An interesting and funny experiment is the now well-known fairness study by Dutch ethologist Frans de Waal and his colleagues.

WATCH IT HERE:

The Age of Empathy (by Frans de Waal)It once again confirms some basic intuitions of mimetic theory. Frans de Waal seems to treat the tendency to be competitive and aggressive on the one hand, and the tendency to be empathic on the other, as two different faculties. Seen from René Girard’s mimetic theory both competition and empathy can be attributed to one and the same source: mimesis (imitation).

  1. The ability to imitate another (see: mirror neurons or mirror neuron system!) opens up the possibility to imagine what the other is experiencing – as an “alter ego”. This is the foundation for the development of empathy and compassion.
  2. René Girard also points to mimesis as a potentially divisive force in the context of desire: when two individuals imitate each other’s desire for acquiring one and the same object, they can become each other’s rival. Mimetic desire thus threatens the stability of relationships.

In the words of Vittorio Gallese, one of the discoverers of mirror neurons, in conclusion to his paper The Two Sides of Mimesis (click title to read the whole paper): “We have examined empirical results showing how interpersonal relations are made possible — in the first place — by resonance mechanisms that provide the common ground upon which the I–Thou relation can be established. It could be tempting to use such evidence to assert the neurobiological basis of the supposed natural proclivity of mankind to sympathy, fellow feelings, good will and altruism. I think we must resist such temptation, and look at human nature as it really is and not as we would like it to be. In this respect, Girard’s Mimetic Theory is illuminating, because it shows that mimesis when declined as mimetic desire has the intrinsic potentiality of driving humans to aggression and violence. Mimesis, as I have been trying to show throughout this paper, is neither intrinsically good nor bad. It is a basic functional mechanism at the core of our diversified social competencies and activities. Nevertheless, mimesis has two sides. Any serious neuroscientific attempt to shed light on the truest and deepest nature of human condition cannot neglect either side. I posit that the empirical evidence here briefly summarized and future research stimulated and driven by the currently available evidence have the potentiality to shed further light on both sides of mimesis.”

Both above mentioned points can be observed in many of de Waal’s experiments and observations. The second point becomes very clear in this fairness study. Consider the following remark by de Waal:

“Note that the first piece of cucumber is perfectly fine. The first piece she eats. Then she sees the other one getting grape, and you will see what happens…”

The Gift (by Marcel Mauss)In other words, the frustration and anger for not receiving grapes is aroused by comparison with the other monkey. Potential conflict does not arise from inequality as such, but from the tendency to imitate someone else and therefore desire what he receives, desires or possesses. The monkey is perfectly willing to eat cucumber instead of the better tasting grapes as long as her neighbor is in the same position. But would you still be happy with a little Toyota if everyone else in the neighborhood is driving a big Mercedes? We have to keep up with the Joneses, don’t we? Indeed, beyond basic needs, our and the monkey’s desires are structured by imitating others and comparing ourselves to them.

Primitive societies are well aware of the potential destructive outcomes of sharing gifts. That’s why gift exchange is highly regulated in archaic contexts. Besides establishing an acceptable hierarchy (which implies differences and inequalities), the rules of gift exchange also aim to undermine feelings of frustration and envy. To keep the peace! Essai sur le don  (The Gift), the groundbreaking study by Marcel Mauss (1872-1950) [PDF], to this day is very revealing in this regard (e.g. p.11: “To refuse to give, or to fail to invite, is – like refusing to accept – the equivalent of a declaration of war; it is a refusal of friendship and intercourse.”).

The ethical question remains whether the ties and bonds between humans that arise from mimetic interplays (manifested in empathy, fear of violence, but also lust for power and prestige) are a good basis for morality. I guess, as mimetic creatures, we have no choice but to rely on imitation. But this can be tricky. It’s very common to empathize with a friend or a clique and to imitate their hostility towards an enemy. But this kind of loyalty is not necessarily just or righteous. It’s the blind loyalty of the mafia or the mob. What if your friends or your clan is wrong? The big challenge, as put forward among others by Christ, is to include the ones that are considered “enemies” as “members of the community” – as “neighbors”, fellow human beings.

Chimpanzee Politics (Frans de Waal)René Girard claims that an imitation of Christ could guide our mimetic faculties in such a way that they would enable us to “love our enemies”. This is not to be understood in a masochistic way. To protect the victim of bullies doesn’t mean that you want to get bullied yourself. To put it differently: to speak in favor of the socially deprived or “crucified” doesn’t mean that you want to get crucified yourself, although of course you always run the risk that “bullies” don’t “show mercy” but keep on “crucifying”. Nevertheless Christ “turns the other cheek”, not because he wants another blow, but because he hopes that merciful, non-vengeful conduct will eventually be imitated.

So, empathy as the basis for morality? It depends on the examples one imitates and empathizes with. Will you follow the idol of yourself – the important person you imagine yourself to be in a certain group (that structures itself partly by excluding its “enemies”)? Or will you follow the Voice of the one who questions the image of yourself that exists at the expense of excluded others – in order to find yourself in relationship to those others?

“As you get older you will learn that loyalty is a virtue too important to be lavished on individual personalities.”

(From That Hideous Strength, by C.S. Lewis).

When I was a child, back in the eighties, my friends and I used to play this hero or superman game. We would identify with some action figure we considered super-dooper and, well, “fight” each other. Or at least we would mimic a fight from an action movie we secretly watched behind our parents back. Most of us were allowed to watch some violence in cartoons, but weren’t allowed to see the real deal – or so we thought… So Rambo and Rocky were out of the question. This prohibition only added to the mystique of these films and ignited our desire to watch them at all costs. It also made the movie characters larger than life, still, if that was even possible.

I remember that we weren’t quite fully aware of the fictitious nature of most heroes. So Sylvester Stallone was different from Rambo and Rocky, as Arnold Schwarzenegger differed from, say, Conan the BarbarianMr. T and B.A. Baracus likewise might have had the same look, but were not to be mistaken for each other. Besides, for some strange reason still unknown to us, we could watch the A-Team. Other cardboard characters in our “realm of the gods” were real cartoon (hmm, “real cartoon”) characters like He-Man or G.I. Joe. And Bruce Lee was the ultimate legend, of course.

It was a simpler world then, for me and my friends. There were good guys and bad guys. Heroes and villains. The Cold War hadn’t quite finished, and as children from Europe’s West we would team up with the valiant knights of the USA against the evil empire of the USSR. For instance, together with Rocky we would fight the Russian monstrous man-machine Drago in Rocky IV. Or we would cheer Rambo to outsmart the Soviets with aid of the Taliban in Rambo III (imagine that – how policies change according to newly found “common enemies”!). We had yet to learn that “the Russians love their children too”, although Sting already sang this as far back as 1985.

Growing up, I learned that the battle between good and evil is not really a battle of “us” (the good guys) versus “them” (the bad guys), but should actually be located in the individual.The battle of the handsome He-Man versus the atrocious Skeletor became understandable as a metaphor for an inner struggle in every man’s heart or soul. After all, “we all have our demons to fight”, don’t we? Freudian psycho-analysis would call this battle the source of an ever fragile equilibrium the Ich has to maintain between Es and Über-Ich.

All of a sudden, the world wasn’t that simple anymore. We couldn’t just locate evil outside of ourselves anymore and banish it, like some scapegoat in the desert. Moreover, the heroes we identified with as children turned out to posses some bad character traits as well. It all boils down to your point of view. I once read a testimony from a Jewish woman who survived the Holocaust wherein she states that the most scandalous experience she had back then, was the realization that her tormentor was a human being, just like herself – after seeing him in a gentle mood with his family. Or, to put things slightly different, Superman only appears beneficial among his own kin. From the perspective of his opponents and victims, he is the devil. So to follow some kind of Superman in all circumstances – even if it’s the Superman you imagine yourself to be – is a shady affair. You could become a monster in trying to turn yourself into a hero…

“Yesterday he was a god; today he is a devil; tomorrow he’ll be a man again; that’s all.”

(From The Three Clerks, by Anthony Trollope).

The challenge that arises from this identity crisis is to accept that you yourself and the people you look up to are not the noble heroes you imagined, nor is your opponent or enemy the monster you always thought. Mercy and forgiveness can only come from this kind of acceptance, from the realization that it is okay to be “mere men”. For the longest time humanity has convinced itself that people should strife for perfection no matter what, that people should resemble some godly ideal.

The ancient Greek philosophers basically defended the idea that it’s nature’s law that “man becomes god.” Christianity tells the shocking story that “God becomes man.” Meaning that it’s not even necessary to participate in a battle between “angels and demons” to sustain some sense of identity. Beyond psycho-analytical identity constructions, you are loved just the same. The paradoxical miracle of accepting yourself as “not being a hero”, is that you can truly become a saving grace for others. For it is when we keep on believing the illusion that we can somehow heroically protect ourselves and our own from all harm and that “evil does not happen but far from our quarters”, that we remain blind for the evil that happens on our very doorstep.

When pedophilia scandals came to light in the Catholic Church of Belgium as well, following reports from child abuse by churchmen from around the world and with the infamous case of Bishop Roger Vangheluwe serving as a trigger, one of my colleagues was scandalized because I claimed that we all bear some sort of responsibility in these cases. Let’s face it, when push comes to shove, we often do have the tendency to look the other way and to let others – you know, “professionals” – deal with “sensitive cases”. But even psychiatrists and health care workers, it seems, aren’t to be trusted. The Netherlands were recently shocked by Rieke Samson’s report on child abuse in youth care. And in Belgium there was psychiatrist Walter Vandereycken’s case. He allegedly abused some of his adult female patients.

It’s very easy to express disgust for criminals and wrongdoers, and to feel some relief for “not being part of the corrupt group” that let them have their way. But I think, considering the spread of child abuse cases, that the Gospel is right for revealing the painful truth that we are all, more often than not, like the apostle Peter whose loyalty is refuted by Jesus (Matthew 26:34): “Truly, I tell you, this very night, before the rooster crows, you will deny me three times.” Indeed, when Jesus becomes a victim of the authorities, Peter looks the other way in order to keep himself from getting contaminated with the troubles of his friend.

