Look, I’ll be honest straight off the bat: I’ve never much liked politics. There, I admitted it, and I am not ashamed to have done so. Having said that, of course, I try to pay attention where necessary. And sometimes things will just jump out at you, interested or not. I totally understand why, in Australia, we seem to follow the US elections (including the primaries) with as much, if not more, interest than our own. We have good reason to care about the outcome, even if watching reruns of 90210 might seem more appealing than following a US election (not that I watch 90210, just saying. No, honestly.)
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For those residing in (or passing through) Sydney, it is well worth a visit to the NSW State Library for the World Press Photo exhibition before it closes on June 5. Entry is free and the exhibition displays a collection of award-winning photographs from around the globe. They are exceptional photos and viewing them should prove satisfying not only for those with an interest in photography but also for those who can appreciate the power of a single image.

It is a decidedly sombre collection which, I suppose, can be put down to the fact that our world is drowning more in sorrow than in joy. There are many memorable photographs, but I lingered at the Benazir Bhutto assassination photographs: you won’t see her after the attack, but the image of the dead — innocent onlookers, naked and charred from the explosion — will capture your attention like little else. It is incredibly moving.

Of course, the beauty of these photographs is that they are so educational without needing words and hours of reading time. It will remind you of how many varied stories there are to be heard, and just how fragile life is. From the 14-year-old victim of rape to the US soldier collapsing from exhaustion after a mission in Afghanistan. It’s easy to think, from a distance, that we understand what’s going on. Yet life is never so simple.

Phillip Coorey has a humorous op-ed in today’s Sydney Morning Herald about Kevin Rudd’s increasing — and unrestrained — use of acronyms. Hey, I’m all for the everyday FAQ, IOU, PS, ATM and ASAP. But there is a limit to how much we should invoke acronyms, particularly in conversation. Right? Not sure? See below.

Ever since Washington, where Rudd cooly dropped the acronym CSBM (confidence- and security-building measures) during an address to foreign policy wonks at the Brookings Institution, collecting examples of what Rudd calls “geek talk” has become a trip favourite.

At the NATO summit in Bucharest, where Rudd spoke of war in terms of establishing and measuring performance benchmarks, the ABC’s Louise Yaxley asked him whether the leaders had streamlined the rules of engagement that apply to the NATO soldiers.

“You mean RoEs,” said Rudd.

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A while back, I was an editorial assistant on a remarkable website called The Electronic Intifada. It focuses on the Palestinian-Israeli conflict, shedding light on what life is really like for those living under occupation. It’s professional, well-presented and has been around for years. The founders have worked tirelessly, attempting to restore the balance in media coverage. One of those founders is Nigel Parry, a multi-talented activist, who covered his experiences in Palestine in a compelling personal diary.

Nigel’s latest journal series is even more grim. In From Ramallah to Rikers, he shares with readers his agonising period of incarceration at Rikers Island, highlighting the devastating deficiencies in the US criminal justice system. It’s shocking and crushing to read — but it’s important.

There is a scene in The West Wing (a show I have belatedly grown to absolutely love for its sharp, intelligent and witty dialogue) where Charlie, President Bartlet’s assistant, gives him a gift: it’s a map of the Holy Land, from 1709. Bartlet, admiring the artwork and history behind it, wishes to display the map outside his office. He is told, emphatically, not to do so by his staff.

“It doesn’t recognise Israel”, says Toby. A perplexed Bartlet points out that it was drawn in 1709. “Israel wouldn’t happen for another 250 years,” he adds.

Toby agrees, but still says no to the map. “Some people are going to find it offensive.”

Bartlet asks why. “It doesn’t recognise Israel,” Toby repeats.

It’s an interesting scene. The dialogue is brief, but it says so much.

And it’s sort of strange that I first saw this in the same week our new PM Kevin Rudd made the fortuitous decision to mark and honour Israel’s 60-year occupation of Palestine — sorry, “statehood”. But this weekend, The Sydney Morning Herald’s Alan Ramsey considered the other side of the story.

