Which Way is Mecca?

"Build Respect for Christmas"? Respect Goes Both Ways!

2010-12-27T10:06:00.001-08:00

Certainly there's no defense for vandalizing Xmas trees or other decorations or personal property, but I wonder what constitutes "belligerence towards the celebration of Christmas," especially now that there are people who take offense when one says "Happy Holidays" instead of "Merry Christmas." If they are really offended that we acknowledge the diversity of religions and traditions, then I would be happy to tell them something much more offensive -- with the same initials as "Festive Yule." There are even idiots out there writing that "Xmas" is a pagan insult, not recognizing that the abbreviation is a common, long-time usage by Christians. There are truly horrendous assaults on Christians as seen recently in Iraq and Pakistan, but so much whining over the "war on Christmas" is trivial nonsense that cheapens the issue of real bigotry and sectarian violence.

Much of what vandalism there is in America is wreaked by out-of-control teenagers and thugs who simply take delight in destruction. There's no (anti-)religious or bigoted agenda there, just rampant hooliganism. Some friends were discussing how their street -- well known for their holiday decorations -- was attacked by thieves who stole their decorations. The conversation never raised the notion of a religious/hate crime aspect to it, but they seemed to think that it was just run-of-the-mill thieves and vandals.

I really don't care for the holiday, have no use for most of what surrounds it, but to each his own. I certainly don't want to ruin anyone else's celebration. Because I choose not to participate I get called "Scrooge" and "Grinch" -- characters who selfishly or maliciously tried to ruin the holidays of others. No, I wish simply to abstain, just as I would not attend a drunken frat party or a tailgate party at a football game. Not interested, thank you, but have a good time.

That doesn't seem to be enough for the Stepford elves who insist on conformity, not even to religion. All too common is the bovine cooing that if I'm not comfy with the religious aspect I should just get into the spirit of rampant commercialism and saccharine familial sentimentality, just what I dislike most about this holiday that ramps up family stresses, disappointments and violence. Suicides are very high this time of the year.

Actually I have a great respect for the religious aspect and would honor the birth of the prophet Jesus (pbuh) even if his birthday was actually March 1. We can agree to disagree on his actual birthday, his parentage and theological relationship to God. Honoring the Messiah and penultimate of God's prophets I could even see Muslims organizing to observe his life and his message on Dec. 25 by participating in efforts to feed, clothe, and house the poor, either alongside our non-Muslim friends or in our own separate efforts with a more Islamic flavor, perhaps calling it "Eid Issa Rasul Allah" or something like that.

Anyway, I hope everybody else enjoys their holidays as I enjoy mine. If that's not enough respect for some people then maybe they need to learn to respect my space.

In any event, happy new year.

"Agora"... phobic?

2010-07-24T17:21:00.000-07:00

In the new film, “Agora,” Rachel Weiss plays Hypatia, an atheist astronomer in 4th century Alexandria who is persecuted by the Christians who are taking power. After the movie a quick check online revealed that there is more historical fact in this movie then I would have guessed. Still it is clearly more concerned with drama than history!) As an atheist and an outspoken woman – indeed, the only identifiable woman in the film – Hypatia is an easy target for the new order.

While the Christians are the real villains of the piece Jews and Pagans don’t come off very well either. This film will be quite a thrill for some of my atheist friends. My religious friends will see the story as a warning against fundamentalism and bigotry (and sloppy, simplistic writing!) Then again, my religious friends are not the fundies and tight-asses who are portrayed as the heavies here, Christians, Pagans, Jews….

But no Muslims in this story… or are there? This was 300 years before Muhammed (pbuh) so of course there couldn’t be, but this is Egypt! The architecture is Roman/Egyptian, but the clothes and arid landscapes are clearly mid-eastern. The worst of the Christians – Cyril and Ammonius – are played by Arab actors (Sami Samir and Ashraf Barhom, respectively). The more European looking actors are mostly accomodationists, “pragmatists,” and other “useful idiots” who, foolish or opportunistic, end up working for the new order.

The story is one of mid-eastern religious fundamentalists taking over and destroying a scientific, free-thinking woman – and indeed science and free-thinking. Silencing the brave, brilliant, atheist woman will set astronomy back by 1200 years. While Hypatia is teaching astronomy in the Library of Alexandria, we don’t hear from less educated voices until the religious zealots have taken over, destroyed the great library, and then spout the common ignorance of flat-earthers. See how they spread and enforce ignorance? Never mind the fact that, with few exceptions, people of all religions were in those days even more abysmally uneducated than today’s Fox News viewers.

Also never mind that the keepers of wisdom and literature at the library were also religious, and that Christians were among the students. The traditional Romans are more European in appearance and outlook, and their religion more formal than obviously heartfelt. Where they fight for their religion it seems more a defense of the existing class structure and their own privilege than of any theological precept. One religious community attacks another. Never are individuals brought up for crimes. Amenabar preaches that religion is dividing and atheism is more open and reconciling.

But even this formal Roman culture of intellect that is only formally religious is more open and accepting than the darker skinned riff-raff in their dark eastern robes and dark headscarves who are spreading their newly tolerated upstart religion and… well… darkness.

Of course, it’s 4th century Alexandria. These horrible fundamentalists threatening to destroy all wisdom, light, and freedom can’t possibly be Muslims. Or can they? And if the more intellectual and assimilated members of the new religion then ended up serving as bridge for the fundamentalists, what is the implication for the moderates of today? Is Amenabar here preaching tolerance? Or is he saying that only so much can be tolerated? He says his movies are to provide questions, not answers. The biggest question here is, what questions does he really intend to ask?

Investigate the Israeli attack on the Freedom Flotilla!

2010-06-10T10:41:00.001-07:00

Israeli commandos boarded the Mavi Marmara in the middle of the night guns already out and aimed at passengers.

What would you do?

On the Mavi Marmara some of the people bringing humaniatarian aid to Gaza defended themselves with “poles” and “bars” that were in fact railings and pieces of deck chairs hastily improvised – pieces of the boat they were sailing on. What knives and “weapons” the IDF found were those normally found on board a ship for necessary maintenance and work. When the ship had been boarded in Turkey Turkish officers inspected everything going on board, putting people through metal detectors and screening as complete as if they were boarding a plane. (Just as they had inspected all the supplies the relief workers were bringing them.) Turkey is a member of NATO, a long time ally of the US and – at least so far – an ally of Israel. Is their word not good enough?

Turkish aid volunteers were shot in the face. Furkan Dogan, a 19-year-old Turkish-American boy was shot four times in the face at point blank range. Is that defensive? Trained commandos who are shooting in purely self-defense would aim at legs and arms. At close range the IDF shot Turkish passengers in the head, and in the chest. That’s not self-defense. That’s murder.

Wounded passengers were denied medical care or access to bathrooms. Many were forced to soil themselves while captive and bound by IDF soldiers. Even when they were bound soldiers aimed guns at them whenever they would talk. Al this from survivor testimonies at http://www.freegaza.org/boat-trips/survivor-testimonies

As soon as they took control of the ships – not just the Mavi Marmara – Israeli soldiers took all telephones, computers, cameras – anything used to communicate or record what was happening. Even professional journalists’ cameras, recorders, and computers were taken from them. The aid workers and news people were stripped of any ability to document what was happening. Beyond their own testimony any proof of what was happening was immediately taken and destroyed by the IDF. That was clearly their aim anyway. Some footage was sneaked out. Some of this is visible in an interview with Iara Lee at http://www.democracynow.org/2010/6/10/exclusive_journalist_smuggles_out_video_of Ms. Lee’s description of the attack is eloquent, clear, and consistent. I urge everyone to see this! Ms. Lee also has a written account at http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2010/06/05/EDC31DQ215.DTL

While aid workers, sailors, and journalists were kept in captivity Israel controlled the information going to the media. Not only were they able to control information getting out, they would not release the names of the killed or wounded leaving friends and families uncertain and worried.

Israeli soldiers also took all wallets, cash, and credit cards. Returning relief workers have been finding charges on their accounts being made in Tel Aviv and other Israeli cities they had never been to.

Much noise has been made accusing the Turkish relief organization, IHH of having ties to terrorists. Even the Washington Post, a firm supporter of Israel, reports that there is no substance behind these charges. ( http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2010/06/09/AR2010060905930.html?wpisrc=nl_cuzhead ) Yes, there are some dealings and contacts with Hamas, but Hamas is the de facto government in Gaza. If you want to save people from starving and illness in Gaza, how do you propose not having dealings with Hamas? Previous loads of supplies confiscated by Israel, which they had promised to distribute, were kept so long that clothes were too destroyed by mildew to be passed on. Food was rotted, and building supplies were denied to the Gazans whose homes were destroyed by Israeli bombs. Not exactly building credibility there.

Having destroyed most of the documentary evidence of what actually was happening on the ships Israel now wants to prevent any outside neutral investigation. Even Israeli naval officers apparently concerned for their own integrity say that an outside investigation is absolutely necessary.

It is not at all unreasonable to demand that Israel be held to the same standards of international law that other countries are obliged to follow. The Israeli government too often complains of being held to a double standard, but they constantly invoke exceptional conditions to justify their own double standard. If their charges against the activists on the Mavi Marmara are true they certainly have nothing to fear by an outside investigation of the events in question, and should even welcome the chance to exonerate themselves.

Signs of Hatred, Signs of Progress

2010-06-02T09:46:00.000-07:00

Whenever pro-Palestinian activists demonstrate we can always count on a bunch of Zionists to counter-demonstrate across the street. I am happy to note that whenever they show up, there are more Jews on our side of the street than they can muster up on theirs. This week, following the IDF’s murderous attack on a humanitarian flotilla bringing aid to Gaza I noticed that as our numbers were larger than ever, they were a much smaller crowd than we’ve seen. At the demonstration at Powell and Market on Monday there were 4 Zionists across the street. Among a few hundred people standing for Palestine I recognized at least several dozen Jewish friends. The next day we filled the sidewalk in front of the Israeli consulate. The Zionist group has always taken up a good section of the sidewalk opposite. This time their diminished numbers had a spacious section in their usual spot while our overflow crowd jammed spaces on either side. On “their” side of the street alone our overflow outnumbered them 4 to 1.

Among their signs insisting that Israel wants peace was one that declared “Until Gaza is Destroyed the Job Isn’t Done.” I guess that sets the terms of their “peace?” For Palestinians it’s the peace of the grave.

Another sign boasted “Israel sends 15,000 tons of aid into Gaza every week.” In centuries past astrologers were called “mathematicians”, so let’s do the math…. Let’s see for 1.5 million people that breaks down to 1 ton for every 100 people, or 20 pounds per person per week or a bit less than 3 pounds per day. At home with the computer that checks out to 2.857142857 pounds per person per day to a people under siege. I have to admit to not knowing what is in there. But for something that is very important… say… how much of it is water? Israel has destroyed the Gazan infrastructure including water filtration. Gazans don’t have access to potable water* so let’s say that if the Israelis were shipping in 2.857142857 pounds of water per person per day – a pound is a pint – so that’s less than 3 pints (1.5 liters) of water per person per day for drinking and washing. Factor any food into the equation and there’s obviously less water. Building materials to provide shelter for the people who were bombed out of their homes? Forget it. Israelis boast openly of keeping the Gazans on a “diet” and intend to starve them out. And here they tout a number that is supposed to look generous, but yeah, do the math and it is more of their boasting that they are committing genocide in slow motion.

“Rid of Islam” was another sign decorated with the Danish cartoon that shows the Prophet Muhammed (pbuh) with a bomb in his turban. That image has become an icon for the Islamophobes. It just declares the person who copies it as a hateful idiot. The image isn’t worth reacting to, and really the message is no better, although it reveals a genocidal turn of mind. Trying to eliminate a religion, scapegoating it as a menace to the world has already been tried. Of course Jews should know this better than anyone.

And what are the lessons of the Holocaust? The Zionists seem to see those lessons as an instruction manual. I used to say that Israel was better than Nazi Germany, but that’s an awfully low standard; they should do better. The distinction is harder to maintain. At this point the only difference I can see is in the Wannsee decisions. We always imagine Nazi Germany with the death camps, but those were only in effect after 1942. Comparisons between Gaza and the Warsaw Ghetto are common and apt. With apartheid and checkpoints in the West Bank and the ghetto/open air prison conditions imposed on Gaza there is little to distinguish Israel’s treatment of Palestinians from the Nazi’s anti-Semitic policies from 1933-1942.

Again, I am happy to say that more and more Jews, realizing the horror being perpetrated in their names, are standing up against it. It is getting harder for Zionists to claim to act in the name of all Jews, and as their numbers and their support within the Jewish community are shrinking. It is clearer every day that criticizing Israel is not anti-Semitic. Telling a friend or a relative that they have to live by the same rules of civilized society that others are compelled to follow is not an act of hatred. It is often the best thing you can do.

*The Middle East Children’s Alliance is focusing on building water filtration plants at schools so that children can have access to clean, fresh water. Please support this effort by contributing at http://www.mecaforpeace.org/project/maia-project

Boom and Bust (It's not about economics!)

2009-09-06T11:47:00.000-07:00

Today I read of the passing of Al Gordon, a true hero in a great way and his tribute is in the LA Times.

On one day he was my own personal hero, but I confess, this story is much more about me than him. I only met this gentle warrior briefly when he got me out of the Hollywood Jail, and I've never had the opportunity (or thankfully, the need) to see him again.

But a posting about Mr. Gordon's passing, provoked some questions, so here is the whole story:

One summer day in 1982 the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence went on a tour of Hollywood. We made a pilgrimage to Frederick’s thereof and Boom Boom got a new bust.

Actually we’d been invited to speak to the Los Angeles chapter of Dignity and had a nice long weekend, half a dozen of the impish and possibly impious nuns in the City of the Queen of Angels. We were Sister Missionary Position, Sister Vicious Power Hungry Bitch, Sister, Mary O’Stop, a couple of others…. Oh, dear, forgive me, but it was 27 years ago… and of course, your own erstwhile Sister Boom Boom. One day was spent as a pilgrimage to various holy sites. We started our tour at a grand cemetery where we saw the columbarium that included what was left of Marilyn Monroe. A demure little plaque in the wall marked her spot.

A much grander and utterly poseworthy tomb held the remains of Douglas Fairbanks, Jr. and adding splendor to his bier was a long reflecting pool. The sisters, processed along the pool, the others in traditional robes, Sister Boom Boom bringing up the rear in fishnets and a black and white polka-dot bathing suit, accessorized with a chain for a belt, on which I had my big, multi-colored baby’s rosary, keys, and handcuffs. (Never leave home without them!) Swiss tourists went frantic with their cameras, yelling at each other (auf Deutsch) “Look over there! Look there! It’s Fellini!!!!”

From there we were conveyed to Hollywood Boulevard where we caused a huge stir. In San Francisco people would always engage with the Sisters, ask us questions, chat and joke with us. In Los Angeles they crowded and stared, preserving the show-biz tradition of the fourth wall. After just a few minutes admiring the impressions at Grauman’s (now “Mann’s”) Chinese Theatre we were asked to leave – for upstaging the cement? Well, we’ve been kicked out of better places… or have we? Hmmm… Out on the sidewalk of the stars, Sister Boom Boom sat by a star making a leggy cheesecake pose while another Sister took pictures. But, wait! I should have checked first. Whose star was that? Zsa Zsa Gabor??? Thank you very much, I’ll have my own star! Pulling out my lipstick I autographed a blank star and Sister Boom Boom was briefly a meteor on the sidewalk of the stars.

The pictures taken, we processed to our pick-up truck where a few of Hollywood’s Finest (so to speak. Actually they weren’t too bad!) came up to us asking, “OK, who defaced the sidewalk?” Seeing where this was going, and to save trouble (and as there were too many witnesses to deny anything!) I raised my gloved hand and admitted to the “crime.”

This wasn’t my first arrest (That was at the Pentagon with a group of Quakers when I was 14, at a war protest.) so I knew to co-operate, take the full rap and keep the other Sisters clear of trouble, so they could do what was necessary. Of course, the tourists were having a field day, crowding around with their cameras and asking Sisters at the periphery if we were making a movie. The police were very professional, polite and gentle throughout. (Thank God for all those people and their cameras!) When it came time to handcuff me one of the cops saw my accessories and asked if he should use my handcuffs or theirs. “Yours, Dear,” I answered., “Let’s keep this professional.”

Sister Mary O’Stop was careful to get pictures of the officer with his badge name and number. It’s the usual smart thing to do when your friend is getting arrested, but I had that info burned in my brain. The number I’ve forgotten in the many years since, but I’ll never forget Officer Tabak. He was a real cutie! Anyway, I later told Sister that instead of focusing so much on him, handsome as he was, she should have been getting pictures of me for Sisters’ archives. Sigh! God bless the novice!

While the police read me my rights, the tourists were snapping away and I was giving the cameras my best, reaching my arms out from behind, the best I could to show my cuffed wrists. The officers told me to stop posing for pictures, and I protested that they were taking the photos, shouldn’t I be polite? Cuffed and put into the car we drove off to Hollywood Station. The cops were joking all the way and I joined in the jolly banter. Rule one when getting arrested: be calm and co-operative. Rule #2: show no fear. Truth is I was more than a little nervous, but I wasn’t about to let anyone see that.

