Myanmar, or Burma as some still prefer to call it, has been in the news fairly often lately, and unlike in the past, it has been for mostly positive reasons. While it is still perhaps to early to tell if the changes taking place will stick (here is an interesting in-depth look at what has been taking place and the differing viewpoints about what it all means, and here is a briefer article about the negative effect of the current sanctions on one Burmese rock band), it has brought to mind the trip we made there back in early 2003 and the impressions I got of the country at the time. In the ten days or so we were in Burma, after arriving in Yangon (Rangoon) and spending a couple of days there, we took a bus up to Mandalay in the north and then to the ruins of Bagan before heading back to Yangon. I kept a journal of sorts at first, but I ended up falling behind and eventually abandoning it (I think the last entry was from our last day in Bagan). Someday I’ll dig it out and use it to write up a chronological account of the whole trip (relying on my fading memory for the last part), but for now I’ll just record a few general impressions.
[Note: As far as the name of the country goes, my opinions are rather mixed. The most serious objection to the name “Myanmar” is that the change was imposed by a particularly awful government. If the source of the name is ignored, it actually has some advantages over the name Burma, which derives from the dominant ethnic group (called Burman or Bamar). The country is home to a wide variety of ethnic groups, many of which resent and in some cases violent resist domination by the Burmans. Of course the government which imposed the name Myanmar also was guilty of some terrible atrocities against those minority ethnic groups, but that doesn’t change the fact that the name itself is more ethnically neutral. As a result, I don’t really favor either name strongly, and I tend to use them interchangeably. On the other hand, we spent all our time in the Burman parts of the country – in most cases it wasn’t even possible to go to the minority regions – so I’ll probably use Burma more often.]
Myanmar was clearly a poor country, and like several other former British colonies I have visited (such as Nepal, India and Sri Lanka), it seemed to have a rather large number of large colonial era buildings that looked as if they might have been fairly grand when new but were now falling apart. The people for the most part seemed very friendly. In Bagan we met a young woman who was one of the many locals selling souvenirs to tourists. We chatted with her and when we ran into her again later at another site talked with her some more. Eventually she introduced us to her father (who was also selling souvenirs) and gave us a set of postcards for free. They weren’t a new set, but I was still quite surprised that she would give us something on such a short acquaintance, just to be friendly (we hadn’t bought anything else from either her or her father, so it was clear that she had no other motivation). While we didn’t strike up any other friendships like that, most other people struck as genuinely amicable.
As for the government, its presence was obvious in some places and less so in others. There was a billboard in both Burmese and English in Yangon containing propaganda slogans along the lines of “the people firmly reject foreign imperialism” or something like that; for a precise quote I’d have to dig out the one copy of their English newspaper I picked up, as it also contained the slogans (in any case, they were a definite example of common phenomenon – the more a government or leader claims to be speaking for the people, the less likely they are to be speaking the truth). One day in Bagan we saw a long convoy of military vehicles (perhaps some top general was taking a tour of the ancient city, maybe out of the delusion that he was an heir to its former greatness). Also in Bagan we saw an office of Aung San Suu Kyi’s political party, the National League for Democracy. It was a small building with a sign in Burmese and English. Outside there were a couple of men sitting on motorbikes (or maybe just standing – I don’t remember for sure). As we stood looking at the office, one of them told us to go ahead in and take a look. We did so, but there was no one inside, just a few pictures on the wall. We suspected that the men outside were most likely government agents who were keeping an eye on the place, though we had no way to tell for sure.
On the other hand, we saw a few things that showed that the government was a little lax in its suppression of criticism, either because they simply didn’t care about some things or they were inefficient. While we were in Mandalay, we went to see a performance by a comedy troupe led by Par Par Lay. He had previously spent several years in prison for making jokes about government corruption, but the performance we saw still included a number of obvious references to government censorship. Perhaps the main reason he could get away with that was because the show was in English and the audience was made up of foreign travelers. I have no idea if he was doing shows for locals at the time, but I would guess he would have been more circumspect if he did. Regardless, his bravery was impressive, and in fact I recently read that he did get arrested again in 2007, though he was released a few weeks later.
Another example that sticks in my mind was a T-shirt I saw for sale in Yangon. This T-shirt featured the image from the cover of a solo album (The Story of [the] Dispossessed) by the leader of the Thai rock band Carabao, Yuenyong Opakul, better known as Ad Carabao, showing him behind bars. This may not seem like much, but the theme of this particular album was the repression of the ethnic Shan (a Tai ethnic group, speaking a language closely related to Thai) by the Myanmar government. It’s possible that even the T-shirt seller didn’t know the significance of the image (we didn’t ask), but it was still a bit surprising to see. On the other hand, even the most efficient dictatorship is bound to let a few things through the cracks, and Burma’s government wasn’t terribly efficient (though it was probably more efficient at repression than anything else).
Of course there were many other interesting things we saw during our trip, such as the impressive ruins at Bagan, the Shwedagon Pagoda, and various places in Mandalay and Yangon, but an account of those will have to wait. As for the current situation in Myanmar, while things are definitely looking a lot better than a few years ago, it’s worth keeping in mind that there’s still a long ways to go. An unfortunate reminder of this came recently when the Burmese monk U Gambira, who was a leader of the 2007 protests and was released from prison just last month as part of the large-scale amnesty of political prisoners, was arrested again. Though he was released after questioning, the most recent reports indicate that he will be charged for illegally breaking into and squatting in monasteries that were padlocked following the 2007 protests. So it appears the government, or at least elements of it, is still not prepared to completely tolerate dissent (as it happens, U Gambira himself expressed some skepticism about the government’s sincerity in reforming after his release from prison last month). The outside world must still be prepared to put pressure on the government not to backslide in its relaxation of control.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
A Couple of Links
Here is a short but compelling (and somewhat scary) video put together by NASA showing global temperature variations for the past 130 years above and below a mid-twentieth century baseline temperature.
And to follow up on my last post, John Stewart had a great take on the conservative criticism of the Obama's administration's measure requiring birth control to be covered in health insurance plans offered to employees at religious-affiliated institutions in this segment and especially this one.
And to follow up on my last post, John Stewart had a great take on the conservative criticism of the Obama's administration's measure requiring birth control to be covered in health insurance plans offered to employees at religious-affiliated institutions in this segment and especially this one.
Monday, February 13, 2012
Obama, Contraception and the Catholic Church
In the last week or so one of the big political stories in the United States was the criticism the Obama administration received from the Republicans and others on the right for a new policy compelling insurance plans, including those offered by religious-affiliated organizations like hospitals, universities and charities, to provide women with coverage for birth control. The Catholic church protested because of its long-standing opposition to contraception, and many Republicans and other right-wing critics piled on, accusing the administration of attacking religious freedom. Originally the rule called for employers themselves to pay for such coverage, but because of the complaints, it was revised so that insurers would be required to pay instead. This hasn't satisfied many critics, because some institutions offer also act as insurers themselves, and even where they don't opponents say religious organizations will be paying indirectly for something they oppose.
Let's pretend for a minute that there was a university out there that was affiliated with some religion that believed that any kind of medical assistance was a sin, because sickness was sent by God (beliefs of this sort, while unusual, are actually not unknown in America). Would the government then be violating religious freedom by requiring that the university offer any kind of health coverage at all? To take an example that is less similar to the case in question, is the government violating religious freedom by banning polygamy, even among religions that encourage it? Or for more extreme example, what if a religion calls for something like the brutal female circumcision practiced in some parts of Africa, or for regular human sacrifice? (Note that I am by no means equating polygamy with the latter things; I think a good argument can be made for legalizing all marriage arrangements among consenting adults.) I think that most Americans, including this rule's critics, would be in favor of restricting some religious practices on the grounds that they are harmful to society as a whole (whether this is true or not). On the other hand, freedom of religion is one of the basic principles on which the United States was founded (despite the inaccurate assertions of some that the founders intended it to be a "Judeo-Christian nation"). So is this particular rule a necessary restriction or a violation of the basic principle?
I have long regarded the Catholic Church's views on contraception to be ridiculously backward, more in line with the geocentric view of the universe it clung to in the time of Galileo than with a doctrine that belongs in the 21st century. Not only is the Catholic position on birth control harmful to Catholics, particularly Catholic women, but in a world with seven billion people and counting, it is harmful to the entire human race and even to many other forms of life on Earth that are having their habitats squeezed out of existence by the ravening hordes of humanity. In the long term, probably the most important thing humanity has to do to create a sustainable future is to control its population. If the Catholic Church persists in its refusal to recognize this by changing its doctrine, it is my profound wish that either the vast majority of Catholics will start to ignore the church's teachings on this issue (as many do already) or that its membership will wither away to a tiny fraction of what it is today. Since I consider the Catholic position on contraception to be about as defensible as, say, Islamic fundamentalist efforts to prevent even non-Muslims from creating images of Mohammed (which is to say not at all), it should come as no surprise that I have little sympathy with Catholic complaints about being forced to provide birth control coverage to mostly non-Catholic employees at institutions like hospitals and universities, which are primarily secular in function anyway. The rule does not affect churches or other organizations that are primarily religious in function, so it does not restrict religious freedom. On the contrary, it simply helps ensure that one of the most basic preventative health measures around is available to all women who need it.
The Republican attacks on Obama over this issue on the grounds of religious freedom are also incredibly hypocritical. If it was an Islamic school or charity that was being required to provide some service that they felt violated their religion I wonder whether Newt Gingrich, for instance, would be leaping to their defense. Judging from his past rhetoric, I think it's safe to say that the answer is no, and the same is true of many if not most of his fellow Republican leaders. Their defense of "religious freedom" is completely opportunistic and highly selective. It is regrettable that the Obama administration has already felt the need to compromise with the backward thinking that the Catholic Church and its GOP allies represent on this issue. We can only hope that they have the backbone to resist any further relaxation of the minimal requirements that this new rule puts in place.
