| |
| Dream Deferred Essay Contest: 2006 Mideast Winners |
|
First Place ($2,000 prize): Tarek Shahin, age 23
Egyptian Apostate Refuses Asylum in the United States
Shahin’s mock news story examines the stark fact that “apostasy is punishable by death under Shariaa (Islamic law).” While addressing one of the most sensitive civil rights taboos in the Middle East, the essay’s factual reportage nonetheless lets readers draw their own conclusions. The sobering result identifies serious obstacles before dissidents, the audacity they will have to summon to make progress, and the need for outside support. Still, difficult questions linger: Who will actually support the cartoonist’s right to free speech? Can he survive even a day without police protection? And will the regime ever allow his views to be aired openly on TV?
(Note: This essay was later published in the Moroccan weekly magazine Tel Quel.)
Breaking News: Egyptian Apostate
Refuses Asylum in the United States
Reuters
31 March 2010
CAIRO, 31 March 2010 (Reuters) -- The Egyptian man who publicly
denounced Islam and whose life has been threatened by Islamic clerics
has refused asylum granted by the United States, a representative of
the United Nations Human Rights Commissioner said on Wednesday.
US President Hillary Clinton had earlier announced the US would grant
asylum to Omar Shukri, a 28-year-old Muslim-born editorial cartoonist,
who declared his agnosticism on Egyptian state television during an
interview last week.
Apostasy is punishable by death under Shariaa (Islamic law).
Hundreds of thousands of protestors had gathered on a main road in the
Egyptian suburb of Nasr City since the cartoonist made his revelation
last week, as Islamic clerics made clear calls for the Muslim youth to
seek Shukri out and kill him.
A representative of the United Nations Human Rights Commission, which
has called for Shukri’s right to free speech and free religion
and sought asylum for him in the US, read a statement by Shukri to
reporters outside his Cairo home, which Egyptian security forces have
been guarding against protestors since Friday morning.
“I would like to extend my sincere thanks to the United States
government for offering to protect my life and civil liberty. It is
with great risk to my own life that I am turning down this asylum grant
for I do not wish to live in a world in which one must seek liberty
away from home. I will have accomplished nothing. I believe in the
Egyptian soul, and I will walk tall in the city of Cairo.”
Shukri has not left his home since Thursday. His family could not be
reached for comment but are believed to be at home with him.
A statement issued by the White House after Shukri’s public
refusal read: “We regret to hear Omar Shukri has declined our
grant for asylum. We assure him that the United States was built by
millions of those who sought liberty away from suppressive societies.
We will, however, work closely with the Egyptian government to ensure
Mr Shukri’s safety against any forms of terror or
persecution.”
The Egyptian Muslim-born graduate of the American University in Cairo
(AUC), who had gained modest fame as a cartoonist with works published
in some of Egypt’s leading Arabic and English newspapers and
magazines, had sparked the controversy during a regular interview on a
popular teen-themed variety show on Egyptian-state television last
Thursday.
As the interviewer discussed Shukri’s latest endeavor into comic
books, Shukri made an impromptu announcement that he is agnostic and
did not believe in a heaven and hell.
“You know, I was just reading about something called apostasy. A
Muslim should die if he does not believe Islam is the right religion.
How is that just? I was born a Muslim but when I grew up, I found the
whole story hard to believe. I’m agnostic. How is that punishable
by death?”
The interview immediately cut to a commercial break and was not resumed.
The announcement made the front pages of local newspapers in Egypt and
across the Middle East on the day following the interview. The Egyptian
interior ministry issued a statement calling for the nation’s
citizens to uphold its majority religion (Islam) and respect its
culture but made no direct reference to Shukri or the interview.
Egyptian law is a sometimes ambiguous blend of Shariaa and French law.
Though many public Egyptian figures had been accused of apostasy in the
past, none have been prosecuted for the ‘crime’ per se nor
has anyone been executed for it.
However, in 1995, an Egyptian court ruled university professor Nasser
Abou Zeid an apostate and by virtue of the ruling he was forced to
divorce his wife under Islamic law. Abou Zeid remains in self-exile in
Europe. A year earlier, Egyptian Nobel Laureate Naguib Mahfouz was
stabbed in the neck and severely injured by a young man who had been
made to believe Mahfouz was an apostate on account of a thematic novel
he had once written.
