How we treat our Citizens...

I am supposed to be working on other things right now revolving around the usual topic of the Middle East and Arab American relations. However, the last two hours turned into a discussion with the other Cairo scholar (hopefully he will not mind me plagiarizing some of his comments) about the TSA and pretty much how George Orwell's "1984" might actually be coming into being.

I am not one to make dramatic leaps and comparisons of this nature. But the TSA, in my opinion, has absolutely lost its mind. We are truly going overboard in the name of security. We are humiliating people, our own citizens, in the name of what? We freak out if we try to provide this amount of security at our own borders. If these types of implementations were put on the border everyone would lose their minds about how we are treating immigrants unfairly...but our own citizens? Well, I guess we can do whatever to them in the name oh so sacred security.

Apparently someone on Fox News (always my favorite) made some remark about how men and women in the armed forces put their lives on the line every day so American citizens should make this small sacrifice in the name of security. I'll tell you what, THIS IS NOT the freedom that the men and women of the military stand for and protect. The military does not go to war so that our grandmothers and children can get groped by the TSA every time they want to take a flight. Indeed, if this is where our country is going, the terrorists have truly won. They have.

Backing away from the pure outrage and absurdity of the situation, lets just look at some of the logistics of it. The current scanners would not detect the underwear bomber of last Christmas. As Jeff Goldberg pointed out, they don't do anything for cavity bombs (God help us when we start addressing that issue). And lastly, all anyone has to do to cause an equal amount of mayhem and fear is detonate a bomb in the security line. Am I supposed to go creeping about my country afraid that everyone might be the next terrorist lurking behind the bushes? It's absurd. It's paranoid. This is not America. What are we doing?

Why don't we expend this amount of energy and money dealing with our borders? There is pretty much a war going on South of us...but we rarely seem to care about that, usually in the name of being politically correct and sensitive. I'm all about these things but not to the extent that our own citizens are being treated like garbage.

I am not looking forward to flying back to the US anytime soon...

Probably too deep and serious to be a blog entry

I just finished one of the best and thought-provoking books I have read in a while, Derek Gregory's, The Colonial Present. I've been thinking about it, in my usual tendency to be overly serious about everything, for the last few days. It was, of course, mandatory reading for class and as it is THE one book out of many that the professor made mandatory for everyone to review, I somehow feel gullible and as though I am falling into a brainwashing trap. But that is probably my paranoia speaking.

The last seven weeks has been an intellectual journey that has led me full circle back to my perspective I held five years ago when graduating from UCLA. It is not the same location of course but I have tread a familiar path back to where I left off. I feel myself being fractured into at least two "me's" or two perspectives so to speak. Being able to better describe the world, its hidden power structures, its continuing but inadequately articulated "architectures of enmity" has considerable political and strategic relevance. I firmly believe I am a citizen of the "United States of Amnesia," the reluctant super-power, the executer of "empire-lite" who would rather not regard itself as such. There is no question in my mind. This understanding can of course be used to further US interests and values in the world; they are of course interests and values I find pleasing. The rhetoric anyway. This is strategic 'me' so to speak. Then there is the detail that comes from the excluded side, the dominated, the 'other.' Then comes in universal justice 'me.' It isn't right for some things to be ignored. Gregory's depiction of the physical and mental horrors or war and occupation are insightful, penetrating, and certainly realistic.

Do I believe that this is some sort of deviation from war as it has always been? No. It has, as much as we all like to sanitize it with ideas like "smart bombs", retained its indescribable brutality and terror. Only watching the trajectory of a Tomahawk cruise missile from the video-game-like combat information center of a warship does not eliminate the terror, destruction, and lives lost on the other side. People become merely objects or targets when we look at those screens. It is brutal...but I am under no illusion that this mental gymnastic exercise has not been present for any military engaging in combat throughout the span of human history. What sort of mental gymnastics must have been involved for the countless atrocities and brutalities committed from the times of the Assyrians, to Caesar, to the Mayan ceremonial war culture, to Muslim conquests and the following crusades? It has never, in the end, been romantic, precise, clean, or fully justified. In war there is always the dehumanized 'other'; Gregory's homer sacer who is outside the law and outside any human rights. It is truly horrifying. And we create that "fictive 'we'" for the viewers back home; "a vantage point was carefully constructed to privilege and protect the (American) viewer through the fabrication of (American) innocence and the demonization of the (Iraqi) enemy." I agree, we do this. The media performs for the American public; it's all propaganda, I don't question that. How else to you maintain a national support for war? It is the brutal, ugly fact and truth that is really easy to say as I sit here and drink my french-pressed coffee, positioned above my persian carpets and in my marbled-floor flat worthy of Cleopatra.

