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Allah for Christians in Malaysia

October 26, 2013

Yesterday, The Malaysian Insider continued to publish strong and public responses to news earlier this month that a “Malaysian appeals court has upheld a government ban against the use of the word ‘Allah’ to refer to God in non-Muslim faiths, overruling claims by Christians in this Muslim-majority nation that the restriction violates their religious rights.”

For instance, Bob Teoh writing in English to convey a conversation he had had with a Christian pastor in Kuching – presumably in English – talks in terms of war. The pastor and even Teoh himself are alluding to passages from the Hebrew Bible, in English translation. The Christian leader in Kuching paraphrases, saying:

Brother, the battle belongs to the Lord. The enemies are all confused now.

Although Teoh doesn’t explain to his English readers of The Malaysian Insider, the pastor is making a clear reference to 2 Chronicles 20:15 –

Listen, all you people of Judah and Jerusalem! Listen, King Jehoshaphat! This is what the Lord says: Do not be afraid! Don’t be discouraged by this mighty army, for the battle is not yours, but God’s.

I’ve quoted the Bible directly from the New Living Translation in English. I’ve done that here because it’s what Teoh does in his post, “Allah, lost in translation.” Toeh goes on to elaborate his points about biblical “war” by quoting the following way:

The world may rely on Sun Tzu’s “Art of War” but the Bible actually has its own principles for going to war.

One of it is found in the fifth book by Moses (Musa in the Quran) in the Christian Old Testament or the Jewish Bible:

Regulations concerning War

“When you go out to fight your enemies and you face horses and chariots and an army greater than your own, do not be afraid. The Lord your God, who brought you out of (captivity from) the land of Egypt, is with you! For the Lord your God is going with you! He will fight for you against your enemies, and he will give you victory!” (Deuteronomy 20:1,4 New Living Translation).

What Teoh does not do is to use Malaysian. He, of course, could have quoted from a translation of the Bible into Malay or into Indonesian which Malay readers understand. And then readers of The Malaysian Insider would read of Allah there. For example, from a Christian Bible (Old Testament) online, one may read the above two passages as follows:

2Tawarikh 20

15. dan berseru: “Camkanlah, hai seluruh Yehuda dan penduduk Yerusalem dan tuanku raja Yosafat, beginilah firman TUHAN kepadamu: Janganlah kamu takut dan terkejut karena laskar yang besar ini, sebab bukan kamu yang akan berperang melainkan Allah.

and

Ulangan 20

1. “Apabila engkau keluar berperang melawan musuhmu, dan engkau melihat kuda dan kereta, yakni tentara yang lebih banyak dari padamu, maka janganlah engkau takut kepadanya, sebab TUHAN, Allahmu, yang telah menuntun engkau keluar dari tanah Mesir, menyertai engkau.

4. sebab TUHAN, Allahmu, Dialah yang berjalan menyertai kamu untuk berperang bagimu melawan musuhmu, dengan maksud memberikan kemenangan kepadamu.

Most Malaysian readers of English would be well aware of how their Bibles in Malay already include Allah as one of the references to God in the Malaysian language.

The allusion to God is not restricted to the Christian Old Testament but is also found in the New Testament. Thus, another writer for The Malaysian Insider, Rama Ramanathan, quotes the Lord’s Prayer, in English first and then in Malay:

“Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our sins, as we also have forgiven those who sinned against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen.”

“Ya Bapa kami yang di syurga, Engkaulah Allah yang Esa, semoga Engkau disembah dan dihormati. Engkaulah Raja kami. Semoga Engkau memerintah di bumi, dan seperti di syurga, kehendakMu ditaati. Berilah kami makanan yang kami perlukan pada hari ini. Ampunkanlah kesalahan kami, seperti kami mengampuni orang yang bersalah terhadap kami. Janganlah biarkan kami kehilangan iman ketika dicubai, tetapi selamatkanlah kami daripada kuasa si Jahat. Engkaulah Raja yang berkuasa dan mulia untuk selama-lamanya. Amin.”

Also quoted are a number of allusions to Allah in Christian liturgies in Malaysia. Ramanathan’s post is entitled “Allah judgment: What the Special Branch saw on Sunday,” and you can read it here.

BLT readers might be interested, likewise, in seeing the tradition of using Allah in Indonesia by the Christian minority, whose language is very very similar to Malaysian. Here’s a site that compares various translations of numerous popular passages:

http://sejarah.co/bagan/perbandingan_ayat_alkitab_bahasa_indonesia.htm

Chicago Opera Theater’s censored version of Giovanna d’Arco

October 23, 2013

I am off to a super-slow start on my problematic composers series (Britten, Verdi, Wagner), but to illustrate some of the tensions, I wanted to point to Garry Wills’s insightful post at the New York Review of Books blog on Chicago Opera Theater’s using censored texts to present Verdi’s Giovanna d’Arco (Joan of Arc).  (NB:  I did not see this production).

Note that the Chicago Opera Theater was putatively basing its performance on the absolutely stunning new Verdi edition published by University of Chicago, but as Wills describes it, did not seem to have read it very carefully.

Like all of Verdi’s early operas, the seventh one, Giovanna d’Arco (Joan of Arc) (1845), has been revived and given multiple recordings in recent years. In this bicentennial year of Verdi’s birth, it has been performed in Salzburg with Placido Domingo in one of his new baritone roles as Giovanna’s father. On September 21, the Chicago Opera Theater presented what it billed as the first performance from the new scholarly edition in the great University of Chicago Verdi series, this one edited by Alberto Rizzuti. In recent decades, this once-popular opera has been newly appreciated.

Yet there is no denying that the work tugs against some of a modern audience’s values. When, for instance, Giovanna is accused of witchcraft, she is unable to deny it because she has fallen in love with the Dauphin she is striving to make King. Why does she feel that a love for an unmarried Christian man, one not even sexually satisfied, must paralyze her with guilt?

Schiller’s play, Die Jungfrau von Orleans (1801), which gave Temistocle Solera, Verdi’s librettist, much of his material, is more convincing on this point. Schiller’s Johanna falls in love with a soldier in the English army she is fighting. This adds an element of betrayal to her country, and explains her guilt. His Johanna purifies herself from this lapse into love for the enemy and goes on to die fighting for her cause.

