The "Muslim World"

By Cemil Aydin
Full version if this article is originally published as What is Muslim World? by aeon.co on 1 August 2018.

Nearly a fifth of the way into the 21st century, however, Pan-Africanism and Pan-Asianism seems to have vanished but Pan-Islamism and the ideal of Muslim world solidarity survives. Why? The answer lies in the final stages of the Cold War. It was in the 1980s that a new Muslim internationalism emerged, as part of a rising political Islam. It was not a clash between the primordial civilisational traditions of Islam and the West, or a reassertion of authentic religious values. It wasn’t even a persistence of early 20th-century Pan-Islamism, but rather a new formation of the Cold War. A Saudi-US alliance began promoting the idea of Muslim solidarity in the 1970s as an alternative to the secular Pan-Arabism of the Egyptian president Gamal Abdel Nasser, whose country allied with the Soviet Union. Any ideas of an ‘Islamic’ utopia would have floundered if not for the failures of many post-colonial nation-states and the subsequent public disillusionment of many Muslims.

The notion that Pan-Islamism represents authentic, ancient, repressed Muslim political values in revolt against global Westernisation and secularisation was initially a paranoid obsession of Western colonial officers, but recently it comes mainly from Islamists. Western pundits and journalists have erred in accepting at face value Islamist claims about Islam’s essential political values. The kind of Islamism that’s identified with Egypt’s Muslim Brotherhood or Ruhollah Khomeini’s Iran did not exist before the 1970s. None of the Indian Muslims meeting Wilson, nor the late Ottoman-era caliphs, were interested in imposing Sharia in their society. None of them wanted to veil women. On the contrary, the first Pan-Islamist generation was highly modernist: they were proponents of the liberation of women, racial equality and cosmopolitanism. Indian Muslims, for example, were very proud that the Ottoman caliph had Greek and Armenian ministers and ambassadors. They also wanted to see the British Crown appointing Hindu and Muslim ministers and high-level officials in their governments. None would have desired or predicted the separation of Turks and Greeks in Ottoman lands, Arabs and Jews in Palestine, and Muslims and Hindus in India. Only the basic form of early 20th-century Pan-Islamism survives today; the substance of it has, since the 1980s, transformed completely.

The fact that both Lewis and Osama bin Laden spoke of an eternal clash between a united Muslim world and a united West does not mean it is a reality. Even at the peak of the idea of global Muslim solidarity in the late 19th century, Muslim societies were divided across political, linguistic and cultural lines. Since the time of prophet Muhammad’s Companions in the seventh century, hundreds of diverse kingdoms, empires and sultanates, some in conflict with each other, ruled over Muslim populations mixed with others. Separating Muslims from their Hindu, Buddhist, Christian and Jewish neighbours, and thinking of their societies in isolation, bears no relationship to the historical experience of human beings. There has never been, and could never be, a separate ‘Muslim world’.

All the new fascist Right-wing anti-Muslim groups in Europe and the US obsesses over Ottoman imperial expansion in eastern Europe. They see the Ottoman siege of Vienna of 1683 as the Islamic civilisation’s near-takeover of ‘the West’. But in the Battle of Vienna, Protestant Hungarians allied with the predominantly Muslim Ottoman empire against the Catholic Habsburgs. It was a complex conflict between empires and states, not a clash of civilisations.

The Hindu nationalism of India’s prime minister Narendra Modi promotes the idea of an alien Mughal empire that invaded India and ruled over Hindus. But Hindu bureaucrats played a vital role in India’s Mughal empire, and Mughal emperors were simply empire-builders, not zealots of theocratic rule over different faith communities. There are also Muslims today who look back at the Mughal empire in India as an instance of Muslim domination over Hindus. It is notable and important that anti-Muslim Western propaganda and Pan-Islamic narratives of history resemble one another. They both rely on the civilisational narrative of history and a geopolitical division of the world into discrete ahistorical entities such as black Africa, the Muslim world, Asia and the West.

Contemporary Pan-Islamism also idealises a mythical past. According to Pan-Islamists, the ummah, or worldwide Muslim community, originated at a time when Muslims were not humiliated by racist white empires or aggressive Western powers. Pan-Islamists want to ‘make the ummah great again’. Yet the notion of a golden age of Muslim political unity and solidarity relies on amnesia about the imperial past. Muslim societies were never politically united, and there were never homogeneous Muslim societies in Eurasia. None of the Muslim dynasty-ruled empires aimed to subjugate non-Muslims by pious believers. Like the Ottoman, Persian or Egyptian monarchs of the late 19th century, they were multi-ethnic empires, employing thousands of non-Muslim bureaucrats. Muslim populations simply never asked for global ummah solidarity before the late 19th-century moment of racialised European empires.

The term ‘the Muslim world’ first appeared in the 1870s. Initially, it was European missionaries or colonial officers who favoured it as a shorthand to refer to all those between the ‘yellow race’ of East Asia and the black race in Africa. They also used it to express their fear of a potential Muslim revolt, though Muslim subjects of empire were no more or less rebellious to their empires than Hindu or Buddhist subjects. After the great Indian Rebellion of 1857, when both Hindus and Muslims rose up against the British, some British colonial officers blamed Muslims for this uprising. William Wilson Hunter, a British colonial officer, questioned whether Indian Muslims could be loyal to a Christian monarch in his influential book, The Indian Musalmans: Are They Bound in Conscience to Rebel Against the Queen? (1871). In reality, Muslims were not much different from Hindus in terms of their loyalty as well as their critique of the British empire. Elite Indian Muslims, such as the reformist Syed Ahmad Khan, wrote angry rebuttals to Hunter’s allegations. But they also accepted his terms of debate, in which Muslims were a distinct and separate category of Indians.

