American Imperialism Ain’t What It Used To Be

Or so complains Robert Kaplan. He moans that our democracy is losing the will to fight, becoming decadent, weak in the face of the eternal struggle against the Arabian demons, and so on. Most of this is nonsense of the nastier sort, because it involves a man sincerely yearning for the good old days of unrestrained warfare upon “lesser peoples.” Herein lies, incidentally, the greatest paradox in the Western imperialist impulse: on the one hand, non-Western peoples are infidels, barbarians, who threaten to overwhelm the noble and sacred West at any moment, and therefore must be slaughtered, corralled, and ruled by their Western betters. There is hope for these inferior peoples only so long as they assimilate themselves to Western ways; indeed, as the British found in India, it was often colonials properly “trained” that gave the greatest support to the imperialist system. On the other hand, the Western imperialist- again, probably quite sincerely- wants to enlighten the non-Western savages, by bringing them Christianity, or democracy, or capitalism, or whatever the case may be. Both of these sentiments tend to exist alongside each other, often times in the same individuals; how the two conflicting sentiments are balanced and dealt with would make an interesting study. For the soldiers in the field, I suspect that the first sentiment tends to prevail; it is hard to sympathize with the benighted native and yearn for his betterment when he is trying to kill you, after all. And once the native is pacified he is often less than happy to see you in his country.

But I digress somewhat. The exterior thrust of Mr Kaplan’s argument is, briefly, that America, being a decadent democracy, has lost its will to fight wars. In fact Mr Kaplan is saying that America has lost its will to be an imperial power, and to fight the wars necessary to maintain its place as the supreme imperial power. And while Mr Kaplan skirts close but ultimately around the comparison- for obvious enough reasons- if one were to examine America’s current situation and decide upon a historical corollary, it would be hard to ignore the obvious comparison of the US’s imperial adventures with that of her former colonial master, Great Britain.

After the loss of the United States, Britain’s imperial attention gradually shifted east, with India as the epicentre and indeed rationalizing centre for the entire empire. In so doing Britain came into direct contact with not only the “oriental nationalism” that Mr Kaplan so fears, but also things we tend to imagine to be strictly contemporary problems, such as jihad directed against modern Westerners. It is generally forgotten in this country, but it was not that long ago that a Mahdi Army filled English-language headlines, only in the Sudan and not in Iraq. Even Mr Kaplan cannot avoid alluding to the persistent British struggles against unruly tribesmen in Afghanistan. And the whole history of the British in India is one of sagging public and elite morale over the whole thing; yet the conquest of India slogged on, despite repeated official sanction. The alleged flagging of patriotism, the risk of the whole imperial project toppling down in the face of public censure, the weakening of the public will to stomach “necessary evils”: all have remarkably close corallary in British history. However, Mr Kaplan does not bother us with them, for obvious enough reasons.

He does instead spend a good deal of time reporting a very real and rather troubling fact: the increasing regional exclusiveness of the military, and the caste-like nature of the modern military. As he notes, the American South is the centre of military recruitment. From the article, one might be forgiven in thinking this is a new thing; it is not, though it has probably become more accented in recent years. Partially this is because so many military bases were constructed in the South- you can hardly throw a rock without hitting a base of some sort, and some of them are very large indeed- but it also has to do with the fact that military culture has thrived here more than elsewhere. Firearms are a standard part of life in the Deep South particularly; it is not unusual, for example, to hear gunfire in the evening here at my home a few miles out from town- just someone showing off their new rifle, target shooting, or something. Memory of the Civil War is still quite strong in Anglo-American Southerners, and not a few houses in my county fly the Confederate flag underneath the Stars and Stripes. Therein lies the paradox of Southern militarism: the South is the only part of the US where the Anglo population has the distinct memory of being defeated in war by the US. Despite this, and despite the hard feelings felt to this day by some Southerners, from the official close of hostilities on the South has provided more than its share of Us military muscle. This paradox is almost perfectly mirrored by the Scottish experience of British imperialism: Scots were very often remarked to be the driving force in many a British imperial adventure. Quite of those loyal Scots were drawn from the ranks of Highlanders that had only recently suffered brutal defeat at the hands of the British government. Why would they- and Southern Americans on this side of the Atlantic- prove such ready instruments of the victorious government?

Further, Southerners tend to be fairly libertarian in their outlook on local politics and law. After all, the nanny state is hardly going to allow kids to shoot rounds off into the air for the sheer heck of it. Yet Southerners will invariably sign up for the latest American imperial adventure, even though such wars and the inherent expansion of State powers will mean a limitation of those very personal liberties Southerners so much enjoy. Why is this? Part of it I think is the simple fact many Southern men like to shoot and smash and burn things- and don’t have quite the level of inhibition about it that men in other parts of the US have. There is also a very real and very strong sense of military pride in both service and prowess, that often flows in families, and manifests itself willingly whenever the chance arises. It is perhaps not too great of a stretch to regard here the lingering Celtic sense of the American South with all the military related conotations that brings. The role of religion, which is still very viscerally strong in the South. By that I mean that while a Southerner may not go to church, may cuss and chew and all that, he will still have a strong sense of his own Christianity and his loyalty to Jesus. This sort of gut-level religion is easily employed in stimulating and rewarding military prowess. A Southerner who may never go to church or otherwise outwardly live a Christian life can join the military and feel himself a part of a larger action, an action that is given downright salvific import. He is fighting for “freedom,” and his cause is blessed by Jesus, and by the churches in the South. He knows that Southern Christianity- which is Christianity so far as he is concerned- is behind him and praying for him and otherwise giving blessing to his actions. Hence he can live the soldier’s life in complete reconcilliation with his otherwise mostly unpracticed religion. Military service for the Southerner is very much a virtually sacrosant occupation. If the reader hears echoes of the Crusade idea he is probably not mistaken- the conjunction of violent prowess and very real religious devotion is a very strong force here in the South.

