Kindness/Cruelty, Morals/Ethics: What We Tell Ourselves and What We Tell Others: Part 1

When I was a child I was told a great many lies, some by friends and family, others by society at large. Part of the reason I have a grudge against Disney is because they sold me a lie that it took until my 20’s to recover from: “Some day my prince will come.”. Society even supports this lie by saying “there is someone for everyone”, seeding the sense of inadequacy that develops from failed relationships and a lack of relationships. The sense of inadequacy that companies and marketing campaigns use to sell you things, and society blames you for, while ignoring that their messages mainly target white women and tell men they also don’t have to do anything as a partner will magically appear.

In anime the latter LITERALLY HAPPENS…but I can’t seem to find a gif for it so -

Discover & share this Dance GIF with everyone you know. GIPHY is how you search, share, discover, and create GIFs.

Now before I go all Fight Club on you (ha ha, get it? Cus satire?), the point I am making here is that we are raised with conflicting messages, messages meant to soften the full body blow that is the world we live in, maintain us as productive members of the social unit, and leave us imagining that even in a zombie apocalypse, we’ll all hold hands, pitch in, and make things work. 

Discover & share this Annihilation Movie GIF with everyone you know. GIPHY is how you search, share, discover, and create GIFs.

Or not.

The other reason the above gif works is because just before the events it depicts, Robert Carlyle and his wife were sat at a table having dinner with an elderly couple who had let them and a few others hole up in their house to protect themselves from the zom-sorry, those infected with the rage virus. They were trying to ‘make it work’. On that note, another lie I was told was that kindness is always repaid. What was built in my little mind in contrast to the stark and later bleak reality was the idea that the universe always rights itself, bad people are punished, and good people are rewarded. The universe DOES right itself, our definition of ‘righting itself’ however is wholly human (individual even) centred, and what we forget is balance in the universe does not necessarily mean balance for US. Anyway, the notion that all will work out the way we want in the end is part of the trick that keeps society functioning and the point from which I would like us to break things down: kindness/cruelty, morals/ethics, the lies we tell ourselves and the lies we tell others. To make things a bit easier to follow we can imagine that on the one hand we have kindness/cruelty and morals/ ethics, and on the other the lies we tell ourselves and the lies we tell others. They all overlap, because the lies we tell ourselves and others are often about kindness/cruelty and morals and ethics. In short, we tell ourselves lies about how kindness, cruelty, morals and ethics function in the world to keep ourselves functioning in the world, and we tell others lies about those same things in order to keep both ourselves and others functioning in the world. Thus the web is spun.

So going back to the example I opened with, children get sold the idea that they will eventually find love, marry and have kids. In addition to sparing children the harsh reality that it may not turn out that way or could possibly turn out that way but unhappily so, adults feel like ‘good’ people for shielding children and themselves from the idea that maybe, but not absolutely, unhealthy relationships are all that lies in store. Because society has trained us that being alone is bad or means there is something wrong with you, so heaven forbid you wind up ALONE (cue scary reveal music). Also, it is assumed that if you are alone you are not helping to perpetuate society by HAVING CHILDREN, which is the other, more basic reason children are socialized to marry and have children.

So back to kindness/cruelty. We are all raised to believe that people are inherently “good” or kind and that when you are in trouble, someone will always help you. We believe in the Good Samaritan, the kindly bystander. What we ignore is that they are the exception and not the rule as our notions of good, bad and normal are in reality constantly shifting. Part of this is because ‘good’,’ bad’ and ‘normal’ are terrible words, empty in meaning and excellent place holders, and part of this is that as place holders they are filled with a general, but not mutually agreed upon understanding. They can mean everything and nothing at the same time. 

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A good (ha ha) example of the issue with kindness/goodness is a form of the bystander effect. While training volunteers in Egypt to work against sexual harassment, a trainer showed a video of a crowd on a train platform in the UK. The idea was to show the volunteers how mass mentality works, and argue why it could work to stop harassers in public spaces. A group of actors had been hired to enact a pick pocketing to see how non-actors would react. The actor very obviously took the other actor’s wallet out of their pocket with the latter pretending not to notice, and in the video, it is clear that non-actors noticed, but no one said or did anything. Now we all like to imagine that if in that situation, we’d stop the pick pocket, but we know in our heart of hearts that is just not very likely. To be clear, I am saying UNLIKELY, not IMPOSSIBLE. We are more likely, as a second reenactment of the pick-pocketing showed, to do something when someone else does something first. This brings up the notion of discomfort; people are not comfortable in the moment of the situation when faced with ‘do something’ and stand out or ‘stay quiet’ and follow the crowd. At the same time, we do not like the idea that we are more likely to follow, or to seek permission to do something in public, or that maybe we just don’t care, so we tell ourselves that we are not that person, and that if a stranger needed help, we wouldn’t hesitate to act. Here’s some more proof for you.

But then this was the issue when it came to sexual harassment in public spaces: bystanders rarely if ever ACT, and they were even siding with the harasser. What the volunteers were being trained to do was change the flow of the tide so that more bystanders than not would stop the harasser versus support them or blame the harassed. 

These kinds of issues also unfold in more personal settings. Take the classic example so common that if it hasn’t actually happened to you, you have most likely seen it in your favourite tv series: a woman goes to confide in her friend that she is being sexually harassed[1]. She is visibly scared, but her friend, instead of comforting her, asks her if she was sure what she experienced was harassment. The friend then proceeds to downplay the story, suggesting to the woman that maybe there was some sort of misunderstanding or surely the person didn’t mean for their actions to be perceived as harassment. Congratulations: here is a lie we are telling both ourselves and others. We do not want to shatter our belief that the world is a ‘good’ place filled with ‘good’ people, we do not want to see our friends and family hurt, and we want to impart that utopia to our friend through convincing her that maybe it didn’t happen the way she thinks it did, and urging her to go back to the mental state she occupied before the incident(s) occurred. In peddling this fiction, we are reinforcing a social norm that promotes toxic masculinities and femininities, and we are shielding ourselves from the idea that terrible things may happen to us and our loved ones, or that we may be the perpetrators of acts that cause others pain. The reality however is that we are all guilty of causing pain, and it is only when we face this reality head on that we can begin to take apart why we do these things, how we can change, and maybe how we can heal the wounds inflicted on others and those visited upon us. Then maybe reality will seem less terrible, and we won’t want to hide ourselves and our loved ones. 

I could delve into these ideas further but there are too many things to unpack that would take us down many many side roads and into early retirement. Mainly what I was aiming at here is to get us thinking about how we could rethink what we do and how it impacts our own lives and the lives of those around us. Don’t be the silent bystander. Read your children the original Grimm’s Fairytales or stories where the princess saves herself (I am ashamed to admit I don’t know any off the top of my head, but I suggested Grimm because at least the prince loses the odd limb or gets derailed from his quest making it a bit more realistic). Take your friend at their word when they tell you they’ve been harassed/assaulted (I’m frowning at you Jussie Smollet.) Next time, I will try to tackle morals/ethics. Wish me luck and bring paracetemol. I’m off to watch the Promised Neverland.  

Anime - Tech - Games - VR

[1]In this hypothetical the women is indeed being sexually harassed and there is no ambiguity. If you are wondering what defines sexual harassment you can read Gunilla Carstensens 2016 piece ‘Sexual Harassment: The Forgotten Grey Zone’ and/or watch the BBC clip ‘Is This Sexual Harassment’ (https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p06x0jv5)

Daring to Dream: Reflections on Mothering and Social Justice with Love

I spent three summers buried under wet sand thanks to Armida, the old school Xicana who met my mama while she waited tables at La Cocina de Tere and quickly became one of the handful of women who raised me. Armida taught me about floating. And beach sun. Sandcastles and living on boats and salty air in your hair. Side ponytails, and brown coppery lipstick-growing up Xicana by the sea. The last summer we spent together, Armida got sick. I was four when I had just learned the ABCs song in English and I couldn’t wait to sing it for her. I practiced the song all the way to her house. But when I walked into her room...her small body covered in white blankets, her voice soft, her eyes still loving, she was barely there. I knew it would be the last time I’d ever see her. I never sang her the song, no words to describe the feelings that come with endings at that time. Armida died. To this day I know I grew up Xicana by the sea because of her.

