Friday, June 18, 2010

Forward to the 2-nd edition of the book "Archival Documents of the Viennese Armenian Turkish Platform" by Alfred Gusenbauer, former Chancellor of Austria

Alfred Gusenbauer

Taboo and denouement
On prohibitions, frenzy, systems and the need for a solution


As history was being hastily dismissed – in the context of Poststructuralism, for example, by intellectual amusements à la Postmodernism and Posthistoire – it was unfortunately forgotten that all varieties of ”anything goes” have opened the doors to triviality. At the risk of getting myself in trouble with these dismissal specialists, I’d like to point out that politics and social systems don’t allow themselves be flipped over so easily in the book of history without immediately showing their ugly sides. While it’s always possible to create new nouns using ”de-” and ”post-” as prefixes, those involved in the practice of doing so have failed to recognize their effects, and they do not contribute to the solution of problems. From the innumerable possible examples to support this hypothesis, I’ll discuss one, which is the question about the meaning of taboo and the possibilities of dealing with it.

Clearly, every taboo has its context and its rationale, which, however, often elude the outsider, who is not a member of the respective society and is not familiar with its codes. The social system can even go so far as to construct its authority on the basis of a particular taboo, which, however, after a while, will hardly be comprehensible for those who observe it. Every attempt to question a taboo that supports a system so effectively will then, inevitably, lead to conflict.

The taboo in itself, however, does not, represent simple suppression or concealment. It rather gives you a default interpretation or understanding of the way things happened. The difficulties in enforcing a taboo – and at the same time, the reason why the taboo can have an effect all the more strongly after it has been enforced – are connected with the necessity of the formation of a group. A taboo that exists for only one individual needs to be assessed differently, not only quantitatively but also qualitatively; an individual taboo is a different way of dealing with the world and worldly events. Where necessary, it can also be treated differently in a therapeutic context.
Bans on topics

Taboo as a socially effective behavioral code is about a ban. When the ban is executed, what has been banned remains present (albeit with shifts contributing essentially to intricacy and/or complexity). From this, three possible developments can arise. 1. The reason for the ban remains present, and thereby, divergences are intensified; 2. By and by, the original motivation takes a back seat, and the taboo turns into a myth (which is what, for instance, tales from the ancient world, the Bible, Shakespeare and the fairy tale collections of the Brothers Grimm are about), and 3. The society attends to the taboo and its origins in the framework of a process of coming to terms with the past, however that may be specified.

If one summarizes the fields of topics regarded as taboos, they are mostly about death and/or murder, sexuality and violence, age, bodily functions (primarily secretions), illnesses, and power structures (and/or status in power structures). Hence, physicality and systemic questions are fundamental. However, the consternation of the individual, often differently encoded, thwarts concise talk about it, simultaneously ensuring massive interest in the continuing application of the taboo.

It is not for nothing that even reputable news magazines run through all the taboo topics from A to Z. The cover has to sell. Especially in societies more or less considered part of ”Western culture,” this means, on the one hand, a paradox of the taboo, and on the other hand, the quite absurd talk of a ”society without taboos.” The paradox lies in the fact that taboo topics are brought up again and again, they sell quite wonderfully, they are capable of serving different fields of interest – and all the while nothing changes in the power of the effect of taboos; at best, the particular form of the current shift reinforces them.

At the same time, the idea of a society without taboos cannot be put into practice just like that, as it would circumvent well-practiced protective mechanisms, which means that a society would not be the same after abolishing taboos. This need not be per se bad at all, but taboos are more than simple imposed interpretations; they also protect the group and its individuals from procedures and incidents perceived as menacing – including being scrutinized, or having to scrutinize oneself.
Two kinds of taboos should be roughly distinguished. First, there are taboos related to the body, in which the taboo goes back in time for centuries, often millennia, almost in perpetuity. Second, there are taboos that are relevant to the immediate context of a particular social system. As a glance at the multitude of social changes that have affected history shows, the latter ones are of considerably more recent dates, and their stability is more limited. Thus, I cannot debate the incest taboo but I can help come to terms with a mass murder driven by ethnic motivation that took place a hundred or so years ago. It doesn’t matter if this was carried out using machetes or industrial means and logistics. It doesn’t matter how much a society constituted itself on the basis of it.

”The night has twelve hours, then the day comes. […] Times change; no violence can stop that”, Brecht wrote correctly. Insight into the transitory nature of things, however, is not enough (and a systemic theoretician would point out that in the case of social systems, there is the problem of system stability, which is quite relevant to the philosophy of emancipation). For do I want to know that my grandfather drove thousands of people into the gas chambers of a concentration camp? Do I want to know that my great-grandfather took part with his battalion in mass executions? Do I want to know that my brother is actually my sister’s child? Do I want to know that the family fortune comes from robbery? Do I want to know that the affluence of the surrounding society is founded on the most primitive colonialist violence? Do I want to know that I am as mortal as my victim, and I am not able to do anything about it (no matter how many hecatombs I am willing to offer up)?


