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I have a parallel blog in French at http://anniebannie.net

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July 2013

The ‘Afghanization’ of Syria: A Fallacy

In 2011 Assad gave an interview to a Western journalist in which he made the following statement:

Syria is the hub now in this region. It is the fault line, and if you play with the ground you will cause an earthquake … Do you want to see another Afghanistan, or tens of Afghanistans?

Since then there has been a growing narrative which not only blames the West for the instability that we see in Afghanistan today, but which equates Western support for Syrian rebels, especially the Free Syrian Army under General Salim Idriss, as akin to the support given to the Afghan mujahideen during the eighties.

This is wrong. Those who draw comparisons between Afghanistan and Syria in order to discourage foreign intervention in the latter are either ignorant or conveniently ignore a very important fact – it was the invasion and occupation of Afghanistan by the Soviet Union in 1979 which caused the disintegration of the Afghan state today, and it is the Russian (along with Iranian) support of Assad today that is leading to the disintegration of Syria.
Lessons from History

Most people today look at Afghanistan as some formless mess. Somehow the arming of the mujahideen during the eighties led to the formation of al Qaeda and then we had 9/11 and after that the world went crazy. There is nothing factually wrong with that narrative, and states, like people, do make mistakes, however, it is conveniently missing one crucial element – what were the Soviets doing in Afghanistan in the first place?

In 1979 the Soviets overthrew the then ruler of Afghanistan, Hafizullah Amin, for fears that he might have been moving the country away from the Soviet orbit. Amin had previously deposed his opponent, Nur Mohammad Taraki, who had been staunchly pro-Soviet but whose policies were causing widespread unrest and rebellion in the country. Though they were both members of the People’s Democratic Party of Afghanistan, the country’s main Marxist opposition before the toppling of Muhammad Daoud Khan’s government in 1978, the Soviets did not think Amin was reliable enough. On October 31st 1979 the Soviet Union launched a series of coordinated attacks, landing their troops in Kabul, to ouster and eventually kill Amin.

A government under a former Afghan diplomat to Czechoslovakia, Babrak Karmal, was formed, but he could not control the country and came to rely on the Soviet troop presence almost entirely owing to the desertion of large parts of the Afghan army. Although the mutinying Afghan military units were quickly crushed owing to Soviet airpower and ground troops, resistance continued in the country against this occupation. By the start of the eighties the Soviet Union was controlling the urban parts of Afghanistan but could not control the countryside.

In order to subdue the population, a deliberate Soviet strategy was pursued to utterly decimate villages and rural areas that were outside their control. Afghans that did not flee were killed by Soviet aerial attacks, ground assaults, and bombardments of these civilian areas. In total it is estimated that about 1.5 million Afghans died during this conflict.

When the West, as well as China and Muslim countries like Pakistan and Saudi Arabia, provided support to the loosely organized mujahideen, it was in reaction to this ongoing national trauma that the Afghans were enduring.

Anybody who reads about the Soviet invasion and occupation of Afghanistan and its aftermath will quickly note parallels with Russia’s involvement in Syria today. There are even stark similarities to the way Assad’s army is dealing with the Syrian revolution. This is hardly surprising owing to the fact that Syria’s army, like that of most Middle Eastern potentates, relies heavily on Soviet and Russian military tactics and training, as well as weapons.In Syria today large swathes of the country that are outside the regime’s control are rendered uninhabitable and indiscriminate attacks on civilian centres have resulted not only in massive casualties but an enormous refugee problem.

