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 Art inspires greater and better art, across generations and myriad forms of expression. Throughout the arts, there is a long tradition of mentorship. Ezra Pound taught Earnest Hemmingway, while Andrew Warhol was influenced by Salvadore Dali’s forays into pop art. Picasso, who mixed genius with an unrivalled eye for female perfection, made the young Catalan painter Joan Miro his protégé.

The relationship between mentor and student has withstood the travails of history. It is an enduring bond, allowing each generation of artists to break new ground and improve on their inheritance. Of late, however, this personalised form of learning has been supplanted by mass education, where the student body has been transformed from a group of discrete individuals to a collective.

The watchmaker Rolex SA has turned the craft of precision timekeeping into its very own art-form, and is now breathing new life into this age-old relationship through The Rolex Mentor and Protégé Arts Initiative, which has enjoyed continuous success since establishment in 2002.

The idea is as simple as the results are impressive. The initiative is an international philanthropic programme designed to help talented artists achieve their full potential. It seeks out artists from around the world and brings them together with great masters, for a year of creative collaboration in a one-to-one relationship. It is an initiative that crosses the boundaries of geography and culture to foster partnership that yields new artistic endeavour. The mentor and protégé develop an intimate relationship that explores the boundaries of their craft.

Since the initiative was inaugurated, it has hosted artists and cultural luminaries from over 32 countries. Rolex SA initiated the programme in keeping with a long tradition of supporting individual excellence. The organisation wishes to perpetuate the world’s artistic heritage in recognition of the ideal that it is possible to promote excellence without relying solely on financial philanthropy. Mentors are encouraged to offer their time, creativity and ideas, resources far more valuable to their charges than mere pecuniary assistance.

Masters of film, dance, literature, music, theatre and the visual arts are invited to offer individual guidance to gifted young artists. Each pair decides the best way to take the relationship forward. All Rolex asks is that the arrangement last a full year, with mentor and student spending at least six weeks together. The interaction ranges from protégé being granted access to master at work, to actual collaboration in artistic endeavour.To date, 173 artists, art-world leaders and other cultural luminaries have participated in the programme. Some 54 advisors have helped select mentors, and 91 nominators protégés. The programme’s participants span the globe in a community of art and creative exchange.

Middle East observers need not look far to find involvement from one of their own. In 2010, the initiative brought together Maya Zbib and Peter Sellars. The advocate of open space for dialogue was paired with festival- and theatre-director extraordinaire for results that surprised both. Maya Zbib brings a certain charm and openness to any space she inhabits. Though product of a Beirut that had seen its urban psyche rocked by civil war and a succession of conflicts - some self-inflicted, others wanton trespass by outsiders - she has created space for herself through art. Zbib is first and foremost a communicator, and her passion for theatre is born from an ardent desire to create channels for dialogue. With a Masters in Performance Making from Goldsmith University, she finally found a home at Beirut’s Zoukak Theatre Company and Cultural Association. That rarest of things, it is a completely democratic theatre company, deeply committed to sharing drama therapy techniques in the damaged communities and refugee camps of Southern Lebanon.

Of course, Peter Sellars hardly requires any introduction. The American director is well known for his interpretations of artistic masterpieces, and his collaborative projects with a range of creative artists. Sellars’ early work crossed genres and time with contemporary versions of works by Shakespeare, Brecht, Gershwin, Mozart, Handel and Bach. Recipient of the 1998 Erasmus Prize and a member of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences, Sellars joined the pantheon of mentors in the Rolex Art Initiative in the 2010-11 season.

Zbib says her association with Sellars added nuance to the way she thought about theatre. It helped her better comprehend the breadth of the art, and its significance to different cultures. Perhaps even more importantly, Zbib says Sellars’ influence helped her recall that theatre was in essence a pleasurable exercise in self-expression and not an arduous, complicated task.

Going further back through the annals of The Rolex Initiative, one discovers the idiosyncratic pairing of Edem Awumey and mentor Tahar Ben Jelloun in 2006-07. Jelloun, the acclaimed North African writer, draws upon his experiences of alienation in his native Morocco and as an immigrant in France, combining them with psychological insights to create powerful works across myriad forms including novels, poems, plays, essays and articles.

