To be straightforward, I have had a number of problems in beginning this post. Other than my own mental blocks, I’ve reached another fever pitch of potential topics on which I would like to write, all of them bouncing around in my head. It’s something of a catch 22 where I just put off doing the writing and then more potential topics build up and then I put it off even more… After sitting on it for a long time, I think I’ve decided I will talk about two things. First, I will make good on my promise to tell the story of Dr. Fear, for a lighthearted break in my one-person cacophony of political indignity. Then I will discuss some things that are bothering me about general conceptions from the West about the Middle East… in other words resuming that one-person cacophony.

So the story of Dr. Fear: Dr. Fear is my Methods of Research in Political Science professor. I debated for a while with myself whether to call him Dr. Fear or Dr. Dreams. Fear came from our first class, which he began by asking “Who has fear?” A number of people raised their hands timidly, in response. He then asked, “Who does not have fear?” A number of others of us raised our hands, of course me among them in order to establish my macho confidence which every young 23 year old guy is supposed to have (… right?). He looked us all over and said “I don’t believe you.” But then he looked at me, pointed, and said “Except maybe you.” I’m not sure why, maybe because I looked different from everyone else in class, but I wasn’t really sure how to respond.

I was set on calling him Dr. Fear from then on, somewhat wryly, until he gave a completely off-the-cuff speech on the importance of our work. Now I know a lot of people question the aim of the political, or “soft,” sciences and often outright scoff at them. Not surprisingly, I find myself somewhat defensive of my chosen track in those “soft” sciences, but I’ve never been extremely articulate in my own stance. Dr. Fear, interrupting himself in the middle of a lecture, suddenly asked “Why is political science important? Why is our work important and why is it important we actually seek the truth?” He looked at our blank faces for a second, and sensed our panic (you can imagine, a professor who begins his first class with “who has fear?” is not going to be the easiest professor). He answered himself by saying “Because politics directly impacts peoples’ lives. It impacts their livelihood. But more than that, it impacts peoples’ dreams! And bad policies not only hurt lives, they can destroy peoples’ dreams! That’s why we do what we do!”

That tangent brought me a whole heap of respect for this Professor, whose real name is Zaid ‘Eyadat, because he’s right. I think back to my friend Khalid, whose own dreams are so restricted by his identity as a Palestinian in Jordan; and Jordan is certainly not the only country in the world in which dreams and hopes are destroyed and lives are deeply impacted by politics and political decisions. As poignant and articulate as Dr. Fear’s speech on dreams was and despite the impact it had on me personally, given the dilemma between naming someone Dr. Fear and Dr. Dreams and being the young macho guy, I had to go with Dr. Fear. It just sounds so much cooler.

To conclude, quickly, I’d just like to comment on something that has bothered me in a lot of ways over the past few weeks as a result of numerous comments of a type that, at one point, I thought were simple banter. I’ve recently come to realize there is a large, if not dominant, aspect of an insidious yet subtle seriousness hidden within those comments. So:
Despite the tendencies of popular portrayal, such as on wayward covers of Newsweek or “scholarly articles” depicting the common Western conception of an Arab Muslim complete with horns, fangs, and wild unkempt hair, the Middle East is not full of demons. Women are not attacked in the streets for not veiling their faces. Men are not required to wear a crazy-long unkempt beard, except in the most crazy-unkempt places, such as the former Taliban held Afghanistan, which in all honesty should not even be considered part of the Middle East to begin with. Here in Jordan, you never see a weapon (meaning a rifle or “gun”) in the streets except for those carried by the police or the internal Gendarme. In fact, having inquired into the process, it is much more difficult to acquire and keep an assault weapon here in Jordan than it is to do so in the vast majority of the United States, where I would be able to attain one in days if I so wanted. I’m not saying that to knock on the United States, I am saying that to praise some aspects of the Middle East and try to confer the sense that for all of its negative reputation, the Middle East is not a terrorist filled wild-west scenario. In fact, by far the most dangerous part of my day is driving, but that might be said for any place in the world.

Thank you for your interest. I hope I said something worth reading.

Brennan