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Reflections:  Aboriginals in Canada and Two Possible Meanings of “Discrimination” 

“So there is certainly no lack of activity in our little boat, but is there any purpose? Is the tall figure who may or may not be the Spirit of Haida Gwaii leading us, for we are all in the same boat, to a sheltered beach beyond the rim of the world as he seems to be, or is he lost in a dream of his own dreamings? The boat moves on, forever anchored in the same place.” (my emphasis: words of Bill Reid on his own sculpture, The Spirit of Haida Gwaii)

And there was always the wind ….. and sometimes …… sometimes ….. the wind brought good news, and sometimes …… sometimes ….. the wind brought evil.” (my emphasis: Taken from the first of Inuit Legends, CBC Aboriginal, “Inuit Journey”: link)

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 Spirit of the Haida Gwai

The verb “to discriminate” has come to have a primary negative definition. Basically, very roughly, it means “to unfairly treat a person or group of people differently from the rest.“ Of course, for the negative definition to succeed, the emphasis must be placed in the “unfairly” or “unjustly”. This is the reason why we speak of “anti-discrimination”; we wish to correct a wrong. But, for sure, there is no negative discrimination simply by the fact of there being mere difference: that Canadians see themselves as radically different from Americans does not imply discrimination in the negative sense. Thus, difference does not always lead to discrimination; but difference which is the result of a certain grave and prolonged injustice, surely does. Slavery in the USA is one blatant example, the treatment of Aboriginals in Canada a parallel one.

The history of Canada´s First Nations is surely the result of an unjust and forced differentiation. It is not just based on the now oft-repeated problematic phrase “we are all different”; it is more based on the idea that “we are so different, that you and yours must cease to be.” If lucky enough to be spared death, the “other” must still be so assimilated that this “other” becomes nothing but a crippled “us”. Such historical triumphs are truly essential defeats. In this regard, educating ourselves about the history, the nature and the consequences of the current discriminatory relationship we have with Aboriginals is but the first step in ameliorating the pervasive and noxious effects multiple non-Aboriginal policies have had  over their destiny, their sense of self-worth, their linguistic identity, their territorial self-sufficiency and their potential for political empowerment (see latest interview by Judge John Reilly in CBC’s The Current: link, and very important previous interview as well). This includes, as we shall see, most poignantly the ESL setting. Why so? Because the language issue is perhaps at the core of the mode of forced assimilation, even annihilation which Aboriginals in Canada have had to face. Now, before proceeding and in order to be clear as to what we mean by Aboriginals, it is important to note that in 2011, 1,400,685 people in Canada identified themselves as Aboriginal: “4.3 percent of the total population of Canada: 851,560 were First Nations, 451,790 were Métis, 59,440 were Inuit. (p. 8 of the excellent First People’s Guide for Newcomers created by the City of Vancouver and which should be replicated in each Province and downloaded by all ESL teachers and students: link .)

Fortunately though, “to discriminate” does not possess this negative meaning alone. To discriminate CAN in fact be liberated from a sense of injustice, from the permanent presence of the pain –an absolutely understandable, yet unimaginable, pain– that accompanies prolonged suffering from wrong-doing. Why is this positive definition so important? For an identity built on an injury seems to us to remain unable to move; a healthy identity necessarily must somehow move beyond mere negation of itself and the injurer. An identity founded solely on the hatred of the occupier seems to us destined to fail. In this sense, it is of great importance to emphasize that “to discriminate” is also defined as the mark of someone who can “perceive the distinguishing or peculiar features of a given thing/topic”. A dictionary provides the following example: “the human eye can discriminate between very slight gradations of color”. Such a skill is truly unique, it may perhaps be among the highest. For it takes great sensitivity, imagination and most importantly, intelligence, to be able to see the whole of reality in all its color gradations. In photographic terms, few can see the shades of gray; few are like Ansel Adams.

Unfortunately, in the case of our relation to Aboriginals, this more positive sense of discrimination is for the most part lacking. We non-Aboriginals fail to see even what appears most evident. In the case of Canada’s First Nations, and Aboriginals generally, our eyes continue to be blind to a kind of devastating differentiation which we ourselves (the non-Aboriginals) have initiated and of which we continue to be part of. In these brief pages we seek to begin to shake ourselves free –so far as possible– from such damaging presuppositions, specially as they appear in the field of ESL. (more…)

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Educación,  interculturalidad y estudios del lenguaje.

(Breve ensayo para posible concurso académico.)

Aunque son múltiples los senderos que podemos seguir para intentar esclarecer, así sea tan sólo inicialmente, la complejísima relación entre educación, interculturalidad y los estudios de lenguaje, escogeré enfocarme en aquellos senderos que he recorrido en mi proceso de aprendizaje investigativo. Pero antes de entrar de lleno en ellos deseo enfatizar que, dada mi experiencia vital integral, resulta claro que cualquier investigación de la tríada educación-cultura-lenguaje se verá infinitamente enriquecida  —y cobrará un sentido de realidad y veracidad particulares—- si se ha tenido la fortuna y la dedicación para integrar en la vida propia los siguientes cuatro elementos que giran en torno a la temática del lenguaje,  y que inevitablemente van más allá de la simple experiencia académica.

Estos cuatros aspectos que considero claves para una real comprensión de las dinámicas lingüísticas son: 1) el hecho mismo de aprender varios idiomas, lo que nos enfrenta directamente con las dinámicas del aprendizaje y sus particularidades individuales (en mi caso, aprendizaje del inglés, francés y griego antiguo; para no mencionar los desarrollos artísticos paralelos), 2) vivir por largos periodos de tiempo en la cultura misma dentro de la cual el lenguaje cobra su dinámica vital en tanto ”forma de vida” (en mi caso, ciudadano colombo-canadiense con títulos en ambos países y largos periodos de vida en sus diversas culturas, la latina, la anglosajona y la francesa de Québec), 3) el haber podido realizar una multiplicidad de lecturas académicas correspondientes a la temática en cuestión (en mi caso, i) la concepción de la dinámica lingüística a partir de la obra de Charles Taylor, y ii) la concepción —altamente crítica de la filosofía tayloriana— de lo que es una educación liberal fundada en la filosofía política clásica a partir de la reinterpretación de la vida socrática realizada por Leo Strauss y su estudiante Thomas Pangle),  y  finalmente, 4) la posibilidad diaria de enseñar/traducir  el idioma que buscamos comprender en su real y cambiante complejidad (en mi caso, enseñanza del idioma inglés por más de una década, y traductor oficial tanto en Colombia como en Canadá).

A mi modo de ver, al poder incorporar estos cuatros elementos vitales y conceptuales, logramos tener mejores herramientas ——herramientas más humildes y autocríticas——- para intentar siquiera entrar a considerar el enigma que es el lenguaje humano y su relación con la educación. Sobretodo, con respecto a la educación en el sentido griego liberal de las cosas y su postura crítica frente a la dominante, constantemente aplaudida y siempre solicitada sobre-especialización; sobresegura sí, pero muchas veces irrelevante y vacua. Porque parece que cada vez sabemos más en detalle, pero de lo menos relevante. Y porque es claro que la comprensión del lenguaje es inevitablemente, particularmente, el camino privilegiado para la auto-comprensión.

Dados los anteriores elementos quisiera simplemente enfocar la líneas de investigación que de hecho he realizado con respecto al lenguaje hasta estos momentos (¡interrumpidos por la aparición de la enfermedad y su particular lenguaje!), lineamientos sobretodo fundamentados ——a la manera de Aristóteles—— en la idea de que el ser humano es un ser, en parte, por naturaleza político. Es lo político lo que abre, sin lugar a duda, y de manera privilegiada, la particular triada educación-interculturalidad-lenguaje. O como lo dice el programa mismo de su facultad: “lo anterior nace del convencimiento de que solo a través del lenguaje se ejercen los derechos civiles y sin su manejo adecuado el ciudadano estará siempre sometido a la exclusión. “

¿Qué ejemplos dinámicos de interculturalidad podríamos mencionar, hablando concretamente de las investigaciones ya realizadas? Al menos, y de manera muy sumaria, los siguientes cuatro: (more…)

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LENGUAJE(S), IDENTIDAD Y DIFERENCIA EN LA

TEORÍA POLÍTICA DE JEAN-JACQUES ROUSSEAU

 

I. INTRODUCCIÓN

La visión del lenguaje en la teoría política de Jean-Jacques Rousseau no sólo es rica en contenido, sino además central para la comprensión de nuestra presente crisis de legitimidad. Para Rousseau el lenguaje es parte constitutiva de lo que hemos, históricamente, llegado a ser. Es a través del lenguaje que clarificamos y articulamos críticamente nuestra relación de autenticidad personal, la relación de solidaridad con los demás en el ámbito político, y por último, la relación con la naturaleza como fuente de expresión moderna. Al entrever tales relaciones podemos llegar a comprender, así sea parcialmente, lo que hemos sido, somos, y podemos llegar a ser.

Charles Taylor ha argumentado que Rousseau es uno de los principales inauguradores de una tradición política característicamente moderna, a saber, aquella fundada sobre la dignidad egalitaria basada a su vez en la idea de que todos los humanos somos dignos de respeto. Esto se ejemplifica en la noción de que “la clave para Rousseau de una república libre parece ser una exclusión de cualquier diferencia de roles” (*1). Dicha perspectiva se encuentra en tensión con la tradición contemporánea de una política de la diferencia, tradición crítica del proyecto de homogeneización y pretendida neutralidad del liberalismo en una de sus variantes. Sin embargo, como veremos, la posición de Rousseau es significativamente mucho más compleja. Contiene ella múltiples elementos que sin duda pertenecen al ámbito de lo que se ha llamado una política de la diferencia. Pero ella no deja de estar en tensión con la corriente que Taylor resalta, la de la universalidad egalitaria fundada sobre proyectos comunes de una voluntad general altamente indiferenciada.

Esta dialéctica se da primeramente ya que para Rousseau “las lenguas se forman naturalmente sobre las necesidades de los hombres; cambian y se alteran según los cambios de esas mismas necesidades” (EOL, XX). Estas necesidades, y las pasiones humanas más complejas, no sólo se transforman históricamente sino igualmente en relación con condiciones espaciales específicas. Por ello los lenguajes mismos están colocados dentro de diferentes dimensiones espacio-temporales (EOL VIII). Es así como el lenguaje que compartimos no sólo es constitutivo de que lo hemos llegado a ser dentro de múltiples sistemas políticos, sino que además la presencia de dicho lenguaje nuestro, y no de otro, afecta radicalmente la manera en que percibimos tanto comunidades lingüísticas existentes diferentes a la nuestra, como comunidades ya extintas. Además, dicha pluralidad es igualmente clave, no sólo para la comprensión de la fortaleza de la música en la visión rousseauiana y su relación con la política del lenguaje, sino también, como veremos, para la clarificación y redefinición de las múltiples familias de lenguaje que conforman nuestro lenguaje político moderno tal y como aparecen entrelazados en el Contrato Social (CS). Por ello el mundo de Rousseau, para bien, o muy probablemente para mal, está constituido por una multiplicidad de modos de experienciar; en germen presenta una política de la diferencia. Rousseau “ha absorbido los lenguajes del pasado …… para dar voz a un nuevo lenguaje” (Starob, 323).

Sin embargo esta multiplicidad no ha de llevarnos necesariamente a una concepción radicalmente relativista de la realidad política. Esto es así ya que subyacendo a la diversidad de formaciones lingüísticas (y la paralela diferenciación de formaciones socio-políticas y de modos de producción (EOL IX)) yace la universalidad, a la que todos podemos acceder, de la voz de la naturaleza. La pluralidad es en parte el resultado de una serie de eventos catastróficos en la naturaleza que hicieron posible el desarrollo de la potencialidad inherente hacia el perfección que es característica de los seres humanos desde su origen. No cabe duda alguna que aquella condición primigenia la hemos perdido para siempre (si es que en verdad existió alguna vez), pero independientemente de lo des-naturalizados e inauténticos que hayamos llegado a ser, la voz de la naturaleza todavía habla, a través de, y para todos. Igualmente participamos de ella universalmente. Rousseau se jacta de ser precisamente él quien en particular profundiza en escuchar dicha voz; es ella su única recompensa (DCA, 2). También el Contrato Social va más allá de la simple relatividad facilista pues nos abre a un ideal política por medio del cual se pueden juzgar formaciones y organizaciones sociales existentes (Starob, 301). Y aparte de la existencia de este ideal, la misma pluralidad de lenguajes que encontramos analizados allí está claramente jerarquizada; hecho que nos permite hablar de un respeto por la diferencia, más no de una tolerancia del perspectivismo simplista.

Para llevar a cabo esta investigación, que para Rousseau involucra un recuperar y un re-escuchar la historia de nuestra caída, propongo dividir este ensayo en cinco secciones que, aunque separadas, permanecen íntimamente interrelacionadas. Para dilucidar las primeras cuatro retomaré algunos de los puntos centrales que se hayan tanto en el Discurso sobre el origen y los fundamentos de la desigualdad entre los hombres (DOD), como en el Ensayo sobre el origen de las lenguas (EOL). Acerca de pocos otros textos podría uno decir que la comprensión del uno requiere de una cuidadosa lectura del otro. La mayor diferencia entre ellos radica en su énfasis. Mientras que el DOD coloca la problemática del lenguaje dentro del más amplio tópico del desarrollo histórico de la desigualdad politico-económica, el EOL por su parte invierte los papeles colocando al lenguaje, y su relación con la expresividad musical, al frente.

La afinidad entre ambas obras es impresionante. En primer lugar, y éste es el primer punto a tratar en este ensayo, ambos hablan directamente de la problemática de los orígenes. Al hacerlo nos presentan estos textos con un “método” para la comprensión del fenómeno de la génesis. En segundo lugar, y este será el tema de las tres siguientes secciones, ambos colocan al lenguaje, y la paralela formación de estructuras socio-políticas correspondientes, dentro de un marco histórico que en su movimiento trágico es representable de mejor manera, no como el espiral hegeliano ascendente, sino como una espiral en caída (*2). Como humanos habitábamos en silencio en la prehistoria escuchando la voz de la naturaleza; nuestra historia termina en un nuevo silencio, pero irónicamente en medio de la existencia de una pluralidad de lenguajes convencionales radicalmente empobrecidos (EOL XX) (*3). Además, si el estado natural era uno de igualdad en términos de libertad natural y capacidad de perfeccionamiento, nuestro estado actual civilizado lleva a una igualdad, pero en cadenas: “el hombre ha nacido libre pero por todas partes está encadenado” (CS, I *1).

Este pesimismo radical no escapa tampoco al Contrato Social, pero como señalaré en la quinta sección, Rousseau retoma los plurales lenguajes políticos de la modernidad ——-el republicano, el del contrato social y el del interés—— para comprender nuestra compleja situación. De nuevo la pluralidad será desligada del relativismo gracias a la primacía de uno de estos lenguajes, el republicano. Para Rousseau la salud del cuerpo político, que de todas maneras esta destinado a fallecer, se haya sólo en proyectos comunes dirigidos por una voluntad general que supere facciones conflictivas. En caso contrario, es decir, “cuando la relación social está rota en todos los corazones, cuando el más vil interés se adorna descaradamente con el nombre del bien público, entonces la voluntad general se vuelve muda” (CS, IV *1). La pluralidad lingüística puede entonces terminar simplemente enmudeciendo y ensordeciendo.

II. EL LENGUAJE DE LOS ORÍGENES

La búsqueda de orígenes es un tema central que encontramos en particular en el DOD y el EOL. Una primera reacción a dicho proyecto podría bien ser de sospecha. Esto es así ya que podría ser un proyecto confundido que simplemente busca escapar de las exigencias de la presente realidad, conformándose con la tranquilidad de una inalcanzable “época dorada”; una época de ensueños en el pasado que añoramos incesantemente.

Pero Rousseau está muy lejos de tal proyecto ‘romántico’. Para él, muy como en Nietzsche, volcamos la mirada al origen no con el propósito de permanecer en perpetua desesperanza de nuestra presente situación. Por el contrario, es de hecho mirando hacia estos puntos genéticos que podemos llegar a comprender nuestra constitución actual. El presente es problematizado (*1). Por su parte el pasado permanece muerto, pero sus interpretaciones pueden decirnos algo acerca de cómo es que hemos devenido lo que somos.

El que Rousseau está, en primer lugar, no tanto interesado en la veracidad y verificabilidad de su marco metodológico, sino más bien en presentar un diagnóstico crítico de la modernidad, y en segundo lugar, muy interesado en reconocer las dificultades inherentes a dicho proyecto, son dos puntos que están claramente presentadas en el prefacio al DOD:

“pues no es empresa ligera la de separar lo que hay de original y de artificial en la actual naturaleza del hombre y conocer bien un estado que ya no existe, que quizá no ha existido, que probablemente no existirá jamás y del cual, sin embargo, es necesario tener nociones ajustadas a fin de juzgar con exactitud nuestro estado presente” (DOD, 111, mi énfasis) (*2)

Aquí yace la base para una posible interpretación de la intención que Rousseau tiene. Como él nos lo dice, aún cuando el punto original “nunca haya existido”, es sin embargo todavía “necesario” tener claridad, por lo menos, acerca de su posibilidad hipotético-imaginativa. La historia del desarrollo del lenguaje y de las formaciones sociales tiene como fin investigativo el desenmascaramiento de unas acciones encubridoras que han llegado a gobernar la realidad de las modernos estados comerciales. Estos últimos, en comparación a la salud primitiva, han degenerado hasta tal punto que se puede afirmar que “la mayoría de nuestros males son obra nuestra, y los habríamos evitado casi todos si hubiéramos conservado el modo de vida simple, uniforme y solitario que nos prescribió la naturaleza” (DOD, 127). Incluso el método conjetural lleva en sí una carga normativa; la de restituir la virtud en los que para Rousseau son Estados ‘afeminados’ que, a diferencia de los ideales de Esparta y Roma, no conocen las palabras magnanimidad, equidad, templanza, humanidad, y coraje (DCA, 29).

Se podría pensar que hay aquí una contradicción entre la dicotomía, por un lado del “nunca ha existido” tal estado, y por otro su “necesidad” de comprensión. Pero no es así. Lo que Rousseau pretende en su investigación de orígenes no es una verdad objetiva a la medida de la ciencia mecanicista, sino una verdad narrativo-interpretativa. El mismo es el primero en reconocer que está inevitablemente constituido por las relaciones históricas que son características de la modernidad ilustrada. Su visión del pasado por lo tanto necesariamente involucra una especie de proceso selectivo que no puede ser evitado. (*3). Por ello Rousseau nos dice que en referencia al origen del lenguaje “el gran defecto de los europeos es filosofar siempre sobre los orígenes de las cosas según lo que sucede a su alrededor” (EOL, VIII) (*4). Este “problema” está claramente ejemplificado, entre otras, en las diferentes concepciones del estado de naturaleza que otros teóricos políticos han postulado; en particular el de Hobbes en el cual el hombre es un lobo para el hombre. Estos escritores, para Rousseau, simplemente han transferido concepciones modernas como las del orgullo, la avaricia, la arrogancia y la opresión a un estado en donde no existían inicialmente. (DOD, 124 y 147)

Que tanto nuestra perspectiva teórica, como nuestra realidad histórica, son elementos esenciales al determinar qué veremos, y qué es aquello que consideraremos de valor en el mundo y la historia, es claramente explicitado por Rousseau en el EOL donde señala que “para apreciar bien las acciones de los hombres, es necesario tomarlas en todas sus relaciones, y es esto lo que no se nos enseña a hacer. Cuando nos ponemos en el lugar de los demás, no nos volvemos lo que ellos deben ser, sino permanecemos nosotros mismos modificados” (EOL, XI). Apropiadamente nos da entonces un ejemplo de aquello a lo que se refiere. El fanatismo islámico “nos parece siempre risible, porque entre nosotros no tiene voz para hacerse oír” (ibid.). Por lo anterior es claro que existe en Rousseau, metodológicamente hablando, una multiplicidad de modos de experienciar que rompen con una postura homogeneizante y etnocentrista.

