tag:newamericamedia.org,2009-04-06://19 2013-05-21T19:42:28Z New America Media is a nationwide association of over 3000 ethnic media organizations representing the development of a more inclusive journalism. Founded in 1996 by Pacific News Service, New America Media promotes ethnic media by strengthening the editorial and economic viability of this increasingly influential segment of America's communications industry. tag:newamericamedia.org,2013://19.11466 2013-05-22T07:25:00Z 2013-05-21T19:42:28Z

Paul Nathanson ]]> http://publisher.namx.org/mt-cp.cgi?__mode=view&blog_id=19&id=103 WASHINGTON, D.C.—As advocates for elders and people with disabilities anticipate President Obama’s choice of a new Social Security Commissioner, a group of us from the Strengthening Social Security Coalition presented our recommendations at a briefing on Capitol Hill last week calling for changes to improve the Social Security Administration’s (SSA) ability to serve large numbers of the program’s most vulnerable beneficiaries. That includes lower-income individuals, especially immigrants and those from ethnic groups.

The Social Security Coalition includes over 320 national and state organizations representing more than 50 million Americans. Our “Transition Report for a New Social Security Commissioner” covers a range of concerns from the agency’s overloaded staff to SSA’s need for enhanced research on retirement and disability.

Almost 2 Million Elders

One factor underlying all of these issues in our increasingly diverse population is the need for greater access to assistance for individuals with limited English proficiency. The organization I direct, the National Senior Citizens Law Center (NSCLC), whose staff helped coauthor the new report, has shown, that those struggling to understand English face serious obstacles in learning about and gaining access to government programs, such as Social Security.

The 2010 U.S. Census contains some startling statistics related to the number of older adults who are not proficient in English. More than one in seven (14.2 percent) of our nation’s 43 million adults 65-plus speak a language other than English at home. Among them, almost 2 million elders are considered Limited English Proficient (LEP), a term the federal government has standardized to refer to those who speak English less than “very well.”

The new report, developed with a range of organizations, such as the National Women’s Law Center, the Diverse Elders Coalition and Latinos for Secure Retirement, states, “It is essential that SSA communicate with individuals in a language in which they are proficient and that up-to-date informational material on benefits be provided in a variety of different languages.”

Among those applying for Supplemental Security Income (SSI)—people requesting a small boost in their benefits because they have extremely low-incomes, a third seek this additional income support based on old age. Previous analysis by SSA showed that almost four in 10 of those older adults asked the agency to receive assistance in a language other than English.

Early Language-Access Leader

Previously, SSA was an early leader in language access among federal government agencies. For example, after SSA installed point-of-entry kiosks in its local field offices some years ago, advocates pointed out that they were generally working in English only. SSA instructed local offices to make them available in several of the most commonly spoken languages.

In fact, SSA has a very good policy of providing interpreters. It requires its offices to provide an interpreter at no charge on request and prohibits the use of children as interpreters. And the agency requires the same policy for state agencies performing disability determinations (DDSs).

However, as our report states, “At present, implementation is spotty, with advocates reporting that in many SSA offices LEP individuals are still asked to bring their own interpreters.”

Simply put, it is crucial that SSA communicate with individuals in a language they understand. And it needs to do more to ensure that its offices apply these regulations uniformly.

That means the administration needs to require more resources for training SSA personnel on the interpreter policy—including the additional time necessary to interview an individual with an interpreter.

The report also calls on the new commissioner, when appointed, to implement a systems change to fully implement SSA’s interpreter policy. Currently, SSA asks people for their language preference when they apply for benefits. But if the person doesn’t answer or the reply isn’t clear, the program defaults to English. SSA needs to eliminate the English default option.

In addition, SSA has increasingly come to rely on the use of telephone interpreter services as a primary means of serving LEP individuals. Although these are useful for simpler requests, telephone interpreter services should not be permitted for handling more complex matters and certainly not for administrative hearings or conferences.

The report recommends, “The best and most economical means of serving LEP individuals is through the use of bilingual SSA employees.” We believe that before picking up the telephone to call a general interpreters’ service, agency offices should look for an interpretation-trained SSA employee, someone who knows the program, is more apt to be more sensitive to the person’s needs and understands the confidentiality requirements.

Serving Immigrant Communities

As we concluded in the report, “The new commissioner needs to make a concerted effort, as hiring opportunities arise, to hire more bilingual staff for assignment to field offices,” particularly where there is a high level of language access needs, such as newer immigrant communities.

Currently, SSA provides its notices in English. And it offers only some, but not all, in Spanish. The agency provides none of its notices in any other language. To address this, SSA needs to provide all notices in Spanish and in other major languages spoken by recipients of its programs. It also needs to do a better job of identifying the language spoken by each of the people it serves.

Even though SSA has a number of publications on its program benefits in 16 different languages, these are only available online and are no longer stocked in local Social Security offices. A majority of people over age 65, especially those with low-incomes and those with limited English proficient, still do not have consistent Internet access—in any language—including African-American households.

Clearly, SSA policy needs to be rethought and informational publications should be made available to those who visit local Social Security offices.

The ability for all those who receive Social Security or Supplemental Security Income benefits to understand their benefits and their rights is essential. With the appointment of a new Social Security commissioner, NSCLC and other advocates believe these and other fixes can and should happen.

Paul Nathanson directs the National Senior Citizens Law Center. He co-chairs the Strengthening Social Security Coalition’s Adequacy of Benefits Committee and NSCLC staff contributed to new report.



]]> tag:newamericamedia.org,2013://19.11374 2013-05-06T13:43:09Z 2013-05-07T17:41:51Z

Sandy Close ]]> http://publisher.namx.org/mt-cp.cgi?__mode=view&blog_id=19&id=26 Traducción al español

Editor's Note: Ahmed Rachidi, a native of Morocco who has been a British resident since 1985, was held in extrajudicial detention in Guantanamo from March 2002 to May 2007, when he was released without charge. Now 47, he is the author of a memoir about his experiences in Guantanamo, called The General: The Ordinary Man Who Challenged Guantanamo, co-authored by Gillian Slovo and published in March 2013. NAM editor Sandy Close interviewed Mr. Rachidi by phone in his home in Tangier, Morocco where he lives with his wife, mother and three children.

Why did you call your memoir "The General"?

Because I was one of a limited number of prisoners at Guantanamo who spoke English, I was often forced to be an "unofficial leader" by guards and interrogators. They nicknamed me "the general."

How were you released?

I was released in May 2007. I was on the "cleared for release" list for one year before I was released. Although I was a British resident and had worked as a chef in London for 16 years, I was repatriated to Morocco. I was never allowed to regain my passport so I was unable to return to London even for the release last March for my memoir.

How did you go from being a chef in London to being a prisoner in Guantanamo?

I had traveled to Islamabad in the late summer of 2001 on a one-month business visa. When I saw television coverage of Afghan refugees fleeing US air strikes across the Pakistan border, I wanted to help. It's the kind of emotional response you have when you see disasters. I thought I would volunteer for a week -- the border was not far away. But I wound up in the middle of a war zone. There was nothing I could do. When I crossed back into Pakistan I thought I was safe. I was riding in a car with five other passengers but the car was stopped at a Pakistani army checkpoint. After 44 days in a Pakistani jail, I was traded by Pakistan intelligence to the FBI.

Were you the only prisoner "cleared for release?"

At any one time there are as many as 50 or 60 prisoners on the "cleared for release" list, including Shaker Aamer, a native of Saudi Arabia. He is the last British resident held in Guantanamo. President Obama claims that those who are cleared for release can't go back either because they will face torture in their home countries, or because their governments don't want them back.

Is that true?

That simply is not true. For the last 11 years the British people have been campaigning for the release and return of Shaker to his family in London. And the U.S. has already sent dozens of prisoners back to countries like Yemen and Saudi Arabia.

How did you know Shaker?

I knew Shaker in the isolation box. Like me, he was a father. I can tell you that a father in Guantanamo is a desperate father knowing that his kids are growing apart and away from him. They are growing away from him without his knowing, without his care, without his affection and attention. So a father in Guantanamo is simply a devastated father.

Can you tell us about the hunger strike?

Shaker is one of over 100 prisoners in Guantanamo who have been on a hunger strike for almost three months. The Obama Administration claims they are on a hunger strike because they want better treatment or better food. But that is not true. They are on a hunger strike because they want justice. They want freedom. They want to go home to their families. And this time they will not quit.

Where you ever on a hunger strike?

