The
Clash of Ignorance
Edward
W. Said 
Samuel Huntington's article "The Clash of
Civilizations?" appeared in the Summer 1993 issue of Foreign Affairs,
where it immediately attracted a surprising amount of attention and reaction.
Because the article was intended to supply Americans with an original thesis
about "a new phase" in world politics after the end of the cold war,
Huntington's terms of argument seemed compellingly large, bold, even visionary.
He very clearly had his eye on rivals in the policy-making ranks, theorists such
as Francis Fukuyama and his "end of history" ideas, as well as the legions who
had celebrated the onset of globalism, tribalism and the dissipation of the
state. But they, he allowed, had understood only some aspects of this new
period. He was about to announce the "crucial, indeed a central, aspect" of what
"global politics is likely to be in the coming years." Unhesitatingly he pressed
on: "It is my hypothesis that the fundamental source of conflict in this new
world will not be primarily ideological or primarily economic. The great
divisions among humankind and the dominating source of conflict will be
cultural. Nation states will remain the most powerful actors in world affairs,
but the principal conflicts of global politics will occur between nations and
groups of different civilizations. The clash of civilizations will dominate
global politics. The fault lines between civilizations will be the battle lines
of the future."
Most of the argument in the pages that followed relied on a vague notion of
something Huntington called "civilization identity" and "the interactions among
seven or eight [sic] major civilizations," of which the conflict between
two of them, Islam and the West, gets the lion's share of his attention. In this
belligerent kind of thought, he relies heavily on a 1990 article by the veteran
Orientalist Bernard Lewis, whose ideological colors are manifest in its title,
"The Roots of Muslim Rage." In both articles, the personification of enormous
entities called "the West" and "Islam" is recklessly affirmed, as if hugely
complicated matters like identity and culture existed in a cartoonlike world
where Popeye and Bluto bash each other mercilessly, with one always more
virtuous pugilist getting the upper hand over his adversary. Certainly neither
Huntington nor Lewis has much time to spare for the internal dynamics and
plurality of every civilization, or for the fact that the major contest in most
modern cultures concerns the definition or interpretation of each culture, or
for the unattractive possibility that a great deal of demagogy and downright
ignorance is involved in presuming to speak for a whole religion or
civilization. No, the West is the West, and Islam Islam.
The challenge for Western policy-makers, says Huntington, is to make sure
that the West gets stronger and fends off all the others, Islam in particular.
More troubling is Huntington's assumption that his perspective, which is to
survey the entire world from a perch outside all ordinary attachments and hidden
loyalties, is the correct one, as if everyone else were scurrying around looking
for the answers that he has already found. In fact, Huntington is an ideologist,
someone who wants to make "civilizations" and "identities" into what they are
not: shut-down, sealed-off entities that have been purged of the myriad currents
and countercurrents that animate human history, and that over centuries have
made it possible for that history not only to contain wars of religion and
imperial conquest but also to be one of exchange, cross-fertilization and
sharing. This far less visible history is ignored in the rush to highlight the
ludicrously compressed and constricted warfare that "the clash of civilizations"
argues is the reality. When he published his book by the same title in 1996,
Huntington tried to give his argument a little more subtlety and many, many more
footnotes; all he did, however, was confuse himself and demonstrate what a
clumsy writer and inelegant thinker he was.
The basic paradigm of West versus the rest (the cold war opposition
reformulated) remained untouched, and this is what has persisted, often
insidiously and implicitly, in discussion since the terrible events of September
11. The carefully planned and horrendous, pathologically motivated suicide
attack and mass slaughter by a small group of deranged militants has been turned
into proof of Huntington's thesis. Instead of seeing it for what it is--the
capture of big ideas (I use the word loosely) by a tiny band of crazed fanatics
for criminal purposes--international luminaries from former Pakistani Prime
Minister Benazir Bhutto to Italian Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi have
pontificated about Islam's troubles, and in the latter's case have used
Huntington's ideas to rant on about the West's superiority, how "we" have Mozart
and Michelangelo and they don't. (Berlusconi has since made a halfhearted
apology for his insult to "Islam.")
