The White Peril 白禍

Any of my fellow Anglosphere natives who are ready to put a hammer through their monitor if they see one more headline that says, "French say 'Non!' to EU constitution," may take some comfort in knowing that it was the cliché of the weekend here, too. (And I am aware that that was the way the campaign went in French--it's still not that hard to use the word reject when you're writing in English.) This morning's main editorial in the Nikkei was printed under the line "With French 'Non,' European unity rent again." There was, however, this delicious sentence, which contains a compound I don't believe I've seen:

仏以上に国民のＥＵ不信が強い英国では、ブレア政権が国民投票を先送りにするはずだ。

In England, where distrust of the EU among the citizens is stronger than in France, the Blair administration is expected to push back its own referendum.[my emphasis--SRK]

EU不信, huh? Yes, I know, it's not really an expression per se; it's just the compressed style of newspaper writing. Still, pretty catchy. How'd I not notice that one before? To turn it into a legitimate four-character compound, of course, you'd probably have to use the kanji abbreviation of EU: 欧州連合不信-->欧連不信.

I've been summoned to the role of gay big brother more than usual these last few weeks. I'm glad to do it--お互い様でしょう？--but it's made me more jealous of my time alone and less likely (if you haven't noticed) to feel like posting.

I've been reading enough to notice that class is one of the topics of the day, though. Virginia Postrel's advice for one of the people profiled in the final installment in the NYT series on class, who is making plans to go back to college and become a schoolteacher, is good:

Blevins sounds like a fine man, the kind of person who makes communities--and supermarkets--work. Too bad the Times won't honor him for his real accomplishments, including finding a demanding career he's good at. (Most of his buyer colleagues have college degrees.) Instead, he's portrayed as a victim and the "happy ending" is that he's going back to college so he can get a job he's totally unsuited for. A guy who hates school this much doesn't belong anywhere near a classroom, least of all in front of one.

She's right, but it's interesting how the article raised and then didn't follow through on one of the more interesting angles here. A lot of working-class people see college as a trade school with more books and more job security waiting when you finish. Merely going to college no longer makes you plummy, given how the economy has evolved; but still, feeling engaged by school is, in many ways, not encouraged.

My father read to my brother and me from the Bible every night before bed until I was, probably, 15 or so. The church to which we belonged published two monthly magazines with a lot of writing about world affairs (it was big on prophecy), and they were always lying around. Or Mom would be reading one of them while the television was on. Additionally, my Catholic mother and Anglican father married and then converted to an extremely tiny fundamentalist sect; without disrespecting the dead, I think I can say that this sequence of events was met with something less than enthusiasm by key family elders.

So I was brought up by parents who read when they didn't have to (if that makes sense) and who were sympathetic to the idea that your parents' expectations may not be what's really best for you. They made an effort to become friendly with my teachers and, without being neurotic, kept after me if I got lazy. We also happened to live in a school district in which there was a critical mass of well-off families. The people I was in classes with were talking about MIT and Bucknell and Penn State main campus and Columbia from junior high school on. So were the teachers and guidance counselors.

By the time I got to college, my experiences had made me much more like the people I was surrounded by than like the people I'd actually grown up with. I don't mean "experiences" in the sense of having summered on Mackinac or watching Dad casually write a check for $15,000 for that semester's tuition--those I obviously didn't have. I mean feeling like part of the progression from high school to competitive college to choice of major to a good job in a major city; I was in on the dance and knew the steps. Barring a financial emergency, it would never have occurred to me to drop out temporarily. You might have a semester when you were bored by most of your classes and feeling hiply disaffected, but you kept going and maybe drank a little more.

What we're talking about is an entire vision of the world and where you fit into it. It's not surprising at all that well-meant preschool initiatives (as the Kay Hymowitz article linked above discusses) and increased attempts by big-guns institutions such as UVA to recruit in poor districts don't succeed in getting more low-income students to leave college with a degree. If you're focused solely on the prospect of getting a job and think of learning as nothing but the means to the end, it's easy to be tempted away by an offer of solid, full-time work that makes you feel you're doing something. And because Mom and Dad's constant worrying about money is almost certain to have colored your upbringing a lot, the impulse to start saving now and figure you can come back to college after you have a safe amount stored away is also probably strong.

