Muslim Peace Fellowship endorses

a presentation by Anne Baltzer & the Palestine Freedom Project :

“LIFE IN OCCUPIED PALESTINE: EYEWITNESS STORIES & PHOTOS”

 Anna Baltzer, a Jewish American Columbia graduate, former Fulbright scholar, author, and volunteer with the International Women’s Peace Service, will provide photographic documentation and critical information often misrepresented or ignored in the Western media. Baltzer’s presentation covers the Israeli Occupation, 1948 & the Palestinian refugees, Israeli activism, censorship & myths, and Palestinian-led nonviolent resistance.

Baltzer will also be selling and signing copies of her expanded full-color book: Witness in Palestine: A Jewish American Woman in the Occupied Territories. For more information about Baltzer’s book, DVD, and presentations, visit www.AnnaInTheMiddleEast.com

+ UPCOMING NATIONAL MEDIA:
SUN, NOV 30 @ 6am, 10am, 1pm, 4pm, 9pm, & Midnight
DVD on Free Speech TV (DISH Network Ch 9415)

 

TUES, OCT 21 @ 8pm 
Friends Meeting House
118 E. Main St. 
MOORESTOWN, NJ
WED, OCT 22 @ 7:30pm
Presbyterian Church
100 W. Washington St.
SHEPHERDSTOWN, WV
THURS, OCT 23 @ 12:30pm
Busboys & Poets Restaurant
2021 14th St. N
WASHINGTON, DC
THURS, OCT 23 @ 7pm
UU Church, 333 Dubois Rd.
ANNAPOLIS, MD
 
FRI, OCT 24 @ 2:30pm
Chapel, Goucher College
BALTIMORE, MD
 
SAT, OCT 25 @ 9:40am
National Presbyterian Church
4101 Nebraska Ave. NW
WASHINGTON, DC
 
[All events are free except the very last one on Oct 25th: HCEF's 10th Annual Conference. For all events' exact times, addresses, sponsors, and details, visit: www.AnnaInTheMiddleEast.com/presentations/schedule]
 

********************* Please Distribute Widely *********************

 

                                                                                                   

 Mobilising Muslims: A man and a network with a mission

By Yoginder Sikand

 

( August 2008 )

Shy but amiable and disarmingly down-to-earth, 55-year-old Muhammad Abdus Sabur is a man with a mission. He is the founder and general-secretary of a Bangkok-based network of Asian Muslim social activists struggling for social justice and inter-faith dialogue—the Asian Muslim Action Network, its acronym AMAN, meaning ‘peace’ in Arabic and several languages influenced by it.

 

I met him at his modest office in a Bangkok suburb on a recent visit to Thailand, the meeting being one of the highpoints of my three-week stay in the country.

 

I pester Sabur (as he is known to his friends) with a flood of questions, and he gently obliges. What made him set up AMAN? What exactly is AMAN all about? What are its goals and what has it done so far?

 

Sabur tells me how it all started. Born in a village in what was then East Pakistan and now Bangladesh, Sabur began working with a Bangladeshi NGO in the aftermath of the deadly war that resulted in the creation of the new state. ‘I worked particularly with badly-affected Hindu families in Sylhet in northern Bangladesh, who had born the wrath of the Pakistan army, who had burned down their houses and had killed many of them’, he says. This work brought him in contact with the Bangkok-based Asian Cultural Forum on Development (ACFD), a network of Asian scholar-activists from different religious traditions trying to work out uniquely Asian solutions for uniquely Asian problems, inspired by Asian religious values. In 1979, Sabur was elected as a council member of the ACFD, the youngest on the panel. He shifted to Bangkok to work with the ACFD, and has been based there since then.

 

‘During the course of my many years with the ACFD’, Sabur reminiscences, ‘I was struck how Christian, Buddhist and Hindu activists, inspired by their religious beliefs, were working on numerous fronts in a very organized manner. They were struggling for inter-community solidarity and women’s rights, and speaking out against imperialism and capitalism, world debt and so on, and forcefully debating social issues and problems’. ‘At the same time’, he goes on, ‘I noted, with dismay, how very behind Muslims were in this regard. They had their charities, providing money to madrasas and mosques, which, though important, was obviously not enough to grapple with a whole load of contemporary social concerns, problems, conflicts and struggles’. ‘I felt that our essentially charity-based approach was still stuck in a feudal groove—you give donations to the poor, but don’t touch them, don’t live with and learn from them, don’t participate in their lives and in their struggles for justice. Obviously, our responses were wholly inadequate’, he adds. ‘I knew of many Muslim organizations who did talk of social justice, but this was only in the form of publishing books or delivering lectures. Working with socially-involved Christians, Buddhists and Hindus, I realized that we Muslims, too, need to do practical work, and not just talking and preaching, to translate these dreams of social justice into actual practice.’

