Tuesday, October 25, 2011

To Join the Human Race


Joshua Krueger #3042188
CRS/IDS 4910 – Conflict and the Construction of the Other
Richard McCutcheon; October 24, 2011

Think Piece #5: To Join the Human Race
Even if it is not identical to our internalized version, it is startling to catch a glimpse of the doxa: the unquestioned assumptions of our thoughts and theories. One is struck dumbfounded, yet also humbled, by the notion that J.A. Hobson’s major critique of Imperialism, even with its bravery, is not at all against the concept of inferior races,[1] or how both T. E. Lawrence and Louis Massignon – men described by Said as having “genuine empathy” – could not see another solution than dividing the Arab world between France and England, “for the Arabs.”[2] It is not at all surprising then that colonists and their books authoritatively declared natives as lazy, blind to the fact that these humans were defying their subjugation.[3] How can such beliefs, with their ties to power, be overcome?
Enter Yeats, a poet presented by Said as a conscious warrior on a cognitive battlefield. In the process of decolonization and the very real struggle for land, Yeats’ work is in direct contact with the doxa of the settlers and their assumptions to the land. In attempting to splinter it and remove the pressures of their beliefs from the mind of his own people, Yeats forms the narrative in which the land can begin to be recovered through the imagination.[4] In the same mode as Yeats is Fanon, who writes not only of the direct physical confrontation between settler and native, but of the doxa that links imperialism and orthodox nationalism.
With Edward Said’s guidance I agree that Fanon is more than an angry subaltern rousing the masses for violence, and needs to be read as pushing past the phase of national consciousness and “independence to the theoretical domain of liberation.”[5] I also agree that his final position is one that “bind[s] the European as well as the native together in a new non-adversarial community of awareness and anti-imperialism,”[6] but Edward Said does not seem to mention his opinion on the necessity of Fanon’s view of violence as “the synthesis that overcomes the reification of white man as subject, Black man as object.”[7] How can the movement towards liberation and mutual community continue without smashing this reification? If so, must we follow Fanon into battle against Empire in a “protracted political, cultural, and sometimes military struggle”?[8]
Though this is an interesting question, it is a question that is afforded to me by my comfortable place within the empire. Maybe the important aspect is not if there is physical violence or not, but that there needs to be a struggle. Either way I am intrigued to thinking holistically through the process of decolonization. As Yeats provides a first step of impetus by unchaining the imagination, is the next step liberating violence and national independence – both of which much be eventually overcome – that builds up a people to the point that they can begin the true process of liberation as equals with all races of the earth? Culture and Imperialism’s final chapter is an excellent critique of compartmentalized identity and the nationalized educations that build such identities, but are those identities not also a necessary step to prevent oneself from being subsumed by the culture of another nations?[9] If this is true and we ignore it, is there a risk of pushing nations into subordinate roles by demanding that they espouse nonviolence and temperance? Or are these identities problematic enough that we can call into question the very necessity of nation states? Either way, Edward Said’s work has shown me that I can no longer afford to be an infant and depend on the antagonistic identity that has been prepared for me, but that I must remove my fear and prejudice and join the human race.


[1] Edward Said, Culture and Imperialism (New York: Vintage Books, 1993), 241.
[2] Ibid, 263.
[3] Ibid, 254.
[4] Ibid, 225.
[5] Ibid, 268.
[6] Edward Said, Culture and Imperialism, 274.
[7] Ibid, 270.
[8] Ibid, 207.
[9] Japan’s cultural dependence on American despite its economic dominance is a good example presented on pages 329-30. 

Friday, October 21, 2011

Design or Destiny


Joshua Krueger #3042188
CRS/IDS 4910 – Conflict and the Construction of the Other
Richard McCutcheon; October 17, 2011

Think Piece #4: Design or Destiny
In my second Think Piece, Aimé Césaire allowed me to ask the question of where I had subsumed the invention of the barbaric negro. While I am hesitant to say that Edward Said has answered that question, his book Culture and Imperialism brings the ambiguity surrounding the question into a calm look of action and reaction. I do not wish to reduce Said’s work, but I understand his argument as showing the relationship of consequences that we take for granted in many other settings. Why do more baseball players come from the United States and hockey players come from Canada? It is not because Canadians are more genetically suited for hockey or because Americans are afraid of ice, but it might have something to do with the fact that American youth, through their upbringing in the US, are much more likely to know the career statistics of Babe Ruth than those of Wayne Gretzky. Furthermore, with the amount of money that can be made by a professional athlete, and a culture that equates money with value, there is an underwritten assumption that becoming a baseball player is a much higher calling than being an office worker. This is the same logic that imperialist culture whispered to their young men and women: being a soldier or a colonial adventurer is a more honourable position than being a farmer.
                This relationship of mutual support, once it has been pointed out, is so straightforward and common to me that I wonder about the black hole that this knowledge has been kept in. In this sense Said’s work is tearing the veil and bringing down the structures that have conditioned my mind to believe in certain categories of specialness and limitation; categories that are pooled up like beads of sweat from the twisting marathon of economics and politics.
The point that still confuses me though, is how such a relationship began. I understand that once the system of imperialism and a basic level of cultural justification existed, both would naturally support each other, but I do not understand how this came to be. Did they both spring up together, or was there some agency by Western powers to adjust culture to their economic interests? On the other hand, Said quotes William Blake’s words: “Empire follows Art and not vice versa as Englishmen suppose”[1]; does that mean that English artists designed the systems of imperialism and colonialism?
The part of Said’s argument that is so compelling to me is the fact that it coheres to the theory that all people justify evil because they think they are serving a higher good. In the case of empire, Said calls this, through the help of Conrad, the “self-confirming ideological motor.”[2] While I do think that humans would intentionally repair and refuel the machine[3] – because their entire identity in contained within the context of the machine – I doubt that there is one person or group that is evil (and powerful) enough to intentionally build that motor outside or before the power of its rationalizing context. Does that mean that there was another force, an inherent and inevitable evil within the West or within all of humanity that leads to such relationships of domination?
In another part, Said states that this relationship of culture and identity is present in all modern cultures, even suggesting that special experiences are “historically created and the result of interpretation.”[4] If all modern cultures use categories to include and exclude, what happens when we attempt to remove ourselves from the dominant categories our cultures provide for us? Is there a way to remove ourselves from the dehumanizing or limiting categories of our culture while still retaining useful frames of reference and a place to belong? Edward Said is very aware of the way that western culture marginalizes him and his experiences, but this position also seems to free him to criticize Western culture without the risk of losing his cultural support or immediate community. Can I reject certain categories and still relate to those who accept them? If I do need to remove myself more fully, to which group or culture can I belong? Is there the possibility of culture without such categories?


