Cultural consensus and the negation of difference(s)
by Omar Akbar
When one speaks of “culture”, of “culture as a bridging mechanism” or of “cultural exchange”, one tends to see these terms first and foremost in a positive light. Behind this lie the belief, the hope, and above all, the desire that there is a certain cultural terrain that is shared by all societies, and that this common understanding creates an atmosphere where representatives of different societies can communicate harmoniously.
Music is surely a good example of this. Each of us can, for example, empathise with the sorrows of love expressed in a pastoral song, and classical music has been well received worldwide for centuries. The food culture provides another example: specialty restaurants and exotic takeaways offer, on a daily basis, an atmosphere of harmonious cultural exchange.
This alone, however, is not enough to create a cultural bridge, let alone a cultural consensus. It is far more important to realize the limits of culture’s ability to act as a bridge. This is a question of awakening or strengthening the senses to the definitive differences between the cultures, and of ensuring that one’s view is not obscured by cultural aspirations.
The field of culture makes a peaceful impression only at first glance. The closer one looks, the more one sees the extent to which culture can be undermined by conflicts over fundamental values and norms.
Such fundamental differences become particularly clear in cultural conflicts between enlightened societies and the societies where secularism and emphasis on the individual are alien. Terror and the “war against terror”, globalisation and the digital networking it brings, which is increasingly used for all kinds of political and religious manipulation, have given rise to a worryingly volatile situation.
This situation makes a further suppression of differences barely possible. It compels us to reconsider our cultural bearings, and to ask ourselves where we stand. It may also rob us of our remaining illusions of an easily gained consensus between different cultures. Before we can have a real dialogue, we must realise how urgently we first need to reach a consensus on rules and rituals, and we must thereby take a fresh look at the potentials and experiences of civilised dispute. More than ever, we must understand that our spiritual and cultural heritage is both an attitude and an ideal.
Europe, in the course of a history that includes overcoming religious dogmas and dictatorships, has developed a particular acceptance and tolerance in dealing with conflicts and disputes. It knows that certain differences have to be lived with, and have to be endured while the rules for the resolution of the conflict are found. This readiness to compromise and withstand tensions is by no means a weakness. It shows, on the contrary, great skill and strength, and the endeavours made to acculturate and integrate all things “foreign” has contributed significantly to the cultural wealth of European society.
Europe’s individualism was also won in a prolonged rebellion against genealogical hierarchies and traditional behavioural norms. Individualism, however, also encourages and enforces a life of relative independence from fixed social orders, and emphasises the importance of earthly life before any higher being. This tendency to and principle of openness, which puts all loyalties in questions, is both a blessing and a curse.
Consequently, democracy, plurality and tolerance are now intrinsic values in the countries of the Western world, where the processes of modernisation have not only been economic, but also spiritual and cultural. This culture is therefore also always a political culture, since it is based on inviolable fundamental rights and freedoms. Liberation from religious and other traditional fetters has advanced over the past 300 years to bring us a civilisation that has played a pioneering role in the fields of science and economics.
Yet the European idea is also associated with the violent oppression and colonisation of other civilisations. There are many cases where contempt for humankind, violation of human rights and wars have betrayed – and still betray – the fundamental values of European culture.
Nevertheless, these cultural values have by no means been rescinded. Criticism and the ability to rectify mistakes are inherent to enlightened, secular societies. The Vietnam War, for example, was ended not least by protests in the USA and Europe – i.e. by resistance from within Western society itself.
With regard to freedom, democracy and openness we now have some kind of basic consensus, although this is repeatedly undermined and challenged. The ongoing debate remains about the meaning – and price – of tolerance and respect, particularly in the fields of art and culture.
One valuable consequence of cultural history is that art is seen as a medium of individual self-determination and self-affirmation – a process that began at the end of the European Middle Ages. People increasingly came to see themselves as individuals, and artists gradually freed themselves from their religious ties. Since then art has had more and more freedom to deal with the fundamental issues of human existence. The appreciation and freedom that art enjoys is therefore a clear sign of a society that focuses on the ideal of the free and responsible individual.
