The Shame Culture of islam
The Arab world is suffering a crisis of humiliation.
Their armies are routed not only by Americans, but also by tiny, Jewish Israel; and as Arthur Koestler once remarked, the Arab world has not, in the last 500 years or so, produced much besides rugs, dirty postcards, elaborations on the belly-dance esthetic (and, of course, some innovative terrorist practices). They have no science to speak of, no art, hardly any industry save oil, very little literature, and portentous music which consists largely of lugubrious(mournful) songs celebrating the slaughter of Jews.
Now that the Arabs have acquired national consciousness, and they compare their societies to other nations, these deficiencies become painfully evident, particularly to the upper-class Arab kids who attend foreign universities. There they learn about the accomplishments of Christians, Jews, (Freud, Einstein, for starters) and women.
And yet, with the exception of Edward Said, there is scarcely a contemporary Arab name in the bunch. No wonder, then, that major recruitment to al-Qaeda's ranks takes place among Arab university students.
And no wonder that suicide bombing becomes their tactic of choice: it is a last-ditch, desperate way of asserting at least one scrap of superiority—a spiritual superiority—over the materialistic, life-hugging, and ergo shameful West.
But this tactic is not, I suggest, a product of Islam. Rather, it is a product of the bruised Arab psyche. Remember that the Japanese also turned to suicide tactics in WWII to evade the humiliation of defeat. Though their religion was Shinto rather than Muslim, they too constituted a paradigm(A set of assumptions, concepts, values, and practices that constitutes a way of viewing reality for the community that shares them, especially in an intellectual discipline. ) shame/honor culture, and defeat brought about, as with the Arabs, a furiously suicidal/homicidal response. After their armies had been defeated, their fleets sunk, their cities set aflame, and their home islands invaded, they launched the kamikaze bomber offensive, thereby committing a hi-tech form of hara-kiri, their usual remedy against intolerable shame.
It is in this way that the modern Arab world resembles the Japan of World War II. In both cases it is not religions but psychic wounds, the wounds inflicted by defeat and evident INFERIORITY, that inspire suicide bombers.
It is often asserted that the changes set in train by modernization are particularly toxic to the Arabs. No doubt this is true. But if we are going to be therapeutic(Having or exhibiting healing powers), our diagnoses need to be more specific; we need to identify the particular pathogens(An agent that causes disease, especially a living microorganism such as a bacterium or fungus.) that are released by modernization. Besides sharpening their sense of inferiority relative to the West, modernization threatens to bring about the liberation of women (as in Afghanistan and Iraq).
I say "threatens," because the self-esteem of Arab males is in large part predicated(To base or establish ) on the inferior position of their women.
The Arab nations have for the most part lost their slaves and dhimmis(ذمي, collectively أهل الذمة ahl al-dhimmah, "the people of the dhimma or pact of protection"; Ottoman Turkish & Urdu zimmi, "one whose zimma [responsibility of protection] has been taken") is a non-Muslim subject of a state governed in accordance with sharia law.), the subject peoples onto whose persons the stigmata of shame could be downloaded. But anyone who has spent time among them knows that Arab males have not lost their psychological need for social and sexual inferiors.
In the absence of slaves and captive peoples, Arab women are elected for the special role of the inferior who, by definition, lacks honor. Arab men eradicate shame and bolster their shaky self-esteem by imposing the shameful qualities of the dhimmi, submission and passivity, upon women. Trailing a humbled woman behind them, Arab men can walk the walk of the true macho man(A male who is virile and sexually active).
Hence the relative lack of material achievement by Arabs: the Arab world has stunted(An atypically small animal or plant.) the female half of its brain pool, while the men acquire instant self-esteem not by real accomplishment, but by the mere fact of being men, rather than women.
No wonder, then, that the Arab nations feel irrationally threatened by the very existence of Israel. Like America, the Jews have brought the reality of the liberated woman into the very heart of the Middle East, into dar al-Islam itself. Big Satan and Little Satan: the champions of Muslim women.
I contend that female liberation is the most hopeful development in the Middle East, greater even than the first stirrings(Exciting strong feelings, as of inspiration; rousing ) of democracy. I believe that Arab women have a greater stake in liberal democracy than Arab men, and as they acquire political power, they will fight for it. As for suicide bombings, jihadism and the macho posturing of Arab men, they are desperate remedies against further humiliation, against the perceived threat of “castration,”(Removing, or inhibiting the function or development of, the ovaries or testes. ) by their own women.
Until Arab women achieve freedom and independence, we can expect, at least for awhile, to see Arab men cling to these remedies.
Even then, some Arab men will probably backslide to even greater suicidal/homicidal tantrums(A fit of bad temper. Also called regionally hissy, hissy fit.
).
Others, (perhaps even a majority) no longer able to project their deficiencies onto Arab women, will begin to recognize the flaws in themselves. These converts would adopt the self-critical stance that is already showing up among some daring Arab intellectuals and even religious leaders.
And when Arab men can no longer acquire instant self-esteem by demeaning(degrading) their women, some of them might even turn to the arts of peace, and try to acquire the sense of self-worth via instrumental rather than illusory psychological means.
We cannot, in the end, correct all the distortions of the Arab shame/honor ethos. But by pledging our support for Arab women's liberation—for instance, by advocating expanded liberties for women in the text of the new Iraqi constitution—we can hasten its erosion.
