Why Epicurean ideas suit the challenges of modern secular life-By Temma Emmerfield

Nowadays, educated English-speaking urbanites might call you an epicure if you complain to a waiter about over-salted soup, and stoical if you don’t. In the popular mind, an epicure fine-tunes pleasure, consuming beautifully, while a stoic lives a life of virtue, pleasure sublimated for good. But this doesn’t do justice to Epicurus, who came closest of all the ancient philosophers to understanding the challenges of modern secular life.

Epicureanism competed with Stoicism to dominate Greek and Roman culture. Born in 341 BCE, only six years after Plato’s death, Epicurus came of age at a good time to achieve influence. He was 18 when Alexander the Great died at the tail end of classical Greece – identified through its collection of independent city-states – and the emergence of the dynastic rule that spread across the Persian Empire. Zeno, who founded Stoicism in Cyprus and later taught it in Athens, lived during the same period. Later, the Roman Stoic Seneca both critiqued Epicurus and quoted him favourably.

Today, these two great contesting philosophies of ancient times have been reduced to attitudes about comfort and pleasure – will you send back the soup or not? That very misunderstanding tells me that Epicurean ideas won, hands down, though bowdlerised, without the full logic of the philosophy. Epicureans were concerned with how people felt. The Stoics focused on a hierarchy of value. If the Stoics had won, stoical would now mean noble and an epicure would be trivial.

Epicureans did focus on seeking pleasure – but they did so much more. They talked as much about reducing pain – and even more about being rational. They were interested in intelligent living, an idea that has evolved in our day to mean knowledgeable consumption. But equating knowing what will make you happiest with knowing the best wine means Epicurus is misunderstood.

The rationality he wedded to democracy relied on science. We now know Epicurus mainly through a poem, De rerum natura, or ‘On the Nature of Things’, a 7,400 line exposition by the Roman philosopher Lucretius, who lived c250 years after Epicurus. The poem was circulated only among a small number of people of letters until it was said to be rediscovered in the 15th century, when it radically challenged Christianity.

Its principles read as astonishingly modern, down to the physics. In six books, Lucretius states that everything is made of invisible particles, space and time are infinite, nature is an endless experiment, human society began as a battle to survive, there is no afterlife, religions are cruel delusions, and the universe has no clear purpose. The world is material – with a smidgen of free will. How should we live? Rationally, by dropping illusion. False ideas largely make us unhappy. If we minimise the pain they cause, we maximise our pleasure.

Secular moderns are so Epicurean that we might not hear this thunderclap. He didn’t stress perfectionism or fine discriminations in pleasure – sending back the soup. He understood what the Buddhists call samsara, the suffering of endless craving. Pleasures are poisoned when we require that they do not end. So, for example, it is natural to enjoy sex, but sex will make you unhappy if you hope to possess your lover for all time.

Epicurus also seems uncannily modern in his attitude to parenting. Children are likely to bring at least as much pain as pleasure, he noted, so you might want to skip it. Modern couples who choose to be ‘child-free’ fit within the largely Epicurean culture we have today. Does it make sense to tell people to pursue their happiness and then expect them to take on decades of responsibility for other humans? Well, maybe, if you seek meaning. Our idea of meaning is something like the virtue embraced by the Stoics, who claimed it would bring you happiness.

Both the Stoics and the Epicureans understood that some good things are better than others. Thus you necessarily run into choices, and the need to forgo one good to protect or gain another. When you make those choices wisely, you’ll be happier. But the Stoics think you’ll be acting in line with a grand plan by a just grand designer, and the Epicureans don’t.

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Ilhan responding to racism

On Thursday, July 18, 2019, 2:29 PM, Ilhan <info@ilhanomar.com> wrote:

You may shoot me with your words,

You may cut me with your eyes,

You may kill me with your hatefulness,

But still, like air, I’ll rise. -Maya Angelou

Last night Donald Trump’s racism and xenophobia was on full display at a campaign rally in North Carolina. His lies and hateful remarks were fueled by white nationalism and bigotry, but coming from a man who ran a campaign for president based on vitriol, we shouldn’t be shocked by his latest display of hatred.

