There are several defining events in the history of US-Iranian relations. These include the CIA overthrow of the democratically elected government of Mohammed Mossedegh, the US support of the oppressive regime of the Shah, the attack on the US embassy and the subsequent hostage crisis and US support of Iraq during the Iran-Iraq war. One can argue about the level of the US support for Iraq during the war, but this conflict which resulted in the deaths of 1mm Iranians shapes much of the Iranian worldview. Murals of the martyrs (heroes) of this war are everywhere in Tehran. Another result of the memory of this conflict is that there is only one group more unpopular in Iran than the “Zionist regime” in Israel. This unpopular group is the Mujahedeen al-Khalq Organization (MKO) or People’s Mujahedeen, aka Mujahedeen e Khalq (MEK). This group, with its odd Islamist/Marxist ideology, shared the anti Shah viewpoint of other Iranian groups and participated in the 1979 Islamic revolution. They quickly fell out with the regime of Ayatollah Khomeini and after increasingly militant opposition were forced into exile in France and Iraq. A military wing which advocated overthrow of the Islamic Republic by force was formed in Iraq and became supporters of Sadaam Hussein during the Iran-Iraq war. With strong contacts and relationships within Iran, the MKO was able to provide Sadaam with useful intelligence as well as Farsi speaking fighters. This participation in the deaths of so many Iranian young men has made the MKO a hated group both within the Iranian government and among the Iranian people on the street. This animosity has been heightened by MKO terrorist attacks on Iranian civilian targets. The terrorist attacks resulted in the MKO being classified as a “terrorist organization” by the US State Department. The US, however, seemingly looking for another way to increase animosity between the US and Iran has decided to support its own “terrorist organization” in the region. Everybody else has one; why not us? (For this story, click here.) This unusual policy choice may have something to do with US domestic politics as the MKO has considerable support within the ex-pat Iranian community in the US. In the Middle East it sure is hard to figure out who the “good guys” are. Maybe there are no “good guys”.
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Monday, June 25, 2007
Border security and unintended consequences
With Congress seemingly unable to reach a compromise on how to deal with immigration reform, we are headed toward more of the same in terms of an extension of current policy. Over the past few years legislation has focused on increasing border security in the name of protecting our borders from immigrants who might perform dastardly deeds such as terrorist attacks or getting a job. This increased border security resulting from manpower, technology and walls has had an effect on cross border migration, but not all of the consequences are intended. The construction of walls in urban areas like San Diego has had the effect of changing the migration routes from the urban routes where undocumented immigrants are more easily apprehended to the desert areas of Arizona and New Mexico which are harder to police and more dangerous for the immigrant to traverse. Because border crossing is now more dangerous and expensive, undocumented immigrants have chosen to stay in the U.S. rather than return to their home countries. In-migration to the U.S. has stayed relatively constant since the early nineties. What has changed is a dramatic drop in out-migration. This discrepancy has resulted in a big increase in the undocumented immigrant population. As Congress addresses this increase by such policies as forcing all 12mm undocumented immigrants to return to their home countries and preventing future immigrants from entering the country, it seems to be neglecting a number of very real considerations and responding to hysterical statements by the anti immigrant crowd. There are moral, practical and economic issues to be considered. Recent surveys show that there are 14mm people living in households headed by undocumented immigrants. Of these, 4mm are American citizens, primarily minor children who are citizens by birth right. If we deport the heads of these households, are we prepared for media pictures of crying children and parents as they are separated, perhaps never to be reunited? (For a real story, click here) From a practical point of view: How will we fill these jobs while they are gone? In the 21st century global economy goods, services and all of the inputs (capital, information, technology, etc.) except labor flow relatively freely across national boundaries. Does a policy of further restricting the flow of labor make sense? The US economy creates 400-500,000 more jobs each year than the native born population can fill. It seems to me that there are several possible solutions to this mismatch of demand and supply.
1. Slower growth to reduce the number of jobs created
2. Export the unfilled jobs overseas
3. Import workers to fill the job demand
Slowing the natural growth rate of the economy and making everybody poorer does not seem like a wise policy either economically or politically. A policy decision to export jobs overseas would result in the high skill and high paid jobs being done by foreigners leaving the low paid jobs for “Americans”. Indians, Chinese and Poles can do the high paid technology jobs; only “Americans” can mow my lawn. If we choose to import workers to fill the job demand the questions are: Will they be documented or undocumented? Will we know who they are and where they are? From a security point of view we would be better served if they were documented. Current proposals would allow high skilled workers to enter legally for 2 years. Isn’t there a disconnect between bringing in highly skilled workers, training them and then sending them home to do the job there. Maybe we should recognize that in a global economy migration “just is” and focus on mitigating the problems resulting from it.