What then are we to make of Verdi’s Giovanna, guilty merely of feeling love for her fellow leader in the good cause? The Chicago Opera Theater director, David Schweizer, decided that the only way to be convincing about such an obsession with sexual purity is to make the opera show “the perpetual heart-rending consequences of religious fanaticism.” So he frames the opera as one presented by a group of American evangelicals. When we entered Chicago’s Harris Theater, earnest young religious types passed out fliers thanking us for joining their meeting. Then we saw the meeting begin onstage, the cultists assembling under their pastor, who will play Giovanna’s faith-healing father, Giacomo, in the opera. The cultists, who have come with folding chairs, sit on them during Verdi’s orchestral prelude, watching clips from the 1948 Victor Fleming movie, with Ingrid Bergman as Joan. The evangelicals make ecstatic mourning gestures as Joan is seen burning at the stake, but cheering ones as she goes into battle with shining armor.

At a University of Chicago symposium before the production, David Schweizer was asked why he chose Fleming’s over other films about Joan (by Dreyer or Bresson, for instance). He answered that he wanted to show the shallowest and “most Hollywood” images he could find. The film is geared to the fanatics’ capacities. The way Schweizer was stacking the deck came out in the symposium when Philip Gossett, the eminent editor in chief of the Verdi editions, asked a question. The Joan of the production, soprano Suzan Hanson, had just sung (to piano accompaniment) her early prayer for armor. Gossett, following along with the new score, noted that she sang the version that had been censored for Austrian audiences in the nineteenth century, which omitted the person being prayed to, though Verdi’s original text, just re-edited, names “Vergin Maria.” Why desert the new text now that they have it and claim to be presenting it?

The conductor of the Chicago production, Francesco Milioto, said they kept the old text because they are depicting Fundamentalist fanatics who do not pray to the Virgin Mary. He said he was not mocking real (non-fundamentalist) religion. “Our reason is not the same as the Austrians. We’re not shying away from religion—and neither were the Austrians.” But the Austrians were, in fact, shying away from what they considered an illegitimate use of religion, as Maestro Milioto could have learned from the new edition. It cites an important article by the scholar of nineteenth-century opera Francesco Izzo, showing that Solera and Verdi made unusual use of Mary in the brief time (the 1840s) when she was seen as a Risorgimento patroness of liberty—like an Italian version of the French Marianne.

The Church of Pius IX was in collaboration with the Austrians, and it was shocked that “their” meek and mild Virgin could be glimpsed on the other side of the barricades. This was made strikingly clear when, during the brief liberation of Milan in 1848, three years after Verdi’s opera, the radical Princess Cristina Belgioioso (a friend to Verdi’s circle) led 160 troops into Milan. She was costumed, at the head of her little army, as Joan of Arc. Marianne, indeed! (The Chicago company’s program lists ten women in history who wore armor with the troops, but does not mention the most relevant—Princess Belgioioso.)

These are not matters incidental to the opera. Verdi’s Joan does not stay virgin because she feels that all sex is sin, but because she is the living representative of the Virgin. That is why she can redeem herself by rededication to her mission, and die, as in Schiller’s play, gloriously fighting for the cause. Neither in Schiller nor in Verdi is she a victim burned at the stake. But Schweizer’s production, responding perhaps to its own shallow clue given by Ingrid Bergman, gives her a quasi-incineration. In both play and opera, she is imprisoned with chains after being captured by the English. Here the cultists lift her onto a stake and stack their folding chairs as to form the pyre under her. Yet her pastor-father hears her praying to the true God and brings her down from the stake by a miracle (this pastor was earlier seen faith-healing English soldiers).

The Virgin Mary does show up in this staging, but not as an object of Giovanna’s devotion. When the Dauphin has a vision of the place where he can give up his armor, it is at a shrine to Mary. Here the kitchiest kind of Marian image pops up, with lots of candles burning in front of it as in a Catholic church. This is a Mary of the Fundamentalists’ horror, doing the devil’s work. No wonder her father concludes from the shrine that she is leagued with hell, and tells both the French and the English that she should die. But once convinced that she is praying to the proper God, on her pyre, he sends her back into battle.

She was not allowed to pray to Mary herself, because that is not her infidelity. Sexual desire is. In its grip, she thrashes in the convulsions of diabolical possession. Verdi gave the devils offstage voices, but the Chicago production brings them on as dancing demons (the people in the audience near me tittered). At the final scene, of her death from battle wounds, she is no longer in the guerrilla war garb she wore earlier, but clothed in glittering armor—the same Ingrid Bergman was seen wearing in the prelude. With her restored purity she ascends to a true believers’ heaven, while her cultists turn semi-automatic weapons on the audience, heavy-handedly linking Giovanna to terrorism.

I doubt that Verdi will do much damage to the jihadists of the world. […]. This is another case of Verdi’s music triumphing over a director’s most energetic pretzel-twistings. Verdi always rewards the ears, no matter what tricks are being played on the eyes.

Emily Dickinson archive live

October 23, 2013

The Emily Dickinson archive, containing high-resolution images of Emily Dickinson’s original handwritten manuscripts, is now live. 

Emily Dickinson Archive makes high-resolution images of Dickinson’s surviving manuscripts available in open access, and provides readers with a website through which they can view images of manuscripts held in multiple libraries and archives. This first phase of the EDA includes images for the corpus of poems identified in The Poems of Emily Dickinson: Variorum Edition, edited by R. W. Franklin (Cambridge: Belknap Press of the Harvard University Press, 1998).

PS:  I apply for having been so tardy in replying to many fine comments and posts on this blog.  I am completely swamped with work just now.

The Ψαλμος and Aristotle: Ps. 33(34)

October 19, 2013

When I read Psalm 34 in the Greek (aka the Septuagint’s Psalm 33), I have lots of questions. For example, does the psalmist have a possibly-pregnant female soul? Aristotle would not have gone for that, even if Plato might have.

And does this particular Hellene translation of the Hebrew add any literary sparks and the interpretive spins?

There are at least four peculiar changes from the Semitic text to the Greek:

1. In the very first part, the prelude, where David’s relationship with Abimelech is mentioned, there’s an added emphasis on τὸ πρόσωπον, or “the face,” which the Hebrew does not have. This seems to stress how David acts like God, when he does not favor Abimelech with his face as God does not shame the faces of those who draw near to him (in Hebrew verse 5, which is Greek verse 6: τὰ πρόσωπα ὑμῶν). Likewise, David is turning his face against Abimelech the way the LORD turns his face away from evil and evil doers (in Hebrew verse 16, which in Greek 17 has this: πρόσωπον δὲ κυρίου ἐπὶ ποιοῦντας κακὰ).

2. There’s an odd pause, a διάψαλμα /dia-psalma/, a “strum through” line, usually indicating the Hebrew Selah. This comes after the Greek verse numbered 11, but it’s absent from the original Hebrew or at least the Masoretic Text.