I was on a hunger strike many times in Guantanamo. Food is the only comfort that prisoners have in their cell. So when there is a hunger strike that means that the prisoners give up their one source of peace and comfort. They allow themselves to fall into a deep coma. It's like crawling with your weak body into this dark tunnel with no light at the end of it.

What makes them quit?

During one hunger strike in 2006 the prison commander assigned me to a special block to take care of prisoners he said were coming out of the hospital. But they were actually coming from isolation blocks that were kept ice cold. Each prisoner was shaking, each prisoner had a bruised nose with dried blood and black ringed eyes that were petrified. Everyone complained of gut wrenching pain and bleeding hemorrhoids. Soldiers would insert feeding tubes with such force and no anesthetic through their noses and throats while they were strapped to chairs. Then the soldiers would pour medication to make their bowels move. After half an hour they would wet their pants and defecate. They would be left for hours like that. If they vomited, the soldiers would repeat the process. By using these tactics, they stopped the strike. Even I begged the administration to stop.

What is your biggest worry right now?

This will be the last hunger strike. To stop eating is the only way prisoners can exert any control when they are powerless. But this time Shaker and the other prisoners don't have the same strength, the same energy they used to have. Mentally and physically they are very weak. I am worried that something can go wrong, that someone will lose his life.

The hunger strike has gotten President Obama's attention. Has that helped?

President Obama said that he is sending 40 doctors to Guantanamo. Prisoners don't need doctors. Prisoners want to go home to their families. They have been crying out for justice for 11 years. To hold someone for 11 years without trial, without charge, is a crime.

What is the message of the hunger strike?

Guantanamo is a concern to every human being who believes in democracy, who believes in human rights, who believes in the rule of law. We don't have a lot of time. We need to come together to force President Obama to restore the rule of law and put an end to this disgrace.

See a video of Ahmed Rachidi speaking about his time in Guantanamo.
]]> tag:newamericamedia.org,2013://19.11365 2013-05-05T08:00:00Z 2013-05-09T16:47:10Z

Pictured above: Alexandra Minter at the Tufts University student center Photo by Nina Porzucki / PRI's The World Alexandra Minter, a sophomore at Tufts University was working on a video for her Arabic class last Monday when her classmate...

Nina Porzucki ]]> http://publisher.namx.org/mt-cp.cgi?__mode=view&blog_id=19&id=103
Pictured above: Alexandra Minter at the Tufts University student center
Photo by Nina Porzucki / PRI's The World



Alexandra Minter, a sophomore at Tufts University was working on a video for her Arabic class last Monday when her classmate checked Facebook and saw there was an attack on the Boston Marathon.

“And then once people started making accusations as to who it was, we were sitting there and I was telling the girl next me I really hope it wasn’t a Muslim,” says Minter.

Minter’s is not a typical story. She grew up in rural Wisconsin. Her mother converted to Islam after marrying her stepfather who was from Morocco. While Minter accepted her mother’s conversion, the teasing began at her school.

“I got called Arabian girl,” she says.

About a year ago Minter decided to convert too. When she first put on a hijab, things changed.

Minter’s only been a practicing Muslim for a little more than a year but already she’s experienced prejudice in Boston.

“I’ve had people ask me weird questions on buses before or just get uncomfortable and get up from seats on the train,” Minter says. “I wear a headscarf so for a lot of people that creates fear, but I’m worried that it’s going to happen more now.”

The second looks on the bus Minter gets, and her hope that the Boston bombers weren’t Muslim – none of these feelings surprises her classmate Chowdhury Shamsh who is the head of Tufts’ Muslim Student Association.

“It’s not going to stop unfortunately. That’s something that she’s going to have to live with,” says Shamsh.

Shamsh grew up in New York City. He was only 10-years-old when the Twin Towers were attacked. It was a turning point, not just in his life in the US but as an American Muslim.

“We were a model minority and nobody thought twice about having a Muslim sit next to them on the train,” says Shamsh.

All that changed post 9/11 says Shamsh. His mother warned him against becoming a Muslim leader on campus, practicing his faith so openly.

“She says why can’t you just practice and just keep it in your room and don’t be too open about it,” he says. That pressure to stay under the radar makes him feel like a part of a group that’s supposed to feel culpable somehow.

“I don’t know how much is in my head because of the media, and the portrayal, it may be internalized it may not be real but I do feel different because of the color of my skin or my religion,” he says.

When news broke about the bombings, the media went into overdrive hypothesizing about who could have done this including many reports about race and religion of the possible suspects.

“The way that even our justice system and media talk about incidences based on the identity, race and religion of the perpetrator is also something that feeds into why our community fears backlash,” says Linda Sarsour, head of the National Network for Arab American Communities in New York.

Minutes after the bombings, her 14-year-old son texted her asking, “Mom, who did it?”

“It’s hard to tell kids that it will be better because every time I say something really terrible happens and it gets kids back to the mindset but I didn’t do that,” says Sarsour. “It’s traumatizing as a adult to not be able to tell young people that everything is going to be okay.”

But Shereen Shafi, an undergraduate studying International Affairs at Johns Hopkins University in Baltimore sees a silver lining.

“I had to respond to peoples’ attacks and that led me to look more into the faith itself and also the history surrounding it,” Tshafi says.

Shafi’s parents, both doctors, came to the US from Pakistan 20 years ago. She was born here and has only been to Pakistan once, when she was six. Growing up, her family observed the Muslim faith. She went to Sunday school, celebrated Eid, but being Muslim wasn’t a huge part of her identity, she says, until her faith got more and more scrutinized.

“I think that’s the case with more and more believers having it made a big deal strengthened my connection to the faith and faith community,” she says.

Shafi feels angry at the brothers who attacked people, at the racial profiling of Muslims, at the fear she’s felt these past few days when heading outside alone but it’s more complicated than pure anger.”

“People get angry at Osama Bin Laden for making Muslims look bad and I think that’s generally how I felt when I was younger,” Shafi says. “At this point, because these kids were just your average teenagers … the older brother had some issues. I feel more sad that someone would be driven to do this. I do feel angry at the way they make Muslims look. I guess I’m upset that people are extrapolating from them to the broader community.”

There’s sadness but each student was also quick to point to a hopeful future. Shamsh, the Muslim student leader at Tufts, put it like this:

“America’s not perfect but the beautiful thing about America is that there’s room for improvement,” says Shamsh.


]]> tag:newamericamedia.org,2013://19.11332 2013-04-27T08:10:00Z 2013-04-27T14:44:49Z

Maziar Shirazi ]]> http://publisher.namx.org/mt-cp.cgi?__mode=view&blog_id=19&id=103 PHILADELPHIA -- It’s not every day that an American physician gets asked to function as an international pharmaceutical supplier, but for some, it’s becoming a regular occurrence.

A doctor I know told of a patient getting ready for a trip to Istanbul, where he would connect with Iranian friends. The patient asked for a prescription for a diabetes medication, “The most you can write for,” he said. The doctor was puzzled: his patient did not carry a diabetes diagnosis. “It’s for my mother,” came the response. “It’s getting very difficult to find this medicine in Iran, and she’s going to run out soon.”

Healthcare professionals report acquaintances, family of family, and others recently approaching and asking for all sorts of medical supplies, ranging from anti-maceration medications for the bedridden, to insulin pumps.

Reading the news in the comfort of my home, I’ve come across more troubling stories -- patients dying from shortages of needed medication, or waiting years for organ transplants only to find themselves without the medication needed to prevent rejection of the donor organ.

Why are the people of Iran in the midst of a medicine shortage?

In 2010, then-Secretary of State Hillary Clinton stated that the United States had begun discussions with allies regarding methods of "pressure and sanctions" to counter Iran’s nuclear program, emphasizing that the goal was to stop the Islamic regime without harming innocent civilians. Specifically, she said the U.S. government’s aim was “to pressure the Iranian government … without contributing to the suffering of ordinary [Iranians].”

More recently, David Cohen, Undersecretary for Terrorism and Financial Intelligence at the U.S. Treasury Department, made similar comments, saying that “we have no quarrel with the people of Iran” and that “the ultimate objective is to try and slow down the development of Iran’s nuclear program … not to make food and medicine scarce.”

In clinical medicine, design and implementation of interventions, ostensibly in the service of improving care, is a common undertaking; when we see that an intervention is not achieving its stated goals, or in fact harming patients, substantial corrective action is indicated, even if it means abandonment of the intervention altogether.

In this vein, how do the intended effects of sanctions imposed on Iran by the U.S. government and others compare with the actual effects?

