In view of the violence that afflicted Iraq right after this promising sermon on the virtues of democracy, one cannot help but ponder the dark side to universalism. For indeed there is a connection between universally packaged solutions and coercion. I shall deal primarily in this lecture with the dilemma of cultural diversity, its tensions with universalism, and how all that affects democracy and human rights.          

I have for long contemplated the inconsistency in the valuable contribution made by the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, (henceforth UDHR) with the vernacular that its authors[2]  borrowed from the Enlightenment literature, not to mention the anxieties that the Declaration has roused with communities not socially ready for its imperatives.            

In 1948, the Human Rights Commission, it is true, was quite aware and attentive to concerns over the vast diversities in world cultures. Its members represented the major cultures of the world from China all the way to India, the Middle East, the Soviet Union, Europe, and the Americas. However, only Egypt and Ethiopia represented the continent of Africa. Though carefully selected, the vocabulary of the document has European overtones and owed quite a bit to the literature of the Enlightenment. The Commission was not able nor was it subjected to strong pressure to accommodate traditions of non-Western countries, whose representatives often bent over backward to consider the terms of the document as consistent with elements in their own cultures.     

Curiously, one of the arguments over cultural diversity that came up during the UN General Assembly deliberation of the document revolved around differences in Middle Eastern perspectives. The debate was led by two Lebanese[3] advocates on opposite sides of the spectrum: Charles Malik of the Lebanese delegation, representing the perspective of universalism, and Jamil Baroody, the Saudi Arabia representative, arguing for the particularistic outlook and the right for Muslims to differ.[4]   

Not until the mid fifties at the height of the cold war, and as a sequel to the Bandung Conference[5] of the emerging countries of Africa and Asia, that the bold charges of cultural imperialism started to be raised against the universalistic concepts expressed in the UDHR. Demands then started to appear for exemption of some cultures from the rights provisions on the pretext of regional specificity. The way those demands were made to justify political authoritarianism was unfortunate. That is not, however, what draws me into the debate here; it rather is my desire to find our bearings in the midst of the theoretical fog generated by opposite claims for universal and contextual outlooks.   

While the issue of universalism is partly philosophical it is also connected to the recent lionization of democracy and to the efforts made by major nations to impose their blue print on others.   

 Let me quickly come to terms with what seems like incompatibility in the universalist vocabulary of the UDHR and the measured modesty of contemporary thought. At issue is finding ways to reconcile our attraction to the universal that is otherwise harsh and inflexible with our appreciation for the contextual that tends at times to be parochial. Those opposite tendencies are reflected in two major documents of the UN: the UDHR, on the one hand, and the other, the UNESCO Convention of the Protection and Promotion of the Diversity of Cultural Expression (2005).

The recently[6] passed UNESCO Convention on diversity[7] stands out by its focus on the centrality of cultural identities, while at the same time paying a lip service to the universalism of the UDHR. Asserting that diversity is a defining characteristic of humanity, the Convention sheds no light on how does it relate to universal norms propagated by the UDHR. Though the Convention constitutes a welcome recognition of cultural differences and contextual constraints, the document nevertheless remains a conflicted statement, unsustainable without first showing where diversity and uniformity meet, if at all. Such a step becomes compelling since the UNESCO Convention on the Protection of Diversity acknowledges the universality of rights in the UDHR.  At no point, however, do the authors of the UNESCO Convention raise the question as to whether diversity and uniformity are compatible or in conflict. If it is necessary for the UNESCO Convention to depart from the positions and language adopted by the UDHR, then the theoretical foundations for such a departure should be clearly made.   

The purpose of this critique is to read the vocabulary of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights document in a way that fits with our contemporary discourse, not to abandon its claims. Some of that vocabulary strongly expresses the metaphysical and universal language of the Enlightenment period, for example, prefacing almost each article with the qualifier “all.” In addition, the document associates rights with birth and procedural majorities with “will of the people” (articles 1, and 21).      

