Rather appallingly it has been over a year since I have posted anything to this blog. One of my many 2010 New Year’s resolutions is to rectify that, starting with posts of all my Masters work, so I’ve got an easier place to show case it all. Happy browsing!
This article was awarded Times Higher Education Scottish University Feature of the Year
THE SIGHT of the neat rows of bushes comes as somewhat of a surprise when we have been driving through such arid and parched land for several hours. The sight of the tall watchtowers makes it even stranger. As we drive through the fields I ask Fouad, our driver, what the crop is. On learning it is qat, this alien crop I had read so much about before arriving in Arabia Felix, I ask if we can pull over for a photo, but he just shakes his head, points at the towers and we drive on.
The watchtowers reinforce just how highly valued this shrub is in Yemen, the poorest country in the Middle East.
But this is not some life-sustaining crop that feeds the nation. The only thing this plant feeds is a national addiction.
It is not some backstreet, hidden-behind-closed-doors addiction that we might expect in the West where drug use is more commonly associated with emaciated heroin junkies.
Walking around the city, time and again I see men with bulbous cheeks; they look like they have huge cancerous tumours. Crouched along the streets, huddled in groups, or merely sitting in the back of the small debab buses that criss-cross the city, men can be seen pulling clumps of leaves from bags in their laps and pushing them into their already swollen cheeks.
It is estimated that a staggering nine in ten men in Yemen chew qat on a regular basis.
It is not only men that chew. Although as women only ever do it behind closed doors – as with many aspects of a Yemeni woman’s life – and no reputable woman would ever be seen at the bustling road-side qat market, female use of the drug is much more hidden. Qat is so common in Yemen that on family occasions, like weddings, children join in the chew. Students favour its amphetamine-like qualities over imported caffeine drinks as a study aid.
The qat chew is a daily event. Shops, offices, even public services can close for several hours in the afternoon as staff head off to partake in the national past-time.
Unlike many other plant-based narcotics, qat is not ground up, smoked or even eaten. It is sold in bunches, with the leaves still on the branches, which are then plucked and chewed, but never swallowed.
Although qat is a narcotic, it is as prevalent in Yemeni society as smoking was in Britain a generation ago. There is no social stigma attached and the communal usage likens it more to coffee, our stigma-less stimulant of choice in the West, than any other drug.
In the UK qat is a class C drug. The US, however take a much stronger line, classifying the active ingredients cathine as a schedule IV substance and the more potent cathinone as a schedule I substance, in line with heroin and LSD.
Intrigued, and reassured that its affects are more like those of too many espressos or Red Bulls than anything harder, I accept an invitation to a qat chew.
The aim of a qat chew is not akin to our boozing sessions in the UK where we try to get wasted; people sit, chew, relax and usually put the world to rights. It is during a qat chew that the foreigner can hear just how Yemenis really feel about their country and their supposedly beloved president Ali Abdullah Saleh.
Sitting crossed-legged in the mafrij – the highest room in the house filled with low-seated sofas – looking out across the Old City of Sana’a, we sit around with a pile of branches, similar to those of a privet hedge, bundled in the middle.
Our host, local Sana’ani journalist Mafruz tells us to pick a small bundle to keep at our feet. As we chat about how awful the long-forgotten Hollywood-produced films are on the small black and white TV in the corner, and the forthcoming Yemeni presidential elections, we pluck the greenest, youngest leaves from the branches. The youngest leaves are the most potent as they contain more cathinone, producing a stronger and quicker hit.
Still rather unsure as what to do with the leaves once plucked and seeing that Mafruz and Fouad already have huge cheekfuls of qat, I ask for advice. I’m told to just put a few leaves in at a time, to chew them on one side of my mouth, suck the juices and push the chewed leaves into my cheek to make space for more.
I follow their instructions. The taste reminds me of trying cigarettes for the first time; it tastes disgusting and I’m by no means patient enough to wait for the possible effects.
I realise I must be pulling an appropriately disgusted face as Mafruz laughs and tells me I don’t need to carry on if I don’t want to. Worried I may have offended him (having already made a massive faux pas in not having bought and brought my own qat for the chew) I persevere and take a swig of my overly sweet mint tea.
Eventually, after a whole thirty minutes chewing, I make my excuses to a very amused Mafruz and Fouad and find the bathroom to spit it all out. But the chewed up pieces of leaves still stick in my cheek, under my tongue and in between my teeth. No amount of sweet tea seems to dislodge the remnants of my attempt to understand this national obsession.
