ARABIC-L: GEN: The AUC Controversy

[Dilworth B. Parkinson]

[Moderator's Note: I will do one more posting on this subject in a week or
two,
all at once, and then cut it off.  I will try to include only messages with
a calm
demeanor and with something new to add.  I believe this will steer a middle
course between driving subscribers from the list with "out of control"
discussion, and allowing everyone to have their say.  Thanks for your
participation. Dil]


----------------------------------------------------------------------
Arabic-L: Wed 24 Feb 1999
Moderator: Dilworth Parkinson <dilworth_parkinson at byu.edu>
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-------------------------Directory-------------------------------------

1) Subject: Response to Mr. Al-Tonsi (Magda Al-Nowaihi)
2) Subject: Response: AUC & Academic Freedom (Muhammad Siddiq)

-------------------------Messages--------------------------------------
1)
Date: 24 Feb 1999
From: Magda Al-Nowaihi <ma181 at columbia.edu>
Subject: Response to Mr. Al-Tonsi

Response to Mr. Al-Tonsi

In his recent posting, Mr. Al-Tonsi (and I will not
play coy like him and call him the Arab instructor from AUC) decides to
adjudicate between two camps and set us all straight, since we are all so
incapable of having a dialogue with one another. In setting us all
straight, Mr. Al-Tonsi describes Prof. Siddiq and myself, and foolish
others like us perhaps, by using , among many others, such insults as
"arrogant" "ignorant" "orientalist" "narrow-minded" and "stooping" to
"juicy" and "provocative" stereotypes of Arab culture. Mr. Al-Tonsi also
makes the accusation that we are cowards, who would not and could
not take positions critical of imperialism or Zionism, and instead direct
our hostility at our own Arab culture --  self-hating Arabs par
excellence. In my attempts to respond to Mr. Al-Tonsi's plentiful
accusations, and to disagree with some of his positions, I will try hard
to reintroduce a level of courtesy into the debate that is most
unfortunately missing from his rebuttal.
1. I must first and foremost express my astonishment at Mr. Al-Tonsi's
characterization of my positions and politics, which indicate that he does
not really know very much at all about me. I am in fact, and without any
doubt, anti-imperialist and anti-Zionist. I do indeed assign and teach
almost all the works which he mentions and  which be believes I would not
dare to. To give just a few examples, last semester I taught Abdallah's
al-Tawq wa-al-Iswar in my graduate seminar on the Arabic novel at Columbia
University in New York city, and assigned al-Mutashail for a class
presentation. This semester, in an undergraduate class of Arabic
literature in English translation, we are reading Fadwa Tuqan (talking
about the English selling her people in the slave market) Mahmud Darwish,
depicting the Israeli invasion of Lebanon, and Ghassan Kanafani's Men in
the Sun. In our department's largest introductory class , with over 150
students, I teach Amin Maaluf's The Crusades through Arab Eyes, and Assia
Djebar's Fantasia , focusing on depictions of horrifying European
brutality against Arabs through the centuries. In my current class on
gender issues in middle eastern studies, we read strong critiques of the
economic conditions of Palestinian women under Israeli occupation, and
harsh criticism of even so called "liberal" and "dovish"  Israeli leaders
like the late Rabin.  I am fortunate to count both Edward Said, author of
Orientalism, and Sonallah Ibrahim as dear friends. I have in fact written
and delivered several conference talks about the works of  Ibrahim
mentioned by Prof. Al-Tonsi, and currently my former student, Prof. Samah
Selim, is translating his novel Dhat into English and I am contacting
publishers in the USA to try and get it published here. We know that will
not be easy because of the novel's critical stance on western
interventions in the region, but we intend to fight hard for its
publication. I do not hide my opposition to America's bombing of and
sanctions against Iraq.  I will refer Mr. Al-Tonsi to one forthcoming
paper of mine, which clearly states my position on Zionism, colonialism,
and so-called global culture as a form of neo-colonialism, entitled
"Arabic Literature and the Postcolonial Predicament,"  in A  Guide to
Postcolonial Studies, eds. Henry Schwarz and Sangheeta Ray, Blackwell
Press. I must say I feel rather silly having to say these things about
myself, and am not grateful to Mr. Al-Tonsi for putting me in a position
where I have to defend my ethics and politics.
2. Mr. Al-Tonsi assumes that I believe "AUC, faculty and administration,
are of one opinion and incapable of having individual thoughts."  Nothing
can be further from the truth. It is because of my knowledge, from MANY
DIFFERENT faculty members at AUC whom I count as my friends, that the vast
majority of the faculty are in fact supportive of academic freedom and
feel an urgent need for  a clear institutional policy regarding complaints
from students and parents, and attacks from the press, that I launched
this campaign. It was in support of AUC faculty who feel increasingly
pressured to censor themselves in their teaching and their writing, and
