The need for a new air pollution index in Beijing was gloomily apparent today as visibility plunged, yet official statistics indicated the Chinese capital was just short of enjoying a "blue sky" day.
For the second time in a week, many drivers were forced to use headlamps around noon to penetrate the gathering darkness.
The Islamic attitude towards the environment that surrounds humanity is not merely restricted to the presence of Allah everywhere but also to the following dimensions:
By submitting to Allah, Islam establishes the bedrock of the relationship between finite, mortal human beings and the infinite Divine, the secular and the sacred. This relationship cannot be understood without first realising the meaning of the “submission” that the “created” should concede in his relationship with the Creator.
Humans have to accept that they are created beings who act as the “agents” of Allah on earth. These agents are creative in their own way but they are not Allah. Humans, however, will become closer to the sacred by operating according to Allah's instructions. The Prophet (peace and blessings be upon him) in a Hadith Qudsi (Divine Hadith), quotes Allah as saying: "When a worshipper moves closer to me by good virtues and voluntary acts of worship (nawafil), I will be his hearing by which he can hear, I will be his eyes by which he can see, I will be his hand by which he can act, and his feet by which he can walk. If he asks Me [to give him] I will give him what he wants, and if he asks for protection I will protect him." (Al-`Asqalani, 1959: 11, 341)
Islam, as a way of life, expects human beings to conserve the environment for several reasons which may be summarized as follows:
1- The environment, is Allah's creation. The creation of this earth and all its natural resources is a sign of His wisdom, mercy, power and His other attributes and therefore serves to develop human awareness and understanding of this creator. (Ar-Ra`d, 13: 2-4; 21:79)
2- Muslims should seek to protect and preserve the environment because by so doing they protect Allah's creatures which pray to Him and praise Him. Humankind might not be able to understand how these creatures praise Allah but this does not mean that they do not do so, Allah says:(The seven heavens and the earth, and all beings therein, declare His glory: There is not a thing but celebrates His praise, and yet ye understand not how they declare His Glory!)(Al-Israa’ 17: 44)
3- The environment contains Allah's creatures which the Muslim scholars consider to also deserve protection.
4- Also among the reasons why Islam seeks to protect and preserve the environment is that Islam, as a way of life, is established on the concept of good (khayr). Therefore it is expected that Islam will protect the environment once it is understood that such protection is good by itself. The Qur'an states:(He whoso do good an atom's weight will see it. And whoso do ill an atom's weight will see it.)(Az-Zalzalah 99: 7-8)
In Islam, humans are expected to protect the environment since no other creature is able to perform this task. Humans are the only being that Allah has "entrusted" with the responsibility of looking after the earth. This trusteeship is seen by Islam to be so onerous and burdensome that no other creature would 'accept' it. Allah says:(Lo! We offered the trust unto the heavens and the earth and the hills, but they shrank from bearing it and were afraid of it and man assumed it Lo! he is a tyrant and fool.)(Al-Ahzab 33: 72)
In Islam the relationship between humankind and the environment is part of social existence, an existence based on the fact that everything on earth worships the same God. This worship is not merely ritual practice, since rituals are simply the symbolic human manifestation of submission to Allah. The actual devotions are actions, which can be practiced by all the creatures of earth sharing the planet with the human race. Moreover humans are responsible for the welfare and sustenance of the other citizens of this global environment. The Qur’an contains many verses that can be referred to for guidance in this respect. The following verse 21 of the second surah of the Qur'an, is one example:
(O people! Worship your Lord, Who hath created you and those before you, so that you may ward off (evil). Who hath appointed the earth a resting-place for you, and the sky a canopy; and causeth water to pour down from the sky, thereby producing fruits as food for you. And do not set up rivals to Allah when ye know (better).)(Al-Baqarah 2: 21-22)
The word in this verse which is translated as "may ward off evil" is in Arabic tattaqun. It enjoins piety and awareness which is accompanied by an appreciation of the surrounding environment. In this verse, the Qur’an speaks directly to all groups of people, whether believers, or not. It attempts to mobilize people to the importance of "worshipping Allah" as a symbol and a way of life that enjoins justice and equity in handling the system created by Him.
This system has been placed under human responsibility, to be cared for and not misused as can be concluded by returning to verse 22 ofsurat al-Baqarah. The word lakum (for you) in the phrase "created for you" contains the message that the earth is not for one generation but for every generation, past, present and future and that would include humans as well as other creatures on this earth. Accordingly, rivers, minerals are the property of all. This should be distributed fairly and justly especially when it happens to be owned collectively like the Rivers Tigris and Euphrates.
The refugees hurried down the deserted road in the searing midday heat, their suitcases clattering on the tank-scarred tarmac. Waving white flags, they crossed one ghostly village after another. Shuttered shops, destroyed buildings, stray dogs panting in the shade were all passed as the group veered around craters in the road.
A warplane hissed overhead, the crump of artillery shattered the silence. At a checkpoint nervy soldiers searched the group – about two dozen men, children and burkha-clad women – at gunpoint. "We have to get out," said Muhammad Tahir, a burly man sheltering under a black umbrella. "No food, no electricity, no gas – we can't take it any more."