They lectured me like a child, with silly questions: “Do you know how many thousands of dollars it will cost the taxpayers to clean up your damage?” Right. A little lipstick on the sidewalk. I offered to tackle the job with a soapy rag. “What if somebody steps in it?” They might get a little lipstick on the sole of a shoe? People step in much worse all the time. I kept responding to silly questions with sensible answers, and they kept shrugging acceptance of my replies, but they persisted. Oh, well. It was Hollywood. They had their role to play and I had mine. Working with these gentlemanly professionals was a true pleasure, and I’d like to thank the academy…

Once at the station I was put on a bench with a chain across it, my cuffed wrists behind me locked to the chain. It wasn’t really uncomfortable, but in the time I was there (It felt like hours, but I couldn’t look at my watch) chained to a bench in my fishnets and bathing suit, not a one of the handsome, rugged policemen took advantage of me. That wounding of my pride is really the worst that happened all day. Never mind the continuing silly questions. (“What the hell are you?” I’m Sister Boom Boom from the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, in San Francisco – always answered with a bright, cheery smile.) But while I was chained down, a policewoman – of course it would be a woman – asked the one sensible question I heard all day: “What shade of lipstick was it?”

“Loganberry Frost” I announced, “It’s the only shade I ever use!” (Actually it was Ming Rose, but I had to offer tribute to our most fabulous Sister Loganberry Frost!)

Some poor girl was chained down next to me. I think she was on drugs, and given our bondage and location I don’t blame her at all for not offering to share. They’d pulled her out of a stolen car where she was a passenger. Where the driver of said vehicle was there was no indication, but the poor dear was just a passenger, and apparently she had a record. The poor thing was panicking very loudly and I tried offering her comfort. “Keep, cool, Honey. Save your energy, and don’t let them see you panicking. It only plays into their hands.” Of course I was talking to myself as much as to her.

They took my belongings and inventoried everything, fingerprinted me and took my mug shots. The photographer was disturbed by my photogenic smile and told me to stop smiling so big. Just as I was about to be put into a big cage with a very colorful collection of fellows (and here’s where I really got nervous!) the word came down that I was to be released.

My wimple, purse, and waistchain were returned to me and I was released due to the kind efforts of Al Gordon, a darling, softspoken, grandfatherly figure who had gotten me out on recognizance and later got the charges dropped. As for his charges, it was all pro bono – icing on the cake! God bless Al Gordon!

The other sisters met me telling how they had gotten a bucket and towel and cleaned the sidewalk – getting before and after pictures – saving the taxpayers of Los Angeles the onerous costs of cleaning lipstick off a sidewalk. We were far from the police station when I realized they had taken my handcuffs from my chain! How dare they! Well, we had to head back to San Francisco. It would be much easier to replace them than to go back and make a fuss, and we certainly didn’t want any more trouble with the police.

Let the Moon FIGHTING begin!

2009-08-02T13:24:00.001-07:00

Any Islamic month starts the night of the first visible crescent moon. What's "visible" remains an open question and when we start Ramadan fasting, and celebrate Eid at the completion of the month can be a point of some conflict.

For this year anyway the beginning of Ramadan should be pretty clear. On the evening of August 20, almost everywhere in the world, the Moon will not yet be far enough from the Sun to be visible... only 10 degrees when it sets over San Francisco. By the next evening, the 21st, it will be easily visible wherever the sky of the Western horizon is clear. Fasting begins on August 22.

Eid is celebrated at the beginning of the next month and then the visibility of the moon is less certain. September 19th it MAY be visible in parts of the American southwest, setting Eid celebrations on the 20th. Or it may not be visible anywhere in America that evening, so perhaps we should celebrate Eid on the 21st. A group of sheikhs somewhere will have already decided. It's not worth fighting over. I may disagree with ruling councils on matters of principle, but there's no point in arguing over one day more or less of fasting. Besides, if you don't go with your mosque on this one, you just miss a party -- and gain nothing for it.

A response to Tariq Ramadan's statements on Islam and Homosexuality

2009-08-01T08:54:00.000-07:00

Tariq Ramadan, a leading European Muslim intellectual has posted an article "Islam and Homosexuality"

My response to Brother Tariq:

Assalaamu Aleikum,

The way homosexuality and Islam are being positioned against each other
creates a false dichotomy and does no favors for GLBT folks or for Muslims.
One of the more interesting facets of this issue is how many people who have
been outspoken anti-gay “defenders of tradition” have suddenly decided to
include gays in their defense of Western Culture. "Friends" like this
nobody needs.

Brother Tariq here takes on quite a few issues, rather confusing the point.
But one of the beautiful things about Islam is that it recognizes that we
all bring our own backgrounds, biases, and information gaps to any argument
and should listen to diverse opinions with respect.

The word “homosexuality” and the understandings of that word have a peculiar
history. The term was itself coined in 1868 for political purpose and
quickly found a medical niche. We know that there has been same-sex love
through history, that it exists in all human cultures and that there is
same-sex activity in hundreds of animal species. There is a growing body of
scientific evidence that same-sex attraction is innate, that it has a
largely genetic component. Like left- or righthandedness, one’s eye color
or height, it is part of a range of normal variations. However the way
sexuality is understood varies greatly from one culture to another.

Brother Tariq makes a very firm declaration about the universality of
religious rejection of homosexuality, but there are in fact a growing number
of religions that accept same-sex love. Unitarians, Quakers, and an
ever-expanding range of protestant denominations accept GLBT members and
offer same-sex marriage to loving couples. In the largest denominations –
the Lutherans, Anglicans, and Presbyterians – the issue has been
controversial exactly because same-sex love has been gaining so much
acceptance. What “a majority of rabbis” accept I can’t say, but the Reform
and Conservative branches of Judaism are accepting of homosexuality. Gay
and lesbian rabbis are common and serve on rabbinical boards. A small, but
growing number of Muslim groups are even becoming more accepting.

In Islam condemnations of homosexuality rest on the story of Lot (Sodom and
Gomorrah) which is about men raping men. This is common in prisons, and we
see it mostly in situations where men who identify as heterosexual attack
men they perceive as gay. I’ve personally known men who were savagely
attacked and gangraped by groups of men this way. There are also stories of
such abuse by Egyptian and Iranian police. This has nothing at all to do
with men loving men or women loving women.

Brother Tariq’s assertion that “Muslims are now being called upon to condemn
the Qur’an, and to accept and promote homosexuality to gain entry into the
modern world,” is quite an overstatement. There are people like Geert
Wilders who urge us to reject or revise the Qur’an, and that of course is
impossible. Some people do make impossible demands only to create trouble.
That is quite separate from the issue of homosexuality, even if they do
exploit that issue. Homosexuality is not something that can be promoted any
more than blue eyes or being six feet tall can be promoted. People can
experiment and “fool around” just as they might wear contact lenses or high
heels, but in the end you are who you are. Heterosexuality is promoted, and
in many places even mandated, but our God-given human nature will out, and
homosexuals forced into heterosexual marriages by cultural and familial
pressures live unhappily in loveless marriages, often leading double lives,
cheating on their mates. Not only are gays and lesbians being deprived of
fulfilling, loving partnerships but so are their heterosexual husbands and
wives. Gay people know that a sexual orientation cannot be promoted. It
can only be accepted – or rejected – that there are people of different
sexual orientations, and that everyone, regardless of orientation is
entitled to equal rights.

Brother Tariq is addressing the situation of Muslims living in western
nations. Muslims who live in pluralistic societies, or as minorities, are
obliged to respect the laws and customs of the lands we live in. In
democratic nations where we are part of a dialogue where attitudes towards
homosexuality are changing, we can take a voice in that conversation.
Politically it is in our interest to promote acceptance for diversity. Our
religion tells us to “live and let live.” Brother Tariq is quite correct
when he says:

“There is no ambiguity, and ample clarity: European Muslims have the right
to express their convictions while at the same time respecting the humanity
and rights of individuals. If we are to be consistent, we must respect this
attitude of faith and openness”

This is exactly what GLBT activists are working for – no more; no less.

Response to a Critique of "The Reader"

2009-02-13T12:33:00.000-08:00

I’m glad your friend’s grandmother survived the camps. Nobody in my German Jewish family did. Some, including my grandparents, were lucky to get out early. The rest didn’t. I grew up on stories of my great-grandmother, uncles, aunts, cousins disappearing into ghettos and camps. Some of these I confirmed myself at Holocaust museums and at Dachau. I’ve known survivors socially and from working for years at a Jewish Community Center, but none of my own family…

And I’ve wondered how an illiterate got into that SS job – well, it was late in the war, maybe they were desperate, who knows? One can quibble over what may be simply artistic license. And can the shame of illiteracy be worse than the shame of killing so many other people? All too easily. I know people with reading disabilities and the stigma is tremendous. In contrast, in Michael Moore’s “Sicko” we see insurance executives and bureaucrats who think nothing of letting people die for the sake of profit. From gay bashings and reports on racial lynchings we see how easy it is for people to dehumanize others, to trivialize murder, even turn it into a sport, or entertainment.

While “The Reader” can provoke all kinds of questions about historical accuracy and credibility of motivation (neither of which necessarily invalidates a work of fiction) the real difficulty of the movie is that it asks us to see this SS guard who casually, thoughtlessly participated in mass murder as a human being. And this is the challenge, to see Nazis as human.

We see other genocides all too often, from Armenia to Cambodia to Rwanda, the annihilation of Native Americans, and of Bosniaks. Yes, the Nazis were monstrous in the extreme, but inhuman?

I make no defense or justification of Nazism. Anyone trying that would infuriate me. I am profoundly disturbed by any ideology of hate and this one in particular fills me with revulsion that goes to my earliest childhood, the stories from those who survived, and those who didn’t. The sight of a swastika makes me sick. And yet, the most horrifying thing about them is that indeed they came from the same DNA as any of us, they and we are made of the same stuff, and as much as they debased humanity they are still a part of it. What really separates us but upbringing, character, and circumstance?

The human capacity for what Hannah Arendt called “the banality of evil” the casual disregard that allows us to justify and shrug away murders is not limited to one horrific aberration of the mid-twentieth century. Was that even an aberration in anything but its mechanical devotion and efficiency? History suggests not.

And this is the hardest part of it. If we fail to see the humanity of the Nazis we fail to guard against the human capacity for evil, and can fall into replicating that evil all too easily.

The historic suffering and persecutions of the Jewish people are deep in our experience and the trauma of the Shoah is all too powerful. But what to do with that power? There are two general paths that trauma victims tend to take. (And they’re not entirely mutually exclusive.) One is the path of the healer, seeking to identify one’s suffering with others. A lot of Jews got into the anti-racist struggle and worked with Black leaders for civil rights. Jewish participation with blacks in the post-war era was big! And there has been lots of Jewish participation and support of other civil rights struggles.

The other path is to identify the trauma as unique. “Nobody’s suffered as I/we have,” and that can become license to act out. It doesn’t always. Some people carry their “special and unique” wound through life, causing no harm to anyone else. We also see it with abused children who become abusers, spouse-beaters, and criminals. They identify so deeply as a victim, that no matter how they harm others, how strong and aggressive they may become, it is they who are being victimized. We see it with Israelis who shoot Palestinian children and drop white phosphorus into crowded neighborhoods.

Yes, Nazis have rejected their own humanity so profoundly that the notion that they can be dehumanized seems redundant. But it’s not about them; it is, at this point, about us. We have to recognize the evil of dehumanization as part of the omnipresent peril of being human. We have to recognize what is human in Hannah Schmidt if we are ever to protect our own humanity from falling into the same pit that swallowed hers.

The Gay Liberation Front 40 years later!

2009-02-11T09:30:00.000-08:00

This June will mark the 40th anniversary of the Stonewall Uprising and the Gay Liberation Front that started out of that. Members of the GLF are organizing and participating in events marking our history. I just learned this morning that we've been given the best spot in the SF Gay Pride Parade, and I damn well think we deserve it. What a 40 years it's been!

But it's a profoundly bittersweet occasion as I remember all the many men who did not survive the AIDS crisis. I can only think of a few from our group in Washington DC that might still be alive. Maybe. Where are they? Oh, yes. There's Tim. Thank God for Tim; dear, sweet, kind, beautiful Tim. As for the rest, the only ones I am sure of are those who have passed: friends, lovers, beautiful, brave, and brilliant young men who soared like Icarus daring things that few would even dream of, and they changed the world.

I hope and pray that others from our group will surface, but who knows? Other men and women from other GLF chapters are coming together and we will have a chance to share our histories, recalling great events and amazing people, so much gained, so many lost, the pride, the joy, the wonder of it all, and the grief are all beyond measuring.

News from Gaza

2009-01-23T15:31:00.000-08:00

This is not for the squeamish. It is one of the most disgusting, awful things I've ever read -- a letter from Barbara Lubin who is in Gaza bringing medicines and food. I've long said that Israel is better than the Nazis, but that's too low a standard. Now I can't give Israel even that much credit.

You can help get food and medicine to the Palestinians by donating to the Middle-East Children's Alliance

January 23, 2009
Dear Jack,

I entered the Gaza Strip on Wednesday night with my friend and fellow activist Sharon Wallace after waiting ten hours at the Egypt/Gaza. The destruction and trauma is even greater than I expected.

In just two short days I met with families who were given minutes to evacuate their homes and are now living in overcrowded UN schools; I saw the ruins of bombed greenhouses; I looked out the window at fields and roads torn up by the tread of Israeli tanks; and I visited two universities where MECA supports students with scholarships-severely damaged by Israeli bombs.

Out of all the devastation I have seen so far, there is one story in particular that I think the world needs to hear. I met a mother who was at home with her ten children when Israeli soldiers entered the house. The soldiers told her she had to choose five of her children to "give as a gift to Israel." As she screamed in horror they repeated the demand and told her she could choose or they would choose for her. Then these soldiers murdered five of her children in front of her. The concept of "Jewish morality" is truly dead. We can be fascists, terrorists, and Nazis just like everybody else.

I spent the first morning visiting Rafah then drove north to Nuseirat Refugee Camp where our partner organization Afaq Jadeeda Association is buying food a delivering cooked meal to displaced families with funds MECA provided. Then to Gaza City.

Today I visited Jabaliya Refugee Camp and the Zaytoun neighborhood of Gaza City, two of the areas hardest hit by Israel's brutal attacks. Pharmacies, schools, and homes were indiscriminately hit in Jabaliya. Mohammed, one of our volunteers in Gaza, and his family were forced to evacuate their home because of intense bombing in their area.

In Zaytoun, I saw families gathering wood from charred trees. The almost two-year blockade of Gaza has deprived people cooking gas, so these terrified families build fires to keep warm and cook the little food they can get.

I talked to people on the street who told stories of wild dogs coming to eat their dead neighbors, relatives bleeding to death because Israel would not allow emergency workers into the area, and Israeli soldiers entering homes to beat and kill.

But despite the immense mourning and devastation, people are starting to put their lives back together. Sabreen, a young woman from Rafah, told me, "We are a strong people. No matter how many times Israel bombs us we are not leaving. We will keep trying to live as normal a life as possible."

Sincerely,
Barbara Lubin
Gaza City, Gaza, Palestine

Hope and Change

2009-01-20T18:10:00.000-08:00

Assalaamu Aleikum

I sat at my desk this morning watching the inauguration of President Barack Hussein Obama, and after the historic event itself I had to turn off the TV, ostensibly to get to work, but who can work? Since this morning I’ve been on an emotional roller coaster, sometimes crying, sometimes ecstatic, sometimes exhausted with the relief of waking up from a horrible nightmare. Several horrible nightmares.

President Barack Hussein Obama. Saying that aloud, or just repeating the phrase in my head, it’s like listening to the angels sing. I remember attending Dr. King’s march on Washington. I remember the TV news with Sheriff Clark in Selma Alabama attacking civil rights marchers with dogs and fire hoses. I remember the freedom rides, the marches, black friends telling me how they couldn’t get service at a restaurant or a hotel. Only two years before I was born my mother went to the only public high school in her county, and black students were not allowed. Any who wanted a high school education had to go to the next county, and their family had to make any arrangements for travel, lodging, etc… And with such segregation, what kind of school would be awaiting those who made the effort? In my lifetime we have gone from Jim Crow segregation to having a black President, no less one with an African name reflecting his Muslim roots.

I remember coming out in 1970 when Illinois was the only part of the US where lovemaking between two men wasn’t a criminal act, when being gay was a shameful secret, when the only ones who were out were the few weirdos too flaming or radical not be in a closet. And how they paid the price! Bashings were common, even murders. Forget getting a decent job, and you were very lucky if your family wouldn’t banish you.

Things do change. In fact change is the only constant.

Now in contact online with GLBT folks in Muslim countries I hear their stories and try to offer hope. “Oh, but here is not like in America” they tell me. No, it’s not like America now. It’s like America 40 years ago. And it will change. We have changed. You will change.

The world is all about change, and today we have seen a change that is a culmination of centuries of striving and sacrifice on the part of so many African Americans who worked so hard to give their children better chances than they ever had, not to become president, but sometimes just to get their kids a decent education or a decent meal, and all too often just to survive the slave market and the whip, to escape the dogs and the lynchings.

President Barack Hussein Obama. Oh, how I love saying that! I have my reservations and doubts about this particular man. I’ve followed his record, and as we should regard any politician I only trust him so far, but after what we’ve had, we can at least count on President Barack Hussein Obama to be a huge improvement. He has a very tough road ahead of him and I hope and pray that he is up to the challenges. Jimmy Carter, a good, humane, and very intelligent man stumbled under the load of wreckage he inherited from his Republican predecessors. We enter uncertain times with the handicaps of the last eight years of hideous malfeasance. And for all that the mere fact that we have a president named Barack Hussein Obama and that suddenly our White House is not so entirely white, all inspires hope beyond reason.

President Barack Hussein Obama. Why does a black man in that White house matter to gay kids in Pakistan, Yemen, and Malaysia? Exactly because he does show that there is change, there is reason to hope, that things can eventually get better, and that there is a historical wave washing humanity of its prejudices, all our most stupid bigotries.