Living lives where our fate is not determined by a higher being invites us to take advantage of the opportunities we have. This makes us curious about our immediate environment and encourages us to learn and experiment. Nowhere is this ideal of humanity so clearly and yet so ambivalently embodied as in art.
Art represents something mysterious that can never be completely defined. Art must even evade definition in order to retain its mystery. It must be able to facilitate the paradoxical and the unusual – unusual in the sense that it is, in art, possible to examine taboos and norms and to break with conventional boundaries.
In doing so, art aims to convey that everything, basically, could be quite different. It thereby essentially embodies the actual utopia of individualism and individual creativity. It creates an image of a human being as free, and in control of their own destiny. Art puts trust in the individual.
Art is therefore also clearly predestined to be a cultural medium in communicating with the different, the alien and the unknown. Yet it is in art and its acceptance that cultural difference is revealed. This difference generally starts where art deals with fundamental issues – the existential and honest expression of human states of mind; where it also becomes necessary to express the unease and suffering in and of society. Such art is inconvenient, since it is also social criticism, and this often creates difficulties for it both inside and outside the culture that produced it. Art therefore has to be exclusive in order to exist. This, however, does not apply in equal measure to all societies, nor to all artistic genres.
How radical art is depends above all on its integration in society. The more an artistic genre is aligned to the centre of society, the less likely it is to become that paradoxical speciality as, for example, in the case of film or in much of literature. In order to deal appropriately with basic and existential issues, art needs its own out-of-the-ordinary spaces and rituals.
Art, therefore, that deals with differences and uses these to deliberately provoke and elicit resistance, can scarcely be instrumental to the creation of a superficial cultural consensus.
Now the hope and desire that art and culture might pave the way to mutual understanding is based on the profoundly European idea of dialogue between free and autonomous individuals. Art can therefore only build a bridge between autonomous individuals who respect and value their freedoms and differences.
If art is to become a bridge – a mediator between cultures – it is therefore necessary, from the European standpoint, to accept the uncomfortable and often also painful character of art as a free medium of self-reflection exercised by autonomous individuals. One has to tolerate the fact that artists as individuals must be allowed to approach any subject in a critical way, be it morality, sex, religion, or politics.
This also requires an inquiring approach, since curiosity is an essential part of dialogue. Cultural exchange can only come about if both sides are willing to make progress and overcome their own limitations. Dialogue can also cause offence, so the aim is not only to find superficial and general similarities, but to find differences and to articulate these with respect. Here, the issue is one of a cultural consensus on disagreement and open debate. This includes the ability to discuss matters that may be taboo or even prohibited in certain societies. In reality, of course, such a dialogue, where tolerance is borne and tension withstood, is an ideal to which one can only aspire with varying degrees of success. It is, however, an ideal that should not be abandoned.
This applies particularly where public space and its appropriation by art, culture, politics or religion are concerned. For this space is the central institution of democratic societies, which can and must permit the most diverse interests, opinions and positions. This freedom of public opinion should never be abused.
No political party, economic power or religious group should be allowed to control this space. Misguided generosity towards those who reject artistic freedom and who openly declare their intent to confront it with violence on nationalist or religious grounds would be fatal. Moreover, faced with a world where economic and communication networks are thoroughly established, artistic freedom can no longer be treated as a purely national affair.
In recent years we have seen how the mass media – the product of a free, democratic and pluralistic society – has been shrewdly and perfidiously manipulated by terrorists to transform our worst fears, previously confined to the realms of fantasy, into brutal and horrific reality.
Television coverage of the attack on the World Trade Center and video clips of brutal executions leave us with feelings of helplessness and anger. Such images are messages from an ill-definable source of violence and menace that responds to the universal concept of freedom with an equally universal threat. Suddenly, even the staged violence seen in action movies, such as in the Turkish film “Valley of the Wolves” released in February 2006, is seen in a new and darker light. Much of what European society thought it had integrated and learnt to tolerate is acquiring a new and alarming dimension.
In Berlin, “Valley of the Wolves” has broken box office records. The anti-American, anti-Western and anti-Jewish prejudice superficially and provocatively served by the film has met with considerable audience approval. Is “Valley of the Wolves” merely a copy of American action movies in the “Rambo” vein, or does the film signify the beginning of a series of cinematic spectacles intended as vehicles for agitation and manipulation?