Pero lo que es sin duda lo más excitante, o tal vez el error más grande de la concepción rousseauiana de las cosas, es que, aun cuando reconociendo la existencia de una multiplicidad de formas de vida, él todavía es capaz de reunir en sí —–en su originalidad—– el suficiente poder y la suficiente fortaleza para argumentar que su obra transciende la pluralidad en virtud de que está dirigida a la totalidad de seres humanos, todos los cuales estamos constituidos por la voz natural primigenia. Claro, todos la podemos y de hecho la escuchamos de maneras diferentes, allí radica precisamente nuestra autenticidad personal (*5), pero la voz de la naturaleza no distingue entre lenguajes o posiciones teóricas. Uno podría llegar incluso a decir que por su naturaleza rechaza la diferenciación de lenguas. Por ello para Rousseau, aun cuando existe una relatividad de formaciones socio-linguísticas, todavía existe un criterio universal que subyace el poder ser considerado como ser humano bueno. Los humanos son en este sentido iguales irrespectivamente del sitio de origen y de sus conocimientos. Tal vez no entienda tus palabras, pero en tanto agente perfeccionable y sensible que soy, yo puedo dejar de lado las palabras para darme cuenta que comparto en lo que tu eres también. Antes que filósofos somos seres humanos. (DOD, 115). Es sin duda que por ello Rousseau nos dice a todos:

“Oh hombre, de cualquier comarca que seas, cualquiera que sean tus opiniones; he aquí tu historia como yo he creído leerla , no en los libros de tus semejantes —que mienten— sino en la naturaleza, que no miente nunca. Todo lo que proviene de ella será verdadero; no habrá más falsedad que en lo que yo haya podido mezclar de mis cosecha sin quererlo” (DOD, 120-1).

Rousseau no tiene solamente una pseudo-base empírica para su proyecto en la vida de los Amerindios (que sin embargo tampoco son exactamente habitantes del estado de naturaleza pura), sino mucho más importante, él, y cada uno de nosotros si prestamos oído, tenemos la real y tangible inmediatez de nuestro propio y único ser interior (*6). La voz de la naturaleza ha buscado expresarse a través de Rousseau. Pero sin duda tal recuperación, en parte poético-imaginativa, es necesariamente un recuperar adulterado: “Rousseau no puede estar inconsciente de que diciendo que la vida natural es la buena vida (nota; si es que eso es lo que está diciendo), está destruyendo el silencio de la naturaleza, alienándonos de la naturaleza con palabras” (Starob, 303). Recuperamos no la inmediatez de la naturaleza; es más bien la recuperación de la naturaleza a través del estado presente para que, a través de una crítica de este mismo presente, podamos socráticamente conocernos mejor a nosotros mismos, y así no sólo aceptar nuestra encrucijada sino emprender la búsqueda de puentes futuros más allá de todo origen legendario. (DOD 109)

III. ASPECTOS CENTRALES DEL LENGUAJE

Habiendo reseñado algunos de los aspectos centrales de la “metodología” de Rousseau, quisiera ahora examinar brevemente en esta sección, la importancia de considerar al lenguaje como objeto de estudio.

El párrafo que abre el EOL nos da en su brevedad asombrosa cuatro e interrelacionadas razones acerca del por qué debemos estar interesados en el tema del lenguaje. En primer lugar, el habla es la característica que distingue a los seres humanos de todas las demás seres naturales. (*1). Además, cada ser humano particular nace ‘accidentalmente’ dentro de una comunidad lingüística particular; los lenguajes distinguen a los pueblos. En tercer lugar, Rousseau señala que el lenguaje es la primera institución social. Es gracias a la existencia de otros que tiene sentido el lograr el habla; sin la presencia de seres prestos a oírme la posibilidad del lenguaje se hace inconcebible. Finalmente, este párrafo señala que el habla debe su origen tan sólo a causas naturales.

Una relación cuádruple se despliega. Nuestro interés por el lenguaje está motivado por la universalidad del compartir de todos en el lenguaje; incluso en los casos de los gestos, el ser seres lingüísticos nos lleva ya más allá de lo animal. (*2) El toque físico y los gestos yacen, sin duda, a la base de las relaciones interpersonales. Pero si bien el origen de los gestos se funda en las necesidades básicas, a la base del habla encontramos las pasiones morales humanas. El surgimiento del habla, y luego de la escritura, requiere que vayamos más allá de la satisfacción inmediata de las simples necesidades físicas (*3). El habla tiene un poder moral, el de movernos y persuadirnos: “supongamos una situación de dolor perfectamente conocida; al ver a la persona afligida difícilmente nos conmoveremos hasta llorar, pero démosle el tiempo de decir todo lo que siente y pronto estaremos anegados en lágrimas” (EOL, I) (*4). Pero además, este interés por el lenguaje es también particular. Esto es así ya que un grupo de seres históricos dado comparte un lenguaje histórico específico que, comprendido en su contexto, les provee en un sentido amplio con un noción de identidad (*5). El lenguaje también es el medio a través del cual nos hacemos re-conocer por los demás. Para Rousseau, “tan pronto como un hombre fue reconocido por otro como ser que siente, piensa y semejante a él, el deseo o la necesidad de comunicarle su sentimientos y sus pensamientos, le hizo buscar los medios para lograr tal comunicación” (EOL, I). Tal reconocimiento se hace central en el espacio público político. El lenguaje es precisamente el medio de consentimiento contractual; sólo a través de su riqueza, legitimidad y autenticidad se hace posible una verdadera vida política. Igualmente el lenguaje de la elocuencia es central para la vida del ethos republicano; en particular, el legislador debe conocer las pasiones humanas para convencer y persuadir al ciudadano hacia el bien común (CS II, *7). Finalmente el cuarto ángulo que se despliega de este breve párrafo señala el hecho de que la modernidad no puede tomar como dado la perspectiva divina del nacimiento del lenguaje. El lenguaje tiene su origen en eventos naturales, de hecho es en el punto de origen en el que la naturaleza nos hablaba directamente, en nuestra interioridad. Debemos prepararnos no tanto para hablar, como para saber escuchar. Precisamente es esa incapacidad para escuchar la enfermedad terminal de los modernos: “vuestras lenguas débiles no pueden hacerse oír al aire libre, pensáis más en vuestras ganancias que en vuestra libertad, y teméis mucho menos a la esclavitud que a la miseria” (CS, III, *15).

IV. ESTADOS DE NATURALEZA Y PASTORAL Y SUS LENGUAJES

Por estas razones es imperativo mirar el desarrollo histórico del lenguaje y sus correspondientes formaciones sociales. En el origen encontramos a los seres humanos primitivos regidos por la inmediatez (EOL II; DOD 162). Estos humanos originales son completamente autosuficientes, verdaderos solitarios nómadas. Pero no por autónomos en su primitivismo, dejaron de tener ya una tendencia hacia la sociabilidad: “y aun cuando sus semejantes no fuesen para él lo que son para nosotros …… no fueron olvidados en sus observaciones” (DOD, 164). Dado que sus necesidades físicas básicas eran fácilmente saciadas, entonces si algún tipo de comunicación hubiese sido posible en aquella distante época, lo hubiese sido de carácter gesticular. Tanto las pasiones complejas, como el habla son inexistentes pues ni siquiera las uniones familiares han surgido. Somos apasionados por y gracias a otros. Por lo tanto para Rousseau esta realidad de necesidades mínimas lleva a la separación: “Se pretende que los hombres inventaron la palabra para expresar sus necesidades, opinión que me parece insostenible. El efecto natural de las primeras necesidades fue el de separar a los hombres y no el de aproximarlos (EOL, II) (*1). Sin embargo, aunque separados, incluso a este nivel podemos hablar ya de un lenguaje en virtud a la clase de seres que somos. La voz de la naturaleza es un lenguaje universal caracterizado por tres elementos: a) su persuasión que nos conmueve (EOL, IV), b) su fortaleza que logra captar nuestro interés (EOL, I ), y por último, c) su uso intermitente, surge en ocasiones especiales (EOL, II). En este momento de nuestra historia el lenguaje y la naturaleza permanecen indiferenciables pues se hayan ambos entremezclados en nosotros. Y tal armonía se da además porque este periodo está marcado por la ausencia absoluta de la escasez territorial o alimenticia. La concordia reina ya que, aunque para cada individuo es cierto que la naturaleza “ejercita el cuerpo para la fortaleza, la agilidad y la carrera; el alma a la valentía y la astucia; endurece al hombre y lo hace feroz” (EOL, IX, 50), dicha ferocidad surge sólo en casos de autodefensa. Dada la existencia de un extenso bosque primigenio (EOL, IX 38-39 y DOD, 162), entonces la ferocidad era puesta en jaque por las posibilidades del movimiento nómada. Si soy atacado puedo ir a otra lugar y continuar allí mi simple vida de autosuficiencia.

Los humanos primitivos son por ello mismo seres altamente sanos, no comparten lo que para Rousseau es nuestra enfermiza reflexividad (DOD, 129). Su bienestar nace del hecho de que no existe ninguna discrepancia entre la necesidad y el deseo: “el deseo circunscrito por el momento presente nunca excede la necesidad; la necesidad, inspirada por nada más que la naturaleza es satisfecha tan rápidamente que el sentimiento de deseo nunca surge” (Starob, 293; DOD 55). No existe noción alguna de temporalidad, y por ello la totalidad de la historia individual yace en el instante. Consecuentemente no hay previsión, ni mucho menos pensamientos de la propia mortalidad.

Además, el ser primitivo es característicamente a-moral. Los dictados morales requieren de un consenso y del la comprensión de conceptos abstractos tales como los de justicia y responsabilidad. Y dado que dicho acto y dicho lenguaje no es necesario a este nivel, la moralidad no es articulada en su complejidad. Pero sin embargo permanecemos incluso a este nivel, como claramente diferenciables de los animales. A diferencia de los últimos somos seres libres, somos morales en potencia. Los animales aceptan o no por instinto, los humanos, en cambio, lo hacemos únicamente por un acto de libertad. Hasta nuestro más lejano pariente primitivo “se reconoce libre para asentir o resistir; y es en esta conciencia de esta libertad donde se muestra la espiritualidad de su alma” (DOD, 132). Esta libertad no es nada diferente a la expresión de la naturaleza particular de este ser único capaz de escuchar la voz de la naturaleza que no es nada diferente a su voz interior: “ya incluso antes de que el hombre primitivo comience a reflexionar, la naturaleza deja de ser simplemente un problema de condicionamiento físico. No siendo más un irresistible impulso, deviene un lenguaje interno, un lenguaje al que el hombre presta atención porque se habla dentro de él” (Starob, 306). El mayor acto de libertad es pues el de la perfección potencial que escogemos.

El sentimiento de preservación personal está aquí moderado, a diferencia de la concepción hobbesiana, por el sentimiento de la piedad. Es éste un sentimiento que es parte de nuestro corazón y que surge al activarse la imaginación pudiendo por ello colocarnos comparativamente en la posición del otro (EOL IX). Los seres humanos primitivos son seres piadosos; la inmediatez de la voz de la naturaleza es lo que hace que no se lleven a la destrucción mutua: “parece que si estoy obligado a no hacer daño a mi semejante, no es tanto porque sea un ser racional sino porque es un ser sensible” (DOD 115). Y dado que la piedad precede a la reflexión, entonces su universalidad nos lleva más allá de la multiplicidad de lenguajes convencionales; la benevolencia habla en Esperanto. La solidaridad, central para la república, es posible ya que la piedad es una “virtud tanto más universal y tanto más útil al hombre cuanto que ella antecede al uso de toda reflexión” (DOD, 149). Finalmente, los humanos a este nivel están caracterizados por su ocio. Su máxima principal radica, a diferencia de la de las sociedades comerciales, en “no hacer nada (que) es la más fuerte pasión del hombre, después de la de conservarse” (EOL, IX, 52). Rousseau resume de manera hermosa las principales características del hombre primitivo en un pasaje del DOD:

“el arte perecía con el inventor. No había ni educación ni progreso, las generaciones se multiplicaban inútilmente y, partiendo cada uno del mismo punto, los siglos pasaban en toda la rudeza de las primeras edades; la especie era ya vieja y el hombre permanecía siempre niño.” (DOD, 157) (*2)

Dejando un poco de lado la pregunta acerca de cómo pudimos salir de este estado paradisiaco, podemos mirar ahora la segunda etapa de nuestra larga historia; la de la transición hacia la verdadera época del equilibrio, la de las sociedades pastorales-patriarcales (EOL, IX). (*3) A este nivel al lenguaje doméstico han sido incorporados tanto el lenguaje natural interior como el gesticular. Hemos sido des-naturalizados, pero no completamente civilizados. El DOD nos ofrece una descripción narrativa: “fue ésta la época de la primera revolución que conformó el establecimiento y la distinción de las familias y que introdujo un tipo de propiedad, de las que probablemente nacieron gran número de querellas (166). (*4). Aunque existía un cierto tipo de propiedad ——no la misma propiedad privada que Rousseau analizará posteriormente siguiendo a Locke—— todavía seguía existiendo suficiente tierra para desplazarse fácilmente en caso de necesidad. Es gracias a esto que se puede decir que en este momento “por todas partes reinaba un estado de guerra, y toda la tierra estaba en paz” (EOL, XI, 46). Rousseau mismo se cuestiona acerca de cómo pudimos emerger de tal condición feliz:

“Supongamos una perpetua primavera sobre la tierra; supongamos por todas partes agua, ganado, pastizales; supongamos a los hombres que salen de manos de la naturaleza … no imagino cómo habrían renunciado jamás a su vida aislada y pastoral tan conveniente a su indolencia natural, para imponerse sin necesidad la esclavitud, los trabajos y las miserias inseparables del estado social” (EOL, IX, 52)

¿Cómo se rompe tal equilibrio, tal paz universal?

Para Rousseau, aparte de múltiples catástrofes naturales, surge lo que es una verdadera catástrofe humana. Con el paso de los siglos nos hicimos, poco a poco, más y más dependientes de los demás. Ya incluso en la etapa patriarcal, con el surgimiento de un mayor ocio, tuvimos nuevas comodidades desconocidas; fueron ellas “el primer yugo que se impusieron sin pensar en ello y la primera fuente de males” (DOD, 167). Una de las principales necesidades novedosas surgió de nuestra naturaleza pasional. Si antes “l’amour de soi meme” era natural y nos daba independencia, ahora “l’amour propre” convencional nos hace compararnos constantemente con los demás. Nuestro orgullo está fuera de nosotros. Pero acerca del valor esta nueva estima a partir del otro, Rousseau continuamente es ambivalente: “es a este interés en hacer hablar de sí mismo, a este furor por distinguirse, (lo) que nos tiene casi continuamente fuera de nosotros, a quien debemos lo que hay de mejor y peor entre los hombres” (DOD 197). Como señala Taylor, Rousseau no simplemente denuncia el valor de la estimación pública, como si lo hacen tanto el cristianismo y estoicismo, como la ética aristocrática que ve en el orgullo la fuente de desigualdades. Para Rousseau el ethos republicano requiere de una suprema actividad de la aparición pública de los virtuosos (Taylor, 49).

Es al investigar el surgimiento de los lenguajes meridionales que se nos revela esta ambivalencia que permea la obra de Rousseau. Señala él cómo en aquellos lugares en donde la escasez de agua era una condición natural “era preciso reuinirse para cavarlos o al menos para ponerse de acuerdo para su uso. Tal debió ser el origen de las sociedades y de las lenguas en los países cálidos” (EOL, IX, 60). Y en aquellos lugares donde abundaba el agua, en hogares rústicos “brilla(ba) el fuego sagrado que lleva al fondo de los corazones el primer sentimiento de la humanidad” (ibid., 56). Nuestras necesidades devienen pues cada vez más complejas, el constante ver al otro hace inevitable el surgimiento del deseo del otro. Lentamente salimos inevitablemente del paraíso del ideal primitivo solitario en donde los encuentros sexuales eran ocasionales. Paulatinamente dejamos para siempre nuestra vida solitaria en que la voz de la naturaleza nos hablaba directamente. Ahora deseamos hablar a y escuchar otro tipo de voz, una voz humana; y mejor aún si ésta es capaz además de dar expresión a la voz de la naturaleza misma, aunque modificada. En un pasaje hermoso Rousseau señala este proceso de interacción:

“el agua se hace imperceptiblemente más necesaria, el ganado tuvo sed más a menudo; se llegaba a prisa y se partía a disgusto … allí se hicieron las primeras fiestas, los pies saltaban de alegría, el gesto diligente ya no bastaba, la voz lo acompañaba con acentos apasionados, el placer y el deseo se hacían sentir simultáneamente. Allí estuvo en fin la verdadera cuna de los pueblos, y del cristal puro de las fuentes surgieron los primeros fuegos de amor” (EOL IX, 61)

La existencia de un nivel pasional bajo, y la presencia de necesidades sencillas, mantenían el equilibrio pseudo-humano de la etapa anterior. Ahora sin duda hemos ido mucho más allá al comenzar el ambiguo proceso de perfeccionamiento de la especie. Pero para Rousseau desafortunadamente nuestro movimiento es en su mayoría descendente. Esta época lleva en su nacimiento los elementos de su disolución. Comenzamos a mirar hacia afuera para ver que se exige de nosotros mismos en vez de mirar a nuestra interioridad deviniendo lo que la voz de la naturaleza deseaba que fuésemos:

“se acostumbra uno a considerar objetos diferentes y a hacer comparaciones; se adquieren insensiblemente las ideas de mérito y belleza que producen los sentimientos de preferencia ….. cada cual comienza a contemplar los otros y a querer ser contemplado el mismo, con lo que la estima pública tiene un precio. Aquel que canta o danza mejor, el más bello, el más fuerte, el más diestro o el más elocuente se convierte en el más considerado. Este fue el primer paso hacia la desigualdad y , al mismo tiempo, hacia el vicio (DOD 168-9).

El resultado final es la instauración de un estado hobbesiano en que el hombre es un lobo para el hombre: “castigando cada uno el desprecio que se le había hecho …….. las venganzas se tornaron terribles y los hombres más sanguinarios y crueles” (DOD. 169-70). Pero gracias, como dijimos a la facilidad de movilidad, durante esta época todavía reinaba la paz.

El que ésta sea una época dorada es claramente visto si consideramos la visión del lenguaje que le corresponde. Como vimos, el primer lenguaje fue el de la voz de la naturaleza. En este momento casi que ahistórico, mundo y yo era uno y lo mismo. No se tenía la capacidad de designar cosas fuera de sí, ni siquiera a sí mismo con pronombres como ‘yo’. A lo sumo se producían gritos animales. Pero con el desarrollo del lenguaje ya surgieron palabras y articulaciones cada vez más complejas. Y lo que es más importante, estas palabras en un principio no designaban un objeto real existente ya que el primer lenguaje fue figurativo. Las expresiones fueron primero metafóricas y sólo después llegaron a tener una significación literal. El ser primitivo ya más desarrollado, no veía en sus caminatas otros iguales a si, sino ‘gigantes’ que le amenazaban. Sólo posteriormente reconoció su error, un error que Rousseau atribuye a las pasiones: “he aquí como nace la palabra figurada antes que la palabra propia: cuando la pasión hechiza nuestros ojos y la primera idea que nos ofrece no es la verdad” (EOL, III). Queda clara la supremacía del poder expresivo del lenguaje sobre su poder designativo (*5). Y no sólo ésto, las primeras palabras fueron cantadas, no recitadas, y escritas en verso, no en prosa. La fuerza de Homero radica en pertenecer a una cultura oral (EOL, VI) (*6).