However, I should also note that while Southerners may possess a greater willingness to join the military and to go to war, this does not of necessity translate into unquestioning acceptance of the government or of its imperial projects. The paradox of a militaristic yet libertarian-tinged society can swing both ways, and does, and is. Just within my circle of knowledge here in South Mississippi there is increasing dissent- this without a sacrifice of the military virtues that so often impel Southerners off to war in the first place. For- as shall be noted below- contra Mr Kaplan, dissent from imperial projects does not mean a retreat even from warlikeness and certainly not from ordinary valour and patriotism.

Mr Kaplan also strikes a mostly accurate note when he describes the increasing caste-nature of the modern military. This is not particularly true however in the South, or at least not the parts of it with which I am familiar. Here the military, nationalism, and religion are extremely close, if not inseperable. But I suspect that, the South excepted, his observations are close enough; and again the parallel that immediately springs to mind is the British imperial experience. A particular caste of people developed- often along family lines- that dealt in imperial business. However, Mr Kaplan does make an observation that raises an important difference: the British imperial machine, besides employing a sort of rought and tumble military class drawn heavily from its Celtic fringe, also had an extensive intellectual and administrative caste that was drawn from the upper ranks of society- and that did an admirable job, all things considered, so far as running a sprawling empire was concerned. The US does not have such a caste, in the same manner as the British. Certainly, American military imperialism operates alongside and sometimes on behalf of the American economic empire, but the two are not the same. Certainly American imperialism in the Middle East and Africa is rather unlikely to produce any new brilliant Orientalists or great works of literature or anything of the sort. The ineptness of US administration in Iraq is even more staggering when one considers how few British personel were required to subdue and run the entire subcontinent of India.

We must then ask why this is the case- why are intellectuals and others unwilling to join in America’s military enterprise? Is it because, as Mr Kaplan suggests, they are unpatriotic and decadent? Hardly. For as should be clear by now, it is not the ability to wage war that Mr Kaplan is worried about, but the ability to sustain an empire. If there is less desire to enter the military in many parts of society, and if the military is increasingly distant from America as a whole, it is not because the American people are “weak” or “decadent,” but that they do not- as a whole- smile upon vast imperial projects the likes of which Mr Kaplan would have them sacrifice without demure their blood and treasure. Such a dislike of imperialism is nothing new, to America’s credit: from George Washington’s farewell speech to the anti-imperialist leagues of the turn of the century to the now all but defunct pre-WWII Old Right there has been a strong and vocal anti-imperialism strain to America, coming from quarters it would be very difficult to label cowardly or unpatriotic. At present the grassroots support- including in the militaristic, conservative South- of Ron Paul is proof that anti-imperialism (even if it does not vocalize itself exactly as such) is alive and well even in the reddest of the red states. Consider that in the early Republic the idea of a standing army was considered dangerous! Were the opponents of a standing army un-patriotic? Cowardly? I doubt even Mr Kaplan would suggest that.

In sum, Mr Kaplan fails to be honest with his arguments, for good enough reason I suppose. He can hardly just come right out and declare that Americans ought to buckle down and shoulder the white man’s burden, fifty years on, and all that. America does not and probably never will have the explicit tradition of imperialism qua imperialism that Britain did. Instead, he must collapse the current American project into war qua war: to be opposed, in Mr Kaplan’s world, to imperialist war is to be opposed to all military virtue, is to be unwilling to fight for anything. And the solution offered by the militarist Right to this flagging support for military action is, insanely, more wars, as if this will increase public support for their adventures (let no one accuse them of being impeded by that satan logic). I would like to suggest that, sed contra, it is quite possible to understand the need for proper military virtues, and the possibility of armed conflict, and that some things are worth fighting and dying for- all this, without making a global imperialist project one of those things worth dying for. It is a distinction of the utmost importance.

Side by Side

The following are photos from the Lauderdale Confederate-Union Cemetery, located outside a little community a few miles north of Meridian, MS. I have driven past the big brown sign on Highway 45 several times over the past few years, always intending to stop but never having gotten around to it until last weekend. The cemetery was established to inter the bodies of men who died at a nearby hospital- both Confederates and Federals. A few of the graves are marked simply “Unknown.” I can’t think of too many cemeteries where both Confederate and Union dead were buried in the same location, making this little hill-top particularly poignant.

 

 

On the Death of Paul Tibbets

Paul Tibbets piloted the airplane that carried out the world’s first atomic attack, killing some eighty-thousand people, almost all of whom were civilians. His attitude towards the attack is truly disturbing, though it helps to reveal how it is people are able to carry out horrific acts of terrorism under State orders:

I felt nothing about it….I couldn’t worry about the people getting burned up down there on the ground. …This wasn’t anything personal as far as I’m concerned , so I had no personal part in it….It wasn’t my decision to make morally, one way or another…I did what I was told — it was a success as far as I was concerned, and that’s where I’ve left it…I can assure you that I can sleep just as peacefully at night as anybody can sleep….

