<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?>
<feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom">
    <title>The Utopian</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.the-utopian.org/" />
    <link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.the-utopian.org/atom.xml" />
    <id>tag:www.the-utopian.org,2008-05-09://1</id>
    <updated>2009-07-14T18:07:09Z</updated>
    
    <generator uri="http://www.sixapart.com/movabletype/">Movable Type 4.15b1-en</generator>

<entry>
    <title>Revolt and Repression: Iran on the Edge?</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.the-utopian.org/2009/07/000081.html" />
    <id>tag:www.the-utopian.org,2009://1.81</id>

    <published>2009-07-10T19:25:00Z</published>
    <updated>2009-07-14T18:07:09Z</updated>

    <summary>The Utopian in dialogue with Gary Sick, former member of the US National Security Council; Richard Bulliet, Professor of History at Columbia University; and Dr. Eden Naby, Iranian dissident and commentator.
</summary>
    <author>
        <name>Yascha Mounk</name>
        
    </author>
    
        <category term="article" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" />
    
        <category term="politics" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" />
    
    
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://www.the-utopian.org/">
        
        <![CDATA[<p><br />
<strong>Most observers struggle to understand the role played by different factions within Iran during the recent upheavals. Who was fighting whom?</strong></p>

<p><br />
<em>Gary Sick:</em></p>

<p>There are many different ways to look at the developments in Iran. One perspective that seems to have been ignored is what I regard as the cardinal role of the Revolutionary Guards.</p>

<p>Over the twenty years that Khamene'i has been the rahbar, or Leader, He has allied himself ever more closely with the Revolutionary Guards - to such an extent that it is no longer apparent to me who is leading and who is following. The Revolutionary Guards have been granted extraordinary influence over all functions of the Islamic Republic - military, political, economic and even Islamic. Technically, they take their orders from the Leader, but has he ever dared to contradict them? On the contrary, he seems always to court them by granting them ever-greater influence and responsibilities. [...]</p>

<p>[The military and economic roles of the Revolutionary Guards] combine to form an impenetrable core that arrogates to itself all authority in the Islamic Republic. Needless to say, it also provides tangible benefits to very specific groups: the Leader himself, who is thus promoted to a position not simply as first among equals but as the equivalent of an absolute monarch; the top leadership of the Revolutionary Guards, whose profitable dominance of all aspects of the government's operations is guaranteed; and the conservative politically minded clergy, who want a true theocracy with no meddling by those who are not properly anointed. The objective, quite simply, was to remove the "republic" from the Islamic Republic.</p>

<p>This is a formula for the kind of a militarized and nationalist corporate state under a single controlling ideology that is not dissimilar to fascist rule in an earlier day. Like fascism, it defines itself not only in terms of its own objectives but even more so by what it opposes: liberalism, individualism, unfettered capitalism, etc. There is no need to push the definition too far, since fascism tended to be specific to a particular time and set of historical circumstances. But the resemblance in nature and practice seems to justify use of the term.</p>

<blockquote>All is changed, changed utterly. What happens next is unknowable, but the Islamic Republic will never again be the same.</blockquote>

<p>[T]his perspective helps to illuminate some puzzling aspects of the current circumstances. Why did the regime resort to such a frantic manipulation of the vote when it was entirely possible that Ahmadinejad would have made a respectable showing - or possibly even have narrowly won - a fair election, and when the opposition in any event was devoted to the concept of the Islamic Republic as it existed? The answer may be that the corporate entity saw this election as one of the final steps in cementing its absolute control. Accepting the Islamic Republic as it is and not as they wanted it to be was simply unacceptable. The emergence of a relatively mild reformer - or even a substantial reformist vote - would undercut the kind of absolute authority that they were getting ready to assert. It would, in a word, complicate the coup that they were in the process of carrying out.</p>

<p>[W]here are the people of Iran in all this? Certainly they would be better off under a reformist government, rather than the smothering absolutism of the oligarchy. It was the brief glimpse of that possibility that brought them to the streets in the millions. They also sensed, as did the oligarchs, that there was a possibility that the existing regime would splinter and result in more humane governance.</p>

<p>The willingness of the corporate clique to brutalize the people they claim to represent has for the moment pushed the fire of revolt beneath the surface. But in Yeats' immortal words: All is changed, changed utterly. What happens next is unknowable, but the Islamic Republic will never again be the same.</p>

<p> <br />
<strong>Will the recent protests against the re-election of President Ahmadinejad have a lasting impact on the nature of the Iranian regime, then? Might this be the moment at which government by ideology is transformed into government by sheer power, as arguably happened in Hungary in 1956 or Czechoslovakia in 1968? </strong></p>

<p><br />
<em>Richard Bulliet:</em></p>

<p>The Iranian protest movement has focused on allegations of election fraud.  If those allegations are not addressed in some fashion, public confidence in elections as a means of effecting change will diminish, and some disillusioned individuals will undoubtedly decide that change can only be achieved through non-constitutional means.  If underground political activist groups form, the government will assuredly enhance its surveillance and repression capabilities.  Escalation in a contest between protest and repression could lead to more severe regime challenges some five to ten years from now.  However, this would be more reminiscent of what happened in Iran after the coup against Mohammad Mossadegh in 1953 than what happened in Hungary or Czechoslovakia, where the Soviet Union played a role that has no Iranian analogue.  Elections under the Shah were widely seen as farcical, and underground political movements and secret police repression grew proportionately.  The result was a revolution twenty-five years later.  Given today's means of communication, through which young Iranians have gained a much greater awareness of international norms of political and social life than their predecessors had in the 1950s and 1960s, and given the fact that the regime of the Islamic Republic of Iran (IRI) has no Great Power backing comparable to what the United States afforded the Shah after 1953 in the context of the Cold War, it seems more likely that a serious challenge would arise in well under 25 years. </p>

<p> <br />
<blockquote>Students and young people will be the easiest to repress...</blockquote></p>

<p><em>Eden Naby:</em></p>

<p>The question of "face" enters into the picture as does the fear of an increasingly disenchanted population.  The regime, especially Ahmadenejad, has lost face in the region and internationally. He, and the theocratic system that backs him, can no longer claim to speak for the people: they must resort to the "God's command as we absolutely know it to be" argument.  </p>

<p>Even within the dominantly Muslim region, this argument weakens Tehran, especially as coupled with the latent fear of Iranian hegemony supported on the "Arab street." Ahmadenejad in particular had gained a certain hero status for appearing to defy the West even in the Sunni Arab world. Largess from oil funds to Hezbollah and Hamas - one Arab Shi'ite and the other Arab Sunni - became part of this defiance. This basis for his popularity will diminish greatly if he is seen as the murderer of his own people. In part, Iran's nuclear stance is based on defiance. If the defiance stance is diminished - as it has been - then will the position of the Arab states and Turkey, who do not want a nuclear Iran, be strengthened?</p>

<p>In order to resume their path toward the bluster, if not the actuality of regional hegemony, the Iranian government must deflect the accusation that they are brutal and undemocratic. They are pursuing two paths to achieve this goal. First, they are blaming the UK, US and Israel - an old saw that they may not be able to pull off yet again. Second, they have begun the process completely to repress and send into their own form of "gulag" any and everyone involved in the opposition. </p>

<p>Who was involved and can they be repressed? There were three categories: students and young people; intellectual and non-bazaari middle class people; and members of Majlis, the Iranian Parliament.  The first category will be the easiest to repress: they can be "disappeared," forced out of universities and jobs, or executed after sham trials in which they confess to being foreign stooges. Their parents, the second category, will be terrified for their progeny and may be easily blackmailed into silence. The members of Majlis, 180 (out of 290) of whom begged off attending the inauguration of the re-elected president, will find it hard to escape punishment. Punishment may not be immediate, but slow elimination, starting with exclusion from the lists of those who can stand for the next legislative election, will take place.<br />
 <br />
 <br />
<strong>What, in your opinion, are the underlying causes for the recent protests? Are they primarily directed against perceived electoral fraud or was this merely the occasion for airing more fundamental grievances?</strong></p>

<blockquote>How will the government deal with these underlying grievances? Repression seems to be the only option.</blockquote>

<p><br />
<em>Eden Naby:</em></p>

<p>Electoral fraud appears to have taken place without much doubt - at least in the case of the Moussavi count in Tabriz, his home region. And if they manipulated electoral results in Tabriz, then they also did so elsewhere. Hence the chances are that if you took a poll of the middle class, they would doubt the authenticity of this election whether or not they themselves had voted for Ahmadenejad.</p>

<p>That said, there certainly has been an accumulation of grievances, especially among women and the parents of girls.  Keep in mind that the sudden decreed fecundity of Iranian women during the early 1980s has created many problems for the country. For whatever reason, 60% of university students are women. Given that the unequal position of women has been an overt issue over the past 2 years, underlying the dissatisfaction is the increased educational level of women and their lack of opportunity.  That women played a major role in the demonstrations represents this underlying and fundamental dissatisfaction. </p>

<p>How will the government deal with these underlying grievances? Repression seems to be the only option. Compromise has already been ruled out in the widespread arrests of women leaders this winter. </p>

<p><br />
<em>Richard Bulliet:</em></p>

<p>I don't believe that grievances against the regime as such were the primary driver in the election protests.  Given the absence of political parties and the role of the Guardian Council in vetting candidates for office, Iranian elections have not been free by international standards.  Nevertheless, they have hitherto been perceived in Iran as reasonably representative of the wishes of the voters.  Well established figures have occasionally lost elections, and lesser known individuals have sometimes won.  So the current challenge to the electoral process reflects an anger that is not easily reducible to a particular ideological stance.  Assuming that there was serious election manipulation, as several statistical studies have indicated, the rationale for deciding to interfere with the electoral process probably stems more from a concern over the changing profile of the electorate than over a concrete and specific ideological challenge.  After all, Mr. Mousavi, the person around whom most of the protestors rallied, has no credentials as an opponent of the Islamic Republican form of government.  In terms of the profile of the electorate, however, the baby boom generation of Iranians born during the Iran-Iraq War (1980-1988), when the regime was wedded to a pro-natalist philosophy and the country's fertility index was over 7 children per woman (as opposed to barely over 2 today), has now fully entered the electorate.  In ten years they will dominate the middle ranks of employment throughout the country.  </p>

<p>For many (though not all) Iranians of the slightly older generation who lived through the revolution and bore the brunt of the fighting against Iraq, these young people seem hedonistic, self-centered, and lacking in religious zeal.  The older cohort, particularly those who have benefited from veterans' preferences and involvement in the politically active branches of the armed forces (the Revolutionary Guards and Basij Corps), do not want to see their lives of sacrifice go for naught in a wave of popular Westernization.  This kind of clash typically takes place 25-30 years after a revolutionary change--compare Algeria in 1992, China under the Cultural Revolution, and the Stalinist purges after World War II--and it is also analogous to the conflict between America's generation of veterans and the hippie, antiwar counterculture of the 1970s.  In other words, the protests in Iran fit a pattern of generational conflict in which ideology as such is less important than the inevitable process of one generation aging and another pushing ahead.       </p>

<p><br />
<strong>Can an accommodation between hardliners and reformers be ruled out by now? Can we venture an educated guess about the outcome of the Revolution?</strong></p>

<p><br />
<em>Gary Sick:</em></p>

<p>Based on my own experience of watching the Iranian revolution and hostage crisis from the White House thirty years ago: don't expect that this will be resolved cleanly with a win or loss in short period of time. The Iranian revolution, which is usually regarded as one of the most accelerated overthrows of a well-entrenched power structure in history, started in about January 1978 and the shah departed in January 1979. During that period, there were long pauses and periods of quiescence that could lead one to believe that the revolt had subsided. This is not a sprint; it is a marathon. Endurance is at least as important as speed.</p>

<p>There may not be a clear winner or loser. Iranians are clever and wily politicians. They prefer chess to football, and a "win" may involve a negotiated solution in which everyone saves face. The current leadership has chosen, probably unwisely, to make this a test of strength, but if they conclude that it is a no-win situation they could settle for a compromise. The shape of a compromise is impossible to guess at this point, but it would probably involve significant concessions concealed behind a great public show of unity.</p>

<blockquote>They know how a revolt can be turned into a revolution. They also know they have everything to lose.</blockquote>

<p>Leadership is key. Ayatollah Khamene`i, the rahbar or Leader, has chosen - again probably unwisely - to get out in front as the spokesman of the regime. Unlike his predecessor, the father of the revolution Ayatollah Khomeini, he has openly taken sides with one faction over another. He is clearly speaking for the ultra conservative leaders of the Revolutionary Guards and their equally reactionary clerical supporters, who fear any possible threat to their dominant power. Curiously, President Ahmadinejad has largely vanished from sight, which adds to the impression that he is more of a pawn than a prime mover in this affair.</p>

<p>On the other side is Ayatollah Hashemi Rafsanjani, the erstwhile colleague and now principal antagonist of the rahbar. He has chosen, as he usually does, to stay behind the scenes as a master strategist, leaving the public field to Mir Hossein Mousavi and the other disappointed candidates and their followers.</p>

<p>The irony of two former colleagues now competing for power over the expiring corpse of the Islamic Republic that they created with such grandiose expectations, is lost on no one. The important subtext, however, is that these two understand very well what they are doing. They know how a revolt can be turned into a revolution. They also know they have everything to lose. The shared consciousness of high stakes has until now prevented an all out political confrontation between rival factions in the elite. That may help explain why the rahbar and the Revolutionary Guards were so reckless in their insolent contempt of the reformers and the public. They may have believed that no one would dare take it to this level.</p>

<p>Now that it has arrived at this point, both protagonists are faced with decisions of unprecedented gravity. There has been nothing like this in the thirty year history of the Islamic Republic, and today there is no Khomeini father figure to moderate and mediate among the warring factions. They must improvise in conditions of severe uncertainty. If anyone tells you that they know how this will turn out, treat their words with the same regard you would have for any fortune teller peering into a crystal ball.</p>

<p><br />
<strong>Can the United States have a positive impact on the situation in Iran?</strong></p>

<p><br />
<em>Gary Sick:</em></p>

<p>For the United States, the watchword should be Do No Harm. The situation in Iran is being exploited for short term domestic political purposes by those who have been looking for an opening to attack the Obama administration. Wouldn't it feel good to give full throated expression to American opposition to the existing power structure in Iran? Perhaps so -- but it could also be a fatal blow to the demonstrators risking their lives on the streets of Tehran, and it could scotch any chance of eventual negotiations with whatever government emerges from this trial by fire.</p>

<p>The crisis in Iran is an Iranian crisis and it can only be resolved by the Iranian people and their leaders. There is no need to conceal our belief in freedom of speech and assembly and our support for the resolution of political disputes without bloodshed. But we should not be stampeded by domestic political concerns into pretending that our intervention in this crisis could be anything but pernicious.</p>

<p>Can President Obama play chess as well as he plays basketball?</p>

<p><br />
<strong>The Iranian constitution combines theocracy with democracy. Could such a mix ever be stable?</strong></p>

<blockquote>"Israel may ... be seen as a model for a transitional Iran"</blockquote>

<p><br />
<em>Eden Naby:</em></p>

<p>The other theocracy/democracy combination is Israel. But the difference between the two is enormous:  Israeli theocracy extends deep into family law but less deep into political control of institutions. Agitation for change and modification does not draw down the wrath of god expressed by human hands. If anything, Israel may in fact provide the combination of theocracy and democracy that could be seen as a model for a transitional Iran.  </p>

<p>That would be ironic, wouldn't it, to have Iran's theocracy modeled on Israel? </p>

<p>Theocracy in one form or other still lingers in vestigial forms in many countries: but Saudi Arabia and Iran stand out as the worst exemplars. Moreover, the idealized theocracy, built into the educational systems, renders change difficult for people to understand because they have no opportunity to debate or realize there are alternatives. </p>

<p><br />
<blockquote>'The Supreme Leader is not far different from what we would have in the United States if we had only one Supreme Court justice'</blockquote></p>

<p><em>Richard Bulliet:</em></p>

<p>The Iranian constitution establishes a religious figure as the overseer of the political system.  Yet that religious figure is not a divinely selected Imam who is deemed to be infallible. Clerics popularly elected to an Assembly of Experts choose him.  More importantly, the dominant understanding of Islamic law in Iranian Shi'ism accords to the highest-ranking clerics the capacity to change or adapt religious law in response to current conditions.  Though the law is based on the Qur'an and the traditions of the Prophet Muhammad, it is not an immutable code, and the interpretation of it by contemporary religious jurists is considered provisional insofar as the only truly authoritative voice is that of the Twelfth Imam, who departed from human society over a thousand years ago leaving no sure indication of when he would return.  So what we have, in effect, is not far different from what we would have in the United States if we had only one Supreme Court justice.  </p>

<p>To sharpen this example, consider what the American political scene would be like if every proposal by President Obama would ultimately have to be approved by Justice Antonin Scalia, a supreme jurist appointed for life.  Whether the "governing jurist" (vali faqih in Persian) emerges from a seminary in Qom as a specialist in Shi'ite law or from Harvard Law School as a specialist in constitutional law is not all that important.  The U.S. Constitution can be amended, but only with difficulty; the same is true of Shi'ite law.  The ultimate problem, therefore, is not theocracy vs. democracy but democracy vs. juridical monarchy.  What this means is that the problems that are preventing the Islamic Republic of Iran from achieving a stable system come from the implementation of the founder's idea of a governing jurist, not simply from the idea of that jurist being religiously trained.  In other words, the IRI might achieve a workable democracy if the function of the governing jurist were shared by a panel of individuals, and if the Guardian Council, an institution stemming from Iran's Constitutional Revolution of 1906, were eliminated.</p>

<p><br />
<strong>Do the Reformers - and does Moussavi - hope to take theocracy out of Iran, or merely to reform it?</strong></p>

<p><br />
<em>Gary Sick:</em></p>

<p>Mir Hossein Mousavi, the presidential candidate who has come to represent the democratic aspirations of the Iranian people, issued a formal statement on June 21st. Although he denounces the "lies and fraud" of the leadership, particularly in the recent election, he views the fraudulent election as only as the symptom of something far more serious. He describes a revolution gone wrong, a revolution that was originally based on attention to the voice of the people but has resulted in "forcing an unwanted government on the nation."</p>

<p>This moment is "a turning point," he says, and he defines the " the movement that is forming around him of having a "historical mission" to accomplish nothing less than "renewing the life of the nation" according to its own ideals.</p>

<blockquote>No one knows where any of the parties are likely to go next. It is like standing on the edge of a glacier and feeling the ice begin to crack under your feet.</blockquote>

<p>He acknowledges, interestingly, that his own voice at the beginning was less 'eloquent' than he would have wished and that the people were ahead of him in turning the movement green. But now he accepts the "burden of duty put on our shoulders by the destiny of generations and ages"</p>

