Sha7wal شحوال

Remembering Ali Abdulemam

To know the Arab blogosphere, you need to know Ali Abdulemam, the Bahraini blogger who spent more time in jail than in blogging in the past year. He is one of the fathers of Arab blogging and Bahrain's most famous blogger as he was the founder of Bahrain Online, a forum that the regime blocked in 2002. When Ali’s name comes up, we think of a man who had the courage to challenge the criminal authorities and thus became not only an opposition figure but also an icon for his people and a voice to their struggle. His cell, where he was kept since September 2010 until February 2011, symbolized the oppression that a new generation is facing in Bahrain.

As we are witnessing the case of Egyptian blogger Alaa Abdelfatah challenging the military junta in post-revolution Egypt by refusing to accredit their military trials of civilians and answering their questions, we need to remember that 6 years ago, Ali Abdulemam went through the same challenge when he and his fellow Bahraini blogger Hussain Yousef refused to be bailed out because they did not want to admit to the system and its false accusations. Ali, after his release last February, has disappeared and was sentenced to 15 years in jail for ‘spreading false information and trying to subvert the regime’. Surely, just the way he was denied a lawyer when he was imprisoned last year, Ali like all other Bahrainis after the uprising, was denied a fair trial and was sentenced in absentia.

When speaking to Hussain Yousef about how he and Ali refused to be bailed out back in 2005, he narrated the story in details: “It was March 2005, we heard of a solidarity protest that took place in front of the police station where we were jailed (Al-Qathibiya police station). We were worried about the safety of the protesters. The long interrogation sessions ended with us and Wael Bualai. They faced us with seven charges. Our lawyers said these charges will lead to the sum up of 107 years in jail! We were laughing at those charges that regimes usually use to kill freedom of speech, such as insulting the king or the royal family, spreading false information, threatening national security, attempting to subvert the regime etc. We rejected the charges, decided to go on a hunger strike, and leaked our news out somehow. We heard that the king was out of the country and that he was faced with our case by journalists wherever he went. Free people stood in solidarity with us from all over the world and Bahrain human rights center did a great job campaigning for us. Statements came out from different organizations and we continued with our hunger strike.

Then, the Interior minister sent someone to ask us to sign an apology to let us out. I asked: for whom? For the king? Or for the people? If it is for the king then let his palace ask us so, and if it is for people, let the parliament come and talk to us. I asked him in return for an apology and told him that we are on a hunger strike and that if we die it will be his responsibility and the responsibility of those who asked to jail us. He offered to bail us out for 1000 Bahraini dinars (around 3000$), and again I rejected. I was taken back to the cell, I explained the situation to my friends, and we agreed. That night we were taken to somewhere unknown and dark. Our eyes were open when we got into the bus and we had intensive security around us and a wave of cars followed us to the new place where we met a person in civilian clothes. The guy started to threaten to put each of us in a separate cell, I asked him who he was and we figured out that he was someone brought back from his vacation just to deal with us. We asked to call our lawyer to inform him of our place and he said no one would know of our place. I said it will be his responsibility if we die and the whole world will know about it. Ali called one of our lawyers. Suddenly, they treated us differently, asked us which cells we like, and we were released the following day. It was the statement of the American Association of Journalists that scared them and we knew more about the calls of the American embassy by reading the cable documents that came out last month through wiki leaks.”

This is an interesting phenomenon that we are witnessing; bloggers are going head-to-head against dictatorships and wrestling their ways out even if they were left alone. It is truly disappointing to see bloggers still getting jailed, tortured, and/or brutalized in the Middle East after the uprisings. Iran, Egypt, and Syria are only behind China when it comes to the number of bloggers and cyber activists harassed or arrested. Saudi Arabia has recently arrested, later released, three vloggers for making an episode on poverty, Kuwait interrogated and arrested five twitter users this year, while a ‘retweet’ in Bahrain might get you interrogated or even jailed.

When speaking with Nasser Weddady, the Mauritanian blogger and activist talked to us about the campaign he launched: “When Ali was arrested in September 2010, Arab bloggers and others from around the globe created one of the nosiest campaigns to demand his release by putting together a showcase for advocates rising through different platforms and multiple mediums.” In comment on what both Ali and Alaa are doing, Weddady added: “This is for liberty; it is a moral stand. These two bloggers chose their principles over their freedoms. It is not about politics, it is about principles.”

