Saudi Arabia Withstood Arab World 'Recession' Period, Says Abdullah al-Moallemi

Seminar with former ambassador Abdullah al-Moallemi at the
Riyadh International Book Fair. (RIBF)
Seminar with former ambassador Abdullah al-Moallemi at the Riyadh International Book Fair. (RIBF)
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Saudi Arabia Withstood Arab World 'Recession' Period, Says Abdullah al-Moallemi

Seminar with former ambassador Abdullah al-Moallemi at the
Riyadh International Book Fair. (RIBF)
Seminar with former ambassador Abdullah al-Moallemi at the Riyadh International Book Fair. (RIBF)

Former Saudi Ambassador and Diplomat Abdullah al-Moallemi said his 12-year service as Saudi Arabia’s permanent representative to the UN coincided with one of the hardest phases in the Arab region.

Moallemi highlighted that what happened in 2011 in the Arab region was a recession of the economic, cultural, and social standards, and that Saudi Arabia stood steadfast to prove its wise vision on maintaining the region’s stability and overcoming what he described as the Arab world "recession period”, being a role model for Arab citizens everywhere.

The former diplomat said he was delighted to represent the kingdom in major international platforms, using his speech, dialogue, and argument skills to express the Saudi point of view. “It was a unique and rich experience that still affects me even after concluding this chapter of my diplomatic journey,” he explained.

During a seminar on “Diplomacy Life” at the Riyadh International Book Fair, Moallemi recalled with his host, journalist Hadi al-Fakih, many situations and moments from his academic journey in Oregon, US, his diplomatic missions, and his 10-year service as Saudi Arabia’s representative to the UN.

“I am a soldier of the Custodian of the Two Holy Mosques, Salman bin Abdulaziz and his Crown Prince, Mohammed bin Salman, and I will serve this dear country in every position,” he assured.

Moallemi also recalled his childhood in Al Qunfudhah province, where he was born. “My mother had a great influence in my life. I learned to read and write from my father, but my mother’s passion of culture and science drove her children to achieve high academic ranks,” he said. “My mother was born in Al-Dara village, in the suburbs of Abha. While my father was preoccupied with his work in the army, she dedicated her time to teach, motivate, and train us for life. Although he was an army man, my father was way more diplomatic than my mother, who was known for her firmness, but they were both on the same page when it comes to the importance of reading and education.”

The former diplomat revealed that he’s working on a book featuring his memoirs and memories from his academic and professional journeys. Dubbed “Soldier and Son of a Soldier in International Diplomacy”, the book will be released in November, and will be available for discussion in the next edition of RIBF.

Moallemi recalled that when he was asked about his wishes as a child, his answer was unfamiliar, always saying that he wants to become an ambassador. Years later, he fulfilled the dream and became an ambassador of Saudi Arabia to Belgium, the European Union, the NATO, Luxembourg, and then to the UN, the dream of every diplomat.

“I was delighted with this opportunity, and with the trust of the Saudi leadership, being selected by Prince Saud Al Faisal to represent my country for 12 year in the United Nations. Today, I feel relieved because I successfully accomplished my mission and left the responsibility for the best diplomats after me,” he said.

Moallemi also recalled several encounters he had with late Foreign Minister, Prince Saud Al Faisal, and how he asked him for advice in the beginning of his diplomatic mission.



In Beirut, a Photographer's Frozen Moments Slow Down Time and Allow the Contemplation of Destruction

A bomb dropped from an Israeli jet hits a building in Ghobeiri, Beirut, Lebanon, Tuesday, October 22, 2024. (AP Photo/ Bilal Hussein)
A bomb dropped from an Israeli jet hits a building in Ghobeiri, Beirut, Lebanon, Tuesday, October 22, 2024. (AP Photo/ Bilal Hussein)
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In Beirut, a Photographer's Frozen Moments Slow Down Time and Allow the Contemplation of Destruction

A bomb dropped from an Israeli jet hits a building in Ghobeiri, Beirut, Lebanon, Tuesday, October 22, 2024. (AP Photo/ Bilal Hussein)
A bomb dropped from an Israeli jet hits a building in Ghobeiri, Beirut, Lebanon, Tuesday, October 22, 2024. (AP Photo/ Bilal Hussein)

We watch video after video, consuming the world on our handheld devices in bites of two minutes, one minute, 30 seconds, 15. We turn to moving pictures — “film” — because it comes the closest to approximating the world that we see and experience. This is, after all, 2024, and video in our pocket — ours, others', everyone's — has become our birthright.
But sometimes — even in this era of live video always rolling, always recording, always capturing — sometimes the frozen moment can enter the eye like nothing else. And in the process, it can tell a larger story that echoes long after the moment was captured. That's what happened this past week in Beirut, through the camera lens of Associated Press photographer Bilal Hussein and the photographs he captured.
When Hussein set up his camera outside an evacuated Beirut apartment building Tuesday after Israel announced it would be targeted as part of military operations against Hezbollah, he had one goal in mind — only one. "All I thought of," he says, “was photographing the missile while it was coming down.”
He found a safe spot. He ensured a good angle. He wasn't stressed, he said; like many photographers who work in such environments, he had been in situations like this one before. He was ready.
When the attack came — a bomb, not a missile in the end — Hussein swung into action. And, unsurprisingly for a professional who has been doing this work for two decades, he did exactly what he set out to do.
Time slowed down
The sequence of images he made bursts with the explosive energy of its subject matter.
In one frame, the bomb hangs there, a weird and obtrusive interloper in the scene. It is not yet noticed by anyone around it, ready to bring its destruction to a building that, in moments, will no longer exist. The building's balconies, a split-second from nonexistence, are devoid of people as the bomb finds its mark.
These are the kind of moments that video, rolling at the speed of life or even in slow motion, cannot capture in the same way. A photo holds us in the scene, stops time, invites a viewer to take the most chaotic of events and break it down, looking around and noticing things in a strangely silent way that actual life could not.
In another frame, one that happened micro moments after the first, the building is in the process of exploding. Let's repeat that for effect, since even as recently as a couple generations ago photographs like this were rare: in the process of exploding.
Pieces of building are shooting out in all directions, in high velocity — in real life. But in the image they are frozen, outward bound, hanging in space awaiting the next seconds of their dissolution — just like the bomb that displaced them was doing milliseconds before. And in that, a contemplation of the destruction — and the people it was visited upon — becomes possible.
Tech gives us new prisms to see the world
The technology to grab so many images in the course of little more than one second — and do it in such clarity and high resolution — is barely a generation old.
So to see these “stills,” as journalists call them, come together to paint a picture of an event is a combination of artistry, intrepidity and technology — an exercise in freezing time, and in giving people the opportunity to contemplate for minutes, even hours, what took place in mere seconds. This holds true for positive things that the camera captures — and for visitations of violence like this one as well.
Photography is random access. We, the viewers of it, choose how to see it, process it, digest it. We go backward and forward in time, at will. We control the pace and the speed at which dizzying images hurtle at us. And in that process, something unusual for this era emerges: a bit of time to think.
That, among many other things, is the enduring power of the still image in a moving-picture world — and the power of what Bilal Hussein captured on that clear, sunny day in Beirut.