The growth of European nationalisms also found a useful enemy in Muslims, specifically the Ottoman sultan. In the late 19th century, Greek, Serbian, Romanian and Bulgarian nationalists all began to depict the Ottoman sultan as a despot. They appealed to British liberals to break the Ottoman-British alliance on behalf of a global Christian solidarity. Anti-Ottoman British liberals such as William Gladstone argued that Christian solidarity should be important for British decisions with regard to the Ottoman empire. It is in that context that the Ottoman sultan referred to his spiritual link with Indian Muslims, to argue for a return to an Ottoman-British alliance thanks to this special connection between these two big Muslim empires.

In his influential book The Future of Islam (1882), the English poet Wilfrid Scawen Blunt argued that the Ottoman empire would eventually be expelled from Europe, and that Europe’s crusading spirit would turn Istanbul into a Christian city. Blunt also claimed that the British empire, lacking the hatred of Muslims of the Austrians, the Russians or the French, could become the protector of the world’s Muslim populations in Asia. In patronising and imperial ways, Blunt seemed to care about the future of Muslims. He was a supporter and friend of leading Muslim reformists such as Al-Afghani and Muhammad Abduh, and served as an intermediary between European intellectual circles and Muslim reformists.

Around the same time that Blunt was writing, the influential French intellectual Ernest Renan formulated a very negative view of Islam, especially in regard to science and civilisation. Renan saw Islam as a Semitic religion that would impede the development of science and rationality. His ideas symbolised the racialisation of Muslims via their religion. Of course, Renan was making this argument in Paris, which ruled over large parts of Muslim North Africa and West Africa. His ideas helped to rationalise French colonial rule. Al-Afghani and many other Muslim intellectuals wrote rebuttals of Renan’s arguments, while being supported by Blunt. But Renan enjoyed more success in creating a distracting narrative of a separate Islamic civilisation versus a Western, Christian civilisation.

European elites’ claims of a Western civilising mission, and the superiority of the Christian-Western civilisation, were important to the colonial projects. European intellectuals took up vast projects of classifying humanity into hierarchies of race and religion. It was only in response to this chauvinistic assertion that Muslim intellectuals fashioned a counter-narrative of Islamic civilisation. In an attempt to assert their dignity and equality, they emphasised the past glory, modernity and civility of ‘the Muslim world’. These Muslim opponents of European imperial ideology – of the white race’s civilisational superiority over Muslims and other coloured races – were the first Pan-Islamists.

During the early 20th century, Muslim reformers began to cultivate a historical narrative that emphasised a shared civilisation, with a golden age in Islamic science and art, and its subsequent decline. This idea of a holistic Muslim history was a novel creation fashioned directly in response to the idea of a Western civilisation and the geopolitical arguments of Western/white racial unity. Like the early generation of Pan-African and Pan-Asian intellectuals, Muslim intellectuals responded to European chauvinism and Western orientalism with their own glorious history and civilisation. Throughout the 20th century, the great Muslim leaders such as Turkey’s Mustafa Kemal Atatürk, Nasser in Egypt, Iran’s Mohammad Mosaddeq and Indonesia’s Sukarno were all secular nationalists, but all of them needed and used this notion of a glorious history of Muslim civilisation to talk back against ideologies of white supremacy. Nationalism eventually triumphed, and during the 1950s and ’60s the idea of Islam as a force in world affairs also faded from Western journalism and scholarship.

Pan-Islamic ideologies did not resurface again until the 1970s and ’80s, and then with a new character and tone. They returned as an expression of discontent with the contemporary world. After all, gone were the heady days of mid-20th-century optimism about modernisation. The United Nations had failed to solve existential issues. Post-colonial nation-states had not brought liberty and prosperity to most of the world’s Muslims. Meanwhile, Europe, the US and the Soviet Union showed little concern for the suffering of Muslim peoples. Islamist parties such as the Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt and Jamaat-e-Islami in Pakistan appeared, maintaining that the colonisation of Palestine and the tribulations of poverty required a new form of solidarity.

The Iranian Revolution of 1979 proved a historic moment. To condemn the status quo, Khomeini appealed to this new form of Pan-Islamism. Yet, his Iran and its regional rival Saudi Arabia both privileged the national interests of their states. So there has never been a viable federative vision of this new Pan-Islamic solidarity. Unlike Pan-Africanism, which idealised black-skinned populations living in solidarity within post-colonial Africa, Pan-Islamism rests on a sense of victimhood without a practical political project. It is less about real plans to establish a Muslim polity than about how to end the oppression and discrimination shared by an imagined global community.

The calls for global Muslim solidarity can never be understood by looking at religious texts or Muslim piety. It is developments in modern intellectual and geopolitical history that have generated and shaped Pan-Islamic views of history and the world. Perhaps their crucial feature is the idea of the West as a place with its own historical narrative and enduring political vision of global hegemony. The Soviet Union, the US, the EU – all the global Western projects of the 20th century imagine a superior West and its hegemony. Early Pan-Islamic intellectuals developed Muslim narratives of a historical global order as a strategy to combat imperial discourses about their inferiority, which suffused colonial metropoles, orientalist writings and European social sciences. There simply could not be a Pan-Islamic narrative of the global order without its counterpart, the Western narrative of the world, which is equally tendentious as history.

