The Dream Palace of the Arabs

The latest book I consumed is Lebanese scholar Fouad Ajami's hauntingly masterful The Dream Palace of the Arabs. As one would expect from this author, this memoirish account of Arab intellectuals' attempt (and failure) over many years to bridge the gap between their native lands and the modern world is beautifully written and conceived. It tells of a generation's frustration at the stagnation and regress evident in the Arab world -- and the inability to come to grips with modernity and secularism.

Ajami paints the sad picture of Beirut's descent from the jewel of the Mediterranean to war-torn sect-ridden redoubt to home of a failed/puppet state. He showcases the Egyptian promise that keeps getting frustrated by the various false prophets of socialism, nationalism, and Islamism. He lingers over the disappointment of relations with the only successful country in the Middle East, Israel. (Think about it: In 60 years, Israel has come from literally nothing to a higher standard of living than much of the West, and done it on a tiny sliver of land boasting no natural resources.)

The overwhelming theme is disappointment and lost opportunities.

Ultimately, I am not deserving of this book. Not because it's too high brow, but because Arab culture just does not appeal to me in a way that, say, Mediterranean or Latin American culture does. I recognize and appreciate Ajami's lament, but don't identify with it as I do the equivalent refrains from a Borges or a Tornatore.

The Arabs have nobody to blame for their problems but themselves and, as with Operation Iraqi Freedom, they will ultimately have to solve them themselves, with the West (i.e., the civilized world) playing a role no greater than consigliere.