THROUGH ME THE WAY INTO THE SUFFERING CITY,--Dante Alighieri
THROUGH ME THE WAY TO THE ETERNAL PAIN,
THROUGH ME THE WAY THAT RUNS AMONG THE LOST.
JUSTICE URGED ON MY HIGH ARTIFICER;
MY MAKER WAS DIVINE AUTHORITY,
THE HIGHEST WISDOM, AND THE PRIMAL LOVE.
BEFORE ME NOTHING BUT ETERNAL THINGS
WERE MADE, AND I ENDURE ETERNALLY.
ABANDON EVERY HOPE, WHO ENTER HERE.
Wednesday, January 26, 2005
On starting the day with the latest news
Tuesday, January 25, 2005
Go Team Venture!
If you don't know the show, Venture Bros. is a show on Cartoon Network, a kind of snarky satire on the old Hanna Barbera "Jonny Quest" cartoon from the '60's. It features Dr. Venture, his two sons (the brothers of the title), and their bodyguard. And, of course, since this is an "action" show and a cartoon, recurring "enemies."
The enemies are part of the obvious satire on the genre itself. The self-proclaimed "arch-nemesis" of Dr. Venture, for example, is The Monarch, a guy running around in a crown and butterfly wings. And why is he the arch-nemesis of Dr. Venture, a man with few redeeming qualities but seemingly not much of an impact on the world at large? Because, explains the Monarch, "That's what I do!"
You have to fall back on that kind of explanation to make sense out of the "enemies" the President says now beset us. These enemies, he still solemnly intones, and his Administration still solemnly intones, "hate us because they hate our freedom." In other words, it's what they do. How can you have heroes, if you don't have enemies, huh?
It's a slippery term, "enemies," when you come to employ it. You can have antagonists, like Voldemort and Draco Malfoy in the world of Harry Potter. You can have "bad guys," necessary for every new installment of the James Bond cinematic series. And the question of motivation seldom requires much exposition: they hate the hero, or are jealous, or want to take over the world. It doesn't take much in fiction. But in reality, enemies require a bit more explanation.
In fact, it is almost entirely a term limited to nations. Armies have enemies, because that's what they do: they protect nations from "enemies." Are the enemies real? Yes, and no. In the famous World War I event during Christmas, when soldiers stood in no-man's land and shared brandy and soccer with their "enemies," the notion of a personal enemy disappeared, and the idea of a national enemy was so depleted the generals had to ban any such contact for the rest of the war.
But even in reality, enemies usually have a motivation, be it lebensraum in Europe, or dominance of the Pacific theater, or just the desire to spread Communism (the latter being the largely chimerical reason for the motivation of the Viet Cong). Whatever the motivation, it cannot be one shared by the hero. James Bond may be lustful, but he is never greedy or power-mad. Harry Potter may be angry, but he can't get angry enough to pronounce an Unforgivable Curse. Voldemort is driven by anger and shame at being a "mudblood." The villians of action movies are driven sometimes simply by "evil."
And always, cartoon and comic book villians are just...villians. Their villainy is their motivation. But we can't transfer that directly to reality; so we translate it, instead. Rather than villiany, the motivation is envy. They hate our "light." They want to put it out. They hate our freedom. It motivates them to destroy.
Why are "they" our "enemy"? Because that's what they do.
Welcome to statecraft as cartoon show. May God have mercy on us all.
The enemies are part of the obvious satire on the genre itself. The self-proclaimed "arch-nemesis" of Dr. Venture, for example, is The Monarch, a guy running around in a crown and butterfly wings. And why is he the arch-nemesis of Dr. Venture, a man with few redeeming qualities but seemingly not much of an impact on the world at large? Because, explains the Monarch, "That's what I do!"
You have to fall back on that kind of explanation to make sense out of the "enemies" the President says now beset us. These enemies, he still solemnly intones, and his Administration still solemnly intones, "hate us because they hate our freedom." In other words, it's what they do. How can you have heroes, if you don't have enemies, huh?
It's a slippery term, "enemies," when you come to employ it. You can have antagonists, like Voldemort and Draco Malfoy in the world of Harry Potter. You can have "bad guys," necessary for every new installment of the James Bond cinematic series. And the question of motivation seldom requires much exposition: they hate the hero, or are jealous, or want to take over the world. It doesn't take much in fiction. But in reality, enemies require a bit more explanation.
In fact, it is almost entirely a term limited to nations. Armies have enemies, because that's what they do: they protect nations from "enemies." Are the enemies real? Yes, and no. In the famous World War I event during Christmas, when soldiers stood in no-man's land and shared brandy and soccer with their "enemies," the notion of a personal enemy disappeared, and the idea of a national enemy was so depleted the generals had to ban any such contact for the rest of the war.
But even in reality, enemies usually have a motivation, be it lebensraum in Europe, or dominance of the Pacific theater, or just the desire to spread Communism (the latter being the largely chimerical reason for the motivation of the Viet Cong). Whatever the motivation, it cannot be one shared by the hero. James Bond may be lustful, but he is never greedy or power-mad. Harry Potter may be angry, but he can't get angry enough to pronounce an Unforgivable Curse. Voldemort is driven by anger and shame at being a "mudblood." The villians of action movies are driven sometimes simply by "evil."
And always, cartoon and comic book villians are just...villians. Their villainy is their motivation. But we can't transfer that directly to reality; so we translate it, instead. Rather than villiany, the motivation is envy. They hate our "light." They want to put it out. They hate our freedom. It motivates them to destroy.
Why are "they" our "enemy"? Because that's what they do.
Welcome to statecraft as cartoon show. May God have mercy on us all.
And it's 1, 2,3--What are we fightin' for?
Have to be careful about reaching conclusions on matters of responsibility until all the facts are in. As my torts professor used to say: "Change the facts, change the outcome."
Mr. Sullivan, in his book review, noted that:
But was the message mixed, after all? Or were there, instead, two messages? ONe for public consumption, one for covert action. Is this, in other words, a matter where yet another Administration wanted to exercise "plausible deniability."
Those ACLU documents are already producing evidence of the latter, or at least reasons to raise the question. From Dan Froomkin, today:
Indeed.
Mr. Sullivan, in his book review, noted that:
...Bush clearly leaned toward toughness. Here's the precise formulation he used: ''As a matter of policy, the United States Armed Forces shall continue to treat detainees humanely and, to the extent appropriate and consistent with military necessity, in a manner consistent with the principles of Geneva.'' (emphasis in original)
Notice the qualifications. The president wants to stay not within the letter of the law, but within its broad principles, and in the last resort, ''military necessity'' can overrule all of it. According to his legal counsel at the time, Alberto R. Gonzales, the president's warmaking powers gave him ultimate constitutional authority to ignore any relevant laws in the conduct of the conflict. Sticking to the Geneva Convention was the exclusive prerogative of one man, George W. Bush; and he could, if he wished, make exceptions. As Assistant Attorney General Jay S. Bybee argues in another memo: ''Any effort to apply Section 2340A in a manner that interferes with the president's direction of such core war matters as the detention and interrogation of enemy combatants thus would be unconstitutional.'' (Section 2340A refers to the United States law that incorporates the international Convention Against Torture.)
The president's underlings got the mixed message.
But was the message mixed, after all? Or were there, instead, two messages? ONe for public consumption, one for covert action. Is this, in other words, a matter where yet another Administration wanted to exercise "plausible deniability."
Those ACLU documents are already producing evidence of the latter, or at least reasons to raise the question. From Dan Froomkin, today:
There's a string of redacted e-mails in the file on [on particular torture] case in which military officials discuss the White House's interest.
One officer writes to another: "Any update? I realize you are doing your best; however MOI [Ministry of Interior] guys are under a lot of pressure from the White House. . . . Any information you have on progress would help placate those that are seeking the answers and keep the pressure off us."
The other officer asks: "When you say White House, what exactly are you referring to?"
The first officer replies: "When I say the White House, I mean that this request is being handled by the President's personal staff. This request was forwarded to the President from Prime Minister [redacted]'s office. [Redacted] Special Assistant [redacted] has taken a personal interest in this woman and her case."
