Violence. It surrounds us. It is all over the media. It is so common in our society today that violence has become the norm rather than the exception. Perhaps one out of every ten people in the United States have experienced or witnessed a violent crime. Psychology Today states that homicide is the 5^th most common cause of death in the United States in all age brackets between 1 and 44 years. Violence to one’s self, in the form of suicide, is ranked second only to death by accidental causes. As violence is a behavior, it is common to lay the blame for violence to a psychological abnormality. Unfortunately, that is not the cut and dried case.

The potential for violence exists in all of us. It is part of our biology. Especially in males. Men are far more predisposed to violence than women, and this has been the case since the dawn of time. We were violent to hunt for food, protect ourselves and our families and to maintain order in society. As we can see, violence is still required today to do much the same thing.

Everywhere, we see the potential for violence. In how the police keep the peace, in how the military defends politics and diplomacy across the globe. In how one group seizes property, or food, or people against their will through the use of violence.

While we are predisposed to violence as a species, let us not forget that we haven’t brought ourselves to the point of extinction yet. This is because for all of our violent tendencies, society has developed a moral structure. Whether it’s because of a common belief in a spiritual concept, a religion, or just some inner moral compass, society has evolved with laws. These laws guide us through what is right and what is wrong. Such an evolution has brought some structure to societies, and has maintained some control over humanity’s violent aspects.

While yes, psychology is part of the equation of violence, there are other determining factors that make a person more predisposed to violence. For instance, it has often been discussed that environment, and external influence play a large part in violent behavior. A person who grows up in a violent environment, or around violent people may be more apt to be violent themselves. This can be seen across the United States where people grow up, and live in rough neighborhoods. Young impressionable people tend to go with the flow in order to be accepted by the elder violent natured individuals in their society. Observing aggressive behavior makes children learn new aggressive behaviors, for we tend to imitate the specific behaviors that we see, and start to believe that it is OK to do the same (Bandura 1973).

Influences in that environment could be a constant state of war such as we see in developing countries. It could be gang members who recruit younger people through coercion, or exposure to violence. It could be any number of hate groups who are able to influence people, imparting to them at a young age that one race or another is inferior, or to blame for something. In doing so, such groups are able to convince people that an ethnic group is deserving violence. So it can successfully be debated that environment, and external influence, are definitely keys to violent behavior.

There are others who argue that it is only biology that is the defining factor regarding violent behavior. In an article for Medical News Today, the author writes that the Hypothalamus, the ventrolateral part of the ventromedial hypothalamus, and the Lateral Septum areas of the brain are specifically to blame for violent behavior. Biology can be a factor to understand violent behavior in relation to build-up of electrical impulses that finally get released in a physical expression. But it surely does not help to explain exactly why these impulses get built-up.

In my opinion, I believe it is a combination of factors. I am United States Air Force veteran who has deployed to numerous locations where violence is common, and then spent time as a contractor there. From my exposure to these other cultures, I can say that I believe that environment plays a large part in violent behavior along with external influence. The more people are fed the idea that violence is acceptable, the more they are inclined to exhibit violent behavior.

It is true though that biology is really the tie that binds all of us into a predisposition for violence. Studies have shown that any person placed under enough negative mental stress will react violently to the situation they are in. In effect the Fight or Flight response is triggered. This is because regardless of environment, influence, or predisposition, we are all human and are all hardwired in the same way. Violence is a product of the Fight or Flight response. When presented with a given situation imbued with enough negative mental stress, we will either fight or run. Factors such as environment and influence will either mitigate or exacerbate our response.

To make matters worse, the ingestion of certain drugs such as amphetamines can produce states where the individual is more prone to be violent. The same can be said for alcohol, which is notorious for lowering impulse control. If the condition is chronic, then the individual will become violent over and over again. Again this is a matter of an external influence.

Now having said that, there are certain people who argue that psychology is the only defining factor. According many health professionals, mental illness is widely considered the principal cause for violent behavior.

People with psychotic tendencies who have no real sense of right or wrong are certainly more predisposed to violence. This is especially so in Paranoid Schizophrenics, where people come to believe they are being persecuted. They may then attack the person they believe is persecuting them. The same can be said of people who are sexually deviant. Often they will perform violent acts against other people to satisfy a psychological need. However, there is a standing argument that sexual deviance is a product of both environment, and the individual being a victim of sexual violence themselves. Therefore, potentially, sexual deviance is a result of environment and negative external influence.

The trend of violence in today’s society has reached epidemic proportions. In violent riots, people may act out violently because people around him or her are acting violently. It is perceived as normal to do so in such situations in which peer pressure, an external influence, lowers an individual’s self-control, thus allowing for violent behavior.

A child with a history of parental abuse kills small animals for the sheer enjoyment of doing so. The child has experienced violent behavior and is looking for an outlet to express his or her own violent tendencies. Once the child knows he or she has an outlet, they will continue to find ways to express their violent tendencies. The concern here is that as this person gets older, the need for release will need to be satisfied to a greater degree. Much in the way a drug addict needs larger and larger doses to maintain a high.

A soldier acts out violently on numerous occasions. He has a string of prior violent actions before joining the Army. Because of his violent tendencies, he is more accepted as a soldier. In such a situation, where violence is considered the norm, a person with a predisposition to violence could function for years before anyone caught on that they were actually emotionally disturbed.

A man with an automatic rifle walks in to a church and opens fire, killing dozens of people. Perhaps he has a deep seated hatred for an ethnic group. Or perhaps he has an issue with the religion being preached in the church. What is disturbing is that he has convinced himself over time that his actions are acceptable. He has decided that it is right to render violence to other people.

We see so much violence now that we have become jaded to it. Oversaturation of the topic by the media has made us numb to the violence in our society. We have in fact come to expect it. This is because the media knows that bad news sells better than good news. This is another example of external influence.

It is therefore my opinion that yes psychology does play a part. So does environment and external influence. When these three factors are combined with the fact that we are by nature, and biology violent creatures, the predisposition for violence increases exponentially. A word of caution however in stereotyping people who, based on these factors, are predisposed to violent behavior. We are all capable of violence. It merely depends on the situation we find ourselves in at a given moment in time.

References

• Bandura, A. (1973). Aggression: A social learning analysis. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall.

·       Fields. R. Douglas. 2016. “The Science of Violence,” Psychology Today.

• https://psychweb.chbs.jmu.edu/Graysojh/pdfs/Volume101-ChildrenWhoAbuseAnimals.pdf
• https://www.traversebaycac.org/2018/06/15/animal-abuse-child-abuse-link/

Respect for life is more than a religious value; it is a constituent dimension of faith found in every major religion of the world. One cannot have faith in a creator God (or an all-embracing transcendent reality) and cavalierly exclude any part of creation—the whole natural and cosmic world are worthy of respect. To affirm the inviolability of the person is to affirm the sacredness, the mystery of the cosmos. Creation is inseparable from the dignity of the cause of its being. While the story of Creation in the Hebrew Scripture has been interpreted in many Christian circles as permission for humans to exploit creation, Genesis’ first chapter express a relationship of respect and responsibility for all that God has brought about. And Muslims affirm: “Indeed, God is the cleaver of grain and date seeds. He brings the living out of the dead and brings the dead out of the living” (Qur’an 6:95).

Respect for life, especially among certain radical Christian groups, is viewed by a broader public as an almost exclusive preoccupation with abortion and medically assisted death. The Christian maxim, “love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you” (Matthew 5: 44), is often ignored by both the advocates of capital punishment in North America and the perfunctory trials and death sentences currently being meted out in Iraq. It is not difficult to understand how the obscene presence of evil in the world alienates religious people from the demands of “true goodness, true responsibility, true justice, a true sense of things—all [of which] grow from roots that go much deeper than the world of our transitory earthly schemes. This is the message that speaks to the very heart of human religiosity” (Vaclav Havel).

Human religiosity must have its concrete embodiment in the everyday lives of people. Religious truths ring hollow and defy belief, when they remain concepts outside the day to day hopes and fears, joys and anxieties of experience. The true believer is not one who assents to a series of propositions, no more than one can be labelled an infidel, because a religious teaching seems irrational. In fact, the divine—Yahweh, Allah, or the Father—is imminently beyond comprehension and the communication of the divine reality is always conditioned by the lives of those who embrace one or the other religious traditions.

The United States, Israel, Islamic nations, and lately even Russia are laying claim to their religious roots. But their vision of religion and faith seems more polytheist and politicized. They all acknowledge “one” God, yet fail to recognize that God in the putative enemies. What does a message of peace—Shalom, Islam, and the beatitudes—sound like when so much violence and disrespect for life are evident in daily confrontations? Rationalizations relying on national interest or national security appeal to general bias and reduce rich religious realities to icons of more primitive human insecurity and mistrust. The will to violence, in fact, reveals the religious bankruptcy of many of these powers.

