(Your Voice in a World where Zionism, Steel, and Fire have turned Justice Mute)
THREE DIALOGUES WITH AN ARAB IN NORTH AMERICA:
ON PEACE WITH ZIONISTS; THE ARAB IDENTITY; DIGNITY, CAPITALISM, AND POWER
By Chadi Serhal
An adverse confrontation occurred recently
between me and a friend in my living room in Montréal, Canada.
This person is born to Arab parents in an Arab
country and speaks the Arab language yet sees that the Golan Heights are not
worth fighting for.
This person commends Sadat for supposedly
realizing his people’s will and best interests by normalizing relations between
his Arab people and the Zionists!
In 1977, Sadat, without consulting with his
Cabinet, announced in an interview on American television his inclination to
visit the Zionist state; if he is welcomed there. By doing so, Sadat
represented Egypt, a pillar in the Arab state system, in recognising the
legitimacy of the rape of Arab Palestine by the Zionists.
By signing the Camp David peace-accords with
the Zionist state, Sadat dragged Egypt into abandoning the Arab-Zionist
struggle, and into opening its borders to those who dispossessed and replaced
the Palestinian Arabs in their own land. Hence, the Egyptian regime officially
accepted the Zionist state as a legitimate entity on Arab land and became thus
the first Arab state to exchange diplomats with the Zionists. This helped make
of the Zionist State a viable international entity with the alleged purpose of
regaining the Sinai Desert or putting an end to bloodshed as some may argue.
But what did Sadat bring to Egypt and the Arabs
in exchange?
With the Camp David Accords between Egypt and the Zionist entity, the largest
and most powerful Arab army became ‘neutered’ in its role in the Arab-Zionist
struggle. By neutering Egypt’s position and hence putting it in chains, the
Zionists were able to strike Iraq and occupy Lebanon; committing massacres and
hunting Palestinian freedom fighters while Egypt misrepresented its people by
standing distant, uttering diplomatic words of self-restraint and condemnation
as the Arabs stood helpless, and continue to.
This contributed to weakening Egypt politically as the Zionist State
projected its power more intensively on a regional scale.
The Egyptian regime then, became a powerful tool for the Zionists and the US in
the Arab-Zionist struggle; first by taking the side of the US in its Cold War
against the USSR, who took the Arab side in general, while the US sided with
the Zionist State. In addition, Egypt became a vast market for American
products, as well as a grand beneficiary of US aid every year, which acts as
nothing but a ‘pat on the back’ or a carrot before a horse. Sinai was only half-regained (as the
Egyptian army is not allowed to be there by the terms of the Camp David
Treaty), but Egypt itself was half-lost.
Furthermore, ever since Camp David, the Egyptian regime became an Arab power
that acted as the ‘mediator’ for a ‘peace’ between the Arabs and the Zionists,
calling for an end to the Palestinian uprising before the occupiers and
settling for confining their borders within parts of the West Bank, Gaza and East
Jerusalem only. The Egyptian regime also calls for the official recognition of
the Zionist State by the Arab states; opening up borders and markets.
A Zionist, as we define the term today, is one
who believes in the immigration of world Jews [including new converts] to the
land of Palestine, known as ‘Israel’. Henceforth, by recognizing ‘Israel’,
Sadat was the first Arab ‘leader’ to formally become an Arab Zionist on the
international and diplomatic scene. Thus
he inaugurated the path of Arab Zionism.
----------------------------------------------------------
According to the friend I was holding the
discussion with, a multi-national corporation like McDonalds for instance can
amicably support and donate to children foundations and cancer research
societies as charity; on the other hand, aiding and financing functions in the
Zionist state [that do not go to building hospitals and schools I may add] is a
dubious concept. In other words, when such companies donate to charities, we
believe and encourage them by purchasing more; but when we learn that they
financially support ‘Israel’, we deny that and say that cannot be possible.
This person believes that it should not matter if our purchasing money goes to
these corporations because many shareholders happen to be Arab.