When I was a little boy with my family at Martin Luther King’s March on Washington, I had no idea that one of the organizers at that march was a man named Bayard Rustin, an African-American community organizer who helped Dr. King learn the ways of Mahatma Gandhi. Rustin had been arrested and exposed as a homosexual 10 years earlier and it hurt his career in the movements for peace and racial equality. He was much kept away from the cameras for fear of scandal, but Dr. King kept him close and never shied away from Rustin’s friendship, never pushed him out of sight.

And just a few months ago we saw a movie about Harvey Milk, a gay community organizer in the 1970’s. He learned organizing tactics from the example of Martin Luther King who had learned from Bayard Rustin who learned from Gandhi’s followers in India. And Harvey Milk came to the same end as Dr. King, and Mahatma Gandhi, and so many others, and perhaps that’s part of why I’ve been crying today – for Martin Luther King and Malcolm X, for the four little girls in Montgomery, for Emmett Till, Medgar Evers, James Chaney, Viola Luzzo, and so many others who were murdered on this terrible road of necessity. And make no mistake, racism is still strong in America and there is so much work left to do, but here we are with our president Barack Hussein Obama, showing that for all the work ahead of us there is so much that is truly, at last behind us.

And with President Barack Hussein Obama we already have four open gays and lesbians in high posts in the White House. Just twenty years ago that would have been impossible. Change happens. Wherever you are, whenever you are living, change happens!

Never forget that. Never forget that God is compassionate and merciful and that no matter how bad things are, and however slow and difficult the road is, change happens.

Alhamdulillah!

Gays for Gaza Demonstration in the Castro

2009-01-12T07:18:00.000-08:00

Saturday 10 January 2009

The rally for Gaza at the San Francisco Civic Center went well, pretty much as expected and by the numbers. Over a thousand, maybe 2 thousand ofr us rallied, we marched around downtown, came back to Civic Center. There were maybe a hundred Zionist demonstrators across the street by City Hall.

My signs were much photographed and appreciated. On one side

“Never Again”
must be a cry in defense
for all humanity.
If it is used to justify brutality against others
it makes us no better than our past oppressors.

And on the other:

German Jews 1939
Palestinians 2009
Property confiscated and destroyed
Food & basic medical care denied
Deprivation of jobs & livelihood
Religious discrimination/Racism
Mass Round-ups & Detentions
Mixed marriages outlawed
Squalid relocation camps
Children murdered
Checkpoints
Resistance labeled as “terrorists”
Settlements = Lebensraum
“Never Again” is for everyone!
What did we learn from the Holocaust?

The “Never Again” side, in larger print was clearly visible across the street when I held it up to the Zionists.

Where it got a little more interesting was in the Castro at 3:00 where Queers Undermining Israeli Terrorism in Palestine (QUIT Palestine) led a demonstration of GLBT support for Gaza. We had several dozen, maybe 50 people at Harvey Milk Plaza. What would have been a nice little hour, maybe an hour and half of waving signs and chanting was energized into so much more by a group of about a dozen Zionists across the street from us. We really should thank them for giving us so much focus and energy.

Having taken a lunch break between the two demos I got to the Castro a little late and when I arrived some of our folks were on both sides of the street. I decided to go where the fun was. The anger and vehemence were so – well, scary. They weren’t seriously dangerous then and there, but they were spitting out insults and names, making odd assertions and screaming “Lies!” at any disagreement.” One guy instantly asked me when was my last therapy appointment. One woman said, “Did you know all the Gay Arabs are fleeing to Israel?” A few, yes, most no. (And never mind the absurdity of her statement!) “Oh, you’re such a liar!” she yelled. Some of the women kept shouting “Remember Mumbai!” Which has what to do with Israel and Palestine? I guess that Muslims are scary terrorists – unlike the IDF bombing schools and hospitals in Gaza.

We eventually went back to “our” side of the street and not only did we have many more people, but we clearly had more gay people, and we even had more Jews on our side of the street. As for all those gay Arabs fleeing into Israel from oppression in their own lands, all the gay Arabs present were on our side.

Finally they rolled up their flags and went home, and after a little bit longer, so did we.

An Intefaith Appeal For Equality and Justice -- No on 8

2008-12-13T08:26:00.000-08:00

An interfaith community has to be open to considering a great variety of viewpoints, often some very contradictory ones. The Interfaith Movement is predicated on recognizing our differences and diversity. Where the arguments against same-sex marriage are based on theology any church or other religious group may indeed choose not to perform or recognize those marriages. But why should this affect others?

While marriage is an important part of the religious world, different religions regard it differently. Nor is religion necessarily an element of marriage. Non-believers have enjoyed secular, civil marriage for centuries. Many volumes of family, tax, and property law hang on the legal, secular contract of marriage. Our diverse religions have thrived, separately and collectively with the separation of church and state. Under those principles, no law can interfere with ecclesiastical rites and rules of marriage; but neither does any religious institution have the right to impose its particular rules on the state.

We read the same arguments against same-sex marriage repeatedly, but they ring false. All of the arguments against same-sex marriage are never argued as general principles, but uniquely applied against same-sex couples. Any two drunken, infertile atheists who don’t know each other’s names can get married at the All-Nite Chapel of Elvis as long as they are of opposite sex. And they can get divorced two days later, but two men or two women who are deeply committed, have been building their lives together, and perhaps raising children together cannot obtain the legal, contractual benefits that marriage offers.

Acceptance for gay men and women has been growing steadily. History makes one thing obvious: While same-sex marriage can be delayed it will not be stopped. Fight it with whatever sense of righteousness you like. Yes sometimes there is a religious duty to stand against an inevitable tide, but rather than fighting a divisive battle against people who want to solemnize their love, to take the responsible path of their own love and their own faith, doesn’t your church have other, more serious battles? What if the many millions of dollars supporting Proposition 8 were used to feed the poor, to house the homeless, to provide care for the ill? The money, energy, and resources spent on elections to deprive people of equal rights could instead have been saving lives.

Again, I ask as an interfaith activist to other inter-faith activists, what right does any religion have to force their religious rules and reasons on any other? And what kind of interfaith activists are we if our many agreements to disagree aren’t based on universal values of respect for the rights of others? We can agree to disagree on so many issues, but do not ask me to agree to be a second-class citizen subject to the whims of a majority. We’ve seen too often where that leads.

"Respect" after Proposition 8

2008-11-20T23:47:00.000-08:00

One has to wonder whether it’s sheer chutzpah or some utter vacuity that allows so many people who supported Proposition 8 to ask in saccharine tones why I can’t respect their rights when they’ve just dealt a blow to mine? Am I supposed to kiss the boot that just kicked me?

These writers profess that they like gay people but think that marriage is reserved for “one man and one woman” (and God bless the Mormons, relatively new to that concept, who are doing their best to assure us all that they’ve got it down!) But really, Dear, I don’t care if you like me. After all, many slave owners professed that they loved “their people” who were “practically like members of the family.” Of course they were still slaves. It’s very sweet in a condescendingly clueless and offensively hypocritical way. Actually it’s just hollow lip service. I don’t need your love. I got love! And my love and I just want our civil rights.

Your religion can say what it likes about marriage, or about anything. Men hunted dinosaurs into extinction when the universe was only 1,000 years old? Fine. Marriage is only between a man and a woman? Within your church that’s OK, sure!

But the fact is that marriage has been performed – utterly without religion -- in city halls and by justices of the peace all over this country since its beginning. In countries even more secular than ours, even in the atheist Soviet Union, marriage has been performed and recognized as a legal, secular institution, and that has never been questioned – until now.

Once the man I’ve loved and shared my life with for the last 14 years got a chance to make it legal your religious hackles are up. Fine. Have a prayer group about it, but when you’re whining about your religious freedom, remember that has to cut both ways. My religious freedom is not only as valuable to me as yours is to you, but the Constitution says both have to be considered equally. I don’t have the right to make you marry a person of the same sex, and you don’t have the right to force my relationship into your religious rules.

Democracy? Right… Democracy works when the rights of minorities are respected, and all citizens are equal. Majorities don’t get to vote away the rights of minorities. That’s how Jim Crow laws came into place. And it was the courts, not ballot initiatives, that struck them down. Yes, indeedy. _Brown vs. Board of Education_ and _Loving vs.Virginia_ overthrew the popular will of the majority. And thank you, Jesus!

The most amazing feature of this has been the parents protesting that they want to be the ones to decide when and how to inform their children about homosexuality – apparently by having them sing all about it on youtube and waving signs on the streets. OK, you taught your kids about it. Now can I get married?

Heck, all I really want is my rights so I’ll even offer a compromise. If you can change every law in the land that pertains to marriage so that instead of using the precious M-word that you want to keep so exclusively, you can replace it with another term, “civil unions” or whatever… that’s cool, too. But you have to change every law. Every last one. Get that precious M-word out of the law books and reserve it only for ecclesiastical application. Only then will “marriage” not be a legal definition of thousands of specific rights and responsibilities, but strictly a religious rite like you say it is. Then we really will be equal. Then we can really love and respect each other.

Then. Not yet. That’s an awful lot of law, Baby. You better get cracking if you want to feel the love!

Thank God for Sarah Palin!

2008-11-15T08:50:00.000-08:00

There have been certain individuals whose self-confidence and passion for what they do has gloriously outweighed their utter incompetence. Film aficionados are familiar with the delicious train wrecks that Ed Wood has put into film. (“Plan 9 from Outer Space” and “Glen or Glenda” are frequently celebrated as the worst movies ever made.) And classical music buffs should know all about the celebrated screech of Florence Foster Jenkins who rented out Carnegie Hall with her own money to put on shows that did sell out, but she never seemed to realize that her adoring fans were all there for the camp freak show, her vocal mangling of operatic arias.

And now we have Sarah Palin, truly the Florence Foster Jenkins of politics. Bless Tina Fey for her underlining of the travesty that governs Alaska. Bless Saturday Night Live and the Daily Show for offering clearer opportunities to laugh in the face of danger, when it seemed a rightwing nutjob with no qualifications could actually come within a sclerotic septuagenarian heartbeat of the presidency. Still even without the constructed satire, Palin herself was auto-satirical in those interviews with Katie Couric, in that meandering non-debate with Joe Biden, in everything from her pushing both for and against a famous bridge to nowhere to the inconsistencies and falsehoods that put McCain’s campaign on a bridge to nowhere.

It has gotten to the point where she doesn’t need a punchline or even a story. Just mentioning Sarah Palin’s name in progressive circles provokes smirks and giggles. And among centrists even raised eyebrows and groans of “Oh, God… What now?” are routinely attached to her name.

It’s hard to imagine that after Spiro Agnew and Dan Quayle the Republicans could sink any lower in their choices for VP. At least those guys won before they became national laughingstocks. But, gosh, y’know? Sarah’s Maverick misfires were makin’ her the national joke right out of the gate.

Already jockeying for a 2012 run Sarah is promising to stick around. Can we have a “Praise Jesus?” As a self-created caricature of the radical right, along with her con-artist snake-oil mix of savvy and ignorance, her erstwhile-secessionist First Dude, her purely academic commitment to abstinence before marriage, her millenialist church complete with a witch-hunter and pray-the-gay-away ministry, her hunting from helicopters, and journalistic illiteracy she is hitting all the political notes with the uncanny comic horror of one of Mrs. Jenkins’ concerts.

Ronald Reagan carefully built on Nixon’s Southern Strategy, cobbling together a coalition of Western Libertarians, Southern Fundamentalists, and Coastal moneybags. With so many conservative Republicans jumping ship and voting for Obama, we can all see that Palin’s hubris is doing a fine job of tearing that alliance apart, dragging the GOP on its knuckles back into the well-deserved wilderness it had previously earned with Barry Goldwater, and again with Watergate.

The Reagan Era was largely a fulfillment of Johnson’s prophecy that by signing the Civil Rights Act he was condemning the nation to Republican rule for a generation. That generation has not entirely passed, but this year’s election has tipped the balance, and if Alaska’s governor remains at the vanguard of the old guard, leading in the traditions of Captain Wrongway Peachfuzz, we may enjoy an unfettered renaissance of progressivism buoyed by the accidentally comic antics of Sarah Palin. Yee-haw!

Suicide, Slavery, and Sarah

2008-09-27T12:57:00.000-07:00

Statistics don’t have to be dull if they involve sex, death, and chocolate. In one of those research quests that leads all over the web I stumbled onto http://www.suicide.org/suicide-statistics.html which, about halfway down, has a table of states ranked by suicide rate. The US average is posted with the higher suicide rates above and the more life-embracing states below.

What stood out in this table is that the more do-in-yourself states toward the top of the table are pretty much “Red States” and guess where’s Numbah One? Our most suicidal population lives in Alaska! (Arizona ranks #11. On the other side of your presidential ballot, Illinois is #46 and Delaware ranks #34)

At the bottom of the list, the least suicidal states are the very Democratic turfs of New York (#50) and Massachusetts (#49), but wait! There is an even more Democratic – and less suicidal – population in Washington DC, happily at #51. Even California, famous as the state where dreams go to die of drug overdoses or a leap off the Golden Gate Bridge, is still at a life-affirming #42

Where’s the sex and chocolate here? Aside from the political implications – or maybe not so far aside – the Blue states are the one with the best chocolates and more relaxed sexual attitudes, and maybe those also help people to feel life is really worth living! There really is a serious connection here: It used to be common for a girl who “got into trouble” to end her life rather than face the stigma, and so-called “honor killings” happen even today in America. While it seems medieval, and thank God it’s become more rare, suicide of pregnant teens is still around. Even while that has become rarer, suicide among gay teens is still horribly high. GLBT children raised in homophobic cultures are so taught to hate themselves, so trapped in isolation, that they are much more prone to depression and suicide.

Another interesting correlation should be obvious enough, as the current geographic division is based on Nixon’s racist “Southern Strategy,” but the maps make it clear at:
http://sensoryoverload.typepad.com/sensory_overload/2004/11/free_states_vs_.html
Generally speaking the old slave states and territories are now “red states” and the “blue states” were indeed those that put their boys in blue uniforms against the grays.

Alaska isn’t on this map, but friends who’ve lived in Alaska report that it is indeed very racist. The Alaskan Independence Party quotes “President Jefferson Davis” urging in 1881 to preserve the struggle for the Confederacy. This atavistic bunch claims Sarah Palin as one of their own. She’s not a member, but her husband was from 1995 – 2002, until she got high enough in GOP circles for his membership in another party to be a tad embarrassing. Sarah’s cheery welcoming address to this clan of neo-Confederates is available on Youtube as are several clips of some AIPs enthusing over her progress in politics. As much as Michelle Obama has been grilled for her associations, it would seem only fair to ask Alaska’s “First Dude” about his links to these secessionists. Give him enough rope, and he just might hang himself. Just a figure of speech, First Dude! Don’t boost the stats!

The Gays vs. Muslims question

2008-09-18T09:46:00.000-07:00

One on of several e-lists I'm on a subscriber from Amsterdam asks a question that I get a lot, one way or another:

"I have never asked this, and I know you are involved in the Moslim thing yourself,but, it seems to me,that the Moslim people over here,and there are A LOT, Turkish and Morroccans, mostly, but a huge and powerful population, anyway-most of them really disrespect and do NOT tolerate Homosexuality. Period.
So...you write always like, "Oh, poor Moslims,"but,In my experience,as a Homo in a place where there are alot of very powerful and empowered Moslims, it seems that the thing I don't like,is that they mostly hate,discredit and disrespect Homos."

My answer:

This is a long and complicated problem, actually an intersection of several issues -- homophobia, racism, colonialism, immigration, and modernization. In early 2001 I realized the importance of studying mid-eastern and Muslim cultures and history and come that September what had been an academic fascination became a screamingly obvious need to struggle for mutual understanding to head off further violence. In the ensuing years I studied simply for the sake of knowledge, with no intent to convert, but the more I learned about Islam, the more it called to me. In that time I was making contact with GLBT Muslims and Muslim feminists, fully aware of the problems, and eager to see how they were being dealt with. Granted it's not often a comfortable place, but there is room for queer and feminist muslims and that room is slowly growing. While my interest in Islam and Islamic cultures and history was purely academic and I had no intention of converting, I did end up embracing the faith in 2003 and have been a practicing Muslim since then.

Yes, there is a lot of homophobia in most Muslim communities -- as there is in a lot of traditionalist religious communities of all types, certainly with the Christian Fundamentalists trying to take over America and in some of the Orthodox Jews who reacted violently to the Pride fest in Jerusalem. Still, there are religious communities within all these traditions that are more open and accepting. The MCC, Dignity, and other Queer Christians have made considerable progress in the last 40 years as have GLBT Jews. Queer Muslims in many countries are about where Queer Christian Americans were in the late 1960's.

The fact of homophobia in Muslim communities does not in any way negate or justify the racism against immigrant communities, or the oppression of neo-colonial regimes, or Israeli terrorism against Palestinians. And the more we use queer issues to define differences between "them and us" the more we become polarized into "them" and "us".

In fact Islam has historically been accepting of sexual diversity, but this changed in the colonial era -- not coincidentally the Victorian Era -- when homophobic laws from France and England were imposed on the colonized nations. Look at any historical map, and you will see that nearly all the Islamic countries were subjugated to European colonialism, and the early colonists were horrified at the rampant "sodomy" which they punished harshly once in power. If you look at a map of colonialism -- any political map from the early 20th century showing colonial holdings -- you may notice that, while, yes, there is a much longer history of tension between Christiandom and Dar-al-Islam, in recent centuries it has been overshadowed by the question of colonialism. Turkey may be the only Islamic nation not to have been colonized, but it was in fact a colonizer of Arab and other nations, both Islamic and Christian. And once released from Ottoman dominance, most Arab lands fell to the French or British.

Skipping ahead to the present our immigrant communities from Islamic countries are mostly fleeing the impoverishment and repression of neo-colonial states. Now the situation in the US is very different from that of European countries. It takes more money and wherewithal to cross the Atlantic than to cross the Mediterranean. Our Muslim immigrants are by and large more educated and ambitious, parlaying their own education and upper-middle class backgrounds in pursuit of the American dream. In Europe you have a lot more people who came in as cheap labor during boom years, and their descendents. (We have Latinos in that niche.)