Ideas of Western and Islamic worlds seem like enemies in the mirror. We should not let the colonisers of the late-19th century set the terms of today’s discussion on human rights and good governance. As long as we accept this tendentious opposition between ‘the West’ and ‘the Muslim world’, we are still captives to colonisation and the failures of decolonisation. In simply recognising and rejecting these terms of discussion, we can be free to move forward, to think about one another and the world in more realistic and humane ways. Our challenge today is to find a new language of rights and norms that is not captive to the fallacies of Western civilisation or its African, Asian and Muslim alternatives. Human beings, irrespective of their colour and religion, share a single planet and a connected history, without civilisational borders. Any forward path to overcome current injustices and problems must rely on our connections and shared values, rather than civilisational tribalism.

Non-Western Philosophies

One of the major Western philosophers who read with fascination Jesuit accounts of Chinese philosophy was Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz (1646-1716). He was stunned by the apparent correspondence between binary arithmetic (which he invented, and which became the mathematical basis for all computers) and the I Ching, or Book of Changes, the Chinese classic that symbolically represents the structure of the Universe via sets of broken and unbroken lines, essentially 0s and 1s. (In the 20th century, the psychoanalyst Carl Jung was so impressed with the I Ching that he wrote a philosophical foreword to a translation of it.) Leibniz also said that, while the West has the advantage of having received Christian revelation, and is superior to China in the natural sciences, ‘certainly they surpass us (though it is almost shameful to confess this) in practical philosophy, that is, in the precepts of ethics and politics adapted to the present life and the use of mortals’.

via Aeon

Why are some parts of the world rich, and other parts poor?

This “great divergence” is even more intriguing given how relatively recent it is: 500 years ago the west was no richer than the far east, while 1,000 years ago, the Islamic world was more developed than Christian Europe in everything from mathematics to philosophy, engineering to technology, agriculture to medicine; the medieval German nun and writer Hrotsvitha called Islamic Córdoba “the ornament of the world”.

By 1600, however, the Islamic world had fallen behind western Europe, and for centuries the Middle East has been beset by slow growth, persistent poverty and seemingly intractable social problems. North-western Europe, by contrast, became the richest corner of the world, the hub of industrialisation and globalisation. In this sweeping and provocative book, the economic historian Jared Rubin asks how such a dramatic reversal of fortunes came about.

Rubin has no time for those who see the answer in any supposed “backwardness” of the Muslim faith. The successes of medieval Islam alone show that there is nothing against progress in its religious doctrine: “The superiority of the learned man over the devout is like that of the moon over the rest of the stars,” states one of Muhammad’s hadiths. Instead, Rubin argues that differences in the way religion and government interact caused the economic fortunes of Europe and the Middle East to diverge.

The driving motivation of most rulers is not ideology or to do good, but to maintain and strengthen their hold on power: “to propagate their rule”. This requires “coercion” – the ability to enforce power – and, crucially, some form of “legitimacy”. In the medieval world, both Islamic and Christian rulers claimed part of their legitimacy from religious authorities, but after the Reformation, Rubin thinks that European governments had to turn away from religion as a source of political legitimacy.

By getting “religion out of politics”, Europe made space at the political “bargaining table” for economic interests, creating a virtuous cycle of “pro-growth” policy-making. Islamic rulers, by contrast, continued to rely on religious legitimation and economic interests were mostly excluded from politics, leading to governance that focused on the narrow interests of sultans, and the conservative religious and military elites who backed them.

The source of Europe’s success, then, lies in the Reformation, a revolution in ideas and authority spread by what Martin Luther called “God’s highest and ultimate gift of grace”: the printing press. Yet even though printers quickly discovered how to adapt movable type to Arabic lettering, there were almost no presses in the Middle East for nearly 300 years after Gutenberg’s invention. Conservative Islamic clerics did not want the press to undermine their power, and the state – still tied to religion not commerce – had no incentive to overrule them. Not until 1727 did the Ottoman state permit printing in Arabic script, with a decree that the device would finally be “unveiled like a bride and will not again be hidden”. The prohibition was “one of the great missed opportunities of economic and technological history”, a vivid example of the dead hand of religious conservatism.

By contrast, Europe was revolutionised. Rubin argues that the Dutch revolt against Catholic Spain and the English crown’s “search for alternative sources of legitimacy” after breaking with Rome empowered the Dutch and English parliaments: by the 1600s both countries were ruled by parliamentary governments that included economic elites. Their policies – such as promoting trade and protecting property rights – were conducive to broader economic progress. Decoupling religion from politics had created space for “pro-commerce” interests.

Answering long-term questions requires both Rubin’s big picture macro-history and his awareness that even small events can set history’s direction and create “path dependencies”. But zoom out too far and the big picture can blur. Many developments affected who got a seat at the table, from changes in wealth generation to the impact of imperialism, and there was a lot more to English and Dutch success than institutional change, not least innovation in science and technology. Most important, Europe’s long reformations were more a maze than a path. As Rubin notes, “getting religion (mostly) out of politics took centuries” – centuries of radical social upheaval and destructive warfare. He argues persuasively for the importance of both religion and secularisation in economic history, but religious change affected not just politics but culture and ideas.

