Dec 4, 2009

US Teacher Deported from Burma

Beyond RangoonImage via Wikipedia

December 3, 2009

Irrawaddy News: An American English teacher working for the American Center in Rangoon was deported on Saturday, according to a source close to the US Embassy in Rangoon who spoke to The Irrawaddy on conditions of anonymity.

Christina Peterson was briefly detained at a highway bus station in Rangoon on her way back from the American Consulate in Mandalay, where she had given a talk on environmental issues. Some members of the National League for Democracy (NLD) also participated in the talk, according to the source.

“She just talked about environmental issues in Mandalay. The moment she got off the bus in Rangoon, she was immediately taken to the airport and wasn’t even allowed to go back to her room,” the source said.

Drake Weisert, Assistant Public Affairs Officer of the US Embassy in Rangoon, confirmed the news but declined to give details, citing privacy reasons.

Peterson had been working for the American Center in Rangoon as an English teacher since 2007, and she was also an organizer of an environmental club for the center. The American Center provides English language courses and runs a library popular among young people in Rangoon.

Last May, US citizens Jerry Redfern and his wife Karen Coates, who were teaching feature writing and photography in Mandalay, were also forced to leave the country.

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Than Shwe Confounds His Peers

PALE, MYANMAR - APRIL 26: Burmese villagers he...Image by Getty Images via Daylife

by Wai Moe

Burma's military despot Snr-Gen Than Shwe surprised and confused his fellow generals at a four-monthly military commanders' meeting in Naypyidaw by ignoring pressing political issues and instead devoting his speech to the development of the country's economy in the post-election era, according to military sources in the capital.

Than Shwe reportedly told his fellow generals at the meeting on Nov. 23-28 that Burma is ready for a new government in line with his vision of a “disciplined democracy,” and addressed numerous economic developments and projects for the future.


A source who provided The Irrawaddy with a document on Friday analyzing the proceedings at the closed-door meeting said regional commanders and top-ranking generals were caught off-guard by the dictator's lofty aspirations and apparent far-sightedness, because he normally dwells on petty internal matters, and methods of quelling political dissent and securing power.

Than Shwe instead spoke of establishing solid business foundations in the country in the post-election period, of developing Burma's human resources and of the state's responsibility to promote a solid middle-class in the country.

During the meeting, sources say Than Shwe spoke confidently about the development of the national economy and effused about the prospects of billions of dollars in investment from China, referring to the Sino-Burmese oil-gas pipeline projects and the development of the Kyaukpyu deep sea port off the Arakan coast and related railway systems.

At the meeting, he apparently advocated expanding industry, especially factories related to oil and gas exploration and production. He also alluded to the Dawei deep sea port project in southern Burma, spoke of expanding the shipping industry and services sector, and predicted the Burmese economy would soon be “booming,” the source said.

The military dictator reportedly went on to pledge that Burma will furthermore be immune from electricity shortages because the country's hydroelectric projects would soon produce some 16,000 MW of power per year.

According to the military sources, the fact that Than Shwe did not address the upcoming election and pending political concerns, such as Aung San Suu Kyi's request for a meeting, suggests he is confident that his current strategy is working and that events are playing out in his favor.

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EBO Funds to Target Migrants and IDPs

Charm Tong & Dr. Cynthia MaungImage by m.gifford via Flickr

By SAW YAN NAING Friday, December 4, 2009

The Euro-Burma Office (EBO) will focus funding on Burmese migrant workers and internally displaced persons (IDPs) in ethnic areas where armed conflicts are active, according to the organization's Executive Director, Harn Yawnghwe.

The decision came after the meeting between the Brussels-based EBO and Burmese opposition, civil society groups and ethnic groups in Chiang Mai in northern Thailand from Dec. 1 to 2.

Yawnghwe said his organization wants to strengthen civil society groups assisting migrant workers and IDPs because such people are in need.

Any group wanting to assist migrant workers or IDPs in armed conflict zones in eastern Burma can submit proposals to the EU donors.

“Euro Burma want to set up committees to assist these groups and want to give funds to them. Those who are interested are asked to submit proposals,” said Dr. Thiha Maung, who attended the meeting and is the director of the National Health and Education Committee's (NHEC) health program.

It is likely that the EBO will secure some funding for exile-based aid groups as funding for cross-border activities is unstable and many Western government donors are not willingly providing further cross-border aid to nongovernmental organizations (NGOs) in exile, he added.

Founded in 1997, the Brussels-based EBO helps the Burmese democracy movement prepare for transition to democracy and keeps the international community informed about the situation in Burma.

Transparency and accountability of funding among border-based NGOs were also discussed at the meeting.

“International donor countries such as Sweden, Norway, Canada and Australia are hoping for change in Burma in 2010 and want to focus aid directly inside Burma if the situation improves after 2010 election,” Thiha Maung said.

Harn Yawnghwe also said the EBO will provide financial supports to opposition parties or ethnic groups that will contest in the general elections in 2010 if they need support. This should not be misconstrued as EBO support for the Burmese regime 2008's constitution and planned 2010 elections, he said.

The aim of supporting those groups is to let them strive for democracy and ethnic rights within any political space that might be opened up by the Burmese regime, he added.

Observers said international donors indicated they want to focus humanitarian assistance directly inside Burma after they identified problems with cross-border aid.

However, observers said both internally-based aid and cross-border aid are needed since both reach different target populations, whether deep inside Burma or on the Thai-Burmese border.

Due to international donors reducing their funding and distancing themselves from cross-border aid projects, Mae Sot-based Mae Tao Clinic is concerned about funding, which has been cut and reduced.

The number of outpatients coming to the clinic has grown by about 20 percent per year, however.

The clinic, which treats Burmese migrants, refugees and Burmese people who cross the border for medical treat, is struggling with a “major funding crisis.” It faces a predicted shortfall of about US $750,000 in 2010, amounting to 25 percent of its operating budget, according to Dr Cynthia Maung writing on the clinic's Web site on Oct. 27.

Other border-based NGO aid groups are also struggling with the funding crisis, which has resulted in anomalous situations across the border. Schoolteachers in Mon State being provided for by funding from donors such as the NHEC, for example, have been working without salaries since June.

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Looking for the Switch to Light Up Burma’s Cities

by William Boot

Efforts by Burma’s military regime to improve the country’s unreliable electricity supply ahead of promised national elections next year face big hurdles.

A new hydroelectric dam near the central city of Mandalay is being tested this month and in theory it could expand Burma’s power generating capacity by over 40 percent.

Additionally, a 150-kilometer pipeline is to be built in the south to carry gas to Rangoon, seemingly to alleviate perpetual power shortages there.

An inadequate and decrepit infrastructure, however, is likely to result in wastage of much of any extra electricity—if it isn’t sold to China anyway.

Chinese developers are this month conducting tests on the 790-megawatt capacity Yeywa hydro dam nearing completion on the Myitnge River.

The project, which has been under construction since 2004 and has reportedly cost more than US $600 million, should raise Burma’s electricity generating capacity by more than 40 percent. However, with so much Chinese involvement—including investment of about $200 million—some of the power might be pumped north into China’s equally hungry Yunnan province, observers believe.

The Yeywa dam, 50 kilometers south of blackout-plagued Mandalay, is about 300 kilometers from the Chinese border.

Burma has one of the world’s worst electricity generating capacities—a mere 1,700 megawatts for a population of around 50 million.

In comparison, neighboring Thailand has about 30,000 megawatts for a population of about 60 million people.

Burma’s power predicament is exacerbated by the fact that more than 25 percent of the electricity generated is lost “in transmission and distribution” through poor cable equipment, according to figures published in a report by the United States Central Intelligence Agency.