Continued Russian assistance and diplomatic cover for Assad’s brutalization of the Syrian people, and with the direct support of Iran and the Shiite militia Hezbullah, parallels with the Soviet Union’s meddling in Afghan affairs over three decades ago.
Granted, the instability in Afghanistan resulted in the rise of the Taliban and al Qaeda, but it is disingenuous to suggest that the West created these monsters to defeat Communism and then forgot about them. Arguably, the real mistake of the West in Afghanistan was not that stinger missiles were given to the Afghan mujahideen, but that the mujahideen were left alone to pick up the pieces of the Soviet invasion of their country. They were abandoned, and when the ferocious Taliban arose to take over the country in 1992 they strung up the country’s president, Muhammad Najibullah, from a lamp post. Ironically Najibullah had himself been a member of the PDPA and would later become the head of the Afghan equivalent of the secret police.  His death marked the final nail in the coffin for the Soviet Union’s adventure in Afghanistan, but the final dismemberment of the Afghan mujahideen that had fought the Soviet Union’s occupation happened on the eve of 9/11, when the Taliban assassinated the charismatic Ahmed Shah Masoud.

Shah Masoud was an engineering graduate from Kabul university who rose to prominence fighting against the Soviet Union and who rejected the Taliban’s strict interpretation of Islam. People today ignorantly equate the mujahideen who fought the Soviets with the Taliban, ignoring the fact that the remnants of the mujahideen were themselves targeted by the Taliban and eventually destroyed. If anything, we can see in Masoud’s death a severance with an Afghanistan that was a normal country, and its final descent into the madness we now see it in.

Rather than helping the mujahideen that had fought the Soviet Union to a standstill to consolidate and help in maintaining the cohesion of the country, the West left them to their own devices. The abandonment of Afghanistan by the West following the Soviet withdrawal also created the vacuum that allowed the “Afghan Arabs” to coagulate into al Qaeda, and from here the rest of the story is known.
Conclusion

The death of Ahmed Shah Masoud is highly symbolic because it marked the  severance of Afghanistan from its “normal” past, a time when the country had functioning universities and government structures. We have not reached that point yet in Syria, but if Assad is allowed to continue his scorched earth policy, a policy inspired directly by the Soviet treatment of Afghanistan, then that link will be broken. Eventually Syria will run out of university graduates and defected professional soldiers willing to lead its rebellion, and we will reach a stage where we have angry religious men who cannot read continuing to fight for reasons they can no longer remember.
It was the Soviet Union which bore the ultimate responsibility for meddling in Afghan affairs, and for creating the conditions that allowed the Taliban to rise to power. Today Russia is doing the exact same thing when it meddles with Syria by aiding its dictator in crushing a popular rebellion and brutalizing the Syrian people.

Assad is responsible for the worst humanitarian crisis since the Cold War and he cannot be allowed to continue destroying the country with Russian and Iranian assistance. It is inconceivable that a regime like his be allowed to continue ruling the country for fear of an “Afghan alternative” when the reality is that aiding the Free Syrian Army will actually lead to the exact opposite. If we are going to make comparisons with Afghanistan, then we should at least do so for the right reasons, and with a clear understanding of history. To do otherwise will condemn us to repeat it.

source

Syria, This happened last year

The Khatib branch refused to receive me. I was almost finished from beating, and seriously, the colour of my body was changed and my smell was awful. Because, in addition to the fact that I was tortured on the ground, the “popular committees” (Regime militia) urinated over me, and my clothes were full of blood. I wonder how is that I stayed alive up to this moment. All what I know is that the security branch of “Hafez Makhlouf” continued beating me demanding me to confess that I am a terrorist and that I killed soldiers in Qodssaia. (PS: At that moment there wasn’t any presence of the Free Army in Qodssaia).

So, they refused to receive me and they sent me to the hospital of Harasta. There, they received me in the entrances with whips, then, they put me in the toilette and gave me a bottle of water to shower in a minute, and then to wear the clothes of patients. They tied my hands with handcuffs, and they tied me to the bed. They tied my leg to the leg of the patient next to me, and they covered my eyes.

We were three in the same bed; we didn’t know the names of each other. Everyone had a number, and if someone asked you something, your name, age or where were you from, you must give him the number. Because there is always a soldier in the room, if he ever hears you speaking, you can say to this life goodbye.