 Four years ago, I was excited to participate in a circle of love called the Transitions Labs, a growing community experiment from the Movement Strategy Center asking many of us to ponder what we, as people living in this current moment, want to plant now to harvest 100 years from now, 1000 years from now, 10,000 years from now? The question has ebbed and flowed in my body ever since and while I’ve been doubtful of many things during my time alive, the only thing I’ve ever been certain of is my dream/wish/calling/commitment to be a mother to Xol one day.

 Of course raising a child does not guarantee the survival of the best humans can offer. We ask ourselves overwhelming questions like...Is it audacious to think that what I can do now can be useful in 10,000 years? Will humans and life forms, as they exist now, even be around in 10,000 years?  Or, what kind of something is important to plant if I will not be the steward of those seedlings? What responsibility am I passing onto someone or someones hoping they too decide it’s worthwhile to keep growing?

 I always return to gratitude for having heart and thought partners to feel through these questions because they’re thoughts worth “moving at the speed of trust” as many in our movements say. Perhaps these aren’t so much doubts, but more of an attempt at loving, self-reflective accountability for actions taken now that will inevitably have ripple effects for our kin in near and far futures.

These thoughts aren’t unique. Many brilliant hearts and minds have been asking the accountable, courageous questions for a long time. Octavia Butler, wrote worlds and struggles and strategies into existence in her prolific writing interventions. I’ve been deeply touched by Adrienne Maree Brown, who has made huge offerings through her collaborations like Octavia’s Brood co-edited with Walidah Imarisha and her book Emergent Strategy, with tools, lessons, reflections and delicious footnotes for us to try, highlighting, among many nuggets of wonder, the ways nature “organizes” to survive. Our social justice movements are experimenting with old and new strategies approaching our current political moment with creativity and love. On Mother’s Day 2018, Southerners on New Ground (SONG), a regional Queer Liberation organization in the South, led “A Labor of Love: Black Mama’s Bail Out Action”.

The action, led by organizers, family members and loving community, released 30 black mamas and caregivers in the thick of money bail systems that for too long have targeted and preyed on working class people of color. SONG addressed the devastating racial and gendered impacts of growing U.S carceral systems on black mamas and black people in a collective action that changed the “flowers and cards” Mother’s Day Holiday into a platform for love and change making. Black Lives Matter and #MeToo have taken us on journeys, leveraging celebrity platforms, grounding us in the power of direct action and reminding us of the power that STILL lives in storytelling. In Brooklyn, New York, a small loving team of queer women and people of color bicycle riders started BiciNinxs, a summer cycling camp for brown and black girls ages 8-12, offering a space to learn how to ride, build, and maintain a bike and care for each other. @cycle.bici raised 5K to run three camps with over 20 girls in Summer 2018 funded through a grassroots fundraising campaign! These efforts seemingly large and small are all HUGE. Whether the work is largely visible or seen only in our homes, down the block, at church or at the farm, many are believing in an us now, and building for an us tomorrow.

 I don’t know if Armida knew the impact she would have on my life. As I honor her memory in the simple mundane acts of humaness she offered, creating the most joyful glittery aspects of my childhood, I think about the ripple effects we experience in our short lifetimes and wonder if maybe what we can pass on as future ancestors, lives in the lessons offered to us everyday in the complex contradicting simplicity of being alive. Armida loved me. Made a home out of sand and ocean water for both of us to live our joy. Her love is not a social justice movement that everyone knows. But in my childhood riddled with harsh and trauma, her love WAS justice. Her love, like the love that grounds our movements and inspires us to keep trying even and especially when we fail is what deserves our awareness and thoughtful attention. It’s the reason I dare to dream about parenting.

 Becoming a mother to Xol one day is bold in this time of such hurt. To have these dreams, commit to them, and do is the work of believing. Trust. The work of love. I write about Xol, speak of and to Xol often. I used to think I needed to keep Xol to myself, like uttering their name would spoil their arrival, but they came in a dream almost a decade ago and named themselves (They/Them is pronoun I use on purpose as I would like to support Xol in deciding how they want to be gendered.) I know now Xol is an ancestor returning, an ancestor I’m welcoming into this world with words like I do with veladoras and cempazuchitil flowers on Dia de Los Muertos for our dead. The more I speak of them, the more they become.

 The world I believe in and love is like the baby Xol I believe in and love- I’ve never seen or touched either of them, but I’m committed to being part of the dreaming, plotting and loving that brings them both into existence.

 As we begin 2019, I’m setting intentions to continue this parenting/world dreaming in conversation with loving community.

 Below is a list of writings, guides, podcasts, and brilliance that has continued to help shape these thoughts and held space for courageous questions:

●      Parenting for Liberation

●      The Big “We” Podcast

●      How to Survive the End of the World Podcast

●      Leaving Evidence by Mia Mingus

●      Movement Strategy Center

●      Caracol Crxcuzando

The Era of the Witch

I could not quite say what it was about 2017 that brought witches to mind. Pop culture references might have triggered it (looking at you Samantha Bee and Broad City). There was also that horror/not horror/scarily accurate movie The Witch.

Now, now, hold it right there. Yes, you, panicking about another damn feminist polemic. While I wear the feminist badge proudly, this is not a feminist piece. It might ring more true for those on the feminine spectrum, yes. Still, I would suggest the amount of fear you feel reading these opening paragraphs is about how much you need to read them. It will go a long way to help us both understand the rage of many of the people in our lives. Perhaps it will even explain your own rage. All I know is that something must change about the way we use the word ‘witch’.

I take it back; perhaps this all started with a book I read. Most things do. It was Witches, Sluts, Feminists by Kristen J. Sollee. While it focused on the history of witchcraft in Europe and North America, Sollee’s main argument was that ‘slut’ is the new ‘witch’. There was always something sexually charged about calling a woman a ‘witch’, a threat to wholesome society. These days, ‘slut’ takes on that particular role. Both words have been used to police the out-spoken, the empowered and the sex-positive. Many have swung from a rope or have burned at a stake for little less than being different over the centuries. It was uplifting to read the stories of folks reclaiming ‘witch’ and ‘slut’ as their own.

Reading Sollee’s book resonated with me as I spent time with my own family in the Old Country. I was in that precarious space of unmarried and 30. So my family talked to me and about me differently. I am a mixed kid who has had the privilege of travel so I know that an unmarried woman above a certain age is always viewed as some kind of threat. As I adjusted to this new way of being seen, I started to notice a theme in the stories about my non-male relatives. I had always accepted as fact that grandma was ‘mean’ and grandpa was ‘gentle’. My father’s family is a matriarchy since the person with the highest authority is a nun. But only technically, since a nun sacrifices gender and sex for eternal service to the Big G in the Sky. My family accepts the nun as powerful because she is not a woman anymore. Grandma, well, she was mean. The most I could learn about Grandma was that she was into ‘spiritism’. This immediately made me interested. I found instead that my family wanted me to understand that ‘mean’ women mess with the spirits, and vice versa. Beyond that, mouths clamped shut.

Allow me to keep track of the words: Witch. Slut. Spiritist.