The Saudi government issued a statement last week saying apostates
should have no place in the world. Iranian President Mahmoud
Ahmadinejad called for Shukri’s death, echoing a similar call
made decades ago by Ayatollah Khomeini regarding British writer Salman
Rushdie.
British Foreign Secretary, Anthony Brosnan, said in a press conference
that he was “sick and tired of having to endure calls for the
murder of innocent civilians guilty of nothing more than expressing
their right to liberty.” In reaction to Shukri’s refusal to
accept asylum, Mr Brosnan said, “I admire this young man’s
bravery and his faith in his homeland but I call for him to consider
his own life and safety for there would be no shame in that. Should he
insist on remaining in Cairo, I call upon the Egyptian government and
people to make this a turning point in the region's move towards
honoring civil liberties."
Mohamed Khalil, 24, who has been protesting in front of Shukri’s
house for days, said the refusal does not make him a hero. “He
deserves to die. It’s God’s will and the will of his
Prophet,” Khalil said.
Two other prostestors, however, said they will go home as they felt
inspired by Shukri’s courage. “Yesterday I called for his
death,” said Magda Ali, 19, “Today I call for his civil
liberty and freedom of thought. He is just as passionate about his
views as I am about Islam. We are both good people.”
Nada Fawzi, a correspondent for the Associated Press and a longtime
friend of Shukri’s, told Reuters on the phone from Paris that she
fears for Shukri’s life after his decision to remain in Cairo
amidst calls for his death but that she would have done the same.
News of Shukri’s determination to stay free at home has also
sparked international support. Competitors in the Australian Open
gathered on the tennis court before yesterday’s game and
repeatedly banged their tennis rackets on the ground to protest
Shukri’s religious persecution.
The US show Entertainment Tonight quoted the spokesperson for Academy
Award nominatee Angelina Jolie as saying the actress plans to wear a
T-shirt with the words “Omar Shukri Is Free. Omar Shukri Is
Home” during her scheduled Wednesday appearance on The Tonight
Show With Conan O’Brien.
The United States grants asylum every year to thousands of refugees and
political and religious asylum seekers. Shukri will be the first to opt
for sanctuary in the very country whose people have made clear threats
to his life and identity.
Second Place ($1,500 prize): M. Salem, age 24
Denied to Protest against Terrorism: A True Story
This essay pulls no punches in exposing the pain and
internal contradictions spawned by civil rights repression: Government
restriction of basic liberties, coupled with scapegoating propaganda in
regime-controlled media, has generated intense misplaced anger in
contemporary Middle Eastern societies. Salem’s firsthand
account of a grassroots anti-terror rally shut down by police also
reveals how dictators and the Islamist opposition effectively suppress
the free expression essential to civil society. Still, support from
motorists driving by the rally reveals a potential that could be
unleashed for positive change.
It is no secret to anyone that Egypt
is a police-state, where freedom of speech and expression are
non-existent as rights. There are certain topics and points of view
that are not allowed to be expressed publicly, if at all. Needless to
say, this makes any debate severely one-sided and hinders any sort of
mental or creative development or change of opinions for that matter.
None so essential these days as the right to protest Islamic extremism
or terrorism, which – based on my own personal experience and to
my surprise – I have come to discover that the Egyptian
government opposes.
It was always bewildering to me how much support there was for Osama
Bin Laden or Zarqawi on the Egyptian street, coupled with extreme
anti-American sentiment. This was also a great source of shame to me as
it culminated in seeing Egyptians dancing on the street the day 9/11
happened. It blew my mind that the people would be so happy that
thousands of Americans were killed, or that so many would be supporting
Saddam Hussein, when his atrocities were so well known. However,
watching Egyptian TV channels and media, one could get a few clues to
why that is: The theme that was presented was pretty much
‘Anti-America: 24/7,’ which by default meant sympathizing,
and in some cases championing, those who opposed the U.S., even if
those were despicable tyrants or murderous terrorists.
