Regional and internal conflicts play an important part of daily life in Lebanon, making it easy to feel as if one lives in a kind of parallel universe. At one moment one feels as though Beirut represents the future of the world: a cosmopolitan crossroads in one of the most serene and bucolic environments. The people are well educated, genuinely friendly, and worldly. But at the same moment, one knows that political storm clouds are brewing and the scene could change instantly. The newspaper is filled with bombasitic rhetoric, suggesting the sectarian strife brewing within and beyond Lebanon.
There are many unresolved political matters facing Lebanon (I don't claim to have expertise here or to suggest that the most recent conflicts are somehow more important that those that go back to Lebanon's fraught creation). But two matters, Syria and the STL, seem especially prominent at the moment. First, and perhaps most important, is the regional conflict in Syria. Media outlets often dismissively refer to Lebanon as an appendage of Syria. Hence, Lebanon's decision to reject the Arab League's sanctions against Syria are seen as predictable. Last week, just a few blocks from the University, we ran into a pro-Syrian protest replete with Syrian and Hezbollah flags. It was a protest against the Arab League's initial decision to possibly sanction Syria. Many believe that the Arab League is a surrogate for Western powers.
Support for the Syrian government here can mean many things and it would be impossible to find one narrative to explain Lebanon or its stand vis a vis Syria. Support for Syria can mean support for the "security" Syria provides for Hezbollah. It can reflect Shia concerns about Sunni power in Syria. It can mean anti-colonial protest against any foreign intervention, including within the "opposition parties," which are already receiving support from Turkey and other Western governments. Similarly, advocacy for the downfall of the Syrian regime can also mean many things. It can mean support for Sunni hegemony. It can mean advocacy for Western-style neoliberalism in Syria. It can mean advocacy of pan-Arab self-determination. Lebanon is waiting to see what happens with Syria, while various sectarian groups within the country position themselves for what they predict will by the outcome of Syria's violence.
What's clear is just how unclear are the Arab rebellions, Springs, Uprisings, etc. As Emanuel Wallerstein recently argued in Al Jazeera English, the Arab uprisings, as well as rebellions globally, might be best seen as global rebellions similar to those of 1968. Hence, occupy wall street movements, protests across Europe against austerity measures, and the Arab rebellions may constitute a global wave of highly localized people-power against authoritarian regimes, whether those regime be an Arab dictator or the 1%. But even with this interpretation, local conditions shaping each rebellion may be most important for understanding events. Syria is not Tunisia. Oakland is not New York.
The second matter shaping political life in Lebanon concerns debate within the country over whether to fund the UN Special Tribunal for Lebanon. The STL is the UN established tribunal with a mission to prosecute the assassins of Lebanon's Rafik Hariri. Like the case of Syria, the STL means many different things to different groups in Lebanon. Supporting the UN's prosecution of Hariri's accused assassins means, for some, the realization that Lebanon participates in the conventions of international law. Advocating compliance with the STL can also constitute an attempt to deligitimize, even further, Hezbollah. For others the STL is a Western attempt at undermining Hezbollah, a plan hatched to benefit Israel, while leaving complely unexamined all sorts of assassinations in this region (by U.S. drones and Israeli soldiers, for example).
Syria, the STL, Arab rebellions and much more shape the student elections at AUB and other Lebanese higher ed. campuses. On the anniversary of Rafik Hariri's assassination, rival student groups representing March 14 (the pro-Western Hariri bloc) and March 8 (the Hizbullah bloc), fought at the Lebanese American University (just a few blocks from AUB). Last week I volunteered to serve as a faculty observer of AUB's student elections. The "parties" represented Lebanon's national and sectarian parties. It was a bit strange to see the famous (or notorious) names of Lebanon's sectarian leaders on our student roles (apparently the sectarian parties CAN agree that AUB is the best place for their kids' education). The outcome of the elections are still being determined, but for now, the March 14 party seems to have won a majority of seats at the student council (where they will discuss things like library hours and tuition). An important moment before the election occured when the Progressive Socialist Party bloc (the Druze) broke away from the March 8 (Hezbollah) block to run an independent slate.
