The ethnonational state, particularly when organised around ancestry, historical trauma and permanent insecurity, doesn’t cure collective vulnerability. It tends to institutionalise it, giving fear, grievance and supremacy a bureaucracy and an army. Germany and Israel are not ‘failed states’ in the conventional…
English
As Europe picks up the gauntlet in Ukraine after American disengagement, history offers a cautionary tale: from France handing Vietnam to the US, to the US leaving Europe to its proxy war against Russia, a cynical ploy comes full circle. Post-World War…
When faced with decline, movements must choose between adaptation and dogma. A century ago, Muslim intellectuals wrestled with how to reconcile faith with modernity. Today, the Western left faces a similar reckoning: as artificial intelligence reshapes labour and power, will progressives seize…
Israel-Palestine at a crossroads. Again. In early March, six months into the Gazan genocide, I described a hypothetical end of the state of Israel. More politically correct: I optimistically prophesied a sudden switch from a system where half of the people living…
As the title snags your attention, allow me to clarify: this is no call for genocide or displacement of any group or individual, voluntary or otherwise, but an exploration of a governance model, which determines the lives of 14 million people, give…
I look on, once more, in horror. I look away in disgust. Another round of violence, another stain on our collective humanity. A few things bear repeating – though I grow weary of doing so. And why should I, in Belgium, or…
The world is a brutal place. There is a time and a place and a manner in which to fight for human dignity. That place is not Afghanistan. That manner can never be a military occupation against the wishes of a population.
Two US presidents ago, I arrived in Palestine as a rookie ‘aid worker’. Facebook was barely a thing, the Arab Spring a mere season, and the peace process of yet no grounds for cynicism or incredulity. I for one was still a…
The world’s advanced economies, and by extension its polities, seem to have hit a glass ceiling. More or less since the oil crisis of the early 1970s, economic growth; including real wage growth and other social metrics, has been anemic. Austerity sank…
In the mid-90s a certain Robert Muller wrote: The Birth of a Global Civilization. Like my youthful self, this former Assistant-Secretary-General of the UN, was a strong advocate of a world government. When globalism was still an ideal, not a swear word.
With Trump’s inauguration a mere week away, environmentalists are bracing for the worst. After eight years of Obama, with his emphasis on renewable sources, a lot has changed. Despite being surrounded by fossil fuel tycoons and climate change deniers, his successor will…
Next week, the G7 summit in quaint Schloss Elmau, Germany, will tackle the climate crisis, among many other looming disasters. I mean, opportunities. For the eternal optimist, the glass is always half full. Especially when one is, as the saying goes, in…
March 30, 2011 (MO *) – These days, Judaism and Christianity are often presented as kindred souls who stand for democracy and human rights, while Islam is cut from a wholly different cloth. This essay by Tom Kenis argues that the books…
Brussels pouts “The occupation must end.” “Anti-Semite!” Five words; a mere two phrases suffice to sum up the dialog-gerheads between a growing chorus of American citizens, European citizens, trade unions, academia, an ever-shifting panoply of online forums, and Israel. Brussels, as the…
Croc got me locked tight in the jaw. His jaw unfortunately. Not mine. And to those rather faintly acquainted with um, stuff, I'm not talking about a ham and cheese grilled sandwich either. The matter at hand –for that is where I’m…
The rains, or vertical rivers as I've taken to calling them, have paused a few times today. Like a child during breastfeeding. Suddenly this hammer of silence whacks you on the skull, and you almost wish the rain wouldn't stop as only…
Evening's come. Like a cat burglar. Like a crow, from out of nowhere squawking, but prettier. A maroon Technicolor bird. Long rainbow robes derived from millions of years of competitive mating. Clock-radio speakers on the bar fridge spring a metal plunky vibe,…
Tom’s Tech Corner : Moving into 2009 The future of Blu-Ray. You might, but probably haven’t, noticed that a consortium led by Sony won the next-generation DVD war. What does this mean for you? In a word, nothing. The DVD was a…
It was the year of the death of the year 2008. Every single month reeked a valedictory. An American president finally weared of himself, dusting off his coattails for the long walk, and one last smirky wave at the press corps. An…
Part 1 I remember the last time I saw the sun. Or rather, I remember how it was. Before all this. My face tinged a slight crimson of indulgence. An afternoon's sandpapered skin, and sand in pants and nooks and hiding among…
Although zombies, or the myth of dead people returning in various manifestations to inform, puzzle, haunt, or eat the living, are present in all cultures, as far back as a mention in the epic of Gilgamesh of ancient Sumer, the word “zombie”…
I’m not a pessimist. Nor could I, even arguably, be labeled an optimist…. let alone a realist. I believe there are as many futures as there are people, and that every breathing second opens new avenues, both toward, and away from conflict.
