The Illusion of Independence - A Rambleogue

More than ever I am convinced that Marx (and others, including many feminist thinkers) have been right when they remind us that humans are quintessentially social. We require community, in the most robust sense of the word, and human nature can only be understood relationally. Indeed, without living in community, can we even truly be called human?

Thrown out alone in the wilderness, the human individual can only last so long, even though the body might survive (survival is possible, though very difficult without shared resources as a sort of insurance, until the day you get too old, sick, or otherwise weakened to provide food and water for yourself). But in order to express our humanity, do we not need other people? Is this not why solitary confinement is such a harsh punishment?

We tend to forget this, and think of ourselves first and foremost as autonomous individuals, who choose to live in relation with others. Capitalism fosters this illusion, its forces trying to make us into competitive individuals, "free" from societal constraints as much as possible. In this view, freedom follows a consumption model of choice - freedom means choosing how to spend our dollar, or with whom we spend our time. The end result is often shallow relationships, a sense of restlessness, alienation, loneliness and unhappiness. (Despite this, we often do manage to have deep and abiding and satisfying relationships, which is a testament to just how unnatural the absolute individualist model is.)

In fact, I would say the only reason we are able to hold the illusion of our autonomous individuality is because of the protections and comforts our wider society affords. It provides for us many of the things that a small community once might have. So many fundamental shared institutions underwrite our individual activities. Without infrastructure, a measure of security and stability, relative agreement about social norms, regulation of some aspects of industry etc we could not live a life that seems independent and autonomous. And yet precisely because these things are simply there, taken for granted, largely provided by a faceless state or society, we tend to forget how much we depend on them. It is the communal wealth and social capital provided by the state and society that allows us to imagine we are independent, to forget our interdependence.

In some ways, the current financial crisis is driving home this exact point. When faced with an economy in crisis, the myth of the self-made man seems a little silly, doesn't it?

Why I Study History

When I was younger (19 or so) I had an.. um... let's just call it a mind-expanding experience. It became so clear to me all of a sudden just how far we as a society are from our roots, or from our foundations. I mean this in a pretty concrete way. From a handful of extended family tribes living close to the earth, we built up these incredibly complex civilizations - technology, religion, bureaucracy, global transportation, trade, electronics, communications. We take it all for granted: cities, highrises, airplanes, universities, supermarkets. But most of it is pretty new.

Catastrophe is always lurking around the corner, as a potentiality. Climate change is one likely trigger for many potential catastrophes, and it is possible that our civilization will end with it. Think about Rome. It was around for a thousand years, and it fell. In post-Roman Britain, for instance, with nobody to maintain the infrastructure in the cities there was hunger and plague. People pretty much abandoned the cities and went back to barely scratching out a living, with small scale subsistence farming. These were what we know as the Dark Ages. If it could happen then, it can happen now. And eventually it will. That is certain; the time frame and causes are less so.

Humans have found and continue to find many solutions to the problems of survival. We must fulfill our needs for shelter, food, companionship, etc. But we have a lot of flexibility in exactly how we do this. The incredible variety and creativity of solutions that people have found become apparent when studying in a field like history (and probably anthropology, too). I love learning how different peoples have organized their societies: the religions and culture and social structures, the ethics and cuisine and mythologies.

In addition, if there are so many different ways we have organized our societies, than that tells me that this particular one is not the immutable reality. That means there is also hope for change. We can do things differently, because we have already done them differently in the past. I wrote a whole theoretical paper going into this in more detail - if anyone is interested, I can post it here (here, actually).

As some of you know, I'm currently working on an MA in History (and International Relations) and considering applying to do a PhD. Problem is, I am interested in everything and have such trouble deciding what to focus on. But I'm pretty sure at least that I want to stay in the field of history.

Earth Hour - Because We Hunger to be Part of Something Bigger than Ourselves

Cynics love to attack popular campaigns, and that is exactly what is happening with Earth Hour.

"Won't Earth Hour be a failure if the entire city doesn't go dark?" a friend asked last week of the campaign to have residents and businesses in the Greater Toronto Area and around the world turn out their lights at 8 p.m. this Saturday for an hour to show support for action on climate change.

"Do you really think turning off your lights for an hour is going to change anything?" my friend added. "Isn't it just a feel-good thing? And why is the Star involved at all in it? Shouldn't a newspaper be a fair and neutral observer?"

Such skepticism isn't limited to my cynical friends. A columnist for The Globe and Mail this week labelled Earth Hour "a sham," a "racket," "flimflammery."

Any doubt I may have had about the phenomenon that is Earth Hour was erased earlier this month when I walked into an arena in Ajax for my regular Monday night hockey league game. There, in the main entrance, was a huge Earth Hour poster touting an event to be held Saturday night at the Ajax town hall as part of the community's plan to mark the campaign.

That poster drove home the message that, cynics excepted, Earth Hour has touched a chord with Canadians like nothing else in recent years. <Toronto Star>

I don't think anyone imagines that shutting off our lights for an hour is going to change the world. It will save some carbon, but only a relatively tiny amount. The vast carbon pumping machine of world industry and commerce will go on as usual. But, well, it might be cool.


Many of you reading this will remember the great 2003 blackout. A disaster, on the one hand, but at the same time, it was an experience. That first night, it was extremely hot, and extremely dark. People came out of their homes and into the streets and yards of the city. We all blinked - the stars! We could see the stars!

