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Monday, April 14, 2003 |
Westblog
Where is the West?
Some thoughts...
Josh Micah Marshall, a public intellectual who I normally like a lot, has
had two short posts recently that I have found interesting, both noting how
odd it is that Iraqis belonging to the Ba'ath Party should own "Western"
items like Britney Spears
posters or receive email from a Yahoo! account.
Marshall writes:
I've always been fascinated by the mix of alienness and similarity
one finds in the leaders of countries like Iraq -- really across what we
used to call the Third World. Some of this is just the story of globalization
-- leaders and elites on the hand in death struggles with the global 'center'
and on the other very much a part of it, invested in its culture, its modes
of communication, its idioms. One sees examples of it in all the stories
of raided palaces and homes of Saddam's top lieutenants. (So now we know
that Tariq Aziz sometimes barked on TV about how the Iraqis would bury us
in the sands of southern Iraq and then went back to his pad and popped Sleepless
in Seattle into the VCR.) On the one hand, Uday Hussein was a hideously
violent thug, born and bred into Saddam's Ba'athist police state, steeped
in a virulent strain of Arab nationalism. On the other hand, he was using
a free Yahoo! email account.
I write "Western" in quotes above because I am fascinated by this concept
and its seeming fluidity. As someone who studies the interconnectedness
of the "First" and "Third" Worlds throughout history, who looks at how each
exists not independent of, but in relation to the other, I'm just not that
surprised that Tariq Aziz should enjoy Norah Ephron schlock or that Uday
Hussein might know how to websurf. I am an academic trained in the
interdisciplinary fields of colonial and postcolonial studies, a field of
inquiry that followed in the footstepts of anticolonial thinkers like Aime Césaire and
Frantz Fanon, who in Wretched of the Earth declared that "Europe
is literally the creation of the Third World."
Marshal writes that "Some of this is just the story of globalization," but
to students of colonialism this story begins well before the advent of Nike
sweat shops and MTV Internacional. An example: we hear
much today about liberation and freedom, and, despite the newfound fondness
for Freedom Fries in the United States, these are concepts defined politically
in the modern era by the French Revolution's cries of Liberté,
Egalité, et Fraternité. But even this most
European of events covered in a typical modern European history survey course
was also a profoundly colonial event. The wealth of the maritime
bourgeoise that became politically emboldened in the 18th century was not
all created, after all, in the metropole. The sugar that sweetened
the cakes that Marie Antoinette famously suggested her subjects eat was produced
not in Paris, but in the sugarcane fields of France's (and the world's) wealthiest
colony, Haiti. Many (though not all) of those demanding liberté
in the metropole were shocked, shocked that the slaves in that sugar-producing
colony might demand the same for themselves. The Haitian and French
Revolutions were not discrete events -- they are both a part of one story,
a story of world history that those who insist on speaking of strict barriers
between the West and the Rest simply ignore.
These are interesting times for people who study colonialism and the postcolonial
world. The field of colonial studies developed in the 1980s and 90s
in universities in both "First" and "Third" Worlds. During that same
time, as Edward Said
notes, a revision of the Age of Empire emerged in the public sphere that
sought to redefine the Age of Empire not as an age of dispossession or violence
that Fanon criticized but rather as an age of ideals, of the promise of bringing
Liberal progress to areas of the world not yet blessed with them. These days
that revision seems almost complete, with people like Stanley Kurtz, who
in an article in the influential Hoover Institution publication Policy
Review, seeks to find salutary lessons from the "Democratic Imperialism"
he says was practiced by India in the 19th Century. The fact that the
British stayed long and "taught" the Indians Liberal values, Kurtz suggests,
is the reason India today is the rare functioning Third World Democracy.
(It seemed only recently that another conservative thinker who gets
a lot of airtime these days, Fouad Ajami, suggested that perhaps the British
hadn't stayed long
enough.) At Emphasis Added,
blogger Rob Salkowitz seems to see U.S. adventures in the Philippines, which
after 1898 led to a bloody insurrection that cost about 200,000 Filipino
lives, as a possible good example to follow because the archipelago
today is, relative to its neighbors, "prosperous." (I'll say more on
this later in the week as I have to prepare a lecture for my class on Thursday
about the Philippine insurrection)
Suddenly empire is en vogue again -- whereas the U.S. built an empire in
the twentieth century all the while denying that its actions were imperial,
now people like Kurtz seek examples from the past to apply today in our world
of pre-emptive strikes and Iraqi Liberation. Like the turn of the century
U.S., when "Our New Possessions" books talked about the need to learn from
other empires (see previous post),
today we have people scrambling for past examples of imperialism where the
lessons are good, with "good" defined by how well the postcolonial country
is doing today.
This sudden re-thinking of empire as not all that bad has a lot to do with
how little impact the dialectical interpretation of colonial and metropolitan
histories has had on present discussions of the role of the United States
in the world. You'll get Kurtz and Ajami, but you're not likely to
see the likes of Edward Said on MSNBC.The writings of someone like Bernard
Lewis, who insists on a binary opposition between Islam and the "West," are
far more appealing than the work of scholars who suggest that a more appropriate
way of thinking of these histories is as linked, informing one another. If
we see the modern era not as the progress of independent civilizations but
rather as interacting with each other, creating each other, than we might
not be as surprised to find out that Uday Hussein or, for that matter, Osama
bin Laden's followers, might be adept at using the technology of the so-called
"West."
The Edward Said piece linked to above is an extended review of Cathryn Hall's
new study, Civilising Subjects: Metropole and Colony in the English
Imagination 1830-67, a brilliant study in British history that charts the history of the metropole
and its colonies not as independent of one another but as always mutually
informing.I wish people like Catherine Hall would serve, alongside Lewis
and Kurtz and the rest, as commentators today (in all honesty, I wish the
would substitute for the likes of Bernard Lewis, but I'll settle for at least
having them be a part of the dialogue). We need to re-think world history
if we are to truly understand how an invading force might be seen as both
"liberatory" and "colonial" (no colonial power, after all, invaded under
the mantle of Oppression -- they all claimed to be doing something good and,
since the nineteenth century, something Liberal).
We might do well to re-think the history of the world as divided between
the "West" and everything else. It leads to dangerous arguments of
absolute cultural differences, differences so essential that they can be
resolved not through diplomacy or, for that matter, trade, but only through
aggession.
Where, after all, is the West?
I do this exercise with my classes a lot -- I have students write for five
minutes, completing a paragraph beginning with the sentence: "The West is..."
When they're done writing, I catalog people's responses on the board.
Sometimes people list countries, other times concepts such as modernity.
Sometimes the list includes technologies or progress, while lefty students
might equate the West with oppression. Everyone agrees that the West
exists however -- when we list the countries, however, we start running into
problems. Is Japan a part of the West, I've asked. "It is now"
I've been answered -- it's a G-7 country. Is Argentina a part of the
West? "It was before its problems with the IMF," I've been told. Is
the Haitian Revolution an event in "Western" history? If not, why not?
For people not from the traditionally defined "West," being "authentic" is
not often an existential concern -- Frantz Fanon and Aimé Césaire
were both born in Martinique, an island in the Caribbean that has always
been at the crossroads of the project of the West and its modernity. Today
Martinique is a highly technological, highly consumerist departement of the
French nation-state. I have a feeling that people there might not be
as surprised that someone not "Western" might both harbor resentment towards
the U.S. (or any other imperial master) while also enjoying the occasional
lighthearted Hollywood romantic comedy.
10:30:27 PM
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