1. Slower growth to reduce the number of jobs created
2. Export the unfilled jobs overseas
3. Import workers to fill the job demand
Slowing the natural growth rate of the economy and making everybody poorer does not seem like a wise policy either economically or politically. A policy decision to export jobs overseas would result in the high skill and high paid jobs being done by foreigners leaving the low paid jobs for “Americans”. Indians, Chinese and Poles can do the high paid technology jobs; only “Americans” can mow my lawn. If we choose to import workers to fill the job demand the questions are: Will they be documented or undocumented? Will we know who they are and where they are? From a security point of view we would be better served if they were documented. Current proposals would allow high skilled workers to enter legally for 2 years. Isn’t there a disconnect between bringing in highly skilled workers, training them and then sending them home to do the job there. Maybe we should recognize that in a global economy migration “just is” and focus on mitigating the problems resulting from it.
Friday, June 22, 2007
Rolling out the big guns
Over the past few months several UK organizations have been in various stages of approving and implementing boycotts of Israel because of their human rights record during the 40 year occupation of the West Bank and Gaza. These organizations include UNISON, a 1.3 million member trade union, Britain's National Union of Journalists and the University and College Union. Although some of the boycotts are largely symbolic some, particularly the UNISON boycott, have the potential to make a difference. The British may being leading on this issue because they can more readily see the parallels between the situation in Israel/Palestine and the situation in apartheid South Africa. A British religious leader who was traveling with me in Israel/Palestine and who was involved in efforts to change the white South African regime commented "This is my first time here. Everything that I saw in South Africa I am seeing here". The Jewish/Israeli lobby appears to see the potential that this activity has to create a problem for them and they "rolling out the big guns". A coalition has been formed to make the case that these boycotts are a product of antisemitism and bias against Israel. (To see a story on this click here) Leaders in this effort include not only the usual suspects like Harvard professor Allan Dershowitz, but also respected opinion leaders like NY Times columnist Tom Friedman. (For his column entitled "A Boycott Built on Bias" click here) Mr. Friedman makes the point that is wrong to boycott a university, Hebrew University, that is a leader in Israel in providing equal education opportunities to Jews and Arabs alike. He is right in saying that Hebrew University is a leader in this area, but what he either doesn't know or chooses to ignore is that some Arabs are more equal than others. The kind of behavior that the boycott organizers are critical of allows the Israeli Army to make decisions based on "security concerns" that prevent the "less equal" Arabs from taking advantage of this opportunity. (To see stories on this click here and here) The Anti Defamation League has implemented a major ad campaign to fight the boycotts. (To see this click here) They make the point that the boycott organizers are singling out Israel and ignoring the human rights behavior of such countries as Zimbabwe, Sudan, Iran and Venezuela. It seems to me a little odd that an organization supportive of Israel would include Israel in this list of pillars of the human rights community. I guess politics makes strange bed fellows.
Monday, June 18, 2007
Sweet and Sour
During a visit to St Anne’s Cathedral, a Catholic Church in the Muslim quarter of the Old City of Jerusalem, I asked Father Michel La Voie, a French Canadian Priest, what it was like to live in the Old City and Israel. He responded in his soft spoken tones “It is like Chinese food, sweet and sour. It gets a little heavy after awhile” Similar sentiments are expressed by Pastor Russ Siler, Pastor of the English speaking Lutheran congregation in the Old City of Jerusalem who is now leaving after four years in the city.
9 June 2007
It is almost as if I am returning to school after a summer break, preparing to write the obligatory essay on what I did over my vacation. Save for the fact that this term stretched out for four years, it was truly a break—a world apart from that which most people in my home country experience on a daily basis. Here is a world in which one is not free to travel where one wishes. It is a place not of freedom, but of restrictions—not of liberty, but of oppression. As my wife Anne and I prepare to leave this land which has been our home these past few years, I wish that I could package this segment of our lives and make it available to you in such a way that you could see, feel, hear, smell, taste, and touch the things we have. Then you would be as overwhelmed by joy, sadness, elation, and despair as we are. But I cannot. All I believe I am capable of doing is telling you what I will miss and what I will not miss as we return to the United States.
I will miss the beautiful homes left to us from a magnificent past, with their arched windows and ornate porches and high ceilings. I will not miss the piles of rubble and rebar which mark demolished Palestinian homes—more than 15,000 of them since the Occupation began, most on the flimsiest of pretexts by the Israeli army or municipal authority—where I know lie crushed under each one a family's dream of a place of their own.