Burmese state-controlled media have said the Yeywa electricity will be pumped into what passes for a national grid via 230-volt cable.

“Burma’s electricity grid system is far from national because it’s concentrated in the central belt between Rangoon and Mandalay,” Bangkok-based energy industries analyst-consultant Collin Reynolds told The Irrawaddy.

“Under half of it has a 230-volt capacity, so even within the limited transmission region much of the cable is probably inadequate for handling a big boost in supply such as might come out of the Yeywa [power plant],” Reynolds said.

Even within the electricity transmission belt, noisy and polluting diesel generators are in daily use as essential backup.

Most of northern and southeast Burma and nearly all border areas have no connection to the grid.

Despite these infrastructure failings, the Burmese military government has approved at least 12 hydro dams across the country.

If they are all built they would have a generating capacity of over 22,000 megawatts. But much of this is earmarked to be pumped into China, India or Thailand.

Many dam projects are still at the drawing board stage and involve Chinese and Indian state engineering companies. China’s Sinohydro Corporation—a principal developer at Yeywa—figures in a number of them.

China is especially interested in using Burma as a proxy for hydro dams because back home it is facing increasingly vociferous opposition from environmentalists. Protests led Prime Minister Wen Jiabao to curtail river dam developments in neighboring Yunnan.

The NGO Burma Rivers Network, a rights and environmental organization that monitors river developments, says dams in Burma lead to “displacement, militarization, human rights abuses, and irreversible environmental damage, threatening the livelihoods and food security of millions. The power and revenues generated are going to the military regime and neighboring countries.”

The Yeywa dam completion coincides with the award of a $77 million contract to Singapore engineering firm Swiber to build a pipeline to carry gas from the Yadana gas field in the Gulf of Martaban to Rangoon.

The contract was issued by the junta-controlled Myanmar Oil and Gas Enterprise (MOGE), which has a stake in Yadana managed by Total of France. MOGE says the gas is to fuel Burma’s largest city and commercial center.

Most of the 780 million cubic feet of gas produced daily by Yadana goes to Thailand, but MOGE says it intends to have 200 million cubic feet a day delivered to Rangoon for domestic use by mid-2010.

Several small gas turbine plants exist in the greater Rangoon area, but wider use of gas to fuel more power plants would require new investment, and there is little backup capacity when problems strike.

In July, for instance, the Myanmar Electric Power Enterprise cut power supply in Rangoon to just six hours a day because of infrastructure damage caused by bad weather.

About 70 percent of Thailand’s electricity is generated by gas, and at least half of it comes from Burma.

But while Burma sits in the blackout dark, neighboring Thailand has a power glut, caused by over-development coupled with a sharp drop in domestic demand for electricity due to a recession triggered by the global financial crisis.

Thailand's surfeit could be good news for Shan communities living along the Salween river near the Thai-Burmese border.

The Electricity Generating Authority of Thailand is having second thoughts about its agreements to cooperate in the construction of up to five hydro dams on the Salween, which would produce thousands of megawatts it probably no longer needs.

UN in Malaysia Grants More Burmese Refugee Status

About 11,000 Burmese refugees in Malaysia including Chin, Mon, Shan and Kachin were recognized by the United Nations Higher Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) in 2009, making them eligible for resettlement in third countries.

Of the total, Chin numbered about 5,000 people; Mon, 1,800; followed by Kachin and Shan at about 1,000 and other ethnic groups. Arakan were not recognized this year.

A young Burmese refugee participates a demonstration outside the Office of the UN High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, last year. (Photo: AP)

It was first time the UNHCR recognized such a large number of Burmese refugees. Burmese refugees experienced difficulties earlier this year when Thailand launched a crackdown on illegal Burmese migrants attempting to enter the country from the Malaysia-Thai border, said a member of the Alliance of Chin Refugees (ACR).

According to ACR, about 50,000 Chin currently live in Malaysia. An estimated 20,000 Chin have been granted UNHCR refugees status in Malaysia since 2001.

Nai Roi Mon, an official with the Mon Refugee Office (MRO) in Malaysia, told The Irrawaddy on Wednesday that it processed about 3,000 Mon for UNHCR refugee status.

According to the MRO, no Mon were granted refugee status in 2007, and only 500 were recognized in 2008.

“They have given favorable recognition to children under age 18, especially from families with many children, but no husband. They also favor older men, over 50, as well,” he said.

There are about 20,000 Mon living in Malaysia, many illegally, according to the MRO.

“If you have an UNHCR card, if you are arrested the UNHCR can help you during detention. This is an advantage for people who work here,” he said.

Burmese refugees recognized by the UNHCR may wait for up to one year or longer for resettlement to third countries.

About 500,000 Burmese migrants work in Malaysia, legally and illegally, according to the Kuala Lumpur-based Burma Workers’ Rights Protection Committee.

At the end of October 2009, about 67,800 refugees and asylum-seekers were registered with the UNHCR in Malaysia, according to the UNHCR.

Of those, 62,000 are refugees from Burma, comprising 28,100 Chin, 16,100 Rohingya, 3,700 Burmese Muslims, 2,900 Kachin and other ethnic minorities.

The UNHCR said a large number of Burmese refugees remain unregistered. The refugee community estimates that unregistered refugees and asylum-seekers could number 30,000 people.

Burmese refugees living in Thailand continue to relocated to Malaysia to apply for refugee status. Many pay 18,000 Thai baht (US $500) or more to enter the country illegally.

The Malaysian government has cooperated with the UNHCR on humanitarian grounds since 1975 even though Malaysia has not signed the UN Convention Protocol Relating to the Status of Refugees.

Burmese refugees have been sent to third countries including the United States, Canada, Australia, France, New Zealand, Sweden, Finland, Denmark and Norway.

Dec 4, 2009 (DVB)–Three men who allegedly leaked information on Burma’s secret tunnel project appeared in a Rangoon court yesterday on spy charges

Dec 4, 2009 (DVB)–Three men who allegedly leaked information on Burma’s secret tunnel project appeared in a Rangoon court yesterday on charges of espionage, which could be punishable by death.

The men, a former army major and two Burmese foreign ministry officials, are also accused of leaking the details of senior governmental visits to North Korea and Russia. Intelligence documents detailing the two visits, as well as North Korean involvement in a project to develop underground military facilities across Burma, have been obtained by DVB. According to the documents, Burma’s ruling State Peace and Development Council (SPDC) has been developing the tunnels since 1996. As well as advanced communication systems and possible weapons factories, the tunnels are being built to accommodate battalions of troops in the event of an invasion. One of the three men, ex-major Win Naing Kyaw, had worked as a personal assistant for late junta secretary-2, General Tin Oo, who died in a helicopter crash in 2001. After retiring from the army, he joined a non-governmental organisation under the UN Development Programme in Burma, and went for training in Cambodia. He was arrested on his return at Rangoon International Airport on 29 July this year. Win Naing Kyaw, along with Thura Kyaw, a senior clerk from the foreign ministry’s European desk, is accused of leaking documents related to a 2006 visit by the SPDC’s second-in command, Maung Aye, to Russia, where he discussed the procurement of a guided missile system with Moscow’s deputy minister of defense, Yury Nikolayevich Baluyevsky. The two are also accused of exposing details of a trip by SPDC number three, Shwe Mann, to North Korea in 2008, where he visited tunnel complexes dug deep into the side of mountains that can hold heavy armoury, including chemical weapons. The information about the two visits was allegedly distributed via former SPDC official Aung Linn Htut, who is now living in exile after government authorities found the documents stored in his computer hard drive. The third defendant, Pyan Sein, is accused of spreading information about Burma’s tunnel project close to Naypyidaw via a woman known only as Ma Sint. The men are facing a raft of charges, including the Foreign Exchange Regulation Act, the Emergency Act, the Electronics Act and the Official Secrets Act. The final charge can be punishable by life imprisonment or execution. More army officials have also been detained in connection with the case. One of them, special warrant officer Aung Kyaw Linn from the Myanmar Army (ground force), is currently detained in a military prison under a direct order from the military court. The trial, which began on 3 November, is being held in a closed court inside Rangoon’s Insein prison, where Burmese opposition leader Aung San Suu Kyi was tried earlier this year. Reporting by Yee May Aung
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The Tajik Solution

Tajikistan  -  Dushanbe  -  1999Image by Brian Harrington Spier via Flickr

A Model for Fixing Afghanistan

George Gavrilis
GEORGE GAVRILIS is Assistant Professor of International Relations in the Department of Government at the University of Texas at Austin and an International Affairs Fellow at the Council on Foreign Relations.

