Updating Qateri Hospitality
In a dry and thirsty land, where there is no water, there is a wonderful tradition of providing water for the laborer, and the passer-by. In Tunisia and Jordan, we used to see running water in nearly every village, a place where donkeys could drink and people could fill their containers. Then, in Qatar and Kuwait, we began to see the outdoor kiosk type of water dispenser, running sweet water from a tap. Now, Qatar is providing bottled water in locations where there are workers who don’t have ready access to water during the hot hot hot summer.
Drinking water for the toiling masses
Web posted at: 7/16/2009 2:0:11
Source ::: THE PENINSULA
DOHA: The Qatar Charity has launched a unique humanitarian campaign to support people working outdoors during hot summer.
The Charity has started distributing bottled water to workers who don’t have easy access to drinking water while working outdoors. The one-month campaign titled “Suqya” (an meaning supply of drinking water) also aims at installing public water coolers in select places across the city.
Jassim Abdulla Jassim, director of the Charity said the campaign was first launched in summer last year. It has now been re-launched with a new name and new mission.
“Our goal is to provide relief to the hundreds of people working outside during summer as well as the pedestrians. We started the project last year and plans to continue it in the coming years,” said Jassim.
Bottled water is being distributed in construction sites, parks and other public places. Some 67 water coolers have been installed in various parts of the city as part of the campaign.
“These coolers come with a unique design and have been installed in crowded areas, so that more people can benefit from them. Through this project, we are trying to revive the traditional Qatari hospitality. Every Qatari household used to offer drinking water to the passer by free of charge,” said Ahmed Al Miraisi, deputy director of the Charity.
He urged companies and individuals to extend their support to the project.
Sad News: Indian tiger park ‘has no tigers’
By Faisal Mohammad Ali
BBC News, Bhopal
(You can read the entire story by clicking on the blue type.)
One of India’s main tiger parks – Panna National Park – has admitted it no longer has any tigers.
The park, in the central state of Madhya Pradesh, was part of the country’s efforts to save the famous Royal Bengal Tiger from extinction.
State Minister of Forests Rajendra Shukla said that the reserve, which three years ago had 24 tigers, no longer had any.
A special census was conducted in the park by a premier wildlife institute, after the forest authorities reported no sightings of the animals for a long time.
This is the second tiger reserve in India, after Sariska in Rajasthan, where numbers have dwindled to zero.
Warning bells
Officials from the wildlife department say there is no “explicable” reason for the falling number of tigers.
But a report prepared by the central forest ministry says Panna cannot be compared with Sariska because “warning bells were sounded regularly for the last eight years”.
The report says wildlife authorities failed to see the impending disaster despite repeated warnings, and lost most of Panna’s big cats to poaching.
While this controversy rages, there have been reports that another national park in Madhya Pradesh, Sanjay National Park, which was included in the tiger project three years ago, also has no tigers left.
The park had a population of 15 tigers until the late 1990s.
Of the more than 1,400 tigers in the country, 300 dwell in the state of Madhya Pradesh, which is also called the “tiger state of India”.
Sandstorm Due in 72 Hours
I’m not surprised – my niece, Little Diamond, is coming for a visit. Her arrival seems to invite sandstorms! We are just praying for her safe arrival BEFORE the sandstorm hits. For my friends in Iraq – this must seem endless. For my friends in Kuwait – I hope you get to dodge the bullet this time!
Sandstorm in 72 hours: Met
Web posted at: 7/14/2009 2:57:38
Source ::: The Peninsula
DOHA: A sandstorm is likely to hit Qatar in the next 72 hours, the meteorological office at the Civil Aviation Authority has announced.
During the sandstorm, the expected visibility will be around 2 to 5km and one kilometre or less in certain areas. Sea waves are expected to rise upto between 5 and 8 feet and even upto 10 feet in some areas.
The expected sandstorm will be blowing in from Iraq, and will reach the northern, eastern and central parts of the Arabian Peninsula, up to Iran.