Pakistan's army is winning the war in Swat, the tourist idyll turned Taliban fortress. After seven weeks of battle the militants have been driven from their strongholds.
The government says that total victory is imminent. But military success has come at a human price. More than one million people have fled Swat, according to revised government figures. And inside the valley, hidden from the world, a second crisis is brewing.
Tens of thousands of people – nobody is sure how many – have remained in Swat through the fighting, stuck between the army and militants and straining under a strict military curfew.
Last week the Guardian spent three days in Swat, slipping in through rough mountain roads controlled by neither Taliban nor army. The route was littered with the debris of war – a levelled mosque, white smoke billowing from the forests and a destroyed police station at the peak of a desolate mountain pass, blue uniforms strewn outside.
Jimmy Carter has spoken of his "grief and despair" at seeing the destruction in the Gaza Strip carried out by Israel's 22-day offensive on the territory six months ago.
"This is holy land for us all and my hope is that we can have peace ... all of us are children of Abraham," the former US president said during a joint news conference with Ismail Haniya, the deposed Hamas Palestinian prime minister, in Gaza City.
Following a tour of the area to see the effects of Israel's offensive, Carter said: "My primary feeling today is one of grief and despair and an element of anger when I see the destruction perpetrated against innocent people in January."
He said the Palestinians had been treated "like animals" and the deprivations faced by them in Gaza were unique in history.
Carter said he was trying to persuade Hamas leaders to accept the international community's conditions for ending its boycott of the movement.
Forty-three seconds: that's the duration of a video clip uploaded to YouTube less than a year ago under the category of "Comedy."
For the "hero" of the clip, an unidentified young Arab, they were probably eternally long seconds and far from amusing. He was forced to slap himself and sing to the jubilant shouts of the photographer and his buddies - all of them members of Israel's Border Police.
This clip, which has been viewed more than 2,800 times, shows the unknown Palestinian standing in a desert setting while a disembodied voice orders him in Hebrew to hit himself: "Yallah, start, do it hard!"
The viewers hear the chuckles of the other policemen and a clear voice telling the Arab: "Say 'Ana behibak Mishmar Hagvul' ["I love the Border Police? in a mix of Arabic and Hebrew]. Say it!"
They see him obey in a subdued voice and with a frightened look, even as he goes on slapping himself. They hear the "director" laughing and the faceless voice shouting: "Again! Ana behibak Mishmar Hagvul."
After a little more than 30 seconds, the voice says, "Say 'Wahad hummus wahad ful'" - and the Arab man obeys and then is told to complete the rhyme: "Ana behibak Mishmar Hagvul."
After 40 seconds, the abusers appear to have had enough and the voice impatiently orders the victim: "Yallah, rukh, rukh, rukh" ("go"). The camera turns and for a fraction of a second a Border Police Jeep is visible.
A few dozen viewers sent comments. "Hahahaha, it was great the way he excruciated himself." Another added: "That's how it should be!!!!! Stinking Arab."
And a third pointed out, "He should have been shot!! Sons of bitches." A few viewers took pity on the victim, though with reservations. One person remarked, "Mercy on the guy, even if he's an Arab. What's it in aid of? He didn?'t do anything."
Old City lions
The clip just described is not the only one that has been circulated among members of the Border Police and found its way onto the Web. Haaretz found several others like it, in which Palestinians are seen being abused and humiliated by Border Police troops. The faces of the tormenters are rarely seen, and it's also not clear where the clips were filmed - but what is clear is the atmosphere in which this cruel theater is played out.
For example, one 53-second clip that was uploaded in the past year and has had about 1,800 hits opens with the caption, "And a little poison - C Company, the lions of the Old City." This clip, during which the caption "Respect" appears, consists mainly of stills of Border Policemen and is accompanied by an original soundtrack: "Let every Arab mother know that the fate of her children is in the hands of the Company, C Company in the Old City; with protective vests and clubs we break apart gun clips on Arab mothers; hours in the alleys, in every corner, at every moment, a police patrol with green beret is on the prowl and the others are plenty scared; C Company's in the Old City, so let every Arab mother know."
(This is a play on a famous quote by David Ben-Gurion, who said that every Jewish mother should know that her son is in good hands in the army.)
Another clip is accompanied by the following explanation: "They were bored (my buddies) so they grabbed one guy and laughed with him and he did it serious.? The visuals show a mustachioed Palestinian wearing a blue shirt and a green hat, sitting in what is probably a police vehicle. He raises his hands and asks "Now?" and gets an affirmative reply. Then, to the sounds of "One, two, three" and rhythmic clapping, he declaims, "Wahad hummus, wahad ful, ana behibak Mishmar Hagvul."
After a few rounds of this he asks, "Yallah, enough?" The policemen, who are seen for a split second, reply, "More! More!" And he continues. This clip has had more than 2,500 hits, with similar reactions. ?Hahaha, what a dumb Arab," one viewer writes, and another chimes in, "You gonna see me there in too weeks and then we shute Arabs to the death." (The English written here reflects the level of the Hebrew.)
One clip clearly shows the face of a Border Policeman as he speaks into the camera: "Shalom. I am now at [checkpoint] 51," he says. Behind him, in the background, a Palestinian is seen crossing the road at a distance. The photographer urges the policeman on: "Run to him quick."
