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Revolutions in the City and the Desert

Remember Cairo?  It seems so long ago.  What was a leap into the future has already become something retreating into the past.  Back then, however, even the dark times were bright.

This image of the city ablaze with both fire and electric light may have seemed a moment more of crisis than of hope.  The lights are signs of the incredible concentration and vitality of the protests, yet they are surrounded by deep shadows, as if the forces of darkness were gathering their infernal legions ready to engulf and devour those massed together in Tahrir Square.  Today we know better, of course.  If the democratic revolution is to be betrayed–a distinct possibility–that will occur through gradual processes of corporate cronyism and bureaucratic inertia.  In the meantime, however, we can yet marvel at how the city was a vital center of human aspiration and activity.   And how the revolution was an unleashing of social energy and productive power.

One reason that seems so long ago is that the Libyan revolution is much more dispersed, ragged, violent, and wasteful.  Instead of the people massing in the capitol, we see insurgent soldiers walking along desert highways.  Instead of high-tech interconnectivity in the urban core, we see one isolated scene after another from a vast landscape that always appears desolate.  In place of an army that wisely assumed the role of referee between the regime and the people, we have a civil war.  And instead of people going back to work while also throwing themselves into electoral campaigning and other reforms, we have refugees.

These men are waiting in line for food at a camp at the Tunisia-Libyan border.  We see men in a line, not The People.  An empty space at the center, but no public square.  And instead of energy and hope, worry and the heaviness of those who know that their survival depends on vulnerably waiting, waiting, waiting with no assurance that they will ever get what they need.

There are good reasons to be drawn to the spectacle of history in the making, but this much less dramatic image is at least as representative of the political realities of our time.  The line in the photograph seems to stretch endlessly, as well it could: there are roughly 40,000,000 refugees and other displaced persons in the world, most of them the victims of war.  That figures includes everything from those fleeing today to second-generation residents of now permanent “camps,” and so this photo does not tell the full story.  But it shows some of the truth of that story: on a planet with room for all, millions are homeless, and in a world that includes marvelous monuments to human productivity, many human beings are forced to waste much of their lives by standing in line, sitting by tents, and otherwise living in suspended animation not of their own making.

Images of human beings being being forced to do next to nothing may seem to be dull pictures, but they remind us that human beings create both cities and deserts.  It remains to be seen which will outpace the other in the 21st century, or if there is anything like a middle way in a world of increasing inequity and polarization.

Photographs by Peter Macdiarmid/Getty Images and Emilio Morenatti/Associated Press.

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A Late Modern Crusade

This photograph reminded me of Private Jackson, the sharpshooter in the movie Saving Private Ryan who takes strength and solace by prefacing each kill, executed with surgical precision, by reciting scripture from the Hebrew Bible and the New Testament.  In one scene near the end of the movie he cites from Psalms, 25:2, “Let me be not ashamed, let my enemies try not to fool me.”  It is not enough to save him, but the point is made as he dies a martyr to the cause of the “good war.”  Or at least that is how World War II and those fighting for the allies are  remembered.

The marine in the photograph above is fighting the war in Afghanistan—“Operation Enduring Freedom,” the longest war in U.S. history—and it is hard to know exactly how it will be remembered in the next century.  But there is an important distinction between it and WW II that the photograph here elides and underscores at the same time.  The allied troops fighting in the European theater of WW II may have taken comfort in identifying with a Christian god, but their “enemies” no doubt prayed to the same god, however misdirected they were. This soldier, however, is part of a predominantly American—and yes, implicitly Christian—military force occupying a thoroughly and explicitly Muslim nation.  And however else we might justify U.S. military presence in Afghanistan, there is no getting around the fact that it was initially characterized as a crusade and continues to bear the earmarks of a holy war; and  surely that is how the indigenous, Muslim population might reasonably be inclined to interpret it when official military weapons and other accouterments such as helmets continue to bear the visible signs of a crusade.

