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I DREAMED I SAW I WAS UP IN THE AIR - WITH THE PM
Hurriyet
Nov 25 2010
Turkey
An elderly Cretan once warned me: mixing ouzo, homemade rakı and
wine can be dangerous unless you are on 'the island - Crete.' Bad
dreams may chase you in your sleep. He was right.
After having mixed three fine ouzo brands from Mytilini, mysterious
rakı from 'the island' and Zinfandel, I dreamed I was on an 'embedded'
flight with the prime minister, en route to Beirut on invitation from
His Excellency.
As absurd as any dream may be, I saw the PM in a sultan's outfit in a
special chamber near the flight deck aboard the splendid jet. At the
rear compartment were us, a handful of cherry-picked journalists known
for their critical opinion of the government, or just journalists. For
some unknown reason - blame it on the bad dream - we were wearing our
parachutes during the flight as if we were commandos on an airborne
mission. But the service was fabulously halal: alcohol-free zinfandel
and pork-free pork chops.
Soon after we took off, someone who introduced himself as Paul Joseph
Goebbels came into our chamber and told us "now you can come in but
keep your parachutes on and try not to be pushed out." Then we went to
the majestic chamber where the PM greeted us very warmly and shouted
at the crew to turn on the air conditioner. He said that: "The first
thing the Americans built in Lebanon was a casino. The first thing
we built there was an arsenal... err, I mean for ship-building..." We
applauded him. We had suddenly transformed into grateful human beings,
finally understanding the PM's wisdom.
The PM heralded to us that his government had decided to intermediate
between the two Koreas after the nasty exchange of shooting the
previous day. We were in tears as we were witnessing a historic moment
which meant the end of 57-year-old hostilities on a remote corner
of the world - thanks to Turkish generosity. Two colleagues fainted
with joy after the PM told us that he would also mediate between two
feuding tribes in Vanuatu.
Once we landed in Beirut we were greeted with sunshine and cheerful
Lebanese protocol officials one of whom told me I could not enter
Lebanon because my passport carried a stamp showing a 2006 entry into
Israel. After lengthy negotiations, one of the PM's advisors convinced
the Lebanese protocol that the stamp on my passport could be ignored
since such a country did not or will not in the future exist. The
passport police winked at the advisor for the tip his superiors had
not thought of before. Finally, I was in Beirut!
The PM went to his meetings, and that gave us journalists free time to
stroll down the beautiful, peaceful streets and interview the locals.
A sign on a new building with state-of-the-art architecture read:
AKP Provincial Headquarters - Beirut. A long queue in front of the
building consisted of Lebanese who wanted to enroll as party members.
But to get a more neutral opinion I walked to the Christian quarter,
popped into a bar and joined the locals with their fine arak.
Oddly, the patrons were a mix of Hamas and Hezbollah members drinking
on oath to the demise of a country whose stamp was still on my
passport. Silently, I slipped out the back door.
But I wanted to interview the locals. A Muslim Lebanese rejected the
idea that the PM was the leader of the Muslim world. "No, he is not,"
he told this journalist. "He is the President of the World, not just
the Muslim world." In another interview, a spokesman for the Armenian
community of Beirut echoed a similar view: "Never mind the protests.
They are the Armenians brought to the square at gunpoint. We Lebanese
Armenians are in love with your PM. He is the greatest ever statesman,
an astute leader, a man of peace."
The PM was probably the only world leader who could walk about the
streets of Beirut without bodyguards. At every corner, he greeted the
locals and, in return, love in its most natural form poured from the
crowds - glittering eyes, smiling faces and swastikas. Once again,
we were in tears. At one corner, the PM pointed to a dog and said:
"Nice cat." One colleague was puzzled, but we were able to silence
him before he said "but it's a d..."
At a public rally, the PM said that: "We shall call a murderer a
murderer." Crowds applauded him. A colleague was curious if the
PM was going to talk about the U.N. Tribunal's findings linking
the assassination of former Lebanese Prime Minister Rafic Hariri to
Hezbollah. Before we could silence the colleague, the PM's bodyguards
dragged him into a police car. Later we learned that he would stand
trial for insulting the PM. Poor chap. He could have got only 15
decent months in jail if he committed that offence in Turkey but
given Lebanon's poor democratic credentials... one never knows...
Thanks to this embedded trip I realized how fortunate we Turks were for
having a PM like him. All outside observers (neutral ones) would agree
that the PM is a reasoned, balanced, reliable and handsome statesman
with extraordinary skills he tirelessly uses for world peace and
humanity. When you spend time with him you realize that he is modest,
self-confident, practical yet principled, fair and tolerant and more
(some native speaker should launch a website for positive adjectives
for statesmen for non-native journalists to borrow...)
As a former imam he knows the world and understands global issues. He
is an extraordinary leader who has won the respect and love of even
the Franks. His jewel statement that "the NATO missile shield should
be commanded by NATO" will always be a memorable page in the history
of the alliance.
All the same I have two concerns. First, I cannot decide who is the
best ever Turkish leader, the PM, or Mehmet the Conqueror. Second,
it torments me to know that the PM won't be our leader in the 22nd
century.
PS: All compliments are more than welcome as this journalist,
albeit slowly, is learning what real journalism is. In dreams today;
hopefully, in reality tomorrow.
