On Gaza

I have been plagued with a strange guilt for having been unable, for the last three weeks to write about the horrifying conflict in Gaza. I, a student of political science, must have something to say? But it feels as though no-one with the ability to make a difference is even listening. Only the fringe voices appear to be speaking out: Moon, Kucinich, etc.  I then reminded myself, difficult though it maybe, silence equals consent. If I don't write about this, about my interpretations, and my feelings on the conflict, then I am letting these events happen in my name. In short, I become complicit and responsible for the atrocities.

I sat in the cafe today, reading, and trying to think of a hook. How to get at the heart of this conflict? I began to wonder how I would, were he old enough, explain this to my nephew. I imagined myself writing this beautiful child a letter, trying to explain why we do the things we do to each other. Explain, not as an excuse or apology, in a way his innocence would understand, and not be devastated. A tall order, to be sure.

I might begin this letter by arguing that each earthling on this planet is unique and beautiful, and fundamentally we defy classification, stereotype and logic. We are, non of us, born with anger in our minds, nor are we born racists, sexists or facists. To paraphrase Rousseau, we are born free of all this, it is not 'till later that we put on those chains. The point being, all of the physical and mental borders that exist between earthlings are pure constructions. They are not natural, nor are they necessary for our survival. We are, in a manner of speaking, free to cross them anytime, we just have to be able to see the other side for what it is, simply another way of doing things.

But the inquisitive mind might ask, then why do they exist, these borders and prejudices? This is the difficult part to answer, and as a caveat, I remind you that I am also someone subject to these tendencies and constructions, thus my answer, sure to be incorrect in someone's mind, is but my experience, tainted by my own ideological lens. I believe the answer to this question lies in our notion of power and to some degree, our belief in religious dogma and nationalism. Power, to give woefully short definition, is the ability to impose yourself on someone else without the use of physical coercion (the point in which weapons are introduced, power becomes terror and violence). An individual or an idea is only powerful so long as you go along with them or it. There is nothing inherent about power, and it can be taken away at any moment. Our problem has been, historically, that we value power as an attribute in Men (I chose to add gender here fully aware of what it implies), not as something to be fearful of. We do not recognize the fact that in consenting to an individuals power, we are in fact giving up our own power to that person. We are saying, "I am willing to let you control my fate and make my decisions for me".

This is our choice to make, and we do not have to make it that way. We can say no any time, though it is the more, much more, difficult choice, and often leads to extreme forms of violence. As I mentioned above, the moment power employs weapons to ensure its hegemony, it is corrupted and becomes violence. Unfortunately, when power is threatened, the response tends to be a violent one. When people stand up and say no! power is threatened. In some sense, this is precisely what happened in 2006 when the people of Gaza rejected Fatah and elected Hamas. They were not voting for terrorism, not for the destruction of the Israeli state, but they were simply saying no to a corrupt government that was failing them. Of course, by voting for Hamas, they unfortunately simply shifted the power from one side to the other, rather than reclaiming it for themselves. Tragically Hamas has also exploited this position to further its own goals, rather than really serve the voters.

The question of religious dogma and nationalism is really just an extension of the ideas I suggested above. Religion and national identity give people a sense of belonging to something, but the consent of the people means Religion and Nationalism have power. In demanding allegiance they create the physical and mental borders that lie at the root of conflict. They create unity in opposition to difference. This means we define ourselves by what we are not: I am American because I am not Palestinian, French, Canadian or Russian, etc... Furthermore, to consent to this position of being American (for example) we simultaneously reject all other possible identities. Rejection is then a suggestion that these other experiences are some how less relevant, less good. Thus we are willing to go to war, to crush those who are different. In short, the power of religious and national identity is in its ability to convince us of its importance, superiority, territorial claim and power. We are meant to believe that we are not safe without such subscriptions: the unfaithful end up in hell, or as Canadian citizens!

So, to my dear nephew I would say, there is war in the Levant because both Israel and Hamas are afraid of losing their power, they are afraid of each other, and the way they can convince themselves to remain loyal, to their respective ideologies, is to directly confront the other, to prove that they are superior, and in the event of a defeat, they can play the victim card. I don't support Hamas, but I don't support Israel either. I support peace. I think war is unnatural and always unnecessary. The people of the Levant should do the same. They should reclaim their individual power, and realize, in doing so, they can co-exist. They are simply kept apart by artificial notions of power, faith and national identity. There is a choice, there is always a choice.

For the fact that there is always a choice, the situation is all the more tragic.

Narcissism Day

As I was trying to understand the orthodox holidays coming up in Serbia, a friend and I came up with the idea that I should convert to orthodox so that I can take advantage of these days. The 6th of January is Christmas Eve, and the 7th is the New Year, then the Orthodox also get their Slava, or Patron Saint day (which is another non-work day). So, the thinking was, I could convert to Orthodox today, and then I would get most of this coming week off, plus a Slava at some point. Then next December I could convert to being a catholic and take their Christmas dates off, then in January... you see the pattern.

