Free Website Hosting

Saturday, June 27, 2009

A Ham Radio Weekend for Talking to the Moon


Jim Wilson/The New York Times

Only about 1,000 ham radio buffs worldwide have the equipment to bounce a signal off the moon.

Published: June 26, 2009

PALO ALTO, Calif. — Dogs bay at it. Lovers swoon under it. And some people like to bounce their voices off it.

Enlarge This Image
Jim Wilson/The New York Times

Michael Cousins, an engineer at SRI International, a non-profit that operates the dish, center, in the control room, with Ham operators Lance Ginner, left, and Jim Klassen.

Jim Wilson/The New York Times

A radio dish at Stanford is powerful enough to bounce signals off the moon, a tricky endeavor.

The first two are easy, but sending a voice signal 239,200 miles to the moon and back is not quite as simple.

On Saturday, amateur radio buffs or “hams,” as they call themselves, will hold a global bounce-fest, using as many giant parabolic antenna radio telescopes as they can borrow around the world.

Not that one needs an excuse to hold a moon-bounce, but this one is being held as a kind of advance celebration of the 40th anniversary next month of the Apollo 11 mission.

Moon-bouncing, also known as Earth-Moon-Earth communications, or E.M.E. requires a higher grade of ham-radio technology than that used for traditional earth-bound communication across parts of the radio spectrum approved by governments for amateur use. Only about 1,000 hams worldwide have stations capable of moon-bouncing.

Skill and luck also help. As the hams say, the moon is a poor sounding board, since it is spinning and has a rough surface that can disrupt signals. The hams’ voices must survive atmospheric interference over the long round-trip journey in a discernible form.

“It’s the equivalent of climbing Mount Everest in amateur radio,” said Joseph H. Taylor Jr., a Nobel Prize winner and retired physics professor from Princeton University who has written software to help radio buffs communicate via weak signals. “It’s possible, but only barely possible.”

Large dishes like those owned by the government and communications companies can solve many of these problems by making it easier to send and receive signals. That’s why the hobbyists have searched out retired or rarely used dishes. So far, operators of about 20 large dishes in the United States, Australia and Europe have agreed to participate in the event.

One of them is located on a hill overlooking Stanford University’s campus, and will serve as the command center for the weekend’s event. Known simply as the Dish, the 150-foot-wide antenna, owned by the federal government, will be outfitted with special equipment and a computerized tracking system to keep a powerful, focused signal on the moon.

A handful of radio enthusiasts have been working on the structure over the last few weeks, huddling inside a central command center below the towering, rusting web of metal. They gathered around whirring communications gear as if it were a campfire and chortled with satisfaction when their “hellos” bounced back from the moon 2.5 seconds later.

There is a point beyond the “because it’s there” challenge.

The hams also hope to inspire young technology buffs. “People think of ham radio as something Grandpa did down in the basement while he smoked and talked to people around the world,” said Pat Barthelow, who has organized the worldwide moon-bounce, called Echoes of Apollo. “I think moon-bounce retains an exoticness and difficulty that can hook some people and bring ham radio into the modern era.”

Creating a homemade radio capable of hitting the moon can require years of tweaking custom components. The setups cost $200 to $2,000.

The United States military began bouncing radio signals off the moon in the 1950s to communicate over long distances when other transmission methods were hampered by atmospheric disruptions. By the mid-1960s, operators at large dishes started building amateur systems capable of moon-bouncing. In 1964, Michael Staal accomplished the feat, linking a setup at Stanford to another one in Australia.

“I got famous very quickly,” said Mr. Staal, who sells antennas to ham radio operators.

Moon-bouncers often hold contests where they must hunt around different frequencies and both send and receive a signal with another station, logging their activities for review. They’re forbidden from communicating with each other via non-lunar means during the contests, and often win a certificate or free subscription to a ham magazine as prizes for making contact with as many others hams as they can.

“It is the thrill of pulling a weak signal out from a long distance that excites the amateur radio folks,” said Jim Klassen, a ham in Reedley, Calif.

Friday, June 26, 2009

Shock and Grief Over Jackson’s Death


Rusty Kennedy/Associated Press

Michael Jackson performed during the Super Bowl XXVII halftime show in 1993 in Pasadena, Calif. More Photos >

Published: June 25, 2009

LOS ANGELES — For his legions of fans, he was the Peter Pan of pop music: the little boy who refused to grow up. But on the verge of another attempted comeback, he is suddenly gone, this time for good.

Michael Jackson, whose quintessentially American tale of celebrity and excess took him from musical boy wonder to global pop superstar to sad figure haunted by lawsuits, paparazzi and failed plastic surgery, was pronounced dead on Thursday afternoon at U.C.L.A. Medical Center after arriving in a coma, a city official said. Mr. Jackson was 50, having spent 40 of those years in the public eye he loved.

The singer was rushed to the hospital, a six-minute drive from the rented Bel-Air home in which he was living, shortly after noon by paramedics for the Los Angeles Fire Department. A hospital spokesman would not confirm reports of cardiac arrest. He was pronounced dead at 2:26 pm.

As with Elvis Presley or the Beatles, it is impossible to calculate the full effect Mr. Jackson had on the world of music. At the height of his career, he was indisputably the biggest star in the world; he has sold more than 750 million albums. Radio stations across the country reacted to his death with marathon sessions of his songs. MTV, which grew successful in part as a result of Mr. Jackson’s groundbreaking videos, reprised its early days as a music channel by showing his biggest hits.

From his days as the youngest brother in the Jackson 5 to his solo career in the 1980s and early 1990s, Mr. Jackson was responsible for a string of hits like “I Want You Back,” “I’ll Be There” “Don’t Stop ‘Til You Get Enough” “Billie Jean” and “Black or White” that exploited his high voice, infectious energy and ear for irresistible hooks.

As a solo performer, Mr. Jackson ushered in the age of pop as a global product — not to mention an age of spectacle and pop culture celebrity. He became more character than singer: his sequined glove, his whitened face, his moonwalk dance move became embedded in the cultural firmament.

His entertainment career hit high-water marks with the release of “Thriller,” from 1982, which has been certified 28 times platinum by the Recording Industry Association of America, and with the “Victory” world tour that reunited him with his brothers in 1984.

But soon afterward, his career started a bizarre disintegration. His darkest moment undoubtedly came in 2003, when he was indicted on child molesting charges. A young cancer patient claimed the singer had befriended him and then groped him at his Neverland estate near Santa Barbara, Calif., but Mr. Jackson was acquitted on all charges.

Reaction to his death started trickling in from the entertainment community late Thursday.

“I am absolutely devastated at this tragic and unexpected news,” the music producer Quincy Jones said in a statement. “I’ve lost my little brother today, and part of my soul has gone with him.”

Berry Gordy, the Motown founder who helped develop the Jackson 5, told CNN that Mr. Jackson, as a boy, “always wanted to be the best, and he was willing to work as hard as it took to be that. And we could all see that he was a winner at that age.

