Encountering Islam
By Algis Valiunas Claremont Review of Books, May 7, 2007
Edited by Andy Ross
In 1978, Edward Said published
Orientalism, a study that condemns virtually all Western literature and
scholarship on Islamic matters as an instrument of imperialism.
Yesterday's Clash of Civilizations
François-Auguste-René, Vicomte de Chateaubriand, said the Arabs may live "in
the Orient whence all the arts, all the sciences, all the religions
emerged," but they are little better than primitives now: "with the American
Indian everything declares that the savage has never reached the state of
civilization, while with the Arab everything indicates that the civilized
man has fallen back into a state of savagery." Further: "Accustomed to
follow the fortunes of a master, they have no law that connects them to
ideas of order and political moderation: to kill, when one is the stronger,
seems to them a legitimate right; they exercise that right or submit to it
with the same indifference. They don't know liberty; they have no property
rights; force is their God." In Said's view, these are all calumnies.
Rule Over the Muslim
Alexis de Tocqueville, whose writings on Algeria Said does not mention,
tells a different story. In his two
Letters on Algeria (1837) he praises the Kabyles: they love their
freedom so much that should "you wish to visit them in their mountains, even
if you came with the best intentions in the world, even if you had no aim
but to speak about morality, civilization, fine arts, political economy, or
philosophy, they would assuredly cut off your head." The coastal Arabs "love
war, pomp, and tumult above all." In his
First Report on Algeria (1847) he deplores the colonial administration:
"Muslim society in Africa was not uncivilized; it was merely a backward and
imperfect civilization." Although Tocqueville does not doubt that France
should have an empire in Muslim lands, his moderation and delicacy seek to
transform the bloody clash of civilizations into a relatively gentle
reconciliation. Said has no place for him in his rogues' gallery of Oriental
travelers.
Sympathy and Disgust
Edward William Lane was author of
An Account of the Manners and Customs of the Modern Egyptians (1836,
revised 1860), translator of
The Thousand and One Nights, and compiler of the
Arabic-English Lexicon. Said typically faults him as overbearing,
presumptuously encyclopedic, and unable to establish a human connection with
his Egyptian subjects. But in fact Lane writes with an appealing sense of
human comedy, as in the description of the Egyptian child's religious
upbringing: "He receives also lessons of religious pride, and learns to hate
the Christians, and all other sects but his own, as thoroughly as does the
Muslim in advanced age." Of those whom the Muslim hates, Jews enjoy pride of
place: "It is common to hear an Arab abuse his jaded ass, and, after
applying to him various opprobrious epithets, end by calling the beast a
Jew."
John Lloyd Stephens, author of
Incidents of Travel in Egypt, Arabia Petraea, and the Holy Land (1837)
also wields a skeptical intelligence lightly in his encounters with Muslim
superstition: "It was strange to be brought into such immediate contact with
the disciples of fatalism. If we did not reach the point we were aiming at,
God willed it; if it rained, God willed it; and I suppose that, if they had
happened to lay their black hands upon my throat, and stripped me of
everything I possessed, they would have piously raised their eyes to heaven,
and cried, ‘God wills it.'" Stephens finds much in his travels to offend
him, and his composure is often strained to the breaking point.
In
Gustave Flaubert's record of his journey to Egypt in 1849-1850, he gambols
through Egypt as a sex tourist. Upon leaving the bed of the celebrated
courtesan Kuchuk Hanem, Flaubert roars, "I felt like a tiger." The
caterwauling of dervishes in rapture also has its appeal for the traveler:
"Just the evening before, we had been in a monastery of dervishes where we
saw one fall into convulsions from shouting 'Allah!' These are very fine
sights, which would have brought many a good laugh from M. de Voltaire.
Imagine his remarks about the poor old human mind! About fanaticism!
Superstition! None of it made me laugh in the slightest, and it is all too
absorbing to be appalling. The most terrible thing is their music." It is
the preposterous human mind that most bemuses Flaubert.