Let's pretend for a minute that there was a university out there that was affiliated with some religion that believed that any kind of medical assistance was a sin, because sickness was sent by God (beliefs of this sort, while unusual, are actually not unknown in America). Would the government then be violating religious freedom by requiring that the university offer any kind of health coverage at all? To take an example that is less similar to the case in question, is the government violating religious freedom by banning polygamy, even among religions that encourage it? Or for more extreme example, what if a religion calls for something like the brutal female circumcision practiced in some parts of Africa, or for regular human sacrifice? (Note that I am by no means equating polygamy with the latter things; I think a good argument can be made for legalizing all marriage arrangements among consenting adults.) I think that most Americans, including this rule's critics, would be in favor of restricting some religious practices on the grounds that they are harmful to society as a whole (whether this is true or not). On the other hand, freedom of religion is one of the basic principles on which the United States was founded (despite the inaccurate assertions of some that the founders intended it to be a "Judeo-Christian nation"). So is this particular rule a necessary restriction or a violation of the basic principle?
I have long regarded the Catholic Church's views on contraception to be ridiculously backward, more in line with the geocentric view of the universe it clung to in the time of Galileo than with a doctrine that belongs in the 21st century. Not only is the Catholic position on birth control harmful to Catholics, particularly Catholic women, but in a world with seven billion people and counting, it is harmful to the entire human race and even to many other forms of life on Earth that are having their habitats squeezed out of existence by the ravening hordes of humanity. In the long term, probably the most important thing humanity has to do to create a sustainable future is to control its population. If the Catholic Church persists in its refusal to recognize this by changing its doctrine, it is my profound wish that either the vast majority of Catholics will start to ignore the church's teachings on this issue (as many do already) or that its membership will wither away to a tiny fraction of what it is today. Since I consider the Catholic position on contraception to be about as defensible as, say, Islamic fundamentalist efforts to prevent even non-Muslims from creating images of Mohammed (which is to say not at all), it should come as no surprise that I have little sympathy with Catholic complaints about being forced to provide birth control coverage to mostly non-Catholic employees at institutions like hospitals and universities, which are primarily secular in function anyway. The rule does not affect churches or other organizations that are primarily religious in function, so it does not restrict religious freedom. On the contrary, it simply helps ensure that one of the most basic preventative health measures around is available to all women who need it.
The Republican attacks on Obama over this issue on the grounds of religious freedom are also incredibly hypocritical. If it was an Islamic school or charity that was being required to provide some service that they felt violated their religion I wonder whether Newt Gingrich, for instance, would be leaping to their defense. Judging from his past rhetoric, I think it's safe to say that the answer is no, and the same is true of many if not most of his fellow Republican leaders. Their defense of "religious freedom" is completely opportunistic and highly selective. It is regrettable that the Obama administration has already felt the need to compromise with the backward thinking that the Catholic Church and its GOP allies represent on this issue. We can only hope that they have the backbone to resist any further relaxation of the minimal requirements that this new rule puts in place.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
What I've Been Reading – September 2011 to December 2011
Here are some comments on the novels that I read in the last few months of the past year. I also read various short stories and bits of different non-fiction books, but I won't go over those this time.
Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice was notable for me as the first (and so far only) novel I ever read on a phone (an Android that I’d recently been given as a present). There were a few obvious glitches in the transfer of the book to digital form, mostly words and letters that the software misread, but these were minor. More generally speaking, while I still prefer the real thing, I can’t say that I found reading an e-book to be all that different from a physical book, and I wouldn’t rule out reading more books in that form, though I also intend to give most of what little financial support I can afford to books published in the standard format (this particular e-book came free with the phone, so I didn’t have to buy it).
As for the novel itself, the book was perhaps easier going than I expected, and gave an interesting picture of life among the middle and upper classes in Austen’s time. The love story might seem something of a cliché nowadays, but it was less so in Austen’s time, and the characters were interesting. I can see why comparisons have been made between Susanna Clarke’s Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norell and Austen’s work, though the former is still different in many ways (not least in telling a completely different kind of story), and also why a history book that I coincidentally was reading from about this time referred readers to this novel as a good second choice after Henry Fielding’s Tom Jones for a view of life in the 18th century (though Pride and Prejudice is technically set at the turn of the 19th century, no doubt the writers of the history book figured that is close enough). I would have to say I personally liked Tom Jones (and Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norell) somewhat better than Pride and Prejudice, but the latter is certainly worth reading too (now I need to get a hold of a copy of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies…).
Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace
Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace is one of the most massive and complex novels I’ve read in recent years. One reviewer characterized it as four novels in one, and while four may be a stretch, there are certainly at least three novels contained within its thousand-plus pages. One focuses on life in a top tennis academy attended by many of the country’s top junior tennis players. The protagonist for this part of the narrative, and arguably the novel’s central character is Hal Incandenza, a tennis and academic prodigy. The second, initially unrelated tale is set in a halfway house for recovering drug addicts. The main character in this portion of the novel is the brawny former addict and burglar Don Gately, who next to Hal receives the second most narrative attention. The third novel is a science fiction-tinged thriller revolving around the search for the film Infinite Jest, the last work of Hal’s late father James Incandenza, which is so intensely pleasurable to watch that it is deadly.
It is very difficult to characterize this novel. At first glance, it seems like a modern day version of James Joyce’s Ulysses, with its immensely length, its hundreds of end notes (some of them constituting entire chapters worth of material themselves), its extensive use of difficult vocabulary and local slang, and its rather bizarre opening (which turns out to take place many months after everything else in the novel). But in fact the novel is for the most part quite readable despite its heftiness, though I certainly wouldn’t characterize it as light reading. Overall it is probably less bizarre in its content than, say, Samuel Delany’s Dhalgren. It is still quite bizarre in places, however, and it has a distinct absurdist tone at times. For example, it is set in a near future in which the traditional calendar has been done away with and replaced with what is known as Subsidized Time, where each year is named after a product whose producer has bought the rights to the year (much of the novel takes place in The Year of the Depend Adult Undergarment). The US president is a former crooner with an obsession with cleanliness and hygiene (he is the founder and leader of the Clean Party). Much of New England has been turned into a toxic dump and foisted on Canada, which is part of the US-dominated Organization of North American Nations. And the terrorist group which is seeking the film Infinite Jest to use as a weapon against the US is a Quebecois separatist group known as the Les Assassins des Fauteuils Rollents, or Wheelchair Assassins, as they are all legless and use wheelchairs.
Despite the absurdist elements and some quite funny bits, I wouldn’t characterize the novel as a comedy, as there are far too many dark parts, a few of which can be pretty grim reading (the bits about the effects of severe depression and suicide are made all the more compelling by Wallace’s own fate, though this is only in hindsight – after all, the novel also talks in great depth about drug addictions that Wallace himself never had). But then, as I said before, it is very difficult to characterize this novel in any way, as it is so many things at once. In addition to receiving fulsome critical praise (and a few harsh attacks), it has generated a vast number of thesis papers and derivative works (including a music video for "Calamity Song" by the Decemberists based on a strange, elaborate game played by students at the tennis academy). It should be noted that anybody expecting a conventional ending in which everything is neatly tied up and explained will be sorely disappointed in this book. In fact so much is left unexplained that the novel has prompted extensive discussion and debate among readers about various points (what caused Hal’s breakdown, whether Madame Psychosis is disfigured or not, the content and location of the film, and more). In some ways, my reaction upon finishing it was similar to that when I finished Dhalgren; I asked myself “What the hell happened?” and immediately started flipping back through the book to try to figure out some kind of answer. In the case of Infinite Jest, I was even tempted to join some of the fan debates I mentioned above, as while some of them pointed out things I’d missed or that hadn’t occurred to me, there were points that I thought some of them had missed (though by now my memory is faded somewhat, so if I really wanted to contribute to the various arguments, I’d have to reread much of the book again). So even though I found the sudden ending slightly jarring, I’m by no means sorry I read the novel. It is a weirdly fascinating, virtuosic work that is ultimately entertaining, if not as fatally so as the eponymous film.
I, Claudius by Robert Graves
I, Claudius, written by Robert Graves, is one of the best known historical novels of the 20th century. As the title indicates, it is written in the form of an auto-biography by Tiberius Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, generally known as Claudius, who was the fourth Roman emperor. The novel covers his life up to his unexpected accession to the position of emperor, as well as a substantial period before his birth that Graves (speaking as Claudius) covers in order to give the reader some background on his family.
From birth or at least a very early age, Claudius suffered from some sort of disability (what exactly it was is still debated) which caused him be physically weak and to stammer, such that when he was young he was thought to be mentally deficient. The rest of his family engaged in sometimes murderous in-fighting, and the fact that Claudius was seen as harmless helped save him from falling victim to jealous relatives. But as portrayed by Graves, Claudius was in fact very intelligent, though socially somewhat inept, and proved to be one of the more sensible and capable members of his family.
