The shoe-throwing incident. People love the shoe-throwing incident. Now, I’m blogging about it here, despite the fact that it was an Iraqi who did it to a non-Desi. I am doing this for three reasons:
1) It brought back bad memories of my last trip to Kerala (more on that, after the jump)
2) We think of shoes as dirty and thus, disrespectful as well (AFAIK)
3) The Lobb-ber has received a marriage proposal for his act of bravado:
An Egyptian man said on Wednesday he was offering his 20-year-old daughter in marriage to Iraqi journalist Muntazer al-Zaidi, who threw his shoes at U.S. President George W. Bush in Baghdad on Sunday
The daughter, Amal Saad Gumaa, said she agreed with the idea. “This is something that would honor me. I would like to live in Iraq, especially if I were attached to this hero,” she told Reuters by telephone.
Her father, Saad Gumaa, said he had called Dergham, Zaidi’s brother, to tell him of the offer. “I find nothing more valuable than my daughter to offer to him, and I am prepared to provide her with everything needed for marriage,” he added.
Zaidi’s gesture has struck a chord across the Arab world, where President Bush is widely despised for invading Iraq in 2003 and for his support for Israel. [link]
Disrespecting someone with a shoe AND a potential “alliance” of families? Oh, that’s so brown, even if it’s not technically brown. Whatever mang, I’m down with the spirit and the letter.
It didn’t just strike a chord across the Arab world. A Professor of Technocultural Studies at my alma mater, U.C. Davis (go ags!), published the following thoughts in the Huffington Post (via Sunaina Maira of ASATA, the Alliance of South Asians Taking Action, whose website seems to be down):
Know what Bush was saying when al-Zeidi threw his shoes? “The war is not over. But . . . it is decidedly on its way to being won.”
And Muntadhar al-Zeidi lost it. Threw both his shoes, yelling that shoe #1 was ” a goodbye kiss from the Iraqi people!” His second shoe was “for the widows and orphans and all those killed in Iraq!”
This was a gift to the entire world. We all owe a debt to this 28-year old journalist who, for one beautiful moment, letting go of all rational calculation of the possible consequences, stood up and spoke truth to power.
He is currently being held by Iraqi security forces and faces an unknown fate. I would not want to be in his shoes right now. [link]
I’m not sure any of us would want to be in his position, right now:
…an Iraqi judge said on Friday that al-Zaidi was beaten and had bruises on his face and around his eyes…
His family says he suffered a broken arm and other severe injuries after he was tackled by Iraqi security officers and US secret service agents and dragged away struggling and screaming.[link]
I’ve written about the “Cheee!”-inducing nature of shoes both here and on our tumblelog, so obviously I like this topic far too much. This wasn’t always the case. Until 1989, I was unaware that shoes were anything other than foot covers which had to come off the moment I stepped inside our home.
In 1989, we were in Kerala, at my Father’s elder brother’s home in Thiruvilla. In that lush, gorgeous Southern state, danger apparently lurked everywhere, so obviously, the best thing to do with a 14-year old girl would be to keep her indoors, so no one could kidnap, molest, eve-tease, cast the evil eye upon or otherwise affect her adversely. The end result of this brilliant strategery? I was so bored, I had called my Mother and pleaded to be released back in to the wilds of America.
It was approximately day 17 of my confinement and more relatives whom I did not know and would never see again were visiting, to peer at me and my American father, the only child out of his eleven siblings to settle in the U.S. of A. I noticed that my new Bata flats were already coming apart; the silvery thread which embroidered the toe-area was unraveling. This annoyed me very much, as loose threads are wont to do. I was standing, so I mindlessly picked up my right foot and placed it on a hard wooden bench, to get a better look at the situation.
Suddenly, though I had been thoroughly ignored for the last two hours (after I had dutifully recited my name, age, and the fact that I didn’t know any Malayalam IN Malayalam in order to be a smart-ass) the chatter and laughter-filled room went silent for a few ugly, scary seconds before my father’s elder brother roared at me.
“DIS-REE-SPECK-FULL GER-IL! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DEW-ING?” My sister looked at me and shrugged. I desperately scanned the room for my Father, who didn’t say anything at first but then shook his head.
“She doesn’t know these things, Achayan.”
“THEN YOU SHOULD BE TEACHING HER.” As scared as I was, I was starting to get frustrated, since I still didn’t understand what the hell I had done, which merited such a public shaming. While my relatives wailed about the dangers of children growing up abroad, my father looked at me and then dismissively mentioned, “You shouldn’t put your shoe or your foot there, not when someone elder is sitting.”