Donald Trump is lashing out at me to serve as a distraction and to rile up his base in an attempt to move the focus away from how his administration is failing our economy and our country.

I will not allow Trump to distract me and I don’t want him to distract you either. I am going to keep fighting each and every day for progressive policies and legislation that will benefit the American people and create a brighter future for everyone. We are building an inclusive movement that is centered on racial, social, economic, and environmental justice for all.

Today I voted ‘yes’ on a bill that passed the House to raise the minimum wage to $15/hour; because every worker should earn a living wage in our country. I recently introduced a bill with Senator Bernie Sanders and Congresswoman Pramila Jayapal to eliminate the $1.6 trillion student debt that is shackling 45 million Americans.

I am fighting for Medicare for All so that we finally recognize health care as a human right, not a privilege for the few. And I am calling attention to the human rights crisis on our southern border, working to hold CBP and ICE accountable for their actions.

Those who want to halt our progress are doing everything they can to ban me from Congress; but I am exactly where I belong. I am in the people’s house and those who want me gone will just have to deal with it.

I am able to keep fighting for the issues that impact the American people because of your support. Together we are building a movement and a campaign that is focused on improving the lives of Americans across our country.

shared by Nasik and posted by f.sheikh

The Other 1492-Muslim Spain-By Greg Noakes

( Shared by Dr. Ehtisham)

NOTE:  Indeed, both 1492’s are closely tied together.  The plundering of Al-Andalus enabled financing of Columbus’ messianic mission–to go East and capture Medina and then ransom the grave of Prophet Mohammed for recovering Jerusalem.  As luck would have it, accidentally he ‘discovered’ America (except he never knew it!).  He won’t go via the land-route because of the fear of Ottomans.

http://www.islamicspain.tv/Islamic-Spain/the_other_1492.htm
The Other 1492

Praise be to God, who ordered that he who speaks with pride of Al-Andalus may do so without fear and as boldly as he pleases, nor meet any that may contradict him …
Al-Shaqundi, “Of the Excellence of Al-Andalus”

Written by Greg Noakes

Image result for iberian peninsula mapRelated image


The year 1492 has long been a historical touchstone. Europeans and Americans recently marked the 500th anniversary of Christopher Columbus’s “discovery” of the New World, not without protests from those who felt that the hemisphere’s gains from the event were far outweighed by its losses. Spain was a focus of attention in the quincentennial year, in part because it was Columbus’s point of departure, and as host of the universal exposition EXPO ’92 in Seville and the summer Olympic Games in Barcelona.

There was another 500th anniversary to be marked in 1992, however, and it too involved Spain. While this event has also had important repercussions in world history, and remains the source of a lingering sense of loss, it has attracted much less attention. The event was the fall of the Muslim city of Granada (Gharna-tah in Arabic), on the second day of 1492, to the forces of the Catholic kings of Castile, ending nearly eight centuries of Muslim rule in the Iberian Peninsula and closing one of the most turbulent and glorious chapters in Islamic history.

As some historical accounts have it, Muslim armies first arrived in the peninsula in AD 711 at the request of one side of a civil war raging in Visigothic Spain. Muslim rule was accepted voluntarily by many Spaniards, and numbers of them accepted Islam. In 732, just 100 years after the death of the Prophet, Muslim troops crossed the Pyrenees to make their deepest advance into western Europe; they were checked at Poitiers in a battle that has rung down the centuries in Western legend, but which Muslim chroniclers record, if at all, as a minor skirmish. The Muslims soon withdrew again and set about establishing Islam in Spain, in the territories they called Al-Andalus. The society they developed was perhaps uniquely tolerant and heterogeneous, with Arab and Amazigh (Berber) immigrants living side-by-side with Spanish Muslims, Christians and Jews. Intermarriage was fairly common.

