Category Archives: History

“We are digging up the foundations of a very old world.” -Alan Sharp

Muhammad ‘Abduh and Egyptian Islamic Reform

Note: I was offered the opportunity to present a paper at the Middle Eastern and North African Studies Undergraduate Conference at the University of Arizona, but have had numerous cases of the flu since December and the worst case yet hit the day before the conference. As such, I cancelled my presentation, to my immense regret and disappointment, but have decided to post a much briefer version here. Thank you for reading.

Contemporary western discourse on Islam often impose a liberal-conservative, moderate-extremist dichotomy on the Muslim world, ignoring local, idiosyncratic contexts. For instance, such discourse labels the Muslim Brotherhood as a conservative organization, and the Egyptian theologian Muhammad ‘Abduh as a liberal counterexample. The measuring stick western media use, however, is how willing Muslims are to accommodate western influence. ‘Abduh is often seen as sympathetic to western influence, but his political and religious goals were effectively those of the Muslim Brotherhood–to bring the community of believers back to a more authentic practice of Islam because the community has strayed and allowed unlawful innovation.

Abduh

Muhammad ‘Abduh

The youngest child of a rural farmer, ‘Abduh was born in 1849 in a village called Mahallat Nasr, on the Egyptian Nile Delta, into a middle-class family. Egypt was under a series of economic reforms first initiated by Muhammad Ali, a military leader who wanted to industrialize Egypt like Europe. His economic reforms benefited peasants, including ‘Abduh’s father, and those benefits allowed ‘Abduh to leave his rural home to become an Islamic scholar, or ‘alim. ‘Abduh showed much potential; he reportedly memorized the Qur’an at the age of ten. At thirteen, he went to study at the Ahmadi Mosque at Tanta, and later the University of al-Azhar in Cairo. However, ‘Abduh’s experience with the traditional education system was disappointing. The outdated practice of having students memorize centuries-old commentaries on the Qur’an and Hadith frustrated him to the point that he ran away from school multiple times, returning only when his father forced him back.

In addition to his formal education, ‘Abduh received an informal education with his uncle Shaykh Darwish, whom he visited when he was not in school. Darwish had a profound influence on ‘Abduh. He was a Sufi mystic familiar with several North African Sufi Brotherhoods, such as the Sanusiyya and the Tajiniyya, which emphasized an important concept in Islamic discourse, ijtihad, or independent reasoning. Ijtihad allows scholars to rely upon their own reasoning to answer questions. It departs from the method employed at al-Azhar at the time, called taqlid, or reliance upon set precedence, which requires scholars to defer to previously established commentaries, most of which came from the medieval period. While not opposites, ijtihad and taqlid differ greatly from one another, but ‘Abduh learned both simultaneously.

‘Abduh’s two educations coincided. While he continued to tolerate the outdated methods at al-Azhar, he learned from his Sufi uncle who taught mysticism, asceticism, and individual reasoning. These two educations showed ‘Abduh two extremes, the dilapidated structure of Islamic learning in a weakened Egypt trying to imitate Europe, and the informal, thoughtful, and intimate education of Sufi Brotherhoods.

Suez Canal

Painting of the Suez Canal

Meanwhile, Egypt fell into an economic crisis. The Khedive, Isma’il Pasha, turned to European investors to help with the expensive construction of the Suez Canal. These investors, mostly British and French, took an increasingly demanding role in all of Egypt’s economic affairs after the Canal’s 1869 opening. The British exerted more and more control over the Egyptian state, at a time when European powers imposed colonial administration over much of the Islamic world. Many Muslim scholars turned their attention to the threat of Europeanization (taghrib). These scholars traveled, wrote, and publicly spoke about religious reform against colonial authority. One well-established scholar, Jamal al-Din al-Afghani, met ‘Abduh while he was still a student at al-Azhar. In their meeting, they discussed Qur’anic exegesis and theology, and ‘Abduh became one of al-Afghani’s most devoted students.

