THE WILL OF NATIONS

O.T. FORD
2002 March 17

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Hundreds of Indians have now died in recent communal attacks. I say ‘Indians’, since ‘persons’ would be too general, and I am referring to persons in a specific part of the world; but beyond that the term ‘Indians’ is far too presumptuous. The hazy idea of “India” is part of the problem. Clearly the feelings exhibited, leading to gruesome mass murders, are not of fellowship.

Hindustān, the Indian cultural region, is best defined by reference to the two central elements of ancient Indian culture, संस्कृतम् Sãskŗtam and हिन्दू धर्म Hindū D‛arma. Hindustān would be the entire extent of the संस्कृत Sãskŗtic languages and modern हिन्दू धर्म Hindū D‛arma. That would encompass Dravira Hindūs, and বাংলােদশী Bāŋlādeśī مسلمون Muslimūn; it would incorporate not only most of the Indian state, but also much of پاکستان Pākistān and नेपाल Nēpāl, and all of বাংলােদশ Bāŋlādeś and ශ්‍රී ලංකා Śrī Lãkā. Of course, there are more restrictive cultural groupings, of persons with stronger common bonds, such as a single language. But all such considerations are fairly objective, codifiable by cultural anthropologists who can trace patterns on a map.

But there is a more personal concept of nationhood, based on the self-identification of individuals with a larger group, a sense of belonging, possibly dependent on common features such as language and religion, and race and history, but also to some extent defying anthropological explanation. भारत B‛ārat, the Indian nation, is not even as large as the Indian state, excluding all of those whose attachment is to minority nations, like the தமிழ் Tamiz. Nationality is largely in the mind. And psychology is an impossible science.

محمد Muham:ad is a rare figure in history, possibly unique. To the extent that the stories about him are true, he forged a nation from his own will. Before then, the اعراب ’Acrāb existed as an ethnolinguistic group, but they were divided and scattered, not bearing the sense of identity that a modern nation exhibits. He began with a comprehensive religious reform, used that new religion to unite the عربى Carabī tribes, and eventually began the conquest of what has become the عربى Carabī world, a conquest that spread their culture and their new religion across North Africa and into Europe.

But the expansion of الاسلام ’al-’Islām was not pursued through conquest primarily. The early مسلم Muslim leaders, and محمد Muham:ad himself, were politicians, and astute ones ― but not always. One of their devices was syncretism, the rather-seductive idea among faith-makers that religions can expand by incorporating believers of other religions, generally by adopting elements of their faiths. Thus משה Mošeh and ישוע Ješūac are اسلامى ’Islāmī prophets, and the עברית Cibrīt archangel גבריאל Gabrī’el is the mediant author of القرآن ’al-Qur’ān. For a time محمد Muham:ad had his followers pray towards ירושלם Jerūšalem, in hopes that the sanctification of the city under الاسلام ’al-’Islām would cement the adherence of Jews and Christians to his new faith. One city, one god, one last prophet. When this failed, the اسلامى ’Islāmī faith was reoriented, literally, towards مكة Makkaĥ. But the خلافة xilāfaĥ maintained the project, and محمد Muham:ad was later said to have ascended to heaven from the Temple Mount in ירושלם Jerūšalem, the location of the temple of שלמה Šəlomoh and therefore the geographical center of Judaism on Earth. When the opportunity presented itself, the مسلمون Muslimūn dropped a مسجد masĝid down on the very spot, and decreed it الاسلام ’al-’Islām’s third holiest site. Whether the whole thing was cynical or earnest I do not know, but its result was disastrous, for of course it did not persuade the Jews to convert, had the contrary effect in fact, and we are left with مسلمون Muslimūn, particularly اعراب ’Acrāb, and most particularly فلسطينيون Filastīnīūn claiming land for religious reasons that was claimed for the same reasons by another group first. So they fight. Ultranationalist אריאל שרון ’Arī’el Šaroŭn visits the Temple Mount, as an ultranationalist will by nature do, and the فلسطينيون Filastīnīūn, in supposed response, unleash another انتفاضة ’intifādaĥ. This proves only that groups generally, and the فلسطينيون Filastīnīūn specifically, cannot strategize; for the direct consequence of their انتفاضة ’intifādaĥ was the reactive election by the Jews of a nationalist government headed by ― one guess.