Graves seems to have based his novel closely on the works of ancient Roman historians like Suetonius and Tacitus, though he takes a more favorable view of Claudius himself than they apparently did (I have not read their histories myself, though have read some of the works of early Roman historians like Livy, who appears briefly in the novel). Their accounts portray many of the members of the ruling Julio-Claudian family as murderous schemers, and in some cases, particularly that of Claudius’s predecessor Caligula (proper name Gaius Julius Caesar Augustus Germanicus), as homicidally insane. Livia, the wife of Augustus and grandmother of Claudius, is accused of having had many of her own family murdered for political reasons and is the villain of the first part of the novel, though she is also acknowledged to have been a good administrator and appears much more positively later in the novel, if only in contrast to her son Tiberius (the second emperor) and great-grandson Caligula. However, modern historians regard many of the more lurid assertions made by the ancient historians as dubious or even wholly fictional (for one thing, it is improbably that everyone who was rumored to have been poisoned actually was, and some of the stories about Tiberius and Caligula are certainly exaggerated). Therefore, readers should be wary of accepting Graves’s characterizations of the members of the imperial family, well done though they are, as historically accurate. Despite this, I would certainly recommend the book to those who like historical fiction or indeed those who like good literature, and if I have a chance I will pick up Graves’s sequel, Claudius the God.
The Forever War by Joe Haldeman
Joe Haldeman’s The Forever War, a science fiction novel first published in 1974, was by Haldeman’s own admission inspired by his experiences in the Vietnam War. The protagonist, William Mandella was a physics student drafted along with other highly intelligent, well-educated young people to fight in an interstellar war with a newly discovered alien race. Due to time dilation effects (somewhat exaggerated, as I recall, since the starships would have to spend most of their time traveling at over 95% of light speed for the effect to be as pronounced as it is in the novel), Mandella and his fellow soldiers (the few that survive) return from their first two year tour of duty to an Earth where over two decades have passed and dramatic changes have taken place. It isn’t long before Mandella and his girlfriend (who had served with him) decide they can’t adapt and rejoin the military, originally under the condition they be posted to the Moon but almost immediately ending going back to the frontlines of the war. As more subjective years pass (from Mandella’s point of view), he encounters more senseless death and destruction while centuries go by on Earth, and he eventually learns how pointless the war itself was.
The Forever War widely regarded as the one of the most notable anti-war science fiction novels, and the first prominent one that was an allegory for Vietnam. Many regarded it as a response to the extremely pro-military Starship Troopers by Robert Heinlein (which like a number of Heinlein’s novels promotes some rather disturbing ideas), but Haldemann has supposedly downplayed this idea, declaring himself a fan of Heinlein (who was indeed a major figure in early sci-fi, despite the extreme views which he displayed in many later novels). Regardless, the novel certainly takes a bleak look at warfare and soldiering, and coveys Mandella’s alienation from the Earth he is supposedly fighting for quite well.
Some aspects of the novel come across as rather problematic today, however. Most notable is the way sexual orientation is treated (some people might also have issues with the way the military handles sexuality in the first part of the book – I doubt many women would consider such an arrangement ideal, and some men would also have objections – but I’ll have to admit I personally would not have a problem with it). When Mandella returns to Earth after his first tour of duty, overpopulation has become so extreme that the world’s governments promote homosexuality, such that most people are homosexual. Later in the novel, homosexuality has come to predominate such that heterosexuals are considered abnormal (it is even suggested to Mandella that he could be “cured” of his orientation). The problem with this is of course that we now know that sexual orientation is largely inborn, and while under certain circumstances primarily heterosexual people will engage regularly in homosexual activity, either due to lack of members of the opposite sex (prisons, ships at sea) or societal encouragement (ancient Greece), it would not be possible to completely change the primary orientation of the whole population without some type of genetic engineering, and people certainly can’t be “cured” of a sexual orientation (whatever Michele Bachmann may think). But in the 1970s the idea that homosexuality was a choice was more prevalent, and with that in mind it is a little easier to ignore this flaw in what is generally a good book.
The Dragonbone Chair by Tad Williams
The Dragonbone Chair is the first book in Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn, a fantasy trilogy by Tad Williams (actually in paperback there are four books, as the last book was so long it was published in two parts). The world is an invented one, but a number of elements are closely based on real world history, most notably the human ethnic groups and the dominant religion. There are lands and peoples corresponding to the Vikings and the ancient Roman Empire, the religion is closely modeled on Christianity, and there is a figure much like the Pope. In other ways, of course, Osten Ard (as it is called) differs greatly from our world, such as the presence of magic and fantasy races. Though only two of these play major roles in The Dragonbone Chair, others are mentioned and may appear in later books. The most important non-human race is the Sithi, an immortal, pre-human race who most closely resemble fairies or elves (particularly as portrayed in Tolkien). The other race that plays an important role is the trolls (actually just one troll), who are more like gnomes or pixies than the large, dangerous trolls that populate most fantasy works.
The story opens towards the end of the long reign of Prester John (a name that appeared in medieval legends in our world), who first came to power by successfully slaying a dragon whose bones were used for his throne (thus the book’s title). As the king nears death from old age, we learn that his sons have some strong differences of opinion, with the younger son Josua particularly objecting to his elder brother’s reliance on a sinister priest named Pyrates as an adviser. Things basically deteriorate from there, though I won’t go into any details of the plot here. The main protagonist of the novel is a teenaged kitchen scullion named Simon, who was raised as an orphan in the castle. Judging from this book and the one other Tad Williams book I’ve read, The War of the Flowers, he likes using flawed protagonists who are forced to mature by the experiences they go through. Simon initially is almost unbelievably immature and flighty (even granted that he is around 15 years old and many teens are immature and flighty), though he shows improvement by the end of the book.
I obviously can’t pass judgment on this series as a whole yet, but based on the first book, Williams has woven an above average fantasy epic with a gripping plot and an interesting world behind it. The novel is not as distinctive as some others I have read (China Miéville’s novels, Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norell, Gideon’s Wall, George R.R. Martin’s Song of Ice and Fire, or even Williams’ own The War of the Flowers), containing as it does a lot of standard fantasy elements, but if the remaining volumes keep up the standards of the first, it is still worth recommending as good fantasy reading.
Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice was notable for me as the first (and so far only) novel I ever read on a phone (an Android that I’d recently been given as a present). There were a few obvious glitches in the transfer of the book to digital form, mostly words and letters that the software misread, but these were minor. More generally speaking, while I still prefer the real thing, I can’t say that I found reading an e-book to be all that different from a physical book, and I wouldn’t rule out reading more books in that form, though I also intend to give most of what little financial support I can afford to books published in the standard format (this particular e-book came free with the phone, so I didn’t have to buy it).
As for the novel itself, the book was perhaps easier going than I expected, and gave an interesting picture of life among the middle and upper classes in Austen’s time. The love story might seem something of a cliché nowadays, but it was less so in Austen’s time, and the characters were interesting. I can see why comparisons have been made between Susanna Clarke’s Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norell and Austen’s work, though the former is still different in many ways (not least in telling a completely different kind of story), and also why a history book that I coincidentally was reading from about this time referred readers to this novel as a good second choice after Henry Fielding’s Tom Jones for a view of life in the 18th century (though Pride and Prejudice is technically set at the turn of the 19th century, no doubt the writers of the history book figured that is close enough). I would have to say I personally liked Tom Jones (and Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norell) somewhat better than Pride and Prejudice, but the latter is certainly worth reading too (now I need to get a hold of a copy of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies…).
Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace
Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace is one of the most massive and complex novels I’ve read in recent years. One reviewer characterized it as four novels in one, and while four may be a stretch, there are certainly at least three novels contained within its thousand-plus pages. One focuses on life in a top tennis academy attended by many of the country’s top junior tennis players. The protagonist for this part of the narrative, and arguably the novel’s central character is Hal Incandenza, a tennis and academic prodigy. The second, initially unrelated tale is set in a halfway house for recovering drug addicts. The main character in this portion of the novel is the brawny former addict and burglar Don Gately, who next to Hal receives the second most narrative attention. The third novel is a science fiction-tinged thriller revolving around the search for the film Infinite Jest, the last work of Hal’s late father James Incandenza, which is so intensely pleasurable to watch that it is deadly.
It is very difficult to characterize this novel. At first glance, it seems like a modern day version of James Joyce’s Ulysses, with its immensely length, its hundreds of end notes (some of them constituting entire chapters worth of material themselves), its extensive use of difficult vocabulary and local slang, and its rather bizarre opening (which turns out to take place many months after everything else in the novel). But in fact the novel is for the most part quite readable despite its heftiness, though I certainly wouldn’t characterize it as light reading. Overall it is probably less bizarre in its content than, say, Samuel Delany’s Dhalgren. It is still quite bizarre in places, however, and it has a distinct absurdist tone at times. For example, it is set in a near future in which the traditional calendar has been done away with and replaced with what is known as Subsidized Time, where each year is named after a product whose producer has bought the rights to the year (much of the novel takes place in The Year of the Depend Adult Undergarment). The US president is a former crooner with an obsession with cleanliness and hygiene (he is the founder and leader of the Clean Party). Much of New England has been turned into a toxic dump and foisted on Canada, which is part of the US-dominated Organization of North American Nations. And the terrorist group which is seeking the film Infinite Jest to use as a weapon against the US is a Quebecois separatist group known as the Les Assassins des Fauteuils Rollents, or Wheelchair Assassins, as they are all legless and use wheelchairs.