Virginia Postrel's comments reminded me of an article I read last week-ish that made me so angry I nearly started hurling my saucily-patterned throw pillows around. It was by one Cameron Scott, whose unfathomable non-argument in this opinion piece was apparently sufficient to get it into the SF Gate (via Gay News), but who exhibits all the sociological insight of a two-slice toaster and the coherence of my utility drawer.

The main topic is, actually, an interesting one: why is it that the public presence of gay culture is so weighted toward us boys? Scott points out that lesbians in general earn less than gay men and are, therefore, a less attractive market for investors who want the bars and events they fund to turn a profit. Fair enough.

Next she asks whether this is the result (1) of choices made by lesbians or (2) of forces beyond their control. The answer is, uh, yes:

Charity work, bohemianism, working-class culture: These enduring affinities reveal that out lesbianism has long been at odds with middle-class values and income.

The mutual exclusivity of lesbians and the middle class does not mean that there are no lesbians who get by in the middle-class world. It means that lesbians can become part of public culture only to the extent that they turn away from their own culture. Lesbians as lesbians have virtually no role in public culture.

Dyke culture's long-standing opposition to middle-class values is one of its most vital and empowering aspects. But the impossibility of middle-class existence for dykes means that we still have to deal with some aspects of homophobia that have been ameliorated for gay men.

Economic disempowerment leaves people more open to the blows of discrimination. Middle-class jobs do not tolerate lesbian attitudes or attire because they suggest that the prospective employee is not already a member of the middle class — a sin greater even than private perversion.

Yes, it's a good thing the working class exists--otherwise, where would slumming lesbians go for empowerment? (Or maybe I mean disempowerment--am I imagining things, or did she not describe it as both, almost in the same breath?)

I've known plenty of lesbians with formidable management skills who flourish in corporate environments like fish in water, but everyone has her own set of strengths. If someone who was brought up in middle-class surroundings decides she'd rather work with her hands than play the often soul-destroying career game of office politics, great, I say.

But if you opt for working-class life, you're going to get the whole thing: money is tight and you worry about it a lot, you come home from work physically worn out, and you have little direct input into the shaping of images in popular culture. You don't get a pass just because you fancy that your little épater le bourgeois dress-up game of Hard Hat Barbie is a noble gesture of non-conformism. Bitching along the lines of "Can't I wear the comfy clothes to work and have a job with no staff meetings and make enough money to vacation at a dedicated hotel in South Beach and be a creative consultant on a soon-to-be hit show?" is asinine.

If you want access to the money and connections that allow your group to raise its issues and work its agenda, you have to demonstrate a basic willingness to do business. That does, indeed, mean dressing up and being nice and putting the project at hand ahead of sexual frankness sometimes when you don't feel like it.

Everyone born into this world is limited to a degree by the circumstances of his genes and upbringing. In America, unlike almost everywhere else, decisions about how to build on that foundation are left up to the individual rather than the group. That's a great and wonderful thing, but it doesn't mean that trade-offs are unnecessary. Andy Blevins's views of education may be misguided, but at least he's taking the right approach: asking how he can improve himself and considering the possibility that he may need to do things he doesn't like. He's a far more sympathetic character than Scott, who seems to believe that her coterie's problems stem from the fact that neither the middle nor the working class sees how cool they are.

The spread of virulent theocracy appears to be well-nigh unstoppable in my home state:

A Pennsylvania school district violated the free-speech rights of a parent who was prevented from reading the Bible to her son's kindergarten class, an attorney for the woman said on Monday.

The parent, Donna Busch, has filed a lawsuit against the Marple Newtown School District near Philadelphia, claiming her constitutional rights were breached when a school principal stopped her reading from the Bible in a class last October.

Busch, of Newtown Square, Pennsylvania, attended her son Wesley's class as part of "Me Week," which gave parents an opportunity to read aloud from their child's favorite book.

Busch planned to read Psalm No. 118 but was told by the principal the reading would violate the separation of church and state, according to the suit filed earlier this month.

Yes, letting mothers read Bible chapters alongside Make Way for Ducklings and Where the Wild Things Are is clearly comparable to the institution of a state religion. Dorkwads. Children are left in the care of people with this kind of judgment?