It is quite possible, however, to consider that the Declaration never intended the concept of rights to stand for an objective state of affairs or to be referenced to externally endowed privileges. Looking at the document through Aristotelian or seventeenth century rationalist lenses would make no sense today. Some political theorists on democracy still view it that way, though such a reading would have consequences to the way we understand democratic theory today.   

The notion of rights is essentially linked to authority, and the authority behind the concept of natural rights[8] is a profoundly contested proposition. Rights gain no compelling legitimacy from attributing to them a doubtful status of independence from human design. As conventional concepts, rights differ according to time and place, and must vary with the different ways human beings express themselves. Cultural identities expressed in the UNESCO Convention become especially salient when context is taken into account.  However, to concede that the two different positions expressed in the separate international documents are relevant, does not remove the stigma of their being incompatible. What can then be done?    

First, it will be suggested here that the terms in which human rights were expressed in the Declaration are redeemable if interpreted as propositions of preferred conduct in the public sphere that are widely subscribed to in the world today. Seen as normative rules designed under a process of deliberation and presented as standards for behavior with a high likelihood of acceptability, they may legitimately be described as having a universal appeal. In this way, they remain as propositions suitable for all mankind to consider, though having no force as an obligatory imperative, unless they had been legislated as a law by a recognized authority.     

Cultural identities become easier to reconcile with the intent of the articles in the UDHR when those articles are interpreted as standards expressed in universal terms. The contextual and the universal will converge as a result of interpretation made under conditions of the flexible understanding of the text and of the observed traditions of cultural identities seen under broadened perspectives.    

The authors of the UDHR document themselves have hinted at this conclusion in statements made at various occasions. Eleanor Roosevelt, a leading member of the Commission, described the document “as a standard of conduct for all,” (167) Another prominent founding father, Charles Malik, stated that the Declaration is a “composite synthesis” of all existing rights traditions[9], and  that it would “serve as a potent critic of existing practice. It will help to transform reality.” Chang of China, who played a major role on the Commission, stated that article one called upon all men to act toward one another in a spirit of brotherhood.[10] Clearly, those expressions show that the founders were laying down norms envisioned to represent the best for mankind in general rather than declare the discovery of inalienable truths.  
  

The UDHR was put together by a committee of multicultural composition and was ratified by the vast majority of member states at the UN General Assembly. In effect, the rights specified in the document as standards of behavior have gained the requisite weight for wide applicability in the political, legal, and moral spheres. Since its ratification, the UDHR has inspired and served as a model on rights in the writing of constitutions of ninety countries.[11]  It has, moreover, become a recognized source for the promulgation of international law. This leaves little doubt that the concept of rights in the document is understood as part of a human design for a new world order, rather than as a metaphysical assertion. It also shows in effect that the constructive form in which the UDHR language was framed has been widely accepted.[12] 
 

Viewed under those terms, nations that find it difficult to live under the uniform and peremptory aspects of the UDHR articles can find room for negotiations and adjustments. They are, indeed, under obligation to propose a new language for negotiating universality in the context of cultural specificity. It is a course that hopefully would achieve the same purpose as the UDHR, but in line with the specific heritage of various nations.[13] In fact, while seeking negotiated settlements, leaders may find some helpful guiding principles in Islamic jurisprudence; I am referring, of course, to the concept of maqasid al shar’, the intent of the law, concepts that were put into effect for a similar purpose centuries ago in the Muslim world.

Democracy and Violence

Having underlined the moral and juridical integrity of human rights espoused in the UDHR, it becomes possible to make a case for remedial action against oppressive regimes but only under the umbrella of the United Nations. Having by-passed the United Nations, Mr. Bush and his neo-conservative mentors have only a partially credible case for bringing down the murderous regime of Saddam Hussein. They can argue, as sometimes they do, that their action is in line with the obligation to protect human rights anywhere in the world. Marred by its unilateralism, the policy nevertheless establishes the claim to intervene where UDHR principles are violated. The burden of the rebuttal rests on those espousing opposition to foreign intervention. The opposition has the responsibility to provide intellectually well-founded reasons why Americans should not impose democratic, or any of their values on other nations, and why in principle it is not right for them to invade Iraq. Mr. Bush must also be given a meaningful alternative as to how to deal with tyranny without imposition by force or vacuous denunciatory verbiage.

