The reason why no ideology has ever created, let alone sustained, the world it envisioned, is that by definition it could not account for unintended consequences. The same is true of more modest ventures. A war meant to be short and sweet turns out anything but. A campaign meant to steamroll the opposition clears the field of all rivals but one, the most dangerous and unexpected. Observing something alters its nature; naming it alters its meaning. If you’ve ever planned anything – a career, a vacation, a party – you know this already.
And so, when things happen – interesting things, significant things, things that surprise us and thus lead us to feel – they result only partly from deliberate action, and as much from the gremlins of serendipity, who can inhabit any of us for any period of time. Thrust into greatness, we signify; the moment passes, the world changes, we fade to obscurity.
Are you having a macaca moment yet? In 2006, desis were thrust into greatness in the person of S. R. Sidarth. Senator AllenÂ’s view of SidarthÂ’s ethnic happenstance differed so radically from that of a majority of Virginia voters, that the (near-) accident of the brother being there set in motion events leading, it is argued, to the change of power in Congress.
Macaca was about revealed perception. The perception was AllenÂ’s; but the revelation stems from Sidarth. Without Sidarth, the perception would not have been revealed. The tree might have fallen in the forest, but no one would have heard.
This is old news to us; in this community at least, weÂ’ve followed the macaca story from the start and have no disagreement as to its significance. Where we differ is in what we make of it for ourselves, the extent to which we identify with Sidarth or the fate we wish on the word macaca itself.
Old news, yes. But this weekend Sidarth was made to reappear, once more in his capacity as the embodiment of macaca, as two news outlets produced their round-up of people who mattered in 2006. Salon names Sidarth its Person of the Year. Time’s Person of the Year is You – you, the diffuse and disparate emanators of content, the users who generate that which is user-generated – and Sidarth is one of the Yous the magazine profiles.
ItÂ’s interesting to compare the interpretations that each of these outlets apply to Original Macaca. Salon, the established survivor of first-generation Web journalism, sees in him less the agent of a brave new world of representation than an embodiment of an America undergoing demographic and attitudinal change. Time, a behemoth of a pre-Internet era when The Press told The Public what to know and believe, now celebrates Sidarth as one of a non-organized army of little people upending the plans and certitudes of the great.
Both treatments have in common, however, that ultimately they are not about Sidarth – not the “real” Sidarth, biologically and spiritually unique, but what he seems through various filters. It was the year of You perceived and revealed, by your own doing and by that of others. That trend will continue, as attested by the fact that you read this blog, perhaps comment, perhaps have established an identity here and elsewhere on the Web.
We are learning that representation matters. We manage our identities lest others manage them for us; in a way the two processes are dialectically the same. What remains is spirit: mercurial, contradictory, and if we will it, potentially free.
Continue reading
Desi’s Got Back (updated!)
One upside of my relentless biz travel is airplane time to catch up on reading. Coming back from Hong Kong, I started digging into Niall Ferguson’s controversial Empire – a work previously covered on SM here. I personally find the book fascinating, well written, thoroughly researched and, dare I say, a balanced portrait of the whys, hows, and modern effects of British colonialism – warts, accomplishments, and all.
But, rather than dive into yet another post-colonial-legacy debate, I thought mutineers might be interested in one specific internal difference between the Brits in India vs. elsewhere in the empire – they had a much higher tendency to “go native” –
Until the first decades of the nineteenth century, the British in India had not the slightest notion of trying to Anglicize India and certainly not to Christianize it. On the contrary, it was the British themselves who often took pleasure in being orientalized. [Empire, pg 133]
Later chapters explore how this Prime Directive of sorts would change dramatically – in part leading to and following the Sepoy Mutiny. But, in the mean time, what explains the “orientalized” Brits? Ferguson identifies one culprit – the irresistible allure of our desi sista’s. Many a Brit discovered, apparently, that once you go brown, you stop foolin’ around–
55Friday: The “Cherub Rock” Edition
I believe in Sliding Doors.
I believe in Serendipity (though I never ventured there myself).
And yes, I believe that at least one angel watches over me. There’s no other explanation for my stupidly good luck or the consistent little miracles which always make my heart lift a little bit in my chest as my hands fly to cover my face from either shock, delight or both. I’m a girly-girl and a Christian one at that, so for me, this is a season for miracles. True to my Orthodox roots (and like a certain Uncle and Auntie in Florida who used to wear buttons pointedly declaring this fact), I believe that Jesus is the reason for the season. If I do THAT, then I have to suspend cynicism, don’t I?
