Dance-athon in Syria

Unruly Politics in Syria

On December 19, The New York Times reports on an unusual musical approach in Syria to their uprising. Demands for change have been expressed through "catchy tunes and collective  choreography, to the extent that mourners packing a street one day this  month began to dance during a protester’s funeral, a conspicuous break  from the traditionally somber ritual". Watch the video and read the whole story by Neil MacFarqhuar here.

"Among protesters across the Arab world, Syrians —particularly the   restive residents of Homs — have embraced an unusually musical approach   to their uprising. They have expressed their demand for change through catchy tunes and collective choreography to the extent that mourners   packing a street one day this month began  to dance during a protester’s   funeral, a conspicuous break from the  traditionally somber ritual.

“It was a combination of both a physical and a psychological reaction,”  said a young actor, describing how he had cut loose at his very first  demonstration in Damascus, the capital.

“Nobody told me to dance — it just started,” he added, speaking  anonymously, like many Syrians, out of fear of reprisals. “It was weird,  but I liked it. Something is changing in the minds of the Syrians.”

On the simplest level, the dancing signals that despite months of bloody  repression, the euphoria people feel in seeking freedom cannot be  suppressed, participants said.

Singing and dancing are manifestations of what many Syrians describe as a  much broader cultural flowering. Some of it gets expressed through the  relative safety of the Web, and much of it involves humor and satire. In  a country where people often considered themselves dour and habitually  too cowed by an oppressive government to mock it, this is a major  cultural shift.

“As a society, we were united by fear. We were never unified by mutual sentiment,” said Orwa Nyrabia,  a film producer. “But there is a new patriotic sentiment that is much  more grass roots. It is not something bestowed by the regime.”

Syrians marvel at the vivid, dynamic and creative aspects of this awakening. A Facebook page called the Chinese Revolution derides the Syrian government on many levels, not least the official  position that the uprising is imported, the result of a foreign plot.  The Facebook page describes every antigovernment action in Syria as if  it had taken place in China. Damascus is Beijing, and President Bashar  al-Assad of Syria is President Hu Jintao of China.

Another Facebook page, called the Homs International Tank Wash and Lubrication Center,  also follows events with an ironic twist, calling on the government not  to withdraw its tanks from civilian areas lest that bankrupt business.

A few pranksters apparently took their furtive protests onto the streets  — creating stunts, especially in Damascus, that bedeviled the  government. For example, an amplifier hidden atop a building on a main  square broadcast the recording of a Homs antigovernment demonstration.  Security forces are said to have run around central Damascus madly  trying to find the marchers.

Once, the capital’s main fountains were dyed a bloody red. Another time,  protesters painted scores of Ping-Pong balls with words like “Leave”  and “Freedom” in red and blue ink, and then released them on a hill  above Mr. Assad’s house. A video shows them clattering down the  cobblestones, and activists insist that frenzied security agents scoured  the streets to collect them all.

The Syrian government turned down a request to interview Najah al-Attar,  the vice president for cultural affairs, about the artistic outpouring.

Many of these events are difficult to verify, because the government has  admitted only a few foreign journalists into the country, and then only  for a limited time. But a constant stream of creative videos has  appeared on YouTube.

Among the latest is a 15-part series called “Top Goon: Diaries of a Little Dictator,”  with English subtitles. It presents the crisis through four finger  puppets, including “Beeshu,” a belittling nickname for Mr. Assad. With a  beaky nose, protruding ears and a long, narrow face, the two-inch  puppet captures the president’s elongated visage.

In episode one, Beeshu dreams that the government has fallen, only to be  reassured by his military aide, Shabih (which means thug), that 99  percent of the population still loves him. When Beeshu decides to resign  anyway, the aide barks: “Are you crazy? Have you gone mad? Do you think  that it’s your decision?”