Arts & Ammo

Rwandans’ Perspective on Genocide

Anthony Daniels reviews Jean Hatzfeld’s trilogy about the Rwandan genocide in New Criterion: “Fear of Regress,” New Criterion, Feb. 2008. (Registration is required to view the article on line.) Hatzfeld’s trilogy includes Life Laid Bare, Machete Season, and The Strategy of Antelopes.

Daniels asks whether there are human experiences so terrible that they lie beyond rational explanation. He first juxtaposes the viewpoint expressed by some that all human ills can be diagnosed and that science has power to alleviate them against his own belief that “[l]ife has depths that cannot be plumbed by technical means.”

Hundreds of thousands of Tutsis (an estimated 80% of the Tutsi population) were killed by Hutus in the 1994 genocide. Hatzfeld interviewed numerous survivors:

That morning I had run into the marsh behind an old woman I knew. We were crouching silently in the water. The killers discovered her first, and I saw them cut her [the word “cut” is used throughout by all witnesses, survivors and perpetrators alike, to mean kill with machete, a euphemism that, oddly enough, magnifies rather than diminishes the horror of the proceeding] without bothering to drag her from the bog. They searched the surrounding foliage with the utmost care, because they knew all too well that a woman never just is by herself. They found me, holding my child in my arms. They slaughtered my child. I asked to go out onto the grass and not die in the filth of slime and blood where the old woman was already lying. There were two men; I have not forgotten one feature of their faces. They dragged me out into the papyrus and clubbed me, laying me out straightaway with a first blow on the forehead, without cutting my throat. Often they would leave the wounded in the mud for a day or two before returning to finish them off. As for me … they simply forgot to come back there.

Daniels says the Rwandan genocide is distinctive for not being carried out mainly by agents of the state, but rather by the general population. “[T]he perpetrators were ordinary people – not hardened psychopaths – who were often polite to their Tutsi neighbors, played football with them, helped them in the fields when they needed help, even counted them as friends, and so forth.” This makes more inexplicable “the sheer brio, the unbridled joy of the killers.” Hutu perpetrators were also interviewed:

I haven’t retained a single deplorable trace of the killings. I have learnt to accept what happened in the marshes. I have become a better person than before, with the same character. I had been dragged into an unknown nastiness, I have been corrected in prison, I have learnt to avoid quarreling with the survivors, I have put aside the desire for revenge.

Daniels notes that this perpetrator “who seems to think that a genocide can be reduced to a learning experience” has married a Tutsi girl, many of whom were reportedly kept alive for sexual purposes for a time and killed when their captor tired of them or when their presence was discovered by other Hutus.

Rather than recapitulating the debate in the West over whether we were complicit in the genocide, this account focuses on the Rwandan perspective. No doubt efforts to provide aid in the wake of the genocide are laudable and perhaps obligatory, but the efforts of benevolent outsiders to restore normalcy bespeak the West’s apparent inability to fathom real suffering. One of the survivors explains:

Who, in the end, speaks of forgiveness? The Tutsis, the Hutus, the freed prisoners, their families? None of them, it’s the humanitarian organizations. They import forgiveness into Rwanda, which they wrap in plenty of dollars to convince us. There is a Forgiveness Plan just as there is an AIDS Plan, with meetings to spread the message, posters, little local presidents, very polite whites in turbo-charged 4×4s. These humanitarians teach the teachers and encourage the local counsellors. They finance various aid projects. We, we speak of forgiveness in order to be thought well of, and because the subsidies can be lucrative.

The eloquence of the farmers and villagers who give their accounts strikes Daniels as something our own population would lack. They speak “in a way that is immediately accessible to us; it does not take a social anthropologist, with a deep knowledge of the local customs, to understand what they say.” One Tutsi reflects:

Having lived the killings, my theories have changed, philosophical thoughts no longer convince me, I mistrust classical ideas, I no longer respect logic as I ought. I have learned to allow for the unthinkable, to expect any surprise, to reflect anxiously on everything. I see treason behind all thought. No explanation satisfies me. I am always mistrustful. I want always to know what is really happening behind what happens.

Daniels tells us convincingly why Hatzfeld’s trilogy deserves to be read. It is not to find an explanation or diagnosis. Rather, the book lays bare “our modern pretensions to understand ourselves at long last in a fundamental way,” for there is no point at which we can say we understand.