I will miss the magnificent countryside, littered with rocks and hills of every size and description, and the rugged landscapes that Abraham and Sarah, Hagar and Ishmael, Jesus, Peter, and Andrew hiked through. I will not miss the monstrous Wall, barbed wire fences, dirt mounds across unpaved village access roads, and ugly, prison-fortress-like crossings and terminals, ubiquitous in their barbarity. I won't miss them, because Israel presents them to you as dire necessities for their security, indeed, for their very survival, while we see the truth of Israel's reality which is to carve up Palestine into ever tinier clusters of humanity whose religious, cultural, societal ties are so slashed into disconnected ribbons that a nation is impossible.
I will miss ever so much the innocent smiles and playful giggles on the faces of the children—Israeli, Palestinian, international—all over the place. I will not miss the heaviness dragging on my heart like an anchor, as I realize how very soon that playful innocence will fall victim to fear and hatred, to bigotry and racism. I will miss the steady stream of visitors—vacationers, pilgrims, seekers, tourists—that arrive like clockwork at our 9:00 am Sunday worship in St. John's Chapel.
I will miss their delight at being in the Holy Land—many of them first-timers, but many more veterans of the land—their eagerness to meet Palestinian Christians whom, they soon learn, have been a vital presence here for the entire life of the Christian Church, and their openness to listen to narratives of the deadly conflict that the rest of the world seldom hears. I will not miss the busloads of tourists whose guide takes them to Bethlehem for a quick peek at the Church of the Nativity, then hurries them back to Jerusalem, because, "It's dangerous in the West Bank."
I will miss the witness of the courageous Israeli and Jewish women and men—Machsom Watch, Rabbis for Human Rights, Israeli Committee Against House Demolitions, Women in Black, and all the others—as they tirelessly seek to stand in solidarity with people who seek justice and to educate those who wonder what unspeakable things are being done in the name of their beloved religion. I will not miss those coarse voices who violently insist—to the detriment of intelligent dialogue, discussion, disagreement, debate, or dissent—that any person who dares to criticize Israeli policy is either self-hating or anti-Semitic.
Perhaps, however, more than anything, I will miss the thousand times a week I hear ahlan wa salan—Welcome—singing out with genuine warmth from face after face of those who are desperately eager to let me know that, regardless of appearance, religion, or nationality, I am their brother. I have no doubt whatsoever that, were one of these persons to be down to his last piece of bread, he would beckon me closer and say, "Come, sit, eat!" What I will never miss are the questions spontaneously emerging from these same warm hearts, "Why does America treat us this way?" "Why do they help Israel oppress us and take our land?" "Will you please tell Mr. Bush that all we want is to be treated fairly; we only want justice." I will not miss these questions because I think they are harsh or prompted by bad intentions, but because I have no answers which will make a whit of difference to my sisters, to my brothers who are so baffled by the way our country treats them.
Some of you have asked what I will do when we return to the States. At this juncture I can only grin broadly and say "Retire!" We do know there are challenges and adventures awaiting us; we just don't know what or where or when. The only certainty in my mind—No. Make that in my heart—is that I will continue to speak up and to speak out. My friends here would understand if I did not. They would softly comfort me, "We know how hard it will be." The problem is that I will not be that easy on myself. I cannot see the tears in my brother's eyes without tasting the salty bitterness in my own mouth. And I cannot swallow the bitter taste; I must open my mouth and let it out! Thank you for your faithful willingness to listen and for your constant support. They have been life-giving! Peace!
Russell O. Siler,
Pastor
English-speaking Congregation Lutheran Church of the Redeemer Jerusalem, Old City thesilers@earthlink.net
9 June 2007
It is almost as if I am returning to school after a summer break, preparing to write the obligatory essay on what I did over my vacation. Save for the fact that this term stretched out for four years, it was truly a break—a world apart from that which most people in my home country experience on a daily basis. Here is a world in which one is not free to travel where one wishes. It is a place not of freedom, but of restrictions—not of liberty, but of oppression. As my wife Anne and I prepare to leave this land which has been our home these past few years, I wish that I could package this segment of our lives and make it available to you in such a way that you could see, feel, hear, smell, taste, and touch the things we have. Then you would be as overwhelmed by joy, sadness, elation, and despair as we are. But I cannot. All I believe I am capable of doing is telling you what I will miss and what I will not miss as we return to the United States.
I will miss the beautiful homes left to us from a magnificent past, with their arched windows and ornate porches and high ceilings. I will not miss the piles of rubble and rebar which mark demolished Palestinian homes—more than 15,000 of them since the Occupation began, most on the flimsiest of pretexts by the Israeli army or municipal authority—where I know lie crushed under each one a family's dream of a place of their own.