The transgression, the frenzy

In one of the best known and influential tales of old, the first three of the Ten Commandments deal with the relation between God and man. Then follows the regulation of the relationship of an individual to his or her parents. Then come those commandments that are supposed to regulate the relations between people, in the sense of optimizing social behavior. The first commandment among these, which is most fundamental because of its position, is the one prohibiting killing someone else. Violence against the body, murder, is classified as the worst that one human can do to another. This is the civilization commandment. Here, a clear boundary is drawn.

In turn, from Sigmund Freud (Totem and Taboo regarding the individual-psychological approach, Moses and Monotheism regarding connections between society and religion) we know that in regard to crossing boundaries, a contiguity between sexuality and violence can be observed. Both are basically about the discharge of what has accumulated: the radical transgression of one’s own boundaries. We know of such negative collective discharges of energy, against the backdrop of ruthless transgression of commandments and boundaries, from numerous reports in the context of genocide or mass murder with ethnic motives (Nazi Germany, Rwanda, the Balkan Wars, et cetera). There, frenzied states of mind have been consistently reported time and again, and taking part in massacres is able to unleash complete dissolution of boundaries.

I am by no means for exculpation but rather for the observation of a specific pattern. As this book and the present introductory essay deal with the large scale killings of 1915, the conflicts between Armenians and Turks, one can imagine that especially Oriental societies at the beginning of the 20th century sought to hide violence and sexuality from public space and cover these topics with relevant taboos. If it’s true that there’s a synergy between violent power that can be exerted, and the radical transgression of the boundaries of oneself and others (thus, between mass murder and rape), then the events of 1915 constituted a discharge that broke two taboos. From this one could deduce that there would be an enormous effect: both from the double taboo before but also from the double breach at the moment. This again leads to the conclusion that a narrative that, so to speak, ”seals off” anything like that must be all the more important. Because, a conjecture of what happened there, is also encoded in the following generations’ act of taking up this narrative and calibrating their identities accordingly.

In such murderous mass behavior, we are thus dealing with extraordinary circumstances in any regard, also and especially in their effects. Of course, the transgressing of commandments and taboos, the new setting of taboos and commandments, also includes, as a last consequence, a possibility of application for the future.


The taboo has a system; the system has a taboo

To bring in system theory, if one proceeds from the point of view that there are systems and they are distinct from their environments, and that they relate internally with themselves, and that their stabilizing operations are interrelated, one can, by referring to Humberto Maturana, Francisco Varela and last but not least Niklas Luhmann, state that the autopoiesis (self-production) of psychic (and thus also social) systems means nothing less than their stability.

Through the fact that operations organically link up with each other, system-immanent reproduction is achieved. This ability is sustained as long as the ability to connect exists. When transferring this to the question of taboos in history, the conclusion suggests itself that from the point of view of a system, taboos have a stabilizing function, as they compel utilitarian actions. I am formulating this in due consideration of objections that I am boiling down system theory concepts to apply them to quotidian matters. In this respect, my line of reasoning will become accessible when I quote a sentence from Luhmann’s text Ecological Communication: ”A social system is achieved whenever an autopoietic communication nexus occurs and dissociates itself by restricting adequate communication from the environment. Social systems consist, therefore, not of human beings, nor of acts, but of communications.”

As I am borrowing these words, I asking the question anew: What if a taboo fulfills the function to a society of guaranteeing specific forms of power and their execution, of establishing an effective boundary against what is outside, thus strengthening internal solidarity? In such a way, the taboo becomes a symbolically generalized means of communication. The communicative operations obviously work in most cases and link with each other. However, counteracting these communicative operations by taking the taboo back to its source (as is the case when trying to eradicate it) becomes more and more difficult with each operation. In the course of time, the source becomes more and more difficult to comprehend, and the attempt to resume the debate might possibly strengthen the original system-stabilizing function, quite in opposition to the original intention – as the communication chain remains closed and the autopoiesis of the taboo continuously rears its ugly head.

As already indicated, this is not quite pleasant from the emancipatory-philosophical point of view. Because a real chance of coming to terms with a taboo and constructively eradicating it only arises when the system needing the taboo changes itself. (The questions of who changes, from what perspective, to what extent, and what implications need to be considered, will not be discussed here, as I’d like to keep within a narrow range of this topic.) From this, however, it could be deducted that there is a demand for uninterrupted observation and intervention based on it. But there is no guarantee for success.

