Author: Martin Kramer

Orientalists: there when you need them

On By Martin Kramer

Edward Said famously omitted any discussion of German orientalists from his book Orientalism, and he skipped the Italians too. So I rejoice whenever I see one of these remote figures resurrected, and all the more so when it’s done by Arabs, now grateful for the work of those dead white Europeans who devoted their lives to Islamic studies, and who escaped Said’s scattershot indictment.

My latest satisfaction is prompted by a ceremony held the other week at the National Library in Algiers. It celebrated the recent publication of an Arabic translation of the monumental history of Muslim-ruled Sicily written by the Sicilian orientalist Michele Amari (1806-1889). Amari, the founder of Islamic studies in Italy, spent 30 years researching and writing Sicily’s history during the island’s two-plus centuries under Muslim rule (9th-11th centuries). His Storia dei Musulmani di Sicilia was a work of the highest scholarship, but it had a political purpose too: Amari wanted to prove that Sicilians didn’t need tutoring from northern Europeans about democracy and freedom, because they had lived for over two hundred years under Islamic law. That’s right: his work was a paean to the syncretic “social democracy” of Islamic rule. That wouldn’t have fit very well under any of the chapter headings of Said’s Orientalism.

For Muslim historians, Sicily was a sideshow, and the Arabic sources are scattered. Thanks to this new Arabic translation, produced by a team of Egyptian and Italian scholars, many Arabic readers will learn for the first time of this chapter in Islamic-Christian relations. Of course, in the present climate, it may also stimulate a call by Muslim extremists for the return of Sicily to Muslim rule. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Leading orientalists arrived today

On By Martin Kramer

Today I received my subscriber’s copy of the Encyclopaedia of Islam supplement. That’s volume 12 of the project, which brings it to a conclusion after nearly fifty years. It’s completely irrational to own a hard copy of the encyclopaedia, since today you can buy a CD version or subscribe to it online. The supplement alone arrived with a bill for 634 Euros.

But I admit to being irrational when it comes to EI2. I derive expensive satisfaction from seeing those dark green volumes lined up on my shelf, each bearing this shocking confession on the title page: “Prepared by a number of leading orientalists.” As a student, I always had to seek out the encyclopaedia on the library reference shelf, and scour the nearby desks if a volume was missing, so I associate ownership of a personal set with luxury and standing. I wish I had more spare time to leaf idly through the double-columned pages, acquiring knowledge both relevant and arcane. (Would that I had an hour to read through the eleven columns in the supplement devoted to the subject of ghanam, which “designates the class of small livestock with a predominance, according to the countries, of either sheep or goats.” At a glance, it really does look fascinating.) One could browse like this endlessly.

I’m the author of exactly one entry (“Mu’tamar,” on Islamic congresses, in volume 7), so I’ve added one small brick to this monument, a contribution that’s quite likely to outlast anything on this website. Dare I say it, perhaps this confers upon me the status of a “leading orientalist.” So I will grimace, write my check, and settle down to enjoy my purchase. I presume my heirs will recoup some of the expense, and some acquisitive younger scholar will derive the same pleasure from ownership of this set as I have. About which, consult the entry dawr (a period of cyclical time, a turn), supplement, pp. 206-7.

The madness of Massad

On By Martin Kramer

James Panero, art critic and associate editor of The New Criterion, recently reviewed Edward Said’s Humanism and Democratic Criticism. He now makes this comparison between Said and Columbia assistant professor Joseph Massad, who stands accused of browbeating his students. (Venue: Armavirumque, weblog of The New Criterion.)

The difference between Professor Massad and Edward Said is one of intelligence. Said was brilliant at constructing political causes out of “humanistic practice.” His personality was informed by a sort of demotic form of nineteenth-century Romanticism. He relied on the claims of “otherness” in order to slide over the shallowness of his arguments. Joseph Massad, however, is rather more dimwitted than all that, but he does an (unintentional) service in exposing the underlying thuggishness of Saidian logic. The meandering rhetoric–let alone madness–of Massad’s personal manifesto, published on Columbia’s computers, should be cause alone for questioning his employment at a top university. His arguments are not meant to foster debate but crush debate by abnegating a student’s rights to a fair discussion. How can you debate a madman, or at least mad arguments? Professor Massad has taken away not just the freedom of speech but the freedom of discussion from students, all the while claiming that he (a tenure-track professor) is the beleaguered agent facing down intimidation (from powerless students).