As a practicing Christian I am conscious of the disconnect between the clarity of the Gospel teachings and the political and cultural agendas of many of my co-believers who often take their religious “truths” out of context, then use these truths as ideologies, without exploring the impact of their choices on the core message of Jesus. Often what it means to be Christian is reduced to the vehement insistence on single issues as the touchstones of orthodoxy. Abortion, the fate of the city of Jerusalem, or support for our troops (whoever we are, whatever their mission) have become in many quarters stand-alone issues, without regard for the context and consequences. Legitimate concern for the safety of their family members too often confuses faith with patriotism and blinds Christians to the destruction war brings to the lives of the “enemy” and the millions of civilians whose lives are daily being taken by death or by hopelessness.

Westerners can “reclaim” their Christian heritage and Jews demonstrate moral integrity by figuring out what Yahweh meant when he reminded them: “You shall not molest or oppress an alien, for you were once aliens yourselves in the land of Egypt” (Exodus 22:20). Muslims, Jews, and Christians can share a stronger hope for achieving peace and affirming human dignity, through reviewing their own religious commitments from the perspective of God the Creator, of Allah, the beneficent and merciful.

As a Catholic I find hope in the attitude and actions of Pope Francis. In a most public fashion the Pope has welcomed asylum seekers and reminded Europe of its obligation to receive them. He has promoted an environmental morality that ties the fate of human life and wellness with the fate of our natural environment. He continually stresses that there is no such thing as less worthy and more worthy human beings. But this willingness to hear the cry of desperation in the voices of asylum seekers and to seek social and ecological justice is not limited to religious groups—an indication of the universality of humankind that religious particularism too easily ignores.

At the same time, there are growing movements in Europe that refuse to welcome these quasi-stateless persons, who have lost their homeland. Often they express fear that the predominantly Muslim refugees threaten Europe’s Christian culture, without realizing that integral to that culture are the works of mercy, the care for the marginalized, the victims of decisions of the powerful and mighty of this world. Nations and businesses continue to disrupt the ecology. They are unable to resist the allure of the wealth, which they believe regulation will prevent them from achieving. Morality and faith are two sides of the same coin. Faith brings one into the dynamic movement of divine compassion and creativity. Morality is allowing God’s being to become compassion and creativity in our own lives. We do not hold God to a “higher standard,” as if there are situations in which humans have the right to unleash the violence and blood-shed of war, to irreparably violate the environment, or to destroy the soul of another. “Do not forget your share of the world. And do good as God has done for you. And desire not corruption in the land” (Qur’an 28:77). The Golden Rule may seem on the surface to be a formula for self-protection (if you don’t want to get hurt, avoid hurting others). Yet, in fact, it captures the interconnectivity of all creation. The gift of life underscores responsibility for life, for all life is interconnected. “…whoever saves the life of one, it shall be as if he had saved the life of all mankind” (Qur’an 5:32).

Religion in public life can, at its worst, lead to oppressive theocracy, social hypocrisy, and disregard for the dignity of persons and groups of people. It easily obscures the loving compassion of the God, whose will it claims to honor. Yet, religion—humbly lived and with a consciousness of its own failures—has a right and a duty to speak openly about the values that make human life together a pursuit of the common good, rather than the survival of the fittest. But if religion is to play a constructive role in the public sphere, it will be necessary to find areas where the adherents of different religions share common goals, values, and beliefs. Polarization within and between religions readily cedes its rightful place in the public sphere to divisive ideology and needlessly blocks working together for the common good. In fact, it becomes false religion by fostering a self-referential morality that narrows the universalism of the original creation and selectively ignore some of the most challenging, yet ennobling, teaching of the most sacred scriptures available to humankind. Religion is not about a vague “more than life,” as if life were something less than what humanity and nature really yearn for. Religion is about life itself and the duty of every believer is to protect and nurture life. That is true worship, for all life is the presence of God in our midst.

What makes this event unique compared to other attempts at bringing people together to celebrate our heritages, our cultures, and our languages? For me it is the spirit of the philosophical rationale underpinning the organizers of the event: the Horizon Educational Trust, the Gauteng Provincial Department of Arts, Culture and Recreation of South Africa, the South African-Turkish Business Association, and the Turquoise Harmony Institute. What do they share in common that helps them to run a festival of diversity?

First, the festival is deeply focused on the “the diamonds” of the show: namely, the youth, who are students from a range of Turkish schools across the globe who came to showcase their experiences of dialogue, sharing the riches of their own cultures while embracing the opportunities for self-growth, discovery, and development as they learned to speak a common language of respect and value. Yes, there were the perfunctory speeches from dignitaries and sponsors. Yes, the organizers emphasized the role of Turkey offering not just bilateral South Africa-Turkey relations, but also access into the worlds where Turkish conceptions were sowing seeds across the international community. Yes, there was a nod to providing awards to the Mandela family in recognition of his contribution to world peace. But these speeches did not dominate the program; it was clear that the unexpressed agenda of the organizers was directed not towards scoring political points or grandstanding. The event was an opportunity to learn from others through appreciating difference and viewing “others” not as potential threats, a waging of supremacist ideological battles, or the harmful promotion of political factions. We, as the audience, were spectators of a new world in gestation.

The simplicity and genuineness of the hosts came through on multiple levels, but especially in how they promoted the view that cultural dialogues are easily communicated beyond linguistic specifics. The universal languages of arts, music, and dance speak volumes. The festival program directors marked each individual presentation with an evocative introduction translating the songs they rendered and offering connection with the message of the colors of a rainbow world, enriched by our diversity. Whist they hinted at the countries of origin of the performers, they were careful not to set any one up as “exotic others” against some normative hegemony, or in a competitive ascendancy. Each performance was afforded a dignity in its own right and the young stars rose spectacularly to the occasion with confidence and committed expertise. They exuded that this was a festival, not a competition; a celebration of dialogue of selves, not egoistic performances.

Notably, the program was also consciously planned to bring different performers onto the same stage in simultaneous coupled or multiple-group renditions, showing that it is not uniqueness alone that is to be valued, but one’s ability to stand alongside, and in concert with, other perspectives and points of view. We saw Romanian and Georgian songstresses hold back-to-back performances with South African backing vocals. We were mesmerized by a heartfelt Whitney Houston song, “I Am Nothing Without You” performed by an Australian teenager wearing traditional Islamic dress. We witnessed the choral singing of Turkish and South African songs by enthusiastic students on a full stage. A duo of a lanky African American and a suave South African Durbanite executed a spirited “Stand By Me” performance. An elegant impersonation of Adele’s “Someone Like You” by a Catholic girl from the Philippines sent shivers down one spine and brought tears to most eyes:

I wish nothing but the best for you…

The penetrating, almost operative gusto of “Je t’aime” by a pint-sized French lass celebrated the wonderful potential young people possess. Mozambican sisters, and Netherlander siblings, and Madagascar soloist performers continued to show the spirit of the festival by singing in Portuguese, Dutch, and Turkish. Audience members fervently waved randomly distributed miniature flags from all participating countries. Each member of the audience was randomly assigned arbitrary custodianship of these nationalistic symbols. The “We are the World” popular mantra brought all solo performers alongside the whole starry cast in a memorable display of togetherness. A South African dance group exhibited their pot pourri of traditional Turkish folkdances. Local variations of kwaito music and gumboot dancers culminated in a costumed celebration of all performers: North, South, East, and West in a rousing reinterpretation of the Southern anthem, Shoholoza. A tribute from the whole student group to both Mahatma Gandhi (in Gurathi) and Nelson Mandela (in isiXhosa) demonstrated the lessons of these international icons of harmony and commitment to social justice, through quiet, yet powerful engagement and dialogue. The celebratory pictures of their historical lives, presented in a back-to-back sequence, were a tribute by themselves. What a collage of possibilities peppered with the spice of smiles!

The music genres spanned both traditional and modern forms. It was quite evident that the star performers (ranging in age from early to late teens) were selected as exemplars of exceptional artistry. Each performance was reinforced by graphic slides depicting scenes from the performers’ home countries. Natural fauna and flora, cultural and architectural monuments, and significant people or groups formed the worldwide educational tour via the panoramic backdrop visuals. Some graphics told visual stories of evolving forms and features of the worldwide community. The program saw the presentation of singers performing their own and other cultural languages. They adapted costume styles from different settings outside their home countries. The kaleidoscope that emerged was a festival of variety: where people of different groups exchanged dress styles, languages, and dance choreographs to communicate the possibility for the dialogical space that a new cultural movement can embrace.

