Norman Manea - The Fifth Impossibility - Essays on Exile and Language

In their own way, the fundamentalists are also suggesting a kind of globalization. Not a democratic one, of course, but a totalitarian one. The real question remains as to what kind of “globalization” might be offered as an alternative. Surely not the mystical, totalitarian patriarchy of the Middle Ages that negates dialogue, difference, dissidence. The “holy” war for the restoration of obsolete, collectivist traditions is part of Islam, but also part of Christianity and Judaism and the fundamentalism of other religions. It is only due to the large number of Muslims and the role of the Mosque as a guide for many illiterate believers that the danger in the Muslim world seems greater.

Yet, I think we should avoid the idea of an irreconcilable battle between the Christian-Jewish tradition that celebrates human life, with all its ideals and warts, and the Muslim fanatics, to whom death appears the holiest fulfillment. We should hope, rather, for a structural change in the Muslim world, for a gradual and essential modernization of its social landscape, and do our best to accelerate such a change.

The cult of death is not strictly a Muslim phenomenon. Extremists of the European right celebrated it before 1945. We are now as familiar with the reactionary nationalistic revolution of fascism and Nazism as with the communist one, known as “progressive” and internationalist. It isn’t difficult to imagine where the return to such projects may lead. The question about Islam is still more puzzling: do we really know Islam?

I suggested to my students that they start a dialogue with their Muslim colleagues. It is important that Muslims themselves, not followers of other faiths or atheists, explain whether the belief in Allah implies an apocalyptic war against all “infidels”; or was the terrorists’ clever use of religious slogans an excuse for their criminal undertaking?

In these horrible times, New York was damaged, shocked, traumatized. They were days of siege and emergency. But the citizens and institutions of this great city remained courageous, and the incomparable metropolis gradually began to pulsate, to return to its old rhythm. I truly felt American, even more so than when I was granted citizenship, and I truly felt a New Yorker, deeply connected to the daily life and the symbols of my new domicile. This modern Babylon — with a large Chinatown, with large Russian, Jewish, Italian, and Indian enclaves — symbolizes not only America and its ideals, but the entire modern world. It is not accidental that people from eighty countries died in the Trade Center.

More than a few, in America and elsewhere, are demanding that America submit itself to the strongest criticism for its sins and disasters, its arrogance and superficiality, its materialism, vulgarity and wealth. Self-scrutiny and self-criticism should be undergone as a matter of course for every sound nation. But whoever believes that “America” consists of a horde of arrogant and domineering “patriots” does not understand that at every level it is made up of countless Americas. Its unyielding diversity often confuses strangers, and even Americans, forcing them to adopt a childish reductionism. To use simplistic “emblems” of anti-Americanism means to ignore the great American scientific, cultural, economic, and social achievements and its past and present indispensable contribution to world democracy. Would our planet be better without America? I doubt it. I rather hope that in the near future the American Muslim population will become the point of reference for the Muslim world, as has happened with Jews, Latin Americans, Koreans, and many others in this country.

I recall a writers’ conference in Amsterdam, at the beginning of the 1990s. Since I was the only participant from the United States, I was taken for a “Yankee,” although then I did not even have American residency. After my speech, a renowned Arab author from Israel mentioned a few incidents of discrimination against his fellows in America, then turned to me and asked in front of the audience: “Is that a democracy, sir?” I was tempted to ask him, in turn, what he was comparing America with. With Arab states, for instance, corrupt monarchies and brutal dictatorships? But I only told him that I was speaking for myself, as always, not for any group or country. “Yes, I think America is a real, often trivial, essential democracy,” I said. “A popular, dynamic democracy that forever reinvents itself. But it is not a perfect country.” And I added, “I spent most of my life in a faraway country in a society that claimed to be perfect. I would prefer never again to share such a privilege. I am glad to live in a country that is as imperfect as its citizens are.” When I finished, I suddenly remembered that the one American novelty I really was enthusiastic about from the start was the absence of identity cards.

America has, of course, not a few disturbing sides, but in the history of world powers it doesn’t find itself in too bad a place. A comparison with the Ottoman Empire, the Tsarist Empire, or the Soviet Union and the Third Reich suffices. Certainly, America provokes frustration, envy, injustice, and even hatred. But its principles are deeply humanistic, supported by a sort of religion of dialogue and pragmatic compromise. The American spirit furthers competition, often tough competition — but it asks of the victor not to allow the loser to sink too low. America has helped many peoples and countries, even former enemies. It is hoped that this will happen in Afghanistan, as well, to speed up a drastic social and political change.

So many people who try to understand and accept the terrible habits and deeds of closed societies in faraway countries and civilizations should also try to understand the contradictions and conflicts, the errors and disasters of a free society. This would also mean, in the end, understanding the unsettling potential of human beings — not only elsewhere, but here, in our proximity, at the core of modernity.

Political errors and new options should be discussed more and more in the near future in relation to the premise, cause, and consequences of the September 11 terrorist attack. This must be an open and also a self-critical discourse of a sort that is unthinkable in the terrorists’ countries of origin.

An American military victory alone would mean another huge diversion. The major event of September 11 should force us all to rethink major questions about ourselves, and the national and international social-political environment.

As much as I hope for a serious debate on this matter, I must confess that I sometimes find myself stupefied by the scandalously frivolous old / new anti-capitalist and anti-American slogans. They seem to say: “The attacker is always perfect.” The victim, in this case America, has taken the guilt upon itself, has done regrettably bad things, so we should blame it for its imperfection.

We should not forget that we are under attack by the brutality and barbarism of a deluded enemy, for whom human life does not count and who can rely on fellow believers and other extremist ideologies. The threats from the centers of the fanatical movement are a serious danger to the entire free world. This is a fact we should no longer allow ourselves to ignore.

I would hope, as I have already said, for much more than an American military victory. What we all expect is a more secure and open world, a change for the better — which means a lawful and fair society — in some of the Islamic and underdeveloped countries, and an enhanced democracy in many other places as well as here at home. America needs to do its best in this direction. Otherwise this unusual battle may result, in the end, in another trivialization of tragedy.

Translated from the German by Eric Grunwald and