The Last Word

A promising generation?
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I can understand and fully sympathize with those who speak English with an Arabic accent, replacing their “P” with a “B.” The “P” after all does not exist in Arabic so from where they come from, it’s perfectly safe to say “combuter, Baris, and Eurobe.” A store near my office has a big sign saying any women’s hand-bag for “200 SB” (Syrian Bounds). Funny as it may sound, I both respect and accept that. They are speaking English with an Arabic accent, just like the Pakistanis, the Indians, or the French do when speaking English.

Born on the 17th of April
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A baby girl called Ahlam was born on April 17, 1946. The infant, born with a sparkle in her eye, had magnificent Oriental beauty and a smile that simply, would not go away. She came from a wealthy and prestigious family that boasted of heritage and traced its roots back to the beginning of civilization. The hardships of life, however, made Ahlam age quickly. Very unwillingly, she stopped breast feeding early, and learned to walk during her sixth month. She had to talk by the age of one.


Expatriate? No thank you!
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The theme of this issue is “Syrian Expatriates” due to the upcoming Expatriate Conference, to be held in Damascus in May 2007. Many of us have been expatriates at one point or another during our careers. I it the description in 1996-2002 while studying at AUB and doing my PhD in Great Britain.

During that period, enchanted by the incentives of becoming an expatriate for life, I applied for numerous jobs abroad and was accepted for every single one of them. I was sometimes even offered jobs without me actually seeking them. Among the opportunities I turned down—or some would say ‘missed’—was that of researcher at Westminster University in London, journalist at the UK headquarters of al-Sharq al-Awsat newspaper, other publications in Qatar, the Arab Center for Unity Studies in Lebanon, the Arab Documentation Center at AUB (where I worked briefly as an analyst), Haigazian University in Beirut, and more recently, at the Syrian Embassy in Washington DC.


Mahatir and Zayed, Nasser and Arafat
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I have always been interested in ‘role models.’ Whenever I conduct a personal interview with famous Syrians, I always wrap up with one question, “Who are your inspirational figures; who are your role models in life?” A role model by definition can be a friend or a family member, a living celebrity, or a long gone iconic figure. I have got-ten a colorful variety of answers over the years. Most people usually say “my father.” Duraid Lahham, however, said; “my mother!” Ambassador Imad Moustapha said it was his great-grandfather Abdul Rahman Kawakbi, among others, and Maestro Sulhi al-Wadi. The former ambassador and officer Suhayl al-Ashi said it was the late President Shukri al-Quwatli. Expatriate Minister Buthaina Shaaban said it was the late President Hafez al-Assad. Mohammad al-Maghhout said it was Mohammad al-Maghout. If I were asked the same question, my answer would be, in addition to both my mother and father, the late poet Nizar Qabbani and former President Quwatli. As for ‘inspirational figures’ in my life, I would name Munir al-Ajlani, a scholar and politician from the 1930s who introduced me to the world of Syrian history, Professor Samir Seikaley of AUB, who made me love history at large, and my friend Abdulsalam Haykal, who encouraged and helped me write my first book when we were students at the Faculty of Political Science at AUB; a seemingly crazy task for two 19-year olds.


Welcome Mr. Alzheimer’s
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My grandfather, a proud landowner for over 70-years, is now 95, and was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s in late 2007. Before that and until the very last moment, he was still driving, still going to work, and he still had an exceptionally sharp memory. It is always traumatic to see loved ones fade away so rapidly, while we are completely helpless at bringing them back. Apart from nationalist activity under the French Mandate and a failed attempt at entering parliament on a National Bloc list in 1947, he was apolitical, spending his entire life administering his family’s vast plantations, handed down from one generation to the next. He refused to sell—not even an inch—no matter how attractive the offers were from Syrian and Arab investors. He always took great pride in standing up to Akram al-Hawrani, the godfather of modern socialism, and saying, “What you are doing (in reference to confiscation of factories and redistribution of land) is going to destroy Syria!” I have heard that story over and over from him, but I continue to enjoy it and it always ends with, “Power is all about land! Once you lose it, you are finished!” He took land very seriously, and never recovered psychologically from the socialism of the union years with Egypt.