:+:
7:15. Metro. Red line to Glenmont. I hear the infamous, “Doors closing!” as I’m rushing down the escalator at Tenleytown, just as fast as my Connolly-colored mukluks could take me.
I skip the last three steps but it’s too late. Six minutes to the next train. That’s not so bad– it seems better than the Orange line, anyway. Six minutes pass, I board and after Cleveland Park, we pause for no apparent reason as the operator announces “Stand by.” I roll my eyes. I just want to get home. Continue reading
Rise up and think
I donÂ’t have a nifty video-clip to embed, but this afternoon, cornered by my mother, I sat down to watch a television show that she swore was essential viewing for anyone who wanted to be a good Muslim.
“But I don’t want to be a good Muslim,” I muttered under my breath, keeping a watchful eye out for potential hurling of chappals. “And I certainly would much rather spend this time playing Final Fantasy XII.” But when I saw that Very Special Look that Mothers Have, I shut up and sat down. An hour later, I was actually rather disappointed to find that the show was over.
Meet Javed Ahmed Ghamidi, described on Wikipedia as “a well-known Pakistani Islamic scholar, exegete, and educationist”. Other than having a head of hair so thick that I’m convinced it’s capable of deflecting armour-piercing shells, the man actually impressed me. I don’t necessarily think he’s going to be storming the bastions of the unfaithful or anything, but after seeing some of the raving loonies on channels such as “QTV” (Quran TV), or “The Muslim Channel” and listening to them explain to the adoring masses that you have to have faith because if you don’t you’ll burn in Hell forever, I was taken aback to find someone with a functional brain on a mainstream TV channel.
As you may be able to imagine, in Pakistan critical analysis of any sort—particularly when it involves matters theological—is frowned upon most severely, and to find someone sitting calmly (albeit on an absolutely hideous set) on TV while happily dissecting a few dozen-odd “religious truths” is something of a mind-boggling experience, not entirely unlike being savaged by a goldfish.
I came into the programme as it was about halfway done, and so am a little bit hazy on the minutiae, but apparently some bearded guy sits on one side of a table, with this Ghamidi fellow on the other, and on the third side there’re a man and a woman who ask him what seem to be very rote-memorised questions. They’re also a bit daft, I must say—I caught myself wondering, do people REALLY sit at home wondering if they’re allowed to eat poultry that may or may not have been given a bit of meat in its feed, or laughing at the man who wondered if “it was OK to eat food caught by dogs because the dog is an unclean animal”. But Ghamidi’s approach towards answering these questions is actually very interesting, and involves a very…holistic, and common-sense approach towards religion. My favourite part was, I think, when he moaned out loud: “But all the things you’re saying, none of them are actually in the Quran! You’re using man-made rationales and reasons to justify your own cultural beliefs and customs, and that’s just WRONG. The Quran has nothing about dogs written in it, and you can’t just pick blanket phrases and apply them to things without actually thinking about it! ”
I’m interested in seeing how far this particular “reformist” movement will have an impact on popular notions of Islam, particularly in a domestic context. Half the radicals of whom I know or DO know tend to have picked up their notions from the media—I wonder if they’ll pick up the notion of moderation or critical thinking as well. I think it’s a good sign that it’s on TV, and that it apparently has a number of supporters; in particular, I find myself incapable of disliking a man who actually uses logic and rational arguments rather than reverting to tautological theology.
IÂ’m still reserving judgement though. Just in case. Continue reading
Who does and doesn’t meat eat?
I’ve long been fascinated by the demographics of vegetarianism. I’m an omnivore, but one who eats a lot less meat than my peers, so they confuse my insistence that we order a vegetable dish (when eating out family style) with an unwillingness to consume animal flesh.
In the UK, it seems that vegetarians are smarter:
… those who were vegetarian by [age] 30 had recorded five IQ points more on average at the age of 10. [Link]
Although this study is flawed by its overly broad definition of vegetarian:
Twenty years after the IQ tests were carried out in 1970, 366 of the participants said they were vegetarian – although more than 100 reported eating either fish or chicken. [Link]
Unfortunately, they don’t report adjusted scores, so really what they’re talking about here is an unwillingness to eat beef, which makes them … well, like many Hindus I know.