<p>He denounces both extremes of the political spectrum: those on one hand who believe that "Islamic government is the same as Tyranny of the Rightful;" and on the other, those who "consider religion and Islam to be blockers for realization of republicanism," i.e. those who believe that Islam and democracy are incompatible.</p>

<p>Mousavi says his call for annulment of the election and a revote, supervised by an impartial national body, "is a given right." The objective is nothing less than "to achieve a new type of political life in the country."</p>

<p>That is truly a revolutionary statement. He says he will stand by the side of all those seeking "new solutions" in a non-violent way. He accepts the principles and the institutions of the Islamic Republic, including the Revolutionary Guard and the basij, but denounces "deviations and deceptions." He demands reform "that returns us to the pure principles of the Islamic Revolution."</p>

<p>He calls for freedom of expression in alll its forms, and says that if the government permits people to express their views "there won't be a need for the presence of military and regulatory forces in the streets."</p>

<p>It is apparent from this statement that Mousavi's movement -- and Mousavi himself -- have evolved enormously in the past week. The candidate started as a mild-mannered reformer. After the searing events of the past several days, he has dared to preach a counter sermon to Khamene'i's lecture on Islamic government. Although he never mentions the Leader by name, there is no overlooking the direct contradiction of his arguments. This open opposition to the Leader by a political figure is unprecedented.</p>

<p>Mousavi has in fact issued a manifesto for a new vision of the Islamic Republic. The repression and disdain of the government has brought the opposition to a place they probably never dreamed of going. And no one knows where any of the parties are likely to go next.</p>

<p>But for outside observers, it is like standing on the edge of a glacier and feeling the ice begin to crack under your feet.</p>

<p><br />
<strong>Do you think it is possible for liberal democracies to exist peacefully alongside Islamic theocracies?</strong></p>

<p><br />
<em>Eden Naby:</em></p>

<p>No. These two philosophies are in opposition because Islamic theocracies cannot lose any argument when religion is their ultimate answer to any human rights, economic, social or political issue. In Shi'ism in particular, where interpretation of Shari'a can be done as a matter of routine by religious leaders, hopes for democracy are crushed when those leaders are backed by bullets.</p>

<p>Iran is now a very dangerous country. Having lost "face" and credibility inside the country, and in the region, it cannot risk compromise or any further loss of power for its current leaders.  It is hard to imagine any factors that would induce the Iranian regime to voluntarily give up power. These men, bloated with wealth acquired in 30 years of lining their pockets, do not share the kind of concern that the Shah had to not kill Iranians, especially after the catastrophe at Jaleh Square. Doing the work of God allows these men to kill with impunity - whether they are Ayatollahs giving the orders to shoot and bludgeon, torture and try, hang or make disappear or the fanatical minions represented by the basij. This situation makes Iran's ability eventually to produce a nuclear bomb even more unacceptable. Where would the regime stop in order to maintain itself and promote the word of God?</p>

<p><br />
<blockquote>I don't see Iran as a theocracy.  It is a constitutionally flawed democracy</blockquote></p>

<p><em>Richard Bulliet:</em></p>

<p>I don't see the IRI as a theocracy.  It is a constitutionally flawed democracy.  I am also suspicious of the term "liberal democracy."  It makes sense to contrast a "liberal democracy" with a fascist, communist, militarist, or other regime type that regularly holds bogus referenda to endorse the policies of the autocracy; but there is a long history of such pseudo-democracies coexisting with democracies that regularly hold free, fair, and credible elections.  The United States, for example, treats Egypt as a close ally even though there is nothing "liberal" about Egyptian elections.  So is the question whether the Islamic Republic of Iran can exist peacefully with a "liberal" United States? Or with an "illiberal" Egypt?  I would say that it can live peacefully with either, particularly if the flaws in its constitution are corrected.  On the other hand, if by "Islamic theocracy" you are talking about Saudi Arabia or the former Taliban regime in Afghanistan, I think there is a more serious question to be raised about long-term coexistence.  Yet again I would observe that the United States, a "liberal democracy," considers Saudi Arabia, an "Islamic theocracy" the best of friends.</p>

<p><br />
<strong>To what extent will the re-election of President A impact upon efforts to effect a rapprochment with Iran with respect to their nuclear programme?</strong></p>

<blockquote>I don't think it makes much difference who is President in Iran.</blockquote>

<p><em>Eden Naby:</em></p>

<p>Rapprochement with Iran has receded. Nuclear breaks through heavy sanctions are in order. But the door to dialogue cannot be closed. If the regime becomes repressive enough, some who sense an opportunity to benefit from the disrepute of the current murderers will succeed in rising from within the ranks of the ruling class. </p>

<p><br />
<em>Richard Bulliet:</em></p>

<p>The best achievable outcome in the nuclear arena is probably international recognition of Iran as a threshold nuclear power with a probable, but undeclared and untested, weapons capability.  The question, to my mind, is not how to keep Iran from continuing its uranium enrichment program, but how to persuade Iran that any manifest departure from its oft repeated denial of a nuclear weapons ambition--this means any test of a weapon--would not be in its interest.  I think a carefully calibrated relaxation of international pressure through diplomatic initiatives and selective removal of sanctions would be more effective than a ratcheting up of those sanctions.  If Iran were tacitly accorded the respect appropriate to its status as a threshold nuclear power, I think that the desire for a continuing improvement in international relations would prove more effective in staving off a weapon test than punitive sanctions that could backfire by rallying the nation behind nuclearization.  In this context, I don't think it makes much difference who is president in Iran.<br />
 <br />
 <br />
<strong><br />
<em>Gary Sick, a member of the US Security Council under the Ford, Carter and Reagan administrations, was the principal White House aide for Persian Gulf affairs during the Iranian Revolution and the hostage crisis.</em></p>

<p><br />
<em>Richard Bulliet, Professor of History at the Middle East Institute of Columbia University, is the author of numerous books about Iran and the Middle East.</p>

<p><br />
Dr. Eden Naby is a cultural historian of Assyrian-Iranian descent with a special interest in multi-ethnic settings in Muslim dominant states: Afghanistan, Iran, Turkey, Iraq.</strong><br />
 <br />
 </p>

<p>Interviews with Richard Bulliet and Eden Naby were conducted via e-mail. Texts by Gary Sick are drawn, with friendly permission, from his blog: <a href="http://garysick.tumblr.com/">gary's choices</a>.</em><br />
</p>]]>
    </content>
</entry>

<entry>
    <title>Sharia and Suburbia</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.the-utopian.org/2009/07/000080.html" />
    <id>tag:www.the-utopian.org,2009://1.80</id>

    <published>2009-07-09T20:15:37Z</published>
    <updated>2009-07-09T20:39:13Z</updated>

    <summary> 
&quot;Sharia is little threat to UK law.&quot;
 
An inside look at Sharia courts in England. 
 
</summary>
    <author>
        <name>Yascha Mounk</name>
        
    </author>
    
        <category term="article" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" />
    
        <category term="politics" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" />
    
    
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://www.the-utopian.org/">
        
        <![CDATA[<p>Number 34 Francis Road, London, looks much like 36 Francis Road. A converted terrace house, only the multilingual A4 notices pinned to the window indicate its purpose. Because here - beside Mick's Diner Café ("open 7 days"), opposite a large Sikh Temple and diagonally across the road from Christ Church Leyton - are the London headquarters of Britain's main Sharia court.</p>

<p> <br />
The British press in a full self-righteous battle-charge is a fearsome sight. Rarely, in recent years, have they been more self righteous - or more fearsome - than when discussing the issue of Sharia Courts. That Muslim religious courts exist in Britain at all, let alone in innocuous dwellings in leafy suburbia, is a shock to most. That they are also legal seems a self-evident outrage.</p>

<p> <br />
To many there is no better metaphor for a supposedly discredited policy of multiculturalism than that minorities can now impose their own law. If this can happen, then what does it mean to be British at all?</p>

<p> <br />
Dr Suhaib Hasan has more practical concerns. Inside his Francis Road offices, he is discussing the difficulties of observing Sharia - Islamic law - in the UK. "It is a real problem," he says, earnest suddenly behind a greying, scraggy beard. "The days are so long. Prayer times are connected with dawn and the disappearance of twilight, but sometimes twilight never disappears. Some say that we should combine two prayers at sunset, others that we must wait until midnight."</p>

<p> <br />
Dr Hasan, flanked by bookshelves of Arabic legal texts, gives the impression that he is happiest discussing these theological niceties. But, as secretary of the Islamic Sharia Council, he has other duties. Sitting in the waiting room outside his office is a middle-aged woman holding a toddler, accompanied by her female cousin and a bored teenage girl. Dressed in bright, formal, <em>shalwar kameez</em>, they are here - as with most visitors - to seek advice about divorce.</p>

<p> <br />
Speaking in Urdu, Mrs Khan (not her real name) explains her reasons for wanting to split with her husband - from whom she has been separated for two years. "He is a drug addict and he beat me," she says, as her turquoise-clad daughter yomps happily around the office. She claims that he has been imprisoned for domestic violence.</p>

<p> <br />
The next step, as far as the court is concerned, is to contact the husband. Afterwards, Dr Hasan explains that this is often the most difficult part. "She has no details - she says his own family disowned him. So we have only her word. We will put an advert in the local paper, and hope her husband responds. But I don't think she is lying, she is a simple woman."</p>

<p> <br />
Once they are satisfied that they have gathered all the necessary information, or at least as much as is possible, a file on the case will be presented - along with others from around the country - to a group of scholars at a monthly meeting in the Regent's Park Islamic Cultural Centre. They then have the power to decide the outcome.</p>

<p> <br />
Whilst the public debate around Sharia courts is coloured by images of stonings and hands being cut off, the practical reality in the UK is cases very similar to those of Mrs Khan. Since its creation in 1982, Dr Hasan's organisation has considered 7,000 divorces. In this respect it is similar to the long-established London Beth Din, a Jewish court based in Finchley that is consistently of less interest to the tabloid press.</p>

<p> <br />
But when Rowan Williams, the Archbishop of Canterbury, suggested in 2008 that the inclusion of some aspects of Sharia into UK law was "unavoidable" - that Muslims should not have to choose between "the stark alternatives of cultural loyalty or state loyalty" - he managed to create one of the most unlikely coalitions in recent political history. The Right joined with the Left, liberals with authoritarian, religious with atheists - all to oppose him. The Sun newspaper reported the story under the headlines "What a Burkha!" and "Bash the Bishop."</p>

<p> <br />
In reality, Sharia is little threat to UK law.</p>

<p> <br />
Most who apply to the Sharia Council are already divorced in UK law, or involved in civil divorce proceedings. That is a necessity. What the Islamic divorce adds, as with the corresponding Jewish divorce, is acceptance in their own community. It does not usurp UK law, because it has nothing to do with UK law. In some civil matters, such as financial disputes, the court has power to arbitrate - but only in the sense that a coven of witches would have the power to arbitrate, if both sides agreed to abide by their decision.</p>

<p> <br />
"There are many things that English law does not cover," Dr Hasan explains. "In Islam, there is a dowry amount attached to each marriage. It may be nominal, it may be exorbitant. If a man wants a divorce and has not paid it, we ask him to pay. If a woman wants a divorce, she must return it."</p>

<p> <br />
This problem has an analogue in UK law: Dr Hasan is effectively arguing for legally-binding pre-nuptial agreements. But he goes on to describe aspirations that come closer to the tabloid caricature of Sharia - lamenting a system that does not recognise marriage under 16, and arguing in favour of polygamy. "Many Muslims, including those in high positions, keep mistresses in hiding along with a legally wed wife. We say, what is better? To have a legally wed wife and a mistress, or a second wife? Mistresses are allowed, but second wives are not. Isn't it ironic?"</p>

<p> <br />
The Sharia Council is technically powerless. It would like to have enforcement powers, but with no official status, its authority comes solely from its standing in the community. During the course of an afternoon, I sit in on a succession of meetings with people discussing extremely personal issues. None of them knew I was coming, but equally none of them even questioned my presence - if the council trusted me, so did they.</p>

<p> <br />
The second appointment of the afternoon is a man, stubbly and in his late twenties. Accompanied by his brother, he wants a fatwa - a religious edict - to get him out of a predicament worthy of a daytime TV show. In a rage, three years ago he told his pregnant wife he divorced her. For men, that is all that is required to be separated in the eyes of Islam.</p>

<p> <br />
Now he wants her back. "I made a lot of mistakes in my life," he says, shuffling and looking down. "But I have changed. So long as Islam permits me to do this, then I want us to be together."</p>

<p> <br />
He claims she feels the same, yet there are problems. The first is, he said "I divorce you" three times. In Islam you are allowed to remarry someone, unless you have been divorced from them three times before: many scholars believe that repetition counts as consecutive divorces. Dr Hasan disagrees - issuing a written fatwa to that effect. "If I ask you: 'Bring me a bottle of water, a bottle of water, a bottle of water,' I mean one bottle, not three," he says. "This is one divorce."</p>

<p> <br />
The second problem is that his wife remarried - a quickie ceremony with a cousin in Pakistan to save face. They claim she can get a divorce, but want to know if it is a problem that her current marriage was never consummated. "She doesn't have to spend a night with that person?" his brother asks. "I need to take an answer to our family."</p>

<p> <br />
"No," Dr Hasan replies. "This is prostitution - you made the mistake by divorcing her, why should she suffer?"</p>

<p> <br />
In the angels-on-pinheads legalistic interpretation of Sharia, if someone does have three divorces from the same person, then that count can be reset if the wife remarries another man and divorces him. Because of this, there are stories of men ordering their ex-wives to marry someone for one night only. Dr Hasan is keen to avoid any implication that he is advocating this approach.</p>

<p> <br />
The Regent's Park Mosque is the largest Islamic Centre in Britain. More than a place of worship, it is a complex with meeting rooms, shops and a cafe. Even on a humid weekday afternoon, when we convene for the monthly meeting of the Council, it is busy - groups of young men, and women in hijabs, walking across the central courtyard.</p>

<p> <br />
The meeting is late starting. I wait in a slightly scruffy, stuffy, room, chatting to one of the scholars. An Egyptian lawyer, Hamdy El-Sawy chairs a Citizens' Advice Bureau, runs a travel agency and organises trips to Mecca for the Hajj. He also has the conversational skills of a good taxi driver ("I had Yusef Islam on my Hajj once, lovely man - Cat Stephens, you know...The Swedish ambassador as well, he said we were the best agency...").</p>

<p> <br />
As we chat about the perception of Islam in the West, he tells me a story about a visit to Cordoba, the city in central Spain dominated by a cathedral that, until the 13th century, was a mosque. "Standing in the middle of the Cathedral, my young son ran off. His name is Islam, and I shouted after him, calling him back. I suddenly realised I was standing in a disputed religious site, shouting 'Islam! Islam!'," he laughs. "I got some funny looks."</p>

<p> <br />
The other scholars are a collection of academics and imams with beards in various states of disrepair. Dr Hasan, the chairman, opens the session with the brisk sense of purpose of a parish council meeting. "If you will turn to case 3684," he says, quieting the room, and we begin.</p>

<p> <br />
The first few cases are fairly simple. Mainly wives abandoned by husbands - who have rarely even responded to the council's requests. The only debate is whether to send a final warning by recorded delivery, or grant the divorce then and there.</p>

<p> <br />
One husband, who has not seen or helped his wife for more than a decade, has ignored three letters from the council. There is discussion as to whether they should send him one final letter. The council president briefly stops chewing tobacco. "For 15 years he is not caring about his wife. What kind of a husband is he?"</p>

<p> <br />
The afternoon is hot, and by the second hour it is difficult to maintain concentration. Someone answers their mobile phone, and is reprimanded "I hope you will say that we told him off," the treasurer (he told me he preferred the title Exchequer) says.</p>

<p> <br />
The council deals with all UK Muslims - from Pakistanis to Somalis. This means that often the plaintiffs come from communities very different to the council's. In one case, a husband tries to mitigate his wife's accusations that he abandoned his family by arguing that someone has cast a spell on her - an allegation that the council treats with the careful cultural sensitivity, and studiedly lowered eyebrows, of a well-trained liberal social worker.</p>

<p> <br />
We come to case 4475, the largest file on the table. It concerns a Middlesbrough couple who have been married for 14 years, with three children.</p>

<p> <br />
The wife wants a divorce, claiming that her husband abused her and is a drug dealer. The husband counters, in a letter claiming that the wife committed adultery - with a drug dealer.</p>

<p> <br />
"All this is about the house, the money, living a westernised life. The whole Asian community in Middlesbrough knows the truth," the husband says in the letter. "I have no interest in divorce, unless she gives me full custody of the kids. I can safeguard their religion, future, life, behaviour, attitude. I will let them marry into good, respectable Muslim Pakistani families only."</p>

<p> <br />
"I still love and respect my wife," he later writes. "But I find it extremely difficult to trust her. She is my first love, my last love." One of the council seems convinced, sighing audibly - like he has just seen a puppy perform an endearing trick.</p>

<p> <br />
Others are less sure; the husband has, after all, refused to meet with the council's representative in Middlesbrough.</p>

<p> <br />
Working down the file, the wife provides a letter of support from a women's advice centre. "This means nothing, they always support the women: I should join Fathers4Justice," the Treasurer says, referring to a campaigning group where divorced men refused access to their children protest in superhero uniforms. "There is too much discrimination against men in this country." Dr Hasan gamely tries to move the conversation on, but Sheikh Haisan won't let him. "I'm pondering the injustice," he says - faux intransigent. One suspects this is a favourite topic of his, but it is also a welcome diversion as the afternoon gets hotter.</p>

<p> <br />
A pneumatic drill starts up. The case seems intractable. Atif, the office manager, suggests a solution would be to find out who is really the drug dealer. "Maybe we should send someone there to buy drugs, and see who is selling it," he says.</p>

<p> <br />
It is a good time to break for evening prayers.</p>

<p> <br />
I wait for them to finish in the cafe below. A cross between a school canteen and a kebab shop, it advertises itself as a venue for block-booking and parties.</p>

<p> <br />
After leaving the mosque, the council comes to eat. "There is a lot of misunderstanding about what we do," one of them says between mouthfuls of curry. "Sometimes I think people don't want to understand - but the media certainly don't help."</p>

<p> <br />
Earlier, I had tried to visit a similar organisation in Dewsbury, North England,. but the scholars there refused to speak to me - citing negative reports in the tabloids as the reason. "We received a lot of harrassment," they said. "Some of us have children, and we just don't need that. We now reject any media requests."</p>

<p> <br />
"Quite apart from anything else, it scares off the women; it might surprise you, but most of our work is helping women." There was a hint of bitterness in the last part of their answer, and reading the articles in question it is easy to see why. They describe "quasi-judicial religious zealots" ruling communities with "a rod of iron" and for whom "superstitious, barbaric, misogynistic...anti-female discrimination is part of their theology."</p>