The school district has defended the principal, saying his actions upheld the law, and its policies forbid the teaching or advocacy of any religion.

Ed Partridge, president of the school's board of directors, said Busch would have broken the law if she read the Bible because it would have amounted to a promotion of religion.

So this mother is the state? I suppose there's a dark Freudian appeal there, if you go in for that sort of thing. BTW, for those who, like me, are a bit rusty on which Psalm is which number, Psalm 118 is here. It talks a great deal about God's role as a protector, but there doesn't seem to be much about it that endorses an identifiable brand of theology over any other. Any little atheist children traumatized by it aren't likely to fare any better when it's time to talk about the spirits in Native American religions, or about how wonderful and peaceable Buddhism is.

Q and O has a great post on the whole commotion over the Newsweek Koran-not-down-the-toilet incident. Dale Franks and Jon Henke get some help from a column by Anne Applebaum:

Now, it is possible that no interrogator at Guantanamo Bay ever flushed pages of the Koran down the toilet, as the now-retracted Newsweek story reported — although several former Guantanamo detainees have alleged just that. It is also possible that Newsweek reporters relied too much on an uncertain source, or that the magazine confused the story with (confirmed) reports that prisoners themselves used Korans to block toilets as a form of protest.

But surely the larger point is not the story itself but that it was so eminently plausible, in Pakistan, Afghanistan and everywhere else. And it was plausible precisely because interrogation techniques designed to be offensive to Muslims were used in Iraq and Guantanamo, as administration and military officials have also confirmed.

I disagree with this somewhat, in the sense that I don't see the believability of the story as the larger point. I think we're looking at piss-poor judgment from both sides.

PR matters. There are hundreds of millions of people whom we want to bring around to our vision of civic life: a free market of competing but coexisting ideas. We have an advantage in that people seek to be free of the tyranny over them. We have a disadvantage, however, in that many perceive America as a place that's unmoored from tradition and basic considerations of civility.

There are few more resonant ways we could convince large swaths of the world population that such fears are justified than to have descriptions get around of armed forces personnel gleefully polluting people before prayer time or otherwise treading on their religious taboos to get a rise out of them. Soldiers are the most disciplined group of people in any society; if they comport themselves that way, it's not a stretch for people to imagine that liberalizing will turn daily life into a Britney Spears video.

Note that I am not against ruthlessly breaking down the will of a known terrorist to get specific knowledge out of him in an emergency. Nor do I fail to sympathize with soldiers whose duty it is to run prisons that house suspected terrorists. You can hardly blame them for being rough and gruff and showing temper.

I am also not suggesting that we try to be as nicey-nicey as possible to see whether we can win over those who have already committed to thuggery and terrorism. The problem is that they are not the only people watching. There are a lot of ordinary people who have not traveled to the West and can only judge our character through images and reports. That many of those issuing the reports will labor to make the US look evil does not mean that we should be making it easy for them.*

But, for heaven's sake, neither should Newsweek. Eric and Rosemary, among many others, have given it the drubbing it deserves. A few months ago, a reader wrote to me, angrily but very civilly, to take me to task for having approvingly linked to a jokey post making fun of liberals who bitch about every aspect of our holding facilities that doesn't compare favorably with the Royalton. I stand by that post, but his point was good, too: we know there's been real malfeasance. How systemic it is, how the perpetrators are being dealt with, how further incidents are being prevented--these are all legitimate questions for citizens and the press.

Does a report of what may have been a few isolated incidents of low-level personnel getting out of hand really warrant reporting, given the (now non-hypothetical) damage it can do? Of course, in order to recognize what's unduly inflammatory, reporters would have to have a sense of the tremendous moral and emotional heft that religious symbolism has for many people. They can't even do that for their own countrymen.



* And specifically regarding the sexual-harassment angle...the reasons conservative Muslim governments keep women off the judicial bench and (sometimes out of the workplace entirely) are that women are seen as emotional and their presence seen as sexually destabilizing. Smearing prisoners with supposed menstrual blood or using other sexually-charged methods of interrogation reinforces that belief. It seems to me that women simply going about their duties with the same soldierly self-command as their male comrades would be much more likely to throw fanatical Muslim men off-balance.