Dream Deferred Essay Contest: 2009 Mideast Winners

An article from the future peels back the story behind a successful nonviolent campaign for women’s right to drive in Saudi Arabia. The heroines, inspired by Rosa Parks, refuse to be relegated to the backseat. Realizing that citizens need to accelerate the pace of reform, they literally slip into the drivers’ seat and put their carefully nurtured network into action. The article’s vivid prose almost makes the campaign seem real - a sign that such success just might be achievable via effective grassroots organizing.

S.B.Z., Saudi Arabia, Age 19
Driving Towards Equality

January 3, 2012

RIYADH, SAUDI ARABIA –

Unlike most young girls who grow up playing with Fulla or Sara dolls – Barbie-style dolls marketed to children in the Middle East – Fatima Al-Abdulaziz, 19, used to zoom Ferrari and Lamborghini models across the carpeted floor of her Riyadh villa when she was young. As Al‑Abdulaziz grew older, she stopped racing the cars in her living room. Yet, the model cars continued to hold a special place in her heart and the ruby red and canary yellow model cars were lovingly displayed on a stand beside her bed.

When once asked why, Al-Abdualaziz responded: “I know I will never be permitted to drive a car in actuality. I live out my fantasy of driving through these toys. Every night before going to bed, I look at these cars and dream of a day when I, too, will be able to drive.”

Today, however, Al-Abdualaziz beams as she opens the door to her family’s four-door sedan, and sits – not shotgun or in the backseat as usual – but in the driver’s seat. Her dream has become reality.

Yesterday, in the culmination of a suffragette-style movement, the women of Saudi Arabia attained the right to drive a car. Spearheaded by Hala Al-Amer, the movement began in early 2009 when Al-Amer, then 24, picked up an Arabic translation of To Kill a Mockingbird from a local bookstore. The famed Harper Lee novel opened her eyes to the world of the American Civil Rights Movement and triggered Al-Amer to research it further. This in turn introduced her to personalities like Martin Luther King, Jr. and W.E.B. Du Bois.

But it was when Al-Amer read about Rosa Parks and how her actions symbolized the beginning of the end of racial segregation in the United States that Al-Amer realized that anyone, even women, can make a difference in society. The restriction of African-Americans to the back of buses reminded Al-Amer all too well of the restriction of women in Saudi Arabia to the backseat of cars.

Al-Amer was fed up with hearing tales of women who had died in their homes because there was no male at home at the time to transport them to a hospital emergency room. She had also seen far too often boys as young as nine or ten driving large SUVs because there was no other male in the household who could take the female members out. Even in regards to her own family, Al-Amer was tired of waiting for her younger brother to come home from college, or her father to come home from work, so that she could go to her friend’s house, or so her mother could merely buy some bread and eggs.

Al-Amer felt it was high time for change in her homeland. She realized that if women in the Kingdom were to ever attain equality with men, they would have to commit the same acts of defiance as Rosa Parks.

At first, Al-Amer was not sure how to best approach her idea of civil disobedience. She recalled how in November of 1990 forty-seven Saudi women drove through the streets of Riyadh in efforts to protest laws prohibiting them from driving. The women were imprisoned and their extended families were publicly chastised. As a result, a similar protest appeared to be a futile step towards female emancipation in Al-Amer’s eyes – at least at first.

After one particular evening of intense Facebooking and web surfing, Al-Amer realized that there was a particular tool that the women of 1990 did not have. What was this secret weapon? The Internet.

With this resource, Al-Amer decided to form a network of like-minded individuals. She created a blog urging women’s equality and discovered that many people held similar views as hers. Within a week, her blog had more than five thousand hits.

“I expected to face a lot of opposition,” Al-Amer recalls. “However, almost everyone I communicated with agreed with me when I said that restrictions on women driving have no basis in religion. It’s all cultural.”

Al-Amer began to blog more and more passionately, and soon enough, she formed a virtual clandestine group with twenty other Saudi women known as “Dames Requiring Implementation of Vehicular Equality,” or D.R.I.V.E. These women individually networked out to other women in their respective communities against driving restrictions in Saudi Arabia, and the group grew exponentially.

By mid-2010, D.R.I.V.E. had more than one thousand members. On the eve of 2011, D.R.I.V.E. had more than five thousand members. It was rumored that nearly every household had at least one woman in the group. However, the association worked under such hushed pretenses, that the association acquired characteristics of a secret society.

Throughout 2011, the association worked undercover throughout the Kingdom to legalize women’s driving. Flyers and posters demanding women’s right to drive began to pop up in the malls of Riyadh, Jeddah, and Dammam. Shortly after that, they appeared in mosques and invoked religious traditions, demonstrating that women during the Prophet’s time, including his wives, rode camels. “Had they been alive now, they would have driven cars!” exclaimed one flyer. They were all signed solely as “D.R.I.V.E.”

A national witch-hunt was instigated to combat the root of these civil disobediences, but there was no way of uncovering the leadership. D.R.I.V.E. included some women specializing in Information Technology, meaning no digital paper trail was left. The Saudi populace began rumbling about this highly contentious issue in a way never seen before. Change appeared to be close.

The piece de resistance, however, occurred on November 6, 2011, 21 years to the day after the failed 1990 protest. More than 3,500 cars appeared in the streets of Riyadh blocking the road towards the airport. Similar protests took place in the other major cities of the country. All cars were driven by members of D.R.I.V.E. In other words, all cars were driven by women.

A protest on such a mass scale was never seen before in Saudi Arabia. While some protesters, including Al-Amer, were arrested, it was impossible for police to arrest all of the dissenters. As a result, for the first time in Saudi history, women led a largely successful demonstration.

To protest the imprisonment of the D.R.I.V.E. members, citizens from the entire spectrum of society—male and female, famous celebrities and average people, young and old—began to lead protests on the streets. Riots erupted in the capital and other important cities.

When interviewed why she was protesting the streets despite putting her entire family at risk, Reema Al-Omar, 43, replied: “We have been hearing that the new King [Abdullah] will allow women to drive. But it’s been nearly seven years now, but nothing has been done.”

Mona Al-Hussein, 29, another protester, said, “Women are fifty percent of the population, and one half of the population cannot suppress the other. It’s time we take our own matters into our own hands.”

After a month of marches all across the country and a Gandhian-style hunger strike by the imprisoned D.R.I.V.E. members, even the international community began to take note. As international pressure forcing Saudi Arabia to legalize women’s right to drive increasingly mounted, the government finally penned a new law enabling women to drive. The decree passed on January 2, 2012 and Hala Al-Amer and the other protesters were released.

And so, yesterday marked the first day when the famed, palm tree-lined Tahlia Street of Riyadh had not only young men speeding their coupes, but where women driving through the streets, with black headscarves fluttering in the desert wind, could also be seen.

The story of a young Iranian woman’s relationship with her grandmother becomes a moving lesson about reconciling tradition and modernity to ensure civil rights for all. The essay’s backdrop is a society where ideologues have made religion an overt political program. But as grandmother and granddaughter educate one another, the author points to a society where people can be religious without imposing civil rights restrictions on others. The spirit underlying the essay is in part what bubbled forth in Tehran’s recent street protests.

B.A., Iran, Age 20
A Grandmother in Tokyo

When I was a child I lived with my grandparents in one of Tehran’s poorest districts, called Nezam-Abad. My parents divorced when I was two: my father went to India to continue his studies and my mother returned to her hometown.

I went to a public school very close to my grandfather’s house. I would walk to class every day passing by a mosque. I traversed this path for the five years of elementary school. It was during this period of my life that my little brain became the hostess to all kinds of musings and dreams. Maman – what I call my grandmother – was the only one willing to lend an ear to my naïve curiosities.

Father’s was a large family. My grandparents had seven children, my father being their second. Most of my aunts and uncles had married. They all called my grandma “Abji.” I was the only one calling her “Maman.” She was the only person I would confide in during those years of solitude.

Maman, or Abji, could not read or write. She was very religious and was very meticulous about her daily prayers, fasts, and other rituals. I grew up with her spiritual way of looking at everything.

I think I was at the third grade when our teacher of religion told us to memorize the names of all the twelve Imams. Back at home, no matter how hard I tried, I could not cram the names into my tiny head. Crying, I went to Maman crying desperately: “I just can’t remember them!”

“Remember what, dear?” she asked.

“The twelve Imams’ names our teacher told us to learn by heart for the next session,” I said.

 “Khak-bar-sar-ha![‘May dirt hit their heads!’],” she replied, using the harshest phrase she would utter only when she was extremely angry. “The things they make poor kids do at this age!”

She began to help me: “You know the first three Imams, right?”

I answered affirmatively.

“The fourth Imam, was the one who was ill, you remember that too, right?”

I said yes. And so she went on and on.

I remember when she reached Imam Ba’gher [the fifth Imam] she said: “Try to remember him with ‘gher.’ Don’t they do gherin dancing?” She was making a pun: “Ba” – meaning “with” – plus “gher,” an exotic belly dancing move.

I laughed at her joke and quickly learned. Come to think of it, probably the poor woman had herself learned the names the same way!

Another day I told her about the sandbags they had arranged in front of the local mosque and how there were armed soldiers surrounding them.

 “Khak-bar-sar-ha, they don’t even respect God’s house!” was her reaction.

When I turned nine, the teachers at school told us that this was year we would reach bolough, orreligious maturity. “We are getting ready for your Duty Ceremony,” they announced, describing a kind of Muslim coming of age ritual. “Tell your parents to get you angle-white dresses.”

 “What’s bolough?” I asked Maman as soon as I got home.

“But you are too young to know these things!” she exclaimed.

She then promised to talk to the principal herself.

Years later, when I was quite a grown up, she revealed that she had given the school principal a piece of her mind: “BOLOUGH WAS SOMETHING IN THE DAYS OF YORE WHEN THEY WOULD MAKE A THIRTEEN-YEAR-OLD CHILD PUT ON A WEDDING GOWN. THERE HAS TO BE A LAW THESE DAYS. DON’T YOU FILL MY GRANDDAUGHTER’S HEAD WITH SUCH BULL!”

I later learned the poor woman herself had been married when she was only 13.

While Maman was seemingly a mere illiterate, I learned so much from her. She knew that civil laws and Shari’a [Islamic religious law] are two separate entities. In fact there are many people like her who intuitively understand that religion should be separated from the everyday laws and politics. Everybody’s faith and relation to God should be a matter of heart, not the world outside.

After high school, my father – who had married a Japanese lady in India and was now living in Japan – offered me the opportunity to attend college in Tokyo. I accepted.

