Saturday 31 October 2015

Subjectivity, Self-Fashioning and Augustinian Interiority in Chaucer’s ‘The Parson’s Tale;’ A Defence of Stephen Greenblatt.





In the Middle Ages, said Jacob Burckhardt, “man was conscious of himself only as member of a race, people, party, family, or corporation ” (1887. p60.) For Burckhardt, this began to change in the fifteenth century which was “above all that of the many sided men” (p63.)  This idea of a monolithic, hierarchically dominated medieval consciousness superseded by a Renaissance in which individualism and subjectivity emerged, flourished almost unchallenged until the advent of critical theory when postructuralists, Marxists, feminists and other critics are largely believed to have dismissed it along with much of liberal humanist thought.
                However, in the nineties, Lee Patterson and David Aers questioned this assumption and demonstrated a problematic perpetuation of this attitude from Marxist and otherwise ‘radical’ critics looking at literature of early modern England.  Patterson and Aers used, among other arguments, confessional Augustinianism as evidence of a late medieval interiority and subjectivity.  This essay will consider that argument and also that of Stephen Greenblatt who claimed that manipulable, artful self-fashioning and desire for anything other than God was, in fact, antithetical to late medieval Augustinian Christianity. Augustine’s writings about the human subject will be discussed in relation to Chaucer's ‘The Parson’s Tale’ to demonstrate that these two claims are not mutually exclusive.