I stayed tow weeks in the hospital. During this whole period, they only gave me a Cetamol pill. But I was whipped hundreds of times by a soldier named Maen. They turned off about 20 cigarettes in my body, the soldier did it, and the doctor as well. Even the nurse, who visited us occasionally to insult us and to turn off her cigarette; then she walks away, to continue here noble mission.

Citing the page “We are all the Free Ghiath Mattar”

https://www.facebook.com/Ghiyath.Matar

The drawing is by artist: Suhair Al-Sibai

https://fbcdn-sphotos-f-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-ash3/q71/993301_563518600366465_1310046854_n.jpg

On Egypt

Posted by OFF THE WALL

200px-Amal_Abul-Qassem_Donqol

Egyptian Poet Amal Donqol (1940-1983)

It is true that there can be no comparison between the Egyptian Army and the Assad regime armed mafia and security apparatus, but in the end, the army in Egypt did a great harm. To begin with, the political crisis that was brewing in Egypt, deep as it is,  remains a classical political crisis for a developing country just about to join the free world. It is not uncommon  for a political party in such situation to believe that its ballot box victory, even with a slim margin, gives it license to launch major social and political engineering and starts to exclude everyone else, in the absence of firmly established democratic practices and institutions.

This of course is not to belittle the gravity of the MBs failure in Egypt.  And there are many Egyptians and perhaps Syrian refugees living in Egypt who can far better describe the failure and political suicide of the MBs over the past year than I could ever do. Yet, what the army has done is no less than an anti-democratic military coup despite of the fire-works, and the millions of cheering  people in the streets, on TV talk shows, or in living  rooms and coffee shops where trendy people tend to discuss the “islamists” threat and their inability to govern.

I always believed that islamists can not govern in a truly democratic and plural manner, and recent events be it in Turkey or Egypt, along with the abysmal despotic record of Hamas in Gaza, and topped with the  criminal, prehistoric, and stupid practices and decrees of self imposed illegal sharia courts in some  liberated areas of Syria did not reinforce my belief, but only gave me more illustrations of different flavors and degrees of bitterness.

Yet, in Egypt, there was a unique opportunity to solve a  brewing major political crisis through political process. The masses, gathering again in Tahrir square, and with no threat of regime use of military and security forces to squash their movement, had within reach many  peaceful and democratic political tools and actions that could have been taken to force the government and president to resign. This includes but not limited to continued protest, boycotts, and even wide scale nationwide extended civil disobedience.   The army’s rapid, and premeditated interference preempted a political process that would have given the people power even over the army itself. Perhaps that is exactly what the Generals feared.

Some may argue that the political leadership in Egypt failed miserably in establishing the political dialogue required to solve the crisis. But in my opinion, as a Syrian witnessing the catastrophic failure of political leadership within the traditional opposition, or better yet, the complete absence of such leadership, such failure is  the hidden silver lining of the tragedy for it gives the opportunity for the young generation to assume its natural leading role in politics especially in societies as young as those in the Arab region. I know that for fact, for I have met some of the real political leaders of future Syria. Those who are working on the inside, and are tuned to the pulse of their people with no slogans or long poisonous speeches. The military coup has just preempted the rise of the political youth in Egypt in no lesser way than the first military council did by turning a national conscious forming action and movement into a mere election campaign, which is merely a tool.

Then, there is the risk of turning the islamists, once more into the eternal martyrs and victims  and the demonstration, once again, that for Arab secularists, democracy is a relative term since this is the third time in the very recent memory when the islamists favorable ballot box results are thrown away in an Arab country. Echos from Algeria are humming, and knowing what we know today about the dirty role of the Algerian army in that civil war, and the many war crimes  committed by both sides of that conflict, the gravity of the military coup in Egypt begins to sink.

A sad song, a song sung in 1970 by a great poet called Amal Donqol seems very appropriate on this occasion. It is an Arabic warning shout about armies and soldiers. I could not find an appropriate translation, but I hope one day soon to translate this great poem. I hope I am wrong regarding the intention of the Egyptian national army, but nevertheless, damage to democracy has been done. I could not let the Fourth of July, such a great day of my beloved adoptive country; pass without shouting  a warning to the land where civilization was born.

