My facebook newsfeed has been buzzing with youtube video posts from Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert's recent "Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear" on the National Mall this past week. It was interesting to watch Stewart's speech - I had never really seen him that serious (scattered, naturally, with comedic relief) about rifts in American society, about the politics of fear, reasserting pluralistic and "liberal" values.
A few days after watching the video, it comes to mind again as I write my essay for Professor Pamela Radcliff on "Communism and Fascism 1919-1945." A few points I want to make regarding the emergence of extreme political movements in times of political/economic/social crisis.
Just for the sake of argument, you could claim that our contemporary world is seeing a lot of the same crises as inter-war Europe. "Endemic" small-scale warfare, economic depression/mind-blowing unemployment rates, violence (terrorism, drug warfare, warfare in general), politicians without solutions...obviously when you add a lot of nuance to these issues it's not the same as interwar europe. But just for the sake of argument, let's take our two anachronistic comparisons and play with the idea that we could learn something from the societies before us about how to deal with crises of meaning.
One thing Radcliff mentioned in lecture the other day really hit home with me: citizens in post-war Britain, despite all of the issues it was facing, the questioning of liberal capitalist values fundamental to their political and economic structure, believed in the system. Trief to effect change within the democratic, parliamentary process.
This type of "revolutionary" sentiment stands in stark contrast to the Bolsheviks, whose radicalist ideology was about challenging all the fundamental structures of liberalism and capitalism. The governance they put in place after the revolution is a new story, but anyways they were (mm...some were) about changing everything.
I think Americans today exist firmly in the former camp, completely and totally unwilling to undermine fundamental social and political structures, and I think this could be bad or good...I really don't know! I'm leaning towards good, but the radicalist strand in me says f it all and let's restart. At least in a long conversation with my best friends I might let me commie side emerge and talk about starting a real revolution.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Thoughts on Fulbright Application...
My Fulbright application is due SOON! (Sept 13th). I've posted some of my musings below about what I'm looking at here....
A few years ago, while conducting research on the King-Crane Commission (see http://kimberlyjeanang.blogspot.com/2009/12/changing-views-on-self-determination.html), I kept stumbling on correspondence between the American commission members and some teachers at American colleges in the Near East. Deans at Robert College and at the Constantinople College for Women were not only important sources of knowledge about the Ottoman Empire, its politics and culture, but also the homes of pro-American sentiment. The Turkish Wilsonian League, for example, was established by the faculty of these colleges. Famous pro-American voices (such as Halide Edib Adivar and Ahmet Emin Yalman) were closely tied to these schools. I've been exploring this interest a lot more, and now trying to develop it into a cohesive project for my Fulbright application. Here is a sort-of-summary below.
I'm looking at the relationship between American protestant missionaries in the late Ottoman Empire-Early Republic, about 1850-1930. The main outposts of the missionaries are their schools, spread throughout Anatolia, the Arab provinces, and of course in Istanbul. Here, Robert College and the Constantinople College for Women are my primary subjects of study.
A few years ago, while conducting research on the King-Crane Commission (see http://kimberlyjeanang.blogspot.com/2009/12/changing-views-on-self-determination.html), I kept stumbling on correspondence between the American commission members and some teachers at American colleges in the Near East. Deans at Robert College and at the Constantinople College for Women were not only important sources of knowledge about the Ottoman Empire, its politics and culture, but also the homes of pro-American sentiment. The Turkish Wilsonian League, for example, was established by the faculty of these colleges. Famous pro-American voices (such as Halide Edib Adivar and Ahmet Emin Yalman) were closely tied to these schools. I've been exploring this interest a lot more, and now trying to develop it into a cohesive project for my Fulbright application. Here is a sort-of-summary below.
I'm looking at the relationship between American protestant missionaries in the late Ottoman Empire-Early Republic, about 1850-1930. The main outposts of the missionaries are their schools, spread throughout Anatolia, the Arab provinces, and of course in Istanbul. Here, Robert College and the Constantinople College for Women are my primary subjects of study.
There are various dynamics that I'm interested in. One, RC and CCW are "lumped" in the scholarship discussing foreign schools and missionary schools in this period. In doing so, the diversity among the foreign and missionary school directives and practices are lost. Scholars skip over this diversity and instead focus on the Ottoman perception of all "foreign/missionary" institutions as a threat and impetus for reform. I think the subject demands a new perspective which delineates the differences among the foreign schools, and elucidates WHY and HOW these schools (though very different) came to be seen as a collective threat to the Ottoman identity and government.
Secondly, I think the school can also be viewed as a diplomatic outpost for the Americans, especially in the period where there is not American consul or open embassy. The school appears in diplomatic correspondence in such functions - it hosts American emissaries, is the almost exclusive source of American understanding of the near east (disseminated through various missionary newspapers), and in a number of diplomatic mini-crises, Robert College is a much more effective negotiator than the embassy. I don't know what "aim" I have here, but it's just...you know, a thing of interest.
Third, I am interested in the cultural, intellectual and political impact of education at RC and CCW on its students. A lot of scholarship has talked about this, but sort of without a way or system of measuring it (sources are a key problem here...). But I thinkkkkkk I would like to engage in a study of the student organizations - probably looking at this with more of a sociological and anthropological perspective on identity formation. This is relevant to point 1, in that it would tell us whether or not education at these schools actually has a subversive effect on Ottoman identity formation.
Anyways that's about what I've got so far..."in short." As you can tell its a bit scattered still, but I would really, realllyyy love your input. Does this sound interesting to you? Do you think the Fulbright would find it interesting? Do you know anyone studying this topic, and if so how could I get in touch with them? great, wonderful, I love you, thank you.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Why History
I'm often asked by my "modern-world loving friends" why I study history. What's the point, why don't I do political science or something. Moreover, I'm asked, "why the middle east?" I generally deflect these questions by offering the glazed over standard answer: "Oh, I really like history," or "It's been my favorite class since the 8th grade" or "I like the teachers in my department." All this is true, and is generally the extent to which I humor my question-asker in the cocktail party setting. But as you may have noticed, I've begged the question. So let me expound on the the reason I spend so much time in the past...and in a region so remote to my own upbringing.
First, Why History? Because it offers us the opportunity to understand that the world could have, and can, be different than it is now. History reduces the biggest decisions of all time, made by larger-than-life characters, into the specific actions of men and women. In doing so, it reveals to us the vulnerability of humanity to itself. It reminds us of the power of the individual in history, and thus the individual in the present and future.
I had this conversation once along the pathway down to Bogazici University. My friend Tyler characterized my need to constantly be reminded that the world actually does change as a direct consequence of humanity as perhaps suggestive of some deep insecurities about human power. While I don't deny this, my liking for history isn't limited to a pathological self-satisfying study of (wo)man's significance. There is much more to the practice of history that I appreciate.
History is a very nice blend of the humanities and sciences. (This is not to say that other fields, say Anthropology or Sociology are not. Actually I really like these fields, too. And draw a lot of inspiration from them). But in history, you get to look at evverryyyythinnnggg as a source. Biographies, memoirs, court records, tombstones...you name it! Friday, I head to Stanford's Hoover Institute to review two sets of memoirs as the "big kickoff" to my senior thesis research. I'm very excited.
Part Two, "Why the Middle East" will have to be saved for later.
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