In Christmas 2007, my father invited my grandparents to visit Tokyo. I was so happy. It was the first time Grandpa had been out of the country, though Maman had gone to India with me to visit father several times and also made the pilgrimage to Mecca and the shrine of Sayyida Zainab in Damascus. But this trip was the first time they were experiencing the free world.

My grandparents were astonished. Everything seemed surreal to them. My grandfather who had been a religious man all his life was not too shocked to forgo his religious duties. But he could not find the Kiblah in Tokyo [the direction of the Kaaba in Mecca, to which Muslims turn at prayer]. Finally my father found it and they did their prayers together.

Using the escalators and the subway constituted the main problems Maman faced in Tokyo.

After visiting a lot of tourist attractions in Japan and meeting many Japanese, one day Maman asked me: “Dear, are all these people Muslims?”

I smiled and replied: “Maman, nintey percent of them don’t have any particular faith.”

“You mean they are infidels?”

“Not in the sense you mean.”

“For so many years, we’d been hoping for a paradise in the next world, while these, as you say, infidels, have created their own heaven on earth,” she mused.

In the end, I hope – and this is my dream deferred – that in our small world, which is rightly called a global village nowadays, all humans, religious and non-believers, live peacefully, respectful of each other’s way of thinking while not intruding on each other’s privacies, and let our grandfathers, grandmothers, and everybody else live happily with the faiths they nourish in their hearts.

A student confronts a teacher who doles out grades based on bribes rather than merit. The ensuing campaign to expose corruption and mobilize fearful fellow students becomes an eye-opening experience, which the author connects to the larger societal struggle to protect civil rights. The classroom analogy raises questions about whether rights are inherent to all people or granted only at the whim of rulers. The author’s decision to take action offers one inspiring answer.

Farea Al-muslimi, Yemen, Age 18
Strength in Numbers

Individual rights give people free choice and the power to be active agents in their own lives rather than helpless puppets, who must accept whatever meager freedoms are granted them by those who have confiscated their fundamental rights.

In my high school, there was a teacher who manipulated students by not thoroughly explaining the lesson topics. Thus, students failed to get high marks and were forced to bribe the teacher for good grades.

One day, I decided to defend my rights as a student. I protested to the school administration about how the teacher treated us. As a result, I failed the monthly exam, even though I had studied as thoroughly as possible, even seeking the help of other teachers to understand the subject better.

I had attempted to do well on the exam to prove to my classmates that my complaint against the teacher would not affect my grades. Yet the poor grade I received caused other students to fear similar consequences, so they chose to remain silent. What happened later made them even more scared to defend their rights: the monthly exam results revealed that I had only failed in this particular course and none other.

I submitted a petition to the school administration – but the teacher got there first. He accused me of cheating on the exam, claiming he had thus been forced to rescind my grade. The administration always sides with the teacher in such cases, so they believed him and disregarded my petition.

I realized that fighting for my rights carried a price to pay, and pay I did! But I had to decide whether to stop or to pursue my goal to the end, especially since my fellow students remained fearful and my teacher only grew tougher. It was a difficult lesson, though the educational process was hardly complete.

Individual struggle requires a large group of supporters. I attracted several teachers and students to show solidarity with me after I explained my case to them. This solidarity caused the school administration to change its stance, and I succeeded in restoring my full marks.

Encouraged, I began to follow the news, as I now considered myself a defender of freedoms and rights, particularly freedom of expression. I discovered that journalists who defend the rights of others exert huge effort to defend their own right to free expression. Two journalists were recently kidnapped and physically assaulted because they published articles about the president and high officials of the state. I followed the developments of the case based on my belief that rights are one integral whole that should not be violated.

We students, I realized, are a miniature snapshot of the larger society. We should be its most active part and react to repression vigorously to ensure that we – and not the oppressors – will ultimately succeed. Part of this desired victory had been achieved already: By restoring my grades in the face of intimidation, I gained the respect of my teachers and fellow students. This was a good result so far.

So I created the following analogy:
Me = Kidnapped journalist
Teacher = Kidnapper
School Administration = Regime
My stolen exam grade = Confiscated newspaper
My protest against the teacher = Newspaper criticism of the regime

I now understood why journalists have to fight for their own rights before defending the rights of other people. With reference to the aforementioned formula, I should add that the Press Syndicate parallels the “Student Advocacy Group” I subsequently formed at school. Establishing and maintaining the group required a lot of outreach work.

The students living in my neighborhood were courageous in their efforts to fulfill the objectives of our Student Advocacy Group. Members of the group working inside the school faced a lot of pressure. They were targeted by hostile opponents and, in some cases, membership had to be revoked when it was revealed they received preferential treatment in exams and other school activities.

We also decided to make our neighborhood the home base for our outreach work and sought the help of our parents. In this way, our parents paralleled a civil society organization.

The strength of our coalition gave us courage. In fact, the Student Advocacy Group and the neighborhood coalition turned into a deterrent force. The mere existence of our coalition made teachers and the school administration think twice before violating student rights. Many students still did not join us out of fear. But while no struggle is perfect, the experience we gained will help overcome setbacks in the long run.

The threat of terrorism is typically considered a problem for Western societies, but this haunting essay reminds us that Middle Eastern societies - including ones that are predominantly Muslim - have been the primary victims of terror. The author recounts how the Algerian Civil War turned into a civil rights nightmare, even impacting elementary school students. “My body trembles as I write this,” she writes, revealing a deep lingering trauma.

M. M., Algeria, Age 23
Terrorism and Islamic Jurisprudence

I have decided to discuss a hot issue that arouses controversy in both public and private arenas and remains a pressing topic at international conferences. I do so because of its negative influence on civil rights and free thought. I write about the phenomenon of terrorism, as I live in a country that has suffered from this fatal disease.

Terrorists try to distort the image of our nation. The Algerian Civil War and the attacks on September 11th sparked an interest in terrorism that many political analysts believe was not present before. In Algeria, we have an expression: "Ask the patient, not the doctor." I am a patient. I was one of those who lived through experiences more terrifying for me than any Hitchcock movie. My body trembles as I write this.

It is hard to believe a country that had seen such victories and heroes in securing independence from France could suffer such a brutal sectarian war less than a decade later. The Algerian security forces killed a huge number of civilians, innocents not involved in any political or military activity. The daily average seemed to be fifteen individual executions or collective massacres in towns and villages. We recently learned that the number two leader of the dissolved Islamic Salvation Front (ISF) was severely beaten by the families of terrorism victims. The “national reconciliation” heralded by Algeria’s president is clearly not flourishing in our country as claimed.

I remember one Saturday morning (the beginning of the week in Algeria) when I was a student in primary school. As we prepared to sing the national anthem, we discovered posters hanging on the school walls signed by the ISF. They called upon schools to remove French, the second most popular language in the country, from the curriculum and to require female pupils to wear the hijab. They declared that if this decision were not implemented within a week, we would all be dead. Islam, it seemed, was being spread by sword.

At that time, I lived in a neighborhood called "Al-Mintaqa Al-Hamra'a" (The Red Zone). I had a teacher who was a strong, fair woman. She was brought up in a moderate religious context by the preachers of the Muslim Scholars Association. A group of my classmates and I naively asked her about the meaning of these publications. She said it was a decision that we would be forced to implement. The ISF wanted to Arabize the new generation and remove the residual impact of the Catholic priests who remained in Algeria after independence.

The headmistress of our school refused to implement the ISF orders. She was tortured and eventually executed.

At the same time, our school suffered a terrorist attack and tens of innocent children were killed. I moved from my house to the capital city to continue my life and study in a safer environment. Yet the images of killings and torture still haunt me today, over ten years later. My neighborhood witnessed many horrible historical crimes.

Those who lived under the French occupation agree that the destructive nonbeliever was more merciful than the citizens of their own country. Who could imagine that they dared to fry children alive? I am reminded of the Quranic story of “AsHab Al-Okhdod,” a group of people burned alive in hot oil simply because they believed in God. Who can forget the military attack on a neighborhood alleged to be a terrorist neighborhood? Twelve civilians were slaughtered with knifes like sheep under the justification of jihad. In this worldview, jihad is the killing of Muslim brothers, frightening them, and distorting the identity of a nation. It is a nonsensical jihad, not accepted by religion or ethics.

The horrible actions of terrorists did not stop there. They used to kidnap the children of wealthy people and foreign families to demand ransom payments; otherwise, the children would be executed. In some cases these children were used to manipulate parents to achieve political or economic goals. One example is the kidnapping of tourists in the desert. Terrorist groups arrested and killed people arbitrarily. They would drive their cars into neighborhoods and collect money from traders and wealthy citizens.

I remember one story that happened in my neighborhood. There was a wealthy and reputable family that the terrorists found attractive. They forced this family to host them for lunch and give them money. This extortion continued for more than ten years. One day they broke into the house, slaughtered every member of the family, and cut off their heads. How is that for gratitude?

Due to the increasing violence in some areas, citizens were trained to use weapons to defend themselves. Some citizens owned weapons. The leaders of villages and tribes used to take turns serving as night guards. It was not unusual at that time to find a father who kept a weapon in his house to defend his family and religion.

The strong people of Algeria who had seen hell under the French occupation would never surrender to sectarian terrorist groups claiming the mantle of Islam. Yet Islam is not affiliated with them.

There are now intensive political and media discussions about ending sectarian sedition and establishing reconciliation. Meanwhile, the hope of living in a free country that ensures individual and religious freedom is a deferred dream, still awaiting those who will make it true. Some repentant terrorists claim they aspired to a noble goal: building an Islamic State. Yet their tool was not legitimate. Islam insists on the legitimacy of the means as much as it cares for the legitimacy of the end.

The Baha’i religion developed in Iran, but has long faced institutionalized legal rejection because its followers recognize a prophet who comes after Muhammad. The human impact, as this essay reveals, is that young Iranians from Baha’i families are denied entrance to universities despite stellar academic accomplishments. The author’s combination of determination, pain, and undying hope suggests the loss is not simply her own, but rather the whole of Iranian society, which cannot fully benefit from her talents.

T. T., Iran, Age 21
Where There is Faith, Hope Never Dies

It all began when Mahbubeh’s mother told us about her daughter’s expulsion from the Nemooneh Dolati School, an elite public school in Iran. That same day, my desire to enter Nemooneh Dolati faded into bitter despair. I felt I had lost all my motivation to continue my studies.  It was my first encounter with the discrimination surrounding me.