-1-
قلت لكم مرارا
إن الطوابير التي تمر ..
في استعراض عيد الفطر والجلاءْ .
(فتهتف النساء في النوافذ انبهارا)
لا تصنع انتصارا.
إن المدافع التي تصطف على الحدود , في الصحاري
لا تطلق النيران .. إلا حين تستدير للوراء .
إن الرصاصة التي ندفع فيها .. ثمن الكسرة والدواء :
لا تقتل الأعداء
لكنها تقتلنا .. إذا ما رفعنا صوتنا جهارا
تقتلنا , وتقتل الصغارا

-2-
قلت لكم في السنة البعيدة
عن خطر الجنديّ
عن قلبه الأعمى , وعن همته القعيدة
يحرس من يمنحه راتبه الشهريّ
وزيه الرسميّ
ليٌرْهبَ الخصومُ بالجعجعة الجوفاء
والقعقعة الشديدة
لكنه .. إن يحن الموت ..
فداء الوطن المقهور والعقيدة :
فرَّ من الميدانْ
وحاصر السلطانْ
واغتصب الكرسيّ
وأعلن (( الثورة )) في المذياع والجريدة !

-3-
قلت لكم كثيرا
إن كان لابد من هذه الذريّة اللعينة
فليسكنوا الخنادقَ الحصينةْ
(متخذين من مخافر الحدود .. دورا )
لو دخل الواحدُ منهم هذه المدينة :
يدخلها .. حسيرا
يلقي سلاحه .. على أبوابها الأمينة
لأنه .. لا يستقيم مَرَحُ الطفل ..
وحكمة الأب الرزينة
مع المُسدّس المدلّى من حزام الخصر ..
في السوق
وفي مجالس الشورى

********

قلت لكم ..
لكنكم ..
لم تسمعوا هذا العبثْ
ففاضت النارُ على المخّيماتْ
وفاضت .. الجثثْ !
وفاضت الخُوذاتُ والمدرَّعات

أمل دنقل 1970

Moroccan Heaven, Moroccan Hell: A Trip Down ‘Ben Barka Lane’

By on July 6, 2013 • ( 1 )

This summer, an English translation of Mahmoud Saeed’s 1970 novel, Ben Barka Lane, came out from Interlink Books, trans. Kay Heikkinen:

Ben Barka LaneBen Barka Lane follows an unnamed Arab, called al-Sharqi (The Easterner), who has come to Morocco to work as a teacher. Like the author, the narrator fled oppression in Iraq, and is now on his summer vacation in a small town on the Moroccan coast that — on its surface — seems like paradise. The novel is set in the mid-1960s, during Morocco’s “leaden years:” this was the name given to the time that followed King Hassan II’s dissolution of parliament, leftist leader Ben Barka’s assassination, and other crackdowns and arrests.

The book’s setting has the veneer of heaven — beautiful and charming young people, lovely beaches, the warmth and delights of a summer holiday — but as al-Sharqi digs at this postcard-veneer, he turns up layers upon layers of corruption, poverty, and violence.

The English-language reader has a lot to elbow through in the first twenty pages. The characters’ names have much more density in translation, as an English-language reader must memorize names like “al-Sharqi,” “al-Shaqra,” and “al-Jazai’ri,” rather than seeing them as “The Easterner,” “The Blonde,” and “The Algerian.”

We are also introduced to multiple names for the city (Mohammediya / Fadala), the street where the protagonist lives (Zuhur Street / Ben Barka Lane), and his landlord (the Chinaman / M. Bourget) in the first two pages. These multiple namings are important, as they reflect contested identities, but they also create an initial barrier for the reader.

None of this matters after page 20. Once Ruqayya arrives, the novel’s pacing rapidly increases, and it moves into its strength: The love and life entanglements of characters who are all struggling (or have struggled) over the country’s future.