South Africans are perhaps skeptical of this kind of multicultural celebration due to apartheid. In such a form of cultural celebration, different cultures are placed alongside each other as enclaved entities, highlighting the “boundaries” of one’s beliefs, a celebration of otherness. Such divergence produced a “multi-cultural” endeavor that promoted a political hierarchy of perspectives which took on racialized proportions with disastrous effects.

In present times however, many proponents of the “new era” of cultural affirmation in post-apartheid South Africa see cultural celebration as an attempt to assert a new regime of hierarchies with one cultural form replacing the previously powerful forms. This is also more often associated with the representations of political power which silence those who differ from the majority perspective, the new master narrative, or dominant worldview. How different is this from multi-cultural apartheid?

By contrast, the Turkish school movement inspired by the international Hizmet philosophy of “service to humanity” is characterized by a worldview that celebrates the interdependent common ground across all cultural expressions. Their outward manifestations may differ, but cultural representations highlight the similitude of our humanity, and our quest for dialogue, love, and tolerance. This is embodied by the writings and teachings of a key founder of the Hizmet Movement: Fethullah Gülen. In this version of “inter-culturalism,” the attempt is to develop individuals who are conscious of their own self and their heritage, but not in service of a protectionist or preservationist agenda. From this firm position of self-strength, one is able to reach out to the world of others. We see in others, too, our agenda for our common quests. Our reaching out is a service to realizing peace and harmony – which is a goal sorely needed in a war-torn, politicized and ideologized world, which often uses religious beliefs as rallying points for promoting hostility, supremacy, and divergence. Sometimes these separatist agendas are disguised econometric plots, too! Cultural affirmation is not a hearkening to a fossilized past, but a recognition that our habits and routines can mutate and extend through dialogue and exchange; our borders can be more inviting and more welcoming.

A third kind of cultural engagement is “juxta-culturalism” which merely tolerates different groups walking alongside each other, never interconnecting. This is sadly the lived experiences of many who pursue only a narcissist nationalistic myopic agenda, seeing only the boundaries of geography and politics as the border of their selfhood. This produces expressions of xenophobia which does not recognize the inherent commonality of all human beings. We are all created equal in the eyes of God. Our nationalist identity is only a man-made demarcation, dividing one set of people from another. It is more commonplace that many individuals in our modern global society, live outside the borders within which their forefathers were born. We may draw our cultural roots from one geographic space, but live in another context altogether.

Human history has been replete with stories of crossing borders, migrations due to the ravages of political, economic, or natural disasters. Not all of these journeys are tales of joy. More likely, the fragile settled communities interpret the visiting migrant culture as undercutting the nationalistic goals of their society. Open hostility is unfortunately sanctioned as the appropriate response to keep the outsiders from penetrating our “safe world.” So, which version of cultural affirmation did the festival of language and culture promote?

I think that a version of “trans-disciplinary culturalism” emerged as the young stars of the show interacted to generate a positive energy of harmony by crossing over to the other side. Their own past matters; they remained rooted on their own river banks. But they were confident enough to swim across to the other side. The young performers were firmly grounded in the here and now of the present 21^st century, with all its influences: technology, media, and new musical and art forms, which they transported across the global village. And they dared us to dream of the possibility of building a new, shared cultural world. Their message was simple: we are simultaneously of the past, in the present, and eager to create the future. This movement across time and space, culture and geography, history and identity, are not threatening but enriching.

One of my lasting impressions was the emotional image of students embracing each other at the end of the show: this was the world in dialogue with each other. They had made a connection with those around them that would live on in their lives for many years. They will become the ambassadors of the new world order. The official festival song reverberates:

I saw a luminous future in my dream one night.
Lights were silent pouring down everywhere.
It was like a harmoniously working clock.
Dark nights had gone away.
A new world!
A new world!
They were building a new world.
Everywhere sparkled like the skies.
They were building a new world.

After the ceremony, I chatted with a young 12 year-old Albanian youth to congratulate him on his commanding and welcoming stage performance. He simply smiled broadly.

“No English. Me speak no English.” He smiled and held my hand, clutching his Albanian costume in one hand, his proud flag in another, and his infectious energy pouring out. Despite his lack of English skills, he was able to communicate via his open-hearted spirit.

What a festival of cultures and languages! Not essentialized, but harmonized. It was an expression of joyous humanity.

And there we found our God.

But now I think: was he from Albania or Afghanistan? Why do I not know these countries and their foreign flags? But does it matter?

His heart sparkled.

Reflections on the “13^th International Festival of Languages and Culture”
www.iflc.co.za
“Colours of the world”
18 March 2015
Nelson Mandela Theatre, Braaamfontein, Johannesburg

Michael Anthony Samuel is a professor of education at the University of KwaZulu-Natal, School of Education, Durban, South Africa.

Coming to the Canadian experience, which has no doubt been hovering in the backs of our minds, with a nation requiring so much intellectual mediation, we may well worry that as the memory of the parties who fought on the Plains of Abraham fades into the background of the national consciousness, only homo economicus may survive, who looks to the nation only to optimize consumerism in the quest for status, rationalized as the summa of self actualization.

And we may justifiably worry that the universals of human nature which have obstructed utopian visions will continue to haunt the national dream, among them nepotism, inequality of intellectual and social potential, and the quest for dominance through violence, which is also embedded in our genes. And by the way, on the score of economic man, you’ll be amused to know that the most sophisticated instrument for the study of national identity, called the National Identity Scale, is not the work of academics or Statistics Canada, but of marketing agents. You can google it. Their goal is to profile all of our nationalist sentiments, loyalties, and proclivities in order to target our purchasing inclinations. How ironic is it that interested parties are seeking to brand us as consumers by profiling our diversities of national feeling?

There are other obstacles to national experience and identity worthy of mention. The word itself is derived from “natio” which essentially means birthplace, taken from “nasci,” to be born. We may well wonder whether our place of birth is our life’s destiny. He or she who swears an oath to the Queen in a citizenship court is making a vow that is tantamount to a religious conversion. Yet where people are born remains a huge part of their identity. A group of Canadian nationalist academics back in the 1970s, in a narrow spirit of mind, confirmed that very belief by stating that anyone not born in Canada lacked a true national experience and should therefore be barred from all positions of influence within our university systems. What a doctrine to impose upon an essentially immigrant nation, eager to recruit talent from abroad to maintain its national dream!

Yet that issue will never ultimately die, because we will never ultimately agree about how we construct identity and fashion allegiances, who is really in and who is not. How malleable are we, and how much baggage from our pasts is too much when it comes to forming a new national community? And how much superiority can the native born claim for themselves?

Something once said by George Bernard Shaw cuts both ways: “There is nothing that can be changed more completely than human nature when the job is taken in hand early enough.” The gist of it is that we are indeed malleable, but only when we are young. Each of us here is as apt to speak Japanese as any child born in Japan, had we been born there. Yet nothing makes learning Japanese more difficult than first speaking English, because we were born here. So is birth tantamount to the only nation we can experience? How much plasticity do we have? Can a second language ever equal a first? That debate is likewise yours to discover.

The topic of memory in this context is also significant. It is not possible to dwell on all its complexities here, for memory is both key to the construction of t he self and key to those common experiences that define national identity. But self and nation entail different kinds of memory. A self is a point of view concerning its own lived history. National memories are preserved through books, paintings and pictures, letters, and journals housed in national archives and libraries. A nation emerges only when historical memory becomes personal memory, when the story of a people is internalized, inviting us to feel for and with those who created our national past.

Can a nation shed this component and still be a nation? I ask in innocence. Perhaps we can thrive together on current events. But if we require a deeper historical memory, how is it to be framed and disseminated? It is a real challenge for educators, who must referee among the embarrassing facts, the touchy opinions, and political correctness. Can we even afford an embattled Canadian history? Or do we beat our breasts and construct it as one long trail of colonializing abuse and ethnic misunderstanding? After all, two of our three founding peoples are conquered nations, and much of the history of Canada has been devoted to assuaging the loss of those former identities.

The Quebecois have a dearly-held sense of themselves as a first experience quality of nation centered on birth, language, a common history and culture, and at one time a common religion, yet they too must seek to embrace the contractual, legal, and secular components of a modern pluralistic society. The most intense intellectual debates within Quebec today are concerned with this very question. There is a lot of nostalgia in la belle province, and who can blame them? At some level, we all crave the kind of oneness they hope to find in a society still tenuously held together by a common language and traditions, made urgent by a history of perceived subjugation and collective hope.

