Wednesday 2 December 2009

ايام لم تفت


التقويم القندري



إنني لست من عشاق التلفزيون و قلما اشاهد برامجه او نشراته. لا اشارك فيها ولا اتتبعها. ولهذا كثيرا ما اجد نفسي ضائعا بين مفرداتها. ومن ذلك أن زميلي الفنان نوري مجيد ذكرا لي شيئا عما يجري في منطقتنا . قلت له واين سمعت بذلك قال في القنوات. قلت ماذا تعني بالقنوات؟ أي قنوات؟ قنوات المجاري؟ تدخلت الزميلة صديقة قالت ما سامع ؟ يعني الفضائيات مثل البغدادية .
- البغدادية؟ هل هذه مسلسلة غرامية؟
عاد الزميل لينير لي طريقي فقال: هذي هي المحطة التلفزيونية التي كان ،
اومازال يشتغل فيها منتظر الزيدي.
- آسف ! لكن منو هو هذا ، الزيدي والا الزبيدي.."
- هذا التلفزيوني الشاب الذي ضرب بقندرته الرئيس بوش في بغداد.
- اوه! الآن ابتدأت افهم.
اصبح قذف جورج بوش بقندرة الزبيدي من الأحداث التي تذكرنا و تنير لنا طريقنا في فهم كثير من الأحداث الاخرى. وهذا ما جرى لي عندما رحت أعاتب احد اصدقائي على عدم جوابه على رسالة لي. قال بل اجبتك عليها. و اتذكر تماما ذلك، لأنني وضعت الجواب في صندوق البريد في اليوم الذي ضرب فيه منتظر الزيدي جورج بوش بالقندرة. اتذكر ذلك تماما. وكيف انساه.
و الظاهر الآن ان كثيرا من الناس اخذوا يؤرخون اعمالهم و مواعيدهم بقندرة الزيدي و قذفها على جورج بوش. اسمعهم يقولون ابن عمي محمود تزوج بعد اسبوعين من يوم ما ضرب منتظر جورج بوش بالقندرة. و تسأل صبيا يبيع فلافل في دمياط عن عمره فيقول و الله يا استاذ ما اعرفشي و لكن امي تقول اني ولدت بعد سنتين من يوم ما ضرب الواد العراقي منتظر الخواجة الامريكي بالكندرة. و يتجادل القوم و يتصايحون عن مجزرة غزة ، هل وقعت قبل او بعد ضربة بوش بالقندرة.
ويوحي لي ذلك بأنه سيأتي زمن يؤرخ فيه الباحثون و المؤرخون احداث البلاد العربية و الاسلامية برمتها بالإشارة الى ذلك اليوم. يقولون مثلا انه تم إطلاق سراح المزرحي بعد سنتين من ضرب جورج بوش بالقندرة . و يذكرون ان كاظم الساهر غنى "عبرت الشط عالمودك" قبل عشرين سنة من ضربة بوش بالقندرة.
و تمر الأيام و تمضي الأعوام و القرون و يفتح احفادنا كتب التاريخ والآثار فيقرؤن ان بغداد كانت مدينة مزدهرة ذات مجد تليد حتى اساء القوم إدارتها فغضب الله عليها و سلط عليها عواصف ترابية عرفت بالعجة فاندثرت تحت التراب و انمحى ذكرها حتى جاء منقبون يهود من اسرائيل و اكتشفوا موقعها بعد تسعمائة سنة من ضربة بوش بالقندرة. وجدوها بجانب نهر جاف كان يدعى نهر دجلة . وهي تسمية اطلقتها عليه اقوام انقرضت بعد مائتي سنة من ضربة القندرة عرفت انثروبولوجيا بالعرب. انقرضت لعجزها عن التطور كبقية الاحياء.
و هكذا سيظهر تقويم جديد لا شمي ولا قمري و إنما قندراتي، ينسب كل شيء الى قندرة الزيدي. فيقال انه تم اكتشاف قارة استراليا قبل مائتي سنة من ضربة بوش بالقندرة، و تسأل زميلك عن سقوط غرناطة فيقول و الله لا اعرف ذلك بالتاريخ الميلادي ولكن بالتاريخ القندري جرى ذلك قبل 1516 قندرة .

ايام فاتت

Wednesday 5 August 2009

لغوة و لغويات

من مطبات اللغة

يا ما و ياما وقع به الناس من مآزق و سوء فهم بسبب استعمال لغة اخرى. روت لي الليدي اليزابث ونديم عن محنتها عندماعملت كموظفة في السفارة البريطانية في الخرطوم. كانت الليدي ويندم على درجة كبيرة من الحسن و بداعة الجسم. اثارت بجاذبيتها الرئيس السوداني عندئذ فحاول مراودتها اثناء الرقص معها. طرح عليها الالتقاء في موعد غرامي. اعتذرت. بيد ان سحرها ظل يستأسر بقلبه فكرر المحاولة. و هنا حاولت ان تضع حدا للموضوع فقالت له No! period
استعمال امريكي يعني بين الكتاب ما يعنيه عندنا قولنا للسكرتيرة " نقطة راس السطر" ، اي نهاية الفقرة او الفصل، اي اغلق الموضوع . غير ان للكلمة معنى آخر في الانكليزية يعني العادة الشهرية للمرأة. وهو ما فهمه الرئيس السوداني منها. فقرر تأجيل الموضوع حتى تنتهي من عادتها. و بالفعل عاد بعد بضعة ايام فكرر الدعوة بالتلفون. و كررت هي اعتذارها بنفس الكلمتين. قال لنفسه: يا مسكينة! تحتاج كل هالأيام حتى تخلص من عادتها." امهلها اسبوعا آخر وكرر الكلام. و كررت الاعتذار. قال لها: " الله! يعني ايه؟ عادتك تحتاج شهر؟"
و في مقابل ذلك حدثني السير جيمس غريك عن ورطته عندما كان سفيرا لبلاده في دمشق. سعى لعقد اتفاقية بين البلدين و بالفعل نجح في تحقيق ذلك و حدد موعد لزيارة وزير الخارجية البريطاني الى سوريا للآلتقاء برئيس الجمهورية و توقيع الاتفاقية. بيد ان تطورات سياسية في المنطقة اثارت إشاعة بأن الرئيس السوري لن يستقبل الوزير البريطاني او يمرر الاتفاقية. قلق السير جيمس من ذلك و عمد الى ارسال كلمة سريعة لمكتب الرئيس يطلب فيها لقاء سريعا معه, و لكنه كمستعرب ملم باللغة العربية شاء ان يستعرض معرفته بها فبعث الرسالة باللغة العربية و بخطه الجميل ليقول: " انا متهيج جدا. و لابد لي ان اجامع سيادة الرئيس فورا!" لحسن الحظ كان مدير مكتب الرآسة شابا ذكيا واعيا ( وهو نادر) فأدرك ان ما كان يقصده السفير البريطاني هو " انا مرتبك جدا ولا بد لي ان اجتمع بالرئيس فورا."
الحمد لله لم تنفجر ازمة بين البلدين و تمت الاتفاقية بدون مجامعة الرئيس.
اننا بدون شك مهووسون بالجنس. و الظاهر ان هذا الهوس اوقعنا في كثير من المطبات باستعمالنا لكلمة " نيك". يعبر اهل جنوب العراق عن فكرة الانتظار بقولهم " يتنى" بمعنى يستنى. زار الدكتور زكي مبارك مدينة النجف عند وجوده في العراق و رتب موعدا للآلتقاء بالشاعر الشيخ علي الشرقي. بيد ان ارتباكا في التوقيت حال دون اجتماعهما. التقى الشيخ بالكاتب المصري فعاتبه على تخلفه عن الموعد قائلا: " والله يا دكتور، انا كنت في البيت قاعد اتناك و اتناك ساعتين بالتمام و انا اتناك و انت ماكو."
و " يتمنيك" عند التوانسة يعني يتمازح ويتداعب. حاول المنجي سليم مداعبة السيدة وسيلة ، زوجة الرئيس التونسي، فالتفتت الى زوجها امام حشود الضيوف العرب و الدبلوماسيين الاجانب و قالت " شايف يا الحبيب كيف المنجي يتمنيك علي!"
لأخواننا التونسيين مشاكل مع اللغة العربية. وقف الحبيب بورقية يخطب بالجمهور ذات يوم و قال: " سنسعى الى النهوض بتونس بكل وسيلة." فانفجر جموع الشعب بالهتاف : " تعيش وسيلة! ... تعيش وسيلة!"
عينت الحكومة العراقية صديقي الدبلوماسي اقبال الفلوجي لمرافقة الرئيس سكو توري اثناء زيارته لبغداد. و استضافته بقصر الزهور الملكي. ذهب الرئيس عبد السلام عارف، صاحب انقلاب 1958، لزيارته و معه صاحبنا ليترجم له. كان فيما قاله للزعيم الافريقي ، انظر الى هذا القصر! انا كنت المسؤول عن حراسته. لاحظ ان المترجم لم يترجم هذه الكلمة. فقال له : " ليش ما ترجمت هذا؟ قل له انا كنت المسؤول عن حراسة هذا القصر!" فأجابه قائلا" سيادة الرئيس احسن ان ما اترجم ذلك . لأنه سيقول " حاميها حراميها!"
ابتسم الرئيس عارف و قال" ملعون! انت حقيقة دبلوماسي بارع و تعرف شغلك!"

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Tuesday 4 August 2009

عاهرات في خدمة الوطن

على حساب الحكومة

يظهر ان الله تعالى قد قدر المعاناة على كل من يسكن في العراق. لألوف السنين عانى العراقيون من فيضانات دجلة و الفرات. و ما من شيء اثر على نفسية الشعب العراقي كفيضان النهر و شرب العرق. و لكنهم استطاعوا اخيرا السيطرة على مياه الرافدين مع الشكر لجيرانهم الذين سرقوا ماءهم. تخلصوا من هذه المشكلة و إذا بهم يواجهون اليوم مشكلة اكبر بالعواصف الترابية ، الطوز، التي اخذت تخيم على مدنهم بكرم و سخاء ولا يدرون كيف يتخلصون منها فجيرانهم لا يريدون اخذ الطوز منهم.
ما كان يحل موسم الربيع حتى يصبح موضوع الفيضان حديث الساعة. كانت ايام خير و الناس يفكرون بالماء الذي يهددهم و ليس بالقنابل التي تقتلهم كما في هذه الأيام.
داهمهم فيضان رهيب في الثلاثينات بحيث استطاعت مياه دجلة فتح ثغرة في سدة ناظم باشا من ناحية الوزيرية وهددت المياه المتدفقة بإغراق العاصمة العراقية بكل سجونها و مباغيها و قصورها الملكية.
اتصل امين العاصمة فورا بمعاون شرطة السراي و طلب منه اختطاف اي مواطنين يجدهم في الشارع و تسخيرهم جبرا لسد الثغرة. هذا ما كنا نسميه بالسخرة بلهجة يهود بغداد والصخرة بلهجة أهل دربونة العجم الذين لم يتقن سكانها بعد اللغة العربية. اسقط بيد معاون الشرطة. فقد كان الوقت قد تجاوز منتصف الليل و آوى الناس الى بيوتهم . احتضنوا نساءهم و ناموا. من اين يأتي بالرجال لعملية السخرة؟
ظل يفكر بالأمر حتى اوحى له الباري عز وجل بهذه الفكرة. المكان الوحيد الذي يعج بالناس و النشاط في بغداد في تلك الساعات المتأخرة من الليل كان محلة الكلجية ، المبغى العام في الميدان.
اخذ مجموعة من الشرطة معه و داهم الكلجية لعمل خيرلا إثم فيه. خطفوا كل من وجدوه من رجال اشداء ، الزبائن، و النساء العاملات هناك. سمعت بأن العريف خلف ، انتزع رجلا من فوق المرأة التي كان يجامعها و اخذه بالفانيلة و دون لباس قبل ان يكمل فعلته. راح الرجل يولول و يتذمر: " يا جماعة هذي عدالة؟ يعني واحد ما يخلوه يفرغ مثل الأوادم! هذي حكومة!؟... وين وصلنا؟"
جروه و اخذوه مصلخ و القوا به في اللوري. فيضان دجلة لا يعرف الانتظار و لا يبالي بمن كان ينيك و من كان يصلي. يجرفهم جميعا.
اسرعت اللوريات المحملة بالصرمبارية و قحاب الكلجية الى محل الثغرة التي كسرها التيار. لاحظ الجرخجي ، او الحارس الليلي، في باب المعظم هذه الشاحنات المحملة بالقحاب فلم يتملك نفسه. " الله اكبر! يعني حتى القحاب ياخذوهم من عندنا؟ ما ادري وين نولي وين نروح!" و اخيرا توقفت الشاحنتان عند سدة ناظم باشا و انزلوا ركابها من نساء و رجال. و هناك وجدوا الفؤوس و المساحي و اكياس الجنفاص في انتظارهم. انهمكوا في العمل بجد و نشاط لإنقاذ مدينتهم الحضارية، مدينة المنصور و هرون الرشيد. الرجال يحفرون و يملأون الاكياس بالتراب و القحاب يحملن الأكياس على ظهورهن المرهقة لألقائها في الثغرة، وهن يغنين لشد عزيمتهن : " بالك تدوس على الورد و تسوي خلة...خلة "
ما ان دوي الأذان من منائر بغداد لصلاة الفجر حتى كانت هذه المجموعة من السخرة قد انجزوا عملهم و سدوا الثغرة بإحكام و انقذوا العاصمة من المصير المخيف. رفع معاون شرطة السراي سماعة التلفون ليخبر امين العاصمة بأن كل شيء على ما يرام و اعلمه بما بذله صرمبارية بغداد و قحاب الكلجية من مجهود مشكور في حماية بلدهم .
" اشكرهم بالنيابة عني و عن كل الحكومة و قل لهم بارك الله فيكم و كثر من امثالكم."
قال، ثم امره بإعادتهم الى مكانهم في الكلجية مع إعلام كل من كانوا من الرجال ، تقديرا لجهودهم و مكافأة لعملهم ، بأن لهم ان ينيكوا كل من يشاؤن من النساء في تلك الليلة و كله على حساب الحكومة.

Harlots & Patriots

AT GOVERNMENT EXPENCE

It seems to me that when God had created the world in six days, he ordained that misery would be and remain the lot of the Mesopotamian inhabitants. For thousands of years, they suffered the terrible flooding of the twin rivers, the Tigris and the Euphrates. Nothing has affected the mind of the Iraqis like the annual flooding and the daily drinking of Araq. However, the danger of the twin rivers waters receded recently by the intervention of the brotherly neighbouring nations who stole Iraq’s waters by building up mighty dams which reduced the two rivers to a trickle. But the perennial affliction of the flood is now replaced by permanent storms of dust. None of their neighbours, not even Israel, showed any interest in that . But God has kept his word.
Spring time was always flood time. People stop talking politics and reciting poetry and talk about nothing other the topical subject of the water, how high did it rise today, how far would it go and when would they start mobilising conscript labour to support the dams. Such an emergency arose in the thirties when the angry Tigris broke the embankment at al-Waziria, north of Baghdad and started to pour muddy water, brown like a stale coffee, into the Waziria streets, threatening to drown the whole city with all its public buildings, royal palaces and old brothels and cabarets.