From On the Death of ‘Hiroshima Bomb’ Pilot Paul Tibbets

Fundamentalists Are Brain-Damaged, But We Progressive Sorts Are Nigh Unto the Gods

Ah, the glorious spectre of fundamentalism! If future historians were to select one piece of “knowledge” from our era to display our particular forms of laziness and intellectual stupor, they could do little better than examine the fulminations of progressive types against “fundamentalists.” Where previous ages constructed systems of imagined knowledge about Jews, Orientals, Indians, and so forth, this age has provided a body of “knowledge” that manages to encompass in great broad strokes not only Jews, but also Christians, Muslims, and maybe even Hindus and Buddhists. Dispensing with the subtle narratives and complexities of real history and human experience, the contemporary critic can simply conjur up “fundamentalism” and thus dismiss both religious arguments and persons with whom he disagrees or wishes to marginalize. Even more wonderfully, this system of constructed knowledge is not the reserve of only the Left, or only the Right! It may be drawn upon, in differing forms to be sure, by both statist Leftists and Rightists, both sides assured in their “knowledge” of “fundamentalism.”

Today I chanced across, via Arts & Letters, this marvelous gem of “fundamentalist” critiquing: Neuroscience and Fundamentalism. Therein, the authors solemnly seek to explain the destructively anti-rational behavior of “fundamenalists.” In sum, the problem: fundamentalists aren’t firing on all cylinders, neurologically. Aha! Brain-damage! Those religious crazies are simply defective human beings! Now, it would be all too easy to discuss how labeling one’s ideological enemies as brain-damaged and otherwise defective in humanity can lead in some very troubling directions. I could also talk about how, for all the talk in the article about the evils of religious certaintity, adherance to dogma, et cetera, the authors show no signs of questioning their underlying basic materialism combined with a weak pseudo-spirituality-morality of “tolerance” and “humanity.”

Rather, what I find particularly interesting and most troubling is the inability of the authors to understand religion, and particularly fundamentalism. One paragraph in particular is very illuminating:

A common thread that may weave its way through fundamentalist extremism was perhaps aptly expressed by three so-called reformed fundamentalists during the American Public Media special, “The Power of Fundamentalism.” Representing each of Christianity, Judaism and Islam, they implied they were taught to believe as they were told, and that personal interpretation and imagination were to be marginalized. Deviation and creativity were unacceptable.

This is pretty much all we are told concretely about fundamentalists. What exactly a fundamentalist is, historically, theoretically, theologically, and so on- unimportant. We know already what a fundamentalist is, the authors imply. They are religious believers who adhere to dogma that we don’t like: this is the unspoken backround. The fundamentalist is, on a certain level, simply the religious believer whose beliefs don’t correlate with a “progressive” view of the world, someone who isn’t like us progressive people: the fundamentalist is the alien Other, updated a little. They are incapable of rational thought like us, incapable of creativity, adhering to medieval dogma- from birth, apparently. Perhaps some can change, with help no doubt, but if- as the article very strongly suggests- adherence to dogma is a matter of one’s brain capacity, such ability to change must be rather limited.

Of course, the “Fundamentalism” underlying the article’s arguments is largely made-up knowledge. True fundamentalist movements in the past couple of centuries are not simply examples of rigid, uncreative adherance to dogma, nor are they monolithic from one religion to another. In the case of Islamic Salafists, for example, “fundamentalism” arose as a response to modern developments- one of the common threads in movements usually labeled “fundamentalist.” This meant a rejection of many previous traditions and “dogmas”: hence the Salafist dislike of saints, shrines, and such, as Muslims in the movement sought a sort of return to the “fundamentals,” or sunna rather, of the Prophet and his Companions. Fundamentalism, in the modern sense, in Islam was something new, something that involved new and creative thinking (which, mind you, are neutral terms themselves- there is nothing inherently good about either newness or creativity, which should go without saying…). While it is usually forgotten in the West, Salafists in the past and in the present have been very heavily involved in developing new models of government and reform in Islamic countries, as they seek to apply their interpretation of Islamic principles to the contemporary world- which has meant everything from essentially democratic models to a jihad-supported world-wide caliphate. Any way it develops, such thought involves- gasp!- creative thinking, rationality, and so on, within the contexts of a particular approach to Koran, Hadith, and established Islamic doctrine.

Likewise, Christian Protestant Fundamentalism involved innovative new ways of dealing with Scripture and contemporary situations, which often meant internal reform and new ideas. Certainly, it involved a highly literal (but by no means exclusively literal) approach to Scripture, but in order to take such an approach new thinking and rationality were required, so as to apply the sacred text to modern situations. Hence Fundamentalism in Protestant Christianity has not remained static; for example it has over the past few decades left its posture of disengagement from politics for a stance strongly encouraging political engagement- something that involved creative and indeed critical thinking.

But let us suppose that “fundamentalism” is a monolithic sort of thing across religions, and that it sprung from the earth into a static, uncritical, non-creative force. People must still be initiated into it. The authors of the article in question seem to assume that all fundamentalists were “born that way,” that they were brought up believing this way. But somewhere along the line people would have had to be converted to this manner of thinking. Perhaps in the imaginery world of constructed fundamentalisms it is assumed that it all just sort of happened, rather like evolution. In reality, fundamentalism is not static, is not monolithic, and very significantly, is composed heavily of converts.

Returning to Salafist thought: one of the things that gave the rather obscure Arabian movement so much traction was the increasing globalization of the nineteenth century, which has only accelerated since. Muslims from all over the world, from many social stations, were able to make the hajj and thus be exposed to the new movement of thought centred on the Saudi Peninsula. Responding to these new ideas of a seemingly purified Islam, they carried them home- converted. And conversion entails changing one’s mind, modifying practices, thinking differently- all the things fundamentalists are supposed to be incapable of. A similar story could be told of other forms of “fundamentalist” religion.