The value of Iran’s rial has plunged, and its economy is in shambles; Iran’s nuclear program, on the other hand, is alive and well. Vice President Joe Biden practically bragged of the economy-crippling effects of the latest round of sanctions during last year’s vice presidential debate, even as his Secretary of Defense acknowledged that despite U.S. efforts, Tehran remained intent on advancing its nuclear program. Indeed, the IAEA’s latest report shows that if anything, Iran is likely expanding its enrichment capacity.

Iran’s civilians, however, find themselves in the midst of one of the worst medical supply shortages in the nation’s long history.

Several prominent health professionals within Iran have called attention to the plight of vulnerable patients as a result of the sanctions. Ahmad Ghavidel, head of the Iranian Hemophilia Society, a nongovernmental organization that assists some 8000 patients, characterized the situation as “a blatant hostage-taking of the most vulnerable people.” Fatemeh Hashemi, of the Charity Foundation for Special Diseases, has publicly voiced concerns about impaired access to life-saving treatments for patients with multiple sclerosis, cancer, end-stage renal disease and other illnesses, as a result of the sanctions.

Many diseases such as hemophilia require advanced medicines that are simply not available in Iran for a variety of reasons including patent laws and access to specialized raw materials and technology for manufacture — such medications and materials have to be imported, mainly from Western nations.

While the U.S. government states that there are exemptions for food, medicine and remittances, the timely receipt of the right quantity of medicines is not as simple as submitting a request to the Treasury Department. A Wilson Center report found that it is the sanctions affecting the majority of large Iranian banks (and the international and US-based banking institutions that would do business with them) that have most affected the availability of medicines for purchase and use.

“Iran’s own mismanagement of the situation has aggravated the problem, but it is not the root cause of it,” the authors stressed. “While the list of issues leading to the supply crunch is long and complicated, at the heart of it all are the obstacles that sanctions have created in denying Iran the necessary banking operations and limiting its access to hard currency.” Simply put, “the pronounced role of sanctions in creating shortages of life-saving medical supplies and drugs in Iran may have been unintentional, but it is also irrefutable.”

The report goes on to say that the main beneficiaries of the sanctions have been Iranian government-owned businesses, which often get preferential access to currency, as well as smugglers and black market dealers who are buying up medicines and selling them (or knockoffs of them) to civilians with high markups.

Others are now beginning speaking out. Ahmad Shaheed, the United Nations special rapporteur for human rights in Iran, who has been vilified by the Iranian government for his investigations, feels that sanctions could “absolutely” worsen the human rights situation in Iran. In a situation where shortages of medical supplies are created, he said, “the most vulnerable people suffer immediately, and over the long term there is wider suffering caused.”

As a citizen, I wonder how this is accomplishing the stated objective of the U.S. government to pressure the Iranian regime while preventing the suffering of Iranian people. As a clinician, an Iranian-American, and most importantly a human being, I am wondering when substantive corrective actions are going to be taken by our government to modify the sanctions (the recommendations of the Wilson Center report are a good start) and attempt to alleviate the harm done to innocent civilians.

Maziar Shirazi is an Iranian-American family physician completing his residency training in Philadelphia.  When he is not working, he freelances and plays capoeira.
]]> tag:newamericamedia.org,2013://19.11327 2013-04-26T08:30:00Z 2013-04-27T15:03:41Z

Ed. Note: The Boston Marathon bombings have raised questions over how young immigrants in this country are impacted by the experience of war and trauma in their homeland. This week the New York Times reported on research that showed young...

Suzan Al Shammari ]]> http://publisher.namx.org/mt-cp.cgi?__mode=view&blog_id=19&id=103 Ed. Note: The Boston Marathon bombings have raised questions over how young immigrants in this country are impacted by the experience of war and trauma in their homeland. This week the New York Times reported on research that showed young people from countries racked by violence often struggle to adapt to life in the United States. In 2010, 16-year-old Suzan Al Shammari arrived in California after years fleeing violence with her family in Iraq and later in Egypt. Below she recalls her experiences, and how they have shaped her integration into life in the United States.

LOS ANGELES – Like the suspects behind the Boston attacks, my family fled violence – first in Iraq, then later Egypt. The constant moving made me feel I was neither Iraqi nor Egyptian, and even now that I am in America I don’t feel like I have a country.

But being in America is something I’ve always wanted.

I was 7 years old when I lived through the war in Iraq. When I look back, what I remember most is the violence. I sometimes wake up in the middle of the night in terror, remembering the missile I heard passing my family’s home in Baghdad before hitting an electric company next door. Right then I thought I would never feel safe again.

One day my school was destroyed in a bomb attack. Fortunately we were on break. Later, my dad began to receive threats from local fighters because he was the vice president of a company that once helped identify the bodies of those killed by Saddam Hussein’s security forces.

What I remember of Iraq is the terror and violence. I still love my country, but I wished I had a normal life there.

But I also remember the American soldiers I met. I never cared what people would say about Americans. When they came by my house giving out food and candy, I would see the smiles on their faces and felt they were like superheroes. They came from a different country and were protecting strangers. I knew right then my dream was to go to America because only there could I feel safe.

We left Iraq in 2006, when I was 9-years-old, and moved to Egypt. I knew no Iraqis there, and even began to feel Egyptian. But I was torn between two countries, and two identities.

All we wanted was to escape the death in my country. Unfortunately, shortly after we arrived in Egypt I learned my cousin back in Iraq had been killed. He was Sunni, while his killer was Shia. His death and the constant violence – all in the name of Allah -- prompted my parents to begin questioning Islam. We converted to Christianity the next year.

For the first time, I felt something new. I felt reborn and at peace, even though we were at risk for what we’d done. Because of religious discrimination, we were in greater danger than we had been in Iraq. I know that people have been jailed or tortured in Egypt for converting from Islam.

So in my school I was known as Muslim, and outside I was Christian. If I told friends or classmates that I was Christian, my family and I might be put in danger.

Finally, in March 2010 we landed in LAX, arriving in the United States as refugees. It was like something you’ve always wanted and that you finally get, but you don’t believe it. Even on the plane my family couldn’t believe we were actually going to be in America. I’m thankful. Looking back to when I was in Baghdad, it seems like a really long and tough fight to have gotten here.

But even now it’s still hard to get used to the fact that I’m safe. For 8 years each day of my life I thought would be my last. So now, as good as it feels to be safe, it still seems different -- a feeling I’m not used to.

And while I’m active with social clubs and everything else in my school, I see people that are born here, people that have a normal life, and I reflect on my own past. They never moved anywhere else; they have family here, they have cousins. I feel like the only person without roots. My whole family is scattered across Europe and Iraq.

Still, I try not to look back too much because it just takes me into a deep hole. If people ask me about how I identify, I tell them I’m American. As much as I’m torn between 3 different identities, America is the country that took me in and allowed me to feel safe. My country offered me terror and violence, America offered me peace and a new beginning.

Suzan Al Shammari is a high school student in Los Angeles. She wrote this piece for Long Beach VoiceWaves, a project of New America Media. 
]]> tag:newamericamedia.org,2013://19.11298 2013-04-22T08:10:00Z 2013-04-25T23:28:21Z

Mohamad Ozeir ]]> http://publisher.namx.org/mt-cp.cgi?__mode=view&blog_id=19&id=103 Second of two articles. Read part one here.

Editor’s note: The following article, posted April 25, 2013, includes revisions correcting errors in an earlier version.

DEARBORN, Mich.--Parked in front of a typical Michigan colonial house, a social worker, who works with elders, is waiting for me. She has agreed to introduce me to an older woman, as long as the meeting is discrete. As I approached the social worker’s car, she looks around to make sure we won’t be watched as we walk up the driveway.

“The residents of this street are all Arab Americans and I don’t want any neighbors to see us coming in. I don’t want to get the lady in trouble with her family,” she explains.

At the side door of this three-bedroom home, we are welcomed by Hajji Fatimah, who is known by the name “Um Kassem” (mother of Kassem, her first son), a traditional Arabic way of addressing parents.

‘I Feel Like a Captive Here’

When asked how she feels about America, Um Kassem replied, “It is a great country. But nothing is better than your own country.”

“But isn’t America your country now,” I said?

“Well, I wish I came here much younger; maybe then I can say yes. But when I don’t go outside this house unless I go to the doctor, the social service office or to a funeral, I cannot say it. Back in Lebanon I was free to go anywhere I wanted in the town. I know everyone there. Here even I cannot visit the few people I knew from back home. No one has time to take me or to bring them over,” said Um Kassem.

I asked if she regretted the move here.