To my family’s dismay, I started to take city buses. I cannot resist public transportation, no matter how dangerous. Who does not want to go upwards of 20 miles for cents on the dollar? It also gave me time with another book on this journey: Headscarves and Hymens: Why the Middle East Needs a Sexual Revolution by Mona Eltahawy. Eltahawy is a polarizing figure in the Middle East. Since her incendiary article in Foreign Policy, critics have called her many things. Many of the critiques of her article are fair. Misogyny is not inherent in Islam, a point she is careful to make in Headscarves and Hymens. So let me be clear here as well: no one’s country or religion makes them a terrible human being. If someone does not treat people well, it is likely due to a history of abuse, ignorance or patriarchy.

Eltahawy takes issue with certain interpretations of Islamic law and those clerics who use it to oppress others. She has never stopped being a Muslim woman and continues to practice her faith while still identifying as a feminist. She was all anyone could talk about for a solid part of 2012. She sparked an important conversation, nonetheless. Respect must be shown to the ‘mad’ woman who calls out injustice, even if she is on her own. After all, don’t we all go a bit mad when we aren’t listened to?

Witch. Slut. Spiritist. Mad.

On those brand new buses into the city, I cried reading Eltahawy’s words. She has always been unafraid to call the discriminatory personal status laws in the Middle East and North Africa hatred. These are laws that cover family issues such as marriage, divorce, child custody, and inheritance. What concerns Eltahawy and many other human rights critics is that these laws are biased against women, queer folx and free speech. They vary between region, country and cleric. In severe cases, women are required to marry their rapists. Generally, they are wards of their fathers or husbands. Sex outside of marriage is illegal across the region, particularly if it is queer. Consequences for free speech and political dissent have, of course, grown stronger since 2011.

Do not be mistaken, I was not crying because I was reading about gender discrimination on a bus in the Sahara. And believe me, there are an overwhelming number of incidents of sexual harassment on buses and train cars like it. I cried because I had lived that discrimination, even as a first-generation American. Hate may be legal in the cities of North Africa but it lived in the White Baptist halls of the schools I went to in the United States of America. I cried from bearing the weight of that hateful gaze no matter where I was.

Since I have been back in these United States, it has become harder and harder to deny how heavy that weight is. The Supreme Court confirmation hearings, for example, have been pure spectacle. Citizens have a right to judge all public servants based on their treatment of those more vulnerable than they are. We rarely do that, though. Private conversations in kitchens and coffee shops do not count. I mean actually holding our representatives, our colleagues, our bosses, our friends to account for how they treat others. Yes, #MeToo and all that but, have you noticed how hard it is to make the accused face actual consequences?

It is difficult to make someone face their mistakes. The more public, the more like a circus it becomes. I will be a tad bit more US-centric here: it has been difficult to charge anyone in the Trump administration with anything. By anything, I mean the full spectrum of tax evasion to rape. I mention this because of how many times I have heard someone in that circus say the word ‘witch-hunt’. I had trouble understanding who exactly the witches were: were they the ones who accuse or were they the ones being accused? It was a special kind of twisted to hear wealthy, prominent white men compare their public scrutiny to a hate crime. That is what witch-hunts are folks:hate crimes. Guess what? The numbers do not support the idea that prominent white men are being hunted.

This graph was originally printed in The Economist but don’t let the article fool you. Take a look at how hate crime rates have grown since 2015.

I am left with the same question: who were the witches? The numbers in the graph above would suggest they weren’t white men in 2015, especially in the United States.

A portion of the infographic published by the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe’s (OSCE) Office for Democratic Institutions and Human Rights (ODIHR).

If we take a more global look, the Office for Democratic Institutions and Human Rights shows that the most hunted were not women in 2016. Many identified as women, many did not, most were queer, and a great deal were brown or black. Humanity has so much fear and hate for more than just women who are different. What was it exactly that they had for us to be afraid of?

It is strange, but the word that comes to mind is power. Humans are tribal and more often than not, we kill or maim what we are afraid of. Sometimes, for brief beautiful moments in time, we rally together and rage against hate crimes and turn the world upside down. Sometimes, we stop hunting witches and we become them.

I would like to add another word to that list I was keeping track of: Witch. Slut. Spiritist. Mad. Revolutionary. That is what I ask those of you who feel rage and dismay to become. If you are feared for being different, for simply being what you know in your soul you are, you are a witch. You are a revolutionary. You have the power to protect one another. You have the power to create community. You have the power to reject courts and systems that do not serve you. You and I are the ones who grant them authority. Let us not do that anymore, shall we? Our time will be much better spent creating.

The Cause

Here at The Turn Left, we’ve thought a lot about causes. Name one and we’ve mulled over it, gotten involved in it, attended conferences on it, or penned scholarly papers about it. No matter what it is, it’s in a long line and someone from the cause in front likely said, “Wait your turn”. You know the activists I mean: the environmentalists who don’t think it’s the right moment for LGBTQ+ rights or LGBTQ+ activists who refuse to acknowledge misogynoir.

So, we decided to have a 'chat' about causes. Are they really mutually exclusive?

Myriam: The more time I spend in cause-based life, the more I find that whatever rifts come between activists have only somewhat to do with The Cause. We recreate the idea that there is so little space, money, time, or resources that it is impossible to truly share equally. This is the lie our institutions tell us and precisely the lie we fight when we ask for equal rights or safety for minorities.

Inevitably, when passionate people come together, they disagree. In activist communities those disagreements become huge debates over white privilege or misogyny—both of which do play huge roles in how we speak to each other and decide what actions to take. I find that we hide personal spats behind the big ideas. Sometimes, it really is a simple failure of humanity between colleagues that no one apologizes for. Sometimes, it’s a betrayal of one cause for another. More often, it’s both.

Every time, however, it’s almost impossible to tell the difference. I always find myself relieved to be in an activist space in the beginning. The political correctness eventually does start to flake off after long hours painting signs. Each time I find myself asking: Why do we still believe the lie?

Sandra: I see what you mean about this idea that resources are perceived as limited. This could be a holdover from the 'spaceship Earth' idea touted by Buckminster Fuller (see Adam Curtis’ documentary All Watched Over By Machines of Loving Grace), but I think it also makes us realise that HOW terms and concepts come about is also problematic. For example people have to identify under the term 'minority' for their grievances to be legitimised in the eyes of large bodies such as the government (see the work of Saba Mahmood).

Buckminster Fuller had to convince people to think of Earth as a self-contained ship in space just so that people would start being more environmentally conscious (or so Adam Curtis tells us in All Watched Over By Machines of Loving Grace). I think activists don't always educate themselves outside their given cause, adding to your point and making it easier to keep things personal. There's nothing wrong with being personally attached to the cause you are pursuing; I prefer that to people who are just 'there', but it is super important to do the background reading. That enables you to see how things are interconnected and maybe avoid this hiding of personal spats behind big ideas. 

At the same time I think the latter point may involve an element of selflessness people do not always possess. We are living in an age where people have the freedom to express themselves in new and different ways (and reap the sometimes horrifying consequences), but what I find myself wondering often is how to translate that expression into action that those in power will actually respond to. We get very bogged down in the details of what and how we want things to change for our given cause, and in so doing fail to see the commonalities with other causes. So maybe the problem is that there is so much information out there that people do not always realise the ways in which resources are not limited? Maybe it is also the argument made about people becoming trapped in their own bubbles and not actively seeking people who have different ideas? 

Myriam: I agree, there’s a lot of history and theory that goes alongside movements. I am worried here, though, about the division between those who read and those who do not read. Movements often prize those with education over others and it doesn’t always protect the movement from division. Those leaders should be careful what knowledge is treasured and not allow their movements to be divided along lines of privilege. 

