24 Dec 2011

Activism through philately

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[Picture stolen from Google. I wrote this for Bespoke. Discussion with Nader Abuljebain, author of “Palestinian History in Postage Stamps”]

Nader Khairiddine Abuljebain is a man of stories, with a gamut hidden away in his repertoire. But where many would choose the conventional medium of worlds to express themselves, Abuljebain decided to put together a history in stamps. His book “Palestinian History in Postage Stamps” is one of the first to examine the history of a troubled people through an exclusively Arab, bilingual commentary through postage stamps. For Abuljebain is both an ardent philatelist and activist for Palestinian rights, and realized the ideal project would be a synthesis of the two. 

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24 Dec 2011

A haven for the arts

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Let’s assume for a second that you’re homing in on Barsha on the back of a giant bird. From afar, you see a cross-section of living and shopping spaces, with apartments and villas rubbing corners with little shops, restaurants, and hypermarkets. The Mall of the Emirates, with its protruding ski slope, slides into view as retail lynchpin.

Hover a bit closer and you realize Barsha is a community humming and bustling in its own right. People mill around, cars honk and there are the inevitable traffic jams. From your perch in the sky, you linger over busy street corners. Just a few turns away, villas sit slouching in the very epitome of languor.

As a strictly amateur thespian, comedian, and general noisemaker, I find the arts scene in Barsha figuring ever more prominently within my schedule. And that’s largely due to two enterprises: DUCTAC and the Jam Jar.

Nestled in the Mall of the Emirates, the DUCTAC theatre is home to an artsy generality of people of all ages - some as tiny as kneecap-biting five or six. It offers lessons in music, comedy, tap dance, improv, writing and Arabic, and there is theatre space for all manner of performances. From little girls dressed in pink tutus to people carrying a menacing array of props and scripts, DUCTAC is home for everyone with even a fibre of interest in the arts. Within DUCTAC operate the indomitable duo of Ali Al Sayed and Mina Liccione, the founders of Dubomedy. Mina is an ex-Broadway tap queen and comedienne, and Ali a world-class purveyor of comedy in his own right. I’m currently dabbling in stand-up comedy classes with them, and thoroughly enjoying the bonhomie and camaraderie.

Then, if you were to gain some altitude, and look across to the other side of the Umm Suqeim road dividing Barsha from Al Quoz, you would see the Jam Jar hidden between rows of identical warehouses. Technically, it’s on the wrong side of the street to be considered Barsha. But its influence and proximity means it deserves honorary mention.

One of the true pioneers of Dubai’s homegrown arts scene, it caters to a wide variety of events- musical performances, theatre, and arts exhibitions. It’s a communal space that’s easily accessible, and the all-girl team is genuinely enthusiastic about arts and culture. The Jam Jar, in some manner or other, has been involved with many of the seminal arts and culture events in Dubai and even Abu Dhabi. I have memories of several happy evenings and afternoons there.

Between the Jam Jar and DUCTAC, Barsha’s denizens can rest assured there will always be artsy endeavors to soothe the soul.

2 Nov 2011

Abu Dhabi Film Festival 2011: Short dreams

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Short films have always had their place in the history of film. In particular, 20th-century cinema had the feature attraction preceded by shorts. These were replaced by ads and coming attractions by the commercial realities of Hollywood, where every second of reel time must be monetised.

But the short film is far from dead, particularly in the Middle East and the UAE, where it fits in well with the local tradition of storytelling. Alice Kharoubi, Project Manager and selector for the Abu Dhabi Film Festival's (ADFF) Short Film Competition, believes there's increasing funding available, and also more encouragement for new directors.

Interesting viewpoints

The International Short Film Competition at the ADFF showcased 31 films from the world over, ranging from three minutes to more than thirty. "We've chosen films that offer interesting viewpoints from a variety of sociocultural reference points, and ideas we believe our audiences will appreciate," Kharoub said. The showcased films were at a high level, both conceptually and in terms of quality. "In previous years, some of the shorts we've shown at ADFF have gone on to win Oscar nominations. Many of the directors have gone on to expand their repertoire and make full-length features," she noted.

"The UAE market is relatively new to the idea of short films, but short films do well here," she said. "They have the advantage of offering interesting viewpoints from a gamut of sources, and encouraging the audience down the corridors of romance, comedy, drama, tragedy and dreamlike surrealism."

