For anyone interested in listening to me discuss Yemen for about an hour, my appearance on the latest edition of the Middle East Week podcast is available here.
There are plenty of American Journalists living in and writing about the Arab World; for various reasons, there are comparatively few Arab journalists living in and writing about the United States. A year ago, my friend Khalid Abdulhadi traveled to the United States in a trip organized by the State Department’s International Visitors Program. Here the English version of an article he wrote for al-Masdar; original Arabic article can be read here.
America is split, tightening its belt
There will be no better ideal opportunity to see Americans normally behave than to visit a bustling city, such as San Francisco, which I actually did late last October. At that particular time, the US presidential campaign was nearing its climax just one week ahead of Election Day, as the San Francisco Giants team won the World baseball championship, which was coupled with the advent of the Halloween festival.
The US, which is the world’s economic superpower, receives its visitors with an official caution and yawning atmosphere as if it acquiesced to economic concerns after it had renounced its costly pride.
Washington Dulles airport , which receives the bulk of travelers coming to the US capital through Europe, features America’ fear of any visiting foreigner. Visitors usually stand in long lines, waiting for drastic security checks and/ or huge police dogs appallingly and zealously scrutinizing all new comers in what can be described as the most noticeable psychological legacy from the 9/11 terrorist attacks. Autumn has strewn about cherry leaves along Washington pavements surrounded by landmarks tinged with French taste and Greek-like design. A combination of scenes spurs visitors to think that the superpower that grapples with an economic crisis is to going to see another autumn visiting exhausted empires.
Furthermore, myriad renovations are simply and austerely carried out on Washington streets and buildings as the Japanese and European-made vehicles dominate vehicle lines in all US cities. It is here in America that gleaners of paradoxes can pinpoint many signs of austerity in the largest country of Capitalism and the guardian of its values.
Though the third debate that took place on October 23 between the Democratic presidential candidate, Barack Obama, and his Republican challenger, Mitt Romney, was allocated for the discussion of the US foreign policy, both nominees tended a little bit to deliberate upon economic issues that have been of key concern for Americans since the global economic crisis erupted.
“One of the challenges that have faced us over the recent years in the countries we governed (Iraq and Afghanistan) is that we tried to build up such countries while neglecting our economy, education and energy. We cannot give lessons to the world without applying same in our country,” said Obama.
Responding to Romney, who pushed for an increase in defense spending, and criticized his rival’s military policies by accusing him of stinting military spending and of weakening the US influence across the world, Obama said, “The world needs a strong America. therefore, it is important to rebuild America. My plan is this: let us first bring industrial jobs into our country. This is actually what I have done when I subsidized automakers. We should also do our best to create job opportunities for tomorrow , mainly in the field of energy”.
Last week, Hareth al-Nathari, a prominent AQAP cleric, made what I believe is his first video appearance on behalf of the group. The tone of his calls to arms were far more restrained than the images of angry, screaming jihadis that the idea of a statement by a leading Al Qaeda figure probably calm to mind, but they were certainly gripping enough. Nevertheless, most Yemenis I showed the video to seemed almost disinterested in what he was saying. Instead, they were distracted by what he was wearing.
Unlike his comrade Ibrahim al-Rubaish, who appeared bearded in a thobe and gutra in a video released the same day, Nathari appeared clean shaven, wearing a uniquely Yemeni form of dress. Such clothes come with a special meaning, one that dates back to the days before the fall of the Yemeni monarchy when traditional class distinctions were set in stone and Qadhis (judges) and sayyids (descendants of the prophet Mohamed) could typically be discerned by their specific mode of dress. They’re still worn today, of course, but far less commonly than in the past–grooms from sayyid families will don traditional dress for their wedding photos, while politicians and officials descended from qadhis tend to treat the traditional apparel as a sort of formal wear.
It’s hard to differentiate the clothes of a sayyid from the clothes of a qadhi; to make things even more difficult, the details vary from region to region. The easiest way to tell a Yemenis background is from their family’s background (there’s a reason I have a 150 dollar encyclopedia of Yemeni last names). A quick check confirmed that Nathari was indeed from the Natharis of Baadan, Ibb, who’ve had members in the ‘ulama (the ranks of scholars of Islamic jurisprudence) for centuries. Case closed, I thought to myself, he’s a descendant of qadhis dressed as a qadhi. But the reactions of many Yemenis I showed the video to fueled doubts.
