History Repeats Itself

Preface: Three years ago there was a Hezbollah-Israel prisoner swap (of sorts) and, in my flurry of thoughts about the situation, I wrote an opinion article regarding it. It has since sat in my pile of thoughts and documents, growing increasingly out of date.

Now a new prisoner exchange is taking place. Gilad Shalit, who has been held by Hamas militants for five years now, is finally being released…in exchange for 1027 Palestinian prisoners.

It’s difficult to comment on this. On one hand, I want to rejoice along with Israelis that Shalit is finally being released. On the other, the inequality of the exchange speaks distressing volumes, and here is where the old article I wrote from 2008 will serve instead of any further commentary. And: warning. The commentary conveys strong feelings. It is not impartial. It is an opinion piece coming from someone with very strong opinions:

Dead for More Dead

I must write about an exchange.

Prisoners for Prisoners, bodies for bodies…these are natural exchanges between enemies.

Prisoners for bodies is something I cannot stomach.

This is a difficult subject to present. Not because of its controversial nature…to most, the morality of this subject, or lack thereof, is plain. And not because of its complexity. The facts are also plain. No, this is difficult to write because it is a subject about which it is nearly impossible to speak dispassionately. Hopefully the sources and translations will speak for themselves.

The bodies of two Israeli soldiers were returned to Israel, as Hizbullah received five live prisoners in exchange. The bodies of 199 militants were also promised as part of the exchange. The most prominent of the prisoners returned to Hizbullah is Samir Quntar. Quntar is the most infamous of those being released because he shot an Israeli man, Dani Haran, in front of his four-year-old daughter, and then killed the girl by repeatedly striking her in the head. Haran’s wife apparently hid and their second child was killed as the mother tried to smother the child’s cries, so they could both remain hidden. I am trying to use the coldest language possible to describe this information, lest I be accused of “inciting emotions.”

Now, putting aside the “lop-sided exchange,” as it was stated in one paper, I want to focus on the reactions.

Al-Jazeera dutifully reported both sides of the story. (In this case that means both sides of the border):

In Lebanon there was celebration at the return of the five prisoners and a hero’s welcome for Quntar*.

In Israel there was mourning, as the families, and the nation, were finally able to bury their dead.

The Al-Jazeera article about Israel described the funeral and the national mourning, with half the article dedicated to reporting the medical examinations, which were conducted in order to prove who they were, and to determine how they died. The article states that “the examiners found difficulty in examining the bodies because they had not been preserved in freezers and they were in a progressed state of disintegration.”

My automatic reaction when I read any article is to go to the bottom and see what the reading public had to say. Al-Jazeera draws its viewers and its readership from all over the Arab world. Disappointingly, many of the reader’s comments were too hateful to warrant translation, but I will offer a few examples.

“With a quick look at the developments we see that the strategy which Hizbullah employed is sound and effective and simply requires patience and prior knowledge of what is needed. So it is a lesson to us Arabs in how to face against [the enemy]”.

Another says:

“God greet the heroes of Hizbullah who freed those men who are of the Arab people and the Islamic people.”

Some quotes are just religious rhetoric immediately followed by congratulations to Hizbullah and “the resistance” (generally referring to Hamas and such groups). 

Another reader directed his comments towards Israelis: “God willing all your days will be sad, and it brings me great joy when I see you all at a funeral.”*

Another simply says “Death to America and Israel” and describes the judgment that will be brought on them.

Out of nearly 30 commentaries that are currently posted for the article, I only saw one, which stood in sharp contrast to the rest.

“Look you Arabs how the leaders treat just one soldier. If it had been an Egyptian, or a Jordanian, or a Syrian or a Saudi soldier, would their country have launched a war for their sake? Or have conducted a funeral such as Israel did? When will the Arabs learn from their enemy the meaning of respect for a citizen…”

The President of the Republic of Lebanon, Mishal Sulayman was present to greet the released prisoners, as were other representatives of various official political factions in Lebanon. Perhaps this is one of the most troubling results of this situation and yet it will likely be viewed as peripheral information, if it is noticed at all.