To be clear, I’m not looking down my nose at reading. I don’t know where I’d be without the books I’ve had access to. I just want to keep in mind that book-learnin' is yet another way we divide our efforts. There are many different ways to learn and we should use them all. Chief among those is empathy. How many training manuals are there out there for empathy? I know the works of Paolo Freire and bell hooks aren’t chiefly concerned with empathy but there must be others like them whose work has been translated into dozens of languages.

There are a lot of bubbles and echo chambers. We should have more exposure to different models of governance and organization…and find ways to build consensus properly. We are socialized to seek hierarchy, to reproduce hierarchy. Or even that the best will naturally rise to the top, to trust in the meritocracy. We dive deep into our causes because we have seen that this is not true: we don’t all start life with equal chances at success so how can we really tell who is the best?

We need to train ourselves to think differently, to plan differently. It scares me how difficult it is for me to break those simple patterns in my own work. Who can we learn from?

Sandra: This can be dangerous territory as this is how some people see the divide between left and right extremes in the US—those that read and those that don’t. I am not saying that this is what you are talking about, but I just wanted to be clear for our readers’ sakes. I wonder though—if everyone read to atleast a certain minimum, would we still call it a hierarchy or try to pursue one? What if we ensured that everyone read the same things or atleast the same variety of things?

Absolutely reading is not the only way to learn—knod at Tim Ingold and embodied learning (see his book The Perception of the Environment: Essays on Livelihood, Dwelling and Skill)—but sometimes when people have different experiences based on, for example, skin colour it may be a medium that has to be relied on. There are still some experiences people cannot have, and that is where both reading and talking to people can be helpful. In that sense, what if we all knew how to build/make things? What if we engaged in more projects that involved learning through doing/experiencing alongside people who were different to us in some way?  

I agree entirely that there should not be a division between those who read and those who do not, and there may be a bit of ego that needs to be overcome there. There is an assumption that people cannot communicate or that if they can they can do so only to certain point. So how do we overcome this? And what about how people divide themselves over causes? I admit I have my moments of preferring animals and environmental work over working with humans, but that has yet to stop me from working with humans. How do we get to a point where the majority of people can see the overlaps between the environment, the feminist struggle, struggles of peoples of colour and so on until the end of the list?

Because it is all bound up in the personal, what people have read, and what they believe the world to be. It may also boil down to what some are willing to do in the realm of acceptability. There is what people do so others see them doing it, and what people do and think for themselves...aand suddenly we find ourselves in the territory of morals and values which is a whole other conversation.

Myriam: Practically, I think we have to start making cooperative spaces. We have to train ourselves to think differently. That may mean expanding our realm of experience with other people’s stories, written or otherwise. That may mean actually taking or crafting courses that focus on building consensus and facilitation. Learn from the moments in history where goals and leadership were shared rather than the moments they all fell apart. 

Personally, I’ve wanted to learn more about federations of the First Nations such as the Iroquois and other systems of governance. There is more to history than what happened in Ancient Greece and Rome. Not to discredit the classics, mind you, we just need to create more space for the actual history of the WORLD. 

Everyone I’ve ever met in politics or activism is tired of the way things are but so few take the extra step to make actual changes. In some ways, we need a complete system overhaul: decentralized leadership, mentorship, consensus building, and ALL the trainings. We have to learn what the new world can look like if we’re trying to build it. Boldly going blindly with only the status quo behind us is too slow going. For the poor, the marginalized, the economically vulnerable, we have no more time to waste.

Sandra: You know what? I think WE are the solution to this! In a serious vein though, what specifically would training ourselves to think differently look like? I think looking outside the histories taught in schools is crucial, especially as it enables us to think about the different ways we have come to be where we are socially and politically, and it reminds us that we are dealing with issues and modes of being that are not linear but hypercomplicated.

To push your points further, Greek and Roman history and philosophy have varying influences on global historical trajectories, and overshadow the impact of Indian, Arab, African (plural) and East Asian histories to name a few. Also, this ties back into your earlier points about empathy and destabilising hierarchy, which then ties into ongoing attempts to decolonize different institutions alongside decolonial projects. Moving towards existing groups and organizations, maybe it would be helpful for groups who target multiple ‘causes’ to re-stress the overlaps between all causes, to coax people out of their specific corners? To teach across and around rather than top down? Everyone IS tired, but in addition to not acting people often do not know how to act, or think their actions won’t make a difference anyway (another issue touched upon in an Adam Curtis documentary). 

I sometimes think of it like a post-apocalyptic world: everything has been supposedly destroyed and torn down, but people still carry the structures and institutions of the ‘old’ world with them. They cling to them for a sense of stability and comfort. When I was a child I was asked to design my own country and government. So, how would we, as a plural, hybrid, hyper complicated people, design our own country? A system overhaul means stepping into the unknown and the potentially unknowable, but we can’t know where that boundary lies if we do not try to step across it. 

Avoiding Social Gaffes and Environmental Disasters

Has the political climate got you down? Anxious about hurricane season? Worried about the carbon footprint of avocado toast?  Well, sometimes we feel that way too. Allow us to soothe some of your concern with the following primer on how to be a decent human in the pre-Apocalypse.

What is Kombucha* Anyway?: Social Exchanges

-          Try to see everything from more than one perspective. This is called empathy. It will serve you well.

-          Introducing yourself or being introduced to someone is always a good point at which to ask someone what they wish to be called or what pronoun they prefer.

-          When people ask how you are, it is usually polite to reply and ask them how they are as well. This includes non-verbal communication such as e-mails. It is also a good idea to listen to what they say when you ask.

-          If you have a burning question that you are afraid to ask because it may be offensive, perhaps it is better asked to Google first. Google, DuckDuckGo, not 4chan.

-          If you are having trouble paying attention to what someone is saying to you, repeat what they are saying to yourself inside your own head.

-          The only way you can consider someone an exception to a race, gender, etc, would be if you had ACTUALLY MET every single person in that category. In other words, it is NEVER ok to call someone ‘an exception for your [insert category here]’. Be proactive and meet more people who are different from you.

-          Potentially problematic burning questions aside, it is a good idea to ask people questions about themselves. It is generally not problematic to ask questions like “What kind of music to you like?” or “What kind of hobbies do you have?”. “What are you?” or others like it are not acceptable questions. Do not phrase questions to confirm your assumptions.

-          Fruit is exotic. People are not.

-          As much as is possible, do the things you say you will do. People, friends, and Cambridge Analytica will appreciate it.

*Kombucha is essentially living tea made from scobee cultures and herbs/spices du jour. The point being: it’s good for your gut and hopefully these tips will be too.

You Can’t Hug Your Child with Nuclear Arms: Environmental Care

-          Try to avoid plastic if you can. It suffocates animals, poisons humans and doesn’t die.

-          The portable shetafa/bidet will change your life.

-          You’ve probably heard you should use coal, gas and oil sparingly. You know what else should be on that list? Water. For examples see Cape Town.

-          Reusables are your friend. The takeaway shop won’t look at you too weirdly if you show up with your own containers for food. Anyway, they’ll eventually stop looking at you weirdly.

-          Building or making your own things can be fun. Chances are it will save you money.

-          Invest in things that last and/or can be repaired. Outdoor clothing companies are grand at mending things you buy from them. We can encourage more to follow suit if we reward those companies with our money.

-          Electricity is a luxury that we share with our neighbors on a grid. Always know where your fuse box is, and maybe look up how the wiring of basic household objects works.

-          Toolboxes are handy. No not just the ones for building websites.

-          It really is a good idea to learn to grow your own food. Plants have natural complements that can make less work for you, act as a repellent to pests and replenish the soil.

-          Make use of public transportation. The more you use it, the more you have a right to complain and force local governments to make them better.

-          Vinegar, sometimes with baking soda, can disinfect, clean and unclog most things. Also good for deodorant and mosquito bites. There are alternatives to many if all of the toxic products that you may have for cleaning. They are healthier for you, your pets, your tiny humans and the environment. Have a Google, enjoy yourself.

