In Syria, official and unofficial censorship practices take place out of the public sphere and largely remain an enigma to both Syrians and other observers. In essence, no one knows exactly what constitutes officially unacceptable speech because there is no official policy that lays down these dictates. It’s a situation of trial and error; and most Syrian writers and commentators take care to stay within the bounds of state-sanctioned speech, both when expressing opinions in local  and foreign-run media outlets.

The recent arrest of Syrian religious figure Shaykh Abdul Rahman Kuki by the Syrian security apparatus after his appearance on the al-Jazeera debate-style program al-Itijah al-Muakkis (The Opposite Direction) could possibly give us insight into what constitutes acceptable speech in the eyes of the Syrian government.

What makes Kuki’s case unique is precisely the availability of his “incriminating speech,” so to speak. Since Kuki participated in a televised debate on al-Jazeera — an outlet that does not bend to state demands — I was able to watch and dissect the footage that led to his subsequent arrest. Normally, the speech in question somehow dissapears from the record or was never available in the first place.

It should also be noted that Kuki is no stranger to the Arab media apparatus and its workings. He has appeared at least once on a debate show on the state-run Syria TV called “The Red Line” (aka the line you do not cross)  where he represents an “Islamic” perspective. From this, we can assume that Kuki was familiar self and direct censorship practices, so what happened this time?

THE DEBATE

The topic of the debate: The Niqab. (The niqab is the veil that covers the entire face except for the eyes.) More specifically, the debate focused on the announcement of Cairo’s al-Azhar Shakyh Muhammad Tantawi of the institution’s plans to ban the niqab on al-Azhar property. Shaykh Kuki is pro-niqab and against the purported plans of al-Azhar, which is a revered Islamic institution.

Below, I want to examine the statements which could have been deemed problematic by the Syrian regime.

Per the nature of the show, Kuki starts off on an inflammatory note and claims that the “so-called” Shaykh of al-Azhar is implementing an American-Zionist plan and thus he is “a part of the Zionist-Crusader campaign against Islam.”

تحية إلى صاحبات الرفعة والفخامة إلى المسلمات المنقبات ثم المتحجبات المتجلببات اللواتي يرفضن الانسياق وراء الطرح الصهيو أميركي الذي جاء على لسان ما يسمى بشيخ الأزهر ويرفضن أن يتنازلن عن دينهن وشرفهن وعقيدتهن ويعلمن أن ما يثار ضدهن إنما هو جزء.. حملة شيخ الأزهر جزء من الحملة الصهيو صليبية على الإسلام.

Shaykh Kuki further attacks the head Azhari Shaykh in a very confrontational way and then asks: “What is the field of [the Shaykh's] battle?  . . . The field of his battle is Islam and his first enemy is the hijab, chastity, and the niqab. Has the Shakyh launched a battle or any statements against the Jews? Never. Against corruption? Never. Against prostitution and drunkery? Against depravity? Against tight jeans?”

شيخ الأزهر يقوم بحملة يشارك بحملة صليبية ضد الإسلام, الآن بالله عليك شيخ الأزهر ما هي ساحة معركته؟ ما هو فضاء عمله؟ ساحة معركته وحربه الإسلام، عدوه الأول الحجاب والعفة والنقاب. هل قام شيخ الأزهر بحرب وتصريحات ضد اليهود؟ أبدا، هل قام ضد الفساد؟ أبدا، ضد بيوت الدعارة والخنى؟ ضد التهتك؟ ضد بناطيل الجينز الضيقة؟

I’m guessing the Syrian government would not have a problem per se with a hypothetical War on Tight Jeans, but already Shaykh Kuki has entered dangerous territory by insulting a high-level religious figure with highly-charged language. At this point, Kuki is reading these statements from a sheet of paper — these are his planned talking points. Yet can we assume from this that he believed these statements were harmless and would not lead to any repercussions when he returned home? Or can we assume that he felt so passionately about the issue that he just didn’t care what the Syrian government would think?

After this, the debate intensifies and the central reason behind Kuki’s arrest becomes manifest.

NOW I UNDERSTAND

I believe the last three minutes holds the answer to my intial question of what the Syrian government would define as “acceptable speech,” yet questions still remain because the unacceptable words are spoken by the Egyptian guest while Kuki is eagerly trying to re-route the conversation.