Not wishing to seem any more rude than I’m worried I already do, I return to the mafrij and the qat-induced debate and resolve to brush my teeth as soon as I get back to my apartment.
For some the qat chew can last an hour or two, similar to a prolonged lunch-break or a siesta on the European continent. Our qat chew that day lasted well into the evening and as the call to prayer sounded out from the numerous minarets across the Old City, I was struck by how odd it was for a Muslim nation to readily consume a substance so clearly banned in the teachings of their faith.
But this is only one of the many contradictions qat poses on Yemeni society. The poorest Arab state, and one of the poorest countries in the world, it imports almost 90 per cent of its food. Yet it is estimated that nearly three quarters of arable land and a fifth of Yemen’s scarce water resources are used to grow qat.
The UK’s Department for International Development, one of the many overseas aid donors to this blighted arid country, has announced that it is to invest over £13million in water resource management in Yemen over the next four years. They certainly face an up-hill battle; farmers can earn up to five times more growing qat than they can any other crop. Weaning this country off its national habit so that it can be more self-sustaining will be no easy task.
Most Yemenis live on less than $2 a day, with a qat habit costing around $5 a week. As food prices shoot up in the world food crisis, Yemen is not facing the credit crunch as we are here in the West, but a ‘qat crunch’. Some families seem prepared to take their daughters out of school – a common problem in this extremely male-dominated, paternalistic society – in favour of retaining their qat dose.
In a small art gallery in the Old City, Assam, Fouad’s brother-in-law and ardent opponent of qat, points out a painting by a local artist. On one side of the canvas is a drawing of a man with his mouth full of qat, on the other side, a house.
“What do you think the meaning of this painting is?” asks Assam.
I shrug, not really knowing what to make of it.
“I think it means that artist thinks if you do not chew qat, you could build a house with all the money you have saved,” he states, staring at the picture.
I have no way of knowing if this was the artist’s intention, but it leaves me wondering what else Yemen could have built had it not been for qat.
NESTLED away at the end of the Arabian Peninsula, Yemen, the poorest country in the Arab world, is often overlooked, not only by the West, but also by its Arab brothers, popping up on the news agenda only thanks to the occasional kidnapping of foreign tourists or terrorist attack on American targets.
These blips in the Western media’s consciousness have been becoming more and more frequent in the recent months with the kidnappings and terrorist attacks becoming more audacious, coupled with a worsening economic and political situation in the country known to the Romans as Arabia Felix.
As the separatist movement in the south of the country gains momentum, President Ali Abdullah Saleh has issued statements insisting Yemen will not and cannot split, prompting concerns that Yemen may meet a similar fate to Somalia, whose many refugees flee across the straits of the Red Sea into Yemen.
The ancestral homeland of Osama bin Laden has also earned the unfortunate accolade as the next Afghanistan, with increasing numbers of Islamist fighters training in the country before heading to Iraq.
The poorest of the Arabian Peninsula states, Yemen has a rapidly growing population of 22 million that is expected to double by 2035. With over half of these Yemenis under the age of 16, illiteracy and unemployment are depressingly high, especially amongst women. As the world food prices crisis has hit, in a country heavily dependent on food imports, many families have pulled their daughters out of what they deem unnecessary education, thus exacerbating the problem.
Added to the poverty of the country are the complications of rapidly declining oil stocks, dwindling groundwater supplies, high numbers of jihadi fighters hiding out in the expansive desert, and a growing separatist movement in the south.
September’s attack on the US embassy has seen increased security precautions taken by foreign governments based in the country, but March’s attacks on South Korean official targets have shown that it is not only the US that needs to be careful in the country.
In recent years, Yemen had been developing a budding tourist industry, and it was near to one of its main attractions, the ancient city of Shibam – dubbed ‘Manhattan of the Desert’ by UNESCO – that four South Korean tourists were killed in an explosion, along with their Yemeni guide, in a possible suicide bomb.
Just four days later, a convoy of South Korean officials and bereaved family members from the first attack, was targeted by a road-side bomb whilst en route to Sana’a’s airport.
Although no one was injured in the second attack, South Korea’s experiences in the country, targeted for its continuing support of the US’s ‘War on Terror’ and participation in the Iraq and Afghanistan conflicts, have made many foreign governments increasingly fearful. The UK government has now advised against all but essential travel to the entire country and has removed many of its non-essential staff and their families from offices in the capital.