who get little to no support from their administration, that we urged
colleagues to write letters of support for Prof. Mehrez and others like
her who  have the courage and integrity to raise their voices in protest
and find their position and reputation tarnished as a result. It is
because I feel it is disgraceful that I can read with my American students
here in New York works of literature which my colleagues in Egypt dare not
read with their students that I felt impelled to move. AUC is in fact my
alma mater, and it will always have a warm spot in my heart. I choose to
excercise that love , however, not by flattering its administration and
accepting its official positions, but rather by supporting its more
vulnerable members and the principles which make it a great university.
3. I disagree with Mr. Al-Tonsi that al-khubz al-Hafi is a third rate
work , as would many critics of Arabic literature, and most importantly, I
think that characterizing it as a work that advocates sexual liberation is
totally missing the point. The book is about hunger: for food, for love,
for physical closeness, for respect, and for freedom. These multiple
hungers are caused by various structures of oppression which result in
deviant behavior which the author exposes movingly and courageously.
Regarding the issue of whether works written in languages other than
Arabic can be considered Arabic literature, I do not think I am alone in
arguing that they should be. I mentioned Assia Djebar and Amin Maaluf
above, and although they both write in French, to my mind their works are
eloquent depictions of what it means to be an Arab brutalized and
colonized by the
French, and by the French language and culture.  I can also mention
Khatibi, Ben Jalloun, and many others who are turning the very language of
the colonizers against them , and addressing issues that are extremely
relevant to the Arab nation. At any rate it is neither up to Mr.
Al-Tonsi, nor to me, to determine the canon of Arabic literature, which,
like all canons, must continually be revised and expanded through open and
public debate.
4. Finally, the issue of respect for cultural traditions is a complex one.
What does it mean precisely to respect a culture? Is it equivalent to
accepting it unquestioningly,  refusing to criticize it or advocate any
changes? Are most of us --Arabs who really love our homelands and peoples,
totally satisfied with the conditions prevailing there now? And if not,
what is our duty as teachers and writers? Specifically for AUC professors,
whose students come from extremely privileged backgrounds and who will end
up holding important and influential positions in our Arab nation, is it not
necessary to expose them to all aspects of society: good and bad,
beautiful and ugly, clean and filthy, under the guidance of their
professors? If this exposure makes these young men and women
uncomfortable, or if they find it distasteful, is the solution to remove
these books from the curriculum? To use an analogy I have used previously,
would it be responsible for the professor of medicine to allow her
students to refuse to dissect the human body and examine closely its guts,
urine, blood, etc. because they find this disgusting? Just as we cannot
heal the human body without exposing  all its gory details, we will not
heal our societies if we allow our students to avert their eyes from its
less than praiseworthy aspects. Just as I should not, and will not, allow
my Zionist students to pressure me into removing works critical of Zionism
from my syllabus under the pretext of being sensitive to their beliefs, I
hope my Arab colleagues working in the Arab world will not allow their
students, or anyone else for that matter, to pressure them into doing away
with works critical of any and all aspects of our civilization, for that,
my dear Mr. Al-Tonsi, is neither a sign of respect for a liberal arts
education, nor for our students, nor for our culture, nor, ultimately, for
ourselves.

Magda al-Nowaihi
Columbia University

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2)
Date: 24 Feb 1999
From: Muhammad Siddiq <siddiq at socrates.berkeley.edu>
Subject: Response: AUC & Academic Freedom

Mr. Abbas Al-Tonsi's February 20, 1999 piece on Arabic-info alludes to
Professor al-Nowaihi and myself in a sardonic remark and, I assume,
includes us both in its free-wheeling denunciation of those who support
academic freedom, many of whom have written specifically in support of our
colleague, Professor Samia Mehrez at AUC.  To the extent that I am able to
follow its rambling style,  the statement seems to make a mockery of
intelligent scholarly debate and to flout the very principles of liberal
arts education of which, I believe, academic freedom is a corner stone.  It
is out of respect to our serious colleagues on this and other lists who
showed remarkable selflessness in putting principle before personal comfort
in connection with this case, that I feel compelled to respond at some
length to Mr. Al-Tonsi's statement.  I shall do so by addressing the main
points as they appear in that statement, preceded by Arabic numerals and
enclosed within quotation marks in the following.