Meanwhile, it is easy to imagine how irrelevant those confrontations must seem to newer Canadians who have no stakes in that conversation and can only hope for a second order gesellschaft nation or retreat into former national feelings; our historical solitudes go in many directions. Yet this part of our national experience cannot and should not be pretended away. And thus, how do we shape the collective memory of Canada? An attempt will be made in the transformation of our National Museum of Civilization into a Museum of National History, which I think we all recognize as an effort in nation building, in selectively representing the Canadian past in ways which will instill national pride in all its citizens. But whether this new institution will represent a faithful and comprehensive history or a cheerleading version of it remains to be seen. Behind it all is an admirable goal, to give our national memory a monument or shrine to make visible who we are, and to make it accessible to all the people.

I have thrown up a lot of obstacles to the realization of national identity in modern diversified societies. Unfortunately, I cannot resolve all the stressors and dilemmas which I have raised. I would be bigger than God if I had a band-aid for all our national divisions, and I would be a menacing tyrant if I had the power to imprint nationalist universals by fiat in the mind of every citizen.

What I would venture is that we all desire to be members of a national community—to participate personally in that cluster of ideas which not only holds us together but distinguishes us from all other nations, and to experience it as part of our extended personal identity. It is a level of the self that is big, but not too big, and still within imagining. National sentiments are strong when Canada does well in international ratings concerning our financial fundamentals. We are justifiably proud of our social welfare net, our peacekeeping objectives, or when planes fly overhead in formation, or when we take Olympic medals or win the World Series.

But we sense there is even more pro patria to be felt through education, historical consciousness, generous feelings toward our fellow citizens, and openness to dialogue and exchange. Emotions cannot be coerced, but when we feel them, they can help form the bonds that hold us together. In Canada, a dialogue among cultures has replaced the monolithic orientations of older and more traditional societies, which is now as it must be, but it is an ongoing experiment all the same, with an uncertain outcome. That brings us back to the intercultural and interfaith dialogues sponsored by such organizations as the IDI (Intercultural Dialogue Institute), which are vital to the shaping of our national ethos; we become one in sharing our differences and in understanding just how those differences still pertain both to our common humanity and to our national aspirations. In that regard, we can champion Fethullah Gulen’s great commission when he urges that “Each person who loves his or her country has to be a proper representative of that nation. Every member should invest in its values and put energy and aid into its development, and follow this pathway throughout life.” It is a great reciprocity conducted by granting identity to others and assuming an informed identity for ourselves.

A nation is dialogic. It is made by thinking it together. My purpose has been to think about the self and its experience in the context of nation, and how buying in cognitively adds to our experiencing of the self as a thinking participant. I can’t imagine a working nation without conditions like respect for law and the rights of others, respect for democratic institutions, and fiscal integrity. And here we get into the hard points for discussion. We need working languages to avoid our own Tower of Babel; thus it seems reasonable that we foster the two official languages of Canada as efficient vehicles of communication. We need citizens with religious sensibilities, even if they are confirmed atheists, but we must be wary of guiding ourselves in matters of the collective secular nation by religious principles more specific than generic ethics and civic morality; the French Revolution got that right. We need residents who imagine the common good and respect the dignity of life by instinct. And I would add my support for extending the historical consciousness of the nation, because Canada has had a rich history in its scant 400 hundred years of urban settlement. Canada has been pluralistic from its inception, yet we have forged a sense of a single dominion historically grounded and tied to a precious social and political formula based on reason and the spirit of order and cooperation. Yet I think we can remain true to our inspiring cultural diversity through discussion and sharing. Upon such a heritage, minds can build a nation.

I seem to recall that it was a beer company that branded us with a bit of national self-affirmation through its “I am Canadian” campaign. It was a “good feeling” ad. But Gulen said it more eloquently: “It is vital for citizens of a nation to say, ‘this is my country.’ The altruism of today will lead to the happiness of tomorrow’s generations.” And all this we do with our brains and minds in the most remarkable and mysterious of ways are, as a cognitive philosopher, are matters of eternal fascination to me. Nation-building we accomplish only by synchronizing our minds. We build an invisible yet compellingly real national community just by thinking in a collective way. Nation, in that sense, is a cognitive and emotional opportunity for the construction of the self, and clearly as a collective idea, nation has its adaptive value as a point of view from which we exercise our interests in the world. That alone gives grounds for the instauration of national bonds.

Donald A. Beecher is Chancellor’s Professor at Carleton University, Ottawa, Canada.
Editor’s note: The first part was published in the previous issue #99.

So when it comes to self identity, in what kinds of groups are we most likely to flourish? And if the sociological truism holds that we bond first with those who confirm our identities by being most like us, how large is that group likely to be?

Steven Pinker, in The Blank Slate, states that “The universality of ethnocentrism and other forms of group-against-group hostility across societies, and the ease with which such hostility can be aroused in people within our own society” is one of the greatest obstacles to the extension of identity communities.

Still, for an opener, you can see self and group formation at work in high school cafeterias as clusters of the like-minded create an identity by excluding outsiders, largely through gossip, sometimes around matters as trivial as a dress code, or who owns the latest electronic gadgetry. In effect, they are behaving like little tribes or nations. The fascinating part is the emotional drive to belong, and the fear of exclusion, even from groups arbitrarily defined and ephemeral, including those created in cyber space. These same principles pertain to the 700 gangs which form the social fabric of south-central Los Angeles. Yet, arguably, this same group-making process, through intellectual imagination, might be extended all the way up to the world nation or global community, with each echelon defined by shared interests, activities, values, and memories. A nation, among them, is a mutuality of thinking among persons sharing common purposes. Yet as a principle of social cohesion, it is also emotional, allegiance-oriented, exclusionary, and collectively administered. There is no nation without those who are not members. Nations may also entail chauvinism, loyalty tests in time of threat, and hostility toward non-members. Karl Deutsch famously defined a nation as “a group of people united by a mistaken view about the past and a hatred of their neighbors.” In his view, national groups lie to themselves about who they are as warriors or victims in order to justify their aggression. They can act as gangs. That is an unnecessarily dark view of the national experience, but it gets much brighter as we go along.

According to the traditional dictionary definition, a national bond arises, not only because people share a common geographical territory, but because they practice the same mores, speak the same language, worship the same gods, fight common enemies, participate in the same identifying rituals and traditions, share a common stock of stories and a common history, and are often related to each other through blood ties. Cohesion around sporting events and beer preferences is merely a parody of bedrock national identity, although in a self-effacing manner, Canadians like to start there. But it is inversely conceivable that diverse peoples with diverse allegiances may somehow share a common territory without a sense of national identity, because most of those listed characteristics typically defining a nation are simply not shared by the members of pluralistic societies. So if such populations are to find an identity center for themselves in a nation, they really have only three options.

One is to redefine themselves around more vague, generic and inclusive categories of nationhood. Another is to impose uniformity through the melting pot, the Lord Durham solution, through enforced and universal education, imposed official languages, an official history, and official social rituals in the search for a common brand of allegiance. A third is to choose a new concept under which they can unite themselves as a secular community and forget about being a nation altogether. In my view of Canadian practice, we are currently pursuing all three solutions at once. The third option entails falling back upon the universals of our humanity. We might simply acknowledge the common desires and instincts of all humankind as members of the global village, and we might view Canada as a piece of this village in which we listen to each other’s first national stories in a spirit of good will. Is that not the mandate of the Canadian ministry of multiculturalism? To be sure, it would seem only right that we remain free to express the national imperatives of our birthplaces, our mother tongues, our religions, and our respective ethnicities, yet such practices appear to obstruct the formation of a specifically Canadian national identity-or maybe not? The point is very much up for discussion.

Let’s return for a moment to the second option, the nationalist teach-in for all citizens. While recognizing diversity, national governments may also recognize the value in proactively promoting a national brand, but it is a challenging enterprise, because a meaningful nationalism cannot be bought with jingoism, cheerleading, and trinkets, or bread, circuses, and revisionist history. Identity as a mind-state entails a combination of pride and duty that is somehow earned and experienced, who knows exactly how? It is something we instinctively desire, yet identity arises only when we feel emotionally drawn to the collectivity of minds, values, and practices that constitute a nation-the argument becomes circular. We may well wonder how such emotional allegiances may best be fostered. It is a point to which I will return. But it must also be lamented that nations may also include stories of failure; in fact, our literature is full to overflowing with them, and they are studied in our university classrooms with empathetic attention. From that perspective, a lament for our national failure to create a national home for new Canadians may be our most common and unifying characteristic; it is an obsession among our literary critics.