Al-Andalus was ruled by the Umayyad caliphs in Damascus until 750, when the Abbasid dynasty came to power in the East. One Umayyad prince alone, Abd al-Rahman ibn Mu’awiyah, escaped and fled to Spain; there he established an independent Umayyad state in 756. The Andalusian rulers, sovereign politically, continued to regard the Abbasid caliphs as the ultimate religious authority for almost 200 years, but the eighth ruler of the dynasty, ‘Abd al-Rahman III al-Nasir, claimed the caliphal title for himself and his progeny in 929. The Andalusian Umayyad caliphate was the golden age of Al-Andalus in terms of political power. The southern two-thirds of the Iberian peninsula were united under the caliph in Córdoba (in Arabic, Qurtubah), and he was also an important player in North African affairs. It was the Umayyads who, through skill, cleverness and occasional ruthlessness, laid the foundation for the splendor of Al-Andalus.

Between 1009 and 1031, however, a series of uprisings and a succession of weak rulers together led to the dissolution of the Umayyad state. Filling the vacuum, more than a score of independent petty monarchs emerged, called “party kings” or in Arabic mulukal-tawa’if, from the word ta’ifah (Spanish taifa), meaning party or faction. Though these rival kingdoms – some no more than city-stateswere much weaker than the unitary Umayyad caliphate, the taifa period witnessed a flourishing of arts and learning as each ruler attempted to outdo the others in the prestige of his court. As David Wasserstein points out in The Rise and Fall of the Party Kings, the profusion of rulers also meant a profusion of patrons, so artists, scholars and scientists could find a sponsor, or even competing sponsors, with relative ease.

Nevertheless, weakened by chronic infighting, treacherous double-dealing and internal decadence, the taifa kings gave up considerable territory to the Christian kingdoms that were reasserting themselves in the north of the peninsula. By 1085 the Castilians had taken the crucial city of Toledo, and the petty kings asked the new Almoravid ruler in Morocco, Yusuf ibn Tashufin, to intervene. The Almoravids (in Arabic, al-Murabitun, “The Garrisoned Ones”) were a puritanical dynasty that had arisen among the Amazighs (Berbers) of far southern Morocco, and for a time they were content to assist the taifa kings militarily – but in 1090 Yusuf decided that his erstwhile hosts had to go, and the petty kings were swept aside. The Almoravids at first imposed their puritanism and rigid religious orthodoxy, visible even in their art, on Spain, but in the end, though their faith remained pure, they themselves succumbed to the luxury and ease of Al-Andalus.

The Almoravids’ faltering strength provided the Christian kingdoms with opportunities for reconquest, and by 1145 Almoravid Spain was reeling. The Muslim population rose in revolt and a new group of taifa monarchs asked the Almohads (in Arabic, al-Muwahhidun, “Those Who Profess God’s Unity”) – another puritanical movement from southern Morocco, which supplanted the Almoravids in North Africa – to intervene. The Almohads willingly obliged, and for a time the new North African rulers enjoyed some success in Spain. But the tide turned in favor of the Christians in 1212 at the Battle of al-‘Iqab, called in Spanish Las Navas de Tolosa, and within decades the Almohads had retreated back across the Strait of Gibraltar. Muslim cities fell one after another until 1260, when only the kingdom of Granada remained.

Precariously balanced between hostile Christian powers to the north and rival Muslim rulers in Morocco to the south, Granada survived for almost two centuries more. Although they gradually ceded territory to the Spanish Christian forces, the Nasrid rulers of Granada, afraid of being swallowed by their rescuers, refused to turn to the Moroccans for assistance. Isolated politically, the Granadines lived on, on borrowed time.

Yet, architectural historian John Brooks notes, “despite the general winding down of the organized political and military state during the last period of Muslim rule in Spain, this strikingly rich and original culture was still evolving.” Indeed, many of the most lavish and famous examples of Andalusian art and architecture date from this period (See Aramco World, September-October 1992). Within its slowly shrinking enclave, Granada flourished magnificently, both artistically and culturally, until the end of the 15th century, when Catholic Spain overcame political division and the effects of the Black Death and the final stage of the reconquista began in earnest.

