Kerala: The graveyard of all war propaganda, Part IV

6th century Ladkhan temple, infinite two knots symbol of karma rebirth cycle and interconnectedness, Aihole Hindu monuments Karnataka. This file is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International license. Author: Ms Sarah Welch.

by Ian Hansen, PhD

Particulars and Universals

Kerala is a geographically tiny state in a large country—India—that doesn’t make the news much in spite of having over a sixth of the world’s population.  As such, Kerala is a very particular place.  When I was a graduate student in cultural psychology, I remember my advisor telling me that another particular place, Japan, is considered the graveyard of all great social theories.  This is in part because as an “interdependent” or “collectivist” culture, Japan fails to conform to many of the theories of human psychology backed up by data gathered in individualist cultures (particularly the United States).  It is also in part because idiosyncratic Japan often defies expectations about what an interdependent or collectivist culture should behave like.  I have now come to think that almost any distinctive cultural-political-economic entity, closely examined, will seem like a graveyard of all great social theories.  Examinations of the particular tend to trouble pretenses to the universal.

Japan’s 127 million people—1.7% of the world’s population—are more plentiful than Kerala’s 35 million.  But if Japan’s population is not to be sneezed at, then neither is Kerala’s.  A whole movement in psychology—cultural psychology—has drawn much energy from studying fractional exceptions like Japan and Kerala to the apparently universal.  And cultural psychology is gradually shaping the sense of the “actually universal” in general psychology, with psychology textbooks highlighting cultural differences in psychological processes, and cultural psychologists even becoming well-known public intellectuals like Jonathan Haidt1.

Now Japan specifically is a political ally of the United States, so studying it can feel like looking at some of the charming differences enjoyed between allies.  Even with Modi’s India also being a US ally, Kerala’s particularities—including its role as a pocket of resistance to Modi’s Hindu nationalist fascism within India—are more politically troublesome to study.  Though most psychologists are nominally “liberal”, a plutocratic militarist structural academic climate still hangs heavily over the psychology profession.  So Kerala will probably not be a household word among even cultural psychologists anytime soon.  Kerala’s benign-looking manifestations of communism, Islam, etc. will probably not be considered sexy by those whom many US psychologists beg hat-in-hand for grant money, status and fame.  If the political economic will were there, though, more cultural psychological attention to the study of Keralan particulars—and Kerala-illuminated universals—could skewer some paradigms to potentially explosive effect.

Scientifically speaking, I think Kerala could illustrate how apparently shocking exceptions to the supposedly universal can sometimes mask an illuminating embodiment of the actually universal.  In this case, the shocking universal that Kerala embodies exceptionally is that most ideologies are okay, and peace between them is better than the alternative.  More specifically, most of the ideological principles we humans have been stealing, raping, torturing and murdering for over the last century are both (a) pretty good, and (b) would have been better served by peaceful integration, or at least live-and-let-live coexistence.  Insofar as Kerala illustrates both the pretty-goodness and should-have-tried-to-get-alongness of the big three value foundations for the last century’s massive ideological projects, Kerala can be considered a cultural psychological goldmine.  Or rather it could be considered a self-interest-threatening landmine if what you want is the military, corporate or CIA funding that can make you a household name in psychology.  That’s because Kerala is, as per my title, the graveyard of all war propaganda.

Footnote

1. Haidt’s case illustrates the costs of once plucky and gadfly-like cultural psychology going mainstream.  Being a US public intellectual and a successful psychologist at the same time appears to require more fealty to structures of power in the US (the military, the intelligence agencies, and the peculiar form of “capitalism” practiced by US financial institutions and corporations) than is required for public intellectual success in other disciplines.  To some extent, Haidt embodies the gadfly critiques of cultural psychology.  He became a wealthy, famous public intellectual even while offending many rank-and-file psychologists with his attack on an apparent hegemony: the overwhelming prefer-Democrats-to-Republicans “liberalism” of rank-and-file US psychologists.  But perhaps his underdog success capitalizes on the fact that the psychology profession is minimally accountable to its rank and file.  With regard to the more powerful sources of hegemony affecting how psychology operates as a profession, Haidt has demonstrated considerably less inclination to offend them.  Even cultural psychology’s ideological organizer, Richard Shweder (whom Haidt studied under), appears to have felt the zeitgeist calling him to flatter these sources of power.

Ian Hansen, Ph.D., is an Associate Professor in the Behavioral Sciences Department at York College, City University of New York, with a research focus on social psychology, religion, ideology, tolerance, and support for peace and pluralism. His core research interest is investigating psychological “odd bedfellows” phenomena with regard to religion and ideology.  He is also an active member in Psychologists for Social Responsibility, and served as its 2017 president.  

