"So many things that we will never undo, I know you're sorry, I'm sorry too." The song sets the mood. "Only one thing that I did wrong, stayed in Mississippi a day too long."
With these words I am in two places at once: my car at the end of a park district summer, and here, aboard bus number 66 with no AC.
Israel is beginning to sweat. Like the occupants of this bus who make it their dwelling place from point A to point B, like the orthodox teen with pasty white tights and beads of sweat on her shapely nose, the summer in Tel Aviv expresses itself in unrelenting saturation.
It doesn't rain, but the sea wets the air.
It has been hot, but now it is more hot. Even the nights are building their threshold of burden, all in terms of humidity. My strategy for this nighttime oppression: get out of the house, or lay perfectly still, wearing as little as possible. Oh, and there is always a cold shower. Inspiring, no?
Politically, the heat is on and quiet spells are broken by stupidity (in my opinion). Tel Aviv is a self-made bubble. 'There is no conflict here,' someone might say to you. 'This is why we come. To get away from it. To party. To live life.' But by the very nature of an escape, by revelling in difference, a population defines the inescapable nature of their situation.
This is a world of oppositions. In Composing Postmodern Subjectivities, Bruce Mccomiskey presents the problematic tendency of constructing identity on the basis of cognitive and emotional oppositions. History, culture, and tradition set a general context, yet dichotomous labels such as 'good v. bad,' 'right v. wrong,' or 'black v. white,' reveal a overbearing tendency to define in terms of oppositional forces. In this sense, the response of Tel Aviv'ans to the question 'why they are here' is 'because they don't want to be there.'
A postmodern subjectivity would have it that a willingness to find a negotiable middle ground in communication can open channels for a healthy, holistic, and empathetic approach to diversity in all its forms (racial, ethnic, cultural, moral, etc.). Yet such analysis is not natural. Perhaps it can be taught, but it is not naturally assumed.
In The Clash of Civilizations, Samuel Huntington posits a related paradigm: that identity is the source of conflict, and we war to destroy difference.
On a more personal note, I question my own identity. From Christianity, to agnosticism, to I-don't-know-what.
On what might seem like a random note (but I trust you to make the connection), yesterday, I had the most pleasant date since I have been here. Blue eyes and blonde hair met green eyes and dark hair. 5' 11" met 5' 3". The son of a conservative Christian family met the daughter of a conservative Muslim family. Among other things, we talked of family and we laughed.
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ReplyDeleteThanks for the feedback, Sidekickboy.
ReplyDeleteI don't think all conflict can be reduced to identity, but I agree with you, it is an important factor.
As nation-states organize themselves into singular units (the EU prominently), hoping to 'universalize' action and policy, these bodies may sometimes gloss over the individual details. Maybe their neglect is often unintentional. Organizationally, the appearance is smooth; of steel and glass. But what of internal dynamics?