3. What is Greek verse 10 (Hebrew v 9) seems to add a phrase that is gendered. Let me bold it and transliterate it:

φοβήθητε τὸν κύριον, οἱ ἅγιοι αὐτοῦ,
ὅτι οὐκ ἔστιν ὑστέρημα τοῖς φοβουμένοις αὐτόν.

It’s in English letters hysterma.

This makes us recall Aristotle’s explication of the uterus or the womb in his copious notes on animal copulation. He mentions the male penis as the present penetrating organ, and he suggests the female hysteria is the complement, the counterpart, the lack.

What is unusual is that the Hebrew verse 9 does not really require such a Greek construction. And the translator also had other Greek words to choose from. And, as we see in Greek verse 11 (Hebrew 10) there’s ἐλαττωθήσονται / elattothesontai/ which suggests lack and want.

4. Finally, Greek verse 11 removes the young hungry lions from the Hebrew (v 10) and replaces it with πλούσιοι ἐπτώχευσαν καὶ ἐπείνασαν, or “rich people who are poor and hungry.” We may recall that in Aristotle’s writings about lions, he makes this observation: “The lion, while he is eating, is most ferocious; but when he is not hungry and has had a good meal, he is quite gentle.” Is there some sort of motivation by the LXX translator to remove the explicit Hebrew reference to the hungry lions?

To compare the Hebrew and the Greek side by side, with the RSV and the Brenton English translations, you can visit Paul Ingram’s great website Kata Pi which produces this page here.

The only other interesting thing about this Greek translation called Psalm that I want to say is this: It seems to have had some reception in the reading and the writing and editing of Matthew’s gospel. At least, the Greek phrase τοὺς ταπεινοὺς τῷ πνεύματι “the lowly in spirit” seems to be part of Jesus’s beatitudes: οἱ πτωχοὶ τῷ πνεύματι “the poor in spirit.”

Dangerous, Biblical, Quranical Words

October 18, 2013

I’m an Orthodox Jew who is interested in your “living biblical womanhood” project…. My husband is a rabbi and he actually debated a complementarian evangelical once. The guy totally expected him to have him on his side, but he was wrong!
— Ahava, quoted by Rachel Held Evans in A Year of Biblical Womanhood

The germ of the idea [for my year of living biblically] came from my own family: my uncle Gil…, quite possibly the most religious man in the world…. He started his life as a Jew,… turned into a born-again Christian, and, in his latest incarnation, is an ultra-Orthodox Jew in Jerusalem…. At some point along his spiritual path, Gil decided to take the Bible literally. Completely literally.
— A. J. Jacobs, The Year of Living Biblically

That’s not a Marxist talking, it’s a mystic. And a good Muslim, at heart. I believe in the man who spoke those words. He moves me. I’ve never had a personal meeting with him, but I feel a lot in common. Sukarno and I are the same astrological sign, you know. Sometimes I almost feel we share the same identity. I could have been him.
Billy Kwan, in Christopher J. Koch’s novel The Year of Living Dangerously

[“A Year of Living Dangerously” is the title of the public address by Sukarno] the President of the Republic of Indonesia, August 17, 1964, English translation by Antara News Agency, Djakarta, p. 10. The speech was distributed in pamphlet form as a supplement to Harian Rakjat of August 19, 1964. Its Indonesian title is [TAVIP] “Tahun … Vivere Pericoloso,” a slightly ungrammatical reminiscence of Mussolini’s slogan, Vivere Pericolosamente, inspired, in turn, by Nietzsche.
— Guy J. Pauker, footnote 74, “Indonesia: The PKI‘s ‘Road to Power’”

I’m reading a diary of sorts by a blogger named Gul Makai. But let me back up and say that I’ve read this week the post “Will the real complementarian please stand up?” by the blogger Rachel Held Evans. Their writings have to do with the power of words.

The latter in her post, for example, insists “1) complementarianism is not a word.” In writing her book, A Year of Biblical Womanhood: How a Liberated Woman Found Herself Sitting on Her Roof, Covering Her Head, and Calling Her Husband Master, in fact, she decided never [to] use the word “complementarian.” She does use the word biblical.

So does A. J. Jacobs. And when I blog about her book, I also like to mention his, as I’ve done previously here (where the word was a taboo one, the V-word) and here (where a couple of December biblical holiday names were mentioned). At any rate, it’s high time we also acknowledge Christopher Koch’s novel that the title of Jacobs’s book plays off of. I was a high school student living in Jakarta, Indonesia when The Year of Living Dangerously came out. It was, as you may remember, banned by the Indonesian government as it won Australia’s Age Book of the Year Award the same year and the National Book Council Award for Australian Literature the next. Its words were “dangerous” those years in that place especially. I had to find it and read it in Singapore. Some of the back-story of the title Koch chose is some of the dangerous wordplay of the previous Indonesia administration. If you read that forth epigraph above for this blogpost of mine here, and if you follow some of the hyperlinks, then you get just a bit more context. Guy Pauker notes how President Sukarno champions Indonesian communism, Italian fascism, and German philosophy with his Bahasa Indonesia – Italiano / English words. It’s a move made pericolosamente indeed.

So there’s the choice not to use a word. Then there’s the choice to use a word. Words may be dangerous. Who is to say?

There’s a way to read the Bible. There is much to pick out of it and much to choose from it to consider one’s reading biblical. Who is to say?

And, so, now I want to move on to what’s Quranical. Who is to say? And what power! The parallels between the fights over the Bible and the fights over the words of the Quran are striking.

So, what if a woman reads the Quran and effects change, good change, political change, peaceable change? Would that be a Quranical reading?

The blogger I’ve been reading is named Gul Makai. She suggests that some readings of the Quran are better than others.

You may have read her blog too. It’s also in English, on the BBC website, here. The blogger, this reader of the Quran, tells what inspired her, who inspired her, and some how she was inspired, by which words. We notice that it was another diarist, and a folk-story heroine, and indirectly Shakespeare, and more directly a fictional reading of the Quran. The blogger explains how she started using her own words, telling her own story, as another with the name, the chosen pseudonym Gul Makai:

I had never written a diary before and didn’t know how to begin. Although we had a computer, there were frequent power cuts and few places had Internet access. So [news reporter] Hai Kakar would call me in the evening on my mother’s mobile. He used his wife’s phone to protect us, as he said his own phone was bugged by the intelligence services. He would guide me, asking me questions about my day, and asking me to tell him small anecdotes or talk about my dreams. We would speak for half an hour or forty-five minutes in Urdu, even though we are both Pashtun, as the blog was to appear in Urdu and he wanted the voice to be as authentic as possible. Then he wrote up my words and once a week they would appear on the BBC Urdu website. He told me about Anne Frank, a thirteen-year-old Jewish girl who hid from the Nazis with her family in Amsterdam during the war. He told me she kept a diary about their lives all cramped together, about how they spent their days and about her own feelings. It was very sad, as in the end the family was betrayed and arrested and Anne died in a concentration camp when she was only fifteen. Later her diary was published and is a very powerful record.

