Babak Fakhamzadeh
Electronic Gods
Has potential, conceptually, but fails to address so many plot holes, that the story becomes tedious, lacking the internal consistency it needs to suspend disbelief.
In the end, the book's like an experimental science fiction film based on interesting concepts, but with a weak execution.
Has potential, conceptually, but fails to address so many plot holes, that the story becomes tedious, lacking the internal consistency it needs to suspend disbelief.
In the end, the book's like an experimental science fiction film based on interesting concepts, but with a weak execution.
Amrith constructs a gorgeous impression of the shores and history of the Bay of Bengal, roughly along a chronological path. Fascinating for its rich histories, he leaves the reader with a thorough insight in the complex markup of the region, his story meandering from topic to topic, from location to location, from personal history to personal history.
Except for the Bay itself, Amrith’s history doesn’t really have a central focus, or theme, meaning that the book is really a, well told, whirlwind of over 500 years of history, spanning all countries along the shores of the Bay of Bengal, though perhaps with a somewhat stronger focus on Tamil migrations along its shores. Though, a broad range of influences get a mention, including Yemenite traders, and Mozambican slaves that the Brits at some point imported to Indonesia.
A few interesting remarks from throughout the book:
+ The rise and decline of the Bay of Bengal as a region parallels the rise and collapse of British imperialism in Asia.
+ Bangladesh *is* the Himalayas, flattened out.
+ The [Dutch] saw themselves as different from the swashbuckling Portuguese: more ordered, more rational, more enlightened. But [these] European powers had much in common; they came for Asia’s wealth in spices and textiles, they shared their dependence on inter-Asian trade, they struggled to balance their public and private interests. But, the Dutch brand of capitalism was the stronger, and more successful one. If, eventually, the Brits prevailed. And, the English were the most effective of all at combining moralism and self-interest.
+ A throwaway remark that warrants investigation: “everywhere [Muharram] was a major public celebration, and that seemed to upend the prevailing social order”. Was this celebrated as a kind of carnival?
+ The author claims that modern laws around migration, legal and illegal, were given shape at the start of the 20th century, in cases involving forced, and unforced, migration in and around the Bay of Bengal.
+ Part of One chapter is dedicated to the cosmopolitanism of Burma at the start of the 20th century. Exemplary for how tides can turn.
Near the end, Amrith argues that nationalism in and around the Bay, in the 1930s and 1940s, dovetailed with the invasion of Japan, and several successive waves of independence, with the drying up of the historical cycles of migrations around the bay, as a consequence, diminishing trade and travel. This was followed by decades of reverse migrations, where a number of countries strove for stronger ethnic unity, at the cost of denying long-term, not first-generation, migrants citizenship, or even requiring them to return to their countries of ‘origin’.
Amrith constructs a gorgeous impression of the shores and history of the Bay of Bengal, roughly along a chronological path. Fascinating for its rich histories, he leaves the reader with a thorough insight in the complex markup of the region, his story meandering from topic to topic, from location to location, from personal history to personal history.
Except for the Bay itself, Amrith’s history doesn’t really have a central focus, or theme, meaning that the book is really a, well told, whirlwind of over 500 years of history, spanning all countries along the shores of the Bay of Bengal, though perhaps with a somewhat stronger focus on Tamil migrations along its shores. Though, a broad range of influences get a mention, including Yemenite traders, and Mozambican slaves that the Brits at some point imported to Indonesia.
A few interesting remarks from throughout the book:
+ The rise and decline of the Bay of Bengal as a region parallels the rise and collapse of British imperialism in Asia.
+ Bangladesh *is* the Himalayas, flattened out.
+ The [Dutch] saw themselves as different from the swashbuckling Portuguese: more ordered, more rational, more enlightened. But [these] European powers had much in common; they came for Asia’s wealth in spices and textiles, they shared their dependence on inter-Asian trade, they struggled to balance their public and private interests. But, the Dutch brand of capitalism was the stronger, and more successful one. If, eventually, the Brits prevailed. And, the English were the most effective of all at combining moralism and self-interest.
+ A throwaway remark that warrants investigation: “everywhere [Muharram] was a major public celebration, and that seemed to upend the prevailing social order”. Was this celebrated as a kind of carnival?
+ The author claims that modern laws around migration, legal and illegal, were given shape at the start of the 20th century, in cases involving forced, and unforced, migration in and around the Bay of Bengal.
+ Part of One chapter is dedicated to the cosmopolitanism of Burma at the start of the 20th century. Exemplary for how tides can turn.
Near the end, Amrith argues that nationalism in and around the Bay, in the 1930s and 1940s, dovetailed with the invasion of Japan, and several successive waves of independence, with the drying up of the historical cycles of migrations around the bay, as a consequence, diminishing trade and travel. This was followed by decades of reverse migrations, where a number of countries strove for stronger ethnic unity, at the cost of denying long-term, not first-generation, migrants citizenship, or even requiring them to return to their countries of ‘origin’.
In the introduction, Eisner, the biographer, takes care of perhaps the biggest questions; the drug case against Noriega, for which he was convicted, was deeply flawed and wholly circumstantial; the US invasion was unjustified on legal, political and moral grounds.
Noriega's memoires, the bulk of the book, are interesting as far as they go, just; descriptive, less so analytical. They make a clear point: the US invaded because they stood to lose control over the canal, after Panama had secured the Torrijos-Carter treaty and was shifting focus on working with Japan to expand the canal. And, because Panama declined to kowtow (enough) to the US in their covert operations in Central America. On the downside, Noriega tries a bit too hard to prove the US was the only bad actor, making it appear as if he and his former boss Torrijos always and alone acted in good faith.
Eisner, in his afterword, starts of by reiterating the same points he made in the introduction; Noriega was not guilty of the charges against him, the invasion was not justified. He elaborates, and makes an easy case for what should now be widely known (the book was published in 1998); the US' constant and very extensive high level control of, what should be independent, countries in the Americas.
In the introduction, Eisner, the biographer, takes care of perhaps the biggest questions; the drug case against Noriega, for which he was convicted, was deeply flawed and wholly circumstantial; the US invasion was unjustified on legal, political and moral grounds.
Noriega's memoires, the bulk of the book, are interesting as far as they go, just; descriptive, less so analytical. They make a clear point: the US invaded because they stood to lose control over the canal, after Panama had secured the Torrijos-Carter treaty and was shifting focus on working with Japan to expand the canal. And, because Panama declined to kowtow (enough) to the US in their covert operations in Central America. On the downside, Noriega tries a bit too hard to prove the US was the only bad actor, making it appear as if he and his former boss Torrijos always and alone acted in good faith.
Eisner, in his afterword, starts of by reiterating the same points he made in the introduction; Noriega was not guilty of the charges against him, the invasion was not justified. He elaborates, and makes an easy case for what should now be widely known (the book was published in 1998); the US' constant and very extensive high level control of, what should be independent, countries in the Americas.
Feiling spends a lot of pages on trying to explain the history of the conflicts Colombia has had to deal with over the past few decades, specifically the interplay between army, FARC and militias. Now, with the peace talks between FARC and the government having come to fruition (after a public vote rejected a deal earlier this year, a new deal was agreed on that didn't need a public vote), this takes up too much space and this four year old book already feels outdated.
Here are a few interesting tidbits:
+ Simon Bolivar considered making Colombia an English speaking country after independence. He was dissuaded by his second in command. + Colombia's rivers and lakes contain more freshwater than those of the US and Canada, combined. + Avianca is the second oldest operating airline in the world (KLM is just two months older). + Feiling suggests the Guane were a white tribe that did not arrive from Asia, but there seems to be little evidence of that, besides that they did seem to have been more European in their appearance. + Colombia has the largest coal mine in Latin America.
At some point, Feiling agitates against the modern backpacker, a troupe of which he encounters when hiking with a Colombian friend. He wonders about their disconnect with the 'real' Colombia while being continuously connected with their Facebook friends and this particular strata of information that includes knowing how to bridge the Darien gap and which hostel to stay at in Nepal. In short, the author likes to point out he is experiencing the real Colombia. But, he also suggests that these latter day tourists look for a mix of three things; the classical Grand Tour, with the objective of 'toughening up' by experiencing foreign cultures, the post 1960s version of the Grand Tour with the objective of loosening up, and the typical holiday maker, wanting to leave the cares of the world behind. To me, this analysis seems spot on, though the author seems to miss that he's just one of them, with slightly different weights attached to these three portions. Or not. Just a few pages later, he admits to joining them in their activities.
Feiling spends a lot of pages on trying to explain the history of the conflicts Colombia has had to deal with over the past few decades, specifically the interplay between army, FARC and militias. Now, with the peace talks between FARC and the government having come to fruition (after a public vote rejected a deal earlier this year, a new deal was agreed on that didn't need a public vote), this takes up too much space and this four year old book already feels outdated.
Here are a few interesting tidbits:
+ Simon Bolivar considered making Colombia an English speaking country after independence. He was dissuaded by his second in command. + Colombia's rivers and lakes contain more freshwater than those of the US and Canada, combined. + Avianca is the second oldest operating airline in the world (KLM is just two months older). + Feiling suggests the Guane were a white tribe that did not arrive from Asia, but there seems to be little evidence of that, besides that they did seem to have been more European in their appearance. + Colombia has the largest coal mine in Latin America.
At some point, Feiling agitates against the modern backpacker, a troupe of which he encounters when hiking with a Colombian friend. He wonders about their disconnect with the 'real' Colombia while being continuously connected with their Facebook friends and this particular strata of information that includes knowing how to bridge the Darien gap and which hostel to stay at in Nepal. In short, the author likes to point out he is experiencing the real Colombia. But, he also suggests that these latter day tourists look for a mix of three things; the classical Grand Tour, with the objective of 'toughening up' by experiencing foreign cultures, the post 1960s version of the Grand Tour with the objective of loosening up, and the typical holiday maker, wanting to leave the cares of the world behind. To me, this analysis seems spot on, though the author seems to miss that he's just one of them, with slightly different weights attached to these three portions. Or not. Just a few pages later, he admits to joining them in their activities.
I've been wanting to read anything by Battuta for ages. Battuta, living in the 14th century, is best known as a traveler and explorer, who, in a period of some 30 years, covered around 117,000 km. He visited most of the Islamic world as well as a series of other countries, including parts of North Africa, West Africa, Southern Europe and Eastern Europe in the West, the Middle East, Indian subcontinent, Central Asia,Southeast Asia and China in the East. A distance surpassing that of his predecessor and near-contemporary Marco Polo. If Battuta would be making his journey today, he'd be visiting around 44 countries. Indeed, it's surprising that 30 years of travel can be captured in a mere 240 pages. And that's including notes by the translator.
I stumbled upon this book in a bookstore called Get Lost in San Francisco. Little did I know that a comparable copy is available online. However, the book is not very good. This publication has left the early 19th century translation, by a Rev. Samuel Lee, intact, complete with printing errors and an errata page. With the sometimes archaic English and the changes in spelling and pronunciation of names, this is not the most convenient.