 

In 1990, Sabur began contacting progressive Muslim scholar-activists in different Asian countries to do precisely that. A small group of them, from India, Pakistan, Bangladesh and Thailand met at Chiang Mai, in northern Thailand, in September that year, and AMAN was born. The noted Mumbai-based Islamic scholar Asghar Ali Engineer was chosen as the convenor of the network, and Sabur was elected as its general-secretary.

 

The aim of the network? ‘Essentially, to transmit progressive Islamic ideas to Muslim youth’, says Sabur. But it was not as simple as it sounds. This entailed working on several fronts at the same time: bringing progressive and socially-involved Asian Muslim scholars to share their ideas among themselves and with Asian Muslim youth; providing Muslim social organizations with a common platform to learn from each other, improve their methods, build their capacities and expand the scope of their work from mere charity to struggling for social justice and human rights; and interacting with secular as well as non-Muslim NGOs working on issues of common concern, both to join forces as well as to express what important contributions Islam and committed Muslims could make in this regard.

 

With limited funds at its disposal, it has not been an easy journey for AMAN. Involving the traditional ulema of the madrasas in its work, which Sabur sees as essential, given the influence that they enjoy among many Muslim communities, has yet to happen in a significant way. ‘Madrasas are important, I agree, but their students need to have a broader social vision and a deeper insight into a host of social issues of contemporary concern, which many of them lack’, he comments. He cites the instance of several Christian groups, each inspired by what they regard as the values of Christianity, that are actively engaged in struggles for social justice and inter-community solidarity. ‘Islam, properly understood, teaches us all this as well. It stands for equality and fraternity, not just within the mosque, but in society outside too, but this is hardly how it is interpreted today. It stands for human rights, for all human beings, and not just for Muslims alone. It teaches us to respect diversity. The Quran states that God made people into different communities, so that they could understand one another, not so that they should fight and kill each other. We need to revise many of our traditional understandings, to recover what I believe to be the essential social message of Islam’. And that is where the need to reach out to and work with the traditional ulema comes into the picture, for many of them continue to miss the liberating message of the Quran, properly understood, particularly as it applies to women, the poor and the oppressed and to people of other faiths.

 

Today, AMAN organizes a number of activities, all geared to developing progressive responses to the myriad challenges affecting the Asian region, and not just Muslims alone. Its annual three-week peace-building course in Bangkok, conducted in association with a Christian university in Thailand, brings together men and women below the age of 40 from across Asia, mainly Muslims but people of other faiths too, to discuss burning social issues, from the rights of minorities and women, inter-faith dialogue and looming ecological disaster to questions of war and peace, religious and national chauvinism, terrorism and imperialism. It discusses possibilities of peace and social justice in a conflict-torn world and the theological resources that different religions, including Islam, can provide in this regard. AMAN also organizes two seven-day youth training courses for men and women below 25 every year, one in Nepal for South Asians, and the other in Bangkok for participants from South-East Asians, with broadly the same purpose.

 

‘Research and action, scholarship and activism, must go together for them to be really effective’, Sabur comments, and in order to do precisely that in 2003 AMAN launched a new project titled ‘Views From Within: Muslim Communities in South-East Asia’. Under this project, annual fellowships are provided to young Muslim scholars from South-East Asia to engage in research projects on various crucial aspects of the lives and concerns of the myriad Muslim communities living in the region as well as the possibilities of progressive Islamic responses to pressing contemporary issues. So far, thirty-six fellowships have been awarded, and some of the theses that these have led to have been published as monographs.

 

photo by Yoginder Sikand
photo by Yoginder Sikand

Three years ago, this sort of socially-engaged research work was supplemented with the launching of a quarterly journal, AMANA, which now comes out in five languages: English, Bengali, Bahasa Malaysia, Thai and Urdu. Plans are afoot to start an Arabic edition soon. A glance through the contents of recent issues of the magazine illustrates its principal concerns: articles about inter-faith dialogue, women’s rights, Islam, peace and justice, issues in common between Islam and Buddhism, and the fascinating variety of local Muslim cultures; stories about Asian Muslim groups and individuals tackling HIV/AIDS and working together with Christians in strife-torn parts of Indonesia to restore communal harmony; a report of an Hindu youth cycling across India to protest against nuclear bombs and another about Buddhist tribals in eastern Bangladeshis struggling against decades of discrimination.

 

Sabur also talks about other on-going work that AMAN is engaged in: helping out refugees from neighbouring South-East Asian countries who now live and eke out a living in Bangkok, galvanizing funds for mosques destroyed in the recent deadly quake in southern China and for families devastated by a killer cyclone in Myanmar and working with a Buddhist group in war-torn southern Thailand to promote understanding between Muslims and Buddhists. He excitedly tells me about AMAN’s plans of shortly launching a Master’s degree in peace studies in association with an Indonesian university.