There are many stories to choose from, but I am most immediately reminded of a touching personal narrative written by Elena Maccaferri and translated by her sister as A Bench on Which to Rest. Maccaferri came to Canada from a small village above Bologna, lured to a better life by an Italo-Canadian who promised marriage, but failed to meet her at the dock upon her arrival. A hard and lonely life followed, until she was at last found by a man who had also come from her village. She went on to raise children here, who grew up Canadian in soul and spirit, but Elena could never find a true home away from her native mountains, and was overwhelmed by nostalgia. At last, when her children were grown, she returned to Italy, only to discover that all she once knew had vanished. Canada had found no place in her emotions, but had succeeded only in alienating her even from her own children.

Thomas Henricks stated that “for the most part, people experience personhood in the terms that their host societies offer them.” But that does not always happen, and when that host society somehow fails to offer acceptable terms around which personal values can flourish, the story becomes tragic, as it was for Maccaferri. It was a crisis in personal identity in relation to a nation. And while I’m telling stories about the inability of a host nation to inspire allegiance, I’ll mention another, which goes back to my bachelor days as a young Carleton professor. I had just exhausted my resources on a six-bedroom fixer-upper in Ottawa south with rooms left over to rent out to students. In that little community we had a mysterious roomer who never joined in our collective kitchen exploits and conversations. That was not a problem in itself, but his place in the household came to a strange crisis, nevertheless, when one afternoon a couple of the other students found him in the kitchen counting out huge piles of change. He explained simply that if the laundromat owners were so stupid in their choice of coin boxes, they deserved to be robbed. In no time I had a report upstairs, and went down for an account of my own. It was a sad litany: that his father had come to Canada with promises and expectations, and that to his mind this country had ruined him, giving him only custodial work to do. In his disappointment, he had trained his children to blame the entire country, giving them carte blanche to recover his losses any way they could. The laundromat theft had been conducted as a grievance against the nation. Any Canadian was thus a fair target, and revenge could be taken indiscriminately. What bizarre turns the idea of nation can take; it is a reminder that dialogue can help.

When social groups are organized around adhesion to extended clans or tribes, as they were among the First Nations of the New World, we have an early example of the tribal-nation as a tight working survival community sharing a single culture, and calling for unflinching loyalty. But it was only after the long hiatus of the Dark Ages, and a pre-Renaissance period characterized by city states and assorted feudal principalities that the modern nation emerged in conjunction with the political institutions that framed the autonomous state.

The sixteenth century was the first great age of nation building, with England leading the way under the Tudors. And what an experiment it was. A poem I teach nearly every year is entitled The Faerie Queene, written by Edmund Spenser. It was, unabashedly, a national epic which, by chivalric and allegorical example, set out to teach its readers the great civic virtues upon which the new nation could build, including loyalty to the queen and a sense of duty in the cause of right and justice.

Of course, there is nothing like war and the threat of invasion to quicken a sense of common cause and rouse a sense of national fervor. This is simply a by-product of the craving for self- protection which can only be realized where there is a feeling of all-for-one and one-for-all. Canadians still construct some of their strongest moments of national identity through recollections arising from the First and Second World wars. They are noble stories in which we all can share, dealing with a nation coming of age through the baptism of sacrifice. And we have been reminded at times that the nation expects such matters to be treated with ultimate respect and honor. On these occasions the self is lost for a moment in the experience of the nation, and in that regard it is an experience of extended identity, a national ritual that contains the self within the group. The spiritual philosopher, Fethullah Gulen, extends that loss of self in a nation into a hope for a collective future: “Any nation that liberates itself from the deadly web of selfishness and egoism, stereotyping, excessive entitlements, fear of the future, long-lasting hatred and hostility, and at the same time respects the freedom of ideas and beliefs, while turning away from oppressors, as well as giving rights to the innocent, will surely experience long life.” That requires not only self-investment, but collective monitoring and the mastery of the dialogic self in each member. Such a nation must seek to amplify the positive qualities of experiential identity at the national level. But how to extend that experience to the optimum level of respectful allegiance is a challenging formula to meet.

We are, in fact, discussing a rather elusive state of mind. What is it like to experience an ideal national allegiance? How will it feel to be a participating member? One part of our nature seeks a spontaneous glow of unconditional brotherhood in a community of homogenous values. Another part realizes, intellectually, that we have a mutually beneficial contractual arrangement with fellow citizens only at a legal and organizational level. The German terms for these, often employed by scholars, are gemeinschaft for the former, and gesellschaft for the latter. The contrast can be understood historically. In the Middle Ages, rural populations spent their entire lives within view of their parish church steeples; their thought preoccupations were concerned with fixed or received views invested in work, rituals, and customs which remained unchanged throughout generations. Such communities had little need for debate or discussion, because everyone knew what the others were thinking. These were societies entirely integrated through common religious festivals, language, history, and traditions. These were experiential quality nations generating a sense of gemeinschaft.

Renaissance societies worked outwards from this communal base toward new identities based on restraint in a secular, legislated, legal, and impersonal society. This new order we might call a second experiential quality of nation, conceived as a partnership or a social contract to promote political and economic order. Both the communal nation and the legal nation are principles of group organization and experience, but they do not share a common ethos. For better or for worse, the modern plural nation has been compelled to redefine itself as a society regulated by law, charters, and citizenship-a gesellschaft. My point is that as societies foster libertarian individualism, much of that intuitive and communal sense of the first experiential quality of nation disappears. We have heard much, since the nineteenth century, about alienation, solipsism, existentialism, the anxieties of modernity, the breakdown of the nuclear family, rapid mobility, and transnationalism.

The longing for a tribal structure in size and cohesion prevails even in modern societies. We might try to replace that feeling at the national level through an equitably administered legal society, through education, and through health and welfare support. But that returns us to the awkward crux. Does a true sense of brotherhood and identity emerge only when there are collective bonds that include language, religion, customs, food and festivals, and life on a village scale? States may structure themselves around welfare nets, global educational systems, and the legal protection of opportunity for all, but there remains intense anxiety over the oneness of our collective national experience.

Donald A. Beecher is Chancellor’s Professor at Carleton University, Ottawa, Canada.
(Editor’s note: A follow-up of this article can be find in the 100th issue of The Fountain Magazine)

With his new book, Insights from the Risale-i Nur, Thomas Michel sets out to answer some of these questions. Michel states his goal very early in the book: as a Jesuit priest, he wants to know where, if at all, he can find “points of convergence” between Christianity and Islam within Bediüzzaman Said Nursi’s (d. 1960) seminal “Risale-i Nur.”

It turns out there aren’t just a few points, but many. And throughout Michel’s book – which is a collection of essays, speeches, and presentations the priest has delivered over the last two decades – he lays the groundwork for a healthy, constructive dialogue between not just Christians and Muslims, but peoples of all faith.

Nursi wrote the “Risale-i Nur” in the wake of two world wars. He’d watched as the secular advances of Western civilization had led to the near total destruction of Europe – not once, but twice. The collateral damage had deeply affected his home, Turkey, and its neighbors. And he endured the ill effects of Turkey’s own modernization efforts, as he was repeatedly persecuted and imprisoned for his faith.

Under such circumstances, it would have been understandable if his book had been rife with anger. Instead, as Michel astutely shows throughout his own thoughtful book, Nursi’s commentary is remarkably hopeful. He sought these “points of convergence” while also stressing what he believed as the truth of his own faith. Michel adeptly uses Nursi’s words to draw out the common ground between different faiths, and looks at how these similarities can be applied in our equally fraught contemporary age.

Both Christianity and Islam pinpoint the destruction wrought by war and poverty as having germinated not from faith, but from rampant materialism run to its natural conclusion. In a quote that Michel returns to, time and again, Nursi writes:

Europe is two. One follows the sciences which serve justice and right
And the industries beneficial for the life of society it has received from
True Christianity; this first Europe I am not addressing. I am rather
Addressing the second, corrupt Europe which, through the darkness of
The philosophy of naturalism, supposing the evils of civilization to be
Its virtues, has driven mankind to vice and misguidance.

Michel routinely connects Nursi’s, and Islam’s, distress about materialism and greed with Christianity and Judaism’s distress about the same things. The book’s second essay charts the overlaps between Nursi and Pope John Paul II in their approaches to forgiveness. Both men believed that materialism, and the selfishness it fosters, are antithetical to healthy, fulfilled communities. People of faith, no matter their belief systems, believe that a truly rich life involves more than the simple acquisition of transient materials. This common desire – for communities based on mutual love and respect instead of self-interest – is a major point of convergence. As Nursi writes, “Our enemy, that which is destroying us, is Lord Ignorance, his son [Master] Poverty Efendi, and grandson, [Mr] Enmity Bey.”