Early in the 20th century, Max Weber noted that many regions that had done well economically were Protestant, while some Catholic regions lagged behind. Rubin thinks Weber’s explanation – a Protestant “spirit of capitalism” – was unquestionably wrong, but that the pattern he spotted was correct. Not all recent economic analyses agree that Protestant cities did better than Catholic ones, but one Catholic region that certainly did lag behind was Spain. Early modern Europe’s first superpower grew persistently slowly after the 16th century, and Rubin shows that poor governance from a Spanish crown that ignored the country’s pro-commercial interests was often to blame. Imperial overreach, overreliance on colonial treasure, and myopic policymaking all inhibited development.

But were Spain’s struggles really due to the continued power of religion? The Spanish inquisition was not purely, as Rubin characterises it, a “costly” concession to the church in return for legitimation, but a state institution of social control; and Spanish kings did not involve themselves in endless European warfare purely to “protect the church’s interests”. State and religious interests were not so easily separable, and Spain had other problems too, including a regional fragmentation that lingers today.

In the Middle East the powers of state and religion were fused by Ottoman sultans intent on legitimising their rule and expansion through Islam. Unity that had been a medieval advantage became an early modern hindrance: with no political need to negotiate with economic interests, the Ottomans failed to pursue modernising reforms in finance, currency and law. It was not until the 19th century, with the region far behind the west, that liberal reform came, and its advance was swiftly checked by authoritarianism, religious conservatism and colonialism.

Via Guardian

Struggle For Smarts? How Eastern And Western Cultures Tackle Learning

In 1979, when Jim Stigler was still a graduate student at the University of Michigan, he went to Japan to research teaching methods and found himself sitting in the back row of a crowded fourth-grade math class.

"The teacher was trying to teach the class how to draw three-dimensional cubes on paper," Stigler explains, "and one kid was just totally having trouble with it. His cube looked all cockeyed, so the teacher said to him, 'Why don't you go put yours on the board?' So right there I thought, 'That's interesting! He took the one who can't do it and told him to go and put it on the board.' "

Stigler knew that in American classrooms, it was usually the best kid in the class who was invited to the board. And so he watched with interest as the Japanese student dutifully came to the board and started drawing, but still couldn't complete the cube. Every few minutes, the teacher would ask the rest of the class whether the kid had gotten it right, and the class would look up from their work, and shake their heads no. And as the period progressed, Stigler noticed that he — Stigler — was getting more and more anxious.

"I realized that I was sitting there starting to perspire," he says, "because I was really empathizing with this kid. I thought, 'This kid is going to break into tears!' "

But the kid didn't break into tears. Stigler says the child continued to draw his cube with equanimity. "And at the end of the class, he did make his cube look right! And the teacher said to the class, 'How does that look, class?' And they all looked up and said, 'He did it!' And they broke into applause." The kid smiled a huge smile and sat down, clearly proud of himself.

Stigler is now a professor of psychology at UCLA who studies teaching and learning around the world, and he says it was this small experience that first got him thinking about how differently East and West approach the experience of intellectual struggle.

"I think that from very early ages we [in America] see struggle as an indicator that you're just not very smart," Stigler says. "It's a sign of low ability — people who are smart don't struggle, they just naturally get it, that's our folk theory. Whereas in Asian cultures they tend to see struggle more as an opportunity."

In Eastern cultures, Stigler says, it's just assumed that struggle is a predictable part of the learning process. Everyone is expected to struggle in the process of learning, and so struggling becomes a chance to show that you, the student, have what it takes emotionally to resolve the problem by persisting through that struggle.

"They've taught them that suffering can be a good thing," Stigler says. "I mean it sounds bad, but I think that's what they've taught them."

Granting that there is a lot of cultural diversity within East and West and it's possible to point to counterexamples in each, Stigler still sums up the difference this way: For the most part in American culture, intellectual struggle in schoolchildren is seen as an indicator of weakness, while in Eastern cultures it is not only tolerated but is often used to measure emotional strength.

It's a small difference in approach that Stigler believes has some very big implications.

'Struggle'

Stigler is not the first psychologist to notice the difference in how East and West approach the experience of intellectual struggle.

Jin Li is a professor at Brown University who, like Stigler, compares the learning beliefs of Asian and U.S. children. She says that to understand why these two cultures view struggle so differently, it's good to step back and examine how they think about where academic excellence comes from.

For the past decade or so, Li has been recording conversations between American mothers and their children, and Taiwanese mothers and their children. Li then analyzes those conversations to see how the mothers talk to the children about school.

She shared with me one conversation that she had recorded between an American mother and her 8-year-old son.

The mother and the son are discussing books. The son, though young, is a great student who loves to learn. He tells his mother that he and his friends talk about books even during recess, and she responds with this:

Mother: Do you know that's what smart people do, smart grown-ups?

Child: I know ... talk about books.

Mother: Yeah. So that's a pretty smart thing to do to talk about a book.

Child: Hmmm mmmm.

It's a small exchange — a moment. But Li says, this drop of conversation contains a world of cultural assumptions and beliefs.

Essentially, the American mother is communicating to her son that the cause of his success in school is his intelligence. He's smart — which, Li says, is a common American view.

"The idea of intelligence is believed in the West as a cause," Li explains. "She is telling him that there is something in him, in his mind, that enables him to do what he does."

