Most have heard the old adage that no two countries that have a McDonald’s have ever fought a war against each other.
In his book, The Lexus and the Olive Tree, Thomas L. Friedman proposed The Golden Arches Theory of Conflict Prevention, observing that no two countries with a McDonald’s franchise had ever gone to war with one another, a version of the democratic peace theory. Shortly after the book was published, the NATO bombing of Serbia proved an exception to the theory, though in a later edition Friedman argued that this exception proved the rule: the war ended quickly, he argued, partly because the Serbian population did not want to lose their place in a global system “symbolised by McDonald’s” (Friedman 2000: 252-253). [Link]
A reporter from the Christian Science Monitor asks, “Why not Salsa?” Once those hip start swinging who would want to fight?
What if it could be proved that no two nations that play salsa music have ever declared war on each other?Some of the best salsa music in the Middle East comes from Egypt and Israel, for instance. Both nations have been at peace since 1979, the same period when salsa began to take hold.
The first time I heard Arabic salsa music, I was in a taxi in Dubai, United Arab Emirates, racing to catch a connecting flight to Afghanistan. The taxi driver, a Pakistani, was playing an incredible song on his radio. First came the Latin rhythms on bongos, then the rush of flamenco guitars. It sounded like the sort of dance music I grew up listening to in south Texas but with a distinctly Middle Eastern trill of the voice and the guttural lyrics that could only be Arabic.
The music was a revelation. After Sept. 11, and the media barrage proclaiming a “clash of civilizations” between the West and the Arabic world, here was evidence of something quite the opposite. Instead of a clash, this was a blend, and a gorgeous one at that.
It was a reminder that there were other voices in the Arab world than Osama bin Laden, and good voices at that.
“Amr Diab,” the taxi driver announced proudly. “He is Ricky Martin of the Arab people.”
Age has taught me manners, so I remained silent until I reached the airport. But in my head I was thinking: I know Ricky Martin, from his few years at the top of the charts. And Amr Diab is no Ricky Martin. He’s much better.
It is the same in every non-English speaking country. No matter where you travel the most frequent inquiry you get as an English speaker is someone asking if you can translate the meaning of an English song for them. “Yes, but this part. What it means?” Song lyrics are the way many people around the world learn English and perhaps better their lives by utilizing it. The discussion of one’s favorite song can also form instant friendships.
Ya Allah, indeed, the Islamic extremists must be thinking, as they tug at their beards. What has happened to the new generation? All they want to do is dance, and run down the street singing, “Habibi… habibi… habibi… el Nuor Elain (My darling, you are the light of my eye….)”