By the end of 1491 the armies of Ferdinand and Isabella were at the gates of Granada itself. There remained only one final act to be played out, a knell whose sorrow was to reverberate across the Muslim world and become legend. Granada’s ruler, [Muhammad XII Abu ‘Abd Allah, known in the West las Boabdil, secretly agreed to hand over the city to {the Christians in return for his safe passage out of Spain. As he left the city, Boabdil paused to look [back at the Alhambra palace, the Generalife gardens and the rest of Granada. Stanley Lane-Poole relates Boabdil’s reaction in his classic 1887 work The Muslims in Spain:

“Allahu akbar!” he said, “God is most great,” as he burst into tears. His mother Ayesha stood beside him: “You may well weep like a woman,” she said, “for what you could not defend like a man.” The spot whence Boabdil took his sad farewell look at his city from which he was banished for ever, bears to this day the name of el ultimo sospiro del Moro, “the last sigh of the Moor.”

Thus, on January 2, 1492, Muslim political sovereignty in Spain came to an end.

Muslims and people of Muslim origin had lived relatively unmolested in Christian areas before the fall of Granada and continued to do so immediately after; the city’s inhabitants received generous terms of submission and a large degree of religious freedom. In 1499, however, the Catholic monarchs’ guarantees were broken, and forced conversion of the Muslims was introduced. The Muslim population rebelled, but the revolt was quickly suppressed. In 1500 Spanish Muslims were presented with a stark choice: Convert to Catholicism or be expelled from Spain. While some Muslims did convert, others continued to practice their faith in secret, and the rest chose exile, principally across the Mediterranean in North Africa.

Although Muslim rule in Spain had ended, the rich cultural and intellectual legacy of Al-Andalus survived, both in the Iberian Peninsula and throughout the world. Elements of the Islamic heritage can be found throughout Spain, and in recent years modern Spain has become more aware, and more proud, of the glories of this period of its history. Many place names, such as those of the port city of Algeciras (from al-Jazirah al-Khadra’, green island), the Guadalquivir River (from al-Wadi al-Kabir, great river), and the southern region of Andalusia itself, all come from the Arabic used in Al-Andalus. The Spanish language itself has been greatly influenced by Arabic, particularly in terms of vocabulary, and many terms of Arabic origin passed on from Spanish into English in the New World.

Some of Spain’s most famous architectural monuments, including Córdoba’s Great Mosque, Seville’s Giralda and Granada’s Alhambra, date from the Muslim period; architecture in southern Spain and Latin America borrows a great deal from Muslim builders, both in terms of materials used -tile, stucco – and design elements like central courtyards, abstract ornamentation, and creative use of water and fountains. The artisans and craftsmen of Spain after the reconquista remained largely Muslim, and they often received commissions from Spanish nobility; their work can easily be seen today throughout Andalusia – in the royal residence of Seville, the Alcázar (from the Arabic al-Qasr, meaning the palace), for example.

The instruments, rhythmic patterns, vocal conventions and overall structure and organization of Andalusian music, derived directly from Arab precursors, have also had their effect on Spanish – and, by extension, Latin American – music. In some cases even the Andalusian melodies have been passed down intact.

The works of many of the most prominent thinkers and practitioners of Al-Andalus, along with writings from the eastern Muslim world, were translated from Arabic into Latin by Spaniards (See Aramco World, May-June 1992). Through these translations, philosophical and scientific thought from the Greek and Roman worlds, preserved and expanded upon by Muslim scholars, passed into European consciousness to fuel both the Renaissance and the Age of Enlightenment.

Nevertheless, it was back in the Arab and Muslim worlds that Andalusian culture and society had their greatest impact, even before 1492. Many important contributors in Islamic intellectual history came from or worked in Islamic Spain: No account of the development of philosophy in Islam is complete without a discussion of Ibn Tufayl, who died in 1185, and of his pupil Ibn Rushd, who was born in Córdoba, became chief qadi, or judge, of Seville, and died in 1198. Ibn Rushd, known in the West as Averroes, made his most important contributions in his commentary on Aristotle, his refutation of al-Ghazali’s critique of philosophy, and his examination of the relationship between reason and religion. Much of Ibn Rushd’s thought prefigured the work of Thomas Aquinas.

