Imagine that this wonderful wordsmith suggested three options to choose for this challenging task.

The first: to launch a pre-emptive strike on Israel.

The second: to attack Israel’s nuclear facilities.

Zionut Israel-fanatics like Adler want Obama killed and hate him because he hasn’t out-Bibied Netanyahu so far.

The third: to consider ordering a secret service hit team to assassinate US President Barack Obama, and those after, so that eventually one is left with a candidate who will defend the region against the threat of Israel.

Such a brilliant scheme, wouldn’t you say. Totally fool-proof.

Enter stage right, Mr. Andrew Adler, the (former) owner and publisher of the Atlanta Jewish Times, and his ingenious article calling for these three options.

His version, it must be noted, was for Israel to either launch a pre-emptive strike on Iran (a talent it has honed since 1947); or, to attack Iran’s nuclear facilities (akin to Israel’s bombing of Iraq’s Osirak Nuclear Research Facility in 1981 and beyond it’s current murder of a number of Iranian nuclear scientists), or to have Mossad assassinate Obama (cause he’s so gosh-darn anti-Israel).

All these exciting selections for the sake of the Zionist State’s  safety and security.

When the article spread virally, unsurprisingly condemnations and uproar followed and thus Adler exited left. Abrahman Foxman, the ever-dramatic National Director of the Anti-Defamation League, said it best:

Courageously, Adler denied that he advocated Obama’s assassination, given that he did write: “give the go-ahead for U.S.-based Mossad agents to take out a president deemed unfriendly to Israel in order for the current vice president to take his place and forcefully dictate that the United States’ policy includes its helping the Jewish state obliterate its enemies”.

Obama, as should be clear by now, has been consistently, persistently, and endlessly professing his undying love to Israel. The relationship we are told continually is “unbreakable”. The commitment is “iron-clad”. Don’t be surprised if he starts singing Is This Love during the obligatory AIPAC speech along the campaign trail. And yet, Zionut Israel-fanatics like Adler want Obama killed and hate him because he hasn’t out-Bibied Netanyahu so far.

Strikingly, the red line Adler dared to cross in the eyes of Foxman and others was not options one or two, where much destruction and death would devastate the entire region with millions hurt, displaced, or annihilated if any of these options were to occur.  Pure outrage was not directed to Adler’s support for Israel’s violation of international law, as it has historically and continues to do so; nor was the torrent of venom released against the horrifying idea of a secret service agency lurking around killing people. Only when an American president becomes the target, is such a point ‘beyond the pale’, a suggestion that has ‘no place in fiction’, and an idea that has ‘no rationalization’.

It’s clear in Adler’s apology that he wasn’t that concerned on back-tracking options one or two, since no one was really bothered by it.

For those in the non-American president category (and indeed those beyond in the non-white, non-American, brownish variety), the silence says it all. When people are not batting an eye lash about the idea of war by Israel or the US and its consequences on Iran, the region, and millions of innocent lives, the platform for it to happen is practically all laid out.

Alder writes at the end of his article:

“All options are on the table”

…Where have I heard that before?

So far, so good.

However, almost a year after the first ‘Arab Spring’ protests erupted in Yemen, the situation in the country is still fluid and unpredictable. In the past months Yemen has hit the headlines more for the al-Qaeda threat than the end of Saleh’s presidency.

It is quite clear that these are still uncertain times and that creating a vibrant Yemeni democracy will be a hard task. However, the success of the revolutionary movement in unseating Saleh cannot be understated.

Al-Qaeda is an interesting case and it is important to attempt to stay clear of simplistic narratives. Whilst it is clear that the group is taking advantage of the lawlessness in some parts of the country, there is no chance of them effectively taking over, they are far too small in number. Without entering the realm of the conspiracy theorist, it is also necessary to be suspicious about the timing of AQAP’s takeover of towns, the manner in which the towns seem to be empty of government security forces, and the various prison-breakouts. To put it simply, AQAP is very handy for a desperate Saleh regime looking to persuade Western governments that it’s them or the terrorists.

Now what of Saleh himself? He has, as of yet, not fled into exile (he is due to return after medical treatment in Oman and the USA) like Ben Ali, he is not in a prison cell like Mubarak, and he’s very much alive, despite his injuries from a bomb blast in June, unlike Gaddafi.

