Studying Conflict in the City of Belfast

I had the good fortune today of attending a seminar at Queens university entitled “Remedies and the Latin America Experience: Lessons for Northern Ireland”, led by professor Dinah Shelton. Shelton presented on various post conflict situations in South and Latin america and the varying roles played by commissions playing a role in conflict resolution or de-escalation by using human rights law. Other participants outlined the current state of the Northern Irish peace process, and then differences and similarities were discussed with an emphasis on how the different processes could mutually inform each other. Many issues arose, but I will focus on two: the question of the need for a single ‘grand narrative’ in order to move forward with common memorialization of the conflict, and the role of ideology versus economic motivations behind armed conflict and the difference that plays in blocking the emergence of common narratives.

Professor Shalton emphasized the need for a single “truth” narrative, or “grand” narrative to be adopted by both communities in order to move forward at the end of a conflict. There are various practical benefits to the emergence of a single narrative – for instance, it facilitates teaching the conflict in schools, and it enables a strict definition on the question of who is a victim, thereby making possible memorials which iconically place the conflict in the past. However, in the situation in the North of Ireland after the troubles there is no single narrative of the conflict emerging as dominant, and it doesn’t seem to me that any number of “truth” commissions could ever establish such a narrative. Each community, nationalist and unionist alike, have their own understanding of what the conflict was about, why certain actions were justified in the needs of the time, and these narratives give different answers to who counts as a victim. And it’s not obvious to me that either community is wrong, or at least wrong in the sense of saying something false. For the unionist community, the chief value has been the maintenance of the British character of the north of Ireland – and if you take this as the chief value, then the catholic rebels appear as terrorists, clearly undeserving of memorial. On the other hand, from a nationalist perspective, the struggle was about a minority community fighting for its rights, and from that perspective the emergence of the IRA’s campaign through the 70s to the 90s appears as something itself born out of violent repression of the Catholic community – and therefore IRA paramilitaries are themselves victims of the oppression, and therefore victims even if involved in armed conflict with members of the unionist community or the British. Of course there is much more that can be said of narratives on both sides (including the multiplicity of narratives on both sides), but my point is that there is no neutral perspective which both communities could take on from which there is a single answer to “who is a victim”. Moreover, it seems to me unnecessary that a grand memorial of the conflict be created. Both communities have their own memorials, and more or less, both communities have moved on. To ask them to move on by accepting a common narrative is as much as asking them to move on by giving up the community identity which they fought for thirty years to protect – a losing proposition. Moreover, I don’t see why a single narrative is required to teach the conflict in schools – for what reason could not multiple narratives of the conflict be taught, wouldn’t this reveal the inherent instability and contingency of the chief values in each? And even better, they might be taught in a way that problematizes the dominant narratives on either side, because in fact there are multiple Nationalist or Nationalist-Republican narratives, and multiple unionist or unionist-loyalist narratives. Teaching a larger swatch of narratives about each community than the community even represents to itself would be a way of undermining the intellectual authority of each community on its own history without becoming partisan, without attacking the community from the “other side”. I could imagine a way of teaching the nationalist-republican narrative which criticized the dominance of the Provisional IRA and emphasized the important role of the Marxist IRA in the period leading up to 1975. Also, I could imagine teaching the unionist-loyalist narrative with emphasis on the disingenuous split between the elected representatives and the loyalist paramilitaries who they pretend not to support or be affiliated with. If this was taught by a former paramilitary, and his or her testimony put into tension with that of a unionist politician, the tension might produce a space where people who feel strongly for or against that position could open up and explore its intricacies.

The second topic I want to treat is the idea of “ideology”. Shelton claimed that the hardest conflicts to overcome are those driven purely by ideology, specifically Maoist ideology. However, this seems to ignore the way that ideology emerges as a response to the harsh conditions of the oppressed, and extreme ideologies are not always social pathologies but can be adaptive to certain circumstances. Moreover, it seems to imply that “human rights remedies” is not itself a highly ideological position – one which tends to exclude or at least de-privilege community rights below individual rights. And that’s fine, we already agree with her because we’re comfortable liberals, but it makes me cringe when I recognize that one of the things that is happening when human rights law is used as a remedy to a conflict which involves issues of colonization, is that the law itself is an instrument of colonization because it picks out subjects as individuals, and tends to take away the ability of people to act as groups and form their own norms and institute them in social groups. And this is only a luxury you get when you are perfectly happy not challenging the state. But if you are unlucky enough to be born into a situation where you can’t recognize the state, or you need to act against the state, then human rights law might very well appear as an obstacle, something standing between you and victory.