Speaking of Burckhardt’s notion that, in the middle ages, “man was conscious of himself only as member of a race, people, party, family, or corporation,” Patterson says, “this opinion has resurfaced in contemporary criticism in the form of a Marxist-inspired account of subjectivity, one that thinks to demolish Burckhardtian humanism by reversing the terms of it, but that in fact leaves the humanist master narrative all the more firmly in place”(1990 p95-6.) David Aers, too, argues that Burckhardt’s narrative ‘has been silently, unselfconsciously and uncritically assimilated” by these critics (1992 p195.) The consequences of this, Aers argues, are that “an extraordinarily diversified, complex and profoundly adaptive culture of discourses and practices, was thus turned into a homogeneous, static and uncomplicated monolith” (p178.) Both critics dismiss Stephen Barker’s claim that earlier subjectivity was not a proper subjectivity at all but membership of a hierarchy (LP p97. DA p186. ) Jonathan Dollimore is criticised for making the same claim about hierarchy (LP p97) and speaking of a ‘Christian essentialism’ (DA p188.) Catherine Belsey’s assertion that “The inner space of subjectivity…came into being in the Renaissance” is received very badly by both Patterson (p96) and Aers (189-90.)
To Patterson and Aers, evidence to disprove such claims is readily available and they provide numerous examples convincingly. They both include Augustinian interiority among these. Patterson argues that “Medieval anthropology defined the subject as desire: as the Augustinian will, with its opposed movements of caritas and cupiditas” and points out that “confessional Augustinianism [was] visible throughout the period” ( p100.) Aers suspects the failure of the ‘radical’ critics to appreciate medieval subjectivity is because they are “thoroughly secular and you simply can’t write history of subject unless you take Christianity seriously” (p196.) He adds that, “Anyone seeking to write a history of interiority and the subject must return [to] St Augustine’s Confessions” (p196.) Aers provides evidence of much interiority in the Confessions but also acknowledges that the purpose of this ‘introspective search for self-knowledge’ [is that] we may hope to encounter God” (p183.) To what extent then, are we seeking to know ourselves?
We need first to consider the terms ‘subject’ and ‘subjectivity’.  In contemporary understanding, the adjective ‘subjective’ refers to differing perceptions based on individuals’ own feelings, tastes and opinions. Patterson’s essay argues that complex roles in society are evidence of subjectivity whilst Aers’ focuses more on rich and varied Christian traditions. However, the noun ‘subject’ has a longer history of reference to a person who owes allegiance and obedience to a powerful superior. When one is subjected, one’s own will is suppressed, a place in a hierarchy defined and rules and expectations imposed. This definition is closer to Burckhardt’s claim about the individual as a member of a collective.
This essay will be focusing on Augustine’s writings about interiority and self and showing that, for him, man must only see himself as the subject of God, and feelings, tastes and opinions not related to God must be suppressed. For Augustine, inward reflection is not intended to uncover an individual ‘subjectivity’ but the correctly motivated ‘subject’ who contains the image of an unchanging God. One ‘radical’ critic, discussed by Aers and Patterson, regards late medieval Augustinian Christianity in this light and he is Stephen Greenblatt.
Lee Patterson notes Greenblatt’s nod to Burckhardt when Greenblatt credits him for the earliest perception “that there is, in the early modern period, a change in the intellectual, social, psychological, and aesthetic structures that govern the generation of identities"(in Patterson. p99.)  David Aers takes issue with Greenblatt’s statement that “in the sixteenth century there appears to be an increased self-consciousness about the fashioning of human identity as a manipulable, artful process” (in Aers p191) and that Greenblatt “sees self-fashioned individuals as antithetical to Christianity and Augustine” (p191.) Aers and Patterson do not say that Greenblatt is wrong but point out that evidence for these claims has not been provided.
 However, when Aers says “Only in the sixteenth century do we begin to meet self-fashioned individuals, claims Greenblatt” (p191) and accuses Greenblatt of turning the middle ages into ‘a homogeneous and mythical field’ against which to define Renaissance inwardness and fashioning of identity (192,) we might wonder if this is entirely just.  Greenblatt actually says,
 Christianity brought a growing suspicion of man’s power to shape identity: “Hands off yourself,” Augustine declared. “Try to build up yourself, and you build a ruin.” This view was not the only one available in succeeding centuries, but it was influential, and a powerful alternative began to be fully articulated only in the early modern period (1980.p2. My emphasis.)
We see that Greenblatt does not assert the non-existence of self-fashioned individuals until the sixteenth century, but that the ‘fashioning of human identity as a manipulable, artful process’ was not in accord with Augustinian Christianity which was a dominant discourse.  Neither does Greenblatt deny the earlier existence of interiority but says “What we find then in the early sixteenth century is a crucial moment of passage from one mode of interiority to another” (p84.) This earlier mode of interiority, Greenblatt argues, was prescribed and ordered by the Catholic Church in accordance with the Fourth Lateran council of 1215. Describing this as the “primary Catholic mode of maintaining the obedience of the Christian man by ordering this inward reflection,” Greenblatt speaks of a “systematic, institutionalized form of self-scrutiny” (p85.) He also asserts that “It is a commonplace that for Saint Augustine the essence of evil is that anything should be “sought for itself, whereas things should be sought only in terms of the search for God” (p218.) This is clearly the antithesis of Greenblatt’s concept of ‘self-fashioning,’ and could perhaps best be called ‘self-conditioning.’
Is Greenblatt justified in these assertions? If so, we could not assume that everyone complied with this anti-individualist thinking in the way Burckhardt’s narrative would require. Of course, Patterson’s and Aers’ argument that subjectivity existed at this time and Greenblatt’s that self-fashioning was antithetical to late medieval Augustinian Christianity are not mutually exclusive. This essay intends to provide a little support for Greenblatt’s view without disagreeing with Patterson and Aers.
Augustine’s writing is notorious for the ease with which it can be used as authority for opposing Christian beliefs but, I’d suggest, it would be difficult to read him in favour of ‘manipulable, artful, self-fashioning.’ On the contrary, we find a consistent idea that mankind is fractured and needs to be restored to the pre-lapsarian wholeness lost at the Fall. In his earliest dialogue de Beata Vita, he says in praise of his mother’s religiosity in comparison to his own liberal education “Videtisne, inquam, aliud esse multas variasque doctrinas, aliud animaum adtentissimum in deum”[1] (2:27.)
It is in Confessions that we learn that man differs from the beasts because he has no ‘kind’ but a resemblance to God. “You did not say “according to its kind”, but “according the image and resemblance [to God]”” (13.22.32. in Marion p 30.) Jean-Luc Marion argues that “it is proper to [man] not to appropriate himself or be appropriated to himself; it is proper to him not to resemble himself“(2011 p30.) Man should not aspire to be many-sided or to self-fashion but seek only God. In the City of God, Augustine says   By craving to be more, man becomes less; and by aspiring to be self-sufficing, he fell away from Him who truly suffices him” (14:13.) Man diminishes himself when he identifies with or pursues his own interests. “(B)eing turned towards himself, his being became more contracted than it was when he clave to Him who supremely is. Accordingly, to exist in himself… is not quite to become a nonentity, but to approximate to that” (14:13.) When first man aspired to be more than the subject of God, God granted an independence more akin to slavery  and condemned him to  “instead of the liberty he desired, to live dissatisfied with himself in a hard and miserable bondage” (14:15.)
This idea is seen again in de Trinitate. Augustine says that man should seek to know himself only,
in order that, it may consider itself, and live according to own nature; that is, that it might be regulated according to its own nature, that is, under Him to whom it ought to be subject, and above those things to which it is to be preferred… For it does many things through evil desires, as though it had forgotten itself… (I)t is moved and sinks into being less and less (10.5.7.)
Mateusz Strozynski  argues that “Augustine says the mind does not remain in God, who is the source also of its self-knowledge, but falls into multiplicity… Thus a sort of a false selfhood emerges” (2013 pp292 -293.) It seems that subjective perceptions and artful self-fashioning are very likely to be seen by Augustine as a false selfhood.
Instead, man must look inwardly for God in the Trinity in the mind. Augustine writes, “the mind remembers, understands, loves itself; if we discern this, we discern a trinity, not yet indeed God, but now at last an image of God” (de Trin. 15.8.11.) Marion relates this to a passage in de Civitate Dei   in which Augustine says that man goes through himself to God (quo itur Deus, qua itur homo) (CD 11.12. In Marion p28.) Marion shows “that one must go toward the image through the resemblance: man bears the image of God up to the point that he gives up any resemblance to himself”(p28.) When men give up themselves and seek God, they find a single true nature and the unchanging God.  The theological, Kenneth Boa explains “(T)he bond of a common nature makes all human beings one. Nevertheless, each individual in this community is driven by his passions to pursue his private purposes. “This is ultimately unsatisfying… (N)othing but Absolute Being can satisfy human nature(2004 p320.)
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We can see a consistent theme within Augustine’s writing in which humanity has fallen but possesses the faculty to access God and recover our true unitary nature and place but that we sin by desiring other things instead of keeping our reason focused on God. However, it is difficult to know how Augustine was being read during the fourteenth century. Much of his work was only available in scraps, and misattributions and his own ambiguities complicated the issue further.
Eric Saak’s study Creating Augustine: Interpreting Augustine and Augustinianism in the Later Middle Ages (2012) argues that the true late medieval Augustinianism was that disseminated by the Ordo Eremitarum Sancti Augustini . Formed in 1256, this was an eremitical and scholarly order, sworn to poverty, meditation and rejection of worldly pleasures and material goods.   Linda Olson looks at secular scholars reading Augustine’s Confessions and specifically,  John de Grandisson, borrows Greenblatt’s concept of ‘self-fashioning’ but does not use his theory. de Grandisson, to Olson, does not fashion himself artfully or manipulably but uses the Confessions as an authority, a template and an aid to self-examination.  She concludes “I do not think that Grandisson's way of reading and using the Confessiones as a personal guide and self-shaping text was extraordinarily unusual in fourteenth century England” (1997 p236.) Again, this self-shaping sounds like self-conditioning.
John Martin’s consideration of individuality draws on both Greenblatt and Burckhardt when he traces the shift in meaning of the word ‘prudence’ from the late medieval to the early modern period and attributes the earlier meaning to Augustine. Acknowledging ‘ a deep sense of inwardness and interiority’(1997 p1323) growing in the eleventh and twelfth century, Martin shows ‘prudence’ shift from being an Augustinian Christian virtue of ‘holding the passions and the appetites in check’ (p1323) and a concordance of mind, word and deed  in maintaining Christian values (p1327) to, by the end of the sixteenth century, an ethical strategy in which one projected the most appropriate impression of oneself in any given situation whilst “at the same time preserving his own inner freedom” as epitomised by Machiavelli (p1332-5.) This semantic difference could certainly be seen as evidence of a shift from self-conditioning to self-fashioning in dominant discourses.
However, evidence of eremitical dissemination of Augustine, use of Augustine for self-shaping and language shifts away from Augustinian definitions are more speculative than conclusive and Markus Wreidt’s 2005 study into late medieval Augustinianism concludes that we cannot speak of a certain reception of Augustine’s writings until considerably more systematic study has been done. Wreidt’s recommended methodology includes a systematic review of texts that use phrases like ‘as Augustine says’ and attributes certain ‘motives, thoughts and elements’ to Augustine in relation to the context in which his authority is being claimed (p7.)  One such text is Geoffrey Chaucer’s ‘Parson’s Tale.’ The Canterbury Tales are referred to by Patterson, Aers and Greenblatt and the “Parson’s Tale” refers, above all, to Augustine.  
To Patterson and Aers, Chaucer’s writing provides clear evidence that subjectivity existed in the late medieval period. Although Greenblatt points out that “the verb ‘fashion’ does not appear at all in Chaucer’s poetry” (p2,) Patterson says of The Canterbury Tales that it’s ‘subject is hardly anything other than the subject”(pp99-100.) Clearly, Chaucer does produce complex characters and Greenblatt acknowledges this.   "One need only think of Chaucer's extraordinarily subtle and wry manipulations of persona to grasp that what I propose to examine does not suddenly spring up from nowhere when 1499 becomes 1500” (p1.) This does not mollify Patterson who perceives it as a ‘gesture’ that allows Greenblatt then to fail to consider the historical significance of this (p99.) Aers uses ‘The Parson’s Tale’ as an example of standard teaching following the Fourth Lateran Council, which provides important evidence of ‘self and inwardness’ (p185) but we have seen that Greenblatt considered the orders of the Council to have led to a prescribed and ordered mode of interiority quite different to his artful and manipulable ‘self-fashioning’.   Many editions of The Canterbury Tales have omitted ‘The Parson’s Tale,’ and many critics have regarded it as merely a typical sermon or penitence treatise detailing sins systematically by number and degree with uninteresting orthodoxy. Top of FormPomer
I would suggest that a useful way to look at ‘The Parson’s Tale’ is provided by H. Marshall Leicester in his 1990 consideration of the Wife of Bath's Tale, the Pardoner's Tale, and the Knight's Tale. Like Patterson, Leicester says that ‘Chaucer’s subject is the subject’ (p15) but he differentiates ‘self’ from ‘subject.’ The self resembles the humanist idea of an autonomous, coherent and stable essence but, to Leicester, the "subject" is "a position in a larger structure, a site through which various forces pass" (p14.) It seems a ‘subject’ is a “member of a race, people, party, family, or corporation.”  If we extend Leicester’s analysis to include ‘The Parson’s Tale’, we see that the parson represents the subject in subjection to God. The previous tales have presented us with individual characters of all classes and vocations with distinct and complex personalities. The parson draws them all together and stresses their shared conditions as fallen humans under God and their common aim to achieve salvation.
In a 1978 essay looking at ‘The Parson’s Tale’, Lee Patterson notes "the certainties of the Parson's Tale render the complexities of the tales inconsequential and sophistical" (p370).It does this with suddenness.
This persone him answered al at ones,
“Thou getest fable noon y-told for me;
For Paul, that wryteth unto Timothee,
Repreveth hem that weyven soothfastnesse
And tellen fables and swich wrecchednesse (ll.30-34)
Daniel Pigg argues that “The Prologue sets the stage for such a shift by allowing an hegemonic shift from the expanding world of socio-economic discourses to an older, traditional one” (1997 p252.) This change too is abrupt and explicit. ‘The Parson’s Tale’ begins with Jeremiah 6:16 State super vias et videte et interrogate de viis antiquis, que sit via bona; et ambulate in ea, et in venietis refrigerium animabus vestria[2] before proceeding to cite many biblical and patristical sources but above all, Augustine.  If we discard references to Augustine which are simply support of biblical prohibitions, we are left with a distinctive theology focusing on subjection to God, rejection of all else, the importance of systematic self-examination and the need to recognise a common and corrupt nature and attempt to retain, by penitence and piety, man’s rightful place beneath God.
We saw that Greenblatt had observed that, for Augustine, the essence of evil is anything sought for itself rather than to find God. Chaucer’s Parson says this three times & attributes it to Augustine. ‘Deedly sinne’ as seith seint Augustin, ‘is whan a man turneth his herte fro god, which that is verray sovereyn bountee, that may nat change and yeveth his herte to thing that may chaunge and flitte’ (l.367) Venial sin becomes powerless, Augustine is cited as having said “If man love God in swiche manere, that al that evere he doth is in the love of God and for the love of God” (l.382)  and  Avarice, after the description of seint Augustin is likerousness in herte to have erthely things/ it dooth wrong to Jesu Crist/for it bireveth him of the love that men to him owen “(l.740-744.)
We have seen that Augustine described sin as lowering the status of man and placing him in bondage. The parson describes sin as slavery (thraldom) a total of eight times and first attributes this to Augustine, “Augustinus de civitate libro nono. Sooth is that the condiccioun of thraldom and the firste cause of thraldom Is for sinne” (l.754.)  For Augustine, to sin was to lower oneself from the rightful position below God and become more like the beasts.  Man is subject to God but there is no shame in being a ‘subject’ as there is in being a slave.  Chaucer’s Parson outlines Augustine’s hierarchy of the self,
God and resen and sensualitee, and the body of man been so ordeyned that…/god sholde have lordship over reson, and reson over sensualitee and sensualitee over the body of man. But sothly when this ordre or ordinance is turned up-so-doun./And therefore thane as for-as-much as the reson of man ne wol nat be subget ne obeisant to god, that is his lord by right, therefore leseth it the lordeshipe that it sholde have over sensualitee, and eek over the body of man. (ll.260-64 )