Nobody really knew what was going on, but someone with a car would listen to the news and then people would talk, and soon we all knew this wasn't a terrorist attack or the end of the world or anything. I finally met my upstairs neighbours. Everyone was sharing their ice cream, since it would have melted anyways. The pizza place (with a gas oven) was selling slices (cash only) by candlelight. My drunk next-door neighbour (yes, the naked one), proud owner of a pair of flashlights, tried to direct traffic at a nearby intersection but soon gave up. In fact that night (once the horrible commute was over!) people tended to walk instead of drive. If they did drive, they drove slowly. The whole city was transformed. It was actually quite beautiful.


It wasn't really the darkness that caused the togetherness. It was being forced to pause the hyperactive drive. For that night, we took a break from the run around: We need so damn many things/ To keep our dazed lives going/We can be bound, run around/ Fooled animal bite its tail

No television to watch, too dark to read, too hot to stay indoors. All that was left was interacting with fellow humanity. I think in our market-driven super-capitalist individualist society, we crave this, we hunger for it. I think we want to be part of something bigger than ourselves. That is why people go to church, and that is why we will participate in Earth Hour. Plus, it's a great excuse to get out in the city for a free concert or one of the other cool events.

Heaven and Hell: A Parable

A rabbi was talking with God about Heaven and Hell.

"Come," said God. "Walk with me, and I will show you Hell."

And together they walked into a room of cold, rough stone. In the center of the room, atop a low fire, sat a huge pot of quietly simmering stew. The stew smelled delicious, and made the rabbi's mouth water. A group of people sat in a circle around the pot, and each of them held a curiously long-handled spoon. The spoons were long enough to reach the pot; but the handles were so ungainly that every time someone dipped the bowl of their spoon into the pot and tried to maneuver the bowl to their mouth, the stew would spill. The rabbi could hear the grumblings of their bellies. They were cold, hungry, and miserable.

"And now," God said, "I will show you Heaven."

Together they walked into another room, almost identical to the first. A second pot of stew simmered in the center; another ring of people sat around it; each person was outfitted with one of the frustratingly long spoons. But this time, the people sat with the spoons across their laps or laid on the stone beside them. They talked, quietly and cheerfully with one another. They were warm, well-fed, and happy.

"Lord, I don't understand," said the rabbi. "How was the first room Hell; and this, Heaven?"

God smiled. "It's simple," he said. "You see, they have learned to feed each other."
(Temple Sinai Congregation of Toronto)
Charles K. 8/21/06 <source>

I had read this in Craig and Mark Keilbugers Me to We as a Japanese parable, featuring super long chopsticks (similar to this or this version). I thought it was a nice story, especially after this.

"Stories are wondrous things. And they are dangerous"

We are the stories we tell ourselves. Or, as Thomas King puts it: "The truth about stories is that that's all we are."

If I grow up being told I am a kind and generous person, always willing to lend a hand to help a fellow human in need, there's a good chance I will take this on as part of my identity, and become a kind and generous person. Certainly it is more likely than if I had been told all my life I am a mean and selfish goodfernuthin'.

If we tell ourselves that what it means to be human is to be a rational self-interested individual, for which the greatest good is to act selfishly in the marketplace of life, well then we should not be surprised if we become greedy self-serving assholes, gleefully counting our giant SUVs and plasma TVs while children die of malnutrition outside our gated communities.

If we tell ourselves a great epic story of the world as a Clash of Civilizations, we should not be surprised that our illustrious leaders invade other countries, you know, defensively, pre-emptively. Because it is our duty to shore up civilization against the invading barbarians who hate us for our... um... freedom to wear a bikini and watch American Idol.

What other stories do we tell ourselves?

An argument against essentialist modes of thinking

From Typecasting: On the Arts and Sciences of Human Inequality*:

Despite its aura of certitude, classification is never a neutral act. Naming is a form of exercising power, and the ways that things are named often reflect the outlook of the namer.

This makes me think of Foucault's The Order of Things which contains an anecdote that I think well illustrates how our seemingly neutral and sensible methods of classification really are sort of odd and arbitrary:

This passage quotes a "certain Chinese encyclopaedia" in which it is written that "animals are divided into: (a) belonging to the Emperor, (b) embalmed, (c) tame, (d) sucking pigs, (e) sirens, (f) fabulous, (g) stray dogs, (h) included in the present classification, (i) frenzied, (j) innumerable, (k) drawn with a very fine camel hair brush, (l) et cetera, (m) having just broken the water pitcher, (n) that from a long way off look like flies". In the wonderment of this taxonomy, the thing we apprehend in one great leap, the thing that, by means of the fable, is demonstrated as the exotic charm of another system of though, is the limitation of our own, the stark impossibility of thinking that.

Why can't we think that? Does it make any less sense than our own essentialist system of biological classification, which was invented in the 18th Century by a notable racist and based on the then-normal ideal of stratification?

If Lennaeus's method created a tool for modern science, it still used the metaphor of monarchy as a way of framing the order of things. Plants and animals constituted two natural kingdoms (regna naturae). Within these kingdoms, a hierarchy of classes, orders, genera, and species provided categories by which all life forms, plant and animal, were classified. In a world where many still saw hierarchy and inequality as natural, taxonomy provided a tangible ratification of this belief.
[...]
Not only did monarchy supply a defining imagery for understanding nature, but the Linnaean system also validated prevailing inequalities of gender... Even though many plants are hermaphroditic and do not conform to customary definitions of gender, Linnaeus emphatically described plants in terms of their male and female parts, with so-called dominant parts designated male, submissive parts female.

Interesting that this is the same basic system of taxonomy that we learn in school today.

Stephen Jay Gould (yay!) argues that this essentialist paradigm needs to be reexamined, not only because it is incorrect and misleading, but also because of its negative impact on our social organization - for instance the reemerging field of scientific racism (beloved of intellectual bedfellows SDA and IQ fetishist Richard Lynn among others - recently discussed here). He says "Nature comes to us as continua, not discrete objects with clear boundaries".