Either way, this is about as inflammatory as it gets on Arab television and the Egyptian guest is a total moron for instigating Kuki in this way, knowing full well that these types of comments could lead to his arrest.

Other guest: First is the niqab and not the liberation of the Golan Heights, my Brother Kuki? My religious brother Kuki?
Kuki: Oh, very nice (sarcastic), the niqab is the way to liberate the Golan.
Other Guest: Why don’t you tell President Bashar al-Assad to impose the niqab on Syrian women in order to liberate the Golan, my Brother?
Moderator: Just one second . . . [tries to re-direct debate]
Other guest: Why, why don’t you tell your President — you are the head of a mosque — tell the First Lady in Syria to wear niqab so you all can get back the Golan?
Moderator: My Brother, this is not our subject.
Other guest: Yes, it is our subject.
Kuki: Our issue is not personal — the issue is not personal.
Other Guest: Why? You’re not a Muslim, my brother? Not a Muslim? Not the leader of a mosque? It’s your duty in your first sermon to demand that President Bashar al-Assad put the niqab on his wife. You must demand that he impose the niqab on all the Syrian Muslim women.
Moderator: Ok, this is not our subject.
Kuki: We’re not talking about imposing the niqab.

عبد الرحيم علي: الأولى النقاب ولا تحرير الجولان يا أخ كوكي؟ يا أخ كوكي دينيا دينيا.
عبد الرحمن كوكي: جميل جدا، النقاب هو طريق تحرير الجولان.
فيصل القاسم: أو تحرر الجولان أو تطعم الشعب المصري.
عبد الرحيم علي: ليه ما تقولش للرئيس بشار الأسد أن يفرض النقاب على النساء حتى تتحرر الجولان يا أخي!
فيصل القاسم: بس دقيقة، أو يطعم الشعب المصري مثلا، إطعام الشعب المصري.
عبد الرحيم علي: لماذا، لماذا لا تقول لرئيسك -وأنت خطيب مسجد- وتقول للسيدة الأولى في سوريا أن تنتقب حتى تستطيعوا استرجاع الجولان..
فيصل القاسم (مقاطعا): يا أخي مش موضوعنا هذا. يا سيدي.
عبد الرحيم علي: هذا هو موضوعنا.
عبد الرحمن كوكي: نحن مو قضيتنا شخصية، القضية مو قضيتنا شخصية.
عبد الرحيم علي: ليه؟ مش مسلم يا أخي، مش مسلم؟ مش خطيب إمام مسجد؟ عليك في أول الخطبة أن تطالب الرئيس بشار الأسد بأن تنتقب زوجته وأن تطالبه بأن يفرض النقاب على المسلمات في سوريا..
فيصل القاسم: طيب يا أخي مش هذا موضوعنا، دقيقة يا سيدي
عبد الرحمن كوكي: نحن لا نتكلم عن فرض النقاب..

I hardly know where to begin. I can just imagine the Syrian officials banging their heads against the wall. What puzzles me is, if this is the conversation that led to Kuki’s arrest, can we now assume that the Syrian government will arrest individuals who are merely in the presence of inflammatory speech? I suppose when the speech is this inflammatory, Yes. I’ll break it down:

1. Direct insult to an Arab leader, in this case, the Syrian President. Yet it was not only a direct insult to Assad, but the comments also insinuated that Kuki does not believe that Bashar al-Assad is “Muslim enough.” The Egyptian clearly sought to portray Kuki as a crazed fundamentalist who secretly harbors some type of resentment toward his secular government for not imposing the niqab. The equivalent playground taunt would be, “What? If you’re so Muslim, then why don’t you go preach all this Islam to your secular president and leave us Egyptians alone, you hypocrite! Your government is the most ungodly of them all!”
2. The Golan Heights aka the Syrian Achille’s Heel. The Egyptian nonsensically inserts the Golan Heights into the argument and insinuates that Kuki believes that if his government were more righteously Muslim then they would be able to reclaim the Golan Heights. Then, the Egyptian somehow implies that Kuki is so jaded with his Islamic jargon that he has lost sight of the real battle (the one against Israel) and is now entirely consumed with the niqab. Yet the real reason why the Egyptian brought up the Golan was as a personal jab; he was taunting Kuki and the Syrian government by implying that they are too weak to ever retrieve the Golan.

DOES THIS MAKE SENSE?