As the political situation in Egypt worsened, ‘Abduh turned to the press and became politically active. Eventually becoming the chief editor of the Egyptian Official Gazette (Al-Waqai al-Misriya), ‘Abduh published numerous articles critical of what he saw as the most damaging facet of Egypt and the Islamic world: unchecked deference to authority. Taqlid and Europeanization were equally dangerous; ‘Abduh criticized the local ‘ulema for their “obsolete and rambling” denouncements of rubbing alcohol while the British exerted control over Egypt’s finances. Both parties, he argued, were responsible for Egypt’s problems.

Battle of Tel El Kebir 1882

The Battle of Tel-El-Kebir, 1882, leading to the British defeat of the Urabis

‘Abduh and al-Afghani were part of a nationalist movement in Egypt in the 1870s, which culminated in a militant revolt against the British authorities in 1879. Led by Ahmed Urabi, the revolt briefly established a new government in Egypt. ‘Abduh criticized the revolt but nevertheless offered his support through the press in the hopes that all Egyptians would unite under a movement to throw off British control. The Urabi Government, however, ended in 1882 when the British invaded, installed a colonial regime, and exiled of the revolt’s supporters, including ‘Abduh.

al-Afghani

Jamal al-Din al-Afghani

While in exile, ‘Abduh and al-Afghani worked together, mostly in Paris, publishing articles on Islamic reform and European rhetoric that painted Islam as backwards by the standards of post-Enlightenment liberalism. Their writing emphasized criticism, but not blind dismissal, of European influence. He applied ijtihad to European as well as Islamic ideas. For example, a broad-based European education was useful, but the British authority on the grounds of racial and historical superiority was useless and inaccurate.

After his return to Egypt, ‘Abduh was named Grand Mufti of Egypt by the colonial administrators, and he used the opportunity to reform al-Azhar. He expanded the curriculum, adding western subjects such as political science, history, geography, and mathematics. At the same time, he overturned the outdated, taqlid-based system and instead required students to pass tests on their knowledge of both religious and secular subjects. Not only did ‘Abduh hope to produce morally upstanding students, but he also wanted intellectually sophisticated students with an understanding of economics, politics, military science, math, and natural sciences.

If previous generations would have had such education, Egypt might not have fallen into debt. A moral nation-state would not have felt the need to compete with Europe or would not have wanted such an expensive opening of the Suez Canal. An educated Egypt would have had a sufficient background to combat European rhetoric and influence.

‘Abduh once wrote that “life takes precedence over religion in Islam,” meaning that Islam is meant to improve the quality of life for all its subjects. An Islamic Egypt did not entail imitating the precedence of medieval societies, nor did it mean modernizing Islam to fit contemporary standards. Instead, it meant meeting contemporary challenges and constructing a modern nation-state as devoted, thoughtful, well-reasoned Muslims who continually developed along with the ebb and flow of a globalized world while retaining their identity, faith, and authenticity.

Cairo Book Fair

2015 Cairo International Book Fair

‘Abduh was named person of the year at the 2015 Cairo International Book Fair for his reformist discourse. His conceptualization of orthodoxy was a counterexample to numerous forces in his time, the outdated methods of his fellow ‘ulema, khedives trying to compete with the West, and European powers carving the Muslim world into colonies and protectorates. That the Cairo Book Fair would name ‘Abduh their person of the year shows a belief in the continued relevance of his theology. He defied the imperialist rhetoric imposed upon the Muslim world; he still defies the liberal-conservative dichotomy western forces use today to justify forced assimilation of Islamic societies with the West.  ‘Abduh was instead one voice in the diverse scholarly discourse of Islam, a diversity that western media ignore and powerful forces like the Saudi regime and terrorist organizations want to crush.

As such, allowing ‘Abduh to exist in his own context, a reformer trying to implement a more authentic Islam, is an exercise in understanding the intellectual diversity of the Muslim world as a whole, an understanding that over one billion people cannot be reduced to a largely fictional duality.

World War One: The Unpopular Prequel to World War Two

World War One BooksThis semester I’m taking a senior seminar on World War One, for many different reasons: it’s an important event that changed the shape of the world in the twentieth century, I want to know more about it, it’s the hundredth anniversary. I’m also frequently disappointed by how often popular media ignore World War One.