But in many Asian cultures, Li says, academic excellence isn't linked with intelligence in the same way. "It resides in what they do, but not who they are, what they're born with," she says.

She shares another conversation, this time between a Taiwanese mother and her 9-year-old son. They are talking about the piano — the boy won first place in a competition, and the mother is explaining to him why.

"You practiced and practiced with lots of energy," she tells him. "It got really hard, but you made a great effort. You insisted on practicing yourself."

"So the focus is on the process of persisting through it despite the challenges, not giving up, and that's what leads to success," Li says.

All of this matters because the way you conceptualize the act of struggling with something profoundly affects your actual behavior.

Obviously if struggle indicates weakness — a lack of intelligence — it makes you feel bad, and so you're less likely to put up with it. But if struggle indicates strength — an ability to face down the challenges that inevitably occur when you are trying to learn something — you're more willing to accept it.

And Stigler feels in the real world it is easy to see the consequences of these different interpretations of struggle.

"We did a study many years ago with first-grade students," he tells me. "We decided to go out and give the students an impossible math problem to work on, and then we would measure how long they worked on it before they gave up."

The American students "worked on it less than 30 seconds on average and then they basically looked at us and said, 'We haven't had this,' " he says.

But the Japanese students worked for the entire hour on the impossible problem. "And finally we had to stop the session because the hour was up. And then we had to debrief them and say, 'Oh, that was not a possible problem; that was an impossible problem!' and they looked at us like, 'What kind of animals are we?' " Stigler recalls.

"Think about that [kind of behavior] spread over a lifetime," he says. "That's a big difference."

Not East Versus West

This is not to imply that the Eastern way of interpreting struggle — or anything else — is better than the Western way, or vice versa. Each has its strengths and weaknesses, which both sides know. Westerns tend to worry that their kids won't be able to compete against Asian kids who excel in many areas but especially in math and science. Li says that educators from Asian countries have their own set of worries.

" 'Our children are not creative. Our children do not have individuality. They're just robots.' You hear the educators from Asian countries express that concern, a lot," she notes.

So, is it possible for one culture to adopt the beliefs of another culture if they see that culture producing better results?

Both Stigler and Li think that changing culture is hard, but that it's possible to think differently in ways that can help. "Could we change our views of learning and place more emphasis on struggle?" Stigler asks. "Yeah."

For example, Stigler says, in the Japanese classrooms that he's studied, teachers consciously design tasks that are slightly beyond the capabilities of the students they teach, so the students can actually experience struggling with something just outside their reach. Then, once the task is mastered, the teachers actively point out that the student was able to accomplish it through hard work and struggle.

"And I just think that especially in schools, we don't create enough of those experiences, and then we don't point them out clearly enough."

But we can, Stigler says.

In the meantime, he and the other psychologists doing this work say there are more differences to map — differences that allow both cultures to more clearly see who they are.

http://www.npr.org/sections/health-shots/2012/11/12/164793058/struggle-for-smarts-how-eastern-and-western-cultures-tackle-learning

Oriental Patrimony

The environment molded the history of the Middle East as well—by shaping not just the mindsets of individuals and the cultures of societies but also the political structures of states. One definitive outcome of the aridity of Middle Eastern land was infertility, and hence “the lack of surplus.”  This made it impossible for local (i.e., feudal) rulers to gain power. Instead, power was concentrated in central governments that could organize forced labor to build irrigation systems.In  addition, much of the Middle East has a “flat” topography on which “armies could march unhindered”—as the Mongol armies tragically did. As a result, even before Islam, this part of the world was ruled for millennia by powerful centralized states.

Now, compare this geopolitical structure with that of Europe, which, unlike the Middle East, was a rainy and fertile continent with plenty of regions that are “hard to conquer, easy to cultivate, and their rivers and seas provide ready trade routes.” This topography, explains Fareed Zakaria,

made possible the rise of communities of varying sizes—city-states, duchies, republics, nations, and empires. In 1500 Europe had within it more than 500 states, many no larger than a city. This variety had two wondrous effects. First, it allowed for diversity. People, ideas, art, and even technologies that were unwelcome or unnoticed in one area would often thrive in another. Second, diversity fueled constant competition between states, producing innovation and efficiency in political organization, military technology, and economic policy.

That’s how feudalism ultimately worked in favor of freedom in Europe. The fertile land produced enough revenue to allow the rise of powerful lords, who would compete with kings for power and force them to sign liberal texts such as the Magna Carta. And when Martin Luther was excommunicated by the pope, he found support from the powerful princes of Germany who could afford to disobey Rome.

But the arid and flat Middle East only produced the “semifeudalism” of the iqta system. Here the land continued to belong to the central power and was granted only temporarily to the landlord, leading the latter to “mere pillage rather than to private development of the lands granted.” The ultimate result was the hindrance of an “independent, responsible, and non-alienated feudal class”—and the hindrance of political pluralism.

In short, while the fortunate environment of Europe helped the advance of liberty, the unfortunate environment of the Middle East established what Karl Marx called “oriental despotism” and Max Weber redefined as “patrimonialism”—a system of governance in which all power flows directly from the leader.