Finally, when the term “fundamentalist” is used, it usually includes not only such movements as those above- the ones properly considered “fundamentalist” in the historical context- but religious believers of all sorts who still adhere to doctrine and sacred scripture as integral, authoritative parts of life- traditional religion, essentially. Thus real movements that can be labeled fundamentalist come to matter less and less in the superstructure of constructed knowledge. First all fundamentalists within a given religion are collapsed into each other- so that a Salafist working for education reform and democracy in 1960’s Morocco is collapsed into an angry iman in Pakistan urging on suicide bombers. Then this single image is collapsed across religions, so that one can merge in a single breath American Fundamentalist Bible commentators of the 1920’s with the suicide-bomber preaching Salafist circa 2007. As the image of the irrational, violent, extremist fundamentalist- generic across religions and history- takes hold as the epicentre of one’s imagination and system of knowledge, whatever reality lies behind the image recedes in importance.

This whole system of false knowledge- for that is what it is- is dangerous on several levels. For one, being able to dismiss religious believers as intolerant fundamentalists enables one to ignore the logical and rational fallacies of one’s own thought. Thus the hapless materialist is unable to see himself trapped in a severly limiting system of dogma. This in itself is tragic enough. But even more tragic is the implicit and sometimes explicit idea that fundamentalism must be “fixed” by “progressive” minded people. For just like other forms of false, constructed knowledge, this one is useful for not only marginalizing people intellectually, but can have concrete implications. The authors of this article reveal such a tendency towards the conclusion of their article:

Children raised in environments which consistently reward convergent reasoning and strict adherence but punish divergent reasoning, could conceivably grow into adults who are prone to getting stuck in various beliefs or ideologies. Might our current preoccupation with strict religious fundamentalism be creating obstacles to resolving the complex dilemmas we face in the world today? If we continue to insist that children around the world unfailingly adhere to the tenets of religious fundamentalism which promote intolerance, are we doomed to repeat the past simply because we have nurtured a world of thinkers who will not diverge from what they are told?

One can almost hear a certain Presidential candidate pledging to “do something” about all those hate-filled madrassas in Pakistan. It is not a stretch to imagine such enlightened efforts in America, and elsewhere, incorporating the whole coercive apparatus of the State in the pursuit of some new enlightened crusade. We rational, creative people must “help” our lesser kin escape their shackles- whether they want us to help them or not, perhaps. Perhaps it shall take bombs and bullets- for the greater good, which we naturally know in full! The poor fundamentalists must be educated properly, or else they pose a danger to good civilized progressive people. Never mind what a given fundamentalist might actually believe, never mind what he might actually think and feel and dream- he is mentally deficient, but we, we bold brave souls steeped in creative reason, we are nigh unto the gods, we know what is best, and may our will be done.

Two On Iran

First, a question: if the President of Iran isn’t to be allowed a visit to the World Trade Center site because of his suspected ties to terrorism, then why is the President of the USA allowed to visit, when there is nothing left to suspect about his direct involvement in a massive act of terror- for if invading and destroying an entire country doesn’t amount to terror nothing does- upon an entire nation? Not to mention the shameless manipulation of the events of 9/11 to sell wars of empire- something not even President Ahmadinejad, for all his perfidery (and while he’s not the loomng Antichrist the rightists here would have us think, he’s not a benign wonderful guy either, by any means, as Akbar Ganji below could attest). However, while there should be absolutely no need to say this, neither Iran nor President Ahmadinejad or any Shia groups anywhere had anything to do with 9/11. Really. I wonder, though, how long it will be before the propogandists here in the US start trying to convince us otherwise? Judging from the reaction to Ahmadinejad’s proposed visit, perhaps it’s already started…

A more encouraging piece, this one from the Iranian political dissident Akbar Ganji: Conservations with Akbar Ganji. Here are a few excerpts- maybe it’s just me, but it seems his politcal philosophy is strikingly libertarianish in its tone. His words certainly apply to more places than just Iran:

One of the features of a fascist regime is that it completely suppresses all civil society and creates a society with one voice, but it’s only one of the characteristics of a fascist society.

It’s a system where you need to have a widespread political party. Culture is completely reduced to advertisements and propaganda, education is reduced to propaganda, and many other features in economy and politics. When you suppress civil society you reduce people to small particles and they become dissolved in a solution in the society. They have no characteristics of themselves, of their own. In the time of Stalin you had the opportunity to suppress all civil societies and the only voice to be heard was Stalin. You had the one-way radio and all you could hear was Stalin’s voice.

… A market economy allows you to create institutions separate from the government. A totalitarian regime, or a fascist regime, requires that all economic aspects of life must be controlled by the government. The Communist economies have all been defeated. No one is going after Communist economics, and even all Social Democrats today defend a free-market economy. Once the free-market economy enters a society, the occurrence of fascism and totalitarianism become impossible. But at the same time, you can still have authoritarianism and despotic regimes.

*

If a regime closes all avenues of resistance and opposition there will be no other way except revolution. No one can plan for a revolution. A revolution in such conditions occurs naturally. When we speak of revolutions we speak of classical revolutions in the classical term. Classical revolutions want to change the economic, social, and political structure of the society. Such a thing is impossible and it’s immoral, meaning that you can never achieve such a goal, but you will create a regime of fear. But you can change a regime in a non-revolutionary way. First, we don’t want to change the whole thing but we just want to bring democracy, great freedom, through democratic means, through peaceful means, through civil disobedience.

*

{Interviewer} The Bush administration and the Congress believe that they can further the processes of democratization by intervening in countries like Iran. What is your take on that?

{Ganji} So far, what’s happened is that they have harmed our democratic movement rather than helping it.

In what ways?