We see a levelling effect when man is placed in a spiritual rather than social hierarchy. This is even more explicit in lines 461-2,
 “We ben alle of o fader and of o moder: and all we been of o nature rotten and corrupt, both riche and povre./ For sothe, oo manere gentrye is for to preise, that appareilleth mannes corage with virtues and moralitees and make him Christ’s child.”
                By reducing man to a single corrupt nature, by dispelling pride of all sorts, the parson re-evaluates human worth.  As Martin had argued, this fourteenth century parson stresses the need for internal thought and external deed to accord and to be virtuous. “And also a man sholde sorwe, namely, for all that evere he he hath desired agayne the lawe of god/ For certes ther is no deedly sinne, that it nas first in mannes thought, and after that in his delyt, and so forth in-to consentinge and in-to deed “(ll. 295-6)  Equally, Augustine is cited as having said that abstinence  is “‘ is litel worth but-if a man have good will ther-to” (l.831.) The parson points out that God not only forbade adultery in deed but also coveting one’s neighbor’s wife. ”In this heeste, seith seint Augustin, is forboden alle manere coveitise to doon lechery “(l.844.) In fact, “Seint Augustin seith sinne is every worde and every dede, and al that men coveiten agayn the lawe of Jesu crist; and this is for to sinne in herte, in mouthe and in dede, by thy five wittes that been sighte, herings, smellings, tasting or savouring, and felinge” (ll.957-8) The parson tells us that sin is all that is natural and material and he attributes this to Augustine.
Daniel Pigg places ‘The Parson’s Tale’ in the genre of ‘aids to confession’ available to men like the Parson.  They were, he tells us, “intended to probe the conditions of the self, not as an autonomous whole, but as the ideological or spiritual battleground for the deadly sins” (1997 p89.) The desired result was “the elimination of those characteristics which would individualize a person, so that the penitent could be reintroduced into the religious community; thus the process was designed to refashion a subject rather than to develop an individual” (1997 p90.) Again, this re-fashioning is very different to Greenblatt’s self-fashioning. Systematically, the parson has broken his audience down, out of their class and out of their social roles. He has reduced them to a common corrupt nature, led them to examine their desires, their speech and their actions and required them to reject all that is not conducive to the pursuit of God.

