shifting borders: america and the middle east /north...
TRANSCRIPT
Alex LubinEditor
Nancy Batakji SanyouraAssociate Editor
Lisa Arnold, Emily Tess WolterstorffEditorial Assistants
Proceedings of the Fourth International Conference Sponsored by The Prince Alwaleed Bin Talal Bin Abdulaziz Alsaud Center for American Studies and Research at the American University of Beirut
Shifting Borders: America and the Middle East /North Africa
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Designed and produced by the Office of Communications at AUB | 2014
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Shifting Borders: America and the
Middle East /North Africa
Alex LubinEditor
Nancy Batakji SanyouraAssociate Editor
Lisa Arnold, Emily Tess WolterstorffEditorial Assistants
Proceedings of the Fourth International Conference Sponsored by The Prince Alwaleed Bin Talal Bin Abdulaziz Alsaud Center for American Studies and Research at the American University of Beirut
Shifting Borders: America and the Middle East /North Africa
Table of Contents
Preface
Introduction 13 Alex Lubin
Opening Remarks 19 Patrick McGreevy
Remarks at the Opening of CASAR’s Fourth Biennial Conferenceon “Shifting Borders: America and the Middle East/North Africa” 23
Ahmad Dallal
Opening Comments 27Rami G. Khouri
Interdependencies
The United States of Al-Andalus:Islam and the Critique of Covenantalism in Washington Irving 43
Adam John Waterman
Routes and Itineraries of Culture in the New Mediterranean:Or, Algiers, Capital of Modernity 51
Jonathan H. Shannon
©2014 American University of Beirut Press
First Edition
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All rights reserved.
This publication may not be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the American University of Beirut Press.
The findings, interpretations, and conclusions expressed in this book are entirely those of the authors and should not be attributed in any manner to the American University of Beirut, to its affiliated organizations, or to members of its Board of Trustees.
For permission to reprint a page or more of this publication, submit a request by phone at +961-1-350000 ext. 2519 or email [email protected]
Printed in Beirut, Lebanon
ISBN 978-9953-586-06-9
6 7
Reimagining Pilgrimage:Shifting Our Reading of Melville, Twain, and Others for Today 65
Basem L. Ra‘ad
From the West Coast to Tangier:Translocal Hip-Hop in the New Morocco 81
Cristina Moreno Almeida
Shifting the Periphery
“That is No Country for Old Men”:Shifting of Literary Borders by “Merit”-Based EgyptianFiction Writers 95
Osama Madany
Arab Occidentalism:Images of America in Egyptian Fiction and Cinema 107
Eid Mohamed
The Anglo-American Lives of Ras Beirut 121Maria Bashshur Abunnasr
Translating Revolution:Khayri Hammad Reads Hannah Arendt 135
Jens Hanssen
Up in the Air and on the Skin:Wafaa Bilal, Drone Warfare, and the Human Terrain 147
Ronak K. Kapadia
Averted Gazes, Deferred Consumption:Osama bin Laden’s Cinematic Life and Death 165
Paul Jahshan
Textual BorderlandsCo-constructing America and Pakistan:Hybridity and Transculturality in Pakistani English Fiction 181
Shirin Zubair
Border Shifting in Naomi Nye’s Habibi 195 Tawfiq Yousef
At the Border of the Imagination:Crossing Over from Arab to Arab American 207
Salah D. Hassan
On the Road to Democracy: Spoken-Word Poetry Poeticizing the Revolution 217
Maha El Said
“Egypt . . . isn’t that in Switzerland?” American Cartoons and the Egyptian Revolution 235
Walid El Hamamsy
Geopolitics
Arab Spring or New Arab Cold War? Revolutions, Counter-Revolutions, and U.S. Foreign Policy in the Middle East 253
Osamah Khalil
“Black May” in Lebanon? U.S. Intervention and the Lebanese Crisis of 1973 263
Nate George
When the Qur’an was America’s Weaponfor Freedom in the Middle East: Muhammad Siblini and the Defeat of the Axis in North Africa 281
Sean Foley
8
Tercer Mundo Otra Vez: Latin America, Arab Africa, and Arab Asia Challenge Neo-Liberalism 295
Jaime Veve
Locating Palestine
The U.S. Academic Left and the Movements to Boycott Israel 307Malini Johar Schueller
Native American and Indigenous Studies and the Ethical Question of Boycotting Israel 321
J. K haulani Kauanui
Contesting the Foreign/Domestic Divide:Arab Revolutions and American Studies 331
Rabab Ibrahim Abdulhadi
TEXTUAL BORDERLANDS
235
“Egypt . . . isn’t that in Switzerland?” American Cartoons and the Egyptian Revolution
Walid El Hamamsy
Cairo University
Introduction
