31 mars 2011

Let us remember...

The news world is abuzz about President Obama's decision to intervene in Libya through the imposition of a no-fly zone.

I'd like to unequivocally state from the outset that I believe his move to have been a good one because it was necessary. It was first and foremost a humanitarian obligation that we, as a country that has no qualms about intervening and that never ceases to proclaim its international interventions as part of a mission libératrice, could not ignore. Its urgency was made even greater by the fact that we were and are not alone in this mission. Not only are our typical western allies beside us in this undertaking, but we also have the backing of the Arab League, which took the initiative in calling for help in abating and hopefully ending the crisis in Libya.

The measured steps taken by Obama and his administration regarding Libya are not, as some of his usual critics have claimed, anti-constitutional or weak. They are a sign that gone are the days of America as a thoughtless, selfish bully that unilaterally charges against any nation it deems unfit of existing as it exists. Contrary to popular belief in this country and among its recent and current leaders, the United States is neither a prosecutor, nor an executioner vis-à-vis its global peers; and yes, that includes the countries we hate. No international organization assigned it those roles and it certainly did not acquire them by virtue of being the (arguably) sole democratic superpower. By virtue of the latter, it is merely an arbiter, and a limited, questionable one at that. It must, therefore, not take its moral responsibility—as well as its ability and willingness to militarily intervene—lightly, nor without an earnest consideration of the history of errors it has helped to write and has miserably failed to correct.

Regardless of the aforementioned justifications and moral obligations (abstract terms, I admit), it is important that the United States and its leaders not lose sight or critical consideration of the role of the U.S. in arming rebel forces or leaders in the past. I say this now, because there is talk on the news of CIA operatives on the ground in Libya, considering (or already) training and arming Libyan rebels. Surprisingly (and frighteningly so), not a single mention has been made of previous examples of arming rebels in the world, and particularly in the Arab world and the Middle East. I could not remain silent before this gaping maw.

Two ominous examples come to mind and we should all heed them and measure our current intents and future actions in Libya by them. First, there is the example of Iraq and the United States' close involvement with it during the Iran-Iraq War (1980-1988). What did we do then? Throughout the 1980s, we surreptitiously armed Saddam Hussein, by then the undisputedly ruthless leader of Iraq, against a greater enemy of ours, Iran. Shortly thereafter, Iraq became an aggressor and consequently our enemy during the first Gulf War (1990-1991). As if that wasn't enough, by 2002 Iraq became this country's favorite enemy and Saddam Hussein our president's favorite villain. The man we had assisted in fighting our common (and for us, greater) enemy was now an enemy we 'had to' fight for the second time in fewer than fifteen years. Our unjustified attack on Iraq during the Second Gulf War is presently the subject of criticism (as well it should be!); but we must not forget the slightly more distant past in our relationship with Iraq. On the contrary, just as we remember our aggression on Iraq in 2003 as an unforgivable and senseless national error when there is talk of military intervention against X or Y country, so should we remember the fact that high-ranking officials and intelligence operatives of this country of ours armed and trained Saddam's regime throughout the 1980s.

My second example will speak, I believe, more clearly about the dangerous practice of arming just anybody who opposes those regimes or leaders whom we don't like. After the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan in 1979, the United States was much too eager to train and arm anybody—anybody—who fought against them. For Afghanistan, it was not a clear leader like Saddam Hussein, but rather numerous mujahideen who, while fighting against the Soviet Union, also fought amongst themselves and continued the latter civil war even after the shameful Soviet withdrawal in 1989. We were active and guilty of the beginning of a series of events that led to Afghanistan's utter destruction, and to the eventual ascent to power of the Taliban. The most notorious example of those armed by the U.S., however, is the one whose name we have all learned to hate: Osama bin Laden. If you need a jolt to your memory, Osama bin Laden is the most elusive terrorist and the one who has cost the United States billions of dollars and thousands of victims. After sleeping in the same bed with him, the CIA is now looking for him in vain.

Needless to say, these are not the only examples that have backfired on our pompous behind. A quick look at African or Latin American history merely strengthens the unmistakable pattern of the U.S. wrongly supporting one power against a more despised one, only to subsequently find itself an enemy of its former 'ally.' It is because of this pattern that African and Latin American countries have been plagued by anarchy, coups, violence, and genocide for decades; it is also because of this faulty pattern that we find ourselves fighting two wars in precisely those two countries and against the forces we aided the most and most furtively against our even more despised enemies at the time.

