Conclusion

Yemen Round-Up

The following was written March 19th, thus is not current.

As I sit alone in a McDonald's in Rome, 12 hours after leaving my apartment in Yemen, I can't stem the tidal wave of memories rushing back during my first moments of post-Sana'a solitude. After replaying a few videos from the night that Mubarak resigned and the subsequent celebration-cum-protest that took place in Sana'a, there is so much to say about such a short period of time, yet perfectly impossible to recall everything.

I remember that night like it was yesterday; it was the first time I realized I was in a country where exciting things do happen. After having dinner with my Italian friends and a Saudi/Qatari acquaintance, we were walking back to our apartment on our cozy little side street when suddenly we were faced with a mob of protesters marching directly between us and our home. All of us being rookies at this, we were initially hesitant to do anything except stare dumbfoundedly at such a random sight; we had no news of Mubarak and no clue what was happening. After dipping off to a perpendicular street and letting the commencement pass us by, we saw our professors in the crowd, who also spotted us, and we decided it was safe to join. Thus began my first experience in a revolutionary environment. I won't recall everything that happened that night as it's already been written, but one of my favorite memories occurred while I was having the pleasure of riding atop an SUV in the midst of the march. I spotted a white fellow on the street, stopped and shooting pictures in a direction opposite to the crowd. It turned out to be who is now a good friend of mine, Carl. The image of him with his Nikon in perfect photographer's form is hopefully forever etched in memory; I was perplexed and curious as to who would be as crazy/foolhardy/taken-in-by-the-moment as me.

Afterwards, everything became a gradual escalation of tension, and later violence, continuing until the present time. We essentially waited daily for the next occurrence; usually, that was directly after the Friday prayers. Things would then quieten down for the subsequent few days, only to flare up again. This pattern of violence, followed by a prolonged absence of it, only for it to reoccur in a manner more impactful than before is what made Yemen and its future so difficult to call. Just when the protest movement seemed on the wane, it would re spawn more forceful than before. Even during the present time, sitting 12 hours removed from any updates on the situation, I am at a loss to make an accurate prediction of Yemen's future that I can have any confidence in.

Although I spent just over half my originally-scheduled stay there, it was still chock full of relationships and events I never expected. The people we met and the things we were witness to simply wouldn't have happened elsewhere. I suppose there's cause in stating that it is more wise to stay home and not expose oneself to inherit risk, yet no amount of time spent at any American university could have taught me what I learned in my 6 weeks in country. Was it dangerous? It certainly had the possibility of being so. Yet, there is a lot to be said for being street smart and sensing when not to stay somewhere. It helps, of course, when secret police walk up and explicitly suggest you to leave within the hour, but even during the post-Mubarak protest we missed violence and beatings by 15 minutes simply by acknowledging that it was time to go, and thus following suit . It is quite easy for one to sense when tensions begin to increase, and then it is a matter of being willing to risk one's life or not. We never were, and thus trouble never visited us. Furthermore, being neutral or even pro-whichever crowd you're with ensures a relative amount of safety. Being able to understand and sympathize with people pacifies them. How one sits in a university classroom and learns these skills, part of which are instinctual and part of which are honed, seems impossible for me to comprehend. Of course, every society needs diplomats who want to mingle with the upper echelons of the class structure in a well-protected and relatively safe environment, but just as crucial in today's socially-networked world are the foot soldiers who are willing not merely to tune in to Al-Jazeera but actually capture real-time footage to send to just such diplomats so they become cognizant of the real situation on the ground. This necessity will not go away in the near future, and people need to be experienced and trained in how to manage in such situations. Sitting in an office on a college campus and watching CNN may make oneself feel simultaneously safe and informed, yet this is exactly the bubble in which most Americans live. The dearth of objective citizens who are genuinely interested in the plight of a people and dedicated to giving them a global voice is a real cause for much of today's anti-American sentiment. Far too often we've preferred self-preserving manipulation over charity, a tactic that may be beneficial in the short-term, but the chickens will always come home to roost eventually. There is a real reason the outside world considers American media to be paltry in terms of global coverage; it's because we do not commit human resources to the developing world. This, in turn, causes an ignorance that is impossible to see clearly from, affecting both the perceptions made by our citizens as well as our foreign policy.