Funding for AMAN’s activities comes mainly from Western, mostly Christian, NGOs and a major Japanese Buddhist institution, and the AMANA magazine runs with a grant from Action Aid. Although Sabur has sought to diversify, to contact Muslim philanthropists and organizations who could possibly assist, he tells me that he has had little luck with them, and I am not surprised. ‘Many of them will fund building mosques and madrasas or to promote their own particular sects and versions of Islam, but not this sort of activist work’, he rues. ‘Perhaps it is because they are not aware of this sort of thing’, he muses. Perhaps, I think, but I am not sure. I cannot imagine hardened Wahhabi Arab sheikhs funneling petrodollars to sponsor initiatives activities that challenge Western imperialism, Muslim religious literalism and extremism or that champion women’s rights and ecumenism and solidarity between Muslims and people of other faiths—which is precisely the sort of work that AMAN seems to be engaged in.

 Sabur’s sage advice in the matter is: ‘We need to reach out to Muslim organizations, and to well-off Muslims, to make them aware of all these issues, to get them also involved in various ways in similar work. Perhaps some of them want to help out but don’t know how. We need to speak out, against all forms of oppression, about poverty and illiteracy and discrimination in our own societies, and against imperialism, terror and war, at all Muslim forums, at the national and international levels. Only then can our views and concerns be heard.’ But, coming back to the question of funding, he says in the same breath, ‘We can’t build relationships with money. What we need are simple, down-to-earth, simple and passionately dedicated people, inspired by the spirit of voluntarism and sacrifice, not doing work only if they are paid.’

 

 ’That’, he tells me as I get up to depart, ‘is precisely what genuine religiosity is all about.’

 

 Sabur gives me a hearty hug on my way out, and, firmly holding my shoulders and looking at me in the eye, he recites from his fellow Bengali, the poet Rabindranath Tagore, a verse that I hurriedly noted:

 

Akla Chalo, Akla Chalo, Akla Chalo Rey
Jodi Tor Dak Shuney Kiew Na Ashey
Akla Chalo, Akla Chalo, Akla Chalo Rey

Walk Alone, Walk Alone, Walk Alone, Oh You!
Even if no one comes to you on hearing your call
Walk alone, Walk alone, Walk Alone, Oh You!

 

 Muhammad Abdus Sabur can be contacted on sabur@arf-asia.org and on aman@arf-asia.org. AMAN’s website can be accessed on www.arf-asia.org.

 

 

 

Patriarchy Makes Men Crazy and Stupid

by Robert Jensen

Islamabad, Pakistan — Some lessons learned while spending time in a different culture come from paying attention to the wide diversity in how we humans arrange ourselves socially.  Equally crucial lessons come from seeing patterns in how people behave similarly in similar situations, even in very different cultural contexts.

This week in Pakistan, as I have been learning more about a very different culture than my own, I was reminded of one of those patterns: Patriarchy makes men crazy.

The setting for this lesson is the International Islamic University in Islamabad, where I am teaching a three-week course on media law and ethics as a visiting fellow of the university’s Iqbal International Institute for Research and Dialogue. Institute Director Mumtaz Ahmad brought in me and my Canadian colleague Justin Podur, who is teaching a course on critical thinking, to bring new perspectives to the students at what is a fairly orthodox university, and the dialogue has indeed been rewarding.

As is the case in my courses at the University of Texas at Austin, no matter what the specific subject of the course — freedom of expression, democracy, and mass media, in this case — I often raise questions about how our identities — race, gender, class, nation — structure our position in a society and understanding of the world. Given the gender segregation at IIU — I have male and female students in my class, but they are housed on different campuses and much of the regular instruction is in single-sex settings — it’s difficult not to circle back frequently to gender.

One day while I was talking about race, I pointed out that while white people in a white-supremacist society have distinct advantages, there is one downside: It makes white people crazy.  The students’ expressions suggested they weren’t sure how to take that, so I explained: White supremacy leads white people to believe they are superior based on their skin color.  That idea is . . . crazy.  Therefore, lots of white people — those who explicitly support white supremacy or unconsciously accept such a notion — are crazy.

My students are mostly Pakistani, with a few from other Islamic countries in Asia and Africa; all are brown or black. They tried to be polite but couldn’t help laughing at the obvious truth in the statement, as well as the odd fact that a white guy was saying it.

I then moved to an obvious comparison: We men know about this problem, I said, because of the same problem in patriarchy. In male-supremacist societies, men have distinct advantages, but we often believe that we are superior based on our sex. That idea is . . . .

This time the women laughed, but the men were silent. They weren’t so sure they agreed with the analysis in this case.

The next week a power outage at the university helped me drive home my point.

When we arrived that morning and found our classroom dark, we looked for a space with natural light that could accommodate the entire class.  The most easily accessible place was the carpeted prayer area off the building lobby, and one of the female faculty members helping me with the class led us there.  I sat down with the women, and one of the most inquisitive students raised a critical question about one of my assertions from our previous class.  We launched into a lively discussion for several minutes, until we were informed that the male students had a problem with the class meeting there.  I looked around and, sure enough, the men had yet to join us.  They were standing off to the side, refusing to come into the prayer space, which they thought should not be used for a classroom with men and women.