1. "The two opposing groups unjustifiably ascribe to themselves the
role of guardian and shepherd. The students who complained about the
pornographic language of the text are labeled as tattletales by one
group and immature brats by the other. No attention is paid to the true
nature of liberal education nor to the importance of student input
if such a process is to be meaningful.
In advocating extremism, the two opposing groups are surprisingly
so narrow-minded that they can only see things as either black or white.
No dialogue permitted. Agree with me or pay the dear price."

Notwithstanding its external gesture towards even-handedness, the lumping
together of advocates and opponents of censorship as equally "extremist" in
the above passages betrays either a fundamental confusion or a willful
distortion of categories.  For whereas the opponents of censorship advocate
inclusiveness and representation of the entire range of discourses,  the
proponents of censorship advocate exclusion and thus, implicitly, arrogate
to themselves the right to decide what is or is not permissible, not only
for themselves, but also for others.  Unless Mr. Al-Tonsi can show us how
academic freedom can coexist with arbitrary censorship, his attempt to
smear the defense of academic freedom as a form of "extremism" will, at
best,  ring hollow.  I, for one, fail to see how the posting of a statement
in support of academic freedom on a public list qualifies as a "extremist"
or "narrow-minded" position that sees "things in either black or white" and
disallows "dialogue." How else, if not by the open and free exchange of
ideas in a public forum, can a meaningful dialogue about such crucial
issues take place, especially among people who are literally worlds apart?
And where precisely in the discourse of advocates of academic freedom does
Mr. Al-Tonsi find an ultimatum that says: "agree with me or pay the dear
price?" What power, other than the cogent force of reason, perhaps, do
advocates of academic freedom have to enforce such an alleged ultimatum?

2. "One group sees the attempt not to ban this third rate work as an
invitation to
promiscuity and lewdness. The other regards any restraint as a sign of
reactionarism and backwardness or, at best, an attack on the freedom of
speech: A view which fits with the misinformed, albeit commonly held,
stereotypical image of an East that represses freedom, oppresses women,
and persecutes minorities."

Whether al-Khubz al-Hafi is a third or a first rate work is not the issue.
Difference of opinion on this matter is perfectly legitimate; but not so
the banning of the book, or any book, on grounds of "obscenity" or
"profanity." The leap, however,  from the specific issue of censorship and
academic freedom to the other generalizations in the above passage boggles
the mind.  Particularly disconcerting is the cavalier interjection in this
debate of emotionally charged but by now largely useless terms such as
"reactionarism, " "backwardness, " and "the East". This practice may score
points with "the converted," but it does little to advance the search for a
viable solution to acutely felt problems in our contemporary Arab culture.
That such basic problems exist and constantly test our individual and
collective sense of identity can hardly be gainsaid; indeed the very
question of freedom of thought and expression in all walks of Arab life is
just one such issue.  Even a rudimentary knowledge of Arab/Islamic history
is sufficient to show that this problem is as innate in our culture as it
has been in all other cultures at one phase or another in their historical
development.  The representation of the human body has in recent centuries
emerged as a litmus test for the limits of freedom in Arab culture. But, as
a brief glance at both classical Arabic literature and popular literature
would show, this wasn't always so.  In fact,  neither Abd Allah al-Nadim,
the speaker of the Urabi uprising, nor the Palestinian poet Ibrahim Tuqan,
nor the contemporary Iraqi poet Muzaffar al-Nawwab, nor the late Egyptian
'Amiyya poet Najib Surur, had any qualms about using "profane" language for
artistic ends. Were they any different in this regard from, say, D.H.
Lawrence,  Henry Miller, or James Joyce?

3. "How so conveniently juicy and provocative a thought to two stooping Arab
professors at Columbia and Berkeley!"

This frivolous attempt at cuteness is only partially successful: it is
frivolous.  Its abstruse syntax aside,  it does little, in my humble
opinion, to enhance Mr. Al-Tonsi's claim to intellectual seriousness.