An excellent example of a surreal, dream-like sequence was Jean Sebastien Chauvin's And They Climbed The Mountain with a running time of thirty-three minutes. A couple is stranded in the middle of what could be utopia, with pristine landscapes that are lovingly explored through wide-angle shots. Yet they find a phone — the most alien of artefacts in such a deserted paradise — which leads to palpable dread and a sense of impending misfortune.

Simple idea

Director Chauvin says his inspiration for a film usually comes from a simple idea that he then adds layers of complexity to. "In my film, the starting point is a situation the couple find themselves in — of finding a phone in the middle of nowhere. The entire movie revolves around this basic tenet."

Director Marwan Khneisser presented Short Memory, a powerful critique of civilian life and death, and the disproportionate firepower used in Israel's bombardment of Lebanon in 2006. Talking about the film's abrupt yet haunting ending, Khneisser said, "I made my film based on one of the most heartless incidents occurring during the 2006 war. I wanted people to be aware of the nature of such war crimes [committed by Israel]." The film offered a charming snapshot of urban life in cramped quarters before war inevitably disrupted all. Khneisser believes the vertical nature of his shots is an ideal complement to the lively yet claustrophobic nature of Beirut life.

Common yet complex

Norway's Henning Roenlund was another director whose work featured in the ADFF Short Film Competition. His film A Marriage narrated the tale of a Russian woman marrying a Norwegian man, and is a study in interjecting nuance into stereotype.

"Such marriages are fairly commonplace, due in part to high Russian immigration, and come with their own baggage of stereotyping. The woman is often described as opportunistic, or the man as looking for cheap gratification. Of course, real life is far more ambiguous, and my film tries to examine these complexities."

For Laila Bouzid, director of Tunisian film Mkhobbi Fi Kobba, inspiration for a film can often be a case of identifying a true story and building a rich narrative around that. Her moving film depicted the sexist standards and violence often inherent to patriarchal society.

Kharroubi has been Project Manager for ADFF's Short Film Competition for the past five year. She's seen interest grow in her section, and noted that short films are becoming more commercially accepted. The ADFF is capitalising on this by adding new award categories. "This year, we've added the award category for Best Producer from the Arab World to go with the Best Producer internationally."

Broadcasting

She believes the next step is for broadcast TV to realise the viability of broadcasting short films. "We've recently worked with OSN to broadcast some short films, and we hope the trend will continue. Introducing short films to TV audiences will give them a greater diversity of entertainment, and help directors become better known," she said.

The short film can be a platform that is rewarding for both audience and filmmakers. Its truncated nature means less time and place to tell stories, which helps directors distil narrative down to basics. For audiences, the short film can produce ideas scintillating yet simple, capable of exploding with pristine clarity in the mind — rather like the coruscating light bulbs that populate Juan Pablo Zaramella's short film Luminaris. From the funny to the harsh, surreal to the pertinent, short films need not pander to Hollywood's often vacuous commerciality just yet. As Director Nash Edgerton of Bear put it, "Most of my short films are borne of a simple repetitive thought or dream. I make films to share that thought with others."

— Hisham Wyne is UAE-based freelance writer

2 Nov 2011

Remembering Naujib Mahfouz at ADFF

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Naujib Mahfouz, Egypt’s celebrated novelist and master short story writer whose oeuvre also encompassed scriptwriting, would have been hundred had he been alive today. The Nobel Peace Prize winner produced a body of work credited with some of the best writing not just in Arabic but possibly in any language. His work has had a profound impact on the world of contemporary Arab literature and cinema. To honour his hundredth birthday, the Abu Dhabi Film Festival is hosting commemorative events and screenings of some of his best known films.

 

Mahfouz was a product of the Egyptian revolution of 1919, a rebellion against British rule that engendered new individualism and identity in Egyptian hearts and minds. His early years saw a new Egypt that had won independence from British rule in 1922. There is curious symmetry in that Mahfouz’s hundredth birthday also falls on a revolution where Egypt is once again negotiating its identity.

 

At a panel discussion marking Maufhuz’s contribution to cinema, Egyptian critic Kamal Ramzi said, “Mahfouz gave us a common language of literature, and metaphors we could share. Through his novels and scripts, he enrolled us in a school of life that taught us what universities couldn’t. His brilliance as a writer was in bringing his characters to succinct life, and he always left clues that allowed actors to do justice to the roles he created.”

