The instrumentation and music of the ‘arada bands that are ubiquitous in Damascus, Syria reflect diverse musical influences within the enduring framework of Turkish janissary bands (mehter). While the basic instrumentation and function of ‘arada bands are Ottoman in essence, Damascene bands perpetuate a sound that may be deemed Syrian (and specifically Damascene) through utilization of song forms and improvisation. In the vein of Jonathan Shannon’s modernity improvisation model, I demonstrate the ways that ‘arada practices shape and reflect perceived Damascene modernity through the vessel of tradition. Under the present political circumstances, Syrians are relying on cultural practices from al-turath (heritage) such as ‘arada to uphold and/or contest existing ideas of both self and the nation. I discuss how these bands contribute to a constructed and unifying “authentic” Arab identity through an exploration of the socio-cultural and nationalistic trends that have and are effecting contemporary ‘arada practice. The findings presented are a culmination of the research and data gathered through multiple on-site fieldwork trips, including a 9-month Fulbright residency in 2009/2010. This study provides an in-depth examination of Syrian ‘arada musical practices while offering perspectives on modernity and authenticity through the processes surrounding ‘arada bands in Syria today.

This paper examines the political impact of the use of new media by NGO’s for purposes of collecting donations and for the management of charitable organizations in Turkey. Internet and cell phone technologies are used increasingly for the collection and donation of funds in the era of global governance. The web interface provides new forms of social intimacy by ‘connecting’ potential recipients with donators both at national and international scales. In this paper, I examine the political discourses and ethical practices surrounding the use of new media in the charitable sector by analyzing Turkey as a case-study. The empirical evidence consists of 14 months of fieldwork in Turkey during which I observed and discussed the use of new media in the collection and donation of charity. More specifically, I compare the utilization of new media by two well-known civil society organizations in Turkey situated in different political constituencies: Deniz Feneri (Light House) and Cagdas Yasam (Contemporary Life). Through a comparative and systematic analysis of the technological repertoire utilized by these two organizations in Turkey, I argue that new technologies of giving foster abstract intimacies, solidarities and ways of social belonging.

In this paper, I examine the early theatrical productions and television dramas of Syrian director, writer, and actor, Durayd Lahham, who created the popular character, Ghawwar al-Toushe. Ghawwar appeared continually in miniseries, films, and theatrical productions of the 1960s through the late 70s. Secular in approach and highly critical of politics, the emphasis in these sarcastic comedies was on an embattled masculinity within the family, which served as a microcosm of the state. I argue that the presence of a frustrated masculinity in marital relations served as a way to critique corruption, dictatorship, and economic hardship. Consider "Day'at Tishrin, written by Lahham and Mohammad al-Maghut and directed by Khaldun al-Malla. Here the lengthy engagement of Zana and Naif, who are never able to marry due to economic marginalization and lost dignity, serves as a potent means of denouncing corruption and the oppressive security apparatus. I also examine the miniseries "Hamam al-Hana," "Sahh al-Naum," and "Milh wa Sukkar," where the emphasis is on the notion of marriage as a prison. While much blame for economic and social malaise is placed on the government, society is also held accountable. The social and political critique of the 60s and 70s laid the foundation for the theme of a desperate, politically disenfranchised masculinity, which has dominated contemporary Syrian cultural production in recent years. Indeed, these issues of disempowerment continue to be used as a critique of corruption within societal relations, as well as the government, which has failed to abdide by promises of social welfare. In "Walada min al-Khaserah" (2011) Jaber, who lives with his wife and daughter on the margins of society, says: "We are treated like animals. I'm not considered a man, since I don't have money." In "Abu Janti, Malek Taxi" (2011), Abu Janti is a poor man, supporting his mother and sister on the scraps he makes as a cab driver. At thirty-five, the idea of marrying has reached the level of impossibility. The constant references to Abu Janti's injured masculinity, his continual encounters with the injustice of the government and police, is not only reminiscent of the character, Ghawwar al-Toushe, but the miniseries is filled with direct references to the pioneering, politically critical work of Durayd Lahham.

[Note: the author can bring a portable projector, if MESA can schedule the paper in a room with a 5' X 5' white wall or a screen.] On December 5, 2011, pop star Jennifer Lopez opened the Morocco Mall in Casablanca, a large-scale, multi-use luxury retail center in the seaside industrial and economic heart of the country. The location in Casablanca and association with an American icon with international appeal after a Moroccan princess ceremonially cut the ribbon are fitting for more than economic and publicity reasons. Situated on the corniche and close to the 1989-completed Hassan II Mosque, which has the tallest minaret in the world, among other Guinness record-type boasts, the Morocco Mall offers its visitors a similarly dazzling array of amenities, including an aquarium with sharks; the third largest musical fountain in the world; a free-standing IMAX cinema; and high-end, European stores not previously on the African continent. Morocco Mall is the result of collaboration between several trans-national design firms; a United Kingdom based Italian born and United States educated designer, Davide Padoa; and Moroccan financiers with government connections. Though perhaps the first of its kind in North Africa, the Morocco Mall is the latest in a long line of similar complexes in the Arab world, specifically Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates. However, even less than many of its sister structures and certainly dissimilar to its neighboring mosque, the Morocco Mall exhibits few conscious references to its national and cultural locale referenced in its name. Publicity materials stress the influence of the natural environment and sea, in general, and, in one interview, Padoa proudly compared his creation to the “original Galeries [sic] Lafayette store on Boulevard Haussmann in Paris” while opining he had helped bring “France back to Morocco,” a surprising assertion given France colonized Morocco less than a century ago. The following paper analyzes the plan, decor, contents, and materials of the Morocco Mall, in addition to official press releases, to answer the question of what such a complex is meant to convey about the Moroccan identity today and to which audiences. An ending statement will explore criticisms of the Moroccan mall, and how the complex has been used during its first year of creation, and, thus, how it has acquired additional and, perhaps, unintentional meanings.

