The Media Center, which organized the We Media conference I attended at the beginning of May in London, has asked a few people who attended the event to write a series of blog posts, called "We Inform." The first subject is Middle Eastern media.
Arash Abadpour, to whom I've linked many times on this blog. He writes prolifically and brilliantly about Iran at Kamangir. Somehow he also finds time to work on his PhD at a Canadian university.
Alan Abbey, formerly the editor of Ynetnews; information about his current doings can be found on his website, Abbey Content
The hottest topic in Tel Aviv is how the hell to find an (affordable) apartment. Vacant apartments are snatched up within hours of being listed. Landlords are greedier and nastier than ever.
Yes, we have a housing crisis. It's not just that rents are up (they are, by about $100 per month for standard one and two-bedrooms), it's that there are almost no inhabitable apartments available. And when I write "inhabitable," I point to this listing on homeless.co.il, the portal for renters who are too cheap to pay an agent's fee (i.e., most Israelis).
Don't read Hebrew? No problem - allow me.
"For rent, fully renovated apartment, architecturally designed, four westward-facing windows, new kitchen and shower, near the beginning of Dizengoff Street, about 100 metres from Habimah [home of the Israel Symphony Orchestra and the National Theatre, in the heart of Tel Aviv], the apartment is at the back of the building and quiet. It is at basement level." (my emphasis).
Look, there are even photos of this beauty:
Yes, for a mere $620 per month, all this can be yours. Check out the view of the cinderblock wall! Prescription for Prozac to ward off the environmental depression, not included.
Okay, I've lived in Manhattan and Tokyo; in the latter I paid $900 per month to inhabit room 206 in this indescribably depresssing gaijin house, together with 17 housemates. The walls were so thin that I could hear the girl in the next room turning the pages of her book - I kid you not. So I suppose I shouldn't complain about Tel Aviv rents. Unfortunately, though, times have changed - and so has my income.
In other words, I think I'll be staying where I am for awhile. Be it ever so humble... (and believe me, it is).
Perpetual Refugee is doing something very interesting to Lebanese and
all Arabs I presume. The first time I met Israelis in Aya Napa, Cyprus, I was filled with curiosity and apprehension. To me, it was like
meeting Martians for the first time, IN THE SENSE that a)I never
actually thought I would meet one, and b)the way they are portrayed it
is as if they are not really human, really real. So it was an
interesting experience for me to realize that when it is all said and
done, we are all human beings after all.
From the diary of Neda Sarmast, an Iranian woman who participated in Breaking the Ice, a peace mission that took Muslims, Jews and Christians on an arduous trek across the desert, from Israel to Libya, during her first days in Israel.
At this time, the
government of Iran knows no greater enemy than Israel... and it doesn't
make much sense to me when I look in the eyes of a fellow human being.
I just see another person and wonder to myself, how would this world
look if we all simply agreed to disagree and just looked at each other
and fellow planet mates as equal children of God. Maybe it's naive and
a lot to ask for and quite a lofty thought - but I do believe.
An Israeli friend with whom I shared a hotel room at a workshop for Palestinian and Israeli journalists in Jordan last March (photos here).
I always felt threatened by the sound of spoken Arabic. I'm glad that I have an opportunity now to get over that fear. And it's good to talk to them and discover that they're really human beings just like us.
Conversation with a 36 year-old Palestinian journalist friend over lunch at Stone's Restaurant in Ramallah. He:
You know, it took me 32 years to see Israelis as human beings.
Check out the tabs on the top of the site: there's one for Hebrew blogs and one called "our neighbours" that is a link to Toot.
[If you're an Israeli "Anglo" blogger and you don't see
your blog on Hanan's site, then click on the "contact" tab and send him
an email.]
Hanan, Hanan, how can I praise thee? Let me count the ways...
1. Last year he wrote this article for NRG, the news site owned by Maariv newspaper, in praise of Israeli blogs in English. I posted a translation of the article here;
2. When I originally wrote about Toot, the site that aggregates Arab blogs, he was the first Hebrew blogger to promote it to his readers and become an active commenter on blogs he found via Toot;
3. He has a habit of investing a lot of time and effort in pro bono projects (no details here - he'd be embarrassed), and he never asks for anything in return.