Against this background, free democracies are faced with a growing feeling of helplessness, insecurity and disorientation. Security issues are becoming increasingly important, and the nature of debate on immigration increasingly radical.
This insecurity has also affected the artistic and intellectual communities, even before the implementation of a project. A recent example is the discussion on Gregor Schneider’s black cube. The German artist created this black cube for the Venice Biennale 2005.
The sculpture clearly belongs to the tradition of the “Black square” by Malevich, which had greatly influenced the beginnings of geometric abstraction in modernist visual art. Furthermore, it is a painting that examines the notion of the image as such, and the conflicts that this entails.
Malevich indicated this in that he also referred to “Black square” as “The modern icon”, thereby making a connection with the prohibition of religious imagery and/or the strict regulations imposed upon religious imagery.
The “Black square” is far more than the abstraction of a real object and not only a non-figurative representation. The black is the greatest possible absence of light and therefore of visibility.
With this in mind, this manifestation of irrationality with subliminal religious references was for Malevich in 1915 an antithesis to the white, cubic functionality and clarity of Western modernism that at the same time contributed a metaphysical dimension to its development.
Gregor Schneider’s black cube also makes conscious references to the central Muslim shrine, the Ka’ba, in Mecca. That is why the Venetian authorities feared that Muslims could find this similarity to the Ka’ba insulting and blasphemous, and since they therefore feared terrorist attacks, the sculpture was eventually banned.
Recently, the director of the Kunsthalle Hamburg, Hubertus Gassner, reached a decision to exhibit Gregor Schneider’s black cube for the first time as a temporary “monument to tolerance”. This will be done in the context of an exhibition planned for 2007 on the repercussions of Malevich’s “Black square”.
Gassner emphasises that it is important to exhibit this work since it is, as a work of art, particularly suited to initiating debate on imagery and cultural differences. For Gassner, it is important that artistic freedom is not rashly compromised by misguided generosity and a superficial attempt to reach a consensus – even or even particularly – given the current politically volatile climate. Gassner states that: “artistic freedom is one of the things we hold most sacred, and this is something we dare not forget.”
For Gassner, the possible conflicts that must surely be expected are to be seen as an opportunity to finally speak with one another. The museum will therefore host discussions, to which Hubertus Gassner adds: “Should there still be objections from Muslims, we are open to suggestions”.
As far as we know artists never ask for suggestions of politicians or religious groups. But faced with assassination attempts, kidnappings and threats of violence, one could easily come to believe that some kind of global education programme is underway. The images of terror are there to show us that we can be affected at any time and anywhere, that we have no possibility of escape, and that this threat of violence is a direct consequence of our libertarian stance.
This “learning program (...) is also a kind of identity-forming behavioural training. We should learn to fear and obey. We should learn that we are defenceless and that there is no alternative to submission.” (Scholler)*
There can be no doubt that this “tuition” is effective. Governments, politicians and newspapers apologise in understandable fear of new attacks and protests: one attempts to exercise diplomacy. For obvious reasons, artists are also becoming increasingly cautious. However, one can not assume that the threat of terrorism is thus avoided. On the contrary, this form of behaviour is far more likely to be interpreted as a sign of weakness and fear and exploited accordingly.
Faced with these developments, we must ask ourselves what is to become of our concepts of enlightenment, self-determination and freedom. What will the consequences be for us? Where can a clear line be drawn? To what extent, in this conflict, can culture still act as a bridge?
The dangers that now threaten to frustrate any cultural dialogue or even invoke the “clash of civilizations” described by Samuel Huntington compel us to address questions we thought we might have avoided finding answers to: What is dignity? Who are we? Do we really still have a vision of the good and righteous human life that leads us to expect and demand the respect of others?
Eventually, this will depend on our rediscovery or redefinition of our identity. This will depend on the focusing on and utilising of, in the face of global conflict, the basic values and ideas of enlightenment as normative ideals and historically legitimate values.
