Atatürk, the first president and founder of the Turkish Republic, saw this. He began to campaign for the emancipation of women back in the 1920s. In a series of speeches, his recurring theme was: “Our most urgent task at the present time is to modernize, to catch up with the modern world. We shall not succeed in catching up with the modern world if we only modernize half the population.” Others have seen that since. Over the course of the last sixty years I have seen Atatürk’s efforts to transform women into equal participants in the professional and political life of their country reversed, both in Turkey and in other countries in the region which were for a time in thrall to the Soviets.
“The Roots of Muslim Rage” was a cover story in the Atlantic, and provoked significant interest in the wider media. I was asked to appear on various television and radio shows, and invitations to conferences and study groups in Washington proliferated. In 1993 Samuel P. Huntington wrote an article in Foreign Affairs offering an alternative vision of post–Cold War geopolitics to the influential end-of-history thesis advocated by Francis Fukuyama. Huntington graciously acknowledged that he had borrowed the phrase which he used as the title of his article from my Atlantic Monthly article, in which I referred to a “clash between civilizations.” Huntington developed the theme in his book The Clash of Civilizations, which was deservedly a best seller and has become a fixture in many college courses. I think he made a real contribution to our better understanding of one of the great problems of our time.
Anti-Americanism
Since the Iranian Revolution, a common refrain in the writings of Muslim political agitators (including Osama bin Ladin) is that the Americans, because of their depraved and self-indulgent way of life, have become soft and cannot take casualties. The message, as perceived, was clear: “Hit them and they will run.” This view is supported by the same narrative of events:
• abandonment of Vietnam
• impotence during the 444 days of the Iranian hostage crisis in 1979
• 1983 attacks in Beirut at the U.S. Embassy and the U.S. Marine Corps HQ
• the withdrawal from Beirut in 1984 and Somalia in 1993, after being attacked
• 1993 attack on the World Trade Center in New York
• attack on an American military mission in Riyad in 1995
• the Khobar Towers, a U.S. barracks in Saudi Arabia destroyed by a bomb in 1996
• coordinated attacks on U.S. embassies in Kenya and Tanzania in 1998
All told, hundreds were killed in these attacks and thousands were injured. This brought angry words from the U.S. government and, at most, a few misdirected missiles. The conclusion that Muslim extremists drew from all this, which they clearly stated, was that the United States had become feeble and frightened, incapable of responding to attack.
On February 23, 1998, an Arabic newspaper in London printed the full text of a “Declaration of the world Islamic front for jihad against the Jews and the Crusaders,” faxed to them over the signature of Osama bin Ladin. He blamed the United States for masterminding the bombing of the American embassies in East Africa in August. The document made it clear that its author, a Saudi, was much more concerned with the Crusaders than with the Jews, who receive only brief mention, and that by “the Crusaders” he means, primarily, the United States. Later, when he realized that attacking Israel was very effective in rallying support, he realigned his priorities and put greater emphasis on demonizing the Jewish state.
Since God laid down the Arabian peninsula, created its deserts, and surrounded it with its seas, no calamity has ever befallen it like these Crusader hosts that have spread in it like locusts, crowding its soil, eating its fruits, and destroying its verdure; and this at a time when the nations contend against the Muslims like diners jostling around a bowl of food.
First—for more than seven years the United States is occupying the lands of Islam in the holiest of its territories, Arabia, plundering its riches, overwhelming its rulers, humiliating its people, threatening its neighbors, and using its bases in the peninsula to fight against the neighboring Islamic peoples . . . [An odd way of describing American help in response to Arabia’s appeal.]
By God’s leave we call on every Muslim who believes in God and hopes for reward to obey God’s command to kill the Americans and plunder their possessions wherever he finds them and wherever he can. Likewise we call on the Muslim ulema and leaders and youth and soldiers to launch attacks against the armies of the American devils and those who are allied with them from among the helpers of Satan . . .
The importance, indeed the major importance, of this document was obvious to anyone who could read and understand Arabic. But those were few, and of the few many, for obvious reasons, preferred to be silent. I felt it necessary to break this silence and make the document known, and published a description and abridged translation in the November/December 1998 issue of Foreign Affairs, under the title “License to Kill.”
Osama bin Ladin’s Declaration of War demanded a new perspective, one in which movements in the Middle East were no longer seen in traditional terms as local, national, regional or as anti-imperial. The new militant Islamic global struggle was a renewal of a conflict that began with the advent of Islam in the seventh century.
As a close watcher of both events and discourse in the Muslim world, I was appalled but not surprised by the events and attacks of 9/11. As the militants saw it, they had completed the first phase on the path toward Muslim domination—the expulsion of the infidels and their armies from the lands of Islam. The next and final step was to carry the battle into the enemy’s homeland to inaugurate the final global struggle between the true believers and the unbelievers for the mastery of the world and bring about the final universal triumph of their cause.
Americans had many questions about who these attackers were and why this happened.