"Hey, there's an illegal - I want to show how I catch an illegal," the policeman says, and starts to chase the Palestinian. The photographer is heard chortling and sniggering as he documents the event. The clip ends as the policeman returns to the Jeep with the youngster he has caught and says, "A Hamas terrorist has just been captured. Wow!" Standing behind him, the Palestinian, obviously fearful, intones, ?No, I am not Hamas, I am not Hamas."
Yet another clip, entitled "Magavnikim" ?(Border Police, in the Hebrew acronym?), features an old, apparently ailing man. He is asked what he thinks about the "blue police" and replies, "Ass-fuckers."
"So the blue police are fuckers, eh? And the Magavnikim?" he is asked. "What are Magavnikim - soldiers?" the elderly man asks, and gets a positive reply. "Ah, kapara [absolution] on them," he says in a raspy voice.
Another video, which, according to its captions, was filmed by soldiers from the Lavi battalion in November 2007, features stills describing the unit's daily routine. A series of photos depicts Palestinians crouching on the floor of a room in which an Israeli flag is displayed, blindfolded and with their hands bound. In one photo, an Israeli soldier appears smiling next to one of the bound men.
Via the Internet, Haaretz tried to contact everyone who uploaded the clips to YouTube, no responses were received, with one exception - and that person refused to comment substantively.
Border Police spokesman Moshe Pintzi stated in response: "In recent years there has been a decrease of tens of percent in complaints filed against Border Policemen, both over the unauthorized use of force and inappropriate behavior. One can attribute this trend to educational efforts in cooperation with human rights organizations and a policy of zero tolerance. The Border Police has vowed to maintain values, first and foremost, human dignity and human rights, and the fighters are taught to respect these values."
According to Pintzi, the high command of the Border Police has known about the YouTube videos since 2008. "The Border Police is trying to find those who took the videos and if they are still in the force, they are being called in for clarification. From our experience, the videos are mostly uploaded to the Web after they are discharged because they understand our policy of zero tolerance. If we find evidence of a possible criminal offense we at the Border Police command transfer it to the internal investigation department. As for the song by Company C, following Haaretz's request, the Border Police has begun to deal with the matter through our educational and disciplinary frameworks. The content of the song is contrary to the values in which we educate our fighters. We condemn the cynical use of David Ben-Gurion?s words by the creator of the song, and the Border Police intends to see this matter through."
Unofficial anthem
Forcing Palestinians to sing songs of praise to the Border Police is not a new phenomenon. In May 2007, for example, a field worker for B'Tselem, the Israeli Information Center for Human Rights in the Occupied Territories, took testimony from Mohammed Abu Mohsen, a 15-year-old boy from the village of Abu Dis, which abuts East Jerusalem. He described abuse he had suffered at the hands of Border Policemen close to his home. One of the policemen, he said, ordered him to chant, "Ful hummus ful, I love Mishmar Hagvul."
"Again and again [he] wanted me to say that, but I wouldn't do it," the boy testified.
This unofficial Border Police anthem has been cited in indictments filed against abusive members of the corps. In 2005, two Border Policemen, Yaniv Aharoni and Assad Bader, went on trial in Tel Aviv Magistrate's Court on charges of attacking and abusing Palestinians who had entered Israel illegally. According to the indictment, Bader "demanded that the complainants sing 'Hummus ful, I love Mishmar Hagvul' - saying that anyone who did not sing would be hit on the head.? Aharoni and Bader were convicted of aggravated assault, abusing helpless victims and making threats, and were sentenced to prison terms.
Worse than singing
From conversations with Border Policemen who recently completed their service, it turns out that the "Wahad hummus, wahad ful" chant remains very popular. A. is an officer who served in the Border Police for 10 years, mainly in the Jerusalem area and along the separation fence. Asked whether this is a widespread phenomenon, he replies, "Yes, because the Arabs also know this song and, you know, laugh."
Sometimes, A. notes, when Border Policemen detain a Palestinian for a check, "until he [the policeman] records his ID number, [in order] to amuse the guys they bring in a new recruit to run the show - They line them up in a row and udrub" ?(get going?).
Isn't there anyone who says this behavior is wrong?
"No, who would say that? They take it as clowning, you know."
Don't you think it's humiliating to make people do that?
"From that point of view, yes, but it's a relative thing, which is still at a higher level than the other things they do, which are more humiliating."
Such as what?
"A lot of things. Blows, 'sit on my knees,' 'lower your head,' 'pull down your pants,' 'strip.' In my opinion, those are worse things than singing."
Why do you suppose they film it?
"They film it so they can boast to the guys and show it to friends in civilian life."
V., a Border Policewoman who served in Jerusalem and Hebron, relates, "It's a song that I would say has been rooted in the Border Police for years. When I got to the company I heard it from locals [Arabs] who sang it. It's passed on to each new group."
Who films these things?
"In my opinion, it's isolated cases of fighters who want to leave their mark or somehow try to educate the residents, but it's not something that every Border Policeman does."
Have you ever seen films like that?
"I saw one or two. For example, a bus that was carrying people to East Jerusalem and they stopped it and made everyone get off and took their ID cards. That's a check of probably a quarter of an hour and a delay, so they try to pass the time: they talk to them, sing with them. Something like that."
