Beirut
How Sectarianism Blinds the Shia to the Horrors of Syria
What, Me Sad?
In 1975 I left the burning city of Beirut for the quiet insanity of England. To say that short, frail and wispy, 15-year-old me didn’t fit in would be such an understatement as to be a joke. I stuck out more in an English public school than I would have had I marched in a May Day parade with the Red Army in Moscow, or sashayed the Yves St Laurent catwalk with supermodels, or hunted seals with the Inuit, or—well, you get the idea. READ MORE >>
Greek Tragedies
I watched most of the Greece Russia without much attachment. I had no dog in this fight, not even a flea. I’m an Arsenal fan and couldn’t even sustain enough animosity toward Arshavin. I didn’t really blame him. He hadn’t shown any inclination to cover an opposing player or tackle anyone since 2008, maybe 2007, so it was my fault that I kept expecting him to. He had cost us many a game but it was Wenger’s fault that he kept faith with the Russian. One of these days, an epiphany and Arshavin would track back. Nope. Never happened. READ MORE >>
The Wisdom of My 9 Year Old Nephew
My nephew is obviously a football expert and I’m thinking he knows as much as anyone on ESPN. He should be hired even though he is in Beirut. I asked him whether Holland will win its first game, he said, “Robben is selfish.” I asked him whether Spain will win the tournament, he showed me his upper arm. READ MORE >>
Obama’s ‘Hawkish’ Foreign Policy? If Only It Were So.
The Man of the Sword: Two Poems by Nizar Qabbani
The Honor of Aleppo
Before 2013 begins, catch up on the best of 2012. From now until the New Year, we will be re-posting some of The New Republic’s most thought-provoking pieces of the year. Enjoy. I. READ MORE >>
One Year Later: The Failure of the Arab Spring
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