<p> <br />
This clash describes the great contradiction in UK Sharia courts. The system is in many ways the antithesis of feminism. Men can divorce their wives by simply uttering the words "I divorce you", whereas women have to apply to a council of men - it is always men - and plead their case. And yet the work of the court itself is almost entirely on behalf of women who - short of abandoning their religion - feel they need its ruling.<br />
 <br />
 <br />
<em><strong> Tom Whipple is a journalist at The Times.</strong></em></p>]]>
    </content>
</entry>

<entry>
    <title>The Wolf in Sheep&apos;s Clothing: Italy&apos;s Left and the Lega Nord</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.the-utopian.org/2009/07/000082.html" />
    <id>tag:www.the-utopian.org,2009://1.82</id>

    <published>2009-07-09T20:14:58Z</published>
    <updated>2009-07-20T18:02:23Z</updated>

    <summary>&apos;The recent rise of right-wing populism in Italy has been frightening. Counterintuitively, only the Italian left can stop it.&apos;</summary>
    <author>
        <name>Yascha Mounk</name>
        
    </author>
    
        <category term="article" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" />
    
        <category term="politics" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" />
    
    
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://www.the-utopian.org/">
        
        <![CDATA[<p><br />
Umberto Bossi, the leader of Italy's right-wing Lega Nord, was triumphant. Wearing a bright green shirt, his glasses glinting in the glare of the June sun, he stood beaming at the cheering crowd which had gathered in Pontida for his party's annual gathering. Raising his arms, half to call for silence, half in exultation, he began to speak. '<em>Noi siamo indispensabili</em>,' he cried. 'We are indispensible.' The crowd roared in approval. They knew this was more than rhetoric. Bossi was - and is - right. The Lega - the populist party of immigration controls and barely-concealed racism - is now calling the shots in Italian politics.</p>

<p>The Lega Nord has been a member of Silvio Berlusconi's government since the 2008 general election. Until very recently, however, the Lega was regarded with some scepticism, and was treated with a certain degree of caution. This was not without reason. The Lega has been an unreliable and even dangerous member of previous Berlusconi governments. Claiming that the terms of their electoral pact had not been respected, the Lega dramatically withdrew their support and caused the collapse of Berlusconi's first government in December 1994. Despite this, Berlusconi knew that he needed them when it came to forming his fourth government just over a year ago. Only with the Lega's support could he command a majority. Yet when it came to policy, Berlusconi remained wary. The Lega were a necessary partner, but they were nevertheless a junior partner and many of their more extreme wishes were quietly pushed to the sidelines. Barely a month ago, however, everything changed. </p>

<p>On 6th June, Italy held elections for the European Parliament as well as for provincial and communal governments. Beset by scandals and shaken by controversies, the elections were a key test for Silvio Berlusconi's government, of which the Lega Nord is a member. Despite his recent upsets, however, '<em>il Cavaliere</em>' - as the flamboyant Berlusconi is known to Italians - had nothing to fear. It was, as Berlusconi himself declared, '<em>un successo nonostante le calunnie</em>' - a success despite the calumnies. Across the country, the parties of the centre-right swept the board.<br />
The results of the elections were seismic. In the European elections, Berlusconi's PdL (<em>Popolo della Libertà</em> - People of Freedom) gained 35.5% of the vote, up from 31.6% in 2004 (combined results for Forza Italia and the Alleanza Nazionale). In the administrative elections, the results were yet more impressive. The right had made massive gains. In those provinces and communes which they had previously administered, the centre-right succeeded not merely in retaining control, but even increased their share of the vote. No fewer than fifteen of a total of 62 provinces changed hands from the centre-left to the centre-right. </p>

<p>Most strikingly, Italy's so-called 'Red Belt', the central regions that have been the traditional home of left-wing politics since the glory days of Togliatti and the Italian Communist Party (PCI), shifted dramatically to the right. In Umbria and La Marche, the PD (<em>Partito Democratico</em> - Democratic Party) ignominiously slipped into second place. The province of Piacenza in Emilia-Romagna - a region in which the centre right has <em>never</em> held power at any level - elected Massimo Trespidi as governor with 52.77% of the vote, while Alessandro Ciriana seized control of Pordenone in Friuli-Venezia Giulia from the centre-left with an impressive 62.81% of the vote. In Florence and Bologna, the symbolic epicentres of the left's history, centre-left candidates failed to achieve an absolute majority at the first ballot, requiring a run-off to defeat their opponents. The centre-left, by contrast, made not a single gain. The PD was simply no-where to be seen.</p>

<p>Commentators rightly saw the elections as a ringing endorsement of Berlusconi's government. Despite all the recent scandals, the electorate had unequivocally endorsed his administration. But it was the Lega Nord which was the true winner. In the European elections, Bossi's party gained 10.22% of the vote and nine seats in Strasbourg, up from 5% and four seats at the 2004 elections. Indeed, this was the biggest share of the vote that the party has ever received in a nationwide election. In Lombardy, the Lega won 22.72% of all votes cast for the European Parliament, pushing the PD into third place. In the administrative elections, the Lega tightened its grip on provincial and communal government in the north. In Bergamo, in Lombardy, the Lega gained 35.44% of the vote and 14 seats in the provincial elections, making it by far the largest and most powerful party (the PdL gained 22.45%, while the PD managed a mere 15.51%). In the province of Padua, it gained 24.84% of the vote, only just behind the PdL's 27.52% and significantly ahead of the PD's 20.97%.  Extending its sphere of influence beyond its historic base in Lombardy and the Veneto, the Lega took 20.42% of the vote in the province of Novara in Piedmont, and won as many seats on the council as the PD. </p>

<p>The results of the 2009 elections effectively changed the balance of power within Berlusconi's governing coalition. The Lega has made the transition from being a potentially dangerous minor partner to wielding an influence which Berlusconi can no longer afford to ignore. Although it is notoriously difficult to extrapolate from the results of local elections, all the signs indicate that the Lega is building on the trends of recent years and is progressively strengthening its hold on northern Italy. With no obvious indications that this mounting base of support is likely to decline any time soon, and mindful of the devastating effect of the Lega's abandonment of his first government in late 1994, Berlusconi has been forced to recognise that his political future relies on maintaining good relations with Bossi and his party. In the harsh world of political realities, this means giving ground in key policy areas. As <em>L'Espresso</em>, a leading Italian weekly, put it, Bossi is now in the driving seat. </p>

<p>To outside observers, the growing power of the Lega Nord is cause both for fear and bewilderment. The Lega maintains an openly xenophobic platform which is given expression in frequently racist rhetoric and staunchly anti-immigration policies. An infamous and much-used campaign poster depicts a Native American chieftain with the slogan '<em>Loro hanno subito l'immigrazione - ora vivono nelle riserve</em>' ('They suffered immigration - now they live on reserves'). Recently, Bossi even proposed that the Italian Navy should open fire on boats carrying illegal immigrants to Italy. </p>

<p>However frightening the Lega's xenophobic policies may be, it would nevertheless be mistaken to suggest that the party's success should be attributed to a growth of racist attitudes in Italy. Commentators who have rightly highlighted the frightening implications of the Lega's growing influence for Italy's approach to immigration have erred in concentrating on its xenophobia when seeking an explanation for its rise. While there is no question that the Lega's racist pronouncements are a cause for profound concern, the party is something of a wolf in sheep's clothing. Its deeply unpleasant xenophobia is veiled by a broader package of policy proposals which have been carefully constructed to have wide appeal at a time when the left-wing PD is experiencing a crisis. Indeed, the results of the 2009 elections have more to do with economic policy and the disarray of Italy's left than anything else.</p>

<p>At present, Italy is struggling to deal with the effects of the global recession. While it may not be suffering from the rampant inflation and fiscal chaos to which is was so regularly prey in previous decades, ordinary Italians are feeling the pinch. Consumer price inflation is forecast to decline to 0.5% from an annual average of 3.4% in 2008, but there are widespread predictions of Italy's GDP shrinking by 4.6% in 2009 as a result of weak external demand. In April 2009, the Banca d'Italia recorded that exports of goods and services from Italy had shrunk by 21.7% since April 2008. Major Italian employers, such as Fiat are experiencing severe difficulties and further significant redundancies are expected, while Italy's banks are not only having to place restrictions on borrowing, but are also having to fall back on state support to preserve their capital base. The burden of taxation remains high and, in part as a result of high debt-servicing costs, is unlikely to be brought down in the near future. Italy's many part-time workers are worst hit. In February 2009, the salaries of those employed on a part-time basis were reported to have declined by 35.5%, while rents are rising slowly around the country. Despite much-vaunted investment in new employment agencies throughout Italy, government efforts to combat unemployment have been nothing short of a flop. Only 3.2% of people entering the working world find their jobs through state-run job centres, while 30.1% are hired as a result of family connections or through the intervention of a friend.       </p>

<p>These are the conditions which have traditionally favoured the left. Throughout the second half of the twentieth century, periods of particular economic strain in Italy tended to favour the left at the expense of the right. Coming during periods of unusually high inflation and economic contraction, for example, the old PCI and Italian Socialist Party (PSI) significantly increased their share of the vote in the elections of 1953, 1963 and 1976, while the centre-right Christian Democrats (DC) either lost support or failed to make any gains. Today, however, precisely the reverse seems to be true. </p>

<p>But there is yet more to the picture. Not merely is the Lega gaining support during a period of economic uncertainty, but it is gaining <em>most</em> of its support from former left-wing voters. This is far from being a new trend. At the 1992 general election (when it garnered 8.7% of the national vote), 25.4% of its supporters were previously Christian Democrats, 18.5% had been communists, and 12.5% had been socialists. The trend is, however, accelerating. As the results of the 2009 administrative election reveals, the Lega is enticing more left-wing voters than ever before into its fold.  </p>

<p>This is no coincidence. The deeply regionalist identity of the Lega Nord has left it well-placed to respond to such concerns. Since its foundation in 1991, the Lega Nord has consciously developed a brace of economic policies which an expression of its commitment to furthering the prosperity of the North. As Alberto Spektorowski has observed, one of the Lega's key beliefs is that 'the centralization of political authority and economic resources has both disregarded and harmed regional interests.' As well as seizing upon a long-standing opposition to statist bureaucracy - embodied in the epithet of <em>Roma ladrona</em>, or 'Thieving Rome' - this belief has given rise to a series of economic policies which are of a broadly left-wing nature. Umberto Bossi, himself a former Communist supporter, has explained that his party has strong socialist tendencies. In a recent article in <em>Corriere della Sera</em>, Dario Di Vico has pointed out that there are many respects in which the Lega has adopted the PCI's commitment to abolishing distinctions between socio-economic classes and opposing monopolist interests. In addition to advocating fiscal federalism, the Lega has come to support a social market economy and has loudly called for reform of the pensions system. As part of its emphasis on the need to put a stop to the waste of public money, it has advocated using a reduction in taxation to alleviate the financial burden on small and medium-sixed businesses, and the limitations on shop-floor employment.  In this way, the Lega has articulated many of the frustrations of left-leaning voters and in responded to the grievances aired in the Italian media for many years.</p>

<p>But while it has a history of attracting some support from the left-wing at elections, the Lega has struggled to make significant inroads at previous elections. Then, successful and effective left-wing parties succeeded in propounding policies which made it difficult for the Lega Nord to mark itself out as a viable alternative in the economic field. Recently, however, the situation has changed. As Italy has slid ever deeper into an economic crisis stimulated by the global recession, many Italians have naturally become fearful for their financial futures. Whereas in the past, the parties of the left were a natural rallying point for those with such fears, however, the PD has fragmented to the point at which it no longer appears able to offer meaningful solutions for a large number of Italians. <br />
Formed out of a number of smaller left-wing parties on 14th October 2007, the PD initially attracted a significant amount of support under the leadership of Walter Veltroni and - despite failing to win - garnered an impressive 37.5% of the popular vote at the 2008 general election in coalition with the IdV (<em>Italia dei Valori</em> - Italy of Values). Success was, however, short-lived. The growth of warring internal factions soon weakened the PD and the party was convulsed by internal squabbles over policies which struggled to broach the chasms which divided the party's constituent parts. By early 2009, the situation had become grave. On 16th February, after weeks of damaging public spats, the PD was humiliatingly crushed in a regional election in Sardinia. The following day, Veltroni resigned and was replaced by his deputy, Dario Franceschini.</p>

<p>Franeschini, like Veltroni, has found it increasingly difficult to bring the diverse factions of the party to consensus, especially on economic policy. Obstructed by the breadth of interests which it contains, the PD has found it almost impossible to agree upon a coherent set of policies which might address the mounting economic crisis and appeal to the fears of Italian voters. Since the publication of its '<em>Manifesto dei Valori</em>' ('Manifesto of Values') on 16th February 2008, the PD has not managed to articulate a single effective policy position in this area. The dignity of work, the need to overcome the clash between big and small interests, the desire for equality of opportunities, the idea of an open society, and the interdependence of enterprise and work have all been cornerstones of PD rhetoric for more than a year, but such notions express vague areas of general agreement between party factions rather than solid foundations for clear economic policies capable of safeguarding the financial future of millions of Italians. Attempts to transform these 'values' into a concrete platform have done little but cast both Veltroni and Franceschini into the midst of intense party rivalries.</p>

<p>The weakness of the PD has effectively created the political space for the Lega Nord's economic policies to gain support. Fearful of the mounting economic crisis, disenchanted by the PD and unwilling to back Berlusconi's PdL, Italian voters have sought refuge in the Lega. That is not to say that those who have turned to the party are in sympathy with its militant xenophobia, but that with few other alternatives, its left-leaning economic policies have come to seem increasingly attractive at a time when the future appears more and more daunting. </p>

<p>This, however, poses a problem. As Bossi observed, the growth of support for the Lega has made it an indispensible member of Berlusconi's government. In the wake of the 2009 elections, the Lega will exert a stronger influence on government decisions - particularly in those ministries run by its members - and Berlusconi will be less willing to rebuff the party's demands. Immigration is already being handled in a more aggressive fashion, and it is more than likely that the Lega's strengthened position will allow it to impose its often violently right-wing agenda on social policy. There is no doubt that this is cause for deep misgivings and there can be but few who would not look on such a prospect with anything but fear. But if the Lega are to be stopped, and Italy is not to slide into xenophobic legislation, the reasons for its success must be addressed. However counter-intuitive it may seem, the Lega must be challenged not on its racism, but on its economic policies. The sheep's clothing must, in other words, be removed for the wolf to be driven off. This can only be accomplished if Italy's left manages to outline an effective economic position. Despite the deep divisions which separate those in the party, the PD must realise that it is the only bulwark against the Lega and that it has to overcome the factional squabbles that are ripping it apart. Still reeling from the results of the election and with a party congress due to be held in July, Franceschini is no doubt anxious to gloss over party differences and to make the PD tent as big as possible. What is needed, however, is a firm line. If the PD is committed to ensuring a free and open society in Italy, as its <em>Manifesto dei Valori </em>declared, then  Franceschini must be prepared to risk dissent by pushing forward with clear economic policies which hark back to the strengths of the Italian left and which directly address the economic fears of the Italian people. If the frightening prospect of a more racist, more intolerant and more oppressive Italy is to be avoided, the PD must, like Danton, dare, dare again, always dare. </p>

<p><br />
Alexander Lee, co-founder of <em>The Utopian</em>, is an historian of the Italian renaissance, living in Northern Italy.</p>]]>
    </content>
</entry>

<entry>
    <title>Talking Heads 2: The New Europe?</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.the-utopian.org/2009/07/000071.html" />
    <id>tag:www.the-utopian.org,2009://1.71</id>

    <published>2009-07-09T19:44:22Z</published>
    <updated>2009-07-09T20:05:51Z</updated>

    <summary>Talking Heads 2: The New Europe? from The Utopian on Vimeo.

 Dr. Timothy Stanley, historian at the Institute for the Study of the Americas, University of London, discusses the recent European elections with Yascha Mounk, co-founder of The Utopian. Was the demise of left-wing parties and the rise of far-right parties a harbinger of the New Europe?</summary>
    <author>
        <name>Yascha Mounk</name>
        
    </author>
    
        <category term="in brief" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" />
    
        <category term="politics" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" />
    
    
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://www.the-utopian.org/">
        <![CDATA[<p><br />
<object width="250" height="187.5"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true" /><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /><param name="movie" value="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=5412917&amp;server=vimeo.com&amp;show_title=1&amp;show_byline=1&amp;show_portrait=0&amp;color=&amp;fullscreen=1" /><embed src="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=5412917&amp;server=vimeo.com&amp;show_title=1&amp;show_byline=1&amp;show_portrait=0&amp;color=&amp;fullscreen=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="250" height="187.5"></embed></object><p><a href="http://vimeo.com/5412917">Talking Heads 2: The New Europe?</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user1979550">The Utopian</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com">Vimeo</a>.</p></p>

<p><strong><em> Dr. Timothy Stanley, historian at the Institute for the Study of the Americas, University of London, discusses the recent European elections with Yascha Mounk, co-founder of <em>The Utopian</em>. Was the demise of left-wing parties and the rise of far-right parties a harbinger of the New Europe?</em></strong></p>]]>
        
    </content>
</entry>

<entry>
    <title>Fear and International Politics</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.the-utopian.org/2009/07/000079.html" />
    <id>tag:www.the-utopian.org,2009://1.79</id>

    <published>2009-07-09T18:46:07Z</published>
    <updated>2009-07-09T20:18:40Z</updated>

    <summary> 
Knowing what (not) to be afraid of.
 
On the limits of political alchemy from Thucydides to Bush.
 
