I was sitting on the bus yesterday morning, reading with headphones in, hood up, lost in my own world, when the woman sitting next to me accidentally elbowed me. She apologized, then in a deep southern drawl, asked, “Whatcha readin’?” I, headphones, still in, flipped the book closed to show her the cover:

She paused to read it, then said, “Wow.  I think that’s just so important.  It’s like one group of people were treated like crap and bullied and then they turn around and do the same thing.”  Her voice was loud, and in my typical public shyness, I could feel the eyes of everyone else on the bus burning into my skin.  I timidly responded, “I’m trying to learn everything I can.”  She said, “Good for you!” then let me get back to my reading.

This book is not my first stop in learning about the history of Palestine and Israel, nor will it be the last–in fact, I read Abunimah’s book a year ago; this is a re-read, an attempt to answer lingering questions.  It is not a simplistic book, whatsoever; Abunimah addresses each possible objection to the creation of one state built on equality and justice, then effectively counters every one.   His is a call for a peaceful solution, an end to violence from both sides.

For those of you to whom the idea one, equal state built on justice and equality, inclusive of Jewish Israelis and Arab Palestinians alike seems self-evident, it is still worth reading–For me, it’s not a matter of being persuaded, but of gaining a more complete understanding of history and of the possible future.

But this post is not, by any stretch of the imagination, a book review, rather, it is a simple musing on a small encounter on a bus that surprised me.  I’ve ordered a second copy of the book, and if I run into that same woman on the bus again, I’ll be handing it to her.

This is a guest post written by my friend Saed Karzoun, and translated from its original Arabic by Amani Omari.  The article in its original Arabic can be found at 7iber.com.

On my typical day-to-day life, I hang out with a group of young boys and girls like myself; and I realized their growing temptation for emigration outside Palestine to “anywhere” else in the world. The reason is just their urge of leaving the “Restricted zone”. Right then, I felt the need to refresh their memories and ask them; “What do you think of your life in Palestine?”

This was their feedback:

M.A: I wouldn’t call it life. We breathe oxygen, we eat and drink. These are just the necessities everyone automatically has. When I speak for myself, I still haven’t found life.

F.T: Despite the circumstances here, I can’t imagine living elsewhere. I love this country.

W.T: We are still leading a better life than others, yet this isn’t the life we ever wished for.

H.M: I cross checkpoints and see Israeli soldiers every day, and I’ve never felt comfortable with this. My life is always wasted; my thoughts and private life are always influenced by this. People around me have become lifeless and unproductive. I wish I could travel to learn from others and expand my horizons to invest in my country.

W.W: Our strong character and determination for life are the main reason why we hold on to our lives. Despite where we are, there are times when obstacles arise and we must have the drive for determination and survival.

W.W: I’d like to add that everything in this universe carries two sides; it’s our ability to choose the right one which determines who we are.

K.J: The young Palestinian life is simply restricted.

S.Q: I belong to this place to its deep core. Nowhere in the world can be how we picture it, but we make the best of what we have at hand.

S.D: I’d like to say to everyone complaining about their lives: “if you look back at every legendary success from those of leaders, scientists to writers, intellectuals, inventors, painters and to those of musicians and religious men, you will realize they were raised into this life in hardship.”

So, I wonder why do we have these different perspectives! Palestinian youth dream of a new planned world right after graduating high school. They picture a remarkable home, new friends and an imaginary world until these dreams carry them to a magical free world and space.

Then, for one reason or another, those dreams dissolve and fail, and the children find themselves in one of the local Palestinian universities with a major they never planned to study. Probably, it’s due to the fact that our schools haven’t guided us to make our choices in life; hence, we dream of opportunities possible elsewhere. Four, five years of college go by, the kids are feeling “frustrated” .. And right after graduating, we automatically barge into the career world… barely getting up early to work, off to work we go and back to “home sweet home.” Some may think emigrating to Europe or the USA is the solution to this lifeless routine. To exit from the boring family environment and off to private life control, the search for money and Aladdin’s treasure and fame. But once they achieved their dream of traveling, they discover it’s just a dream.

Traveling to different places can have a great influence on us for an extraordinary life experience. I do encourage traveling for intellectual and experiential gain, but why don’t we invest all this for the well-being of our country?

I asked this question at the beginning of my article to see how I can expand this positive energy to our life, and transit from this “laziness” to an energetic and productive stage where opportunities are available. I see Palestine as an ideal place to gain experience, make money, fame, love, and friendship. All this and more are what a young man looks for. How?