As the Obama administration and the rest of the international community grapple with the challenge of stabilizing Afghanistan, analogies have proliferated as fast as insurgents. Policymakers should learn from experiences in Iraq, one hears -- or Vietnam, or Malaya, and so on. Ironically, the best analogy may lie right next door in Tajikistan.

Soon after gaining its independence from the Soviet Union in 1991, Tajikistan collapsed into a devastating civil war. Government forces, Islamists, and local warlords battled one another across its wildly remote and mountainous territory in a prolonged conflict that killed thousands of people, displaced half a million residents, and stranded 80 percent of the population in grinding poverty. Many of the combatants sustained their efforts by taking part in a multibillion-dollar drug trade, while extremists based in lawless frontier provinces launched terror attacks on neighboring states.

Today, Tajikistan is still corrupt and authoritarian, but it is also tolerably stable -- stable enough for the international community to forget about it, which is a striking mark of success. The turnaround was due largely to an intelligently conceived and successfully implemented intervention by a small UN mission and a core of unlikely bedfellows that included Iran and Russia. Rather than forcing free and fair elections, throwing out warlords, and flooding the country with foreign peacekeepers, the intervening parties opted for a more limited and realistic set of goals. They brokered deals across political factions, tolerated warlords where necessary, and kept the number of outside peacekeeping troops to a minimum. The result has been the emergence of a relatively stable balance of power inside the country, the dissuasion of former combatants from renewed hostilities, and the opportunity for state building to develop organically. The Tajik case suggests that in trying to rebuild a failed state, less may be more.

Tajikistan's civil war ended in June 1997, when the various government and opposition factions signed a peace accord. The accord recognized the government's leader, Emomali Rakhmonov, as interim president but mandated elections and key concessions to opposition groups. Thirty percent of political appointments were reserved for the United Tajik Opposition, a loose grouping of opposition figures, Islamists, and local strongmen united only by the fact that each had independently fought against Rakhmonov and his factions. The accord required combatants to demobilize and disarm in exchange for amnesty and salaried positions in the Interior, Defense, and Emergency Situations ministries and the Tajik Border Forces.

The accord was the result of a three-year effort by the United Nations Mission of Observers in Tajikistan (UNMOT) and nearby states such as Iran, Russia, and Uzbekistan. These outside players hosted eight rounds of peace talks, restored multiple failed cease-fires, mediated on behalf of various factions, drafted vital sections of the peace agreement, and formed a Contact Group to monitor and troubleshoot implementation. The United States and European Union remained outside the group but occasionally offered input and assistance.

The members of the Contact Group had different interests, yet, at least with respect to Tajikistan, they also had one thing in common: a desire to prevent a resumption of civil war without spending much money. UNMOT's first operating budget was a paltry $1.9 million. International aid to Tajikistan actually declined the year after the accord. Iran was willing to sponsor cultural and economic exchange but was too strapped to give major grants. The peacekeeping force Russia offered was small. The Contact Group, in short, could afford to give Tajikistan only a basic makeover, and so it set its sights low, not wanting to let the ideal be the enemy of the acceptable. It concentrated on striking a balance across the country's varied political factions and dissuading them from restarting the war.

One thing that went by the wayside was democratic purity. By conventional standards, Tajikistan's first postwar presidential elections, on November 6, 1999, were a disaster. Rakhmonov blocked opposition hopefuls from gathering enough petitions to run. To create the appearance of competition, Tajikistan's Supreme Court ruled that Davlat Usmon, a popular opposition Islamist, must stand for election. On election day, pro-Rakhmonov officials pretended to count ballots, police escorted voters into booths, and ghost polling stations with no registered voters reported landslide results. Rakhmonov won handily.

The peace accord was on the verge of being derailed. Disaffected members of the opposition and warlords in the provinces threatened to take up arms, while the United States and Europe blasted the flawed elections and demanded the government enact democratic reforms. At this point, however, the story took an interesting turn. Rather than focus on procedural fairness, the Contact Group scrambled to ease tensions across the factions and help the opposition. The group brokered dozens of negotiations and cajoled the government to sign a protocol benefiting future opposition candidates. UNMOT refrained from publicly condemning Rakhmonov in exchange for assurances that he would quickly appoint opposition figures to key national and provincial posts. These behind-the-scenes measures saved the peace accord and compelled a government that had stolen elections to be more inclusive.

Warlords are an enduring feature of Tajikistan's political landscape. During the Soviet period, much of rural Tajikistan remained under their influence, and when the Soviet Union collapsed, they -- like other political challengers -- raced to grab abandoned weapons caches and smuggle arms from neighboring states. In the course of the civil war, many warlords fielded substantial security forces, created autonomous hamlets, and bankrolled their authority by taxing farmers, collecting tolls, and trading illicit goods. The strongmen often harassed UNMOT military observers who traveled around the country to monitor the peace accord, and sometimes even took them hostage.

These experiences convinced the Contact Group that the warlords could not be controlled and would pose serious political obstacles if challenged. So it opted for a laissez-faire approach instead, nominally integrating warlords into the political structure while allowing them to retain substantial autonomy. Some received key positions in district and provincial governments, while others were given command of provincial police and military units with formal titles and negligible salaries. A high-level fact-finding mission from UN headquarters blasted UNMOT's arrangement and noted that warlord "units continue to exist separately from governmental units, fully preserving their command structures." Nevertheless, the arrangement has kept warlords happy and the government stable. It has done little to curb corruption, drug trafficking, or abuses of authority but much to reduce the probability of renewed civil war.

The Contact Group also recognized that peacekeepers could help stabilize the situation on the ground but had no interest in, or resources for, a major commitment. So Russia took the lead in organizing a small CIS contingent of peacekeeping troops in and around the Tajik capital of Dushanbe. They were touted as impartial peacekeepers but really provided a secure cordon around the pro-Moscow Rakhmonov government. The Russian military mission was strong enough to prevent opposition groups from seizing Dushanbe but light enough to avoid being seen as an occupation. It provided the Contact Group with essential intelligence and had a pacifying effect on the country.

Russian soldiers were also stationed at strategic points along the Tajik-Afghan border in the south. Evidence surfaced in 2001 that some of these units were trafficking in Afghan opiates, but they still provided Tajikistan with a fairly effective buffer against an estimated 6,000 extremists who had earlier fled to Afghanistan and were now eager to return and derail the accord.

Tajikistan today is hardly a model of democracy or development. Elections are stacked, positions in the government bought and sold, and crucial public goods and services doled out to regime cronies. The country remains an economic basket case dependent on foreign aid, worker remittances, hundreds of UN Development Program projects, and proceeds from an estimated $2-3 billion annual drug trade. Yet Tajikistan has attained a level of political stability such that a return to civil war, extremism, and chaos seems unlikely.