The question quoted in the title of this paper is actually a firsthand reaction
I once received from an American citizen during a visit to the U.S. Inasmuch
as her question can be interpreted as a simple cultural faux pas, it has deeper
ramifications in that it is symptomatic of the reluctance to approach cultural
“otherness” and the contentment with border thinking that besets many
Western cultures. In this paper, I examine two types of popular hemispheric
American reaction to Egypt’s 2011 revolution (January 25–February 11):
American cartoons produced by a variety of U.S. artists and the work of
Brazilian cartoonist Carlos Latuff. This comparison shows two undercurrents
that I consider within a transnational context. I show how the former group’s
cartoons do not exceed the boundaries of essentialist Orientalist cultural
symbology, whereas Latuff’s work constitutes an example that bypasses the
limitations of stereotypical representation. I also highlight the widespread
circulation of Latuff’s work among Egyptians as proof of the success of
such examples of South-South dialogue. Additionally, I analyze a number of
factors that have led to the success of Latuff’s work, which helps underscore
the consequences of Orientalist representations on cultural dialogue between
the U.S. and the Arab world.
American Orientalism Post-Said
In a recent lecture given on Edward Said’s birthday, John Carlos Rowe1 built on
Said’s notion of European Orientalism2 to develop his own view of American
post-Said Orientalism. Showing how American Studies has paid relatively
little attention to Arab and Islamic cultures until recently, Rowe proposes
that the latter has been “feminized, marginalized, minoritized, and above
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all linguistically and culturally excluded from . . . Western discourse.”3 He
traces the shift American Orientalism has undergone since Said toward what
he terms “internalization” – a strategy by which the traditional “Orient” is
“domesticated” and “displaced” within the U.S. context, directly serving U.S.
imperial expansion. Creating “American Talibans” and “American Iranians”
(Rowe’s examples focus on John Walker Lindh and Azar Nafisi), this new
American Orientalism gains a fresh vantage point through which to create
cultural narratives wherein the protagonists “are rendered ‘representative’
Americans, whereas the Middle Eastern actors are generally demonized as
‘enemy combatants’ or at best subaltern ‘mediators.’”4
North/Central American Cartoons: Internalization or Exoticization
Though I agree with Rowe’s above analysis inasmuch as it applies to the
examples he analyzes, in this paper I argue that his thesis of internalization does
not fully apply to the Egyptian model as exemplified through representations
of the revolution in many American cartoons. In the samples I tackle below,
Egyptian culture is in fact far from internalized by American discourse. For
even if they do not demonize, sexualize, and racialize this Egyptian “other,”
such cartoons exoticize the Egyptian citizen for their American audiences,
reducing representation of the former to a set of pyramids, sphinxes,
mummies, and camels. And many of the Egyptians seen in these cartoons are
visually and metaphorically projected onto such a distant historical plain that
the pyramid-dwelling Egyptian represented therein would mean absolutely
nothing to the modern iPad-carrying, Facebook-using, Twitter-hashtagging
American citizen.
Consider, for instance, Clay Bennett’s cartoon, “Egypt,”5 showing an
Egyptian man removing the top of the pyramid of autocracy (the three letters
“AUT” of the word “AUTOCRACY”) with two pairs of men by his side
waiting to replace it with one of two alternative tops: “THEOCRACY” or
“DEMOCRACY” (represented by another two sets of three letters: “DEM”
and “THE”). Although these terms have a serious and direct bearing on
Egypt’s future, the cartoon is detached from the two alternatives, implying
that it does not matter which one is chosen in the end: building pyramids is
what Egyptians do best. And if Bennett’s pyramid stands for Egypt, Marshall
Ramsey’s cartoon6 represents the despot, Mubarak, himself. Ramsey’s piece
follows logically in the footsteps of the previous cartoon. For what space
would the pyramid-dwelling Egyptians inhabit except the desert, exposed
to sandstorms, the description he aptly chooses to caption his cartoon?
