HI

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Friday, September 20, 2024

AN ECO-LOGICAL REVIEW OF MIKE JOY (2024) THE FIGHT FOR FRESHWATER. BWB, Wellington, NZ.

 AN ECO-LOGICAL REVIEW OF MIKE JOY (2024) THE FIGHT FOR FRESHWATER. BWB, Wellington, NZ.

 

This is a heartwarming story of good nature getting the better of bad nurture. Mike Joy having grown up in what he calls a ‘conservative’ environment but what to me sounds more like the archetypal New Zealand red-neck scenario of right-wing politics (National Party), petrol heads, boys being catholic boys, men in the garage fixing cars and drinking beer, women in the kitchen baking pies, ignorant farmers abusing animals, corrupt politicians at federal and local levels, corporate greed … and so the list goes on and on. Not that, generally, scientists are any better. What Joy calls ‘agency capture’ is the well-known (in some quarters at least) story of scientists working for the man rather for knowledge dissemination, the proverbial ‘he who pays the piper calls the tune’. So, the amazing story is not that a working-class boy has many a working-class adventure to slowly but surely turn into an acclaimed academic, but amazingly NOT turning into an academic asshole (excuse my aristocratic language) that populates academia in New Zealand as much as they do across the globe – at least based on my own experiences in academia in New Zealand and a few other places. Indeed, many an academic that arose from the so-called working classes often becomes more ‘conservative’ than his upper-class peers, just to pay the price of admission to the club. As such one would have expected that Mike Joy follows this well-traversed path to academic glory. That he gets to grips with his real human nature and turns into what conservatives generally call a ‘dissident’, makes his memoir a real page turner, a delight to read. Sadly, he is of course preaching to the converted, as evidenced by a radically divided world where the 99% are subjugated by the 1% - mostly willingly it seems (or at least the slaves being manipulated to vote for their masters). Mike Joy addresses this tragic state of affairs, as we are staring into a cataclysm of environmental degradation on the altar of economic growth mantras, promoting his ‘degrowth’ campaign. Of course, it makes sense, but he knows that making sense in this world today (2024) is mostly a ‘complete and utter waste of time’, the only hope being that he must continue his ‘fight for freshwater’. This conclusion is my only misgiving: this is not a ‘fight’ because you are reverting to the ‘conservative’ nurture scenario where fighting is at the heart of being a tough guy, as opposed to all the sissies who refuse to fight. Passive resistance is the way to go, or to use the only good catholic parable of Jesus turning his cheek to be hit again by the bully. Human nature, as nature in general is all about peaceful co-existence, hence the simple solution is to refuse the alternative (e.g. the weird zoologist Lorenz proclaiming that nature, including human, is innately about the survival of the fittest, the one who is most aggressive). To some degree Mike Joy and his partner are very good examples of such a degrowth lifestyle like fixing up old houses to live in, sailing in an old kauri boat, being vegetarian (!), walking where possible, and communicating the truth against all the odds. Mike Joy’s trajectory to this stage in his life at 64 is as remarkable as ultimately contradictory: like a Chomsky (my other working-class hero) style dissident, his brilliance as a scientist propels him into the narrow bracket of permitted conveyers of doom and gloom, in the full knowledge that his impact will be negligible in the face of an overwhelming majority of genocidal bitches (to use the words of a Leonard Cohen song) who decide who is to live and who is to die. Others will be sidelined, as Mike Joy finds out from Vice-Chancellor Steve Maharey who told him the story of Federated Farmers demanding Mike’s sacking. Maharey to his credit stood up for Mike. I can attest to the less lucky ones, like me being associated with the Chomsky side, who as a linguist found the doors always closed when applying for university jobs in NZ – despite my PhD from Auckland University and boasting a considerable number of peer-reviewed articles (and a book about Noam Chomsky), the type that Mike Joy almost religiously cites as the key to academic stardom. Still, after moving to Victoria University and eventually being given redundant notice there as part of the slash and burn, Mike Joy has to rely on the charity of the capitalist Morgan Foundation to keep his research going at the university, and no doubt having to reference the Morgan Foundation in all his subsequent publications. This is testament in itself of the many contradictions his life – and all our lives – is subjected to. His moving account of his father’s death is a classic example: having nearly come to blows with him during the Springbok tour – his father being an ardent supporter – arguing the complete and utter falsehood of it (I was then in the Patu Patu contingent in the Auckland protests), Mike nevertheless acknowledges him as an invaluable source of practical skills transmission that shaped his life to this very day. The sad irony being that while his father had argued for the false separation of sport and politics, Mike now acknowledges that his relationship with his father continued to be positive as long as they did not mix applied engineering with politics. Sad to learn too that when his father was on his death bed in Blenheim hospital, he was the victim of a deteriorating public health system in New Zealand, what with overworked, underpaid and under-skilled nurses making his father’s last hours as uncomfortable as possible. In terms of not mixing engineering (as a symbol of the natural sciences) with politics as a false premise, Mike Joy correctly dismisses the many bizarre technical and commercial attempts to mitigate or even reverse the disastrous consequences of the climate crisis, from carbon capture contraptions to the utterly ridiculous carbon trading scheme. Greenwashing as the latest commercial opportunity to get rich quick may well be the death knell we all know is knocking on the door. The term ‘ecocide’ was used as early as 2002 by my friend Franz Broswimmer in his book entitled ‘Ecocide: A Short History Of The Mass Extinction Of Species’ and he was tragically removed from the academic world in Hawaii (East-West Centre) by an SUV running him over and crippling him for life, getting only minimal care and support from the US health system because he was not a US citizen. As such Mike Joy is not a single voice in the wilderness but of a band of global voices that can be heard every day, although it is not always clear what exactly their intentions are. Take the seemingly correct call by the governments of Vanuatu, Fiji and Samoa for the ICC to make ecocide a criminal offence. Having worked and lived in Vanuatu (and having visited Fiji and Samoa) and having gained some knowledge of the political situation of these island nations, I am baffled by the call, not only because it seems perfectly insane that one should have to call out ecocide as a crime when it so obviously is. I am baffled because the governments in question use a post-colonial ruse to extract millions and billions in compensation for what they say was caused by the neighbouring metropolitan/colonialist countries like New Zealand and Australia, which in itself is true enough, but then again the successive post-colonial governments of these island nations have not followed environmentally friendly policies either, like selling off mining and forestry licences to the highest bidders who in turn ravaged the delicate island environments and left it in tatters. The much-vaunted income for the governments was mainly squandered on more environmentally disastrous infrastructural projects and palaces for the movers and shakers who continuously battle each other for the baubles of office (cf. Fiji’s military and political coups). It seems that the colonial powers managed to instil a mindset that guaranteed the elite of the indigenous populations a place in the sun, while all around them the living standards of their subjects went down the drain. This brings me to the painful discussion of that what Mike Joy sees as part of the solution, namely in the positive environmental knowledge and practices of indigenous cultures, i.e. that of Māori in Aotearoa. Obviously it is true that Māori culture harbours knowledge and practices that are environmentally friendly but so does any culture worth its salt. As any good anthropologist will tell you, culture is highly contestable and is fought over like any other organisational system. As such we know that contemporary Māori culture also harbours all manner of ecocidal members of the National Party, ACT and NZ First, whom Mike Joy accuses of dismantling Te Mana o te Wai, as soon as they came to power. When accessing the website of Degrowth Aotearoa (DANZ) there is a lengthy homepage statement entitled ‘Solidarity with Māori’ which is fine in principle, as it seeks to counteract the ACT party’s attempt to redefine and diminish Te Tiriti o Waitangi, but it misses the crucial point that Māori culture and society is not a monolithic entity that can be relied upon as a solution to ecocide and genocide that is currently wrought on this earth. As such, I am hesitant to join Degrowth Aotearoa, as it goes against my anarchic instincts to join any organisation that has more than five members, as any more will lead to hierarchical, representational structures that have plagued our world since year dot. I know that many left-wing activists call for ‘getting organised’ to battle the foes on the other side (who are often much better organised), but as I mentioned before this type of martial discourse is self-defeating (sic) since the ‘enemy’ is the one spoiling for a fight as their insane raison d'être. Since Mike Joy, on his own admission, likes nothing better than to educate people (especially the young ones) then let this be his mantra, not to fight for freshwater but to educate people for the absolute need for freshwater – something he does so very well in his book. 

 

Broswimmer, Franz (2002) Ecocide: A Short History Of The Mass Extinction Of Species. Pluto Press.

 

https://www.degrowth.nz

 

https://www.theguardian.com/law/article/2024/sep/09/pacific-islands-ecocide-crime-icc-proposal

 

 

 

 

 

Monday, September 2, 2024

SEBALD UND REIMANN IN DER ÜBERSETZUNG GEFUNDEN – eine Kurzgeschichte mit Bildern und Links

  

 

SEBALD UND REIMANN IN DER ÜBERSETZUNG GEFUNDEN – eine Kurzgeschichte mit Bildern und Links

 

Ja, sag doch mal, wie bist du auf die Reimann gestoßen? fragte meine Schwägerin, Emily, auf Englisch, um meine Frau, Jane, höflicherweise im Gespräch einzubeziehen, weil sie ja Englischsprachlich ist, obwohl sie auch schon ein bisschen Deutsch sprechen kann. Jane ist ja in Nairobi in Kenia geboren, und wenn ich das als Information auch an liberale Leute weitergebe, die die Jane noch nicht getroffen haben, dann bekomme ich oft betroffene Blicke, die eine leicht rassistische Attitüde hervorrufen – ist sie vielleicht schwarzer Hautfarbe? Ja, antwortete ich Emily, das war reiner Zufall, oder vielleicht auch nicht, weil Jane dieses Buch gefunden hat. Bei ihrer on-line Suche nach Büchern bei der Auckland Library gibt sie immer German als Suchwort ein um deutsche Bücher für mich zu finden. Also gemeint sind deutsche Autoren Bücher auf englischer Übersetzung. Und so hat sie Reimanns ‚Siblings‘ (Geschwister) gefunden und für mich bestellt. Also, das habe ich nun alles auf deutsch gesagt, weil meine Frau außer Hörweite war, und Emily sehr gut Deutsch versteht, obwohl sie Amerikanerin aus Cincinnati ist. Sie lebt mit meinem Bruder, Bernhard, schon seit ewig vielen Jahren in Ingolstadt, hat als junge Frau in München Medizin studiert und so meinen Bruder getroffen und geheiratet, der ebenfalls Medizin studierte. Emilys Vorfahren waren deutsche Auswanderer und somit war ihr Interesse an alles Deutsche erwacht, hat Deutsch an ihrer High-School in Cincinnati gelernt und dann auch am College Deutsch genommen (Biologie als Hauptfach) und hat sich dann als Austauschstudent an der LMU beworben und wurde so fürs Medizinstudium an der LMU angenommen. Der Rest ist Geschichte, wie das englische Sprichwort auf Deutsch heißt. Ich hatte Emily gebeten mir die deutsche Fassung von Brigitte Reimanns ‚Geschwister‘ aus Deutschland mitzubringen. Sie waren nun auf Besuch zu uns in Auckland, Neuseeland wo meine Familie und ich nun schon lange wohnen. Zum ersten Mal war ich in Neuseeland als Tourist, so um 1971, und bin dann später im Jahr 1973 echt nach Neuseeland ausgewandert. Das war alles ganz politisch einmalig, denn für meinen Auswanderungsantrag hatte ich damals keinerlei Qualifikationen – ich hatte mein Psychologiestudium an der LMU in 1970 abgebrochen, um auf Weltreise zu gehen – aber glücklicherweise war damals gerade die neuseeländische Labour Party an der Regierung, unter Norma Kirk, der eine Flottille nach Mururoa in Tahiti geschickt hatte, um gegen die französischen Atomtests zu protestieren. Das Schiff der Greenpeace war auch dabei das später im Jahr 1985 von den Franzosen unter Mitterand in Auckland in die Luft gesprengt wurde und zum Tod vom Fotografen Fernando Pereira führte. 