The officer in charge of the Sray police station received an unexpected call from the Mayer of Baghdad.’ Captain Hamid, please wake up! The river has broken into the city.We need conscript volunteers to stop it. This is emergency. Hurry up and do everything possible to bring men and save the city.’
It was past midnight and all the streets were deserted. Where could he find such men? He fretted for a few moments until he received this revelation from the Almighty God: ‘ Remember thou all the sinners of Kallachia , the fallen women and their wicked clients.’ Captain Hamid put on his hat and gathered a dozen policemen, supplied them with heavy batons and rushed in two lorries to the main red lights district of Baghdad. The old and famous brothel, with history of venality extending to the days of the Moguls , was collection of narrow lanes in the centre of the city, better known as al-Midan. The officer was quite right when he divined that it was truly the only area of Baghdad where you could find crowds of able men and women milling around, well into the small hours of the morning.
The police grabbed any customer or prostitute they found and hurled them into the lorries. Some of them went into the houses and gathered more people. One gentleman was physically lifted, quite naked with nothing on other than his vest, from the top of his woman, cursing and swearing, ‘ What country is this? A man is not even allowed to eject peacefully.’
As the loaded lorries passed by Bab al-Muaddam with the women singing and chanting, the night watchman at the point murmured painfully, ‘ What is this? Taking our prostitutes away? What next?!’ The vehicles sped on along King Ghazi Street before turning left to the broken embankment where another officer handed the men spades and shovels to dig up earth and fill the canvas bags which the women carried then on their weary backs to dump on the gap. The hard work went on for nearly three hours. But by the time the call for the dawn prayers was heard from the minaret of the Waziria Mosque, the gap was successfully filled in and the city of Harun al- Rashid was saved. The conscript labourers were utterly exhausted. So much was conveyed to the Mayor when Captain Hamid rang him to inform him of his achievement and his resourcefulness and the good work done magnificently by the men and women.
‘ The people of Baghdad will never forget what they have done. Thank them on my behalf and on behaf of the whole government.’ said the Mayor to Captain Hamd, He paused for a moment and then added,
‘ In appreciation of all this good work they did, tell the men they can fuck any of the women they fancy , and all at government expense.’
oooooooooooooooooo

Books by Kishtainy

في مكتبة دار الحكمة بلندن

تستطيع الحصول على بعض مؤلفات خالد القشطيني
من مكتبة دار الحكمة او مكتبة الساقي في لندن :
من جد لم يجد: رواية ساخرة تروي محاولة شيوعي
مفصول إعادة بناء حياته في عهد صدام حسين.
حكايات من بغداد القديمة – انا و جدتي : رواية
فكاهية تصور حياة طفل في بغداد الثلاثينات.
من شارع الرشيد الى اكسفورد ستريت: قصص
قصيرة فكاهية.
ما قيل و ما يقول: قصص قصيرة ممعنة بالجرأة
و السخرية.
تأملات في الديمقراطية، بحث يعالج مشاكل تطبيق
الديمقراطية.
على ضفاف بابل: رواية عاطفية ملحمية تعالج
ظاهرة غسل العار و تصور حياة الطائفة
اليهودية في العراق.
ايام عراقية: ذكريات عن الحياة في العراق
ايام فاتت : صفحات من تاريخ العراق الحديث
الشعراء في اخوانياتهم
Dar al-Hikma
88 Chalton St.
London, NW1 1HJ
Tel: 020 7383 4037

Short Story

THE HANDKERCHIEF

It is most understandable for any woman, of good and ill breeding alike, to refuse to listen to any explanation from her husband for the shocking discovery of a lady's perfumed handkerchief in his underpants whilst taking off his trousers in front of her and her children. 'Don't dear me!' repeated Mrs. Harrington every time her husband tried to open his mouth with 'Listen my dear...'
'You should be ashamed of yourself. Act your age, the Managing Director of Royal Deodorants Consolidation, mixing with Middle East whores! Look at this,' she said to her city gentleman of a husband, pointing to the Arabic inscription on the handkerchief, 'A dirty Arab prostitute! A busy committee meeting with a prostitute every Thursday evening!'
'But listen my dear. I really don't know whether she was Arab or Persian, what ...'
'No, you don't know,' she interrupted him for the tenth time, 'You don't even know where she comes from. You don't care! Anything in a skirt!'
Just when the respectable Mr. Harrington was about to resume his unfinished sentence, there was another outburst from his wife: 'Christ! Who is this grinning, blood curdling vampire? Who is he? Homosexuality - I've always suspected it. My God!' The unsuspecting woman thrust the lace handkerchief into Mr. Harrington's hands revealing the printed picture on its corner, and started to sob.
Little did any of them know the full story of this little piece of white material on its long hazardous journey across mountains and seas on its way to Mr. Harrington's underpants, or the part which it hd played in the rich history of Babylon in earlier days when children used to play and not simply sit around and watch the grown-ups play, when men were men and shaved their pubic hair and not their beards and moustaches, and when tailors fixed buttons to men's trousers instead of the erratic fly zippers. That was a time when the sole Leader was first released from his sealed bottle with the magic formula of 'Hey! coup d' etat!', three times repeated by three senior officers of a tanks brigade at the first crow of a cock, and proceeded to fill the earth and skies of Babylon with his portraits. Anything prohibited became instantly permitted merely by the judicious addition of the Leader's portrait; anything barred from importing into the land was allowed as long as it carried the picture of the Leader. Bubble gum for the kids, false teeth for the old, American stockings for the women, steel crutches for the cripples were all given import licenses free from all customs duties as long as they carried the portrait of the Leader printed on them with a suitable caption of praise and adoration.
This gentle device of getting around the law saved many business houses from the destruction of the protection decrees. Ali Chalabi, an importer of foreign garments and lingerie, had his application for Hong Kong made socks granted in full just by incorporating the Leader's image into the pattern of the socks. When the Leader examined his petition, he scribbled in the margin the question: 'Where will he put my picture?' Ali Chalabi simply replied to the sole Leader, 'Of course on the sole.' And the sole Leader put his signature, 'To be granted.' The purchase of these socks was then made compulsory throughout the Armed Forces, prisons, orphanages and mental asylums.
Inspired by such an encouraging appreciation from the Government, Ali Chalabi went on to import ladies' handkerchiefs and men's silk ties with the same decorative motive. Mrs. Hana al-Wasily, the President of the Revolutionary Women's Federation, announced that November woman would be admitted to the membership of the Revolutionary Federation without buying at least one lace handkerchief from Mr. Chalabi's merchandise. As November woman in Iraq could find any employment without the Revolutionary Federation's card, the announcement amounted to an order that November woman should be given any job without carrying Mr. Chalabi's handkerchief.
'How dare you!' shouted Mrs. Hana al-Wasily at her secretary one day as she sneezed all over her desk and her new fur, 'How dare you produce in my presence an ordinary miserable handkerchief! Where is your Leader's handkerchief?' The poor girl panicked, stammered and could only say with a broken voice, 'But ... but do you want me to spit at his image every time I cough?'
Mrs, Wasily found the question really perplexing and could only point to the door and dismiss the unhappy secretary. After ten minutes of painful thought, she reached the conclusion that this was going to be another bad day and, succumbing to this realisation, she opened her handbag and took two Valium tablets.
However, on further consultations and committee deliberations, it was resolved that every member of the Revolutionary Woman's Federation should carry two handkerchiefs, one with the picture of the Leader as a sign of love and devotion, and one plain for the purpose of spitting. It was also resolved that Mr. Ali Chalabi should be given another license to import a second consignment of plain handkerchiefs.
Upon hearing of this new revolutionary measure, the sole leader invited Mrs. Wasily and all serving members of the Executive Committee of the Revolutionary Women's Federation, together with the young secretary who sneezed, Miss Wahida Said. They were met by all the top brass of the Armed Forces in an extended reception in which the Leader delivered another speech on the imperialist conspiracies hatched against the Republic and the vigilance of the people exemplified by young Wahida Said in her intelligent stance. A young officer with the rank of captain then stepped forward and presented Miss Said with a small box, but elaborately decorated, containing a lace handkerchief embroidered in real gold with the portrait of the Leader. With tears in her eyes, Miss Said lifted the handkerchief carefully like a precious piece of old papyrus and exhibited it to her colleagues, upon which everybody, including the Leader, said 'Ah!' The whole occasion was then televised and recorded for posterity.
'This is the most precious thing a woman can have in all her life,' said Mrs. Wasily to her young secretary. 'The Leader's handkerchief, presented by the Leader himself. You must be very careful with it. The agents of imperialism will simply mug you and rob you of it.' But Wahida was not short of advisers on this point as everybody turned to become an old uncle or an old aunt to her: You mustn't wash it, you should only send it to the dry cleaners; have you insured it? For how much was it valued? Be careful when you get it out of your handbag!
The handkerchief itself was some eight inches by eight with another inch of intricate lace, with all the edging made in gold. In the left corner, there was the emblem of the Republic, in the right corner, the head of the sole Leader with one blotch for hair, another for mouth and two round ones for eyes. The mouth looked more like a baby lizard not knowing where to go and the eyes wee those of a hopeless boxer who had just received two mighty punches on both of them. But taken together with the two shrivelled ears and the square jaw, they somewhat imparted a feeling of fear and rancour. Still, all the girls agreed that the image was undoubtedly that of the Leader. November one could mistake it. Just under the portrait, a slogan was inscribed in Arabic: 'Who dares speaks.'
The Revolutionary Women's Federation organised a hectic programme for Miss Wahida Said to visit almost every town and city in Iraq, escorted by the leaders of the Federation to demonstrate the devotion to the Leader as the feminist version of true patriotism. After every speech from Mrs. Wasily, Wahida exhibited her handkerchief, which was then met with resounding applause and loud soprano cheers. Wahida was then showered with flowers, in and out of season, and lauded with gifts ranging from the native dates, which had become so scarce in the market, to Palmolive soap, which could only be found in officers' clubs, all presented by the provincial governors, military commanders and secret police officers disguised in uniform.
This mass appreciation of her past singular gesture cultivated in her mind a frantic attachment to the golden handkerchief which accompanied her on all her travels and assignments so much so that the people around her started to call her Miss Handkerchief, and everybody agreed that this was a better and more evocative name than the common Miss Said, which seemed to be more appropriate for ports and harbours as she soon found out during her first foreign trip to Egypt.
November women's delegation from Iraq was complete without Wahida who attended almost every international women's event from the annual dinner of the Soroptimist International to the Conference of the World Association of Hockey Clubs. Her commitments took her to Moscow, Peking, Cairo, Paris, Prague, San Francisco and finally London.
The visit to the British capital caused great excitement in the Revolutionary Women's Federation of Iraq in view of the very special place occupied by Oxford Street in the hearts and minds of the leaders of the Arab women's liberation movement. There was considerable jostling, pushing and string-pulling in the offices of the Women's Federation as soon as the intended visit was announced. 'Please, I need a new hip,' said the assistant secretary. 'They say they can fit you with a new hip in Harley Street.'
'And what about my vertebrate? Oh, the pain it's been giving me all these months!' said another.
'But none of you can speak English, so what is the use of you going to England? At least I can speak Armenian,' said the crafty Armenian chief clerk.
Almost crying in front of her typewriter, the Arabic typist simply moaned, 'As far as I am concerned, they can go to hell. I am not Wahida; I haven't got a handkerchief to take me anywhere I want.'
'I think it's becoming ridiculous. This handkerchief has become like a holy writ from the High Kadi,' whispered another typist whilst looking carefully over her shoulder.
'I wish to God she loses it.'
'Maybe someone in London will snatch her handbag. I pray to God they may.'
The arguments of the women did not finish with the selection of the visiting delegates, but continued in the airport coach, in the jumbo jet, in the Regent Palace Hotel and in the London underground. 'You've been twice to Oxford Street today, Samira, and I haven't been there at all since Monday,' said the delegate from Basrah. 'This is unfair.'
'You know,' said Mrs. Wasily to a colleague, 'You can't spend all your time in the hair removing clinic. We have some responsibilities on this tour. Who is going to speak at the meeting tomorrow?'
But Wahida was free from all this hustle and was content to spend all her time between Oxford Street and Regent Street and go back to her friends in Wimbledon Park loaded with shopping bags. After one particularly exhausting expedition, she took the Wimbledon train from the Embankment station and was immensely relieved to find an empty seat between two men. Like most of the other male passengers in the rush hour, both looked like civil servants, city brokers or business men on their way home. The one on the left of Wahida was younger and spent most of the time secretly eyeing Wahida out of the corner of his eye. The one on her right was an older gentleman, more formally dressed , who spent most of the time reading his newspaper and doing his best to shield himself from the presence of this exotic looking, foreign girl sitting dangerously close to him. For the latter purpose, he shifted his briefcase and put it by his side in the manner of an erected barrier between himself and the lady in question. Despite her scanty knowledge of English, Wahida managed to read the business card on the briefcase: 'Royal Deodorants.' Miss Said smiled faintly as she went on wondering why the Royal family of Great Britain should sell deodorants.
This over zealous curiosity on the part of Wahida Said was detected by Mr. Harrington who hastened to take additional protective measures by spreading his Daily Telegraph all around himself until he was almost completely wrapped up by its pages. Having thus made himself secure enough, his next move was to give all his thought and wordly concern to the printed columns all around him.
The train rumbled on from Victoria Station, to Sloane Square, to South Kensington, Gloucester Road and so on in its westerly direction towards Putney and Wimbledon, swallowing up more people and disgorging similar numbers at every station. To the young gentleman on her left, Wahida appeared to have suddenly lost her serenity and comfortable posture and began to grope for something, or struggle against something until the underground train, now travelling well overground, left Putney Bridge station to cross the River Thames. Whether it was due to a sudden gust of wind from the river escalating the perpetual draught so notoriously associated with London Transport and the British way of life, or as a result of the covetous eyes which the young gentleman was giving to the foreign looking female sitting by his side, Wahida Said could November longer suppress the onslaught of her old allergy and burst out in a violent fit of sneezing.
In the distracting confusion so typical of any allergic attack, Miss Said opened her handbag and desperately looked for the one most essential item for such an attack, and fished out the Leader's handkerchief, with which she covered half of her face. Having been thus confounded and kept at bay, the draught decided to alter its tactics and within the next minute made a sudden onslaught at the elegant handkerchief, snatched it from Wahida's hands, carried it off in one bout and dropped it in Mr. Harrington's lap. It settled like crumpled piece of paper with one corner stretching out exactly on top of his flies.
Blood rushed into Wahida's face and her hand dropped by her side. Her predicament of how to rescue the precious piece of material from that delicate part of a gentleman was shared by all the fellow travellers in the train. They moved their eyes, forward and backward at her, at the handkerchief, at her shopping, at the man still barricaded behind his newspaper totally oblivious of the latest development in this underground carriage, and wondered what was best to do. A little boy who was sitting on his mother's knee made a move to jump down and rescue the misplaced item for its legitimate owner, but his mother hastened to restrain him immediately and the rebellious child only gave up the struggle after hearing a few words from his mother. She bent forward towards him and whispered what seemed like magic words in his ear. He looked at the handkerchief and the place where it had settled and then at the man, and abandoned the rescue attempt with horror clearly marked on his face.
The atmosphere engulfing that end of the carriage became so tense and delicate that even the oblivious Mr. Harrington could not escape its silent demand for attention. Feeling that there was something not quite in order and that the gentlemanly act was expected of him, he lowered the newspaper a few centimetres and looked at the people on the opposite row of seats. The grinning faces were all looking in his direction and almost everyone was dying to tell him something, but were prevented by a particular air of embarrassment. As expected, Mr. Harrington's immediate reaction was to blush and shiver without understanding why, what was wrong or who was guilty of anything. A furtive look at the female passenger sitting on his left revealed a very embarrassed face and a cheek going white, yellow and red in the frenzy of hurried sequences. Like the rest of the passengers around him, she was looking in his direction, or rather in the direction of his trousers just in front of his Daily Telegraph.
Obviously, there was something wrong - perhaps something wrong with his trousers. In a terrible moment of extreme anxiety and embarrassment clearly reflected in his twitching lips, flickering eyes and shaking hands, he lifted the newspaper stealthily and cast a casual, momentary glance down at his belt. He saw the finger of a white patch of material, and wasted November time in reaching the only logical conclusion possible for any groomed gentleman facing such a sight: the tail of his clean, white shirt was sticking out of his unbuttoned flies. Quick as a flash, his left hand covered his middle with the respectable Daily Telegraph, and with his right hand he pushed the Leader's handkerchief into his private parts. Within five seconds, he resumed his former posture with the Daily Telegraph all around him, reading Peterborough's 'London Day to Day.'
Mr. Harrington was satisfied as he noticed that the former worried grins on the faces of his fellow travellers turned now to pleasant smiles mixed with a pinch of amusement like that of a theatre goer coming out of a clever performance of an Oscar Wilde play, eager to get home and tell all to the rest of the unfortunate family who missed it. Luckily for him, Mr. Harrington did not cast a second furtive look at Wahida, who was by then almost in tears.
At the next station, Mr. Harrington folded his newspaper, picked up his briefcase and left the train. And that was how the private parts of an English gentleman happened to become the final destination of the Leader's gilded portrait so dearly cherished by Miss Wahida Said and her troupe of delegates from the Revolutionary Women's Federation in Iraq.