If Kuki did not even utter the unacceptable speech, why was he arrested? To put it simply, after that kind of affront to Syrian authority the Syrian government just had to retaliate against someone. And since it couldn’t be the Egyptian guy, it had to be Kuki. Al-Itijah al-Muakkis is one of the most widely watched shows in the Arab world. Thousands of Syrians just heard the unspeakable get spoken and if the government did not proceed with retribution against Kuki, then perhaps other Syrian talking heads who make the rounds on Arab satellite stations would not be as strict in policing their language.

Kuki’s arrest is an affirmation of the following message to Syrians: The Syrian censorship apparatus transcends borders and your very nature as a Syrian ensures that your language will be policed internationally and your very person is bound to the official views of the state.

In my post on Syrian musician Omar Souleyman, I mentioned this youtube clip from Syrian musician Abdel Rizzaq al-Jabouri in order to highlight some of the ways that Syrians from the city centers of Damascus and Aleppo look down on the musical stylings of Syrians from the Jazira Suriya (Eastern Syria). At first, I incorrectly said that Rizzaq’s name was Shawi (as indicated on the youtube clip), but it turns out Shawi is a derogatory term used toward Arabs which could mean Hick or Redneck in English.

Arabic Music Translation has an excellent post re-situating this video clip in the environment in which it was produced. The post notes:

This is a song and video produced by a local production company, likely recorded in the absence of much digital technology aside from the synthesizer known as the Org in Syria. The song, is based on a debke or folk song that exists in myriad forms and has many variable verses and lines that change from person to person and indeed village to village.

The setting is the general area of Deir Ezzor in Eastern Syria on the banks of the Euphrates River, which has a population comprised mainly of a Bedouin and Kurd admixture, and this cultural context gives the music of this region its particular sound.

The post also documents the lyrics in both Arabic and English. The most interesting aspect of this song and musician is how Rizzaq recorded a second video for the Arabic music channel al-Dhahabiya.

Syrian music video director Jamal Baghdadi uses the prototypical video setting/concept seen in many Arabic music clips, but especially those aired on the channel al-Dhahabiya. Baghdadi is a prolific director and even got some attention in 2005 for what some saw as the “excessive quantity of dancers” used in his videos. His defense? He does what the musicians want. The channel al-Dhahabiya is notorious for this style of video (see: Girls Dancing) and to a certain extent, it seems that Baghdadi and his family have a monopoly of sorts in directing the videos of Syrian musicians from the hinterlands.

Rizzaq’s new recording of the song, as pointed out by AMT, is somewhat bland. Producers obviously got a hold of the song and “cleaned it up” for a wider audience, most likely one in the Gulf.

I compiled a list of useful Arabic terms to assist in reading articles on the oil industry.

Account حساب
Barrel برميل
Bids العطاءات
BPD بمعدل أربعين ألح برميل يوميا
Brent مزيج برنت
Capacity (Not up to capacity) لكنها لا تعمل بطاقة كاملة
Extracted Oil النفط المستخرج
Energy Generation توليد الطاقة
Independent Oil Company شركة بترول مستقلة
Ministry of Natural Wealths in Kurdistan وزارة الثروات الطبيعية في إقليم كردستان
Metering System منظومة العدادات
Mismanagement تساء إدارة
Natural Resources الموارد الطبيعية
Natural Gas الغاز الطبيعي
Non-Oil Sector القطاع غير النفطي
Oil Exploration عمليات تنقيب عن النفط
Oil Field (s) حقل (حقول) النفط
Oil City مدينة نفطية
Oil Contracts التعاقدات النفطية
Oil Reserves المخزون النفطي \ مخزونات النفط
OPEC أوبك
Petrochemicals البتروكيماويات
Proceeds (To deposit proceeds) العائدات (إيداع العائدات)
Production Rights حقوق الإنتاج
Pumping/To pump عملية الضخ \ النفط سيضخ بواسطة الأنابيب إلى محطة
Pumping Operations عملية الضخ
Refinery مصفاة
To sit on/rest on يعوم على
Tanks الصهاريج
Valve صمام
Waste Oil مخلفات نفطية

Mo3jam is my new favorite site. It’s the Arabic equivalent of the English-language Urban Dictionary and encompasses several dialects (some better represented than others, that’s you Saudi). I read about it via this article from the Abu Dhabi-based paper The National.