Awumey, meanwhile, has also put the theme of disassociation and exile at the heart of his fiction. Originally from Lome, capital of Togo, Awumey lives in Quebec and writes under his first name. Experiences of exile drew the two together, with an e-collaboration quickly turning into close rapport. Jelloun described his protégé as a river in flood that needs to be channelled. Four years later, Edem might have quietened down, but in a way that has focussed his abilities and concentrated his writing abilities.

On a crisp New York day in November 2011, artists gathered to celebrate the successful culmination of mentorship and creative exchange with emerging talents in their fields. Trisha Brown, Brian Eno, Hans Magnus Enzensberger, Anish Kapoor, Peter Sellars and Zhang Yimou were joined by their respective charges as they ruminated over a year of learning and profound change in the programme’s 2010-11 season.

November also saw Rolex SA announce the names of six internationally recognised artists chosen to lead dance, film, literature, music, theatre and visual arts in 2012-13. Each mentor will be given a choice of three finalists in each category, and will select a pupil from the short-list. A mentor’s choice of student has always been very personal, and Rolex SA would not want it any other way.

The mentor list reads like to a Who’s Who of the arts world. Canadian author Margaret Atwood, renowned novelist, poet, essayist and literary critic and a prolific writer, is on it. The Economist calls her a “scintillating wordsmith,” but one up-and-coming author will simply call her guide. Then there is French theatre director Patrice Chereau, heralded for his wide-ranging theatre, film and opera productions that delve deeply into human relationships. For him, experimentation with different media presages one unifying idea: that of narrating stories.

Also nominated is Asia’s premier choreographer, Lin Hwai-min, who has pioneered Chinese contemporary dance since founding Taiwan’s Cloud Gate Dance Theatre nearly 40 years ago. Film mentor is Walter Murch, revered for his work as an editor and sound designer, and as a craftsman who does not visualize as much as auralise when he thinks about sound in terms of space.

Legendary singer, songwriter and guitarist Gilberto Gil, one of Brazil’s most influential musicians, is taking on the musical responsibilities in the 2012-13 programme. He has released 52 albums, five them platinum and 12 gold, and has sold more than four million records. Finally, the visual arts are represented by William Kentridge, a man acclaimed for enmeshing the personal with the political in his narrations of pre- and post-apartheid South Africa. He  is drawn by ambiguity, contradiction and uncompleted gestures; fitting then that he is an extraordinary exponent of political art.

The protégés for the 2012-13 season of the programme have yet to be decided, but Rolex SA has already initiated a worldwide search. Expert, international nominating panels of influential artists and professionals in each of the six disciplines are already at work, identifying and inviting young talents from around the globe to submit applications. The process is not open to unsolicited applications – all potential protégés are personally invited to apply. The protégés will be announced in mid-2012, and the year will commence soon after.

The personal nature of mentor and protégé has been diluted by the vicissitudes of modern life and the travails of modern learning. As a sign of its commitment to the importance of craftsmanship, Rolex SA has resurrected this most intimate and satisfying relationship, to the great benefit of global art and expression.

[This was written for the Read metro magazine]

We see you, sir. With the diamantes on your shades glistening softly in the low mall light. Behind those dark covers rest a pair of discerning eyes, never slow to appreciate a well-formed curve or a suitably short hemline. You look every inch a man of the world, sir. Till you take a left past Zara and crash into that palm tree. You hope no one has noticed, but you know it’s far too late. All that mystique has irrevocably shattered, much like the lenses of your expensive aviators.

Some wars are bitter as old lemons in vinegar. And none, not even Apple versus Android fanboys, or Beliebers taking on Justin haters, match the rancour surrounding the wearing of sunglasses indoors. On the one side are people who do wear sunglasses indoors; on the other, just about every other inhabitant of planet Earth.

Would it be wrong to presume the need for a direct positive correlation between sun and glasses? No sun, ergo no glasses. Sources of artificial light do not count. Places that offer limited exposure to sunlight, such as the Dubai Metro, which darts from dark to light to dark again, are a grey area in the shade-wearing paradigm.

Admittedly, a true sense of fashion does not conform to the norm, or just trawl the averages. But rebellion too requires taste and proportion. One wouldn’t wear a snorkelling mask to a funeral, unless said funeral were for a favourite pet turtle. Hence, the next time you’re tempted to wear shades while trawling indoor malls, do resist. Or at the very least watch out for that palm tree to the left of Zara. 