I will miss the magnificent countryside, littered with rocks and hills of every size and description, and the rugged landscapes that Abraham and Sarah, Hagar and Ishmael, Jesus, Peter, and Andrew hiked through. I will not miss the monstrous Wall, barbed wire fences, dirt mounds across unpaved village access roads, and ugly, prison-fortress-like crossings and terminals, ubiquitous in their barbarity. I won't miss them, because Israel presents them to you as dire necessities for their security, indeed, for their very survival, while we see the truth of Israel's reality which is to carve up Palestine into ever tinier clusters of humanity whose religious, cultural, societal ties are so slashed into disconnected ribbons that a nation is impossible.
I will miss ever so much the innocent smiles and playful giggles on the faces of the children—Israeli, Palestinian, international—all over the place. I will not miss the heaviness dragging on my heart like an anchor, as I realize how very soon that playful innocence will fall victim to fear and hatred, to bigotry and racism. I will miss the steady stream of visitors—vacationers, pilgrims, seekers, tourists—that arrive like clockwork at our 9:00 am Sunday worship in St. John's Chapel.
I will miss their delight at being in the Holy Land—many of them first-timers, but many more veterans of the land—their eagerness to meet Palestinian Christians whom, they soon learn, have been a vital presence here for the entire life of the Christian Church, and their openness to listen to narratives of the deadly conflict that the rest of the world seldom hears. I will not miss the busloads of tourists whose guide takes them to Bethlehem for a quick peek at the Church of the Nativity, then hurries them back to Jerusalem, because, "It's dangerous in the West Bank."
I will miss the witness of the courageous Israeli and Jewish women and men—Machsom Watch, Rabbis for Human Rights, Israeli Committee Against House Demolitions, Women in Black, and all the others—as they tirelessly seek to stand in solidarity with people who seek justice and to educate those who wonder what unspeakable things are being done in the name of their beloved religion. I will not miss those coarse voices who violently insist—to the detriment of intelligent dialogue, discussion, disagreement, debate, or dissent—that any person who dares to criticize Israeli policy is either self-hating or anti-Semitic.
Perhaps, however, more than anything, I will miss the thousand times a week I hear ahlan wa salan—Welcome—singing out with genuine warmth from face after face of those who are desperately eager to let me know that, regardless of appearance, religion, or nationality, I am their brother. I have no doubt whatsoever that, were one of these persons to be down to his last piece of bread, he would beckon me closer and say, "Come, sit, eat!" What I will never miss are the questions spontaneously emerging from these same warm hearts, "Why does America treat us this way?" "Why do they help Israel oppress us and take our land?" "Will you please tell Mr. Bush that all we want is to be treated fairly; we only want justice." I will not miss these questions because I think they are harsh or prompted by bad intentions, but because I have no answers which will make a whit of difference to my sisters, to my brothers who are so baffled by the way our country treats them.
Some of you have asked what I will do when we return to the States. At this juncture I can only grin broadly and say "Retire!" We do know there are challenges and adventures awaiting us; we just don't know what or where or when. The only certainty in my mind—No. Make that in my heart—is that I will continue to speak up and to speak out. My friends here would understand if I did not. They would softly comfort me, "We know how hard it will be." The problem is that I will not be that easy on myself. I cannot see the tears in my brother's eyes without tasting the salty bitterness in my own mouth. And I cannot swallow the bitter taste; I must open my mouth and let it out! Thank you for your faithful willingness to listen and for your constant support. They have been life-giving! Peace!
Russell O. Siler,
Pastor
English-speaking Congregation Lutheran Church of the Redeemer Jerusalem, Old City thesilers@earthlink.net
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
On self censorship
Iranians that I talked to during my recent trip to this complex country described the media situation as being very nuanced. Although overt censorship is no longer common, there are "red lines" that media outlets critical of the regime would be wise not to cross if they wish to keep their jobs or stay in business. (For a good description of the situation click here) The meeting that we were scheduled to have with a group of journalists was canceled. Although the actual reason for the cancellation was not completely clear, the best guess was that they did not want to risk being associated with Americans at a time when such association could impact their livelihood. As the article points out the location of the "red line" is not clear and therefore journalists need to be careful and exert a large degree of self censorship with respect to what they say or publish. In the US, however, the location of the "red line" with respect to the Israel/Palestinian conflict is very clear and one crosses the line at one's peril as DePaul University political science professor Norman Finkelstein found out. If you are in academia or the media and dare to cross the line your livelihood will be in peril. (For this story click here) My advice would be: If you are in this position and want to keep your job, exercise a little self censorship.
