Taking the bullet

Reporters Without Borders reports that 2005 was a brutal year for journalists; 63 journalists and five media assistants were killed, while 1,308 were assaulted or threatened. Iraq, where 24 journalists and five media assistants were killed, was the most treacherous location for journalists, having claimed the lives of 76 journalists and media assistants since the beginning of the conflict there in March of 2003.  

Mimi Hanaoka

 

Eye of the Butterfly

Editor’s note: In the final days of 2005, ITF made inquiries about the identity of its new translator-in-residence. We have so far received two responses.

Admiral Babočka (grandson of Vanessa Atalanta), who has published several articles on Motýlí Voko, writes:

In Czech, “motýlí oko” signifies “the eye of the butterfly.” The name could be a reference to the famous Chinese story of Chuang Chou dreaming he was a butterfly. Waking up he could not figure out whether he was Chou dreaming of being a butterfly, or a butterfly dreaming of being Chou. Or, in fact, whether there is any difference between Chou and the butterfly.

The Chuang Tzu transformation story may be a clever play on perspectives, but it does not tell us who the author is and what he believes. For that I turn my dear reader’s attention to the recently (2003) uncovered DNA link between Motýlí Voko and the renowned Russian lepidopterist Timofey Timofeyevich Pnin. In chapter six of his autobiography, the butterfly scholar observes:

When a certain moth resembles a certain wasp in shape and color, it also walks and moves its antennae in a waspish, unmothlike manner. When a butterfly has to look like a leaf, not only are all the details of a leaf beautifully rendered but markings mimicking grub-bored holes are generously thrown in. “Natural selection,” in the Darwinian sense, could not explain the miraculous coincidence of imitative aspect and intimate behavior, nor could one appeal to the theory of “the struggle for life” when a protective device was carried to a point of mimetic subtlety, exuberance, and luxury far in excess of a predator’s power of appreciation.

The writer inside the scientist adds: “I discovered in nature the nonutilitarian delights that I sought in art. Both were a form of magic, both were a game of intricate enchantment and deception.”

Here ends our excerpt from Babočka’s letter.

Červená Housenka (Red Caterpillar) comments: “With all due respect to Dr. Babočka, the academician cannot see beyond the brim of his spectacles. The intention behind the name has been deliberately concealed by Voko, and those who do figure it out have been kindly asked to keep the secret to themselves.”

Click here for a portrait of Motýlí Voko by his friend Red Caterpillar.

Click here for a photo of the admiral.

Click here to watch the caterpillar in action.

Jan Vihan is a contributing writer for In The Fray.

 

Why progressives can’t win

Much of the progressive left in America believes that the state should not legislate on sexuality.  Because we cannot all agree on what is moral, it is a private concern.  In this sense it is an anti-moral position.  Being pro-choice relies on a similar argument.  Because we do not all agree on when life begins, the state should back away and let individuals make up their own minds.  In the broadest sense, these are applications and extensions of the historic liberal argument for the separation of church and state.  Where there is disagreement on morals and no individual is being harmed by another, the state should not impose one view.  This logic is part of a grand tradition associated with John Locke.

Most of the left also believes that diversity in the population is broadly good.  This can be purely for aesthetic reasons.  New York City is simply more exciting than Topeka.  (I know this from personal experience.)  However, this argument can be taken further.  The claim can be made that diversity is necessary to a basic freedom to develop ourselves as individuals in the way that we desire.  For this freedom to be meaningful, there must be options.  Were everyone the same, there would no longer be any choice.  This is an elaboration on principles articulated most artfully by John Stuart Mill.

A principled libertarian would be unlikely to take issue with these ideas.  Progressives would also want to agree.  Unfortunately, they would be wrong.

True diversity implies disagreements on moral questions.  The liberal solution is to make these private rather than public.  As diversity increases, this necessarily means that the range of public morality decreases.  One can imagine the conclusion — it becomes impossible to impose any morality at all.  This seems fine for the left when the question is one of gay rights.  However, there is no reason to stop there.  Why should the broader society be responsible for helping the unfortunate?  This is a moral position as well.

