A long time ago, in a Middle East Far Away?

Some argue that ‘Middle Eastern stereotypes’ in the Star Wars films present a racist point of view. Faiz Sheikh, an avid member of the ‘fandom’, sets the record straight.

So yes in the final scene on Star Wars Episode 4 you can look and look and not find one ethnic minority in the hundred or so soldiers parading to celebrate the destruction of the Death Star. I thought I found one once, but it turns out the guy had a beard and his helmet was casting a shadow on his face, the hands gave him away. Therefore George Lucas is a racist, right? Well no if you take into account Lando Calrissian in episodes 5 and 6. In fact all you casual fans out there might be interested to note the various Middle Eastern inspired characters in Star Wars. If you are of the hardcore ‘fandom’ then I will not presume to be able to teach you anything here.

The Deserts of Tunisia

In the desert scenes in Episode 4, which probably constitute a good quarter of the film, we meet our young point of view character Luke Skywalker, his mysterious and wise mentor Obi Wan and everyone’s favourite scoundrel Han Solo on the desert planet, Tatooine. These scenes were in fact filmed on location, in Tunisia. George Lucas, the writer and director of Episode 4, was clearly inspired by the clothing worn by native Tunisians. The Jedi, robed mystic figures, wear the challaba, or thobe commonly seen in North Africa. During the time that I was living in Morocco I for one could not resist buying a cream challaba with a brown ‘cape’ (warmer, winter over wear) an ‘instant Jedi outfit’ which, actually, might be quite commonly seen at Friday prayers.

However, the comparison with the noble Jedi is not all. Another robe wearing desert dweller in Episode 4 is the Jawa. There are a multitude of these little guys who carve out an existence scavenging and selling scraps. They are a nuisance, vexing the film’s protagonists and shown to drive a very hard bargain. I wonder if Lucas visited the Tunisian markets before filming?

Whether we can accuse Star Wars of racial insensitivity is, I believe, a hard question to answer, and that difficulty is compounded when we turn to the infamous Jabba the Hutt of Episode 6: Return of the Jedi.

The Deserts of… Arizona?

While the fictional location of the opening scenes on Episode 6 is the same desert planet of Tatooine seen in Episode 4, the filming took place this time in Arizona. However the character of Jabba, arguably, represents another Arab stereotype: the rotund Sheikh of the Arabian Peninsula. Jabba is quite a grotesque, large, round slug type creature. He is arrogant and commanding, residing inside a palace where everything and everyone serves at his pleasure. He is also an intergalactic criminal. There are two things that I feel people have picked up on in calling Jabba a fat Sheikh: He is definitely smoking a sheesha pipe when we first meet him and he exists in a context that, as I described earlier, is aesthetically likened to the Arab world. Well the context argument can’t hold water as there are deserts all over the world. The fact he is smoking a sheesha is much harder to dismiss, but so what!

Pulp fiction vs. Literary classic

Frank Herbet’s Dune series unabashedly borrows from Arab and Islamic references. The main protagonist in Dune referred to as the Mahdi (12^th, hidden Shi’ia Imam), the book references the azan (call to prayer) of the native people, the bahr (sea) of sand and my edition even misspells the fictional Emperor Shaddam as ‘Saddam’. But, this book is a great novel of critical acclaim, few would dare call it racial stereotyping.

So is Star Wars racially insensitive? I think not. Were it a high brow piece of art or literature, like Herbert’s Dune then I doubt many people would complain. As it is, Star Wars is pulp fiction, glorious, but pulp fiction non-the-less. As such, it condenses characters into simple, entertaining screen shots. Is the appearance of the Jedi order, a mystical, robe wearing group of old men, inspired by the not so mystical old men of Tunisa? Probably. The same is also true of the not so flattering inspiration for the hardnosed Jawas. But then again none of the characters have any more depth to them than that, except perhaps Darth Vader. Luke is a poor farm boy who has adventure thrust upon him and seeks a greater destiny. Leia is a princess who, while being ‘badass’ in her own right, also functions as the archetypal damsel-in-distress. Han is a cocky rouge with a heart of gold and Chewie his loyal steed. The entire Star Wars series is a re-telling of a tired old fantasy clichés:  wizards, an evil empire, bandits, princesses and farm boys. That it is clichéd in its portrayal of secondary characters is no surprise given the main characters do not fair any better; just sit back and enjoy the saga.

BY Faiz Shiekh 

Turning off the Tap in the Jordan Basin

 

As it struggles to provide for  a rapidly growing population, is time running out for The River Jordan?

It is late September and a powerful sun beats down on the Sea of Galilee. At its edge lies a baking Tiberias, home to a young population that is fast rising above 50,000. Tiberias is not an exception – population levels are on the up throughout the Jordan basin. In neighbouring Syria, year on year growth is continuing at a steady 2%. Jordan currently stands 11^th in the world for population growth rate – narrowly edged out of the top ten by a particularly prolific Palestine.

