Adam Michnik and I decided to try to organize our friends in a common discussion.  Despite the workings of the security police and his jailers, and despite the hard realities of the cold war, we created alternatives in our own lives, and this affected many others. Although I am not informed about the specifics, I am sure that such things are now happening in China.

But I should be clear. I am not saying that therefore, the People’s Republic’s days are numbered, or that liberal democracy is just around the corner.  Escalation in repression is quite a likely prospect.  Michnik’s life after receiving our honorary doctorate did at first lead to a prison cell.   Shirin Ebadi is in exile today, as was Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn after his prize.   But people continue to interact around the shared human rights principles to which these people dedicated their lives, and this has persistent effects, at least for those people, but beyond their social circles as well.  As Michnik put it “the value of our struggle lies not in its chances for victory but rather in the values of its cause.”   My point is that if people keep acting according to those values, they are very much alive and consequential.

And it is in this way that I applaud the Afghan Womens Soccer team and understand its significance.  That these young women manage to play their game despite all the horrors of war and occupation, despite the persistence of harmful traditional practices and inadequate implementation of the law on elimination of violence against women in Afghanistan (this was the subject matter of the UN report that Denis Fitzgerald referred to in his reply to my post) is their great achievement.  We have to pay attention to such achievements, and not reduce everything to simple slogans:  whether they be “US and NATO forces out,” or “the Taliban must be defeated.”

And of course, the soccer team is an example of a general phenomenon, which may or may not prevail, of the empowerment of women that is developing in Afghanistan.  That there is such a struggle must be noted, even by opponents of continued American engagement in the war, such as me and Alias.  His assertion: “The plight of women in Afghanistan has always been a coy political tool to advocate war and nothing more,” I think, is deeply problematic.

Paying close attention to the details, the small things that make up a war, as the documentary Restrepo does, is also clearly important to orient informed action.  The film reveals the backstage of counterinsurgency, not a pretty sight. Michael points out that the film is not political, but it does reveal important facts upon which our politics should be informed. The film makes clear to me that a war without end, such as the one we seem to be in, is also deeply problematic.

For a Jew, who grew up meeting people recently arrived from Europe with tattooed numbers on their arms, the idea of a Democratic and Jewish state has been appealing.  But what does this mean in the detailed interactions of everyday life?  That is the crucial question, from the point of view of the politics of small things. In the details,  great injustices can be created, revealed in the letter we posted by Amal Eqeiq, begging for a resolution that provides respect, dignity and justice for Palestinians and Israelis alike.  This does require close examination.  So in our next post, Iddo Tavory will provide a translation of the Rabbi’s edict with a short commentary to encourage careful deliberation.

And then there is the issue of pleasure and its social construction.  Pierre Bourdieu studied how cultural sensibilities position us in the social order.  But it is not only class that is so determined, so is pleasure, as Iddo’s reflections on his trip to MoMA reveal.  We learn to have pleasure by developing pleasures in our youth.  Working on such details and providing the opportunities for them is an important part of a democratic education and culture.  I think I will return to that issue sometime next week.

Does thinking about the details we’ve considered this week lead to ready answers about the pressing issues of our times, or even of the week?  Clearly no.  But with reflection upon the details, we can critically judge more seriously President Obama’s continued war strategy announced on Thursday.  And we can understand that the status quo in Israel – Palestine is not acceptable, even if we don’t have at hand an easy solution.

Last week I went to MoMA. Since I came to New York I got more
 “culture” than ever before. It isn’t that Los Angeles had no great
 museums, but something about New York—or perhaps the fantasies of the
 city that I had—spurred me to go to museums much more. The exhibition I
 went to was Abstract Expressionist New York, which I was particularly 
excited about: New York art, shown in New York.

In other words, it is a
 bit like listening to the Red Hot Chili Peppers in California, only far
 more highbrow.

 As my partner and I were walking around, we were trying to make sense of
 the paintings, to decide if we like De Kooning and Motherwell, to “get a
 feel” for this kind of art. Though we both come from middle-class
 families, neither of us feels really comfortable around modern art, say, 
after early Expressionism or Cubism.

It isn’t that we don’t like it,
 it’s just that we don’t feel like we know how to evaluate it. It 
isn’t that we aren’t moved, it is almost as if we don’t know how to
 be moved. It is a strange sensation, looking at a painting and trying
 hard to be moved. Being moved, after all, shouldn’t involve trying.
 That’s the whole idea with emotion.

In fact, we do learn to be moved. More precisely, we learn ways to open 
ourselves to the possibility of being moved. Through the process known in sociology as “socialization,” we learn the knowledge, skills and preferences that will shape the choices we make, the direction we take.

This isn’t only a nice 
sociological idea, but something that we found out first hand when we were leaving
 the exhibition. At the entry to the exhibition, we saw a little work
sheet titled “Family Activity Guide.” On the side, to make sure we knew 
who it was intended to, it read “MoMA KIDS.”

In sleek paper, it had
 quotes from the artists and activities for children.  On the first page, 
there were quotes by Jackson Pollock. Kids had to look at one of the 
paintings, and see where the paint is “Dripped, Splashed, Poured,
 Splattered, Flung, and Layered.” Next came a page dedicated to sculptor 
David Smith. Here children were asked to draw an animal (there was a 
blank space for that purpose) and then re-draw it “using just five
 lines.”