Also, Battuta's style is far from engaging. Mostly losing himself in descriptions of the holy men of the cities he visits, he's a very bad travel writer. Only towards the second half of the book does he become a bit more descriptive of his experiences.
The book, obviously, is extremely suitable to turn into some online interactive map-based experience. And, of course, this has already been done.
What I don't really get is that this guy traveled for almost 30 years. Where did he get the funds and, perhaps more interestingly, how did he constantly manage to get all sorts of riches from the kings and princes he visited on his journeys. I'd be very interested to learn that trick.
I've been wanting to read anything by Battuta for ages. Battuta, living in the 14th century, is best known as a traveler and explorer, who, in a period of some 30 years, covered around 117,000 km. He visited most of the Islamic world as well as a series of other countries, including parts of North Africa, West Africa, Southern Europe and Eastern Europe in the West, the Middle East, Indian subcontinent, Central Asia,Southeast Asia and China in the East. A distance surpassing that of his predecessor and near-contemporary Marco Polo. If Battuta would be making his journey today, he'd be visiting around 44 countries. Indeed, it's surprising that 30 years of travel can be captured in a mere 240 pages. And that's including notes by the translator.
I stumbled upon this book in a bookstore called Get Lost in San Francisco. Little did I know that a comparable copy is available online. However, the book is not very good. This publication has left the early 19th century translation, by a Rev. Samuel Lee, intact, complete with printing errors and an errata page. With the sometimes archaic English and the changes in spelling and pronunciation of names, this is not the most convenient.
Also, Battuta's style is far from engaging. Mostly losing himself in descriptions of the holy men of the cities he visits, he's a very bad travel writer. Only towards the second half of the book does he become a bit more descriptive of his experiences.
The book, obviously, is extremely suitable to turn into some online interactive map-based experience. And, of course, this has already been done.
What I don't really get is that this guy traveled for almost 30 years. Where did he get the funds and, perhaps more interestingly, how did he constantly manage to get all sorts of riches from the kings and princes he visited on his journeys. I'd be very interested to learn that trick.
Extraordinary claims require extraordinary proof. Hancock, in the opening address puts forward his central premise: The arrival of two comets, some 12800 and 11600 years ago, destroyed an advanced civilisation where the survivors told of a time when 'mankind had fallen out of harmony with the universe'. Hancock then continues, "Did they bring the comets on themselves?", which sounds ominous. In the end, Hancock's claim is reasonable, if not proven directly, but his suggestion this advanced civilisation brought on the comets on themselves, and, as he also claims, this comet is set to return within our lifetime, is spurious.
Up until less then 10 years ago, no evidence existed for the source of two cataclysmic events in the distant past, triggering and ending a mini ice age between roughly 12800 and 11600 years ago. However, in 2007, initial discoveries, which have since been built on extensively, are now very convincing; a crashing meteorite kicked off this mini ice age (the 'Younger Dryas') while some other cataclysmic event ended it some 1200 years later (though for that event, no evidence exists as yet).
Hancock's first stop is at Göbekli Tepe, in southern Turkey, which archeologists pretty much agree on that it is at least 10600 years old, coinciding with the end of the last ice age. Then, Hancock makes an interesting, if fleeting, connection with glyphs at Göbekli Tepe, images of Quetzalcoatl and Oannes, an 'ancient sage' from Mesopotamia, said to have lived before the great flood and who basically brought civilization. The visual similarities, combined with the similar legends of a fish/bird (Middle East) and snake (Central America), personified as a white-skinned bearded strong man at the head of a small group of sages, bringing advanced knowledge of agriculture and architecture, make for an intriguing implication. The time frame, though seems off. Göbekli Tepe being active way before both the Assyrians or early Central American civilizations saw their primary years, or so we believe.
Hancock goes on to describe the megalithic site of Gunung Pradang. In Indonesia, recent archeological tests suggest that the oldest layers, here, date back to perhaps as much as 22000 years ago. Excavations were started to dig deep and confirm these preliminary findings, but the work has since been halted, hopefully temporarily. The lead archeologist at this site believes Gunung Pradang is actually Atlantis.
This is followed by geological proof of major flooding, possibly around 12000 years ago, specifically in north America, presaging the Younger Dryas, which in turn sees Hancock continue to make a credible argument for the impact of a fragmented comet triggering the 1200 year cold spell that was the Younger Dryas, ended by, Hancock suggests, another encounter with debris from perhaps the same comet, this now not hitting the ice caps, but the oceans, resulting in global warming, as opposed to global cooling, within a very short time frame.
Hancock follows this up with a review of ancient myths, beginning with Zoroaster. Hancock claims that 'Zoroaster borrows from much earlier traditions', but that feels somewhat like conjecture. In the Zoroastrian creation myth, the flood is countered by a Noah-like figure who is to build an underground bunker, containing seeds, mostly. Hancock suggests that the underground cities of cappadocia could be those very cities. Of course, possible, as the age of these cities is unknown, but pure speculation.
Then follows a description of the Sumerian creation myths that include the primary bringer of knowledge, Oannes, and his Seven Sages, or wise men. Interesting, but this part of the book is closest to Sitchin's many pretty much fictional stories, even if Hancock is less speculative. One point he emphasizes is that Oannes and his Seven Sages enlightened mankind *before* the flood. After the flood, only surrogates of the sages were left to help mankind along, even if, admitted by much later assyrian and Mesopotamian kings, original, antediluvian, knowledge supposedly still existed.
Hancock then shifts to Edfu, an old temple complex between Luxor and Aswan, containing inscriptions that more than echo Plato's story of Atlantis, going deeper and mirroring the Sumerian creation myth, complete with Seven Sages, serving a master. Though here, the sages are described to have come to Egypt after the destruction of Atlantis, that is, after the flood, as opposed to the Sumerian sages doing their thing before the flood.
Hancock spends a lot of time trying to convince the reader that Egyptian history goes as far back as the flood, through choice pickings of ancient Egyptian texts. But, his wordy treatise takes away from his credibility, as his only objective needs to be making the connection to an antediluvian world plausible, not definite. One connection, which he does makes plausible, is between Gizeh, and Baalbek, in Lebanon. Baalbek, like the sanctuary just north of Gizeh, was called Heliopolos, city of the sun, while there are indications that the Egyptian God Horus actually had come from modern day Lebanon, possibly through a Canaanite connection, the god being represented by a Phoenix, in turn possibly representing a cyclical comet, in turn physically represented by a meteorite, which might have resembled the capstone of the great pyramids.
Next, Hancock returns to Göbekli Tepe, making the claim that a particular depiction on one of the site's pillars represents a stellar configuration that uniquely identifies our time within a range of less than a century (or, to be precise, any similar region in time spaced a good 25000 or multiples thereof, on either side). This seems possible, but the supporting evidence does not seem overly strong to me.
Hancock continues with suggesting that the keepers of ancient wisdom were the Sabians, from the Egyptian for 'star', based in Harran, now in Turkey, while the story of the book of Enoch, a non-canonical bible book only rediscovered some 300 years ago, reinforces stories still available in Genesis, on the Nephilim. The Sabians, worshippers of Hermes, sometimes equated wit Enoch, an antediluvian prophet, survived Islamic prosecution as they managed to claim being people of he book, well, until the 13th century or so, after their last pilgrimage to Gizeh and Islamic golden age. Yet, a copy of the Hermetica, the works of Hermes, showed up with the Italian de Medicis in around 1479, just in time for the discovery of the new world.
Of course, in Hancock's eyes, the Nephilim, or perhaps their angelic parents, are the sages.
In the final chapters, Hancock unnecessarily covers some aspects of both Easter Island and megalithic constructions in Peru.
In short, my take aways: + A meteorite hit earth around 10800BC, resulting in cataclysmic change and a 1200 year long ice age. + Another cataclysmic event happened around 9600BC. + Göbekli Tepe is about 12000 years old, saw its inhabitants create megalithic structures and 'invent' agriculture. + The pyramids probably refer to both the period around 12000 years ago and 2500BC and, perhaps, in part, were constructed much earlier than the generally accepted date of 2500BC. + Baalbek might have been constructed much earlier than currently thought. + Gunung Pradang might date back to around 12000 years ago. + Egyptian creation myths parallel Plato's story of Atlantis and imply referring back to a time that could be as early as 12000 years ago. + Plenty of parallels exist between the Egyptian creation myth and similar myths from other middle eastern peoples. + The Sabians, amongst other ancient cultures, were competent, if not very good, astrologers. + North American Indians have creation myths that seem to talk about a cataclysmic event resembling a major meteor impact.
Hancock's biggest drawback is that he is overly verbose and at times reverts to writing a travelogue. Sticking to the facts, speculating as little as possible, would have done the book, and his credibility, good. Yet, in the end, a plausible theory emerges suggesting that an advanced civilization could have existed before the cataclysmic events of roughly 12000 years ago. Hancock reaches, at times, but his central premise is credible, if still speculative.
Extraordinary claims require extraordinary proof. Hancock, in the opening address puts forward his central premise: The arrival of two comets, some 12800 and 11600 years ago, destroyed an advanced civilisation where the survivors told of a time when 'mankind had fallen out of harmony with the universe'. Hancock then continues, "Did they bring the comets on themselves?", which sounds ominous. In the end, Hancock's claim is reasonable, if not proven directly, but his suggestion this advanced civilisation brought on the comets on themselves, and, as he also claims, this comet is set to return within our lifetime, is spurious.
Up until less then 10 years ago, no evidence existed for the source of two cataclysmic events in the distant past, triggering and ending a mini ice age between roughly 12800 and 11600 years ago. However, in 2007, initial discoveries, which have since been built on extensively, are now very convincing; a crashing meteorite kicked off this mini ice age (the 'Younger Dryas') while some other cataclysmic event ended it some 1200 years later (though for that event, no evidence exists as yet).
Hancock's first stop is at Göbekli Tepe, in southern Turkey, which archeologists pretty much agree on that it is at least 10600 years old, coinciding with the end of the last ice age. Then, Hancock makes an interesting, if fleeting, connection with glyphs at Göbekli Tepe, images of Quetzalcoatl and Oannes, an 'ancient sage' from Mesopotamia, said to have lived before the great flood and who basically brought civilization. The visual similarities, combined with the similar legends of a fish/bird (Middle East) and snake (Central America), personified as a white-skinned bearded strong man at the head of a small group of sages, bringing advanced knowledge of agriculture and architecture, make for an intriguing implication. The time frame, though seems off. Göbekli Tepe being active way before both the Assyrians or early Central American civilizations saw their primary years, or so we believe.
Hancock goes on to describe the megalithic site of Gunung Pradang. In Indonesia, recent archeological tests suggest that the oldest layers, here, date back to perhaps as much as 22000 years ago. Excavations were started to dig deep and confirm these preliminary findings, but the work has since been halted, hopefully temporarily. The lead archeologist at this site believes Gunung Pradang is actually Atlantis.