After five minutes of browsing, I’ve acquired several useful terms.

• Usho: Pee in Hijazi.
• Jibtilee al-Samarga’: You’re driving me crazy in Hijazi.
• Gorgait: The Bahrain-ized version of Colgate which serves as slang for toothpaste.

I also learned that Gulf Arabs really like to begin their sentences with “Ya Wad!” (Hey man!)

The site only has 900 definitions available but with more awareness I think it could prove a cool resource for both Arabs and Arabic learners. I just hope that more Levantine, North African, Sudanese, and Iraqi speakers will contribute more. Plus, the more terms are added, the more it would allow for greater specification in the dialects, eventually with words becoming as specific as city to city.

The National article includes a quote from the prototypical professor lamenting how the encouragement and recognition of Arabic dialects is leading to an overall deterioration of the Arabic language and how the situation is so dire that we’re going to need dictionaries to understand our neighbors! I’ll never fully understand why professors who purport the Only-Classical-Arabic-All-The-Time theory fail to recognize how diglossic languages don’t represent “fragmentation” or “tribalism”, they represent the adaptability of a language.

But the site is unique in another way. Many social sites geared toward Arabs paradoxically use English as the central language with the Arabic interface being secondary and not offering as many features. Also, Arabs themselves commonly use English as their lingua franca on sites like Twitter and even the Arab-created Watwet.com. Yet Mo3jam (meaning dictionary in Arabic) is an Arabic-dominated site, with all the definitions of the slang terms provided in Arabic. This results in better definitions and useful contextual examples, plus a site that doesn’t exclude non-English speaking Arabs.

The most compelling aspect of the site is that it will encourage a wider discussion on Arabic dialects, which seems to he happening on the group’s Twitter feed . . . in English.

Here’s an article from Lebanese paper al-Akhbar that comes to the obvious conclusion that Arabs, just like the rest of us, are babbling inanely on Twitter.

(Hans Wehr image from here.)

(A photo I took in Beirut in summer 2008, it reads, “Who’s a fag? Your Mom’s a fag. I’m gay.”)

In Arabic, there are two words used to mean gay: Mithli and Shaz.

I was introduced to the term mithli in an Arabic class and adopted it as the standard term for gay in the Arabic-language. The root meaning is “similar” or “same.” When I moved to Damascus, I stopped hearing mithli and only heard shaz. When a Syrian explained to me the difference between shaz and mithli, it was explained to me that shaz was more of a street-term and more offensive. For example, when Arab male friends want to call a guy a “fag” they will call him shaz and this is not meant to be nice. Then when I came to understand that shaz literally means a deviant or pervert and that this term was used widely in the mainstream Arabic press, I strictly adopted mithli.

An article from Menassat (in English) sums up some very interesting views on the semantics debate, like whether or not shaz can be appropriated for positive use and how individuals are pushing Arabic-language media outlets to adopt mithli instead of shaz. All of this comes to the surface after a case of awkward translation: an English-language book called “Gay Travels in the Middle East” is translated into Arabic literally as “Pervert Travels in the Middle East” since the editors used shaz.

Personally, I’d be keen to read about pervert travels in any country.

(This image has nothing to do with the Yes to Virtue campaign.)

The debate over the hijab is normally of minor interest to me. In the end, it’s a complex mix of personal choice and societal/familial obligation. Yet recent news that the Hamas government in the Gaza strip passed a law imposing mandatory hijab-wearing on female lawyers in court piqued my interest partly because it is part of a wider campaign in Gaza launched last month called, “Yes to Virtue!” (Naam Lil-fadila, نعم للفضيلة)

The English-language press has largely missed out on this aspect of the story, which is weird since it’s ideal for network news fodder. (See coverage here.)

The Ministry of Awqaf and Relgious Affairs in Gaza launched the “Yes to Virtue!” campaign at the behest of the Interior Ministry. Yousef Farhat, a director in the Religious Affairs Ministry told the Lebanese newspaper al-Akhbar that the campaign’s central concerns were the following issues:

1) Mixed-gender nightly gatherings (al-Sahrat)
2) The spread of “closed” coffee shops (meaning ones open to females)
3) Un-supervised internet where one can access obscene material
4) Spread of Tramadol (a pain-reliever)
5) Spread of gum which induces sexual desire in the youth (See here.)
6) Mixing of males and females at the University
7) Scandalous dress at the beach and public places

Al-Akhbar acutely summarized the targets of the campaign to be women and “her use of technology” while building a wider argument that this campaign is just one of many steps taken by Hamas to “islamicize” Gaza. Most telling is the personal anecdote from a Gazan woman who, while swimming at the beach with friends, was nearly arrested by police on charges of “scandalous dress” and “laughing too loudly while swimming.” The woman said she was wearing pants and a blouse.