Try this: draw a smile on your face, learn to pass it on to your friends, co-workers, and feel the positive energy flow in your body. Entertain yourself with time, even if you have to fake your happiness; embrace obstacles and solve them one by one, then you’ll feel the difference and achievement.

Then go watch a play, a musical performance, or a movie, walk, listen to music, and most importantly, volunteer and become positive. Start with minimal energy and embrace it to grow and benefit yourself.

Palestine is known for its small size, no one is a stranger to the other, it’s easy to move within and success of invention is possible. Don’t wait for an opportunity in bed. Go volunteer, learn, initiate, take pictures, write, or even gather your social group and achieve together. Right then will you cherish your value and what you can do. Right then, you will look at life from a different perspective, with love and thirst for more and work longer and you will realize the society’s support. As for the big nations, these are worlds of big numbers and complex equations.

The thought of belonging is not only limited by staying or leaving as much as it demands work and creation of ideas and opportunities. I believe there are big opportunities out there…all we need to do is lie down, think and take action. Take initiative.

Before I end this, my friend had one concern last year, and that was leaving. He then became occupied with work and ideas and took them to the next level – Action. He worked hard and one month later his idea spread throughout Palestine. He received emails from everywhere and he continued expanding to further opportunities and ideas. His admirers grew around him and right then, he realized the importance of contributing to his country and the difference he is already making. If he were living elsewhere, the society may not have appreciated him as much. They are different people living in a different world. His energy and work may not have handled the million ideas and millions of people. He approached me saying, “My friend, I love this country and can never leave it unless it was for further educating myself; and I will return with a better me and more contributions.”

“Remember, culture is the tool to reflect our true side in the real world. We are humans, the spirit is within us, to either be with dignity or not to be, and children fly beyond the occupying wall, and the accordions are still dancing and dancing on the street of the small papers.”

Saed Karzoun
Translated by: Amani Omari
18.1.2010

Something is rotten in the kingdom of Morocco proclaims Issandr El Amrani in a Guardian piece about the closure of Moroccan magazine Le Journal Hebdomadaire. Though El Amrani notes that the Le Journal case is only one indicator, something is rotten, indeed. The magazine’s offices were liquidated after a commercial appeals court declared that Le Journal’s former and current publishing companies were bankrupt.

Lest this seem like a simple case of poor leadership or low readership, one must first understand why Le Journal is suffering financially. In 2006, Le Journal was ordered to pay MAD 3 million ($370,000) in damages following a defamation case brought forth by Claude Moniquet of European Strategic Intelligence and Security Center. Le Journal had criticized a report by the organization on the Western Sahara for closely toeing the Moroccan government’s official line.

Jamaï had come under fire before; earlier that year, following the publication of the Danish cartoons that negatively depicted the Prophet, Le Journal had issued a special report, re-publishing one of the cartoons, inked out as not to add fuel to the fire. Still, protesters gathered at the magazine’s Casablanca headquarters. Le Journal was also shut down by authorities twice between 2000 and 2005.

Following the 2006 defamation case, Jamaï left Morocco and headed to the United States, where he became a Nieman Fellow at Harvard for a time, completed a Masters in Public Administration at Harvard’s Kennedy School, served as a visiting scholar at the University of San Diego, and wrote for Newsweek’s venerable PostGlobal. In 2009, he returned to Morocco to rejoin Le Journal. Less than a year later, Le Journal faces closure for its lack of funding, brought about by numerous palace attempts to stifle its voices.

Le Journal, and another Moroccan weekly, TelQuel, are essentially why I learned to read French. Few English-language sources on Morocco are available, and those that do exist tend to follow the government’s official line. The two daring (and often competing) French weeklies do not, which is why they’ve suffered under Morocco’s repressive media environment. Le Journal often took the high road over gossipy TelQuel, however, taking the government to task on its many promises, questioning the government’s stance on the Sahara, and uncovering human rights abuses.

Like Issandr El Amrani points out, the closure of Le Journal does not alone indicate Morocco’s slide backwards. The arrests of bloggers Bashir Hazzem, Mohammed Erraji, and Boubaker Al-Yadib, of Facebooker Fouad Mourtada, of countless journalists, should speak for themselves. Yet, Morocco continues to maintain an appearance of moving forward, especially to the United States, which proudly touts Morocco’s Mudawana and subsequent other new rights to women as evidence.

This is an issue that cannot, must not be ignored. Morocco, in case I don’t say it enough, is a beautiful place. I spent more than two wonderful years there, and would still happily go back, despite its faults. But in order for Morocco, for any country, to continue down the road of progress, free expression is non-negotiable.

Shameless plug: For a collection of essays on press freedom in Morocco, look no further than Talk Morocco’s December issue.