THE KING IS DEAD

Michael Jackson’s heart stopped beating last night. Michael Jackson is no longer with us. After being there for me throughout my entire life I must say I feel like I have lost someone close to my heart. His beats where the background music to my life, as far as I can remember Michael was there with me as I am sure he was there for many of you. Who can’t remember their jaws dropping after watching Thriller? Practicing the moonwalk for hours in front of the mirror? Asking everyone to Beat It and proclaiming to the world that we are Bad?

We have called Michael by many a name; sometimes we were kind and called him the ‘King’, other times we settled for ‘Wacko Jacko.’ After rocking to his music for years we were quick to judge his person. We witnessed his face deteriorate before our eyes, we gawked at him dangling his baby from a hotel balcony, we stood divided when he was on trial and were shocked to see his beloved Neverland Ranch being sold. Michael Jackson’s music brought worlds together, but he was a lonely man, one could even say a lonely child. I say that with conviction because when one is gifted enough to reach such heights, he will always remain there alone.

Nevertheless, today we should remember Michael Jackson for all the times he inspired us with his art and be forever grateful to him for shaping the face of music. We should keep dancing to his beats as long as we can in honour of his devotion to us, his fans. The King’s heart gave out last night and tragically, all the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put MJ together again. Farewell Michael you were gone to soon.

This piece was published in The Gulf Today Newspaper on June 27, 2009.

Political Prophet

The name George Orwell is synonymous with political criticism owing to his two uber famous novels: the satirical Animal Farm and the dystopian Nineteen Eighty-Four. He was a journalist, a literary critic, and a Democratic socialist who loathed totalitarianism and was not afraid to say it. He believed that nothing is mightier than the word and that language, when used right can be the most powerful weapon against mankind.

His immense contribution to the English language continues to inspire and school writers. What young writer has not come across Orwell’s six rules of effective writing, used them and never looked back? I sure have. The lexicon he developed for his novel Nineteen Eighty-Four has entered the English language and become a part of our everyday speech. It is said that Orwell was the first to use the term ‘cold war’ in his essay You and the Atomic Bomb.

Eric Arthur Blair’s persona was quite the opposite of what his books and essays portrayed. His alter ego, the one he named George Orwell and unleashed onto the world was the most outspoken critic of the Second World War. Who believed in bringing the truth to the people no matter how harsh it may be and set out to do it. But the person behind this tough, injustice-fighting machine was a shy man. Eric Arthur Blair was a man who although spent most of his short-lived life fighting for the common man he didn’t really mix with any and always kept to himself.

He contracted tuberculosis, which forced him to write from the confinement of his hospital room. The most vivid memory the hospital staff recall of Orwell is the sound of typewriter keys resonating in the hallways all through the night. While his body was fighting for survival, his mind was engaged in an image of the future. A bleak image that he managed to paint using innovative word choice and unparalleled imagination. At first glance Nineteen Eighty-Four may seem like a science fiction novel but the political satire and Orwell’s message to future generations is unmistakable. Although it was published in 1949 many of its elements are still relevant to this day, people take head of growing government powers for you will be the ultimate sacrifice.

Orwell wrote from a hospital bed, Blair got married in one. Two very different people living in the same body. This body took its last breath on the 21st of January 1950. One soul lives on through its passionate, influential work and the other lives on in the heart of the son it left behind. And although Orwell was gone too the tombstone carries an epitaph that simply reads: "Here lies Eric Arthur Blair, born 25 June 1903, died 21 January 1950" as if to say he never really left us.

This piece was published in The Gulf Today Newspaper on June 27, 2009.

Killing for Honour, Honoured for Killing

“This is the only way to win back his so-called honour for she is now a stain that can only be cleansed by death.”

Agony thy name is woman. A sentence that commanded my attention as a 16-year-old. I had no real background knowledge or experiences to speak of that would lead me to believe in such a bold and definite sentence. Yet after stumbling across it through the pages I carefully cut it out and pinned it on the already busy board above my desk.