Despite all the hoopla raised by the enemies of cultural imperialism, very little has been done to develop a persuasively philosophical case against the imposition of democratic values with universal attribution. An opponent to external intervention who champions cultural identity can, as often is the case, resort to the principles of self-determination and national sovereignty in self-defense. The same argument applies against the introduction of democracy by foreign agents. The principles of self-determination and of sovereignty do not, however, help; because these two concepts are derived from the same universal principles as democracy and human rights. They do not represent the case for sustaining diversity, specific cultures, or contextual legitimacy.[14]  

Some critics of the American imperial adventure may not be concerned about the philosophical foundations and simply want the right to install democracy themselves, but most others in developing countries consider democracy as a foreign implant and thus an aspect of cultural imperialism.  They entertain little respect for individualism or pluralism, a position to which they are entitled. Yet, advocates of that persuasion have made no compelling theoretical case for their politically unsettling claims.[15]

What is then the case that can be made for the stressed, indeed beleaguered, developing nations that had once to face colonialism, or may be still facing it now? Some intellectuals and activists have answered that question by evoking Frantz Fanon’s doctrine of violence. Fanon undermined the legitimacy of colonialism by advancing the idea that imposing one culture on another demeans the “other,” distorting his self-image, and stunts the normal development of his character. The path for rehabilitating the damaged good is for the victim to regain his freedom by the supreme act of violence and the destruction of the oppressor. Fanon’s argument serves as a warning to a foreign government, especially a democratic regime that it is not at liberty to colonize another country, because by harming the “other” the perpetrator violates his own cultural norms. Indeed, liberal democracy posits the harm principle as a basic limit on the exercise of freedom. Here lies the sting of Fanon’s argument to Western democratic regimes.      

Fanon’s view constitutes a serious battle formation, and should not be discounted when it comes to the Middle East, because this region remains the last bastion of colonialism, from Afghanistan to Palestine. No other region in the world today suffers from such an affliction. Let no one therefore pretend to be surprised at the tempo of violence in Palestine or the response to the invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq.            

The threat to this internationally vulnerable region and to its cultural integrity is not so much a matter of free market or trade protectionism, important as they are; it is a matter of political and cultural affront. Fanon has advanced a compelling proposition of a uniform and universal nature. Spelled out, it says: the liberation path for the colonized individual goes through unremitting violence.

Unfortunately, we can ignore this prescription for violence at our own risk. This is unfortunate because the risk is there, whether we take it or leave it without a challenge.   

Let me then deal, as briefly as possible, with this troubling dilemma, if not analytically, at least suggestively.       

In plain language, I shall advise against Fanon’s line of action. To Fanon’s thesis that individual and national identities are distorted by the impact of the dominant “other,” the answer is not necessarily or exclusively violence.        

My objection to Fanon is that while violence may free a resistance fighter from a foreign oppressor, it also sets him free from the binding and legitimate constraints of both the sacred and the mundane moral orders. It invites the disgruntled person to take justice into his own hands and leaves him devoid of a moral compass for constructive liberation. Violence as a defense mechanism divests the victim of the moral integrity necessary for building a free future. Violence brings forth an in-bred oppressor to replace a foreign one.            

While violence unleashes suppressed energies, it too suspends the morally binding force necessary to guide a community. Justice, especially in Islamic culture, represents the central theme upon which the moral foundation of society rests. Muslims have a clear understanding that undermining justice is a corrosive act and self-corrupting. It turns the human agent into a loose cannon against his own kind. 