The narrator falls immediately in love with the beatuiful, playful, difficult-to-grasp Ruqayya, who for her part declares her love for al-Habib, one of Morocco’s former leaders, now under strict control by the king’s government. But there is yet another party to this love trapezoid: A former patron of al-Habib’s, the now-uber-wealthy Si Idris, who wants to prove money conquers all.

As the narrator is caught in the struggle between Si Idris, Ruqayya, and al-Habib, he begins to learn more about his adopted country. He sees terribly impoverished farmworkers out on Si Idris’s luxurious estate and, on another day, a cluster of tin shacks, where:

Two children slept near one, in the shade, bathed in sweat, and naked except for the layer of dirt. An emaciated young woman, her eyes hollow, fanned them with a small piece of cardboard. Her pale cheeks were tight over a hidden pain.

But paradise’s pain isn’t just in the form of poverty; it’s also in hopelessness. On an idyllic beach, full of young people, al-Sharqi sees a young man who he imagines “was waiting for a magic stroke of luck that would make one of the European women fall in love with him and extricate him from unemployment, ruin, and the killing wait for something that does not come.”

The translation is generally solid, although not always as light as it might be. There are some jokes that feel closed-off to the English reader — such as calling the protagonist al-Lubnani (not al-Sharqi), as Lebanon is at the absolute edge of the known (Arab) universe. There are also a few parts that could have been more loosely translated or tightly edited, such as: “They began to laugh together in the intimacy she habitually created with anyone she conversed with.”

But, taken as a whole, the book works as both a portrait of a Moroccan coastal town in the pivotal summer of 1965 and as a romantic murder-mystery with larger-than-life characters.

source

Syria: A Revolution Denied

Posted: 04 Jul 2013 05:56 AM PDT
Being democratically elected is not a mandate for riding roughshod over the rule of law. After all everybody knows that the Nazis were democratically elected and yet they unleashed the template for the state sanctioned horror that we are seeing in Syria today. So what are we to make of events in Egypt? My view is that it is both a military coup and a popular uprising against Morsi.

To say it is one or the other, or to pretend as if the Muslim Brotherhood dominated government in Egypt, democratically elected or not, is a victim, is to take a simplistic view of a complex region. There is no denying that in spite of whatever support he could claim, Morsi was deeply unpopular and the numbers and crowds on the street calling for him to go were remarkable. This movement was in the same spirit as the uprising which toppled the Mubarak regime, and as with Mubarak, it was the army which stepped in to remove the unpopular ruler. But the Egyptian generals are the king makers and they cannot themselves rule.

That Morsi or even ten more presidents after him would be toppled is hardly surprising after a period of revolution. There are going to be many more administrations that come and go in this way before the country settles into some form of normalcy, but this should not be taken as a bad thing. In fact it holds excellent lessons for Syrians who are working hard to topple Assad. The removal of a decades long regime is not alone the goal of the Arab spring, but the beginning of opportunity. To put it simply the removal of tyrants will not give people the jackpot but rather it will give them the opportunity to buy the lottery ticket – something they have long been denied.

There are plenty of Assad supporters, the same ones who cheered the protests in Turkey for all the wrong reasons, who think that this vindicates Assad and condemns the revolution in Syria. They are wrong. The Muslim Brotherhood and other Islamist groups enjoy far less support in Syria than they do in Egypt, and if anything the toppling of Mursi shows us that when Assad goes then nobody will have the monopoly on rule anymore. When nobody has absolute power then compromises are necessary, and with Assad no longer able to bomb the country we will see Syrians returning from refugee camps, and civil society and coordination committees operating and communicating freely again. We will also see the kinds of protest scenes that Syrians have long looked to their Egyptian cousins at with envy.