Saleh has often been described as wily, an apt word to use. The GCC initiative gives immunity to those who committed crimes during the months of protest, and Saleh has recently pointed out that there is a “misunderstanding” concerning the immunity law, and that he has no need to benefit from it. He said that the youth revolution was “hijacked” and that those who defected from the ruling party were “corrupt”. Clearly these are the words of a man who still believes that he has a powerbase, and they are not particularly conciliatory.

Saleh was absent from the country for three months over the summer, the only difference is that this time he has no presidency to return to. Instead he plans to head his party, the General People’s Congress [GPC]. The GPC has strong patronage networks and could still attempt to gerrymander future elections. His son, Ahmed Ali, still heads the elite Revolutionary Guards, and has presidential ambitions himself.

So it is quite clear that these are still uncertain times and that creating a vibrant Yemeni democracy will be a hard task. However, the success of the revolutionary movement in unseating Saleh cannot be understated, and they will feel strong enough to resist counter-revolutionary moves from the old regime. The youth movement features the best and brightest that Yemen has to offer, and is the great hope of the country. Their potential will need to be fulfilled fast for their dream of a democratic, prosperous, united and peaceful Yemen to become a reality.

Kuwait is a country that adores the status quorum: stability at the expense of improvement, while everybody’s still rich, and yes, we all do have oil fields in our backyards. During the 90’s and most of the 00’s, this was reflected in much of the art coming out of the country. Despite a rich history of cultural and social criticism in the arts, Kuwaiti art experienced a fissure during the 80’s which further expanded following the Iraqi invasion, a time when patriotism became mandatory and where unity and identity were built on trauma and indignation.  Since, Kuwaitis have been expected to consistently tow the party line, embracing a stringent consumerism as the way of life in order to emphasize that we ARE okay. This precipitated a cultural xenophobia that is historically inaccurate to preserve this supposed ‘ideal’ Kuwait, where traditionalism and national identity clashed with unchecked consumerism to create a truly contradictory state.

While neighboring struggles for revolution may have not brought a full-scale revolt to Kuwait, they’ve brought the next best thing – a rapidly expanding conscientiousness.

While neighboring struggles for revolution may have not brought a full-scale revolt to Kuwait, they’ve brought the next best thing – a rapidly expanding conscientiousness. Contemporary and conceptual art has become a ‘scene’ in the country attacking, with the tools of postmodernism (pastiche and irony) the forgotten, ignored and whitewashed spaces of discourse such as cultural heritage, gender identity, and consumerism.

Intentions aside, the art becomes redundant and fails to be politically potent. Much of it participates in the same manner of spectacle that it is commenting/critiquing on, relying primarily on methods of cultural substitution to achieve its message. The recipe is simple: take a product, glam it up to the extreme, make sure the script is in Arabic or for more irony, in broken English, rinse, repeat.

The motifs are always present: designer patterns, matchboxes, Pepsi, and a LOT of veils, usually in conjunction with each other. This, while occasionally funny, sometimes pretty, sometimes poignant and always interesting, eschews narrative on principle to an extreme that doesn’t allow for contextualization. The art becomes too obvious, and does not inaugurate an opportunity to question, for the artist has already provided all the answers.

The disappearance of narrative also takes with it the most recognizable and immediate of Arab art forms: storytelling. This dislocates the art from the society at large, gives it elements of ‘faddishness’ and ‘foreignness’, and makes it fail to achieve the cultural relevancy that it needs in order to communicate to a societal circle that is larger than the Western educated crew of Kuwaitis who tend to frequent the galleries that are popping up all over the country…

And then Bu Tilli comes along with his wrinkly dishdasha and broken dreams. Over the course of three minutes and 21 seconds, Bu Tilli walks the viewer through a typically uneventful day in his life. He drives around a bit, and then goes home to watch some TV. He heads to a Starbucks to have a Frappuccino, after which he goes home and tries to sleep. The titular Bu Tilli narrates the day. Apathetic and bored, Bu Tilli is a pastiche of modern Kuwaiti youth who cannot break the rhythm of his day, and subsequently cannot take control of his life.