Privately, many U.S. and UN officials in Kabul concede that the best-case scenario for Afghanistan is that in two or three decades it will arrive at the place where Tajikistan and its other Central Asian neighbors are today. Yet in spite of such realistic judgments, the international community has publicly committed itself to a much more ambitious agenda: the transformation of Afghanistan into a prosperous democratic country where rule of law prevails. The problem with this lofty vision is not only that it is unattainable but that in pursuing it, chances to achieve more practical outcomes will be squandered.

How can the Tajik playbook be adapted to Afghanistan? First, policymakers in Washington, Brussels, and Kabul should develop a coordinated backroom strategy to ensure that the opposition is included in key government decisions and positions even after incumbents such as Karzai steal elections.

Second, the International Security Assistance Force should redeploy troops away from the interior to key positions along Afghanistan's international boundaries in order to police the borders against incoming insurgents and arms smugglers.

Third, the international community should give warlords much freer rein so long as they do not take up arms against the government or international forces. However repugnant the warlords may be, the central government simply does not have the ability to displace them, and trying to do so can lead to unpleasant consequences. Until recently, for example, Ismail Khan was a powerful warlord in the Afghan west. He declined a political appointment in Kabul under President Hamid Karzai, refused to disarm his foot soldiers, and withheld millions of dollars in customs revenue from the central treasury. Yet he ran his region with an iron fist, dispersed sorely needed public services, and served as a bulwark against the Taliban and rival warlords. His forced departure in 2004, together with his replacement by inept central government officials, enabled a resurgence of Taliban activities and an expansion of the drug trade in the area.

Fourth, the United States should seriously engage on Afghanistan with Russia and Iran. Given Russia's stinging history in the country, it cannot offer to send troops. But Russian political advisers can transfer valuable insights on the conduct of border-control missions and lessons learned about the corrupting effects of trafficking on soldiers. Iran's role is perhaps even more sensitive, yet Washington and Tehran share interests in defeating the insurgency, suppressing trafficking, and fostering political stability in the Afghan west. And Iranian experience in mediating the Tajik conflict might usefully inform similar initiatives in Afghanistan.

Applying the Tajik model to Afghanistan will not give the United States and its partners the outcome that they want. But if they try it, they just might find they get what they need.

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Dec 3, 2009

Gerindra and ‘Greater Indonesia'

Gerindra and ‘Greater Indonesia' Print E-mail

Prabowo’s party has deep roots in Indonesian political mythology


Aboeprijadi Santoso

090220-prabowo_at_jfcc1.jpg
Prabowo dreams of a Greater Indonesia
Aboeprijadi Santoso

Grand designs thrive in times of crisis. They are often a part of reinvigorated nationalism and have resulted in populist, authoritarian regimes. Sometimes, as with Hitler, Stalin, or the Khmer Rouge, they have produced humanitarian disasters. Other times they have fizzled out or ended in debacle.

Indonesia has recently witnessed the revival of such grand designs, that of ‘Indonesia Raya’ or Greater Indonesia. Promoted in this year’s elections by the former military general, Prabowo Subianto, this idea dates back to before even the early years of Indonesian nationalism.

Dreaming of greatness

Indonesia’s history is filled with great hopes and dreams. Some it inherited from the scores of kingdoms in the archipelago. Others were born from the ashes of two great imperial powers. The Dutch dreamed romantically of a Girdle of Emeralds (Gordel van Smaragd) draped along the equator. The Japanese incorporated Indonesia in a vast ‘Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere’. Both dreams - despite the latter’s much shorter life – had great impacts on the young nation.

The newly born state in the 1940s inherited not just a legacy of colonial oppression, but also a swathe of ideas, both native and modern, that had been debated and nurtured since early in the twentieth century. The Dutch ‘ethical’ spirit from the late nineteenth century inspired the thought of modernisation. At the same time, Japan’s 1905 victory over Russia stimulated a kind of jingoistic euphoria.

Many Indonesian intellectuals in the 1930s saw fascism as a trendy idea. Some considered it a danger that could somehow turn into a ‘new hope’

The pioneering women’s champion R.A. Kartini envisaged the dawning of new hope for an entire people. Young ethnic nationalists discovered they could work together towards one single nation. The lawyer Mohammad Yamin dreamed that this nation might grow beyond the Netherlands Indies - his Yawadwipa Nusantara (Archipelago of Eight) included Peninsular Malaya. The socialist Sutan Sjahrir condemned ‘feudalism’, feared militarism, and worked for a modern democracy. Sukarno spoke of the ‘Golden Bridge’ towards a bright future. Islamists and communists held up their own utopias. Soepomo, a Dutch-educated lawyer who was a key framer of the constitution of 1945, evoked the nation as one great community (Gemeenschap), protected by the State as a benevolent Patron. Villagers, also, seemed eternally to remember the myth of the coming Ratu Adil, ‘the Just Ruler’.

Parindra and the patron state

These were the values the new republic was supposed to bring into being. None had expressed ideas of national greatness as clearly as the medical doctor Soetomo, founder in 1935 of the political party Parindra - Partai Indonesia Raya, the Greater Indonesia Party. This party admired Japan’s revivalist spirit and popularised Hitler’s fascist ideas. Parindra was a split from the movement widely seen as the pioneer of the national awakening, Boedi Oetomo. The spirit of Greater Indonesia was an important asset for the genesis and strengthening of nationhood. But it could also be distorted to provoke anti-democratic emotions.

Soepomo’s idea of the State as Patron was akin to that of Soewardi Soerjaningrat, better known as Ki Hadjar Dewantara, Indonesia’s ‘Father of Education’. Both were Dutch-educated as well as culturally conservative. They were deeply nativist – that is, oriented to Javanese tradition. Both harboured sympathies for Hitler’s leadership style. Many Indonesian intellectuals in the 1930s saw fascism as a trendy idea. Some considered it a danger that could somehow turn into a ‘new hope’. Few stood firmly against it.

Suharto’s generals appropriated Parindra’s and Soepomo’s celebration of the State-as-Great Patron to justify the New Order’s authoritarian rule

Diffuse motifs associated with the idea of Indonesia Raya can be found throughout the post-independent period. Outward-looking and expansive, they sometimes carried a chauvinistic and even megalomaniac spirit. But they were not unchallenged, and indeed they ultimately failed. Sukarno aggrandised his Guided Democracy by trying to create an alliance of Malaya, the Philippines and Indonesia that he called Maphilindo. He saw himself as a champion of all newly independent states, the New Emerging Forces. All went nowhere. Suharto’s New Order, in turn, aggressively expanded the republic only to shamefully end up in the great fiasco of East Timor. He was also badly mistaken when he went to the International Court of Justice with Malaysia in 1996 over the Sipadan-Ligitan islands. His drive to crush Aceh’s rebellion was characterised by the same spirit. His generals appropriated Parindra’s and Soepomo’s celebration of the State-as-Great Patron to justify the New Order’s authoritarian rule.

Renaissance

Back in the colonial period, the Dutch and educated Indonesians often pictured the communities as idyllic, harmonious and backward. This image was attractive to the populist Parindra. Populism in those days presumed a homogenous society, denying the very existence of rich and poor social classes.

Today another, highly spirited rightwing populist political party has emerged. Its name, Gerindra, Gerakan Indonesia Raya, the Greater Indonesia Movement, signifies its fervour for revitalising the greatness of the nation. Founded on 6 February 2008, the party is linked to ex-general Prabowo Subianto, aged 58, who is also President Suharto’s former son-in-law. Prabowo is a maverick who likes to present himself heroically. Whereas Gerindra’s spiritual predecessors in the 1930s such as Soepomo and Soewardi were strongly oriented to the Dutch and to Europe, Gerindra has a purely local orientation. But it has a rather similar dream. It is a vehicle for “Indonesia’s Renaissance”, Prabowo has said.