So we have the cold realist take: this is an effed world and every country for themselves. If it wasn't us doing it then it would be someone else making us into the homo sacer. We could take that a step further and say "at least American values are 'nice' for the most part." At least we aren't fascist, or trying to further a theocracy. You could have China come in as the 'colonizer' with its lack of moral screening and support for oppression as long as it gets stability and access to the production and goods it needs...but then we forget that we do the same thing. We only scream our support for democracy when it suits us, for better or worse.

Is there a way to stop the human-made structures of power in the world from perpetuating such violence? Is it worth the try? Or is it really always just 'us' against 'them' in a war over who gets the ability to have privilege and freedom. Is this simply academic over-analysis of a cruel and hard world? Yeah, this is a bit serious for me to be writing in a blog I guess. But I like to rant about what is running through my mind.

I'll leave off with this excerpt from Paul William Roberts during Desert Storm:

"In places, not a building was left standing as far as I could see. By the road-side, at intervals, lying on makeshift beds in the misty, freezing damp, lay casualties crudely swaddled in bloodstained bandages. They were waiting, I learned later, for the few ambulances that daily made rounds, either treating the wounded where they were or carrying them off to overburdened, understaffed hospitals. Most doctors and nursing staff had been sent to the eastern front. So had all able-bodied men. We were bombing the defenseless, the old, women and children...

"Perhaps the description should be as surgical as the bombing was said to be. One girl, aged ten or so, with shrapnel wound to the abdomen, holding lower intestines in hands like snake's nest. Teenage boy, unconscious, head like a half-eaten boiled egg. Old woman coughing out a spray of blood...

"A little later, Muhie and some of the soldiers showed me an obliterated high-tech death-factory cunningly arranged to look as if it had been an elementary school. Scraps of kids' art projects fluttered beneath crumbling concrete slabs and twisted metal rods. A little exercise book lay stained by fire and rain, with the universal language of children's art and words etched in rudimentary English that were just too apt and too heartbreaking to be ever repeated."

The Plight of Animals in Egypt

I think I am starting to get a bad reputation in my building as that crazy American that cares far too much about animals, particularly dogs, than any normal person should. I am usually a huge fan of staying out of other people's business, especially as I harbor some very reclusive tendencies of my own. I am not the neighbor that goes about asking to borrow a cup of sugar or an egg. I don't even know the names of the people who live in my building. It is probably a product of spending all of my adult life prior to Egypt in metropolitan LA and San Diego.

But back to the point...the first instance I got involved in my neighbors' business was this summer, when my brother was out visiting. I kept hearing the hysterical barking of a large dog coming from below me...interesting considering that I live on the ground floor. It barked day and night for two days before I finally asked my bo'ab what on earth was going on down in the basement. I learned that one of the Egyptian owners of the building, the family who also own the villa next door, had decided to purchase a puppy but did not want it in the house. They apparently did not want it in the yard, near their villa, or any sort of normal interaction with it either. They had arranged for the bo'ab (who knew nothing about dogs and felt the typical Egyptian abhorrence towards dogs) to take care of the puppy in the basement.