4. "Both groups presume that AUC, faculty and administration, are of
one opinion and incapable of having individual thoughts. How arrogant
and ignorant indeed!"

Who in his or her right mind, at least among the advocates of academic
freedom, would have written a word to urge steadfast support of this
cherished principle if they had assumed that AUC is such a monolith?  It
should give us all pause that Mr. Al-Tonsi, an instructor at a prestigious
University,  fails to grasp the paramount significance of an open public
debate where divergent opinions are expressed freely to inform the
democratic process of decision making.  Personal insults demean without
informing; please, spare us all!

5. "Conveniently, these stout, fierce defenders of the freedom of speech
have been too busy to express their thoughts about the continued American
Rambo adventurism against Iraq. Have I been so out of touch that I missed
the shouts of them protesting Zionist expansionism and the hundreds of
articles produced by these strugglers denouncing American Imperialism?
Is it unfair to perceive their position for what it is: an orientalist
perspective that caters to what Orientalists wish to see in our literature
or our culture."

This is yet another example of Mr. Al-Tonsi's free-wheeling charge against
an ad-hominem adversary of his own creation.  To the best of my knowledge,
most members of the scholarly community who expressed their outrage at the
attempt to censor books at AUC have also expressed on different occasions,
each in his or her own way, their outrage at the barbaric assault on the
people of Iraq and against Israeli racism and expansionism.  Mr. Al-Tonsi's
diversionary tactic of slinging mud --"orientalist" or otherwise-- at
reputable scholars is too transparent to pass muster: as we say in Arabic:
"il'ab gherha."
As to the case of unhappy Iraq, why do you, Mr. Al-Tonsi, choose to forget
that it is Saudi and Gulf States money that paid, and still pays for the
mercenary American and British military presence in the Gulf which is
bleeding Iraq to death? The enlightened discourse of Arab nationalism had
taught us to consider Imperialism, Zionism, and Arab reactionary regimes as
partners in the unholy alliance against the interests of the Arab nation.
Nothing in what I have seen or heard since the purported demise of Arab
nationalism causes me to reconsider the validity of this fundamental truth.

Nor will blaming others endlessly for our problems, facile though it is,
get us anywhere near a viable solution to the real problems that beset our
contemporary Arab life.  (To the best of my knowledge, neither imperialism,
nor Zionism, let alone orientalism, were responsible for the crucifixion of
al-Hallaj or the public humiliation of Ibn Rushd!) Were "meddling others"
responsible for the tragic fate of Shaykh al-Biqa'i in the Tenth Islamic
century, whom Ibn Hijr describes as a great and prolific scholar? Here is a
rough translation of that painful scene as described by the eminent
Egyptian scholar of Islam, Ahmad Amin, largely paraphrasing Ibn Hijr:
"al-Biqa'i used to take issue with Ibn Arabi and to refute some of his
views.  He considered Ibn al-Farid a better poet than a Sufi. He also took
issue with al-Ghazali's statement that "this is the best of all possible
worlds." The public rose up against him. He was declared an apostate and
condemned to death, and was almost killed, were it not for the timely
intervention of some men of power on his behalf.  He was made to repent and
his Islam was renewed.  (One day) some religious scholars entered his house
and found him alone. They took to beating him on the head with their shoes
until he almost died.  Then scholars took to writing books against him and
in defense of al-Ghazali.  When he finally developed dyspnea they ascribed
it to the curse of Ibn al-Farid (on him)." (Fayd al-Khatir, Maktabat
al-Nahda al-Misriyya, 6th printing, 1965, p. 93.)

Was the late Ahmad Amin acting on the behest of the perennial enemies of
Arabs and Muslims or in the best interest of both when he, in the best
tradition of Arab and Muslim historians,  put truth, accuracy, and above
all self-criticism, ahead of all other considerations? I confess that I
prefer Ahmad Amin's alternative to Mr. Al-Tonsi's manichean rhetoric of
either/or. For I can imagine an ardent, but not uncritical, love of
Arab/Islamic culture that inspires thinking and creative contemporary Arabs
to rise above our dismal present to a future worthy of the best in our
great heritage.