Travel and Principles

I’m not vegan when I travel. It would be easy for me to say this is for practical reasons, “it simply isn’t reasonable, the food isn’t available, it’s too hard”. But that isn’t actually my reason – rather, I think that principles, like not consuming animal products, can only be comprehended and stood for in specific cultural-historical contexts. Or rather, while because they are principles and are completely abstractable from any context, if we are serious about instituting them we need to pay attention to the relative amenability of different contexts to those principles. And maybe the principle that I stand for in one place doesn’t translate to another, isn’t the priority. But that isn’t the only reason- it’s also because I think the point of travelling is to experience the place that you are in, and the food is part of that. Eating a “vintage cheddar ploughmans” from a 24 hr cafe at heathrow is part of the experience of transferring through a modern London airport, a part that would be missed if I carried my own vegan rations with me. It’s part of modern britain – an intense emphasis on packaged yet relatively fresh food with mostly whole ingredients, and which hearkens back to traditional styles. This sandwich actually says a lot about what Britain is today, how it thinks of itself, and how it is negotiating the current social activisty critiques of capitalism. (And thereby, how capitalism can sustain itself in the face of the local food movement, showing why those movements are not revolutionary but however can have positive effects).

This kind of reflection should move from a particular towards a general truth, so I’ll have at it with this one: taking for granted that the purpose of politics is to apply a prescription which holds universally onto particular reals, we are irresponsible and not in fact faithful to our own principles if we do not carefully take heed of the way principles are in fact interlacing with the social fabric at different places and different times. Chomsky to some extent rejects this, and says we pay too close attention to the prevailing mood and ignore that the same radical acts are possible regardless of this feeling of a zeitgeist. But while that might be true for exceptional actions, he also says that education is a pre-requisite for direct action, and that means we can’t avoid being sensitive to prevailing conditions, to general social attitudes insofar as these are what you intervene into when you do education work. Education, unlike direct action, is fostered by engagement and non-confrontation (whereas genuine political moments are confrontations, and occur when the time for negotiating is over). So, for these reasons, I think there is a serious argument for suspending one’s own principles, and even one’s own practices, if it is for the sake of deepening one’s understanding of the way principles are twined into societies, because these forms of research can notice the place where the hypocricy is weakest, the right place of intervention where education and action have the best chance of success.

Branding and Prescriptive Politics

In the following remarks, I will attempt to put forth a case which connects the structure of market branding with the structure of prescriptive political declarations. Both depend on a relation of simplification, in which what is essential about that to which the concept is applied is much less complex than what would be revealed by any serious attempt to study it. The details of both cases, however, arise in the complexities of application and the complexities of generation. Those claims may appear obscure, but they will be clarified below.

First, what is the structure of a brand?

Product – Brand – Product

or, to give a specific example,

Vegas  -  Slogan (“What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas”)  -  Vegas

The product is real, the brand is a word, and the repetition of the product after the injunction of the brand is real. It looks like this:

organic reality -> brand -> organic dissemination

If the slogan doesn’t actually capture and re-produce something about the real experience, it will come off as dishonest, and won’t spread organically through the population. The slogan, of course, has to be much simpler than the real experience – just must capture some rhythm of it, some sense of it, that is distinctive, and which is shared between multiple participants.

Now let’s do the analysis of a prescription:

Social -> Prescription -> Injunction

The prescription arises out of the social and makes an injunction into it, differentiating it in a new manner, having certain effects. The conditions for the success of a prescription are of the same type as for a brand – the prescription must grip the organic reality it tries to cut up in a new way; if it does not, it will simply be ignored and die. A successful prescription (i.e. “Freedom”) depends on patterns and especially needs and desires already existent in the social prior to its invocation.

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Two hours at #occupywallstreet

This is a re-posting of a blog post I wrote for the Toronto media co-op site. Consider reading it on that site instead because then you can see my photos. 

 

Yesterday morning I spent a few hours at #occupywallstreet. It seems a bit silly – to drive more than two thousand kilometers over a weekend and only spend a few minutes at the ground zero of the occupy movement, but for complex reasons and the fact I was travelling with a dozen others, this is what was possible for me.

Even in such a short time, I was able to gather some significant impressions. The first thing I noticed was that the park where the protestors are located is very small – significantly smaller than St. James park in Toronto where the occupy movement is centred here. The park is covered with tents, but I’d say that in general the Toronto site is more impressive – more developed food tent, more shelter, more tents, more space. But, the impressiveness of the site itself is not the point of the occupy movement – the fact is that occupation has been going on much longer (since sept 27th, not oct 15th), and their general assemblies are much larger than ours (although I did not actually get to attend one).