Women have forever been viewed as the Other: the other sex, the other half, the other option. Always the next best thing, always another part of. Yes indeed we have come far as women from the dark ages of silence, suffering and self-blame. We have broken through and taken our rightful role in society. But when I write the word ‘we’ I hesitate, because ‘we’ is all- encompassing. And that would not be fair to the thousands of women around the world who are still forced to dwell in the darkest of ages that we lucky ones have left behind.
It is hard to imagine that even today while many of us go about our lives freely, hundreds of women cannot fathom the concept of being free. Bound, gagged and suffocating from the cruel societal chains they fight for survival on a daily basis, some succumbing to it, others rebelling against it and paying for it with their lives.

The rusty metal links that make up these chains are many, but one in particular has shaken me to the core and continues to do so every time I come across an image of it reflected in the news. It is the horrific crime that seems to be accepted among many Arab societies, conveniently coined ‘honour killing.’ This must be the most contradictory term I have ever come across for what is honourable about cold-blooded murder? Just like the heinous crime the term itself is gravely flawed.

Honour killings allow families to murder any member of their family who they feel has dishonoured them one way or another. And although this definition constitutes any member interestingly enough it is only practiced on female members. Since the dishonourable conduct is not clearly specified the women could be hunted down and murdered for as petty a reason as refusing a marriage arrangement.

Countries like Jordan, Iraq, Egypt, Turkey and Pakistan see an outstanding number of murdered women as a result of these honour killings. Since many of the crimes are
concealed by the entire family there is no way of acquiring clear statistics. But the United Nations Population Fund (UNFPA) estimates that more than 200 women are murdered yearly in Turkey, over 1000 in Pakistan and gives a total of 5000 women lost worldwide. Tragically, these witch hunts go unpunished because the law books in these countries do not view them as crimes. Basically, the law allows people to act as judge, jury and executioner and is prepared to cast a blind eye no matter how harsh their punishment might be.

In Jordan the law justifies honour killings. Article 340 of its Penal Code states “he who discovers his wife or one of his female relatives committing adultery and kills, wounds, or injures one of them, is exempted from any penalty.” Queen Noor and Queen Rania of Jordan have been fighting to amend this law for years and although it has been put forward it was refused twice by the Lower House of Parliament. Shockingly the law is somewhat similar in over 60 countries in the Middle East, Africa, Asia and Latin America.

The West has spoken volumes about these crimes always emphasising that it is a problem which occurs solely in countries governed by Islam. Failing to mention that any law which is interpreted to allow men to kill female relatives in a premeditated effort, crime of passion or in flagrante delicto in the act of committing adultery actually exists in the Napoleonic code (French civil code).

Brazil and Columbia are two non-Muslim countries that considered honour killings noncriminal until the 1990s. It is ironic how when this crime is executed by a Muslim it is named ‘honour killing’ and when the same crime is committed by a non-Muslim it is a ‘crime of passion,’ terminology does make all the difference after all.

This is not Islam’s creed. When Prophet Mohammad (PBUH) was approached by a man who suspected his wife’s infidelity, he asked him to procure three additional eye-witnesses to her act before the public authority could judge her. Otherwise, the husband would be lashed for making such an accusation. Being able to find four eye-witnesses to such a matter is near-impossible. Therefore, the evidentiary requirements for conviction are actually there to ensure that punishment will virtually never be carried out.

This is not about religion. This dilemma arises from the concept of shame. Sociology defines it as a family of emotions that arise from viewing the self negatively through the eyes of others. Therefore, it is this fear of judgement that pushes men to murder. A father cannot bear the idea of people viewing him negatively if they found out about his daughter’s disobedience. That heavy sense of self-loathing is enough to make him drive a knife into the flesh that he himself has raised and nurtured. To him this is the only way to win back his so-called honour for she is now a stain that can only be cleansed by death.