When European knee-jerk leftists tell me that true justice (justice for whom?) can only be found in a one-state solution, I often tell them, "You know what? You're right. We should live in a border-less world. I love singing Imagine in the shower. But you know, Europe is so much more enlightened than the Middle East. So why don't you guys make one big border-less continent from Russia to the United Kingdom, including Turkey, of course; live in it for - oh, 10 years - and lemme know how that works out for you."
Email from a friend: "Go back to writing more about yourself / people and
less about media events. Sorry to be so dugri.*
Reaction from a fellow blogger at our first meeting. "I thought you'd be more of a leftist. Maybe a lesbian or a hippy or something."
Warning from a friend during a fascinating conversation at a cafe: "Don't you dare blog about this conversation!"
Article in the New York Times Sunday Magazine: Where have all the Lisas gone? Reminded me of how amusing - in an irritating sort of way - it is to have a name that is basically the Jewish equivalent of Jane Smith.
My favourite name-related anecdote: When I lived on the Upper West Side of Manhattan (where it's pretty much assumed you're Jewish unless you say you're not) I went to take out a membership at a neighbourhood video library. The guy who entered my details on the computer asked if I had a middle name. Yes, I said. Why? "Because we have 94 Lisa Goldmans registered here," he answered.
My mood today: Hmmm. Pensive and moody. My neighbour is playing Albinoni's Adagio at full volume. Yo, Yaniv! You are not helping my mood!
Blue-and-White Everest By Tzadok Yechezkeli/Yedioth Ahronoth
Israeli mountain climber Dudu Yifrach, who arrived last weekend at the peak of Mt. Everest at an altitude of 8,800 metres, initially planned to wave only the Israeli flag. But in the end he decided to wave the Palestinian flag too - as a tribute to his Palestinian comrade Ali Bushnaq, who climbed with him but did not make it to the summit. Yifrach told Yedioth Ahronoth yesterday: "It was the minimum that I could do for him. He gave up on the climb to the peak when he understood that if he continued, he would risk the lives of us all. I'm already thinking of my next mountain," said Dudu, who set out on the trek with a group that included another Israeli, Micha Yaniv. (my translation).
"The most touching part
of this whole afternoon was when Micha called from the North Col from
his radio. He did not hear the news that Ali turned around and would
not be joining them on their summit attempt. When Ali answered the
radio call Micha was shocked - and when hearing the bad news, he
started to cry over the radio."
L to R: Dudu Yifrach, Ali Bushnaq and Micha Yaniv
I have a huge soft spot for tough guys who know how to cry.
"Newspapers should have the slogan '85 percent of the contents are probably true,' on the front page," said one of the speakers at the We Media conference.
That remark got a cynical, knowing laugh from the audience, which was composed largely of people who work - or had worked - in the media. Reporters know how easy it is to get a quote or fact wrong, or even a whole story; most shrug the pitfalls off with the old saying that today's newspaper is tomorrow's fish wrapping.
But Richard Dreyfuss pointed out, in his talk at We Media, that the age of instant information has created the age of instant reaction. It took Elizabeth I six weeks to learn that she had been insulted by Philip of Spain, said Dreyfuss, and of course at least as long for Philip to hear her response. Today the story would be published online and reported on television nearly as soon as Philip uttered the insult. And Elizabeth would be expected to respond immediately, lest she be accused of weakness. In the age of instant communication we don't have time to think, analyze and consider long-term consequences before we act. There's too much pressure to respond immediately, or to file the story before the evening deadline. And yes, this can be pretty dangerous: "Act now, think later" is not a great method for handling international relations.
I was thinking about Dreyfuss's anecdote while following the instant reaction to this story published in Canada's National Post on Friday. According to the article, which was written by an ex-pat Iranian journalist, the Iranian parliament was considering a proposed law that would require non-Muslim citizens to wear clothes that were colour coded to identify them by religion - red for Christians, blue for Zoroastrians...and yellow for Jews.
Even normally level-headed politicians like Yossi Beilin expressed instant outrage. Nobody stopped to think: Who were the sources quoted in the story? Were they credible and was there good reason to believe they had access to accurate information? How about the head of the Jewish community in Iran - did the reporter contact him for a statement? Is there a response from the Iranian government in the article? Has anyone actually read the proposed law?