So it comes as no surprise then that it was easier for the BBC to run a documentary about child abuse in the Catholic Church (The Shame of the Catholic Church), than to give green light for a documentary about the systematic child abuse of one of its celebrity TV-personalities, the late Jimmy Savile. It’s all too human, sadly. But evil is and can be everywhere, also in our own quarters. We might be tempted again to exorcize that evil and restore our sense of identity by “sending a scapegoat into the desert” or by executing large scale witch hunts, but that won’t heal the damage done. It will only increase people’s solicitude to be “on the right side of the line” between good and evil. It will create further mistrust between people and complicate relationships, especially between educators and children. Educators might start to promote a culture of distance between themselves and children, which will again allow malicious minds to gain an aura of inaccessibility and power – and the problem of child abuse might continue by the very measures that tried to avoid it.

As long as we are more preoccupied to safeguard our own “goodness” by blaming each other for all the “badness”, we won’t be able to help any one victim.

To give up on an easy manicheistic duality between good and evil is very difficult. Make no mistake, many of the people who were on Lance Armstrong’s side when he provided the Tour de France with himself as a new legend in cycling publicly loathe him now. He’s gained money for lots of people, and we just love heroic athletes. But ever since he was revealed as a cheat, we’re on the search for new, “real” heroes. And the vicious circle goes on, for no mere man is capable of being that legendary. Maybe he’ll be remembered more positively when he passes away as a tragic old man and long forgotten sports hero. It’s what happened to Michael Jackson and so many other celebrities. Before he died, the general public didn’t care about Jackson’s music anymore, focusing instead on allegations of child abuse and other scandals Jackson was involved in. Dead, he again became the attractive idol he once was. René Girard’s mimetic theory explains parts of our awe for (and idolization of) the dead from deeply embedded and culturally transmitted experiences surrounding victims of mob violence, whose death formerly brought peace and unity to communities.

Mimetic mechanisms time and again trick us into participating in the creation of “heroes” and “monsters” (who are often our former heroes). We constitute the crowd that applauds the emperor’s new clothes, until a child tells us that he really has no clothes. And then Lance walks on, proud as we have taught him to be, and we, doing everything not to lose face, convince ourselves that we somehow knew or didn’t know (depending on our position) of his deception all along…

One can only pray that people like football coach Jerry Sandusky, who abused several boys, are also taken care of by relatives. Else fallen heroes mainly serve as markers to identify and to judge what and who is “good” and what and who is “bad”. To forget that our “heroes” or “zeros” are mostly “mere men”, is to forget our own humanity. It means that we will imitate the crowd that claims to be “righteous”. It means that we will identify with the hero we imagine ourselves to be to destroy “the bad guys” outside ourselves. It means that we will unwittingly become monsters ourselves, equal to the monster we were trying to destroy – its double. Shouldn’t we be preoccupied with Sandusky’s victims instead of Sandusky himself? To listen to the voice of the Victim in our midst, instead of the thousands of godly heroes in our head that put “us” against “them”, well… that’ll be the day…

For insofar as there is jealousy, strife, and factions among you, aren’t you fleshly, and don’t you walk in the ways of men? For when one says, “I follow Paul,” and another, “I follow Apollos,” aren’t you fleshly? […] Therefore let no one boast in men. For all things are yours, whether Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas, or the world, or life, or death, or things present, or things to come. All are yours, and you are Christ’s, and Christ is God’s.

(1 Corinthians 3:3-4 & 3:21-23).

  • FEMME DE LA RUE

Sofie Peeters made quite an impression when she launched her student film Femme de la Rue. Not only in her native country Belgium, but also across the borders. Her autobiographical, short documentary film addresses a certain kind of sexism in the streets of Brussels. Peeters is seen walking around the neighborhood that used to be her home while attending film-school. Soon she is yelled at and approached by men of different ages, mainly from North African origin. One moment some guy brutally asks her if she wants to accompany him to his apartment, the next she’s called a “bitch” or a “slut”.

CLICK TO WATCH THE TRAILER:

Allegedly, this isn’t just a problem in Brussels. French feminist groups seized on the film to trigger debates on similar problems in France. And a May 2012 poll found that four in ten young women had been sexually harassed in London over the past year (according to The Guardian, August 3, 2012).

  • “I WANT TO CHASE WOMEN, BUT I WANT MY WOMAN TO BE CHASTE…”

Of course sexism isn’t tied to any one culture. It should be clear that Sofie Peeters is not targeting Islam, for instance, or African men. Her film aims at unraveling the logic of male sexism, which can be found across cultures and in different types. My pupils, for instance, nod affirmatively when I present them with the names a flirty guy often gets on the one hand, and a flirty girl on the other: the former is sometimes rather positively called “playa”, while the latter is more easily referred to in degrading terms as “slut” or “whore”. Most of my pupils are not Muslim or African. Most of them are native, privileged Belgians, and they readily acknowledge that this kind of double-standard sexist speech exists in their social environment as well. It seems that more difficult social and economic circumstances only enhance this ever lurking presence of the male machismo. Michael Eric Dyson very clearly shows this while explaining the roots of men’s ambiguous treatment of women in hip-hop culture. Another book addressing the same issue, and well worth mentioning, is Tracy Denean Sharpley-Whiting’s Pimps Up, Ho’s Down – Hip Hop’s Hold on Young Black Women (New York University Press, 2007). Here are some thought-provoking quotes on the subject from Dyson’s book Holler If You Hear Me – Searching For Tupac Shakur (Plexus Publishing, London, 2001) – which balance a more positive assessment of hip-hop’s liberating potentials in this previous post.

p. 184-185: If social empathy for young black males is largely absent in public opinion and public policies, the lack of understanding and compassion for the difficulties faced by poor young black females is even more deplorable. There exists within quarters of black life a range of justifications for black male behavior. Even if they are not wholly accepted by other blacks or by the larger culture, such justifications have a history and possess social resonance. Young black males hustle because they are poor. They become pimps and playas because the only role models they had are pimps and playas. Black males rob because they are hungry. They have babies because they seek to prove their masculinity in desultory paternity. They rap about violence because they came to maturity in enclaves of civic horror where violence is the norm. Black males do poorly in school because they are deprived of opportunity and ambition. Yet there are few comparable justifications for the black female’s beleaguered status.

p. 186: In its punishing hypocrisy, hip-hop at once deplores and craves the exuded, paraded sexuality of the “ho.” As it is with most masculine cultures, many of the males in hip-hop seek promiscuous sex while resenting the women with whom they share it. This variety of femiphobia turns on the stylish dishonesty that is transmuted into masculine wisdom: Never love or partner with the women you sleep with. Such logic imbues the male psyche with a toleration of split affinities that keep it from being fatally (as opposed to usefully) divided – the male can enjoy the very thing he despises, as long as it assumes its “proper” place. In order for “it” – promiscuous sex – to assume its proper place in male lives, women must assume their proper places. They must occupy their assigned roles with an eye to fulfilling their function as determined by men. If they are “hos,” they are to give unlimited, uncontested sex. If they are girlfriends or wives, they are to provide a stable domestic environment where sex is dutiful and proper. The entire arrangement is meant to maximize male sexual autonomy while limiting female sexuality, even if by dividing it into acceptable and unacceptable categories. The thought that a girlfriend or wife might be an ex-ho is a painful thought in such circles. The hip-hop credo can be summed up in this way: I want to chase women, but I want my woman to be chaste.

p. 188-189: Human sexuality is a complex amalgam of competing interests that claim space in our evolving erotic identities. If human beings are to test the integrity and strength of their sexual identity, they must experiment with a variety of partners and circumstances to define their erotic temperament. At different points in life, different identities emerge, different priorities surface. […] If Tupac’s position – and by extension, hip-hop’s views – can be said to be hypocritical, it is because it reserved that prerogative exclusively for the male gender. When women exercise that prerogative, they are scathingly attacked. When men do so, they are seen as normal and healthy. What may be even more hypocritical – since many rappers claim to stand against white dominance – is hip-hop’s broad endorsement of conservative beliefs about female sexuality. When rappers express femiphobic stances, they often recycle stereotypes of poor black women promoted by right-wing hacks [becoming the “double” of their supposed enemies]: All they want is welfare, more babies, no work, and the freedom to party as they destroy the family and drive the men away.

Another feature of femiphobic culture is the simplistic division of women into angels and demons, both of which are problematic. If women are viewed as angels, the moment they depart from prescribed behavior they’re made into whores or bitches. If they are viewed as demons, it denies the complex sexual personae that all human beings express… Tupac’s femiphobia was certainly of this Manichean variety. “He definitely believed there were two kinds of women,” Jada Pinkett Smith says. “Which was a danger for Pac, because he had a way of putting you on a pedestal, and if there was one thing you did wrong, he would swear you were the devil.”

The male psyche indeed often suspects there’s a demonic old witch lurking beneath the surface of angelic princesses and queens...

  • SEXIST DEPICTIONS OF WOMEN – WOMEN AS “SCAPEGOATS”

Canadian author Jane Billinghurst assembled a “lusciously illustrated exploration of the temptress”, describing how this male and ambiguously valorized image of women has been ever present in human culture – through myth, historical accounts, film and art in general. Her book is aptly entitled Temptress (Greystone Books, Douglas & McIntyre Publishing Group, Vancouver/Toronto/Berkeley/New York, 2003). It gives a delightful overview of the contradictory meanings the image of the temptress is associated with, especially when adopted by women themselves.

First woman to come to the fore in Billinghurst’s book is Lilith, a female demon, a “monster woman”, mostly known because of the medieval Jewish text The Alphabet of Ben Sira, although her origins can be traced back to far more ancient times.

Here’s Billinghurst’s version of the Lilith story – p. 16-17:

Male painters of Victorian England were fascinated by the independent sexuality of Eve’s predecessor and Adam’s first wife, the mysterious Lilith. Created Adam’s equal, according to medieval Jewish folklore, Lilith was appalled when her husband insisted on the missionary position for sex. She knew she had been made from the same clay that he had, and she wanted an equal say in how their love life unfolded. She wanted to experiment with this new flesh, to explore the range of pleasures it could provide.