Turn on him, Turn on him

In the first scene, Bu Tilli, in what we can sanely assume is an inner monologue, complements himself on his driving, calling himself the ‘best driver on the face of the Earth,’ after he aggressively overtakes a fellow driver. He is reflecting a distinct Kuwaiti preoccupation with driving as a space of control and independence. For a bit of context, driving in Kuwait is an excruciatingly dangerous affair. When I first received my license, my grandfather told me to assume that ‘everyone other than you is a crazy person,’ on the road, but this is at the best of times. At the worst, everyone is a predator, desperate to prove their power by overtaking, speeding and ‘betweening’ (the act of recklessly darting between cars in different lanes in order to not have to wait for the person in front of you to drive at their own pace). Bu Tilli participates in this aggressive form of driving, and uses it to assert his identity very early on, thereby earning himself, and the clip, a Kuwaiti identity. His dissatisfaction stems from a slighted nature, wherein he is not acknowledged as a driving god by ‘his job, his family, his friends.’

What have I gained, personally?

When Bu Tilli returns home and switches on the TV, images of white-clad men duking it out for supremacy accost him. Bu Tilli is clearly upset, as the people fighting are the Kuwaiti parliament, a body that is widely viewed as ineffectual and corrupt. He is unhappy not because the parliament is a laughingstock, but because he can’t see any way that they have helped him. “Till when will we remain silent?” asks Bu Tilli, which is as close as he will come to realizing that the problem isn’t the parliament, but with Kuwaiti silence and the distinct voyeurism that stems out of stasis. Instead of attempting to do anything other than think about this, Bu Tilli goes to Starbucks.

The Frappucino as signifier of impotence

Bu Tilli goes to Starbucks for a Frappucino, the national drink of Kuwait. The sickly sweet concoction of coffee, caramel, and cream doesn’t do much for Bu Tilli, for his dissatisfaction have reached epic proportions. “Your taste becomes rotten after a couple of sips,” thinks Bu Tilli at his Frappucino. For Kuwaitis, consumption (particularly of foreign imports) is therapy, and considering diabetes rates in the country, may not leave us standing for long. Bu Tilli’s dissatisfaction with the Frappucino is a pivotal ideological break with his society, as he admits that what he’s drinking is actually disgusting.

Starbucks in Kuwait has also become the space to “fix it” i.e. find a lover. In a society with no communal social environments outside of malls and restaurants, where arranged marriages are still generally the norm, and where universities are segregated based on sex, the need for a place where young people can interact becomes imperative, but the spaces which have arisen to fill this void are generally not conducive to actual interaction.  This is due to the voyeuristic gaze of those also present, who become ‘informers’ against those who act outside of the cultural norm. When Bu Tilli sees a girl he has ‘scoped out’ at the café, he asks “How do I speak to her? Do I just follow her to her car? I don’t know how to do that.” His lack of inter-sex socialization turns Bu Tilli, again, into a static voyeur, one who cannot take action, and who jumps from seeing a girl that he finds attractive to wondering if she could “‘love him for who [he is], in spite [his] looks.” His silence is reinforced, and this is reflected in the narrative by the fact that Bu Tilli never speaks to another soul during the short.

Hunger as disease

Lying in his bed, Bu Tilli is unable to sleep, and is hungry but doesn’t know why. He recalls a previous experience similar to this from his childhood where he wakes up hungry, sleeping in between his parents. He tells his mother that he is hungry, and she utters the Kuwaiti equivalent of ‘shut up.’ The untranslatable nature of this utterance, which when literalized translates into ‘eat hay’ in Arabic, is apt for Bu Tilli because he’s a goat. This pun situates the piece as strictly Kuwaiti, the phrase being a common one in Kuwait, especially by parents who don’t want to tell their children to ‘eat shit’ (the other equivalent of ‘shut up’ in the dialect’) and is almost non-existent outside of the Gulf.

It’s a unique and rich signifier for Kuwaitiness, and is reflective of a space where hunger for anything other than what you are given is viewed as childishness, and a refusal to ‘eat’ what is ‘on the table’ a heresy of thanklessness. This infantilization of Bu Tilli is the culmination of his anti-journey. He starts off trying to be a man, but ends up back in his parents’ bed.

Can you score?

