Despite popular impressions, little has changed in the Big Apple, writes Hassan Nafaa* I saw New York for the first time in 1976. Since then with every visit I grow more convinced that this city, seat of the UN, bears all the contradictions of the US system and its society. I visited the US several times since the September 2001, but had no time to go to New York, and felt bad about it. When I received an invitation to take part in a panel discussion in New York, held at the UN headquarters, I made a point of going. The invitation came from the Swedish Institute in Alexandria and the Swedish UN mission, and the occasion was the launch of the Arabic edition of the yearbook of the Stockholm International Peace Research Institute (SIPRI). As the plane descends into JFK airport I see the famous Manhattan skyline, shorn of the familiar twin towers of the World Trade Centre. The city appears to me like a wounded giant. While proceeding to the immigration line, I feel uneasy. I expect to go through long and complicated, perhaps even humiliating, procedures before being admitted into the injured city. I recall what happened on my recent visit to Washington, when immigration officials counted every banknote I had, inspected my laptop, and interviewed me at length about the Arabic books that were in my briefcase. My worries were unjustified. The immigration officials let me pass within minutes and the electronic fingerprinting takes seconds and doesn't seem excessive or insulting. The customs officials don't inspect my luggage, inquiring only about my business and waving me through. Suddenly, New York seems welcoming, friendly. On my way to the hotel, I can't resist a feeling of admiration for a system that may shudder in a moment of fear, perhaps even commit serious errors, but is vigorous enough to correct itself and emerge from the crisis stronger and more confident. In the hotel room, I switch on the television, looking for signs of the country's agenda, for indications of its mood. As I flip through the channels the picture unfolds of a society apparently open and transparent to a fault. All topics are invitations to discussion, to examination and careful scrutiny, from private relations to politics and elections, to key social issues such as unemployment, health care and education. Behind this mountain of information, the Iraqi issue rears its head from afar, trying to grab a place at the top of a busy schedule. Bob Woodward's new book, Plan of Attack, provides such an opportunity. I arrive on 25 April and it seems like Woodward's day. The celebrated journalist is a guest on dozens of programmes on all major channels. To be fair, Woodward's book is not the only window through which the Iraqi issue enters into the public domain. There are other reasons for Iraq to be in the news: the scenes of returning coffins, the crises in Falluja and Najaf, the activities of the committee investigating the 11 September events (the investigation increasingly suggests that Bush's obsession with Iraq led to a lapse in the fight against terror). What catches my attention is that invisible hands are trying desperately to keep the Iraqi question separate from the elections campaign. Several former and current US officials, Democrats as well as Republicans, say that they don't wish the Iraqi issue to become a matter for "electioneering", on the pretext that soldiers fighting under the country's flag need reassurance. The argument seems both bizarre and suspicious. If American citizens have no right to question the reason their army is fighting in Iraq, if they have no right to ask in whose interest the documents concerning weapons of mass destruction programmes in Iraq were forged, then what democratic rights do they have left? Walking around the city, images of the New York I know from old keep dancing in my mind. At least in appearance, the city is as it always was: young, lively, and harbouring all the contradictions of extreme wealth and poverty, beauty and ugliness, order and chaos. Some of the city's neighbourhoods still teem over with crime, prostitution, drugs and violence, while others thrive in peace and style. Police presence, particularly at entrances to major hotels and public areas, is more visible than before. Aside from that, the city looks as it always did. The panel discussion is attended by a number of Arab diplomats, including Ambassador Ahmed Abul-Gheit, Egypt's UN envoy. When my turn to speak arrives I focus on two points. First, the significance of publishing SIPRI's yearbook in Arabic. Second, the situation in the Middle East. Concerning the yearbook, I point out that it has long been regarded an indispensable reference to specialists and diplomats. I underline that Swedish diplomacy has gained much credibility through its tireless efforts for world peace. The Arab world still remembers men such as Count Bernadotte, assassinated in Palestine in the late 1940s, and Dag Hammarskjold, who played a crucial role during the Suez crisis in the mid 1950s and paid with his life for the neutrality and fairness he brought to his post as UN secretary-general. As for the Middle East, I mention that events in Palestine and Iraq may lead to a wide-scale escalation in the region, which could jeopardise world peace and security. The absence of an effective UN role, I argue, has made things worse. In Palestine, Israel and the US insisted on excluding the UN from the peace process from the start. In Iraq, the US went to war despite serious UN reservations. The Middle East is not going to find peace and stability, I note, unless the UN restores its vitality and plays an effective part in settling the region's problems in accordance with international law and customs. The UN must substantively reform. It needs to move from the discredited concept of "collective security" to one of "global security". I end urging SIPRI experts to initiate dialogue with corresponding Arab institutes on "global security" and UN reform. In the corridors of the UN there is an overwhelming feeling that the US is trying to hijack UN decision- making. This feeling is not confined to Arabs or the Third World. Western diplomats, of whom I met a few, share this feeling. But the situation is not hopeless yet. Although everyone agrees that the US wants turn the UN into a subsidiary of the State Department, many feel that things won't proceed this way. Sooner or later, the US will be compelled to recognise the importance of collective efforts within the UN. This optimism is not unjustified. Listening to Lakhdar Brahimi addressing the UN Security Council about his recent mission to Iraq, I come out with the impression that the veteran diplomat is aware that the US needs him as much as he needs it. The US is trying to use him for its own ends. Brahimi, in turn, is trying to coax the US closer to the UN agenda. The game is still in play. As I got ready to return home, news surface concerning the torture of Iraqi prisoners. An ugly aspect of America suddenly looms over the Manhattan skyline as the latter retreats through the window of my homebound plane. Will America or that city ever really glow again? * The writer is professor of political science at Cairo University.
