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Tag: syrian revolution

  • Who wants to kill a million?

    We don’t really know the Syrians. For forty years Syrian people were hidden behind the monolithic al-Assad family dictatorship. A peaceful uprising that began in March 2011 threatened to topple the edifice; but when the revolt became militarised after ten months, the voices and concerns of ordinary people were obscured, again by violence. Our book Syria Speaks: Art and Culture from the Frontline – featuring over 50 Syrian contributors – sets out to open a line of communication between the nonviolent activists, artists and writers active in Syria or in exile, and the rest of the world. This is not being overambitious. In their fiction, memoir, reportage, poetry, art and photography, the Syrians are critical, compassionate, hilarious and articulate; they speak clearly and loudly for themselves.

    For me, the original impetus for the book lies at the heart of two images. One is a Ferzat cartoon of a prison guard sobbing and watching a soap opera on a portable TV in a cell, while all around him hang the body parts of the man he has finished torturing. The second is Top Goon: Diaries of a Little Dictator by the anonymous Syrian theatre and film collective, Masasit Mati. These hysterically funny short cyber films, such as ‘Who Wants to Kill a Million?’, document the permutations and aspirations of a revolution in flux – its follies and tragedies – with finger puppets. Both Ferzat and Top Goon are examples of Syria’s blackest humour forged in the fires of adversity. Politically and aesthetically engaged, they dare to dream about changing their society.

    After Ferzat’s 2012 London exhibition, the first discussion about a possible book took place in a taxi racing to catch a lecture by the Italian visual critic and Syria-watcher Donatella Della Ratta, at SOAS. She showed new moving images from the Syrian uprising with films such as Conte de Printemps by Dani Abo Louh and Mohamad Omran. The book idea was placed on hold while an exhibition on uprising art, film and photography toured Amsterdam, Copenhagen and London. Last June, the book began to take shape. This June, Syria Speaks is ready for the world.

    Syria Speaks is a celebration of a people determined to reclaim their dignity, freedom and self-expression. It showcases the work of over fifty artists and writers who are challenging the culture of violence in Syria. Their literature, poems and songs, cartoons, political posters and photographs document and interpret the momentous changes that have shifted the frame of reality so drastically in Syria.

    The Syria Speaks book tour begins its 7 city tour next week.

      • Discussion on free expression in Syria at the Hay Festival on 26 May at 1pm
      • An evening of readings, music and film at Rich Mix, London, on 11 June at 7pm
      • Readings and discussion as part of the Festival of Ideas, Foyles Bookshop, Bristol, on 12 June at 6pm
      • Public lecture at the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford on 13 June at 6.30pm
      • An evening of readings, screenings and discussion at The Bluecoat, as part of the Liverpool Arab Arts Festival, Liverpool on 14 June at 5pm
      • Readings and presentation at the FUSE Gallery, Bradford on 15 June at 4pm
      • Public event at Durham University, School of Government and International Affairs on 16 June

    To find out more and book tickets please see our events page.

    Syria Speaks: Art and Culture from the Frontline, is edited by Malu Halasa, Zaher Omareen and Nawara Mahfoud (Saqi Books, 2014)

  • بالدم تُكتب ثقافة سوريا الجديدة

     لا يمكن الحديث عن الثقافة السورية دون الحديث عن دور الثورة السورية التي قامت بهدم البنية القديمة لهذه الثقافة، وبداية إنتاج قيم جديدة لثقافة سورية جديدة تنتظر نهاية المرحلة الدموية من الثورة لتبدأ بالاستقرار، وهذه القيم الجديدة متنوعة ويجري اختبارها كل يوم.

    رغم الدماء وقوافل الشهداء وتدمير المدن من قبل النظام بصواريخ السكود والطائرات الحربية والمدفعية الثقيلة وكل وسائل القتل لم يتوقف السوريون عن الغناء والرسم والكتابة وإعادة طرح الأسئلة حول مستقبل سوريا، وشكل هذه الثقافة الجديدة التي تحتفي بالحرية المقبلة، حرية التعبير والنقد الذي لم يتوقف الثوار عن ممارسته منذ اليوم الأول لهذه الثورة العظيمة.