Y., another Border Policeman, tries to explain the phenomenon: "I got to know that song when I was drafted and was getting into the groove. Then, when I was in Hebron, the Arabs would say 'Ana behibak Mishmar Hagvul.'"
Why would an Arab sing that on his own initiative?
"I have no idea. It depends on the guy that arrested him, what went on in his head."
Good for the group
"What makes an ordinary Border Policeman humiliate others? What satisfaction does he get from it? Where does the need come from? Was it taught to them by someone?"
These rhetorical questions are posed by Dr. Ruhama Marton, a psychiatrist who is the president of Physicians for Human Rights. "The answer is yes: his squad commander, his platoon commander and the silence of the higher commanders taught him. They get the practice from the small-fry and the approval from the big guys."
In an attempt to explain the behavior of Border Policemen, Marton cites the theory of the British psychoanalyst Wilfred Bion (1897-1979.)
"Bion," she says, "divided people into groups and argued that each group has basic assumptions, which are almost always unconscious, that dictate its behavior. An example is what he called a fighting group, which is characterized by a deep need for a leader to whom the fighters will delegate many demands and longings. The leader has to be the savior of the group, which resembles any typical battalion in Givati or Golani [IDF infantry brigades], and do the thinking for it.
"The fighting group has a collective morality. In other words, the members of the group do not develop the personal areas of morality, conscience and personal distinction between good and bad, or they try to ignore them ... A phenomenon of group morality results, which is characterized by the view that what is good for the group is good, right and just, and what serves the group is moral."
Is that reflected in the case of the Border Police?
"If the spirit of the group says 'the Arabs are not really human beings,' that is the determining factor. And if they are not really human beings, then to humiliate them is not the same as humiliating me."
A humor thing
How does the high command in the Border Police treat the phenomenon? All the policemen who were asked said they had never been reprimanded.
Did your commanders ever talk to you about this?
"No," says Y. "Never. You don't do anything that's not all right."
So it's all right to make someone sing?
"I don't know how to explain the phenomenon. As long as it doesn't involve the use of force or violence, I don't think it's not all right. But I didn't do things like that, because it's making fun of people...
The Palestinians are definitely afraid of your uniform, not of who you are, and there are some who take advantage of the power of their uniform ... to hit someone here, hit someone there. You see it; you live it on the ground. But in my opinion, the people who do those things are miserable types who just want to show off. Some do it because they?re feeling down and there are another thousand and one reasons for doing those things."
How widespread is it?
"It depends on the guy's craziness."
V., the policewoman, says, "We were not specifically told 'don't do that' or 'do that.' It's not something that hurts their rights, it doesn't cross the border of the resident?s rights. If they flow with the singing, it's not that they are being ordered or [being threatened] with a pistol."
Can a Palestinian tell a Border Policeman "I don?t want to sing"?
"In my opinion, yes - It's a humor thing and if they flow with it, terrific, and if not they just move on."
Degrading and unacceptable
Major General ?(ret.) David Zur, who was commander of the Border Police from 2002 to 2004, says he is not familiar with the ditty mentioned above or the phenomenon of forcing Palestinians to sing it.
Of abusive treatment in general, he says, "Probably it happens more in groups of Border Police, because their point of friction at checkpoints and in dealing with illegals - which is the main occupation of the Border Police - is sharp. ... We cannot ignore the fact that it happens once every so often, and it does not have the tacit agreement of the high command."
According to Zur, "The Border Police is a collection of fighters who come from many different cultures. People who might not integrate in the army's combat units integrate in the Border Police. Some people might say that is a bad thing, but some might say it is even Zionist service. There is a very high percentage of new immigrants. I offer this background in order to explain that in the final analysis, to introduce these people into the combat formation in a very short time is no simple matter and a great deal is invested there ... There is an effort to root out phenomena like that, and all the types of abuse or of despicable behavior are dealt with ... The Border Police does amazing work in the realm of education."
Fighters I spoke with don't even understand that it's not right. They call it humor.
"It is degrading and it is unacceptable, period."
How can it be that this basic understanding is nonexistent?
"I can tell you that this phenomenon has decreased significantly, for many reasons. Because of education, greater supervision and also because of the women in Machsom Watch [who document the activity of soldiers and Border Policemen at checkpoints] who did work in this area, and some of their photographs reached us. At the time, I allowed the Red Cross and an international human-rights organization to enter Border Police bases and talk to the troops. There are results, but it's quite hard and it takes time and I am not sure that immediate results are visible."
Do you think that lengthy service in the territories leads to insensitivity?
"Yes, yes. The people rub up against them [the soldiers], some of them experience difficult things, but none of that justifies it. The expectation is that people will rise above the grinding duty and the frustration and behave accordingly.
From theatre in a Bethlehem refugee camp to the Venice biennale, Palestinians are making art out of adversity - and doing it with grace, finds Ahdaf Soueif, organiser of the Palestine festival of literature. Read the article here.
At least 10 people have been killed and 19 injured after armed men opened fire on a mosque in southern Thailand.
Men armed with assault rifles entered the mosque in the Cho-ai-rong district of Narathiwat province during evening prayers on Monday and opened fire, the army and police said.
