Third Place (3 winners):

Their Struggle Is Our Struggle Too
Jessica Hindman, New York, Age 25

Recounting personal anecdotes from Cairo, the author illustrates how the kind of political humor Americans toss around everyday is no laughing matter for many Middle Eastern citizens. At once amusing and sobering, the essay makes a compelling case for engaging in the struggle for civil rights reform (though its analyses of US domestic politics are beyond the scope of the essay contest).

In August 2001 I left my small town in the heart of the Appalachia for the chaotic streets of Cairo, Egypt.  I was one of approximately 150 American students planning to study abroad for a semester at the American University in Cairo.  I had taken a few introductory courses on the Middle East in college, but nothing could have prepared me for what was to follow. 

A few days into my stay, I found myself sitting at a busy café in the heart of Cairo, surrounded by several new friends – a group which included both American and Arab students.  One of the Americans, Joe, was a stand-up comedy star at Georgetown
University.  When one of the Arab students made a passing comment about Egyptian President Hosni Mubarak – Joe made a loud joke about the dictator.  Laughing, I made a comment as well – something along the lines of "Hosni Mubarak – what an asshole." 

Immediately we were surrounded by the entire cafe wait staff.  Even though my Arabic is minimal, I quickly understood that Joe and I had better shut up.  A man came up to us, and issued a more explicit warning in English about the police. 

We were shaken, and apologized profusely to the staff and our Arab friends, who were looking at us with a mixture of horror and admiration.  It was my first taste of outright censorship.  It felt a little like middle school – except the men standing at the door weren't gym teachers – they were military guards. 

I remember thinking to myself what chaos would erupt if every time someone at my hometown diner made a joke about Bill Clinton's sex life, or George Bush's stupidity, they were threatened with arrest.  But of course, I thought, I live in America.  We can say anything we want in America. 

Two weeks later it was a Tuesday and everything about America had changed in an instant.  And suddenly Americans could not say anything they wanted.  Suddenly, American officials were warning Americans to "watch what they say, watch what they do."

Censorship, dictatorial leadership, violations of civil and human rights.  From my vantage-point as an American in the Middle East I quickly realized these problems were not Arab problems, or Muslim problems, or Egyptian problems.  These were forms of oppression which could inflict any society at any moment – no matter how strong its history of freedom, no matter how sturdy its democratic convictions.  I saw, in those terrifying days, that there would not and could never be a final victory against these afflictions.  There could only be a constant struggle against them. 

In the years that have followed, some Americans have taken up that struggle, vocalizing their opposition to encroachment of civil liberties such as wiretapping and the internment and torture of prisoners who have not been charged with crimes.  This is a daily, moment-by-moment struggle.  It is sometimes a vague one, as we try to balance individual freedom with homeland security.  It is not always a glamorous or courageous one.  There is no bravery in writing a letter to a congressman, or staging a protest.  But Americans can participate in these unglamorous acts regardless of bravery because we are free to do so without serious threat of incarceration. 

It is the lack of this freedom to struggle against oppression which leaves Egyptians, and their neighbors in the Middle East, with only a deferred dream.  This is not to say that many do not try, but it is always with the fear of censorship, imprisonment, or worse.  As described in Hughes' poem, this dream's deferment manifests itself in a variety of ways – in apathy, violence, and all the actions in between.  One thing a dream deferred does not do: Disappear. 

But I think lines from another Hughes poem might illuminate even further what is at stake for Americans if we do not consider oppression in the Middle East our own problem:
"Sometimes perhaps you don't want to be a part of me.
Nor do I often want to be a part of you.
But we are, that's true!"

Americans may not want to involve themselves in the Middle East, and Middle Easterners may not want America involved in their lives.  But we are already inextricably linked: through American foreign policy and military action, through culture, through the increasingly globalized world we live in.  As I write this millions of Middle Easterners have already made America their home and hundreds of thousands of American citizens live or are stationed in the Middle East.  In the past decade it has become almost cliché to state the world is shrinking, but it cannot be emphasized enough.  Take it from me, a West Virginia native who has eaten chicken lo mein at a Mexican restaurant in Cairo, frequented by karaoke-singing Saudi and Japanese tourists who know the words to American pop songs better than I do. 

It is true we come from different places, different cultures.  It is also increasingly irrelevant.  We can talk of here and there and us and them, but like it or not, we are all becoming a part of the same thing, something yet to be defined.  With these new paradigms come the responsibility to open our eyes and see the "other" for who they really are – which turns out not to be very "other" at all. 