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Saturday 13 June 2009

GOOD TO KNOW YOUR SCRIPTURE

A STUDY IN COMPARITIVE LITERATURE

An Italian monk was giving a lift to a nun after attending a religious conference. The nun was too enchanting and young, so much so that he could not help putting his hand on her thigh. After a few seconds he heard her murmuring to him Colossians 3:23. So he took his hand away. But, still he could not help the temptation. So he put his hand on her knee and rubbed it gently. The nun repeated the same: Colossians 3:23 and bowed her head down. The monk took his hand away. Two minutes later, he did the same. This time touching her breast. Once more, he heard: Colossians 3:23. He took his hand away. They arrived at the convent where the good nun alighted and bade him good night.
As soon as he reached his own monastery, he rushed to his room and picked up the Holy Bible to read and find out that particular verse and what it said.
He opened the chapter of Colossians and read the verse 3:23. It said:” Whatever you do, work at it with your whole heart, as if working for the Lord and not for man.”

On the other side of the Mediterranean, an Egyptian fellow was getting fed up with the bad cooking of his new young wife. So, he discreetly hanged in the kitchen a piece of calligraphy with the words of the Prophet Muhammad , peace be upon him. The piece said: If any of you shalt perform a task, he shalt perform the same efficiently.”
The man came back from work in the evening and went straight to the kitchen. But to his surprise, he could not find that calligraphy there at all. It was simply removed. He wondered, what happened to it. But as he and his new young wife went to bed, he found the same piece hanged over the bed.

Literacy is an important thing in life, even in a country like Egypt, where you don’t need to read and write to become a minister.
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دراسة في الأدب المقارن

تفضل راهب ايطالي بتوصيل راهبة بالسيارة الى ديرها بعد حضور مؤتمر ديني. كانت شابة في غاية الجمال بحيث لم يستطع الراهب مقاومة ذلك فوضع يده على فخذها. بعد بضع ثوان من ذلك سمعها تتمتم له: " الكلوسيان آية 3/23. فسحب يده عنها. و مع ذلك فلم يستطع مقاومة الإغراء فمد يده ثانية و مسك ركبتها و راح يفرك بها برقة. عادت الراهبة فتمتمت : كلوسيان آية 3/23 و طأطأت برأسها قليلا. سحب يده منها . و لكنه عاد بعد دقيقتين فكرر محاولة لمسها ، وهذه المرة لمسها من صدرها. مرة اخرى سمع السيدة الورعة تكرر: كلوسيان 3/23. وصلا اخيرا الى الدير و نزلت الراهبة من السيارة. و دعت القس قائلة : " انعمت مساء." و انصرفت.
واصل القس سفرته الى صومعته و اسرع لألتقاط الكتاب المقدس ليفتح ذلك الفصل و يفتش عن تلك الآية ويقرأ نصها. فعل ذلك فوجدها تقول: " مهما كنت فيه من عمل، فأنجز عملك بكل قلبك و كأنك تفعل ذلك لله و ليس للأنسان."
و على الجانب الآخر من البحر المتوسط، عانى رجل مصري من الطبخ السيء لزوجته الشابة التي تزوجها مؤخرا. بكل أدب و دون مخانقة ، علق على جدران المطبخ لوحة تحمل حديث النبي صلى الله عليه و سلم : إذا عمل احدكم عملا فليتقنه."
عاد من عمله مساء و ذهب فورا الى المطبخ و لكنه استغرب فورا من غياب اللوحة التي علقها. لم يجد لها اي اثر. راح يفكر ، ما الذي حصل لها؟ و لكنه في اواخر المساء عاد مع زوجته الى مخدع الزوجية فوجد نفس تلك اللوحة معلقة فوق السرير.
الحكمة من وراء ذلك أن القراءة و الكتابة شيء مهم حتى في بلد عربي لا يشترط فيه ان يحسن الانسان القراءة و الكتابة ليصبح وزيرا.

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Thursday 11 June 2009

KISHTAINY AWARDED

FOR LIFE TIME WORK

Khalid Kishtainy was presented The International Media Award for his life time contributions to the Press and work for peace at a ceremony organised by the International Council for Press and Broadcasting on 11 May 2009. The following is Mr. Kishtainy’s response:

This is quite a surprise for me. But as it is, I want to give a warning to the organisers.
A few months ago a foreign businessman asked me on his first visit to London. He said to me “Khalid, what is this MAT . GBT, DDT? What is this? I said, I don’t know. What is it? How did you come across that? What was the occasion?
He said that he was spending a night with a woman for an agreed price of £500. In the morning, he gave her her breakfast and counted the money for her. She put the money in her handbag and then turned to him and asked him for a further sum of seventy six pounds and fifty pence. “ What is this for?” My friend asked her. She replied this is for MAT, GBT, DDT ... Something like that.
I said “ Oh she meant VAT. She was charging you VAT.”
‘ And what is this?’ My friend asked.
‘ This is a tax in England for Value Added.’
The man went pensive for a few moments, wondering what was the value added she gave him, or he gave her. I did not know him well to ask him what went on between him and the lady in question during that night to assess the matter properly. But it was certainly the first time I heard of a VAT registered prostitute.
Now , you may ask, why am I relating this story to you? Certainly not just to entertain you. No. Not to give you an idea either about the scale of charges of a London prostitute. Some of the lady journalists here in this hall may really consider changing their jobs.
I related this story because we, Arab journalists are often described by our people as no more than semi-prostitutes. As such I want to give a warning to Mr.William Morris. Don’t be surprised if you receive from me tomorrow an invoice with the VAT charge on this award. I am a law abiding citizen. So should you be. Start by calling this award ‘ The International Media Award plus VAT.’

CATS AND DOGS

A Matter of Cats and Dog.

Habits in man and animal die hard. This obvious statement of an obvious fact may sound tedious, but consider the astonishing political consequences which often flow from such banalities, as in this present case. One of such habitual traits carried over by the Israelis from their former mediaeval life in Europe to their new home in the middle East was their horror of dogs. There is a long tradition behind that horror, going back to the days when a good Christian used to express his religious fervour by setting the local dogs upon the wandering Jew passing along the highways and byways of Christendom. The dogs, who were not allowed to take part in the newly evolved sport of tennis and football because of the prejudice of the commoners who were glad to find in the dogs a class lower than themselves, enjoyed the sport of mauling the Jewish traveller, scattering his merchandise and tearing up his gabardine. The dogs were also gratified to find somebody lower than themselves in the ordered life of the period.
Jewish fear of the dog became a logical sequence which continued in the new state of Israel. Its logic, however, began to strike a discordant note in countries with the reality of the new life and acquired some grotesque appearances, like all logical fruits out of season, and as it happened on the evening of a cold November day in 1968. This was the day of the Karama battle, a skirmish unknown to any military historian but a byword on the lips of all Arab school children, of whom a considerable proportion of both sexes have now grown up under the unhappy strain of bearing the simple name of 'Karama', and added another element to the national confusion of their country's registration offices.
On the morning of that early winter day, a unit of the Israeli Army crossed the River Jordan and occupied Karama, a little village perched on the hills to the east of the historical river. In less than two hours they demolished all the houses, killed a few score of Arabs and confiscated the Parker ball pen of the united Nations Observer. Seeing that the soldiers had begun to idle and lose morale, the commander of the attack force ordered a withdrawal and sent his Sergeant Major to inspect the improvised bridge.
'Sir', the soldier reported back, 'The tanks can cross; the armour can cross. The heavy guns can cross; the infantry cannot.' The Commander was stupefied as all commanders in the face of any unmilitary logic. The Sergeant Major went on to explain: 'Sir, there is a dog lying next to the cypress tree this side of the bridge.'
Amman Radio interrupted its martial music to give this news flash: 'Our valiant forces have encircled the enemy and cut their rear lines.' For once an Arab military communiqué bore some semblance of reality. The Israeli Commander showered his headquarters with urgent cables, and waves of Mirages went swooping down with bombs, napalm and rockets at the lonely cypress tree. After the dog had been seen, through the binoculars, going up in smoke, the infantry made a safe crossing.
Such was the true and only objective account of the Karama battle as was given by word of mouth to Miss Judy N.Penchforth by the United Nations Observer who lost his Parker pen and could not draft another UN report. Miss Penchforth was an old lady whose sympathies with the Arab cause went back to the days when she saw Colonel Lawrence riding a camel. As soon as Major Seymour O'Grady, the UN Observer, came in his story to the part of the dog and its tragic death, Miss Penchforth fainted. When she came round, she was heard murmuring, 'Hitler was right! Hitler was right!' After a glass of brandy, she walked out of the United Nations office, got hold of an Arab refugee boy limping on a crutch and started to tell him how the wicked Jews killed the innocent dog.
Miss Penchforth rushed from one government department to another in Amman repeating to everybody that tragic tale. The Arabs were stunned. Why had they been wasting their time these past twenty years talking about the suffering of the Palestinian refugees when they could have done better by talking about the plight of the dogs in the Holy Land? Everybody turned against the Information Department. The Head of that Office, who did not happen to be related to the King, was fired for inefficiency and waste of public money. The left wing press accused him of being CIA agent and swore that they were in possession of irrefutable documents supporting the claim.
A more sophisticate campaign was then planned on the basis of the dogs' plight under Zionist rule. The campaign was supported with impressive data and statistics on the Dogs' Exodus of 1948, following the foundation of the Zionist entity, the decline of the dog population in Israel and the reduction of their status to a persecuted minority in the Animal Kingdom, with even the frogs and toads ahead of them. Pictures of starving Saluki dogs, the pride and joy of the nomadic Bedouins, were sent to all political organisations in Europe and America. This was followed by an appeal to the United Nations for an investigation into the story of the ten thousand graves dug up near Tel Aviv on the eve of the June War. It was claimed that the graves were meant and were actually used for a mass burial of living dogs. In the Negev, the Demona Nuclear Centre was presented as no more than a camouflaged extermination camp with gas chambers for the hated dogs. Experts in the Arab Bureau for the Boycott of Israel went so far as to spread the rumour that Israeli toys were made from dogs' fur, and that all Jaffa oranges were fertilised with dogs' bonemeal.
All this was contrasted with the position of dogs in the Arab countries where they were treated exactly as the majority of the human population and where, the propagandists went on to assert with the facts on their side, you could hardly point your finger at any distinction between the average human life and a dog's life. In London, an exhibition was arranged in the crypt of St. Martin-in-the-Fields with an Arab dog wearing a collar of barbed wire. In front of him was placed his daily United Nations ration - a small two inch square biscuit. The legend on top read: 'Not by biscuit alone does a dog live. Help the animals of the Holy Land!'
This particular exhibition aroused the anger and disgust of the British public with their notorious weakness for animals. Thousands of men and women sent their dinner jackets and evening dresses in aid of the refugee dogs, and it was impossible to explain to the donors that dogs don't wear them. Eventually, they were sold in auctions and jumble sales organised by the Council for Justice to Animals and tons of Pal Dog Food cans were bought and sent by air to Beirut and Amman. The greedy Arab refugees ate them all and only gave them to the dogs when somebody told them that they contained pork. Now only dogs and Christian refugees eat the Pal meat.
The Arab publicists felt more than gratified all round. At last the Israeli image was really tarnished and gloom descended on Tel Aviv. Massive funds and materials started to pour into the Arab capitals from all corners of the Western world. But God is equitable in his distribution. Now it was an American tourist, a Mrs. Pointen, widow of rich nylon manufacturer from Detroit, who listened to the same tale of the unfortunate Karama dog and the terror meted out by the Israelis to Arabs and dogs alike. But Mrs. Pointen was not moved in the least. After a pause, she turned and asked with some apparent anxiety: 'And the cats too?' Mrs. Pointen happened to be a cat lover.
The intelligence agents of Israel heard the story and, realising its utmost significance, wasted no time in communicating the report to their employers. Levy Eshkol, the Prime Minister of the Jewish State, called for a cabinet meeting immediately. A statement was carefully hammered out and delivered to the international bunch of journalists. Although many dogs have left the country of their own free will, the cats have remained in Israel and their number has even increased. They and the citizens of Israel are getting on famously. Together with the official statement, Davar carried a long editorial with a photograph showing a young kibbutznik teaching a Siamese cat to swim in the Sea of Galilee.
The Arab propagandists countered without difficulty. 'Ah!' they said, 'But cats are unfaithful creatures and their allegiance is not to man but to place.' They challenged Tel Aviv to give any figures on the increased number or wellbeing of cats.
The Jewish Agency despatched its emissaries to the four corners of the diaspora with the precise slogan: 'Bring in the cats!'
The veteran David Ben Gurion lamented in his Negev retreat the unfulfilment of this decade of his life. He was let down. How could cats lead a truly cattish life outside the state of Israel? In London, the Jewish Chronicle commented that if only every Jewish family in Britain contributed just one kitten to Eretz Israel, the young state could solve all its problems and become a truly viable entity. With his long experience in the aliya and resettlement of Jewish youth during World War II, the philanthropist, Mr. Norman Bentwich, started his cat aliya.
But the leader and President of Egypt, Jamal Abdul Nasir, was not sleeping all this time. From his Muntazah Palace in Alexandria, he could hear the loud mewing disturbing the silence of the sea as the noise went up from the loaded ships steaming through the Mediterranean en route to Jaffa. At 3.30am on a cold February night, the Soviet Ambassador was awakened from his sleep. The Egyptian President wanted him on the telephone. Moscow must honour its commitments! The balance of forces was seriously disturbed. Within three days, the Illushin Transport aeroplanes went into action ferrying to Egypt heavy loads of Moscovite terriers, Volga boat bitches, Eskimo huskies and Azbikistani sheep dogs. The American mililtary experts who followed the operation closely admitted that Soviet military efficiency left nothing to be desired in that historical February dogs' air lift. If the Soviets could carry out the deployment of dogs with such ease, what would they do with mere human beings in time of war?
The Egyptians, on the other hand, showed everything that stood in contrast to the Soviet military efficiency. The customs police, seeing that the dogs carried no foreign currency with them, simply let them pass without further ceremony. The free dogs, now counted in thousands, marched straight to the great Mosque of Abu al-Abbas under the guidance of the sheep dogs from Muslim Azbikistan. There they were met by the usual crowd of native dogs waiting for alms, and a bloody battle ensued immediately. The sermon of the Friday preacher was drowned by the barking of the animals and no one could hear a syllable of the Koran. So the preacher left his pulpit and ran up the winding, spiral stairs to address the dogs from the top of the Minaret. With both arms stretched out, he shouted to the dogs, 'You are all brothers.' But his words achieved no better results than those spoken from the pulpit. The Russian dogs knew no Arabic to understand him, and the Egyptian dogs had already heard too much talking of brotherhood. The police were eventually called in and the native and foreign dogs were only separated after some blood letting and machine gun crackling. The scene of the battle featured in nearly every newspaper in the western world and brought in the high dividends dreamed of by President Nasir. 'Help the Egyptian dogs' societies were formed in most American towns and even the Zionist congressional lobby had to keep a low profile, in deference to American public opinion, when President Johnson submitted an emergency financial bill in aid of the Middle East dogs.
In the meantime, the fight for more dogs and more cats on both sides of the Cease Fire Line continued unabated. The Israeli propagandists, always one up on the Arabs, introduced a talking cat on Tel Aviv Radio. Dov, the cat, was trained to pronounce the two syllables of 'me...rvy', a cattish abbreviation for 'marvellous'. To every question put by the Kol-Israel interviewer, Dov, the cat, answered 'Me...rvy' How did you find life in the Jewish state? 'Me...rvy.' How are the cats treated by the people of Israel? 'Me...rvy.' How did you find your holiday in the Kibbutz? 'Me...rvy,' and so on. Millions of people in New York listened to the ten minute programme, 'With Dov, the Cat' broadcast by Kol Israel every evening. Shiploads of double-chinned American millionaires with fat wives and fatter wallets went on pilgrimage to Israel, the fat cat country.
The Arabs soon caught on and started to hit back in a panoramic manner. Hundreds of dogs were led into the studios of Cairo Radio to bark and whine at the microphone for hours on end. The Radio Station of Baghdad which used to beam a nightingale serenade from its transmitters as its distinctive station signal, now replaced that by a dog barking. The poor Bedouins of the Syrian Desert, always travelling with Japanese transistor radios tied to the necks of their camels, took note that the lingo of the townspeople was getting wilder and wilder. 'Easy, easy, you son of a dog,' they shouted at the radio. England, duty bound not to supply strategic materials to the Middle East, contented herself by sending tins of Kit-E-Kat to Israel and Pal Dog Meat, with real liver, to Jordan.
The Israeli Government highly praised the nourishing values of the Kit-E-Kat tins, issued them with Kosher certificates and gave them to their oriental Jews to eat. The Jordanian refugees, still swearing that there was pork in Pal tins, traded them for homus with the Lebanese Maronites who then made a profit on them by selling them back to England. A certain Hanna al-Khuri, a merchant from Sidon, who made his fortune by selling Sainsbury's tinned whole lamb hearts to sick peasants as potential spare parts for heart transplants, set up a new company in Cyprus to deal with the new Middle East line of business.
The affair reached sickly proportions and The Times of London could not but carry a full fledged editorial on this futile conflict between Jew and Arab. Urging the four powers to put an end to the costly race, the Middle East Editor of the newspaper aptly remarked that the fight for more cats and more dogs by the two sides had really become a rat race.
The following morning the Editor received an urgent cable from the same astute merchant of Sidon, Mr. Hanna al-Khuri, with these words: 'Please advise - where are the rats?'