Again, to make it very clear: The President of Lebanon was present to greet the return of the prisoners, one of whom killed a father in front of his daughter, and then brutally killed the girl. This criminal was treated honorably, warmly and as a hero. The attendance of President Mishal Sulayman is equivalent to Lebanese government support of this man’s actions.

The article about the celebration on the Lebanese side of the fence was followed by pages of congratulatory letters directed towards Nasrallah, (Leader of Hizbullah), and the “resistance”

Another stated “By God, Oh Arabs, what a victory…2 in exchange for more than 200…we congratulate you on this accomplishment, oh Arabs.”

One reader seemed suspicious of the absurdity of Israel’s concessions and speculated that there was some other strategy afoot.

Whether there is some grand plan or idea, I don’t know. But the whole thing boils down to this: One country gave up more than it perhaps ought to have in order to return the bodies of loved ones to their families and to show them that their country had not forgotten them. The other country received, in return, 199 bodies and five prisoners, at least one of whom was not imprisoned on any overlookable charge: killing a child. Not with a bomb, and she happened to be nearby...but in brutal close-hand fashion. This is a quote from Samir Quntar himself:

“I did not come to Lebanon except to return to Palestine.” He expresses that the greatest wish of all for himself, and Hizbullah and the “resistance” is to become a martyr and that he will go on fighting.

So will Israel put bullets in the hands of their enemies in order to do right by their own dead?

I think this was perhaps an honorable-minded concession, but likewise a horrible one. I’m torn. The newspapers and the commentary sections are burning up with passages about how this was a “fantastic victory” for Hizbullah. Those who would see Israel destroyed have now concluded that Israel will give up anything and everything in exchange for ‘nothing’. That is because, to those and sadly even to many non-militants, two men is nothing…nothing but cannon fodder and food for propaganda. To Israel, however, two men are indeed something. They are citizens, soldiers, brothers, husbands, sons…they are countrymen.

The disparity in the numbers of the exchange equals the disparity in mindset of the two sides of this exchange.

As Israelis mourn and finally have a chance to pay respects to their lost loved ones, Eldad Regev and Udi Goldwasser, Hizbullah, and any who look to them for their opinions, rejoice and swear on it as a victory on the battlefield.

*Quntar was later given an award by the Syrian President. I hope that most Lebanese and Syrians don’t actually concur with the honors accorded this man. I strongly hope that they do not. But those vocal on the Al-Jazeera Arabic commentary boards were in fierce support.

*I am aware that this is an exceedingly negative portrayal of the general Arab reaction. It bothers me too. Indeed, I am not trying to generalize. When I attended the commentary boards I expected a healthy debate and contradicting views. I must admit myself disheartened and surprised by the lack thereof.

Afterword: The points made here about a rather different situation still stand. I think the disparity in numbers is quite relevant. There are all manner of peripheral connotations which could be discussed (social pressure, symbolism, proper concessions, political machinations) but when we talk straight numbers we’re looking at a very unusual situation. I don’t know how to end this except to pose questions: Why are these exchanges so dramatically lop-sided? What does it say about how life is viewed and valued by both sides of the exchange? Why does this leave me feeling so disconcerted?

I speak Arabic and Hebrew and have worked with and enjoyed the camaraderie of Israelis, Egyptians, Jordanians and Iraqis, and I’m not convinced as to whether or not exchanges like this represent progress. Part of me want to praise it--the willingness to give up a lot for what seems like very little (but surely it isn't little)--but I am still troubled by what is signified in the huge numerical gaps. It bespeaks other, more troublesome gaps.

An Angle on Things

‘And now for something completely different!’

And today that thing is Al-Jazeera!

Perhaps I’ll offer a brief explanation of the thing itself and the whys and wherefores of my discussing it. First off, Al-Jazeera has several ‘talk-shows’ (you know the type) which turn into nice, raucous debates. Sometimes you can tell that they invited a certain person to talk on the show just so they can rip them to shreds. That’s the nature of these kinds of news shows, I think.