Going back to Egypt, the Egyptian military is ruthless, secular and not to be trusted. It is simply playing a game of swapping heads around to find one that is more acceptable for the masses. But it is no contradiction to support the toppling of Morsi whilst also condemning the military coup that removed him. The battle in Egypt is one for the state, whilst in Syria we do not have a state. As such, the Egyptian army must maintain a some form of adherence to the Egyptian rule of law that everybody is trying to dominate. By contrast, we Syrians have neither a state nor a military institution but rather a private army and a regime to face. As such the unprecedented brutality and national trauma that we’re going through as we fight to remove our own dictator is far worse than anything the Egyptians have gone through. It doesn’t mean their fight is any easier, but it does mean that the forces they are fighting to wrest power from do have a grudging respect for the rule of law. This is probably the only thing stopping the Egyptian military from bombing parts of Cairo and imposing martial law.

This is explained partly because Egypt is an old state something that Egyptians have Muhammad Ali to thank for. Syria, on the other hand, remained under the Ottoman yoke for far longer and so we just didn’t get the experience of state building that the children of the Nile did.
Ironically for us the period of the French mandate did lay the groundwork for some form of a Syrian state, and it was Syrian nationalists who chafed against rule from Paris who laid the groundwork for the country’s independence and statehood through their struggle. The Syrian “Independence” flag of green white and black is today the symbol of that almost forgotten Syrian state and the struggle of our forefathers.

The start of the revolution against Assad might have been an attempt at regaining that national spirit, but this has now been sabotaged by Assad’s overwhelming brutalization of Syrians, causing some deep sectarian rifts to re-emerge. This regime survives by creating crises and then solving them. Denying it the ability to sustain the crisis it has created in Syria will again allow some type of Syrian state to emerge. To do this then his power must be destroyed. Alternatively Assad and his allies must be taught that any transgressions will have painful repercussions directly to him, his regime, and his inner circle unless he agrees to negotiate and abide by the rule of law.

That might all be idealistic to hope for but it is realistic to demand. Until that happens Syrians will continue to look on in envy at the incredible scenes of public protest in Egypt, scenes that they were just starting to get used to before their revolution was denied them.

source

A Turkish hotel that hosts all Syria’s pains and memories

Amal Hanano

Jul 4, 2013

The town of Reyhanli is the Turkish capital for revolutionary activities in northern Syria, and the Hotel Ali Ce is the heart of those operations. Here the abstract concept of “regional spillover,” so popular in analytical articles about Syria, becomes real and personal. The hotel was once a safe haven, as was the town. But now Syria’s violence touches everyone you meet, from the concierge to the guests.

Unlike the lavish hotels that the Syrian political opposition has become accustomed to, the pink and yellow Ali Ce building on the main Reyhanli road is not known for luxury. It is almost impossible to make a reliable reservation, they don’t take credit cards, their showers are extremely moody and you have to ask for your room to be cleaned.

But from morning till well past midnight, dozens of characters gather around the white plastic tables: FSA fighters and generals, aid workers, activists, journalists, Syrian expatriates and refugees and weapons dealers. Once a sleepy hotel in a sleepy town, the Ali Ce has witnessed it all: tortured prisoners, strategic political meetings, secret weapons deals and scandalous stories: “What happens in the Ali Ce, stays in the Ali Ce”.

The out-of-touch political opposition, a world away in Istanbul, is forgotten and ignored here. The connection to Syria and the Syrian people is tangible in border towns like Reyhanli and Killis. Reyhanli’s population has doubled to 60,000 since the revolution began. The town suffered deadly twin car bombings in May but concrete apartment buildings are sprouting up everywhere and the local economy is booming. The fact that the Syrian tragedy is behind this growth is never forgotten.

On my first night, bleary, jet-lagged and relieved that I had a room, I took some dollars from my wallet to tip Mohammed, who had lugged my bags. I was surprised when he refused to take the money, saying with pride “I don’t want your money. I am Syrian”. I learnt later that he had been tortured in one of Bashar Al Assad’s prisons for a year and a half.

Later I opened the window – there was a distant view of olive-trees on Syrian hills, and listened to the morning athan. Everything about this place reminded me of Syria. Sadly, Reyhanli had not been spared my country’s misery. Women and children begged for money on the street, in Arabic.