-          While we are on the topic of things toxic, here’s another freebie: lemongrass, citronella, eucalyptus and lime oil make good general repellents. Much safer for you than DEET.

Ce nu am învățat în școală din istorie dar ar fi trebuit

Autori: Valer Simion Cosma Cercetător la Centrul de Cercetare în Umanistică HAS, Institutul de Etnografie, Budapesta (Ungaria) Centrul pentru studierea modernității și a lumii rurale

Ágota Ábrán Doctorand la Universitatea din Aberdeen, Scoția, Departamentul de antropologie socială Centrul pentru studierea modernității și a lumii rurale

Partea I. Istorie

Când Valer a intrat în liceu în 2000, a prins încă vechile manuale, modificate la începutul epocii post-socialiste, primii ani a manualelor alternative și schimbările de abordare determinate de negocierile de aderare la NATO și Uniunea Europeană. Se ieșea lent din paradigma izolaționistă, a cetății veșnic asediată și hăituită de vecini lacomi – în special maghiarii și turcii – a provinciilor românești ca bastion al creștinătății în fața invaziei musulmane și a istoriei construită în jurul idealului „de veacuri” al unirii tuturor românilor într-un singur stat, pentru a se preda o istorie în care aspirația spre unitate era dublată de idealul europenizării României. Brusc, faptele de vitejie ale unor vajnici apărători ai ortodoxiei și românității, precum Ștefan cel Mare (devenit și Sfânt în anii postcomunismului) erau privite în context european și dublate de înțeleptele lor acțiuni într-ale diplomației și relațiilor internaționale. În relațiile cu ungurii regelui Mathias – în continuare prezentat drept cel mai mare rege al maghiarilor, dar român la origine – începeau să iasă la suprafață alianțele și înțelegerile strategice, deși profesorii insistau în continuare asupra meciurilor cîștigate de ai noștri și a injustei prezențe și dominații asupra Transilvaniei.

Pe partea cealaltă, Ágota, care a intrat într-un liceu doar cu clase maghiare, compliment a UDMR-ului, în 2004, încă își amintește cum una dintre primele lucruri pe care le-a auzit de la profesorul ei de istorie a fost cum el trebuie să le predea versiunea oficială română a istoriei, o istorie neadevărată în opoziție cu versiunea „măreață” și adevărată maghiară. Ca o unguroaică din Ardeal aceste dezbateri de „istorie aridă” despre românii care sunt sau nu sunt descendenții dacilor și romanilor locuind în bazinul carpatic înainte de venirea triburilor maghiare în perioada cuceririlor între 800-1000 e.n., au intrat în conversații de timpuriu pentru copii, iar școala nu părea să dea nicio nuanță a unei istorii viciate de agendele naționaliste pe ambele părți. Și mai rău, în timp ce istoria din școală părea să se blocheze la recapitularea datelor de război, construirea națiunilor politice, modernitatea Europeană, și în general țările și națiunile tratate ca entități întregi și omogene, cu sape viclene ocazionale de la profesori despre uniunea din 1918, n-am învățat niciodată să apreciem complexitatea și problemele a diverselor etnicități, minorităților confesionale, diviziunilor de clasă, luptele pentru drepturi și putere. Pe măsură ce școala a aplatizat unele conflicte și diviziuni dinăuntrul țării și a scos în evidență altele, orientându-se spre o imagine a României într-o evoluție lineară spre civilizație și progres occidental, în postul acesta ne confruntăm cu câteva subiecte care au fost omise din curriculum și consecințele lor distructive.

Țărani contra națiuni

O istorie axată pe diferitele agende a construirii națiunii a ratat astfel problemele produse de diferențele de clasă și de economie în timp ce acestea se desfășurau lângă și se intersectau cu cele etnice. Pe de altă parte am învățat despre reformele Europene culturale și științifice, despre locul României între Orient și Occident, și cum țara a ieșit dintre aceste istorii ca un întreg, modernizarea și Europenizarea fiind sfârșitul de succes a acestei evoluții. Rareori am învățat sau am înțeles orice despre inegalitățile rigide și jocurile de putere dintre iobagi, țărani, comercianți și aristocrația. Ce sa întâmplat cu răscoalele țărănești din secolul al XV-lea din Transilvania, suprimate de nobilimea maghiară, de secui și de sași, care au format Unio Trium Nationum, în apărarea împărăției, o unire îndreptată în mod explicit împotriva țărănimii? Prin urmare, a exclus din participarea politică țărănimea predominant de limbă română, creștin ortodoxă. Nici nu am contemplat locul țărilor românești în Europa în nici un fel decât prin lupta împotriva Imperiului Otoman și lupta pentru europenizare. Cu toate acestea, în 1866, după revoluțiile din 1848-1849, când compromisul sa născut între Ungaria și Imperiul Austriac, iar Transilvania anterior autonomă a fost atașat la Ungaria, Transilvania a devenit periferia dezindustrializată, producătoare de materii prime ieftine pentru terenurile centrale ungare care au văzut o industrializare rapidă, Transilvania astfel devenind dependent de capitalul străin. În același timp, a apărut o diferență radicală între un Vest industrializat rapid și Europa de Est în principal agrară, explicată de istorici sociali, prin conceptul de „a doua iobăgie”. Industrializarea și creșterea populației pe tot cuprinsul Europei au sporit cererea pentru culturile de cereale, în timp ce în Europa de Vest terenul rezervate pentru astfel de culturi au scăzut. Privind spre Europa Centrală și de Est pentru producția alimentară, țările Europei Occidentale au creat cererea de producție agricolă ca marfă pe o piață mondială, mai degrabă decât pentru o economie de subzistență. Această economie capitalistă a creat spațiul pentru proprietarii de mari pământuri din Europa Centrală și de Est, să leagă țăranii de pământ, reducând drepturile la proprietate și libera circulație. Acest fenomen de a doua iobăgie astfel a apărut pentru prima dată în partea estică a teritoriilor dominate de Germania, la mijlocul secolului al XV-lea, apoi sa răspândit în Polonia, Boemia, Moravia și Ungaria în cea de-a XVI-a parte a Austriei în cea de-a XVII-a și în cele din urmă Rusia țaristă, Țara Românească și Moldova în secolele al XVIII-lea și al XIX-lea.

Dacă în anii comunismului, mai ales în faza naționalistă din ultimele două decenii, unitatea de cuget și simțiri a neamului se construia oarecum în continuare în jurul unui fel de luptă de clasă între țărănimea (mai apoi se va adăuga și proletariatul) aflată într-o alianță cu voievozi animați de profunde idealuri patriotice și boierimea lacomă, mereu dispusă la trădare și interesată doar să-și prezerve și multiplice privilegiile, indiferent cărei puteri vecine ar închina țara, în epoca următoare lupta de clasă devine un subiect tabu, o aberație marxistă impusă în anii în care comunismul impus din afară a căutat să falsifice istoria. Boierimea revine treptat în prim-plan, alături de Ortodoxie, de asemenea element-cheie în circumscrierea ADN-ului național și pavăză a identității naționale în fața succesivelor valuri de deznaționalizare (a se citi maghiarizare și a se avea în vedere în special cazul românilor ardeleni). Mai apoi se face loc și greco-catolicilor și a rolului acestora în procesul de construire a națiunii moderne, descris multă vreme ca proces de „redeșteptare a conștiinței naționale” și re-cuplare a românilor la Europa. Clasa nu are loc în această narativă, nici în privința descrierilor raporturilor interne ale comunităților românești, nici în descrierea raporturilor inter-etnice din lumea transilvăneană. Românii - majoritar țărani - atunci cînd nu se lasă maghiarizați și nu-și leapădă credința strămoșească (ortodoxă, desigur), cum s-a întîmplat cu familiile nobiliare românești în evul mediu, sunt exploatați fără milă și supuși unor constante hăituieli identitare și religioase. Cînd nu este ocultat rolul maghiarilor în impunerea limbii române în slujirea bisericească și în apariția primelor traduceri de texte sfinte și bisericești în limba română (în contextul reformei protestante), acest aspect este menționat ca o manevră parșivă, anti-ortodoxă și, implicit, anti-românească.