This sense of shame is rooted in tribal cultures. Honour killings are one of the many tribal understandings that pre-date Islam and Christianity together. It is as ancient a concept as the crimes of female infanticides. While the former is now extinct, the latter has somehow managed surviving to this day.

This gendercide must be tackled by a revision of all laws. Killing is killing and placing the word ‘honour’ in front of it should never be justification enough for allowing its escalation.

On September 2nd 2008 in Pakistan Hameeda was taken to the desert beaten, shot at and buried alive for wanting to choose the man she was to marry. She was 18 years old.

Banaz Mahmod, 20 years old, disappeared from her home in south London, two years later her body was found stuffed in a suitcase murdered by her father and uncle. Her only crime was standing up to her father’s daily beatings.

Shawbo Ali Rauf, a 19-year-old Iraqi girl, was shot seven times by her in-laws for having an unknown number on her cell phone.

At a time when the world is exhausting all its resources to fight problems like swine flu it seems oblivious to this ongoing gendercide. How can we justify this to Hameeda, Banaz, and Shawbo?
I can’t... can you?

This article was published in The Gulf Today Newspaper on May 22, 2009.

Who Killed The Femme Fatale?

"Picking up a self-help book entitled 10 Easy Steps To Make A Man Fall in Love With You will by no means transform any average woman into a femme fatale”

A couple of nights ago while aimlessly flipping through the channels I came across a scene that suspended my finger in mid-air preventing it from landing once more on the eager remote control button. It was Sharon Stone dressed in red, complete with red nail-polish and red stilettos, blonde hair slicked back, smoking a cigarette. The movie was Diabolique from 1996. I remember seeing it when it first came out, but considering that more than 10 years have passed since, I decided to watch it again with an older, wiser, more critical pair of eyes and laid the remote-control to a well-deserved rest.

For those who haven’t seen Diabolique here is my brief description: it is a remake of a French film noir named Les Diaboliques meaning ‘The Devils.’ Set in an all-boys boarding school the plot revolves around a love triangle, the three sides of which are the husband and head-master played by Chazz Paliminteri, the ex-nun and wife played by Isabella Adjani, and the sultry mistress and teacher played by none other than Sharon Stone. After having had enough of Paliminteri's abusive character the two women devise a plan to murder him. After thinking they have actually gotten away with it the body disappears and suspicious events start to occur.

I will stop right there because I do not intend on giving away the ending and also the plot is not really what this article is about. What caught my interest was the role that Sharon Stone was playing. Her character conveniently named ‘Nicole Horner’ is that of the cunning, seductively beautiful and sexually forthright woman. She speaks softly, charms her way through man, woman and child, doesn’t take no for an answer and wherever she goes the trail of cigarette smoke follows. Nicole Horner is the classic Hollywood Femme Fatale.

The femme fatale made her appearance in Hollywood in the 1940s in the period where studios were churning out murder mysteries by the dozen. Femme fatale is French for ‘deadly woman’ and just like the word, the character was also conceived in France. The character was created to rebel against the typical-female roles of the time. She was fashioned to be the antithesis of the wholesome woman. Confident, cunning, seductive and adamant on getting what she wants regardless of the consequences. A black widow who does not succumb to societal roles and although threatening to the male psyche, she is absolutely irresistible to him. At the time of her introduction to the world it was liberating for women everywhere to witness such a strong female unabashedly appearing on the silver screen.

Actresses like Anna Savage in Apology for Murder (1945), Rita Hayworth as The Lady of Shanghai (1948), Marilyn Monroe in Niagara (1953) and throughout the 90s Sharon Stone in movies such as Basic Instinct and Diabolique, have introduced and immortalised the image of the femme fatale in cinema. But it pretty much stops there.