An example: One of my favorite Iraqi leaders is Rafi Al-Issawi. He’s not a perfect guy—certainly no politician is—but he is a doctor by trade, he’s from Al-Anbar province (of which I am particularly fond) and while there’s precious little to be found about him in English (Here are a few tit-bits), he was interviewed on one of these talk-shows (بلا حدود) and it was CLEAR AS DAY that they had him on the show only to deride him. Because Egyptians know more about Iraq than Iraqis?? Because they wanted him to deride his country, give it up for lost, and let it careen back into turmoil?? It made me livid.

I disagree with Al-Jazeera a lot. But I don’t give up on it. It’s a great resource. And one of my favorite things is to see the huge gaps between media sources.

Another example: Once upon a time, there was a great kerfuffle near the dome of the rock (once upon many times, actually, but this is a specific one). There were riots. There were cops. It was decidedly a thing. I was having a really hard time understanding what had happened. So I tried a little experiment.

I read an article from and English-written “Western” resource. Then I read one from an Israeli newspaper. And a third from Al-Jazeera.

It was as though each article represented a completely different event! Now, I’ll admit, the western article was safely straddling the fence, but that also does not equate to accuracy. I swear, getting the news downright requires triangulating skills. And how many people have the time or desire to effectively triangulate the facts. It ain’t easy. But a couple solid angles give a more accurate reading. Triangulation—the geographical kind—most literally lets you know where you stand in relation to something else. Or where something else stands in relation to you. Both.

(A side note: I find it interesting that triangulation requires “one known side and two known angles” to determine the third, because in ‘news triangulation’, you have at least two angles and ten-to-one you have a known side: the side you actually favor. Don’t lie. Even if it’s 51% vs 49% you have one. Call it an over-the-top metaphor, but I’m sticking with it.)

ALL OF THAT TO SAY: I get some interesting things out of Al-Jazeera (and other Arabic news sources) well beyond the actual news pieces. Which are also important.

Interesting fact # 1: English vs. Arabic

-This both tickles me pink and makes me blazing mad. The English Al-Jazeera is frequented by English speakers and the Arabic Al-Jazeera by Arabic speakers, as makes sense. Different audiences beg different material, apparently. Etiquette changes. What is considered appropriate for one audience is deemed unpalatable for the other. The types of talk shows available are quite different.

My point? Al-Jazeera English is NOT the functional equivalent of Al-Jazeera Arabic. The former is far more diplomatic. And Al-Jazeera is not the only one who falls prey to this method of tempering and tampering based upon audience. I've seen BBC Arabic be all too careful of its wording in the English version of a given article.

Interesting fact # 2: Seems like prescience, but it’s just the fact of being local: (or) Why no one ought to have been shocked when the protests broke out in Egypt (though, yes, they did begin in Tunis).

-I was trying to listen through my old pod-casts and came across an Al-Jazeera episode and began to listen to it, only half paying attention. Suddenly I was ALL EARS. They were describing the Egyptian revolution, but in the oddest way. As though it was a theory, instead of already happening. I looked at the date. Three or four months before the revolution. It wasn’t just brewing. It was a foregone conclusion. (Also interesting was the unusual amount of blame being placed on the Coptic Christians, but that’s another matter.)

Point? Looking at social trends from these angles make “shocking” events about as shocking as rain-clouds producing rain.

Interesting fact # 3: Commentary as the REAL story

-Reading the article? Important. Reading the subscriber/viewer/reader commentary? Whole different ball-game. Here’s where all the emotion, the personal stories, and all the rhetoric comes out. Some of it is thoughtful and poignant…some of it pure vitriol…and some of it simply nonsense (like any commentary board). But at the end of the day, those are the opinions of people who get their news from Al-Jazeera, and those opinions are worth knowing. Some of it is shocking…might scandalize English-reading eyes. Thing is…how people feel about an event or incident can influence its long-term meaning in the public eye--not, mind you, the actual facts--but certainly their broad perception. Sometimes it even overtakes the facts.

Interesting fact # 4: Gaps speak LOUDLY

Al-Jazeera has not broadcasted talk-shows from Egypt since February. I cannot express how disturbing this is. One of their most interesting talk shows (the one that tried it's hardest to riddle Al-Issawi with holes) appears to no longer exist. This is telling and worrisome. It’s not in the news every minute anymore, but Egypt is not well. They’ve gone from a problematic ‘hereditary presidency’-type government, to military junta, now to the realization of the (unsurprising) fact that the only other well-established organization to present itself—now that the other has been swept away—is the Muslim Brotherhood. The protests may have been faintly interfaith, but the results may well not be.