Our host Junaid Ahmad, who puts his considerable organizing skills to good use in the United States and Pakistan, was starting to sort out the issue when the power came back on, and we all headed back to our regular classroom.  I put my scheduled lecture on hold to allow for discussion about what had just happened.  Could a prayer space be used for other purposes, such as a class?  If so, given such that space is used exclusively by men here, is it appropriate to use it for a coeducational classroom?

It’s hardly surprising that students held a variety of opinions about how to resolve those questions consistent with their interpretation of Islamic principles, and a gendered pattern emerged immediately.  The women overwhelmingly asserted that there was nothing wrong with us all being in the prayer space, and the men overwhelmingly rejected that conclusion.  I made it clear that as an outsider I wasn’t going to weigh in on the theological question, but that I wanted to use our experience to examine how a society could create a system of freedom of expression to explore such issues democratically.

The lesson for me came in how the discussion went forward.  The women were not shy in expressing themselves, eager to engage in debate with the men, who were considerably more reserved.  After a contentious half hour of discussion, we moved forward to my lecture.  During the break, the men huddled to discuss the question of the prayer space.  When we reconvened, one of them asked if a representative of the men could speak again on issue.  He began by saying that he had hesitated to speak in the previous discussion because he felt it was obvious that the women were wrong and he had not wanted to hurt their feelings or impede their willingness to speak up by pointing out their error immediately.

I suggested we resolve that question first.  I turned to the women and asked, “Will your feelings be hurt or will you be you afraid to speak if he is critical of your arguments?”  Their response was a resounding no.

I turned back to the man and made the obvious point: We now have clear evidence that that your assumption was wrong.  The women are telling you directly that they are not shy about debating, and so you can make your points.  When he did — and when the women disagreed — they let him know without hesitation.  From what I could tell, his argument did not persuade many, if any, of the women that their judgments had been wrong.

What struck me about the exchange was how ill-prepared the men were to defend their position in the face of a challenge from the women.  It was clear that the men were not used to facing such challenges, and as they scrambled to formulate rebuttals they did little more than restate claims with which they were comfortable and familiar.  That strategy (or lack of a strategy) is hardly unique to Pakistani men.

To modify my previous statement about the negative effects of privilege on the privileged: Patriarchy makes us men not just crazy but stupid.  The more our intellectual activity takes place in male-dominant spaces, and the more intensely male-dominant those spaces are, the less likely we are to develop our ability to think critically about gender and power.  Sometimes when faced with an incisive challenge, men become aggressive, even violent; sometimes men retreat with an illusory sense of victory; sometimes men sulk until women give up the debate.  Individual men will react differently in different times and places; it’s the patterns that are important.

Cultural diversity exists alongside universal patterns.  The United States and Pakistan are very different societies, but they are both patriarchal.  Patriarchy takes different forms in each society, and the harms to women can be quite different, but my observation holds in both.  It doesn’t mean patriarchy doesn’t sometimes also constrain women’s thinking, nor does it mean women are always right in debates with men.  To identify patterns is not to make ridiculous totalizing claims.

There’s one more valuable lesson I took away from this episode: I have to be vigilant in challenging my stereotypes about women in Islamic societies.  I can be quick to assume that Islamic women always capitulate to the patriarchal ideas and norms that dominate their societies.  While I can’t know what each woman in the room was thinking, there was a consensus that they would not accept the conclusion of the men without challenge.  In front of me were women with their heads covered (the hijab) and some with the full face veil (the niqab).  Others had scarves draped around their shoulders, their heads uncovered.  One of the two most forceful women in the debate wore the hijab and the other was uncovered; I couldn’t predict the content or tone of a woman’s response from her dress. No matter how much I know that intellectually, I still catch myself making assumptions about these women based on their choice of head covering.  The class discussion reminds me to remember to challenge my own assumptions.

These conclusions are hardly original or revolutionary, but they bear regular restatement:

It is crucial that we remember the reality of cultural diversity and encourage respect of that diversity, while not shying away from critical engagement.  That’s especially important for those of us from privileged classes in affluent imperial nations, who often are quick to assume we are superior.

It’s just as crucial to look for patterns across cultures, to help us understand how systems of power shape us in ways that are remarkably consistent and to help us develop better strategies to resist illegitimate authority and transform our diverse societies.  That is important for us all who care about justice.


Robert Jensen is a journalism professor at the University of Texas at Austin and board member of the Third Coast Activist Resource Center (thirdcoastactivist.org). Jensen is the author of The Heart of Whiteness: Race, Racism, and White Privilegeand Citizens of the Empire: The Struggle to Claim Our Humanity (both from City Lights Books); and Writing Dissent: Taking Radical Ideas from the Margins to the Mainstream (Peter Lang).  He can be reached at rjensen@uts.cc.utexas.edu and his articles can be found online at uts.cc.utexas.edu/~rjensen/index.html.

Different Planets

by Uri Avnery
 

July 19, 2008         
I SPENT the whole day flipping between the Israeli channels and Aljazeera.
 
