Here are a couple folk songs I'm very happy with that I recorded with my friend Jon down at the Ramona Music Center. For them, I collected a bunch of musicians, including Matt Renner on drums, Daven Tyler on keyboard and bass, Adrian Macias on guitar and vocals, and the incredible Jon Hasz on slide guitar. I'm super stoked on these, and you can download them if you like by clicking the downward facing arrow on the right side of the player!
Lonely Pines by tmhfband
Smile by tmhfband
(This song appeared on a Ramona Music Compilation disc put out by Ramona Music Center.)
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
The Risk Society and Apocalypticism
Today's world can probably be best described as risky. Regardless of your position on global warming - whether you carry a sort of apocalypticism, you just don't accept the evidence, or whether you've joined the growing trend of accepting global warming as a simple fact and carrying on as usual (see The New York Times' "The Greening of Greenland" and it's celebration of the opportunities global warming will unearth) - humans are being understood more and more as a geological force involved in risky behavior. That is, the Holocene has given way to the Anthropocene, an epoch in which humans have become a natural condition. Aside from existing within an ecosystem, we also have a profound impact on the ecosystem which will have lasting effects for ourselves and so many other species.
German sociologist Ulrich Beck and English sociologist Anthony Giddens dubbed modern society a 'risk society', meaning that we are increasingly involved in low probability - high consequence risks. That is, our interactions with nature are becoming increasingly irreversible and their effects are not entirely known as they are implemented. They are implemented in hopes of gaining something for some interested party (or parties) and we work to understand their effects once we've gone too far. Perhaps the most alarming thing about such manufactured risks is the lack of accountability. We can't simply point the finger at some Big Other such as Fate, a Government, or God. With multi-national corporations looming and no dominating world governmental regulatory body making decisions, we live in a world where nobody is in charge. Take synthetic biology: while we in the United States debate the ethics of stem cell research and set limitations to the degree to which we can intervene into the human genome, China has already completed the fourth human genome to be sequenced and is planning to use it to solve problems related to Chinese-specific genetic diseases. That is, as Slavoj Zizek notes, "they are pressing ahead without restraint, in a model example of smooth co-operation between state agencies (such as their Academy of Sciences) and private capital" (341). The Chinese are adding to the plethora of manufactured risks (remember, low probability, but high consequence) already existing in the world, and there is nobody to stop them (as there is nobody to stop BP from drilling in the ocean and nobody can force Chevron to clean up their mess in Ecuador's Rainforest). We are then in the situation of falling behind China in the development of synthetic biology which is bad for business and our standing as a world leader. When assessing possible risks associated with synthetic biology, consider that, historically, inventions are always presented as a brilliant way to solve a debilitating disease or a legitimate social problem, but they then work their way into other fields with potentially devastating results such as developments in biological warfare. We are in that old ethical dilemma of: if we don't act without restraint, someone else will, so my actions won't make a difference in the world anyways. (If China continues unabated in manipulating the human genome, won't we fall behind? And if, God forbid, they do apply their research to biological warfare, well, we can't fall behind them! We must put our ethical concerns on the shelf because there is nobody in charge to regulate this globally.)
This risk society is responsible for one of the apocalyptic visions today, which Zizek terms the "techno-digital-post-human". Alongside Judeo-Christian-Islamo fundamentalism, which purports the End of Days, and New Age apocalypticism which purports a coming shift in 'cosmic awareness', the techno-digital-post-human sees the human species as evolving into a 'post-human' which will combine the physical world and the virtual world together. Zizek writes, "the alternative 'either physical reality or the virtual screen world' is replaced by a direct interpenetration of the two" (338). He's not here talking merely of our increasing dependence on technology for understanding the world (a coming age when the world will be one giant touch-screen, already being developed by the MIT Media Lab), but literally an age when, through synthetic biology, living organisms will have implanted prosthesis which will help govern their self-experience. This will be the 'post-human'.
Zizek notes that in most post-human apocalyptic fantasies, as the one famously depicted in Blade Runner, transhumanist writers still assume that there will remain in such a world a free autonomous individual, such as Deckard, hunting down the evil replicants. But a more nuanced trans-human vision would consider how the very definition of humanity would be redefined in such a world. With the potential of enhancing lifespans and improving memory, concentration, and other human capacities, one must consider to what extent an enhanced human being's nature will change and they will stop being 'human' (at least in the way we understand that term now). Consider how such a world would have no need for Nietzsche's 'overman', a commonly assumed model for heroic humanity. Zizek writes, "In contrast to Nietzsche's notion of the 'overman' aiming at a 'moral and cultural transcendence' (a select few endowed with strong willpower and great refinement would throw off the shackles of traditional morality and convention, and so rise above the rest of humanity), the transhumanist idea of the 'post-human' aims at a society in which everybody will have access to enhancement technologies" (346). The 'overman', a model of radical autonomy and individuality, will be replaced with the person who can afford enhancement technologies so that they might have power. That is, the autonomous overman who reached from within and found the strength and courage to radically re-imagine their purpose in the world would, in the trans-human world, save up enough money to purchase a prosthetic implant that would do that work for them. It's not entirely clear that the two can co-exist. Zizek writes, "Both transhumanists and their critics unproblematically cling to the standard notion of a free autonomous individual - the difference is that transhumanists simply assume that it will survive the passage into the post-human era, while their critics see post-humanity as a threat to be resisted" (347).
A book I read several months ago, written by Margaret Atwood, provides an example of such a techno-digital-post-human apocalyptic vision. Oryx and Crake, set in a dreary future following the last man on earth, named "Snowman", provides a grim look at a world gone awry by highly risky synthetic biology. It's a world consisting of human clones that, true to the nuanced understanding of the transhuman, are not what we'd call 'human' by today's understanding. Also are lurking predators, like 'pigoons' - pigs with bodies shaped like balloons that are bred to provide human organ transplants, and 'wolvogs' - a mix between a dog and a wolf. The highly secretive, profitable, and risky work of companies like OrganInc ends in the low probability but nevertheless possible outbreak of a manufactured virus capable of wiping out the entire human population, and who's vaccine was maliciously destroyed by an evil mastermind company exec. The aftermath leaves Snowman alone amidst surviving post-humans, who he cannot relate to at all. They are the true post-human - engineered, cloned, biologically modified, and Snowman is just a remnant from the past. When he dies, so does humanity. In the end, you'll find in the book a tiny trace of the humanism Zizek criticizes in transhumanism. The reader is left with hope that the human will survive the biogenetic apocalypse when Snowman discovers a small group of ragged humans, but it remains unclear if he will approach them with open arms or murder them to protect the human clones, dubbed 'Crakers'. Ultimately, the logical conclusion of Atwood's vision probably lies less in Snowman and his dying breed, and more in the biologically enhanced Crakers, who are not often talked about because, realistically, we can't relate to them.