European military history appears in popular arts on a regular basis. We have numerous video games, movies, and documentaries about World War Two. The History Channel has a long list of Hitler-fetish programs (Hitler and the Occult, Hitler’s Henchmen, Hitler’s Women), and in the U.S., WWII movies often come out on or near Christmas Day (Schindler’s List, Valkyrie, and most recently Unbroken, because there’s no better way to celebrate Christmas than by watching portrayals of crimes against humanity). I was excited this past summer when the History Channel announced a six-hour special on both World Wars, but was disappointed when it ignored much of World War One in favor of yet another biography of Hitler; I jokingly called the series Hitler: Origins. Complete with historical inaccuracies, it was effectively a Hollywood trilogy.

Nevertheless, there are some very good portrayals of history in popular media, such as the documentaries of Ken Burns and the BBC series Foyle’s War. These and others pay close attention to detail and often avoid simplifying history. The problem with so many popular depictions is that they present a simple Good Guy/Bad Guy narrative, to the point that World War Two is often reduced to a standard action movie format: bad guys do bad things to good people, good guys intervene, and there’s a happy ending. On the other hand, World War One resists this narrative completely: morally ambiguous empires kept promises to invade each other, millions died without significant progress, and nobody was happy about how it ended.

Popular arts can be useful if treated with the proper attention, and understanding World War One, I think, is sometimes more important than understanding its wildly popular sequel. The problem is that history never translates easily into narrative. It’s not a study of plot and characters, it’s a study of variable circumstance and decision-making without foresight, which can be messy, scary, and uncomfortable. It almost never works out the way we expect or want. Nevertheless, I long for better popular depictions of history. If the History Channel and Hollywood will not grant this wish, then I’ll simply have to do my part as a writer and contribute better, more accurate stories to the canon.

-jk

The 1914 Christmas Truce

December 24, 1914

Memorial for the 1914 Christmas Truce in Flanders, Belgium, where soldiers may have played soccer.

Memorial for the Truce in Flanders, Belgium, where soldiers may have played soccer.

“About five o’clock on Christmas Eve the Germans started lighting up Christmas trees in their trenches. We took no notice of them until they began to sing. Then we began to cheer them and to talk to one another as we are only about 80 yards apart.” -Rifleman C. Ernest Furneaux, British Rifle Brigade, January 4, 1915.

Along the Western Front in France and Belgium, soldiers waited in their trenches on Christmas Eve. British troops enjoyed puddings and cigarettes from home. Across the fields, sometimes only yards apart, German troops decorated small Christmas trees with candles. Both sides had started singing carols, and could hear their sworn enemies singing familiar tunes. French and British soldiers peered out of their trenches and saw hundreds of lights across the fields when curiosity took hold of them. Despite the language barriers and the months-long war, soldiers crawled out of their trenches, walked into the open air, traded gifts, and sang together. Some even played soccer, with a reported German victory of 3-2. They drank, sang, and celebrated Christmas on the battlefield. Later, many soldiers wrote about these events in letters to their friends and families.

“At dawn the Germans displayed a placard over the trenches, on which was written Happy Christmas, and then leaving their trenches unarmed they advanced towards us singing and shouting ‘comrades!’ No one fired.” -Unknown Belgian soldier, January 4, 1915.

The Great War began in August, 1914, and was expected to end before Christmas. By December, it was clear the war would drag on. Soldiers found themselves in appalling conditions. Sanitation was poor, food was scarce, and enemy gunfire was frequent. So, far away from home, threatened with death and disease, cold, hungry, and probably confused, many German, French, and British soldiers decided to stop fighting.

“The British burst into a song with a carol, to which we replied with ‘Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht.’ It was a very moving moment, hated and embittered enemies singing carols around the Christmas tree. All my life I will never forget that sight.” -Josef Wendl, German soldier, January 1915.