An assortment of non-state actors from Indonesia to Morocco (and throughout Africa) have put Fanon’s proposition to the test and the outcome has proved to be a blatant act of aggression and wanton spilling of the blood of  innocent people, mostly Muslims.  While al Zarqawis and other self-appointed jihadists spilled Iraqi blood under the pretext of fighting colonial occupation, the Janjaweed bands in Darfur driven, supported and covered by the government of the Sudan, destroyed the homes and spilled the blood of Sudanese Muslims, their own flesh and blood. This should give a pause to anyone who seeks violence as a liberating force. The fact of the matter is that the slaughter machine in Darfur, and partly in Iraq, is not directed against a foreign oppressor, nor is it employed in protection of a threatened national identity. It is directed against the basic rights of a marginalized group of fellow citizens. Moreover, in the course of destroying the enemy, violence destroys hallowed principles observed in the societies of the perpetrators themselves, not sparing kith or kin. 

Much of the explanation for the rising tide of violence is often attributed to Islamic revivalism opposed to foreign intrusion while domestically it stirs up sectarian strife. This view narrows down the segment of Muslim population involved in violence, but it should not mean that all revivalists are violent; violence has other sources than religion.     

Let me briefly draw some conclusions regarding the Muslim violence thesis. In the first place, violence cannot be presented as a spontaneous Islamic response. The violent behavior of religiously zealous Muslims can be explained more effectively by other than religious sentiment. Violent groups who present themselves as liberators in the name of Islam have opportunistically projected Islam into the picture, and for a good reason.      

I am not arguing that Islam is unlike other religions, whose people are immune from conjuring up reprehensible acts, nor am I arguing that some Islamic parties are not coercive in thought and deed. I am simply stating that violent groups such as jihadists have independent reasons for being angry and violent, some of which reasons may be related but not necessarily a product of or a representation of Islam. Jihadists can best be understood in context, for they are above all manipulators, not the vanguard of Islam. Their project consists of (a) an exclusively possessive claim to the Islamic religion for the sake of privatizing its use, and (b) trying to expand their power base by portraying Islam as the offended party in order to draw in to their cause other Muslims that originally had nothing to do with the jihadists’ brief.            

It is worth stopping briefly at the notion of privatizing Islam. The term stands, first, for privatization of the discourse in the public space by a political movement, a sect, a clan, a corporation, or a clique, and the imposition of a monopoly or semi-monopoly on the terms of entry and exit. Second, it means choosing a closed vision as a strategic option; using simplicity for its effectiveness. Channeling the complexity of Islam into one simple vision makes it easier to control the forms of expression and the circulation of ideas and put them in the service of the jihadists’ own needs and interests not to honor the doctrine’s integrity or sanctity. It should not be forgotten that religious symbols, ideas, and rituals, create social solidarity.            

Third, privatization means giving a new twist to the meaning of religious ideas through issuing religious decrees, or fatwas that give acts or ideas a form necessary for the struggle in which jihadists are engaged. The process is fraudulent and distorts the Islamic religion. For example, extremists have declared jihad to be the primary Islamic obligation (al faridah al kubra), and designated other Muslims as kafirs, and claimed the right to kill innocent people, Muslims and non-Muslims alike. None of these claims can be plainly supported by Islamic doctrine. In effect, jihadists are recreating Islamic identity. As may happen under the circumstances with any community, wider circles of Muslim tend to become receptive to distortions that seem relevant to their beleaguered condition.       

As in Protestant Christianity, the privatization of religion by non-state actors is facilitated by the absence of clerical organization with exclusive authority in matters of faith. The combination of individualistic understanding of religion with the public character of Islam as a community has made the emergence of politically oriented religious groups, such as jihadists, much easier. Of course, this should not make one forget that non-militant revivalists and social realists also abound in the Muslim world.      

