Disagreeing in Colorado October 6-7

Michael Lame and I got rave reviews for our presentation at Illinois College in Jacksonville. Karen Dean, head of the Habtoor Leadership Center, was especially inspired by our exhortations to the students to think as an active, time-intensive exercise.

On our way to the campus we stopped to see Abraham Lincoln's tomb in Springfield. I was deeply moved to be there. Why? We know Mr. Lincoln is not there. But the symbolism is. His life, courage, trials all there on the walls. I didn't know one of his sons died while he was in the White House. I didn't know his favorite literary references were the King James Bible and Shakespeare. He should become mine. Lincoln reminded me of the profound privilege it is to be an American. A privilege we must protect from intolerance and warmongers.

This Wednesday we're at Colorado State University in Fort Collins. Then on Thursday I address the Air Force Academy and Colorado College in Colorado Springs. Stop by if you're in the neighborhood!

Speaking at Illinois College: Khalaf Al Habtoor Lecture Series

On September 29 my colleague Michael Lame and I will be debating "Attaining Peace in the Middle East" at Illinois College in Jacksonville, IL.

Scroll down to see the announcement.

On October 6 we'll be at Colorado State University in Fort Collins.

On the 7th I'll address the US Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs.

Check out Wolfman Productions or contact me directly if you're interested in arranging an event.

Letter XXIX: It's Contentious

It's contentious. But somebody's got to raise it.

How appropriate that it's raised by contentious, curmudgeonly Helen Thomas.

What are we going to do about different populations competing for the same real estate?

Years and years ago my father, the late Dr. Mohammad T. Mehdi, made an offer – a gimmick of course – to pay to relocate Jews from occupied Palestine to the United States. This would give people traumatized by the Holocaust a safe place to live and would allow exiled, traumatized Palestinians to return home. The point is important to make and to reiterate -- even if nowadays it is entirely impractical. The people of Palestine are not responsible for the horrors of the Holocaust and should not be made to pay for those sins. Helen Thomas knows that.

On May 27, 2010, she resurrected the specter of the terrible wrong done to the innocent people of Palestine in 1948. Maybe she was planning to retire, once and for all, and she knew after so many years in the media, that going out to sugary accolades would not be remembered so much as going out to fiery condemnation. Maybe it was a moment of freed speech after posing all those years of contained, prepared questions.

Helen Thomas has earned the right to share her views. In her 2002 memoir Thanks For The Memories, Mr. President, she writes, “After all those years of telling it like it is, now I can tell it how I want it to be.” Many people far younger and with far less experience than Ms. Thomas promote their views with impunity across the airwaves, on the Internet, and in newspaper columns. If we as a nation agreed with her view we would not be offended. Only when we disagree do we demand penance. For example, less than 100 years ago, how contentious was it to recognize women’s right to vote in this country?

In his 1988 book Terrorism: Why America is the Target Mohammad T. Mehdi wrote, “Terrorism is a violent act against civilians for a political goal of which we disapprove.” If we approve of the political goal, then the violence would be considered necessary. Consider American reaction to the Israeli assault on the Mavi Marmara.

Stephen Colbert suggests as much in his June 9 Colbert Report. In an interview with Michael Oren, Israel's ambassador to the United States, Colbert says, "I just want to say that I repudiate what Helen said. She's a friend but I repudiate everything she said. Go back to Poland, go back to Germany -- that's ridiculous. Israel is for Israelis. If anything the Palestinians should go back to where they came from."

The audience loved it.

Oren did not agree, "alas."

Helen Thomas did not say anything anti-Semitic. She spoke anti-occupation. She spoke pro-justice. And she spoke shorthand – a reporter’s specialty.

Unfortunately, in 21^st century America, “anti-Zionist” still plays as “anti-Jewish.” Disengaging these two distinct terms will go a long way in supporting good reporting and possibly even a just solution to this wrenching dilemma.

Thank goodness for contentious Colbert -- who can get away with it. While Helen Thomas goes out ablaze.