In some places, the Truce lasted until Christmas morning. In others, it lasted until New Year’s Day. Soldiers shared whatever food and drink they had, took the opportunity to bury their own dead, and befriended the men they were expected to kill. Some even joined together in a Christmas Mass on the battlefield. Suddenly, the Germans were no longer monsters trying to dismantle civilization; suddenly the French and British were not the greatest threat Europe had ever known.

“Friend and foe stood side by side, bare-headed, watching the tall, grave figure of the padre outlined against the frosty landscape as he blessed the poor broken bodies at his feet. Then with more formal salutes we turned and made our way back to our respective ruts.” -Unknown British soldier, January 15, 1915.

The ceasefire was spontaneous, informal, and technically illegal. Soldiers were forbidden from fraternizing with the enemy, which was relatively easy when trenches were so close, and such interactions sparked sympathy. Though common then, such fraternization is rare today.

In contemporary wars, it is easier to dehumanize the enemy because there are broader cultural differences. American troops during the Korean and Vietnam wars were told they alone prevented the spread of communism, and those Americans who celebrate Christmas now find it difficult to share that holiday with the mostly Sunni Muslim communities of Iraq and Afghanistan. Propaganda dehumanized communists as the negation of American values and contemporary media frequently call Muslim societies the antithesis of western culture.

“Further, they agreed that if by any mischance a single shot were fired, it was not to be taken as an act of war, and an apology would be accepted; also that firing would not be opened without due warning on both sides.” -Unknown Irish soldier, January 2, 1915.

But dehumanization is only a process of denial. No matter how well we deny it, everybody in the crosshairs is a human being. They all have families; they are all lost and confused and angry and shaken. It’s easy to deny the humanity of an Iraqi or a Korean whose language and culture we do not understand. But just like all Americans, they work like us; they make music like us; they bleed and yearn and gasp for one last breath like us.

The trenches were hell on Earth. Nevertheless, people chose to celebrate Christmas in hell. They chose to recognize their mutual humanity and stop their mechanized slaughter. We can learn from the Truce that peace is actually quite simple. All we have to do is realize that, no matter who we’re fighting, all we really want is good food, good music, and good company. If we all stopped listening to the propaganda and acknowledged how much we long for home, maybe we can stop the nonsensical industry of warfare. It may sound preposterous, but the letters prove that such an act, however brief, has a historical precedence. Who’s to say it can’t happen again?

Joyeux Noël.

Schöne Weihnachten.

Happy Christmas.

Election Day Eve Special Post: Elections in History

I VotedTomorrow is an important midterm election in many states in the U.S. That is, if one considers midterm elections important. Elections on a grand scale tend to make the most news: seven billion votes in this year’s election in Afghanistan and nearly a billion in India’s general election. In the UK’s general election in 1918, the nationalist party Sinn Fein won an overwhelming majority in Irish districts and declared the island independent. India’s 1952 general election placed one of the independence movement’s central figures, Jawaharlal Nehru, in the position of Prime Minster, allowing him to shape a newly independent country in a politically and religiously divided atmosphere. These elections involved the participation of millions of people, and received much attention from the world.

Midterm elections may not be on such grand scales, but voting can still make a difference. I researched a few elections where one or two votes determined the outcome. The following are among the more interesting cases:

1887: Conservative Party member Walter Montague won the Canadian federal election in Haldimand, defeating the Liberal Party incumbent Charles Wesley Colter, by one vote. The victory was contested, he was unseated, and won in a second election the same year. That victor was also contested, and he was finally defeated in 1889, which made no difference because he won again in the next election in 1890. He witnessed harsh Canadian politics divided between French Catholics and English Protestants in the relatively new Canadian Confederation formed officially in 1867.

1839: In the gubernatorial election in Massachusetts, considered one of the closest elections in U.S. history, Democrat Marcus Morton defeated Whig Edward Everett by two votes. Although he technically received exactly half of the votes cast and not a majority, he won more than his Whig opponent. A primary concern during the election was the abolition of slavery.