“It was not up to me. But I would have been better if I didn’t come. I feel like a captive here. I have nowhere to go, nothing to do besides babysitting and house chores. In the beginning I was occupied with the kids but as they got older and went to school I got more and more alone. My daughter-in-law is busy with her friends and, if not, she is driving the kids to their school and events.”

What are your activities in your free time?

“I mostly watch Arabic TV. But when the kids are home I cannot because they watch their own shows or play their games on every set in the house. In the summer I walk down the street to see an old friend of mine. Besides this I go to the doctor and the social service office when I need to update my papers.”

Um Kassem said she has thought about moving out and living on her own, but she wouldn’t want to embarrass or upset her family. When she got into the subject with her son once, he didn’t approve of the idea.

Lack of Programs, Invisible in Research

Before parting with the social worker who arranged the interview, I ask her what is being done for people in this situation. “So far, very little. We don’t have programs or resources. We try our best to help them to get the services that are available, but the cultural barriers make it difficult even for the little that we can do. As long as we don’t have a tailored program that takes into consideration the religious and cultural aspects, our role will be very limited.”

Such a program requires funds. To obtain the needed funding, an organization needs to compile several pieces of data, including the number of potential beneficiaries, the scope of service, an explanation of why there’s a need to establish a specific program outside the general available services, and evidence of sufficient public support.

None of this data is available currently. According to Amne Talab, social services director at the Arab Community Center for Economic and Social Services (ACCESS) in Dearborn, Mich, there are no surveys or studies concerning Arab American elders. Fortunately, ACCESS and the University of Michigan are working on a joint venture to fill this gap.

The lack of information in this field is what drew the attention of Sonia Salari, a professor of family and consumer studies at the University of Utah, Salt Lake City.

Salari said that in her study of Arab and Middle Eastern Americans, titled “Invisible in Aging Research,” she was “surprised to find the lack of information not only about aging issues, but about most of the social issues facing Arab Americans in this country.”

She explained, “The notion of the strong relationships among Arab American families hides the fact that elders are deprived of some basic services. Although there are a lot of similarities in issues for all elders, cultural and religious considerations make it harder for Arab American elders to benefit from the available programs.”

Salari considers social isolation to be the most profound problem facing Arab American elders. For instance, it is especially challenging for older women who have been divorced their husbands. They are often stigmatized by having made this choice and become isolated later in life. She called for more studies to be done aimed at better understanding these problems and formulating ways to address them effectively.

Kristine J. Ajrouch, a sociology professor at Eastern Michigan University, encountered the same vacuum of information when she began her research 10 years go: no data sets, no surveys and no studies.

Younger Arab Americans she interviewed echoed the traditional notion that Arab Americans value their parents and would never “put a family elder in a nursing home.” But, she found, the same youth “had never experienced living with an aging family member, such as grandparent, because their parents were immigrants” and did not have first-hand experience with old age.

Overall, Ajrouch said the Arab American community has been very supportive of her research. However, some individuals have dismissed her efforts as “a waste of time, because we don’t have a problem.”

On an organizational level, she has been frustrated with the standard reply, “Even if we define the need, we cannot do anything about it due to the lack of funds.”

Bringing the Elders to the Table

In a recent focus-group study of aging Muslims, Ajrouch said she found that “men were much more inclined to want family to be their sole source of support in times of need in their later years, while women were more open to considering ways to obtain support beyond the family.

Knowing the elders and interacting with them is the most important step needed at this time, according to Ajrouch. Besides advocating for more data collection, she believes community organizations should take small but important steps that can make a difference, starting with bringing the elders to the table and listening to their stories.

There are too many stories to tell. But as long as aging is not considered an important issue in the community, those stories will remain personal and will create more frustration and isolation. It is time to get out of our moral comfort zone to tackle this growing need. We can start by bridging the obvious needs with the available resources.

This series is adapted from the story Mohamad Ozeir wrote for the Arab American News through the MetLife Foundation Journalists in Aging Fellows program, a collaboration of New America Media and the Gerontological Society of America.





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Mohamad Ozeir ]]> http://publisher.namx.org/mt-cp.cgi?__mode=view&blog_id=19&id=103 First of two articles. Read part two here.

EAST DEARBORN, Mich.--The Kennedy Center building on Bingham Street in East Dearborn is a nine-story residential site for low-income elders in the heart of the Detroit area’s Arab American community.

Although one might expect the center to be bustling with family members visiting the many older Arab Americans who occupy 78 of the building’s 117 units, my recent stop there instead suggested a story of isolation and neglect emblematic of the current state of affairs for Arab American elders.

Arab Americans constitute an emerging ethnic community trying to balance the old way of life in the motherland with the facts of life in the new world. Moral claims of respect for elders aside, most Arab Americans emigrated from states where aging is not an issue. Life expectancy in many Arab countries is at best only a couple of years more than the average retirement age in the United States.

Estranged from Family, But Independent

At the Kennedy Center, a woman in the traditional Islamic hijab arrived to visit her mother-in-law, who she said has to “face the rest of her life alone.” Lila, who did not provide her last name for publication, explained that her mother-in-law used to live with her family and helped raise her children.

Although Lila’s mother-in-law didn’t complain for years, she increasingly felt constrained by traditional expectations. With her social life largely limited to attending funerals or memorials, except for attending citizenship classes at the Arab Community Center for Economic and Social Services (ACCESS).

Then three years ago, said Lila, her mother-in-law “reached the end of her rope.” When she told her son she was going to ACCESS to find a place to live, Lila recalled, “My husband threatened to not see her or talk to her as long as he lives because she will bring shame to her family by allowing people to say that he is like the Americans, who send their parents to shelters.”

Since her mother-in-law moved, Lila has visited her against her husband’s will.
One of Lila’s children visits his grandmother secretly, as well. “She tells me that he brings her back to life when she sees him,” Lila added. She emphasized that her mother-in-law feels “she has her own space and she doesn’t regret her decision to leave.”

An Increasingly Pressing Issue

Amne Talab, the social services director at ACCESS, emphasized, “Our plate is overflowing with other pressing issues, such as refugees, new immigrants, legal, social, employment, health, mental health and emergency services.”

Talab continued, though, “The elders are becoming a pressing issue, as well.” That’s because many who benefit from health and other services are living longer here, eventually requiring eldercare services, she said.

Longevity for Arabs in the United States is about two years shorter than that of whites or non-Arabs, partly because Arab elders have high levels of chronic illness.

Talab is applying for a grant to establish a center that would host senior activities and services. But even without an exclusive program for elders, ACCESS and similar organizations, such as the Arab American and Chaldean Council, have something substantial to offer.

Social workers in Arab American community organizations there work with their counterparts in city agencies to access available services for elders. However, the benefits are not distributed equally for practical and cultural reasons.

Even though having government-subsidized residential centers in East Dearborn, such as Kennedy and the Freda Center, addresses part of elders’ needs, it also presents new challenges.

For example, the high illiteracy rate among Arab American elders, especially women, makes understanding the rules and communicating with management and providers very difficult.

Some elders violate rules by frequently babysitting their grandchildren. Others cook and do laundry for their kids in the senior developments. Center managers also complain of other infractions, such as receiving guests for sleepovers, using the hallways and balconies for storage, and misusing the available utilities.

Many of the elders are in poor health and have inadequate treatment for their ailments because they lack information about health services or preventive care.

Isolation Not Part of Normal Aging

The salient issue is social isolation is fed by infrequent visits from loved ones and feelings of guilt for being away from their families. Intensifying this problem is the tendency to view isolation as a normal stage of aging and not seeking help to deal with it.

“This kind of problem can be dealt with easily if there is someone to help elders understand the rules and learn about available health and mental health services,” said a non-Arab American social worker, who assists the elders in the low-income housing centers.

This social worker, who asked not to be identified, added, “Some problems can be solved with a simple translation or some orientation in Arabic, but no one is doing it.”

A health care provider, who conducts routine health screenings at the centers, commented, “A lot of the residents don’t bother to show up for some basic testing for their vital signs like blood pressure, heart rate and screening blood tests.”

She stressed, “Even the elders who do the tests often will dismiss the importance of conditions, such as high blood pressure, high cholesterol, bone thinning and eye and ear problems.”

Religious and cultural differences leave some available programs out of reach for Arab American elders and stigmatize other activities. The city of Dearborn provides a wide range of recreational and entertainment services, such as swimming, cardiovascular work-outs, movies, dance, music, theater, card or board games and day trips.

But the Islamic code on dress and on mixing between genders prevents Arab American elders from participating in most activities. Social perceptions make attending a simple musical event or watching a movie with a group a source of embarrassment.