The femme fatale has lost her way and has not been seen since. Of course there were and still are many strong female characters in cinema but not quite the femme fatale, not portrayed in all her heavily made-up glory. So where did she go? She was a fantasy that was created to accommodate for a need, she was taboo but that’s just it, she was. The fantasy has become a reality. The femme fatale no longer appears because we no longer need her. The industry might be under the impression that with the likes of Oprah, Madonna and Carla Bruni the world has seen its share of powerful women. There is no mysterious aura about them and as far as I know they don’t even smoke therefore the femme fatale is nothing but an urban legend.

When sex-appeal is being marketed to a target demographic made up of 16 year old boys the package will surely include a cheerleader, a Chihuahua and a hackneyed plot. No mystery, no intrigue, hell not even a hint of the ever alluring smoke. Or maybe, nowadays every woman walks around believing that by showing a bit of flesh she too is a femme fatale? Picking up a self-help book entitled 10 Easy Steps To Make A Man Fall in Love With You will by no means transform any average woman into a femme fatale. Perhaps the only ones to gain from such books are the authors themselves.

The femme fatale has an innate passion and drive and exudes an aura that cannot be learned in 10 steps or even 100, simply because it cannot be taught. Her weapons are her's alone and whether or not I agree with the way she uses them, I have much respect for her presence and will. Because if indeed a man used her same weapons we would label him ambitious, driven and view him in a less darker light than we do our femme fatale. Femme fatale must make a comeback because although women today can achieve what they desire using more direct methods, the world is a less exciting place without her. Therefore, this piece is dedicated to the blonde hair, the red lipstick, the husky voice and the fading flicker of a cigarette.

This article was published in The Gulf Today newspaper on May 1, 2009.

Facebook Junkie

"I am starting to feel like I have had a long and overbearing relationship with over a hundred people and counting."

The ‘Communication Era’ is what we have happily dubbed the times we live in. After being the most cumbersome, near-impossible feat for mankind it has now become one of the most mundane daily activities for us to communicate with one another. After tiny letters sent on the heels of doves, after men traveling through treacherous terrain and Graham Bell’s joy at hearing a voice in the other room answer his call. We now have it all at a click of a button, no sense of accomplishment included. You know the lot; emails, video-calling, and our latest cyber drug social-networking sites. They come in the form of Facebook, Twitter, Myspace and many more I dare not list in fear of losing you right here.

I would like to interject right now by stating that I am indeed a recovering Facebook addict. You may sneer at the word ‘addict’ but I do not use it lightly or even for dramatic effect. I have actually experienced all the stages and shown all the signs of a proper addiction. A couple of years back I curiously started using, which led to abusing and eventually heavily depending on and being purely addicted to what I call the ‘Peeping Tom’ networking site.

These sites are meant for reconnection, but what do we really use them for once we have connected with all the random and not so random faces from our past? At first it felt like the high-school reunion from hell. You mentally prepared yourself and became excited at the thought of seeing how the years have treated these people. You polished your profile and made sure it looks presentable and if possible, impressive. Later came the feeling of being obligated to accept ‘friend requests’, people ‘poking’ you and readily answering a barrage of questions about your life. Overwhelming I know, not to mention feeling a tad creepy after going through your friends’ photo albums and acquiring complete knowledge of their daily activities scrolling through their ‘status updates’. I might be somewhat old-fashioned but aren’t personal photos supposed to be conveniently saved on your hard-drive or safely tucked away in a box somewhere for you to sift through on a day when you feel life is just not worth it?

Updating your status seems to be a competition for the Facebook junkie, always looking for the best sentence to make his name pop on someone’s list. So basically a lonely drive can end up morphing into, a relaxing cruise and a boring stay at home into a well-deserved rest, on one’s status. Since when have we become so ready to divulge every detail of our lives and document every movement we make? A Facebook junkie would happily update his status every couple of hours, telling me, a person who really doesn’t care that they have ‘just woken up’, an hour or so later ‘had breakfast’, next ‘off to work’ and before you know it you have become so accustomed to this person’s routine you feel you could write their status for them. Status updates are not confined only to the user’s movements though, some are just mere facts of which my favourite are the weather updates. When all else fails mention the weather, it is a sure-fire when used in conversations why not Facebook? Status goes something like this ‘it’s raining’, it’s windy’, ‘it’s sunny’ dear God we can look out the windows ourselves!