[1] Edward W. Said, Culture and Imperialism (New York: Vintage Books, 1993), 13.
[2] Ibid, 60.
[3] One example presented by Said is Bernard Lewis defending the “Western Cannon” on page 37.
[4] Edward W. Said, Culture and Imperialism (New York: Vintage Books, 1993), 32.

Thursday, October 6, 2011

Safe with the Other?


Joshua Krueger #3042188
CRS/IDS 4910 – Conflict and the Construction of the Other
Richard McCutcheon; October 3, 2011

Think Piece #3: Safe with the Other?
A simple view of Said’s critique of Orientalism and its synthesising power can be shown within his metaphor of a fierce tiger.[1] The metaphor shows how expectations can create reality about the object in our gaze, actually causing the object to become what we ‘know’ about it. It is what it is because it is, and it always will be. Not only does the metaphor dig out the years of Orientalist evidence, but it also leads itself towards one of the significant debates about how to deal with, or at least prepare for, the Other.
The debate around military might is often given in a framework where there is a major assumption about the Other. The assumption is a worldview that sees danger out in the world, born out of illegitimate reasons, that seeks to destroy the good. Military budgets then can be justified on the kneejerk reactions of safety and protection of the innocent. While there is no doubt that there is danger in the world, does the action of preparing and readying oneself for war make safety more or less likely? In Said’s example, he did not state that tigers were not fierce, but he did imply that they can be other than fierce. A tiger can kill a human being quite easily, but it has little reason to do so unless it is provoked or handled in a way that will actually “increase its fierceness.”[2] One could imagine an explorer who traps every spottable tiger to protect himself and the innocents, only having his suspicions confirmed when one breaks loose and attacks him. Would that explorer not be justified in killing baby tigers to prevent them from growing up to become blood thirsty terrors? Could it occur to the explorer that he could leave the tigers alone?
Is that what is happening in our world? I hear about these people, these Others, who want to destroy us and our way of life. While I am sure that these people have the natural ability to be dangerous – they have actually proved that they can be – is our ways of dealing with them making the world a more dangerous place? If yes, then do we need to give up our fascination with the darkness and embrace a ‘naive’ assumption that all human beings are good and peaceful? If we are wrong, will we die because of it?
                Either way, we are not the ones dying right now. The ones who have died and are dying – to confirm our suspicions about them – are the ones who are still human enough to consider that imperialism was a created inevitability of capitalism; that it was “a necessity like those today of the national liberation of people, the destruction of capital and the advent of socialism.”[3] This formulaic statement, welcome to the conscience of the West, pushes the fact that it was historically inevitable that two significant but diverse cultures were going to collide. While the statement does not place value on imperialism, it does bring up interesting questions about capitalism: Was it necessary? How did that system contributed to the caging up of the other? More importantly, does the formula of injury and repair apply to the damage that has been done by Orientalism? As inevitable as national liberation is to imperialism, is there an equally inevitable push for the natives to recontextualize the Other who has Othered them? Unlike the geographically lines of a country, what are the bounds that signify the shift from intellectual liberation to retaliatory attack?
The fundamental question as both Said and Clifford have highlighted is “how does one represent other cultures?”[4] In the effort to avoid “quick recourses to alternative totalities,”[5] they give us no distinct answer but their unique relationship is more informative than their contemplation. One man is part of a historically dispossessed and marginalized group while the other one enjoys the full range of social and economic support, yet they are able to engage and challenge each other without self-pity or rage.


[1] Edward Said, Orientialism (New York: Vintage Books, 1978), 93-4.
[2] Ibid, 94.
[3] Amilcar Cabral, “The Weapon of Theory.” Revoluation in Buinea: Selected Texts By Amilcar Cabral (New York: Monthly Review Press, 1970), 99.
[4] James Clifford, “On Orientalism.” The Predicament of Culture: Twentieth-Century Ethnography, Literature and Art (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1988), 274.
[5] Ibid.