Mahbubeh’s expulsion was not an ordinary occurrence. They had explicitly stated their reason for not admitting her: She was a Baha’i.

When I was only ten years old, I recognized that our religion was the reason for other things as well, including my father’s being fired from school and banned from teaching. He was one of the top students at Shahid Beheshti, the prestigious Tehran university.

I remember the day my nine-year-old sister’s teacher dismissed her from the class, simply because she was a Baha’i. Shortly thereafter my sister won first place in a province-wide science Olympiad. Only then did a different teacher agree to accept her as one of her students.

I was too little to ask myself why my father could not teach, why my sister got expelled, and why my mother could not be a schoolteacher despite having the required degrees. I so wanted to become a teacher myself - a nice teacher: someone who would not discriminate against any of her students.

I put the idea of studying at the prestigious Nemooneh Dolati school out of my head. I no longer cared to step up my efforts to pass its entrance exam. I would tell myself: “That’s just the way it is. We are Baha’is. Baha’is are not supposed to attend Nemooneh Dolati or any elite schools.” Because I never asked “why?” I had peace of mind.

I entered middle school. Despite all the limitations I was optimistic. Although I could not be admitted to Nemooneh Dolati, I hoped that someday I could go to college and continue my studies like everybody else.

Zhinus was my inspiration. She was seven years older than me, and everybody admired the way she stuck to her lessons. Even though Baha’is were banned from studying at college, she remained hopeful. Unbelievably, that year she received her exam entrance card, one of very few Baha’is to receive such cards. She was happy as a clam. She carried on her daily studies more vigorously than ever. She was optimistic and so were we - until the exam day when the security guard shredded her card right before her eyes, simply because she was a Baha’i. All those nights she had spent poring over her books and all those trials and tribulations were nullified in an instant.

Yet Zhinus would not surrender that easily. She took up her studies again, hoping for the next year. She remained upbeat until the day the exam cards were distributed. This time they did not even bother to issue her one. There was not even a card to be torn up before her eyes. Thus Zhinus, who had studied so hard, was deprived of her right to learn.

Still, I tried not to think about the defeat. I had to study. I hoped I could make my father – now dead for eleven years – proud. A father I did not remember at all, despite knowing he was a kind man whose dreams had been destroyed. I was sure that in seven years, when it would be my turn to participate in the exam, the situation would improve. I hoped I could go to college and compensate for all my relatives who had been denied entrance.

I will never forget the day I saw my name on a banner announcing the winners of an Arabic Olympiad: I had won first place. Of course. there is also the bitter memory of realizing that those below me in the Olympiad went to the next round, held nationwide, while I was left out.

Being a Baha’i justified this rejection and actually alleviated my sense of indignation.

Days passed quickly. I entered high school. My mother enrolled my sister and me in the city’s best school so that her aspirations for us might come true. The school’s tuition fees were far more than she could afford, but she wanted the best for her children and longed to see the hardships she had endured for seventeen years pay off through our success.

We went through hard times. I could feel my mother burdened by our school’s heavy fees. At the end of every school year, my sister and I would go to the principal and ask to withdraw from school, but the principal would not allow it. She talked about a hopeful future, helping us to imagine the day when she would hoist up our names on a flag with all the names of the students going on to college. She too believed in us.

I had opted to focus on science studies in high school because I always wanted to be a dentist. My sister had taken the exam before me, and her ranking was quite admirable. That was the first time in 27 years that Baha’i students could see their test results. However, in the personal information section, “Islam” was printed in as her religion.

When it was obvious that my sister could not enter college, I became obsessed with my childhood “whys.” Again, the answer was invariably “because I am a Baha’i.”

Thus my sister met Zhinus’s fate. Now it was my turn. I couldn’t bear to see my feelings get trifled with so easily. 28 years had passed since the revolution and for 28 years Baha’i students were banned from moving on to higher education.

My friends’ enthusiasm in school reminded me of my goals. They studied day and night. One had to study medicine due to pressure from her family. Another’s family forced her to take test prep classes. There were even those who did not want to take the exam at all. Looking at them I would sigh, “Wish I could...”

Attending college remains my biggest dream. My greatest aspiration is to make up for everything my mother sacrificed so that we might study. I want to make my father proud.

Yet lately I have felt my traditional explanations for “why” do not make sense any more. I now ask: Why shouldn’t a Baha’i study? Isn’t the right to education a basic human right? What have people of my faith done to deserve such treatment? Why should a faith that regards all humans as equals – and calls for everyone to love one another – deserve this?

I still hope that someday my dream of ending the discrimination, fanaticism, and bigotry will come true, because I see that where there is faith, hope will never die.

HONORABLE MENTIONS

When the author openly criticizes systemic abuse of young prisoners in Yemen, he is left with no path to remedy the problem. He dreams of a Yemen where he can be critical without being denounced as a pariah.

Amr Muhammad al-Nud, Yemen, Age 23
Assassination of Dreams

[abridged translation]

Arab "democracies" are typically established to gain the approval of international allies, who provide financial support and access the global economy.  Leaders dangle democracy before citizens who remain submerged in the deep waters of oppression and unfulfilled potential with few resources for establishing true democracy. Authorities instead exploit the state’s resources by abusing the use of security forces to extend their power. They suppress information and weaken the education system by adopting traditional methods that promote intellectual, emotional, and psychological oppression while praising patriarchal authority.

Our dreams will never come true as long as politicians assassinate dreams of democracy, freedom, and equality. Whoever contradicts the prevailing beliefs or adopts different ideas, perspectives, or ideologies is automatically an enemy who must be intellectually or, in some cases, physically eliminated.

I have faced different forms of intellectual oppression and obstacles that have tried to erase me from the intellectual map of my society. By adopting different perspectives, I crossed a line and unwittingly became a security threat.

One incident came when I conducted an analysis for school on "The Role of a Social Rehabilitation Organization for Yemeni Minor Prisoners." The report included criticism of the organization's extremist religious practices and the physical and psychological violence inflicted on minors who failed to do certain religious duties. When I described my findings to my university professor, a reputable leader in the ruling party, he rejected my criticism of the organization’s religious extremism. Instead of evaluating my report objectively, he ignored me and accused me of being foolish.

Still I insisted on presenting the article and explaining my analysis, including a section about sexual relationships. The statistics indicated that 50% of minor prisoners are victims of sexual harassment within the organization. The shocking results were in complete contradiction to the restrictive religious practices of the organization and proved its ineffectiveness and ignorance.

I wanted to file a complaint against this group based on the results of my research. However, my professor refused to approve my complaint and defended the association because it was run by the government. Hence, I found great difficulty in submitting my report to state institutions. I asked the professor, who is also the university head, to approve my complaint against the director and staff of this association who prevented me from continuing my research when they discovered my survey included questions about sexual abuse and extremist religious practices. The director of the program had also verbally attacked me, and one of his religious teachers called me morally corrupt.

My professor argued this was no insult and that the organization simply wanted to protect the minors. I tried to explain my criticisms by using scientific analyses of psychological and social research methods, but this was not enough to convince this man who holds a PhD in sociology. I sarcastically asked him one last favor: to spend a day in the care of the organization to experience what the prisoners do. He exploded like a bomb of anger in my face. I froze, absorbing a barrage of insults fired from every angle as if I had called for the social acceptance of homosexuality [a huge taboo in Yemeni society].

Traditional culture is the main obstacle in the way of creativity, criticism, and freedom of expression. Many politicians and intellectual members of the ruling regime tirelessly protect it, abusing religion to guarantee longevity through systematic religious oppression of those who threaten its existence.

Once at school I criticized the religious sermon at Friday prayers. I said that the destructive religious rhetoric in our society is detached from reality, leading us through a vicious circle of praising the past and rejecting the present. In addition, I criticized the picture we draw of paradise as a tourist resort where the deceased go to eat, drink, and have sex. In my view, paradise is much grander than this materialistic representation. I criticized the interpretation that women are the spit of Satan, an immoral entity that should be always hidden behind walls, and a sexual machine to satisfy men's lust.

A group of 90 male and female undergraduate students, angry about my criticism, decided to award me a "medal of blasphemy and atheism" Another student threatened to beat me because he assumed I was a nonbeliever -- and thus he had the right to kill me.  

I want only to breathe freedom and practice the democracy our political regime claims to be adopting. I did not realize that in paying the price of freedom, I would be called an atheist.  Some of my professors, especially ruling party affiliates, have graded me unfairly. Their political prejudice has caused them to punish me for writing political articles against the failed policies of the state and adopting a different point of view. 

Here, in this traditional society, the educated and intellectual groups have always been the main perpetrators that assassinate the dreams of change, modernization, and freedom. But dreams are never-ending, so why do they keep talking about democracy?

If I want to satisfy those around me, I must follow in their footsteps and become one of them. A close family friend is one of the most influential leaders in the ruling party. He promised my father that he would find a good job for me after graduation. This promise was a relief to my father and me because at least I would avoid unemployment. Yet I was shocked when this man refused to fulfill his promise. He told my father: "As long as your son criticizes the president and the government he will not respect anyone. Let him taste the bitter flavor of freedom. He will never realize his dreams."

Although I do not need this man, I was disturbed by his policy of giving jobs only to affiliates and supporters. Dissidents and independents are condemned to hell. They must pay a high price for seizing freedom that is not granted to them. That price is a denial of basic rights, repression, imprisonment, poverty, and the assassination of dreams. It is a slow, painful death.

A Cairo subway conversation between a son and his father reveals a gnawing sense of disenfranchisement. Despite being disheartened by corruption, the author calls for non-violent activism to promote reform.

Abd al-Rahman Khalil, Egypt, Age 20
Inside the Egyptian Voting Booth

[abridged translation]

On my way to university, I noticed a large number of campaign posters for the Egyptian parliamentary elections in the crowded metro car on my two hour commute. Everything seemed normal and a quiet calm surrounded the passengers, but at the next station, an old man and his young son entered the train and sat beside me. They started talking about the parliamentary elections and the best candidate for their electoral province.

“It seems to me that the Muslim Brotherhood candidate is the best,” the son began. “During the past four years, we never even felt the presence of the National Democratic Party representative. He didn't help my brother get accepted the Police Academy after they refused him admission - just because you were a member of the Muslim Brotherhood years ago in college.”

This revealed that the father had once been a member of the Muslim Brotherhood, a group banned in Egypt. I decided not to join the discussion,  as I was unsure of the consequences.

“Don't assume that a Muslim Brotherhood representative would have intervened on behalf of your brother,” the father replied. “Security comes before politics in our country. No member of parliament or governor will change that. Otherwise, he will be accused of opposing the regime and subsequently lose his seat.”