The woman also complained that the harassment of beach-goers is unbalanced, noting that patrons on private hotel beaches along the Gaza shore are never subjected to such stringent regulations while those on the public beach are frequent targets. That is not to mention the lack of attention paid to male dress.

Al-Akhbar’s main argument is that in the midst of widespread poverty and unemployment, pushing measures that further “islamicize” the public sphere is much easier than under normal circumstances when, you know, people aren’t starving.
Reporting on the internal politics of Gaza is probably one of the most challenging aspects for the Arabic-language press. The factional warfare inside Gaza is well-documented and reporters are not exempt from retaliation or blacklisting if their coverage is deemed unfavorable toward this group or that.

Al-Akhbar’s analysis of the recent events in Gaza is necessary in order to balance out future English-language coverage that might use the Lawyer decision to further portray Gaza as a land teeming with fundamentalism.

The Rise

Omar Souleyman’s rise to Indie-Hipster semifame isn’t difficult to trace.

In 2006, Iraqi-American Mark Gergis (aka Porest) traveled to Syria for the umpteenth time on a mission — to sign a record contract with Souleyman, the Hassekeh-based Syrian musician whose music Gergis had heard (and loved) blaring from the ubiquitous music kiosks in Damascus. (See Gergis interview here.)

Gergis signed a contract with Souleyman and shortly after, the compilation “Highway to Hassake” was released in 2007 through the Seattle-based Sublime Frequencies. Since then, Souleyman has completed his first European tour, gotten almost 400,000 hits on his YouTube video for “Leh Jani,” and released a second compilation album through Sublime Frequencies “Dabke 2020: Folk and Pop Sounds of Syria.” Bjork also listed two of his tracks on her NPR playlist and rumor has it that there’s a collaboration with Damon Albarn on the horizon.

To say the least, this is a bizarre path to notoriety that very few (if any) Syrian musicians of Dabke fame have followed.

The Back-Story

To better understand the rarity of Souleyman’s busting onto the Indie scene, here’s a little context. Hassekeh is a predominantly Kurdish town in northeastern Syria where it is known for being, well, Kurdish. Hassekeh is pretty ethnically diverse, but many Kurds live under the radar in Syria, not possessing equal rights and many times forced to adopt Arab names purely to avoid attention. Still, the Kurdish identity in these towns remains strong and the Syrian government keeps a close eye on visiting foreigners and residents alike. Souleyman himself is not a Kurd, but according to Gergis, many of his musicians are. Nonetheless, ethnic origins usually prove to be an amalgam of sorts.

Since much of the Syrian East is Kurdish and far from the cultural metropolises of Damascus and Aleppo, Dabke music in the vein of Souleyman is often looked at as being “uncivilized” or simply gauche. In fact, anything or anyone that is from the countryside or “reef” is liable to be mocked by many Damascenes for a lack of refinement. Some of this mocking is merely in gest, but other remarks can indicate something deeper.

Just a glance at the comments on this YouTube video clip (in Arabic, but now disabled) from Deir ez-Zour singer Abdul Rizq al-Jabouri, show the type of classist sentiments that can be stirred up from a single clip. The title of the clip is “Come and look at this Donkey (Moron)!” and while the singer’s music video plays, the poster inserts sarcastic comments mocking him until the singer’s ersatz video set is crashed by a flock of sheep. The comments range from debasing the singer personally to insulting the backwardness of Deir ez-Zour.

This is not a complete analysis, but it’s an introduction to how many Syrians would view Souleyman. Now, I uncomfortably await how Souleyman’s music and person will be interpreted by the “West.” So far, the results are mixed.

Souleyman in the “West”

The Pitchfork review of Dabke 2020 gives an interesting though off-base description of Souleyman’s sound by calling it “wild, buzzing Arab New Wave.” It’s understandable that a Western review of Souleyman will interpret his music through a litany of musical movements which are more likely to resonate with a Pitchfork reader than a Syrian Souleyman fan, but some of the descriptors are unfortunate like, a “dust storm swirl of synthesizer.” While it’s not erroneous to interpret foreign music through your own set of musical references, it is an egregious misstep to incorporate Arab cliches in a review that is supposed to be complimentary.