There is no shortage of sad stories of Arab American elders residing in senior housing. For some, isolation has meant dying alone, only to be found days later, or being defrauded and stripped of all their belongings and assets. Still more have lost their benefits because problems with their applications for assistance or lost important notifications being sent to their old address.

Even with such problems, these elders are in a better situation compared to those who do not make the move to independent living.

Part 2 will examine specials challenges for Arab women in America. This series is adapted from the story Mohamad Ozeir wrote for the Arab American News through the MetLife Foundation Journalists in Aging Fellows program, a collaboration of New America Media and the Gerontological Society of America.



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Al Jazeera ]]> http://publisher.namx.org/mt-cp.cgi?__mode=view&blog_id=19&id=103
Beydoun, who text messaged a friend running in the 117th annual race, writes that while there is a deep concern for loved ones in danger from any violent attack, it is “superseded by a distinctly Arab and Muslim-American psychosis: ‘Please do not let the culprit be Arab or Muslim.’

This concern, he writes, comes from “implicated guilt that follows every modern terrorist attack from World Trade Center I to Sandy Hook and has emerged into a collective Arab and Muslim-American psychosis.”

“Indeed, it may typify best what it has come to mean to be Arab or Muslim-American,” he continues.

According to the editorial, the bombings claimed the lives of three and injured 130. Read more here.]]> tag:newamericamedia.org,2013://19.11239 2013-04-09T18:16:21Z 2013-04-09T18:58:16Z

Osama Siblani, publisher of The Arab American News, will be inducted into the Michigan Journalism Hall of Fame Sunday, April 21 at the Kellogg Hotel and Conference Center in Lansing. He will be honored alongside longtime Detroit Metro Times editor...

Natasha Dado ]]> http://publisher.namx.org/mt-cp.cgi?__mode=view&blog_id=19&id=103 Osama Siblani, publisher of The Arab American News, will be inducted into the Michigan Journalism Hall of Fame Sunday, April 21 at the Kellogg Hotel and Conference Center in Lansing. He will be honored alongside longtime Detroit Metro Times editor W. Kim Heron, who recently stepped down, investigative journalist Nancy McCauley, journalism educator Betsy Pollard Rau and former Detroit Free Press photojournalist Hugh Grannum, who passed away this year.

The Hall of Fame honors reporters, editors, publishers, owners, photographers, broadcasters, educators, and others who have made outstanding contributions to the profession.

It has very few members from ethnic and minority media, making Siblani’s nomination more notable.

“Mr. Siblani’s nomination is unique because he’s not the usual nominee. Yet his nomination into the grand palace of journalism history in Michigan will not only send a strong message of journalism inclusion to all communities but also adds a different and an exciting feature to this longstanding journalistic tradition of Michigan’s finest in the media,” writes Michigan Chronicle senior editor Bankole Thompson in a letter supporting Siblani’s nomination.

Joe Grimm, former recruiting and development editor at the Detroit Free Press from 1983-2008, and current visiting editor in residence at Michigan State University, spearheaded the effort to get Siblani inducted by reaching out to people in the profession who all made cases through letters on why Siblani is worthy of the recognition.

Eleven letters including one from Grimm were sent to the Hall of Fame’s selection committee for review. Grimm, who was inducted into the Hall of Fame in 2009, says in some cases people are nominated more than once before they actually get inducted. This was Siblani’s first time getting nominated.

Other media figures who’ve been inducted in the past include legendary White House Correspondent and Arab American Helen Thomas, WXYZ Channel 7 anchor and reporter Diana Lewis and Neal Shine, former publisher of the Detroit Free Press.

In nearly all the letters Siblani’s colleagues note that his work extends far beyond TAAN. “He wears many hats, he’s not just a publisher,” Chuck Stokes, editorial/public affairs director, WXYZ TV said in a phone interview.

Stokes said he’s known Siblani for more than 20 years, and called him a crusading advocate, and political analyst who’s been sought out by many.

Siblani’s work was also critical to the establishment of the Arab American Political Action Committee, and Congress of Arab American Organizations.

“By every account, the Arab American community in southeast Michigan, would not be in the front row of issues today without the trumpet role of Mr. Siblani, who is the glue that brings that community’s brightest and courageous minds together to bear on the most important issues of the day,” Thompson said.

To members of the local, national and international media he’s been a vital source used to help better understand metro Detroit’s Arab community and the Arab World.

The letters also highlight Siblani’s work as a businessman, and how despite immense financial challenges he’s managed to keep the paper thriving.

Before starting the paper Siblani was an engineer, and while he’s never taken one journalism class he has taught international reporting seminars at the Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism in New York.

Siblani started the paper in 1984 with its co-founder Kay Siblani, who served as its executive editor since the paper’s inception until Jan. 1 this year when she succumbed to cancer.
]]> tag:newamericamedia.org,2013://19.11224 2013-04-05T08:25:00Z 2013-04-05T16:58:41Z

Ghassan Michel Rubeiz ]]> http://publisher.namx.org/mt-cp.cgi?__mode=view&blog_id=19&id=103
Editor's Note: By the time Assad is deposed, the Syrian state might well disappear, argues commentator Ghassan Michel Rubeiz. Rubeiz, a social scientist and political commentator, is the former secretary of the Middle East for the Geneva-based World Council of Churches.

To save Syria’s sovereignty and avert wider regional instability, rebel forces should be urged to negotiate with the ruling regime of President Bashar al Assad. Serious political reform cannot be achieved on the battlefield of an escalating, sectarian civil war.

Washington’s siding with the rebels as it passively promotes the forceful removal of Assad has not worked out. By the time Assad is deposed, the Syrian state as we know it might well disappear.

Washington should discourage Saudi Arabia and Qatar from taking the lead in planning for the future of Syria. Moreover, Moscow must push Assad to accept radical reforms. Increased pressure, meanwhile, should be brought to bear on both the opposition and the regime toward achieving a settlement.

It is not inconceivable that under such an agreement, Assad could eventually be eased out nonviolently; he may already be considering ways to avoid facing the moral and practical implications of rebuilding a country destroyed on his watch. Even supporters of the regime would not want to keep Assad on the throne under such terms.

The cost of the status quo is too high. The war has already claimed more than 80,000 lives and displaced upwards of five million. Its effects are being felt beyond the country’s borders in Lebanon, Jordan and Iraq, not to mention Turkey and Israel, where the latest flare up with Palestinians is being partially blamed on the Syrian crisis.

In Lebanon, the half million Syrian refugees that have crossed into the country have added to an equal number of Palestinian refugees already there. Together, these two groups comprise a quarter of Lebanon’s entire population. In Jordan, Syrian refugees are upending demographics in the kingdom and adding to its instability.

It is also clear that neither side in the conflict is capable on its own of achieving a decisive military victory. While the uprising has lately scored small victories, government forces maintain dominant air power and the support of a significant part of the population.

The lingering stalemate, meanwhile, is beginning to take on a Cold War dynamic. In Damascus, Bashar al-Assad relies on Iran for military assistance and on Russia for political support. The Lebanese Hezbollah militia supports the Syrian regime by fighting the rebels inside Syria.

The opposition, meanwhile, depends largely on Saudi Arabia and Qatar for material, military and political aid. The United States and some European countries offer the rebels material assistance and diplomatic guidance, while Washington coordinates with Jordan and Israel to orchestrate an outcome favorable to their interests. The United States is also training Syrian rebels in Jordan.

Equally as troubling and in an echo of events in Libya, rebel forces in Syria have been infiltrated by a massive entry of foreign fighters financed largely by Arab donors. Their aim of establishing some form of post-Assad political stability is nothing but a mirage, a fact amply demonstrated by the outcomes in states swept up in the events of the Arab Spring. Any meaningful solution in Syria and these other nations will not come about without first integrating deep political and societal change.

More to the point, in Syria the outcome of sectarian civil war is sectarian state building.

Barring negotiations, the violence will likely continue to tear at the national fabric of what had long been a largely secular society. Sectarian killings, such as those increasingly seen in Iraq, are becoming more frequent.

Amid such violent devolution, fissures are erupting as ethnic groups begin to retrench. The ethnic Druze may be forced southward, near the Israeli occupied Golan Heights. The Alawites -- to which the Assad family belongs – will look to retreat to their coastal district in the West. The three million Kurds in the northeast, the only group that aspires to “liberation” from the state in a post-Assad era, could exploit the deepening political vacuum by separating to form a “Syrian Kurdistan.”

The majority Sunnis -- who form the bulk of the opposition -- could end up occupying the central and larger part of the country. Their ranks are far from unified, though, as secular (nationalist and Ba’athist) and religious (Salafi and the Muslim Brotherhood) vie for control.