Some people have actually surpassed the term Facebook junkie reaching a whole new level of insanity that I am afraid they cannot recover from. These people found in Facebook the means to live a life outside their own using the virtual photo albums as proof of their so-called self. Photo albums on Facebook have transformed into virtual shopping lists and restaurant menus. If they see an item they want they snap a shot and it’s posted on their page, thereby enforcing their style and earning the right to be called ‘trendy’. What is even more mind-boggling is the sheer amount of comments and responses these photos get, all praise of course, but who are you actually praising? The designer who made these products? Because the person who posted a photo of the item cannot really be praised for just posting right? Apparently they can. Facebook albums are void of faces yet full of Hermes, Graff, and many, many plates of food.

People are living lifestyles so far from their true identities it is actually frightening. Why do they feel the urge to keep others informed? Is it because they seek validation? Long for a connection? Or just because it is easy to do so? If information is indeed power, then aren’t we providing it to random people by readily updating every move we make and every desire we long for?

This over-share of information erases the curiosity shrouding people’s lives and in turn eliminates the mystery. I am starting to feel like I have had a long and overbearing relationship with over a hundred people and counting. They are with me all the time and although I haven’t seen their actual faces or been in their presence for years I am starting to feel somewhat crowded. I feel like we should take a break and allow each other some space. You see, it’s not you, it’s me. I just cannot handle knowing your every move and complimenting you on your folders of shopping, so let us take a breather for a while. And if you would allow me one last piece of advice, please, please leave the weather to the weatherman.

This article was published in The Gulf Today newspaper on April 18, 2009.

Beneath The River Ous

A few weeks ago I was lucky enough to have purchased a first-edition copy of Virginia Woolf’s novel The Voyage Out. It need not be said that I am a fan of Virginia Woolf and an avid collector of her works. Holding the book in my hands right now, feeling its frayed spine, flipping ever so gently through its aging pages and taking in its musty smell I am slowly slipping back in time to the events of this very day sixty-eight years ago, when one of our greatest literary minds chose to drown itself in the cold waters of the River Ous.

Virginia Woolf, daughter of Sir Leslie Stephen, wife of Leonard Woolf, passionate friend of Vita-Sackville-West, avid feminist, one of the most influential writers of the modernist movement and founder of the Hogarth Press, would not allow her madness to swallow her whole. After penning two letters, one to her idolizing husband Leonard and the other to her beloved sister Vanessa she walked out of her house, filled her pockets with stones and gave herself to the waters. Virginia Woolf’s limp, lifeless body was to be found eighteen days later by a group of children.

Virginia Woolf had an overzealous habit of jotting down every detail of her day; she insisted that every woman should write about her day for there is a treasure in every movement. She believed that every part of the day need not be wasted or forgotten and she was right. Owing to this almost obsessive habit, Virginia left behind a life-time worth of diary entries that were later compiled into five volumes which now serve as out gateway to her life, love and madness.
This wealth of detail led to the analysis and over-analysis of every aspect of Virginia’s life. Critics devoured Woolf’s diaries and personal letters hoping to make rhyme and reason of everything she did, everything she said and every word she penned. They dissected every part of her life from her mental state to her eating habits. If Virginia Woolf were alive today the critics would be her paparazzi and every detail of her life would be published in tabloids and posted on websites.

