the Chrysanthemum and the Tulip

IS the Pentagon truly going to deploy an army of cultural relativists to Muslim nations in an effort to make the world a safer place?

A few weeks ago this newspaper reported on an experimental Pentagon “human terrain” program to embed anthropologists in combat units in Iraq and Afghanistan. It featured two military anthropologists: Tracy (last name withheld), a cultural translator viewed by American paratroopers as “a crucial new weapon” in counterinsurgency; and Montgomery McFate, who has taken her Yale doctorate into active duty in a media blitz to convince skeptical colleagues that the occupying forces should know more about the local cultural scene'.

So begins an op-ed piece in the NYTabout the engagement of cultural anthropology in the service of military operations. I've read the article a few times through and still don't get it. The author, Richard Schweder, concludes that 'It turns out that the anthropologists are not really doing anthropology at all, but are basically hired as military tour guides to help counterinsurgency forces accomplish various nonlethal missions'; but nevertheless comes out against the Network of Concerned Anthropologists [which] has issued a statement that reads in part:

'We, the undersigned, believe that anthropologists should not engage in research and other activities that contribute to counter-insurgency operations in Iraq or in related theaters in the “war on terror.” Furthermore, we believe that anthropologists should refrain from directly assisting the US military in combat, be it through torture, interrogation, or tactical advice'.

Schweder gets all weak at the knees over the 'heartwarming' vision he 'began to imagine [of] an occupying army of moral relativists, enforcing the peace by drawing a lesson from the Ottoman Empire. The Ottomans lasted a much longer time than the British Empire in part because they had a brilliant counterinsurgency strategy. They did not try to impose their values on others. Instead, they made room — their famous “millet system” — for cultural pluralism, leaving each ethnic and religious group to control its own territory and at liberty to carry forward its distinctive way of life'. As much as the Armenians, say, have doubtless appreciated and profited from the Ottomans' do your own thing hippie philosophy, I have a hard time seeing how that example justifies an endorsement of anthropology's contribution to what the Network of Concerned Anthropologists describes as 'a brutal war of occupation which has entailed massive casualties'.

Further, it strikes me as somewhat disingenuous that he doesn't acknowledge that the pursuit of anthropology has always been intimately tied up with the pursuit of practical, tactical information, directly or indirectly in the service of military or otherwise national interests. See (for example) Ruth Benedict.

Thumbing

My father recently sent me an email that read in part: 'just read an article in the Atlantic, called 'This is not a Charity', on Bill Clinton’s new philanthropy approach. Very innovative and exciting. Hope his idea spreads like a wild fire across the globe' (my father speaks excellent English but it remains a third language and that's evident in some peculiarities in his delivery. I found this annoying when I was young, but powerful now, and endearing).

I haven't yet read the article which I assume is an excerpt from the book. But source material was pretty much for extra credit (if not derision) in my erstwhile profession so I don't mind saying I can pretty much guess. (This helps). Still, I wouldn't mind checking in to the Peabody Hotel about now to watch the parade. Slate's suite of articles today, published under the rubric 'Gifts for You' does offer some points to consider. I skimmed them all (except for the one with baseball in the title, doubtless betraying my fundamental un-American-ness and non-competitiveness). Some random observations on each:

1) 'The Rockefellers and Angry Commoners': it can't possibly be a coincidence that the article on the brutal origins of American philanthropy--conceived in capitalism's creation and rape of the American workforce-- illustrated by the Rockefellers'epigrammatic example-- is introduced by musings of Sandy Weill. Let anyone who's interested look into who has been advising both parties of late;

2) 'Great Expectations: Why Big Donors Back Teach for America': when I worked for a certain Ivy League institution, one of our boasts was that more TfA faculty were alumni of our university than of any other single school. Be assured that none of these well meaning recent graduates--or their parents--planned on actual careers in teaching inner city or rural school children;

3) 'Virtue for Sale: Will Customers Pay More to do Good?': Fact is, I do buy my towels at ABC, and you'll appreciate the fact that I take exception to the claim that 'As anyone who has ever paid a visit to ABC Carpet knows, its customers are not normal people'. As I figure it, abnormal people suffer exceptional deficits or enjoy exceptional benefits. I rejoice in and regret my exclusion from both categories. Respectively.

Me too

'“Bush lies” doesn’t cut it anymore. It’s time to confront the darker reality that we are lying to ourselves'. Surely all Americans must shiver in the cold light Frank Rich directs on our complicity in the criminal and terroristic acts we commit, increasingly openly, and often indifferently if not proudly, in the name of democracy and our republic.