Such immigrants, be they Morrocans in Rotterdam or Salvadoreños in California typically are not so invested in assimilating into a new culture as they are trying to preserve their old ways and hoping to go home with the money earned in the richer country. But life and connections overtake them and they stay in their new land, usually attached to ghettos or barrios where they cling to their old ways. Unfortunately this feeds into the racism that already exists in their host countries. In these insular ghettos the most conservative and traditionalist leaders and tendencies hold stronger sway. And, yes, that means there is a lot of homophbia in those communities.

There is a surprising bit of racism in the gay community, too. And there is no excuse for racism or homophobia. My love of my religion and defense of communities is not to suggest that they are simon pure nor should bigotry on anyone's part be excused or justified. But how do we deal with the problems of bigotry? It's all too common for outsiders to launch verbal attacks, saying for example that Muslims are misogynist and homophobic. Indeed, far too many are. But the religion does not call for that (despite what Wahhabi clerics say) and in my experience of meeting and working with Muslims, a great many are open and accepting.

The hatred and rejection of either side is polarizing, and leaves GLBT muslims in the crossfire. As a middle-aged white convert who's been fighting sexism and racism for years, fine, I signed up for this even if the Islamophobia has turned out to be much uglier than I'd anticipated. It's the Muslim GLBT kids who are very much caught in the middle that I worry for.

No religious community is monolithic or all of one mind on issues of sexuality. Rather than attacking the community and painting them all with one brush (as does Ayaan Hirsi Ali) causing further entrenchment and polarization I prefer the approach of working within the community to effect change. If everyone agrees loudly that Islam is homophobic, then the Muslims cling to their homophobia. If we respect the relgion, understand the Qur'an and the context of the Ahadeeth, and can argue that Islam is not inherently sexist, but that cultural accretion has burdened the religion with hateful baggage; that we can let go of those prejudices to become better Muslims, we have a better strategy to reconciliation of communities.

In the Netherlands of course you have huge, well-developed queer and Muslim communities so the tension is probably more articulated there than anywhere else. That also might also provide the most opportunity for people of good will in both communities to find common ground, build alliances, and work to ammeliorate the situation. There are GLBT Muslim organizations and gay-friendly organizations in the English speaking world, and in Lebanon, Turkey, Malaysia, and Indonesia, plus international groups operating in the Arabic and Persian languages, reaching out and supporting queers in those countries, plus diaspora Arabs and Iranians. I keep a list of such groups and links to them on my webpage at http://www.starjack.com/qmr.html and expect there is most certainly some GLBT and/or progressive/accepting Muslim group in Holland.

Here in the US, the Islamic community is much smaller (proportionately at least) and ethnically diverse. There are two Muslims in congress, both African-American, and both on the GLBT Equality Caucus! It is known at my mosque that I'm gay, and I recently brought my partner (who is not Muslim) to our annual inter-faith dinner. I know this is not representative, but one small opening, and there are many such openings taking place all over. We are organizing, we are building acceptance. It's slow, gradual change. It is arduous work, but the progress is already measurable. Seven years ago when the GLBT pride parade went by the Mosque at Jones and Market, people in the Mosque threw trash at the GLBT Muslims who were marching. Now they welcome my partner and me, and are listed as a welcoming house of worship for GLBT people.

If you really want to do something about Islamic homophobia in Holland I recommend that you seek out the GLBT Muslims and ask them where they need help. And if they have a website, please let me know. I'd love to add them to my online resource list.

A Lyrical Response to Sherry Jones' "Jewel of Medina"

2008-08-13T08:46:00.000-07:00

To the tune of “When I was a Lad”
From “HMS Pinafore”,
By Gilbert & Sullivan

I looked for a way to build my fame
And make sure that the world would know my name
My efforts all were failures and I must confess
I haven’t any genius and my talent’s less
(Ev’rything I tried at was an awful mess!)
But irritating the Islamic community
I’ll make myself a millionaire celebrity!

Now, Rushdie I will grant you is a brilliant man
And all the furor set off wasn’t in his plan,
But when he got his fatwa and was forced to hide
His sales were astronomicàlly multiplied
(His sales and recognition reached the sky worldwide)
And when the Ayatollah cried out for his head
Sir Salman hid beneath a very comfy bed.

When Ayaan Hirsi Ali lied to join the Dutch
She found that lying more could lead to very much
She lied about her background and her family
And then declared that Islam’s just misogyny.
(She swore that Muslim women never could be free)
And now she’s sitting very pretty in New York
With magnums of champagne and fancy cuts of pork.

A bodice ripper hacked out by Ms. Sherry Jones
Relates the life of A`isha in breathless tones
Professor Spellman called the research weak
And suggested it could put some Muslims in a pique
(This made the unknown writer the star of the week!)
And now the blogosphere is roiling angrily
For one hack writer symbolizing all that’s free.

The formula for fame is really very clear
I’m writing ‘bout the prophet as a drunken queer
And when my book’s rejected as a load of piss
I’ll blame my failure on the fear of terrorists.
(Fox News will have me on and boost my sales for this!)
And even though my writing is a lying mess
I’ll be declared a hero for the open press.

A "Muslim Reformation"???

2008-05-08T11:13:00.000-07:00

Westerners often talk about wanting a “Muslim Reformation.” In fact it has already happened, and the people who want it the most would probably agree – if they knew Christian history, let alone Muslim history, that it is not necessarily such a good thing.

In 1517 Martin Luther challenged the Catholic authorities with his “95 Theses,” calling for a more strictly Biblical approach to religion. His approach was more austere and literal than the current teachings of the Vatican. This started a new sect named at first after its founder, and the advent of Lutheranism (later broadened into various sects under the general rubric of “Protestantism”) started hundreds of years of religious wars and violence. Animosity between Protestants and Catholics still lingers in some quarters.

In the 1740’s Muhammad ibn Abd-al-Wahhab promoted a more strictly Quran’ic view of Islam. His approach was more austere and literal than the prevailing views of the time. This started a new sect named for him, “Wahhabism” and started a wave of violence among Muslims which persists to this day.

In Luther’s favor we can say that he cracked open a monopoly of theological influence and the temporal power that went with it. Abd-al-Wahhab, on the other hand brought his reformation to a religious culture that did not have an ecclesiastical hierarchy, and while Luther’s fortunes became linked with a variety of German princes seeking greater freedom from Rome, Abd-al-Wahhab linked his to the house of Saud. In both cases the financial backing of princes and merchants seeing the opportunities to expand their own power dovetailed with the new religious perspective. Luther’s works were immediately printed up and disseminated with unprecedented efficiency using the then new technology of Gutenberg’s printing press. Wahhabists, after a much slower start, have made efficient use of the internet.

A case could be made that The Islamic world is very much in need of a Renaissance – a flowering of intellectual and artistic freedom and exploration, or an Enlightenment – an affirmation of science and individual human dignity. In truth we’ve had those, too. The Abassid dynasty and the Andalusian caliphate represent periods of intellectual brilliance, little known to Eurocentric historians, except as stepping stones from the Classical Era to the Renaissance. Muslim intellectualism during Europe’s Dark Ages brought great philosophical and scientific advancements. Alas, every society has its downswings as well as its progress. Even in France the Enlightenment was followed by the Terror and Napoleon’s military empire, and while Germany was a center of learning and philosophy in the 19th century it went to a horrible nadir in the 20th. And now, Muslim countries are way behind, but after a couple of centuries of colonialism, intellectual and material resources being sucked out of Muslim nations to support Western development. Let’s look at the history, the economical and political issues at least as much as the religious culture!

So, please, no more “Reformations.” The Islamic world has enough problems already now. Cross-fertilization of ideas has generally helped progress on both sides, and as a Western Muslim with a foot in both worlds, I think both sides have a lot yet to learn from each other. But Western colonialism and continuing neo-colonialism have been a crippling problem in Muslim countries for the last couple of centuries, so if well-meaning Westerners really wants to offer historical lessons to the East I would urge them to look more closely at the history of the West and its colonialism before preaching to the colonized.

Lyin' Ayaan and the Moderate Muslims

2007-12-08T07:09:00.000-08:00

On the New York Times' Op-Ed page of Dec. 7, 2007 Ayaan Hirsi Ali asks "where are the moderate Muslims?" accusing us of silence in the face of various atrocities committed in the name of our religion. My answer to Ayaan:

(and yes, a short version of this was sent to their letters page!)

(1)

There are, in fact, many Muslim individuals (myself and many friends included) and organizations (CAIR, Muslims for Progressive Values, Al-Fatiha GLBT Muslims, etc....) who stand up against such travesties as Ayaan Hirsi Ali describes. We are not silent; we are ignored. The press loves to build up sensationalist stories, and neo-con hacks like Ayaan are promoted well-funded and highly organized "think-tanks."

(2)

While Ayaan is describing real crimes that do take place, these do not reflect attitudes or laws that are universal throughout Islam. Like many American "recovering Catholics" she has taken her own personal experiences from one terrible milieu and generalized that erroneously to the entire religion.

(3)

Her Qur'anic quote is taken out of context. Following the terrifying 24:2, ayah 24:4 sets a very high standard of evidence and a nearly equal punishment for those who bring accusations without four eye witnesses to the act of adultury. Then 24:5 offers clemency for all who repent and correct the situation. In Islam divorce and re-marriage are very easy. By these standards, someone really has to want a beating to get one!

In effect a much harsher pre-Islamic patriarchal society in 7th C. Arabia was being told that yes, adultery is terrible, but careless accusations are as bad, and there is plenty of room for mercy to absolve the adulterer.

God and Islam are merciful. Would that more Muslims paid more attention as they invoked "God who is all compassion and mercy."

(4)

Unfortunately, when we look at "Muslim" governments today we are looking at repressive feudal societies or military dictatorships propped up by petro-dollars or American aid (plus a very few radical regimes reacting against western exploitation) These repressive regimes invoke the Qur'an selectively with harsh punishments, but ignore the context and the mercy that fuller readings make obvious. Lacking any legitimacy they claim religious authority, but this is an old trick that "Christian" governments in the West pulled for centuries. These are not "Muslim" governments so much as they are neo-colonial dictatorships. Economics, militarism, and corruption are much more in evidence than any practice of Islam. But --uh-oh -- admitting that in the Western press would implicate the US, UK, and French governments (among other Western political and commercial powers) in propping up these self-described "Islamic" regimes.

As with most religions, the problem is not the religion itself, but self-styled leaders who abuse it to justify their own quest for power and wealth. As the Islamic world consists largely of once-colonized nations now under neo-colonial regimes, it is too easy to avoid issues of economic and social justice by blaming the religion.

(5)

A careful reading of the Qur'an and an understanding of Muslim culture and thinking through history shows that we have the capacity to solve these problems within our religion, our cultures, and history.

Denying the potential that Muslims have to heal our own problems serves to legitimize foreign intervention, but intervention and colonialism are the source of many problems in the Muslim world, they are certainly not solutions to anything.
There are moderates and progressives, faithful Muslims working within the Muslim community, using our faith as a key to the many problems that plague our community. People like Mike Ghouse, Pamela Taylor, El-Farouk Khaki, Omid Safi, Ani Zonnenveld, and Faisal Alam are speaking up, and addressing the same issues that we are taken to task for ignoring. But they are not ignoring the issues; they are ignored. Ayaan makes a dramatic and polarizing figure, very mediagenic to be sure, but a distraction from the answer to the question she asks: Where are the moderate muslims? We are everywhere. If reporters would look past neo-con press releases and go looking for the real story we are easily found.

"How the T got into GLBT."

2007-10-12T06:53:00.000-07:00

In his blogs Gay lawyer John Aravosis asked "how the T got into GLBT." He should study some GLBT history.

They're the ones who started our movement. It would be more accurate to ask how butch fags and lipstick lesbians overtook the movement started by radical trannies.

A drag queen, José Sarria ("The Widdow Norton") ran for San Francisco County Supervisor in 1962 as perhaps the first openly queer candidate for public office in the USA

Trannies at Compton's Cafeteria in San Francisco in 1966 started demonstrations that made huge strides in raising awareness of GLBT issues.

Trannies were part of the Stonewall uprising.

The pre-stonewall GLBT movement owes much to Magnus Hirschfield's "Scientific Humanitarian Committee" which pioneered our movement in Germany from the early 20th century to the beginning of the "Reich." Hirschfield was a transvestite who advocated for "third sex" gender variant men and women.

Trannies have ALWAYS been at the forefront of the queer rights movement.

Now some "incrementalists" think we can more easily win some rights by jettisoning our transgendered brothers and sisters. We'd never be where we are today without their courage, and this non-TG gay man would not want to be a party to the betrayal that is being advocated.

Let our TG friends wait for rights later? How much later? And will the gays and lesbians really remember the trannies later after we have been divided against each other for the larger group to take a moderate gain?

And when nelly men and butch women are fired for their gender non-conformity, will bosses say they weren't axed for being gay, but for gender variant behavior? If protection for gays only extends to the gays who can pass for straight, that's not much protection.

It is unfortunate that this issue did not get widespread attention sooner and that people who worked hard on ENDA are getting blindsided at the last minute, but "better late than never." We must never tell our TG brothers and sisters who have included both the most heroic and the most vulnerable among us that their rights are any less urgent than our own. Indeed without assurance of their rights, there is little assurance of ours.

Include Transgenders in ENDA!

2007-10-05T11:08:00.000-07:00

Dear Rep. Pelosi,

As a gay man and a longtime activist I am as eager as anyone to see civil rights legislation such as ENDA in place, but I am not willing to tell my transgendered brothers and sister s that they are any less entitled to job protection than I. Not only do they need the protection so much more than I do, but they have always been at the forefront of the GLBT movement. Cutting them out of this legislation would be a terrible betrayal.

As a longtime activist I have seen transmen and transwomen put their lives on the line for our larger community. In August of 1966 transgendered women at Compton’s Cafeteria in San Francisco’s Tenderloin rebelled against harassment in an incident that rallied the nascent queer community to new heights of activism. This was echoed in New York three years later at the Stonewall uprising, also started by trannies.

If we betray these sisters and brothers who have done so much and risked so much for us all, saying, later, later, when would that “later” be? If gay men and lesbians are willing to cast off our transgendered comrades now, when will they be willing to welcome them back in to the struggle for equality? And what perverse logic makes them even temporarily expendible?

The old logic of community organization is to include everyone. I have to wonder about the gays and lesbians who think that we should work for transgenders’ rights later. Later when? Will these “incrementalist” homosexuals be any more willing to fight for others’ rights later than they are now? Or will the protections afforded by civil rights for gays and lesbians satisfy them so that they forget our tranny friends as easily as they are willing to now?

I’ve seen enough transphobia in the gay community, not to mention just plain old self-satisfied complacency that I have little faith in this sort of incrementalism. I know politics often requires long treks by baby steps, but let us take those steps together, and never leave our brothers, our sisters, and often in this case, our heroes and pioneers behind.

Yours truly,

Jack Fertig

Republican Love

2007-10-05T06:52:00.000-07:00

An acquaintance has said that anyone who refuses to date members of a particular political party is being intolerant. This point has otherwise been raised, and on the surface it seems reasonable. Scratch a little deeper and it provokes what is in reality a more important question. What should we tolerate?

"Intolerance" is one of those words that depends much on context. My friends, family, and lovers have pretty well covered the world of colors, religions, nationalities, sexual orientations, genders, ages, shapes and sizes. (Granted, friends and family cover a wider range than lovers, especially on the last half of that list.) With firm belief in Dr. King's famous dream, I do indeed judge people not by any of those factors, but by the measure of their character.

Still, the bedroom is no place to be PC. We accept without question that it is quite all right to be sexually attracted only to certain physical types, even – if expressed respectfully – men or women only of a particular color, and we expect people generally to favor their own age group. And would our "tolerant" friend criticize specifying character traits? And what says more about a person's character than his politics?

The Republican Party has so exploited homophobia in its recent campaigns that when someone tells me that he doesn't support that, but votes for them for other reasons, it sounds too much like, "Please understand, Mr. Rabinowitz, I'm not anti-Semitic. I just support the National Socialists because they represent the best hope for Germany's future." And what are these other reasons? Despite their talk of fiscal prudence, from Nixon on, the Republicans have consistently erased government surpluses and/or plunged our country deeper and deeper into debt. When they talk about "getting government off your back," they are clearly only talking to the industrialists while workers, consumers, and our environment suffer from de-regulation, but the GOP scrambles to erode basic civil rights, further criminalize recreational drugs, and to stigmatize queers. As much as they rail against "bloated government bureaucracy" they continue to build ludicrously inefficient bureaucracies in the security sector while starving essential services like schools and hospitals.

Even if one accepts the military policies of our government, the Pentagon is obscenely wasteful and top heavy. And the machisto posturing of the Republican chickenhawks in the White House adds insult to injury while our youngsters are being sent to die for Carlyle, Halliburton, and Bechtel in Iraq.

Despite the fact that Nazi David Duke was a Republican candidate for Governor of Louisiana, and Prescott Bush was a big supporter of Hitler, it is true that generally comparing Republicans to Nazis confuses all proportion and perspective. So I'm not really comparing them when I say "Would it be ˜intolerant" to refuse to kiss a Nazi? I'm just saying you have to draw the line somewhere. Sure the Republican Party is better than the Nazis, but "better than the Nazis" is a mighty low standard, not nearly good enough. The GOP has done such damage that, while I am willing to discuss politics and argue points with people from nearly any political perspective, I don't feel ethically required to get snuggly with people who are collusive in destroying our civil liberties, environment, and economy.

