May 27, 2005, 8:07 a.m.
Davos in Jordan, Part IV

Friends, we’re going to wrap up this series, or journal. We began on Tuesday with Part I, and marched through Parts II and III. In case you’ve joined us late: The World Economic Forum — renowned for its annual meeting in Davos, Switzerland — held a weekend conference at the Dead Sea in Jordan, as it has done for the last three years (since the American invasion/liberation of Iraq). The focus is the Middle East, and how to “seize the moment” that now presents itself.

So, shall we continue? This is a point I’ve made a lot, but that I wish to repeat: At conferences like this, and elsewhere, we are told constantly that the West doesn’t understand Islam. We don’t understand Islam, we misrepresent Islam, we lie about Islam — etc., etc.

Fine. But has anyone stopped to question the Islamic world’s view of Judaism and Christianity? Do you read MEMRI.org? How routine is it for a range of commentators to describe Jews and Christians — especially the former — as descendants of apes and pigs (or is it dogs and apes? I forget). How frequently is the blood libel spread? How frequently is that czarist forgery, The Protocols of the Elders of Zion, invoked? Egyptian state TV based a mini-series on it.

When Western organs address Islam, it tends to be in tones of reverence. I mean, an Oriana Fallaci is a shocking exception.

And yet the perpetual wail is only one way: that the West doesn’t understand Islam. As my Muslim friends say, it’s “Islamic” haters and perverters who truly don’t understand Islam.

Al-Arabiya — the TV network that’s not al-Jazeera — holds a debate. The subject is, “What Will It Take to Unleash an Arab Renaissance?” (not that all want such a renaissance — trust me). The participants make an interesting crew: Amr Moussa, the Arab League honcho; Prince Turki al-Faisal, formerly Saudi Arabia’s intelligence chief and now its ambassador to the U.K.; an official from the Shamil Bank of Bahrain, Khalid Abdulla-Janahi; Hoshyar Zebari, the foreign minister of Iraq; Bassam I. Awadallah, the finance minister of Jordan; and . . . Liz Cheney.

Let me tell you, quickly, how Mr. Abdulla-Janahi’s bank is described, because it’s interesting: “a premier Islamic financial institution dedicated to developing, arranging, and distributing Sharia-compliant financial products and services worldwide.”

Probably the most astonishing figure on this panel is Mr. Awadallah, the Jordanian finance minister. He speaks with a candor that is almost unknown in this part of the world, certainly from a high government official (even in a moderate country like Jordan). He laments “the regression of the Arab countries,” and suggests how it might be attacked. I’ll be back to him later.

And Zebari, of course, is masterly. He speaks of a “wave” in the Middle East that “cannot be stopped.” For “this is a matter of popular demand. Society wants change, and people are tired of being marginalized.” Zebari quotes the slogan of the Egyptian opposition: “Kifaya” (“Enough”). He will quote it yet more times in the course of the debate, for he is jabbing a nemesis, Amr Moussa (formerly the Egyptian foreign minister, and a personification of the Old Guard).

The ex-Saudi intelligence chief begins his remarks in the ritualistic fashion: “In the name of God, most compassionate, most merciful . . .” I can’t help wondering how much compassion and mercy Prince Turki himself has shown in his career.

Al-Arabiya has commissioned a survey, finding that Arabs are hungry for political change, for the kind of governance that really free peoples enjoy. Prince Turki rebukes the poll, dismissing it as illegitimate — and he won’t be the only one, as we will see.

Liz Cheney speaks beautifully, remarking that “people are demanding a voice” and “asking their governments to respond.” There seems to be no quailing in her; she holds up the American end — certainly the Bushian end — admirably.

And as tough as I’ve been on Amr Moussa, I have to hand it to him: He takes on the notion that political liberalization must follow economic liberalization, as a law of history. What about China? Is it not making a mockery of this “law”? Moussa also says that “the Arab street” is not demanding upheaval so much as a lessening of “bureaucracy and red tape.”

It occurs to me that the Amr Moussas — and the Lakhdar Brahimis — have the opportunity to be great men. They, the Old Guard, can usher in a new order, securing their places in history. When the call of the people came — they answered. Or, they can dig in, and be swept away (that is, if this revolution, or possible revolution, succeeds).