To the literary world Virginia Woolf’s life and loves have come to over-shadow her work. She was a devoted writer who lived her entire life for the craft. She was an artist forever seeking perfection. She dwelled on every sentence, in the confinement of her room among tons of scrapped papers; she recited each one out loud. One of which is the opening sentence in her novel Mrs. Dalloway: “Mrs. Dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself”. A single sentence such as this one may have taken days from her life, years from her sanity and brought her ever so closer to the River Ous.

Everything that is to be said about Virginia Woolf has been said. Many have criticized her personality and neglected her work, many poured over her work and neglected her person, inspirations and passion. Nevertheless, all of them agreed on one thing, that Virginia Woolf had an undeniable effect on the literary world and an uncompromising hold on every person who has read any of her works. She has laid the foundation for the ‘stream of consciousness’ technique that many have failed to emulate. Although she is categorized as a feminist (what that word means nowadays I have no idea) she believed in ‘fortifying’ the difference between men and women and in blurring the lines that separate them, for only then will each come into his own.

Virginia was convinced that the mind should be androgynous in order to be able to write freely and passionately. Her ultimate aim in life was to express the necessity for female writers to find a sentence, just a single sentence that describes them, and not succumb to borrowing the male sentence that they have been exposed to since the creation of the word. Virginia searched for this very sentence all her life, who knows maybe she found it on this day sixty-eight years ago beneath the icy waters of the River Ous.

This piece was published in The Gulf Today newspaper on March 28, 2009. On Virginia Woolf's 68th death anniversary.

Dubai The Curse of The Auspicious

"I do not know whether Geraldine Bedell's book The Gulf Between Us was excluded because of its content or because of the horrible pun in its title, but I know for sure that there is more to the title than meets the discerning eye."

It is a fact that with undeniable success comes heavy scrutiny, but with the recent flood of tarnishing publicity and the Western media's constant probing of Dubai it has become evident that the intentions behind the accusatory tone of the press are both malicious and vindictive. It is also common knowledge that Dubai has comfortably taken its place among the greatest cities in the world and at an unprecedented pace. Dubai has gladly opened its doors to people from all walks of life, it has offered avid opportunities for many seeking career advancement and homes to those seeking stability and security. Dubai’s astounding achievements have stunned the Western media into submission, but that state of shock has clearly worn out. As of late all that is written about Dubai is nothing, but a slew of selective negatives, a so-called revelation on a need-to-expose basis.

The first bout of that coverage spurred from the amount of construction sites in Dubai, the media latched onto the “inhumane” labour camps. No matter what the issue the Western press seems to bring Islam into it one way or another. The BBC News published an article on the worker camps in Dubai with this opening sentence:

“There are two sounds you cannot escape in Dubai: the call to prayer ringing out from the city’s mosques five times a day and the 24-hour clunking and grinding of construction.”

What the sound of prayers has to do with labour camps is beyond me, but it is there in black and white. Failing to mention that Dubai has provided thousands of jobs for otherwise poor, desperate workers, they went on and on about the working hours and the camp conditions. The living condition details were highly exaggerated and as for working hours, the fact is the workers follow scheduled shifts that are well within reason and general rules. On the other hand, there are many Western companies that have benefited and are still benefiting from exploiting children in Asia utilising sweatshops to produce their tons of merchandise. That is all well just as long as it doesn’t happen on their soil I guess.

The second wave resulted from an incident where a British couple was found frolicking and engaging in sexual activities on a public beach in Dubai. They were arrested and taken through the proper procedures of the UAE’s legal system. Surprisingly, the British press pounced on the story and made a huge capital by painting a picture of how horrific and unjust UAE’s legal system is, mocking the religious, moral and societal beliefs of the country. Conveniently ignoring the fact that their very own British law on sex clearly states that:
“Consenting adults will be allowed to have sex at home with the curtains open but will face jail sentences of up to six months for making love in the back garden” (The Independent).
Their own back garden let alone a public beach in a Muslim country which proudly cherishes its proven traditions.