Bu Tilli is a departure from most contemporary Kuwaiti art in its ability to perform effective commentary, but mask it behind a comedy that plays upon what we know of the place. This tendency towards a socially relevant comedy is a historical aspect of Kuwaiti art (specifically in Kuwaiti theater of the ‘golden age’). The artistic innovation of the piece is its penchant for absurdity. In the shot above, we have a very typical Kuwaiti hallway, leading to Bu Tilli’s bedroom. We see the itty-bitty basket, hanging on the wall and the implied image of Bu Tilli standing under it, trying to score (and probably failing) makes me laugh forever on the inside. We laugh at Bu Tilli because a) he is a goat going around the affairs of a Kuwaiti youth, and b) because his introspection is humorous to an audience that is not used to seeing representations of such aimless introspection. The juxtaposition of these two signifiers creates an incongruity that is impossible to ignore, and has one chuckling throughout the clip.

There is also the matter of the formality of the video, which intermingles images of Kuwait with close-ups of Bu Tilli, close-ups that change angles and perspective but maintain their focus on the protagonist. This generates a link for the viewer between Kuwait the place and Bu Tilli’s monologue, at times giving us the impression that Bu Tilli is merely a cypher for the subconscious of a nation. That the art is released from the confines of the gallery and stage, and into the democratic space of Youtube, allows for the piece to speak for itself, without explanatory captions, and more importantly, without a price tag. This is perhaps the biggest accomplishment of the anonymous auteurs behind the clip, and a powerful indictment of Kuwaiti consumerism.

Now let’s hope for a second episode.

Illustration by Nabil Hanna for KABOBfest

From Kumar’s website:

A Kashmiri poet has said of the Indian occupation of Kashmir, “they make a desolation and call it peace.”

Once the epitome of a syncretic, mystical, docile people known better for their unique culture and heritage of arts and craft; a crucible of Buddhism, Hinduism and Sufi-Islam; for verdant forests, jewel like valleys nestled in golden tipped snow-capped peaks, generous hospitality and guileless, beautiful people, the dark cloud of terror enveloped the Kashmir valley overnight.

A village woman recalls “we had not heard of ‘gun’, what was it? For us ‘gun’ meant this” she said, pointing to a roof-beam. “Who knew anything those days?” This film is the story of contemporary Kashmir. A series of counterpointed testimonies, the heartbreaking coming-of-age of ordinary people; warped and brutalized by two decades of militancy and its terrible response.

A sense of what it is like to be living terror.

Army, crackdowns, curfews, half-widows, rape, enforced disappearances, fake- encounters, mass graves, sadistic torture and trauma are ingrained in the vocabulary of Kashmir. Twenty years of incessant exposure to these atrocities has altered the average Kashmiri’s perception of ‘normalcy’. Military and paradise, bullet proof jackets and burkha; altered physical spaces where breathtaking vistas of mountains and crystal lakes are projected through barbed wire. Darkened army bunkers through which the alert eyes of battle-ready soldiers watch over not an enemy or a border but school children, women going shopping, men delivering goods : the humdrum life of a village. Yet no one is of the illusion that beneath the humdrum of daily ritual there is the possibility, nay certainty, of yet another militant attack, blood, limbs and sulfur, followed by reprisals by the armed forces. Such is the state of ‘normalcy’ into which children are born and raised. A cycle institutionalized and ritualized with cold precision since the advent of militancy in 1991, deeply ingrained in psyche of the Kashmiri.

Culled from the footage filmed while researching and making ‘Inshallah, football’ this film is the result of rare, unmediated access, travelling widely in the valley and into the mind of the Kashmiri. ‘Inshallah, Kashmir: Living Terror’ answers comprehensively the question, often asked in exasperation by those who live in the rest-of-India, ‘what the hell is it that the Kashmiris want?’

[tarboush tip: hashim]

Illustration by Nabil Hanna for KABOBfest

Sunni-Shia unity in Bahrain

‘Tunisia, Egypt, Libya, Syria, Yemen…’

or ‘Tunisia, Egypt, Bahrain, Libya, Yemen…’

The geniuses amongst you will notice that Syria and Bahrain are included in one list, while excluded in the other. The unfortunate truth of the matter is, when speaking to many Arabs about the Arab Revolutions, they will often either exclude Syria or Bahrain.

Why? More often than not, sectarianism.