The white participants in the Civil Rights movement embodied this notion.  They realized black people were not so "other." They realized the black problem was also the white problem.  The struggle could not succeed as only a black struggle – it had to be an American struggle.  The white struggle, however, was not the same as the black struggle.  Whites were in possession of the country's political and economic power.  They had to be convinced the Civil Rights movement was worthwhile struggle for the movement to succeed. 

Likewise America has the economic and military upper-hand over Middle Eastern countries.  Thus, Americans must be convinced that people in the Middle East deserve civil rights.  Americans must feel that Middle Easterners' struggle against oppression is an imperative American struggle as well.

But while September 11th and the subsequent wars have forced more Americans to pay attention to events in the Middle East, the American government has not done nearly enough to educate its citizens on the challenges this region poses to both us and Middle Easterners.  After September 11th, I kept waiting for our government to announce new programs that would send American college students over to Middle Eastern universities, or to offer tuition waivers to students who excelled in Arabic, Farsi, or Pashto.  I kept waiting for someone to announce an opening of an Egyptian University in New York, or a Lebanese University in Washington D.C., to act as a counterpart for schools like the American University in Cairo and the American University in Beirut.  No such announcements came. 

While Egyptian and Lebanese students value American education, Americans have not yet realized the value of obtaining a Middle Eastern education, one which would involve language acquisition, cultural and religious studies, as well as history courses and political seminars.  To the extent Americans are now involved in the Middle East, it is criminal to not have an education system which values teaching ordinary Americans about the region.  Just as white Americans were galvanized by reading works such as Uncle Tom's Cabin and other abolitionist literature, today's Americans could be inspired by Azar Nafisi's Reading Lolita in Tehran, Hanan Ashrawi's This Side of Peace, the works of Naguib Mahfouz, Sonallah Ibrahim, Nawal el-Saadawi, Edward Said, and many others.  The Middle East is trying to tell America its story – and we must listen – for it is our story now too.  

Furthermore, the strident anti-immigration policies the American government has enacted since September 11th have kept the most brilliant and motivated Middle Eastern students from being able to seek an education in the United States.  I will never forget traveling with my friend Khalil, a Jordanian citizen.  Khalil's family members have risked their lives promoting American policies in Amman.  But when Khalil and I arrived at JFK airport after a vacation in the Middle East, I sailed through the customs line, while Khalil, a gifted economics student at Columbia University, was held in an interrogation room for four hours and asked repeatedly if he was a terrorist.  Americans now know women and minorities are major contributors to our society, yet young Middle Eastern students who desire to make their contribution are literally shunned at our gates.

Michael Gerson, President Bush's speechwriter, coined the term "the soft bigotry of low expectations" to describe how racism affects African American students.  This phrase is equally apt if applied to civil rights in the Middle East.  Too many Americans have low expectations for the Middle East as a whole, for Muslims, for Arabs.  Too many books have been written on why democracy and Islam are incompatible; too many caricatures have been sketched of the "angry Arab."  We must refuse these notions which lead us to be soft bigots. 

And we must expect more from the Middle East and ourselves.  If we don't truly believe that people everywhere want and deserve basic human rights and democratic freedom we cannot begin to achieve these goals.  We must expect that Middle Easterners will be brave, that Middle Eastern women and minorities will rise to the cause if they have our support.  We must expect that the Middle East will be a very different, more modern and liberal place in the coming years.  To not expect it is tantamount to the bigotry of believing they are somehow not as capable as we are at gaining and maintaining freedom. 

When the citizens of the Middle East gain this freedom, as I believe they will, it is important for Americans to remember that the moment will not necessarily be climatic and confetti-strewn.  We might not even notice it has happened until long after its arrival.  While all revolutions have their moments of glory and gore – such as Martin Luther King's famous "I Have a Dream" speech or the demonstrations at Tiananmen Square – to succeed they must progress in infinite unglamorous actions.  There is no applause or dramatic lighting for these actions.  The truest victories are often the hardest to celebrate.   When I get on a bus in New York City no one is celebrating the fact that everyone – of all races – is sitting together.  Most people aren't even thinking about it now, but if the early civil rights activists could see what a typical bus ride is like today, they would have great cause for celebration.