The Saudi Meteorology and Environment Department, meanwhile, said the sandstorm would bring winds of medium to high velocity carrying with them around 2 billion tonnes of dust.
The below-average rainfall and inadequate water in the Euphrates and Tigris rivers in Iraq have contributed to the raging sandstorm.
The storm is so strong that it has stranded Admiral Mike Mullen, the US military’s senior commander, in the restive city of Kirkuk, north of Baghdad, according to reports.
The weather department has advised people to exercise caution during the sandstorm, especially during the night and while driving.
The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society
I don’t know why I didn’t read this book sooner! First, I saw people like me reading it in airports, and it certainly has a memorable title. The people reading looked totally engrossed. I’m not one to strike up conversations in airports, but on occasion, when I see people reading a book I don’t know about and it is the size of the books that book groups usually read, I will ask, and write it down, and bother the person no further.
I had ordered it on amazon.com when my son’s wife’s father’s wife (and you thought Gulf relationships were complicated!) mentioned to me in an e-mail that she was reading it and that she could barely tear herself away. She and I often pass really good books and/or recommendations back and forth, so that bumped it up a few notches in priority. When it got here, I had just finished Rutherfurd’s London (oops, I thought I had reviewed it, and I haven’t, so I will,) and I thought it was a southern book, like The Ya-Ya Sisterhood or Sweet Potato Queens, no, you are right, I hadn’t read anything about it, just trusted from all the people I saw reading it that it was good, but because of the name, I thought it would be light.
Wrong!
It isn’t depressingly heavy, like The Little Prisoner was heavy, and it had some totally wonderful laugh-out-loud moments, but the subject matter was the German occupation of the island of Guernsey, in the English Channel, and an author in search of a book topic in post-war London, and a little girl born outside of marriage and cared for by a village of caring people. It is spiced up by a dashing romance, and the process of relationship building that happens in the novel, unlikely relationships, aren’t those the very best kind for spice? 😉
The entire story is told in letters. The primary voice, that of Juliet, a thirty-something author, ties all the letters together, but not all letters are to her or from her. It is a great technique for allowing many different voices and many different perspectives. From the first page, you are captivated. Right now, Guernsey is more real to me than the boxes I need to unpack, and there is a part of me that yearns to flee to Guernsey and find a house near a cliff where I can watch the sun set in the west and the clouds turn colors . . .
Here is one sample of the kind of letters you will find when you read The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society. Don’t wait! This is an unforgettable book!
1st May 1946
Dear Mark,
I didn’t refuse, you know. I said I wanted to think about it. You were so busy ranting about Sidney and Guernsey that perhaps you didn’t notice – I only said I wanted time. I’ve known you two months. It’s not long enough for me to be certain that we should spend the rest of our lives together, even if you are. I once made a terrible mistake and almost married a man I hardly knew (perhaps you read about it in the papers) – and at least in that case, the war was an extenuating circumstance. I won’t be such a fool again.
Think of it: I’ve never seen you home – I don’t even know where it is, really. New York, but which street? What does it look like? What color are your walls? Your sofa? Do you arrange books alphabetically? (I hope not.) Are your drawers tidy or messy? Do you ever hum, and if so, what? Do you prefer cats or dogs? Or fish? What on earth do you eat for breakfast – or do you have a cook?
You see? I don’t know you well enough to marry you.
I have one other piece of news that may interest you: Sidney is not your rival. I am not now nor have I ever been in love with Sidney, nor he with me. Nor will I ever marry him. Is that decisive enough for you?
Are you absolutely certain you wouldn’t rather be married to someone more tractable than I?
Juliet
Written by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows, the book will challenge your ideas, will inform you of an obscure episode in World War II, will make your heart sorrow at the inhumanity of which we human beings are capable towards one another, and make your heart sing at the goodness in the human soul. That’s pretty amazing for one book.
Family Food Center, Doha, Qatar
Today I went back to one of my favorite old shopping places, the Family Food Center. I have to go early in the morning, as there is hardly anywhere to park. I only needed three things, but I always find cool things there that I forgot I needed.