Last year in Palestine. Sort of. It’s 2007. I have all but packed. Well, sort of. It’s a tough place to be at, sometimes. Even harder to leave. Although the food’s delicious, for many, it’s becoming increasingly difficult by the day to…
2006 began quite like 2005. And by ‘quite like’ I mean ‘not even remotely comparable’. There were parallels, mind you. Both January’s I served as election observer, presidential and parliamentary respectively. Which entailed a lot of barreling up and down the West…
On arrival I’m set up in the veranda, which is cherished office real estate. Especially in winter. Pamper the newbie, I guess. Back in the days the Bisan headquarters sits in Balu’a, a low-lying suburb of Ramallah of previously marshes, aquatic birds…
My landlord Mitri’s a geography teacher. Man, did he ever teach geography that day. It’s January. Orthodox Christmas. Palestinian Christians from the West Bank are allowed each year to enter Israel. Some good old divide et impera. A permit for worshipping in…
The Israeli-Palestinian conflict according to Scientology. It’s funny how Skully and Mulder never dedicated any time to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. Plenty of scope for conspiracy and yet… nothing. Which represents of course, in and by itself, a conspiracy. Time to investigate. Coffee…
Time to get away. Escapism. We’re riding up North for three days. Beach, mountains, old stones, and a blissful absence of checkpoints. A day earlier I go to Jerusalem, get us a yellow-plate car. No use for the green-and-white. Makes me chuckle…
The IDF admits to using “agents provocateurs” at the weekly anti-wall demonstrations in Bil’in. “But they only start throwing rocks after the regular demonstrators do so.” Which begs the question; what’s the point of using infiltrators then? Once more, logic is that…
After a first concert, and the Ramallah workshops our destination is Yata, a small village south of Hebron. Mahmoud, who works for an organization that helps disadvantaged children flags our van, greets us with an energetic smile that could power Las Vegas.
“Things are a lot more uh, uh…complex… I got certain information. Certain things have come to light…. Uh.. It might not be just such a simple… uh… you know?” Ask a Middle East expert to explain, clear and succinct, what in God’s…
A cloud of uncertainty looms over the region… wait… no… Please don’t panic! It is an actual cloud. Coming from the kitchen upstairs. Lasagnas behaving badly. I’m ensconced at Zan Café, the Kasabah Cinema and Theater’s annexed lounge/restaurant/bar general-purpose watering hole, soaking…
“Crybabies.” Fie on anyone who calls them that. The inhabitants of Sderot I mean. “Killed by a rocket?” a friend of mine asked. “You mean this crude welding together of lawnmower spare parts? You’re more likely to get stabbed in Tel Aviv…
It’s almost noon. Outside the house nothing stirs save the occasional street cat. Dubya is in town. That’s one quiet president, lemme tell you, like he’s taken off his shoes and tiptoed past the Qalandia checkpoint to share sweet tea and whispered…
Murphy is wide awake. As am I. Although perhaps not as wide as the proverbial fat lady, given that she didn’t sing until about six this morning when I conveyed the Rumplestitchkins to their respective abodes. Rock n Roll, you know how…
