Holding Out For a Hero

To the individualist, observing a collectivist culture can be alarming. Before proceeding with this thought, though, collectivism needs to be provided with certain parameters for the sake of this post. As with most ideologies, there are varying degrees of collectivism. The American mind, for argument's sake, is decidedly individualist. This is echoed in favoured American expressions such as, "it's my right" and "that's not gonna work for me", for instance. The truly collectivist mind does not think in this manner. He or she less readily volunteers an opinion without consulting the peer group.

Another example of individualism vs. collectivism might lie in the concept of the hero and the worship of it. The title, hero, and the fact that it classifies someone in possession of a virtuous personality, probably came from a need to provide soldiers with some kind of boon for their more selfless wartime actions. The title was bestowed on all who served the grand ruler of a particular society, such as emperors, kings, queens and presidents. Indeed it is a title still in use today and it has also become a means of coaxing the individualist into actions that she or he might never otherwise consider.

The notion of heroism became a tainted concept amongst nations such as Germany, for which the ideologies of Nazism are to blame, and Australia, who fought many a war for Queen and Country, but whose country served as Britain's surplus stock. The hero, therefore, is an individualist concept that does not resonate with everyone. Certain cultures simply do not approach heroism with the same  fervour as others and might therefore be classified as collectivist.

However, the argument I would like to raise in this post revolves around a higher degree of collectivism. Within western cultures, some might prove less idiosyncratic than others, but for the most part, we approach our quotidian activities in fundamentally similar ways. On international turf, there is a much more profound difference between western thinking and an African or Asian mindset.

Essentially, a western mind subscribes to Descartes's famous philosophy, "I think therefore I am". It is the only proof we have that we exist at all. What separates us from the animals? We think. Why do we contemplate the human condition at all? We think. And that is why we are. One might even go as far as to say that "I think therefore I am" sets an anxious mind at a certain ease.

A few years ago in an interview with South African entrepreneur, Steuart Pennington, co-founder of South Africa: The Good News, he explained something very valuable to me, at least concerning this trail of thought. There is a life's philosophy, predominantly amongst black South Africans, called Ubuntu. In his terms, it means "I am because we are". This philosophy is said to represent the mindsets of most Africans. The term is used in an official capacity in political debate, serves as a means of classifying what separates black South Africans from the white and/or other South African races, and has even become the name of a Linux operating system. Ubuntu raises a debate, not without controversy, entirely separate from the one at hand, which we will not delve into here, but it does provide a foundation with which to describe collectivist thought.

The individualist perspective, I think therefore I am, is a self-centred one, whether or not one believes that self interest is a good thing. The collectivist mindset, I am because we are, involves the individual in relation to his or her society. Collectivism would therefore seem selfless, but like all good and noble ideas, it is only as strong as its weakest link and perhaps not so ironically, the weakest link often occupies the throne. In Africa, the tribal system ensures that the leaders benefit most, unfortunately echoing too loudly Orwell's single commandment from Animal Farm, "All animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others".

Asia would appear to face a similar challenge, but the Asian brand of collectivism, essentially informed by Confucius, is more apparent within its cultural nuances. Considering the Koreas, for instance, North Korea exercises absolute control over its society. Every megabyte of information about that country is shrouded in propaganda and mystery. South Korea, on the other hand, has become a strange and conflicting Asian culture. Its unending history of fending off invasions, both physical and cultural, from both China and Japan has resulted in a seldom more persistent culture. If the answer is no, keep asking, is the Korean way. In that way, they resisted integration into China in the middle ages and somehow retained their Korean identity through a 60-year-long Japanese rule from 1905 - 1965.

Nowadays, South Korea is embracing the lifestyle of their hero culture, the America that liberated them from the Japanese. Yet despite the influx of American commerce (Starbucks, Costco, Subway, Nike, Hollister, et al.) and how it has come to define modern Korean pop culture, Korean persistence remains their ultimate trait. In their own way, they have, as a collective, begun to take the popular world brands and put their own spin on it. The result is a string of not-quite-Italian restaurants, not-quite-burger joints and not-quite-right-fitting clothes. In the same way, Koreans have given rise to their own brand of English, too, known colloquially as Konglish, which is the result, as in most languages that have ever borrowed, of simply not having the naturally occuring vocabulary for things that did not exist in the language before the concept was introduced to the culture. But the point is that it works for the local populace, catering to its taste, tongue and bodily proportions.