The new social fervor is not necessarily a permanent feature of Islam. It is rather a modern phenomenon driven by social mobilization. Dislocation and the susceptibility of the individual to become opinionated under the context of expanded literacy, urban-to-rural migration, frustrating social mobility, and the rapid expansion of the mass media have all led to social turbulence and dissatisfaction with traditions and established powers.  The dissolution process of traditional social formations such as tribe, village, and kasba that gave way to urban sprawls and slums has proved to be a politically inflammatory environment. New realignments of people developed along primordial lines of ethnicity and inherited religion in mega city centers, the majority of whose population are young and of provincial background.

In some instances, the public nature of Islamic religion whose self-image had historically been associated with a measure of central authority has triumphed in a way that dwarfed all other tendencies, and resulted in a religion--dominated state such as in Iran, Taliban Afghanistan, and the Sudan. The religious groups in those instances gained precedence with the help of one or another factor such as external political backing, relying on a strategic minority such as the military, or a well-entrenched Shiite clerical establishment invigorated by the decimation of alternative secular leaders and a demographic revolution. In many Arab countries, those trends have created a chronic strife between Islamists seeking national power and entrenched autocratic regimes.       

Privatization is about coercion, not liberation, not co-existence, not negotiation. Taliban, Khomeinism, the fundamentalist government of the Sudan, Wahhabism, and Jihadism all represent cases of privatizing religion in coercive ways to appropriate the public sphere and dispose of human and national resources at will.  The battle is for the vast majority of Muslims who have remained peaceful and adept at negotiating their ways under contemporary life conditions. One should remember though that the challenge posed by jihadists and fundamentalist regimes has gained enormous weight in the last quarter century, but so has the increasing tempo of strife between the basically “secular” regimes and revivalist movements. But despite all those unsettling developments, life among ordinary Muslims remains a routine affair, doing their daily chores and religious duties in separate zones. They are, moreover, convinced that their simple and separate practice of Islam, on the one hand, and mundane pursuits, on the other, are compatible and unimpeachable 

Considering the extensive imbalances and extreme vulnerability of the Muslim world to external intrusion, it would be natural to ask: how have the majority of Muslims been able to maintain their balance and act peacefully? If we claim to understand Islamic violence, we ought to be able to explain its absence as well.           

As adherents to a public religion, Muslims are particularly sensitive to the pragmatic imperative of cooperation and coordination dictated by the centrality of power considerations and by diversity. The rapid tempo of change in the modern world is a force that pushes them in the direction of practical solutions. This may be strange to say at a time when Muslims are seen in Western countries as inflexible and beholden to the past. This impression, especially in Europe, is the product of the cultural shock Europeans and Muslim immigrants in their midst experience daily. Muslims living as immigrant minorities in strange Christian countries at a stage of advanced industrialization are not the same Muslims living in the familiar and assured community at home. It is also worth bearing in mind that the majority of Muslim immigrants come from isolated rural areas that are among the poorest and the most traditional segments of their societies. For the immigrants, those are trying times. In contrast, ability to adjust to emerging conditions has never been as traumatic within the original Muslim countries of origin.              

In trying to explain the record of moderation among Muslim peoples in the modern era, I shall propose a theory of contextual reciprocity, with the emphasis on the unequal standing of the parties. Contextual reciprocity means exchange and bargaining under structural relations that are most often asymmetrical. Though the main thrust of contextual reciprocity is peaceful negotiation of diversity, the resistance option is hardly ever left out of consideration. Politically, tension is almost always present under conditions of contextual reciprocity. Sometimes an intractable position of subordination led Muslims to raise the banner of war or rebellion, but for the most part resistance was undertaken as of necessity and under the constraints of justice.

The major sustaining force behind Islam has been its moral power and sense of justice. Ordinary Muslims have through the ages been keenly aware of this core principle, knowing full well that deviation from the pivotal weight of their culture would not only harm others but would be corrosive of their own integrity and standing as a community. In the words of one of their prominent jurists: where there is justice there too is God’s way.[16] No other concept comes closer to freedom and democratic ideals in Muslim culture than justice. In the major ethical aspect of social stability and progress, the norms governing an ordinary Muslim provides a constructive focus.    