 


 


 

 

Zu dieser Zeit war ich der APO in München aktiv und protestierte mit einer Gruppe auch gegen die französischen Atomtests. Wir reisten sogar nach Bonn, um dort vor der französischen Botschaft einen Sarg abzustellen. Wir hatten Kontakt mit einigen neuseeländischen Aktivisten, und einer von ihnen, der Friedensaktivist Barry Mitcalfe (1930 – 1986) hatte mir zum Auswanderungsantrag einen Unterstützung Brief geschrieben. Ich hatte auch einen Arbeitsangebot via meinem neuseeländischen Freund John – den ich schon in Bali kennengelernt hatte – um in einem Motorrad Geschäft zu arbeiten. Ich hatte natürlich null Ahnung von den damals in Neuseeland beliebten englischen Motorrädern (John hatte eine Triumph Bonneville) aber das hat niemand von der neuseeländischen Einwanderer Behörde interessiert. Nur gut, dass ich gegen die französischen Atomtests war! 

 

Emily und Bernhard wussten diese Geschichte natürlich, aber jetzt im Jahr 2024 gab es auch andere Geschichten, weil wir uns seit mindestens fünf Jahren nicht mehr gesehen hatten. Das Gedächtnis an die Vergangenheit kommt aber immer wieder vorbei: da mein jüngerer Bruder und ich auf dem Gymnasium Ho’gau (Hohenschwangau) Schüler waren (ich als Heim Schüler, Bernhard als Tages Schüler) ging es eben auch wieder einmal um die ehemaligen Mitschüler, und was die alles so machen – wenn sie überhaupt noch leben. Einer meiner besten Schulfreunde, Paul, kam aus Immenstadt (ich kam aus Rottenbuch, Bernhard aus Steingaden – das kann ich wegen Wortzahl Einschränkung nun nicht erklären). Ich hatte schon lange den Kontakt mit ihm verloren. Paul und seine Freundin Maria hatten uns damals noch in West-Berlin besucht, als dort unsere Tochter Tania geboren wurde – und sie hatten uns eine sehr schon gestrickte Babydecke geschenkt, und diese Decke haben wir immer noch, und zeigten sie Bernhard und Emily, die nicht aus dem Staunen herauskamen. Bernhard sagte, dass er den Paul vor ein paar Jahren mal angerufen hatte – Paul war als berühmter Radiologe schon pensioniert – und er nach mir gefragt hatte. Daraus wurde nichts, aber als Bernhard und Emily wieder zurück nach Ingolstadt kamen, da rief Bernhard den Paul nochmals an und nun Erfolg: Emails worden ausgetauscht und weil Bernhard ihm dann ein Paar Fotos von Neuseeland geschickt hatte und Paul gefragt hatte ob er ein Paar Bilder von ihm zuschicken könne, antwortete Paul mit einem Link zu einer Bayrischen Literatur Organisation, die ein Essay von ihm veröffentlicht hatten, mit einem Autoren Bild von ihm. Das hat mir Bernhard dann weitergeleitet.

 

Aber zurück zuerst zu Brigitte Reimann: ich muss zugeben, dass ich kaum DDR Literatur gelesen habe, außerhalb von Bertolt Brecht, der vielleicht gar nicht dazu zählt obwohl er doch noch in die DDR zurückgekehrt war. Meine Abiturklasse (1969) hatte einen außergewöhnlichen Deutschlehrer – inmitten der vielen ehemaligen Nazis – der eine Abiturreise nach Ost-Berlin organisierte um dort das Brecht Stück ‚Der aufhaltsame Aufstieg des Arturo Ui‘ anzusehen. Das hat mich und sicherlich auch Paul sehr geprägt. Zur Abiturabgangsfeier verteilten wir in der Nacht zuvor selbstgemachte Plakate die nach Orwells ‚Animal Farm‘ – auch der English Lehrer war eine Ausnahme uns diese Lektüre anzuvertrauen – den berühmten Schweine-Slogan ,all animals are equal but some are more equal‘ umdrehten auf ‚all pigs are equal but some pigs are more equal‘ mit der Übersetzung drunter als ‚alle Lehrer sind gleich aber einige sind gleicher‘ mit Karikaturen die die Lehrer als Schweine zeigten. Der Direktor und seine Lehrer – außer dem Englisch und Deutsch Lehrer – drehten durch, wollten die Polizei rufen, und die angereisten Eltern waren sich uneinig wer der verrücktere war: das Direktorat oder die Schülerschaft? Die Abiturfeier wurde abgesagt und die Eltern bekamen die Abitur Zertifikate ihrer Sprösslinge draußen vor der Tür. Ich habe immer noch die Kopie des ‚Animal Farm‘. Auch eine englischsprachliche Biografie über Berthold Brecht von Frederic Ewen ist in meiner Privatbibliothek gut platziert. Und noch ein anderes prägendes Beispiel aus unserer Schulzeit: unser Geschichtslehrer wollte unbedingt nichts vom Holocaust wissen, so haben wir an das Simon-Wiesenthal-Center geschrieben und um Lehrmaterial gebeten. Sie schickten uns ein Packet, auch mit grausamen Bildern aus den Konzentrationslagern, die wir dann unserem Geschichtslehrer zeigte. Der lief sofort zum Direktor, der uns dann drohte, uns aus der Schule zu werfen. Vielleicht waren beide damals in Sonthofen und haben den Himmler angehimmelt. Zumindest war unser Direktor ein Freund von Heinrich Harrer – der erst 1996 als Obernazi entlarvt wurde – der immer bei uns in der Schule große Reden gehalten hat, vom Bergsteigen natürlich. 

 

Aufgewachsen in Bayern in Familien von Sudetendeutschen habe ich immer die Propaganda von den bösen Russen – im Jahr 2024 ist das vielleicht eine andere Frage: spinnt der Putin noch mehr wie der Biden? -  und noch böseren Kommunisten in der DDR gehört und alles gut geglaubt, bis Orwell und Brecht durch meinen Kopf gelaufen sind – dank einen paar guten Lehrern, und auch dank dem Zeitgeist der 60er Jahre die ich erst in England als Austauschschüler in1968 erlebt habe: die englischen Schüler meines Alters spielten dort die Schallplatten von den Rolling Stones und lasen über Zen Buddhismus. Sofort lies ich mein Haar lang wachsen und später als Student in Münchens Schwabing gings in die Kommunen, Drogen und Krautrock (ein paar Schüler von Bernhards Klasse waren in der berühmten Amon Düül Band) und Sex. Kein Wunder ich wanderte die nächsten zehn Jahre als ‚vergammelter‘ Hippy um die Welt. Kurz nach der Wiedervereinigung war ich auch mal in Potsdam, eingeladen vom Linguistik Institut der Potsdam Universität, weil ich in der Zwischenzeit in Neuseeland ein Experte für Polynesische Sprachen geworden war, und sie wollten ein linguistisches Projekt starten, um die verschiedensten Sprachen der Welt zu vergleichen. Potsdam war noch das echte Ost-Berlin: Schusslöcher in den Häuserwänden, noch vom Zweiten Weltkrieg, klapprige Trabis, traurige Überbleibsel von sozialistischen Parolen und der schlimme Verdacht von den einheimischen Akademikern, dass der kapitalistische Westen nun alles besser weiß – wenn auch die je beste neue deutsche Grammatik von den DDRlern geschrieben wurde (jetzt auch noch in meinem Bücherregal). Man kann also gut sehen, wo meine Sympathien liegen, und damit bin ich auch mit Bernhard und Paul einig. Reimanns ‚Siblings‘ war nun eine Lektüre die mich ziemlich erschüttert hat: die Protagonistin glaubt also ehrlich an den Sozialismus in der DDR und bringt ihren jüngeren Bruder davon ab in den Westen zu gehen – das ist noch bevor der Mauerbau als man ohne weiteres zwischen Ost- und West-Berlin reisen konnte (also wir in den 70ger Jahren in West-Berlin waren, wo unsere Tochter geboren wurde, wohnten wir in Kreuzberg, nicht weit von der Mauer – und noch einen Witz bitte: um das Kindergeld zu bekommen mussten wir heiraten und das taten wir im Bezirk Wedding, hahaha, ‚wedding‘ ist Englisch für Heiratsfeier, und da gibt’s auch noch eine andere lustige ‚wedding‘ Geschichte die Bernhard und Paul gut kennen, die aber hier nicht Platz hat wegen der literarischen Beschränkung). Also wie gesagt, der (ziemlich autobiografische) Roman von Brigitte Reimann, auf Englisch, hat mich sehr beindruckt.

 

Als Linguist kam ich dann auf die Idee dass ich die originale deutsche Fassung lesen sollte um eine These zu beweisen die mich als theoretischer Linguist und praktischer Lexikograph schon lange beschäftigt, nämlich dass im Prinzip alle Sprachen gleich sind, beruhend auf der ‚Universal Grammar (universale Grammatik)‘ wie entwickelt von meinem Freund Noam Chomsky - ich habe ja immerhin ein Buch, auf Englisch, über ihn geschrieben – und dass daher die Übersetzung von einer Sprache in die andere durchaus möglich ist, ohne dass dabei etwas verloren sein kann, so wie mythologisiert in dem dummen Film ‚Lost in Translation‘ und mehr ernst behauptet von Linguisten – die alle gegen den Chomsky sind – dass die Sprachen der Welt so verschieden sein können, dass Übersetzung kaum möglich ist. Angeblich beeinflussen die so verschiedenen Sprachen auch das Denken, und wenn man auch eine Fremdsprache lernt und studiert, so kann man sich nie in das einheimische Denken einfühlen, das auch von unzugänglicher Kultur geprägt ist. So ein Schmarrn, wie die Bayern so schön sagen, regt mich schon immer auf, und so habe ich auch Emily gefragt ob sie mir die deutsche Fassung von Reimanns ‚Siblings‘ aus Ingolstadt mitbringen kann, und das hat sie auch getan. Das habe ich dann fleißig gelesen und festgestellt, ohne Zweifel, dass die Übersetzerin, Lucy Jones, eine sehr gute Arbeit geleistet hat, so gut in der Tat, dass ich sogar erwägt habe, dass die englische Fassung vielleicht sogar besser ist als die deutsche. Übersetzer sind natürlich unsichtbar, und werden nur mit einem Wort erwähnt:


 

 

 

Solche Sachen interessieren nur Leute wie mich. Also habe ich sofort nachgeforscht, wer diese Lucy Jones eigentlich ist. Heutzutage beginnt alles mit Google und habe gleich herausgefunden, dass Lucy Jones eine ziemlich weite on-line Präsenz hat. Also ganz berühmt unter den Übersetzern, zu mindestens die heutzutage in Berlin wohnen. Da haben die englischen Auswanderer sogar ihre eigene Webseite, wo auch Lucy Jones erscheint und über ihre Übersetzung berichtet:

 

https://www.exberliner.com/books/lucy-jones-brigitte-reimann-siblings-translation-ddr-interview-penguin/

 

Und dann hat sie auch ihre eigene Webseite -zusammen mit einer deutschen Übersetzerin- wo wir noch genaueres über ihren Lebenslauf erfahren können (lieber Leser haben sie bitte Geduld, denn das wird alles gleich zur Pointe führen):

 

I grew up in Hertfordshire, England, have a BA in German and Film from the University of East Anglia where W.G. Sebald was my tutor and completed an MA in Applied Linguistics at the University of Surrey in 2008. In the 1990s, I worked as a freelance photographer (people, fashion) in Barcelona and Hamburg before continuing to work in this area and the club scene in Berlin from 1998 onwards.