Tommy Mottola, a former head of Sony Music, called Mr. Jackson “the cornerstone to the entire music business.”

“He bridged the gap between rhythm and blues and pop music and made it into a global culture,” said Mr. Mottola, who worked with Mr. Jackson until the singer cut his ties with Sony in 2001.

Impromptu vigils broke out around the world, from Portland, Ore., where fans organized a one-gloved bike ride (“glittery costumes strongly encouraged”) to Hong Kong, where fans gathered with candles and sang his songs.

In Los Angeles, hundreds of fans — some chanting Mr. Jackson’s name, some doing the “Thriller” dance — descended on the hospital and on the hillside house where he was staying.

Jeremy Vargas, 38, hoisted his wife, Erica Renaud, 38, on his shoulders and they danced and bopped to “Man in the Mirror” playing from an onlooker’s iPod connected to external speakers — the boom boxes of Mr. Jackson’s heyday long past their day.

“I am in shock and awe,” said Ms. Renaud, who was visiting from Red Hook, Brooklyn, with her family. “He was like a family member to me.”

Dreams of a Comeback

Mr. Jackson was an object of fascination for the news media since the Jackson 5’s first hit, “I Want You Back,” in 1969. His public image wavered between that of the musical naif, who wanted only to recapture his youth by riding on roller-coasters and having sleepovers with his friends, to the calculated mogul who carefully constructed his persona around his often-baffling public behavior.

Mr. Jackson had been scheduled to perform 50 concerts at the O2 arena in London beginning next month and continuing into 2010. The shows, which quickly sold out, were positioned as a comeback, with the potential to earn him up to $50 million, according to some reports.

But there had also been worry and speculation that Mr. Jackson was not physically ready for such an arduous run of concerts, and his postponement of the first of those shows to July 13 from July 8 fueled new rounds of gossip about his health. Nevertheless, he was rehearsing Wednesday night at the Staples Center in downtown Los Angeles. “The primary reason for the concerts wasn’t so much that he was wanting to generate money as much as it was that he wanted to perform for his kids,” said J. Randy Taraborrelli, whose biography, “Michael Jackson: The Magic and the Madness,” was first published by Citadel in 1991. “They had never seen him perform before.”

Mr. Jackson’s brothers, Jackie, Tito, Jermaine, Marlon and Randy, have all had performing careers, with varying success, since they stopped performing together. (Randy, the youngest, replaced Jermaine when the Jackson 5 left Motown.) His sisters, Rebbie, La Toya and Janet, are also singers, and Janet Jackson has been a major star in her own right for two decades. They all survive him, as do his parents, Joseph and Katherine Jackson, of Las Vegas, and three children: Michael Joseph Jackson Jr., Paris Michael Katherine Jackson, born to Mr. Jackson’s second wife, Deborah Jeanne Rowe, and Prince Michael Jackson II, the son of a surrogate mother. Mr. Jackson was also briefly married to Lisa Marie Presley, the daughter of Elvis Presley.

A spokesman for the Los Angeles Police Department said the department assigned its robbery and homicide division to investigate the death, but the spokesman said that was because of Mr. Jackson’s celebrity.

“Don’t read into anything,” the spokesman told reporters gathered outside the Bel-Air house. He said the coroner had taken possession of the body and would conduct an investigation.

At a news conference at the hospital, Jermaine Jackson spoke to reporters about his brother. “It is believed he suffered cardiac arrest at his home,” he said softly. A personal physician first tried to resuscitate Michael Jackson at his home before paramedics arrived. A team of doctors then tried to resuscitate him for more than an hour, his brother said.

“May our love be with you always,” Jermaine Jackson concluded, his gaze aloft.

In Gary, Ind., hundreds of people descended upon the squat clapboard house were Mr. Jackson spent his earliest years. There were tears, loud wails, and quiet prayers as old neighbors joined hands with people who had driven in from Chicago and other nearby towns to pay their respects.

“Just continue to glorify the man, Lord,” said Ida Boyd-King, a local pastor who led the crowd in prayer. “Let’s give God praise for Michael.”

Shelletta Hinton, 40, drove to Gary from Chicago with her two young children. She said they had met Mr. Jackson in Gary a couple of years ago when he received a key to the city. “We felt like we were close to Michael,” she said. “This is a sad day.”

As dusk set in, mourners lighted candles and placed them on the concrete doorstep. Some left teddy bears and personal notes. Doris Darrington, 77, said she remembered seeing the Jackson 5 so many times around Gary that she got sick of them. But she, too, was feeling hurt by the sudden news of Mr. Jackson’s death.

“He has always been a source of pride for Gary, even though he wasn’t around much,” she said. “The older person, that’s not the Michael we knew. We knew the little bitty boy with the big Afro and the brown skin. That’s how I’ll always remember Michael.”

Michael Joseph Jackson was born in Gary on Aug. 29, 1958. The second youngest of six brothers, he began performing professionally with four of them at the age of 5 in a group that their father, Joe, a steelworker, had organized the previous year. In 1968, the group, originally called the Jackson Brothers, was signed by Motown Records. The Jackson 5 was an instant phenomenon. The group’s first four singles — “I Want You Back,” “ABC,” “The Love You Save” and “I’ll Be There” — all reached No. 1 on the pop charts in 1970, a feat no group had accomplished before. And young Michael was the center of attention: he handled virtually all the lead vocals, danced with energy and finesse, and displayed a degree of showmanship rare in a performer of any age.

In 1971, Mr. Jackson began recording under his own name, while continuing to perform with his brothers. His recording of “Ben,” the title song from a movie about a boy and his homicidal pet rat, was a No. 1 hit in 1972.

The brothers (minus Michael’s older brother Jermaine, who was married to the daughter of Berry Gordy, Motown’s founder and chief executive) left Motown in 1975 and, rechristened the Jacksons, signed to Epic, a unit of CBS Records. Three years later, Michael made his movie debut as the Scarecrow in the screen version of the hit Broadway musical “The Wiz.” But movie stardom proved not to be his destiny.

A Solo Sensation

Music stardom on an unprecedented level, however, was. Mr. Jackson’s first solo album for Epic, “Off the Wall,” released in 1979, yielded four No. 1 singles and sold seven million copies, but it was a mere prologue to what came next. His follow-up, “Thriller,” released in 1982, became the best-selling album of all time and helped usher in the music video age. The video for title track, directed by John Landis, was an elaborate horror-movie pastiche that was more of a mini-movie than a promotional clip.

Seven of the nine tracks on “Thriller” were released as singles and reached the Top 10. The album spent two years on the Billboard album chart and sold an estimated 100 million copies worldwide. It also won eight Grammy Awards.

The choreographer and director Vincent Paterson, who directed Mr. Jackson in several videos, recalled watching him rehearse a dance sequence for four hours in front of a mirror until it felt like second nature.

