IT’S about time that the antagonists in the Middle East begin growing up. With their rich history the peoples of the Middle East gave the world much of today’s basic needs, from algebra to zoology, allowing modern society to function as it does. Yet despite this wonderful past filled with glory and stories of grandeur, what will these peoples leave as a legacy to their children?
“A good politician thinks about the future of his children and grandchildren and what sort of legacy he will leave behind him for them,” said Avishay Braverman, Israel’s minister of minority affairs during a recent meeting in Washington, DC. That is precisely dead on target, so to say. But you rarely find that sort of thinking in the region where hate seems to be the favorite pastime of most actors involved in the conflict. Israeli leaders for example complain that Palestinian textbooks used by children in Gaza and the West Bank continues to promote violence and incite hatred of the Jews among Palestinian children. That may well be the case and while by no means
justifying such despicable behaviour as to instill hatred in the minds of young people, many Israelis continue to look down on Palestinians as though they belong to some form of sub-human group.
That same thought about caring for our children struck me while reviewing the recent Israeli film called ‘Lebanon’ that tells the story of a tank unit going into south Lebanon during the 1982 Israeli invasion of Lebanon. The film shows life inside a tank, in the small compartment where a three-man crew live, sleep and work, filled with fumes of diesel oil, high explosive ammunition, grime and perpetual fear. And the thought crossed my mind: that regardless of what atrocities these young men commit in the name of their beliefs, of God and country, the real guilty parties are the older men who send their children to battle in this manner.
The Middle East conflict is now 60-plus years old and it’s about time that the nations (and nations to be) in this dispute begin growing up somewhat. Time to take a reality check and to accept the facts as they are. Israel is a reality. Many in the region may not like that but those who remain the most concerned by the Middle East conflict, the Palestinians, have come to grip with that and they realise that Israel must be engaged in dialogue rather than conflict. Other members of the so-called frontline states, Egypt and Jordan have also come to accept Israel. Indeed, rather than simply sign a peace treaty these two Arab states have gone a step further, they went ahead and established full diplomatic relations with the Jewish state, exchanging ambassadors and establishing diplomatic legations in each other’s countries.
Ironically, today it is the states that are least concerned with the Palestinian-Israeli issue that are becoming the most belligerent towards Israel, as with Turkey and Iran. It would greatly benefit the countries concerned to look at the European Union as an example of how to conduct foreign policy and avoid conflict.
After centuries of wars that have devastated the continent the Europeans realised that continued confrontation is simply not going to make life better for any of their citizens. The EU was founded on the basis of an economic agreement that would give the member states financial incentives to avoid war. Today it is simply unimaginable for Germany and France to go to war as it is equally unthinkable for say Austria to try and conquer parts of Hungary. The European states have reached maturity in that respect. Isn’t it about time that those involved in the Middle East conflict did the same?
Time will tell and history will be the judge. But so long as the leaders of the Middle East continue to ignore the plight of their children and grandchildren, it is the leadership who remain the real guilty parties. During a radio interview some years ago I was asked if I thought there would ever be real peace between the Arabs and the Israelis; and I was told to answer in less that 30 seconds, before the next commercial break.
I replied that I thought there would be peace the day the antagonist in the region would develop greater love for their children than the hate they have for their enemies. Only then would young men and women be sent to fight and die in horrible conditions.
Claude Salhani is a veteran Arab political analyst specialising in the Middle East and terrorism
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Sudden death, gradual justice By: M J Akbar
IT would be odd, and wholly unacceptable, if secularism were to be defined by the fate of a gangster in Gujarat. At stake in the Sohrabuddin Sheikh case is not the religion of the individual, or his preferred means of sustenance, but the rule of law.
It was in pursuit of this principle that the Supreme Court handed over investigation of his death in a fake encounter, and the subsequent murder of Sohrabuddin’s wife Kauserbi, to the CBI on January 13, 2010. The Gujarat government effectively lost its credibility when it admitted in December 2006 that Sohrabuddin had been killed in a fake encounter on November 26, 2005, and that his wife had been murdered two days later.
The Supreme Court has taken a stand that should terrify not just the Gujarat government, but any administration. It has asserted that it is the court’s business to determine guilt and innocence, and not that of the police. The truth is that for at least two decades, and in some places for longer than that, security forces have used fake encounters as the easy option in their war against crime and anti-national terrorism. This is not unique to Gujarat.