It was really a quick trip, a reconnaissance, mostly to see what was there, but also because I want to make something special for AdventureMan and I haven’t found the key ingredient anywhere else. Almost all the stores have corn flour, but only Family Food Center has Corn Meal, which is the critical ingredient for corn bread, true comfort food if you are from the Southern part of the United States.
Not only did they have corn meal – but they have Bob’s Red Mill Corn Grits / Polenta, which I was bringing back by the suitcase full from Seattle – at not much less than the price they are charging here! 15QR comes to $4.13 and it seems to me I was paying between $2.99 and $3.59 in Seattle. Crank in the shipping factor, and the space factor, and the “paying for extra baggage” factor, and the mess factor – I am willing to pay 15QR to have it conveniently HERE when I need it to make cornbread for my husband, who will think I am amazing! Wooo HOOOO!
They are also the only store in town where I found my sweet friend that I can hardly do without to get my day started:
Vanilla Caramel, I think I’ve died and gone to heaven! 🙂
Because most days I have lunch by myself, AdventureMan eats at work, I found another old friend that I can’t eat when he is around because he can’t bear the smell. He has Southern roots, I have a lot of Swedish in my background, and oh how I love pickled herring.
I make a salad with it, and use the juice it comes in for salad dressing. It soothes the Swedish part of my heart. No, you don’t have to like it, you just have to tolerate that there are people in the world who like to eat pickled herring. You might be like AdventureMan, he finds it very difficult to believe:
The sweetest part of the trip was just icing on the cake. I found everything I needed, the store was uncrowded when I got there, and as it started filling up, I was able to walk right up to the checkout and leave. I didn’t really need help with the bags, I only had three or four, but the bagger-guy was already out the door, so oh well, I guess God just wants me to be generous today. As he was putting the groceries in the car, he said “Madame, we have not seen you for a long time!”
I was shocked. It’s been three years since I was there. I said “I’ve been living in Kuwait, but now I am living again in Doha,” and he said “Welcome back, Madame, we have missed you!”
The Appeal by John Grisham
One of the things I like about John Grisham is that he really likes the underdog. In his books, the person often the least likely to prevail does so, usually because he has a smart attorney, one who is paying attention and taking good care of the client. Warning – this book review contains a spoiler, so don’t go any further if you don’t want to know too much about the plot and resolution.
The Appeal is the exception. No one wins, not even the apparent winner, who sails off in the end with his empty, unsatisfying life. He schemes, he exploits, he lies, he buys elections, and he makes a fortune – and he isn’t satisfied. He is married to a woman who sounds more like a greyhound, all skin and bones and self-absorption.
The subject matter is a case where a chemical company has dumped toxic wastes into the ground in Mississippi, it has penetrated into the groundwater, and polluted the entire water system of a small fictional town. Two lawyers, married to one another, sacrifice everything and face bankruptcy to win a case for their client who has lost both husband and son to cancer caused by the toxic chemicals dumped. They win.
There is an appeal.
What this book is about isn’t just about groundwater contamination, or even about buying elections in Mississippi – it is an indictment of every state that elects judges. The core of the novel is about how big money, big corporations, pick candidates and fund them, legally and illegally, and insure that they win. They pack the courts with judges who are opposed to large settlements.
God bless John Grisham. With all his great legal thrillers, he has made a bundle and can take risks like writing a book like The Appeal, which should be an eye opener, and should be read by every caring citizen.
Judges should not be elected. When the judiciary are elected, they have to think about their next election, with every legal decision. It taints objectivity. It corrupts objectivity. It eliminates objectivity. Without an objective judiciary – why bother? They will always rule on the side whose interests are the most powerful and profitable.