You will notice that Dzates, Muhammed, and Adnan do not talk about any women in their lives. Women are Inferiors and should to these gentlemen have no real place in the lives of macho men.
I have a mother who was born in Salalah in Oman, a wife from Alabama and a baby girl, my first child whose name is Nicole. They are my real loves. I grew up in a household of older sisters, I was the baby and the only male. Women have surrounded me all of my life. When I look at the goodness of the world I see it through all the goodness which they gave me.
My family has a longer tradition as Americans than yours does. If you are what you seem to be you dont even know your own grandfather's name.
My people came into Georgia in 1745 and into the Frontier in 1757. We were US Marshals in Indian territory in 1835. We were into the North Georgia Mountains as early as 1807.
I have seen my mother's family and their house. Its got a courtyard under awnings(A rooflike structure, often made of canvas or plastic, that serves as a shelter, as over a storefront, window, door, or deck) like sails and a scented big white Myrrh Tree, It has no air conditioning but the breezes come off the sea and up the valley
all day and make the shady house cool.
My kin were willing to trade if you had a strong ship, and they would take your ship if you were seen as weak. Either way they made a profit and the family fortune was based on "import/export" They do guns and gold across and back from India. They expedite arms to Iran now. Dad ran a trucking company for the Pak/Iran route and made a lot of money doing 20mm guns to distributers in Iran.
He swears he never did drugs at any time. But I think the drug people were buying his guns. You could arrange for Drugs to pay your bills and still never handle the stuff yourself. Its all paper to the Emirate banks. The Iranians have three million Heroin addicts, its their problem.
You sound paranoid, fagboy. Want to see another pic of me? I have already told you where I live...Lost Mountain, Georgia just off old Dallas Hwy and I can see the park from my front window.
Want to see a UTube of me firing one of my rifles at the Fort Mountain Gun Range.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WRnwT59ehF8
That's me...half Arab on my Mom's side and I served my tour in th USArmy Rangers at Camp Merrill in the North Georgia Mountains and now have a new wife and baby girl named Nicole.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pVwevjwBH1k&feature=related
The above is a friend who lives in Dahlonega, Georgia, 'bout nine miles south of Suches, Georgia. He does errands for my dad. He collects guns. Down here in the South, Adnan, we dont particularly care for you raggies. And we supply a lot of good soldiers for the Army and Marines. Its sort of traditional. We like a sort of jihad ourselves, only we hunt towelies. Good at it too.
My dad, whom you already know, is back from Iran and has invested the money he made there by buying two city blocks in metropolitan Atlanta in Sylvan Hills. The recession isnt our problem, we are making money. He has a hobby as a Coach for a Country Club Women's Competition Trap Shooting team.
Its beautiful Spring weather here and I am going shopping today and then coming home to fix BBQ pork for Lunch and make a fresh salad served with Lemonade.
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You know my Mom just loves being American. She's been here since about 1974 or so. I was born in 1980, my sister was born in 1976.
The biggest holiday, even above Christmas, in my Mom's house is 4th of July. We ALWAYS have a big family cookout on the Grill and BarBQ and Corn on the Cob and the whole layout, no matter what. Her house is full of Americana antiques, a big brass American Flag fireplace screen, Geese painted on the trash can and Cardinals painted on the mailbox. She likes to dress up like Dolly Parton.
Mother of pearl buttons and a big Silver dollar belt buckle on her cowboy fringed shirt, she even bought some cowboy boots. Early American furniture and little knick knacks that are kitch as hell.
She haunts antique stores, cant drive by one without going in to look.
Loves to Garden, and her house is a Moslem paradise of flowers and growing things. Her idea of Heaven is her house and the big yard, the landscaping and the trees and bird feeders and the squirrels she feeds..humming bird feeder in front of the porch so she can look at them, and orchids filling the windows alongside the gardenias. A big American Flag in the front yard.
She converted to Roman catholicism all on her own before I was born...my older blood sister is a Dominican Contemplative Nun and Mom tossed out everything she regarded as Moslem. My dad is hard to describe on the religion side, he's a total opportunist, always looks to a realists advantage. Religion is simply something he uses like putting on a shirt. He can act the part of anything and he has this ability to assume body english and mannerisms and speak the language without an accent when he needs to. He can dress up and shift like a magician and you can watch him disappear and a new person step forward who even seems to smell and even walk different. He's uncanny.
He can take on an entire being and then stop in mid step and grin at you.
He's got a real talent for it. A nasty talent.
I know him better than Mom and she knows him well. She adores him, would forgive him anything. I am careful around him. He's too good at illusions... the only thing you can know for certain is that he is in it for himself. He manipulates people, and has no conscience when he does it. Its never a good idea to trust him at face value.
The funny thing is you forget what he is sometimes he is so convincing, and then you are brought up short with a start by really looking at him and seeing him grin.
When I was ten he wouldnt give me any food unless I caught it myself or killed it myself. I didnt want to kill a rabbit and he wouldnt give me anything to eat until I killed the rabbit. I killed the rabbit and then he handed me the knife and told me how to skin it and cut it up. Then he said I could keep the knife as mine.
I remember cutting the rabbits feet off one at a time and then pushing the blade in to the skin and slitting open the belly and slitting down the legs and peeling off the skin and then cutting off the little wet head at the neck...and him just watching me and then letting me eat.
Author: Seraph1 -
Date: 29-04-09 03:27
http://www.albawabaforums.com/read.php3?f=3&i=358833&t=358833
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