I was in Damascus for almost a month and a half, yet it felt like a lifetime ago that I first got on the plane to go back home. There is something beautiful about hearing the call to prayer five times a day, of mixing with the people in the old markets and pushing your way through queues to get something from a shop. Whilst walking up the steep hill to get to our home, twice people slowed down to give me a lift to the top of the road. There seemed, in spite of the growing materialism of some parts of Syrian society, a genuine warmth and innocence in people. At times it could get suffocating, but once I regained my familiarity with how to deal with unwanted space invasions or nosiness, I learned to swim my way effortlessly through my home city. I had been exhausted before my return but now, for the first time in as long as I can remember, life seems good again.
.Sunday, October 31, 2010
Friday, October 29, 2010
The death sentence of Tariq Aziz
I was quite surprised to hear that Tariq Aziz had been sentenced to death by the sub-standard Iraqi courts setup after the American occupation of Iraq. Compared to the other members of the Ancien Régime his hands were considered to be relatively bloodless. He was also, unusually for Saddam's other colleagues in the Iraqi Baath party, urbane, well-educated, articulate - and Christian. For all these reasons, it never really occurred to me that he might suffer the same harsh fate as the others. Yet such, it seems, is the nature of the beast.
It is a harsh, Chekhovian, justice which comes to my mind now. Not for the sham charges and ceremonial pomp surrounding the Iraqi courts and their comical judges, but for the dramatic end that has befallen this rag-tag gang of brave, yet ruthless, men who had risked everything - and done anything - to seize power, hold it, and finally to protect it from being wrenched from their fingers by American soldiers and mercenaries. They were all in it together, for better or for worse, and they nearly pulled it off. Nearly. Tariq Aziz is neither a monster nor a saint, but a man of his times. A fine comrade, loyal to his leader, and one who will die by the sword, as he lived by it. Like Saddam, he will hang not for any ridiculous moral judgements passed by those judges, but because he lost the war...
Posted by Maysaloon at 1:03 AM 2 comments
Labels: Iraq
Thursday, October 07, 2010
On Bertrand Russell's History of Western Philosophy
I'm progressing quite nicely with Bertrand Russell's History of Western Philosophy whilst on holiday in Syria. One of the things I like about him is that his style is fluid and his thought lucid. Critical and irreverent, he approaches the subject like an intelligent layperson and with what can only be described as the common sense of the average "man on the Clapham omnibus". In spite of my admiration for his style, he is possessed of an annoying, and very English, smugness in his approach of the subject. This smugness is infused throughout his writing, his contempt for radical or revolutionary politics, particular affection for modern English and American philosophers, and utter disregard of Islamic or, as he calls it, Mohammedan philosophy to which he dedicates 9 pages only. Most of these 9 pages are concerning the history and religion itself, leaving at best a page or two to some of the more widely known philosophers such as Avicenna or Averroes.
Posted by Maysaloon at 10:33 AM 1 comments
Labels: Philosophy
The Health Hazards of Being a Rebel Without a Clue
Posted by Maysaloon at 10:31 AM 3 comments
Labels: Rebels without a clue
Saturday, October 02, 2010
The Special Tribunal for Lebanon and sanctions on Iranian officials - what does it all mean?
Posted by Maysaloon at 7:14 PM 0 comments
Posted by Maysaloon at 4:43 PM 0 comments
Labels: Egypt