It so happened that the September 11 attacks coincided with the publication of one of my books, What Went Wrong? Western Impact and Middle Eastern Response, which appeared in stores weeks later, and to everyone’s surprise, not least to that of the publishers, it became an instant best seller. This is not a common experience in the world of academic publishing, for authors or publishers, and this instant success brought a mixture of joy and bewilderment. A second book, The Crisis of Islam: Holy War and Unholy Terror, appeared a year later, and that also became a best seller. I thus had the unique experience of having two best sellers concurrently. My son gave me a delightful present at the time, a beautifully laminated plaque showing the best-seller lists from the Sunday New York Times of April 27, 2003. What Went Wrong was number one on the paperback list and The Crisis of Islam was number one on the hardcover list.
Osama bin Ladin made me famous. I was interviewed, quoted, filmed and I even made the front page of The Wall Street Journal. I remember remarking at the time that if bin Ladin claimed a percentage of my royalties for promoting the book, I would have to admit there was some justice in his claim. Two simultaneous best sellers brought other consequences—translations into many languages, lecture invitations, unending requests for interviews and the like. And it brought a significant, albeit temporary, improvement in my financial status.
A number of my books have been translated into many languages3 and usually the translation has had more or less the same title as the original. But What Went Wrong? seems to have caused trouble to many translators. In some languages, for example in Danish, they found an exact equivalent of the English phrase. But in many languages, including the most widely used, they apparently found no way of rendering this simple, everyday English phrase into their language. The French translation was called Que c’est-il passé? When I was informed of this by the French publisher, I pointed out that in French that simply means “What happened?” which is not the same as “What went wrong?” to which the French publisher replied rather coldly, “If something goes wrong, that is what a Frenchman would ask.” The Italian translation was more imaginative; the book was entitled The Su
icide of Islam. The German translation evoked the memory of a famous book by Oswald Spengler, The Decline of the West, or literally The Decline of the Evening Land. The German translation of my book was entitled The Decline of the Morning Land, i.e., the decline of the East—an excellent title. I have no idea what my publishers did with the translations into Chinese, Japanese and other languages that I don’t know.
The prompt response against Al-Qaida bases in Afghanistan no doubt came as a shock to the terrorist organizations and obliged them to revise some of their earlier assessments. But the general perception of American weakness and demoralization remains, and is encouraged by the processes, wholly unfamiliar and therefore incomprehensible to them, in which a democratic society discusses and debates its problems.
The Media
The Western media mostly “get” the Middle East wrong. I would divide the errors or misrepresentations into two categories—honest ignorance and dishonest bias. Two familiar American phrases are often turned on their heads. “No news is good news” has been reversed to “Good news is no news.” The other, “My country, right or wrong,” has become “My country, wrong.”
In all my travels in the Middle East I have met many correspondents and only two really had a mastery of Arabic language and culture—one was American and the other Japanese. Both were good Arabic scholars and both had done their Arabic studies in the United States. But they were exceptional in having done their homework.
I have been interviewed many times, by journalists and others, in many countries. These interviews fall broadly into two distinct categories. In the first the interviewer comes with his list of questions, prepared in advance. He may or may not listen to your answers; there is no clear evidence one way or the other. When you finish your answer, or are interrupted, the interviewer proceeds to his second question, irrespective of where you are in the narrative. There is no follow-up. The same thing happens with his third, fourth and any subsequent questions that he may have.
The other kind of interview, very much rarer, is one in which the interviewer actually listens. In effect he comes only with an outline and a first question, listens to what you have to say until you finish your remarks, and then poses a second question arising from your answer to his first. In the same way his third question often arises from the second and so on.
In my experience, the first kind of interview is usually a bore, for the participants as well as for the audience. The second is far more interesting and can even be of value. I suppose, applying economic principles, one might say that its value is increased by its rarity. In my experience I have had many examples of the first kind, very few of the second.
A few years ago I was interviewed by a German journalist on my views on the general situation in Europe and I drew attention to the growing Muslim presence due to immigration, conversion and demography and remarked that if this continued unabated probably by the end of the twenty-first century Europe would have a Muslim majority population. The interview was published in a German newspaper and surprisingly attracted enormous worldwide attention, both positive and negative. As far as I can make out, this was the first occasion in which anyone actually drew attention to this possibility. Not long after this I had a telephone call from an Italian journalist asking to interview me. I said, “What about?” He said, “About the growing Muslim presence in Europe and especially in Italy and how can we defend ourselves and our identity?” “The answer is simple,” I said. “Marry young and have children.” That was not what he wanted to hear. He slammed down the receiver and I never heard from him again.
Since then this issue has attracted increasing attention from quarters all over Europe.
Right after September 11, I published a fourteen-page article called “The Revolt of Islam” in The New Yorker (November 19, 2001). The content is indicated by the subtitle, “A new turn in a long war with the West.” I was surprised and delighted that this article was selected for the George Polk Award for magazine reporting, which was duly presented to me and to representatives of The New Yorker at a quite elaborate ceremony in New York.