Here are a couple quotes that tell you where the novel is going. My Kuwaiti friends are going to love this – I have taken so many shots at Kuwait corruption – so here it is, my friends, exposure of the institutionalized corruption in my country:
Barry laughed and crossed his legs. “We do campaigns. Have a look.” He picked up a remote and pushed the button, and a large white screen dropped from the ceiling and covered most of the wall, then the entire nation appeared. Most of the states were in green, the rest were in a soft yellow. “Thirty-one states are in the green. The yellow ones have the good sense to appoint their courts. We make our living in the green ones.”
“Judicial elections.”
“Yes. That’s all we do, and we do it very quietly. When our clients need help, we target a supreme court justice who is not particularly friendly, and we take him, or her, out of the picture.”
“Just like that.”
“Just like that.”
“Who are your clients?”
“I can’t give you the names, but they’re all on your side of the street. Big companies in energy, insurance, pharmaceuticals, chemicals, timber, all types of manufacturers, plus doctors, hospitals, nursing homes, banks. We raise tons of money and hire the people on the ground to run aggressive campaigns.”
* * * * * * * *
The Senator did not know who owned the jet, not had he ever met Mr. Trudeau, which in most cultures would seem odd since Rudd had taken so much money from the man. But in Washington, money arrives through a myriad of strange and nebulous conduits. Often those taking it have only a vague idea of where it’s coming from; often they have no clue. In most democracies, the transference of so much cash would be considered outright corruption, but in Washington the corruption has been legalized. Senator Rudd didn’t know and didn’t care that he was owned by other people. He had over $11 million in the bank, money he could eventually keep if not forced to waste it on some frivolous campaign. In return for such an investment, Rudd had a perfect voting record on all matters dealing with pharmaceuticals, chemicals, oil, energy, insurance, banks and on and on.
I like almost every book I read by John Grisham. He is a man with a conscience, and he is trying to raise our awareness of corruptive factors before our system goes entirely under. I couldn’t put this book down, and I can hardly wait to read the next one.
Dar Al Thaqafa in Doha, Qatar
I have very special feelings about Dar Al Thaqafa. When I was new in Qatar, as I started to read a very special book, it fell out of the binding. Maybe the heat has melted the glue, I don’t know, but it was not my book! It was loaned to me by the Ambassador to Qatar from Japan, and holy smokes, I had ruined it!
I went ahead and read the book, and then I had to figure out how to get it re-bound. I asked around, no one had any idea. Finally, I asked at one of the Dar al Thaqafa stores (there are several in Doha) and they told me about the Dar al Thaqafa printing plant, which was not far from where I lived.
I took the book there. They said they could rebind it. It would take about a week. I didn’t even ask the cost; it didn’t matter, I had to return the book in good condition.
When I went to pick up the book, they wouldn’t let me pay them. The man who gave it to me – with beautiful bindings and end-papers – had a big prayer bump on his head. He told me he wanted me to remember that not all religious Muslims were terrorists. I almost cried. Maybe I did, a little, when I got back to the car, it is just such a perfect example of God’s grace, and how we are supposed to love one another and be kind to one another.
So this weekend, as I drove around familiarizing myself with my old secret back ways to get places, I came across the first Dar Al Thaqafa book store I ever visited, with Little Diamond, down near the Dira’a fabric souks. You would hardly know it was there, if you didn’t know it was there. We only found it because the toy vendor outside had some dancing Saddam Husseins and Osama bin Ladens – I have never seen them anywhere else. Then we spotted the bookstore – and oh, what heaven, all kinds of books, a bookstore any book lover would love:
Qatar is a conservative country. You might be wondering how I can take pictures so freely – I always ask.
So I asked if I might take photos of the bookstore.
“Why” asked the man at the desk.
“I love this bookstore,” I responded, “and I take photos of places that might not exist in the next five or ten years. I try to record what was special and unique in a country.”
He beamed with delight!
“This is the oldest bookstore in Qatar!” he exclaimed! “This is the original of all the Dar al Thaqafa bookstores!” He gladly gave me permission to photograph.
They carry textbooks, reference books, religious books, children’s books, and all kinds of school supplies, from the most elementary grades through the most specialized university courses.