Negotiation between the opposition and the Assad government is the only viable means of stopping the bloodshed, preserving the nation’s sovereignty, and containing the sectarian tension.





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Hana Baba ]]> http://publisher.namx.org/mt-cp.cgi?__mode=view&blog_id=19&id=103 Photo by Hana Baba of relatives managing to prepare a hearty lunch at her family home in Khartoum, Sudan'.

SAN FRANCISCO--I visit Sudan about every two or three years. It’s my ancestral home; my parents and extended family are there. My most recent visit last December, however—my first since South Sudan seceded from Sudan in 2011--was revealing. I could see, hear and feel the difference in the capital Khartoum--both socially and economically.

Just driving down a main street like Nile Avenue, I noticed there are many less southern Sudanese than before walking the streets. Around Christmastime, in the past, they would be dressed in their best, filling the green parks on either side of the thoroughfare; girls in bright red and green dresses playing on swings and boys in ironed black trousers kicking balls around. This past Christmas, though, there were some, but not nearly as many as before.


After the South Seceded

After South Sudan’s secession, southerners packed up and filled buses and trucks that transported them to the south. For many, it was a celebration of return to their homeland. For others, it was heartbreaking to leave the only city they’d known all their lives.

The partition of Sudan into separate nations, a culmination of decades of southern struggle against the ruling north, coupled with the pressures of the global recession, further exposed the deep divisions between the more developed, largely Arabized, lighter skinned north, and the underdeveloped, Nilotic south.

Thousands of southerners had lived in Khartoum’s impoverished outskirts for decades. Some were born there; some had been there for generations. Reports from the move were heartbreaking--with accounts of tear-filled farewell parties for long-time workers, who were sacked and told to “go home”.

The Sudanese people are world-renowned for their hospitality, but many I talked to felt “hurt” by the south’s decision to split by a nearly 99 percent vote. 

Some in Khartoum were truly perplexed, as if absolutely ignorant to the harsh realities of southerners: living as marginalized citizens of their own country. Other people in the north didn’t seem to care either way. Yet others had the “good riddance” knee-jerk reaction of a hurt spouse in a nasty divorce.

What everyone agrees on is that the racial diversity of Khartoum has diminished strikingly with the loss of South Sudan. But life went on.

Then, last year, after a border dispute over the oil-rich town of Abyei, South Sudan reacted by shutting the oil operation down. It closed up the oil wells, effectively halting all oil production, which Sudan depended on as well.

A Downward Economic Spiral

An almost immediate result was inflation in the north, followed by an increasingly dire economic climate, which is continuing. As Sudan and South Sudan worked out an agreement by which the south frees its oil once more and pumps it through the north’s pipelines, the economic downturn continued to pinch Sudanese pockets.

During my previous visit home in 2009, the U.S. dollar traded for 22 Sudanese pounds. But by my return last December it had shot up to 70 pounds--good news for visitors from abroad like myself, bad news for the country and its economy.

Even earlier, in 2006, Sudanese expats were sending their college-graduated children to Sudan because it was bustling with job opportunities in the new oil sector. Whole families who had left for better opportunities were returning to Sudan from such places as the United States, Canada, and England to fulfill their dreams of raising their children in the place they were raised.

Only seven years ago, Sudan had jobs, and inflation was low. The World Bank reported the country’s gross domestic product grew by 11 percent--a peak not seen there in decades. The country was on an upward trend and there was optimism.

But, the global economic crisis of 2009 hit Sudan hard, and the 2011 split further sent Sudan in a downward economic spiral. By 2011, the GDP growth had dwindled to five percent—with inflation at a hefty 46.5 percent.

You feel the inflation while shopping for groceries around Khartoum.

Whether in the more posh supermarkets like Al Anfal--stocked with imports, from Corn Flakes to ketchup (which many people have cut out of their budgets), or earthier neighborhood shops that mostly sell locally grown vegetables, fruits and dairy products, meat or and baked goods.

Everything is much more expensive. Some commodities have doubled or tripled in cost. Prices rose 83.8 percent for meat and 40.2 percent for vegetables.

In 2009, a bag of sugar cost 2 Sudanese pounds; today it is 6 pounds. Sugar is one of the most important household needs: As my aunt says, “Our cup of sweet tea is our dessert.” In a country that boasts Africa’s largest sugar company, Kenana, [http://www.kenana.com/] many are bewildered about why sugar is so expensive.

Tea and coffee drinking are a predominant part of Sudanese hospitality, and if there is one thing they won’t abandon no matter how high prices get, it is that hospitality.

Sudanese Hospitality Says, ‘Allah Kareem’

As for the economics of Sudanese hospitality in difficult times, if you visit any family at lunchtime, you would still be able to enjoy a home-cooked lunch of freshly made stew, vegetables and meat, however little. When you ask how people can afford it, one phrase pops up--“Allah Kareem”--meaning, “God is all-giving.”

It’s truly a mystery how the Sudanese make ends meet and survive, even hosting guests who are often unannounced. But “Allah Kareem,” they believe, is a big part of it: Being thankful and optimistic may also bring monetary blessings. It doesn’t make mathematical sense, but you tend to stop arguing and leave it at that.

Of course, the “non-divine” factors that play a role can be summed up in the incredible resourcefulness of Sudanese woman, who can whip up a tray of culinary delights from minimal ingredients.

I once witnessed a pound of meat, an onion, some eggplants and potatoes magically turn into a feast of 5 dishes. Women are the CFOs of the household. If the country could balance its budget like a Sudanese woman, it would be in very different circumstances. They pool their money, form neighborhood co-ops, contribute to each other’s special occasions, and, in terms of stretching a buck, as one told me, “I stretch that pound ’til it bleeds.”

Yet, no matter how resourceful they are, these women--like the majority of people I’ve met--seemed to be glued to the television and newspapers in hopes of hearing about an oil agreement between Sudan and South Sudan.

Such an agreement would mean a return of lost oil-sector jobs, a stronger Sudanese pound, peace of mind—and cheaper sugar.

On March 12, the wait was over as Sudan and South Sudan reached a deal whereby South Sudan will resume its oil production, and Sudan will allow use of its pipelines and port for export. The question now is how soon will this translate into jobs, lower inflation, and a stronger Sudanese pound?

Hana Baba is a Sudanese-American reporter and co-host of Crosscurrents, on KALW Public Radio 91.7FM in San Francisco.

]]> tag:newamericamedia.org,2013://19.11169 2013-03-22T18:56:11Z 2013-03-22T19:08:29Z

Ten years after the fall of Baghdad at the hands of US forces, rumors of a breach in the Iraqi military command that facilitated the invasion continue to swirl.Some analysts trace the problem back to 1979 when professional military men...

Alaa al-Lami ]]> http://publisher.namx.org/mt-cp.cgi?__mode=view&blog_id=19&id=103 Ten years after the fall of Baghdad at the hands of US forces, rumors of a breach in the Iraqi military command that facilitated the invasion continue to swirl.

Some analysts trace the problem back to 1979 when professional military men in the upper ranks were replaced by Baath Party cadre with little experience. Some were promoted simply for being related to President Saddam Hussein, like his son-in-law Hussein Kamel, who became a top commander.

On the eve of the invasion in 2003, Iraq’s traditional army was of modest strength, having been exhausted by two wars and years of debilitating sanctions. Alongside it stood the well-trained and heavily armed Republican Guard, headed by the president’s son Qusay and a number of other close relatives.

One of the more controversial members of the top command was Maher Sufian al-Tikriti, a cousin of the president, who later became the target of a series of accusations that he made a deal with the invading Americans to take Baghdad.

After the invasion, many stories emerged of betrayals occurring in the military command. One officer explains that such acts did not take the traditional form of changing sides or ordering soldiers to stand down.

“There were a lot of opportunistic officers around the president who hid many things from him, in order to gain his favor,” he told Quds Press.

Others confirm that there were “some betrayals, but they were not restricted to the military. They included political and party leaders.”

More than anyone else, it was Tikriti who was under the most suspicion for having struck a deal with the Americans.There were many rumors during the war of treason by, for example, then-minister of defense Sultan Hashem was wrongly reported by a Saudi newspaper to have been executed.
More than anyone else, it was Tikriti who was under the most suspicion for having struck a deal with the Americans to make sure that the nearly 100,000-strong Republican Guard under his command will not stand in the way of the invading forces, according to reports in the French press and a recent book on the fall of Baghdad.