Descriptors aside, it’s the reviewer’s last sentence that — though well-intentioned — is patronizing. He says that for Western listeners this CD is “a chance to know the music of a people [that] politics has long kept at arm’s length.” This is kinda like shipping a Bruce Springsteen compilation to Syria and saying, Behold the Music of America! (Or perhaps it’s the equivalent of taking some esoteric band and tagging it as the Music of America, considering that most Syrians have never heard of Omar Souleyman.)

Syria, just like America, has more than one “music” and Souleyman is just a fraction of it. Would the reviewer take an album from some British band and categorize it as “the music of a people”? Probably not. Yet because Omar Souleyman is from Syria — a mystical land of tribes and reed flutes where apparently people all join together and agree on a collective sound — it’s acceptable to make unfounded generalizations?

These types of statements compounded with a tendency for the “Western listener” to understand music on his/her terms and a refusal to accept that music can serve a variety of purposes in different cultures, makes me even more doubtful that music has the capacity to function as a “cultural bridge” of any sort. Listening to music for pure enjoyment is fine, but no one should claim that it brings them closer to understanding a culture.

Sublime Frequencies and the Half-Truths

As much as I respect Sublime Frequencies (the releaser of the Souleyman discs) for the cool work they do, I also resent the fact that music can be so far removed from its origins as to be stripped of that quality which made it interesting in the first place. Souleyman’s music is captivating not just for its sounds, but also because of the environment in which it was produced. Though Gergis and Sublime Frequencies have to some degree highlighted the origins of Souleyman’s music in a respectful way, I believe that a bit of the jargon surrounding the hype capitalizes on the “exoticism of the far East.”

Also, their portrayal of Souleyman is misleading. The blurb describing Souleyman on their website states point-blank, “Omar Souleyman is a Syrian musical legend,” yet at the end of the blurb they say that that Souleyman’s music was not deemed “serious enough for export by the Syrians.” Now, if this is their opinion — that Souleyman is a legend — then that’s fine, but if they purport this to be a widely-held belief among Syrians, then I reject this statement. To be honest, telling Souleyman’s actual story is probably far more interesting than some minor fictions.

Second to this is Souleyman’s image. I have no doubt that Souleyman’s image is totally genuine and not a construct of anyone but himself. Perhaps this is what makes him so appealing. Yet, intentional or not, I believe one reason why Souleyman has been able to break onto the “Western” scene is because of his “mysterious” look — sunglasses, thobe, kuffiyeh and a poet whispering lyrics in his ear during performances. There are dozens of Syrian Dabke singers whose music parallels the intensity of Souleyman’s, but perhaps they don’t encapsulate the “other” quite like him. Again, I don’t believe that Gergis or anyone tampered with Souleyman’s image to make him more alluring to a Western audience, but when I compare Souleyman alongside other Syrian and Iraqi artists, I understand how he stands out in a crowd and I understand how a Western audience, craving the undiscovered, would see/hear Souleyman and let their preconceptions do the rest.

Either way, for better or worse, Souleyman’s music is now gaining a wider audience and undoubtedly, some will deride that “crazyyy Arabic dancing lolzzzz,” while others will draw interesting comparisons like, “He is the Syrian equivalent to the New York 80s synth/vocal duo Suicide.”

To understand more about Souelyman’s music and lyrics, check out this translation of Souleyman’s song Khitaba (A Proposal) from my friend’s website, Arabic Music Translation.

To a large extent the cult of personality flourishes in many Arab states. I am hesitant to use the word “flourish” only because these cults of personality are mocked by many, and successful only to the extent that it allows the current governments to remain in power. In many ways, it’s the CoP of the past that people continue to idealize. (Ex. Hafez al-Assad’s rule is viewed as the glory days and Nasser still embodies the characteristics of Leader of the Umma.)

For every CoP, there is normally a grandiose title or stern moniker that must precede the name of the beneficent leader, or in many cases the title becomes synonymous with the leader himself. Here’s a breakdown of Arab presidents and their titles, which on one hand indicate the depth of the figure’s narcissism while on the other indicate a leader’s desire to gain legitimacy through a pretense of the democratic process, which of course, only the title President could denote.

