The Cycles of Life--Birth and Death, Loss and Glory, Destruction and Triumph

"Demian" by Hermann Hesse is a short, engaging, and highly enjoyable text with well defined and developed characters that make the book very easy to read; little mental effort is required to follow Hesse's clear and precise prose. The book revolves around the experiences of a young man growing up in early 20th century France, and traces in minute and penetrating detail the painful transition from adolescence to adulthood that most of us experience.

Growing up is rarely a smooth and linear process. It usually entails ruptures, dramatic breaks and breakthroughs, and experiences of pain that lead to emotional and mental maturity. As this happens, a personality is shaped that colors, enriches, or impoverishes future experiences. Often, it is relationships with specific people that have these effects. Our first crush, or romantic experience, or that deep feeling of connection and belongingness from our childhood friends often alter us for good, and for the better if the inevitable disappointments are dealt with constructively. For Sinclair, the first major turning point is his attempt to impress the bully Kromer. The latter exudes brute physical force and a contempt for civilized norms of conduct, and as so often happens in these kinds of situations, the relatively weaker Sinclair wants to impress him. He does this by concocting a story about a theft that never took place. Kromer uses this to extort Sinclair and, in the process, teaches him important lessons: that evil exists, acquiescing to it only makes it stronger, and that dishonesty can lead to unpleasant and degrading consequences, in this case, being subject to the arbitrary will of someone much physically stronger.

Demien, perhaps the most significant person to enter Sinclair's life, represents a Jesus-like figure who comes to save him from the depredations of Kromer. The text is not clear on how he does this; one assumes that he either cast a spell, or threatened Kromer's life (my impression is that it was the latter). Demien's greatest impact on Sinclair is philosophical and spiritual. The latter's socialization was Catholic, a worldview with a clear division between good and evil, a cosmology that gives order and meaning to the universe, a teology that gives the flow of history a clear chronological narrative: man's pride leads him to sin against God, he is redeemed by Christ, and will enter heaven if he is good in this life, a life full of temptations and seductions. Demien's philosophical framework does not completely reject the Christian worldview. Rather, he complements it by introducing the Eastern philosophical embrace of contradiction: rather than reject evil, Demien accepts it as an intrinsic and inevitable element in the structure of life and the universe. In that sense, he seeks a new spirituality in the form of a new god, Abraxas, which is both good and evil and which, like the gods of yore, must be sought, worshiped, and loved. Needless to say, this worldview was, in early 20th century France, quite heterodox. 

Another dominant theme is the necessity to go against the grain, to challenge dominant norms, to be the black sheep, to not follow the herd. But for Demien, one cannot choose to do this; rather, one is chosen by some quasi-mystical force to carry out this mission. But how does one know if they have this status? Only by peeling away the crusty layers of rules and desires that are imposed by the dominant culture. Once this is done, the "true self" emerges to enlighten and guide towards the mission that one has been chosen for. Practitioners and devotees of New Agism and other fadish forms of spirituality will find much to admire here; it affirms their belief in the existence of some spiritual force in the universe (like "energy" or "vibes") that somehow unites with our deepest selves to provide direction and enlightenment, as opposed to the ostensibly corrupt and polluted influences of the human-constructed order.

Although both Demien and Sinclair are presented as agents actively aiming to discover and actualize their true selves by uniting with Abraxas, much of the subtext is focused on how little we actually control our fate. Sinclair discovers, through dialogue and interpretations of his dreams, that he is special in the sense that he has been chosen with some specific mission to alter the course of civilization. The meta-narrative is that he was lost in the oppressive society in which he grows up, and is subsequently redeemed through the discovery of the truth. This will sound familiar to students of the three monotheism's, especially Christianity. But it is also a metaphor for Europe at the time that the "Demien" was being written. The previous decades (late 19th century) saw huge advances in technology and global trade, as well as the secularization of Europe's elites. But below the surface there were dark forces festering: the anomie and ennui that resulted from the loss of meaning provided by organized religion, the rise of nationalism, the popularity of social darwinism, and the colonial aggrandizement of Europe's powers, all of which reached a crescendo with the outbreak of World War 1. These forces were created by human agents and yet seemed outside of human control; it is as if one way or another the conflagration would have happened regardless of efforts to stop it. But of course, this devastation set the framework for a new world order that would emerge, such as the rise of the US as global policeman, a system of global governance to regulate inter-state behaviour, and eventually, self-determination as a cardinal principle of international politics. Out with the old, in with the new, death and birth, destruction and triumph: these are the eternal truths that are revealed in "Demian", as they become manifest at the levels of both the individual and broader social aggregates.