Adding to this concern is the continuance of kidnappings of foreign nationals. Usually confined to the lawless tribal areas of the far north and east, the two Dutch NGO workers kidnapped in March were taken from the streets of the capital Sana’a, previously considered one of the safer parts of the country for tourists and foreigners.
Released a matter of days later, the Dutch captives were not taken by the jihadists linked to the more concerning terrorist attacks, rather, like the many before them, they were taken by disgruntled tribesmen, this time from Bani Dhibyan, an inaccessible region, 90km south-east of the capital, bargaining for the handing over of perpetrators of an attack on their family a year earlier.
The vast expanse of Yemeni desert and the lawlessness of the north, where the state has been engaged in an ongoing low-level civil war with the Al Huthi movement and their supporters in Sa’dah, have provided a haven for Islamists.
The use of caves in the mountainous Saudi-Yemeni border for storing of weapons and supplies, as discovered last month, has created a cause of increasing concern for Yemen’s larger neighbour, Saudi Arabia. A concern that is shared by the US, prompting General David Petraeus to label Yemen a safe haven which could “threaten Yemen’s neighbours, especially Saudi Arabia and other Gulf states.”
In January, militants announced the creation of Al Qaeda in the Arabian Peninsula, a merger between the terror network’s Yemeni and Saudi branches, led by Naser Abdel-Karim al-Wahishi, a Yemeni who was once a close aide to bin Laden. According to security analysts, this has indicated a change in strategy of Al Qaeda in Yemen, moving from small attacks in Yemen to a longer-term view, providing shelter for Islamists returning from fighting in Iraq and Afghanistan and fleeing the crackdown in Saudi.
Since the attack on the USS Cole in 2000, Yemen has appeared on the US’s ‘front-line states’ list and Saleh has given his support to the US’s ‘War on Terror’.
Yemenis make up the largest national contingent of those remaining in Guantanamo, but prevailing insecurity in the country has prevented the US from releasing many of the Yemenis held at the prison.
Worried for his own survival, following calls for his removal and even assassination by Islamists angered by Saleh’s support of the US, the Yemeni president has sought help from the northern tribes who have come to recognise that the terrorists’ presence threaten their much needed development projects paid for with foreign aid.
Whilst not linked, the kidnappings and terrorist attacks give a prevailing sense of lawlessness in what was the Arabian Peninsula’s first democracy.
With universal suffrage introduced post-unification in 1993, Yemen has a centralised yet under-developed democratic structure. But this is unravelling fast, with this year’s parliamentary elections cancelled, or rather postponed until 2011, to allow for further electoral reforms.
The ageing president, Ali Abdullah Saleh has bound the country to him and his family through a complex web of marriages and alliances not only with the tribal north but also with opposition politicians through the distribution of oil rents.
This system of patrimonialism has ensured Saleh’s own political survival, but has greatly stifled any grassroots development of democracy.
Outside the urban centres of Sana’a, Taiz and Aden, most Yemenis vote for which ever politician promises to build their village’s much needed road, school, or clinic. Party allegiance means little when such parties are all in informal alliances together.
A great democratic step forward was made in 2006, during the last presidential elections. Although Saleh gained over three quarters of the vote, the Joint Meeting Parties (JMP)–a coalition of five usually squabbling and impotent opposition parties–fielded a serious contender in former oil minister Faisal bin Shamlan, engaging a generation of Yemenis who had no recollection of choice and separation of state and ruling party.
The lack of elections this year has provided a bone of contention for some Yemenis, eager to instil political change. But many either accept that their country does need the reforms called for by parliament or simply are not interested enough in the political process to express any dissent.
Constitutionally, Saleh should step down at the end of his current presidential term in 2013, few analysts within or outside the country believe Yemen will gain this political crossroads, with Saleh proposing constitutional changes and grooming his eldest son for succession.
But it is this patrimonial system that has alienated much of the south of the country who feel excluded from the lucrative business and political connections of the north. And it is this alienation, along with the memory of pre-unification prosperity, which is fuelling southern separatism; the greatest threat to Yemeni stability.
Unified with the north in 1990, but suffering an outbreak of civil war in 1994, the south has long felt discriminated against by Saleh and his government, with tensions worsening since the pension protests of retired soldiers from the disbanded southern army in the summer of 2007.
Recent weeks have seen increasing violence in the south after protests to mark the anniversary of unification. On one day alone last month, two protesters and a policeman were killed and 22 people injured after police clashed with demonstrators protesting at the continued presence of a military checkpoint outside the southern city of Lahj, some 300km south of Sana’a and 51 southerners were arrested for rioting in Hadramawt and Abyan.