I looked at him incredulously. The bench was a good eight feet long. And nearly empty. Seven feet from me, an ancient woman with wavy silver hair, who was wearing chatta and mundu was giving me the nastiest look while slowly shaking her head. I quickly moved the offending foot and shoe and then hissed “How was I supposed to know that?” at my Father. I felt humiliated and couldn’t understand why he didn’t brief me on these new and confusing customs.
My shoes were brand new. We had purchased them the day before and I had never even worn them out of the house. My eyes started to fill with tears as some asshole blamed my Mother for my shameful behavior. My father saw this and mentioned something about Communists and strikes; within moments I was forgotten, as people competed in a shouting match to see who could make their point the loudest.
As you can tell, that experience affected me; recalling it was effortless, and that’s exactly what I did, when I saw the news clip of the Iraqi journalist hurling his shoe at our lame duck President. I was reminded of that miserable moment in Kerala as well as how my Punjabi Sikh best friend’s Mom once threatened to take off her chappal and beat her brother with it.
Shoes. Bad. I get it. Did Bush? Who cares. I’ve never been more positively disposed towards him– and by positive, I mean I mustered a half-hearted, “Well, he took that better than I expected him to” while nodding– as I was after that moment, when he seemed to take it all in stride. His life-altering, world-ruining policies aside, it was a powerful example of how to avoid a humiliating attack and recover quickly; I’ll try and remember it the next time I’m moderating.
I can completely relate. I used to live in Delhi and went to Kerala on summer trips. I remember stepping on an old ammachi once and having the entire freaking family freak out. My dad was incredibly embarrassed and angry while he tried to clean out something on her white sari. There was nothing there. I never understood that but today I find myself sternly telling my niece not to put her foot on ammachi and apachan because it’s disrespectful.
Thanks for sharing this, the incidents of chappals being thrown I remember from my childhood are the ones where my used to lob them at my brothers and me when she was angry 🙂
Speech at shoe throwers wedding:
“I dont look at this as a union of 2 people, but as a union of 2 families that love there shoe throwing like a fat boy love falafel.”
And why is the foot so offensive when half the people in India use there hand to wipe there ass? I much rather deal with the foot if that is the case.
Dude, it’s not about (actual) hygiene, it’s symbolic–b/c feet are the “low” part of the body.
Shoes and feet are bad in many cultures, especially in the wrong place. I remember being shocked and horrified when Bobby Flay jumped up onto the counter at Kitchen Stadium upon winning the first Iron Chef America contest. Feet – even, or maybe especially, in shoes – on a kitchen counter is a shanda no matter how you slice it.
VOTT!!? hau you can? and we’re not even talking about toejam.
Great post (and your last one on shoes with the Payless commercial!). I was JUST talking about this with my parents, who totally freaked out when I told them that some people wash their Crocs in the dishwasher… it led to a whole conversation with my anthropologist husband about culture, hygiene, feet, shoes, symbols, and on and on…
What do you think we are? Contortionists? I pulled a muscle I didn’t know I had just thinking of wiping my ass with my own foot.
Anyway, as I heard a lot growing up: “Hand is more hygienic than spoon. Hand has only been into your own mouth. Spoon has been into everybody’s mouth.”
In fairness to your friend’s mother, many a vexed Punjabi mother has “threatened” her children with shoes. It’s not uncommon for an angry Punjabi mother to ask if her kids will shut up/sit down/behave or some combination thereof or do they want “eat” shoes.
Borat: Raspberry jam. Mango jam. Toe jam. Is great success. I like.
A N N A,
I luv your writing because it brings back memories of my own experiences growing up. Visiting India, feeling alienated, being ignored and then curiously remembered once again only to be chastised for unknowingly commiting a terrible social guffaw. sigh. looking back, it was a horrible visit (s); i wish my parents had stood up for my western cluelessness vs joined the mob of siblings, cousins, etc in their anger. I also wish I had stood up for myself as I would likely do today.
It’s amazing how we’ve all probably had similar experiences.
My experiences are different. Perhaps it’s due to an age difference, but I always knew that foot contact with people’s clothing, anything that people sat on, etc., was haram. If I messed it up, instead of getting mad at me, my relatives would laugh, i.e. “Oh that silly Americanized girl, she doesn’t know any better.
However, I did get a lot of flack when I got my period overnight and it stained my nightie.
