In preparation for this occasion, I have taken the opportunity to read a number of the addresses by my distinguished predecessors as presidents of MESA. I am aware therefore that it may be a somewhat unusual introductory gesture on my part to open my address with a few secret details about the process whereby I find myself standing in front of you all this evening.

When I was initially contacted about putting my name forward as a candidate for the presidency of MESA, I immediately responded, as I now recollect, “But I’m a literature scholar.” That admittedly feeble attempt was instantly rebuffed by a vigorous assertion of the fact that literature is a significant field within this organization, but would I please not launch into a disquisition on any of the mu‘allaqat, nor even of a novel by Naguib Mahfouz. Now, finding myself at the proverbial cross-roads, I decided to play what I thought would be my trump-card: “But I’ve only been cited on Campus Watch three times!” Yes, we know, came the response; that is pathetic, but you’ve still got some time. Just try a bit harder, can’t you?

This article is a part of an attempt to show how the Iraqi novel depicts the main sectarian and ethnic groups in Iraq. Concentrating on Iraqi novels in Arabic, written mainly by Arab writers, I will examine the attitude of intellectuals to the Kurds as well as the role accorded to Kurds in the narratives of contemporary Iraqi novels.

Benedict Anderson was one of the first scholars to speak about the role of the novel in creating and spreading a national identity. This is done through a creation of an “imagined community” with shared notions of time and space. The Iraqi novel was and still is committed to this idea and most Iraqi (Arab) novelists were partisans of an Iraqi nationalism that strongly supports the integrity of the country within its current borders and envisions a nationalism that contains all of Iraq’s communities.

Everyone knows that the work of scholars in America is often considered to be irrelevant to the real issues of life. According to the mild anti-intellectualism that seems to be an endemic feature of American culture, anything that is “academic” is automatically impractical, complex, and impenetrable—in short, it is bad. This is a little hard for professors to live with; no one likes being called a pointy-headed intellectual or an egghead. The very skills and specializations that are the keys to academic success can be seen by the public as defects that remove scholars from the sphere of ordinary existence and disqualify their pronouncements. Here I would like to argue that the gap between academics and an unappreciative public is in good part a function of the language and style of communication that scholars commonly practice in all fields. But if in fact there are large segments of the public who are keenly interested in issues relating to subjects like Middle Eastern studies, or the study of Islam, it should be possible for academics to communicate the results of their labor in clear and meaningful ways. If qualified scholars do not respond to the demands of the public, we know what the alternative is: the public will remain content with the standard media sources of information and disinformation.

There is no question that it is easy to get lost when climbing outside the ivory tower of academia and becoming a socially engaged scholar. In my case, such engagement has substantially delayed many other projects that are dear to my heart. Nevertheless, in the course of my fourteen year sojourn on the web, all in all the time spent outside has been worth it. In this paper, I will discuss three web-based projects that I have created: my “Islam and Islamic Studies Resources” website, an international discussion group on Sufism called “Sufis Without Borders,” and a daily world news service, “Sufi News and Sufism World Report.” I will also make some recommendations based on insights gained over the course of these projects.

Alexis de Tocqueville was born an aristocrat, in the very conservative region of Normandy, in France in 1805. He was at the same time an admirer of the French Revolution, although due to his upbringing and family, he was unable to subscribe to all the principles inherent to that revolution. Tocqueville remains admirable on that score, as he lived under the counterrevolution and participated in the government of the new monarchy. His contradictions made him an observing outsider. He studied law and went into politics. He accompanied his friend, Gustave de Beaumont, who was sent by his government to the New Republic of America, to study the U.S. prison system for its eventual application in France. They cosigned the subsequent report.

As an avowedly secular anthropologist who studies Islamic cultures, what better way to orient myself than a fairy tale of the Brothers Grimm. As the story of Rapunzel is spun, a young maiden is trapped in a tower by a wicked witch and forced to let down her golden hair for the old dame to climb. One day along comes a prince, who with the best of intentions tries to free the girl but is pushed out of the tower by the witch and blinded by thorns. In the children’s version the couple is eventually reunited and lives happily ever after. In the real world ever before us there are seldom such happy endings. As scholars of Islam, institutionally holed up in the Ivory Tower of Academic Isolation, there are not many opportunities to let down our doctored hair and allow our golden voices to escape the classroom. One such opportunity, seemingly out of a fantasy world not even imagined by Jakob and Wilhelm Grimm, is opened up by the Internet.

The history of Algeria’s colonization by France is closely linked to resistance (from 1832 to 1847) led by the Algerian hero Emir Abd al-Qadir (1808–1883), and to the ideology of the French agent Alexis de Tocqueville concerning the means by which France could dominate the country. The colonization of Algeria divided the French political sphere into three approaches: Those who demanded the retreat of French troops, those calling for a limited occupation, and finally those in favour of extending domination and the colonization of the occupied territories. Among the last, let us highlight the chief advocate, Marechal Guizot, and his military accomplices (generals Cavaignac, Pelissier, Saint-Arnaud, Montagnac, and others led by general Bugeaud). Working with them was Alexis de Tocqueville (1805–1859), a fervent defender of colonization at any cost. He was to be their ideologist, a theoretician of colonialism who would legitimize French expansion in Algeria.

Academics who concentrate on the study of Islam live in challenging times. The proliferation of “popular” sources of news and information evokes both significant concern as well as tremendous possibility. This is true across the academy, not only in our own field. In a recent issue of the Journal of the American Medical Association, a team of medical scientists analyzed 153 videos about vaccination and immunization on YouTube. What they found was very disturbing. A staggering number of YouTube videos portrayed vaccinations in a negative light, and about half contained messages completely contradicting established medical science. Furthermore, the research team found that videos with negative portrayals of vaccinations were highly provocative and powerful, and received more views and better ratings by YouTube users than those videos that portray vaccinations in a positive light. The study concludes that this situation is extremely dangerous and that public health officials must consider how to effectively communicate their scientifically founded viewpoints through internet video portals.

As Tocqueville’s writings on empire have become more available in translation, and as both Anglophone and Francophone political theorists have begun to grapple with the transnational aspects of democratic theory, scholars have increasingly puzzled over the apparent dissonance between Tocqueville’s liberal and imperial voices. How can his dedication to human freedom co-exist with his embrace of permanent colonial domination in Algeria? This essay attempts to contextualize this paradox in Tocqueville’s thought without turning historical context into an apologia.