____________________

لا حياء في الضراط


الأدب الفاصولي

يصف الانجليز الطفل الجيد الصحة بأنه مليء بالفاصوليا، لكن لهذه المادة دلالة اخرى عندنا، فهي واخواتها من الباقلاء والفول مصدر جيد للكثير من النكات بالنظر لما تسببه من غازات في البطن وما تسببه هذه الغازات من اصوات وروائح. النكتة المفضلة عندي وردتني من عهد صدام حسين، حين شحت الفاصوليا من الأسواق، رأى رجل صفاً طويلاً أمام أحد الدكاكين، فانضم إليه دون سؤال، أي شيء، صابون أو خبز أو مسامير.. أي شيء وكل شيء مفقود. خرجت بعد دقائق ريح من ذلك الرجل، فالتفت إليه الواقفون، ترك الصف في خجله مما جرى، لكنه لاحظ أن كل الآخرين انفضوا مثله عن الصف وراحوا يتبعونه حيثما ذهب، وقفوا حيث وقف، ومشوا حيث مشى. ضاق ذرعاً بهم، فالتفت إليهم أخيراً، وقال: «يا جماعة سامحوني، غلطت وطلعت مني ريح.. اعتذر»، أجابه أحدهم: «أخي انت معذور، ما عندنا اي شيء ضدك، لكن أنا ماشي وراك بس أريد أعرف من وين حصلت على الفاصوليا».
الادب العربي مليء بالطرائف المتعلقة بهذا الموضوع. و منها ما روي عن بديع الزمان الهمذاني عندما كان جالسا على التخت بجانب الصاحب بن عباد و ضرط. فقال لإبن عباد انه التخت يا مولاي. فأجابه هذا مداعبا ، لا بل انه " التحت" فخجل الهمذاني و خرج و انقطع عن زيارة الأمير. عز على هذا ان يفقد صديقا اديبا بسبب ضرطة فبعث اليه بهذين البيتين:
قل للبديعي لا تذهب على خجل من ضرطة اشبهت نارا على عود
فإنها الريح لا تسطيع تمسكها ، فلست انت سليمان بن داود
انطلاقاً من إيمان الغربيين بأن الفاصوليا تعني الصحة الجيدة، فقد ضموها إلى غذاء رجال الفضاء، ثم اكتشفوا هذه المشكلة، وهي ان مادة الاوليفوسخريد الموجودة في حبات الفاصوليا تسبب تكوّن الغازات، فتخلق مشكلة كبيرة لرجال الفضاء، فنحن على الأرض لدينا الضغط الجوي الذي يكبح تبطل البطن ويحبس الغاز في مكانه من الامعاء، لكن هذا الضغط يزول في الفضاء فتنتفخ بطون الرجال وتخرج الغازات بشكل طليق وتحيل المركبة الفضائية إلى بالوعة من الروائح الكريهة.
لم اسمع بعد عما توصل إليه علماء الفضاء من علاج للمشكلة، وإلا اشتريت كمية كافية منه لصديقي الدكتور ابو عدنان، كلما ركب معي في سيارتي، لكنني اعرف انهم ضمن الفحص الطبي الذي يجرونه على المتقدمين للعمل في الفضاء، يفحصون الشخص عن قدرة امعائه على التعامل مع اوليفوسخريد الفاصوليا، وكل ذلك حرصاً على سلامة البيئة الفضائية، فبدون ذلك، وبازدياد السفر الفضائي، سيمتلئ الفضاء بالفساء.
هذا ميدان في الواقع مفتوح لكثير من الابحاث العلمية، وطالما كانت مساهمات علمائنا في ميدان الابحاث العلمية بدرجة صفر، فلربما يستطيعون ان يخرجوا منه بشيء، ولا سيما ان اكثرهم مغرمون بأكل الفول، هناك مثلا امكانية طيران الانسان العربي، فبالتوصل الى طريقة لمضاعفة آثار الاوليفوسخريد ستمتلئ بطوننا بالغاز الى الحد الذي يجعلنا نطير في الهواء فيسهل علينا الهرب من اوطاننا بدون حاجة الى جواز سفر او سمات دخول و خروج، ولاسيما عندما يتعلق الموضوع بالمرأة. ما عليها غير ان تأكل ثلاثة او اربعة كيلوات من الفاصوليا فتطير في الهواء و تسافر بدون الحاجة الى اذن من ولي امرها. هناك الامكانية الاخرى بإغناء غازات البطن بروائح عطرية جميلة بحيث تغنينا عن استعمال البخور والعطور.
وفي هذه الاثناء وطالما انحصرت مساهماتنا في اطار الكلام واللغة، فاعتقد ان من الجدير بنا ان نهذب كلامنا فنتحاشى استعمال المفردات القبيحة، وهو ما حاولت ان افعله في هذه المقالة، ونستبدلها بمفردات حضارية مقبولة. فعندما تواجهنا فجأة رائحة في السيارة، نقول للسائق، افتح الشباك رجاء، الاوليفوسخريد عمانا، أو نتذمر فنقول: «اوف من اطلق هذه السخريدة؟»، وفي كل ذلك تكون الاشارة الى اسعار الفول والفاصوليا وسيلة جيدة للاشارة الى هذه المعاناة.




لا زهد في الحب

الشعراء في اخوانياتهم

انقطعت منذ امد عن هذه السلسلة " الشعراء في اخوانياتهم" و التي تفضل صديقنا الشيخ عبد المقصود خوجة بنشر مجموعة مختارة منها . وقد اغفلت هذه السلسلة بصورة خاصة منذ انتقال فارسها الاول الدكتور الشاعر غازي بن عبد الرحمن القصيبي من لندن ، بيد ان إطلاعي على ابيات رقيقة من صديقي الشاعر العراقي زاهد محمد زهدي رحمه الله اعطاني نفسا للرجوع اليها . و ابو عمار شاعر معروف بأشعاره الاخوانية حضيت منها بالكثير. و له ديوان كامل و ضخم فيها بعنوان "الاخوانيات ".
حدث ان زارت بيته اديبة شاعرة لم يذكر اسمها ، فلم تجده في بيته. اخرجت دفترها و كتبت له هذ الاشعار و دستها له تحت الباب:
لقد اتيت صباحــا لكنكم لم تكونـوا
في الدار، يا بؤس حالي فاضت بقلبي شجون
خلفتمونــي لوحدي تبكي عيوني عيون
راض انا ما رضيتم و القلب مني حزين
إن لم تجودوا بوصل فإنني لا اكون !!
فداركــم دار ليلى و إنّي "المجنـون"
" تبكي عيوني عيون" من ابدع ما قرأت من الجناس والتورية. تبشر بشاعرية فريدة.
ما ان عاد الشاعر لبيته مساء ووجد القصاصة وراء الباب، حتى اسرع لمكتبه و خط لها هذه الابيات الاخوانية مداعبا . خف الى دار الشاعرة الشابة ، و كما فعلت فعل. دس القصاصة تحت باب بيتها و انصرف:
ابدلتِ حالا بحال فكان ما لا يكــون
فأنت "ليلى" و إني بحبــها " المجنون"
بكل شـيء غريب من حالها مفتون
بحزنها و شـجاها تبين عنه العيــون
بشعرها وهو يجلو ما بالفوآد دفيــن
بسرها تحتويــه خلف الضلوع حصون
لكنــه في ثنايا حلو الحديث يبيــن
قالت غزا القلب حب فـي بيتكم مرهون
و أنها في هوانـا " قيس" رماه الجنون
فقلت: يا رب دعها تزدد هوى... آمين!