This, as I have come to find out and believe, was no accident at all,
but more of an unofficial state policy. Attack the U.S. 24/7, get the
people to focus their hate and aggression on Americans, and they
won’t hate us (i.e., the oppressive government) as much. This is
why the Egyptian media almost never calls terrorists
“terrorists,” but chooses an array of other descriptions
that range from “resistance fighter” to
“mujahed”, and when they get killed or blow themselves up,
they are always called “martyrs.” It is also why the only
demonstrations that the Egyptian government allows and approves are
anti-U.S. demonstrations, which it later uses as visual evidence to the
U.S. of “why it’s important to support their regime”
and turn a blind eye to its oppressive methods, otherwise the “We
want the USA dead” crowd would take over, and no one wants that,
right?
Interestingly, if you go to the same guy shouting death to America and
inform him that you could get him a green card to the U.S., he would
very quickly throw his sign on the ground, praise you for being such a
great person, and will tell you how much he needs to go there to make
money. After witnessing that phenomenon a couple of times personally, I
have come to conclude that the majority of Egyptians who join those
protests and shout their lungs out in them do so not out of U.S. hate,
but because it is the only chance they get to vent their anger and
frustration. Those people are so oppressed and denied any outlet to
their frustrations that they will take whatever they can get, and will
often find themselves taking positions that they may not be convinced
of, or wouldn’t like to take, if given a chance. This is true to
almost all Egyptians, even ones in the police, as my experience of
staging an anti-terrorism protest has shown me.
When the Sharm El Sheikh attacks happened last July in Egypt, I was so
outraged that I and a group of other young Egyptians took the
initiative to start an anti-terrorism protest in Cairo. Our message was
clear: to tell those peddlers of death, who aim to destroy our way of
life and are using Islam as a cover for their disgusting evil murderous
actions that we are not afraid of them. That what is happening is not
happening in our name, or in the name of Islam, and to show the world
that we are not like those people, that our religion is not a religion
that glorifies death, that such actions disgust and repulse us too. We
agreed that the best location to convey our message to the world would
be on the 6th of October Bridge at rush hour, and that is what we did.
We chose a spot that has the Nile in the backdrop, and started holding
the banners in the view of the incoming and outgoing traffic. The
people’s response exhilarating and affirming in its consistency:
astonished at first that something like this was happening and then
showing their support by either honking or giving us the thumbs up. The
common Egyptian shared our sentiment and our disgust with terrorists.
The people were with us, just as I knew they would be. And then the
Egyptian police showed up.
The police came and asked us what we were doing and if we could go. We
explained to him that we were protesting against terrorism, not against
the regime. The policeman told us he was actually happy that we were
doing this, but he has his orders from the officer at the middle of the
bridge, and he didn't want us on his territory. Not wanting any
trouble, we agreed to get off the bridge and move to another location,
where the story repeated itself again, this time with 2 officers and 2
soldiers.
They asked us to leave the area and stop our rally, even though they
thanked us for doing it and told us that they were with us in heart.
The problem, as one of them told me, was that they have been on high
alert ever since the bombings and it seems that someone reported us.
Now the police honchos intended to send cars to arrest us all, and
that’s something they didn’t want happening. I could sense
the guy was sincere and really didn’t want to do this, and I
could hear the buzz of the guy's walkie-talkie, with the police general
on the other side, inquiring about the situation and wondering if any
riots erupted yet. The police officer assured him that it was all under
control, and then asked us to leave again, informing us that he would
have to arrest us if we did not go.
Needless to say, at this point I was starting to lose my temper, and
responded angrily: "So this is our reward from you guys for standing up
against what happened? We are actually doing this for this country.
Because we are disgusted by what happened. And that's how we are
treated? We are sorry for condemning those terrorists and standing
against them then!" The first officer looked really torn and dismayed
and the other one responded: "Look, God knows we are with you and share
what you believe and think. And if it were up to us we would let you
guys stay. What you are doing is a wonderful thing and God knows we are
not against you. We lost friends and colleagues in those bombings. But
it's the higher-ups. They don’t care what you stand for. They
just want to assure that no ‘hassles’ occur in their zones."
