Dispute & Diplomacy Over 4 Persian Gulf Islands

Listening to the United Nation General Assembly speeches this week, I heard Shaikh Abdullah bin Zayed Al Nahyan demand that Iran give up possession of the strategic and resource-rich Persian Gulf islands of Abu Musa and the two Tunbs to different historical claimants, namely the states of Sharjah and Ras Al Khaima, or, in the alternative, consent to let the International Court of Justice decide which country or countries have the right to them.

This is not a new demand. I wrote a lengthy term paper at university in the mid-1970s about the 1971 independence of Bahrain and formation in the Persian Gulf of the U.A.E. It included this matter.

( Aside: my research and result so fascinated my professor that he maintained a copy and was able to discuss it with me over 40 years later. I found that he'd used some of my work without attribution, but never mind, that happens at universities, students know it. He's gone now.)  

Most people who hear the demands of the Arab states with respect to the three islands claimed by the U.A.E and Iran do not know or recall that there were actually four Persian Gulf islands involved before Iran took control of the three disputed islands. The fourth was the British Protectorate of Bahrain, ruled in some aspects by the Sunni Al Khalifa family for over 180 years by 1971, but also by other countries historically, including Iran. 

The matter is multi-dimensional but a pedestrian summary would include: Bahrain had and has a majority Shia population with religious, family and other ties to Iran; aspirations for freedom, equality and dignity by the entire population, but especially the under-served Shia segments and those who know discrimination in many ways; a plebiscite asking if Bahrainis wanted to align with Iran or be independent; they heard promises from your family and the Brits of a constitution and rights and chose independence; the U.K. made a secret deal with the Shah, trading independence for Bahrain -- rather than restoration of Bahrain as a historical Iranian province -- for the restoration of Iran's historic right to Abu Musa and the two Tunbs. 

Influential factors have now changed. One of importance is that there's a Bahrain causeway connected to historical Bahrain some 18 miles long with special lanes for members of certain tribes on both sides. Tanks and armored personnel carriers rolled across that bridge to help your family and friends maintain power in 2011, and remain to this day, along with paid mostly Sunni mercenaries from other countries used to alter the demographic balance and suppress dissent in all forms.

To be fair to Iran, if the original 1971 deal is to be renegotiated, if the two member states of the U.A.E. who claim Abu Musa, Lesser and Major Tunbs AND the fourth island, Bahrain, all want to do what's fair, then the causeway built by the malign actor Saudi Arabia and a debt trap, must be immediately given to Iran, along with the full extent of territory stolen from the Arab Shia population by the Al Sauds in their historical rampage across Arabia. 

The planned causeway to Qatar could be built and Bahrain, then aligned with Iran, could share in the immense gas wealth and form a new, peaceful partnership. The fishermen of Sharjah and Ras Al Khaimah could resume fishing or buy shares in luxury hotels to be built on the islands.

You want something significant, then you give something significant, right? That's what happens in negotiations between equals. Some underestimate their opponent.

#Bahrain #UAE #SaudiArabia #UK #Sharjah #RasAlKhaimah #AbuMusa #Tunbs #Hormuz #StraitofHormuz #Iran #Qatar #Oil #PersianGulf 

Was protecting you a gift?

I wonder if you ever realized that this suggestion was a gift from me:  that we remove ourselves from outside and your car near the beach one night to inside a Yusef bin Ahmad Kanoo villa nearby. 

I said it was the sand and then the need for a shower afterwards, even while we had been eager at the car, outside the car to be more precise. You agreed and we moved inside the house where, you may recall, there was a small dinner party in honor of your Saudi friend Prince Bandar. Somebody lost something somewhere, remember? I do. Gulf Air stewardess. We all had a good laugh about who might find what was lost.

At least one of us was aware on the beach that night that Bahrain is a small island with a lot of eyes and very fast gossip. Your enemies could have had a field day. I stopped it that time. At least one of them was at the party.

It's My Birthday, So Some Thoughts on Gifts

Today's my birthday. 70. It rained this morning, even when I walked outside to accept delivery of a Tuxedo cake from a couple of my former neighbors. Seattle needs rain, so it was a gift. I took a bit of metaphysical credit, too. My birthday, my rain.

