Tag: North Africa

Life in Libya: The good, the bad and the ugly

Don’t believe everything you read, the old adage goes. In the case of post-revolution Libya, that cannot be truer. Dramatic headlines of civil war, chaos and a failed state are just that: dramatic. I know this to be the case because in a series of crazy and adventurous events, I left my comfortable western life to see how I could make a change in my ancestral homeland.

Since 2004 I’ve been coming to Libya for short summer visits. My father left the country in the late 70s in open and active opposition to the Gaddafi regime, so we weren’t raised with extended family. I enjoyed getting to know them during these trips.

But after two months of North African hospitality, I could not wait to get back to my convenient and consumerist lifestyle in the States. It was a novelty to pick fresh almonds, use tree branches to sweep the floor and milk goats, but I kept thinking about what I would do the moment I was home: get a pedicure and make a Taco Bell run.

Something changed in the summer of 2012. I came to post-revolution Libya and fell in love. It wasn’t with a handsome boy with a dashing smile. It wasn’t a summer fling. I fell in love with the revolution street art; with children making the peace sign as they hung out of car windows; with the protests of people unhappy with the government; with the billboards memorialising our fallen heroes. I fell in the love with the excitement, freedom, and carefree feeling in the air. I fell in love with Libya. And for the first time, I actually imagined moving here.

A Libyan girl in traditional tribal costume flashes the V-sign for victory as families parade in their cars through the streets of Tripoli in celebration on February 16 2012, the eve of the first anniversary of the revolt against Muammar Gaddafi. (AFP)
A Libyan girl in traditional tribal costume flashes the V-sign for victory as families parade in their cars through the streets of Tripoli in celebration on February 16 2012, the eve of the first anniversary of the revolt against Muammar Gaddafi. (AFP)

My decision shocked me and everyone who knew me. I am a Walmart-going, interstate-driving, ridiculously large-sized diet-Coke-drinking, Kentucky Basketball-supporting, rap music-listening, preamble-memorising American. I’m the product of the American Dream, of immigrant parents who fled their homeland to give their children freedom, education and a bright future, yet I grew up with a deep-rooted love for Libya. Of course, the promises of “going home” once Gaddafi died or was overthrown were repeated continuously in our home but I didn’t give it much thought. I was just a kid then. Later, I figured that this tyrant wasn’t going anywhere after 40 years and I wasn’t inclined to give up Netflix even if he did. So when I came to Libya last year, fell in love and found a job that would keep me here, it took a small push and a big leap of faith to say yes.

I’ve been in Tripoli for almost seven months now and, as with all situations, I’ve found the good, the bad and the ugly. The good: I no longer worry about gas prices. At a cool 15 Libyan cents per litre, I can fill up my car for the equivalent of 3.75 US dollars. The bad: Because fuel is so cheap, everyone is on the roads and there’s always traffic. The ugly: There are no traffic laws here so if someone hits you, odds are you’re not going to be compensated.

Living in Libya has made me more flexible. There are no one-stop shops with all my needs. I might not find brown sugar and people will cut in line at check-out, but gentlemen rush to help with heavy items or insist on loading my groceries. I’ve realised how much of superfluous stuff there was in my life – who needs a mini pocket iron? I have become Libya’s pioneer woman. If I want Mexican food, I hunt down avocados, I make sour cream, and I chop my tomatoes for salsa. It’s been in a lesson in humility and character-building.

I’ve also realised how very normal my life here is. I wake up in the morning, brew my coffee, sit in traffic yelling at the idiot in front of me, get to my office and rush in, pretending I’m not late. I help my customers, reply to email requests, laugh with coworkers at the water cooler, and come home exhausted. I eat dinner with my feet up on the couch and hit the sack – only to do it all again the next day. True, my social life isn’t what it used to be – there isn’t a cinema or big shopping malls. I spend Friday nights at local cafés with friends, enjoying  great conversation, strong espresso and Tripoli’s latest craze: Cinnabon. I have beach days on the beautiful Mediterranean shore and I can tell you where the best Indian food in all of Libya is.

Libyans cool off at the seaside with the onset of summer and high temperatures in Tripoli on June 9 2013. (AFP)
Libyans cool off at the seaside on June 9 2013. (AFP)

Yes, I may hear the occasional 14.5mm round go off, but it has become my Libyan white noise. Life in Libya is carrying on, it’s business as usual. Bakeries are filled with delicious soft bread, cafés buzz with their loyal caffeine- and nicotine-addicted patrons, vegetable stands are filled and shopkeepers are bringing in the latest styles (skinny jeans and flats are all the rage). There isn’t a week that goes by when I don’t stand back and say: “I can’t believe this is Libya.”

