Sean Jacobs's Blog, page 683

Freedom Day

By Sophia Azeb

For every day I have been alive, Muhammad Hosni Sayed Mubarak has been my president. Hosni Mubarak's face, blown up onto enormous posters loomed over every street in Alexandria. His speeches and political declarations were on the front page of Al-Ahram every day. His thugs, the police soldiers (as we call them), demanded illegal bribes, participated in the sexual harassment of Egyptian women, and mercilessly detained, beat and – as we remember Khaled Said's life – killed their own citizens.

In my family's apartment in the Moharram Bey area of Alexandria, Gamal Abdel Nasser lined the walls, his picture lovingly displayed just past the front door.  My neighbors had a photograph of Sadat under the glass of their table. Everyone I knew featured a treasured image of a famous Egyptian in their homes as a reminder of what Egypt had once been and had the potential to be.

On January 25th throughout Egypt, the first thing young protesters set out to do was tear down hundreds of those Hosni Mubarak billboards and posters. This continued for eighteen days until (and will continue after) February 11th 2011, the day Hosni Mubarak finally stepped down as president.

Remember the protest song that I mentioned in my last post? It's been updated.

I stayed up all the night before with friends, glued to Al Jazeera (English, for their benefit), and struggling to be a good hostess. I tweeted at one point, "Tense, hopeful, anxious, inspired, frightened, humbled." After the announcement was made that Mubarak had stepped down, just hours after Mubarak had handed over powers to the (former) Vice-President Omar Suleiman, I broke down. My father called, absolutely euphoric, yelling and crying in my ear, "Egypt is free! Egypt is free! Masr al harrah!"

In that moment, I could feel the joy, relief, and release of every Egyptian in the world that had followed the revolution. In that moment, I cried with the people in Alexandria. In that moment, I laughed with the people in Suez. In that moment, I sang Egypt's national anthem with the people in Meydan Tahrir. It is something that I never thought I would see. Mubarak leaving office, the regime as we knew it dissolving–none of this, just three weeks ago, I thought I would ever see.

My uncle Magdi patrolled his neighborhood, Smouha, with other Alexandrians protecting the homes and safety of their neighbors. My cousin Muhammad rallied with other young men and women in the streets every day and every night, strengthened by the fact that he had never known a free Egypt and the hope that Egyptians could make it happen. My father learned how to send text messages so that he could update me and I could update him about the news coming out of Egypt. My father, texting me! In English! My brother, Karim, a revolutionary-in-training, forced both his college peers and professors in the U.S. to wake up and pay attention to history in the making.

I have been struggling, and struggle still, to put into words the overwhelming pride and love I have for my people right now. I cannot possibly express what this means for us–both Egyptians in Egypt who have emerged victorious in their revolution as well as those of us overseas, exiles and expats alike. Despite the inevitable future battles that will need to be fought in order to ensure a true people's democracy is maintained, Egyptians now join Tunisians in showing the whole world how ordinary citizens can change everything.

Thank you, thank you, thank you. The Egyptian people – my people – are my heroes.

'White Music for Black People'*

It must be the weather. Something ("Everlasting Gobstopper," released in 2008) from the brothers, Daniel and Danny Chavis, better known as Apollo Heights.

* That's the name of their 2007 LP on which Mos Def, among others, was a guest.

A Great Day in Africa

Hosni Mubarak is gone. The hard questions–(will Omar Suleiman and the military stand aside for an interim government and democratic elections? Will we allow Egyptians to construct their own future now regardless of our "strategic interests"?–can wait for another day.

'Old and New Colonists in Zambia'

From Davy Lane:

[Two excerpts from a] BBC documentary on 'Chinese in Africa,' [titled "The Chinese are Coming" wink, wink] that contrasts old and new colonists in Zambia.Earlier in the documentary, Angolans are full of praise for the Chinese. Zambians ain't feeling 'em, however. Obviously, a snap shot. In the 7 min excerpt [below] interview with local miners (and of course has folks dancing). [But] worth a peek just to see old European settlers' annoyance at replacement of ballroom with badminton court:

 

 

Film Critic

The 1985 Arnold Schwarzenegger action flick "Commando" is narrated–"shot for shot"–by a 9-year old Tanzanian boy. (The video is is part of a campaign by a US-based NGO).