Ultimately, however, it is Steve Breen’s “The Camel’s Nose”7 that exposes
the ideology behind such cartoons. Not only is Egypt holistically lumped
together as an Arabian Nights-inspired tent, but the tent itself is immersed
in total darkness. The camel dubbed “democracy” – the only living creature
in the cartoon – is shown nosing under the tent’s rim and seems to pose the
question: Can a bunch of Bedouins lumped in a tent get beyond a “camel’s
nose” of democracy within the bounds of their dark ignorance? The piece’s
cultural biases (symbolically represented by the tent, camel, and darkness) are
too obvious to warrant any elaboration.
Naturally, in such and similar cartoons, pharaonic symbols abound. Take,
for example, Bill Day’s Mubarak-Sphinx8 crushing the fragile and almost
invisible flower of democracy between his toes; Henry Payne’s use of the same
Mubarak-Sphinx symbol9 answering the Sphinx’s riddle about what happens
to dictators who rig elections; or Dana Summers’s black-suited Mubarak10
being carried, in a mummy posture, by protestors into the “Cairo Museum
of Antiquities.” Summers’s cartoon is especially intriguing not only because
no such institution exists – unless what is meant is “The Museum of Egyptian
Antiquities,” – but also because of the visual symbolism of Mubarak’s black
suit, white shirt, and red necktie, which together represent the colors of the
Egyptian flag. The message is ambiguous: Is it Mubarak going to history’s
museum, or Egypt itself, which is metonymically represented through its flag?
The implicit answer seems to be, once again: Who cares? The mummy and
museum are there!
In such cartoons, cultural distance is maintained. As a cartoonist, you
are asked to produce a piece on Egypt and revolution, you toss in all the
symbols you can imagine about Egypt and mix them with yet another symbol
that connotes revolution. Presto, there you have it! But this formula ignores
that there are real people behind the revolution and that the revolution
itself is real. Take how social networking and internet sites – key factors
in disseminating calls for protest and countering the brutality of the former
regime – have been highlighted and analyzed by various researchers.11 Egypt’s
“electronic revolution” is reduced to a set of signal-transmitting pyramids
in Matt Davies’s12 “Talk Like an Egyptian.”13 Here, the internet becomes
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“Egypt . . . isn’t that in Switzerland?”Textual Borderlands
a pyramid when it “travels” to Egypt, standing erect on Egyptian sand
against a background of unidentifiable sand dunes. Alas, there are no people
in this “antique land”! Or consider Chris Britt’s “Egypt’s Ancient Desire
for Freedom,”14 in which the only people shown are pharaohs facing an
overpowering and threatening Anubis-like Egypt. In this cartoon, the Twitter
logo becomes yet another hieroglyph on another temple wall. Egyptian internet
is thus “Pharaonicized.” The status of this image is especially problematic
due to the placement of the pharaohs (demonstrator stand-ins), barred by
lines from the Twitter logo above and another hieroglyph-like inscription,
“Freedom,” below them. Can pharaohs tweet? Can they ever have access
to freedom? The logical inconsistency of pharaohs using Twitter seems to
imply an answer in the negative. More confounding is why demonstrators
are shown confronting a repressive Egypt, when the demonstrators’ aim is
precisely to liberate that Egypt – and themselves – from the tight grip of
dictatorship. Representing Egypt as the evil enemy in this context seems
to reveal much ignorance and lack of genuine interest in facts and realistic
representation. Clearly, the focus is covering the revolution rather than the
nature of the revolution.15
Reception: The Ideological Context
Though one can go on analyzing an endless number of examples,16 what I
would like to consider now is the reception of such cartoons by their subject
matter and their audience. For far from aiming to incite hostility or hatred
toward the revolution, such cartoons are mostly sympathetic to the protests
and their instigators. Herein precisely lies their danger, for such cartoons end
up distorting the Egyptian reality they seek to represent. And I, an Egyptian
protestor and protest-supporting citizen, do not see myself in them. They do
not speak to, represent, or resonate with me in any meaningful way. They
do not, in fact, do anything but provide a touristic view of the revolution. In
these cartoons, I remain under the other’s gaze, just as Rob Rogers’s tourists
look at a Mubarak mummy through a magnifying glass in his cartoon,
tellingly entitled “Ancient Egypt.”17 Except in these cartoons, it is the reader,
not Mubarak, who is “mummified” and “stuck in the past” with these silly
stereotypical images.