Arash, an Iranian blogger whom I respect immensely for his intellect and levelheadedness, is certainly no fan of Ahmadinejad's. He did read the proposed bill, and posted the English translation on his blog. He called the post Badges for Jews, a Hoax. Turns out that it's about mandating an Islamic style of dress in Iran, but makes no mention of minorities.
But even before he obtained and translated the proposed bill, Arash had some well-founded doubts about the story.
First, the approval for the report comes from "Iranian expatriates
living in Canada". To my understanding, and with all respect to the
people who have been exiled from their mother country because of the
Islamic Republic policies, these people's sources of news are nothing
more than an average Canadian's ones. Take me for example, I read news
in Google News and the Iranian news agencies. So, I would have nothing
to add to these sources. Second, the report says the law "must still be
approved by Iran's "Supreme Guide" Ali Khamenehi before being put into
effect". Unfortunately, this is not exactly how the Iranian
administration works. According to the law, bills passed by the
parliament should be approved by the Guardian Council, a twelve-member
chamber six of whom are selected by the supreme leader.
Within hours, the National Post posted a retraction of the story on its website. But by that time a whole lot of important people and organizations, including the White House, had made some pretty heated statements.
Given that Ahmadinejad has been making a total ass out of himself over the past year, with widely quoted statements that call for Israel to be wiped from the map and several denials of the Holocaust, it's easy to understand why most people were willing to accept the veracity of Friday's story.
But that's an explanation, not a justification.
Now I'm wondering how many people have heard that the story was false, and how many are still walking around believing it's true. I suspect there are more of the latter than the former.
So okay, 15 percent of what's reported in the daily newspapers is probably inaccurate. The problem is, how do we know which stories are false? The answer is, there's no way of knowing - at least not right away. So it might be a good idea to think a little before opining and reacting.
And here's a little confession: The truth is that I've known since Friday afternoon that the story was false, but I didn't bother to blog about it because I just didn't think it was that important. Then I read Judy's post and I realised that I've become a bit too world weary lately. And that's dangerous, too.
A couple of years ago, a friend of mine returned to Israel after she and her husband had spent several years in Silicon Valley, where he worked for a start-up. They missed their families, their friends and their Tel Aviv lifestyle, and had worked out a system whereby he could work from Tel Aviv, via the Internet, and fly to meetings in California every month or so.
Over coffee a few weeks after they'd settled into their new apartment, she told me about a hilarious email her husband had received from a colleague who was based in South America. The colleague had a friend who was in the international calling card business, and he had a client in Beirut who was waiting for a shipment of cards. The colleague wanted to know if my friend's husband could take the cards with him when he flew to South America the following week, then drive up to Beirut after he returned to Tel Aviv and deliver the merchandise. That way, the colleague said, his friend could avoid potential problems with Lebanese customs. The colleague had taken a look at a map, concluded that Beirut was a mere three-hour drive from Tel Aviv, and that the trip would no doubt be an easy weekend jaunt.
When my friend finished telling her tale of the email, we both snorted into our cappuccinos. We couldn't believe that there were educated people in this world who thought it was possible to drive from Tel Aviv to Beirut. Ha!
Then we reminded one another that the "dream" had seemed like imminent reality only a few years previously, before the Oslo Spring skipped summer and went straight into the Autumn of our Despair - practically overnight.
This friend is descended from a very old Sephardic family that used to have branches all over the Middle East - in Alexandria, Cairo, Jerusalem, Jaffa and...Beirut. Her grandparents still speak to her in Ladino. Today most of the family lives in Israel, 'though some members scattered to Paris and New York in the decade or two following 1948. She told me that one of her great-aunts who had been born in Jaffa had studied at the American University of Beirut during the late 1930s, and that she used to travel between between the two cities via train.
We both thought this sounded very glamorous and cosmopolitan. On the other hand, a three-hour commute by inter-urban train from Long Island to a job in Manhattan did not sound glamorous at all. But a lot of people make that three-hour journey quite regularly, without thinking much of it.
Photo: Salwa Ghaly
This is a photograph of the Magen Avraham Synagogue in Beirut (I think some of the damage was caused by the Israeli air bombardment in 1982). I found the photograph on this blog, and followed the link to more photographs here.