It was an eerie experience: in a fraction of a second I could switch between two worlds, but all the channels reported on exactly the same occasion. In one section of the breaking news, the events happened at a distance of a few dozen meters from each other, but they could just as well have happened on two different planets.
 
Never before have I experienced the tragic conflict in such a stunning immediacy as last Wednesday, the day of the prisoner swap between the State of Israel and the Hezbollah organization.
 
 
THE MAN who stood at the center of the event personifies the abyss that separates the two worlds, the Israeli and the Arab: Samir al-Kuntar.
 
All Israeli media call him “Murderer Kuntar”, as if that were his first name. For the Arab media, he is “Hero Samir al-Kuntar”.
 
29 years ago, before Hezbollah had become a significant factor, he landed with his comrades on the beach of Nahariya and carried out an attack that has imprinted itself on the Israeli national memory with its cruelty. In the course of it, a four year-old girl was murdered, and a mother accidentally suffocated her small child while trying to keep it from giving away their hiding place. Kuntar was then 16 years old - not a Palestinian, nor a Shiite, but a Lebanese Druze and a communist. The action was set in motion by a small Palestinian fraction.
 
Years ago I had an argument with my friend Issam al-Sartawi about a similar incident. Sartawi was a Palestinian hero, a pioneer of peace with Israel, who was later assassinated because of his contacts with Israelis. In 1978 a group of Palestinian fighters (”terrorists” in Israeli parlance) landed on the shore south of Haifa in order to capture Israelis for a prisoner swap. On the beach they came across a photographer who was innocently strolling around and killed her. After that they intercepted a bus full of passengers, and in the end all of them were killed.
 
I knew the photographer. She was a gentle young woman, a good soul, who liked taking pictures of flowers in nature. I remonstrated with Sartawi about this despicable act. He told me: “You don’t understand. These are youngsters, almost kids, untrained and inexperienced, who are operating behind the lines of a dreaded enemy. They are scared to death. They cannot act with cool logic.”
 
That was one of the few instances where we did not agree - though both of us were, each within his own people, on the fringe of the fringe.
 
This Wednesday, the difference between the two worlds was apparent in its most extreme form. In the morning, the “Murderer Kuntar” woke up in an Israeli prison, in the evening the “Hero al-Kuntar” stood in front of a hundred thousand cheering Lebanese from all communities and parties. It took him but a few minutes to cross from Israeli territory to the tiny UN enclave at Ras-al-Naqura and from there to Lebanese territory, from the realm of Israeli TV to the realm of Lebanese TV - and the distance was greater than that transversed by Neil Armstrong on the way to the moon.
 
By talking endlessly about the “Bloodstained Murderer” who will never be freed, whatever happens, Israel has turned him from just another prisoner into a pan-Arab hero.
 
Nowadays it is already a banality to say that one person’s terrorist is another’s freedom fighter. This week, a slight movement of the finger on the TV remote control was enough to experience this first-hand.
 
 
EMOTIONS RAN high on both sides.
 
The Israeli public was immersed in a sea of sorrow and mourning for the two soldiers, whose death was confirmed only minutes before the return of their bodies. For hours on end, all the Israeli channels devoted their broadcasts to the feelings of the two families, who the media had spent the last two years transforming into national symbols (as well as rating-boosting instruments).
 
No need to mention that not a single voice in Israel said even one word about the 190 families, the bodies of whose sons were returned to Lebanon on the same day.
 
In this whirlpool of self-pity and mourning ceremonies, the Israeli public had no energy and interest left for trying to understand what was happening on the other side. On the contrary: the reception accorded to the Murderer and the victory speech of the Mastermind of Murder only added fuel to the flames of fury, hatred and humiliation.
 
But it would have been really worthwhile for Israelis to follow the happenings there, because they will have a lot of impact on our situation.
 
 
IT WAS, of course, Hassan Nasrallah’s big day. In the eyes of tens of millions of Arabs, he has won a huge victory. A small organization in a small country has brought Israel, the regional power, to its knees, while the leaders of all the Arab countries are bending the knee before Israel.
 
Nasrallah promised to bring Kuntar back. For that purpose he captured the two soldiers. After two years and one war, the newly freed prisoner stood on the tribune in Beirut, dressed in a Hezbollah uniform, and Nasrallah himself, endangering his personal safety, came out and embraced him in front of the TV cameras, as a cheering crowd went wild with enthusiasm.
 
Faced with this demonstration of personal courage and self-confidence, its dramatic flair so characteristic of the man, the Israeli army reacted with the inane statement: “We would not advise Nasrallah to leave his bunker!”
 
Aljazeera brought all this live, hour after hour, to millions of homes from Morocco to Iraq and the Muslim world beyond. It was impossible for Arab viewers not to be swept along on the waves of emotion. For a young person in Riyadh, Cairo, Amman or Baghdad, there was only one possible reaction: Here is the man! Here is the man who is restoring Arab honor after decades of defeats and humiliation! Here is the man, compared to whom all the leaders of the Arab world are dwarfs! And when Nasrallah announced that “As from this moment, the era of Arab defeats has come to an end!” he captured the spirit of the day.
 