“That’s how he developed the moonwalk, working on it for days if not weeks until it was organic,” he said. “He took an idea that he had seen some street kids doing and perfected it.”

Mr. Jackson’s next album, “Bad,” released in 1987, sold eight million copies and produced five No. 1 singles and another state-of-the-art video, this one directed by Martin Scorsese. It was a huge hit by almost anyone else’s standards, but an inevitable letdown after “Thriller.”

It was at this point that Mr. Jackson’s bizarre private life began to overshadow his music. He would go on to release several more albums and, from time to time, to stage elaborate concert tours. And he would never be too far from the public eye. But it would never again be his music that kept him there.

Even with the millions Mr. Jackson earned, his eccentric lifestyle took a severe financial toll. In 1988 Mr. Jackson paid about $17 million for a 2,600-acre ranch in Los Olivos, Calif., 125 miles northwest of Los Angeles. Calling it Neverland after the mythical island of Peter Pan, he outfitted the property with amusement-park rides, a zoo and a 50-seat theater, at a cost of $35 million, according to reports, and the ranch became his sanctum.

But Neverland, and Mr. Jackson’s lifestyle, were expensive to maintain. A forensic accountant who testified at Mr. Jackson’s molesting trial in 2005 said Mr. Jackson’s annual budget in 1999 included $7.5 million for personal expenses and $5 million to maintain Neverland. By at least the late 1990s, he began to take out huge loans to support himself and pay debts. In 1998, he took out a loan for $140 million from Bank of America, which two years later was increased to $200 million. Further loans of hundreds of millions followed.

The collateral for the loans was Mr. Jackson’s 50 percent share in Sony/ATV Music Publishing, a portfolio of thousands of songs, including rights to 259 songs by John Lennon and Paul McCartney, considered some of the most valuable properties in music.

In 1985, Mr. Jackson paid $47.5 million for ATV, which included the Beatles songs — a move that estranged him from Mr. McCartney, who had advised him to invest in music rights — and 10 years later, Mr. Jackson sold 50 percent of his interest to Sony for $90 million, creating a joint venture, Sony/ATV. Estimates of the catalog’s value exceed $1 billion.

Last year, Neverland narrowly escaped foreclosure after Mr. Jackson defaulted on $24.5 million he owed on the property. A Los Angeles real estate investment company, Colony Capital L.L.C., bought the note, and put the title for the property into a joint venture with Mr. Jackson.

A Scandal’s Heavy Toll

In many ways, Mr. Jackson never recovered from the child molesting trial, a lurid affair that attracted media from around the world to watch as Mr. Jackson, wearing a different costume each day, appeared in a small courtroom in Santa Maria, Calif., to listen as a parade of witnesses spun a sometimes-incredible tale.

The case ultimately turned on the credibility of Mr. Jackson’s accuser, a 15-year-old cancer survivor who said the defendant had gotten him drunk and molested him several times. The boy’s younger brother testified that he had seen Mr. Jackson groping his brother on two other occasions.

After 14 weeks of such testimony and seven days of deliberations, the jury returned not-guilty verdicts on all 14 counts against Mr. Jackson: four charges of child molesting, one charge of attempted child molesting, one conspiracy charge and eight possible counts of providing alcohol to minors. Conviction could have brought Mr. Jackson 20 years in prison. Instead, he walked away a free man to try to reclaim a career that at the time had already been in decline for years.

After his trial, Mr. Jackson largely left the United States for Bahrain, the island nation in the Persian Gulf, where he was the guest of Sheik Abdullah, a son of the ruler of the country, King Hamad bin Isa al-Khalifa. Mr. Jackson would never return to live at his ranch. Instead he remained in Bahrain, Dubai and Ireland for the next several years, managing his increasingly unstable finances. He remained an avid shopper, however, and was spotted at shopping malls in the black robes and veils traditionally worn by Bahraini women.

Despite the public relations blow of his trial, Mr. Jackson and his ever-changing retinue of managers, lawyers and advisers never stopped plotting his return.

By early this year, Mr. Jackson was living in a $100,000-a-month mansion in Bel-Air, to be closer to “where all the action is” in the entertainment business, his manager at the time, Tohme Tohme, told The Los Angeles Times. He was also preparing for his upcoming London shows.

”He was just so excited about having an opportunity to come back,” said Mr. Paterson, the director and choreographer.

Despite his troubles, the press and the public never abandoned the star. A crowd of paparazzi and onlookers lined the street outside Mr. Jackson’s home as the ambulance took him to the hospital.

Reporting was contributed by John M. Broder from Washington; Randal C. Archibold from Los Angeles; Susan Saulny from Gary, Ind.; and Melena Ryzik, Ben Sisario, Brian Stelter and Peter Keepnews from New York.

Saving a Kashmiri Village After Remaking His Life

Chikar Journal
Video stills by Adam Ellick/The New York Times

Todd Shea, an American, volunteered after the 2005 earthquake that killed 80,000 Pakistanis and then set up a charity hospital.

Published: June 24, 2009

CHIKAR, Pakistan — The lone hospital in this Kashmiri mountain town was on the eve of hosting one of the year’s biggest social gatherings, a health fair for several hundred villagers, and Todd Shea was not happy.

Video still by Adam B. Ellick/The New York Times

Mr. Shea held a baby in the C.D.R.S. hospital in Chikar, Pakistan.

The New York Times

The hospital’s founder, Mr. Shea, an American who resembles a football coach more than a health worker, was outraged because one of the employees had failed to purchase enough hygiene kits — freebies the villagers had come to expect at the fair.

“This is a problem, and there is a solution,” Mr. Shea, strident but good-natured, yelled to a staffer on the phone from the field. “Let’s see how good you are. I know there are kits lurking in the walls. I guarantee you that if I come there, I will find them. You know me!”

Seven hours later, at midnight, the employee returned from a nearby city with a sheepish smile and 100 kits he had managed to round up. Mr. Shea hugged him, “I believe in you,” he said.

If Mr. Shea, 42, had a résumé, it would by his own admission reveal far more experience as a cocaine addict than as a medical professional. But with his take-charge demeanor, he has transformed primary health care here in this mountain town in Kashmir, where government services are mostly invisible.

“Others are more qualified, but I’m the one who’s here,” he said.

Most recently, he has focused on the millions of people who have been uprooted by the army’s campaign against the Taliban, in the northwest.

But it is here that Mr. Shea spends his time and learned years ago that, as far as health care is concerned, every day is a crisis for Pakistanis.

He arrived as a volunteer rescue worker immediately after the 2005 earthquake that killed 80,000 Pakistanis. Overwhelmed by the community’s long-term needs Mr. Shea never left, and in 2006 he set up a nonprofit charity hospital called Comprehensive Disaster Relief Services, or C.D.R.S.

Humanitarian aid flooded the region in the immediate aftermath of the earthquake, but the tide of aid and government support ebbed within months, leaving 25,000 wounded residents without doctors, medical supplies and an actual health outpost. That is, life returned to normal.

