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Many Americans are deeply troubled
by the often tepid reactions from the Muslim world to the September
11 attacks and by the images of street protests in Muslim countries
against U. S. military actions in Afghanistan. These reactions
have led to a spate of stories in the popular press and television
asking, "Why do they hate us?" and for some they signal the
existence of a clearly defined enemy who, by not signaling that
they were with us, must be against us. Isn't this the clash
of civilizations that Harvard political scientist Samuel Huntington
described almost a decade ago pitting Islam against the west?
As a political psychologist I have been particularly interested
in how people make sense of complex, emotionally powerful events
and why different, seemingly contradictory, accounts of what
seems to be the same event co-exist. These different accounts,
often referred to as narratives, matter for at least three different
reasons that I explore in this short article. First, a narrative's
metaphors and images can tell us a great deal about how individuals
and groups understand the social and political worlds in which
they live. Second, they can reveal deep fears, perceived threats,
and past grievances that drive a conflict. Third, narratives
are important because they sanction certain kinds of action
and not others. For example, defining the September 11 attacks
as an act of war provided support for different kinds of responses
than defining them as a criminal act would have done. By focusing
on narratives I am not dismissing the importance of the structural
features of the contemporary international system or of the
competing interests of different actors. Rather, they are not
my focus in this short article.
First let me say something about what a psychocultural narrative
is and how this concept can help us understand and manage conflict.
Narratives are explanations for events (large and small) in
the form of short, common sense accounts (stories) that often
seem simple. However, the powerful images they contain and the
judgments they make about the motivations and actions of their
own group, and others, are emotionally significant for groups
and individuals. Narratives are not always internally consistent.
For example, they often alternate between portraying one's own
group, as well as an opponent, as strong and portraying them
as vulnerable. Narratives meet a number of different needs people
have. They are especially relevant in times of high uncertainty
and high stress. Just at the moments when people are most disoriented,
such as the period following September 11, we struggle to make
sense of events, and shared narratives which are reinforced
within groups help people find reassurance and to cope with
high anxiety. Groups with divergent beliefs and experiences
construct different narratives of the same event. However, it
is crucial to understand that narratives are not made from whole
cloth but are grounded in selectively remembered and interpreted
experiences and projections from them. Finally it is important
to understand that all cultural traditions have access to multiple
pre-existing narratives that provide support for diverse actions
in times of stress, as we can see in the many varied citations
from the Koran and the Bible to justify responses to September
11.
Within communities, high social stress and anxiety produce pressures
towards conformity once a narrative emerges, although as new
events unfold there can be questioning and conflict around,
and change in, a narrative. Political leaders intuitively know
that building consensus using the key elements in a narrative
is crucial in mustering support for their actions, which they
present as "naturally" following from shared understandings.
In short, we can understand agreement on narratives as public
opinion formation that is both an effort by individuals to reduce
uncertainty and the stress accompanying it, and by leaders to
mobilize public support.
Deep threats to identity are among the strongest feelings people
have in bitter conflicts. Usually these involve perceived denigration
and humiliation. In violent conflicts, the fears also include
concern for physical security and fears of extinction of self,
family, and the group and its culture, including its sacred
icons and sites. In times of high stress, narratives connect
individual and group identity producing a sense of linked fate
among people that is likely to inhibit social and political
dissent. Disagreement quickly becomes disloyalty and often those
holding dissenting views are careful not to express them in
public settings or even in private ones.
Consider two accounts, the first of which resonates for most
of the American public and the second of which baffles many
Americans:
Two huge commercial jetliners smash into
the twin towers of the World Trade Center. Soon after, the
buildings collapse. Fires rage for days; eyewitnesses tell
of the horrors they saw or experienced. Thousands die as
the public learns that terrorists willing to commit suicide
hijacked four planes and turned them into weapons of mass
destruction in the name of their political/religious beliefs.
This is an evil act and an act of war—a sneak attack like
Pearl Harbor. It is perhaps a new kind of war, but a war
nonetheless and the only response to being attacked is to
attack back both to punish those responsible for the carnage
and to prevent future attacks. Defending civilization against
terrorism requires hunting down the supporters and perpetrators
of terror and the regimes that support them.
