The Goldstone Report

From Palestine News Network (the article is longish, but worth your time).

The Goldstone Report (it's 575 pages long).

A pro-Israeli response (also worth the read). A few of the arguments are made without proof or with flawed logic. One refers to the HRC Resolution and indicates that conclusions regarding crimes against humanity had already been made before Goldstone's information gathering mission even took place. This is a correct contention, but the Resolution talks about crimes going all the way back to 1967, ones that had already been documented; it calls for further investigation and a recommendation on how to handle the present issues. The site also questions the validity of having the crimes investigated by both Israelis and Palestinians. "How can Goldstone imply that Hamas or the Palestinian Authority operates a legal system that comes close to anything resembling that of a western democracy," the site asks. As if any other legal system is incapable of determining whether or not a crime has been committed.

Leaflets the above site mentions.

A Palestinian view about the leaflets and general situation they address.

Another perspective.

Power(less) Struggle

David Newman and Ghazi Falah's article "Bridging the Gap: Palestinian and Israeli discourses on autonomy and statehood" left me feeling irritated. I really have a lot to say, but promise to keep this post short.

First, the sheer number of interpretations of the concepts of autonomy and self determination (or the way groups will twist these words to suit their own needs) astounds me.

Second (and this is nearly word for word the comment I left on Ashley H.'s blog), It seems to me that Israel only ever acknowledged Palestine in human terms (instead of as a "refugee problem") as a result of external pressures. The article made me feel like Israel doesn't really want to deal with the Palestinians, considers them vastly inferior, and wants to get rid of the "problem" as long as it doesn't involve giving Palestine any power. (Including trying to "give them to" Jordan.) This reminds me vaguely of some other major historical events, ones a little geographically closer to home. What might they be... Hmm...

Rooftops of Tehran

Rooftops of Tehran by Mahbod Seraji is turning out to be a pretty good read. I haven't quite finished the book yet, but thought I'd do a quick post about it. 

The novel is very engaging and the prose is rich; Seraji makes complex characters witty and fun. He tackles large and intricate concepts while managing to keep the reader flowing from page to page.

The main characters are  primarily 17-20 year-olds and Seraji writes them as such. They're funny. Sometimes on purpose, sometimes as a result of adolescence.

I don't want to talk too much about the book because Marie and I think you'll probably read some of it and we're not sure which parts yet, but here's the basic breakdown:

Characters

Pasha (main character, narrator)

Ahmed (Pasha's best friend)

Doctor (Pasha's mentor)

Faheemeh (Ahmed's girlfriend)

Zari (Doctor's fiancee, Pasha's secret love)

Setting

Tehran, 1973 (action)

Tehran, 1974 (vignettes of the near future interspersed throughout)

Some background on the Iranian government of the time is definitely helpful (read: important), but we'll get there later.

Paradise Now

Paradise Now was excellent. It was co-written and directed by Hany Abu-Assad (right in above picture) and co-written and produced by Bero Beyer (left). Abu-Assad was born in Nazareth, Israel, in 1961 and moved to the Netherlands (which is, I presume where he met Beyer) in 1980. Although he was born in Israel, all the information I found on him refers to him as a Palestinian. In this interview he seems particularly sympathetic to Palestine. Perhaps he is a Palestinian born in Israel. I found no biographical information on Beyer except that he is Dutch and has produced a couple movies.

I'm sure we were all struck by the humanization of Said and Khaled (the protagonists). It is truly rare (at least in the United States) to be given the opportunity to view a suicide bomber as a real person.

Paradise Now does not exist to justify suicide bombings, but rather to illustrate how it is that one chooses to become a suicide bomber (or just a bomber, or a terrorist in general). I've always found suicide bombings particularly interesting because they're not just about killing the other person. If that were the case there'd just be bombs, no suicide. But martyrdom is an important part of the action. Showing that you believe so much in something that you'll give your life for it and for the good of your people.

We begin to see why Said and Khaled feel that they will be martyrs while they are filming their goodbye videos. While we can recognize suicide bombing as something that's not O.K., these men make their cases seem almost rational. We can at least sympathize with them, with their need to try to make right what they feel is so wrong.

Khaled says that Palestine has tried other means of getting through to Israel, political and peaceful means. He says that he can no longer accept being treated as if Palestinians are inferior, can no longer accept ethnic cleansing, occupation, unfairness, lack of compromise. This unimaginable act is his way of fighting for his country. Khaled asks Jamal to protect his family from retribution by the Israelis.