Despite the absurdist elements and some quite funny bits, I wouldn’t characterize the novel as a comedy, as there are far too many dark parts, a few of which can be pretty grim reading (the bits about the effects of severe depression and suicide are made all the more compelling by Wallace’s own fate, though this is only in hindsight – after all, the novel also talks in great depth about drug addictions that Wallace himself never had). But then, as I said before, it is very difficult to characterize this novel in any way, as it is so many things at once. In addition to receiving fulsome critical praise (and a few harsh attacks), it has generated a vast number of thesis papers and derivative works (including a music video for "Calamity Song" by the Decemberists based on a strange, elaborate game played by students at the tennis academy). It should be noted that anybody expecting a conventional ending in which everything is neatly tied up and explained will be sorely disappointed in this book. In fact so much is left unexplained that the novel has prompted extensive discussion and debate among readers about various points (what caused Hal’s breakdown, whether Madame Psychosis is disfigured or not, the content and location of the film, and more). In some ways, my reaction upon finishing it was similar to that when I finished Dhalgren; I asked myself “What the hell happened?” and immediately started flipping back through the book to try to figure out some kind of answer. In the case of Infinite Jest, I was even tempted to join some of the fan debates I mentioned above, as while some of them pointed out things I’d missed or that hadn’t occurred to me, there were points that I thought some of them had missed (though by now my memory is faded somewhat, so if I really wanted to contribute to the various arguments, I’d have to reread much of the book again). So even though I found the sudden ending slightly jarring, I’m by no means sorry I read the novel. It is a weirdly fascinating, virtuosic work that is ultimately entertaining, if not as fatally so as the eponymous film.
I, Claudius by Robert Graves
I, Claudius, written by Robert Graves, is one of the best known historical novels of the 20th century. As the title indicates, it is written in the form of an auto-biography by Tiberius Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, generally known as Claudius, who was the fourth Roman emperor. The novel covers his life up to his unexpected accession to the position of emperor, as well as a substantial period before his birth that Graves (speaking as Claudius) covers in order to give the reader some background on his family.
From birth or at least a very early age, Claudius suffered from some sort of disability (what exactly it was is still debated) which caused him be physically weak and to stammer, such that when he was young he was thought to be mentally deficient. The rest of his family engaged in sometimes murderous in-fighting, and the fact that Claudius was seen as harmless helped save him from falling victim to jealous relatives. But as portrayed by Graves, Claudius was in fact very intelligent, though socially somewhat inept, and proved to be one of the more sensible and capable members of his family.
Graves seems to have based his novel closely on the works of ancient Roman historians like Suetonius and Tacitus, though he takes a more favorable view of Claudius himself than they apparently did (I have not read their histories myself, though have read some of the works of early Roman historians like Livy, who appears briefly in the novel). Their accounts portray many of the members of the ruling Julio-Claudian family as murderous schemers, and in some cases, particularly that of Claudius’s predecessor Caligula (proper name Gaius Julius Caesar Augustus Germanicus), as homicidally insane. Livia, the wife of Augustus and grandmother of Claudius, is accused of having had many of her own family murdered for political reasons and is the villain of the first part of the novel, though she is also acknowledged to have been a good administrator and appears much more positively later in the novel, if only in contrast to her son Tiberius (the second emperor) and great-grandson Caligula. However, modern historians regard many of the more lurid assertions made by the ancient historians as dubious or even wholly fictional (for one thing, it is improbably that everyone who was rumored to have been poisoned actually was, and some of the stories about Tiberius and Caligula are certainly exaggerated). Therefore, readers should be wary of accepting Graves’s characterizations of the members of the imperial family, well done though they are, as historically accurate. Despite this, I would certainly recommend the book to those who like historical fiction or indeed those who like good literature, and if I have a chance I will pick up Graves’s sequel, Claudius the God.
The Forever War by Joe Haldeman
Joe Haldeman’s The Forever War, a science fiction novel first published in 1974, was by Haldeman’s own admission inspired by his experiences in the Vietnam War. The protagonist, William Mandella was a physics student drafted along with other highly intelligent, well-educated young people to fight in an interstellar war with a newly discovered alien race. Due to time dilation effects (somewhat exaggerated, as I recall, since the starships would have to spend most of their time traveling at over 95% of light speed for the effect to be as pronounced as it is in the novel), Mandella and his fellow soldiers (the few that survive) return from their first two year tour of duty to an Earth where over two decades have passed and dramatic changes have taken place. It isn’t long before Mandella and his girlfriend (who had served with him) decide they can’t adapt and rejoin the military, originally under the condition they be posted to the Moon but almost immediately ending going back to the frontlines of the war. As more subjective years pass (from Mandella’s point of view), he encounters more senseless death and destruction while centuries go by on Earth, and he eventually learns how pointless the war itself was.
The Forever War widely regarded as the one of the most notable anti-war science fiction novels, and the first prominent one that was an allegory for Vietnam. Many regarded it as a response to the extremely pro-military Starship Troopers by Robert Heinlein (which like a number of Heinlein’s novels promotes some rather disturbing ideas), but Haldemann has supposedly downplayed this idea, declaring himself a fan of Heinlein (who was indeed a major figure in early sci-fi, despite the extreme views which he displayed in many later novels). Regardless, the novel certainly takes a bleak look at warfare and soldiering, and coveys Mandella’s alienation from the Earth he is supposedly fighting for quite well.
Some aspects of the novel come across as rather problematic today, however. Most notable is the way sexual orientation is treated (some people might also have issues with the way the military handles sexuality in the first part of the book – I doubt many women would consider such an arrangement ideal, and some men would also have objections – but I’ll have to admit I personally would not have a problem with it). When Mandella returns to Earth after his first tour of duty, overpopulation has become so extreme that the world’s governments promote homosexuality, such that most people are homosexual. Later in the novel, homosexuality has come to predominate such that heterosexuals are considered abnormal (it is even suggested to Mandella that he could be “cured” of his orientation). The problem with this is of course that we now know that sexual orientation is largely inborn, and while under certain circumstances primarily heterosexual people will engage regularly in homosexual activity, either due to lack of members of the opposite sex (prisons, ships at sea) or societal encouragement (ancient Greece), it would not be possible to completely change the primary orientation of the whole population without some type of genetic engineering, and people certainly can’t be “cured” of a sexual orientation (whatever Michele Bachmann may think). But in the 1970s the idea that homosexuality was a choice was more prevalent, and with that in mind it is a little easier to ignore this flaw in what is generally a good book.
The Dragonbone Chair by Tad Williams
The Dragonbone Chair is the first book in Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn, a fantasy trilogy by Tad Williams (actually in paperback there are four books, as the last book was so long it was published in two parts). The world is an invented one, but a number of elements are closely based on real world history, most notably the human ethnic groups and the dominant religion. There are lands and peoples corresponding to the Vikings and the ancient Roman Empire, the religion is closely modeled on Christianity, and there is a figure much like the Pope. In other ways, of course, Osten Ard (as it is called) differs greatly from our world, such as the presence of magic and fantasy races. Though only two of these play major roles in The Dragonbone Chair, others are mentioned and may appear in later books. The most important non-human race is the Sithi, an immortal, pre-human race who most closely resemble fairies or elves (particularly as portrayed in Tolkien). The other race that plays an important role is the trolls (actually just one troll), who are more like gnomes or pixies than the large, dangerous trolls that populate most fantasy works.
The story opens towards the end of the long reign of Prester John (a name that appeared in medieval legends in our world), who first came to power by successfully slaying a dragon whose bones were used for his throne (thus the book’s title). As the king nears death from old age, we learn that his sons have some strong differences of opinion, with the younger son Josua particularly objecting to his elder brother’s reliance on a sinister priest named Pyrates as an adviser. Things basically deteriorate from there, though I won’t go into any details of the plot here. The main protagonist of the novel is a teenaged kitchen scullion named Simon, who was raised as an orphan in the castle. Judging from this book and the one other Tad Williams book I’ve read, The War of the Flowers, he likes using flawed protagonists who are forced to mature by the experiences they go through. Simon initially is almost unbelievably immature and flighty (even granted that he is around 15 years old and many teens are immature and flighty), though he shows improvement by the end of the book.
I obviously can’t pass judgment on this series as a whole yet, but based on the first book, Williams has woven an above average fantasy epic with a gripping plot and an interesting world behind it. The novel is not as distinctive as some others I have read (China Miéville’s novels, Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norell, Gideon’s Wall, George R.R. Martin’s Song of Ice and Fire, or even Williams’ own The War of the Flowers), containing as it does a lot of standard fantasy elements, but if the remaining volumes keep up the standards of the first, it is still worth recommending as good fantasy reading.
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Taiwan Election 2012
Last Saturday was election day in Taiwan, with elections being held for both president and the Legislative Yuan (as Taiwan's legislature is known). For anyone out there who missed the news, the incumbent President Ma Ying-jeou of the Kuomingtang (Nationalist) party won reelection over his Democratic Progressive Party challenger Tsai Ing-wen. The KMT also held on to its majority in the Legislative Yuan, winning 64 seats out of a total of 113. As anyone who has read my previous posts closely might expect, I consider this a disappointing result. While Ma is not nearly as awful as many other people in the KMT (or some in the DPP, for that matter), and KMT rule today is nothing like as bad as it was in the martial law era, the four years of his administration have not been good ones for the environment, Taiwan's sovereignty, human rights or plain good governance. I am not certain that Tsai would have been a huge improvement, but overall I have a favorable impression of her, and I think she would have done better than Ma (and better than Chen Shuibian, the DPP president who was in office before Ma).
Before the election, most polls showed Tsai and Ma as running virtually neck and neck, and Tsai was actually ahead in some of them. Also it was expected that James Soong of the so-called People First Party would take away a fairly large share of votes from Ma, perhaps enough to swing the election to Tsai. In the end, Ma won by a fairly substantial margin, getting 51.6% of the vote to 45.6% for Tsai. So what happened?