Articles and analyses by “experts” portray Libya on a broken, dangerous, and dead-end path. But these writers are not here. They don’t see kids running happily to school with new books and uniforms. They don’t see the policemen who’ve just recently graduated guarding our neighborhoods. They don’t discuss the grassroots initiatives that clean up the streets.

Libya might make my OCD tendencies flare up and stores may not have my favorite balsamic dressing, but this country has given me an opportunity to grow personally and professionally. It’s the land of my father and the place I now call home.

Assia Amry is a Libyan-American and a graduate of political science and international relations. She currently lives in Tripoli. Follow her on Twitter.

In Pictures: Egypt #June30 protests

In protests reminiscent of the revolution that toppled Hosni Mubarak in 2011, millions of Egyptians took to the streets on Sunday, this time calling for Mohamed Morsi – the country’s first democratically elected president – to resign.

Morsi’s first year in office has been anything but smooth, with opposition activists who supported him during the 2011 revolution now against him for championing the Muslim Brotherhood’s interests over democracy. He has also come under fire for his Cabinet appointments, judicial independence, women’s and religious rights, and his failure to tackle the country’s economic crisis.

The increasing unhappiness with Morsi’s leadership has fuelled a number of protests in Egypt – and his opponents have even tried to send him to outer space.

His supporters, however, are adamant he should be allowed to complete his term which ends in 2016, and say they will not allow a “coup”.

The opposition movement behind Sunday’s protests, Tamarod (Arabic for ‘rebellion’), has given Morsi until Tuesday 5pm to quit, threatening a civil disobedience campaign if he doesn’t.

Anti- and pro-Morsi groups clashed during yesterday’s protests, which is being billed as the largest in history. The young and old, nuns and dogs camped out (a few brought their sofas) across the country. Some spent the night, saying they’ll remain there until Morsi steps down. – AFP, Reuters, M&G

Follow the #June30 and #Egypt hashtags on Twitter, which is abuzz with live updates and photos from protest sites.

Protesters are seen on Monday morning in Tahrir Square in Cairo, where they camped out for the night. (Reuters)
Protesters are seen on Monday morning in Tahrir Square in Cairo, where they camped out for the night. (Reuters)
Some Morsi opponents calling for his ouster sleep outside the presidential palace in Cairo. (AFP)
Anti-government demonstrators calling for Morsi’s resignation sleep outside the presidential palace in Cairo on Sunday night. (AFP)

 

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The crowd in Tahrir Square, Cairo on June 30. (Reuters)
The crowd in Tahrir Square, Cairo on June 30. (Reuters)
Opponents of President Morsi shout slogans while holding a giant Egyptian flag outside the presidential palace in Cairo. (AFP)
Opponents of President Morsi shout slogans while holding a giant Egyptian flag outside the presidential palace in Cairo. (AFP)
Women protest against Mohamed Morsi outside the presidential palace. (AP)
Women protest against Mohamed Morsi outside the presidential palace. (AP)
Supporters of President Morsi in their protective gear as they prepare to protect the presidential palace in Nasser City, Cairo. (AFP)
Supporters of President Morsi in their protective gear as they prepare to protect the presidential palace in Nasser City, Cairo. (AP)

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A man walks his dog wearing a sign that says 'Leave' as demonstrators gathered outside the presidential palace, calling for Presidency Morsi to resign. (AFP)
A man walks his dog wearing a sign that says ‘Leave’ as demonstrators gathered outside the presidential palace, calling for President Morsi to resign. (AFP)

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Members of the opposition group Tamarod prepare to head to the presidential palace with a signed petition demanding the departure of President Morsi. (AFP)
Members of the opposition group Tamarod prepare to head to the presidential palace with a signed petition demanding the departure of President Morsi. (AFP)
Egyptian protesters direct laser lights on a military helicopter flying over the presidential palace. (AFP)
Egyptian protesters direct laser lights on a military helicopter flying over the presidential palace. (AFP)
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A protester waves a flag over a swelling crowd in Tahrir Square. (AP)

Fine wines flourish in Muslim Morocco

Vines stretch to the horizon under the hot summer sun in a vineyard near Casablanca, one of the oldest in Morocco, where despite the pressures from a conservative Muslim society, wine production – and consumption – is flourishing.