Weddady exclaimed: “Ali is a delicate case; he is not a member of a political party because he is above the frame. He was targeted by the regime because when he speaks, there’s a huge blogging community that listens to what he has to say; he has international respect. The stand of world’s democracies towards Ali’s case is shameful. His fate hinges on the world’s complacency towards Bahrain’s dictatorship. We need to realize that this is not only an Arab cause, it is a global one.”

Ali Abdulemam is not a case of his own; he is the face of his people, his generation, and a true example of how online free speech is getting raped by regimes in the Middle East. Founding the Bahrain Online forum in 1998 was a tunnel that Ali digged for Bahrainis to walk out to the world. Revealing his identity in 2002 was seen as a mix of insane courage and suicidal wrestling against a brutal regime. Refusing to be bailed out in 2005, losing his job, and living the nightmare of Bahraini prison in 2010 are all factors that make the world owe this man more than silence. It is a shame how the Arab world and the globe in general are watching the crimes done against Ali and his people, adding water on their revolution to die off. With memory we try to fight for Ali Abdulemam and with spoken words the world should get the Bahraini regime to stop its crimes and to respect the sacred human right of free speech.

Published in Global Voices Advocacy 

Egypt: Men Should Wear the Veil!

With Islamists rising in post-revolution Egypt, fear of religious oppression is growing among youth, minorities, and women. Recently, a group of Egyptian women started a Facebook page in Arabic called “Echoing Screams” pointing out sexism in their society and the oppression that might be coming with the expected arrival of Islamists in power.

Continue reading this post in Global Voices

Tunisia Trolls Obama

Following my Global Voices post on the #TrollingObama Tunisian social-networking-attack, I was interviewed by BBC TheWorld on this wave. Listen to the recording here.

Tunisia: Let's Invade Social Networks!

A crazy wave of posts hit the world of social networks when Tunisian netizens decided to invade Facebook and Twitter with their comments. The move started with netizens showing solidarity and support for the American occupy movement by posting chants and messages on the official Facebook page of US president Barack Obama. Many of those comments were funny as they tried to Americanize the chants of their revolution that started last December. This came hand in hand with a hashtag on Twitter called #TrollingObama. Surely those posts are not only to support the protests across the US but to also criticize US foreign policy.

Continue reading this post on Global Voices

Saudi Arabia: Poverty Video Vloggers Released

Around two weeks ago, Saudi Arabia arrested three young video bloggers Firas Buqna, Hussam Al-Darwish and Khaled Al-Rasheed for producing an episode of their show Malub Alena about poverty in one of Riyadh's areas. The name of the show can be translated into We Are Being Fooled and this episode was actually their fourth episode after previous shows on youth and police corruption. Before the arrests, the show was having a good number of views but in few days after their arrests, it was viewed for more than 600,000 times.

Continue reading this post on Global Voices

Pictures from the Statelessness conference

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On my left, famous stateless Dominican- Haitian activist Sonia Pierre speaking

Next to Maria Otero, US under secretary of state for democracy and global affairs

Reading of my speech about the stateless of Kuwait

* Pictures taken, with permission, from MOSCTHA.

Tweet-Poems

He is dead. The End.

Picture of 18 year old Ahmed Al Shebani who Killed Gaddafi today

Um Poema Na Ardósia

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

   

Photo Credits: Rui Gomes Coelho

The Beat Generation Tour

What am I but a Beat Generation fanatic; my senior thesis was on the image of America in the poems of Allen Ginsberg and Arab poets and this is all what I want to do in my graduate studies. The Beat ideals, methods, madness, screams, expression, and rebellious soul are the ones I relate to most, and I have previously dared to call the rising Arab generation "The New Beat Generation"; one without a face, though.