Hai Kakar told me it could be dangerous to use my real name and gave me the pseudonym Gul Makai, which means “cornflower” and is the name of the heroine in a Pashtun folk story. It’s a kind of Romeo and Juliet story in which Gul Makai and Musa Khan meet at school and fall in love. But they are from different tribes, so their love causes a war. However, unlike Shakespeare’s play their story doesn’t end in tragedy. Gul Makai uses the Quran to teach her elders that war is bad and they eventually stop fighting and allow the lovers to unite.

You may now have recognized that this is from a book recently released. In the book, an autobiography, the author, in parts, tells of the struggles over words, over what’s Quranic, over who can say. She says:

I am proud that our country was created as the world’s first Muslim homeland, but we still don’t agree on what this means. The Quran teaches us sabar— patience— but often it feels that we have forgotten the word and think Islam means women sitting at home in purdah or wearing burqas while men do jihad. We have many strands of Islam in Pakistan. Our founder Jinnah wanted the rights of Muslims in India to be recognized, but the majority of people in India were Hindu. It was as if there were a feud between two brothers and they agreed to live in different houses. So British India was divided in August 1947, and an independent Muslim state was born. It could hardly have been a bloodier beginning. Millions of Muslims crossed from India, and Hindus traveled in the other direction. Almost two million of them were killed trying to cross the new border. Many were slaughtered on trains which arrived at Lahore and Delhi full of bloodied corpses. My own grandfather narrowly escaped death in the riots when his train was attacked by Hindus on his way home from Delhi, where he had been studying. Now we are a country of 180 million and more than 96 percent are Muslim. We also have around two million Christians and more than two million Ahmadis, who say they are Muslims though our government says they are not. Sadly those minority communities are often attacked.

Continuing writing about her own nation, community, and family, she recounts interactions between a Quran “expert” and her own family members. Her father questions his reading.

“I am representing the Ulema and Tablighian and Taliban,” Mullah Ghulamullah said, referring to not just one but two organizations of Muslim scholars to give himself gravitas. “I am representing good Muslims and we all think your girls’ school is haram and a blasphemy. You should close it. Girls should not be going to school,” he continued. “A girl is so sacred she should be in purdah, and so private that there is no lady’s name in the Quran, as God doesn’t want her to be named.” My father could listen no more. “Maryam is mentioned everywhere in the Quran. Was she not a woman and a good woman at that?” “No,” said the mullah. “She is only there to prove that Isa [Jesus] was the son of Maryam, not the son of God!” “That may be,” replied my father. “But I am pointing out that the Quran names Maryam.”

The mufti started to object, but my father had had enough.

Her mother and maternal grandmother show her what living quranically looks like:

I was confused by Fazlullah’s words. In the Holy Quran it is not written that men should go outside and women should work all day in the home. In our Islamic studies class at school we used to write essays entitled “How the Prophet Lived.” We learned that the first wife of the Prophet was a businesswoman called Khadijah. She was forty, fifteen years older than him, and she had been married before, yet he still married her. I also knew from watching my own mother that Pashtun women are very powerful and strong. Her mother, my grandmother, [was her example].

The writer’s story, her blog, her book are powerful. The book in particular is written with a Western audience in mind. Its message is compelling as we readers in the West consider how the Bible and how the Quran and how other literature is read.

If you haven’t already read it, I would heartily recommend I Am Malala: The Girl Who Stood Up for Education and Was Shot by the Taliban by Malala Yousafzai. Let me warn, however, that for an author who was also nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize her words may seem to some certain readers very dangerous.

Grudem recants everything he has said about women

October 17, 2013

Update: Grudem recants everything he has said about women  well almost everything … This makes me cry to think of how so many of us lived without these freedoms and now so easily, poof, all that reasoning is gone. We can now have all of this. A little late for some of us. 

Believe it or not, he really has. In his new book, Poverty of Nations, coauthored by Barry Asmus, Grudem takes a strong position on equality for women. First he lists the freedoms of men,

1. Freedom to own property
2. Freedom to buy and sell
3. Freedom to travel and transport goods anywhere within the nation
[freedoms 4 and 5 are not available in google books.]
6. Freedom to start businesses
7. Freedom from excessive government regulation
8. Freedom from demands for bribes
9. Freedom for a person to work in any job.
10. Freedom for workers to be rewarded for their work
11. Freedom for employers to hire and fire
12.  Freedom for employers to hire and fire employees based on merit
13. Freedom to utilize energy resources
14. Freedom to change and modernize
15. Freedom to access useful knowledge, freedom of information

Then he writes, or Asmus writes,

If a nation truly wants to move from poverty towards greater prosperity, it must ensure that all of the freedoms that we have discussed up to this point in this chapter are available to women as well as to men. page 292

Women must have the above mentioned freedoms available to them as well as to men. But in the past, no women had any freedoms at all that were not given to her by her husband. She only had the freedoms accorded under his leadership. Now a woman has all these freedoms. As someone who lived without most of these freedoms, it is very emotional for me to read this. Of course, I gave up complementation restrictions some time ago, but nonetheless, now complementation women have the freedom to own businesses, to do all that a business entails, to make decisions, to change and modernize, to have access to any education or information they want.

In the past, Grudem summarized complementarian practice as “boys and girls both educated, but different preferences, abilities, and sense of calling respected.” What different abilities?? Oh brother! Grudem also had a list of about 80 things that women could or could not do, all of them things that men could do. Grudem also said that a women as a boss had to nurture men in leadership according to their gender. Women as boss was a little touchy because this emasculated men, so he seemed to say in RBMW, page 43,

The God-given sense of responsibility for leadership in a mature man will not generally allow him to flourish under personal, directive leadership of a female superior.