Humor and Hypocrisy
In
The Innocents Abroad (1869), Mark Twain manages to be simultaneously
amused and appalled, and by things that are mostly just appalling. In the
Valley of Lebanon he remarks on the startling absence of technological
advancement, the woeful persistence of pig-ignorance. "The plows these
people use are simply a sharpened stick, such as Abraham plowed with, and
they still winnow their wheat as he did — they pile it on the house-top, and
then toss it by shovel-fulls into the air until the wind has blown all the
chaff away. They never invent anything, never learn anything." The varied
tone of Twain's book captures the American ambivalence toward the Muslim
world that persists to this day.
Sir Richard Francis Burton, the
nonpareil linguist, inspired translator of
The Arabian Nights, and author of
Personal Narrative of a Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah (1855),
enjoys a reputation as one of the travelers most sympathetic to the Muslim
world. As an "amateur barbarian," he posed as an Indian Muslim doctor and
made the hajj to Mecca and Medina. He also said many flattering things about
the Islamic world: the "Moslem may be more tolerant, more enlightened, more
charitable, than many societies of self-styled Christians." Burton's regard
for the Orient extended only so far. He ultimately held European
civilization not only superior, but fit to rule the East for its own good.
He does not hesitate to call the outlandish aspects of the Muslim faith what
they are: "The same tongue which is employed in blessing Allah is, it is
conceived, doing its work equally well in cursing Allah's enemies. Wherefore
the Kafir is denounced by every sex, age, class, and condition, by the man
of the world, as by the boy at school; and out of, as well as in, the
Mosque."
The most famous description of the higher and lower Muslim
natures comes in Charles M. Doughty's classic,
Travels in Arabia Deserta (1888). Doughty made his way into the Arabian
desert without attempting to hide the fact that he was a Nasrany — a
Nazarene, a Christian — whose very presence most Arabs regarded as "a
calamity in their land." Doughty pays the price: he is beaten, robbed,
imprisoned, and threatened with death, all for what one tormentor calls his
"misreligion." The true enemy, he cries, is the religion that is a "Chimaera
of human self-love, malice, and fear!" When a friendly Arab advises him to
avoid this tribulation by nominally converting to Islam, Doughty's Christian
fatalism is as obdurate as the Muslim's usually is. Doughty's encounter
shows the clash of civilizations as a mortal danger.
Going Native
T.E. Lawrence, Lawrence of Arabia, hoped that the defeat of the Ottoman
Empire would produce free Arab nations. In
Seven Pillars of Wisdom: A Triumph (1926), Lawrence calls the struggle,
in which he was the chief hero, an "Arab war waged and led by Arabs for an
Arab aim in Arabia." The book shows him instructing his Arab charges in the
practice of civilized warfare, which requires a cool head. Lawrence teaches
the men whom he leads, and whom he professes to serve, how to unite their
disparate forces and conduct war not for blood-anger or trifling prizes, but
for their freedom. Yet guilt for his failure to secure Arab freedom nearly
breaks Lawrence: "In my case, the effort for these years to live in the
dress of Arabs, and to imitate their mental foundation, quitted me of my
English self, and let me look at the West and its conventions with new eyes:
they destroyed it all for me. At the same time I could not sincerely take on
the Arab skin: it was an affectation only."
In
The Valleys of the Assassins (1934), Freya Stark, whose Times (of
London) obituary called her "the last of the Romantic Travellers," goes in
quest of the heirs to the medieval Persian sect known as the Assassins, an
offshoot of the Ismaili, a Shia branch famed for its learning. Not
unexpectedly, she finds no worthy successors. What she does find is the
imbecile inertia that seems standard in those parts. A friend refuses a
doctor's help for his seriously ill daughter, who would be violated if a man
were to see her; the girl of course dies. An opium-smoking doctor shrugs
when she observes that his habit will kill him, showing the "melancholy
fatalism which is all that the East promises to retain in the absence of
religion." ...
Robert Byron, author of
The Road to Oxiana (1937), searches for a bygone Muslim epoch of light.
In Afghanistan of all places, in the city of Herat, now "but a name and a
ghost," there occurred the superb efflorescence of a Muslim civilization
that truly knew how to live: the Timurid Renascence of the 15th century. The
flower of Islamic humanism is long wilted. An Afghan consul in Persia tells
Byron that Balkh is "a historical city, the Home of the Aryan Race." This
fevered claim relieves the ignominy of what these people actually are now.