My brother and I set off to investigate downstairs. We found a beautiful 6 month old chocolate lab locked in the room the size of a coat closet. It had no access to fresh water or food and was literally living in its own defecation...and anyone who knows dogs knows they would never do that unless they had not been given any other choice in a place to relieve themselves. It was starved for love and attention, the whole incident broke my heart. We immediately set to work, giving instructions on water and food. We took it out on a leash, I retrieved some of my dog treats and food from my apartment. The puppy was still healthy but it would not be for long if it was regulated to the basement indefinitely. I felt myself filled with rage...how could anyone rich enough to own two buildings in Cairo not feed their dog or take proper care of it? Why on earth did they even purchase this dog if they did not intend to interact with it? Sadly, it was a phenomenon I had seen a great deal in Egypt. I anguished over whether to directly confront the family or call my own landlord. My landlord is a dog owner herself, and a responsible one. I opted for the later option and I was happy to listen to her react with utter fury about the situation. I learned the next day (after my brother and I had set off on a trip to the Western desert) that the police had actually come and taken the dog away. I have no idea what happened to the poor creature. I can't think that its fate was any better. I only hope that it made it to one of the very few animal rescue organizations here in Egypt. I vowed that next time I might become more involved.

Next time has come, though not nearly as drastic. The same family has purchased a puppy German shepherd that is regulated to the small patch of grass outside the building and tended to by the bo'ab and building guard. I went out to investigate the situation this morning...I am not the only person who has taken notice. A British couple in the building across the street is also concerned with the situation and has brought the dog food. It has no direct access to water and is in not so great of health. I went through my usual sermon to the bo'ab of why the dog must have access to fresh water at all times...not to mention getting a walk. But he said this was up to the owner. Shall I join forces with my Anglo counterparts across the street and take this poor dog into my care? I am already the cat friendly house that provides a constant supply of cat food on my kitchen window ledge. I am probably going to join forces with the Army vet at the Navy Medical Research Unit Three and start taking the cats I can catch in for spade/neuter. The population is severely out of control. I refuse to be dissuaded by the argument that no one can make a dent in any problem afflicting Cairo.

The treatment of animals in Egypt bothers me as much as the people living in garbage cities. I often see goats heading to their slaughter tied down in the flat beds of pickups, or even put in trunks. I hate going to the pyramids not only because of the hassling, but because of the nearly starved horses and camels I see carrying tourists. I remember the shock on an American veterinarian's face when our Nile cruise group were taken by horse to one of the many ancient temples here in Egypt. He started examining the horses in sheer disgust and sadness.

There have been some bright spots. My friends who own a bed and breakfast in Luxor send much of their profits to a woman running an animal rehabilitation center in the area. The bed and breakfast owner has her own animals she has rescued as well, including a pet donkey, rabbits, a beautiful Afghan hound and other creatures.

I don't understand the mistreatment of animals in a society that long ago used to embalm their animals like they did their kings and queens. Well, it is not the same society I suppose...I am being guilty of essentialism. Everything must be considered in its historical context. I'll end this now that Sabah is calling me...she wants to know if I would like to attend the the goat slaughter at her house for Eid Al Adha. I should ask Alanis Morissette if that is ironic...

Victimization

I sit in my ivory tower, so to speak, listening to Cairo slowly come to wake on a slow Friday afternoon. The muezzin has already called across the city for the Friday noon prayer. When I was out earlier I saw the sheep and goats being collected, next week they will be slaughtered for the Eid. The weather is finally such that I do not sweat from the simple act of walking to the fruit and produce stands ten minutes away. The cool air makes the pollution more bearable, perhaps even pleasant...or perhaps I have just been here for too long now.

I am doing what I seem to always do now: reading. The texts somehow fill me with a slight melancholy these days. The problems are so great, the anger still boiling, the emotion running so high that it is near improbable to think that barriers will ever be penetrated. Maybe I project my own personal life and history onto the problems of this troubled region. One peoples and their circular arguments become one voice in my head that sounds more like a memory of my own past. It is the same style of arguing I come across in my own life and my own interactions. Perhaps I should stop being vague at the risk of offending.