In that light, the struggle for a free, open, democratic, and progressive
Arab world appears to me indivisible, and hence, progress on any front is
progress on all fronts.  As academics, we are within our right to consider
the safeguarding of academic freedom anywhere in the Arab world a worthy
cause and to act in good faith to promote it each according to his or her
personal ability.

6. "Is it a coincidence that they choose not to teach Mahmud Darwish's
poem "Aberoun fi kalaam Abir"? Or Habibi's "Ikhtifaa Said "(even after he
accepted an Israeli award)? Is it a random event that "al-Lajna" or
&"Beirut..Beirut" by S. Ibrahim?! Were they worried about being
labeled as anti-Zionist or anti-Imperialist?! Or have they simply towed
the line of defining liberalism only in terms of sexual freedom?! Dare
they discuss the Holocaust? Dare they discuss even the Israeli violations
whether in south Lebanon or in West bank?
How I wish to support these "liberals"! Alas their case
is hopeless this time. "

The syntactic incoherence of the preceding passage may be the result of the
loss of part of the text; but the shrill tone has survived intact.  Again,
I am at a loss to identify the intended villains of the piece. Since I
assume that the sweeping charge includes me, please allow me to mention a
few personal facts. I do so with distinct displeasure and unease not to
brag or to defend my personal and professional integrity, neither stands in
need of Mr. Al-Tonsi's approval, but only to juxtapose facts to innuendo.

As a matter of fact, Mr. Al-Tonsi, I do regularly teach and write on
Darwish's poetry, Habibi's prose, as well as the prose of Kanafani,
Khalifa, Jabra, and other Palestinian and Arab writers. It so happens that
the first item on the reading list of a course I taught last semester at
Berkeley "Styles of Arabic" was none other than Darwish's famous
nationalist poem, "Identity Card." If Mr. Al-Tonsi, or anyone else for that
matter, provides a fax number, I will gladly fax them a copy of the class
syllabus.  Also apropos this matter,  my monograph on the works of the late
Ghassan Kanafani was, to the best of my knowledge, the first work on a
Palestinian writer in a foreign language.  All this, of course,  is public
knowledge and, as such, is available to Mr. Al-Tonsi for the asking.

On this subject, however, I have an unpleasant surprise for you, Mr.
Al-Tonsi.  In the process of discussing Darwish's famous poem, Madih
al-Zill al-'Ali (In Praise of the Tall Shadow, 1983) in class here at
Berkeley one day,  a fellow Palestinian student asked whether Darwish was a
Muslim.  I instantly answered in the affirmative, drawing the student's
attention to the poet's Islamic first name.  He retorted: "but that makes
him a kafir (an unbeliever)." I asked: "how so?" In answer, he pointed to a
powerful image in which Darwish, addressing the Palestinian people,  says:
"The cross is your vital space, your only path from one siege to another."
As we all listened politely, the student went on to elaborate: "This verse
clearly shows that Darwish believes that Christ was crucified, which is
contrary to the Islamic view. Ergo, Darwish questions the validity of
Qu'anic revelation, and that makes him a kafir" All my attempts to explain
the difference between the recourse to poetic imagery for emotive effect
and the shape of religious belief were of no avail. For this student,
Darwish is kafir, and that is that.  In a similar vein, other students have
on occasion objected strenuously to Kanafani's deployment of the Islamic
trope of martyrdom in the secular discourse of nationalism and patriotism,
to Al-Tayyib Salih's depiction of sexuality, and to Abd al-Hakim Qasim's
treatment of religious matters (not to mention Mahfuz's tabooed novel Awlad
Haratina).  I could go on, but you get the point.  For those of us who take
imaginative literature and intellectual matters seriously sloganeering and
warn out cliches unfortunately provide no adequate answer to such real and
recurrent challenges.

Perhaps because the syntax is garbled, I cannot make out the intent of the
reference to Sonalla Ibrahim's works al-Lajna and Beirut, Beirut.  Mr.
Al-Tonsi may not know that Sonalla Ibrahim's novella al-Lajna was
translated into English by two graduate students under my direct
supervision at the University of Washington.  The translation was even
accepted for publication but was ultimately scuttled by differences over
technical matters between the writer and the publishing house.  Also, if it
is any consolation for Mr. Al-Tonsi to know,  Sonalla Ibrahim has just
concluded a semester-long stay as a guest of our Department at Berkeley.