“My uncle used to drink a lot. We’re talking way back, when a bottle of arak set you back a mere Shekel.” Ramzi’s eyes tell the story with vigor. His hands add to the narrative with exaggerated swigging motions. “He sure liked…
So it’s Christmas soon. The joy. Jingle bells. I’m not at all sure what to make of it anymore. Then again, it’s a religious holiday, not a lump of clay, so I’m pretty much off the hook on that account. Before on…
A logistical nightmare. Forget about sleeping. Murphy flaunts his Law, bares his fangs, incredulous almost. “Wait. Let me get this straight. You’ve invited a Belgian rock band to play, ánd host children’s music workshops? In Ramallah? The hills of Hebron? On the…
I’m out on the town. Any given Thursday. A couple of beers, a few laughs. Drunken ramblings. The later it gets, the less coherent becomes whatever leaves my mouth. “A guy at work bought a car out of the paper. Ten years…
I never cared much for musicals. I remember watching Mary Poppins as a child, impatient and wound up at these lengthy, unnatural irruptions of song and dance. The keen observer in me noticed a certain discrepancy with such unexplained sung jollity, and…
Not one, not two, but three missing links exist in the contentious realm of paleoanthropology. From 10 to 8 million years ago there lived in Africa a common ancestor to the four species of Great Apes, to wit; gorillas, chimpanzees, bonobos, and…
I happily wore sandals today. Not exactly the stuff of red carpets, but they do afford a sense of liberty and ease that helps the imagination cling on to summer. In Belgium you don’t wear sandals in November. One of the perks…
Everybody loves a conspiracy. Even those who profess to hate them. They, of course, are part of the conspiracy. Obviously. Who shot JFK? I for one have a perfect alibi; I wasn’t born yet. That, of course, will hardly convince the avid…
Immediately after alighting from the plane at the brand new airport of Jericho, my wife and I head into the city, and hide for a while behind a promontory of chicken musakhan. The four-hour flight from Newark has rendered my belly a…
I’m a cynical bastard. It’s a self-defense mechanism I guess, a callus on the soul that treads a little softer on the daily carnage spewed out by the newsreel. I’ve long ago given up my belief in any kind of interventionist deity.
My email gives a soft “pling”. Suzan delivers the latest office updates. It’s that time again. During the holy month of Ramadan working hours will be from eight to four instead of nine to five. The rich meals at sundown to break…
Dome of the Rock. Someone who’s unfamiliar with the Middle East could be forgiven to assume it the name of a rock band. But then again, someone very familiar with the Middle East, and Ramallah specifically, will know that it is in…
Time travel runs counter to the laws of physics, however much renegade scientists or plain madmen will time and again claim to the contrary. Of course Einstein knew this too and, were he alive today, his surprise to find an Oktoberfest in…
What is the one thing toothpaste, deodorant, and musical conservatories have in common? They were invented in the 9th century by the man who added a fifth string to the Arab “oud”, thus creating the European lute and forerunner of the guitar.