When you pursue such radical militaristic methods, you give an opportunity to your opposition to grow in a radical way. When there is a crisis, the first thing that gets damaged and gets harmed is democracy. What happened after 9/11 in the United States? Civil liberties, were they strengthened or were they weakened? Today they claim that they have arrested terrorist suspects in England. Have they actually increased security or reduced it? When you face dangers and crises, civil liberties go down and security measures go up.

Why Study War, Indeed

Via Arts & Letters, two articles on City Journal came to my attention, both- one explicitly, one somewhat less so- extolling the virtues of war against the naysaying of ignorant and probably subversive peaceniks. I shall deal with one below, and, Lord willing, examine the other later this week.

First, Victor David Hanson describes in Why Study War? the lack of knowledge about things military amongst college students- and most other Americans for that matter. He spends a considerably amount of time detailing a percieved lack of attention in academia to war: as proof he offers the dearth of military historians in contemporary academia. Herein lies my first quibble. Being a college student, and a student of history at that, I have spent a little time in and around academia listening to peopel talk about history and reading book after book about history. My particular area of interest is things medieval: which means a great deal of war, and a great deal of religion. My library- which includes some quite contemporary titles amongst the older dustier ones- has plenty of volumes overflowing with gore and battle. My classes- albiet so far mostly at a small private, more-conservative-than-many college- have had a great bit of battle and bloodshed, and I have spent many enjoyable hours discussing long-gone military campaings with both my professors and fellow students.

Perhaps my experience is the exception; perhaps modern academia really has insulated itself from the real world of combat and warfare. However, I doubt whether this is Mr Hanson’s true concern- rather, as he reveals further into his article, it isn’t that academia ignores warfare, but it doesn’t talk about it correctly. He complains of the focus by historians on silly things like Japanese internment camps, refugee issues, and gender and race roles in war. Such things distract from the real business of military history, which should, as we gather later in the article, be concerned merely with winning wars for the right side, and encouraging the citizens of the republic in their support of war. If historians keep up the business of looking deeper into war and its consequences they will probably only discourage the war-planners. Moving into the heart of the article- where Mr Hanson lays forth what we would be learning from military history, were we to study it- we are treated to the following gem:

Affluent Western societies have often proved reluctant to use force to prevent greater future violence. “War is an ugly thing, but not the ugliest of things,” observed the British philosopher John Stuart Mill. “The decayed and degraded state of moral and patriotic feeling which thinks that nothing is worth war is much worse.”

No examples of these affluent societies are given- perhaps we are meant to think of those degenerate Swiss in their mountain hideouts eating chocolate and eschewing taking up the White Man’s Burden? One is hard pressed to think of modern Western nations who have ever expressed a great deal of genuine reservation towards massive displays of force against their neighbors, their own people, and the rest of the world.

Hanson continues with the tired attempt at linking the current occupation of Iraq to World War II- the good war, don’t you know- and mouthing off platitudes about appeasement and such. It would seem that the only lessons we are to draw from the study of military history are militaristic ones, that we must go steady on, fight for our noble cause, and never ever give into appeasement. That there may be other lessons to draw from the study of human conflict does not show up on the campaign map. Yet I could think of a few, drawing upon conflicts and sources I do not think Mr Hanson could have any trouble with. From the story of Xenophon and his Ten Thousand- one of my favorites- we should have easily drawn the lesson that regime change in Mesopotamia isn’t as easy as the war salesmen make it, and one should always, always have a good exit strategy. Failing that, you’d best pray the gods you have a Xenophon or two on hand. Dusty old Thucydides could have told us a great deal about democracies that play at empire, and how real wars are much more ambiguous than good guys versus bad guys (sometimes so ambiguous one gets a headache trying to keep all the alliances and turn abouts straight). Herodotus, besides illuminating us on how Egyptian cats immolate themselves on occasion, has a great deal to say about pre-emptive wars of conquest, and how scrappy seemingly dissunited and even downright obscurantist peoples can be in the face of invasion and occupation. I could continue, up to the most recent conflicts. One should learn from Thucydides at the very beginning that war is hardly the moralistic force Mr Hanson seems to think of it- the reality is far messier and less romantic. One may also learn that the best course for the average citizen in dealing with war is to look carefully into the mass of propoganda and claims and fervor that accompanies any war, and try to discern the truth behind the conflict.

Mr Hanson does pen one line of exceeding veracity:

Some men will always prefer war to peace; and other men, we who have learned from the past, have a moral obligation to stop them.

Indeed. And since, as history teaches us, those amongst us who prefer war usually cloak their violence in appeals to freedom, nation-state, religion, pride, democracy, destiny, and heaven knows what else, it is our duty to see through the fog of war they weave, and stop them, if possible, before the bullets start flying. History hardly teaches us utter pacificism- but it isn’t really pacificism the war-mongerers- right and left, by the way- have issue with, as it’s hardly a major force in the world. Their issue is with people who’d rather not stage bloody revolutions, or subdue the natives, or spread democracy- or communism or whatever- at the point of the gun (for, as should be evident from the simplest perusal of their propoganda through the past hundred plus years, rightists and leftists diverge but little in their worship of the gun barrel). A proper study of history and its all too numerous wars teaches us the horror of war, and hence the advisability, from merely a pragmatic point, of eschewing all but defensive war. History also teaches us that one rarely needs to incite people to the defense of their homelands; it is rather more difficult to convince the average person that it is in his interest to fight and conquer an unknown people five thousand miles away, for what and for whom he never really knows.  