Let us, then, remember these friends-turned-enemies when we next speak of arming Libya's anti-Gaddafi rebels. However admirable their struggle against Gaddafi, we must not lose sight of what we will be doing if we decide to arm them: we will once again arm an unorganized, amorphous force against a common enemy, much like we did with Iraq against Iran and with Afghanistan's mujahideen against the Soviet Union. This is not to say that the Libyan rebels are already our enemies, nor that they will become our enemies. It is simply meant to add more measure to the steps we take in solving the crisis in Libya, which ought to primarily remain one of ensuring that as few lives as possible are lost. Therefore, the best thing to do is to exercise the greatest pressure possible through diplomatic means, or through political and economic sanctions on Gaddafi and his inner circle. The no-fly zone is a fair (however imperfect) first attempt at preventing massacres on civilians, but it is certainly not enough. Nevertheless, it must not be followed by our typical move of arming one side against the other in such conflicts. Obama has intimated that he is willing to break from traditional international policy; he must now go one step further in that attempt and unequivocally show that we are no longer a careless, thoughtless aggressor; that our primary concern is (indeed, as it is repeated ad nauseam) the preservation of individual human life; that we have learned from our actions in the world; that we have both the hindsight and the foresight necessary not to repeat errors that became tragedies, calamities, wars.

26 mars 2011

«Të pi!»

I

Haj verëshitës sill të pi!
Të lutem nxire butin jashtë,
Këtu ma verë afër t'i rri
Të pi, të dehem sa për gjashtë
Dhe vendit të mos luanj.
Zemrimet s'dua më t'i ndjej!
Me verë t'i mbyt sa të shuhen,
Në gas të qarët do ta kthej
Mendime mua nuk' më duhen
Veç etjen le ta shuanj!

II

Haj verëshitës shtjer' mos rri!
Sa më pëlqen e shkreta verë;
Të çel të bën si më të ri
Të ndizet gjaku menjëherë
Të gjitha rrotull qeshin.
Dëshirë kam një ças t'jem mbret!
Çdo vrer që kam do ta bëj mjaltë,
Të ronj i lumtur pak mi dhet;
Se nesër dhe do t'jem e baltë
Dhe, breg do ta bënj sheshin!

ASDREN

«Ti me sy të zinj!»

O moj ti me sy të zij
Q'i ke flokët porsi ar,
Eja mezin të ta marr:
Se po s'ardhe do t'të vij!

O moj ti me sy të zij
Q'i ke buzët si qershi,
Falma dorën e mos ri:
Se po s'ardhe do t'të vij!

O moj ti me sy të zij
Me vështrimet si rrufe,
Falmi sytë që më sheh:
Se po s'ardhe do t'të vij!

O moj ti me sy të zij
Me ato lule rreth në bres,
Nem një lule të mos vdes:
Se po s'ardhe do t'të vij!

ASDREN

«Ku shtrohet vala...»

(Romancë)

Ku shtrohet vala përmbi zall
E fryn një këng' e pakuptuar,
Të pashë, motër, plot me mall,
Më pe më shpirt të llaftaruar.

Q'ahere silleshim më nge
Gjith vet-i dytë, vet-e dytë...
Dh'i shtinja sytë gjith përdhe—
Gjithë përdhe m'i shtinje sytë...

Po me t'u ndarë vet e vet,
Më s'kishim turp që s'kishte fjalë...
Na rritej malli posi det,
Posi një det që vjen me valë:

E prapë silleshim më nge
Gjith vet-i dytë, vet-e dytë;
E prapë sytë gjith' përdhe,
Gjithë përdhe pikonin sytë.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Q'ahere qamë plot me mall
Atë vështrimin e kaluar,
Ku shtrohet vala përmi zall
E fryn një këngë e pakuptuar.

Se kish kuptim, që s'kish kuptim,
Kuptim' i fellë-i mallit tonë;
Se malli jon' ish zotërim,
Që robëron përgjithëmonë;

Se s'dashuronja-as un' as ti,
Po dashuronte dashuria:
Një dashuri — një fshehtësi
M'e fshehur sesa fshehtësia.

