Ministry of Ridiculous Affairs

My taxi driver, marinating in sweat, visibly exhausted from moving with a speed of a handicapped snail, honking at everyone and everything stationary, and even cursing in his nasal Arabic, put on the handbreak and closed his eyes. Technically he didn't even close his eyes, they just closed, as if he had allergic reaction to everything surrounding him. I understood virtually nothing from what he has been mumbling since this painful journey started, but feel reassured by a running counter - a phenomenon much more rare in this country than donkeys jumping in front of taxis on the highway, as I discovered a day earlier.

The odours of local taxis - let's just call them uninviting - despite the air conditioner blasting something that smells like molded carpet, I would rather this trip end. But no such thing. The driver insistently repeats Mubarak and if I didn't know the name I would think he is talking about his wife who he just surprised with his neighbour in bed. The tenderness is just not there. And then, as all the men in the cars surrounding us had an opportunity to examine me from every angle, we slowly creep up past the Shoura council or the equivalent of the Parliament in Egypt.

In the Middle East, parliamentary bodies if they can be so considered, always bear interesting names. I found the Shoura council already more dignified than the Diwans found in the Gulf countries, which literally translates into "sofa" for the sofa on which the Ministers (tribal chiefs) debate their future of their oil fiefdoms. Parliaments aside, I finally put the Mubarak and the Shoura council together and a little light bulb goes off in my head: all roads were closed because Mubarak is travelling to the Parliament meeting. I have to admit I did not see him in person from my behind the trucks, donkeys and military cars, and yet I have a sentiment that I almost have since his smiling photo in rather stylish black shades is plastered everywhere. Like Madonna's videos from fifteen years ago, the only way you could ever know his photo is as ancient as the pyramids is that the sunglasses are slightly out of style by now.

Suddenly, my driver opens his eyes and the car makes a little leap forward - the physical effect seems as abrupt as if we were on a donkey. I have to admit that this I am imaging, since riding donkeys is not exactly the prevalent means of transport in Paris. And as the car finally moves towards my hotel, I wake up as well and start peering out of my window - this is my revenge to all locals tacking x-ray looks at me when we were stuck in traffic. At least we are even at the end. The ironic thing is that in the bizarre and incredible history of this city, it is difficult for the eye to know where to stop: is it on the bread salesman yelling something, on the mosque towering with its imposing minarets, on the man smoking shisha, on the homeless cat or on the equally homeless kid maneuvering through the traffic to sell water bottles?

My eye stopped on a building, once probably white, now brown with dust, whose title proudly said something along the lines of Women and Family Affairs. Perhaps that translates more elegantly in Arabic, but it got me thinking about the ridiculousness of this title. Imagine an institution called the Ministry of Men and Sexual Affairs? Or better even, the Ministry of Male Activities and Unemployment? At least the latter would more correctly correspond to the local realities. And for those who think that government bodies focusing on "woman issues" are not a waste likely to accuse me of cynicism right about now, I think officially this Ministry no longer exists, the local authorities probably just forgot to adjust the name tag. In any case, if you ask me, a good part of " woman affairs" in Egypt could be aptly addressed by the Ministry of Education, seeing as 60% of woman are still illiterate.

To be fair, it is not only Egypt or other Middle Eastern countries that have Ministries of Ridiculous Affairs. Upon my return from Cairo, I did some googling and it turns out this is worth a good comedy piece. The list is long, so I will refrain from providing any colourful commentary. Saudi Arabia has a Ministry of Pilgrimage (but no Ministry of Woman Affairs - at least the priorities are clear). On the other hand, both Chile and New Zealand turn out to have a Minister of Woman Affairs. In the case of the latter, the site of the Ministry notes that it is the smallest government Ministry in the country, employing only 40 staff. Conclusion: either they have no "woman issues" in New Zealand or these people must be terribly efficient.

Another country with a newly established Ministry dedicated to women - how thoughtful!- is the Islamic Republic of Afghanistan. Its website features photos that no words can describe so I suggest you see for yourself. Working against the Taliban is not one of its stated objectives, I guess the Ministry of Defence is working on that already. Last but not least, last year Venezuela's Chavez announced that he is going to establish a woman's affairs ministry and - get this - give it a budget. I've never heard of budgetless ministries, but then I guess I've never been to Venezuela.

And the list of Ministries of Ridiculous Affairs does not stop at women. Liechtenstein has a Minister of Foreign, Affairs, Culture and Justice. If I didn't know better, I would imagine Liechtenstein was particularly touched by the financial crisis and decided to amalgamate all its ministeries into a Superpower Ministry. It is more understandable in the case of Greece which has the posts of the Prime Minister and Minister of Foreign Affairs are combined. Slovenia has a state secretary for Education and Sport as if the two had anything in common. It's almost as if the message is that if one has no education, well, then there are always sports. I don't think this equation would work in reverse direction. India has a number of Ministries with less than predictable names such as Ministry of Fertilisers.

The interesting fact - and a rather unpredictable one - is that India with all its complexity, cast, linguistic and otherwise of its over one billion strong population has a less cumbersome government structure than France with just 60 million. France beats India outright with 7 more Ministries for a fraction of its population. If I didn't know any better, I would think that the Indian civil service is remarkably efficient or that France is that much difficult to govern! Surprising at it may be, here in France, we have over 40 Ministers, Cabinet and otherwise.

To give him credit, Sarkozy has recently announced that in an effort to trim its fat government, French Cabinet Ministers will be limited to 20 councilors each and not one more. It goes without saying that Sarkozy himself will not be making any staff cuts at the Elysee. The message is clear: Elysee does not need to be trimmed. It seems that it has not occurred to our dear President to examine the long list of French Ministries and instead of sacking the councilors, to actually merge the Ministries! One idea, which appears rather evident, would be to merge the Ministry of Health and Sport and Ministry of Youth and Sport.

Others, at least judging by their titles, are so irrelevant that if the no longer existed, I doubt that even my neighbours dog would notice. Several examples jump to mind here: Ministry of War Veterans (how many of them are still alive?), Ministry of Equal Opportunities (that's just an oxymoron in this country), Ministry of Parliament Relations (clearly a uniquely French invention), and last but not least Ministry of Economic Stimulus (seems like the Ministry of Economy and Finance would be entirely apt to providing economic stimulus where needed).

"Princes, brokers, and bureaucrats" a book recently published by a friend on the political economy of Saudi Arabia argues that some Ministries were set up just to address rivalries between princes and to make sure that everyone had a little fiefdom to preside over. I cannot help but wonder how France might be different. Whether in developing or developed countries, the Ministries of Ridiculous Affairs are flourishing. At least in Saudi Arabia where there are no income taxes, I guess no one can complain about waste of public finances. In France, where the results of the work of Ministry of Equal Opportunities cannot be found even under a microscope and where the big plans of the Ministry of Economic Stimulus still leave the average salary at a pathetic 1200 euros, I can - for once - understand my grumpy compatriots.