Bassam Awadallah, the Jordanian finance minister? I swear, I can hardly believe he is a lieutenant to an Arab king. He speaks like a scholar of the American Enterprise Institute: markets, democracy, transparency, rights, the rule of law, opportunity, opportunity, opportunity. He might as well be Jack Kemp, c. 1978, by the sound of him. “We see Arabs in the U.S. and Europe succeeding. Why can’t they succeed here?” he asks. “The answer is that we’re not giving liberty to people.” Ay, caramba!

Next, Prince Turki — getting uncomfortable — plays the Palestinian card. Before any change can legitimately take place in the Middle East, “the Palestinians must be freed.” For “this is a bleeding wound of 60 years’ duration, and it is impacting us negatively.” Why the Palestinian situation demands that Saudi Arabia — or any other country — be a police state, he does not say. They never do.

And I have a biographical tidbit for you: He was educated at Princeton, Cambridge, and Georgetown.

The moderator, Mohannad Khatib, has a question for Liz Cheney: “For decades, the United States supported the status quo in the Middle East. Why are you changing now?” Liz does not blink or dispute. She says, “You’re exactly right. We did support the status quo, in the mistaken belief that this was necessary for stability. But as we learned on September 11, supporting the status quo does not make for stability.”

Then Moderator Khatib turns to some special guests in the audience. The first is the very, very familiar James Zogby, the Arab-American spokesman. He isn’t too happy with the Arabiya poll, charging that the network “stacked the deck.” He cites a poll of his own, arguing that common Arab people care most about Palestine, “a hurt that doesn’t end.” He clearly wants to throw cold water on this idea that Arabs are yearning for political and social liberation. He says they want health care, education — and Palestine. He claims to know the hearts and minds of the Arabs. And he seems truly offended by the idea that Western democrats — or any democrats, including those in the former Soviet bloc — have anything to teach or offer the Arab world. It is staggering that the Jordanian finance minister is reformist, and America’s own Jim Zogby . . . not.

At least, that is the impression Zogby gives, to me. He seems at one with Prince Turki.

I’ve remarked that the Arab Old Guard at this conference seems nervous — even frightened to death. Jim Zogby seems to share that anxiety. If Israeli iniquity is not the only story in the Middle East: what might be demanded of Arab governments and elites? For that matter, what might be demanded of the individual Arab?

Richard Gere is next to speak. To his credit, he says he has “sympathy” for both sides of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. He goes on to endorse what Zogby has said, declaring, “Freedom is a strange word” (no, it isn’t). So forget freedom (says Gere, essentially): “Feeding kids is something we all understand. We have to begin there, and then think of other possibilities.”

Yes, that old fallacy. Like so many pathetic others, Gere sees no connection whatever between freedom and material prosperity. He thinks it’s either/or, or a matter of priorities. Most of the world is not like China: Where you have oppression, you have poverty — certainly no health care and education; where you have liberty — cars, air conditioning, obesity . . .

To conclude, Gere says, “We are the same,” all the world’s people. “Our differences are so small, they’re ridiculous.”

Prince Turki has the floor again, unfortunately, alleging “assaults on Muslims in the U.S. and Britain.” Oh? He also blesses what Jim Zogby has said.

The moderator then asks one of the Questions of the Weekend: What if democracy brings “rule by clergy”? Amr Moussa responds that “no liberal force is ready and prepared to lead”; therefore, if we open the democratic floodgates — Fundamentalist City. But Minister Awadallah makes the key point about republicanism: “If Islamic parties respect minority rights, if they respect pluralism,” then there should be no problem. Liz Cheney jumps in to say that it is “racist” and “prejudicial” to assume that Arabs don’t want the same rights that other people want, and deserve. No one, anywhere, “wants a knock on the door in the middle of the night.” She then speaks about her “little girls,” at home, and the sort of future she desires for them. I have the feeling that Liz knows she is speaking to a very large Arab audience. She is making the most of it.

Prince Turki keeps talking, and talking. He is quite a filibusterer, it turns out. He’s no democrat, but he’d make a fine Democrat. Inadvertently, he says something hilarious. Moderator Khatib has asked an enormous question: “What is the key to security in the Middle East?” Prince Turki replies that, “if I knew, I’d have a patent on it — and I’d be extremely rich.”

Um, it’s kind of unseemly for the obscenely rich to make a joke like that! I mean, can you imagine that out of Rocky’s mouth? (I speak of Nelson, not Balboa.)