To the extent that the War in Afghanistan is a war on terror its success or failure will turn in no small measure on winning “hearts and minds” throughout the Muslim world.  It is hard to imagine how displays such as this can serve a productive end.  But more, it should give us all just a little bit of pause to wonder what it is that truly animates our persistence in a war that seems to know no end.

Photo Credit: Adek Berry/AFP/Getty Images.

Cross-posted at BAGnewsNotes.

 

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Sight Gag: A War By Any Other Name …

Credit: Mr. Fish

Sight Gags” is our weekly nod to the ironic, satiric, parodic, and carnivalesque performances that are an important part of a vibrant democratic public culture.  These “gags” may not always be funny or represent a familiar point of view, but they attempt to cut through the lies, hypocrisy, shamelessness, stupidity, complacency, and other vices of democratic life.  We typically will not comment beyond offering an identifying label, leaving the images to “speak” for themselves as much as possible.  Of course, we invite you to comment … and to send us images that you think might deserve a laugh or at least a wry and rueful look.

 

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Fox News Research Team Develops New Life Form

Scientists at a Fox News lab known as the “weasel works” were giving each other high fives yesterday on receiving decisive confirmation that they had created a new life form.  After years of research involving genetic recombination of primitive cellular memes, a research team successfully created the laboratory conditions for the emergence of life.  In doing so, Research Group Alpha beat out several other teams in a race to the bottom of the gene pool.  “We knew that the breakthrough would come to whoever could isolate the most simple forms of cellular response,” lab director Gene Shelley remarked, “and that has been the Fox News objective from day one.”

Shelley emphasized that the new species was fully formed.  “Since evolution wasn’t involved, the designers are confident that the species will continue to exhibit its initial characteristics in perpetuity.”  Those characteristics are admittedly not found at the high end of the food chain, but they are likely to have considerable survival value.  The creature remains suspended in a state of continuous consumption, moves in whatever direction it is manipulated, bonds exclusively with its information source, and never risks cooperative behavior.

Fox News was quick to point out the implications of this scientific breakthrough.  “We know that this isn’t the first case of successful biological invention,” PR director Mary Shelley remarked, “but it is the first one that has obvious political significance.  Our lab has finally produced what the network only dreams of: the perfect citizen.”

Photograph by Rolf Vennenbernd/DPA/ZUMAPRESS.com.

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Turning Off the Lights to See

Despite their routine, conventional, ritualized, and otherwise predictable nature, public media can mash up different topics with an ease that should make novelists growl with envy.  Editorial cartoonists make the most of this everyday opportunity, but it pops up all over the place: politicians’ metaphors, athletes’ analogies, advertiser’s corny TV ads, and often enough a deft comparison in a letter to the editor.  I’m not immune to temptation, either, and so today it’s time to talk about both Earth Hour and Stanley Fish.

No, that’s not Stanley, although I’m sure he wouldn’t mind having his statue overlooking a major city.  This statue is labeled Christ the Redeemer and overlooks Rio de Janeiro.  Very famous, dare we say iconic, and certainly one of the signature monuments that many cities now try to erect in order to brand themselves visually to attract tourism and other business.  And so it becomes easy to say that it is both a religious and a cultural symbol, and perhaps more cultural than religious.

And that’s where Fish comes in.  On Monday he posted on a peculiar decision by the European Court of Human Rights which ruled that Italy could place crucifixes in public schoolrooms because the cross is not primarily a religious symbol.  You can read Fish’s account of the opinion, and the opinion itself, but I’m not really concerned about either.  What is interesting is the debate about when a symbol should be seen as more parochial or more general, as something dedicated to a specific group or something in common circulation, as exclusionary or assimilated.  Examples include everything from the Confederate Flag–which I would prefer to see as a sign of treason, but few seem to concur–to “In God We Trust” and other bits of civil religion.

