This morning as I browsed through the feed of the people I follow on Twitter, I was saddened to stumble across this: @monaeltahawy "got my 1st death threat. Someone angry at my Wash Post oped on Yale + Danish cartoons. His email has been passed onto the law enforcement."
Mona is a well known and respected writer and speaker on Arab and Muslim issues whose articles are published in English and Arabic all over the world. I particularly enjoy her direct and uncompromising arguments, especially on women's issues - whether you agree with her opinion or not it's refreshing to hear such refreshingly honest criticism.
The subject of her latest contribution, published in the Washington Post, was the debacle at Yale University Press after they decided that a book written about the controversy following the publication of those Danish cartoons in 2005 should, in fact, not contain the offending images. It is a well argued, nuanced piece that recognises the offensive nature of the images, but questions:
1) The timing of the anger across the Muslim world: "What occurred across many Muslim-majority countries in 2006 was a clear exercise in manufacturing outrage. Consider:
Jyllands-Posten published the cartoons in September 2005. The widespread protests in majority-Muslim countries that eventually left more than 200 dead did not start until about four months later. Indeed, when an Egyptian newspaper reprinted one cartoon in October 2005 to show readers how a Danish newspaper was portraying the prophet, no backlash was heard in Cairo or elsewhere."
2) The double standard of the outrage: "The cowardice shown by Yale Press recognizes none of the nuance that filled my conversations in Copenhagen nor discussions I had with Muslims in Qatar and Egypt during the controversy. Many told me they were dismayed at the double standards that stoked rage at these Danish cartoons yet did not question silence at anti-Semitic and racist cartoons in the region’s media."
and, principally:
3) The fact that Yale removing the images from a book highlighting them as Islamophobic and trying to promote serious academic discourse on the matter proves "what Flemming Rose said was his original intent in commissioning the cartoons — that artists were self-censoring out of fear of Muslim radicals?
Yale has sided with the various Muslim dictators and radical groups that used the cartoons to “prove” who could best “defend” Muhammad against the Danes and, by extension, burnish their Islamic credentials. Those same dictators and radicals who complained of the offence to the prophet’s memory were blind to the greater offense they committed in their disregard for human life. (Indeed, some of those protesters even held banners that said, “Behead those who offend the prophet.”)"
Regardless of whether you agree with her assessment, and I do, for Eltahawy to receive a death threat over the piece is nothing short of obscene. To make matters worse, Masrawy - a site I usually enjoy for its timely content on Egyptian affairs - published an article selectively translating sections of the original piece that seems only to serve as provocation for their readers to fill the comments section with yet more ugly threats (the only comment I read defending Eltahawy seems to have mysteriously disappeared).
Through-mixed with the poison of such threats, there is an odd irony, as the author herself recognises: @monaeltahawy "Someone angry at stereotyping of Muslims for being violent threatens to kill me = what? During Ramadan no less. Wow."
No further comment.
Actually two further comments, if anyone else wants to chip in I'll post your comments on this entry as and when!
2 comments:
Labels: blog, cartoons, madness, Mona Eltahawy, Twitter
The train from Alex to Cairo is usually a very pleasant affair. By far the best way to get between the two cities, the gas powered Turbine train can make the 208km journey in just under two and a half hours, whilst passengers in both first and second class enjoy wide reclining seats and powerful air conditioning. At 35 LE for second class and 50 LE for first class, the train provides an affordable, although not cheap, means for Cairenes to escape the furnace that is Cairo in August to the breezy, sweeping sea-front of Alexandria.
As I boarded yesterday's two o'clock - first class, "no space in second I'm afraid sir" - I was not greeted with the wall of dry, cool, conditioned air to which I have become accustomed on such trips, but rather by a stagnant, humid heat that on a hot day makes Alexandria intolerable in the summer. "We're working on fixing the AC," the guard assured me, before I nodded off with my first class seat fully reclined. Shortly before the train was due to leave, and as the carriage was filling up with travellers no doubt reluctant to be making the return trip to Cairo, I was awoken from my afternoon nap by angry shouts behind me. "So what have I paid 50 pounds for?..What do you mean it's only broken in this car?..Why can't I change my ticket?" An angry mob, led by three or more fifty-something women were unhappy about the air conditioning situation and were baying for blood. One brave husband ventured to suggest there was nothing this man could do about it, only for his wife to resume her volley of questions to the guard. After the guard retreated to find another poor soul to become the object of carriage #3's fury, I listened as they continued their complaints, fascinated by how, to this group of travellers, a simple technical failure became ever increasingly symbolic of a troubled Egypt.
The difference between first and second class on these trains, in practical terms, is tiny. 3 seats to a row rather than 4. For me, it's not worth the 15LE extra. For this group of ladies, however, the fact they had paid, and could afford the extra money was clearly important. For them, it was far more troubling that the lowly people riding second class had what they did not - working AC - than was the heat itself. As a resigned youth sitting beside me politely told the complainers that their efforts wouldn't change anything, that they'd sit down and the train would leave and the AC would still be broken, a uniformed police officer told them the same thing, ordering that the complaints stop, before he himself changed carriages.