2010: The Kitchener City Council, in Ontario, Canada, saw the victory of Frank Etherington by one vote. Although the city has a population of about 200,000 people, making it a relatively small city, the close call election is still relevant because it went uncontested. Even city council elections are important, and if one or two people chose to vote for another person, the election would have gone another direction.

There are many examples of one or two votes being the deciding factors of elections. Though recounts often differ from the initial results, there are numerous examples of uncontested elections. While there is a history of corruption in United States elections (in Texas in the 1930s “stuffing” ballots was a relatively common practice) and elections in general can often take preposterous turns (some parliamentarians in India have won elections from inside a jail cell after their arrest for corruption or other crimes), these events are all important moments in history. While it is unlikely that tomorrow’s election will later become a marked day in United States history, there is still the opportunity to make minor changes at a local level. A single vote may only make a difference on rare occasions, but such an occasion tomorrow is far from impossible.

-jk

A Changing Interest in the Islamic World

Middle Eastern StudiesToday, i consider myself a student of world history, and I know that an interest in the Islamic world drew me into history. I have not always been fascinated with this region, but I can trace a my interest as far back as my childhood, growing up in a household that read news, politics, and political satire.

If I remember correctly, my family began watching The Daily Show right after the 9/11 terrorist attacks. That was my first introduction into world politics, but I was too young to understand any of it. Years later, in my sophomore year of high school, I developed a greater awareness of the world. It started when I read Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi for a creative writing class. Then, in a world history class, we discussed the spread of Islam. I watched Jon Stewart, Gary Trudeau, and other political humorists dissect the war on terror. Lastly, at the end of the year, my friends and I saw a woman in a niqab pass us in the street. One of my friends turned and asked me if Flagstaff had any mosques. I shrugged. Another friend said that there were none, and then both expressed their thankfulness for the lack of mosques in our town.

That moment left a strange impression on me. It was not my first encounter with bigotry. After all, I grew up in Arizona. But it left a sour taste in my mouth being so close to friends as they said something that to me was unfounded in sound logic. Why be happy that there are no mosques? I was baffled.

In college, I decided to educate myself about the Islamic world. I wanted to combat bigotry at first, but the more I learned about Edward Said and Orientalism, the more I learned about the Safavids and Ottomans and Mughals, the more interviews I saw of Afghan women who smile when they bring up the forty years of warfare they’ve seen, the more I realized that my true interest was not in combating bigotry, but in seeing a region of the world through the eyes of that region’s inhabitants. I don’t know exactly when I arrived at my next conclusion, but I am now fully aware that if I were to study only bigotry, hatred, and misrepresentation, I would still have a skewed view of the Islamic world. Opposing bigotry is necessary, but if it’s the main focus of study, one is left with a perception of Muslims as hapless victims whose lives began with the emergence of an oppressive Europe, and as nothing else. In truth, the history I learned about was full of great passions, eras of peace and poetry contrasted with periods of strife, poverty, combat, and reconstruction. The history of the Islamic world, as is the case with any other history, should be studied not from the perspective of lofty postcolonial analysts, but from the perspective of the history’s communities as they lived and thought.

My interest in world history began with a desire to oppose misrepresentation, and has become an interest in how people lived, ate, thought, worshiped, wrote, constructed buildings, saw the world, saw their neighbors, encountered one another, wrote music, traded goods, and understood their mortality. Postcolonial criticism, I think, should never serve to make scholars feel better about the academic ancestry’s role in justifying colonialism. A liberal European perspective of Europe is still a Eurocentric perspective. Instead, I want to study how Afghans constructed their own identities. I want to study court society in the Mughal Empire. I want to study Palestinian love poetry, the development of algebra and astronomy and science in the medieval era, and different Sufi brotherhoods in North Africa.

How else can we study history?

-jk

 

The War to Start All Wars

August 4, 1914

Political cartoon by Walter Trier (1890-1951).

Political cartoon by Walter Trier (1890-1951).

Today marks the hundredth anniversary of two major events in the First World War, Germany’s invasion of neutral Belgium to gain strategic access to France, and Britain’s declaration of war with Germany.