أيام فاتت

برتقالة لماما

كان من المعتاد في المدارس العراقية ان يوزع معلم الرياضة البرتقال على افراد فريق المدرسة لكرة القدم في فترة الاستراحة بين شوطي أي مباراة تجري مع مدرسة اخرى ضمن مباريات كأس المدارس الابتدائية او الثانوية ، اعتقادا بأن في البرتقال من الفيتامينات ما يعوض عن الطاقة المستهلكة للاعب ، بل و يعطيه بأس عنتر بن شداد للشوط الثاني، و كله على اعتبار ان الطاقة ليست سوى ملفوفة دولمة من الفيتامينات. فضلا عن ذلك فأن ما في البرتقالة من عصير ما يعوض عن السوائل التي تصببت عرقا من اللاعب في هذا الطقس السادي للعراق.
ما كان يجري في كل المدارس من هذا التقليد ، اتبعته مدرسة العسكري الابتدائية المطلة على ضفة نهر دجلة ، قريبا من محلة الصرافية العمالية بأكواخها و صرائفها الطينية الحقيرة من جهة ، و من الجهة الاخرى محلة العيواضية البرجوازية بقصورها الشامخة و حدائقها الغناء. بفعل ذلك كان طلبة هذه المدرسة خليطا من اولاد هاتين الطبقتين المتناقضتين. و لكن الطفل حميد كان من الفئة غير المحضوضة. عاش في واحد من هذه الأكواخ مع اخوته الثلاثة ، صبيين و صبية، مع والدته ام علي ، ارملة الجندي الشهيد ابو علي ، الذي قتل في احدى عمليات قمع ثورة من ثورات قبائل الديوانية.
لم يكن باستطاعة ام علي ان تشتري أي شيء لأولادها من باب الالعاب و اللهو، ولا حتى كرة مطاطية صغيرة. بيد ان الاولاد عوضوا عن ذلك بجمع الخرق و الجرائد الممزقة و شدها معا بحيث تصبح اقرب ما تكون الى هيئة كرة. كانوا يخرجون بها في الشارع و يلعبون كرة القدم حتى يحل الظلام . و عندما دخل حميد المدرسة ، كانت امنيته ان يستطيع الانضمام الى فريقها لكرة القدم فيستمتع باللعب في كرة جلدية حقيقية منفوخة بهواء حقيقي ، و تقفز و تنط كالشيطان ولا تهمد جاثية على الارض ككرة الخرق.
اما وقد فقدت ام علي زوجها في شبابها و ترملت ، فقد كرست كل حياتها لأولادها. جاءت تقود بيدها طفلها الصغير حميد الى مدرسة العسكري و اصرت ان ترى معلم الرياضة السيد جاسم محمد.
- " وليدي هذا حميد يموت على الطوبة. اخلي بايدك وهو ولد يتيم ما عنده اب. و انت مبين عليك رجل خير . ما اقول غير هالله هاالله بيه و احسبه مثل ابنك."
انحنت ام علي لتقبل يد المعلم جاسم ، و لكن الرجل منعها عن ذلك و وعدها بأن يبذل جهده في رعاية هذا الطفل اليتيم.
كان حميد صبيا شاحب الوجه ، نحيف البنية ، صغير الجسم ، خجولا في تعامله مع زملائه ، و لكن نحافة جسمه اعطته تفوقا خاصا على اصحابه في سرعة الركض و المزاوغة بالكرة و الملاعبة بها. و كل تلك الايام الطويلة التي قضاها في اللعب بكرة الخرق بين السيارات في الشارع و بين المارة على الرصيف اعطته قدرة جيدة في التعامل مع كرة القدم الحقيقية. ما ان بلغ الثانية عشر من عمره ، او الصف الخامس من الدراسة الابتدائية حتى اختاره معلم الرياضة عضوا في فريق المدرسة و عين مكانه من الفريق ، هجوم يمين. فقد كان حميد يبدع في تسجيل الاهداف، مستفيدا من جسمه الصغير في التسلل و اختراق دفاع الفريق المقابل.
حل موعد المباراة الاولى من الموسم الرياضي في سباق ضد فريق مدرسة الكريعات الابتدئية على ميدان ساحة الكشافة. اخذ اللاعبون اماكنهم من الساحة ، يتطلعون بشوق للأحدى عشرة برتقالة التي سيوزعها عليهم المعلم جاسم في نهاية الشوط الاول. ابتهلوا الى الله ان يكون توزيعا باستحقاق و فرحة يأتي بعد هدف او هدفين يفوزون بها امام زملائهم المشجعين من اطفال مدرستهم. تلى احدهم آية الكرسي مع نفسه. قالوا له انها تضمن الفوز بأي شيء حتى الأكوال في كرة القدم. فضل طفل آخر سورة " قل هو الله احد" .تلاها مع نفسه لما لا يقل عن ست مرات. ادار حسني ظهره الى المتفرجين الصغار و رفع كلتا يديه قليلا نحو الشمال حيث كان يعتقد انه اتجاه مدينة كربلاء ، حيث يوجد ضريح الامام الحسين و ضريح الامام العباس. و تمتم مع نفسه : " عيني العباس ابو راس الحار . انخيك! لا ترجعنا فاشلين. اعمي عيون كولجي الكريعات و خليهم يخسرون!" و لاشك ان لاعبي فريق الكريعات ابتهلوا و قالوا مثل ذلك ، مما لابد ان ترك الامام عباس بن علي بن ابي طالب رضي الله عنه في حيرة من امره . لمن من الفريقين سيستجيب و يدعم بذراعيه العتيدتين.
نظر الحكم الى ساعته ثم صفر بابتداء المباراة. راح الصبية الصغار يتراكضون و يجرون راء الكرة ، يصرخون و يتراشقون الشتائم و الكفر ، الاوامر و التعليمات ، و اخوانهم المشجعون حول الساحة ، يصفقون و يهتفون و ينشدون الاهازيج : " من قايل لك تلعب طوبة ! من قايل لك تلعب طوبة !" ، و كأنهم في معركة حربية مصيرية يتوقف عليها مصير البلاد ، لا بل و الامة العربية برمتها. يلوحون بعيدانهم و عصيهم و اعلامهم و قمصانهم ، " اهجم زين الصد ما ينفع !"
استمرت هذه الجلبة حتى صفر الحكم صفرته الطويلة انذارا بانتهاء الشوط الاول من المباراة. تدفق المشجعون الصغار ، كل وراء فريق مدرسته . انطلق المعلم جاسم محمد ، يجري وراءه فراش المدرسة ابو عبد الله حاملا سلة البرتقال ، احدى عشرة برتقالة عدا و حصرا. اختطف المعلم السلة من يده و راح يوزعها على اللاعبين واحدا واحدا ، ينادي باسمائهم و يهنئهم على ادائهم ، سعيد ولي ، خذ . عباس كردي خذ برتقالتك . حمدي عيسى هاك. فاضل علي ، برتقالتك. حميد حسين ، تعال ، تعال . وينك يا حميد حسين؟ تقدم حميد الصغير فاحتضنه معلم الرياضة. قبله من رأسه و نفش بيده شعره الاسود المجعد برقة و محبة. " احسنت! احسنت! الفضل كله الك." فقد كان حميد هو الذي سجل الهدف الوحيد في ذلك الشوط ضد فريق مدرسة الكريعات. " هاك! تستحقها ونص! " و سلمه المعلم جاسم برتقالته التي اختارها له خصيصا ، اكبر ما في السلة من البرتقالات .
راح الاولاد يقشرون البرتقال بأظافرهم ، يقضمون و يمطقون و يرمون بالقشور على ساحة الملعب . يمسحون فمهم بأكمام ثيابهم الجديدة المرقطة بمربعات من الازرق و الاخضر. يتناقشون في اللعبة و يخططون للشوط الثاني .
- " انت عبود، خلي بالك من هذا ابن القحبة سليمان، لاعوبهم الهجوم الوسط . لا تفك عنه. الحقه وين ما يروح و العن ابوه! اكسره!"
قال رئيس الفريق و استمر بالتوجيهات حتى صفر الحكم مرة اخرى لابتداء الشوط الثاني. و يظهر ان الولد عبود لم يمتثل لتعليمات رئيسه و يكسر رجل سليمان هذا ، و تركه يسجل بعد دقائق قليلة من اللعب هدفا لمدرسة الكريعات ضدهم ، فتعادل الفريقان بذلك و تحولت المباراة الى معركة حامية الوطيس بين هذه الشلة من اثنين و عشرين صبيا يحاول كل منهم ان يجر الفوز لفريقه. راح العرق يتصبب من وجوههم الصغيرة و التعب يستولي على ارجلهم النحيلة ، فيتعثرون و يتساقطون يمينا و شمالا. و المعلمون و التلامذة يهتفون و يشجعون و يشدون من ازرهم .
" اهجم زين الصد ما ينفع … اهم زين الصد ما ينفع …‍‍‍! "
لم يبق من الشوط الثاني غير دقيقتين او ثلاث عندما صد حامي هدف مدرسة العسكري الكرة من ضربة قوية . مسك بها ثم ناولها كآخر محاولة يائسة في المباراة الى الدفاع الايسر الذي بادر بدوره الى تمريرها الى الصغير حميد في الجانب المقابل من الساحة . استلمها حميد ، و دار بها يمينا ثم شمالا ثم يمينا ، يزاوغ و يخادع و يضلل دفاع الكريعات ، الى ان استطاع ان يتجاوزهم و لم يبق امامه احد غير حامي الهدف . اصبح الميدان مفتوحا واضحا لتسجيل هدف مؤكد يحسم السباق لصالح مدرسة العسكري . ارتفع الصياح و الضجيج و التشجيع : " يا الله حميد ‍ ‍! زين حميد! ‍ اركض حميد! هذا كولك حميد …!" لم يبق بينه و بين الهدف غير اربعة او خمسة امتار عندما سقطت من جيبه سرواله القصير برتقالة. توقف عن الركض . ادار ظهره للهدف بخفة و اصرار ليلتقط البرتقالة من الارض و يعيدها الى جيبه . و كانت الكرة اثناء ذلك قد تدحرجت نحو حامي هدف الكريعات الذي التقطها بين يديه كهدية مباركة و عاد فرفسها رفسة قوية الى عنان السماء نحو الجانب المقابل . و بها دوت صافرة الحكم بانتهاء المباراة.
هجم تلامذة مدرسة العسكري و المعلم جاسم في مقدمتهم نحو حميد بن حسين . و الجميع يلعلعون و يشتمون و يصرخون في وجهه : " ولك انت حمار ؟ حيوان ؟ تخبلت؟ شنو اللي اجا براسك؟ " قدامك كول مفتوح ! وتروح تركض ورا برتقالة؟ "
مسكه معلم الرياضة من ذراعه ، يشد و يعصر فيها. " شنو هالبرتقالة؟ ما اكلتها مثل ربعك؟ ليش ضامها في جيبك؟"
-" اريد آخذها لأمي!"
-" لأمك يا حيوان؟"
- " اريد آكلها ويا امي. اريد اذوّقها طعم البرتقال!"

Monday 4 May 2009

JUST A FREE PRESCRIPTION

DEALING WITH BACK PAIN

Samiha. A friend of mine, suffered back ache for many months. The doctor finally recommended to her a course of physical exercises. I advised her that the best exercise for back trouble is swimming. The next best exercise is fucking. A good intercourse combines the physical factor of effort with the psychological factor of pleasure.
‘ Oh, your are talking your nonsense as usual. I am telling you that have back trouble and you tell me to have sex. How can I lie down with all that pain?’
‘ Lying down is not the only position for sex. I ‘ll give you a book showing you with good illustrations forty eight positions for intercourse. Choose the one which suites you best and gives relief to you back.’
‘ No. I tell you what. You choose one that may put life back into your penis.’

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BLESSED THE MEEK AND INNOCENT

THE WORLD IN THE EARS OF A CHILD

In the impoverished district of Karantina in Baghdad, where I spent most of my childhood, most families lived in one single room in small and miserable tenements. There, they lived, cooked, washed , bathed, slept, made love, produced kids and died. Parents, children and in laws thrown together. Young boys and girls in their puberty would hear the exchange of words, the ‘Ahs’ and ‘Ohs’ of their parents as they engaged in the acts of the only pleasure they knew in their wretched lives. Sometimes, when there was some light coming throw the small windows, they could see the limbs of their mums as they went up and down, accompanied by the Ach and Oy. The younger kids, only half asleep, could hear what sounded to them as mysteries of the language.
Many amusing situations arose out of that intimate life. Salima, barely seven years old, was asked by her teacher about the benefit and use of light. ‘Yes Miss, we suck it.’
‘ Stupid girl! How do you suck the light!’
‘ Miss, I heard Dad last night saying to Mum, “Switch off the light and suck it.”
As he was about to go to school, Sadun found that his bicycle was stolen. He reported the loss to the police. They asked him the usual question, did he suspect any body. ‘ Yes, I think it was my father.’
‘ How comes?’
‘ I heard him early in the morning saying to Mum, ‘ Ride on it and push before Sadun wakes up.’
Of course, in this closely knit society, there was a great deal of illicit fornication going on. One child saw his mum bathing herself in a tin tub to wash off the janaba , the sin of the previous night’s tumble and hustle. Her son couldn’t escape noticing her sagging breasts. ‘ What are these Mum?’
‘ Oh, nothing. Just a couple of balloons,’ said the embarrassed woman.
‘ Our neighbour, Wahida has bigger balloons.’
‘ How do you know?’
‘ I saw Dad blowing them for her last week.’

Oh, the blessed kids in their innocence!

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هربجي كرد وعرب

كباب سليمانية


كما اجتاح الانكليز العالم بلغتهم يبدو لي ان الاكراد سيجتاحون العالم بكبابهم. بالطبع انا اتذكر جيدا كيف كنا نهرع بشوق الى مطعم كباب سليمانية في الحيدرخانة مساء كل يوم خميس. و لكنني لم اتصور قط عندئذ ان تصبح له هذه المكانة العالمية. فحيثما اسافر الآن في اوربا اجد امامي مطعما لكباب سليمانية. حتى قيل انه عندما سعى القوميون الكرد لإقامة دولة كردية مستقلة تقدموا بطلبهم للأمم المتحدة و ضمنوه دستور الدولة الجديدة و علمها. و كان علمها يقوم على خلفية خضراء يتوسطها قرص ابيض يضم شريطا جوزي اللون. سألوهم ماذ يرمز كل ذلك، فقالوا الأخضر يمثل تربة كردستان، و الابيض يمثل لبن اربيل و الشريط الجوزي يمثل كباب سليمانية.
سألوا يوما احد الفقهاء عن السعادة في الاسلام. قالوا من هو الرجل السعيد في نظرك؟ فقال انه الرجل الذي يتزوج امرأة كردية و يعيش على كباب سليمانية و لا يرى بعينيه المنطقة العربية.
طالما شغلني امر هذا الكباب. ما هو سر هذه النكهة اللذيذة في كباب سليمانية؟ فلم احصل على اي جواب. و لكن احد الزملاء العارفين قال لي ان الأكراد يحتفظون بهذا السر و لا يدلون به لأحد. عندهم وصفة مكتوبة بكامل التعليمات على جلد صخلة كردية محفوظة في احد كهوف جبل ازمر تحرسها فصيلة من مقاتلي البيش مركة الاشداء. فهذا الكباب يمثل الثروة المستقبلية لكردستان.
تجد مطاعم كباب سليمانية الآن في شتى زوايا شارع اجوير رود بلندن ، هناك مطعم السلياني قرب ماربل آرج ، و كبابخانة سرجنار شمالا ، وفي مقابلها مطعم كباب منقلة ازمر و سواها من المطاعم و الجايخانات و الكبابخانات الكردية التي عمت هذه المنطقة من قلب العاصمة البريطانية التي اصبحت تسمى الآن بعربلاند لكثرة من فيها من السكان العرب. وهذا شيء طريف، فهذه المطاعم الكردية تعيش في الواقع على المواطنين العرب و ليس الكرد. يتسائل الانسان لماذا يفضل العرب الأكل في مطاعم كردية بدلا من المطاعم العربية؟ ربما لجودة كبابها ، ربما لأنها المطاعم الوحيدة التي تقدم اكلة " الباجة" و القوزي العراقية، ربما لحسن لبنها الشنينة. لا ادري. و لكنني شخصيا افضلها على بقية المطاعم العربية لصدقها في التعامل مع زبائنها. الطباخ الكردي لا يغش في طبخه و نظافته و النادل الكردي لا يخدعك في حسابه و فاتورته. فأنا عندما اتعشى في كبابخانة سرجنار لا ادقق في الفاتورة او اراجع حسابها كما افعل في المطاعم اللبنانية لأنني اعرف ان الكردي لا يخدع الناس.
و هذا جزء جميل من الشخصية الكردية. وجدتها دائما تتميز بالصدق و الأمانة و مخافة الله. إنهم يأخذون الدين مأخذا جديا و ليس كما نأخذه نحن العرب. وهذا هو سر كل هذه النكات العنصرية ضد الكرد. فنحن معتادون على الكذب و المخادعة و نعتبرها شطارة. نفعل ذلك في سياستنا و برامجنا الحزبية ، في تعاملنا مع نسائنا و حتى في عباداتنا وطائفيتنا. و عندما نرى المواطن الكردي يتصرف بصدق نعتبره ساذجا و جاهلا و نضحك عليه كبهلول اهبل.
الصدق و الأمانة هو سر نجاح هذه المطاعم الكردية و انتشارها. لن اعجب بعد قليل ان اراها تحل محل المطاعم اللبنانية و تجتاحها في تصدرها لقوائم الأكل الشرق اوسطي الذي اصبح جزء اساسيا من حياة المجتمع الاوربي، شمالا جنوبا، شرقا و غربا. ربما لن يؤخرها عن شعبية المطاعم اللبنانية غير امتناعها عن تقديم النبيذ و المشروبات الكحولية.
تحمس كردي لقوميته الكردية فرسم خارطة لانتشار الأكراد في العالم. صبغ شمال العراق كله باللون الأخضر. أنهم الكرد في العراق. فعل مثل ذلك لغرب ايران ، ثم جنوب تركيا و شرق سوريا و جنوب اذربيجان. رقعة صغيرة خضراء اخرى في ارمينيا. رقعة اصغر منها لمخيم اللاجئين الكرد في السويد. نظر احد المشاهدين فلاحظ ايضا نقطة خضراء صغيرة في فنلاندا. فسأل صاحب الخريطة، كاكا حما شنو هذا؟ ماكو كرد في فنلاندا! فأجابه قائلا: " شلون ماكو؟ نسيت كبابخانة صديقنا كاكا حسن في هلسنكي؟!"
كلما انظر لهذه المطاعم الكردية في لندن و اراها مزدحمة بالزبائن العرب ، بالدشاديش و الاشماغ و النساء المحجبات و المقنعات ، المس هذه الحقيقة، الكرد لا يستطيعون ان يعيشوا بدون اخوانهم العرب و العرب لا يستطيعون ان يستغنوا عن كباب سليمانية.