With the definitional caveat, in general, this is what they find about veggies:
Vegetarians were more likely to be female, to be of higher occupational social class and to have higher academic or vocational qualifications than non-vegetarians. [Link]
Researchers find something similar in India, where vegetarians are more likely to be female and of higher social status.
Vegetarianism is declining in India, to the point where vegetarians are now a minority, with only 40% of the population. This is apparently a major shift from the recent past.
The older generation remains more vegetarian than the younger, women more so than men, Brahmins more than other castes, and religious Hindus more than non-religious Hindus, Muslims, or Christians.
This is a seismic cultural shift for India. While India will remain far more veg friendly than the US or UK for a long time to come, I’m wondering about the cultural ramifications that accompany the situation where vegetarianism is associated with a narrow minority. Once upon a time, you could not get meat on the streets of Ahmedabad, now the road by IIM is lined with little 3 wheelers selling chicken.
What happens to Indian society and culture when it undergoes a fundamental shift in its eating habits? How will it change?
Rajiv Chandrasekaran Runs the Voodoo Down Too
Here’s Washington Post assistant managing editor Rajiv Chandrasekaran on the Daily Show last night. He’s talking about his new book, Imperial Life in the Emerald City, which tells the inside story of the American administration of Iraq from within the infamous Green Zone. He starts off gamely matching Jon Stewart’s banter, almost as if he were one of the show’s fake correspondents, such as Aasif Mandvi. But watch how the audience stops laughing, and Jon becomes speechless, when Rajiv starts breaking down specific stories of the lack of preparation and incompetence of the enterprise. Powerful and shocking. [Part 2 of the segment is here.] Continue reading
Absolute Borders: Partition, Pluralism, and Nationalism
Via Desipundit, I caught a link to a post by Qalandar on a recent article in the Calcutta Telegraph by Mukul Kesavan.
For those who don’t know, Mukul Kesavan is a pretty accomplished writer — the author of Looking Through Glass, and an interesting little monograph that came out a few years ago, called Secular Common-Sense.
His latest column is about the lingering consequences of the experience of Partition on the thinking of the Indian government regarding its borders. Kesavan is pointing to a kind of paradox in the constitution of the Indian state — it was founded on a principle of pluralism across religious, linguistic, ethnic, and caste differences. But once it was defined as such and those borders were consecrated, if you will, in blood during the Partition, the possibility of allowing one or another territory to secede on the basis of ethnic or religious difference became an impossibility. If you do that, the whole justification for holding the rest of the country together could potentially collapse.
Qalandar raises some questions about the rhetorical stance taken by Kesavan in his piece, and Mukul Kesavan himself actually shows up in the comments to clarify some things. In fact, it’s in the comments to the post that he gives what might be the clearest account of his position:
Pakistan claims Kashmir because as a Muslim state carved out of British India it thinks it has a right to Kashmir as a Muslim majority province. Israel, as a Jewish state, wants to annex large settler blocs of Jews on the West Bank to Israel and in return would be happy to give away bits of Israel that have concentrations of Arabs. Other nations dispute or defend territory on the ground of language. Indian nationalism refused the temptation of a single collective identity; as a result, the republic it created had no way of discriminating between borders that were negotiable and those that were written in stone. Not only were its borders were colonial and therefore arbitrary, being an ideologically pluralist state it couldn’t claim or trade away disputed borderlands going by the nature of the populations settled there. So it decided that every inch of its border was sacred and what it had, it held. (link)
It’s an interesting thesis — one could argue that it might not hold in the case of India’s claims to the Kashmir valley (too much strategic and symbolic value to ever think of letting go). But the northeastern provinces, where secessionism abounds, seem more marginal. And just to reiterate in case anyone misses it: Kesavan isn’t saying that India should just let go of any territory (indeed, he comes out pretty clearly as saying it shouldn’t). Rather, Kesavan is trying to explain why India has held on — and will continue to hold on — so tenaciously.
There’s more to it, but I think I’ll leave it to readers to explore some of the other interesting points made in this discussion, by Qalandar, Mukul Kesavan, and Nitin Pai. Continue reading
50 Hours until the D.C. Holiday Meetup
“This is Rasika, who were you holding for…”
“Hi, my name is Anna– I had reservations for this Saturday which I was just discussing with–“
“Ah yes, for 10:30 pm.”
“Well, I was told that it would be closer to ten and that we could do drinks in the lounge for an hour before.”
“A group of ten? You may try, but I don’t think that will be possible–”
“But the hostess just suggested that very course of action, since the lounge empties around then–“
“I can’t hold any tables in the lounge for your party.”