But that investigation, like the others, did not result in any criminal charges. I wonder if Special Assistant [redacted] ever mentioned that to anyone higher in the chain of command.
Indeed.
Ship of Fools
Gore Vidal was interviewed on Democracy Now! and made a quite convincing argument that America has an absolutely terrible educational system. I can only speak from my experience, and I have no basis for comparison. Vidal grounds it in American ignorance of the world and of history, something he has more knowledge about than I. It is, of course, easy to make a persuasive case for it today, if a cynical one. But his comments prompted me to think about the subject.
A few years ago, the big concern among Americans was, supposedly, "smart Asians." Asian culture, we were told, valued education. It is, they said, a heritage of Confucionism. And undoubtedly that is true: culture plays a powerful role in human society; it is practically the "genetics" of a society, and changing it or shifting it is a generations long process, not a matter of mere "enlightenment" or "revelation" to a lucky few.
But that's still too broad a canvas. Vidal was speaking of a few things, a few topics, those things he knows something about. It made me think of the subjects I know something about. Recently, I've been engaged in discussions, briefly, with references to various books that presume the "scandal" that would erupt if the "historical truth" of Jesus of Nazareth could be proven. If, for example, someone were to prove the corpse of Jesus never left the tomb; or that Mary had other children, and was not perpetually a virgin; or that Jesus was the product of a human father and mother, not a virgin birth. Or if people knew that stories of virgin births and resurrections were common coin in 1st century Palestine, and are not unique in human cultures or human history.
All of this, of course, if it ever became "known," would mean the downfall of Western civilization, the collapse of the church, the death of faith and God, once and for all. And a great shock to the priest and pastors, to boot. Except I learned every one of those theories in seminary.
John Dominic Crossan, author of an exhaustive "biography" of Jesus of Nazareth, a former Jesuit and himself still a Christian, states quite bluntly that the body of Jesus of Nazareth was tossed into a pauper's grave and probably devoured by dogs. I know this because I studied his book in seminary, and met Professor Crossan when he spoke there. This isn't scandal. It's scholarship.
Vidal says "we are shameful when we go abroad, because we know nothing." We don't know, he says, that Babylon is a center of western civilization, yet American troops went in there and "smashed everything to bits." Because they are mean? No, says Vidal, because they are ignorant. It is certainly the root of the stereotyped "Ugly American."
I can read columns in the Guardian savagely critiquing Christianity, things much more harsh than anything I've read in any comment on the Web. And I can read columns by churchmen, priests in the Anglican church, which are quite reasonable in their beliefs, men and women of faith in the world. Such columns in any major American paper would bring howls of outrage for blasphemy, on one hand, or insufficient piety, on the other. Why? In large part, because of our willful ignorance.
I come across someone occassionally, for example, who argues that Jesus of Nazareth never existed. Except the scholarly consensus, among Jewish, Christian, and even agnostic/atheistic Biblical scholars and historians, is that he did. The argument I hear is based on a tiny exposure to the questions of the 19th century, of Albert Schweitzer and others. These same people have no knowledge of the work of Gerhard von Rad, Rudolf Bultmann, or many of the German and other scholars of the 19th and 20th centuries, and their applications of various schools of criticism to scriptures and scholarship. Having learned a little bit, these people I encounter think they know more than anyone else. And they do; but they are still woefully ignorant. As Vidal says, we don't know history and don't want to know history. I'm not sure we know much of anything; nor do we seem to want to know much of anything. So do we blame the teachers, or the priests and pastors; or is it the fault of the people, the ultimate arbiters of the culture?
I don't presume, of course, that many Europeans have read through Bultmann's commentary on the Gospel of John, or bothered to study the scholarship that concluded the Torah was composed of J, E, D, and P, or that the authors of Matthew and Luke relied on a "Q" document for much of their information. But this information, all of which is now more than a century old, some of it almost 150 years old, is only now being spoken of, largely in whispers, among "liberal" Christian congregations. Why?
And the "conspiracy" theories, the idea that, if it were proven Mary was not an eternal virgin, that Jesus didn't have a bodily resurrection, that such "proof" would undo Western civilization. Where does one start in assessing such ignorance? As if these things could be "proven," as if Western civilization rested on such thin reeds, as if the massive edifice of the church was one vast expert conspiracy of silence! As if the Christian church in the world was a massive edifice in the first place! Why?
Doesn't it start with education? Doesn't it start with the willingness to learn? The pressures on schools to repress knowledge, is massive. From textbooks approved in Texas that affect the rest of the nation, to controversy over "school prayer" and "sex education," to the school district superintendent who was afraid to let my former church advertise a "Hallowe'en party" for the poor children of the nearby school because some parents might think my church was promoting Satanic worship (a true story!): I understand the depth, scope, reach, of the problem.
But we convince ourselves that all is well, that we are good, that the problems are not fundamental, merely cosmetic, merely a matter of political party or dominance or control or motivating enough of a majority. And I wonder: is that all there is? Is it that simple, that direct a task? Do we only need to redirect a few voters, change a few public officials, gain a slim majority of control in a few places, to redirect this ship of the nation?
Or is it quite willfully and quite desperately, a ship of fools?
A few years ago, the big concern among Americans was, supposedly, "smart Asians." Asian culture, we were told, valued education. It is, they said, a heritage of Confucionism. And undoubtedly that is true: culture plays a powerful role in human society; it is practically the "genetics" of a society, and changing it or shifting it is a generations long process, not a matter of mere "enlightenment" or "revelation" to a lucky few.
But that's still too broad a canvas. Vidal was speaking of a few things, a few topics, those things he knows something about. It made me think of the subjects I know something about. Recently, I've been engaged in discussions, briefly, with references to various books that presume the "scandal" that would erupt if the "historical truth" of Jesus of Nazareth could be proven. If, for example, someone were to prove the corpse of Jesus never left the tomb; or that Mary had other children, and was not perpetually a virgin; or that Jesus was the product of a human father and mother, not a virgin birth. Or if people knew that stories of virgin births and resurrections were common coin in 1st century Palestine, and are not unique in human cultures or human history.
All of this, of course, if it ever became "known," would mean the downfall of Western civilization, the collapse of the church, the death of faith and God, once and for all. And a great shock to the priest and pastors, to boot. Except I learned every one of those theories in seminary.
John Dominic Crossan, author of an exhaustive "biography" of Jesus of Nazareth, a former Jesuit and himself still a Christian, states quite bluntly that the body of Jesus of Nazareth was tossed into a pauper's grave and probably devoured by dogs. I know this because I studied his book in seminary, and met Professor Crossan when he spoke there. This isn't scandal. It's scholarship.
Vidal says "we are shameful when we go abroad, because we know nothing." We don't know, he says, that Babylon is a center of western civilization, yet American troops went in there and "smashed everything to bits." Because they are mean? No, says Vidal, because they are ignorant. It is certainly the root of the stereotyped "Ugly American."
I can read columns in the Guardian savagely critiquing Christianity, things much more harsh than anything I've read in any comment on the Web. And I can read columns by churchmen, priests in the Anglican church, which are quite reasonable in their beliefs, men and women of faith in the world. Such columns in any major American paper would bring howls of outrage for blasphemy, on one hand, or insufficient piety, on the other. Why? In large part, because of our willful ignorance.
I come across someone occassionally, for example, who argues that Jesus of Nazareth never existed. Except the scholarly consensus, among Jewish, Christian, and even agnostic/atheistic Biblical scholars and historians, is that he did. The argument I hear is based on a tiny exposure to the questions of the 19th century, of Albert Schweitzer and others. These same people have no knowledge of the work of Gerhard von Rad, Rudolf Bultmann, or many of the German and other scholars of the 19th and 20th centuries, and their applications of various schools of criticism to scriptures and scholarship. Having learned a little bit, these people I encounter think they know more than anyone else. And they do; but they are still woefully ignorant. As Vidal says, we don't know history and don't want to know history. I'm not sure we know much of anything; nor do we seem to want to know much of anything. So do we blame the teachers, or the priests and pastors; or is it the fault of the people, the ultimate arbiters of the culture?