“So you won't give your vote to the Muslim Brotherhood?”

“Voting is a waste of time, and not only because the winner is chosen ahead of time.”

“We encourage the system to suppress us and discriminate against us on the basis of our religious and political affiliations when we stay silent about what is committed against us and do not call for our rights. The Prophet Mohamed – PBUH – said 'No right is lost if you demand it,' so I will go to the voting booth and try to change our reality.”

The son's reply to his father gave me pause, particularly because the father had been a member of the banned Muslim Brotherhood, participated in its activities, and shared its ambitions against the ruling regime. The way the son gave advice to his father was like someone teaching the captain of the ship how to navigate the sea. 

The father smiled calmly and stayed silent, ending the discussion with his son when he noticed many sets of eyes staring at them. 

In the following days before the election, I struggled to decide whether to participate in the elections to exercise my democratic rights as a citizen, or to abstain in protest against fraudulent elections. All the while, the son's words and the father's smile were engraved in my mind, making me even more unsure.

The morning of November 9th, 2005…voting day:

I did not attend university that day, deciding instead to head toward the voting station near my house to watch the voting process. I decided to leave my decision about whether or not to participate until after I'd seen the election process. 

Once the polling stations opened and people gathered in front of the voting station, negotiations began on the price of each vote. And no wonder! We are living here, where humans themselves are for sale, so why wouldn't their votes be for sale as well?

"Only two hundred pounds?! I heard they vote for 500 pounds in Nasr City. I won't sell for less than the price of the market," a citizen – sorry, I meant a trader – said while negotiating the votes broker. 

“500 is too high. Prices in poor neighborhoods are not the same as those in wealthy districts.”

The trader retorted, “That makes no sense! Here or there the result would be the same - a seat in parliament. The candidate who pays 500 in Nasr City will not win two seats. “

The broker replied, “Well then, we're agreed! How many votes do you have?”

Of course I did not participate. Each candidate and voter in these elections has only his own interests and goals in mind. It goes without saying that these goals do not include any of the words that are so often used like “public interest” or “volunteer work.”

Going safely to voting stations and ensuring the real influence of voters in selecting their candidate according to his own electoral agenda is my dream deferred. How can I make it true? How can I get my right to vote that democracy is known for and use it as a legal entry to gain my other rights?  Rights are not granted, but rather are taken by force. Thus, we have to move assertively to claim our suspended rights.

In response, soft force calls for awareness among the coming generations about their rights and duties according to principles and ethics. This type of change is not weak as it seems, and actually much stronger than the arbitrary force. The clearest example of soft change is the massive change created by Gandhi in India. He did not face soldiers with weapons and did not respond to killers with murder. Instead, he faced his torturers with the simple truth that the occupier is in the wrong. British occupation of India and French occupation of Algeria are always portrayed as acts of good will, distorting the facts.  The truth of their tyranny and lies has been revealed because tyranny can never live long. 

This change, although slower and harder, has proven positive results and longer influence. The required change under the current suppressive regime must be based on education, culture, awareness, and a belief in rights and not in blind force. The power we face will create more tyranny if we used arbitrary force in the context of ignorance. Hence, such force must exist in a context of awareness and culture.

Painting a picture of a divided Sudan, the author denounces apathy and calls for an end to ingrained racism.

Sameer Al-Zein, Sudan, Age 24
Institutional Suppression: The Example of Sudan

[abridged translation]

As I write this, the ruling regime in Khartoum is preparing to celebrate the twentieth anniversary of the coup d'etat led by the National Islamic Front, which has ideological connections to the Muslim Brotherhood. Throughout this period, the regime imposed its unilateral vision, inflicting on us the highest degree of totalitarianism. Because of this, the civil war in southern Sudan was prolonged, and other wars broke out in east and west Sudan. The internal opposition increased and external parties imposed sanctions. Ruling authorities have used all means to guarantee their longevity, persecuting citizens in areas that dared to take up arms against their oppressors.

As a citizen of one of the areas that dared to fight back, I suffered different forms of suppression under a regime that does not understand the ethnic, cultural, and linguistic diversity among the citizens of Sudan.  

When I was entering school for the first time, local authorities closed our school, claiming that it was used to promote Christianity and proselytizing to Muslim students. The school was established by Priest Daniel Comboni and received funds from the Catholic Church. It was, however, never used to promote Christianity, according to the Muslim students who attended. During my study there, no one spoke to me about Christianity. On the contrary, there was a teacher of Islamic Education who taught us the basics of Islam. The school was built to help us, the children of poor, displaced people who left their hometowns because of war.

We were devastated when we were forced to transfer to other schools after the government closure. Yet, we could not protest against the fascist regime that led a coup against democracy. They claim to have a project to promote Islam all over the world. Although their claims are based on Islamic sources, they are racist to the core. The fact is that our school was composed of displaced citizens of a persecuted race, so the authorities should be focusing on racial assimilation. 

When I finished high school, I wanted to join the military academy to graduate as an engineer with a first lieutenant rank. The main reason I wanted this was my fear of the high costs of studying at a private university. Military academies are financed by state so I would have a guaranteed job after graduation. I submitted my application, and passed the health and security screenings. I was among the best applicants, but the director of admissions had a different opinion. He disqualified all applicants who had African origins and I was one of them. It is obvious that racial discrimination is an official policy of the state in order to keep all citizens of African origins out of the military, particularly those who did not join the pro-regime organizations in high school.  

Due to the actions of those in power, there is a deep fissure in the Sudanese community, and deep-set racism is now a part of our culture. People decide whether or not to interact with you based on your tribe affiliation. The tribe has become the main social structure of Sudan and religion has been abused as a tool to destroy our nation.

I am sure that every young Sudanese person reading my article is looking for job. Either that, or they are busy with heavy loads of work for a very low salary. In all cases, they are looking for an immigration opportunity.  

The job of young Sudanese people is to search for job openings and legitimate or illegitimate immigration opportunities to any country, including Israel. Many times, the guards at the Egyptian border with Israel have arrested or killed African migrants who attempt to sneak into Israel. Most of these migrants are Sudanese. This caused the leader of Liberation Movement, Alsayed Abdel Wahed Mohamed Nour to open an office for the movement in Tel Aviv to protect Sudanese refugees there.

Anyone born in northern Sudan sees the southern Sudanese as the "other," so there is no harmony among the elements of our society. The best evidence of this is what is happening now in Darfur in the west of Sudan. The social structure has been destroyed and cannot stand on its own two feet. A conflict between villagers and shepherds turned into a conflict between Arabs and Africans, leading to hugely negative consequences for Sudanese society as a whole.

Sexual suppression is linked to social repression. Society is not accepting of mixed-gender gatherings, even at places like universities. For this we can thank Islamic extremism, which has nothing to do with true Muslim values of tolerance. Sudan is always biased in favor of males over females. This inequality has been slightly alleviated due to pressure from women's rights NGOs, but some universities are still being established for girls only to separate them from male colleagues. It is said that mixing the sexes will spread corruption and immorality.

Talking about sex is prohibited and only occurs in secret. It cannot be discussed in the media, which would benefit the society as a whole. The government ordered the administration of Khartoum University to ban the famous novel "The Season of Immigration to North" by the world-renowned novelist Al-Tayeb Saleh from the curriculum of literature school because this celebrated literary work included explicit sexual material.  

Implicit acceptance of our situation gradually turns into actual acceptance and the citizens start reinforcing the oppressive system. This leads to a weakening of opposition forces and a general social consensus about the modern world. This overarching social consensus increases the legitimacy of defending suppressive policies.

Anonymous no more, the author uses this essay contest to come out as a dissident and a civil rights activist. Though she submitted anonymous essays in the past, Mariam has overcome her fear and owned her identity in this striking piece.

Mariam Bazeed, Egypt, Age 24
On Silence

This will be my fourth submission to this essay contest in as many years.  There is a world of different between my first submission in 2005 and my subsequent ones; I wrote back then of a private theft of the ability to express oneself, of living in a culture (like any culture) that is badly equipped to deal with views too far from the mainstream.

Since then, my myopic view has expanded to include much more than personal restrictions – I have written about the plight of homosexuals in Egypt today, about the public inability to speak in the many dictatorships that constitute the Middle East, about religious freedom and the rights that are robbed from us as citizens of ostensibly free states, which promise us much in their constitutions and deliver very little of that promised. I have also since expanded the venues of my writing, seeing telling examples of the power of everyday bloggers and others to reach a wide audience, and to disseminate a truth ignored, unknown, or disproportionately viewed as minor by many outside of the Middle East.   These same bloggers have the power to reach the even more important audience within the Middle East itself – likeminded others who care to see that legions of dissatisfied others exist, that they are not alone, and that they have support in their desire to change the status quo.

This expansion in my sphere of concern (for lack of a better word) was organic, natural – how could I begin to care and write about issues of personal freedom within my own culture, without realizing how those ultimately resulted from much larger institutional infarctions generalized to entire generations of stifled populations?  How could I notice my unwillingness to take credit for my writings, being published instead as “anonymous” or as a pair of cowardly initials that could be anyone at all, without thinking of those braver than I suffering the consequences of their boldness?  I now write as myself.

I do not think that these changes within me came about coincidentally while I was writing, a concurrence of chance and nothing else.  Rather, I believe they came about because of it, because I was writing, and had ceased to be silent.  Before 2005, this was an issue I’d never addressed outside of the safe space of my own mind.

I realize now that it is this very process of snowballing that dictators are so fearful of, and therefore so ruthless towards, and so meticulous about squashing.  This propensity to speak, to write, to unload the contents of our own minds is an addiction – it grows and becomes bottomless, parched in its search for truth, and more hungry the more we cater to it.  It consumes us, so that our prior silences of apathy or impotence seem like unimaginable torture, like a crime so vile against our authenticity that we pale in considering our misdeeds, like murderers newly endowed with a conscience - how miserably we’ve failed ourselves.  Our dictators know that individual silence is predicated solely upon the silence of all, and that to breach one silence is therefore to breach them all, to breach silence as a principle and unfortunate reality of our daily lives – that a cacophony of power is what is to be feared.  These dictators know that it is not our propensity for violence that is to be feared, but our non-silence, our non-apathy, our non-reactivity.

My dream, no longer deferred, is for a few in the Middle East to realize that all silence is but a prelude to speech.  I hear our voices now.

Please consider this, amongst other things, to be a formal request to have my name added to all previous submissions.