And that was that! We dispersed awhile after that, leaving me
conflicted about my anger at the police for stopping our peaceful
protest and how sorry I felt for them for having to do something they
so clearly opposed, but were ordered to do by the higher-ups. The
people in power were so afraid of any form of spontaneous protests,
that they would even prevent those that were in their favor or best
interest to have. But then again, I wasn’t really surprised,
because it wasn’t an anti-U.S. protest after all.
After that day, I looked at statistics that the majority of Egyptians
support Bin Laden and Zarqawi and wondered: How many had a dissenting
thought or opinion but were forced to dismiss it? How many of them knew
deep down that there was a connection between those terrorist acts and
the growing anti-Muslim sentiment the world over, but said nothing out
of fear of being criticized by his Bin Laden-approving peers? How many
Egyptian journalists look at the atrocities committed by the mujahedeen
against the Iraqi people and hold their nose as they are forced due to
editorial policy to describe them as “martyrs”? And how
many wanted to walk into a protest that condemns terrorism and scream
his heart out against those killers and never got the chance to,
because he was afraid of the police arresting him?
I guess we will never know for certain, but I have a nagging feeling that there are more than we could possibly imagine.
Third Place ($500 prize): Roba Assi, age 20
-Pause-
A compelling collage featuring snippets of Langston
Hughes’s poetry and snapshots of a young woman’s
tribulations advocating for basic equality and free expression. When
challenged to accept her limited role in society, Assi responds with a
simple but profound truth about individual rights: “I have
formed my own political and economic opinions, and I believe that they
should be respected.” While lamenting the obstacles before
her, Assi defines her struggle as laying a solid groundwork for the
next generation and expresses confidence that her dream, rather than
collapse, will burst forth.
- Play -
Amman, Jordan
March, 2006
(What happens to a dream deferred?)
Being all a feminist, a classical liberal, and a Muslim Arab woman, I know I am amongst a minority.
This fact shines bright in the faces of those around me. It scratches
itself against my ears in my everyday conversations with friends, loved
ones, and cab drivers. It is visualized in the graffiti covering the
walls of my beloved city, embodied in orange spray-paint uttering
statements that shy away from our own faults as a society, as a
religion, and as an Arab nation.
(Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun?)
Why, they ask, aren't you satisfied with the fact that you can drive
and work wherever you want although you are a woman? Why, they demand,
can't you just accept the law of God without trying to speak out
against that which is divine? Why, they wonder, don't you know that by
classifying yourself as a liberal, you are only helping accomplish the
Western agenda against the Muslim nations?
(Or fester like a sore-- And then run?)
My mind rushes to answer these questions; because women’s
representation in Arab parliaments does not exceed a blushing 6%.
Because I do not have the right to speak my mind about all issues.
Because as a woman, I am not equal to men in the eyes of law and
society. Because every day, I see how tribal law still wins over civil
law. Because I have formed my own political and economic opinions, and
I believe that they should be respected.
(Does it stink like rotten meat?)
My mind rushes to answer these questions, but most of the time, my lips
stay sealed. I do not live at a place – nor a time – where
I can speak my mind without worrying. The saddest part? I stay quiet
not out of fear of regimes and rule, but rather, out of fear of
convictions, society, and ignorant mentalities.
(Or crust and sugar over-- like a syrupy sweet?)
A few weeks ago, a professor of mine asked the class if anyone was
aware of the cartoon incident that has been keeping this area of the
world quite busy. Most of the students raised their hands, but upon
further inquiry, it was settled that none had actually seen the
cartoons or knew the exact details, because it was deemed heretical and
punishable by law to publish the cartoons in local newspapers. So the
professor started telling the students the details of the cartoons
– the details according to him, very subjectively. I, already
angered by the Muslim reactions to the cartoons, spoke up in
disagreement about both the details and his opinion.
(Maybe it just sags like a heavy load.)
… I was asked to leave the class.
- Forward -
Amman, Jordan
July, 2029
I look at my daughter and I smile. I see a little of myself in her
– I see the revolution, I see the zeal, I see the need to
attaining perfection.
Yet, that's not why I smile – I smile because these traits are
being poured into battles that I did not get the chance to fight, she
is fighting the battles that I was fighting to fight. How funny that
sounds!
