The House of Hamza بيت حمزة

ابو بطانية vs. ابو لابتوب: Iraqi Elections 2010

There’s nothing new about corruption during election seasons. I’ve heard the argument made that corruption can be perceived as a “good thing” since it indicates that candidates are 1) legitimately invested in elections and 2) believe that votes are the sole determinants of who makes it into office. This argument is ludicrous for an endless list of reasons, one of the most obvious ones being that it’s completely ridiculous to view something as morally defunct as bribery in a positive light, especially in the context of a democratic process like elections.

I think it’s fair to say that there’s a consensus that corruption is, in fact, a bad thing. But I also think it’s fair to say that corruption is inevitable wherever money (or something of any worth) exists and stakes are high. Therefore, it’s no surprise that corruption is rampant in Iraq right now, four days ahead of the nation’s second parliamentary elections since the U.S. invasion. The presence of thousands of international monitors at the March 7th elections most probably means, and I would hope, that the individuals Iraqis vote for on Sunday are those who will actually sit in parliament once the election dust settles. This makes it all the more important for candidates to secure their votes now by any and all means necessary, especially since gaining a seat in parliament means gaining representation for your sect or ethnic group as well as gaining eligibility for prime ministership.

While corruption is commonplace around the world, I must hand it to the Iraqis for coming up with some notably creative ways of interpreting bribery. For your reading pleasure, here are some links of interesting bribery stories in Iraq. While I didn’t have a chance to include these in my latest column on Iraqi elections, do take a look at my latest spec column to get a general sense of electoral shams unfolding in Baghdad right now.

• Arabnews.com reports on how Iraq’s poor are caught in the middle of electoral politics.  

Reports have “election agents” from various parties popping up all over the country to buy the votes of those who either need the money or are disillusioned with the country’s political system and willing to sell their vote to the highest bidder. 

• The Guardian reveals how Maliki himself is openly and shamelessly partaking in bribery, giving tribes guns for votes.  

Maliki…has been photographed handing out guns to supporters in southern Iraq, engraved with a personal message from his office. However he denies that the delivery of weapons, along with cash payments, were improper.

• My personal favorite story of bribery is that of ابو بطانية : Maliki has accused Amar al-Hakim, leader of the Islamic Supreme Council of Iraq, and other Shiite leaders of distributing over 800,000 comforters to mosque-goers in return for votes in Sunday’s election.

  كم بطانية يمكن أن تشترى بثمانية مليارات دينار؟ 800 ألف بطانية أم النمر بحساب السوق اليوم، كانت ستأتي بها سيارات (ربما نفس السيارات التي قامت بالجريمة) لتوزعها على الناخبين الفقراء، ولا يستلم أحد منهم بطانيته إلا بعد أن يقسم بالعباس انه سينتخب تلك الجهة التي تنتمي اليها العصابة…

• If politicized comforters weren’t enough for you, Hakim has responded to Maliki’s allegations with his own response: that Maliki has been bribing the poor with laptops. 

 ولم يتأخر الرد المجلسي اذ سارع بالقول نعم المواطن لايمكن خداعه ببطانية وصوبة لان الاخرين يوزعون لابتوبات ودرجات وظيفية وقطع اراضي ومجالس اسناد وضروف فيها مبالغ مغرية !!!

I think it’s safe to say that luckily in Iraq, “everything is trending in the right direction” (AFP) now that elections are being decided by guns, laptops, and mattress comforters.

The House of Hamza

The name of this blog probably warrants an explanation. A couple of weeks ago, a dear friend granted me a miniature foam cow. Every time I would visit this friend, I would stare quizzically at the cow and wonder why 1) the friend had the cow, and 2) why the cow was on display for everyone to see. For some reason, I decided to ask the friend for the curious cow. My friend agreed to give it to me.

This cow is Hamza. But the naming of my blog has much less to do with the cow himself than with the time at which I received him. I was given Hamza at about the same time I began writing an op-ed column for the Columbia Daily Spectator. The column is about international politics, primarily the politics of the Middle East. The decision to write a column was a remarkably substantial one for me.

For the past nineteen and some odd years of my life, I’ve taken to keeping silent on issues of great contention, especially issues relating to Middle Eastern politics. My growing up in an Arab household in the NYC metro region contributed greatly to my reservations about discussing politics. That’s not to say that I was completely mute for the majority of my childhood. To the contrary, I’ve always considered myself to be very political but to a certain degree. My close circle of family and true friends always knew my true stances and opinions. But to my communities of peers and coworkers who I interacted with for the vast majority of my days, my political leanings were always murky at best.

I guess the most frustrating part about keeping silent is not being able to comment on things that need to be commented on or not being able to respond to things that are utterly idiotic. My decision to write for the Spec was largely impulsive so it’s not like I came to some sort of philosophical turning point in my life. I can’t say that I’ve regretted the decision, though. While my decision to write was made on the fly, the writing process itself has had a significant impact on me. Talking about real world issues means talking about “serious stuff,” and in a sense writing my column means growing up from the complacency of youth to the opinionated discourse of adulthood.

I guess this is where Hamza comes back into the picture. Hamza is a toy, a throwback to the childhood days of just sitting back and letting the world take its course. I didn’t realize I’d take so much pleasure in having Hamza when I asked my friend for him (her?), but I strangely enough love carrying him in my bag from class to class, proudly showing him off to acquaintances of both new and old. The juxtaposition of having and enjoying to have Hamza with my writing about serious stuff resulted in this blog.

I’m looking at this blog as a toy of sorts, just like Hamza. While my articles aren’t naturally funny or smile-inducing, I think it will be fun to share pieces with you and more importantly start conversations I should have started years ago. So please comment, refute, and tear apart my posts. I promise I’ll comment back and be equally critical of you.

There are lots of houses in the world today.  Fashion houses, houses that represent grand legacies,  houses that represent brutal dynasties. And of course there’s the one, House. This house, بيت حمزة, won’t try to espouse any ideologies or drive home any one message. Simply put, this blog will just be my running commentary on developments in the Middle East. There will be songs, links, videos, articles, and a lot of unedited brainstorming on how things should be done in the world.

As for the naming of Hamza himself, that’s a whole other story. A hotly contentious one, at that.