Adam, in contrast, was rather prude. The idea of creating a sexual dialogue, of reacting to the signs fed back to his body from Lilith’s, of following an impulse not knowing where it might lead, was foreign to him. He did not yet know enough about his own urges to feel comfortable abandoning himself to Lilith’s. He refused to listen to his wife, and Lilith submitted to night after night of missionary sex – her mind, no doubt, on other things, like the wide expanse of the night sky, the rustling of creatures in the bushes… and the possibilities of life without Adam.

Resentment built in Lilith until she could stand it no longer. Undaunted by the fact that she knew nothing about the world outside paradise, according to the text of The Alphabet of Ben Sira, she “uttered the ineffable name of God,” the gates of Eden swung open, and off she went to make her own way in the world, unencumbered by her sexually unimaginative husband.

Lilith’s life from then on has been portrayed as one long party. She went to the Red Sea, where she cavorted with all manner of hideous demons, indulging in whatever sexual positions she wanted and producing hundreds of demon children. When Adam complained to God that his supposed helpmeet had left him, God sent three angels to bring Lilith back to where she belonged. But she refused to return: she had found a place where she could indulge her sexuality, and she had no regrets.

Despite her new lifestyle, Lilith never completely severed her ties with the uptight male to whom she had once been married. After Adam lost his immortality and begat humankind, Lilith started taking the lives of young children, creeping in at night through open windows and snatching their breath away. When unsuspecting parents tried to wake their offspring, they found that their previously healthy babies had died in the night. The three angels were horrified by such heartless, vindictive behavior. They could not force Lilith to return to Eden, but they did strike a bargain with her. Her window of opportunity for such malicious behavior was restricted to eight days after birth for baby boys and twenty days for baby girls. In addition, if amulets were hung inscribed with the angel’s names – Senoy, Sansenoy, and Semangelof – Lilith agreed to stay away.

Strangling babies while they slept was not Lilith’s only revenge against the man who had denied her pleasure. She also wafted into the dreams of men who slept alone. A slight rub of skin on skin or skin on sheet, and the men could not help but react physically to the thoughts she conjured up. The wet dream was her gift to the sons of Adam. A slight morning stickiness, proof of the nocturnal emission, was often the only sign of her visit – and a yearning to remember just what pleasure it was that she had promised as she passed by.

Lilith lingers in the thoughts of men as a reminder of sexual opportunities lost or not yet found. Here was a woman who was not afraid to take charge, who could imagine delights of which Adam could not conceive. To abandon oneself to the charms of such a woman – who knows where that might lead? Men have been wondering ever since.

Although this story could be interpreted as a story about an emancipated woman in some contexts – as Billinghurst suggests at the end of her account –, it should first be considered as a typically male and actually sexist depiction of female sexuality. Moreover, the question remains how women can truly emancipate themselves from male imagination if they simply imitate the images they’re presented with, while arguing – in a spirit of rivalry between the sexes – that they have every right to claim those images as their own. For the time being, I let this question to be answered by the pop diva’s of this world, like Madonna. Let’s take a closer look at how female sexuality and the relationship between the sexes is portrayed in the story of Lilith:

  1. A woman who desires sexual freedom and who wants to have a say in her own destiny transgresses a sacred order of things, disrespecting important taboos that try to avoid chaos in human life. Lilith “uttered the ineffable name of God…”
  2. A woman who desires sexual freedom and who wants to have a say in her own destiny is responsible for all kinds of evil in the world and the loss of what could be “paradise”. How could such a woman be a good mother to her children? She’s a deadly disruption of family life, as she is unable to provide a sustainable environment for children. Undaunted by the fact that she knew nothing about the world outside paradise, Lilith uttered the ineffable name of God, the gates of Eden swung open, and off she went to make her own way in the world… After Adam lost his immortality and begat humankind, Lilith started taking the lives of young children, creeping in at night through open windows and snatching their breath away. When unsuspecting parents tried to wake their offspring, they found that their previously healthy babies had died in the night…
  3. Men are merely helpless victims of a woman who desires sexual freedom and who wants to have a say in her own destiny. Unfortunately, men cannot always be on guard against the seductive powers of the demonic woman. The wet dream was Lilith’s gift to the sons of Adam. A slight morning stickiness, proof of the nocturnal emission, was often the only sign of her visit…

A main challenge for humankind has always been how to restore “paradise” in times of crisis. As the story of Lilith and many other myths make clear, sexuality – especially from the female side – has always been experienced as one of the main sources of turmoil. That’s why sexuality is regulated culturally. It’s often considered taboo because of the possible destructive outcomes it’s associated with. On the other hand, however, fertile sexuality is also needed to secure the survival and stability of communities. Ritualistic “arrangements” – from (temple) prostitution to the institution of marriage – try to give sexuality a proper place in society, so it can be experienced in its beneficial aspects.

No wonder then that certain individuals, who don’t seem to respect a community’s peculiar cultural arrangement of taboos and rituals, are often perceived as provocative and dangerous. They are easily sacrificed, allegedly in order to protect the community from more or imminent chaos. The social mind (male as well as female) actually always suspects sexually independent women who don’t seem to care about our long and diverse traditions of patriarchal taboos and rituals.

Sexually independent women are fascinating and threatening at the same time, revered and loathed, loved and hated. They are mysterious, seemingly beyond any control, evoking the numinous experience of the sacred – Rudolf Otto (1869-1937) speaks of “the holy”. Other women jealously admire them, while men desire them, resenting the destructive power they seem to posses. As Michael Eric Dyson pointed out, hip-hop culture is one clear example where these dynamics come to the fore. Desired and despised “hos” or “whores” are often the first to fall victim to the hidden fears of men and women whose sense of identity feels threatened.

The image of sexually independent, “adulterous” women who are sacrificed – mostly stoned to death – in order to “cleanse” a community, is, however sadly, deeply embedded in our social consciousness. Adulterous men are spared because they are perceived as poor victims of “evil” and “dangerous” temptresses. Men are said not to be responsible for their own words or actions towards sexually independent women. They justify themselves by making these women entirely responsible for what happens to them, saying that these women “provoked” them. The case of Sarah Tobias, who was gang raped, is but one well-known example where this kind of sick reasoning was applied. Her story provided the subject for The Accused, a 1988 Jonathan Kaplan movie with an Oscar winning Jodie Foster portraying Tobias. The men who raped Sarah Tobias tried to defend themselves by insinuating that they fell victim to the seductive and promiscuous attitude of the woman. The reaction of Sharia4Belgium against Sofie Peeters’ Femme de la Rue is analogous. According to this group of Muslims, Peeters was sexually harassed because she “provoked” men by “dressing like a whore”.

Poor, helpless men! Whether men abuse the name of God as an addition in the justification of their own (verbal or physical) violence or not, the bottom line remains: the harassed, raped or stoned victim is a scapegoat – held responsible for the violence she has to endure and accused of the turmoil men experience in their desires, while in fact being innocent. Let’s face it: are men really that weak that they cannot master their own desires, words or actions? And let’s face something else: who’s the real victim, the – seemingly – sexually independent and dangerously powerful seductive woman who’s stoned to death, or the men who stone her? Is she able to defend herself against those so-called “weak”, but nevertheless so-called “heroic” men? Being stoned is passive. To stone is active. For once our language doesn’t lie in presenting the natural order of things.

  • AN EXPLANATION OF SEXISM FROM THE POINT OF VIEW OF MIMETIC THEORY

In order to explain a variety of religious and cultural phenomena and the often contradictory things they’re associated with, René Girard proposes to look for the way these phenomena can be traced back to violent situations and the attempts to cope with this violence. So, to understand the different cultural interpretations of sexuality, and female sexuality in particular – in its demonic as well as in its divine “sacred” aspects –, we should ask ourselves: what could be the basic connection between heterosexuality – since this is what interests us at the moment – and violence? The answer from Girard’s so-called “mimetic theory” is quite obvious: women are often objects of “mimetic desire”, and this desire leads to “mimetic rivalry” or violence.

Mimetic or imitative desire emerges when two or more individuals more or less unwittingly take each other as a model for their own desire. Imitating someone else in desiring a certain object always complicates my relationship with the other. Taking the other as a model for my desire also means that he becomes an obstacle in the pursuit for the object we simultaneously desire. In this way the other appears as someone I admire (whereby I take him as a model), while at the same time he appears as someone I envy (as he becomes an obstacle who tries to posses what I consider rightfully mine). The other, in short, becomes my partner in a mutual love/hate relationship. Since he possesses a similar capacity for imitation, the other will in turn take me as a model, thereby reinforcing his own desire. This process makes me, again, an obstacle for him – his “double” – and this dynamic indeed all too often ends up in an inextricable “mimetic rivalry” (a rivalry based on imitation). And indeed: a classic, archetypal example of this kind of competition is the rivalry between two (or more) men desiring the same woman.

Mimetic rivals remain blind for their interdependency. They are both convinced of the “originality” of their own desire and perceive the other as wrongfully laying claim to something that’s not his or hers. In the end it’s not about obtaining certain objects anymore, but about obtaining a kind of prestige, image or status. More specifically, both rivals desire the other to acknowledge them as autonomously desiring individuals. However, the more they desire to convince themselves and the other of their own glamorous autonomy, the more this desire is mutually imitated and the more this autonomy remains an object(ive) that is not obtained – and so remains desired. Mimesis or imitation stays the hidden source of a tragic competition wherein rivals more and more become each other’s equals as they try to distinguish themselves from each other. Mimesis stays the hidden source of an ever increasing desire for “uniqueness” and “independency”, and an ever increasing failure of reaching these goals.