"They opened fire indiscriminately at about 50 worshippers inside the mosque," a police official said on condition of anonymity. The dead included the local imam, he said.
The attack in the Muslim-majority south comes amid a recent spike in violence in a five-year insurgency that has left at least 3,700 people dead.
Police have said at least five gunmen carried out the attack, one of the deadliest single incidents since the insurgency began in 2004.
Wall, a 20-year-old sociology and English senior, decided to assume the characteristics and attire of a “typical” Muslim woman for a year starting in late April.
She wears the traditional veil, or “hijab,” and loose-fitting clothing everywhere she goes and does not consume pork or alcohol in public. She avoids eye and physical contact with men and has adopted modest habits like walking with her arms glued to her sides or crossed in front of her to hide her chest.
I witnessed the looks Wall gets on a daily basis when we met at Kerbey Lane on the Drag recently.
She’s wearing a hijab splashed with vibrant shades of green and blue. A long-sleeved, black shirt and floor-length aqua skirt reveals only a few inches of skin.
Some who pass us try to be inconspicuous with their intrigue, limiting themselves to quick side glances. But most don’t even try to be candid with their exaggerated double-takes or blatant stares.
She passes by a group waiting to be seated, and all of them stare at the back of her head as she walks away. One guy even rolls his eyes.
“It doesn’t surprise me,” she says when I tell her about the group. “But look around. They’re not the only ones.”
She insists her decision is not a social experiment but more of a personal learning experience. As a white female from a small, West Texas town, Wall says she wanted to know what it would be like to be part of a “noticeable minority.”
“I’m not representing Muslim women or the Muslim community,” she says. “I just want to know what it’s like to walk in their shoes for a while.”
Initially, Wall elaborates on her “learning experience” when people would ask her questions, the most common being “So, where are you from?” She has abandoned these efforts. Now, when people ask about her attire, she simply says she is not Muslim but wears the hijab because she chooses to do so.
This explanation is not entirely untrue, as Wall admits to not being able to leave her home without the clothing.
“I decided a while ago that I was going to try and not wear the hijab for 24 hours,” she says. “I couldn’t even make it for half that.”
Wall says she receives different reactions when she wears the hijab. A man once fell into a display at Wal-Mart because he was staring at her. One day a group of male patrons at the restaurant where she works refused to be served by her. The same group called her derogatory names. But most of the time she said she is just respectfully avoided.
“I wouldn’t say guys don’t hit on me, but they do so in a very different way now,” she says. “It’s more respectful, less forward.”
The experience has taught Wall to pay attention to smaller details that would make a traditional Muslim lifestyle difficult to follow in the United States.
One day at a clothing store, Wall had to ask for a sheet to cover a gap between the floor and dressing room door so she could hide her bare legs as she changed. Her job as a waitress presents one of the most awkward situations as it naturally entails a lot of physical contact with strangers, which is not allowed for Muslim women, she said.
Wall has grown to appreciate this sort of privacy and, in some ways, respect it. Perhaps the most unexpected outcome of the experience is a newfound devotion to her Christian faith. The Islamic faith requires followers to pray five times a day, the first prayer being at 5 a.m. Though Wall has not yet assumed this tradition, she admits she may in the future, and finds herself praying more often.
On the one hand it's the ultimate in "de-development." But on the other it's a testament to Gazan ingenuity which has somehow been undimmed by three bloody weeks of war and two years of total economic blockade.
Certainly there is no prouder home-owner in southern Gaza than Jihad al Shaer, as he sits on his palm-lined verandah looking out on his desert garden, its path neatly fenced with half buried tyres, and already blooming with water melon, tomatoes and aubergines. But it's the three-room family house itself which he completed within weeks of the end of Israel's Operation Cast Lead in January that is the source of his pride. It's built almost entirely with mud.
Mr Al Shaer, 36, first became interested in the multi-millennium-old technique of building mud houses when he visited Bangladesh during a religious trip in the 1990s. "This was what our ancestors did before us," he says. "But I never thought I would be doing it myself." Last year, when his parental home, in a town whose chronic housing shortage is compounded by the relentless demolitions along the border with Egypt during nine years of conflict, became too overcrowded, he realised he needed somewhere else to live. Money was in short supply and cement, which Israel has not allowed into Gaza since Hamas seized full control by force in June 2007, unaffordable. But thanks to the multiplication of smuggling tunnels under the border, mud was abundant. It was also free apart from the £32 a truckload it cost to transport it to his 300 square metres of land on what was, until 2005, the Israeli settlement of Morag. Using a shoe box to mould mud, sand and water bricks strengthened with corn husk straw, leaving them to dry for three days, and making a timber roof frame, allowed him to install his wife, his four daughters and infant son in a new house for around $3,000 (£1,877) compared with the $25,000 for conventional construction. Pausing only for the three weeks of war, when bombing made it too dangerous to make the four- kilometre journey from his home, he completed the job in just two months.
Mr Al Shaer is delighted with his low-energy methods. "This is natural, not man-made," he says. "God has created this mud so people can live. There is no technology. This will be an alternative way for people to survive". But his financial incentive to go green also tells you something about how the siege of Gaza has been more effective in hurting the legitimate economy than Hamas, widely believed to be taking a cut from the tunnel economy.
