Oh, yes, and has to be noted:
Gilad Shalit in exchange for 1,027 Palestinian detainees; talks of Ilan Grapel in exchange for 81 Egyptian detainees.
I posted something along these lines elsewhere this morning, and a friend commented "what an exchange rate." True, but disturbing to refer to people as "exchange rates." So much potential discussion here that I wish I had the time to post more. The question of the value of an individual, the debates (eg political) the matter has spawned within Israel in the past five years, etc etc. Quite something, to say the least.
Check out Ha'aretz for boatloads of coverage. ...and of course, hearty (general) congratulations for the long-awaited return of Shalit.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
The Kakar factor in reading Colors of Violence
A brief note as I make my way through our readings in The Colors of Violence - the author, Sudhir Kakar, is a peculiar fellow. More relevant than the oddities of his side comments (eg relaying the beginnings of a mobster joke he was formulating while waiting for an interviewee), though, is his personal bias.
I know, I know, he specifically noted the importance of considering the questioner's own bias an analyzing others, but I felt somehow that, ironically, he failed to recognize his own quite as much as he ought to have. Sure, there's no attempt to veil the bias, and the very fact that an Indian is writing a book about Hindu-Muslim violence tells you that the author is bound to be tied to one side or the other (the question is really not a matter of if we are biased, but in what way and to what extent).
Take, for instance, these two sentences in the third chapter: "The first time Mangal Singh clashed with the Muslims was in 1979. The Muslims had claimed a piece of land on the specious ground that it was an old community graveyard." ...Then later in that same paragraph, "he takes it only after work is done, not like some other pehlwans who take the money but refuse to do the work, daring the client to do his utmost. Mangal, on the other hand, is a man of principles."
Mmk. A."the Muslims" - never "Muslims," but "the Muslims." Call me crazy, and maybe some disagree, but it strikes me that the very use of this definite article immediately encourages generalization. Mangal was not simply clashing with some others who identified as Muslim; no, he was clashing with "the Muslims" - the entire group. In-group, out-group, perpetuated by the author's language. B.Perhaps it was "specious ground," but to what extent should he editorialize - a thought that goes with C."a man of principles"?
...also couldn't help but note his comment on the same page (78) that the Hindi word for "strength" is best translated as "manpower" - misogyny of language much? ...or perhaps just misogyny of an author who reports himself to have said to his female companion, "If they try to rape you, keep your protests down to a minimum. I don't want them to get enraged and kill us both." (66) ....Oy.
I know, I know, he specifically noted the importance of considering the questioner's own bias an analyzing others, but I felt somehow that, ironically, he failed to recognize his own quite as much as he ought to have. Sure, there's no attempt to veil the bias, and the very fact that an Indian is writing a book about Hindu-Muslim violence tells you that the author is bound to be tied to one side or the other (the question is really not a matter of if we are biased, but in what way and to what extent).
Take, for instance, these two sentences in the third chapter: "The first time Mangal Singh clashed with the Muslims was in 1979. The Muslims had claimed a piece of land on the specious ground that it was an old community graveyard." ...Then later in that same paragraph, "he takes it only after work is done, not like some other pehlwans who take the money but refuse to do the work, daring the client to do his utmost. Mangal, on the other hand, is a man of principles."
Mmk. A."the Muslims" - never "Muslims," but "the Muslims." Call me crazy, and maybe some disagree, but it strikes me that the very use of this definite article immediately encourages generalization. Mangal was not simply clashing with some others who identified as Muslim; no, he was clashing with "the Muslims" - the entire group. In-group, out-group, perpetuated by the author's language. B.Perhaps it was "specious ground," but to what extent should he editorialize - a thought that goes with C."a man of principles"?
...also couldn't help but note his comment on the same page (78) that the Hindi word for "strength" is best translated as "manpower" - misogyny of language much? ...or perhaps just misogyny of an author who reports himself to have said to his female companion, "If they try to rape you, keep your protests down to a minimum. I don't want them to get enraged and kill us both." (66) ....Oy.
Monday, October 3, 2011
Insight from an Irishman on violence and excuses
"If one's goal is not harmony but the empowerment that comes with using violence, it is in one's interest to be in a state of war. In such cases, war is not only the context for violence but also the excuse for it." (Juergensmeyer 152)
To be perfectly honest, this quote highlighted near the end of class today reminded me of a conversation I had this past summer - a conversation with a fellow from Belfast in a bar in Berlin around 1am. One way or another, (after counteracting his pints with falafel), we got into conversation about the Troubles. In the course of the discussion, he made a comment that seemed to come partially from his upbringing and relative liberalness (is that the word I want?), partially from national frustration, and perhaps partially influenced by the self-assurance enhancements of alcohol. In any case, his comment was this: it was, quite simply, an excuse to be violent - something he'd decided, at that point, had become inherent in the Irish nature.
My initial reaction was vague surprise at his cynicism and what seemed to be a bestialization of a national character to which he belonged. Regardless of the somewhat abnormal setting, the discussion required a bit more digging, through which conversation I learned that he'd been orphaned young, both adopted parents had served actively in police forces, and they'd raised him in a secular (possibly agnostic) household. ...all of which could explain a fair bit, and reminded me slightly of various Veterans for Peace movements and organizations, in the US and elsewhere (eg Israel) - those directly caught up in conflict can often be the ones most loudly advocating peace later on, having experienced the horrors of violence. ...On the other hand, we also find things like cycles of violence and revenge.