ايام في الأهوار

فانوس المدينة

من المشاهد التي لفتت نظري و خلدت في ذاكرتي خلال زيارتي لقلعة صالح في جنوب العراق في الخمسينات، مشهد كشف لي عن العلاقة الوطيدة بين شيخ العشيرة و افراد عشيرته.
لم يكن هناك اي مغنين محترفين في الحفلة التي دعتنا اليها الشيخة ساعة. و انما كانت هناك شلة من افراد العشيرة ممن وهبهم الله صوتا رخيما و اذنا موسيقية.راحوا يغنون و يرتجلون الاغنيات واحدا بعد الآخر ، و على هواهم. كانت كلها اغاني حزينة. لكن احد المغنين تمادى في الحزن حتى تحولت الاغنية عنده الى رثاء و عزاء . ما انفك الا و تفجر في بكاء مرير.
انهالوا عليه بالضرب و الركل و رموا به خارج المجلس. " يا ابن الكلب تقعد تنحب على شيخ محسن و تقلب الفرح عزا قدام القيمقام؟ روح ارجع لأهلك." تقدم السركال ليعتذر لأخي احسان ، القائمقام ، بأن ذلك المغني كان ينتمي الى عشيرة اخرى فقدت شيخها محسن قبل سنوات. و اهاجت ذكراه مشاعر المغني بدون سبب فانفجر باكيا.
على الطرف الآخر من منطقة الاهوار، وقعت ناحية المدينة، التي تسلم اخي احسان ادارتها. لم يكن في مدينة المدينة اي كهرباء، او ماء نقي او إضاءة غير فانوس نفطي كانوا يعلقونه امام بيت مدير الناحية كرمز لهيبة الحكومة.عاد إحسان ذات ليلة فوجد الفانوس مطفأ فاستشاط غضبا و تصور ان انقلابا قد حصل في البلاد، فنادى على كاتب الناحية و معلم المدرسة و عريف الشرطة و البوسطجي. فخرجوا بدشداشاتهم تاركين وراءهم زوجاتهم يبتهلن الى الله تعالى ان تمر الازمة بسلام و لا يسجن مدير الناحية كل ازواجهن و يتركهن فريسة للرايح و الجاي. بادرهم غاضبا: " ليش الفانوس مطفي اليوم؟ الحكومة ماتت؟"
اجابه كاتب الناحية بإضطراب:" سيدي مدير الناحية السابق الاستاذ فاضل، امر بأن نقتصد بالنفط و ما نشعل الفانوس لما يكون اكو قمر قوي بالسما." امر احسان بإلغاء الأمر السابق و ان يستبدل به امر جديد. . "من الآن و صاعدا، اكو قمر ماكو قمر بالسما، الفانوس لازم يشتعل." انا واثق الآن ، عندما سيكتبون تاريخ العراق الحديث سيذكرون هذه المأثرة لأخي فيقولون انه في عهد احسان القشطيني جرت اصلاحات مهمة في ناحية المدينة كان منها ايقاد فانوس المدينة في الليالي المقمرة ايضا بالإضافة لليالي المظلمة. رويت ذلك لوالدتي رحمه الله بما قام به ابنها في المدينة فقالت في حسرة و اسى: " معلوم. اخوك إحسان الله خالقة على التبذير و الصرف. اذا كان يخلي الراديوبشتغل الليل كله وهو نايم يشوخر، ليش ما يشعل الفانوس و اكو قمر نشيط بالسما!"
بيد ان الإصلاح الاكبر الذي قام به احسان في ناحية المدينة كان في تغيير، الزورق التقليدي المعروف بالمشحوف بالزورق الآلي الماطور.
كانت المدينة تقع في وسط الاهوار و لا ترتبط بأي طريق بري للسيارات او الجمال او الحمير. اتصالها الوحيد بالعالم الخارجي كان يتم مائيا بالمشاحيف.
و يظهر ان احسان اعتبر جلوس المدير في مشحوف عملا مخلا بكرامته و هيبة الدولة، فاستطاع ان يقنع متصرفية البصرة بشراء ماطور للمدينة. و اصبح هذا عجبة من عجائب الزمان و منظرا يستأسر بالألباب. ما ان سمع صوت المحرك قادما من بعيد ... طط...طط...طط حتى خرجت فتيات المدينة و اطفالها وشيوخها للتفرج عليه يشق عباب مياه الهور بقوة الخالق. و لم يكن الجاموس اقل استجابة للتحديث و العصرنة. ما ان سمعت بمجيء الماطور حتى اسرعت سباحة نحو مجراه للتفرج عليه. وقد عجز عريف الشرطة عن تعليم الجاموس قواعد المرور فكانت تتكأكأ برؤوسها و قرونها الضخمة امام الماطور فتحول دون تقدمه، مما اضطر الشرطة الى الاستنجاد ببقية افراد الحكومة، البوسطجي و الحارس و المضمد الصحي و معلم المدرسة. كانوا يقفون بعصا طويلة ليدفعوا الجاموس بعيدا عن ماطور مدير الناحية. بيد ان الاختلاف بين سرعة الماطور و سرعة الجاموس ادى الى كثير من الحوادث المؤسفة بحيث ان شرطة المدينة تعتزالآن بتسجيل الحادثة الوحيدة من نوعها في العالم وهي حادثة اصطدام بين جاموسة و ماطور ابو اللولة.
أن نقتصد بالنفط و ما نشعل الفانوس لما يكون اكو قمر قوي بالسما. ال

Short Story

Talking of Organs.


When Um Ghafur, or Ghafur's mum, wife of Maitre Saad Kadir (Abu Ghafur or Ghafur's dad, presumably at least) went with her inseparable butch companion, Ms Alia Abdul Wahid, school mistress at the Bardudia Primary School for Girls at the Toub district, in the direction of the Midan bazaar, they passed by the sprawling Defence Coffee House. It was so called not for any part it had ever played in defence of the country or indeed in anything, but simply because it happened to be situated at Baghdad's main thoroughfare, the notable Rashid Street, just opposite the Ministry of Defence, which made it a natural haunt for Army officers playing backgammon all day long. The café was, as usual, full of customers, all of the male sex, whiling away the time by playing games or chatting and shouting. As the two ladies passed by, Um Ghafur could no longer resist this irksome question which had bothered her for a good many years. She turned to her companion, the school teacher, Alia, and asked her:

'Tell me, dear - these men sitting in this smoky café day and night talking - what do they talk about all this time?'

'Why, darling, what do you think they talk about? They have nothing to talk about other than your capital (مالك )and my capital ((مالي.'

What this respectable primary school teacher meant in her local Iraqi dialect by 'capital' was the sexual organ, or what is euphemistically put in the Holy Koran as the 'farg' or the cleavage. It was a very appropriate and clever expression, for a woman's sexual organ in that part of the globe is indeed her only real asset and capital in this world. Well used, it can raise the status of the most wretched street pedlar or orange seller to the rank of a minister or a prominent lady rolling in riches. Stupidly used and abused, it would only lead her to the dagger or bullet of the honour cleanser, be that her father, brother, husband or any kinsman, however near or far. She was right in what was usually talked about in the café, but at that point in time she was wrong, for the group of middle- aged men sitting around the table facing the ramshackle pavement outside, and who attracted her attention and inspired the comment, were not discussing her 'capital' or her friend's 'capital' but rather their own 'capital'.

They met daily at this café and took up their positions, always at this corner to watch more closely any female creature passing by and make their sound comments. Abu Lutfi, the former clerk at the Passport Office who was sacked for failing to share his bribes with his boss, did not, however, attend this regular gathering for two days. His friends were worried. He might have been arrested and sent to the Aby Gharib's concentration camp, they thought, or perhaps shot dead outside his house in one of those endless 'acts of God'. God became very busy with these acts in this period of the Revolution.

'Where have you been, Abu Lutfi? You made us very worried about you. We thought of calling on you to enquire, but in the end we told ourselves- better not. You know how things are. Still, tell us. We hope all is well.'

'Oh, yes. All is well, thanks be to Allah. Nothing wrong at all. I felt as if I was catching the flu or something and decided to stay in bed until I was alright. But I was wrong. There was nothing the matter with me. No flu, cold or anything.'

'Strange! How on earth did you think you were going to get influenza? Do you have a radar monitoring the approach of germs?

'Oh, yes indeed. I have such a radar - a foolproof radar. It is my penis, pardon the expression. Like most men, I am used to waking up just before dawn. I get my sleep interrupted by my capital. I find it erect and strong like steel, eager for action. It remains so for one or two hours, depriving me totally from sleep until it gets fed up, gives up hope and shrinks and goes back to sleep. With that, I resume my own sleeping peacefully.'

'That is right, my dear Abu Lutfi. All men have the same problem. Sometimes the penis refuses to relax and goes back to sleep until the unhappy man is forced to grab his poor woman, sleeping soundly as she might be by his side, and give her one. This is what is called the dawn intercourse. It is a good one. The best. Our divines say that the dawn intercourse is blessed by the Almighty. The offspring would be strong and healthy. There is also more fun and enjoyment in it, because it has God's own blessings on it for as soon as the work is done, the man gets up, does the ablutions and makes his dawn prayer. At least that is how it used to be. But people nowadays think of nothing other than the fuck and forget all about God.'

Having heard these wise observations from Major General Hamid al-Dabshuli, twice decorated with the Rafidain Medal for Valour, Abu Lutfi resumed his narrative.

'You are right, General. So, a couple of days passed without me waking up at night at all. My capital made no attempt to arouse me. It never swelled or got any erection. I knew I was in for some trouble - some virus, some illness.'

Here, the retired civil servant was once more interrupted by Major General al-Dabshuli, who had developed a totally different means of diagnosis. 'Yes, what you say may be quite correct for you, my dear friend, but I personally can always recognise the imminent attack of a cold from my shoulders. As soon as I feel a chill in my shoulders at the back, I know I am going to have a cold. I immediately get out my woollen jumpers and keep myself warm. Like all Iraqis bent on contradicting each other, Maitre Abdul Hussain Mutlaq hastened to put a different point of view. 'No, no, no, not the shoulders. It is the legs. When you feel your legs aching, be one hundred per cent sure that you are going to get influenza. Look to your legs. This is what the old proverb says: "Fever comes from your feet". This is what I always say. Keep your feet warm and your head cool.'
'My experiences tell me,' Ali Nufal, a wheat merchant from Basrah, interposed, 'that it is not the shoulders or the legs which signal the approach of a nasty cold, but the throat. As soon as you feel a tickle there, some sore spot, take a couple of aspirins and go to bed immediately. Keep yourself warm and drink lots of hot drinks.'

The discussion went on among this happy group of old friends about sickness and health, what symptoms, what remedies, how best to recognise diabetes, ulcers, blood pressure, heart trouble, etc. Someone referred to interrupted sleep, another thought it was the other way around i.e. excessive tendency to fatigue and sleep. Shaikh Abdul Rahim Agha spoke about his experiences with his stomach ulcer. Whenever he felt he must eat something outside the normal time, he knew his ulcer was starting again. All was not well. Abu Lutfi resumed his analysis.

'Oh, good people, believe you me, by the Almighty Allah who gathered us here and will re-gather us on his Day of Judgement, I tell you. All this talk about your shoulders, legs, feet, throats and what have you is irrelevant. Forget them all and keep your eyes on your penis. It is your most accurate barometer. Watch him. He is your good and free guide. He monitors and responds to anything going on inside you. Whenever I have something amiss, he shrinks and rejects any attempt to arouse him. I haven't finished my story yet. What I have learnt also was to look at his behaviour as an indicator of my condition and the progress of my illness. When I am not well, I cannot even find him to pass water. He is no longer in this world. He doesn't exist. But as soon as I see some life in him, swelling and raising his head, I know the treatment is working. My quack has done a good job. Believe you me, you can test your condition from the firmness and eagerness of your penis. Measure its length as it extends and you get a good idea of the extent of your recovery.'

'Like a thermometer.'

'Oh, Abu Abdullah, better than any thermometer, barometer or what have you.'

The truth is that not only Abu Lutfi made this useful discovery, but also his wife, Um Lutfi who, over the years of sharing the same bed, noticed the same scientific phenomenon. In her turn, whenever she was awakened by Abu Lutfi's hard instrument pressing and prodding her side, her thigh or her bottom she knew that her husband was O.K., brimming with good health. She would smile contentedly and say one or two words of thanks to the merciful and compassionate God for looking after the wellbeing of this family. But woe to her if she woke up and found nothing pressing on her side in that strategic part of her anatomy. She would then stretch her arm under the blanket and look for it because sometimes it could be concealed between her husband's legs or stretching between the big folds of his fat belly. Once found, strong, fully blown and extended to its full length, she would feel reassured and cite a verse of blessings from the Holy Koran: 'Remember thou God's bounties upon you if Him thou doth worship.' This said, she would leave his penis, that is, her husband's penis, in peace, turn to the other side and go back to sleep. If, for whatever reason, she happened to find it contracted and lying limp over his testicles like a stale and short runner bean or small mouldy piece of okra, she would be overwhelmed with anxiety and spend the rest of the night with her eyes wide open, waiting for the early hours of the morning, praying all the time for some holy saint or some descendant of the Prophet to intervene and restore her husband's willy to full erection and good health in mercy for this poor family in these unhappy days of shortages and UN sanctions and all these bastards of the Ba'th Party lurking on every street corner.