Lasgush PORADECI

17 mars 2011

«5 minuta pas orës tetë në një fshat të vogël»

Terri po ulet ngadalë si një zog i plagosur me flatra të mëdha e të rënda.
Disa gjethe pranë meje fërfëllijnë ëmbël.
Në shtëpitë e kacavjerrura pas kodrës kujtohen të ndizen dritat,
Që me yjet ngatërrohen lehtë
E në oxhakun e një shtëpie mbështet butë hëna e njomë.
Pulat në një kotec rrotullojnë sytë dhe nxjerrin pasthirrma të tulatura nga gjumi.
Dhe përroi pa fjalë që ndrin pjesë-pjesë
Ështe me siguri gjerdan argjendi i zbuluar papritur në një tempull antik.
Një qen sakaton heshtjen, pas tij të tjerë.
Muallin e trembur një lopë që kthehet vonë nga kullota
E cila tërhiqet me zor me litar nga një vajzë e heshtur;
Gërvin një qerre mes fushës paanë,
Qerrtari këndon me zë të shpejtë
(Mos do të largojë frikën vallë?)
Fshatarët kthehen nga puna,
Dyer që hapen dhe mbyllen,
Unë përkëdhel një mace të përvuajtuar,
Që perëndon sytë orë e çast.
Tani ime më lan enët – tek unë e ka mendjen,
Tani im atë dëgjon lajmet – tek unë e ka mendjen,
Tek unë mendjen dhe vëllai atje në Tiranë...
Ora tetë e pesë.

Ervin HATIBI
Përditë shoh qiellin, 1989

14 mars 2011

«When You Are Old»

When you are old and gray and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

William B. YEATS

02 mars 2011

«Katër këshilla vetes»

Mos u bëj poet nëse s'mund të lindësh
me secilin varg, të lindësh me secilën fjalë.

Ngrehu mbi veten në do t'rrokësh frerët e erërave,
të shkelësh shpërgajt e mërisë dhe shtrëngatat e gjakut tënd.

N'se dashurohesh, dashurohu n'flakë e n'valë,
jo në sy të kaltër, se bëhesh det i çmendur pendimi.

Mos u bëj poet nëse s'mund të vdesësh
për secilën varg, të vdesësh për secilën fjalë.

Azem SHKRELI

«¡Ay voz secreta del amor oscuro!»

¡Ay voz secreta del amor oscuro!
¡ay balido sin lanas! ¡ay herida!
¡ay aguja de hiel, camelia hundida!
¡ay corriente sin mar, ciudad sin muro!

¡Ay noche inmensa de perfil seguro,
montaña celestial de angustia erguida!
¡ay perro en corazón, voz perseguida!
¡silencio sin confín, lirio maduro!

Huye de mí, caliente voz de hielo,
no me quieras perder en la maleza
donde sin fruto gimen carne y cielo.

Deja el duro marfil de mi cabeza,
apiádate de mí, ¡rompe mi duelo!
¡que soy amor, que soy naturaleza!

Federico Garcia LORCA

01 mars 2011

«Lavdi i saj»

Ajo është pikësëpari nga ato që dua t’i lëvdojnë.
I kam ardhur rreth shtëpisë, shkuar poshtë e lart
Siç shkon njeriu që një libër ka botuar,
Apo një vajzë e re që një fustan të ri mbart;
E ndonëse bisedën me hir a pahir e kam drejtuar
Ku tema kryesore të bëhej lavdi i saj
Një grua prapë për përralla ka dashur të fliste,
Apo një burrë hutimthi të ëndërronte pastaj,
Sikur një tjetër emër ndër mend i shkonte e vinte.
Ajo është pikësëpari nga ato që dua t’i lëvdojnë.
S’do të flas më për libra a luftën e gjatë
Por do të ec nëpër ferrat e thata derisa të takoj
Një lypës strehuar nga era dhe me atë të ngratë
Të bëj çmos të dal ku emrin e saj të shqiptoj.
Sa të ketë leckamanë, emrin kanë për t’ia mësuar
Dhe do t’kënaqen të kujtojnë se në kohë të largëta,
Ndonëse të rinjtë e patën lëvduar e pleqtë fajësuar,
Mes të varfërve, si pleq e të rinj, i thurnin lëvdata.

William Butler YEATS

23 shkurt 2011

«Among School Children»

I

I walk through the long schoolroom questioning;
A kind old nun in a white hood replies;
The children learn to cipher and to sing,
To study reading-books and histories,
To cut and sew, be neat in everything
In the best modern way—the children's eyes
In momentary wonder stare upon
A sixty year old smiling public man.


II

I dream of a Ledæan body, bent
Above a sinking fire, a tale that she
Told of a harsh reproof, or trivial event
That changed some childish day to tragedy—
Told, and it seemed that our two natures blent
Into a sphere from youthful sympathy,
Or else, to alter Plato's parable,
Into the yolk and white of the one shell.


III

And thinking of that fit of grief or rage
I look upon one child or t'other there
And wonder if she stood so at that age—
For even daughters of the swan can share
Something of every paddler's heritage—
And had that colour upon cheek or hair,
And thereupon my heart is driven wild:
She stands before me as a living child.