 

Mahfouz, the veritable man of cinema, had an early introduction to the screen. Since the age of seven, he used to accompany his nanny to the cinema. He’s been known to write about the agony of watching a film end and a story finish. Those moments were among the unhappiest of his life, when the characters and their stories disappeared into a roll of credits.  Not only did Mahfouz write for cinema, he also wrote about cinema – his books are peppered with cinematic references. “The importance of cinema is reflected in Mahfouz’s writing. He often uses techniques like parallel montages, and flashbacks, which are techniques inherent to the world of film,” said critic Samir Farid.

 

The Abu Dhabi Film Festival is showing some of Mahfouz’s classic works, including The Beginning And The End (Bidaya wa Nihaya) as well as its contemporary reinterpretation ‘Principio y fin’ set in Mexico, Between Heaven And Earth (Bayn el Sama wa el Ard) and The Thief And The Dogs (Al Lis wa Al Kilab).

 

Mahfouz enriched the world of cinema as he did of books. His work speaks volumes of his attachment to Cairo, to Egyptian culture, and the new flame of identity post independence from British rule in 1922. A very happy hundredth birthday to the man of cinema and letters.

 

 

2 Nov 2011

No one wants anarchy on their doorstep

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No one wants anarchy on their doorstep

Oct 21st 2011

If one were to tell you that you could defeat an ardent foe but would then need to feed their large family and keep their feral offspring from raiding your larder, would that be an idea to entice you? No one wants a wolf of their own making at their doorstep baying the arrival of winter.

It’s therapeutic applying the same logic to Pakistan’s prospects, and the supposed legions out to sabotage us. For instance, it’s been drilled into us ad nauseum since independence that India wants to squash us and use our eyeballs to bake bread. Admittedly, wars have occurred in the past, when there was more parity of power. At current juncture though, we have little that India could covet. Then of course, there’s that argument that Americans want to neutralize our fantastically manly nukes and strategically castrate us.

Of course, per norm, what most haven’t considered are the ramifications. Consider this: a full-blown invasion by America occurs; and our utterly glorious forces are quickly defeated in battle – with the caveat emptor that their radars were under maintenance or were switched off, that the Fauji cornflakes were laced with soporifics that morning, or what have you (refer to a certain raid in Abbotabad in May for the entire litany of excuses). What then? At the very least, one would run into Iraq-like scenes; and while many will no doubt run to busts and portraits of Zardari to preserve them for future auction at Christie’s once his sainthood is papally sanctified, those better prepared will make for arms caches and help themselves to some good stuff of the radioactive kind. Yes, your friendly superpower will have contingencies in place for this, but the idea of them believing all possible sites could be secured without leakage is frankly ludicrous. And so, America, by their very actions would arm anarchistic groups with the possible wherewithal of making American life very miserable.

One can also imagine India’s dismay. What was once a somewhat dysfunctional state on its borders will have suddenly turned into a delightful free-for all where all strategy is useless. The problem with strategy as expounded by Sun Tzu and Machiavelli is it always assumes the enemy as rational. And by rational, one mean capable not just of coherent thought but also concerted action. Multiple groups leaves practical rationality adrift, because there is no overriding writ.  So India, rather than tangoing with a foe it knows and comprehends, is suddenly left dealing with factions that do what they want when they want, based on whim and impulse, for they already have precious little left to lose.

No one wants a dead Pakistan. No one- not even India – wants a Pakistan so incapacitated it can’t keep itself in partial order. Despite all the jingoism, even if India has the military might to skewer Pakistan in half, what might it achieve by following through? It’d only have more states to add to the ones it can barely manage as is.

Flippancy aside, our purported carcass would turn into an excellent playground for opportunists. This will include Russia and China, who’d quickly extend influence into the failed state. It’s easy to see how America won’t be happy with that. Iran will quickly mobilize its resources too, which would leave Saudi Arabia in conniptions. And all this will be happening on India’s borders. Not a good outcome for that erstwhile neighbour.

Yes, India is undoubtedly sponsoring the Baloch insurgency, but that’s only to keep us sufficiently busy that we can’t stir things up in Kashmir. And America is clumsily plying pressure any way it can, because it’s petrified of an explosive Afghanistan once it inevitably pulls out prematurely, rather like a poorly performing lover. It’s all realpolitik. But that doesn’t mean the world is out to get us.