Until then there can be only a struggle – a free struggle in America and a covert but unyielding one in the Middle East.  One of the biggest challenges for Middle Eastern nations is how to define themselves.  Many inflammatory leaders in that region have attempted to do this by trying to differentiate their world – i.e. the Muslim world – from the American one.  To this I say perhaps a Muslim country could – unlike America – offer all of its citizens free health care, or end poverty.  But these leaders are mistaken if they want to separate themselves from us only by turning their countries into what America was a hundred years ago – a place intolerant of civil rights – with no place for the voices of women and minorities.  Civil rights are not cultural values or American values or Western values.  They are human values. 

In the meantime, my friend Joe, who still lives in Egypt, has discovered a new joke routine.  He finds a group of men on the street and gathers them around in a huddle.  His voice drops to a whisper as he asks them in Arabic, "Do you want to know what I really think of Hosni Mubarak?"
"Yes!" they all respond – eager to hear something illegal. 
"I think," Joe says slowly, glancing around his shoulder, "I think he is the best president in the world!"

Everyone howls with laughter.

Why – and How to – Get Involved
Phillip Sitter, Illinois, Age 17

A teenager formulates a blueprint for citizen-driven public diplomacy, offering an inspiring pep-talk to jaded neighbors who look at the Middle East and ask: “Why get involved?” Sitter presents both moral and geo-strategic considerations, listing numerous specific yet simple ways Americans can assist the region’s nascent civil rights movement.

Every day, Americans are reminded of the chaos and bloodshed in the Middle East.  Often, the people who see this violence on the nightly news or on the Internet say “How horrible!” and then go on with their daily lives; nothing is done, nothing much is said.  This attitude of apathy obviously has to change, if any progress is to be made in the process of peace.  September 11, 2001 helped to change American attitudes a little bit, helping to get people more aware and involved in Middle Eastern events, but a major shift in American involvement in Middle Eastern affairs – specifically, civil rights – still needs to occur.  Some Americans may ask, why?  Why get involved, and risk more casualties of our own?

Similar questions have been asked before in American history when civil rights were threatened.  During the Southern battle for African-American civil rights, Northerners and foreign aides were criticized for getting involved.  What business did they have interfering with local affairs? After all, it wasn’t their problem, their fight.  But, here lies the truth of the matter; when civil rights are threatened, any where, at any time, it is everyone’s problem.  It is everyone’s fight, everyone’s responsibility as fellow human beings, to get involved and to defend our fellow brothers and sisters from repression.  Saving a life from totalitarianism is not imposing foreign values on a culture; individual liberty and self-determination – principles America was founded on – are part of a universal culture that has every right to be enforced. If Americans truly believe in the principles their Founding Fathers invoked when writing the Bill of Rights, they would be hypocritical if they did not enforce basic civil rights wherever they are threatened; if we say we stand for freedom, then we should all be prepared to support it, to fight for it.   

Today in the Middle East, America is presented with such a responsibility to protect civil rights.  In Syria, activists are restricted from travel.  In Iran, all but 8 of 1,014 candidates who registered were excluded in presidential elections, the Internet is censored, and activists have been murdered by the police.  All over the Middle East, women are looked down upon, and in many areas they have little or no legal rights.  Many of the regimes that sponsor such gross inequities in civil rights are also regimes which have been, or are being, supported by the U.S. government.  Policy issues aside, America now has a chance to make up for the misjudgments made in the past, and citizens now have to a chance to promote civil rights – not dictators. 

But, besides being a basic moral responsibility, the advocating of civil rights in the Middle East is also the only way to protect American and global security.  September 11 showed us that local struggles do not often remain local for very long, and that inequalities, repression, and the lacking of human dignity will inevitably spawn terrorism that will spread to other shores and take the lives of our own family members – not just strangers on the news.  Hiding behind fences and security cameras will only provide safety for so long; the only way to guarantee 100% security is not by preventing extremists from attacking, but by stopping them from wanting to attack.  By taking the initiative to look after civil rights, America shall show that it stands for freedom and justice, and the false cries to violence by extremists will begin to fall on deaf ears – their own calls to jihad becoming their greatest enemy.  People all over the Middle East will begin to realize that in America lies one of their greatest hopes of achieving civil equality, and that we are not their greatest enemy.  In order for this to occur though, Americans have to take the first steps.   