In so diluting and distancing the Egyptian reality, there is very little to
which the average American, the cartoons’ presumed target audience, can
relate. For this audience, the Egyptian revolution takes place within temples
and museums. The latent pervasive ideology that is leaked through such
popular representations has wider ramifications beyond the quotidian. The
most dangerous political consequence of this visual representation lies in
absolving the American citizen, and by extension the Obama administration,
of any moral responsibility toward the Egyptian revolution, be that in the
form of support or pressure. It is a pharaoh’s business, a revolution in
hieroglyphics. There is nothing for present-day Americans to meddle with in
this ancient land’s revolution except voyeuristic observation.
Carlos Latuff: Bridging the Cultural Gap
Turning now to the other typology of popular representation of the revolution,
I argue that Carlos Latuff’s work is diametrically opposed to the above
samples, precisely bridging the cultural distance that such examples do not
dare approach. Thus, while they remain distant, disengaged, and politically
sterilized, Latuff’s work gets down and dirty; it is involved, representative,
and realistic. But what are the features that characterize Latuff’s cartoons,
and which have contributed to Egyptians’ immediate identification with
them?
Cultural Specificity: From Pharaohs to Flesh and Blood
A key reason that Latuff’s cartoons have immediately resonated with
Egyptians is that his work represents real Egyptians with real concerns.
Any cursory look at his cartoons would show contemporary figures with
whom Egyptians would instantaneously recognize and identify. For example,
Khaled Said – a young Alexandrian tortured to death at the hands of police
forces and one of the major reasons behind the protests of January 25 – is
represented in one cartoon standing triumphant with a dangling, sweating,
and dwarfed Mubarak between his fingers (Image 1).18 In another cartoon,
Khaled Said is depicted wearing a t-shirt in the form of a map of Egypt
representing all Egyptians, roaring at his compatriots to “wake up,” which
deafens yet another identifiable figure, Habib El Adly, Minister of the
Interior, at whose forces’ hands Khaled was beaten to death.19 Dina Abdel
Rahman, a TV talk show host fired from Dream TV by the Supreme Council
for Armed Forces (SCAF) for criticizing their actions, is shown in another
cartoon being violently silenced by a member of SCAF (Image 2). Another
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“Egypt . . . isn’t that in Switzerland?”Textual Borderlands
cartoon focuses on Hazem Abdel Azim, a Minister of Telecommunications
with politically progressive views, who was excluded from cabinet in July
before taking the oath upon alleged accusations spread by SCAF about his
dealings with Israeli telecommunication companies; the cartoon shows a
member of SCAF tripping him, using the suspicious and disrespected (in the
eyes of many) tabloid The Seventh Day (السابع deployed by SCAF to ,(اليوم
spread its allegations about him.20 The use of such culture-specific figures
connotes Latuff’s understanding of the events, despite his physical distance
from them. Unlike the earlier samples, the inclusion of such real figures
within the cartoons signals a genuine engagement with key turning-points in
the history of the revolution.
Even when drawing less immediately recognizable laypeople, Latuff’s
work is marked by variety and reflects the diversity and reality of Egyptian
citizens, thus enhancing viewers’ identification with his work. Take, for
instance, the young male football player clad in the colors of the Egyptian
flag with “January 25” transcribed on his uniform: he gives Mubarak a
kick on the bottom, the latter shown as a ball thrown helplessly in mid-air
(Image 3).22 Or consider the young veiled woman, dressed in almost identical
colors, tweeting away with a threatening SCAF snake waiting behind her
back (Image 4).23 The latter is a reference to accusations against activist
Asmaa Mahfouz for inciting violence against SCAF through Twitter, yet the
fact that her face is hardly visible in the cartoon highlights instead her status
as an average young Egyptian woman and pays tribute to women’s general
participation in the revolution. Though I focus on these two examples, it
must be noted that Latuff’s cartoons tend to reflect real Egyptian society and
values, portraying a variety of citizens, from male to female, veiled to non-
veiled, young to old – as shown in his cartoon of three ghosts of martyrs of
the revolution, who are dressed in the colors of the Egyptian flag and shout
“democracy” at a tortured SCAF member running away from their screams.24
The image simultaneously acknowledges the diversity of the demonstrators as
well as the reality of blood spilled and lives lost – a fact especially appreciated
by Egyptian dissidents in light of SCAF’s shift in discourse and constant
attempts to misrepresent martyrs and activists as baltagiya (thugs) through its
manipulation of state-owned media, which is seen by many as a propaganda
machine for SCAF.
A Visual Archive
The significance of Latuff’s work lies both in its immediacy and its continuity.