This is followed by geological proof of major flooding, possibly around 12000 years ago, specifically in north America, presaging the Younger Dryas, which in turn sees Hancock continue to make a credible argument for the impact of a fragmented comet triggering the 1200 year cold spell that was the Younger Dryas, ended by, Hancock suggests, another encounter with debris from perhaps the same comet, this now not hitting the ice caps, but the oceans, resulting in global warming, as opposed to global cooling, within a very short time frame.
Hancock follows this up with a review of ancient myths, beginning with Zoroaster. Hancock claims that 'Zoroaster borrows from much earlier traditions', but that feels somewhat like conjecture. In the Zoroastrian creation myth, the flood is countered by a Noah-like figure who is to build an underground bunker, containing seeds, mostly. Hancock suggests that the underground cities of cappadocia could be those very cities. Of course, possible, as the age of these cities is unknown, but pure speculation.
Then follows a description of the Sumerian creation myths that include the primary bringer of knowledge, Oannes, and his Seven Sages, or wise men. Interesting, but this part of the book is closest to Sitchin's many pretty much fictional stories, even if Hancock is less speculative. One point he emphasizes is that Oannes and his Seven Sages enlightened mankind *before* the flood. After the flood, only surrogates of the sages were left to help mankind along, even if, admitted by much later assyrian and Mesopotamian kings, original, antediluvian, knowledge supposedly still existed.
Hancock then shifts to Edfu, an old temple complex between Luxor and Aswan, containing inscriptions that more than echo Plato's story of Atlantis, going deeper and mirroring the Sumerian creation myth, complete with Seven Sages, serving a master. Though here, the sages are described to have come to Egypt after the destruction of Atlantis, that is, after the flood, as opposed to the Sumerian sages doing their thing before the flood.
Hancock spends a lot of time trying to convince the reader that Egyptian history goes as far back as the flood, through choice pickings of ancient Egyptian texts. But, his wordy treatise takes away from his credibility, as his only objective needs to be making the connection to an antediluvian world plausible, not definite. One connection, which he does makes plausible, is between Gizeh, and Baalbek, in Lebanon. Baalbek, like the sanctuary just north of Gizeh, was called Heliopolos, city of the sun, while there are indications that the Egyptian God Horus actually had come from modern day Lebanon, possibly through a Canaanite connection, the god being represented by a Phoenix, in turn possibly representing a cyclical comet, in turn physically represented by a meteorite, which might have resembled the capstone of the great pyramids.
Next, Hancock returns to Göbekli Tepe, making the claim that a particular depiction on one of the site's pillars represents a stellar configuration that uniquely identifies our time within a range of less than a century (or, to be precise, any similar region in time spaced a good 25000 or multiples thereof, on either side). This seems possible, but the supporting evidence does not seem overly strong to me.
Hancock continues with suggesting that the keepers of ancient wisdom were the Sabians, from the Egyptian for 'star', based in Harran, now in Turkey, while the story of the book of Enoch, a non-canonical bible book only rediscovered some 300 years ago, reinforces stories still available in Genesis, on the Nephilim. The Sabians, worshippers of Hermes, sometimes equated wit Enoch, an antediluvian prophet, survived Islamic prosecution as they managed to claim being people of he book, well, until the 13th century or so, after their last pilgrimage to Gizeh and Islamic golden age. Yet, a copy of the Hermetica, the works of Hermes, showed up with the Italian de Medicis in around 1479, just in time for the discovery of the new world.
Of course, in Hancock's eyes, the Nephilim, or perhaps their angelic parents, are the sages.
In the final chapters, Hancock unnecessarily covers some aspects of both Easter Island and megalithic constructions in Peru.
In short, my take aways: + A meteorite hit earth around 10800BC, resulting in cataclysmic change and a 1200 year long ice age. + Another cataclysmic event happened around 9600BC. + Göbekli Tepe is about 12000 years old, saw its inhabitants create megalithic structures and 'invent' agriculture. + The pyramids probably refer to both the period around 12000 years ago and 2500BC and, perhaps, in part, were constructed much earlier than the generally accepted date of 2500BC. + Baalbek might have been constructed much earlier than currently thought. + Gunung Pradang might date back to around 12000 years ago. + Egyptian creation myths parallel Plato's story of Atlantis and imply referring back to a time that could be as early as 12000 years ago. + Plenty of parallels exist between the Egyptian creation myth and similar myths from other middle eastern peoples. + The Sabians, amongst other ancient cultures, were competent, if not very good, astrologers. + North American Indians have creation myths that seem to talk about a cataclysmic event resembling a major meteor impact.
Hancock's biggest drawback is that he is overly verbose and at times reverts to writing a travelogue. Sticking to the facts, speculating as little as possible, would have done the book, and his credibility, good. Yet, in the end, a plausible theory emerges suggesting that an advanced civilization could have existed before the cataclysmic events of roughly 12000 years ago. Hancock reaches, at times, but his central premise is credible, if still speculative.
Kurlansky starts off by providing the four factors that contributed to 1968's flurry of revolts:
+ The example that was set in the early 1960s by the civil rights movement. + A generation that felt so different and alienated that it rejected all authority. + A war that was universally hated, providing a cause célèbre. + The emergence of yet-loosely controlled, and therefore much more raw and direct, television.
The book's interesting, but also feels a bit quaint. Focusing primarily on the U.S., with reasonable interest in Poland and Czechoslovakia and with a few sidesteps here and there, many of the stories are fascinating for the detail Kurlansky brings to them, but are also a tad obscure. Many of the leading roles were played by individuals that now have been all but completely lost to history. For example, I was very aware, growing up, of Jan Palace, the Czech student who immolated himself in Prague, protesting the Soviet-induced end of the Prague spring. But, in 1968, before Palach, Ronald W. Brazee did the same to himself in the US, after half a dozen or so had preceded him in the years prior.
There are clear parallels with the rampant dissatisfaction of a younger generation and the established order, then, and the more recent Occupy and Anonymous movements. Kurlansky's book, from 2004, predates these.
It's interesting Kurlansky puts the beginning of the end of the Soviet Union at the botched intervention in Prague in 1968. I'm now reading Charlie Wilson's War, where the author puts the end of the Soviet Union squarely on the shoulders on the American intervention, through the Mujahedin, in Afghanistan.
Kurlansky starts off by providing the four factors that contributed to 1968's flurry of revolts:
+ The example that was set in the early 1960s by the civil rights movement. + A generation that felt so different and alienated that it rejected all authority. + A war that was universally hated, providing a cause célèbre. + The emergence of yet-loosely controlled, and therefore much more raw and direct, television.
The book's interesting, but also feels a bit quaint. Focusing primarily on the U.S., with reasonable interest in Poland and Czechoslovakia and with a few sidesteps here and there, many of the stories are fascinating for the detail Kurlansky brings to them, but are also a tad obscure. Many of the leading roles were played by individuals that now have been all but completely lost to history. For example, I was very aware, growing up, of Jan Palace, the Czech student who immolated himself in Prague, protesting the Soviet-induced end of the Prague spring. But, in 1968, before Palach, Ronald W. Brazee did the same to himself in the US, after half a dozen or so had preceded him in the years prior.
There are clear parallels with the rampant dissatisfaction of a younger generation and the established order, then, and the more recent Occupy and Anonymous movements. Kurlansky's book, from 2004, predates these.
It's interesting Kurlansky puts the beginning of the end of the Soviet Union at the botched intervention in Prague in 1968. I'm now reading Charlie Wilson's War, where the author puts the end of the Soviet Union squarely on the shoulders on the American intervention, through the Mujahedin, in Afghanistan.
This is no frivolous account of a journey along the Silk Road. Introspective, in depth, almost scholarly. I had to read slowly to fully grasp the whole text. A joy. The author traveled from beyond Xian, in the heart of China and once the imperial capital, also the home of the terra-cotta warriors, to the Mediterranean at Antioch, now Antalya.
Not only is Thubron's journey epic, his retelling is fantastic. His prose is gorgeous, his sentiment melancholic. Interspersed with in-depth histories of peoples, heroes and geographies, this is perhaps the most impressive travel story I've ever read. But... He flies from Maimana, in northwestern Afghanistan, to Herat. Who has recently traveled the Silk Road without chickening out somewhere?
Thubron easily gives Theroux a run for his money.
At last, clarity as to why typical central Asian shoes have upturned noses: to reduce friction in the sand!
"I'm afraid of, on my travels, nothing happening, experiencing nothing. Emptiness. Of only hearing myself."
This is no frivolous account of a journey along the Silk Road. Introspective, in depth, almost scholarly. I had to read slowly to fully grasp the whole text. A joy. The author traveled from beyond Xian, in the heart of China and once the imperial capital, also the home of the terra-cotta warriors, to the Mediterranean at Antioch, now Antalya.
Not only is Thubron's journey epic, his retelling is fantastic. His prose is gorgeous, his sentiment melancholic. Interspersed with in-depth histories of peoples, heroes and geographies, this is perhaps the most impressive travel story I've ever read. But... He flies from Maimana, in northwestern Afghanistan, to Herat. Who has recently traveled the Silk Road without chickening out somewhere?
Thubron easily gives Theroux a run for his money.
At last, clarity as to why typical central Asian shoes have upturned noses: to reduce friction in the sand!
"I'm afraid of, on my travels, nothing happening, experiencing nothing. Emptiness. Of only hearing myself."
- Ed Young
- Francesco Carotta
- Joseph Horvath
- Tommie Hendricks
- Manfred Junghardt
- Erika Simon
- Fotis Kavoukopoulos
I read the Dutch version of this book a few years ago and accepted the likelihood of the central tenet of Carotta's thesis: the story of the life of Jesus was derived from the life of Julius Caesar. Carotta first published his theory in the book War Jesus Caesar?2000 Jahre Anbetung Einer Kopie in 1999, which was followed by Was Jezus Caesar ?, the Dutch translation, with updated texts a few years later, which I read. This English translation from 2005, which I've had in my possession for a few years now and hadn't gotten round to reading, includes a significant amount of re-evaluated research with a lot of updated details.
Outlandish as the claim may sound at first, Carotta has a very strong case, showing that the parallels between Jesus' and Caesar's lives are so strong and showing so many straightforward derivations of names and places from the life of Caesar showing up in the story of the life of Jesus, that his claim almost becomes a no-brainer.