I was sitting next to a friend from Ibb when I first saw the video. We both immediately thought he was dressed as a sayyid; his comment that the Nathari wasn’t a sayyid name was what initially spurred me to consult my multi-volume encyclopedia of Yemeni last names. He was too focused on the oddity of extremist cleric’s sartorial choice to do much speculating on its meaning.
“It’s so weird,” he kept repeating. “I’ve never seen Qaeda dress like this.”
A different friend initially responded with certitude.
“He’s dressed as a sayyid,” he said. “Al Qaeda is trying to appeal to sayyids.”
Hailing from a prominent sayyid family himself, he quipped as he explained his argument.
“Come on,” he joked, “When I see a guy dressed like this, I immediately have to pay attention.”
A few more inquiries to a few other friends lead to a lot of speculation but little certitude; one friend went as far as to argue that Nathari’s clothes were those of a Hadrami sayyid. Finally, the next day, I gave Abdulrazzaq al-Jamal a call. Abdulrazzaq is an AQAP analyst with pretty unparalleled sources within the group, so I have no reason to doubt what he said: that Nathari was wearing qadhi clothes due to his position in AQAP’s sharia council. Still, I had to ask him what his initial reaction was.
“When I first saw the video,” he said, “I did think [Nathari’s] clothes were kind of strange.”
Of course, Abdulrazzaq’s remarks were only one part of the to the question of what Nathari’s clothes meant. On one level, yes, they were simply a sign of his role in the group, worn to demonstrate his prominence. But on another level, the cleric’s mode of dress served as a subtle demonstration of AQAP’s larger strategy.
The key is the juxtaposition of Nathari’s uniquely Yemeni clothes with his broadly directed remarks. It’s hard to make the case that his statement was Yemen-focused: subtitled in English, it delved into recent events in everywhere from Afghanistan to the Sinai, casting the actions of disparate groups like the Taliban, Jabhat al-Nusra and AQAP itself as part of one single movement, as different arms of a global jihad. It’s obviously not my place to tell AQAP how to cast its activities, but to paraphrase the comments of a few analysts I talked to, the statement seemed almost divorced from the bulk of AQAP’s activities on the ground in Yemen. Nathari’s clothes, however, brought things back to the country, subtly demonstrating, I guess, that the group can indeed walk and chew gum at the same time.
In that sense, the video functions as a clear–if, perhaps, inadvertent–demonstration of the reason for AQAP’s resilience, of what, ultimately, makes the group so dangerous: they can play to audiences abroad while still doing the same for those in Yemen itself. The video wasn’t the first time a man of Nathari’s ilk appeared in a video in Yemeni dress–Anwar al-Awlaki, for example, often delivered addresses in the traditional clothes of a tribesman from his native province of Shabwa.
When it comes to discussions of AQAP, the focus often tends to be on the group’s global aspirations: its status as an Al Qaeda franchise, its plots to strike the US. But AQAP’s strength is inextricably tied to its knowledge of local dynamics in Yemen and its ability to manipulate and respond to them. Drone strikes and military offensives can kill militants, but those battling AQAP can achieve victory by beating them at this part of their larger game–by outplaying them on the ground.
All AQAP statements are analyzed and dissected by intelligence agencies across the world; Nathari’s latest, I’m sure, is no different. I have little doubt that there will be a great degree of effort paid to divining the larger meaning of what he’s saying. But I wonder how much attention western analysts will pay to what Nathari was wearing.
link to video; for those who didn’t get it, title is a reference to the American board game “Guess Who?”
A few months ago, the Yemen Polling Center released a report on Public Perceptions of Security Sector and the Police Work in Yemen. The report’s summary runs 86 pages and tackles a pretty decent array of issues, ranging from Yemenis thoughts on female police officers to their confidence in security forces. Ultimately, however, a decent—and arguably inordinate—degree of attention has been placed on a single question, which is copied below.
I’ve been dealing with Yemen long enough to know that anything drone related will eventually prove to be a lightening rod for attention, so I guess its not surprising. But looking at some of the discussion of this small excerpt of the report, the question remains: what, if anything, does page 32 of the latest YPC report tell us about the perceptions of US drone strikes in Yemen.