And that’s where Earth Hour can help.  On Saturday night, March 26, thousands of organizations and individuals around the world turned off their lights (well, most of them) for an hour to symbolize support for energy conversation.  (I was in Paris when the Eiffel Tower went dark.  The experience did not strengthen my commitment to sustainable energy.)  This week The Big Picture has put up a gallery of before and during photos.  The comparisons, and the digital mechanism for making them, are interesting, but one pairing goes further.

Incredible, isn’t it?  One could almost title it “Christ, Prince of Darkness.”  The city looks like Hell, glowing embers of eternal misery from which rises an awful miasma of vapors, while darkness surrounds everything, shrouding all hope.  Or not: perhaps some will see a real Christ, and one who offers not salvation but rather compassion, not escape but rather God’s presence amidst the suffering.  And one who may be present only because he has agreed to be powerless.

Now go back to the first photograph.  I see only kitsch: it might as well be in a snow globe.  The official, illuminated symbol has no religious depth.  How could it?  That doesn’t mean that it won’t be exceedingly meaningful when seen by some believers, especially for the first time.  But those responses are drowned in the sea of indifference–or, better, obliterated in the bright lights and endless repetition of civic branding.  When illuminated, it is reduced (although not completely) to being a cultural symbol.  Only when the lights are turned off, for a moment not to be repeated for a year, can religious meaning come to the fore.  How do we know?  Because only then are we confronted with our finitude, our fatality, and the dim prospects for achieving heaven on earth.  Come to think of it, not a bad message for Earth Hour.

Photographs by Felipe Dana/Associated Press.

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Meltdown at NCN

 

Sorry, but we don’t have a regular post for today due to a bad combination of connectivity problems at one end and jet lag at the other.  If we were a high-tech industrial corporation, we’d blame it on unspecified “human error.”  If we were Fox News, we’d say it was Obama’s fault.  If we were the Japanese government, we would assure you that everything was under control.  But we are who we are, so we’ll let it be what it is: another sign of the impending collapse of civilization as we know it.  Have a nice day.

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What Are Unions Good For?

There has been a good deal of talk recently about the public value of unions, much of it framed in the euphemistic language of “right to work” laws and the alleged unfairness of “collective bargaining.”  There is probably something to be said about how unions have occasionally exploited the power of collective bargaining in ways that may not always be in the public interest, but as Hariman pointed out recently, corporations are no less collective bargaining agents representing the special interests of owners and shareholders.  And so it hardly seems reasonable to single out unions as singularly or generically problematic in this regard.  But since we are approaching the 100th anniversary of the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire, there might be a different point worth making.

The Triangle Shirtwaist Factory (TSF) was on the 8th-10th floors of the Asch Building near Manhattan’s Washington Square.  The TSF was what we would today call a sweatshop and the working conditions were oppressive.  The vast majority of the 500 employees were teenage girls, most of them recent immigrants who spoke little or no English.  At 4:45 p.m. on March 25th, just short of quitting time, a fire broke out and spread quickly.  There were two descending stairwells, but one was quickly blocked by flames and the second was locked to avoid theft.  Some packed themselves onto the sole working fire escape which quickly collapsed under the extreme weight (and in any case apparently led nowhere), others jumped down an elevator shaft or made their way to the roof of the building only to jump to their death 135 feet below.  When all was said and done 148 people—129 women and 19 men—were dead.  The owners were indicted on charges of manslaughter, but subsequently acquitted.  Two years later they lost a civil suit which compensated each family $75.00 for the loss of their loved one.  The owners were compensated by their insurance company in excess of their reported losses and in the amount of $400 per death.

The final cause of the fire was never determined, but what the photographic record made palpably clear (here, here, and here) was that the health and safety conditions of the TSF were wholly inadequate.  And this was doubly tragic since groups like the International Ladies Garment Workers Union and the Women’s Trade Union League had been advocating for better working conditions and protective safety legislation for several years. Following this tragedy they redoubled their efforts in both lobbying for reforms and monitoring the safety conditions within the garment industry.  Things did not change immediately, as industry leaders continued to argue that stringent safety codes would wipe them out of business—an argument that seems to persist in contemporary times—but it is hard to imagine that without the efforts of union organizations that things would have changed very much … or at all.