We could look back at all the other tales and list a vast variety of worldly concerns and personal traits which must now be discarded.  In the confessional, the parson would now shrive the pilgrims of these ‘sins’ and send them back into the world in a uniform state, devoid of the personal traits and drives that made them such compelling subjects.  Of course, these would soon reassert themselves and the penitence process would have to be gone through again and this, I would argue, is what supports the arguments of Aers and Patterson and that of Greenblatt. Of course, subjectivity in the sense of individual perceptions, opinions, feelings and tastes existed. The detailed penitence tracts that catered to the vast variety of sinful behaviour and misdirected desire as demonstrated by the parson would hardly have been necessary if it did not. Patterson and Aers are right to claim that the Canterbury Tales shows the existence of subjectivity before the sixteenth century but, within that text, there is also considerable evidence that Greenblatt’s claim that self-fashioning and desiring anything but God was antithetical to Augustinian Christianity was also true. Augustine’s own writings have confirmed this and Chaucer makes much use of them in ‘The Parson’s Tale’.  Subjectivity and psychologically complex human beings clearly existed in the late medieval period but from an Augustinian point of view, this was undesirable.

 

 

 

 


Bibliography


Aers. D. (1992) ‘A Whisper in the Ear of Early Modernists; or, Reflections on Literary Critics Writing the ‘History of the Subject.’ In Culture and History: 1350- 1600: Essays on English Communities, Identities and Writing. Michigin. Wayne State University Press.
Augustine of Hippo (c. 420) (1887)City of God (Translated by Dods. M) in The Complete Works of Saint Augustine, Schaff. P (Ed)    
Augustine of Hippo ( c.387)  (2013) de Beata Vita  in Sancti Aureli Augustini Contra Academicos Libri Tres. de Beata Vita Liber Unus. de Ordine Libri Duo.Reprint. Hardpress Publishing (2013)
Augustine, Matthews.B  (400) (2002) Augustine: On the Trinity (Translated by McKenna.S) Cambridge. Cambridge University Press.     
Boa. K. (2004) Augustine to Freud: What Theologians & Psychologists tell us about Human Nature. Tennessee. B & H Publishing Group.
Burckhardt. J.  (1878) The Civilization of the Renaissance in Italy. Available at: http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/2074
Chaucer. G . (1969) The Canterbury Tales in Chaucer: Complete Works. Reprint. Oxford University Press.
Greenblatt. S.  (1980) Renaissance Self-Fashioning: From More to Shakespeare. University of Chicago Press.
Hundert.E. (1992)  ‘Augustine and the Sources of the Divided Self.’ Political Theory  20,(1)  pp. 86-104. JSTOR  Available at: http://www.jstor.org/stable/191780  (Accessed: 21/10/2014)
Leicester. H.  (1990) ‘The Disenchanted Self: Representing the Subject in the Canterbury  Tales.’   Berkeley, Los Angeles, and Oxford: University of California Press
Marion. J  (2011) "Resting, Moving, Loving: The Access to the Self according to Saint Augustine." Journal Of Religion 91 (1) pp 24-42. Academic Search Complete. Available at:EBSCOhost.com (Accessed 21/10/2014)
Martin. J. (1997) ‘Inventing Sincerity, Refashioning Prudence: The Discovery of the Individual in Renaissance Europe.’ The American Historical Review, 102( 5) pp. 1309-1342. JSTOR Available at: http://www.jstor.org/stable/2171065 (Accessed: 21/10/2014)
Olson. L. (1997)  ‘Reading Augustine’s Confessiones  in fourteenth-century England: John de Grandisson’s Fashioning of Text and Self. Traditio, 52  pp. 201-257 JSTOR  Available at: http://www.jstor.org/stable/27831951 (Accessed: 06/11/2014 )
Patterson.L. (1990) ‘On the Margin: Postmodernism, Ironic History and Medieval Studies.’ Speculum.  65. Pp 87-108.
Patterson. L. (1978) ‘The 'Parson's Tale' and the Quitting of the Canterbury Tales’.Traditio. 34. pp. 331-380 JSTOR Available at: http://www.jstor.org/stable/27831048
Pigg. D. (1997) "Figuring Subjectivity in Piers Plowman C, the Parson's Tale, and Retraction: Authorial Insertion.." Style. 31 (3) 428. Academic Search Complete, Available from: EBSCOhost.com (Accessed 06/11/ 2014)
Saak.E. (2012) Creating Augustine: Interpreting Augustine and Augustinianism in the Later Middle Ages. Oxford. Oxford University Press
Strozynski. M. (2013) “There is No Searching for the Self: Self-Knowledge in Book Ten of Augustine's De Trinitate.” Phronesis, 58( 3) pp. 280-300. Jstor. Available at:http://0-www.jstor.org.catalogue.ulrls.lon.ac.uk/stable/42000239

Wriedt. M. (2005)  “Late Medieval Augustinianism: A Reassessment.”Contribution to panel 120  “Auctoritas Patrum: The Authority of the Early Church in the Reformation at the Sixteenth Century Studies Conference.”  Atlanta, GA, October 20 – 23,


[1] (“Do you see, I say, how different it is to have various and multiple disciplines of learning and to have a mind totally focused on God?” My translation. )
[2]  Stand upon the roads, ask the pathways of old which is the way to good things, and walk it; thus you will find rest for your souls.

Monday 21 September 2015

How have the teachings of Muhammad ibn Abd al-Wahhab influenced everyday life in Saudi Arabia?