We do not know how many innocents have been killed in Mumbai in the process of tackling the renowned underworld of the city. Police officers who shot first and refused to answer questions later have been glamourised as heroes, not only by the Maharashtra government, but also by Bollywood.
Bollywood intervened only because this practice has the support of many citizens, for reasons that might not be palatable to either the police or the people. We no longer believe that crime, let alone anti-national terrorism, can be controlled through legitimate means, because corruption has made large parts of the police-judiciary system impotent. Now comes the difficult part: we citizens are partners in crime as well, since we buy products that the underworld sells. Every user of drugs and narcotics in Mumbai is complicit in corruption, because the underworld would not survive without this trade. Rich Mumbaikars who need a hashish puff to keep cool during their fancy parties might want to think before they smoke. Our selfish self wants a level of crime, which sustains our weakness, and the elimination of criminals who threaten our comfort.
Amit Shah cannot escape, no matter how smart a politician he might be. The wheels of Indian justice may take their time, but when they move they grind with persistence. Shah will attempt to exploit contradictions in the public mind, for there will be those who support “killer-solutions”, but his case is badly tarred by the accusation that he took money from businessmen in the larger transactions surrounding this case. Shah, and Narendra Modi, will learn that the circumference of power is wider than the political world. This episode will also interfere with Modi’s hopes of becoming his party’s candidate for Prime Minister, which may not displease everyone in his party.
But surely accountability cannot be limited to just one case in one state. Who is responsible for the death of Rajkumar Cherukuri Azad, the 55-year-old Naxalite leader who was shot dead by the Andhra police in Adilabad district? Was this an “encounter” or a “fake encounter”? Do the police have evidence of a Naxal attack, to which they were responding? Or did they track Azad on orders from Delhi or Hyderabad, and then murder him?
There is a political dimension to Azad’s death, for he was the prospective bridge between the government and the Naxalite movement for any negotiations. Did Delhi want him eliminated because the Home ministry had decided that it would kill its way through the Naxal upsurge, and its offer of talks was not serious? Intermediaries like Swami Agnivesh have suggested as much. Is this the moment when Swami Agnivesh should move a writ petition in the Supreme Court, arguing that the Andhra police, being complicit in the death, will make no effort to try and answer these questions?
It is perhaps easier to pose questions than to find answers since we are dealing with a prickly proposition: who is an enemy of state? There is no confusion about a Kasab and the many thousands who have been sent across an international border to damage our country. The problem gets more opaque for the Supreme Court when categories change. The court has taken a courageous decision in ruling that a man like Sohrabuddin, who has killed gangsters to spread an extortion racket and has employees armed with automatic firearms, cannot face an arbitrary death squad. Does Azad, in the opinion of the court, deserve to be killed without a trial because certain persons in Andhra Pradesh and Delhi have decided that this is how it should be?
The Supreme Court is not a political party. It cannot vary its principles to suit pragmatic needs.
M J Akbar is editor of The Sunday Guardian, published from Delhi. For comments, write to opinion@khaleejtimes.com
It was in pursuit of this principle that the Supreme Court handed over investigation of his death in a fake encounter, and the subsequent murder of Sohrabuddin’s wife Kauserbi, to the CBI on January 13, 2010. The Gujarat government effectively lost its credibility when it admitted in December 2006 that Sohrabuddin had been killed in a fake encounter on November 26, 2005, and that his wife had been murdered two days later.
The Supreme Court has taken a stand that should terrify not just the Gujarat government, but any administration. It has asserted that it is the court’s business to determine guilt and innocence, and not that of the police. The truth is that for at least two decades, and in some places for longer than that, security forces have used fake encounters as the easy option in their war against crime and anti-national terrorism. This is not unique to Gujarat.
We do not know how many innocents have been killed in Mumbai in the process of tackling the renowned underworld of the city. Police officers who shot first and refused to answer questions later have been glamourised as heroes, not only by the Maharashtra government, but also by Bollywood.
Bollywood intervened only because this practice has the support of many citizens, for reasons that might not be palatable to either the police or the people. We no longer believe that crime, let alone anti-national terrorism, can be controlled through legitimate means, because corruption has made large parts of the police-judiciary system impotent. Now comes the difficult part: we citizens are partners in crime as well, since we buy products that the underworld sells. Every user of drugs and narcotics in Mumbai is complicit in corruption, because the underworld would not survive without this trade. Rich Mumbaikars who need a hashish puff to keep cool during their fancy parties might want to think before they smoke. Our selfish self wants a level of crime, which sustains our weakness, and the elimination of criminals who threaten our comfort.
