Because of Israel's abominable behaviour towards Palestinians, most Arabs - myself included - have tended to direct our criticism less on the general situation in the Arab world than we might ordinarily do.

I do not think it is an exaggeration to say, however, that once we start to look at what obtains in the Arab world, most of us are fairly appalled by the over-all condition of mediocrity and galloping degeneration that seem to have become our lot. In all significant fields (except perhaps for cooking) we have declined to the bottom of the heap when it comes to quality of life.

We have become an embarrassment, as much for our powerlessness and hypocrisy (for instance, vis-à-vis the intifada for which the Arab states do next to nothing) as for the abysmally poor social, economic and political conditions that have overtaken every Arab country almost without exception. Illiteracy, poverty, unemployment and un-productivity have increased alarmingly. And whereas the rest of the world seems to be moving in a democratic direction, the Arab world is going the other way, toward even greater degrees of tyranny, autocracy, and mafia-style rule. As a result more and more of us feel that we should no longer keep silent about this. Yet one scarcely knows where to begin in trying to ameliorate the situation, although honesty about what we have allowed to happen to ourselves is a good way to start.

A small number of instances illustrate what I mean more eloquently than lists of facts and figures, all of which, incidentally, would support what I mean here. A short time ago, the Egyptian-American intellectual Saadedin Ibrahim, professor of sociology at the American University of Cairo, and director of the Ibn Khaldun Centre there, was sentenced to seven years prison with hard labour by a state security court. And this after two months of solitary confinement consequent on summary arrest, followed by several months of trial for financial misdemeanour, tarnishing Egypt's image, tampering with the election process, stirring up confessional or sectarian sentiment, as well as being an enemy informer. These are major charges of course, but what seems amazing is that the court rendered its judgment in a matter of hours after hearing evidence for months.

A huge amount of attention has been lavished on the case for obvious reasons. A prominent intellectual had been brought low in a country whose political centrality and size almost guaranteed much commentary and, especially in the liberal West, a great deal of negative judgement against the system that had seemed to be persecuting a man for his independent, if not always widely popular, opinions.

The few Arabs who defended him almost uniformly began by saying that they found his views and his methods distasteful. He was known to favour normalization with Israel, he seemed to prosper financially because of what seemed to be his entrepreneurship, and his ideas in general circulated with more success outside, rather than inside, the Arab world. Still, it was meant to be clear to everyone that an example was being made of him; he therefore suffered unjustly, despite his rather special way of life and success.

What seems to be incontrovertibly abnormal, however, is that he has been systematically punished by the state because of his fame and his criticism of several of the state's policies. The lesson seems to be that if you have the temerity to speak out too much and if you displease the powers that be, you will be severely cut down. In the United States, for example, many commentators on the Ibrahim case fail to point out that America (which is not ruled by emergency decree) is one of the worst offenders when it comes to unfair sentencing (usually affecting non-whites), capital punishment, and a horrible prison system that per capita is the largest and most punitive in the world.

In other words, what Egypt does must be looked at from a perspective that includes so-called civilized countries, many of whose journalists have condemned Ibrahim's treatment without also admitting that his case is not unique, neither in the Middle East nor in the West. The case tells us that our rulers hold that no one is immune from their wrath and that citizens should maintain a permanent sense of fear and capitulation when it comes to authority, whether secular or religious. I became dramatically aware of this eight years ago when, after a lecture I gave in London in which I criticized the Arab governments for their abuse of human freedoms, I was summoned by an Arab ambassador to apologize for my remarks.

When I refused even to speak to the man, a friend interceded and arranged for me to have tea with the offended ambassador at my friend's house. What transpired was profoundly revealing. When I repeated my comments, the ambassador lost his temper (he happened also to be a member of the ruling party) and told me in no uncertain terms that, as far as he and his regime were concerned, democracy was little more than AIDS, pornography, and chaos. "We don't want that," he kept repeating with almost insensate rage.

Then I understood that so deep has the authoritarianism in us become that any challenge to it is seen as little short of devilish and therefore unacceptable. Not for nothing have so many people turned to an extremist form of religion as a result of desperation and the absence of hope. As a second instance of what I am describing as a worsening situation, there is the case of the Lebanese journalist Raghida Dergham, a capable Lebanese woman who has represented al-Hayat in New York for several years. A fine reporter and commentator with an excellent reputation in America, she has brought credit to her profession and her country for several years. She has now been indicted for high treason in her country because she attended a public Washington meeting and debated Uri Lubrani, an Israeli Mossad operative who was one of (and perhaps the chief of) the supervisors of the occupation regime in South Lebanon. (Before that he had been Israel's connection with the Shah of Iran).

Dergham's passport has been withdrawn, and if she returns to her country she will immediately be arrested. (Another Lebanese journalist, Samir Kassir, has had his citizenship revoked because something he wrote seems to have angered the authorities).

The Dergham case is an amazing act of perversity that suggests how far conceptions of the "crime" of "normalization" - a stupid concept when overused either to divert attention from Arab indifference to the Palestinians or to attack other Arabs or to promote ignorance - can be taken. In the first place, Dergham's debate with Lubrani was held in public, in the United States. There was nothing secret about it, and it was nothing more than a debate, and certainly not a negotiation. To expect a normal functioning citizen to obey laws that forbid even mentioning Israel's name is mindless, to say the least. Besides, every Arab government that I know of has had dealings with Israel, secret or open. The whole world, and especially Israel's Palestinian victims, knows that Israel, its army, agents, police and society exist: what earthly use is there in pretending that it doesn't?

At issue is the right to free thought and expression, and underlying that, the right to be free of ludicrously enacted restrictions against individual freedom. Both the cases I have cited were brought against well-known personalities who have the resources and connections to draw attention to what was so unjustly done to them.

Most of us live in fear of such a fate, and this is why many intellectuals keep silent or thank their lucky stars that what has happened to Saad Ibrahim and Raghida Dergham hasn't happened to them. And certainly these two individuals have been singled out so that an example could be made of their humiliation and punishment. Foolishly, however, other intellectuals also hope that if they behave, join the chorus of condemnation, and be careful to say only the "right" things, they will not suffer a similar fate.

The other day I met a young Iraqi Kurd who had just escaped from his country. There, he told me, if someone wanted to do you harm, you could be reported to the police as an enemy of the state: the likelihood is that you and your family would thereafter just disappear. Of how many countries in the world today is this true, and how many of them are Arab? I am too embarrassed to ask.

As the Arab world spins into further incoherence and shame, it is up to everyone of us to speak up against these terrible abuses of power. No one is safe unless every citizen protests what in effect is a reversion to medieval practices of autocracy. If we accuse Israel of what it has done to the Palestinians, we must be willing to apply exactly the same standards of behaviour to our own countries.

This norm is as true for the American as it is for the Arab and the Israeli intellectual, who must criticize human rights abuses from a universal point of view, not simply when they occur within the domain of an officially designated enemy. Our own cause is strengthened when we take positions that can be applied to all situations, without conditions like saying "I disagree with his views, but" as a way of lessening the difficulty and the onus of speaking out. The truth is that, as Arabs, all we have left now is the power of speaking out, and unless we exercise that right, the slide into terminal degeneration cannot ever be stopped. The hour is very late.

Edward W. Said, 2001