In his video, Said says, "Our bodies are all we have left to fight with." A statement that is at once dreadful, determined, and ineffably sad.

Later, Suha, who is also exceptionally rational, tries to talk Khaled out of his "mission." She points out that these actions give the Israelis all the justification they need not to stop what they are doing. But what really gets to Khaled, I think, is when she says, "If you kill, there's no difference between victim and occupier." He is forced to see himself as the enemy.

Said, trying to reaffirm his commitment, is again the model of downtrodden determination and elicitor of sympathy. "And the world watches," he says, "cowardly, unjustly. . . . [The Israelis have] convinced the world and themselves that they are the victims. . . . How," he asks, "can the occupier be the victim?" Suha has answered this riddle.

Powerful in its raw emotion and near constant intensity, the film presents the perfect persuasion. Even if you don't agree with the act, you feel for the person.

This film could be beneficial in classrooms for a number of reasons. Most obviously, it touches deeply on current events. But it can lead teachers and students to discussions about right and wrong in any number of areas. (How do we determine what is just? Was dropping the atom bomb just? Was it just for George to kill Lennie? Is the U.S.'s current involvement with Iraq and Afghanistan just? Are there degrees of justness?) Also, the way in which each main character presents his (and her) case can be used to facilitate discussions of writing persuasively. Each side of the "to bomb or not to bomb" argument is presented clearly and rationally. While the film's authors acknowledge their bias against Israel, they never indicate that they think Israelis should be killed, especially innocent citizens. The arguments both for and against the suicide bombings are well thought out and logical. Students will see that a writer needn't agree with a point of view to present it respectfully.

And for all the film's talk of violence, we never - not even once, not even when Said carries out his bombing - see any violence.

"With Guns In Their Hands And God On Their Side"

Sunrise Over Fallujah is Walter Dean Myers's 88th publication of 91 (one of which is a 12 book series, so that's really 102 publications). To see the entire list, use the link above, go to the "Bibliography" section, and click on the link on the bottom of that page. It's really impressive. 

The video at the end of this post gives a great overview of the book, so I won't go too much into that. Sunrise Over Fallujah is well written and portrays a young soldier's coming of age in the current Iraq war very well. This is specifically an adolescent/young adult novel, so there's no profanity (maybe one damn or hell, but I don't remember that even being present), but Myers does a great job describing the war. 

Robin, the protagonist, encounters battle, and Myers describes piles of body bags, soldiers killing and being killed, soldiers being dismembered, even attempted rape. He does this all in a way that provides a pretty clear picture for adolescents, but not in such a graphic way that it will cause any real controversy ("you can't let students read this"). It is a tasteful and toned-down-yet-realistic picture of what soldiers encounter.

Through Robin, Myers brings to light issues young people, those most likely to be enlisting in the near future, may not have considered. Certainly issues that aren't often discussed with adolescents, especially by recruiters. 

We get a mostly balanced picture of the situation (the initial invasion of Iraq at the start of the current war). Robin is dedicated to his country and his job, but he is conflicted because he now sees that war isn't as cut and dry as he imagined. It's difficult to tell the good guys from the bad guys. He wants to feel safe and protect his fellow soldiers, but really doesn't want to kill anyone. He is often scared and sometimes cries. He doesn't always understand the U.S.'s policies or logic.

Even the soldiers are presented diversely. Robin serves with women, blacks, whites, hispanics, young people, older people. And while the U.S. soldiers are primarily presented in a positive light, those who condemn all Iraqis are disliked by other soldiers. Those who seem to enjoy war are, through tone and imagery, presented in a somewhat negative light.

I could easily write much more about Sunrise Over Fallujah and pull out tons of quotes, but I won't. The book gives adolescents an idea of the plight of Iraqi citizens, talks about the myriad tribes and factions present there, the local violence, lack of hospitals and drinking water. It shows how the soldiers help the people and how the invasion has brought strife to the area. It would be a great book to use in a literature class, in a current events class, in a social studies class. It is appropriate for high schoolers and beginning college students, but could surely be explicated by professionals.

If the embedded video won't work, click here.

Pride of Baghdad

For this week's (and next week's) presentation on Iraq, I've read Pride of Baghdad by Brian K. Vaughan.