Experts from the Hamas de facto government have been to Mr Al Shaer's house to see whether it could be a model for the huge task of post-war reconstruction. That task – of which rebuilding the 4,000 multiple-occupied homes totally destroyed by Israel's military operation is only a part – has yet to begin because of the Israeli-imposed blockade on all building materials, even glass. But it may not be as easy as that. With a wife and seven children living in three storerooms, Mr Al Shaer's friend Nidal Eid is desperate to complete his own mud house, but he cannot afford increasingly scarce timber for the roof frame, which has now shot up from £192 last year to around £960.
Mr Eid was inspired to follow Mr Al Shaer's example because he lived for 20 years in his parents' mud home in the coastal Sinai town of El Arish. Even though he had to skimp on straw because that has gone up to £4.80 a sack, he is convinced it will be sturdy enough to withstand rain and war. After all, he says "an F16 can destroy a house made of stone." For the blockade which has stopped his wood, "I have to blame the occupation [Israel]" But he adds: "And the Gaza government, because they are not making an agreement with the other factions. If there was a unity government, there would be no siege."
Mr Eid says that he is now thinking of leaving Gaza if it becomes possible. "I want co-operation with Israel but Israel won't accept that," he says. "We just want to live like other people in the rest of the world." Mr al Shaer, agrees, arguing that his mud house is a symbol. "This shows we can live in a simple way," he says. "We are Palestinians, not terrorists or beggars. We don't need outside support, just open borders."
Retailers including UK supermarkets may be at risk of prosecution for misleading consumers by selling goods from the Palestinian Territories under the label "West Bank", lawyers have warned.
Fruit, wine and cosmetics originating from illegal Israeli settlements are among the goods that lawyers representing Palestinian interests argue are regularly being wrongly labelled, so that buyers might conclude they are actually produced by Palestinians. In a separate issue, they say illegal settlements are also wrongly benefiting from preferential trade agreements with Israel, which are meant only for goods from inside its pre-1967 borders.
"The use of the expression 'West Bank' may in many cases fail to give the consumer the full picture," said barrister Kieron Beal from Matrix Chambers. He added that in other cases, "where goods have come from the occupied Palestinian Territories they should not be labelled as having their place of origin as Israel".
The warnings come as government proposals for implementing new EU rules on product labelling, which make it illegal to deceive consumers, are expected within a month. Departments including the Office of Fair Trading, the Department for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs, and HM Revenue and Customs (HMRC) have been grappling with the issue. Under UK law it is already illegal to present food products in a way which is "likely to mislead", while European rules include strict measures requiring accurate "country of origin" information to be given.
Concerns about consumers being misled have been compounded by claims that Israeli exporters have benefited from preferential trading terms that allow goods from inside Israel's pre-1967 borders exemption from import duties.
"It is a breach of the agreement for settlement goods to be imported as Israeli products getting preferential tariffs," said Liberal Democrat MEP Sarah Ludford. "The labelling of herbs sold as 'West Bank' [for example] seems to me such an abuse. It is up to UK customs authorities to enforce the origin rules."
"[Officials] should consider referring the matter to the anti-fraud office of the European commission," said Sarah Macsherry, a lawyer at Christian Khan solicitors and member of Lawyers for Palestinian Human Rights, a UK-based group.
HMRC denied that goods from the Palestinian Territories could take advantage of the system. "Any claim to Israeli preference which is accompanied by a proof of preferential origin indicating production [in a location] brought under Israeli administration since 1967 is immediately refused," a spokesman said.
But officials are concerned about the issue. "The department is aware ... that the location shown on the proof of origin may be that of a head office in Israel, when the goods concerned may have originated in a settlement," HMRC said.
It's reality TV, but not as we know it. While we have been gripped by the rise and fall of Susan Boyle on Britain's Got Talent, viewers in Qatar are tuning in to Stars of Science, a new reality show beamed across the Arab world, where brainy youngsters compete to produce the best invention.
Among the hopefuls is Hashem al-Sada, a 22-year-old Qatari who is not a star on YouTube, but has devised a tent fitted with solar panels for electricity generation. The show has deliberately eschewed the cruelty of booting out losing candidates: instead, they are invited to team up with successful competitors.
Stars of Science encapsulates the huge faith Qatar puts in research and innovation; the contrast between it and our version of reality TV also says something about the arrogance of assuming western cultural values are automatically superior, though that's another story.
It is not just the TV that is different in Doha. Flying from a downbeat London into the vast, pristine international air terminal is like arriving in another world. The commercial property market in the UK is on its knees, but in the West Bay business district gleaming towers are springing up in the blistering 50C heat. They bear witness to the determination to reduce Qatar's dependence on oil and gas by building a sort of Canary Wharf in the desert - only without the excessive bonuses and the ruinous risk-taking.
While Gordon Brown's grip on government has been weakened by the crunch and the MPs' expenses scandal, the Emir of Qatar, Sheikh Hamad Bin Khalifa al-Thani, does not have to deal with the inconvenience of an electorate and has been able to press quietly ahead with plans to diversify the economy.
