Saturday, September 6, 2014

Staycation reading

So, I've been on leave this week, at home, kicking back, so what have I been reading? Trashy chick-lit? Re-reading old faves like Georgette Heyer and Terry Pratchett? Some thrilling page-turner by Stephen King? Not quite...

I've just finished reading Laying down the sword: Why we can't ignore the Bible's violent verses, by Philip Jenkins. It's written partly as a response to the constant casting of Islam as a violent religion, and the Qu'ran as a violent text. As Jenkins points out, the Qu'ran contains nothing as atrocious as the genocide of the Canaanites by the Hebrews described in Deutoronomy and Joshua, a genocide that is a commandment from God.

From this, and other similarly revolting passages, Jenkins considers various issues, the key one being how Jews and Christians throughout history have interpreted, justified, or excused those passages. A common interpretation or reading has been symbolic - that Canaanites and other condemned groups represent the inner struggle against our own sinful natures (sic). A common justification has been probably along the lines of God's response to Job - roughly, it is not for humanity to question God. A common excuse is that things were generally far more barbaric in those days - this sort of warfare was not unusual. Jenkins lists many other examples - these passages have been troubling people for a very long time.

To respond to the examples I give, the first has probably the most going for it. The second is impossible, really. And the third is wrong - complete extermination of enemy groups including women, children, and livestock was not common practice.

The other issue Jenkins considers is fact that on a practical level, these verses have ceased to be a problem for the average believer because they have largely fallen out of use. The lectionary, the prescribed Bible readings for each Sunday throughout the year, pretty much ignores those books. Exodus is the most used, with the dramatic Moses narrative. Also, when we do read them, various common psychological defenses kick in to dampen down their true horror. And at least in the West, those verses have pretty much ceased to have any moral authority at all. They are not used to justify current wars or crusades.

Past wars and campaigns are a different matter of course. This book was painful to read, both because I had to really consider the horror of those genocidal passages in a way I hadn't before (see the para above), and also because I had to read about the ways they had been used throughout history, to modern times, when politically expedient. Particularly in colonial times, and their potential to be used again remains.

One of the biggest issues raised (for those who are religious) is what all this means for the idea of scriptural authority. One of the interesting points Jenkins makes is that it is often religious teachings that make these passages so horrific and pose us such problems. Christian examples are the parables of the Good Samaritan, and command to love your neighbour and turn the other cheek. Judaism and Islam have equivalent commands to mercy. Faced with how to reconcile these contradictory types of passages, most people recognise compassion as the higher call. For which thank God.

I was pleased to see Jenkins use my favourite passage in the New Testament, Matthew 15: 21-28, in which Jesus initially rejects the request of a Canaanite woman to heal her daughter, but changes his mind when she challenges him. I love the idea of Jesus being open to experience and learning from the people he meets, but I did shock some people once when I expounded this idea - the idea that Jesus could be wrong was clearly disturbing and they preferred the idea that Jesus was 'just testing her'. Jenkins agrees with my interpretation, and emphasises that she is described as a Canaanite, indicating a reconciliation between the two groups.

I highly recommend this book, and I hope to do a sermon on these ideas if I get a chance. It is written from a religious viewpoint, Christian in this instance, but if you aren't religious yourself, I still recommend it. Atheist writers such as Mark Twain and Richard Dawkins underline the violent side of religion, so this gives a very thoughtful perspective on how believers deal with these texts, and it has to be said that a lot of the ways people have done so are pretty feeble (another painful part for me to read). I also found the discussion about the influence of secular and non-Muslim terrorist tactics on modern Islamic terrorists, and the whole relationship between Islam, the Qu'ran, and violence very informative.






Monday, September 1, 2014

That Book

How do I talk about Dirty Politics? I really wanted to read it, so much so that we downloaded the Kindle app and downloaded the electronic version. David and I read it concurrently on the iPad - I'd read it at night and first thing in the morning, he'd read it after I went to sleep and during the day.

This is probably going to be quite an emotional post, because I'm not sure I can be that objective. Part of that is because reading material written by Cameron Slater, in any context, is a serious blow to my faith in humanity. I believe in civility and the right of everyone to be treated with respect. I dislike foul language, racism, and misogyny. I dislike intolerant rants. I had read a post on Whale Oil before - can't remember why - but realised quickly that this was not a blog I wanted to follow. Leaving aside Hager's book and clinging to Voltaire's statement 'I disagree with what you say, but will defend to the death your right to say it', I will concede that my feeling that anyone who associates with Slater anyway should be ashamed of themselves is unfair. But my gut reaction is that if his blog reflects his true feelings, he is a horrible human being. If it doesn't, then he is still a horrible human being, because the world does not need that kind of venom.

What about taking into consideration the content of the book? Well, let's see. Being a gun for hire, taking money from people intent on protecting their profits, and damn the fact that you make money off things that kill people, like tobacco and alcohol. The hounding of a young woman to tell details of her affair (with Len Brown), and leaving her to the wolves once she does. The attacking of people supposedly on their own side - i.e. National Party members not sufficiently rabid.

And of course, the collusion between senior cabinet ministers and Whale Oil, which was clearly used as the attack dog of the party. I find it amazing that Judith Collins has been cut loose by emails which only report on her actions and attitudes, rather than the emails written by her that show gross misconduct. Of course to do that would give Hager's book too much credibility. And John Key? I definitely think there is a case to answer. As leader he has to choose between looking complicit or incompetent. If he didn't know what was going on, why the hell didn't he?

I have to confess to an extremely uncharitable pleasure in watching those involved squirm. Which only proves the point that dirty politics taint everyone involved. I have some sympathy with those voters repulsed by the whole lot of them, and politics in general. Who wants to get involved?

Well I'm sorry, but you still have to. If you pull out, no matter how noble your motives, think about who you're leaving the field to. If the debate over That Book turns your stomach, concentrate on your local candidates. Or focus on the parties' policies. Choose a issue, or issues, close to your heart - climate change, child poverty, science funding, arts funding - read the different parties' policies on that issue and vote according to which policy you prefer. Stay engaged at some level.

I'm quite involved in this campaign, in fact on Thursday for 2 hours I will be phoning complete strangers and asking them if they are enrolled to vote. But this isn't so much a result of Dirty Politics, but a documentary film I saw a couple of months ago - Pray the Devil Back to Hell, the story of the Liberian women who stood up and said 'enough' to Charles Taylor, and the warlords he was fighting. At one point during stalled peace talks, they stormed the discussion hall and refused to let delegates out. Told by one security guard that they were disturbing the peace, one leader threatened to strip (apparently in West Africa it is a curse to see your mother naked). Once Taylor was ousted, and elections scheduled, they worked hard to educate people about the elections and the candidates. They were instrumental in the election of the first African female president, Ellen Johnson Sirleaf.

Those women were so staunch. They made me proud to be a woman. They also made me decide that if they could risk death to stand up for what they wanted and believed in, I could do a bit of phoning, door knocking, and pamphlet delivering to stand up for what I believe in. And unlike the women of Liberia, I'm lucky enough to be a position to vote on issues that are more nuanced than 'Please stop killing and raping people'.