At Galaxy, a fast-food restaurant, Syrian-style chicken with white garlic sauce was our group’s favourite meal. When I complained that food was much better in Antakya, my friend joked: “Wait 10 years, you’ll eat here like you used to in Aleppo.” We did not laugh.

The Turkish people we interacted with were sources of protection and loyalty. Ahmet, our tough driver, had delivered food to his Syrian friends who could not leave the house for days after the car bombings. He claimed he changed his former “sinful” ways after working for the refugees. He said that he used to commit “2,000 sins a day but now only 1,000”. Ahmet suffered a massive heart attack and had bypass surgery during my trip. When we visited him on our last night in his modest home, he told me: “We are one people. One people.”

At Nazli’s, a hairdresser across the street, I learnt that the Turkish mother’s brother-in-law had been killed in the bombings. I was quiet as she moved the brush through my hair and said over and over: “Why the bombs? Why the bombs?”

Moustafa, a Turkish hotel manager, surprised me one night when I walked in after being out for 12 hours: “Where were you? No one stays in the camp that late. I was worried.” I explained we had dinner before coming back to the hotel. He made me promise to let him know every time we came back from Syria.

One Turkish man in particular affected the lives of everyone who crossed into Syria via the Atmeh border. Hussein, a skinny man with a pudding-bowl haircut that made him look like an ageing Beatle, went from holding a boring government job at this remote outpost to becoming one of the most important men in Reyhanli. He is responsible for signing every person in and out of the Atmeh border. Everyone tries to be on his good side to ease entry and exit, which is not easy because of his flaring temper. For instance, if your name were Bashar, he would change it to Bashir, yelling: “I haven’t written the name Bashar in two years and refuse to start doing that now.”

The last day I crossed into Syria, he learnt my personal information by his heart. He asked jokingly without looking up: “So when are you coming back? I hope you’re not staying for a long time.” Surrounded by dozens of people waiting for hours in the heat to get into Syria – some without papers, others separated from their families, each face etched with the same pain of uncertainty – I burst into tears. He consoled me: “I pray for this nightmare to be over every day. I pray for all of these people to go back to their homes. I pray that you will never have to cross into your country from here again.”

Leaving the hotel after 12 nights, the broken shower head, the hard beds and the quilts and carpets on the plastic partition, were all but forgotten as I looked back at the unlikely group that had gathered on the side street to say goodbye, smiling Syrians and Turks wishing us safe travels and safe returns.

I realised we were part of another kind of regional spillover, one that no one writes about, perhaps because they would be accused of “romanticising” the revolution. Or perhaps in the feverish quest to hunt down and write about the revolution’s horrors instead of its hopes, they just had not experienced it. This spillover was real and personal too – a bond between people and that bleeding land that was within hiking distance. A bond of compassion, determination and love.

By every conventional review standard, Ali Ce fails miserably. But it does what only the best hotels can do: it makes you feel at home. When a hotel or a town can make you feel at home, while you have become estranged by force from your real home, that’s just pure magic. And just like in The Eagles’ song, you can check out anytime you like but you can never leave.

Amal Hanano is a pseudonym for a Syrian-American writer

On Twitter: @AmalHanano

No time for tears – Deutsche Welle

This documentary shows how disappointment about the Western policy towards Syria leads to the radicalization of Anwar, a 28-year-old Syrian teacher. For more than a year I have followed the young man to make this movie. He joined an islamist rebel group mainly because of its superior organization and effectiveness compared to the Free Syrian Army.