Prabowo’s lieutenant in Gerindra is the still-vigorous Sukarnoist Permadi. He calls Prabowo ‘Little Sukarno’. During the recent fracas over ‘cultural items’ allegedly stolen by Malaysia, Permadi aggressively suggested that Indonesia should renew Sukarno’s 1960s ‘Ganyang Malaysia’ (Crush Malaysia) campaign. And Prabowo likes him.

Prabowo’s lieutenant in Gerindra calls Prabowo ‘Little Sukarno’ and suggests that Indonesia should renew Sukarno’s 1960s ‘Crush Malaysia’ campaign

However, the party is not about reviving Sukarno-style leftism. Its core leaders are a group of politicised retired officers whose careers rose under the New Order. Their main ideology is the sacredness of the unitary state and the 1945 constitution. They have denounced the post-New Order constitutional amendments (which were designed to improve protection of human rights). They are also sceptical about the Helsinki peace pact for Aceh. Asked whether he would review the pact, Prabowo replied: “If necessary yes, we’ll see later.”

Paths to power

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Prabowo dreams of a Greater Indonesia
Aboeprijadi Santoso

A decade ago Prabowo was quoted as saying there were only three paths to power: Islam, the military and being close to Suharto. He had been close to all three for some time. But by the time the collapse of Suharto’s government and the subsequent reformasi intervened he had alienated too many of those forces to achieve his top ambition. Now he is back. In April’s parliamentary elections his new party reached a remarkable five per cent of the total vote. In the presidential elections of July he was running mate to Sukarno’s daughter, Megawati Sukarnoputri of the nationalist PDIP (Democratic Party of Struggle). They placed second in a three-horse race.

Prabowo adopted a chauvinistic bravado. His campaign appearances co-opted hyper-nationalist symbols, imitating Sukarno’s jargon, body language, and even his safari shirt. ‘Now I’m fighting my last battle,’ he recently said. ‘I want to lay the ground for Indonesia’s Renaissance…We have to return to Indonesia, the true one.’

Besides the red-and-white flag, Gerindra uses the mythical eagle garuda to emphasise its love for the nation and to stimulate proud feelings of unity. Once simply flat, since the New Order the garuda has changed into a three-dimensional symbol that looks bigger and more aggressive.

Prabowo has never referred to his party’s namesake Parindra, but he is undoubtedly aware of its ideas. Like Parindra more than half a century ago, Gerindra places its hope on crisis – even after Prabowo’s defeat in the presidential elections. Nevertheless, Gerindra would do well to remember that Parindra, like other fascist groupings in the Netherlands Indies, did not survive into independence. ii

Aboeprijadi Santoso (‘Tossi’) (aboeprijadi@gmail.com) is Jakarta correspondent for Radio Netherlands Worldwide (http://www.rnw.nl/ ).

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The New Inquisition - The Nation

by Laila Lalami

At a literary festival in New York City some years ago, I was introduced to a French writer who, almost immediately after we shook hands, asked me where I was from. When the answer was "Morocco," he put down his drink and stared at me with anthropological curiosity. We spoke about literature, of course, and discovered a common love for the work of the South African writer J.M. Coetzee, but before long the conversation had turned to Moroccan writers, then to Moroccan writers in France, and then, as I expected it eventually would, to Moroccan immigrants in France--at which point the French writer declared, "If they were all like you, there wouldn't be a problem." His tone suggested he was paying me some sort of compliment, though I found it odd that he would want the 1 million Moroccans in his country to be carbon copies of someone he had barely met and whose views on immigration--had he asked about them--he might not have found quite to his liking. It was only later, when I had returned to my hotel room, that it dawned on me that the profile of the unproblematic Moroccan immigrant he might have had in mind was based solely on conspicuous things. Some of these, like skin color, were purely accidental; others, like sartorial choices or dietary practices, were in my opinion inessential, but from his vantage point perhaps they suggested a smaller degree of "Muslimness."

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Was this man really suggesting that I was a more desirable immigrant because I did not look Muslim? We had started our conversation as two equals, two potential friends, two writers discussing literature, but we had ended it as judge and supplicant--the former telling the latter whether or not she would make a suitable immigrant. And why on earth did I not say something on the spot? Why did I not ask him what he meant? Instead, I had stared back at him with what I imagine was dumbfounded perplexity, and then changed the subject. Perhaps if I had confronted him I would have been able to remove the sting of the insult that had lain hidden inside the compliment.

In any case, the man's assertion was a purely theoretical speculation. In practice, there is little evidence that even inconspicuous Muslims are fully accepted in France, or elsewhere in Europe. This was made abundantly clear in September, when Le Monde released video footage from an encounter between Brice Hortefeux, the interior minister of France, and Amine Benalia-Brouch, a young Algerian-French activist. Hortefeux and Benalia-Brouch, who were both attending the summer congress of the center-right party Union pour un Mouvement Populaire, were asked to pose for a photograph. A female onlooker touched Benalia-Brouch on the cheek and, in a voice ringing with approbation, said, "[Benalia-Brouch] is Catholic. He eats pork and drinks beer." "That is true," replied Benalia-Brouch, smiling. "He is our little Arab," the woman continued. Hortefeux added, "Very well. We always need one. When there's one, that's all right. It's when there are a lot of them that there are problems."

Cover of Cover of Londonistan

However offensive Hortefeux's statements may be, they are not particularly remarkable. In French politics, anti-immigrant posturing is something of a rite, often performed at the height of election season. When he was still mayor of Paris, and preparing to run for the presidency under the banner of the center-right party Rassemblement pour la République, Jacques Chirac bemoaned the plight of the "French worker," who was driven "mad" by "the noise and the smell" of the immigrant family next door, "with a father, three or four wives, twenty kids, taking in 50,000 Francs in welfare payments without working." After serving a term as president, Valéry Giscard d'Estaing took to the pages of Le Figaro Magazine to argue passionately that citizenship laws needed to replace the "right of land" (jus soli, automatic citizenship for those born on French soil) with the "right of blood" (jus sanguinis, citizenship determined through French ancestry). If such a distinction were not made, he warned, France would face "an invasion." The "right of blood" definition of citizenship, depending on how it is interpreted, could have ruled out the writer Alexandre Dumas, the footballer Michel Platini, the actress Isabelle Adjani, the physicist Marie Curie, the composer Maurice Ravel, the singer Charles Aznavour, as well as Nicolas Sarkozy, the current president of France, but perhaps Giscard d'Estaing felt his country could have done without any of them. (France eliminated the jus soli definition of citizenship in 1993 and then reinstated it in a limited form in 1997.)

In 2002 Manuel Valls, the mayor of Evry and a member of the Parti Socialiste, shot to national prominence when he tried to close down a halal supermarket because it did not carry pork or wine. He claimed the store had to "help us maintain some diversity." Two years before his election to the presidency in 2007, Sarkozy promised he would "hose down" the "scum" of the Paris suburbs, where many of the city's Muslims reside. Declarations such as these cut across party lines and constitute what the French press euphemistically calls dérapages, or blunders.

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The reactions to the dérapages are also something of a tradition. Members of the offending politician's party rally behind him, while members of the opposition call him a racist. Meanwhile, leaders of the far right gloat that--at long last!--the mainstream is recognizing something they have been saying for years. After Chirac's infamous "noise and smell" comments, for instance, Jean-Marie Le Pen, the avowedly racist and anti-Semitic leader of the Front National, gleefully insisted that the French would always prefer "the original to a copy."