Michel shows that, although Nursi believed adamantly in the truth of his faith, he also believed that true followers of the other “revealed religions” were friends and allies of Islam. Writing after the Second World War, Nursi stated that innocents who had died “were martyrs of a sort, whatever religion they belonged to.” In the aftermath of an invasion that mostly destroyed the city of Van, Nursi “…wept without distinction for both the Christian and Muslim victims, who had been his ‘friends and acquaintances.’” In these acts of kindness, Michel finds common ground with Nursi – both of their faiths value the dignity of every human life.

In a world in which the pursuit of wealth and immediate satisfaction guides so many human interactions, this value is not always present. All too often, people from different walks of life are viewed as obstacles to a person attaining the material satisfaction they’ve come to believe is rightfully theirs.

Michel sums up this perspective succinctly in one of the most important essays in the book, “Dialogue among Believers.” He writes, “Instead of fostering fellowship and mutual aid among nations, social values are too often oriented toward providing the populace with amusements, distractions, and opportunities for instant gratification.”

Such striving for material rewards – the pursuit of which lies at the heart of capitalism, which often functions as a “secular” religion – has resulted in the debasement and poverty of a large portion of the world’s population. This dehumanization and desacralizing of human life is at the root of most religious concerns about contemporary culture. Instead of working towards a “higher good” – community, peace, or God – people are focused on self-actualization through consumption. But as Jesus says in the gospel of Matthew, chapter 4, verse 4, “Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.” The Qur’an echoes this when it says, in chapter 63, verse 9, “Let not your properties … divert you from the remembrance of God.” It’s not difficult to interpret these quotes to mean that humanity should not simply honor and respect God, but should also honor and respect God’s creations through reverence and peace. Material possessions alone cannot fill a person’s spirit; this is a belief almost all religions share.

Both Nursi and Michel feel that the absence of religion – and not the differences between faiths – has led to the wars and poverties of the last century. This is a belief that many, many people of faith share. The essays in the book continually return to these themes of common interest. By having a dialogue with Nursi’s text, and by viewing that text in its best possible context, Michel establishes a space for further dialogue between people of all faiths to occur. Both men express their adamant belief that faith – be it Christian, Jewish, Muslim, or something else – has an important, vital role to play in establishing a broad, lasting peace. Michel, like Nursi before him, remains hopeful about the future role faith will play in a more peaceful, tolerant world. This book serves as a dialogue between two religions, and it builds a foundation for future dialogues. It is a foundation built of respect, devoted faith, and a deep commitment to the dignity of every life. These are not Christian, Muslim, or Jewish values – they are universal values.

My most recent visits were to Pakistan and Finland, two countries that on the surface have very few in common, if any, in terms of continent, climate, people, culture, population, economy, politics, stability… you name it. And my conviction was once again confirmed that it is absolutely a necessity to see a country with your own eyes and get firsthand knowledge to be able to see beyond what you have through other means.

The Fountain presentation on media and values was conducted in four universities with great interest and participation. Students and faculties actively joined the discussion with invigorating questions on the universal themes and values The Fountain cherishes. Despite what the Western mind would expect of Pakistan, interestingly, the female ratio in the academia is visibly very high and their voice is no less strong than their counterparts in the West.

Finland has its own texture and character by all means. Although it was mid-April, there were still pockets of muddy snow especially in the northern-facing shades of the landscape and buildings. Hardly anyone in the streets was around, even at the airport terminal, with the exception of those enjoying the spring sun during their lunch break.

However different any given country might be from another, culture of coexistence is inevitably a common theme in both regardless of continent or culture. The Minister of Culture and Sports, Paavo Arhinmäki, who opened the conference organized by Finland Dialog Association and The Fountain in Helsinki on April 24, said “Encountering ethnic and cultural diversity is no longer the experience of just a few. It has become an everyday reality for many more people worldwide. Interactive skills and conflict resolution must become part of everyone’s civil preparedness. The desire to participate and act only becomes greater through personal involvement.”

This quote summarizes the universality of our need for greater awareness of peaceful coexistence and proves that our differences are a richness of diversity. Hence, this is one of the many reasons why The Fountain is actively engaged in different continents and societies and what we try to reflect in the contents. In the same vein, this issue covers themes that are universally relevant, like What It Means to Be Human, food safety, environment, bad memory, and senior citizens. This issue also offers thought-provoking articles on natural sciences, appreciating the compatibility of the type of food animals consume with their digestion system, the perfect physical make-up of birds, and the very interesting balance in the world that is bound with its rotation. Challenges in the gifted education are also separately discussed.

For those of you in the northern hemisphere, we wish you a good summer, and a reasonable winter for those of you in the south.

That morning, however, was unusual for one of the ants, Sayhon. He was intrigued by the noises coming from all directions. He had recorded and investigated the noise generated by bugs when carrying chips of wood, the sound a fly makes when landing on a dry leaf, the clamor of the creeks as they hit the rocks, and so on. But regardless of the cacophony of the sounds, Sayhon was always able to filter out a background noise that showed up consistently. It was as if something or someone was omnipresent in every occurrence, making itself heard. After realizing this, the poor ant found himself in seclusion to concentrate on this subtle message. After a while, not able to figure out the source of this constant noise, nor able to come up with an explanation about its meaning, Sayhon spiraled down into an endless depression. In hard times like these, he always took refuge in the warm friendship of Nurson.

Nurson also conducted his own research, modeling the dynamic geometry of the forest. By formulating the variations in the locations of the fruits on the ground or those on the branch, he benefited the worker ants in establishing the optimum routes for collection. Even more challenging was Nurson’s interest in predicting the time and place of the birth of a new fruit. It was so demanding, this prediction effort, that it shook his antennas wildly. During his research, Nurson had come to the conclusion that, existing or newborn, all the fruits were moving apart from each other. This effect was more evident in the observation of a fruit at large distances.

One day when it was raining, Sayhon was observing how the raindrops splashed on the water, how they created a blasting sound. At the same spot Nurson was studying the expansion of the waves in the puddles made by raindrops. After some gloomy moments, Sayhon wanted to open a conversation.

“Hey dude! Do you hear any noise generated by those waves?”

“YES!” replied Nurson hysterically.

Sayhon was not expecting this kind of a “YES” to his question. Rather, it sounded like an answer to something else. This, in fact, was the case, because Nurson had had an epiphany with Sayhon’s question: “The noise you are detecting everywhere is due to the expansion of the forest.”

Sayhon was startled by the answer he had received for his teasing. Nevertheless, he was eager to continue this conversation: “Hey! Easy now, easy.”

“Look! The noise you are detecting everywhere points to an entity or occurrence that is omnipresent. To date, we don’t know an entity everywhere, but we do know an occurrence that is everywhere: the moving apart phenomenon. So, the only thing that can create this noise you are so curious about is the expansion of the forest. Every fruit, every branch-tip in this forest is moving apart from each other, while leaving behind a signature in the form of sound. Now everything makes sense.”

Enlightenment suddenly seized them both with a shiver throughout their bodies. When they came back to their senses, they couldn’t help but smile; it didn’t take long before Sayhon and Nurson started squealing in joy.

Soon, the entire ant colony was in a tumult about the discovery of the expansion of the forest, but with some subsequent thoughts. For example, an ant suggested that the omnipresent noise must be propagating through some unseen but all-pervading substance; but the experiments to verify this suggestion failed. Another thought was about the size of the forest. Some claimed that it was not possible to know the size of the forest, while others said it was finite, since otherwise it would result in an infinitely intertwined forest. A third item in this list of hot discussions was the age of the forest. According to the expansion theory, if the forest is expanding now, and if you rewind this process long enough, you end up with a single tree, and eventually a single seed, out of which this endless forest has formed. They called this unimaginable start the “big germination.” Based on the big germination theory, some ants suggested billions of years of age for the forest; but some others claimed an age on the order of thousands based on interpretation of their ancient texts.

In the fresh vibrations of these findings, the discussions of the ants about the start of the forest eventually became a discussion of their own existence. What was the origin of life in the forest? How had the living beings come to their current states, each with an optimum design for the survival of their own species and for the well-being of the entire habitat? Were they merely fallen off a tree as a result of a coincidence?

As the founders of the big germination theory, Sayhon and Nurson were invited to speak in huge assemblies where thousands of curious ants were gathered. They had given several interviews, and participated in many events on the subject of the origin of life. The two friends had differing points of views on this matter, but their discussion was as respectful as it was rational.