On the question of Palestine, generally I am more sympathetic to the Jews, knowing that the שואה Šoŭ’ah was merely the culmination of centuries of persecution. The Jews could not rely on anyone else to defend them; they resolved to defend themselves. They could not live under a tolerant majority; they resolved to be the majority themselves. And, it must be said, the اعراب ’Acrāb in the last fifty years have done much to dissipate any sympathy. During the دولتِ عَليه عُثمانيه Deŭlet-i Calīhe-i Coþmānīhe, they may have been a romantic oppressed people, but since that time their societies have produced little but military and feudal dictatorships, and have fought among themselves, and have fought with neighboring states including ישראל Jiśra’el, and have treated women, Jews, other minorities, and their own dissidents with harsh and even cruel force. Even the فلسطينيون Filastīnīūn have damaged their own sympathetic image, not only through repeated barbarous attacks on innocents, but also through their long-held insistence on the complete destruction of ישראל Jiśra’el.

And yet the ישראלים Jiśra’elīm have also harmed their own cause with their actions. They may rightly claim to be a democracy in a sea of dictatorship, but ישראל Jiśra’el is a colonial democracy, in the manner of the British and ROMANA empires. Only the full citizens get to decide how the state is governed. There are many subjects of the state who are not granted citizenship and those democratic rights; in ישראל Jiśra’el’s case this means, of course, the فلسطينيون Filastīnīūn. And ישראל Jiśra’el’s methods of dealing with its restless disenfranchised minority are a distressing simulacrum of war ― bombings, blockades, commando raids, and even assassination. The situation in the current uprising has finally brought about opposition within the military, with reservists, both soldiers and officers, refusing to serve in the occupied territories. Service in the army is mandatory for ישראלים Jiśra’elīm, so this is not the equivalent of unrest among career soldiers; but it does show the strain of this conflict on ישראלי Jiśra’elī society.

हिन्दू धर्म Hindū D‛arma, meanwhile, has always been a uniquely tolerant and accommodating religion ― witness even today the genuine affection for the essentially-missionary work of Teresa of কলকাতা Kalkātā. That tolerance is wearing off, though, and has led in this century to the formation of several िहनदू Hindū revivalist organizations, one of which leads the central government of भारत B‛ārat. हिन्दू धर्म Hindū D‛arma flows through Hindustān like its great rivers, always present even if the foreground shows another story. But it has faded over the centuries, particularly to the favor of الاسلام ’al-’Islām, and at last the true believers awoke to vigilance for their hitherto-undefended faith, vigilance that led to the destruction of the बाबरी Bābarī مسجد masĝid in अयोधया Ajōd‛jā. The story of अयोधया Ajōd‛jā is disputed, of course, but I have no trouble believing that the مسلمون Muslimūn deliberately built a مسجد masĝid on the site sacred to Hindūs as the birthplace of रामा Rāmā, with the intention of hastening the conversion of the Hindūs. While the project of conversion has seen success, it has not achieved its objective, nor could have, using that method. Syncretism doesn’t work. If the Unitarians don’t make it work, no one will ― and no one will.

عربى Carabī culture will always be central and in a leading role in الاسلام ’al-’Islām. The holy center of الاسلام ’al-’Islām is an عربى Carabī city. The sacred language of القرآن ’al-Qur’ān, and therefore of الله ’al-Lah himself, is عربى Carabī. The عربى Carabī script and many عربى Carabī words and names have been adopted throughout the اسلامى ’Islāmī world. But the status of الاسلام ’al-’Islām as a proselytizing religion diminishes its national character. مسلمون Muslimūn may read عربى Carabī for religious purposes, but they chat in their local tongues. And there are other cultures, particularly فارسى Fārsī, that have contributed to common اسلامى ’Islāmī culture.

Considered within itself, the عربى Carabī nation is rather unified: there is geographical contiguity, linguistic unity (in a two-tier or “diglossia” system), and religious near-homogeneity. But the political situation is one of great complexity. Eighteen contiguous states are dominated by سنى Sunnī اعراب ’Acrāb with a common formal language, and in every case the only significant minorities are also اعراب ’Acrāb or also مسلمون Muslimūn or both. This political array is bordered on the east, and in part on the north and south, by states also dominated by مسلمون Muslimūn.

