Pathways for Mutual Respect Interactive

When people feel their values threatened in ambiguous situations (as intercultural interactions are with few exceptions), they often tend to assert these values more aggressively in their behavior. The aggressive assertion of one’s values, and the attempt to impose them upon another through argument, persuasion or force signals to me not a firm commitment to said values, but rather a lack of such commitment. How can values we are truly committed to, that is, ones we genuinely believe in, be threatened by interacting with others, even if they do not share these values? My exposure to and exploration of other cultures has absolutely not diluted my values or eroded my identity. On the contrary, I feel that it has strengthened my commitment to certain values by making me less defensive about them and more willing to think critically about the foundation they are built on. From my perspective, this process is by no means one of identity erosion, but rather one of identity enrichment.

Yet there persists all around us a fear and aversion to the notion of cultural relativism, a term that to many connotes moral relativism or even nihilism. This fear is often expressed through the belief that venturing too far outside our respective identity groups will lead to a “watering down” of values and beliefs that will spell the certain demise of our civilization. It is my opinion that this impending doom brought on by cultural relativism, and perhaps even the possibility of cultural relativism existing at all, is a chimera. This entry as well as my next explores this mythology of intercultural resistance, which I perceive as nothing more than a convenient defense mechanism and a barrier to interpersonal connectivity.

From my experience, intercultural experience does not necessarily entail any fundamental change in values, although it can facilitate change of a certain nature. That is to say, it has the potential to clarify and enhance our existing values – but only if we voluntarily embrace this process. Nothing is compulsory here; as adults we do not passively absorb our beliefs and principles through a process of osmosis the way we imagine children do (and even this is debatable, in my opinion). The intercultural experience certainly does not lead to any “watering down” of values or identity. I believe this kind of phenomenon is more likely to be caused by cultural isolation and rigidity brought on by fear of difference. Any identity rooted in the fear of engagement with difference is likely to be brittle, maladaptive to changing circumstances, and therefore prone to decay. Furthermore, the aggressive assertion of ones values is likely to contradict and undermine the very values being defended. My next entry will expand on this topic and give an example of how a value can negate itself when pushed to its extreme. I will also suggest a potential reconceptualization of what constitutes true commitment.

Lately I have become addicted to language learning podcasts, two of my favourites being Coffee Break French and Coffee Break Spanish, which offer dozens of lessons in 15 minute installments (short enough to enjoy with a cup of coffee). I find these are a great way to learn because podcasts offer much more flexible and self-driven learning than a rigid classroom environment. Also, the simple conversational approach is more engaging than many other “teach yourself” kinds of programs. Unfortunately, there is no Coffee Break Farsi, and I have been browsing the net for good Farsi resources with little luck.

Until I manage to find a good systematic and regularly updated podcast for learning Farsi, I will post piecemeal audio or video files that may be helpful for those of us looking to familiarize ourselves with the sound of Farsi and some of its basic words and phrases. I have included one such example in this post, which you can hear by clicking the link below. The English speaker will say the phrase he wants translated in English and the Farsi speaker then repeats the phrase in Farsi.

A little taste of Farsi…

In the last edition of the Common Ground News Service newsletter, Marzuq Halabi proposes a language of “reconciliation” as opposed to a language of “solutions” to resolve the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.  Halabi describes how the language of “solutions”  in past attempts to resolve the conflict failed to recognize the “history, ideology, morality and self-preservation” of both Jews and Palestinians and therefore could not speak to the heart of the conflict.

Halabi cites the Oslo Accords as a failure because the agreements did nothing to articulate the real and implicit values of the conflict.   By favoring considerations for Israeli security, the Accords continued to uphold the structures of oppression.

I agree with Halabi that the Oslo Accords and the current language of a “two-state solution” fails miserably on the ground when it comes up against such intractable realities as the Second Intifada and the latest war in Gaza.  Both sides of the conflict scream for recognition of their legitimate concerns, but how can they hear one another when the language of dialogue fails to speak a language both can understand and agree upon?  Halabi states that the only language that can be recognized across the borders is one that addresses both Palestinian and Jewish values, beginning with writing the history of the land “from a common script.”

My question concerns how this kind of dialogue can tangibly begin and work its way up to the state level?

You can read Marzuq Halabi’s full article here.

The picture below was taken in the Old City, Jerusalem, with the Dome of the Rock in the background.

A friend shared this TED Talk from Chimamanda Adichie with me and I was deeply moved by some of the ideas the speaker discussed. While I would like to let the video speak for itself, I encourage viewers to consider the potential impact that a single, homogeneous narrative of Islam and the “Islamic world” (originating in Western literature and perpetuated through mass-media discourse) has had in shaping our attitudes and perceptions of the many heterogeneous cultures and traditions encompassed within Islam. I hope that this video will provide a springboard for fruitful discussion on this topic. Enjoy!

Check out our new book analysis on Hidden Iran, courtesy of Senior Intern Ian.  It’s a good intro to Iranian history and politics.  So if you’ve been hearing a lot about Iran in the news lately, but aren’t aware of a lot of the background, pick up a copy from Amazon here.

This week’s entry is from John, our Director here at Pathways.  He’s been thinking lately about what the goal behind all our efforts to get this blog rolling is.

It is sometimes intimidating to put our thoughts down on paper.  The process somehow provides accountability.  Writing confronts us with our own thought.  If we are particularly courageous, it may also give others the opportunity to critique our thinking.  Perhaps that is part of the reason it has taken me so long to write this blog entry.  It seems easier for me to hold opinions and to even talk about them than to engrave them in the electronic archive that is the internet for all who are interested to read… and potentially criticize.

At the same time, speaking the truth of my heart and mind is critical to the ability of others to actually understand me.  The most sympathetic and open-minded listener will have great difficulty understanding and respecting me if I do not dare to speak (or write) what I really think, an expression of who I actually am – even if ironic or illusory.  Who I am, of course, is not limited to the words I utter and some would argue that I cannot be truly confident that there is one “real” me.  Nonetheless, I would not expect somebody to meaningfully understand me based on a single interaction, an experience of me or my thought at one given moment in time.  So, if I don’t speak often or give people wide opportunities to experience me, how could I expect them to understand me?  If I don’t give others opportunity to understand me, do I have the right to demand that they respect me?

Come to think of it, it would seem simple for me to guard myself from critique by retreating into a sort of conflict.  I might merely ensconce myself in the exaggerated reality of not being understood … and by the inherent limitations on such comprehension.  Why speak if I will never be understood?  Why speak if those listening have no interest in really understanding?  Why speak if they don’t respect me?  I mean, how could they really understand me if they don’t first respect me so as to hear that which I am actually seeking to communicate?  Or is respect actually necessary for such understanding?

The blog at PFMRinteract is a forum for authentic and substantive communication.  Its themes follow the values and substantive focus of PFMR (www.pfmr.org).  We invite people to step out in what Adam Kahane has called talking openly, a “speaking up” which empowers us to see problems more clearly and to understand them from multiple perspectives (Kahane, Solving Tough Problems).  The counterpart to speaking, of course, is listening.  To benefit from others speaking up we need to listen openly. PFMRinteract is about creating a space where open speaking and listening happens.  Perhaps one could say that the starting place is mutual respect, the pathway is communication and collaboration, and the destination is increased trust and understanding.

I invite you to join us on this pathway.  You may find that it takes new courage, thought, or effort to contribute meaningfully to our conversation.  I would argue that it is worth it.  Your voice matters… in more ways than one.