Although this person speaks the language and shares the best [and the worst]
attributes of our over-all Arabic culture, he says that he is not Arab; he is
only a speaker of the language.
He does not sound like your average Canadian either!
Loss of identity; cultural shock or a clash of
cultures; what ever it is, there is a void; and instead of filling it with a
sense of belonging or a nostalgia for pan-Arab patriotism, as some may call it,
the void, conversely, remains filled with a sense of loss; an emptiness with no
bases, no structure nor a credible argument…
He may argue that his nationality is his
religion, but even that stipulates that one adheres to certain courses of
action, especially when Arab land on which Muslim people dwell is involved. But
that too is missing.
The aggravating thing is that I mentioned one
word in Arabic - ‘karameh’ – dignity; to which his response was on the lines of
‘what dignity? Get with the modern world; get with Capitalism, bro; dignity is
the term that keeps you people stagnant and draws you backwards’.
This person’s arguments are based on what he
hears in the media. Even the most prestigious of these networks, aside from
their bias towards either one of the sides, only wishes to break news; they are
not run by angels who try to spread the truth. If one network does not break
the top story, regardless whether it endorses or believes it, then another
agency will; hence gaining the trust and respect of the people.
And as we know, news, or what may be perceived
as ‘facts’, do not necessarily mean truth.
This person asked me who ‘my people’ are… That
was a tough one. I always referred to my people as the Arabs; by blood, by
language, by birth… Any of the above or all of them combined. I believe that
you cannot inherit beliefs from your parents. But then again, branches stem
from the same roots, even if they do not see them and are very far off the
ground, they still share the same roots; and the branches would only rise high
if their roots were healthy and deeply ingrained. A seed needs strong roots in
order for it to grow and become a tree.
So who are my people he asked me?
My people are those who are there; born in the Arab region; they lived there. If they are away, my people go back to their roots. My people share the same problems, concerns and issues.
Many are not
affected though. Some say ‘Israel’ is the enemy; some say the Palestinians are,
while others see Syria as the enemy; and all this exists in just one small
curved up piece of land that the colonialists called a country; and we
believed.
Yet, my people are uprising. But at the same time, many of my people are too busy making money for the sake of money, and are proud to ‘not belong to’, or be ‘uninvolved’ or ‘uninterested’ in any cause. Many of my people are supporting the big companies that support the government that wants to kill the uprising. Many of my people know nothing, say nothing and do nothing for their or others' enlightenment.
Many of my people have lived there and are my people by birth, but have lost their cause some generations ago, while some are losing it as we speak. Many of my people were born away from their land and have no ties with it; they may speak the language but they do not write it. While others go and learn how to write it and learn about its ancient poets too.
Many of my people expect other governments to do the dirty work for them so that they could go back home to an ‘open’ regime; and if you were to define ‘open’, you would know that the only ‘openness’ is that of the market to foreign investment and trade. Many of my people are the ones who do not care; they are the ones who left their country as children and got used to it and said that's it; I cannot leave now! They are the people who are just living the 9 to 5 lives. Instead of curing their people, they are curing others; instead of building for their people, they are building for others. Yet some stay there to ‘integrate’ in position, not in identity, and try to make a difference that they could not make elsewhere.
Some talk about freedom; freedom of speech to write and speak about change and for change. Some talk about freedom; freedom to walk the way that you want and do whatever you want, wherever you want. Freedom from the ties and constraints of culture is what some mean by freedom.
Yet again, among my people there are those who use whatever they have to make a difference; their voices, their art, their movies, their pens; anything they do revolves around voicing their issues and making their cause known. These people may leave their land; yet they toil for change and reform without being sellouts. They do this without crossing to the other side and by owing nothing to anyone. These are my people.
My people are people
of faith and dignity; and this is why I continue to uprise.
----------------------------------------------------------
One could argue that if you hold any kind of
power but do not use it in times of need, then you are weak. The person I was
arguing with, however, made me think and convinced me that the opposite of
‘powerful’ is not ‘weak’. Nonetheless, our power remains concealed.