The contemporary left approaches this in two ways.  The most common is to press for state support of their particular progressive beliefs.  This contradicts the first principle, as many individuals are forced to support with their taxes a morality they do not agree with.  The second is to reduce diversity.  In other words, make everybody a progressive.  Perhaps effective propaganda could make the entire country into Cambridge or the Upper West Side.  But what would happen to our freedom of choice then?

There is no obvious solution to this dilemma.  What appears to be happening in the United States is a slow but steady erosion of the possibility of public morality.  One might celebrate the decline of the repressive establishment.  But nothing has replaced it.  The right responds to the vacuum by trying to eliminate the church/state separation, reduce diversity, and prevent the ascension of the progressive ideal.  The basic contradictions in progressive politics makes this battle difficult to fight.  Without new ideas of politics and society, it seems unlikely that it can be won.

—Pete DeWan

 

Down with intelligent design

Pennsylvania residents earlier voted out all of the school board members who supported the decision that public schools be forced to present “intelligent design” as an alternative to evolution. Yesterday the new Dover Area School Board, bolstered by U.S. District Judge John E. Jones III’s decision that intelligent design is a religious — and not a scientific — concept, threw out the policy to introduce intelligent design in science classrooms.

Intelligent design, in its simplest terms, is a theory that questions the legitimacy of evolution and suggests the universe has been formulated, in all its complexity, by a higher power.  U.S. District Judge John E. Jones III ruled that the previous school board desired “to promote religion in the public school classroom,” in clear violation of the principle of the separation of church and state.

Mimi Hanaoka

 

No more Playboy

There will be no more Playboy. Or at least no more Playboy as we know it, sort of; the magazine is now concocting plans to launch an Indian edition, complete with models and pin ups who will be clothed to suit Indian norms and laws.

Apparently nobody reads Playboy for the articles anymore, and few Americans even read the magazine at all; in 2004 magazine sales shrank one percent domestically, while sales rose by 13 percent abroad. The magazine’s parent company’s primary sources of revenue are extra-literary — video games, porn, DVDs, television, and the like. The answer, then, is to sell overseas, and with approximately 200 million people reading magazines, India should be a prime target. Except that India bans having or peddling goods of “lascivious or appeals to the prurient interest,” barring material that can be redeemed by virtue of its value as art, literature, or religious content. And Playboy, as we know it, certainly fails all three of those criteria.

So what will Playboy look like without its signature nude playmates? Playboy Enterprises’ Chief Executive Christie Hefner stated that the Indian magazine, which may not even be called Playboy, “would be an extension of Playboy that would be focused around the lifestyle, pop culture, celebrity, fashion, sports and interview elements of Playboy.”

The idea is, apparently, that sex doesn’t haven’t to be American, or even western, to sell. Good luck, Playboy.

Mimi Hanaoka

  

 

Match Point is one of Woody’s best

Woody Allen films have conveniently fallen into one of two categories — the humorous, character-driven, self-mocking comedies and the serious, character-driven, life-mocking dramas.  Only a few have achieved an adroit balance of both, and those have come to be his greatest films: Oscar-winners Annie Hall and Hannah and her Sisters.  His latest film, Match Point, joins those two films in the upper tier of Mr. Allen’s cinematic repertoire and is one of the best films of 2005.

Match Point’s theme centers on the belief that luck plays an important role in life and one never knows which way that luck will go — good or bad.  The key to this film’s success lies with the excellent cast — smartly deprived of the tried and true neurotic Woody — who play off each other like a tightly choreographed Gilbert & Sullivan operetta directed by Ingmar Bergman.  Leading the cast is a subdued but chillingly charming performance by Jonathan Rhys-Meyers (Bend It Like Beckham) as one-time tennis pro Chris Wilton, who by shear luck enters the world of London’s upper crust by letting the daughter of a wealthy industrialist fall in love with him.  The genius of the character, from both a written and performance standpoint, is the fact that Chris doesn’t intentionally try to weasel into a better life — it just happens, and he actually falls in love with the daughter, Chloe.  The only obstacle to Chris’ lucky situation comes in the form of a voluptuous American actress named Nola (Scarlett Johansson), the fiancée of Chloe’s brother Tom (Matthew Goode), who was the first to befriend Chris while seeking tennis lessons.  Nola neither tries to encourage Chris’ lust for her nor tries perpetuate what becomes an unfortunate affair.  