But here is what Grudem and Asmus write in Poverty of Nations,

Screen Shot 2013-10-17 at 7.50.36 PM

Weird Bibles 7: Tyndale in original pronunciation

October 16, 2013

The British Library has published David Crystal’s recording Tyndale’s translation of St. Matthew’s Gospel.  (I found the cheapest price – about $14 – by ordering from bookdepository.co.uk from a UK proxy).  This goes perfectly with the British Library’s splendid edition of Tyndale’s New Testament in original spelling.  (The British Library edition being in standard type, is much easier to read than the facsimile edition published by Hendrickson.)  (From a review in the Contemporary Review:  “Forget the fourth Harry Potter book, the publishing sensation of this year is the second edition of William Tyndale’s New Testament first published in 1526. This is an original spelling edition edited for the Tyndale Society by W. R. Cooper and published by the British Library. […] It has, astonishingly, in its first week, outsold Joanne Rowling’s Goblet of Fire in the British Library bookshop.)

I’ve written before about David Crystal’s “Original Pronunciation Movement” – and while I have some issues with Crystal’s web business practices, I’m very happy to see this edition – even though it seems to run against the usual raison d’être for audio Bibles:  to make the Bible more accessible to a wider audience.  In contrast, this is an audio Bible as a performance, pronounced in a dialect of English that has not been spoken for centuries.  This work gets us closer to hearing Tyndale’s literary genius as a contemporary might have heard him.

Tyndale was midway between Chaucer’s Middle English and Shakespeare’s Early Modern English.  While it is easy to find recordings of Beowulf or Chaucer or even Shakespeare in original pronunciation (and these are merely exemplary recordings – there are many more available), recordings of Tyndale in original pronunciation are much rarer – this is the only example I am aware of!

Many of our previous “weird Bibles” posts have had at a least a hint of opprobrium about them; but not in this case.  This original pronunciation audio edition is now my favorite recording of the New Testament in English, replacing my previous favorite.

Previous posts:

Weird Bibles 6: A “Sophisticated” Presidential Prayers Bible (plus another with “personal” reflections)
Weird Bibles 5: Jamaican Patois Bible
Weird Bibles 4: Digital Handwritten Bible
Weird Bibles 3: Playful Puppies Bible
Weird Bibles 2: Etymological New Testament

Weird Bibles 1: Archaic Aramaic script
An Orthodox translation

The Iranian Talmud

October 15, 2013

The Book of Doctrines and Opinions recently posted
An Interview with Dr. Shai Secunda about The Iranian Talmud that I thought might be of interest to BLT readers, particularly including the historical review at the beginning of the post:

The contextual study of the Talmud has generally focused on the Greco-Roman historical context. Asher Gulak in the field of Mishpat Ivri compared Roman and Talmudic Law, Boaz Cohen as a Talmudist compared concepts, and historian Shaye Cohen of Harvard situates Rabbinic family law in Roman context. In contrast, Chief Rabbi Herzog rejected the very idea of comparison. However for many, there was a standoff for decades between Erwin R. Goodenough who saw Judaism entirely enculturated in pagan Greco-Roman culture and Saul Lieberman who limited the influence to legal terms. Now, with the turn to cultural studies, Daniel Boyarin and others return the field to situating Rabbinics as part of a Greco-cultural world.

But what of Babylonian influence on the Talmud? Technically, we are speaking of the Sasanian dynasty that took power from the Parthians in 226 CE. It was bureaucratically centered in Mesopotamia which had a majority of Aramaic speakers, including Jews, Christians, and Mandeans, but also a ruling Persian speaking population. Their religion was Zoroastrian. Most scholars of the Talmud only made brief note of the context, leaving the discussion mainly to those in the field of religion.

They either saw Zoroastrian religion as polluting the pure ethics of the prophets or a conduit of perennial wisdom. They attributed much of the worldview unique to the Babylonian Talmud to this influence, including Talmudic magic, sorcery, angelology, demons as well as menstruation and purity laws. They also noted that Adam and Eve in the Bavli reflect the Iranian Mashya (man) and Mashyana, the Iranian Adam (man) and Eve. R. C. Zaehner, a professor of Eastern religions, argues for Zoroastrianism’s direct influence on Jewish eschatological myths, especially the resurrection of the dead with rewards and punishments.

The Hungarian Alexander Kohut, who edited and vastly expanded the classic 11th-century talmudic dictionary, the Arukh, and filled it with Persian etymologies, and was fascinated by the world of Zoroastrian angelology and demonology, charted many correspondences between the Persian system and its Jewish counterpart. The Austrian talmudist Isaac Hirsch Weiss was drawn to parallels between Zoroastrianism and the Talmud; he listed a number of critical areas in which, he argued, the rabbis had adopted Persian practices. Just as interesting, in other places Weiss claimed to have found signs of resistance—instances in which rabbis established practices specifically as a means of precluding certain “Persianisms.”

Although “in general, the Iranian element has been relatively slighted,” this seems to be changing in recent years. In 1982, E. S. Rosenthal “urged the mastery of Middle Persian, the Sassanian lingua franca, as a gateway to Talmud study” (emphasis mine).
Dr. Secunda is publishing a book giving an introduction to the Iranian situated Talmud, titled The Iranian Talmud. This semester, he is teaching a class on Women, Ritual and Religion in Late Antique Judaism at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem. His second book will be based on the topic of his dissertation, a study of the Babylonian rabbinic law of menstruation in relation to corresponding Zoroastrian texts, and he has a forthcoming article on Zoroastrian and Rabbinic ‘Genealogies’ of Menstruation: Medicine, Myth, and Misogyny. In an excerpt from this article, he observes that

The gender politics of textual production dictate that for the most part, ancient religious works which have survived into modern times were produced by and for men. When women are the subject of these texts, it is always through the male gaze. Hence female physiological processes, like menstruation, are often interpreted via male physiognomy, and the normative body is usually the male body. When we look at the way menstruation is depicted in male-authored texts, we find that at the very least the phenomenon is a source of wonder, if not always revulsion and misogyny.

For Sasanian rabbis and Zorasterian dadwars, menstruation was a physiological phenomenon accompanied by a set of prohibitions and purification practices.

Do click through to read the interview, in which Dr. Secunda discusses what the Iranian context adds to the study of the Babylonian Talmud, how his approach relates to Gemara and halakha, the relationship between the Talmud, Sasanian law, and Greco-Roman law, the inclusion of feminist perspectives in the study of rabbinic texts, and more.

Oxford Journals Halloween Collection

October 15, 2013

Curl up with thirteen spooky articles from our history journals.  The collection is free through the end of the month.”

Ends and the Nature of Things

October 14, 2013

I was half-listening to a lecture by Alasdair MacIntyre this evening in which he talked about inferring the ends (as in telos) of things based on their natures. For example, the proper end of a frog is to be fully a frog, to achieve the fullness of frogness. (He said it more elegantly, but that’s the basic idea.)