Many Yemenis in the north dismiss the possibility of separation, insisting Yemen is now too inter-married and related to split along pre-unification lines, but the increased unrest has prompted Saleh to beg his country to realise the consequences of secession, saying: “You will be towns, sub-districts and statelets and there will be door-to-door fighting. No street will be safe and there will be no airplanes flying in the air or boats at sea coming to- or leaving from- Yemen.”
With conflicting reports of how serious the threat of secession really is– thanks to the forced closures of numerous outspoken newspapers and the withdrawal of many diplomatic in-country staff–Western governments have yet to form a co-ordinated response to the possible conflict. The European Union has released a statement calling for Yemen to denounce and end its violence. Aid to the beleaguered country has been stepped up, with the UK’s Department for International Development announcing that it is to invest over £13million in water resource management alone in Yemen over the next four years.
More projects that promote economic diversification away from the declining stocks of oil will be needed if Yemen is to avoid falling into further distress and conflict.
The failed state of Somalia already threatens trade routes through and Gulf of Aden. If Yemen follows suit, the chaos that could ensue will ensure that the country will no longer just appear as a blip on the global news agenda.
GIVEN the heat, her strappy top and low-rise white linen trousers would have been perfectly appropriate in her native Holland, but as the female intern from the Dutch embassy, walked down the street in Yemen’s capital of Sana’a, children threw stones and hollered abused at her for appearing as a whore. That is the punishment for attempting to withstand the cultural differences between the Muslim Middle East and the ‘liberal’ West.
Most foreign women living in Yemen, the poorest country in the oil-rich Arabian Peninsula, however, are sensitive enough to avoid such confrontations. Whilst not expected to wear an abaya (a long black kaftan that come to the ankles), maghramma (a black head scarf) or burqa (a veil covering the face, exposing only the eyes), most do sensibly choose to wear loose fitting clothing that covers their arms and legs, accessorising with a multi-coloured pashmina from one of the many souqs to cover their hair and shoulders.
None of which bothers Emily Allardyce, a former London OFSTED inspector from Ayrshire who has lived and worked as an education consultant in Yemen for the past nine years.
“My 60-year-old skin is due to be covered up and I hate UK fashions,” she remarks.
But it is not just in dress that Western women differ from their Yemeni counterparts. As a Western woman, Emily is able to somewhat transcend the social barriers imposed on men and women in Yemeni society.
Women and men typically lead very separate lives. Behind closed doors, and in female-only company, women are able to behave as they please. They dress in jeans and t-shirts, colour and style their hair, wear make-up, listen to pop music, dance and generally behave in a manner considered ‘normal’ in the West. The difference being that they hide behind shutters, even in the middle of the day, and when the doorbell rings, they quickly grab their maghramma and a loose fitting top in case the person at the door is not another woman or one of their male relatives. When outside they cover from head to toe in traditional black garb, regardless of the sweltering heat.
Men and women sit in separate eating areas in restaurants and cafes, attend school in separate classrooms, pray at the mosque at different times or different rooms. Even family wedding parties are held separately.
As a Western woman, unlike a Western man – who is confined to the male realm of the cultural divide – Emily is able to move between these divides. She considers this to be a “privilege”.
“Yemeni men seem to like working with foreign women. We can drive and go anywhere alone without trouble.”
This is indeed the general feeling amongst many foreign women in Yemen, but there are of course exceptions.
When Elizabeth*, an English Arabic student, travelled alone through the capital she had an unexpected encounter:
“I was in a debab [small mini-bus service that runs through the city] with just the driver and another male passenger, who was facing me and dressed in a traditional Yemeni male skirt that is worn like a kilt – i.e. with no pants underneath. During the journey he exposed himself and proceeded to pleasure himself in front of me. Luckily I got out of the debab without much further incident. But when I got home, it all seemed to get the better of me, and I burst into tears. I thought maybe I had done something to give him the wrong impression about me, as a Westerner.”
When Elizabeth told her teacher at her language institute about this, he told her that she should have loudly berated the man and hit him with her shoe as apparently this would have provoked an outraged response from driver and anyone else in ear-shot of the open-doored vehicle.
But, as Elizabeth explains: “Why would that have occurred to me? I wouldn’t do that if the same thing happened at home!”
The level of respect a Western woman commands, it seems, is not always the same from Yemeni man to Yemeni man.