Match Point could have easily turned into a melodramatic family soap opera in the hands of a lesser-experienced writer-director, but Mr. Allen so deftly lets his actors naturally unfold the characters’ lives within the context of the story that it all feels organic and believable.  But what elevates this film isn’t the Greek tragedy you’re expecting but a right turn during the end of the second act that takes the film in a whole other direction.  Without spilling the beans, I can say it is quite thrilling.

Johansson is sexy and vulnerable, sad and hopeful, all at once but without outshining the rest of the cast.  Goode, while taking a bit of Hugh Grant and a touch of Rupert Everett, gives a vision of a 21st-century British rich kid who you wouldn’t mind being your best friend.  Brian Cox and Penelope Wilton play the parents like a privileged-class Stiller and Meara, with subtly amusing exchanges providing just the right amount of comic relief.  Chloe is the clueless plain Jane who can’t believe she snagged the cute jock, but the way Emily Mortimer plays her, you never feel sorrow or envy towards the character. The best kudos go to Rhys-Meyers who plays Chris like a poor kid in a candy store who can’t believe he’s surrounded by goodies but also can’t quite enjoy them until he’s told he’s allowed to indulge himself.

Mr. Allen deserves a lot of credit for writing a superb screenplay full of pathos, charm, and tragedy and is one of the few films of 2005 to make you ponder the particulars of life in a very engaging manner.  Match Point is one of the year’s best mature films, combining drama and humor elements in a simple but unique way.  Match Point is in theaters now.

Rich Burlingham

 

Holding On and Letting Go (Best of In The Fray 2005)

issue banner

With an aura of newness infiltrating the streets as we embark on 2006, it’s all too easy to plunge headfirst into the new year without looking back. But as we here at In The Fray have learned, letting go requires holding onto vestiges of our past; progress demands retrospection.

Perhaps it’s no coincidence, then, that our readers and editors became a bit nostalgic when we asked them to select their favorite ITF stories of 2005 this past December. Their selections, featured in this issue of ITF, reflect on holding on and letting go—and set the bar for the editorial excellence and innovation we strive to continue as our magazine embarks on its fifth year.

We begin with the Vanishing Heritage series, Pulitzer Prize-winning photographer John Kaplan’s three vibrant photo essays documenting the indigenous cultures of rapidly dwindling ethnic minorities in China, Bolivia, and Thailand. Halfway around the world, Penny Newbury, in her essay Ña Manu, returns to Fuerte Olimpo, Paraguay, only to discover that despite her three years there, she still doesn’t quite understand the place she called home.

Taking their own somber journeys of sorts, columnist Afi Scruggs uses the recent trial of Edgar Ray Killen to gauge how far we still have to go before our country overcomes a shameful history of racist violence in Mississippi Learning, while Katharine Tillman disrobes one young runaway’s so-called Land of Enchantment in her tale of a woman seeking to flee a dying relationship for a better life.

Speaking of the quest for a brighter future, contributing writer Emily Alpert investigates the struggles faced by transgendered and transsexual prisoners in California and surveys the prospects for combatting their double-marginalization in Gender Outlaws. Meanwhile, guest columnist S. Wright explores how the battle for gay marriage may adversely impact another class of sexual minorities—gays and lesbians of color—in the long-run.

And in Always Know Your Place literary editor Laura Madeline Wiseman explores the divergent ways Irene Kai and three generations of her female ancestors challenged and succumbed to female cultural expectations in Kai’s memoir The Golden Mountain. Offering another perspective on generational gaps, Rhian Kohashi O’Rourke reflects on her aging grandfather, a World War II veteran, as she grapples with keeping his memory alive even as it fades from his mind in Tofu and Toast, voted the Best of INTERACT … so far this past fall.

Rounding out this month’s collection of oldies but goodies are two large doses of humor from ITF’s resident cartoonists. The Boiling Point offers you The Super-Duper Quick and Easy Guide to Not Becoming a Terror Suspect for all those worried about being classified as a terrorist in this brave new world, while Secret Asian Man reminds you which people qualify as The Default Race.