</summary>
    <author>
        <name>Yascha Mounk</name>
        
    </author>
    
        <category term="article" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" />
    
        <category term="politics" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" />
    
    
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://www.the-utopian.org/">
        
        <![CDATA[<p> <br />
Fear is not only a potent force in international relations today - it has a distinguished pedigree in the study of international politics. </p>

<p> <br />
Thucydides' history of the Peloponnesian War, often claimed (perhaps dubiously) as a precursor to modern political science, sets forth the famous trilogy of motives said to compel states both to their imperial heights and bring them to their inevitable debasements: fear, honor and interest. But fear, not glory or gain, is the leitmotif of the untitled narrative. Thucydides deems Spartan alarm at Athens' blooming maritime empire to be the "truest cause" of the twenty-seven year war that tore Ancient Greece to shreds. His Athenian characters argue that their empire was driven not by pecuniary motives but fear, and others would have acted identically. Little wonder, then, that this two and a half millennia-old account of a regional conflict resonated so sharply in the panic-gripped America of the Cold War, fixated on a quasi-Spartan adversary, an autocratic land-power with opaque internal workings and disdain for the individual. It was the terrifying thought of Sputnik and spies that propelled Americans to fling men and materiel across the globe over the subsequent decades. </p>

<p> <br />
The English philosopher Thomas Hobbes, who was enamored with Thucydides' political sensibility (and undertook a translation himself), imported wholesale that tripartite psychology. In <em>Leviathan</em>, he argued that of the "three principal causes of quarrel", fear was "the passion to be reckoned upon". But demonstrating the state of nature's full depredations - the poverty, the brutishness, and the whole train of now-hackneyed horrors drawn from the contemporary English Civil War - required invoking politics between polities, the lawless condition in which states dealt with one another. His theoretical edifice pivots on what would later be dubbed the "security dilemma". In the absence of a world sovereign, actions undertaken by one state in its defense are indistinguishable from those directed at harming another, prompting the smallest of disturbances to erupt into an unstoppable arms race.</p>

<p> <br />
This notion of a perpetual standoff reached its apogee with the generation of mathematicians-cum-Cold Warriors who drew on game theory to generate lessons for American nuclear strategy. Perhaps most famously, the Nobel Prize winner Thomas Schelling sketched out in the 1950s an extreme form of this dilemma. This was the perverse logic of the "reciprocal fear of surprise attack". "If I go downstairs to investigate a noise at night, with a gun in my hand, and find myself face to face with a burglar who has a gun in his hand, there is danger of an outcome that neither of us desires", since the fear of each that the other would preempt the fear of his opponent would catastrophically multiply. Only a few years later, Soviet rockets would be placed ninety miles from the American mainland, and the academic formalization of fear in fiendishly complex models of political choice would become commonplace. </p>

<p> <br />
It is this near-dystopian intellectual tradition, devoid of trust and suffused with danger on a local and global-historical scale, on which the contemporary study of international politics rests today. For many years, the benchmark theory of international politics was that of Kenneth Waltz. Labeled "Neorealism", it spat out two major hypotheses: balances will form, and certain types of balances - above all, multipolar ones - are prone to war. Its notability lay in its parsimony. Whether through alliances or arms buildups, states would balance against those more powerful, regardless of their apparent intentions.</p>

<p> <br />
In a seminal article published in the heady days of 1990 titled "Back to the Future", John Mearsheimer (perhaps now more notorious for his co-authorship of the <em>Israel Lobby</em>) pushed this theory to its limits, arguing that "the prospects for major crises and war in Europe are likely to increase markedly if the Cold War ends". For half a century, America's fear of a Soviet-dominated heartland fortuitously led it to suppress the plethora of fears that had bled the continent dry. Germany was protected from the USSR, France and others from Germany, and these interlocking arrangements were formalized in a grand military alliance built from the start on Senator Vandenburg's exhortation that Truman "scare the hell out of the American people". (By mid-1946, this was superfluous anyway: they were already petrified).  One of Mearsheimer's scenarios portrayed the "Balkanization of Europe" in which a reunified Germany, absent its American counterweight, would threaten Poland, Czeschoslovakia and Austria. A lumbering, potentially nationalist, Germany would seek nuclear weapons to protect itself from a conventional Soviet attack, and the established nuclear powers could launch either preventive or first strikes. </p>

<p> <br />
This dark, even absurd, vision stemmed from the indiscriminate application of the logic of balancing, shorn of Thucydidean nuance.  In reality, states patently balance not against the fact of power, but its potentially threatening use. This is not unrelated to power's physical properties, such as proximity and deployment. But it is even more to do with idiosyncratic assessments of intentions. This is the true limitation of the academic study of international politics: political science has been largely unsuccessful in explicating what states do and do not find threatening. We have no "theory of fear".</p>

<p> <br />
Perhaps in part as a result, the relationship between the study and practice of international politics has been tenuous at best. The last US Secretary of State, Condolezza Rica, was an expert on the Soviet Union. She famously drew upon her intellectual reserves to state that she was proud of invading Iraq "especially as a political scientist, not as Secretary of State, not as National Security Advisor, but as somebody who knows that structurally it matters that a geostrategically important country like Iraq is not Saddam Hussein's Iraq, that this is a different Iraq under democratic leadership". </p>

<p> <br />
Rice's remarks were hardly unscholarly. The discipline really has long claimed that, as a general rule, democracies do not go to war with each other in part because they are not afraid of one another (though few scholars would agree on the reasons for this). If Woodrow Wilson spoke of making the world "safe for democracy", then one (perhaps charitable) reading of the Bush Doctrine was that it aimed at making the world safe <em>with</em> democracy, an awesome and blood-soaked attempt at democracy's selective implantation in a corner of the Middle East. Rice's comments, in other words, are predicated on the notion that autocrats are inherently more threatening to the US than democracies - that we ought to be more fearful of their intentions because of reasons innate to their character.</p>

<p> <br />
It is an outstanding historiographical puzzle as to which of Thucydides' three motives drove the events of 2003, but what is certain is that in 2005, 64% of Americans continued to believe that Saddam Hussein had strong links to Al Qaeda. Their overwhelming preference for violent "balancing" is unsurprising: in their case, we can safely surmise that support for the Iraq war was based on politically mobilized fear. Like Truman before him, Bush had scared the hell out of the American people. They came to resent this. We would do well to remember that in the early days of his presidential campaign the now-fading trope of "hope", insufferable and invigorating in equal measure, represented a backlash against what Obama was calling the "politics of fear".</p>

<p> <br />
What are we afraid of today - and how can we coolly analyse whether our current fears are well-grounded? The cesspool of international politics offers relatively bottomless supplies of things of which one might easily be scared, though it is difficult to evaluate whether one really should be scared. We have been told with some regularity that the Taliban are poised "sixty miles from Islamabad", that North Korea's new missiles can reach the American mid-west, that Israel is preparing to send nuclear-tipped missiles burrowing into Iran, and the suchlike. Perhaps the biggest elephant - or, rather, dragon? - in the room is the rise of China, reminiscent of Thucydides' reflections on the "truest cause" of his war: "The growth of power of Athens and the alarm which this inspired in Sparta". The analogies fit imperfectly, although like America and the USSR, and America and post-1971 China, Athens and Sparta had previously cooperated to see off a common enemy (the Nazis, Soviets, and Persians respectively). </p>

<p> <br />
The American strategic community's occasional paroxysms of fear (you will recall the coming Japanese hegemony of the 1980s) do often subside without causing conflict. But fear is the most visceral of motives, not always subject to placid scrutiny. We abjectly lack any objective way of knowing when fear is warranted, and when it feeds either on itself or the self-serving motives in whose service it has been cynically yoked. The very premise of the academic study of international politics should be to overcome this dangerous limitation.</p>

<p> <br />
In the not-too-distant glory days of the Bush administration it seemed as though the partisan use of fear was a potent form of political alchemy. We now know that political alchemy, too, has its limits. But they are limits which are imposed by human actions, not natural laws - and that a better understanding of the role of fear in international politics is a first step towards safeguarding them.<br />
 <br />
    <br />
 <em><strong>Shashank Joshi researches the role of fear in international relations at Harvard University's Department of Government.</strong></em></p>]]>
    </content>
</entry>

<entry>
    <title>Bears</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.the-utopian.org/2009/07/000078.html" />
    <id>tag:www.the-utopian.org,2009://1.78</id>

    <published>2009-07-09T18:15:42Z</published>
    <updated>2009-07-09T18:41:26Z</updated>

    <summary> 
Fear and Loathing; Cabs, Book Readings and Bears.


 A short story.
  
</summary>
    <author>
        <name>Yascha Mounk</name>
        
    </author>
    
        <category term="article" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" />
    
        <category term="culture" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" />
    
    
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://www.the-utopian.org/">
        
        <![CDATA[<p>"Here's one for you," the driver said as soon as the taxi door had closed. "If you're standing in a house, and every window faces south, <em>what color bear are you looking at</em>?" <br />
 <br />
I was caught off guard; it seemed to me late in the day for riddling. But I stifled a sigh and marshaled my meager resources. <br />
 <br />
<em>If you're standing in a house, and every window faces south, what color bear are you looking at? </em><br />
 <br />
I know next to nothing about geography, but it seemed clear that the riddle dealt with a geographically anomalous zone. Probably a pole. Which meant... <br />
 <br />
"A polar bear?" I suggested. <br />
 <br />
"What <em>color</em> bear?" he repeated, clearly disappointed. <br />
 <br />
"Oh. White." I said. He sighed, deflated. <br />
 <br />
"Yes." He said, and we drove in silence for a few minutes. <br />
 <br />
"What have you eaten in the way of exotic meats?" he asked after a while. <br />
 <br />
"Let's see," I said thoughtfully. "Ostrich, alligator, elk, bison...I guess venison doesn't count, does it?" <br />
 <br />
"Oh, it counts all right," he said with suppressed violence. "I count it. So you've never had bear? Moose? <em>Bear?!</em>" <br />
 <br />
"No," I said. "Is it good?" <br />
 <br />
"Bear?" he barked. "It's the worst damn thing I've ever tasted! That is," he amended. "<em>Grizzly</em> bear is. Tasted like it was raised on garbage. <em>Brown</em> bear, now, isn't so bad. It's greasy, of course, but I grilled it up and it wasn't so bad. You have to grill bear," he added instructively. <br />
 <br />
"I guess Indians ate a lot of bear," I ventured. <br />
 <br />
"You bet!" he said. "You bet they did! I've had lots of animals. Squirrel, muskrat, bear, elk, bison....oh, just about everything you can eat, I guess." <br />
 <br />
"Raccoon?" I asked. <br />
 <br />
"No, I've never had raccoon." He sounded deflated again. <br />
 <br />
"Well, talk about tasting like garbage!" I said helpfully. <br />
 <br />
"You've had raccoon meat?" he asked resentfully. <br />
 <br />
"Well, no, but I see what they eat. The raccoons get into our garbage all the time. Do you hunt?" <br />
 <br />
"No, I don't. The fishing shop where I buy tackle sells exotic meats. I tell them, 'I'll try whatever you get in!' And they save some for me." <br />
 <br />
"Oh. Well, you certainly have had a lot of meats," I said. We lapsed into silence again. <br />
 <br />
"Ever had whale?" I said after a while. <br />
 <br />
"No," he admitted, "but I have a friend who has," he added hastily. "It's illegal to eat it, but he used to eat it when he was a kid. Said it's tasty - firm, like tuna, you know? A little rubbery." <br />
 <br />
"That sounds about right," I said. "I guess once the blubber's been scraped off, it's really fairly lean." <br />
 <br />
"Maybe," he said. <br />
 <br />
"I've been cooking a lot these days," he volunteered. <br />
 <br />
"Do you enjoy it?" I said. <br />
 <br />
"Well, I don't have much choice," he said. "My wife passed away six months ago. I was doing the cooking, the housework, for about six months before that, too. I like it all right now. I'm experimenting a little bit, now." <br />
 <br />
"I'm sorry," I said. <br />
 <br />
"Yeah, well," he said. There was a prolonged silence. <br />
 <br />
"Did your wife ...enjoy different meats?" I said tentatively. <br />
 <br />
"She liked the venison," he said, "and she ate, you know, beef and chicken. Veal. I think she tried the wild turkey. She wouldn't try the bear, though." <br />
 <br />
"From what you tell me," I said generously, "that was a smart move!" <br />
 <br />
"What?" he said blankly. <br />
 <br />
"Not eating bear," I clarified. "You said it tasted like garbage." <br />
 <br />
Silence. <br />
 <br />
"I hear you can get meats now on the internet - clubs, that send you different kinds." He told me as we pulled off the parkway. "I'd do it if I were you. Nice to get something in the mail. My wife used to order from...Home Shopping Network. QVC. Dolls, all kinds of things. You know?" <br />
 <br />
"I do," I said. <br />
 <br />
"A doll came in the mail yesterday," he said. "Real fancy. Lace, pearls, everything. I thought it was meat for a second there," he added. "But it was a doll. Nice to get packages, you know?" <br />
 <br />
"'Brown paper packages, tied up with string,'" I ventured lamely. He ignored me. <br />
 <br />
"Gives you a little something to look forward to," he said. <br />
 <br />
 <br />
 <br />
 <br />
When I arrived at the reading the bookstore was almost full. I could see Basil Kirkstein, the wunderkind author, milling around near the podium, talking to some organizers. I craned my neck to get a look at the crowd, and waved and smiled to a couple of college literati I knew and one very earnest girl in my Shakespearean Theory class. Lots of late-middle aged neighborhood types carrying library tote bags, a few professors. <br />
 <br />
Basil Kirkstein was small. He was wearing a dark suit. I studied him covertly, wondering idly if I could get him to fall in love with me. Basil Kirkstein went to the podium then, smiled in an ingratiating fashion and started talking in a rather urbane way. <br />
 <br />
"So, the publisher gave me all these shirts," he said in a self-deprecating way, displaying a tee shirt with "Little Circles" written on it and the words "A masterpiece!" in quotations. <br />
 <br />
"Obviously, I can't wear this," he said, indicating the quotation to general laughter, "so I'm trying to think of creative ways to get rid of them. Here's the deal: if anyone asks me a question I <em>refuse</em> to answer, you get a shirt. I give you fair warning, this has only happened twice - but there <em>are</em> things I won't talk about!" <br />
 <br />
Well, that wouldn't be too hard, I thought irritably. He probably won't talk about how much money he's made, or something. And maybe his love life. But who wants that ridiculous shirt, anyway? In the grand tradition of free shirts, they were all enormous. <br />
 <br />
"So, I'm going to read a little bit for you," he said, "but only a little bit, and then we'll talk - that's what I really enjoy." <br />
 <br />
He read three very long passages: a funny part, a sad/ heartwarming part and some other part of indeterminate characterization. His reading was only okay, not how I'd imagined it when I read <em>Little Circles</em>, to the extent I had. "I just sort of put in the humorous part to entertain people - it's not really where my heart is," he parenthesized at one point. What nonsense, I thought. The funny parts were the best thing in the book. <br />
 <br />
When he had finished reading, everyone applauded and some hands shot up immediately. An elderly woman asked something about his approach to his craft. <br />
"I regard writing merely as a means of transport," he said. "The process of writing is to me incidental. The vessel, as it were. It could be painting, or acting, or any form of self-expression. The point is to reach the <em>destination</em> of moral clarity." <br />
 <br />
The girl from my Shakespeare class, quivering with earnestness, demanded to know whether he regarded his work as meta-fiction, and what were his opinions of meta-fiction as a genre? <br />
 <br />
He responded with, I thought, inappropriate irritation. <br />
 <br />
"My work is <em>not</em> meta-fiction," he replied coldly. "And I don't feel competent to comment on meta-fiction." He turned his attention away abruptly, and the girl looked crushed. <br />
 <br />
"The cover of your book looks like the Yin and the Yang," said a moron. "Is it supposed to look like that, and what are your opinions of eastern philosophy, and what do you think about world peace in our lifetime?" <br />
 <br />
He laughed a little bit, but more at the enormity of the question than its stupidity. No, the cover had not been intended to evoke the Yin and the Yang, but he liked that people could see different things in it. He was no student of eastern philosophy, but he found it fascinating and hoped to get into it in a big way. He couldn't predict world peace with any kind of authority (and the last administration had done its best to prevent it - applause), but he devotedly hoped that with mutual understanding and respect things could improve, and such-and-such an author had just written an amazing anti-war tract we should check out. He was much nicer than he had been about the meta-fiction question, and I was annoyed. Really annoyed. In fact, I hated him. My hand shot up. <br />
 <br />
"You, in the glasses," he said, pointing to me. <br />
 <br />
"Building off of the last question," I said coolly, and wishing he hadn't referred to me that way, "If you're standing in a house, and every window is facing south....what color bear are you looking at?" <br />
 <br />
"Excuse me?" he said blankly. <br />
 <br />
"If you're standing in a house, and every room faces south," I said more loudly, beginning to feel an ass, but brazening it out, "what color bear are you looking at?!" <br />
 <br />
"What color bear...?" he said again. There was silence. <br />
 <br />
"Give her the shirt!" someone shouted, and several voices added their endorsement. <br />
"No, hang on," he said. ("Give her the shirt!" said the same voice.) "I said questions I <em>wouldn't</em> answer, not riddles that stumped me." <br />
 <br />
"All right, what color bear?" he finally asked, in irritation. A bunch of people shouted "white!" and I didn't have to say anything. I tried to look jaunty. <br />
 <br />
The worst part, of course, was that I'd already bought my book, and I figured I had to get it signed for my friend David, a <em>Little Circles</em> enthusiast. My tension mounted as the line shortened. When it was my turn, I handed him the book and said, "to David, please." At least he would know it wasn't for me! Basil Kirkstein bent his head over the book. <br />
 <br />
"I...I'm sorry about that bear question," I said timidly. <br />
 <br />
"That's okay," he muttered, without looking up. <br />
 <br />
It was very clear he was not in love with me. <br />
 <br />
 <br />
<strong>Sadie Stein, an editor at <a href="http://jezebel.com/">Jezebel</a>, is a writer living in New York.</strong></p>]]>
    </content>
</entry>

<entry>
    <title>The Evaluation of Space, Part II</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.the-utopian.org/2009/07/000077.html" />
    <id>tag:www.the-utopian.org,2009://1.77</id>

    <published>2009-07-09T18:00:55Z</published>
    <updated>2009-07-09T18:44:56Z</updated>

    <summary> 
Oliver Griffin demonstrates how the world we live in is reappropriated through activity, challenging our often disquieting perceptions of urban space.
 
