Topics: Culture
01.02.2004
The World and Libraries after 11 September
The 21st Century and the third millennium began for the world at 8:45 a.m. New
York time, on September 11, 2001, just as the 20th Century (as it is etched in
human memory, rather than marked in the calendar) was launched by the loss of
the Titanic and the horrors of the First World War.
The 21st Century and the third millennium began for the world at 8:45 a.m. New
York time, on 11 September 2001, just as the 20th Century (as it is etched in
human memory, rather than marked in the calendar) was launched by the loss of
the Titanic and the horrors of the First World War.
Nine-eleven dashed the illusion of a happy end to the phase of world
civilisation that was launched by the bloodless collapse of the Berlin Wall and
the demise of the Soviet empire, when an age
“beyond” Capitalism and Communism seemed about to dawn.
At that moment on 11 September 2001, now a historical benchmark, the world
looked straight into the face of a new threat: the world
’s dateline was telescoped to the flight time between Boston and New York. Within
that short spell of time, the Western social order, its values, its market
economy, and its world-wide political system, were suddenly no longer seen as a
prevailing pattern of world civilisation to be adopted, sooner or later, by
other countries and systems.
Everyone will agree that the 20th Century, a hundred years that included two
world wars, Hiroshima, the Soviet Gulag and Chernobyl, Kosovo, and Chechnya,
was the most tragic period of human history. So why, you may ask, did the local
tragedy in New York on September 11 give such a severe shock to a world long
accustomed to horrors of all kinds? It was the first time that the threat of
destruction loomed over the emerging, indeed barely nascent, idea of a global
order.
The global dimension implies that, without necessarily realising it, we have
lived for a long time in a community in which closed borders exist only as a
fiction. No one country or group of countries can fence itself off from the
rest of the world. Different economic, cultural, and political forces are
interacting with one another. A world community implies shared social
relations. The question now is how real is it? Could it be simply virtual
reality claiming to be the real thing?
The world community has another side to it, namely how and where different
nations and cultures see themselves in the tangle of their diverse features.
The
“world” in the phrase “world community” actually implies “differences in diversity” and “community” stands for “diversity in disunity”. Globalisation involves processes whereby nation-states are enmeshed in a web
of transnational scenarios and operate in accordance with their rules.
Globalisation is a reality of the modern world, in which all forces gravitate
towards unity and tend to merge. What are the factors contributing to this?
– First, contacts are expanding geographically and multiplying in all areas – the economy, the arts, sciences, and culture;
– Second, a revolution in information technologies and communications is becoming
a permanent feature that is gathering momentum and altering many of society
’s basic institutions, such as education and politics;
– Third, society is demanding respect for human rights across the world;
– Fourth, poverty remains a global problem, with the Third World falling far
behind the developed nations;
– Fifth, environmental degradation is a global problem;
– Sixth, conflicts between cultures threaten an impending global crisis.
Globalisation means that whatever happens anywhere on our planet today is, since
nine-eleven, no longer a localized event. All inventions, triumphs, failures,
peacekeeping missions and wars are projected across the world, and our
behaviour, our organisations and our institutions have to be aligned along the
local-global axis.
Globalisation sceptics could sneer, “What’s new here?” Such scepticism is misplaced. Surely it is a new development that our everyday
activities have stepped out of the nation-state framework and evolved in a
thick skein of interdependences and reciprocities, or that people are no longer
tied to any particular place on earth?
Opponents of globalisation might insist, “This represents a threat”. By this logic, globalisation would eventually compel all countries and systems
to line up to jump on the Western bandwagon. Cultures and civilisations that
stood by the wayside would decline and vanish like extinct historical species.
According to this logic, the future of humanity is degenerating from an
intensive search for self-identity into a mechanical process which forces
nations, tribes and cultures through a blender to emerge eventually as a
uniform mass.