    قبل الثورة وصلت الثقافة السورية إلى مرحلة الموت، غياب الصحف وتوقف الحركة النقدية أنتج شكلاً مخادعاً وكاذباً وفي أفضل الأحوال مجاملاً، يعيد تكريس الديكتاتور في الرسم والكتابة والسينما والمسرح وباقي الفنون، وهذا الديكتاتور تجلى بانكفاء النخب إلى إنتاج شكل علاقات تقترب من جماعات المافيا التي تحتكر كل أساليب التعبير، وتقوم بخصي النقد الذي تخلى عن مهمته الأساسية ليصبح شكلاً من أشكال التبجيل لما هو مكرس، تقتصر مهمته على المديح والمساهمة في التكريس لمجموعة أسماء منحها موقفها من السلطة حصانة كبيرة، وجرى تصديرها للخارج كمنتج إبداعي مقاوم للديكتاتورية، وهذا التواطئ المثير للريبة ساهم بالاحتفاء بالفتات التي كانت السلطة تقوم برميها بين الحين والآخر، خاصة بعد استلام بشار الأسد للسلطة عام 2000.

    صحيح أن السلطة سمحت بهامش لهؤلاء الفنانين والكتاب بإنتاج نصوص مضادة لكنها في الوقت نفسه منعت التفاعل مع هذه الإبداعات، لم تتوقف حركة منع الكتب ومنع عرض الأفلام التي كانت تساهم هي ذاتها بإنتاجها، كما لم تسمح لأي مشروع جماعي بالنمو والاستمرار، كانت المشاريع الشبابية جري وأدها وحصارها والتضييق على أصحابها، كما جري منع أي عمل جماعي قد ينتج حالة نقاش في المجتمع إلا إذا كانت  هذه المشاريع تحت سيطرتها الكاملة، لذلك لم تسمح السلطة بإصدار أي صحيفة مستقلة، وحين سمحت بذلك لأول مرة كانت صحيفة مستقلة  مالكها واحداً من مدللي السلطة وموزها ولم تختلف عن الصحف الحكومية بأي شيء، بل زاودت في وولائها على الصحف الحكومية ،كما منعت المجلات الإبداعية المتخصصة، كما حصل مع مجلة ألف التي خصصت للاحتفاء بالكتابة الجديدة، أصدرها مجموعة كتاب مستقلين كنت من بينهم عام 1990، ولدينا عشرات الأمثلة التي كانت تصب كلها في خانة منع العمل الجماعي المستقل، وترك هامش للعمل الفردي على ألا يتجاوز الحدود الممنوعة والخطوط الحمراء المتمثلة بالرئيس وجماعته.

    هذا الوضع الذي عاشته الثقافة السورية أنتج مجموعة أكاذيب كبرى في الحياة الثقافية، وتكريس مجموعة أسماء استفادت من غياب النقد، ومع انتشار ثقافة النفاق تحولت هذه الأسماء إلى مجموعة ديكتاتوريين صغار، تماهوا مع الديكتاتور الأكبر في محاربتهم للنقد الذي كان يتجرأ عليه بعض الصحفيين الشجعان أحياناً.

    وموقف المثقفين السوريين من الثورة السورية يشرح بعض خصائص هذه الثقافة المنافقة، شعراء وكتاب ورسامين كبار وسينمائيين وقفوا ضد ثورة شعبهم التي تحدثوا عنها وبشروا بها أربعين عاماً، هؤلاء يتحدثون بأريحية عن الرسم الجديد والسينما الجديدة لكنهم يرفضون ولادة مجتمع جديد إلا على طريقتهم، ينظرون للثورة ويتناسون دماء شعبهم التي ملأت العالم وأصبحت أيقونة لكل السوريين الذين يحلمون بالمستقبل المدني لدولتهم الجديدة القائمة على إنتاج قيم نقدية جديدة لن تقوم قائمة أي ثقافة دونها.