Arabic

Farea Al-muslimi, Yemen, Age 18
قوة الحق بأتساع المدافعين

ان حصول الفرد على حقه يمنحه القوة في الحياة ,والحرية في اختيار بدائلها ليكون مشاركا في صنع مجرياتها وليس مجرد متلق مسلوب الارادة يقبل بما يمنحه الاخرون ممن صادروا حقوقه المشروعة .
كان هناك معلم في المرحلة الثانوية يقوم بابتزاز طلابه بتعمده عدم توضيح معلومات مادته ما يؤدي إلى عجز الطلاب في الحصول على علامات مرتفعة في هذه المادة ,وبالتالي يضطر الطلاب إلى دفع مبالغ مالية للمعلم مقابل منحهم علامات مرتفعة بغض النظر عن ادائهم في الامتحانات.
ذات يوم قمت بما أراه واجبا للدفاع عن حقي باعتباري أحد طلاب هذا المعلم واعلنت احتجاجي على طريقة تعامله معنا كطلاب .
بكل بساطة كان ذلك دافعا إلى رسوبي في هذه المادة في الامتحانات الشهرية ,مع حرصي المسبق على أن يكون أدائي في الامتحان جيدا بالجهد المضاعف والاستعانة بمعلمين اخرين لفهم المادة بشكل أفضل ,لأثبت لزملائي أن احتجاجي على المعلم مع اجتهادي في التعلم كفيل بحصولي على علامتي المستحقة دون خوف من رد فعل المعلم المتوقع بالخصم من علاماتي وهو مصدر الخوف الاساسي للطلاب وسر صمتهم,لكن ما حدث بعد ذلك كان أكثر اخافة لهم ودافعا لمواصلة الصمت عن حقوقهم المسلوبة ,لقد أظهرت نتيجة الامتحان الشهري رسوبي في هذه المادة دون سواها .
قدمت عريضة شكوى لادارة المدرسة نتيجة ذلك ,لكن المعلم كان قد سبقني واتهمني بالغش في الامتحانات مادفعه لترسيبي ,ولأن الادارة تميل دائما إلى جانب المعلم في هذه الأحوال دون أخذ رأي أوموقف الطالب في الاعتبار فقد اعتمدت كلام المعلم.
أدركت أن لأي موقف مناهض لاستلاب الحقوق ثمن يجب دفعه وقد فعلت ,لكن هل أقف عند هذا ولم احقق هدفي ,ولا زال الطلاب في خوفهم والمعلم أكثر استقواء علينا جميعا .
لقد كان درسا قاسيا ومفيدا,لكن لم ينته بعد.
العمل الفردي بحاجة إلى جبهة دفاع وتضامن في اطار أوسع,وبالفعل وقف الكثير من المعلمين والطلاب معي بعد توضيح قضيتي أمامهم ,هذا التضامن دفع الادارة إلى التراجع عن موقفها وحصلت على علاماتي المستحقة كاملة .
هي بداية مشجعة إذا...
اندفعت تلقائيا لمتابعة الصحافة باعتباري مدافعا مستجدا عن الحقوق والحريات وأساسها جميعا حرية الرأي والتعبير,فوجدت الصحفيين الذين يدافعون عن حقوق الاخرين يبذلون جهودا كبيرة للدفاع عن قضاياهم أولا فقد تعرض اثنان منهم للاختطاف والاخفاء والاعتداء الجسدي على خلفية قضايا نشر تناولت رئيس الدولة وبعض كبار شخصياتها ,قلت ان ذلك من عمل أفراد متضررين ولا يمكن أن يكون عمل الحكومة طالما والفاعل لا يزال مجهولا.
 تحولت المعادلة في عقلي كالتالي:
أنا=  صحفي مخطوف
المعلم= خاطف
الادارة = حكومة
علاماتي المسلوبة =صحيفة مصادرة
احتجاجي على المعلم = انتقاد الصحافة للحكومة
وبالتالي تابعت تطورات قضية الصحفيين وتبعت خطواتها باعتبار الحقوق وحدة متكاملة ومتصلة وان تغيرت أشكال انتهاكها.
نحن الطلاب صورة مصغرة للمجتمع ويجب أن نكون الجزء الفاعل فيه ,وأن يكون ردنا على القمع ايجابيا وخطوة في طريق مواجهته ,وأن ننتصر نحن وليس هو.
جزء من الأمر تحقق تلقائيا فقد أصبحت أحظى احترام أكبر في أوساط المعلمين والطلاب وهذه نتيجة جيدة حتى الآن.
تواصلا مع المعادلة أعلاه أصبحت نقابة الصحفيين اتحاد طلابي داخل المدرسة ,لكن مجرد وجود الاتحاد الطلابي أصبح بحاجة للدفاع عنه ,فقلت ذلك سر دفاع الصحفيين عن قضاياهم قبل قضايا الآخرين .
كان الطلاب الساكنون معي في نفس الحي أكثر شجاعة للعمل من أجل الاتحاد وأهدافه ,لكن العمل من داخل المدرسة واجه ضغوطا كثيرة وتم استهداف اعضائه واخراج بعضهم فعلا من عضويته بمنحهم بعض الامتيازات في العلامات والانشطة التي لم نكن قادرين على منحهم اياها ,فقررنا أن يكون الحي نواة عملنا وأن نستعين بأولياء الأمور ليكونوا بمثابة منظمات المجتمع المدني في اطار المعادلة السابقة .
لقد دفعنا الخوف إلى الشجاعة وصرنا أكثر قوة مع تحالفنا.
في الحقيقة تحول الاتحاد وتحالف الحي إلى قوة ردع لم نضطر لاستخدامها ضد الآخرين لأن مجرد وجودهما والفشل في القضاء عليهما جعل المعلمون والادارة يترددون كثيرا قبل القيام بأي تصرف ضد الطلاب وإن بقي الكثير من الطلاب لم ينظموا إلينا بدافع خوف مترسب في عقولهم ,لكن لكل تجربة قصور وتراكم الخبرة مع مرور الزمن كفيلان بمعالجة أوجه القصور في التجربة.
بعد تخرجنا من المدرسة ظل الاتحاد قائما مع ترسخ ثقافة الدفاع عن الحق بشكل أكبر واستمر عمل الطلاب المتخرجون في اطارات جديدة .
المعلم المستبد كان أساس كل هذا العمل وقد تم نقله الى مدرسة أخرى ,ونمت بذرة الديمقراطية بسرعة ولم يعد بامكان أحد اقتلاعها.

M. M., Algeria, Age 23
الارهاب و فقه الجهاد

و أنا أقرأ موضوع مقالكم, ارتأيت أن أتطرق الى موضوع شائك أصبح حديث العام و الخاص, و كان و لا يزال من أخطر المواضيع التي تطرح في التجمعات الدولية و الندوات العالمية, لما يحمل من اضرار بالحقوق المدنية و الشخصية و هتك حرية التدين, ألا و هو ظاهرة الارهاب و محاربته, خاصة و أنني أعيش في بلد داق ويلات هدا المرض الفتاك.

هو استهدف سلخ أمة عن هويتها. و الكثير من المحللين السياسيين في بداية العشرية الحالية يعتبرون أن مصطلح الارهاب لم يلق هدا الاهتمام الواسع و الشاسع الا بعد أحداث الجزائر خلال العشرية السوداء و التي أعقبت بأحداث الحادي عشر من سبتمبر بالولايات المتحدة الأمريكية. و كما يقول المثل: ‘اسأل المجرب و لا تسأل الطبيب‘, فأنا كنت ممن عايشوا هده الأحداث بكل جوارحي و كأنها أفلام هيتشكوك, اد أكتب هدا المقال و بدني يقشعر.

قد لا يصدق أحدهم أن بلد الجهاد و الرجال, بلد البطولات, بلد المليون و نصف المليون شهيد قد يعيش حربا طائفية بين أبناء البلد الواحد بعد أقل من نصف قرن من استقلاله, فقد قتل على يد ضابط الاستخبارات في الجزائر عدد كبير من الأبرياء ممن لا علاقة لهم بأي عمل سياسي أو عسكري, اد كنت أسمع في اليوم و الليلة بخمسة عشر عملية اعدام أو مجازر جماعية في القرى و المداشر, و مند أيام سمعنا أن الرجل الثاني في جبهة الانقاد المنحلة قد تعرض للضرب المبرح على أيدي ممثلات عن عائلات ضحايا الارهاب, و هدا ما يشعرك بأن مسار المصالحة الوطنية في الجزائر الدي أقره الرئيس الحالي و الانفراج السياسي لا يعيش أحلى أيامه.

أتدكر عندما كنت طالبة في الصف الابتدائي  في سنوات التسعينيات, صباح يوم السبت الدي يوافق بداية الأسبوع عندنا و نحن نستعد لرفع النشيد الوطني, لاحظت على خلفية باب مدرستنا قد علقت منشورات من امضاء جماعة الانقاد تطالب فيه المدارس الابتدائية بالغاء اللغة الفرنسية و هي اللغة الثانية في البلد من البرنامج الدراسي و الزام الفتيات على ارتداء الزي الشرعي, و ان لم ينفد القرار في غضون أسبوع كان مصيرنا القتل, و كأن الاسلام انتشر بحد السيف, و كنت آنداك أقيم بمنطقة عرفت ب ‘ المنطقة الحمراء‘, فسألت مديرة مدرستنا و كانت آنداك امرأة عرفت برباطة الجأش و قول الحق و هي لا تخشى في دلك لومة لائم, فقد تلقت تربية دينية اسلامية وسطية لا غلو فيها على يد فقهاء جمعية العلماء المسلمين التي أنشأت وقتئد جيلا يملك مناعة ايمانية تقيه الفتنة و البأس, قلت سألتها رفقة بعض  من زملائي ببرائتنا المتدفقة عن محتوى هدا المنشور و ما يعنيه فأجابت بأنه قرار يجب تنفيده, فهده الجبهة تريد تعريب هدا الجيل الجديد و مسخ بقايا جيل القساوسة الدين درسوا في الجزائر بعد الاستقلال, و قد رفضت مديرة مدرستنا تنفيد القرار بحجة أن الاسلام يقر حرية التدين فأعدمت بعدما تعرضت الى شتى أنواع التعديب, كما تعرضت المدرسة الى اعتداء ارهابي أودى بحياة العشرات من الأبرياء, و غادرت منطقتي  و انتقلت الى العاصمة لمواصلة دراستي في ظروف أكثر أمنا, و لكن صور القتل و التعديب لم تغادر مخيلتي لحد الآن بعد مرور أكثر من عشر سنوات و كأنها حدثت بالأمس.