I don't presume, of course, that many Europeans have read through Bultmann's commentary on the Gospel of John, or bothered to study the scholarship that concluded the Torah was composed of J, E, D, and P, or that the authors of Matthew and Luke relied on a "Q" document for much of their information. But this information, all of which is now more than a century old, some of it almost 150 years old, is only now being spoken of, largely in whispers, among "liberal" Christian congregations. Why?
And the "conspiracy" theories, the idea that, if it were proven Mary was not an eternal virgin, that Jesus didn't have a bodily resurrection, that such "proof" would undo Western civilization. Where does one start in assessing such ignorance? As if these things could be "proven," as if Western civilization rested on such thin reeds, as if the massive edifice of the church was one vast expert conspiracy of silence! As if the Christian church in the world was a massive edifice in the first place! Why?
Doesn't it start with education? Doesn't it start with the willingness to learn? The pressures on schools to repress knowledge, is massive. From textbooks approved in Texas that affect the rest of the nation, to controversy over "school prayer" and "sex education," to the school district superintendent who was afraid to let my former church advertise a "Hallowe'en party" for the poor children of the nearby school because some parents might think my church was promoting Satanic worship (a true story!): I understand the depth, scope, reach, of the problem.
But we convince ourselves that all is well, that we are good, that the problems are not fundamental, merely cosmetic, merely a matter of political party or dominance or control or motivating enough of a majority. And I wonder: is that all there is? Is it that simple, that direct a task? Do we only need to redirect a few voters, change a few public officials, gain a slim majority of control in a few places, to redirect this ship of the nation?
Or is it quite willfully and quite desperately, a ship of fools?
"These things that with myself I too much discuss, too much explain."
Andrew Sullivan reviewed two books in the NYTimes Book Review last Sunday, both concerning Abu Ghraib, neither of them by Seymour Hersh. In the course of a lengthy review he made an obligatory ad hominem swipe at Hersh, and even at Mark Danner, whose book he was reviewing, but he also argues that the "buck" in the chain of command only barely reaches up to Bush's desk only because Bush excluded al Qaeda from the protections of the Geneva Convention (proving Mr. Sullivan is not an expert in international law), but then in a back door manner included al Qaeda again because, basically, the U.S. "doesn't do torture."
Someone, of course, should tell him about the School of the Americas.
Lawyers learn early in their careers to never say "never," and to always expect a new document or witness to turn up and transform their finely crafted defense into so much smoking ash. Per First Draft this morning, and a report on NPR, the ACLU has now done just that to Mr. Sullivan's argument.
Mr. Sullivan persuades himself, far too early in the day, it turns out, that Mr. Danner's exhaustive review of documents surrounding Abu Ghraib and Gitmo is enough to allow us all to reach conclusions about who did what, and why. Unfortunately for this argument, neither Mr. Dunn nor Mr. Sullivan has seen all the documents. The ACLU representative interviewed on NPR said the ACLU is convinced there are many more documents still to be released. Which can only mean any conclusions about how far up the chain of command responsibility for the torture in Abu Ghraib and Gitmo goes, are premature. As are any conclusions that the reach is limited, that the abuses and torture are, ultimately, the fault of someone below those held responsible for the actions of people under their command, because those in command are responsible for allowing such people to be under their command in the first place, or for setting the "tone" of what is permitted on their "watch."
To be fair, Mr. Sullivan seems to understand this:
How do we love our enemy? Well, who is "our" enemy? And why?
Someone, of course, should tell him about the School of the Americas.
Lawyers learn early in their careers to never say "never," and to always expect a new document or witness to turn up and transform their finely crafted defense into so much smoking ash. Per First Draft this morning, and a report on NPR, the ACLU has now done just that to Mr. Sullivan's argument.
Mr. Sullivan persuades himself, far too early in the day, it turns out, that Mr. Danner's exhaustive review of documents surrounding Abu Ghraib and Gitmo is enough to allow us all to reach conclusions about who did what, and why. Unfortunately for this argument, neither Mr. Dunn nor Mr. Sullivan has seen all the documents. The ACLU representative interviewed on NPR said the ACLU is convinced there are many more documents still to be released. Which can only mean any conclusions about how far up the chain of command responsibility for the torture in Abu Ghraib and Gitmo goes, are premature. As are any conclusions that the reach is limited, that the abuses and torture are, ultimately, the fault of someone below those held responsible for the actions of people under their command, because those in command are responsible for allowing such people to be under their command in the first place, or for setting the "tone" of what is permitted on their "watch."
To be fair, Mr. Sullivan seems to understand this:
And the damage done was intensified by President Bush's refusal to discipline those who helped make this happen. A president who truly recognized the moral and strategic calamity of this failure would have fired everyone responsible.... The man who paved the way for the torture of prisoners is to be entrusted with safeguarding the civil rights of Americans. It is astonishing he has been nominated, and even more astonishing that he will almost certainly be confirmed.I don't quote this to disagree with him. I quote it to point out the danger of moral blindness, the disaster that inevitably follows on treating your "enemy" as someone or even something, that must be stopped. "Getting rid of this cancer" is a more pervasive problem than Mr. Sullivan's epiphany recognizes. The cancer is violence itself. We cannot privilege violence in one case, and condemn it in others. It will not stay so nicely caged, so surely under our control, so definitely in our grasp. Murphy's Law always applies, and it even more so when violence is invoked in the name of "us." Is it really possible to fight a "war" against "evil"? Are we really that ignorant, that arrogant, that naive, to believe such a thing is possible, or that we are the ones "chosen" to prosecute it? "Getting rid of this cancer...[in order to win]...the war" is unintentionally ironic: war is the cancer. The question is: how do we remove it?
But in a democracy, the responsibility is also wider. Did those of us who fought so passionately for a ruthless war against terrorists give an unwitting green light to these abuses? Were we naïve in believing that characterizing complex conflicts from Afghanistan to Iraq as a single simple war against ''evil'' might not filter down and lead to decisions that could dehumanize the enemy and lead to abuse? Did our conviction of our own rightness in this struggle make it hard for us to acknowledge when that good cause had become endangered? I fear the answer to each of these questions is yes.
American political polarization also contributed. Most of those who made the most fuss about these incidents - like Mark Danner or Seymour Hersh - were dedicated opponents of the war in the first place, and were eager to use this scandal to promote their agendas. Advocates of the war, especially those allied with the administration, kept relatively quiet, or attempted to belittle what had gone on, or made facile arguments that such things always occur in wartime. But it seems to me that those of us who are most committed to the Iraq intervention should be the most vociferous in highlighting these excrescences. Getting rid of this cancer within the system is essential to winning this war.
How do we love our enemy? Well, who is "our" enemy? And why?
Monday, January 24, 2005
Preliminary explorations
Love requires:
1) complete vulnerability by the lover (the agent acting on love)
2) relationship with the object of one's love (the beloved).
Let it be noted there are obviously different kinds of love, or different emotions, relationships, interests, wants, needs, denoted by "love." Kierkegaard alone argued for sharp distinctions between the selfishness of erotic love, and the self-lessness of married love, in Either/Or. And then there is the whole question of love in Plato's Symposium, and again in Kierkegaard's Stages on Life's Way. Indeed, Kierkegaard, coming in no small part from his Romantic European culture, considered human love something developed in maturity as one moved from selfishness to self-lessness, and the highest form of this love is the most self-less, embodied, for Johannes de Silentio, in the "Knight of Faith."
The question of whether one disciplines a child out of "love" is forced out by 1) above, if only because the exertion of authority (power) required in such a situation obviates the vulnerability necessary in the definition. Is all discipline of children based on love? We say so today, but in Victorian England, for example, where "children should be seen but not heard," discipline was meant to impose social order on a bestial nature. Indeed, the notion of valuing children as human beings (and thus "loving" them, as the common parlance has it) is a post-industrial, bourgeois sentiment, made possible more by the luxury of being able to raise children qua "children," rather than as hands in securing the family's existence. "Love" (like hospitality) will always have culturally specific limitations to its definition. But we have to eliminate as many of those as possible in order to get at the paradox of "love your enemies."