               
     When Muhammad ibn Abd al-Wahhab (1703-92) and Muhammad ibn Saud (d 1765) formed an alliance in the late eighteenth century, this bond was to have lasting significance for the region which later became Saudi Arabia. Daoud Al-Shiryan, deputy director of Al-Arabiya TV, said of the movement known as ‘Wahhabism,’ "This movement had never known revolution, or rebellion …It was born, and grew, under the aegis of a military man, [Muhammad bin Saud], and produced a stable, monarchic state” (In Memri 2010.) Others regard the influence of Sheikh Muhammad ibn Abd al-Wahhab’s teachings on contemporary everyday life in Saudi Arabia less positively and have associated them with such issues as a problematic conflation of religion and government, resistance to modern art and technology, the denial of rights to women and intolerance of any who are not Sunni Muslims. This essay considers a variety of views on the extent to which the Sheikh’s teachings influenced these issues and suggests that, whilst they are frequently cited in relation to them all, it is not clear that any of them are solely the result of the influence of the teachings of ibn Abd al-Wahhab.
Muhammad ibn Abd al-Wahhab is described by Karen Armstrong as “a typical reformer” who believed in “a fundamentalist return to the Quran and sunnah, and a militant rejection of all later accretions” (2000 p133) whilst John Esposito distinguishes him from other Muslim reformers by arguing that “he equated Islam and Arab” and that because of this, “his mode of revivalism was a more literalist recreation of the life and customs of the early Medinan community” (1988 p119.) The Sheikh’s primary message centred on the essential nature of ‘tawheed’ (monotheism) to Islam. In his work Kitaab At-Tawheed his definition of ‘shirk’ (polytheism) includes the erection of shrines, divination, occult practices and the love of other people or objects to the same extent as Allah.
       The term used to describe the Sheikh’s interpretation of Islam has become known as “Wahhabism” and its followers as ‘Wahhabis.”   Armstrong maintains that “Wahhabism is the form of Islam that is still practised today in Saudi Arabia (2000. P133.)” and Akbar Ahmed asserts that “Saudi society is dominated by Wahhabi ideology”(2007.loc.1336.) However, Prince Salman ibn 'Abd Al-'Aziz of Saudi Arabia insists that ‘Wahhabism’ does not exist saying  "Any person of integrity who familiarizes himself with the letters and books of Sheikh Muhammad ibn 'Abd Al-Wahhab will discover that this preaching contains nothing new that is contrary to the Koran and the Sunna ” (in Memri 2010 .)  Others argue that the current ‘Wahhabi movement’ conforms neither to Islam nor even to the teachings of ibn Abd al-Wahhab. The anthropologist Mai Yamani says “the new trend … for all these neo-Wahhabis …(is to use) Islam to legitimise political, economic social behaviour. I don’t think it has to do with Islam” (in PBS.)
     These contradictory perspectives make discovering exactly how the teachings of Muhammad Ibn Abd al-Wahhab have influenced everyday life in Saudi Arabia problematic. However, by comparing the teachings of the Sheikh with those aspects of society which are associated with him or with “Wahhabism” using a variety of sources, we may be able to distinguish some ways in which his teachings have been regarded as guidance, authorisation or incitement for aspects of everyday life in the kingdom.    
      The following evaluations of “Wahhabi” influences on Saudi Arabia summarise the most commonly held associations.  Ibrahim 'Issa, editor of the Egyptian Newspaper Al-Dustour critically asserts “ It is [Wahhabism] that until prevented girls and women from studying; it is [Wahhabism] that bans them from driving vehicles; it is [Wahhabism] that declares the Shi'ites to be infidels; it is [Wahhabism] that bans elections. (in Memri 2010.)  Saudi researcher 'Abdallah Al-Khalil, having positively conflated Wahhabism and Salafism, nevertheless identifies three problems requiring reform: “The function of the modern state with regard to women, the Salafi attitude towards art, including theater, cinema (and) the plastic arts and the Salafi attitude toward the other, both within the Islamic nation and outside it” (in Memri. 2010. ) In these, and other assessments, we see that the  conflation of religion and government, attitudes towards technology and modern art, the status of women and attitudes to the ‘other’ are aspects of everyday life believed to be related to the continuing influence of ibn Abd al-Wahhab. 
     Dr Jaafar Sheikh Idris in his pro-Wahhabi essay ‘The Islamic Fundamentalism of the Wahhabi Movement’ discusses ibn Abd al-Wahhab’s teachings on obeying only God saying “ It is because of this principle of obedience being due to God only that Muslims reject the Western, secular idea of the separation of church and state” (2012.) We see that in Kitaab at-Tawheed, (ch 37) the Sheikh did interpret " Do you not see those who claim that they believe in what was revealed to you and to those before you? They wish to resort to At-Taaghoot for judgement" (Qur'an 4:60) to indicate  “(t)he forbiddance of seeking judgement from other than the Book of Allah and the Sunnah of His Messenger.” However, the combination of ‘church’ and state has a history in Islam which began with the prophet Muhammad and cannot be directly attributed to Ibn Abd al-Wahhab.
      It is evident that the sheikh could not have said anything about the use of modern technology and so any use of his teachings to support an argument about this will be analogous and interpretive at best. Most scholarly studies into this have focused on the seizure of the Holy Mosque at Mecca al-Mukarramah[1]  in 1979 in which the banning of televisions and radios was demanded. However, it was King Faisal who legalised these with the consent of the Saudi Ulama which supported the teachings of ibn Abd al-Wahhab and included many of his descendants so it is not clear that an argument linking ‘Wahhabism’ and rejection of film and technology is entirely supported.
     We come across contradiction again when considering women’s rights in relation to the teaching of ibn Abd al-Wahhab. The article by Hajar Laalaj in 2013 entitled “Women’s Rights in Saudi Arabia: Wahhabism vs. Islam,” links Wahhabi ideology with the denial of rights to women which the writer claims are not supported by the Quran or by the lives of the prophet’s wives. Laalaj attributes to Wahhabi influence the requirement to wear the full black abaya, segregation and exclusion from areas of study in higher education system and restrictions on women’s rights to travel and obtain commercial licenses. She says “The very fact that such elevated segregation is unique to Saudi and more recently to the Wahhabi Taliban, is evidence of the weight that this theological ideology plays in shaping attitudes against women.”  However, Natana. J. Delong-Bas suggests that ‘contemporary misogyny” in Saudi Arabia is more to do with patriarchy or local customs than the influence of ibn Abd al-Wahhab. She insists that “these contemporary interpretations of Wahhabism do not necessarily reflect the writings or teachings of Ibn Abd al-Wahhab. In fact …he sought to ensure that women’s rights as granted by the Quran were implemented and that women were aware of them” (2004 pg 124.)
        In Kitaab At-Tawheed, we find little mention of women at all. In Chapter Seven the Sheikh says that it is insulting to Allah to give him ‘weak women’ for daughters (the pagan goddesses) when everyone prefers sons and in Chapter Forty-Eight, he asserts “the superiority of man over woman in that he was created before her.” This is distinctly anti-feminist but does not specify the denial of any rights to women. Delong-bas assures us we will not find that ibn Abd al-Wahhab advocated this (p124.)
     The accusations of intolerance of the ‘other’ directed at Muhammad Ibn Abd al-Wahhab  seem the most substantiated.  Kitaab At-Tawheed, with its very narrow definition of true Muslims, denounces Christians and Jews as ‘excessive’ (Ch 17) and users of sorcery (22) and singles out the Jews specifically for accusations of ‘false flattery and concealment of truth’ (21.) Ahain Ismail, discusses anti-Shi’ite rhetoric among the Saudi Ulema and relates it to the sheikh’s condemnation of the Shi’a veneration of the shrines of Ali and Huseyn. Ismail argues, “The attitudes of modern day clerics can be traced back to Muhammad ibn ‘Abd al-Wahhab’. He goes on to give numerous examples of accusations of sorcery, conspiracy against Sunni Muslims and disloyalty to the Saudi Arabian state levelled at the Shi’a.
Ali al-Ahmed, a Saudi Arabian Shi’a, describes having encountered this attitude at school. “The religious curriculum in Saudi Arabia teaches you that people are basically two sides: Salafis (Wahhabis) who are the winners, the chosen ones, who will go to heaven and the rest. The rest ..are either Kafirs who are deniers of God, or Mushrak, putting gods next to God or ennervators (sic – presumably innovators) that’s the lightest one …And all of these people are supposed to be hated, to be persecuted, even killed” (in PBS)
Mansour al-Hajj, a liberal Saudi columnist, supports this with evidence of the curricula in schools showing in 2008 that, " the ninth-grade curriculum includes the following hadith: "It was related by Abu Huraira that the Prophet said, 'Judgment Day will not come until you fight the Jews and kill them” and that the eighth grade curriculum describes Jews as ‘apes and swine’ and that the in the eleventh grade, students are taught that the Baha’I religion is 'one of the destructive mystic cults of the modern era.'  He summarises this perspective saying "I wish to clarify that in Saudi Arabia, pupils are taught Islam according to the perception and interpretation of the Wahhabis” (2009.)
It seems clear that everyday life in Saudi Arabia is significantly affected by intolerance of those who are not Sunni Musims and also by the conflation of religion and law, by suspicion and disapproval of modern technology and media and by a significant lack of equal rights for women. I have shown that all of these have been argued to be the result of the teachings of Muhammad ibn Abd al-Wahhab. However, with the possible exception of intolerance towards doctrinal or religious differences, it is not entirely clear that the Sheikh’s writings directly influenced any of them and other analyses foregrounding the influences of different political, cultural and tribal influences can and have been made.
               