If it is all systems go in the world after nine-eleven, globalisation is bound
to engender violent anti-Western extremism, a powerful driver of political
tensions that threatens to leave no hope of nations ever living in tolerance
with one another. Put simply, there will be no room left for mutual
understanding and compassion.
This logic, too, has its own rationale. Indeed, long before nine-eleven, the
Russo-US sociologist Pitirim Sorokin pronounced a similar verdict on Western
civilisation, describing it as a
“cancerous tumour”.
The face-off between globalists and anti-globalists is, at core, a clash between
two world views and types of social organization, between established values
and something covert and as yet unclear, like a vague shadow of the real world,
a virtual Internet reality manipulated by a virtual government unburdened by
commitments to national governments. This new world frightens anti-globalists
as they visualise a virtual world that breeds authoritarian and totalitarian
attitudes and spreads them across the new world of IT like a plague or wind.
This applies, above all, to IT mafias, international terrorism, and neo-fascist
nationalist groups whose emergence is evident in many countries across the
world.
We will not find any historical parallels that resemble, even remotely, what
happened on nine-eleven. This is not a war between civilisations; for different
civilisations, such as Christianity and Islam, have lived side by side without
fighting wars to the death. Nor is it a war waged by the poor against the rich:
the poor concentrate on survival, how to earn their daily bread and protect
their rights. They do not seek to destroy buildings, like the twin towers in
New York that crumbled into dust burying thousands of innocent people.
What lessons has the world taken from nine-eleven? They are numerous and varied.
The US saw it as evidence of inadequate resolve. It gave them yet another
reason to claim in practice, as well as in theory, the dominant role vis-а-vis
the world community which it could corral into the
“fight against global evil”. Europe saw a different interpretation: the world today lives in roughly the
same environment but the future looms over the horizon in vague, hazy and
disquieting outline.
What view has Russia adopted? The fact that Russia is reassembling itself from
disarray into a modern state in a new, global environment has certain
philosophical implications. It is entering a globalised world almost
unencumbered by the past, which it has broken away from or discarded on the
way. In the last century it suffered two breakdowns: the lifestyles of whole
classes, folk skills, traditions and culture were twice mercilessly uprooted or
crushed. In 1917 it was convulsed by the Revolution, and in the closing years
of the 20th Century everything seemed to have been destroyed and scattered
around the world. No country would want to go through what Russia endured; and
no other country really has. The experience we have gained the hard way gives
us an open-ended perspective in designing a new domestic framework in line with
the new global trends.
In Russia’s present context there is no sense in putting globalisation on hold or turning
our backs on it. We cannot say like a magic incantation:
“this is not for us, we have a different destiny to follow”. History is impatiently knocking at the door. Unless we unbolt the door and let
it in, it will break in through the window at the risk of fracturing its limbs
Russian-style. Back in the early 19th Century, a man deemed a holy fool, the
poet and philosopher Chaadaev penned theses about global solidarity amongst
human beings. He wrote about a citizen of the world and a system of new ethical
principles that he was trying to make a reality
– a world without geographical borders.
Having considered different viewpoints, we have to admit that, seen within a
world co-ordinate system, nine-eleven is an
“axis” point in history. The German philosopher Karl Jaspers looked back to a time in
the remote past when assorted tribal beliefs were fused to become single world
religions
– like the ideas of Christianity and Buddhism or the teachings of Confucius. In
the same way, the revolution that occurred in people
’s minds was a response to the challenges of their time. It made humans what they
are today
– and inspired a new morality. Whether we like it or not, globalisation brings a
new ethics in its wake. It could well be called absolute morality, one that
would be accepted by all. Feodor Dostoyevsky had a different name for much the
same ethics
– “worldwide responsiveness”. Unless we learn to practise “worldwide responsiveness” in our everyday life, including in politics, we will not escape yet another
worldwide slaughter.
***
Where do libraries fit into these developments? Do public, university or local
libraries have a mission to fulfill in this process or will globalisation
proceed without them?