There was nothing inherently Islamic about this authoritarian system—no wonder it also has dominated non-Islamic countries of the East, such as Russia and China. But, alas, the connection between Oriental patrimony and Islam worked in the former’s favor as it left its mark on the latter. According to Bryan S. Turner, a leading scholar on the sociology of Islam, here was the main reason why the religion took a less rationalist and creative form after its initial centuries:

It was under the patrimonial dynasties of mediaeval Islam, starting with the Abbasids, that a different culture with its attendant view of appropriate motivation which stressed discipline, obedience and imitation came to dominate Islam. With the formation of an alliance of necessity between the military and the ulama [scholars], the shari‘a as a formalized and unchanging code of life came to embody the only legitimate language of conduct. . . . It was under these conditions that Islam was to be characterized as a slavish, fatalistic religion, a religion of accommodation to patrimonial rule.

The problem was not, Turner adds, that Islam lacked something similar to the “Protestant ethic” that fostered capitalism in Europe. The urban merchants of medieval Islam, after all, “adhered to a distinctively Muslim form of rationality.” The Mutazilites (or the Murjiites), as we have seen, even extracted liberal principles from that rationalism. They just could not overcome the constraints of the Middle East.

Islam, one could say, had produced the seeds of freedom; regrettably, they just were not rooted in fertile soil.

The Torch

At some point in the history of Christianity, the rationalist view became more dominant, whereas the opposite occurred in Islam. The torch, it could even be said, passed from one to the other. While Ibn Rushd’s defense of rational faith had little impact in Islamdom, it greatly influenced St. Thomas Aquinas, whose synthesis of philosophy, science, and faith opened the way to modernity in the West. And al-Farabi’s tenth-century anticipation of a democratic government to secure the rights and freedoms of the individual certainly found its destiny in the West before anywhere else.

Pirinç Kültürü ve Asya

“Çin’de pirinç binlerce yıldır yetiştiriliyor. Pirinç yetiştirme teknikleri Doğu Asya’ya –Japonya, Kore, Singapur ve Tayvan’a– Çin’den yayılmıştır. Asya’da çiftçilerin istisnasız her yıl hep o aynı amansız, karmaşık tarım modeliyle uğraşmaları tarih kadar eskidir.

Çeltik tarlaları, bir buğday tarlası gibi “açılmaz,” “inşa edilir.” Sadece ağaçları, çalıları ve taşları temizleyip ardından tarlayı sürmezsiniz. Çeltik tarlaları dağ yamaçlarına dizi dizi taraçalar (sekiler) halinde kazılır ya da bataklık arazilerde ve nehir havzalarında dikkatle, özenle inşa edilir. Sulanması gerektiği için çeltik tarlasının çevresinde karmaşık bir suyolu sisteminin de kurulması gerekir. Kanalları en yakın su kaynağından açmak ve su akışının tam gereken miktarda bitkiye ulaşması için suyollarına kapaklar yerleştirmek gerekir.

Bu arada çeltik tarlasının zemini de sert kilden olmalıdır; yoksa su zemin tarafından emilip gidecektir. Ancak, hiç kuşkusuz, pirinç fideleri sert kile ekilemeyeceği için, kilin üzerinde kalın, yumuşak bir çamur katmanı olmalıdır. Ve kil tabaka gerektiği gibi yavaş yavaş drenaj yapacak ve aynı zamanda bitkileri en uygun biçimde suya batıracak kadar iyi tasarlanmalıdır. Pirinçlerin tekrar tekrar gübrelenmesi gerekir; bu da ayrı bir sanattır. Çiftçiler, geleneksel olarak, karışık doğal gübre, nehir balçığı, fasulye ve kenevir kombinasyonu ve “dışkı” (insan dışkısı) kullanıyordu ve dikkatli olmaları gerekiyordu, çünkü çok fazla miktarda gübre kullanmak ya da doğru miktarda olsa da gübreyi yanlış zamanda uygulamak, çok az miktarda gübre kullanmak kadar zararlı olabiliyordu.

Ekim zamanı geldiğinde, Çinli bir çiftçinin aralarından seçim yapabileceği yüzlerce farklı çeşit oluyordu; bunlardan her biri biraz farklı bir vaatle sunuluyordu; ne kadar hızlı büyüdüğü, kuraklık zamanı ne kadar iyi sonuç verdiği ya da verimsiz toprakta bile ne kadar başarılı olduğu gibi. Çiftçi verimsizlik riskiyle başa çıkmak için mevsimden mevsime farklı bir karışım oluşturabilir, tek seferde bir düzine ya da daha fazla çeşit ekebilirdi.

Çiftçi (daha doğrusu, bütün aile; çünkü pirinç tarımı bir aile faaliyetidir) tohumları özel olarak hazırlanmış bir tohum yatağına ekerdi. Birkaç hafta sonra fideler, dikkatle 15’er santimetre aralık bırakılmış sıralar halinde tarlaya nakledilebilir ve sonra özenle bakılıp büyütülürdü.

Yabani otlar gayretle, pes etmeden elle temizlenmeliydi, çünkü fideler diğer bitkiler tarafından kolayca engellenebilirdi. Bazen bütün pirinç filizlerinin tek tek bambu bir tarakla temizlenmesi, böceklerden arındırılması gerekirdi. Bütün bu süre içinde çiftçilerin su düzeylerini tekrar tekrar kontrol etmesi ve suyun yaz güneşi altında fazla ısınmadığından emin olması gerekirdi. Ve pirinçler olgunlaştığında çiftçiler bütün arkadaşlarını ve akrabalarını bir araya getirir, ürünü işbirliği ve coşku içinde olabildiğince çabuk hasat ederlerdi ki kurak kış mevsimi başlamadan önce ikinci kez ürün alınabilsin.