Au contraire, the reason we keep limping along regardless of an economy that looks a wheel short compared to a unicycle, and a leadership that makes Billy the Kid look like Mother Teresa, is that the entire world is united in at least one thing – Pakistan must be kept afloat at any rate. So the next time one brings up the idea of an existential threat from America, India, or the bogeyman du jour, it might be a good idea to tell them that a Pakistan limping is far preferable for all concerned to one irrevocably broken.

 

 

 

 

 

12 Oct 2011

The name won't be Khan

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The column was written for the Express Tribune, and was published October: 9th. 2011. It can be found here.


Of late, there has been much ado over the prospects of the PTI and a certain Mr. Khan in the next general elections. There have been the pragmatic who insist that Mr. Khan’s idyllic, idealistic appeal makes for a good anthem call, but fails in the negotiated murk of implementation. Then there are those who say Mr. Khan’s whim and vigor yielded the unlikeliest of results on the cricket pitch in 92: it’s not too much to hope for a similar upheaval in status quo in the political outfield.

These arguments, though well-meaning and for the most part fairly adroit, are also unfortunately irrelevant. For it isn’t Khan’s bona fides that one must worry about, but that the system of electoral machinations is vehemently against the outsider.

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12 Oct 2011

Watching people watching you

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This was written for Read, the Dubai Metro newspaper. Picture courtesy @JoeAkkawi. 

The Metro has been a boon for ferrying masses of people from one end of the city to the other. Destinations along the Sheikh Zayed Road, once a nightmare of tight parking and competitive honking, have become convenient to the point that one can pull on a pair of pyjamas, stick a NOL card into the waistband, and head off.

There’s other value to the Metro: it offers a slice of fashion trends as it passes through Dubai. You realize how the fashion scape inside the compartments change as you head away from the centre of the city to the newer southbound developments. Emblems on shirts get larger, and collars get more popped.

There are always a few regulars on any given journey. For instance, the gentleman in the polo shirt and the wrap around Oakley shades. You can’t ever meet his eye, and so spend the entire time wondering whether he’s looking to see if you’re looking to see if he’s looking at you.

There’s usually the smartly dressed corporate man or woman, sometimes with a Kindle as an accessory. London’s tube might merit books - but Dubai likes its gadgetry. Why carry around dead trees when a thin plastic sleeve holds thousands of novels and autobiographies?

Tourists are always easily identifiable in their shorts and loose t-shirts. They’re dressed not to impress, but to combat the heat. Then there’s always at least one quirky passenger with an awesome head of cornrows or bracelets galore. People embark, people get off, and the fashion scene changes by the minute.

People watching on the Metro is my new favourite activity. It’s not just transport, but shared space where we can all be us.
4 Sep 2011

London is not Cairo, and Cameron not Mubarak

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Published in the Express Tribune on August 19th 2011 here.

I had promised myself that I was going to let it be. That I was going to write nothing about the London riots. Because more than enough had been written about a bunch of idiots who’d set a city aflame while opportunistically bagging sneakers and bicycles while gutting neighbourhood businesses. Because Marxist meta-narratives of exclusion are all well and good, but rioting without purpose is still rioting without purpose.

Besides, George Fulton, the outsider-insider, who reconciles worlds diplomatically, had already adroitly written truth to power: in Karachi, they burn tires for paani and atta — not plasmas and Adidas.

But then the news cycle intervened. The constant drumbeat of punditry makes everyone rise up to profess insight. It encourages people to comment, occasionally, blatantly, carelessly. Mona Eltahawy, a prominent commentator on the Arab Spring, recentlywrote a piece for The Guardian that reeks of complacent comparison. She sets about pleading with UK Prime Minister David Cameron to not become like Hosni Mubarak, Egypt’s dictatorial ex-president, in putting his own people to the sword conveniently forgetting that, neither was a single tear gas canister fired to stop the London riots, nor a sole rubber bullet. While in Tahrir Square, people died by tank shell, sprayed bullets and the unerring aim of sniper scopes.