I’m not sure that “western cluelessness” is something to be ‘stood up’ for. Understood, yes. But if you went to an friend’s home in a foreign country that is not India and made a terrible guffaw, it wouldn’t be right for them to yell at you–they should make you aware of what you’re doing wrong and politely correct you, but it wouldn’t be right for you to make excuses for yourself (as opposed to defending why you didn’t know) and continue socially guffawing.
And while I was ‘ignored’ in the sense that people would talk about me as if I wasn’t in the room, I think part of that is just the desi custom of having children be seen (doing chores, doing homework) and not heard, especially when adults gather socially. My aunts and uncles (when we weren’t at a large social gathering), cousins, etc., definitely paid attention to me, if not too much, always trying to make sure that I was comfortable or that things were up to my ‘American’ standards. This was kind of embarrassing in itself honestly.
well of course, toucan. “standing up for myself” means not allowing people to go overboard without understanding why i may not know the customs. it’s unreasonable to fly off th handle without giving thw offender the opportunity to understand why he/she was wrong. it’s not about standing up for the social miscalculation itself.
i don’t claim to be any type of hindu scholar, but i believe much of the association with the negative attitudes to things which touch the ground and the other associations with the feet in indian culture go back to the sudra caste who are ‘born of the foot of the lord’. and that probably stems from some form of hygenic practices associated with control of disease that found its way into folklore, oral tradition, scripture, popular religion and hilariously lazy threats of beatings with a bata.
Growing up in Calcutta, we would never be allowed to touch paper products with our feet or put it in contact with shoes (paper/ books -> knowledge -> Saraswati -> disrespect). When I later moved to Delhi I went to the used book market at Daryaganj where I was shocked to see book sellers walk over their books for sale on the pavement. Even now when packing my suitcase for long journeys I have problems putting my shoes in with my books etc. 🙂
I’ve said it before and I’ll ay it again……wait for it……Bata Chappal.
ASATA is a troubling organization. They dismissed the Hindu-American Foundation’s human rights report on the treatment of Hindus in Pakistan & Bangladesh out of hand with a statement to the effect “these people are basically hindutvaadis and even if true the real issue is the crumbling of civil society that impacts the majority community as well”. Imagine the furor if communal violence in India was explained away by a professor using inadequate policing as an excuse to mask state directed violence.
Anyway, back to the thread. This was completely desi. Except that we tend to come up close with a garland of stinky batas. Anyone with this dude’s manual dexterity is a pro-cricket bowler
….again…..again……Bata Chappal.
Oh, threatening to beat someone with chappals is an entirely common figure of speech. Garlanding something with chappals is a form of non-violent protest. None of my girlfriends did this to me thankfully but this guy says here that a girl will beat a boy with a chappal if harassed.
If you wouldn’t want to be in his shoes right now.. then just imagine what would have been done to him(and his family) if he threw his shoe at Saddam. For all the anti-Bush rhetoric, we shouldn’t lose sight of the fact that Iraq’s future is a lot brighter due to ‘regime change.’ We can argue whether the cost, both American and Iraqi, was worth it.. but I hope that this shoe thrower, and future Iraqi political dissenters, realize they really have been given the precious gift of freedom and continue utilizing it.
Now.. The shoe thrower should be punished for his real crime, physical assault against an individual, and not because he ‘offended’ a foreign leader or whatever charge they brought upon him.
Nice one!
Amrita said: ….again…..again……Bata Chappal.
holy shit that is funny!
“This was a gift to the entire world. We all owe a debt to this 28-year old journalist who, for one beautiful moment, letting go of all rational calculation of the possible consequences, stood up and spoke truth to power.”
The guy didn’t really ‘speak’ truth to power.. he violently threw a dangerous object at someone’s head. To call this ‘beautiful’ is advocating violence and terrorism against those who are practicing free speech. What if Bush had been hit? This seems like the kind of logic that would justify the murderer of Theo Van Gogh, or violent reaction against the Satanic Verses. The guy had every right to stand up and wave a placard and scream, but assault is stepping out of the bounds of free Speech. Sure.. he got more attention, and got his point across.. but Nathuram Godse got more attention by assassinating Gandhi, then he would had he yelled slogans against him.. doesn’t make it right, lawful or acceptable.
I was extremely impressed with Dubya’s quick reflexes and agility. He ducked like a dodge ball pro. I got him thrice in the computer game though
If that was you standing there, and someone who did not agree with you , threw their shoes at you, I don’t think you would find it so beautiful. Treat people how you want to be treated is my motto.
If Dubya was not lame-duck, the Iraqi journalist would have a hole in his head after the 1st shoe. Took a lot of guts or stupidity to do what he did. A fitting end to 8 awful years.