The excellent stories we featured in 2005 were made possible in no small part by our ability to pay many writers a modest honorarium. Because we are an almost entirely donor-supported publication, we need your help to continue publishing pieces from the margins, journalism with depth and heart that you won’t find in the mainstream press. If you have enjoyed what we’ve published this past year—and I hope you have—please consider making a donation to ITF so we can continue to pay our writers and bring you more groundbreaking content.

We hope you enjoyed reading ITF in 2005 as much as we enjoyed producing it. Happy New Year!

Laura Nathan
Editor
Buffalo, New York

Coming in February: our “defying gravity” issue.

 

Sobering statistics

U.S. government tallied 844 American servicemen and women killed in Iraq in 2005, upping the total killed in since the conflict officially erupted in March of 2003 to 2,178.  The number of Americans wounded during the same period is 15,955. Iraq Body Count puts the number of Iraqi deaths at about 30,000 since the war began in 2003.

Mimi Hanaoka

 

Ordinary, yet iconic: Rosa Parks and Fred Korematsu, R.I.P.

As 2005 comes to an end, critics are trotting out their various “Year in Review” lists. I’m not sure if 10 or 20 years from now we’ll remember anything on these lists. The few items of real importance — Hurricane Katrin…

As 2005 comes to an end, critics are trotting out their various “Year in Review” lists. I’m not sure if 10 or 20 years from now we’ll remember anything on these lists. The few items of real importance — Hurricane Katrina or the South Asian earthquake, for instance — we’d sooner forget, along with the litany of 2005’s other disasters, natural and man-made. The rest of 2005’s “memorable moments” just clutter our brain cells. Yes, it is true that our beloved celebrities rose to unprecedented pinnacles of insanity and inanity in 2005 — with on-air crack-ups and fizzled marriages and a revolving door of indictments and acquittals, continually televised and scrutinized — but that kind of news lasts as long as the cheap tabloid paper it’s printed on. A few decades from now, almost all the personalities of 2005 will have become obscure, the stuff of unfortunate Trivial Pursuit stumpers.

Instead of dwelling on celebrated disasters or disastrous celebrities, then, I’d like to end the year paying homage to two individuals who actually lived quiet and ordinary lives, mostly away from the cameras, and yet left legacies that our grandchildren’s grandchildren will likely remember. One is Rosa Parks, and the other is Fred Korematsu. Both died in 2005.

The better-known of the duo, of course, is Rosa Parks, but even her life has become clouded by myth-making over the years. Most of us remember her as the fearless woman who one day refused to get up from her seat on a segregated bus in Montgomery, Alabama, and thus sent Jim Crow crashing to the ground. Rosa Parks did all this, yes, but we sometimes forget that she was not just a seamstress but also a longtime activist, who served as an officer of her local NAACP chapter and trained at the Highlander Folk School, a center in Tennessee known for its left-wing politics and outspoken advocacy on behalf of workers’ rights and racial equality. At Highlander the instructors taught, “You are a child of God; You can make a difference” — and it was these words, Parks later told a friend, that inspired her to defy a white bus driver’s order to give up her seat.

What is so moving about Rosa Parks’ life is the dignity and humility that she brought to it. She saw herself as one woman in a long line of activists struggling to change an unjust society. She had no ambition for leadership when she became secretary of the Montgomery NAACP in the 1940s: “I was the only woman there, and they needed a secretary, and I was too timid to say no,” Parks later said. She had not planned to stage a bus protest on December 1, 1955, she insisted, but when the bus driver barked at her Parks realized she was just too “tired of giving in.” She was not the first African American to be arrested for refusing to surrender a seat, but Parks brought a character of such irreproachable integrity to the cause that the community easily rallied around her; she was regarded, said the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr., as “one of the finest citizens of Montgomery” — black or white. Even after she gained fame for her role in the boycott, Parks continued to work as a seamstress, putting aside her needle and thread only in 1965 when Congressman John Conyers hired her as a secretary and receptionist. “You treated her with deference because she was so quiet, so serene,” Conyers said after her death.

Fred Korematsu, too, was a seemingly ordinary American who defied an unjust system. A 23-year-old welder from San Francisco, he refused to follow 100,000 other Japanese Americans to the internment camps during World War II, and was arrested.