The Transhuman apocalyptic vision develops out of the imagination of a risk society. It helps us make sense of the world we live in, and it makes sense that most visions will retain something ultimately human in them. They're written, it seems, with nostalgia. I'll leave the discussion with a quote from Oryx and Crake: "On the eastern horizon there's a greyish haze, lit now with a rosy, deadly glow. Strange how that colour still seems tender. He gazes at it with rapture; there is no other word for it. Rapture. The heart seized, carried away, as if by some large bird of prey. After everything that's happened, how can the world still be so beautiful? Because it is... He takes a few deep breaths, scans the ground below for wildlife, makes his way down from the tree, setting his good foot on the ground first. He checks the inside of his hat, flicks out an ant. Can a single ant be said to be alive, in any meaningful sense of the word, or does it only have relevance in terms of its anthill?" (371).
Atwood, Margaret. Oryx and Crake. New York: Random House, Inc. 2004.
Zizek, Slavoj. Living In The End Times. New York: Verso. 2010.
German sociologist Ulrich Beck and English sociologist Anthony Giddens dubbed modern society a 'risk society', meaning that we are increasingly involved in low probability - high consequence risks. That is, our interactions with nature are becoming increasingly irreversible and their effects are not entirely known as they are implemented. They are implemented in hopes of gaining something for some interested party (or parties) and we work to understand their effects once we've gone too far. Perhaps the most alarming thing about such manufactured risks is the lack of accountability. We can't simply point the finger at some Big Other such as Fate, a Government, or God. With multi-national corporations looming and no dominating world governmental regulatory body making decisions, we live in a world where nobody is in charge. Take synthetic biology: while we in the United States debate the ethics of stem cell research and set limitations to the degree to which we can intervene into the human genome, China has already completed the fourth human genome to be sequenced and is planning to use it to solve problems related to Chinese-specific genetic diseases. That is, as Slavoj Zizek notes, "they are pressing ahead without restraint, in a model example of smooth co-operation between state agencies (such as their Academy of Sciences) and private capital" (341). The Chinese are adding to the plethora of manufactured risks (remember, low probability, but high consequence) already existing in the world, and there is nobody to stop them (as there is nobody to stop BP from drilling in the ocean and nobody can force Chevron to clean up their mess in Ecuador's Rainforest). We are then in the situation of falling behind China in the development of synthetic biology which is bad for business and our standing as a world leader. When assessing possible risks associated with synthetic biology, consider that, historically, inventions are always presented as a brilliant way to solve a debilitating disease or a legitimate social problem, but they then work their way into other fields with potentially devastating results such as developments in biological warfare. We are in that old ethical dilemma of: if we don't act without restraint, someone else will, so my actions won't make a difference in the world anyways. (If China continues unabated in manipulating the human genome, won't we fall behind? And if, God forbid, they do apply their research to biological warfare, well, we can't fall behind them! We must put our ethical concerns on the shelf because there is nobody in charge to regulate this globally.)
This risk society is responsible for one of the apocalyptic visions today, which Zizek terms the "techno-digital-post-human". Alongside Judeo-Christian-Islamo fundamentalism, which purports the End of Days, and New Age apocalypticism which purports a coming shift in 'cosmic awareness', the techno-digital-post-human sees the human species as evolving into a 'post-human' which will combine the physical world and the virtual world together. Zizek writes, "the alternative 'either physical reality or the virtual screen world' is replaced by a direct interpenetration of the two" (338). He's not here talking merely of our increasing dependence on technology for understanding the world (a coming age when the world will be one giant touch-screen, already being developed by the MIT Media Lab), but literally an age when, through synthetic biology, living organisms will have implanted prosthesis which will help govern their self-experience. This will be the 'post-human'.
Zizek notes that in most post-human apocalyptic fantasies, as the one famously depicted in Blade Runner, transhumanist writers still assume that there will remain in such a world a free autonomous individual, such as Deckard, hunting down the evil replicants. But a more nuanced trans-human vision would consider how the very definition of humanity would be redefined in such a world. With the potential of enhancing lifespans and improving memory, concentration, and other human capacities, one must consider to what extent an enhanced human being's nature will change and they will stop being 'human' (at least in the way we understand that term now). Consider how such a world would have no need for Nietzsche's 'overman', a commonly assumed model for heroic humanity. Zizek writes, "In contrast to Nietzsche's notion of the 'overman' aiming at a 'moral and cultural transcendence' (a select few endowed with strong willpower and great refinement would throw off the shackles of traditional morality and convention, and so rise above the rest of humanity), the transhumanist idea of the 'post-human' aims at a society in which everybody will have access to enhancement technologies" (346). The 'overman', a model of radical autonomy and individuality, will be replaced with the person who can afford enhancement technologies so that they might have power. That is, the autonomous overman who reached from within and found the strength and courage to radically re-imagine their purpose in the world would, in the trans-human world, save up enough money to purchase a prosthetic implant that would do that work for them. It's not entirely clear that the two can co-exist. Zizek writes, "Both transhumanists and their critics unproblematically cling to the standard notion of a free autonomous individual - the difference is that transhumanists simply assume that it will survive the passage into the post-human era, while their critics see post-humanity as a threat to be resisted" (347).
A book I read several months ago, written by Margaret Atwood, provides an example of such a techno-digital-post-human apocalyptic vision. Oryx and Crake, set in a dreary future following the last man on earth, named "Snowman", provides a grim look at a world gone awry by highly risky synthetic biology. It's a world consisting of human clones that, true to the nuanced understanding of the transhuman, are not what we'd call 'human' by today's understanding. Also are lurking predators, like 'pigoons' - pigs with bodies shaped like balloons that are bred to provide human organ transplants, and 'wolvogs' - a mix between a dog and a wolf. The highly secretive, profitable, and risky work of companies like OrganInc ends in the low probability but nevertheless possible outbreak of a manufactured virus capable of wiping out the entire human population, and who's vaccine was maliciously destroyed by an evil mastermind company exec. The aftermath leaves Snowman alone amidst surviving post-humans, who he cannot relate to at all. They are the true post-human - engineered, cloned, biologically modified, and Snowman is just a remnant from the past. When he dies, so does humanity. In the end, you'll find in the book a tiny trace of the humanism Zizek criticizes in transhumanism. The reader is left with hope that the human will survive the biogenetic apocalypse when Snowman discovers a small group of ragged humans, but it remains unclear if he will approach them with open arms or murder them to protect the human clones, dubbed 'Crakers'. Ultimately, the logical conclusion of Atwood's vision probably lies less in Snowman and his dying breed, and more in the biologically enhanced Crakers, who are not often talked about because, realistically, we can't relate to them.
The Transhuman apocalyptic vision develops out of the imagination of a risk society. It helps us make sense of the world we live in, and it makes sense that most visions will retain something ultimately human in them. They're written, it seems, with nostalgia. I'll leave the discussion with a quote from Oryx and Crake: "On the eastern horizon there's a greyish haze, lit now with a rosy, deadly glow. Strange how that colour still seems tender. He gazes at it with rapture; there is no other word for it. Rapture. The heart seized, carried away, as if by some large bird of prey. After everything that's happened, how can the world still be so beautiful? Because it is... He takes a few deep breaths, scans the ground below for wildlife, makes his way down from the tree, setting his good foot on the ground first. He checks the inside of his hat, flicks out an ant. Can a single ant be said to be alive, in any meaningful sense of the word, or does it only have relevance in terms of its anthill?" (371).
