I would like to preface this blog post with two notes: the fact that my legal name is Al-Hassan Al-Shaibani and that I am of a mixed background (Iraqi-Czech). 

Leading up to 2003, a decade-long dance of political and economical sanctions imposed on Iraq included a ban on all international flights. The resulting passageway between Iraq and the remaining world was a long stretch of barren highway stitched onto the northeastern corner of the Hejaz desert towards Jordan. Unlike many geopolitical borders whose map lines follow rivers, mountain ranges or other physical features, the Sykes-Picot tessellation of the Middle East in the early 20^th century carved unnaturally straight lines to define nationhood (it is often joked that they used a ruler to divide up a map of the Middle East after World War I). In addition to a political and geographical margin, the Iraqi-Jordanian border crossing has come to inhabit a cultural and identity hyphen of those born in Iraq under the sanctions.

Baptized the “Karamah” border crossing in Jordan, the Iraqi name for the arid corridor leading in and out of the country is “Trebil.” This word is an anglicized version of the Arabic name, which ironically is a bastardization of the English word “Trouble.” Back in the early 20th century, the colonial British presence in Iraq gave that location the nickname “Trouble” to signify the harrowing paths crossed by desert nomads and the difficulty of travelling to the emirate trans-Jordania. “Trouble” was Arabicized to Trebil and then re-translated to English as “Trebil.” Decades later, the history of the name came to announce the stringent travel limitations imposed on Iraqis and soon became part of the cultural memory.

In Diamond Grill, Fred Wah writes, “Maps don’t have beginnings, just edges.” I find this statement inapplicable to Trebil; here, the man-made borders and names do have a beginning which play a role in shaping, re-shaping and defining a populace. Soon enough, Trebil was a familiar inhabitant of Iraqi daily talk. The difficulty of successfully or easily passing through that border crossing is a tale too common amongst those living in Iraq during the sanctions of the 90s and early 2000s.

It appears that you cannot locate or describe Trebil without referring to an in betweenness or a hyphen. It is so entrenched in the identity of this location that it seems to embody the hyphen. Trebil was, and to some extent still is, a keystone of Iraqi identity and a bridge to everything outside.

Many of us are familiar with the concept of “frape” – the portmanteau used to describe the act of altering someone’s information or posting messages in a person’s profile on a social media platform without their consent. While this gag is often juvenile and inappropriate, it has led to some serious and damaging consequences – insofar as being declared a crime in Ireland!

Charly Irons, a student teacher at Sheffield Hallam University, has written a paper on this concept and calls it “(anti)social networking” where she delves into the anthropological exigence of “fraping”. However, what is interesting here is the underlying, and sometimes unconsidered, anthropomorphism of Facebook. Using such a charged word as “rape” and affiliating it with Facebook is problematic in many ways but also works to increase the treatment of this corporation as a person. Although it is another individual that  conducts the “frape”, it is enacted through Facebook and therefore, this nonhuman entity is attributed as performing this inhumane act.

The use of the word “frape” seeps beyond the colloquial usage and points to our perception of Facebook. The recent and heated issue of “corporate personhood” in the United States also applies to the mega social networking platform. Here, the idea that a corporation is legally viewed as an individual beckons both criticisms and praise; the business can be sued and prosecuted as an individual but can also claim freedom of speech to lobby and advertise. There have been several blogs, articles, papers and videos already made around this issue. Since corporations already enjoy an immense amount of power, their recognition as persons has led to a clever reinterpretation of the American flag here:

However, the question remains, what is the responsibility of Facebook to its users under this personification? Eli Pariser points to the masturbatory social media algorithms that encapsulate us into a heightened sense of self-importance by tailoring our newsfeeds to our viewpoints and predicted interests. Keeping this in mind, does Facebook have an obligation to be our quasi-therapist? Should Facebook detect negative moods or markers of depression in our posts to notify someone or change our newsfeed to a more positive one? The New York Times wrote about the difficulty of extracting mental health warning signs from melodramatic teenage posts but also noted how Facebook began to work with the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline in 2007. In this case, is Facebook responsible and liable for reporting disturbing posts?

As we post more photos, status updates, timeline events and our thoughts on Facebook, it is interesting to see our expressions co-produced with this corporation that is increasingly being viewed and treated as a person. The delineation between our rights and those of Facebook is continually being challenged and therefore, a new ethos ought to be established.

Al Shaibani