We have all heard it before; “The Bahrainis aren’t democrats! It’s just the Shia protesting so that they can take over the country and turn it into Iran!”

Or, you have it the other way around; “Syria isn’t a revolution! It’s just Saudi backed Salafis who want to kill all the Alawis and Christians!”

Those who peddle in sectarianism are often the worst hypocrites. Whilst railing against Saudi oppression on the Shia of Qatif or Bahrain, they will repeat similar sectarian narratives against protesters in Syria. And vice versa.

What is most tragic is that the people whose  lives are on the line in both countries do reject these claims and recognize that their struggle against dictatorship and tyranny is a universal fight. Within the Syrian refugee camps of Turkey the refugees were adamant that their revolution was not sectarian. The people of ‘Sunni’ Jisr al-Shughour said that the Alawis were their brothers and many were just as oppressed as any Sunni. In Yemen, I witnessed many protesters carrying the flags of both Bahrain and Syria, supporting both in their uprisings.

And yet some continue to be blinded by their prejudices.

Looking across the  so-called “Arab World”, it’s easy to see sectarianism rearing its ugly head again. As soon as the Americans ‘withdrew’ from Iraq late last year, the Iraqi coalition government set about dividing itself on largely sectarian lines. ‘Sunni’ Vice-President Tariq al-Hashemi was accused of being behind bomb attacks, he responded by fleeing to Kurdish northern Iraq, and painted himself as a martyr in the face of Nouri al-Maliki, a ‘Shia’ who many see as Iran’s puppet. Worse followed, with the apparent al-Qaeda attacks on the 22nd December that killed 69 people.

It should be remembered that  al-Qaeda attacks in Iraq target both Shia and Sunni. A particularly inspiring story was that of two Sunni soldiers, Lieutenant Nazham Faleh and Private Ali Ahmed Sabah, who gave their lives protecting a crowd of Shia pilgrims from a suicide bomber. And when al-Qaeda in Iraq was at its strongest, it was the Sunni Awakening Councils that really brought it down.

This idea that because we belong to different sects or religions, and thus we must enter into perpetual conflict is completely wrong. Sectarian hatred of the other is not an inherent, primordial part of Arab society. Sure, in times of strife and war the chances of intercommunal violence can unfortunately increase, but this need not be the norm.

A person is not sectarian merely by being part of a certain sect nor is the existence of different sects in a society inherently a bad thing. Quite the opposite, when there is peace in such a society, it shows a society at its zenith, one where all opinions are accepted, allowed and flourish together. No doubt, sectarianism in its negative sense, during times of war, has led to some of the worst atrocities in modern Arab history.

Those who peddle in sectarianism are often the worst hypocrites. Whilst railing against Saudi oppression on the Shia of Qatif or Bahrain, they will repeat similar sectarian narratives against protesters in Syria. And vice versa.

As I have said, and despite it being the widely held opinion, sectarianism is not the historical norm. The medieval Arab world did not witness the massacres of ‘heretics’ that Europe committed. This was because the concept simply did not gain much attention. There was no Pope, no central authority to direct and fan such flames. The ‘Mihna‘ of the 9th century, where the Caliph attempted to get scholars to agree to a statement of be considered heretics, failed and banished the widespread use of the term, and its associate takfir, until the 18th-19th century.

Unfortunately, the emergence of certain groups in that period brought forward the concept of takfir, and we are saddled with the consequences today.

But let’s not pretend that the causes are only internal. It is no coincidence that sectarianism emerged stronger with the concept of the nation-state. The colonial powers that directly established artificial states like Lebanon and Iraq employed old tricks like divide-and-rule (tricks that continue to this day – see post-war Iraqi Governing Council). The mentality of many of these colonialists can really be summed up in the words of a Jesuit missionary, Riccadonna, in 19th century Mount Lebanon, who disparaged the neighbourliness between Christian and Muslim villagers:

And that, to Mr. Riccadonna, was a bad thing.

It need not be this way. Sectarianism, the kind that is one of the many obstacles against an Arab nation from uniting and advancing, is a cancer that must be fought. And if you are one of the hypocrites that disagree with the freedom of others because of their sects, then shame on you.