Bibliography
Ahmed. A. (2007) Journey into Islam: The Crisis of Globalisation. (Kindle Edition) Washington DC. Brookings Institution Press. Available at: Amazon.com.
al-Ahmed. A. (No date) Interview with PBS. ‘Analysis: Wahhabism.’ (Online)  Available at: http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/shows/saudi/analyses/wahhabism.html (Accessed 4th March 2014)
Armstrong. K. (2000) Islam: A Short History. London. Weidenfield and Nicolson.
DeLong-Bas. N  (2004) Wahhabi Islam : From Revival and Reform to Global Jihad. Oxford University Press. 
Memri.Org. (2010) ‘Saudi Prince Salman: The Term 'Wahhabi' Was Coined by Saudi Arabia's Enemies.’  (Online) Available at: http://www.memri.org/report/en/print4156.htm (Accessed 13th Feb 2014)
Esposito. J. (1988) Islam: The Straight Path. Oxford. Oxford University Press.
Al-Hajj.M (2009) ‘With Wahhabism as State Religion, There's No Chance of Reform for Saudi Schools.’(Online) Available at: http://www.memri.org/report/en/print3675.htm (Accessed 14th Feb 2014)
Idris.J (2012)  ‘The Islamic Fundamentalism of the Wahhabi Movement’ Islam Daily (Online) Available at: http://www.islamdaily.org/en/wahabism/11492.article.htm (Accessed 2nd March 2014)
Ismail. R.  (2012) ‘The Saudi Ulema and the Shi'a of Saudi Arabia.’  Journal Of Shi'a Islamic Studies [Online]. 5(4):403-422. Available from: Academic Search Complete. ( Accessed Feb 19 2014)
Kechichian. J. (1986) ‘The Role of the Ulama in the Politics of an Islamic State: The Case of Saudi Arabia’ International Journal of Middle East Studies,  18 (1)  53-71. JSTOR  Available at: http://www.jstor.org/stable/162860 . (Accessed: 15/02/2014)
Laalaj. H. (2013) ‘Women’s Rights in Saudi Arabia: Wahhabism vs. Islam.’ Morocco World News. April 17th 2013 (Online) Available at: http://www.moroccoworldnews.com/2013/04/87234/womens-rights-in-saudi-arabia-wahhabism-vs-islam/?print=print (Accessed 19th Feb 2014)
Ochsenwald. W. (1981) ‘Saudi Arabia and The Islamic Revival’ International Journal of Middle East Studies 13(3)  271-286 JSTOR. Available at: http://www.jstor.org/stable/162837  (Accessed: 19/03/2014)
Al-Wahhab.   Kitaab At-Tawheed  (Online) Available at: http://abdurrahman.org/tawheed/KTwahab/beliefs/creed/abdulwahab/frame.html (Accessed 12th March 2014)
Yamani. M. (No date) Interview with PBS. ‘Analysis: Wahhabism.’ (Online)  Available at: http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/shows/saudi/analyses/wahhabism.html (Accessed 4tMarch 2014)




[1] See Oschenwald 1981 and Kechichian 1986

Wednesday 26 August 2015

Why Lecturers in History and Literature Should Not Discourage Reading.

Any lecturer in history or literature reading this title will probably feel quite sure he or she does not do this. However, if you have ever said any of the following except to a student concerned about how much to read , you have. Please consider not doing so any more.

  • You really don't need this depth of research at this level.
  • You really don't need this depth of research for an essay of this length.
  • You don't need to read quite so widely for this module.
  • You don't need to read everything ever written on a subject before addressing it
  • Your research is already more than adequate.
  • Remember you're researching for an essay, not an PhD. 
  • I think you should stop researching and start writing now (unless time is becoming short.)
These statements are perfectly reasonable for any lecturer with a student worried about the level of research needed for a certain module or paper. My objection is when this is given as unsolicited advice on the assumption that this is all any of us are concerned about. It says to me:

"I don't find my own subject very interesting and don't understand why anyone else would."
I am sure this is unjust. Any academic who has decided to devote their life to the study of a particular subject must find it interesting, must want to read everything they can about it, and read it with great pleasure. Why then, is it so difficult for some to understand that their students might feel the same way? What kind of argument against reading is 'you don't need to.'  No-one needs to read about history or literature at all. The cure for cancer will probably be found by someone who has no idea how the Black Death impacted drama of the fourteenth century. We read about such things because they're interesting and add to our understanding of history and humanity.  Why, then,  have I felt the need to apologise & justify my interest in a subject I'm spending considerable sums of money to study at a post-graduate level to the very people who ought to understand it perfectly?

Yes, of course this is about me. All of those statements have been said to me more than once by multiple lecturers. It has led me to mumble apologetically that I have a lot of free time, and self-deprecatingly diagnose myself with OCD. Why is this necessary? Of course, there are some good reasons for advising a student to limit their reading but if you mean:

  • Your use of critical sources is overwhelming your own analysis.
  • You are running out of time to actually write the paper.
  • I'm interested in your own first impressions. (I'm not sure this is ever the case)
surely its much more helpful to say that explicitly? 

My own experience is that these have never been subtexts.  The more I research, the better my grades are. Grades are not the problem yet I am constantly being 'reassured' that I don't need to read so much. Well, thank you, and I'm sure you mean well, and that this has reassured many anxious students but you're actually wet-blanketting all over my enjoyment of your subject.
     