قد عرفت منطقتي بعد دلك جرائم قتل بشعة لم يشهد لها التاريخ مثيلا, فالدين عايشوا الاستعمار الفرنسي أقروا بأن الكافر المستدمر كان أرحم بهم من بني جلدتهم, فكيف يتخيل عاقل أن رضعا قاموا بقليهم أحياءا, فواالله تدكرك هده الشناعة بقصة أصحاب الأخدود الدين شفطت أجسادهم بزيت حام لا لأنهم رضوا بالله ربا, و كيف يقر اللبيب أن تقتحم قوات عسكرية ترتدي زيا مدنيا و تضع لحى مزيفة قرية متظاهرة بأنها جماعة اسلامية فدبحت بالخناجر اثنا عشر مدنيا و كأنهم كباش فداء تحت غطاء الجهاد في سبيل الله فالجهاد في نظر هؤلاء هو أن يرفع المسلم السلاح على أخيه المسلم و أن يرهبه و أن ينغص نومه و أن يسلخ أمة عن هويتها, بلا انه جهاد ‘البطيخ‘, ولا شك أن هدا النوع من الجهاد لا يقره دين و لا خلق  و لا تستقيم عليه حضارة البشر, كما أن فظاعة هؤلاء.

لم تقف عند هدا الحد, بل تعدتها الى اختطاف أولاد الأثرياء من أبناء الطبقة الأستقراطية و اختطاف الأجانب و احتجازهم ثم يطلبون الفدية من دويهم و الا أعدموا, أو جعلهم طعم صيد لتحقيق مصالح سياسية و اقتصادية بحتة كحادثة خطف السياح الأجانب من الصحراء الجزائرية, و قد كانت هده الجماعات تعتقل و تقتل بالجملة دون تحقق, و تتجول المجموعات بسيارات بلا اشارات  و تجمع الأموال و الاتاوات من التجار و الأغنياء تحت التهديد بالاتهام بالعلاقة مع الجماعة المسلحة.

تحضرني في دلك قصة وقعت في منطقتي لعائلة دات حسب و نسب و جاه و ثراء يعرفها القاصي و الداني أسالت لعاب الجماعة, فكان أفرادها ينزلون عليهم ضيوفا فيأكلون معا حول مائدة واحدة, و يجمعون منهم المال و الزاد, و دام هدا الحال لأكثر من عشر سنوات, و في أحد الأيام اقتحوا عليهم المنزل لا ليتقاسموا معهم مأدبة العشاء و لكن لقطع رؤوسهم واحدا واحدا فيلقوا بدلك جزاء سنمار.

و ازاء تصاعد العنف و القتل البشع في المناطق النائية, قام بعض الأهالي بأخد دورات تدريبية في حمل السلاح و استعماله و كيفية ترصد المجرم الغاشم, فكان بعض الأهالي يملكون السلاح, أما زعماء المداشر و القرى فكانوا يتبادلون أيام حراسة بينهم كحل مؤقت لوضعهم الأمني المزري, فلا عجب آنداك أن تتحدث الى رب عائلة فيقول لك أنا أملك السلاح, سأدافع عن ديني و عائلتي أو أموت دون دلك,فهدا الشعب الأبي الدي داق من ويلات العدو الفرنسي الغاشم صمد و كافح و قدم مليون و نصف المليون من أبنائه فداء لهدا الوطن, فكيف يستسلم لجماعات طائفية نسبت نفسها الى الاسلام و هو بريء منهم و اتخدته مبررا للغلو في كبح الحريات. في الوقت الدي تجري فيه محادثات سياسية و اعلامية مكثفة لاطفاء نار الفتنة, و الى أن تعطي المصالحة ثمارا يانعة القطف, يبقى حلم الجزائري في العيش تحت لواء بلد يؤمن بالحريات الفردية و يقر حرية التدين, حلما مؤجلا قد يرفعه من هو أولى به, و قدادعى بعض من هؤلاء ممن تابوا و قرروا وضع السلاح أن غاية هؤلاء كانت مشروعة و هي انشاء دولة اسلامية, الا أن الوسيلة فيها غير مشروعة, فالاسلام حريص على مشروعية الوسيلة حرصه على شرعية الغاية.

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Amr Muhammad al-Nud, Algeria, Age 23
Assassination of Dreams