American citizens can show their support of Middle Eastern civil rights by communicating with Middle Eastern activists via the blogosphere, and then supplying the news these activists provide to leaders who can make differences in international policy and the enforcement of civil rights.  People can participate in protest rallies outside of related foreign embassies and in city streets to raise public awareness about Middle Eastern civil rights (or the lack of them).  Citizens can also sponsor fund-raising drives to help support reform movements in the Middle East, as many did in the struggle for African-American rights in the South; the fund raising could be in the form of anything from a lemonade stand to a public auction.  Families can sponsor Middle Eastern exchange students to come to study in the United States, and help inspire them to bring the individual liberties and rights seen here back to their home countries.  These works of communication, activism, generosity, and inspiration will help to propel local and international civil rights movements.  The one thing the American cannot continue to do, however, is to remain silent. 

In this situation, silence is deadly.  As long of acts of repression continue to remain unspoken and unviewed by the outside world, suffering will continue to be inflicted upon the innocent and helpless.  The hopes of people all over the Middle East for a brighter, safer, and free future will be shattered, and when all hope is gone, an environment suitable for the continued breeding of terrorism will be perpetuated.  Murder will follow murder, and the cycle of violence will go on until all involved are dead or physically unable to fight.  The dream of civil rights in the Middle East will remain just that – a dream – replaced by the nightmare of a living death that will spawn repercussions felt all over the globe.  The future is in the hands of the American people, and this future depends on which side we choose to stand with; do we stand with beacon of freedom and hope, or with the shackles of repression and the darkness of hopelessness?

The Calculated Use of Limited Resources
Mary Duhon, Texas,  Age 19

The author reflects on how she and other young Americans can harness their generation’s unique resources to help empower Middle Eastern women. Duhon develops a creative campaign around local beauty salons, emphasizing personal agency through phrases like “I am capable of” and “I can.” Her concern for leveraging limited resources and generating results reflects an entrepreneurial drive.

The women of the Middle East suffer daily from discrimination that Americans can barely comprehend and will never experience. From the mundane repression of self that every girl feels when she hides her painted toe-nails, to the horror of a victim forced to marry her rapist, the breadth and depth of misogyny in Middle Eastern countries seem to present a problem of insurmountable scale.

However, as other civil rights movements have shown us, a prolonged and organized effort by forces within and without the region can affect great change. The question then becomes how I, as a young American of limited resources, can help advance the cause of gender equality halfway around the world.

One traditional recourse for people in my position is to write letters to my representatives at the federal level asking that they intercede on behalf of women’s rights in the Middle East. They do, after all, wield the power of the purse and can decide to grant or deny development money and trading rights based on whether nations meet goals for improvement of gender equality. The American government could even dole out large grants to improve the infrastructure of poor countries like Yemen and Pakistan unconditionally and affect positive change indirectly. Infrastructure allows business to flourish, which in turn leads to a larger middle class. The middle class has the education, leisure time, and financial resources necessary to take part in reform movements. However, years of lobbying a congressman might convince him that a progressive, comprehensive strategy of economic aid to Middle Eastern countries is in our national interest, but the last time the U.S. government showed that much foresight was six decades ago and in Europe. There will be no Marshall Plan for the Middle East anytime soon.

That said, letter-writing campaigns can be effective. Amnesty International and similar organizations have successfully used that method to pressure regimes to release prisoners of conscience and adopt more humane practices. In fact, Amnesty International has become so successful that it would be pointless for young people to set up a parallel organization. We would have to amass significant financial and human resources to be able to investigate claims of abuse and design statements demanding change – and all to reinvent the wheel. Young people can and should join chapters of Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch, but people have been employing those methods for years. It’s time to employ a strategy that plays to the strengths of a new generation.

The youth of America have several strengths: technological skill, free time, and personal knowledge of the benefits of equality. Those qualities make us ideal communicators because we can reach people through the Internet and teach them about egalitarian principles even when their governments censor other media. Of course, governments have blocked websites in the past, but the web is still the most difficult media to control. Activists have already made use of the Internet; there are thousands of sites explaining the principles of human rights and reporting on human rights abuses. The trouble is that their message only reaches people who actively search for it.

Georgia Sadler of San Diego had much the same problem a few years ago. As Malcolm Gladwell explained in The Tipping Point, Sadler organized meeting after meeting at local churches to raise awareness about breast cancer, but she found that only people that were already concerned came to the meeting; the truly ignorant, the people who most needed to be informed, did not see the need to stay late after church to learn about yet another health crisis. Georgia needed to find a captive and receptive audience, and she found them at the beauty parlor. Black women spend hours shooting the breeze with their hairdressers while they have their hair braided. So, Sadler “gathered a group of stylists from the city for a series of training sessions. She brought in a folklorist to help coach the stylists in how to present their information about breast cancer in a compelling manner.”  She employed the help of a pre-existing group of trusted and social people and her plan caused meaningful change in the welfare of her community.