</summary>
    <author>
        <name>Yascha Mounk</name>
        
    </author>
    
        <category term="article" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" />
    
        <category term="culture" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" />
    
        <category term="photography" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" />
    
    
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://www.the-utopian.org/">
        <![CDATA[<p><iframe src="http://www.the-utopian.org/galleries/the_evaluation_of_space_part_ii.html" frameborder="0" scrolling="no" width="600px" height="700px"></iframe></p>

<p><strong> The Face of (His) Time - On Oliver Griffin</strong></p>

<p>By Alexander Lee <br />
 </p>

<p>'I am a camera with its shutter open, quite passive, recording, not thinking,' wrote Christopher Isherwood. In his <em>Berlin Diary</em> (1930), Isherwood attempted simply to depict the Berlin he saw and experienced in the heady days before the rise of Nazism. The seedy underground clubs, the bustling cafes, the peculiar, often eccentric characters were set down without comment, approval or opprobrium. The image of the impassive camera which Isherwood chose to encapsulate his literary approach was thus telling. The camera - analogue, manual and, at that time, physically cumbersome - was seen as an open eye, a lens on the spaces and patens of life which could neither manipulate nor deceive. For Isherwood, it was the fact that it was an unflinching tool to engrave his world as it was that made it the perfect model for his literary project. This, indeed, was a perspective which was shared by Isherwood's Berlin contemporary, the photographer August Sander. In <em>The Face of Our Time</em> (1929), Sander exploited the impassiveness of the camera to capture the people around him. 'Like a footprint or a death mask' (to use Susan Sontag's words), his portraits were an imprint of everyday life preserved without comment: sometimes official, sometimes glamorous, sometimes gnarled and work-work, the figures in his photographs - like the characters in Isherwood's <em>Berlin Diary</em> - appeared as in life, and the photographs themselves became transparent windows rather than malleable images.</p>

<p>      Isherwood and Sander's conception of the camera embodied not a form of realism as such. Their approach was at some remove from, for example, Zola's naturalism, which sought a believable everyday reality, but succeeded only in creating images of subjective impressions that shaded off into a perverse idealism. Rather, Isherwood and Sander saw the camera as a documentary tool. Neither making assumptions about the nature of everyday reality, nor seeking to judge it, they each saw the camera as a means simply of recording, archiving, classifying. In one sense, this idea of the camera was deeply impersonal and consciously objective. In another sense, however, this same objectivity succeeded in transforming the work of Isherwood and Sander into profoundly personal and intimate pieces. Although the instrument itself was impersonal, it offered an insight into a world which the author or photographer himself experienced, a chance for the viewer to see through another's eyes, an opportunity to re-evaluate how we ourselves encounter our surroundings.</p>

<p>      The advent of digital photography has to some extent altered the image of the camera. Rather than being impassive and objective, the camera is now commonly viewed as just another means to distort and adapt reality, a part of the cult of the shifting image in a consumerist culture. Manipulated, touched-up, stretched and retoned, the photograph is no more a representation of reality than a Hollywood film. The personal and the intimate, as well as the objective and the impersonal are often submerged beneath the swirling waters of unstable images.</p>

<p>      In <em>The Evaluation of Space</em>, however, Oliver Griffin returns to notion of the camera employed by Isherwood and Sander. Preferring the analogue and the manual to the digital, Griffin consciously documents the spaces and objects that provide the context of - and thus the parameters for - his life. As in <em>The Face of Our Time</em> (and also, to some extent, as in the work of Wolfgang Tillmans) there is neither any attempt to distort the reality captured, nor any effort made to comment on what is shown. The effect is arresting and directly challenges the viewer's relationship with urban space and urban life. In many of the photographs, Griffin captures images of his use of carparks for BMX flatland riding. These functional urban spaces, the very model of everyday modern and postmodern life, are subverted and thus both reappropriated and redefined by the activity. In capturing this experience impassively, Griffin thus provides and intimate and personal portrait of his own experience of reclaiming the urban environment and reclassifying the parameters of behaviour intrinsic to the notion of urban space. In other photographs, suburban housing is captured with a similarly impersonal eye, and the effect is equally disquieting. The houses shown are boring, unexciting, profoundly uninspiring, and deliberately so. They are not shown as participating in a wider consumer culture, nor depicted as echoes of aspirations, but recorded in all their humdrum domestic reality. We are literally peering through the windows. As the context for everyday life, such intimate photographs force the viewer to look beyond the world of image and into the realities of both urban space and urban life. The immediacy and objectivity compel us, in other words, to re-evaluate how these everyday spaces define our lives and our behaviour. The documentary approach, which both records and classifies, engenders a stark and sometimes unsettling reflection that, while bordering on the scientific, is inescapably personal both for the artist and for the viewer.</p>

<p>      Reaching beyond the postmodern obsession with the image, Griffin's <em>The Evaluation of Space</em> is a return to the idea of the artist himself as a camera. The choice of analogue and manual photography in preference to digital methods restores at once a sense of objectivity and an intimate subjectivity that compels the viewer to indulge in a re-evaluation of his own relationship with space at the same time as it succeeds in documenting the artist's own spaces. While hinting powerfully at the application of a similar approach to other media, Griffin - like Isherwood and Sander before him - provides a portrait of his own time through space that obliges the viewer to look again at the face of his time. The artist as camera has turned the camera onto the viewer.</p>

<p>---</p>

<p>See also an earlier contribution from the Evaluation of Space series on <em>The Utopian</em>, <a href="http://www.the-utopian.org/2008/05/000031.html">here</a>.<br />
</p>]]>
        
    </content>
</entry>

<entry>
    <title></title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.the-utopian.org/2009/07/000074.html" />
    <id>tag:www.the-utopian.org,2009://1.74</id>

    <published>2009-07-09T17:07:09Z</published>
    <updated>2009-07-09T17:27:15Z</updated>

    <summary></summary>
    <author>
        <name>Yascha Mounk</name>
        
    </author>
    
        <category term="article" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" />
    
    
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://www.the-utopian.org/">
        
        
    </content>
</entry>

<entry>
    <title>Welcome to the Fourth Issue of The Utopian</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.the-utopian.org/2009/07/000072.html" />
    <id>tag:www.the-utopian.org,2009://1.72</id>

    <published>2009-07-09T13:31:15Z</published>
    <updated>2009-07-09T20:06:44Z</updated>

    <summary></summary>
    <author>
        <name>Yascha Mounk</name>
        
    </author>
    
        <category term="in brief" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" />
    
    
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://www.the-utopian.org/">
        
        
    </content>
</entry>

<entry>
    <title>Test</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.the-utopian.org/2009/02/000070.html" />
    <id>tag:www.the-utopian.org,2009://1.70</id>

    <published>2009-02-19T22:37:18Z</published>
    <updated>2009-02-19T22:39:55Z</updated>

    <summary>......</summary>
    <author>
        <name>Yascha Mounk</name>
        
    </author>
    
    
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://www.the-utopian.org/">
        <![CDATA[<p>...</p>]]>
        
    </content>
</entry>

<entry>
    <title>Talking Heads: The Scarlet and The Black.</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.the-utopian.org/2009/02/000065.html" />
    <id>tag:www.the-utopian.org,2009://1.65</id>

    <published>2009-02-13T23:24:20Z</published>
    <updated>2009-07-09T20:07:24Z</updated>

    <summary> Yascha Mounk and Alexander Lee, co-founders of The Utopian discuss the controversy about Pope Benedict XVI&apos;s recent reinstatement of the Society of Saint Pius X and holocaust-denying Bishop Richard Williamson to the Roman-Catholic church

 </summary>
    <author>
        <name>Yascha Mounk</name>
        
    </author>
    
        <category term="in brief" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" />
    
    
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://www.the-utopian.org/">
        <![CDATA[<p><strong><em> Yascha Mounk and Alexander Lee, co-founders of <em>The Utopian</em> discuss the controversy about Pope Benedict XVI's recent reinstatement of the Society of Saint Pius X and holocaust-denying Bishop Richard Williamson to the Roman-Catholic church</em></strong></p>

<p><embed id="VideoPlayback" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docid=6336531934094799324&hl=en&fs=true" style="width:250px;height:146" allowFullScreen="true" allowScriptAccess="always" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"> </embed></p>]]>
        
    </content>
</entry>

<entry>
    <title>Welcome to the Third Issue of The Utopian</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.the-utopian.org/2009/02/000068.html" />
    <id>tag:www.the-utopian.org,2009://1.68</id>

    <published>2009-02-13T23:05:05Z</published>
    <updated>2009-02-13T23:24:07Z</updated>

    <summary>The Utopian is proud to present its new issue, Making History. With contributions ranging from eminent philosophers Jürgen Habermas and Paolo Flores d&apos;Arcais to emerging writers and artists like Sam Munson and Kate Aspinall, we examine the past, present and future of history and how it is made. In thought-provoking pieces that challenge our relationship with the past Timothy Stanley and Alexander Lee boldly makes the case that history is, indeed, bunk, while Israeli Oded Na&apos;aman asks if someone won&apos;t please make history by saving his country from itself.

We are also excited to introduce two new sections of The Utopian: a challenging blog continually updated by an array of international contributors, and &apos;Talking Heads&apos;, a regular video discussion on the most controversial issues of the day. 

Watch The Utopian co-founders Alexander Lee and Yascha Mounk discussing the Catholic Church, Holocaust denial and liberal anxiety in the brand new &apos;Talking Heads&apos; section; or read Justin Fowler on &apos;Making Futures&apos; and Panagiotis Patlakas on &apos;Jazz at Massey Hall&apos;. Be sure to check back regularly for more thought-provoking updates - many more entries will go online in the next days and weeks!</summary>
    <author>
        <name>Yascha Mounk</name>
        
    </author>
    
        <category term="in brief" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" />
    
    
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://www.the-utopian.org/">
        <![CDATA[<p><em>The Utopian</em> is proud to present its new issue, <em>Making History.</em> With contributions ranging from eminent philosophers Jürgen Habermas and Paolo Flores d'Arcais to emerging writers and artists like Sam Munson and Kate Aspinall, we examine the past, present and future of history and how it is made. In thought-provoking pieces that challenge our relationship with the past Timothy Stanley and Alexander Lee boldly make the case that history is, indeed, bunk, while Israeli Oded Na'aman asks if someone won't please make history by saving his country from itself.</p>

<p>We are also excited to introduce two new sections of <em>The Utopian</em>: a challenging blog continually updated by an array of international contributors, and '<em>Talking Heads</em>', a regular video discussion on the most controversial issues of the day. </p>

<p>Watch <em>The Utopian</em> co-founders Alexander Lee and Yascha Mounk discussing the Catholic Church, Holocaust denial and liberal anxiety in the brand new 'Talking Heads' section; or read Justin Fowler on 'Making Futures' and Panagiotis Patlakas on 'Jazz at Massey Hall'. Be sure to check back regularly for more thought-provoking updates - many more entries will go online in the next days and weeks!<br />
</p>]]>
        
    </content>
</entry>

<entry>
    <title>Making Futures</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.the-utopian.org/2009/02/000066.html" />
    <id>tag:www.the-utopian.org,2009://1.66</id>

    <published>2009-02-12T21:22:27Z</published>
    <updated>2009-02-13T22:52:28Z</updated>

    <summary>Much attention has obviously been given to the active construction of history, the material substance of which being almost infinitely malleable by the physical or ideological victors of each successive era. I would suggest, however, that it is equally important to address as a course of inquiry the construction of future histories...</summary>
    <author>
        <name>Yascha Mounk</name>
        
    </author>
    
        <category term="in brief" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" />
    
    
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://www.the-utopian.org/">
        
        <![CDATA[<p><br />
Much attention has obviously been given to the active construction of history, the material substance of which being almost infinitely malleable by the physical or ideological victors of each successive era. I would suggest, however, that it is equally important to address as a course of inquiry the construction of future histories. Irrespective of previous and current instances of speculation regarding the possible vectors of history (along with pure science fiction), one of the most compelling and concentrated efforts to construct a systematic history of the future emerged at the RAND Corporation in the 1950s, and more specifically, in the work of Herman Kahn, both at RAND and later at the Hudson Institute. Kahn's 1960 work, <em>On Thermonuclear War</em> established an incremental series of futures, or more precisely, future world wars, which illustrated both the potentials and limits of systems analysis. Beyond this goal (and the larger goal of "thinking the unthinkable" and rendering nuclear war survivable), Kahn's seminal work also demonstrates the difficulties inherent in any attempt to quantify uncertainty and to strategize against an opponent with unknown capabilities. Compounding the difficulty of such a project was the issue of the present, where strategic theories became obsolete at the moment of their articulation due to the rapid development of technical capabilities (the hydrogen bomb, the satellite, the U2 spy plane, and ICBMs). Despite the astounding ability of Kahn to project the fantastic serialistic scenarios (culminating in his infamous automated "doomsday device") of possible futures, technological development in the 1950s and 60s seemed almost to outstrip even the most enigmatic conjectures. Utilizing game- and systems operations within the fog of the Cold War was equivalent to attempting to hit a moving target without possessing a sense of certainty that the target could even be sufficiently incapacitated if it were to be acquired--i.e. a first and second-order uncertainty. Thus, Kahn's history of the future and the early work of RAND, with its aspiration to the quantifiable, was more of a theatre of the prosthetic method as reassurance--compiling data to toss into the void. The proliferation of realism in war simulations is but one literal example of such a theatrical impulse. Even if adaptation and flexibility were the seemingly realist mantras of these cutting edge west-coast brains, Kahn's work expressed the latent substrate of such efforts, namely the spectre of historical inevitability. Contingency management was thus carried out for its own sake, as a kind of perpetual battle of wits and techniques with the Soviets (and with the researchers' own unbounded fantasies), yet was also regarded, at least by Kahn, as a pragmatic humanist response to a nihilistic inevitability. Perhaps the most valuable legacy of Kahn's work is its messy, yet virtuosic and often deviously humorous, conflation of tactical brilliance and grand strategic vision--of a feedback loop of technique imbued with a larger sense of quasi-Hegelian directionality, with Kahn the personality acting as the synthetic element. Kahn's project was carried out with a characteristically American attitude that stubbornly refused to acknowledge a distinction between the poetic and the pragmatic.<br />
</p>]]>
    </content>
</entry>

<entry>
    <title>The Institutional and the Public Spheres</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.the-utopian.org/2009/02/000064.html" />
    <id>tag:www.the-utopian.org,2009://1.64</id>

    <published>2009-02-12T08:25:25Z</published>
    <updated>2009-02-14T00:56:20Z</updated>

    <summary></summary>
    <author>
        <name>Yascha Mounk</name>
        
    </author>
    
    
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://www.the-utopian.org/">
        
        <![CDATA[<p><br />
Professor Habermas presents his point of view cogently, but I do not believe he has responded to the objections I raised.<br />
	Habermas <em>radically</em> distinguishes the institutional from the public sphere. He pits the institutional sphere of the "parliaments, tribunals, ministries, administrative authorities," but more in general of the "institutional processes of consultation and decision," against the public sphere as a place of the "informal participation of the citizens in the forming of opinions" (since he previously stigmatized the "politics from the pulpit" of the Adenauer period, such "consultation," which other contexts seem to limit to parliamentary debate alone, may also refer to election campaigns). In the institutional sphere "all norms, if they are to gain juridical approval, must be formulated, and <em>publicly justified</em>, in a language that <em>all the citizens can understand</em>." This rules out arguments put forward in the language of a particular faith (or of the syncretism of all faiths, if possible).<br />
	Habermas appears peremptory: in the entire institutional dimension "[religious] citizens and [religious] organizations have to know that the cognitive content of their contributions can justify politically binding decisions only on the condition of their being previously translated," i.e., rigorously stripped of references to faith and to God. In short, in the deliberative process of law and in that of its application the God-argument must be <em>ostracized</em>. By contrast, in the public sphere, which includes all the places of informal discussion (television first of all), believers not only have the right to utilize the language of God and the arguments of faith, but in so doing they bring to democracy an inalienable wealth.<br />
	The objection I raised against Habermas is that the decision-making process in a democracy - and all the more in democracy as Habermas understands it, as deliberative and not merely procedural - does not permit this sharp and normatively significant separation between the two spheres. Habermas skips over this objection - which is certainly not the same as demonstrating its groundlessness.<br />
	Let us put our two contrasting convictions to the test in the concrete case of religious faiths that, in the public sphere, put the God-argument forward in one of the most recurrent forms it takes today: namely, that of the <em>sacredness of Life</em> as religiously deduced from human "creaturality."<br />
	Concretely speaking: on television, in the newspapers, in conferences, in universities and in schools, in churches, synagogues and mosques, the <em>dogmatically religious </em>conviction of human "creaturality" constitutes a crucial argument in favor of the "sacredness of Life" from the very instant of the fertilization of the ovum, and in the nonnegotiable defense of such sacredness it harbors an intransigent pathos. This pathos sees in whomever takes part in an abortion (woman, doctor, nurse) the perpetrator of a homicide - indeed, of the most hateful of homicides, infanticide; indeed, of the vilest form of infanticide, since the fetus and the embryo, the farther they be from birth - albeit humans by all rights - with their still shapeless appearance spare their killer the risk of any sense of guilt.<br />
	And, since abortions are now legion, we are - allegedly - confronted with an <em>exponential holocaust</em>. The woman, the doctor, the nurse, are, in this case, the moral equivalent of the SS who hurl the Jewish child into the crematorium. All this follows logically from this religious assumption (which, in the public sphere, has in fact been flaunted punctually by the last two Popes, in emotionally crucial circumstances: the voyage to Poland; the visit to Auschwitz).<br />
	But subsequently, perhaps already in election campaigns, most certainly in parliamentary debates, such an argument ought to be inexorably banned, since in the institutional sphere Habermas (quite rightly) admits only a <em>logos</em> that addresses <em>common</em> rationality (which excludes on principle "un-translated" faiths), and an argumentation that "all the citizens can understand" can make no appeal to "creaturality." Thus "Life" would prosaically and secularly drop its capital "L" and be divided into the domains - even with their at times disputed borders - of life-of-the-morula, life-of-the-balstocyst, life-of-the-embryo, life-of-the-fetus, and of a <em>human</em> life whose attribute, up to the last stages of pregnancy, is - in the absence of the God-argument - highly problematic (to put it mildly).<br />
	This <em>radical</em> separation of political life into two spheres, governed by <em>opposing criteria</em> as far as the admissibility of their arguments are concerned, thus proves, in the first place, to be <em>factually</em> impossible. Any parliamentary pleading in favor of penal sanctions for abortion reverberates with the unmistakable echo of religious anathema ("the sacredness of Life"), which constitutes the evident, albeit tacit, content of the argumentation; and thus the two spheres are reunified <em>de facto</em>.<br />
	Moreover, any claim to keep these two spheres radically separated constitutes an unpardonable offense against the principle of democratic representation. It demands, in fact, nothing less than socially widespread politico-argumentative schizophrenia. When citizens debate the selection of their political representatives one may, indeed, have recourse to God; but these representatives, in legislating in the name of their electors, cannot do so, even when the God-argument cannot be replaced by equally convincing rational arguments. The participation of the citizen and of the parliamentarian in the deliberative process would thus come about according to mutually exclusive dia-logical modalities, and the argumentative impermeability between the two spheres would render the former no longer representable in the latter, thus confirming the conservative theory of democracy as nothing more than a procedural fiction for the turnover of "elites."<br />
	What is more: if - as Habermas does - one encourages the use of "untranslatable" religious arguments in the public sphere (and "creaturality" - as he himself admits - is indeed "untranslatable"), this will influence that "liberal political culture" which is like a "friable slope of detritus," whose elements "shift continually, since it is susceptible to the impulses of public communication." And the shift is precisely towards progressive legitimization - through cumulative effects - of recourse to the God-argument <em>throughout</em> the deliberative process, once it has first been rendered "obvious" in the existential domain. The reasonableness of banning it in parliamentary debate will become increasingly indefensible and, ultimately, incomprehensible to <em>common</em> sense, which comes to realize that what is at stake is always the same, whether it be debated by parliamentarians deliberating over laws, or by the citizens in choosing who will be doing the deliberating.<br />
	How is it possible, in fact, to taboo an argument as soon as it comes into Parliament or into the courts when it has already been legitimized in the programs on TV, that all-pervading (and meta-legitimizing) cathodic hearth which has come to "con-form" the contemporary life-world nearly to the point of saturation? Encouraged in the public sphere, the argument will colonize the institutional sphere as well. Indeed, public opinion in Habermas's sense is, precisely, the interface between civil society and institutions, between interests and norms, the place in which the democratic ethos - the ultimate and only "foundation" of our individual and collective freedoms - is modified, intensified, or exhausted.<br />
	And then, "from the left," the postmodern hermeneutics of the politically correct - as disagreeable to Habermas, I believe, as it is to me - goes precisely in the direction of accepting the validity of logics (irrational, after all) that are incapable of addressing everyone, as long as they are representative of traditional communities - and this, in paradoxical synergy with the clerical claims of all monotheisms. Thus in Italy the Communist Refoundation party (analogous to <em>die Linke</em> in Germany, but not - I hope - in this respect) refused to vote for a law against the sexual mutilation of little girls, judging it to be too severe because deaf to the traditional and religious roots of these identity practices; while in Great Britain the Archbishop of Canterbury - schismatic ever since the Tudors, never mind Catholic Italy! - asks that Common Law incorporate significant elements of the sharia, in the name of the same logic.</p>