لم يكن اعتراف بعض الأنظمة السياسية العربية بالديمقراطية إلا من باب إرضاء وكسب مودة الأطراف الدولية لنيل المساعدات المالية والانخراط في المنظومة الرأسمالية العالمية ، ومداعبة شعوبها بديمقراطية (تقليدية) مازالت غارقة في محيطات من المخاطر والاحتمالات المتضاربة لعدم اكتمال مقومات وشروط الممارسة الديمقراطية فكل ما تحقق للمجتمعات العربية لا يتعدى وجود هياكل ومؤسسات ونصوص في الدساتير والقوانين لا تسمن ولا تغني من  جوع،  لكنها مع ذلك أتاحت الفرصة للشعوب العربية لممارسة الحد الأدنى من العملية الديمقراطية وفقاً لسقف الحرية التي تحدده كل دولة عربية على شعبها ونتيجة لذلك ظلت الديمقراطية العربية روح ميتة عقيمة لم تستطع تحديث نفسها بعد أن تفردت الأنظمة السياسية بصياغتها وتسخيرها وتركيبها كيف ما تشاء فتلاعبت بثروات المجتمع من خلال استغلالها للأجهزة الأمنية للتمديد استيطانها الأبدي في البناء الداخلي والخارجي للدولة وتناوبت على امتصاص وعي الشعوب وأضعاف العملية التعليمية بدعمها للأجهزة تقليدية تعيد أنتاج القمع الفكري والعاطفي والنفسي من خلال تغليبها لنموذج السلطة البطريركية وبذلك سادت الطاعة العمياء والعداء الواضح للإبداع والنقد ولم يسمح بخلق أي وعي متعدد الآراء والمواقف بحرية بل أنها اغتالت كل أحلام التغيير والتحديث .
و من بين هذه المجتمعات العربية المجتمع اليمني وتجربته الديمقراطية المأزومة التي اعتقد أنها رغم ذلك في صدى إعادة إنتاج نفسها من جديد ولو أن ذلك بطريقة غير منظمة بعد تنامي وعي أفراد المجتمع وتعدد الآراء والمواقف و ارتفاع أصوات المظلومين حيث بدأت بذور الديمقراطية تقاوم السموم والمبيدات الكيمائية التي تعترضها من قبل الثقافة التقليدية والنظام السياسي ولكن مازالت المسافات طويلة وخطيرة حتى نرى ثمار ثقافة ديمقراطية ناضجة .
 فإن كان هنالك مجتمعات حديثة تتلذذ بممارسة الديمقراطية فان هنالك الكثير من المجتمعات التقليدية مازال أفراده يتجرعون القهر كل يوم في مجتمع محاط بأسوار شاهقة تحجب نور الحداثة وقيود ثقيلة تعيق المحاولات الخجولة للممارسات الديمقراطية وسحب من الدخان تظلل وجودهم الغريب في مجتمع تحكمه العادات والتقاليد والأعراف البالية باسم الدولة التقليدية التي اغلب رجالها من أفراد القبيلة .
لا يمكنني تصور أي مستقبل جيد لهذا المجتمع التقليدي الذي تتشابه فيه الوجوه السياسية المعارضة والحاكمة ، فهي أولا لم تؤمن بعد بالتعددية السياسية وحرية التعبير عن الرأي و لا تعير أي اهتمام لمشاريع التغيير بل إنها لا تؤمن بها بقدر ما تستغلها للحصول أو للبقاء في السلطة والظهور أمام الجماهير بصورة حداثية ، وأنا أعتقد أن  كل تلك المقدمات تقود المجتمع نحو الهاوية بلا محالة فكل ما كان يحلم به لن يتحقق ما دامت اغلب الوجوه السياسية والثقافية التي تتبنى مشاريع التغيير والتحديث هي نفسها الوجوه والقواعد الرئيسية التي تعمق هذه الفجوات الثقافية وتغتال أحلام الحرية والديمقراطية والمساواة لان اغلب هذه الوجوه مازالت تحت تأثير فيروس ثقافة الجماعات التقليدية وهذا ما جعل اغلب فئات وجماعات المجتمع لا تؤمن بحرية الرأي والرأي الأخر بشفافية، فكل من يخالفها ويتبنى نظريات وأيديولوجيات مختلفة عنها من الأكيد هو عدو يجب تصفيته فكرياً وربما جسدياً لو تطلب الأمر ذلك حسب ما تراه هذه الجماعات التقليدية.
كنت قد واجهت العديد من أشكال القمع الفكري والقيود والعراقيل التي حاولت إزاحتي من الخارطة الفكرية للمجتمع كأنني بإيماني بأفكار ونظريات أخرى أكون قد خالفت المجتمع بعد أن تجاوزت الخطوط الحمراء واخترقت الثكنات العسكرية واقتحمت حصون القبيلة وهددت الأمن القومي للدولة،نتيجة لجمود وتصلب هذه الثقافة التقليدية التي تقف عائقً أمام تجذير وترسخ ثقافة الديمقراطية ، ومازلت أتذكر ما حدث لي عندما رفعت تقرير عن دراسة اجتماعية ونفسية أعددته حول ( دور إحدى مؤسسات التأهيل الاجتماعي للأحداث الجانحين في اليمن ) حيث اشتمل التقرير على العديد من الانتقادات والنقاط الساخنة تناولت فيها دراسة تأثير الممارسات الدينية المتشددة التي تقوم بها هذه المؤسسة على الأحداث الجانحين بعد أن شاهدت بعض أشكال العنف الجسدي والروحي الذي يتعرضون له في تلك المؤسسة أذا ما رفضوا أو تقاعسوا عن تأدية الواجبات الدينية كالصلاة أو قراءة القرءان أو الاستماع للمحاضرات الدينية وعندما بدأت بعرض كل ما شاهدته وحدثني به أولئك الأحداث ونتائج الدراسة على أستاذي الجامعي الذي يعتبر احد كبار قادة الحزب الحاكم الذي لم يروقها انتقادي للممارسات الدينية المتشددة والخاطئة التي أثبتت استياء وسخط أولئك الأحداث من المؤسسة وبرامجها بحسب ما توصلت إليه نتائج  الدراسة وبعد أن طلبت من أستاذي الجامعي أن يقيم نتائج الدراسة من منظور علمي وموضوعي لا عاطفي تجاهل ذلك واتهمني بأنني ارتكب حماقة كبيرة ، لكنني واصلت عرض التقرير وشرحت النتائج التي توصلت إليها حول اتجاهات أولئك الأحداث الجانحين حول العلاقات الجنسية فكانت النتائج أنعاكسً سلبياً للممارسات الدينية المتشددة التي اثبت إخفاقها في هذا الجانب نتيجة لإغفالها الجانب النفسي والاجتماعي في التوعية وإعادة التأهيل حيث أفادت الإحصاءات التي جمعتها بان 50%من الأحداث الجانحين مازالوا يتعرضون للتحرش الجنسي داخل المؤسسة الاجتماعية ، وبعد أن انتهيت من عرض التقرير أردت أن أقدم شكوى ضد تلك المؤسسة بناء على نتائج دراستي إلا أن أستاذي العزيز رفض أن يعطيني الضوء الأخضر وحاول الدفاع عن تلك المؤسسة الاجتماعية باعتبارها مؤسسة حكومية ، حينها وجدت صعوبة في عرض هذه الدراسة على الجهات المختصة للعمل بنتائجها لذلك طلبت من أستاذي العزيز باعتباره رئيساً للجامعة أن يوافق على الشكوى التي أريد أن أرفعها ضد مدير تلك المؤسسة وبعض العاملين فيها بسب أن مدير المؤسسة منعني من أجراء دراستي على بعض الأحداث ذو الأعمار الكبيرة التي تتراوح أعمارهم بين 14-18 سنة ،خاصة بعد أن تعرف على محتوى استمارات البحث من أسئلة حول العلاقات الجنسية ومدى رضا أو قبول الحدث الجانح بالممارسات الدينية المتشددة ، ولم يكتفي ذلك المدير بمنعي بل ووجه لي بعض الكلمات والانتقادات الغير أخلاقية كذلك وصفني احد المدرسين الدينين في تلك المؤسسة بأنني فاسق و ماجن ،وبعد أن سردت كل ما سبق كانت إجابة أستاذي بان ما قام به المدير يصب في مصلحة حماية الأحداث. حاولت توضيح انتقادي العلمي من خلال استعانتي بتحليلات علمية للكثير من العلماء والباحثين النفسين والاجتماعيين إلا أن ذلك لم يكن كافياً لإقناع رجل أمن يحمل دكتورة في علم الاجتماع ،  لذلك حاولت التودد منه بطلب أخير  فطلبت منه أن يطالب بدرج الثقافة الجنسية ضمن برامج تلك المؤسسة الاجتماعية ،ولم أكد انتهي من كلماتي الأخيرة حتى انفجرت موجة غضب عارمة اجتاحت القاعة ولم اشعر إلا بكلمات جارحة وقذائف لا أخلاقية تترامى عليا من كل الجهات كأنني حينها طالبت بالتشريع للعلاقات الجنسية الشاذة .
 أعتقد أن الثقافة التقليدية هي العائق الأول والرئيسي أمام كل محاولات الإبداع والنقد وحرية التعبير حتى أنها استقطبت الكثير من المثقفين والسياسيين وجندتهم للدفاع عنها ، بل أنها استطاعت أن تستخدم الدين لضمان استمراريتها وبناء آلية قمع ديني لكل من يحاول تهديد بقائها ،ومازلت اذكر ذلك اليوم الذي اتفق فيه ما يقارب 90 طالبه وطالب جامعي على منحي وسام الكفر والإلحاد ، بعد أن انتقدت لغة ومضمون الخطاب الديني (خطبة الجمعة)حيث اعتبرت أن الخطاب الديني السائد في المجتمع خطاب متشدد وبعيد عن ما يحدث على الساحة الاجتماعية واعتبرته خطاب سلبي أكثر من أن يكون ايجابيا لأنه مازال يدور في حلقة مفرغة يعتمد في وجوده على التغني بالماضي ويرفض أن يعالج الحاضر باعتباره حاضر له زمانه ومكانه الخاص به ،إضافة إلى ما سبق قمت بانتقاد تصوير الجنة على أنها مجرد منتجع سياحي يخلد إليه المسلمين (للأكل والشرب والجنس) ،لان الجنة بنظري أعظم من هذا التصوير الاستهلاكي ،وانتقدت تصوير المرأة على أنها مجرد شيء من الشيطان وفسق وعار وعلى أنها كائن أنساني يجب أن يظل خلف الأسوار بعيد عن الرجال وان تظل مجرد آلة جنسية تلبي شهوات الأزواج ، كل هذه الانتقادات والجراءة التي صغت فيها ذلك التقرير حول الخطاب الديني جعلتني كما في كل مرة عرضة للكلمات الجارحة والألفاظ الغير أخلاقية بل أن احد الطلاب (الذكور) كاد أن ينهض من كرسيه ليفرغ غضب الآخرين عليا لظنه بان دمي قد أصبح حلال ومستباح بعد أن أصبحت كافرا وفاسق بنظرهم .
لم أكن أريد سوى أن أتنفس حريتي وان أمارس الديمقراطية الذي يتغنى النظام السياسي بها ولم أكن اعلم أن ثمن حريتي سيمنحني كل تلك الألقاب ، بل أن بعض أستاذاتي الجامعيين وبالأخص الذين ينتمون للحزب الحاكم ظلموني بطريقة تقيمهم للمستوى العلمي لي نتيجة لتعصبهم السياسي ضدي بسب قيامي بكتابة مقالات سياسية ضد سياسات الدولة الفاشلة إضافة إلى اختلاف وجهات النظر بيننا .
هنا في هذا المجتمع التقليدي تعتبر بعض الفئات المتعلمة والمثقفة أول لواء عسكري ينتصب للاغتيال أحلام التغيير والتحديث والحرية منذ بدايتها رغم أن الأحلام ليست لها نهاية فلماذا يتشدقون بالديمقراطية بعد ذلك ؟
لابد أن أكون واحد منهم حتى يرضى عني الكثيرين ، ولعل أخرهم احد أصدقاء أبي الكبار والعضو الفعال والقيادي الكبير في الحزب الحاكم وأحد رجال الحكومة المعروفين الذي كان قد وعد أبي بأنه سيجد لي وظيفة جيدة بعد أن أتحصل على درجة البكالوريوس، فظل وعده هذا بمثابة الإلهام والدافع الكبير لي فانا لن أكون عاطلاً عن العمل بعد أن أتخرج على الأقل إلا أنني تفاجئت حين جاء وقت الوفاء بالوعد الملعون وببساطة تناسى وأنكر وعده وقال ل أبي  ( مادام ابنك ينتقد الرئيس والحكومة ولا يدعى احد ، لذلك اتركه يتذوق ثمن حريته وتطاوله على أسياده وما كان يحلم به لن يجده أبداً ) رغم أنني لست بحاجه إليه إلا أن السياسية الإدارية والمزاجية في التوظيف وتوزيع الوظائف فقط للأنصار والموالين هي من أزعجتني فالمعارضين والمستقلين لهم النار وعليهم أن يدفعوا ثمن حريتهم غالياً. إن ثمن الحرية في مجتمعي هو الحرمان من الحقوق والقمع والاعتقال والفقر واغتيال الأحلام انه بالفعل الموت ببطء إن لم يكن الانتحار هو الحل.

Sameer Al-Zein, Sudan, Age 24
القمع و القمع الزائد المجتمع السوداني مثالاً

    كمدخل لهذا الموضوع استعير ما سطره العالمان فرويد عن القمع وماركوز عن القمع الزائد, ليشكل ارضية مناسبة لمناقشة موضوع القمع وكبت الحريات العامة و الشخصية, الذي يمارسه الدولة السودانية, و مايفرضه المجتمع السوداني من قمع اجتماعي و جنسي و الذي بدوره يدخل في تفاصيل حياتنا اليومية, صغيرها و كبيرها, وفي الخصوصيات و العموميات.

    يعتبر فرويد ان القمع من وجهة نظر اجتماعية, يأخذ شكل اٍكراه خارجي, اي اجتماعي يمارس على اعضاء المجتمع كافة و يجبرهم على اٍِعادة صوغ  واقعهم او تقييدها, و التوافق  مع المعايير المقررة سابقاً, و التخلص مما قد يربك النظام الاجتماعي او يشكك فيه.
   اما ماركوز فيعتبر القمع الزائد هو جملة تلك الرقابات المتولدة من مؤسسات السيطرة الخصوصية. و يولد هذا المبدأ جهازاً يكون مهمته بلورة مصالح قوى السيطرة. و نتيجته كبت اٍضافي يفرض على الدوافع. و المتأمل في سير المجتمع العصري, يستنتج اٍنه مجتمع ((كلياني)) و ((مغلق)) لأنه قادر على ادماج قوى المعارضة و اختزال الانسان الى انسان ذي بعد واحد, يجرد من ما يملك من سلطة رفض او معارضة, فما يعرفه المجتمع الحالي من اضطهاد سياسي, و سياسة قمع شاملة, و خطاب مغلق بما يترتب عليه من انحراف سياسي ليس الاُ تتمة الى عملية القمع.