In Pakistan, less than one percent of the national budget is devoted to the health of its citizens, and the nation’s health care crisis is especially acute in remote communities. “It’s frustrating and sad that’s the way it is,” Mr. Shea said. “But if I screamed from the mountaintop, it wouldn’t change a thing.”

So he does what he can. His hospital, with 38 employees and nearly $200,000 in financing from Americans and Unicef, highlights not only the needs of Pakistan’s rural health system but also a glaring vulnerability for a government trying to brand itself an alternative to the Taliban.

“The Taliban terrorize people, but they put forth logical arguments about the state’s failures,” said Shandana Khan, the chief operating officer of the Rural Support Program Network.

“It’s very common to see primary health care facilities without doctors, or medicines,” she added. “Doctors don’t want to be posted there. Or they’ll sign up and get paid, but sit in cities and no one monitors them.”

Chikar is only 85 miles from the capital, Islamabad, but it takes six hours up a switchback road to reach the hospital. Here, the government provides only 10 percent of the community’s medicine needs. C.D.R.S. picks up the rest.

Last year Mr. Shea recruited a doctor by doubling his government salary and offering him the only private room in the 20-room hospital, which he rents for $250 a month. Mr. Shea himself sleeps on a mattress in a room he shares with staff members.

“The things you see here are only because of C.D.R.S.,” said the doctor, Rizwan Shabir, 27, who had come from a practice in Muzaffarabad, a city of 300,000. “Frankly, without Todd, there would be no proper medicine, and patients would be dead.”

Still, C.D.R.S. is more makeshift than miracle. On a recent morning, Dr. Shabir treated 140 patients in five hours. Without blood-testing laboratories, he diagnoses common illnesses like hepatitis and tuberculosis through clinical evaluations.

Outside of Chikar, C.D.R.S. supplements 10 other regional government health outposts by paying salaries and purchasing medicines. Over all, it treats about 100,000 patients annually, and 70 percent are women and children.

With the global economic crisis, Mr. Shea says he fears that his group’s $200,000 annual budget may be difficult to raise for 2010. So he has proposed a community insurance program that would require a contribution of 31 cents per person per month, which would net $20,000 a month. He estimates that 65 percent of the town can afford it, and he hopes the government and private donors will pick up the rest.

Mr. Shea is an unlikely person to reform Chikar’s decades of medical neglect. When he was 12, his mother died of a Valium overdose. By 18, he was addicted to crack cocaine.

In 1992, he moved from his native Maryland to Nashville to pursue a music career, he said, and spent the next decade playing in bars and restaurants around the country. At one point, he was forced to sell his own blood plasma for $40 a week to pay the bills.

He moved to New York City in 1998, and had a gig booked at CBGB, the famed music club, on Sept. 12, 2001. As he watched the World Trade Center burn and fall, he said, he promptly emptied his band van and used it over the next week to ferry meals to firefighters at Ground Zero.

He soon became addicted to rescue efforts, and volunteered in Sri Lanka after the 2004 tsunami. It was his first time overseas. After Hurricane Katrina, he said, he volunteered with another rescue organization. Then the earthquake hit Pakistan, and he left for a country he knew nothing about.

Once in Chikar, he met a local M.B.A. student, Afzel Makhdoom, who had just dragged his aunt out from under the rubble of his home. As soon as he could scrape together the money, Mr. Shea hired him.

“I had never met an American before,” said Mr. Makhdoom, now 24. “My first impression was: They just want to kill Muslims; it’s an invasion, and they’ll never go back home. But now we want to keep this American here.”

Iran Stepping Up Effort to Quell Election Protest

Hamed/Demotix Images, via Associated Press

Iranian security forces gathered near the Parliament building on Wednesday in Tehran amid reports of new clashes. More Photos >

Published: June 24, 2009

TEHRAN — Iranian officials stepped up efforts to crush the remaining resistance to a disputed presidential election on Wednesday, as security forces overwhelmed a small group of protesters with brutal beatings, tear gas and gunshots in the air. Intelligence agents shut down an office of a defeated presidential candidate, saying it was a “headquarters for a psychological war.”

Multimedia Enlarge This Image
Office of the Supreme Leader, via Associated Press

This photo released by the official website of the Iranian supreme leader's office shows Iranian supreme leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei during a meeting with Iranian parliamentarians in Tehran on Wednesday. More Photos »

The nation’s leadership cast anyone refusing to accept the results of the race as an enemy of the state. Analysts suggested that the unyielding response showed that Iran’s leaders, backed by the supreme leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, had lost patience and that Iran was now, more than ever, a state guided not by clerics of the revolution but by a powerful military and security apparatus.

President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad has maintained a low profile, but evidence suggests that he has filled security agencies with crucial allies.

“What has been going on since 2005 is the shift of the center of power from the clergy to the Pasdaran,” or the Islamic Revolutionary Guards Corps, said a political analyst with years of experience in Iran who feared retribution if identified. “In a way one could say that Iran is no longer a theocracy, but a government headed by military chiefs.”

Security agents continued to fan out across the country, detaining former government officials, journalists, activists, young people and old, anyone seen as siding with those who reject the conclusion that Mr. Ahmadinejad won a landslide against the leading opposition candidate, Mir Hussein Moussavi.

The official Iranian news agency reported that intelligence and security agents in Tehran concluded that a Moussavi campaign office was used for “illegal gatherings, the promotion of unrest, and efforts to undermine the country’s security,” leading to speculation that Mr. Moussavi could be arrested. The news agency reported that “the plotters have been arrested.”

The government also stepped up its efforts to block independent news coverage of events all across the country. The government banned foreign news media members from leaving their offices, suspended all press credentials for the foreign press, arrested a freelance writer for The Washington Times, continued to hold a reporter for Newsweek and forced other foreign journalists to leave the country.

That made it difficult to ascertain exactly what happened when several hundred protesters tried to gather outside the Parliament building late in the afternoon. Witnesses said they were met by a huge force of riot police officers and Basij vigilantes, some on motorcycles and some in pickup trucks, armed with sticks and chains. Witnesses said people were trapped and beaten as they tried to flee down side streets.

“It was not possible to wait and see what happened,” said one witness who asked for anonymity out of fear of arrest. “At one point we saw several riot police in black clothes walk towards a group of people who looked like passers-by. Suddenly they pulled out their batons and began hitting them without warning.”

Witnesses reported scenes of chaos and fear where riot police officers outnumbered demonstrators by about four to one. Many wore masks to conceal their identities. The Basijis stopped people to check their cellphones for video or pictures of the unrest.

“I saw one group of about 100 people who began chanting ‘Death to the dictator’ on one of the side streets,” said another witness who insisted on not being identified for fear of arrest. “The Basijis attacked them and beat them really bad.” Unconfirmed reports of bloodshed and at least one death flooded the Internet.

The authorities said they were moving to impose order and secure the rule of law. “I was insisting and will insist on implementation of the law,” Ayatollah Khamenei said on national television. “That means we will not go one step beyond the law. Neither the system nor the people will yield to pressure at any price.”