 

https://transfiction.eu/lucy-jones/education/

 

Auch wenn Sie kein Englisch kennen, so können Sie doch einen besonderen Namen erkennen, nämlich ‚W.G. Sebald‘, ein Name, der mir ehrlicherweise nicht viel sagte, nur dass ich im Guardian schon mal öfters etwas über ihn gelesen hatte, so als berühmter deutschsprachiger Autor, der viele Jahre an der East Anglia Universität Deutsch gelehrt hatte, bis er bei einem Autounfall gestorben war. Also habe ich das kaum registriert, dass Lucy Jones unter W.G. Sebald Deutsch studiert hatte, abgesehen davon, dass man daher annehmen kann, dass ihr Deutsch Kenntnis sehr gut sein muss.

 

Also habe ich mein Essay so konzipiert, dass ich die deutschen und englischen Texte genau vergleichen werde, um zu beweisen, dass Übersetzung prinzipiell möglich ist – im Gegensatz zu den verrückten Linguisten, die das ablehnen, und lächerlich machen – und sogar besser sein kann als das Original. Ich möchte damit niemanden im Detail langweilen, aber Sie können ja bei mir nachfragen, wenn Sie eine Kopie davon lesen wollen, insbesonders wenn Sie zufällig auch ein/e Übersetzer/in sind und noch dazu wissen das W.G. Sebald auch Übersetzung gelehrt hat und dazu noch ein britisches Übersetzungsinstitut (British Centre for Literary Translation) gegründet hat:

 

https://nationalcentreforwriting.org.uk/british-centre-for-literary-translation/#:~:text=The%20British%20Centre%20for%20Literary,the%20support%20of%20literary%20translation.

 

Und nun zum Zufall aller Zufälle (manche nennen es Schicksal, das in den Sternen geschrieben ist): wie schon oben angedeutet, nachdem mein Bruder mit Paul wieder Kontakt aufgenommen hatte und um Bildaustausch fragte, und dann diesen Link bekam, den ich dann aufmachte, und ich konnte es eigentlich kaum glauben:

 

https://www.literaturportal-bayern.de/journal?task=lpbblog.default&id=2882

 

ein Essay mit dem Titel:

 

Il ritorno della memoria, oder: Die Reise zu W. G. Sebalds Grab

 

Hab ich natürlich gleich gelesen – sehr gut geschrieben und sehr interessant! Und da geht mir gleich das Licht auf: W.G. Sebald in Wertach geboren, ganz in der Nähe von Immenstadt, wo Paul herkommt, Sonthofen, die muffige Kleinstadt, die Burg, die Berge der Umgebung, auch nicht so weit entfernt von unserem Ho’gauer Gymnasium, Sebald der anti-Faschist, Sebald der zweisprachige Auswanderer. Hab auch gleich den Paul per email gefragt wie er auf den Sebald gekommen ist und er sagte dass er schon früher auf ihn gestoßen ist und als er vom Sebald Weg erfahren hat – Paul und seine Frau sind große Wanderer – und auch von der Sebald Gesellschaft und deren Literatur Preisausschreiben, da hat er sich hingesetzt und hat dieses Essay geschrieben. Paul fängt unter anderem mit einer lustigen Stink Anekdote an:

 

Einen solchen Edel- und Stinkkäse hatte auch W. G. Sebald eines Tages in seinem Briefkasten vorgefunden, nachdem der englische Postbote beim Einwurf der Sendung gut hörbar den Fluch „bloody foreigners“ ausgestoßen hatte. Sein Schulfreund J. K. hatte ihm den Käs auf seinen Wusch geschickt und Sebald war aufs angenehmste von der heimatlichen Duftnote überrascht worden.

 

Allgäuer Stinkkäse ist doch weltberühmt in Oberbayern, und das ist schon wieder ein galaktischer Zufall: mein Bruder ist doch auf dem Fabrikgelände der Firma Hindelang (der Sebald Weg fängt komischerweise in Bad Hindelang an) in Steingaden aufgewachsen -warum und wieso lasse ich jetzt aus – so dass sogar meine Großmutter und ich, die in Rottenbuch wohnten -warum und wieso lasse ich jetzt aus –, immer gut mit Käse versorgt waren. ‚So'n Käs' hätte sicherlich der Sebald auf gut Bayrisch gesagt. 

 

Hierzu muss ich noch beifügen, dass ich mein Hochdeutsch schon ein bisschen vergessen habe und ich mich in meinem hohen Alter viel besser an das Sudetendeutsch-Bayrische erinnern kann – aufgewachsen bin ich ja bei dem sudetendeutschen Dialekt meiner Großmutter – das bei uns im Dorf damals bei den echten Sudetendeutschen noch echt gesprochen wurde. Es gibt ja sogar Versuche auf Bayrisch zu schreiben – Emily hat mir dazu ‚Bavarian into English‘ von Otto Hietsch geschenkt – aber als Linguist muss ich ja sagen dass echter Dialekt nur gesprochen werden kann – so wie sich die Sprachen ja auch allgemein entwickelt haben – und wenn man versucht es niederzuschreiben, so ,erniedrigt‘ man es ja, obgleich heutzutage das geschriebene Hochdeutsch oft viel ,höher‘ eingeschätzt wird. Immerhin gibt es ja eine gewisse Wiederbelebung der gesprochenen Sprache im Internet bei den Podcasts und auch bei dem Millionen von Videoclips, nur dass wie vieles im Internet alles nur Scheisse ist (,excuse my French‘, wie sie auf Englisch so sagen), so wie die vielen Demagogen gern den Hitler nachahmen, der ja immer große Reden gehalten hat, die viele Deutsche hypnotisiert haben – und ein paar anderen das Gruseln gelernt hat. Auf jeden Fall habe ich wegen meiner allgemeinen Schreibfaulheit diese Geschichte erst aufs alte Tonband aufgenommen, auf gut Bayrisch-Sudetendeutsch natürlich, und weil man so eine Tonbandaufnahme nicht ins Preisausschreiben einreichen kann, habe ich Herrn Professor Dr. (habilitiert) Valentin gebeten das alles ein bisschen ins Niederdeutsche (mit Bayrischen Beigefühl) zu übersetzen, so dass es auch die Preußen in Sonthofen lesen können. Der hat mir nur sein Zitat zugeschickt -vom Jenseits - "Mögen hätt ich schon wollen, aber dürfen hab ich mich nicht getraut" so dass ich die Aufgabe an einen anonymen Übersetzer in Wertach gegeben habe, dessen Version Sie nun lesen, und ich entschuldige mich gleich für seine Unfähigkeit, obwohl das seine beste Arbeit seit Jahren ist.    

 

Also (schreibt der Übersetzer) wir haben Bernhard und Emily nicht gebeten uns ,so’n Käs‘ aus Ingolstadt mitzubringen, weil hier in Neuseeland das ganze Land auf Milchwirtschaft steht, und auch einigermaßen guter Käse gemacht wird. Um sie zu überzeugen sind wir nach Puhoi im Norden von Auckland gefahren, wo Böhmische Auswanderer 1863 ein kleines Dorf gegründet hatten, und natürlich den Einheimischen das Käsemachen gelernt hatten. Deutsche Touristen sehen sich gerne das kleine Museum an, und trinken danach Neuseeländisches Bier im Biergarten. Die Geschichten der Böhmischen Auswanderer klingen fast so wie die in Sebalds ,The Emigrants‘ (translated from the German by Michel Hulse), nämlich die von dem Ambros Adelwarth, dem seine Familie während der Weimar Jahre nach Amerika ausgewandert waren. Jemand müsste mal eine umfassende Geschichte deutscher Auswanderer schreiben. Das Klischee ist das von den fleißigen, tüchtigen Leuten, die ein besseres Leben finden wollen als in ihrer alten Heimat, die aber irgendwie ihre Heimat nie verlassen, indem sie einfach eine ‚neue‘ Heimat aufbauen, sogar oft den Namen nach von ihrer Heimat. So ist in der Neuen Welt dann alles ‚New-, wie New Ulm in Minnesota. Die deutschen Auswanderer nach Amerika sind natürlich Legende, gut und schlecht, so wie Emily auch aus ihrer Einwanderer Geschichte genau weiß: Söhne und Töchter von Deutschen Einwanderern werden berühmt, so wie J. Robert Oppenheimer der jetzt in allen Kinos herumgeistert, und ein gewisser Donald Trump dem seine Vorfahren angeblich aus Kallstadt kommen – so wie auch die Heinz Familie, die zur einer der größten Lebensmittel Konzerne der Welt aufstiegen. Kaum zu glauben! Deutsche Auswanderer in Neuseeland haben weniger solche Eindrücke verlassen, weil Neuseeland erst von weniger als 200 Jahren von Einwanderern übernommen wurde, also ohne Einladung von den einheimischen Maori, was dann weiterhin zu Kriegen zwischen den Maori und den Einwanderern gekommen ist. Diese Geschichte des Kolonialismus in der Neuen Welt ist eng verbunden mit der Geschichte der Migration. Mit Bernhard und Emily sind wir mit unserer Tochter, Tania (in Berlin geboren), und ihrem Partner, Tuwharetoa – der Maori ist – und deren zwei Kinder (die sich auch als Maori identifizieren) nach Tokaanu gefahren wo sein anzestraler Marae ist. Als Verwandte sind wir sehr freundlich empfangen worden, weil wir wahrscheinlich ein Beweis dafür sind, dass Maori und eingewanderte Europäer gut miteinander auskommen können, auch wenn man die Geschichte der anderen Einwanderer nicht verleugnen kann, die die Maori abgemetzelt und ihr Land gestohlen haben. Sebalds Ambros Adelwarth kommt dabei nicht auf die Indianer zu sprechen. Vielleicht im tiefen Unterbewusstsein hat ihn das schon gestört, als er als alter Mann sich in ein Asyl einquartieren ließ. Andererseits könnte es eine allgemeine Auswanderer Krankheit geben, wobei das neue Leben im Endeffekt keinen Anker hat, so wie Sebalds Dr Henry Selwyn. Vielleicht hat das auch etwas damit zu tun das dem Glauben vieler indigenen Menschen widerspricht, nämlich dass das anzestrale Land – die Erde – die Gebeine der einheimischen Menschen wieder zurückfordert. Wenn man in fremden Ländern stirbt, wird man nie zur Ruhe kommen. Was aber wenn man von seinem Land vertrieben wird, so wie meine Großmutter, die nach dem 2. Weltkrieg aus Jauernig in der damaligen Tschechoslowakei vertrieben wurde, obwohl sie sicher keine Schuld daran hatte, dass der ‚sudetendeutsche‘ Faschist Henlein mit Hitler die Annexion vorbereitete? Als sie in Oberbayern ankam und auf einen kleinen Bauernhof in Rottenbuch abgeschoben wurde, da brach eine Welt zusammen. Trotzdem, auf Grund weiterer tragischen persönlichen Geschehen, hat sie mich erzogen und als sie im Jahr 1967 starb, ist meine Welt zusammengebrochen, so dass ich zum ewigen Weltenwandrer wurde, ohne Wurzel – aber vielleicht sinken meine Füße trotzdem langsam in die neuseeländische Erde. Kürzlich las ich die Geschichte von Richard Flanagan, dem australischen Schriftsteller, der aus Tasmanien kommt, und dem seine irischen Vorfahren als Sträflinge nach Tasmanien verfrachten worden waren - ohne je in ihre Heimat zurückzukommen – und unter Britischer Kontrolle fast die ganze einheimische Bevölkerung ausrotteten, wie soll man sich das alles vorstellen als Sohn von Einwanderern, die überhaupt nicht auswandern wollten? Sebalds Auswanderer, im Geist und im Körper sind alle geplagt von einem Heimweh, das sie sich nicht erklären können, vielleicht weil es dazu keine Erklärung geben kann. Emily, hingegen als amerikanische Einwanderin in Deutschland fühlt sich wohl und hat keine Pläne nach Amerika zurückzukehren, auch weil heutzutage man schnell mit dem Flugzeug von München nach Washington in ein paar Stunden fliegen kann, so dass man nicht unbedingt Deutscher ist, sondern Einwohner des ‚global village‘. Neuseeland hingegen liegt immer noch weit entfernt vom globalen Geschehen, so wollen wir nächste Woche von Auckland nach Shanghai fliegen, was mit einem Stopover immer noch 16 Student dauert. Dort wollen wir unseren Sohn, Rangi, und seine Familie besuchen, der an einer Uni Linguistik lehrt. Rangi ist in Auckland geboren, ist hier aufgewachsen, hat seine Doktorarbeit an der University of Auckland gemacht, hat längere Zeit in Taiwan gelebt und gearbeitet, hat eine Taiwanerin geheiratet, sie haben zwei Söhne, und den älteren unterrichtige ich nun regelmassig Deutsch per on-line Konnexion. Leider haben wir unserem Sohn hier in Neuseeland nie Deutsch beigebracht und so muss ich nun als Strafe das beim Großenkel nachholen, der dann dreisprachig sein wird, Englisch, Chinesisch und Deutsch. Obwohl er beteuert, dass er nicht Linguist wie ich und sein Vater werden will, könnte ich mir gut vorstellen, dass er eines Tages in Norwich landet um am British Centre for Literary Translation seinen MA in Literary Translation macht, und dann Sebalds Werke ins Chinesische übersetzt. Er könnte auch überprüfen, ob die chinesische Übersetzung aus dem Englischen meines Chomsky Buches einigermaßen gut ist:

 

 

 

 

Und (schreibt der Übersetzer aus Wertach) natürlich kann er dann mein Chomsky Buch ins Deutsche übersetzen, weil das noch niemand, wie der Valentin, gewagt hat (es gibt aber schon Türkische, Hebräische und Koreanische Übersetzungen). Sprachen sind ja wie die biologische Artenvielfalt – dumme Ökonomen haben zwar berechnet dass es ökonomisch besser wäre wenn wir nur eine Baumart, Pinus Radiata, anpflanzen, weil es viel ökonomischer wäre sie dann einheitlich mit nur einer Roboter-Maschine zu verarbeiten, aber die vernünftigeren Biologen haben darauf hingewiesen dass ein einziger Virus eine Baumart vernichten kann und wir somit überhaupt keine Bäume mehr hatten – und so ist es auch mit Sprachen: die biblische Geschichte ist ja genauso blöde, so ein Schmarrn, hätte sicherlich auch Paul Bereyter auf Französisch gesagt, dass der katholische Gott die verschiedenen Sprachen erfunden um die Menschen zu verwirren und zu bestrafen weil sie einen Turm in den Himmel bauen wollten. Einfältige Menschen sehen die Vielfalt immer als Strafe. Linguistische Vielfalt garantiert unser Überleben, so, wenn auch Englisch einem Virus unterliegt, dann gibt’s immer noch Bayrisch im Allgäu, und ein paar hundert andere Sprachen, mit denen wir uns untereinander unterhalten können, wenn wir mit Paul und Paul B (unbemerkt) den Sebald Weg entlang gehen. 

 

 

  

Vielleicht sollte man alle Straßen und Wege in Deutschland auf Namen der Ausgewanderten umbenennen, obwohl das auch seine Gefahren mitbringen könnte: Sebalds Ausgewanderten sind ja halb echt und halb fiktiv, so wie der fiktive Max Ferber der angeblich auf dem echten Frank Auerbach basiert, der sich aber geweigert hat in der englischen Übersetzung enttarnt zu werden. So lesen wir das jedenfalls bei:

 

Vertigo, where literature and art intersect, with an emphasis on W.G. Sebald and literature with embedded photographs.

 

https://sebald.wordpress.com/category/max-ferber/

 

Ist ja erstaunlich, was die Sebald Industrie alles hervorbringt (z.B. https://www.wgsebald.de/home.html ): und ich hatte gedacht, dass ich ganz originell bin  beim Nachahmen von Sebalds ‚embedded photographs‘ die ich natürlich auch so auf ein bisschen Schwarz-weiß abgefälscht habe, aber trotzdem ungefähr nach APA 7th referenziere, falls sie nicht meine eigenen sind, damit mir niemand Plagiats Vorwürfe machen kann -vielleicht könnte man das beim Sebald machen in Fall vom Ferber - , so wie es ja die Mode ist jetzt in Deutschland bei berühmten Leuten, die sich mit abgeschriebenen Doktorarbeiten verehren. Der deutsche Pass ist wohl der einzige in der Welt in dem man seinen Doktortitel vor seinem Familiennamen setzen kann. Der Herr Dr. Sebald ist wohl die echte Sache. Das hat manchmal schon einen Vorteil: mein Bruder wurde bei einem Flug nach Tokyo als ‚Doktor‘ von seinem Flugticket identifiziert, und weil er auch ein echter Arzt ist hat er gleich einem Passagier sein ,Unbewusstsein‘ diagnostiziert und ihn dazu behandelt, bis er noch am Leben in Tokyo ankam, und dafür bekam er eine echt gute Flasche Champagner. Es wäre mir peinlich, wenn ich als Doktor der Philosophie (PhD) zur Lebensrettung aufgerufen würde, und nur was Allgemeines über Leben und Tod diagnostizieren könnte. Dr. Sebalds halb fiktiver Auswanderer, Dr Henry Selwyn‘ ist auch ein anderes linguistisches Phänoma:  dass sich viele Auswanderer englische Namen annehmen (oder zumindest anglisieren) um nicht im Telefonbuch aufzufallen, oder vielleicht weil die Englischsprachigen immer Schwierigkeiten haben fremde Namen auszusprechen. Zumindest also sollte Deutschland offiziell zu Germany umbenannt werden, was ja viel besser klingt als die ungewisse Etymologie des ‚Deutschen‘ als ‚täuschen‘, und so würden sich die Englischsprachlichen weniger wundern, warum Englisch eine Germanische Sprache sein soll. Sebalds Ferber ist da schon ein bisschen extrem, wenn er sagt, dass er - wohl aus Protest -  kein Wort Deutsch mehr gesprochen hat, seit er Deutschland als Kind verlassen hat, denn Deutsch als Sprache ist ja nicht schuld daran, dass die Nazis Deutschland für immer ruiniert haben. Ich glaube auch kaum an das, was einige Literaturkritiker dem Sebald zugeschoben haben, nämlich dass seine deutsche literarische Sprache der des 19. Jahrhunderts ähnelt, weil er eben angeblich das ‚Neudeutsche‘ der Nachkriegszeit – immer noch von den Nazis infiziert – vermeiden will. Sein Stil, der mich schon ein bisschen an Nietzsche erinnert – die langen Schachtelsätze – ist eigentlich doch unkompliziert, weil man seine manchmal langen Gedankengänge gut nachvollziehen kann. Wie auch mein Freund der Chomsky immer betont, die Sprachkompetenz als ein biologisches Organ ist keiner Ideologie unterworfen, im Gegensatz zu dem was man mit der Sprache alles verrücktes aussagen kann, von Hitler bis wer-weiß wohin, und so ist es ja kein Widerspruch, dass W.G. Sebald und Brigitte Reimann das alles so schön auf Deutsch geschrieben haben und dass Michel Hulse und Lucy Jones das alles so schön ins Englische übersetzt haben. QED. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



Tuesday, August 27, 2024

An urgent review of THE STRUGGLE FOR TAIWAN: A HISTORY by Sulmaan Wasif Khan (2024)

 An urgent review of THE STRUGGLE FOR TAIWAN: A HISTORY by Sulmaan Wasif Khan (2024)

 

This is an up-to-date book about the convoluted triangulation of the USA, PRC and ROC, from the point of view of an US academic sympathetic to the people of Taiwan, if not always to the governments of the US and ROC, and least of all to that of the PRC. The contemporary conundrum, with dire warnings of chaos and nuclear cataclysm, as he posits again and again, is not a historical inevitability but rooted in ignorant choices made by equally ignorant politicians. The hope is therefore that intelligent choices are possible, now and in the future, to reach an accommodation that allows for a modicum of agreement amongst all the political players. That this may be wishful thinking is evidenced by his evaluation of who some of the main players were and still are, and are likely to be again: at the time of writing, ex-president Trump is running to get back and is described by Khan as having had ‘neither principle nor genius, but he did have a low cunning: he saw and exploited the worst feelings in his electorate (p.191)’. None of the other US presidents up to Biden come off much better (the book does not catch up to the Harris’ nomination). PRC’s Xi Jinping is portrayed as even worse than Trump, a bully, not be trusted, as evidenced by his treatment on Hong Kong, saying that ‘the model of governance was no longer “one country, two systems’; it was just one country, and a rather miserable one at that (p.203)’. Such contemporary put-downs serve to highlight the potential for chaos and war, since neither side has any clue how to solve the Taiwan problem peacefully. The Taiwanese president-elect, William Lai, and his predecessor Tsai Ingwei, as the meat in the sandwich do their best to play both sides to their advantage, even though Taiwan is utterly dependent on the US for military support and protection. Khan speculates about possible past and future scenarios, some of which are quite bizarre, such as suggesting Taiwan could have developed its own nuclear weapons as a deterrent. More realistic are the notions of the status-quo remaining indefinitely, i.e. Xi Jinping having a change of heart, hinting benignly that reunification will be achieved in 50 – 100 years, or going totally soft and granting Taiwan independence. Alternatively, Xi or his successors could revert to Deng’s position, offering a genuine “one country, two systems” solution, allowing Taiwan total autonomy, including its own military. It all depends on the PRC. Of course, there is the wishful speculation that the CCP will disintegrate, like the Soviet counterpart did, and democracy will come to China – as it did to Russia? All any US government can do is to scale down the military posturing, seek dialogue with the PRC and hope for the best. 

 

How we got to this seemingly unsolvable geopolitical problem is a well-known historical development. Khan does a good job to recapitulate. It’s a bit of a lost cause, since we all know that nobody ever learns from history, condemned to repeat it. Khan is harking back to empires in the past and how they are buried in the sands of time and circumstance. As such no Chinese nationalist will be interested in the observation that the demise of the Qing dynasty was, in itself, a story of a colonial power losing its grip over China, including the fact that during that time Taiwan was at best an insignificant island that no Chinese emperor cared about. When Taiwan and the Pescadores fell to the Japanese, the only people that rebelled were the local Taiwanese. Perhaps the first stirrings of a Taiwanese identity. Of course, even then there were multitudes of ethnic Chinese divisions, not to speak of the indigenous population (one that Khan gives not much credence). 

 

The latter note (in brackets) has some personal connection: as a linguist resident in New Zealand/Aotearoa I had specialised in Oceanic languages, and as is not so well known, even in Taiwan amongst the Chinese ethnicities, the aborigines of Taiwan are the ancestors of the Polynesian migrations. As such my first sojourn to Taiwan was a linguistics conference at the Academia Sinica in Taipei in 1997, with the seven indigenous tribes and their languages featuring prominently. In 2024 they constitute about 4% of the total population. My personal knowledge of Taiwan goes a bit further though: I worked at a red-brick university in Taoyuan for a year, and we have Taiwanese in-laws. It is not clear from the text if Khan has much personal knowledge of Taiwan but one would guess that he has travelled there. From his references and acknowledgements, it is clear that he owes a great debt to various Taiwanese experts, resident in the US, and as such his academic research is impeccable – notwithstanding his neglect of the indigenous peoples of Taiwan.

 

Getting back to the Japanese occupation of Taiwan and the subsequent reunification with China, Khan asserts that this was by no means a given. While Chiang Kaishek at the Cairo Conference in 1943 extracted from FDR and Churchill the promise that Taiwan and the Pescadores would be returned to him personally as part of the punishment to be meted out to belligerent Japan, there was already a confused and chaotic relationship with the Western Allies, what with Chiang being accused that he failed to fight the Japanese in his return for his obsession to defeat Mao’s communists, who themselves had left open any post-war arrangements concerning Taiwan and other entities formerly conquered during the Qing dynasty. Chiang himself would have happily traded Taiwan for any advantage over the dreaded communists who were far better organised than he was. With defeat looming, Chiang looted the remaining treasures and shipped them off to Taiwan, to where he would retreat, of course certain in his claim that Taiwan belonged to the greater China that he, Chiang, would reconquer from his military base in Taiwan. The victorious Mao proclaiming his PRC did not have the means to go after Chiang immediately, postponing, as it were, the operation for a later date.