Dr Tidu Maini is executive chairman of the Qatar Science and Technology Park, set up to commercialise research in energy, the environment, healthcare and IT; he recently established an experimental facility with Qatari company GreenGulf to study solar-to-electricity conversion methods. "Instead of putting our money into a solar company in the UK or Germany, we are investing in our own country," he says. "There is nobody doing what we are doing in a comprehensive and strategic way."
With a dry smile, he adds: "But it's easy for us because we are a small country and don't have a corrupt parliament."
As Britain remains in recession, Qatar's per capita income has crossed the $70,000 (£43,000) a head mark, making it one of the wealthiest nations in the world. The Qatar Central Bank estimates growth of 7-9% for this year; the IMF predicts growth of 15-18%. Whatever: these are figures Alistair Darling would give his second home for.
Dubai, which has little in the way of oil and gas, may have gone through a highly leveraged boom and bust (see below), but Qatar is in a very different position.
It is currently running a small budget deficit - the first for nearly a decade - because oil prices have been low, although if they show a sustained improvement, that will be eradicated by the end of the fiscal year. But it has a good credit rating, and, most important, it has about 90 years' worth of oil reserves and more than 200 years of gas production. Not that there is any schadenfreude at Dubai's downfall; the feeling is that the whole region will have to support Dubai for the sake of collective credibility.
Neither have the Qataris got too overwrought about the recent rise in the oil price to a six-month high above $67 a barrel, which has led some commentators to speculate about a resurgence of the petro-powers. Opec, the oil producers' cartel, wants to see the price stabilise at around $75 a barrel, which it reckons is the level needed to ensure investment in new supplies. Whether or not that pans out, the Qataris are interested in moving beyond petro-power and rebasing their economy so they are not hostage to a volatile oil price.
Ahmad Anani, a partner in the Al-Tamimi law firm in Doha, says: "I don't think Qatar perceives itself as a petro-power in the conventional sense ... There is no interest in flexing their muscles like Vladimir Putin, or in blowing money in Mayfair casinos. They are using the money to develop the country."
Qatar has been cushioned from the global downturn by its position as the world's leading exporter of liquefied natural gas (LNG) - gas that has been turned into liquid form, making it easier to ship around the world. The UK is a big customer: the Queen and the Emir opened a new LNG terminal in Milford Haven last month. But despite the fact that LNG is a superb resource, the Qataris see no reason to rest on their laurels.
Phillip Thorpe, chairman and chief executive of the Qatar Financial Centre (QFC) Regulatory Authority, says: "Whether oil is at a sustainable level is anyone's guess. The real point is that there has been a maturity around the way the government is approaching oil and gas revenue. It is a wonderful bounty today, but what about tomorrow? There are decades of gas reserves and you would think it's a good reason to go to the beach - but that is not future-proofing the economy."
Thorpe is a key player in one form of future-proofing: the push to turn Doha into a regional financial centre - a Switzerland in the sand, with insurance and wealth management as major elements.
The QFC's headquarters, where Thorpe has his offices, are in a building that is only a few years old - though that makes it practically an ancient monument by the standards of West Bay. It started in 2005; now it has 113 staff and licensed its 100th institution at the end of last year, a Qatari full-service Islamic bank. Next month it will launch Qatar Insurance Services, a system for processing and trading between insurers and reinsurers, with 17 firms as strategic partners.
Another major initiative is the setting up of the Qatar Finance and Business Academy, to try to ensure there are enough well-trained local staff to run a 21st-century financial centre.
Jon Morton, QFC's director for financial development and a former deputy principal of Henley Management College, says: "We need to concentrate on middle-management talent - things like the English language, and a focus on the customer, not an internal focus."
The structure and the skills of the population are a serious challenge. Of the 1.5 million residents, only around 250,000 or so are native Qataris; the rest are expats. It means very few people will be supporting what could be a very large and turbocharged economic engine. Mohamad Moabi, assistant general manager with Qatar National Bank, says: "The challenge is to develop citizens for a post-oil economy. A knowledge-based economy is very important."
To that end, education is free from kindergarten to university level. The seriousness of the commitment to learning is manifest in Education City, a 14 sq km development on the outskirts of Doha that houses not only schools but outposts of leading US universities such as Cornell, Georgetown and Carnegie Mellon. As one British expat sighs: "If my kids were Qatari citizens, all my worries about education would be over."
Dr Mohamed Fathy Saoud, president of the Qatar Foundation, which backs Education City, says: "Human resources are more important than oil and gas resources. We are bringing one of the brightest facets of western civilisation to the region: the top universities. If you talk to people on the street they will be opposed to what the US and the UK did in Iraq, but this project is saying 'look beyond that to what these countries have contributed to education and research'."
The sheer pace of economic development is throwing up social and cultural issues. One is the situation of women. The Emir's consort, Sheikha Mozah, plays a highly visible role in a region where royal wives until recently were rarely seen and certainly never heard.
While it is a deeply conservative society, Qatari women can vote, drive and play a full part in the workplace: headscarves are a frequent sight, but the dress code for women is not as strict as in Saudi. Dr Sheikha Abdulla al-Misnad, president of Qatar University, says about half her staff and 70% of her students are women. "We are very proud of how well our young women are doing, but there is an issue about our young men. Girls work hard and get better grades in high school, while young men drop out." Girls have been high achievers partly because of cultural expectations, she adds.