The pressure exposed deep cracks in the opposition, but also sparked signs of entrenched resistance. Early in the day, Mohsen Rezai, a former head of the elite Revolutionary Guards and a presidential candidate, withdrew his charges of election fraud, saying that it was in the best interest of the country to drop the matter. His decision helped the government’s effort to cast the opposition as at war with the state.

Then Mr. Moussavi, the defeated candidate who embodied the hopes of reformers, posted a notice on his Web site of a late afternoon rally in front of the Parliament, but he distanced himself from the action, saying it was not organized by the reform movement. It is not clear how far Mr. Moussavi, a former prime minister who is essentially an insider thrust into the role of opposition, would go to defy the system. He has not been seen since Thursday. So as the crackdown infuriates protesters, there is a greater gap with their ostensible leader, political analysts said.

“People in the street have been radicalized, and I do not believe that most of them would today subscribe to Moussavi’s avowed platform,” said a political analyst with years of experience in Iran.

Instead, Mr. Moussavi’s wife, Zahra Rahnavard, a former university dean, continued to rally the opposition movement. She posted a message on another Web site associated with her husband calling on the public to stand firm while criticizing the government for acting “as if martial law has been imposed on the streets.”

The head of Iran’s intelligence service announced that would-be terrorists, including two foreign reporters, were detained all over the country planning explosions and acts of sabotage, the official Iran news agency reported.

Iran’s defense minister, Brig. Gen. Mostafa Mohammad Najjar, pointed to recent military maneuvers in the Persian Gulf as proof that Iran could crush any foreign threat. The government’s harsh response, including the killing of at least 17 protesters, led to divisions among some conservatives who criticized the armed attacks on unarmed civilians. The mayor of Tehran, Mohammad Baqer Qalibaf, a former commander of the Iranian police, called on the government to authorize peaceful opposition rallies. And the speaker of Parliament, Ali Larijani, a longtime conservative, accused the Guardian Council, responsible for monitoring the elections, of bias and said most Iranians were suspicious of the election results.

Instead of heeding calls for moderation, the government has conducted one of the harshest crackdowns in its history. Dozens of former high-ranking officials have been jailed. The International Campaign for Human Rights in Iran reported Wednesday that about 240 people, including 102 political figures, were in jail. The government has said that it arrested 627 more people since the protests broke out.

Those arrested include officials who served from the founding of the Islamic republic in 1979, until Mr. Ahmadinejad’s election in 2005: Behzad Nabavi, a former deputy speaker of Parliament; Mohsen Aminzadeh, a key figure at the Intelligence Ministry for many years; Mostafa Tajzadeh, a deputy interior minister during the presidency of Mohammad Khatami; Mohammad Ali Abtahi, a vice president under Mr. Khatami; and Abdullah Ramezanzadeh, Mr. Khatami’s spokesman. They were all close to Mr. Khatami, then threw their support behind Mr. Moussavi.

Nazila Fathi reported from Tehran, and Michael Slackman from Cairo. Mona el-Naggar contributed reporting from Cairo, Alan Cowell from London, and Sharon Otterman from New York.

Burqa Politics in France



What happens when feminism and sexual liberation become tools for nationalism?


| web only



Burqa Politics in France

Photo used under Creative Commons license, courtesy of Flickr user superblinkymac.



On Monday, Nicolas Sarkozy became the first French president since Charles Louis-Napoleon Bonaparte to address the Parliament, thanks to recent reforms that scrapped a 19th-century law meant to protect the independence of the legislature. Given the occasion, it was rather odd that Sarkozy's strongest words were reserved for denouncing a garment that hardly any women in France wear. The burqa, he said, "is a sign of the subjugation, of the submission, of women." It is, he added, "not welcome in France." Headscarves have been banned in French schools since 2004. Now Sarkozy wants to go much further, banning burqas, loose, full-body veils that cover women entirely, as well as niqabs, or face veils, from being worn anywhere in public.

This was partly a rebuke to Obama, who outraged the French with parts of his Cairo speech. When Obama said that he rejects "the view of some in the West that a woman who chooses to cover her hair is somehow less equal," many people in France heard a shot at the country's republican laïcité, which demands that faith be wholly relegated to the private sphere. "There was a "great outcry and a sense of being gravely insulted," says Joan Scott, a historian at the Institute for Advanced Study in Princeton, New Jersey, and author of the 2007 book The Politics of the Veil. "I think you can't read Sarkozy's words as anything but a response to that."

Perhaps more important than the anger itself was the opportunity it created, giving Sarkozy a chance to reach out to the anti-immigrant French right without offending the left. The clothing of Muslim women has long been a contentious political issue in France, as well as in several other European countries. The debate about headscarves, veils and burqas is a synecdoche for larger, more fraught questions of cultural identity in the age of mass Muslim immigration. Islam is changing European life in a way that makes many Europeans unhappy, but it's hard for Europeans to talk about without seeming racist or xenophobic. The one place where Europeans do feel confident about defending the superiority of their own culture is in sexual matters. Feminism and sexual liberation become tools of nationalism.

We saw this most clearly with Pim Fortuyn, the flamboyant, anti-immigrant politician who nearly became prime minister of the Netherlands before his 2002 assassination. Fortuyn crusaded against the threat he claimed Muslim immigrants posed to the famously tolerant Dutch culture. He spoke of men suddenly being afraid to hold hands in the streets, of teachers reluctant to admit their homosexuality to immigrant students. "I have no desire," he told a reporter, "to have to go through the emancipation of women and homosexuals all over again."

There was something to his critique. Conservatives have long pointed out -- and liberals have long largely ignored -- that there are real contradictions between liberalism and multiculturalism. Christopher Caldwell, easily the smartest of right-leaning journalists, has a provocative new book coming out next month called Reflections On the Revolution In Europe: Immigration, Islam, and The West. In it, he argues that Islam "has broken -- or require adjustments to, or rearguard defenses of -- a good many of the European customs, received ideas, and state structures with which it has come into contact."

Some of these accommodations are small -- sex-segregated hours at public swimming pools, for example, or businesses that scrap after-work drinks so as to avoid offending Muslim employees. Some are larger. In Sweden, for example, Caldwell points out that a Cabinet minister has "proposed national genital examinations of [all] small girls" in order to combat female genital mutilation without singling out African immigrants. Britain's Department of Work and Pensions has started giving some benefits to additional wives in polygamous marriages. A French judge annulled the marriage of a Muslim couple on the grounds that the woman had lied about her virginity and thus essentially mooted the contract she had made with her husband.

Anti-immigrant politicians can easily take advantage of unspoken but often seething tensions created by the clash between a secular majority and a faithful minority. The burqa becomes a symbol of a broader threat to European civilization. Right-wing Dutch MP Geert Wilders tried to ban the burqa in 2006, calling it "a medieval symbol, a symbol against women." (The next year, he called for a ban on the Koran, the "Islamic Mein Kampf.") Several cities in Belgium ban burqas and niqabs, and women have been fined for wearing them.

