On the last day of the year, one is at a loss for words to describe it. It deserves neither commiseration nor farewell. We have gotten tired from words that are uttered to the rhythm of deceptions and from proclaiming our desperation. Both angry words and sad ones are uttered in vain. On such a day I feel sorrow. If only I could write an optimistic article. If only I were sure that the year getting ready to pounce on us will be a better one; that what the pessimists say is not true about the fact that despite all its woes, the ending year is always better than the incoming one for Arabs; that behind every abyss, an even worse one awaits – and underneath every bottom we reach there is a harsher one. On the last day of the year, I feel like apologizing from the readers. My conscience torments me when I review what we published throughout the year. We have sought so long a gladdening news item, but in vain. Every time we looked for a window, we were faced by a wall; every time we bet on a ray of light, it turned out to be a fake one. How I would've liked to say to the readers words to make them happy, like tell them that a sudden awakening will take the Arab world by storm, and that we will find ourselves amidst a civilized Arabism… An Arabism that embraces all its constituents, and prevent our nations from being like a boiling cauldron… An Arabism that would eliminate the sectarian demarcation lines that divide our cities, villages, and nations; an Arabism that would eliminate the deep fear that cripples majorities and minorities alike. It is the fear from being different; from the right to be different; from the absence of a unified uniform, song, or poem. How I would've liked to write that illiteracy will regress; that unemployment rates will decrease; that our schools will cease to adopt the curricula that bridle minds and imaginations and turn Arabs into corpses, bombs, or wasted lives; that the universities will generate other Arabs – those who are involved in the progress of humanity, not those who feel that progress is exclusively reserved for others; that anything new would threaten their stability and identity; that their clash with the others is inexorable; and that their fate is to live in ruins or perform a suicide operation. My dear readers, I will not list for you all the crises – as we have exhausted you with them throughout the year. The story is well-known: countries that tremble before the internal and external storms; lack of institutions; services that have regressed. Our capitals used to be better and more welcoming. Our libraries used to be open to the future. We used to hear in our long nights a voice that promised different days. An attractive idea, which attempted to be a bridge, used to make its appearance. Today, we find nothing but dark voices that herald nothing but funerals; ones that enshrine our existence in the past, in isolation, gloominess and retardation. Such voices are obsessed with destroying bridges. We are suffocating. This is the truth, in no uncertain terms. Our ability to commit carnages exceeds our ability to commit questions. Our ability to be belligerent and commit suicide exceeds our ability to reconcile, interact, and compete. Our ability to surrender to clowns exceeds our ability to reflect, be rational, and choose. Our ability to embrace caves exceeds our ability to open horizons. We are suffocating. Where is the welcoming Arabism; the Arabism of joint interests and common fate; the Arabism that takes us to modernity, competition, and participation in building a bright future for mankind? Where are the universities, research centers, scientists, and the right to take part in making the future? Where are the women who fully assume their role, where are the books that awaken and the press that is trusted by the public opinion? Where are the scientific achievements, the great novels, the unique poems, and the captivating paintings? Where is the river of life of the countries that insist to live? We are suffocating in the Arab district of the global village. We need a flicker of hope, an idea, a light... We are suffocating in this vast darkness. It is why we welcome the coming year with nothing but fear and confusion. And why we bid farewell to the year that is dripping its last drops of blood with nothing but a saying: it has ended, so let it just leave.