The reason I was surprised is that I am by profession a historian; that is to say, I deal wth the past. Not only that; I am a retired historian so even my past is, so to speak, passé. It was therefore with surprise bordering on bewilderment that I found myself the recipient of an award for reporting. Among journalists, it has long been the custom, if you wish to describe a colleague’s work as obscure and irrelevant, to call it academic; similarly, in academic circles, when we wish to criticize a colleague’s work as glib and superficial, we call it journalistic. But I have learned over the years that behind this reciprocal exchange of insults between our professions, there is a hidden urge toward emulation, with a corresponding desire for recognition. It was for this reason that my initial feelings of surprise were soon overwhelmed in the flood of gratification and gratitude.
Interestingly, The New Yorker did not ask me to write for them again; this article was obviously not in accord with their worldview. They did however publish a not very attractive portrait of me in an article on the great photographer Richard Avedon and his work in November 2004. Somewhat mysteriously, I am preceded by some union leaders and followed by Bill O’Reilly and James Carville. Avedon and I each found the other surprisingly interesting and we had an unusually long conversation over a wide range of topics.
10.
Orientalism and the Cult of Right Thinking
Anyone who studies the evolution of a civilization must, in the course of time, devote some thought to the broader and more general aspects of his topic, as distinct from the more specific objects of his immediate research. Any writer or teacher of history must periodically mentally explore the larger implications of the historic process. And, on a more mundane level, any professional scholar must at times pause and consider the state and needs of the field of scholarship in which he works, more especially when, as now, this field, and indeed scholarship itself, are under attack.
There is a current school of thought which says that history can only be written by insiders—that Arab history must be written by Arabs and no one else, and that Muslim history can only be written by Muslims and Patagonian history can only be written by Patagonians and so on. This has had some echo on the American campus, for example, in various kinds of ethnic studies. This is a dangerous trend because it leads to a kind of intellectual protectionism and limits the free circulation of ideas.
Obviously there are ways in which a Swede can study Swedish history as only a Swede can do. A Swede can know Sweden and Swedish in a way that no non-Swede could ever hope to know it. But nevertheless I don’t think any Swede would claim that Swedish history or Swedish literature should be a closed preserve in which only Swedes are allowed to hunt. Some who are not Swedes, from outside, may achieve certain insights, may see things in a perspective different from that of the Swedes and have a useful contribution to make. Sweden is a free country and Swedes can take any line that they wish. Many countries are not free and those of us who live in free countries have a duty to our colleagues in unfree countries to do what they are not permitted to do, and that is to write an honest and objective history of their country.
A relevant example. There were many in Western Europe and the United States who dealt with Soviet history during the Soviet era. Some of them were acclaimed by the Soviets as seeing things in the right light and writing the right kind of history. Others were denounced by the Soviets as enemies of the Soviet people. After the fall of the Soviet Union, the ones who were denounced as enemies were welcomed in Russia, translated into Russian, invited to lecture and generally acclaimed. Those who were previously praised as good friends of the Soviets were dismissed with contempt as either hirelings or dupes of the Soviets. I haven’t the slightest doubt that sooner or later the same thing will happen in other parts of the world, including much of the Middle East, when the autocratic regimes which continue even now to rule most of them will be overthrown. Much
will depend on the nature of the regime that comes next.
In 1978 an event occurred which affected my life and more particularly my role in academic and in public affairs. This was the publication of Orientalism by Edward Said, professor of English and comparative literature at Columbia University, in which he imputed to Orientalists a sinister role as part of the imperialist domination and exploitation of the Islamic world by the West. In particular, he imputed to me an especially sinister role as what he called the leader of the Orientalists.
Scholars engaged in the study of the civilizations of the East came to be known in Europe by the term “Orientalist.” The term was coined on the analogy of the Hellenists who studied Greek, the Latinists who studied Latin and the Hebraists who studied Hebrew, the language of the Old Testament. The first two were also known as Classicists; the third came to be called Orientalists. In time they extended their attention beyond Hebrew, initially to other ancient Middle Eastern languages and cultures, and then to the remoter civilizations of Asia. Among those to whom it was applied, the term “Orientalist” has long since fallen out of use. For one thing, the word “Orient” is so vague and variable as to be useless—what, after all, do students of Arabic and of Japanese have in common that sets them apart from the Western humanities? At one time Orientalist, like Classicist, designated a basically philological method, but that too is out of date in this age of greater specialization, when the study of the Middle East, as of any other culture in the world, must draw on many different disciplines. The Orientalists have gone; their successors are historians, sociologists, political scientists, linguists, literary scholars and others dealing with the civilizations of the Middle East in a common intellectual effort with scholars of Middle Eastern origin. The term “Orientalist,” abandoned by its practitioners as obsolete and inaccurate, was scavenged by Said and others and recycled as a term of abuse.
Notes on a Century: Reflections of A Middle East Historian Page 27