"Sarkozy's whole thing has been to capture votes from the National Front, the far-right French party," Scott says. "Anti-immigrant politics is a huge part of that. Sarkozy has taken this position all along that he is the champion of Frenchness. It plays well politically for him to find issues where he can declare himself the protector of French national identity."

A ban on burqas would, of course, be unthinkable in the American context, because our understanding of church state separation, and of free speech, is quite different than the one prevailing in France. "Here in America, the separation of church and state is about the protection of religion from the state," Scott says. "In France, the idea is to protect individuals from the claims of religion. The state can intervene on behalf of individuals when they are thought to be oppressed by some communal group."

Yet such state interventions can end up working against individual women. Last year, for example, a Moroccan woman married to a French man was denied French citizenship because she wore a burqa at her husband's request. The ruling declared her "radical practice of her religion (and) behavior in society incompatible with the essential values of the French community, notably the principle of equality between the sexes." According to the scholar Cécile Laborde, political parties, intellectuals, and journalists praised the decision almost unanimously.

Likewise, Sarkozy's prospective burqa ban has significant feminist support, including the backing of the feminist group Ni Putes Ni Soumises, or Neither Whores Nor Doormats, which has its roots in France's Muslim ghettos. It's worth taking the position of Ni Putes Ni Soumises seriously, since the struggle against Islamic fundamentalism has been, for them, a matter of life and death. Like the Somali-Dutch feminist Ayaan Hirsi Ali, their activism serves as a crucial corrective to multicultural pieties.

Ultimately, though, there's no evidence that most burqa-clad French women regard themselves as oppressed. "There are women who wear burqas who are not being forced by anyone, who think that form of modesty is appropriate for who they want to be in the world," says Scott. "It's hard to distinguish between them and those who are being forced." And so in the end, a ban putatively passed to further women's rights could instead impinge on their freedom, and take from them something they value. Even worse, it could lead to those in the most fundamentalist of households being trapped inside their homes altogether. It would be cruel to limit these women's options in the name of liberation, even if their clothes are a rebuke to the secularism that the French rightly hold sacred.







photoMichelle Goldberg is a senior correspondent at The American Prospect. She is also the author of Kingdom Coming and The Means of Reproduction.

Thursday, June 25, 2009

In a Death Seen Around the World, a Symbol of Iranian Protests

YouTube

Frames from a YouTube video of Neda Agha-Soltan's death. Opposition web sites and television channels have repeatedly aired the video, which shows blood gushing from her body as she dies.

Published: June 22, 2009

TEHRAN — It was hot in the car, so the young woman and her singing instructor got out for a breath of fresh air on a quiet side street not far from the antigovernment protests they had ventured out to attend. A gunshot rang out, and the woman, Neda Agha-Soltan, fell to the ground. “It burned me,” she said before she died.

Go to the Lede Blog »
Caspian Makan, via Associated Press

A photo of Neda Agha-Soltan from May 2009 provided by a man identifying himself to The Associated Press as Caspian Makan, her fiancé.

Kamran Jebreili/Associated Press

A memorial in Dubai, United Arab Emirates, honored Neda Agha-Soltan, 26, an Iranian killed Saturday during a Tehran protest.

The bloody video of her death on Saturday, circulated in Iran and around the world, has made Ms. Agha-Soltan, a 26-year-old who relatives said was not political, an instant symbol of the antigovernment movement.

Her death is stirring wide outrage in a society that is infused with the culture of martyrdom — although the word itself has become discredited because the government has pointed to the martyrs’ deaths of Iranian soldiers in the Iran-Iraq war to justify repressive measures.

Ms. Agha-Soltan’s fate resonates particularly with women, who have been at the vanguard of many of the protests throughout Iran.

“I am so worried that all the sacrifices that we made in the past week, the blood that was spilled, would be wasted,” said one woman who came to mourn Ms. Agha-Soltan on Monday outside Niloofar mosque here. “I cry every time I see Neda’s face on TV.”

Opposition Web sites and television channels, which Iranians view with satellite dishes, have repeatedly shown the video, in which blood can be seen gushing from Ms. Agha-Soltan’s body as she dies. By Monday evening, there already were 6,860 entries for her on the Persian-language Google Web site. Some Web sites suggest changing the name of Kargar Street, where she was killed, to Neda Street.

Mehdi Karroubi, an opposition candidate for president in this month’s election, called her a martyr on his Web site. “A young girl, who did not have a weapon in her soft hands, or a grenade in her pocket, became a victim of thugs who are supported by a horrifying intelligence apparatus.”

Only scraps of information are known about Ms. Agha-Soltan. Her friends and relatives were mostly afraid to speak, and the government broke up public attempts to mourn her. She studied philosophy and took underground singing lessons — women are barred from singing publicly in Iran. Her name means voice in Persian, and many are now calling her the voice of Iran.

Her fiancé, Caspian Makan, contributed to a Persian Wikipedia entry. He said she never supported any particular presidential candidate. “She wanted freedom, freedom for everybody,” the entry read.

Her singing instructor, Hamid Panahi, offered a glimpse of her last moments.

He said the two of them decided to head home after being caught in a clash with club-wielding forces in central Tehran. They stepped out of the car. “We heard one gunshot, and the bullet came and hit Neda right in the chest,” he said. The shot was fired from the rooftop of a private house across the street, perhaps by a sniper, he said. On a Facebook posting along with the video, an anonymous doctor said he tried to save her but failed because the bullet hit her heart.

“She was so full of life,” said a relative who spoke on condition of anonymity. “She sang pop music.”

The relative said the government had ordered the family to bury Ms. Agha-Soltan immediately and barred family members from holding a memorial service.

The paramilitary forces were quick to stop memorial services elsewhere, too. More than a dozen bearded men on motorcycles dispersed nearly 70 people gathered outside Niloofar mosque on Monday. Authorities ordered the mosques not to hold services for any victims of the demonstrations over the past few days.

“Go, get lost,” they shouted, as the regular police stood by.

But one police officer, watching the militia, said a prayer aloud with the crowd in her honor: “Peace be upon the prophet and her family.”

As Ms. Agha-Soltan’s family held a private ceremony on Monday, they turned reporters away and refused to speak. “They were not allowed to hang even a black banner,” the relative said.

Funerals have long served as a political rallying point in Iran, since it is customary to have a week of mourning and a large memorial service 40 days after a death. In the 1979 revolution, that cycle generated a constant supply of new protests and deaths.

But the narrative of death has also been important in the lore surrounding the existence of the Islamic republic.

The government portrayed itself in the role of Hussein, the grandson of the Prophet Muhammad killed by a far larger army during the seventh-century struggle within Islam, which gave birth to the Shiite sect that predominates in Iran.