Wilfred Thesiger, whose journeys through the Empty Quarter of Arabia in
1945-1950 are recounted in
Arabian Sands (1959), mourns the demise of the Bedouin way of life even
as he honors its putative glory. The "Arabian Nightmare," the new world
introduced by the oil prospectors in 1950, essentially renders Bedouin life
extinct. He idealizes the fierce manliness of the Bedu: "Among no other
people have I felt the same sense of personal inferiority." Thesiger goggles
rapturously at their most flagrant barbarities. He tells an awful tale in
which a Saar herdsman fired at a gang of camel rustlers and killed a
teenaged boy; the next day the dead boy's father and his men come upon a
14-year-old Saar boy and stab him to death. "Vindictive as this age-old law
of a life for a life and a tooth for a tooth might be, I realized none the
less that it alone prevented wholesale murder among a people who were
subject to no outside authority, and who had little regard for human life."
Today's Clash of Civilizations
When Ryszard Kapuscinski, the late Polish author of
Shah of Shahs (1982), goes among the brutes, he knows where he is. Iran
had intense 20th-century longings for civilization, but no decent regime
ever came out alive. Shah Reza Khan rubbed the Allies the wrong way, and in
1941 the British solicited his abdication in favor of his 22-year-old son,
Mohamed Reza Pahlavi. The new shah justified his terror as necessary
protection for his project of building a "Great Civilization" in Iran. In
1973, flush with oil money, he promised that in ten years Iranian living
standards would equal Western Europe's. But no Great Civilization was to
come from an Islamic revolution. Kapuscinski shuddered at the spectacle of a
million people praying en masse in Tehran's great square.
V.S.
Naipaul writes of Iran in
Among the
Believers: An Islamic Journey (1981). The revolutionary order is founded
by men "without political doctrine, only with resentments." What he sees
wherever he goes in Iran is rage, directed principally against all things
Western and modern. A student informs him that "Islam was the only thing
that made humans human." A Malaysian confidently tells Naipaul "if you know
the Koran you know everything." This wretched fundamentalism dooms any hope
of genuine spiritual and material advancement. The only hope Naipaul sees is
in the adoption of modern ways. In
Beyond Belief: Islamic Excursions among the Converted Peoples (1998), he
allows just the glimmer of a possibility that religious barbarism might have
proven so self-destructive that for some the despised universal civilization
seems the only wise alternative.
The Travelers' Truth
Someone who reads only Edward Said may come away convinced that his argument
is true. But to read in the travel literature he disparages is to see how
wrong he is. The travelers' tales do not originate in malevolent prejudice
or issue in gross distortion; rather they are drawn from carefully observed
reality. Of the travelers, Chateaubriand is really alone in the depth of his
loathing for Islam. Among the others, even those who are justly horrified by
the barbarities they witness, a moderate and sensible spirit prevails, while
some of the 20th-century travelers feel as much at home in Arabia or
Afghanistan as in England. But they and their fellow writers also show that
the clash of civilizations is real and that the conflict will not be over
any time soon.
Defending the West
By Rebecca Bynum New English Review, December 2007
Edited by Andy Ross
Edward Said viewed reality through the prism of Muslim culture and
applied this worldview to his study of history resulting in a reductionist
and simplistic thesis.
Ibn Warraq demonstrates in scholarly detail
the flaws in Said's assumptions and methods. At the bottom of
Said's failures lies a stubborn unwillingness
to comprehend the core of western thought.
The
pursuit of knowledge for its own sake is taken for granted in western
society. Yet this most basic aspect of western civilization is continually
miscomprehended by the Muslim world.
For the
Islamic mind, good is defined as what is good for Islam or good
for the Muslim community. Goodness as a concept apart from Islam
does not exist, much less as a transcendent value which can be realized in
the soul. Therefore knowledge
is only good if it advances Islamic societal goals.
Said seems to
think Western study of the East had
no purpose but the further conquest and humiliation of the East.
Ibn Warraq has
dared to throw off the mental shackles of Islam. His study of Islam is motivated by simple
love of the truth.


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