Tempered by the historically slow pace of change and expected benefits from contextual reciprocity, violent force did not become a substitute for justice, the way it is now among restless jihadists. Rather than lose their balance under duress, Muslims often found meaning and strength in negotiating diversity. 

Another aspect of practicing contextual reciprocity has been Muslims’ willingness to learn from dominant parties against whom they had to contend. Contextual reciprocity has made it possible for Muslims in so many countries to survive and make slow progress in a world in which they occupied a subordinate position. As a public oriented religion, Islam nourished a keen attention to improving worldly fortunes among its adherents. However, leading a life under unequal reciprocity often dominated by non-Muslims has not been free from tension, at times rebellion.  In general, though, tension had been deliberately controlled in the expectation of a promising resolution of pending conditions and in the hope of realizing a meaningful purpose in the life of the community.             

Finally, contextual reciprocity has been an explicit aspect of Islamic jurisprudence (fiqh), best exemplified by such doctrines as maqasid al shar’,[17] fiqh al muwaazanaat,[18] al maslaha [19], and adjustment to time and place. Most of those time honored principles have received a strong impetus at the hands of modernizing Muslims.      

The juridically influenced approach of contextual reciprocity is a moral force, and notably has a universal aspect to it, not unlike classical Greek and Christian traditions. In all three cultures, there has been a streak of awareness that discrimination in the application of morality is self-corrupting in the first instance, not just unfair to others. As a major core of the heritage, justice has not been self-centered or exclusive; it served as a basis for peace among adversaries, a source of individual integrity, and a principle of cohesion for the community.                      

Unequal reciprocity is a contextual and judgmental matter for which one finds parallels in most cultures. One aspect of it is well articulated in modern terms for the Western world by Charles Taylor, among others. Taylor holds the view that a person’s identity is formed by others’ images of him. Thus, failure to acknowledge equal respect for the different “other” is tantamount to causing harm, a principle that constituted a corner stone of nineteenth century European liberalism.

Taylor’s approach is relevant to our discussions in this colloquium in several ways. First, it provides the legitimating principle for recognizing diversity and equal respect. Second, it shows aggression or any denial of equal respect to be self-destructive to both the victim and the perpetrator. In effect, it is a major argument against colonialism and against imposing one’s own beliefs on others, including those of democracy. Third, by showing that identities are formed by interaction among diverse parties it creates a sense of responsibility and interdependence among actors who are different. This view modifies the contention that identities are formed by direct transmission in a line of succession within the same group.  

Let me quickly point to the interesting morale of this doctrine to Arabs since we are in an Arab environment here. It means that Arab nationalist identity has not developed as a direct derivation from the memory of the Arab’s past alone but also by interaction with foreigners. A reading of the history of Arab nationalism will clearly show how it has come about by contacts with Turkish nationalism, imperialism, and European thought in general. That does not make Arab identity any less pertinent, but it does cleanse it from chauvinism and from the narrow and rigid way of confronting the overwhelming wave of globalization.

In short, the Arabs do not have to continue to be defensive about external influences affecting their identity and culture, since they themselves have left an impact on the identity of the external agents as well. This approach allows them to consider how they have positively or negatively affected foreigners with whom they had been historically engaged and who had contributed to the formation of Arab self-image in its good and bad aspects.   

Turkish reconsideration of their country’s position and identity subsequent to WWI as well as European departure from imperialist ways, their subscription to the new culture of the United Nations and development were all reached in the context of Arab, Asian, and African reactions.

By definition, cultural identities are not pure, and the issue of authenticity should not be overdrawn. An identity may be different but not free of external influences that significantly shape its contours. Contrary to inclinations of nationalists, diversity does not alienate but offers grounds for coming together in some sort of community.         

Like taking a winding mountain road, the traveler in the realm of identity must always be ready for the unexpected, the dangerous, the inevitable stops and turns.  The traveler who focuses on the here and now will not lose sight of the end object up in the highland peaks. Yet, in extremis, those involved become uptight about similarities and differences in a clearly discriminating way to the disadvantage of everyone.           