The protest is right in the centre of New York. That might not mean much to someone who hasn’t been to New York, but I’ll try to give you an idea. The park is literally right next to the World Trade Centre site. Across the street from the tents, is the construction site of the WTC memorial, and the new “Freedom” tower being built there. Right next to the park is that little church and ancient cemetery which you probably saw in the twin towers disaster TV coverage. Right above the park is the famous “fancy” Mcdonalds which has a Piano and table service. In other words, it’s in the heart of the wealth and power of America – we say “Wall Street”, but it could as easily be called Occupy Financial District, or even Occupy WTC. The protest there looks and feels out of place – it’s not the part of NY where you’d expect to see activists.

This might be obvious, but protest has become a tourist attraction. Up along the right side of the park (looking uphill, I’m not sure about the compass coordinates) there is a walkway divided off from the tents so people can walk up and down the sidewalk. Along the walkway are various food vendors. There are photographers everywhere, usually not “real” photographers but tourists wearing overpriced point and shoot cameras around their necks. People there find this a bit obnoxious. In one conversation, some students who had come down from Chicago for one night and the general assembly decided to start talking to people taking photographs – not so much to tell them to stop, but to engage them in conversation. Because, as they recognized, these people are the 99% and their experiences at occupy wall street will filter back to their friends and their communities, so everyone there is the face of the movement. Several conversations I had there worked along the theme of trying to see past conflict, trying even to see the police as not essentially anyone’s enemy, at least not insofar as they are individuals. People were also in agreement, however, when I pointed out that the institution of the police encourages a kind of in-group loyalty which is expressed in the way the police tend to protect each other when they commit crimes, and that this isn’t an accident but actually an essential part of how a police force operates.

What struck me most about the people I met there was the sense that it truly was a representation of “average” americans. I realize I will take flak for saying this, but at other occupy sites I’ve visited there is a sense that what you are seeing there is the local protest/activist-class all uniting on a piece of land, and talking to each other. And that’s great – that’s an important thing to happen – for people who have causes to have a place where they can go and meet each other and support each other. But what I saw in NY was something a bit different, not people who are pushed to the margins of society by their beliefs and causes, but people right in the middle of the American social norms – both middle and working class people who believe their government shouldn’t be owned by the financial sector, who think taxes are essentially something good, and who think everyone deserves a decent life with decent work and respect. Also, I met mostly people with very normal social skills – really people who are not especially marginalized by the system, but who believe the system is unjust to the point where something has to be done about it.

Perhaps this reflects the extremity of the situation in America. It really is much worse there than here – and I don’t think this means we shouldn’t occupytoronto, but I do think it means that the occupation here might mean something a bit different, a bit more of a defence of the bits of sanity that still exists in our government, and a bit less of the need to attack the neo-liberalization which has already taken over the United States. That said, if the inequality in Canada continues to rise at the current rate, it won’t be long before we have a very similar situation here as there.

Is religion a force for good? No, there are 2 religions.

We live in an era of incessant debates which quarrel over the question “is religion a force for good”. What results is fame and fortune for the most prolific writers and debaters, embrassement for those who can not match the skills of their opponents in debate, defensiveness on the part of the quiet and well meaning but timid religious majority, self-righteousness for atheists because it gives them a chance to feel radical even if they are the farthest thing from activists, and perhaps a very small amount of genuine thinking.

I challenge that the problem with these debates is that the question is malposed. While I’m all for simplification, and I think “organized religion” is a real category which we can talk about, it just turns out that within organized religions there are two tendencies – one that tends towards the re-institution of traditions for their own sake (conservatism), and the other which demands on the basis of a dogmatic tenant, societal reforms or even revolution. The first set of tendencies put off the redemption of religion to a future life, or a future decision by the godhead. The second set demand that the decision has already been taken, and it is up to humans to implement it.

Organized religion is thus both revolutionary and conservative. And it’s not simply that some organized religions are revolutionary, and some are conservative, or that the same organized religion is revolutionary in one place and conservative in another (although this has certainly been the case in the Catholic church’s internal struggle for and against liberation theology). Rather, every organized religion have both of these tendencies at the same time, but perhaps to different degrees and with different results, insofar as they meet two basic conditions. The first condition concerns prophesy, which is always in the past, and the second concerns the messianic future.