I'm discovering a lot of wonderful Lebanese bloggers lately, for obvious reasons. Actually, I guess we're discovering each other. Here's an excerpt from a post Laila wrote a few days ago:
Did you know that for people (nations) to co-exist under the same roof (sky) they need to smile in the morning, or else everyone will have a shitty day and dread coming home in the evening? Or that they might even start destroying the furniture in one of their routine rage fits? Did you know how many amazing Israeli bloggers are out there? People just like us, all they want is peace and quiet, a "normal" life so to speak. And did you know that so much communication and rational discussions are going on between Arab and Israeli bloggers? Between Syrian and Lebanese bloggers? And that if this evolved and expanded we might actually have a chance to co-exist in the not so distant future?
I would love to drive up to Lebanon with a bunch of Israeli friends, cross the border using our Israeli passports, hang out at a bar in Beirut with Laila, the Perpetual Refugee and Lebanon.Profile and attend a performance at the Baalbeck Festival. It'd be a lot more fun than flying alone from Tel Aviv to Cyprus, leave all evidence of my Israeli citizenship there, and then, with my Canadian passport, continue on to Lebanon - where I would have to keep my south-of-the-border residence a secret from most people.
It's hard to believe, now, that once - not so long ago - that was all possible. It seems that we've been going backward.
Perhaps we can use the internet - that wonderful tool - to rebuild connections, understanding and community...and start going forward. Again.
Actually, I think we're off to an interesting promising start.
I suppose we might have met when we both lived in Toronto, that Canadian megalopolis that I picture now as a huge, deep bowl filled with immigrants from every corner of the globe. A place where people from warring nations live side-by-side and discover that they share a common horror of the cold and a common longing to "go home." And a common, albeit unspoken and sometimes begrudging ("it's boring here"), gratitude to the country that offered them a peaceful place to rest.
But we didn't meet in Toronto. We met in Tel Aviv. And it felt sort of clandestine, not because of who he is and who I am, but because of what he is and what I am, and where we live. Which, when you think about it, is absurd.
We sat at a restaurant on the beach and talked about life and the Middle East, and life in the Middle East, and we solved all its problems in three hours, over a good bottle of wine. The fact that he is incredibly smart and cool helped a lot.
If only everyone would listen to us, the Middle East would be such a great place. :P
See that sweet-faced guy on the right? His name is Alaa Ahmed Seif al-Islam. He and his wife Manal, pictured on the left, won a special award from Reporters Without Borders at the 2005 Deutsche-Welle Blogging Awards for their aggregate blog, Manal and Alaa's Bit Bucket. The couple is famous in the Egyptian blogging community for their democracy activism; their blog provides a valuable service by aggregating all the Egyptian blogs.
Last week Alaa and several others were detained by the police while demonstrating peacefully in support of the independence of the judiciary in Egypt and the release of demonstrators who were detained two weeks earlier. This appears to be part of an ongoing government crackdown on pro-democracy activists.
Alaa and the rest of the group that was kidnapped yesterday, will be
detained for 15 days. They didnt go directly to the prison as we
thought, but spent the night at the Khalifa’s police station and are
supposed to be transferred to the prisons now. The 3 women will go to
El Qanater prison, as Tora prison where the rest of the 40 detainees
are held has no section for women, and the men are supposed to join the
rest and go to Tora prison, but some think that they will also taken to
El Qanater prison (which has sections for both men and women).
Click here to read a complete summary of what Egyptian bloggers are reporting about the detention of the demonstrators. The Egyptian Sandmonkey has templates for letters of protest to be sent to US and Egyptian officials here.
A bloggers' campaign to free Alaa has been set up here.
Rachel Rawlins, the managing editor of Global Voices Online, suggests that we use a Google bomb to shame the Egyptian government into freeing Alaa and the other detainees. Here's how it works: link the word Egypt to the Free Alaa! blog as many times as possible, and you will help push it higher on the rank of Google searches for Egypt. In other words, people searching for information on Egypt will find the link to the Free Alaa! blog.
This is one of those stories that you probably wouldn't hear much about if not for blogs. There are thousands of people detained unjustly all over the world. Mostly, we never hear about them - or if we do, we just shake our heads at the horror of it all and go on with our lives. Here's a chance to do something.
I'm not saying that you should skip that planned vacation in the (Egyptian) Sinai this year. I don't actually believe in boycotts that are more likely to hurt poor people who are trying to make a living in the tourist industry than affect government policy. But there's no conflict of interest between lolling on a beach in the (Egyptian) Sinai and protesting the (Egyptian) government's unjust detention of a citizen who was simply demonstrating peacefully. There are already reports of the detainees being mistreated - food is being held back, a diabetic has been denied his insulin. Egyptian prisons are notorious places - torture is common. Fifteen days would seem like an eternity, and that term could be renewed.