Even now, after a steep foreign-policy learning curve experienced by Obama and hit entire administration, American knowledge and sentiment is bathed in ignorance. It would be assumed that a self-evaluation would be undergone to see if there are ways in wish we could more-positively affect those Arabs striving for democratic change, yet a great ambivalence towards Yemen is being displayed by American media. Too often it is said that the U.S. Considers Yemen its greatest terror threat, yet nothing is mentioned about the perfect opportunity we have right now to fix that, without guns or financial expenditure. Yemenis are not terrorists and generally do not sympathize with al-Qaeda. When radical sheikh Zindani gave a speech at the university, flanked by unwelcome security guards carrying firearms, he was essentially booed offstage after calling for an Islamic caliphate to be established in the country. Hardly any foreign reporters were to be seen, and this was the Yemeni people in their natural environment expressing their true views. The U.S. Must take a gamble and side with the young people wanting to change their intensely tribalistic and not-too-developing society. Obama's strong condemnation of the acts by the current regime is a good first step, yet much money is giving to the Yemeni government, finances upon which Ali Abdullah Saleh relies heavily. If this financial aid were suspended, it would drive a massive wedge into his regime and cause him to re-think just how willing he is to keep on the current trajectory of government handouts to those whose loyalty is the most important thing to him. Instead, we hear sound-bite news clips of Yemen without seasoned, in-depth analysis, and the American people thus simply have no chance of seeing the country for what it is without going there.

Watching videos of the protest movement when there were only 2,000 people there, and the gates of the university were only about 100 yards away, it is astonishing to contrast that with the current size. Furthermore, the speed at which it escalated is quite impressive. Who, at that time, would have known that over 100 times that amount of people would be there only 1.5 weeks later, and over 50 people cumulatively would have been killed there to date? It is impossible now to get within a mile of the university, due to the number of protesters. A white statue, standing about 30 feet high was used at the backdrop of the speakers; now, it is the backdrop of a group of people spanning countless city blocks. And it all started there. I remember getting a call from a friend who seemed excited and, to be honest, quite exaggerative in his estimation of the number. When I arrived, I was disappointed at the small turn out. But, as they say, great oaks start from small acorns, and win or lose, that night was the start of a gathering of people that gained worldwide attention and currently has people thinking that Yemen is the next Libya. It is for this reason that, while I cannot say that Saleh will soon leave, I definitely cannot say with certainty that the movement will die out. These things tend to grow exponentially, and that still remains a possibility.

It's incredible, as memories come streaming back, to fathom some of the things that I got to see. Standing within 10 feet of Tawakul Karmon, the country's most famous woman because of her anti-government and about which have been written countless articles by some of the world's most-recognized newspapers, it was easy to get caught up in the moment and not fully appreciate how fortunate and rare these experiences were. When I asked someone who she was and the man told me, I remembered reading stories about her prior to my arrival, and suddenly my increased awareness added to my personal euphoria. Also within 10 feet of my was a live al-Jazeera camera streaming video of her and her entourage as they turned the anti-Mubarak celebration into an anti-government one. How I am supposed to go back to the United States and carry on my classroom studies will be a real test, but there are definitely things political and historical I can learn there that will make me better prepared if I am in the same situation again.

Before I went to Yemen, I was aware of protests taking place there, but I never expected that they'd factor into my daily life so crucially. I was expecting more of a cultural experience rather than a politico-revolutionary one, yet essentially all of my blog updates were related to the protest movement in some way. What has criminally gone unmentioned is the rich Yemeni heritage, of which they are very proud. Walking past countless Yemeni men wearing white thobes, colorful scarves, and a curved dagger called a jambayah was a daily occurrence that was probably taken for granted. Yemeni hospitality was everything I'd heard about, and more. The food was very pleasing as well, and the weather was always very accommodating, except on 3 occasions when dust storms from the nearby desert blanketed the mountain-ringed city. Walking along the sidewalk, people were genuinely interested in what we were doing in their country, and were always very pleased to hear we were there studying their language. Even during my daily trips to Tahrir Square, I never felt threatened. Although I was often an assumed journalist or soldier, no one ever threatened me or made me feel unwelcome. At worst, they were overzealous in their desire to tell me how gracious their president was, either uninformed or ignorant of the rampant corruption in his government. From an American perspective, Yemen is always portrayed as a breeding ground for terrorists where radicals are rife, yet I was never castigated for not being Muslim. Walking by mosques as they were emptying from mid-day prayers, no one ever seemed riled or inspired enough to attack the obvious foreigners walking by. I understand this flies in the face of what is reported in the United States, as I had to include that in my decision to study in the country, yet it is the truth I experienced on a daily basis.