Güney Çin’de kahvaltı, en azından parasal gücü yetenler için, haşlanmış pirinçti; marul, bir tür sazan balığı püresi ve bambu filizi eşliğinde beyaz pirinç lapası. Öğle yemeğinde biraz daha haşlanmış pirinç yenirdi. Akşam yemeği ise “garnitürlü” pirinçten oluşurdu. Pirinç yaşamın diğer gereksinimlerini satın alabilmek için pazarda sattığınız bir şeydi. Pirinç zenginlik ve statü ölçüsüydü. Günün hemen her çalışma anını o belirlerdi. “Pirinç hayattır” diyor Güney Çin’de geleneksel bir köyü incelemiş olan antropolog Gonçalo Santos. “Pirinç olmadan hayatta kalamazsınız. Çin’in bu bölgesinde yaşamak istiyorsanız pirinciniz olmalı. Dünya onun sayesinde döner.”

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“Bir çeltik tarlasına ilişkin en çarpıcı gerçek –gidip bir çeltik tarlasının ortasında dikilmedikçe asla tam olarak anlayamayacağınız gerçek– onun büyüklüğüdür. Çeltik tarlası küçücüktür. Tipik bir çeltik tarlasının büyüklüğü bir otel odası büyüklüğündedir. Asya’da tipik bir pirinç çiftliği ise iki, üç çeltik tarlası büyüklüğündedir. Çin’de 1.500 kişilik bir köy 182 hektar toprakla tam olarak geçinebilir ki Amerika’nın orta batısında tipik bir aile çiftliği bu büyüklüktedir. Beş altı kişilik ailelerin geçimlerini iki otel odası büyüklüğündeki çiftliklerden sağladıkları bir ölçekte, tarım çarpıcı biçimde değişiklik gösteriyor.

Tarihsel olarak, Batı’da tarım “mekanik” biçimde yönlendirilir. Batı’da bir çiftçi verimini artırmak ya da daha çok ürün almak istediğinde hep daha gelişmiş ekipmana yönelmiştir ki bu da onun insan emeğinin yerine mekanik emeği getirmesine olanak tanımıştır: Harman dövme makinesi, saman balyalama makinesi, biçerdöver, traktör. Sonra bir tarla daha açmış ve dönümünü artırmıştır, çünkü artık sahip olduğu makineler onun aynı miktarda emekle daha fazla toprağı işlemesine olanak tanımıştır. Ancak Japonya’da ve Çin’de çiftçilerin ekipman satın alacak parası yoktu ve birçok durumda, kolaylıkla yeni tarlalara dönüştürülebilecek fazladan toprak da kesinlikle yoktu. Bu nedenle pirinç üreticileri ürünlerini daha akıllıca davranarak, zamanlarını daha iyi yöneterek ve daha iyi tercihler yaparak artırdılar. Antropolog Francesca Bray’in dile getirdiği gibi, pirinç tarımı “beceri odaklı”dır; yabani otları biraz daha gayretle temizlemeye, gübrelemede ustalık kazanmaya, su seviyelerini kontrol etmek için biraz daha fazla zaman harcamaya, kil tabakanın konumunu korumaya ve çeltik tarlanızın her bir santimetrekaresinden yararlanmaya hazırsanız, daha fazla ürün hasat edeceksinizdir. Tarih boyunca, pirinç yetiştiren insanların her zaman neredeyse diğer her tür çiftçiden daha fazla çalışmış olmalarına şaşırmamak gerek.”

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“Bununla birlikte, pirinç yetiştiren bir çiftçinin yaşamını kurtaran şey yaptığı işin doğasıydı. New York’ta göçmen Musevilerin yaptığı giysi işine çok benziyordu. Anlamlıydı. Her şeyden önce, pirinç üretiminde çaba ile ödül arasında belirgin bir ilişki vardır. Pirinç tarlasında ne kadar çok çalışırsanız, o kadar çok ürün alırsınız. İkincisi, karmaşık bir iştir. Pirinç üreticisi ilkbaharda ekim, sonbaharda ise hasat yapmakla kalmaz. Bir küçük işletmeyi etkin bir biçimde yönetmek durumundadır; ailedeki işgücünü yönlendirir, tohum seçerek belirsizlikleri ortadan kaldırır, gelişmiş bir sulama sistemi kurup bu sistemi yönetir ve ilk ürünü hasat ederken aynı zamanda ikinci ürüne hazırlık yapmak gibi karmaşık bir süreci koordine eder.

En önemlisiyse, bu iş otonomi içerir. Avrupalı köylüler zorunlu olarak aristokrat toprak sahiplerinin düşük ücretli köleleri olarak çalıştı, kendi yazgıları üzerinde çok az kontrole sahipti. Oysa Çin ve Japonya hiçbir zaman bu tür baskıcı bir feodal sistem geliştirmedi, çünkü bir pirinç ekonomisinde feodalizm kesinlikle işlemez. Pirinç yetiştirmek, çiftçilerin her sabah tarlalara gitmeye itildiği ve zorlandığı bir sistem için fazla karmaşık ve inceliklidir. On dördüncü ve on beşinci yüzyılda orta ve Güney Çin’deki toprak sahipleri kiracılarıyla olan ilişkilerinde onlara neredeyse hiç karışmazdı, belli bir kira bedeli alır ve çiftçileri kendi işleriyle baş başa bırakırdı.