1) complete vulnerability by the lover (the agent acting on love)
2) relationship with the object of one's love (the beloved).
Let it be noted there are obviously different kinds of love, or different emotions, relationships, interests, wants, needs, denoted by "love." Kierkegaard alone argued for sharp distinctions between the selfishness of erotic love, and the self-lessness of married love, in Either/Or. And then there is the whole question of love in Plato's Symposium, and again in Kierkegaard's Stages on Life's Way. Indeed, Kierkegaard, coming in no small part from his Romantic European culture, considered human love something developed in maturity as one moved from selfishness to self-lessness, and the highest form of this love is the most self-less, embodied, for Johannes de Silentio, in the "Knight of Faith."
The question of whether one disciplines a child out of "love" is forced out by 1) above, if only because the exertion of authority (power) required in such a situation obviates the vulnerability necessary in the definition. Is all discipline of children based on love? We say so today, but in Victorian England, for example, where "children should be seen but not heard," discipline was meant to impose social order on a bestial nature. Indeed, the notion of valuing children as human beings (and thus "loving" them, as the common parlance has it) is a post-industrial, bourgeois sentiment, made possible more by the luxury of being able to raise children qua "children," rather than as hands in securing the family's existence. "Love" (like hospitality) will always have culturally specific limitations to its definition. But we have to eliminate as many of those as possible in order to get at the paradox of "love your enemies."
The Deer's Cry
So NPR this morning has just reported that "the [military] reserves are shot," and that our nation's ability to fight in Iraq will be seriously impaired, if not impossible, within a year's time. All this due to the Pollyanna-ish visions of the so-called "neo-cons."
And my disgust is not with that alone, or with the broken state of the military, a state now so obvious NPR can announce it in a headline (i.e., almost without further explication being required); not with the fact that Bush has indeed broken everything he touches, or that Rumsfeld is so grossly incompetent he should be impeached, and Gonzalez and Rice shouldn't even get a hearing, much less ever be confirmed. No, my disgust is over the number of lives this has cost, and will cost: American lives, Iraqi lives, what does the political designation matter? "America" is just a political idea, "Iraq" another one. We are talking about the deaths of human beings, not of different creatures from different planets or even different levels and values of existence. I do not value life as the Hindu religion teaches, but does that mean I must devalue it to the point that only legal distinctions determine whose deaths I mourn?
What else, then, is there to do, but pray? Not for them, yet; for me. For me, that I might be able to pray for them.
And my disgust is not with that alone, or with the broken state of the military, a state now so obvious NPR can announce it in a headline (i.e., almost without further explication being required); not with the fact that Bush has indeed broken everything he touches, or that Rumsfeld is so grossly incompetent he should be impeached, and Gonzalez and Rice shouldn't even get a hearing, much less ever be confirmed. No, my disgust is over the number of lives this has cost, and will cost: American lives, Iraqi lives, what does the political designation matter? "America" is just a political idea, "Iraq" another one. We are talking about the deaths of human beings, not of different creatures from different planets or even different levels and values of existence. I do not value life as the Hindu religion teaches, but does that mean I must devalue it to the point that only legal distinctions determine whose deaths I mourn?
What else, then, is there to do, but pray? Not for them, yet; for me. For me, that I might be able to pray for them.
I arise today through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity, through belief in the Threeness, through confession of the Oneness of the Creator of creation. Salvation is of the Lord. Salvation is of the Lord. Salvation is of Christ. May Thy Salvation, O Lord, be ever with us. Amen.
I bind unto myself today the strong Name of the Trinity, by invocation of the same, the Three in One and One in Three.
I bind this day to me forever, by power of faith, Christ's incarnation; His baptism in the Jordan River; His death on the cross for my salvation; His bursting from the spiced tomb; His riding up the heavenly way; His coming on the day of doom; I bind unto
myself today.
I bind unto myself the power of the great love of Cherubim; the sweet "Well done" in judgment hour; the service of the Seraphim, Confessors' faith, Apostles' word, the Patriarchs' prayers, the Prophets' scrolls; all good deeds done unto the Lord, and purity of simple souls.
I bind unto myself today the virtues of the starlit heaven, the glorious sun's life-giving ray, the whiteness of the moon at even, the flashing of the lightning free, the whirling wind's tempestuous shocks, the stable earth, the deep salt sea, around the old eternal rocks.
I bind unto myself today the power of God to hold and lead, his eye to watch, his might to stay, his ear to hearken to my need. The wisdom of my God to teach, his hand to guide, his shield to ward; the Word of God to give me speech, his heavenly host to be my guard. Against the demon snares of sin, the vice that gives temptation force, the natural lusts that war within, the hostile ones that mar my course; or few or many, far or nigh, in every place, and in all hours, against their fierce hostility, I bind to me these holy powers. Against all Satan's spells and wiles, against false words of heresy, against the knowledge that defiles, against the heart's idolatry, against the wizard's evil craft, against the death wound and the burning, the choking wave and poisoned shaft, protect me Christ, till your returning.
Christ be with me, Christ within me, Christ behind me, Christ before me, Christ beside me, Christ to win me, Christ to comfort and restore me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me, Christ in quiet, Christ in danger, Christ in hearts of all that love me, Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.
I bind unto myself the Name, the strong Name of the Trinity; by invocation of the same: The Three in One, and One in Three, of whom all nature has creation: Eternal Father, Spirit, Word, praise to the Lord of my salvation, salvation is of Christ the Lord.
Amen.
Sunday, January 23, 2005
Third Sunday of Epiphany, 2005
The Lectionary for the day: Psalm 139:1-11
LORD, you have searched me out and known me;
you know my sitting down and my rising up;
you discern my thoughts from afar.
You trace my journeys and my resting-places
and are acquainted with all my ways.
Indeed, there is not a word on my lips,
but you, 0 LORD, know it altogether.
You press upon me behind and before
and lay your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;
it is so high that I cannot attain to it.
Where can I go then from your Spirit?
where can I flee from your presence?
If I climb up to heaven, you are there;
if I make the grave my bed, you are there also.
If I take the wings of the morning
and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,
Even there your hand will lead me
and your right hand hold me fast.
If I say, "Surely the darkness will cover me,
and the light around me turn to night,
Darkness is not dark to you;
the night is as bright as the day;
darkness and light to you are both alike.
And a bit from one version of "St. Patrick's Breastplate:"
We'll return to the question of love and enemies tomorrow.
LORD, you have searched me out and known me;
you know my sitting down and my rising up;
you discern my thoughts from afar.
You trace my journeys and my resting-places
and are acquainted with all my ways.
Indeed, there is not a word on my lips,
but you, 0 LORD, know it altogether.
You press upon me behind and before
and lay your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;
it is so high that I cannot attain to it.
Where can I go then from your Spirit?
where can I flee from your presence?
If I climb up to heaven, you are there;
if I make the grave my bed, you are there also.
If I take the wings of the morning
and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,
Even there your hand will lead me
and your right hand hold me fast.
If I say, "Surely the darkness will cover me,
and the light around me turn to night,
Darkness is not dark to you;
the night is as bright as the day;
darkness and light to you are both alike.
And a bit from one version of "St. Patrick's Breastplate:"
Christ be with me, Christ within me, Christ behind me, Christ before me, Christ beside me, Christ to win me, Christ to comfort and restore me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me, Christ in quiet, Christ in danger, Christ in hearts of all that love me, Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.And last, the words of one of the communion hymns used at the worship service today:
They cast their nets in Galilee just off the hills of brown;
such happy, simple fisherfolk, before the Lord came down.
Contented, peaceful fishermen, before they ever knew
the peace of God that filled their hearts brimful, and broke them too.
Young John who trimmed the flapping sail, homeless in Patmos died,
Peter, who hauled the teeming net, head-down was crucifed.
The peace of God, it is no peace, but strife closed in the sod,
Yet let us pray for but one thing--the marvelous peace of God.
We'll return to the question of love and enemies tomorrow.
The Price of Terror Alerts
Terror alerts have, of course, disappeared from the news. My Netscape headlines inform me that 10 terrorists are now being sought in the Boston area, but the Department of Homeland Security no longer sees fit to notify FoxNews of the latest color code for fear and trembling.