Update: Mary Joyce has set up a Wiki with URLs for all the blog posts that contain Google bombs for Alaa. Click here to view. For those of you who know how to use Technorati tags (that doesn't include me just yet), she also suggests adding the tag googlebombingforalaa to your post.
Israeli bloggers - I think it would be a really nice gesture on our part if we were to make an effort to support democracy in the Middle East by participating "en groupe" in the Google bomb campaign to help free Alaa. How 'bout it? It doesn't take much: Check out the examples on the Wiki to see how short your post can be - just linking the word "Egypt" once to the Free Alaa! blog is enough.
During the lunch break at today's We Media conference, I discovered that the first post-prandial panel was going to be about media in the Middle East. I happened to be talking to a Persian-British woman journalist, who is half Jewish and half Muslim, at the time; when we discovered that the panelists were all male Arab journalists in their fifties, we looked at each other and rolled our eyes.
I immediately chased down the panel moderator and insisted that - hello?! - this female Jewish Israeli journalist who has a few years to go until menopause would like to talk about the very interesting conversation going on between Arab and Israeli bloggers right now, plus the rather striking difference between what Al Jazeera reports in Arabic and what it reports in English.
"Oh!" said the panelist, with a bright American smile and uncomprehending eyes, "Interesting! But, well, it might be a bit off topic. We'll try to get to you during the Q & A session."
Never fear, I didn't leave it at that. I made sure that the conference organisers knew about my desire to speak, and during the discussion I positioned myself in the first row, directly in front of the panel moderator, and I kept my eyes locked on him.
The panelists included Rami Khoury, the editor of the Lebanese Daily Star; Jihad Ali Ballout, Director of Al Arabiya's corporate communications; Saleh Ngem of BBC's Arabic service; and from Iraq by satellite Zuhair Al-Jezairy of Aswat Al Iraq.
None of them had heard of blogs. None of them was interested in the fact that Israeli, Palestinian, Jordanian, Egyptian, Lebanese and Saudi bloggers are writing and talking to and about each other and, linking to one another. None of them was interested to learn that quite a few of us are discovering that the Middle Eastern media is doing a pretty crappy job of getting beyond the cliches, the slogans and the dogma, and that we made that discovery through blogs.
Rami Khouri said that westerners have three main misperceptions about the Arab media: 1. The Arabic media deliberately incites anti-American sentiment, when in fact it is a mirror reflecting the society to which it broadcasts. The ideas and thoughts coming out of the Arabic mass media are often critical of israel, Arab regimes and America becaues that is what people are saying; 2. Al Jazeera is a mouthpiece for Bin Laden and terrorist groups because they put their tapes on air. Khouri said this was an unfair accusation. The tapes are newsworthy and any media organisation would broadcast; 3. Regarding accuracy, this is what Rami said (and I quote): "I've spent the last 5 or 6 years watching Arab, European and American mainstream cable and satellite television, and I'm prepared to bet a double felafal with hot sauce that content analysis will show Al Jazeera and Al Arabiya are more comprehensive, nuanced, accurate and balanced than any American station."
Even PBS? I wondered.
Okay, so after the panel had finished its (not very relevant, interesting or new, IMO) spiel, I got up and talked a bit about the Israeli and Arab blogospheres. None of the grumpy old men reacted. Not a one. I don't think they'd ever read a blog in their lives.
Then I told Rami Khoury that I have a friend who speaks fluent French, English, Arabic and Hebrew, and that he sent me the following comparative translations of the Arabic media's reporting about a suicide bombing in Hadera last October:
Al-Jazeera was definitely the most hard-line, calling the bombing "'amaliyah fida'iya"(same root as fedayeen) meaning sacrificial operation, and they showed a photo of the last Netanya attack using the even stronger "'amaliyah istishadiya"- matyrdom operation. Also they never once quote Israeli sources. Their English page was a completely different story, calling it "a blast" and a "human bombing"(what the fuck is that supposed to mean?!).
Al-Arabiyya was, as usual, more objective, calling it "hujum intihari" a suicidal attack. And they quoted Israeli radio, Israeli TV and the Magen David Adom.
