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Hamilton first argues against the popular theory–originating in Montesquieu–that the colonies’ size precludes effective republican government. In lesser known writings, Montesquieu had promoted the “confederate republic” as an effective remedy to this defect. Municipalities and states cede certain powers while retaining the authority to nominate legislative and judicial representatives. Thus local governments secure a measure of sovereignty while acquiring ownership in the national “assemblage of societies.” Particular manifestations differ only in the degree of federalism, which remains a matter of discretion. Distinctions between the Union and Montesquieu’s grand society appear “more subtle than accurate.”
In No. 10, Madison continues the same disquisition, analyzing the efficacy of such a system in a liberal society. “Among the numerous advantages promised by a well-constructed union” he begins, “none deserves to be more accurately developed than its tendency to break and control the violence of faction.” He describes a faction as follows:
A number of citizens, whether amounting to a majority or a minority of the whole, who are united and actuated by some common impulse of passion…adverse to the rights of other citizens, or to the permanent and aggregate interests of the community.
Madison defines such a group in the negative, but for the purposes of my inquiry this distinction need not apply.
Factions appear because of the diversity of human faculties. Different creeds, preferences, and tendencies form an ideological brew that can become volatile, impeding the operation of civil society. Governments may prosecute two strategies to winnow the more subversive strains. First, they can remove the liberty that is “essential to its [faction’s] existence.” Madison immediately concludes that this solution is worse than the disease. Second, the authorities may enforce a homogeneous set of opinions, passions, and interests. This primitive yet effective approach has appealed to many tyrants. Mao’s cultural crusade during the 1960s comes to mind as a dramatic example. Neither strategy appeals to an enlightened electorate.
One idea predominates the new system: “The protection of the faculties is the first object of government.” A third, more difficult, solution thus exists to the problem of faction: the regulation of competing interests. Since a government cannot remove–nor should it–the causes of faction, “relief is only to be sought in the means of controlling its effects.” The Constitution’s authors considered several systems before arriving at a tenable solution.
Pure democracies have several fatal flaws, most obviously an inability to scale. Also, a majority tends to seize and consolidate power in a pure democracy. The U.S. government’s mechanisms for coping with such a tendency were apparent most recently in the 2000 election. A republican government can emasculate rogue movements through objective means, for “the influence of factious leaders may kindle a flame within their particular states but will be unable to spread a general conflagration through the other states.” Indeed, the infant government quelled both the Shays’ and Whiskey Rebellions before those provincial “conflagrations” infected other communities.
Hamilton and Madison, although later violently disagreeing on the degree of federalism necessary to maintain order, insisted upon liberty as a precondition for prosperity and harmony. This protracted examination is not meant as a Anglo-centric panegyric. Instead, it demonstrates the merits of a redundant system that arbitrates in a relatively decentralized way between competing interests. Consider the critical academic review process as another example. A cursory examination of this system reveals important similarities, although I will not do the manifold intellectual labor here to qualify such a comparison. The journal/review cycle quickly discards misbegotton theories before they propogate. The transparency inherent in such a system, though, hastens the spread of fruitful ideas.
We thus see that in general, liberty is a healthy thing. I further submit that if America’s–and later the West’s–central idea is liberty, then the Middle East’s is Islam (insofar as we can make such a broad statement). At issue is the specific character of such an ideological–I use that term out for convenience, not precision–hegemony and its consequences. Why do Muslim countries almost uniformly regulate the press (Al Jazeera serving as the notable exception)? Why do they still require radio stations to play REO Speedwagon and Styx? Why are fair general elections still such an exotic species? My next piece will examine the political character of Islam and its local effects.
Not much news to report this week. I ran an awful half-marathon Friday morning; thankfully I still have a few weeks before Dubai.
Bradford made some excellent comments in a recent email:
As of now (your Nov 3 post) your deepest shared observations have been about your experience in a new place, but that new place is undefined. Like any analytical problem solver, you have reduced UAE to the lowest common denominator of a foreign environment in order to discuss the psychology of being there. When you are comfortable with those adjustments, allow yourself to move quickly to asking how the specific nature of this Arabian experience will affect you, not as a foreign place for conversation fodder, but as a specific place where you are immersed.
In response, I’ve started a short piece about the intersection between Islam and politics. Certainly shelves upon shelves in the library contain critical work on this subject. Instead, I intend to write from a local perspective. My observations will come from conversations, the newspapers, and the general nature of my daily life here. Hopefully I can find a balance between my Western education and the Arab perspective. I thought of waiting to post the entire thing, but I’d like some commentary as I go along.
The Economist has printed a related article this week.