 

While most of the Taiwanese happily kissed the Japanese good-bye, they certainly did not expect Chiang and his army and hangers-on to invade Taiwan as some sort of Johnny-come-lately liberators, having already been liberated some four years before. They resisted the onslaught but could not hold them back. Chiang established a brutal police state that thwarted any communist and independence sympathies (I visited Green Island to see the remnants of the time when it was a prison and execution island). Chiang’s ROC having been recognised by the US and her allies as the representatives of a sovereign China despite having absolutely no realistic claim to it, meant of course, that Chiang could strengthen his ragtag army and navy, and turn Taiwan into a fortress with US armaments. McCarthyism in the US had turned the world up-side-down, with the US ready to arm and support any small or big-time dictator who claimed to be a rabid anti-communist. Mao and his CCP had no choice but declare the US and Chiang as imperialist running dogs, but still harbouring the hope that the Taiwanese compatriots would eventually get rid of Chiang – and leave the door open for negotiations as to what is to happen next. Since unfortunately nothing of the sort happened for decades, the PRC came to equate Chiang with Taiwan, now declaring that Taiwan belonged to the PRC, and that reunification would have to achieved, no matter what, and if necessary by force. When in 1979 the US finally faced the facts and recognised the PRC as the ‘one China’ as opposed to the ROC being the ‘one China’, the deal was that Taiwan’s reunification with the PRC was unavoidable but could be delayed by the “one country, two systems” formula, also advocated for Hong Kong and Macao. By that time Chiang’s successor, his son Chiang Chingkuo, still harboured his father’s crazy ambition that he would liberate the PRC, starting out from Taiwan, hence while the US betrayal was hurting, he focussed on strangely contradictory policies that at one stage oppressed the freedoms of the Taiwanese and on the other hand allowed some measure of freedom. To this end, being a narcissist who wanted to be loved by his subjects, he appointed a true-blue Taiwanese as his Premier. Lee Tenghui succeeded Chiang after his death in 1988. Bizarrely, Chiang Chingkuo had been a classmate of Deng Xiaoping in Moscow, so no wonder he was a confused man. As Khan keeps reminding us, history is often based on random choices the movers and shakers of the day make, hence the ‘what if’ scenarios are worth playing out. What if Chiang had not chosen Lee as his potential successor? Would another KMT candidate have accepted Deng’s offer of ‘one country, two systems’ with the added incentive to let them keep their armed forces. After all, this would have guaranteed an unassailable power base for the KMT for decades to come. Lee Tenghui, who had grown up under Japanese occupation, had no appetite to make deals with a remote PRC. Lee was Taiwanese first and Chinese second. Lee also was realist enough to recognise that the KMT dream of retaking the mainland was fading fast even amongst the diehards. To distance himself from the PRC, he had the idea to allow a bit of Westminster democracy, not least because there were stirrings amongst his Taiwanese compatriots who wanted to assert their nationalist fervours. Alarm bells were ringing in the PRC and veiled threats were being made about reunification by force. These bullying tactics, as Khan also reminds us again and again, always had an opposite effect in Taiwan. It stiffened the back of Taiwanese nationalists who nevertheless realised that they cannot push the PRC too far, e.g. with cries for formal independence. 

 

The rest is history, as Khan soldiers through the decades, noting that the various crises were tamped down through luck and occasional good sense, only to resurface when the ‘jingoism and confusion (p.241)’ on both sides meant that neither side had any idea ‘what it would do if things went wrong (ibid.)’. Fast forwarding to Pelosi’s visit, the military posturing response by the PRC is the latest instalment of chaos, accentuated by the Ukraine war, i.e. conflagration a possibility at any given minute. Khan does not really offer an analysis how the Taiwanese population at large copes with such impossible stress, other than suggesting that the internal politics are as much about the price of eggs as they are about negotiating a way through the status quo, in other words an attitude comparable to the infamous ‘nothing new on the Western front’. I use the analogy as Khan also refers to the German ‘kaiser’ during WWI which in popular history is always said to have been triggered by the assassination of the Austrian archduke, meaning, according to Khan, that history is not determined by an internal logic but by events that make no sense, triggering consequences unforeseen, random choices made by kings and queens (Trump referred to Xi as ‘King of China’ during his visit at his Mar-a-Lago mini palace) who have no idea what they are doing. It may be true that people in general go about their daily business even as the dark clouds of war gather over their heads, possibly in the unconscious knowledge that there is nothing they can do about it, as they are the mere bit players on a Shakespearean stage drama. 

 

During my time in Taiwan and my subsequent observations from afar in New Zealand, and having family living in both the PRC and the ROC, I do get nervous reading the latest news even though both sides of the family reassure me that it’s business as usual. Reading Khan’s take on this issue he calls ‘the struggle for Taiwan’ is rather unsettling, as it reminds me of my student days in Germany, waiving Maoist flags without the slightest inkling that many years later I would be confronted quite personally by one of Mao’s ‘choices’ that Khan presents as (p.249):

 

The bitterness of the civil war, however, clouded Mao’s judgement. He could have granted Taiwan independence, at the outset, much as he ceded territory to North Korea and Pakistan … Instead, Mao stuck to the line that Taiwan was part of China.

 

According to Khan, Mao could have dismissed the generalissimo as an insignificant historical footnote, one that Taiwan would get over with in time (as it actually did) and establish friendly relations with the PRC. Again, historians like to point to precedents, as mentioned before, while the German ‘kaiser’ (a linguistic note: in German ‘Kaiser’ is a noun and always spelled with a capital K) should have been considered a historical foot note by the victorious allies and let the Germans get on with establishing a new and better order (as was the Weimar Republic). Instead, the allies inflicted retributive punishment on the German people who then fell for the Nazis. Obviously, the only comparison to Taiwan and Mao is that one should never punish the people for the sins of their rulers. The German Kaiser had abdicated and fled, while Chiang Kaishek, as a sore loser, did not throw in the towel, and instead proceeded to establish a reign of terror in Taiwan. I am not sure if one can so easily blame Mao for being short-sighted. After all he also had to consider the geo-political situation at the time: the US government, engaged in a nasty anti-communist witch-hunt, even with its own borders, did not portend well, especially as the US government bizarrely proceeded to recognise the ROC and Chiang Kaishek as the legitimate government of all of China. So, to play Khan’s ‘if what’ game, if the US had recognised Mao’s new PRC as the legitimate government of China – and maybe even leaving out Taiwan – Mao would have been more willing to consider Khan’s retrospect vision. From this point of view, maybe the US should shoulder most of the blame for the struggle for Taiwan, as Khan calls it, for a real struggle it is, and if you look up the synonyms for ‘struggle’, you should be alarmed and implore the current presidents to make the right, not the wrong choices. Not that Khan is in any way on the side of the PRC despite his sometimes quite severe and justified critiques of US foreign policy, especially since the PRC and the CCP, always fare far worse in the end. Maybe Khan should study the political works of Noam Chomsky to strike the right balance.

 

We, as ordinary citizens of the global village, we don’t really care who is to blame for what, just stop all this nonsense, we just want to live in peace without borders and guards, soldiers and tanks, drones and missiles, dirty politics and dirty money. Unfortunately, such pleas fall on deaf ears in our world of corporate power brokers, as Khan formulates it (p.200):

 

In a capitalist world, trade and investment tend to follow profit. Concerns about identity and political independence are secondary. Money chases money.

 

A sentiment equally attributable to all three combatants: the USA, the PRC and the de facto ROC. Unfortunately. But, as we all know, before you know, fortunes can and sometimes will change overnight, hopefully for the benefit of the ordinary people in Taiwan and around the globe, giving some credence to Khan’s equally hopeful assertion that a history of belligerence does not always determine the future of more of the same. But time is running out. Urgent review needed.

 

 

 

 

Monday, July 22, 2024

NO GRAMMAR, LEXICON 0R ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE WITHOUT SYNTAX

 NO GRAMMAR, LEXICON 0R ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE WITHOUT SYNTAX

 Both language folklore and some linguists share the assertion that words came some time before grammar, both in an evolutionary and synchronic sense. For the latter we know from native language acquisition that children first seem to utter words and repeat them and eventually combine two words that seem to have a rudimentary grammar, like ‘daddy car’. In bio-linguistic theory, however, this is not a case of rudimentary grammar but a case of very elementary grammar, named by Chomsky as MERGE, i.e. to combine two words to make a phrase. In other words, a child cannot combine two words to make a phrase without first having a grammar in situ. 

 

Such a theory is supported by the observation that primates and other so-called intelligent animals can be trained to recognise and use single words but are unable to combine them to construct meaningful phrases, let alone use iteration to combine phrases to construct sentences – a facility that only humans have, namely via the language faculty in the human brain. 

 

In terms of evolutionary, bio-linguistic speculation (or best educated guess/theory), the MERGE operation might have e-merged (sic) as a result of a brain mutation some 150,000 years ago. While single words might have preceded this event, there would have been an explosion of new words following the MERGE operation, i.e. a parallel development of syntax and lexicon. Once lexical-syntactic categorisation, e.g. verbs and nouns, had been established, the door was open to fill the slots. The constraints of vocalisation limited lexical output, and as various regional differences emerged, various techniques were employed to circumvent such limitations, e.g. via polysemy and/or use of tones. Equally as regional differences led to language diversity, various lexical items could become grammaticized, higher level grammatical rules could evolve in different ways, and language change further complicated the history of language evolution. Once various languages were ‘reduced’ to writing systems, we enter the linguistic landscape we live in today. 

 

Going back to child language acquisition, we know that there is a rapid development of complex syntax so that by the age of 5 or so, a fully developed syntax – say English grammar rules – is in place. The extent of the lexicon depends on other factors, such as formal education and highly specific terminology needed for certain professions, e.g. medicine, physics, engineering, literature (Shakespeare is said to have used over 20,000 different words in his published works). As such a finite syntax together with a finite lexicon can generate an infinite output of sentences. An analogy is that of the mathematical axiom that establishes numbers, having an infinite output – noting that syntax is the precursor to that feat. 

 

Since it is claimed by AI enthusiasts that generative AI via Large Language Models can or will operate on this human level, one can easily see a certain fallacy: while GAI/AGI can recombine words and phrases from an ever-increasing data set, and potentially generate new, i.e. never before used expressions, the output limitation is as finite as the data set. Only human syntax is able to generate truly creative, novel expressions, independent of all previous language use. This is not to deny the many potential positive uses of GAI, e.g. searching through enormous data sets of existing medical knowledge, to quicky arrive at a therapeutic solution. However, only the human interface can decide if it actually will work, possibly having an additional creative thought that will be so innovative as to constitute a brand-new extension to the old model. The dangers lie in the false advertising of GAI, in being able to solve all problems put to it, especially when reduced to rational concepts only. Given all the irrational components of human thought/language that are also part of the Large Language Model, we can only expect equally irrational outcomes, however much human censors at the programming level want to weed out the worst excesses – given that for some unknown reason an avalanche of new irrationality is added every second of the day. The idea that rational thinkers will combine with GAI to evolve some sort of singularity, as promoted by the likes of Kurzweil, and replicate paradise on earth, is as romantic as it is unfortunately unrealistic. An instance of GAI hubris is that of another GAI guru, Aschenbrenner, who seems to advocate a new Manhattan Project to develop a GAI tool to defeat the CCP. They are missing the point that the definition of ‘intelligence’, whether human or artificial, is based on generative syntax, and as such AI may never truly eventuate.

 

While there have been attempts to develop syntax-like computer programs to generate language, there has been little progress due to the complexities involved. The statistical/algorithmic methodologies developed by Mercer et al. have been very successful commercially in the meantime, but as they are totally different from human syntax, we only end up with finite translation and recombination machines, cutting out any sort of creativity, any sort of genuine progress, thus condemning us to an eternal status quo. 