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. 

“Palestinian History in Postage Stamps” examines Palestinian stamps in detail with commentary that expresses the Arab viewpoint. It is nothing if not an assertion of Arab identity and Palestinian history through the simple expedience of declaring that a people with over a hundred years of stamps cannot be erased from historical and geographical narrative through occupation. His book and the stamps within cover a period between the initial colonization of the 1870s to the establishment of the Palestinian authority in the 1990s. All the stamps in the book are from Abuljebain’s personal collection, and were assembled lovingly over a period of years.

“Palestinian History in Postage Stamps” follows an interesting structure: the closest metaphor might be the cross-section of an onion. In looking at the world through a very Palestinian-centric viewpoint, it has at its core stamps that come from the troubled territories. The next ring outwards in the metaphorical onion comprises of stamps from countries contiguous to Israel, and in Abuljebain’s mind, offering the first line of defence and support to the Palestinians. These include Lebanon, Syria, Jordan and Egypt.

The next ring outwards has countries that directly support the Palestinian cause in some way or another – Iraq, Saudi Arabia, Libya and Sudan. Proceeding outwards further still, a chapter deals with other Arab states. Abuljebain feels the Palestinian problem is actually one of Arab identity. Thus, even states that have not played a proactive role to date are still ideological companions solely because of geography and culture. “If Palestine is at the centre of my book, it is surrounded by states that try and confront the occupation, states that support those confronting the occupation, and finally other Arab countries. I’ve tried to express the history of Palestine exclusively through an Arab narrative, for it is very much a pan-Arab issue of identity and social cohesiveness,” he says.

Abuljebain is Palestinian but like many has not been able to reside in his homeland. His parents, he says, were evicted from Jaffa along with thousands others in the events of 1948. They moved to Kuwait, where Abuljebain was born in 1950. He’s an engineer by trade, and combines construction and consultation concerns as a business model. When he’s not shuttling around Gulf States from one consultation job to the next, he’s engaging in his other full-time profession as Arab activist and spokesperson. He moved to the United States post the Gulf War, and has been involved in political work and union activity both as a student and now in his professional life. He belongs to a number of associations and societies in the US where he writes and lectures on behalf of Arab causes.

In fact, his family’s exile in 1948 may just have been a boon to his nascent hobby. “Our extended family split up and travelled all over the world. This means there was a constant flow of letters from different countries, which meant I had a ready source of international stamps to start my collection,” he recalls.

Philately came early to him. “I started when I was a child. Many children start collections, particularly of stamps, and it wasn’t very unusual. But unlike many, I persisted. One of my fondest memories of an early stamp is of a 1956 Egyptian one depicting resistance post the Suez Canal issue. It was a very beautiful brown stamp, with a soldier, a man, and a woman all firing at an incoming paratrooper. I knew then that I was hooked, possibly for life,” he says.

It’s not that the young Abuljebain was only interested in war-like stamps. In fact, one of his other favourites from early life was the unity stamp between Egypt and Syria, with an arch linking the two countries’ maps. “Even aesthetically, I was always drawn to the political stamps,” he notes. 

Hear Abuljebain talk about stamps and you are left in no doubt of the enormous passion he has for philately. He describes lovingly the years of toil in completing stamp collections. “Once the last stamp in a set is found, no matter how mundane, the sense of achievement is indescribable,” he says.  “Nothing else compares.”

He is keen to dispel the notion of philately as an isolated activity. “It’s a science in itself, and within it encompasses history, geography, anthropology and sociology. Stamps are not just beautiful due to aesthetics. Many carry a political message, or memories of a geographical location. They are evidence of culture at work, of life occurring. And much can be deduced from even the simplest depictions.”

“A Palestinian History in Postage Stamps” is a work spanning generations. Abuljebian gathered the collections depicted within from sources all over the world: from activist friends, the Strand Street in London, swaps and exchanges, and specialist shops in the United States. His motivations behind the compilation are clear, if complex.