1. The Prophetic Past

Organized religions tend to be organized around books. This might seem arbitrary if we believe religions are simply organs of power – why not just have a religion with a deity in charge, a person who’s word is true by virtue of their identity? The answer to this is, of course, the inherent instability of tribal political organization – institutions are stable, but at the cost of serving themselves rather than the people in them. Even the leaders of an institution serve the institution. So, the institution needs some content over and beyond the personality of its leaders – and this content is scripture and interpretation of scripture.

The scripture must motivate people. Or rather, while technically it would be possible to have a religion where people only believed in the scripture because they were threatened with violence if they believed otherwise, the character of internal belief is such that it is almost impossible to believe something only because you are being forced to. It is therefor far more efficient to create scriptures which themselves help in the motivating process. There is something compelling about scripture  - the texts themselves want to be believed, and you want to believe them. Of course, it’s possible to resist this temptation with reason and critical faculties, but the fact that you must resist the easy beliefs proves their power of motivation.

Now, for a scripture to be motivating, it must accord in some sense with your person. There must be something about it which falls into line with either what you already believed, or with what you wanted to believe but didn’t know yet. If you are going to believe it to be the eternal truth, especially on a question of justice, it must be “believable”, in fact, it must not only fail to be repulsive, but if we believe that the motivating character of scripture might be one of the differences that makes some religions grow and others fail, perhaps it might confer some advantage on itself if it accords with an internal principle of justice – something we think on the basis of being human, something that we all think.

Now, this of course is not a very popular view amongst post-modernists who wish everything to be socially constructed, and the degree to which social forms can differ completely infinite. But just for the sake of argument assume that the idea of equal worth and equal dignity is a fundamental property of human justice, and that it follows either from the idea of freedom (Rousseau/Hegel/Sartre/Badiou/Hallward), or from the kind of being which we ourselves are – finite, thrown into a world of possibilities, already caught up in projects, and needing to cope with situations of tension and conflict with each other (roughly, the Phenomenological and Sociological traditions). If we believe this, we might begin to think that if religions were only unjust, immoral institutions – why would they include this idea? Because they do, (at least some of the time, and not enough). And it’s really inconvenient for them to do so – because it means commentators have to go to great interpretive lengths to show why, despite some commandment or principle or religious law, it’s still ok to kill people that you hate, or who you think are your enemy. It would be much easier all around if religions explicitly only granted the right to life for people in the in-group. But, I challenge, if they did that they would have more difficulty recruiting new members, and maintaining motivation amongst existing members.

Not only do principles of freedom pose problems for organized religions when they are trying to be genocidal and colonialist, they also can produce situations where those values get out of control, so to speak, and people on their basis demand certain political rights. Liberation theology is the best example of this, but you could also look at the Catholic struggle for equal rights in Northern Ireland, and the Palestinian struggle for fair treatment and the return of their homeland. While there are secular elements of all of these conflicts (certainly the Palestinian struggle was dominantly secular up until the first intifada), many people in these conflicts have religious beliefs – and I’d be surprised if their ideas of equal worth, anti-tribalism and anti-colonialism do not receive much of their emotional motivation from the idea that “I deserve to be treated as such because God says so”, or “My grievances are as valid as his or hers because God says so.” These are interesting kinds of statements, “because God says so” is completely unverifiable, and it seems to come from nowhere. But, maybe there is something profoundly powerful about the fact that a liberatory statement can come, as if, “from nowhere”. If a liberatory principle had to be empirically grounded in evidence, it perhaps never would be justified at all. What evidence do you have, after all, that you are as worthy of consideration as another human being? Appeals to the sociological content of a political situation only reveals the emotive dynamics and the differential power and importance and usefulness of the different actors. In other words, if you demand an empirical ground to equal worth, all you will find is different worths. And there’s a reason for this – social organizations are complex, and they don’t function well if everyone has the same task, or even a task of similar importance. Difference people have different skills, and which skills are valuable changes depending on the conditions – that’s not “ableism”, that’s just the real world.

Trying to make everyone equal empirically in a struggle is cause of indigestion in radical movements – just look at how the need to “not be ableist”, if interpreted in a naive way, results in organizations acting so clearly against their best interests. Clear examples of this tend to involve people who do not have the adequate skills to accomplish a task being directed to do that task, and the result is failures, and the worsening of the situation for everyone together.