Via Boing Boing

'A World Class African University'

Archie Mafeje Hall at The University of Cape Town pays tribute to the late great African Anthropology scholar. The Hall is where, in 1968, 600 students sat for 9 days in protest of the University's decision to revoke Mafeje's appointment as a senior social antrohopology lecturer. At that time UCT folded under the pressure of the racist apartheid government, which is why, according to his wife, Mafeje understood this decision to be political, not personal. So why then did Mafeje not acknowledge UCT's 2003 public admission of guilt and apology in what has become known as the 1968 "Mafeje affair"? The answer to that question is not a simple one, but to answer it, one must also ask why Mafeje was turned down for appointments at UCT when the University was not under the pressure of a national racist regime.

In 1990, Mafeje was ready to come out of exile home to South Africa. After he inquired about employment at UCT, the university offered him a one-year contract as a visiting senior research fellow. This was a slap in Mafeje's face.

It seemed ridiculous that after working as a leading African scholar and professor internationally, Mafeje was essentially offered the same job UCT pulled from him 22 years previous, and for a max of one year, no less. In letters of correspondence with Mafeje, the university says they were encountering financial restraints and could not bring him on board for a higher position.

Three years later, when the AC Jordan Chair in African Studies position at UCT became vacant, Mafeje reluctantly applied. The selection committee short-listed him as an "A" candidate. After much discussion, the committee decided to interview Mafeje, as they were uneasy about his "personality." However, the unnamed chairperson of the committee claimed "a change of address" as the reason Mafeje was not contacted for this interview. In a letter he later wrote to the chairperson, Mafeje says that the committee's decision to exclude him is one that "only the politically naïve or the unimaginative can face, without some uneasy doubts."

It is clear that by the early-to-mid 90s, Mafeje's attitude toward UCT had rightly soured. It was only made worse when in 2003, under the black leadership of Vice Chancellor Njabulo Ndebele, UCT offered Mafeje an honorary doctorate and an official letter of apology… for the 1968 saga only. Mafeje was unresponsive. Unfortunately, Ndebele only learned for the first time of Mafeje's attempts to return to UCT in the 1990's toward the end of his time as Vice Chancellor. Before Ndebele left his post in 2008, he made a commitment to dig into the matter and repair the rift between UCT and Mafeje, who had passed away in 2007.

Under the new Vice Chancellor, Dr. Max Price, UCT extended a second apology to Mafeje, which his family then accepted. UCT also posthumously awarded Mafeje with an honorary doctorate. The apology was concluded with the steps that UCT would take to honor Mafeje's life work. Arguably the most important vow UCT made is "to permit access to scholars wishing to research the events surrounding Archie Mafeje at UCT to all relevant archival material without waiting the normal proscribed period, and to allow publication of any research resulting from this."

However, this effort at transparency comes with a contradictory footnote. The footnote states that scholars wishing to research the matter must obtain permission from the Vice-Chancellor to access the archive. Furthermore, any of their findings must also be cleared by the Vice-Chancellor who will then decide when and how they may be published. This alarming detail is yet another questionable aspect of UCT's torrid relationship with Mafeje.–Allison Swank

This is Africa

Spotted at a daycare in Brooklyn, NY.

'You know where Egypt is on a map?'

The "internet stand-up comedian" Kassem G talks to beach goers in Venice Beach, California, about what's going in Egypt. Some sample responses: "The one with the Cairo river and the pyramids?" "We're going to war with Egypt?"

Via Konwomyn.

'The Way You Smell'

A Group of Namibians from the Zemba tribe were thrown off a KLM Royal Dutch Airlines' aircraft in the Netherlands over the weekend "because of the way they smell".