So it would seem that the perfect Muslim immigrant in France is one who cleans the house, picks up the trash, attends to the infant or, increasingly, fixes the computer, heals the sick and runs the bank, and then disappears in a wisp of smoke, before his presence, his beliefs, his customs, his way of dress, his "noise and smell" offend the particular sensibilities of the general population. France is not alone in wishing that its Muslims were invisible. As anyone who has visited Western Europe in the past few years will tell you, the "Muslim question" is a matter of grave concern.

Cover of Cover of The Rage and The Pride

European Muslims have unintentionally revived a whole genre of nonfiction--the alarmist tract, billed as a "searing" yet "necessary" exposé on Europe's impending demise now that it has allowed so many millions of Muslims to settle on its shores. The titles are each more ominous than the last: The Rage and the Pride, by Oriana Fallaci (2002); Eurabia: The Euro-Arab Axis, by Bat Ye'Or (2005); Londonistan, by Melanie Phillips (2006); Menace in Europe: Why the Continent's Crisis Is America's Too, by Claire Berlinski (2006); and While Europe Slept: How Radical Islam Is Destroying the West From Within, by Bruce Bawer (2006). The authors rely mostly on tabloid or newspaper accounts; the arguments are simple, or, more accurately, simplistic, and the preferred method of inference is extrapolation.

The latest offering in this genre is Reflections on the Revolution in Europe: Immigration, Islam, and the West, by Christopher Caldwell, a senior editor at The Weekly Standard and a regular contributor to the Financial Times, The New York Times Magazine and many other publications. However, just as Chirac and Sarkozy prefer to say more carefully what Le Pen says bluntly, Caldwell articulates in polite and embellished language what Bawer and others have been saying aggressively for years: Europe is being overrun by Muslim immigrants; these immigrants show no sign of assimilating to European culture and social mores; and as a result, Europe is in danger of becoming an outpost of the Islamic empire.

muslim protestImage by derek7272 via Flickr

According to Caldwell, European "political and commercial elites" invited immigrants to work on the continent in order to help rebuild the infrastructure that had been destroyed during World War II. These immigrants were expected to take up jobs in construction and, in later waves, jobs that were deemed too menial or too low-paying for "European natives." Immigrants revitalized industries like car manufacturing in the 1950s, but by the 1960s they were already propping up those, like textile mills, that were failing. Deindustrialization, combined with the 1973 oil crisis, resulted in the closing of factories and the loss of thousands of jobs. By then, the immigrants had already settled in Europe indefinitely, had married or brought spouses and had children. "Decade in, decade out," Caldwell writes, "the sentiment of Western European publics, as measured by opinion polls, has been resolutely opposed to mass immigration. But that is the beginning, not the end of our story."

That story, in Caldwell's telling, focuses on the Muslim communities of Europe. The plot involves the physical isolation of rapidly growing numbers of Moroccans, Algerians, Tunisians, Turks, Pakistanis, Bangladeshis and Indians in suburban neighborhoods; high rates of crime and imprisonment; misogynistic practices and anti-Semitic confrontations; and general cultural tensions with mainstream society. The story's climax is the Muslim minority's "demands" for concessions to its religion, laws and customs. The other characters in this high drama are the "self-loathing" European elites, who are in love with the idea of a multicultural society and who close their eyes to any negativity because they feel they have to atone for centuries of colonialism.

However, Caldwell argues, "immigration is not enhancing or validating European culture; it is supplanting it." European Muslims, he warns, are having children at a rate unmatched by the secularized natives. As of 2005, there were approximately 5 million Muslims in France; 3 million in Germany; 1.6 million in Britain; 1 million in Spain; and fewer than 1 million in the Netherlands and in Italy. All told, Muslims account for about 5 percent of the total population of Western Europe; but that may be 5 percent too many, because in Caldwell's estimation, "if one abandons the idea that Western Europeans are rapacious and exploitative by nature, and that Africans, Asians, and other would-be immigrants are inevitably their victims, then the fundamental difference between colonization and labor migration ceases to be obvious."

The comparison between labor migrations of the past fifty years and colonization--the most memorable example of which, in recent history, is European colonialism in Africa and Asia--leaves out such details as invasions by armed troops; the systematic expropriation of land; the exploitation of natural resources to the sole benefit of the settlers; genocide, as happened to an estimated 10 million Congolese; wars of independence that cost millions of lives; and the installation of brutal dictatorships. Unbelievably, Caldwell insists that the immigration of individuals, each one acting independently and for economic or political reasons, not in obeisance to a collective supranational policy or religious mission, is nothing short of colonization.

To continue with Caldwell's story, the Muslims of Europe--and, naturally, the elites who enable them--have led each major European country to a national tragedy: the London underground bombing; the Madrid commuter train attacks; the Paris riots; the murder of Theo van Gogh in the Netherlands; and the cartoon crisis in Denmark. He concludes by sounding a pessimistic note on Europe's chances of winning this existential fight for its cultural survival. "Europe finds itself in a contest with Islam for the allegiance of its newcomers," he writes. "For now, Islam is the stronger party in that contest, in an obvious demographic way and in a less obvious philosophical way. In such circumstances, words like 'majority' and 'minority' mean little. When an insecure, malleable, relativistic culture meets a culture that is anchored, confident, and strengthened by common doctriness, it is generally the former that changes to suit the latter."

The assumption here is that Europe's culture was a rigid construct that remained unchanged until the immigrants arrived. But cultures are not static; they change all the time. Of course Europe's culture will change as a result of its demographic shifts, but that change need not (indeed, it should not) be turned into a culture war between Islam and the West. Caldwell's conclusion is also contradictory, coming as it does after 300 pages in which he has argued just the opposite: that Muslims are backward, unemployed, criminal and, until recently, disengaged from the political process. By the time he ends the book, they are suddenly and inexplicably strong enough to "conquer" Europe.

Reflections on the Revolution in Europe is the kind of book that will reaffirm the opinions of those who already agree with its author. If you happen to think that the establishment of what is now called "Eurabia" is a matter of time, you will find plenty of support in the many statistics and anecdotes Caldwell culls from newspaper and magazine reports. If, on the other hand, you prefer a more reasoned and complex view of the issues, the simplifications, contradictions and errors in this book will fail to persuade you. Caldwell repeats the thoroughly debunked canard that the 9/11 terrorist attacks were roundly celebrated in the Muslim world: "It was a day of joy in much of the Muslim world, including parts of Muslim Europe." On the contrary, there were demonstrations of solidarity with the families of the victims in nearly every major Muslim capital, from Rabat to Cairo to Tehran. More to the point, when the United States invaded Iraq, under the spurious claim that it possessed weapons of mass destruction and that Saddam Hussein had helped plot the 9/11 attacks, were the bombings not greeted with shouts of "U-S-A" in this country? That does not mean that the vast majority of Americans approved of the wholesale killing of hundreds of thousands of civilians. Simplifying the facts is expedient for Caldwell, however, as it helps bolster the argument he is trying to make, which is that Islam is locked in an inevitable and perpetual civilizational conflict with the West.

Although a large proportion of Europe's immigrants are not Muslim, and although the continent has faced serious economic, political and social challenges at various times over the past fifty years, European Muslims are held to blame for the rise in crime, violence against women, the resurgence of anti-Semitism and homegrown terrorism. For instance, Caldwell examines rates of incarceration in Europe, finds them proportionately higher for Muslims and attributes this finding to their religion and their culture, neither of which, in his view, equip them with the necessary tools for succeeding in the West. Missing from this grim assessment is the stubborn fact that Muslims are more likely than non-Muslims to be prosecuted for minor offenses. In France, where judges and prosecutors have large discretionary powers, noncitizens are significantly more likely to be forced into pretrial detention while their case is being investigated. The sociologist Devah Pager, who teaches at Princeton, also found a strong correlation between crime-control strategies in French local jurisdictions and the ethnic heterogeneity of these jurisdictions. To put it more plainly, crime is not policed in the same way for everyone. Researchers at the University of Utrecht in the Netherlands found a similar pattern; they recently published the result of a study showing that Moroccans sit in jail for lighter crimes than ethnic Dutch.