The traditions of fishing, pearling, and seafaring on both Gulf littorals have for centuries been a means of cultural exchange among diverse linguistic and ethnic communities. From the 18th century, Persian families settled down on the Arabian shore, and Arab tribes from Eastern Arabia such as the Maraziq and Qawasim established villages on the Iranian coast (Darya`i, 2012). These Arabs were called Huwala, ‘those who have moved’. According to travelogues and British archival materials, most settlements on the Iranian coast and neighboring islands were under the influence of Arab tribal chiefs until the mid-20th century, when their dominance abruptly ended with Reza Shah`s centralization of the government. Subsequently, Huwala Arabs were said to have returned to the Arabian Peninsula to rejoin their original tribes, and to enter the booming oil economy and construction sector. The common belief still holds among both Iranians and Gulf Arabs that no Huwala Arabs remain in Iran (Nadjmabadi, 2005). In recent political, social, and cultural descriptions of the Gulf provinces, Iranian authors tendentiously deny Arab presence (Nurbakhsh, 2003). This paper addresses the following questions: Are we right to surmise that Arab culture completely vanished from Iran`s Gulf region? If so, did it leave any trace? If it did not disappear, where can it be found, and to what extent does it affect the local population`s life? Social networking and video-sharing websites offer unexpected resources for the investigation of these questions. In this sphere, we are witnessing a tiny, but steadily growing movement that aims to reach out to the world and show the existence of Arab culture in Bushehr and Hormozgan Province. Torn between Iranian denial and Arab neglect, the Arabs on the Iranian Gulf coast have begun to use social media to send signs of life to the rest of the world. This paper analyzes selections from Facebook profiles, YouTube channels and independent websites, and demonstrates how Iranian Arabs as an ethnic, linguistic, and religious minority preserve and present their culture. It will be argued that despite the presence of a vibrant Arab cultural life in certain areas, the contributors to these forums occasionally magnify the importance of Arabs by blending older footage with recent ones. Nonetheless, the very existence of Arab cultural events, recitals of nabati poetry and Arabic folk tales in Iran is a heritage to be cherished and not to be neglected by Gulf Arabs on the opposite coast.

From 1934 to 1941, three British-governed radio stations were established in the inter-war Middle East: the Egyptian State Broadcasting service (ESB), which began broadcasting from Cairo in 1934, the Palestine Broadcasting Service (PBS), which began broadcasting from Jerusalem in 1936, and the Near East Broadcasting Service (NEBS) or al-Sharq al-Adna, which began broadcasting from Jaffa in 1941. These three stations shared a common administrative heritage, being modeled on the BBC and run according to British notions of good governance and fiscal responsibility. In some cases, this heritage was transmitted directly from Britain, in the form of seconded BBC personnel, like R.A. (“Tony”) Rendall. In other cases, the stations shared in-country British station administrators like Rex Keating, who served as Assistant Director of both the ESB and the PBS, and Ralph Poston, who served as PBS Controller and NEBS Director. Examining these three stations in tandem highlights both their shared British heritage and the disjuncture between local administrators’ perceptions of their station and that of British officials. Using one case study for each station – the hiring of Lutfy Bey as Director of Arabic Programming at the ESB, the PBS’ “Jerusalem Direct News Service”, and the broadcasting of khutba-s on the NEBS –, this paper highlights the tension between national and regional broadcasting mandates, as well as the challenge that managing each station raised for British officials in the UK and in-country. Building on earlier work on these stations, this paper engages concepts of soft power, territory, sovereignty and trans-nationality, asking how station administrators, Foreign and Colonial Office bureaucrats, and local elites understood and applied these concepts. Second, it throws into question older models of ‘media imperialism’ and newer models of ‘cultural diplomacy’, by highlighting the role of the private sector, the confusion produced by overlapping governmental initiatives, and by differing degrees of British jurisdiction in each case. In doing so, it reflects on how BBC notions of corporate independence and British notions of good governance could transfer to stations that fell under such diverse jurisdictions and saw themselves so differently. Finally, it extends this reflection to the present, asking whether we might see in the rise of satellite television channels and private sector broadcasting the knitting together of a new sense of regional, if not imperial, connection.