A Queer Muslim Resource List

2007-05-04T08:30:00.000-07:00

Having discovered that that the Outlook Weekly in Columbus, Ohio carries my column, I checked out the paper and saw the May 2 issue had a series of articles on Gays and Religion. Seeing nothing about Gay Muslims I wrote in my disappointment and lack of surprise. Resources for GLBT Muslims are extremely meager. How, where would they find a story or someone to write it?

There are actually a number of resources -- organizations, yahoo groups, webpages with information and resources, but it takes some digging, as I've done over the years to put it all together, so I put up a GLBT Muslim Resource Guide on my website.

Making contact with others can be the most important thing we do. What I hear time and again from others is just what I experienced: The one really horrible thing about being queer is the loneliness and isolation that almost all of us have grown up with, and how that feeds the shame of just being who and what we are. I don't think anyone who hasn't experienced it can really understand how imprisoning and miserable that can be. The suicide rate among gay youth is extremely high. (Been there, hated it!) Just making contact with "People Like Us" can be so incredibly freeing. It is actually even humanizing.

I grew up isolated and miserable, even in an agnostic household! Coming to religion as an adult I've found it very empowering, but too many people grow up experiencing religion as a form of oppression. I've always known many "Catholic School Survivors" "Recovering Baptists" and now Muslims who grew up as queer, not just thinking that they were sick, disgusting, unloveable perverts, but also that they were hated by God (who is all love, compassion, and mercy!) and doomed to eternal damnation after enduring hell on earth. While a lot of gays have rejected religion, the sad truth is that religion rejected them first. Religious people have driven gays out of their faith communities and then accuse us of being anti-religious, selfish, hedonistic, and materialistic. Excuse me?????

It is not for me to tell anyone to come back to their religion or to emulate mine. Faith has to be a carefully thought out, personal decision. To choose or to reject faith out of fear or coercion is to miss the point of it altogether.

Our Abrahamite religions offer strong images of exile, stories of Abraham, Moses, Jesus wandering in the desert; Muhammed fleeing Mecca. Many of us have endured exile and each in his or her own way may come to a peaceful resolution with God -- or without. May God's peace be upon all the prophets, and may we all find God's peace whether or not we think we have found God. I don't know that anyone is capable of finding God, but do believe that God has found all of us and that our scriptures tell us that He honors our efforts.

So for Muslims struggling with being queer; for gays, lesbians, trannies, bis, etc... struggling with being Muslim, and for those who seek a more honest understanding of who we are, I hope -- InshaAllah -- this list will be of service.

Doing God's Work?

2007-01-09T12:32:00.000-08:00

Strange how -- in all the Abrahamite religions -- our sacred texts tell us to struggle withour own impurities, to love and accept others as they are, and to leave judgment to God. Yet so many seem to measure the power of their faith by whom and how stridently they can hate and condemn. As I understand Muslim, Christian and Jewish teaching, we are here to do God's work, and there is to be a strict division of labour:

Our duties are charity, generosity, prayer, educating ourselves and others; and judgment is to be left to God. Isn't that what it says in the noble Qur'an, the Gospels, and the Torah? But if we are indeed to do God's work, perhaps those who take on the duties of judgment see that there are more than enough people to do the human side of the task and have decided to help God more directly with His portion of the labor. The trouble is... when you strive to practice humility and non-judgment, it seems you have to at least act like you're not absolutely sure of any of these things. It looks much easier to be sure of your religious practices when you put judgmental contempt of others at the heart of it.

The paradox on my side of the argument is that being strong in my faith is being able to admit that I really know nothing and am stumbling about in hopes of doing the right thing. On the other side, being “strong in one’s faith” is easily expressed in the “strength” of machismo and combativeness. The appeal of being assertive and confident, strong in the old-fashioned sense of virile assurance is obvious. Pat Robertson and Osama bin-Laden at that rate have an easy sell, just like the old Charles Atlas ads in the comic books… Tired of looking like a wimp? Flex your muscles and be guaranteed a place in heaven! Do humility and charity have a chance against that? They can peddle a faith that looks like Schwartznegger in the role of divine savior. The best I can do looks more like Woody Allen in drag as Mother Theresa.

But the scriptures do counsel introspection, humility, and charity. We’re told that whoever judges or presumes to know whom God will favor is sure to be condemned. And another paradox: Just quoting scripture on the subject seems to presume that I know the final criteria, even when I admit that I can’t.

No wonder it looks so much easier to hate, and to be sure of one’s place in heaven for hating the right people.

Boycott "World Pride" in Jerusalem

2006-06-25T12:21:00.000-07:00

To celebrate “Love Without Borders” in a city ringed with checkpoints to keep its natives divided and exiled is ludicrous! This event makes it appear that LGBTI people support the occupation and we should do our best to show this support does not represent our entire community.

I’m the grandson of German Jews, raised on stories of how relatives were stripped of their citizenship, denied their professions, driven from homes to relocation camps, badgered and humiliated. The Shoah overshadows the horrors that Jews suffered in Germany before the Wansee conference that initiated the Holocaust, but Palestinians now endure the same treatment that our families endured in Germany in the late 1930’s. As long as there is no organized, massive genocide on the scale of the Shoah, and children and other innocents are “only” killed as “collateral damage” or from malnutrition and lack of medical care due to the many checkpoints and curfews and other forms of economic strangulation, yes, the Israeli government can honestly claim that they are better than the Nazis. But since when is “better than the Nazis” an adequate standard?

That people are so abused in the name of Judaism disgusts and horrifies me. We must oppose the abuse of Palestinians and support the boycott of Israel. As GLBT people who seek justice in the world we must then support the boycott of World Pride in the occupied city of Jerusalem.

"Never Again!" is an important assertion. We can never tolerate bigotry or genocide. But what happened to us we should be making sure it never happens again -- not just to us, but to anyone.

Muslim Opera?

2006-06-03T19:00:00.000-07:00

Why shouldn’t a Muslim enjoy opera? Especially one that’s written about a Muslim?

This week I went to two operas. The San Francisco Opera production of “Madama Butterfly” and the Oakland Opera Theater’s “X: The Life and Times of Malcolm X”

Madama Butterfly is a nice opera, although horribly overdone. No fault of the cast (Good, not brilliant.) Give it a rest!

San Francisco Opera is one of the top companies in the US. As such it has huge budgetary obligations as well as huge resources. Those obligations force it to stick mostly to mainstream operas that bring in large audiences tending to the lowest common denominator of opera fans, which means doing a few very popular operas very often and not taking big artistic risks. Pamela Rosenberg tried the risks and after a few years decided she’d rather go be in Germany close to her grandchildren. Yeah, right. The new general director offers some promise. I’ll keep an open mind, but let’s please not OD on Puccini! (I like Puccini, but enough already!) http://www.sfopera.com

Malcolm X was a real treat, even if the writing and composition of it is a bit uneven. As a small company with a small house they are able to take artistic risks, to innovate, and to bring in operas that are daring, off-beat, and appealing to a more independent crowd. I’ve enjoyed very much their productions of Philip Glass’ “Akhnaten” and “Four Saints in Three Acts” by Vergil Thompson & Gertrude Stein. The cast includes some excellent singers, especially Duana Demus as Malcolm’s mother and Joseph Wright as Malcolm. (Mr. Wright usually sings with the San Jose Opera which has an excellent reputation for finding and grooming brilliant young voices. It truly is the place to see tomorrow’s stars today. http://www.operasj.org/ ) Ms. Demus is also very charming and gracious off-stage! She will be performing in the San Francisco Lyric Opera’s production of Il Trovatore in September. Details at http://www.sflyricopera.org/

Oakland Opera Theatre, with its technical innovations, clever staging (brilliant use of a small space!) and selections of little done operas that carry big ideas, is a pioneer of 21st century opera. They don’t follow the conventions (such as they are) of the European regie-theatre techniques that are so popular over there and generally derided as “euro-trash” in the states. Actually I like those general principles and have seen some brilliantly successful regie-theatre productions. But Oakland Opera is in another direction using very American

While discussing local opera companies I should mention Palo Alto’s West Bay Opera which is based in a very tony suburban community not far from Stanford University. They make excellent use of the local resources and produce some excellent operas. http://www.wbopera.org/ Berkeley Opera is in a similar position and a more free spirited locale where they also take some innovative directions, especially with updating librettos in translation. http://www.berkeleyopera.org/ In July Berkeley will be doing “Girl of the Golden West,” yeah, Puccini, but it’s rarely done and I’m looking forward to seeing it for the first time.

If you can, go see “X” and you may see why I insist that the Oakland Opera Theatre is one of the most exciting opera companies around. www.oaklandopera.org

Iran, continued

2006-05-29T12:49:00.000-07:00

27 April

“Isn’t Iran Dangerous?”

I feel very safe here. This country is amazingly hospitable. People are very warm and friendly. The food is so good, and the men both beautiful and charming, the only danger here is to my waistline and to my libido.

Today, as the news filters down to me, it seems that Condoleeza Rice is threatening tighter sanctions against Iran. Our tour guide, Reza, shrugs. Iran has friendly neighbors a seacoast, and the ability to sell oil cheap. How much can American sanctions do?

Esfahan is a modern, bustling cosmopolitan city. An Armenian church here has an exhibit on the Genocide waged by the Turks. Photos, documents, and posted text were horrifyingly reminiscent of the Shoah, the Nazi extermination of Jews. One can easily imagine the Nazis having studied from the Turks. (To be fair, there was a lot they could have learned from the British and Americans as well!)

Over lunch we discuss the political situation. How far will America go? There is no real danger in the immediate future, but the Bush League needs to keep congress Republican and the surest way they can scare people into continued support is to create heightened war fear. An attack on Iran will precipitate retaliations and create support for a tightened security (which is to say, police) state. The timing of the political cycle makes an attack likely in September, certainly no sooner than August. We are in no danger here and now, but we are horrified at what our government is moving towards.

May 3
En route from Tehran to Shahrud

The group tour is over. Alhamdulillah! Altogether it was a very good group of people, but two weeks in close and fairly constant proximity was getting on my nerves and I was getting short with a few of our company, which they didn’t deserve.

Ten days of travel to catch up on… It’s way too much. These have been the most dizzying two weeks of my life. Yazd is an ancient city. Some say Damascus is the only city on earth that has been longer continually inhabited. The streets of the old Town center are largely covered over with the same mud and straw that the old houses are built of. High archways and occasional breaks for light and air keep the streets from feeling claustrophobic. At the edge of the desert one can feel that heat of day and the cool of night that make such covering necessary.

In a number of cities out in the desert the Mosques have subterranean worship spaces beneath the regular ground level worship areas. When the weather gets too hot or cold to stay above ground the faithful retreat to the chambers below. Among the covered streets of old Yazd are old hotels and homes that hide behind dark walls. Doorways feature a pair of doorknockers, one long, hanging bar gives a loud masculine thump, and its opposite, a lighter circular knocker that offers a more lady-like rat-a-tat. The phallus and yoni make it obvious which knocker is for which sex, and the sounds, easily distinguished to the residents alerts them to the visitor’s gender so a proper greeting can be made.

The ancient hotels are being refurbished; beautiful rooms around deep courtyards have translucent doors offering both illumination and privacy to the visitor. In one such hotel, we had lunch in a huge tented courtyard. A Green soup with lentils and garbanzos and a surprising lemon flavor called “shouli” (In Tehran it’s called “shourbah.”) was utterly delicious. I was told to try the “Barely Soup” which was of course misspelled barley soup, and it would have been quite impressive if I’d sampled that before the heavenly shouli. The main course was fessanjun, chicken cooked in a sauce of pomegranate juice and ground walnuts. I’ve since had a few fessanjuns, but none as good. I will have to find recipes for Shouli and Fessanjun. If I can make them nearly as good as the Yazd hotel does friends will be begging for invitations.

The Zoroastrian Fire Temple was built in 1934 in a style reminiscent of bungalows in Los Angeles from the same era. A 1500 year old sacred flame deserves better. The Zoroastrian Silent Towers where sky burials were performed were properly impressive, although they hardly seemed “towers.” A pair of tall hills were crowned by short squat round structures. Broad bases, shoulder high walls, and open to the sky this is where the dead were brought. The Zoroastrians consider flame, earth, rain, and water to be sacred, not to be polluted with dead bodies so here they were brought to be picked clean by the birds. The clean bones were ground to dust in a pit in the center of each “tower.” Since the practice was banned, the local Zoroastrian community buries their dead in concrete blocks so as not to pollute the earth.

A common architectural feature in Yazd is the wind tower. Everywhere you see boxy towers with vents on all sides, designed to pull cool air down into warm houses. I got to stand under one and feel the rush of wind coming down a shaft and the pull of wind going back up, but it does move the air about and help keep a place cool. I still want to see a diagram of whatever baffles and vents make this work.

Yazd also features a famous candy shop where we loaded up on sweets. “Baklava” (a candy with no phyllo) came in various flavors including saffron and coconut.

En route to Esfahan we saw a truck loaded up with camels being taken to slaughter for meat. Larry, who works as a sommelier for a group of Thai restaurants, is a bit of a foodie and would be intent on sampling camel – which we heard a bit late is served only in Yazd – and sheep brains. Larry finally got some sheep brains in Tehran, and liked it very much. I’ve tried them previously and once was enough. But I’m game to try anything, and maybe we’ll find camel meat in Mashhad?

“Esfahan is half the world,” according to an old Persian saying, and it is one of the most beautiful cities I’ve ever seen. The main capital of the Safavid dynasty it has a number of bridges straddling a river that is too shallow to be navigable, so no matter that the arches supporting the bridges are too close and narrow for any ship to pass through. The Kharjo Bridge has two levels. Down below people can hide in the arches from the sun, and hop over narrow channels of water. Up above is a walkway and in the middle are balconies where the Shah Abass I could listen to musicians playing on a broad platform below. The “33” Bridge, named for the number of arches is not quite as beautiful, but has a teahouse at the end near our hotel. Nick was down there at every opportunity flirting with the local boys. I went looking for him and was stopped by four men, one of whom was especially sexy in a young Bob Hoskinsish/Daddy Bear kind of way and his friends were also very charming. They insisted I join them and we chatted a bit, challenging my very meager Persian vocabulary, but with a pocket dictionary we were able to establish that they were all science teachers, married and with so many daughters and sons. I was able to squeeze out, “Na zan, na dochtar, na pesar – azad e!” No wife, no daughters, no sons – I’m free! I may not be so free as all that, but it hardly seemed the time or place to go into details.

Later in Tehran my guide, Ali, would grill me on my history with women, and from its paucity figured to ask “Boyfriends?” I fessed up and he pointed out the park by the theater square where he said certified homosexuals were authorized to meet. He said that doctors would test to see if someone was genetically homosexual or just looking for opportunities. Medically verified homos could cruise the theater park. Too bad I didn’t’ bring my genetic certification along with my shahadah certificate! Yeah, right. I told Ali that there is there is no medical difference between gays and straights, and one can only tell by asking, and hoping for an honest answer. Couldn’t help blurting out that I prefer to go by a taste test.

Esfahan is all taste and elegance. The Imam Square is said to be the largest municipal square in the world. It is huge. The Imam Mosque sits at one end, tilted about 45 degrees from the edge of the square, opposite the far distant main gate. At the midpoint of the long sides the 18th century Ali Qapu palace built for Abass I faces a Mosque built for his father-in-law. The Palace is about six stories high and the top floor features a music room. In the arches of the ceiling are cutouts of musical instruments. This room is a gorgeous example of the Persian Renaissance.

The Sheikh Lotfullah Mosque across from it is a gorgeous little jewel box entered through a winding passage that wraps around it. In addition to creating a sense of a very separate sacred space, it obscures the fact that like the Imam Mosque, the qibla is angled askew from the faces of the square.

All around the square is the Isfahan Grand Bazaar. Most of what I saw there was very touristy, but a carpet shop there was owned by a very cheerful, welcoming bunch of guys who were friends of Jerry’s, they gave us a quick education on Persian Carpets and – we were told – gave us excellent prices. Mike later met a son of a carpet dealer who appraised his purchase at twice what he paid, so perhaps we did get great deals.

May 4

Shahrud

On our way towards Mashhad we stopped in what seems a relatively quiet little town. The main streets are still busy at night with people out walking and socializing. I’m in a two star hotel that I would politely describe as adequate and Elias (Happy Birthday, Darling!) wouldn’t tolerate for a minute. When I realized there was no toilet paper I didn’t even bother to ask. There is the ubiquitous hose for washing oneself, but however do they dry off? If they use water instead of paper why doesn’t one see wet pants coming out of bathrooms? Perhaps I could ask my guide but it seems such a funny question.

At first I felt a perfect idiot for not packing little packs of Kleenex, but tissues are ubiquitous here, in hotel rooms and on restaurant tables where they are to be used as napkins. I make sure to replenish my supply.

Leaving Tehran Ali told me he’d been replaced and was switching me over to another guide. That was a bit of a relief. When Ali outed me he kept asking why I don’t like women, asserting again and again how beautiful they are, and how much he loves women. Thank God he didn’t pick up on that chorus the next morning. I had been beginning to wonder who he saw trying to convince. Or was it his relatively gracious way of assuring me he wasn’t available to my desires? No worries there. There are many exquisitely beautiful men here, but there are also many others, including Ali,

My new guide, Mahdi, is easily in the former camp, and in any camp he could pitch my tent whenever he likes! He is gorgeous, charming, very professional and apparently rather religious. I expect our relationship to stay strictly professional. Still, he is good company, especially after a day with Ali.

A long drive through the desert yesterday along the Silk Road brought us by a number of caravanserais and ice houses. Mahdi offered to stop and show me a caravanserai. But we made that stop a few days ago. We also saw ice houses in Yazd and near Susa. Those deep pits are covered with domed or conical structures, and a staircase leads down to where the ice is saved from winter through the summer months.