Democracy and the Arab Spring--the Case of Jordan

It has been over three years since protesters in the Middle East enraptured the world with their largely peaceful attempts to bring down the dictators that ruled their countries. So far, the event that  we now call the Arab Spring (or Winter, depending on ones's point of view) cannot be called a success. Only Tunisia has made significant progress: Islamists there have agreed to a constitution that entrenches secularism and that protects the rights of women and minorities. The coalition government that helped to forge the agreement collapsed and now the country is ruled by technocrats who are in the process of organizing a referendum on the new constitution, and, if that goes smoothly, elections will take place shortly after. Not exactly a consolidated democracy, but going in the right direction (although the economy of the country is a mess; that is another story). The other countries impacted by the protests for democracy are either in a state of war (Syria) ungovernable because of weak central authority (Libya), or have reverted to the authoritarian structures which existed previously (Egypt, Yemen) or have been able to co-opt, with a mix of sticks and carrots, those trying to promote change (Saudi Arabia, Jordan).

My views from the beginning of the Arab Spring have been tempered by my understanding of democracy as a system that cannot be reduced to majority rule; rather, true democracy entails equality for minorities and women. This condition is especially crucial in many Middle Eastern countries with sizable minorities of Christians, secularists, Kurds, Druze, Shiites, and others, and with traditional tribal and religious structures that have not been conducive to equality between the sexes.

One of the purposes of my current travels in the Middle East was to ask locals about their views on democracy and equality. In particular, I was interested in the views of minorities in the region. Luck would have it that my tour guide in Jordan was an educated and articulate Jordanian Arab Christian who spoke fluent English. I spent hours talking to him privately about his life, his views on Jordan and the politics in the region, and in the process learned many valuable things which I will try to summarize.

The first thing that was clear was that he adores the ruling Hashemite family, especially the reigning monarch, King Abdullah. This is not unique to him; while travelling around Jordan one notes that images of the king are everywhere. An informed person I met in Israel told me that that is hardly voluntary; similar to other authoritarian countries where pictures of the ruler are plastered everywhere, in Jordan the security forces can subtly ensure that everyone toes the line (as in giving a nudge nudge, wink wink signal to anyone who refuses to). I cannot confirm this; but what I can say is that my Jordanian Arab Christian friend seemed completely sincere in his veneration of the king (and my bullshit detector is pretty good). He recounted to me how the king has been central in promoting peace and stability in the country, no small feat given that Jordan is composed of rival tribes and sects.

I then asked him whether he wants democracy in Jordan. "NO"!!! he emphatically told me, "if there was democracy in the country there would be a civil war because the rival tribes would not be able to peacefully settle their differences". He also told me that, as a minority in the country (five percent of Jordanians are Christian), he needs the protection of the king. He proceeded to tell me several examples of king Abdullah directly intervening to assist and protect the beleaguered Christians. In light of the fate of minorities elsewhere in the region, it is hard to doubt his sincerity. The clearest example of this is Iraq: since the majority Shiites have taken power through the ballot box, the minority Sunni's have been excluded and persecuted, and Iraq's ancient Christian community has been decimated, with some estimates indicating that almost three quarters have fled the country.

In light of the above, it is unsurprising that in the Syrian civil war, he supports Assad against the rebels.If the rebels came to power, he said, they would destroy the country and utterly oppress or devastate the myriad minorities in the region.

What to make of this? There are many possible interpretations. One is that others in Jordan likely would have a less rosy view of the ruling Hashemites and would actually prefer a move towards democracy. This might be the case, especially from those who are excluded from the system, and there are probably many: travelling across Jordan, one sees much poverty and underdevelopment (as well as the trappings of a modern, sleek, and forward looking society). But it would be mistaken to assume that the views of my interlocutor belong only to him; rather, to some extent they reflect his status as a member of a minority in a region that does not have encouraging track record of respecting the rights of  those not in the majority, especially in the last 15 years. Therefore, his views deserve to be taken seriously.

Trade does not necessarily lead to peace

From the ancient times to the present, thinkers have tried to understand war and the question of whether humans can somehow transcend their seemingly interminable propensity for territorial aggrandizement, violence, and lust for power. Realists, from Thucydides forward have generally had a pessimistic view, arguing that these tendencies flow from intrinsic and unchangeable features of human nature and/or organization. The best we can do, according to realists, it to try to preserve some stable balance of power that instills fear, because fear, it is believed, generates cautiousness and makes men less willing to use organized violence as a tool of politics.