Bradford sent a helpful email last week in which he suggested that I attempt a more synthetic understanding of my experience here. He correctly observed that I have thus far reduced the environment to the “least common denominator.” While my method has been disorganized and informal, to an extent this judgement is correct. Maybe that’s why I’m such a perpetual drag! At any rate, given President Bush’s recent campaign to spread the idea of democracy throughout this region, I present here some disorganized notes on the tractability of such rhetoric. I have considered the import of Islam as a political force since my arrival, but have yet to articulate these observations. Note that I usually reserve armchair philosophy for my journal, so I am unsure of the quality of this little bit.
This experience has altered my opinion on the balance between church and state. This debate has grown insipid in America. One side rightly contends that the phrase “separation of church and state” did not appear until much later, and only then in Jefferson’s personal correspondence (around 1802, I believe). At the Constitution’s ratification, about 97% of the country professed faith in Christ, with Jews and a small smattering of other religions composing the rest. The Decalogue seems implicit in American law, hence its display in courthouses across the country. Some thus suggest that the American system drew inspiration from the Christian, namely Protestant, movement.
Others counter with an appeal to the non-establishment clause: “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof.” This ammendment resulted from perceived deficiencies in the English system, primarily the government’s abuse of the church. Statement’s like “In God We Trust” thus seem as approbation of a certain creed instead of a simple acknowledgement of a “higher power.” Further, a republican government empowers the populace to modify their government as they see fit. If a majority now desires to shed any acknowledgement of God, then it has that civil right. America is now engaged in such a project.
Now I have tended toward the latter side, for I believe, with Locke, that government finds its provenience and authority in man, and man locates his origin with God. It is quite impossible to separate religion and politics; the intersection points between the two compel the most incendiary debates. The true nature of religion–either a strictly psychological phenomenon or a legitimate force–seems irrelevant. The simple observation that it has existed in every culture, at every time, and in every place renders religion as a subject worthy of the utmost consideration, particularly in the political life.
The founding fathers rightly insisted on a system that balanced competing forces and ideas, one of which was religion. They recognized that liberty exacerbates dissension, for “liberty is to faction what air is to fire.” Liberty, it seems to me, has become the central idea of the West, politically, scientifically, and now morally. The system that was born during the abstract theorizing of the Enlightenment, found traction in America, moved (tragically) through France, and later throughout the Western world has become a sort of template for prosperity. If such a generalization seems permissable, then I further submit that the Middle East’s central idea is Islam, which makes little distinction between religion and the state: they are usually one. The Arab world must now decide how it will associate with the West and vice versa; the effects of such calculations are apparent in the newspaper.
My current opinion then is that the Western system is preferable to theocracy. Such an observation seems apparant in the West, but not here. Bradford encouraged me to see this place not as a foreigner, but as a indigenous citizen. I once heard Lamin Sanneh comment that the installation of a secular, republican system in the Middle East (namely Iraq) is a disastrous prescription. Without a popular mandate, he is correct. Arab governments are now grappling with whether such a mandate exists, but moreover whether it is permissable and benefical. As I thought more about these issues, I recalled The Federalist Nos. 9 and 10. A review of the argument made there is instructive.
Please read this fine article about chemical weapons use in the Middle East. The account, while academic, provides a factual perspective on the events preceding the 2003 campaign. Note the importance of Saddam’s need to “save face” with his Arab peers. Nothing could be more characteristic of Arab men.
I have three weeks of leave for Christmas and have decided to stop through Washington before returning to Atlanta. My flight arrives at Dulles on Dec. 11 around 2:30; I leave from BWI the following afternoon. I’ll be in Atlanta until Jan. 2.
Nothing remarkable has occurred over the past week, so I will examine several of the misbegotten conceptions that I’ve held during my first three months here. Many people studied abroad during college; I did not have or want that experience. I recall the attitudes, which ranged from the supercilious to the relieved, adopted by these peers returning from overseas. One person in particular remarked how mature he had become. At the time, I resented such nonsense. Remarkably, I have observed the development of similar notions in my own life here, much to my horror. Consistent with my penchant for theory and refutation, I list below several items of interest. Prior to returning home next month, I hope to have suitably adjusted my outlook.
1) “I’m having a unique experience” or “I am a different person because of this experience.”
Right. It’s easy to have a myopic view of an overseas experience. The magnitude of adjustments necessary to live even the most ordinary life seems to imply some measure of uniqueness. During the first few weeks here, I naively thought that no one else had trouble using the phone or sleeping through the call to prayer or buying fish at the store. As I met more people here, though, I realized that we all at one point dealt with these issues. As a corollary, I might add that the average Arab engages in the same sort of mundane activities as his American counterpart. Disregarding cultural and religious differences, Arabs go to work (usually), stand in line at the grocery store, and talk about the weather in uncomfortable situations. I have not met a person yet who has demonstrated anything but disdain for terrorism or Islamic extremism. One could claim a selection bias that would discredit such a statement and I suppose that I have no counterargument. I heard of more anti-Western, anti-capitalist demonstrations in D.C. last year than I have here, though.