Sayhon held the view that the living beings had come to existence through a chain of events that are not yet readily known to the ants, but can be discovered with advancements in science. As his initial hypothesis, he proposed a common ancestor to all kinds of animals in the forest, like the start of the forest from a single seed. He supported his theory of a common ancestor with the observations of common traits among different organisms. But eventually, he admitted that his hypothesis is only tentative, and needed further scrutiny. He was open to change his views with new findings and observations, and never suggested that his hypothesis be used as the criterion to judge the veracity of new perspectives.

Nurson, on the other side, claimed that the origin of life in the forest was by the hand of the Creator, just like He was the one who had created the forest in the scenario of the big germination. In the same context, he thought that the scientific studies must be aimed at learning how the Creator was making different kinds of animals in the forest. Nurson said that his view did not essentially differ from Sayhon’s views in terms of scientific foundations or implications, but he positioned himself against unscientific interpretations of scientific findings. For example, he requested that, as he admitted his belief in the Creator is an unscientific presumption, Sayhon must admit his claims about a common ancestor is unscientific, since there was no absolute proof to it. Nurson also expressed his resentment about the ants who inferred the absence of the Creator in the scientific texts as a rejection of Him, since such inference was clearly irrational as well. Overall, Nurson neither tried to alienate Sayhon nor curse his views, he merely requested that both parties characterize their views properly, which was wholeheartedly approved by Sayhon.

In return to the request of Nurson, Sayhon invited him to admit that they don’t have a complete understanding of how creation occurs, and that interpretation of implicit information in the ancient texts cannot be binding. Nurson humbly agreed.

Despite the friendly opposition between Sayhon and Nurson, the ant colony was severely divided into two groups: some siding with Sayhon and others agreeing with Nurson. Each group projected their own view as the ultimate truth, unlike the two friends’ admittance of the unscientific parts in their views. Although Sayhon and Nurson both admitted the tentative and immature level of science in the matter, the public preferred to embrace them as complete and unchangeable. Thus, these two groups socially expelled each other, and showed intellectual hostility. Rejecting the other’s views in their entirety, they mutually evolved into antagonists.

Strange enough, as the tension between these groups increased, the climate in the forest started to change dramatically. Rain became more abundant, yet the weather also warmed up incredibly. They had yet to discover the significance of these drastic changes, but this threat to the entire colony acted as a uniting agent among the ants, and mitigated the divisions on the origin of life.

In one of those hot days, the ants noticed large cracks forming in their nests, which eventually evolved into large channels, through which a violent stream came and flooded the forest. Many of the ants were saved by embarking on the leaves. Now everything was underwater, and would be until it soaked completely into the soil, which was unlikely to occur in their lifetimes. Facing extinction, the big germination and the subsequent expansion of the forest felt like meaningless topics in their hopeless state. Yet, the origin of life was of the highest attention. Even the most bigoted ants who denied the Creator wanted to believe in a higher Hand that could penetrate the doom they were facing and deliver them to salvation.

The flood did not return the ants back home but carried them to another one. By the time they arrived at this new forest, the flood had faded to a nice stream, and the ants could safely disembark from their leaves. But with nothing in their possession, everything had to be reconstructed: a home, a safe environment, and most importantly, the hope for restoration.

Sayhon and Nurson were among these survivors. Seeing that their home forest actually had an end had shocked them. In light of this fact, they had to reconsider all their thoughts from scratch. This was not to be done publicly, because the colony was struggling for survival. Amidst this new land of uncertainties, everyone was in need of a certainty to cling to, and the suppositions of Sayhon and Nurson were the last thing they looked for.

As the colony’s efforts for reconstruction and the internal quests of these two ants continued, they came across the most unexpected thing: another ant colony just like them. It was as shocking to the native ants as it was to themselves. And as their relationship deepened, it was a subtle, mind-altering experience for all of them to see that they both had religious texts telling the same brief story about the origin of life.

Over the millennia, Noah’s Ark and the Great Flood has been documented in several revelations and scriptures and related across a myriad of cultures and civilizations more or less in the same form. Every major creed, every race or civilization will have something to say about “The Great Flood.” The re-iteration of such an overwhelming event over thousands of years of history seems to convey a timeless message, as well as certain codes of universal moral conduct.

Many aspects from the world of matter are reflected as sublime meanings in the spiritual or metaphysical realm. If the Ark is likened to a spiritual and social sanctuary, then the great flood symbolizes not only a physical destruction of Earth but also a destruction of the spiritual and moral aspects of humanity. The surging of flood waters and the sinking feeling are analogous to the spiritual drowning of a lost individual in the ocean of life. Overwhelmed and burdened by a heavy weight on their shoulders, they are unable to carry on their journey in safety. Although the soul constantly seeks and yearns for continuous safety and security where it can let go of the heavy burdens of daily life and take a deep breath, it usually turns towards many false sanctuaries or havens. Not having adequate protection, the great floods of spiritual turmoil eventually drown and suffocate it.

The Ark as a representation of faith

Just like the physical need for air, water and food, the human soul similarly needs its own nourishment to survive. Without this food, it gradually decays and dies, wherein the heart becomes hardened, and a loss of sensitivity towards its environment begins. This apathy is the slow death of the human soul. In this context, the great miracle of Noah’s Ark, a significant event in the common history of humankind, represents the true spiritual sanctuary of faith that can guard humanity from drowning in the tumultuous ocean of life.

In fact, true concern for and connection with others can only be found in faith. One can even say that the greatest spiritual sanctuary and satisfaction for the human soul is faith. It enables the human soul to “let go” of those burdens that pull it down and drown it in materialism. It illuminates the heart and mind to truly feel and see beyond the prism of material life. The false perception that this fleeting world is the only goal of our life will not and cannot satisfy the innate need of the human soul for permanence and perfection. Neither comfort, wealth, nor a high social status (including other attractive but destructive desires like the love of fame) will satisfy these needs, as they are just means to a great end, not an end in themselves.

Faith is both light and power.1 Only the attainment of true faith can enable one to overcome any confronting challenges. The great enduring quality of the Ark resonates with the great qualities generated from a deep, certain faith. These attributes include perseverance and patience in doing good both in times of prosperity and in adversity, where it is especially difficult to do good in times of hardship, and even more so in times when advocating good is deemed dubious.

The Ark: A representation of common universal values

The great dangers surrounding and threatening our existence are not just in the visible world around us, but also within us: arrogance, pride, selfishness, greed, oblivion to the suffering or needs of others and many other such traits. We can certainly say that all these dangers, whether apparent or dormant, represent a “Great Flood” and, if correct precautions are not taken, they are bound to crush us – either physically or spiritually or perhaps both.

“The Ark” on the other hand can represent the common universal values that humanity at large shares. When the core human virtues, such as, being trustworthy, honest, loyal, sincere, and patient, are applied correctly and appropriately, they will be a means to protect us from the threat of the imposing “Great Flood.”

One can even say that the force of “The Flood” is so enormous that a protective sanctuary of an “Ark” with the ability to withstand such a destructive force is inevitable. This Ark must be established through the co-operation and dialogue of cultures, where the common universal values of humanity are realized and brought forth again. It will be these shared values of humanity that will serve as a protective shield against the debasing forces of “the Flood,” the real threat to our existence.

The common universal values of humanity are the moral pillars that will and can move each individual to take action for the sake of all and for the betterment of all because in essence these values are based upon recognizing the great, common needs we share rather than our apparent differences. Hence, for the sake of our common needs, it is pertinent to make every effort to co-operate and prevent animosities to the best of our abilities.

The application of these values requires the alleviation of misconceptions and misunderstandings of the great systems that formed civilizations, as well as pro-active dialogue between cultures, communities and individuals. Becoming increasingly more relevant in a constantly developing “global village” such as our contemporary society, these values will be founded and driven by respect, appreciation for the differences of cultures and their contributions to world history. As each individual is a masterpiece of the Creator of the Universe, then their freedom or right to belief, expression and travel should not be violated, for each individual has an inviolable dignity and honor.