Eltahawy, thankfully, did not equate the Tahrir square protesters to the London yob mob, but other commentators haven’t been as graceful. However, she did insinuate that David Cameron and ilk were similar to Mubarak. Not because they’d sent troops to crush protesters, because obviously they hadn’t. Not because the secret police was viciously beating up the rioters. Not because David Cameron had accused non-state agents and terrorists of orchestrating riots before asking the army to open fire. No, her point of comparison was Cameron complaining that the looters were using social media and suggesting that access perhaps be restricted. And his suggestion of water cannons for crowd control: obviously a complete assault on people’s freedom of gathering and looting in the quest for beer and chips. How very Mubarak of Cameron. How dare he?

Forgetting, of course, that none of these measures have been enacted or are expected to. That Cameron can’t restrict the internet on a whim — the UK is a democracy with checks and balances. Also forgetting that the businesses owners being looted, the families of those killed, and most sane citizens caught up in the mess, were in fact screaming for more assertive action to stop London from burning. That people were expressing displeasure at the lack of hard policing and asking for the rioters to be held accountable. That the rioters had no political motivations and barely any economic ones. They were just being parasitical and capricious. Fight for your rights, Eltahawy exhorts the UK. Yes, indeed. Fight for your stolen HD TVs too, while you’re at it.

Let’s all leave the Arab Spring alone, shall we? It has yet to sort itself out in any meaningful way and needs to reach conclusions about itself. What the Spring doesn’t need are cases of ridiculous equivalence.

So, no, Israel’s recent demonstrations against the cost of living are not a Tahrir moment. They’re simply economic protests and strikes. And no, the London riots don’t indicate the power of the people, and strength of the street. They only indicate how far some would go when law and order begins to break down. And no, Cameron is most certainly not Mubarak; he can’t impose his will on anyone without due process. And no, anti-Nato dharnas in Pakistan are not the same as uprisings in Syria or Libya.

But if the burning desire to compare situations to others remains unquenched, might I suggest comparing the London riots to France’s suburban unrest of 2005, 2009 and 2010 where unemployed men destroyed property out of a sense of anger, disenfranchisement and marginalisation. Their anger was potent, but also misdirected and selfish. In the end, the violence only gutted communities already at risk of becoming ghettos. Sound familiar?

13 Aug 2011

The perils of journalism in Pakistan

This article was written for the Doha Centre for Media Freedom, and can be found here. The image is from DCMF.  

The perils of journalism in Pakistan

Journalists in Pakistan describe the dangers they encounter while reporting and attempt to explain the intense level of intimidation. 
 
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Pakistani journalists shout slogans during a protest in Karachi in June calling for more media freedom after Saleem Shahzad, a notable reporter, was murdered

Blindfolded, with hands cuffed behind his back, he was led up the stairs to a first floor room. There, his shirt was torn off, and his trousers removed. He was thrown face down onto the floor. The assailants whipped his bare back for 25 minutes with a leather strap, or a ‘chabuk’ in Urdu. It can be soaked in water or oil, depending on whether the torturer needs it to cut flesh, or skim and punish. There was a cane thrown in for nuance - it does a better job of causing deep bruising to muscle and tissue.

The victim was Omar Cheema, an investigative reporter for The News, a Pakistani daily. He was assaulted in 2011.

Omar Cheema’s story is not new. In Pakistan, journalists remain at high risk of torture sessions to remind them where the red lines are. Some result in death.

The Committee to Protect Journalists’ (CPJ) ranks Pakistan as the sixth most dangerous place for journalists in the world.  In 2011, five journalists have been killed. The list of beatings, coercive acts of violence and intimidation would be far higher. Interestingly, there are far fewer journalists imprisoned in Pakistan; the intelligence apparatus prefers more subtle yet brutal methods of persuasion.

Azaz Syed is a journalist for Dawn TV and writes for the Dawn newspaper. The Dawn group is a media heavyweight, but that didn’t stop Azaz from being targeted.

A dangerous place for journalism

“Pakistan is a dangerous place for journalism,” he said, in an interview with the Doha Centre for Media Freedom. “There’s really no second opinion to it. There are a number of internal and external factors that have led to this status quo.”

Internal factors include weak democratic factions, a history of military rule, and the intelligence cloak and dagger agencies that come tied to the military’s bootstraps. Each time the military has been in power, its eyes and ears have extended across the country. It’s naive to think, Azaz says, that these eavesdropping networks are bundled away when civilian governments take power.