It's no secret that no (contemporary) historical evidence exists for the existence of Jesus and scholars agree that a lot of the Jesus cult, if you will, was derived from earlier pagan religions. However, Carotta goes much further and postulates that the sudden introduction of the Jesus myth was actually triggered by actual events, distorted as they ended up being. Besides the trivial parallels, such as initials (JC), date of death (the Ides, the 15th, of March) and year of birth (100 years apart), the oddity that the highest seat of Christianity is in Rome, Caesar becoming Pontifex Maximus in 63BC, a title which was passed on, through the Roman emperors, to the popes, the first churches being erected at Caesar (proclaimed God by his peers) and Augustus (by extension the son of God) temples (with the most prominent one, of course, in Rome), the parallels are in fact much stronger and deeper. Carotta shows that the parallels are so overwhelming, they can not simply be coincidental.
Perhaps not surprisingly, with three or four major world religions at stake, all of them accepting the historical truth of Jesus' existence, though valuing him differently, Carotta's theory has had a hard time to reach the public. Surprisingly, however, Carotta is neither the first nor the only one who claims the existence of strong connections between the story of the life of Jesus and the life of Caesar. Also, because of the forced disinterest of both the media and the public at large, Carotta has had a hard time funding his research, resulting in a diverse group of semi-pro translators working on this English release, resulting in the occasional style changes and editorial glitches. However, the quality and depth of this version of Carotta's book is excellent.
It won't be my task to convince you of the likelihood of Carotta's theory, but here are few interesting tidbits.
+ After his capture, Jesus practically refrains from speaking (and the gospels can't agree on his last words). Was he killed at his capture? + Early depictions of Jesus show him as being beardless and, on the cross, in a stretched out position, not hanging (though imagery of individuals hanging on a cross existed). Does it, then, depict an actual crucifixion? + The only verifiable historical characters from the gospels are Pilate and Herod. + "God the father", in Latin, being derived from the word "Jupiter" (via "Deo Pater"). Gotta love stuff like that. + Caesar crossed the Rubicon on January 6. The day the coming of the Messiah was celebrated by the arrival of the three kings (who, incidentally, can easily be explained as representing parts of Octavianus', that is Augustus', past). + The Arab name for 'god' obviously being close to Caesar's first name, Carotta suggests that the birth of Islam might just be the result of former Roman colonies initiated by Antonius and/or Cleopatra working with different versions of books on the life of Caesar than the rest of the former Roman empire. For example, they would not recognize the baby Jesus, that is Octavianus, as the son of God. This, of course, because Antonius and Cleopatra fought and, eventually died, fighting the adopted son of Caesar, that is, son of God. + Carotta points out some parallels between Buddhism and the Augustus cult. Perhaps far fetched at first, proof of Buddha's historical existence is almost as shaky as Jesus', and not unlikely, because Octavianus' early years were modeled in part on Alexander the Great's early years, Alexander had such a large geographical reach and was more of a contemporary with the Buddha, these parallels might indeed be more than trivial, though perhaps not direct. + The imagery used around the nativity scene can easily be traced back to imagery related to the early years of Octavianus. + The Latin for the Ides of March is "eid(ibus) mar(tiis)". The Arab word for feast is "eid". Related?
My major gripe with Carotta's book is that he presents the research in such a way that it seems the conclusion of whether the life of Jesus was modeled on that of Caesar's could go either way for a long time. However, it's obvious from the start that the only conclusion will be that Jesus was Caesar, which gives off the feeling of the result being premeditated, making it less authentic, giving the book an air of trickery. Additionally, after going through half the book or so, you get the picture, Carotta tries to trace every story in Mark back to an event in Caesar's life, and succeeds reasonably well, but at some point, as the method, which is explaining the mistranslations involved, stays the same, it ends up being like redoing the same trick over and over again.
That's not to say that I find Carotta's presentation of how the original texts on the life of Caesar were so heavily bastardized over time very credible. When I studied, well attempted to study, Latin in school and had to do exams, I would understand enough of texts which needed to be translated to get bits right, but by far not enough to come even close to the original meanings of the texts, basically inventing interpolations just to make sense of the bits I did understand. I had perfectly legible Latin texts to work with. The first evangelists had badly hand copied texts, some of whom probably didn't understand Latin better than I did at school.
I read the Dutch version of this book a few years ago and accepted the likelihood of the central tenet of Carotta's thesis: the story of the life of Jesus was derived from the life of Julius Caesar. Carotta first published his theory in the book War Jesus Caesar?2000 Jahre Anbetung Einer Kopie in 1999, which was followed by Was Jezus Caesar ?, the Dutch translation, with updated texts a few years later, which I read. This English translation from 2005, which I've had in my possession for a few years now and hadn't gotten round to reading, includes a significant amount of re-evaluated research with a lot of updated details.
Outlandish as the claim may sound at first, Carotta has a very strong case, showing that the parallels between Jesus' and Caesar's lives are so strong and showing so many straightforward derivations of names and places from the life of Caesar showing up in the story of the life of Jesus, that his claim almost becomes a no-brainer.
It's no secret that no (contemporary) historical evidence exists for the existence of Jesus and scholars agree that a lot of the Jesus cult, if you will, was derived from earlier pagan religions. However, Carotta goes much further and postulates that the sudden introduction of the Jesus myth was actually triggered by actual events, distorted as they ended up being. Besides the trivial parallels, such as initials (JC), date of death (the Ides, the 15th, of March) and year of birth (100 years apart), the oddity that the highest seat of Christianity is in Rome, Caesar becoming Pontifex Maximus in 63BC, a title which was passed on, through the Roman emperors, to the popes, the first churches being erected at Caesar (proclaimed God by his peers) and Augustus (by extension the son of God) temples (with the most prominent one, of course, in Rome), the parallels are in fact much stronger and deeper. Carotta shows that the parallels are so overwhelming, they can not simply be coincidental.
Perhaps not surprisingly, with three or four major world religions at stake, all of them accepting the historical truth of Jesus' existence, though valuing him differently, Carotta's theory has had a hard time to reach the public. Surprisingly, however, Carotta is neither the first nor the only one who claims the existence of strong connections between the story of the life of Jesus and the life of Caesar. Also, because of the forced disinterest of both the media and the public at large, Carotta has had a hard time funding his research, resulting in a diverse group of semi-pro translators working on this English release, resulting in the occasional style changes and editorial glitches. However, the quality and depth of this version of Carotta's book is excellent.
It won't be my task to convince you of the likelihood of Carotta's theory, but here are few interesting tidbits.
+ After his capture, Jesus practically refrains from speaking (and the gospels can't agree on his last words). Was he killed at his capture? + Early depictions of Jesus show him as being beardless and, on the cross, in a stretched out position, not hanging (though imagery of individuals hanging on a cross existed). Does it, then, depict an actual crucifixion? + The only verifiable historical characters from the gospels are Pilate and Herod. + "God the father", in Latin, being derived from the word "Jupiter" (via "Deo Pater"). Gotta love stuff like that. + Caesar crossed the Rubicon on January 6. The day the coming of the Messiah was celebrated by the arrival of the three kings (who, incidentally, can easily be explained as representing parts of Octavianus', that is Augustus', past). + The Arab name for 'god' obviously being close to Caesar's first name, Carotta suggests that the birth of Islam might just be the result of former Roman colonies initiated by Antonius and/or Cleopatra working with different versions of books on the life of Caesar than the rest of the former Roman empire. For example, they would not recognize the baby Jesus, that is Octavianus, as the son of God. This, of course, because Antonius and Cleopatra fought and, eventually died, fighting the adopted son of Caesar, that is, son of God. + Carotta points out some parallels between Buddhism and the Augustus cult. Perhaps far fetched at first, proof of Buddha's historical existence is almost as shaky as Jesus', and not unlikely, because Octavianus' early years were modeled in part on Alexander the Great's early years, Alexander had such a large geographical reach and was more of a contemporary with the Buddha, these parallels might indeed be more than trivial, though perhaps not direct. + The imagery used around the nativity scene can easily be traced back to imagery related to the early years of Octavianus. + The Latin for the Ides of March is "eid(ibus) mar(tiis)". The Arab word for feast is "eid". Related?
My major gripe with Carotta's book is that he presents the research in such a way that it seems the conclusion of whether the life of Jesus was modeled on that of Caesar's could go either way for a long time. However, it's obvious from the start that the only conclusion will be that Jesus was Caesar, which gives off the feeling of the result being premeditated, making it less authentic, giving the book an air of trickery. Additionally, after going through half the book or so, you get the picture, Carotta tries to trace every story in Mark back to an event in Caesar's life, and succeeds reasonably well, but at some point, as the method, which is explaining the mistranslations involved, stays the same, it ends up being like redoing the same trick over and over again.
That's not to say that I find Carotta's presentation of how the original texts on the life of Caesar were so heavily bastardized over time very credible. When I studied, well attempted to study, Latin in school and had to do exams, I would understand enough of texts which needed to be translated to get bits right, but by far not enough to come even close to the original meanings of the texts, basically inventing interpolations just to make sense of the bits I did understand. I had perfectly legible Latin texts to work with. The first evangelists had badly hand copied texts, some of whom probably didn't understand Latin better than I did at school.
Even though iran's political woes have been played out in the press over recent years, the primary underlying cause for Iran's political establishment's disenchantment with the US and, to some extent, Britain, is still understood by few, outside of Iran. The root cause is the 1953 coup which was fully staged by the US, with support from and after asking for help by the British, removing the democratically elected president Mohammad Mosaddegh and setting the stage for the 1979 revolution, a quarter of a century later. Indeed, the Iranian hostage crisis of 1979, which saw Carter's chances of getting reelected evaporate and delivered 8 years of the white house to Ronald Reagan, were staged as a direct reaction to the US allowing the ousted Shah to seek medical treatment in America. As this was seen as explicit support for Iran's royal family, many Iranians expected a similar turn of events as a good 25 years earlier, when it was also the United States who helped the Shah get back on the throne after he had fled the country in the wake of a failed initial attempt at removing Mossadegh.
Sadly, the whole episode of removing Mosaddegh was the result of a very one sided business deal between a British millionaire and the previous Iranian royal dynasty, some 45 years prior, which had been finalized on wildly unreasonable terms for the Iranians. With the British their colonial mindset and Churchill, the archetypical colonialist, reclaiming the British Prime Minister's seat in 1952, Iran's demands of more favorable terms fell on deaf ears. As a result, the Brits presenting their conflict to the newly elected American president Eisenhower as a conflict between East and West, after Mossadegh had expelled all Brits from Iranian soil and nationalized the oil company, it was Eisenhower who became the torchbearer of British interests, inheriting the Brits' intelligence apparatus and, eventually, using it to crush the, at least then, most democratic government in the Middle East. The levels of profit raked in by this oil company, both before and after the coup, were astronomical, yet little flowed back into Iranian coffers. Originally known as the Anglo-Persian Oil Company, it changed its name in 1954, to British Petroleum.
Kinzer's book, full of details which were uncovered little under a decade ago with a partial opening up of the CIA archives, is a thrilling read and makes it very clear that if only the Americans would have stayed away in 1953, Iran would most likely have been the most democratic country in the middle east for decades. That's not to say everything hinged on the US' decision to instigate the coup. More than half a dozen of crucial moments could have gone just slightly different and would have resulted in a much more favorable outcome for both Iran and Mossadegh. But alas.