One problem is that many Taiwanese remain inherently conservative, and like voters elsewhere, they have very short memories. A lot of people seem to have completely forgotten the authoritarian rule of the KMT during the marital law era, or even view it positively as a time of growth (which it was, due to Taiwan's economic conditions at the time, not because authoritarian rule was actually conducive to growth) and order (at the expense of freedom of speech and many other liberties, but many chose to forget this). The KMT also prefers that the bad aspects of martial law be forgotten, criticizing any attempt to bring them up as divisive (if instead it faced up to and apologized for its past mistakes, I'd find it a lot easier to trust it now). Many voters now just have the vague feeling that the KMT represents stability, and so they are inclined to play it safe by voting for it (admittedly the DPP didn't help things by ruling erratically during its one period in power, though the KMT-dominated legislature of the time played a role in that as well).
One mistake that many outsiders are likely to make is seeing the Taiwanese election as purely a referendum on China policy. While the perception of the KMT as more pro-China and the DPP as more pro-Taiwan does play a role in many Taiwanese voters minds, and Ma's more China-oriented policy did win him the support of the business community (which is interested chiefly in making money in China, sovereignty and human rights be damned), domestic issues ultimately predominate in most voters' minds. For that matter, as some people have pointed out, the KMT now emphasizes Taiwan in its ads as well, claiming that its policies are the best for Taiwan. It certainly doesn't make a big point of being pro-China when it is addressing Taiwanese voters, claiming instead that it is for peace and stability. This is enough to convince many voters in the middle that the KMT is the safe choice.
The timing of the election (coincidentally?) favored the KMT somewhat. Taiwan does not have early voting or absentee voting, even within the country (though it should), so people have to vote wherever their household registration is. Many people from the south (which is strongly pro-DPP) work in the Taipei area. The election was held only a week before the Chinese New Year holiday, and many people didn't want to make a separate trip just to vote when they would be traveling to be with their families only a week later. Also, many university students had tests right up through Friday night, meaning they would have to rush back to their hometowns right after finishing their tests to vote on Saturday. How much difference this made is hard to tell. Probably not enough to change the overall results, but perhaps it could have affected particularly close races.
The KMT also had the advantages of large financial resources (even after divesting itself of some of its ill-gotten assets, it still owns a lot of businesses in Taiwan) and incumbency. Vote buying almost certainly went on in some areas, and with more money the KMT can easily buy more votes than any of its opponents. One constituency where vote buying has particularly been a problem in the past is the seats reserved for Taiwan's aboriginal population (six total, split into three for "Plains Aborigines" and three for "Mountain Aborigines). The aboriginal population is poorer and less well-educated, and there are far fewer of them (a total of only 215,000 votes elected the six legislators, with the third place candidate in the "Plains Aborigines" constituency getting elected with only 14,000 votes), which means anyone buying votes doesn't need to buy nearly as many. As a result, the KMT won four of the seats (with some pretty awful candidates), with the PFP candidate and an independent (a part-aborigine former pop singer who is disgustingly pro-China, even though Taiwanese aborigines have nothing to do with China historically) getting the other two. Our friend Mayaw Biho, on the other hand, despite having people like Ara Kimbo (胡德夫 Hu Defu), Panai Kisui (巴奈‧庫穗), Zhang Zhengyue (張震嶽), and Ilid Kaolo (以莉˙高露[小美]) campaign for him, only won 4,500 votes. Obviously the situation with aboriginal voters is particularly grim.
James Soong proved to be what I had already thought of him as, a washed-up has-been with little support, as he got less than 3% of the vote. Of course many of the people who supported him in the past tended to be even more conservative than a lot of KMT voters, and even less eager to see a DPP president. As a result, many of them probably chose to vote for Ma out of fear that Tsai would win if they didn't. But the PFP's performance in the legislative election was also weak, as it only got a little over 5% of the party vote, despite bold predictions that it would get as much as 10%. So the PFP, which is basically the James Soong party, only ended up with three seats in the legislature (parties have to get a minimum of 5% for two at-large seats, and the PFP also got one aboriginal seat).
It must also be said that this election was at least a vast improvement over the last one. Four years ago, the legislative elections and the presidential election were held separately, with the former being the first following reforms that cut the legislature in half and introduced the party vote. Some have argued that this new system favored the KMT, as several of the smallest constituencies, given a relatively greater weight in the smaller legislature, have traditionally favored the KMT, the more overwhelming support the DPP generally receives in the south did not translate into as many seats as the marginal lead the KMT has in the north, and also because the KMT could concentrate its much greater resources on fewer seats. Due to these factors and discontent with the outgoing Chen administration, the KMT won overwhelmingly, getting 87 seats to only 27 for the DPP. Since now the KMT will have 64 to 40 for the DPP, the former's majority has been reduced considerably. Likewise, in the 2008 presidential election, Ma won an landslide victory over the DPP's Frank Hsieh (admittedly a weaker candidate, in my opinion at least, than Tsai), getting 58.5% of the vote to 41.5% for Hsieh. So the DPP did far better this time (of course as 2008 was an unmitigated disaster, some improvement was to be expected).
This election was an improvement over 2012 in other ways. The Taiwan Solidarity Union, a pro-independence party inspired by former president Lee Teng-hui, only got 3.5% of the party vote in 2008 and thus failed to win any seats at all. This time it won just under 9% (compared to 44.5% for the KMT and 34.6% for the DPP) and got three seats. Some of this gain came at the expense of the DPP, which despite its poor showing overall got 36.9% of the party vote in 2008, but not all of it (the KMT's share of the party vote dropped a lot more than the DPP's, as it won 51.2% in 2008). While I have many reservations about both the TSU and the DPP and many politicians in both parties, it's good to see them do better, if only to counterbalance the overly (and, in the opinion of many, dangerously) pro-China policies of the KMT. Even better in my view was the improved showing of the Green Party. It got far less support than it should have, a mere 1.7% of the party vote, but this was a huge improvement on the 0.6% it got in 2008, and really not bad for a party whose campaigning was extremely limited in scope (for one thing, they refused to litter the streets with the flags favored by almost every other candidate and party). Other than the four parties which passed the 5% threshold for at-large seats (the KMT, DPP, TSU, and PFP), the Green Party actually did the best, outdoing the New Party, an extreme pro-China KMT splinter party that once was a real force in Taiwan politics but which only won 1.5% of the party vote (though admittedly the wacky "Free National Health Insurance Alliance" also won 1.2% of the party vote). If the Green Party can continue to increase its share of the vote, maybe in a few more elections it will be able to win seats.
Despite these bits of silver lining, overall the election results are still pretty depressing. They make me feel rather the way I feel when I see Americans elect extremist Republicans (which is most of them nowadays), Japanese vote for the LDP, Israelis vote for Likud or the religious parties, Egyptians vote for Salafists, or Europeans vote for any of the far-right parties. It certainly doesn't do much for my already shaky faith in the intelligence (or the open-mindedness) of the human race. But all we can do is keep up the struggle and hope things turn out better next time.
Before the election, most polls showed Tsai and Ma as running virtually neck and neck, and Tsai was actually ahead in some of them. Also it was expected that James Soong of the so-called People First Party would take away a fairly large share of votes from Ma, perhaps enough to swing the election to Tsai. In the end, Ma won by a fairly substantial margin, getting 51.6% of the vote to 45.6% for Tsai. So what happened?
One problem is that many Taiwanese remain inherently conservative, and like voters elsewhere, they have very short memories. A lot of people seem to have completely forgotten the authoritarian rule of the KMT during the marital law era, or even view it positively as a time of growth (which it was, due to Taiwan's economic conditions at the time, not because authoritarian rule was actually conducive to growth) and order (at the expense of freedom of speech and many other liberties, but many chose to forget this). The KMT also prefers that the bad aspects of martial law be forgotten, criticizing any attempt to bring them up as divisive (if instead it faced up to and apologized for its past mistakes, I'd find it a lot easier to trust it now). Many voters now just have the vague feeling that the KMT represents stability, and so they are inclined to play it safe by voting for it (admittedly the DPP didn't help things by ruling erratically during its one period in power, though the KMT-dominated legislature of the time played a role in that as well).
One mistake that many outsiders are likely to make is seeing the Taiwanese election as purely a referendum on China policy. While the perception of the KMT as more pro-China and the DPP as more pro-Taiwan does play a role in many Taiwanese voters minds, and Ma's more China-oriented policy did win him the support of the business community (which is interested chiefly in making money in China, sovereignty and human rights be damned), domestic issues ultimately predominate in most voters' minds. For that matter, as some people have pointed out, the KMT now emphasizes Taiwan in its ads as well, claiming that its policies are the best for Taiwan. It certainly doesn't make a big point of being pro-China when it is addressing Taiwanese voters, claiming instead that it is for peace and stability. This is enough to convince many voters in the middle that the KMT is the safe choice.
The timing of the election (coincidentally?) favored the KMT somewhat. Taiwan does not have early voting or absentee voting, even within the country (though it should), so people have to vote wherever their household registration is. Many people from the south (which is strongly pro-DPP) work in the Taipei area. The election was held only a week before the Chinese New Year holiday, and many people didn't want to make a separate trip just to vote when they would be traveling to be with their families only a week later. Also, many university students had tests right up through Friday night, meaning they would have to rush back to their hometowns right after finishing their tests to vote on Saturday. How much difference this made is hard to tell. Probably not enough to change the overall results, but perhaps it could have affected particularly close races.