The jokes may be South Asian but Humza’s troubles are relevant to many, if not most, from traditional or Muslim backgrounds. The moral message to each episode is made a little less patronizing by a liberal sprinkling of humor which hits home more often than not. So if you’ve ever had to deal with unusual parenting (‘Mum left me in Tescos at the age of two. And she gave me the finger  too’), or had trouble getting to know members of the opposite sex (‘Yeah kuthi [bitch], you kinda buff you know, put your number on my phone, no long ting’), catch the first episode here.

Illustration by John Cox via www.coxandforkum.com/

I don’t think I will ever forget 2006.

It was the year in which Hezbollah, and other courageous Lebanese fighters, survived and resisted a brutal Israeli attack on Lebanon. After 34 days, the idea, which entrenched itself since 1967, that Israel has a formidable and unbeatable army shattered. Hezbollah’s ‘victory’  encouraged many to look at Israel in a different light, one that illuminates the country as weak, incompetent, panicky and can be defeated.

The importance of this event on the collective consciousness and confidence of the Arab public should never be underestimated.

The experience with Israel and the trauma of Western colonialism and imperialism will always be a matter of great concern for the region’s public. It will remain as long as Europe and the United States continue to support the Zionist State and to still not acknowledge/apologize/compensate for their past and present crimes in the region. It will linger as long as these powerful states persevere in supporting dictators and meddle in the political, economic, and social affairs of the region.  Really, how could it not?

This concern has been one of the issues at the forefront of the debates and discussion on the Intifadas of 2011, particularly with on-going Syrian intifada – one that has fiercely polarized opinions.

The regime has cloaked itself under the mantra of resistance to justify its own brutal repression against protesters. Hezbollah, certain leftists and Arab nationalists, and others have supported and propagated this justification for a variety of reasons – from political, to sectarian, and to legitimate concerns.

There is a legitimate and real fear for Syrians regarding Western intervention and meddling. This fear is based on actual historical and recent experiences, from colonial occupation, Western-backed coups, the systematic double-standards on many levels, and pressures by Europe and American for the Syrian government to fall-in-line in terms of geopolitics (something that the Assad regime does consider). To belittle or ignore this fear is a grave mistake on many who firmly stand against the regime and mock those who continue to support it under this logic.

Moreover, the seemingly uncompromising push by external opposition groups like the Syrian National Council aching for foreign intervention– despite the existence of important groups within Syria like the National Coordinating Committee who have remained firm against foreign intervention – only adds to these fears and bolsters the Assad regime’s position.

On the surface, the regime propagates this idea that it is a key pillar of the ‘rejectionist camp’, but in actuality has not helped or enhanced “resistance”. In fact, it has been incompetent and has ensured the status-quo.  This is a regime that has historically acted hand-in-hand with other regimes and the West against progressive forces throughout the region. This is a regime that has recently supported for the intervention by Gulf forces against Bahraini protesters and has signaled that its sustained existence is good for Israel.  These are only a few of the numerous examples that come to mind.

Hezbollah’s relations with Syria have not always been close. Throughout the 1980s, Hezbollah and Syria were bitter and bloody enemies, despite both having good relations with Iran. It was only in the 1990s, when a new political order was established post-Taif and Lebanon was carved up between Syria and Saudi Arabia, did Syria and Hezbollah develop deeper ties.

The regime has cloaked itself under the mantra of resistance to justify its own brutal repression against protesters. Hezbollah, certain leftists and Arab nationalists, and others have supported and propagated this justification for a variety of reasons – from political, to sectarian, and to legitimate concerns.

For Syria, the relations with Hezbollah was driven by need to have a buffer against Israel, occupying large parts of the southern areas, from entering Syria through Lebanon and allowed Syria to have more influence and control, with US consent, within the domestic Lebanese scene.  More importantly, Hezbollah, due to its mass appeal and its anti-imperialist, anti-Zionist, pro-resistance rhetoric, allowed Syria to reinforce its own resistance image by association where it linked the fate of the Golan with that of Southern Lebanon.

For Hezbollah, relations with Syria were encouraged by Iran and the need to adapt to the new power structures in place post-civil war environment of 1990s Lebanon.

In the first decade of the 21^st century, both parties benefited greatly from this relationship, forming a “rejectionist axis” with Iran against the so-called “moderate” states, who are aligned with the West and are compromising and have relations with Israel.