The seven-member group, comprising four Zembas and three translators, were told to leave the plane minutes before it was scheduled to take off. This came after other passengers allegedly complained about the smell of these semi-nomadic Namibians.

The group were in the Netherlands for close to three weeks for the filming of a reality show, 'Greetings from the Jungle'.

After they were told to disembark – apparently without being informed why – they were taken to a hotel and could only fly to Namibia the next day.

The Legal Assistance Centre (LAC) has lashed out at the incident, saying that KLM undermined the people's human and cultural rights.

Willem Odendaal of the LAC said: "That is unacceptable behaviour. They [KLM] are fairly ignorant about cultural diversity, specifically in the Netherlands where it is claimed that everything goes. It is a violation of their cultural and human rights."

He wanted to know whether the Zemba people were "seen as primitive and therefore exploited".

Like the Himbas, Tjimbas and the Twas, the Zembas live in northwestern Namibia where they mainly herd cattle.

They apply a traditional red, fatty skin lotion which has a particularly pungent smell.

Although the LAC has no jurisdiction in the Netherlands, Odendaal said KLM will have egg on its face once the story is published internationally.

Ellen van Ginkel, KLM's spokesperson, said some passengers on the Saturday flight had complained of "discomfort, in this case the odour of the people". As a result, they were refused to stay on the plane.

Van Ginkel said this is in accordance with KLM's policy of ensuring "all passengers to have a comfortable flight".

Asked what exactly the discomfort entailed, she said: "There is nothing wrong with the odour, but it is a strong smell and creates discomfort."

She said she did not experience the smell herself. "I can only say what the other passengers said."

She refused to comment on whether the action was discriminatory, saying: "I don't answer personal questions, so I won't respond to that."

Source.

Tit for Tat

What happens when journalists attack? To find out, look no further than the pages of this month's "Columbia Journalism Review." The story begins with "One Man's Rwanda," Tristan McConnell's feature on American journalist Philip Gourevitch, most famous for his best-selling book on the Rwandan genocide, "We Wish To Inform You That Tomorrow We Will Be Killed With Our Families." As McConnell notes, the feature is "an exploration of the debate over how Paul Kagame and his Rwanda are represented in the Western press, a debate approached through the frame of one Rwanda's best known chroniclers." McConnell's point, which I don't dispute, is that as the dominant narrative about Paul Kagame has begun to change, Gourevitch's writing and reporting has failed to change with it. This, despite the release of high-profile documents implicating Kagame and his government in serious crimes, including most recently the UN mapping report, and signs of growing repression within the country. It's a fair piece, which in the end, also reveals that almost 17 years after the fact, no one has yet to figure out how to talk about Rwanda, least of all Gourevitch.

Gourevitch, of course, responded by doing his best Alex Perry impression. You'll remember fellow American journalist Alex Perry's freakout last year over criticism about his coverage of the Congo, or as Perry likes to put it, "the sucking vortex where Africa's heart should be."

Gourevitch's response is just as entertaining, as well as shrill to the point of embarrassing, sparing no words in calling McConnell's feature "a porridge of innuendo and insinuation, misrepresentations and deliberate distortions." For reasons that are not entirely clear, though, Gourevitch saves most of his vitriol for Howard French, who is only one of several Central/East Africa observers quoted in McConnell's piece. This then prompts responses from McConnell, the CJR editors and French himself, who unsurprisingly proves to be the most level-headed of the bunch.

Of course, as the gatekeepers of the Western journalism establishment continue their tit for tat, it is business as usual in the country over which they are fighting for bragging rights. Last week, in yet another example of the ways in which vague laws prohibiting "genocide ideology" and "divisionism" are being used to stifle dissent, three High Court judges in Rwanda sentenced Agnès Uwimana, former editor of the now-defunct private weekly Umurabyo, to 17 years in prison and former Deputy Editor Saidati Mukakibibi to seven years. The charges? Insulting the head of state, promoting discrimination, sectarianism, and genocide denial. The Committee to Protect Journalists has more.

Perhaps we can focus on that.