The KMT also had the advantages of large financial resources (even after divesting itself of some of its ill-gotten assets, it still owns a lot of businesses in Taiwan) and incumbency. Vote buying almost certainly went on in some areas, and with more money the KMT can easily buy more votes than any of its opponents. One constituency where vote buying has particularly been a problem in the past is the seats reserved for Taiwan's aboriginal population (six total, split into three for "Plains Aborigines" and three for "Mountain Aborigines). The aboriginal population is poorer and less well-educated, and there are far fewer of them (a total of only 215,000 votes elected the six legislators, with the third place candidate in the "Plains Aborigines" constituency getting elected with only 14,000 votes), which means anyone buying votes doesn't need to buy nearly as many. As a result, the KMT won four of the seats (with some pretty awful candidates), with the PFP candidate and an independent (a part-aborigine former pop singer who is disgustingly pro-China, even though Taiwanese aborigines have nothing to do with China historically) getting the other two. Our friend Mayaw Biho, on the other hand, despite having people like Ara Kimbo (胡德夫 Hu Defu), Panai Kisui (巴奈‧庫穗), Zhang Zhengyue (張震嶽), and Ilid Kaolo (以莉˙高露[小美]) campaign for him, only won 4,500 votes. Obviously the situation with aboriginal voters is particularly grim.
James Soong proved to be what I had already thought of him as, a washed-up has-been with little support, as he got less than 3% of the vote. Of course many of the people who supported him in the past tended to be even more conservative than a lot of KMT voters, and even less eager to see a DPP president. As a result, many of them probably chose to vote for Ma out of fear that Tsai would win if they didn't. But the PFP's performance in the legislative election was also weak, as it only got a little over 5% of the party vote, despite bold predictions that it would get as much as 10%. So the PFP, which is basically the James Soong party, only ended up with three seats in the legislature (parties have to get a minimum of 5% for two at-large seats, and the PFP also got one aboriginal seat).
It must also be said that this election was at least a vast improvement over the last one. Four years ago, the legislative elections and the presidential election were held separately, with the former being the first following reforms that cut the legislature in half and introduced the party vote. Some have argued that this new system favored the KMT, as several of the smallest constituencies, given a relatively greater weight in the smaller legislature, have traditionally favored the KMT, the more overwhelming support the DPP generally receives in the south did not translate into as many seats as the marginal lead the KMT has in the north, and also because the KMT could concentrate its much greater resources on fewer seats. Due to these factors and discontent with the outgoing Chen administration, the KMT won overwhelmingly, getting 87 seats to only 27 for the DPP. Since now the KMT will have 64 to 40 for the DPP, the former's majority has been reduced considerably. Likewise, in the 2008 presidential election, Ma won an landslide victory over the DPP's Frank Hsieh (admittedly a weaker candidate, in my opinion at least, than Tsai), getting 58.5% of the vote to 41.5% for Hsieh. So the DPP did far better this time (of course as 2008 was an unmitigated disaster, some improvement was to be expected).
This election was an improvement over 2012 in other ways. The Taiwan Solidarity Union, a pro-independence party inspired by former president Lee Teng-hui, only got 3.5% of the party vote in 2008 and thus failed to win any seats at all. This time it won just under 9% (compared to 44.5% for the KMT and 34.6% for the DPP) and got three seats. Some of this gain came at the expense of the DPP, which despite its poor showing overall got 36.9% of the party vote in 2008, but not all of it (the KMT's share of the party vote dropped a lot more than the DPP's, as it won 51.2% in 2008). While I have many reservations about both the TSU and the DPP and many politicians in both parties, it's good to see them do better, if only to counterbalance the overly (and, in the opinion of many, dangerously) pro-China policies of the KMT. Even better in my view was the improved showing of the Green Party. It got far less support than it should have, a mere 1.7% of the party vote, but this was a huge improvement on the 0.6% it got in 2008, and really not bad for a party whose campaigning was extremely limited in scope (for one thing, they refused to litter the streets with the flags favored by almost every other candidate and party). Other than the four parties which passed the 5% threshold for at-large seats (the KMT, DPP, TSU, and PFP), the Green Party actually did the best, outdoing the New Party, an extreme pro-China KMT splinter party that once was a real force in Taiwan politics but which only won 1.5% of the party vote (though admittedly the wacky "Free National Health Insurance Alliance" also won 1.2% of the party vote). If the Green Party can continue to increase its share of the vote, maybe in a few more elections it will be able to win seats.
Despite these bits of silver lining, overall the election results are still pretty depressing. They make me feel rather the way I feel when I see Americans elect extremist Republicans (which is most of them nowadays), Japanese vote for the LDP, Israelis vote for Likud or the religious parties, Egyptians vote for Salafists, or Europeans vote for any of the far-right parties. It certainly doesn't do much for my already shaky faith in the intelligence (or the open-mindedness) of the human race. But all we can do is keep up the struggle and hope things turn out better next time.
Sunday, January 8, 2012
What's in a Name?
Back in 2010, I was living in a place called Taipei County. Now I am living in what is in English officially called New Taipei City. Did I move? No, it's just that a week before the end of 2010, what was once known as Taipei County (台北縣, a distinct entity from the city of Taipei, which in Chinese is known as 台北市 or Taipei City) was re-designated 新北市, which in Hanyu romanization is written as Xinbei Shi and literally translates as New North City (the old "north city" being Taipei, the name of which means "Taiwan North"). All of the smaller cities within Taipei County (essentially the suburbs of Taipei), became districts of this new city. Originally the new city was to be known in English as Xinbei City, based on the romanization of the Chinese, but the mayor insisted on "New Taipei City".
So what useful purpose did this change of names serve? None, really, except for political -- as a "special municipality" the so-called New Taipei City is equal in political status to the "special municipalities" of Taipei and Kaohsiung, as well as Taichung and Tainan, existing cities which were also given "special municipality" at the same time New Taipei City was created. In reality, New Taipei City is the same place it was as Taipei County, basically an urban extension of Taipei. As far as I am concerned, the renaming was basically pointless, and just means that I had to get used to writing my address differently.
This does not mean, however, that I think names don't matter. In many situations, they matter a great deal, and Taiwan is home to many examples of significant naming issues. In fact the nation itself is a good example. Officially, it is still known as "the Republic of China" after the Kuomintang (Nationalist) regime which ruled China until its defeat at the hands of the Communists over 60 years ago. Even though the actual territory ruled by "the Republic of China" since then has consisted of Taiwan and a few small outlying islands, both Communist-ruled China and a small but vocal pro-China minority in Taiwan strongly oppose any efforts to rename the country to something more logical like "the Republic of Taiwan", because they seemingly imagine that having "China" in the country's official name somehow keeps it more closely tied to China itself (of course the Chinese government does not officially recognize the name "the Republic of China" either, calling Taiwan "Taiwan, Province of China" in order to maintain the fiction that they rule Taiwan, but they still oppose in change in the name they don't recognize). A good analogy would be if Hawaii became split off from the continental United States but still insisted on calling itself "the United States of America", or if Sicily split from Italy but still called itself "the Republic of Italy".
This sort of political use of names has a long history in Taiwan (as it does elsewhere, but for today I will focus on Taiwan only). As far back as the Qing dynasty, the first China-based regime to rule parts of Taiwan, several Taiwanese cities had their names changed because the Qing government felt the new names would somehow encourage obedience on the part of Taiwan's restive population. For instance, Zhuluo (named for an aboriginal village) was changed to Jiayi (good and proper), and Banhsian ("half-line", also named for an aboriginal village) was changed to Zhanghua (translated by one scholar as "manifest the influence of the empire").
When the Kuomintang (KMT) came to Taiwan, they changed names throughout Taiwan to fit their ideology and political purposes. Practically every town and city in Taiwan has streets named Minsheng, Minquan, and Minzu (after Sun Yat-sen's Three Principles of the People) as well as Zhongshan (after Sun Yat-sen himself) and Zhongzheng (after Chiang Kai-shek, the self-declared successor of Sun). There are even many streets called Jieshou, which means "long life to Chiang Kai-shek" (or Jiang Jieshi as he is called in Mandarin). A large number of street names in Taipei were renamed for cities and provinces in China, and many of the districts of the city were also renamed for political purposes. Thus there are Zhongshan and Zhongzheng districts, as well as districts with names corresponding to various concepts in KMT political ideology, like Datong. Even Taipei's most prominent mountain, Cao (Grass) Mountain was renamed by Chiang Kai-shek to commemorate Neo-Confucian scholar Wang Yangming. All of this renaming was done in an effort to promote the idea that Taiwan was closely tied to China.
In a very few cases, some streets and places have been renamed by governments headed by the more Taiwan-oriented DPP, but most of these rather absurdly ideological names remain in place, and efforts to change them often meet strong resistance from the KMT and its supporters. One reason they commonly bring up is that it costs a lot to change all of the street signs and addresses to conform to the new name. But if this is a valid reason for opposing any changes, then the same argument should apply to the recent renaming of Taipei County and other places. For my part, while I realize that it would be difficult to make wholesale changes in a short period of time, I would like to see all place names and street names in Taiwan depoliticized gradually, preferably by restoring the original names. While we shouldn't exaggerate the importance of names, they should as much as possible reflect reality, and they shouldn't be used as propaganda for outdated political ideologies. So while I'm willing to live with "New Taipei City", I'd like to get rid of all the "Zhongzheng" roads and such as soon as practicable.
So what useful purpose did this change of names serve? None, really, except for political -- as a "special municipality" the so-called New Taipei City is equal in political status to the "special municipalities" of Taipei and Kaohsiung, as well as Taichung and Tainan, existing cities which were also given "special municipality" at the same time New Taipei City was created. In reality, New Taipei City is the same place it was as Taipei County, basically an urban extension of Taipei. As far as I am concerned, the renaming was basically pointless, and just means that I had to get used to writing my address differently.
