The book includes a quote from Moroccan heavy metal artist Reda Zine: “We play heavy metal because our lives are heavy metal.” The genre’s often harsh lyrics blend well with the cynicism and anger toward society, politics, and the world generally that characterizes much of the Middle East. Whereas in the United States and Britain, heavy metal has been long unmoored from its roots in the economic woes of the 1970′s, in the Middle East it still retains them, and represents not just a form of entertainment frequently criticized by the more conservative establishment, but also a critique of that establishment and the world it governs.

Potential connections between heavy metal and political dissent came through most strongly in the chapter on Egypt, where I learned that Shady and Noor Noor, sons of Egyptian opposition leader Ayman Noor, were both known parts of their country’s heavy metal scene. The “potential” in that sentence is important, however, as in much of the book the artists seemed most interested in protecting their music and expression rather than moving into action beyond the expression. LeVine also frequently sought connections between metalheads and Islamists, with what seemed like little success.

In his conclusion, LeVine illustrates the potential he sees with an account of Istanbul’s Barisha Rock for Peace Festival, a sort of Turkish Woodstock which in 2007 drew around 150,000 fans. His conclusion:

“Luckily, the metal-heads, hip-hoppers, rockers, and punks of the Middle East are no longer alone. They not only have each other; helped by the Internet and an increasing number of international festivals of various sizes, the world is starting to listen to their music and their stories. A real dialogue between cultures and countries is emerging, one that will not be cowed by authoritarian governments, silences by war-crazed administrations, overshadowed by jihadi propagandists, or co-opted by multinational conglomerates. It is being conducted by young people around the world, on their terms, and if they’re lucky, it will be free of the stereotypes, prejudices, and conflicting interests that have doomed their elders’ conversations for generations…

“The fear, the violence, the hatred in the Middle East can seem deafening, but it’s still not loud enough to silence the voices of resistance. A generation after Twisted Sister’s 1984 smash hit, kids across the MENA are screaming, in English, Arabic, Urdu, Farsi, Hebrew, Turkish, and French – online, onstage, and, however tentatively, on the streets – “We’re not gonna take it anymore.” It’s a message that used to resonate with Americans and Europeans. The sooner we rejoin the chorus, the sooner real peace, democracy, and reconciliation will be achieved – not just in the heartlands of the Muslim world, but in the heartlands of the West as well.

You can hear LeVine discussing the book’s topic here.

(Crossposted to my blog)

Related posts:

1. Syrian Opposition
2. Engaging the Muslim World: The Struggle for Islamic Oil
3. Engaging the Muslim World: Muslim Activism, Muslim Radicalism

The chapter’s subtitle comes from Cole’s argument that U.S. energy independence simply isn’t in the cards in the near term, as it can only be sustainably guaranteed by solar power, which cannot reach its potential until problems of cost and storage are resolved. One might quibble here that Cole does not do justice to possible combinations of different energy sources and degrees of independence, but his main point is undeniable: For the foreseeable future, the United States and the rest of the world will depend on fossil fuels for most of their energy, and those fossil fuels will come predominantly from countries with Muslim majorities.

Cole’s book is directed primarily at an American audience, and an audience of the interested general public, at that, so he doesn’t spend much time taking apart the phrase “Islamic oil” which titles the chapter, preferring instead to make his major points simply and effectively before moving on. Cole therefore bypasses the issue of what sense, if any, energy supplied by Kazakhstan and Turkmenistan deserve to be called “Islamic oil” and focuses almost exclusively on the Middle East and Muslim South Asia. One might, however, shake loose the point that by joining OPEC, the Arab Gulf states went against the hopes of Arab nationalists such as Nasser, placing their own national economic interests above the pan-Arab concerns that animated the original “Arab street” whose specter analysts continue to invoke. Oil his not been a barrier to relations between the U.S. and these states, but rather the major bond, with the U.S. guaranteeing the regimes’ stability and independence to safeguard the free flow of oil, and frequently adopting what Americans consider the “moderate” line on foreign affairs to help maintain that alliance and the goodwill of their customer base. In Cole’s brief discussion of sanctions, one might go even further in discussing U.S. aid to Egypt and the economic benefits Egypt and Jordan get under the Qualifying Industrial Zone protocol to highlight the ways in which the U.S. has used economic carrots and sticks to create relations of dependence which are similar to those it has with the oil-producing Gulf states.

Cole’s historical background for the oil industry in the Middle East is important reading, and contextualizes the current tensions over oil prices and profits, as well as highlighting the ways in which the geopolitics of oil has shaped American policy in the Persian Gulf since the British withdrawal in 1971. It does, however, contain an error when he states that, “Kuwait had been part of the Ottoman Empire in the nineteenth century and was administered indirectly through the governor of Basra Province, in what is now Iraq.” When Baghdad governor Midhat Pasha asserted Ottoman claims to northern Arabia in the 1870′s, he did include Kuwait, but the Kuwaiti agreement to call themselves part of the Ottoman Empire depended on the Ottomans never actually doing anything. According to Frederick Anscombe’s The Ottoman Gulf Midhat Pasha’s agreement with Kuwait implied only “patronage and protection.” The Ottomans stationed no officers there, collected no taxes or fees, and did not intervene in local affairs, although Kuwait’s rulers occasionally supported them militarily. The deeper connections were economic, with Kuwaitis owning agricultural land in southern Iraq, which they continued to do deep into the 20th century. Jill Crystal has written of the role this played in the 1938 Majlis Movement, when both Iraq’s King Ghazi and some Kuwaiti merchants were interested in union between Kuwait and Iraq. Altogether, the relationship between Kuwait and the Ottoman Empire, even in the late 1800′s, does not fit that of a modern nation-state, but of a premodern agrarian empire with a tribally organized periphery.

That aside, Cole is right in pointing to the common threats faced by the United States and Muslim oil producers, such as global warming and the potential for resource wars as the demand for fossil fuels may surpass the available supply. These are challenges that can only be addressed by accepting interdependence and working toward commonly beneficial solutions.

Related posts:

1. Engaging the Muslim World: Muslim Activism, Muslim Radicalism
2. Engaging the Muslim World: The Wahhabi Myth
3. Engaging the Muslim World: Iraq and Islam Anxiety