From: A. Papazian
Hurriyet
Nov 25 2010
Turkey
An elderly Cretan once warned me: mixing ouzo, homemade rakı and
wine can be dangerous unless you are on 'the island - Crete.' Bad
dreams may chase you in your sleep. He was right.
After having mixed three fine ouzo brands from Mytilini, mysterious
rakı from 'the island' and Zinfandel, I dreamed I was on an 'embedded'
flight with the prime minister, en route to Beirut on invitation from
His Excellency.
As absurd as any dream may be, I saw the PM in a sultan's outfit in a
special chamber near the flight deck aboard the splendid jet. At the
rear compartment were us, a handful of cherry-picked journalists known
for their critical opinion of the government, or just journalists. For
some unknown reason - blame it on the bad dream - we were wearing our
parachutes during the flight as if we were commandos on an airborne
mission. But the service was fabulously halal: alcohol-free zinfandel
and pork-free pork chops.
Soon after we took off, someone who introduced himself as Paul Joseph
Goebbels came into our chamber and told us "now you can come in but
keep your parachutes on and try not to be pushed out." Then we went to
the majestic chamber where the PM greeted us very warmly and shouted
at the crew to turn on the air conditioner. He said that: "The first
thing the Americans built in Lebanon was a casino. The first thing
we built there was an arsenal... err, I mean for ship-building..." We
applauded him. We had suddenly transformed into grateful human beings,
finally understanding the PM's wisdom.
The PM heralded to us that his government had decided to intermediate
between the two Koreas after the nasty exchange of shooting the
previous day. We were in tears as we were witnessing a historic moment
which meant the end of 57-year-old hostilities on a remote corner
of the world - thanks to Turkish generosity. Two colleagues fainted
with joy after the PM told us that he would also mediate between two
feuding tribes in Vanuatu.
Once we landed in Beirut we were greeted with sunshine and cheerful
Lebanese protocol officials one of whom told me I could not enter
Lebanon because my passport carried a stamp showing a 2006 entry into
Israel. After lengthy negotiations, one of the PM's advisors convinced
the Lebanese protocol that the stamp on my passport could be ignored
since such a country did not or will not in the future exist. The
passport police winked at the advisor for the tip his superiors had
not thought of before. Finally, I was in Beirut!
The PM went to his meetings, and that gave us journalists free time to
stroll down the beautiful, peaceful streets and interview the locals.
A sign on a new building with state-of-the-art architecture read:
AKP Provincial Headquarters - Beirut. A long queue in front of the
building consisted of Lebanese who wanted to enroll as party members.
But to get a more neutral opinion I walked to the Christian quarter,
popped into a bar and joined the locals with their fine arak.
Oddly, the patrons were a mix of Hamas and Hezbollah members drinking
on oath to the demise of a country whose stamp was still on my
passport. Silently, I slipped out the back door.
But I wanted to interview the locals. A Muslim Lebanese rejected the
idea that the PM was the leader of the Muslim world. "No, he is not,"
he told this journalist. "He is the President of the World, not just
the Muslim world." In another interview, a spokesman for the Armenian
community of Beirut echoed a similar view: "Never mind the protests.
They are the Armenians brought to the square at gunpoint. We Lebanese
Armenians are in love with your PM. He is the greatest ever statesman,
an astute leader, a man of peace."
The PM was probably the only world leader who could walk about the
streets of Beirut without bodyguards. At every corner, he greeted the
locals and, in return, love in its most natural form poured from the
crowds - glittering eyes, smiling faces and swastikas. Once again,
we were in tears. At one corner, the PM pointed to a dog and said:
"Nice cat." One colleague was puzzled, but we were able to silence
him before he said "but it's a d..."
At a public rally, the PM said that: "We shall call a murderer a
murderer." Crowds applauded him. A colleague was curious if the
PM was going to talk about the U.N. Tribunal's findings linking
the assassination of former Lebanese Prime Minister Rafic Hariri to
Hezbollah. Before we could silence the colleague, the PM's bodyguards
dragged him into a police car. Later we learned that he would stand
trial for insulting the PM. Poor chap. He could have got only 15
decent months in jail if he committed that offence in Turkey but
given Lebanon's poor democratic credentials... one never knows...
Thanks to this embedded trip I realized how fortunate we Turks were for
having a PM like him. All outside observers (neutral ones) would agree
that the PM is a reasoned, balanced, reliable and handsome statesman
with extraordinary skills he tirelessly uses for world peace and
humanity. When you spend time with him you realize that he is modest,
self-confident, practical yet principled, fair and tolerant and more
(some native speaker should launch a website for positive adjectives
for statesmen for non-native journalists to borrow...)
As a former imam he knows the world and understands global issues. He
is an extraordinary leader who has won the respect and love of even
the Franks. His jewel statement that "the NATO missile shield should
be commanded by NATO" will always be a memorable page in the history
of the alliance.
All the same I have two concerns. First, I cannot decide who is the
best ever Turkish leader, the PM, or Mehmet the Conqueror. Second,
it torments me to know that the PM won't be our leader in the 22nd
century.
PS: All compliments are more than welcome as this journalist,
albeit slowly, is learning what real journalism is. In dreams today;
hopefully, in reality tomorrow.
From: A. Papazian