This book is a beautifully illustrated graphic novel that you'll find in the adult section of the library. There's definitely some no-holds-barred violence (not just war, personal violence) and even sexual violence in the book. The novel itself is based on the true story of four lions who "escaped" the Baghdad Zoo (escaped death) during the Invasion (that's right, capital I, for the lions).

As the story progressed, I began to view each character as representative of the mindsets of people from specific moments in time.

Noor: the young lioness who craves freedom and is trying to strike a deal with the monkeys and the antelope to gain that freedom. She is suspicious of humans and sees herself as a prisoner. She has no real memory of freedom for comparison.

Safa: the old, partially blind lioness who remembers freedom as a time of violence. For her, the safety of the zoo and the fact that meals are provided outweigh a desire to run free.

Zill: the alpha male. He seems young, Noor's age. He barely remembers freedom, and while he longs to have it back, he doesn't hate the zoo. I don't see him as a terribly strong character, but he does "prove himself."

Ali: Noor's young cub. He was born in the zoo and is in awe of what is going on around him. He has a special affinity for Safa. Ali doesn't really understand the difference between free and not free.

I wish I had more background on the area to round out and provide more context for the way I view the characters (especially Safa's violent history and Noor's strong feeling of imprisonment (which I feel must allude to something more than that she's a lion in a zoo)).

The destruction of the zoo is both liberating and confusing for the lions. Safa would rather stay in the ruins than leave with the other three. Interestingly, when the four step outside the boundary of the zoo (yes, Safa leaves the bombed-out zoo) they are surprised to see that they'd been lied to. The zoo keepers had always said it was just desert for miles and miles, but the lions find a forest beyond the zoo's gates. I see this reflection in our perception of Iraq. We talk about the war being fought in a desert ("the sandbox") and see pictures of dirt roads and dust-covered bodies. Do we allow ourselves to have keepers?

Ali and Safa meet a turtle (my favorite character), who tries to explain to them what has happened. In doing so, he reminds us of Desert Storm and of oil. But the lions don't get it and the crabby turtle can't explain.

While I think the middle part of the book calls in some gender roles (perhaps unintentionally), it's the end that I find most telling. No, I won't ruin it (although that may happen in class). I just find the soldier's statement so open ended. Was he lying or delusional?

Two Women

Marie and I both watched Two Women for our upcoming presentation on Iran. I'll be viewing another video as well, but I watched this movie so Marie and I could discuss it and because I thought it looked good and because we think some of you may watch it!

Two Women was released in 1998 and was written and directed by Tahmineh Milani, who is also responsible for several other films. The movie takes place in the late 1970s and 1980s (a 13 year span is covered).

Two Women has several important characters:

1). Fereshteh (main character)

2). Roya

3). Hassan

4). Fereshteh's uncle and male cousin

5). Fereshteh's father

6). Ahmad (Fereshteh's husband)

7). Roya's husband

At the film's outset we see Roya, a woman who owns an architecture firm with her husband. Roya is confident and has the respect of her workers. Her relationship with her husband is shown to be one of mutual respect, one that represents a partnership in life.

We then flash back to Roya's university days in Tehran. She meets a classmate named Fereshteh, who is very smart and tutors Roya. The two women become very good friends. While both women are independent (think for themselves, live alone, attend university, come and go as they please), we begin to see Fereshteh as the more bold of the friends. When something dangerous happens at the university she wants to stop and see what it is. When she is confronted by Hassan, her stalker, she goes up to him and yells at him even though she is scared and knows he is dangerous. She refuses to stay in her apartment and hide from Hassan.

This is where Milani's portrayal of men begins to play a larger role. Hassan follows Fereshteh everywhere she goes and gets on the bus with her multiple times. In Tehran, when Fereshteh and Roya (who are on the bus together) tell the driver they are being harassed, the driver and other men help them. The driver throws Hassan off the bus, calls him names, and tells him to leave the girls alone. As Fereshteh looks out the window, she sees Hassan holding a knife and looking at her. Hassan's terrorization of Fereshteh continues in Tehran until he disfigures her male cousin with acid. (See Marie's post for more details.)