During her time in Yemen, Louisa Glenn, an American student in Yemen, didn’t have as great a feeling of ‘privilege’ as Emily sees it.
“Being Western on top of being female added to the feeling that I was an object of curiosity. I felt as if we were in limbo.
“While I was indoors, I behaved much more like my Western self. But then I felt like I had to change my behaviour once I stepped outdoors.
“I definitely restrained myself and my behaviour, and at some times didn’t feel like myself at all. I did feel restricted, yes, mainly because I allowed myself to be intimidated and worried about how I appeared and what message I gave off to men.”
Whilst she was able to chew qat – a locally grown plant that acts as a mild amphetamine – in male company and even attended the male wedding parties, Louisa felt this was only possible, not only because she was Western, but because she had a male Yemeni escort accompanying her. Many of her activities when in Yemen – travelling alone, eating in the ‘public’ (usually male-only) sections of restaurants and even laughing in the street – were frowned upon by her male chaperone.
Ultimately, even if she has to restrict her behaviour somewhat, the Western woman is in a position of privilege in Yemeni society. Only she, and not her male counter-part, can move between the social groups, even if it is with a chaperone on occasion.
No man, Western or otherwise would have been able to go in to a Yemeni female hammam – a public spa, similar to a Turkish bath – and realise first hand the difference between Yemeni women in public, covered from head to toe, and behind closed doors. In that female-only sanctuary, free of the male expectations of their behaviour, sit Yemeni women, pouring steaming hot water on to themselves and scrubbing their skin with exfoliating pads, all completely naked and yet more surprisingly, completely comfortable with their nudity.
Western women, self-consciously wrapping towels around themselves, become the objects of amused stares and titters from the locals. Coming from an ‘unrestricted’ and ‘liberal’ culture where women walk around scantily clad every Friday night, pose nearly-nude in national newspapers and sunbathe topless on foreign holidays, it would seem that sometimes we could learn a lot from our Yemeni sisters.
(That’s “People’s Journalism – advancement through technology” to those of us who don’t speak German…)
Citizen journalism has been the main focus of our online media course so far and after having heard about the rise and fall of Scoopt – the photojournalism media agency – and the flaws in CNN’s iReport (burning haggis anyone?), I was very interested to read about German tabloid Bild’s promotion with supermarket Lidl to sell camcorders for just £61 to encourage “volksjournalismus”, citizen journalism.
Though there were the obvious protestations from photojournalists, who claim their profession is under threat, and media lawyers who fear the legal backlash, in the Media Guardian article Michael Paustian, the deputy editor-in-chief at Bild claims:
“The point of the citizen journalists is that they’re at off-diary events to which journalists haven’t been sent. At Bild it has created jobs – the specially established department which sifts through the picture material that’s sent through to us employs 10 people.”
And German media expert Christian Meier adds:
“It could lead to the improvement of standards as readers demand a higher quality – there is a big difference between a shaky video or blurred photo and good quality images.”
So will there be an advancement of journalism as a result of this new technology driving citizen journalism? Let’s hope whatever happens, it’s in our (the future generation of fully-fledged journalists) favour.
Calfornia and Washington have been called for Barack Hussein Obama giving him 273 electoral college votes, making him the 1st African American and the 44th President of the United States.
Whilst there will be a long struggle ahead – America has a massive budget deficit, it’s embroiled in two unpopular wars and the world is facing recession – but for now I think we can enjoy the historic moment that this is, even if it will be a very short honeymoon.
And now to bed.
Goodnight.
South Dakota has been called for McCain. Everyone’s waiting for California and Washington to come in as that will push Obama over the vital 270 figure. Given these states have consistently voted blue, it looks like we’ll have a clear winner very very soon…
South Dakota – 3
Aww I’ve just noticed the angry moustached former ambassador has left the BBC panel. His fury at Simon Schama amused me…
Nevada has an unusual (though in my humble opinion a more sensible and representative) system regarding distribution of Electoral College votes so it’s called 3 of its votes for McCain, but the other two are still disputed.
Nevada – 3
Is he pissed? He mentions that he’s been at the US Embassy election party but apparently Number 10 is “a shtop on my way home…” Hmm…
Kansas, Mississippi, Rhode Island and Wyoming were all called at some point, but I don’t know when…
Kansas – 6
Mississippi – 6
Rhode Island – 4
Wyoming – 3
Btw I’m loving how much Republicans are hating the BBC…
