lundi 20 février 2012

Syria: Bashar al-Assad, intime*.

His head is not large. His brain is a fortress.

         It is broken as I entered the head of the Syrian president. It is a fortress. Before coming to get close, you have to go no less than seven dams. High security. Fear and mistrust.
         Like his father, Hafez, he stays away. The story goes that one day Hafez al-Assad had shot the seven soldiers who were to filter the flow of people who had appointments with him. Hafez loved playing chess with a childhood friend.
         Every afternoon, the friend should arise and was dig seven times before reaching the playroom one day to see the force, the soldiers let him pass without doing their job.
         When Hafez knew it, he ordered to execute the unfortunate guards who had failed in their duty. Bashar knows this little episode, among many others, as bloody as each other. He is too unreachable. He has something. When they kill, they risk being killed. So we take the necessary precautions and more.
         His head is not very large. It is occupied by hay, pins and razor blades. I do not know why. His brain is quiet. No stress, no nervousness. I do not know where he gets this tranquility. Matter of heredity, or has he followed evening classes to learn to kill without it bothers him, without in the least disturbed by misfortune he sows. I made very small and I have been listening.

I learned everything from my father.

         For the small thinks and does not hesitate to be bold ideas: I learned everything from my late father, a great statesman, a man sensitive, cultured and great strategist. I remember that Kissinger Henry appreciated him much. He told me that he too liked the U.S. Secretary of State that he admired the intelligence and political realism. They understood each other well. My father reminded me how this man remove physically Salvador Allende and replaced him with Augusto Pinochet.
         Lately, I come into contact with my father. It's great. It is he who tells me what I should do. He encourages me and tells me to follow the tracks. He told me recently, if things come to worse, to return to Lebanon because neither he nor I had admitted how our army was expelled from that country in 2005. Even Rafik Hariri's death and some other ungrateful could not remove the stigma that these Lebanese have inflicted.
         For now, it's going. I wish. Do not panic. First, I am neither Saddam nor Gaddafi. You will not see me ridiculed by U.S. agents looking for lice in my head or murdered by fanatics. These two have been had because their level of intelligence was not the best.
         I am of the al-Assad, a united family and clan solidarity. A large family, strong and powerful, which has traditions. I do not do anything. I resist against an international conspiracy. I have proof. No desire to see my country become an Islamic republic led by illiterate or a bastion of the left just stupid good paraded in European trade fairs.
         My father taught me that in politics one must have a heart of bronze. Mine, I used to this that never breaks. No feelings, no weakness. I play because my head and life of my family. The thugs who put Syria on fire and sword have what they deserve. There is talk of "Arab Spring"!
What is this story? Where do we see a spring? This is not because of agitators unconscious occupy public places as the seasons have changed pace and direction. At home, what they call "spring" will not work.
         I gave the order to suspend this season until victory. Why spring would mean my death? Not only I will not die, but I will kill everyone before. It is said in Islam that if we know two thirds of the people to keep only one-third good, do not hesitate. I apply the old law as Arabs.

Poor Obama who condemns me and speaks of atrocities! What mingles there?

         I remember that Syria is a secular country like France who suddenly betrayed me and makes me moral. And poor Obama that condemns me and speaks of atrocities! What mingles there? He did not see that his army has done in Iraq and Afghanistan?
         What's wrong with me there? To give orders to the army to fire on demonstrators? If I do not do that, I lose my place, I'd be more respected. Look at how my friend found himself Hosni Mubarak overnight ejected from his palace. He lacked determination and will.

The army has betrayed Hosni Mubarak.