For many the truth of this narrative is self-evident. Anyone
denying or even questioning it is either an enemy or delusional
(or both). The link between the events themselves and the
conclusions is seamless to those who accept it. But a different
narrative also exists:
Two huge commercial jetliners smash into
the twin towers of the World Trade Center. Soon after, the
buildings collapse. Fires rage for days; eyewitnesses tell
of the horrors they saw or experienced. Thousands die as
the public learns that terrorists willing to commit suicide
hijacked four planes and turned them into weapons of mass
destruction in the name of their political/religious beliefs.
This may have been an evil act, but now the suffering Americans
know what it is like to live in physical terror. It is an
experience Palestinians and Iraqis and others in the Middle
East have known for years. This will lead, once again, to
attacks on Muslims, this time in Afghanistan, and perhaps
in other countries. Once again, innocent civilians will
bear the brunt of the suffering from the attacks from the
western powers while corrupt regimes give tacit support
to the US. As bombs fall from 30,000 feet and civilians
die, new refugees will be created in a land that has already
suffered from more than 20 years of on-going war.
The two narratives start in the same place, but then head
in different directions which evoke far different images.
Where the first emphasizes the reassurance a strong, military
response can offer, the second expresses fears that this strong
response will quickly become a vengeful attack on a vulnerable
religious community. Whereas the first invokes images of justice,
the second predicts uncontrolled revenge and more of the injustice
that has long characterized the relationship between the west
and Islam. It asks, if Americans claim that justice is so
important, why have Palestinians been neglected for so long
and subjected to frequent attacks using American-made sophisticated
weapons? Why are Iraqi children unable to meet their basic
nutritional needs while its leaders literally live in palaces?
In short, the second narrative expresses the deepest vulnerabilities,
humiliation, rage at both the west and the leaders of Muslim
countries, and fears of annihilation.
The second narrative is connected to the anger and resentment
against the US in many parts of the Islamic world, but it
doesn't mean that all Muslims agree with it or hate the US.
The power of the narrative is its plausibility, meaning that
it resonates with how many Muslims understand historical conflicts
with the Christian world as well as more recent events in
their own lifetimes. At least four events are especially relevant
here: (1) American support for the Shah of Iran and complete
opposition to the Iranian revolution; (2) unconditional support
for Israel despite their refusal to take significant steps
towards the achievement of a Palestinian state; (3) the Gulf
War, which was justified in the west in terms of turning back
Iraqi aggression but which was widely understood by Muslims
as propping up autocratic, unpopular and corrupt regimes upon
whom American oil supplies depended; and (4) threats to Islamic
holy sites in Saudi Arabia and Jerusalem resulting from not
only American presence in the region but the more diffuse
forces of modernization and globalization which threaten Muslim
cultures. A psychocultural analysis points towards the deep
fears and humiliations these events have unleashed and links
them to parallel past experiences.
One could view the two narratives as support for the view
that the world can be neatly dichotomized into two groups—those
who are for us and those who are against us and that therefore
further explosive and escalating conflict is inevitable. It
is further possible to attribute the attitudes and behaviors
of those involved solely to their culture and religion. However,
to do so would be a serious oversimplification with policy
implications whose consequences are likely to exacerbate,
rather than ease, future problems. Instead, the complexity
and ambiguity of the narratives themselves, as well as the
experiences underlying them, have significant implications
for future American policy in the region and for thinking
about bridging what seem like two completely incompatible
worldviews.
There are times when conditions move a group to apparent unity,
but many others where internal differences are highly significant.
Often our language implies that opposing parties are unified,
while in fact, when we speak about virtually any conflict,
we should recognize the considerable diversity within each
side. Many Americans are struggling to articulate a narrative
that recognizes the horrific inexcusable nature of the attacks,
the injustices of previous western actions against Islamic
peoples, and the risks of defining the situation as war. Similarly,
many Muslims are puzzling about how to balance their disgust
at the attacks with their equally strong rejection of American
policies which support corrupt, authoritarian regimes in the
region, and their opposition to high-tech military action
which threatens Muslim civilian populations. Also worth noting
is that the two narratives described above have some important
points of agreement and other areas where there are differences
of focus (the recent attacks versus past injustices) but not
necessarily explicit disagreements. Recognizing this complexity,
as well as the diversity of opinions and complexity of feelings
within each side, is a first step in finding ways to emphasize
common concerns or to articulate areas of possible congruence.