    أعتقد بأن الثقافة السورية قد صدمت الصدمة الكبرى التي تحتاجها أي ثقافة تريد النهوض وإنتاج قيم جديدة تكون شريكة الإنسانية في الدفاع عن الحرية وحقوق الإنسان كما تليق بتاريخ الثقافة العربية العظيمة، وهذه الصدمة التي مازالت مستمرة حتى الآن وستبقى مستمرة مادامت الثورة مستمرة وقادرة على إنتاج إشكال مقاومة ديكتاتوريات جديدة تطمح لإعادة إنتاج ثقافة الإقصاء ومنع النقد، خاصة الثقافة المتشددة التي تطمح لإنتاج شكل ديكتاتوري إسلامي جديد.

    دم الشهداء منح الثقافة السورية الجديدة دفعة قوية، جرى تدمير ثقافة الصمت ومنع إنتاج أشكال نفاق جديدة في المجتمع السوري المدني الذي نطمح إليه جميعاً في سوريا الثورة والحرية.

    English translation by Sawad Hussain may be found here

  • Written in blood: The beginnings of a new Syrian society

    In a moving piece for PEN Atlas, Khaled Khalifa writes about the hypocrisy of the intelligentsia, the context of the Syrian revolution, and the task of imagining the world that will come after.It is impossible to speak of the new Syrian society without addressing the revolution’s role in destroying the fabric of the former.  It is impossible to talk about it without considering the beginning of new values for this new society – one awaiting the end of this revolution’s bloody phase, so that stability can finally reign. Such talk of Syrian society only makes us realise how these diverse budding values are being tried and tested with every passing day.Despite the bloodshed and rows of martyrs; despite the regime destroying cities with scud missiles, war planes, heavy artillery, and every other means possible – despite all this, Syrians don’t stop their spirited chanting, painting, and writing in protest at the current situation.All this while they repeatedly question Syria’s future, and contemplate the shape of this new revolution – a revolution which celebrates an impending freedom: the freedom of expression and the freedom to criticise – a liberty which the revolutionaries haven’t stopped exercising since the onset of this great uprising.Before the revolution, Syrian society had become full of death and decay. The absence of objective newspapers and public criticism created a deceptive and delusional national image, which at the best of times made Syria appear civil.The dictator was portrayed as decidedly saintly in caricatures, writing, cinema, theatre, and in all other art forms. And this very dictator made even the elite regress to behaviour resembling that of those in a state governed by the mafia – one in which every type of free expression was scorned. Such an environment eradicated any inkling of criticism, and aimed to venerate he who has been declared sacred. It is one where the ruling classes have been granted their positions by the governing power as a form of immunity.  And those included in the unspoken agreement of this unholy alliance participated in celebrating the scraps that the regime threw their way now and again – particularly after Bashar Al-Asad came to power in 2000.While it is true that, officially, the ruling power allowed artists and writers to produce their counter-rhetoric on the sidelines, the more telling truth lies in the fact that any public interaction with these creative minds was all but prohibited. Books and films that the regime itself took part in producing were not banned, however.Similarly no social movement was allowed to grow and continue, youth projects were stopped and restrictions were placed on their leaders. Any collective action that could stir up even the discussion of dissent was banned, unless the venture was under the regime’s complete control.The ruling power didn’t even permit the publishing of independent newspapers. And when one was allowed, its owner was backed by the regime – so that there was barely a discernible difference between the paper and the government’s own publications. In fact, it was arguably even more loyal than government-owned newspapers. In the same vein, all private magazines and creative publications were banned.This is exactly what happened with Alif magazine, a publication that celebrated new writing. A group of independent writers, myself among them, had been publishing it since 1990.  We have numerous examples of writing that all fall into the category of ‘banned collective work’  i.e. subversive of the government.  Thin margins were left for us in which to pursue our individual work – as long, of course,  as it didn’t approach the sacred cows embodied by the president and his entourage.This created a society entrenched in lies and convenient, deceptive silences.  It has also enabled the veneration of a select few who have benefitted from the lack of ability to criticise. With the spread of this culture of hypocrisy, these names have transformed themselves into a group of mini-dictators in training who have then collaborated with the bigger dictator in their fight against freedom of speech. A freedom which until recently only a few courageous journalists have dared to exercise.The stance of the Syrian educated elite with regards to the Syrian revolution casts light on some of the details of this hypocritical culture. Great poets, writers, artists, and film directors stood against their people’s revolution – the same revolution that they talked about and foretold for 40 years. They, these people, talk comfortably about new art and new cinema, but they refuse the birth of a new society unless it’s done their way. They see the revolution and yet they are oblivious to the blood of their people which has been spilled day after day.This blood has become an icon for all Syrians who dream of a civil future for their new nation, one based on freedom of expression. No society will, or can survive without it.I believe that the Syrians have felt the jolt that any society wanting progress or transformation needs – a shock required by any culture wanting the creation of a new system, one based on humanitarian values defending freedom of speech and human rights, all which is in line with great Arab precedents.This shock is still on-going. It will continue as long as the revolution continues and it is able to explore new methods of resisting dictatorships, which maintain a culture of exclusion and censorship, and Islamic hard-line regimes.The blood of martyrs has given this fledgling new Syrian culture a great push. It has destroyed the culture of silence and prevented new forms of hypocrisy taking root in Syrian civil society – our society, for which we all in Syria wish revolution and ensuing freedom. 