Elaph.com, a liberal on-line Lebanese daily called it "'amaliyah tafjir" a bombing operation. and also quoted numerous Israeli sources.
Rami looked a bit uncomfortable. Well, he said. Maybe that's what someone who called in to comment on the report said - not the actual reporter or news anchor.
No, I said politely, I don't think so. I'm pretty sure that's straight reporting I'm quoting.
Oh, said Rami. Well, Al Jazeera has changed a lot lately.
Um, this report is from five months ago, I answered. (still polite)
Well, said the moderator, Moving right along... (I'm kidding, that's not exactly what he said; but the subject was definitely changed).
Afterward, a BBC Arabic service reporter approached me, gave me his card, asked for mine and said he wanted to be in touch.
Then I went downstairs for a cigarette (sorry, Mum, I haven't quite given up yet) and met Rami leaving the building together with the American guy who'd moderated the panel.
The American guy and I smiled and shook hands. I put my hand out to Rami and, smiling, said, "It was a pleasure to meet you."
And for one horrifying split second I thought he was going to refuse to shake my hand. I saw the thought flash across his mind, I'm pretty sure. But then he reached out and grasped my outstretched hand, smiled briefly, and walked on.
And I was left feeling a strange combination of disatisfaction, bemusement, amusement, irritation and frustration.
So here we are at the gorgeous new Reuters building in Canary Wharf. It's a world away from the BBC building in West London - and not just physically. The BBC seemed stodgy, adversarial toward bloggers and defensive. They seemed desperately anxious to be dynamic, modern and cutting edge, but painfully aware that something stops them from being so. They just couldn't figure out what it was. My impression was that they understand bloggers can't be ignored, but are more interested in undermining them with a smug, "we have the monopoly on the truth and we are professionals and you're not" attitude than seeking ways of cooperating with and learning from them.
On the other hand, Reuters feels self confident and very dynamic. They seem far less afraid of changes in how the news is reported than the BBC - in fact, they seem quite open to the idea of a mutually cooperative relationship (this is just my initial observation/feeling; it might change over the course of the day).
The fact that the BBC is government-funded and Reuters is a profit-oriented business forces me once again to face my ambivalence about capitalism versus (moderate, Scandinavian style) socialism. (more on that later, perhaps - again, it's difficult to formulate and articulate my thoughts while people are talking all around me).
Interesting story about Reuters, which considers itself very objective: a lot of Israelis jokingly refer to it as "Al Reuters" (a play on Al Jazeera, which many Israelis think is hopelessly biased against "the Zionist entity"). On the other hand, I've heard Palestinian Reuters reporters complain that they were prevented by their editors from writing about the bereaved parents of suicide bombers in a way that showed the parents did not celebrate their child's death, did not support suicide bombings and did not think their dead child was a shaheed (martyr) who was on his way to paradise.
What freaked me out a bit was that the Palestinian Reuters reporters who complained about being censored by their editors, insisted that some vaguely defined "Jewish lobby" in the USA had put pressure on Reuters to prevent them from "humanising" the suicide bombers. I just found that hard to believe, and of course the term "Jewish lobby" reeks of conspiracy theory. Unfortunately the Middle Eastern attitude toward conspiracy theories, even amongst intelligent, educated people, is too often a variation on "just because I'm paranoid, doesn't mean there's nobody out to get me."
But my point is, Reuters is seen as lacking objectivity by both Palestinians and Israelis. On the other hand, Palestinian and Israeli Reuters reporters work together, in the same office in Jerusalem, sometimes covering the same stories.
Here's the thing: On the one hand I don't want to "dis" the Beeb because they did a nice job of hosting the conference yesterday and it's not nice to insult one's hosts. On the other hand, let's face it - the BBC has some non-altruistic reasons for hosting the conference. So I'm just gonna say it as I see it - with classic Israeli straightforwardness, tempered by the remaining shards of my Canadian politeness and reticence.
The big issue here, the one that everyone's dancing around, is this: the MSM have recognised blogging for the phenomenon that it is and they want to figure out a way to harness it in order to make money.
The thing is, bloggers aren't in it for the money - at least, the vast majority are not. (I know of only a few exceptions).