Put together, his cartoons visually constitute a chronological timeline of the
Egyptian revolution. For example, in one cartoon (Image 5), Latuff explicitly
condemns Vodafone for its January 28th blockade of internet services by the
government.25 In another, referring to the February 11th Egyptian victory at
Mubarak’s resignation, Latuff depicts young democracy taking Mubarak’s
place.26 In other cartoons, Latuff depicts the July 8th demonstrations that
called for the immediate prosecution of former officials,27 as well as the
threats made by SCAF’s General Fangari to the same demonstrators; here,
Fangari is depicted as a marionette with a hidden Mubarak as his actual
puppeteer (Image 6).28 Additionally, Latuff deals with SCAF’s clamp-down
Image 121 Image 2
Image 3 Image 4
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“Egypt . . . isn’t that in Switzerland?”Textual Borderlands
on demonstrators on August 1st, the first day of the Islamic month of
Ramadan (showing a SCAF member ironically wishing the woman carrying
a photograph of the martyr, Khaled Said, a happy Ramadan (كريم ;(رمضان
in another cartoon, Latuff depicts Ahmed Harara, a doctor-activist who
lost both his eyes in brutal confrontations with the police and Central
Security Forces in January and November, respectively.30 And in December
2011, Latuff dealt with retired General Kato’s hate-inciting statement that
demonstrators deserve to be burned in Hitler’s ovens.31
Clearly, Latuff’s cartoons have kept abreast of political developments in
Egypt on an almost daily basis. Moreover, the appeal of such cartoons is
enhanced by their adoption of Egyptian-specific humor and inclusion of such
cultural signifiers as have been mocked by Egyptians themselves – Fangari’s
threatening “finger,” Kato’s “ovens,” or Mubarak’s nose-picking during the
first hearing of his trials for killing protestors on August 3rd. Latuff’s cartoon
exposes Mubarak as a performer with cameras on a set, his lawyer prompting
him to act as victim with the words “الضحية دور العب . . . Well“) ”!!حسناً .. اآلن
now play the victim!!”) coming out of a hand-held microphone.32
Arabic as a Medium of Communication
Finally, one of the most significant reasons why Latuff’s cartoons gained
immediate resonance with Egyptians is their conscious inclusion of Arabic text.
Many of the examples I have analyzed above incorporate Arabic words such
as “شهيد” (martyr), “ديموقراطية” (democracy), and even Dina Abdel Rahman’s
name written in Arabic. But Arabic phrases and sometimes sentences can
also feature more prominently in Latuff’s work as the only commentary in
some of his images. Examples include a rendition in Arabic of a protestor
reprimanding a soldier with his reproachful plea: “Egyptian soldier, do not
attack your own people”33 (“وناسك أهلك متهاجمش مصري يا عسكري in which ,(”يا
the protestor and soldier share exactly the same facial features to further
exacerbate the paradox of the soldier’s offense (Image 7).34 Another cartoon
uses the slogan adopted by many demonstrators: “No to Military Trials for
Civilians” (“ًالمدنيين عسكريا In another cartoon, Latuff articulates .(”ال لمحاكمة
his own appeal to Egyptian citizens in Arabic as a result of collaboration with
Egyptian graphic designer and photographer Mohammed Gaber (another
sign of Latuff’s genuine interest in Egyptian culture, revolution, and artists):
الثورة“ 36 In this cartoon, the text is written.(”Be with the revolution“) ”كن مع
in Arabic calligraphy in the colors of the Egyptian flag; the cartoon’s top
right-hand corner shows a hand carrying the flag, and its bottom left-hand
corner shows Mubarak trampled under a demonstrator’s shoe (Image 8). The
text was at once adopted by many Egyptians as one of the insignia of the
revolution, printed on t-shirts and worn in different contexts as a resistance
symbol to the many SCAF-instigated attempts to bring down the revolution.