Even though iran's political woes have been played out in the press over recent years, the primary underlying cause for Iran's political establishment's disenchantment with the US and, to some extent, Britain, is still understood by few, outside of Iran. The root cause is the 1953 coup which was fully staged by the US, with support from and after asking for help by the British, removing the democratically elected president Mohammad Mosaddegh and setting the stage for the 1979 revolution, a quarter of a century later. Indeed, the Iranian hostage crisis of 1979, which saw Carter's chances of getting reelected evaporate and delivered 8 years of the white house to Ronald Reagan, were staged as a direct reaction to the US allowing the ousted Shah to seek medical treatment in America. As this was seen as explicit support for Iran's royal family, many Iranians expected a similar turn of events as a good 25 years earlier, when it was also the United States who helped the Shah get back on the throne after he had fled the country in the wake of a failed initial attempt at removing Mossadegh.
Sadly, the whole episode of removing Mosaddegh was the result of a very one sided business deal between a British millionaire and the previous Iranian royal dynasty, some 45 years prior, which had been finalized on wildly unreasonable terms for the Iranians. With the British their colonial mindset and Churchill, the archetypical colonialist, reclaiming the British Prime Minister's seat in 1952, Iran's demands of more favorable terms fell on deaf ears. As a result, the Brits presenting their conflict to the newly elected American president Eisenhower as a conflict between East and West, after Mossadegh had expelled all Brits from Iranian soil and nationalized the oil company, it was Eisenhower who became the torchbearer of British interests, inheriting the Brits' intelligence apparatus and, eventually, using it to crush the, at least then, most democratic government in the Middle East. The levels of profit raked in by this oil company, both before and after the coup, were astronomical, yet little flowed back into Iranian coffers. Originally known as the Anglo-Persian Oil Company, it changed its name in 1954, to British Petroleum.
Kinzer's book, full of details which were uncovered little under a decade ago with a partial opening up of the CIA archives, is a thrilling read and makes it very clear that if only the Americans would have stayed away in 1953, Iran would most likely have been the most democratic country in the middle east for decades. That's not to say everything hinged on the US' decision to instigate the coup. More than half a dozen of crucial moments could have gone just slightly different and would have resulted in a much more favorable outcome for both Iran and Mossadegh. But alas.
In essence, the book is a compendium of salt-related trivia against a backdrop of world history. This is not as weird as it sounds, as salt is an essential commodity and has often been under strict state control, from China to ancient Rome.
A few interesting bits:
+ The ancient Romans sometimes payed their soldiers in salt, the source of the word 'salary'. + The Frenchified version of 'salary', 'solde', is the source for the word 'soldier'. + 'Hal' is a word for 'salt'. Presumably Germanic or Keltic, but the author does not disclose that information. That means that cities like Halle, Hallstad and quite a few others (in Europe) were named after their major souce of income. + The word for the French used by the Romans, 'Gaul', also hails from the same linguistic source. + 'Salad' comes from the Romans putting salt on their veggies. + Kurlansky (when writing the book in 2002) draws parallels between the European Celts and the Tarim mummies of Uighur China. Something in which he seems to have been proven right.
In essence, the book is a compendium of salt-related trivia against a backdrop of world history. This is not as weird as it sounds, as salt is an essential commodity and has often been under strict state control, from China to ancient Rome.
A few interesting bits:
+ The ancient Romans sometimes payed their soldiers in salt, the source of the word 'salary'. + The Frenchified version of 'salary', 'solde', is the source for the word 'soldier'. + 'Hal' is a word for 'salt'. Presumably Germanic or Keltic, but the author does not disclose that information. That means that cities like Halle, Hallstad and quite a few others (in Europe) were named after their major souce of income. + The word for the French used by the Romans, 'Gaul', also hails from the same linguistic source. + 'Salad' comes from the Romans putting salt on their veggies. + Kurlansky (when writing the book in 2002) draws parallels between the European Celts and the Tarim mummies of Uighur China. Something in which he seems to have been proven right.
Superbly readable biography of a Galician Jew who converted to Islam, was born in 1900 and covering the first 32 years of his life.
His description of his life in Central Europe in the early 1920s is surprisingly recognizable for its moral decay and his clear fascination and adoption of Islam is both well explained and credible. And even though his love for Islam is occasionally seen through too rosy tinted glasses, he is also not completely without critique.
Superbly readable biography of a Galician Jew who converted to Islam, was born in 1900 and covering the first 32 years of his life.
His description of his life in Central Europe in the early 1920s is surprisingly recognizable for its moral decay and his clear fascination and adoption of Islam is both well explained and credible. And even though his love for Islam is occasionally seen through too rosy tinted glasses, he is also not completely without critique.
The title of the book refers to a comment, near the end, where Pisani states that she feels that, in the AIDS industry, "we are all whores". The book's an interesting introduction to 'the business of AIDS', which Pisani on occasions refers to as 'AIDS mafia', though she's also deploying a certain level of hypocrisy. Particularly in relation to her first years at UNAIDS, Pisani tries to show the enthusiasm as well as the amateurishness of those working for the organization, meanwhile seemingly trying to cover up that, though she's now talking about it, she was in no way more professional than everyone else. In fact, the general story of her rise and rise could be construed as an example of opportunism in the face of millions of dollars of funding.
Most of the book is an interesting series of anecdotes, where Pisani occasionally wags the finger at her colleagues and herself and, with it being accessibly written, reads away easily. This makes the book both entertaining and readable but also not much more than something like "my years with the AIDS mafia", the only real value being the very last chapter of the book, where the author recounts her list of solutions for stopping the spread of HIV:
+ Persuade uninfected people to use condoms with partners who are likely to be infected. In East and Southern Africa and most gay communities, that's every new sex partner, in most other places, that would focus on sex workers. Promote lubricants for anal sex. + Provide methadone and clean needles to reduce the risk of injecting drugs. + Reduce the viral load in infected individuals. Keep a mother's viral load down around childbirth. + Circumcise men. Screen for and treat sexually transmitted diseases in sex workers, their clients and their partners.
The title of the book refers to a comment, near the end, where Pisani states that she feels that, in the AIDS industry, "we are all whores". The book's an interesting introduction to 'the business of AIDS', which Pisani on occasions refers to as 'AIDS mafia', though she's also deploying a certain level of hypocrisy. Particularly in relation to her first years at UNAIDS, Pisani tries to show the enthusiasm as well as the amateurishness of those working for the organization, meanwhile seemingly trying to cover up that, though she's now talking about it, she was in no way more professional than everyone else. In fact, the general story of her rise and rise could be construed as an example of opportunism in the face of millions of dollars of funding.
Most of the book is an interesting series of anecdotes, where Pisani occasionally wags the finger at her colleagues and herself and, with it being accessibly written, reads away easily. This makes the book both entertaining and readable but also not much more than something like "my years with the AIDS mafia", the only real value being the very last chapter of the book, where the author recounts her list of solutions for stopping the spread of HIV:
+ Persuade uninfected people to use condoms with partners who are likely to be infected. In East and Southern Africa and most gay communities, that's every new sex partner, in most other places, that would focus on sex workers. Promote lubricants for anal sex. + Provide methadone and clean needles to reduce the risk of injecting drugs. + Reduce the viral load in infected individuals. Keep a mother's viral load down around childbirth. + Circumcise men. Screen for and treat sexually transmitted diseases in sex workers, their clients and their partners.
Essentially a more elaborate version of the film Citizenfour.
Greenwald is at his best when synthesising the US government's history of abuse of surveillance, and its consequences for the fourth estate, the media. Though, he is also overly wordy, perhaps in part as, at the time of publication of this book, Greenwald was still not quite certain of his position vis-à-vis the US government and his chances of facing prosecution. The introductory chapters, on obtaining the documents, read like a bad spy novel, and particularly now, some 10 years after the initial revelations, take away from the importance of the contents of the book. In addition, Greenwald's ability to turn his recounting of the experiences of others really about himself, I know now, is a less-pleasant feature of Greenwald's personality and style, which dovetails with Greenwald's more recent unexpected stances on more current American politics.
Some analyses have mostly been overtaken by reality:
+ Greenwald asks whether the internet will provide individual liberation or omnipresent monitoring, pointing out that both are possible, but now mostly seems to have been answered: A little bit of the former, quite a lot of the latter. + Snowden justifies being based in Hong Kong on the city's arc towards independence from China, which, we now know, was more a anomaly than anything else. + Greenwald's departure from The Intercept, the public row, and the closing of the Snowden Archive, as well as the infiltration of the British secret service at The Guardian, make it difficult to not be cynical about society's options for avoiding full-scale surveillance and the knowledge of such. + Since the Snowden revelations, the US has started accusing Russia and China of doing exactly the things they themselves have been doing, specifically the manipulation through digital services, and the surveillance through both software, backdoors, and hardware. To this point, the rise of Chinese hardware companies is what has made the US government jittery, for its lack of access to backdoors in these technologies. + Greenwald's descriptions on the attempted character assassination against him and Snowden are almost exact, if less severe, copies of what Assange is still facing. What was coming for Assange should have been more obvious. More so, Greenwald's claim that “it is no longer possible for the US government to distract from the message simply by demonizing the messenger” has worked very well for Greenwald, though his rhetoric in relation to Trump could draw some odd conclusions, but not so much for Assange.
Points worth reiterating:
+ The post-9/11 American veneration of security has created a climate particularly conducive to abuses of power. + History shows that the mere existence of a mass surveillance apparatus, regardless of how it is used, is in itself sufficient to stifle dissent. + The ability to eavesdrop on people’s communications vests immense power in those who do it. And unless such power is held in check by rigorous oversight and accountability, it is almost certain to be abused; Expecting the US government to operate a massive surveillance machine in complete secrecy without falling prey to its temptations runs counter to every historical example and all available evidence about human nature. + The NSA is able to turn cellphones into roving bugs, turning them on at will, as long as the battery is inserted. And, in a 2006 federal case, this was deemed *legal*. + The NSA has direct access to communications on platforms like Google and Facebook. + The NSA has shared raw unfiltered data with Israeli intelligence; "As the NSA complained, the partnership was geared “almost totally” to Israel’s needs." + The disturbing entanglement of spying for security concerns as well as economic concerns; "The documents left no doubt that the NSA was equally involved in economic espionage, diplomatic spying, and suspicion-less surveillance aimed at entire populations. " This is underscored by the more recent shift in American foreign security policy, to target 'corruption' abroad, in order to serve their own political agenda. + Snowden: “This was when I really started seeing how easy it is to divorce power from accountability, and how the higher the levels of power, the less oversight and accountability there was.” + The Five Eyes relationship is so close that member governments place the NSA’s desires above the privacy of their own citizens. + There are far too many power factions with a vested interest in the fear of terrorism: the government, seeking justification for its actions; the surveillance and weapons industries, drowning in public funding; and the permanent power factions in Washington, committed to setting their priorities without real challenge. + Democracy requires accountability and consent of the governed, which is only possible if citizens know what is being done in their name.