I suspect that there were also quite a number of Israelis who made unflattering comparisons between this man and our own cabinet ministers, the champions of empty, boastful verbiage. Compared to them, Nasrallah looks responsible, credible, logical and determined, without spin and hollow words.
 
On the eve of the huge rally, he addressed the public and forbade firing into the air, as is common in Arab celebrations. “Anyone who shoots, shoots at my breast, my head, my robe!” he declared. Not a single shot was fired.
 
 
FOR LEBANON it was a historic day. Something like this has never happened before: all the country’s political elite, without exception, turned out at Beirut airport to welcome Kuntar, and at the same time to salute Nasrallah. Some of them were gnashing their teeth, of course, but the understood very well the way the wind is blowing.
 
They were all there: the President of Lebanon, the Prime Minister, all the members of the new cabinet, the leaders of all the parties, all the communities and all the religions, all living past presidents and prime ministers. The Sunni Saad Hariri, who has accused Hezbollah of involvement in the assassination of his father; the Druze Walid Jumblat, who has demanded the liquidation of Hezbollah more than once; and the Maronite Christian Samir Geagea, who bears the responsibility for the Sabra and Shatila massacre; together with many others who but yesterday were showering Hezbollah with every possible obscenity.
 
In his speech, the new President praised all those who took part in freeing Kuntar, thus conferring national legitimacy not only on the Hezbollah action that precipitated the war, but also on the military function of Hezbollah in defending Lebanon. Since the President was until recently the commander of the army, this means that the Lebanese army, too, embraces Hezbollah.
 
On Wednesday, Nasrallah became the most important and powerful person in Lebanon. Three months after the crisis that almost caused a civil war, when Prime Minister Fuad Siniora demanded that Hezbollah turn over its private communication network, Lebanon has become a unified country. Demands like the disarming of Hezbollah have become a pipe dream. Lebanon is also united in the demand for the liberation of the Shebaa farms and for the delivery by Israel of the maps of minefields and the deadly cluster bombs left by our army after the second Lebanon war.
 
Those who remember Lebanon as a doormat in the region, and the Shiites as a doormat in Lebanon, can appreciate the immensity of the change.
 
 
IN ISRAEL, some people blame the prisoner swap for the dizzying ascent of Nasrallah and the whole national-religious camp in the Arab world. But Israel’s responsibility for these trends started long before Ehud Olmert’s attempts to distract attention from his diverse corruption affairs.
 
All those are to blame who supported the stupid and destructive Second Lebanon War, which was enthusiastically hailed on the first day by all the media, the “Zionist” parties and the leading men of letters. The bodies of the two captured soldiers could have been retrieved by negotiations before the war much in the same way this has been done now. This is what I wrote at the time.
 
But one can trace the blame even further back, to Ariel Sharon’s First Lebanon War. Then, too, all the media, the parties and the leading intellectuals deliriously welcomed the war on the first day. Before that disastrous war, the Shiite community was our good and quiet neighbor. Sharon is responsible for the ascent of Hezbollah; and the Israeli army, which assassinated Nasrallah’s predecessor, gave Nasrallah the opportunity to become what he now is.
 
Neither should one forget Shimon Peres, who created the disastrous “Security Zone” in South Lebanon, instead of getting out in good time. And David Ben-Gurion and Moshe Dayan, who, in 1955, proposed installing “a Christian major” as dictator of Lebanon, who would then sign a peace treaty with Israel.
 
The deadly mixture of arrogance and ignorance that is typical of all Israeli dealings with the Arab world is also responsible for what happened on Wednesday. It would be wonderful if this taught our leaders some modesty and consideration for the feelings of others, as well as the ability to read the map of reality, instead of living in a bubble of national autism. But I am afraid that the opposite will happen: a strengthening of the feelings of anger, insult, sanctimoniousness and hatred.
 
All the Israeli governments bear responsibility for the national-religious wave in the Arab world, which is much more dangerous for Israel than the secular nationalism of leaders like Yasser Arafat and Bashar al-Assad.
 
 
THIS WEEK, another important thing happened: in one great leap, the Syrian president jumped from American-imposed isolation into global stardom at a grandiose international show in Paris. The pathetic attempts by Olmert, Tzipi Livni and a band of Israeli reporters to shake the hand of Assad, or at least a minister, a low official or a bodyguard, were pure slapstick.
 
And still more happened this week: the No. 3 in the US Department of State officially met with Iranian delegates. And it became clear that the negotiations with Hamas over the next prisoner swap are still in deep freeze.
 
The new situation harbors many dangers, but also a host of opportunities. The new status of Nasrallah as a central player in the Lebanese political game imposes on him responsibility and caution. A strengthened Assad may be a better partner for peace, if we are ready to take the opportunity. The American negotiations with Iran may avert a destructive war, which would be a disaster for us, too. The legitimization of Hamas by the negotiations, when they are resumed, may lead to Palestinian unity, like the unity achieved now in Lebanon. Any peace agreement we signed with them would really have legs to stand on.
 