“I wanted to establish four things. First, I wanted to give vent to philatelist passion. There are many books on American, British and French stamps, for instance, but very few from the Arab world. I wanted to set a precedent. I also wanted to offer a reading of history from an Arab perspective, to balance some of the other narratives out there. Further, I wanted to argue the inherent correlation between Arab unity and identity, and the Palestinian issue. Last, there was the desire to take the Palestinian issue to an international audience, and make the cause both global and legitimate. I wanted to tell the world about a people with a rich history and culture, who were being oppressed and marginalized.”

Abuljebian’s book has been receiving accolades since it came out in the 90’s, but he’s not done. The philately is going strong and so is the activism. He is currently working on a series of papers, researches and lectures in the States on the history of Zionism and Palestine, the idea the right of return, and the viability of the one state solution were he calls for “a democratic secular state from river to the sea where all reside as equals.”

Between his architectural commitments, unceasing activism and ardent phlately, Abuljebain is a man difficult to pin down geographically. His seasoned voice of reason tells of many years of grappling with geopolitical issues and coming up with conclusions that may not be acceptable to all. But even a short conversation leaves one feeling strangely reassured that there are still a few good men left fighting for what they believe is right. Perhaps they should commemorate him with a stamp. It would only be fitting. 

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.

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

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.

No one wants anarchy on their doorstep

Oct 21^st 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.

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.

Consider the facts on the ground. The PTI’s appeal, though rising, is based largely around urban centers. The party’s supporters are the urbane urbanites, who for the large part excel at couch analysis, latte sipping, and categorical activism through the consistent updating of Facebook statuses and Twitter one-liners (please note, at this juncture, that I very much count myself as part of the Facebook updating, tweeting, cappuccino cohort).

Now, there’s nothing intrinsically wrong with this. In fact, it’s a non-violent, semi-progressive agenda that does not give leeway to the same dichotomy of thieves that have been robbing all and sundry blind for decades. I support it.

But the nature of Pakistan’s socio-political structure is feudal. This ensures that the mass bulk of your voters are going to vote the way they always have - depending on which constituency they may fall in. Subjected to decades of oversight, they’re in the advanced stages of Stockholm Syndrome, and will relentlessly vote to power the same people who always proceed to disenfranchise them. This seems a bit harsh, so allow me to qualify: landowners, even if of a feudal bent, have some connection to their sundry serfs. They may do very little, but still have more power to effect change in feudal lands than your average white-collar person.

Alas, this calculus has been done before. In 1835, Alexis de Tocqueville stated the danger of democracy becoming the tyranny of the majority. Essentially, this means a majority can impose its views to the detriment of a large minority. This is precisely the case here, with the white-collar vote outweighed by a mass of farmers and workers answerable to their feudal lords. The lords canvas, and arrange for people in their circle of influence to be ferried back and forth from polling stations. They point votes in the direction of their latest decreed alliance.

The moral of this story is that as long as the feudal structure stays, the Khan stays out. Even His Cricketship has mentioned this anecdotally on several an occasion. He talks about how the PTI sweeps urban centers and loses ground in rural areas. He blames this on rigging: I would put it down to simple influence of the land-owning classes. Even if he were right, and rigging were occurring in far flung polling stations, that too is a by-product of a system in feudal inertia, because an independent election commission has not yet been established in Pakistan. The incumbents have no wish to erode power in the interest of fair play.

So here then is the dilemma. Khan is canvassing against a system that looks after its own - and in the manner of Marx’s structuralism has created institutions that help it sustain and propagate itself. The PTI’s core constituency is the very sort of urban middle-class that does not have the might of numbers or resources to challenge land and power. In delicious irony, the poor who are being hurt the most by the current system are also helping to sustain it: a stereotypical Marxist construct if ever there were one.

This isn’t about Khan’s suitability as premier, nor about his ideals. It’s simply about a system that is caught up in its own inertia, and looks after its own. Outsiders are not welcome. And the urban classes Khan is courting – or rather the ones who are courting Khan - have a history of not voting anyway. So stick that in your Facebook and update it.

Activists, and most with any human sympathy to their name, were shocked when Greece decided to nail new unpleasant colours to its masthead. The second flotilla, en route to breaking the blockade that Israel has enforced around Palestine, was detained at Greek ports earlier this month and then sent back.

Written by Hisham Wyne

More than a couple of weeks have transpired since the assassination of the purported rock star of the Al Qaeda world. The champagne has been guzzled, and the mild mannered Joes next door in New York have reverted to type after a day of macho beer guzzling and frenetic war cries.