In medicine, Al-Andalus produced scholars like al-Zahrawi (died ca. 1013), who wrote extensively on surgery, pharmacology, medical ethics and the doctor-patient relationship. Ibn Zuhr (known in the West as Avenzoar), a century and a half later was an advocate of clinical research and practical experimentation.

In literature, Ibn Hazm (died 1064) expanded traditional romantic poetry with his “Tawq al-Hamamah” (“Dove’s Necklace”), which expounds on the various forms of chivalric love and the joys and sorrows it produces. The courtly muwashshah form of poetry passed from Al-Andalus into North Africa, and influenced the development of both literature and music in the Maghrib. The classical music of North Africa, which remains popular, is still known as “Andalusi music.”

The most immediate effects of the events of 1492 to 1500 were felt in the great cities of North Africa, where most of the Andalusian refugees fled after their expulsion. Residents of each Spanish city tended to migrate to a particular Maghribi city, so that many exiles from Valencia ended up in Tunis, those from Córdoba in Tlemcen, refugees from Seville in Fez, and so on. Andalusian scholars, merchants and artisans in many ways revitalized North African society, enriching Maghribi culture and adding a fresh influence to the existing Arabo-Amazigh (Berber) traditions. This influence continued for some 200 years, until the Andalusian heritage had been completely integrated into North African life. Nonetheless, many present-day Moroccans, Algerians and Tunisians can still trace their lineage back to a specific city of Al-Andalus (See Aramco World, July-August 1991).

Its intellectual, cultural and esthetic contributions aside, however, Al-Andalus left a bittersweet emotional legacy to the Arab and Muslim worlds. Though the sense of loss is most pronounced in descendants of the Andalusian exiles, the memory of Al-Andalus retains its emotive power throughout the Islamic world

The 20th-century Iraqi writer Daisy Al Amir, for example, takes contemporary England as the setting for her allegorical story “An Andalusian Tale,” about an Arab student who meets “a Spaniard who recognized his Arab ancestry” and is proud of his Andalusian heritage. Tunisian film director Nacer Khemir borrows his title and his melancholy subject matter from Ibn Hazm in the 1990 film Le colier perdu du colombe (The Dove’s Lost Necklace). Khemir’s fanciful costumes, dream-like architecture, shimmering colors and stunning cinematography give life to the esthetic ideal of Al-Andalus (See Aramco World, January-February 1992).

In the Islamic world today, Islamic Spain is invoked on two levels. First there is the memory of the land itself: the flowing rivers and green fields of southern Spain, the magnificent mosques and palaces, the flourishing culture. This is the land that Andalusian exiles refer to still as al-firdaws al-mafijud – paradise lost – and whose passing the Valencian exile Ibn Amira mourned in his Epistola a un amic:

An ocean of sadness raged inside us,
Our hearts, desperate, burn witheternal flame…
The city was so beautiful with itsgarden and rivers,
The night were imbued with the sweet fragrance of narcissus.

Al-Andalus is remembered on another level as the one area that was once – but is no longer – part of the Muslim world. Until the middle of this century, Muslims have withstood Mongols, Crusaders, empire-builders and settlers and still emerged with their Islamic identity intact – except in Spain. Even the Communist regimes of present-day China and the former Soviet Union failed to root out Islam, failed to deracinate their Muslim populations, despite vast expenditures of time, of treasure and of blood in attempts to build “the new socialist man” (See Aramco World, January-February 1990). The fact that the rest of the Muslim world has retained its religious identity over some fourteen centuries rife with political, social, cultural and technological change makes the exception of Spain that much more painful to Muslims.

It is nonetheless a pain that lies well beneath the surface. Contemporary Muslims are less likely to think of Spain as a historic enemy, or still less a territory to be reclaimed, than as an important trading partner, a fellow member of the family of nations, and – especially for North Africans – a, and – especially for North Africans – a source of expatriate employment. Muslim countries maintain cordial relations with Madrid and a number of them opened pavilions at EXPO ’92 in Seville and sent teams to Barcelona.