The contemporary “social sanctuaries” or “Arks”

Existence is based upon the creation of opposites. Just as the darkest hour of the night happens before dawn; so too the Ark provided much needed solace and sanctuary as the “Great Flood” engulfed all. Similarly, the contemporary “social Ark” will serve to rectify and protect humanity from the social torment and tumults of our current times. Indeed, a great characteristic of a contemporary “social sanctuary” is that it will receive its energy and passion from deep faith and an ultimate sense of responsibility for its actions aiming to reinstate the common values of humanity first within itself and then with others. Each individual (moving as part of a collective whole) of this society will be a kind of “devotee and advocate of love” to provide selfless, altruistic service, consciously reaching out to help the community they come across and to overcome their problems at the expense of their own worldly desires. Being aware of their unremitting duty of gratitude and obligation towards the Creator, their philosophy will be to give without expecting anything in return, seeking only His approval. They will suffer great distress, but in this process they will set forth a great example of tolerance, respect, understanding and generosity. Over the last three decades, millions of individuals have been moved in this way through the inspiration of a great thinker and leader, Fethullah Gulen. 2, 3

One of the greatest diseases of our current times is prejudice and discrimination. Millions of people have suffered and still continue to suffer great anguish as a result of this crippling psychological and social disorder. The contemporary “social Ark” will take upon itself to help cure this disease by consciously drawing attention against the mentality which disregards the myriad of similarities and great common needs of humanity but instead focuses on small but unique differences of individuals or communities, thereby sowing the seeds of hatred. In contrast, they will actively teach what a great act of justice it is to focus on what brings humanity together rather than what seems to divide them. To further demonstrate this reality with example, they will recruit all their personal resources within their reach to melt the icebergs in hearts and bring together communities. Their actions will serve to blow out the fires of hatred and jealousy, fostering what has been neglected for centuries.

As they do so, they will learn and demonstrate how to hate hatred (which is easy to do) and love the act of caring (which is difficult to do). They will establish platforms where people can find common ground to work together to solve the current chaotic problems of our times. Social justice will be born when individuals begin to realize that each person is a unique master-piece that reflects (like a mirror) the most beautiful attributes of its Creator in various ways. When individuals will not be judged by their differences, but when their differences will be viewed as enrichment and a contribution, true global peace will arise. At that point humanity will board the final Ark of social justice and find solace and comfort in appreciating each other.

Sebnem Unlu, PhD, is a Research Faculty at University of Pittsburgh Cancer Institute, USA.

Notes

1. Bediüzzaman Said Nursi. The Words, Twenty-third word, Third point, The Risale-i Nur Collection.
2. Mücahit Bilici. “The Fethullah Gulen Movement and Its Politics of Representation in Turkey,” The Muslim World, volume 96, Issue 1, pgs. 1-20.
3. Serif Ali Tekalan. “A movement of Volunteers.” Paper presented at the conference “Islam in the Contemporary World: The Fethullah Gulen Movement in Thought and Practice,” Rice University, Nov. 12-13, 2005.

Once you realize these things about you and the life that you are living, then it really sounds outrageous when people think they have made a good work of art or they have great taste in art. Could it not be that all people have the same taste but only each individual’s perception is different, as opposed to all people having the same level of perception but different taste?

Most people think that taste is something subjective, that is, everybody has their own taste and that is the end of it. There is nothing more to discuss about taste. Hence, there is no such thing as good taste or bad. Everybody has things they like and things they do not, but no one can say that their taste is any better than someone else’s. Thus, we are all tempted to accept the unquestionable character of taste as the truth since almost everybody agrees on it. Although the majority view is often considered acceptable as a way of ascertaining the truth, there are quite a few examples that show that is just not correct. This article is about one of those examples.

If you are part of the big majority of people that thinks there is no such thing as good taste, you should also think that there is no such thing as good art. I can imagine if I was giving a talk about this article and presenting this exact same argument, there would be fifty hands going up objecting: “That can’t be true; there is Mona Lisa, there is Tortoise Trainer, there is this, and there is that.” But then, whoever did not like Mona Lisa or Tortoise Trainer would just have worse taste than yours, or anybody else who liked it might have better taste for that matter. Hence, we arrive at the conclusion that if there is no good taste, then there is no good art. If we follow the argument further, then there is no good artist.

Suppose you are making a painting or writing a poem, what do you think would be guiding you throughout the whole process? The inevitable answer to this question must be “taste” because each stroke of your brush or each line you add is a decision made by you with the help of your taste. Every move you make is a result of your conscious or subconscious thought that it would make your piece better. But then, if you think that there is no place for a concept of being better in art, you should not be able to make any moves. Not only that, by the same token a brand new blank canvas would be just as good as the ceiling of the Hagia Sophia. What is more, by saving a lot of time and energy, you are doing even better with the blank canvas than the guy who painted the ceiling of Hagia Sophia.

Probably you are thinking that the author of these lines has really lost it now! And maybe, you are thinking that it is about time to move on to the next article. But hold on a second!

I think I may have a solution to this nonsense. If Da Vinci was in Robinson Crusoe’s place, he would still draw the Mona Lisa on that island, but surely, he would be happier if thousands of people came to see it every day. So, there is more to art than pure taste; art has people who appreciate it. It could be argued that an artist enjoys his piece for two possible reasons. First, just because he likes what he does; second, there is an audience who will appreciate what he does.

But before appreciation come attention and interest. People must pay attention or need to have an interest before they understand or even think about something. Only after that do they recognize something is beautiful, and after that comes the appreciation.

Attention and interest are two very broad terms. There are so many different things that attract my attention or interest me, often without me knowing it. Sometimes the rhyme of a poem is so soothing and pleasant that I do not even know, when I read it the first time, that I have actually fallen in love with it. I realize this when I figure out that I have learned the whole thing after a few recitations without expending any special effort to memorize it. It is as if, all of a sudden, I start hearing the constant relaxing whistle of a tall reed in my ears along with the wind. It is a great pleasure to fall asleep in the ambiance of that reed. The bed is no different than a throne for me at that moment.

Once I discover such a lone reed with a soothing melody, I visit her from time to time when I get really tired and need some rest. Then, on one of those visits, just before I fall asleep, I see a ray of a different color through the leaves of the reed; one which I had not noticed before. It is an irreplaceable touch. Surely the poet must have hidden it among the leaves and the branches only for his loyal visitors. Exhilarated by the discovery of this beauty, I start telling the fellows in the shade around me about it. I hear you saying now, “Oh! I thought you were alone under the tree.” No, no! That is impossible. If there is a reed, there will always be fellows under the shade, some for the whistle, some for the colors, some for something you do not know, but there will be always some people enjoying it.

I tell you the little story about me and the poet just to make a point about the type of art that intrigues us. Some art lies in the background quietly, some shakes our very souls and makes us tremble. Some gets carved into our brains immediately, whereas some types challenge our intelligence. In all of those different kinds of good art there is a very essential thing in common. It is the common things that the audience shares.

Although poetry is a type of art with a very broad audience, we can always imagine some people who would have no interest in it at all. Maybe a better example would be a type of beauty that would interest absolutely everybody in this world. Is there anything like that? There are tons of things like that. Who would not like a nightingale singing near dawn, or a warm breeze on the cheek, the harmony of different tones of green in a broad forest, human faces, and the like. Let us focus, for example, on that last one. All of us find human faces interesting, right? I believe that it is encoded in our DNA. A parallel to this is the obsessive compulsion of sculptors to make human faces all the time. Or, think about the number of people whose faces you know but not their names and vice versa. Which number is bigger do you think?

If you are not convinced by these arguments or think that maybe I am biased due to the conditions that I developed in, let us put the same question to babies, who are not biased, at least not just yet! Let us see what they have got to say about this. If you are worried that we cannot really understand what they are saying, there is some help from the psychologists. “In 1961, the psychologist Robert Fantz devised an ingenious method to find out about babies and faces. He designed a stand in which, on the bottom level, the baby lies on his back, looking up. A few feet above is a display area where the experimenter puts two large cards, each containing a design-a white circle, a yellow circle, a bull’s eye, or a simple sketch of face. The researcher, peering down through a tiny peephole, can watch the movement of the baby’s eyes and time how long they are directed at one or the other of each pair of patterns. Fantz found that at two months babies looked twice as long at a bull’s eye as at a circle of solid color, and twice as long at a sketch of a face as at a bull’s eye. Evidently, even a two-month-old can distinguish major differences and direct his gaze toward what he finds more interesting.”¹

With this in mind, we are compelled to acknowledge that the human face appeals to an innate common taste in all humans, either because it is beautiful in itself or because it contains most, if not all, of the things that are to “the common taste” of all humans. Then we can conclude that, as humans, our design is such that we are at least able to appreciate the same things.

Finally, we are in a position to define good art. Good art is such that it passes from its creator and reaches a lot of people who enjoy gazing upon it. Good art attracts attention and interest from a lot of people with different characteristics from different cultures and regardless of all their differences, the essential thing is they all have the same aptitude to enjoy the same thing in various different ways. In other words, good art is a manifestation of unity in multiplicity.

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1. Hunt, M., The Story of Psychology, pp. 366, Anchor Books, 1993