The Moon was in deep solitude. It was far away and probably happy. It did not pay much attention to our crazy drifting planet. Neither had poems reached it nor had the lovers' tears crept into its days. It had never occurred to the Moon that a stranger would soon knock on the door, or enter without permission. That stranger would soon disembark in pride, strolling on its surface with his mate. Nor did the Moon ever think that the stranger would unravel its cloak to eavesdrop on its secrets, and send from whence images that delighted the world and those who had sent him. It did not expect that the fancies of Earth's scientists would have so much courage and ambition, taming the distances and solving the riddles of the unknown. They had tricked it, and the mind's conquests knew henceforth no limits. Knowledge expanded and exploded and revolutions ensued in the world's laboratories. It was a strange and amazing sight indeed. Many fled it to skepticism and denial. But those who were glued in front of their television screens saw and heard. They saw Neil Armstrong walk on the surface of the dreamy Moon, and they heard him say, “That's one small step for a man, one giant leap for mankind". That day in July of 1969 was a milestone in a century blighted by two world wars and too many horrors. The United States bowed before the astronaut who passed away on Saturday. Barack Obama said, “Today, Neil's spirit of discovery lives on in all the men and women who have devoted their lives to exploring the unknown - including those who are ensuring that we reach higher and go further in space. That legacy will endure - sparked by a man who taught us the enormous power of one small step." Likewise, the Republican candidate Mitt Romney said, “The moon will miss its first son of earth." But where were we that year, when the first man walked on the Moon? Arabs remember it very well. The Arab world was still reeling from the bitterness of its defeat in June 1967, despite its attempt to hide it by calling it a setback. Gamal Abdel Nasser was fatally wounded by that experience, and would pass away the following year. Jordan was confounded by Palestinian guerilla organizations, and a year later, we would witness Black September. Lebanon was gearing up for the gradual collapse of its state, and would go on to spend a few years in a prelude to the civil war that was in fact a number of proxy wars that opted to erupt on the Lebanese theater instead. In Iraq, the Baath party had returned to power a year earlier, and Mr. Vice President was gathering all strings and cards in his paper, pending the birth of his catastrophic tenure that would go on to drench his country and the whole region in blood. Hafez al-Assad, meanwhile, was monitoring his comrades in the leadership, counting their adventures and mistakes. He was waiting to pounce on them later on in his Corrective Movement, which paved the way for putting the single ruling party in the hands of the barons of the many security services. Today, we can see what is happening as a result of that. A few weeks after Armstrong's trip, we would go on to witness the Fateh of September coup. A young officer called Muammar Gaddafi would make his debut on the Libyan and Arab scene. As usual, collective leadership would end up in the grip of one man, who would then take it upon himself to kill any dissident, and squander the revolution and the wealth, distributing bombs by land, sea and air. It was a tragedy that would last more than four decades, begetting many other tragedies. The developed world continued its scientific breakthroughs, while we dedicated our efforts to tyranny, oppression and the cult of personality, amid a resounding failure in development, healthcare and education. Our schools are ancient caves that are best at producing those wooden speeches praising the ruling party, and those songs that glorify the leader because he invented the country and allowed people to live in it. Our universities are in shambles, our trade unions are dens for intelligence services, and our parties are prisons in disguise. Our armies are but long lines of troops and long arms for the leader to discipline his people, if the people should dare to ask him for bread crumbs or a droplet of liberty. They are all rusty metallic regimes that produce naught but massacres, graves and civil wars. I am not asking the Arabs to have the equivalent of Neil Armstrong and to arrange for a moon landing. I am calling for some dignity for the Arabs, and for them not to be murdered by their national armies. I am calling for clean drinking water for the Arabs, some electricity, bread that is not doctored and universities that do not produce illiterates and fanatics. I am asking for job opportunities for them. And I am asking for the factories churning out widows and orphans to be shut down, and for us to start attempting to catch up with human progress. Decades after watching Armstrong walk on the surface of the Moon, all we see on our screens are mutilated bodies and manufactories of more graves.