A few additional points:
"The evidence shows that assurances that surveillance is only targeted at those who 'have done something wrong' should provide little comfort, since a state will reflexively view any challenge to its power as wrongdoing."
"We shouldn't have to be faithful loyalists of the powerful to feel safe from state surveillance."
"Transparency is for those who carry out public duties and exercise public power. Privacy is for everyone else."
"The point is not the hypocrisy of those who disparage the value of privacy while intensely safeguarding their own, although that is striking. It is that the desire for privacy is shared by us all as an essential, not ancillary, part of what it means to be human." and "The evidence shows that assurances that surveillance is only targeted at those who 'have done something wrong' should provide little comfort, since a state will reflexively view any challenge to its power as wrongdoing."
Greenwald in his last chapter points out that the fourth estate and the political elite, in the U.S., have become near-interchangeable. With that, Greenwald identifies a throbbing cancer hiding in plain sight in modern western journalism in general and American journalism in particular: that in the past, journalists took pride in being the outsider, confronting the abuse of power (by the government or others), but that now, many journalists feel they are doing the right thing when their governments praise them instead.
An important aspect of the US' ability to monitor virtually all internet traffic is that, up to recently, most internet traffic ran through the US. Brazil was early in working towards connecting to the rest of the world without having to go through the US. It's now obvious why Putin has done exactly the same thing. This also very strongly ties in to the concept of 'multiple realities', based on contradicting 'facts', invisible to members of disjoint groups.
A nice aside, something I had forgotten after the first time I read the book, is that Snowden in part explains his reason for pursuing societal justice by referring to his experience in playing video games, in which a 'regular' character goes through a typical hero's journey to overcome the worst odds in defeating a nemesis.
Essentially a more elaborate version of the film Citizenfour.
Greenwald is at his best when synthesising the US government's history of abuse of surveillance, and its consequences for the fourth estate, the media. Though, he is also overly wordy, perhaps in part as, at the time of publication of this book, Greenwald was still not quite certain of his position vis-à-vis the US government and his chances of facing prosecution. The introductory chapters, on obtaining the documents, read like a bad spy novel, and particularly now, some 10 years after the initial revelations, take away from the importance of the contents of the book. In addition, Greenwald's ability to turn his recounting of the experiences of others really about himself, I know now, is a less-pleasant feature of Greenwald's personality and style, which dovetails with Greenwald's more recent unexpected stances on more current American politics.
Some analyses have mostly been overtaken by reality:
+ Greenwald asks whether the internet will provide individual liberation or omnipresent monitoring, pointing out that both are possible, but now mostly seems to have been answered: A little bit of the former, quite a lot of the latter. + Snowden justifies being based in Hong Kong on the city's arc towards independence from China, which, we now know, was more a anomaly than anything else. + Greenwald's departure from The Intercept, the public row, and the closing of the Snowden Archive, as well as the infiltration of the British secret service at The Guardian, make it difficult to not be cynical about society's options for avoiding full-scale surveillance and the knowledge of such. + Since the Snowden revelations, the US has started accusing Russia and China of doing exactly the things they themselves have been doing, specifically the manipulation through digital services, and the surveillance through both software, backdoors, and hardware. To this point, the rise of Chinese hardware companies is what has made the US government jittery, for its lack of access to backdoors in these technologies. + Greenwald's descriptions on the attempted character assassination against him and Snowden are almost exact, if less severe, copies of what Assange is still facing. What was coming for Assange should have been more obvious. More so, Greenwald's claim that “it is no longer possible for the US government to distract from the message simply by demonizing the messenger” has worked very well for Greenwald, though his rhetoric in relation to Trump could draw some odd conclusions, but not so much for Assange.
Points worth reiterating:
+ The post-9/11 American veneration of security has created a climate particularly conducive to abuses of power. + History shows that the mere existence of a mass surveillance apparatus, regardless of how it is used, is in itself sufficient to stifle dissent. + The ability to eavesdrop on people’s communications vests immense power in those who do it. And unless such power is held in check by rigorous oversight and accountability, it is almost certain to be abused; Expecting the US government to operate a massive surveillance machine in complete secrecy without falling prey to its temptations runs counter to every historical example and all available evidence about human nature. + The NSA is able to turn cellphones into roving bugs, turning them on at will, as long as the battery is inserted. And, in a 2006 federal case, this was deemed *legal*. + The NSA has direct access to communications on platforms like Google and Facebook. + The NSA has shared raw unfiltered data with Israeli intelligence; "As the NSA complained, the partnership was geared “almost totally” to Israel’s needs." + The disturbing entanglement of spying for security concerns as well as economic concerns; "The documents left no doubt that the NSA was equally involved in economic espionage, diplomatic spying, and suspicion-less surveillance aimed at entire populations. " This is underscored by the more recent shift in American foreign security policy, to target 'corruption' abroad, in order to serve their own political agenda. + Snowden: “This was when I really started seeing how easy it is to divorce power from accountability, and how the higher the levels of power, the less oversight and accountability there was.” + The Five Eyes relationship is so close that member governments place the NSA’s desires above the privacy of their own citizens. + There are far too many power factions with a vested interest in the fear of terrorism: the government, seeking justification for its actions; the surveillance and weapons industries, drowning in public funding; and the permanent power factions in Washington, committed to setting their priorities without real challenge. + Democracy requires accountability and consent of the governed, which is only possible if citizens know what is being done in their name.
A few additional points:
"The evidence shows that assurances that surveillance is only targeted at those who 'have done something wrong' should provide little comfort, since a state will reflexively view any challenge to its power as wrongdoing."
"We shouldn't have to be faithful loyalists of the powerful to feel safe from state surveillance."
"Transparency is for those who carry out public duties and exercise public power. Privacy is for everyone else."
"The point is not the hypocrisy of those who disparage the value of privacy while intensely safeguarding their own, although that is striking. It is that the desire for privacy is shared by us all as an essential, not ancillary, part of what it means to be human." and "The evidence shows that assurances that surveillance is only targeted at those who 'have done something wrong' should provide little comfort, since a state will reflexively view any challenge to its power as wrongdoing."
Greenwald in his last chapter points out that the fourth estate and the political elite, in the U.S., have become near-interchangeable. With that, Greenwald identifies a throbbing cancer hiding in plain sight in modern western journalism in general and American journalism in particular: that in the past, journalists took pride in being the outsider, confronting the abuse of power (by the government or others), but that now, many journalists feel they are doing the right thing when their governments praise them instead.
An important aspect of the US' ability to monitor virtually all internet traffic is that, up to recently, most internet traffic ran through the US. Brazil was early in working towards connecting to the rest of the world without having to go through the US. It's now obvious why Putin has done exactly the same thing. This also very strongly ties in to the concept of 'multiple realities', based on contradicting 'facts', invisible to members of disjoint groups.
A nice aside, something I had forgotten after the first time I read the book, is that Snowden in part explains his reason for pursuing societal justice by referring to his experience in playing video games, in which a 'regular' character goes through a typical hero's journey to overcome the worst odds in defeating a nemesis.
Quite the character, Page was to some extent the inspiration for the character portrayed by Dennis Hopper in Apocalypse Now. A war photographer, specifically active during the Vietnam war, he underwent neurosurgery in the US after a near-fatal encounter. Afterwards, working as caregivers for amputees and traumatized returnees, he worked with Ron Kovic, who's story became the movie Born on the Fourth of July. Derailed is something of a memoir, released in 1995, but written mostly a few years before, detailing Page's return to Vietnam and Cambodia, as a photographer. For me, having visited Vietnam the year prior to reading the book, the country Page encountered only 20 years ago is as different as to how I saw it as it was from when he left it during the Vietnam war. As a result, the book has relevance primarily as a memoir or, if you will, a sign of the times. Page, known for his extensive drug use, too regularly makes a point of his smoking habits, which gets old quickly. Interestingly, he doesn't drink.
A large part of the book is about Page's times with Sean Flynn, the son of Erol Flynn, who went MIA in Cambodia (and who was immortalized in a The Clash song). Later, when returning, Page spent quite some time tracking down what happened to his friend.
Two years after this book was released, he released Requiem, containing photographs by journalists killed in south east Asia during the many wars there. From this, a permanent photographic exhibition followed at the War Remnants Museum in Ho Chi Minh, which I went to see last year.
Quite the character, Page was to some extent the inspiration for the character portrayed by Dennis Hopper in Apocalypse Now. A war photographer, specifically active during the Vietnam war, he underwent neurosurgery in the US after a near-fatal encounter. Afterwards, working as caregivers for amputees and traumatized returnees, he worked with Ron Kovic, who's story became the movie Born on the Fourth of July. Derailed is something of a memoir, released in 1995, but written mostly a few years before, detailing Page's return to Vietnam and Cambodia, as a photographer. For me, having visited Vietnam the year prior to reading the book, the country Page encountered only 20 years ago is as different as to how I saw it as it was from when he left it during the Vietnam war. As a result, the book has relevance primarily as a memoir or, if you will, a sign of the times. Page, known for his extensive drug use, too regularly makes a point of his smoking habits, which gets old quickly. Interestingly, he doesn't drink.
A large part of the book is about Page's times with Sean Flynn, the son of Erol Flynn, who went MIA in Cambodia (and who was immortalized in a The Clash song). Later, when returning, Page spent quite some time tracking down what happened to his friend.
Two years after this book was released, he released Requiem, containing photographs by journalists killed in south east Asia during the many wars there. From this, a permanent photographic exhibition followed at the War Remnants Museum in Ho Chi Minh, which I went to see last year.
The book's a factual account of the story of Amedeo Guillet, an Italian commander during the second world war, in Italian occupied Libya and eastern Africa. The author mixes Amedeo's personal story with informational, occasionally detailed but always well written historical accounts and backgrounds for Italy's adventures as a colonial power in Africa.
Although Amedeo's story is quite spectacular, nearly being killed on numerous occasions, fighting on for the Italians long after the Italians surrendered to the Allied forces, escaping to the Yemen, struggling to get back to Italy, only to volunteer to continue fighting immediately, the first couple of chapters are a bit confusing at times when the mix of historical fact and personal (although factual) adventure is a bit too fluid. It not always being clear when historical accounts stop and personal memories continue.
Nevertheless, the author has captured quite an amazing story and has been able to write it down in an enjoyable style, keeping the suspense in the personal tale and supplying a very good backdrop of information on Italy's reasons for its conquests.
The book's a factual account of the story of Amedeo Guillet, an Italian commander during the second world war, in Italian occupied Libya and eastern Africa. The author mixes Amedeo's personal story with informational, occasionally detailed but always well written historical accounts and backgrounds for Italy's adventures as a colonial power in Africa.