It is just as well. I heard an administrator for one of the Harris County hospitals speak today. His hospital is a provider of last resort, for the working poor, those "too rich" for Medicare, etc. Most of their funding comes from the county, but that funding is flat in the last years, even as the need increased last year alone by 18%.
One reason the funding is flat, interestingly enough, is terror alerts. It seems the Harris County Commissioners are concerned about readiness for "bio-terrorism" threats and the like. Perhaps they should be. Perhaps all those color coded alerts Tom Ridge announced on a weekly basis were not just the boy crying wolf.
The situation in Boston, however, argues otherwise.
It is just as well. I heard an administrator for one of the Harris County hospitals speak today. His hospital is a provider of last resort, for the working poor, those "too rich" for Medicare, etc. Most of their funding comes from the county, but that funding is flat in the last years, even as the need increased last year alone by 18%.
One reason the funding is flat, interestingly enough, is terror alerts. It seems the Harris County Commissioners are concerned about readiness for "bio-terrorism" threats and the like. Perhaps they should be. Perhaps all those color coded alerts Tom Ridge announced on a weekly basis were not just the boy crying wolf.
The situation in Boston, however, argues otherwise.
Saturday, January 22, 2005
The First Problem
I have been working on some ideas related to hospitality, and on the way there, I had to formulate a "definition" of hospitality. That is, to find the elements that are basic to hospitality; that without which "hospitality" cannot be said to be present. The elements come down to three:
1) a place
2) a host
3) a guest.
Simple enough. Except the host must have exclusive control over the place; must be able to extend or withhold access to others, as hospitality is, first and foremost, granting access to a place. The only one who can grant such access, must be able to grant full, partial, or no (denial of) access to any other person. This is the ground of hospitality: making a place and what is owned therein, available to another. Further, the access must be total, to be true hospitality. Anything less is merely a shading of hospitality, a diminishing. Perhaps a proper diminishing, perhaps not; but still a diminishing, a lessening of "true" hospitality.
The only way to establish a spectrum, to determine whether a hard and fast answer will do or not, is first to establish the absolute concept from which one then can, or cannot, deviate.
The place itself must be physical. And the guest must be a stranger to the host. A complete stranger. Not a friend, a family member, a distant relative. A stranger. Wholly other.
The rigidity and particularity are essential for getting at just what hospitality "is," in distinction to all other forms of social intercourse. This limits hospitality greatly, but also takes it down to the "bare necessities" (I am avoidng the concept of "essence" here as much as possible; too Platonic for my metaphysics). This definition, for example, removes from consideration welcoming someone to a public place, such as a church. The welcomer has no exclusive right to access, and no right to deny access to any other. By definition, a church is a public place. Welcoming the stranger there is certainly an act of friendliness, kindness, compassion, sociability. But it is not hospitality.
Can "love" be comparably pared down to that which is essential? Isn't that, in fact, necessary, if we are going to grapple with the idea of "loving" our "enemies"? Because if we don't grapple with it, if we don't decide what "love" means in any context, and therefore in that context, how can we determine what we are called to do?
What would those elements be?
1) a place
2) a host
3) a guest.
Simple enough. Except the host must have exclusive control over the place; must be able to extend or withhold access to others, as hospitality is, first and foremost, granting access to a place. The only one who can grant such access, must be able to grant full, partial, or no (denial of) access to any other person. This is the ground of hospitality: making a place and what is owned therein, available to another. Further, the access must be total, to be true hospitality. Anything less is merely a shading of hospitality, a diminishing. Perhaps a proper diminishing, perhaps not; but still a diminishing, a lessening of "true" hospitality.
The only way to establish a spectrum, to determine whether a hard and fast answer will do or not, is first to establish the absolute concept from which one then can, or cannot, deviate.
The place itself must be physical. And the guest must be a stranger to the host. A complete stranger. Not a friend, a family member, a distant relative. A stranger. Wholly other.
The rigidity and particularity are essential for getting at just what hospitality "is," in distinction to all other forms of social intercourse. This limits hospitality greatly, but also takes it down to the "bare necessities" (I am avoidng the concept of "essence" here as much as possible; too Platonic for my metaphysics). This definition, for example, removes from consideration welcoming someone to a public place, such as a church. The welcomer has no exclusive right to access, and no right to deny access to any other. By definition, a church is a public place. Welcoming the stranger there is certainly an act of friendliness, kindness, compassion, sociability. But it is not hospitality.
Can "love" be comparably pared down to that which is essential? Isn't that, in fact, necessary, if we are going to grapple with the idea of "loving" our "enemies"? Because if we don't grapple with it, if we don't decide what "love" means in any context, and therefore in that context, how can we determine what we are called to do?
What would those elements be?
Does love have no end?
Two examinations of love:
Is love empathy? I may wish to save a child or a kitten from harm. Is that love? Or just sensitivity, empathy, some measure of compassion for living things?
Does love compel me to act? It may, but in what direction?
Is love ever reconcilable with an exertion of power?
Love is patient and kind. Love envies no one, is never boastful, never conceited, never rude; love is never selfish, never quick to take offence. Love keeps no score of wrongs, takes no pleasure in the sins of others, but delights in the truth. There is nothing love cannot face; there is no limit to its faith, its hope, its endurance. I Corinthians 13: 4-7 (REB)The words are so familiar they are one of the well worn stones in our cultural pockets, the common coinage that has all but lost its edge and its image, and so, its value. But take it at face value as a starting point (though not the definitive starting point, by any means); take it as a touchstone for our understanding of "love." How do our other understandings measure up to it, conflict with it, meet it halfway?
Is love empathy? I may wish to save a child or a kitten from harm. Is that love? Or just sensitivity, empathy, some measure of compassion for living things?
Does love compel me to act? It may, but in what direction?
Suppose, then, that there was a king who loved a maiden of lowly station in life. The king's heart was unstained by the wisdom (loudly enough proclaimed) unacquainted with the difficulties that the understanding uncovers in order to trap the heart and that give the poets enough to do and make their magic formulas necessary. His resolution was easy to carry out, for every politician feared his wrath and dared not even to hint at anything. Every foreign country trembled before his power and dared not to refrain from sending a congratulatory delegation to the wedding. And no cringing courtier, groveling before him, dared to hurt his feelings lesthis own head be crushed. So let the harp be tuned; let the poets' songs begin; let all be festive while erotic love celebrates its triumph, for erotic love is jubilant when it unites equal and equal and is triumphant when it makes equal in erotic love that which was unequal.Does love, indeed, have its limits, and then it compels us to act? Can we reconcile love, which endures all things and has no limits, with our inability to bear to see another suffer, which compels us to act to relieve their suffering? In Kierkegaard's parable, love compels the king to act, but love also keeps the king from acting. Love, we say, is patient. But who among us would be patient in the face of a child playing in a busy street? Can I reconcile these two: that love ideally is patient and endures all things, but love compels me to leap into the traffic and rescue that child? Is it really love that motivates me? Or something else, something as simple as common decency, or humanity? Empathy may contain compassion, but is empathy contained in love? If it is, then love endures most things, and there are some things it cannot face, and at some point it gives up hope and yields to more short-term solutions.
Then a concern awakened in the king's soul. Who but a king who thinks royally would dream of such a thing! He did not speak to anyone about his concern, for if he had done so, anyone of his courtiers would presumably have said, "Your Majesty, you are doing the girl a favor for which she can never in her lifetime thank you adequately." No doubt the courtier would arouse the king's wrath, so that the king would have him executed for high treason against his beloved, and thereby would cause the king another kind of sorrow. Alone he grappled with the sorrow in his heart: whether the girl would be made happy by this, whether she would acquire the bold confidence never to remember what the king only wished to forget-that he was the king and she had been a lowly maiden. For if this happened, if this recollection awakened and at times, like a favored rival, took her mind away from the king, lured it into the inclosing reserve of secret sorrow, or if at times it walked past her soul as death walks across the grave--what would be the gloriousness of erotic love then! Then she would indeed have been happier if she had remained in obscurity, loved by one in a position of equality, contented in the humble hut, but boldly confident in "her love and cheerful early and late. What a rich overabundance of sorrow stands here as if ripe, almost bending under the weight of its fertility, only awaiting the time of harvest when the thought of the king will thresh all the seeds of concern out of it. For even if the girl were satisfied to become nothing, that could not satisfy the king, simply because he loved her and because it would be far harder for him to be her benefactor than to lose her. And what if she could not even understand him-for if we are going to speak loosely about the human, we may well assume an intellectual difference that makes understanding impossible. What a depth of sorrow slumbers in this unhappy erotic love! Who dares to arouse it! (Soren Kierkegaard, Philosophical Fragments, tr. Howard V. Hong and Edna H. Hong, Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton Unversity Press, 1985, pp. 26-28)
Is love ever reconcilable with an exertion of power?