Yet it seems as if the Western world and European societies are suffering from a curious case of self-doubt. Often, the emphasis is put on the negative and the unacceptable. It is considered inappropriate to speak of the achievements of European culture in an uncritical way, and this is enhanced by feelings of guilt for crimes committed in the name of progress. There is also always the question of whether, given the dark chapters of our history, we have the right to criticise other cultures and societies at all.
Of course, we do have the right, and we are even obliged to criticise, since Europe stands for a concept and a utopia that – even if never fully realised – is one of the dominant foundations of the world. It is a Gesamtkunstwerk of universal significance, to which we must apply ourselves despite all inconsistencies and setbacks.
In the dialogue between cultures, it is necessary to broker a project for civilised human coexistence – a cultural project therefore, based on the rule that an individual’s freedom to be different is a basic condition of solidarity. In this sense, culture can function as a bridge.
In his book “Respect in a World of Inequality” (2004), Richard Sennett expressed the hope that people might openly acknowledge their interdependence. Human solidarity and the character of the individual are always formed, according to Sennett, in the interplay of giving and taking. Dignity can only exist in relationships that accept and organise interdependency. For this, an “asymmetrical exchange” is needed instead of the painstaking and capitalist reckoning of services rendered and returned. “Mutuality does not mean equality,” writes Sennett. His vision is that, both within a given society and between societies, we develop new emotional and symbolic communication rituals of respect to replace the superficial courtesy that blends out differences – rituals that enable us to experience dignity and a sense of dependence, and that are roughly comparable to those used in many ancient cultures to receive guests or celebrate key events such as births, marriages or deaths.
The hatred of Western countries felt by many formerly colonial societies would appear at first to confirm the sceptics’ doubtful view of such a cultural bridge. In these societies, however, we see that the recurring outbursts of anger have a great deal to do with the exploitation of an injured sense of pride. We also see that the hatred is fuelled by the failure to keep the promise of equality within a global welfare state, and by a perceived one-sided dependency. The intensification of social contrasts in societies that feel defeated and marginalised, and where the majority of people have little hope of upwards social mobility, is well-documented.
Where there are no real economic or social opportunities, cultural isolation and the unwillingness to understand seem to be successful political weapons. We can see how real economic and social problems are thereby overlooked. New and old, local and regional authorities base their power on a radical return to tradition and a militant restructuring of politics.
On our part, a lot will therefore depend on whether we can confidently demonstrate what a reflective, critical, open and free society can do, and on whether we can invite the other side to participate without denying either our or their identity. European societies are obliged to do all they can to increase their awareness of the human rights and basic values such as individualism and freedom of opinion, which it took them centuries to win.
This applies to both foreign and domestic policy. We must commit to asserting the universality of human rights, and Europe must continue, in all its acts, to live up to these expectations. Migrants should be offered equal rights, but should also be obliged to meet their social responsibilities in full - that is, become acculturated according to the European concept. There is no room for compromise: genuine integration can only occur when priority is given to the issue of acculturation.
This is a project that may bring many new conflicts, but it is also one that offers Europe the best chance of overcoming its helpless and currently somewhat defensive position on its own concepts, values and ideals. The bottom line, however – on which there can be no compromise – is the following:
A respectful dialogue between cultures can only exist if we advocate, as clearly as possible, our ideal of human rights and the inviolability of the individual, and if we can implement this wherever we are able. Only where human rights are universally respected can there be a cultural dialogue worthy of the name, since such a dialogue makes it possible not to negate differences out of a false sense of tact, but rather to tolerate them and reap their rewards.
* Scholler, Alexander: Im Tal von Ronceval. Vor laufender Kamera: Wir reagieren ratlos auf jene, die sich auf ihre Würde berufen, wenn sie Christen und Juden die Kehle durchschneiden. In: Frankfurter Allgemeine Sonntagszeitung, 12.2.2006
This article is a slightly edited version of a speech delivered by Omar Akbar at the congress “The New European Landscape and the Jewish Experience” held at the Museum of Modern Art in Stockholm, 21-23 March, 2006. Omar Akbar is an urbanist and architect and Executive Director of the Bauhaus-Dessau Foundation.