Sometimes, she could not bear it any longer and woke up her husband with a nudge into his stomach or a gentle pull of his penis. 'Darling, Abu Lutfi, apple of my eye, what is the matter with you? Something wrong? God forbid! Tell me darling, why is it so?' She would give it another pull. 'Why so limp and lifeless? Go and see the doctor.'

Abu Lutfi went on advising his friends and urging them to keep a good watch over their penises. 'Since I discovered this fact of life, I've lost sight of my capital. I don't care at all for what goes on in the rest of my body, leg, head, tonsils, whatever. These are all secondary items. As long as I wake at three or four in the morning with full erection, with my capital hard and strong, its head upright and ready for attack, I know I am all right. I am told that even some scientists in the United States started to check the health of their president by the duration of his penis's erection at night. This is a matter on which world peace depends. They brought him a Jewish consultant from Tel Aviv to monitor the state of his penis. Never mind the election, they said, watch over the erection.

The discussion went forward and backward, this way and that way, with plenty of reminiscences, references, citation of verses and proverbs, what Plato had said, al-Farrabi and Avicenna, what the old divinities and doctors had written about the sexual organs, coitus, erotic desires, descriptions of penises and vaginas, their categories and complexions. What is good and desirable in them, or detestable and unappetising. What men prefer and what women desire. Major General al-Dabshuli dwelt on the subject of length and size. Did it matter? Was it the length or width which made the difference. Shaikh Abdul Rahim touched on the subject of boys and how their anuses could be easily torn and damaged by oversized ones and unmindful fisting

All in all, school mistress Alia Aabdul Wahid's notion that this group of men were discussing her capital and her companion's capital was totally wrong. They were indeed discussing their own capitals. Thus they started their evening and thus they concluded their session. They rose to settle their account with the café owner, Said Abdul Azim, and bade each other good night.

'Have a good sleep. And you, Abu Lutfi, we wish you well. May the Almighty Allah bless your capital tonight with a good erection. He is the most powerful and all compassionate.'

The men dispersed to their own homes at Sabunchia, al-Toub or Bab al-Muadam as the case might have been . They just parted for the night like all Middle Eastern men, only to meet the following day at the same place to start all over again, drink their Turkish coffee or tea - sweet as syrup - and smoke their favourite hubble bubble. Mr. Wail Abu Lutfi appeared once more with the evening newspaper under his arm.

'Salam alykum, my friends.'

'And alykum al - Salam. Hope you are well today, Abu Lutfi. How did you feel last night? How was your capital? In good shape, I hope. Strong and alert like a python?'

'Just like a rod of iron, solid like steel, Abu Abdulla.'

'Praise be to Allah! There is no power except from Him.'



Dedication
The forgoing story is dedicated to my GP , Dr. Peter Tudor Miles and all the medical practitioners in the Wimbledon Village Surgery who always ask their patients, do they smoke , do they drink, do they sleep well, any pain? How often do they pass water? What colour is their shit? But they never ask them about their sexual life and how often do