 


Learning from ‘King Farouk’
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With great interest I have been watching the TV series “King Farouk” this Ramadan, recounting the life of Farouk I, the last king of Egypt who was dethroned by a revolution carrying the signature of the Free Officers in 1952. For years we were taught to believe that Farouk was a ‘bad king’ whose ‘carelessness’ led to the Arab defeat in the War of 1948. Revolutions vilify and destroy all that preceded them. Egypt was no exception. Farouk’s name was ruined and so was that of the entire dynasty of Mohammad Ali Pasha, which like all other royal families, certainly had its faults. Even the Wafd Party, which was ultra-nationalistic, was ruined by the revolutionary Nasser regime. History books depicted Farouk as a womanizer, a drunkard, and a passive monarch who cared more for his personal indulgences than for the fate of Egypt and the Arab World. Historians, how-ever, know better. It was Farouk who initiated the Arab League in the 1940s. It was Farouk who worked to break the Hashemite-British dominance in the Arab World—with help of Saudi King Abdul-Aziz and Syrian President Shukri al-Quwatli. It was Farouk who insisted to go to war in Palestine in 1948. Farouk was a womanizer indeed—forgivable perhaps be-cause of his young age—but for example, he never drank alcohol. That is one of the many lies created by the Free Officers.

 


When families go to play....
I have been busy traveling lately, to New York, Los Angeles, Joburg and now on my way to Washington. It doesn’t matter which airport or plane, there is a horrible common thread. Families on vacation . Stressed parents, arms filled with rubbish. Children cluttering up the business lounges . And wherever I look babies in business class!

 


The imposter love!
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There are 12 marriages per 1,000 citizens in Damascus. That is what official statistics say, and yet there is also a staggering 40% divorce rate in the Syrian capital. Meaning, out of the 1,000 people who get married, 400 of them get divorced. The divorce rate is much lower in Latakia (9%), Aleppo (8%), Hama (7%)and Raqqa (3%). This shows that the Damascenes are the first ‘to fall in love’ and the first to get an early divorce.

 


The Syrian Studies Center at St. Andrews University
Syria is a pivotal country, one that, for per-haps a decade, has balanced uneasily between two contrary impulses. On the one hand, it carries the banner of Arab national-ism against threats to the Arab world from Israel and the West; hence Syria was the only Arab country to defy world hegemony and oppose the US invasion of Iraq. On the other hand, the heir of a rich mercantile tradition, Syria yearns to rejoin the world economy and was just recently on the brink of joining the Euro Mediterranean Partnership. Syria, a complex country, with diverse traditions accumulated over centuries, remains poised between these different orientations. Which way it goes is not entirely under its own control since the “struggle for Syria” that Patrick Seale showed to be pivotal to the course of the whole Middle East in the 1950s, is now being played out again. As it was in the 1950s, the outcome will be crucial not just for Syria but also for the future of the entire region.

 


A lesson in life from Solhi al-Wadi
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It has been over one month since Solhi al-Wadi, the man who founded the Syrian Symphonic and was responsible for the resurgence of classical music in Syria, passed away. A long time ago, I was lucky enough to be one of his student at the Arab Conservatory of Music. Although I loved music, I could never live up to Solhi’s expectation that I practice three hours a day. Solhi called me once and said that I would never become a professional musician. I should leave the program, he added, because my place should belong to a ‘more serious student’ who had a future in music. Despite my mother’s tears and my father’s attempts at convincing him, Solhi insisted that his decision was final. From this episode with Solhi, I learned my first lesson in life. It remains with me until this day, being basically that only hard work pays off. Unless one puts his/her heart and soul into something—they will never succeed.