While Korematsu was in jail the American Civil Liberties Union chose him (much as the NAACP had chosen Parks) to be their test case in a fight against the legality of internment. Korematsu’s case wound up before the Supreme Court, but in a 6-to-3 decision the country’s highest court declared that the government had a right to round up its citizens and imprison them, en masse, without trial. Korematsu, meanwhile, had become a pariah. The newspapers called him a spy; his fellow Japanese Americans, anxious to prove they were patriots, shunned him. “All of them turned their backs on me at that time because they thought I was a troublemaker,” Korematsu later said. After the war, Korematsu refused to speak of his earlier resistance. He felt remorse for his role in bringing about the Supreme Court decision that legalized the internment. His own daughter didn’t learn of her father’s wartime actions until she was a junior in high school.

Korematsu’s defining moment of courage would happen decades later, in the early 1980s, when a lawyer convinced him to take up his legal struggle once more. The lawyer, Peter Irons, had uncovered evidence that the government had exaggerated the dangers posed by Japanese Americans even while it was defending its policy of internment before the courts. Government lawyers offered Korematsu, then 64, a pardon. He refused. “As long as my record stands in federal court,” he said, “any American citizen can be held in prison or concentration camps without a trial or a hearing.” His conviction was eventually overturned — and with it, the legality of the Japanese American internment. Korematsu’s activism continued, however; in 2004, he filed an amicus brief with the Supreme Court, comparing the detention without trial of prisoners at Guantánamo Bay to those earlier human rights abuses perpetrated against Japanese Americans in the name of national security.

Fred Korematsu died on March 30, 2005. Rosa Parks died on October 24, 2005. On the surface, they were ordinary Americans, thrust into extraordinary circumstances. And yet both showed a quiet dignity that history will surely remember, long after this year’s headlines have faded away.

Victor Tan Chen

For more about Rosa Parks and Fred Korematsu, I recommend this Korematsu profile in The New York Times Magazine and the extensive entry on Parks in Wikipedia, which were useful sources for this post.

Victor Tan Chen is In The Fray's editor in chief and the author of Cut Loose: Jobless and Hopeless in an Unfair Economy. Site: victortanchen.com | Facebook | Twitter: @victortanchen

 

Future so bright I have to wear shades

On the morning of September 11th, 2001, I was riding my moped from the outskirts of Boston back to Cambridge.  My father had just called to make sure that I was no longer in New York City.  I stopped to see the burning World Trade Center on a 40-inch flat-screen television in a storefront display.  The rest of that day was a nightmare of trying to find my girlfriend across the overloaded cellular circuits of New York.

Like everyone, fear filled me those next few nights and days.  Repeated calls and emails finally got a response from an Egyptian-American friend of mine, who told me what was happening to her in New York City: “A kid that was a friend of the family was stabbed to death in Bay Ridge and another girl was stabbed, but she managed to survive. Two of my aunts have been harassed and their scarves were pulled off their heads. My mother has remained home since the incident … and as we were in the mosque on 96th, there was a bomb threat and everyone was evacuated.  It’s been a real shocking experience that has just caused me to be in a state of disbelief.”

With this on my mind, I began graduate school and soon was pursuing the research that would end up being my dissertation, an exploration of the experiences of Muslims in America.  Initially, I thought that the situation would be far more dire than I eventually learned.  As the research has progressed, I have become more and more optimistic.

I had planned to write this in a non-academic setting.  Unfortunately, Spencer Ackerman has beaten me to the punch.  His piece is well worth reading, and my research has led me to agree broadly with his conclusions.  However, one thing missing from his work is the fear that so many Muslims felt and continue to feel.  

What is striking about the Muslim response to this fear is how they are able to maintain optimism about their future in America.  The key to this is crucial to the experience of Muslims in America, and quite different from Western Europe.  Our long history of immigration has been colored by many negative incidents, for Chinese, Irish, Italians, and finally and most awfully, the internment of Japanese Americans.  Those of us on the political left often tend to fixate on the negative qualities of America, making it easy to forget just how good America is at integrating immigrants.  

Today, what we see and what a Muslim immigrant sees, is that these were followed by slow acceptance and eventual success in American society.  This is an invaluable ideological resource.  The tribulations of today do not have to be the reality of tomorrow.  When the mosque is firebombed, when your cousin is assaulted, you know that this is just a passing phase.  Endure.  Even if it is no rainbow, at the end there will still be a pot of gold.  For so many of those I spoke with, their future in America shines so brightly that even the darkest corners of the present are illuminated with hope.