This is fairly standard natural law reasoning, and I’ve heard it before. But as I listened to it tonight, I realized that this notion of “the nature of a frog” tacitly assumes that there is some essence of “frogness” – but this is inconsistent with the statistical nature of how species (in particular, and things in general) actually work. We humans define a category called “frog” and we classify individual animals as in or out of that category. But if we measured all the relevant froggy characteristics of each animal, they’d show a normal (Gaussian) statistical distribution.

So what is the essence of “frogness”? Is it the mean (peak) of the distribution? Are those frogs more froggy than the frogs that are a half-sigma away from the mean? That doesn’t make any sense… and it would have some pretty vile implications if extended to human beings.

It doesn’t have much room for the notion of evolution of species, either. Was the proper end of Homo erectus to be a protohuman, or to evolve towards Homo sapiens?

Furthermore, this reasoning involves, in Daniel Silvers’ memorable phrase, the valorization of the normal. James Keenan reflects on this in a 1999 paper:

we inadvertently “valorize the normal” (Silvers, 1999), because lacking the notion of end or perfection we have no other standard for what humans ought to be other than what they normally are. Of course, one reason that we valorize the normal is because we rightly fear whatever else we might endorse in the absence of an adequate anthropological vision. In this “endless” context, we classify persons with disabilities as not normal and therefore we believe that they will not become full human beings until they become normal. This prejudicial assumption is based in part simply on the fact that we have failed to articulate what it is that all human beings ought to aim at becoming. Is having hearing, four limbs, and being at least five feet tall what we consider what all humans ought to become? Hopefully not, but in lieu of any discussion of an anthropological goal, i.e., what the generations prior to us called perfection, we continue to live with unexamined presuppositions that valorize uncritically the normal. In turn, the normal emerges as an undynamic but definitely biased standard which enjoys tacit approval.

— James F. Keenan, ‘“Whose Perfection is it Anyway?”: A Virtuous Consideration of Enhancement’, Christian Bioethics 5:104-120, 1999

I’m lifting his argument a bit out of context here: he’s intending to show that for human beings, our proper ends ought to be conceived of as more than simply physical, because we are rational and spiritual creatures that can make choices and so forth. But I think the underlying argument doesn’t depend on the distinctive properties of humanity: valorizing the normal makes no biological or physical sense. The normal is simply the most common expression of the distribution: don’t we usually valorize the exceptional, rather than the common?

Anyway, all of this leads me to doubt the validity of this approach of inferring ends from nature, because it seems to be built on a metaphysical notion of nature that is inconsistent with the actual nature of Nature.

Some Thoughts on Some Things Pope Francis has Said

October 12, 2013

…and on things other people have said in response.

I’ve been horribly busy over the past few months, but I’ve managed to write a few pope-centric posts at Gaudete Theology that might be of interest to BLT readers. Here are the titles and initial excerpts of those posts, in chronological order; please click through to read the rest and join the conversation.

(And thanks, Theophrastus, for encouraging me to crosspost!)

Papal Interview: “Disjointed Multitude of Doctrines”:

In the excerpts of the papal interview I’ve been seeing, this one leaped out at me (emphasis mine):

The dogmatic and moral teachings of the church are not all equivalent. The church’s pastoral ministry cannot be obsessed with the transmission of a disjointed multitude of doctrines to be imposed insistently.

because it reminded me of something I blogged about earlier, when discussing Roger Haight’s Systematic Ecclesiology:

Haight’s analysis demonstrates that the common pejorative “cafeteria Catholic” (wielded in both directions) is not only unfair, but inadequate, to describe what’s really going on. It is not a matter of cherrypicking items out of a coherent body of teachings based on personal preference. The fact is that the body of teachings is not presently coherent: faced with this situation, many Catholics are, with great integrity, constructing a self-consistent theological system, resolving contradictions by applying (what they understand to be) the core values of the gospel.

It also resonated very strongly for me with an experience I had as a young adult. I moved “back home” after college for about six months, and was singing with my parish choir during that time. It so happened that my last night to sing with the choir before moving out of town again was Ash Wednesday, which is a fast and abstinence day for Catholics (no meat, no snacks between smaller-than-usual meals).

After mass, up in the choir loft, there was a little farewell party for me, and one of the women brought out a cake that said “Good Bye and Good Luck” on it. To which my immediate, internal response was:

Oh no! It’s Ash Wednesday, I can’t eat this! It’s a fast day. We just started Lent!

followed immediately by the realization that…


The Pope and the Atheist:
This was a fascinating interview that I wish I had time to blog further, but this was my favorite part:

The Pope comes in and shakes my hand, and we sit down. The Pope smiles and says: “Some of my colleagues who know you told me that you will try to convert me.”

It’s a joke, I tell him. My friends think it is you want to convert me.

He smiles again and replies: “Proselytism is solemn nonsense, it makes no sense. We need to get to know each other, listen to each other and improve our knowledge of the world around us. Sometimes after a meeting I want to arrange another one because new ideas are born and I discover new needs. This is important: to get to know people, listen, expand the circle of ideas. The world is crisscrossed by roads that come closer together and move apart, but the important thing is that they lead towards the Good.”

And I smile when I read the next line, because this is how my conversations with my atheist friends always go, too…


“Your Christianity will be Personal, or it will be Bullshit”: Beneath Grisez’s Critique of Francis:
In response to Francis’ recently published interview with an atheist, Germaine Grisez had some startling criticism:

I’m afraid that Pope Francis has failed to consider carefully enough the likely consequences of letting loose with his thoughts in a world that will applaud being provided with such help in subverting the truth it is his job to guard as inviolable and proclaim with fidelity. For a long time he has been thinking these things. Now he can say them to the whole world — and he is self-indulgent enough to take advantage of the opportunity with as little care as he might unburden himself with friends after a good dinner and plenty of wine.

Katherine Mahon over at Daily Theology has some thoughtful reflections about the interview that also, I think, implicitly engages with the substance of Grisez’s critique, but I want to focus on the subtext, the assumptions, beneath this critique, which I find far more disturbing.

Grisez affirms that the Pope’s job is to to guard [the truth] as inviolable and proclaim [it] with fidelity. The truth we’re talking about here is the truth of the gospel, the truth which was entrusted to the Church.

He then criticizes Francis for being open and honest in saying what he really thinks and how he really feels.