So what did ancient men do, men who had to fear the competition and violence of fellow men – a violence which could destroy the stability and eventual survival of their community? What did they do to enforce and secure their own status and prestige? Well, apparently they set up different systems of taboos, rituals, plays and games to prevent mimetic competitive tendencies from becoming destructive to community life. But in coping with violence associated with heterosexuality, men failed to take into account their own share and responsibility in that violence, unable to fully acknowledge the mimetic nature of their desires. Instead, women had to take responsibility for the behavior of men: in one culture they had to wear a veil in public “to protect the honor of their husband”, while in another they had to act as mesmerizing and beautiful temptresses – trophies to show off a man’s success and status. Female sexuality was regulated to fulfill men’s expectations and to keep them from fighting each other: prostitutes were considered no one man and every man’s possession – often hailed, in the case of temple prostitution, as allowing the potentially violent nature of “sacred” sexuality in a beneficiary way, while in other cultural contexts also despised as a kind of “necessary evil”.

But enough with this past tense! If one thing becomes clear from the above mentioned examples of certain tendencies in today’s hip-hop culture, Sofie Peeters’ Femme de la Rue, the “gang rape” case of Sarah Tobias, and Sharia4Belgium’s reaction against Peeters, it’s this: we, men, still very often fail to realize how we turn women into scapegoats – victims accused of things they’re not (or certainly not fully – where’s the adulterous husband while adulterous women are stoned to death?) responsible for.

Girard’s mimetic theory explains how sexist tendencies originate in men’s inability to locate the real source of instability and violence in the context of heterosexuality. Instead of acknowledging that anger and rivalry emerge because of the mimetic nature of their desire, men mistakenly locate the source of their anger and rivalry in the object of their desire: the woman. She thus has to pay the price to fulfill men’s lust for status, honor, power and prestige. From the sexist point of view, women are to be respected if they “honor” men’s status, and only then! A sexist man’s love for status is worth more to him than the love for the well-being and happiness of his closest “other” and neighbor – his wife. That’s why a sexist man can be called idolatrous: kneeling to the “divine” image he has created of himself, while failing to love the “other” who does not necessarily answer his needs (which precisely makes the other “other”).

  • WOMEN, JESUS AND ROCK ‘N’ ROLL

In my book Vrouwen, Jezus en rock-‘n-roll (Altiora Averbode, 2009) – “Women, Jesus and rock ‘n’ roll” , I suggested a feminist reading of the story of the Fall in Genesis. Like Pandora in Greek mythology, Eve is portrayed as being mainly responsible for the evils humankind has to suffer. So the sexist element is clearly present in the Hebrew Bible as well. No doubt about that. It’s no wonder that Michelangelo (1475-1564) even depicted the seductive and “dangerous” serpent as a woman in his paintings at the Sistine Chappell. Eve is an “Eve of destruction”.

A more contextual reading, however, delivers different results. In short, Eve is not condemned because she is a woman, but because she is unable to resist a destructive kind of envy (or, more generally, “mimetic desire”). Consider this analogy with a story a few chapters further on in the book of Genesis: Cain is not condemned because he is the oldest of two sons, but because he is unable to resist a destructive kind of jealousy – he kills his brother Abel.

So amidst sexist tendencies there are also texts in the Bible which criticize the mechanisms that turn women into scapegoats. I tried to make this clear in a further contextual reading of the Song of Songs, taking the story of Jesus’ forgiveness of an adulterous woman in John 8:1-11 and his consideration of prostitutes in Matthew 21:28-32 as interpretive keys. But it would go too far to explain this here. Suffice to say that some important biblical texts are surprisingly subversive – “rock ‘n’ roll” indeed – towards the mechanisms that turn women into scapegoats.

This is in line with Girard’s claim that the Hebrew Bible and the New Testament gradually attack the core of scapegoat mechanisms as the cornerstones of human relationships. Christ, in entering that core by offering to become the forgiving substitute victim of all scapegoats, transforms human relationships from within in a way that no other human being seems to have done. But to grasp this more fully I advise the reader to delve into the work of James Alison.

Anyway, Christ – as others have done – challenges us to build our relationships on “love for our neighbor” instead of on “love for our status or our prestige”. So if a woman wears a veil, the question should not be whether and on what grounds she is obligated to wear a veil. The question should be what motivates her to wear a veil: is it fear of losing her status in the eyes of her husband and other men if she doesn’t, or is it a freely chosen way of expressing the unique type of love she feels for her husband? In the latter case, she won’t be offended or feel threatened if other women don’t follow her example. Because she has freely chosen to wear a veil, she will not be jealous or resentful towards women without a veil. If, on the other hand, she chooses to wear a veil out of fear, she might develop resentment towards women who seem to “get away” with not wearing a veil. The only thing she can do then is to convince herself that her masochistic and “heroic” self-sacrifice is a way to attain a “sacred” (or “holy”) status – which is a way of self-glorification by submitting to a supposedly admirable (self-) image or idol. This kind of perverse, masochistic and often violent martyrdom is all too familiar. Which brings me to the heart of modern fundamentalism and its continuation of sexist tendencies.

  • “CHECK FOR TREACHEROUS WOMEN”  WITHIN AND OUTSIDE FUNDAMENTALISM

In his book, Religion Explained – The Evolutionary Origins of Religious Thought (Basic Books, New York, 2001), French anthropologist Pascal Boyer explains how fundamentalist religious communities have the tendency to “check for cheaters or defectors” as a means to (re)structure themselves and strengthen their coalitions. The public and “spectacular” punishment of defectors – i.e. individuals who are perceived as being not loyal or a threat to a community’s traditionally informed identity –, is a powerful signal to discourage further infidelity, especially in times of crisis.

Guomundur Ingi Markusson pointed out some very interesting connections between Boyer’s evolutionary psychology and René Girard’s mimetic theory in an article for Contagion (number 11; Violent Memes and Suspicious Minds: Girard’s Scapegoat Mechanism in the Light of Evolution and Memetics). Markusson rightly quotes the following passage from Boyer’s Religion Explained, wherein Boyer explains how fundamentalism originated as a modern religious phenomenon (more specifically as an attempt to “restructure traditional coalitions” in the face of secular society’s indifference towards religious demands that are considered necessary) – p. 294:

The message from the modern world is not just that other ways of living are possible, that some people may not believe, or believe differently, or feel unconstrained by religious morality, or (in the case of women) make their own decisions without male supervision. The message is also that people can do that without paying a heavy price. Nonbelievers or believers in another faith are not ostracized; those who break free of religious morality, as long as they abide by the laws, still have a normal social position; and women who dispense with male chaperons do not visibly suffer as a consequence. This “message” may seem so obvious to us that we fail to realize how seriously it threatens social interaction that is based on coalitional thinking. Seen from the point of view of a religious coalition, the fact that many choices can be made in modern conditions without paying a heavy price means that defection is not costly and is therefore very likely.

So, also in the case of modern fundamentalism, independent women not only pose a challenge to male dominance, authority and self-esteem, but also to the very basis of community life and cultural identity. That’s why the fundamentalist reflex consists in treating sexually independent women as “whores”. They are allowed to carry out a relative independency only if they are willing to pay the price of being “public property” – belonging to no one man and to all men. Because of their outspoken indifference towards cultural taboos and ritualistic arrangements (such as marriage), these women are “defectors”. They are perceived as suspicious threats to “the normal state of affairs”, and shouldn’t go totally “unpunished”.  They could receive some form of respect if they played along with male expectations, but, as I mentioned earlier, they are easily victimized in times of crisis. Even if they have nothing to do with the crisis itself. In this sense we could compare these women with ancient Greek pharmakoi – scapegoat victims that were sacrificed in times of social turmoil or ecological disasters.

  • THE CASE OF MATA HARI

A famous example of a (seemingly) sexually independent and seductive woman who was sacrificed in uncertain times is Dutch-born beauty Mata Hari (1876-1917), an exotic dancer. I’d like to end this post by citing the story of her untimely death, as Jane Billinghurst describes it in the aforementioned book Temptress. Mata Hari wanted to work as a spy for the French during the First World War. Unfortunately for her, things got out of hand. It should be clear, from these and other already mentioned cases, that sexism is not a unique characteristic of a certain type of Islam, or of certain passages in the Bible, or of certain tendencies in African (American) culture, or of white male conservatives. It’s a cross-cultural, all too present reality with a long history in many (often contradictory) guises. Here’s the quote from Billinghurst’s book – p. 88-91:

Mata Hari [eager to earn her reward from the French, working as a spy] set her sights on the conquest of the German envoy in Madrid, Major Arnold von Kalle. The investigative work that led her to him was simple: she looked up his name in the phone book, requested an appointment, and set to work. She coyly described her technique: “I did what a woman does in such circumstances where she wants to make a conquest of a gentleman, and I soon realized that von Kalle was mine.”

Unfortunately for Mata Hari, von Kalle suspected her motives and decided to send messages to Germany about her in a code he knew the Allies had broken. If she was working for the French, these messages would make them believe she was working for him as well. The ploy worked. The French, anxious to crack down on spies to boost morale in their ravaged country, hauled Mata Hari in. The dancer-cum-courtesan-cum-amateur spy could not believe it. She protested vehemently that the only spying she had done had been for France. The French authorities needed a scapegoat, however, and Mata Hari fit the bill perfectly.

Sexy and unnervingly independent, she was definitely the kind of woman it was dangerous to have around. The stage had proved to be a place of liberation for many women in the early twentieth century, but when the war came, actresses and dancers, who often supplemented their incomes as mistresses and courtesans, were looked down on as subversive forces likely to upset the order of the world. Women feted for their performances when all was right with the world were now highly suspect. They not only ignored the rules but were privy to the most intimate thoughts and most unguarded moments of powerful men. If they slept with men for money, these self-centered, subversive creatures were also likely to sleep with them for secrets. The more erotic the woman, the more havoc she could wreak. And Mata Hari, a woman to whom borders meant nothing, was eroticism personified. She had to be stopped.