Friday, January 21, 2005
"What is this thing called 'love'?"
Judging from the comments so far, it is clear we don't get far before we run into the central problem: what does it mean to "love"? What are the actions associated with love? And do they, in any way, overlap the actions associated with power?
Problemata I
cervantes gets us started with this comment:
So, is love earned? Or is it given?
Romantic love is earned, obviously. And just as obviously, that is not the kind of love we are thinking about when we say, "Love your enemies." And is love about power, or powerlessness? In the case of love for another human being, either romantic love or filial love: is the purpose to exert power over the beloved? Or to be vulnerable before and with the beloved? And isn't such vulnerability predicated on the risk of being powerless, or abandoning all claims to power in the presence of something made better as you are made weaker?
Is love about gaining control? Is love about superior power, forces, abilities, strengths? Do we lock up criminals because we love them? Do we execute murderers because the State loves them so much? Of course not.
Are we, even, our brother's keeper? Are we obligated to stop someone from doing something we know is wrong? That is, in fact, the argument of fundamentalists who want to convert you to their beliefs. Some sincerely believe that you will be lost if they don't "save" you, and some even believe they will be lost if they don't "save" you. But it comes to the same thing: they must stop you from committing evil, even if "evil" as they define it, is simply the wrong belief, or even non-belief.
And finally: is loving your enemies about redeeming your enemies? Do you have that much authority? Do you have that much responsibility? Do you have, even, that power, the power of redemption or damnation?
Well, it seems to me that the first and foremost act of love one is obligated to perform for a gang of murderous thieves is to stop them from committing evil. This works in most systems of ethics, whether you are concerned about their karma, their immortal souls, or their dignity and possibility for fulfillment as living humans.
Once they are stopped, I can consider the possibility of redemption. But they have to earn it.
So, is love earned? Or is it given?
Romantic love is earned, obviously. And just as obviously, that is not the kind of love we are thinking about when we say, "Love your enemies." And is love about power, or powerlessness? In the case of love for another human being, either romantic love or filial love: is the purpose to exert power over the beloved? Or to be vulnerable before and with the beloved? And isn't such vulnerability predicated on the risk of being powerless, or abandoning all claims to power in the presence of something made better as you are made weaker?
Is love about gaining control? Is love about superior power, forces, abilities, strengths? Do we lock up criminals because we love them? Do we execute murderers because the State loves them so much? Of course not.
Are we, even, our brother's keeper? Are we obligated to stop someone from doing something we know is wrong? That is, in fact, the argument of fundamentalists who want to convert you to their beliefs. Some sincerely believe that you will be lost if they don't "save" you, and some even believe they will be lost if they don't "save" you. But it comes to the same thing: they must stop you from committing evil, even if "evil" as they define it, is simply the wrong belief, or even non-belief.
And finally: is loving your enemies about redeeming your enemies? Do you have that much authority? Do you have that much responsibility? Do you have, even, that power, the power of redemption or damnation?
Preliminary Expectorata
If you are going to follow the command to "Love your enemy," you first have to decide what the command means. What is "love," and how is it made active? What does it mean to claim "your"? And who, or what, is an "enemy"? Is the distinction dependent solely on you, or is it up to "them" as well?
And before you get that far, you have to grasp the paradox, firmly, despite the ontological thorns: if you "love" your enemy, are "they" still your "enemy"? Is it possible to conceive of "love" as an activity directed toward any person, and retain for that person the concept of "enemy"? Your enemy is not transformed by your hate. Surely George Bush or Dick Cheney couldn't care less what I think about them. Would my love transform them?
Or does it only affect me?
Is love, or hate, about securing the boundaries? Or is it about holding to the center?
In the spirit of Josh Marshall, we will obviously have much more to say about this. But hopefully, we'll actually get it said.
And before you get that far, you have to grasp the paradox, firmly, despite the ontological thorns: if you "love" your enemy, are "they" still your "enemy"? Is it possible to conceive of "love" as an activity directed toward any person, and retain for that person the concept of "enemy"? Your enemy is not transformed by your hate. Surely George Bush or Dick Cheney couldn't care less what I think about them. Would my love transform them?
Or does it only affect me?
Is love, or hate, about securing the boundaries? Or is it about holding to the center?
In the spirit of Josh Marshall, we will obviously have much more to say about this. But hopefully, we'll actually get it said.
"You have been told 'an eye for an eye....' "
In the New Testament, the idea of "enemy" has a real tang, a serious bite. New Testament scholars now agree, for example, that the image of Pilate negotiating with the crowd, offering Barabbas over Jesus, and deliberating over his execution with a a foreshadowing dream, is pure fiction. The historical Pontius Pilate apparently ordered crucifixions as casually as another would order eggs and sausage for breakfast. In fact, Pilate was so brutal the Romans finally removed him from his procurate. The Romans were brutal, but they understood the necessity of judgment, and Pilate was too brutal and quick to judge even for them.
Both Herods, too, come off as bloodthirsty. The first massacres all the males 2 and under in Bethlehem, according to Matthew. Later, Herod has John the Baptist's head served up to Salome on a platter. Just within the limits of the gospel stories alone, "enemies" has a much more serious bite than it does for our domestic politics.
Still, Jesus walked among the people who suffered under such tyrants, who daily lived with such brutality, and said: "Love your enemies." The phrase has become such a well-worn stone in our cultural pockets that it has no edges anymore. It is a phrase that deserves an edge, however. What does it mean, to "love your enemies"? How is it possible to love people who would kill you as easily as step on a roach? How is it possible to love people as morally and ethically blind as Dick Cheney, or George Bush, or Condoleeza Rice, or Alberto Gonzalez. How do we love people who promote torture as statecraft, who are obviously willfully blind to the consequences of their actions, who clearly live in a world so divorced from reality as to indicate psychosis?
People who differ from Pilate and Herod only in the degree to which they can punish their political enemies. How do we love them?
Both Herods, too, come off as bloodthirsty. The first massacres all the males 2 and under in Bethlehem, according to Matthew. Later, Herod has John the Baptist's head served up to Salome on a platter. Just within the limits of the gospel stories alone, "enemies" has a much more serious bite than it does for our domestic politics.
Still, Jesus walked among the people who suffered under such tyrants, who daily lived with such brutality, and said: "Love your enemies." The phrase has become such a well-worn stone in our cultural pockets that it has no edges anymore. It is a phrase that deserves an edge, however. What does it mean, to "love your enemies"? How is it possible to love people who would kill you as easily as step on a roach? How is it possible to love people as morally and ethically blind as Dick Cheney, or George Bush, or Condoleeza Rice, or Alberto Gonzalez. How do we love people who promote torture as statecraft, who are obviously willfully blind to the consequences of their actions, who clearly live in a world so divorced from reality as to indicate psychosis?
People who differ from Pilate and Herod only in the degree to which they can punish their political enemies. How do we love them?
Through the Looking Glass
I should be able to make something of this; but I can't.
Condoleeza Rice taking umbrage at Barbara Boxer's questions. Never once denying what she had said, never once acknowledging that what she said in response to Boxer, or Biden, was completely at odds with reality. When reality doesn't fit what you say, ignore reality. Condi Rice as the Red Queen from Alice in Wonderland, and soon to be the U.S. Secretary of State.