Thoughts on the Present Dilemma in Egypt by Azmi Bishara

Azmi Bishara ( Official English Page) · [An edited translation from the Azmi Bishara Arabic facebook page]

1) The Muslim Brotherhood failed to understand the nature of the transitional phase. They failed to grasp that it was not a matter of the strongest party having the right to rule the country, but that all involved had a duty to shoulder the responsibility of governing Egypt. This shared duty of governing meant that they should have involved every single faction in the administration of the country. They should not have fallen into the trap of monopolising power, and thereby  carrying the blame for its failures and difficulties. Instead of denying participation to political factions which supported them during the second round of presidential elections, the Brotherhood should have insisted on those groups taking part in the transitional phase from the very beginning. The dismissal of [generals] Tantawi and Annan [from SCAF] provided the Brotherhood with a moment of power they needed to bring others on board. Instead, the Brotherhood announced the Constitutional Declaration [in November, 2012], and with it, much of the credibility won by Morsi was dithered away. The end result was that other groups began to avoid participation in the transitional phase. Foiling the Brotherhood’s attempts at governance became their new aim. The situation left them with no shortage of justifications to do so.

2) The Brotherhood’s opponents failed to realise that it was institutions dominated by the former regime—the media, the judiciary and other state bodies—which were the main obstacles to the President’s work.

3) The Brotherhood meanwhile did not grasp that they needed to ally themselves with other revolutionary forces in order to face the vestiges of the former regime which remained entrenched within the state. These other groups, excluded from shouldering any responsibility, came to support the remnants of the Mubarak regime, like the General Prosecutor (Attorney General), on the grounds that the actions taken against them were not legally sound. Yet only “revolutionary” and “extra-legal” actions, or a change of the laws, would have made it possible to remove these people. The Brotherhood, bound to take such revolutionary measures, stuck to the book on formalities when others wanted to join in.  Yet they also violated formalities when these stood in the way of their aims.

4) Remnants of the Mubarak regime seized their chance and ratcheted up their agitation against the elected President in an atmosphere of recrimination against the Brotherhood by other revolutionary factions.

5) The estrangement of an elected president in this way, through military intervention, holds out the risk of a spiral of events which may complicate any democratic transition. A further set of dangers is born of the possible conclusions which Islamists might deduce about electoral politics, given that they were excluded from what had been to them an important experience. Will they follow the lead of Turkey’s AKP, becoming ever more democratic with each act of military repression? Or will they instead react against any type of democratic participation? These questions cut to the heart of the democratic experiment and the fate of that experiment, as well attitudes of wide swathes of the public towards it. They should be asked by all responsible people, and are not to be taken lightly.

6) A further problematic is when wide swathes of the revolutionary movements defend a judiciary which constantly issues ruling in favour of the former regime, instead of demanding that this judiciary be reformed.

7) The Brotherhood’s stumbling block has been its partisanship, which is in fact more extreme than their religiosity. This has prevented them from allowing the interests of the nation and society to supersede those of the Party. The fact that they could not see that remnants of the former regime wanted to capitalise on this for counter-revolutionary ends, is a problem.

8) Another problematic has been the silence which has faced the former regime’s ludicrous media rhetoric, steeped in falsehoods and myths. The unjustified agitation against Palestinians is reminiscent of how the Mubarak regime behaved during the 2008/2009 war on Gaza.

9) Democratic revolutionaries must now chart a course through all of these problems and challenges, and cannot remain stagnant when the time comes to distinguish between what can be termed “the revolution within the revolution” on the path to democracy, and a counter-revolution.

10)  The deposition of an elected president is now a moot point: with a national unity government, the date for presidential and parliamentary elections can be brought forward. The act of agreeing on early elections is itself an inherently democratic procedure. The important point at this stage is how the will of a large and important section of the population has forcefully replaced another, and broken it. The desire for a forceful breaking of the will of a section of population will lead to a deep social schism, one which will pose another challenge to the democratic transition. The beneficiaries will be the usual enemies of democracy.

11) The path to democracy is long, and cannot be decided in the space of two short days. There is no need to rush to the barricades.  The important thing is that the generation of the January 25 Revolution remain on course. That generation hold the key to Egypt’s democratic, Arab future, and not the old guard who are sponging off of the youth’s efforts and bickering over the spoils.

Jannah Jannah Homs Tribute

Homs the capital of syrian revolution, a city full of history, pain and glory, salute Homs the epic city. for more pictures visit https://www.facebook.com/LensYoungHom…

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