In the hospital (after the acid), Fereshteh's uncle and father (brothers) are both present. Fereshteh's father blames her and says that she has dishonored her family. Fereshteh's uncle tries to tell his brother that it is not Fereshteh's fault and that she needs help and comfort. This exchange highlights how two different regions in Iran may be predisposed to thinking of women. These two brothers, presumably raised together, have different views. Fereshteh's uncle, living in Tehran, allows his son to be tutored by a woman and understands, even through his grief, that she is not to blame for the tragedy that befell his son. Fereshteh's father, who still lives in a small town, blames his daughter as if she threw the acid herself, he feels that she is directly responsible for this, that she has dishonored and embarrassed her family, and that she has had too much freedom and must come home.

Back home, Fereshteh is sad but feels safe. Until she uses a public phone and sees Hassan watching her. She gets in her car and a chase ensues in which a little boy dies. Fereshteh's father is again upset and blames her. At the trial, Hassan blames Fereshteh for everything he's being charged with (stalking, acid throwing, killing the little boy). He says it's all her fault because she didn't love him and she made him feel foolish for being in love with her, that he still loves her (you didn't miss anything, these two never date, he just sees her and wants her) and that she mocks him by denying him. He is sentenced to 13 years in prison. He says, as he being hauled away, that he'll find Fereshteh.

Fereshteh, too was on trial. A man named Ahmad paid her expenses in exchange for her hand in marriage (for more details see Marie's post on this). Though her family tried to guilt her into marriage, though she felt she owed Ahmad, Fereshteh chose to marry Ahmad. No one forced her to do so.

After their marriage, we see Ahmad become controlling and jealous of Fereshteh. He won't let anyone see her, he locks up the phone, he forbids her to leave the house, he will not allow her to go back to university. Fereshteh tries to deal with this at first, tries to reason with Ahmad. But the treatment escalates to the point that Fereshteh's father even gets upset with Ahmad, telling him "I gave you a wife, not a slave."

This is the beginning of the real development of Fereshteh's father. He is seeing first hand the psychological ramifications this marriage is having on his daughter. He is beginning to understand that there are things occurring around Fereshteh for which she is not responsible.
Fereshteh convinces her father to help her get a divorce, which is not granted. That he even agreed, though, shows monumental growth on the part of Fereshteh's father.

Years later, when Hassan gets out of prison, he finds Fereshteh. When she is fleeing Ahmad, Hassan catches up with her and she begs for death. Ahmad catches up to Fereshteh and tries to stop Hassan, then Hassan stabs Ahmad.

We are then brought back to a scene with Roya and her husband. Again, we see the loving, respectful couple. When Fereshteh questions how she'll live if Ahmad dies, it is Roya's husband who tells her "you'll live."

These male characters are all representations of stereotypes and of the progression of women's lives in Iran.

Hassan, the man who would have complete control, who would disfigure and kill a woman who disobeyed him, who is psychotic and obsessive.

Ahmad, the man who does not respect his wife, who needs control and is suspicious and wears away a woman's self esteem, tries to take away the freedom she had and wants back, but never physically abuses her.

Fereshteh's uncle, who shows progress from the old way of thinking (which he probably shared with his brother) to a more liberated view where smart, independent women are not intimidating and unnatural.

Fereshteh's father, who shows that a man can change. His character's progression toward a point of view that values Fereshteh from one that blames her shows that progress does not have to happen from generation to generation, it can occur within a person.

Roya's husband, who epitomizes what is lacking in the life of the repressed who have no recourse because laws are created to keep them "in their places": mutual respect, genuine love, no contest to independence, partnership.

Milani sets this movie in the late 1970s and 1980s for a very specific reason. Not only does Milani show that there many kinds of men in Iran, just as there here in the U.S. and around the world, she shows that there are men who do not treat women poorly just because laws allow them to. She shows that there is a progression taking place (Fereshteh's father, uncle, cousin, Roya's husband). If that progression was occurring in the 1970s and continued after the Islamic Revolution of 1979, what kind of men and relationships must there now exist in Iran?

While both main female characters are strong, independent, and smart, the point of Two Women is largely about showing Iranian men, the Iranian society, as something that is not barbaric and void of respect for women. By using characters like Hassan and Ahmad, Milani shows her awareness that some change is needed, that women are not treated as equals. She makes a stellar case against the mistreatment of women. But she also does a stellar job at devillainizing Iranian men by showing that they are not all like Hassan and Ahmad and that even those who share some characteristics with them can change.