The other perception seems inadequate as well. A person’s experiences significantly impact his life, but I am unconvinced that character changes in response to time or particular events. As an analogy, I think of the horrendous modifications certain people make to Honda Civics. They add ground effects, airbrushed paint schemes, and those irritating mufflers that sound like a tracheotomy patient. The end product, while ostensibly modified, remains an economy-class Japanese compact. Instead, I think that the prudent person assesses each experience and adjusts his approach according to the observed successes and failures. This practice is much like installing a better transmission in the same Civic. The car remains unashamedly itself, but with positive improvements.
2) Attention to perceived deficiencies in mother culture.
I wrote to a friend in September about “my disenchantment with contemporary American culture,” or some such affected nonsense. Later, I made a cursory list of pros and cons that I perceived in Emirati culture. After quickly listing a few positive observations, I exhausted my supply of compliments. When I turned to criticisms, I worked diligently for a long period. Consider a few of the points:
Pros
Cons
In comparison, Americans have many reasons to count their blessings.
3) Later, attention to perceived deficiencies with local culture.
Inevitably, dinner conversation among expatriates here turns to, “Hey, guess what this Arab did today!” Then we laugh about how they can’t drive, count to ten, or limit their spending. It’s helpful to remember how we would act, at one extreme, in a similar position of wealth or, at the other, lacked even a rudimentary education. No, the Pakistanis can’t drive. Yes, the Emiratis love conspicuous consumption. If I had a nickle for every Rolls Royce, Maserati, and Porsche that I’ve seen over the last few months, I’d buy a country.
4) A false sense of enlightenment.
This feeling follows closely behind (1). Paradoxically, it often seems as if those who know least act as if they know the most. For example, after my first Arabic lesson, I was astonished at my new skills. I didn’t even know how to say, “Where’s the john?” and I thought that I was Bernard Lewis or something. Subsequent lessons, which introduced verb conjugation, tenses, and, most dauntingly, Arabic script, tempered my self-aggrandizement. The forces at work in this region would require decades of sedulous inquiry to understand. If I display any sense of authority when I return home, somebody please comment on my vanity.
5) At last, I have something to talk about in conversations with strangers.
This is a particularly personal issue. Sports once gave me a sort-of fallback topic that I could introduce into a conversation with great effect. Somehow, the line “I’m an Electrical and Computer Engineer” doesn’t elicit the same response. In fact, it’s much like bragging about a physiological defect such as hemophilia. Now I often imagine my conversations over egg nog this Christmas and how astounded everyone will be to hear that I live in the ominous Middle East. Notice here the continuity of my character: I’m still don’t function well in large social settings, despite this “life-changing” experience (see 1 above). I’m simply exchanging one crutch for another when I should learn to walk without such support. Several people here have advised not to make unsolicited references to overseas experiences, a policy that has served them well. Only when a person demonstrates interest should I comment extensively. This seems like an appropriate compromise between tasteless gushing and elitist reticence.
I do not have network access at home or work. As a result, it takes me about one week to respond to emails. I apologize for the delay. I’ve been so thankful for the notes that I’ve received over the past week, so please don’t think that I’m indifferent.
Also, I will write my observations here, but please accept them for what they are. I’ve been here for two months and am the greenest neophyte around. I have a tendency to generalize my experience to the universal, a sort of misguided a posteriori reasoning. Please shoot me down when I’m wrong or overbearing!
I’ve been away from the computer for a week, so I apologize for the late post. Last Friday I drove to Dubai with some friends. Much like visiting New York, one must have a plan before going to Dubai. It’s big, fast, and crowded. We tempered our ambition and saw only a few sites. In the morning, we attended church at DECC. The congregation celebrated the second anniversary of their building that day, so the service lasted for over two hours. Every continent (save for Antartica) was represented; the North American contingent was the smallest of all! The procession consisted of a stream of flag bearers, each raising his nation’s banner. It reminded me of the Olympics. Old Glory brought up the rear and I nearly wept as it went by. Later, Caroline noted a similar emotion: “Wasn’t it cool when the flags came by. I choked up.”
“Your flag elicited that response or all of them?”, I asked.
“I guess the whole scene. Why do you ask?”, she said.
“Because he’s American,” Andy interjected dismissively.