By revealing emotional "hot spots," narratives not only promote
understanding of the deeper roots of complex conflicts; they
also point towards opportunities for strategic intervention
and identify barriers to change. Narratives can change but
not necessarily when they are directly confronted. Simply
telling people their story of events is wrong is rarely successful
because there is often great emotional attachment to an account
that is defended from such frontal assaults. It is the images
and organization of most narratives that explains their power,
not the facts in them.
A psychocultural change strategy requires the introduction
of new experiences and/or the introduction of new emotional
connections that alter the salience of elements in the narrative
of key actors in a conflict and invite new and/or revised
linkages among their key elements. This understanding of narratives
has significant implications for future American policy towards
the Muslim world in general and the Arab world in particular.
Let me suggest the following constructive steps that follow
from this analysis. These suggestions are based on the hypothesis
that narratives are produced interactively and that change
in how one group experiences an opponent alters their own
narratives and subsequent behavior.
Better listening and learning.
The US needs to better understand the roots of anger, and
even rage, directed towards it from parts of the Muslim world.
It is easy to point the finger at demagogic figures, such
as Saddam Hussein, Osama bin Laden or the Taliban, but the
question should focus not just on the hate and propaganda
they are distributing but also on why their audience seems
so receptive. It is far easier to understand the motives of
sellers than buyers. However, it is necessary to understand
the deeply rooted vulnerabilities, fears, and humiliations
so many Muslims feel towards the west in general and the US
in particular and to recognize the importance of past experiences
and perceptions in current reactions.
Acknowledgment. There
is a long and bitter history of relations between the Christian
and Muslim worlds, and the Muslims still have vivid, bitter
cultural memories of the massacres and desecration of their
holy sites during the Crusades, the expulsions from Spain
and Portugal in the late 15th century, and European
colonization in the 19th and 20th centuries.
Pope John Paul II's visit to a mosque in Damascus in 2001
(the first ever by a pope) was a small effort to acknowledge
this past. It might easily be contrasted with President Bush's
reference to the war against terrorism as a Crusade in the
first days after September 11. Acknowledgment can be both
verbal and symbolic. It involves empathy without necessarily
communicating apology or agreement. What are acknowledged
are the deep feelings and threats a group feels. This can
be painful for all sides but it can result in a lowered intensity
of feelings or even, when accompanied by meaningful actions,
a rearrangement of connection among elements in a narrative.
New policies, actions and labels.
The US administration has worked hard to define its response
as an attack on terrorists and their supporters, not one against
the Muslim world. It is not yet clear how successful this
definition has been in countries such as Pakistan, Egypt,
Saudi Arabia or Iran given the deep distrust of the US. Actions
are needed which communicate this message more fully. It is
also important that the US make a major effort towards a just
settlement of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict and change
its policy towards Iraq, which both is ineffective in achieving
its key goals, and also puts the US in a completely untenable
humanitarian position. Probably the most difficult challenge
will be to stop turning a blind eye to oppressive, corrupt
regimes just because they happen to be aligned with the US
or supply needed resources. Making social justice and democratization
in the region a high priority is long overdue and the US has
to recognize that some of the strongest voices for democratization
and egalitarian development are sometimes Islamist. If the
US continues to support regimes throughout the region which
suppress all dissent, especially when it speaks with an Islamic
voice, the US will continue to be the target of increased
anger that arises from hopelessness and gives rise to extremist
and terrorist groups.
When asked at a press conference on October 11, 2001 why people
in the Muslim world hate the US, George Bush expressed amazement
and replied, "That's because they don't know us." Some might
respond that "they know us all too well." The answer I have
offered here doesn't deny that knowing an opponent can sometimes
improve a relationship; rather it draws attention to the role
that structural relationships, specific policies, and deep
emotions play in complicated, deep conflicts. In no way is
it a justification for the horrible acts perpetrated on innocent
people on September 11; my effort at explanation is aimed
at understanding some of the underlying dynamics at work to
make such future actions less likely. The US military action
may well achieve a number of its immediate goals. However,
only when the deepest fears of each side are both understood
and addressed, and the narratives of all parties become more
complex and nuanced, will events such as September 11 become
less likely. Where the clash of civilizations argument (offered
by both Huntington and bin Laden) presents the conflict between
Islam and the west as inevitable and enduring, the perspective
here suggests that despite the deeply rooted historical nature
of this conflict, there is much that can be done in the coming
years to transform the conflict in more constructive directions
and to lower its salience and intensity.
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See also essays on this site by Rubio, Smith,
Hefner,
and Modood on the Huntington thesis.
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