You know I read and write Arabic on a very very basic level. I can proudly say my niece, Little Diamond reads and writes on a fluent level, and as we leave book stores, we are often staggering under the load of the books she buys to take home and read. This store, and the Jarir bookstores, are a couple of our favorite stops.
I had a family cookbook printed with all our best of the best recipes – the Dar al Thaqafa on Merqab did the printing and cover and binding for me. They did a great job.
As much as I like going to a Barnes and Noble, you walk into just about any Barnes and Noble and it is like walking into the same one, whether you are in Pensacola, Seattle, Houston, Charleston – they all pretty much follow the same pattern. It is calculated and more than a little sterile. Not so the Dar al Thaqafa, where books are piled here and there, pens are all in one place, children’s books in piles – you kind of have to search for what you want, but they usually have it, or can find it for you, or tell you where to go for it.
The Little Prisoner and Child Abuse
Of all the books our book club read this year, The Little Prisoner by Jane Elliott (not her real name) was the most troublesome. The first one to finish said it was boring and repetitive. The second refused to read it at all, that the content would have images that would polute her mind. Both were right, and at the same time, if we refuse to look at what troubles us, we collude with the abuser.
I hate bullying. A man who beats and plays sexual games with a child is a bully and worse – he is a betrayer of trust. Children come into the world pure, clean slates. They can create their own mischief, their own evil, but to be corrupted by an adult – that is the absolute worst sin.
Today’s Gospel reading in The Lectionary is about this very behavior – that betrayal and/or corruption of a child is a huge sin against God:
Matthew 18:1-14
18 At that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, ‘Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?’ 2 He called a child, whom he put among them, 3 and said, ‘Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. 4 Whoever becomes humble like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. 5 Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me.
6 ‘If any of you put a stumbling-block before one of these little ones who believe in me, it would be better for you if a great millstone were fastened around your neck and you were drowned in the depth of the sea. 7 Woe to the world because of stumbling-blocks! Occasions for stumbling are bound to come, but woe to the one by whom the stumbling-block comes!
8 ‘If your hand or your foot causes you to stumble, cut it off and throw it away; it is better for you to enter life maimed or lame than to have two hands or two feet and to be thrown into the eternal fire. 9 And if your eye causes you to stumble, tear it out and throw it away; it is better for you to enter life with one eye than to have two eyes and to be thrown into the hell* of fire.
10 ‘Take care that you do not despise one of these little ones; for, I tell you, in heaven their angels continually see the face of my Father in heaven.* 12 What do you think? If a shepherd has a hundred sheep, and one of them has gone astray, does he not leave the ninety-nine on the mountains and go in search of the one that went astray? 13 And if he finds it, truly I tell you, he rejoices over it more than over the ninety-nine that never went astray. 14 So it is not the will of your* Father in heaven that one of these little ones should be lost.
The book was, in one sense, an easy read. It only took about three hours to read it. It was, as the first reader said, repetitive, but then once a bully has found a victim, the behavior does tend to be repetitive, and, as in the book, it also escalates.
The victim’s father bullied her, and he abused her sexually from the time she was four until she was seventeen. He terrorized his wife and other children, and he terrorized the neighborhood with his violence and threats of violence. To this day, the author and her family live far away, and fears her step-father finding out where she is.
I found the writer unlikeable. I wanted to feel more compassion for her than I did. I think part of my problem was that she stayed in the situation even into her teens, even into early adulthood, without seeming to rebel, without taking any steps to get herself out of the situation. She tells us straight away that she has personality defects, troubles with trust and betrayal, and that she sometimes turns to drink. A part of me knows that people who have been systematically abused over a long time can lose that ability to resist, rebel, to ask for help, but another part of me can’t understand it at all. A part of me is impatient with her weakness, I want her to stand on her feet and make her life a testament to her survival, I want her success in overcoming her childhood to be the sweetest kind of revenge. Unfortunately, life is more complicated than that, and her murky ending is probably the more realistic. Abuse leaves lasting damage.