I do find it irritating, however, that he finds it necessary to summon the WWII-as-watershed-of-human-history analogy (which we Americans love because it's the best way yet we have hit upon to inscribe ourselves as history's winners and its heros; never mind the villainy we have come to perpetrate under this alibi), in order to drive home his indictment of our present conduct in the world. Irritating because I take objection to the special status to which WWII and its particular crimes and terrors have been almost universally accorded within the modernist project even by those who would not recognize themselves as adherents; and also appalling-- this because the exceptionalism of the claim (and I don't mean to single Rich out, but he does participate) tends to absolve us from the many other moral claims to which our nation's representations in the world and to us, its own citizens, should make it subject and accountable. 'Whatever remains of our country’s good name' indeed.

walkabout

if the last hot piss
had trickled down my thighs
some time, maybe days, before
and I'd stripped the sour chafing jeans
and my mouth was cracked and dry
and I found you in the desert
would you receive my kiss?

***

I set up a surreptitious tent
in the back garden
of a woman and her daughter
her daughter who dove
into a pool I could barely glimpse within, from without.
I hid but brought them jewels
to pacify in case they found me
trespassing.
There was a reason, something else I had to offer
and a cab, and I tried to remember which side of the road
and investors, people who would have made it all worth while,
but I had to return and fold up the grass mat or was it a futon
by now the morning was interrupting
and I was inventing characters, trying to make sense
return to oblivion, discover the secret
in fact there was tea, lovely tea, but
no way around the discovery of my shame.

****

27 October 1992-11 October 2006

What is to Be Done?

A year ago today, at this hour, I was on a plane coming home to New York. I'd been travelling for nearly a month in eastern Turkey and Syria, and had saved Istanbul for last, thinking that I'd be rewarding myself for the adventure with its cosmopolitan pleasures. Things turned out rather differently.

I went because it was as far as my frequent flyer miles would take me from JFK (I stretched by connecting with Turkish Air from Istanbul to Urfa on the way over) and because I had become uncomfortable with the growing gap between who I was at 16 (and I'm actually surprised and a little tickled to discover that I still retain enough of my paranoia and self-importance from the time to hesitate to name my activities) and who, decades later, I had become (about which I'm actually too boring and therefore and too embarrassed to elaborate).

Suffice it to say that by 1980, I might have known all the words to 'L'Internationale' and 'We Should Overcome' but by 2006 I couldn't have told you whether Iraq was majority Sunni or Shia, or which side my own government was taking, in my name.

I figured it was time to reconcile my ideals with my reality, and not being ready to settle down in a trailer in front of a tv, that left getting up and going over.

(I wonder, as I write this, how many American soldiers may have been motivated by something similar).

There is much more to say. Here is one statement about US engagement in the middle east that actually deserves a wider audience. My thanks to a new friend, for bringing it to my attention.

Democracy in the Citizen; or, President of the World

Everyone had their own particular reasons for despising Times Select and I've already noted that one of mine was the fact that it put Stanley Fish off limits. (Nicholas Kristoff, too). Since the velvet rope has been lifted, I've been chastened by his read on the Bollinger-Ahmedinijad match at Columbia, and now alerted to this great project, Why Democracy?. It's a rich site, almost overwhelming, and I have only viewed a couple of the projects to far, but you have to check out You Cannot Hide from Allah, and the trailer for Taxi to the Dark Side.

But with 241 responses and counting, I wonder if Professor Fish isn't contemplating the erstwhile comforts of a nice peer-reviewed journal, just about now.

Nah.

Murray Hill mayhem

Makes you almost nostalgic for the swaggering kids let loose from second rate universities, and the B&T crowd they will soon supplant. I guess I need to work out a guardianship arrangement for Ursa, and maybe some kind of id tag, in case our next walk ends in misadventure. I think we'll be staying in more often.



pedestrian killed by cab

pedestrians attacked with knives

Yokozuna?

I lost all my pictures from Japan in 2004 except this one, with Asashoryu, who was at the top of his game at the Fukuoka Kyushu Basho in November. The sport is so beautiful... and so ugly.

MASS mess

I hear there's more than one artist with an unregulated superego. It's their prerogative, isn't it? not to say cultural imperative. The quadrangulation amongst 1)the exhibiting organizations (typically non-profit entities such as museums), 2)their donors (often also collectors, see (3 & 4), 3)the artists and 4)their gallerists is a sordid business, and it's the workers--the employees of each of these public agents-- who sacrifice to maintain their employers' investments in social viability, avoiding lawsuits, nailing the reviews and upgrading clients and donors. In more or less that order.