“In Morocco we are undeniably in a land of vines,” says wine specialist Stephane Mariot.

“Here there is a microclimate which favours the production of ‘warm wines’, even though we aren’t far from the ocean,” adds the manager of Oulad Thaleb, a 2000-hectare vineyard in Benslimane, 30 kilometres northeast of Casablanca, which he has run for five years.

The social climate in the North African county is less propitious, however, with the election of the Islamist Party of Justice and Development in 2011, and the fact that Moroccan law prohibits the sale of alcohol to Muslims, who make up 98% of the population.

In practice though, alcohol is tolerated and well-stocked supermarkets do a brisk trade in the main cities where there is a growing appetite for decent wine.

According to some estimates, 85% of domestic production is drunk locally, while around half of total output is considered good quality.

“Morocco today produces some good wine, mostly for the domestic market, but a part of it for export, particularly to France,” says Mariot.

Moroccan women pick grapes on September 14 2009 at the Ferme Rouge domain in Had Brachoua. (AFP)
Moroccan women pick grapes on September 14 2009 at the Ferme Rouge domain in Had Brachoua. (AFP)

Annual output currently stands at about 400 000 hectolitres, or more than 40 million bottles of wine, industry sources say, making the former French protectorate the second biggest producer in the Arab world.

By comparison, neighbouring Algeria, whose vineyards were cultivated for a much longer period during French colonial rule, produces 500 000 hectolitres on average, and Lebanon, with its ancient viticulture dating to the pre-Roman era, fills about six million bottles annually.

Some of Morocco’s wine regions – such as Boulaouane, Benslimane, Berkane and Guerrouane – are gaining notoriety.

Already it has one Appellation d’Origine Controlee – controlled designation of origin, or officially recognised region – named “Les Coteaux de l’Atlas”, and 14 areas with guaranteed designation of origin status, most of them concentrated around Meknes, as well as Casablanca and Essaouira.

And in March last year, an association of Moroccan sommeliers was set up in Marrakesh bringing together 20 wine experts.

French legacy 
In the central Meknes region, nestled between the Rif Mountains and the Middle Atlas, there is evidence that wine production dates back some 2 500 years.

But the industry was transformed during the time of the protectorate (1912-1956), when the kingdom served as a haven for migrating French winemakers after the phylloxera pest decimated Europe’s vineyards around the turn of the 20th century.

As in Algeria and Tunisia, the French planted vineyards extensively, with Morocco’s annual production exceeding three million hectolitres in the 1950s.

The main grape varieties used to produce the country’s red wines are those commonly found around the Mediterranean, such as Grenache, Syrah, Cabernet-Sauvignon and Merlot.

Mariot, the manager of Oulad Thaleb, boasts that the domain, which he says has the oldest wine cellar in use in the kingdom, built by a Belgian firm in 1923, produces one of Morocco’s “most popular wines”.

Standing by a barrel, he casts a proud eye on the vintage, describing it as a “warm and virile wine”.

Abderrahim Zahid, a businessman and self-styled “lover of fine Moroccan wines” who sells them abroad, says the country now produces “a mature wine which we can be proud of”.

A man pours wine into a glass inside a wine cellar in the Moroccan town of Benslimane in the Casablanca region. (AFP)
A man pours wine into a glass inside a wine cellar in the Moroccan town of Benslimane in the Casablanca region. (AFP)

Morocco’s wine industry now employs up to 20 000 people, according to unofficial figures, and generated about $170-million in 2011.

But the remarkable progress made by the sector in recent years has taken place within a sensitive social environment.

While alcohol production is permitted by state law, and supermarkets and bars enforce no special restrictions on Muslim customers, officially the sale and gift of alcoholic drinks to Muslims is illegal. They are unavailable during Islamic festivals, including throughout the holy month of Ramadan.

Separately, the Islamist-led government decided last year to raise taxes on alcoholic drinks from 450 dirhams ($53) per hectolitre to more than 500 dirhams.

So far this has not noticeably deterred consumption among Morocco’s population of 35 million, although economic realities certainly influence local drinking habits.

The wine favoured by Moroccans is a cheap red called Moghrabi, which comes in plastic bottles and costs 30 dirhams (about $3.50) a litre.

A male-only soapie for Egyptians this Ramadan

On the set of Coffee Shop, a new Egyptian soap opera to be televised next month, there was a decidedly male presence. The director was male, so too the scriptwriter. The producers were also men. The lighting operator was a man, as were the sound team. Weirder still, all the actors were men. In fact, of the 30-strong cast and crew scurrying around the set, not one was a woman.