Student elections may seem a bit pedestrian given the larger, and more influential, national and regional conflicts. However, AUB student elections are widely seen as a bellwether, of sorts, that often predict parliamentary elections. If the PSP bloc were to separate from Hezbollah at the national level, it stands to reason that that the March 8 coalition (which just recently won majorities in Parliament) could already be in electoral trouble. Once again the smallest minority party, the Druze, are the kingmakers between the March 8 and March 14 factions. Notable, I should mention, is that the non-sectarian, independent bloc also picked up significant numbers of student votes.
Despite the complex and overlapping narratives of sectarian, regional and politcal factions and conflict, one event seemed to overshadow all other events for the last two weeks. In a surprising upset, Lebanon's national football team defeated Asian powerhouse South Korea in the regional qualifying rounds of the Wold Cup. The minister of education had encouraged schools to close early so that kids could watch the match. Members of parliament attended the match. The match seemed to briefly transcend national politics and reporting about the match seemed to confirm that football was an important glue of national belonging. The minister of sports in Lebanon made a determined argument after the match that Lebanon ought to invest in national sports, because it was the only thing that could unite Lebanon's various factions.
The kids continue to do well at home and in school. Our youngest enjoys art and has recently taken to making all sorts of Lebanese flags (with different kinds of cedar trees represented). Both boys enjoy writing words in Arabic. Because of our recent trip to Istanbul, the boys have a new game in which they open a rug bazaar in their bedroom. They carefully roll-up and stack all of our blankets and pretend they are shop owners. When their room is prepared for the Bazaar they invite us in to shop. The game requires that the customer show interest in a rug and then ask, "how much for this"? The shop-owners then confer with each other and come up with an outlandish price, "6 Million Turkish Lira!" When we, as customers, roll our eyes and threaten to leave the oldest shop keeper says, "Well, for you, I have a special price." It's a very funny game and it's interesting that the hour we spend in one rug shop in Istanbul made such an impression.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Istanbul
AUB and the kids' school were closed for a few days due to the Eid al-Adha. We took the opportunity to travel to Istanbul which is about 1.5 hours by plane from Beirut. Our youngest son, still confused about the nature of our recent move to Beirut, asked if we were bringing all of our bags and if I had a job waiting for me in Istanbul.
Istanbul meets expectations; it is a large urban city with good public transportation, a skyline filled with immense, beautiful mosques, and museums packed with interesting history (and much of the material culture of Lebanon, which was looted by the Ottomans). It is a city of 20 million people and the only one in the world that sits on both the European and Asian continents.
We rented an apartment in the Sutanhamet neighborhood, the old part of the city. We stayed in the Roman section. Our living room window looked out onto the Blue Mosque. This meant we were awaken at 6 AM by multiple calls to prayer from neighborhood mosques. Our youngest son has taken to improvised singing whenever he hears the call to prayer. I'm sure this is haraam, but it's entertaining for his secular parents.
If, as a "blended" transracial family, we are a curiosity in Beirut, in Istanbul we felt like an exhibit. We got many long stares. People came up to us to ask if the kids are ours. In Turkish, we were told that the kids faces aren't the same color as ours; we know this because on many occasions the speaker pointed to our faces and then to the kids' faces. The "stranger who feels compelled to touch African hair"-index is very high in Istanbul (it's about a 9 in Istanbul, 6 in Beirut, and a 5 in Albuquerque). At the Blue Mosque I had to ask people not to photograph our kids. While sitting at a bench people would walk by and snap photos of our kids. On one occasion a man asked his daughter to pose in a photo with our kids (he didn't ask us) -- I rudely explained that this was not okay. I admit that I have handsome sons, but I think something else is at work here. I noticed an African American man in the crowd at the Blue Mosque was also the subject of photographs. Our nine-year-old joked that he should wear a shirt saying, "we are not an exhibit!" Istanbul is one of the few places where we all felt "different" as a family, even as many people were extremely kind and warm.
We learned quickly that much of the kindness we received, especially in Sutanhamet, was likely to be followed-up with, "why don't you come visit my rug store. . ." Shopping the "orient" consumes many travelers to Istanbul and shop owners have made into an art the selling of rugs, blankets, and tiles. It became annoying after two days to constantly question whether kindness was merely a sales pitch.