To my mind, this cartoon is a key reason that Latuff has earned such favorable
and appreciative appellations, many of which are now widely used among
Egyptians on social networks, including: “فنان الثورة المصرية” (“The artist of the
Egyptian Revolution”) and “ثورة 25 يناير Cartoonist of the January 25“) ”رسام
Revolution”).37
Conclusion
I have attempted to show two very different American models of cartoons
depicting popular accounts of the Egyptian revolution. The samples I
have showcased reflect two foci in presenting the same historical events,
Image 5 Image 6
Image 7 Image 8
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“Egypt . . . isn’t that in Switzerland?”Textual Borderlands
highlighting the element of choice in the artists’ representation. Clearly,
Latuff’s realistic depiction of the revolution, his direct engagement with
its events, and his constant attempts to address a primarily Egyptian/Arab
audience38 have no equivalent in the first model. The two models clearly
illustrate a difference of allegiance. The first model reflects an outsider’s view
of a culturally foreign, amusing, but unrealistic “other” to an audience who
tend to gaze or stare but not touch, as if they were in a museum; the second
opts for more engagement and is freed from border thinking, ending up as
a form of activism from within. Latuff expresses this form of activism best
in response to an interviewer’s question about his message to the Egyptian
people: “I wish to tell Egyptians that my art is at their service, in order to
promote their struggle and boost their morale. My art is their art.”39
Inasmuch as the two models analyzed above say something about the
(Egyptian) cultural “other” they depict, they say much more about America
itself. And it is hard to think of them in separation from such notions of
America as a non-monolithic, transnational community, a community
“troubled . . . with a more contested actuality than is usually ascribed to it,”
as Edward Said puts it.40 Commenting on this transnationalism, Rowe, in
turn, proposes a more inclusive academic intervention when he writes:
Paul Gilroy . . . fundamentally challenged “area studies”
definitions of Caribbean, African American, and black British
communities, directing us both literally and figuratively to
the “Atlantic world” in which transnational flows of people,
goods, and cultures moved incessantly and diversely . . . David
Lloyd and Peter D. O’Neill . . . [show] how the Green (Irish),
Red (Communist), and still other “Atlantics” have followed
and broadened what we today understand as this oceanic
complexity beyond the presumed stabilities of geopolitical
states. We need similarly flexible, transnational conceptions in
the new American Studies that will work cooperatively with
“critical area studies” of Latin America and the Middle East
to respect the diverse communities we find in these regions and
provide the critical terms for challenging their marginalization,
even exclusion, by more powerful nation states.41
In my view, it is our role as area studies researchers and cultural critics to
follow precisely the path delineated by Rowe above, if cultural dialogue is to
be attained and border thinking overcome. Amen!
Notes1. John Carlos Rowe, “American Orientalism after Said,” Edward Said Memorial Lecture
presented at the American University in Cairo, Egypt, November 1, 2011. In this paper, I cite the unpublished manuscript the author has kindly shared with me and for which I am most grateful. An abridged form of the lecture is also available online: John Carlos Rowe, “American Orientalism after Said,” Al-Ahram Weekly, 3–9 November 2011, <http://weekly.ahram.org.eg/2011/1071/cu1.htm>.
2. As delineated in Edward Said, Orientalism (NY: Vintage Books, 1987).
3. Rowe, “American Orientalism after Said,” 3–7.
4. Ibid., 8–14.
5. Clay Bennett, “Egypt,” Times Free Press, 1 February 2011, <http://www.timesfreepress.com/news/2011/feb/01/egypt/>.
6. Marshall Ramsey, “Mubarak,” Marshall Ramsey, 1 February 2011, <http://marshallramsey.com/2011/02/01/cartoon-mubarak/>.
7. Steve Breen, “The Camel’s Nose,” NewsBusters, 31 January 2011, <http://newsbusters.org/camels-nose.html>.
8. Bill Day, “Bill Day’s Cartoon for 2/1/2011,” Cagle Post, 1 February 2011, <http://www.cagle.com/2011/02/bill-days-cartoon-for-212011/>.
9. Henry Payne, [“Untitled”], Henry Payne, 1 February 2011, <http://www.henrypayne.com/index.php/2011/02/6476>.
10. Dana Summers, “Dana Summers Editorial Cartoons,” Go Comics, 1 February 2011, <http://www.gocomics.com/danasummers/2011/02/01>.
11. See, for instance, Walid El Hamamsy, “BB = BlackBerry or Big Brother: Digital Media and the Egyptian Revolution,” Journal of Postcolonial Writing 47 (4) (2011): 454–466.
12. Matt Davies, “Talk Like an Egyptian,” OUCH, 28 January 2011, <http://blog.ctnews.com/davies/2011/01/28/talk-like-an-egyptian/>.
13. The cartoon’s title itself alludes intertextually to the controversial pop song released by the UK all-girl band, The Bangles, in 1986, which was unofficially banned in Egyptian media for what was seen by some as its insensitive lyrics and attitude to Egyptians. The Bangles, “Walk Like an Egyptian,” YouTube, uploaded 4March 2008, <http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BWP-AsG5DRk>.
