its various kingdoms and clans, destroyed its cities and replaced entire civilisations, certain traditions remain constant. Amid the constantness of certain cities: Pizzas, gondolas, biscotti, and last but not least, the grumpy Italians that are more fed up with their beloved city being drowned by a wave of tourists than by those real waves of the sea. I suppose they are paying the price of remaining an archipelago of tradition in our otherwise modernity obsessed word. Little do they realise how much of an endangered species they are. For who really knows when the traditional costumes be replaced by above touched up images of something far more perfect but far less historic? And if you believe that might be a threat, I just have one question. See you at place St. Marc next February? Rain or sun.
Welcome to Place St. Mark, the epicenter of Venice, the nexus of the routes of the gondolas and the vaporetti, offering an unparalleled setting for the carnaval - a perimeter so frozen in time that even the French architecture in comparison shocks the eye as a modern construction. More like a piece of theatre, during the Venice carnaval the locals masquerade in mediaval costumes, in couples constituted as much of traditional as of gay couples or singles: posing, parading, whispering to each other, throwing mysterious glances around the crowd. Welcome to the Venice of the 17th, 18th or 19th centuries. On these grey, otherwise unremarkable February days, I felt to be a part of history. Not of the history that our generation has created for the next, but that of the last thankfully preserved for us.
The spirit of the event is nothing like North American carnavals which typically end with (at least one) post-mortem in the local paper explaining that the police is on the hunt for a representative of the gang x who shot a representative of gang y. In Venice, the only guns are costume props and the only 'gangs' the myriad of paparazzi-acting tourists chasing after the personified history. At Cafe Florian, built in the early 18th century, the corseted mesdames were sipping tea next to very gay and proudly posing gentlemen drinking the best hot chocolate of the city, if not Italy. Across the place, a local was posing as a Van Gogh. Two maters away, in front of the St Marc basilica, a play was unfolding, which, due to my rather inexistent Italian, I must confess not to have followed.
Reminiscing back at the Carnaval, I cannot help but feel exactly the same way as looking at a recent exhibit of Phoenician civilisation in Paris. How is that what we call 'progress' does not seem to find an echo in the reality of modernity? And secondly, how is that 'progress' has so quickly retreated from the civilisations so historically advanced? Is it really the mass manufactured textiles that no matter where in the world one finds them, say 'made in China', that our generation will be remembered for? Will we be remembered for the electronic tools and gadgets that allow us to communicate with everyone at the same time without saying anything to anyone? Or better even, without saying something to those we should? Will we be remembered for the cubist paintings some of which one passes in Tate Modern without having any idea as to where even begin to appreciate this kind of art? Or better even, pretending to appreciate it because it is 'in'?
Of course I am aware that in saying so I am failing to appreciate all the inventions and architectural innovation, the new artistic directions and the amazing advances in some areas such as cinematography. It just looks like these advances have somehow come at a cost of 'high art', of uniqueness, of the very idea of suffering for beauty. Now, no one needs to suffer for 'beauty' as has been deconstructed by the modern art movement which teaches us to appreciate the 'simplicity of modern' lines (i.e. 5 year old colouring skills). No one needs to appreciate elaborate clothing designs since the former have been mimicked to death and over-reproduced by the influx of cheap exports. Too tempting is the example a louis vitton bag outside selling of that same place St. Mark on the magic carpet of an African immigrant for 20 euros.
I suppose we can be thankful that in spite all the wars which have engulfed Europe and its various kingdoms and clans, destroyed its cities and replaced entire civilisations, certain traditions remain constant. Amid the constantness of certain cities: Pizzas, gondolas, biscotti, and last but not least, the grumpy Italians that are more fed up with their beloved city being drowned by a wave of tourists than by those real waves of the sea. I suppose they are paying the price of remaining an archipelago of tradition in our otherwise modernity obsessed word. Little do they realise how much of an endangered species they are. For who really knows when the traditional costumes be replaced by above touched up images of something far more perfect but far less historic? And if you believe that might be a threat, I just have one question. See you at place St. Marc next February? Rain or sun.
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