<p><strong>The Primacy of Freedom or of Faith?</strong></p>

<p>What, then, does democracy (particularly in Habermas's deliberative, and not merely procedural, version) have the right to demand of the religious "communities of interpretation," to <em>keep them from</em> contributing to the piecemeal landslide of the common liberal cultural, culminating in the collapse of the God-argument taboo in Parliament and in the courts?<br />
	Let us go back to the question of "Life" - a nonnegotiable question for the believer. To keep the discourse of faith from overflowing from the public sphere into the institutional domain, the "communities of interpretation," apart from claiming that Life is sacred since God is its author and lord, ought to add that God will judge in the fullness of time and in the highest of heavens, while on earth - here and now - human law will have to permit the citizens (which means also the nonbelievers) to violate and suppress that which they consider not yet, or no longer, to be <em>human</em> life.<br />
	As a matter of fact, some "communities of interpretation" do so (the Waldensian Christians in Italy, many Protestant confessions in Germany and throughout the world, and even many Catholics in disobedience of the hierarchical Church). They rigorously insist that a deadly sin must not be considered a crime of law. Hence they have voted in favor of laws allowing divorce and abortion, and are ready to do so for euthanasia.<br />
	It is not fortuitous that we are talking about a minority. Their practice, which democracy, moreover, has the right/duty to demand (I want the law to permit you - nonbeliever - to practice that which my faith judges to be a deadly sin) entails the primacy of the freedom of <em>others</em> (even against Life!) over the moral values of one's own Truth, <em>relativized</em> in social co-existence, even if lived personally as unshakeable.<br />
	If one should reply that it is unrealistic to ask religions to promote a pro-co-existence attitude in which the <em>common reasons</em> (not, therefore, "creaturality") prevail over the nonnegotiable Truth of one's own morality (pro "Life"), then let us note that Habermas's intimation of legislative, executive and judiciary branches of government with an exclusively secular or secularly "translated" <em>logos</em> (which is the same thing) is no less illusory.<br />
	Habermas's remark that "after all, for good reasons, we have never seen a European president in public prayer" is, indeed, ironic - not, however, with respect to the peripheral provincialism of mono-confessional Italy, but rather to the extreme multi-confessionalism of the United States. In the USA, heart and empire of the democratic West, the case is exactly the opposite: for decades we have not seen a President - or even a presidential candidate - who has not been immortalized in a place of worship, and has not made reference to God in his institutional actions. Bush Jr.'s nominations to the Supreme Court have, in fact, been shamelessly guided by the <em>fundamentalist</em> religious criterion, honoring the infamous pact he made during the election campaign, before the people, with the highly powerful "communities of interpretation" of the evangelical right. And the judges of the Supreme Court are the institutional "community of interpretation" that, with its sentences, has reversed and can reverse the US constitutional outlook.<br />
	In short, here it is not a question of knowing whether the religious communities are inclined to have God (in whatever shape or form) be taboo in political argumentation, but whether, in a democratic context, and all in more so in a deliberative democracy à la Habermas, such behavior is <em>proper</em>. This would seem to be the case, since Habermas emphasizes how, even "when they address [only] their own faithful, churches have to speak to them as religiously oriented members of the <em>political</em> community, without exercising any moral constraint." But foregoing "moral constraint" means that priests and pastors, rabbis and mullahs cannot threaten to inflict even <em>spiritual</em> punishment on their flocks to obtain their obedience, and - <em>a fortiori</em> - can all the less claim to impose it by law on the nonbelievers (in which case we would clearly have gone from moral to the far more fearful constraint of the secular arm).<br />
	This would <em>peremptorily</em> seem to be the case, since Habermas adds that the religious communities "cannot put <em>their spiritual authority</em> in place of that type of reasons that are capable of gaining general resonance," and thus thinks he can liquidate all my criticisms of his presumed weaknesses with respect to religious fundamentalism with an: "excluded from the start is any interpretation of the separation between state and church that leads to the toleration of such things" as "discrimination against homosexuals, practices of clitoral mutilation, domestic violence, forced marriage, polygamy, refusal to give medical assistance." "We both" - Habermas began - "set out from the premise that the democratic state of law guarantees equal rights for all."<br />
	Both of whom? Habermas and I, to be sure. But God? And what about all the religions, all the actually existing "communities of interpretation"? Precisely this is the stumbling block. When one claims that churches and faiths have the right <em>as</em> religions to participate in public life, also with untranslated and untranslatable arguments, the question arises (or ought to, at least): are the contributions of these communities <em>always</em>, in fact, compatible with democratic values?<br />
	By no means. Many of them are not. For that matter, if they always and exclusively constituted that wealth of solidarity which in democracy, at the mercy of a cynical-hedonistic drift, is sorely missed, the question would never have arisen. If it does, it is because in mono-confessional Italy a legal and "integrated" immigrant demands that the police bring his wife back home by force, and in multi-confessional Germany demands family reunification for a second wife (an application granted by the courts, unless the Italian newspapers manipulated the story), and in the mosques one asks for more and for worse, while a German Pope seeks to bring back penal sanctions for abortion - in Italy and in Spain, in Poland and in Ireland, and wherever he deems the power relations to be favorable - and for the morning-after pill and for RU846 and for the selection of healthy embryos in artificial insemination, to say nothing of the elementary right of all persons over their own lives (in plain words: euthanasia).</p>

<p><strong>The Ambivalence of Religions and Liberal Political Culture</strong></p>

<p>Habermas maintains that "in vulnerable spheres of social co-existence, religious traditions have the strength to articulate moral intuitions in a linguistically convincing manner," i.e., with a forceful emotive persuasion that the cold medical-scientific-sociological specialism of secular welfare no longer possesses, or has never possessed. In some cases he may be right. But what shall we say about the intuitions that are "morally wrong"? About women who have abortions equated with the SS? Or - less repugnant but no less "wrong" - about homosexuality as a "serious disorder" and, substantially, a sickness; about the Islamic girls to be immunized against sexual freedom by means of social ostracism or worse; about the children of Jehovah's Witnesses who are not permitted to have transfusions; and about the entire Pandora's box of demands that actually existing religions effectively make (and multiply)?<br />
	In short, the problem arises when the religious communities express "moral intuitions" that are incompatible with individual constitutional freedoms, when they seek to impose them on their faithful with moral constraint, and when they demand that also the nonbelievers bow to them, imposing judicial and earthly sanctions, besides the spiritual and heavenly penalties to which the nonbelievers are insensible. If it were not for this constellation of attitudes, which often characterize the actually existing faiths, then we would be dealing only with the churches and the believers (probably the same ones) that both Habermas and I like and whom I exemplified, for national-religious <em>par condicio</em>, in the German Protestant Bonhoeffer and in the Italian Catholic "street priests."<br />
	But it is just not so. The religious communities more or less exceptionally manage to separate in themselves and in their faithful the believer from the citizen, and thus to root the taboo of the God-argument in the institutional sphere. Very often they consider the Truth of their own morality a more than sufficient reason to request its conversion into a law of the State; indeed, Habermas has legitimized their flourishing it as a viable argument in the public sphere (television, etc.). After all, if they had not done so they would have renounced the God-arguments, and limiting themselves to arguments of - or translatable into - common reason, the problem, once again, would never have arisen.<br />
	It is not a question, then, of "preferring a <em>liberal</em> public sphere" (in Habermas's sense: which admits truths of faith, untranslated) to my secularistic excesses (which reject such arguments), because "whoever is unwilling, or unable, to separate his moral convictions and his vocabulary into their sacred and profane components, must nonetheless be able to participate in the political formation of opinion also with a religious language." Habermas, in fact, is speaking of "those who are unwilling, or unable" to neglect the - crucial - cases in which it is <em>impossible</em> to separate the two components without compromising the substance of the argument: "creaturality" in the debate on abortion and euthanasia, for example.<br />
	Contrary to Habermas's accusation, I have nothing against the translation of values from religious to secular language. But we must keep it clearly in mind that religious language is never univocal, which means that its translation will never be univocal either. The religious arsenal offers infinite suggestions for equality and justice, but it is equally inexhaustible - if not more so - also in the opposite direction. Churches in the USA reverberate with as many antiracial homilies as they do with homilies on God's will for white supremacy. One may try to "translate" from the sacred scriptures to condemn torture, as in Habermas's example, but efforts to justify it are galore: to justify torture, and holy wars, and bonfires for dissidents. Today, for that matter, the overwhelming majority of priests, rabbis and mullahs exploit the God-argument of "creaturality" to impose torture to the last instant upon the terminally ill.<br />
	It would truly be ingenuous - a quality I would not dream of attributing to Habermas - to close one's eyes to the <em>structural</em> ambivalence of religious traditions. Indeed, we find legitimate interpretations of such traditions in both Saint Francis and Torquemada, legitimate translations in the "socialist" peasant war and the reactionary insurrection of the Vendée, or more modestly in the reactionary values of the Bavarian Catholic Strauss and the progressive values of the theologian Hans Küng. The relativism of the interpretations, and of the ethics that derive from them, is the heart of every religious message, which otherwise would rapidly be exhausted on the historical plane.<br />
	And so we are back where we began: the "communities of interpretation" are a resource for democracy if they go in one direction, and a threat if they go in the other. Will only the voices in consonance with the republican ethos be allowed? In that case they are translatable on principle, and on principle constitute no problem. But who shall decide when an untranslatable God-argument, rather than infuse solidarity into a parched republicanism, endangers essential and inalienable elements of liberal culture? Parliament? the government? the courts?<br />
	Because it may seem easy to avoid the difficulty by invoking as a diriment criterion censorship of the God-argument only if and when it instigates violation of the law (instigates jihad and terrorist martyrdom, for example, but also "discrimination against homosexuals, practices of clitoral mutilation, domestic violence, forced marriage, polygamy, refusal to give medical assistance"). To be consistent, however, this means muzzling in the public sphere anyone who wants to subvert the current laws. Not only the Jehovah's Witness, but also the Catholic who defames those who take part in abortion as homicidal. But if it is legitimate to argue in the name of "creaturality" on euthanasia and abortion, why not on the family hierarchy and polygamy in the name of the visions of the Prophet, an argument that is <em>equally</em> untranslatable? Is the God of Jesus more God than the Allah of Muhammad?<br />
	In short, if only that in religions which is common with the values of constitutional republicanism is lawful, then discrimination between churches will have to be made, generating conflict and uncertainty: shall the "communities of interpretation" that do not internalize constitutional values be disbanded? And after how many violations? And who shall be the judge? Here, it is not only a question of preventing the instigation of crimes, but also of blocking any preaching that, through the semantics of ambiguity - which is particularly effective in the suggestion of religious references - weakens constitutional loyalty and thus that "political culture" which, for Habermas, has the right to "establish the parameters of public discourse."<br />
	Moreover, we already know how the "liberal political culture," which lays down "the parameters of public discourse," "shifts continually," since "it is susceptible to the impulses of public communication." Allowing this culture to be swelled with the hormones of untranslatable God-arguments means encouraging the synergy of such arguments, which are irrational by definition (otherwise they would be accessible to all, not <em>just</em> to the faithful), with other modes of persuasion - also released from the bonds of rational argument - that now dominate the public sphere, in television spots and entertainment formats. Even though the remark may sound irreverent, the TV spot, which overwhelms the critico-rational immune defense mechanisms, and the appeal to an untranslatable God, both share the same pre-rational or irrational seductiveness, and both contribute to the forced obsolescence of the idea of logico-argumentative rigor as an inalienable keystone of democratic society. The philosophies of "everything is interpretation" add their spice of "high" legitimization.<br />
	In short, I would say that there is no way out: in egalitarian and participatory democracy, the public sphere (television <em>in primis</em>), with <em>all</em> the motivations admissible in it, must constitute the reservoir of a <em>democratic</em> ethos without which liberal democracy, devitalized and reduced to a procedure for oligarchic turnover, runs the risk of succumbing at the first crisis. But religion <em>as</em> religion, as untranslatable God-argument, can contribute to this ethos but can also undermine it, in virtue of the structurally ambivalent character of its discourse. While the Habermasian double register, in distinguishing between behaviors admissible either in the public or in the institutional sphere, functions only by assuming that which is not the case: namely, that the religious communities, in enriching social life with a pathos orientated to the solidarity the secular world has, allegedly, lost, never weaken the democratic ethos.<br />
	This was my second objection, which Habermas does not take into consideration - which is not to say that he has refuted it.</p>

<p><strong>"A Public Sphere that Is Not Deformed"</strong></p>

<p>This repression seems to be generated by Habermas's radical pessimism, which sees the hedonistic-egotistic-standardizing drift of the current free-market liberalism as anthropologically irreversible, and the freeze of the progressive movements it has produced as definitive. Professor Habermas ends up by raising the deficit of the endogenous resources of solidarity in secularized democracy to an ontological principle.<br />
	But this raises a major question: <em>why</em>, "in the difficult cases - for example in the emotionally charged discussion regarding the use of torture in the case of terrorists" can "only these religious images bring the moral sentiments of justice out from under the rubble of political prejudices - even in secular dispositions"? This remark would appear to reflect Habermas's own prejudice, and quite a surprising one: namely, the idea - implicit, but necessary for the statement's sense - that the atheist and the agnostic can have no other motivations beyond naked utilitarian interest, reason of State included. Apart from the fact that the cold secular legalism of the cult of procedures could itself suffice for an opposition to torture with "no ifs, ands, or buts," why in the world should there not be a sense of justice - indeed, a <em>pietas</em>, a charity, a love for one's neighbor, a solidarity for the "last" ["the last shall be first," Matthew 20:16] - also of a nonreligious and nontranscendent origin? Humanitarian organizations such as "Doctors Without Borders" and others, which reward sacrifice and certainly not "individual success," have developed in a perfectly secular, and even atheist, atmosphere.<br />
	What is more, Habermas connects this desert of secular solidary-egalitarian passions with the historical demise of the labor movement. Therefore, an ethos and a pathos oriented to support of the exploited and abandoned is possible in principle, even <em>without</em> religion. Without and even against religion: as we know, the <em>agape</em> of revolutionary brotherhood and of the struggles for universal emancipation has often had to take on anticlerical and atheistic tints.<br />
	But personal sacrifice and loving one's neighbor, the "human warmth" that democracies need more than ever if they are to take root rather than decline, of itself does not guarantee an analogous propensity for equal rights for all. It can, unfortunately, join forces with the denial of the most basic freedoms. This has been the tragic and recurrent lesson of the revolutions "in the name of the proletariat"; this, today, is the everyday reality of the fundamentalist "communities of struggle," which from the Gaza Strip to entire regions of Pakistan (without forgetting Taliban Afghanistan and the enduring Khomeinism in Iran) owe their success to a spirit of solidarity and of sacrifice for their neighbors that blends perfectly with the all-pervasive obscurantist denial of the civil liberties of these very "neighbors" (and with hatred for the "enemy" to the point of terrorism).<br />
	A twofold error, then, belies Habermas's claim that "it is often in the religious life of the communities that we find still intact that which has been lost elsewhere." The capacity of solidarity to cope with the "failure of existential projects" and "lacerations in the fabric of life" constitutes not the "intact" but, rather, the <em>spurious</em> privilege of religious traditions. In the Christian sphere brotherly charity on the side of the "last" co-exists easily with the hierarchical authoritarianism of Opus Dei and with "get rich!" Pentecostalism, which are far more akin to turbo-capitalism than to the Gospel anathemas against the rich. And why, then, among nonreligious citizens is a feeling of solidarity considered something not to be found?<br />
	The cynical-hedonistic drift of the Western democracies, at the mercy of egotism and conformism now in exponential growth, is certainly a <em>fact</em>. The constant endogenous generation of an orientation to values of equality and solidarity is therefore <em>the</em> - essential and undelayable - problem of our democracies, if we wish to keep turbo-capitalism from paving the way to their extinction. To this point, Habermas and I fully agree. What I fail to see, however, is why secularity (even in its extreme form of atheism) is to be identified - as the engine and cause of this drift - with the wild <em>laissez-faire</em> liberalism of the current globalization. After all, Reagan was a believer, as was Bush Senior, and Bush Junior speaks directly with Jesus; and all three championed the Chicago Boys.<br />
	For Habermas the antibodies have to consist in "a public sphere that is not deformed" and in "a cultural tradition that is not impoverished." Let us consider the first point. I agree with Habermas wholeheartedly. To be "not deformed" the public sphere must have communicative symmetry among the citizens, i.e., an equal and reciprocal <em>being heard</em>, and not a mere and hypothetical right to speak (a mockery, if relegated to Hyde Park Corner and similar apologetic formalisms). To come as close to this ideal as possible, even in this epoch dominated by television and search engines, is therefore an absolute democratic imperative. Hence a movement for the reform of television systems is a necessity even where "regulation thought" ["pensée unique"] has not attained the pomp of Putin's Russia or Berlusconi's Italy. What we need is a veritable kaleidoscope of information pluralism, based, however, on the common loyalty toward that which Hannah Arendt called "humble factual truths." Such loyalty is on the wane not only when the desiderata of the Pentagon on "weapons of mass destruction" is passed off as news, but also when one sells the most corroborated of scientific theories - the evolution of the species according to "chance plus necessity" - and the most recent of metaphysical fantasies, Intelligent Design, as <em>opinions</em>, equally legitimate in <em>factual</em> caliber.<br />
	But - as we have seen - the equal and <em>reciprocal</em> "being heard" of the public sphere rests, for its very possibility, on the premise that whoever speaks addresses everyone, which is exactly what cannot come about in the case of an untranslatable religious argument.<br />
	Therefore, without prejudices on the anthropological structural egotism of <em>homo saecularis</em> and on the charitable vocation of <em>homo religiosus</em>, the problem of the deficit of motivation-for-solidarity in the democratic societies of turbo-capitalism can be posed, fully, as follows: how shall we promote, provide incentives for, and reinforce civic-solidary motivational resources, which, however, are univocal in founding and fueling the democratic ethos, and can never be converted into a factor of denial of the freedoms of the "dissident"?<br />
	If "the condition of this [democratic] culture depends on the delicate balance between the vital force of traditions and their openness to incessant revision," we have seen that such a contribution can come from religious sensibilities only if they are capable of internalizing the supremacy of other people's freedoms over their own moral Truth, to the point of violating it if those freedoms do not violate analogous freedom of others (which in euthanasia is impossible on principle, and in abortion only with antiscientific acrobatics). And while excluding the adaptive capacities of the agnostic and atheistic Enlightenment-egalitarian traditions is an inadmissible prejudice, attention should in any case be focused on the endogenous "vital force" that a consistently democratic daily practice can develop in maintaining and strengthening the civic-solidary ethos, giving rise to a virtuous spiral set over against its progressive weakening in the institutional and mass-media routine of the establishments, which in the exercise of daily power trample on and dishonor the principles solemnly embroidered in the constitutions.</p>