Atwood, Margaret. Oryx and Crake. New York: Random House, Inc. 2004.
Zizek, Slavoj. Living In The End Times. New York: Verso. 2010.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Outstanding Portland Music!!! The Parson Redheads, Kelli Schaefer, and Pine Language
Last night I went with friends to a show at The Alberta Rose Theater in Portland. The venue is not ideal for acoustics, but great for atmosphere. In front of a giant red curtain, and facing an intimate crowd of eager fans, three fantastic Portland bands played.
The first band was Pine Language. They started out somber, with just lead singer/guitarist Brian Harvey playing a tortured tune with hair in his face. Then the band joined him for a thick electric sound (3 electric guitars!), bass, keyboard, vocals, and drums. At times the band reminded me a lot of Wilco, at times My Morning Jacket, at times neither. They certainly have a unique sound, weaving in and out of cool synth parts and guitar leads that, on very nice occasions, bleed through the wall of noise. These guys have really well thought-out songs. Overall, they can be characterized as orchestral and restrained. They left me wanting more guitar solos, but only because the times that a solo seeped through the mix, it offered amazing relief to the songs. This was their power - they held back, always keeping you on the edge of your seat. This particularly struck me when the lead guitar player switched to a lap-steel, playing slide. When he played distinct notes, it sounded SO GOOD, but he mostly just played chords, sliding gently against the heavy strumming of the two other electric guitars. I wanted more, but if they gave me what I wanted, it probably would have been to their detriment. I think what made it sound SO GOOD was it's rarity. By keeping you wanting, they kept the music interesting and totally indie. They were expressing something personal and didn't pander to the prototypical song. I appreciated this, (although I still wanted more lead work!). It's hard to find Pine Language tracks online, but that shouldn't be the case when they release their upcoming LP. You can download a couple free tracks here.
The second band was Kelli Schaefer, and she was OUTSTANDING! Her music is impassioned, interesting, intense, and highly energetic with band members at times bursting into uncontrollable yells as they convulsed around their instruments. Kelli belted Bjork-inspired cries as she appeared to be on the verge of an emotional breakdown, hammering her white guitar and shaking at the knees. If you want to do yourself a favor, buy her album here! I did, right when I got home! Bands I can liken her to are Florence and the Machine with a bit more grit and Sleater Kinney with a bit less punk and a bit more blues. In the middle of their set, the band put down their instruments and joined Kelli in a three-part harmony that was flawless, dripping from the stage, blowing the mind of every person in the audience. Then her soprano-screaming bass player grabbed a flute and started jamming, and that should give you an indication of the eclectic nature of the band. They were amazing to watch, and I suggest you keep an eye on their tour dates so you won't miss a golden opportunity.
And then the band I came to see: The Parson Redheads. A coworker/friend's brother-in-law was once a founding member of this band when they were emerging from within the Los Angeles folk-rock scene. He invited me to an earlier show they played in Portland, where they've since founded themselves, and I became an immediate fan. They represent well-crafted, catchy folk/rock songs with great guitar licks and lush vocal harmonies. Their laid-back, big-beard-style anthems bring out the 60s hippie in you that you never were. They've been playing a long time together and they have their craft DOWN! You can feel the love in the room as they sing charming songs that celebrate life and relationships.
Here's a great video:
The first band was Pine Language. They started out somber, with just lead singer/guitarist Brian Harvey playing a tortured tune with hair in his face. Then the band joined him for a thick electric sound (3 electric guitars!), bass, keyboard, vocals, and drums. At times the band reminded me a lot of Wilco, at times My Morning Jacket, at times neither. They certainly have a unique sound, weaving in and out of cool synth parts and guitar leads that, on very nice occasions, bleed through the wall of noise. These guys have really well thought-out songs. Overall, they can be characterized as orchestral and restrained. They left me wanting more guitar solos, but only because the times that a solo seeped through the mix, it offered amazing relief to the songs. This was their power - they held back, always keeping you on the edge of your seat. This particularly struck me when the lead guitar player switched to a lap-steel, playing slide. When he played distinct notes, it sounded SO GOOD, but he mostly just played chords, sliding gently against the heavy strumming of the two other electric guitars. I wanted more, but if they gave me what I wanted, it probably would have been to their detriment. I think what made it sound SO GOOD was it's rarity. By keeping you wanting, they kept the music interesting and totally indie. They were expressing something personal and didn't pander to the prototypical song. I appreciated this, (although I still wanted more lead work!). It's hard to find Pine Language tracks online, but that shouldn't be the case when they release their upcoming LP. You can download a couple free tracks here.
The second band was Kelli Schaefer, and she was OUTSTANDING! Her music is impassioned, interesting, intense, and highly energetic with band members at times bursting into uncontrollable yells as they convulsed around their instruments. Kelli belted Bjork-inspired cries as she appeared to be on the verge of an emotional breakdown, hammering her white guitar and shaking at the knees. If you want to do yourself a favor, buy her album here! I did, right when I got home! Bands I can liken her to are Florence and the Machine with a bit more grit and Sleater Kinney with a bit less punk and a bit more blues. In the middle of their set, the band put down their instruments and joined Kelli in a three-part harmony that was flawless, dripping from the stage, blowing the mind of every person in the audience. Then her soprano-screaming bass player grabbed a flute and started jamming, and that should give you an indication of the eclectic nature of the band. They were amazing to watch, and I suggest you keep an eye on their tour dates so you won't miss a golden opportunity.
And then the band I came to see: The Parson Redheads. A coworker/friend's brother-in-law was once a founding member of this band when they were emerging from within the Los Angeles folk-rock scene. He invited me to an earlier show they played in Portland, where they've since founded themselves, and I became an immediate fan. They represent well-crafted, catchy folk/rock songs with great guitar licks and lush vocal harmonies. Their laid-back, big-beard-style anthems bring out the 60s hippie in you that you never were. They've been playing a long time together and they have their craft DOWN! You can feel the love in the room as they sing charming songs that celebrate life and relationships.
Here's a great video:
Saturday, April 16, 2011
On Pilgrimage: The Peace Corps, Part I
My series on pilgrimage has thus far just covered traditional pilgrimages - that is, physical journeys with locations for destinations. The Camino de Santiago was a striving to reach Santiago and the TransAmerica bike trip was a striving to reach Yorktown, Virginia. The Peace Corps does not match that criteria - it's a striving to finish your service in the very place you started - some village tucked in the middle of nowhere, hopefully with electricity. But I am including it in my series on pilgrimage because, while you end the Peace Corps in the same PHYSICAL location, you most certainly do NOT end it in the same MENTAL location. Peace Corps volunteers, upon completing their service, are profoundly different. I know this because I was profoundly different when I completed my 2-year commitment, and I was only 9 months into it. I joined the Peace Corps just after graduating from Humboldt State University with philosophy on the brain. I left it 9 months later with fluency in Spanish, fluency in hoeing and feeding multitudes of guinea pigs, and experience in working on a farm. I also left with two missing teeth and a jaw smashed in two places. I jumped on a plane with my mouth banded shut, and said goodbye to my girlfriend, Marcela. Needless to say, I left Ecuador in tears, a profoundly changed man.