And though, over the years, lost Islamic Spain has been much idealized in the Islamic world, there remains an appreciation of the factors behind its downfall. Some of these were external, such as the unification and expansion of the Christian kingdoms of Spain and the geographic and political isolation of Al-Andalus from the rest of the Muslim world. There were also internal factors that contributed to the decline of Al-Andalus, particularly the rivalries that weakened and divided Islamic Spain, the greed and self-indulgence that gripped its elites, and the loss of a unifying religious vision.

On the other hand, Islamic Spain was an immensely fertile ground for learning, producing a long series of intellectual, esthetic and scientific advances attributable to Muslim, Christian and Jewish thinkers and the atmosphere they created. This blossoming was due in part to the spirit of tolerance that prevailed for much, though not all, of the history of Al-Andalus – a tolerance extended not only just to other religious groups but operative within Muslim society as well.

Despite the passage of 500 years, Al-Andalus continues to cast its spell. As the birthplace of some of the world’s outstanding scholars and artisans, home of dazzling architectural masterpieces, and setting of a brilliant society notable for both the height of its achievements and the depths of its decadence, Al-Andalus retains its emotional impact and its privileged place in Muslim historical memory.

Greg Noakes, an American Muslim, is news editor of The Washington Report on Middle East Affairs and writes frequently on Islamic issues and North African matters.

This article appeared on pages 2-9 of the January/February 1993 print edition of Saudi Aramco World.

Defense spending is America’s cancerous bipartisan consensus-By Fareed Zakria

You often hear that in these polarized times, Republicans and Democrats are deadlocked on almost everything. But the real scandal is what both sides agree on. The best example of this might be the defense budget. Last week, the Democratic House, which Republicans say is filled with radicals, voted to appropriate $733 billion for 2020 defense spending. The Republicans are outraged because they — along with President Trump — want that number to be $750 billion. In other words, on the largest item of discretionary spending in the federal budget, accounting for more than half of the total, Democrats and Republicans are divided by 2.3 percent. That is the cancerous consensus in Washington today.

The United States’ defense budget is out of control, lacking strategic coherence, utterly mismanaged, ruinously wasteful and yet eternally expanding. Last year, after a quarter-century of resisting, the Pentagon finally subjected itself to an audit — which, in true Pentagon style, cost more than $400 million. Most of its agencies — Army, Navy, Air Force, Marine Corps — failed. “We never expected to pass,” admitted then- Deputy Defense Secretary Patrick Shanahan.

The Special Inspector General for Afghanistan Reconstruction has identified $15.5 billion of waste. But that is after reviewing only $53 billion of the $126 billion appropriated for Afghanistan reconstruction through 2017. He wrote in a 2018 letter, “[We] have likely uncovered only a portion of the total waste, fraud, abuse, and failed efforts.”

Outside war zones, there are the usual examples of $14,000 toilet-seat lids, $1,280 cups (yes, cups) and $4.6 million for crab and lobster meals. Remember when then- Defense Secretary Robert Gates noted that the Pentagon had about as many people in military bands as the State Department had active Foreign Service officers? Well, it’s still true today.

President Trump says he is a savvy businessman. Yet his attitude toward the Pentagon is that of an indulgent parent. “We love and need our Military and gave them everything — and more,” he tweeted last year. Far from bringing rationality to defense spending, he has simply opened the piggy bank while trying to slash spending on almost every other government agency. The Pentagon is the most fiscally irresponsible government agency, but the Republicans’ response has been to simply give it more.

The much deeper danger, however, is spotlighted by Jessica Tuchman Mathews in a superb essay in the New York Review of Books. Mathews points out that we tend to think about the defense budget as a percentage of the country’s gross domestic product, which is fundamentally erroneous. The defense budget should be related to the threats the country faces, not the size of its economy. If a country’s GDP grows by 30 percent, she writes, it “has no reason to spend 30 percent more on its military. To the contrary, unless threats worsen, you would expect that, over time, defense spending as a percentage of a growing economy should decline.”

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