<p><strong>Turbo-Capitalism and Secular-Progressive Engagement</strong></p>

<p>Habermas is absolutely right, of course, when he remarks that "the old intellectuals of the left" cannot "boast they are capable of successfully combating the depoliticization of a public sphere influenced by Berlusconi's television stations"; but this is certainly not due to an excess of secularism. Empirically speaking, it is just the opposite: in Italy, for years, the mass struggles that have been contesting Berlusconi's excessive power (and the subalternity of the official parties of the left) have very often been characterized also by a secular radicalism, branded by these parties as "sclerotized secularism" and the like, with a perfectly Habermasian accent.<br />
	So, if the problem today is the apathy that seems to have attacked and, indeed, "deep-frozen" secular-progressive engagement in many Western countries, the reasonable suggestion would be to work for its <em>thawing</em>, individuating its cultural, social, political and organizational conditions and committing ourselves to their "implementation," instead of celebrating the subrogatory ruse of a supplement of soul that comes from religions. Once the progressive movement "thaws out" and starts up again, common action with religious progressivism will come right along with it, as it always has in the past, against the conservative or reactionary interpretations of the "communities of faith."<br />
	Having recourse to the aid of religion as a deus ex machina means resigning ourselves to the <em>inexorable</em> decline of the endogenous production of egalitarian values and solidary motivations that, today, are effectively lacking in the West with its vindication of <em>laissez-faire</em>, its opulent conformism, its "society of winners." But the root of such deficits is not the excess of antireligious activism (three or four bestsellers!) that Habermas accuses of seeking to secularize not only institutions, but also the consciousness of individuals and society as a whole, but rather the real process of stripping the citizens of their sovereignty - that is, of the equal shares of freedom/power promised by democracies, beyond the differences in economic and social conditions. Not only has this promise not been kept but, today, it has been less and less approximated and, indeed, more and more glaringly betrayed. And this is not just in virtue of a supranational dislocation of powers due to globalization but, all the more, through the progressive emptying out of representation, monopolistically sequestered by increasingly self-referential party machines. As I wrote a quarter of a century ago, professional politicians have come to constitute an out-and-out <em>guild</em>, which excludes the citizens from any genuine political action.<br />
	This expropriation of actual freedom/power triggers a vicious circle of demotivation: frustration of political participation, retreat into private egotisms and depression of the republican virtues oriented to solidarity, increased power of the "guild," further frustration of civic-participatory political passion. The circle is all the more devastating, since a widespread republican ethos is the only "foundation" of democracy, a political form forced to hold itself up in the void by its pigtail (or was it the collar?) like Baron Munchausen, since it is born by destroying every transcendent and heteronomous foundation.<br />
	But the motivation to solidarity is activated or re-activated in the first place in the practice of democracy, not in the spurious and ambivalent aid of religion. From this standpoint, a transformation of television programming is far more important than a transformation of religions (and at a rough guess ought to be less arduous), as is a critical education from early childhood (pedagogical experiments show that very young children understand Darwinism more "spontaneously" than they do religious fables), in a school that by its very mingling of races and religions relativizes the all-pervasive sense of the faith received in the family. As are all the other Enlightenment-solidary actions and political and social reforms that progressive engagement can invent and carry out.<br />
It is not secularism that dries up altruism, but wild <em>laissez-faire</em> liberalism. Secularism and wild liberalism do not overlap. Neither do the libertarian individual and egotistic individualism. On the contrary, the highest degree of individuality, i.e., of freedom/power for the individual <em>as irreplaceable</em>, can (and even must) be united with the highest degree of solidarity, of acting-with, as Hannah Arendt and Albert Camus knew perfectly, with Camus even coining the expression <em>solitaire-solidaire</em> for this existential and political program.<br />
I have preferred to respond in great detail to Habermas's remarks, even at the risk of being tedious and, at times, muddled, because Habermas has long been the most important Continental philosopher, has become influential also in very important areas of American political thought, and because today his theses on the relation between religion and democracy are becoming a <em>koiné</em> utilized by highly conservative Churches and theologies (Ratzinger included), in search of a <em>reconquista</em> of the postmodern world.<br />
Let me respond, then, also to some "minor" remarks.</p>

<p><strong>Secularistic Extremism?</strong></p>

<p>Habermas writes: "Can post-metaphysical thought rule out the hypothesis that religious traditions carry semantic potentials able to inspire the <em>entire</em> society, once the profane contents of truth have been made explicit? From Kierkegaard to Benjamin, Lévinas and Derrida, there have always been "religious writers" who - regardless of their personal beliefs - have brought theological contents into secular thought." First, it is not at all clear that Kierkegaard, Benjamin, Lévinas and Derrida ever managed to "inspire the <em>entire</em> society" (Habermas's italics). But in the second place, it is completely arbitrary to describe their elaboration inspired by the "semantic potentials" of "religious traditions" as "profane contents of <em>truth</em>" (my italics). That which such philosophies, and many others, may manage to produce are, rather, proposals of <em>sense</em>, fascinating for some but for others absolutely questionable, to the point of senselessness or even disvalue. In any event, such philosophical proposals in no way constitute of themselves a rational argument in the deliberative dia-logos of the citizens and/or of their representatives, in-view-of-the-law. And even less, then, do they give foundation to the claims that a theological content <em>as</em> theological can enter the domain of such dia-logos, which to be inclusive must in principle be able to address everyone.<br />
	Habermas, opportunely, is concerned not only with the juridico-political side of the equal dignity of all, but also with the psychological attitudes that can endanger it. And so, "civic solidarity demands that, in civil society and in the political public sphere, agnostics do not look down upon their religious fellow citizens, taking them as specimens of a protected species." Yet priests and pastors and rabbis, even quite "liberal" and progressive ones (let alone imams and mullahs), almost inevitably consider the atheist a person "in search of...," who "has not yet found..." - that is, as respectable but mutilated, lacking something that is essential for a complete <em>humanity</em>. Will Habermas stigmatize also this attitude as a "looking down upon"? But how could anyone who truly believes that only God is salvation not feel this way? And how could anyone who is convinced that atheism is the inescapable result of a nondogmatic vision of reality, which critically takes to heart the results of science and the unavoidable contradictions of theodicy - how could such a person not consider religious faith to be a form of irrational consolation?<br />
	Neither of these cases, however, automatically leads to a "looking down upon." The believer will look upon me, with charity, as an incomplete being, and I will look upon him, with solidarity, as someone still ensnared in superstitions, because this is what the one thinks of the "ultimate" convictions of the other, if we are not hypocrites. But our political, and also human, relationship can express genuine mutual respect, and even more, as experience shows us every day.<br />
	In saying that a "particularly militant secularism" that ends up "mistaking the secularism of the constitution for the demand to secularize society," in the sense of "discrediting the doctrines of faith as scientifically groundless," arises "certainly not by chance in the Catholic 'monoculture' countries of Europe," Habermas makes quite a blunder, since the episodes he is clearly referring to are a number of bestsellers (Dawkins, Hitchens, Harris, Dennet, etc.), <em>all of them</em> of Anglo-Saxon, and often American, origin - worlds apart, then, from any Catholic monoculture!<br />
	And in any case I fail to see why the attempt to "discredit the doctrines of faith as scientifically groundless" should not be part of the normal exercise of the criticism of opinions - as Habermas did with me and, earlier, I with him - even when such opinions express venerable "visions of the world." Otherwise we shall have to take offense at the "particularly militant secularism" of Feuerbach, and of the Freud of <em>The Future of an Illusion</em>, and of the Monod of <em>Chance and Necessity</em>, and of who knows how many other classics. And we shall end up by calling into question, to avoid offending the believers of one faith or another, the right to write <em>The Satanic Verses</em>, or to draw irreverent satirical cartoons, or to make films like those of Buñuel and of many others.<br />
	Habermas concludes peremptorily: "Secular [<em>säkular</em>] persons and nonbelievers have an agnostic attitude toward religious claims, while secularistic [<em>säkularistisch</em>] persons have a <em>polemical</em> attitude toward the public influence of religious doctrines." The first attitude would be acceptable, the second reprehensible. But why?! Nonbelievers, without distinction, have all the right in the world to be both positively atheist (theoretical plane) and atheistically polemical (practical plane) with respect to religions; i.e., to consider arguable on the rational plane both the nonexistence of God and of the immortal soul and the republican duty to exclude God from the public debate. In my "theses" and in this reply I have attempted to demonstrate that this duty, indeed, is the attitude that is most consistent with democracy (especially if, à la Habermas, it is not merely procedural)  - ready to change my mind only in the face of <em>punctual</em> convincing arguments to the contrary. That agnosticism, i.e., the impossibility of demonstrating rationally either the existence of God or its contrary, be philosophically tenable but atheism not, is a legend that, while repeated like an oath, is in fact highly debatable and controversial.  <br />
	To demonstrate this, Dawkins and Dennet have chosen the way of a <em>naturalism</em> that Habermas describes as <em>hard</em>. We cannot discuss all their argumentations here, which I personally find nearly always convincing in terms of destructive criticism. By contrast, I find that the authors of this line of argument are wrong when they (not all of them) imagine they can explain naturalistically the taking hold and the evolution of moral and religious <em>contents</em>. I cannot go into this criticism here, but I remark <em>en passant</em> that these claims belong to the dimension of ethical cognitivism (which Habermas - in a different version - defends, and I reject).</p>

<p><strong>Which Faith?</strong></p>

<p>The attitude of the democratic nonbeliever may have to differ according to the type of faith proclaimed by the believer.<br />
	Confronted with faith <em>as</em> faith, aware of its collision with ascertainable knowledge - the faith Paul referred to as <em>foolishness</em> (the term is repeated five times in just a few verses, incessantly: 1 Corinthians, 1: 17-25) - the atheist can even be solidary, rather than coldly agnostic: it is your salvation, it depends on the worldly use you make of it, if taking the Gospel seriously, and therefore on the side of the "last," we are engaged in <em>worldly</em> matters <em>together</em>, since only the values of the common struggle in fact concern those who think that everything is decided in the finitude of existence.<br />
	When, by contrast, faith claims to be also reason, i.e., to be knowable truth (at least as regards the doctrine of God and of the immortal soul), as in John Paul II's encyclical <em>Fides et Ratio</em> and the more recent statements by Joseph Ratzinger (co-author, in fact, of the encyclical), so that faith can never, on principle, come into conflict with the results of a correct use of reason, then secular thought has every right - and, as critical thought, I would dare to say has the <em>duty</em> - to contest this abnormal ambition, showing the inexhaustible panoply of irremediable contradictions in which such a claim is entangled.<br />
	Then again, the possibility of "extracting" a rational core from faiths is, obviously, quite another matter. Such a core proved to be plausible only <em>post factum</em>, when reason had performed on faiths operations of <em>inventive</em> hermeneutics, as with the Greek tragedians and Plato with respect to the mythical polytheism of the day, but above all after it had conquered its definitive autonomy, in mortal conflict with the authorized religious hermeneuts - priests and theologians.<br />
	Habermas, then, takes it for granted that it is the traditional "churches" that represent "the natural successors of those four or five world religions that, since the axial age, have unceasingly shaped the cultural models of the great civilizations." But this is factually untrue. As Olivier Roy remarks in one of the most up-to-date studies on the subject, the current religious "revival" regards not the traditional "churches" (not even in the Muslim world) but rather "more fundamentalist and charismatic forms of religious experience (Evangelism, Pentecostalism, Salafism, Tabligh, neo-Sufism)" that compensate for the decline "of the traditional forms of religion (Catholicism, Muslim Hanafism, classical Protestant denominations such as Anglicanism and Methodism)" and that are all "relatively recent movements. Salafism derives from the Wahhabism that was founded at the end of the eighteenth century. Evangelisms are part of the tradition of Protestant 'revivals' of the seventeenth century, and Pentecostalism dates from the early twentieth century. Also the forms of Buddhism and Hinduism that 'convert' and are exported are recent formulations, from the late nineteenth to the twentieth centuries (Soka Gakkai, Fa Lun Gong, Hare Krishna, but also the political Hinduism of the Indian BJP and the Theravada Buddhism of Sri Lanka)" to say nothing "of the Mormons and Jehovah's Witnesses, which also date back to the nineteenth century and at the end of the twentieth century greatly increased throughout the world."<br />
	It is with the influence of these forms of faith, a full and proper "mutation" through "currents that in France are defined as 'sects,' in the United States as 'cults,' and more in general as 'new religious movements,'"  and of their demands to assert the God-argument in the public sphere, that we will increasingly have to settle accounts in the future, and not with theologians à la Hans Küng, who have entirely internalized the civic duty to guarantee by law even that which for faith is a deadly sin (euthanasia included, in Küng's case).<br />
	Now, let me turn to the certainly not "minor" but, indeed, <em>crucial</em> objection Habermas raised against my advocacy of ethical non-cognitivism, which he considers to be irreconcilable with the "deliberative core of democratic procedure," which "requires more than a mere ascertainment of opinions and 'values' that are inaccessible to arguments." Let us see.</p>

<p><strong>Ethical Non-cognitivism</strong></p>

<p>What is implied, negatively and positively, by this duty to argue our preferences rationally, which both Habermas and I defend as essential to a democracy taken seriously? Negatively, it means that, since opinions must be argued and not simply counted, but since, nonetheless, it is <em>the vote</em> that is the moment of the verdict (which, however, can always be revised), the rules of the election campaign will have to reduce to the minimum terms possible all the irrational factors in the persuasive process of gaining consensus. Not only by not influencing the will of the voter "from outside, by hook or by crook, with threats or enticements"  - Mafia intimidation or corruption, for example - but by binding the forms of propaganda as far as possible exclusively to the format of rational argumentation. This, in election campaigns dominated by television, is, in fact, not utopian. It would suffice that neither TV spots nor interviews with individual candidates be allowed, but only <em>debates</em>, "slow" and of sufficient duration, and other formats that reward argumentative rationality and discourage other, well-known and today dominant, rhetorical forms.<br />
	But not even measures of this kind, which many may consider highly illiberal or unrealistic, and not even if in completion of measures that will have structurally and permanently multiplied the possibility of civic participation, through movements and associations (again, oriented to rational debate, but now with the exclusion of untranslated religious languages), would be sufficient to configure "politics as a process that resolves problems [...] from the standpoint of the <em>equal interest of all the citizens</em>, and so in the objectively most useful way, and from the standpoint of <em>justice</em>." But this "equal interest of all the citizens," here flaunted by Habermas as the lever of his reasoning, still seems to me something not to be found - indeed, it sounds to me like an apologetic reactionary myth. And the same holds for the "objectively most useful solution," even if identified with the "prospect of reasonable results."<br />
	The idea of a "common interest" in fact already implies a society that is absolutely egalitarian, as well as absolutely homogenous in its basic values. Wherever there is - more or less - social inequality there cannot but be interests that are - more or less - conflictual. But even the most radical socio-economic equality imaginable would not immunize society against "spiritual" conflicts, of the kind that bioethics presents us with every day. How could a rational argumentation lead to a solution that is "objective" because "reasonable" and therefore "common," on controversial issues such as abortion and euthanasia, without the preliminary sharing of extremely "strong" substantive values?<br />
	Neither is this "common interest" to be found at the purely procedural level, of the rules of the game, of the Constitution, unless republican values have already been internalized <em>by everyone</em> (but the problems arise precisely because <em>this is not so</em>). Against the Islamic fundamentalist who prefers the Qur'an as his constitution, or the Nazi fan of the <em>Fürerprinzip</em>, there is no possibility of producing rational arguments for the superiority of liberal democracy that have not already been presupposed<em> in nuce</em>. This, then, is a conflict that pits God, or the Destiny of the Nation, against the equality of the citizens' opinions - a conflict that cannot be settled rationally because it is between ultimate values. And the fact that the Nazi and the Islamic fundamentalist are willing to participate in democratic life and its relative discussions implies no contradiction (not even a pragmatic one) with their ultimate values, but rather the coherence of an instrumental use of democratic opportunities.<br />
	Now, ethical non-cognitivism, in its variegated tendencies, puts forward as its essential claim <em>nothing other than</em> the following: a norm can never be justified without rational argumentation having, at a certain point, to have recourse to another norm (at a higher level) that acts as its criterion and ground of justification (the case is analogous if instead of norms we speak of values). Is it truly impossible to escape this logico-existential horizon (or curse, for some)? In which an evident infinite regression means that the last value (or the first, if you prefer) cannot, in its turn, be rationally grounded, but is ineluctably chosen (common or conflictual that it thus prove to be for the interlocutors).<br />
	No one has ever found a way out. Otherwise, any non-cognitivist - since, of course, the passion for truth is his North Star (as it is for all philosophers) - would have already gone over - lock, stock, and barrel - to the camp of ethical cognitivism.<br />
	But let us assume - for the sake of argument - that a choice, for example in favor of or against the lawfulness of euthanasia, is truly a question of "rational learning." Against the claim made by <em>Tom</em>, that euthanasia - understood as the assisted suicide of one who is tortured by a terminal illness - must be lawful because the decision regarding one's own life clearly belongs to the one who lives it, <em>Dick</em> will attempt to raise all the well-known objections, from the "slippery slope" to the cases of diminished responsibility (children, the mentally disabled). But, in the end, he will have nothing more to object, in the circumscribed case of responsible adults, apart from "life belongs to God," rather than to the individual who lives it; that is, a religious dogma. As a result <em>Dick</em> will not be able to assert this claim as an "argument" for the issuing of a law, since a law cannot discriminate against one who is not a believer, subjugating him to a "Truth" - "creaturality" - that is such only for faith.<br />
	But if he intended to continue to do so, thereby already violating the purely rational character of the discursive interaction, and as a diriment invoked the recourse to a vote (i.e., to the "mere ascertainment" of the relative weight of the two conflicting "opinions"), he ought to accept the condition that his own morality be put to the vote against <em>some other</em> morality advocated no less dogmatically. For example, against the morality that forces one to drink the cup of a life reduced to torture to the last drop, <em>Harry</em> could advocate a morality that demands it be snuffed out, because inhuman. And yet <em>Dick</em> would judge this vote to be inadmissible, even though <em>Harry's</em> morality is of a decisionistic and thus an irrational caliber that is certainly not greater than the dogmatic caliber of the God-argument.</p>