In two months Israel may have a new government. If it wants to, it could start a new initiative for peace with Palestine, Lebanon and Syria. 

permlink  http://zope.gush-shalom.org/home/he/channels/avnery/1216466385/

email address for correspondence 
correspondence   @   gush   -   shalom   .   org
 without the spaces
 
Recommended occupation related reading & data :
http://www.kibush.co.il
http://www.btselem.org
http://www.ochaopt.org/

 

The Madrid Interfaith Dialogue

by Rabbi Arthur Waskow and Rabbi Phyllis Berman

Today - Friday, July 18 - the two of us are in Madrid, having just completed taking part in a three-day Global Interfaith Conference initiated by the King of Saudi Arabia and sponsored by the World Muslim League.


Far beyond the frou-frou of shaking hands with two kings in a Spanish royal palace – Abdullah of Arabia and Juan Carlos of Spain, who acted as host — the gathering is itself an important breakthrough in this work, a clarification of how far there is yet to go, and a signal that even within the conference itself, the organizers were willing to begin correcting some shortcomings when the participants pointed them out.Before the gathering, some skeptics wondered whether this would be all hype and PR, concocted to smooth over that aspect of Islam which has carried out terrorist violence against civilians.

Even worse, the first US corporate-media coverage was a nasty piece from the Associated Press that drew on unnamed but clearly hostile sources to say that an ultra-Orthodox rabbi who is an anti-Zionist was the lead Jewish figure (in fact, he wasn’t present at all) and scorning the importance of the presence of the universally respected Rabbi David Rosen, chairman of the International Jewish Committee on Interreligious Consultations and director of interreligious affairs for the American Jewish Committee, because his biography did not note that he is an Israeli.

In fact, the Jews present included major leaders of the Orthodox, Reform, Conservative, and Jewish-renewal movements in the US, a rabbi high on the staff of the UJA in New York City, several leading Jewish experts in interfaith dialogue and action, the Deputy Chief Rabbi of Great Britain, the head of the Latin-American Jewish Congress, a conservative Jewish Republican who has for five years been involved in dialogues with Iranian religious leaders — in short, a rainbow of Jewish life. (We are appending their names at the end of our report.)

The AP report clearly stemmed from some Jewish source that wanted to prejudice public opinion against any possibility that a Saudi initiative could be valuable or real.

But several aspects of the event make clear that indeed something real and important is happening.

First of all, this effort began with a conference in Mecca six weeks ago, in which Muslims of all backgrounds and ethnicities and nationalities came together to affirm that Islam is committed in its basic principles to dialogue, and abhors violence. That conference then called for this one.

If the Madrid event had been conceived only as a PR stunt to bamboozle the non-Muslim world, the effort would not have begun in Mecca, dedicated to clearing the heads of Muslim leaders of any attraction to violence or hatred, and turning them toward dialogue and peacemaking.

Moreover, in both Mecca and Madrid, the gatherings have included Shiites as well as Sunnis, Iranians as well as other Muslims from Indonesia to America. If this effort had been planned to mobilize a Sunni coalition aimed against Iran, a manipulative and destructive flag that present US policy has been waving in the wind, Iranians and other Shiites would have been excluded.

Perhaps most indicative, the participants’ list here in Madrid includes not only Jews and Christians but also Hindus, Buddhists, Shintoists – and King Abdullah went out of his way in his welcoming talk to specify that all the world’s religions and ethical philosophies must address each other in dialogue.

Why is this important? Because classical Muslim thought found it easy to tolerate the other monotheistic peoples of the Book, Judaism and Christianity, and to celebrate “the children of Abraham” – but would conventionally have rejected the Eastern traditions as polytheist or atheist or idolatrous. Reaching out to them was a breakthrough for Muslims.

Beyond the mind-addicting, ultimately mind-numbing effort to hear speaker after speaker talk from a podium, with time for a limited number of questions and comments from the audience at each session, was the real juicy “dialogue”: at tables at mealtimes. We found ourselves at one meal next to a high Saudi official who said that he had never been out of Saudi Arabia and that he was fascinated by the variety of human beings he was meeting.

The experience was not his alone: Neither of us had ever had the chance to “meet, really meet,” a Saudi. Hundreds of us had just such conversations with new dialogue-partners.

One of us – Arthur — was able in one Q & A session to explain how the Tent of Abraham, Hagar, and Sarah had learned to begin our dialogues by sharing our spiritual journeys with each other, and how the next Dialogue conference might be well-advised to set aside two hours a day for groups of eight to ten people to meet to do precisely that, thereby accomplishing far deeper face-to-face dialogue.

Through that telling, Arthur was able also to point out that it was Rabbi Phyllis Berman, drawing on the wisdom of women, who had shaped that path of sharing our spiritual journeys — and to urge that the next such interfaith conference should draw far more on the wisdom of women as speakers as well as organizers.He pointed this out because the program showed that from beginning to end, in five different sessions with four or five speakers each, not a single woman was scheduled.