On 13 February 1917, Mata Hari was arrested on charges of espionage and taken to the Saint-Lazare prison for women. When Mata Hari had choreographed her dance performances, she had skillfully woven into her persona hints of temptresses past, such as the forbidden Oriental delights of Cleopatra. When times were good, such associations had served to heighten her appeal, but in the atmosphere of suspicion and intrigue of the war, associations with the exotic “other” now conjured up images of treachery rather than pleasure. Mata Hari’s dark complexion, which previously had intrigued, now disgusted. Given the kind of woman she was, Lieutenant André Mornet, the prosecuting attorney for the Third Council of War in France, explained why she had to be guilty:

“The Zelle lady appeared to us as one of those international women – the word is her own – who have become so dangerous since the hostilities. The ease with which she expresses herself in several languages, especially French, her numerous relations, her subtle ways, her aplomb, her remarkable intelligence, her immortality, congenital or acquired, all contributed to make her a suspect.”

The media quickly made the connection between Mata Hari and the images of evil women that had been hanging in galleries and fleshed out in literature over the past fifty years just waiting for a moment such as this. She was described as “a sinister Salome, who played with the heads of our soldiers in front of the German Herod.” She was compared to Delilah, another expert in getting men to spill deadly secrets. Her frank sexuality was cited as proof of her capacity for betrayal.

Gustave Steinhauer, a German spymaster, wrote that women became spies because of their lust for excitement Whereas the male spy worked for the good of his country, the female spy was focused on self-gratification. And because of their inherently treacherous natures, women who turned to espionage were “far more cunning, far more adroit… than the most accomplished masculine spy.” A novel based on Mata Hari’s story emphasizes the intense personal satisfaction a woman derives from betrayal when the central character exclaims: “How I would fasten my mouth against their hearts! And I would suck them – I would suck them until there wasn’t a drop of blood left, tossing away their empty carcasses.” Appalled, those responsible for keeping order in times of mass destruction closed ranks against the independent international woman and had her shot.

Mata Hari was a sexual adventuress who had the temerity to assert herself in areas of male privilege. She herself had sketched the details that would ensure her destruction. She had portrayed herself as a woman without borders, a woman with an exotic past who reveled in the delights of sex. As long as peace reigned in Europe, such a woman drew crowds anxious to experience a vicarious thrill. When war broke out, however, men knew from all they had read and heard that a woman of Mata Hari’s type was deadly.

The French prosecutors in Mata Hari’s case rushed through the formalities to ensure that justice was done. The jury was swept along on the coattails of their conviction, even though, as the prosecutors later admitted, there was not enough evidence against Mata Hari “to whip a cat.” The temptress mantle she had draped so coquettishly around her shoulders proved to be too effective a costume. The French firing squad believed it was doing its God-given duty when it reduced this vital and proud woman, who had brought so much pleasure to so many men, to nothing more than a “crumpled heap of petticoats,” stripped of all their menacing power.

The storytellers warn that when men are enraptured by women such as Salome and Delilah, they make wild promises and whisper secrets that contain the seeds of their undoing. Subversive temptresses of this ilk are so firmly entrenched in the collective male imagination that the image is easily transferred to real-life women who may – or may not – harbor the destructive, chaotic tendencies men are so quick to ascribe to them. An unfortunate few, like Mata Hari, find that the wave of male desires that sweeps them to success when the future looks bright turns into an undertow of male suspicion that drags them down when the tide turns.

“I hate all this philosophical mumbo-jumbo! It just doesn’t make any sense!”

I’ve experienced reactions like these from my students quite often while trying to teach them some philosophy. They express the normal frustration people get when they just don’t seem to succeed in mastering the issues they’re facing. To be honest, I more than once imitated their feelings of despair by getting frustrated and impatient myself about their inability to understand what I was trying to say. The story of students blaming teachers for not explaining things well enough, and of teachers responding that their students just don’t try hard enough, is all too familiar. But, at the end of the day, having worked through some negative emotions, I somehow always manage to sit down at my desk and try to improve upon my part of communicating. I can only hope it stays that way.

The writings of Jewish philosopher Emmanuel Levinas are not always easy to understand, let alone agree with. Roger Burggraeve, one of my professors at the University of Leuven, has proven to be an excellent guide to introduce me to the philosophy of Levinas (click here for an excellent summary by Burggraeve). But explanations at an academic level are not always easily transferable to a high school level. Regarding Levinas I’m faced with the challenge to explain something about his thoughts on “the Other” and “the Other’s face”. Although Levinas’ musings often appear to be highly abstract for someone who didn’t receive any proper philosophical training, his thinking springs from very “earthly”, even dark realities and experiences – especially the experience of the Holocaust. Levinas’ response to the threat of totalitarianism is actually very down to earth, but because it wants to be “fundamental”, I can imagine it indeed sometimes comes across as mumbo-jumbo to sixteen year olds.

Luckily enough for me, as a teacher, an episode of The Fresh Prince of Bel Air (season 3, episode 12 The Cold War) can help to make clear what “the encounter with the Other” could be like in a particular situation. Moreover, it also serves as a good way to connect René Girard’s mimetic theory with some of Levinas’ main insights. Here’s the story:

Will and his nephew Carlton have a crush on the same girl, Paula. Carlton had been the first to date Paula, but after introducing her to Will, she also becomes Will’s object of interest. Will imitates the desire of Carlton and, upon noticing this, Carlton in turn reinforces his desire for Paula by imitating his new rival Will. This is a prime and archetypal example of what Girard has labeled mimetic (or imitative) desire, which potentially leads to mimetic rivalry. Will and Carlton become each other’s obstacles in the pursuit of an object (in this case a person, Paula) they point to each other as desirable. They become jealous of each other and try to out compete one another. They both fear the other as a threat to their self-esteem and independency. Ironically however, as they try to differ themselves from each other by unwittingly imitating each other’s desire, they resemble each other more and more. In fact, their sense of “being” becomes truly dependent on the other they despise. They end up dueling each other in a pillow fight, trying to settle the score.

At one moment, near the end of Will and Carlton’s fight, something happens which indeed illustrates what Levinas means with “response to the Other’s face” (click here for some excerpts from Levinas’ Ethics as First Philosophy). Will pretends to be severely injured (“My eye!”), whereon Carlton totally withdraws from the fight. Carlton finds himself confronted with Will’s vulnerability, and is genuinely concerned for his nephew’s well-being. The Other he was fighting turns out to be more than his rival, more than the product of his (worst) imaginations. Indeed, before being a rival the Other “is simply there“, not reducible to any of our concerns, desires or anxieties. Carlton is not concerned for his own sake: he doesn’t seem to fear any punishment, nor does he seem to desire any reward while showing his care for Will. He abandons all actions of self-interest “in the wink of an eye”.

This is an ethical moment, as Levinas understands it. It goes beyond utilitarianism which, as it turns out, justifies itself as being “good” by arguing that self-interest (i.e. what proves useful for one’s own well-being) eventually serves the interest (well-being) of others as well. Putting forward the effect on the well-being of others as justification for utilitarianism is telling, and shows that utilitarianism in itself doesn’t seem to be “enough” as a foundation for ethics. Moreover, utilitarianism serves the interests of “the majority”, which threatens to overlook what happens to minorities “other than” that majority. Sometimes sacrificing a minority might seem “logical” from this point of view. By contrast, in what is “the ethical moment” according to Levinas, one fears being a murderer more than one’s own death. In other words, provoked by the Other’s “nakedness” and “vulnerability” (the Other’s face which lies beyond our visible descriptions and labeling of the Other), OUR FEAR OF THE OTHER IS TRANSFORMED IN FEAR FOR THE OTHER. The mimetic rivalry between Will and Carlton is thus interrupted until, of course, Will reveals he was only joking about his injury… and the pillow fight continues.

CLICK TO WATCH:

Eventually, Will and Carlton quit fighting and start confessing their wrongdoings towards one another. They no longer imitate each other’s desire to assert themselves over against one another, but they imitate each other in being vulnerable and forgiving, recognizing “each Other”. They imitate each other’s withdrawal from mimetically converging desire and rivalry. It is by becoming “Other” to one another that they paradoxically gain a new sense of “self”, as an unexpected consequence…

Enjoy that grand twist of humor in Will Smith’s unexpected philosophy class…

CLICK TO WATCH:

Once there was this girl, having the time of her life in a happy relationship. Until her boyfriend cheated on her. After that, she couldn’t go on with him. So they broke up.

A year later, she met this other guy. Love at first sight. They started dating. A few months down the road of this new romantic affair, a little fear started creeping into her mind: “What if I’ll be cheated on, again?” The fear grew bigger, as did her desire to safeguard her relationship. So she started controlling her new boyfriend, pressing him to inform her about his whereabouts. He didn’t do anything wrong, but he nevertheless had to suffer from her anxieties. Until he couldn’t stand it any longer, and her worst fear came true: he broke up with her. Tragic. Ironic. All she had done to avoid the destruction of the relationship brought about the relationship’s downfall. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it… (Matthew 16:25a).

What happened? Well, the girl was hurt, and she had been sad and angry because of it. Instead of letting go of her sadness and frustration, she started focusing on these emotions again while being in a new relationship. And she started hurting a guy who hadn’t done anything to cause her pain, insinuating he was not trustworthy and accusing him of being a liar and a cheater. In other words, she imitated the blows inflicted on her persona by inflicting similar blows on someone else. It was her way of taking revenge. Her new boyfriend turned out to be her scapegoat: someone who had to answer for her anger, although he was innocent. There is indeed, as René Girard and so many other Christian thinkers rightly point out, a nearly inextricable connection between the mimetic principle of vengeance and the scapegoating impulse.