 

Since every major language on earth has been described in term of its grammar, often based on traditional models that hark back to ancient Sanskrit, Greek and Latin, one has to assume that, by and large, the core syntax described does reflect the psychological realties of the languages so described. Often there is an exaggerated division between theoretical models – still largely focussed on the cons and pros of Chomskian-style biolinguistics – giving rise to the so-called Linguistics Wars as promoted by the likes of Harris, culminating in a side show that has very little scientific merit. Claims that language arises from general cognitive principles are also popular, negating the necessity of specific syntactic principles. Even so we always seem to end up with certain rules resembling syntax that determine what makes language use comprehensible and what not. One has to be careful here to distinguish between what is generally an un-grammatical sentence construction rendering it incomprehensible (e.g. ‘Not mouse cat was today catch’) and irrational nonsense that is nevertheless expressed in perfectly acceptable, i.e. grammatically correct expressions (cf. Chomsky’s famous grammatically correct sentence ‘Green ideas sleep furiously.’). This echoes de Saussure’s well-known distinction between langue (structure, syntax, language competence) and parole (speech, language use). As such syntacticians (grammarians) have no particular interest in the use of language other than analysing unusual, complex sentences (they find or make up themselves) for their structural components yielding a measure of linguistic competence. This always seems odd for some linguists and language folklorists who are wedded to the idea that language equals communication, i.e. only the principles of communication determine the way we use language. That this is a patently one-sided approach can be seen in the commonsense observation that language is a tool for expressing thoughts, which may or may not be communicated to anyone else but oneself – the latter, BTW, points to one of the most interesting issues in syntax, namely reflexives. Hence I would refine Chomsky’s dictum that ‘anaphora are a window into the mind’ to ‘reflexives are the window into the mind’. Such thoughts, expressed in language, only seem to strengthen my assertion is that language equals thought. QED (no references needed).

 

 

Saturday, July 6, 2024

A CONFUSED REVIEW OF SEA OF EDEN BY ANDRES IBANEZ

 A CONFUSED REVIEW OF SEA OF EDEN BY ANDRES IBANEZ

 

If this novel were to be made into a movie, the last scene would have to be R18 – or maybe not. The mother-to-be who envelopes the father-to-be between her thighs, the place he thinks is heaven and paradise in one. It’s the most torturous love story ever told. In an attempt to reflect the crazy world around us, Ibanez leads us by the nose across a vast landscape that is an island, an island like planet earth, cut off from a universe that is and isn’t us. Like Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle – unfortunately not featured in the novel – we, like electrons, cannot be sure where we are, where we are not. Are the great mystics charlatans or are they the real thing? Is Anton Bruckner one? For Ibanez aka Juan, the man, there is only one tripartite solution: music, numbers and women - the latter best presented naked. The Societas Rosicruciana in Anglia (Rosicrucian Society of England) or SRIA feature as one of the main factions on the island, with one Abraham Lewellyn at the helm – the current Supreme Magi is suitably named Anthony W. Llewellyn – makes life for the newly crashed castaways hell on earth only to redeem themselves in the end by letting everyone get off the island. The ruse of having a Boeing 747 crash-land on the beach of an unknown Pacific Island is pretty absurd, especially invoking a Polynesian tribe that goes there to practice cannibalistic rituals – a somewhat primitive, racist Eurocentric idea from the 19th century. Equally absurd are the Latin-American styled ‘guerrillas’ whose Stalinist leader, in the name of absolute equality amongst the comrades, screws the women of his choice while everyone else has the right to screw everyone they like. Juan and his band of civilised castaways who are their prisoners for a while, note with great distaste that fornication and defecation occur in the same location. What a put-own! One can only guess what Ibanez’ political affinations are. We do of course learn towards the end what the ideal is: the White University, where meditation rules supreme, in an effort to find the real self that is love incarnated, tantric sex meditation included. The academic subjects listed sound a bit like up-to-date summaries from Wikipedia and I was first excited to read that Linguistics is a very important one, only to be disappointed that only ‘structuralism’ was mentioned in passing, a somewhat outmoded concept. The paradisical environment of the university, the ‘Eden’ of the title of the novel, matched only by the perfect-in-every-way residents, is of course a nice idea that has been explored in literature many times, and as such sounds a bit tired in its apparent futility. Since the castaways are an example of the flawed nature of people, what with the Swiss Kunze billionaire attempting a right-wing takeover versus all the liberals, the obvious question is what the point is to describe the human condition in such mystical terms, in a sometimes-bizarre mix of magic realism and outright nonsense. The main love story in its Iberian context is a refreshing one for jaded Anglo-Saxon readers, even in an English translation that occasionally goes overboard with exotic vocabulary like enticing bodies described as ‘svelte’. Love as a long torturous up-hill journey – literally up the mountains – what with misunderstandings and separation, ending in a ‘happy end’ sounds a bit like a Hollywood blockbuster but is quite original in its execution. Cristina, the love interest par excellence, is the kind of woman whose pursuit of spiritual enlightenment and sexual laissez-faire can drive any man insane unless he is prepared, like our hero Juan, to try and match her spiritual heights that amongst other things reveal the female body as a temple dedicate to beauty and art. Ibanez is clever in juxtaposing this state of affairs with that of his hero’s musical hero, Anton  Bruckner who it is said was quite a simpleton in terms of his catholic spirituality and his rather pathetic attempts to enlist a virgin as his wife. How can such a man compose such great music? Ibanez as a musician of note, or so we read in the biographical notes, lets fly with incredible details that only a true-blue musician could appreciate. For example he cites the first movement of Beethoven’s Sonata No.3 in which a particular chord, D flat, B flat, G, F, a dominant ninth, is said to have a ‘sweetness‘ and ‘mystery’ that never fails to ‘enchant’. Having a budding pianist in my house at the time of writing this – practising Rachmaninov’s Prelude in C sharp minor (Op.3 No 2) - I asked him to play it for me and then expand on his verdict in this matter. He said it was an interesting chord but nothing to go to town with. Bruckner like Wagner were of course the favourite composers of the least likely music aficionado, Adolf Hitler, and while one cannot blame Bruckner or Wagner for such an unfortunate fan base, I cannot help but feel a bit uneasy about Ibanez’ glorification of Bruckner. 

 

Many of the supporting actors like Wade, the all-American lad with a history that goes on and on over many pages, adding weight to the 617 pages, all seem to confirm the suspicion that the good old US of A is still the best place to be, at least compared to Spain, Switzerland, India and Mexico – the latter featuring the Narcos who send out drugged, naked women into the desert to be hunted and killed like animals. European artists and intellectuals often seem to have a fascination with the US of A, as the land of unlimited, individualistic opportunity, not stifled by social democratic ideas like social welfare, Kafkaesque bureaucracy and a pervasive type of catholic puritanism that denies individual choices. In the USA there are of course also extremes of puritanism but at the same time there has always been a sense of very liberal attitudes to sex, possibly in the tradition of Afro-American culture, or more cynically because sex sells. Ibanez can only dream about finding enlightenment between the thighs of a woman but maybe it is a realistic choice for some Americans. Not that Ibanez explores any of these points I raise here, for he is not interested in any political or social analysis in the European tradition. There is also the sense that jaded Europeans are very selective about their art and music while Americans acknowledge that they are lacking in this department, and as such welcome any European eccentric who wants to study and play Bruckner’s Eighth Symphony ad nauseam, providing a generous stipend and the real opportunity to make it big. Given that Latin-American Spanish literature (and in English translation) has a substantial presence in the US, a true-blue Spaniard like Ibanez can climb the literature billboard and be invited by the likes of Oprah Winfrey. Variously described as a ‘genius’ by literary critics, I wouldn’t jump on the band wagon, especially as these days in popular, hyperbolic culture everyone who sells something or someone is a genius. Still, Sea of Eden is a compelling read even if sometimes a bit too heavy on the weird type of hyper-magic realism – juxtaposed by some merely violent realism. Happily, for the two main protagonists, in the end true love conquers all. For everyone else out of love, it’s rather confusing.

Wednesday, June 12, 2024

MORE IN THE MATTER OF J. ROBERT OPPENHEIMER

 MORE IN THE MATTER OF J. ROBERT OPPENHEIMER

 

 

“I am the new Oppenheimer“ says an unidentified man who claims to work in nuclear weapons research at Los Alamos laboratory. This is reported by a Guardian (May 2024) correspondent who attended an event that yielded the catchy headline ‘I’m the new Oppenheimer!’: my soul-destroying day at Palantir’s first-ever AI warfare conference’. The man in question had asked the correspondent if she had seen Oppenheimer – she had not. Having watched this insipid movie myself, I’d have to say she has not missed much. The only interesting consequence in my case was that I had forgotten that I have a copy in my library of In the Matter of J. Robert Oppenheimer by Hainar Kipphardt, first published in German in 1964. Kipphardt, I have learned since, was a German playwright who specialised in documentary-style plays. In his foreword he says that the chief source were the records of the Oppenheimer hearings on his security clearing, as published by the United States Atomic Energy Commission in 1954. In further notes that are interesting to me as impinging on translation theories, he says that he ‘exercised his freedom only in the selection, the arrangement, formulation and condensation of the material’. I will comment on this in greater detail but suffice to say here that it is a fascinating procedure to translate English text into German (presumably by Kipphardt himself) and then have it translated back into English by a translator (in my copy given as Ruth Spiers). So, when reading the play in English translation, one does not read the verbatim text from the original documents but one reads an edited version that compresses 3,000 pages into some 120, reducing the character list to Oppenheimer, and Gray, Evans and Morgan of the Security Board, and Robb, Rolander, Garrison and Marks of the Counsel, and Radzi, Lansdale, Teller, Bethe, Griggs and Rabi of the Witnesses. As such it is an easy read, albeit a very disturbing one.

 

The literature on this subject is extensive and I do not presume to be an expert on the matter other than an interested bystander who is worried about the world’s arsenals of A and H bombs, that at the flick of a finger can blow up the whole earth in a radioactive fireball – the split-second endgame of all life on earth, not just the so-called human one. Oppenheimer as the ‘father of the atom bomb’ is obviously a subject of fascination, not as a faceless scientist, engineer & technician who coordinated the manufacture of the ‘gadget’ but as a somewhat conflicted humanist who sold his Faustian soul to the devil in the guise of the US military complex, only to be discarded once he had done his job, to be succeeded by Teller, his former colleague, who charged ahead without any scruples at all in developing the H bomb. Teller’s witness statement at Oppenheimer’s security clearance hearing was most likely the deciding factor not to grant Oppenheimer the clearance. Teller’s misgivings were mainly based on Oppenheimer’s opposition to develop the H bomb from the word go, concentrating solely on the A bomb. Combined with Teller’s anti-communism Oppenheimer didn’t stand a chance, given his previous history of being a communist sympathizer. On the other hand, the US military establishment had to have a US citizen – born in the USA - in the first instance as the lead at Los Alamos: Teller as a Hungarian immigrant didn’t make the cut on that count. Only when it emerged that Teller would have charged ahead with the H bomb from the beginning - and combined with the post-war McCarthy era – only then was Teller considered the salvation for the US military. And Teller delivered without any subsequent fanfares. Fusion-fission. And then the Soviets outdoing him with a fission-fusion-fusion bomb. As a colourless, conservative scientist cum MAD advocate, Teller is hardly the stuff of a Hollywood blockbuster. Nevertheless, Kipphardt in his theatrical version devotes quite some space to Teller, condensing his testimony in the manner of a Marc Antony speech “for Brutus/Oppenheimer is an honourable man”. Comparing the original transcripts with Kipphardt’s text one detects a clever strategy of using original phrases to construct new sentences, thereby emphasizing the points made. The effect is a negative impression of Teller, which would make sense to a youthful Kipphardt’s left-leaning tendencies, but one who becomes quite conservative in later years, which might have drawn him to Oppenheimer in the first place, i.e. a trajectory of a fairly radical leftist in his younger years, only to turn into a somewhat conflicted conservative, not actually too dissimilar to Teller in the end – after all Teller eventually nominated Oppenheimer for the Fermi Award. To exemplify my case, I compare a sample of Teller’s original text with that of Kipphardt’s, namely in answer to the original question 

 

“Do you or do you not believe that Dr. Oppenheimer is a security risk?” 