The Little Prisoner is not an easy read in terms of content. There were times I felt she exaggerated to sell the book; to make hers just a little more interesting than the other ones out there with which her book is competing. There is a part of me that would prefer not to see, not to have those images in my mind.
We know, from all the literature, that children who are abused can grow up to be abusers. I have had friends who were abused who refused to have children at all, afraid they would perpetuate the behavior, even though they had a horror of the violence, and were gentle and peaceful people. How do we intervene, how do we break the chain of abusers begetting abusers? How do we change the behaviors? Can abusers really change?
The Little Prisoner brings up a whole host of uncomfortable questions. We can read, we can discuss – but if we choose to look the other way, aren’t we in a small way colluding with the abusers, allowing them to continue while we look the other way?
Enmegahbowh
Yesterday, one of the songs we sang was an oldie but goodie, To Be a Pilgrim, written by John Bunyan, who wrote Pilgrim’s Progress while serving a jail term for preaching without a license. We sang the old fashioned version:
Who would true valour see,
Let him come hither;
One here will constant be,
Come wind, come weather
There’s no discouragement
Shall make him once relent
His first avowed intent
To be a pilgrim.
Whoso beset him round
With dismal stories
Do but themselves confound;
His strength the more is.
No lion can him fright,
He’ll with a giant fight,
He will have a right
To be a pilgrim.
Hobgoblin nor foul fiend
Can daunt his spirit,
He knows he at the end
Shall life inherit.
Then fancies fly away,
He’ll fear not what men say,
He’ll labor night and day
To be a pilgrim.
(Actually, I may have drifted off because I don’t remember singing the part about the hobgoblins or foul fiends . . . or maybe we sang a slightly more updated version . . .)
Yesterday’s reading in The Lectionary had a great prayer, which also included the word “pilgrim:
Almighty God, thou didst lead thy pilgrim people of old with fire and cloud; grant that the ministers of thy church, following the example of blessed Enmegahbowh, may stand before thy holy people, leading them with fiery zeal and gentle humility. This we ask through Jesus, the Christ, who liveth and reigneth with thee in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God now and forever. Amen.
And it had this wonderful story of an American Saint, Enmegahbowh – A saint from the original inhabitants of our country:
ENMEGAHBOWH
PRIEST AND MISSIONARY (12 JUNE 1902)
[James Kiefer has no bio for Enmegahbowh. Below is a biography from A Pioneer History of Becker County Minnesota by Alvin H. Wilcox (1907). Enmegabowh was the first Indian ordained in the Episcopal Church.]
In 1851, the Rev. Dr. Breck, a great missionary, whose name must be known to every reader of the “Soldier,” [“Christian Soldier”] began a mission at Leech Lake, among the Ojibwa Indians of Minnesota. This mission, from various circumstances, had only a partial success, and in the winter of 1855-56 troubles with the government agents roused the Indians to such madness that Dr. Breck was forced to leave, and the mission buildings were burned.
Two years later the Rev. Mr. Peake went to Crow Wing to establish another mission, and young Indian deacon, John Johnson, his Indian name Enmegahbowh, came to assist him. This man had beeen a catechumen under Dr. Breck, and had been baptized by him. He must have been born to some position in his tribe, as he had been set apart for a “Medicine Man” in youth, and his Indian name, Enmegahbowh, meant “The man who stands by his people,” a significant name, which in time proved to be a true one.
In 1861 Mr. Peake resigned the mission into the hands of Enmegahbowh. Crow Wing was then a settlement of very bad repute on the frontier. In 1862, the year of the Sioux outbreak, Hole-in-the-day, a leading Ojibwa chief, a bad man, full of craft and cunning, collected five hundred warriors, and prepared for a general massacre of the white people. Enmegahbowh, having prevented, by his influence, some other bands from joining these, was made a prisoner, but succeeded in escaping, and, through the midst of great perils, made his way to Fort Ripley, and by his timely information, such measures were taken that bloodshed and a more fearful massacre than that of the Sioux were prevented.
