We conclude our celebration of the fortieth volume of the International Journal of Middle East Studies with an excerpt from another article of yore recommended by a former IJMES editor.

We continue celebrating the fortieth volume of the International Journal of Middle East Studies with an excerpt from an article of yore recommended by a former IJMES editor.

The previous excerpt is taken from a column by Syrian journalist Hakam al-Baba, published in the London-based Pan-Arab newspaper al-Quds al-ʿArabi. Al-Baba, a middle-aged Syrian journalist known for his biting sarcasm, has written some of the most perceptive critiques of Syrian and Arab media, including a famous 2005 article in the Syrian daily Tishreen, in which he relates his experience of harassment by the mukhābarāt. In the excerpted column, al-Baba uses the raging Pan-Arab controversies over reality TV for a critique of Arab political dependence on the United States.

[European Union] EU environment policy aims to promote sustainable development and to protect the environment for present and future generations. It is based on preventive action, the polluter pays principle, fighting environmental damage at source, shared responsibility and the integration of environmental protection into other EU policies. The acquis comprises over 200 major legal acts covering horizontal legislation, water and air quality, waste management, nature protection, industrial pollution control and risk management, chemicals and genetically modified organisms (GMOs), noise, and forestry. Compliance with the acquis requires significant investment. A strong and well-equipped administration at the national and local level is imperative for the application and enforcement of the environment acquis. . ..

When asked about “political control of a population,” Michel Foucault responded, “[P]ower had to gain access to the bodies of individual, to their acts, attitudes, and modes of everyday behavior . . .I believe that the political significance of the problem of sex is due to the fact that sex is located at the point of intersection of the discipline of the body and the control of the population.” This insight is often reflected in the relationship between literature that deals with the body and the discipline imposed on it by various institutions (whether religious or social) in the form of censorship. One good example of that “ethical” exercise of power versus dramatic literature emerged when Sameh Mahran, a professor at the Cairo Academy of Arts, wrote Al-Marakbi (The Boatman), a play in two acts with an epilogue.

What is the relationship among gender, embodiment, and consumption? How does the media constitute consumers, desires, and subjectivities? How are we to conceptualize the role of media representations in the making of bodies and selves without granting these representations a deterministic power? These questions were central to my anthropological work on the embodiment of femininities and masculinities in a low-income neighborhood in northern Cairo.

Since 1974, U.N. peacekeepers on the divided Mediterranean island of Cyprus have patrolled a buffer zone that divides the Greek-leaning, government-controlled south from the northern third, the self-declared Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus (TRNC). The economy of Northern Cyprus resembles that of other small islands with negligible industrial production that rely on the service sector to generate income. What makes Northern Cyprus unique, however, is that the rest of the world does not acknowledge it as a separate political entity. This limits economic functions because the “country” cannot trade freely and depends on Turkey, the only nation to formally recognize Northern Cyprus.

This carefully composed portrait of a high-ranking Ottoman bureaucrat is striking for several reasons. First, at nearly 16 by 13 inches, it is at least four times larger than most portraits of this period and lacks the ornamental cardboard frame into which portraits were commonly placed, instead being pasted directly onto a cardboard support. Second, although there is a long tradition of documenting men at work or places of business in the photography of the late Ottoman Empire, these images tend to privilege traditional occupations (e.g., itinerant merchants or craftsmen) and sites of commerce, such as outdoor markets, the covered bazaar, or shops along the Grande Rue de Pera in Istanbul. Third and finally, in its setting, the objects chosen to be included on the desk, and the pose of the central figure, the portrait insists upon the modernity of the subject as its primary message, raising questions about its intended audience.

Challenges to academic freedom have been much in the news of late, with coverage and interest extending well beyond college newspapers and the publications of our profession.

In the United States, there is no question that members of the Middle East studies community have been disproportionately targeted. A number of our colleagues have been victims of ugly smear campaigns regarding their scholarship; several tenure cases have triggered vicious, high-profile “extramural” attacks against junior faculty; and, in a handful of cases, our colleagues have been barred from giving talks or participating in educational events, owing to their political positions on Middle East-related issues. Others from outside this community who have also ventured to engage key regional issues in critical ways have had their invitations to give presentations in policy or academic forums rescinded.

At first glance, in contrast to political documents, official demographic data, particularly total population figures, “look innocent.” The common tendency is to accept them “as is” because governments tend not to manipulate the declared number of their citizens. In most cases this assumption is true. Is it also true for Saudi Arabia? In the 1970s and 1990s, Saudi authorities published the results of two demographic censuses that numbered the Saudi citizenry at 6,218,361 in September 1974 and 12,310,053 in September 1992. However, many experts found these figures to be highly inflated, as shown in the table.

Incomes and inequality in the Ottoman Empire can be estimated from the information recorded in tax registers called tahrir defterleri, arguably the most prized, heavily used, but still underutilized sources of Ottoman history. Although generations of prominent scholars have been fascinated by these registers and numerous historians have used them for a variety of regional and historical studies, their full potential has not been fully utilized in quantitative analysis of questions with a broader comparative dimension, wider geographic coverage, and larger historical significance.

“Jack of all trades” Ahmed Midhat Efendi, one of the most famous and popular Ottoman writers of the 19th century, ranged widely in his subject matter, which included economics. Although he was criticized for not having a proper education in the field, his independent thinking made him the most important critic of the laissez-faire system that prevailed in the Ottoman Empire. He disapproved of the liberalism transferred from the West in a normative framework.

In August 2001, a conference on the state of Middle East women's studies took place at the Rockefeller Foundation Center in Bellagio, Italy. Apart from the gorgeous surroundings, the conference was memorable for the breadth and scope of the high-quality papers presented by scholars teaching in the United States, Europe, the Middle East, and North Africa. Many participants were active in the Association for Middle East Women's Studies. Some went on to establish the Journal of Middle East Women's Studies, Hawwa, and Brill's women and Islam monograph series. Most of us also publish in disciplinary journals and present papers at a variety of conferences.

Every society has subterranean fractures—ethnic, regional, racial, tribal, or sectarian. Given the right confluence of events, these can erupt and take on new life. When imperial and colonial powers produce a body of knowledge about those they rule, they often construct sociodemographic categories along these very fault lines. In the Middle East, this process has coincided with an attempted regional remapping using imagined and yet real (although newly configured) social categories. With the democracy project fading, the mosaic—in which the region is conceptualized as a multitude of discrete sociocultural units based on sect, ethnicity, and tribe—has appeared. Complex social categories are distilled into bounded categories whose correspondence to reality is problematic.

Recent calls to boycott Israel, including its academic institutions, have stimulated heated debate over the relationship between boycotts and academic freedom. Academic boycotts admittedly raise complex issues, as they typically trammel academic freedom to some degree. Nonetheless, I do not favor a blanket refusal to engage in them. Although applying a negative presumption, we should consider academic boycotts on a case-by-case basis.

More than twenty-five years ago, a small group of South Asianists challenged the bourgeois-nationalist and colonialist historiography of Indian nationalism. Based mostly in India and critical of “economistic” Marxism, they aimed to recover the occluded histories of what Antonio Gramsci calls “subaltern social groups” and to put into question the relations of power, subordination, and “inferior rank” more generally. The influence of subaltern studies quickly became international, inspiring research projects in Africa, Asia, the Caribbean, Latin America, and the Middle East.