Days for prophets and saints believed killed in the service of the faith dot the holiday calendar, taking up 22 days of the year.

So the very public adulation of Ms. Agha-Soltan could create a religious symbol for the opposition and sap support for the government among the faithful who believe Islam abhors killing innocent civilians.

One poem circulating on the Internet explicitly linked her death to other symbols of the protest movement:

Stay, Neda —

Look at this city

At the shaken foundations of palaces,

The height of Tehran’s maple trees,

They call us “dust,” and if so

Let us sully the air for the oppressor

Don’t go, Neda

She has become the public face of an unknown number of Iranians who have died in the protests. While state television has reported 10 deaths and state radio 19, it is widely believed the total is much higher.

A witness said the body of a 19-year-old man who was killed in Tehran on Sunday was given to the family only after it paid $5,000.

For many Iranians, though, the death of a young woman has special meaning.

“We know a lot of people have died, but it is so hard to see a woman, so young and innocent, die like this,” a 41-year-old who gave his name as Alireza said Monday.

Women were particular targets after President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad began to strictly enforce previously loosened restrictions. Thousands of women were arrested or intimidated because they did not adhere precisely to Islamic dress code on the streets.

Mir Hussein Moussavi, the leading opposition candidate, campaigned along with his wife, Zahra Rahnavard, and other prominent Iranian women rallied to his side as he promised to improve the status of women.

A woman called Hana posted a comment on Mr. Karroubi’s Web site: “I am alive but my sister was killed. She wanted the wind to blow into her hair; she wanted to be free; she wanted to hold her head high up and say: I am Iranian. My sister died because there is no life left; my sister died because there is no end to tyranny.”

Neil MacFarquhar contributed reporting from New York.

In a Death Seen Around the World, a Symbol of Iranian Protests

YouTube

Frames from a YouTube video of Neda Agha-Soltan's death. Opposition web sites and television channels have repeatedly aired the video, which shows blood gushing from her body as she dies.

Published: June 22, 2009

TEHRAN — It was hot in the car, so the young woman and her singing instructor got out for a breath of fresh air on a quiet side street not far from the antigovernment protests they had ventured out to attend. A gunshot rang out, and the woman, Neda Agha-Soltan, fell to the ground. “It burned me,” she said before she died.

Go to the Lede Blog »
Caspian Makan, via Associated Press

A photo of Neda Agha-Soltan from May 2009 provided by a man identifying himself to The Associated Press as Caspian Makan, her fiancé.

Kamran Jebreili/Associated Press

A memorial in Dubai, United Arab Emirates, honored Neda Agha-Soltan, 26, an Iranian killed Saturday during a Tehran protest.

The bloody video of her death on Saturday, circulated in Iran and around the world, has made Ms. Agha-Soltan, a 26-year-old who relatives said was not political, an instant symbol of the antigovernment movement.

Her death is stirring wide outrage in a society that is infused with the culture of martyrdom — although the word itself has become discredited because the government has pointed to the martyrs’ deaths of Iranian soldiers in the Iran-Iraq war to justify repressive measures.

Ms. Agha-Soltan’s fate resonates particularly with women, who have been at the vanguard of many of the protests throughout Iran.

“I am so worried that all the sacrifices that we made in the past week, the blood that was spilled, would be wasted,” said one woman who came to mourn Ms. Agha-Soltan on Monday outside Niloofar mosque here. “I cry every time I see Neda’s face on TV.”

Opposition Web sites and television channels, which Iranians view with satellite dishes, have repeatedly shown the video, in which blood can be seen gushing from Ms. Agha-Soltan’s body as she dies. By Monday evening, there already were 6,860 entries for her on the Persian-language Google Web site. Some Web sites suggest changing the name of Kargar Street, where she was killed, to Neda Street.

Mehdi Karroubi, an opposition candidate for president in this month’s election, called her a martyr on his Web site. “A young girl, who did not have a weapon in her soft hands, or a grenade in her pocket, became a victim of thugs who are supported by a horrifying intelligence apparatus.”

Only scraps of information are known about Ms. Agha-Soltan. Her friends and relatives were mostly afraid to speak, and the government broke up public attempts to mourn her. She studied philosophy and took underground singing lessons — women are barred from singing publicly in Iran. Her name means voice in Persian, and many are now calling her the voice of Iran.

Her fiancé, Caspian Makan, contributed to a Persian Wikipedia entry. He said she never supported any particular presidential candidate. “She wanted freedom, freedom for everybody,” the entry read.

Her singing instructor, Hamid Panahi, offered a glimpse of her last moments.

He said the two of them decided to head home after being caught in a clash with club-wielding forces in central Tehran. They stepped out of the car. “We heard one gunshot, and the bullet came and hit Neda right in the chest,” he said. The shot was fired from the rooftop of a private house across the street, perhaps by a sniper, he said. On a Facebook posting along with the video, an anonymous doctor said he tried to save her but failed because the bullet hit her heart.

“She was so full of life,” said a relative who spoke on condition of anonymity. “She sang pop music.”

The relative said the government had ordered the family to bury Ms. Agha-Soltan immediately and barred family members from holding a memorial service.

The paramilitary forces were quick to stop memorial services elsewhere, too. More than a dozen bearded men on motorcycles dispersed nearly 70 people gathered outside Niloofar mosque on Monday. Authorities ordered the mosques not to hold services for any victims of the demonstrations over the past few days.

“Go, get lost,” they shouted, as the regular police stood by.

But one police officer, watching the militia, said a prayer aloud with the crowd in her honor: “Peace be upon the prophet and her family.”

As Ms. Agha-Soltan’s family held a private ceremony on Monday, they turned reporters away and refused to speak. “They were not allowed to hang even a black banner,” the relative said.

Funerals have long served as a political rallying point in Iran, since it is customary to have a week of mourning and a large memorial service 40 days after a death. In the 1979 revolution, that cycle generated a constant supply of new protests and deaths.

But the narrative of death has also been important in the lore surrounding the existence of the Islamic republic.

The government portrayed itself in the role of Hussein, the grandson of the Prophet Muhammad killed by a far larger army during the seventh-century struggle within Islam, which gave birth to the Shiite sect that predominates in Iran.

Days for prophets and saints believed killed in the service of the faith dot the holiday calendar, taking up 22 days of the year.

So the very public adulation of Ms. Agha-Soltan could create a religious symbol for the opposition and sap support for the government among the faithful who believe Islam abhors killing innocent civilians.

One poem circulating on the Internet explicitly linked her death to other symbols of the protest movement:

Stay, Neda —

Look at this city

At the shaken foundations of palaces,

The height of Tehran’s maple trees,

They call us “dust,” and if so

Let us sully the air for the oppressor

Don’t go, Neda

She has become the public face of an unknown number of Iranians who have died in the protests. While state television has reported 10 deaths and state radio 19, it is widely believed the total is much higher.

A witness said the body of a 19-year-old man who was killed in Tehran on Sunday was given to the family only after it paid $5,000.