Remembering Hiroshima

Mr. Tanimoto, fearful for his family and church, at first ran toward them by the shortest route, along Koi Highway. He was the only person making his way into the city; he met hundreds and hundreds who were fleeing, and every one of them seemed to be hurt in some way. The eyebrows of some were burned off and skin hung from their faces and hands. Others, because of the pain, held their arms up as if carrying something in both hands. Some were vomiting as they walked. Many were naked or in shreds of clothing. On some undressed bodies, the burns had made patters- of undershirt straps and suspenders and, on the skin of some women (since white repelled the heat from the bomb and dark clothes absorbed it and conducted it to the skin), the shapes of flowers they had had on their kimonos. Many, although injured themselves, supported relatives who were worse off. Almost had their heads bowed, looked straight ahead, were silent, and showed no expression whatever.

John Hersey, Hiroshima

On debunking the justifications for the use of the atomic bomb: Remembering Hiroshima, via Antiwar.com.

Today is, unfortunately, not merely occasion for remembering the callous destruction of a city and its people in the recent past; it should also be occasion to stiffen our resolve against present-day leaders who would just as readily employ the same brutal weapons again.

Hadji Murad

A decade or so before his death, Leo Tolstoy completed a novella (published posthumously however) derived in part from his experiences in the Russian military during Russia’s drive to conquer the various predominately Muslim tribesmen of the North Caucasus region. Titled Hadji Murad (available here for free if you don’t mind reading long on-line texts) after its protagonist, the story is tightly crafted and reflective of a mature novelist- for despite its brevity, Tolstoy manages to construct, a la War and Peace, a number of stories within the overall narrative, with several developed characters whose lives all, in some way or another, intersect with that of Hadji Murad. Hadji Murad himself is a Chechen warrior whose varying fortunes and clashes lead him to fight other Caucasus factions, then the Russian invaders, before aligning himself tenuously with the Russians in an ultimately tragic bid to save his family from a powerful Chechen imam.

While Tolstoy is careful to offer little interpretative commentary within the story, his sympathies quite clearly lie with Hadji Murad first, then the Chechen people, and finally the conscripted Russian soldiers sent into the war. The closest he comes to outright moral proclamation within the narrative itself lies in his subtle and not-so-subtle digs at Russian- and by extension, Western- society are quite evident as he describes the moral habits- or lack thereof- of various levels of Russian society, culminating in a deliciously scathing portrayal of Czar Nicholas:

Although the plan of a gradual advance into the enemy’s territory by means of felling forests and destroying the food supplies was Ermolov’s and Velyaminov’s plan, and was quite contrary to Nicholas’s own plan of seizing Shamil’s place of residence and destroying that nest of robbers — which was the plan on which the dargo expedition in 1845 (that cost so many lives) had been undertaken — Nicholas nevertheless attributed to himself also the plan of a slow advance and a systematic felling of forests and devastation of the country. It would seem that to believe the plan of a slow movement by felling forests and destroying food supplies to have been his own would have necessitated hiding the fact that he had insisted on quite contrary operations in 1845.

But he did not hide it and was proud of the plan of the 1845 expedition as well as of the plan of a slow advance — though the two were obviously contrary to one another. Continual brazen flattery from everybody round him in the teeth of obvious facts had brought him to such a state that he no longer saw his own inconsistencies or measured his actions and words by reality, logic, or even simple common sense; but was quite convinced that all his orders, however senseless, unjust, and mutually contradictory they might be, became reasonable, just, and mutually accordant simply because he gave them.

Tolstoy’s depiction of Islamic society is generally sympathetic and carries very little “Orientalistic” baggage; there is a sense of determinism throughout, but this is perhaps as much for Tolstoy an aspect of history in general as it is a mirror of “Oriental fatalism.” One of the strengths of the book lies in its depection of Chechnya and the war there as being complex, consisting of all sorts of cross-currents, as subject to change as the people making them up- an element that in some ways struggles with the theme of tragic determination. While it’s rather cliche to speak of contemporary relevance, it’s also hard not to notice it: the present conflicts raging in various parts of the Islamic world- including Chechnya- are multi-faceted, tragic affairs. Hadji Murad presents, on one level, a “clash” of East and West: but Tolstoy is far to insightful to imagine even a morally neutral clash of civilisations. Instead, he presents clashes within civilisations, across cultural lines, alongside bonds formed across cultures, as in the friendship formed between Murad and a Russian soldier, Butler:

With the arrival of Hadji Murad and his close acquaintance with him and his murids, Butler was even more captivated by the poetry of the peculiar, vigorous life led by the mountaineers. He got himself a jacket, cherkeska and leggings, and he felt he was a mountaineer too, living the same life as these people.

The narrative structure of the novel itself reflects the complexity of reality in the Caucasus: people, groups, and conflicts all collide, collude, and collide again. Certainly, Tolstoy rejects the Russian imperial project, but he does not pretend the Chechens are immaculate, quietist victims of imperialism, or even noble militant resistors of an unjust war against them. Instead a wide range of motives, tactics, and ideologies inhere in the various peoples making up the cast of Muslim characters. Yet despite a recognition of complexity, Hadji Murad emerges as a hero- a tragic (in the proper sense of the word) and flawed hero, but still a hero, struggling against fate in a convoluted world. And Tolstoy’s stance towards war is equally evident, as in this scene that comes in an interluding vignette describing the Russian campaign of “pacification”:

Sado and his family had left the aoul on the approach of the Russian detachment, and when he returned he found his saklya in ruins — the roof fallen in, the door and the posts supporting the penthouse burned, and the interior filthy. His son, the handsome bright-eyed boy who had gazed with such ecstasy at Hadji Murad, was brought dead to the mosque on a horse covered with a barka; he had been stabbed in the back with a bayonet. The dignified woman who had served Hadji Murad when he was at the house now stood over her son’s body, her smock torn in front, her withered old breasts exposed, her hair down, and she dug her hails into her face till it bled, and wailed incessantly.