Then some good political news made for another special moment. Paul Manafort pleaded guilty to serious charges for which a Trump pardon will be ineffective and which will surely implicate Fat Nixon's lard ass in conspiracies and obstruction. Because I pay close attention to D.C. politics, I was happy for a bit that my birthday was the occasion on which it happened, so I thought of it as a gift.

Yesterday afternoon I made a decision not to do what I'd planned for this morning, to go and watch the new version of "A Star Is Born" with Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper, even though I don't like the venue where it's currently showing. I know the story line and my daughter suggested in Messenger from abroad that my mood wasn't compatible with a tragic film where the male lead dies in the end, so I had a rethink. Her excellent advice was a gift.

I needed to get out, it was sunny and so I walked down to the Majestic cinema on Market Street to watch "Crazy Rich Asians" instead of Cooper's film. 

I wanted comedy rather than tragedy, the reviews were good, some of the actors have been on the late night talk shows and it seemed like it might fit my needs. I didn't know when I walked in that it would be a stereotypical plot, only played out with Chinese and other Asian actors rather than white folks in the previous three versions. (The cinematography of Singapore is stunning in it, which I was reminded this morning watching Free Practice 3 of the Formula 1 Grand Prix going on there this weekend.)

In summary of the movie plot, a well-educated young woman from an ordinary background who's fallen in love with a young man from an extremely wealthy family -- much to her surprise -- is rejected by his family as unsuitable for them, despite her best efforts to please them. It is all so familiar and has a happy ending, though, unlike ours. I was in tears through half of it, but that's the sentimental me. I cry easily, too often, as always.

Today I thought about all the years that I've written you letters for your birthday, over 50 years now, albeit they've moved from hard copies to here, and some that I wrote and saved as I could not send them while keeping a very low profile and didn't care to have them intercepted. It was probably a gift to you that I didn't send them all, but perhaps you will have the opportunity to read them one day in a different format.

I thought about the fact that you never had to do a thing for any of the small gifts which I accepted from you, other than ask someone else to fetch them. 

Then I thought about the fact that I worked hard, all day long, every day, for a whole summer to save up the money to buy for you the last gift that I brought to Bahrain, the tall and beautiful vintage brass lamp made from a World War II battle shell, carved with a lighthouse and a lady in flowing robes, with the three fluted, matte pink lamp shades at the top. The major said that he'd have it polished for you.

I wondered if you appreciated it for one moment, let alone the gift of my efforts to acquire it, ship it to London and then bring it to Bahrain for your military treasure collection, just like the WWI battle helmet that I brought you in a prior visit and the helmet from Vietnam in an even earlier visit. Of course, our gifting cultures are entirely different. We say "Thank you."

I've never had a new car and quit driving over 20 years ago because it's expensive to maintain a car and I wasn't driving much. I don't like traffic and Seattle is one big traffic jam. I laughed at fast cars in the film because it reminded me that you just throw cars away. Out went the E-type. Out went the red Thunderbird. Out went the navy blue Rolls with our names on the inside doors. Not having to drive is a gift to me, most of the time.

I've never owned a grand piano or a house to put one in. I remember talking with you about pianos more than once, about you buying one and bringing it to Bahrain, then gifting it to one of your sisters. I remember you saying that I'd have a grand piano some day, ah yes, and you'd build me a little villa, that you'd get for me what my heart desired. I had to give up my little piano with the move here in May because the management won't allow it. That's been very hard on me, perhaps worst of all the negative things associated with this place, because playing the piano and writing music has been my saving grace for a long, long time. My music is a gift even without the piano.

I don't even have a decent kitchen with the latest move from the rat-infested house to this cubbyhole apartment that would fit inside the reception room at Safriyya where we spent so much time together. I'm still dreaming up and inventing new soft, frosted cookies for my artisan collection, but now must do half the preparation in my dining/living room/office space rather than the teeny kitchen, but I don't care because at least there's an oven. 

So, there are gifts, things for which I'm grateful today, moments and imperfect people to treasure.

The First Marriage

You asked me every time we met if I've married again.

I did not. I never married anyone but you.

I love this photograph which you sent me along with a love letter after I was sent away from you (one of the times when I was sent away from you.) You didn't like the photo because you'd shaved off your mustache and felt that it made you look like a monkey with a cigarette in your mouth. Remember?

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