February 19th, 2008 Posted by Fitzroy | Politics | no comments

America, the Ignorant

Power Line’s John Hinderaker comments on Susan Jacoby’s recent article, “The Dumbing of America.” John finds her arguments less than convincing. I think he’s on to something, and suggest you read his comments, but I think Jacoby’s article is most noteworthy for what it omits.

Jacoby attributes our collective stupidity to three things:

• First and foremost, video and the corresponding decline in newspaper reading (Jacoby is a journalist).
• Second, the erosion of general knowledge. Here she recounts FDR’s fireside chat asking Americans to get out their maps to understand the geography of battle. What has changed? Well, she says it’s a different country as well as a different presidency, and our knowledge of geography is deficient.
• Third, arrogance about our lack of knowledge, what Jacoby labels “anti-rationalism.”

I would concede that video is a poor substitute for reading, that many are woefully ignorant of geography, and that there are ways in which we celebrate our ignorance. But my biggest dispute with Jacoby is that she attributes the entire phenomenon of dumbness to her little list of causes cited above. Introducing her argument on anti-rationalism, she says:

“That leads us to the third and final factor behind the new American dumbness: . . .” (emphasis added).

Surely Jacoby’s list is not exhaustive and this is not the final factor. Most of us could, with scant reflection, provide several additional factors. And dumbness is neither particularly new nor peculiarly American as Jacoby contends.

True, ignorance of geography can seriously hamper one’s understanding of world events. Even in the absence of FDR, however, we should expect better analysis of the current war from our newspapers – something pertaining to our strategy, maybe even maps – and not simply a tabulation of dead. It doesn’t take a president to do this; any editor can make it happen. Try Googling “Iraq war strategy.” You will find numerous references to the political strategies of Republicans and Democrats, but not much on the military strategy that should inform the discussion. What kind of American dumbness impels the media to blather about the political strategies at home without examining the underlying military strategy? Perhaps one that values opinions over facts.

And while we’re lamenting the lack of general knowledge and the celebration of ignorance, we would do well to take a closer look at what passes for higher education in America and its systematic deconstruction of the foundations of Western culture. Jacoby does acknowledge “a disjunction between Americans’ rising level of formal education and their shaky grasp of basic geography, science and history.” The disjunction extends also to the arts, literature, religion, and philosophy. It is a disjunction perpetrated in no small part by so-called intellectuals who run our educational institutions, and it is misleading for Jacoby to chalk the problem up simply to “anti-intellectualism.” When we equate all cultures, all art, all philosophies, and can no longer exercise judgment about their relative merit, then we can claim ignorance of far greater significance than Jacoby describes. This is the ignorance to which higher education increasingly calls us.

February 18th, 2008 Posted by Fitzroy | Education, Politics | one comment

Looking for a Martini Diva?

Any blog entitled “Martini Diva” needs to be checked out. Of course, it goes without saying that a martini is made with gin, and anything else requires an adjective in the name. The Martini Diva fosters some confusion on this well-settled issue. And I can’t agree with the Martini Diva’s assertion that there are no bad martinis. It is possible even with the limited ingredients of gin and vermouth to make a bad martini. If you expand the definition of martini to include anything served in a martini glass, then the possibility of making a bad one is undeniable (and the likelihood high). The Martini Diva adopts this definition, losing all sight of the distinction between the substance and its container. It’s kind of like saying anything you put in your fuel tank is gasoline and anything in your shoe is a foot.

But the Martini Diva provides a history of martinis and recipes for things that might taste just fine served in most any container. There is even a martini for dogs, and I think my dogs might benefit from a good dog martini, inspiring them to greater sophistication and perhaps chilling their ardor for chasing skunks. Check it out.

February 15th, 2008 Posted by Fitzroy | Leisure | no comments

Maazel Is No Fleisher

Scott Spiegelberg at Musical Perceptions points approvingly to pianist Leon Fleisher’s aversion to going to a White House occupied by George Bush and to conductor Lorin Maazel’s eagerness to perform for Kim Jong-il in North Korea.

It’s easy to find approval these days shunning the supposed dictator Bush while cozying up to real dictators elsewhere.