Sado, taking a pick-axe and spade, had gone with his relatives to dig a grave for his son. The old grandfather sat by the wall of the ruined saklya cutting a stick and gazing stolidly in front of him. He had only just returned from the apiary. The two stacks of hay there had been burnt, the apricot and cherry trees he had planted and reared were broken and scorched, and worse still all the beehives and bees had been burnt. The wailing of the women and the little children, who cried with their mothers, mingled with the lowing of the hungry cattle for whom there was no food. The bigger children, instead of playing, followed their elders with frightened eyes. The fountain was polluted, evidently on purpose, so that the water could not be used. The mosque was polluted in the same way, and the Mullah and his assistants were cleaning it out.

Through This Blood Alone

‘Let those who are listening hear and understand that when the Father saw that Adam and his children had fallen into sin and were being jostled about in it as if by waves and that through it destruction had overwhelmed them, he said to his Son, “I see that Adam, who is in our image and likeness, as well as his offspring, have come under sin’s dominion. The just claim of sin that stands against them has excluded them from the state of blessedness for which they were created. The law cannot be made void, however; it must receive its claims in full, from every single human being. Come, take a body. Through it, manifest yourself in the world and expose yourself to the punishments that human beings merit because of their sins. Let those punishments befall you, for when this happens there will be forgiveness of sins for those who, for their sins, offer to me your pains. For them there will be an escape from every punishment they merit because of my law. In this way, you will have nullified the just claims of sin and the devil its sponsor and fulfilled the claims of my law without its becoming null and void. At the same time, you will have opened the door for all of Adam’s offspring who wish deliverance for themselves, preparing for them a forgiveness that they will be able to obtain without trouble, by faith in you and by the offering of your pains… when you have suffered for their sakes just once the punishment merited by them an innumerable number of times, you will have caused the law to receive in full its claims on them and infinitely more as well.”

‘…Do you not see that forgiveness is through Christ’s blood and that those whom God purified from sin through this blood were justly purified, for, as we have said, this Son’s death fulfilled each of the law’s claims against us? If in the divine scriptures of the Old and New Testaments you hear of forgiveness or mercy or penance, know that it took place only through Christ’s cross and the shedding of his blood. If this were not so, the law would be void and God would be one who does things in vain. Far be this from him! The fulfillment of the law’s claims took place through this blood alone, which was shed for the living and for the dead.

‘…It is thus that his summons is called the “gospel,” that is, the “good news,” for it proclaims to humanity the good news about how Christ saved them from that from which they were unable to save themselves. We give praise to Christ for his immeasurable grace.’

Theodore Abū Qurrah, On Our Salvation

Theodore Abū Qurrah was the late eighth-century and early ninth century bishop of the town of Haran, outside of Edessa, overseeing a congregation of Chalcedonian Orthodox Christians. He lived in a diverse environment of cultural cross-currents and competing religions: from the newly ascendant Muslims to the various Christian groups to a handful of practitioners of a blend of paganism and neo-Platonism. His writings are heavily concerned with, as we might put it, the problem of living in a highly pluralistic world.

However, I selected the above passage for a different reason- while it does not deal with the problem of religious pluralism, it does contain an argument of considerable interest for contemporary Christians, both East and West. Upon reading it without knowledge of Theodore or his ecclesiastical and historical setting, one might assume it to have been written by a Western theologian, not terribly far from the line of thought used by St. Anselm in Cur Deus Homo. Yet the above selection was written- in Arabic no less!- by an early ninth century Eastern Christian, operating in a decidedly ‘Eastern’ theological continuum. In presenting an argument often labeled as ‘Substitutionary Atonement,’ he does not seem to expect his readers to react with shock or surprise: he is simply unfolding what his readers are expected to understand: Christ died for our sins; the shedding of his blood brings salvation, and this salvation is intrinsically tied into the Law, as contained in the Torah, but which is a manifestation of God’s will, is a divine Law.

Theodore’s concern is in carefully delineating why Christ’s death had to happen, as understood through a decidedly ‘legal’ perspective. Yes, he is concerned with issues of law, of merit (gasp!), even of justification. There is a Law to be satisfied, and God simply cannot override it by fiat. The Law is Law and must be dealt with. The punishment of the Law must be carried out; we have all of us broken the Law, and all our penance in the world cannot save us from that Law. Only the perfect Son of God can take upon Himself the punishment we merit and in so doing fulfill the Law and bring us under the mercy and forgiveness of God, without ignoring the Law of God.

All of this is, of course, fairly common discourse in the West. Yet how often is it stated that such a view is unknown in the East- the abode of an allegedly more ‘spiritual’ (read: less concerned with ‘law and order’) Christianity? Whether advanced by detractors of the East or its defenders, it is very common to suppose that a view anywhere near that of St. Anselm or other Western theologians is either unknown or flatly rejected east of the Bosporus, and simply has no currency in Eastern Orthodoxy. This is interpreted sometimes to mean that the Eastern Church is incomplete in its theological understanding, or dreadfully ignorant of Scripture; on the other hand it is taken to mean the Eastern Church is spiritually wise in its supposed rejection of Substitutionary Atonement, accepting in its stead a Christus Victor model or something else (or simply focusing on the Resurrection to the near exclusion of the Crucifixion). All of these arguments draw upon a sort of Christian ‘Orientalism’ in which the mystical, spiritual, rather anarchic Eastern Church is the antithesis of the orderly, law-based, rational West. In reality, while the Substitutionary Atonement (a term I am using here as broadly as possible to embrace the more ‘judicial’ or ‘legal’ interpretations of Christ’s death) is not nearly as common an idea in the East as in the West, it is by no means foreign to the East, nor is it somehow repugnant to Eastern Orthodox thought or doctrine (nor is the neat antithesis of East and West quite so neat and orderly- but that is another issue). Theodore is a fine example: he is about as far removed from the Western world as any Chalcedonian Orthodox of his time could be, living in a Muslim-ruled state and writing primarily in Arabic, working in an environment about as thoroughly ‘Eastern’ as one could ask for.