At no time was the question of crime in Muslim neighborhoods debated more hotly than in the fall of 2005, when the Parisian banlieues erupted in riots that lasted three weeks, leading then-President Chirac to declare a state of emergency. The riots were triggered by the deaths of two teenage boys, Zyed Benna and Bouna Traoré, who, while fleeing the police, hid in a power station and were electrocuted. Initially, Sarkozy, at the time Chirac's interior minister, claimed that the boys were suspected of robbery, but there was no solid evidence that they committed a crime--they had been playing soccer in a field when they saw police officers and fled to avoid a lengthy process of interrogation. In interviews after the riots, the people of the banlieues often described the teenagers' deaths as a spark but cited as fuel discrimination, isolation and joblessness. The banlieues are ghettos, and as James Baldwin once wrote, "To smash something is the ghetto's chronic need." Though Pascal Mailhos, the head of the French national intelligence services, flatly stated that religious beliefs played no part in the riots, several French politicians blamed, persistently and exclusively, Islam. So does Caldwell: "Even if they did not believe in Islam, they believed in Team Islam." The point here, I suppose, is that Muslims are acting collectively even when they tell you they're not.

Caldwell also suggests that Muslims are far more likely to commit violence against women. Under the heading "Virginity and violence," he writes that "there were forty-five [honor killings] in Germany alone in the first half of the decade." Since the argument here is that Muslims are more inclined to commit homicides against women in the context of "some trespass against sexual propriety," it would have been helpful if Caldwell had included, for the sake of contrast, the number of ethnic German women killed in incidents of domestic violence, as well as numbers for an entirely distinct and recent immigrant group, such as Eastern Europeans. Without such empirical comparisons, it is difficult to see how he can reach the conclusion he does, which is that "such acts make law. They assert sovereignty over a certain part of European territory for a different sexual regime." The label "honor killing" makes violence against women and girls sound like an exotic import rather than the pernicious and all-too-frequent reality that it is. Caldwell doesn't mention that domestic violence has been treated as a criminal problem in Europe thanks to the work of European feminists in the 1960s and '70s, and that now European Muslim feminists are working to create a similar zero-tolerance level about honor killings. Encouragingly, a recent Gallup study found that Muslims in Paris, Berlin and London disapproved of honor killings and crimes of passion about as much as the general French, German and British populations.

One of Caldwell's frequent arguments is that Europeans should be worried about the Islamization of their continent because Muslim women are having children in greater numbers than non-Muslims. As proof for this claim, he cites a working paper from the Vienna Institute of Demography. But recent studies show that birthrates among European Muslim women are declining sharply; for instance, the fertility rate in the Netherlands for Moroccan-born women fell from 4.9 to 2.9 between 1990 and 2005. Turkish-born women had 3.2 children in 1990 and 1.9 in 2005. Similar patterns have been observed in France and Germany. Martin Walker, a senior scholar at the Woodrow Wilson Center, points out that, "broadly speaking, birthrates among immigrants tend to rise or fall to the local statistical norm within two generations." Moreover, the Financial Times, the newspaper for which Caldwell is a columnist, recently published an article that belied all the alarmist claims about Muslim birthrates, concluding, "in short, Islamicisation--let alone sharia law--is not a demographic prospect for Europe."

The fundamental problem with Reflections on the Revolution in Europe is that Caldwell focuses exclusively on the problems with Muslim immigrants without stepping back to assess the general status of the European Muslim community. While he frequently denounces idleness, urban separation and crime by Muslims, he does not see fit to devote any space to the discrimination they face in employment, housing or the justice system, or the successes they have had in fields like science, sports, arts and entertainment. The French even have a term for this wave of young successful Muslims; they call it beurgeoisie. (The word beur is French slang for "North African.")

This flaw in Caldwell's approach is, unfortunately, entirely intentional. Reflections, he writes in his introduction, is a book about Europe, immigration and the place of Islam and Muslims in it, not "a book about the difficulties faced by immigrants and ethnic minorities." He stresses that he will use the term "native" to refer to those of European blood and "immigrant" to refer to those who are from outside Europe, even when they have been citizens of European countries for two or three generations. But by simplifying his terminology and focusing exclusively on the problems immigrants cause, not on those they face, Caldwell has tilted the scales: he does not present a complete view of the relationship between immigrant and native. On the rare occasions (I counted two) when he does mention discrimination, it is to minimize it: "There was certainly measurable discrimination in the European job and housing markets, although it was mild alongside what one might have found in the United States four decades ago." How easy it is to dismiss discrimination when one is not on the receiving end of it. But the statistics on job discrimination defy minimization: while 27 percent of beur university graduates are unemployed in France, the overall unemployment rate for university graduates is just 5 percent.

In effect, this lack of context mirrors the way Muslim immigrants (even those in second and third generations, or those who are probably Muslim in name only) are talked about in newspapers and magazines, on the radio and television: their religion is at the center of any discussion, as if the only thing that defines their political convictions, their votes, their relationship with their neighbors, with people of other religions or with members of the opposite sex is their ability to tell their nisab from their khums.

The thesis that only Islam is to blame for Muslims' supposed inability to assimilate in Europe is far too simplistic to stand the test of reality. In fact, it's just as simplistic as the argument peddled by the Muslim right wing, which is that Islam is the only cure for whatever ails Muslims. When one looks at Muslims on another continent (America, say) the pattern that Caldwell insists has been replicated throughout Europe (ghettoization, crime, violence against women, a resurgence of anti-Semitism, homegrown terrorism and demands for accommodation) does not obtain. In fact, income and education levels of Muslims in America mirror those of the general public. But save for two paragraphs, which appear ten pages before the end of the book, Caldwell avoids this comparison, presumably because it does not fit with his theory.

Caldwell does contrast Muslim immigration to Europe with Latin immigration to America. "The cultural peculiarities of Latin American immigrants," he argues, "are generally antiquated versions of American ones. Latinos have less money, higher labor-force participation, more authoritarian family structures, lower divorce rates, more frequent church attendance...lousier diets, and higher rates of military enlistment than native-born Americans." This, he says, makes Latino culture "perfectly intelligible to any patient American who has ever had a conversation about the past with his parents." But intelligibility did not prevent Glenn Beck from claiming that immigrants were "trying to conquer our culture" or Lou Dobbs from suggesting that the "invasion of illegal aliens" was responsible for a huge (and undocumented) rise in leprosy cases in the United States. The scholar Anouar Majid has cataloged many similarities between the treatment of Latino immigrants in the United States and Muslim immigrants in Europe in his book We Are All Moors. Ironically, Caldwell behaves much like a new convert to a religion: having found an ideology he agrees with, he looks only for the evidence that confirms his beliefs and disregards everything else.

Not surprisingly, Caldwell's assessment of Europe, like his assessment of European Muslims, leaves little room for nuance or complexity. He portrays the continent as a racially, culturally and politically homogenous place and its natives as extremely tolerant, respectful of human rights and largely secular. In his view, Europeans naïvely believed that Muslim workers who came after World War II would not stay. They welcomed the immigrants and muted their own concerns because they were afraid to be called racist. Caldwell makes the entire process of immigration seem like a giant hoax devious Muslims perpetrated on innocent Europeans. "European natives," he writes, "have become steadily less forthright, or more frightened, about expressing their opposition to immigration in public."