Other stops included one of the oldest mosques, perhaps the oldest in Iran dating from the 8th century. I’m still learning to distinguish between Seljuk and Mongol brick decorations. Mahdi pointed out the Sassanid architectural basis that informed early mosque building. Then on to some pre-historic digs, and then a shrine to a sufi sibling to the 7th Iman.

In Shi’ite Islam there were/are 12 Imams, spiritually pure descendants of Mohammed (peace be upon him) who were the true successors, not to be confused with the usurpers – as the Ummayad and Abassid caliphs are regarded here – who murdered Ali, then Hassan and Hussein. (Martyrdom is big here, but more on that later.) The 12th Imam disappeared into a cave and is to return with Jesus to initiate an era of peace and help in the final judgment. This last bit corresponds to the Sunni version with Jesus and the yet unidentified Mahdi. My guide Mahdi asked how Sunnis can believe in the 12th Imam but not the first 11? It seems a false presumption in logic that I find rife in popular theology, not just among Muslims. Of course the illogic of that question does not answer either way the question of the Imams. I remain Sunni, but open minded.

Between Esfahan and Tehran our group had stopped in Qom, the theological heart of the Islamic Revolution. We met with a very congenial mullah who made a gracious speech, answered some questions, and made us all feel very welcome. As the lone Muslim I was allowed to go into the shrine of the Lady Fatima, who was the daughter of one imam and sister to the next. Architecturally, I assured my fellow travelers, it was nothing new; but the spiritual power in that place was amazing. I prayed with the other men inside and walked around in a meditative daze, tears coming to my eyes. After this experience I’m even more looking forward to the shrine at Mashhad.

Khomeini’s tomb was a huge surprise. To the western imagination it would be expected to be very severe and militant. It’s actually… well, still under construction and what there is yet of the architecture inside looks and feels more like the underside of a stadium under construction, but it was filled with families and children running and playing, more like a playground than a mausoleum. The Ayatollah had wanted his final resting place to be a relaxing, enjoyable place for families and the old man got what he wanted. There was ample space to pray and here the men and women were separated only by a waist high fence. Sometimes women would sit with their husbands and children in the “men’s side” showing a relaxed attitude here about gender apartheid.

Mike and Maggie were taking pictures of little girls in white robes and cowls, looking like baby nuns. The girls were crowding at the fence, eager to be photographed and making such a ruckus I worried about trouble. Jerry, our very experienced and very protective leader was sitting right there, cheerily engaged in conversation with an Iranian and ignoring the chaos right in front of him, so it must be OK. Packs of boys also wandered through, eager to be photographed. Little wolfpacks ravening for attention mugged for my more accommodating companions. I kept my attention to costume and custom, and more usually to men, not boys. “I love you! I love you!” The little boys shouted sassily. “But will you respect me in the morning?” I retorted with a smile. Packs of boys are the same everywhere, bratty, impudent, and charmingly aggressive in that way that only pre-pubescent boys can get away with. Maybe I should have taken more pictures of them.

As I write this I imagine the possibility of American (or Israeli?) bombs, and how ignorant yahoos would greet news of bombing Khomeini’s tomb, as if it were a great symbolic victory. It would just be families killed on a holiday. Little girls slaughtered in their white uniforms, little boys incinerated, never again to crow, “I love you!”

Nearly next door is the Martyrs’s Cemetery, a huge field of graves, some of the two million who were killed in the eight year war with Iraq. Just after the Iranian revolution the United States and Germany quietly backed Iraq’s attack on the Islamic Republic. Iran prevailed, but here was the cost. How can you make sense of such loss? Each grave was marked with the word shahid, “martyr.” Assuring families and friends that their beloved went to heaven defending not just the nation, but the faith itself. Martyrdom is extolled here. With so much death, how else can the loss be assuaged? But what does this glorification of the dead say to the young who are living, and especially under the threat of war? When Ahmadinejad says that thousands of suicide bombers, eager for martyrdom will respond to any American attack, I believe him. The war threats made by my government fill me with such horror and revulsion that extreme retaliation is easy to imagine.

It’s easy to be cynical in America about the stupidity of dying in war. In the last sixty years our only wars have been those of our own aggression on foreign soil. No American has died in defense of our country since World War II, and arguably even then only at Pearl Harbor. (Granted, one might include the firemen and police who died heroically at the WTC attack. I tend to categorize them more with other firemen and cops who die in the line of duty. In deference to those who lost loved ones, I would not make an argument of my opinion, made far from the catastrophe.) But here in these rows upon rows, miles of graves of boys who died in earnest defense of the motherland, one can only be profoundly moved – and scared for the sons and nephews who were raised to honor martyrdom over all, now ready to face their own.

The Qur’an says that martyrdom is indeed a guarantee to Paradise, but that nobody can seek it out. Being killed while fighting for life is very different from seeking death. I pray that this distinction is clear to young Iranians who may have to defend their motherland. I pray even more that it won’t come to that.

Mahdi tells me he served in the war. He doesn’t say anything to me about US complicity with Iraq’s attack – perhaps only because he doesn’t want to embarrass me? But he does talk about how Germany provided chemical weapons to Iraq, and then made a big show of humanitarianism as Iranian victims were welcomed to German hospitals where effects of the weapons could be evaluated. One can see a lot of men in their forties limping, or otherwise maimed. They’re not conspicuous, but if you pay attention you will see that there are more than there should be.

May 5
Mashhad

The Adhan is echoing over the darkening skies just after sunset. I’ll pray soon, although I’m just back from prayer at the Imam Reza Shrine. Cameras are not allowed inside, and after what I saw and experienced I’m glad for that. The space, a sequence of courtyards leading to the Shrine, is magnificent. The floors of the courtyard are marble and so clean it feels wrong to be wearing shoes. Bins full of plastic bags are at the edges of carpeted areas so we can carry our shoes in the mosque and the shrine, to put them down cleanly as necessary. Through the crowded courtyard we come to the Shrine which is mobbed. I push through, wanting not to knock aside men who are standing in devotion, but taking my cues from others rushing to and from the tomb of the Imam.

Of the 12 Imams, only one is entombed in Iran so Imam Reza’s shrine is the holiest place in all the country. Not just Iranians, but Shi’ites from all over, and at least an occasional Sunni, come to pay respects. I find my way through the mob into a press of bodies crowding to the tomb. Giggling little boys are being passed over heads to kiss the gold and silver walls containing this near descendant of Muhammed (pbuh)

I get close and take hold of the grillwork, making my prayers, and feeling the crush of bodies. I am conscious in a way that is almost, but not quite sexual, of the men pressed all around me. I complete the prayers that I am assured will be granted and let go of the tomb. Sliding out through a mob eager to take my place.

Mahdi is nearby, holding my shoes. He is ever deferential, encouraging me to make decisions, to tell him what I want to do, but all I want is to experience the amazing purity and power of this place. He asks if I want to pray and points out a place where I can do that. After my prayers we exit to the courtyard and sit against a wall.

The energy of this place is somehow both calm and frenetic, like the tireless whirling of atoms in constant motion. We sit in contemplation, and Mahdi asks me to describe it. Curious about my impressions? Wanting to learn the English words? I look across the designs in the tiles, seeing stars and flowers and Qur’anic scriptures all around, as if they express all the mysteries of the universe and the simplest, truest mystery: Love God and serve humanity; love humanity and serve God.

The serenity and purity of this place is beyond description. I feel such open love in my heart that I can understand why honeymooners come here. How wonderful it must be to find this feeling and to be able to express it in physical intimacy.

Jerry had asked me what I thought of Qom – or was it the Imam Mosque in Esfahan? When I told him how astounding it was, he said it was designed to inspire. Of course. That’s the purpose of ecclesiastical architecture and why I love it so. And how, he asked – and this at least was at Qom – does it compare to the Vatican? It’s entirely different.

Because of the size and the grandeur the Imam Reza Shrine offers a fairer comparison, or should I say contrast, to the Vatican. This is so much more mystical and liberating to the soul. St. Peter’s is a vanity project with names and faces all over it. The only personage acknowledged at this shrine is the Eighth Imam, but while he is a focus and the center of attention, one is sucked into and released from the gravity of his tomb to contemplate the gifts of God in a setting that is open to the heavens, and decorated with rich designs of stars, flowers, and sacred text. Love God and serve humanity; love humanity and serve God. People of all sorts rush by to and from prayer, as effortless and busy as the tide, in a wash of devotion. Next to this the St. Peter’s Basilica seems, dark and claustrophobic, petty and egotistical, a museum of statued piety crowded with tourists and flashbulbs.

“Are you a Muslim?” a guard had asked when I first entered the shrine. No tourists here; only the faithful. Exclusionary perhaps, but it is so mobbed already. My answer yes was enough for him. And if every entrant is taken at his or her word, how exclusionary is it? Simply declare your faith, and if you’re lying only God can judge.

Mahdi and I pray again. I finish my prayer and wait for Mahdi, standing, watching others in prayer, children in play, families and friends walking across the courtyard, tile patterns of white calligraphy on blue, and stars and flowers, all proclaiming God’s glory. It is all beauty and purity beyond description.

May 8
Between Gorgan & Tehran

The toilet in Shahrud had no paper. In Mashhad there was paper, but no toilet. Actually, here was no western style toilet, but a “squat,” a porcelain hole in the floor. I imagine that regular use of those would give one stronger knees than I seem to have. In Gorgan there was a choice, but where there is a western style toilet here they seem to prefer the low squat models with weak flushes. There have been all sorts of annoying problems including noises that continue through the night. At Gorgan the shower curtain, a midi length that shielded one side of a corner stall, did nothing to separate the shower from the toilet, explaining the constant puddle around the john and the wetness of the seat if one’s not prepared.

Mahdi lauds the material and technological achievements of the government. He thinks Ahmadinejad is doing a perfect job. I see no point in arguing, and such discussions as we have on social issues – including homosexuality and teen pregnancy – are interesting for perspective, but we’ll never see eye to eye.

We had gone back for a second visit to the shrine of Imam Reza. It is still amazingly splendid, but I was disappointed by my own expectations. The first time I’d approached in awe and wonder; the second time I was hoping for a mechanical repetition of a mystical experience. It’s still quite beautiful and even in my disappointment a kind of serenity.

Gorgan is up towards the Caspian Sea in a humid forested region they call a jungle, or more correctly “jangal” which turns out to be the Persian word for “forest.” From the urban chaos of Tehran to the open desert spaces it is easy to see why this lush green wood is so beloved by the Iranians. The drive from desert to thick forest reminds me of California, and I am glad to be heading towards home soon.

My eyes have been opened, my soul has been touched and I am exhausted… sounds like great sex, which is the one pleasure Iran has not offered. No, I’ve also missed out on good newspapers. For all its wonders this is an authoritarian theocracy. The chadors and scarves are a constant reminder, as is Mahdi’s refusal to believe that there could be any, well, certainly no more than a few gays here where it is very much “against the religion.” In many ways Iran reminds me of the USSR, although granted that it functions much better.

San Francisco
May 29, 2006

Caught up on my work, and editing this diary, it seems I’ve overlooked so much. There was so much more than I could possibly tell, and memories will come back, perhaps to this record.

Mahdi took me to the airport with a very friendly farewell, and offered greetings to my partner. Even if, at a socio-political level he seems very rigid and conservative, at a more personal level he is very warm and accepting. “You go to your grave alone” he said, meaning nobody can judge another. He refuses to get into arguing or insisting that he’s right and you’re wrong, but welcomes hearing other perspectives. Somehow I find this typical in Iran. The papers are heavily censored and only relate the government line, the laws are repressive, but the people are warm, friendly, and accepting. Even at the Muslims-only shrine, a simple question and a hopefully honest answer opens up to a smile and a welcome.

It was a fantastic privilege to visit Iran, and I hope that with a better knowledge of Persian I can go back in a couple of years.

Four Amazing Days!

2006-04-23T06:54:00.000-07:00

April 20 7:30 PM
Ahvaz

An amazing day in Tehran!

After a fitful sleep (Jetlag improving, but still not over it.) we went past the old American Embassy, photographing damage to the walls from 1979 and the anti-American murals and slogans. Then on to a series of museums.

The Museum of Archaeology had some beautiful Elamite and Achemenean pieces. Some went as far back as 5000 BCE. The pieces that most caught my interest were the bull figurines that spanned the Taurean age (roughly 4,000 – 2,000 BCE) and then the ram figures that started appearing just after 2,000 BCE, beginning the Age of Aries! There were other pieces that were fascinating for their design and beauty, and some for their amazing playfulness.

Next to it was the Museum of Islamic History. Again, a wonderful collection, but the sweet surprise was a small section devoted to astrological tools and relics. They had quite an exhibit of 12th century astrolabes, including a few disassembled to give a clue as to how they work. There were also some gorgeous lacquered plaques showing the signs of the zodiac and a medieval Arabic astrology text. Say what you like about Iran, but what other government sponsors a permanent astrological exhibit in one of their major national museums?

Another surprise – at the main entrance to the general exhibit was an illuminated page with an icon of Muhammed (peace and blessings be upon him) at the top of the page.

After that we went to the Museum of Glass and Ceramics. Housed in what used to be the Prime Minister’s residence – a building with a very 19th century Persian façade and a gorgeous interior partly inspired by art nouveau, the collection was nearly upstaged by its setting. But the collection was brilliant with glassworks covering seven millennia of local history. For all the beautiful works, my favorite was a small monochromatic pitcher in shades of mauve, ranging from the nearly black of its handle to the nearly white of its widest diameter. There were also some sin-haft trays. Sin-haft is a Persian new years’ tradition collecting seven traditional items that all start with the letter S. Our guide, Reza, confirmed my suspicion that each of the items corresponds with one of the planets, but he was not clear about what item invokes which planet.

After a full lunch (grilled quail) we went back to Mehrabad airport where men and women have separate entrances. At the security gates, if there is any frisking necessary they have women guards for the women, and men for the men. Not that it seems to matter at that point, everyone just barrels through the metal detectors, peeping away, and are told to continue through. Once checked in we go through a more serious security gate, also gender segregated. I would have loved to get a photo of the big yellow sign that located the “Men Inspection,” but photography is very strictly forbidden around airports.

The one-hour flight to Ahvaz took us over desert and the Zagros Mountaints. Descending we saw the ruins of an old town – but how old? When Iraq invaded they bombarded hundreds of towns. Discussions of the Iraq-Iran war that stretched through so much of the 1980’s reminded me of how hard the US had worked to organize a military response to Saddam Hussein when he invaded Kuwait. But the US had supported and supplied Saddam when he invaded Iran. Of course any talk about American commitment to international principle is ludicrous. Here such hypocrisy is especially obvious and rankling.

As we approached Ahvaz we could see oil wells with towers burning off… waste? “excess”? The city itself looks dirty and run down. No tall buildings. Some gorgeous mosques. Our hotel is right on the river which makes for a pleasant walk. Throughout the riverside park there are groups of young men smoking hookahs. Some were lying all over in piles like puppies. In the US that would look so gay. Here, of course, nobody thinks anything of it. The men are all around 20 years old, slim, and beautiful. By and large they are darker then the Tehranis and most of the people here are Arabs, which helps me to communicate a little more easily. If I were into younger men, the temptations could be very dangerous. A very few older men, and fewer women, the women always accompanied by a man and sometimes children, would walk down the path, but none had stopped to hang out.

After a while one of these boys called out to me, “Hey, Mister!” and offered me a hookah. “Na Merci” I called back to him and mimed taking a hit off the hookah and coughing horribly. Then I noticed two or our group, Maggie and Brian, sitting on a mat, sharing a hookah. I joined their company, and some boys came over. The handsomest of the lot started asking questions – in his very poor English, which he seemed intent on improving – about us (Age? Married? Religion? Maggie, who is single and Jewish decided it would be smarter here to be married and Buddhist.) and he asked about America. The boys agreed heartily when I made derisive gestures about Bush. They seemed no fans of local government either.

Throughout this exchange the crowd grew, and after awhile one guy said he needed his mat back. We got up and then one kid started demanding money. Brian offered him a small bill, but the kid rejected it and all the guys lined up confrontively. One wanted to be paid for use of the hookah and the mat. Seems Brian and Maggie had offered to pay at the beginning, but were told they didn’t need to pay. (One way or another you always have to pay!) Brian pulled out a 10,000 riyal note (about $1.00) and one of the guys shook his head, yelling “Five” in Arabic. Brian fished out 50,000 riyals and everything was fine. The whole thing was momentarily a bit scary, but easily enough resolved.

April 22 Leaving Ahavaz

We’re in the Mesopotamian River Valley, the birthplace of Western Civilization. It’s a broad flat fiver valley with rich, fertile soil. Fields of wheat, barley, and sugar cane line the roads, waving green and yellow on the way to Chogar Zabil, said to be the best preserved ziggurat remaining. The ziggurat’s base is a perfect square 105m. on each side. It was surrounded by three walls of which now only some rudimentary ruins remain. We approached the ziggurat through one main eastern entrance in the remains of the inner wall. While one can come close, access onto the ziggurat is very limited. Locked gates bar access to the entrances – at the center of each side – to stairways to the upper levels We were able to go into a series of rooms leading into a cul-de-sac. Some of the bricks have cuneiform inscriptions.

On the eastern and southern sides by the entrances are sundials made of brick, large squat cylinders with tiered recesses at each of the four points of the compass. Looking at it, the geometry is obvious. Anyone familiar with the system could measure the shadows of these recesses very easily and exactly. The question came up why an agricultural people would need to know the time so exactly? I explained the importance of the Ascendant, especially in ancient astrology and how this exact time keeping would facilitate calculation of the Ascendant. The southern sundial was much larger and served as the base of a sacrificial altar. The circular top of the sundial was divided in half with a platform to stand on and one side raised for the altar. The dividing line, in effect, a low brick wall, was lined up at a diagonal to the strict compass points of everything else there. After some haggling with the local guide through our guide interpreting we were able to figure out that the line of the wall was exactly aligned to the horizon point of the setting sun at the Winter Equinox.

