Is Islam the Problem?

Nick Kristof wrote a column for the New York Times in which he asked: “is Islam the problem?”

The ‘problem’ he’s referring to is a reference to the collective maladies of the Arab/Muslim world: stifled education, poor health care, antiquated infra-structure, economical underdevelopment, corruption, stagnating culture ..etc..

And despite the obvious fact that the region isn’t a monolith (evident by the presence of economically developed cities and regions especially in the Arab Gulf, and the ethnic diversity of the Levant and Northern Africa), the Arab speaking world share a good amount of symptoms that indicate a common root cause.

Furthermore, I believe the non-Arab Muslims do not share a large chunk of these problems with us. One look at how far Malaysia have come since their independence is enough proof. If Islam was the problem, then American Muslims would be on average earning less (and of a less education) than their fellow citizens, but numbers show the opposite: American Muslims are on average more educated and earn more money.

Back to Kristof’s article: There has been a wave of disapproving comments about the title and the content of his column. Accusations of racism and Islamophobia have been directed at Nick for his choice of words and phrases like “backwardness” and “psychological problems”…etc

I honestly do not know whether Kristof is racist or not, and one wouldn’t care if Kristof was racist or not if Kristof wasn’t an influential columnist (like his colleague, Tom Friedman) in the United States. And one would further not care about the impact of a racist or biased influential columnist in the United States if Arabs had put their act together and had their independent, self-evident representation. You see: the mere point that Nicholas Kristof, Thomas Friedman et al have to be politically correct and fair to us in order for us not to be misjudged and mistreated in this world proves a point Kristof was trying to make: that there is a problem.

It is also notable that whenever we want to prove Nick (or anyone) a bigot, we’d ask: would he dare say ‘backward’ about Africa? ….

An interesting choice, this Africa. We know it is because Africa is probably about the only place left in the world that is more backward than we are. (yes, I said it: Africa is backward. Check the global average life span if you don’t believe me)….

But what are we gonna do when we’ll get overrun by Africa as well?

Who are we going to cite as the region that Nick Kristof wouldn’t dare point at and describe as backward?

Update -1-:

Perhaps a great deal of hesitation and rejection of the likes of articles like Nicholas Kristof's is because of this: the underdevelopment and lack of progress in the Arab world have always been a justification co-opted by the racist Zionist Entity (aka 'Israel') in order to kill, maim and subjugate Palestinians at large and with impunity. Let us be clear about this: no matter how backward, primitive, ignorant, unproductive or regressive a population is, its individuals deserve the same human rights (individually and collectively as a nation entitled to its right of determination and national aspirations) as everybody.

"Death toll on Dubai's roads falls by a third".... How?

This article in The National highlights the sharp drop of road fatalities in Dubai last year. 33 % drop is very significant (it’s phenomenal, in fact), and it deserves a closer examination. Commendable efforts by the RTA notwithstanding, such a sharp fall can’t be attributed to them alone (although one is so tempted……Not). Other than what is mentioned in the article, there are elements and variables that had come together to contribute to this drop. I will try here to think of some of them:

1- The article doesn’t distinguish between pedestrian accidents and vehicles' collision accidents. The former has been a tragic source of death in recent years, especially on highways like SZR. These would have been significantly reduced last year due to the opening of many pedestrian crossings over SZR (as part of metro stations…)
2- This is hard to quantify: but reduction in construction activities all over the place is also a factor. The article does refer to completion of road works and the eradication of spots that were ambiguous and confusing to drivers. But there’s something else: building construction too had slowed down, which meant less number of hurried concrete mixers or heavy equipments on the roads. Also, building contractors are entitled by law to occupy part of the road when they need to carry out major concreting or receive delivery of big construction parts. This is perfectly legal and any contractor can arrange it with a single application to Dubai Municipality (& Dubai Police, I think). Of course, they ought to observe safety procedures, and it’s hard to imagine how the cordoning of a lane at the side of road could lead to fatalities. However, one could think of domino effect and traffic botheration spilling from one place to another and worsening the general mood.
3- Speaking of moods: less traffic doesn’t only mean statistically less chances of cars colliding with each other. Getting stuck in traffic for hours could lead to high levels of stress and poor judgment. (on the other hand, one could argue that lax driving conditions could lead to carelessness…etc)
4- Also related to construction: there were several major accidents involving buses of construction workers in the last few years. One could assume that last year's construction schedules were more tolerant of delays, i.e. bus drivers no longer needed to rush like maniacs from camp to site in order to avoid being berated by the foreman. In addition to that; rents for labor camps had fallen and companies can afford to get laborer lodged somewhere near their place of work.
5- Maybe-- just maybe-- women had finally learned how to parallel-park.