The sectarian nature of Pakistan doesn’t help. Each province is rife with those pursuing their own interests. From the Punjabis in the country’s breadbasket to the impoverished Balouch citizens in the south stirring up their own insurgency; from the mountain terrains of the north where people jump between Afghanistan and Pakistan almost at will to the country’s cosmopolitan coastal city of Karachi, everyone has their own axe to rub against the grindstone. Externally, the war on terror and the uncertainty it has catalyzed has affected Pakistan’s reporting environment.

To say that every journalist in Pakistan is under threat is an exaggeration. As Azaz notes, there are two sorts of reporters: those who don’t touch grey areas and those that step over the red line with impunity. 

“People who hunt down stories that implicate the state and its machinations are usually subject to coercion of some sort,” he said.

This coercion can be deadly, such as the case of Saleem Shahzad, a writer for the Hong Kong based Asia Times Online. He didn’t survive his corrective beating. He was abducted in Islamabad and his corpse dumped in the city’s outskirts.

Shahzad had already been threatened by the ISI, Pakistan’s spy agency. The previous year, he was summoned to their offices to present an explanation for a story that the establishment had disliked.

If bribes fail, coercion sets in

“They contact you by telephone at first. The agents are polite, mild mannered and well spoken,” explained Azaz. “They’ll tell you their dos and don’ts, and ask you to work in the interests of national solidarity.” The next step is a financial reward or another bribe. If that fails, coercion sets in with a side order of harassment.

If one still refuses to toe the line, things intensify. Azaz’s care windows have been smashed twice; once while it was parked inside his garage. The third incident was a drive-by strafing of his house with live rounds by men on motorcycles. The next set of bullets would be sent “directly at you," a voice at the end of a phone call told him.

Omar Cheema was on his way home and had entered the deserted streets of his neighbourhood. He was intercepted by a Land Cruiser SUV and followed by another car. Passengers piled out and accused him of running over a pedestrian. They asked him to come with them.

“I was alone, and outnumbered. I couldn’t resist even if I wanted to,” he said. A blindfolded journey and a bloody beating followed. “They took videos of me naked on the floor. When they let me go, they reminded me they could easily find me again for round two, and said they would release those videos on Youtube.” Omar’s eyebrows and head were also shaved.

Targeted killings and beatings are the tip of the iceberg, said Omar. Pakistan is dangerous because of pressure from liberalised news organizations to report from the scene as fast as possible, he says. Coupled with ill-prepared journalists rushing to the scene without due precaution, this leads to injuries and occasionally, death. “It’s akin to being in a film crew - people are asked to get up as close as possible and film live shots,” says Omar. Blasts and gunfire exchanges present risk and precautions, training and safety gear remain minimal.

Take the case of Wali Khan Babar, a Pushtoon journalist reporting from Karachi. In January, he was one of more than 10 people shot and killed in sectarian violence that broke out after an attack on a local leader of the Awami National Party. Then there was the case of Pushtoon journalist Nasrullah Afridi, reporting for the Urdu publication Mashreq, who was killed in a car bomb in early 2011.

"The indignation is why I speak out"

How do journalists still muster up the nerve to go about their business? On the one hand, they have few ways of employing safety measures. On the other, it’s often not certain which faction is coming for them and for what reason, until it’s too late.

“It’s not really about cowardice or bravery. The indignation of having been targeted needlessly when one hasn’t done anything wrong is why I speak out,” Omar said. “The army and intelligence need to realise strapping on guns doesn’t make them any more patriotic than journalists are. We’re also working to our country’s benefit.” He pauses, and then repeats: “What have we done wrong? What did I do to deserve a torture session? Nothing. I’ve done nothing wrong.”

Their only mistake is stepping into an uncertain terrain where many powers are jockeying for power. The civilian government is being subjected to universal derision. Intelligence failures are becoming a sore point.

But still, doesn’t risk of death mean one should temper coverage? “One can hold silence forever once when one is dead," Omar said. "But better societies do not come about unless people speak out. The media will eventually win this as new powers come into play, and the media and judiciary assert their independence. We will win this.”

Hisham Wyne is a commentator on socio-politics and current affairs. He writes for newspapers including Pakistan’s Express Tribune and the American news site The Huffington Post.