El lenguaje de las sociedades patriarcales es uno de equilibrio jerarquizado; por una parte ha sido desnaturalizado y por ende es más que un simple grito animal, pero a la vez no ha devenido totalmente civilizado, por ello no ha perdido aún la riqueza de su sonido y acento. En este momento histórico las funciones referenciales del lenguaje, es decir, su capacidad para designar el mundo fuera de nosotros, y además el elemento expresivo de éste, es decir, su capacidad para articular nuestras más interiores necesidades, pasiones y proyectos, están “fusionados” juntos en un poderoso y trastocador lenguaje melódico rico en su poder persuasivo. El poder persuasivo inmediato de la voz de la naturaleza impregna las palabras cantadas, pero éstas también logran cumplir su rol designativo que posibilita la diferenciación entre el mundo, el yo y los otros. Es un equilibrio ya que el yo se expresa a través de este lenguaje que es a su vez el medio para la designación del mundo que compartimos con los demás. Y dado que la designación es de hecho melódica, entonces el yo puede transformar su posibilidades de auto-expresión. Para Starobinsky:

“Las funciones expresivas y referenciales no están todavía separadas. Aunque sacado de el ámbito de la inmediatez, el hombre todavía forja un instrumento capaz de restaurar la inmediatez …. Se aventura más allá de las fronteras del yo, sólo para ofrecerse a los demás a través del lenguaje. Y se hace consciente de su propia existencia por medio de la constante presencia emocional que anima su discurso” (Starob, 318)

Las familias patriarcales lograron, según Rousseau, incorporar los breves gritos y gestos de los cazadores a un complejo lenguaje acentuado, fluido, melodioso y pasional. Permanece éste como ideal y tarea, incluso para la sociedad civil actual. ¿Cuál tarea? La de juntar la riqueza expresiva y designativa del discurso melódico dentro del ámbito político desarrollado. Tal lenguaje podría forjar, educar y mover a los ciudadanos necesarios para cimentar el ethos participativo de una verdadera república. Tal lenguaje sería en verdad un lenguaje elocuente. Pero el “progreso” del lenguaje conlleva, para Rousseau, a una caída estructural y una diferenciación histórica que hace cada vez más difícil darse cuenta que debajo de la pluralidad permanece la universal y ahora casi imperceptible voz de la naturaleza.

Para esclarecer el problema de la diferenciación lingüística es necesario recuperar ideas presente en el EOL. Allí Rousseau nos da un muy interesante relato acerca de la diversificación de discursos al hacer referencia a las diferencias entre los lenguajes meridionales y los del norte. Primero que todo, a la base del desarrollo lingüístico es claro que encontramos condiciones naturales materiales, no hay para el lenguaje ningún ‘deux ex machina’: “sea entonces que se busque el origen de las artes o que se observen las primeras costumbres, se pone de manifiesto siempre que todo se relaciona en sus principios con los medios de atender a la subsistencia” (EOL, IX, 59). En consecuencia, dado que los factores climáticos son más nobles con los sureños, uno puede casi concluir que las necesidades dieron pie al surgimiento de las pasiones. Por ello los lenguajes meridionales son acentuados, melodiosos y ricos; y precisamente por ello hasta oscuros (*7). Por el contrario en el norte las condiciones naturales eran tales que la inmediata gratificación de las necesidades primarias no es algo que ha de esperarse; las pasiones limitadas. Por ende los lenguajes norteños son aburridos, duros, monótonos y secos; y por ello claros en su articulación. En el norte, nos cuenta Rousseau, “antes de pensar en ser feliz, era preciso pensar en vivir …… y la primera palabra entre ellos no fue ámame sino ayúdame” (EOL, X, 64) Lo necesario prima en ellos sobre lo apasionado.

Pero lo que es absolutamente crucial en este relato es que el hecho de que uno llegue a hablar un lenguaje particular realmente afecta el modo en que uno percibe el mundo, los otros, y consecuentemente lo que uno mismo es. Rousseau va tan lejos que exclama que “en efecto los hombres septentrionales no carecen de pasiones, pero las tienen de otra especie” (ibid, 65). (*8). Y esta multiplicidad es igualmente característica de la música sin la cual comprender la evolución del lenguaje se hace imposible (*9). No podemos recapturar la degeneración del lenguaje sin a la vez retomar la visión rousseauiana de la música. Para ganar claridad respecto a la degeneración del lenguaje debemos mirar la caída de la música. A través del lenguaje melódico poético podíamos articular nuestra interioridad y a la vez proteger nuestra autenticidad de una fusión directa —–romántica—– con la naturaleza; nos daba un identidad personal y comunal. Es por esto que es de este estado del que realmente podemos decir que:

“Los sonidos en la melodía no obran solamente sobre nosotros como sonidos, sino como signos de nuestras afecciones, de nuestros sentimientos. Es así como excitan en nosotros los movimientos que expresan y cuya imagen reconocemos (EOL80 )……. “pues no es tanto el oído el que lleva el placer al corazón como el corazón el que lo lleva al oído” (ibid., 82).

En verdad nos identificábamos en aquellos tiempos con nuestros productos simbólicos. La música en particular tenía una función moral pues nos movía en conformidad con la naturaleza, nos conmovía. Lo que escuchábamos al hablar no era vibraciones externas sino melodiosos sonidos internos de autenticidad. Pero la narración rousseauiana no termina ahí.

V. MODERNIDAD Y DECADENCIA LINGÜÍSTICA

Para Rousseau la modernidad está caracterizada por la creciente separación entre el lenguaje y la música; esta última se vuelve políticamente sospechosa (*1). La degeneración musical sigue en proporción directa a la evolución de los modernos lenguajes convencionales no-melódicos: “a medida que se perfeccionaba la lengua, al imponerse nuevas reglas, la melodía perdió insensiblemente su antigua fuerza” (EOL, XIX, 93). El lenguaje históricamente se hace cada vez más racional, es primordialmente concebido como instrumento de dominio y cálculo; se refiere a las cosas, pero sin expresarnos. En la música los elementos de la armonía subyugan a los de la expresión melódica: “no es de extrañarse que el acento oral se haya afectado por ello, y que la música haya perdido para nosotros casi toda su fuerza” (ibid.). Así como ocurrió en el lenguaje, en la música la universalidad de la voz de la naturaleza se ha ramificado en una pluralidad empobrecida. Como en la diversificación lingüística, la una vez conocida voz de la naturaleza se ha ocultado en múltiples voces y cantos desconocidos.

Ahora pareciera que tuviésemos tan diferentes tipos de nervios (XV, 81) que resulta cierto que “cada uno es afectado sólo por los acentos que le son familiares; sus nervios no se prestan sino en tanto que su espíritu los disponga a ello”. Incluso hasta el punto de que la música, cura de unos es la enfermedad de otros (Ibid, 81). Y a diferencia de la posibilidad de una compleja fusión de horizontes a través del diálogo, el pesimismo rousseauiano emerge ahora con toda su fortaleza. Para él las sociedades comerciales modernas, sociedades de sermones incomprensibles, “han alcanzado su última forma; ya nada cambia en ellas como no sea con el cañón y la moneda (*2)….. lo necesario es mantener dispersa a la gente: tal es la primera máxima de la política moderna” (EOL, XX, 100) Nuestra libertad la hallamos tan sólo en el silencio de la ley; se rompe el nudo social y se deja de lado bien común en pro de discursos faccionales (CS, IV *1). Valoro la libertad en términos de no interferencia; soy libre en sentido negativo (*3) si es que somos libres del todo pues como Rousseau afirma “toda lengua con la cual no puede hacerse oír del pueblo reunido, es una lengua servil: es imposible que un pueblo permanezca libre y que hable esta lengua” (EOL , XX, 101).

El lenguaje musical, que adecuadamente expresaba nuestra naturaleza pasional en el espacio compartido de las sociedades patriarcales, termina siendo valioso sólo en la esfera privada; sirve sencillamente para murmurar en los divanes (EOL, XX, 100). Las palabras cesan de revelarnos, y devienen ahora el instrumento fundamental del encubrimiento y la hipocresía. Su presencia destructiva posterga una ausencia, la de la apariencia que nunca es. En el espacio público se encuentran cara a cara estos lenguajes, sin comprenderse ——-sin querer comprenderse. Los discursos se hacen ajenos a la tolerancia dialógica.

A donde sea que miramos hay plurales lenguajes, pero permanecemos tan perplejos como los desilusionados constructores de la Torre de Babel (*4). Al final de la historia yace un silencio, pero a diferencia del silencio primitivo, el nuestro es realmente trágico ya que surge en medio de la multiplicidad de lenguajes desarrollados. El mundo, para Rousseau, está poblado por una serie de Chaplins, pero lo que es preocupante es que ni siquiera son chistosos ——han olvidado hasta cómo gesticular, cómo gritar.

Políticamente el lenguaje es precisamente el medio a través del cual se instaura la desigualdad entre los seres humanos. De la violencia abierta del final de las sociedades patriarcales, llegamos ahora a la violencia escondida de las palabras. Los ricos, para el Rousseau del DOD, han logrado persuadir a los pobres por medio de un discurso para entrar a hacer parte de un contrato desigual: “para el provecho de algunos ambiciosos, sometieron entonces a todo el género humano al trabajo, a la servidumbre y a la miseria” (DOD. 181)(*5). La propiedad ya desarrollado de las sociedades comerciales presupone un lenguaje, su existencia requiere de quienes tienen la capacidad para decir “Esto es mío”; y claro, de otros capaces de creerlo. El lenguaje sirve ahora la causa de la ausencia; la apariencia obstruye la presencia de la autenticidad. Nos escondemos en las palabras y en el silencio. Lo que era cierto para seres de una época anterior, permanece todavía, a saber, el hecho de que era “preciso para su ventaja mostrarse distinto a como se es efectivamente. Ser y parecer llegaron a ser dos cosas desde todo punto diferentes” (DOD, 176) El lenguaje perpetua nuestra dependencia en la apariencia, nos gobierna desde fuera; nos hace heterónomos. Sólo vivimos de la exterioridad, de lo que los demás pretenden que seamos: “con lo que la dominación se torna más querida que la independencia, estando dispuestos a llevar cadenas para poder imponerlas a los demás” (DOD, 195)(*6). Somos esclavos con cadenas hasta internas.

La ironía de la historia se expresa no sólo en nuestro nuevo silencio. También la pluralidad de la diferencia, que pareció ser una posibilidad de recuperar novedosamente la voz de la naturaleza en su complejidad variable, llega simplemente a un fin trágicamente egalitario. Somos de nuevo absolutamente iguales. La universalidad sí es recuperada pero es una que comparte en la nada. Somos dueños pero del silencio. “Apres moi, le silence”, diría Rousseau. (Starob, 378); se lo diría a sí mismo en sus paseos solitarios (Starob, 327). (*7)

VI. LOS PLURALES LENGUAJES POLÍTICOS DEL “CONTRATO SOCIAL”

Si bien este pesimismo pseudo-augustiniano no escapa al Contrato Social ya que la República, y todo orden político, es siempre un verdadero cuerpo político. Y éste, como “el cuerpo humano, empieza a morir desde su nacimiento y lleva en sí mismo las causas de su destrucción” (III. *11, 113). Hasta los mejores sistemas de gobierno “se acabaran”; “el hombre ha nacido libre, pero por todas partes esta encadenado” (I *1). Pero si bien esto es cierto, la virtud del CS radica precisamente en su lucha contra tales presuposiciones. No sólo señala Rousseau diversos mecanismos para la preservación y el fortalecimiento de una buena comunidad política ——-limitaciones territoriales (II *9), balance poblacional (II *10), eliminación de excesivas diferencias económicas (II *11), prioridad de que los cargos públicos sean otorgados a partir de méritos y virtudes (III *6), elección popular de buenos magistrados y demás cargos públicos, la censura (IV *7), y la religión cívica (IV *8)——— sino que además nos presenta con un agudísimo análisis de los plurales lenguajes políticos que conforman nuestra identidad moderna. Se nos revela el complejo entrelazado de tradiciones centrales para la comprensión de la fundamental pregunta directriz acerca de la legitimidad de nuestras sociedades comerciales (I *1). Encontramos, en primer lugar, el lenguaje de la tradición del republicanismo o humanismo cívico, tanto clásico (Aristóteles, Cícero) como renacentista (Maquiavelo; hoy en día Arendt). Bajo este discurso el agente es visto como un yo caracterizado esencialmente por su búsqueda apasionada e incesante de la ‘virtud’ (*1). La demanda principal sobre las instituciones estatales es la de servir como foro en la que cada ciudadano puede llegar a articular su concepción del bien público. Ser libre radica en participar activamente en el manejo de un estado en donde la ley es soberana, es decir, es expresión tanto de la voluntad general como de mi manera de pensar propia (*2). El segundo lenguaje hace referencia a la tradición fundada sobre el concepto de la ley natural (Aristóteles, Aquino, Grotius), concepción que se ve ampliada por las ideas del ‘estado natural’ y del ‘contrato social’ (Hobbes, Locke; hoy día Rawls). La noción misma de justicia y realidad política surge sólo a partir de la forjación consensual del contrato social a partir de, por un lado una comprensión racional de las capacidades humanas y por otro, unos principios universalizables fundamentales. Ahora el agente es visto primordialmente como un individuo con ciertos derechos naturales universales; por ejemplo el de la autopreservación. La sociedad política, que es un ente artificial, busca como mínimo la protección de dichos derechos egalitarios. El contrato “sustituye una igualdad moral y legítima por la desigualdad física que la naturaleza puso entre los hombres, los cuales, si bien pueden ser desiguales en fuerza o en talento, son todos iguales por convención y derecho” (I *9). Soy, por ejemplo en la visión hobbesiana, libre negativamente, es decir primordialmente en el silencio de la ley y la inexistencia de obstáculos físicos. Finalmente encontramos un tercer lenguaje que es radicalmente moderno, característico de nuestras sociedades comerciales. Es éste el lenguaje del interés y de la utilidad que surge con el desarrollo de la economía política (Smith, Mandeville, Helvetius). El yo se considera bajo esta perspectiva como un ser interesado que busca, primordialmente, su propio bienestar en el espacio privado; es incluso su deber. La estructura estatal debe proveerlo con los mecanismos necesarios para poder lograr el máximo grado de utilidad. Por otra parte la premisa de la no intervención, del ‘laissez-faire’, se acrecienta ya que el mercado tiene sus propias reglas que no podemos controlar.

El primer párrafo del CS revela cómo estos lenguajes se integran en el texto de tal manera que la presencia de uno redefine al otro para intentar ir más allá de sus presuposiciones conflictivas. Rousseau nos dice, primero, que: “en esta investigación intentar(á) siempre relacionar lo que el derecho permite con lo que el interés prescribe, a fin de que la justicia y la utilidad nunca sean divididos”. Y seguidamente procede a enmarcar tal proyecto dentro del discurso republicano al indicar, entre otras, que tal investigación le da “nueva razones para amar el gobierno de (su) país” (ibid.) (*3).

La interrelación entre los dos primeros lenguajes, el de la tradición republicana y el del contrato social, se ve con claridad en el apartado titulado “Del Pacto Social” (I *6). Allí, retomando ideas del DOD pero con un optimismo radicalmente inesperado respecto a la salida del estado de naturaleza, Rousseau señala cómo con el surgimiento de diversos obstáculos al bienestar individual en el estado primitivo (que aparece ya sin etapas aquí), se hace necesaria la constitución conjunta de un pacto en el cual se hacen partícipes todos aquellos que entran a la sociedad civil. Este acto da la solución al problema de “encontrar una forma de asociación que con la fuerza común defienda y proteja a la persona y los bienes de cada asociado, y por la cual cada uno, uniéndose a todos, no obedece sino a sí mismo y permanezca tan libre como antes”. Un pacto que nos entrega la libertad civil y moral gracias a, a diferencia de la noción de delegación lockeana, “la enajenación total de cada asociado con todos sus derechos a la comunidad” (ibid.). Pero para Rousseau lo que surge, constituido artificialmente, no es un simple agregado de átomos débilmente interrelacionados, sino por el contrario un verdadero cuerpo político (ciudad o república) que va más allá de las presuposiciones de la tradición contractual. Nace “un cuerpo moral y colectivo compuesto de tantos miembros como votos tiene la asamblea, el cual recibe, por este mismo acto, su unidad, su yo común, su vida y su voluntad” (ibid., mi énfasis) El lenguaje del pacto de entrada está ligado al republicano como eje central. Y Rousseau es consciente de su intento de redefinición sintética. Por ello señala cómo, dependiendo del lenguaje político utilizado ——así como ocurrió con los lenguajes meridionales y del norte——- veremos algunas cosas en la realidad y no otras. Aquí en particular consideramos las ópticas diferentes del ciudadano y del súbdito. En cuanto ciudadanos somos agentes activos en la conformación de la legislatura, somos miembros egalitarios del soberano, y participes de la voluntad general que involucra, más allá de la simple unanimidad de votos, un proyecto común que nos une e identifica. En cambio, en tanto súbditos, somos seres pasivos miembros del estado, agentes obedientes de la ley que nos señala nuestros derechos, entre ellos el de la propiedad privada.

Incluso ya en el apartado analizado el tercer lenguaje, el del interés, es señalado como un lenguaje propio; hay una clara diferencia para Rousseau entre el ciudadano y el burgués. Pero la relación del lenguaje republicano con éste último se puede esclarecer de mejor manera al analizar la sección titulada “De lo límites del poder soberano” (II *4). Allí Rousseau, quien de entrada es radicalmente sospechoso de intereses faccionales que olvidan el bien común general (“cuando una voluntad particular es impuesto sobre la general, tanto la comunidad como el individuo son esclavizados” (Viroli 169), intenta señalar cómo incluso en la persecución de intereses privados es de utilidad tanto privada, como común, el no perder de vista los proyectos de la sociedad en su conjunto. Es así como argumenta Rousseau que al moldear nuestra actividad privada con miras a fines más globales, garantizamos como mínimo la supervivencia de la seguridad cívica que permite el comercio mismo. Para él “los compromisos que nos atan al cuerpo social no son obligatorios sino en cuanto son mutuos, y su naturaleza es tal que cumpliéndolos no se puede trabajar para otro sin trabajar para sí mismo”. La relación entre estos dos lenguajes es de nuevo retomada en la sección que lleva por título, ‘Del soberano’ (CS I *7). Es ésta aquella en que argumenta Rousseau de manera famosa que se le obligará a ser libre a quien no obedezca la voluntad general (*4). Pero antes que caer en un totalitarianismo absoluto en donde lo público ocupa todo espacio —como en 1984 de Orwell—- Rousseau señala que:

“en el momento en que esta multitud está así unida en un cuerpo no se puede ofender a uno de los miembros sin atacar el cuerpo ….el deber y el interés obligan por igual a las dos partes contratantes a ayudarse mutuamente y los mismos hombres deben buscar reunir bajo esta doble relación todas las ventajas que derivan de ella” (26)

En tanto modernos inevitablemente somos seres con intereses económicos particulares. Por ende el interés y el fomento de lo privado sigue siendo crucial (*5). Pero para Rousseau, sólo si logramos ir más allá, y así percibir la necesidad de proyectos mutuos, podemos entonces no sólo preservar la libertad negativa de la simple preservación, sino además tanto la “libertad civil” como base para la consecución de proyectos comunitarios, como la “libertad moral” “que por sí sola hace al hombre verdaderamente dueño de sí mismo, puesto que el impulso del simple apetito es la esclavitud.” (I *8, 30). Obligados podemos ser a la libertad civil, pero a la libertad moral sólo nosotros en nuestra interioridad podemos acceder (*6). Ahora bien, si es cierto que la voluntad general jamás puede errar (II *3), aunque no signifique esto que requiera ser unánime pues siempre está dirigida al bien público (II *2),¿cómo precisamente al ser obligados por lo público a moldear lo privado, permanece este último como independiente?