In order to break the vicious cycle of hurt inflicting hurt – the cycle of original sin -, Christ invites us to take part in an act of creation. This is a creatio ex nihilo (creation out of nothing), meaning that our actions are no longer defined by the lesser and greater evil we endured in the past. To return to the situation of the girl: Christ invites her to “turn the other cheek” as she begins a new relationship. To turn the other cheek indeed means that you refuse to let your relationships and yourself be defined by the hurtful mechanisms that eventually destroy relationships. Christ invites the girl to trust being vulnerable again. He invites her to keep faith over fear – for “fear leads to anger, to hate, to suffering” as some famous wise man summarized Christ’s advice…

Forgiveness is at the heart of creation, destabilizing the balance of “eye for eye, tooth for tooth” – for, as some other wise man allegedly said: “An eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind”. Coming from outside the cycle of bad deeds or “bad karma“, the grace of forgiveness opens up the possibility of a new kind of imitation or mimesis. Instead of imitating each other in trying to assert ourselves over against one another – as theologian James Alison would say –, “turning the other cheek” is an invitation to begin an imitation of recognizing and accepting each other’s vulnerability. Recognizing that “no one is without sin”, in order to end “casting the first stone”. It’s an invitation to shy away from self-assertion over against one another – which would be called a movement of kenosis (“self-emptying”) in theological terms. The imitatio Christi would thus lead to the recovery of human beings, for “being human” means “being in relationships”, and the act of grace Christ invites us to take part in is precisely aimed at restoring those relationships. Therefore: Whoever loses his life for me will find it… (Matthew 16:25b).

So Matthew 5:38-39 is not an invitation to be masochistic. It’s quite the opposite. It’s a radical refusal to surrender to the evil that we experience from time to time. It’s an invitation to obey the creative call of Love (click here to read more) – which is, paradoxically, truly liberating:

“You have heard that it was said, ‘Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth.’But I tell you, Do not resist an evil person. If someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also…”

[on two types of “rewards” – goals or consequences of one’s actions? – and the implications for human interactions]

“If there is no God, everything is permitted…”

This is basically the challenging idea of Ivan Karamazov, one of the main characters in The Brothers Karamazov, the famous novel by Fyodor Dostoevsky (1821-1881). Could this be true in any way?

At the beginning of a new year, I always ask my students the following questions:

Suppose there is no principal’s office, suppose you could never be punished for any of your actions – would you still respect your fellow students and your teacher?

Suppose there are no grades to win, and you didn’t receive any reward for studying your courses and reading your books – would you still listen to your teachers and study?

What would you do if you are not watched, if you live outside “the empire of the watchmen”?

Consider Matthew 6:1-2 & 6:5: Be careful not to practice your righteousness in front of others to be seen by them. […] So when you give to the needy, do not announce it with trumpets, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and on the streets, to be honored by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full. […] And when you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full.

To put things slightly differently:

Suppose there is no hell, no punishment in any way, would you still respect your fellow man?

Suppose there is no heaven, no reward in any way, would you still respect your fellow man?

Actually, this is the kind of challenge Christianity puts us to. Christ teaches us that there isn’t something like a heaven as an established “world” for which we should bring all kinds of sacrifices in order to obtain it. As if heaven would be the ultimate goal and justification of our existence. That’s exactly like the reasoning of a student who is prepared to work hard at his courses and to obey his teachers, not because he’s intrinsically interested in his courses or respectful of his teachers, but because he considers getting good grades as his ticket to success, power and happiness – “paradise”.

Christ subverts this sacrificial logic. Rather than being an ultimate goal that justifies, explains and gives meaning to our life, “heaven” is the potential consequence of our actions. By taking up responsibility for ourselves and one another, by loving our neighbor (which is “the righteousness of God’s Kingdom”), we co-create “heaven”. To use the student-analogy again: the student who learns to be genuinely interested in his courses will get good grades as a logical consequence of his love for studying. And he will have learned something!

Consider Matthew 6:25-34: Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? And why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? Therefore do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.

Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.

On the other hand, those students who are focused only on getting good grades and who fear failure will tend to forget what they have learned from the moment they have their grades and no longer “need” the information from their courses. Or they will stop being friendly to their former teachers once they have graduated.

In short, Christ doesn’t want us to respect our neighbor because we fear hellish punishment or long for some heavenly reward. He wants us to respect our neighbor because of our neighbor. He liberates us from a system of fear and anxiety based on punishments and rewards, creates the possibility of responsibility (because only a free man can be responsible) and genuine love – without ulterior motives -, and transforms the nature of sacrifice. In Christ’s view, sacrifice is not a gift to receive something from someone you need, nor is it a necessary obligation to protect some kind of “honor gone mad” (see the tragedy of Japanese kamikaze pilots during the Second World War),  but it is a gift from people who are thankful for what they already received by living up to the possibilities of their freedom.

Consider Matthew 5:23-24: So if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go. First be reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer your gift.

Of course, there’s a dark side as well to this liberation. Let’s go to the classroom once more. If a teacher tells his students that he will not punish them or, on the other hand, reward them with good grades, there are two possibilities: there will either be an atmosphere of cooperation guided by a genuine motivation to study, or… total mayhem – “hell”!

In Battling to the End, a book in which René Girard reconsiders the treatise On War by Carl von Clausewitz (1780-1831), the apocalyptic dimensions of Christ’s teachings are related to Christ’s deconstruction of “the god(s) of sacrifice” and of sacrificial systems in general. Girard makes clear that the biblical revelation indeed has two possible outcomes: either a world of ever more rivalry and violence, or a world of ever more Love.

Reading Battling to the End a while ago, I couldn’t stop thinking about two stories in the shadow of a potential apocalypse: Empire of the Sun and Watchmen. In both these stories further mayhem and violence is avoided – at least for the time being – by the restoration of a sacrificial system of fear. Empire of the Sun reminds us how the Second World War came to an end in Japan: by sacrificing tens of thousands of innocent people, victims of the atomic bombings in Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Watchmen also displays this kind of sacrificial logic. In the fictional story of this graphic novel, the tensions between the US and the USSR during the Cold War are released after an alleged nuclear attack from outer space. Once again the death of millions of civilians provides a “peaceful world”, some sort of “paradise” – however precarious.

In Empire of the Sun, the way the Second World War unfolds in the Far East creates the setting for a boy’s coming of age story. Empire of the Sun actually is an autobiographical novel by J.G. Ballard, and tells the story of an aristocratic British boy, James (“Jim”) Graham. In 1987, Steven Spielberg made a film based on Ballard’s novel, with a young and astonishing Christian Bale taking the lead role. In the film, Jim’s privileged life is upturned by the Japanese invasion of Shanghai, December 8, 1941. Separated from his parents, he is eventually captured, and taken to Soo Chow confinement camp, next to a former Chinese airfield. Amidst the sickness and food shortages in the camp, Jim manages to survive and becomes a token of spirit and dignity to those around him, all the while hoping to get back “home” again. Jim eventually finds comfort in the arms of his mother, after losing his Japanese kamikaze-friend among many others… The scene of Jim reunited with his mother sheds a little light of hope in a world which seems condemned to the sacrificial peace of the atomic bomb – and a seemingly never ending story of fear and worries, with no peace of mind…

I made a compilation using scenes from both Empire of the Sun and Zack Snyder’s 2009 movie adaptation of the graphic novel Watchmen. The two stories raise powerful questions regarding humanity’s possibility to cope with freedom and responsibility. I think they’re opening up a lot of issues that are also discussed at the COV&R Conference in Tokyo, Japan (July 5-8, 2012). As Jim learns towards the end of the film: there are no clear-cut, magical solutions to overcome the devastations of a world at war… But to follow Christ’s footsteps, one step at a time, might take us to unexpected and new dimensions. Watch out!

TO READ MORE ABOUT WATCHMEN AND MIMETIC THEORY, CLICK HERE TO READ – PDF

(this essay already appeared at The Raven Foundation and the Dutch Girard Society)

CLICK HERE TO RECEIVE INFORMATION ON MUSIC AND LYRICS USED IN THE COMPILATION – PDF

CLICK TO WATCH:

[For more, check out a previous post – click: Religulous Atheism]

The books of the bible have left an indelible mark on humanity’s cultural idiom, moreover because they are themselves already important, somewhat reinterpreted, summaries of different ancient strands. Throughout the ages, storytellers, novelists, directors, painters, sculptors, architects and musicians have consciously and unconsciously transmitted basic biblical sayings, motives, symbols and archetypes (René Girard is among those who reveals this, time and again, in his work on western literature). This continued tradition makes clear that “man does not live by bread alone…”

Up to this day, we create images and tales to gain insight and different perspectives on our lives. Stories aren’t just a way of entertaining ourselves to escape reality. On the contrary, they allow us to get in touch with and reflect upon questions which are part of our everyday existence as human beings. Beyond scientific questions and concerns, we are confronted with layers of meaning in our everyday experience which broaden our assessment of reality. To reduce the experience of sexual intercourse, for instance, to what can be said of it on a purely scientific level, is to mistakenly consider a partial description of the experience as the experience itself. That’s why we naturally develop a language to express and cultivate other aspects of the same experience, aspects which transcend the purely scientifically describable domain.

Biblical stories have always been part of the language of the soul, and they still are. Songwriters like Bruce Springsteen or Leonard Cohen – to name but two – very often use biblical motives to express their life experiences. For example, just recently, Springsteen recaptured the story of the prophet Jonah and the big fish – in his song Swallowed Up (In The Belly Of The Whale). [Click here for Springsteen’s interpretation of Christ’s Passion].

Although literalist interpretations of biblical stories are on the rise since the fundamentalist movement started in the 19th century, and since some atheists took over this approach only to come to opposing conclusions, a majority of Christians still engages in a creative dialogue with the stories as stories (meaning that they are viewed as attempts to also symbolically and metaphorically convey real and profound human experiences).

It’s a shame that some people dismiss the anthropological and cultural potential of the bible because they “don’t believe in a burning bush that can talk”. As if that is expected! It’s like thinking we should believe Prince made love to a car in the song Little Red Corvette. Maybe it’s wise to remember how people approached the biblical stories during Antiquity and the Middle Ages. The important Christian thinker Geert Groote, for example, writes the following around 1383 A.D.:

“No child believes that the trees or the animals in the fables could speak. After all, the literal meaning of the poems or of the epic writings precisely is their figurative sense, and not the sense the bare words seem to hold at first glance. Who would actually believe that, as the book of Judges tells it, the trees would choose a king and that the fig tree, the vine, the olive tree and the bush would have responded to that choice in that way or another? Christ uses all kinds of images in his teaching. Matthew the evangelist even says that Christ never spoke without images. And even though it is Christ who uses these images, I do not think that those things actually (literally) took place.”