 

which Kipphardt rephrases as 

 

“Do you regard Dr. Oppenheimer as a security risk?” 

 

(since this is a translation of the German text I will one day investigate the whole circular process, i.e. how Kipphardt translated and edited the original English text into his German version and how this German version was translated back into English, as given here).

 

                  Original answer by Teller:

 

“In a great number of cases I have seen Dr. Oppenheimer act – I understand that Dr. Oppenheimer acted - in a way which for me was exceedingly hard to understand. I thoroughly disagreed with him in numerous issues and his actions frankly appeared to me confused and complicated. To this extent I feel that I would like to see the vital interest of this country in hands which I understand better, and therefore trust more. In this very limited sense I would like to express a feeling that I would feel personally more secure if public matters would rest in other hands.”

 

Kipphardt’s Teller answer:

 

“His actions after the war appeared to me confused and complicated, and I personally would feel more secure if the vital interests of this country did not rest in his hands.” 

 

Teller’s original answer is hedging the point, requiring the listener/reader to deduce the implications for himself, i.e. Oppenheimer is a security risk. Kipphardt’s version is much more direct and to the point, pointing to Oppenheimer in saying

 

“I personally would feel more secure if the vital interests of this country did not rest in his hands”. 

 

One could argue that the gist of the matter is the same but, of course, what is lost is how it is said, i.e. Teller being very circumspect, trying to avoid making any decisive statements, lest he be accused by counsel for Oppenheimer to get his facts mixed up, and yet hint at his advice not to give Oppenheimer his security clearance.  Kipphardt perhaps had learned that a great many scientists of that time disagreed with Teller’s assessment, painting him into a corner of a nasty individual who betrayed his erstwhile benefactor, and as such let’s him speak accordingly. To put it in Hollywood terms, Oppenheimer is the good guy and Teller the bad one. In my estimation, however, they both belong in the bad category, Teller being worse than Oppenheimer. 

 

I do get this sense from a source that is quite fascinating, namely a Lacanian psychoanalysis of Oppenheimer in Hub Zwart’s (2017) Tales of Research Misconduct subtitled A Lacanian Diagnostics of Integrity Challenges in Science Novels. The trigger for selecting the Case of Robert Oppenheimer in Chapter 4 of the book is the novel by Haakon Chevalier entitled The Man who would be God, published in 1959, a classic roman á clef. As is well known, the Chevalier incident was the cause celebre that caused a lot of trouble for Oppenheimer in that he did not report Chevalier’s mention in 1942, that an acquaintance of his – presumably a fumbling English spy for the Soviets, named Eltenton - wanted to make contact with Oppenheimer in order to inform Soviet scientist about progress in making the A-bomb, or some such suggestion, which Oppenheimer had refuted out of hand. When eventually questioned about it by the security services, Oppenheimer first made up some ‘cock-and bull’ story but eventually admitted that he Eltenton and Chevalier were involved. Nothing much came of it because no information was handed over, and the FBI filed it away as an interesting but insignificant incident. Only when dug up again in 1954, it was played up as a major indictment by the McCarthyites, as a useful ruse to give cover to Teller. After the House Subcommittee on Un-American Activities hearing in 1950, Chevalier, as a nominal communist, had resigned/lost his job as Romance literature lecturer at Berkely and had moved to France to pursue his academic literary interests, including the writing of a novel that closely resembles the story of Oppenheimer and his friend Chevalier. Chevalier had first met Oppenheimer at Berkley in 1937, and they had become friends until they were eventually separated by way of Oppenheimer’s secret assignment in Los Alamos. 

 

Before delving into the details of the novel, Zwart introduces the reader to the general Oppenheimer story, as a kind of Zeitgeist phenomenon that changed our world for ever, where science colluded with the military to bring us to the brink of extinction. Citing Husserl who maintained that science always had a moral dimension, Zwart also quotes Sloterdijk as ‘the history of science is like the burning away of a conceptual fuse winding from Athens to Hiroshima.’ Metaphors galore: Oppenheimer, the final explosion! Zwart then shows off Lacan’s schematic analysis of university discourse as applied to the science topic:

 

 


S2                                               a


------------------------------------------------

 

 S1                                              $

 

 

The upper level shows the actual achievements of science, S2 being the agents (the scientists) with the ultimate achievement being alpha (a), e.g.  the discovery of the elementary particles. Below the bar is what Husserl calls the ‘normative ideal’ (e.g. latent truth, basic conviction, moral vocation) leading to an existential crisis ($).  Swart then analyses the story of Oppenheimer in these terms only, which at times yields stunning insights but at other times seems more like an academic exercise. The irony not stated is, of course, that Zwart’s treatise is subject to exactly the same scheme, especially as it falls squarely into the ‘university discourse’ model entertained by Lacan.

 

Before delving into the details, let me explain my caveat: the ‘normative ideal’ under the bar is questionable since the existential crisis ($) is triggered by all ideological players involved, be it capitalism, communism, nationalism, totalitarianism, fascism or any -ism – and all in shades of grey. Maybe the ‘normative ideal’ is not an ideology but a universal psychological trait, the Freudian death wish perhaps? Since the USA were the only military machine that actually used the atom bomb, we might have to still qualify the death wish as something peculiar to the USA, to Oppenheimer? To Teller? To General Groves? To psychoanalyse the lot, as Zwart does sort of, is likely to yield some fascinating insights, as I noted above. I will detail some of them, adding my own two cents worth on occasion:

 

The first observation is in fact a combination of Zwart and Chevalier (his novel), whereby Oppenheimer (Bloch in the novel) is described as a Jekyll and Hyde character with divided loyalties (as seen by the US Secret Service agent), with Zwart assigning Hyde as the Lacanian $ (the communist) and Jekyll as Ss (the impassive expert persona). Zwart does not spell out who/what is S1. He does, however, provide an interesting take on ‘a’ (alpha) which in science hitherto was always in the public domain but now in the last instance, this atomic discovery has become ‘classified’ knowledge, a dangerous object that transforms into $ (the existential crisis) – a transformation that in psychoanalysis is called sublimation (according to Zwart, p.105). As such any S2involved becomes a security risk and must be monitored day and night by the FBI. On the other hand, as I presume, a scientist like Teller presents no $ risk since his S (the impassive scientist) more or less equals his S1 personae in that he shares the ideology of the FBI – to be absolutely sure, they will still monitor him as well, just in case he has a psychotic episode and turns communist. In any case, the Jekyll and Hyde characterization of Oppenheimer seems an apt one, not so much that he had a divided personality but that he morphed from Hyde (the early communist sympathiser) into Jekyll (the mad nuclear bomb scientist) and then back to a different sort of Hyde who advocated for international control of all nuclear weapons, a pipe dream that Heller derided, saying (in Kipphardt’s version) that

 

“people will learn political common sense only when they are really and truly scared. Only when the bombs are so big that they can destroy everything there is”. 

 

A statement that is truly $ (MAD). Oppenheimer’s belated realisation that it was wrong to develop the A bomb in the first place is, of course, in terms of real politic also flawed because a (alpha) as public domain knowledge, as far back as Hahn’s discovery of nuclear fission, was bound to arouse (in Freudian terms) many a scientist like Oppenheimer who immediately thought of a big explosion (ejaculation in Freudian terms). There seems to be an inevitability in the scientific method that brought us to this point – as earlier said by Sloterdijk. Even as the various security apparatuses around the world do their damnedest to keep the latest nuclear weapons research under lock and key – as was presumably always the case in the history of weapons research and development – the genie will escape (since Zwart occasionally sprinkles German key words in the text to remind us that Germans by and large are to blame, one cannot help but point out that ‘genie’ in German means ‘genius’., i.e. genius will escape faster than any genie). 

 

Chevalier’s novel is also partly a discourse on the psychological make-up of the chief FBI agent who tries to figure out Oppenheimer. While there is no factual background to this particular scenario, Chevalier uses the device, Dostoyevsky-like, as in all good, old fashioned detective stories, trying to psychoanalyse – in crude terms – the criminal mind of Oppenheimer. Of course, there were any number of FBI agents who questioned and monitored Oppenheimer, and one can assume that in the FBI hierarchy there were agents who busied themselves writing up psychological profiles, adding to the ever-growing pile of secret files. Since Chevalier was a good friend of Oppenheimer, he could hardly forgive Oppenheimer for what he thought of as a friend’s betrayal, i.e. naming him in what became known as the Chevalier incident, as mentioned above. However Chevalier main puzzle was to make sense of his friend’s overall trajectory (nachvollziehen in German), especially his seeming abandonment of communist ideas and ideals.

 

Which brings me to Zwart’s chapter (4.5) entitled ‘The Case of Communism’. Since the polyglot Oppenheimer is reported to have read – in German - all three volumes of Das Kapital over a weekend, one can hardly claim he was not sufficiently acquainted with communism, so as to let go of it. There is no evidence upon reading that Das Kapital and other such literature which was provided at that time by his fellow travellers, his brother, wife, mistress and Chevalier himself, Oppenheimer decided that dialectical materialism was all wrong on logical, scientific grounds, hence there must have been other factors that led him to such abandonment of an ideology he seemed to agree with in the beginning. Indeed, as Zwart points out via Chevalier’s authentic voice, communism as an ideal in those early days – and presumably up to this day – was/is the equivalent of the scientific method: 

 

Communism is social engineering and decidedly strives to be science-based (p.102).


The Soviet Union and Western allies battling the Nazis and axis powers seemed a reasonable basis for many allied scientists to assume that nuclear science and the development of the ‘bolt’ aligns S2 and S1, i.e. science and communist ideology (Marxism) are compatible even in the USA, expecting that after the defeat of the Nazis an international atomic agency would take control over all nuclear weapons and their development. The events that disrupted this alignment were the surrender of the Third Reich and later Khruschev’s secret speech that condemned Stalin. Stalinism became discredited and with it discredited communism as a whole – at least in the eyes of some. Combined with the rabid anti-communism in the USA, many a left-leaning scientist began to doubt even the basic tenets of communism. Is this what happened to Oppenheimer? Such a philosophical reorientation seems unlikely in a personal environment (brother, wife, best friends) that still believed in the communist idealism, if not in the real politic power applications in the Soviet Bloc countries, China and Cuba. However, according to Zwart’s interpretation of Chevalier’s novel, Oppenheimer, after the dropping of the bombs, is ‘frantically’ trying to secure some sort of control over nuclear weapons within the confines of the USA, and in this quest is even willing to betray his former communist friends and colleagues, giving names to security agents, making ‘fabrications’ that lead to the Chevalier incident. In other words, Zwart is assuming that Oppenheimer is so desperate to keep a hold on the scientific, political and miliary establishment in the USA, even as he must see McCarthyism on the horizon, as to abandon any communist sympathies. It’s an interesting theory but I am not totally convinced. 