Amit Shah cannot escape, no matter how smart a politician he might be. The wheels of Indian justice may take their time, but when they move they grind with persistence. Shah will attempt to exploit contradictions in the public mind, for there will be those who support “killer-solutions”, but his case is badly tarred by the accusation that he took money from businessmen in the larger transactions surrounding this case. Shah, and Narendra Modi, will learn that the circumference of power is wider than the political world. This episode will also interfere with Modi’s hopes of becoming his party’s candidate for Prime Minister, which may not displease everyone in his party.
But surely accountability cannot be limited to just one case in one state. Who is responsible for the death of Rajkumar Cherukuri Azad, the 55-year-old Naxalite leader who was shot dead by the Andhra police in Adilabad district? Was this an “encounter” or a “fake encounter”? Do the police have evidence of a Naxal attack, to which they were responding? Or did they track Azad on orders from Delhi or Hyderabad, and then murder him?
There is a political dimension to Azad’s death, for he was the prospective bridge between the government and the Naxalite movement for any negotiations. Did Delhi want him eliminated because the Home ministry had decided that it would kill its way through the Naxal upsurge, and its offer of talks was not serious? Intermediaries like Swami Agnivesh have suggested as much. Is this the moment when Swami Agnivesh should move a writ petition in the Supreme Court, arguing that the Andhra police, being complicit in the death, will make no effort to try and answer these questions?
It is perhaps easier to pose questions than to find answers since we are dealing with a prickly proposition: who is an enemy of state? There is no confusion about a Kasab and the many thousands who have been sent across an international border to damage our country. The problem gets more opaque for the Supreme Court when categories change. The court has taken a courageous decision in ruling that a man like Sohrabuddin, who has killed gangsters to spread an extortion racket and has employees armed with automatic firearms, cannot face an arbitrary death squad. Does Azad, in the opinion of the court, deserve to be killed without a trial because certain persons in Andhra Pradesh and Delhi have decided that this is how it should be?
The Supreme Court is not a political party. It cannot vary its principles to suit pragmatic needs.
M J Akbar is editor of The Sunday Guardian, published from Delhi. For comments, write to opinion@khaleejtimes.com
How about banking with our most valuable asset? By: Iman Kurdi
They say the best ideas are the simplest. What could be simpler than a time-based barter? When I first heard of the concept of a time bank a few years ago, I thought what a throwback to primitive times.
It struck me as a left-wing, almost communist idea, that was not only utopic but ultimately pointless. As a good capitalist, I thought why take money out of the equation when it is the most efficient way to run a market. But last week I saw a TV programme about a time bank in Chile and I was dazzled by the beauty of this simple idea put in action.
Here is the basic principle. I join a community of people who have signed on to a timebank. I list all the services I could offer to do for other people and the services I seek. Then I give an English lesson to A, who gives me an hour credit, with which I pay B to vacuum my apartment, in turn C uses my hour credit to have D teach her how to use a programme on her computer, which enables D to ask E to take his children to the park for an hour, and so on...
It is a mechanism that facilitates barter. Whereas straight barter is common and easy: I do this for you, you do this for me, time banks enable sophisticated and complex barter to take place, a little bit like money does. So why not just use money?
We all have skills that could help other people. Some of these skills we could sell for money but many of these skills are soft skills that are not easily priced, sold and marketed. Similarly we all need help and have a wishlist of things we would like to do. Time banks facilitate this exchange in a way that money is not able to do. It may seem wrong that an accountant should give an hour of her time giving financial advice, while she spends an hour of her time getting a dance lesson, when the first she could charge $100 for and the second she could get for $50, but a time bank is not a commercial enterprise, it is a tool for community adhesion.
Besides, the great thing about a time bank is that it takes money out of the equation. Time becomes a currency in its own right. It’s not what you do for someone but how much time it takes that is the criterion. It is egalitarian: everyone’s time is equal.
What converted me to the idea was not the theory but the reality of seeing it in action. It quite literally changes peoples lives. In the TV programme, a retired woman spoke of how using up her free time to help other people had enabled her to do things she only dreamt of doing previously. It also enriched her life by enabling her to fill her time with activities that she enjoyed, some of which she was paid for and some of which she paid for.