If the most well-known media source in the Arab world is no longer able to broadcast from the most cinema-savvy country in the Arab world we have a problem.

At any rate…this is one triangulating angles. The next post will be about another.

Ancient Dusky Rivers

My three favorite poets are John Donne (to include even his Jackish side), Pablo Neruda, and Langston Hughes. They have quite different styles, and I have certain lines that I associate with each, which somewhat encapsulate what I like about the poems of each. But today it’s Langston Hughes.

My favorite parts from my favorite poems of his are:

 “Dance!

   A night-veiled girl

   Whirls softly into a

   Circle of light

   Whirls softly…slowly,

   Like a wisp of smoke around the fire—

   And the tom-toms beat,

   And the tom-toms beat,

   And the low beating of the tom-toms

   Stirs your blood”

(Just say it out loud, you'll see why I love it)

And then the famous:

“I’ve known rivers:

 Ancient dusky rivers

 My soul has grown deep like the rivers”

And it is the later poem that concerns us here today. I am a river girl. Always have been. Used to make up songs about “bein’ born by the river in the dead of summer.” The river by which I was born is not a particularly famous or beautiful one, but it cuts through the city I grew up in and I love its bridges and its trees and the trails and streets and rail-road tracks that run on either side of it.

And surprisingly enough, for a young blood like myself from a relatively nondescript river, I too have known ancient dusky rivers. Two of the rivers mentioned in Hughes’ poem, to be precise. The Nile and the Euphrates. (I have seen the Mississippi too, but I don’t think I can claim the same level of acquaintance there).

When I first met those two most famous of rivers, I was as giddy as a school-girl, I can tell you. Luckily I was able to talk to each in its native tongue and we got on well. I think they understood that I was a river type.

Sadly I’m not much of a picture taker, and I don’t know what happened to the pictures I think I may have taken of the Euphrates. Suffice it to say, the circumstances of my meeting the Euphrates were unusual and all I can put here is a photograph of Western Iraq at a distance from the river

And what happens when you’re near the river

The latter I took from the roof, and yes those are sunflowers. This is why I love rivers. This is why rivers aren’t just pretty and fun to swim in. This is why they are metaphors for life and flourishing in the Bible and almost everywhere else.

Now don’t misunderstand. I love (LOVE) the desert. All kinds of deserts. But there is a reason that Isaiah (43:19) talks about “a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland.” Civilizations and great cities blossom beside rivers.

When I think of these rivers I think of what Iraqi poet, Shawqi ‘Abd Al-Amir, said in his book (يوم في بغداد). He’s actually speaking of the Tigris here, but the Tigris and the Euphrates belong to each other, so roll with it:

“You had to look for the river within a river in order to recognize it, and in some parts you could cross it on foot, being afterwards forced to disbelieve yourself that this ditch beneath your feet is, in fact, the Tigris...that river which divided history into two halves and upon whose banks stood an Empire, embracing the rising and the setting of the sun underneath its two edges.”

(translation mine and, therefore, not perfect. It did not go easily into English. It put up a fight to stay in Arabic. And yes, it is also a sad quote. The Nile has also shrunk a great deal.)

Now when I crossed the Nile for the first time, I was in deep awe of how long this river has supported civilization. You strange, fascinating, grand, much-storied, up-going river!

What once supported this:

Now supports this:

I believe my sister took both of these and to give her credit, and since I don’t think she’d mind being posted as I would:

I suppose I’ve elaborated sufficiently but just one more little thing. Another river which is great and ancient and significant: The Jordan. I don’t have a picture of it, but I have one (again not taken by me, but by my mom. I am not the one who takes pictures in this family) of its tributaries: The Dan, taken at the lovely Kibbutz Dafna:

Now you would think that these many legendary rivers would ruin my own river for me. They don't. It just makes me glad I was born by one. And having moved half-way across the country, I live by one still. Can hardly help it. That’s where cities spring up.

“There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God, the holy place where the Most High dwells”

(Psalm 46:4)