Mick Hartley

Tom Chessyre in the Critic reviews Rebecca Lowe's forthcoming book The Slow Road to Tehran: A Revelatory Bike Ride through Europe and the Middle East. Lowe spent a year in 2015 cycling from London to Tehran. She travelled through Europe to Turkey, Lebanon, Jordan, Egypt, Sudan, the Gulf and finally to Iran. No Israel, then. Well of course not.

Chessyre loved the book:

The maltreatment of women across the Middle East — forced marriages, FGM, marital abuse (one in three Iranian marriages ends in divorce) — acts as a constant backdrop, with many sad stories related. “Men are doing as they please without consequences,” says one Iranian activist. “And women are used to accepting it.” Another is the bravery of human rights workers, with whom Lowe — thanks to her old job — has good access. Meanwhile, the multiple acts of kindness among those she meets on the road are heart-warming: so many beds for the night, delicious beef stews, kebabs (for which Lowe has a great fondness) and cups of tea proffered, usually free of charge, along the way. The Middle Eastern streak of hospitality runs strong.

This is modern travel writing at its very best, full of vim and vigour, painstakingly researched, laced with wry humour, political (without being too political), adventurous and rich with anecdote. As Lowe checks in her beloved, much dented and repaired bicycle (nicknamed Maud) at Tehran’s airport, I couldn’t help but whisper: bravo!

Maltreatment of women in the Middle East? Who'd have guessed?

And there's this:

After two tough weeks in cold conditions across Turkey — men in remote village cafes are bemused by her arrival (“three dozen stubbly mouths dropped open”) — the rides deliver Lowe into the heart of the Middle East, via a ferry to Lebanon. She spins onwards to grim Syrian and Palestinian refugee camps, where dying from messy overhead electrical cables is common, health centres are dire and living conditions damp. “We’re the forgotten people,” says a young but dead-eyed man in the Palestinian camp at Shatila…..

Meanwhile in Jordan, which Lowe reaches by plane (her bike packed in the hold), there is less wild abandon. She says it “could be described as one giant refugee camp” with so many Palestinian refugees. The capital Amman is “reassuringly stable but lacks spark”, she concludes having talked to an American NGO who tells her life can be “pretty boring” despite its hipster joints. She adds bluntly: “Jordan lacks its own industry and is entirely reliant on aid. That’s why it’s taken in so many refugees: to keep the income flowing.”

I wonder if Lowe asked herself why these Palestinian camps are still there. It's been over 70 years since the foundation of the state of Israel, and what the Palestinians refer to dramatically as the nakba. Why are have they lasted so long – become permanent features of their host countries? No other refugees from the turbulent ethnic cleansings of the 20th century still languish in camps – not India/Pakistan, or the Soviet forced population transfers, or the great dramas of Greek and Turkish ethnic exchanges, and certainly not the Jews forced to flee their homes across the Middle East, from Iraq to Morocco. Nasser talked about Arab nationalism: one culture, one language. Not for the Palestinians, though. They're just pawns in the game of demonising the Zionist entity.

Meanwhile the UN finances it all through UNWRA, which with its staff of over 30,000 people and more than 5.6 million Palestinians registered as refugees, pours money into Gaza and – as we see here – effectively props up the state of Jordan, which now has every incentive to keep the camps going and the UN money pouring in.

Basically, it's a scam.