Parents will be parents. Families worry as much as the cardiovascular system allows. Don’t ever let reality get in the way of fear. Blood pressure. Cholesterol. In many ways parenting is probably the most dangerous profession available to humans. “It’s not like…
What’s so Belgian about Belgium? What constitutes a nation? Julius Caesar once famously said, “Of all the Gauls, Belgians are the bravest.” Luckily he wasn’t there to see me run that day, in ignominious defeat, from a flock of geese. I am…
I am horrible at time-keeping. It is eight o’clock, and I’m standing at the bar. Muhammad, the bartender, greets me with a smile. “Kif halak?” “I’m fine,” I say, scanning the room. Ol’ Blue Eyes stares down at me from the wall,…
Are the Spice Girls in town? No, not really. Lebanese pop-singer Nancy Ajram then? Or perhaps eighties one-hit-wonder Charles & Eddie? If no one else can help you, and if you can find them,… maybe Palestinians hired the A-Team? Quite unlikely. And…
Just a regular town I got the job. The phone interview with a crackly voice, one time-zone away, had gone well. Belgian development money would pay for me to go and support a small organization that’s active in the field of women’s…
“Hey, hey, if it isn’t Bunny Bunzenburner, venture capitalist extraordinaire slash celebrity music producer. Care for a carrot?” No, this isn’t a rendering of some nightmare, although my restless dream that night had an eerie resemblance to what happened that day. This…
I was in Rome shortly. Rome was nice. Everybody knows Rome, so please accept my apologies for not dwelling on its historic importance or assorted tourist paraphernalia. Suffice it to say that –in the parlance of our day- a lot of shit…
10-07-05 Ik bevind me met een hele boel mensen in een grote bus die met grote snelheid over een oneffen weg raast. Rajesh en Saidja zijn aanwezig. Rajesh ligt languit op een rolstoel. Zijn linkerbeen zit vastgepind in een metalen stanketsel. Zijn…
Svalbard is far away now. I can’t even begin to picture what set me to flee my home there; the warm and protective lair that I always liked so much to return to after a tiring business trip, clinching gas deals in…
“Hey Bunzenburner,” she said. “Ben!” She then turned to whispering in my ear: “Bunny, wake up.” My head hurt so much, I thought someone was attempting to assemble an Ikea cupboard inside my skull. My faculties were so impaired with pain that…
“Eeey ragazzo!” Luigi said. Traveling is a funny thing. A whole range of things that you take for granted suddenly assume new and unexpected propensities; like the taste of cold carrot pie in the morning –you can somehow not compare this event…
Something dawned on me the other day; I’m en route to meet Cassandra in Italy, and now that I find myself here, infused with a sense of how big –and to bunny standards quite vast- a place it actually is, a natural…
I crossed the border into Italy this morning. It’s somehow been very difficult of late to hitchhike anywhere, so by default I hop. I like to hop. Hopping, I’ll have you know, is a very efficient mode of travel. You don’t have…
So it is off to Italy then. If anything I am a curious bunny and the lure of the unknown tantalizes me at times about as much as steaming carrot pie on a window sill. I received an email yesterday from P…
I am in Switzerland. Don’t ask me how I got there. But more importantly; Svenbärd dropped in this morning. “Mr. Bunzenburner,” he said, as he’s always polite and formal after a long hiatus between our meetings. “How are you doing this fine…
Angelika was born in Magdeburg on May 15, 1973, roughly 4 centuries after Charlemagne’s crowning. Her parents are Rudigard Oberwesen and Rita Süsemädel, a policeman and housewife respectively. Angelika had always been a grade A student as they say; of exemplary conduct…
Walter’s infatuation with Angelika became apparent when instead of himself, she became the star of his homemade (no pun intended) movies. He would get restless when the time of her visits approached -always within office hours-, polishing his teeth with the index…
Aachen is where Charlemagne was crowned Emperor in 800 AD. This is roughly more than 357 years ago. The city breathes history and on every street corner and every little cobbled square the legacy of old Europe looks down on you from…
I’m still in Aachen, Germany. I’ve no money to speak of, so buying carrots is out. Let alone a southbound train ticket. I spent the last couple of nights on a patch of cardboard, generously provided by Walter, a 54 year-old hobo…
Three days ago I received an email from the president of the United States of America; Dear Mr. Bunny Bunzenburner, First of all Laura and I would like to wish you a happy New Year, and all the best for 2007! A…
Tomorrow is the New Year. Or rather, tomorrow is the last day of the old one. And although this might traditionally be a time to look back, I will do none of the sort. My gaze is firmly set to the future.