In a Washington Post column, Fleisher expressed dismay at being “required to attend” a White House reception as part of the Kennedy Center honors bestowed on him and not being able to opt out of this event and still claim his prize. Fleisher gave the usual litany of reasons for avoiding the White House: “systematic shredding of the constitution,” illegal war, torture, Bush’s defense of the “rights” of embryos, and the “flagrant dismantling of environmental protections.” Ultimately, Fleisher opted to go to the White House wearing a peace symbol and purple ribbon.

Without the slightest acknowledgment of contradiction, Spiegelberg lauds Maazel’s decision to take the New York Philharmonic to North Korea. Spiegelberg links to an “excellent interpretation” of Maazel’s response to “conservative criticism” of the tour by the blogger and violist Charles Noble. Noble characterizes Maazel’s remarks as “not the most eloquent statement,” but Noble claims to be baffled by criticism of Maazel in his post “maazel talks, right wing mocks.” The thrust of Noble’s analysis is that the tour will promote understanding of the “culture” of North Korea and counteract the fear that hobbles the right wing, fear being what is “truly insidious and poisonous.” Maazel’s remarks, however, were perfectly lucid, if misguided, and Noble’s “excellent interpretation” only muddles the issue. Noble says:

“The critical mistake is that understanding and context do not equal condoning or endorsing. Just because I might understand why someone might undertake to do a despicable act of terror doesn’t mean that I in any way think that it is right.”

What can this possibly mean? Does Noble understand why Kim Jong-il might undertake despicable acts of terror? Is this the understanding that we should aspire to? Noble continues:

“On the other hand, if I have a better understanding of what motivated this person or persons, then I can implement policies that might prevent further such acts.”

So, if we could only understand what motivates Kim Jong-il, then we could implement policies to change the situation? Just what understanding we will gain from having the New York Philharmonic play for North Korean apparatchiks, what policies that new-found understanding might inspire, and how new policies implemented by us will prevent further terror and alleviate the deplorable conditions of North Korea — well, Noble doesn’t say.

As usual, the problem is all about us: We lack understanding; we need new policies. The North Korean populace meanwhile can continue to starve and live in a police state. Nothing will be required of Kim Jong-il.

Shunning the accommodation of dictators, Fleisher states:

“Turning a blind eye to the political undercurrents of the event dismantles the very force of art in this country that the [Kennedy Center] honors celebrate: the freedom, nay, the obligation to express oneself honestly and without fear. Ultimately, there is no greater honor than that freedom.”

That honor, that freedom, is nowhere in shorter supply than in Kim Jong-il’s Korea. We search in vain for the force of art emanating from the intellectual desert so carefully constructed and maintained by the Dear Leader.

We might have hoped that Maazel would at least profess the same kind of tepid principles as Fleisher and wear a ribbon in his lapel. But no, Maazel will not accept the dictator’s hospitality and then criticize him later from a safe distance. Maazel will accept the dictator’s hospitality and criticize only the U.S.

And therein lies the secret to reconciling Fleisher’s sense of moral taint from visiting the White House with Maazel’s enlightened superiority in going to North Korea. Both present an opportunity to criticize Bush and U.S. policy.

Fleisher expressed the hope that his small gesture of wearing a lapel pin and publishing an op-ed in one of the nation’s premier newspapers would somehow “neutralize the sense of regret that came with having agreed to follow protocol.” He hopes it will “loosen the ties that bind future honorees . . . from the code of silence that has pervaded this pinnacle of artistic recognition.”

Who will publish an op-ed in the North Korean newspaper, or indeed even wear a lapel pin, protesting the code of silence that truly pervades North Korea, or the smug, easy pretension of moral superiority that pervades the artistic community here?

February 14th, 2008 Posted by Fitzroy | Music, Politics | one comment

A Propaganda Coup

When the New York Philharmonic announced its intention to perform in North Korea, some worried that the event would result in a propaganda coup for Kim Jong-il. And Terry Teachout concluded that the event “will be doing little more than participating in a puppet show whose purpose is to lend legitimacy to a despicable regime.”

Those fears were realized well in advance of the concert. The Washington Times on February 7, 2008, reported conductor Lorin Maazel’s remarks:

“People who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw bricks, should they?” Mr. Maazel demanded. “Is our standing as a country — the United States — is our reputation all that clean when it comes to prisoners and the way they are treated? Have we set an example that should be emulated all over the world? If we can answer that question honestly, I think we can then stop being judgmental about the errors made by others.”