7. "Convince me, if you can, that introducing a novel
which was not written in Arabic but written by a "khawaga"
based on the story told in poor Spanish and then translated into Arabic
falls in the realm of the Arabic novel! How can one possibly separate the
story from the discourse and consider language as a mere vehicle?"

The strident rhetoric takes an ugly turn here.  To begin with, as Taher Ben
Jelloun writes in the blurb to the novel, the reason why al-Khubz al-Hafi
appeared in several European languages before it appeared in Arabic is the
very taboo against such writing in modern Arabic literature.  It is
possible that Mr. Al-Tonsi adopts the version of Paul Bowles on this
matter, which would be instructive under the circumstances, since Muhammad
Shukri and the facts strenuously refute it. Be that as it may, how does
this linguistic fact make the work itself that of a "khawaga" i.e.
foreigner, when its source, autobiographical subject, and Arabic version
are unmistakably Shukri's?  What rationale informs such an exclusionary
rhetoric that would make membership in Arab identity and culture a
contingent dispensation wielded at will by Arab against Arab?  At the
bottom of this treacherous slope lurks a danger of endless civil strife and
fratricide.
Still on the language factor, Mr. Al-Tonsi, out of all people, should know
that for centuries all belletrist texts were viewed with disfavor in
official Islamic culture; but especially so works of popular literature,
such as The Thousand and One Nights and the folk epics, because they did
not conform to linguistic standards of the official canon.  Isn't Mr.
Al-Tonsi's "linguistic consideration" a regressive, anachronistic, and
embarrassingly parochial throw-back to these unspeakable practices?  And,
incidentally, would Mr. Al-Tonsi ban from Arabic literature and Arab
culture all texts that were not written in Arabic? Would his list include
the works of such prominent writers as Walid Khalidi, Edward Said,  Hisham
Sharabi,  Charles Issawi, Amin Maalouf, Philip Hitti, Albert Hourani, Kateb
Yecin, and numerous other Arab writers who happened to write on Arab
affairs in foreign languages, or would he just brand as "non-Arabic" works
that he dislikes?

7. "Let them teach, if they dare, Y.T. Abdullah "Al-Touq wal-Iswera" which
they either implicitly or explicitly advocated not publishing its English
translation simply because it portrays the folkloric stereotype of a Jew
in the Middle East. Neither the novel's talented narrative movement (not
mentioned by Genette) nor its other folkloric feature, typically of great
appeal to the West, could save it from being banned by these "liberals."

Again, I cannot make much sense of this.  We both, Professor al-Nowaihi and
I, love al-Tawq wa al-Iswera and admire the talent of the late Yahya
al-Tahir Abd-Allah.  And we both have taught this great novel in our
courses.  The recondite referents of the rest of the passage, if any such
exist, completely escape me.

8. "Finally the question here is, simply put: Why include the novel or the
autobiography "Plain Bread" in an Arabic Literature curriculum when it
was not written in Arabic in the first place? Can any professor consider
a novel written originally in French then translated into English as
English literature ?! And why use a secondary source like Rodinson's
Mohammed when not jointly balanced with a primary source, a violation
of the ABC of scientific thinking? In any University in USA can a
professor teach a book about Jesus written by an Arab Muslim who has a
critical point of view as the only source?!"

This is an apt finale for an extraordinary piece of writing. For your
knowledge, Mr. Al-Tonsi, works written originally in different languages
and translated into English are often taught in English courses at many
American universities.  The Arabian Nights is just one outstanding example.
Again, to cite an example from my own university, I often teach Arabic
novels in courses which are cross-listed with English and, for all
practical purposes, count as English literature courses. I will be happy to
provide Mr. Al-Tonsi with a copy of the reading lists of such courses, or,
if he prefers, he can request these directly from the secretary of the
English Department at UC Berkeley. Simply ask for the reading list, say, of
my course "Cultural Encounters in the Novel" which is listed under English
165.

Let me conclude this inordinately long and excruciatingly unpleasant
rejoinder by thanking you all for your kind patience. If the exchange
succeeds in promoting, however minimally,  our common interest in academic
freedom, or indeed freedom in general, it will not have been in vain.  In
the meantime, as I am about to go on a sabbatical for a semester, I will be
signing off soon by unsubscribing to this and all other lists until I
return to Berkeley next August. Let's hope for a reunion in happier times.
All the best,
Muhammad Siddiq

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End of Arabic-L: 24 Feb 1999