Last week, I got the chance to achieve one of my biggest dreams when I had a walking tour around New York City visiting the places where the Beat writers used to hangout, live, drink, buy their books from, meet, and read their works. New York is not like Paris as it doesn't care if a famous writer or artist lived in this or that place, because the capitalist question will always be the loudest to be heard "Turn a place that a writer once lived in, to a museum? who will pay for that?" so unlike all the writers' maisons I got to visit in Paris two years ago, New York has no special treatment for them and unfortunately no one thought of doing what Lorca once has done in Andalusia leaving marks on the places where the best minds of his generation lived.

I surely did not get the chance to visit all places; directions are not easy to catch, and time was too short, however I tried to visit as many places relevant to Kerouac and his masterpiece On the Road. I didn't take pictures of all places especially those I got to during the evening, therefore, I will surely have to revisit these spots next time.  

[Click on any of the pictures to see it in full size].

In this Italian restaurant, William S. Burroughs used to invite his Beat friends to dinner.

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"Cafe Wha?" is the place where the Beat members used to go to listen to music, mostly Jazz. Great figures like Bob Dylan and Jimi Hendrix performed in this place.

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Caffe Reggio is a very simple and intimate place in Greenwich Village. It was not only a place for the Beat writers to hangout but also the site for Bohemians, a John F. Kennedy's speech, and some shots from Copolla's The Godfather II.

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In this basement bar called "Gas Light Cafe" the Beat recited their works. Bob Dylan has also performed there and lived in the upstairs apartment for a while. A teenager working in the shop next door told me the place changed its name six time, the last to be "106" and that it has had hard times. Unfortunately, many beat-relevant places are vanishing, getting neglected, losing their spirit, or even shutting down, as I've discovered in this short trip.

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In this building, Lucien Carr lived. He was the one to have introduced Burroughs, Kerouac, and Ginsberg to each other. He was the one that introduced Ginsberg to the writings of Arthur Rimbaud. Kerouac used to visit Carr in this apartment, and while sneaking out, once, Jack fell and injured his head.

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The White Horse Tavern is a bar where Jack Kerouac used to go drink sometimes. When talking to the bartender, he told me that they used to write 'Go home, Jack' in the bathroom so when he reads it he will remember to leave! The place was also a spot for Dylan Thomas, Norman Mailer, and Hunter S. Thompson. Kerouac lived across the street for a while in this building:

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Our Lady of Guadalupe is one of Kerouac's favorite churches. You have a weird feeling when seeing it left out of the 'developed' concrete atmosphere where one can notice the huge tasteless buildings, the metro stop, the bus stops, the European tourists, the tired workers, and the arrogant lunatic taxi drivers.

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In this apartment, Allen Ginsberg lived for a year. A passer-by gave me an absurd look for taking pictures of someone's door and did not hesitate to ask the question. When I answered, she replied "Ginsberg who?." I was of course disappointed.

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In this building, Jack Kerouac wrote his masterpiece On the Road. The building is getting renovated and I could not get in to see his apartment. One of the construction workers was nice enough to let me stand in front of the door and take a picture of me.

أكره العناوين

أكره الذين تجاوزوا تجربة الحب الأولى

أكره رجال أمن الدولة وضحاياهم

أكره الأمهات ممن رزقن بأبناء فاسدين

أكره الرجال الذين لم يقتلوا نسائهن الخائنات

أكره الشابات اللواتي اغتصبن في طفولتهن

أكره الأنبياء الذين يضعون أيديهم في أيدي من ادعى الإيمان بهم

أكره الأطفال الذي يتعاركون ثم يلعبون سوية مرة أخرى

أكره الراقصات اللواتي لا يميزن وجوه عشاقهن القدامى

أكره البحر الذي يبتلع خراءنا ويبتسم أزرق

أكره النساء اللواتي يتخلصن من ملابسهن كلما هلت موضة جديدة

أكره العاشق الذي يعلم أن حبيبته تكلم "أحمد" لا "مريم"

أكره السحاقيات اللواتي يركعن أمام حبهن ويقبلنه رغم بشاعته

أكره من يحذفون مسجات الأصدقاء الذين رحلوا

أكره العظماء الذين نكتب عنهم دائماً ولا يمكنهم تمييز أسمائنا

أكره رجال الأعمال الفاشلين

أكره الشعوب "المضروبة بالجزمة"