Reclaiming the Truth about Vietnam

 by Robert C. Koehler | Common Wonders – TRANSCEND Media Service

20 Sep 2017 – “From Ia Drang to Khe Sanh, from Hue to Saigon and countless villages in between, they pushed through jungles and rice paddies, heat and monsoon, fighting heroically to protect the ideals we hold dear as Americans. Through more than a decade of combat, over air, land, and sea, these proud Americans upheld the highest traditions of our Armed Forces.”

OK, I get it. Soldiers suffer, soldiers die in the wars we wage, and the commander in chief has to, occasionally, toss clichés on their graves.

The words are those of Barack Obama, five-plus years ago, issuing a Memorial Day proclamation establishing a 13-year commemoration of the Vietnam War, for which, apparently, about $65 million was appropriated.

Veterans for Peace calls it money allocated to rewrite history and has begun a counter-campaign called Full Disclosure, the need for which is more glaring than ever, considering that there is close to zero political opposition to the unleashed American empire and its endless war on terror.

Just the other day, for instance, 89 senators quietly voted to pass the 2018 National Defense Authorization Act, signing off on a $700 billion defense budget, which ups annual military spending by $80 billion and, as Common Dreams reported, “will dump a larger sum of money into the military budget than even President Donald Trump asked for while also authorizing the production of 94 F-35 jets, two dozen more than the Pentagon requested.”

And of course there’s no controversy here, no media clamor demanding to know where the money will come from. “Money for war just is. Like the tides,” Adam Johnson of Fairness and Accuracy in Reporting tweeted, as quoted by Common Dreams.

Oh quiet profits! The Full Disclosure campaign rips away the lies that allow America’s wars to continue: GIs slogging through jungles and rice paddies to protect the ideals we hold dear. These words are not directed at the people who put Obama into office, who did so believing he would end the Bush wars. The fact that he continued them mocks the “value” we call democracy, indeed, turns it into a hollow shell.

The U.S. Air Force dropped over 6 million tons of bombs and other ordnance on Vietnam, Laos and Cambodia between 1964 and 1973, more than it expended in World War II, Howard Machtinger notes at the Full Disclosure website. And more than 19 million gallons of toxic chemicals, including the infamous Agent Orange, were dumped on the Vietnam countryside.

“Accurate estimates are hard to come by,” he writes, “but as many as three million Vietnamese were likely killed, including two million civilians, hundreds of thousands seriously injured and disabled, millions of internally displaced, croplands and forests destroyed: incredible destruction — physical, environmental, institutional, and psychological. The term ecocide was coined to try to capture the devastation of the Vietnamese landscape.”

And: “All Vietnamese, as a matter of course, were referred to as ‘gooks.’ So the distinction between combatants and non-combatants, which had been eroding throughout 20th century warfare, virtually disappeared.”

And then there was the war’s effect on the soldiers who fought it and the “moral damage” so many suffered: “To date,” Machtinger writes, “estimates of veteran suicides range from a low of 9,000 to 150,000, the latter almost triple the number of U.S. deaths during the actual conflict.”

So I pause in the midst of these numbers, this data, letting the words and the memories wash over me: Agent Orange, napalm, gook, My Lai. Such words link only with terrible irony to the clichés of Obama’s proclamation: solemn reverence . . . honor . . . heads held high . . . the ideals we hold dear…

The first set of words sickened a vast segment of the American public and caused the horror of “Vietnam Syndrome” to cripple and emasculate the military-industrial complex for a decade and a half. Slowly, the powers that be regrouped, redefined how we fought our wars: without widespread national sacrifice or a universal draft; and with smart bombs and even smarter public relations, ensuring that most of the American public could watch our clean, efficient wars in the comfort of their living rooms.

What was also necessary was to marginalize the anti-war voices that shut down the Vietnam War. This was accomplished politically, beginning with the surrender of the Democratic Party to its military-industrial funders in the wake of George McGovern’s 1972 presidential campaign. Eventually, endless war became the new normal, and blotting the shame of our “loss” in Vietnam from the historical record became a priority.

The Full Disclosure campaign is saying: no way. One aspect of this campaign is an interactive exhibit of the 1968 My Lai massacre, in which American soldiers rounded up and killed more than 500 villagers. The exhibit was created by the Chicago chapter of Vets for Peace, which hopes to raise enough money to take it on a national tour and rekindle public awareness of the reality of war.