Another example for this sort of thinking on the crucifixion comes from the considerably later St. Symeon the New Theologian- another writer who could hardly be accused of extensive intercourse with Western thought. In one his homilies he offers an understanding of the Atonement virtually the same as Theodore’s- and very resonant with Western interpretations. I would offer some excerpts here, except that I accidentally left my copy of the homily on a flight between Los Angeles and Hong Kong, and have yet to purchase a new copy. It is contained in this selection of St. Symeon’s homilies: The First Created Man

Now, as I mentioned above, the sort of argument Theodore here employs is not common in Eastern Orthodoxy when compared to certain other perspectives on the Atonement: but it is not unknown, and it is entirely compatible with the general scope of Eastern thought and theology- which itself is not monolithic at all, anyway (nor could it or should it be). It does not conflict with other understandings of the Atonement, for the simple fact that an act so complex and deep as the Atonement admits numerous interpretations that are non-exclusive. Think of it as viewing many different facets of the same jewel: each facet reveals something different, yet related, connected to the previous facet. The strength of this particular ‘facet’ is its taking into account the very important reality of the Torah and its focus upon law and sacrifice. A cogent Christianity must deal directly with the entire corpus of Scripture, on its proper terms. This includes such things as law and sacrifice, and all the ‘legal mechanisms’ entailed therein. Further, the New Testament uses decidedly legal language- alongside all sorts of linguistic forms and metaphors. By incorporating all of these metaphors and interpretations, we- East and West- deepen our understanding of the mystery of the Gospel, giving us yet more cause to ‘give praise to Christ for his immeasurable grace.’

Independence Day

Throughout American history there have been those who have taken patriotism and defense of one’s home to be excuses for war, agression, corruption, and imperialism: but just as it would be wrong to pretend that America is spotless and God’s gift to the world, it would also be wrong to ignore the many people who have stood up for genuine patriotism, for honest love of their homes and families, people who never sought to rule the world or hoard massive amounts political or economic power. People who really did sacrifice everything for freedom and defence of their homes and families and neighbors. People who exemplified what is best in America’s political and cultural traditions. Here are brief descriptions of two of them, both Mississippians.

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For years my great-grandmother Stanley worked the red-dirt hills of Central Mississippi: the land of others as a sharecropper, and eventually her own land. She loved the land and she loved to work it. Years past the usual age of retirement she was still keeping massive vegetable gardens: one beside the house and another across the road down a dirt track. She would till and plant and hoe and harvest, and then cook and can and store. Not because she had to, not because anyone made her, but because she loved to do it, because she cherished her independence, she cherished the good earth and its fruits. Hers was- and is, even though she can no longer work in her gardens- the true spirit of American independence, an agrarian sense of place and identity, that does not require empire or military might to sustain itself, but only the soil and hard work. She has always been thrifty and self-reliant in the best sense.

Besides keeping vegetable gardens she has always kept flower gardens; her yard won best yard in the county for years (I suspect I get both my love of natural beauty and my tendency to OCD-like neatness from her side of the family….). From the time she was a little girl she loved animals and would nurse strays to health- a manifestation of a gentleness that has gone alongside an incredibly resiliant toughness. I have never heard express racist thoughts- not a small thing for older generation Southerners; instead she has always manifested love and kindness towards everyone, even people who could hardly be thought to deserve it. She was born into a poor family, and has never been wealthy by any measure. Her wealth has been a wealth of independence, care for the land, love of family, love of God, gentleness, toughness, kindness: the sorts of things that make for true patriotism, rooted in place, rooted in virtue.

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On January 10th, 1966 Vernon Dahmer’s house was firebombed by the KKK. Mr Dahmer was an African-American farmer, Sunday School teacher, store owner, and sawmill owner in the northern part of Forrest County, Mississippi. He had earned the ire of the Klan by his dogged work at encouraging democratic participation amongst his African-American neighbors, including the use of his store as a polling station, and his paying of poll taxes. Because of his efforts, three carloads of Klansmen arrived at his house one January night and rolled a drum of gasoline onto the porch and set it ablaze. They then retreated back from the house and took up positions to fire on anyone coming out. Upon being awakened, Mr Dahmer sent his family out the back. He stayed at the house, picked up his rifle, and fought back, firing on the Klansmen, who soon fled. While his family survived safe and sound, Mr Dahmer died from burns and smoke inhalation the next day.

Vernon Dahmer gave his life for freedom: not merely in the abstract sense that his fight was one for full democracy and human rights- all terribly important things- but in the very concrete sense that he was fighting for his family, for his home, for his land, for his neighbors. He did not go looking for a fight; he did not act in defense of his own life, but that of his family. Almost as soon as he began working for voting rights he recieved threats on his life, but he was not cowed by them. In his life he exemplified love of a particular place, working the land, supporting his community.  No one told him to do any of what he did; he was not drafted or coerced into his fight for freedom. Instead he willingly chose to stand up, in the face of threats of death, for freedom. He lived as a free man, and he died as a free man.