For a few years the mission work seemed at a stand still. From Canada Enmegahbowh received earnest invitations to go where comfort and hopeful work awaited him, but Bishop Whipple encouraged him, standing in the forefront for an unpopular cause and a hated people, and Enmegahbowh would prove the fitness of his name — he would not desert his people.
At last the government made new arrangements, and seven hundred Ojibwa were moved to what is called the White Earth Reservation, a tract thirty-six miles square in northern Minnesota. Of these seven hundred about one hundred and fifty were French half-breeds, or Roman Catholics. Amongst the remainder Enmegahbowh labored earnestly, the government now aiding in the work by encouraging the Indians in civilized ways. A steam sawmill was built at White Earth Lake, where Indians were taught to run the machinery, and from which lumber was furnished for building purposes. Eastern churchmen assisted the mission, and a church and parsonage were built.
At the time of the consecration of the church in August, 1872, quite a party of the clergy and laity, through the kindness of Bishop Whipple, were enabled to visit White Earth.
The consecration was on Thursday. Friday morning, the chiefs signified to the bishop their wish to meet with him in a council, which was therefore held, that afternoon, on the hillside in front of the church. It was a picturesque scene — the lovely landscape, the sunlight glancing through the tall oak trees on the bishop and Enmegahbowh, who sat in the centre, the chiefs and five or six clergymen grouped around. Behind the bishop three chairs were placed for the ladies of the party — the first time, I think, that ladies were ever admitted to an Indian council.
The chiefs spoke in turn, as they had themselves arranged, and were interpreted by Enmegahbowh. — Christian Soldier.
The Rev. John Johnson was born in Canada and died at White Earth on the 12th of June, 1902, at the age of 95 years.
God had someone in mind who was already set aside by his people to serve him, and he had the most wonderful name for a priest – The one who stands by his people. How cool is that? His heart was ready, when he heard the words, and he served mightily.
Peninsula Editor Responds to Qatar’s Advisory Council
From today’s Peninsula:
Advisory Council’s opinion surprising
Web posted at: 6/11/2009 6:45:39
Source ::: THE PENINSULA/ BY Khalid Abdul Rahim Al Sayed
Khalid Abdul Rahim Al Sayed
The Emir, His Highness, Sheikh Hamad bin Khalifa Al Thani, declared the media free in the country in 1995 and with the launch of Al Jazeera, we have shown the world that Qatar is a country which allows different opinions to be heard.
We were, therefore, quite surprised by the outcome of a debate in the Advisory Council on Monday, which called for stringent punishment to be given to Qatar-based journalists who write against the ruler, national security, religion and the Constitution.
First of all, all the above subjects are already protected by the Qatari Law. Second, we must remember that there is a provision in the Qatari Constitution which allows its revision at a future date by the next generation. We have a saying in Arabic which roughly translates into English as ‘one generation cannot control another’. By raising this debate, the Advisory Council has made a generalised conclusion without addressing the issue directly.
We find it strange that the Advisory Council, made up of Qatari nationals, has this kind of opinion when His Highness The Emir has given us the freedom to voice our opinion on issues freely and in a fair manner.
We are concerned as a Qatari newspaper that if these restrictions are imposed on Qatari journalists, they will be afraid to report news and events as they see them. Needless to say, the impact on foreign scribes here would be too deterring.
I am an avid reader of local newspapers. None of them has ever written anything objectionable against the four subjects referred to in the Advisory Council debate. The Advisory Council, I am afraid, has failed to address the issue of irresponsible journalism. Other nations will find it strange that a country which advocates media freedom through the establishment of Al Jazeera will condone such practice. If there is any misuse, it shouldn’t be generalised. Doing this would soil Qatar’s image in the world.
Given this backdrop, we urge the authorities concerned in Qatar to come up with a new Media Law that would protect the freedom of our journalists, especially as the old press legislation was enforced years ago, in 1979.
Khalid Abdul Rahim Al Sayed is the Editor-in-Chief of The Peninsula
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