France was allied with Russia in 1914 through the Franco-Russian Alliance of 1892. Germany had declared war with Russia on August 1, 1914, to retaliate against Russia’s military organization and its allegiance with Serbia, which was in conflict with Austro-Hungary, Germany’s ally as part of the Triple Alliance of 1882 between Austro-Hungary, Germany, and Italy.

The conflict began with the assassination of Franz Ferdinand, heir to the Austro-Hungarian Throne, on July 28, 1914 in Sarajevo. The assassin, Gavrilo Princip, was one of six Slavic nationalists whose plot was intended to cut ties between Austro-Hungary and Serbia in order to create Yugoslavia as an independent, pan-Slavic state incorporating Bosnia, Croatia, Serbia, and other south-Slavic regions.

As the conflict escalated from a reactionary political crisis to a military conflict between powerful alliances, other nations entered the war, including Bulgaria, Italy, Japan, the Ottoman Empire, and the United States.

WWI

An estimated 9 million people died in the First World War. It brought to light outdated imperial agendas and alliances, introduced horrendous new military technologies including the tank and chemical weapons, and put on hiatus intellectual movements pushing for women’s rights, minority rights, and worker’s rights. Multiple nations are responsible for atrocities, including the German treatment of Belgian civilians and the Ottoman implementation of the Armenian Genocide.

Empires collapsed during the war. Irish and Russian political revolutionaries took up arms during the war, partially motivated by the appalling death toll by 1916 and 1917. As a result of subsequent events, England partitioned Ireland, the USSR replaced the Russian Empire, and the Ottoman empire dissolved along with the centuries-old Caliphate.

In a desperate effort to prevent another such war, the League of Nations was formed. So too was the Treaty of Versailles, which placed astronomical debt on Germany and fueled radical parties left and right. The aftermath of the War led to numerous other conflicts: civil wars, partitions, decolonization, and the Second World War. As a result of World War Two, superpower nations entered the Cold War, accompanied by the Space Race, Arms Race, nuclear proliferation, and military intervention in Latin America, Asia, Africa, and the Arab World.

The War influenced Modernism and ultimately obliterated popular perceptions of war as romantic. It changed art, literature, music, popular culture, and even cinema with the adaptation of Erich Remarque’s All Quiet on the Western Front.

The First World War was a humanitarian calamity; almost all conflicts today can be traced to the War. The exact causes are still contested. Some point to imperial allegiances; others point to an interest, especially by Britain, to suppress political activism from suffragists and socialists. Others point to a moment of panic among imperial leaders. Regardless of the causes, it repeatedly defined and redefined the twentieth century. Today, as Russia enters Ukraine, as Israel assaults Gaza, as complex networks of allegiances overlap and the U.S. flails when asked about whom it considers its allies, the conditions for a world conflict are strikingly similar.

The Great War mutilated the twentieth century, but it is not yet clear if it will do the same to the twenty-first. If political leaders panic in a moment of crisis and declare war within a month, world conflict may continue. Alternatively, we could all take a moment and consider the dangers of reactionary retaliation and ask ourselves if we want another century of war and genocide, if we want to see 9 million more dead for a war that can so easily be avoided. I hope that commemorations such as this one in London will motivate nations to pause before considering military action. One day, I hope military action will no longer be perceived as an easy option, because for the victims and survivors, there’s nothing easy about it.

-jk

A Brief Note About Galway

Corrib River

On the furthest western edge of Europe, on the western coast of Ireland, is a city called Galway. The River Corrib flows through the city into the Atlantic, and Galway is crisscrossed with bridges and waterways. Although it seems to be far-removed from most of European activity, an isolated region of an isolated country, Galway is exceptionally cosmopolitan, with roots as a trading network and a social junction during the seventeenth century. Galway merchants sailed to Italy with Irish wool, and returned with goods from the Mediterranean, including fine wines and art. Maritime commerce was, and still is, a central part of life here.