We can use the same tactics in our campaign to educate Middle Eastern women about their rights. Beauticians in the Middle East make ideal messengers for many reasons. They are natural communicators; they meet with women in the middle and upper classes, who are more likely to have the resources to affect change; they have careers and thus are predisposed to not give credence to some of the more archaic rules of Shari’a. A concerted effort to educate the beauticians of a Middle Eastern country could spark a broad change in belief.

We can reach the beauticians through sympathetic members of the Islamic community in the United States as well as activists in the Middle East. Failing that, a series of advertisements promising free beauty products to the visitors of a website about women’s health issues could be placed in local trade magazines. The visitors would get their promised products after watching a short film (2-3 minutes) produced by American students about women’s health issues as they relate to discrimination under the law- spousal abuse, impeded medical care for modesty’s sake, etc. After the first video ended, the viewer would be invited to watch more videos about related human rights topics, such as fair inheritance and divorce laws. Each segment would include interesting anecdotes humanizing women who had fallen ill of specific laws and highlighting the fact that devout Muslim women in Western countries do not suffer the same abuses and discrimination. The website would also include specific information abut organization strategies and links to other human rights organizations. Even if only a few women deigned to investigate further after the first video, they would be capable of spreading the information far and wide through their client base.

The beauty of this plan is that it works on every scale. I am capable of contacting all the beauticians in a given city and talking to them about women’s rights. I could make a website and short film on my personal computer. I could hold a bake sale and raise enough money to buy fifty new pairs of scissors. Of course, the more Americans I can convince to replicate my actions in other Middle Eastern cities, the more women become empowered, but I can reach a significant population by myself because I am educating proxies in the Middle East to distribute the message widely in a much more personal and convincing way than I ever could.

Naturally, after a few months, organizers would have to judge if this particular method of communicating had proved effective and tweak it accordingly; perhaps we would need to target some other profession, or change the presentation of our message, or provide more specific information in one area or another.

Whatever tactical flaws exist in the specific plan of educating beauticians, the strategy of concentrating our resources on a small, but vocal and trusted group of people would allow the youth of America to reach a large group of Middle Eastern women without spending the kind of money it would take to reach every woman directly. It is the best way to utilize our limited resources to educate women about their rights and how they can secure them.

Building a Movement to Empower Civil Rights Activists Abroad
Yaman Salahi, California, Age 19

Against the ironic backdrop of a big campaign for a hip-hop star arrested in the UAE, the author outlines his own project to assist civil rights reformers.

In May 2006, an R&B producer named Dallas Austin was arrested at an airport in Dubai for attempting to smuggle in small amounts of cocaine, most likely for use at the birthday party of Naomi Campbell. Austin was sentenced to four years in a Dubai prison, a sentence which was commuted and followed by his deportation back to the United States.

What happened? Numerous American celebrities mobilized themselves and their legal teams to secure his release, even lobbying Senator Orrin Hatch, a Republican from Utah, who in turn contacted Dubai’s ambassador in Washington. Shortly thereafter, Austin was pardoned by Sheikh Mohammed bin Rashid al Maktoum, the Prime Minister and Vice President of the United Arab Emirates.

The United States government, like all governments, has a responsibility to look out for the welfare of its citizens abroad, especially when they are in danger of falling prey to the brutal prison systems of the Middle East. However, the shameful amount of influence exerted by celebrities and our Congress to secure the release of a drug smuggler is baffling, disappointing, and reveals a serious shortcoming in moral priorities.

At this same time, ordinary citizens without fancy Hollywood connections are being persecuted daily. Dr Kamal al-Labwani, a human rights activist in Syria, was arrested at Damascus airport simply for visiting human rights organizations and government officials in Europe and the US. A number of prominent intellectuals, including popular writer Michel Kilo, were arrested for signing the “Damascus Declaration,” a renewed call for President Assad to use his inherited power to implement democratic reform and restore friendly relations with Lebanon. Another man, Muhammad Ghanem, was arrested for running a website that “insulted the President.”