Driving around Khuzestan, the Mesopotamian province of Iran, we’ve seen people herding goats, sheep, water buffalo, and camels. There are also cattle in pens, including the hump-backed Brahmins. This region is largely ethnically Arab so my Arabic – such as it is – has come in handy. The central government is very much ethnically Persian and not supportive of minority cultures. All public education, throughout a very ethnically diverse country, is conducted in Persian. There is an Arab separatist movement in Khuzistan, and some people call it Arabistan. This is where all – or at least a huge amount – of the oil is pumped and it is also the agricultural breadbasket of Iran. If this province were to secede it would be bean economic shock like California leaving the US. Local Arab loyalties are also suspect in part because of the 8 Year War that Iraq waged to try to capture this province. Handsome young soldiers are portrayed in murals all around here, fallen war dead, hailed as religious martyrs. Khomeini is also shown with quotes, exhorting people to good behavior and patriotism. Many of the quotes are in English along with Persian, to benefit foreign visitors.

Liz is a tall slim woman of a certain age, a retired facilities manager, who remembers the fifties well enough to have a full appreciation for the accomplishments of the feminist movement. She’s been here before, and wears her scarf without complaint until some man makes it out to be a small imposition. She’ll let you know at that point what a bother it is. A long drive through the country allowed her to let it fall back, but at one point we passed a man and two women on a motorcycle who pointed and laughed at our bus as if something were very funny. Liz’s bare head? A little later we drove through a small town and into a traffic circle where the honking, traffic, and commotion seemed excessive even by Iranian standards. (Like male beauty, we are again dealing with a heightened level of expectations!) Sitting right behind Liz I suggested that she might want to put her scarf back up. She did so and there was no more fuss. That night a Greek tourist sauntered across to the salad bar with her head uncovered – the shameless hussy! Our tour guide had some words with the Greek group’s tour guide. Secret police are everywhere and this could be trouble. If one group draws bad attention, it makes it harder for all of us. The other leader, a young woman who was letting her own scarf slip back pretty far, seemed confident that she knew where the rules could be bent, and that hotel, in the basement restaurant was safe. She came over and chatted with us, shaking hands (The heterosexual handshake is tabu here as is any cross-gender touching outside the family!) and offering great hope as an example of a young Iranian woman who doesn’t take crap.

From Chogar Zanbil we went to Shush, an ancient Achaemenian capital where some meager remains sit atop a hill top. In the late 18th century French Archaeologists took control of the hilltop and built an Omani style castle to protect the archeologists from Arab raiders. The castle was interesting, although we couldn’t enter. Air conditioning units showed it still in use. Best of all was the view from up there down over the city itself and the look into the courtyard of the Mosque of Daniel’s Tomb. We had gone there first and I was able to pray with the other faithful who were there as we all faced the tomb of the Biblical prophet Daniel. After my salat I played tourist and photographed the tomb the best I could in such a cramped space.

Our hotel in Ahwaz had decent dinners. Uninspired kebabs seem the rule so far, but the fish and shrimp kebabs here were good. Salad bars here offer varieties of yogurt, plain, one withchopped cukes and garlic that would be called tzatziki in Greece. Here it’s called masosir. A third variety appears to have chopped spinach. Breakfast at the Brand Pars Ahwaz features the usual choices plus a porridge with fine pits of beef. It’s eaten with sugar and cinnamon. There’s also a thick gloopy soup of mystery greens with garbanzos and lentils. Any description of it must be scary, but it really was delicious. After yesterday’s breakfast I was looking forward to more of the same this morning. Of course I want to try a full range of varieties, but more of the same of these breakfasts would not be a terrible disappointment.

On the way back from Susa we stopped off at Shushtar, a city of extraordinarily beautiful men (Iran already sets a high standard there!) and a hydroelectric dam in the middle of town. Instead of the usual dull spillways they’ve created a series of cascades and walkways making a beautiful aquatic park.

At night Nick, a brilliantly flirtatious man of 40, took me on a riverside stroll. People were very friendly, and quite a few of them were visibly drunk. Almost all the men here are stunningly gorgeous, so the one who greeted me on the stairs from the hotel to the walkway could have saved me the walk. But he quickly lost interest, perhaps due to language difficulties. We went a short distance and Nick was telling me of his adventures the previous night, ending up in a dark park on the other side of the river, apparently left alone for illicit activities. As we chatted a pair of young straight couples weaved up to us, one of the girls took the lead introducing herself as “Fifi” in a tone suggesting the whole thing was a huge joke, and we played along. After they left in a fit of giggles we met Mustafa, whom Nick fell in lust with instantly. He took us to a gang of friends who were amazingly friendly. They asked what seem the usual questions about our religion and, “Bush?” My standard response of a raspberry and a thumbs-down gesture always gets a laugh. Especially with my declaration, “Bush is a schmuck!” which these boys learned and repeated eagerly. “Boosh – a shmahck!” They kept offering whisky and puffs on the hookah, and flirted outrageously. One caught sight of the edge of my tattoo and wanted to see the rest of it. I rolled up my sleeve to show as much as decency in an Islamic Republic allows, indicating the extent of it. Issa, the real prize of the bunch, indicated that he wanted me to show him the rest and I allowed that I would be glad to show him as much as he wants to see if we could find a right place for it. Someone with a phone took some pictures of my arm, and Mustafa told Nick that we should go. We made our hasty farewells as gracefully as we could, with lots of hugs and kisses.

A decent night’s sleep, Alhamdulillah; another fine breakfast of green gloop and porridge with meat and cinnamon, and maa-salaama to Khuzestan, the birthplace of Western Civilization and home of beautiful, beautiful men!

At a small town we stopped for a quick break. An ice cream shop there prepares a small plastic dish loaded with seven tiny scoops of ice cream. Along with chocolate and “nescafe” I got coconut, saffron, and carrot. Saffron is plentiful here, and relatively cheap.

We’re making some close passes by oil wells. Flames atop the rigs are burning off natural gas. It seems terribly wasteful, but any effort to retrieve the gas would risk some of it getting caught into the oil pipelines, which could cause an explosion. Flame is very important in the Zoroastrian religion which is as suffuse in local culture as pagan traditions are in American Christianity. The fires here offer great beauty and a sense of purification. Unfortunately we’ve only driven by the wells at day. At night they must be very striking!

Bishipur was the first capital of the Sassanid dynasty. What little that remains of King Shapur’s city is mostly undulating stone walls. One interesting feature is a temple 6 meters below ground level, at the level of a nearby river, which fed a shallow pool in the square temple. Like the ziggurats this temple had entrances to the main room from each of four sides. Each of these doorways led to a corridor surrounding the temple, but only one doorway led to the stairs back up to the surface. This was the temple to Anahita, goddess of water and fertility. The city had stood at the opening of a narrow, lush river valley, and was obviously nurtured by the river as it flowed out to the larger valley of which the city had a commanding view. The king’s palace featured a dome with four iwans. The dome, covering a room of 25 meters squared was the first significant dome in Persian architecture. This style of dome and iwans is a common pattern now in Iranian mosques. Close to this was a “sex temple” where guests of the emperor were offered erotic companionship. The Persians are still famous for their hospitality, but nothing is what it used to be!

Up into the river valley, are bas-relief carvings honoring Sassanid victories, and one showing the emperor receiving a ring of power from the Zoroastrian god, Ahuru Mazda. Across from those were walls built of rock into the steep wall of the river valley, made more visible by the perfectly round windows and narrow slits (For archers? Or for air and illumination?)

Out of there just in time for sunset we are continuing our ascent up mountain roads through passes to the city of Shiraz, where wine has been made for 5,000 years.
There are still vineyards and wine is made for Zoroastrians, Christians and Jews (Oh, My!)

April 23, 4:30 pm

Persepolis beggars description. Our tour guide, Reza, asked me how it compares to the Roman Forum. The Forum was a collection of temples and related buildings in the heart of an urban center. What remains of the city of Persepolis was a magnificent palace complex. One of the palaces there was the home of King Xerxes and his wife Queen Esther. A ceremonial entrance to the palace complex has on either side giant bull figures looming over the portal. Both figures have been partially destroyed, and one of the heads is now in the museum at the University of Chicago. When Reza said that, I realized that I have a picture of it. It’s from a National Geographic from the early 50’s showing a picture of that bull’s head being admired by my mother, then a teenaged student at the U of C.

The figures that predominate in the art are bulls and lions. An image that appears frequently is that of a lion biting into a bull’s haunch. The lion’s mane radiates with a regularity that makes the lion’s head suggest a solar disk. A curve in the bull’s horn makes it look like a crescent moon. The Sun rules Leo and the Moon is exalted in Taurus so the astrology of it confirms Reza’s explanation that it represents day conquering night. Bulls, Lions and Men are the commonest figures, suggesting three of the four fixed signs of the Zodiac. What, no eagle or scorpion? Perhaps they thought Scorpio should remain hidden.

One figure Reza pointed out as King Ataxerxes killing a lion, a boast of his strength. Actually that would exactly describe another bas-relief very near by. I noticed that this particular “lion” had eagle’s wings and claws, a scorpion’s tail, and bull’s horns, features from three of the fixed signs. Is Ataxerxes than supposed to be Aquarius? But here the image of the gryphon-like figure being killed by the King appears to assert his majesty’s control over the order of the universe.

At a wonderful lunch Jerry showed us how to wrap some cheese, leaves from a savory herb, and a piece of raw onion into a piece of flatbread, and dip it in yoghurt. Delicious!!! Seriously!

Then on to the necropolis where Xerxes and three other kings were buried. (Esther is somewhere else with uncle Mordecai.) These tombs were high up in a cliff wall with carvings that make one think of Petra or the Valley of the Kings in Egypt – at least from photos of those places I’ve not yet been. Buried high above they were supposed to be closer to heaven. Beneath them large carvings into the rock depicted coronations and military victories.

A tall narrow square building, in the necropolis had been called the Zoroastrian Ka’aba, but its purpose remains unknown. Some scholars suspect an astrological connection, and archaeologists have invited astrologers to help figure it out.

On the way back into Shiraz we stopped off at an Imam Zahdeh, a shrine to… well this one featured a grandson of one of the 12 Imams in a crypt identical to the one holding the prophet Daniel, except that it was out in the open in the center of the shrine, not in a small room like Daniel’s. The courtyard of the shrine was paved with gravestones identifying those buried beneath. In the center a goldfish pond was lined with spigots and stools for wudhu (ablutions necessary before prayer) The crypt was exactly under the center of the dome in a slightly cruciform building. The interior walls, ceilings, and iwans were entirely covered in patterns of small pieces of mirror. It is easily the glitziest place I’ve ever prayed!

Salam, Tehran!

2006-04-19T22:01:00.000-07:00

April 17-18, 2006

The flight over on Air France was better than Alitalia, but not up to Lufthansa or FinnAir. Food was excellent, service snippy – a classic stereotype of the French! Flight was crowded and uncomfortable. Big guy in a flimsy seat in front of me kept it going up and down, making me feel like I was underneath a see-saw.

Exhausted but slightly wired from jetlag and excitement, I’m in my room at the Tehran Grand Hotel, which by Iranian standards is a 4 star hotel. I’d give it two stars. Our tour leader, Jerry, was over-enthusiastic, but I have no real complaints. Elias would have a lot to say,

Getting through passport control and customs was a breeze, but for a long, slow line at the passport gate and the guard a bit officious and clearly surprised with a group of Americans coming in.

There was some confusion about our arrival time. Whoever is in charge has decided that Iran will not observe daylight time this year. Astrologers take note!

Tehran – a city of 10,000,000 -- is all lit up, with shops lining streets selling various treats. Traffic is mad, way beyond anything I ever saw in Italy, even in Morocco. Signs were of course in Farsi, most with roman transliteration, as are all the street signs. Nice practice for reading!

The air is hot, dry, and dirty, reminiscent of Mexico City. My sinuses are not happy, but it’s not terrible.

The Islamic Republic is cracking down. Western music and dancing, so I’m told, are banned in public. I here there may even be a new plan whereby men and women will have to walk on different sides of the street. Even families will be gender segregated in public strolls. How this can be made practical I can’t imagine and it’s sure to disrupt commerce something fierce. It’s too crazy, and must be a joke. More likely is the news that womens’ dress codes will get stricter next month, needing to cover more as things get much warmer around here.

The façade of the hotel is lit up with garish colors, looking like a shabby version of Las Vegas. Inside it’s pleasant enough. My otherwise very ordinary room has a folded-up prayer rug on the shelf by the mirror, and as I unfurled it for evening prayer, a small clay disk flew out. I understand it’s a Shi’ite tradition to put that where your head meets the ground in the low bow of salat. Of course there’s a Qur’an by the rug, but it’s all Arabic, not unexpectedly. I brought my bi-lingual copy. A small arrow tacked up on the wall points to qibla, the direction of Mecca. My little compass and guide for that disagrees by 90 degrees.

The bathroom has a hose on a spigot next to the toilet to accommodate the “traditionalists” who clean themselves, wiping with water, as Muslims did in the days before rolls of perforated tissue. Paper is there for those of us what go for them new-fangled innovations. That reminds me: Check on local left-hand taboos.

So much for late night arrival in Tehran, after much too long a time flying.

Shob bekheyr is Persian for good night!

April 19, 2006, 7:00 AM

A fitful night’s sleep. My room is not far over a busy, noisy street. He view (north) is rather pretty, with snow-capped mountains not too far off, and a stream along the sidewalk where you would expect a gutter. Trees (maples?) are growing in the stream.

6:00 PM
Traffic here continues to amaze… traffic lanes seem to be mere recommendations and people scrape by – almost literally. Breakfast mystery meats, sandwich meats and sausage are all halal so I can devour them fearlessly, and the buffet here is pretty good.

This morning we went to the Qajar dynasty palace complex. , a number of buildings framing a beautiful, large garden. A grand marble throne with gorgeous carvings – statues of Persian princes and princesses, and fanged demons from poems by Fergowsi. Support a large marble base -- looks out from one ornate room onto the garden. Another room, used for court ceremonies is decorated mostly with pieces of mirror arranged in geometric patterns that raise into small peaks, reflecting light everywhere.

Another building, the tallest in Tehran when it was built, had then aroused some fury as the good citizen neighbors feared that the men of the royal household would look down into yards nearby and see their wives and daughters unveiled. The Shah agreed that only women would be allowed on the top two floors of his palace.

On to the Grand Bazaar of Tehran. Well, semi-grand…. It appears at first glance like the labyrinthine net of The Bazaar of Istanbul or Marakesh Souks all pressed close together, but it’s altogether much smaller and from what we saw deals mostly in household goods. That includes some very nice furnishings, and more mundane items. I got some disposable razors.

After lunch – little more than moderately interesting, but for the variety of rice preparations and a saffron & rosewater pudding for dessert – we went on to the Sa`d Abad Museum complex which used to be the Summer Palaces of the Pahlevi Shahs and their close relatives. None of the palaces is hugely impressive, but there are some nice rooms and pieces, and the grounds, overlooking Tehran from the hills to the north make a lovely park.

For all that, the highlight of the day may have been the huge mural declaring “Down With America!” Our tour guide, Reza, was very apologetic, but one of our group had wanted to see it. We assured him that such a design would fit right into a San Francisco peace march, and that we were opposed to US imperial aggression.

Doesn’t sound like much of a day, but we’re still pretty seriously jetlagged and came back to our hotel exhausted.

Going to Iran!

2006-04-13T09:58:00.000-07:00

Monday I’m flying to Iran!

This is a spectacular opportunity, and the tour looks fairly complete. I’ll stay a week longer to fill in some gaps, hoping by then to know enough Persian to get by on my own.

Telling friends about the trip is already an experience. People who’ve been there describe the Iranians as the warmest most hospitable people in the world. Those who’ve studied the area and know what’s going on are very excited and encouraging. My friends who are less informed think it’s dangerous. One even told me that it’s insane to go to a country that’s at war. Perhaps. Certainly one should visit such countries only very advisedly, but Iran hasn’t been at war with anyone in nearly 20 years. How many wars has the US been in since then, not counting the two we’re waging now in Afghanistan and Iraq?

Some highlights of the itinerary:

Tehran city tour with visits to the Golestan Palace Complex and the Ethnological Museum. Later a visit to the Garden Hall of Shams-ol-Emareh and the Hall of the Marble Throne. Afterwards a stroll through the Tehran Bazaar.
A visit to the Archeological and Islamic Art Museums in Tehran with their fine collection of artifacts from the period of the ancient Persian Empire from the 5th to the 4th millennium B.C. and Islamic Art Museum containing a collection of carpets, textiles, ceramics and pottery from the Islamic Period.

Ahwaz, a city of just over one million people, is the capital of Khuzestan Province and is part of the greater region known historically as Mesopotamia. After breakfast in the hotel we drive to Susa (Shush), once one of the greatest cities of ancient Persia until Alexander the Great conquered it in 331 BC. Afterwards a visit to Chogha Zanbil, one of the best-preserved ziggurats in Mesopotamia. It is a UNESCO World Heritage site. The ziggurat was dedicated to the chief God of the ancient Elamites, Inshushinak. Later a drive to the city of Shushtar to see the water mills on the Karun River dating back to the Qajar Dynasty.

A visit to the ancient Sassanian city of Bishapur with visits to the Temple of Anahita, the Zoroastrian deity of water and fertility and the bas reliefs commemorating the Sassanian victory over the Romans in 243 AD.