The equal worth of people is a theological tenant, or a metaphysical tenant if you need to expel the idea of God. It comes as if from outside. Of course it doesn’t actually come from outside – it comes because someone had the idea and wrote it down, and other people htought it was a good idea – the idea grew through the public imaginary and was captured by the religions system which uses it towards its own ends. But, that same idea can always escape from the grips of the priests and be used against them in a struggle for the fulfilment of the value, rather than of their ends which always concern the next world rather than this one. This brings us to the second condition of religion:

2. The Messianic Future

Organized religions motivate people with beliefs that are genuinely related to human justice. But, they have to make sure they maintain themselves as power structures. The easiest way to do this is play a trick with time. To say, “Sure, everyone is equal before God, but you don’t have to worry about changing the situation here because the judgement that matters is God’s, and God’s judgement judges every person equally” – this conveniently avoids the fact that on earth, the rich are not judged equally to the poor – the rich get off, and the poor go to the jail. This deferral of justice is power’s greatest ally, because it allows it to maintain the highest moral authority, while propagating or at least perpetuating endless criminality.

The real trick, however, is to get people to believe that the apocalypse, the return of the messiah, or whatever future event justice is waiting for, is not only the moment of the redemption of the pious – but the arrival of a justice so much greater than human justice, that human justice in relation to it is not even worth fighting for. This idea manifests itself differently in different religions, but is always the attempt to not only defer, but invalidate the struggles that religion can support as I’ve outlined in the first condition. I don’t like to bring in specific examples, but I must speak a little about Protestantism – there is an idea in the Protestant mindset that acts are without value, acts are like dirty rags – only God’s love can save us, and what we do is somehow of no consequence – and therefore we can avoid our moral obligation to stop injustice – even when we directly profit from the injustice. The protestant idea that acts are like dirty rags literally makes it palatable to people to own stock in companies that organize the killing of union organizers. This is pretty amazing, and it helps me understand why America and Canada are protestant countries. (We of course look at the Catholic church as genocidal institution with a dictator at the top, and we should, but by doing this we avoid seeing the structural injustice permitted by the anti-Catholic Christian sects, which are the protestant churches).

Perhaps the most terrifying thing about the messianic condition is that it makes people want the end of the world. Literally, Christian Zionists across North America today are celebrating the desecration of not only Muslim but also Christian graves in occupied Palestine because they believe that it is a step towards bringing the great war which will start world war three, and kill most people (including most Jews, incidentally, except for a few thousand). And it makes sense for them to want the end of the world – if you love the justice of the final decision infinitely more than human justice, then why wouldn’t you try to bring about the cataclysm as quickly as possible?

Christianity is the religion I am most familiar with – and it has in it these two conditions in a profound way. And, it has had them for ever – the serious attempts to understand the lives of Jesus and Paul tend to come to the conclusion that they actually believed that the day of judgment would arrive in their lifetime. The famous quote attributed to Jesus, “worry not for the morrow”, literally makes no sense unless you believe that the apocalypse will come in your own lifetime – on what other basis could it be moral to leave your job, your children, your family, to follow a crazed lunatic across the land? And Jesus clearly some decent qualities to have motivated so many followers (although, it seems like more in retrospect, in reality there were not so many Jesus followers before Paul invented Christianity, and even then, Christianity is mostly Pauline mysticism with little to do with Jesus’s actual teachings or the historical lineage of his rabbinical practice).

The question of whether “religion is a force for good in the world” should really be interpreted in terms of these two conditions which organized religions rely upon. The extent to which religions are apocalyptic, and defer justice to death or to the resurrection, they can easily be mobilized for evil. The extent, however, to which they motivate people to act on humanist values, because they feel God has told them, to this extent they can be unmatched sources of positive motivation.

Secularism has many advantages – the cool calm use of reason can propel the human mind and spirit far beyond what the shackles of religion will allow. But so long as religion will be a force in the world, we have a choice of either leaving it alone, or trying to support its most revolutionary elements. Those who hate the world because it does not contain the objective conditions for the fulfillment of their values are resentful, weak, and nihilistic in the worst sense. The revolutionaries who will change the world are those willing to listen, read, and adopt to the current circumstances that they find themselves in, and support the liberatory values while kindly and gently working to marginalize the power of deferral to avoid the messianic apocalypse from becoming a self-fulfilling prophesy.