Obviously, this is a simplified description of the relationship and how it developed, but the key point to keep in mind is that politics, internally and regionally, is the defining factor that established and maintains this relationship. There may be some sectarian considerations, as people point to the similar religious ties between Hezbollah and the Alawis, who dominate Syria’s upper echelon. Yet, for me at least, this is a misconception when taking into account that the regime in Syria is controlled by a family and their close friends, who are not religious and who transcend sectarian lines.

Hezbollah and Hassan Nasrallah are currently standing firm with the Assad regime as the Syrian uprising churns along. During a speech in June of last year, Nasrallah, aware of the criticism to this position, said:

For Nasrallah and Hezbollah, the uprising in Syria and the possible end to the Assad regime will be a blow to “resistance” in the region. The language here is clearly concerned with the geo-political ramifications that a change in Syria’s government will have, more on the negative impact on the so-called “resistance axis”.

I do think this is a major blunder on Nasrallah’s part.

Nasrallah and Hezbollah, and even beyond (i.e. Leftists, and those who support “resistance” and “rejectionism”) seemed to have forgotten or are intentionally unaware that “resistance” is not exclusively owned or represented by one organization, one regime, one person. Resistance, in its bountiful forms, is empowered by the “masses” – the people who it’s supposed to be defending. In this case, it is the Syrian public that values and upholds resistance against Israel, Western imperialism, or other forces that seek to deny their right for self-determination. They, and their children, and their grandchildren, are the real support base as long as injustice continues.

Hypothetically, if the vile SNC does come into power and attempts to bring the country into the ‘Western fold’ and signs a peace deal

with Israel, they will be eaten alive – this is something that Iraq has shown.

There will always be resistance, whether individual or by organizations that bloom up in the face of injustice, occupation, and the denial of dignity. That is a common fact in history. Even the Syrian regime itself – although now virtually a family mafia – was a Ba’athist government which sought to protect and uphold Arabism and resistance in the face of imperialism and Zionism (at least that was the rhetoric in those days). Also, because of this inherent desire for resistance within the Syrian public psyche the Assad regime has to articulate and constantly represent itself publicly as a protector of resistance to sustain its legitimacy.  It is not the only source of legitimacy, but it is a big one.

There is another common occurrence in history as well: Resistance groups tend to fall into the trap of becoming the enemy they are fighting against. Many of us are well aware of post-colonial countries, governed by formerly resistance organizations that utilize colonial laws and violence in order to stay in power.

But the fact is: resistance against other forces does not validate brutality against one’s own. There can be no rationalization for cutting off electricity, water, food and health supplies to cities, towns, and villages that are rising up. There can be no excuse for the torture of men, women, and children. There can be no validation for the perseverance of fear, despair, and constant intimidation. I am not only taking about what has been happening these past 10-months, but what has been happening over the course of four decades.

It seems that Hassan Nasrallah and Hezbollah (and ironically their detractors) have forgotten the tides history. The Assad regime and Hezbollah’s close relationship with it has not existed from time immemorial and will not continue in the same form forever. There will come a day, even if this latest intifada fails, when the regime is gone or the relationship between the two changes.

Resistance is a means to an end, an end that is about dignity, self-determination, equality, and justice.  If an organization, a person, or a country fails in upholding these principles, especially in times of immense crisis and threat, then it has failed and has lost any right to speak about resistance.

The importance of resistance cannot be said enough, and its immense importance is why positions like Hezbollah has taken in terms of an uprising in Syria that desires dignity and liberty is so disheartening. The cause that Hezbollah says it fights for becomes tainted and damaged as it stands by government that is brutal against its own population. The denouncement against common Western hypocrisy and double-standards loses its vigor when Hezbollah’s acts are viewed as hypocritical too.

Politics and its usual realism have always trumped the wonderful ideals driving resistance.

I hope that one day that will not happen.

Last, I wanted to feel angry at him for callously saying that “it is not a problem taking out someone who wants your people dead. That’s not a problem at all.” The tribalism that runs through his words, I wonder if he will pause to think that it can also be labeled as a kind of savagery? I do not quite know how to react to this video. I have not read his book, and just to imagine reading it is making me uncomfortable.

Maybe, it is simply better to just say a prayer for peace to descend upon us all and remind oneself that, “there but for the grace of God go I…”