There is so much attention on the Middle East at the moment, with the now 3-week stand-off against Mubarak, with the Jordanian king releasing his entire government and appointing new people, with stirring protests in Yemen, and the Tunisians cheering that their chased-out leader is now being brought up on "crimes against Tunisia."
It is true, the amassed fortunes (in billions) of Mubarak and his family are despicable in a country where the vast majority of Egyptians live on less than $5 a day. It is also true that Ben Ali and his family in Tunisia siphoned massive amounts of their country's wealth into their own personal bank accounts. This is what I hear from my teachers who are Egyptian and Tunisian. This is confirmed in the news.
Here's what I also hear in my school (no sweeping generalizations here...just the women who work in my school!). Some Egyptian women are very afraid of swift change because the women and children are most vulnerable. While the men are all out in the streets being political, the women and children are at home with no protection. Looters have entered their homes knowing that they could easily take what's inside. A vacuum of power would be scary. The Muslim Brotherhood is not "equal" to Al Quaida, as it's been mentioned by some media. The Tunisians are thrilled that Ben Ali is gone. The Syrians are happy that there are no protests in Syria. They are happy with life there as it is right now. The Palestinians are used to all of this.
And the Emiraties. They remain eternally and deeply thankful and proud of their rulers. Last year when I was getting to know the women I work with, I did a "speaking assessment" in which I asked the question, "Describe somebody you admire." I had several women speak about Sheik Zayed. Their father, they call him. The father of their people. (Talking about him actually brought on tears for two women.) Not their nation, but their people. He gave, he shared, he had a revolutionary vision, he put his people first, he gave citizenship to orphans from other Muslim countries, he made sure people had homes if they chose to move out of the desert to the city. It's now his son who rules the UAE, after an older son tried but was decided to not be cut out for the job. The other sheiks of other Emirates are noteworthy and well-loved. The UAE has activated a policy of "Emiratization" in which more and more Emiraties are to be educated, trained, and appointed jobs within their own country. They've been going out to England or the USA for university education; they bring their ideas back to the UAE, where they are rewarded and cared for in appreciation for their contributions. Now there are universities beefing up their facilities here so that their own people can get a good education at home.
It's easier, I'm sure, for people to be happy with their sheiks here. It's a wealthy country with a lot to share. It's also a place where, yes, protests are illegal. You cannot protest against the government; you cannot choose to be a different religion if you were born here. You must abide by the laws of Islam if you are Muslim; if you are not, you are governed by a different set of rules--the rules that are dictated by your religion so long as you don't disturb others from practicing Islam. Yes, women can drive, and many do. Yes, they can go out unaccompanied, though many do not. Yes, they are deeply religious, deeply caring, extremely generous, very open-minded, and tolerant without needing to alter their own beliefs.
The other night I came home from yoga and stopped at a nearby bakery for bread. I ran in to get my bread, waited for some time due to the chaotic disorganization of the ladies working behind the counter, joked with an Emirati man who was waiting forever to get a cake for his sister's birthday, eventually got my bread, and went out to find that my car wouldn't start. After a few failed phone calls to colleagues (none of whom had jumper cables), I decided I'd just ask the next man who walked out of the bakery. Sure enough, the first man said he'd help me. He lifted the hood of my car, had a look, had me try to start the car one more time, and then went to his trunk and pulled out a battery. Completely new. Tried to start the car by touching his full battery against my dead one. But it sparked and gave him a little shock. So he went back to his car and got a wrench and proceeded to dislodge my battery from its casing. He put his battery in my car, asked me to start it, and sure enough, it worked. He then told me to just keep his battery. I protested and offered to give him some money at the very least, which he refused. He simply said he was happy he could help, and told me his name was Mohammed.
Yesterday I did an English lesson with the principal. After discussing verbs and expressions related to Heads of Departments, she started talking about Arabic grammar, which lead her into a discussion about Islam. She knows the Holy Quran very well. She didn't want to stop talking about all of the ways that the Quran helps Muslims live their lives. And then she asked if I've read books about Islam. I told her that I have, although I've probably read more about Islam from a political and social perspective, not a religious one. She said that it's such a beautiful, peaceful, loving, and generous religion, and that the people who use the name of Islam to carry out hateful and deadly acts are not really Muslim. They don't understand, she said.
This sentiment is something I hear over and over. The Muslims I know here are not ashamed but sad about the way that Islam is portrayed and understood in the West. And they are right to be sad. They would also be right to be extremely frustrated. In light of the upheaval and the renewed spotlight on the Middle East, there is also renewed criticism of Islam (in broad, sweeping generalizations, but nonetheless, it's being put out there). When I read about people who actually write/say things in response to this change--which is quite positive for the people!--like "Islam kills and it always has," or "Why is Islam allowed in the US?" or "We must fear Islam," I am outraged. Living in a Muslim country has been an eye-opening experience that has easily challenged any preconceived notion I may have come here with. This has been a deeply personal experience of getting to know Arab and African Muslim women who could not imagine their lives without Islam. They tell me that the notion of "converting" religions is unthinkable; being Muslim is a part of their everyday lives. And they are some of the warmest, most generous, curious, genuinely welcoming people I've ever met. I wish their perspectives and profiles would be included in the reports on "life in the Middle East" so that more people OUTSIDE this region could gain a wider picture of what it means to be Muslim, Arab and/or Middle Eastern.