It is in that context that the question of Palestine must be considered. The فلسطينيون Filastīnīūn claim a national right to the land, belonging to them, the فلسطينيون Filastīnīūn, even though many were born in exile; and this is ultimately no different from the Zionist movement that they so despise. The Jews remember a time when Palestine was theirs; they, too, were displaced, and they, too, believe in a national right to reclaim the land. Of course, by their own (unreliable but telling) history, the Jews were not aboriginal to Palestine. But they predated the اعراب ’Acrāb, and the اعراب ’Acrāb, they would point out, have eighteen states of their own, many of them completely to themselves, and several in the land of their origin, which was not Palestine. When it suits the فلسطينيون Filastīnīūn, they will claim to be عربى Carabī, for this brings the national sympathies of all the عربى Carabī people in on their side. But they cannot argue for Palestine on that basis, for the اعراب ’Acrāb have so much land already. So then the فلسطينيون Filastīnīūn must distinguish themselves, point out that they are indigenous to Palestine, and have no homeland of their own, having been displaced by the Zionist Jews. And they use religious claims as well.

Back in Hindustān, the dispensation of the disputed land at अयोधया Ajōd‛jā hinges on who got to it first, or perhaps who cares about it more; but clearly neither side will concede these points. Again, unfortunately, my natural sympathies lie against the مسلمون Muslimūn, since for them it is one holy site among many and fairly low on the list, and its sacredness is almost certainly derivative of its original sacredness to the Hindūs. And yet the whole thing is, as I have been driving at, bunk. I am not religious, and have little tolerance for the arguments thrown about by all sides.

The اعراب ’Acrāb and the Jews and the Hindūs have all, in their way, been great nations of history; and the اعراب ’Acrāb in particular must be recognized for the power they are and have been. Though I may seem negative towards them and their religion, it is mostly negativity towards nations and religions; though an acknowledgement of the great achievements of عربى Carabī civilization in the past does not excuse the almost-universal failure of that civilization to dwell in the world of modern liberalism. But no matter. The اعراب ’Acrāb have done good things. They have done much that was not good. So with the Jews and the Hindūs.

The point of this tale of three cultures is to illustrate not so much my own intolerance, but the futility of treating with nations. Nations indeed are the agents of history; they, more than the celebrated “great men”, determine the flow of events. And individuals comprised by these nations have even less to do with history, seemingly. Oh, to be sure, nations are technically nothing more than the individuals within them. But the constant spirit of a nation that persists through the birth and death of individuals, through the complete replacement of the nation’s elements every few generations, does in some ways give it a life beyond individuals, for the individuals are taught the lessons of that spirit and give it continuity when they fail to break free from its teachings. So if we want to understand the past, we must study the nations.

But if we want to control the future, we must throw them down. This tyranny of nations is killing us, literally. Yes, blame the individuals who firebombed the train in Hindustān. They should be held personally responsible. But it is wrong to excuse the nations. To drag the nations into court for an atrocity is impossible. To blame a nation, and thus the innocent individuals within it, is politically incorrect. But it is necessary. Where did these extremists get their motivation? The innocent members of nations are not so innocent if they do not recognize their nations for what they are. They are hives. They are assemblies of drones acting with a collective will. Our fault is in trying to reform them, to mediate among them, to placate them. Never. We shouldn’t worry about which of them gets dibs on this or that piece of land, who got where first, who, for God’s sake, started it, like we are watching two teenagers fighting over a sweatshirt. Come to think of it, perhaps we are. For all of the ancientry of the three nations, do they not in fact behave like adolescents, like immature, confused beings struggling to make some sense of the world? Don’t all nations? And yet, we would not think of treating human adolescents as adults. We would not give them the same responsibility. We would not give them the same authority. We would certainly not allow them to make decisions for adults. When we allow that power to the nations, we are abrogating our own responsibility.

So is this slavery to the will of nations a transgression committed only by a few extremists in another part of the world? To believe so would be too convenient. Does the mighty will of nations only tell us to hate, and, when we do not hate, are we somehow free of its power? To believe so would be too dismissive. For like a true child, the will of nations is not possessed of hate. It merely wants to understand, but it does not. And when it does not understand, it acts out of fear and confusion. Perhaps it lashes out in violence. Perhaps it resigns itself to suffering. All of this may be sad. It may move us to pity. But of course, the will of nations is not a real child that we need pity. It is not a real child that we need nurture. If it presumes to dictate our actions, and we see in that presumption the act of a child, we cannot rebuke the child until we first cease to submit to its authority. And, miraculously, when we do, the nations become the less. By remaining within the nations, we augment the power of their will. If we remove ourselves entirely, the will of nations will immediately vanish. So perishes a child, perhaps; but anyone who has seen the death of a real child caused by the will of nations should have no trouble making the choice.

© O.T. FORD