But the one that really got to me was the page dedicated to Mark Rothko. 
Kids were instructed to look at the paintings, and at the big floating
 rectangles (explained in the booklet as “color fields.” Useful, that). Then, they 
were asked to choose a painting, and told to “take turns sharing words 
you think of while you are looking at it.” Below, they had a quote by
 Rothko: “I’m interested in expressing basic human emotions.”

The fourth sheet was detachable, with perforations made so you can tear
 it into 12 blank cards. The Rothko activity was to take the 12 cards,
and write “words that come to mind” as the kids are looking at the
 painting. Having written the words, children were told to scramble them,
 and voila, abstract-expressionist poetry was made.

Having done so, kids
 were suggested to look at a different Rothko painting, try to figure out
 the mood it conveys, and write another expressionist poem (on the back
side of the cards they just used).

 Sitting in the MoMA café, we were puzzling over what it felt like to be
 a kid working on this activity sheet. Looking through it children
 obviously learned several things. They learned how to name elements of modern art—color fields, for example.

They were also told what aspects of
 the paintings they should pay attention to—how the paint was being 
splattered, and later (in a page dedicated to De Kooning) how the 
painter moved as he painted. In an elegant way, they learned what was of
 essence.  It didn’t make them art experts, of course, but it made them 
conversant with the painting, a way to relate to them that my partner 
and I didn’t really have.

But this exercise provided more than instruction. Especially in the Rothko page, but in others 
as well, it taught children how they could feel. It taught them that when they looked at the pictures, they should have basic moods conveyed to them. More, 
that they should let themselves be swept up by these moods, to lose 
themselves in basic emotions. Sociologists often note that people learn
 to like different things, that this is part of being “socialized.”

Upper
middle-class children learn about abstract expressionism, working-class
 children don’t. This is part of how classes are differentiated.  As the 
activity sheet at the MoMA makes clear, it goes deeper than knowledge and skills.

It’s 
not only that children learn different things, it is that they also 
learn to enjoy them. They learn to enjoy them, by learning what kind of 
attitude they could take when looking at a painting, when sitting in a
 baseball stadium, when ordering sushi. They learn not only what to look 
for, but how they can derive pleasure—real pleasure—from it.

A Conversation Remembered

He recalled our conversation:

The mosque. If I remember correctly our conversation, my argument was that officially and legally, there is no doubt that there is absolutely nothing wrong with the initiative to build the mosque where planned and that President Obama as defender of the American constitution did the right thing when he made his speech and supported it. My concern was as a hopeless symbologist and on the symbolic level. Hence, having said that legally Muslims are within their constitutional rights, I was concerned whether it was absolutely necessary or wise to have a Muslim mosque so close to where radical Muslims massacred thousands of innocent Americans. You put my concern there to rest.

In our discussion, I essentially made the argument I have been making in posts here, most crucially my first one considering the raw facts , but also my more recent post The tragedy of Imam Feisal Abdul Rauf. My key point, which convinced Nachman, was that the Cordoba House was actually a respectful initiative, made by people of good will, who sought respectful dialogue between Muslims and their fellow Americans.  Yet, Nachman still was uncertain, having to do with his own expertise.

My other symbolic concern was with the name chosen for the mosque…”Cordoba House.” Now this raises another complex issue. Cordoba was a name of a Muslim battalion that won – fair and square – a battle against Christian armies. But, the emirate of Cordoba was also a showcase of Islam’s ability to promote cultural growth. This growth was under a religious-political regime of a caliphate (that is non-democratic), but that is how things worked at those times. Contemporary Christians were not democratic human rights lovers either at that time. Thus, the name Cordoba could have three historical meanings: one, a decisive Muslim military victory over Christian armies and another, a place and period of significant cultural growth and blooming. My concern was which one of these historical and symbolic meanings will be made dominant? And in whose mind?  A third possibility is an implicit implication that cultural growth follows Islamic military victories, under an Islamic rule.

These potential complex meanings of the name “Cordoba House” caused me to ponder. I suspect that it is possible that these symbols will not escape radicalized Muslims and I was just wondering whether it was not a good idea to have the mosque being built some decent distance from the 9/11 site, plus, perhaps re-consider a symbolic complex tell-tale name of the mosque. I am not sure, of course, and as I wrote – there is absolutely no legal problem with either building the mosque where planned or calling it “Cordoba House.” My only symbolic concern was whether it was wise doing it in this way and whether an initiative whose aim is to promote peace and inter-religious dialogue is not rolling on a track that can be interpreted in a contradictory fashion and that raises so much negative feelings.

Deliberate Considerations

Nachman’s concerns are serious. Clearly Feisal Abdul Rauf, in his statements about the community center, does not use the term as Nachman fears:  “Our name, Cordoba, was inspired by the city in Spain where Muslims, Christians and Jews co-existed in the Middle Ages during a period of great cultural enrichment created by Muslims. Our initiative is intended to cultivate understanding among all religions and cultures,” Rauf explained in his op-ed piece.

But there is always uncertainty about the meaning of symbols, and perhaps for this reason, while Rauf continues to use Cordoba as the name of the community center.  The developer behind the center prefers Park 51, so that the activities of the community will define its meaning, rather than a historical reference with possible contradictory historical meanings.  This is the sort of accommodation to community sensibilities that make sense to me.  And I would love to hear a discussion between Rauf and Ben Yehuda about the meaning of Cordoba, best would be at Park 51, when it opens.  I hope in the not too distant future.