The Peace Corps begins with a letter that you need to respond to within weeks that tells you where you are to be stationed. Embarrassing to say, when I found out I was to go to Ecuador, I had to look it up on a map. I was delighted to find it in South America. I really wanted to live in South America. I helped my chances by taking Spanish classes at HSU, and it worked out. Ecuador, nestled between Peru, Bolivia, and Colombia, is an amazing place to live. Within a couple hours' drive, you could be on the coast enjoying coconut juice and humid warmth, the transitional zone between the coast and the mountains enjoying amazing fruits and watching strange birds, high up in the Andes mingling with proud indigenous populations and eating cuy, or in the jungle surrounded by an abundance of plant and animal life. It wasn't a hard decision to say yes, although I knew it would not be an easy experience, especially as Peace Corps volunteers serve alone.
In the Peace Corps, you join an Omnibus, and together you train, in your country, for a couple months. I was a part of Omnibus 95 in Ecuador. My group was fantastic, and I'm still friends with many of them today. We all met in Miami, Florida and made our preparations to move to Ecuador, where we were to be stationed in Cayambe, a city north of Quito in the Andes. The way training worked was that we were each placed with an indigenous family in the various towns surrounding Cayambe, and each day we would migrate to the city to take classes on Ecuadorian culture, language, and courses on agriculture and habitat conservation. We had several field trips to experience agricultural practices and conservation methods in the various ecosystems of Ecuador.
My family lived in Cariacu and they were dairy farmers. We developed a very close relationship right off the bat, in large part because I love kids and I played endlessly with little Paul. We played futbol and tag all the time, and we often made shadow puppets on the walls. The neighbor kids loved to play as well along with his brother, Emerson. It was a constant party. My 'mother', Isabel, and I also developed a close relationship. She wasn't used to a man in the house washing dishes and sweeping the floor. Her husband, Arsenio, as is the custom, worked all day delivering milk and came home ready to be served food. I think Isabel deeply appreciated the way I entertained her kids and also pitched in around the house, and I realized just how much she cared about me when, at the family appreciation dinner we had when we were graduating from our training class, she broke down crying. We asked the different families to say something about their volunteer, and in the middle of talking about how I played with her kids and helped around the house, she couldn't speak anymore and she started to cry. It was a very touching scene - one I will never forget. I get just as weepy when I think about the meals she prepared for me, the way she'd go into my room and straighten up every day, and the generosity she showed me time and time again. And this is the beauty of the Peace Corps - you often enjoy a peaceful, respectful cultural exchange. I left the my family changed, as they were too. Here is a journal entry from a rather interesting day with my family:
"I spent the entire day in my bed being deathly ill. It all started around 11 at night when I couldn't get warm to save my life. I had the chills. Then things just got progressively worse with time and I spent the day with a bad headache, an exhausted and noxious body, and an upset stomach.... The interesting thing that happened today was a sort of Shamanic ritual performed on me by my mother. She came in the room with everyone else around and took an egg and rolled it over my stomach and my head really fast. She was doing it until the consistency of the egg's insides sounded like water. Then she covered me with a blanket - covering me head to toe. Elizabeth brought in a bundle of medicinal plants from outside and she beat me through the cover with the plants, being sure to get all my parts - stomach, face, back, legs, back of the head. It was truly a trip and it kind of makes me glad to have been sick today. Plus, I do feel better now than I did before the ritual."
I was actually perfectly fine the following day!
While in training, the US was aggressively trying to pass free trade agreements throughout South America. Several countries stood up against it, including Ecuador. Now having a leftist government, Ecuadorians do not worry as much about US hegemony, but during my training, the people had to make it clear to their more conservative government that they didn't want the US deal to go through. Headed by the indigenous community, strikes and road blockades rose up all over the country to send a clear message that the government should not pass the free trade agreement. This left us volunteers immobile and a bit uneasy. We were employees, after all, of the US government.
I was treated with nothing but grace during the strikes. There was one time where I had to travel from one town to the next, and it involved crossing a road-block with the people of my town, Cariacu. I nervously approached and asked, very politely, if I could pass. The man I addressed looked at me coldly and said, "No." I said it was okay and started to turn around and suddenly everybody started to laugh. Then the man said, "Of course! Siga no mas!"
In the end, the US pulled out of the agreement because of a dispute between Ecuador and Chevron. US politicians wanted to show their solidarity with big-US-oil business and stopped potential dealings with Ecuador when Chevron filed a suit of 1.6 billion dollars against Ecuador, charging that Ecuador did not pay the agreed-upon price for oil made in documents dating back to the 1970s. This is a separate lawsuit from the one filed since by indigenous communities (the real victims in all this) seeking 27 billion dollars for the environmental disaster Chevron left when it exited the country.
I'll continue to talk about my experience in the Peace Corps in upcoming blogs.
Cariacu - My backyard!
The Peace Corps begins with a letter that you need to respond to within weeks that tells you where you are to be stationed. Embarrassing to say, when I found out I was to go to Ecuador, I had to look it up on a map. I was delighted to find it in South America. I really wanted to live in South America. I helped my chances by taking Spanish classes at HSU, and it worked out. Ecuador, nestled between Peru, Bolivia, and Colombia, is an amazing place to live. Within a couple hours' drive, you could be on the coast enjoying coconut juice and humid warmth, the transitional zone between the coast and the mountains enjoying amazing fruits and watching strange birds, high up in the Andes mingling with proud indigenous populations and eating cuy, or in the jungle surrounded by an abundance of plant and animal life. It wasn't a hard decision to say yes, although I knew it would not be an easy experience, especially as Peace Corps volunteers serve alone.
In the Peace Corps, you join an Omnibus, and together you train, in your country, for a couple months. I was a part of Omnibus 95 in Ecuador. My group was fantastic, and I'm still friends with many of them today. We all met in Miami, Florida and made our preparations to move to Ecuador, where we were to be stationed in Cayambe, a city north of Quito in the Andes. The way training worked was that we were each placed with an indigenous family in the various towns surrounding Cayambe, and each day we would migrate to the city to take classes on Ecuadorian culture, language, and courses on agriculture and habitat conservation. We had several field trips to experience agricultural practices and conservation methods in the various ecosystems of Ecuador.
Isabel, Milking one of her Cows
My family lived in Cariacu and they were dairy farmers. We developed a very close relationship right off the bat, in large part because I love kids and I played endlessly with little Paul. We played futbol and tag all the time, and we often made shadow puppets on the walls. The neighbor kids loved to play as well along with his brother, Emerson. It was a constant party. My 'mother', Isabel, and I also developed a close relationship. She wasn't used to a man in the house washing dishes and sweeping the floor. Her husband, Arsenio, as is the custom, worked all day delivering milk and came home ready to be served food. I think Isabel deeply appreciated the way I entertained her kids and also pitched in around the house, and I realized just how much she cared about me when, at the family appreciation dinner we had when we were graduating from our training class, she broke down crying. We asked the different families to say something about their volunteer, and in the middle of talking about how I played with her kids and helped around the house, she couldn't speak anymore and she started to cry. It was a very touching scene - one I will never forget. I get just as weepy when I think about the meals she prepared for me, the way she'd go into my room and straighten up every day, and the generosity she showed me time and time again. And this is the beauty of the Peace Corps - you often enjoy a peaceful, respectful cultural exchange. I left the my family changed, as they were too. Here is a journal entry from a rather interesting day with my family:
"I spent the entire day in my bed being deathly ill. It all started around 11 at night when I couldn't get warm to save my life. I had the chills. Then things just got progressively worse with time and I spent the day with a bad headache, an exhausted and noxious body, and an upset stomach.... The interesting thing that happened today was a sort of Shamanic ritual performed on me by my mother. She came in the room with everyone else around and took an egg and rolled it over my stomach and my head really fast. She was doing it until the consistency of the egg's insides sounded like water. Then she covered me with a blanket - covering me head to toe. Elizabeth brought in a bundle of medicinal plants from outside and she beat me through the cover with the plants, being sure to get all my parts - stomach, face, back, legs, back of the head. It was truly a trip and it kind of makes me glad to have been sick today. Plus, I do feel better now than I did before the ritual."
I was actually perfectly fine the following day!
Mi Familia
Little Vanessa and her Pup
I was treated with nothing but grace during the strikes. There was one time where I had to travel from one town to the next, and it involved crossing a road-block with the people of my town, Cariacu. I nervously approached and asked, very politely, if I could pass. The man I addressed looked at me coldly and said, "No." I said it was okay and started to turn around and suddenly everybody started to laugh. Then the man said, "Of course! Siga no mas!"
In the end, the US pulled out of the agreement because of a dispute between Ecuador and Chevron. US politicians wanted to show their solidarity with big-US-oil business and stopped potential dealings with Ecuador when Chevron filed a suit of 1.6 billion dollars against Ecuador, charging that Ecuador did not pay the agreed-upon price for oil made in documents dating back to the 1970s. This is a separate lawsuit from the one filed since by indigenous communities (the real victims in all this) seeking 27 billion dollars for the environmental disaster Chevron left when it exited the country.
Paul and the Gang
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Songs: The Homeless Pilgrims' - Sleeping in the Park
In 2002, just before my life changing trip on The Camino de Santiago, I was terribly depressed, and my therapy was writing and recording songs. I released an album under the alias of "The Homeless Pilgrims" and the album was called "Sleeping In The Park". I consider this album to be one of my most creative because, recording it myself, it was free. I spent hours tweaking sounds with effects, adding parts, experimenting with different instruments, and re-recording small parts. These are some highlights. Enjoy!
Ocean Song by tmhfband
I May Not Be Right by tmhfband
How I Feel by tmhfband
Sleepy by tmhfband
Ocean Song by tmhfband
I May Not Be Right by tmhfband
How I Feel by tmhfband
Sleepy by tmhfband
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Poem: The Philosopher's Life
I wrote this poem after reading Gilles Delueze's book on the philosopher Spinoza. Spinoza, surrounded by negativity in the form of war, tyranny, reaction, and 'men who fight for their enslavement as if it were their freedom,' espoused a philosophy grounded in ethics that, unlike so many philosophers before him, took life not as a matter of theory, but as a way of being. His most influential and famous work, Ethics, lays out a life-affirming treatise that works against what Spinoza calls 'satire'. Delueze writes, "(S)atire is everything that takes pleasure in the powerlessness and distress of men, everything that feeds on accusations, on malice, on belittlement, on low interpretations, everything that breaks men's spirits" (13). He presents instead a vision that de-anthropomorphizes God, presenting instead a monist vision in which God is an immanent cause (not transitive or emanative), and all physical beings and mental content are attributes of God, not to be distinguished substantially. The goal of his philosophy was ethical: to remove the concepts of 'Good and Evil,' so espoused in the monotheistic traditions, in place of 'good and bad.' To do something bad was not to do something forbidden, but to do something that decreased your joy and vision in the world (and the joy and vision of others, as they are essentially different modes of the same substance that you are). To do something good would not be to do something decreed, but to increase your joy and vision in the world (and the joy and vision of others). This was an effort to overthrow the presiding system of judgment and to inspire, in its place, critical attention to the idea of increasing one's power in the world. Deleuze writes, "He wanted only to inspire, to waken, to reveal" (14).
Spinoza ended up poor, property-less, undermined by illness and cut off from the Jewish community in Amsterdam. Here is some text from the document cutting Spinoza off from the Jewish community:
"By decree of the angels and by the command of the holy men, we excommunicate, expel, curse and damn Baruch de Espinoza, with the consent of God, Blessed be He, and with the consent of the entire holy congregation, and in front of these holy scrolls with the 613 precepts which are written therein; cursing him with the excommunication with which Joshua banned Jericho and with the curse which Elisha cursed the boys and with all the castigations which are written in the Book of the Law. Cursed be he by day and cursed be he by night; cursed be he when he lies down and cursed be he when he rises up. Cursed be he when he goes out and cursed be he when he comes in. The Lord will not spare him, but then the anger of the Lord and his jealousy shall smoke against that man, and all the curses that are written in this book shall lie upon him, and the Lord shall blot out his name from under heaven. And the Lord shall separate him unto evil out of all the tribes of Israel, according to all the curses of the covenant that are written in this book of the law. But you that cleave unto the Lord your God are alive every one of you this day."
Delueze puts it well: "Humility, poverty, chastity are his (the philosopher's) way of being a grand vivant, of making a temple of his own body, for a cause that is all too proud, all too rich, all too sensual. So that by attacking the philosopher, people know the shame of attacking a modest, poor, and chaste appearance, which increases their impotent rage tenfold; and the philosopher offers no purchase, although he takes every blow" (3).
Here is a poem I wrote, inspired by Deleuze's words and Spinoza's life:
Spinoza ended up poor, property-less, undermined by illness and cut off from the Jewish community in Amsterdam. Here is some text from the document cutting Spinoza off from the Jewish community:
"By decree of the angels and by the command of the holy men, we excommunicate, expel, curse and damn Baruch de Espinoza, with the consent of God, Blessed be He, and with the consent of the entire holy congregation, and in front of these holy scrolls with the 613 precepts which are written therein; cursing him with the excommunication with which Joshua banned Jericho and with the curse which Elisha cursed the boys and with all the castigations which are written in the Book of the Law. Cursed be he by day and cursed be he by night; cursed be he when he lies down and cursed be he when he rises up. Cursed be he when he goes out and cursed be he when he comes in. The Lord will not spare him, but then the anger of the Lord and his jealousy shall smoke against that man, and all the curses that are written in this book shall lie upon him, and the Lord shall blot out his name from under heaven. And the Lord shall separate him unto evil out of all the tribes of Israel, according to all the curses of the covenant that are written in this book of the law. But you that cleave unto the Lord your God are alive every one of you this day."
Delueze puts it well: "Humility, poverty, chastity are his (the philosopher's) way of being a grand vivant, of making a temple of his own body, for a cause that is all too proud, all too rich, all too sensual. So that by attacking the philosopher, people know the shame of attacking a modest, poor, and chaste appearance, which increases their impotent rage tenfold; and the philosopher offers no purchase, although he takes every blow" (3).
Here is a poem I wrote, inspired by Deleuze's words and Spinoza's life:
The Philosopher’s Life (In Tribute of Spinoza)
When frost melted on the road less traveled,
It absorbed into the leaf-covered trail.
The molecules thereby became unraveled,
And seeped thoroughly into the shale.
Beneath the earth the moisture spread,
And from it seeds began to bud.
In so doing did life raise from the dead,
And the light of the sun drew the grass from the mud.
Such is the philosopher’s life.
Such is the way she lives.
Embracing poverty, chastity and strife,
She seeks to uncover pettiness and lies
That shackle the man embedded in politics,
Embedded in public opinions and expectations,
Who seek to replace the inane and bucolic,
With material production and senseless prostrations.
No, the philosopher’s is a life of virtue.
The act of making a temple of her own body,
Though appearing modest, poor and hirsute,
Though appearing bow-legged, chaste and wobbly.
But behind this mask lies an empowered being.
For such a life is lived as a cause, not an effect,
And thereby a vibrant source of Life is springing,
A life red with blood, a life erect.
A philosopher does not live according to means and ends,
But rather according to a spiritual production.
Thus analyzing the modern-day trends,
To uncover their root and cast out the unction.
Thereby the ethical life of the philosopher unfolds,
And not once has it ended at the pull of a noose,
For the masses don’t often approve of what’s told,
And the earth does bellow when water makes it loose.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Some Photos from Time Spent Outdoors
Ice House Reservoir, California
Mt. Shasta, Northern California
Mt. Shasta, Northern California
Big Sur, California
King's Canyon, California
King's Canyon, California
King's Canyon, California
Yosemite, California
Imbabura, Ecuador
Imbabura, Ecuador
San Gorgonio, Southern California
Santa Cruz Mountains, California
Mt Hood Wilderness, Oregon
Mt Hood Wilderness, Oregon
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Derrida and Cherif - Thoughts on Islam and the West
Since I recently wrote an article on Osama Bin Laden, I thought I'd follow it up with a talk on Mustapha Cherif and Jacques Derrida and their perspectives on Islam and the West.
Derrida (1930-2004) is responsible for radically transforming our ideas about writing, reading, and philosophy, and his huge archive of work has challenged many prevailing philosophical theories on topics ranging from politics, ethics, literary theory, legal theory, and psychoanalysis. He's one of the most important philosophers of the later 20th century, but also one of the most elusive. In the spring of 2003, Derrida went to a hospital and learned that he had pancreatic cancer. This disease tragically killed him 15 months later. But on the day he learned of his illness, he went straight from the doctor to the Institut du Monde Arabe in Paris to meet with Mustapha Cherif for a public debate on Islam and the West, an important topic given the 9/11 tragedy the year before.
Mustapha Cherif is a leading Islamic academic who's made a career of battling religious hatred. He's a professor of philosophy and Islamic studies at the University of Algiers. He famously met with Pope Benedict XVI after the Pope made an unfavorable remark about Islam in his Regensburg Lecture. This article is written to elucidate their ideas with regard to Islam and the West.
Cherif identifies early on in his book, "Islam and the West: A Conversation with Jacques Derrida", a "noble moral dimension" in the thoughts of Derrida: a concern for the future of human dignity (7). This means thinking critically about the dilemmas of our era and acting with respect to our fellow human beings and human experience. We'll find this dimension woven in and out of his thoughts on Islam and the West. It's from this basis that Cherif and Derrida argue against the compartmentalization we've placed on secularization and spirituality. Secularization, in modern culture, has come to mean a Eurocentric humanism riding on the 'death of God'. Spirituality, for many in the West, has come to indicate the fundamentalist religious groups and their intolerance. Just consider the modern Athiest movement, led by the likes of Sam Harris. "The End of Faith" reduces religion down to violence, intolerance, and naivety, as if a world rid of religious faith would become peaceful. So does Greg Graffin's "Anarchy Evolution" (which I wrote a book review on). While their critiques of fundamentalism are admirable, the picture these authors paint is that secularity is not at all possible within religious systems, and religion should therefore be eliminated in favor of scientific testability. Secularity, then, is set out against spirituality.
Cherif disagrees, arguing that such projects do not encourage a peaceful world. They rather promote violence and intolerance. "The secularization of the political and of the public spheres, Derrida rightly tells us, is the fundamental condition, the necessary passage to freedom, democracy, and progress. For the field that I know relatively well, Islamology, I will say with modesty that, without a shadow of a doubt, the principle of secularity is, despite appearances, intrinsic to Islam, and this has been true since its origins. And yet, the uniqueness of the third monotheistic religion resides in the fact that the different dimensions of life - religion and politics, the spiritual and the temporal, nature and culture, the public and the private - if they must naturally be separated in order to avoid confusion and to prevent all totalitarianisms, must not be placed in opposition. Their extreme separation can create a void, which reason cannot be counted on to fill" (13).
Given these circumstances, Cherif asks, "How then, can a rational and rigorous thinker, who is also an authentic believer, reconsider the question of secularization, its meaning and its object, other than by simply separating the one from the other and by eliminating, as legitimately as possible, the claims of the theocratic power to govern?" To understand what Cherif is saying here, consider Western philosophical concepts, which of course govern politics, economics, and the day to day lived experience of western citizens. Despite all rhetoric and claims to an authentic secularization (Harris and Graffin), modern Western thought is still born out of a Christian tradition. This is not an attack of to reduce the truth of such philosophical concepts. Born out of a Christian tradition are noble philosophical notions regarding human autonomy and responsibility. Cherif, a Muslim, is bringing it to our attention, arguing that such notions are not the result of a conspiracy against spirituality, but an environment in which difference was appreciated to give rise to developments in political thought. To respect the dignity of human beings is not to pit the secularization of Muslims against the spiritualization of Muslims. It's to respect Islam's unique domain. It requires that the West greet 'the other' with "unconditional acceptance... beyond all differences" and to encourage "the infinite exercise of reason". This approach will lead towards secularization and what Derrida calls "a democracy to come".
Western secularization has not come about through an antagonism between rationality and religion. It's development started with a respect for difference - a respect for the particular domains inhabited by domains such as Lutheranism and Catholicism. Coinciding with such respect was a continued debate, at times friendly (as with speeches and university coursework) and at times violent (as with marches and protests). The secularization of Islam will likewise develop not in spite of Islam, but within it, accompanied by a continued debate.
The West's current approach towards Islam has been one of hostility, naivete, and intolerance, and that's very much based on the division we've created between reason and religion. Cherif writes, "The closing of the horizon, the negative trends and difficulties in reason and religion, the new historical monstrosities assailing us are perhaps not definitive, insurmountable, nor invincible, if we at least understand that we mustn't either idolize reason as opposed to faith, or vice versa, or simply tolerate one while preferring the other. Rather, our mission should be to open them up, raise them, carry them along, each in its own unique domain, lift them up to the heights of that which is worth living for: the free search for the beautiful, the just, and the true" (16).
One of Derrida's important arguments with regard to Middle-East/West relations comes in the form of a critique of the concept of Democracy. Democracy is often talked about as though it's understood, or realizable - as though it's a project that's been finished and can therefore be exported. For Derrida, it's never actualized. What makes a democracy identifiable are not particular characteristics that have been realized, but a general attitude among the citizenry. For Derrida, democracy is always to come. The attitude among the citizenry is one of self-criticism. He argues, "To exist in a democracy is to agree to challenge, to be challenged, to challenge the status quo, which is called democratic, in the name of a democracy to come" (42). The occurrence and promise of democracy is never, therefore, upon us. It's always before us. What we have upon us is always a so-called democracy ('We are supposed to be free, but I'm gay and I can't marry my partner!'). What we have before us is a democracy to come ('One day we will be able to marry, but first we must open people's minds and hearts!'). Derrida says, "This is how one recognizes a democracy: the right to say everything, the right to criticize the allegation, or the so-called democracy, in the name of a democracy to come" (43).
The obvious critique of Middle-East/West relations is that the West claims to have achieved a democracy to come (they've made the future present), and it is transportable in the form of a nation-state (Iraq will be free when, at last, it becomes like the UNITED STATES). If there is to be peace and respect between Islamic nations and the United States, Derrida argues that it will need to be grounded in the concept of a democracy to come, not in terms of a realized political institution belonging to a particular nation-state. Derrida says, "I believe that if a dialogue is to be opened between what you call the West and the East, between the different cultural regions and the different religious regions of the world, if such an exchange is possible through words, through thoughts, and not through force, if such a dialogue and exchange are possible without resorting to force, they must occur on the horizon of that democracy to come, which is not connected to a nation-state, which is not connected to citizenship, to territoriality" (44). It's on this basis that Derrida argues for a new international law with respected international institutions that can impose their decisions. Such law must respect the sovereignty of small States and protect from them from the abuse of the sovereignty of powerful States.
With regard to secularization and spirituality, Derrida finds the need for both, agreeing with Cherif that they must not be pitted against each other. With respect to the challenge issued by a democracy to come, we must continue to accumulate knowledge. We must have critical awareness. This means we must not stand against science and its discoveries. We must resist scientism (the idea that natural science is the authoritative worldview or aspect of human education), but not scientific inquiry. But we must also recognize the importance of faith. The faith Derrida is talking about is not fundamentalism, which does not honor a democracy to come, but a relationship with the Mystery of Life (defined by Cherif as "everything that involves that which in life is still unknown to us, both in the sense that science still has discoveries to make, that science has progress to make, in its knowledge of life, genetics, biology, and also in the sense of life as existence" - he also says, "This faith is the condition of the social bond itself" meaning that to relate to another is to relate to an unknown). Faith is revealed, for Derrida, in every act of opening up to the other. This always involves a risk, because to open up to the other is to say "yes" to them, and to extend your hand. It's an inherent affirmation of life, not given from the outside. Saying yes means making possible a reconciliation, a negotiation, and possibly establishing peace. It involves great risk because of the hostilities involved, and it therefore involves a leap of faith - something that accompanies knowledge, but is not knowledge. It's something that falls outside the domain of the knowable. Derrida argued, "Knowledge guarantees neither democracy nor moral responsibility nor justice. Thus we must have knowledge, one must reject neither knowledge nor critical awareness, but there are also moments of faith, in which a leap is made, the leap of opening up, toward that new alliance that I mentioned earlier" (76). If peace is to be realized in Middle-East/West relations, it will involve such an opening up - it will involve faith.
Derrida wrote, "Nothing essential will be done if one doesn't allow oneself to be called forth by the other" (99). What can we gather from this? If the West is to live peacefully with the Islamic Nations, we must allow ourselves to be called forth by them. We must say yes, and extend our hand. We must not demand their secularization or impose our particular way of life. We must not consider our political institutions as Democracy Realized. We must understand ourselves in a similar struggle as our Middle Eastern sisters and brothers - fighting for justice, fighting for a democracy to come. We must remain connected to the Mystery of Life, as our search for common understanding, respect, and peace requires it. We must remain self-critical and working to improve international law. We must respect Islam's particular domain and not seek to change it, but rather to understand it and engage it in critical discourse (not so as to defeat it, but to be called forth by it and to stand in front of it). These enlightened thoughts, well put by two enlightened philosophers, should guide our studies and protests of US/Middle-East politics. It's with reference to these ideas that we should criticize a hitherto failed foreign policy that's resulted in perpetual war.
Cherif, Mustapha. Islam and the West: A Conversation with Jacques Derrida. Trans. Teresa Lavender Fagan. Chicago: University of Chicago, 2008.
Derrida (1930-2004) is responsible for radically transforming our ideas about writing, reading, and philosophy, and his huge archive of work has challenged many prevailing philosophical theories on topics ranging from politics, ethics, literary theory, legal theory, and psychoanalysis. He's one of the most important philosophers of the later 20th century, but also one of the most elusive. In the spring of 2003, Derrida went to a hospital and learned that he had pancreatic cancer. This disease tragically killed him 15 months later. But on the day he learned of his illness, he went straight from the doctor to the Institut du Monde Arabe in Paris to meet with Mustapha Cherif for a public debate on Islam and the West, an important topic given the 9/11 tragedy the year before.
Mustapha Cherif is a leading Islamic academic who's made a career of battling religious hatred. He's a professor of philosophy and Islamic studies at the University of Algiers. He famously met with Pope Benedict XVI after the Pope made an unfavorable remark about Islam in his Regensburg Lecture. This article is written to elucidate their ideas with regard to Islam and the West.
Cherif identifies early on in his book, "Islam and the West: A Conversation with Jacques Derrida", a "noble moral dimension" in the thoughts of Derrida: a concern for the future of human dignity (7). This means thinking critically about the dilemmas of our era and acting with respect to our fellow human beings and human experience. We'll find this dimension woven in and out of his thoughts on Islam and the West. It's from this basis that Cherif and Derrida argue against the compartmentalization we've placed on secularization and spirituality. Secularization, in modern culture, has come to mean a Eurocentric humanism riding on the 'death of God'. Spirituality, for many in the West, has come to indicate the fundamentalist religious groups and their intolerance. Just consider the modern Athiest movement, led by the likes of Sam Harris. "The End of Faith" reduces religion down to violence, intolerance, and naivety, as if a world rid of religious faith would become peaceful. So does Greg Graffin's "Anarchy Evolution" (which I wrote a book review on). While their critiques of fundamentalism are admirable, the picture these authors paint is that secularity is not at all possible within religious systems, and religion should therefore be eliminated in favor of scientific testability. Secularity, then, is set out against spirituality.
Cherif disagrees, arguing that such projects do not encourage a peaceful world. They rather promote violence and intolerance. "The secularization of the political and of the public spheres, Derrida rightly tells us, is the fundamental condition, the necessary passage to freedom, democracy, and progress. For the field that I know relatively well, Islamology, I will say with modesty that, without a shadow of a doubt, the principle of secularity is, despite appearances, intrinsic to Islam, and this has been true since its origins. And yet, the uniqueness of the third monotheistic religion resides in the fact that the different dimensions of life - religion and politics, the spiritual and the temporal, nature and culture, the public and the private - if they must naturally be separated in order to avoid confusion and to prevent all totalitarianisms, must not be placed in opposition. Their extreme separation can create a void, which reason cannot be counted on to fill" (13).
Given these circumstances, Cherif asks, "How then, can a rational and rigorous thinker, who is also an authentic believer, reconsider the question of secularization, its meaning and its object, other than by simply separating the one from the other and by eliminating, as legitimately as possible, the claims of the theocratic power to govern?" To understand what Cherif is saying here, consider Western philosophical concepts, which of course govern politics, economics, and the day to day lived experience of western citizens. Despite all rhetoric and claims to an authentic secularization (Harris and Graffin), modern Western thought is still born out of a Christian tradition. This is not an attack of to reduce the truth of such philosophical concepts. Born out of a Christian tradition are noble philosophical notions regarding human autonomy and responsibility. Cherif, a Muslim, is bringing it to our attention, arguing that such notions are not the result of a conspiracy against spirituality, but an environment in which difference was appreciated to give rise to developments in political thought. To respect the dignity of human beings is not to pit the secularization of Muslims against the spiritualization of Muslims. It's to respect Islam's unique domain. It requires that the West greet 'the other' with "unconditional acceptance... beyond all differences" and to encourage "the infinite exercise of reason". This approach will lead towards secularization and what Derrida calls "a democracy to come".
Western secularization has not come about through an antagonism between rationality and religion. It's development started with a respect for difference - a respect for the particular domains inhabited by domains such as Lutheranism and Catholicism. Coinciding with such respect was a continued debate, at times friendly (as with speeches and university coursework) and at times violent (as with marches and protests). The secularization of Islam will likewise develop not in spite of Islam, but within it, accompanied by a continued debate.
The West's current approach towards Islam has been one of hostility, naivete, and intolerance, and that's very much based on the division we've created between reason and religion. Cherif writes, "The closing of the horizon, the negative trends and difficulties in reason and religion, the new historical monstrosities assailing us are perhaps not definitive, insurmountable, nor invincible, if we at least understand that we mustn't either idolize reason as opposed to faith, or vice versa, or simply tolerate one while preferring the other. Rather, our mission should be to open them up, raise them, carry them along, each in its own unique domain, lift them up to the heights of that which is worth living for: the free search for the beautiful, the just, and the true" (16).
One of Derrida's important arguments with regard to Middle-East/West relations comes in the form of a critique of the concept of Democracy. Democracy is often talked about as though it's understood, or realizable - as though it's a project that's been finished and can therefore be exported. For Derrida, it's never actualized. What makes a democracy identifiable are not particular characteristics that have been realized, but a general attitude among the citizenry. For Derrida, democracy is always to come. The attitude among the citizenry is one of self-criticism. He argues, "To exist in a democracy is to agree to challenge, to be challenged, to challenge the status quo, which is called democratic, in the name of a democracy to come" (42). The occurrence and promise of democracy is never, therefore, upon us. It's always before us. What we have upon us is always a so-called democracy ('We are supposed to be free, but I'm gay and I can't marry my partner!'). What we have before us is a democracy to come ('One day we will be able to marry, but first we must open people's minds and hearts!'). Derrida says, "This is how one recognizes a democracy: the right to say everything, the right to criticize the allegation, or the so-called democracy, in the name of a democracy to come" (43).
The obvious critique of Middle-East/West relations is that the West claims to have achieved a democracy to come (they've made the future present), and it is transportable in the form of a nation-state (Iraq will be free when, at last, it becomes like the UNITED STATES). If there is to be peace and respect between Islamic nations and the United States, Derrida argues that it will need to be grounded in the concept of a democracy to come, not in terms of a realized political institution belonging to a particular nation-state. Derrida says, "I believe that if a dialogue is to be opened between what you call the West and the East, between the different cultural regions and the different religious regions of the world, if such an exchange is possible through words, through thoughts, and not through force, if such a dialogue and exchange are possible without resorting to force, they must occur on the horizon of that democracy to come, which is not connected to a nation-state, which is not connected to citizenship, to territoriality" (44). It's on this basis that Derrida argues for a new international law with respected international institutions that can impose their decisions. Such law must respect the sovereignty of small States and protect from them from the abuse of the sovereignty of powerful States.
With regard to secularization and spirituality, Derrida finds the need for both, agreeing with Cherif that they must not be pitted against each other. With respect to the challenge issued by a democracy to come, we must continue to accumulate knowledge. We must have critical awareness. This means we must not stand against science and its discoveries. We must resist scientism (the idea that natural science is the authoritative worldview or aspect of human education), but not scientific inquiry. But we must also recognize the importance of faith. The faith Derrida is talking about is not fundamentalism, which does not honor a democracy to come, but a relationship with the Mystery of Life (defined by Cherif as "everything that involves that which in life is still unknown to us, both in the sense that science still has discoveries to make, that science has progress to make, in its knowledge of life, genetics, biology, and also in the sense of life as existence" - he also says, "This faith is the condition of the social bond itself" meaning that to relate to another is to relate to an unknown). Faith is revealed, for Derrida, in every act of opening up to the other. This always involves a risk, because to open up to the other is to say "yes" to them, and to extend your hand. It's an inherent affirmation of life, not given from the outside. Saying yes means making possible a reconciliation, a negotiation, and possibly establishing peace. It involves great risk because of the hostilities involved, and it therefore involves a leap of faith - something that accompanies knowledge, but is not knowledge. It's something that falls outside the domain of the knowable. Derrida argued, "Knowledge guarantees neither democracy nor moral responsibility nor justice. Thus we must have knowledge, one must reject neither knowledge nor critical awareness, but there are also moments of faith, in which a leap is made, the leap of opening up, toward that new alliance that I mentioned earlier" (76). If peace is to be realized in Middle-East/West relations, it will involve such an opening up - it will involve faith.
Derrida wrote, "Nothing essential will be done if one doesn't allow oneself to be called forth by the other" (99). What can we gather from this? If the West is to live peacefully with the Islamic Nations, we must allow ourselves to be called forth by them. We must say yes, and extend our hand. We must not demand their secularization or impose our particular way of life. We must not consider our political institutions as Democracy Realized. We must understand ourselves in a similar struggle as our Middle Eastern sisters and brothers - fighting for justice, fighting for a democracy to come. We must remain connected to the Mystery of Life, as our search for common understanding, respect, and peace requires it. We must remain self-critical and working to improve international law. We must respect Islam's particular domain and not seek to change it, but rather to understand it and engage it in critical discourse (not so as to defeat it, but to be called forth by it and to stand in front of it). These enlightened thoughts, well put by two enlightened philosophers, should guide our studies and protests of US/Middle-East politics. It's with reference to these ideas that we should criticize a hitherto failed foreign policy that's resulted in perpetual war.
Cherif, Mustapha. Islam and the West: A Conversation with Jacques Derrida. Trans. Teresa Lavender Fagan. Chicago: University of Chicago, 2008.
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