This does not mean, however, that I think names don't matter. In many situations, they matter a great deal, and Taiwan is home to many examples of significant naming issues. In fact the nation itself is a good example. Officially, it is still known as "the Republic of China" after the Kuomintang (Nationalist) regime which ruled China until its defeat at the hands of the Communists over 60 years ago. Even though the actual territory ruled by "the Republic of China" since then has consisted of Taiwan and a few small outlying islands, both Communist-ruled China and a small but vocal pro-China minority in Taiwan strongly oppose any efforts to rename the country to something more logical like "the Republic of Taiwan", because they seemingly imagine that having "China" in the country's official name somehow keeps it more closely tied to China itself (of course the Chinese government does not officially recognize the name "the Republic of China" either, calling Taiwan "Taiwan, Province of China" in order to maintain the fiction that they rule Taiwan, but they still oppose in change in the name they don't recognize). A good analogy would be if Hawaii became split off from the continental United States but still insisted on calling itself "the United States of America", or if Sicily split from Italy but still called itself "the Republic of Italy".
This sort of political use of names has a long history in Taiwan (as it does elsewhere, but for today I will focus on Taiwan only). As far back as the Qing dynasty, the first China-based regime to rule parts of Taiwan, several Taiwanese cities had their names changed because the Qing government felt the new names would somehow encourage obedience on the part of Taiwan's restive population. For instance, Zhuluo (named for an aboriginal village) was changed to Jiayi (good and proper), and Banhsian ("half-line", also named for an aboriginal village) was changed to Zhanghua (translated by one scholar as "manifest the influence of the empire").
When the Kuomintang (KMT) came to Taiwan, they changed names throughout Taiwan to fit their ideology and political purposes. Practically every town and city in Taiwan has streets named Minsheng, Minquan, and Minzu (after Sun Yat-sen's Three Principles of the People) as well as Zhongshan (after Sun Yat-sen himself) and Zhongzheng (after Chiang Kai-shek, the self-declared successor of Sun). There are even many streets called Jieshou, which means "long life to Chiang Kai-shek" (or Jiang Jieshi as he is called in Mandarin). A large number of street names in Taipei were renamed for cities and provinces in China, and many of the districts of the city were also renamed for political purposes. Thus there are Zhongshan and Zhongzheng districts, as well as districts with names corresponding to various concepts in KMT political ideology, like Datong. Even Taipei's most prominent mountain, Cao (Grass) Mountain was renamed by Chiang Kai-shek to commemorate Neo-Confucian scholar Wang Yangming. All of this renaming was done in an effort to promote the idea that Taiwan was closely tied to China.
In a very few cases, some streets and places have been renamed by governments headed by the more Taiwan-oriented DPP, but most of these rather absurdly ideological names remain in place, and efforts to change them often meet strong resistance from the KMT and its supporters. One reason they commonly bring up is that it costs a lot to change all of the street signs and addresses to conform to the new name. But if this is a valid reason for opposing any changes, then the same argument should apply to the recent renaming of Taipei County and other places. For my part, while I realize that it would be difficult to make wholesale changes in a short period of time, I would like to see all place names and street names in Taiwan depoliticized gradually, preferably by restoring the original names. While we shouldn't exaggerate the importance of names, they should as much as possible reflect reality, and they shouldn't be used as propaganda for outdated political ideologies. So while I'm willing to live with "New Taipei City", I'd like to get rid of all the "Zhongzheng" roads and such as soon as practicable.
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Year in Review
While I have a couple of posts on different topics in the works (or just in my head), for my last post of the year, I've decided to do as so many media sources do at this time of year and take a brief look back at the events of the past 12 months. Aside from noting key events, I'll also look back to my first post of the year, which talked about several developments happening around the world at that time.
The most dramatic event of the year was of course the Arab Spring, as the series of revolts and protests in West Asia and North Africa have come to be referred to, and it is still to early to say what will ultimately come out of that. At least three dictators have been overthrown, and two are under threat (in Yemen, Saleh is theoretically on his way out already, but given his past record it would be unwise to count on his following through). In other countries protests have at least shaken the establishment and in a few cases forced at least a few reforms. But while the situation in Tunisia looks reasonably good at this point, it remains to be seen whether the changes elsewhere will really result in better societies. In Egypt, the religious problems I mentioned in my first post of the year remain, and the military has engaged in behavior just as bad as the Mubarak regime. One of the most egregious examples came just the other day, when they raided the offices of various foreign non-governmental organizations that promote democracy and human rights. The US government rightly condemned the raids, which went beyond anything even Mubarak did, but they should go further and start moving to dramatically reduce the US$1.3 billion the Egyptian military receives from the US annually unless immediate changes are made in the military's behavior and rhetoric (the Egyptian generals may in return threaten to abrogate the peace treaty with Israel, but this is unlikely to be in their interest, especially since the US could in return threaten to end aid entirely). Events like these, and the relative success of the radical Islamists in the recent elections, do not bode well for Egypt, nor does the continuing instability in Libya look good. But there is still reason to hope that the Arab Spring will ultimately result in a Middle East that is an improvement on what existed before this year.
The death of Osama bin Laden was also significant, though in the grand scheme of things it probably had less impact than many other events (certainly less than, say, the overthrow and death of Muammar Gaddafi. The continuing problems in Pakistan, the country where bin Laden was killed, are worrisome. The religious extremism that I talked about in my first post of the year is still an issue, and is not only a threat to the country's Christians, but also to minority Muslim sects. It remains an open question whether secular, liberal values have much hope of winning out over the strong current of religious extremism there. Religious conflict is also a problem in Nigeria, where the sides are more equal and thus more equally to blame (it's true that much of the recent violence has been instigated by a radical Islamic group, but Christians have also committed violence against innocent Muslims).
Some issues I talked about early in the year did resolve more or less satisfactorily, such as the situation in Côte d'Ivoire, where Laurent Gbagbo was finally forced out, though not without bloodshed and atrocities committed by both sides (I have not heard how much effort the new president Alassane Ouattara has put into investigating these). Others continue pretty much as before, such as China's oppression of its colonial possessions Tibet and East Turkestan, though in Tibet we have seen some dramatic and tragic protests against Chinese rule in the form of self-immolation by a number of monks and nuns. In Russia, another country whose steps against free speech I noted in the beginning of the year, recent protests following the country's legislative elections, which despite possible ballot-stuffing still did not go that well for the ruling party. show that more Russians are getting fed up with Putin's autocratic rule, though whether he will respond by moderating his ruling style or just becoming more authoritarian in his methods remains to be seen. As for the other problematic case I mentioned, the Indian government's imprisonment of human rights activist Binayak Sen on questionable charges, that seems to remain in limbo at the moment, though hopefully activists are continuing to put pressure on the Indian government.
In the US, things continue to look fairly bleak as extreme views run rampant among the Republicans, though on the plus side it has been amusing to watch an endless series of candidates rise to the top of the polls and then implode. Still, while absurd, downright disturbing views exist on both sides of the political spectrum (something I hope to get around to addressing further in the future), it is particularly disturbing to see how mainstream such views have become on the right, to the extent that many politicians who hold fairly conservative views (including a few Democrats) are now called "moderates". From the failure of the shooting of Representative Gabrielle Giffords and several others at the beginning of the year to generate any meaningful gun control legislation to the endless efforts of the GOP to gut social spending in favor of maintaining tax breaks for the wealthy, little of what has happened in the US political scene has been good, though there have been a few minor positives. One can only hope the electorate will realize where to place most of the blame (hint: despite his obvious failings, not with Barack Obama) in time for the elections late next year.
Here in Taiwan, the elections are fast approaching. With President Ma Ying-jeou's decline in the polls and the perennial also-ran James Soong's entry into the race, DPP candidate Tsai Ing-wen's chance are looking reasonably good, though with Ma's advantage of incumbency I'd call it a pretty even race at this point. Just as important will be the legislative elections. I would especially like to see some of the worst legislators (from both major parties, though with the KMT's large majority and its overall corrupt nature, it has by far the most) voted out, and some of the better new candidates voted in. It would be particularly nice to see the Green Party get into the legislature (though considering the record of the voters from the last election, their ability to look beyond the big parties to small ones who never get any media attention is questionable). I'd also like to see the Pangcah (Amis) documentary filmmaker and activist Mayaw Biho, who I have met several times myself and is being supported by many of my friends, be voted into one of the aboriginal seats as an independent.
In conclusion, whether it's been a good year or not is difficult to say, especially since the answer depends greatly on your perspective and your main concerns. But without doubt it has been an eventful one.
The most dramatic event of the year was of course the Arab Spring, as the series of revolts and protests in West Asia and North Africa have come to be referred to, and it is still to early to say what will ultimately come out of that. At least three dictators have been overthrown, and two are under threat (in Yemen, Saleh is theoretically on his way out already, but given his past record it would be unwise to count on his following through). In other countries protests have at least shaken the establishment and in a few cases forced at least a few reforms. But while the situation in Tunisia looks reasonably good at this point, it remains to be seen whether the changes elsewhere will really result in better societies. In Egypt, the religious problems I mentioned in my first post of the year remain, and the military has engaged in behavior just as bad as the Mubarak regime. One of the most egregious examples came just the other day, when they raided the offices of various foreign non-governmental organizations that promote democracy and human rights. The US government rightly condemned the raids, which went beyond anything even Mubarak did, but they should go further and start moving to dramatically reduce the US$1.3 billion the Egyptian military receives from the US annually unless immediate changes are made in the military's behavior and rhetoric (the Egyptian generals may in return threaten to abrogate the peace treaty with Israel, but this is unlikely to be in their interest, especially since the US could in return threaten to end aid entirely). Events like these, and the relative success of the radical Islamists in the recent elections, do not bode well for Egypt, nor does the continuing instability in Libya look good. But there is still reason to hope that the Arab Spring will ultimately result in a Middle East that is an improvement on what existed before this year.