Galway

Today, it reminds me of my hometown, Flagstaff. The National University of Ireland, Galway, brings in new students and faculty, and with them ideas, to the city. There is a flourishing art scene here, which includes the Galway Film Fleadh, the Arts Festival, and a farmer’s market every Saturday. But more like Flagstaff, it is a point between destinations. Flagstaff is on Route 66 and in addition sees about a hundred trains pass through each day, it is a stopping point for many people; similarly, Galway is a coastal trading city where travelers, ideas, cuisine, and cultures converge. Both cities are driven by university life and academic patronage, whose dispensation is evident in artistic displays, festivals, and even graffiti. In fact, I have seen more graffiti in Galway than my own town. Graffiti

Medium-sized, quirky communities can be found anywhere, I think. They act like cities and small towns at the same time. They are twilight cities on the edge of the new and the old. For a writer, these are the best places, because they tend to be the strangest, in my experience. Places like Boulder, Missoula, Flagstaff, and even Galway on the edge of the Atlantic, are in my opinion the most authentic, appealing communities in the world.

-jk

Kiss Me, I’m Torn by Sectarian Violence

Church

Many people go to Ireland to drink, look at the lush green landscape, have another drink, and fantasize about ancient Celtic culture as they understand it from Renaissance festivals. Often, the turbulent nature of Irish history, as is the case with much of history, goes ignored. Ireland has suffered tremendous oppression and violence, as well as poverty and disease. This can be seen in the capital city’s cemeteries. Glasnevin Cemetery, in Dublin, holds 1.5 million bodies, and the population of Dublin is 1.2 million; there are more dead Irish in one cemetery alone than there are living in the entire city. For a brief time during the Famine in the nineteenth century, fifty percent of the population of Dublin died before reaching the age of eighteen, dying in the slums which were considered among the worst in Europe.

With these and other atrocities in mind, outraged and lamenting Irish citizens formed organizations to counter and ultimately oust British rule over the island, and as a result, hundreds died in a bloody insurrection in April and May of 1916. A civil war followed the negotiated partition of the country into two halves, and sectarian violence from both Catholic Republicans and Protestant loyalists continued well into the latter half of the twentieth century. Some Irish and Northern Irish citizens were targeted only for their religious conviction, and bombings became commonplace in Ireland, as is the case in Iraq, Afghanistan, and Syria today.
Issues surrounding commemoration involve a shared place but not a shared memory. Many Catholic citizens have an emotional stake in keeping the memory of British oppression alive, while many loyalists want Ireland to acknowledge that the IRA committed atrocities against innocent Protestants. A historian told me today that when the meaning is stripped away from history, all that remains is a list of the dead, the one universality that all remembrances share. Thousands of people died in Ireland fighting for what they believed was a just cause; the reasons for the conflict are still disputed today, and there is no concurrence regarding who should be blamed, resulting in a society where one figure can be a villain and a hero at the same time, in the same region, even in the same pub. Keeping intact a divided country is still a challenge, and historiography plays a major role.

The Irish façade of beer and merry musicians is a part of Irish history, as my cabby made clear to me when he discussed the many gigs he has played in Irish pubs. But he was also frank in explaining the problems of remembrance, the survival of the Irish language, and the Irish emigration during the Famine years. This is not a place that can possibly live up to the façade for which so many tourists come. This is a place where, as we approach the hundredth anniversary of a century of violence and conflict, the complexity of a shared atrocity across sectarian lines is unavoidable, no matter how many ridiculous T-shirts one buys.

-JK

 

A Nation of Writers

Irish Books

In a few days, I will depart across the Atlantic and spend a month in Ireland studying its history and literature. In many ways I’ll be a fish out of water. I willingly admit that I know very little about Ireland. The authors I have read have mostly been from the Americas, and the history I’ve studied has mainly been twentieth century conflict and the Cold War. Apart from a small ancestral connection, Ireland has not played a major role in my studies or my life. So naturally I decided to spend five weeks there, because among the few things I know about Ireland, I know it’s a nation of writers.