Europenizare: civilizarea României

Dorința de apartenență la lumea civilizată, întruchipată de Europa Occidentală, reprezintă coordonata principală pe care s-a structurat procesul de nation-building în cazul românilor, încă de la finele secolului al XVIII-lea. Idealul unei națiuni europene, a „intrării în Europa” sau al probării europenității noastre rămîne o obsesie a mediului politic, cultural și civic autohton inclusiv în zilele noastre. Această descoperire a europenității/cuplare la civilizația occidentală a presupus desprinderea de Orientul în care am fost ținuți de ocupația otomană vreme de secole, conform narativei standard, iar această schimbare e prezentată ca derulîndu-se pe două mari coordonate. Pe de o parte este evidențiată importanța cărturturarilor români iluminiști din Transilvania habsburgică grupați de posteritate sub numele de Școala Ardeleană. Contribuția lor la latinizarea limbii române, la apariția primelor dicționare și scrieri istorice care să pună în lumină latinitatea românilor este legată de înființarea bisericii greco-catolice și de înființarea primelor instituții de învățămînt superior pentru români. A doua coordonată, dinspre Principate, evidențiază rolul primelor generații de boieri școliți în Occident, în special în Franța, care au determinat o serie de schimbări ireverersibile în societatea românească. Bonjuriștii, cum ironic au fost denumiți în epocă, ar fi cei care ar fi impus franțuzirea limbii române și o serie de schimbări de vestimentație și moravuri, după moda occidentală. Din această narativă lipsește ceva esențial. Deși rolul „bonjuriștilor” nu este deloc neglijabil, se omite sau în cel mai bun caz se minimalizează rolul rușilor în acest proces. În timpul perioadelor de ocupație și protectorat rusesc din ultimele decenii ale secolului al XVIII-lea și prima jumătate a secolului următor, limba și literatura franceză, alături de moda occidentală și mai apoi de coduri de legi de inspirație franceză au fost aduse în cele două principate, rușii percepîndu-se pe sine ca reprezentanți ai civilizației europene civilizînd un teritoriu dominat de moravuri și mode asiatice. Cu toate acestea, după revoluția 1989 în relatările istorice a europenizării influențele rusești au scăzut din favoare, la fel ca orice influențe orientale.

Când România nu a fost victimă, ci vinovată: etniiPrins între narații naționaliste și a modernizării europene, istoria României a ratat și includerea în ea însăși a istoriilor altor etnii. De exemplu, în 1919, 28% dintre cetățenii din întreaga țară aparțineau unor grupuri etnice diferite, iar în recensământul din 2011, 11% dintre cetățeni s-au declarat de altă origine etnică decât românii, dintre care 3,3% s-au declarat a fi romi (deși unii refuză să-și declare etnia sau se declară etnici români). Ceea ce este izbitor în această situație este faptul că am eliminat în mare măsură cetățenii romi din viziunile noastre despre istoria țării. În special în lumina faptului că, până la mijlocul secolului al XIX-lea, în Țara Românească și în Moldova, romii erau sclavi ai mănăstirilor, nobililor și regelui. În Transilvania, în mod similar, unii romi trăiau în condiții de sclavie, în timp ce alții erau „iobagi regali” dependenți de rege, deși aveau un statut etnic autonom și trăiau sub autoritatea voievozilor lor. Un film lansat în 2015, intitulat Aferim!, regizat de Radu Jude, povestește despre un polițist din Țara Românească din secolul al XIX-lea care e angajat să găsească un sclav rom fugar. Antropologul Vintilă Mihăilescu analizează cum la una dintre proiecțiile filmului, în discuția ulterioară, cineva și-a exprimat sentimentul că filmul este oarecum "exotic". Exotic, el consideră, pentru că există ceva nevăzut sau inexistent în imaginea națiunii: romii ca parte a istoriei națiunii.

[embed]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mmTYOY_jQWc[/embed]

Exotic și pentru că narativa uzuală e despre cum românii au fost exploatați de alții, nu și despre exploatarea altora de către români. Asumarea trecutului sclavagist al societății românești, alături de recuperarea critică a puseelor antisemite de la final de secol XIX și început de secol XX, nu dă bine la mitul cu românii pașnici și toleranți, care i-au primit omenește pe toți „străinii” și care n-au atacat niciodată pe nimeni, dar este necesară. Tot la categoria minorități invizibile sau prea puțin vizibile intră bulgarii și turco-tătarii, mai ales că istoria acestora reflectă ambițiile expansioniste ale tînărului regat român proaspăt ieșit de sub dominația Imperiului Otoman, precum și tragedia reprezentată de schimburile de populații practicate în prima jumătate a secolului al XX din dorința de omogenizare a națiunilor balcanice. În 1994, regizorul român Lucian Pintilie lansa filmul „O vară de neuitat”, ecranizare a unei nuvele din volumul Cronică de Familie (1957) de Petru Dumitriu, despre ocupația românească asupra teritorilor bulgărești (Cadrilaterul) cucerite în 1913, acțiunile represive ale administrației românești și rezistența populației ocupate. Teritoriu locuit în principal de turci și tătari, la care se alătură comunități de bulgari, găgăuzi, greci și români (urmași sedentarizați ai păstorilor mocani), Cadrilaterul este colonizat cu români din Timocul Bulgăresc, aromâni și alte populații românești din Balcani, ponderea populației române crescînd semnificativ (de la 2.3% în 1910 la 26.2% în 1940), însă fără a depăși procentul populației bulgărești (37.8% în 1940) sau turcești (36.1% în 1940).

[embed]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nkIO8tHfAbU[/embed]

Este obișnuit, cel puțin în sălile de clasă, să susținem că istoria este importantă pentru a învăța din ea. Cu toate acestea, cum ar trebui să învățăm dintr-o istorie la care ne uităm prin lentilele colorate roz ale națiunilor noastre? Istoria pe care am învățat-o în școală a omogenizat națiunile și a aplatizat distincțiile economice, în timp ce a redus diversitățile etnice. În aceeași timp ea a oferit un discurs de modernizare și europenizare, care a eliminat din nou rețelele de putere economice dintre țări și clase. Suntem conștienți de faptul că numeroasele exemple periculoase despre relatările istorice prea simplificate nu pot fi rezumate într-un post atât de scurt. Aiciam vrut să evidențiem modul în care istoria pe care o învățăm în școală nu are doar un scop particular dar e ș dăunătoare. Creează ostilitate între oameni fără a da explicații reale despre istoricitatea stării actuale, astfel creând populații invizibile din punct de vedere istoric și denigrați din punct de vedere social.

Resurse

Achim, Viorel. Țiganii În Istoria României. București: Editura Enciclopedică, 1998.

Boatcă, Manuela. “Peripheral Solutions to Peripheral Development: The Case of Early 20th Century Romania.” Journal of World-Systems Research XI, no. I (July 2005): 3–26.

Boatcă, Manuela. “Second Slavery vs. Second Serfdom: Local Labor Regimes of the Global Periphery.” In Social Theory and Regional Studies in the Global Age, edited by Said Amir Arjomand, 361–88. SUNY Press, 2014.