“I didn’t ask you to, I’m sure we’ll be fine there, at that hour.”
“No, I don’t think so, I’m sorry.”
“What do you mean ‘no’?”
“It’s a Saturday evening, it will be very busy, very full.”
“Okay…FINE. I guess we’ll try our luck and just look forward to dinner, which again, I thought was at ten.”
“Madame, I will have to push two tables together. It will take time. I cannot seat you until 10:30, I have to use two tables.”
“Oh…well, would it help if it was just a party of eight? Some of my RSVPs weren’t firm…”
“Is it a party of ten or a party of eight?” Continue reading
Sudhir Venkatesh Runs the Voodoo Down
“The Wire meets academia” is how Slate describes Off the Books: The Underground Economy of the Urban Poor, the fascinating new book by Sudhir Alladi Venkatesh. Here’s Emily Bazelon’s summary:
Venkatesh, who is now a professor of sociology and African-American studies at Columbia, spent 1995 to 2003 following the money in 10 square blocks of the Chicago ghetto. He finds an intricate underground web. In it are dealers and prostitutes—and also pastors who take their money, nannies who don’t report income, unlicensed cab drivers, off-the-books car mechanics, purveyors of home-cooked soul food, and homeless men paid to sleep outside stores. Venkatesh’s insight is that the neighborhood doesn’t divide between “decent” and “street”—almost everyone has a foot in both worlds.
Readers of Freakonomics will remember Venkatesh as the University of Chicago graduate student whose fieldwork in the ghetto led him to realize why, for instance, drug dealers still live with their mothers. But his really important previous credit is his first book, American Project (2000), which intricately described the life within, and the social and physical disintegration of, several large blocks of South Side housing projects. Like Mitchell Duneier’s Sidewalk (1999), which investigated the social and economic life of the brothers who sell used books and miscellany on Sixth Avenue in Greenwich Village, Venkatesh’s projects are urban sociology of the most compelling type, and well written to boot.
Yesterday Sudhir was on the Brian Lehrer show on WNYC [disclosure: I work for WNYC] and you can hear the conversation, punctuated by some interesting listener calls, here. But all y’all macacas might also enjoy taking a look at the prologue and first chapter of the book, which Harvard University Press makes available on its website. Here’s a quick excerpt from the prologue that points out, among other things, a desi angle: Continue reading
Capitalism: Gujus vs. Bengalis
Prashant points us at yet another interesting, Desi economic history piece by Gautam Bastian. In it, Gautam quotes a provocative Telegraph OpEd that discusses a surprising diversity in the Desi Intellegentsia’s attitudes towards the market. Instead of the uniform, Pavlovian rejection Uncle Milt experienced, the Telegraph’s Ramachandra Guha points at a specific braindrain of Guju econ knowledge –
Back in the Sixties, it used to be said that India’s most successful export were economists. Our economy was resolutely insulated from the rest of the world, but our economists occupied high posts in famous universities in Europe and America. Later, the joke was amended to say that the reason India’s economy was mediocre was because its economists were world-class. No South Korean was a professor of political economy at Cambridge; no Malaysian had been awarded the Nobel Prize. But their economies grew at an impressive 8 per cent, whereas ours stayed stuck at 3.5 per cent, also known as the “Hindu” rate of growth.My own theory about Indian economists is more specific and hopefully less facetious. It runs as follows; Gujarati economists place faith in the market, while Bengali economists are prone to trust the state. In the Fifties, when P.C. Mahalonobis drafted the Soviet-inspired second five year plan, A.D. Shroff responded by starting the Forum of Free Enterprise. In the Sixties and the Seventies, about the only economist of pedigree advocating Indian integration with the world economy was the Gujarati, Jagdish Bhagwati. He was opposed by an array of Marxists, many of whom (naturally) were Bengali.
As Gautam notes, several prominent thinkers have attacked the the broad question of “if intellectuals are so smart, how come so many have been so wrong about markets?” (Heck, little old me, in my blogging youth tried to add on to Nozick). But by slicing and dicing across socio-cultural lines within India, Guha takes the question in a different direction. While I’d heard the stereotype of Bengali Marxists (keep in mind that my homestate – Kerala – has its fair share as well) I wasn’t aware that Guju’s were responsible for the counter pole. Biz friendly Gujus, eh? I suppose many stereotypes start with a grain of truth somewhere….