And word comes today that Alberto Gonzalez, still only White House Counsel, has declared that the U.S. anti-torture statutes don't reach beyond the waters to foreigners on foreign soil. And none of the definitions of torture or restrictions on use of torture agreed to or announced by this Administration, apply to the CIA.
Also today Dick Cheney tells Don Imus: "You look around at potential trouble spots, Iran is right at the top of the list." And, of course, " 'We don't want a war in the Middle East, if we can avoid it,' he said." Which makes you wonder what he thinks is going on in Iraq right about now.
The situation with this Administration has gone completely through the looking glass. It is now beyond comprehension. I don't think even Barbara Boxer understands that she is speaking in one language, and the Bush Administration is speaking in a language all its own, one that sounds like English, but that has no connection with the reality the rest of us live in. There is no other explanation for this behavior, and it fits perfectly with the paranoia the President constantly displays over threats to his own person.
These people are crazy. No, really. They are not in contact with the world. I know I should fear the one who can harm the soul and not the body, but still.....
AN UPDATE: It starts at the top:
Tell us all one more time why invading Iraq was imperative, Mr. President....
Condoleeza Rice taking umbrage at Barbara Boxer's questions. Never once denying what she had said, never once acknowledging that what she said in response to Boxer, or Biden, was completely at odds with reality. When reality doesn't fit what you say, ignore reality. Condi Rice as the Red Queen from Alice in Wonderland, and soon to be the U.S. Secretary of State.
And word comes today that Alberto Gonzalez, still only White House Counsel, has declared that the U.S. anti-torture statutes don't reach beyond the waters to foreigners on foreign soil. And none of the definitions of torture or restrictions on use of torture agreed to or announced by this Administration, apply to the CIA.
Also today Dick Cheney tells Don Imus: "You look around at potential trouble spots, Iran is right at the top of the list." And, of course, " 'We don't want a war in the Middle East, if we can avoid it,' he said." Which makes you wonder what he thinks is going on in Iraq right about now.
The situation with this Administration has gone completely through the looking glass. It is now beyond comprehension. I don't think even Barbara Boxer understands that she is speaking in one language, and the Bush Administration is speaking in a language all its own, one that sounds like English, but that has no connection with the reality the rest of us live in. There is no other explanation for this behavior, and it fits perfectly with the paranoia the President constantly displays over threats to his own person.
These people are crazy. No, really. They are not in contact with the world. I know I should fear the one who can harm the soul and not the body, but still.....
AN UPDATE: It starts at the top:
So it is the policy of the United States to seek and support the growth of democratic movements and institutions in every nation and culture, with the ultimate goal of ending tyranny in our world.
This is not primarily the task of arms, though we will defend ourselves and our friends by force of arms when necessary. Freedom, by its nature, must be chosen, and defended by citizens, and sustained by the rule of law and the protection of minorities. And when the soul of a nation finally speaks, the institutions that arise may reflect customs and traditions very different from our own. America will not impose our own style of government on the unwilling.
Tell us all one more time why invading Iraq was imperative, Mr. President....
Thursday, January 20, 2005
The command is clear. But is the heart engaged?
Reflecting on the response of Bush pere and fils to the tsunami, contrasted with Clinton, in the post below, I remembered this comment by Sen. Boxer in the Rice confirmation hearings:
The difference is important.
BOXER: And if you're going to become the voice of diplomacy, this is just a helpful point. When Senator Voinovich mentioned the issue of tsunami relief, you said -- your first words were The tsunami was a wonderful opportunity for us. Now, the tsunami was one of the worst tragedies of our lifetime, one of the worst, and it's going to have a 10-year impact on rebuilding that area. I was very disappointed in your statement. I think you blew the opportunity. You mentioned it as part of one sentence. And I would hope to work with you on this, because children are suffering; we're worried they're going to get in the sex trade. This thing is a disaster -- a true natural disaster and a human disaster of great proportions. And I hope that the State Department will take a huge lead under your leadership in helping those folks in the long range.A small point, but not an unimportant one. Everything depends on perspective, of course; on where you stand, and what you choose to look at. Is the suffering of human beings truly an "opportunity" for us? Or an obligation?
The difference is important.
"Here come the planes...."
In a much shorter vein, Holden at First Draft notifies me that Dr. Dobson is now concerned about the impact of Spongebob Squarepants on our nation's youth.
And when justice and force are gone, there's always Mom....or, in this case, Dr. Dobson.
Now, Dobson said, SpongeBob's creators had enlisted him in a "pro-homosexual video," in which he appeared alongside other children's television characters such as Barney and Jimmy Neutron, among many others. The video's makers, he said, planned to mail it to thousands of elementary schools this spring to promote a "tolerance pledge" that includes tolerance for differences of "sexual identity." He urged his allies to stand against it as part of a "spiritual battle" for the country.It isn't true, of course. The video is meant to teach the virtues of multiculuralism. But Focus on the Family stands by its assertions that this is another attempt to pollute our bodily fluids...oh, sorry, to corrupt American Youth:
Yesterday however, Paul Batura, assistant to Dobson, said Focus on the Family stood by its assertions. "We see the video as an insidious means by which the organization is manipulating and potentially brainwashing kids," he said.A "spiritual battle" for the country? Manipulating and brainwashing kids? This is a powerful appeal to the issue of identity. If somebody "out there" is not just like me, does that mean I might be like them? And if that's true, then who am I?
And when justice and force are gone, there's always Mom....or, in this case, Dr. Dobson.
"...and the wisdom to distinguish...
It was one of Jean-Paul Sartre's insights, that the world you posit, is the world you live in. It is perhaps a sign that we are all existentialists now, that we see this insight borne out in the Presidential inauguration today. The New York Times noted yesterday the unusually high level of security surrounding today's second inauguration of George Bush, even as "...U.S. officials say they have no indications that al-Qaida or any other terrorist group intends to attack Bush's inauguration." NPR reports that 100 blocks of Washington D.C. are shut down, the tightest security for any Presidential inauguration in history. So why the "rooftop snipers, missile batteries, bomb-sniffing dogs, high-tech monitors and miles of metal barricades, a striking array even in a city accustomed to heightened security since Sept. 11"? Because "paranoia," as the Buffalo Springfield said, "strikes deep," and "starts when you're always afraid"?
But what is this Administration afraid of?
When Bush visited Buckinham Palace, there were numerous reports of the extraordinary security measures the White House insisted on. The Palace reported drew the line at installing a special steel lined room for the President inside the Palace itself. Did the Queen ever insist on such security measures during the "Troubles" with Ireland? During World War II? Churchill had a bunker in London during the Blitz, and the Royal Family may have left the Palace for obvious safety reasons, but did they ever betray as stark a fear as that request indicates?
Bush swaggers like a movie cowboy, or at least struts as if strutting and posturing were indications of power and confidence. But is the swagger hollow, the confidence a pose? Actions speak louder than words, and some actions louder than others. Why this extraordinary security? What extraordinary sense of fear lies behind it? And what does it tell us, the loyal opposition?
We tend to define ourselves by what we oppose. That, too, is an insight of existentialism, but one little remarked upon. The existentialist starts by defining herself against the universe: the line of demarcation is the boundary of the self, and that boundary must be set early, before it is set by the universe against you. All the effort, then, goes into claiming as much "ground" as possible, casting as wide a net as possible, and holding that spiritual or psychic territory against all invasion. The boundaries shrink as the self matures, but the initial effort is to reach out, to establish the frontier, and to slowly realize how much of the world and the cosmos are "not you."
That, at least, is the insight of child psychology and development. And it is an insight borne out by reports of Bush's inaugural speech, in which he will reportedly tell the nation that liberty at home depends on liberty abroad. Which means the national self of the United States is boundless, is global. It means that collectively we are infants, unable to distinguish between our psychic selves and the rest of the world. It means that we have no center, and that the President has cast our lot with eternal conflict.
"God give us grace to accept with serenity the things that cannot be changed, courage to change the things that should be changed, and the wisdom to distinguish the one from the other." That is the Serenity Prayer" of Reinhold Niebuhr. It is a prayer that accepts, at its premise, that the world is larger than the self, and that the self is not dependent upon the world for definition. The President, however, proposes that the world define us, and that liberty abroad determine how much liberty can be had at home. Liberty, of course, is the American definition of nationhood, of the collective "we" of the United States, so this is as central to national selfhood as America gets. And Bush has defined it, and will define it, as an infant defines their world. Small wonder he is so insecure, and requires so much security.