Sometimes it takes a very long time to dissolve a taboo, as can be shown using a small example from media history that is rather important for this topic. A kind of ”therapy” is possible by means of (for example) sublimation; we see this in the case of writing. The introduction and implementation of writing helped replace incisions, the original sacrificial acts – which actually were blood sacrifices. If, then, a critical theory of writing (see Christoph Türcke’s relevant and quite lucid observations) suggests that such a process will still take a few thousand years, it becomes clear that the expectations regarding the dissolution of taboos within a time frame that can be perceived by an individual must be toned down.

Remembrance, memory and the future

Departing from the deliberations sketched above, the question should be asked to what extent there is a correlation between taboos and memories that support the group. Answering this question actually raises another question, which is not negligible for our current purposes, and which can be described as follows: to what degree are taboos or similar variants – and thus protection mechanisms for states of consciousness and states of need – obstacles for the future? If I suggest that we assume that in the context of a specific archaeology of the taboo, very precise pieces of information on societies (and the sensitivities of their social components) can be obtained, I’m not only talking about the bases of my analysis, but also about how the development and the process of the society to which the taboo is attributed can be imagined afterwards (This is not about deciding whether history represents a linear, circular or perpendicular progress of chains of events).

Let’s start by looking back. Let’s inquire about the trigger for the memory’s performances, and/or about what is capable of continuously supporting them. Let’s inquire, for example, if it’s taboo or pain that preserves an event better in the memory – and which one is more fundamental for memory as such. To try to answer this question, one could quote Nietzsche (On the Genealogy of Morality), who used pain as a primary recording device for a godlike, self-determined future: ”‘How does one create a memory for the man-animal? How does one imprint something on this partly dull, partly rambling momentary mind, this veritable forgetfulness, in such a way that it remains present?’ … This ancient problem has not been solved, as one might assume, by tender answers or means; perhaps nothing is more terrifying and eerier in the whole prehistory of man than his mnemonic technology. ”One burns something in so that it will remain in the memory: Only what does not stop hurting will remain in the memory’ – this is the fundamental law of the oldest (and sadly also longest-lasting) psychology on earth.”

What seems remarkable here is that Nietzsche refers to the long tradition of memory theories by making incisions, subjectivity, an inner writing, a starting point. In doing so, the well-versed classical philologist eludes the implications of ancient ”wax tablet treatises” (for which Freud will show interest shortly afterwards in view of the ”mystic writing pad” theory), to such an extent as he wants to illustrate the ”burning”, the conservation of the pain, and assigns it to the subject of permanence – he projects the pain toward the future. Even when considering current memory theories (up to Eric Kandel’s neurophysiological approaches) one can at least declare that stimuli such as pain do play an important role in memory work – however this may find expression.

Successfully implemented taboos certainly constitute forms of generalization, and are the lowest common denominator of societies and their narratives of history. Technically relevant for narrative, these meta-structures, collective memory markers, in turn, display functional similarity to the level of individual memory situations and memory triggers, despite and even because of the interconnections taking place. Here, sociopolitical relevance and political utility meet the necessities of the individual concerning the protection of oneself as a person and his/her needs.

In his beginnings of a social anthropology (Totem and Taboo: Resemblances Between the Mental Lives of Savages and Neurotics), Freud clearly stressed that an individual has no understanding outside such systems: ”The taboo prohibitions lack any kind of rationale, they are of unknown origin; incomprehensible for us, they seem comprehensible to those that live under their rules.” What if, however, most could live quite well under such a ”rule” – and the lifting of the taboo and of all certainties bound with it would at first only bring about massive problems?

A stigma is a scar or burn, similar to the mark of Cain. It triggers a precisely defined behavior, gives shape to actions and finally provides security. The taboo, i.e. the respective mechanism of precaution, derives from the knowledge of a reference system that has been installed. The conservation of the stigma may be painful but it has been enforced and is acknowledged. If I dissolve a taboo, if I suspend the effect of the stigma, I also need to provide for the implementation of a new view and behavioral rules adapted to it. What was burnt into memory and minds, in some cases over generations, is supposed to be eradicated, so new incisions will be needed. The closer the original taboo was to the power structures, the harder it will be to make these new incisions. From this, the question arises to what extent taboos can also have a positive effect – apart from the aspects of powers of implementation and control, which are easier to assess.

1915

This book addresses one of the great taboos of the 20th century. It repeatedly deals with events that have influenced very divergent renderings of history, and shows connections. In this, a variety of original documents from both sides is quoted, which are in some cases published for the first time. This was not a small task at all, and one needs to take it in without ruffle or excitement, especially if what I previously discussed concerning the frenzy of discharge is correct.

The political situation in the year 1915, exceedingly complex already at a first glance, should be outlined in a few short sentences. The German Empire had been working for a long time on its imperialistic ventures, especially in the Near and Middle East. In this region, at the same time, the specific positioning of Great Britain played an important role. The Ottoman Empire needed to work through very different issues related to power, both at home with the Young Turks and abroad with Russia. Added to this was the general situation of a true world war, which brought about an extremely high degree of brutalization in a historic moment between industrialization and first premonitions of modernity.