Cosma, Valer Simion. “Obsesia Europenității. Revizitînd Începuturile Națiunii Române,” November 6, 2017. http://ligaoamenilordeculturabontideni.blogspot.com/2017/11/obsesia-europenitatii-revizitind.html.

Drace-Francis, Alex. Geneza Culturii Române Moderne. Instituţiile Scrisului Şi Dezvoltarea Identităţii Naţionale (1700-1900). Translated by Marius-Adrian Hazaparu. Iași: Poliron, 2016[1988].

Kligman, Gail, and Katherine Verdery. Peasants under Siege: The Collectivization of Romanian Agriculture, 1949-1962. Princeton University Press, 2011.

Kürti, László. “Transylvania, Land beyond Reason: Toward an Anthropological Analysis of a Contested Terrain.” Dialectical Anthropology 14, no. 1 (March 1, 1989): 21–52.

Scurtu, I. “Minorități Naționale Din România În Anii 1918-1925.” In Minorități Naționale Din România 1918-1925. Documente, edited by I. Scurtu and L. Boar, 7–14. București: Arhivele Statului din România, 1995.

Stahl, Henri H. Traditional Romanian Village Communities: The Transition from the Communal to the Capitalist Mode of Production in the Danube Region. Cambridge University Press, 1980.

Verdery, Katherine. Transylvanian Villagers: Three Centuries of Political, Economic, and Ethnic Change. University of California Press, 1983.

Things We Didn’t Learn but Should Learn in Schools in Romania

Authors: Valer Simion Cosma Researcher at HAS Research Centre for the Humanities, Institute of Ethnography in Budapest (Hungary) Center for the Study of Modernity and the Rural World

Ágota Ábrán PhD student at the University of Aberdeen, Scotland, Department of Social Anthropology Center for the Study of Modernity and the Rural World

Part I. History

Valer started high-school in the year 2000 so he caught the old textbooks that were modified at the beginning of the post-socialist era. These were the first years of the alternative textbooks and the changes mirrored attitudes determined by the adherence negotiations to NATO and the European Union. Slowly, Romania was exiting the isolationist paradigm that saw the country as a fortress forever besieged and haunted by its greedy neighbours, especially the Hungarians and the Turks. School expanded our vision of the country as a bastion of Christianity opposing the Muslim invasions, in a history constructed around the century old ideal of the unification of all Romanians into a single state, with the ideal of Romania’s Europeanisation. Suddenly, the heroic deeds of the great defenders of Orthodoxy and Romanianity, such as Stephen the Great – Ștefan cel Mare, voivode of Moldavia from 1457 to 1504, who also became Saint in the years of post-communism – have been envisioned in the European context. This vision amplified their role as wise diplomats with ingenuity in international relations. History classes started to present even the Hungarian king Mathias – king between 1458–1490, portrayed as the greatest Hungarian king, but of Romanian origin –through his newly re-surfaced alliances and strategic agreements. Meanwhile, the professors still insisted on such diplomatic matches won by the Romanians while emphasising the injustice of the Hungarian presence and dominance over Transylvania.

On the other side, Ágota, who started an all Hungarian high-school in 2004 in Transylvania, ‘compliments’ of the Democratic Alliance of Hungarians in Romania party, still remembers one of the first things she was told by her history professor. He went into a tangent about how he had to teach them the official Romanian version of history, an untrue version as opposed to the ‘oh so mighty’ true Hungarian version. As a Hungarian speaker from Transylvania such ‘barren historical’ debates about whether Romanians were the descendants of the Daco-Roman populations living in the area before the Hungarian tribes arrived in the Carpathian Basin during the period of Conquests (roughly 800-1000 AD) entered conversations early on for children. School did not seem to give any nuance to a history tainted by nationalistic agendas on both sides. Worse still, we never learned to appreciate the diverse complexities and issues of the different ethnic, confessional, and class divides, struggles for rights and power. History in school seemed to get stuck at recapitulating dates of wars, understanding political nation building, European modernity, and generally treated the country and nation as a whole. This was infused with the occasional sly dig from the professors at whether it was a cause for celebration or mourning when Transylvania became part of the Romanian Kingdom in 1918.As school flattened out some conflicts and divides inside the Romanian countries while emphasising others, and aimed at painting Romania in a linear evolution towards Western civilisation and progress, in this post we grapple with some topics that were omitted from our curriculum and their destructive consequences.

Peasants versus nations

A history focused on different nation building agendas missed the issues produced by class and economic divides as they ran along or intersected ethnic ones. On the contrary, we have learned about the European cultural and scientific reforms, or Romania’s place between the Orient and the Occident, the country emerging from these stories as a whole. In these stories modernisation and Europeanisation became the final and successful end to its evolution. We have seldom learned or understood anything about the stark inequalities and power plays between serfs, peasants, traders, and the aristocracy. What about the peasant rebellions of the 15th century in Transylvania, suppressed by the Hungarian nobility, the Seklers and the Saxons, who formed the UnioTriumNationum, in defence of the kingdom, a Union directed explicitly against the peasantry? This UnioTriumNationum also excluded the mainly Romanian speaking Orthodox Christian peasantry from political participation. Nor did we ever contemplate the place of the Romanian countries in Europe in any other way than fighting the Ottoman Empire and striving for Europeanisation. Yet, when in 1866, after the revolutions of 1848-1849, the Compromise was born between the Hungarian and Austrian Empire, and the formerly autonomous Transylvania was attached to Hungary. Transylvania became the deindustrialised periphery producing cheap raw material for the rapidly industrializing Hungarian mainland, becoming heavily dependent on foreign capital.At the same time, a stark difference emerged between a rapidly industrialising Western and a mainly agrarian Eastern Europe, explained by social historians, through the concept of ‘second serfdom’. Industrialisation and population growth throughout Europe increased the demand for cereal crops, while decreased land available in Western Europe for such cultivations. Looking towards East Central Europe for food production, Western European countries created the demand for agricultural production as a merchandise on a global market, rather than for a subsistence economy. This capitalist economy created the space for large landowners in East Central Europe to tie peasants to land, decreasing rights to property and free movement. This phenomenon of second serfdom, thus, first occurred in the Eastern part of German-dominated territories, in the middle of the 15th century, then spread to Poland, Bohemia, Moravian and Hungary in the 16th, parts of Austria in the 17th and finally Tsarist Russia, Wallachia and Moldavia in the 18th and 19th century.

In the years of communism, especially in its nationalistic phase of the last two decades, historical accounts in school built on a kind of class struggle and meant to unite the nation’s mind and feelings. This struggle presented itself between the peasantry – and later on the proletariat – who found themselves in an alliance with the voivodes animated by profound patriotic ideals, on one side, struggling against the greedy boyars, on the other. The boyars, thus were forever part of betrayals and only interested in preserving and multiplying their privileges in alliance with no matter which neighbouring power subdued the country. However, after the fall of communism class struggle became a taboo subject, seen as a Marxist aberration through which communism imposed from outside sought to falsify history. The role of the boyars as a civilising force started to come to the forefront. Both the boyars and Orthodoxy became a key element of circumscribing the national DNA, shielding the national identity against successive denationalising waves – read: the threat of becoming Hungarian for the Transylvanian Romanians. Later, the Greek Catholic Church entered historical accounts by emphasising their role in the process of constructing a modern nation. For a long time, this was described as the ‘revival of the nation’s consciousness’ and the re-attachment of the Romanians to Europe. Class did not have space in this narrative, therefore, the internal struggles between the Romanian communities and the inter-ethnic relations of the Transylvanian realities were mitigated. For instance, the merciless exploitation and constant identity and religious harassment of the majority peasant Romanians who resisted becoming Hungarian and did not deny their ancestral faith, Orthodoxy in favour of Greek Catholicism – as happened to the Romanian noble families in the Middle Ages – was played down. On the other hand, the role of Hungarians in the imposition of the Romanian language in the church ministry and in the first translated holy and church texts into Romanian (in the context of the Protestant reform) is not obscured. It is mentioned in a tendentious, anti-Orthodox, and explicitly, anti-Romanian manner. Consequently, Romania became ever homogenised in terms of class yet built on the idea of a single nation that belongs to Europe.