But then I thought, what days off does an Atheist get? Being one myself (unless you count Daoism as a religion), of course I get all the christian holidays, because everyone in the west gets those. But is that really appropriate? What if I want to work those days? I mean, I should not be forced to participate in a religious festival that I do not believe in. Of course, there is the argument that Christmas is much more commercial now, and has become a tradition somewhat disconnected from its religious origin. Well, I agree that it is much more commercial now, but I think that religion is still very much entwined into it. For example, I know many people who only attend Church on Christmas and Easter; there are all the religious icons on the Christmas tree; in secular Germany, most people still put up a model of the manger in which Christ was born.

So, what is an atheist to do? We conceived that the atheist should get two days (at Christmas and at Easter) for self-worship. Call them Narcissism Days, and fill them with many unhealthy, carnal activities. In this way, much like the Christian/Orthodox holidays, they would still reflect our Pagan heritage; they would achieve the same function of getting us to channel this desire for chaos and sin into a few days each year; they would add to the diversity of human experience... and the spread of disease!

Well, on a more serious note, it does beg the question of how a culture, or religious community respects the alternative or minority religions and faiths. Certainly, no-one minds a day off, so I don't mean to suggest that the office shouldn't close on religious days, but maybe, if it is closing for one, then it should close for all? The alternative is that you allow people to chose whether they want to work or not. This, to some degree, is the practice at my place of employment: most of the Serbs were working over the Western Christmas (24th and 25th), but will off on the 6th and 7th. But my employer is also in an interesting position of being a non-Serbian organization, with a mix of people working for it. But I wonder if orthodox people in Germany can work the 24th and 25th of December and then take the 6th and 7th off (without using personal days)?

I do believe that this is starting to become the practice in a few businesses (I have heard as much from American businesses who employ Muslims), which is a good thing. Anyway, something to ponder I suppose.

Fruska Gora

Traveling with a couple friends last weekend, we stopped off at an Orthodox Monastery in Fruska Gora, not far from Novi Sad. The place was beautifully maintained with nice mosaics in the outer walls of the place. The church itself resembled an Austrian Catholic design in the yellow color and shape of its steeple. Subsequent conversations with a few of the other guests revealed that it was indeed of Austrian design, built during the Austro-Hungarian control of Vojvodina.

Behind the Monastery was a small path leading into the hills. We climbed for about 45 minuets, passing through fruit orchards, clusters of various types of trees, herds of sheep, and moments of total silence. It was thoroughly relaxing and pleasant.

Returning from the hills, we entered the Monastery, which was, as expected, calm and well kept. I find the Orthodox churches interesting for their lack of space to sit. It strikes me every time I enter one, and recently I asked a friend about it. She said that people just stand during the sermons. Men on the right, women on the left, the sermons don't last too long (up to about 45 minuets) making it manageable. Also, there is not the attendance ritual in the Orthodox tradition that you find in Catholicism. By that I mean people don't go every Sunday at a certain time. They can go any day of the week. Furthermore, the sermons consist of the monks gathering in the church to read, though it's much more like singing, from their sacred texts. Attending church is simply going during these times, standing and listening, crossing yourself at the (many) appropriate time(s) and at the end, going to the front to kiss the pictures of the saints.

As we left the church, one of my friends stopped to buy a small token from an old nun. She was selling various, religious type goods (candles, crosses, pictures...). My friend is American, the Nun is Serbian, so they struggled to communicate. She asked if he spoke German. He didn't, but I did, and we conducted business in German. Then she asked where we were from. I told her we were American. She threw her hands up in disgust: "ohh!" she said. "Ich spreche Deutsche aber kein English. English nicht wollen. NATO bomben!" In her eyes, we were the responsible party for what happened in 1999. For that reason, she didn't like our language, though she still sold her goods to my friend. Apparently out language wasn't welcome, but our money was ok.

None of us wanted to get drawn into a debate on this issue, nor would it have been appropriate. We thanked her and left, followed by her unflinching stare, and a look on her face that suggested she was bursting to tell us something; she remained quiet. She even followed us to the door and asked if we had questions about the church. We declined the offer.

As we left the church my friend asked me what she had said. I told him. "I thought so" he said. "Excuse me" said a man behind us. "Can I tell you something about the church?" he was a Serbian man with very good English. As we were pressed for time, we declined, but we all walked together to where our cars were parked. He and his wife were clearly interested in us, how we found this place, and why we were in Serbia. The fact that we were American had no negative impact on his interest in us. We left with an invitation to his Bakery in Zemun, following him as he guided us back to the Highway.

We drove back to BG to pick someone up from the Airport, which is right next to the airplane museum. The only museum in the world to host a shot down American Stealth Bomber. Shot down by the Serbians during the 1999 NATO bombing.