The trouble with selective integration is not in food or clothing, but in spiritual matters. I would go so far as to say that the Christian faith has nowhere else in Asia overtaken indigenous religions at quite the same rate as in South Korea. When I visited Korea seven years ago, Christianity comprised approximately 25% of their collective religion. Now, Christianity is by far the most dominant religion. Furthermore, as with so much else, their particular brand of Christianity was sourced from America, mostly from Evangelism, an offshoot of the Christian faith notorious for inducing mass hysteria in its practices. It would make sense that a largely collectivist culture would embrace one of the most crowd-centred of Christian churches. The Evangelists have no doubt had a great hand in their Korean dissemination.

Although much has changed in the west, the power of mass influence through religion is rife in Africa and Asia. Much of Asia might not practice classical religion, but religious thinking is what allows North Korea to be a dictatorship. The great leader simply assumes the role of God and for the rest, rules with fear as his ally. And despite China's apparent freedom, their conservative Confucianist mindset is what makes their unbalance of governmental power work. In the run-up to the most recent South African national elections a few years ago, the Mail & Guardian reported that Jacob Zuma, in a speech to a crowd of Zulu supporters, uttered that Jesus wanted him to be president and that is why they should vote for him. The danger, in all cases considered, lies not necessarily in leadership, which is a worry, but in the fact that these leaders enjoy so much support from their people. They craft great myths to surround them in a air of wonderment and the troublesome thing is that people want to fall for it. People, even collectivists, have an insatiable need for a hero.

The truth is that change is a slow process, even despite today's rapidly changing socio-economic climate. By the time revolution hangs in the air, the cogs had been turning for awhile. Many of us still cling to a good story when we should perhaps place our political trust in the hands of gifted administrators. On the other hand, given the benefit of hindsight on the Mbeki presidency in South Africa, charm is a valuable component of the process. It is perhaps just a little more than prudent that we beware the charmers who coax us into accepting archaic styles of governance, such as divine rule and papacy, although that has always been true. I suspect that most politicians, like most performers, realise that they are only as good as their last show, but as with so much else, the craft has become so impeccably well developed.

Hanfred Rauch

Them Bones

We have come to know the Swedes as a nation with a somewhat larger capacity for strange perversions than most. Perhaps it is not that they are more perverse, but somehow their extra-curricular activities seem better publicised than those of other nations, Stieg Larson's Millenium trilogy being only a recent example of this. But few things can prepare one for the true story of a woman on trial for having sex with a skeleton.

Of all the existing perversions, necrophilia included, this must be the most absurd. For a dermaphile, such as myself, particularly a lover of live flesh, I find it utterly inconceivable that anyone could derive sexual pleasure from a skeleton. On the other hand, you don't get more naked than that.

What is interesting about the story, is that she is on trial and stands to be jailed for up to two years for disturbance of the dead. It never occurred to me that one could stand trial for such an act. My view on sexuality is that there is no wrongful practice of it, unless choice is taken away and hurt is inflicted without consent. In the case of a skeleton, one might argue that the ship has sailed. Hurt can no longer be inflicted on the victim. On the other hand, is it not good that there are such laws in place? Are people who have it off with skeletons necessarily welcome in society? Is a sentence of two years in prison enough?

Hanfred Rauch

The Eye of the Naked Beholder (or The Eye of the Beholber of Nakedness)

Who would have thought that in a time when a simple trip to the mall exposed one to a smorgasbord of Abercrombie and Fitch-like images depicting male nudity, would an art exhibition in Vienna become the source of so much controversy? It is possible that most of the arising conflict stemmed more from the Leopold Museum's marketing strategy, which depicted three French footballers wearing nothing but their red, white and blue socks and football boots, than from the exhibition itself. Perhaps they asked for it - people should, after all, have some choice in when they are exposed to a phallus when commuting to work while digesting their breakfast. Or shouldn't they? How often have we been exposed to female nudity without it reaching the news?

Artistically, depictions of any nudity have traditionally sought to explore a beauty that all humanity is able to appreciate. Whether an emperor or slave took of their clothes, the result was the same. Being naked expresses a vulnerability that pulses through us all, no matter what our class, race, or culture. Some cultures, however, approach the subject more liberally. Scandinavia, The Netherlands and Germany, historically perhaps the least Catholic of the Europeans, have managed to remove taboo from the subject altogether, which has come to define their cultures to some extent.

