Since the demise of the Soviet Union and the end of the Cold War the world has been overshadowed by the ominous threat of the Clash of Civilizations predicted by Samuel Huntington (1993). According to this apocalyptic vision China, in search of its place in the sun, will gravitate toward closer co-operation with the Islamic World; namely Iran and Pakistan, in order to guarantee oil for its planned development into superpower-class statehood. His thesis argues that ‘civilizational conflicts’ are more likely between Islam and non-Islamic ideologies, and so identifies as ‘bloody borders’ the frontiers between the Islamic World and the West. The roots of this proposed international conflict date to the Christian Reconquista and the final expulsion of the Islamic rulers of Spain (1492). More recently it might be argued that the halt of Turkish expansion into Europe at Vienna (1592) and the division and the European imperial colonisation of the Islamic World in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries have fuelled this modern Titanomachy.
Certainly the events of September 11th 2001 and the following decade of continuing warfare have given credence to this theory. Under the quasi legitimacy of Islamophobia racism and intolerance have been granted an alarmingly influential and acceptable platform in the discourse of the Western World. In Great Britain, for example, Paki (a derogative term for ‘Pakistani’ applied to all South Asians heedless of ethnicity, nationality or religion); the anti-immigration racial slur of the 1980s and 90s has, in the aftermath of the War on Terror, become synonymous with Muslim and Islamist (Islamic terrorist). A media-driven culture of fear in the United States and much of Europe, other than leading to the escalation of racially motivated violence and ad hoc housing estate pogroms, has added fuel to the fire already burning in the Muslim World. One need think only of the attacks on the ancient Christian communities all over the Middle East and the internecine violence between Muslims and Christians in Nigeria. It would appear indeed that we are in the midst of the Huntingtonian Clash, if not, on the fast track to that end.
The trauma of modernity has created within human society a powerful disconnect between the mythic imagination and intellectual progress, resulting in the historically recent phenomenology of religious fundamentalism. The Greek and Latin Patristic Fathers of the Christian Church, along with Saints Augustine of Hippo and Thomas Aquinas, in their use of the Hebrew Bible as types of the Gospel message, were simply not interested in the factuality of the narrated events. This same use of the texts as types is evinced in the Jewish Rabbinic literature of the Mishna and the Babylonian and Palestinian Talmudim; that, for example, one was not to follow the Canaanite practice of ritualistically ‘boiling a kid (a young goat) in its mothers milk’ was typified in the kosher dietary practice of not eating meat and dairy together. Despite our historical prejudices, these pre-modern scholars were not literalists, and neither were they fundamentalists. The real clash of our time is that of evolved human psychology and unnatural modern modes of living, which has forced a split between texts and traditions, and epistemology. It was this very idea which Eric Hyde touched upon when he wrote:
There exists a deep insecurity in the integrity of one’s religious foundations when one’s beliefs were initially formulated as a quick fix for their internal/emotional pain, or formulated in a reactionary manner “against” someone or something (Dialogue as Healing: With a Brief View of the Orthodox Sacrament of Confession, February 11th 2012).
In this respect the mythos of religion may be understood as a shelter from the trauma of modernity; an ethereal safe-house wherein ancient texts are read as one would read a modern encyclopaedia. The adoption of such a misplaced meme demands the scientific understanding of chronologies, events and commands; leading to the ironic denial of real scientific endeavour. Within such an epistemic schema one must refuse the evidence supporting dinosaurs and the evolution of all living things, and yet be frustrated by the illegality of stoning witches and women who wear men’s cloths. It is an absurdity properly defined, and one which has engendered the most serious conflict within each of the particular religious traditions. While this article began by documenting the Clash between Islam and ‘the West,’ this disconnect is a crisis now facing all religions; the line between fundamentalism and modernity is not one which runs between the religions, but one which runs through them.
So we see in India the culture war between Hindus and fundamentalist Christian evangelists where ancient Greek mythological concepts of Hades are being used as bargaining chips for ‘the salvation of souls.’ Not only is this mythology being read by the Evangelicals as a real geography of the afterlife, but it is a grammar of myth which is fundamentally alien to the religious and mythological language of the Hindu Indians. Quite literally the Christian evangelists are speaking a foreign language, and yet to them this myth is real and must in the interiority of their imagination be accepted as we can accept the Newtonian laws of motion. This concretisation of myth thus robs the myth of its intended meaning; where, at best it loses something in translation, and, at worst, becomes a serious human rights violation. Therefore we must not see this threatened Clash of Civilizations as some visionary inevitability; where it may only become a self-fulfilling prophecy. No, the problem (if such actually exists) is not in the essential difference between one culture and another, but in the psychological sameness of all human beings struggling to overcome the same trauma.