In 1915, was there genocide or not? And to what extent is the question – in different ways – a central element in the formation of the identities of Turks and Armenians? What narratives have been derived from it? One must not forget that here, quite generically and also necessarily, a correlation between taboo and the usefulness of conspiracy theories can be established – because beyond mass graves, the question is (first in the short, then in the medium and finally in the long run) one of claims of and machineries to power on the Turkish and Armenian sides. Societies at a turning point, of course, need their specifically effective narratives, whether they tell of defense, sacrifice, victory or extermination.

Taboos are by themselves an integrated component of power systems, especially those about which this book deals. For example, the role of the military in Turkey, too, needs to be regarded from this perspective, because the continuity of the military heroism narrative (in the environment of a founding myth, which the young Turkish state needed at the dawn of modernity) as a constituent of modern Turkey would not have worked as it has without the taboo of 1915. (In this context, it can be observed now that on the one hand, very careful steps toward a rapprochement between Turkey and Armenia are being attempted, while at the same time the influence of the military on the Turkish society and politics is being energetically pushed back.)

What about the foundation of Armenia? Labeling the mass murders as genocide is essential. And when taking a closer look, here too, one finds – as so often in the world – a form of sacrifice myth derived from the massacres, which, in its turn, makes it possible to set specific goals. This is not objectionable, although on this side it is about the foundation of the political system and ethnic terminology. It must be noted that these observations are not intended to equate victims and perpetrators. With all due reflection on whether this in turn may be a taboo or not: those murdered are the victims, the murderers are the perpetrators. This remains clear.

Fragile society – coming to terms with the past twice

Taboos (and often also the related conspiracy theories) are a meaningful factor, especially in fragilely structured societies. They can be used for making policies – and it might well be that this leads to decades of success, and even the strengthening of sufficient foundations for appeals for everything and anything. But despite all strenuous effort, the reasons for tabooing, and the speech bans and specific discourse shifts growing from it always arise anew – if sometimes in different shapes; they enter into the agenda, and at some point cannot be pushed away any longer.

Speaking abstractly, perhaps there is a possibility for a solution. Perhaps this is exactly the process that has been aimed at between Armenia and Turkey. One must at least coordinate the different views and acquire clarity. For, if one cannot leave the taboo zone, one will remain stuck in the alluvial sand of history. Thus the challenge now is to demarcate the area and to gather whatever flotsam has accumulated and examine it.

Historical processes sometimes offer lessons that are quite bitter and even ironic. One example would be the observation of those processes arising in the course of clarifying a taboo, perhaps even in the course of a constructive de-tabooing driven by both sides. It can often be observed that especially fragile social and political systems need to experience a basic strengthening, a consolidation, in order to be able to take care of both the taboo itself and of their own former fragility, or at least to overcome it, having come to terms with it rudimentarily.

Finally it remains to concede that we, Austrians, are not in a position to give instructions. We should know what happened when the events between 1938 and 1945 (and perhaps even going back as far as to 1934) were repressed (or at least evaluated very differently). History, set aside for such a long time, caught up with us inevitably and with full force. It is not by coincidence that this became only possible in the stabilized society of the 1980s; it was obviously not possible or enforceable in the fragile society immediately after 1945. The debates around Kurt Waldheim in the 1980s and later contained two major issues: One was about the relations of perpetrators and victims; the intense participation of Austrians in mass murder with industrial means; about followers; and, time and again, about individual guilt, about individual contributions to a murderous system. Another theme was about questioning the years and decades after 1945; an insufficient coming to terms; a poor post-war judicial system; about ”brown spots” and the continued efforts to simply whitewash them. Therefore, the debates were also essentially about how a society came to terms with its heritage, how the society dealt with its history and its own foundation of legitimization. It might not be incorrect to say that the extreme right came out of these conflicts strengthened, which, in itself, can be declared as a failure of the political levels; It was, however, also a rudimentary failure of society, of its democratic institutions – and that shows very graphically that it is necessary to deal with taboos even if this can require quite a long process and much work, effort and patience, as well as a certain resistance to pain. So, the past and the present are dealt with, as well as, possibly, what came out of the past and enabled the present. Pre-stabilization and stabilization.

There are indeed many differences between the question of 1915 and the holocaust between 1938 and 1945. But there is room to benefit from the recent Austrian experience, more specifically the time after 1988, when the former Austrian chancellor Franz Vranitzky addressed in front of the Austrian parliament the ardent and sometimes painful question of Austria’s history between 1938 and ’45.

Coming to terms with the past is never a process of settlement, but it can be quite an act of liberation. In order to get there, one will not be able to avoid pain. In other words, there is no painless liberation from taboos and their history.