As for the nations that once belonged to the British Empire, it is possible that their view on nudity carries a modicum of Victorian baggage. An era in which bearing witness to a sexual act, or even nudity for that matter, could result in being jailed was bound to leave an imprint on societies' view over the unmentionables. While I am not one to condemn conservatism at large, I do believe that when society shrouds nudity and sex in a dark cloud, personal sexual development, at least from a psychological perspective, is either inhibited or becomes the root of extreme sexual behaviour later on. On the other hand, of course, being brought up in a society where nothing regarding sexuality is taboo, some individuals may find it difficult to distinguish between when sex is appropriate to a conversation or situation or not.

What the Leopold Museum exhibition seems to have triggered, though, is more of a reaction to male nudity than nudity in general. The public seems quite aware of its discrimination on the matter and it is quite interesting to consider why. Traditionally, the female body is something to be beheld - the object of male affection. And since men are generally more interested in sex than women are, the thought of it said to occur to us once every seven minutes, less of a taste was probably developed for viewing the naked male form. From a reproductive standpoint, this makes absolute sense. The male's physical attraction to the female is what makes intercourse possible. It is possible that the status quo regarding nudity on display was born of this dynamic between the sexes. In time, feminism and queer theory came to challenge this point of view, but popular media and art remained predominantly centred around the traditional dynamic.

I could venture a guess as to why the naked male form still elicits so much dispute. Once again, viewed traditionally, it is what the male form represents that gets exhibitions such as the Viennese one in question so much attention. The female is prey to the male's predator, if I may. The human female succumbs to the male's advances, or else sex does not take place, unless usurped. How much the female succumbs is all part of the game. This dynamic may also represent one of offense and defense. Since the female is the recipient of sex, traditionally speaking, she takes on the defensive position, whereas the male is on the offense. Strictly from this point of view, the male then represents an attack of sorts, which might explain why the sight of a random naked male can cause such reaction, even in modern-day continental Europe.

Furthermore, and this is perhaps the only reason why an exhibition of male nudity generates the reaction that it does, we should perhaps not ignore the role genitalia plays in the matter. A man's genitals are nothing if not conspicuous compared to that of the fairer sex. There are, of course, publications that serve more as an anatomical lesson of a woman's naughty bits, but predominantly the female form is eroticised by suggestion rather than magnification. Once again, however, the penis and testicles leave far less to the imagination than a woman's nether regions do.

Perhaps it is that the phallus presents a threat - an image that causes alarm bells to go off in the minds of those who were either victim to its darker deeds, or those whose genetics echo something of its controversial history. Another theory may explore the link a woman's body has to the mother, the nurturer of life. However one looks at it, the female body is universally more palatable, as we all come from it. The male, despite his role in the creation of life, is often placed on the periphery for many reasons mentioned in an earlier post.

In the end, however, I feel as though the reaction to the Leopold Museum exhibition illustrates just how bound we are to our societal views on male versus female nudity. Male nudity is still taboo, even in Europe. What should also be considered is that many of the 1, 000 visitors a day consider the exhibition an eye-opener, or at the very least interesting. There is no lack of male nudity in art, but perhaps it has always been hidden behind some form of narrative such as myths, legends, abstractions and such.

Any opinion on the topic of nudity is bound to attract a counter argument, but something stayed with me as I rummaged through my possible opinions on the matter. To become naked is still to most a vulnerable act. None of us, not even porn stars, have absolutely no issue with disrobing, or else we would see a lot more naked people in public. The fact that most of us cover up before leaving the house is testament to the fact that we consider taking our clothes off a serious matter. I am therefore inclined to believe that to those who find an exhibition of male nudity distasteful, it needs to be considered that men leave themselves quite exposed too. A naked man is all that that man can be, at least on the surface. He opens himself up to scrutiny and risks considerable embarrassment. Is a man more vulnerable than a woman? No. But a man is also only human and he is never revealed to be more human than when he is on display.