In actual fact, the situation in which we find ourselves today is nothing more than a repetition of countless times in the past where different cultures have collided. There is a wonderful set of accounts from the first interactions between Europeans and native North Americans in the early thirteenth century Grænlendinga Saga and the Eiríks Saga Rauða. When the Norwegian settlers of Iceland and Greenland happed upon the western lands of Helluland, Markland and Vinland (Canada from Labrador to Nova Scotia) they encountered ‘men.’ The oceans of difference in terms of culture, language and traditions sparked the animosities which led ultimately to the failure of the Viking settlements of North America, but there were moments of armistice and great kindness. The Scandinavians who had gone ‘a viking’ discovered that cold, hunger and hardship were universal in the human lexicon, and at times of great leanness and misery the ‘men’ whose language they did not know threw food and provisions over their palisades.
Not all communication is verbal, and nor should it be. We are on the brink of a catastrophe of truly apocalyptic proportions, and this arrival at the precipice of calamity has been more the fault of the failure of imagination and communication than it has been the fictional incompatibility of difference. As the modern secular world attempts to blast its way through to a new Pax Romana by brute force and the silencing of the religious voice, it is discovering at every turn that the human mind resists this negligence of the mythic imagination expressed in the religions of the world it seeks to conquer. Even at the Battle of Gaugamela the young Alexander called upon the furies (goddesses of the underworld) Shock and Awe to speak the language of the Persian he wished to destroy. The failure of the United States’ ideological campaign of shock and awe was that it had no basis for meaning in the Islamic World it wished to subdue. Likewise, we too must reach out to our friends and our enemies in words and actions which carry a meaning which all may understand. There are certain messages which carry significance across cultural and linguistic barriers, and when these are sought and used the result is always that of greater understanding – and understanding always brings peace.
© 2012 homophilosophicus
This post raises the obvious question, why do we have no Muslims posting here? I have had some comments on my blog asking “Why do Hindus need to join in religious discussion? We are quite happy to peacefully practice our religion without interfering with others who practice theirs. The Jews, Buddhists, Taoists, followers of Shinto, etc are the same. Its only the Christian-Islamic tradition that wants to attack others beliefs and values”. I believe that by entering discussion we can show people the harm done by extremists – but there is a valid point to this.
Is what we are doing in this discussion just calling on those who have similar beliefs, and those who we know won’t cause conflict unless we go and bother them – and ignoring the people who we really do have issues with? It seems like a community with a “difficult family” has decided to come together to deal with the issues – and gone round all the friendly houses, leaving the “difficult family” excluded.
A very happy Holi Tāṇḍava. This is a very good question and one which I don’t really have an answer for. If you look on the list of recent contributors on the right hand ‘widget area’ you will see a user by the name Chaiwala. She is our Muslim contributor but to date she has not submitted a personal statement and has been out of email contact. I have approached a number of Muslim bloggers, but there is a reluctance to get involved in such a discussion. This is understandable considering the current climate. Interestingly no Jewish bloggers have responded yet. I do have a Jewish friend who has expressed an interest and may join with us in the near future.
Why do Hindus need to join in religious discussion? We are quite happy to peacefully practice our religion without interfering with others who practice theirs! Hindus do not need enter into religious discussion. Neither do Christians or Buddhists. It is simply a matter of personal choice. Yet I think that it is naive of us to think that we are actually living in a world where we can do our own thing and let the others do their own things. We do live in a world of dynamic cultural exchanges and some of these can be rather problematic. For most Hindus, one would imagine that this question is intimately related to the questions of post-colonialism and engagement in the world as an equal alongside past colonial ‘masters (though ‘abusers’ may better fit).’
It is precisely because of the ‘difficult family’ that this conversation is happening. There is the danger that it become something of a self-congratulatory society which excludes the outsider, but unless we take that risk, and always mindful of that danger, then we close off (by inaction) all avenues of communication. Discussion — formal and informal — is always a valuable thing, and I do not believe that it is something which ought to be considered a place of interrogation. It is first and foremost a place for the making of friends, then a place of sharing.
Thanks homophilosophicus,
I think that for some bloggers this might be an intimidating place. I know that I was very worried about posting here and not meeting the standard.
People from a non-Western background might find the menu titles intimidating too. Don’t forget that to the Jews the language of liturgy and wisdom is biblical Hebrew, to the Muslim Qur’anic Arabic, and to the Hindu Sanskrit. The blog title an menu links would probably be as incomprehensible to an educated Jew, Muslim or Hindu as a site with menu links in Arabic or Sanskrit would be to you.
I hope that you do manage to find some Jewish and Muslim bloggers, it would be good to have a wider representation.
Jason, you touch on a subject that has become for me a lifetime study; I sense that it will eventually become the capstone of all my studies, that is this “trauma of modernity.”
I was particularly intrigued with the paragraph that beings, “In this respect the mythos of religion…” As an ex-Evangelical I can relate to the confusing venture of needing to read the ancient narratives of the Bible as wholly literal while at the same time endlessly searching for clever exceptions as to why one must read certain passages as metaphoric. You brought up fine examples, but as an Orthodox Christian I now realize that my epic failure as an Evangelical was to try and read the Biblical passages concerning the Eucharist as metaphoric. Somehow when Christ said “This IS my body… This IS my blood,” I had to make the knee-jerk translation of “This is symbolic of my body… This is symbolic of my blood,” with no rhyme or reason why other than I had to avoid thinking like a Catholic (for the Evangelical all things Catholic are evil, man-made concoctions with the nefarious intent of stealing away the grace of God).