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Do I want my child in this world?
This morning in church the sermon included a poem by Wendell Barry
Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front.
Love the quick profit, the annual raise,vacation with pay.
Want more of everything ready-made.
Be afraid to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery any more.
Your mind will be punched in a card and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something they will call you.
When they want you to die for profit they will let you know.
So, friends, every day do something that won't compute.
Love the Lord. Love the world.
Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.
Denounce the government and embrace the flag.
Hope to live in that free republic for which it stands.
Give your approval to all you cannot understand.
Praise ignorance, for what man has not encountered he has not destroyed.
Ask the questions that have no answers. Invest in the millennium.
Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest that you did not plant, that you will not live to harvest.
Say that the leaves are harvested when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.
Put your faith in the two inches of humus that will build under the trees every thousand years.
Listen to carrion - put your ear close, and hear the faint chattering of the songs that are to come.
Expect the end of the world.
Laugh.Laughter is immeasurable.
Be joyful though you have considered all the facts.
So long as women do not go cheap for power, please women more than men.
Ask yourself: Will this satisfy a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep of a woman near to giving birth?
Go with your love to the fields.
Lie down in the shade.
Rest your head in her lap.
Swear allegiance to what is nighest your thoughts.
As soon as the generals and the politicos can predict the motions of your mind, lose it.
Leave it as a sign to mark the false trail, the way you didn't go.
Be like the fox who makes more tracks than necessary, some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.
The line that resonated with me was "Will this disturb the sleep of a woman near to giving birth?" It reminded me of a conversation I had with a young Palestinian woman on the West Bank. She said "My husband and I are not sure that we want to have children. Is it fair to bring another life into our existence?" We should be concerned if we are creating a world into which women are afraid to bring to life. This is a road to death not resurrection. Perhaps one of the criteria for government policy should be: How will women feel about bringing new life into the world we are creating?
Sunday, June 03, 2007
The danger of soft power
Prior to our recent trip to Iran, my wife and I had many people question our sanity in going to such a dangerous place. We heard comments like “Why would you go there?” and “We will pray for you”. We were also warned in Iran of the dangers, if somewhat tongue in cheek. One afternoon we went to a tea house at the end of one of the beautiful old bridges in Isfahan. As I was talking to the Iranian at the reception desk, he asked where I was from. When I said “America”, he responded with a grin “American. Why would you come here? Don’t you know all Iranians are terrorists?” As I was leaving the tea house and inquired how much I owed him he responded “You are Americans; you are my guests”. Upon our return to JFK airport in NYC the immigration official, when he saw that we had been to Iran, said “Don’t you know that people disappear all the time in Iran?” In some respects these warnings were accurate. Several Iranian-Americans have been arrested and detained in Iran in the last few months. (To see the story, click here and here) These people have been primarily human rights advocates and activists. We also experienced the efforts of the Iranian government to reduce the contact between American citizens and the Iranian people. Many of our meetings with journalists and women’s rights groups were canceled either by the government or by the groups themselves who were afraid of the repercussions of meeting with Americans. The group following ours had all of their meetings canceled. The reason given by the government is that they are afraid that contact with Americans will lead to a “velvet or soft revolution” such as occurred in the Soviet Union. The government is afraid that by engaging with the young and restless Iranian population Americans could create a non-violent regime change. The US government, however, seems to be on a completely different path and seems to being to doing its best to sustain the unpopular regime. US and international sanctions give the Iranian regime a scapegoat for their bad economic policies. Efforts to undermine the regime with propaganda and collusion with outside opposition groups, who have little support within Iran, give the mullahs an excuse for their repressive policies. US refusal to recognize Iranian rights under the Nuclear Non Proliferation Treaty (NPT), military threats and saber rattling tend to solidify popular support behind the regime. It is these types of policies that have succeeded in keeping Fidel Castro in power in Cuba for 50 years. Some Iranians say that the regime would like to see the US attack Iran as it would unite the population against the “Great Satan”. The greatest danger to the regime, as the regime itself admits, is engagement with Americans. The current government might well fall of its own weight. All Iranians that I talked to wanted this to be a peaceful transition created by Iranians. They said “The last thing we need is another revolution. It would set us back 30 years” and “A new government must not be seen as a creation of the west. If it were seen as sponsored by the US, it would have no legitimacy”. The Islamic regime has gradually moderated since the revolution. As one Iranian said to me “We are going through a difficult time now, but this too will pass. Democracy is not a pill that you take.”
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