Monday 6 April 2009

ARAB HISTORY RECONSIDERED

ARAB VIOLENCE AND NONVIOLENCE


In these dark days of Western Islamophobia and international terrorism, in which many Arabs are implicated, the Arabs are considered as a people bent on violence, war and bloodshed. Nothing could be further from the truth. There is nothing in Arab history which can be compared with what was going on in Europe up to the end of World War II. It is true that the Arabs are very emotional and volatile which makes them prone to explosive outbursts in words and deeds, but they soon give way. I find that their main problem is, in fact, their love for the joie de vivre, to enjoy life with the least effort.
One of the most common myths is that the Arabs are a nation of terrible warriers who swept through the old world from China to Europe within barely half a century. The truth, however, is that the Arabs had no military discipline or traditions comparable with those of the Spartan warriors, the Prussian Junkers, the Japanese Samurai or the Indian Karali. Despite all their concern for personal dignity, the Arabs have never treated flight or defeat as so dishonorable as to justify suicide. “Flight is two thirds of valor,” is a common Arabic saying. When Imam Ali prevailed on his opponent, Ibn al-As, and prepared to kill him, Ibn al-As turned his back to him and exposed his bottom, whereupon Ali had to draw back his sword in disgust.
Their great conquests, as described by General Glubb, were casual affairs made possible by the fact that there were no great powers at the time to oppose them. Long wars had exhausted the Persian and the Byzantine empires completely. The Spaniards were at each other throats. As soon as the Arabs had completed their conquests, they settled down to enjoy the luxuries of Damascus, Jerusalem and Andalusia. They threw away their swords and indulged themselves in a life of comfort, music and literature, leaving the defense of their land to the Persians, Turks, Berbers and Mamluks. They had never bothered to develop any military machine comparable with that of the Romans or the Greeks. The caliphs soon left each region to its own devices and took little notice if any one decided to split away, so much so that after barely some three centuries, their sway hardly extended beyond the boundaries of Baghdad, which was soon delivered to the Moguls without shedding a single drop of blood in its defense. ‘War is not for them’, General Moshe Dayan said after the 1967 War.
The faith they have developed, Islam, differed from most other religions in putting life before God. A Muslim is not only permitted but rather required to deny his faith if and when his life is under threat, an idea which became the foundation for the ‘taqiyya’ (avoidance) concept. Islam has had no martyrs comparable to the Jewish martyrs of Massada or the Christian martyrs of the Roman Coliseum.
A great deal has been written about the Arab and Muslim contributions to human heritage and the Renaissance, but the bulk of these contributions were within the fields of science, arts, philosophy and lifestyle, with hardly anything accountable in the area of war and warfare. Almost all military innovations, including the introduction of the horse, the stirrup, gunpowder, the tank and nuclear bombs, were made outside the Middle East. One look at the English dictionary can satisfy the reader that the bulk of words of Arabic origin fall within the fields of science and culture, like algebra, alchemy, alcohol, alkali, alizarine, or related to the style of sophisticated living like alcove, alpaca, damask, mascara, muslin, etc. I could never find any military term borrowed by the Europeans from Arabic origin. Western women learnt from the Arabs the use of perfumery, mascara, and cosmetics as well as the introduction of spices and saffron in cookery.
‘Jihad’ is one of the words which has been so widely misunderstood and misapplied. Linguistically, it only means struggle or striving, as may be inferred from so many verses in the Koran (e.g., verse 15 of Surat Luqman and verse 73 of Surat al-Tauba) The leading theologians divided Jihad into three categories:
1. The Jihad against the visible enemy.
2. The Jihad against the devil.
3. The Jihad against one’s own self and weakness.
The Sufis combined the last two forms into one which they called al-Jihad al-Akbar( major Jihad) which involved the struggle against evil, injustice, greed and lust. The fight against the visible enemy constituted al-Jihad al-Asghar (minor Jihad). Al-Bajuri based his opinion in this concept on the saying of the Prophet Muhammad upon his return from battle. He said: ’We return from the minor Jihad to the major Jihad.’ The Prophet underlined this idea on many occasions as when he said,’ The strong is not the one of combat but the one who overcomes himself in time of anger.’ It was noted that there are 124 verses in the Koran preaching forgiveness, patience and tolerance, something which is reaffirmed by many instances in the conduct and sayings of Muhammad himself. ‘Sabr’, (patience) is another concept advocated in some 103 verses recommending nonviolent dealing with enemies. ‘Seek thy succor in patience and prayer.’
There are various aspects and instances in the life of the Prophet which project a character in line with the philosophy of nonviolence, especially in his early mission in Mecca. The idolaters used to torment him and his followers in a variety of ways, like throwing offal and filth on them when they were making their prayers. In one instance, his companions drew their swords to avenge his honor, but he hastened to restrain them, saying,’ I am not instructed to fight.’ His migration to the City of Medina, which led to the formation of the first Islamic government and foundation of an Islamic state, dictated a change of approach. He had to act like any other government and rely on arms. This role, however, is often exaggerated by Muslims and non-Muslims alike. It is generally assumed that the spread of the new faith in Arabia was achieved by means of arms. Yet, careful examination shows that most of the tribes and regions, like Oman, Yemen and Bahrain, were won over by skilful diplomacy, propaganda, persuasion and good example. ‘Al-Amin’ (the Just) was the nickname given to him by the tribes who often entrusted him in settling their disputes.
Emigration, boycott and self exile from the land of oppression and from the hands of an unjust ruler is a recognized nonviolent means of resistance. One of the most important events in the history of Islam and the Middle East was Muhammad’s decision to emigrate from Mecca to Medina with his small band of followers. The idolaters realized how serious was this strategic move of ‘hijra’ (emigration) and pursued him, but he miraculously escaped. Muslims understood the significance of that act and immortalized it by establishing it as the beginning of the Islamic Hijra calendar. The hijra has two aspects in Islam. The first is spiritual in the sense of giving up the wrongdoing. The second is the physical emigration from the land of wrongdoing. Many political and religious movements in the history of Islam were given the name of hijra and muhajireen( emigrants) . I think that the mass emigration of intellectuals, scholars and professionals from Iraq and their subsequent political agitation abroad were one of the contributory factors in the destruction of Saddam Hussein’s regime. More recently it was reported, in January 2008, that many leading intellectual figures in Turkey , including the novelist and Nobel Prize winner Orham Tamuk and the eminent pianist Fadhil Say, had threatened to leave the country in protest against the Islamist policies of their government (The Government of the Justice and Development Party). This is a very significant and commendable development. It seems that the boot is now on the other foot. Instead of the government threatening to arrest or exile intellectuals for their politics, it is now the intellectuals who are threatening to leave and go into exile on account of government policies. A new advance in the nonviolent movement.
One of Muhammad’s memorable and controversial achievements was the Hudaibia Peace Treaty with his enemies, the idolaters of Mecca. The treaty was disliked and opposed by his companions who thought it had given too many concessions. But Muhammad preferred to enter Mecca peacefully and with the consent of its inhabitants rather than by the force of arms and conquest. His approach was a forerunner of Gandhi’s advice: Hold on to the basic objective and negotiate the details. The eventual peaceful entry resulted in the conversion of all its inhabitants to Islam. The Hudaibia gesture became one of the main cornerstones in the history of Islam, proving that the olive branch is mightier than the sword.
An important quality in Muhammad’s character relevant to nonviolence is his love of humor, the surest way for vitiating the spirit of violence, according to Freud, that may single him out as the only laughing prophet in monotheism, as far as we know. Again, there are many anecdotes in this respect as well as many sayings in which he urged his followers to seek innocent diversion in humor for their own good.
One of the main abominations which used to wreck the life of Arabia and is still the cause of so much bloodshed in the Middle East and Africa is tribalism. Muhammad’s great endeavor in this respect was to bring all the Arab clans together by embracing the brotherhood of Islam and in warning the Muslims against tribal bigotry. ‘He who adheres to tribalism (asabiyah), fights in the name of tribalism or dies in the cause of tribalism is not one of us.’ The fight against tribalism was extended to become a fight against all forms of conflict, so much so that ‘islah that al bayn’ (reconciliation) became a basic tenet of Islam competing in importance with the very worship of God. ‘Shall I advise you of something higher in degree than fasting, prayer, and charity? It is reconciliation.’ This hadith was given another form quoted by al-Tabari, ‘Shall I lead you to a charity beloved by God and his Messenger? It is to effect reconciliation between peoples when they hate each other and harbor evil towards each other.’ In reply to a man who asked him what was the best thing in Islam, he replied, ‘Give hospitality and say peace to those whom you know and those whom you don’t know.’ Likewise, the Koran has many verses emphasizing the virtue and wisdom of reconciliation, which are often repeated by Muslims in time of dispute, ‘Push with that which is better and you will find the one with whom you have hostility becoming like a close ally.’(Verse 34/ Surat Ha’ Mim).
Arabic literature and Muslim theology are full of anecdotes and pronouncements illustrating Muhammad’s aversion to violence, enmities and cruelty to animals. He even admonished one of his companions for cursing a flea. ‘Fleas are good’, he told him. ‘They wake you up to do your prayers’.
Was the aversion to violence and the tragic bloody events of early Islam a cause behind what is observed as Muslim submissiveness to tyranny? Muslim theologians differed on the subject. There were those who preached absolute obedience to avoid the ‘fitna’ (strife) and others, like Ja’far al-Sadiq, who said a Muslim owed no obedience to an unjust ruler. ‘He who obeys an unjust ruler disobeys his faith.’ Some Medieval Muslim theologians made tentative attempts to formulate opinion in regard to the distinction between violence and nonviolence. Both al-Ghazali and Ibn Taymiah argued that a Muslim owed no obedience to a ruler who violated the Shari’a, i.e. did not rule justly and in accordance with God’s commandments. But if it was found that there was no way to remove him without resort to the sword, then it would be better to leave him in office to avoid the ‘fitna’ .The opinion here is a clear espousal of nonviolence as the only means of resistance open to the Muslim community. Some Muslims, like the Sufis and Ishmaelis, rejected the use of violence altogether. The Druze in the Levant preached obedience and allegiance to any authority in office, which explains their ready acceptance of Israeli rule and recruitment into the Israeli army. The bulk of Muslims in India, led by the remarkable Abd al-Ghaffar Khan, rallied to the banner of Gandhi’s campaign of nonviolence and formulated their own Muslim theology on this subject. Muhammad Tayibullah updated Islamic theology to include the Hindus and Buddhists in the community of the ‘People of the Book’ and went on to adapt Gandhi’s satyagraha into the Muslim nonviolent movement of the Khodai Khidmatcar. When Gandhi declared the campaign of civil disobedience against the British, Indian Muslims found ample material in Muslim political thought, as mentioned above, to justify joining in the campaign under the Islamic slogan of ‘Tark Muwalat’ (Withdrawal of obedience).
More recently, the Iranians successfully applied the technique of nonviolence in opposing and eventually toppling the Shah. They did so by a series of crucial industrial and student strikes as well as by the mass demonstrations held repeatedly in Tehran with flowers and copies of the Holy Koran held in their hands and over their heads. Local cafes went on clandestinely playing Khomeini’s moving speeches and invocations to rise and resist. An American military adviser saw a woman demonstrator giving a flower to a soldier. He took it and put it in the barrel of his rifle. ‘This is the end of the Shah,’ the American officer murmured to himself. The Shah was disabled from taking any effective counteraction by the power of the clergy whose elaborate network penetrated the entire society. His difficulties were certainly more compounded by his opponents’ refusal to use violence against his regime for had they done so, they would have given him the legitimate and moral justification to use his mighty army and crush them with force. This was not the first or only nonviolent achievement of the Shi’i clergy in Iran. Early in the twentieth century, they led the struggle for the ‘Mashrutiah’ movement which succeeded in imposing constitutional and parliamentary rule on the Shah. The Islamic Revolution of Khomeini should serve as a good case study in Muslim nonviolent resistance and struggle against tyranny, corruption, foreign domination and imperialist exploitation without any need for the gun and the bomb.
The institution of the mosque played an important nonviolent part in the Islamic Revolution of Iran as in other parts of the Islamic World, like the part played by the Haram al-Sharif in Jerusalem, al-Azhar in Egypt, the Najaf and the Haydarkhana Mosque in Iraq. Governments find it very difficult to send in their troops, invade a holy place, interrupt prayers and arrest an imam during his sermon. With their emotions brought to a pitch, the worshippers leave en masse to demonstrate and defy the security forces with the shrill call of ‘ Allahu Akbar!’ (God is Greater). The seasonal martyrdom processions of the Shi’is have often turned into political demonstrations and clashes with the police.
During the first Palestinian intifadha (uprising), which was 80% nonviolent according to Gene Sharp’s estimate, the Palestinian activists sought refuge in the sanctuary of the mosques where they began to hold study groups after prayers. They would come out to demonstrate in the mosque square, stick their national flag on the minaret and turn the iwans into classrooms when the authorities closed their schools. According to a report by al-Sharq al-Awsat (15/10/1989) the number of mosques in Gaza increased during the Israeli occupation from 70 to 180. It is noteworthy that the Christian Arabs have often joined their Muslim brothers in the political activities connected with the mosques.
This joint national effort has a long history extending back to the early days of the twentieth century when the Christian Najib Nasser issued, in 1909, his magazine, al-Karmal, in which he agitated against the Zionist plan and emphasized the importance of raising the consciousness and educational standard of the Arab masses. As the Zionists started to smuggle Jews into the country, he organized teams of Arab scouts to keep a vigil on the coast of Palestine and apprehend the intruders. The problem of forging a national unity was tackled by the chain of the Muslim-Christian societies which existed in all major cities with their emblem of the cross embracing the crescent. The federation of these societies held seven conferences from 1919 to 1928 and shouldered the responsibilities of organizing demonstrations, delegations, strikes, boycotts and related nonviolent actions, but their main achievement was the building up of a national unity and laying the foundations for the national political parties. Najib Nasser’s call for more education became a political Palestinian slogan leading to the establishment of a chain of schools, institutes, colleges and research centers which have distinguished the Palestinians among all Arabs with their high rates of literacy, education, scholarship, professionalism and political awareness.
The joint Christian-Muslim action resulted also in the formation of local committees whose members were dispatched to the various towns and villages to implement the boycott of Jewish products, shops and businesses and to engage in that grey area of nonviolent action by the destruction of goods and equipment and setting fire to commercial premises without harming the human beings. This direct action forced the Ottoman Prime Minister to issue, in 1911, a declaration of a pledge to oppose the Zionist programme.
On 27 February 1920, al-Karmal reported a mass demonstration staged by the worshippers after the Friday prayers led by the Mufti (The Muslim senior imam) himself and members of the Muslim Society against the statements of the British High Commissioner. The demonstrators marched towards the Catholic Church where they were joined by the bishops of all the Christian denominations and a large Christian contingent numbering a few thousand people to
lodge a joint protest against the British Mandate policy. We have here so many lessons worthy of note for all these latter day Muslim extremists who view the world in terms of a Christian crusade against Islam. As far as the Palestine Question is concerned, it was actually the Christian Arabs who initiated the struggle against the Zionist project in the first place.
The nonviolent campaigns of Mahatma Gandhi in India coincided with the political struggle of the Arab peoples in Egypt, Iraq and Syria to achieve a similar objective, i.e. national independence. The Iraqis achieved their ambition through their armed struggle, but the Egyptians adhered to their own nonviolent resistance based on agitation and demonstrations. Gandhi’s methods attracted the attention and admiration of Arab leaders and political thinkers, despite all their conventional belief in the sword. In Iraq, the opposition parties, including the powerful Iraqi Communist Party which was supposed to believe in the revolution of the proletariat, stuck to nonviolent means within and outside the parliament. The usual methods adopted were mass demonstrations, industrial and student strikes, sit-ins, hunger strikes, petitions and propaganda. The campaign culminated in the ‘wathba’ (uprising) of l948. The British Labor Government of Attlee persuaded the Iraqi Government of Salih Jabr to replace the old Anglo-Iraqi treaty by a new friendship treaty which was signed by the British Foreign Secretary, Mr. Bevin, and the Iraqi Prime Minister in Portsmouth. The treaty allowed Britain to maintain military bases in Iraq. As soon as the news of its provisions were released, the Iraqi opposition dissociated themselves from it and called for its cancellation. The students declared a strike and marched into Rashid Street, Baghdad’s main artery, where they were soon joined by other sections of the population. The police were sent in to quell the peaceful uprising with fire. Scores of young people were killed or injured. But the demonstrators were not intimidated or drawn into foolish acts of rampage, stone throwing or other forms of counter-violence. They simply went on to renew the very orderly and well organized peaceful challenge day after day, sacrificing more and more martyrs in almost satyagraha style, until they broke the will of the Government. Salih Jabr was forced by the Prince Regent to submit his resignation and a new Government was formed by a religious cleric, Shaikh Muhammad al-Sadr, who cancelled the treaty forthwith. The Wathba was destined to become a memorable nonviolent resistance event in the history of modern Iraq immortalized in many famous pieces of poetry, including the oft-cited poem of al-Jawahiri. It was Salih Jabr who had to leave the country and spend the rest of his life in exile.
In Egypt, the movement for ‘istiqlal’( independence) was led by the Sorbonne graduate lawyer, Saad Zaghlul, in a completely nonviolent method. Soon after the Great War, he launched the campaign with a call for the boycott of all British, and then all European goods, including the national headgear of the fez. Britain wanted to outflank him by negotiating with Adli Yakuna a sham-independence. The authorities organized great celebrations to welcome him with flags, banners and triumphant arches. Zaghlul called on the people to ‘let the delegation pass like a funeral procession in an empty street.’ The cavalcade passed through deserted streets with closed shops, shuttered windows, no trams, no buses, no cars, no carriages. The following day Yakun submitted his resignation and inspired Mustafa Amin to write: ‘For the first time in history, silence became an eloquent expression and a revolutionary act far more effective than any street fighting.’ The British responded by exiling Saad Zaghlul and other nationalist leaders to Malta and banning any mention of his name. The Egyptians replied by launching the ‘Long live Saad’ campaign. They busied themselves by stamping all bank notes with that slogan. The authorities ordered the withdrawal of all such notes and replaced them with new ones. Rumors circulated that the fellaheen saw the leaves of their plants growing with ‘Long live Saad’ on the foliage. A doctor examining an expectant woman heard the fetus whimpering, with the will of Allah, ‘Long live Saad!’ The popular singer Munira al-Mahdiya sang, ‘O dates of Zghlul! O sweet dates of Zaghlul!’ The song instantly became a hit. The Reuter correspondent reported: ‘Anyone walking the streets of any Egyptian town will conclude that the whole nation - men, women and children have become street vendors selling a product called Zaghlul dates.’
Part of the nonviolent campaign was the development of a ‘noise bomb’, making a terrible noise without hurting anyone. A noise bomb was thrown at the stooge Prime Minister, Muhammad Said, who found the noise sufficient for him to tender his resignation and retire.
The similar slogan of ‘Bring back Yusif’, the Sultan of Morocco who was exiled to Madagascar for demanding independence, echoed throughout his country when the Moroccans declared a state of mourning during his exile. Houses were left unpainted. Frivolity, ostentation and drinking were punished and tobacco ( a French monopoly) was banned. Shops which sold cigarettes were burnt. Even fasting in Ramadan was broken, as Muslims don’t fast when in mourning. The regime of the quisling, Sultan Ben Arafa, was boycotted, so much so that even when he sacrificed a lamb in his gardens for the Id al-Adha, only very few individuals attended the traditional ceremony. Nothing was left for the French but to bring back the legitimate Sultan and grant independence to Morocco.
Another Muslim nonviolent resistance was recorded in Afghanistan during the communist occupation. As soon as the Soviet troops entered the capital in 1979, the country’s academics and intellectuals formed the Ittihad Milli Front( The People’s United Front) which undertook the task of publishing underground anti-communist material, including the Shapnama( The Night Message) news sheet. When a ceremony was held to salute the new flag, the Shapnama urged the students not to attend. Instead, they formed a mass anti-government demonstration which was attacked by the police, killing some sixty young people.
In Kuwait, a different kind of nonviolent method was adopted by the population against Saddam Hussein’s occupation of the country, based on non-cooperation. Saddam formulated his policy on the spurious claim that he was invited by pan-Arab Kuwaitis to rid them of the ruling family. He set up a kangaroo government with the hope of assuming some semblance of authority and credibility. The Kuwaitis replied by a complete boycott and went on to maintain a strict policy of non-cooperation with the new administration. Internally, they set up a successful network of cooperation, self help and exchange of information among themselves. It was almost a parallel government with its own medical care, education, welfare and jurisdiction. Young men undertook the burial of the dead, sweeping the streets and collecting the garbage. Reminiscent of Denmark’s treatment of the Nazis, the Kuwaitis applied the same ‘cold shoulder’ approach in their dealing with the occupation soldiers. This work was supplemented with an intensive and expensive propaganda campaign abroad. Skilful fiscal measures adopted speedily prevented Saddam from laying his hands on Kuwait’s enormous funds. Saddam had no option, in the end, but to go back to his characteristic style of terror and suppression without ever succeeding in his effort to break the will of the Kuwaitis into acquiescence to his rule.
The struggle of Palestine gave, in its initial stage, a magnificent chapter of nonviolence resistance, clearly influenced by the work of Gandhi in India. The Palestinian leaders were, in fact, very apprehensive and hesitant in adopting any nonviolent measure which might lead to violence, like the refusal to pay taxes. The initial work was based on boycott and non -cooperation with the British authorities. The Istiqlal Party formulated the guiding principles as firstly, the boycott of all government and Jewish functions, clubs and societies. Secondly, the boycott of all government committees and councils. Thirdly, the non-payment of taxes and fourthly, the boycott of all Jewish and British products and businesses. The resulting vacuums were tackled by such initiative as encouraging Palestinian industries and traditional crafts, setting up the Arab Agricultural Bank, the Arab Industrial Bank and the very successful Arab Bank. When the authorities arranged an election, in 1922, the imams preached in support of the boycott. The High Commissioner warned the imams that they were using the mosques for political purposes and asked them to balance their sermons by reading a government statement. They refused and went on to ban anyone participating in the election from entering their mosques, joining other Muslims in prayer or being buried in a Muslim cemetery. The result was that only 16% of the Arab population cast their votes.
The main concern was the loss of Arab lands to the Zionists. The Supreme Islamic Council issued, in 1935, a decree to all Palestinian institutions to deal with anyone selling or helping to sell lands to the Jews. ‘He shall not be buried in Muslim cemeteries or given a Muslim burial. He shall be boycotted, avoided, treated with contempt, abhorred and cut out.’ Various schemes were adopted to help farmers and land owners to hold on to their properties. The National Fund was set up to levy duties on the sale of products and cinema and travel tickets to build up a fund to buy the land offered for sale by any needy Arab. The new Arab banks were given the task of helping the cultivators with loans to hang on to their lands. The Palestinian Youth Congress organized teams to tour the villages and educate the farmers in the direction of protecting their lands.
In 1936, the Arab port dockers walked out in protest against a Jewish attack. It was followed by a mass rally in Nablus which called for a general strike throughout the country. The industrial action led to a massive rally with columns of men, women and children in their national costumes marching from village to village, some on horseback carrying their national flag, amidst the ululation of women and the singing of the boy scouts. The rally finally gathered to listen to a Koran recital and patriotic speeches, before taking a collective oath with thousands of hands raised up to heaven declaring that they would spare nothing in the service and defense of the country. A declaration was signed by 150 doctors, lawyers and academics adopting the ‘principles of non-cooperation and no taxation without representation as a peaceful means of resisting British imperialism in a noble and honorable way.’ The 15th of May was fixed as the beginning of the civil disobedience campaign. The day was marked by flags decorating houses and Arab buildings and with demonstrations carrying coffins bearing the words, ‘British Justice.’ Even burglars and criminals observed the occasion as no crime was ever reported on that day.
In view of the losses, bankruptcies and suffering sustained by shopkeepers and small businesses in this long general strike which lasted for many months, a special fund was set up to give them financial aid and to distribute food parcels, flour and bread. The country was divided into 15 supply zones with a committee supervising the aid in each zone. Other national committees were formed for medical care, finance and transport. Special courts and detention centres were set up to settle any disputes. All vehicle drivers surrendered their ignition keys and batteries to the strike committees and only used their vehicles with their special permits. The courts tried in public all offenders who broke the strike, paid taxes or conducted business with the Jews or the Government. The offenders usually apologized, paid a fine and pledged to observe the strike - to the cheering of the spectators present.
The mosques, churches and coffee houses were kept open 24 hours for educational purposes and special courses. The poets, singers, musicians and public speakers had a very busy time, touring all towns and villages. A by-product of the strike was the empowerment of women, hitherto confined to their domestic chores, as they came out to join their menfolk in shouldering the various strike tasks and organizing their own demonstrations, action committees and civil disobedience duties. A few of them were shot by the police in Jerusalem.
The authorities had to act, in the end, and order shopkeepers to open or face confiscation and fines. The shopkeepers burnt their merchandise or smuggled it to their homes, which were then raided by the police. The confiscated goods and house furniture (seized in lieu of the unpaid fines) were put up for auction, but no one made any bid and the authorities had to store the goods and pay storage charges. There were comic gestures as well as tragic incidents. As soon as the police raided a house, the children blew pepper powder in all the rooms!
The nonviolence campaign failed to achieve its difficult political aim of practically canceling the Balfour Declaration. But it produced many valuable products, as the formation of so many new Arab institutions, like banks, companies, schools, trade unions and political organizations. It empowered women and brought them into the national struggle and gave the Palestine question its international importance. The experiences gained became lessons for the first nonviolent intifada of the 1980s in which Mubarak Awadh’s Centre for Nonviolent Studies in Jerusalem played a useful part. The civilian jihad of the Palestinians is extensively discussed in the Palestinian Encyclopedia, Part II.
The Jews adhered to their traditional approach of refraining from violence, even when they were attacked by the
Arabs. But the Palestinian resort to arms following the 1936 strike inspired a British intelligence officer, Orde Wingate, to encourage the Zionists to take up arms and fight the Arabs. He undertook the task of training them and equipping them. Thus it was that the murderous and seemingly eternal Arab violence versus Jewish violence began. Jewish pacifists and idealists refused to be drawn into this tragic confrontation and went on to develop their own strategy and ideology based on establishing a bi-national state for Arabs and Jews together. They received no encouragement from any side.
The stupidity, indifference, short-sightedness and selfish pursuits followed by the big powers, local regimes and political organizations plunged the region into an inferno of violence and despair, leading eventually to the present day problem of international terrorism. Yet, this blind involvement in terror, with all its devastating consequences on the life, freedom, personal security and economy, is now bringing a new consciousness among the Muslim and Arab peoples that enough is enough. Many voices have been heard speaking against violence and calling for the adoption of
nonviolent resistance, democracy and legality as the best and safest means to reform, political change, human rights and liberation.


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