Europeanisation: civilising Romania

The desire to belong to the civilised world, embodied by Western Europe, was the support around which the nation-building process was structured in the case of Romanians, even as far as the end of the 18th century. The ideal of a European nation, of ‘entering Europe’ or the trial of our Europeanity remains an obsession in the political, cultural, and civic sphere. This ‘discovery’ of Europeanity aimed at legitimising Romania’s union with the Occident and implied the detachment from the East in which we have been held by the Ottoman occupation for centuries, according to the standard historical narrative. This change was presented through two arguments. The first was the increasing emphasis in historical accounts on the ‘civilising’ effort of the Romanian Enlightenment scholars from Habsburg Transylvania, labelled by posterity the Transylvanian School. Their contribution to the Latinization of the Romanian language, to the appearance of the first dictionaries and historical writings were used to highlight the Latin roots of Romanians. This was also linked to the establishment of the Greek Catholic Church and the first higher education institutions in Romania. The second, coming from the Romanian Principalities, emphasised the role of the first generation of boyars schooled in the Occident, especially in France, as causing a series of irreversible changes in Romanian society. The Bonjourists, as they were ironically named at the time (from the French bon jour), were those who imposed French on the Romanian language, as well as a series of changes in clothing and manners, according to the Western fashion. However, all these narratives lack something essential. Although the role of the ‘Bonjourists’ is not negligible, the role of the Russians in this process is played down at best and totally neglected at worst. During the periods of Russian occupation and protectorate in the last decades of the 18th century and first half of the 19th century, French literature and language, together with Western fashion and later French inspired codes of law were brought into the two Romanian Principalities through the Russians. The Russians perceived themselves as the representatives of European civilisation, and thus civilising a territory dominated by Asian manners and fashions. After the 1989 revolution, however, Russian as much as other Oriental influences fell out of favour in historical accounts of Europeanisation.

When Romania was not a victim but a culprit: ethnicities

Caught between narratives of nationalism and European modernisation, the history of Romania missed the inclusion of other ethnic histories. For instance, in 1919, 28% of the citizens of the whole of Romania belonged to different ethnic groups, and in the census of 2011, 11% of the citizens declared themselves of other ethnic background than Romanian, 3.3% declaring themselves to be Roma – there are suggestions that some refused to declare their ethnic background or declare themselves Romanian ethnic. What is striking in this situation is that Roma citizens have been often erased from visions of the country’s history. Striking especially in the light that until the middle of the 19th century in Wallachia and Moldova, Roma were slaves of monasteries, noblemen, and the king. In Transylvania, similarly, some Roma lived in conditions of slavery, while others were ‘royal serfs’ dependent on the king, although they had an autonomous ethnic status living under the authority of their ‘voivodes’. A movie released in 2015, entitled Aferim!, directed by Radu Jude, tells the story of a policeman in 19th century Wallachia hired to find a runaway Roma slave. The anthropologist Vintilă Mihăilescu, analyses how at one film screening a viewer later described the film as ‘exotic’. Exotic, because the film had something unseen, or non-existent in the nation’s imagery: Roma as part of the history of the nation.[i]

[embed]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mmTYOY_jQWc[/embed]

Exotic also, because the usual historical narrative sees Romanians as having been exploited by others, not Romanians acting as the exploiter. Assuming slavery as part of the past of the Romanian society, together with the critical recovery of the anti-semitic attacks from the end of the 19th and the beginning of the 20th century, it does not fit well within the myth of the peaceful and tolerant Romanians, who have humanely received all ‘foreigners’ and who never attacked anyone. In the category of invisible or less visible minorities also come the Bulgarians and Turkish-Tatars, as their history reflects the expansionary ambitions of the young Romanian kingdom that emerged from the rule of the Ottoman Empire, as well as the population exchange practiced in the first half of the 20th century out of the desire to homogenise the Balkan nations. In 1994, Romanian director Lucian Pintilie released the film ‘An Unforgettable Summer’, after a short-story from the volume ‘Family Chronicle’ by Petru Dumitriu. It related the Romanian occupation of the Bulgarian territories (the Cadrilater) —conquered in 1913 — the repressive actions of the Romanian administration, and the resistance of the occupied population. A territory inhabited mostly by Turks and Tatars, joined by Bulgarian, Gagauz, Greek and Romanian (sedentary descendants of mountain shepherds) communities, the Cadrilater was colonised by Romanians from the Bulgarion Timok. With Aromanians, and other Romanian populations from the Balkans, the share of the Romanian population increasing significantly (from 2.3% in 1910 to 26.2% in 1940), but without exceeding the percentage of the Bulgarian population (37.8% in 1940) or Turkish (36.1% in 1940).

[embed]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nkIO8tHfAbU[/embed]

It is common, at least in classrooms, to argue that history is important in order to learn from it. Yet, how are we to learn from history if we are looking at it through the rose-tinted lenses of our respective nations? The history that school taught us homogenised nations and flattened out economic distinctions, while downplaying ethnic diversity. It also catered to a modernisation and Europeanisation discourse that again erased the economic power-networks between countries and classes. We are aware that the examples of dangerously over-simplified historical accounts cannot be summarised in such a short post. Here, we wanted to highlight how the history we are taught in school does not only have an agenda, but is harmful. It sets people against each other without giving real explanations about how our society came to be, creating historically invisible yet socially denigrated people.

Suggested readings:

Achim, Viorel. Țiganii În IstoriaRomâniei. București: Editura Enciclopedică, 1998.

Boatcă, Manuela. “Peripheral Solutions to Peripheral Development: The Case of Early 20th Century Romania.” Journal of World-Systems Research XI, no. I (July 2005): 3–26.

Boatcă, Manuela. “Second Slavery vs. Second Serfdom: Local Labor Regimes of the Global Periphery.” In Social Theory and Regional Studies in the Global Age, edited by Said Amir Arjomand, 361–88. SUNY Press, 2014.

Cosma, Valer Simion. “Obsesia Europenității. Revizitînd Începuturile Națiunii Române,” November 6, 2017. http://ligaoamenilordeculturabontideni.blogspot.com/2017/11/obsesia-europenitatii-revizitind.html.

Drace-Francis, Alex. The Making of Modern Romanian Culture: Literacy and the Development of National Identity. Reprint edition. London: I.B.Tauris, 2013[1988].

Kligman, Gail, and Katherine Verdery. Peasants under Siege: The Collectivization of Romanian Agriculture, 1949-1962. Princeton University Press, 2011.

Kürti, László. “Transylvania, Land beyond Reason: Toward an Anthropological Analysis of a Contested Terrain.” Dialectical Anthropology 14, no. 1 (March 1, 1989): 21–52.

Scurtu, I. “MinoritățiNaționale Din RomâniaÎnAnii 1918-1925.” In Minorități Naționale Din România 1918-1925. Documente, edited by I. Scurtu and L. Boar, 7–14. București: ArhiveleStatului din România, 1995.

Stahl, Henri H. Traditional Romanian Village Communities: The Transition from the Communal to the Capitalist Mode of Production in the Danube Region. Cambridge University Press, 1980.

Verdery, Katherine. Transylvanian Villagers: Three Centuries of Political, Economic, and Ethnic Change. University of California Press, 1983.

[i]Vintilă Mihăilescu, România exotică (Dilema Veche, 2015), http://dilemaveche.ro/sectiune/situa-iunea/articol/romania-exotica