This is not a case for male nudity, but rather a case for open-mindedness. Perhaps some of the promulgations in this post may serve to set the minds of those who look at the Leopold Museum's exhibition as obscene at ease. It was probably the museum's intention to spark up a fuss and it worked. But more than that, art is meant to take us places we have not yet been. The job of any good artist is to offer us a point of view that we may not have considered before. It is so necessary to go beyond what we are comfortable with. An artist may not convince us otherwise, but at least we will have listened. There is so much to know and much more to know beyond the world of facts. People's inner worlds are infinite. We are each unique yet we feel such a rush when we realise what we have in common. Except when pain and hurt is involved, there really is no finite distinction between right and wrong and it is on that blurry line that life becomes just that little bit more exciting.

Hanfred Rauch

From Whence No Lines Are Seen To Be Drawn

Scarcely, when viewed from above, are the borders that separate countries visible to us. A strange sensation comes over one in light of this when considering some of the most conflict-ridden borders to be created by man, such as the U.S.-Mexican border, the Russian-Georgian border and the line that separates the Koreas. Even between countries that boast the strongest of ties, such as Canada and America, border divides are a constant source of conflict. Since the fairly recent discovery of precious minerals in the northernmost regions of North America, North Americans have been fighting over the exact whereabouts of the seemingly cut-and-dry line between Alaska and the Yukon.

In terms of cultural identity, however, whether national or individual, it would seem that despite military force or the lines that separate us from one another, the world is essentially up for grabs. These days, especially, people are finding solace in places previously ill-explored, to them at least. A few years ago, some of the most promising young Italian architects were flocking to Shanghai, because the recession had caused the major firms to discriminate against the youth. Many young South Africans, regardless of their race and who did not find themselves on the receiving end of the culturally discriminating black economic empowerment (BEE) system, flocked to Europe and the far east. Young Americans woke up to the reality that they were not living in their parents' America and began to explore the world anew. For the wanderers, permanence of location began to be reconsidered.

It used to be that only the developed world implemented complex and convoluted immigration strategies as a means of keeping the worst of the developing world out, unless of course an orchard was in need of another fifty apple pickers. But things have changed. People from decidedly developed nations are hungry to get into countries without such amenities as gender equality, racial diversity, or familiar food. Their migration might, in many cases, be temporary, but the fact remains that cultural identity is on the move, constantly being redistributed, whether we like it or not. And if history had shown us anything it is that we are powerless to stop it. The world has never known an era wherein change was in suspension.

Invasions bring with them inevitable change - the kind of change that happens suddenly. But another form of cultural infiltration has occurred over the ages, one to which no land is immune. For every skill essentially lacking in one nation, there are countless others who are able and willing to fill the gap. It is a miracle that Britons have retained something of their Britishness, the French something of their Frenchness and the Dutch, well, their lovable obscurity. As far as the ancient cultures go, even Asia, despite its uncanny ability to retain its idiosyncrasies throughout an ancient history of trade, has repackaged the Occident in precisely the manner it wishes to digest it.

The New World perhaps finds itself in an awkward position as far as identity is concerned, since its identity is, to some degree, shaped by its ancestor and therefore, in these times of cultural flux, the New World may very well come to blend its national identity with the character of its immigrants sooner than the Old. America, for instance, came about in exactly this manner. What America is today is the product of initial invasion, followed by a handful of centuries of quiet infiltration. The Antipodes and Canada perhaps share closer roots to Britain than America does today, but they too are coming to embrace the cultures of less immediate influences, particularly that of their closest neighbours and the cultures dwelling along their general time zones. America, perhaps the least accepting of the current climate of change, seems to want something of its past back instead of accepting what it has become and moving forward. Europe suffers a similar disposition, but then Europe is nothing if not settled in its ways.

A few years ago in Paris on New Year's Eve, I realised just how much Europe was haunted by its colonial past. At around midnight, 2007 was ushered in on the Champs Elysees by a riot that had erupted between a group of Algerians and a group of native Frenchmen. Champagne bottles sailed through the air and the least Franco-Algerian of us realised that we had found ourselves in the midst of an event that did not concern us. As a friend almost lost a limb on the way back to the hotel, it was difficult to enjoy the splendour of a Paris in celebration. In my mind, at least from a cultural perspective, Paris was burning.