But what about the rest of us? How should we define our struggles, our lives, our selves? By politics, by the efforts of political parties and our own convictions? By the boundaries, in other words, and what we can establish through our efforts? Ironically, Reinhold Niebuhr did; and his daughter records that he ended his days saddened and disheartened despite all he had done. "You poor girl," he told her once, after Eisenhower took office," you've never lived under a Republican Administration. You don't know how terrible this is going to be." But that doesn't mean he struggled in vain, or wasted his efforts. "It is implicit in everything Pa wrote on the subject," his daughter writes, "that there's little point in having a foreign policy, or an arms policy, unless, as a nation, you know who you are, what sort of nation you are or imagine yourself to be." He was right, of course; and that is the heart of the struggle. Who are we, really? What sort of nation do we imagine ourselves to be?
Right now, according to our President, a scared one; a frightened, childish, bullying one, beset by terrors on all sides, with no hope for survival except through our force of arms. But is force of arms the final power in the world? or the final weakness? Are we defined by our enemies? Or by our ideals? By our boundaries? Or by our center? Existentialism says that we define the world, but it starts by defining the world against us. But it also teaches that the world does not limit us; it is our own fear, our own despair, that does that. We can't even define the nation. We can only define ourselves. And we can do that either by constantly protecting the boundaries of who we are, and thereby letting what is "not us" define what is "us." Or we can do that by finding our center, where ever and whatever it may be, and resting there. St. Teresa of Avila called it the "interior castle," because it is both the place of safety, and the place that needs no other protection. Perhaps while the world flails about trying to establish security on the frontiers, we should seek the peace of our center. It is the only true hope for peace in the world.
[Quotes are from Elisabeth Sifton, The Serenity Prayer, New York: W.W. Norton, 2003, pp. 328-329]
But what is this Administration afraid of?
When Bush visited Buckinham Palace, there were numerous reports of the extraordinary security measures the White House insisted on. The Palace reported drew the line at installing a special steel lined room for the President inside the Palace itself. Did the Queen ever insist on such security measures during the "Troubles" with Ireland? During World War II? Churchill had a bunker in London during the Blitz, and the Royal Family may have left the Palace for obvious safety reasons, but did they ever betray as stark a fear as that request indicates?
Bush swaggers like a movie cowboy, or at least struts as if strutting and posturing were indications of power and confidence. But is the swagger hollow, the confidence a pose? Actions speak louder than words, and some actions louder than others. Why this extraordinary security? What extraordinary sense of fear lies behind it? And what does it tell us, the loyal opposition?
We tend to define ourselves by what we oppose. That, too, is an insight of existentialism, but one little remarked upon. The existentialist starts by defining herself against the universe: the line of demarcation is the boundary of the self, and that boundary must be set early, before it is set by the universe against you. All the effort, then, goes into claiming as much "ground" as possible, casting as wide a net as possible, and holding that spiritual or psychic territory against all invasion. The boundaries shrink as the self matures, but the initial effort is to reach out, to establish the frontier, and to slowly realize how much of the world and the cosmos are "not you."
That, at least, is the insight of child psychology and development. And it is an insight borne out by reports of Bush's inaugural speech, in which he will reportedly tell the nation that liberty at home depends on liberty abroad. Which means the national self of the United States is boundless, is global. It means that collectively we are infants, unable to distinguish between our psychic selves and the rest of the world. It means that we have no center, and that the President has cast our lot with eternal conflict.
"God give us grace to accept with serenity the things that cannot be changed, courage to change the things that should be changed, and the wisdom to distinguish the one from the other." That is the Serenity Prayer" of Reinhold Niebuhr. It is a prayer that accepts, at its premise, that the world is larger than the self, and that the self is not dependent upon the world for definition. The President, however, proposes that the world define us, and that liberty abroad determine how much liberty can be had at home. Liberty, of course, is the American definition of nationhood, of the collective "we" of the United States, so this is as central to national selfhood as America gets. And Bush has defined it, and will define it, as an infant defines their world. Small wonder he is so insecure, and requires so much security.
But what about the rest of us? How should we define our struggles, our lives, our selves? By politics, by the efforts of political parties and our own convictions? By the boundaries, in other words, and what we can establish through our efforts? Ironically, Reinhold Niebuhr did; and his daughter records that he ended his days saddened and disheartened despite all he had done. "You poor girl," he told her once, after Eisenhower took office," you've never lived under a Republican Administration. You don't know how terrible this is going to be." But that doesn't mean he struggled in vain, or wasted his efforts. "It is implicit in everything Pa wrote on the subject," his daughter writes, "that there's little point in having a foreign policy, or an arms policy, unless, as a nation, you know who you are, what sort of nation you are or imagine yourself to be." He was right, of course; and that is the heart of the struggle. Who are we, really? What sort of nation do we imagine ourselves to be?
Right now, according to our President, a scared one; a frightened, childish, bullying one, beset by terrors on all sides, with no hope for survival except through our force of arms. But is force of arms the final power in the world? or the final weakness? Are we defined by our enemies? Or by our ideals? By our boundaries? Or by our center? Existentialism says that we define the world, but it starts by defining the world against us. But it also teaches that the world does not limit us; it is our own fear, our own despair, that does that. We can't even define the nation. We can only define ourselves. And we can do that either by constantly protecting the boundaries of who we are, and thereby letting what is "not us" define what is "us." Or we can do that by finding our center, where ever and whatever it may be, and resting there. St. Teresa of Avila called it the "interior castle," because it is both the place of safety, and the place that needs no other protection. Perhaps while the world flails about trying to establish security on the frontiers, we should seek the peace of our center. It is the only true hope for peace in the world.
[Quotes are from Elisabeth Sifton, The Serenity Prayer, New York: W.W. Norton, 2003, pp. 328-329]
Wednesday, January 19, 2005
Because it really is all about words....
Your President as international moral compass:
Is it churlish to point out that Clinton promotes doing the right thing, despite any rewards? And Bush Sr. focusses on gaining some reward for our largesse? Or that both Bush's seem to think words outweigh war.
Truly, the acorn does not fall far from the tree.....
In a newspaper opinion piece signed by President Bush and offered to newspapers around the globe, a White House eager to lessen anti-American sentiment in the Muslim world is trumpeting U.S. efforts to help tsunami victims in the Indian Ocean region.
``Americans join those across the globe in mourning the tens of thousands of lives, many of them children, who were lost in the recent violent tsunamis from Thailand to the Horn of Africa,'' Bush writes in the op-ed distributed by the State Department starting last Saturday.
...
``In consultation with key allies and with the United Nations, the United States launched one of the largest humanitarian relief operations in recent history,'' he wrote. ``Americans will do all we can to help the people of Asia confront the great challenges that face them in the aftermath of this devastation.''
...
M.C. Andrews, with a White House office in charge of helping to improve the U.S. image abroad, said Tuesday the op-ed has already been published in papers in Asia, Europe and elsewhere.
Also Tuesday, Clinton and the first President Bush gave an interview to a U.S. government-financed satellite television station aimed at Arab viewers and said the response to their fund-raising drive has been overwhelming.
``People ask all the time, `Will people like America better?' and the answer is, we don't know, but that's not why we are doing it,'' Clinton said on Alhurra. ``If people know that the American people are doing this because they want to do the right thing, then they will like America better. If people think we have some motive, then they won't.''
Added former President Bush: ``I hope there is a byproduct, a fallout that will benefit, because I think the American people would want that. And to suggest we are anti-Muslim is just crazy. ... If they feel reconciled by the fact that we are helping the largest Muslim nation in the world, so much the better.''
Is it churlish to point out that Clinton promotes doing the right thing, despite any rewards? And Bush Sr. focusses on gaining some reward for our largesse? Or that both Bush's seem to think words outweigh war.
Truly, the acorn does not fall far from the tree.....
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