But how will Taylor’s self-correcting approach be brought to bear on human beings crushed under foreign occupation, such as Iraqis and Palestinians today? Taylor’s argument has a bearing on the oppressed and the oppressor alike placing them both in equal need of liberation. Both are subject to harm--one on the hands of an external force and the other by self-inflicted wounds. Under a colonial context, the occupier’s oppression violates his own cultural norms, and that leads to self-corruption.        

Today the same can be said of the United States, where abuses of empire abroad have started to infect civil liberties and the application of justice at home. What has not been expected is that put in a position of power, the oppressed will visit the same sort of affront on others, including their own kind as in the Sudan today and among Muslims of one persuasion inflicting severe harm on Muslims of other persuasion or ethnicity.     

The Iraqis and the Palestinians, as can be expected, will listen to Taylor’s views with approval characterized by indifference. What is in it for us, they would say, especially when the hegemon is not responsive to the self-corruption warning? While professing adherence to human rights and democratic ideals, the governments of Israel and of the United States have been adept at turning their backs to the self-corruption aspect of their deeds. Instead, they have been generous in granting themselves license for abuse. By putting priority on adherence to security and nationalism, they have shown a strong attitude of parochialism and have diminished the qualifying universality of human rights and liberal ideals.  Concealing the preference they have for self-interest, domination, and nationalism, the hard liners among Americans and Israelis will say that peace visionaries fail to detect the evil nature that lurks in the other’s soul and his overwhelming desire to destroy. Taylor is only partially able to respond to this protest, because his ideas do not reach out to the realm of exploration of the other’s culture and identity. He would have to accept the modern day imperialists’ perception of the underdog as aggressive and may end up as their prisoner.            

Taylor does not explore the cultural ideals of the “other” per se, to see whether they too appreciate the universal importance of the best in their moral traditions. Without that consideration, he is unable to incriminate the actions or uphold the moral integrity of the “other.”  It may sound ruthless to ask Iraqis and Palestinians, who continue to suffer under imperialism, whether they abide by the best ideals in their own culture and refrain from denying justice to those who differ with them in their own community.  But the case must be made, not only with respect to Iraqis and Palestinians but to Muslims in general as well. They are equally subject to the Socratic-Taylorian argument of inadmissibility of living by double standards.

The geographic and cultural space from where Taylor speaks is indeed located in the West with the bearers of Western culture as the direct interlocutors, but it would not take much imagination to see the relevance of the principle of recognition of difference across geographic and cultural spheres the world over. Need we be reminded here that every culture and every society is made up of different and unequal segments whose outlook is at times open to others, and at other times closed?      

Though the Middle East is a region where one major religion prevails, it is replete with inner divisions visible on the landscape like potholes, ethnically, culturally, socially, and economically. Moreover, some cleavages are characterized by extreme imbalances that are no where else as intense as in the Middle East. Not only have those differences contributed to alienation, instability, and subversion, but to outright political suppression and war. It is not surprising to find that behind those disturbances there are distortions in the distribution of respect, social justice, and use of coercion to silence dissent. What starts as an abuse of the “other,” usually a minority of sorts, rapidly takes the form of general abuse and self-corruption.                        

The interesting point, however, remains the same whether we are listening to Socrates, Taylor, or Ibn Qayyem al-Jawziyah: injustice does not abuse the victimized party only but the perpetrator’s character as well!        

Let me go briefly over a few tangible cases to show how recognition of difference goes a long way to address the Arab desolate condition and to pinpoint Arab responsibility. Consider the hopelessly victimized Iraq today for a brief moment and try to venture beyond the most recent abuses committed by re-colonization. It will become clear that Iraq after 2003 may not have happened had the Iraqis respected the principle of difference amongst themselves, or had there been justice and fairness in the governing process. What else can one consider Saddam’s Baath party other than an aggressive agency corrupted by its own tyranny whose destructive course makes no difference between victim and oppressor?