LIBYA

Muammar al-Qaddafi AKA The Leader/Commander (al-Qa’id) or The Colonel (al-’Aqeed)

Qaddafi is everything a CoP was meant to be, but in recent years he has shown us that the CoP refuses to age gracefully. 4-hour-long ramblings on whether or not Obama is African get tiresome and purple taffeta suits only detract from his credibility. But Qaddafi is confident and thus took the ambitious route by following in the footsteps of other historical “leaders” such as:

Il Duce Mussolini        Der Fuhrer Hitler     Widaehen Jidoza (Dear Leader) Kim Jong il

Yet with his separate but equally prevalent title “The Colonel” Qaddafi highlights his military cred and triggers memories of the militaristic CoP as embodied by the numerous field marshals that led the wave of revolutions in Africa in the 60s and 70s. Military experience optional.

FM Idi Amin of Uganda      FM John Okello of the Zanzibar Revolution in 64

Note: Okello didn’t really have a CoP, but he did arbitrarily give himself the title of Field Marshal, so that counts.

SAUDI ARABIA

The King of Saudi Arabia Abdullah Bin Abdul Aziz AKA The Guardian of the Two Holy and Noble Sanctuaries (Khadim al-Haramain al-Sharifain)

Probably the loftiest of all Arab titles, the “two holy and noble sanctuaries” is a reference to the Saudi cities  Mecca and Medina which are home to some of the most revered sites in Islam. This full title is written out in most all newspapers in Saudi Arabia and in newspapers financed by Saudi Arabia, most notably London-based al-Hayat. Former editor of al-Hayat Jihad al-Khazin admitted that the newspaper began to use the official title after the paper was bought out a while back.

Since the King’s title is the grandest of the grand, I’ve put him in the same category as another figure whose eyes you probably couldn’t look directly into as well.

Haile Selassie of Ethiopia whose name is his title and it means Holy Trinity.

Yet the Guardian/Protector aspect of King Aziz’s title could place him in the category of other historical father figures, like:

Charles “Papay” Taylor of Liberia and  Ho Chi Min AKA Bac Ho (with Bac meaning Elder)

SYRIA

President Bashar al-Assad AKA Mr. President Bashar al-Assad (al-Sayid al-R’ees)

Really nothing too startling here. When referencing Assad in official newspapers, he is simply called Mr. President Assad. Still, the CoP in Syria is more deeply rooted than in Saudi Arabia. Yet while the CoP reigns at home, the Syrian government is striving for legitimacy abroad and shies away from titles that would make Western presidents appear to be negotiating with a dictator and/or megalomaniac. Hafez al-Assad is referred to post-mortem as the Immortal/Imperishable Leader (al-Qa’id al-Khalid).

I’ll put Assad in the category of leaders who possess real power, but who opted for more subtle and less doting titles, such as Chairman Mao. Another similarity between Mao and Assad is that the latter is also referred to as the chairman of the Baath Party.

Chairman Mao (I don’t know the Chinese translation)

JORDAN

King of Jordan Abdullah the Second AKA His Majesty King of Jordan Abdullah the Second (Jalalat al-Malak)

I suppose there’s nothing excessive about adding in a little “your majesty” to your King title. The official Jordanian newspapers consistently add the Majesty preface when referencing his Highness.

It gets a bit redundant after this.

There’s the sole Arab Sultan in Oman, Presidents in Egypt, Yemen, and Sudan, and even a few Princes in the Gulf, but to be honest, their CoPs are not as strong as the ones heretofor mentioned (Egypt excluded).

The Arab world’s relations with Iran is not uniform and neither is the media coverage. Iran has both its allies and its enemies in the Arab media and below is an overview of the news reports on the election. I’ll break it down by those supporting Ahmadinejad’s victory as legitimate and those contesting the legitimacy (to varying degrees) of the election results.

AHMADI-BYE-BYE

Al-Sharq al-Awsat: The Saudi-owned London-based paper is framing the election as a full-on “battle” between Ahmadinejad and Mousavi. The paper legitimizes the Opposition by referring to the protests as “demonstrations” as opposed to the “riots” label used in other papers. The paper goes further to label Mousavi’s supporters as the “Reformist Opposition.” In an unparalleled move, the paper is publishing photos of Iranian security forces in civilian clothes harassing demonstrators. (This has wider implications because many Arab readers will draw a direct parallel between the undercover security forces in their own country.) I won’t simplify the paper’s editorial decisions as an indicator of its willingness to tow the Saudi line, but their coverage clearly pushes in favor of a new Iranian regime.