An appropriate, though understated, response came from John Mahlmann of The National Association for Music Education: “It’s regrettable that all that emanates from Mr. Maazel’s podium is not as credible as the music.”

More to the point: “Lorin Maazel’s comparison of America’s lawful treatment of its prisoners to North Korea’s unlawful mistreatment of theirs bespeaks a mind so befuddled and corrupted by the poison of multiculturalism that it should dishearten us all,” says Arkansas writer Paul Lake, poetry editor of First Things.

The New York Philharmonic will perform in North Korea on February 26 and in South Korea on February 28. It’s web calendar, however, indicates that both concerts are to occur in “Korea.” Can we infer that the organization makes no distinction between North and South Korea?

The U.S. State Department’s official site on North Korea, the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea (D.P.R.K.), offers the somewhat hopeful view that “The D.P.R.K. is not known to have sponsored terrorist acts since the 1987 bombing of KAL flight 858.”

The orchestra reportedly sought, and presumably obtained, assurances that the 8 orchestra members of Korean origin would not encounter difficulties and that the orchestra would be permitted to play “The Star-Spangled Banner.” There was no mention of the need to seek any such assurances from the Republic of Korea or from any other glass-house country with a record on human rights that Maazel equates with that of North Korea.

February 11th, 2008 Posted by Fitzroy | Music, Politics | no comments

Neil Young’s Music Fails To Change the World

Neil Young is disappointed. The war in Iraq continues despite his efforts, which include writing musical masterpieces such as “Let’s Impeach the President.” Music, he concludes, has no power to change the world.

Apparently movies have no power to change the world either. Environmental policies have not been radically overhauled in response to Al Gore’s An Inconvenient Truth – yet. The climate continues to blow hot and cold. Go figure.

Talk has been judged entirely ineffective as well, at least talk radio, having failed to halt John McCain’s presidential bid.

Imagine scholars discovering the ugly fact that virtually nothing changes the world: “Evidence of discord and hunger, envy and sloth have been discovered in numerous ancient civilizations, and it’s really surprising that these things are still around, despite the Enlightenment, social progress, and our commitment to diversity,” opined an unnamed dean of sociology.

Well, modern sociologists argue that art primarily reflects society. So what could Neil Young possibly have been thinking? He was writing songs about a society that doesn’t exist yet. Clearly he got the cart before the horse.

On the other hand, raw rhetoric is proving to be a potent force in the hands of Barack Obama, who assures us that “Yes we can” change the world. Obama even writes poetry:

            Under water grottos, caverns

Filled with apes

That eat figs . . .

(and so on)

Now there’s an inspiring vision of change we can all get behind. With Obama ascendant, perhaps even Young will reconsider and launch new efforts to speak truth to power. I suggest titles such as “You Retrograde Nitwits,” and “Hey Apes, Eat This.” That oughta work.

February 8th, 2008 Posted by Fitzroy | Music, Politics | no comments

Growing Up in the Soviet Music World

Vladimir Lande conducted the Tulsa Symphony last week in a concert of Russian music.  This fifth-generation musician was educated at the Leningrad Conservatory and landed the job of oboist in the Leningrad Philharmonic at age 21.  He was interviewed by Professor Carol and gives an interesting account of playing under the legendary conductor Evgeny Mravinsky.  He emigrated to the U.S. in 1989.  His views on the music world of Soviet times and his efforts to bring Russian contemporary music to America (and American contemporary music to Russia) make a worthwhile podcast.

February 8th, 2008 Posted by Fitzroy | Music | no comments

Archbishop of what?

The Archbishop of Canterbury has had such success in reforming Christianity that he now expects the same can be done with Islam.

February 8th, 2008 Posted by Fitzroy | Religion | no comments

Why blog?

Why would I start a blog in the cacophonous world of cyberspace? I often think only a madman or egotist would spend time talking to his own computer or speak to an empty hall. And, for most of us, when we start a blog, the hall is most assuredly empty. We can only hope that a few people will stumble in and stay long enough to become engaged.

February 8th, 2008 Posted by Fitzroy | Leisure | no comments