In the end, though, you can sacrifice only so many starry-eyed (or zodiac-tattooed) interns, assistant directors picked ripe from Bard or the Courtauld, and professional cpas or fund raisers at the altar of your fascination with a romantic idea before the whole thing falls apart, in public. The artists do no more damage with their their exaggerated egos than do the organizations that indulge them, and in so doing betray the public trust. It's mainly the musea (can I say musea? it's my blog so yes I can. Thank you, Mrs. Vanneman) and other public venues that make the reputations and fortunes of the artists and their gallerists. They have a special obligation, both legal and ethical, but too often collapse in fascination with their own proximity to celebrity, whether contemporary or historical.

For all the hand wringing about the dangers of non-profits turning the reins over to business people, they can hardly be worse than the substantial class of presidents and senior managers who at some level share Mr. Thompson's aversion to basic measures to protect institutional assets--not least of which are the human assets-- as 'anathema' to their organizational cultures.

In my experience, the non-profit leaders most successful with their boards and their publics are frequently those who run the worst operations-- coddling underperforming employees in the name of 'institutional memory'; and sabotaging others charged with making changes that everyone sees are necessary for the fulfillment of the mission, but no one really has the stomach, or the other requisite organ, to see through.

I am told that the Dutch have a saying: 'Doe maar gewoon, dan doe je gek genoeg', or 'act normal, it's crazy enough'. This pretty much captures the ethos of a lot of not for profit organizations, that will always revert to the status quo. Why go to the effort to do better, if you can get away with less?

I better not get started on the Dutch.

What I brought home from the Farmers' Market today

1 bunch of green garlic
1 bunch of narrow leeks
3 small onions
5 small yellow and green streaked pattypan squash
1/4 lb of shiitakes
5 small heirloom tomatoes, because it won't last much longer, the season
I container of ricotta
1 cup of lemon basil tea (actually, I consumed it on the spot)
1 lb of grass fed minced beef, for the dog over the course of the week
2 dozen littlenecks, for me, soon
a mess of greens

I didn't get flowers as my Wednesday zinnias are still bright; and we're in between for fruit-- no more peaches, and early apples and pears are not that appealing. Some one had blueberries, but I doubt them this time of year, and I don't especially care for raspberries. Oh--loads of grapes, but the best ones, like scuppernongs, have bitter rubber skins, and the lychee inside clings to its pits, and I just don't enjoy the process. That said I bought some sliced and peeled cactus fruit on the way home, so perhaps there's no way around the sacrifice the changing season demands.

It was hot today, and crowded. I enter on the southeast side, from the subway exit on Park Avenue South and 15th Street, then make my way up past the mulchers on the left and the meat folks on the right, who are slow as mulch then never have bison hangar once they get to me, but do offer Ursa bits of jerky. Ursa hates crowds as much as I do and her tail goes down as we press on. I was looking for Yuno. Her stand has the freshest and most exquisite produce, and we chat about haircuts. I'll catch her on Wednesday, at Dag Hammarskjold, and ask why she wasn't at Union Square today. I ate her shishitos last night, and a few of the golden bite sized tomatoes left over from my Wednesday pint. As we head south on Broadway, the sun is in our eyes. I think about eggs from Knoll Crest but there's a line and my arms are growing heavy. There's a pork place with great bacon that's in my freezer right now, and occasionally they have just laid pullets, but not today. An unwitting fellow dog-accompanied marketeer stops to let his retriever greet Ursa, who shows him what's what (or rather, who's who) before I can pull her away. Corn is out of the question today; I have only two arms, and the pull of the lead in addition to the pull of gravity. Corn's getting awfully starchy lately anyway. I skip Ronnybrook, as I have been preferring the non-homogenized milk from Evans that I buy at Murrays Cheese. But Ronnybrook's glass bottles are the best. I actually remember having a tin box on the back patio, where milk was delivered, a creamy morning miracle.

New York green markets

Good night and veel geluk

The New Yorker sent an email to say that the lineup had changed and Ayaan Hirsi Ali could no longer participate in tonight's scheduled event. I'd seen the article saying that she'd had to return this week to Holland (as those icky people call it) and wondered. Ticketmaster refunded my purchase. Martin Amis and Ian Buruma are discussing now. I had a ticket for the conversation on Iraq with George Packer, too, but reversed the times, so when I thought Ali was cancelled, settled in for another hour before I realized. It was an fabulous double bill. I am suffering the loss, and myself as the loser.
Refugee from Western Europe

Conditions of Utterance

So Times Select has released
Stanley Fish.
I think he's right, despite my previous comments.
Unfortunately that means I am going to have to figure out
another career objective.