<p><strong>Unmutilated Reason and Minimum Reason</strong></p>

<p>Let us examine the conflict between two opposing moral norms in an actual case: namely, the legal obligation to bring a pregnancy to full term (attempted by means of laws and/or referendums both in Europe and in some states of the USA) or, vice versa, the obligation to terminate it, if one already has a child (imposed by the Chinese government to avoid social collapse due to overpopulation). To settle the conflict, if the two moralities should be proposed as laws in the same democratic country, the parties would have to come to an agreement on a meta-norm, i.e., on a procedure to decide. In this case there are only two possible procedures: either all individuals will decide for themselves according to their own morality (libertarian meta-norm), or one of the two moralities will come to be binding for everyone based on a vote (majority meta-norm). <em>Dick</em>, as we know, rejects the first procedure. But if he chooses the second, a majority might establish legitimately (because according to a procedure also accepted by <em>Dick</em>) that abortion after the first child is compulsory. <em>Dick</em>, however, will declare this majority decision to be illegitimate, and downright totalitarian (he did so, with the name of Karol Wojtyla, for far less - for the simple possibility of abortion in highly circumscribed cases - before the first freely-elected Polish parliament since World War II).<br />
	<em>Dick</em>, at the most and if you twist his arm, would accept a vote that decides between his substantive norm and the libertarian meta-norm (which was the law proposed by <em>Tom</em>), violating the principle of the equality between voters, because it claims <em>only for itself </em>the right to have the vote decide a moral content (unlawfulness of abortion and/or euthanasia), but denies <em>Harry's</em> "compassionate" morality or the Chinese government's "Malthusian" morality that right.<br />
	In short, to deny the pro-euthanasia and pro-abortion conclusion (<em>Tom's</em> proposal, in the form of "freedom of," autonomously decided by each), it is necessary to introduce "creaturalitalism" as a supreme value (in <em>one</em> of the many possible theologies to boot), while the recourse to rational argumentation <em>alone</em> involves the hierarchical superiority of the values implicated in the dialogue (equal dignity/freedom/power between the dialoguers) both with respect to the God-value of the "creaturalitarist" and to the "nature"- (or "race"-, etc.) value of the "Malthusian."<br />
	The rational undecidability between ultimate values is not a scholastic hypothesis of obtuse non-cognitivists but, rather, is an everyday reality in every ethically pluralist society. With <em>Dick</em> however the undecidability between ultimate values is also a contradiction, if <em>Dick</em>, while he continues to reject the right to euthanasia, and to demand the legal obligation to "live" the terminal torture to the bitter end, claims to reaffirm (as he generally does) his faithfulness to the values of liberal democracy.<br />
	<em>Dick</em>, moreover, can <em>even</em> deny the existence of such a logical and pragmatic contradiction, making any inclination to mutual understanding impossible also on this plane (an inclination that for Habermas is inherent in communicative action). Such obstinacy is understandable, because in admitting the contradiction he would have to recognize the <em>secondary</em> character of his adherence to democracy, compared to the primary value of the theocratic drive to make everyone respect God's will (possibly disguised as "natural law"). What is more, in recognizing that this hierarchy is, essentially, not rationally arguable, he would also reveal the <em>irrational</em> essence of faith.<br />
	In the end, not only is the cognitivist claim circular - not only is it inapplicable, in any case, to any articulated and pluralistic "life-world," in which other values are felt by some "dialoguers" to be more vital than argumentative rationality - but the rationality that everyone ought to have already internalized as the criterion of <em>supreme value</em> would be, then, precisely that "minimum rationality" of ascertainable fact + logic which Habermas has stigmatized again and again as a reifying, and therefore unacceptable, form of rationality. Any "more" would in fact be a further assumption of value.<br />
	Indeed: an "unmutilated reason" - i.e., one that exceeds "ascertained facts + logic" - must already contain a shared idea of "justice"; i.e., it must presuppose a shared supreme criterion of value. What is more, this criterion must constitute "a background knowledge that is <em>unproblematic</em> on the whole" (my italics) also with respect to the "totality of all the interpersonal relations regulated in a legitimate way,"  which is exactly what <em>never</em> occurs in political action, even if only discursive, as we have seen in the examples above.<br />
	Furthermore, political action is never only cooperative, it is simultaneously conflictual, even among those engaged "on the same side." Each, in the <em>common</em> purpose of achieving an aim or defeating an opponent, continues to cultivate also (and often especially) his <em>own</em> ends, and thus to envision a future for the common action different from that of his fellow militants (a future that is his "hope"). In the Barcelona of 1937, unanimously at war against "los quattros generales que se han alzados," the Stalinist massacres of anarchists and the POUM can be considered an extreme case, but even in peaceful situations the participants cooperating in a political action pursue mutually conflictual objectives (to strengthen or weaken a certain leadership, to prepare a subsequent action not agreed upon, etc.).<br />
	And since one's own action - which, as we have seen, is irreducible to a single "reasonable common objective" - is "stolen" and "bent" by the action of others (opponents, the indifferent), so that the heterogenesis of the ends represents not the exception but rather a particularly evident case of the very structure of acting, and since, as Hannah Arendt maintains and all crucial events have confirmed, action is unpredictable by nature (and its evolution and events are not calculable, otherwise it would not be action but, rather, routine), it could, paradoxically, be more "rational" to follow the ethics of conviction rather than the ethics of responsibility.<br />
	I cannot discuss in detail Habermasian "discourse ethics" here,  but shall attempt to do so on another occasion. In his reply, Habermas described his "proposals on the public role of religion" as "rather obvious," but he knows very well that this is the modesty of a skilful rhetorical move. The public role of religions is, today, one of the most controversial issues in the crisis of Western democracies, and will be even more so in the future. I hope, then, that the debate will not end here, and that a reply by Habermas to these more detailed objections will produce arguments that can convince me.<br />
</p>]]>
    </content>
</entry>

<entry>
    <title>Again Religion and the Public Sphere: a Response to Paolo Flores d&apos;Arcais</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.the-utopian.org/2009/02/000063.html" />
    <id>tag:www.the-utopian.org,2009://1.63</id>

    <published>2009-02-12T08:08:52Z</published>
    <updated>2009-02-12T08:22:04Z</updated>

    <summary></summary>
    <author>
        <name>Yascha Mounk</name>
        
    </author>
    
    
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://www.the-utopian.org/">
        
        <![CDATA[<p><br />
The fact that the '<a href="http://www.the-utopian.org/2009/02/000062.html">Eleven Theses Against Habermas</a>' (which I have only been able to read in English translation) were published a while ago makes it easier for me to look beyond their bellicose rhethoric. As I was reading the piece, I frequently asked myself who the author might possibly be addressing. After all, we both start from the premise that a contitutional democracy guarantees the same fundamental rights to all citizens. Such a legal system punishes discrimination against homosexuals, the practice of female genital mutilation, domestic violence, forced marriage, polygamy, the refusal of medical aid and even more so paedophilia or cannibalism. Hence every interpretation of the separation of church and state which would require toleration of such crimes is precluded from the beginning. Paolo Flores d'Arcais, who should grant me this logical insight, should therefore have asked himself what his misunderstanding is based on.</p>

<p>He should have known that we also share his second premise (which he develops in his last thesis), according to which a democratic constitution remains just a facade so long as the material and cultural conditions for an inclusive, equitable and autonomous use of the rights of participation is not fulfilled. The systematically induced external costs of failing markets and bureaucratic intervention must not be imposed upon those social groups which in any case cannot defend themselves. Equal rights of membership in a polity are irreconcilable with the growing social inequality which we see reflected, among other things, in the divisions of our own society. To safeguard the political and cultural preconditions for a political participation based on truly equal rights, however, is just as important as questions of social policy. This point - which can explain the attack on my rather trivial proposals for the public role of religion - is what I presume to be the source of the first divergence of our views.</p>

<p>Our first difference concerns the deliberative understanding of politics, while the second concerns the confessional monoculture of Italy and the third concerns the mentality of secularism.</p>

<p>(1) Though Paolo Flores d'Arcais pays lip service to „deliberative democracy", his eighth and ninth theses betray a non-cognitivistic understanding of moral norms and values, a positivistic understanding of law and a voluntaristic understanding of democracy. These underlying philosophical assumptions are not conformable with the deliberative core of the democratic process. They explain a certain lack of understanding of the functions which the political voices of citizens - their use of „public reason", as Rawls would say, following Kant - must perform in a political public dominated by the mass media. Without the use of such voices, politics will be unable to safeguard the democratic character of our societies, colonised by the market as they are. For the democratic process demands more than the bare act of consulting and aggregating dispositions and „values" which are inaccessible to arguments. We must, instead, be concerned with problems that need to be solved in a manner which respects the <em>equal concern owed to all citizens</em>, and hence is as just and as appropriate to the question at hand as possible. </p>

<p>If politics is understood as a problem-solving process in this manner, then democractic will-formation has a cognitive content from the perspective of justice no less than from that of pragmatism and empiricism. The democratic process can only create legitimacy in the same measure as it combines inclusion - the participation of, if possible, all citizens - with the discursive formation of opinions and the prospect of sensible results. This explains the central role of a public which is not deformed and of a cultural inheritance which is not faded. It must make possible a critical appropriation of vital content.</p>

<p>A<em> liberal public </em>constitutes the loosely structured periphery which surrounds the dense centre of the state; this public, in its own right, is rooted in civil society's even more fleeting networks of communication. The liberal public assures the circulation of political communication between <em>civil society</em> and the <em>state institutions</em> which make binding decisions. In its turn, civil society is embedded in a political culture which lays down the parameters of public discourse. A <em>liberal political culture</em> is like a movable scree constituted by time-tested empirical, ethical and moral reasons. Since it is receptive to impulses stemming from public communication, its elements can shift. </p>

<p>The condition of such a culture is measured by the precarious balance between the vibrant force of its inheritance and its openness for necessary revisions. Churches fit into this picture of a deliberatively-understood democratic will formation when in the political public they inhabit the role of „interpretative communities" - and limit themselves to it! Attached to their religious communities, churches have strong roots in civil society and draw upon historical sources. With their technically highly developed praxis of interpreting holy texts they are the heirs of those four or five world religions which, since the Axial Age, have woven the cultural pattern of the great civilisations without interruption. Often, something which has been lost elsewhere has remained intact in the life of religious communities; something which cannot easily be reproduced even with the professional knowledge of doctors and psychologists - I mean the sensibilities and sufficiently differentiated forms of expression necessary to grasp the manifestations of a failed life.</p>

<p>Especially since the rupture in the tradition of the labour movement and the weakening of all progressive movements, our hyper-capitalist societies - which reward only the exclusive focus on one's own success - are less and less sensitive to societal pathologies, to the failure of individual life plans, and to the deformation of life worlds. The Italy of Berlusconi is undoubtedly a good example. When it comes to clashes of values which have to be regulated politically, our religiously and ethically pluralistic societies are increasingly divided. This is why interpretative communities, which are at least still able to provide articulate contributions to repressed questions about a way to live together in solidarity, can resonate so strongly in them. </p>

<p>In that sense, MicroMega and its editor [Paolo Flores d'Arcais] may be exceptions. But can most formerly left-wing intellectuals really pride themselves on having forcefully resisted the de-politicisation of a purely mediatic public fashioned in the image of Berlusconi-TV? In any case, they should deny churches and religious communities neither the right nor the ability forcefully to make substantive contributions to disputes about legislation concerning abortion and euthanasia, bioethical questions concerning reproductive medicine or questions of animal rights and climate change. In most such cases, I myself have a different opinion. But in this and other questions the argumentative topography is so unclear that it is by no means a foregone conclusion which party can invoke the right moral intuitions. Concerning vulnerable areas of social life, religious traditions have the force convincingly to articulate moral intuitions in their own language. </p>

<p>(2) Paolo Flores d'Arcais argues that these considerations are misplaced, presumably because he has different examples in mind than I do. But the differences between countries which - like  Catholic Italy and the confessionally divided Germany - have developed different political cultures and have arrived at different legal settlements of the relationship between church and state, don't touch upon the principles of the separation of church and state. In all cases, a democratic constitution imposes limits on the public role of churches and religious communities. If they want to convince the members of a largely secular society, they would in any case be well-advised to present arguments which invoke not just their own moral intuitions, but also the moral intuitions of non-believers and the moral intuitions of those with other religious creeds. When churches are expressly addressing their own faithful, they should be talking to them as religious members of the <em>political</em> community rather than exercising a form of religious dictation. They must not put their <em>spiritual authority in the place of the kinds of justifications</em> which could find universal resonance. For example, I find the variety of „politics from the pulpit" which was commonplace in Germany under Adenauer impermissible and I would be the first to support Paolo Flores d'Arcais in a fight against such constitutionally dubious practices.</p>

<p>In this context another caveat is important. In a constitutional state, all legally <em>coercive</em> norms must be formulated in a language which all citizens can understand and they must also be capable of <em>public justification</em>. This much is a matter of course; it is not a reason against the participation of churches in the political public provided that the institutionalised processes of consultation and decision-making at the level of parliaments, courts of law, ministries and administrative agencies is clearly divorced from the informal participation of citizens in the formation of public opinion. The separation of church and state calls for a filter between these two spheres, which only allows „translated" - and therefore secular - contributions to penetrate from the Babylonian chaos of voices in the wider public to the agenda of state institutions. John Rawls deduced a now-famous „proviso" from this, which is highly contested in the US. Citizens and organisations which can or want to contribute to topics of public concern in religious language alone must know that the cognitive content of their contributions can only be part of the justification of potentially coercive political decisions if it is translated.</p>

<p>I do not understand why these conditions should be unrealistic. To be sure, they are not currently observed in the US. But every judge, every parliamentarian and every civil servant can easily be urged to abstain from speaking in religious terms, which are not equally accessible to all citizens, in his public office. For good reason, we do not know of any presidents praying publicly in Europe.</p>

<p>To be sure, the domain of the state, which has legitimate coercive measures at its disposal, must not open itself up to disputes between different religious communities; were this otherwise, the government could become but an organ imposing the will of the religious majority onto the opposition. But three normative reasons speak in favour of a liberal public. First, people who are neither willing nor capable of dividing up their moral convictions and vocabulary into profane and sacred elements must be able to contribute to political will-formation even in religious language. Second, solidarity between citizens demands that secular members of the same democratic polity speak to their religious fellow-citizens as equals rather than treating them as specimens of a protected species. Third, the democratic state should not prematurely reduce the polyphonic complexity of public voices because it cannot know whether this might not entail cutting society off from the sparse resources needed for a quest for meaning and identity.</p>

<p>(3) Surely it is no coincidence that a particularly militant form of secularism has grown in those European societies which have a Catholic monoculture. My secularist friends should not, however, prematurely invoke the objection that they don't at all wish to banish religious communities from the public, but wish merely to impose uncontroversial constitutional limitations onto it. For then they could not mistake the demand for a secular contitution of the state with the demand for a secular society. In particular, they would then have to distinguish more clearly between „secular" and „secularist". In contrast to secular persons or non-believers, who remain agnostic towards religious claims to validity, those who are secularist strike a polemical pose towards the public influence of religious doctrines. In their eyes, religious doctrines are discredited because they are scientifically unfounded. In the Anglo-Saxon world, secularism today invokes a hard naturalism which claims that the natural sciences should enjoy a monopoly of societally-accepted knowledge about the world. I think of this scientism as pure ideology. It is irreconcilable with a post-metaphysical mode of thought which applies the discursive force of secular (but not mutilated) reason to moral, ethical and aesthetic questions without thereby blurring the difference between belief and knowledge in any way. </p>

<p>At this point Paolo Flores d'Arcais raises his most serious objection. He does not understand how, given such a clear demarcation between belief and knowledge, it could still be possible to expect that content should be „translated" from one language into another. It is certainly true that any translation of a thought from a religious to a secular language must entail a loss of connotations. To render the idea that human beings were made „in the image of God" as „human dignity" is to loose the original connotation of man having been „created". Nevertheless, the core of its semantic content need not be lost. The incidental associations of other biblical contexts - such as the association of the Final Judgment, when God resolves the paradox of equal attention to the uniqueness of each individual life story with a judgment which is as strict as it is merciful - might even be helpful. In difficult cases, such as affect-laden discussions about the use of torture when interrogating terrorists, it may be that only images such as these can evoke the right moral sentiments from beneath the debris of political prejudices - even in those citizens who have a secular temperament. </p>

<p>At the same time, the right moral judgments preserve the propositional content of the relevant feelings when these prove resilient in discursive inquiry. We consider such moral affects, as well as the ability to inquire discursively into the universalization of moral norms as the common property of all persons who understand themselves as responsible originators of their own actions. This layer of semantic content need not remain shrouded in the clothing of religious language. </p>

<p>The Enlightenment's polemical relationship <em>with the secular power</em> of religion has obscured the fact that post-metaphysical thinking has absorbed content from the Judeo-Christian tradition which is no less important than the inheritance of Greek metaphysics. And are we sure that this process of discursive absorption of religious content has been concluded? Can post-metaphysical thinking exclude the possibility that our religious inheritance might have semantic potentials which - when they offer <em>profane</em> truth contents - can develop an inspirational power for the <em>whole</em> of society? From Kierkegaard to Benjamin, Levinas and Derrida there have always been „religious authors" who - irrespective of their personal dispositions - have made theological content relevant to secular thinking. </p>

<p>The secular character of this mode of thinking is already evident from an anthropocentric turn which is diametrically opposed to a theocentric perspective. A dilution of the separation between „belief" and „knowledge" thus does not follow from the fact that post-metaphysical thinking has been inspired by religious doctrines. Even if semantic contents can cross this divide with a mere change of prefix, the two different modes of ‚accepting-as-true' remain unaffected. The propositions are supported by their  respective - but different - justificatory foundations and are thus connected to claims to validity which differ from each other in kind and extent.</p>

<p><br />
</p>]]>
    </content>
</entry>

</feed>