"Society expects women to work in a safe and professional environment, in a high status job, not to be in low-skill jobs and this is part of the reason why they are they are so determined to succeed academically. It is creating social problems because women are finding their marriage suitors are less qualified.
"The number of single women is increasing. It is difficult for lots of young professional women to find a husband. People don't have taboos about women in education because when education started in Qatar it started for both men and women from the outset, unlike many universities in the West which had been were exclusively for men for decades before women were granted access to higher education."
None the less, the divide may be creating social tensions simply because the women are finding many eligible bachelors less qualified than they are. While the Qataris are keen to show visitors their sunlit uplands, one does have a sense of a reserved, multi-layered, complex society where difficult topics are not discussed, particularly with western journalists.
Qatar has been keen to establish itself as the focal point of the new Arab media: its flagship broadcaster is Al-Jazeera, founded in 1996 and regulated by the UK's Ofcom in the hope of fending off accusations of bias, and the Doha Centre for Media Freedom was set up last year.
Participants don't pull punches in the Doha Debates, a forum for free speech tackling the region's thorniest issues. In the most recent, the vote was in favour of letting Muslim women marry men of their choice. However, the media has a deferential air and the line is that the press should be free, but "respectful".
Thorpe, who was pushed out of his job as head of the Dubai financial regulator after objecting to interference from above, says he is able to operate in Qatar without fear or favour: "The message being sent out by the Emir and the government is that everyone has to abide by the rules."
But it's important to remember who makes the rules. The Emir, who deposed his father in a bloodless coup in 1995, may be an enlightened monarch who has moved towards democracy, but there is no doubt who is in charge.
The credit crunch has led to greater questioning of the western economic and social model. As Moabi says: "Excessive risk-taking and innovation in financial products really hurt the financial system ... Who would have thought that GM would be filing for bankruptcy? We don't have MPs abusing expenses, or Madoffs. Our image of western people is not tarnished, but our image of the system is."
Like the UK, Qatar is a small nation punching above its weight. Like the UK, it wants to become a knowledge-based economy. Like Tony Blair, it has a leader who believes in education, education, education. Perhaps - unlike the UK, which failed to husband its oil wealth - it will make wise use of its windfall.
When Maha al-Sudairi's representative arrived at a Paris boutique bearing a vast order for top-of-the-range lingerie, payment to follow, the owner did not hesitate.
As well as being a valued customer for eight years, the Saudi princess is married to Naif bin Abdulaziz, the country's interior minister and one of the most senior members of a royal family not known for struggling to pay bills, even ones for €70,000 (£60,000) in undergarments.
But, more than a year later, Jamila Boushaba, who runs the O Caprices De Lili store, says she is still waiting for her money – as, it is reported, are a whole series of luxury shops and hotels dotted around the French capital's most exclusive arrondissements.
The princess's creditors reportedly also include the fashion chain Dior, jewellery outlets Chaumet and Victoria Casal, and at least one luxury hotel. She is currently holed up inside a suite at the George V, one of Paris's finest hotels, owned by her nephew, Prince Alwaleed.
The story emerged after Boushaba, frustrated at endless broken promises for payment, went to the press to try to shame her customer into settling her bill. The boutique, one of the most upmarket lingerie shops in Paris, is opposite the George V and was regularly frequented by Sudairi and her family. "She was a customer for eight years, and a very good customer. She always paid on time," Boushaba told the Guardian.
The problems reportedly began a day after the princess's staff removed the dozens of bags of undergarments to the George V on 1 June last year. "I went to the hotel the next day to collect the payment, as usual. I was kept waiting for hours and then told they would drop it into the shop the next day. I waited and they never came," added Boushaba.
Thus began weeks of calls to the princess's suite ("It was always, 'Tomorrow, we'll pay tomorrow'") before Boushaba managed to see the Saudi ambassador, who said he could do nothing. She then talked her way into an audience with a visiting envoy from the Saudi royal family. The response? "He just told me, 'I'm afraid we can't go around settling bills for the princess's knickers.'"
With bailiffs' letters ignored – the princess enjoys diplomatic immunity – Boushaba says she is running out of options: "It's €70,000. It's nothing to them but it's a lot of money to me. We're not Chanel, we're not one of the big chains. There's just one shop, me and two members of staff. It's put me in big trouble.
"When I called last one of her staff asked why I went to the media. I said it was to get my money. He replied: 'What, you've caused all this trouble and you still want your money?'"
According to French newspapers, up to 30 businesses are in the same boat, among them the sumptuous Hotel Crillon, where the princess reportedly based herself before decamping, bill unpaid, to the George V. The Crillon refused to comment.
Another disgruntled shopowner is Jacky Giami, proprietor of Key Largo, which sells extremely upmarket leisure clothes such as €600 jogging trousers. After the princess's relatives stripped his shop of €140,000 of stock – 7% of his annual turnover – and then failed to pay the bill, Giami spends his days waiting at the bar of the George V in the hope of seeing a member of her entourage to confront.
"We know the family well – they're in Paris a lot. It's not the kind of customer where you ask for a deposit, or to see a piece of identity," he told Le Parisien.