Al mirar, brevemente, el propósito de la ley dentro de la tradición republicana vemos que ésta es precisamente aquello que nos hace libres. Son leyes las que surgen de “una autoridad legítima y soberana y respeta los dos principios de la universalidad y la reciprocidad” (Viroli, 163). La ley dentro de una república garantiza el ordenamiento político que tiene, según Viroli, tres aspectos interrelacionados: i) el concepto de armonía y concordia, es decir la cooperación entre las partes, ii) la noción de justa y apropiada disposición, a saber, la correcta colocación de las partes en una escala de valores de mérito, y iii) la virtud de la moderación personal caracterizada por el control de las pasiones. Es claro que allí radica el orden, pero y de nuevo, ¿cómo garantizar que el orden no será totalizante? ¿Cómo puede Viroli afirmar que “el objetivo del verdadero político no se es el de imponer la utilitas publica sobre la utilitas singolorum; es hacer que los intereses privados y públicos concuerden?” (Viroli, 170). ¿Si hay realmente cabida para el lenguaje del interés en el CS?

En primer lugar, lejos de un totalitarianismo, para Rousseau el gobierno debe estar preparado para sacrificarse por el pueblo y no al contrario (III *1, 98). En segundo lugar el acceso a la libertad moral es nuestro únicamente; se es libre de esta manera hasta en una tiranía. Además, el ordenamiento a partir de la ley que emana de nosotros mismos, no sólo cumple el rol de garantizar la paz, sino que también tiene la función de moldear a los ciudadanos. El legislador que es humano, y por ende no puede darnos leyes perfectas, debe tener esto en mente: “quien pretende emprender la formación de un pueblo debe sentirse … en capacidad de cambiar la naturaleza humana, de transformar a cada individuo, que es en sí mismo un todo perfecto, y convertirlo en parte de un todo más grande, del cual este individuo recibe, de alguna forma, su vida y su ser” (II *7, 64). Para Rousseau es el legislativo, siguiendo la tradición republicana, el verdadero corazón del estado; el ejecutivo es simplemente el cerebro (III *7). Y este corazón involucra mucho más que leyes políticas, civiles o criminales. Su sistema circulatorio está compuesto por otro tipo de leyes, aquellas “que no se graban sobre el mármol ni sobre el bronce sino dentro del corazón de los ciudadanos que conforman la verdadera constitución del estado”(II *12) (*7). Ley, libertad y buenas costumbres conforman un triángulo equilátero que el legislador debe comprender para moldear los necesarios impulsos privados hacia el bienestar público.

Pero un legislador prudente (en el sentido de Aristóteles) no se limita simplemente a imponer un formato de leyes universales preestablecidas. Por el contrario debe éste “examinar primero si el pueblo al cual están destinados puede realmente soportarlas” (II *8). Resurge entonces aquí la sensibilidad rousseauiana a la diferencia. Responder a la pregunta ¿cuál es el mejor sistema político?, es imposible pues “cada uno de ellos en algunos casos es el mejor y en otros el peor” (III *3). Incluso la libertad no está al alcance de todos los pueblos (III *8). Pero como dijimos anteriormente, no por la presencia de la diferencia caemos en un relativismo total. El lenguaje del republicanismo permanece ocupando el ápice de la estructura política ideal. Esto es así, entre otras, ya que en él, a diferencia de por ejemplo la monarquía, los cargos públicos van de acuerdo al mérito (III *6). Estos tampoco son entregados simplemente por dinero:

“dad dinero y pronto tendréis cadenas. La palabra finanzas es una palabra de esclavo; es desconocida en la ciudad. En un estado realmente libre, los ciudadanos hacen todo con sus brazos y nada con dinero; lejos de pagar por eximirse de sus deberes, pagarán por cumplirlos ellos mismos” (III *15), 152-3).

Evidentemente el lenguaje de intereses comerciales es radicalmente limitado, a diferencia de Constant, por la austeridad de Rousseau. Pero limitar la incidencia de un lenguaje es bien diferente a rechazarlo de entrada.

Sin embargo, aunque Rousseau intenta recuperar esta pluralidad política en su obra, no es para nada optimista acerca de las posibilidades de la realidad política humana. Entre la naturaleza humana como ha llegado a ser, y la ley como debe ser, prima la primera ya escindida de su origen. Es así como señala que lo ocurre en el corazón del legislador es representativo de lo que ocurre en los nuestros. Los magistrados tienen tres voluntades (que más o menos corresponden a los lenguajes analizados): i) la voluntad individual que busca la ventaja particular, ii) la común de los magistrados o de cuerpo, y por último, iii) la voz de pueblo o soberano. El ordenamiento político que pospone la crisis se da por la jerarquización adecuada. Pero para Rousseau:

“por el contrario, según el orden natural estas diferentes voluntades se vuelven más activas a medida que se concentran. Así la voluntad general siempre es la más débil, la voluntad de cuerpo ocupa el segundo lugar, y la voluntad particular la primera de todas; en el gobierno cada miembro primero es él mismo, luego magistrado y por último ciudadano, gradación directamente opuesta a la que exige el orden social” (III *2, 101).

Rousseau por ende no es nada optimista acerca de su propia empresa clarificadora de la relación entre una política de la diferencia, y una de la igualdad en la modernidad. Sin embargo investigar su investigación nos permite un lenguaje más para la comprensión de nuestra compleja identidad moderna.


VII. NOTAS

*I)1. Taylor trata esta interpretación de Rousseau en la tercera sección de “The politics of recognition” (TPoR), especialmente pg. 50.

2. La visión rousseauiana de la historia no es sencillamente una secularización de la tradición crsitiana (Edén, Caída y Redención) como señala Arrocha en una cita; según mi análisis no existe realmente tal redención.

3. Ver en particular el ensayo de Starobinsky acerca del EOL, 322.

*II) 1. Ver también (DOD, 121), y el ensayo de Foucault, “What is Enlightenment”

2. Igualmente para Rousseau no existe, ni existirá, una democracia perfecta.(III *4)

3. Taylor trata el tema del reconocimiento, respeto y valor de otras culturas en “The politics of recogition”

4. Un paralelo se encuentra en La genealogía de la moral de Nietzsche, I *1.

5. Para Taylor la temática de la autenticidad es central par la comprensión de nuestra identidad moderna, en particular ver Sources of the Self, (SotS); capítulos IV y V.

6. La historia de nuestra interiorización está trazada igualmente en SotS, capítulo II, y en el artículo sobre Foucault titulado,“Foucault on freedom and truth” PP II.

*III) 1. Para un análisis de las diferentes tradiciones linguísticas de la modernidad ver Taylor, “Language and Human Nature”

2. Un ejemplo del valor del lenguaje gesticular en la educación cívica son evidentemente los mimos de Mockus.

3. Rousseau recupera, siguiendo la tradición agustiniana, el concepto de la calidad de la voluntad; ver Taylor, SotS, 357.

4. Visión ligada al sentientalismo del siglo XVIII, y central en la tradición romántica como por ejemplo en el Werther (Blum, 48).

5. Taylor trata este tema en SotS, capítulo 1; y analizando las leyes del lenguaje de Quebec en “TPoR”.

*IV) 1. El rol de los sentimientos en una crítica de la libertad negativa se da en Taylor, “What’s wrong with negative liberty”.

2. No tocaré en el análisis tres paradojas que se encunttran en Rousseau: i) la de la relación entre el pensamiento y el lenguaje (es necesario para pensar tener un lenguaje y un lenguaje para pensar), ii) la relación entre la sociedad y el lenguaje, y finalmente, iii) el hecho de que dadas las presuposiciones rousseauianas en el CS si uno nace en un estado corrupto, con malas costumbres, es difícil ver como arrancaría siquiera la posición de Rousseau.

3. Es importante considerar si esta segunda etapa es realmente la segunda etapa de la naturaleza o la primera de la civilización pues de ello depende nuestra valoración, positiva o negativa, de nuestro carácter civilizado.

4. Starobinsky señala las cuatro etapas completas en su ensayo sobre el DOD.

5. Ver Taylor “Language and Human Nature” para la relación entre expresión y designación, y la pugna entre diferentes tradiciones (Rousseau/Herder contra Hobbes/Locke/Condillac)

6. Esta idea bellamente analizada en Anne Carson, Eros the Bittersweet, en donde se ve la relación enter una cultura oral y escrita y las correspondientes concepciones del yo y la identidad..

7. Camus también ve en los algerianos algo similar, ver su “Summer in Algiers”.

8. Los norteños tienen un ejemplo en el personaje Hans de la obra de Julio Verne, Viaje al centro de la tierra.

9. La importancia de la música retomada claro por Schopenhauer, Nietzsche y Mann.

*V)1. Ver la visión de Herr Settembrini acerca de la música en La Montaña Mágica de Thomas Mann; contrapuesta al amor de la música de Hans Castorp.

2. Sería importante comparar aquí la crítica de Constant sobre el rol de lo comercial en la modernidad.

3. Ver artículo de Taylor, “What’s Wrong with Negative Liberty”

4.Tal vez Rousseau esté creando una Torre de Babel hacia el interior, forjando un tipo de subjetividad moderna que retoma el proceso de interiorización de San Agustín; proceso del que Foucault es altamente sospechoso. Central para una mejor comprensión de esta temática es la de incorporar Las Confesiones a este estudio preliminar.

5. No tocaré aquí el problema de la tensión que existe ente el DOD y el CS; por ejemplo, ¿es, finalmente, el contrato originalmente desigual o no?

6. La idea del reconocimento claro retomada por Hegel en, La Fenomenología del Espíritu, “Señor y Siervo”.

7. La relación entre la biografía de Roussseau y su obra es compleja y no la trataré aquí, pero claro es menester tratarla en el doctorado.

*VI) 1. Virtud claro comprendida no en el sentido cristiano pues este es un lenguaje apolítico según Rousseau (CS IV *8) que aquí sigue a Maquiavelo.

2. Idea que retomará Kant en su importantísima concepción del imperativo categórico como universal y a la vez emanando de mi propia autonomía racional.

3. El hecho de que Rousseau no era ya ciudadano de Ginebra no lo trataré aquí. (Satrob, 322) (Blum, 54).

4. Ejemplos nuestros de ser forzados a ser libres son: posibilidad de voto obligatorio y ley zanahoria.

5. La legitimidad de lo privado en la modernidad es tratada por Taylor en “Legitimation Crisis?”.

7. Ejemplos del valor de la ley en Rousseau se dan en Consideraciones sobre el gobierno de Polonia, II; “El espíritu de las instituciones antiguas”; Taylor lo cita en “TPoR”. pg. 46-7.

 

VIII. BIBLIOGRAFíA


A) LECTURAS PRIMARIAS

Rousseau, Jean-Jacques, Discurso sobre el origen y los fundamentos de la desigualdad entre los hombres y otros escritos de Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Estudio preliminar, traducción y notas de Antonio Pintor Ramos, REI Andes Ltda., Santafé de Bogotá, 1995

—–El contrato social, Traducción de Andebeng-Abeu Alingue, Prólogo y notas de

VíctorFlorián, Panamerican Editorial, Santafé de Bogotá, 1996

—–Ensayo sobre el origen de las lenguas, Traducción de Rubén Sierra Mejía,

Editorial Norma, Santafé de Bogotá, 1993.

—–The Basic Political Writings, Tranducción de Donald Cress, Hackett Publishing

Company, Indianapolis, 1987.

—–Two Essays on the Origin of Language, Translated by Moran, John and Gode

Alexander, The University of Chicago Press, Chicago, 1966 (1986)

—–Discours sur les sciences et les arts, Preface de Jean Varloot, Editions Gallimard, Paris,

1987.

—–Du contract social, Union generale d’editions, Paris, 1973 (1982)

—–Essai sur l’origine des langues, Bibliotheque du Graphe, Ligugé, 1976.

 

B) LECTURAS SECUNDARIAS

 

Arrocha Ruperto, “La actualidad del pensamiento de J.J. Rousseau en nuestra época”,

Memorias del XIII Congreso de Filosofía, Los Andes Santafé de Bogotá, 1994, pgs.

813-819

 

Blum, Carol, Rousseau and the Republic of Virtue, Cornell University Press, Ithaca, 1986,

(1989), pgs 13-57

Constant, Benjamin, “The Liberty of the Ancients compared with that of the

Moderns” in Political Writings, Translated by Biancamaria Fontrana, Cambridge

University Press, Cambridge, 1988 (1989).

 

Herder, Johann, Essay on the Origin of Language, (ver arriba; Moran y Gode).

Kant, Immanuel, Kant’s Political Writings, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge

1970 (1985).

Pagden, Anthony, “Introduction” en The Languages of Political Theory in Early-Modern

Europe, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1987 (1990), pgs. 1-17.

 

Starobinsky, Jean, J.J. Rousseau: La transparence et l’obstacle, Editions Gallimard, Paris,

1971(1976). Versión inglesa Jean-Jacques Rousseau:Transparency and Obstruction, s.d.

Taylor, Charles, “The Politics of Recognition” en Multiculturalism, Princeton

University Press, Princeton, 1994. pgs. 25-74.

——-”Language and Human Nature, Philosophical Papers I, pgs. 215-248

——-”Theories of Meaning”, PP I, pgs 248-292

——-”Kant’s Theory of Freedom”, en Philosophical Papers II, pgs. 318-337

——-”Legitimation Crisis?” en PP II, pgs. 248-288

——-”What’s Wrong with Negative Liberty”, PP II, 211-229.

——-”Nature as Source” Capítulo 20 de Sources of the Self, Harvard University Press, Cambridge, 1989.

Viroli, Maurizio, “The concept of ordre and the language of classical republicanism in Jean-Jacques Rousseau”, en Pagden, Anthony, (ver arriba), pgs159-178.

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AS I HAVE HAD SERIOUS PROBLEMS SCANNING THIS ESSAY

LANGUAGE, GOODS AND DIALOGUE: SOME TENTATIVE ASPECTS OF THE IMMIGRANT CONDITION

INTRODUCTION

Albert Camus carried his beloved Algiers with him throughout his whole life. Both his

body and pen knew of a sky, a sea, a sun and an earth which were radically different

from those of the Europe he went to live in. This other sky, sea, sun and earth were

those that constituted the unforgettable landscapes of his homeland. Camus knew, like

few have, about the life that begins far from one’s native land; a life which in the most

extreme cases is one of exile. In his beautiful short essay entitled Summer in Algiers,

this lyrical philosopher summarizes, in few words, this feeling: “it is well known that

one’s native land is always recognized at the moment of loosing it. For those who are

uneasy about themselves their native land is the one that negates them” (152). (*1)

These brief remarks on Camus allow us to begin to shed some light on the complex

situation in which immigrants from around the globe find themselves. Most

immigrants, I believe, know of this loss, they know of this negation and of this

uneasiness. They are rather daring figures who set out to sail leaving behind the

landscape –usually a nation-state— in which their values, commitments and

practices were set within a meaningful cultural and linguistic context. Immigrants carry

with them more than physical suitcases, they carry a heavy load of cultural heritage

which has shaped and allowed them to grow as they have.

Nevertheless immigrants dare to move, they are not static. To migrate is their

characteristic activity. But once immigrants have ‘landed’, that is to say, have become

‘landed-immigrants’, they come into contact with a societal reality which, to most, is to

a large extent new. It is one with its own standards, language, and modes of self-

perception; one which, perhaps, may appear alien.

It is this double belonging that which, I believe, marks immigrants. It is a tension

governed by Camusian ‘uneasiness’, which, at least, first generation immigrants feel

acutely. And truly there is nothing easy about migration; it is literally, an ‘un’-easy

affair. The familiar is displaced, and in its place, the immigrant is set within an

unfamiliar framework which provides her with, in many cases, radically new conditions

for intelligible and meaningful choice and action. What appeared to be self-evident,

perhaps even unquestionable, seems not to be shared by others who, nevertheless, are

1

set within the same novel reality. Many of our deeply held values and practices arechallenged, subverted, questioned and given new possibilities stemming frominteraction, not only with the mainstream culture, but likewise with the continuousand inevitable sight of other, quite different immigrant cultures. Incomprehensionopens up a space of intercommunication in which a plurality of languages and ways of

life begin to comprehend each other. (*2) This is a space of interaction that, as Walzer

tells us, allows for the birth of a deep type of moral philosophy; ” (one) understood as a

reflection upon the familiar, a reinvcntion of our homes” (Walzer, 17).

Multiculturalism reinvents the homes we carry within. It remodels, redesigns and

makes mirror reflection with others a delightful necessity. But multiculturalism can

also, by being denied its enriching possibilities, be simply seen as a destructive

tendency which must be demolished in order to preserve the secure foundations of

either, a mainstream society which sees itself threatened by the influx of difference

and diversity, or of severed islands populated by minority groups intent on

hermetically safeguarding themselves from any change whatsoever.

In this essay, I would like to explore some of the primary moral issues that spring

from these brief considerations on immigrants. My concern is purely normative, in

other words, I am concerned with considering some aspects of ‘ought’-questions such

as for instance; what are some of the factors that ought to be considered in trying to

begin to understand the complexity of the immigrant minority groups’ situation, and

their interaction with mainstream society? This theoretical overweight will clearly

make of the discussion something quite unbalanced. (*3) If, as Carens tells us, “any

discussion of the ethics of migration should (not only) recognize reality, ….. (but) also

consider whether we should embrace that reality as an ideal or regard it as a limit to be

transcended as soon as possible”, then this essay lies on the idealistic end of the

spectrum of possible analysis (Carens RIAEM, 9).

In particular, my central concern will be to point out some of the relevant aspects that

must be considered if any headway is to be achieved in the relationship between

immigrant minorities and the society within which they are set. In order to get clearer

on them, I propose to divide the essay in three sections. In the first, I will take up the

2

crucially important issue of language by focusing on Will Kymlicka’s Multicultural

Citizenship. Here I will try to, briefly and sketchily, elucidate the central importance of

considering not only the protection and preservation, but also the positive

enhancement of the conditions for the adequate flourishing of immigrants’ mother

tongue (particularly in cases where numbers warrant). Immigrants surely leave what

some have designated as the ‘father’ land, but just as surely they cannot leave behind,

what others have called, the ‘mother’ tongue. Although Kymlicka sets out to give some

mechanisms for ensuring special group differentiated rights for immigrants, as we shall

see, he nevertheless greatly, and dangerously, ends up watering these claims down.

This is specially so in what he himself acknowledges to be one of the most central

aspects of culture, the issue of language.

In the second section, I will take up Waldron’s view of cosmopolitanism which claims

that our modern allegiance goes beyond any specific and limited communal

framework. Instead, he sees in Rushdie’s writings a more adequate and faithful

reflection of the hybrid nature characteristic of modern, globally interdependent,

societies. Nevertheless, although claiming to be speaking from an immigrant’s

perspective, I would like to look more closely at the underlying ‘thin theory of the

good’ which cements his argument (as well as Kymlicka’s), and its linkage to a very

particular view of the self. From the immigrants perspective, I believe, these two

presuppositions may not only seem at odds with the societal culture within which they

have been brought up, but likewise can actually be detrimental and dangerous to the

healthy survival and flourishing of theirs, and their children’s, identity.

Penally, in section III, I will address Parekh’s views on the complexity of British

society understood as a multiethnic reality. I will restate there what I take to be

Parekh’s most important contributions to the debate; contributions which, like this

essay, move more on the level of a normative theory of migration rather than on the

needy-greedy conditions for its real application in politically complex circumstances.

Re-reading Parekh will allow us to see how the relationship between immigrants and

mainstream society is one involving a continual give and take, a game in which both

parties, if there concern is to foster healthy and mutually enriching conditions for

3

dialogue, must listen and respect each other’s voices. For Parekh “integration requiresmovement on both sides, otherwise it is an imposition” (B , 105).JSECTIQN I: CULTURE, LANGUAGE AND IMMIGRANTSIf what Parekh says is true, ‘words are never mere words …. they shape our

understanding and approach of the world” (BCCD, 183), then Kymlicka’s being a

philosopher aids us immensely. His attempt to understand the language of minority

rights within the liberal tradition starts to give us a vocabulary “appropriate to

nuances” (30); a vocabulary which is sensitive to a variety of hard cases and difficult

grey areas (19). It is a novel conceptual scheme which challenges the narrow focus of

the previously held frameworks stemming from the liberal tradition itself. Some of

these ended up, and continue defending, the erroneously held view of justice based

on benign neglect for minorities; a policy based on the mistaken assumption of

neutrality of the liberal state (56). In contrast, Kymlicka’s is an investigative procedure

which aims, not at hermetically closing itself upon its findings, but one which is rather

focused on opening the discussion through the portrayal of a plurality of empirical

cases and a historical tracing of the complex issue of a theory of minority rights within

the liberal tradition.