Yeah, I found the shoe-throwing incident amusing, because I completely understood it and was surprised at that common cultural thread. My family is South Indian, and when my mom or grandmother are pissed off with someone, they say things like, “Next time I’ll take off my chappal and beat him with it!” Actually, I think my grandmother once beat her cousin with her left slipper when she was 9 or 10 years old, because he was insulting her parents or her betrothed or something.
What intrigues me is the fact that apparently Arab and Indian people both think of shoes as unclean, or as a way of showing contempt. I really want to know how that happened – did the custom travel from west to east, or east to west, or does it have completely different origins?
There’s a preview button for a reason, folks.
Wait, I’m still in shock over the Egyptian thinking his daughter is a huge foam index finger that most people wave at football games.
Sure, let’s talk about shoes
Am I the only one that’s bothered by the fact that this person threw his shoe at the President? To clarify, I didn’t vote for him either time, I disagree with many of his positions over the last eight years, and I think the Iraqi war was a disaster – but none of that justifies the way this journalist is being glorified. Some people have commented that had this been Saddam Hussein, the journalist would have been met with a bullet in the head by now.
It also bothers me that Americans are so willing to chuckle at the incident. Again – no fan of Bush, but as an American, this angers me.
35 · Sadaf said
No, I think it was stupid, attention-seeking and inappropriate. There are better ways of showing that you disagree with someone. But I don’t care; it was harmless and funny. Now, if he threw a bomb at the President, I’d be slightly angrier. He’s just a melodramatic, unprofessional journalist who wanted his 15 minutes of fame. I wouldn’t worry too much.
So really, you’re saying he should go on chucking shoes at Bush or similar. You may find many who would agree, including the people who put up the video game and the gazillions who will play it. I think this was actually Bush’s finest hour too, both in terms of his not so lame ducking and his brushing the whole thing off– his own Jay-Z moment. They really shouldn’t have beaten up the Muntazer like that, though. Basically, it’s hard to kill anyone with a pair of shoes, and that was not his intention anyway. It was instead the mother of all insults, to coin a phrase.
If feet are bad why do Indians bend down to touch the feet of elders?
xactly! i’d say that using just TP without water is, as u amreekans say, gross.
SeemaAnom, feet are not bad, not dirty. Its a social status thing. You touch the feet of elders to show respect. (Sort of like saying “I’m not as good (important?) as the least part of you”)
For the same reason eastern people find this amusing because they see it for what it is: an insult. Its like he mooned the President. The Americans who are offended, are so because they see it as an attempted assault (what if Bush got hurt?), which it isn’t.
And finally, about the washing-butt-with-hands debate – I’ve done both, and I know which is cleaner: using soap and water. Paper leaves you feeling icky and your crack feeling slippery.
[ Equivalent simulation: eat a meal with your fingers, wipe with tissues and smell your fingers. Then wash with soap and water and smell again. See!]
And finally, nobody in India understands “skid marks”. You have to explain it to Indians, and even then they don’t get it. Wonder why ?
Having grown up in India with its ‘shoes are dirty’ mores, I used to be really shocked (slightly revolted even) during my early days in the US, when students or sometimes even Prof.s put their feet up and let their shoes rest on furniture where their hands will be before long.
This ducking-from-shoes incident reminds me of another notoroius ducking incident – Rajiv Gandhi ducking from the rifle hit of a Srilankan soldier while inspecting a guard of honour in Srilanka
Is disrespecting books by touching with your feet more of a hindu custom? I remember from my school days, some of my hindu schoolmates would get very nervous if their feet accidentally touched a book or any written material. They would pick up the book and hold it to their forehead and say a short prayer asking for forgiveness. Being a book lover, I thought it was a good way to respect things you consider important. I don;t know what is more offensive to a book though- touching with your feet or scribbling all along the margins………..
42, as you wonder, it might be more of a Hindu (religion) custom, I am not sure, but as a Mallu Christian, I was taught stepping on books is taboo, too. I have done many times what your schoolmates did, if my foot accidentally touched any books. Till this day, I feel a tiny prick of conscience if I inadvertently step on anything that has writing on it.
The reason why toilet paper was invented is because the human hand should never touch feces. How do you think typhoid fever and other such diseases are spread and why do you think they are so prevelent in India?
When in India, using squat toilets that do not have a flush but are rather flushed by pouring buckets of water down them, then of course toilet paper is not practical. However, it is extremely important to use ALOT OF SOAP in such a circumstance, which many people do not, in many cases because soap is not available in the toilets that they happen to have to use in various circumstances like travelling.