Film Review: “The Occupation has no Future” (Toronto Palestine Film Festival 2011)

I saw “The Occupation Has No Future” tonight at the Toronto Palestinian film festival. In fact, the film was very difficult for me to watch. In part because it showed many placed I have been to, and showed them honestly, which is quite an intense thing. Also, however, it was difficult for me to watch because, while it was certainly a film about the occupation of the West Bank, it displayed almost exclusively the Israeli perspective. This does not mean it showed a Zionist perspective – I think probably every Israeli ex soldier or activist from “Anarchists against the Wall” either explicitly or implicitly identified as in some way anti-Zionist. However, anti-Zionist for an Israeli means something quite different than anti-Zionist for a Palestinian (especially on the question of the land inside the 48 borders). But this wasn’t my problem – my problem, which was really an emotional one, is that it is difficult for me to accept that the primary narratives that we hear about “the occupation” (which in Canada always always excludes the occupation of Palestine by Israel within its 48 borders), we hear about it either from Israeli activists, or from Palestinians who are very much supporting the “2 state solution”, and “human rights”, and “non violent resistance” – not just as a means but as a principle.

This is all very understandable. It’s really the only critique of Israel which a North American audience is ready to hear. But I know that it covers up so many other voices in the West Bank, and also the voices of the Palestinian refugees. There are Palestinians who call Bel’in “bullshit resistance”. I’m not saying they are right – but their perspective is basically never part of the way the Palestine conflict is presented to North American activists.

The other problem with the movie, which is connected, is that when Palestinian voices are heard – they are not heard in the same intimate way that Israeli voices can perform. This is understandable – the film was made by US Iraqi war resistors who made connections with Refusenicks and Israeli anarchists (which in this case means mostly culturally European jews). I’m sure it was much easier for them to establish relationships with former IDF soldiers, as former US soldiers themselves, and with Israeli anarchists, who share a lot in common with American activists in terms of values and tactics.

However is still really a problem for the movie, which purports to be about how the occupation sustains a militarized society. But the movie did not for one second approach the topic of how the occupation sustains Palestinian militarism. They did not even interview anyone from the PASF, or as Chomsky calls it, General Dayton’s army. This would not have been impossible to at least attempt to contact former Palestinian militants, i.e. through Combatants for Peace, and this way they could have at least heard from some Palestinian soldiers who also might feel like they have “no future” under the occupation, and who perhaps have also done things which they regret – or maybe they don’t regret because they continue to be on the losing side of this military and social conflict.

But, in general, watch the movie. Especially if you haven’t been there, and you have this idea that the IDF is a “humane” army. If you think that, that’s fine, but you are being dishonest with yourself if you do not allow your opinion of the IDF to be challenged by former IDF soldiers who disagree with you.

There are two small errors in the movie. The history is very thin – there is really no explanation of how the occupation came to be. And, this is really not acceptable for a feature film on the occupation. But that is not an error. The first error is that in the short history presentation that is given, the term “green line” is used to describe the eastern border of the Municipality of Jerusalem, which I believe Israel drew in July 1967, about one month after the invasion of the West Bank. The analysis of the drawing of the border is correct, but it is not the “green line” – as I’m sure most readers of this blog know, the Green line divides East from West Jerusalem, and the internationally recognized boundaries of Israel from the West Bank. Israel did not conquer “the West Bank and East Jerusalem” in the 67 war – it conquered the West Bank, and then proceeded to divide off East Jerusalem from the rest of the West Bank by decree – and this border (the municipal boundary of Jerusalem), is I think recognized by no states in the world – not even the United States! There was even a UN resolution in the early 80s explicitly condemning Israel’s annexation of East Jerusalem, and every country in the world moved their embassies out of Jerusalem – even the United States (much to the protest of the zionist dominated congress! ha!)

Why Chinese Keffiyuhs are not destroying the Palestinian Economy

Almost anytime the topic of keffiyuhs is brought up, someone mentions Chinese keffiyuh production as the cause of the shutdown of Palestinian keffiyuh factories, and the precarious situation of the last remaining plant: the Hirbawi textile factory in Hebron.

The argument runs something like this: Chinese keffiyehs, which have printed patterns rather than woven ones, are cheaper and therefore tourists buy them instead of the traditional Palestinian headscarves. Thus putting the plant out of business.

And it’s true, the printed scarves are cheaper – in Hebron you can buy Chinese printed keffiyuhs for 10 shekels, and real woven keffiyuhs from Hirbawi cost 25 shekel. But after that, the argument starts to fall apart. The chinese keffiyehs are nothing like the woven keffiyehs – the fabric is much lighter, and the patterns are not the same. The scarves from Hirbawi come in the various politically significant patterns, and the Chinese scarves do not. And the multicoloured fashion scarves from Hirbawi are much more beautiful, delicate and complex than the Chinese Keffiyuhs. I know this because I brought back many of them, and people here absolutely adore them, whereas the Chinese printed scarves are really just hipster chick.