But why not instead see parallels, admittedly less spectacular in their
destructiveness, for Osama bin Laden and his followers in cults like the Branch
Davidians or the disciples of the Rev. Jim Jones at Guyana or the Japanese Aum
Shinrikyo? Even the normally sober British weekly The Economist, in its
issue of September 22-28, can't resist reaching for the vast generalization,
praising Huntington extravagantly for his "cruel and sweeping, but nonetheless
acute" observations about Islam. "Today," the journal says with unseemly
solemnity, Huntington writes that "the world's billion or so Muslims are
'convinced of the superiority of their culture, and obsessed with the
inferiority of their power.'" Did he canvas 100 Indonesians, 200 Moroccans, 500
Egyptians and fifty Bosnians? Even if he did, what sort of sample is that?
Uncountable are the editorials in every American and European newspaper and
magazine of note adding to this vocabulary of gigantism and apocalypse, each use
of which is plainly designed not to edify but to inflame the reader's indignant
passion as a member of the "West," and what we need to do. Churchillian rhetoric
is used inappropriately by self-appointed combatants in the West's, and
especially America's, war against its haters, despoilers, destroyers, with scant
attention to complex histories that defy such reductiveness and have seeped from
one territory into another, in the process overriding the boundaries that are
supposed to separate us all into divided armed camps.
This is the problem with unedifying labels like Islam and the West: They
mislead and confuse the mind, which is trying to make sense of a disorderly
reality that won't be pigeonholed or strapped down as easily as all that. I
remember interrupting a man who, after a lecture I had given at a West Bank
university in 1994, rose from the audience and started to attack my ideas as
"Western," as opposed to the strict Islamic ones he espoused. "Why are you
wearing a suit and tie?" was the first retort that came to mind. "They're
Western too." He sat down with an embarrassed smile on his face, but I recalled
the incident when information on the September 11 terrorists started to come in:
how they had mastered all the technical details required to inflict their
homicidal evil on the World Trade Center, the Pentagon and the aircraft they had
commandeered. Where does one draw the line between "Western" technology and, as
Berlusconi declared, "Islam's" inability to be a part of "modernity"?
One cannot easily do so, of course. How finally inadequate are the labels,
generalizations and cultural assertions. At some level, for instance, primitive
passions and sophisticated know-how converge in ways that give the lie to a
fortified boundary not only between "West" and "Islam" but also between past and
present, us and them, to say nothing of the very concepts of identity and
nationality about which there is unending disagreement and debate. A unilateral
decision made to draw lines in the sand, to undertake crusades, to oppose their
evil with our good, to extirpate terrorism and, in Paul Wolfowitz's nihilistic
vocabulary, to end nations entirely, doesn't make the supposed entities any
easier to see; rather, it speaks to how much simpler it is to make bellicose
statements for the purpose of mobilizing collective passions than to reflect,
examine, sort out what it is we are dealing with in reality, the
interconnectedness of innumerable lives, "ours" as well as "theirs."
In a remarkable series of three articles published between January and March
1999 in Dawn, Pakistan's most respected weekly, the late Eqbal Ahmad,
writing for a Muslim audience, analyzed what he called the roots of the
religious right, coming down very harshly on the mutilations of Islam by
absolutists and fanatical tyrants whose obsession with regulating personal
behavior promotes "an Islamic order reduced to a penal code, stripped of its
humanism, aesthetics, intellectual quests, and spiritual devotion." And this
"entails an absolute assertion of one, generally de-contextualized, aspect of
religion and a total disregard of another. The phenomenon distorts religion,
debases tradition, and twists the political process wherever it unfolds." As a
timely instance of this debasement, Ahmad proceeds first to present the rich,
complex, pluralist meaning of the word jihad and then goes on to show
that in the word's current confinement to indiscriminate war against presumed
enemies, it is impossible "to recognize the Islamic--religion, society, culture,
history or politics--as lived and experienced by Muslims through the ages." The
modern Islamists, Ahmad concludes, are "concerned with power, not with the soul;
with the mobilization of people for political purposes rather than with sharing
and alleviating their sufferings and aspirations. Theirs is a very limited and
time-bound political agenda." What has made matters worse is that similar
distortions and zealotry occur in the "Jewish" and "Christian" universes of
discourse.