As a child, I was asked to stay hush about issues pertaining to
tribalism and conviction, because these issues were surrounded by a
series of "givens" which no one could control. Once, my mother refused
to talk to me for a day because I "failed" to appreciate the simple
fact that while I was asking for trivial rights such as a woman's
entitlement to receive an equal inheritance, other women in the Arab
world did not even have the right to vote. During my third year at
Jordan University, I was asked to leave a class because my opinion
about a certain religious issue didn't conform to the opinion of the
majority of the people around me.
Somewhere along, I realized that we are taught that individuals are
impotent, unable to influence society. I realized that in order to
motivate a much needed change, we must start talking about society,
criticizing it, and asking for what every human has the right to have.
I realized that my voice must be heard.
Today, my daughter stands straight, an important member in a secular
society not dominated by a specific agenda, gender or creed. Her head
is high as she speaks about issues in regards to social, political, and
religious reform.
I am proud of her, but I am also proud of the audience. It took time,
it took sacrifice, and it took hard work, but today, just looking at
the audience, I smile because I was fortunate enough to see the day
when the dream exploded. Not exploded in the sense that it collapsed
– rather, the dream erupted, then it shone!
Today, the part of the world that I hail from has finally realized the
dream; my dream, the dream of many before me, the dream of many after
me. This dream is of acceptance, the acceptance of ideas; where leaders
and citizens make arguments, listen, exchange ideas and change their
minds.
Of course, we still have a long way to go, for after all, achieving
civil rights and societal equality is a long, uphill battle. But for
now, I'm smiling over the work that has been done and hope for an even
bigger smile tomorrow. We must continue to fight, so that we move
forward – together.
(Or does it explode?)
Third Place ($500 prize): M. El Dahshan, age 22
Just Another Day in 2010
El Dahshan invites readers to
share his hopeful vision
of an imperfect yet burgeoning free society. His essay discusses the
basic reforms required for a new civic dynamism: essential rights of
self-expression, government accountability, and respect for the
political economy of freedom. A walking tour illustrates the tangible
impact such changes could have, as the author browses a newspaper
article on government corruption and passes by a student rally. In a
moment of optimism, despite the odds, the author concludes by
responding to Langston Hughes with a poem of his own about a dream
ripened and spread via a “Zephyr’s
breath” wind from the west.
As I drank my morning
coffee, I noticed I was running a little late. I burned my tongue
swallowing the hot beverage, and at my feeble expression of agony, my
wife (yes, we got married last year!) laughs at me – "Again?"
I'm late for work, I guess I'll have to take my car, the bus takes too
long in the morning traffic. I bought this car a little while ago, now
that the GATT's provisions are finally applied and the government no
longer uses every protectionist gimmick in the book to avoid
liberalising trade. Free trade and competition are by default
beneficial for consumers, freeing us from the despotic monopoly of
state-owned enterprises overcharging for goods and services of mediocre
quality. I can even see it in my phone bill, in my grocery shopping,
but less so in my wife's still pricey new Italian shoes!
Economic freedom is a blessing. Heavy-handed government intervention is
a real mistake: it only leads to inefficiencies, never offset by any
gains that the Treasury might acquire in tax revenues.
But economic freedom is not a panacea, and its effects may be aborted
by the absence of political freedom and the lack of institutional
reforms. It is therefore up to us, informed citizens, to monitor the
government's activities, and to ensure that it abides by the
international regulations and by the agreements it has signed, and to
undertake the reforms it has promised, but has not honoured its word.
I stopped to buy some newspapers. Did I mention that freedom of press
is now a constitutional right? We are now free to found newspapers and
to express our opinions, and even the most dissident voices are now
free to express their thoughts. And just as we expected, the citizens
were fully capable of operating a perfect selection, discarding the
most extremist voices – the government's favourite excuse to
muzzle dissidents! – and giving its attention only to the
ongoing political debates between different political ideas.
We have achieved partial political freedom, too. Party creation is no
longer regulated by the government - quite about time, since all
requests for founding a party have been rejected in the past two
decades. It isn't yet what we wish for: political transition still
seems like a dream, but the dream is getting closer every day.