Truly, I'm not completely sure at the moment what this post is leading to, it's just a bit of thought floating about in my head. Could also be connected to my last post, in that a conflict can become complicated - or perhaps over-simplified in some cases - by mobilizing other matters, like religion, in it's continuation. Even to the point that the actors and bystanders become so entangled in it that it seems an excuse for violence...
To be perfectly honest, this quote highlighted near the end of class today reminded me of a conversation I had this past summer - a conversation with a fellow from Belfast in a bar in Berlin around 1am. One way or another, (after counteracting his pints with falafel), we got into conversation about the Troubles. In the course of the discussion, he made a comment that seemed to come partially from his upbringing and relative liberalness (is that the word I want?), partially from national frustration, and perhaps partially influenced by the self-assurance enhancements of alcohol. In any case, his comment was this: it was, quite simply, an excuse to be violent - something he'd decided, at that point, had become inherent in the Irish nature.
My initial reaction was vague surprise at his cynicism and what seemed to be a bestialization of a national character to which he belonged. Regardless of the somewhat abnormal setting, the discussion required a bit more digging, through which conversation I learned that he'd been orphaned young, both adopted parents had served actively in police forces, and they'd raised him in a secular (possibly agnostic) household. ...all of which could explain a fair bit, and reminded me slightly of various Veterans for Peace movements and organizations, in the US and elsewhere (eg Israel) - those directly caught up in conflict can often be the ones most loudly advocating peace later on, having experienced the horrors of violence. ...On the other hand, we also find things like cycles of violence and revenge.
Truly, I'm not completely sure at the moment what this post is leading to, it's just a bit of thought floating about in my head. Could also be connected to my last post, in that a conflict can become complicated - or perhaps over-simplified in some cases - by mobilizing other matters, like religion, in it's continuation. Even to the point that the actors and bystanders become so entangled in it that it seems an excuse for violence...
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Political mobilization of differences (via Posner)
What conditions result in peaceful coexistence of different peoples (ethnically, religiously, culturally, etc) and what results in violence?
This, of course, is one of those conundrums we've been considering, and a comment along those lines in class a few days ago brought to mind a discussion I'd had in a course on African politics some time ago. One of our readings, "The Political Salience of Cultural Difference" by Daniel Posner, analyzed that question exactly on a tribal level: why had Chewas and Tumbukas formed a peaceful coalition in Zambia yet were hostile towards one another across the border in Malawi? The groups speak different languages, one is matrimonial and the other patrimonial, marriage and farming practices are notably different, etc etc. What makes them friendly in one country and hostile not far away?
In short, Posner's conclusion was this: both groups are larger in Malawi, making them viable opposition in politically-charged settings, ethno-political loyalties (and thereby hostilities) encouraged by political leaders in that country. In Zambia, however, both groups were smaller, and thereby banded together as minorities rather than being mobilized against one another.
Surely there could be more factors involved, but it's a factor that, I'd think, could (and has) played a vital role in religious conflict as well (say, our discussions about the Troubles) how movement leaders choose to mobilize (or not) differences, be it ethnic or religious, etc etc. Perhaps as with our discussion of ethnicity as a social construct, the labeling of "the other" as politically charged is also a matter of social construct... logical, yes? Once these differences have been mobilized, then, matters become all the more complicated and intricate, both in considering the root(s) of the conflict and in attempting to resolve it.
...Considering the above example, probably won't come as a large surprise that I've chosen to focus my papers on religious conflict in Nigeria, where tribal differences once again play a role. Even for those not as intrigued by Africa as myself, though, I'd still recommend taking a gander at that article, if only for the basic consideration of politically mobilizing non-political differences... if that made sense. Hopefully it did...
This, of course, is one of those conundrums we've been considering, and a comment along those lines in class a few days ago brought to mind a discussion I'd had in a course on African politics some time ago. One of our readings, "The Political Salience of Cultural Difference" by Daniel Posner, analyzed that question exactly on a tribal level: why had Chewas and Tumbukas formed a peaceful coalition in Zambia yet were hostile towards one another across the border in Malawi? The groups speak different languages, one is matrimonial and the other patrimonial, marriage and farming practices are notably different, etc etc. What makes them friendly in one country and hostile not far away?
In short, Posner's conclusion was this: both groups are larger in Malawi, making them viable opposition in politically-charged settings, ethno-political loyalties (and thereby hostilities) encouraged by political leaders in that country. In Zambia, however, both groups were smaller, and thereby banded together as minorities rather than being mobilized against one another.
Surely there could be more factors involved, but it's a factor that, I'd think, could (and has) played a vital role in religious conflict as well (say, our discussions about the Troubles) how movement leaders choose to mobilize (or not) differences, be it ethnic or religious, etc etc. Perhaps as with our discussion of ethnicity as a social construct, the labeling of "the other" as politically charged is also a matter of social construct... logical, yes? Once these differences have been mobilized, then, matters become all the more complicated and intricate, both in considering the root(s) of the conflict and in attempting to resolve it.
...Considering the above example, probably won't come as a large surprise that I've chosen to focus my papers on religious conflict in Nigeria, where tribal differences once again play a role. Even for those not as intrigued by Africa as myself, though, I'd still recommend taking a gander at that article, if only for the basic consideration of politically mobilizing non-political differences... if that made sense. Hopefully it did...
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