I think the best thing to do for any enthusiastic student feeling frustrated by this attitude (and I confess I have only met two in addition to me) is resist the temptation to be apologetic or defensive about it. If a lecturer informs you that you don't 'need' to do the research you're thoroughly enjoying doing, smile pleasantly and say:

 'I find history/literature interesting.' 

Wednesday 12 August 2015

The Significance of the Traveller in Amin Maalouf's Leo, the African: Self, Other and Identity in the Early Modern Mediterranean.



The Mediterranean Sea is one which ‘separates and links at the same time…a sea that knows the pleasure of leaving but also that of returning’ (Cassano 2008 p370.) This internal sea has facilitated travel between three continents for millennia, and the ‘traveller’ features largely in the history and mythology of the Mediterranean world. Arguably, the greatest of these are Moses, Odysseus and Alexander the Great whose stories all involve conflict, encounters with different cultures and centrally, an important journey. 
In Leo the African, Amin Maalouf portrays the early modern Mediterranean world through the travels of the merchant and diplomat, Hassan Ibn Muhammad al Wazzan al Fasi. It will be argued that three types of people who travel are represented in the novel and can be related to the three great Mediterranean figures. The refugees in Leo the African, like Moses, are focused on a single identity centred on one land. The conquerors or would-be conquerors, like Alexander, have the sole aim of imposing their power and identity on others.  I will argue that Hasan is neither of these types but an essential traveller, shrewd and articulate, who overcomes adversity through diplomacy and dissimilation much more like Odysseus. Using the theories of self discussed by Maalouf in On Identity (2000) and Franco Cassano in ’Mediterranean Thinking’ (2008,) I shall explore the notion of the traveller as one who embraces and makes use of plurality, hybridity and diversity. 