Are there other reasons?


P.S. the entire post is written on the premise that the stats issued are legit and aren’t tweaked or interpreted to show a different picture than reality…… They wouldn’t do that, would they?

Friday Night

Friday night. The time to party and let loose. The time to partake in the most bizarre, unsettling and unlikely of acts. The time to let go of weekday inhibitions and embrace the diverse science of mixology.



The night has an air of anticipation to it, with an underlying aroma of dread. The primal fear of sirens and affidavits. The city braces itself for all sorts of abuse. Here come the out-of-town yobs with their weekend confidence suspended high on a Nissan Patrol, their familiar conceit and shit-eating grins peeking from the sun roof. Here comes the cowed out-of-town family with their dreamy-eyed kids and listing sedan. And beyond the taxonomy of budgets and car models, an armada of taxis scurry around to service those who choose to play it safe. This is the premium of the one-night insurance you’re going to need to hedge your entertainment, in a city where driving under, above, to the right, to the left or anywhere near the influence is unforgivable. And this is the reason why cabbies are in short supply and on short fuse; the loyal, fortnightly customer is inconvenienced by his having to ditch his beloved automobile. And this air of tension and mutual hatred in the confined space of the taxi spells into the streets, in the form of horrid lane discipline and frequent sudden-death brakes. A faint sense of foreboding is in the air, reminiscent of red and blue strobes, radar flashes and hurrying stretchers.


And then there are the women. They toil before the mirror for hours on end, in an excruciating exercise of tunnel crawling; in and out of outfits, from one dress to another. All for the purpose of trying to look unique and stand out. And that what brings women together on a Friday night; their collective standing out by looking more or less the same. The sheer number of copycats and safe imitations and jealous tryouts does it for them, the sheer number of repetitive gestures and the bitch that leads by the example does it for them, the mere jiggling of incredulous hips striding in unison does it for them. This is a cultural mayhem, one that puts women on a pedestal so that we can all look up their skirts, diametrically opposed to the one that puts them in their place so that they will do what they're asked to without quibbles. A 'real man' stands completely unfazed in the midst of it all. The master of seduction is in high demand tonight, for he knows the road map and the lay of the hand. But he's really yearning for a more orderly transition of power and energy, for a less farcical conduct of business, while a legion of unnoticed observants stand to the side, contemplating a series of citizen-arrests.


Back on the road it is a democracy of violations: the bar hoppers are still hopping, a considerable amount of liquor threading their blood system. The out of town goons are imposing a blockade two lanes wide. The hesitant family man is lost and thirsty for directions. The valet queue wags its tail into the road and cause a bottle neck. A hurried working girl squats to pee in the alley, no waist band in sight. The shit-faced masses watch in amusement as the hip-hop dance off hurtles unto the side walk when the clock strikes 3 AM....


Who dares argue with the night? Who dares question the fickleness of its lights and the reliability of its crawlers? Who dares intervene in the intricacy of its darkness?


Everyone lay on their back before they assume their preferable sleeping position. Spread-eagle and submissive, like an air-raid watcher from a bygone era. Watch your incoherent thoughts ricochet off the far end of the universe, divide and collide like a nuclear reaction. Mutate and evolve, propagate and devolve. You shall be operated on by the angles of unconsciousness and the demons of bad digestion. You shall be left to convalesce in a colorless land of muted horror. You shall be awakened to coughing fits, an apocalyptic headache, microscopic tissue and muscle tears and numbness bordering on the paralysis. You shall be left wondering, "what happened?..... What the fuck happened?" But you shall be thankful, for it’s not a cold concrete floor you’ve awakened to. You shall be thankful that unsatisfied bed partners can’t carry out citizen arrests.


You shall be thankful.