القمع السياسي
    بتاريخ كتابتي لهذا المقال يكون النظام الحاكم في الخرطوم على اعتاب الاحتفال بمرور عشرون عاماً على الاٍنقلاب الذي قاده نظام الجبهة الاسلاميَة القوميَة, ذي المرجعيَة الفكرية لنظيم الاخوان المسلمون, خلال هذه الحقبة الطويلة من الزمان فرض النظام رؤية احادية يمثل قمة الشمولية, مما ادى بدوره الى اٍطالة امد الحرب الاهلية في جنوب السودان, وتفجر حروب جديدة في شرق السودان وغربه, و اشتدَ المعارضة الداخلية, و الحصار و العقوبات الخارجية. ولتمكين نفسها عملت السلطة على استخدام كافة الوسائل التي تضمن استمرارها وبالتالي بدأت في اضطهاد ابناء المناطق التي حملت السلاح في وجهها واصفةً اياها بالعمالة للغرب و التخوين الوطني وغيرها من الاتهامات.
     وانا كفرد انحدر من احد المناطق التي حملت السلاح, تعرضت للكثير من انواع القمع و الاضطهاد من قبل هذا النظام الذي لم يراعي التنوع الاٍثني والثقافي و اللغوي الكبير في السودان.
    ابرز مثال على توجه الدولة القمعية, هو عندما كنا في بداية سني الدراسة, قامت السلطات المحلية باغلاق مدرستنا بدعوى ان هذه المدرسة ماهي اٍلاً اداة للتبشير بالديانة المسيحية في وسط المجتمع الاسلامي على اعتبار ان مدرستنا – وهي مدرسة الراهب دانيال كمبوني- تتلقى دعم من الكنيسة الكاثوليكية, و الحق انً مدرسة الراهب دانيال كمبوني لم يكن ذراع للتبشير كما ادعت الحكومة في حيثيات اغلاقها للمدرسة بشهادتنا نحن المسلمين بالمدرسة, حيث طوال دراستي في المدرسة لم يدعوني احد الى المسيحية بل العكس هو الصحيح تماماُ حيث تمً احضار أستاذ ليقوم بدريسنا مادة التربية الاسلامية لتربية النشء على مباديء الثقافة الاسلامية, حيث كانت فكرة اٍنشاء المدرسة هي مساعدة لنا نحن ابناء الفقراء النازحون من مناطقنا بسبب الحرب التي اندلعت هناك, حيث كنا سعداء نحن و اهلينا بهذا الخدمة الانسانية الجليلة التي يقدمها المدرسة من دعم كامل للتلاميذ, بحيث رفع عن كاهل اولياء الامور عبء اثقل كاهلهم  بعد اغلاق المدرسة, و تحويلنا الى مدارس اخرى, لكن ماذا نقول على نظام فاشي انقلب على الديمقراطية يقول انً لها مشروع حضاري لنشر الاسلام في في كل انحاء المعمورة. على الرغم من انً دعواهم يستند الى المرجعية الاسلامية في ظاهرها الاَ انَ باطنها عنصري قح, على اعتبار انً مدرستنا يحتوي على نازحين من اثنية واحدة وانً من واجب السلطة دمجهم في المجتمع.

     و كمثال اخر لما تعرض له المرء من من قمع بسبب عنصره وهو اكثر وضوحاً في تحيز الدولة تجاه عنصر على حساب بقية المكونات, وهو عندما اكملنا المرحلة الثانوية كان رغبتي الالتحاق باكاديمية عسكرية بحيث تتخرج مهندساً برتبة ملازم اول, حيث السبب الاساسي الذي دفعنا الى هذا الاتجاه هو الخوف من التكاليف الباهظة للدراسة بالجامعة و المعروف انُ الاكاديميات العسكرية مدعومة من قبل الدولة و العمل مضمون بعد التخرج, تقدمت بطلبي, و اجتزت كافة الاختبارات البدنية و الصحية و الامنية بتفوق ملحوظ على بقية الاقران, لكن كان للقائد العام راي اخر, حيث تمَ استبعاد كل من ينحدر من اصول افريقية و انا من ضمنهم بالطبع, حيث علمنا فيما بعد, انَ هذه العنصرية هو التوجه الرسمي للدولة بحيث تبقي العناصر الافريقية بعيداُ عن المؤسسة العسكرية, خصوصاُ اولئك الذين لم ينضموا الى الاجسام المولية للنظام ايام المرحلة الثانوية.
    وفي تطبيق لمقولة فرويد و ماركوز المذكور آنفاً, واٍذا اضفنا اليه ظاهرة القبلية المتفشية بين مكونات المجتمع السوداني, فاٍننا نرى انَ مصدر تلك الظواهر هو القمع الذي يمارسه يومياً من مجتمع منقسم ثقافياً وفكرياً و اثنياً, ومن سلطة دينية عودتنا لاجدواها, و دورها كمرآة عاكسة لأزمات هذا المجتمع.
     لذلك قدمنا استقالتنا كشباب من الحياة السياسية, لأن آي إنتخابت جرت في السودان يكون النتائج معروفة سلفاً ومعلبة, حتى تلك التي تجري في الإتحادات الجامعية.

القمع الاجتماعي
     اٍزاء مافعله السلطة, حصل شرخ كبير في وسط الجماعة السودانية, وتبلور العنصرية ليصبح من ثقافة رجل الشارع العادي, بعد ما عرف عن الشعب السوداني التسامح, واصبحنا اليوم وكنتيجة لما اراده ساستنا, لا تدخل مع احد في حديث إلاَ ويسألك من اي قبيلة تنحدر و على هذا المعيار يتم التعامل معك. و القمع الاجتماعي لا رادع له و يتمثل في بالقبلية و العمل و الثقافة, وهذا ما يجعله قمعاً زائداً بطبيعته, من دون حاجة الى اليات تجعله امراُ واقعاُ.
    فالقبلية اصبحت تنوعاُ و ثراءً للسودان يجب ان لا نتخلى عنها, و التدين اصبح معولاُ لهدم صرح الوطن.
     اما بالنسبه اٍلى العمل فانا اعتقد ان اي شاب سوداني يقرأ هذا المقال هو شخص يبحث عن عمل و اٍذا كان يعمل فاٍن عمله مضنٍ مقابل اَجر ضئيل لا يكفيه حتى منتصف الشهر, و في كل الاحوال هو شخص يفكر في الهجرة.
     يقول ماركوز اٍنه لكي يكون هناك قمع زائد يتطلًب الأمر تضافر سلسلة كاملة من التعديلات و الامتناعات التي أقرتها مجموعة اٍجتماعية ترمي اٍلى الحفاظ على ما لها من سلطة و اٍمتيازات و اٍلى مضاعفتها و ما يدل على وجود القمع الزائد هو وجود ((....تقسيم هرمي للعمل, او رقابة عامة على حياة الافراد الخاصة....)).
و فيما يتعلق بتنظيم الرغبات يلاحظ ماركوز بأن (( مبدأ المردود يتحكًم من الداخل في تنظيم الرغبات و الحاجات باٍسم الاٍكراه المعمًم!!
  وفي تطبيق هذه الفكرة نجد انً الشباب السوداني بات عمله اليوم البحث عن عمل او محاولاً الهجرة المشروعة و الغير المشروعة الى كل انحاء العالم بما في ذلك اٍسرائيل, فكم مرة قتل واعتقل حرس الحدود المصري مهاجرين افارقة يريدون التسلل الى داخل الدولة العبريًة, ومعظم هولأ المهاجرين سودانيين. مما حدا بقائد حركة تحرير السودان السيد عبد الواحد محمد نور الى افتتاح مكتب للحركة في تل ابيب لرعاية شئون اللاجئين السودانيين هناك, على الرغم من تنديدنا بالخطوة, وشجبنا اٍلى ما ذهب اٍليه السيد نور, الاَ اننا يمكن رؤية ماوصل اليه الاوضاع في الوطن السوداني وما يحصل لشعبه من سياسات قمعية.
    لكن من نتائج فوضى فرص العمل و تفشي المحسوبية و الواسطة في العمل, اصبحنا نحن حاملي الشهادات الجامعية شبيهين بغير المتعلمين, بحيث البطالة تساوي بين الجميع, فالكل يقضي وقته بالصورة نفسه.
   و الصورة الأكثر دلالة على القمع لأجتماعي, و لكن غير المباشرة, هي القمع الثفاقي الذي تبدأ فعالياته مبكراُ, بحيث ينظر الشخص المولود في شمال السودان الى الجنوبي على اٍعتبار انه الاخر بالنسبة له, و بالتالي لا يوجد انسجام بين مكونات المجتمع, و ابرز دليل على ما نقول هو ما يجري الأن في اقليم دارفور غربي السودان, وكيف انً النسج الاجتماعي تهتًك بالصورة المعروفة لدينا, و الذي يصعب رتقه من جديد, فتحول الصراع بين المزارعين و الرعاة الى صراع بين العرب و الزرقة و ما افرزه بعد ذلك من تداعيات خطيرة في المجتمع السوداني.

القمع الجنسي
    هذا النوع من القمع مرتبط بشكل اساسي بالقمع الاجتماعي, فهما وجهان لعملة واحدة, فالمجتمع لا ينظر بعين الرضا لكل تجمع يختلط فيه الجنسين كالجامعات مثلاً يساعدهم في ذلك توجهات الدولة الاسلاموية البعيدة عن مقاصد الاسلام السمحة, وهي منحازة دائماًََ للذكور ضد الاٍناث. ولكن تحت ضغط المنظمات العاملة في مجال حقوق المراة تراجعت بعض الشئ, ومع ذلك تمَ تأسيس بعض الجامعات للبنات لفصلهم عن اخوانهم الاولاد, ومن يعترض على ذلك فهو يريد اٍشاعة الفساد باٍختلاط الجنسين.
    ومن ناحية ثانية, فان الموضوعات الجنسية يتم كبتها واٍبقائها سرية, بحيث لا يتم مناقشتها على مستوى الاٍعلام مثلاُ, بحيث تتحول الى موضوعات اٍجتماعية يستفاد منها على الصعيد العام. وفي نفس هذا المنحى منعت اٍدارة جامعة الخرطوم تدريس رواية "موسم الهجرة الى الشمال" للروائي العالمي الطيب صالح, لطلبة كلية الاداب باٍيعاذ من السلطة, قائلة انَ هذا العمل الادبي المتميز تحتوي على اٍيحات جنسية تخدش الحياء.

    في النهاية اٍنَ ما طرحناه عن القمع السياسي و الاجتماعي و الجنسي, يقودنا الى ما اٍستنتجه ماركوز من انَ سيطرة المجتمع الحالي الخالية من العنف المادي (الاٍرهاب) تطبع حياة الناس بما أفرزته من اٍجماع لم يعرف له التاريخ مثيلاً.
  و لكن هذا القبول المضمر يتحوَل فيما بعد الى قبول حقيقي ينتج قيوده الافراد انفسهم, مما يؤدي اٍلى اٍصابة قوى الرفض و المعارضة بالوهن, و تنقاد الى نظرة ذات بعد  واحد للاٍنسان الحديث. و يفسر هذه النظرة اٍتساع قاعدة التوافق الاٍجتماعي, بل و حتى مشروعية الدفاع عن السياسات القمعية.

Farsi

B.A., 20, Iran
آرزوی به تعویق افتاده م

Deadline
The contest is currently closed. The next round will be launching Fall 2009.

Links:

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Prizes:
$10,000 in total prize money: One grand prize winner in the Middle East and one in the US will receive $2,000. One second place winner in the Middle East and one in the US will receive $1,500. Three runners up in the Middle East and three in the US will receive $500 each. 50 book prizes will be awarded to additional outstanding essays.

• 2009 Winning Essays
• 2008 Winning Essays
• 2007 Winning Essays
• 2006 Winning Essays