Liberals tend to disagree, arguing that human nature and political organization are more malleable and that, with the right mix of good intentions and effective institutions, man can escape his tendency towards war and live in peace. Liberals generally have three prescriptions for promoting international peace: better global governance institutions, more democracy, and free trade. I have always been skeptical of the sunny optimism of these ideas, and my current travels in the Middle East have only reinforced that impression. In the eight days that I have been here, I have traveled to, and spoken to people in, Israel, Palestine, and Jordan. Despite increased trade between these different peoples, hostility remains high and shows no substantive signs of abatement.

For the past few days, for example, I have been in Jordan and have spoken to many Arabs in the country. Most of the views towards Israel I heard were negative, ranging from mild antipathy to outright hostility. The border crossing between the two countries, similarly, does not show any signs of the fact that trade has increased dramatically between them. We were held up at the border for more than two hours, and had to present our passports several times. When I arrived in Jordan, one Arab Christian from the country told me that he has never visited Israel despite living just across the border. To my question of why, he responded that it is too difficult.

75% of Palestinian trade goes to Israel and despite this the Palestinian border crossings give the sensation that you are encountering a line that divides peoples who are in a state of war. They are divided by big, ugly, and grey security walls with barbed wire. When arriving at the checkpoint, Israeli soldiers holding automatic rifles with their fingers on the trigger (literally), some just teenagers, board the bus and ask everyone for their passports. The whole process takes a long time and consequently there are huge line-ups of cars, buses, and trucks that force one to wait over an hour. One friendly and sunny teacher from California who lives and works in Palestine told me that some of his students have to go through these crossings twice everyday. These crossings may prevent the smuggling of weapons but they also increase animosity, which only exacerbates the already existing hostility in the region.

It is hard to see how more trade can ameliorate this situation. Interestingly, one Israeli businessman who I spoke to who has business partnerships with Palestinians told me that he thinks the conflict will never be solved. It is not hard to see why. The conflict is ultimately about irreconcilable claims to sacred pieces of land, to different religious narratives that are largely not compatible. In light of that, the only thing that will really solve the conflict is the transformation of these narratives, and there is little evidence that that is happening, and the notion that more trade will somehow promote those necessary changes relies on a degree of faith for the things unseen that, ironically, would not seem out of place here in the Holy Land.

Of course, it is not only the Middle East that suggests that there is a tenuous, or absent, link between trade and peace. The increase in trade between China and its neighbors has manifestly not led to more peaceful relations between them. China is now the largest trading partner of Australia, Japan, Vietnam, Taiwan, Philippines, and others in the region. And how are they reacting? By increasing their military expenditure and allying themselves with China's great geopolitical rival, the US, the country they rely on to protect their sovereignty from Chinese encroachments on their (disputed) territories.

Although the evidence does not support the liberal faith in the salvific effects of trade, liberals do provide something valuable: by adding a dose of optimism to a dreary international system, they provide hope that a better world is possible, even if there is little evidence to support that.

Female Muslim modesty

One of the notable things I have observed these past few days, especially walking around the Arab parts of Jerusalem, is the distinctive attire of many devout female Muslims. Most wear the Hijab, which covers all their hair, and the Abaya, a full-length outfit that covers the entire body, including the ankles. The purpose, supposedly, of this dress code is sexual modesty.

But this seems to be in tension with the fact that many of the women who wear these outfits are very attractive precisely because of the way that the above garments accentuate their beautiful features. The Hijab not only covers the hair; it also illuminates the features of the face that are common in this part of the world. The almond shaped eyes, the long and thick eyebrows and eyelashes, the sharp cheekbones and large lips, and the cosmetics that adorn these features, all seem to be enhanced by the Hijab. One reason may be that human hair is such a distinctive element of our appearance; when meeting a person, the quality or style or lack of hair is one of the first things that we notice. By covering their hair, they re-direct attention to the features mentioned above . It is often also the colour and quality of the head covering that enhances their beauty. I have seen Hijabs that are vibrant red or with intricately embroidered patterns that perfectly complement the face, the cosmetics, and the other garments.

Then there is Abaya, which, especially among the young ladies, is form-fitting and hence leaves little to the imagination. They also come in vibrant colours and dynamic patterns; most of the time, they have a silky smooth texture. It would be an exaggeration to say that they are skin tight, but still, they are tight enough to clearly identify the often curvaceous and voluptuous figures beneath.