Although Amedeo's story is quite spectacular, nearly being killed on numerous occasions, fighting on for the Italians long after the Italians surrendered to the Allied forces, escaping to the Yemen, struggling to get back to Italy, only to volunteer to continue fighting immediately, the first couple of chapters are a bit confusing at times when the mix of historical fact and personal (although factual) adventure is a bit too fluid. It not always being clear when historical accounts stop and personal memories continue.
Nevertheless, the author has captured quite an amazing story and has been able to write it down in an enjoyable style, keeping the suspense in the personal tale and supplying a very good backdrop of information on Italy's reasons for its conquests.
Quite the character, Page was to some extent the inspiration for the character portrayed by Dennis Hopper in Apocalypse Now. A war photographer, specifically active during the Vietnam war, he underwent neurosurgery in the US after a near-fatal encounter. Afterwards, working as caregivers for amputees and traumatized returnees, he worked with Ron Kovic, who's story became the movie Born on the Fourth of July. Derailed is something of a memoir, released in 1995, but written mostly a few years before, detailing Page's return to Vietnam and Cambodia, as a photographer. For me, having visited Vietnam the year prior to reading the book, the country Page encountered only 20 years ago is as different as to how I saw it as it was from when he left it during the Vietnam war. As a result, the book has relevance primarily as a memoir or, if you will, a sign of the times. Page, known for his extensive drug use, too regularly makes a point of his smoking habits, which gets old quickly. Interestingly, he doesn't drink.
A large part of the book is about Page's times with Sean Flynn, the son of Erol Flynn, who went MIA in Cambodia (and who was immortalized in a The Clash song). Later, when returning, Page spent quite some time tracking down what happened to his friend.
Two years after this book was released, he released Requiem, containing photographs by journalists killed in south east Asia during the many wars there. From this, a permanent photographic exhibition followed at the War Remnants Museum in Ho Chi Minh, which I went to see last year.
Quite the character, Page was to some extent the inspiration for the character portrayed by Dennis Hopper in Apocalypse Now. A war photographer, specifically active during the Vietnam war, he underwent neurosurgery in the US after a near-fatal encounter. Afterwards, working as caregivers for amputees and traumatized returnees, he worked with Ron Kovic, who's story became the movie Born on the Fourth of July. Derailed is something of a memoir, released in 1995, but written mostly a few years before, detailing Page's return to Vietnam and Cambodia, as a photographer. For me, having visited Vietnam the year prior to reading the book, the country Page encountered only 20 years ago is as different as to how I saw it as it was from when he left it during the Vietnam war. As a result, the book has relevance primarily as a memoir or, if you will, a sign of the times. Page, known for his extensive drug use, too regularly makes a point of his smoking habits, which gets old quickly. Interestingly, he doesn't drink.
A large part of the book is about Page's times with Sean Flynn, the son of Erol Flynn, who went MIA in Cambodia (and who was immortalized in a The Clash song). Later, when returning, Page spent quite some time tracking down what happened to his friend.
Two years after this book was released, he released Requiem, containing photographs by journalists killed in south east Asia during the many wars there. From this, a permanent photographic exhibition followed at the War Remnants Museum in Ho Chi Minh, which I went to see last year.
1.
Buarque positions ‘Iberia’, the nation from which Brazil ‘received its heritage’, as a ‘bridge-territory’, through which Europe communicated with other worlds. He characterizes Iberians as 'unique in developing the cult of the personality', individualism, independence, within society. This implies that ‘lasting group agreement’ is not possible unless imposed from the outside, with a lack of social cohesion the norm, with weaker hierarchies as compared to other European nations, as a consequence.
The Iberian, says Buarque, values individual responsibility, meaning that, because of this, not natural human association, but governments were the unifying factor, with military dictatorships being particularly well suited to facilitate this.
Valued personal attributes were things like ‘integrity’, ‘honor’, and ‘seriousness’, not, specifically, a Protestant work ethic; a dignified idleness being seen as more ennobling than the struggle for daily bread. And, with a limited work ethic comes limited social solidarity, except in the personal, domestic, sphere.
2.
The Portuguese were well suited to conquering equatorial lands, particularly because their negligent and careless nature.
Buarque divides societies in ‘adventurers’ and ‘workers’. A society is one, or the other. For the former, the world is of unlimited space. For the latter, one of overcoming difficulties. They are not compatible, though neither exists in pure form. But, 'naturally', nations favoring the adventurous spirit were ideally suited for conquering South America. Spain, Portugal, but also, apparently, England.
The fertile tropical lands could not be scaled up in their exploitation through free labor, as the indigenous population couldn’t, or refused to, work under meticulously organized conditions. Slave labor was a necessity.
Buarque notices that agriculture in Brazil slid into using ‘bad’ methods. “In the agrarian economy, bad methods… have always tended to push out good methods”. To me, this seems a bold statement, but, it appears, is based on the desire for short term gains, only, supposedly connected to the adventurous spirit of the Portuguese. Then again, the destruction of the Amazon could be seen as fitting this pattern, though that could also simply be (more likely, even?) a dovetailing with the root features of capitalism.
Buarque also observes a comparative lack of racial pride in the Portuguese, comparing this with other nations of Latin origin and, more so, with African Muslims. Buarque claims Portuguese have a large proportion of African blood. Quoting 1926 research, Buarque claims that Swahili speakers differentiate between Europeans and Portuguese. But also, Buarque makes the claim that, in the 1500s, Portugal had significant numbers of slaves work the land and function as servants. Either way, ‘racial exclusivity’ was less prominent in Brazil, though Africans were very much considered inferior, even if the native population was less so.
Worker cooperatives, guilds, were not established in Brazil due to the prevalence of slave labor, home industries, and the general shortage of skilled workers. Also, with many regularly switching careers in pursuit of greater profits, craftsmanship was not established.
Buarque puts the spirit of cooperation, when it exists, not towards the achievement of material object, but to the satisfaction of providing assistance to a neighbor or friend.
Then, the Dutch occupation is discussed. The Dutch focus on urban development was significantly different from the Portuguese process. Buarque mentions that ‘the first parliament ever convened in the western hemisphere met in Recife in 1640’. Buarque positions the Dutch as destined to fail; they tried to make Brazil into a tropical Europe, whereas the Portuguese lack of true understanding of the difference between the motherland and the colony, a weakness, was their strength as a consequence. Earlier, Buarque posits that the relatively small numbers of Dutch making the journey was testament to the success of the United provinces at home. The Dutch, like other Northern Europeans, were just not suited to the tropics. The Portuguese adapted. Quoting from a German source, “they became negroes”. In addition, Buarque says, both the Portuguese language and faith found much more fertile grounds amongst Africans and indigenous populations.
3.
Brazil has primarily been a country centered around agriculture. According to Buarque, the industrialized and capitalist shift carried as a consequence the incompatibility with slave labor. Seems to me like a misunderstanding of capitalism, as we now very well understand that modern capitalism and effective slavery go hand in hand.
Interestingly, from around 1850, the import of slaves dried up. As a consequence, to channel the funds that were freed up, the bank of Brazil was founded. But, patriarchal features remained; party politics became a process of staying loyal to the party, not to principles. Buarque connects this to a central feature of Brazil’s agricultural history, where every fazenda itself functioned as a small republic, self sufficient, with the patriarch at its head, while, at the time, the country as a whole did not function as such. Interestingly, apparently, the patriarch in these rural settings had de facto jurisdiction over his family and possessions, able to condemn his family members to death, which Buarque connects to the power of the pater familias in ancient Roma. Buarque then makes a case that, historically, mental capacity, intelligence, in Brazil, has been seen as a kind of commendable feature of the human individual, but not as a source for meaningful potential advancement. Then, pointing out that as a country of slaves and masters, with trade engaged in by foreigners, there was very little base for the creation of an (urban) middle class. The result, on the whole, was a prolonged dependence on agricultural regions and practices. To the extent that cities, until the arrival of the royal court, were surprisingly quiet and run down due to the owners of the houses, landowners, would only visit cities during specific holidays, keeping their wealth in the countryside.
Buarque ends this with another comparison with the Dutch, saying that they actually favoured the city over the countryside.
4.
Buarque draws a distinction between Spanish and Portuguese colonization efforts: the Spanish 'are meticulously organized', emphasizing the role of a well organized, Roman, city as the center of control, with the intention to expand the Spanish state. The Portuguese focused on commercial exploitation, which Buarque compares to Phoenician or Greek methods. So, by the 1550s, the Spanish had already established multiple universities in the new world.
Similarly, the Spanish pursued settlements more inland, at altitudes, with less extreme climates, whereas the Portuguese stayed along the coasts, testament to the often used term ‘interior’, to describe Brazil away from its shores. It’s no coincidence, to Buarque, that the call for Brazil’s independence started in São Paulo, away from the coast, in a city less connected to the coast and, thus, less connected to Portugal. This focus on the coast only reduced after the discovery of gold in Minas Gerais.
Buarque observed that the Portuguese primarily occupied coastal regions that only recently had been taken over by Tupi, they themselves pushing other indigenous groups into the hinterland, while creating a coastal environment occupied by a fairly homogenous group, speaking one language, making it easier for the Portuguese to replace them exactly in these territories. Perhaps more interesting was the mentality of extraction, not settlement, the colonizers favoring exploitation, for they all expected to return to the motherland. The Portuguese went so far that, as late as the end of the 18th century, Brazil was forbidden to produce numerous goods that were manufactured in Portugal.
Buarque continuous to compare the Portuguese mindset with that of the Spanish, through which he explains the differences in colonial administration. The Spanish, more strict, sought control through rules. The Portuguese, with a trader mindset, allowed for more freedom. And Buarque introduces what he sees as the typical Portuguese concept of desleixo; not quite laxity but “it’s not worth the trouble”, accepting life as it is, with a disdain for efficiency and social solidarity. This is followed by a broad range of literary references that, for their obscurity, to me, confuse, as opposed to enlighten.
In the same chapter, appendices mention the lack of the printed word, by design up to the imperial period, in Brazil, and the common use of Tupi as the língua franca in the 17th century.
5.
Buarque argues that Brazilian bureaucracy has not been formal, but has been infused by ideals coming from relationships within the context of family. Interpersonal relations, intimacy, not cordiality, are essential to the Brazilian.
Buarque continues to say that this attitude extended to religion and that that desire for intimacy meant that, by necessity, the republic needed to be created by those outside of religion.
6.
The Brazilian republic was constructed top to bottom, not based on popular demand.
Buarque sprouts flowery prose, including skepticism that full literacy would not necessarily be desirable to improve the fate of the nation. Buarque then mentions an innate shame of Brazilians of being Brazilian, effecting their perception of themselves in relation to others. This recalls the 'viralata' attitude, the mixed-breed inferior dog, often ascribed to Brazilians.
7.
The end of slavery marks the switch away from a state built on agricultural and Iberianism.