The underlying assumption is that popes, bishops, and preachers have a responsibility to conceal any personal thoughts, feelings, or opinions that might potentially be interpreted as inconsistent with any element of the formal teachings of the church. …


Read more…

Canadian surprise

October 10, 2013

Before this morning, if I were asked to name the best contemporary Canadian author in English*, I would have responded, without hesitation, Robertson Davies (yes, I know he died in 1995, but for me, he is still a vital author).  If pressed for another example, I would have mentioned Margaret Atwood.  If pressed for a third example, I would have named Michael Ondaatje.  If asked for a fourth example, I would have called  out Mordecai Richler (died 2001).  I might at some point have referred to Leonard Cohen, whom I consider to be a Canadian poet.

We would have gone fairly far down the list before I would have named Alice Munro.

(*I regret that I am woefully ignorant of contemporary Canadian authors in French or other languages.)

New translations of Iliad, Odyssey, Decameron, Ivan Ilyich, and Tolstoy’s Confession

October 6, 2013

A somewhat overwrought Wall Street Journal article announces several new translations:

The article in the Wall Street Journal, as is typical of Rupert Murdoch news outlets, is amusing but rather shallow—suggesting that the principal differences between various translations of Anna Karenina are best characterized by how they translate “поршни”—a term for a type footwear:

Leo Tolstoy’s novel Anna Karenina famously starts “All happy families are alike.”  But what readers may want to know is how alike are different translations of such foreign classics?  There are half-a-dozen English-language translations of the 1878 Russian novel available for sale online, including the 2001 version produced by celebrated translators Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky.  An endorsement by Oprah Winfrey turned that edition into a best-seller, with more than 1.3 million copies in print to date.  Yet next year, two new translations of the massive novel will hit the shelves. “Why two more now, and in the same year? I have no idea,” says Mr. Pevear in an email.

It isn’t only Tolstoy’s works that get such treatment. For example, shoppers can choose from half-a-dozen versions of The Decameron, Giovanni Boccaccio’s sometimes bawdy 14th-century tale.  This month, however, W.W. Norton & Co. will publish a new translation by Wayne A. Rebhorn priced at $40. New versions of The Iliad and The Odyssey are also coming this fall.

What possesses a publisher to produce a new version of a classic?  The long answer is that costs are low—no big author advances are needed—and there is always a chance that a new version will become a hit in colleges, providing an annuity revenue stream.  And the short answer, at least in some cases, is that some translators are out to make names for themselves. 

“I thought I could do better,” says Mr. Rebhorn, an English professor at the University of Texas at Austin who started work on The Decameron in 2006 after concluding that the translations he was teaching in his classroom fell short of the mark.  As an example, he cites a 1977 version, published by Norton, that includes a scene where a young man is described as being “naked from the waist down.”  Mr. Rebhorn says Boccaccio actually wrote the man was "naked from the waist up."  The distinction is critical to the meaning of the scene, a central point of which is a red birthmark on the man’s chest, says Mr. Rebhorn. 

One of the translators of the 1977 version, Peter Bondanella, a distinguished professor emeritus of comparative literature, film studies and Italian at Indiana University, appeared a tad put out when told of Mr. Rebhorn’s critique.  “I would be happy to address this question if you allow me to go over Wayne’s edition and find some mistakes that he can address,” he said via email.  In a follow-up note, Mr. Bondanella said that mistakes are inevitable in translations of such long, complex works. “Each new translation profits from those that went before,” he wrote. “I am sure that Wayne took a look at our version, especially since we tried to take a nonarchaic, non-British approach to Boccaccio’s great and very clear vernacular Italian.”  Mr. Bondanella said he would seek to correct the error that Mr. Rebhorn spotted in future editions.

But such concerns provide impetus for some translators, such as Rosamund Bartlett, who is translating one of the coming new versions of Anna Karenina, for Oxford University Press.  (Another, translated by Marian Schwartz, will be published by Yale University Press.)  Ms. Bartlett describes herself as a “perfectionist,” one reason her translation has taken seven years, three years longer than Tolstoy took to write the book in the first place. She also wrote a well-received biography of Tolstoy during that period. 

Her exactitude comes through in her focus on the correct translation of a word used to describe footwear in a hunting scene, featuring an aristocrat dressed in shabby clothing and wearing a summer peasant shoe made from a simple piece of leather.  The late translator Constance Garnett, whose published translation first appeared in 1901, described the footwear as “spats,” which Ms. Bartlett says is “an example of where she was off the mark.”  Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky, in their best-selling version, described the footwear as “brogues,” which Ms. Bartlett believes conjures up an image of “smart shoes with perforations.”  She decided to describe the shoes as “light peasant moccasins.”  Yet even the choice of “moccasin” contains within it the seeds of misunderstanding, she notes, since there are many relatively fancy moccasins available for sale today. “It’s a loaded word, particularly in the U.S.,” says Ms. Bartlett.  “Most disagreements over words ignore the context, which is all important,” responds Mr. Pevear in an email.  He says Tolstoy’s original word for the shoes, “porshni,” “is obsolete in Russian,” describing “primitive peasant shoes made from raw leather.”  He says that is “rather close to the first meaning of brogues in the Oxford English Dictionary: ‘rough shoes of untanned hide.’ “

As Ms. Bartlett’s seven-year effort suggests, translating is a labor of love for many. Certainly, no one goes into the field to get rich. Ms. Bartlett’s entire advance for the book was £4,500, or about $7,000.  Although she is also entitled to author royalties, she expects it “will be a long time before I get those.”  Judith Luna, a senior commissioning editor at Oxford University Press, said one reason Oxford is bringing out a new edition is that “we want to have a 21st-century translation with a critically up-to-date introduction and notes.”

For some, the act of translation confers its own rewards.  This November, Robert Weil, publishing director of Norton’s Liveright Publishing imprint, is publishing two of Tolstoy’s works translated by Peter Carson in one volume, The Death of Ivan Ilyich & Confession.  The work combines a piece of fiction and Tolstoy’s spiritual memoir. Mr. Carson completed his translation only a few days before dying.  “He consciously chose to spend the last year of his life translating this book,” says Mr. Weil.

Can there be too many translations of a single work?  Apparently not, because certain classic titles strike some publishers as simply irresistible. These include Murasaki Shikibu’s 11th-century novel The Tale of Genji, which has been published by Penguin Classics and others.  Yet Jill Schoolman, publisher of Brooklyn-based Archipelago Books, says she is mulling a new one.  “There’s always room for another excellent translation,” she says.

Claim: Serious fiction increases empathy

October 3, 2013

From New York Times:

Reading Chekhov for a few minutes makes you better at decoding what other people are feeling. But spending the same amount of time with a potboiler by Danielle Steel does not have the same effect, scientists reported Thursday.