Imagine an apartment block as a community. On the third floor, Reema, an elderly Lebanese lady wishes someone could drive her to the supermarket once a week. She would also like someone to wire up her new television set. On the second floor, Ella wishes someone could teach her how to make kibbeh. She would also like someone to take her children to the park for an hour once a week. On the first floor, Sam, wishes someone could cook him dinner every now and then. He also would like Arabic lessons. In this community of just three people, you can see how a time bank could enable all three members to get what they want. Reema could teach Ella how to make Kibbeh, Sam could take Reema to the supermarket, Ella could cook for Sam, and so on... If you extrapolate that to a community of 300 you see the infinite possibilities it opens up.
What I like best about this is that it enables people to ask for help without feeling indebted. Think of Reema the elderly Lebanese lady. Yes, her neighbours could and should help her out but it is so much nicer for her to feel that she need not ask for favours. It is also highly rewarding to know that she has skills that are valuable to other people.
With modern technology time banks are easy to set up and run. They can be run via a web-site, where members are listed and transactions are done by e-mail and e-accounting. Or they can be run the old fashioned way, like the time bank I saw in Chile, where members have cheque books and sign cheques of time which they deposit into a time bank account. Either way time banks enables people in communities to help each other in a way that is equitable and easy. Time is our most valuable asset. Why not use it well.
Iman Kurdi is an Arab writer based in Nice, France. For comments, write to opinion@khaleejtimes.com
It struck me as a left-wing, almost communist idea, that was not only utopic but ultimately pointless. As a good capitalist, I thought why take money out of the equation when it is the most efficient way to run a market. But last week I saw a TV programme about a time bank in Chile and I was dazzled by the beauty of this simple idea put in action.
Here is the basic principle. I join a community of people who have signed on to a timebank. I list all the services I could offer to do for other people and the services I seek. Then I give an English lesson to A, who gives me an hour credit, with which I pay B to vacuum my apartment, in turn C uses my hour credit to have D teach her how to use a programme on her computer, which enables D to ask E to take his children to the park for an hour, and so on...
It is a mechanism that facilitates barter. Whereas straight barter is common and easy: I do this for you, you do this for me, time banks enable sophisticated and complex barter to take place, a little bit like money does. So why not just use money?
We all have skills that could help other people. Some of these skills we could sell for money but many of these skills are soft skills that are not easily priced, sold and marketed. Similarly we all need help and have a wishlist of things we would like to do. Time banks facilitate this exchange in a way that money is not able to do. It may seem wrong that an accountant should give an hour of her time giving financial advice, while she spends an hour of her time getting a dance lesson, when the first she could charge $100 for and the second she could get for $50, but a time bank is not a commercial enterprise, it is a tool for community adhesion.
Besides, the great thing about a time bank is that it takes money out of the equation. Time becomes a currency in its own right. It’s not what you do for someone but how much time it takes that is the criterion. It is egalitarian: everyone’s time is equal.
What converted me to the idea was not the theory but the reality of seeing it in action. It quite literally changes peoples lives. In the TV programme, a retired woman spoke of how using up her free time to help other people had enabled her to do things she only dreamt of doing previously. It also enriched her life by enabling her to fill her time with activities that she enjoyed, some of which she was paid for and some of which she paid for.
Imagine an apartment block as a community. On the third floor, Reema, an elderly Lebanese lady wishes someone could drive her to the supermarket once a week. She would also like someone to wire up her new television set. On the second floor, Ella wishes someone could teach her how to make kibbeh. She would also like someone to take her children to the park for an hour once a week. On the first floor, Sam, wishes someone could cook him dinner every now and then. He also would like Arabic lessons. In this community of just three people, you can see how a time bank could enable all three members to get what they want. Reema could teach Ella how to make Kibbeh, Sam could take Reema to the supermarket, Ella could cook for Sam, and so on... If you extrapolate that to a community of 300 you see the infinite possibilities it opens up.
What I like best about this is that it enables people to ask for help without feeling indebted. Think of Reema the elderly Lebanese lady. Yes, her neighbours could and should help her out but it is so much nicer for her to feel that she need not ask for favours. It is also highly rewarding to know that she has skills that are valuable to other people.
With modern technology time banks are easy to set up and run. They can be run via a web-site, where members are listed and transactions are done by e-mail and e-accounting. Or they can be run the old fashioned way, like the time bank I saw in Chile, where members have cheque books and sign cheques of time which they deposit into a time bank account. Either way time banks enables people in communities to help each other in a way that is equitable and easy. Time is our most valuable asset. Why not use it well.
Iman Kurdi is an Arab writer based in Nice, France. For comments, write to opinion@khaleejtimes.com
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