My car gets stuck in a traffic jam near Liberation square: it's a
demonstration organised by the students of the National University. I
smile at the sight of the students walking in order and silence, under
the protection of the police which helps regulate the traffic. A little
bruise on my left shoulder, left by a blind blow from an ignorant
soldier reminds me of the times when we walked to protest the
government's nonchalance towards the lives of its citizens, after a
series of man-made disasters where the carelessness of the authorities
was only surpassed by their incompetence in dealing with the crises.
Was it so long ago? No, it was not. Less than ten years were enough for
us to operate such a change. The government is now held accountable for
its actions. What a change! But it is just the beginning.
I take advantage of the traffic jam to start browsing the newspapers I
bought. There is an interest article about the former corrupt Minister
of housing. He now lies in jail for massive fraud. I cannot say I feel
sorry for him! We wished for that to happen for a long time, but the
man has always been a protégé of 'higher powers'
and was therefore untouchable. But he was successfully brought to trial
a few months ago. Isn't it ironic... that the man who embezzled funds
allocated to the construction of low cost housing - construction which,
needless to say, never took place - now lives in a 24 meters square
cell! There is justice in this world after all. It just took us a while
to realize that justice does not fall from the top, it stems from the
heart of society, and those who do not seek their justice shall not
obtain it. We learned that, among many other lessons, the hard way.
I quickly flip the pages to the column of my friend Ingy. Ingy is a
fantastic journalist, fearless and bold; caustic and critical, yet
honest. She now writes in a newspaper that she helped establish four
years ago - 2006 was a great year for the press! She is now in charge
of the local politics section, and writes a daily column in which she
exposes the government's misbehaviour. Today's article criticises the
prime minister who is suspected of illegally awarding a number of
contracts to a foreign company after having received large kickbacks.
She calls for larger transparency in the government budget
allocation. I fully agree with her, the budget needs to be
overseen by the parliament and, if need arises, by an independent court
of auditors.
Isn't it an obvious requirement, that governments must be monitored?
Well, for a long time, it was not that obvious here. And the day we
realised that, we were incapable of implementing it or even formulating
such a request. But today, we have taken giant steps towards achieving
full monitoring of the government activities.
Not long ago, Ingy received threats for criticising the minister of
Interior. While, thankfully, nothing ensued from those threats, the
situation proved that there is still much to be done in order to ensure
our civil rights.
I finally reached my office – this traffic is crazy! We
should do something about that! Unfortunately, the policies of the
government have failed to encourage the urban population to move to the
suburbs and towns surrounding the metropolis, because of the immense
concentration of power and of government services within the city, and
the lack of infrastructure in those small towns that burgeoned in the
desert.
A critical level of decentralisation needs to be achieved before we can
attempt to convince people to relocate their lives to another town;
transport infrastructure needs to be put in place to ensure their
freedom of movement; all services, including schools and hospitals need
to be provided by their new residencies.
The government has traditionally been wary of going the
decentralisation road, because a less centralised power entails the
emergence of other political actors: local representatives, governors,
a whole new class of active and accountable politicians which will be
claim real power from the government in order to answer the demands of
their constituencies.
That is part of my responsibilities at work. I can read in your eyes
stark disbelief. Yes, I work for the government, now. Does it sound
odd, for someone who had such high hopes for my country like myself?
When I first came home from the United States, I had big, big dreams
– and I wanted to see them all happen at once.
But life has taught me that this is not the way things work, and that
everything comes to those who wait. Change does not occur suddenly:
rather, it is by diligent work and continuous effort that every dream
can turn into a reality. Dreams do come true, mountains can move. No
matter how long one has to wait, with perseverance, a strong will and
dedicated work, we can move this mountain! But the task is not easy.
And there will be times when, with the dream seeming further and
further away, that we will want to give up, to keep the dream tucked
away in our imagination, and to lack the courage of materialising it.
It will be hard to motivate myself sometimes, I am aware, when I will
feel that I am swimming against the current, when I feel that my
efforts are feeble and meaningless. But I remember that my work is
operating towards the freedom of my country and the rights of my fellow
citizens. And this is what keeps me going everyday, is what gets me out
of bed every morning.
It is often from the inside that one can have the biggest impact, I
know this now. A drastic, overnight change can trigger unexpected
reactions and can backfire in the worse results.