—Pete DeWan

 

Munich caught in the crossfire

In journalism there are two fairly reliable ways to figure out if you’ve done a good job reporting a story. One is if both sides like your article, which suggests you were fair. The other is if both sides de…

In journalism there are two fairly reliable ways to figure out if you’ve done a good job reporting a story. One is if both sides like your article, which suggests you were fair.

The other is if both sides despise it.

Well, the reviews are in of Munich, Steven Spielberg’s film about the 1972 Olympic massacre, and not surprisingly, partisans on both sides hate it. One group accuses it of pandering to the enemy. The other accuses it of the so-called “sin of equivalence” because it depicts wrongs committed on both sides. (I’ll let you figure out which group is which.)

The irate reactions to Spielberg’s film remind us of how futile this decades-long conflict has become. Whether you believe that one group or the other had a claim to justice at one point, with the passing of time any compelling idealism or coherent ideology in this struggle has disappeared. Now there is only a ritual of bloodletting, followed by a ritual of finger-pointing.

Debates over Munich’s “equivalence” and “pandering” have the same hollow ring to them as these real-world protests over land and rights and security. The devil is always in these details. People die for them. Perhaps they are right to believe what they believe. And yet they never seem to find the justice they seek.

Rhetoric and righteousness aside, it is clear that there must be compromise on both sides for the conflict to ever end. Yet any attempt to reach compromise or consensus — including Munich, which Spielberg calls his “prayer for peace” — are inevitably savaged as pandering to the other side.  

Munich will not persuade the extremists hungry for more justice, but perhaps it will encourage a conversation between those tired of it. Spielberg says he saw a glimpse of this on the set of Munich, among the young Arab and Israeli actors who played the roles of terrorists and hostages in the Olympic massacre:

“It was just very, very difficult for me to play war with them,” says Spielberg. “It was — it was brutal and cathartic at the same, all in the same breath, to stage a scene where Jews have been killed and then I say, ‘Cut.’ The Palestinian with the Kalashnikov throws his weapon down and runs over to the Israeli actor who is on the ground and picks the actor up and falls into the Israeli’s arms and is sobbing. And then the Israeli actors and the Arab actors all running into this kind of circle and everybody is crying and holding each other.”

Spielberg’s voice is tremulous as he describes the young actors, steeped in the history and suffering of their two tribes, nonetheless trying to communicate with one another.

“It was so positive to see these two sides — actors, professional actors — coming together and being able to discuss what’s happening today in their world. Over dinner, between shots. There was always open discussion. No fighting. Just understanding and listening. I wish the world would listen more and be less intransigent. These kids weren’t talking on top of each other like trying to win an argument. These kids took time to listen before they spoke.”

The extremists, of course, aren’t listening. They are always criticizing, always asserting their righteousness, always demanding justice.

Perhaps someday peace will become more valuable to them than justice.

Victor Tan Chen

Victor Tan Chen is In The Fray's editor in chief and the author of Cut Loose: Jobless and Hopeless in an Unfair Economy. Site: victortanchen.com | Facebook | Twitter: @victortanchen

 

Don’t touch me

Since the kids won’t touch each other properly, don’t let them touch at all. Culver City Middle School acknowledges that its “no contact” policy, in which students are banned from any physical contact with one another, is written nowhere in the school’s documents but is nevertheless enforced. In an attempt to prevent bullying, brawls, and harassment among the school’s 1,739 students, the school forbids hugging, hand holding, and kissing on its premises. Is the program working?  Maybe. And sort of. Students complain about uneven enforcement of the rule, and as Paul Chung, UCLA assistant professor of pediatrics and staffer at the UCLA/Rand Center for Adolescent Health Promotion, states: “When you’re trying to extinguish a behavior, the trick is to be absolutely consistent so that every time the behavior is experienced, they get knocked down…. They know they’re never going to get away with it.”

It would be a boon if the unofficial “no touch” prescription eliminated harassment and bullying, but it seems to be coming at a sinister, in addition to somewhat inconsistent, price.  

Mimi Hanaoka

personal stories. global issues.