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14. Chris Britt, “Egypt’s Ancient Desire for Freedom,” Carthage Press, 31 January 2011, <http://www.carthagepress.com/opinions/cartoons/x115117723/Britt-cartoon-Egypts-ancient-desire-for-freedom?photo=0>.
15. It is worth remarking that the majority of samples analyzed above were published on 1 February 2011, as the dates cited here will reveal. It is significant to note that though demonstrations started on January 25 and steadily intensified in response to the regime’s use of violence as of January 28, it was only on February 1 that American cartoonists started paying any noticeable attention to the political situation in Egypt. In my view, the significance of that date lies in the fact that it coincided with President Barack Obama’s speech on the “Egypt Crisis,” marked by a clear shift in American Administration’s discourse and allegiance toward the people rather than the regime in Egypt. To my mind, these cartoons came as a response to Obama’s speech with its focus on “peaceful transition,” which gave the cartoonists the green light to “cover” the Egyptian revolution rather than as a response to the political situation itself. The speech’s anti-Mubarak tone also explains the various representations of Mubarak as a despot walking toward his end. See Barack Obama, “President Obama Egypt Crisis (1 February 2011),” YouTube, 1 February 2011, <http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1-nnAmdgkRE>.
16. The extent of the spread of such Orientalist approaches to the Egyptian revolution can be gleaned from any quick online search related to cartoon representations of this historical event. For a reservoir of such faulty and culturally insensitive representations, the interested reader can see, for instance, “31 More Egypt Revolution Cartoons,” The Social Poets, 3 February 2011, <http://thesocialpoets.blogspot.com/2011/02/31-more-egypt-revolution-cartoons.html>.
17. Rob Rogers, “Ancient Egypt,” AAEC: The Association of American Editorial Cartoonists, 2 February 2011, <http://editorialcartoonists.com/cartoon/display.cfm/95437/>.
18. Carlos Latuff, “We are all Khaled Said,” Egypt Independent, 24 January 2011, <http://www.egyptindependent.com/node/304694>.
19. Carlos Latuff, “Police Day – Khaled Said – Habib El Adly,” 25 January 22011, <http://amr-ezeldeen.blogspot.com/2011/01/police-day-demonstrations-25th-jan-2011.html>.
20. Carlos Latuff, “SCAF’s Low Blow to Hazem Abdel Azim,” Twitpic, 21 July 2011, <http://twitpic.com/5th7it>.
21. I am grateful to Carlos Latuff for providing high-resolution versions of his cartoons and for his kind permission to reprint them in this paper. Carlos Latuff, e-mail message to author, 21 August 2011.
22. Carlos Latuff, “Police Day – Mubarak,” 25 January 2011, <http://amr-ezeldeen.blogspot.com/2011/01/police-day-demonstrations-25th-jan-2011.html>.
23. Carlos Latuff, “Egyptian Activist Asmaa Mahfouz Charged by SCAF with Inciting Violence through Social Sites,” Twitpic, 14 August 2011, <http://twitpic.com/664oz7>.
24. Carlos Latuff, “On Behalf of Jan. 25 Revolution Martyrs,” Wikimedia Commons, 19 July 2011, <http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:On_behalf_of_Jan25_revolution_martyrs.gif>.
25. Carlos Latuff, “Egypt’s Vodafone Role in Cell Phone & Internet Blackout,” Wikimedia Commons, 5 August 2011, <http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Egypt’s_Vodafone_role_in_cell_phone_%26_Internet_blackout.gif>.
26. Carlos Latuff, “February 11 Victory – End of Mubarak Era 3,” Wikimedia Commons, 12 February 2011, <http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Feb11_VICTORY_End_of_Mubarak_Era_3.gif>.
27. Carlos Latuff, “Back to Tahrir July 8, 2011,” Wikimedia Commons, 7 July 2011, <http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Back_to_Tahrir_July8_2011.gif>.
28. Carlos Latuff, “General El Fangari Threatens Protesters in Egypt 4,” Wikimedia Commons, 15 July 2011, <http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:General_el_Fangari_threatens_protesters_in_Egypt_4.gif>.
29. Carlos Latuff, “Coward Assault Against Tahrir Protesters 3,” Wikimedia Commons, 2 August 2011, <http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Coward_assault_against_Tahrir_protesters_3.gif>.
30. Carlos Latuff, “SCAF Can Take Ahmed Harara’s Eyes but They’ll NEVER take his SPIRIT,” Twitpic, 29, November 2011, <http://twitpic.com/7hpmgf>.
31. Carlos Latuff, “Gen. Abdel [Moneim] Kato Suggests to Throw Protesters in Hitler’s Ovens,” Twitpic, 19 December 2011, <http://twitpic.com/7vhttc>.
32. Carlos Latuff, “Mubarak Is Now Playing the VICTIM!,” Wikimedia Commons, 3 August 2011, <http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Mubarak_is_now_playing_the_VICTIM!.gif>.
33. Carlos Latuff, “Egyptian Soldier, DO NOT Attack Your Own People!” Wikimedia Commons, 6 August 2011, <http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Egyptian_soldier,_DO_NOT_attack_your_own_people!.gif>.
34. It must be noted here that, in addition to the use of Arabic as a means of addressing his audience, Latuff’s choice of vernacular Egyptian Arabic further highlights his allegiance to his Egyptian audience in particular and his choice to side with the revolutionists by “talking” their language, so to speak.
35. Carlos Latuff, “No Military Trials for Civilians,” Never Say Never, 28 June 2011, <http://bendandneverbreak.blogspot.com/2011/06/no-military-trials-for-civilians-vol2.html>.
36. Mohamed Gaber and Carlos Latuff, “Support the Revolution in Egypt,” MR ZINE, 3 February 2011, <http://mrzine.monthlyreview.org/2011/gl030211.html>.
37. Carlos Latuff’s popularity among Egyptians is indeed unprecedented and can be glimpsed from such celebratory websites as the Facebook page entitled “Give the Egyptian Nationality to Carlos Latuff,” <http://www.facebook.com/pages/Give-the-Egyptian-nationality-to-Carlos-latuff/257522124264946>, a page that includes a biographical summary on Latuff, praise for his work and support of the revolution, and a reservoir of his cartoons documenting its various stages to date, which the interested reader may wish to consult.
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38. Latuff’s choice of Arabic as a medium of communication can be seen as a conscious decision when one puts it in its proper context: the artist’s linguistic and biographical background. Contrary to many people’s belief that Latuff’s interest in Egypt stems from his Arab origins – a belief instigated primarily by his Arab last name, – Latuff himself contradicts this fact, writing in an interview with Ahram Online: “My grandfather was Lebanese, but my interest in Middle East has nothing to do with that. I believe in solidarity with people, worldwide. Do not believe in everything you read on Wikipedia as my entry, for example, is always vandalized by Zionists.” He goes on to explain that his interest in Middle East politics started with a visit to Palestine (the West Bank) in 1999 and that he has in fact never visited Egypt, speaks no Arabic, and depends on friends and activists on Twitter for translation and information. That Latuff chooses to caption his cartoons in Arabic despite the linguistic barrier, his conscious efforts to keep au courant with events in Egypt and seek like-minded activists to help him do so, his adamant insistence on addressing an Egyptian/Arab audience even at the expense of estranging his most immediate and obvious Portuguese-speaking Brazilian audience, few of whom would readily understand Arabic, are all factors that highlight Latuff’s informed choice to support the Egyptian revolution and demonstrate his loyalty to its cause. For more on the artist’s background, see Ali Metwaly, “Carlos Latuff Gives a Voice to the Oppressed with His Art [Interview],” Ahram Online, 4 August 2011, <http://english.ahram.org.eg/NewsContent/5/25/18092/Arts--Culture/Visual-Art/Carlos-Latuff-gives-a-voice-to-the-oppressed-with-.aspx>.
39. Ali Metwaly, “Carlos Latuff Gives a Voice to the Oppressed with His Art.”
40. Edward Said, “The Other America,” Al-Ahram Weekly, 20–26 March 2003, <http://weekly.ahram.org.eg/2003/630/focus.htm>.
41. John Carlos Rowe, “Areas of Concern: Area Studies and the New American Studies,” Alif: Journal of Comparative Poetics 31: 29 (2011).
Alex LubinEditor
Nancy Batakji SanyouraAssociate Editor
Lisa Arnold, Emily Tess WolterstorffEditorial Assistants
Proceedings of the Fourth International Conference Sponsored by The Prince Alwaleed Bin Talal Bin Abdulaziz Alsaud Center for American Studies and Research at the American University of Beirut
Shifting Borders: America and the Middle East /North Africa
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