However, the story may not be completely accurate, as another account has emerged in which Tikriti made a decision, along with one of his colleagues, to spare their soldiers more death by negotiating with the Americans. And in fact, he did order his forces stationed between Tikrit and Baghdad to pull out and refrain from engaging the enemy.

The pan-Arab daily al-Quds al-Arabi confirmed reports that Tikriti had made a deal with the CIA in which he would pull out his forces in return for protecting him and several other officers and their families, in addition to sparing a number of bridges in Baghdad.

Tikriti, for his part, denies accusations of treason, with reports emerging from a Baathist website, al-Basra Net, that the man fought to the very end, citing the testimony of another officer in the Lebanese daily an-Nahar, who claimed that he was arrested by the occupation forces in the summer of 2004 for supporting the armed resistance.

As for Wafiq Samarai, who was head of military intelligence under Saddam and later became an advisor to President Jalal Talabani, he is skeptical of any major breaches in the Republican Guard command.

The fall of Baghdad, he explains, “was not due to a deal between Tikriti and the Americans. The real reason was poor strategic planning, in addition to the weakness of the military command and the interference of civilians in military affairs, not to mention the technical superiority of the American forces.”

This article is an edited translation from the Arabic Edition.]]> tag:newamericamedia.org,2013://19.11161 2013-03-21T04:32:15Z 2013-03-22T23:27:50Z

Jalal Ghazi ]]> http://publisher.namx.org/mt-cp.cgi?__mode=view&blog_id=19&id=103 JERUSALEM – “I walk with you,” President Obama announced during his arrival ceremony in Israel Wednesday, “on the historic homeland of the Jewish people.” The president referred to modern Israelis as “the sons of Abraham and the daughters of Sarah.”

He made no mention of Palestinians, or of Arab Israelis like myself.

As a tour guide to Israel’s ancient sites, I have come to take the long view when it comes to events in the Holy Land. History here begins in the Bronze Age, extending like the twisted vine of some ancient family tree through to the modern era. Homes built two centuries earlier, prized as relics in the United States, are demolished here with little more than a passing thought.

As guides, we take tourists to churches like the Benedictine Monastery in Abu Gosh, 10 kilometers west of Jerusalem, still intact from the time of the Crusaders. We visit biblical sites such as Tel Lachish, near Mt. Hebron, which still features the ramp used by the invading Assyrian King Sennacherib in 720 BC to attack Judea. Today, the London museum houses the Lachish Relief, taken by the British in the 19th Century from Sennacherib Palace in Nineveh, Iraq. 

On these tours, I routinely see American tourists praising the Lord with full-throated biblical recitations as if reliving history. In the Valley of Elah, between Tel Socho and Tel Azeqa, I once saw a group of Americans throwing stones in re-enactment of the story of David and Goliath. At Gideon’s Fountain, I witnessed a young American woman removing her shoes and drinking from the water, just as the 300 warriors of Gideon did before defeating the Midianites.

Arabs and Palestinians also relive history in this land.

I remember a song from my youth that begins with the words, “The land speaks Arabic.” Sung in the classroom, it is meant to emphasize the ancient connection linking Palestinians to the land of Palestine. Indeed, the Arab names of many villages today date back to the pre-Israelite era. In many cases even Israeli archeologists will use the Arabic names to identify Biblical sites.  

Take the modern village of Al Jib for example. Today it is identified with the ancient city of Gibeon, which some three millennia ago sent an ambassador to Joshua, believed to have ruled over the land of Canaan following the death of Moses 1500 years before the death of Christ.

According to the biblical account, the Gibeon ambassador hid his identity for fear that Joshua would refuse to deal with him. As the story goes, Joshua had been commanded by God to destroy all the inhabitants of Canaan. Joshua later learned of the ambassador’s deceit, cursing the land’s inhabitants to serve for an eternity as “hewers of wood and drawers of water.”

Some argue that curse remains today, condemning Palestinians to lives as construction workers or bus drivers. In truth, Palestinians with jobs are the lucky ones.

Israel has a first class transportation system, better than the one I used for many years in the United States. This, in turn, has created a huge demand for bus drivers, a position that many Arab Israelis are now taking as it pays relatively well. There are also Arab Israelis working in medicine and teaching positions. The truth of the matter is that Arabs who live in Israel are far better off than their cousins in the West Bank. 

There, the disappointment in Obama and the United States is palpable. As Israel rolled out the red carpet for the American president’s largely symbolic visit, crowds of angry Palestinians defaced large posters of him in Ramallah.

Yet despite criticism of U.S. policy, Palestinians have a lot of house cleaning of their own to do. The poverty in Arab villages under the control of the Palestinian Authority is shocking, especially when compared to the ornate villas occupied by local officials and their kin.

But rendering a people invisible is more offensive than exploiting them. As President Obama ends his trip to the Holy Land, I want to say, from the vantage of history: This is our homeland too.]]> tag:newamericamedia.org,2013://19.11122 2013-03-13T17:30:00Z 2013-03-13T18:05:08Z

Tom Banse ]]> http://publisher.namx.org/mt-cp.cgi?__mode=view&blog_id=19&id=103 Photo: US State Representative Cyrus Habib listens as his laptop reads incoming email to him via text-to-speech conversion software. (Photo: Courtesy of Washington State Legislature)

Editor's Note: In the 1970′s to mid-1980′s, tens of thousands of Iranians fled repression and unrest in their home country and emigrated to the United States. Over the years, Iranian-Americans have ascended to corner offices in corporate America, academia and Hollywood—but are still largely absent from the political scene. Here, we meet Cyrus Habib, who has broken into politics in the Seattle area and become the highest-ranking, elected Iranian-American official in the United States. Yet as reporter Tom Banse found out, Representative Habib’s ethnicity isn’t the only thing about him worth noticing.

History was in the making last fall in the suburbs of Seattle. But voters didn’t know that when a young-ish, dark-haired blind man came knocking.

“I wear sunglasses as do many people who are blind and I use a cane,” says Cyrus Habib, who door-belled 7,000 homes in his campaign for an open seat in the Washington state legislature.

“It happened not infrequently that people seeing me walk up the front steps would assume that I was with community services for the blind,” said Habib. “They’d be surprised when they answered the door and I’d say, ‘No, I’m running for office.’ Then they became much more guarded.”

Undaunted, Habib raised more money to win election than any other Washington House candidate in state history. He also appealed to Iranian-Americans beyond Seattle; dozens of campaign donors from that community contributed the maximum amount allowed.

“It was gratifying,” says Habib. “You know, I think we’re at a critical moment as a community of Iranian-Americans, or Middle-Eastern Americans.”

For sure, Habib represents a growing group of Middle-Eastern Americans jumping into US politics—refusing to let extremist groups be the face of their communities. Habib also represents a particular breakthrough. At age 31, he’s the first Iranian-American to be elected to a state legislature.

He was born in Maryland, to parents who’d emigrated from Iran in the 1970′s. His father came first, to study engineering in Washington state, and then had to stay when the Iranian revolution broke out. That’s when Habib’s mother came over.

Non-profit executive Goli Ameri also belongs to that first generation of émigrés. She’s presently the interim president of the Center for Global Engagement in Los Angeles, but back in 2004, Ameri ran for Congress as a Republican challenger in Oregon. She eventually lost to the incumbent.

Ameri says Habib’s victory resonates strongly among Iranian immigrants because it signals the cracking of what she calls “the last glass ceiling” for the community.

“This is the one area where the Iranian-American community has not had the same level of accomplishment for example as in the business community, health care, medical, academic,” says Ameri. “It’s a great start.”

Ameri says Iranian-Americans have traditionally shied away from politics.

“You know, politics coming from Iran was not exactly something that you were encouraged to participate in,” she says. “In fact, if anything people shied away from it and fled from it. So it wasn’t something that was natural or instinctive.”

As for Habib, he is a lawyer by trade, but caught the political bug early on.

“I first volunteered on political campaigns when I was in high school on the campaign of Gary Locke who ran for governor, our first ever Chinese-American governor in the United States and of course now ambassador to China,” he said.

When Habib ran for office himself last year, Ameri says she advised the young hopeful to steer clear of US-Iran relations. Habib says he finds foreign policy needlessly divisive.

“For me, foreign policy has never been what I’m interested in,” says Habib. “It’s never been my focus. I’m interested in how can we create a 21st-century economy rooted in our passion in this region for technology.”

In Washington state, Habib is best known for overcoming blindness. A rare childhood cancer took his eyesight at age eight.