Admittedly, these statistics are fairly unremarkable. Population growth is a global issue and the Middle-East is hardly the worst offending region. Nevertheless, it is already beginning to feel the pinch of stretched resources. In an area famed for the paucity of its rainfall, demand for water is beginning to outstrip supply.

The River Jordan flows down from the high mountains of southern Lebanon, through the Sea of Galilee before reaching the end of its journey as it pours into the Dead Sea. It crudely marks the border of variously Lebanon, Syria, Israel, Palestine and Jordan. Consequently, this is a river that bears the unusual responsibility of feeding five nations, something which it is increasingly struggling to do.

Considering its value to the region, the governments of the Jordan basin have been puzzlingly heavy-handed in their efforts at damming and diverting the river. Between them, the five countries extract over 75% of its waters – with visible effects. The Dead Sea has dropped almost 30 metres in 50 years, and this trend shows little sign of relenting.

The difficulty of shared resources is by no means unique. From disputes over fishing quotas to the global trade in carbon credits, environmental threats are keenly felt by nations the world over. However, when it comes to rivers, the precedents do not bode well. In 2009, Egypt was involved in legal wrangling with its fellow Nile states over water rights. In a bid to protect its interests, Egypt sought a legal injunction against the nations of the Upper Nile and refused to ratify a treaty aimed at sharing the river’s resources more evenly. Some labelled this belligerence, others pointing to Egypt’s large population as justification for its tough stance.

Either way, ad hoc and reactionary behaviour carries little currency when dealing with such intractable situations. Measured diplomacy led five of the nine Nile nations to broker a deal between themselves and only by adopting such an approach can Egypt hope to gain a result that satisfies both itself and the others in the region.

If anything can be learnt from this, it is that a spirit of cooperation is key to ensuring future access for all. In the case of the River Jordan this is understandably difficult. However, allowing political antipathy and individualist concerns to exacerbate what is after all a mutual crisis would be short-sighted at best, suicidal at worst. More appropriate would be to forge agreements on water usage. The sharing of dams would be a good place to start. Similarly, setting up a forum for technological exchange would only enhance the ability of all parties to cope with plummeting water levels. Israel’s hydroponic farming techniques are at the forefront of environmental science but the benefits of these technological advances are severely diminished if such knowledge is withheld from its partners on the river.

Tiberias appears to be a town oblivious to the drain that it causes on resources. Manicured lawns and hotels with swimming pools display an environmental profligacy that could rival Las Vegas. Instilling the residents with an austerity mentality may be an uphill battle but it is one that needs to be fought.

Human experience warns against holding out for a panacea. It is both unreasonable and unrealistic to expect five countries simultaneously to turn off the tap. As supply drops, some farmland will inevitably dry up, driving higher unemployment and shrinking agricultural economies. Faced with such a stark situation, regional politics seems trivial. Of greater importance are restraint and responsibility, not just from governments but from the region’s inhabitants. A number of steps can be taken to alleviate the impending crisis: farmers need to be incentivised to grow less water intensive strains of crops; family planning needs to be emphasised, and the growth of towns needs to be checked. Responsible, concerted efforts to address these issues could yet see the region through.

Dry times indeed for the River Jordan…

by Alexander Lewis

Pop Goes Middle Eastern Art

Hannah is British born and bred, but like many of our wanderlust friends she has developed quite a fondness for this region. Although in Hannah’s case, her Moroccan partner might be the root of this interest.

 Hannah Habibi’s art strikes us as a bold take on the Middle East and North Africa. She is remarkably humble given her talents: she knows Arabic has a flair for calligraphy and can also understand Amazigh (a language native to the Amazigh people of Morocco) But what is most refreshing about Hannah is that she is not interested per se in the politics of the Middle East. She appreciates the region for its art, culture and most of all the humour the Arab and Amazigh people.

This makes her art immensely refreshing. She takes as her subject scenes from the typically ‘enigmatic’ Middle East and North Africa and transposes them into a familiar Western form: pop art. What she achieves by doing this is two things. By appealing to our vacuous brand oriented nature, Hannah suggests that we might have more in common with the region than we are often led to believe. She is not afraid of surrounding a burqa clad woman with bright pink lipstick kisses, or portraying an Amazigh lady in the North African garb, the djellaba, with the words “Wash aindik fee lawan Ookhra” (Do you have this in another colour). Her subjects, Arab and Amazigh women, are suddenly remarkably familiar. This gives her art an almost universal quality rarely achieved by those who take the Middle East as their subject. Beyond its appeal to the intellect, Hannah’s work also appeals to the heart. It is funny, attractive, and inherently playful. Our favourite painting in this regard is the Arab Wonder Woman which turns the notion of the oppressed Arab woman on its head rather. There is also a great tongue-in-cheek portrait of a niqab clad girl resembling a Hezbollah supporter. In this case though, she is wearing red heart-shaped sunglasses and a bandanna that says: “I’m a lover not a fighter”.

THE ARABIST