Kymlicka provides us, in different ways, with conceptual novelty, reconstruction and

clarification. First, in his view of multiculturalism as assuming two main possible

forms: 1) as ‘multinarion multiculturalism’, arrived at through the incorporation of

previously self-governing, territorially concentrated, cultures into larger states, or 2) as

‘polyethnic multiculturalism’, that is to say, a type of pluralism arising from the

incorporation of multiple immigrant cultures within a mainstream culture by way of

individual and familial uprooting (*1). A second novelty in Kymlicka’s analysis lies in

his tripartite division of ‘group differentiated rights’ for minorities; a) ‘self-government

rights’ which allow for a delegation of powers to national minorities through the

development of different forms of federalism, b) ‘polyethnic rights’ related to financial

4

and legal protection, as well as active support, for different cultural practices pertainingto ethnic groups, and finally, c) ‘special representation rights’ which guarantee seats ingovernmental institutions for minorities which would otherwise remain unheard. Thethird novel addition which Kymlicka puts forward in his book is that of the dualanalysis of ‘collective rights’ — a distortive and over-generalizing category (39) — in

terms of, either ‘external protections’, a group’s right to limit the power exercised by

the larger society thus ensuring the conditions for its survival and positive flourishing,

or ‘internal restrictions’, a culture’s right to limit its own individual’s liberties for the

sake of a good held in common by the larger group. (*2) Finally, Kymlicka reconstructs

and reinterprets the fundamental concepts of freedom and equality — which have

been considered by liberals fundamentally from the perspective of human rights —

by incorporating onto this incomplete analysis, not only an emphasis on the

individual’s belonging to a societal culture, but also by recovering the previously

mentioned ‘group differentiated rights’ which alone can allow for free and equal

interchange between minorities and majorities within democratic governments. (^3)

Having briefly and too tightly laid out the central aspects of Kymlicka’s rich

conceptual clarifications and innovations, it will now be easier to focus on the issue of

immigration which, according to the diverse categories mentioned above, must be seen

under the broad category of multiculturalism as polyethnic, and with reference to

rights involving some type of polyethnic claims for external protections.

Among the different reasons for the suspicious silence of contemporary liberal

political thought on minority issues (M), Kymlicka mentions the ethnic revival in the

US of the 1960’s and 1970’s: “the increasing politicizarion of immigrant groups

profoundly unsettled the American liberals, for it affected the most basic assumptions

and self-conceptions of American political culture” (52) (*S). The uneasiness of which

Camus spoke seems to have become contagious. It stemmed from the fact that

immigration, without some adequate process of integration, was perceived

theoretically to challenge the very foundation of US society. A melting pot must

somehow melt if it is to continue existing as such. (*6). For US political theorists, the

way to keep the melting going, was to adopt a policy of benign neglect towards

5

immigrant affairs; a policy which held that minorities not only have no special rights toclaim, but that such claiming can lead to the dangerous destabilizarion of the veryconditions for social cohesion and bonding required to unite a society under acommonly held banner(s).Unlike US theorists, Kymlicka denies the possibility of ever achieving a neutral state

which can, by remaining silent on minority issues, actually promote a just interaction

between the mainstream culture and those which lie in the outskirts- F’or Kymlicka

immigrant groups have a right to group differentiated rights; without them they will

remain invisible, unheard and voiceless (53). For the Canadian writer, the US

theoreticians’ fears were born out of a misperception, namely, that the purpose of the

ethnic revival was to end up in the creation of separate self-governing ethnic islands

which posed a real threat to the unity of the “united states”. For Kymlicka, on the

contrary, such ethnic revival aimed rather at demanding an appropriate level of

recognition for the minority ethnic groups. Ethnic groups were struggling to defend

their peculiar and distinctive identities and cultural modes of expression. Ethnic

revival “involved a revision of the terms of integration, not a rejection of integration”

(83). This is why, unlike his colleagues south of the border, the Canadian philosopher

believes that the demands set forth by immigrant groups do not aim at consolidating

^elf-government rights, but rather different types of permanent polyethnic rights. For

Kymlicka the crucial difference can be elucidated by contrasting the goals and

conditions which have characterized both, colonists, and immigrants:

“There was a fundamentally different set of expectations accompanying

colonists and immigrants, the former resulted from a deliberate policy aimed at

the systematic recreation of an entire culture in a new land; the latter resulted

from individual and familial choice to leave their society and join another

existing one” (81)

Nevertheless Kymlicka recognizes that it is not absolutely illogical too think of a future

scenario in which, territorially concentrated, and culturally consolidated immigrant

groups, could in effect forge such a strong sense of identity as to seek some kind of

self-government rights, even separation. Kymlicka is Canadian; he knows of Quebec

and its particularity; a particularity to which we shall return. But, while Kymlicka

6

acknowledges this as a possibility, it is not, according to him, a morally permissible

alternative for immigrants. Immigrants ought not to actively seek such a goal. This is

so, the argument goes, because immigrants, the parents at least, have chosen to leave

their homeland, thus waiving their claims to self-governance:

“Immigrants have no legitimate basis to claim national rights. After all they had

come voluntarily knowing that integration was expected of them. When they

chose to leave their culture and come to America, they voluntarily

relinquished their national membershipfad/narional rights which go with it”

(53) ^

(Although here Kymlicka is arguing for the case of ethnic revival in the US, it is a

position which he not only endorses, as we shall go on to see, but which permeates the

whole of his conceptual framework; one in which the duality between

multinarionalism from polyethinicity is found again and again)

Whoever re-reads the previous quote, might be somewhat puzzled by its claim that

immigrants “chose to leave their culture”. Surely what Kymlicka must mean is that

immigrants leave behind the “nation-state” (or some such political structure) to which

they belonged. Leaving a territory is, more or less, an easy matter; but leaving one’s

culture, as Camus reminded us, not an easy one at all. And Kymlicka is well aware of

this. This is the main reason why, within his interpretation, he is at pains to point out

that the liberal notion of individual freedom is one which can only be made sense of by

shedding light on its intricate linkage to the societal culture within which the

individual is ‘thrown’. This concept of societal culture is defined by Kymlicka as

“a culture which provides its members with meaningful ways of life across a full

range of human activities, including social, education, religion, recreational and

economic life, encompassing both public and private spheres. These cultures

tend to be territorially-concentrated, and based on a shared language” (67)

According to this definition of ‘societal culture’ immigrants seem to be in a tight spot.

They have left one such societal culture, the one in which they were raised throughout

their whole life, but at the same time they are just beginning to enter one of which

they know few aspects; perhaps not even the language. The problem is made more

acute within Kymlicka’s own argument precisely because it is the societal culture

7

which provides any human being with the meaningful context of choice.Understanding the praxis of a given agent then, under this particular view, implies to acertain extent comprehending the cultural background in which the individual is set.Furthermore, for Kymlicka, the way that this process of comprehension goes aboutinvolves an understanding, not only of the language used in the mainstream culture

which immigrants enter, but moreover an understanding of the practices for which

language stands as expressive realization:

“to understand the meaning of a social practice therefore requires,

understanding the shared vocabulary –i.e. understanding the language and

the history which constitute this vocabulary, whether or not a course of action

has any significance for us depends on whether, and how, our language renders

vivid to us the point of that activity …… understanding those cultural narratives

is a precondition of making intelligent judgments about how to lead our

lives”(72)

Understanding the shared vocabulary of, let us say, Canadians, means not only having

high-level linguistic skills (something difficult to achieve(*7)), but furthermore a

sense of the values and commitments underlying the diverse linguistic functions which

Canadians use in their everyday life. However, immigrants are precisely characterized

by their (unless they are extremely qualified and fast language learners) standing in a

complex situation where two different narratives meet; one very deeply entrenched

and in danger of dying, the other barely born and in danger of being misunderstood.

According to Kymlicka, unless the conditions for this mutual understanding are fully

met, the context of choice for immigrants wi\\ not be one which does justice to their

dilemma. Intelligent judgments for immigrants involve two narratives: one readily

available, but context-less, the other one yet to be written and not even, for some,

faintly comprehended.

Nevertheless, for Kymlicka, since immigrants have voluntarily uprooted themselves

from their countries of origin, in doing so they have relinquished some of the rights

which went with belonging to a ‘secure’ societal culture which was territorially

concentrated and shared a distinct language. Immigrants, Kymlicka tells us have

“relinquished some of the rights that go along with their original national

membership” (81). But even if this is true, still, Kymlicka wants to argue that even in

8

the case of immigrants, their societal culture cannot be simply overseen. Kymlickaknow\s we\\ of the tense situation in which immigrants find themselves:”they have left behind the set of institutionalized practices conducted in theirmother tongue which actually provided culturally significant way of life topeople in their homeland, they bring wdth them a ‘shared vocabulary of

tradition and convention’, but they have uprooted themselves from the societal

practices which this vocabulary originally referred to and made sense of.” (68)

Having acknowledged that immigrants cannot simply do away with their cultural

make-up, Kymlicka then goes on to inquire whether they should be allowed to seek an

active and strong flourishing of their respective culturally shared practices, their sense

of self-identity, and their communal modes of belonging and understanding. To put in

interrogative terms, if people have such a deep bond to their societal culture why

should immigrants not be allowed to develop, to a large extent, their societal cultures

within the space they have been allowed to land in? Kymlicka himself classifies the

problematic as one of the ‘hard cases’ with which a liberal theory of minority rights

must deal. (80). The problem is clearly an ‘un’-easy one.

At different points throughout his book, Kymlicka allows for two types of external

protections to which immigrants, and presumably their descendants, have access; this

h even after having acknowledged their having uprooted themselves. In Chapter 2 he

tells us that the first kind is of a negative character, they are linked to the fighting of

prejudice and discrimination through, for instance, antidiscrimination laws. These

law^s, more than promoting the development of a given group, prevent its dissolution

through reference to human rights in general; it is in this sense that they can be

understood as belonging to a negative policy, the aim of which is simply the physical

survival of those concerned. But Kymlicka goes beyond these.

The second type of polyethnic rights to which immigrants are entitled involve a

much more positive political stance. It is one which actually seeks, not simply to build

thin layered protective walls around disadvantaged groups — a procedure which can

lead to viewing these minorities as an unproductive burden and an unwelcome

responsibility — but rather to build healthy and just interactions which foster the

growth of cultural elements from diverse ethnic communities and their enriching

9

variety of ways of life. Among the latter Kymlicka allows for two distinct cases: a)public funding of cultural and artistic (even linguistic classes) where the market andpolitical forces would greatly disadvantaged minority groups and their numericalinferiority, and b) religious cases in which minority ethnic groups have beendisadvantaged, albeit not intentionally, as for instance in dress codes, traffic laws,

holiday celebrations and economic issues such as that of Sunday closing. (22-23)

Now, while it seems that Kymlicka has provided quite a lot of strongholds upon

which immigrants can seek to safeguard and promote their culture, nevertheless he

seems to shy away from the strong kind of polyethnic rights which would be required if

he took seriously his claims concerning the centrality of societal culture as a context of

choice and meaningfulness for individuals from different cultures. This is nowhere

rendered more problematic than in the case of the defense of immigrant languages.

Are immigrants, and particularly their children, condemned to view their language,

their shared vocabulary, as a nice relic worthy of the admiration reserved for museum

pieces which are doomed to constant and unrelenting fading away? Are immigrants and

their children condemned to relegate their language simply to the private sphere in

order that a more secure mainstream societal culture can flourish?

Kymlicka himself acknowledges that “it is very difficult for languages to survive in

modern industrialized societies when they are not used in public life” (68). Immigrant

languages then would seem to be set on a destructive course. Immigrants uprooted

themselves voluntarily, so they must, to put it rather crudely, somehow pay for their far

from wise decision; or so it seems. I add ‘or so it seems’, because even in the case of

languages Kymlicka is sensitive to the complexity of the issue. This is why he

dedicates a few lines to the issue of ESL teaching for immigrants. Presumably if

immigrants ought to learn the ways of the societal culture they have entered, then

learning the language in which this community deals is the most important aspect of

integration; one which can morally be demanded of all immigrants who arrive to

English-speaking, immigrant receiving countries, such as Canada and the US.

Kymlicka, in his struggle to provide immigrant groups with polyethnic rights, tells us

10

that ESL courses must move away from the view that imposes English as uniquelanguage:”current policy has operate on the assumption that the ideal is to makeimmigrants and their children as close as possible to unilingual speakers ofEnglish (i.e. that learning English requires losing their mother tongue), rather

than aiming to produce people who are fluently bilingual (i.e. that learning

English involves gaining a language, in addition to one’s mother tongue)” (82)

Given this passage it would seem then that Kymlicka, finally, provides the basis in his

argument for a strong immigrant defense of their minority languages- Nevertheless this

is not the case, and precisely here, is where Kymlicka disconcerts the most.

Kymlicka’s doubts and hesitations on the immigrant language issue can be seen when

he discusses the case of Quebec and its special status within Canada as French

sneaking national minority It is not a chance event that Kymlicka discusses both the

Quebec issue and the immigrant issue side by side. Perhaps he fears, just as the US

theorists he himself criticizes feared, that immigrant groups will in a distant future

evolve into such a strong position, with such a strong differentiating identity7, that they

will seek for themselves some claims of regarding self-government rights; perhaps

even to the extreme of secession-

According to Kymlicka the Quebecois do have a claim (and have greatly advanced in

this resnect, as the referendum clearly shows) to group differentiated rights within the

whole Canadian context founded on a tacitly accepted form of asymmetrical

federalism. Nevertheless the Quebecois are not immigrants, they should be

considered, within Kymlicka’s framework, instead as original colonists with particular

multinational rights. This is why they have a right to exercise strong forms of group

differentiated rights (in its three forms) at three levels: i) the individual level,

francophones outside Quebec have access to public services in French; ii) the group

level French-speaking parents can demand a French school where numbers warrant it

(Kvmiicka does not mention Bill 101 and its ‘internal restrictions’ here); and finally, iii)

the provincial level, in order to preserve culture and the conditions for the active

flourishing and recognition of the French-speaking minority in North America. But no

11

such strong rights are accessible to any immigrant groups whatsoever; they areconceived of as groups of uprooted ethnic communities, not as national minorities (*8).Presumably then, newly arrived immigrants will have, under these conditions, tostruggle hard to preserve their own languages given that the language of the publicsphere will remain English in the US and Canada, and French within the, up to today,

province of Quebec. Integration of the first generation immigrants will remain a

difficult task, for if learning a language takes years of dedication, understanding the

context of that language much more than that. But what is truly more troublesome is

the situation which second generation and even third generation immigrants face. If

language is so central to the definition of a societal culture, then by not providing an

adequate defense and a positive enhancement of immigrant languages, the children of

immigrants will be left with, at best, only one societal culture within which to choose

how to be, that of the mainstream English (or French). It seems to me highly

implausible to preserve central, core-type, polyethnic rights without granting much

more than anti-discriminatory laws and religious “exemptions”. And Kymlicka himself

is not silent on this issue either; but his answer reveals his fundamental fear of any

strong type of ethnic revival which emerges from a strong definition of identity which

need not, as he fears, end up in claims of national minorities:

“adult immigrants may be willing to accept a marginalized existence in their

new country, neither integrated in to the mainstream culture nor able to

recreate their old culture. But this is not acceptable for children … Parents at

least had the benefit of being raised in a societal culture in their homeland … If

we do not enable immigrants to recreate their old culture then we must

strenuously work to ensure that children integrate into mainstream” (91, FN 19)

Parents have waived their right to security, so to speak; they were free to be insecure,

but not to make their children insecure beings. But children must be afforded the kind

of security7 which will enable to them to be brought up under adequate social

conditions. In order to do so Kymlicka seems to be arguing that a ‘strenuous effort’

must be made to make them into mainstream beings who learn from their parents’

inadequate marginalized existence. But this is precisely to do away with the | //

foundation of any strong sense of multiculturalism which is founded, as the word

12

portrays, on different cultures (minority and majority), not on a set of watered downcultural backgrounds. It seems to me Kymlicka gives a strong blow to the chances of astrong and healthy deep diversity which, in the Canadian environment could be, asTaylor puts it, a true object of pride; one “where a plurality of ways of belonging wouldalso be acknowledged and accepted”? (Taylor, SDV, 75). (*9)

In yet another of his interesting footnotes Kymlicka tells us that linguists consider

language to be a “dialect with an army” (93, #28). Mainstream culture truly can

become like this, failing to perceive the richness and possibilities of a stronger

perspective on polyethnic rights concerning language. Perhaps security will not follow,

but it will not follow either from failing to see the problematic at hand. And besides, as

Walzer tells us “morality …. is something we have to argue about. The argument

implies common possession, but common possession does not imply agreement”

(Walzer, 3PI, 32). Even though Kymlicka fights hard for some kind of polyethnic

rights, he ends up by denying any strong version of these. He lowers the level of

argumentation by implying that common possession must follow from a very strong

sense of agreement.

SECTION II: COSMOPOLITANISM AND ITS ASSUMPTIONS

Immigrants are caught up in a two-sided struggle which pulls them in two directions.

In the first place they seek to preserve their valuable cultural heritage, not simply for

the sake of the first generation, but, presumably, also of the benefit of their

descendants. However, this tendency is set limitations, by the cultural

forces of the society they enter upon having left their homeland. Immigrants therefore,

  • )

and those who receive and welcome them, must search jointly for some sort of balance

between their, at times, conflicting claims, rights and obligations.

The political structure which immigrants migrate into, the one governing countries

such as Canada and the US, is that of the western tradition of democratic liberalism. It

is a form of political government to which most immigrants have had some access,

though of course, in different degrees and forms. This particular tradition is one that

13

holds that a critical stance towards the goods valued by the individual is, thoughdifficult, both possible and desirable. This modern perspective is itself the product ahistorical tradition born out of the Enlightenment. While enlightening implies,negatively, liberating one from the obscurity of traditional conceptions of the good, thisnew born tradition knows likewise of the possibility of a self-critique, that is to say, it is

intent on coming to an understanding of its own limits of understanding and practice.

(*1)

Within the liberal branch of the Enlightenment, individual liberty and autonomy, the

capacity to deliberate and choose among conflicting goods for oneself, becomes a

central commitment. This is one of the reasons the individual has the right and

capacity to become highly critical of the political, religious and social community in

which she is born. This is a point of view to which Kymlicka holds allegiance, for “it

allows to choose a conception of the good life and then allows then to reconsider that

decision and opt a new and hopefully better plan of life” (70).

The end, or ends, which guide our everyday practice, are no longer static and

unquestionable, but rather dynamic and requiring a continuous investigatory capacity

capable of revising, reconsidering, even rejecting them. This is, of course, not to say

that the individual is to be held up as the atomic center of the universe. Kymlicka

already let us see the crucial force of a societal culture as framework of choice for each

agent; society is constitutive of the individual’s identity and possibilities of self-

understanding. Nevertheless this position claims that there is in reality a peculiarly

modern human capacity to stand back and question the presuppositions, not only of

other culture’s goods, but of those which provide its own conceptual and practical

framework:

“the freedom which liberals demand of the individual is not primarily the

freedom to go beyond one’s language and history, but rather the freedom to

move around within one’s societal culture, to distance oneself from particular

cultural roles, to choose which features of the culture are most worth

developing, and which are without value” (Kymlicka, 78)

Liberals like Kymlicka, do not want to argue that a pure objective stance is humanely

possible. This is so for stepping wholly outside one’s own tradition is as impossible, as

14

stepping outside one’s very own skin. Walzer’s defense of the path of interpretation inmoral affairs is here particularly illuminating: “I do not mean to deny the reality of theexperience of stepping back, though I doubt that we can ever step back all the way tonowhere. Even when we look at the world from somewhere else, however, we are stilllooking at the world” (Walzer, 6). And presumably ‘the’ world means here in some

deep sense ‘our’ world, that which springs forth form ‘our’ interpretation.