Things have changed in my country in the last few years. Women have
claimed and obtained a larger role in society, though still less that
than the equitable share that accrues to them. Furthermore, our
minister of foreign affairs is a lady – whom I greatly admire
and trust to put our foreign policy back on track.
Interestingly enough, our foreign policy is becoming more consistent.
We have achieved a considerable rapprochement with our principal
allies, and are now consolidating our regional relationships with our
neighbours, including those we have shunned for so long: real politics
and economic advantages are finally insufflating reason into archaic
ideologies. We are regaining our natural leadership position in the
region, which has been tarnished by the foolish actions of the old
governments.
Things are changing. Slowly, but surely. I've matured, and so has my
country: we are both ready for change. I never gave up my dreams:
instead, I decided to rise to their level, so close that I can reach
out and touch them, pick them like ripe fruits. I know that, someday
soon, I will. It will take a lot of efforts. It will take people like
my friend Ingy, people like those students marching to protest the
government's actions and, I hope, people like myself. Dreams do come
true, no matter how long we wait for them. And this will come from a
citizen-based action that will impose reform and will establish freedom
and civil rights as a way of life.
It's just another day in my town in 2010.
--------------------------
This is my attempt to reply to Langston Hughes' piece that inspired
this essay contest.
Langston Hughes got it all wrong...
"What happens to a dream deferred:
It will tan in the sun
It won't dry, it won't die;
Like the skin of the peasants
Working on a summer solstice,
It will grow dark, little rough,
Stronger than the elements
It will smell like the breeze
And the orange blossom
And a beautiful morning
It will bloom, proud
Shinier than the Sun
And Zephyr's breath
Will carry its scent
A scent well known,
A scent long missed
It will drown
The foulness of tyranny
The hand of the despot
Will not harm again
For freedom, today, is mine."
Third Place ($500 prize): Taha Belal, age 22
Parallels between Art and Society
This elegantly written exposé explores how
artistic censorship reflects larger civil rights restrictions that
hinder social development and human potential. By taking readers inside
Middle Eastern art galleries and exhibitions, Belal demonstrates
concrete manifestations of repression in a field that cannot thrive
without free thought. The essay provides an unusual and compelling
argument for the importance of critical thinking and open inquiry.
Recently the world caught a glimpse
of the global battle for individual rights in the events that followed
several European newspapers publishing controversial cartoons of the
Prophet Mohamed. Protests throughout the Muslim world erupted, flags
were burnt and embassies were attacked. The European newspapers stood
firm in defiance stating that the publication of the cartoons was their
right to the freedom of speech. Many Muslims, however, saw it as
blasphemy and an insult to Islam. The events that transpired as a
result of the cartoons reflect the heated nature and differences in
values that the world must face when dealing with individual rights. In
a world of increasing globalization, where the interaction of different
cultures and ethnic groups continues to rise, individual rights have
become more important than ever. Everyday in instances throughout the
world, both noticed and unnoticed by the public media, it is clear that
individual rights continue to be overlooked and disregarded.
The Middle East is an area with a blemished individual rights record
and one that is still a far cry from much of the developed world.
Individual rights remain one of the biggest stumbling blocks to the
development of the region. A variety of forms of expression, ranging
from sexual to religious, have all been oppressed. It is high time for
drastic change: the Middle East desperately needs to free itself from
the shackles of stagnation and finally begin its ascent to become a
part of the world that is recognized as truly free. It can become an
area that once again attracts a variety of intellectuals and thinkers,
stimulates creative growth and provides a culturally rich environment
for the development and progress of society.
As an artist, born and raised in Cairo, Egypt, the lack of individual
rights and the block of creative development that results is of
particular importance to me. It was only when I began to study in the
United States and experienced the differences in culture first-hand
that I realized I needed to understand more about myself and the many
facets of identity. As an art student granted free reign to explore, my
artwork touched on a variety of identity issues such as politics,
language and culture; much of my work also referenced sensitive and
taboo subjects such as sexuality and religion.