When I first arrived at the Brisbane Convention and Exhibition Centre, I must confess that I was somewhat disappointed. Given the customary brouhaha preceding a Muslim academic’s (or scholar’s) arrival, I’d expected at the very least a picket (even if it consisted solely of the distinguished Ameer Ali).

You can imagine my further disappointment when the most controversial things Tariq Ramadan, the source of the controversy, said, would be more likely to offend some Muslim sensibilities than the non-Muslims in attendance. In fact, Ramadan, who is an incredibly engaging and charismatic speaker, presented his very sensible points softly but with clear conviction. There was absolutely nothing that might require monitoring by authorities.

Admittedly, the Brisbane conference on the “challenges and opportunities” of Islam in Australia was my first true introduction to Ramadan and his thesis. I understood the following: he is a “reformist”; he believes Muslims need to try harder to reconcile their beliefs with those surrounding them in their particular Western nation; he is dubbed Islam’s Martin Luther; he lacks mainstream appeal; he is more successful in Europe than Australia and the US.

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When you first pick up Unimagined, the most striking thing about it is the cover. It features the author, very young and somewhat debonair-looking in a suit. It is an unusual photo. But, somehow, it perfectly suits the book.

Unimagined is a series of memories penned by Imran Ahmad. He chronicles his life thus far, from his poor childhood (he’s the son of Pakistani immigrants) to the awkwardness of adolescence. It is, at times, humorous and heartwarming. There are moments of pathos. More remarkable is its authenticity: the ordinary things we pay little attention to are illuminated.

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There have been many so-called Muslim/Arab-related memoirs and non-fiction narratives over the years and rarely do they seem authentic. Conversely, in Girls of Riyadh we have a fiction book that appears really to be a collection of the author Rajaa Alsanea’s personal experiences and anecdotes, so thoroughly crammed is it with just about every event that could happen to a Saudi girl of privilege. For a book that wishes to illuminate a hidden world, it’s not highly unique nor greatly important; but we do gain some insight into just how similar women are regardless of culture and circumstances, and we also get an overall idea of how Alsanea perceives Saudi Arabia’s class system and demography.

Perhaps Alsanea’s story is loaded with truth, or maybe I’m just reading too much into it. I suppose I should have prefaced all of this with an admission that I am fairly unfamiliar with how Saudi men and women live and conduct themselves. My knowledge and understanding of the area is limited to what I read in various media as well as stories of foreign compounds told to me by friends who lived in Saudi for several years (and, I should add, completely loved it). But then of course, being of Arab heritage myself, I can certainly recognise similarities across the Middle East in ideas, traditions, culture, and of course, religion.

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The Sydney Morning Herald reports that residents of Camden (an area in Sydney’s south-west) are fiercely opposing a proposed Islamic school in the area. Apparently, census figures have the local population at 69% Christian and another 13% as “no religion”, so there would certainly be a question as to whether those wishing to build the school can justify the need for it.
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You might remember one of the most outrageous (and let’s be honest, totally juicy) literary hoaxes of recent times. Norma Khouri, con artist and, quite possibly, sociopath, was exposed as a “fake” in a Sydney Morning Herald series by journalists Malcolm Knox and Caroline Overington in 2004.

The scandal? Khouri claimed she was escaping danger in her homeland of Jordan after her best friend and business partner, Dalia, a Muslim (Khouri is Christian), was the victim of an honour killing. Her wildly successful “memoir”, Forbidden Love, detailed Dalia’s alleged romance with a Christian man. It was published as non-fiction — a tad inconvenient for her publisher because the book was all a lie. Khouri was in fact a US resident, a wife and mother of two, and apparently under investigation by the FBI for fraud.

Enter Australian documentary-maker Anna Broinowski (she won an AFI for her documentary, Helen’s War). She confesses that she was quickly won over by Khouri’s charm when she met her. Convinced that Khouri was the victim of a media witch hunt, she set out to make a documentary that would prove the veracity of Khouri’s claims that Forbidden Love was not fiction. Continue reading →