If one inquires as to why it is that this standing back is possible in this Western

tradition, while it remains inexistent in many others — at least to the same degree

and in the same form — part of the answer seems to lie in the conception of the good

underlying it. This stance, common to both Kymlicka’s multiculturalism and

Waldron’s cosmopolitanism, is founded upon a peculiar view of the good for human

beings; it is that of a ‘thin’ theory of the good, as opposed to a ‘thick’ or ‘substantive’

one. According to Waldron this conception “give(s) us the bare framework for

conceptualizing choice and agency, but leaving the specific content of choices to be

filled up by the individuals” (20) (*2\ \

But, even though Kymlicka and Waldron share the same thin theory of communal

and individual goods, they are led to radically different positions regarding the defense

of the goods held as valuable, and in need of defense, by minority groups. Unlike

Kymlicka’s triad of group differentiated rights, which places barriers on the goods held

by majorities within liberal democratic states, Waldron pushes the view of a thin theory

of the good to its extreme in his view of the alternative to a defense on

communitarianism –in Kymlicka’s terminology ‘societal culture’– namely,

cosmopolitanism.

He finds this perspective expressed most clearly in Rushdie’s immigrant perception

of modern Britain’s multiethnicity. What shines forth in the persecuted author’s

writings is a migrant’s perspective of the kaleidoscopic reality in which she lives daily.

It is a realization of the hybrid and highly amorphous structure of the public sphere in

which she moves about. Members of such a diffuse, tension full and diversified reality,

are keen on questioning the fundamental tradition(s) in which they were brought up

for they “refuse … to think of (them)selves as defined by (their) location or (their)

15

ancestry or (their) citizenship or (their) language”. (Waldron, 753). Meaningfulnesslies not in the sharing of a unique piece of land, or a singularly held language, or ahomogeneous and secure societal culture, but rather in the intermingling of diversesocietal cultures with different languages encountering each other publicly on a day today basis. Authenticity and human fulfillment lie, not in complete allegiance and

rootedness in one’s or anyone’s traditional culture, but in a never finished web of

relativized and multivocal threads of discourse which conform the public arena of

polyethnic societies.

Under this perspective, the emphasis on the validity of a mongrel-type lifestyle

stands in opposition to the conformation of isolated islands made up of self-enclosed,

and externally protected societal cultures (752). The communitarian idea “that there is

a universal human need for rootedness in a particular community (which) confers

character and depth on our choices and actions”, is misguided and even dangerously

misrepresentarive of a dynamic reality which it, not only fails to see correctly, but

worse yet, actively covers up.

Allegiance now makes sense primarily, though not exclusively, at the level of the

global community which, according to Waldron, has come to represent the real realm

on intelligible economic, moral and political interdependence (771). (*3). Only via a

defense of such a broad community, and its international organizations, can there be a

real understanding and effective battle of global issues such as redistribution, pollution

and resource depletion. (770). Just as the communitarians understand the individual

with reference to a particular community, Waldron believes that their argument

nowadays ought to be pushed further. This to the point where individual communities

can only be made sense of, now, with reference to the global framework: “no honest

account of our being will be complete without an account of our dependence on large

social and political structures that goes far beyond the particular community with

which we pretend to identify ourselves” (780).

The ties that help constitute our identity(ies) do not pertain to one individual societal

culture, as it seems Kymlicka argues at times, but rather to a plurality of these; all of

16

which shower us with a great number of different narratives, goods, meaningfulfragments, multiple images and moral valuations. For Waldron:”From the fact that each option must have a cultural meaning, it does not followthat there must be one cultural framework in which each available option isassigned a meaning. Meaningful options may come to us as items or fragments

from a variety of cultural sources” (783)

We do in fact need cultural material in order to provide the context for meaningful

choices, but what we do not need is ONE unique, more or less homogeneous and

secure cultural framework. We need choices in a plural context and not one context for

choosing. The preeminence of one societal culture would in fact lessen the

possibilities of reaching out for diversity. Furthermore, by placing all ‘strenuous

efforts’, as Kymlicka argues, in securing one social structure, its component elements

are much less easily opened up to new and enticing possibilities.

This is why, for Waldron, securing and preserving minority cultures, and cultures in

general, is a way, not of promoting such enriching diversity, but rather of clogging up

the sources which feed the ground for mutual interaction:

“cultures live and grow, change and sometimes whither away; they amalgamate

with other cultures or they adapt themselves to geographical and demographic

necessity, to preserve a culture is often to take a favored snapshot version of it

and insist that this version must persist at all costs, in its defined purity,

irrespective of the surrounding social, economic and political circumstances”

(787-8)

According to Waldron, if we are to take seriously the cosmopolitan alternative, then

excessively campaigning for minority rights is seen almost as a backward tendency.

Kymlicka, who himself views a conception of the thin good as desirable, provides us

with some elements to criticize Waldron’s argument. His arguments are put forward

immediately following the already analyzed ‘hard cases’ which included among them

the ‘un’-easy case of immigrants. While Kymlicka acknowledges the enriching power

of intercultural exchange, he is likewise quick to point out that “there are limits in the

cultural material which people find meaningful” (86). Why is this so? Well because for

Kymlicka, although he subscribes to a thin theory of the good just as Waldron does, his

-tv

thinness is radically less thin than the required for a strong version of cosmopolitanism.

/’

17

Different societal cultures share a language which gives and shapes the sensepossibilities of practices and ideas. Snatches of culture dragged out of context loosetheir deeper meaning, they remain context-less and in this way extremelyimpoverished. Ridding cultural elements to a large extent from their original languageleads to incomprehension of words and actions. For Kymlicka “options are available to

us if they become part of the shared vocabulary of social life , i.e., embodied in the

social practices based on a shared language that we are exposed to” (86).

It is precisely because of this that the protection of minority right, particularly in the

case of immigrants becomes a necessity. This is so because of the inexistence of a

neutral sphere in which all cultural components of the cosmopolitan alternative are set.

Waldroifs alternative seems to presuppose that all traditions entering upon the public

sphere enter into it as equals. Only in this way can a strong view of hybrid reality make

sense. Unfortunately while Waldron delights, as we all should, in the intercultural

exchange which marks immigrant receiving countries, he does away with the very

conditions for the active flourishing, rather than mere preservation, of the roots from

which a strong multi-cultural reality springs. While Waldron seems led to deny special

immigrant treatment because of his anricommunitarian arguments, Kymlicka, as we

saw in the previous section^ does not go far enough.

What is so problematic in Waldron’s argument, from the perspective of immigrant

groups, comes to light clearly in his conception of the cosmopolitan picture of the self.

Its amorphous identity is based, not on any kind of hierarchical structuring based on

some special elite’s perception of some substantive view of the good, but rather on the

democratic governance of a pluralistic society of equals brought together by their

sharing a ‘thin’, perhaps too thin, theory of the good.

However, minority groups are so thin themselves as compared to majority traditions,

that, under Waldron’s conditions they will truly, I believe, disappear; their deep

richness condemned to invisibility and inaudibility. As Iris Young argues: “democratic

public should recognize mechanisms for the effective representation and recognition of

the distinct voices and perspective of those of its constituent groups who are oppressed

or disadvantaged within it” (Young, 261). While Waldron cherishes the hybridity born

18

out of interaction between cultures, he precisely takes out the very protectivefoundations which can guarantee real complex intermingling. If in Kymlicka’sargument the future scenario ends up being a secure societal culture, under Waldron’sperspective security will, in the long haul, end up being achieved by a mainstreamsociety free from the struggles of any communitarian oriented minorities.

A second serious problem in Waldron’s view of the self, from the perspective of

immigrants, lies in its relation to the identity struggles faced by immigrant children.

While his view of the self can in fact lead to an enriching and multiply fulfilling

condition; while it is true that this selfs tension, its chaotic nature and healthy

confusion, can lead — perhaps is the main road — to an artistic creation such as

Rushdie’s, it is also true that not all immigrants are potential Rushdie’s who can

articulate the confusion in which they are set in. Immigrant children do in fact face this

same kind of chaotic self structure, but from them, as we shall see in the next section,

there do not spring literary works, but rather a lack of self-esteem and disorientarion. A

senselessness born precisely out of the lack of the adequate conditions for the

reccognition

Finally, I would just like to question the very idea put forward at the beginning of

‘ this second section; the one dealing with a critical stance based on a thin theory of the

good. It makes one wonder whether Waldron, while trying to argue for a hybrid

\~\

coexistence of cultures, does in fact end up putting forward only ONE alternative,

namely, the one which is based on a very thin theory of the good in which real deep

ties to one’s culture are to be seen as radically suspicious; and the incapacity to

question these as absolutely inauthentic. But in the case of immigrants precisely this

perspective is what can in the fact be missing, at least to the same degree and in the

same form. Take for instance family ties; while family ties seem linked to the nuclear

family in North America, few North Americans would comprehend the virtual

necessity for some people of living in an extended family; living outside these is like

being torn apart. This is why I tend to believe that the most valuable aspect of the

liberal tradition which can stand back from its goods is that it can stand back, prior to

judging other communities’ goods, from its own goods by assuming a self-critical

19

stance. This inward turn, if done properly, can then truly pave the way to thepossibility of a dialogue which is both more honest and much deeper; one whichrespects the fact that other communities do not share the same goods as it does, and donot share the same type of questioning as it can.SECTION III: PAREKH ON IMMIGRANTS

In his paper on aboriginal Canadians, Alain Cairns points to the fact that the broad

category, ‘aboriginal’, tends to cover up the diverse traditions that, if one looks up

close, are found within it: “Metis, Inuit, and Status Indians are very different ways of

being aboriginal that derive from distinct histories and particular interactions with

Euro-Canadian society” (3). Simplifying reality conceptually can lead to overseeing the

real complexity which lies behind such all-encompassing terms.

This is likewise the case, I believe, with the broad category of ‘immigrant’. The term,

of course, is not only inevitable because it facilitates overall discussion and general

policy planning, but it does so —if it simply stays at this level of generality– by

homogenizing widely diverging experiences of different immigrant groups constituted

through varying traditions, histories, purposes and languages.

Kymlicka’s astonishing sensibility to difference is here lacking. Although he does, in

the case of Hispanics, differentiate between four groups –national minorities

(Chicanes and Puerto Ricans), refugees (Cubans), illegal workers (Mexican) and

immigrants (presumably Central and South America)— he fails to sec the latter

category’s internal diversity. Spanish immigrants, while certainly sharing the Spanish

language, do not by any means share the same societal culture. (This, not only across

boundaries such as for instance Colombia and Venezuela, but within boundaries

themselves due to the huge class differences which grow out economic disparities.)

Kymlicka himself acknowledges that sharing a language, while being a necessary

condition for sharing a culture, is not a sufficient one for doing so: “while the members

of a culture share the same language, it does not follow that all people who share the

same language belong to the same culture. Not all anglophones in the world belong to

20

the same culture” (93, footnote 28). By the same token, not all Spanish speakingimmigrants belong to the same culture. And if this is so for Spanish speakingimmigrants, well one can truly see the necessity of considering the difficulty ofviewing all immigrants as somehow commensurable to each other, for instance,because of their having uprooted themselves.

In contrast, Parekh is extremely conscious of the importance of signaling out the

different cultural groups which conform the broad immigrant population. In the first

place, he tells us that immigrants, who have certainly uprooted themselves from the

territory they inhabited, nevertheless do so for quite different reasons. These fall into a

continuum with an extensive area of greyish tonalities which allows us to move

beyond a voluntary/involuntary dichotomy: “immigrants come for a variety of reasons,

ranging from search for asylum to their active recruitment by the state, and each

generates distinct claims and obligations” (Parekh, TRA, 701). Different conditions

for uprooting , or better, migrating, require different relational interactions between

the members of mainstream culture and the newcomers. Dealing with refugee claims,

for example, requires radically different considerations from those which arise with

regards to immigrants who are so skilled that they enter the job market with relative

ease.

Parekh also points out that it is an unquestionable fact that immigrants come from all

over the globe. They share little in common; not language, not religion, not diet, not

dress, not customs, not family relations, not gender relation, not economic abilities.

Immigrants “come from different countries, ranging from ex-colonies to fellow

members of such international organizations as the European community. In each case

they stand in different historical and contractual relations to the receiving country”

(ibid.)(*l)

And not only the ‘why’ and the ‘where’ tend to vary to a considerable degree in the

case of immigrants, but likewise the ‘how long’ and ‘to what degree attachment is felt’.

This variation, I suspect, is determined, to a large extent, on the favorable conditions

found upon arrival, that is to say, on the degree to which immigrants feel respected and

21

respecting, recognized and recognizing, valued and valuable, and finally seen asworth- deserving as well as worth- giving beings. For Parekh:”some immigrants are or see themselves as short-term residents anxiousafter a few years to return to their home countries of origin or to moveelsewhere; some are or see themselves as long-term residents anxious

eventually to return to their countries of origin and in the meantime to remain

and work within, but not to become full members of, the host society; some

others want to remain members of their countries of origin as well as become

full members of the host country; yet others have completely broken with their

countries of origin” (Parekh, TRA, 702)

It is true that by putting forward all these differentiating factors, the issue of

‘immigrants’ might become much more dense and less easy to handle practically, but

at least it is a move which does not shy away from portraying the complexity of the

issue. Not by closing one’s eyes, no matter how hard one tries, will the dense multi-

layered reality of a multicultural society fade away.

This idea is one which Parekh develops more fully in his understanding of British

society. For him contemporary Britain ought to be seen as a multiethnic society. He

purposely rejects designating it as ‘multicultural’, precisely because for him this term

“does not adequately express, and even seems to obscure the kinds of difference that

obtain between different communities in modern Britain” (Parekh, BCCD, 184).

Ethnicity refers to identity and character differentiation, it is in this sense that Britain

can be seen as made up of such differentiating communities, “each with its distinct

culture or ways of thought and life” (184). (*2) Their having landed on British soil is a

fact to which there exists not one unique way of responding. Mainstream British

culture which, for different reasons, allowed these multiethnic appearance on its

shores: “ha(s) to decide how to respond to this fact, bearing in mind their own history,

system of values and aspirations as well as the likely reactions of the ethnic

community” (186). Parekh sees four general possible paths to follow: i) a rejoicing in

multiethnicity (polyethnicity for Kymlicka or cosmopolitanism for Waldron), ii) a

grudging acceptance of its nature, iii) a slow, but effective, undermining of it or finally,

iv) an open declaration of war upon it (186). Regardless of which is adopted, it remains

fundamental to realize that their implementation, just as in the case of Aboriginal

22

demands for fair treatment in the Canadian context, must continuously remind itselfthat, “simply put, the difficulty (here) is that the direction in which we are going isuncharted territory with few signposts” (Cairns, 1).However, this is not to say that the ethnic presence is somehow new to mainstreamculture; a kind of surprise to which they have suddenly awakened. In fact Parekh

shows how British governments have adopted more or less clear political policies with

determined objectives. Parekh traces the history of the two main responses to

immigrant arrival: on the one hand, the assimilationist/ nationalist alternative, and on

the other, the integrationist/liberal one. Both have subsisted side by side; the

preeminence of one over the other has depended primarily on the political climate of

the times (191). The first promotes some form of benign neglect, a policy which, as we

have argued, ends up being neither ‘benign’ nor ‘neglecting’. This interpretative path

perceives the incompatible ways of life found in ethnic communities as a diversity

which can lead eventually to political instability; even to a serious fragmentation of

what it sees as a cohesive and unified Britain with a univocal identity. According to this

view, Britain “could not remain cohesive without fully integrating them (note; the

ethnic groups), and it couldn’t integrate them without dismantling their internal

bonds” (188). Through both a discriminatory immigration policy which for instance

did not allow relatives to join already settled immigrants, and a mainstream education

focusing on English curricula (primarily history and language), this policy sought an

active cultural engineering of ethnic groups. Of course immigrants were not denied

basic human rights, but neither were they given any type of group differentiated rights.

The second model, the liberal/integrationist, valued diversity as actually enriching the

social fabric of contemporary Britain. Nevertheless “it remained vague and was not

clearly distinguished from its assimilarionist rival” (191). It pushed forward both

antidiscriminatory laws and demanded an education curricula based on mutual

understanding and tolerance. It fostered an environment where both parties sought to

interact actively in order to enrich each others’ perspective to the fullest. But it did so

timidly and halfheartedly.

23

Parekh sees various difficulties in each of these approaches. But among the critiquesthat he puts forward, I would like to signal one out which takes up the issues raised inthe first two sections of this essay. It is one which he directs primarily against thestrong assimilationist strand, but which can equally be argued against a weak liberalperspective which does not guarantee strong forms of group differentiated rights to

immigrant minorities. The critique concerns the effects of a strong defense of minority

rights, not simply on first generation immigrants, but on their children and their

children’s children as well.

Immigrant children, as we saw in Section I, did not decide to uproot themselves.

Nevertheless, they stand now, because of their parents’ decision, in an environment

which can not only foster the most extreme uneasiness and disorientation, but also

provide them with the most enriching of possibilities in the conformation of their

directional identity. While their parents had the possibility of growing into different

sorts of, more or less, solid trees –trees which can use their strength to survive in

unknown terrain — immigrant children are like fragile seeds and plants facing a forest

the richness and dangers of which can be compared to a jungle. This can lead to a

sense of loss and disorientation without comparison. In the case of Asian immigrants,

for instance:

“There is ample evidence that (their) children growing up in non-Asian Areas,

or taught in overzealous assimilationist schools, are deeply confused, insecure,

tense, anxious, emotionally hollow, ashamed of their past, including their

parents, lack resistance and self-confidence, and display disturbing disorders in

their thoughts, feelings and behavior” (192)

Kymlicka’s answer to this dilemma, which I take it goes beyond Asian boundaries, lies,

as we saw, in adopting a ‘strenuous effort’ to bring these children closer to mainstream

society. A solution which, we argued, sidestepped the problem itself by seeming to

imply that cutting the roots of one’s culture, and one’s language could be morally

demanded of immigrant children because, if not, they would end up just as

disoriented. Waldron, in turn, presumably would argue that this is the price to be paid

for the constitution of a radically new form of multiple thin identities which together

constitute the cosmopolitan view of the self.

24

Parekh is perturbed, and rightly so, by these troubling effects of migration. And,unlike Kymlicka, he views the source of the problem, not primarily in diversificationitself, but precisely in the inability of mainstream culture, not only to provide adequatemechanisms for the survival of immigrant identities, but also those which canguarantee their active and strong flourishing.

A case in point is that of the issue of the use of immigrant languages in the public

sphere. As we have argued, unless some strong defense of the minority language is

allowed — presumably where numbers warrant– these languages are, if not

doomed to disappear, then, and perhaps worse yet, forcefully sent to search for self-

enclosed islands in which they remain in use, quietly awaiting an opportunity to come

to public light through some kind of political demand. A shocking example given to us

by Parekh is that of the Urdu parents speaking in crowded train. To her parents use of

the shared language used in their homeland, a young immigrant girl reacts with utter

shame:

“When the confused mother asked for an explanation, the girl shot back: ‘Just

as you do not expose your private parts in public, you do not speak in public in

that language’. Though no one had presumably taught her that, she knew that

the public realm belonged to the whites, that only their language and customs

were legitimate within it, and that ethnic identities were to be confined to the

private realm. In a society dominated by one culture, pluralism requires more

than mere tolerance” (193) (*3)

Immigrant children’s healthy upbringing requires more than a mere bipartite strategy

in which their language remains exclusively private-oriented. This strategy may so

severe the identification links with their parents as to even deform the identities of

those children who make up second and third generations.