Have the Arabs, after all that had happened to them, appreciated this lesson any better than others? The evidence seems to point in the direction of a grey area. Consider the League of Arab States. Its members were supposed to lay down enlightened principles commensurate with their high culture for maintaining regional stability and rule of law; instead they opted to protect their own regimes at any expense. Even one of the promising principles they had adopted, such as respecting each others’ sovereignty, was misconstrued to serve as a protecting shield against externally initiated corrective action. As a collective body, the League of Arab States showed incredible insensitivity to corrupt and oppressive regimes of member states and toward the violation of human and civil rights. It is shocking how some of its members had exalted in the foolhardy adventures and ruthless acts of Saddam Hussein when he was in power, especially at times of success in his oppression. There was hardly any censorship or warning to the Iraqi, Libyan, Syrian, or Sudanese tyrants for the crimes they committed against their own and other people. Moreover, the League abdicated its responsibility for regional stability to foreign powers. The same regional organization today, three years after the American invasion of Baghdad and sixteen years after Iraqi troops were chased out of Kuwait, still gives approval, support, and comfort to Arab governments that oppress their own people and sometimes others as well. How else is one to understand the League’s tepid, if not silent reaction to suppression, violation of human rights, and extensive suffering in the Sudan?       

Does not Arab culture and Islam uphold the principles of tolerance and justice for all? Does not violation of justice and tolerance constitute a self-inflicted harm, distrust, and dissolution of community?  Of course Islamic culture does, and it would be trivial of us to try to prove it here. One relevant lesson is clear: abuse committed by some Arab regimes is a reflection of corrupt and unprincipled leaders as well as of tolerance of abuse.

The gap between some Arab regimes and the ideals of their culture is a gaping one, and the victims are their own people.           

Are Arabs responsible then for their misfortunes? By and large they have not shown a mastery of the necessary skills or enlightened public spirit to enable them to cross the turbulent waters of rapid socio-economic change and globalization. Dissipation of their energy in wasteful and misguided ideological obscurantism has added to the plight of poverty, violence, and inept governments. All these missteps and distractions take them away from such virtues in their culture such as tolerance, rule of law, justice, and progress. The tilt by contemporary Arabs toward the contextual can be characterized by parochial attitudes shorn of the cognate link with the universal orientation that ethically elevates our world today.

The spirit of liberation does not spring from negation or violence, but from the will to rise up to challenges coming from the best in one’s own culture, and the best in Arab and Muslim culture is congruent with a humanism that can stand the vicissitudes of time and place.    
     

Conclusion

In conclusion, I have been trying to spell out a narrative of two different modes of thought, universalism and contextualism, in relation to the currently turbulent cultural and political encounters between the West and the Muslim world. As we have seen, each one of these modes of thought has its distinct origin and consequences. Each partakes of the quality of the other: the universal mode of San Francisco that defies topography can occur only under conditions of advanced technology; it is thus the product of its context. The particularistic mode of Shwayr that accommodated nature was the most rational option under conditions of limited material and technological resources. Its contextual bent is associated with a rational option of universal relevance. It is a connective relationship that governs our perceptions of diversity and polarity. Context checks the harsh and rigid judgmental tendencies of universalism, and universalism checks the parochialism of the contextual. In much the same way, the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, I have tried to show, lends itself to a comparable synthesis of the universal and contextual. I hope that you see that cultural issues can be discussed using the same vernacular regardless of time and place and no matter how entrenched diversity and pluralism in the modern world.                      

I am not in a position to set priorities for anyone, but I can posit a reminder that which ever path is taken, some related consequences will follow. The returns depend on the wisdom of practice. Under the uniformity principle pursued by President Bush, context was ignored and therefore his path proved to be dangerous and costly. On the other hand, the parochial bent in the conduct of the Arab League and Muslims in general has lacked universal relevance. Both narrow and tunnel vision courses have led to a dead end. Though each actor in the public arena has his own reasons for his particular conduct, by the day’s end one gets home safely, the other does not.