A City of Many Colors, By Halim Barakat

Reading Al Madina al Mulawana, a City of Many Colors:
An autobiographical work by Halim Barakat


Ghassan Michel Rubeiz
East Meredith, New York
June 20, 2007


When a renowned social scientist is a gifted story teller and a good writer his literary product has to be enticing. This is the case of Halim Barakat, a Syrian who grew up in Lebanon and migrated to the US in his early thirties. Alamadina al Mulawana, (A City of Many Colors) is Halim Barakat’s auto-biographical lengthy work written in Arabic and published last year by Alsaki, in Beirut. Barakat narrates his formative years in Beirut, first as a student and then as a teacher/writer before his emigration to the US in the early 1960’s. In this story, a young Syrian child attends a Lebanese Quakers orphanage in Ras-al-Matn, a mountainous village. With a scholarship, a few years later, he attends a socially privileged school for boys in Beirut, the International College. Later he studies sociology at the American University of Beirut. He advances his carrier by starting graduate work, teaching, on the side, writing political commentary, poetry and short stories. He becomes active in local and regional politics. Busy as he is, this man of letters and politics does not ignore his libido for too long. He falls in love simultaneously with two distinguished women and naturally experiences both internal conflict as well as threatening social pressures. He resolves emotional conflict with grace and reason, not without the help of the two prudent ladies he admired.

Writing after the passage of four decades at a period of scholarly retirement, Barakat relies on his phenomenal memories of interesting people he had met, of anecdotes and of limitless personal encounters in Lebanon. The narrative displays excerpts from his diary but it goes beyond personal notes as the author reports on Beirut history before and after the independence of the country. His account of nation building vividly describes the importance of Syria in neighboring Lebanon. His work also details the tactics of traditional warlords wearing modern cloths and serving colonial interests. Brakat’s political ideology reminds me of Frantz Fanon, the Martinique-born political psychiatrist who wrote The Wretched of the Earth and introduced the seminal concept of neocolonialism.

For Barakat, Beirut’s special status in the region is both sweet and sour. Yes, Beirut was the place of cultural encounter between the East and the West; but for him, this encounter has not been genuine. He observes that Beirut imitates Paris without integration of western values. For Barakat, the Lebanese dresses like a westerner but thinks primordially like a villager or a tribesman, especially in matters of politics. The author argues convincingly that what is called confessional democracy in Lebanon is a euphemism for sectarian politics, a formula for endless political instability. Currents events in Lebanon confirm Barakat’s thesis.

Barakat is an admirer of Antoun Saadeh, the founder of the PPS Party: Hizb-al-Kawmy al Suri. Saadeh established a movement of political and social empowerment. This political leader dreamt of a united secular Arab nation within the geographical boundaries of the Fertile Crescent: Syria, Lebanon, Palestine and Iraq. Like Saadeh, Barakat is a humanist with no appetite for traditional religion, and yet the book includes many touching prayers of friends and relatives. Saadeh was executed by the Lebanese authorities in 1949 for allegedly threatening the Syrian and Lebanese regimes. Saadeh’s ideas survived him but his party regressed into the formation of a typical Lebanese militia, an entity better known for rhetoric and fighting than for state building. The author reports that he quit the PPS party in time to preserve his intellectual integrity.

As a literary product Almadinat stands out in style and substance. The story is an account of an Arab village boy who bravely confronted barriers of poverty, social dislocation, regimented orphanage childhood, absence of a father and competitive schooling. This boy leaned to turn crises into opportunities.

The story highlights the role of a loving mother in bringing up her children. She sacrificed herself for the family. The author justifiably portrays his mother as a heroine: a simple but intelligent women, a wise character, a hard worker, a role model and a treasure of unconditional love. Reporting on his evolving relations with his mother, his sister and a family relative, Bahia, the author conveys much respect and praise for women’s roles in the Arab world. He points out that the gender gap in the region has sadly become a fact of life, hardly noticed, legalized and morally rationalized.

In this sweeping work there are scores of anecdotes that are illustrative of social, cultural and political realities of Middle East society. These anecdotes are memories, fantasies, humorous events, short stories, poetry and interesting conversations. Barakat is a master in weaving political analysis with literary material. He alternates personal stories with serious reflection on political matters. He reports history without drowning the reader with facts.

An over demanding reader may question why the author ended his auto biography at the age of 29, when the author left for the US in 1962. The last chapter was about a nostalgic visit four decades later from Washington to Beirut and Kafroun, the Author’s village of early childhood. This last chapter looked anti climactic to me and did not add much to the book.

Since this work was not a typical novel the plot was not to have a plot. There was no climax in the story, no moment of high tension to be resolved dramatically. The story is a series of memories, a stream of association, and a sequence of slides taken from the author’s active literary and political life in the city of Beirut, a city of many colors.

Over the last five decades, about a million people have left Lebanon for the Diaspora, as a result of civil war and dirty politics. Many tell stories about the precious Lebanon they left with deep emotions. For the Lebanese who live abroad, Brakat’s book may serve as a catharsis, as an original model of autobiographical writing, a useful commentary on life away from home or a repertoire of Arab literary anecdotes. For others it may serve as a stimulating thesis for secular and ideological political mobilization, a reminder that sectarian politics is fatal. For most Arab readers the book is a forceful story about a creative intellectual who has determination to challenge personal and institutional authority.