But it is not Parekh’s aim simply to safeguard minorities, and their languages, from

any interaction with mainstream society. This is neither possible, nor desirable given

that extreme differentiation, the kind which disregards some sort of integration is just

as counterproductive and damaging; “differentiation draws attention to oneself,

intensifies self-consciousness, singles one out as an outsider, and denies one the

instinctive trust and loyalty extended to those perceived to be ‘one of us'” (192) (*4^).

Some type of communicative interaction can alone respond adequately to the

25

multiethnicity which marks Britain’s social reality. It is an interaction that finds in adialogical relationship an extremely alluring model for new kinds of coexistence andcohabitation.Some of the central points for such a healthy interaction are given to us by Parekhhimself. His position, which springs from a critique of the previous two approaches, is

founded on five central premises: i) cultural difference is a valuable asset, ii) in

polyethnic societies such diversity is grounded partly in ethnicity which finds

expression in fragile minority communities, iii) these communities are not a threat to

mainstream society, but rather positively strengthen the latter’s economic, social,

cultural and linguistic possibilities, iv) the British have as part of their liberal tradition

an understanding of tolerance within morally permissible limits, and finally, v)

minority ethnic cultures ought to have a say in the public, politically charged, realm.

According to this perspective, minority immigrant communities are not simply to be

preserved in formaldehyde jars. They ought rather to be defended to the extent that

the conditions for their survival and active flourishing can be met by both (or more)

parties involved. The healthy tension found between minority(ies) and majority(ies)

can perhaps be seen to resemble a game which maybe most of us played as young

children; and if not so shared, it is one that can be taught to others (for the lovely thing

about games is that they can be taught to others who are eager to learn and participate

in them). It is that game in which two teams pull real hard on a single rope they share,

in order to bring one of them across a painted or imaginary line. It is true that Majority

cultures can indeed push the shared cord so as to send minority groups flying, in worse

case scenarios, right into the puddle which lies between them. But what both sides

must come to realize is that the possibility of the game itself makes sense only given

the presence of both. Of course one can play against oneself, but that, children can tell

you, is neither as challenging, nor as fun. It is in this sense, I think, that one can say

that “integration requires movement on both sides, otherwise it is an imposition”

(Parekh, 195).

Imposition reflects a desire to deny diversity, it proceeds from a leveling hunger

which fails to critically assess the underlying motives behind its game destroying

26

action. Fortunately as we saw in Section II, the mainstream culture of countries such asCanada and the US is born out of a tradition which knows itself to be born out of a self-critical and dialogical tradition. This is why it can indeed come to see that ethnicminorities:”widen the range of lifestyles upon its citizens, enabling them to borrow from

others what attracts them and to enrich their way of life. They also bring

different traditions into a mutually beneficial dialogue and stimulate new ideals

and experiments” (195) (*4)

Borrowing and lending are the social expressions of a hard won trust and

understanding.

This mutual activity, this rope game, is the one which Parekh defends by expliciting

six primary normative objectives to have in mind in determining the healthy

relationships between minorities and majorities. First, cultural diversity ought to be

given strong public status so that diversity and difference come to be viewed, not as a

limiting factor by both parties — half grudgingly accepted by the majority,

halfheartedly rejected by immigrant children– but rather as a deep challenge for

both. One in which both (or more) parties are called upon to foster the cohabitation of

strong identities living side by side and committed to respect their traditions by way of

increasing bilingual education, multicultural curricula, acceptance of dress codes,

religious beliefs, and minority holidays, among many others. Second, on the minority

culture’s side of the rope, it is expected that they accept the obligations of British

citizenship through national loyalty and sensitivity to British political values;

principally through an active respect for the liberal democratic practices and

institutions and an understanding of the history and language which provide the

foundations of Britain’s shared cultural vocabulary. Nevertheless, and this is the third

point, minority cultures must be allowed to develop in their own direction and at a

speed not to be imposed from outside. These minority groups, even if they come from

a tradition that does not know of such a critical stand as that which characterizes the

countries they enter upon, have among them: “intelligent and wise men and women,

most of them heirs to old civilizations, and familiar with the art of making changes.

They love their children, are deeply concerned about their well-being, and know

27

better than anyone else that their future is tied up with British society, which theymust therefore understand and to which they must adapt, however painful the process”(199). Fourth, it is necessary to understand, and here Parekh coincides with Kymlicka,that individuals comprising communities flourish or decay with the downfall oruprising, literally up-rising, of these communities. This is why the proper conditions

for communal recognition and identification must be set in place; from this conditions

perhaps will follow more smoothly, higher individual levels of self-confidence and self-

esteem. The fifth consideration involves the need for the recognition of the distinct

character of ethnic communities by the mainstream legal system. This, not through the

implementation of a plurality of incommensurable legal systems (*5), but rather

through a more flexible, imaginative, and not because of this less secure, interpretation

of British laws: “the courts confront one with the other and decide how best the

general intentions of the law can be realized and justice done as well as seen to be

done in a specific and unique case” (202) () Vor instance, while cases of female

circumcision ought to be rejected, equal treatment of genders ought to be fostered

(*7).

Finally, and here Waldron and Parekh come close to each other, but through

radically different routes, the idea of identity must be reconsidered so as to

acknowledge the diversity upon which it is now to be construed. Identity is “not an

abstract but a concrete and internally differentiated universal. It is not something all

Britons (note: or Canadians) possess; but rather a milieu, a self renewing process in

which they participate’. Identity is a dynamic concept which, regardless of our

intentions, seems to have a life of its own. Its fluidity continually escapes us no matter

how hard we fight to reach its alleged security. Multiculturalism implies

interdependence; it requires an open stance capable, both of listening to perspectives

which at first may appear radically alien, and of articulating self-critically one’s own

goods and valuations. To speak of a British identity makes sense only through the

recognition of this mutual belonging:

“In other words none of us is fully British. We are constantly trying to become

one, each on his own way and at his own pace. Only he is fully British who can

honestly say that no British citizen, black or white, Christian or Hindu, is a

28

cultural stranger to him. Those generally regarded as quintessentially British arein some way the least British” (203)Identity is a never-ending process in which becoming supersedes being. Polyglots aresuch becoming loving creatures. We positively admire polyglots, among other things,for their incredible capacity to perceive and produce sounds of differing tonalities, for

having the mnemic capacity required to recognize distinct words, for their graceful and

almost effortless comprehension of grammar and functional structures pertaining to

diverse linguistic groups. But polyglots are truly gifted humans; immigrants and their

hosts can simply try to learn from the former the mutual advantages to be won from

aiming at some type of expressive and respectful bilingualism. (*8) Having won this

linguistic advantage, perhaps then can follow different types of trilingualism, and who

knows, maybe even an enriching polyglorism. (*9)

FOOTNOTESINTRODUCTION1. In this passage Camus refers not only to the loss of his beloved Algiers, but likewise to a loss whichhe sees permeates the whole of the Western tradition. For him it is one which, in modernity, ischaracterized by the birth of nihilism and the absurd. Nihilism is itself understood as a leveling of all

values which, for example for Nietzsche, is seen as a detrimental aspect of the democratic tradition and

its perspective of a ‘thin view of the good’ (a perspective taken up in section II of this essay). The

liberal tradition is not without critiques itself, starting from Plato and Aristotle..

2. Having lived most of my life in Colombia, born from a Quebecois mother and a Colombian father,

having had access to the English language from early on, having lived for four years in Montreal some

years ago, and for a few months here in Toronto, I still am at a loss sometimes as to how to respond to

some elements in Canadian culture. Although there are too many examples, I would like to signal out

two in particular. The first occurred some days prior to the Quebec referendum. I asked a fellow Master

student whom I met in the Department what she thought about the issue. She gave me her opinion

and I proceeded to ask her who she was going to vote for. She stared at me rather oddly and asked

“Isn’t that kind of personal?”. Then, somehow, it clicked that such a question, though perhaps common

in a Colombian setting, is radically personal here. It took us some seconds to understand why she

thought it was such a strange question and why I thought it to be rather normal. Although embarrasing,

we seemed to realize the context within which the question was made. The second occurred in 1986

when I, for the first time was coming to a country I was a citizen of, but which I had never before

visited. Upon arriving to the airport and showing my passport where it says I was born in Colombia, I

was ‘jokingly’ asked by the immigration official; how many kilos do you have with you? He seemed to

take it for granted that it was obvious what the kilos WCTC of (Colombians abroad are dealt with with

extreme unfairness). Many examples which occur in day to day interactions still occur to me. I take it

that it is something that most immigrants share to even greater degrees. (This is likewise true for

people who migrate, from the countryside, into the ever growing cities in the Latin American setting.)

3. Perhaps a more balanced consideration can be reached with the difficult empirical study that will

follow this essay, and which will focus on the issue of immigration, either in Quebec, or a Province such

as Ontario. I will, in this essay, disregard all questions dealing with the economic requirements

necessary to foster a healthy relation between minorities and mainstream culture in a period where

cutbacks are the order of the day. But I will likewise remind myself that practice, without some kind of

theoretical framework, can be dangerously blind.

SECTION I

1. For Kymlicka both forms of multiculturalism, the multination, and the polyethnic, are not as distinct

as the separate categories might portray (19); furthermore for him Canada is among the few countries

which shares both (16).

2. For Kymlicka internal restrictions are to be regarded by liberals with very suspicious eyes.

Nevertheless, when he discusses the Quebec case he seems to shy away from considering Bill 101 .Is

not this Bill an internal restriction. Does Kymlicka see it as a suspicious one? How does it presence

affect incoming immigrants to the province of Quebec? Can they claim such internal restrictions using

the same arguments? Up to what extent?

3. Kymlicka is extremely sensitive to a multitude of empirical cases which he acknowledges do not fit

easily in his complex conceptual framework. Some of these are African Americans, refugees and

Hutcerites in Canada (19).

4. The other reasons for this minority rights skepticism lie in: i) the failure of minority treatises such as

that of Poland and Germany prior to the beginning of the Second World W^ar, and ii) racial

desegregation in the LS which seeks a color-blind society.

30

5. The continual use of the adjective and noun American in the part of Kymlicka is radicallydiscriminating to the peoples who live in the American CONTINENT; a continent comprised ofSouth, Central and North America. This use of the term cannot be defended either morally norgeographically. It is as if one, unintentionally, argued that all Canadians are gringos. This might seemlike a nominal problem, but if the arguments in Section I are correct, then it is certaiily more than this.

This use ought to be changed; but, of course, watching the news and reading the newspaper, it seems

quite illusory to try do so.

6. For Kymlicka there is not that much of difference between the two immigration models usually

discussed, the Canadian ‘mosaic’, and the US ‘melting pot’. Perhaps the first is not so mosaic-like, the

latter, not so melting. (10-11)

7. Having taught English as a Foreign Language for several years, I have seen the difficulty, and time

consuming task, which is to learn a language such as English (that is in all the four linguistic skills:

reading, writing, speaking and listening). I know that the ESL situation changes, and soon will begin to

prepare myself to look at the differences.

8. On the identity of the Quebecois, Kymlicka moves from referring to them sometimes as Quebecers,

sometimes as French Canadians. But precisely the Quebecois see themselves, before Canadians, as

members of the French speaking Province of Quebec. For Taylor this is furthermore linked to a

perspective which holds that the Quebecois hold a view of the good which stands in tension, to some

extent, with the ‘thin’ view of the good upheld by Kymlicka and Waldron. That Taylor dedicates pages

to the issue of language in political thought is therefore no surprise.

9. This deep diversity follows from an acceptance of a first level agreement on the basic principles of

liberalism and human rights.

SECTION II

1. A tradition grounded on the Kantian imperative, Sapere Aude! (Learn to be wise) As Kant asks of us:

“Have courage to use your own understanding” (Kant, What is Enlightenment”). This is a tradition in

which autonomy is set against all forms of heteronomy.

2. This is a position which is radically criticized, I believe, by Aristotelian ethical thought. The amazing

clement in Waldron’s argument is that he can still use Aristotle to foster his argument of global

interdependence, while clinging to a thin theory of the good. The tension can also be seen, I think, in

the Taylorite differentiation between what he calls hypergoods, and the goods which follow from the

modern affirmation of ordinary life (Sources of the Self.)

3. Here Waldron follows Habermas’ modernist project: “the arrival of world citizenship is no longer

a phantom though we are still far from achieving it. State citizenship and world citizenship form a

continuum w-which already shows itself (at least) in outline form” (Habermas, 7).

SECTION III

1. Recently a friend of mine from Colombia, who was not as lucky as I to have been born from a

Canadian, and therefore by law having the right to Canadian Citizenship (something envied by many in

countries such as Colombia), told me that during his swearing allegiance to the Queen and Canada,

there were, in the same place, about 120 people coming, and this is astonishing, from 29 different

countries !!!!!

2. Parekh clearly differentiates between the processes followed by Asian immigrants and their economic

claims, Afro-Caribbean and their political claims, and Muslims and their religious claims. Of course all

three claims are interrelated, but each immigrant group has tended to emphasize some over the others.

3. One of my Canadian nieces, the one old enough to speak, does not like to speak any Spanish,

although she can understand just about anything one tells her. In contrast, one of my Colombian

nephews speaks English as much as he can. Precisely it is in these everyday realities that, I think, one

can sec the difference between having a language extremely valued for different purposes as English is

in Latin America, and the parallel relevance of Spanish in Canada. Of course the case of Hispanics in

the US is radically different. Most of my students in Colombia would, if they could travel to learn

English, shy away from cities such as Miami for they argued, “one does not need English there”.

31

4. It is disturbing sometimes to hear stories of immigrants whose success within mainstream societyleads them away from the culture within which they were brought up. But this is a very personal andbiased opinion.5. The difference between immigrants and Aboriginal Indians is here illuminating. The latter do have,for different reasons, their own legal systems; but these seek not to deny basic human rights.

6. Aristotle in his Ethics points this out in quite another historical context: “‘it is he mark of the trained

mind never to expect more precision in the treatment of any subject than the nature of the subject

permits” (1094b28-30)

7. In the case of legal claims drawing the line is precisely the problem. While Carens argues that cases

of gender equality must hold universally, as well as the female circumcision of children (for adults it is

different) (CJ,CD,PC), there are other more problematic cases to which Parekh points. One of these is

the legalization of marijuana by Rastafarians of which he says: “The Rastafarians cannot be easily

isolated from the rest of the community, there is always the risk of the large-scale traffic of drugs, and

the likely health risk to them that cannot be ignored by the state” (201). Here, I believe, Parekh seems

to be sidestepping the issue. And it is one which of course permeates the whole modern debate on drug

control.

8. I write bilingualism because I take it that the primary relationship to consider in multicultural society

is between specific immigrant groups and the English speaking society. Once this dialogue takes place,

I believe, there can follow the more complex possibility of carrying over these intercommunicative links

to the relationship between immigrant groups themselves. But here I may perhaps be wrong.

9. What one certainly does not want, I have argued, is some kind of Esperanto which all human beings

share, but without having any ties to real practical and theoretically complex and differentiated

contexts. (The Bible story of the Tower of Babel can perhaps be here illuminating)

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BIBLIOGRAPHY (Readings for the course)Cairns, Alan, “Aboriginal Canadians, Citizenship and the Constitution”.Carens, Joseph, “Realistic and Idealistic Approaches to the Ethics of Migration”.— “Complex Justice, Cultural Difference and Political Community”.— “Canadian Citizenship and Aboriginal Self-Government”.

— “Democracy and Respect for Difference: The Case of Fiji”.

________ “Liberalism and Culture”.

Habermas, Jurgen, “Citizenship and National Identity: Some Reflections on the

Future of Europe”.

Kymlicka, Will, Multicultural Citizenships

Parekh, Bhikhu, “British Citizenship and Cultural Difference”.

— “The Rushdie Affair: Research Agenda for Political Philosophy”.

Taylor, Charles, “Shared and Divergent Values”.

Waldron, Jeremy, “Minority Cultures and the Cosmopolitan Alternative”.

Walzer, Michael, “Three Paths in Moral Philosophy”.

Young, Iris, “Polity and Group Difference: A Critique of the Ideal of Universal

Citizenship”.

Read Full Post »

INTRODUCTION

 

  In the Myth of Sisyphus Camus retraces Hamlet’s famous words: “the play’s the thing wherein I’ll catch the conscience of the king”. The murdering king’s bloody desire for power must be uncovered, and a play within a play will allow this. Camus is also, like Hamlet, keen on desiring to catch and uncover. This can be seen in our tracing anew his commentary on the words by Ophelia’s vanishing lover: “‘Catch’ is indeed the word. For conscience moves swiftly or withdraws within itself. It has to be caught on the wing at that barely perceptible moment when it glances fleetingly at itself” (MoS, 77). Conscience eludes us, and yet we desire to get hold of it, somehow. Conscience is a task, not a given; it is there, but it is not.

  Eros, for the Greeks, was much like this. It too moves in flight: “flutters its wings amongst the birds of air” (Sophocles, Love, fr 855, Lucas 224). We humans of course do not fly. And this perhaps it is why desire is so hard to ‘catch’: “as a sweet apple turns read on a high branch/ high on the highest branch and the applepickers forgot —-/well, no they didn’t forget — were unable to reach” (Carson quotes Sappho, 26). Eros  and Camusian conscience both evade us as soon as we attempt to ‘catch’ them. They are like red apples we cannot really bite, and yet we yearn to taste their sweetness.

  Writing a concept trace has to do a lot with all this. To leave a trace is to leave marks, a sign of something’s presence. But the marks stand there as a memory, what left the trace in the first is long gone. And we long for it; if not, then why trace it in the first place? And so we set out to trace that which left its footsteps, or better, its wing-marks. For this particular quest we reach out to the vestiges of desire as it traverses Camus’ lyrical philosophy.

  But to trace, we ought to remember, is not only to follow, or to track down. To trace can be like the hunter; but we do not want to hunt, that is, catch in death. Hunters seem to be fond of stones. But stones leave no traces, for they neither walk nor fly. (Stones are truly not ruins, like the ruins at Tipasa). To trace can also refer to a much simpler innocent act that, as children, we repeated again and again and again. To trace refers also to the act of drawing or copying with lines or marks. To trace, then, is to recopy. I set out then to recopy Camus’ words, listening intently for the appearance of such an elusive force as is desire, the Greek Eros. In this sense to trace is truly to plagiarize. And plagiarizing is not only always inevitable and desirable, but, it can, if done properly, also be liberating. Besides, plagiarizing Camus is remembering him again and again and again. And this is something to be desired.

  Our search along desires’ vestiges in Camus’ marks and lines will proceed in triangular fashion: i) by providing the general location of desire within it, albeit, given that this is just a tracing, briefly, incompletely, and sketchily, ii) by giving some specific locations in the work by referring to some pages where desire has been “caught” in words, pages which I will copy once again, that is trace, as I did as a child, and iii) by letting desire have its play through the desire to question which we feel governs us. Questions born out of desire as fragile sketches.

 

 

 

 

TRACING THE TRACES

 

I. CALIGULA

 

i) General location

 

            a) Drusilla’s death is the death of a loved one. Besides it is the death of a desired sister. Loss here is at once erotic and filial. Caligula’s refusal to face this desire as truly relevant.

            b) Caligula’s desire for the impossible as symbolized in the moon. His drive to physically possess the moon; to be sexually moonstruck. Sadistic desire to kill and to obliterate, out of love of power and of the impossible, the other, the human and the possible. Caligula as hunter. The forceful desire to teach his logical truth: “Men die and are not happy”.

            c) Caesonia’s desiring love of Caligula.

            d) Cherea’s desire for meaning and his hard-won respect for Caligula.

            e) Caesonia v.s. Cherea on love.

            f) Scipio’s love and admiration of Caligula. Scipio’s love of art v.s. Caligula’s solitude and rejection of the lies of art.