Moreover, the Chinese scarves are not sold as pervasively throughout the West Bank and Arab areas of the state of Israel as you might expect. Everywhere you go in Palestine you see Keffiyehs, but usually you see the red checker pattern and the black and white pattern made famous by Arafat. These are woven keffiyuhs, and they are not made in China. However, they are usually not made in Hebron either – the reality is most woven keffiyuhs sold in Palestine are produced in the surrounding Arab countries: Egypt, Syria, Jordan, Saudi. You can learn this from the shopkeepers, or if your arabic is good you can read the label. The keffiyehs from Arab countries are of good quality, sometimes better than the ones made in Hebron. For instance, my arafat-patterned keffiyuh, a precious gift from a friend in the Kalandia camp, is not from Hebron but Jordan – and it is a much softer and richer scarf than the arafat patterned keffiyehs I bought at Hebron.

The key here is to see that the printed keffiyuhs and woven keffiyuhs are not goods which are in competition with each other. If someone buys a printed keffiyuh for 10 shekel, they are not buying it instead of a 25 shekel woven keffiyuh. They are bought by different people for different reasons. Or, sometimes by the same people for different reasons. For instance, while I bought about woven keffiyuhs in Palestine, nearly all from Hirbawi, I also bought a single red and black printed keffiyuh – because sometimes, just sometimes, I don’t want to wear something political. Most people are the opposite of me – they never want to wear something which will cause others to scowl and call you a terrorist behind your back. If these people buy printed keffiyuhs, they are not hurting the Palestinian economy, because they wouldn’t have bought a real keffiyuh anyway. 

Don’t think that because I’m opposing the “it’s all China’s fault” analysis that I don’t support Hirbawi textiles. I do – I’m currently working on importing a large quantity of scarves from Hebron, which I will sell at cost to individuals and Palestinian solidarity groups in Toronto (I’m not interested in making a return). There are various groups in North America doing this, trying to help keep the factory open. And this is a good thing to do – I want the people I met there, and had coffee with, to be able to keep their jobs. But it doesn’t help them to spread the idea that the Chinese are putting them out of business – if they had a larger chunk of the Keffiyuh sales, even just in the West Bank (mostly selling to tourists in Ramallah), they would be in a fine position. The fact is, they are being out competed by production in Jordan and Syria – not China.

 

Religions and Secular Ethics as Psycho-Technologies

In A Preface to Morals, Walter Lippman makes the point that religion doesn’t merely give people an ethical theory which describes how they ought to act, but also creates the motivational structures which elicit them to act according to the theory. In other words, religion is not merely a how-to manuel on how to act, to be evaluated alongside other how-to manuels, but is something more akin to a piece of magic – a psycho-technology which bores into people, spreads through groups, and tends to propagate itself while motivating certain individual and social actions for the group.

Post-religious ethics is only a few hundred years old. Immanuel Kant is often recognized as the first philosopher to take seriously the need to create a new ground for ethical motivation and moral choice after believing in God is no longer unquestionable enough to motivate moral choice unequivocally throughout a society. Kant may have written before the death of God was complete, but his project of creating a theology-free ground for ethical action is motivated by the warning signs that Christianity is on the decline in Europe. Moreover, it is motivated by Kant’s cosmopolitanism – his desire for different nations to live in peace, and he thought that if ethical action was no longer based on one’s particular God, but on one’s universal humanity, genuine respect for people outside the in-group was more possible. And, that’s still a good idea today.

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Ron Paul’s “Boos”: 9/11 or Palestine?

After tonight’s debate between candidates running for the republican nomination in the next presidential elections, many newspapers quickly published articles which highlight in their title the fact that Ron Paul was “booed” for his views on 9/11.

I don’t have time to watch the entire debate, but I watched this compilation of Ron Paul’s answers, and I think it’s significant to point out that only during one question was he booed.

He was booed was while he was describing the explicit motives for 9/11 as described by Bin Laden and Al Quaeda. I’ll write it out in full because I think it is significant to notice the exact moments when the “boos” appeared.

…Osama Bin-Laden and Al Quaeda have been explicit and they wrote and said that we attacked America because you had bases on our holy land in Saudi Arabia, you do not give Palestinians fair treatment. And you had been bombing…I didn’t say that, I’m trying to get you to understand what the motive was. At the same time we had been bombing and killing hundreds of thousands of Iraqis for ten years. Would you be annoyed? If you’re not annoyed, then there is some problem.