In Egypt, two journalists were issued one year prison sentences in June 2006 for defaming the President’s character. In Saudi Arabia, the infamous religious police raided a private residence to arrest four Africans who were violating the law—by conducting Christian prayer services, apparently a crime. Just one month prior to that event, a Catholic pastor was deported for leading Easter services with an assembly of faithful congregates. In Turkey, it is illegal to wear a veil over your hair in public. Last April in Iran, two teenagers were arrested for kissing in public. An astute Jordanian cartoonist aptly referred to Yemen's recent elections as an example of "demo-qat-iyyah" to emphasize their disingenuous nature.

Enough. Or, as demonstrators in Egypt chanted during democracy protests calling for an end to Hosni Mubarak's now 26 year old emergency law in February of 2005, Kifayah.

This is daily life in the Middle East for homegrown civil rights activists. There are domestic movements in every country in the region fighting for the liberties we often take for granted: freedom of speech, freedom of religion, freedom of the press, and freedom to assemble. At a time when the US claims to espouse democratic ideals throughout the region, would it not have been more fitting for Senator Hatch and other government personnel to have called for the release of these political dissidents, rather than a man who, had he been found in an American airport, would have been jailed and arrested on legitimate drug charges?

Is it not shameful that our own government mobilized over a hundred thousand troops in Iraq, losing the lives of nearly 3,000 and causing injury to six times as many not to mention the tens of thousands of Iraqi casualties, to topple a dictator, but when it came to something as simple as calling a few foreign friends or taking a firm public stand, our efforts went to a celebrity drug user, and not to the noble civil rights activists abroad that continue to languish in torture chambers?

Just six months ago, seven of Egypt’s most prominent independent newspapers refused to go to press to boycott government censorship and intimidation of journalists. In this and the many movements that are sure to follow in the coming months and years, let Americans and their government publicly stand by those civilian activists who will suffer while fighting the good fight in the face of near impossible odds. If we as individual citizens fail to empower or assist the indigenous civil rights movements abroad by all ethical, available, and non-violent means, then we have by no means done everything possible to cleanse our hands of the blood that our erstwhile partners have spilt. As Edmund Burke wrote, willful ignorance and pliable inaction are enough to ensure that evil triumph--not supporting oppression is not the same as fighting it.

Will our Congressional representatives offer us a reassurance of their foreign policy priorities, at the very least?

Numerous international human rights groups like Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch already orchestrate campaigns which encourage people from around the world to pressure foreign governments to abide by widely recognized values as elaborated by the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. This strategy has worked on numerous occasions in the past, but it has not been enough, especially in the Middle East. Considering the influence that our own Congresspersons have been shown to have on foreign officials, the time has come to mobilize ourselves by letting our representatives know that we will hold them publicly to high moral standards: when they interact with foreign officials, we expect them to speak for the oppressed and downtrodden rather than celebrities and other elites.

In this spirit and based on the successes of online ventures like MoveOn.org, I am in the process of starting a virtual movement that utilizes modern technologies to increase connectivity between Americans and their leaders on behalf of those struggling abroad to reclaim their rights on the ground. The Alliance for Essential Liberties in the Middle East's website, AELME.org, will be a comprehensive database of information regarding civil rights violations in the Middle East. It will also be an easy way for individuals to pressure their elected local and national representatives to contact abusive governments via diplomats stationed in Washington, D.C. on behalf of civil rights activists and other political prisoners abroad.

The necessity for such a movement is two-fold. First, it places part of the blame for flagrant human rights abuses abroad on the shoulders of our own leaders who do not do enough to oppose it. Many of these leaders enthusiastically condemn such abuses but will not take further, substantive steps to address the problems. Instead of allowing them to deflect our ire to the perpetrators abroad while they court those same people in their offices or at exorbitant luncheons in Washington, we must, as their constituents, hold  them to their proclaimed ideals. If this attentive scrutiny already existed, would it have been possible for public figures in America to condemn the brutal tyranny of Saddam Hussein while allowing the book burners of Egypt and Saudi Arabia to continue acting with impunity?

Second, if successful, AELME.org will not only protect the rights of our peers abroad, but will weaken political machines that have perfected the art of squashing dissent and thus enable movements there to mobilize their bold supporters more freely and to have a more effective role in shaping the future of their own countries. This approach does not impose Western systems on other societies: it allows innovators and reformers there to act of their own volition in the name of justice and liberty for all by attempting to break the current monopolies that governments hold on political, artistic, and intellectual expression. Though military adventurism has been shown to be unsuccessful in this regard (that is, in protecting and promoting essential liberties), honest diplomatic pressure can be more successful in its long-term results.