IV

Her present image floats into the mind—
Did quattrocento finger fashion it
Hollow of cheek as though it drank the wind
And took a mess of shadows for its meat?
And I though never of Ledæan kind
Had pretty plumage once—enough of that,
Better to smile on all that smile, and show
There is a comfortable kind of old scarecrow.


V

What youthful mother, a shape upon her lap
Honey of generation had betrayed,
And that must sleep, shriek, struggle to escape
As recollection or the drug decide,
Would think her son, did she but see that shape
With sixty or more winters on its head,
A compensation for the pang of his birth,
Or the uncertainty of his setting forth?


VI

Plato thought nature but a spume that plays
Upon a ghostly paradigm of things;
Solider Aristotle played the taws
Upon the bottom of a king of kings;
World-famous golden-thighed Pythagoras
Fingered upon a fiddle stick or strings
What a star sang and careless Muses heard:
Old clothes upon old sticks to scare a bird.


VII

Both nuns and mothers worship images,
But those the candles light are not as those
That animate a mother's reveries,
But keep a marble or a bronze repose.
And yet they too break hearts—O presences
That passion, piety or affection knows,
And that all heavenly glory symbolise—
O self-born mockers of man's enterprise;


VIII

Labour is blossoming or dancing where
The body is not bruised to pleasure soul.
Nor beauty born out of its own despair,
Nor blear-eyed wisdom out of midnight oil.
O chestnut tree, great rooted blossomer,
Are you the leaf, the blossom or the bole?
O body swayed to music, O brightening glance,
How can we know the dancer from the dance?

William Butler YEATS

22 shkurt 2011

My Norma Rae Moment

Whether we are union members and whether we sympathize or clash with them, in most circles it goes without saying that unions have been a tremendous force in bargaining for, garnering, and guaranteeing the rights and privileges of workers of all industries across the country.

Whether you are a TA in a state university like ours, an auto worker in Michigan, or a coal miner in West Virginia, chances are at some point you have been part of a union or have wanted to be one. Regardless of our individual relationship with a union of which we are a member (I have beef with mine) or with one you might oppose (nowadays, it seems most do), there is much praise to be apportioned to unions on what they collectively guarantee their members. While I admit and deplore that this 'collective' defense on the part of unions may mean defending, along with excellent teachers (to take one near example), mediocre or poor-performing ones, no ill words should be said about the overall purpose, work, and results of the work of unions. No organization is or will ever be perfect. Nevertheless, unions can still focus and work harder in order to restructure themselves, find new ideas, embrace new causes to defend, demand greater accountability on the part of their individual members etc.. What certain state executives have proposed, however—that unions' rights for collective bargaining be abrogated—amounts to nothing less than hamstringing workers as they are stripped of solidarity and support and left as mere, disposable individuals facing the cold eyes of the state and the colder eyes of large corporations. It is for this reason that no individual presently in a union—regardless of how satisfied he or she is with his or her current union—ought to support such legislative initiatives and abandon the union in its time of need.

There is, in addition to this function vital to the individual, an even greater necessity for unions in this political climate. In the aftermath of the Citizens United case, whereby corporations are allowed to contribute to political elections as they please and how much they please, unions are left as the only force capable of countering the corporations' unavoidable intrusion and imminent control of our political system at all levels. And while the left and the right may each find almost-exclusive support in one or the other, I would rather have two opposing forces survive and influence our political system and politicians, rather than one money-hungry force hellbent on making a game of this country's politics and pawns of its citizens.

14 shkurt 2011

«Lumtësia»

Shumë thonjë se vjershat duhet të jenë
Të shkruara ashtu, që të jesh ndë gëzim
Të mos e helmojnë zemrën, të mos kenë
Çase hidhërimi që të biesh në trishtim!
Ta rëfejnë botën se gjithherë çkëlqen
Se s'ka brenga dhe lumtësia mbretëron!
Ah! ç'lumtësi, këtë sicilido e ndjen
E kush ësht ndë botë që këtë s'e kërkon?
Kur ay që e kërkon aq lumtësinë
Dhe s'mund t'arijë një qëllim që dëshiron
Mallëkon Perëndi edhe njerëzinë
Se s'i ndihn fati për atë q'ay lakmon!
Po kur njeriu është ndë kënaqësi
E s'ndjen nevojat e botës që e rrethon,
Oh! at'herë ç'i duhen dhe vjersha me bukuri
Kur ay e ka ndë taskët atë që e gëzon!

ASDREN
Reze djelli