“Sulu pirinç tarımında, işin püf noktası sadece alışılmışın ötesinde emek gerektirmesi değil, aynı zamanda her şeyin harfi harfine yapılmak zorunda olması” diyor tarihçi Kenneth Pomerantz. “Özen göstermeniz gerekir. Suyla doldurmadan önce tarlayı mükemmel biçimde düzeltip her yerini aynı seviyeye getirmeniz gerçekten önemlidir. Düze yakın hale gelse de dümdüz olmaması alacağınız ürün açısından büyük bir fark yaratır. Suyun tarlada kaldığı sürenin tam gerektiği kadar olması gerçekten önemlidir. Fideleri tam doğru aralıklarla yerleştirmekle öylesine yerleştirmek arasında büyük bir fark vardır. Mart ortalarında mısırları toprağa ektiğinizde, ay sonunda yağmur yağması koşuluyla, hiçbir sorun yaşamamanıza benzemez. Pirinç yetiştirirken bütün girdileri çok direkt olarak kontrol edersiniz. Ve bu kadar özen gerektiren bir şey söz konusu olduğunda, derebeyinin gerçek emekçiye bir dizi teşvik sağladığı bir sistem olması gerekir; hasat iyi olduğunda çiftçi daha büyük bir pay almalıdır. İşte bu nedenle kira miktarı sabittir; toprak sahibinin, hasat ne kadar olursa olsun, ben 20 kile alırım ve sonuç gerçekten çok iyi olursa fazlası sana kalır, demesi söz konusudur. Bu kölelikle ya da ücretli işçilikle yürümeyen bir üründür. Sulama kanallarını kontrol eden kapağı birkaç saniye fazla açık tutmak çok kolaydır ve tarlanız mahvolur.”

Tarihçi David Arkush Rusların köylü atasözleriyle Çinlilerin köylü atasözlerini karşılaştırmıştır ve farklılıklar çok çarpıcıdır. Tipik bir Rus atasözü “Tanrı getirmezse, toprak vermez” der. Burada köylülerin kendi çabalarının yeterli olacağına inanmak için hiçbir nedenlerinin olmadığı, baskıcı feodal sisteme özgü tipik kadercilik ve karamsarlık söz konusudur. Diğer yanda, Arkash, Çin atasözlerinin “çalışkanlığın, zekice planlamanın, özgüvenin ve küçük bir grupla işbirliği yapmanın zaman içinde karşılığını getireceği” inancıyla dikkat çektiğini yazıyor.

İşte beş parasız Çinli köylülerin çeltik tarlalarının kavuran sıcaklığı ve rutubetinde yılda üç bin saat çalışırken birbirlerine söyledikleri birkaç şey (bu arada, bu tarlalar sülüklerle doludur):

“Kan ter olmadan yemek olmaz.”

“Çiftçiler meşgul; çiftçiler meşgul; çiftçiler meşgul olmasaydı kışı geçirecek tahıl nereden gelirdi?”

“Tembel adam kışın donarak ölür.”

“Yiyecek için Tanrı’ya değil, yükü taşıyan iki eline güven.”

“Ürün istemenin yararı yok, her şey çok çalışmaya ve gübreye bağlı.”

“Eğer bir adam çok çalışırsa, toprak da tembellik etmeyecektir.”

Ve hepsinden daha çok şey anlatan şu söz: “Yılda 360 gün yataktan güneş doğmadan önce kalkabilen hiç kimse ailesini zengin etmekte başarısız olmaz.” Güneş doğmadan önce kalkmak? Yılda 360 gün? !Kung rahat rahat, telaşsızca mongongo toplarken, Fransız köylü kışı uyuyarak geçirirken ya da pirinç yetiştiriciliği dünyası dışındaki herhangi biri bir başka şey yaparken, bu atasözü akıllarına bile gelmez.

Hiç kuşkusuz, bu Asya kültürüne ilişkin alışılmadık bir gözlem değil. Batı’da hangi üniversite kampüsüne giderseniz gidin, Asyalı öğrenciler, diğer herkes çıktıktan uzun saatler sonra bile kütüphanede kalmakla ünlüdür. Asya kökenli insanlar, kültürleri böyle tanımlandığında bazen alınırlar, çünkü bu stereotipin bir tür küçümseme olarak kullanıldığını düşünürler. Oysa çalışma inancı güzel bir şey olsa gerek. Bu kitapta şu ana kadar gördüğümüz hemen her başarı hikayesi, emsallerinden ya da akranlarından daha çok çalışan bir kişi ya da grupla ilgili. Bill Gates küçükken bilgisayar bağımlısıydı. Bill Joy da öyle. Beatles Hamburg’da binlerce saat pratik yaptı. Joe Flom, eline bir şans geçene kadar, yıllarca canını dişine takarak çalıştı, şirketleri ele geçirme sanatını mükemmel hale getirdi. Başarılı insanların yaptığı şey gerçekten çok çalışmaktır ve çeltik tarlalarında yaratılan kültürün tipik özelliği, çok çalışmanın bu tarlalarda çalışan insanlara, büyük bir belirsizlik ve yoksulluğun ortasında anlam bulmanın bir yolunu sağlamış olmasıdır. Bu ders Asyalılara birçok çabalarında yarar sağlamıştır, ancak sağlanan yarar nadiren matematikteki kadar mükemmel olmuştur.”