    To read this piece in the original Arabic, please click here.

     

    About the author

    http://rcm-uk.amazon.co.uk/e/cm?lt1=_blank&bc1=000000&IS2=1&bg1=FFFFFF&fc1=000000&lc1=0000FF&t=enpe-21&o=2&p=8&l=as4&m=amazon&f=ifr&ref=ss_til&asins=0552776130
    Khaled Khalifa was born in 1964, in a village close to Aleppo, Syria. He is the fifth child of a family of thirteen siblings. He studied law at Aleppo University and actively participated in the foundation of Aleph magazine with a group of writers and poets. A few months later, the magazine was closed down by Syrian censorship.He currently lives in Damascus where he writes scripts for cinema and television. Khalifa’s In Praise of Hatred – published secretly in Damascus and banned forty days later – was shortlisted for the International Prize for Arabic Fiction in 2008. Set in and around 1980s Aleppo, the story unpicks a life lived under dictatorship and loudly echoes the violence across the Middle East and the Arab world over the past two years.In Praise of Hatred is longlisted for the Independent Foreign Fiction Prize 2013. It is published by Doubleday in the UK and has just been released in paperback by Black Swan.

    About the translator

    Sawad Hussain is a literary translator who currently teaches Arabic in Dubai. She graduated from SOAS with an M.A in Arabic Literature. She is very passionate about the Arabic language and is an avid reader. Her goal one day is to translate a book from an Arab country that hasn’t been as well represented in the literary arena as other nations – such as Sudan, Yemen or Mauritania.

  • Dispatch from Syria: Capturing the Truth

    Following on from her piece for the English PEN magazine, Samar Yazbek describes the dangerous, often fatal struggle of capturing the truth of the Syrian revolution

    Translated from the Arabic by Max Weiss     

    The young man in front of the camera points at the cloud of smoke as it rises from behind the buildings, drawing nearer to him. Breathless as he runs, he gasps, ‘Look, it’s an explosion…everyone, look at what’s happening to us here in Homs. We’re dying here. Look, they’re shelling us.’

    The image wobbles, shakes, the cameraman’s hand trembles. Suddenly footsteps appear, dusty shoes, pavement splotched blood red, then a crashing sound, some gasping, and the screen goes black.

    The event is over.

    This scene comes from one of the young men reporting the events out of the heart of the Syrian revolution. A scene that encapsulates the death of Syrians but also their defiant will to live, in spite of the destruction all around them; that tells the story of the Syrian people by relaying the truth of their revolution now that the Syrian regime, its security apparatus and its shabbiha have denied them access to the media, and after a number of foreign journalists have been killed.