 

When Oppenheimer and his colleagues at Los Alamos compromised on the security arrangements under the then ideological alignment, that required some sort of secrecy in order to defeat the Nazis’ attempts to develop a nuclear weapon, there was no need to abandon communist sympathies, as indeed everyone was on the same page – maybe even the security agencies (or at least some of the MI5 players in the UK). Oppenheimer at that stage was at the top of the pile – even able to sideline hardcore anti-communists like Teller – and he must have felt that this arrangement would continue, and that his advice on further nuclear weapons development and production would be heeded. Even some stiff resistance did not deter him, believing that the security clearance hearing in 1954 would be in his favour. He was firmly of the belief that his past communist sympathies, especially when they aligned with the allied ideology to defeat Nazism, would have no bearing on his present situation in which he has virtually no such sympathies left, recognizing that the Russians – the nominal communists – are now the enemy of the free world. He further believed that his opposition to the H-bomb had absolutely nothing to do with his past sympathies. Oppenheimer miscalculated that such rational sounding argumentation would not fall foul of anti-communist zealots like Robb and Rolander who subjected him to questioning that was both insulting and unfair in legal terms. In participating in this semi-legalistic procedure, Oppenheimer had to continuously lower his guard, trying to minimize his communist past even when false accusations were made – only once did he remove himself as a witness when asked highly personal questions. Oppenheimer let himself be forced into the defensive when attacked. His counsel was not much better. In the end the humiliation was exactly the dream come true for the prosecution: Oppenheimer having denied being a fellow traveller ever since 1942 or so, was now judged to still be a fellow traveller, and on his own admission had to rule himself out of a security clearance. Had he stuck to his argument that as a mildly communist sympathiser in terms of left-wing idealism he was perfectly able to discharge his duties at the Atomic Energy Commission, in 1954 and beyond, he would have prevailed. Oppenheimer’s most powerful argument, in my opinion, as phrased in Kipphardt’s version is his answer to Robb’s bizarre claim that he and his fellow scientists are solely there to protect the freedom of the world, like universal soldiers:

 

There are people who are willing to protect freedom until there is nothing left of it.

 

Another good argument that was swept under the carpet by the prosecution, was Oppenheimer’s assertion that being a communist does not mean one is engaged in espionage:

 

Juliot-Curie in France … He is a Communist, and he is in charge of the French atomic weapons program.

 

As such, I feel that Oppenheimer, in his unwarranted eagerness to argue with the deaf  prosecution, pursued a flawed defensive strategy. Sure, Oppenheimer never was a communist in the sense of a Party member but dialectical materialism as a scientific enterprise continued unabated in the USA, as much as in the rest of the so-called free world. In denying this history and instead cosying up to the conservative political and military machinery in the USA, Oppenheimer also revealed a weakness in his character that in the end did not distinguish him much from the likes of Teller and Co.

 

In conclusion, Zwart’s Lacanian treatment of Oppenheimer via Chevalier’s novel is a fascinating effort to disentangle – to psychoanalyse – a complex persona that has certainly changed the course of history, if not always intentionally, then arising from his conflicted conscience between S2 and S1. It would be interesting to learn what Lacan himself would have made of Zwart’s analysis, not least since Lacan was on occasion associated with the French far left student rebellion, hence he would be unlikely to endorse Zwart’s exercise, i.e. an Oppenheimer character not deserving the attention given, Oppenheimer being a mere reactionary. Then again, Lacan would be accused by Lenin as being a symptom of the ‘childhood diseases’ common to leftist causes. 

 

So let us turn to Chevalier’s ‘setting the record straight’ book from 1966 which tells us to be careful not to take his earlier novel as the one and only truth (as perhaps Zwart does many years later), given it is a fictionalized account. Reading the 1966 version one does not learn much more, except Chevalier’s unsolved puzzlement as to how Oppenheimer could have betrayed him in the way he did. His main explanation seems to be that Oppenheimer played a silly game (his cock ‘n bull story that he had been approached by three unidentified people asking for information but that nothing had come of it – all to satisfy the dumb security agents eagerness to find spies under every bed) that backfired when the security apparatus (FBI and military intelligence) took it more seriously than anticipated – although nothing came of it at the time even when he named himself and Chevalier to be the ‘three’ contacts – but years later in 1954 provided the ammunition with which to deny Oppenheimer his security clearance to be renewed. Chevalier is of course disappointed in his ‘best friend’ to have abandoned his socialist if not communist sympathies for the sake of getting the job with General Groves – who by the way, secured the clearance for Oppenheimer despite misgivings from the FBI, which in turn begs the question why a general would want to give a left leaning scientist such a job. Maybe General Groves had an inkling that only Oppenheimer could manage a crazy lot of scientists under military curfew. Chevalier does not comment on Oppenheimer’s main motivation that seems to have been his antifascist stance, in doing everything possible to defeat the Nazis who were said to have advanced plans for an atomic weapon. As such Oppenheimer had to fry a much larger fish than keeping up with Chevalier who played absolutely no role in this endeavour other than equating anti-fascism with communism. For if the Germans had succeeded in developing an atomic weapon, Hitler and Co. would have no doubt used it and turned WWII into a conflagration far beyond anything conceivable. Neither communists in general, nor the Soviet communists in particular, could do anything about it – only the Americans could, be they capitalist or whatever (the Soviets were after all allies). Of course, as Chevalier also notes, when it emerged in 1945 (or earlier) that the Germans did not have the capacity or even the plans to develop an atomic weapon, and that the Nazis were close to defeat, thus negating the need to atom-bomb the Nazis out of existence, why shift the now un-necessary atomic bomb that Oppenheimer had successfully developed to atom-bomb the Japanese? Oppenheimer’s excuse that he did not advocate the actual use of the ‘gadget’, that he only advised Truman and the generals where to potentially drop it, that in Chevalier’s eyes – and in many others – was of course flatly rejected. Oppenheimer did of course have no say in how to use the bomb once it had been assembled (and could be assembled again and again without his input) and it is understandable that he cheered the dropping of the bomb since it was him, and him alone, who made it possible. It lifted his ego to heights unmatched in the history of science. Who could blame him? That along the way he had to manoeuvre in fields unknown to him, especially the top-secret security aspects that from a military point of view seemed to make some sense in the face of potential Nazi spies, all that and more must have swirled around his head, what with General Groves buzzing around like a fly on the wall, with everyone under surveillance, with everyone suspected not of Nazi sympathies but increasingly of former and present communist sympathies, as the Soviet Union and communism became a red flag for rabid anti-communists. While the Nazis were on the forefront this did not matter but once their influence waned, Oppenheimer had to contend with this new trend. What Chevalier does not realise – or at least does not comment on – is that Oppenheimer faced other opposition as well that fed into this alarming new trend, namely that of Teller and his ilk. Teller as a brilliant scientist and anti-communist breathed down Oppenheimer’s neck with his insistence to go to the next step and develop the H-bomb., which Oppenheimer resisted. This was the real reason that in 1954 Oppenheimer was accused of treason – obliquely – by Teller, i.e. that Oppenheimer had stalled the H-bomb that could have given the anti-communist Americans a clear advantage over the Soviet Union. Once Teller had been given the go-ahead for the H-bomb by the US military machine, he kind of turned around and did recommend Oppenheimer for various awards to make amends for the 1954 betrayal. While Chevalier kept writing letters to Oppenheimer – from Paris – wanting him to explain his betrayal of him, and not getting any satisfactory replies other than Oppenheimer’s contention that there was nothing to explain – as everything had been explained in the 1954 AEC hearings, namely that he had been an ‘idiot’ involving Chevalier in his cock and bull story. Presumably Oppenheimer did not feel that he had betrayed Chevalier and in some way resented his missives to the contrary, nevertheless keeping the correspondence on a polite level. It is also interesting to learn from Chevalier himself, that as a matter-of-fact Oppenheimer did not as such destroy his academic career at Berkely, since he had resigned from Berkely because he could not get a promotion he felt he had deserved. To argue that Oppenheimer was to blame for that as well might be a step too far, even though Chevalier had been interrogated by the FBI who did not take the matter any further, realising that the story told by Chevalier was nothing but the truth, which in turn was of no interest to the security services other than their fascination with all things Oppenheimer, e.g. not even interviewing-interrogating Eltenton who was the real prospect. That the FBI sent a message to Berkely about this issue is unlikely since it was already well known that Chevalier is a left-leaning socialist, if not a true red communist, and as such not exactly material for promotion to full professor. Oppenheimer might have expected that Chevalier understood all this and as such not play the victim in a drama that had very little to do with him, other than being used by the rabid McCarthyites to bring down Oppenheimer. That Chevalier made his own personal publishing drama out of it is understandable as well, for who would not use all this material that saw him attached, however loosely, to history in the making. Make hay while the sun shines on you. However, Chevalier is honest enough to acknowledge this at the end of his book, saying it ‘may perhaps at least serve as a footnote to that history’. 

 

Oppenheimer at that stage in 1966 had turned into a celebrity scientist who travelled the world giving talks about this and that, like a latter day Einstein whom Oppenheimer had denounced when meeting Malraux and Chevalier in Paris, to the surprise of everyone there, as having done no science for the last 20 years, basking in the sun, and as the salacious story goes (not told by Oppenheimer), having Playboy mags hidden between his science papers. Even worse for Chevalier, Oppenheimer at that occasion also denounced Malraux – Chevalier’s hero – as having 

 

“some understanding as to what science isn’t. But he has no conception of what science is”. 

 

Wow, what a put down! Anyway, Oppenheimer who himself never had done any real fundamental science to crow about - unlike Einstein - but politically like Einstein supported the liberal American establishment – the Democrats – which is anathema for seasoned socialists and French communists (which Chevalier had morphed into) but cannot be reduced to individuals like Oppenheimer and Einstein. Chevalier knows that as well. It is of course painful to know one personally. For example, I know my hero Noam Chomsky quite well, and when it transpired that he was vaguely associated with the notorious Epstein, I hesitated for a moment. If Chomsky were to be unmasked as a fervent supporter of the politics of the Democrats (Chomsky nevertheless advises to vote for Biden to prevent Trump from returning, which may be fair enough, or maybe not) I would be crestfallen. Oppenheimer, to his credit as far as I can see – nevertheless quoted by Chevalier as evidence of his ‘perverted kind of reasoning’ – did say in a 1961 Time Magazine (sic) interview that he would 

 

“like to see a general strike by the officers of all the armed forces on earth, refusing to drop nuclear bombs or to push the fatal button”. 

 

which echoes my sentiment exactly: if only all people on earth would refuse to wear uniforms and bear arms, all the problems of the world would be solved at once. I also know that this is not going to happen anytime soon, and so I can enjoy my retirement in the countryside without fear of any upheavals that might eventuate along the way, like the revolution eating her children again. I take it, Chevalier enjoyed his last years in Paris like any good champagne socialist should, passing at a ripe old age of 83. Poor old Oppenheimer paid for his sins as a chain smoker at the age of only 62.

 

Fast forwarding to the present situation, we are not really concerned with Lacan or Zwart or Chevalier but rather with the legacies of Oppenheimer and Teller: the latter’s prediction that people are too scared to use H-bombs seems to hold so far but Oppenheimer’s concern with an ever-increasing threat of MAD – also voiced presently by the likes of Noam Chomsky – lurks in the foreground. Who would have thought that with the demise of Soviet-style communism, a new Russian-style nationalism would emerge to upset the ‘free world’ yet again, what with Putin threatening all and sundry with annihilation if attacked, for example warning the UK she could be obliterated in one go  by exploding a rather large nuclear device carried on a submarine, no doubt a fission-fusion-fusion-fusion (…) ‘bolt’. NATO is at the Russian border to deliver likewise, testing, testing with conventional warfare delivered to the Ukraine. Other countries like China, India, Pakistan, Israel and various rogue states basteln an den H  Bomben, exploiting Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle, turning the security of the world into a nightmare. So, while we are waiting, or not waiting for the new Oppenheimer to emerge, we can only watch the old Oppenheimer for a forgettable night at the movies.

 

 

Chevalier, Haakon 1966. Oppenheimer, the story of a friendship. Andre Deutsch.

 

Kipphardt, H. 1969. In the Matter of J. Robert Oppenheimer. A Spotlight Dramabook.

 

Zwart, H. 2017. Tales of Research Misconduct. Springer Open.

 

‘I’m the new Oppenheimer!’: my soul-destroying day at Palantir’s first-ever AI warfare conference.

https://www.theguardian.com/technology/article/2024/may/17/ai-weapons-palantir-war-technology

 

Oppenheimer (2023) The Movie.