A few months ago, Yael and I spoke about the blogging phenomenon to the faculty of communications at Ben Gurion University. After we'd given our spiel about how blogging was building communities and bridges, spreading information, providing nuance, correcting half-assed mainstream media reporting and so on, Ben Caspit came over to me and said, "I just don't get it."
"What don't you get?" I asked.
"I don't understand why anybody would invest time and effort in writing a blog for no money! Why do you do it?"
I posted about the talk given by Tom Glocer, the CEO of Reuters at this morning's opening session, because I had to uphold part of the deal: We Media paid for me to attend this conference, and in exchange I wrote about part of it on the conference blog. But I'm really glad I had to listen to Tom's speech closely, because he had something important to say: the fact is that people in western democracies are voting in declining numbers, but on the other hand they do not trust the media (this according to a BBC poll done before the conference). It seems that the percentage of voters is declining because citizens do not feel that their vote translates into a voice. And perhaps blogging is a way of making one's voice heard - of forcing the politicians to hear.
My question is, are they listening? And what does it say about the state of democracy in the western world if citizens are simultaneously mistrustful of the democratic process and skeptical about the willingness/ability of the media to provide truthful, in-depth and thoughtful reporting?
I'm typing this up quickly during the conference; it's noisy and distracting here, so forgive the typos and lack of, um, cohesion... ;)
One of the things that struck me today during the conference was that the most prominent European and North American bloggers appear to be men. In the "western" world, which is the cradle of the modern feminist movement, the blogosphere appears to be mostly a boys' club. I don't read many North American female bloggers, but just off the top of my head I think mainly of women who blog about their babies (Dooce), or that woman who blogged about working her way through the Julia Child cookbook in a year (didn't she end up with a book contract in the end?).
On the other hand, when I think about my favourite Middle Eastern bloggers - the ones I read regularly because they are creative, intelligent, insightful, opinionated and daring - I realise they are mostly female. And they don't write exclusively about babies, cooking and kitty cats, either. I mean, they do write about those subjects, when they are part of their lives - but they are not the raisons d'etre for their blogs.
Neha said the same is true of the Indian blogosphere - that the best, sharpest blogs are written by women. This, from the land of arranged marriages, dowries and bride burning.
And we both noticed, too, that female bloggers are more likely to be flamed than male bloggers. That is according to our observations - if you think (or have experienced) differently, please say so in the comments.
How did it happen that two region of the world that are not exactly well known for promoting and protecting feminism have managed to produce so many serious, fearless female bloggers?
Meanwhile, one of the most famous female British bloggers writes about why her boyfriends is "a twat" (and yet a former prime minister and current head of state are women).
The United States produced Betty Friedan and Gloria Steinem ('though not a female president), but its most famous female bloggers are writing about cooking French food, raising a child (and dealing with chronic constipation) and the trials of finding a husband.
Surprise! I'm in London, attending the We Media conference. Today we're at the BBC complex in West London, talking about the issue of trust and the media. Do you trust the media? Do you think you can obtain accurate information from the television news and morning newspapers? Do you think that blogs are a more reliable and/or accurate source of information than the so-called mainstream media (MSM)? How are blogs and citizen journalists changing the way you understand and analyse the news - if at all?
During the second part of the morning session we heard an excellent talk from Nitin Desai, special advisor to the UN for the World Summit on an Information Society. He spoke about how technology, bloggers and the conventional media can work together to effect regime change. I'll write more about his intelligent and thoughtful analysis of how conventional media + technology + online communities = people power that can (and has) effect regime change.
At one point Mr. Desai used Neha and Dina's tsunami blog (wiki here) as an excellent example of grassroots disaster reporting. Neha is sitting beside me right now, by the way; we met this morning for a pre-conference coffee near my "simple" hotel (Desk clerk to irate me when I arrived to check in at midnight: "But Madam, in London it is very common to put hotel rooms in the basement. The room is very clean, very nice").
The last time I saw Neha, who is GVO's regional editor for South Asia, was in December, at the GVO conference; we talked each other's heads off then, and just picked up where we left off this morning.
I'm finding it very difficult to simultaneously blog about this interesting event and pay attention to speakers, so for now I'm going to focus while you peruse these links:
I'll be updating later on today; stay tuned for more info as soon as there's a break.
Your thoughts and observations, please! My blog is on live feed to the conference participants and Global Voices, so this is your chance to make your voice "heard" (as it were).