A slice of that reality can be found in a New Yorker article written in 2015 by Seymour Hersh, the reporter who broke the story some four and a half decades earlier. In the article, Hersh revisits the story of one of the GI participants in My Lai, Paul Meadlo:

“After being told by (Lt. William) Calley to ‘take care of this group,’ one Charlie Company soldier recounted, Meadlo and a fellow-soldier ‘were actually playing with the kids, telling the people where to sit down and giving the kids candy.’ When Calley returned and said that he wanted them dead, the soldier said, ‘Meadlo just looked at him like he couldn’t believe it. He says, “Waste them?” When Calley said yes, another soldier testified, Meadlo and Calley ‘opened up and started firing.’ But then Meadlo ‘started to cry.’”

And that’s the war, and those are our values, buried with the dead villagers in a mass grave.

Reprinted from TMS PEACE JOURNALISM, 25 September 2017

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Robert C. Koehler is an award-winning, Chicago-based peace journalist and nationally syndicated writer. His book, Courage Grows Strong at the Wound (Xenos Press) is still available. Contact him at koehlercw@gmail.com.

 

Go to Original – commonwonders.com

 

Think back: When did YOU last feel terrorized by somebody?

by Kathie MM

Camp Pendleton Counseling Services’ POWER Workshop is a program designed to help service members and their families overcome domestic violence and child abuse. This image is a work of a U.S. military or Department of Defense employee, taken or made as part of that person’s official duties. In the public domain.

The corporate media, when it does not have enough juicy crime and scandal stories to shock and awe, often provides us with a new episode in the “war on terror”.

Internationally, the dominant approach to combatting terror appears to be using or threatening more terror.

I think we know how well that has served us. (Is the world safer for democracy yet?)

Fundamentally, there appears to be little global appreciation for the complexity, the pervasiveness, the insidiousness of terrorizing–that is,  the human propensity to “fill with terror or anxiety,” “scare,” or “coerce by threat or violence.”

Let’s face it, wherever there is an imbalance of power, there is a potential for terrorizing.

Often, throughout history, in much of the world, men have terrorized women (including husbands terrorizing wives), first borns have  terrorized later borns (think of Cain and Abel), members of different gangs have  terrorized each other, bullies have terrorized whomever they can, and, sadly, the rich and powerful have terrorized the poor and meek (who seem to have a long way to go before they will be allowed to inherit the earth).

If we are going to have a successful war on terror, we need to take an ecological approach; that is, we need to tackle terrorizing at all levels of society—in the home, in the neighborhood, in the broader community, in states, and in the international community.

Terrorizing behavior is contagious—once you allow it into your home, it can go viral.

There are lots of efforts underway that can help inhibit terrorizing as a power-wielding, power-seeking tactic—domestic violence prevention programs, anti-bullying programs, women’s rights programs, civil rights programs, and a wide range of United Nations human rights initiatives.

All of these programs have flaws; after all, they were developed by human beings.  However, if you want to participate in the most general, most far-reaching, most likely-to-succeed war on terror, then supporting , defending, trying to improve, and contributing to the success of those programs is as good a place to start as any.

Us versus them (Portraying “the Other,” Part 1)

[By guest author, John Hess.]

I was stunned by the title of a post on Engaging Peace. “Recovery through forgiveness” contrasts so greatly with Regeneration through violence: The mythology of the American frontier, 1600-1860, the first volume of Richard Slotkin’s trilogy on American culture.

Slotkin’s argument is similar to that advanced by Christopher Hedges in War is a force that gives us meaning.

Specifically, nations often seek to work out pressing internal problems and bring about national unity through violence directed at an adversary who is portrayed as “the Other,” an embodiment of evil.

The U.S. used this approach in justifying the “War on Terror,” and later the Iraq War:

  • Us against them
  • Good against evil
  • War against those who hate our way of life and want to destroy it.

The first major example Slotkin discusses in Regeneration is King Philip’s War. That 1675-6 conflict is said to have been, relatively speaking, the most destructive war ever fought on (what became) American soil.

Puritanism was then in the throes of a spiritual crisis, with many of the more intransigent ministers claiming there had been a “falling away” from the fervor and purity of the original colonists. At the same time, the New England colonies were rapidly expanding, which led to a demand for more land. This in turn brought them more and more into conflict with the Native tribes, who were on land the Puritans desired.

Puritan thinkers increasingly came to portray the Natives as their direct opposites:

  • Where the English were Christian, the Natives were pagan
  • Where the English were civilized, the Natives were savage
  • Where the English were the new Chosen People, the Natives were not
  • Where the English were doing God’s will, the Natives were certainly on the other side.

John Hess, Senior Lecturer in English and American Studies, University of Massachusetts, Boston