Unlike many other social institutions that were not confronted by the choice of
self-identification until 11 September, libraries everywhere, including in this
part of the world, have some experience of dealing with new realities, being
intrinsically symbols of
“worldwide responsiveness”.
Do libraries, the undying phoenixes, have a puzzle for us to unravel?
The banal answer is that, if libraries are to find a niche in the global IT
environment, they have to hitch their future to high technologies including the
Internet in order to provide access to information. An unorthodox answer is
that libraries are wedded to the Word and have a complete understanding of its
weaknesses and its strengths. The Word is weak because it does not have the
same meaning for each and everyone and because it is fragile it must be handled
with great care.
“Nine-eleven” refers to a Word that threatens to become terroristic, aggressive, dogmatic and
totalitarian. A diseased language can infect society, so that concepts are
empty and words cease to inspire; they obscure rather than elucidate. When
words become stale, as they did under the Soviet regime, the world sinks into
apathy, a forerunner of stagnation.
The Word can also be strong. It is universal and has a rallying, emotional, and
intellectual power to bring people together and give them a common language.
With the Word as their stock in trade for centuries, libraries have watched the
vagaries the Word has undergone. First it was cherished, and then locked up in
classified book depositories. Finally it has been allowed liberties beyond all
reason being supported and disseminated in every format
– hand-written, printed or electronic.
In the final quarter of the last century the Word worked harder than ever, all
in relation to democratic ideas and globalisation, which libraries picked up
and embraced quite some time before other social institutions. The idea of
freedom of information and free access, which is basic to the operation of
libraries, has a direct bearing on globalisation. In many countries it is
principally through libraries that the Internet, and the expanding world-wide
web are promoted and made available to the general public.
Globalisation has an impact on other areas of library services and operations as
well, such as providing interactive services, e-mailing documents, and setting
up information web sites, portals, and electronic libraries, which are a
must-have asset for any library professing to be a modern information
institution.
Libraries cannot develop unless they communicate with their peers within the
framework of international global societies and associations, such as the
International Federation of Library Associations (IFLA), various vertical and
horizontal corporations, collective library and bibliographic services, and
catalogue record centres exchanging information resources transnationally.
Library standards, too, have a significant role to play in the globalisation
context. Of all professional communities, libraries are probably the most
advanced in standardizing information gathering and collecting tools. Realizing
the need for standards in communicating across national boundaries is
self-evident to an intelligent librarian. In short, libraries as social
institutions are closely involved in globalisation processes and are actually
at the cutting edge of globalisation.
Standards may differ greatly, though. Not every standard will be an accepted
norm, if it is imposed against the users
’ will and goes against existing patterns of mental habits. People will continue
to speak different national languages, as they have done throughout history. It
will not work if we are left with just one language to the exclusion of every
other tongue. A language will not comply with the logic of the Mint; it is not
like a euro or a dollar that can be struck or printed in bulk to be passed
around to all. It cannot be made to order. It has been sent to humans by divine
will as a measure of their tolerance. We do not have to understand other people
speaking (thank Heaven we have translators and interpreters for that), but we
certainly must hear the sacred message of every language and acknowledge its
right to be heard around the world.
The collapsing Tower of Babel was, in modern parlance, a systemic symbol of the
nine-eleven tragedy. An exaggeration, perhaps, but it clearly gives a meaning
to the symbolism of collapsing towers.
Why did the Tower of Babel collapse? In the first place, because instead of
turning it into a symbol of world unity, people made a fetish of their own
arrogance and vanity. Not dissimilarly, the New York high-rises too, were seen
by many as symbols of a superpower
’s arrogance. Even if not a precise parallel, this simile carries a grain of
tragic truth. Americans will build more high-rises, we may be certain of that.
My point is, though, how many more towers will have to come down around the
world before nations learn to build, not to destroy? This is the chief lesson
of nine-eleven to be assimilated by, among others, us as librarians, who seem
so far removed from politics.