“I use what’s called text-to-speech software,” Habib says. “So it reads what is on the screen. I am able to type normally just like anyone else and it reads back what is on the screen.” The computer reads-back sounds like chirping but Habib catches the high-speed clip and understands every word.

Occasionally, his blindness and other interests converge. It happened at a recent committee hearing about setting standards for high-tech, self-driving cars. He asked “how close are we to the day when you can also put your blind legislative colleague in a car and say, get him to JLOB,” referring to a government building.

I asked Representative Habib if he sees himself as a pioneer or a role model.

“I think every person’s story is unique,” he said. “You know, I think ‘role model’ is probably not the right term because people will chart their own path. But blind children need to know that with hard work and opportunity they can achieve their dreams. What’s more, others in society need to know that.”

Habib there didn’t mention his Iranian heritage. But consider this anecdote. Back in November, the Voice of America’s Persian service posted a brief bit about Habib’s election victory on its Facebook page.

That item, in Farsi, became the website’s most popular of 2012, beating out the US presidential race and even the Iran nuclear standoff. One man posting from Tehran commented, now that’s “what I call a free country.”



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Natasha Dado ]]> http://publisher.namx.org/mt-cp.cgi?__mode=view&blog_id=19&id=103 DEARBORN, Mich. — “I’m not afraid. Somebody has to start the conversation,” said Chris Ramazzotti, who’s Lebanese and agreed to reveal his name while discussing homosexuality among Arabs here.

Other gay Arabs didn’t disclose their identities citing safety risks as a reason, and to prevent their families from being criticized by Dearborn’s close-knit Arab community.

Ramazzotti is the executive director of Al-Gamea, a group formed in 2006 to address the growing needs of local gay Middle Eastern Americans. In 2009 it became a 501c3 nonprofit organization.

Ramazzotti says the Arab community’s progress towards having more tolerant attitudes about lesbian, bisexual, gay and transgender (LBGT) people has been slow.

Arab Americans comprise more than 40 percent of Dearborn’s population, which according to a 2010 U.S. Census report was 98,153.

Two Arabs from Dearborn said in parts of Beirut, Lebanon it can be less difficult for an Arab to be openly gay than it’s here. Lebanon is one of the few Arab countries on the forefront of organizing for LBGT rights.

Ryan, a 23-year-old gay Arab from Dearborn who was kicked out of his house after coming out to his family, says there haven’t been any real conversations among community leaders about gay Arabs.

“People are afraid to step up, and then there’s people like me who are out and ready to start the conversation, but the question is where do we start? We don’t know who supports gay Arabs, and sometimes I am afraid for my safety,” Ryan said.

Ramazzotti says a lot of people living in Dearborn follow conservative customs and beliefs they brought with them when emigrating from Arab countries to the United States, making it more difficult for second generation Arab Americans to come out.

He says Dearborn’s religious Arab community has got in the way of progressive attitudes about the LBGT community moving forward.

It’s hard for Arabs here to be openly gay because they’re afraid of being judged, and disowned by their families, neighbors and friends in the community.

Ryan says people who support gay Arabs often fear speaking in support of them publicly because conservative Arabs and Muslims will commit hate crimes, or incite riots against them.

Faisal Alam, a nationally known Muslim gay rights activist spoke at the University of Michigan Dearborn last month where he presented the program, Hidden Voices: The Lives of LBGT Muslims.

The lecture was interrupted by a false alarm, and Alam along with other activists were escorted to their cars by security after their views were challenged.

The program attracted more than 200 people, including several Arab Muslims.

Ramazzotti has been threatened because of his sexual orientation. He says one gay Arab woman from Dearborn had to move out of her house after her brother went through text messages and emails and learned she had a girlfriend. He threatened to kill her. She’s in college, and now on her own struggling to make ends meet.

The founders of Al-Gamea also wanted to reach out to Chaldeans, who’re Iraqi Catholics, but don’t identify as Arabs. Several gay Chaldeans have found refuge in Al-Gamea.

There are more than 120,000 Chaldeans in metro Detroit. The community is very close knit and conservative as well, making the challenges of gay Arabs and Chaldeans parallel.

Al-Gamea hosts weekly gatherings, and every month has an Arabian Night social event where gay Middle Eastern Americans gather.

In 2011 Al-Gamea raised money for eight Arab men and women who were disowned by their families after coming out.

The group provided money, food and shelter to all eight who were from Dearborn except one.

In 2010 the group helped two Arabs who were kicked out of their homes. Ramazzotti says Al-Gamea was able to help more people last year, because the fundraising was more publicized.

Many gay Arabs involved in intimate relationships with their partners live double lives.

“They have to sneak a kiss here and there, or a card. They have to even be cautious about accepting a flower from their lover,” Ramazzotti said.

He says people who’re secretly gay have to constantly make up stories and lies to their families, and friends.

“A lot of gay Arabs live a double life,” said James, a Lebanese college student from Dearborn who’s openly gay. “It makes me sad. It’s not easy to live a double life. I never wanted to live a double life.”

He was never thrown out of his house, and says his family accepts his sexuality.

Although he’s openly gay, James didn’t use his real name, saying he wanted to protect his mother from becoming the subject of ridicule in the community. “There’s a lot of pressure,” he said.

He says a lot of gay Arabs date outsidetheir race including him, and he knows two Dearborn Arab women who’re romantically involved.

Both James and Ramazzotti say it’s much more difficult for women to come out than men. Women face greater challenges because Arab families are more strict on them, and they’re expected to remain very conservative.

During the program, Alam discussed what led him to become a prominent voice for LBGT Muslims.

While attending an Islamic school at age 14, he had a two-week course about how Islam condemned homosexuality, with no exceptions.

“It didn’t make sense why God would give me these feelings only to send me to hell, it just didn’t make sense logically,” Alam said.

By 16, Alam had already won several awards from Muslim organizations, and was a youth leader in the community, all while struggling with his sexuality.

“So every aunty and uncle wants his or her child to grow up and become like Faisal,” he said. He thought that if he prayed and fasted enough it would go away, but it didn’t, and he started living a double life, but not for long.

The pressure of hiding his sexuality gained control of him, he lost 30 pounds in six months and was hospitalized for two weeks.

“I couldn’t live like that anymore. I had to figure out how I could be gay and be Muslim. The two have to somehow come together. I didn’t want to leave my faith, and I couldn’t change my sexuality. I knew I couldn’t be the only gay Muslim because I literally thought I was the only gay Muslim on the entire planet,” Alam said.

After being hospitalized he vowed to make helping other struggling gay Muslims his life’s mission. “I made a promise to God that I would never let what happened to me happen to other young people especially in my community,” he said. Alam now tours the country speaking about Islam and homosexuality.

After coming out his mother initially stopped speaking to him, saying she had to pick Allah (God) over her son.

In college Alam started an email list to help and find other gay Muslims. “Several thousand people started to join in minutes, because that’s how much silence there is about this issue in the community. That’s the level of fear that existed and continues to exist,” he said.

Within the last 15 years there’s a growing movement of LBGT Muslims who are coming to the forefront and acknowledging their sexuality and saying they can be LBGT and Muslim, with no contradiction between the two identities.

Alam says Islam is going through a reformation, and in five to 10 years a major shift in it towards greater tolerance for LBGT Muslims around the world; Muslim women being allowed to lead prayer at mosques and openly gay Imams being more welcomed is expected.

Alam says there are already several mosques in the United States that are safe and accepting of the LBGT community.

The organization, Muslims for Progressive Values believes women should be allowed to lead prayer. Alam says the first few public prayers led by Muslim women at mosques in the country were controversial.

Gay Imams have also emerged as leading voices for LBGT Muslims, such as Imam Daayiee Abdullah of the Masjid An-Nur Al-Isslah in Washington D.C. Abdullah has been counseling gay Muslims for more than 12 years.

Ramazzotti says people are afraid of being affiliated with Al-Gamea because the community could find out they’re gay, and a lot of its board members and volunteers have distanced themselves from the group for that reason.

Ramazzotti was living in Dearborn when he first came out to his family. His brother chased him three blocks after finding out, and tried to attack him. He didn’t return home until eight years later.

“Being gay was the last thing I wanted to be, I tried to suppress my feelings and make them go away, but they wouldn’t,” he said.

Ramazzotti says he’s witnessed gay Arab men and women marry the opposite sex, and still struggle with their sexuality.

He’s never regretted coming out, or met anyone who has. Over the last decade Ramazzotti says there’s been a major shift towards gay Arabs coming out and being more accepted, but there’s still a great deal of progress that needs to be made. “It doesn’t happen over night, but it’s getting there," Ramazzotti said.]]>