Another interesting mode of dress is seen on the many Arab women who seem to mix Western and Muslim dress: they wear the Hijab while simultaneously wearing skin tight jeans, high heals, coquettish amounts of make-up, and tight shirts that reveal their bosoms. Here, it is hard to argue that the Hijab is worn for reasons of modesty. After all, the rest of what they are wearing would not look out of place on the streets of any Western city where women can dress pretty much as they please (to the consternation of traditionalists everywhere). Rather, for females in this category it seems as if the Hijab is worn as a symbol of cultural identity, as a way to differentiate themselves from the completely secularized (i.e. Westernized) and the completely devout. Or maybe there is little thought that influences the decision; the choice to wear a Hijab with the Western attire that many traditionalists would deem to be flagrantly provocative and immodest may simply be a matter of habit, or of mood, or a result of the cultural synthesis that globalization has promoted around the world, mixing local with Western modes of expression in everything from language (i.e. English seems to have penetrated every spoken tongue) to music (gangsta rap now has its local variants all over the world) to dress (tight jeans and tops that completely reveal the shape of the physical form).

Or maybe I am wrong?

Mediterranean peoples

It is amazing how travelling can demolish the stereotypes that filter our perceptions of the world. Before coming to Israel and Palestine, I believed that groups in this region could be easily distinguished on the basis of recognizable traits. This is only partly true. The distinctions, I have discovered, are mostly cultural. Stripped of their particularistic attire and other cultural symbols, most of the people here actually resemble each other and other peoples in the Mediterranean region. I have traveled extensively in Southern Italy and visited Greece and Spain. I also have many Portuguese friends who I grew up with. This life history has given me a sense of the shared traits that people from the Mediterranean posses.

The shared cultural traits were made clear when I tried to get on a bus to Ramallah in the West Bank this afternoon. Being of Southern Italian origin prepared me for the absence of queuing as a cultural norm, and for the consequent Darwinian struggle to get on the bus. Worshipers had just left the Mosque in old Jerusalem, and the station was packed. As I pushed and shoved to try to get on, old Arab ladies, youngsters with gelled hair and fake diamond earings, and middle aged men dressed like Salafists also pushed and shoved, and yet it could hardly be described as aggressive. It was done with smiles and friendly chatter. When the bus driver announced that the bus was full, people yelled at him, some clearly frustrated, but most with an air of resignation. In Salerno, where my family is from, this event would not have been out of place.

Another shared trait is the style of communication. It is very expressive and theatrical. Walking down the street in Arab or Jewish Jerusalem, one encounters loud, boisterous and rambunctious conversations that, in other contexts, might be interpreted as either rude or angry in tone. Open displays of affection between men are also ubiquitous, which is ironic since the traditional cultures of the Mediterranean peoples tend to be more homophobic than the progressive attitudes of peoples elsewhere.

Lastly, the style of driving is similar to what I am familiar with in Southern Italy. It is a style that, shall we say, interprets the rules of the road liberally. It does not mean that it is anarchic or dangerous. It just means that there are a different sets of rules that are followed. These rules are informal in character, and as long as one recognizes and adapts to them, one can navigate the roads safely. For example, people on motorcycles often drive between cars, an act which would incur a hefty fine in North America. As long as one is cognizant of this practice, one will adapt.

The shared physical traits are many as well. I have been in Jerusalem for 4 days, and have been mistaken for being both Israeli and Arab. Why? A few reasons come to mind. First, I have dark olive skin and very dark hair. I also have very thick eyebrows and eyelashes (a trait I get from my mom's side). Of course, not all Mediterranean peoples have these physical traits. In fact folks here are very diverse; both Arabs and Israeli's seem display traits from a wide spectrum, from light haired and light skinned al la Sweden to the dark skin and hair that one sees in North Africa and the Arabian peninsula. What is more, these differences often exist in the same family. In my own family, my youngest brother has very light hair and skin, whereas my features are dark.

These shared cultural and physical traits are the result, of course, of the inter-civilizational mixing that has taken place in the Mediterranean region for thousands of years: Romans, Greeks, Persians, Arabs, and many others have conquered this region and left their mark. Jerusalem is the epicenter of this millennium long, inter-civilizational struggle, which explains why, stripped of their culturally specific attire, most people here actually look and behave similarly. The irony is that they are deeply divided. In fact there is a lot of hostility here, especially between the Israeli's and Arabs. More on that in a future post