 

ii) Specific locations

 

            a) pages. 4, , 6, 6, 10, 15, 71

            b) 7, 8, 15, 40, 46, 49, 71

            c) 17

            d) 21, 58,

            e) 63

            f) 67, 65,

 

a) 71, “love isn’t enough for me; I realized it then. And I realize it today again; when I look at you. To love someone means that one’s willing to grow old beside that person. That sort of love is outside my sort of range. Drusilla old would have been worse than Drusilla dead”

b) 46, “she was coy to begin with, I’d gone to bed. First she was blood-red, low on the horizon. The she began rising, quicker and quicker, growing brighter and brighter all the while. And the higher she climbed the paler she became. Till she was like a milky pool in a dark wood rustling with stars. Slowly, shyly she approached, through the warm night air, soft, light, as gossamer, naked in beauty. She crossed the threshold of my room, poured herself into it, and flooded me with her smiles and sheen … So you see Helicon, I can say, without boasting, that I’ve had her”

c) 17, “ I needn’t swear. You know I love you”.

d) 21 “to loose one’s life is no great matter; when the time comes I’ll have the courage to loose mine. But what is intolerable is to see one’s life drained of meaning, to be told there is no reason for existing”

    58, “he forces one to think, there’s nothing like insecurity for stimulating the brain, that of course is why he is so much hated” (words said even after his condemnation of Caligula’s “corruption” of Scipio (56)

e) 63, “too much soul, that’s what bites you, isn’t it? You prefer to label it disease .. tell me Cherea, has love ever meant anything to you?”

f) 67, “I shall go away, far away, and try to discover the meaning of it all … Dear Caius when all is ended remember that I loved you”

 

 

iii) Some questions

 

Is Drusilla’s role simply secondary, as Caligula says? Why then did Camus not choose any lover? What is that only emotion Caligula ever felt, that “shameful tenderness for” Caesonia (70)? Why does Caesonia ask Cherea if he has ever loved? Is Cherea truly ‘loveless’ and ‘simple minded’? Does Caligula ‘really’ think he has possessed the moon? If so then why does he say “even if the moon were mine, I could not retrace my way?” (49) What could it mean that Caligula is still ‘alive’? Does desire have to do something with it?

 

 

II. THE MISUNDERSTANDING

 

i) General location

            a) Maria’s unconditional, bodily love for Jan; simplicity; loss of a world outside Europe in which together they were happy.

            b) Jan split not only between the desire to fulfill his duty to relatives and his love for his spouse, but also between the land of exile and the homeland.

            c) Martha’s longing for the wind of the sea. Her desire to breathe under the sun, even if this implies murder. Her asexuality, bodilessness and stone-like character. (Like The Commander for Don Juan, like Sisyphus’ stone, like the Gods).

            d) The mother’s fatigue of life briefly cast aside through the emergence of a late love. (Like Meursault’s mother’s love for Perez)

 

ii) Specific locations

 

            a) 81, 84, 128

            b) 88

            c) 79, 105

            d) 81, 124

 

a) 128 Martha: “What does that word mean (i.e. love)?”, Maria: “It means all that is at this moment tearing, gnawing at my heart; it means that rush of frenzy that makes my finger itch for murder. It means all my past joy and this vivid sudden grief you have brought me, yes, you crazy woman”

b) 86-87, “As for my dreams and duties, you’ll have to take them as they are. Without them I’d be a mere shadow of myself; indeed you’d love me less, were I without them” …. and ….. “One can’t remain a stranger all one’s life. It is quite true that a man needs happiness, but he also needs to find his true place in the world. And I believe that coming back to my country, making happy those I love, will help me to do this”

c) “What is human in me is what I desire, and to get what I desire, I’d stick at nothing, I’d sweep away every obstacle in my path”  ….. and ……. “ I have a very different idea of the human heart, and to be frank, your tears revolt me” (129) …… and ….. “Buried alive! No one has ever kissed my mouth and no one, not even you, has seen me naked. Mother I swear to you that MUST be paid” (122)

d) 122 “its no more than the pain of feeling love rekindle in my heart”

 

iii) Some questions

 

Is Maria simply a secondary character? Is Maria’s appeal to the Gods a ‘weakness’? Are these Gods the same stony one’s of which Martha speaks? Is Martha’s longing similar to Caligula’s? Is it just in a ‘minor’, much less impressive, scale? Can it not be seen instead as appealing to the contrast between the public and the private sphere? Politics and ruthlessness as against family and intimacy? Is The Misunderstanding really more familiar than Caligula? What is Camus’ idea in recovering the force of this play in The Stranger? Is this a little like Hamlet’s staging a play within a play? Is Jan at fault for not being straightforward? How to understand the dichotomies present in this work of mirrors: home/exile, dark/light, burning sun/sun of life, family love/erotic love, past/future, rich/poor, men/women? Can the absurd be seen as springing precisely out of their tension? Would it be too crazy to say that it is rather strange an odd that Camus chose the names of Maria and Martha as those of the central figures of the work? Is it not puzzling that their names, out of a million others, begin with the three letters which stand for sea in Spanish(i.e. mar)? Are not Maria’s tears which Martha repudiates born out of this sea? Can one see Maria’s encounter with Martha as a mirroring encounter? Like the different mirroring encounters Caligula has with himself? What does this mirroring have to do with our recopying Camus’ words in front of us? What of the words in The Stranger  which tells us of the sea that “it lay smooth as a mirror”? (54)

 

 

III. HELEN’S EXILE

 

i) General location

 

            a) Greek valuation of nature’s beauty. Socratic desire for limits and desire for admission of ignorance.

            b) Modern split between instrumental rationality, and expressive powers (Like Jan split duty/love)

            c) Hubris; desire of power (Like Caligula’s overstepping of limits)

            d) love of friendship (a healthy Scipio)

 

ii) specific location:

 

            a) 187

            b) 189

            c) 191

            d) 192

 

a) 187, “The Mediterranean sun has something tragic about it, quite different from the tragedy of fogs. Certain evenings at the base of the seaside mountains, night falls over the flawless curve of a little bay, and there rises from the silent waters a sense of anguished fulfillment. In such spots one can understand that if the Greeks knew despair, they always did so through beauty and its stifling quality. In that gilded calamity, tragedy reaches its highest point. Our time on the other hand, has fed its despair on ugliness and convulsions. This is why Europe would be vile, if suffering could ever be so”

b) 189, “we turn our backs on nature, we are ashamed of beauty. Our wretched tragedies have a smell of the office clinging to them and the blood that trickles from them is the color of the printer’s ink” (very different, of course, than that of Camus’)

c) 189 “Our reason has driven all away. Alone at last, we end up by ruling over a desert”  ……. and ……. 190-1 “Nature is still there, however. She contrasts her calm skies and her reasons with the madness of men. Until the atom too catches fire and history ends up in the triumph of reason and the agony of the species. But the Greeks never said  that the limit could not be overstepped” (Overstepping in a universe devoid of Gods)

d) 192 “we shall fight for the virtue that has a history. What virtue? The horses of Patroclus weep for their master killed in battle. All is lost. But Achilles resumes the fight, and victory is the outcome, because friendship has just been assassinated: friendship is a virtue?”

 

iii) Some questions

 

Is Camus’ view of Nature here truly romantic? Is not an appeal to nature as objective standard inaccessible to us moderns? Could one then relate this view of nature to our inner expressive powers? Nature reborn out of its transfiguration? Nature’s epiphany? Does Camus fall into a regressive desire for a land long lost for us, that is the Greeks? Is his a failure like Rimbaud’s  ambivalent Soleil et Chair? Or does he find a way to retrace this past era in a way that it opens, for us moderns, new possibilities of becoming? How to link Helen’s beauty with both a political project and an ethical outlook? Can Helen return form exile?

 

 

IV. RETURN TO TIPASA

 

i) General location

           

            a) longing love of the homeland; permanent exile (Like Maria and Martha, and Caligula, and Jan, and Camus, and us)

            b) love of water and the Sea God (a God in Camus!)

            c) love of light; its ephemerality

            d) love of what is, as it is

            e) split love again: beauty and the humiliated

            f) love of love; an ethics of overflowing giving

            g) strange love of paradoxical articulated secrets

 

ii) Specific location

 

a) 194 Medea “You have navigated with raging soul far from the paternal home, passing beyond the sea’s double racks, and now you inhabit a foreign land”

b) 195 “for five days rain had been falling ceaselessly on Algiers and had finally wet the sea itself ….. which ever way you turned you seemed to be breathing water, to be drinking the air” …. and …… 200-201 “before dropping into the sea itself. It is seen from a distance, long before arriving, blue haze still confounded with the sky. But gradually it is condensed as you advance towards it, until it takes the color of the surrounding waters, a huge motionless wave whose amazing leap upward has been brutally solidified above the sea calmed all at once. Still nearer, almost at the gates of Tipasa, here is its frowning bulk, brown and green, here is the old mossy god that nothing will ever shake, a refuge and harbor for its sons, of whom I am one” (The sea of Meursault’s flowing with Marie)(Tipasa, the loved ruins of our youth)

c)  199 “In the earth’s morning the earth must have sprung forth from such light” ….  and …..202 “O light! This is the cry of all the characters of Ancient Drama brought face to face with their fate … I knew it now. In the middle of winter I at last discovered that there was an invincible summer in me”. (invincibility in Camus!)

d) 196 “disoriented, walking through the wet, solitary countryside, I tried, at least to recognize that strength, hitherto always at hand, that helps me to accept what is when once I have admitted that I cannot change it. And I could not indeed; reverse the course of time and restore to the world the appearance I had live” (dis-orientation)

e) 203 “yes, there is beauty and there are the humiliated, whatever may be the difficulties of the undertaking, I should like never to be unfaithful either to one or the other”

f) 201-2 “For there is merely bad luck in not being loved; there is misfortune in not loving. All of us are drying up of this misfortune. For violence and hatred dry up the heart itself … I discovered at Tipasa once more that one must  keep intact in oneself a freshness, a cool wellspring of joy, love the day that escapes injustice and return to the combat having won that light” (ethics of benevolence and artistic creation; good-fortune?)

g) 203-204. (a secret cannot be revealed)

 

iii) Some questions

 

Is the tension between beauty and the humiliated fully surpassable? Can one think of a longing to a rebirth of the world outside a Christian tradition? What is the relationship between Camus’ moving philosophical work and his moving and lyrical work? Are they complementary, in tension? Does Camus’ loving transfiguration of nature eliminate its silence? If not, then what does it mean to ‘leave everything as it is’?  (Nietzsche’s eternal recurrence)

 

 

V. THE MYTH OF SISYPHUS      

 

i) General location

 

            a) contradiction: desiring the end of desiring. Force of suicide and lack of meaningfulness

            b) a desire too move beyond nihilism as loss of meaning. Beyond exile and malaise.

            c) desire and nostalgia: modernity and homelessness

            d) Lovers’ dialogue: A: “What are you thinking of” B: “Nothing”

            e) death appears: mortality and the end of desiring

            f) Don Juan’s Love: like a platonic cicada

            g) The actor: the body is king

            h) Conqueror: desire for articulation, lost causes and self-conquest.

            i) desire for creation: ephemeral works of art

            j) loving and knowing

            k) desire to break stones; hatred of unhealthy rockiness

            l) desire for happiness

 

ii) Specific location

 

a) Preface, 3, 5 “It is confessing that life is too much for you, or that you do not understand it … It is merely confessing that it is not worth the trouble”

b) Preface, “even within the limits of nihilism, it is possible to find the means to proceed beyond nihilism”

c) 6, “in a universe suddenly divested of illusion and light, a man feels alien, a stranger. His exile is without remedy (a logical contradiction with b?) since he is deprived of the memory of a lost home or the hope of a promised land. This divorce between man and his life, the actor and his setting is properly the feeling of absurdity”

d) 12, “but if that reply is sincere, if it symbolizes that odd state of soul in which the void becomes eloquent, in which the chain of daily gestures is broken, in which the heart vainly seeks the link that will correct it again, then it is as if it were the first sign of the absurd”

e) 57, “the idea that ‘I am’, my way of acting as if everything has meaning, all that is given the lie in vertiginous fashion by the absurdity of a possible death”

f) 69, 71, 72, 76, 77  “the more one loves the stronger the absurd grows” ….. “this life gratifies his every wish and nothing is worse than loosing it. This madman is a creative man” …… “yet it can be said that at the same time nothing is changed and everything is transfigured. What Don Juan realizes in his action is an ethic of quantity, whereas the saint on the contrary, tends towards quality” ….  “what more ghostly image can be called up than a man betrayed by his body who, simply because he did not die in time, lives out the comedy while awaiting the end” ….. “the ultimate end awaited but never desired, the ultimate end is negligible”.

g) 80, 81 “the actor is the intruder. He breaks the spell chaining that soul, and at last the passions can rush onto their stage. They speak in every gesture, they live only through shouts and cries. Thus the actor creates his characters for display. He outlines or sculptures them and slips into their imaginary form transfusing his blood into their phantasms”

h) 84, 88 “don’t assume that because I love action I’ve forgotten how to think …. I can thoroughly  define what I believe. Believe it firmly and see it clearly and surely. Beware of those who say :’I know this too well to be able to express it’ For if they cannot do so this is because they don’t know or it is out of laziness they stopped at the outer crust” (biting the apple of desire?) ….  “conqueror’s sometimes talk of vanquishing and overcoming. But it is always ‘overcoming’ oneself that they mean”

i) 93, 94, 113, 114  ( 93-4)“it is certain that a new torment arises wherever another dies. The childish chasing after forgetfulness, the appeal of satisfaction are now devoid of echo. But the constant tension that keeps man face to face with the world, the ordered delirium that urges him to be receptive to everything leave him another fever. In this universe the work of art is then the sole chance of keeping his consciousness and of fixing its adventures. Creating is living doubly” ….. 113 “ this is the difficult  wisdom that the absurd thought sanctions. Performing these two tasks simultaneously, negating of the one hand and magnifying on the other is the way open to the absurd creator. He must give the void its colors”

j) 97, 98, 117  (97), “there are no frontiers between the disciplines that man sets himself for understanding and loving, they interlock, and the same anxiety merges them”

k) 120, “You have already grasped that Sisyphus is the absurd hero. He is, as much through his passions as through his torture. His scorn of the gods, his hatred of death, and his passion for life won him that unspeakable penalty in which the whole being is exerted towards accomplishing nothing. This is the price that must be paid for the passions of the earth”

l) 123 “I leave Sisyphus at the foot of the mountain! One always finds one’s burden again. But Sisyphus teaches the higher fidelity that negates the gods and raises rocks. He too concludes that all is well. This universe henceforth without a master seems to him neither sterile nor futile. Each atom of that stone, each mineral flake of that night filled mountain, in itself forms a world. The struggle itself towards the heights is enough to fill a man’s heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy”

 

iii) Some questions

 

Is Don Juan just a step on the ladder to the conqueror? Is this not too Hegelian a view? In other words is quantity leading up to quality or are quantity and quality at the same level; even in constant interacting conflict? (like Dyonisius and Apollo in Nietzsche) Can one have a Doña Juana? Is loving and knowing at the same time really possible?  Can one not desire suicide under certain circumstances? How is Sisyphus’ stone linked to Christ’s cross? Does not Camus tend to see the Greeks and the Catholic tradition too much like each other? Can Sisyphus be really happy, or is he just fooling himself? Can one really move beyond nihilism starting from it? Why does Camus say yes and no?  How is it that the body and all we are ‘become’ conscious of its mortality? By reading Camus? By being sentenced to death? By external events; an accident? Is the Myth of Sisyphus simply related to an ‘individualistic’ retrieval of ‘consciousness’; if so then why does the conqueror say, “as for me. I decidedly have something to say about the individual. One must speak of him bluntly and, if need be, with the appropriate contempt” (84)? What then does the conqueror’s self-conquest imply? How is it that art becomes the sole possibility of keeping consciousness?

 

 

VI. THE STRANGER

 

i) General location

 

            a) Marie, lovely laughing living Marie. (Like in The Misunderstanding?)

            b) Salomon and his dog (Raymond and nameless girlfriend, a variation)

            c) Friendship; love of Celeste

            d) Love of ghosts: Marie’s traces

            e) Mother’s new love

            f) Love v.s. priest (Cherea v.s. Caesonia?)

            g) Love of life: love of ice-cream

 

ii) specific location

 

a) 27, 28, 29, 42, 56, 57, 78 

b) 52

c) 93

d) 75, 79, 80, 113

e) 120

f)118

g) 98, 104-5

 

a)  27, “ I let my hand stray over her breasts” …. I caught her up, put my arm around her waist, and we swam side by side. She was still laughing”, …..  41 “ One could see the outline of her firm little breasts, and her sun tanned face was like a velvety brown flower” …56 “for the first time I seriously considered marrying her” …. 78 “I remember Marie’s describing to me her work with that set smile always of her face”

b) 52 “I tried hard to take care of him; every mortal night after he got that skin disease I rubbed an ointment in. But his real trouble was old age and there is no curing that“ (Meursault’s reaction ‘a yawn’)

c) 93 “ I didn’t say anything, or make any movement, but for the  first time in my life I wanted to kiss a man”

d) 80 “ I never thought of Marie especially. I was distressed by the thought of this woman or that …. so much so that the cell grew crowded with their faces, ghosts of my old passions. That unsettled (desire unsettles?) me, no doubt, but at least it served to kill time” (compare to Don Juan “he is incapable of looking at portraits” (72))

e) 120 “and now it seemed to me I understood why at her life’s end she had taken on a ‘fiancé’. Why she’d played at making a fresh start”

f) 118 “and yet none of his certainties was worth one strand of a woman’s hair. Living as he did, like a corpse, he couldn’t ever be sure of being alive”

g) 104-5 “only one incident stands out; towards the end, while my counsel rambled on, I heard the tin trumpet of an ice-cream vendor in the street, a small, shrill sound cutting across the flow of words. And then a rush of memories went through my mind — memories of a life that was no longer mine and had once provided me with the surest, humblest pleasures: warm smells of summer, my favorite streets, the sky at evening, Marie’s dresses and her laugh. The futility of what was happening here seemed to take me by the throat, I felt like vomiting, and I had only one idea: to get it over, to go back to my cell, and sleep …. and sleep”

 

iii) Some questions

 

How does desire’s appearance relate to the idea that Meursault is simply a ‘passive’ character? Is not desire precisely where Meursault finds meaning in life? Is he not truly artistic in his meticulous descriptions of places and people; like Camus, in a sense? Is this a prearticulate sense of bodily activity and meaningfulness a more adequate path towards Caligula’s questioning and dismissal of Drusilla and consequent search for the impossible?  (Like enjoying ice cream, and the smells of summer, and favorite streets, and the evening sky, and Marie’s dresses and especially her laugh) Why did Meursault decide, finally, to marry her? What to say about Meursault indifference to his mother’s death,  to Salamano’s beatings, to Raymond’s beating’s, to his four extra-shots? Just chance? Just psychoanalysis? Just unethical? How do we in our everyday life become aware of the value of life; do we have to be sentenced to death? But is not reading this book a kind of death and a rebirth? How, if at all, can Meursault ever become a political being? Is there not a tension here?

 

 

We have in this way come to the end of some of the tracks left by desire in Camus’ words. But surely many other traces remain untracked, and if we are to follow the Conqueror’s conception of conscience, somehow we must be able to articulate what moves elusively in all these marks and figures. But for now, tending to believe that such a project is doomed to fail, let us remind ourselves of the ambivalent love of ice that Sophocles tells us children feel; that same love of ice, as of ice-cream, which triggered in Meursault the surest and humblest pleasures:

 

            “Like children that beneath a frosty heaven

            Snatch in their eagerness at icicles

            (First they are ravish with their latest toy;

            Yet soon they find it hurts their hands to hold

            That icy thing: and yet how hard to drop it!) —

            Even such are lovers too, when what they love

            Tears them betwixt ‘I would not’ and ‘I would’” (Sophocles, Lucas, 224)

 

Desire traced has come into our hands but it has melted; its gone. This is a feeling Camus knew all too well. It, too, is present in the gaining of our own self and meaning:  “For I try to seize this self of which I feel sure, If I try to define it and summarize it, it is nothing but water slipping through my fingers” (MoS, 19).

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