Writers' Festival: A writer willing to live and die for free speech

Sitting at the windows of the National Theater New Stage building, overlooking busy Národní street, Bahaa Taher drifts back for a moment.

"Seeing these trams makes me feel very nostalgic," he says. "They remind me of when I was growing up in Cairo."

A current events question jolts him back to the present: What is his reaction to the Israeli attack on the flotilla of aid ships bound for Gaza last week?

He sighs and stabs out one of the three cigarettes he allows himself every day. "I came here very depressed, and I'm still very depressed," he says. "It seems there are two sets of international laws - one for the Israelis, and another for the rest of the world."

Taher has a unique view on problems in the Middle East. A native of Egypt and left-wing activist during the 1960s, he had his work banned in the mid-'70s and was driven from the country. He spent nearly 20 years in exile, writing and working as a translator for the United Nations in Geneva, before returning as a celebrated novelist.

Given the penetrating insights of Middle Eastern culture that run through his work, and his understanding of the divide between the Middle East and the West, one would expect Taher to have strongly nationalist, or perhaps regionalist, opinions. But his experiences have made him an internationalist, a balanced observer whose principal concerns are human rights.

"I lived in Europe long enough to know what to expect and not expect, so I am not surprised by double standards, where one party gets all the rights to self-defense, and the other party is deprived of the same rights," he says. "But still, I am surprised that Arab and Palestinian blood is held so cheap. In fact, I am more than amazed - I am disgusted."

What would he propose as the near-term solution to the Gaza problem?

"Lift the blockade," he says, looking surprised it's even a question. When it's pointed out that Egypt has also been enforcing the blockade, he nods and acknowledges, "Egypt has been participating one way or another in this blockade. But I don't mind condemning my own government. Not at all."

Nor any other government where he sees hypocrisy. When he notes how "illogical" it was for Israeli commandos to be attacking and killing passengers on the ships, Taher gently reminds his American interviewer, "Your vice president found it very logical."

Taher's humanitarian instincts extend to literature, where in his own work he has resisted using Western and Middle Eastern stereotypes, instead employing Middle Eastern settings and characters to explore universal ideas and concerns. In his 2006 novel Sunset Oasis, which won the inaugural International Prize for Arabic Fiction, the main characters are an Egyptian police officer and his Irish wife, but the themes are colonial occupation and native rebellion.

And, when the discussion turns to freedom of speech, Taher is quick to praise fellow author Peter Matthiessen, who received the Spiros Vergos Prize for Freedom of Expression at this year's Writers' Festival. "I was very glad to see Peter win this award," he says. "Freedom of expression is only a lecture unless it is used to help the weak and oppressed. That's why I'm happy he won the prize. I've read what he wrote about Native Americans, and it's wonderful."

This attitude takes Taher to some strange places. He is, for example, a compulsive signer of petitions, even those he disagrees with.

"The main thing is to defend everybody's right to free speech, even your political enemies," he says. "I may not believe in their ideology, but I will defend any political group's right to freedom of expression.

"What was the saying attributed to Voltaire? 'I may disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.' That's me, although I hope not for the death part."

Frank Kuznik can be reached at
fkuznik@praguepost.com