It is not only about ‘Israel’ and the companies
that support the Zionist causes; it goes way beyond this. To each his own
national identity and concern, but from whichever perspective; Palestine, Iraq,
Lebanon, Egypt, Libya, Jordan, or even non-Arab countries, there is often one
common enemy; one manipulative power; one puppet government; one silenced,
fearing, defeated people; or just mere distorted-Capitalist interests. And no,
communism is not the sole antonym for capitalism, not everything is black or
white; left or right! Communism, at least as it was practiced in the former
socialist states, is not necessarily the antonym of the monotonous, selfish,
greedy, lifeless, and friendless, abusive ‘capitalist’ system that is adopted
by some states and that manages to infiltrate and find its patrons in many of
my people’s minds and agendas.
All this got me thinking of something and I would like to share it with you
regarding Fairouz and the musicals of the Rahbany brothers.
Within the numerous socio-political plays that
Fairouz and the Rahbany brothers delivered, there are many inferences and
implications. On August 10, 2002, what Fairouz once relayed to older
generations three or four decades ago re-transpired in her Beiteddine concert.
On that day, Fairouz spoke about the ‘karamah’ once again; a reminder for
today’s generations that something could be done; everyone have their ways, and
change does not come over night… The sword does not necessarily have to be made
of steel when she chants ‘Sayfun Falyush’har’ - A sword, let it be
unsheathed! One song testifies ‘il karameh ghadab’ – dignity is anger!
That night, a musical piece from ‘Natooret Il
Mfateeh’ - The Guardian of the Keys - was performed. In the play, Fairouz
recounts a story not very different from her own, when during an interview
amidst the civil war she proclaimed that she refuses to leave the homeland,
despite the death tolls and the bomb that directly hit her home. She smiled and
said, and I am quoting in the translation: ‘My silence increases and I pray’.
The play, as it was presented in the 70s, tells
the story of an oppressive king whose subjects are humiliated to the extent
that when an old friend of his is asked to kneel before him and declines, he,
as well as his three children, is sentenced to 25 years in jail.
Fairouz’s character, Zad-il-Kheir, is a peasant
who could not pay the inequitable, newly-imposed tax that the king refuses to
absolve her of; and in effect she is sent to prison. When her term in jail
ends, a revolutionary character leads the people to flee the kingdom; leaving
Zad-il-Kheir, who declines to leave, the only subject to the king.
The people hand over the keys to their homes to
Zad-il-Kheir, so she can guard them until their anticipated return once the
king’s oppressive regime ends.
The tables turn and Zad-il-Kheir, the seemingly
weak character, tells the king that he cannot force her to do anything because
if he kills her he will have no subjects to exercise his kinship over. As well,
he cannot imprison her because that too would render him a king with majesty
and power over no one. Moreover, she warns that if he tries to trick her, she
too will abandon the kingdom.
The king then frees all the prisoners in order
for him to have subjects to rule over. They all flee as well, except
Zad-il-Kheir.
The king realizes the power that his ‘subjects’
hold over him. He eventually comes down from his throne knocking at the
peoples’ doors imploring their return to a different policy.
We are all the ‘subjects’; the foundations of
the system. We are the people; everything rises on our bases. Nothing can stand
without us, and no one can rise unless we construct their steps. If the
foundations shake, the buildings collapse and the system changes. We are the
reason for the system and we are its constructors.
Maybe if the person I was talking to could see
that there is anything more to this play than merely a musical featuring
several famous songs that made a household name of the Rahbanys; then maybe he
could have realized the power that we hold in our hands. Maybe we wouldn’t have
sat in our living room deprecating ourselves, our people and our ‘representatives’
[known to many as ‘leaders’] and resorting to prayer and supplication instead
of doing so whilst we take the simplest measures in our hands. If we really
look into what this play means, then maybe we would not keep complaining, or
uttering sentiments of anger and sorrow about what the world is doing to the
‘poor’ Palestinians and Iraqis, and, and, and…
Enough of finding excuses already; what will
material goods add to a person without dignity?
P.S. This friend with whom I quarrelled has now
changed his mind.