Buarque points out that coffee, less intensive agriculture requiring fewer financial investments, made it more democratic, as smaller farms were sustainable, in comparison to sugar exploitation. This also lead to a less rural autonomy.
Interestingly, Buarque makes the case that the trappings of the monarchy remained after abolishing slavery and royalty, while the economic systems, and the societal layers, supporting those structures had fallen into irrelevance, creating a framework of pompous irrelevance.
Also interestingly, Buarque points to the perception of Brazil on the world stage as being full of elevated goodwill toward all nations of the world, resonating even today. However, this policy stemming from that disconnected elite also meant it was disconnected from society at large.
Buarque makes the observation that fascism flows from liberalism, similar to how, more recently, it’s understood that neoliberalism is capitalism that feels secure, while fascism is capitalism that feels threatened.
Buarque identifies victory of the revolutionary change centred on the abolishing of slavery and monarchy through the dissolution of the archaic systems that float on top of society. But, related, Buarque sees Brazil’s struggle as yet being unable to do away with politics centered around individuals, as opposed to ideas.
1.
Buarque positions ‘Iberia’, the nation from which Brazil ‘received its heritage’, as a ‘bridge-territory’, through which Europe communicated with other worlds. He characterizes Iberians as 'unique in developing the cult of the personality', individualism, independence, within society. This implies that ‘lasting group agreement’ is not possible unless imposed from the outside, with a lack of social cohesion the norm, with weaker hierarchies as compared to other European nations, as a consequence.
The Iberian, says Buarque, values individual responsibility, meaning that, because of this, not natural human association, but governments were the unifying factor, with military dictatorships being particularly well suited to facilitate this.
Valued personal attributes were things like ‘integrity’, ‘honor’, and ‘seriousness’, not, specifically, a Protestant work ethic; a dignified idleness being seen as more ennobling than the struggle for daily bread. And, with a limited work ethic comes limited social solidarity, except in the personal, domestic, sphere.
2.
The Portuguese were well suited to conquering equatorial lands, particularly because their negligent and careless nature.
Buarque divides societies in ‘adventurers’ and ‘workers’. A society is one, or the other. For the former, the world is of unlimited space. For the latter, one of overcoming difficulties. They are not compatible, though neither exists in pure form. But, 'naturally', nations favoring the adventurous spirit were ideally suited for conquering South America. Spain, Portugal, but also, apparently, England.
The fertile tropical lands could not be scaled up in their exploitation through free labor, as the indigenous population couldn’t, or refused to, work under meticulously organized conditions. Slave labor was a necessity.
Buarque notices that agriculture in Brazil slid into using ‘bad’ methods. “In the agrarian economy, bad methods… have always tended to push out good methods”. To me, this seems a bold statement, but, it appears, is based on the desire for short term gains, only, supposedly connected to the adventurous spirit of the Portuguese. Then again, the destruction of the Amazon could be seen as fitting this pattern, though that could also simply be (more likely, even?) a dovetailing with the root features of capitalism.
Buarque also observes a comparative lack of racial pride in the Portuguese, comparing this with other nations of Latin origin and, more so, with African Muslims. Buarque claims Portuguese have a large proportion of African blood. Quoting 1926 research, Buarque claims that Swahili speakers differentiate between Europeans and Portuguese. But also, Buarque makes the claim that, in the 1500s, Portugal had significant numbers of slaves work the land and function as servants. Either way, ‘racial exclusivity’ was less prominent in Brazil, though Africans were very much considered inferior, even if the native population was less so.
Worker cooperatives, guilds, were not established in Brazil due to the prevalence of slave labor, home industries, and the general shortage of skilled workers. Also, with many regularly switching careers in pursuit of greater profits, craftsmanship was not established.
Buarque puts the spirit of cooperation, when it exists, not towards the achievement of material object, but to the satisfaction of providing assistance to a neighbor or friend.
Then, the Dutch occupation is discussed. The Dutch focus on urban development was significantly different from the Portuguese process. Buarque mentions that ‘the first parliament ever convened in the western hemisphere met in Recife in 1640’. Buarque positions the Dutch as destined to fail; they tried to make Brazil into a tropical Europe, whereas the Portuguese lack of true understanding of the difference between the motherland and the colony, a weakness, was their strength as a consequence. Earlier, Buarque posits that the relatively small numbers of Dutch making the journey was testament to the success of the United provinces at home. The Dutch, like other Northern Europeans, were just not suited to the tropics. The Portuguese adapted. Quoting from a German source, “they became negroes”. In addition, Buarque says, both the Portuguese language and faith found much more fertile grounds amongst Africans and indigenous populations.
3.
Brazil has primarily been a country centered around agriculture. According to Buarque, the industrialized and capitalist shift carried as a consequence the incompatibility with slave labor. Seems to me like a misunderstanding of capitalism, as we now very well understand that modern capitalism and effective slavery go hand in hand.
Interestingly, from around 1850, the import of slaves dried up. As a consequence, to channel the funds that were freed up, the bank of Brazil was founded. But, patriarchal features remained; party politics became a process of staying loyal to the party, not to principles. Buarque connects this to a central feature of Brazil’s agricultural history, where every fazenda itself functioned as a small republic, self sufficient, with the patriarch at its head, while, at the time, the country as a whole did not function as such. Interestingly, apparently, the patriarch in these rural settings had de facto jurisdiction over his family and possessions, able to condemn his family members to death, which Buarque connects to the power of the pater familias in ancient Roma. Buarque then makes a case that, historically, mental capacity, intelligence, in Brazil, has been seen as a kind of commendable feature of the human individual, but not as a source for meaningful potential advancement. Then, pointing out that as a country of slaves and masters, with trade engaged in by foreigners, there was very little base for the creation of an (urban) middle class. The result, on the whole, was a prolonged dependence on agricultural regions and practices. To the extent that cities, until the arrival of the royal court, were surprisingly quiet and run down due to the owners of the houses, landowners, would only visit cities during specific holidays, keeping their wealth in the countryside.
Buarque ends this with another comparison with the Dutch, saying that they actually favoured the city over the countryside.
4.
Buarque draws a distinction between Spanish and Portuguese colonization efforts: the Spanish 'are meticulously organized', emphasizing the role of a well organized, Roman, city as the center of control, with the intention to expand the Spanish state. The Portuguese focused on commercial exploitation, which Buarque compares to Phoenician or Greek methods. So, by the 1550s, the Spanish had already established multiple universities in the new world.
Similarly, the Spanish pursued settlements more inland, at altitudes, with less extreme climates, whereas the Portuguese stayed along the coasts, testament to the often used term ‘interior’, to describe Brazil away from its shores. It’s no coincidence, to Buarque, that the call for Brazil’s independence started in São Paulo, away from the coast, in a city less connected to the coast and, thus, less connected to Portugal. This focus on the coast only reduced after the discovery of gold in Minas Gerais.
Buarque observed that the Portuguese primarily occupied coastal regions that only recently had been taken over by Tupi, they themselves pushing other indigenous groups into the hinterland, while creating a coastal environment occupied by a fairly homogenous group, speaking one language, making it easier for the Portuguese to replace them exactly in these territories. Perhaps more interesting was the mentality of extraction, not settlement, the colonizers favoring exploitation, for they all expected to return to the motherland. The Portuguese went so far that, as late as the end of the 18th century, Brazil was forbidden to produce numerous goods that were manufactured in Portugal.
Buarque continuous to compare the Portuguese mindset with that of the Spanish, through which he explains the differences in colonial administration. The Spanish, more strict, sought control through rules. The Portuguese, with a trader mindset, allowed for more freedom. And Buarque introduces what he sees as the typical Portuguese concept of desleixo; not quite laxity but “it’s not worth the trouble”, accepting life as it is, with a disdain for efficiency and social solidarity. This is followed by a broad range of literary references that, for their obscurity, to me, confuse, as opposed to enlighten.
In the same chapter, appendices mention the lack of the printed word, by design up to the imperial period, in Brazil, and the common use of Tupi as the língua franca in the 17th century.
5.
Buarque argues that Brazilian bureaucracy has not been formal, but has been infused by ideals coming from relationships within the context of family. Interpersonal relations, intimacy, not cordiality, are essential to the Brazilian.
Buarque continues to say that this attitude extended to religion and that that desire for intimacy meant that, by necessity, the republic needed to be created by those outside of religion.
6.
The Brazilian republic was constructed top to bottom, not based on popular demand.
Buarque sprouts flowery prose, including skepticism that full literacy would not necessarily be desirable to improve the fate of the nation. Buarque then mentions an innate shame of Brazilians of being Brazilian, effecting their perception of themselves in relation to others. This recalls the 'viralata' attitude, the mixed-breed inferior dog, often ascribed to Brazilians.
7.
The end of slavery marks the switch away from a state built on agricultural and Iberianism.
Buarque points out that coffee, less intensive agriculture requiring fewer financial investments, made it more democratic, as smaller farms were sustainable, in comparison to sugar exploitation. This also lead to a less rural autonomy.
Interestingly, Buarque makes the case that the trappings of the monarchy remained after abolishing slavery and royalty, while the economic systems, and the societal layers, supporting those structures had fallen into irrelevance, creating a framework of pompous irrelevance.
Also interestingly, Buarque points to the perception of Brazil on the world stage as being full of elevated goodwill toward all nations of the world, resonating even today. However, this policy stemming from that disconnected elite also meant it was disconnected from society at large.
Buarque makes the observation that fascism flows from liberalism, similar to how, more recently, it’s understood that neoliberalism is capitalism that feels secure, while fascism is capitalism that feels threatened.
Buarque identifies victory of the revolutionary change centred on the abolishing of slavery and monarchy through the dissolution of the archaic systems that float on top of society. But, related, Buarque sees Brazil’s struggle as yet being unable to do away with politics centered around individuals, as opposed to ideas.
Radhika Subramaniam’s Footprint: Four Itineraries is less a book about feet than about the entangled histories, metaphors, and politics that follow in their wake. A hybrid, sitting between critical essay, travelogue, and cultural history, Subramaniam’s text is structured around four “itineraries”, Stride, Pace, Trudge, and Track. The book meanders across centuries and continents, from fossilized prints at Laetoli to the boot marks on the moon, from Hopi migration routes to border patrol surveillance, from urban pavements to the abstracted “carbon footprint.”
Originally posted at walklistencreate.org.
Radhika Subramaniam’s Footprint: Four Itineraries is less a book about feet than about the entangled histories, metaphors, and politics that follow in their wake. A hybrid, sitting between critical essay, travelogue, and cultural history, Subramaniam’s text is structured around four “itineraries”, Stride, Pace, Trudge, and Track. The book meanders across centuries and continents, from fossilized prints at Laetoli to the boot marks on the moon, from Hopi migration routes to border patrol surveillance, from urban pavements to the abstracted “carbon footprint.”
Originally posted at walklistencreate.org.