Remembering Debussy on Israel's Anniversary

May 15, 2010

In the month of May many people celebrate Israeli Independence and grieve al Nakba; they lament ongoing violence and fear the next strike. In this sense, times have not changed much since the sad spring of 1974 when the 26^th anniversary of the founding of the State of Israel was bloodied by attacks on the towns of Kiryat Shmona and Maalot in the north. Forty Israelis, including many teenagers, were killed by Palestinians; 27 villagers and refugees were killed and 130 wounded in south Lebanon in retaliation.

I was 17 at the time and had finally been made principal flute in the New York City All City High School Orchestra. As daughter of the city’s best-known Arab, Dr. Mohammad T. Mehdi, champion of Palestinians and challenger to American policy in the region, I struggled through a lot of prejudice to prove my talent. A “blind audition” secured me the chance to solo in Claude Debussy’s “L'après-midi d'un faune.” Every flute player longs for that opportunity. My chance was the night of May 16, 1974.

The attacks happened the day before the concert. Israeli teenagers, like us, were taken hostage by the Democratic Front for the Liberation of Palestine. They were killed as Israeli troops came to rescue them.

My teachers, fellow musicians and the conductor already knew my father’s politics. Everyone recognized his voice from myriad television and radio news programs. Back in the day when “Arab” was the prefix for “terrorist,” Reporters knew that Dr. Mehdi would provide context to acts of violence. He reminded audiences that Palestinians, an exiled people, still longed for their homeland and that some would resort to fighting to get it back. He did not condone their violent methods: hostage taking and airline hijackings. But, he urged the American people that once the Palestinian demand for a homeland was righted the Israelis will be able to live in peace.

Today most people acknowledge that until there is resolution for the Palestinians, the conflict will continue. My father’s message in the 1960s and 1970s was way ahead of its time. Decades ago he was called anti-Semitic and extreme but by the time he died so suddenly in my arms on a cold February day in 1998, he was heralded by many as a moderate that also appreciated the quandary faced by Israeli Jews.

“The Afternoon of a Faun” was programmed just after intermission. Nearly 100 high school musicians sat behind the drawn curtain at Avery Fisher Hall and listened as a representative of the Board of Education came on stage.

“Everyone knows about the tragedy that happened yesterday in Israel. I ask all of you to please stand for a moment of silence, out of respect for the 21 children who lost their lives at the hands of Arab terrorists.”

The room rumbled into a thousand people starting to stand as a shout rang out, filling the hall.

“Golda did it!”

My father meant that he believed the children wouldn’t have died if Israeli Prime Minister Golda Meir had not ordered troops onto the scene opening fire. He meant she should have pursued negotiations with the hostage—takers. His spontaneous statement didn’t encompass all the nuances he meant. I, for one, didn’t know exactly what he’d said; I only knew it was his voice and so did everyone on the stage around me.

Instantly my heart boomed so loudly I thought it would echo in the timpani. I grabbed for air, scratched for breath. I took my flute and made my way off the stage, desperate for composure. Gabriel Kosakoff, our conductor and a man who abhorred my father’s politics, came to my side.

“Are you OK?”

“Give me a minute.”

Out front people were confused. My choir director was crimson. Mom was stoic and my sisters were mortified.

The audience settled down. I returned to my chair. Maestro resumed his podium and looked at me: when you’re ready.

I mustered everything I had. I played for my friends who believed in me, for my brave family, for the father I adored and hated right then, for everyone who wanted me to fail, and for those poor, innocent kids who were killed and the people killed in retribution.

Thirty-six years later, as Israel celebrates is 62nd birthday, and Palestinians mark the “Nakba” or catastrophe, 1948 continues to count its victims in lives and livelihoods every day. Until we see a just solution, unless voices like my fathers’ and my own unite together with Jewish voices demanding peace, more Ma’alots and Gazas are in store. I play my flute and take up my pen, hoping the call of the faun may one day trump its hunters.

This article also appears on the Common Ground News Service and the Arab Writers Syndicate.