أكره الراسبين

أكره المرأة التي عبرت ابنتها الشارع وقتلتها سيارة نيسان موديل 87

أكره العاهرات اللواتي يلبسن جلوداً جديدة كل يوم

أكره الحرية التي تحملت كل الهراء الذي قيل في حقها

أكره أدراج المدرسة التي تبقى صامدة في وجه المراهقات اللواتي يسمنها بكلمات أغانٍ باهتة

أكره الأرض التي مازالت تحمل اسمها رغم مئات الحروب التي انتهكت عذريتها

أكره مظفر النواب الذي يغير قصيدته كل مرة

أكره أم كلثوم إذا أدخلت "عودت عيني" بـ "يا مسهرني" تحت تأثير الكأس

أكره من يكررون مقولات بصياغة مختلفة

أكره صديقتي التي انهارت بكاء في امتحانات الثانوية

حين لم تعلم الأبيات الأخيرة من قصيدة إيليا أبو ماضي

...

أكرههم كلهم

لأنهم يعرفون كيف ينسون!

يونيو 2008

Nocturno

La lechuza ciega

No quiero una sala llena de novatos,
No, quiero que se vacíe del resto,
Pero yo sigo como la lechuza
Que callaba
Para escuchar a su voz.

Debo pensar como ser rica
Por muchas cosas.
Debo guardar aquellas piedras
Que me saludan, carcajeándose,
Por todo el camino.

El mozo pintado en mi blusa
Rechaza subir conmigo a la buhardilla ,
Por eso estoy sola,
... y ... no quiero.

Oh padre mío,
Mas que castigarme,
Tachamos todo lo que escribo ahora,
todo.



La flor de la tarde

La flor de la tarde
Viaja con los perfumes del aire
Y me cambia por un juguete mudo.
¿ Acaso seré entonces como aquella ´´Yo´´
que vi en el espejo ?

La flor de la tarde
Me abandona colgada por la suerte de la arena
Y los niños hacen de mi palacios,
El infierno,
aquel dialogo con la muerte,
O palabras grises
Que desean abrazar la pasión vital
Aunque por minutos.

Quizás una carrera para apostarse
Sobre una canción
de lo que queda de la flor de la tarde.



Agua sobre madera

En las costillas del infierno
Se atasca la perdición en la garganta
Entonces no podrás atacar la oscuridad.

Así clavamos la puerta con las lagrimas,
Nuestras lagrimas,
Pero no se desangra
Mas que madera.

Las hojas del cuerpo
Se levantan
Y el poema vibra.



Pájaro

Me inclino
Para que pase la tormenta
Sin tensiones ni olor.

El pájaro lava sus plumas.

Mientras vuela en su nube,
Nos invade una clara extrañez.



Una Aguja, quizás es del sol

Cosechamos las mariposas por las agujas
El invierno nos vigila desde la ventana
Pero le obligamos a llorar.

Desde soles,
escondemos nuestro catástrofe
sin perdonarle,
mientras el silencio de las historias
nos ata con sus negros hilos
y nos pinta el cuadro del abandono.



Nocturno

Noche 1

Dibujo una plaza inmensa,
Donde bailo con la muerte,
Y cuando acaba todo,
Descanso,
Pero me ahogo en el llanto.


Noche 2

Aparece una nube
Creo de Dios sonríe a los pobres niños.

La luna se transforma en media,
Quizás esta triste por la caída de un estrella.


Noche 3

Sobre la cabeza de mi padre
crece una palmera blanca ,
¿No se como la coloreo?


Noche 4

La lluvia no deja a mi padre
Que pinta la puerta de la casa,
Y no hace nada.
Mientras mis manos
que no me dejan volar como un pájaro
Los tiro una comida para los gatos.


Noche 5

Una vieja nace de un árbol,
Me ofrece una manzana envenenada,
¿Acaso me muera,
O convertiré en un árbol?


Noche 6

La herida de la luna por la mañana,
Me imita.
La sonrisa del sol por la tarde
Se ríe de mi.


Noche 7 – fin

La muchacha de ojos finos
Me acompaña siempre,
Así no dejo de ver la cinta
De mi muerte,
Cada noche.



Mona Kareem
Traducción : A. Sadoun - 2006