As the train pulled into Sidi Gaber, a few opportunists followed the officer's lead and a new group of travellers boarded the train. They showed a more bemused, knowing acceptance on hearing the news - "typical in this country... this wouldn't happen in Jordan, Syria." Of the various words they used to describe the train, and Egypt, one stands out: ta'ban. Tired. Sick.
Continuing south, and with temperatures inside the carriage becoming unbearable, tempers flared as one man tries to make an official complaint to the guard. After minutes of shouting in a way the Arabic language seems perfect for, and with popular support mounting with shouts of "Aiwa! (Yes!)" the beleaguered guard stormed from the carriage, telling the man to make his complaint at the station.
Although exhausted by the end of the journey, I wandered along, bag in hand, to make a complaint to the appropriate official. But for all the talk, anger and frustration, not a single other passenger from carriage #3 was there to complain to the authorities. They were tired. Daunted by the infamous Egyptian bureaucracy, and wanting to get home, I left without making a complaint.
After spending a few quiet days outside Nuweiba on a beautiful sandy beach (Softbeach, last post), we decided that it was really getting a little too warm to be sleeping without AC and headed to Dahab - Sharm's slightly less tacky and quiter little sister an hour or so up the coast. Dahab is a wonderful little town. Yes it's touristy and yes some things are a little more expensive than they would be elsewhere in Egypt, but generally it's an excellent place to lie down next to the sea in an open air cafe and enjoy some good sea food and sheesha and not really do very much. So, for the last couple of days that is all we've done (along with a touch of obligatory snorkelling of course). Tonight I'm hoping to catch the Spurs match and then it's back on the road, and we have a 9 hour overnight bus ride back to Cairo to look forward to, followed by a Meedan shift and teaching at the Coptic Cathedral tomorrow. This last week has been just what the doctor ordered though, definitley worth the horrible bus rides.
For the first time since arriving in Egypt, I now have reliable access to wireless in my place of residence. Gone are the days of sharing a cable so worn that it has to be combined with a screwdriver to connect to my laptop. Andrea and I have, after much to-ing and fro-ing over the decision, moved to a new apartment. Charming as the old place was, the noise from the "samkaree" on the street below as he vainly pounded at already-battered old cars was starting to send us both slightly crazy, and after a minor brawl on the street outside we decided it was time to go. Thankfully the landlord, a true gentleman, was happy to return our deposit to us, allowing us to look for another place. A couple of days and a quick flat search later we moved into the new place, which is considerably larger, with WiFi and a washing machine for the same price. All in all a good deal I'm sure you'll agree. The flat itself is looking good, decorated with Egyptian movie posters (some classy, some not-so) I'm rushing a little at the moment so no pics as yet, but soon I promise.
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Hello Tom,
Interesting post. I do agree with the writer's criticism of the timing of the violent protests which saw the loss of so much human life. The irony in defending a man accused of violence, through violent means is beyond ridiculous. It is all down pretty much to the fact that we sway with the media, the more media coverage, the more the 'dominant' method of 'protest' becomes the only way of showing 'love' and 'support' - yes, it is wrong.
However, I do not think that Yale's decision to not print the cartoons themselves in the book has made them side with the violent extremists and other self-righteous and murderous groups. I think you have to see their decision to not print seperately from the other incidents. To me, it is not "cowardice" but it is a consideration and respect for man held in great esteem and regard by a large and substantial population of this planet, who DO find those cartoons offensive. Do you understand what I am trying to say? Why can't their decision be seen as an independent one? It is not to be compared with the anti-semitic cartoons in the middle east- which yes ARE wrong.. But since when are other people's wrongs to be a reason to adjust our own principles?
Just my thoughts.
Hey Fadhila,
Here's a piece from the NYT discussing the decision, interesting reading:
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/08/13/books/13book.html?_r=1
And here's Yale UP's statement:
http://yalepress.yale.edu/yupbooks/KlausenStatement.asp
If the decision were taken to avoid offence, I think there could be a better case made (although I'd still disagree) but the statement seems to suggest that the decision was taken to avoid violent reprisals, with the caveat that if the reader wanted to view the offending cartoons (although perhaps not the other images of the prophet originally included eg. the Ottoman print) they could do so easily on the internet.
I understand that the cartoons were and are deeply offensive, and certainly a stupid thing to publish in the first place. But in the context of a rigorous academic discussion of the cartoons and with the author's express opinion that the images are Islamophobic I think their inclusion in the book is important, and I don't see how a repeat of the 2006 events is likely. As Reza Aslan notes in the NYT piece "“The controversy has died out now, anyone who wants to see them can see them,” he said of the cartoons, noting that he has written and lectured extensively about the incident and shown the cartoons without any negative reaction."
I'm not sure I fully agree that Yale has sided with violent extremists either, I know they're trying to tread carefully - rightly so - but I think they came up with the wrong conclusion, and that the decision was taken far more out of cowardice than out of respect.