I think I have read at least ten different pieces lately that discussed why the long history of American intervention in the Middle East increased radicalization. September 11th was not about radicals hating freedom and democracy. This type of rhetoric hides the truth from ourselves. Ultimately, September 11th was "blow back" from our policies in pursuit of our interests...it was the price of winning the cold war really. I am willing to accept all of this, but all to often it gets clothed in an air of legitimization. The dialogue goes one step too far in saying that it is all America's fault for being a target of political violence. As my friend says to me, if you follow through with this argument then you can then turn around and say that Al Qaeda is at fault for the US war in Iraq. Al Qaeda and radicalization brought it on the Middle East, not America. But you would never hear that argument coming from this side of the fence...at least I have not heard it. No, here you read about how America is the "in denial" colonial power stepping in with cultural imperialism, if you will...a more subtle and twisted version of the British...that's all I ever hear these days. Whether or not we are aware of it, we tread in the blood-stained boots of the previous colonials, all their sins are marked upon us. All of these various arguments have their valid points, but they all so often stop before their reasoning might touch upon any fault of their own. No one ever uses their own logic to apply to themselves. Everyone has been wronged. Everyone is too emotional and wrapped up in their own perspectives to try to look across the fence for a second.

It reminds me of debates in my personal life..."you should treat me like such and such but I will not apply that same logic in how I treat others. Why? Oh, well its a different situation because I have been so wronged. That standard does not apply to me personally in this situation."

I read again and again that ideology, colonialism, religion, etc. skews America's view of the Middle East and creates "Islamaphobia." Or Islamic movements aren't really religious, they are just political fronts covered by a thin veil of religiosity so that the rhetoric contrasts with the West's evil secular view that is meant to strip away cultural meanings from a conquered people. So is it religion or isn't it? It's religion if we can use it as an argument against the West and it's not religion when that might suggest that there is a problem in the region. I'm getting tired of it. I am getting tired of the constant victimization. I really am.

Plate Glass

I have no concrete idea to express here other than a simmering dissatisfaction with things I know that I have to be careful talking about.

I have had the pleasure these past couple weeks, so to speak, of being drawn back into professional circles that are working in Egypt. It draws me back into touch with my profession. I get to remember that I am not simply unattached and wandering through North Africa and the Middle East. I get to remember the jokes, the culture, sometimes the cynicism. And indeed, I get to feel a little bit like I am at home and speaking with those of similar background.

But I find that my experience here is substantially different, though I would not necessarily expect it to be that divergent. Sometimes in discussion I sense hints of the 19th century British empire drifting in on the wind, and it turns my stomach sour. Not in a conspiracy theory sense, but from the observations that come from observing a culture and a people through the plate glass of an armored land cruiser. It is another world actually...a world of bleach washed vegetables from local markets, household staff, and minimal contact with the millions of people that almost live on top of each other in this congested and diverse city. It is like touching Egypt with rubber gloves and breathing through a mask. I suddenly find that I have stepped into a weird bubble that lives within Egypt without being part of it.

Am I implying that there is some kind of superior knowledge gained from riding on packed microbuses to the Western desert, spending time with great local friends, walking through garbage cities and inhabited graveyards, knowing the feeling of having an Egyptian country mother literally sticking chicken liver into your mouth with her hand? I am not sure. I hate to put on airs like that. And I hate to make it seem as though I am some nonparticipant observer through it all. I don't look at it through a lens of us and them, my Egyptian friends vs. my Western friends, or my "exotic" experience. It is just life, people toiling away in our human condition trying to make the best of it all. We just all happened to be born in different places. These are my friends, my experiences, my life. My experiences woven up here in Egypt with everyone else who lives here...truly lives here. Perhaps that is why I find that quiet voice in me taking offense at the comments made over drinks with perfectly matching napkins. Am I judging? I don't mean to. But I find myself feeling more at odds with the weird world I step into from time to time...the world to which I am "supposed to belong." This world of professionals seems to be a weird manifestation of how people behave when not at home. I find myself getting very defensive about Egypt.

Does this have a point? Probably not. I guess my most pertinent point is how are you supposed to connect with and reach out to a people, exchange perspectives, build relationships, through plate glass, gloves, and bleach?