A striking new study found that reading literary fiction – as opposed to popular fiction or serious nonfiction – leads people to perform better on tests that measure empathy, social perception and emotional intelligence.

The authors of the study, published by the journal Science, say that literary fiction often leaves more to the imagination, encouraging readers to make inferences about characters and be sensitive to emotional nuance and complexity. They theorize that reading literary fiction helps improve real-life skills like empathy and understanding the beliefs and intentions of others.

More here.

There is also an online quiz of empathy designed by Simon Baron-Cohen.  I have frequently been critical of Baron-Cohen’s theories; but I was absolutely terrified after taking this exam – you see, I scored a perfect score of 36/36.  I’m not sure if this means I am empathetic or something darker – or alternatively, that the test is simply too easy.

In all our sons’ (?) command

October 2, 2013

The Canadian national anthem was written originally in French and had no reference to sons. The translation is not particularly literal, and so in English the phrase “in all our sons’ command” does not reflect any similar phrase in French. This anthem was written in 1880 and did not become the national anthem until 1960 when it replaced “God save the queen.”

Now there is a move to make the anthem’s wording closer to the original and remove the word “sons’.” Notable  signers of the petition are the mother of Nichola Goddard, the first Canadian woman killed in combat, and Senator Vivianne Poy, a former student of my sister’s, as it happens. I hope this effort goes forward. We don’t need the rewriting of original texts in order to prioritize men. In a brief reminder, Luther’s Bible, so key in the Reformation, never did use the German equivalent of “sons of God.” His Bible only referred to “children” or “Kinder.” There needs to be a movement to restore the original inclusive language of the Bible.

Holy Gadoly: Great Women Leaders

September 25, 2013

Bonnie St. John with her daughter, has written a book called How Great Women Lead. She also has an amazing story of her own. But this leads to the problem of how “great women” are translated from Hebrew into English. What happens to the “great women” of the Hebrew Bible. Here is a brief translation history of a woman who was gadol in Hebrew or “great,” in 2 Kings 4:8.

And it fell on a day, that Elisha passed to Shunem, where was a great woman; and she constrained him to eat bread. And so it was, that as oft as he passed by, he turned in thither to eat bread. King James

One day Elisha went on to Shunem, where a wealthy woman lived, who urged him to eat some food. So whenever he passed that way, he would turn in there to eat food. ESV

One day Elisha went to Shunem. And a well-to-do woman was there, who urged him to stay for a meal. So whenever he came by, he stopped there to eat. NIV 2011

But what about men who are gadol? What does Bible translation do for them?

Now the king’s sons, being seventy persons, were with the great men of the city, which brought them up. King James

Now the king’s sons, seventy persons, were with the great men of the city, who were bringing them up. ESV

Now the royal princes, seventy of them, were with the leading men of the city, who were rearing them. NIV 2011

It may seem a detail, but great men morph into “leaders” and a great woman morphs into a “wealthy” or “well-to-do” woman. If you have a firm belief that women are not really “leaders” this is a helpful transition. This also reinforces the notion that men are one thing, and women are something else. Of course, nothing wrong with being wealthy, but nonetheless, women need to be represented as the leaders that they were. Examples of women who were leaders in the Hebrew Bible are Deborah, the judge, and most likely Jael as a judge also; and the wise woman of Abel and the wise woman of Tekoa, both clearly the leaders of their community.

The Bible continues to be used as a well from which one can draw stories to illustrate issues of our day. Malcolm Gladwell has just written David and Goliath: Underdogs, Misfits, and the Art of Battling Giants.  Women also should be able to draw on the Hebrew Bible as a source of leading women, of women who come out from under as David did. We should think of Esther, not as a beauty queen, but as a politician and saviour of her people. She was clever and calculating and successful.

Homeland and Fatherland

September 24, 2013

Let me tell you about a language faux pas I once made.  I was at a conference in Singapore, and speaking in Mandarin with some researchers from mainland China.  Our conversation drifted to the topic of the Mandarin dialect itself.  Because I learned Mandarin primarily from teachers and materials from Taiwan, I used the term 國語 (guoyu, literally “national language”) instead of 普通話 (putonghua, literally “common speech”).  A Mandarin-speaking Singaporean listening to our discussion kicked me and harshly whispered in my ear “other side, other side!”

As I understand it, not only was the term 國語 uncommon to the mainlanders, but it actually carried harshly negative overtones, much like the term “fatherland” once did to English speakers.  “Fatherland” sounds distinctly like the German vaterland – as in the now infamous German national anthem:

Deutschland, Deutschland über alles,
Über alles in der Welt, …

Deutsche Frauen, deutsche Treue,
Deutscher Wein und deutscher Sang….

…Blüh’ im Glanze dieses Glückes,
Blühe, deutsches Vaterland

My understanding is that in the postwar Federal Republic, only the last stanza is sung, so that German citizens no longer declare that “Germany, Germany is over all else – over all else in the world” or express their devotion to “German women, German loyalty, German wine and German song.”  Nonetheless, they do pray for the German fatherland to flourish.

While the phrase “fatherland” is completely comprehensible to native English listeners, it chills many listeners because of its Nazi overtones.  (Note, for example, that native English listeners do not have nearly the same degree of negative reaction to the word “motherland” [in Russian Родина-мать.])  My understanding that is that 國語 is similarly jarring to mainland Mandarin listeners. 

But, I am no longer certain that I can use “fatherland” as an example.  The truth is that the word “fatherland” no longer affects me the way it once did.  I have become gradually acclimated to it – not through repeated use of the phrase “fatherland,” but through repetitions of the word “homeland” and the phrase “homeland security.”  The fact that so many people can utter these “homeland” phrases with absolutely no trace of irony at all has somehow taken the edge off the term “fatherland.”

At the same time, the phrase “Homeland Security” still makes me strikes as a bit ominous (in a way, for example, that “Department of the Interior” does not.)  In fact, I have to wonder whether that ominous effect was a deliberate choice.  Perhaps the architects of the “Department of Homeland Security” (DHS), created in the wake of the 9/11 terrorist attacks, desired to project a level of severity.  It certainly seems that agencies belonging to DHS have sometimes chosen threatening names.  Perhaps the most evident example is the US Immigration and Customs Enforcement agency (which was created by the same legislation that created DHS), which prefers to be known by the acronym ICE – apparently a calculated “chilly” effect.

In any case, the term “fatherland” no longer upsets me the way it once did.  Are Americans, who live under the jurisdiction and watchful eye of Homeland Security, really in a position to disapprove of those who profess devotion to the Fatherland?