7 Aug 2011

Oslo's many stories

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The recent Oslo attacks have given rise to a number of narratives and much conjecture. As the dust swirls on the verge of settling, it might be pertinent to examine some of them.

At the outset, there was the initial suspicion that al Qaeda was behind the attacks. When this was disproved, social media, the Muslim world at large and several columnists — including Charlie Booker writing for The Guardian with his usual vitriol — condemned the ease with which the erstwhile punditry had jumped to the Muslim connection. It was shoddy, they said. It was uncalled for. It indicates hatred and suspicion for Muslims, they noted furiously.

Apologies, but I find that argument to be a bit disingenuous. The immediate aftermath of an attack always raises conjecture about the assailants. The multiple blasts fit the mould of an al Qaeda attack — they’ve used this technique on Pakistani and Afghani targets more than once. When reports of shooting surfaced, the immediate suspicion was that it was perhaps a team of urban guerrillas, akin to the Mumbai incidence. The chain of reasoning might have been a bit hasty, but it was largely sound. When there are blasts in Spain, first suspicion usually falls on the Basque separatists. Islamists are usually not fingered in an attack in the North of Ireland — the now defunct but still gasping Irish Republican Army is deemed to be the obvious culprit. Violence in India’s ‘Red Corridor’ is almost always ascribed to Naxalites. But the Oslo attacks fit the al Qaeda mould before they were fitted into the Oklahoma bomber cookie cutter.

Then there was anger directed at the media for having sanctimonious ‘experts’ analyse Muslim-related issues of immigration and integration despite there being little connection. This ire is justified. But lest one forget, 24-hour news channels are like fecund, bloated millipedes, gorging themselves on conjecture while excreting half-baked conspiracies. But these channels are a function of consumer demand; they’ll keep broadcasting as long as eyes are glued to the television. There might be a conspiracy, but it’s one of economics, not racism.

The fact that current media is more biased than a soccer mom at a local game, or more pointless than a broken pencil, is mere testament to a toothless audience that tolerates and watches.

On a more constructive front, the attacks have led to a sudden and immediate disjoin within right-wing parties, says David Crossland in The National. Brievek was once a member of Norway’s Progress Party, which has in the past espoused concern about Muslim immigration and the dilution of western culture. From France and Germany to Denmark and England, the far right has been increasingly active and has also gathered clout. The violence perpetrated by Brievek, following a far more extreme version of conservative ideologies, is forcing these parties into U-turns, and a forced disassociation from previous xenophobic rhetoric.

The attacks, if anything, have also reminded us all that the real battle is never between faiths, creeds and skin tones. It’s between the tolerant and the intolerant, the accepting and the dogmatic, the rationalists and the zealots. It’s an apt reminder of which side of the fence we need to fall on, and that ideologues don’t have a specific hue or facial features. Zealous bigotry can come from anywhere, as can murderous tendencies.

And finally, it’s been confirmed. Social media is irony’s coffin. In response to the unneeded Muslim connection in the Oslo attacks, the twitterati set up a tongue in cheek #BlameTheMuslims hashtag, where they noted that Muslims could be blamed for bad weather, fever, or anything anyone chooses. Of course, hours later, the initial sarcasm was lost on everyone, and yells emanated on the internet over the utter bigotry on display. Between the original purpose and the shrill screams of new indignation, the hashtag trended and trended — a reminder of the utter facile nature of it all. As someone tweeted, Twitter is where irony goes to die.

Published in The Express Tribune, August 1st, 2011.


Hisham Wyne
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Hisham Wyne's Posterous

is a columnist, copywriter and radio commentator. His endless gabbing scores him frequent MC and compering gigs.

This is a blog of all his published work - in newspapers, magazines, other blogs and aggregators. For up to the minute random ramblings, hit up his Wordpress blog

He writes for the Huffington Post, Khaleej Times, Gulf News, Global Comment and the Weekend Review, and Bespoke International, plus some he can't recall. He is a regular at Dubai Eye 103.8 radio studios in some guise or other.

He is also currently making feeble attempts to write his first novel. Or more precisely, a collection of short stories.



Stalk @HishamWyne on twitter
Drop him a line on hisham.wyne [at] gmail.com
Call him using your marvelous cell phone by pressing the following keys in sequence: +971 50 9433383
www.huffingtonpost.com/hisham_wyne
www.hishamwyne.wordpress.com