 Maalouf’s novel begins with the fall of Granada in 1492 in which Islam lost its last foothold in Europe. Catholic Spain called this victory a ‘reconquest’ of Christian land but Henry Kamen demonstrates that, of all Europe, Spain had been the most ‘profoundly Muslim,’  and for nearly eight hundred years  (2007 p53.) Granada’s fall led to great multitudes of Jewish and Muslim exiles fleeing forced conversion and persecution.  The family of Leo Africanus (as I shall call the historical personage) was amongst them. Bernadette Andrea describes him as ‘The prototypical liminal subject on the borders of Arabic and Italian, Islam and Christianity, Africa and Europe’(1999 p16.) 
Chambers asserts that ‘The polylinguistic and polycultural composition of the Mediterranean encourages a reshuffling of the usual cards of national belonging and partisanship’ (2008 p32.)  In ‘On Identity’ Maalouf argues that identity and self is formed from each individual’s unique mix of religious, social and cultural allegiances but that we frequently ascribe collective qualities to others (2000.p18.) This way of looking at people ‘imprisons them within their own narrowest allegiances’ (p19.) Maalouf argues that we also confine ourselves to one aspect of identity when we feel that part is threatened (12.)
We see this in ‘The Book of Granada.’  When Muslim Salma, Christian Warda and Jewish Sarah bond over the female business of pregnancy their collective identity at this time is ‘subordinated woman’ and the ‘other’ is ‘patriarchal man.’ Sarah says “For us, the women of Granada, freedom is a deceitful form of bondage, and slavery a subtle form of freedom” (1988 p6.) Together they are able to temporarily deny Muhammad sexual access to Salma and Warda.  However, when the persecution of the Jews begins, Salma recalls Sarah’s shouting ‘“Do you think that such a fate could befall your people here in Granada?” She gave me a look which seemed full of hatred’ (p50.) Now Sarah is a Jew, Salma a temporarily privileged Muslim and Christian Castile is the dangerous ‘other.’
In the Exodus story, central to all three religions in the novel, ‘self’ is clearly defined as one people and ‘other’ is anyone else. God tells Moses ‘(O)ut of all nations you will be my treasured possession ‘(19:5.)  Be careful not to make a treaty with those who live in the land where you are going, or they will be a snare among you’ (34:12.) We see this separatism in the Granadan exiles. A diaspora community lives in Fez and assimilation is not an aim.  ‘On the left is the quarter of the Andalusians, founded centuries ago by emigrants from Cordoba’ (p82. My emphasis.) It is significant that, to Moses, the Mediterranean Sea serves as a border to the Promised Land and is described as the ‘utmost sea’ (Deuteronomy 34:2) The sea is the limit beyond which is nothing of concern. Cassano describes a mentality he calls ‘fundamentalism of the land’ which ‘chains men and women… shreds their individualisation and prevents them from taking the road of the sea, from leaving, from encountering other worlds’ (2008 p370.)  Hasan’s respected traveller uncle says ‘The only reason for their existence is the thought that soon… they will find their house once again… all intact, unaltered… They live like this, they will die like this, and their sons will do so after them (p122.)
However, for Hasan, ‘the discovery of Fez was just beginning. We would uncover its layers veil by veil, like a bride in her marriage chamber ‘(p109.) This imagery highlights the fact that the Mediterranean traveller is male. Hasan’s first journey coincides with what is implied to be his first sexual experience and with a slave girl. This mastery of travel and women combines in a ‘coming of age.’ ‘I had left Fez in my uncle’s baggage train, with no other function than to follow him, listen to him and learn… I returned that year in charge of an unaccomplished mission…and the most beautiful woman’(p166.)
 Hasan has sexual relationships with four very different women in the novel and in this he is like Odysseus.  Links can be made between Fatima and Nausicaa the virgins confronted by alien male sexuality and also between Hiba and Calypso the seductresses whose own desires are ambiguous.  Nur, like Circe, is depicted as emasculating, dangerous and powerful and perhaps the fact that she was the only woman who chose to enter a relationship with Hasan is part of the threat she presents.   Maddalena like Penelope, is an object of male desire and a symbol of homecoming.  ‘Her hair had that deep blackness which only Andalus can distil… her breathing was familiar to me (p303.)
Women are also seen to be victims of the conquerors’ assertion of dominance over the conquered ‘others’ in the novel. The Ottomans ‘gave themselves over to pillage and rape’ (p265) and ‘Nuns were raped on the alters...before being strangled by laughing Lansquenets’ (p350.) It is significant that ‘rape’ is so often paired with ‘pillage’ – the forcible theft of property - and that there is particular outrage at the rape of nuns who literally ‘belonged’ to the patriarchal Catholic Church. It suggests that the pain, terror and violation felt by women is less meaningful than the insult to their rightful male owners. 
 Plutarch, writing four hundred years after the death of Alexander the Great, claims that Alexander himself did not participate in the rapes committed by his armies, though his abstinence was not due to empathy. ‘The pleasures of the body had little hold upon him… sleep and sexual intercourse …made him conscious that he was mortal… he did not covet pleasure, nor even wealth, but excellence and fame… and wars and ambitions’ (4: 4-6) Alexander was motivated by a single ideal, that of his own glory and even divinity.
Numerous characters in Leo the African are shown to share Alexander’s disdain for material comforts or worldly pleasures and to be solely motivated by glory or idealism. These include the ‘gaunt’ Astaghferullah (138), ‘bony’ Hans (292), Adrian who ‘wants to make a perpetual fast out of life (307)’ and the battle-worn and ragged Tumanbay and Barbarossa.  The 'slim-waisted' Nur, significantly referred to mostly by her defining identity ‘the Circassian,’ is solely focused upon restoring her husband’s dynasty to her son . When Hasan deplores the eight thousand deaths resulting from Tumanbay’s rebellion she says ‘Are not four days of courage, four days of dignity, of defiance, worth more than four centuries of submission?’(p270.) Hasan’s later capitulation to Pope Leo suggests he thinks not. When  Nur asks Hasan ‘What substance are you made of that you accept the loss of one town after another, one homeland after another… without ever fighting… without ever looking back? Hasan replies ‘I go nowhere, I desire nothing, I cling to nothing, I have faith in my passion for living, in my instinct to search for happiness’ (p259.)
 We see most clearly in what Hasan calls Nur’s ‘relentless obsession’ (p259) the ‘fundamentalism of the land’ as it applies to ‘self’ and ‘other.’ This form of fundamentalism ‘does not know shades and complexities; it divides humanity into faithful ones and traitors’ (Cassano p370.)  Hasan resists being tied to any single identity or place but relishes shades and complexities. He delights in his mixed identity - ‘a Maghribi, dressed in the Egyptian style, married to a Circassian woman, the widow of an Ottoman amir, and who decorated his house like a Christian ‘(p261!) He describes having an ‘overwhelming urge’ (230) to dress in the fashion of whichever country he is in and relates a ‘great sense of well-being’ at becoming a ‘real Cairene notable’ (p230.) Travel represents freedom to him. A caravan he says  ‘ is a village, with its stories, jokes, nicknames, intrigues, conflicts, reconciliations, nights of singing and poetry, a village for which all lands are far away, even the land one comes from, or the land one is crossing. I badly needed such distance’ (p150.)
Maalouf argues that ‘those who cannot accept their own diversity may be among the most virulent of those prepared to kill for the sake of identity’(2000 p31.) Those who accept their mixed and multiple allegiances, he says, have a ‘special role to act as bridges, go betweens, mediators between the various communities and cultures’ (p6.) Bernadette Andrea writes of the complexity of identity apparent in the writing of the diplomat Leo Africanus’  describing his‘amphibian-like agency and multiple conversions’’(9.)  She and Zemon Davis see significance in a parable told by Africanus about a bird named Amphibia who would claim to be a camel when taxes were demanded of birds and a bird when taxes were demanded of camels! Africanus says ‘I will do likewise’ and describes foregrounding his Granadan birth or African upbringing depending on public opinion to either nationality (In Zemon Davis 2007 p110.)
The fictional Hasan is portrayed as a skilled diplomat and in this, he is like Odysseus who excels in his role as ambassador for the Atreidae.  Hasan finds himself speaking for the Ottomans, the Circassians and the Medici papacy in this novel. Homer describes Oddyseus as ‘a man of twists and turns’ (1:1) and says ‘resourceful Odysseus … grew up… to know every manner of shiftiness and crafty counsels’ (3:200-3.) Hasan profits financially from the threatened attack on Tafza at the same time as negotiating peace there (p189-91,) and frequently uses his familiarity with different cultures to avoid danger. Top of Form Bottom of FormI was well aware of the strange morals of these nomads. They would kill a believer without a moment’s hesitation …but an appeal to their generosity was sufficient to transform them into considerate and attentive hosts ‘(p210.)
Hasan perceives similarities and unities more than difference. He can approve of Luther’s views on matters such as icons, celibacy and scriptural adherence because ‘certain of them …  brought back to my memory a hadith of the Prophet Muhammad’(292) but his primary loyalty is always to those who have shown him kindness. ‘In spite of these similarities, I could not give my support to someone unknown to me at the expense of the man who had taken me under his wing.’ (p292).  He is defined primarily by his humanism.
When Hasan says of Adrian ‘May God curse him and all religious fanatics,’ (p308) he articulates the dislike of extremism expressed throughout the novel. In Leo the African members of several races, religions and nationalities define ‘self’ in relation to one aspect of identity and ‘other’ as everyone else. Maalouf  portrays mass murder and horrific cruelties perpetrated or justified by conquering armies and fanatical individuals upon those whom they consider ‘other’ for a variety of religious, dynastic or geographical reasons. However, the traveller who explores and adapts and embraces diversity and plurality of identity is shown to thrive, survive, grow and prosper. Hasan, like Odysseus, adapts and learns and uses his understanding to form relationships and escape danger. In this he represents Maalouf’s argument against the concept of an ‘essence’ of self or single affiliation ‘deep down inside’ (2000 p4.) Instead, Maalouf argues, the individual is the product of his ‘whole journey through time as a free agent, the beliefs he acquires in the course of that journey (and) his own individual tastes, sensibilities and affinities’ (2000 p4.) 





Bibliography.

Andrea. B. (1999)‘Assimilation or Dissimulation? Leo Africanus’s  The Geographical History of Africa; or, the Parable of ‘Amphibia.’’ Renaissance Society of America.  Available at: http://ariel.synergiesprairies.ca (Accessed 1st March 2013)
Cassano.F. (2008) ‘Mediterranean Thinking.’ In Cooke. M. et al (eds) Mediterranean Passages. University of North Carolina Press.
Chambers. I. (2008) Mediterranean Crossings: The Politics of an Interrupted Modernity. Duke University Press.
Deuteronomy, 34.       King James Bible.
Exodus, 19 – 34.          King James Bible.
Homer (c.750-700 BC)The Odyssey. Translated by Alexander Pope. Reprint 1725.  (Kindle edition.) Available from Amazon.co.uk.
Kamen. H. (2007) The Disinherited: Exile and the Making of Spanish Culture – 1492- 1975. HarperCollins Publishers. New York.
Maalouf. A. (1988) Leo the African.  Translated by Peter Sluglett. Hachette Digital. London.
Maalouf. A. (2000) On Identity. Translated by Barbara Bray. Harville Press. London.
Plutarch  (c 75 AD) Plutarch's Lives.  Translated by Bernadotte Perrin. Reprint.  London. William Heinemann Ltd. 1919. Perseus Digital Library. [ Online] Available at http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=Perseus%3Atext%3A1999.01.0243%3Achapter%3D1%3Asection%3D

Zemon Davis. N. (2007.) Trickster Travels: The Search for Leo Africanus. Faber and Faber Limited. London.