Arthur and Phyllis were not the only participants to raise this concern. Yet several people told us that the cultural assumptions of the Saudi organizers were so deeply engrained that such changes would have to wait at least until the next gathering. But lo and behold, on the very next morning, the session chair announced that a change had been made in the program and that a Spanish Muslim woman scholar would speak on the role of women in interfaith work.

What’s more, she was no patsy. Citing historical data, she gently but firmly made clear that the inclusion of women in interfaith work was necessary for depth and success in the work.

The most fiery moment of the gathering came when one Muslim speaker, discussing Christian-Muslim-Jewish dialogue, cast doubt on whether Jewish-Muslim dialogue was possible. He also asserted that while Judaism is a religious path, Zionism is a political construct.

Jews and Muslims rose to correct him, reporting that in many cultures — North and South America, Britain, Western Europe, Sarajevo in Southeastern Europe — Jews and Muslims were already carrying out various forms of dialogue and shared action. That was when Arthur described not only the process but also the results of the Tent’s work – including our stimulating major organizations of all three Abrahamic communities to oppose the US government’s invasion and occupation of Iraq.

Moreover, Rabbi David Rosen spoke to the Judaism/ Zionism question, saying that true dialogue requires understanding the Other as the Other sees (him/her)self and that most of the Jewish community sees the connection between the People Israel and the Land of Israel as a religious matter, even when some disagree with the behavior of any political or governmental expression of that bond.

Arthur was then able to add that in the process of dialogue, not only does each partner get to hear the other, but each partner might also discover resources for changing one’s own self. Thus, he said, there is growing amongst the Jewish people a reconsideration of conventional theology to ask whether God promised the land, which some call the Land of Israel and others call Falastin/Palestine, to both the families that descend from Avraham/ Ibrahim. And perhaps among Muslims, he added, such deep dialogue might bring about a reexamination of the passages in Quran that say the Jewish people has a special relationship with the Land of Israel.

These disagreements with the original speaker were met with openness: considerable applause, some doubt. The fact that Muslims themselves testified that Jewish-Muslim dialogue not only was possible but had been happening for years was clearly news to some of the more cloistered Muslims present.

And that, like the openness to change course and invite a woman speaker, and like the real conversations around the dinner tables, is the real testimony to the honesty of the Muslim organizers and the major significance of the gathering. Dialogue was not only talked about – it began to happen. People changed.

Baruch hashem; hamdulillah; Praise God! Blessed is the One Who has filled us with life, lifted us up, and carried us to this moment.

Shalom, salaam, peace –

Arthur & Phyllis

The following is a partial list of other Jewish leaders present at this gathering with us:

Claudio Epelman, Director of the Latin American Jewish Congress;
Rabbi Joseph H. Ehrenkranz, Executive Director: Center for Christian-Jewish Understanding;
Chief Rabbi David Rosen, International Director of Religious Affairs: American Jewish Committee;
Rabbi Steven Jacobs, Rabbi Emeritus, Temple Kol Tikvah, Los Angeles;
Rabbi Marc Schneier, President, Foundation for Ethnic Understanding;
Walter Ruby, journalist, Muslim-Jewish Program Officer for the Foundation of Ethnic Understanding;
Rabbi Scott Sperling, Director, Middle Atlantic Region, Union for Reform Judaism;
Rabbi Brad Hirschfield, President, National Center for Learning and Leadership;
Rabbi Arthur Schneier, Appeal of Conscience Foundation;
Professor Marshall Jordan Breger, Professor of Law, Catholic University of America;
Rabbi Alan Brill, Professor of Jewish-Christian studies, Seton Hall University;
Dr. Marc Gopin, Director, Center for World Religions, Diplomacy, and Conflict Resolution;
Dr. Steven T. Katz, Director, Elie Wiesel Center for Judaic Studies;
Rabbi Burton L. Visotzky, Professor of Midrash & Interreligious Studies at the Jewish Theological Seminary;
Rabbi David Lister, Deputy Chief Rabbi of Great Britain;
Rabbi Michael Lerner, editor-in-chief Tikkun magazine;
Rabbi Michael Paley, UJA-Federation, New York City;
Naamah Paley, student of Hebrew and Arabic.
 

 

 

If you haven’t played yet, you gotta.

A favorite fantasy with sound underpinnings, brought to you by American Public Media.  Guess what: even with absolute power, there are still tradeoffs. But maybe fewer than you would think. The best part of this game: compare your choices with those of your political opposites for some interesting surprises.  Check it out, tell me what you think.  Click here for Budget Hero.

 

as-salamu `alaykum … peace be upon you.

After great and long-lamented delay, the Muslim Peace Fellowship web presence is rebuilding.  We welcome your comments and suggestions. So much to do, so little time!

WHATEVER ACT OF VIOLENCE HAS JUST TAKEN PLACE, WE DEPLORE IT