My Classmate Saif al-Islam

It was the beginning of the school year at the London School of Economics and there was already one student that caught my attention. He was slightly older than the rest of us and would always come to class in perfectly fitted Prada suits. I never understood how he managed to arrive just as the lecture was about to begin, never a minute too early or late. He sat across from me and listened intently as our professor lectured us on moral and political theory. I wondered if he was an altruistic banker who had decided to go back to school. I never would have guessed he was the son of a brutal and crazy dictator.

We were the only two non-Caucasian students in the class and quite often I’d feel his gentle eyes staring at me with curiosity. I could tell he was wondering where I was from. Despite his professional and charismatic demeanor, there was something about him that rubbed me the wrong way. In my mind I nicknamed him “the hitman” and would become visibly uncomfortable when he stare at me. He noticed my discomfort and I could tell it bothered him; it was as though he were used to being blacklisted and was sensitive about it.

One day I was late for class and remembered thinking, as I entered the classroom, “Great, the only seat free is next to the hitman.” As I sat down next to him, he turned to me with a warm smile. I forgot my notebook and asked him for paper; it was the first time we had spoken and he seemed excited about it. He handed me a hard covered notebook. I said it seemed like an architect’s notepad. He told me with pride that he was in fact an architect and opened the book showing me his beautiful sketches of buildings. He told me how he owned a building company in Tripoli. I was surprised. I never would have guessed the mysterious man in my class was a Libyan architect. “Isn’t life very hard for people of Libya,” I asked him.

Letter From London: The Aftermath of the Riots

Living in London, one becomes immune to the sound of ambulances and police vans rushing past your rented second-story flat. And the smell of fire is too often covered by that of the fumes from the kebab shop downstairs. Coming home to news of riots in London was hardly surprising, but it was confusing. Having taken part in peaceful student protests earlier this year and at the end of last year, I was initially dubious when I read the news reports about violent and volatile behaviour of these “protesters.” It didn’t take long, however, before it became very clear that this was protesting of a completely different kind.

London, and soon many other cities across the UK, were shaken by the not entirely surprising though not anticipated attacks on shops and persons. Thousands watched in horror as the news channels filmed the complete destruction of people’s homes as entire building complexes burnt down without there being the slightest attempt to put the fires out.

In the Name of Secular Democracy: Defending the Burqa

It is hard to find someone who is apathetic when it comes to the wearing of a burqa. Some countries, like Saudi-Arabia or Afghanistan under the Taliban, promote wearing one. Other countries, like France, Belgium and Syria ban it (it should be noted that the burqa is not the same as hijab - the latter is a headscarf; the former is is a full body, tent-like covering). Some Islamic scholars argue the burqa is compulsory, others, most notably the late head of Egypt’s al-Azhar University, Muhammad Tantawi, denounce it as un-Islamic.

Recently, the debate has flared up in the Netherlands, where the government is planning on banning the burqa, together with the niqab (full face covering), motorcycle helmets, and balaclavas in public places. Those caught breaking the law will be fined €380, or $522.

Piet Hein Donner, the government minister forced to explain the new law, presented the reasons for the law in a manner that was not only disappointing, but perhaps even treasonous. Donner explained that it was against “Dutch custom” to cover one’s face, and since so few women wore the burqa (an estimated 150 in the entire Netherlands), he reasoned that religious freedom was an insufficient reason not to ban it. In other words, any behaviour that is deemed to be against “Dutch custom” can now be marked as a criminal offense as far as this government is concerned.

Do As I Say, Not as I Do: Redefining Morality

A strange mood has gotten hold not only of the Netherlands, but of Europe at large.

Over the past decade, the world has come to know a few famous faces from the Netherlands, but the man who has gained the most infamy is one of our politicians. It is not our prime minister, nor any minister at all. He is both a de facto member of the government and the opposition simultaneously, a man who propagates a very leftist economic agenda, yet claims he despises the left and attacks them as “the elite.” He is so fond of cartoons insulting Islam - which he defends as freedom of speech - that he has received a fine for using one with such haste that he forgot to ask permission from the artist. Yet he demands cartoons insulting him be taken down from the Internet. I am talking, of course, about Geert Wilders, head of the populist anti-immigration Party of Freedom in the Netherlands.

Personally, I am not all that fond of Mr. Wilders. I am often annoyed with the amount of attention he gets and can’t help but roll my eyes whenever someone tells me how brilliant he is. But then, in a society like ours, it is inevitable that a person like Wilders would garner the attention he has gotten. In fact, I often hear people say that the media created Wilders, just as it created Sarah Palin in the U.S. There’s no doubt that the media has played its part. But the sentiments that people like Palin and Wilders have ridden to success are bigger than any one politician. They do not own a monopoly on those sentiments, try as they might.

Recently I went out camping and found myself in the midst of some stimulating conversation. I ran into a pleasant woman who, when she heard I was a student of the Middle East, asked me to explain a few things to her. She told me some ‘Middle Easterners’ in her neighbourhood, Turks in particular, had harassed her for not dressing properly. They had called her a “whore,” and had blocked her path because, as they informed her, a man could block a woman’s path if he wanted to. She asked how a culture like that could ever live harmoniously with ours.

In Jordan, an Uproar Over Internet Censorship

Within the Middle East, Jordan has long been a leader in Internet freedom. It is precisely for that reason that many free speech activists in the kingdom were deeply concerned when the Ministry of Information and Communication Technology sent letters to Jordanian Internet service providers (ISP’s) informing them of plans to block pornographic websites. This is actually the latest move in a broader debate within Jordan over freedom of speech and freedom of the Internet. No one in Jordan is actually advocating for pornographic websites; rather, many Jordanians are arguing that blocking sites is a dangerous precedent in a country that has prided itself on its Internet openness. It also comes at a time when the kingdom remains embroiled in raging debates about reform in the midst of the regional Arab spring.

Life in Jordan, a Photo-Essay

The land east of the Jordan River was first inhabited more than 12,000 years ago and has seen dozens of civilization in its long history, from the Babylonians and Persians to the Romans and Ottomans. Jordan’s capital city, Amman, is one of the oldest, continuously inhabited cities in the world. This rich tapestry of culture and tradition gives the relatively young country a unique perspective and feeling.