Our itinerary consisted of the following:
Day 1: The boys had been up late the previous night so we decided to do something that required little energy; we took the double-decker, hop-on/hop-off bus tour. At night we ate a small restaurant down the street from our apartment. I can say with confidence that Turkish food is not as good as Lebanese food.
Day 2: Public ferry tour of the Bosphorus. Three hour stop at mouth of Black Sea for hike to castle and fried mussels.
Day 3: Unfortunately the grand bazaar was closed during our trip because of the Eid. We did find many open shops and went for a long walk. We also visited the Blue Mosque, which was amazing, but, in the boys estimation, equal in beauty to the "new mosque" near the Galata bridge.
Day 4: The Galata Tower, Taksim square, the Basilica Cistern, dinner at a British pub (by far our best meal in Istanbul).
The dogs stayed in Beirut with a kind colleague and seem to be doing well -- which is to say that they slept the afternoon away on our sofa.
Our Istanbul photo album can be found at: https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.793836603037.2226783.11610611&type=1&l=663af72ec5.
Istanbul meets expectations; it is a large urban city with good public transportation, a skyline filled with immense, beautiful mosques, and museums packed with interesting history (and much of the material culture of Lebanon, which was looted by the Ottomans). It is a city of 20 million people and the only one in the world that sits on both the European and Asian continents.
We rented an apartment in the Sutanhamet neighborhood, the old part of the city. We stayed in the Roman section. Our living room window looked out onto the Blue Mosque. This meant we were awaken at 6 AM by multiple calls to prayer from neighborhood mosques. Our youngest son has taken to improvised singing whenever he hears the call to prayer. I'm sure this is haraam, but it's entertaining for his secular parents.
If, as a "blended" transracial family, we are a curiosity in Beirut, in Istanbul we felt like an exhibit. We got many long stares. People came up to us to ask if the kids are ours. In Turkish, we were told that the kids faces aren't the same color as ours; we know this because on many occasions the speaker pointed to our faces and then to the kids' faces. The "stranger who feels compelled to touch African hair"-index is very high in Istanbul (it's about a 9 in Istanbul, 6 in Beirut, and a 5 in Albuquerque). At the Blue Mosque I had to ask people not to photograph our kids. While sitting at a bench people would walk by and snap photos of our kids. On one occasion a man asked his daughter to pose in a photo with our kids (he didn't ask us) -- I rudely explained that this was not okay. I admit that I have handsome sons, but I think something else is at work here. I noticed an African American man in the crowd at the Blue Mosque was also the subject of photographs. Our nine-year-old joked that he should wear a shirt saying, "we are not an exhibit!" Istanbul is one of the few places where we all felt "different" as a family, even as many people were extremely kind and warm.
We learned quickly that much of the kindness we received, especially in Sutanhamet, was likely to be followed-up with, "why don't you come visit my rug store. . ." Shopping the "orient" consumes many travelers to Istanbul and shop owners have made into an art the selling of rugs, blankets, and tiles. It became annoying after two days to constantly question whether kindness was merely a sales pitch.
Our itinerary consisted of the following:
Day 1: The boys had been up late the previous night so we decided to do something that required little energy; we took the double-decker, hop-on/hop-off bus tour. At night we ate a small restaurant down the street from our apartment. I can say with confidence that Turkish food is not as good as Lebanese food.
Day 2: Public ferry tour of the Bosphorus. Three hour stop at mouth of Black Sea for hike to castle and fried mussels.
Day 3: Unfortunately the grand bazaar was closed during our trip because of the Eid. We did find many open shops and went for a long walk. We also visited the Blue Mosque, which was amazing, but, in the boys estimation, equal in beauty to the "new mosque" near the Galata bridge.
Day 4: The Galata Tower, Taksim square, the Basilica Cistern, dinner at a British pub (by far our best meal in Istanbul).
The dogs stayed in Beirut with a kind colleague and seem to be doing well -- which is to say that they slept the afternoon away on our sofa.
Our Istanbul photo album can be found at: https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.793836603037.2226783.11610611&type=1&l=663af72ec5.
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