The death of Osama bin Laden was also significant, though in the grand scheme of things it probably had less impact than many other events (certainly less than, say, the overthrow and death of Muammar Gaddafi. The continuing problems in Pakistan, the country where bin Laden was killed, are worrisome. The religious extremism that I talked about in my first post of the year is still an issue, and is not only a threat to the country's Christians, but also to minority Muslim sects. It remains an open question whether secular, liberal values have much hope of winning out over the strong current of religious extremism there. Religious conflict is also a problem in Nigeria, where the sides are more equal and thus more equally to blame (it's true that much of the recent violence has been instigated by a radical Islamic group, but Christians have also committed violence against innocent Muslims).
Some issues I talked about early in the year did resolve more or less satisfactorily, such as the situation in Côte d'Ivoire, where Laurent Gbagbo was finally forced out, though not without bloodshed and atrocities committed by both sides (I have not heard how much effort the new president Alassane Ouattara has put into investigating these). Others continue pretty much as before, such as China's oppression of its colonial possessions Tibet and East Turkestan, though in Tibet we have seen some dramatic and tragic protests against Chinese rule in the form of self-immolation by a number of monks and nuns. In Russia, another country whose steps against free speech I noted in the beginning of the year, recent protests following the country's legislative elections, which despite possible ballot-stuffing still did not go that well for the ruling party. show that more Russians are getting fed up with Putin's autocratic rule, though whether he will respond by moderating his ruling style or just becoming more authoritarian in his methods remains to be seen. As for the other problematic case I mentioned, the Indian government's imprisonment of human rights activist Binayak Sen on questionable charges, that seems to remain in limbo at the moment, though hopefully activists are continuing to put pressure on the Indian government.
In the US, things continue to look fairly bleak as extreme views run rampant among the Republicans, though on the plus side it has been amusing to watch an endless series of candidates rise to the top of the polls and then implode. Still, while absurd, downright disturbing views exist on both sides of the political spectrum (something I hope to get around to addressing further in the future), it is particularly disturbing to see how mainstream such views have become on the right, to the extent that many politicians who hold fairly conservative views (including a few Democrats) are now called "moderates". From the failure of the shooting of Representative Gabrielle Giffords and several others at the beginning of the year to generate any meaningful gun control legislation to the endless efforts of the GOP to gut social spending in favor of maintaining tax breaks for the wealthy, little of what has happened in the US political scene has been good, though there have been a few minor positives. One can only hope the electorate will realize where to place most of the blame (hint: despite his obvious failings, not with Barack Obama) in time for the elections late next year.
Here in Taiwan, the elections are fast approaching. With President Ma Ying-jeou's decline in the polls and the perennial also-ran James Soong's entry into the race, DPP candidate Tsai Ing-wen's chance are looking reasonably good, though with Ma's advantage of incumbency I'd call it a pretty even race at this point. Just as important will be the legislative elections. I would especially like to see some of the worst legislators (from both major parties, though with the KMT's large majority and its overall corrupt nature, it has by far the most) voted out, and some of the better new candidates voted in. It would be particularly nice to see the Green Party get into the legislature (though considering the record of the voters from the last election, their ability to look beyond the big parties to small ones who never get any media attention is questionable). I'd also like to see the Pangcah (Amis) documentary filmmaker and activist Mayaw Biho, who I have met several times myself and is being supported by many of my friends, be voted into one of the aboriginal seats as an independent.
In conclusion, whether it's been a good year or not is difficult to say, especially since the answer depends greatly on your perspective and your main concerns. But without doubt it has been an eventful one.
Monday, December 19, 2011
An "Invented" People?
Not long ago, the latest in the long line of "anti-Romney" Republican presidential candidates, Newt Gingrich, caused a controversy when he said the Palestinians were an "invented" people. That Gingrich would say something like that came as little surprise; he's made all sorts of outrageous comments in the past, and now that he's trying to win over the lunatic fringe that makes up the biggest block of Republican primary voters, he's got to compete with a field of other candidates who are constantly trying to outdo each other in taking extreme positions on various issues (it's a scary sign when ol' weather vane himself Mitt Romney ends up sounding like a voice of reason -- I'd mention Jon Huntsman, who is certainly the best of a bad bunch, but he's got about as much chance of winning the Republican nomination as Barack Obama would of winning a "best president" poll at a convention of teabaggers). But it's worth examining more closely what is wrong with Gingrich's assertion.
The problem is not so much the factual accuracy of the statement; in certain ways, one could indeed argue that the Palestinians are an invented people. The problem is that by the same standards, many of the world's ethnic groups and nationalities are also "invented" and in some ways all peoples are invented peoples. Yes, Palestinians are Arabs who in many ways are indistinguishable from other Arabs in the region and historically they never had their own independent state. But having had a independent state is not a necessary qualification for existing as a separate people. Many other peoples have never had their own state; in the same part of the world, the Kurds are a good example. As for being similar to other Arabs, the main thing that distinguishes Palestinians from other Arabs is their historical experience as residents of Palestine, a history that is quite distinct from that of Arabs living elsewhere. Many other nationalities and ethnic groups exist as separate peoples due to similar accidents of geography and history. If the Palestinians are not a "genuine" people, then what of the Austrians? Are they just Germans? Are Australians and New Zealanders distinct peoples? How about Americans and Canadians?
All existing ethnic groups and nationalities developed distinct identities over periods of time, often based on quite small differences. Some such differences include religion (the main difference between Serbs and Croats is that one group is Orthodox while the other is Catholic) and geography (as with the groups mentioned in the previous paragraph). I doubt Newt Gingrich would call the Americans an "invented" people, but they are as much one as the Palestinians. Until they revolted from Britain in the 18th century, they were considered British by most people, even themselves.
I personally think people make far too much of ethnicity and nationality, since the differences between different peoples are far less than the variations within each group, and ultimately we all have the same ancestors. I would be quite happy if all people could learn to ignore things such as ethnicity, except as something that adds more color to each individual. But there is no denying the power that a common identity has for most groups, whatever the conditions under which it arose. It has been said, for instance, that the distinction between Tutsis and Hutus in nations such as Rwanda was largely a creation of European colonialists and their ignorant racial theories. But the distinction is nevertheless real now, even if both groups would be much better off if they could forget about it. Claiming that the Palestinians are an "invented" people is about as useful for solving the real problems of the Middle East as saying the same thing about the Israelis would be.
On an unrelated note, I would also like to note the regrettable death of Vaclav Havel, who was one of the most outstanding leaders in Eastern Europe in the past century. Far less regrettable, but perhaps of more immediate consequence, is the death of Kim Jong-il, the ruler of the bizarrely warped nation of North Korea. It seems his even more enigmatic son will succeed him, though what that will mean for the region remains to be seen, assuming he is indeed able to consolidate power. Few nations are as dangerously screwed up as North Korea, and it's hard to know what to hope for, as its continued existence is a menace to all its neighbors as well as a torment to the majority of its poor, half-starved, brainwashed people, but a collapse would be a humanitarian disaster. We'll just have to wait and see.
The problem is not so much the factual accuracy of the statement; in certain ways, one could indeed argue that the Palestinians are an invented people. The problem is that by the same standards, many of the world's ethnic groups and nationalities are also "invented" and in some ways all peoples are invented peoples. Yes, Palestinians are Arabs who in many ways are indistinguishable from other Arabs in the region and historically they never had their own independent state. But having had a independent state is not a necessary qualification for existing as a separate people. Many other peoples have never had their own state; in the same part of the world, the Kurds are a good example. As for being similar to other Arabs, the main thing that distinguishes Palestinians from other Arabs is their historical experience as residents of Palestine, a history that is quite distinct from that of Arabs living elsewhere. Many other nationalities and ethnic groups exist as separate peoples due to similar accidents of geography and history. If the Palestinians are not a "genuine" people, then what of the Austrians? Are they just Germans? Are Australians and New Zealanders distinct peoples? How about Americans and Canadians?
All existing ethnic groups and nationalities developed distinct identities over periods of time, often based on quite small differences. Some such differences include religion (the main difference between Serbs and Croats is that one group is Orthodox while the other is Catholic) and geography (as with the groups mentioned in the previous paragraph). I doubt Newt Gingrich would call the Americans an "invented" people, but they are as much one as the Palestinians. Until they revolted from Britain in the 18th century, they were considered British by most people, even themselves.
I personally think people make far too much of ethnicity and nationality, since the differences between different peoples are far less than the variations within each group, and ultimately we all have the same ancestors. I would be quite happy if all people could learn to ignore things such as ethnicity, except as something that adds more color to each individual. But there is no denying the power that a common identity has for most groups, whatever the conditions under which it arose. It has been said, for instance, that the distinction between Tutsis and Hutus in nations such as Rwanda was largely a creation of European colonialists and their ignorant racial theories. But the distinction is nevertheless real now, even if both groups would be much better off if they could forget about it. Claiming that the Palestinians are an "invented" people is about as useful for solving the real problems of the Middle East as saying the same thing about the Israelis would be.
On an unrelated note, I would also like to note the regrettable death of Vaclav Havel, who was one of the most outstanding leaders in Eastern Europe in the past century. Far less regrettable, but perhaps of more immediate consequence, is the death of Kim Jong-il, the ruler of the bizarrely warped nation of North Korea. It seems his even more enigmatic son will succeed him, though what that will mean for the region remains to be seen, assuming he is indeed able to consolidate power. Few nations are as dangerously screwed up as North Korea, and it's hard to know what to hope for, as its continued existence is a menace to all its neighbors as well as a torment to the majority of its poor, half-starved, brainwashed people, but a collapse would be a humanitarian disaster. We'll just have to wait and see.
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