For many Iranians, though, the death of a young woman has special meaning.

“We know a lot of people have died, but it is so hard to see a woman, so young and innocent, die like this,” a 41-year-old who gave his name as Alireza said Monday.

Women were particular targets after President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad began to strictly enforce previously loosened restrictions. Thousands of women were arrested or intimidated because they did not adhere precisely to Islamic dress code on the streets.

Mir Hussein Moussavi, the leading opposition candidate, campaigned along with his wife, Zahra Rahnavard, and other prominent Iranian women rallied to his side as he promised to improve the status of women.

A woman called Hana posted a comment on Mr. Karroubi’s Web site: “I am alive but my sister was killed. She wanted the wind to blow into her hair; she wanted to be free; she wanted to hold her head high up and say: I am Iranian. My sister died because there is no life left; my sister died because there is no end to tyranny.”

Neil MacFarquhar contributed reporting from New York.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

How India and Pakistan can resolve Kashmir now

The political atmosphere between the two is ripe for a summit deal.

On Tuesday, the leaders of India and Pakistan met on the sidelines of a regional summit in Russia. It was their first face-to-face meeting since the terrorist attacks in Mumbai (Bombay) last November, when Pakistani-based militants murdered nearly 160 civilians.

India's recently re-elected Manmohan Singh, arrived at the summit buoyed by his Congress Party's sweeping victory in India's May elections. Pakistan's Asif Ali Zardari arrived at the meeting tempered by the rapid Talibanization of his country – a civilian leader in control of less and less in a country traditionally managed by its armed forces. The meeting, even after Pakistan's government once again feebly looked the other way this month and released the head of the militant organization that claimed responsibility for the Mumbai attacks, underscored the fact that the Taliban are now everyone's problem.

What happened in Mumbai in November is the most recent reminder of the dangers that emanate from Pakistan's raging Islamic militancy problem. That is why India must seize this moment with its politically united electorate to take away the jihadists' raison d'être for destabilizing India – Kashmir.

Riddled with insurgent violence, corruption, and official intimidation, the region has long been disputed by the two countries, including two wars over its status.

Historically, the moments at which peace was most possible between the nuclear-armed neighbors were when hawkish leaders were pragmatic enough to see the mutual benefit in making peace without compromising security.

Atal Behari Vajpayee, India's prime minister in 2000, and Pakistan's military strongman, Gen. Pervez Musharraf, nearly reached a framework for ending the Kashmir dispute. Mr. Singh and General Musharraf almost did so again in the back-channel diplomacy that took place between 2004 and 2007 before the general embroiled himself in domestic controversy.

The conditions for making peace could not be better.

Mr. Zardari does not see India as an existential threat. Singh has a political mandate strong enough to overcome Pakistan's repeated failures to control its home-grown extremists. Zardari sees an advantage in commercial ties that rise far above the importance his Army places on using jihadists as a foreign-policy tool to maintain a grip on Afghanistan or to intimidate India.

Singh and Zardari need to strike a bold compact to solve their problems – now. Tuesday's meeting in the Urals, which will be followed up by a meeting between the foreign secretaries of the two nations, should lead to a peace summit that demands both sides prepare major positions as opposed to taking incremental steps to solve their myriad problems.

Incrementalism will not work in South Asia's political atmosphere anymore. The terrorists are too well armed, too well paid, and too many to leave well enough alone.

If this moment to make peace is not seized with the same gusto with which the terrorists take innocent life, they will strike yet again in a way that ensures peace is not allowed to mature.

Singh and Zardari need to understand that their worst enemy in making peace is not the terrorist – it is time itself.

The Indo-Pakistani summit should have a three-point agenda.

Security & counterterrorism cooperation

India and Pakistan should resume the high-level intelligence cooperation that existed in 2004 when unprecedented personal trust between the intelligence chiefs of both countries allowed critical data feeds to counter planned terrorist attacks.

Today, an institutional approach that builds confidence at all levels of the military and intelligence bureaucracy is needed – sort of an equivalent of America's IMET military education program, which trained Pakistan's Army officers in the United States and created sustainable relations between the two countries. This though, would involve the intelligence agencies.

India needs to clarify its objectives in Afghanistan, which it says are aimed at stabilizing a country beset by extremism and which Pakistan says is a strategy aimed at encircling it on its eastern and western borders. If India's motives are pure, it should invite Pakistan to monitor such efforts transparently.

Pakistan needs to muster some courage and send the perpetrators of the Mumbai attacks to India to stand trial – no ifs, ands, or buts.

Economic cooperation

Singh is an advocate of creating economic empowerment zones. He and Zardari should cross-pollinate their border with mini free-trade zones designed to trade those goods and services that each country produces for valuable trade in the other. The list of goods is long, and the amount of trade could be large enough to stabilize Pakistan and give India another important market for its goods.

Afghanistan would also eventually benefit from such trade flows, and if American diplomacy succeeded in Iran, that large marketplace could also be brought into the network.

Singh is an expert in microfinance. He should therefore expand microfinance's role in the entire region by creating an India-Afghanistan-Pakistan joint venture with the World Bank that provides microfinance at a slightly larger scale ($1,000 per loan as opposed to less than $100) to improve employment ratios. Creating jobs is the key harbinger of success in combating extremism throughout South Asia.

If India wants to play in Afghanistan, this is what it should be doing. Pakistan should use its US government aid to mirror Indian efforts aimed at creating jobs that enable increased trade activities with India.

Kashmir

Resolution of this seemingly intractable problem lies in economically empowering the Kashmiri people enough to determine their own political fate. This process will take time but could result in a smoother transition to permanent peace than the perpetual standoff between Indian security forces and Kashmiri militants imposes on daily life in the Kashmir valley.

Self-determination was the historic platform on which Pakistan diplomatically supported, and militarily manipulated, the Kashmir impasse until now.

It could become the skirt behind which Pakistan withdraws in dignity. Two things need to happen: India needs to be prepared to systematically reduce its troops' presence, replacing military might and intimidation with economic growth and opportunity. And Pakistan must be prepared to end support for the jihadists.

In any discussion on Kashmir, India and Pakistan need to agree on a larger framework for the reduction of tensions along their eastern border – from the Indian Ocean to the Siachen Glacier. Troop reductions will encourage trade flows and enable Pakistan to divert the much-needed resources of its embattled Army to fighting the Taliban and other domestic terror groups on its own soil.

Rarely does history offer second and third chances to men of goodwill to resolve intractable problems. Such an opportunity has been afforded to Singh and Zardari. A durable framework from previous negotiations exists, the atmosphere between India and Pakistan is improving, and the timing could not be more opportune.

They must rise to the occasion, for the sake of their peoples' dignity and prosperity, and for the sake of durable and lasting peace in a region that is home to nearly a quarter of humanity.

Mansoor Ijaz jointly authored the blueprint for a cease-fire between Indian security forces and Muslim militants in Kashmir in July and August 2000.