This strategy is unique because it does not only condemn existing regimes--an art that many have mastered and employed in bad faith--but promotes the empowerment of grassroots movements that already exist. While dictators and their regimes come and go, these movements are here to stay. In this way, we free that struggle from the linguistic confines of a rising attitude that reform abroad is synonymous with military entanglement. The two are not the same, and the latter has often subverted the former.

The point of AELME.org is that, regardless of what foreign policy our government adopts, we as individuals can continue to work in the name of freedom and justice by promoting rights activists abroad even before policies are formally changed. The inertia of the legislative process and all its trappings should not bog us down, too. After all, it does not take a congressional resolution or executive order to put diplomatic pressure on other governments. As the case of Dallas Austin shows us, sometimes all it takes is a single phone call by one senator.

Now, let's make sure that the next time, the senator picks up the phone for the right reasons.

A Message From Afar: We Are All Human
Maya Ziv, California, Age 17

The essay presents a creative role reversal, addressing the misgivings of would-be activists and providing tangible examples of legal misogyny.

To Whom It May Concern:

I am a woman living in Saudi Arabia. This is all you need to know. In this case, my name is inconsequential. Where I live, I am a sinner simply because of my birth-given sex.

You may have heard that there have been recent developments in my country concerning women’s rights. I am writing to tell you this is not as true as it may seem. Until recently, I could not even attain my own card of identification without permission from my wakeel, a man who I am supposed to use to represent me. Countless Saudi women are quite intelligent, educated, and aware of worldly events, yet are banned from voting. I am not even allowed to drive or visit my local library!

Yet my main concern comes not in my legal rights, yet a problem I encounter every day. I am a businesswoman and every morning, I deal with the difficulties of having to enter a segregated office. Seeing the divisions kill me inside daily. What makes men so different from women that we must not even fully interact in the workplace? The courts and government departments do not assist or accommodate us women in order for us to manage such problems by ourselves. Though on paper, women have the same rights as men, we must often rely on a wakeel who may take any opportunity to exploit us. We are frustrated and are trying to make a change in our area, but we believe there is a place for you Americans to help us. God knows we don’t want to rely on the plethora of wakeels out there. Our friends in the Saudi Management Society have arranged for seminars and workshops on women’s rights in the public and private sectors throughout the year since it was established. Surprisingly, some women here aren’t even aware that their rights are at the roots of our problems! We believe women should be able to voice their complaints and reach a just resolution for our problems whether in the workplace or in our private lives.1

That is precisely why I am taking this time to write to you. You may be reading this letter, wondering what exactly I desire of you. I have seen the effect lobbyists for women’s rights have had in your country. Your ACLU states “‘Constitutional rights’ and ‘civil liberties’ may seem like abstract concepts but they have a profound impact on [your] daily lives.  They guarantee your freedom to express your opinion and your freedom to worship -- or not worship -- in the religion of your choice.  They ensure you won't be rejected from housing because of your gender or your race.  They help ensure you will have a fair trial and will not be excessively punished. These rights make [you] safer and more free.”2 Unfortunately, we do not have the luxury of an ACLU, and I am asking on behalf of every single woman in Saudi Arabia, whether she is poor or rich, light or dark, young or old, to speak for us!

If you are wondering what actions you can begin to take, I will gladly outline some ideas we have come up with. Change comes from the grassroots level; you must work in your community before attempting to deal with your government, state or federal. You can write opinion letters to your local paper or even your county representatives. Your views are even heard at the polls; I implore you to vote for those who believe in civil rights for all and who are dedicated to making a change for all human beings. Keeping informed and informing others is key as well. Though I am not sure if we can continue correspondence, there are many ways to access news and find out about events here.

There are an extensive number of civil rights groups for you to join and numerous activities, protests, demonstrations etc. for you to participate in. Even if there is no such program in your area, you can always start your own local discussion group or social awareness club. Remember to focus on all age groups, the voters and especially the youth, as they are the leaders of tomorrow. Finally, you can start your own website and reach even the international community and those outside your region. Eventually, you will make your representatives in government aware, and they will be able to financially, militarily, and politically pave the road to a brighter tomorrow for women in the Middle East.