It’s now time to reckon with the aftermath. Osama bin Laden, referred quasi-affectionately as OBL on twitter, is no more. And we sit and bask in the joy of a world where his death changes…very little.

It’s safe to surmise that OBL had, for many years, not been in direct tactical command of Al Qaeda, regardless of how much porn he may or may not have watched. Two reasons precluded his taking active charge. His status as the world’s most wanted man meant he couldn’t saunter over to the local telegraph office and ask to send a cable to al-Zawahiri. Second, the amorphous nature of Al Qaeda relies more on autonomous cells than a hierarchy. The recent attacks in Pakistan and Afghanistan’s Kandahar indicate Al Qaeda is alive, well and unfortunately still capable as ever of inflicting damage.

The Bin Laden aftermath raises far more important questions for his host country, Pakistan. The choice between conspiracy and ineptitude is stark, and unpleasant. Either a carefully planned endgame ensued, where the military knew both of OBL’s existence and the planned operation, or it was blissfully ignorant of either and the American swot team genuinely managed to evade detection for the better part of an hour, and fly out.

The former is evidence of a widening disconnect between the puppet masters, the underlying politicians and the general public. The Kremlin of the USSR era would be hard pressed to muster such intrigue. The alternative is a behemoth army that, despite guzzling a sizable percentage of the impoverished state’s resources, is still hard pressed to find and mine intelligence. Pakistan continues its double game, simultaneously firing on Nato helicopters and arresting a senior Al Qeada figure in Karachi.

Then there is the widening rift between the silent in Pakistan who secretly approve of OBL’s disappearance from world affairs, and the vocal ones who are offering funeral prayers for OBL’s safe passage to the bounties of heaven. The chasm is tenuously bridged by an issue that unites most Pakistanis, regardless of political affiliation or worldview – that America is less benevolent friend and more opportunistic taskmaster.

Chomsky, in an excellent piece, describes the double standards at play in the American narrative. He doubts that Americans would be as thrilled with the Iraqi commandos landing at George W. Bush’s compound, assassinating him and throwing his body into the ocean. Chomsky usually makes it a point to dismantle the patriotic self-centeredness of American ideology, where most actions are ascribed as a saving grace for all of mankind and half the animal kingdom. But in his quest to even the scales, Chomsky is rebutting an American narrative by making arguments relevant solely to an American audience.

In the rest of the world, the notion of America as the great Satan, or as world saviour, is strangely passe. Most observers realize that America is merely fulfilling the terms and conditions of an imperialist power furthering its political, social and economic interests. Empires have propagated ideology and bent others to their will since the time of the Mesopotamians, the first great civilization. There is irony in history: Mesopotamia was founded on the fertile banks of the Euphrates river, where lies the present day cauldron of Iraq, from  which the world’s latest great civilization is trying to extricate itself.

As a rational, self-serving nation, America will act in its own interests when it can. This makes it neither evil nor particularly special. From an American viewpoint, taking out OBL was a good decision, regardless of his capacity as ringleader. It proved an ideological victory; one that will almost certainly give Obama a clean run to the White House for the second time. And while OBL’s removal may not hamper opportunistic attacks carried out by lone individuals or splinter cells, the chances of a massive organized attack have been reduced as Al Qaeda busies itself with the messy business of succession.

Yes, Osama is gone. But the conditions, mostly economic impoverishment and socio-political ignorance that allow Al Qaeda access to willing young recruits wanting to splinter into millions of pieces for the hope of a better afterlife, persist. Ideology and blind faith are often a last refuge for the marginalized.

Two weeks on, little has changed. America is still struggling to define its role in an angry Middle East and Afghanistan. Pakistan is still sliding towards a sort of zealous faith-based double standard that makes rational argument next to impossible. Schisms between the military, political infrastructure and constituents continue to suffer. It’s unsurprising that media pundits from the country have largely shied away from supporting OBL’s demise.  But Bin Laden bent ideology to devastating end, and is responsible, both directly and via proxy for thousands of deaths. There should be no sorrow at his demise. It’s just unfortunate that his replacement, either the Egyptian Saif el Adel, or Adel’s compatriot Ayman al-Zawahiri, is already manning the guns.