Persepolis, the spiritual capital of the Persian Empire built by Darius I in 518 B.C., destroyed by Alexander the Great in 330 B.C. and considered by many to be one of the most beautiful and spectacular archaeological sites in the world today, was the spiritual capital of the ancient Persian Empire ruled over by the Achaemenian kings.We’ll visit the Achaemenian tombs at Naghsh-e-Rostam

City tour of Shiraz with a visit to the NarenjestanGarden and the Nasir ol-Molk Mosque. An afternoon visit to the tombs of the Sufi Poets Hafez and Sa'adi, the Khan Theological School and the Koran Gate. Shiraz was one of the most important cities in the Medieval Islamic world and is the cradle of Persian culture and civilization. It was the Iranian capital from 1747-1770. Shiraz has been famous throughout Iranian history as a city of poets, Sufi saints, and rose gardens and as a seat of learning.
Drive from Shiraz to Yazd with a visit to Pasargad, the ancient capital and burial place of Cyrus the Great. Yazd, a city of about 500,000, is the center of Iranian Zoroastrianism and lies on the Silk Road along the edge of the Dashte-Kavir desert. Yazd was visited my Marco Polo in 1272. Our visit to Yazd will include the Friday Mosque, the Chaqmaq Mosque and the Dowlatabad Gardens with its famous wind towers. Afterwards we will visit the Zoroastrian Fire Temple and the Towers of Silence.
On to Isfahan is a city of about 1,300,000 inhabitants and is considered by many to be the classical Persian city. It is beautifully situated on a river, which flows through the center of town. There are several exquisite bridges that are fine examples of Safavid Dynasty architecture. The term "Isfahan nesfejahan" (Isfahan is half of the world) was coined in the 16th century to reflect the magnificence of the city. During the rule of Shah Abbas I in the 16th century Isfahan became the center of some of the most beautiful and awe inspiring architecture, art and carpets seen anywhere in the Islamic world.
Full day tour of Imam Square built in 1612. It is one of the largest squares in the world. The tour includes the Ali Qapu Palace constructed in the 18th century, Imam Mosque, one of the most stunning examples of Persian architecture built in 1638 and the Sheikh Lotfullah Mosque and the traditional bazaar. An afternoon visit to the bridges of Isfahan located on the Zayandeh River. Later a visit to a traditional Zurkhaneh (House of Strength) to watch an exhibition of Persian martial arts which has its roots in Sufism (mystical Islam).

Qom is one of the most important centers of Shi'a Islam and is the cradle of the Islamic Revolution. A visit to the Sanctuary of Fatima, one of the holiest pilgrimage sites for Shi'a Moslems. Continue on to Tehran with visits to Behesht-e-Zahra, the Cemetery of Martyrs, and the Mausoleum of Imam Khomeini.

*********

After that, some leave, some stay, going on individual exploration. I’ll spend a day or two in Tehran and fly to the historical city of Tabriz, then over the Caspian coastline to Mashhad, a great religious center said to have some of the best ecclesiastical architecture anywhere.

I love visiting Muslim countries – which sounds like I do it a lot, although I’ve only been to Turkey, Morocco, and Bosnia – and look forward to spending a few weeks in a mostly Shi’ite country, observing the differences between the two major sects of Islam. I don’t plan on keeping my Sunni side up, but will be eager to observe, learn, and participate to my best abilities according to the house rules. When in Rome…. I strongly feel that Islam is a universal religion because it is a set of simple principles that can be adapted to the cultures and needs of different peoples in different nations. Just as there is one humanity with billions of unique individuals, there is one Islam for all and we each have to find our own path and practice. There are five pillars of faith built around the word of God in holy scriptures, but around that there is a lot of room for individuality and cultural variety.

In any case, it will be a tremendous adventure to explore this ancient land.

Reply to Rosendall

2006-03-31T09:29:00.000-08:00

Richard Rosendall, wrote a column in the 30 March 2006 issue of Boston's GLBTI paper, "Bay Window." As it encapsulated a lot of common clichés of Islamophobia I thought it worth responding to. Editor Susan Ryan-Vollmar wrote that this response would run in the next issue:

As Richard Rosendall reports with apparent approval, Bruce Bawer has shifted focus from his bizarre revisionism of queer history. (Bawer has in the past gone to some length saying that the leftists, queens, bulldykes, and leathermen who catalyzed our community’s growth in the Stonewall Era are weirdos who denigrate our community.) Now Bruce is whipping up anti-Muslim hysteria. Indeed the integration of large Muslim populations in western societies is a problem, but one that needs a more nuanced and historical perspective than Bawer offers. Quelle surprise.

Projecting a homophobic dystopia arising out of current trends, Rosendall and Bawer ignore the fact that the trends they’re looking at follow a cycle of rise and ebb; not the linear trajectory they draw. Historical precedents abound. Immigrant ghettoes in early 20th-century America also had imported systems of law enforcement where the civic institutions chose not to tread. But immigrants do integrate into the larger society. Recent efforts to allow Shari’ah courts in Canada were squelched, thanks in large part to progressive Muslim groups who recognize that we can preserve our religion and thrive better in an integrated society.

“Honor killings” are a tribal custom, not condoned by anything in the Qur’an, and yes, they happen, but they are not “routine” any more than double-fisting is a routine gay sex practice. Really, gay men should know enough about sensationalist stereotyping to look beyond it. Hysterical exaggeration only causes “traditional” communities to circle the wagons and make a real problem worse.

Typically ignorant of reality is Bawer’s characterization of Pat Robertson as merely wanting to deny us marriage – and thus nicer than the Muslims. Excuse me??? Robertson is well on record preaching death for queers as fervently as any mullah, and has blamed us for incurring God’s wrath in the forms of earthquakes, hurricanes, and even the 9/11 attack. Bruce’s longstanding fetish for Republican bootleather comes off here as indecent slavering.

Much more typical than the terrorism espoused by Osama bin-Laden is his niece, Wafa Dafour, a singer who has posed for sexy photos in GQ. Islamic names are growing ever more noticeable in cast lists and movie credits. As more and more Muslims celebrate the freedoms and opportunities offered in western cultures so are more and more westerners embracing Islam. Feminist, Queer, and progressive Muslims are organizing and finding in the Qur’an support for personal autonomy and cultural diversity.

With a growing presence of Muslims in the West we have a growing number of Queer Muslims among us who are struggling to tear down the artificial barrier between their religion and their sexual/gender integrity. Rosendall’s parroting of Bawer’s polarizing twaddle only attacks our efforts at personal and social integration.

Medicine for Mexicans: Public services and Illegal immigrants

2006-03-05T12:17:00.000-08:00

A friend writes that Virginia has just passed a law requiring legal residence for medical assistance and that that Governor Bill Richardson of New Mexico says illegal immigrants are stressing their health care system. Richardson, a latino Democrat, should know better.

With the brutal conditions that people sneaking up from Mexico risk, it seems insane that anyone would cross the border to take advantage of American Health Care, but likelier that they would need it after making the crossing. A couple of excellent movies, "El Norte" and "The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada" illustrate the point. In fact I have friends who have gone to Mexico to get treatment they couldn't get in the US. And besides, it's cheaper, and so much easier, to see a doctor in Mexico than to hire a "Coyote" to sneak you into the States.

Nowadays whenever a "liberal" speaks of compassion and the human cost he's accused of being a mushy-headed PC bleeding heart, so I'm going to skip all that and speak strictly in terms of economy and security.

People cross the border desperate to find work, and their labor, often at or below the minimum wage, without benefits that citizens would demand, usually the most grueling tasks, keeps our economy running. They pick the crops, clean the restaurants, and keep the homes of politicians who vote to make their lives even dicier. (We see these "nanny-gate" scandals again and again.)

Because they are here illegally they do their best to avoid the system and not use services that citizens and legal immigrants can take advantage of.

If an illegal gets a contagious disease, it is cheaper for all us taxpayers if he just goes to the clinic to get it taken care of, than if he doesn't get the care and the disease spreads among others, who are here legally or otherwise, and when it gets worse the treatment becomes more expensive in each case, and there are so many more cases!

If there are children here illegally who don't go to school, they are likelier to end up in gangs, and prisons are costlier than schools. (Funny how the right wing moans and bitches about the expense of schools and the politics of teachers' unions, but eagerly pump money into more prisons and shell out whatever the prison guards' unions ask for.) And a lot of those children, even if their parents are here illegally, are born in the US and are indeed citizens. And still, for fear of consequences to their parents, they miss out on school and health care. So we end up spending more on prisons. One should also note how more and more latinos are embracing Islam. I should be glad for that, but what Islam are they embracing? Are they learning – “Bismillah irrahman irrahim” – a discipline of love, mercy, and compassion that will help them to live fuller lives? Or are they getting the brutal puritanism that encourages contempt of diversity, that imagines armies of God and promotes violence and suicide bombs? Alienated youth who came up through gangs are too prone to the latter. Abdullah al Muhajir, né Jose Padilla, is one famous case involving an alleged “dirty bomb” plot. (Joe Loya writes more about the link between latin gangs and el-Qaeda at http://news.newamericamedia.org/news/view_article.html?article_id=531 )

Yes, our public health care system is being very stressed. Blaming the illegals conveniently ignores the cut-backs and lowered corporate taxes, the obscene diversion of government funds to the war in Iraq. This is just another symptom of the structural decadence of America as health, education, and infrastructure are being starved so the rich can get richer.

The new law in Virgina requiring legal residence for medical treatment is penny wise, but pound foolish. It appeals to short-sighted jingoistic voters and echoes Virginia’s racist past, but the many Virginians who call themselves Christians should be ashamed of turning away the ill, the poor, the strangers... exactly the people that Jesus told us to embrace and care for.

As for Richardson, this only demonstrates the spineless vacillation, the lack of leadership and vision that is keeping Democrats out of power. Shame, shame, shame...

How did I come to Islam?

2006-03-03T20:55:00.000-08:00

I was raised in an agnostic, socialist home. Even my grandparents were all agnostic. Both my grandfathers grew up in strict religious homes, one Catholic, the other orthodox Jewish. The Catholic married an Episcopalian who converted to appease his mother and, tourism aside, neither ever entered a church again. My Jewish grandpa came to America and after a couple of other marriages met my nana who came from a very reform Jewish family in Berlin. My parents raised their children without religion… for the most part. For reasons more pragmatic than religious we went to a Unitarian Church for a year. Being active in the Civil Rights movement, and then the peace movement opposing the war in Vietnam we had a lot of contact with black and peace-oriented activist churches. Our parents taught us about different religions and said we could make up our minds when we grew up. When they divorced, my father decided that his three pre-teen children would all be Jews. A rabbi said some words over our heads, and they are since long forgotten. My brother is an adamant atheist and my sister attends a Protestant church.

As a young adult I read the Gospels and became a Christian, and eventually Roman Catholic, but always critical of institutions and fundamentalism. I remained open to learning other ways, studied Wicca, and always had friends of many different religions. For all that I never really knew any Muslims, although in the 10th grade I’d read “The Autobiography of Malcolm X” and that was for a long time most of what I knew about Islam.

In February of 2001 I was studying in Florence and had the opportunity to visit Istanbul. What I found there astounded me, a vibrant city that had been truly cosmopolitan for centuries in ways that no European or American city came near. I was then only dimly aware of medieval Arab empires that stretched from China to Iberia, but in Istanbul one could see an incredible legacy of many diverse arts and cultures. I was hungry to learn more.

I returned that summer to San Francisco and signed up for classes in the “History of Islamic Societies” in the fall of 2001. The class had been meeting for a few weeks before the attack on the World Trade Center. On September 12, we were as shell shocked as the rest of the country, and very aware that we were strangely privileged to be in that class at that time, that after a few weeks we already knew far more about Islam than most Americans and that what we were learning would be crucial in healing wounds and building bridges.

The next summer I went to Morocco to study Arabic, which strictly for studying Arabic was a mistake, like going to Italy to study Latin. What they speak in Morocco is a form of Arabic rather removed from the standard language of the Arab media, much less the dialects of other Arab countries. Still, it was very eye-opening to live in an Arab country, poor in their economy, but rich in history, culture, and the good manners I would learn were integral to Muslim society, “al-adab” which means manners, culture, and literature, depending on context, but always suggests polite grace and education.

Back in San Francisco I continued learning about Islam and the Muslim world – never intending to convert. I was really quite happy as a Catholic, thank you very much – but with a sense of duty that Americans and Europeans needed to know about this world that was so close to us in so many ways, but so far from our knowledge.

It always seemed to me that to judge any matter you always have to put yourself in the other person’s shoes. To know another person’s way of thinking you have to learn her language. People only resort to violence, let alone suicide, when other means fail. What were we not hearing from the Muslim world, what did we need to know? Aside from the huge geo-political questions what are the underlying religious and philosophical beliefs?

It came clearer and clearer that– despite the institutional overlays, and the huge political problems that they create – the Abrahamite religions of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam have at their common core a belief that the dignity of humanity is a divine grace that we share in by acts of compassion and forgiveness. There is really very little that separates these religions – differing opinions about Jesus and Mohammed (peace be upon them) – but the moral teachings are essentially the same. The rest is little more than cultural and political history.

In my study of Islam I had to ask myself if I could or would be a Muslim and why (not)? As a Catholic I believed in Jesus Christ as God incarnate. There is a wonderful, beautiful mystery in this that links humanity with God. The Incarnation was very important to me, and even believing in this as an historical (if historically unverifiable) fact, I knew that if we believe in Christ as the salvation of man, that excludes the majority of humanity that never had the opportunity to know of Him. Therefore God either turns His back on most of humanity or “knowing Christ” has to be as valid in metaphor as it is in literal interpretation.

The Qur’an, on the other hand, affirms Jesus as prophet, but no more, and also affirms that while some prophets are known to us through the Qur’an and the Bible, there are many prophets and they share God’s word in all communities. And also that we are made in different nations and cultures that we may all learn from each other. This understanding helped me to let go of the Incarnation.

There is also the not inconsiderable problem that I have always and only loved men. Women as friends and sisters, sure, but never “that way.” Along with my other research I looked into Gay Muslim organizations and scholarship and found that the homophobia that is indeed very strong in most contemporary Muslim cultures is relatively new, that it flourished with the spread of European colonialism, and that sexual diversity had been known and accepted throughout most of Muslim history. Islamic arguments against homosexuality are based on readings of the story of the “people of Lut” – familiar to Christians and Jews as the Sodomites – but this is a story about robbery, rape, and murder, that has nothing to do with men loving men or women loving women.

All this came to a head for me when I attended the 2003 conference of Salaam Canada, a Gay Muslim organization. I felt there was no reason I could not make the declaration of faith, but should probably wait to do so until I got home, rather than doing something rash in a setting so removed from my daily life. But then there were two Sufi dhikr. The first one was ecstatic, leading me into an openness of spirit.

The second one was more structured, strictly choreographed dances with chanting ayat (verses from the Qur’an). The first two were general recognitions of human spirit… but the third, “En’shedu na la illaha il allah wa Muhamed rasul allah,” was the declaration of faith: There is no god but God, and Mohammed is his prophet. Could I say it without meaning it? One participant, who was not Muslim, bowed out, which crystallized my choice, and I asked the leader if this would qualify as a Shahadah. She said that it would if I meant it. Could I, should I say it and mean it? I could, and despite the sensible reasons for waiting it seemed a perfect setting in which to make the Shahadah. Besides, I am a professional astrologer and my horoscope for that day signaled a major change in my life.

I danced and sang,
“En’shedu na la illaha il allah wa Muhamed rasul allah.
“En’shedu na le illaha il allah wa Muhamed rasul allah.
“En’shedu na le illaha il allah wa Muhamed rasul allah.”

And I have never regretted it. I find joy in prayer and fasting, and I find in Islam not easy answers to questions, but simple principles that offer endless challenge.

Oh, those Cartoons! Anti-Semitic? Or Anti-Israeli?

2006-03-02T19:06:00.000-08:00

In response to Muslim rage over the Danish doodles, Muslims have been challenged with anti-Israeli cartoons taken as evidence of vicious anti-Semitism. But can one criticize the policies of the Israeli state without being accused of anti-Semitism? And what other government has managed to put itself so above criticism? Oh, but look at the cartoons! They are ugly stereotypes of Jews and profane the sacred symbols of Judaism. True enough, but let’s look at the context.

Political cartoons rely on stereotypes that would be crude and bufoonish elsewhere. Any survey of political cartoons would find the French drawn as apache dancers with baguettes, the English are cockneys or snooty umbrella-toters, the Germans are fat, officious men in monocles or women in braids and dirndls, etc., etc… Heaven knows we've been lately awash in Arabs with bulging eyes and unkempt beards, swinging huge scimtars. The cartoon stereotype of the Jew does have ugly historic resonance, but if Israel claims to represent the Jewish people they cannot reasonably protest being represented as Jewish people, even in a medium where most of the people are absurdly crude stereotypes.

Israeli leaders have declared themselves and their government THE representatives of the Jewish people – a claim that many of my Jewish friends and relatives dispute – and this government represents itself with the symbols of the Jewish religion. Take the Jewish star, the mogen david, which is so prominent in these cartoons. I don't like seeing it sullied, but it is the symbol on the Israeli flag. The Israeli state seal exploits a menorah. It is the Israelis who have made the sacred symbols of Judaism, the religion of my own family and forebears, into the signs of a worldly government. Religious symbols should be above vicious caricature, but political symbols are fair game. The Israeli government cannot have it both ways.

The icing on the cake is the comparison of caricatures of Muhammed with caricatures of Ariel Sharon. Inherent in this argument is equating a prophet of God with a particularly brutal politician.
This is not to deny that there is indeed crude and vicious hatred of Jews among Muslims (as there is also among Christians and others!) but when reasonable political criticism is assailed as religious hatred, this is "crying 'wolf''" in a way that makes serious challenges to actual bigotry all the more difficult.