Of course, there will be some who will accuse you of imperialism. Some might even lie and tell you us women accept this culture we are given. This is not true! All these statements are lies. We are asking for our salvation. Help us reach our goal. No longer do we desire to feel the oppression of the males in society. We desire an equal footing with those who view us as worthless. Personally, I dream of a time when I will be exempt from restrictions on dress. I will not have to question my opinions and shut my mouth every time I walk outside. I will not be beaten when trying to protest my oppression.
I have seen it happen. Your society has transgressed the time of racism and lacking civil rights to an era of peace with those that differ. All we women are asking for is the same.

Will you help us achieve this dream?

Sincerely,
A dear friend and fellow human

The Importance of Individual Rights
H. Sayyad Ali Pour, New Mexico, Age 23

A student studying in the US reflects back on experiences with repression in Iran while musing on the importance on individual rights.

One simple definition of “Individual rights” would be rights of individuals in furthering the common good of a society. This concept can be seen as one of the building blocks in any civil society.

Before answering the question on a personal level, I would like to aim at the heart of the matter by addressing three different possible scenarios to highlight the influence of “the awareness of individuals of their rights” and the role that “society” plays in securing these rights.

Broadly speaking, the first scenario which is most prevalent in the Middle Eastern countries, is a society where individual rights are not respected. Individuals in these societies lack awareness that their rights are being denigrated due to their misconception of beliefs, difficult access to the right education, social repression, and their final acceptance that this is the status quo and trying to fight it will only result in a negative outcome. 
 
This problem permeates the culture throughout years and further reinforces an individual sense of abandon.  How can we expect people to fight for their individual rights and freedom when either they are not aware of the concept of “individual rights,” or when they are aware, they are penalized for defending their rights?

The second scenario would be a similar society, with the difference that people are better equipped through education, modern techniques such as the internet, satellite TV or access to international radio broadcasts that provide updated news and different point of views.

Such information assists in the step by step broadening of people’s minds and enlightens them to what is beyond their world.  Unfortunately, in such societies, individuals suffer even more as they become aware of the insults to their rights and the subsequent possibility of never being able to fulfill their individual goals in life. I was born and grew up in Iran. I believe FEAR is the primary reason people hesitate or refuse to stand up for their rights.

I remember my brother being arrested by the police for “shaking hands” while saying goodbye to a girl who was our cousin’s daughter. For that crime, they were reared horrible insults, received 70 lashes, and were kept in individual cells for 2 days. Further, besides their fine an additional bribe had to be paid to the police so the officials would not force them to marry. At that time, he was 16 and she was 18 years old. They now both have a file in the national police department that will make their possible entrance to the University or finding a job in the future more difficult.
 
With this striking example I would like to express how harsh the punishment of the government is, and how it makes one afraid of even imagining the possibility of protesting against the regime itself or demanding any individual rights such as freedom of speech, religious freedom, freedom of the press, equal protection of law, etc.

The knowledge of “individual rights” is not enough. The government has created an environment where one is not allowed to choose anything such as what to wear, eat, drink, watch, listen, speak, read, etc.

When I was 16, I had the wonderful opportunity to visit other countries where there are reciprocal agreements to ensure that the rights of individuals continue to be respected and violations of individual rights are penalized. Comparing these facts with our own Iranian society I realized the painful truth on how our lives are literally being wasted. We live in a huge prison and we really do not know what is going on out of that cage where the idea of freedom is a utopia.

The final scenario would be one where people are not used to any individual rights and suddenly due to some drastic political changes in the country these common rights are handed to people. But since individuals are not ready for this transition they may not know how to handle such freedom. It is possible that in an attempt to secure their own rights, they abuse the rights of fellow citizens as the concept of “rights” in itself is so foreign to them.  In this case, this freedom cannot only be positive, but it can also be very damaging.

In conclusion, I believe that the first problem is the lack of knowledge of individuals. Addressing this requires providing information to people. This is a passive activity and can take years, but this effort is highly important as it will facilitate and increase individual flexibility and openness for new ideas and possibilities based on natural or inalienable rights of human beings.

Next, we need to focus on our governments.  They play an important role in hiding or manipulating knowledge, morals and education. Ultimately it is they who are responsible for enforcing the laws.

The answer to the question "why individual rights are important to me" goes back to natural rights and the rationale for human life. I believe individual rights are indispensable and essential for every human being on earth for fulfillment of their individual goals in life.  Otherwise it is quite impossible to utilize, progress and harvest our unique gifted qualities and contribute to our civil societies.

I like to conclude with an excerpt from of the United States Declaration of Independence:
“We hold these Truths to be self evident, that all Men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness — That to secure these Rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just Powers from the Consent of the Governed.