Al-Quds al-Arabi: The Arab world’s token recalcitrant newspaper is clearly in favor of “reform” in the Iranian government. Just like al-Sharq al-Awsat, the election is not just an election — it is a struggle between the reformers and the hard-liners.

Al-Jazeera: Any time there are street demonstrations of a political nature, regardless of the country, al-Jazeera will be there. The top breaking news on al-Jazeera’s site is that two Mousavi supporters were killed by “militants’ bullets” and articles begin by describing the massive crowds that have gathered to support Mousavi. Their coverage is comprehensive and puts CNN to shame. On top of their coverage, the channel is monitoring Western media coverage of the elections, allowing the viewer/reader to put events into context and not be overwhelmed by the constant stream of raw information.

AHMADINEJAD MIGHT’VE WON

Al-Manar: I suspected that Hezbullah’s satellite channel would be lauding the election results after its secretary general Nasrallah sent a congratulatory letter to Ahmadinejad, but Hezbullah’s loyalties are to Khameini and since Khameini has called for the review of election complaints, the channel is regurgitating his official statements. Al-Manar refers to the protesters as “demonstrators” and is providing ungarnished information about the elections. If anything, the channel is taking direct statements from Iranian officials, re-wording them, and adding in up-to-date information. Overall, the channel is downplaying the reactions on the Iranian street and will be supportive of any official government conclusions on the integrity of the vote.

HE WON, STOP ASKING QUESTIONS

State Media in Syria: Even though the most important story today in the Syrian press is President Assad’s trip to Armenia, I’m going to make a very general statement that is supported by my quick read-through of the Syrian state-media (al-Baath, al-Thawra, and al-Tishreen) and say that they support an Ahmadinejad victory and don’t want to agitate relations with Ahmadinejad in any way. The public face of the strong Syrian-Iranian ties has been strategic buddy shots of Assad and Ahmadinejad. To even begin to suggest that the Iranian public might have been electorally swindled is a big no-no.

Also, the state media is treading lightly around the issue considering that the Iranians have a real Opposition which is contesting election results openly and demonstrating in the streets. The Syrian press seeks to delegitimize the Opposition at any cost and refers to them as “rioters” and claims that the Iranian police have arrested individuals who sought to “incite violence.” A true depiction of the Iranian security forces roughing up innocent protesters and silencing dissent would ring too many bells at home.

I expected slightly different coverage from the only private newspaper in Syria, al-Watan, but was dissapointed. The paper is private only in name, but its reporters are given more leeway in reporting foreign affairs. I suppose Iran is not foreign enough. The paper had a mere two articles on the election and didn’t stray far from the official line.

(Map from BBC)

A dissident political party has spun from the ranks of the Sudanese People’s Liberation Army — the de facto ruling party in autonomous Southern Sudan — which will be under the leadership of former SPLA official Lam Akol. Using all anonymous sources, al-Sharq al-Awsat reports that SPLA dissidents formed the party after grievances with corrupt leadership and administrative failure in Southern Sudan. The source said:

We are a popular party holding principles which we will fight for, but we found that administrative failure and corruption in Southern Sudan under the current leadership of the SPLA called for the formation of a new party to correct matters in the South and to implement a peace process.

The new party is called the Sudanese Popular Movement for Democratic Change and sources claim it will ally itself with Hassan Turabi’s Popular Conference party. The anonymous source also emphasized that Akol is not the “president” of the party — he is the spiritual, political, and historical leader.

All this takes place in the context of Sudan’s upcoming elections to be held in July.

Al-Sharq al-Awsat is a Saudi-owned, London-based newspaper and I’ve found that its position on Sudan pretty much reflects Saudi’s position, meaning Sudanese President Omar Bashir is a menace to peace and stability and is attempting to sabotage any prospects for legit elections in July. Albeit, this analysis is not too far off, but it’s interesting to contrast al-Sharq al-Awsat’s coverage with outlets like Qatari-owned al-Jazeera which give Bashir ample air-time to make breathy speeches on Arab unity.