Four of Ireland’s writers (William Butler Yeats, George Bernard Shaw, Samuel Beckett, and Seamus Heaney) have been awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature. Countless other Irish writers have left the world with outstanding literary works. A handful of the Irish writers includes James Joyce, Elizabeth Bowen, Oscar Wilde, John B. Keane, Brian Friel, Sean O’Casey, Johnathan Swift, Edna O’Brien, Molly Keane, and numerous others. In contrast to the rich literary tradition, there are few major Irish painters, sculptors, and composers. There is a longstanding oral tradition, and in the past century a theatrical tradition has developed. The essential form of artistic expression in Ireland is the written word.

Ninety years ago, Ireland was engulfed in sectarian violence along religious and geopolitical lines, similar to what is seen today in parts of the Arab world and parts of Africa. A violent uprising and civil war began in 1916 accompanying the First World War, and the country split in two. Meanwhile, the Irish wrote poetry, novels, and plays amid the chaos. Their history is no different from the history I have studied. The Irish have suffered colonialism, violence, and poverty, and have expressed themselves through art and literature the way Russians, Afghans, Indians, Syrians, and Chileans have. I hope to immerse myself in the literature in its original context, to know the ins and outs of literature as thoroughly and intimately as I can.

-JK

A Letter From Ludwig van Beethoven

Fiddle

On this day in 1827, Ludwig van Beethoven died at the age of 57. He completed nine symphonies, twelve concertos, numerous arrangements, sonatas, trios, and quartets. He was a prolific composer whose impact on the musical world and western art is immeasurable. He was young when be began to lose his hearing, and there was at least one distinct moment when he weighed the burden of his life against the value of his art. At that moment, Beethoven considered the possibility of ending his life.

In 1802, he moved to Heiligenstadt, a short distance from Vienna, to rest while facing the reality of his deafness. In October, he wrote a letter to his brothers Carl and Johann in which he expressed his grief and anguish over his loss of hearing, lamenting incidents when, for instance, a flute played but he could not hear it.  Of these incidents he wrote the following: “Little more and I would have put an end to my life –only art it was withheld me, as it seemed impossible to leave the world until I had produced all that I felt called upon me to produce.” He was twenty-eight years old when he wrote this letter, but kept it secret. It was only made public after his death.

I have always been fascinated and inspired by his reasoning to refrain from ending his life, that the world demanded he keep composing. I think of it as a humble and intellectually sophisticated approach to his struggle; he could not hear music, but his community could, and he felt he had an obligation to contribute. His life could continue so long as his ability to compose remained, even if he could only imagine the music he produced, the applause he received, and the praises of his family.

Although I find it inspiring that he allowed his art to take precedence over his misery, I wonder about other artists, musicians, and writers who chose to commit suicide. Could Ernest Hemingway have written one more novel? Was Sylvia Plath depleted of poems? What more would Vincent van Gogh have painted had he held out a few more years? I cannot speculate about most artists, but I know that if Beethoven had chosen to end his life when he seems to have considered it most seriously, we would not have his third symphony Eroica, his D Major violin concerto, or my favorite of his late string quartets.

I know too many people who contemplate suicide regularly. They are my close friends, loved ones, and colleagues. Today, I think, it is easy to romanticize Beethoven’s life and call him a tortured artist. In truth, there is nothing romantic about considering suicide. Most, if not all, writers who suffer from depression or bipolar disorder will tell you that it’s detrimental to creativity.  But despite the darkness that so many of us inhabit, I know many people for whom art is the only sustenance. I know poets, musicians, painters, and writers who contemplate suicide but feel joy and meaning in their creative outlets. For them, art is a necessity during the worst periods of depression, no matter how difficult creativity can become during those periods.

I don’t know if we can determine that Beethoven suffered depression by current medical standards, but I think more honestly we can say that he found himself questioning the value of life and decided that there existed something more important than, and yet at the same time dependent upon, his life. I think that this is a great paradox for artists: what sustains the artist is a product of the artist’s own efforts. It is a positive cycle. I know that when life no longer feels worth living, I can take comfort in Beethoven’s decision, and like him I can treat my life like the rough draft of a magnum opus.