I feel like I’m supposed to write a kaddish for Qaddafi. And I’m having a lot of trouble doing so. What I want to do is defend him somehow. Say that he’s been maligned for decades. Tell you about the jokes Tunisians (Libya’s neighbors to the west) used to tell about Qaddafi, all the way […]
Col. Muammar el-Qaddafi died today. Arab Autumn?
My business trip to Paris continued, and fortunately Mira bailed me out for a night by doing this recitation of the Muslim prayer “El Shehadah” and the Jewish Mourner’s prayer “Kaddish.”
NATO airstrikes killed Qaddafi’s son and three grandchildren on Saturday night. I find the rebels’ stance (stances—let’s be realistic) compelling, but it’s not clear to me that Qaddafi’s dictatorship is the worst thing Libya has known.
What is clear to me is that there’s an awful lot of dying going on, and I don’t hear any music in that.
On Erev Pesach, a Kaddish for those who don’t escape bondage—for those who have died in bondage, recently and throughout history, and especially for those who have died in the recent uprisings in Egypt, Yemen, Libya, Tunisia…
When even a Middle East expert chains them all together like that, it’s no wonder I feel overwhelmed, and my problem is embarrassingly trivial next to the problems of all those people who are trying to live through all this. And then there are all those people who are not living through all this—who are dying in all this.
A Kaddish for all of them.