After church, we drove to the Burj Al Arab. I’ve never seen a more remarkable modern structure. It stands on a small peninsula by Jumeirah Beach just south of the city, but because of the flat terrain, it is visible for miles in every direction. The sand haze makes it look like a mirage, for it is so stunning that on initial observation, it seems misplaced in this desert country. Driving closer, it becomes more clear, the brilliant sunlight reflecting from the white beams and translucent blue glass. The architect (a South African, I think) fashioned it in the shape of a sail. Look at the pictures.
In the afternoon, we drove north to Sharjah, the soi-disant cultural center of the Emirates. This town has a large market known as the “Blue Souq” or “Old Souq.” I could spend days there; it’s like a Wal-Mart for random cool stuff. Iranian carpets, African ebony carvings, Ottomon swords and smoothbores, Chinese silk, porcelain, and so on. In November, I’ll go back for some Christmas shopping!
Guru sent sent some helpful questions, so I’ll answer them for everyone. The precision of a person’s questions generally indicate their intellect. No one needs a reminder, though, that Chuck T is a smart dude.
How’d you meet up with Andy and the American crew? What are their stories?
I initially met people through several groups/activites: church, work, running, and the British Club. Now I’ve met their friends, etc., which has been an blessing. I was afraid of loneliness here, but to date I have had little time for such emotions. Andy comes from the UK and has lived here for about a year. After college, he spent two years as a missionary in Lithuania. His parents work in the European evangelical community. Besides being a cool guy and a good friend, he has taught me many Britishisms, like “boot”, “faffer”, and “You’re the boy.” One day I’m going to compile a dictionary for Americans travelling to the UK. One day.
Caroline was born in Canada and teaches geography at the Shaikh Zayed girls school here. She just came to Abu Dhabi in August, having taught the previous year in Kuwait. She does weird stuff like hitchhike through western Canada by herself. We’re trying to make her more sensible. She’s an awesome cook.
I haven’t met any Americans outside of the military community. Most of the western expatriates are British or Canadian.
Al Ain very much reminded me of the badlands- is erosion the story there too?
Al Ain means “the source” in Arabic. The oasis is quite lush, but the surrounding area is rugged. A palace crowns Jebel Hefeet and the shaikhs have planted grass along the road, ostensibly for their own amusement. Their water bill must be outrageous.
When you were in Doha, did you get to see where they hosted the last round of WTO talks?
No, but I saw many advertisements for the 2006 Asian Games. The Qataris have built a tremendous building in the center of town that bears the Olympic rings. They are rapidly expanding the Doha area to show off their country next year.
Looking at the pictures, it looks like greenery (present company included) is quite a luxurious rarity. Any golf courses over there? Desalinization facilities? Natural grass?
Yes, Abu Dhabi has two courses and Dubai has several more. The greens fees are quite high, though. You must realize that money is a secondary concern here. If the Emiratis want a golf course, they built it. If they want a ski slope, they build it (just completed in Dubai, opening this month). If they want a $1 billion hotel (had dinner there last week: awesome) with unused $15,000 a night suites, who can convince them otherwise? All sorts of possibilities arise when capital flows in like its pumped from a hose.
Dubai desalinizes water to sustain its development. Spring water, though, comes from the mountains along the Omani border.
Great to hear the perspective from a man on the ground over there
regarding differentials in wealth distribution. I’ve heard that the
UAE, Baharain and Qatar are pretty capitalistically oriented- what are
the social supports they provide to folks who need it?
Price supports exist for commodities such as oil and food. I’m not aware of any developed welfare machinery. Common laborers have almost no recourse when their employers refuse to pay their wages. The Gulf News reports almost weekly of men filing complaints with the Labor Ministry that have not been paid in months. The rich live like sultans and the poor like, well, the poor. I want to expand on this topic when I have more information.
How often, if ever, do you run into local women over there?
Local women wear black abayas, so they’re hard to miss. They remain relatively absent from most settings, except for the malls. For example, I have never seen an Emirati woman in line at the KFC. In general, their dress reflects their own desires rather than that of men. Just as Gulf men wear the kandoora to say, “I am a Gulf man,” the women wear abayas to indicate their status.
Do you want us to go to Johnny Rockets and fed ex you a burger?
Yes please. Can you please enclose something with which I can fumigate it when it arrives?
What’s the weather like? How cold does it get a night?
Hot, hot. When I arrived, the temperature never dropped below 95. Today, though, its 85 with a slight breeze blowing in from the Gulf. It should stay around 70 during the “winter,” with some more dramatic temperature changes during the evening.
How are arabic classes coming? Is your goal fluency?
Well and yes. I’m no philologist, though, so I must apply myself to achieve those goals. Most people speak at least functional English here, so it’s difficult to practice.
Where do you go to church?
ECC.
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