It is so easy to point out the world's shortcomings from a position devoid of responsibility. I am not a politician. My contribution to the matter is infinitesimally small. But to write about something so socio-politically charged without offering a suggestion for its betterment is cowardly. The hippy in me suggests going with the flow. Whatever else in me wishes to raise an opinion is awkwardly silent. I therefore think that we are destined to accept the influences on our cultures and go out of our way to tolerate them. That is something we cannot really change. To tell a child not to look behind a door breeds quite obvious results and once we have peeked behind that door, we are forever changed. Should we avoid opening doors? I think it would be a terrible mistake. Enlightenment, curiosity and a healthy desire for knowing is what ultimately shapes us. What we are becoming is of little concern compared with what binds us. The universal, the things we all do irrespective of our differences, is the only thing that really matters in the end.

Hanfred Rauch

Immortal Thinking

There are some of us, I am lead to believe, who are quite content with the idea of dying some day. For the religiously devout amongst us, dying may be an easier pill to swallow, but I shall venture a guess that few of us escape a mild spell of anguish at this thought, or this kind of thinking. For most people, devout or not, death is a frightening concept. There has been no tangible evidence that life goes on after death and so, most of us either hope very hard, or work very hard at not being forgotten. Since time immemorial, buried in the deep abyss of not knowing, one thing thing we have always been certain of is that when we do not exist in the minds of others, we do not exist. Perhaps for this reason, we have evolved into a people driven by panic and thriving on fast and easy solutions. The faster we make the earth spin, it might be thought, the larger our portfolio of achievements will become in the short time we have.

I recently happened upon an article on the BBC News mobile app that served to demystify the kind of superpower China is becoming. To most any westerner, the word, superpower, has become rather a dirty word, alluding to fascism and conjuring the adage, absolute power corrupts absolutely. However, what the article aimed to do was to offer an alternative view. The journalist stated that China has a negligible history of colonisation. They did not seek to conquer the four corners of the earth in quite the same way as the old powers, England, France, The Netherlands, Spain and Portugal did. They were quite content with their way of life and never doubted that they were the best. To the Chinese, China has always been something to strive towards. And apparently, most of Asia did exactly that. Strong trade relations were set up and, for the most part, they still exist today. To the Chinese, or so the theory goes, there is very little need for urgency in trying to convince others of their power. Their power is quite evident. Bypassing the moral minefield that is Chinese human rights issues entirely, it is this kind of thinking that I find so interesting.

Our current superpower, the mighty United States of America, perhaps lacks the benefit of old age that their European counterparts and indeed China do. This, in my mind, explains their insatiable thirst. I am constantly struck by the overall American reaction to the ongoing recession, which seems to be a reaction to some phantom accusation. Most any opinion on the matter sounds something like this: "We must prevail". Sure, America has been the self-proclaimed leader of the free world for some time. Their currency conveniently provides a middle ground for international trade, keeping them in perpetual business. Their culture is the most well-disseminated in the world, having been assimilated by even the most remote of cultures, such as Bhutan. As negative as these words may seem, I am not condemning America. If the world had no taste for their culture, films, or food, MacDonald's would not have dominated every mention-able street corner. We chose it. The trouble is the way that the head attached to the arm, attached to the hand that feeds us, thinks. It will not become like the rest of us. It must rule the world for it to work. Again, I try, always, to consider the individual. Being a member of the "international class", the modern wanderers that exist, however temporarily, without permanence of a home or culture, I am faced daily with individuals, most often Americans, that understand the world, and who do not travel for the purpose of converting others to the American way of thinking.

We think therefore we are. Should we, however, think more specifically, we could discern two broad ways of thinking. Mattering today and mattering tomorrow. If today is our concern, the solution is simple, for it will  present itself today. But if we are to matter tomorrow, our concerns need to venture beyond what we are capable of today. Perhaps a process of incubation is required, before we leap to actions that will matter when we are gone.

The world must change. But then, this has always been true. Whether we should all think the same way is another matter, one that I am not convinced we are ready for. We have only just discovered each other and much co-existence is still required. If Americana has shaped, to whatever degree, our individual thoughts, then let it be. Where careful thought is required is in the haste of our decisions. I am more than convinced that not every Chinese national thinks in the manner described by the BBC journalist, who accounted for a more holistic mindset, in much the same way as I believe not all Americans think mortally. But speaking only  idealistically, I do not believe that anyone particularly needs to think only in terms of domination. That "you're-either-with-us-or-against-us" mentality has proved only to breed intolerance, for which there is now, more than ever, the least need. Immortal thinking, or mattering tomorrow in a manner I, for one, hope is one of benevolence, is what is required of us if we are to make a success of a world in constant flux of power.

 Hanfred Rauch