The truth is that I find Yom Hazikoran (Memorial Day for Fallen Soldiers and Victims of Terrorism) pretty difficult to handle - almost unbearable, sometimes. It's too immediate, too personal. The whole country is silent and permeated with sadness. And I don't feel like writing more about it this year, sorry.
One thing I have learned is not to watch television any time between 8 p.m. on the eve of Memorial Day until nightfall the following day. There's nothing to watch except heartbreaking interviews with grieving families and mini-documentaries, composed mostly of home video footage, about sparkling young people who died just when their lives were starting. Back-to-back, all day long. It's just too much - for me.
In my last post I wrote that I'd list some of the Arab blogs I enjoy reading. Recently Savtadotty took me to task for not fulfilling my promises re. upcoming blog posts (Um, Japan, anyone? Can't seem to spit that one out. Oh yeah, and the workshop in Jordan...) so this time I decided to prove that I am, indeed, a trustworthy blogger.
The following are not the only Arab blogs I read - you can find lots more on my blogroll, or on Toot. This is just a short list of the ones I go back to the most often, because I enjoy them. (I also read lots of blogs I don't exactly enjoy, but find interesting). Oh, and just 'cause I enjoy reading them, doesn't mean I agree with everything they write. I mean, that should be self-evident, but then again you never know. So I'm just sayin'.
Saudi Arabia
I'm starting with Saudi Arabia because it seems like the most mysterious and unknowable. I guess most people associate Saudi Arabia with women who are shrouded in abayas and are not allowed to drive, abused foreign workers, Osama bin Laden, that trashy book that I'm a bit embarrased to admit having read, and fabulous oil wealth. Saudi bloggers open up a window into their society and show us tech-savvy twenty-somethings, teenagers who listen to western pop music and feminists with very strong opinions. Oh yeah, and they're not all rich. ;)
Ahmed of Saudi Jeans is a 20-something student at King Saud University in Riyadh. He writes short, link-rich posts that are often very personal - like the one about the birthday of his little brother and the death of his father - but he also gives fascinating insights into everyday life in Saudi Arabia, like photos of a CD shop that does not allow female shoppers or just tidbits about his student life. He also doesn't hesitate to criticize his own government and society, in a balanced way that I find very refreshing. Through links on Ahmed's blog, I found some amazing female Saudi bloggers, like:
Jo, whose blog is called A Thought in the Kingdom of Lunacy. The quote at the top of her blog is, "How fortunate for leaders that men do not think."
Also via Saudi Jeans, I discovered Alien Memoirs, by a Saudi woman who is studying in the United States. AM is very smart, very informative and equipped with a sense of social justice that fairly vibrates off my monitor.
Jordanian
I've mentioned Roba and Lina many times, but I'm always happy to have another opportunity to mention these two fabulous women. Their blogs are just a delight - full of insider's information about Amman, links to cultural events, personal musings and much more. I met them both in Amman (photo here) in March, and was not at all surprised to discover that they are exactly as I imagined them.
Ahmed Humeid - funny, smart, wise, and also very sweet. He's also a one-man cheerleader for the Jordanian blogosphere. Next time I go to Amman, I want to meet Ahmed.
Tololy's Box has an enviably fab design. This Circassian-Jordanian woman writes about art, literature and her personal life in beautiful prose. She is also fluent in Italian. Next time I go to Amman, I want to meet Tololy, too.
Lebanese
Michael met Mustapha in Beirut and said he's a pretty cool guy, which makes perfect sense because he sounds pretty cool on his blog. From Mustapha I have learned that there is a large Lebanese community in Ghana, for some odd reason. In fact, Mustapha divides his time between Lebanon and Ghana. Oh yes, and he's also the Lebanon contributor for Global Voices Online.
And also because of Michael, I just discovered In Lebanon. Smart, articulate, sensitive... All the good stuff. I'm hooked already.
And if you read Middle East blogs but haven't heard of Big Pharoh or the Egyptian Sand Monkey, then you don't really know the Middle Eastern blogosphere.
*****
I did plan to go on, truly I did. There are a few more blogs I wanted to mention. But. I am tired, I have a pile of work to do, this post is taking forever to complete and it is late. Keeping promises, it appears, is an exhausting businesss.
So here's the deal: I'll keep linking to Arab blogs in future posts, when relevant, and you won't get on my case for only half delivering on my promise.