But the truth is that Europeans, particularly of the right-wing persuasion, have not been shy at all about opposing immigration. Anti-immigrant sentiment is as old as immigration itself, and Europe is no exception. Over the past few decades, immigration policy has repeatedly been a major theme of general elections in several European countries, including France, Italy and Spain. Still, the typical European one encounters in Reflections is ashamed of his country and unable to stand up to immigrants. Caldwell writes, rather preposterously, "The singing of national anthems and the waving of national flags became, in some countries, the province only of skinheads and soccer hooligans." Elsewhere, he argues that European natives have become so enamored with the idea of multiculturalism that they "know more about Arabic calligraphy and kente cloth" than they know about "Montaigne and Goethe." Of course, this is hyperbole. But strikingly, Caldwell does not wonder how much European Muslims, a great many of whom are graduates of European schools on the continent or outside it, know about these subjects.

While Caldwell blames Muslim immigrants for a range of problems, he reserves part of his scorn for "the spiritual tawdriness" of Europe--which, in his estimation, may be the "biggest liability in preserving its culture." The increasing secularization of Europe caused it to lose its bearings and gradually become vulnerable to "colonization" by "primitive" cultures. "Along the road of European modernization," he writes, "lie the shopping mall, the pierced navel, online gambling, a 50 percent divorce rate, and a high rate of anomie and self-loathing. What makes us so certain that that Europeanization is a road that immigrants will want to travel?" But in fact polls show that attitudes of European Muslims vary from country to country and often display the same regional differences seen among various European publics. For instance, Gallup polls show that Parisian Muslims are more likely than Muslims in Berlin or London to consider adultery "morally acceptable," a pattern that mirrors the larger proportions of native French who find adultery acceptable when compared with Britons or Germans.

For Caldwell, there is a quality of "Europeanness" that, on the one hand, is in danger of being lost because of the mass immigration of Muslims, and, on the other hand, is so idiosyncratic that it is not easily passed to new generations of European Muslims. He appears to suggest that this quality is innate: "[EU expansion] raised hopes that Western European labor needs could be filled by people who more or less thought like Europeans (say, maids from Hungary and machinists from Bulgaria) rather than people who did not (say, maids and machinists from Pakistan and Algeria)." The emphasis is his.

Caldwell argues that intra-European immigration had a higher degree of success because the immigrants who moved within Europe shared religious and cultural beliefs with the natives. Such an optimistic view leaves out inconvenient facts of history. In the early decades of the twentieth century, France brought thousands of Polish workers to its factories and its mines; many lived in suburban ghettos and, despite being Christian, were deemed by the natives to be too attached to their culture and too religious (they were referred to as calotins, or "Holy Joes"). Some French intellectuals and politicians began speaking of "invasion." (Similar accusations were made about Spaniards, Italians and Belgians who later migrated to France.) When the recession of the 1930s put a crunch on the French economy, the government forcibly put Polish immigrants on trains and sent them back home. So the process by which immigrants integrate in European societies has historically been a slow one, even when immigrants "think" like Europeans.

This undiscerning approach leads Caldwell to severe errors of judgment. It is exceedingly disturbing to find so many right-wing leaders receive one form or another of rehabilitation in Reflections. The British conservative politician Enoch Powell--who famously warned that if Britain didn't stop letting in nonwhite immigrants, it would soon be "foaming with much blood"--is described as "morally" wrong but "factually" right. Elsewhere, Caldwell decries the Dutch media's portrayal of the far-right leader Geert Wilders as a "paranoid and sinister bumpkin," while those who speak more conciliatorily about Islam are "spared ridicule." Wilders once compared the Koran with Mein Kampf and proposed that it be banned. This past September, he argued that a tax of 1,000 euros should be levied against Muslim women who wear a headscarf because they "pollute" the landscape.

Pim Fortuyn, the notorious Dutch far-right leader, "was not a racist," Caldwell informs us, "and his colorful repartee about the Moroccan men he had slept with was adequate to place him above the suspicion of being one." By the same logic, should one forget that Strom Thurmond supported racist laws just because he had a black child? Caldwell writes wistfully that "Fortuyn could well have become prime minister had he not been shot dead days before national elections in May 2002, by an animal rights activist who claimed to be acting to protect Dutch Muslims." Even though Muslims had nothing to do with Fortuyn's murder, this formulation suggests that, somehow, they did.

Not coincidentally, several of the loudest forecasters of European doom were previously best known for their anti-Semitic views. Nick Griffin, the leader of the British National Party, once called the Holocaust an "extremely profitable lie." Nowadays, he asks that Muslims be prevented from flying into or out of Britain and runs ads with the slogan Enoch Powell Was Right. Vlaams Belang, the Flemish far-right party, has also had Holocaust deniers in its leadership, though now they seem most preoccupied with preventing Muslim women who wear the headscarf from working for local councils. And Le Pen, the founder of the French National Front, once described gas chambers as "a mere detail of history" and called a political opponent named Michel Durafour "Durafour crématoire" (the pun can be loosely translated as "Michel-hard-to-cook-in-a-gas-chamber"). Now he warns that it is only a matter of time before the mayor of Marseille will no longer be Mr. Gaudin but Mr. "Ben Gaudin." Recently it emerged that the Vlaams Belang and other far-right groups have formed a coalition called "Cities Against Islamisation." Europe has gone down this road before, and it did not emerge the better for it.

The societies of Europe are undergoing demographic changes, which have economic, social and educational consequences. So far, the debate on these changes has focused exclusively on Islam in Europe. Yet no one in the chattering classes seems to have noticed that the voices of European Muslims are seldom heard. This is a debate about them--not with them. And indeed Reflections on the Revolution in Europe has been reviewed in the American press mostly by people who are not European, much less Muslim. Not surprisingly, the argument that Muslims are collectively trying to "conquer" Europe "street by street" in order to turn it into an outpost of Islam has been taken at face value. But this argument is not serious criticism because it is not based on thorough empirical evidence; it is racism.

When European Muslims are heard from, it is often on the topic of religion, and usually immediately after some disaster caused by one of their co-religionists. Political leaders, eager to show that they are in dialogue with the "immigrants" (large proportions of whom are second- or third-generation citizens), quote from the Koran or invite some imam to tea at the presidential palace. The conversation turns into a battle over religion, over who has the right interpretation of what verse, instead of being expanded to the issues most relevant to the integration of European Muslims--issues like jobs, housing, education and civil rights.

The current debate places far too much emphasis on Islam as a set of codes and on the Koran as a literal text, rather than on Islam as it is lived and the Koran as an experienced text. A Moroccan man may be very devout and yet work as a sommelier in a restaurant in Paris. A Turkish teenager may not be particularly faithful and yet keep Ramadan because it is the only time of year she gets to connect with her community. An Algerian elder may be the imam of his mosque and yet carry credit card debt. Islam is not just its texts; it is millions of people, each one of whom has found an idiosyncratic way of adapting faith to modern life. Our religious beliefs are not the sum total of our lives. To discuss them as if they were puts our very lives up for debate.

The challenge of immigration is not Europe's alone. In our increasingly globalized world, immigrants are moving in all directions, across large distances and at faster rates than ever before. What Europeans--what all of us--need to face is the unavoidability of living together. Caldwell has culled two tercets from W.H. Auden's "The Quest" as the epigraph for his book:

Could he forget a child's ambition to be old
And institutions where it learned to wash and lie,
He'd tell the truth for which he thinks himself too young,
That everywhere on his horizon, all the sky,
Is now, as always, only waiting to be told
To be his father's house and speak his mother tongue.

Yet when I read Reflections on the Revolution in Europe, I was reminded of another poem, one Auden had written a year earlier, at the onset of World War II; and though the poet came to look with disfavor on the line, its truth is the one I would rather cling to: "We must love one another or die."

About Laila Lalami

Laila Lalami, the author of Secret Son, is an assistant professor of creative writing at the University of California, Riverside

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