It is this that sets Coffee Shop apart from the dozens of other soaps that will be aired in Egypt throughout Ramadan, the month-long fast that is also Egypt’s busiest and most lucrative TV season. Specially commissioned multi-episode soaps have been enjoyed by families during Ramadan since the 1960s and are often associated with romantic storylines and female stars. Controversially, Coffee Shop will have neither. Its cast is male only.

“The basic aim of the series,” said Sayed Said, Coffee Shop‘s creator and chief scriptwriter, during a break in filming, “is to show that you can make a good show without depicting naked women.”

Said conceded it was possible to make good television that featured women – “as long as they’re veiled”. But he argued that even veiled women were not a necessary part of his show since Coffee Shop is set in a street café, a largely male environment in Egypt.

Each episode will centre on arguments between two cafe regulars – Amr, an Egyptian patriot, and his friend Sherif, who hankers after a western lifestyle. “Every time Amr ends up being right,” said Said, “and Sherif ends up being wrong.”

‘Different from western ideas’
Said dreamed up the concept after becoming frustrated by the sexualised content of other Ramadan series, which he believes is offensive to Egypt’s conservative population. “I’m just trying to reflect the opinions of the everyday Egyptian citizen,” he said.

“Our idea of art is very different from western ideas,” agreed director Wagdi Elarabi, rehearsing lines elsewhere on set – a real-life cafe in a semi-rural settlement just west of Cairo. “In Europe, Parliaments agree that boys can marry boys. But [here] that is forbidden.”

 

Men play backgammon on the streets in a public coffee shop decorated for Ramadan in Cairo on September 1 2010. (Pic: Reuters)
Men play backgammon on the streets in a public coffee shop decorated for Ramadan in Cairo on September 1 2010. (Pic: Reuters)

Coffee Shop will be broadcast on al-Hafez, a new channel that caters for Salafists – ultra-conservatives who seek to mimic what they believe to have been the lifestyle of ninth-century Muslims. Last Ramadan, al-Hafez broadcast a reality series that featured teenagers competing to memorise as much of the Qur’an as possible.

“It’s a response to the accusation that the Islamic media is very backward and uncreative,” said al-Hafez’s owner, Atef Abdel-Rashid, of his channel’s output. “We’re trying to show that it is creative and that we understand drama.”

For some, Coffee Shop will be further evidence that Egyptian culture has become more conservative since the fall of Hosni Mubarak in 2011. The series comes a fortnight after the controversial appointment of a new culture minister, who – supposedly sympathetic to conservative thought – has fired several leading members of the Egyptian cultural establishment. It also follows the opening of a segregated Salafi café in a middle-class district in Cairo, and a segregated hotel in the otherwise westernised resort of Hurghada.

Said believes his show taps into mainstream Egyptian conservatism. “The purpose of drama is to reflect society,” he said, “but in [other Ramadan series] they use sex to sell the shows, and in my opinion that does not reflect Egyptian society.”

Critics
But others contested his view. “An all-male show can’t be reflective of society if it doesn’t have any women,” said Yara Goubran, star of a rival Ramadan series next month.

For Goubran, Coffee Shop is also an anomaly amid the wider context of Egyptian television. Just as some artists say they feel freer to express themselves since 2011, Goubran says directors are more prepared to depict liberal lifestyles in Egyptian soaps, which she believes most viewers have welcomed.

“It’s ironic that al-Hafez is emerging at a time when TV drama has never been more liberal, or taken so many risks,” agreed film critic Joe Fahim.

“There’s lots of sexual innuendoes now and themes that touch on sex in a way that would have seemed unimaginable in the past.”

More generally, Coffee Shop‘s deference to religious conservatism comes as another crop of Ramadan series seeks to question the hypocrisy of certain religious conservatives.

Three of this July’s most keenly awaited series (The Preacher, Without Mentioning Names, and The Second Wife) will depict religious figures who abuse their authority for political gain – a plotline that could be interpreted as a veiled dig at the Muslim Brotherhood and their Islamist allies, who have weathered similar criticisms from their opponents.

“What al-Hafez is doing is not only futile, but it doesn’t really make any sense,” said Fahim. “Not only do they misunderstand the public, but also they are in complete denial of the reality of the Egyptian street.”

Fahim said that while Islamist groups may have emerged strongest in Egypt’s 2012 parliamentary elections, it did not necessarily follow that the country was culturally as conservative as the parties it voted for.