In the west, with sit down toilets, on earth would using soap and water for washing one’s backside work? It wouldn’t, no matter what the Hare Krishnas tell you.
The solution in the west combines the best of both worlds and gets you the squeeky cleanest;
Your hand will never have to touch feces in this process – ever.
Anna-thank you for this post. I can remember some childhood summers in India where I would also be chastised by relatives about the way I dressed, talked, walked-what I did say and what I did not say. This was all so great for a young girls ego who already had crooked teeth, bad hair and a very fragile self esteem. My grandfather, god rest his sole, loved to make fun of the way I spoke Gujarati-to the point that I stopped speaking it and still to this day am very self conscious about it even though I am quite fluent. Maybe this is why it’s been years since I have been to India….though I would love to go back as a tourist now if that would even be possible.
But back to the shoes….I remember as a child always getting confused when I was to remove my shoes and when I was to leave them on-the Indian neighbors down the street-take them off-the Italian neighbors next door-keep them on. Even now as an adult I always hesitate when I enter somebody’s home. I question, do they do things like their parents or are they adopting the american ways and wearing shoes in the house? It’s weird to me to wear shoes in my own house but I also don’t always like taking them off when I go to a house of a person I don’t know well. (remember the sex in the city episode?) It’s amazing how your upbringing can cause so much conflict when you walk into somebody’s home!
OMG my dad made me do the same thing, say I can’t speak Malayalam IN Malayalam.
Whenever we would visit a new family and they asked about us, BOOM, statement time. I mean, get it? What a twist!
I was a feisty and “self actualized” youngster, and I remember being teased, scolded and proded by Indian relatives on our regular visits back (every 2-3 years without fail from the time I was born). However, being who I was, I always teased and prodded back. Don’t like my Hindi? Let’s hear your angrezi. Oh how they hated me and vowed their kids would never go to Amreeka and turn out like me. The thing about desis is they can dish it out but they can’t take it. Especially when they are jealous of you and their only way of feeling “equal” is to make fun of the object of their envy. I remember when I reached my teens and how my cousins and their friends would make fun of me. And they were the ones dressed like it was 1971. Get real people.
My comeback on the language bit was, “puh-leeze, you’re making fun of an American because she can’t speak in Indian language well??? And what language is going to get you a good job and a green card someday Honey?”
Oh how they loathed me. And I them. All is fair in love, war and Indian family fueds.
And then all the aunties with their forcing me to wear sarees and salwars in 100 plus degree weather. What is up with that? I got mine though just 2 years ago when one of those aunties came to visit me in my big, brand new house here state side. Oh yeah, you better believe I forced my fashion sense (beachwear!) on her. And she DOES NOT have the shape for it either. Ha ha. Revenge is sweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet.
“puh-leeze, you’re making fun of an American because she can’t speak in Indian language well???
Should read “…speak an Indian language…”
As an American, and a total non-supporter of President Bush, I was surprised to find myself feeling proud of the way he ducked those shoes…very impressive. I found myself going “USA, USA” loudly in my head. I was very, very happy the Arab world didn’t get the satisfaction of the shoes actually hitting the American president.
That being said, I was proud of the journalist too. I agree that Saddam (back in the day) would have been a better target than Bush for Iraqis’ ire, but nonetheless, it took guts to throw your shoes at the leader of the country which you feel is occupying your land. And of course the symbolic meaning was devestating (he was playing to the Arab World, it mattered little if Bush or other Americans understood the gesture or not).
Overall, I’m just happy Bush ducked and avoided what would have been a HUGE symbolic bitch-slap to the USA.
Nibu, you are missing an ‘m’ I believe.
She already told us her Hindi is no good.
No, the “m” is a soft m in nimbu, therefore the spelling nibu is more accurate to the sound. Hmmmm. You sound like one of my aunties. NRI Anjali Sharma in K3G, when she’s living in UK. You know, alot of desis feel have that same attitude.
Total bullshit.
Whatever, Amitabh, everyone I know pronounces it nibu. Maybe they’re just bullshitting me so that I sound dumb?
Couldn’t care less. Pronounces “nibu” correctly or incorrectly is neither here nor there for me. It’s not going to get me anywhere in life either way. That’s the point I always made to my desi relatives on our trips back to India. It’s totally irrelevant to an American teenager (at the time) or adult if they speak an Indian language correctly or not. For us, our parents’ mother tongues are nothing more than a light hobby at best, unless we plan to teach English as a second language in India or something. I see some American Desis here have similar attitudes as outdated elders do in India. What gives for God’s sake? I thought I left that all behind me years ago.