On a superficial level, the result could be used to suggest that Yemenis don’t really care about the strikes; only .8% listed drones as the greatest threat to their personal security. It may be worth noting that, ironically, that is a greater percentage than those who answered the same question with “Al Qaeda;” still, it isn’t difficult to imagine how some would seize upon such an interpretation to legitimize certain policies or cast aspersions on certain assertions.
Of course, the results to the query come with two significant caveats—it was an open question and only a single response was recorded. It wasn’t, ultimately, a question aiming to divine anything specifically related to Yemenis thoughts on drones. That being said, it is rather troubling that, according to the survey, there are over 100,000 Yemenis who see American airstrikes in Yemen as the greatest threat to their personal security.
Nevertheless, in my opinion, it is rather foolish to see these results as significant evidence of anything one way or another on Yemenis’ perceptions of drone strikes. Respondents were unable to offer more than one answer—to state the obvious, seeing financial matters as the greatest threat to one’s personal safety, for example, doesn’t preclude a person from seeing drone strikes as a danger as well, especially considering the areas where drone strikes tend to occur are quite poor and underdeveloped. It is also important to remember that strikes are largely concentrated in certain parts of the country. The majority of Yemenis live in provinces where drone strikes have never taken place; it would be difficult to imagine that a Yemeni living in, say, Taiz or Hudayda, would see drones as a threat to their personal safety—regardless of how they feel about them on an abstract level. That itself is another key aspect: a Yemeni from the province of Taiz, where a drone strike has never occurred, can still vociferously condemn drones as a violation of Yemen’s sovereignty even if they feel that they present no personal threat to their own safety.
In the end Yemeni perceptions of drone strikes are a complicated issue that can’t be covered in a single question—especially a question in a report that’s devoted to a completely different topic. The YPC has put out a useful report on an important subject. The temptation to use said report to attempt to derive answers to a question it wasn’t asking is probably one that’s best avoided.
“The unification of Yemen is the only positive event in modern Arab history,” the late Muammar al-Gaddafi apparently once remarked.
Two and a half decades after the merger of the former Yemen Arab Republic (YAR) and People’s Democratic Republic of Yemen (PDRY), (“north” and “south” Yemen, respectively), the Colonel’s words arguably come off as a tragic joke.
” يا وحدة الشعب حلم السنين (Oh, the unity of the people, dream of the years),” reads a line from a famous Yemeni poem that was adapted into one of my favorite Yemeni songs. In 1990, the fulfillment of this collective longing for the unification of greater Yemen fueled a collective burst of celebration across the newly formed country. In light of the events that followed, its rather depressing to think back to the unfulfilled hopes of that particular moment in the recent past.
“Nobody knew Hadi was this clever.”
This time last year, success for newly inaugurated president Abdo Rabbu Mansour Hadi was roughly defined as mere survival. Few knew much about the man many mocked as “عبدربه مركوز.” He’d stood silently by Ali Abdullah Saleh as his Vice President for well over a decade, but it was easy for skeptics to joke that his accomplishments were largely limited to presiding over ribbon-cutting ceremonies as Saleh’s stand in.
12 months later, Hadi’s been able to hold his own, proving many pessimists wrong. Still, true leadership requires more than just (barely) holding Yemen together. Giving a positive review of Hadi’s first spate of reforms last Spring, one Yemeni political analyst added a key caveat, stressing that the president “has yet to prove that he’s the state builder that Yemen so desperately needs.” His words, arguably, are just as true today.
Full article reflecting on Hadi at one year for the Christian Science Monitor
و نفس المقالة بالغة العربية
Found the following in my spam folder today:
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Over the past few days, the village of Jaleela, in the southern province of al-Dhale, has been the scene of a fierce violence. The facts are muddled, owing to Jaleela’s general isolation and the (unsurprisingly) differing narratives of those involved. But the basic chain of events appears more or less uncontested. A convoy of troops from the Republican Guard was met with some form of resistance from locals as it traveled through the area. Things soon escalated. Subsequent clashes proved deadly, leaving at least three–including a child–dead, and raising accusations that the military used excessive force.
Its unfortunate for a number of reasons, but sporadic violence in rural areas of Yemen often risks fading into a blur. Regardless, here–or anywhere, for that matter– clashes are almost never just “clashes;” regardless of catalyst, events cannot be divorced from the environment in which they occur. And while recent events in al-Dhale may seem minor in the grand scheme of things, the violence touches on issues that reverberate far beyond the south Yemeni countryside.