Essentialism establishes criteria for judgement and worth: individual objects that lie close to their essence are good; those that depart are bad, if not unreal... Antiessentialist thinking forces us to view the world differently. We must accept shadings and continua as fundamental...

The taxonomic essentialist scoops up a handful of fossil snails in a single species, tries to abstract an essence, and rates his snails by their match to this average. The antiessentialist sees something entirely different in his hand -- a range of irreducible variation defining the species, some variants more frequent than others, but all perfectly good snails.

We know what the previous outcomes were of scientific racism: the Atlantic slave trade, the Nazi's "final solution", South African apartheid... certainly these were not the most noble moments in our human history. So why are these theories rearing their ugly heads again?

*By the way, this is a fascinating book. There are several cheap copies at the fantastically huge BMV on Bloor St in Toronto - I got mine for only $4.99

Guilt, Privilege and the Pain of Living in a World of Domination

Someone close to me is in pain because he feels marginalized for who he is: a white male.

He's basically a "gender-blind", "colour-blind" regular Nice Guy^TM who believes in equality for all. He sees people as human first and wants the same from others. The common definitions of sexist and/or racist (seen as individual attitudes or prejudices) do not apply to him.

But there's a deeper, structural understanding of racism & sexism as a system of power that goes far beyond any individual beliefs or discrimination. In other words, we are all racist and sexist because we participate (i.e. live) in a racist, patriarchal system of dominance. That doesn't mean we're all Ann Coulter. It also doesn't remove our responsibility to try to do something about the system.

As a feminist, anti-racist activist, this interests me, of course. This is a situation in which all the theories I read are pretty irrelevant - here there is pain; there is real anger and hurt.

This young man hurts because he is labeled privileged, simply because he's a white male, something he did not choose and cannot change. But as a youth who grew up poor, in a household with violence, in an unhelpful school system with bullies, believe me, he had no silver spoon. He looks at his life and asks a very fair question: how can this be what privilege looks like?

If it wasn't someone I care about I could perhaps blithely respond: yes there is privilege, if you don't see it it's because you don't have to (your denial proves your privilege and dominance, which is maintained precisely because of its invisibility to those who possess it), there's nothing more to discuss. Of course, that is me talking to the figurative, metaphorical, representation which is "White Man", not to every real individual white man. This is is the real world, and individuals have real feelings and experiences that cannot be adequately captured in such simple statements. As progressives I believe we don't want to alienate those who are trying to make the world a better place, especially by hurting them. That simply drives them into the arms of the right-wingers: Might as well get a shotgun and a gas guzzler and become a real racist sexist prick, since that is what I'm assumed to be anyways.

When we are able and have the energy to do so, I think there is a point to helping those with privilege learn how to accept and understand it, so they can become our allies, even as we continue to learn about our own privilege, and how we ourselves perpetuate oppressions.

The truth is, privilege and oppression are extremely complex. White people and men of different backgrounds have different levels of access to social resources, power and status. Economic class, language, sexual orientation, age, ethnicity, even the neighbourhood a person lives in makes a difference. Aside from the intersection of many forms of oppression exist other contradictory examples. Here's one for ya: Patriarchy harms men. Patriarchy privileges men. I believe those two statements are not mutually exclusive.

From Pain and Progress (on the awesome XY site):

Because sexism hurts all men as well as women the ending of sexism is entirely in the interests of all men and all women. The "privileges" of patriarchy are paltry compared to the enormous cost we pay to maintain them. We give up so much of our humanness to become sexist patriarchs and no man who could clearly see what he has lost and is still losing by maintaining patriarchy would hesitate to give it all up. For example the power accorded to us by patriarchy is as nothing compared to the joy of real human connections to other people, men, women and children, based on equality and true relationship. We can't exercise this power and have truly equal relationships with women.

Interestingly, marginalization is at issue here too. Now we know that it is the white male perspective that is the "invisible" perspective: the universal position of imagined objectivity. Those on the margins have historically been silenced. Recognizing viewpoints that come from different experiences is an important part of our work. This does not necessarily mean that an individual white male is given a forum or platform (which are of course not identical to the dominant mainstream white supremacist viewpoint), meaning our theories do not resonate within him. They don't jive with his experience, so he may turn away from feminism and anti-racist activism completely.

I think growing our movements and building coalitions means trying to understand the pain we all experience as both oppressors and oppressed.

From Trauma and Oppression, Chapter 4 of Power-Under: Trauma and Nonviolent Social Change, from which I've quoted before:

One of the distinctive features of our social/economic/political system is the way in which it parcels out privilege and power-over. While there are enormous concentrations of wealth, status and power at the top, there are also infinite gradations of economic, social and political standing throughout the rest of the society. The result is that while virtually everyone is oppressed in some significant way, almost everyone also has access to some type of privilege and to one or more oppressor roles. This is an aspect of what Aurora Levins Morales calls the "interpenetration of institutional systems of power."
[...]
Most white people and most heterosexuals and most able-bodied people and most people who hold wealth beyond their needs simply think of themselves as normal, and think of their privileges as something that they have earned or that they deserve or that give them some modicum of social value and self-respect. People from oppressed constituencies who aspire to privilege and dominance surely do not think in terms of aspiring to become oppressors, but in terms of achieving statuses and positions from which they have been categorically excluded.

At the other end of the spectrum, when people identify as victims of oppression, it can all too easily block their willingness or ability to recognize the ways in which they also hold privilege and dominant roles.
[...]
As victims we are understandably preoccupied with our own experience of being acted upon in utter disregard for our worth as human beings. Our suffering unavoidably fills up our entire psychological landscape and – to the extent that we are politically conscious of oppression – our political landscape. The overwhelming impact of trauma can make it difficult or impossible to believe that the suffering of other oppressed groups could be as serious or as profound as our own.