The “boos” come in two choruses. The first is right after he says”Osama Bin-Laden and Al Quaeda have been explicit”. I’m not sure what the motivation for this could be. Is it just that the “terrorists”, as the radical evil enemy, can not be allowed to speak for themselves? Or is it that people listening assume that the kind of empathy required to understand the motivations of others is the same as sympathy – the support for other people’s positions and goals. Either way, the first boos are not very interesting.

The boos stop, and significantly there are no boos at all while Ron Paul says “because you had bases on our holy land in Saudi Arabia”. This is significant, I think, because Ron Paul has already mentioned the issue of foreign military bases several times in the debate, receiving many cheers. So the “bases” talking point is not a new issue – and if people thought that America had the god given right to have bases over there, maybe they would boo at this moment. But they don’t, so maybe we could think about that.

The second chorus of boos actually happen immediately after Ron Paul says “you did not give Palestinians fair treatment”. I wonder if there is a significant portion of Republicans who simply programmed to “Boo” whenever the term Palestinian is used. This joke aside – this I think is something we should think about.

I have to wonder what it sounds like to a Christian zionist like Glenn Beck even to hear the term “Palestinian”. I imagine the mere saying of it invokes the presence of a people who’s very existence appears as a threat to his beloved Israel. I’m not one for “understanding both sides” of an issue, at least not for knowledge’s own sake – but maybe the word “Palestinian” sounds to extreme Zionists pretty much the same as the word “Zionist” sounds to anti-Zionists – it is after all the very presence of the Zionist movement which threatens the rights of Palestinians to exist as a people. So, while I won’t say there is anything symmetrical about the situation, I will acknowledge that there is some reciprocality to these terms and their meaning.

It’s kind of funny to imagine the same statement in a very different context. Imagine if Ron Paul were talking about the zionist motives behind the King David Hotel bombing

…Begin, Ben Gurion and the Hebrew Resistance Force have been explicit and they wrote and said that we attacked Britain because you had bases on our holy land in Eretz Israel, you do not give Jewish refugees fair treatment…

Imagine if a chorus of boos launched out – not only after the the mention of the names of the Zionist leaders, but also a second chorus after the phrase “you do not give Jewish immigrants fair treatment”. This is helpful, I think, changing the context – because while anti-Zionists likely have no problem booing the very idea that Begin and Ben Gurion should have their motives taken seriously, so we can boo that, we shouldn’t be booing the very idea that we (“we” here would mean Britain) were mistreating Jewish refugees. That would be racist. I might disagree with Begin and Gurion’s views on unlimited jewish migration to Palestine in the mid 1940s, but I would never boo if someone were to raise the issue of the mistreatment of jewish refugees.

So, I think the American right, or whoever it was, is not just disagreeing with the Palestinian cause but genuinely being very racist if they are going to boo at the mere mention of the treatment of Palestinians.

Incidentally, if anyone is interested, the treatment of Palestinians was central to the motivation of Al Quaeda in planning the 9/11 attacks:

While I was looking at these destroyed towers in Lebanon, it sparked in my mind that the tyrant should be punished with the same and that we should destroy towers in America, so that it tastes what we taste and would be deterred from killing our children and women

God knows that it had not occurred to our mind to attack the towers, but after our patience ran out and we saw the injustice and inflexibility of the American-Israeli alliance toward our people in Palestine and Lebanon, this came to my mind

Ethics and the presumption of human contact (and the history of monotheism, and plight of humanity today)

There are really two ways you can begin to think about human relations, and based on which you pick there are real implications for the way you’ll conceive ethics in general as well as your own ethical situation in the world.

On the one hand, you could presume that you are an individual first, and everything you could know about the world and about other people could be wrong. Of course, this extends to – everything other people think they know about you could be wrong. So, anytime you presume anything about anyone – whether intellectually or on a more basic socio-affective level, you are potentially mis-characterizing someone – and if you base actions on those characterizations, you may well be doing harm. If you think about situations this way, you think the correct level of resolution for analysis is individual persons – so if people are having a conflict, the first thing to say is that each person is having a personal difficulty that has some external relation to the other person. And then, the actual relations between the two people are secondary.

On the other hand, you could think of ethics as being ways of coping with human connections which always and already exist between people. You could think that while each person might misunderstand the way they are relating with other people, and that misunderstanding could happen on various levels of knowing (i.e. not only intellectual but emotional as well), there is in fact relations and continuity between the people – and that this connection is not something to be added after considering each person in isolation. We can think of ourselves as inexorably bound up in our communities, our relationships, even our countries or nations – and recognize that the ways we are bound up in those continuities are not always a matter of rational choice, but can be presumed in our everyday manners of action, and even in our identities.

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