I hopped for six days straight, crossing the Netherlands diagonally and all the while singing “The Jesus Christ Pose.” Yesterday then finally, I crossed the border into Belgium, and it appears that this is where I shall spend Christmas this year; in…
I arrived in Holland this morning, hopping, off the beaten track as it were, munching on the rare carrot here, gormandizing a twig there. The forests (nothing but planted Scots pine and oak) are rather desolate this time of year, I must…
It’s been exactly one month since I left Svalbard. My situation, it must be said, leaves much to be desired. I’m currently somewhere in the middle of Denmark; I have escaped boredom, abduction and death itself. Luckily my loyal friend Svenbärd has…
Dear Bunny, Where to begin? If you are reading this, most of my distress will be alleviated, for it means that you are alive and well, or at least well enough to read; despite what I have done. I will start from…
I believe I must have passed out from all the frantic jumping. This, I am certain, allowed the collective mind of the bunny farm to invade the core of my being even quicker. After a while I came to, fully assimilated and…
The white rabbits came closer still. Any closer, I feared, and we would have imploded by the sheer congregated mass of colorless fluff. When the wet snout of the front-most bunny touched mine, they stopped. “We are all prisoners here.” A voice…
“So you believe the Devil is responsible for all this?” Cassandra asked, a little incredulous to my taste. “Well, yes.” She sat pensive for a while, her long black tail followed a curly path around her feet to lay its tip beside…
Cassandra and I set about our journey in good spirits. All through the night we paced in gentle, yet certain stride and while I hopped as quietly as I could, trying hard not to disturb the snappy dried twigs on the ground,…
It is a glorious day for freedom. This morning at 4.34 I unshackled myself from that pink Bastille and ran into the wilderness. It must have been the drowsiness of sleep that had temporarily unchained the iron manacles of Carrot Madness. This,…
I must escape. But perhaps I will await one more serving of sweet carrots before eloping. Last night Nina drove me around triumphantly on top of a pink Rolls Royce. In my fancy I remember these motorcars as being slightly bigger, but…
It appears that I have arrived in Århus, in the old European nation of Denmark. As I emerged from my den this morning, the salty froth of distant waves tickled my nostrils; this is a sensation I much relish. I do swim…
Boy, it’s been a grueling two days. At Hammerfest Regional Airport I was exposed by a rough-round-the-edges truck driver by the name of Haakon. It’s not that he picked me up by the ears or anything like that –God forbid. He even…
Instead of arriving in Reykjavík, I find myself somewhat marooned in a cargo hanger of Hammerfest regional airport, Norway. Since my arrival about two hours ago, I’ve been nibbling on little Styrofoam pellets for sustenance, and I’ve written a letter to Svenbärd,…
I hitched a ride this morning aboard the rickety boat that the scientists from the observatory use to commute to Longyearbyen. Right now I’m hiding in the back of a small plane, which I assume is flying me to Reykjavík. I ended…
There was a lot of activity at the weather observatory this morning. Three figures (I could make out gender nor feature in the formless white overalls that bulged around their respective personae) stacked a great many boxes onto a snow truck and…
Svenbärd Gulliksen came to visit today. For a cup of coffee as it were. He knows that what he gets is no Quartermaine or Willoughby's. It's not even such vulgar pitch as available in your local supermarket. Ha! You see, I might…
Winter is here now, but I am snug and comfy in my lair. Vaguely I can hear the wind howl outside, and all animals scurry and bustle to shelter from the inclement gales. I'm watching Six Feet Under. Amazon is great, sending…
There was a loud thumping noise outside my lair this morning. Fear struck me like a cow falling from a Russian cargo plane. Believe me, I..ve seen it happen. At first I tried to find innocuous explanations and for this I rummaged…
After long and arduous locomotion I have finally returned to my sub-terranean, yet far from humble abode. Winter is fast approaching now, so I have mostly kept myself to confined comforts such as watching assorted moving images on my Bang&Olufsen home theatre.
Currently I sit prone in the business lounge of Reykjavik airport waiting for my lay-over. No doubt once again some barely motorized airborne contrivance, big enough to hold five people and a rabbit, will serve as my conveyance to Svalbard. I really…
I do not know its name. I cannot fathom what a dog's name could be. My bunny brain simply cannot compute such an aberration of nature. It first appeared a couple of days ago. Whence it came, I cannot tell. It simply…
I jumped really high. I think it was further than yesterday. In other news, I nibbled on a carrot. Again. It’s hard to resist. Really. Especially if you’re a rabbit. I’ll tell you all about that some time.