I know this has been a long and rambling post. I'd be interested to hear other thoughts on this.

How the Cult of Busy Protects Capitalism

I have a confession to make. The other day I was reading Ways to begin gutting Capitalism (and this - Strategies that have Failed), and the first thing that I thought was yeah, but who has TIME for this. Neighbourhood associations, local currencies, growing my own food, it all sounds great, but geez, there's practically no time to eat and sleep any more let alone adding all that face time with people. (I'm also kind of shy, but that's another issue altogether.)

As regular readers know, I'm quitting my job of 9 years and going back to school, and the more I think about it the happier I am about this decision. The truth is, I have a great job, with good pay, a fair bit of autonomy, and great co-workers. But it's not nourishing me. And I have no time to even contemplate a change in my daily routine, such as would be necessary to get more involved in my community. I used to be time rich and cash poor. Now, relatively speaking, I'm cash rich and time poor. I wouldn't really call that progress.

But it's hard to give up busy. There's a certain pride I take in my work and accomplishments, and having a schedule that isn't completely full feels, well, empty. But that's the whole point, isn't it? That unstructured time, that space in the interstices between appointments, is where the mind plays. That's where imagination, creativity, and problem solving all function their best.

So I know all of this, and I accept it. That's why I'm taking about six weeks off (well, I'm taking one class) before full time school starts, and looking forward to it. Despite this, I worry what others will think of me. People might think I'm an unproductive member of society, lazy, morally deficient, stupid, ungodly, whatever. What's this insecurity all about? See, somehow there's this equivalent between how hard a person works in the paid sphere, or how much money she makes, how busy she is, and her moral value. Oh, and the stuff she consumes - people who own BMWs and Audis are superior to people who take the bus, because clearly they work harder.

Let's wrap up. The measure of our moral character is equivalent to our busy-ness. Extra points for each hour of sleep debt incurred. Working so hard to buy more things that take up our time (video games, television, cars, big houses) leaves us us too exhausted to organize. How convenient for capitalism

Fighting Amongst Ourselves for the Scraps

One of my favourite Canadian blogs has a very interesting conversation going on in the comments of this post, as explained here. To sum up, there's a Nice White Guy who feels Indiginous peoples have unfair advantages, and Scott has some very compassionate and well-argued points. I urge everyone to go and read.

I've been hearing and reading versions of this conversation everywhere lately. The well-meaning, hard-working white guy has a tougher and tougher time making it these days. He looks back, feeling nostalgic for a time that seems simpler; the time before the women's movement, before civil rights, before various other liberation struggles. There's a tendency among many regular working class people to blame those who are below them in the heirarchy but catching up, rather than those at the top who are keeping everyone down. Thus you have increasing fear, and a huge backlash against so many of the progressive reforms hard fought and won. Vicious anti-feminism, anti-immigration, and that sort of soft reactionary racism that is common these days (such as the belief in reverse discrimination).

See, on the left, we usually see the rise of neoliberalism as one of the main causes of the increasing difficulties for the white middle class. We blame those at the very top, and their cheerleaders and supporters in the market fundamentalist government, corporate media, and think tanks. Most (though not all) of these people are white, wealthy, Christian, hetero men. That doesn't mean we blame white people, the wealthy, Christians, heteros, or men.

The nostalgic past in which life was simple and good for a hardworking everyman was experienced by a minority of white Westerners. The 50s look very different to a black woman in the US, or an aboriginal person in Canada, an Algerian in Algeria, or a Palestinian in a refugee camp.

The last few decades have seen amazing struggles, many successes, and many setbacks. I certainly don't want to bedgrudge any group the rights they fought so hard for. I want them to have more. I want us to have more. That's what social justice is about. If I may use a dog-and-meat-metaphor: we should not be fighting amongst ourselves for the scraps, but going after those who are eating the prime rib. (Well, more precisely those structures that dole out prime rib to some and scraps to the rest.)

Feeling Like a Victim, Acting Like a Perpetrator

We have learned about the cycles of abuse within families, about the way a child who is beaten and abused can grow up believing there are only two choices, victim and perpetrator, and can become an adult who feels like a victim while acting like a perpetrator.

But, somehow, as activists, we have failed to see the immense implications of that knowledge for the work of social change.

Over and over I see movements of liberation get stuck at the same place, the moment when we "other" the agents of our oppression, without trying to understand why they are as they are and how we can prevent more people being that way in the future. If we even begin to ask those questions, we are rapidly drawn to the places where we ourselves have been most deeply wounded.

In the exact place where it is most difficult to understand how anyone could do as our enemies have done, and still be human, in the exact moment when they cease to be our kin in our imaginations, is the place of greatest potential illumination.

From the forward to Power Under: Trauma and Nonviolent Social Change

This is important for understanding how men, white people, Westerners, rich people are at once victims and perpetrators. Capitalism, patriarchy, war, racism, it all relies on one common value, which is the precise antithesis of equality: domination. This motif, "dominate or be dominated", runs throughout our lives and our history - we learn it at a very young age. But some groups, simply by virtue of their privileged social position or status, fall on the dominating side, while others fall on the dominated side. Most fall somewhere in between, as the quote above says, feeling "like a victim while acting like a perpetrator".

How can this understanding help our movements? What kinds of choices can we make in our personal, our political, and our social lives to overcome the whole structure, instead of simply trying to change our position within it?