I must give Hoshyar Zebari, the Iraqi foreign minister, the last word. And it concerns words. He points out that, in Arab League discussions, his counterparts were reluctant even to use the word “reform”; it had to be “modernization,” somehow less threatening.

Yes, they’re sweating bullets, and not just from the Dead Sea heat.

An outstanding participant in these Davos conferences — including the ones in Jordan — is A. C. Grayling, the English philosopher, writer, columnist, and leftist. He is a complete pleasure to talk with, a gentle man, reasonable, humane. Very unlike the leftists I have met in my own country. He’s the type of man you’d want in the classroom, or entrust your kids’ education to (at least part of it). Anthony does not hate you if you disagree with him. He does not treat conservatives as subhuman, as our professors — and many of our media bigs — do. He possesses a tolerant and democratic spirit.

As many of us frequently say, a lefty who is decent is worth his weight in gold.

I remark on his perpetual curiosity about life, the wonder he feels about life, his determination to add knowledge (to his considerable store). He seems excited by the world around him, like the freshest student, with no jadedness, weariness, or cynicism about him. He recites to me a statement by an ancient Chinese scholar, Yuan Mei: “The moment I awake, I long for my library and bound towards it, swift as a thirsty cat” — there is so much to discover.

After the conference, I set off to Petra, about three hours away by car. A friend of mine — a journalist of wide experience, including travel — has described Petra as no less than “the most beautiful place on earth.” And it’s not bad, this ancient stone city, lost — that is, unknown, unfound — for centuries. My guide says that not many Americans visit (despite the city’s being featured in an Indiana Jones flick). He says that it’s because the U.S. media misportray Jordan and the Middle East. I disagree: I think it’s because Americans at large don’t know about Petra. When they think Middle Eastern antiquities, they think Egypt — they want to see the Pyramids, King Tut, maybe float down the Nile . . .

A trivial point? Maybe not so trivial. You know how I’ve complained that the only diet pop you can get in New York restaurants is Diet Coke (this is a general rule)? Well, in Jordan, everywhere, you can get Diet Pepsi and Diet 7 Up. I mean, they are standard, those two choices: a diet cola, and a diet un-cola. On one menu I peruse, Diet 7 Up is written, simply, “Diet Up.” I love that. “I’ll have a Diet Up.”

Have to tell you, I am slightly unnerved to see, in a different restaurant, “Jew’s Marrow Stew, with Meat.”

I encounter a most remarkable entrepreneur, a Jordanian Palestinian, or a Palestinian Jordanian, if you like. He was brought up in Kuwait — and speaks to me at length about discrimination against Palestinians in Kuwait, Jordan, Syria. You may finish at the top of your class, but you are still kept back professionally, he says. A Palestinian has to be three times better than “native” others to land a job — and even that may not be good enough. This fellow longs to be free of onerous taxation and regulation, to make his business grow. I swear, when I listen to him, I’m listening to the most natural Reaganite in the world. And I condemn societies that keep people down, blocking their dreams. It’s one thing, I suppose, if you can’t make it on your own effort and talent; it’s another if anti-meritocratic arrangements thwart you, depriving you of a chance.

I ask my new friend a slightly mischievous question: “Are we in the Palestinian state” (meaning Jordan, of course, where over half the people are Palestinian)? He says, “Yes! We Palestinians make up the private sector. We’re the ones who work and pay the taxes. And the government takes our money and gives it to the military, which protects the government from us.”

Last, I will tell you this: He says one of the most striking things I’ve ever heard: “We never have any ex-presidents” in this part of the world. Oh, how wonderful it would be to see an ex-president! “You in the West have ex-presidents. Here, you’re president for life. If you’re not president anymore, it’s because you’re dead.” But won’t Abu Mazen be an ex-president? I ask. My friend is highly skeptical.

So, there is one possible definition of freedom: Where it reigns, you have ex-presidents.

I leave one Muslim state to fly to another, Holland. And then from there, home, to New York. That night, there is a tribute concert to Renata Tebaldi, and the next day I will speak with two of the moral-political giants of our time, Sharansky and Havel (in separate cities). But we will leave that to future articles. I can’t blow my wad all at once, can I? I’ll see you, and thanks so, so much for joining me.