         The poor, what lapse, sick, depressed, dragged on a stretcher to be tried! The people are ungrateful. They soon forget that presidents do for them. My army is composed mostly of men faithful. Those who have deserted they paid dearly. I'm not emotional. I defend myself, I would even say it is self-defense.
         I took the precaution of putting away Asma, my wife and my three children, Hafez, Zeyn and Karim. This is normal, I react like a good husband and good father. I see how irresponsible fathers push their children to show knowing full well they could be subject to stray bullets. I was told that the children died.
         I can not believe it and I thank their parents for this misfortune, for there is no worse misfortune than losing one of his children, and I remember the pain of my father the day my older brother, Bassel, died in a car accident. He cried. Yes, I saw my father crying at the injustice of fate that robbed him of his beloved son.
         My father, this remarkable man who made Syria a great country and that made life difficult for the Israeli neighbor, the president wept because he could not even revenge. Bassel dead, killed by road. It was still not bomb the road that was fatal to the son he was preparing to succeed him. He could not bear to be thwarted. Neither do I. I can never bear to be criticized or opposed.
         The United Nations has tried to get dirty and ask me to withdraw. This is interference in the internal affairs of Syria strictly. That this meeting of puppet left in peace. From where? To where? They take me for a Ben Ali? I will still not get on a plane and beg for political asylum in the world!
         Fortunately, my friend Putin Russia and China vetoed. Ahmadinejad is also my friend, he often calls me and tells me not to yield. There is still justice. The insurgents are terrorists, paid agents of Europe and even some Arab countries that have scores to settle with me. Just follow the broadcasts of Al Jazeera to understand that the conspiracy exists.

         If I do not bomb Homs, I know where I will sleep tonight in the morgue!

         I hear about torture! This is quite normal to torture to prevent massacres, so that innocent people do not fall under the bullets of poor Syrians.
         I hold the country I want to head those who want to create another plan, we should turn around and help me protect Syria's Islamist threat. I know what the Islamists will do with my tribe Alawi as well as Christian and Armenian minorities.
         The Vatican should come to my aid instead of condemning me. Fortunately these are only words. Another thing that the Europeans are currently freezing my assets at home and trying to stifle the people by preventing trade. It is petty and dishonest. It hates me because Syria has always stood against the Zionist enemy. She has never bowed to Israel.
         My father told me the day after the massacre of Hama, I was 17: You see, my son, if I had not reacted with such firmness, tonight, we would not be there. He was right. Me too, if I did not bomb Homs, I know where I will sleep tonight in the morgue! So we have to stop saying anything. 20.000 dead in Hama (at the time, nobody had responded) just between 8.000 Draa, Homs, Hama and Damascus. And all this noise!
         Asma you know why, my dear wife, I married? For values ​​that I represent. She said in Paris Match
of December 10, 2010. These values ​​can be read on my face. I'm proud.
You know why I did Ophthalmology? Because I'm allergic to the sight of blood.
         Leaving this head, I tripped over the son electric. Bashar is connected to the center of torture. It was he who, to pass the time, press the pedal that sends shocks to the genitals of the victims. It seems that it amuses and reinforces his determination to rid Syria of two-thirds considered bad.
*Article published by Tahar Ben Jelloun, in Le Monde
on February 18, 2012.

         *Tahar Ben Jelloun was born on December 1, 1944 in Fez, Morocco. After studying at the Koranic school and primary school bilingual French-Moroccan, he followed his parents moved to Tangier in 1955 and spent his primary school certificate.
         In 1956 he attended the Lycée Ibn Al Khatib before joining the French Lycée Regnault where he graduated in 1963. He graduated in Philosophy at the University of Rabat. Following the student protests of March 23, 1965, he was arrested and spent eighteen months in the disciplinary camp in El Hajeb then Ahermenou in Eastern Morocco. Released in January 1968, he resumed his studies. In October 1968 he began a teaching career in high school in Tetouan Charif Idrissi. In October 1970, he was transferred to high school Mohamed V in Casablanca.
         He asks his layoff for teaching and left Morocco to study Psychology in France September 11, 1971. He began his writing career as a columnist in Le Journal de Tanger (1962) before publishing articles in several newspapers and magazines French, Spanish, Italian, German, Swiss, English. He received a Ph.D. in Social Psychiatry.
         His doctoral thesis deals with the sexual misery of North African workers in Paris. In his thesis, it will pull the latest two successful tests " La réclusion solitaire (The solitary confinement)" and  "Le Racisme expliqué à ma fille (Racism Explained to My Daughter) ". He founded in Morocco (with Melehi and Nissaboury) the magazine "Integral". He works with several magazines and newspapers including "Le Monde".
         Winner of the Prix Goncourt for his novel "La Nuit sacrée (The Sacred Night)" in 1987, is among the most important contemporary French Moroccan writers. He is a member of the High Council of Francophonie. He is a member of the Académie Goncourt since 2008. He is the author of poems, novels, stories, short stories and plays.

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