It was Conrad, more powerfully than any of his readers at the end of the
nineteenth century could have imagined, who understood that the distinctions
between civilized London and "the heart of darkness" quickly collapsed in
extreme situations, and that the heights of European civilization could
instantaneously fall into the most barbarous practices without preparation or
transition. And it was Conrad also, in The Secret Agent (1907), who
described terrorism's affinity for abstractions like "pure science" (and by
extension for "Islam" or "the West"), as well as the terrorist's ultimate moral
degradation.
For there are closer ties between apparently warring civilizations than most
of us would like to believe; both Freud and Nietzsche showed how the traffic
across carefully maintained, even policed boundaries moves with often terrifying
ease. But then such fluid ideas, full of ambiguity and skepticism about notions
that we hold on to, scarcely furnish us with suitable, practical guidelines for
situations such as the one we face now. Hence the altogether more reassuring
battle orders (a crusade, good versus evil, freedom against fear, etc.) drawn
out of Huntington's alleged opposition between Islam and the West, from which
official discourse drew its vocabulary in the first days after the September 11
attacks. There's since been a noticeable de-escalation in that discourse, but to
judge from the steady amount of hate speech and actions, plus reports of law
enforcement efforts directed against Arabs, Muslims and Indians all over the
country, the paradigm stays on.
One further reason for its persistence is the increased presence of Muslims
all over Europe and the United States. Think of the populations today of France,
Italy, Germany, Spain, Britain, America, even Sweden, and you must concede that
Islam is no longer on the fringes of the West but at its center. But what is so
threatening about that presence? Buried in the collective culture are memories
of the first great Arab-Islamic conquests, which began in the seventh century
and which, as the celebrated Belgian historian Henri Pirenne wrote in his
landmark book Mohammed and Charlemagne (1939), shattered once and for all
the ancient unity of the Mediterranean, destroyed the Christian-Roman synthesis
and gave rise to a new civilization dominated by northern powers (Germany and
Carolingian France) whose mission, he seemed to be saying, is to resume defense
of the "West" against its historical-cultural enemies. What Pirenne left out,
alas, is that in the creation of this new line of defense the West drew on the
humanism, science, philosophy, sociology and historiography of Islam, which had
already interposed itself between Charlemagne's world and classical antiquity.
Islam is inside from the start, as even Dante, great enemy of Mohammed, had to
concede when he placed the Prophet at the very heart of his Inferno.
Then there is the persisting legacy of monotheism itself, the Abrahamic
religions, as Louis Massignon aptly called them. Beginning with Judaism and
Christianity, each is a successor haunted by what came before; for Muslims,
Islam fulfills and ends the line of prophecy. There is still no decent history
or demystification of the many-sided contest among these three followers--not
one of them by any means a monolithic, unified camp--of the most jealous of all
gods, even though the bloody modern convergence on Palestine furnishes a rich
secular instance of what has been so tragically irreconcilable about them. Not
surprisingly, then, Muslims and Christians speak readily of crusades and
jihads, both of them eliding the Judaic presence with often sublime
insouciance. Such an agenda, says Eqbal Ahmad, is "very reassuring to the men
and women who are stranded in the middle of the ford, between the deep waters of
tradition and modernity."
But we are all swimming in those waters, Westerners and Muslims and others
alike. And since the waters are part of the ocean of history, trying to plow or
divide them with barriers is futile. These are tense times, but it is better to
think in terms of powerful and powerless communities, the secular politics of
reason and ignorance, and universal principles of justice and injustice, than to
wander off in search of vast abstractions that may give momentary satisfaction
but little self-knowledge or informed analysis. "The Clash of Civilizations"
thesis is a gimmick like "The War of the Worlds," better for reinforcing
defensive self-pride than for critical understanding of the bewildering
interdependence of our time.