Nevertheless, some people today think they can approach the biblical stories as attempts to answer questions of the natural sciences like we know them today – apparently not realizing modern science didn’t exist in a, well, pre-modernist era. Reading a book of natural sciences to know what the bible is all about (or vice versa) is like reading a cookbook to assemble a piece of furniture.

Biblical stories should be approached from the point of view of storytelling and what this entails on a cultural level in general. Throughout history biblical stories have always been open to different interpretations, generating different (layers of) meaning. They were considered highly symbolical stories, used to highlight the depths and transcending nature of any authentic human experience.

CLICK HERE TO GET A BASIC UNDERSTANDING

OF THE PRINCIPLES OF ANCIENT AND MODERN (HISTORICAL-CRITICAL) BIBLE INTERPRETATION

Sometimes people ask: “How do you know what is to be considered symbolical?” Regarding ancient or literary texts in general, that’s a wrong question. For even historical events were only told when they were considered as transmitting a significance beyond a certain place and time (a “trans-historical” meaning). Once you get to know the basics of the biblical “idiom”, it’s not very hard to engage in a creative and personal dialogue with biblical texts, “knowing” how to read and interpret them (without expecting one, “final” interpretation).

Maybe we get a better picture of what I’m writing here if we compare this kind of dialogue with the way we keep on developing and interpreting particular images, stories and myths up to the present. That’s why I assembled some pop and rock songs using the modern mythology of the road and the car. Jack Kerouac (1922-1969) really instigated this mythology with his famous novel On the Road. Although inspired by autobiographical events, the story remains an allegory for every person’s “life journey”. In Kerouac’s own words: “Dean and I were embarked on a journey through post-Whitman America to FIND that America and to FIND the inherent goodness in American man. It was really a story about 2 Catholic buddies roaming the country in search of God. And we found him.” (Leland, John (2007). Why Kerouac Matters: The Lessons of On the Road (They’re Not What You Think) – New York: Viking. pp. 17).

So, take a look and a listen at the (excerpts of) songs I assembled in seven sections, and ask yourself if it’s really that hard to “understand” that they’re also about an inward journey (moving from alienation of self and other towards following the – divine? – dynamic of a love which saves and which allows, obeying its call, to rediscover oneself and other). Modern cultural archetypes (“highway” and “car”) stand side by side with religious and Christian ones (“highway… to hell”, indeed).

Maybe you’ll also understand what the general idea of these seven sections is all about? “Loss and redemption” would be a fine interpretative starting point. Never mind the Catholic imagination of Bruce Springsteen, among others… Enjoy artists like Willie Nelson, Ben Harper, Joshua Kadison, Toto, Metallica, The Killers, Green Day, Hanoi Rocks, Prince, John Lennon and Tracy Chapman – and many more!

CLICK TO READ THE SONG LYRICS (PDF)

CLICK TO LISTEN TO THE SONGS:

Even to this day human culture is drenched with archetypal images of magic mirrors and evil twins. It is clear that both mirrors and twins traditionally evoke mysterium tremendum et fascinans – the common object of all religious or numinous experience as described by Rudolf Otto (1869-1937).

We could ask ourselves why such phenomena are often surrounded by a mysterious, religious aura. Why have human beings been fascinated and frightened by them, at the same time? According to mimetic theory, in ancient times everything associated with mimetic rivalry and violence had the potential to become sacred. To get some understanding of how mirrors and twins (and the ‘twin’ in the mirror) are connected with rivalry and violence, I compiled the following short movie.

CLICK TO WATCH:

I hope this movie shows how classic tales of horror imaginatively portray a profound anthropological truth: in trying to master and hide the bad side of yourself – the parts you don’t want to acknowledge, the parts you don’t want others to see; your evil twin -, you create the monster you are trying to control. Eventually you lose yourself in the process. Moreover, in trying to protect the secret of your so-called bad side, others will have to be destroyed as well – because they could potentially betray your secret. Hypocrisy generates paranoia. Rockers The Smashing Pumpkins are spot on with the line the killer in me is the killer in you, in their song Disarm. I guess we all have two sides. Are we able to acknowledge them? The life of Adolf Eichmann (1906-1962), one of the main organizers of the Nazi Holocaust, reads as the story of Dr. Jekyll becoming Mr. Hyde – but his was not a merely fictitious tale of horror, it was real history becoming sheer terror. A warning.

I’ve put the word ‘religulous’ in this post’s title after a documentary, or should I say ‘mockumentary’ of the same name by director Larry Charles. In it, Bill Maher goes around the US primarily to investigate certain people’s religious beliefs and comes to the conclusion these beliefs are ‘ridiculous’ – hence the title: Religulous.

Bill Maher is right to point out some absurdities in certain people’s convictions, although stylistically spoken he could have done it a little less ad hominem. It’s a pity, however, that he limits his investigation to people who say they believe in ‘God’. I think it would have been much more interesting if he had shown how the psychological and sociological mechanisms that produce certain convictions are also hugely conditioning people who claim they don’t believe in ‘God’. Maybe he would have called his documentary Anthropologulous then. Whether we do or do not believe in God, we’re susceptible, as human beings, to some very strange convictions and behavior.

In fact, what I’ve learned from René Girard (among others) is that ‘belief in God’ is not ‘the real problem’. Atheists are no less capable of the kind of ‘religious’ behavior Bill Maher calls ‘ridiculous’. Similar to the rituals surrounding the deities of traditional religion are, for example, pop festivals or the ceremonies honoring dictatorial leaders of atheistic regimes (such as some of the annual festivities held in North Korea). So the question should not be ‘do you believe in God’? Maybe we should rather reflect on the social and psychological mechanisms, the desires and deeper motivations which shape our life.

To me, German philosopher Max Scheler (1874-1928) seems to summarize the ‘real’ dilemma when he claims “Man has either a God or an idol”. Or, to put it differently, the question isn’t so much ‘do you believe in God’ as it is ‘what (kind of) God do you believe in?’ So it’s not only a pity that Bill Maher doesn’t reveal the parallels between potentially ridiculous behavior of both ‘theists’ and ‘atheists’, it’s also a shame he doesn’t interview more people who try to develop their faith in a constant and frank dialogue with the natural and social sciences. Too bad he doesn’t get into the rich philosophical and theological traditions of Christianity. Actually, the way he reads the Bible is none other than the way his adversaries read it – he just comes to a different conclusion. In this sense he imitates his adversaries and becomes somewhat of a ‘mimetic rival’. Bill Maher is oblivious to the basic hermeneutical principles that were used by educated theologians throughout the ages (and from the get-go, meaning these principles were also used by the biblical writers themselves!).

Nevertheless, all these remarks on content and style aside, it must be said I did enjoy quite a few hilarious moments in this documentary. I thought about it when I recently visited Barcelona together with my wife to celebrate her birthday [Was she happy? Yes, she was!]. We were there when Barca, the unmatched and world-famous soccer team that is, had to play the Champions League final at Wembley against Manchester United. So we were confronted with exuberant Barcelona soccer fans the night their team won this important match. At the same time we witnessed a leftist manifestation that went on for a few days at the Plaça de Catalunya. Mostly young people were gathered there to demand governmental and economic reform that should result, among other things, in job creation, since unemployment is on the rise in Spain. In both instances we witnessed what Bill Maher would call ‘religulous’ behavior.

I don’t want to imply that supporting a soccer team is ridiculous as such. It is, however, a social phenomenon that is susceptible to extreme and bizarre behavior, as it tends to produce processes of idolatry. The picture on the left indeed shows that Lionel Messi is treated like a god by some of his fans. I neither want to imply that the unemployment claims made by the Spanish youth at the large square in central Barcelona should not be taken seriously. I just wanted to record how people sometimes ‘strangely’ behave when they’re united against a ‘common enemy’ (in this case ‘the system’).

Amidst all of this social upheaval and turmoil both my wife and I were driven by yet another herd of people towards the work of famous architect Antoni Gaudí (1852-1926), especially his Basilica Church La Sagrada Família. Never to be completed during the architect’s lifetime, this amazing monument is now finished on the inside and, perhaps needless to say, visiting it opened my senses and heart to another kind of religious, even ‘spiritual’ experience. It was like walking into the spatial mind of a genius who devoted his life to the creation of a sphere where people could ‘reconnect’ with themselves, each other, nature and, ultimately ‘God’. As is known, Gaudí was a devoted Catholic who put all of his talents as a scientist, mathematician and artist at the service of ‘The Holy Family’. His work displays a deep awareness of the interconnectedness, indeed ‘familiarity’ of all that is. Moreover, Gaudí was convinced people could only ‘find’ them‘selves’ if they discovered there was no ‘self’ apart from a ‘being’ that ‘is’ always already ‘in relationships’. What and who we are is first and foremost ‘given’ – it is not something we autonomously create. To deny this, is to surrender to what René Girard would call a ‘romantic deception’.

The following quotes of Gaudí show how he considered any artist’s creativity as something that doesn’t spring from a purely ‘original’ mind. Rather, his view on ‘originality’ is closely connected to the discovery of a creation that always precedes the work of the artist:

“Originality consists in returning to the origin.”

“Man does not create… he discovers.”

Artists like Gaudí consider themselves ‘co-creators’ or ‘collaborators’, only relatively ‘free’ as ‘imitators’ of Nature:

“The creation continues incessantly through the media of man.”

“Those who look for the laws of Nature as a support for their new works collaborate with the creator.”

Gaudí seems to distinguish between two kinds of imitation, ‘blindly copying’ and ‘creatively mimicking’:

“Copiers do not collaborate.”

From the point of view of Girard’s theory on imitation (his ‘mimetic’ theory) blindly copying exactly occurs when people feel they are not imitating at all. On the other hand, people who realize they are dependent on others will develop a creative kind of imitation, allowing ‘originality’. By consciously imitating something or someone other you’re indeed saying two things: that there is a likeness between yourself and that other and that there’s also a ‘distance’ (otherwise imitation would not be possible). One could even say that imitation somehow creates this distance, a kind of ‘space’ where men each become ‘others’ towards… others.