Related Reads:

• Privilege Is Driving a Smooth Road And Not Even Knowing It
  
• Empathy and Power
• Inventing Whiteness
  
• Validating the Suffering of the Palestinians
  
• The Perpetrator as Victim, too
  
• Just a few thoughts
  
• Authoritarianism in America
  

She Hit Me First! And Other Poor Justifications for War

Photo Credit

Yesterday, I was watching the (excellent and engaging) film I Know I'm Not Alone with D.S.

In the segment before Michael Franti goes to Israel and the Occupied Territories there's a few short statements to fill in some background. To paraphrase: "In relation to Israel there's as many versions of history as there are people telling it" and then "in 1967 Israel launched a pre-emptive strike". At which point D.S. said that was weird, because he knows Israel was attacked first. He was a kid at the time, but it wasn't history to him, he actually remembered it. He was in synagogue when it was announced and he remembers it very well. For me I learned something different, but then again, it's history to me (since I wasn't born yet). I said it's complicated figuring who started something, especially when you consider the possible biases of those reporting an event. Consider last summer's war with Lebanon. Who started it? 30 or 40 years from now, what will the history book say?

According to the current consensus at Wikipedia (yeah, I know, but still, it's a good resource) it was a pre-emptive strike by Israel, although they have a nice long list of sources for both sides of the debate.

Today, I stumbled on a piece (ha ha) by Daniel Gilbert which is all about the psychology behind the "he started it" argument.

Research shows that while people think of their own actions as the consequences of what came before, they think of other people’s actions as the causes of what came later.

In a study conducted by William Swann and colleagues at the University of Texas, pairs of volunteers played the roles of world leaders who were trying to decide whether to initiate a nuclear strike. The first volunteer was asked to make an opening statement, the second volunteer was asked to respond, the first volunteer was asked to respond to the second, and so on. At the end of the conversation, the volunteers were shown several of the statements that had been made and were asked to recall what had been said just before and just after each of them.

The results revealed an intriguing asymmetry: When volunteers were shown one of their own statements, they naturally remembered what had led them to say it. But when they were shown one of their conversation partner’s statements, they naturally remembered how they had responded to it. In other words, volunteers remembered the causes of their own statements and the consequences of their partner’s statements.

What seems like a grossly self-serving pattern of remembering is actually the product of two innocent facts. First, because our senses point outward, we can observe other people’s actions but not our own. Second, because mental life is a private affair, we can observe our own thoughts but not the thoughts of others. Together, these facts suggest that our reasons for punching will always be more salient to us than the punches themselves — but that the opposite will be true of other people’s reasons and other people’s punches.

So, it's psychologically sensible for us to think the other party started it. We also tend to escalate in our response:

Research teaches us that our reasons and our pains are more palpable, more obvious and real, than are the reasons and pains of others. This leads to the escalation of mutual harm, to the illusion that others are solely responsible for it and to the belief that our actions are justifiable responses to theirs.

This explains the pattern of fighting over the victim position, since the victim can get away with anything.

Of course, there's a larger question: does it really matter who started it?

Afghanistan war: who started it? Al-Qaeda? The US? How about the Iraq War? What will history say?

Last Night I Dreamt of War

Last night I dreamt of war. I dreamt the nameless, faceless attackers were getting close to my house. We needed to get away, and we weren't certain exactly how close they were.

The first moment of panic came when realizing that everybody would be trying to escape. If a whole city is emptying, we were likely to get stuck on the highway - it's like just waiting for certain death. I momentarily considered hiding in the basement, but couldn't stand the thought of waiting in the dark to be found and killed, not that way.

I was trying to pack things I would need in my backpack. My dream here slowed down as I tried to plan what to take. I was going through all the stuff that I surround myself with, the stuff that forms the nest which helps me feel at home. But with such scarcity of space, few things could be taken. That meant choosing between necessities and keepsakes. Is an extra pair of pants more important than a photo album?


Living as I do in the comfort of the peaceful Western World, I can't truly know what it must be like to have one's country invaded. One day to be going about your life, expecting the next day to be much the same, and then suddenly it all changes. No longer can you imagine your future. Survival becomes the only goal.

My nightmares are others' realities.

All I can do is imagine - try to open myself to experience just a little bit of the pain and terror and anger. I think my nightmares help me to be more empathetic. I have a lot of them (I'm recovering from PTSD) and in a weird way I think they help me to be a better human being.

Trying to understand things from the point of view of the other is so crucial, and yet I see such a lack of it from our so-called leaders. It's as if they are afraid to show there's more than one possible view or interpretation. Better to stick to what you're doing, even if what you're doing is walking off a precipice, I guess, then to say: "now that I'm closer to it and have a different perspective, I see this is a cliff, so I'm going to go the other way instead."

Perhaps positions of power simply attract particular personality types. After all, if no one suffers like George and Laura, you'd think they'd be a little more compassionate.

The Perpetrator as Victim, Too

This is a note from a young, thoughtful man who has a lot of significance to say. To understand the minds of our youth, it is important to listen to them. So read this:

I'm dead tired of them demonizing the shooters. People fail to see the shooter himself as a victim as well. A victim of exclusion, bullying, beatings, ridicule and being ignored. The most frustrating thing is that I can relate to these shooters. I feel like every time they criticise them they indirectly criticise me. Another very frustrating thing is that they dodge the issue of ignorance. If I go to someone for help, and they criticise, ignore or admonish me, will I bother? I got lucky there were no firearms readily available and just got forced to quit school. I wonder if only two students who had it coming ended up on the news, what would people say? Poor guys, boo-hoo, nice guys, what a shame. How about a couple witnesses saying that they pushed him too far, they had it coming. It's no different than silencing the protests to the war on Iraq. They only keep one side of the story. Then you hear the typical opinion of a prof. of psychology. My mom and dad still maintain that it was my fault that I "quit" school. I've still got that beef with them. They didn't help much. But Mr. [xxx] (principal of [xxxx]) is still in my black books. I still want him dead, I just don't want to do it myself. I need to speak out about the FACT that the SHOOTER was VICTIMISED without being told how insensitive and mean and evil I am. I want to save lives. I want bullies to get expelled on the first offence and sent to juvie for assault and harassment like any other criminal. Once you can't get away with something, people don't do it as much. Then comes the problems of popular kids sticking up for popular kids, getting bullies off the hook or other kids (maybe 12 of them) saying YOU'RE a bully and getting YOU expelled. How come a kid can break another kid's arm and watch him scream with a smile on his face, before some other kid gets a teacher. If you can resolve the REAL problem (bullies, ignorance etc.) you won't usually have to deal with the RESULT (the shootings) as often. I want to do something about this. Any ideas?

Written by Emerson MacIntosh.

How is it that a 24 year old understands this, but our politicians and pundits can't seem to wrap their heads around it?

It's extremely hard to grow up in this hyper-individualized super-paced and highly complex world. The widening poverty/wealth gap, isolation, bullying, pressure to conform, child abuse, pressure to succeed, and a culture of violence have their effects on the children who will one day be the adults running the world.

If we insist on fearing and pathologizing the emotions and behaviour that are an inevitable result of the society we live in, we only alienate these kids even more. Is it any wonder that depression, eating disorders, partner violence, binge drinking, and drug abuse are common among kids and young adults?

One example: anger. Our society doesn't demonstrate healthy ways of dealing with anger, a normal natural emotion. Kids learn either that anger is bad and shouldn't be felt, or they learn that anger is best expressed through violence (at least if they watch TV - and I'm not even talking about Rambo, watching a White House press conference is enough to give that message).

Also on the Virginia Tech massacre

Violence at Virginia Tech and at Iraq's Universities Unacceptable

Think about how you felt when you heard about the terrible tragedy that happened yesterday at Virginia Tech. Think of those 33 innocent people who were killed, for no good reason, while they were going about their business. They had futures, which are now gone. They have families who loved them and who are devastated. Their friends, lovers, parents, neighbours, teachers, and even strangers like us are mourning their loss. There is fear among students and their families - what if this happens again? What if it's my school next? What if it is my son or daughter?

Now think about this: Iraqis face this every day.

Innocent Iraqi students, who also have bright futures, and families who love them, are killed or fear being killed every day.

Photo by Wathiq Khuzaie/Getty, from Iraqslogger.com
Students look at the scene of two explosions in front of Mustansiriya University on January 16.

The nation reacted in horror as students counted their dead by the dozens, all innocent victims of an indiscriminate attack violating the sanctity of the university campus.

Today, it’s Virginia Tech, the site of a horrific mass murder in which at least 33 students are confirmed dead in a shooting rampage by an as-yet unidentified gunman.

In Iraq, universities struggling to operate in the midst of a war zone have been struck repeatedly by bombings, shootings, assassinations, and abductions that have left behind hundreds of killed and wounded, victims and forced thousands of students and professors to stay away, or even leave the country.

On Monday, the same day as the Virginia Tech mass shooting, two separate shooting incidents struck Mosul University, one killing Dr. Talal Younis al-Jelili, the dean of the college of Political Science as he walked through the university gate, and another killing Dr. Jaafar Hassan Sadeq, a professor from the Faculty of Arts at the school, who was targeted in front of his home in the al-Kifaat area, according to Aswat al-Iraq.

In January, Baghdad’s Mustansiriya University sufferred a double suicide bombing in January that killed at least 70 people, including students, faculty, and staff. A month later, another suicide bomber struck at Mustansiriya, killing 40.

Read the rest of the article from Iraqslogger.com.

Yesterday as we huddled around our TVs and Radios, listening to the events at Virginia Tech and the subsequent analysis, we were putting ourselves in the place of those affected by the violence. We were imagining what if it was our son, our daughter, our wife or husband, or ourselves who were killed. We were experiencing our natural human gift of empathy. Universally there was an opening of hearts. What happened yesterday was a tragedy, and I think as human beings, we all feel the pain of those who suffered.

A wise woman I know once said: "When a heart breaks, it opens, and it can become a powerful force for love in this world". I hope our hearts stay open to help us feel the pain of others in the world, and I hope we are inspired to act and stop letting thugs kill and destroy, indiscriminately ruining countless lives.

Oh right, but I forgot. The most important thing is to make sure nobody worries about losing their right to bear arms.

Inspired by this and this.

If You Prepare for War, That's What You are Likely to Get

Anthony Arnove:

Eugene Debs wrote in a letter to the New York Sun in 1915, "If... the United States were to prove in good faith that it is opposed to the barbarism and butchery of war by issuing a proclamation of peace, and itself setting the example of disarmament to the nations of the world, its preparedness would be, not only in accordance with its vaunted ideals, but a thousandfold greater guarantee to the respect of its neighbors and to its own security and peace than if it were loaded down with all the implements of death and destruction on earth."

Howard Zinn:

Debs was talking about "preparedness" because the war in Europe had begun and, although the United States was not yet in the war, people were beginning to talk about preparedness for war. The American military is building up, and Debs sees this coming. He argues that the best thing we can do is to declare our belief in peace and to stop preparedness for war. You prepare for war, and then the momentum is created for going to war. We have seen that repeatedly.

Quoted from Terrorism and War, and interview with Howard Zinn.

Also see Sunk Costs, a concept in Behavioural Economics. In Sum: If you pay for it, you wanna know it isn't going to waste, even if what you use it for is irrational and doesn't benefit you.

Inventing Whiteness

Who is white? What are the criteria? Is it the paleness of one's skin? If that were the case then Takao Ozawa (1922) would have been granted naturalization, since his skin was white. But he was Japanese, so the Supreme Court determined that white meant Caucasian.

So a white person is someone who is Caucasian? Well... not exactly. When an immigrant from India, Bhagat Singh Thind (1923), attempted to gain citizenship by arguing that he was Caucasian. He was rejected, using a weird non-definition of white, appealing to the authority of the common man, whoever he is: "the average man knows perfectly well that there are unmistakable and profound differences" between a South Asian and a white person.

As any sociologist will tell you, race is meaningful only as a social construction. There's no significant difference between "races", except for their shared experiences (i.e. ethnicity or cultural differences of course, but mostly the shared experience of being discriminated against, being designated "other"). Whiteness in America was constructed as a legal system designed to economically benefit a small elite, by entrenching disadvantages for most groups.

It was also designed to "divide & conquer", to prevent the feared solidarity between white indentured servants and black slaves. (see People's History of the United States)

There's no essential "white". Neither is there a monolithic group of "non-whites". The connecting thread among so many diverse groups is that experience of being excluded from certain things that white people take for granted - being marginalized.

For a really interesting discussion about the complexities of marginalization, read Intersectional Identity by Thinking Girl.

Today is International Day for the Elimination of Racial Discrimination. Check out this research project: Discrimination in the Job Market: Are Emily and Greg More Employable than Lakisha and Jamal?

Also read the 10th Erase Racism carnival.

Validating the Suffering of the Palestinians

Susan Nathan explores how to address the suffering of the Palestinians without pointlessly resorting to comparisons of whose suffering is worse. Showing how the Palestinians are suffering validates the Palestinian experience, but it in no way reduces the horrors experienced by Jews in the Holocaust.

It asks for all people to open their hearts, and recognize the common quality to all such human tragedies.

The apparent inability of Jews in Israel and the Diaspora to address the true roots of the Middle East conflict and accept their role in the Palestinians' suffering is given an alibi by their fears, which are in turn stoked by stories in the media of the ever-present threat of anti-Semitism, a Jew-hatred in both Europe and the Arab world that, we are warned, has troubling echoes of the period before the Second World War. A disproportionate part of the media coverage of anti-Semitism concentrates on tarring critics of Israel with this unpleasant label. Anyone who has disturbing things to say about what Israel is doing the the Palestinians is, on this interpretation, an anti-Semite. I have little doubt that the motivation of Israel's defenders in many cases is to silence the critics, whether their criticisms are justified or not.

My own critique of Israel - that it is a state that promotes a profoundly racist view of Arabs and enforces a system of land apartheid between the two populations - risks being treated in the same manner. So how does one reach other Jews and avoid the charge of anti-Semitism? Given the sensitivities of Jews after their history of persecution, I think it helps it we distinguish between making a comparison and drawing a parallel. What do I mean? A comparison is essentially a tool for making quantitative judgments: my suffering is greater or lesser than yours, or the same. Jews have a tendency to demand exclusive rights to certain comparisons, such as that nothing can be worse than the Holocaust, because it involved the attempt to kill a whole people on an unprecedented scale. Anyone who challenges that exclusive right, for example by suggesting that Israel is trying to ethnically cleanse the Palestinians from their homeland, is therefore dismissed as an anti-Semite. The debate immediately gets sidetracked into the question of whether the argument is anti-Semitic rather than whether it is justified.

Drawing a parallel works slightly differently. It refuses, rightly, to make lazy comparisons. Israel is neither Nazi Germany nor apartheid South Africa. It is unique. Instead, a parallel suggests that people can find themselves in similar circumstances, or that one set of events can echo another. Even more important, the emotions people feel in these circumstances may share some of the same quality. That common quality is what allows us to see their suffering as relevant and deserving of recognition, without dragging us into a debate about whose suffering is greater.

From The Other Side of Israel: My Journey Across the Jewish/Arab Divide, written by Susan Nathan. Emphasis mine.

On Privilege and What We Can do About It

Came across this excellent post today: "Check my What? On Privilege and What We Can do About It. Some tips on going from pro-equality in spirit to pro-equality in deed".

A really good explanation of what privilege means, with some concrete suggestions of how to deal with it. Tells us to accept the fact that privilege exists, learn to listen so we can understand what our privilege means, and then gives tips on how to communicate (including some tips on respectful language, and dealing with minority spaces). One of the most important specifics is, I think, is the advice to recognize "it's not about you". Basically anyone who has any sort of privilege oughtta read it: men, white people, heteros, rich people, etc.

It seems to be an opportune time to post about this, considering the conversations that have been raging in this corner of the blogosphere lately. More to come.

Read the whole thing.

Also recommended for a good primer on some of the effects of privilege vs. discrimination: The Color of Wealth: The Story Behind the US Racial Wealth Divide, previously blogged about here.

UPDATE: Check out Classified: How to Stop Hiding Your Privilege and Use it for Social Change. You can even download a whole copy here.

The Joy of Giving: An Alternative Economic Theory

Mauss' conclusions were startling. First of all, almost everything that "economic science" had to say on the subject of economic history turned out to be entirely untrue. The universal assumption of free market enthusiasts, then as now, was that what essentially drives human beings is a desire to maximize their pleasures, comforts and material possessions (their "utility"), and that all significant human interactions can thus be analyzed in market terms. In the beginning, goes the official version, there was barter. People were forced to get what they wanted by directly trading one thing for another. Since this was inconvenient, they eventually invented money as a universal medium of exchange. The invention of further technologies of exchange (credit, banking, stock exchanges) was simply a logical extension.

The problem was, as Mauss was quick to note, there is no reason to believe a society based on barter has ever existed. Instead, what anthropologists were discovering were societies where economic life was based on utterly different principles, and most objects moved back and forth as gifts – and almost everything we would call "economic" behavior was based on a pretense of pure generosity and a refusal to calculate exactly who had given what to whom. Such "gift economies" could on occasion become highly competitive, but when they did it was in exactly the opposite way from our own: Instead of vying to see who could accumulate the most, the winners were the ones who managed to give the most away. In some notorious cases, such as the Kwakiutl of British Columbia, this could lead to dramatic contests of liberality, where ambitious chiefs would try to outdo one another by distributing thousands of silver bracelets, Hudson Bay blankets or Singer sewing machines, and even by destroying wealth – sinking famous heirlooms in the ocean, or setting huge piles of wealth on fire and daring their rivals to do the same.

All of this may seem very exotic. But as Mauss also asked: How alien is it, really? Is there not something odd about the very idea of gift-giving, even in our own society? Why is it that, when one receives a gift from a friend (a drink, a dinner invitation, a compliment), one feels somehow obliged to reciprocate in kind? Why is it that a recipient of generosity often somehow feels reduced if he or she cannot? Are these not examples of universal human feelings, which are somehow discounted in our own society – but in others were the very basis of the economic system? And is it not the existence of these very different impulses and moral standards, even in a capitalist system such as our own, that is the real basis for the appeal of alternative visions and socialist policies? Mauss certainly felt so.

In a lot of ways Mauss' analysis bore a marked resemblance to Marxist theories about alienation and reification being developed by figures like György Lukács around the same time. In gift economies, Mauss argued, exchanges do not have the impersonal qualities of the capitalist marketplace: In fact, even when objects of great value change hands, what really matters is the relations between the people; exchange is about creating friendships, or working out rivalries, or obligations, and only incidentally about moving around valuable goods. As a result everything becomes personally charged, even property: In gift economies, the most famous objects of wealth - heirloom necklaces, weapons, feather cloaks – always seem to develop personalities of their own.

In a market economy it's exactly the other way around. Transactions are seen simply as ways of getting one's hands on useful things; the personal qualities of buyer and seller should ideally be completely irrelevant. As a consequence everything, even people, start being treated as if they were things too. (Consider in this light the expression "goods and services.") The main difference with Marxism, however, is that while Marxists of his day still insisted on a bottom-line economic determinism, Mauss held that in past market-less societies – and by implication, in any truly humane future one – "the economy," in the sense of an autonomous domain of action concerned solely with the creation and distribution of wealth, and which proceeded by its own, impersonal logic, would not even exist.

Mauss was never entirely sure what his practical conclusions were. The Russian experience convinced him that buying and selling could not simply be eliminated in a modern society, at least "in the foreseeable future," but a market ethos could. Work could be co-operatized, effective social security guaranteed and, gradually, a new ethos created whereby the only possible excuse for accumulating wealth was the ability to give it all away. The result: a society whose highest values would be "the joy of giving in public, the delight in generous artistic expenditure, the pleasure of hospitality in the public or private feast."

The whole article, Via Porcupine Blog

Humanitarian War in Afghanistan?

Readers of this blog know I do not buy the official justification for the invasion of Afghanistan. I don't believe for a second the Harper Government (or the Bush Administration) has altruistic motives.

However, many kind and caring Canadians, even some progressives, support the war in Afghanistan. They are motivated by the pathos of seeing burka-clad women, starving children, and terrified old men in desert-like landscapes. Their line of reasoning goes something like this: if our army can supply security and help the Afghans rebuild, why shouldn't we support it?

Leaving the ethics of invading and occupying another country (even to supposedly help that country), let's address this pragmatically. If we assume our motives are "pure" why are so many Afghan people against our continued occupation?

I think the simplest answer is that we have failed in convincing them we are on their side. (Again I'll reiterate: our government's motives are anything but pure, but many regular people support the war for altruistic reasons.)

To growing numbers of Afghans, the NATO-led forces are an enemy similar to the Russians who tore this country apart in the 1980s. People even blame suicide attacks directly or indirectly on the soldiers. (RAWA)

The Soviets used the same sort of rhetoric as does NATO, trying to gain popular support among the Afghan people. They said their invasion was defensive. They said they were providing aid and security, and a better political and economic system (Soviet Communism). We say we are responding to Al-Qaeda's 9/11 attack (i.e. our invasion was defensive). We say we are providing aid and security, and a better political and economic system (Democracy and Capitalism).

What the Afghan people saw was the Soviets' illegitimate intervention in their own internal affairs, lack of respect for their culture and customs, and "brutal and clumsy attempts to introduce radical changes in control over agricultural land holding and credit, rural social relations, marriage and family arrangements, and education" which "led to scattered protests and uprisings among all major communities in the Afghan countryside." (Wikipedia)

The parallels are actually quite striking. How can we expect war-weary Afghans to trust us, when we are committing so many of the same mistakes? This is why we cannot "win" this war by military means.

The occupation needs to end, so people have the opportunity to heal their country, but this can't even begin until there is some goal of peace on Afghan terms. We'll need to find a way to provide security and aid - under the direction of the Afghan people themselves, in a format they themselves are comfortable with. We need to really understand what the Afghan people want, and stop pretending we are doing what's best for them.

Listen to an interview with a former Soviet army soldier who fought in Afghanistan, as he compares and contrast Canada's involvement in Afghanistan with that of the Soviet Union.