After completing my undergraduate degree in fine arts in the United
States, I returned home to Cairo. Wearily accepting that it would be
difficult to exhibit in Egypt due to the nature of some of my work, I
nonetheless decided to research exhibition opportunities. Previously, I
had seen several exhibitions at a gallery (one of the few exhibition
areas independent of the government) dedicated to showing contemporary
artwork and decided to get in touch with the director. After showing
the director my portfolio, he informed me that although some of the
work could potentially be shown and would probably narrowly escape the
scrutiny of government officials, the others were simply impossible to
display. To prove his point, the director cited an instance where the
gallery had been forced to close an exhibition that was seen as
blasphemous by the government; even after the gallery won a court case,
the artwork remained confiscated. I was also secretly shown an
exhibition catalog hidden away in one of the director’s drawers.
It was the work of a Lebanese artist who had previously exhibited at
the gallery many times, but with this particular work that was
commenting on Islam, it could only be shown abroad with no publicity in
Cairo.
I was quickly brought to my senses and grounded realizing that it was
still a dire situation for artists in Egypt. After spending the
majority of the previous four years abroad as an art student, it was
easy to forget the censorship issues at home. Later that summer, I
showed a friend of mine working in Cairo some of my most recent work.
His response was the same; I could forget about exhibiting the work in
Egypt, and he also mentioned that it would be a good idea not to show
the work to anyone else. I was left frustrated, helpless and able to
relate to an artist quoted in Douglas Kennedy’s book Beyond the
Pyramids, which is banned in Egypt. The artist states that
although one is able to make what he or she wants within a small
community, the “problem is that, in Egypt, you make what you want
inside a cage” (Kennedy 33).
It became clear to me that the impact of this creative block due to the
lack of individual rights was destroying the possibility of any
prominent or high level art developing in Egypt. All the art that I had
seen was mundane, uninteresting and hardly anything that would provoke
thought. In exhibitions such as the annual Youth Salon, allegedly
showcasing some of Egypt’s finest young and emerging artists, I
found that the art floated around similar ideas that at best flirted
with boundaries but never comes close to breaking through or going over
the edge. I did not see how anything shown could possibly jolt one into
critical thought processes.
Even the grand 9th Cairo Biennale which called itself the
“largest international exhibition in the Arab world” was
described by Lilly Wei, a writer for Art in America, as an opportunity
wasted on “dated, uninspired, provincial work with almost nothing
that stood out” (1). It was the same at the recently
re-inaugurated Museum of Modern Art in Cairo, where most of the work
never strayed from traditional landscapes or tame abstract works and
failed to feed my desire for thought, reflection and inquiry.
These mechanisms and policies have starved Middle Eastern society of
artists’ voices by keeping them away. Whether by force or by
choice, well-established artists such as Shirin Neshat from Iran and
Ghada Amer from Egypt currently live abroad. Both are critically
engaged with prominent Middle Eastern cultural issues such as gender
inequality in Islam. I fear that my voice and ideas will also be kept
away.
As an artist, I learned and believe that asking questions is a crucial
aspect of art. Whether the questions are about art itself or about
society, art must ask people to think. Art and those affected by it are
only able to develop and progress through constant dialogue, exchange
and critical thinking. As a result, it is not at a standstill but
continues to push and redefine its edges. Currently, however, art is
being prevented from achieving its goals and purpose of keeping society
“in a state of intellectual inertia, thereby guaranteeing the
perpetuation of the status quo” (Heggy). Although the censorship
of art is only part of the greater problem that societies in the Middle
East face today, it is nonetheless a clear reflection of the broader
perspective.
As with art, how can society develop and progress in an environment
where individual rights are readily infringed upon, where the slightest
criticism or questioning is done away with, and boundaries and limits
are set to control those who attempt to break through? It is impossible
for a society to move forward without looking back upon itself
critically while simultaneously encouraging and accepting creative
solutions to its problems.
Works Cited:
Heggy, Tarek. “Islam between copying and thinking.” Tarek Heggy. 28 March 2006.
Kennedy, Douglas. Beyond the Pyramids Travels in Egypt. Great Britain: Unwin Hyman, 1988
Wei, Lilly. The Cairo effect: during the 9th Cairo Biennale a striking
contrast prevailed between the staid official event and several
livelier satellite exhibitions. Art in America. May 2004: 1. Find
Articles. 28 March 2006.
|
|