The week the Brotherhood’s allies were elected, the No 1 film at the Egyptian box office was Haram Street, a sexually charged feature at odds with Brotherhood thought. “The same people who went to see Haram Street voted the Muslim Brotherhood into Parliament,” Fahim argued. “Writers are really pushing the button in a way that would have been unforeseeable in the past – and it’s all happening under the Muslim Brotherhood’s reign.”

Patrick Kingsley for the Guardian

Amina, the Tunisian activist who sparked a scandal

Amina Sboui, the young Tunisian arrested for an anti-Islamist protest, has become a symbol of resistance to religious intolerance for Western feminists, but opinion at home is divided over the activist who is inspired by topless protest group Femen.

Under the pseudonym Amina Tyler, she sparked an uproar in March by posting topless pictures of herself on Facebook, defying Arab-Muslim convention.

Her action provoked angry threats from radical Islamists who were repressed under Zine El Abidine Ben Ali and have become increasingly assertive since the revolution that ousted the dictator in 2011.

Amina appears handcuffed at the courthouse in the central city of Kairouan on June 5 2013. (AFP)
Amina appears handcuffed at the courthouse in the central city of Kairouan on June 5 2013. (AFP)

“Everyone has the right to express themselves in their own way and I chose my way of doing so in the style of Femen,” she told AFP in April.

She condemned the “conservative restrictions, on civil freedoms especially after the rise to power of Ennahda,” the Islamist party that won a post-revolt election and heads the coalition government.

“I would be happy to see the fall of Ennahda,” said the 18-year-old rebel, as she smoked a cigarette, adding she welcomed her new-found fame.

“Of course I’m happy to become a celebrity and attract media interest.”

With her short hair, dyed platinum blonde, and thin, delicate features, Amina explains how the topless pictures shocked her family, who she says abducted and beat her, trying to force her back into line.

‘Psychiatric problems’
Her mother denied the accusation, saying she wanted to protect her after threats from Islamists, and insisting that her daughter, who has suffered from depression since she was 14, should remain at home.

“My daughter has suffered psychiatric problems since 2009 and has been examined by doctors in the [psychiatric] hospital in Razi,” near Tunis, she explained.

Medical documents shown to AFP appear to confirm her claims.

One, dating from March, says she “has for several months shown a relapse with insomnia, sadness, irritability with explosive reactions, delusional ideas, self-deprecation and guilt, behavioural problems including suicidal and self-harm tendencies”.

Amina says she had a difficult childhood, partly spent in Saudi Arabia, and that she was molested when she was very young.

Her mother also disputes the claim, insisting the Femen movement has exploited her vulnerability without caring about her future.

Amina rejected her mother’s warnings and ran away from home in April, deciding to continue her protest campaign while waiting for a visa to France where she hopes to finish her studies.

Arrest
On May 19, she was arrested in the holy Islamic city of Kairouan for painting the word “Femen” on a wall near a cemetery, in an act of protest against a planned Salafist gathering that never took place, after it was banned by the government.

She is due to appear before an investigating judge on Wednesday, and could face charges of indecency and desecrating a cemetery, crimes which carry possible prison sentences.

Feminists in France have hailed her as a heroine, with the topless protest group Femen sending three European activists to Tunis to bare their breasts in support of her. They were arrested after they staged the group’s first demonstration in the Arab world outside the main court house on May 29. Their trial begins on Wednesday in Tunis, and the trio face a six-month prison sentence if they are convicted.

Women from the Femen activist group take part in a protest calling for Amina's release on May 30 2013, in front of the Tunisian embassy in Brussels. (Pic: AFP)
Women from the Femen activist group take part in a protest calling for Amina’s release on May 30 2013, in front of the Tunisian embassy in Brussels. (Pic: AFP)

Support
“Clearly it’s easier to incriminate a child who does not lack boldness or courage … A child who knows what she doesn’t want and is trying to wake up these people who wish to remain deaf, dumb and blind,” French blogger Caroline Fourest wrote.

In Tunisia, Amina’s support from the anti-Islamist opposition is more measured.

Feminist activist and MP Nadia Chaabane says she backs the young Tunisian in getting herself acquitted, but frowns on the Femen protests.

“I think that she is an adolescent who is slightly lost, but the fury directed against her is not justified,” she said.

Mounir Sboui, Amina’s father whom she is close to, said he was “proud” of his daughter for her ideological commitment, while also describing her acts as excessive.

“Her actions were excessive but she defends her ideas,” he said.