At any rate, I’m curious to get more of your thinking on this point. What do you see specifically as the “trauma” which “all human beings struggle to overcome”?
Now this is some question for a Friday night now Eric! You really mustn’t get me started on these things, but since we are here — I might as well. Allow me to address first your statement on the nature of the Eucharist and myth. It is a common misconception that myth is a synonym for false, and this simply is not correct. Mythos, properly defined is the over-transference of meaning, and therefore it would not be incorrect to speak of the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharistic species as metaphor. Where this becomes confused is when one reduces the meaning of metaphor to a mere transferred meaning. Being, as we both are, from traditions which accept the Real Presence (yet no doubt we will have our shades of difference), we may at least see in the Blesséd Sacrament of the altar an ‘anamnetic’ or mythically re-enacted singular event by remembrance.
On trauma: Before I account for my take on trauma it would be best to refer you to two works which have influenced my thinking greatly on this score. The first I mentioned to you before; Slavoj Žižek. He has a slinky little number aptly titled On Trauma, and is an astounding piece of work. The next is Erich Fromm’s Man for Himself; a clinical analysis of the modern trauma of productivity (in the Marxist sense).
What do I see specifically as the trauma with which all human beings struggle to overcome? As creatures (in the Darwinian sense) we have still the primal minds of the earliest incipient agriculturalists; hence the universality of the farming motif (death and rebirth) in our mythologies. As animals (in the general evolutionary sense) we act as nature hard-wired us to act; this is manifest in the drives (in the Freudian sense). This fusion of modes of thought and desire creates the synthesis of what is quintessentially human in our nature. Trauma (in the Žižek sense) then is a by-product of our human state colliding with the sum of our creativity qua productivity; intellectual development transcending our instincts etc. In short (and this may go down as the most convoluted response I have ever given) — we are monkeys with cell phones.
Zizek is great, and has completely transformed the way I approach the crucifixion and resurrection events. Strangely fitting that a self-avowed atheist should mature my faith so.
Have either Jason or Eric read Bruce Chilton’s “Rabbi Jesus”? His scholarship has helped me in my own struggles to better integrate and discern the literal and metaphorical narratives of the Bible. Eric’s question regarding the Eucharist made me think of it, for Chilton’s answer to that dilemma is quite provoking.
Chilton renders the last supper in this way:
Jesus, fresh from his furious response to the money lenders in the temple, is making a powerful statement. He is making a statement of identity in relation to God. Rather than succumb to the prostituted system of sacrifice at the temple, Jesus takes a bold stand. Rather than the compromised flesh and blood of the priestly class’ sacrificial altar, Jesus subverts the system entirely. Rather than the flesh in the temple, THIS simple bread is his flesh for sacrifice, THIS simple wine his his blood. Chilton goes on to say that Jesus never intended people to think it was HIS literal flesh and blood, but merely the flesh and blood of a sacrifice which has no need for the intercessions of a politicized and priestly class. This was Jesus challenging the power of the institutional Temple and claiming that God is present here and now. In effect he cuts out the middle man.
I understand this is rather heretical to many Christians, but I found it most intriguing, and it makes sense in the larger context of Jesus’ life.
Jason, I am ready to make a contribution to Liberation Theology if the offer still stands.
Thanks so much,
Joe
Joe, you are correct to say that many Christians would find Bruce Chilton’s ideas on the matter heretical, particularly those of the Orthodox stripe; I don’t think many Protestants would have much to say since they tend to agree with his assessment of Christ’s body and blood. I would also say that, besides his treatment of the Eucharist, Chilton also fleshes out some Manichaeism tendencies.
Oh now I have a quibble. There is no single ‘protestant’ church, and it is for this reason that I prefer to speak of the Reformations rather than the Reformation. On this score not all of the reforms were sacramental or theological in nature. A splendid example of this is a review of Luther’s Ninety-Five Theses in the light of the reforms of Vatican II. In fairness, you did say ‘many protestants,’ yet being an Anglo-Catholic I am rather sensitive to any generalisations of the Reform. It puts many Lutherans and Anglicans in a weird position; most protestants would not recognise us as reformed, and no Catholic would recognise us as catholic. It does get lonely out here.
Ah, but Jason, there’s no quibble unless you take the low church Anglican view of the Eucharist, which aligns you with a more Lutheran view. I tend to not confuse Anglicans with Protestants so my comment wasn’t looking to throw you under the bus.
Ah yes, I did get that. I always find it somewhat amusing that intolerance seems to be more virulent between opposing sides within particular religious traditions than it is between people of different traditions. The ‘low’ and ‘high’ divide in the Anglican tradition is a wonderful case in point; a ‘tradition’ that since the Act of Uniformity (1558) has always been on the verge of implosion.