    The Syrian people report the event alongside death, not from on high, never from below: they proceed side by side with death. Our young men move with the gunshots, the artillery fire, carrying their miniature mobile devices or a concealed micro-camera, but mainly they carry their cell phones, decamping towards death. Here in Syria, from where the young men report the event, news becomes part of a deathly cavalcade. Those who report the news aren’t professional journalists; they don’t know how to mould the story, they have no idea how to stage the scoop on camera or how to angle the right shot. They take their lives in their own hands, placing them before the eye of their cell phone, and set out. Reporting the truth could cost them their lives.    

    The young men who cover the demonstrations get ready beforehand. They make placards that express the Syrian people’s thirst for freedom, signs that criticize the positions of the international community, others that are sarcastic, maybe a few drawings. They take up their positions, set back a ways from the demonstrating crowd, in order to capture the images of the protestors, crouching in some corner so they won’t be spotted by the security forces and the shabbiha and the snipers who are posted up on the rooftops and who kill demonstrators in cold blood.          

    Other times, when shells crash down on some neighbourhood, the young men don’t have enough time to get ready. They thrust their cell phones into the air and start filming, even as the bombs fall and they run away from the shelling, one eye on the road, the other on the decimated buildings, or else towards where the rockets are being launched, which makes their shots hurried and confused as they struggle to force the words out of their mouths, with death looming over their heads. Still, somehow, they manage to focus their cameras on the sight of the truth.

    Those young men, who know that the regime of Bashar al-Assad fabricates truths in order to spuriously repeat them in the media, realise the importance of what they are doing. Now they are creators of the Truth. These scenes that they record might just be capable of creating something that can put an end to the suffering of the Syrian people who are being slaughtered on a daily basis, the Syrians for whom massacres beget only more massacres.         

    A number of the young men who were transformed into reporters without any past experience have become heroes. Some have been killed, others arrested. One of the young men whom the Syrian security services caught in the act of filming had his eyes gouged out—when his body finally surfaced it had no eyes!         

    The Syrian regime is afraid of the truth coming out, which would expose the reality of their crimes. So they target journalists who write about the revolution as well as those who broadcast it by video; therefore their punishment is still worse, whether it comes to arrest or torture or bodily disfigurement. The Syrians are unmoved when they get turned into war reporters in the blink of an eye; they have no fear. They are guided by a rare courage to report the truth of their death, the truth of their demands and their revolution. The young men who appear every day on television screens the world over via recorded snippets on YouTube are constantly changing, their faces replaced from one day to the next, just barely benefiting from the expertise of some initial appearance, which was followed by a second, then a third…

    Until this journalistic proficiency vanishes amid the dust and the bullets, lost along with their souls that take flight even as they report the truth.

    Other young men will take over the assignment, with warm hearts renewed, reporting the event, before they, too, will fall.

    And so forth and so on

    The Syrians do not tire of becoming journalist martyrs.

    They are born from the bullets but also from freedom, and their camera eyes never sleep, despite the bombing!

    An extract from this dispatch was published in the English PEN member’s magazine in September 2012.


    About the Author

    Samar Yazbek
     is a Syrian writer and journalist, born in Jableh in 1970. She is the author of several works of fiction. Her novel, Cinnamon, is to be published by Arabia Books later this year. An outspoken critic of the Assad regime, Yazbek has been deeply involved in the Syrian uprising since it broke out on 15 March 2011. Fearing for the life of her daughter she was forced to flee her country and now lives in hiding. Her book A Woman in the Crossfire published by Haus won an English PEN Writers in Translation award in 2012.

    Read more about A Woman in the Crossfire  
    here
     from Haus Publishing.

    Read about Samar’s event at the Frontline Club in London
    here

     

    About the Translator

    Max Weiss
     is the author of In the Shadow of Sectarianism: Law, Shi’ism and the Making of Modern Lebanon (2010). He is also a noted translator of contemporary Arabic literature into English. His translation of Abbas Beydoun’s novel Blood Test won the Arkansas Arabic Translation Award. He joined the faculty of Princeton University in 2010.