Yesterday Mike asked the ultimate question: why the fascination with the Middle East?

Although future post on the matter would inevitably address such a point, I nevertheless find myself at a befuddled loss on how to answer.

On principal, this should not be the case, for I am constantly quizzed at conferences and social interludes about my passion for the region.

To date, my answers have varied between the personal – “Part of my family is from North Africa” – to the inane – “Gee, uh, it’s just so rich in culture and history…it’s the cradle of civilization…”.

Despite the gaping chasm in my answers, I feel driven to differentiate my love for the area from that which motivates my colleagues.

Naturally, I too, quiz fellow Europeans on their inspiration to study the region, and yet somehow their answers leave an empty chill.

Amongst the top answers have been the following two: “I was in business, but realised that the Middle East was a far more lucrative area in which to teach and research. So yes, the money is what drew me.” (From a professor); and “The Middle East is in the news, so it is the hot topic right now. It’s in fashion.” (My former students).

The number of times I have heard “it’s the fashion” or “there’s money to be had” is innumerable, and each time a small part of me sighs and resigns to a cushioned corner to sorrowfully munch Maltesers.

(Oddly, it also reminds me of Zoolander, as in, “Mugatu is so hot right now…”)

Sadly, it is no secret that conflict spawns academic interest – a mere appraisal of the number of research centers on the Balkans that closed after the end of the Yugoslav War is testament, although there has been a positive resurgence in recent years.

Nevertheless, it worries me that the Middle East policy makers, academics, and researchers of the future are motivated more by money and fame than passion and a sincere love for the region and its people.

Personally, I cannot place when or where I developed Middle East mania: perhaps it is indeed a combination of the personal and the external.

Twee though it may sound, the introduction of Michael Palin’s book, Sahara, captures the dawn of my fascination with much aplomb:

My father was in charge of the Export Department of a steelworks and every Christmas he received an enormous box of dates from their agent in Algeria, addressed to Mr. E.M. Palm. …The illustration on the packet fuelled powerfully romantic fantasies of somewhere hotter, drier, and even more romantic than Yorkshire; a place where men with turbans, baggy velvet pants and wicked moustaches reclined under palm trees with veiled and sequined ladies, whilst their faithful camels stood in picturesque silhouette against the setting sun.

While Said would have a field day with such Orientalist fancies, for a young child the images smacked of adventure, mystique, beauty, and fantasy.

As I grew older, the beautiful fantasy became blotted by the tragic drops of reality: the men and women were victims of injustice, suppression, and the region that had indeed been the cradle of civilization was now the cradle of conflict.

While my father was – somewhat incongruously – in the military, he served in the Gulf, and while most teenagers beseeched their fathers to bring back jewels, gold, and exotic perfume, I would enter almost hysterical rapture at the sight of a newspaper. Or a coin.

Although I could not read yet Arabic, I would sit for hours with the yellowing paper, savouring each word and picture, and wondering what was going on in that particular locality of Oman or Yemen, who would buy that car, and the individuals that worked in the factory that printed the paper.

Having partially fulfilled my dream of visiting but part of the region, I can confidently express that it lived up and beyond my anticipations, and I heartily hope that I shall have the opportunity to explore the region more widely.

The reasoning behind my infatuation with the Middle East, and not Africa, Asia, or Latin America, remains elusive, however.

During the course of my current job-seeking tour (ha!) one interviewer sneeringly quipped that my publications and research interests seemed quite broad, as opposed to dedicated to one aspect of the Middle East with a mêlée of titles, such as: mushroom growing in Jordan, Jordanian mushroom cultivation, or fungus nurturing in the Kingdom of Jordan.

My response was perhaps too earnest, but honest: I am interested in every aspect of the Middle East and this is reflected in my work, and my life.

Rank with pomposity as this next line will sound, Confucius struck the nail on the head when he concluded that:”Find a job you love, and you will never have to work again”.

To date, I have researched the security, anthropology, economics, art, and history of the Middle East, and I am thirsty still to learn more.

As this post spirals dangerously towards “Supporting Statement/Cover Letter” territory, I am aware that no definitive answer has been given yet.

Thus, in response to the question: “Why the Middle East?”, I can only retort, how could it not be?

[Images via: Robert Louden, Farfuglinn, and Laylatoot.]