Fawzia Zouari: There are days when I regret being born Arabic! Fawzia Zouari, Tunisian journalist and writer, Doctor of French and comparative literature at the Sorbonne. published in Jeune Afrique the May 2, 2014 this remarkable article that I have to disseminate as widely as possible: There are days when I regret being born Arab. On days when I wake up at the sight of shaggy jaws ready to kill in the name of Allah and when I fall asleep with the sound of explosions broadcast on background of Koranic verses. On days when I look at the corpses littering the streets of Baghdad and Beirut by the fault of suicide bombers; where penguins blind sheikhs and assume the right to issue fatwas because they are full as bottles of hatred and bloodshed; I see girls, some run their bodies protect their mother that stones and other take the wedding dress at the age of 9 years. And these days when I hear Christian sobbing mothers entrust their offspring converted to Islam refuses to touch the pretext that they are impure. When I hear this cry Muslim father because he does not know why his son went to be killed in Syria. At the time of this parade on the outskirts of Aleppo, Kalashnikov slung, waiting to feast on a kid coming from the suburbs of Tunis and London, who were led to believe that rape is a pass to heaven. These days when I see Bill Gates spend their money for African children and François Pinault for artists of their continent, while the Gulf sheikhs squander their fortune in casinos and houses of charm and it does not come the idea moguls Maghreb think unemployed bursting hunger, the poet who lives underground, to the artist who has no money to buy a brush. And all those believers who think they are the inventors of the powder so they do not know to tie a tie, and Im not talking about their inability to make a tablet or a car. The same people who count the miracles of science in the Quran and are without the smallest knowledge capable of reducing disease. I do not! The West, these preachers full of arrogance and vomiting, although they can not do without their phones, medication, its progress in all genres. And the cacophony of these revolutions that fall between obscurantist hands as the fruit of the tree. These Islamists who talk about democracy and do not believe a word, who claim to respect women and treat them as slaves. And these gourds that veiled and bend instead of sniffing the trap, claiming the status of co-wife, complementary, less than nothing! And these niqabées which in Europe, take a perverse pleasure in shocking good or good Belgian Gauls as if it was a feat to get out in diver! As if it was a way to grow Islam as present in its most retrograde attire. These days, finally, where I seek salvation and not find it anywhere, not even with an Arab intellectual elite raging on antennas and ignores the field, vituperates day and ends in the bars at night, talking principles and sells for a few dollars, which makes noise and is useless! That was my fifteen minutes of anger against mine. Whew!
Posted on: Tue, 05 Aug 2014 12:14:24 +0000
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