As we debate the value of unions in the days and weeks ahead we are well advised to recall the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire and the need that workers have for a collective voice in representing their interests, particularly in the face of efforts to castigate unions as little more than selfish, greedy operations.  And to the extent that any of that interest speaks to questions of health and safety we need to recognize the especially important watchdog, public interest that is being served.

Photo Credit: Brown Brothers/Kheel Center

Update:  The NYT “City Room” is remembering the Triangle Shirtwaist Fire this week.  Thanks to NCN friend Jim Johnson for bringing this to our attention.

Update: Cross-posted at BAGnewsNotes.

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Visualizing Magnitude 9.0

The human mind has the amazing capacity to calculate magnitudes far beyond the scale of ordinary experience.  We can speak of the size of the earth or the galaxy or the universe, using terms such as “light years” as if we had lived through them regularly, or discuss whether the earth is 4.5 or 4.54 billion years old as if we might have there for the birthday parties.  We can “scale” up with ease, whether increasing a recipe or clicking on the magnitude button at Google Maps.  One result is that it is easy to forget how much distortion is occurring when we do so.  Our knowledge of magnitudes comes at a price: we forget how much distance or time or damage is actually involved.   Indeed, we are more likely to grieve for one death than 100,000.  So, magnitude, particularly when talking about human experience, can prove to be a difficult matter: something that can lead to serious distortions in sympathy, knowledge, and response when trying to deal with disasters and other large scale events.

One consequence is that people need to imagine magnitude: they need to draw on their imaginations to fill in the abstraction created by large numbers.  This imaginative representation of events is particularly important for collective action on behalf of the general welfare–which is the key to human success as a species.  That is, an ability to imagine the magnitude of a catastrophe can ensure effective collaboration in response to present emergencies and guide precautionary measures on behalf of a better future.  But large magnitudes are, by definition, difficult to see.  I can use a world map precisely because I don’t see the actual size of the earth.  Managing scale requires abstraction, not visualization.

Fortunately, we have visual arts that we use for just this reason (among others).  The photographer or designer can show us the world in a way that emphasizes magnitude in order to counter our habitual abstraction and its emotional and thus social consequences.  The public image is an aid to public imagination, one that can help us move beyond merely seeing the localized effects of what happened where and when.  The challenge is to show us that and more: to engage the imagination in a manner that fills in the gap between particularity and abstraction, between the collapsed house and numerical measures of causal forces.  And by bridging that gap, the public image helps us cross the space between one person and another person, one group and another group, one nation and another nation.

Everything depends on it.  By seeing ourselves in respect to the large-scale forces shaping our lives, we can begin to recognize our common vulnerability.  From there, perhaps we can understand that humanity succeeds or fails as people learn to work and live together across the distances that only seem to separate them.

Notes: Photograph of shipping containers in Sindai by Itsuo Inouye/Associated Press; computer simulation image of the tsunami by the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration; whole earth photograph by the crew of Apollo 17 for the National Aeronautics and Space Administration.

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Sight Gag: What Fiscal Responsibility Looks Like

Proposed Republican Budget Cuts (and How to Pay for Them)

Credit: greywolfe359

Sight Gags” is our weekly nod to the ironic, satiric, parodic, and carnivalesque performances that are an important part of a vibrant democratic public culture.  These “gags” may not always be funny or represent a familiar point of view, but they attempt to cut through the lies, hypocrisy, shamelessness, stupidity, complacency, and other vices of democratic life.  We typically will not comment beyond offering an identifying label, leaving the images to “speak” for themselves as much as possible.  Of course, we invite you to comment … and to send us images that you think might deserve a laugh or at least a wry and rueful look.

 

 1 Comment