The third addition to the ongoing tsunami came in the form of protests against Dubai’s refusal in granting the Israeli female tennis player Shahar Peer, who also serves as an administrative secretary in the Israeli military, entry into the country. The media took it upon itself to label it an anti-Semitic act against Peer claiming that Dubai was taking a political stance on a professional tennis player, when in reality it was not so. The UAE has granted Andy Ram, an Israeli tennis player entry, under a “special permit” granted after the allowance of time for the necessary procedures to be taken. The UAE does not have any diplomatic relations with Israel, therefore, it is understandable that the entry of an Israeli would take time to be processed. This would also be the case for a Muslim holding an Israeli citizenship, and in Shahar Peer’s case the time was simply inadequate. But even under such an assumption as the one taken by the Western media wouldn’t the UAE government be completely justified in reinforcing its political position even if it were in the name of sports? Do they not have the right to refuse the fluttering of the Israeli flag on their soil when only a month ago Israel was well into a meaningless war on Gaza that left 1300 Palestinians dead?

Having not yet recovered from the tennis debacle Dubai is once again being forced to defend itself against the Western media after the recent exclusion of a novel from The Emirates Airline International Festival of Literature. The romantic work of fiction by an up-and-coming British writer Geraldine Bedell features the character of a homosexual sheikh. The press spun the story claiming that the country’s Islamic beliefs are stifling creativity with its censorship. This in turn forced Canadian Booker-prize winner and vice-president of the writer’s group International PEN Margaret Atwood to withdraw only a week before the festival was to begin. Atwood pulled out of the festival as a reaction to the onslaught of media that followed the festival organiser Isobel Abulhoul's decision to exclude the book and immediately posted a letter on her website stating the reasons for her withdrawal.

The chaos and outrageous media outpouring became highly contagious affecting other writers listed to participate in the festival and threats of withdrawal were made before the event organisers had a chance to clarify their position. Once Abulhoul had the chance to explain the situation it became clear to Atwood and the rest of the writers that the book was not considered for the festival because the slots provided are given to more well-known authors.
This is well within their rights as festival organisers and such rejections are done in every festival around the world. Atwood herself spoke candidly to The Guardian about her hasty reaction saying “The little golden time bomb of a refusal-with-reasons was carefully guarded by someone – who? – until now, when it was hurled into the press to great publicity effect, easily stampeding people like me.” Atwood has nowagreed to attend the festival via video link-up to make up for the misunderstanding.
Books are banned and censored for many reasons. Canada for example considers hate literature illegal, and every country is free to set its own standards according to its cultural fabric. It is clear that Geraldine Bedell was upset at the refusal of her book, took advantage of Abulhoul’s honesty and cashed in on her five minutes of fame. I do not know whether Bedell’s book The Gulf Between Us was excluded because of its content or because of the horrible pun in its title? It is quite an expected reaction that the media would make an issue out of the exclusion because it deals with homosexuality accusing Dubai of intolerance and bigotry. When on the other end of the spectrum ideals are not so different, in the United States' 2008 elections the California ballot Proposition 8, which eliminates same-sex couple’s right to marry, was passed and readily implemented. This cements the fact that no matter how open-minded the West may seem, sugar-coating their words and hiding behind their political correctness, their ideals are as reserved as ours, if not even more so.

One might argue that the media's sole purpose of existence is to report on such issues regardless of the implications and I would undoubtedly agree, but the truth is we do not report for the sake of reporting. We have a responsibility to report the truth and when the truth looks to be somewhat unattainable we must unearth it. Implications or not we must reveal both sides of the coin showing heads for heads and tails for tails. It is a shame that a country such as the UAE and a city such as Dubai that have come so far in so little time be judged so harshly and so unjustly by the Western media. Political agendas, no matter how powerful, should not taint journalism because once that happens, then our voices become their echos and our words become their weapons of mass destruction.

This article was published in The Gulf Today newspaper on February 27, 2009.