As said, the Sagrada Família, as a building that so closely resembles the ‘mathematical’ mystique of natural forms, precisely produces a realm wherein people are not swallowed by the unifying yet destructive powers of ‘wild’ crowd mechanisms, but a ‘breathing’ sphere where people really become aware of each other in the ‘space’ surrounding them. To Christians like Gaudí and Girard this kind of awareness allows for the experience of a divine Love which creates us. From the contrasting situations in Barcelona I start to see what they’re getting at…

Lorenzi Marcella Giulia and Francaviglia Mauro wrote a very interesting article on Gaudí’s La Sagrada Família in the Journal of Applied Mathematics (click on the title to read it): Art & Mathematics in Antoni Gaudí’s architecture: “La Sagrada Família”. I especially recommend it to those mathematicians who want to taste something of Gaudí’s peculiar spiritual take on science.

Of course there are other ways to enjoy the swarming life in God’s grace – “His ways are manifold”.

Try for example the Hard Rock Cafe in Barcelona, and discover “God is my Co-Pilot”, celebrating that good old rock ‘n’ roll music!

Cheers!

I just finished reading the thought-provoking little book Keeping Together in Time: Dance and Drill in Human History, by William H. McNeill. The author experienced the effects of drill exercise and marching together himself during military training in September 1941:

“Marching aimlessly about on the drill field, swaggering in conformity with prescribed military postures, conscious only of keeping in step so as to make the next move correctly and in time somehow felt good. Words are inadequate to describe the emotion aroused by the prolonged movement in unison that drilling involved. A sense of pervasive well-being is what I recall; more specifically, a strange sense of personal enlargement; a sort of swelling out, becoming bigger than life, thanks to participation in collective ritual.” (p.2).

This experience of ‘keeping together in time’ relies heavily on ‘mimetic’ ability, i.e. the ability to ‘imitate’ the movements of others. At the same time, individual rhythm is created by imitating the same movement over and over, as a ‘repetition’. ‘Losing’ your own individuality by bonding with others during a drill exercise seems closely connected to an ecstatic dance experience, as this is described by the late Michael Jackson:

“Consciousness expresses itself through creation. This world we live in is the dance of the creator. Dancers come and go in the twinkling of an eye, but the dance lives on. On many an occasion when I am dancing, I have felt touched by something sacred. In those moments, I felt my spirit soar and become one with everything that exists. I become the stars and the moon. I become the lover and the beloved. I become the victor and the vanquished. I become the master and the slave. I become the singer and the song. I become the knower and the known. I keep on dancing… then it is the eternal dance of creation. The creator and the creation merge into one wholeness of joy. I keep on dancing… and dancing… and dancing. Until there is only… the Dance.”

There is a sacrificial element in dancing that is important for the formation of ritual. Dancing prepares individuals to lose their day-to-day consciousness in order to become part of a bigger whole. Dancing creates unity and peace. McNeill refers to the description of a ritual by the African Swazi people:

“The warriors dance and sing at the Incwala [an annual festival] so that they do not fight, although they are many and from all parts of the country and proud. When they dance they feel they are one and they can praise each other.” (p.8).

Sometimes the mimetic (i.e. ‘imitative’) process of dance and drill connects individuals so tightly to each other that they are willing, not only to lose themselves in an ecstatic experience, but also to actually and physically sacrifice their lives. McNeill illustrates this by citing a soldier’s ruminations about what he experienced during war:

“Many veterans who are honest with themselves will admit, I believe, that the experience of communal effort in battle, even under the altered conditions of modern war, has been the high point of their lives… Their ‘I’ passes insensibly into a ‘we’, ‘my’ becomes ‘our’, and individual fate loses its central importance… I believe that it is nothing less than the assurance of immortality that makes self sacrifice at these moments so relatively easy… I may fall, but I do not die, for that which is real in me goes forward and lives on in the comrades for whom I gave up my life.” (p.10).

McNeill then points to the close connections between the unity and bonds created by dance, ritual and drill on the one hand, and, on the other hand, the unity enhanced by directing these bonds towards a common enemy in violent and warlike situations:

“Obviously, this sort of merger between self and the surrounding group, attained in the heat of battle, is analogous to the ‘boundary loss’ attributed to dancers. It is also induced by close-order drill, though only in attenuated measure. If so, drill, dance, and battle belong together. All three create and sustain group cohesion; and the creation and maintenance of social groups – together with resulting rivalries among groups – constitute the warp and weft of human history.” (p.10).

In the following chapters McNeill suggests dancing rituals must have played a tremendous role in human evolution, regulating important aspects of community life. It is remarkable, especially if you’re familiar with René Girard’s mimetic theory, how dancing rituals seem to emerge around objects individuals of the same group could fight about – women, territory, food. McNeill describes how hunting could have become more efficient, structured by what Girard would call the pattern of ritual sacrifice – in which participants first lose themselves in the ‘chaotic’ yet community enhancing ecstasy of dance, followed by the commonly approved killing of a certain victim:

“… it seems best to settle for the observation that if Homo erectus bands learned to consolidate sentiments of social solidarity by dancing together, their hunting would have become more efficient. Hunters could, like modern pygmies, rehearse their past successes through dance, mimicking how they ambushed prey, drove it into a trap, or merely prodded it out of its burrow. Such re-enactments, combined with enhanced emotional solidarity provoked by the rhythms of dance, would – like military drill in Old Regime armies – make actual performances in the field more predictable. And, as was also true of such armies, the emotional bonding induced by dance would allow each individual hunter to play his part more bravely, standing firm when an encircled animal tried to break out, and using his stick in time-tested ways to turn it back or head it towards a trap prepared in advance.” (p.30).

McNeill goes so far as to propose the idea that ritualistic patterns, as ‘imitations’, indeed ‘re-enactments’, most likely preceded articulate language and structured future forms of communication. Ritual dance must have sustained communities during times of crisis:

“Dancing… could scarcely be so general if it did not have a positive effect on collective survival by consolidating common effort in crisis situations. The connection is most obvious in war dances, which prepared fighting men for the risks of ambush and battle; but the more general consolidation of sentiment among all members of the community, male and female, old and young, that community-wide dancing induced may well have been more important in maintaining everyday routines and all the forms of cooperative behavior needed for the effective conduct of community affairs.” (p.38).

In other words, dancing must have managed potentially violent situations among members of the same group. One such potentially violent situation concerns everything connected to sexuality, as ‘in the wild’ males tend to fight each other for females. The late Jim Morrison, singer of rock band The Doors, describes how the violent, death (‘thanatos’) oriented side of sexual energy (‘eros’) is somewhat controlled by the ‘cathartic’ power of ritual. The following quote is taken from the book by Stephen Davis, Jim Morrison – Life, Death, Legend (Ebury Press, London, 2005, p.182-183):

“As soon as quote factory Jim Morrison began giving interviews, ‘think pieces’ about the Doors and Rock Theater began appearing in the press, garlanded with poetic epigrams that were carefully strung together by Jim like love beads. ‘We’re really politicians. You could call us erotic politicians.’

‘We’re primarily a rock and roll band, a blues band, just a band – but that’s not all. A Doors concert is a public meeting called by us for a special kind of dramatic discussion and entertainment. When we perform, we’re participating in the creation of a world, and we celebrate that creation with the audience. It becomes the sculpture of bodies in action. That’s the political part, but our power is sexual. We make concerts sexual politics. The sex starts with me, then moves out to include the charmed circle of musicians onstage. The music we make goes out to the audience and interacts with them. They go home and interact with their reality, then I get it all back by interacting with that reality. So the whole sex thing works out to be one big ball of fire.’

‘I offer images. I conjure memories of… freedom. But we can only open doors; we can’t drag people through.’

‘Our work, our performing, is a striving for metamorphosis. It’s like a purification ritual, in the alchemical sense. First, you have to have the period of disorder, chaos; returning to a primeval disaster region. Out of that, you purify the elements, and find new seed of life, which transforms all life, all matter, all personality – until, finally, hopefully, you emerge and marry all those dualisms and opposites. Then you’re not talking about good and evil anymore, but about something unified and pure.’

Jim could even make sense when he was dead drunk. Thoroughly loaded, Jim slurred his words in what was supposed to be a major interview with a nervous, intimidated Richard Goldstein. ‘See, the shaman… he was a man who would intoxicate himself. See, he was probably already an… ah… unusual individual. And, he would put himself into trance by dancing, whirling around, drinking, taking drugs – however. Then he would go on a mental trip and… ah… describe his journey for the rest of the tribe.’

Everyone who read this understood what Jim was saying: that the Doors were more than just an act, more than just a rock band. Jim was calling signals, and the wide receivers of the nascent rock culture definitely caught the ball.”

Morrison’s reasoning reflects the strong connection between ‘violence’ and ‘the sacred’, a connection which René Girard worked out extensively in Violence and the Sacred. The Christian Story, Girard argues, unveils the violent mechanisms which produce the sacred, and criticizes the absolute necessity of sacrifice suggested by ‘traditional’ religion.

It is remarkable how William H. McNeill writes a book with insights so similar to those of mimetic theory, yet he never mentions René Girard. For me, this once again confirms the validity of essential claims made by Girard.

To end this post, I invite you to watch yet another compilation I made. This time I combined images of Leni Riefenstahl‘s Nazi propaganda film Triumph des Willens and a video of Michael Jackson. It shows the close connections, discussed by McNeill, between dance, drill and war, or, as Girard would say, between violence and the sacred – idolatry being one of the most important effects of the mechanisms which produce that ‘sacred’.

Please don’t get me wrong. By compiling these images I’m not implying Michael Jackson ever sympathized with Nazi Germany. On the contrary, Michael Jackson seems to absorb the mechanisms which are potentially violent and dangerous to produce some ‘ecstatic’ celebration in the realm of entertainment. After all, he was one of the biggest entertainers of all time. Sadly and tragically he paid the price for that, as he couldn’t escape the sacrificial mechanisms of mass adoration (for more on this, read my post The Church of David LaChapelle).

CLICK TO WATCH the compilation: