Stanford Report
Online   News





Issue of
October 21, 1998


home pageSearch
write us

 


'Rough magic of the cultural mix' is nation’s best hope

BY KATHLEEN O'TOOLE

On this October morning in the intimate parlor of the Humanities Center Annex, while a newly minted Nobel laureate in physics holds a press conference across campus, a man introduced as the "most visible and influential present-day American humanist" addresses a campus audience.

Henry Louis Gates Jr., the W. E. B. Du Bois Professor of Humanities at Harvard, appears as a tweedy English professor in person and in an archeologist's khaki shorts and T-shirt on screen as he leads a group of 40 ­ mostly Stanford graduate students ­ down the Niger River to Tombouctou, a "nearly destitute" late-20th-century town of about 20,000 on the edge of the Sahara.

The videotape recording of the arduous trip to what the Oxford English Dictionary calls "the most distant place imaginable" shows the tour group inside a private Tombouctou residence, where the host allows Gates to touch and tape close-ups of flaking, brownish books on astronomy, accounting, geometry and the going price for slaves.


Related Information:


"When I grew up, the schoolbooks said Africans couldn't read and write," the videotaped Gates says cheerily to his turbaned African host.

Around the time of Lewis and Clark, a French explorer was the first humanist to land in Tombouctou, but the town already had fallen on hard times, and he left unimpressed. His gloomy written reports of Tombouctou filtered into the American school curriculum of the '50s and clashed with the tall tales told about "Timbuktu" by old men sitting in the barbershop of Gates' hometown in Appalachia.

This contradiction led Gates back to Tombouctou where, he says, there are still manuscripts by the thousands that date to the 16th century, when the town was home to a profitable salt trade and a mosque-based educational system complete with a university that awarded turbans instead of sheepskins to West African students, who took about 10 years of advanced study to earn the equivalent of today's Ph.D.

This university, complete with books written in African languages, was founded about the same time as the universities of Paris and Bologna and "311 years before my beloved Harvard," Gates tells his Stanford audience.

* * *

In the intimate parlor of the Humanities Center Annex Oct. 13, the tweedy English professor takes over the podium from the explorer. When he worries about the legacy of his generation of African American scholars, Gates says, it is not about the survival of today's 216 university-based African and African American studies programs but "whether there will be 10 or even five centers in 2050" with databases such as the one once lost in Tombouctou for four centuries. "The jury is still out," he says, which is why he confesses to being "a kind of P. T. Barnum" making videotapes, speeches and private pleas for African and African American studies. "My strategy in the short term is glory; in the long term it's institutionalization," he says.

When Gates stops talking, a graduate student from Hawaii thanks him for his speech the night before in Kresge Auditorium and for his tour this morning, but says she wants him to address more specifically what he has hinted at and what is pressing on her mind as she considers the archeological and archival work Hawaiian scholars will have to do if they wish to recover their precolonial history: "How will that information you have gathered affect your people's collective identity?"

Gates, rarely at a loss for words, pauses. "Difficult question to answer," he says. "Are intellectual heroes like athletes? Absolutely not. . . . You are still a scholar working in a library with students and books. You change. You have more in common with white people that you don't even like when you go back to your 25th reunion." He fumbles for another comparison. "Marx wrote Das Kapital in the mid-19th century and the Bolshevik Revolution occurred in 1917, so it takes a long time."

* * *

The first speaker in this year's Presidential Lectures and Symposia in the Humanities and Arts, Gates was introduced Oct. 12 to a large Kresge Auditorium audience by English Professor Terry Castle as "the most visible and influential present-day American humanist," the 1998 equivalent of Lionel Trilling. She noted that he is a historian of three centuries, a "founder and shaper of the discipline" of black literary criticism, and author of many popular periodical articles. She said she even spied one of his academic books on the bookshelf of a sophisticated Manhattan apartment pictured in a decorator magazine.

Gates, also known in academic circles for building an African American studies dynasty at Harvard that rivals the Yankees in baseball, responded by suggesting the East Coast was in her future. He proceeded in the course of an hour to deliver two lectures, the first for humanists interested in his ideas on how to reconcile liberal humanism with multiculturalism, and the second for the "talented tenth," W. E. B. Du Bois' controversial term for the most highly educated African Americans.

Thanks to the civil rights movement and affirmative action, he said to "the tenth," the black middle class has quadrupled since Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated in 1968, but a larger proportion of black children now live below the poverty line. He urged the tenth to "stop feeling guilty about our own success" and instead "feel a commitment of service to those left behind."

Referring to African Americans as "a nation within a nation" with a population larger than that of Canada, he said, "We can't pretend any longer that 35 million people will ever possibly be exactly members of the same economic class.

"The best we can strive for is that class differentials within the African American community ­ what I call the bell curve of class ­ cease their lopsided ratios because of the pernicious nature of racial inequality." Black intellectuals who want to lead must confront "the twin realities of white racism on the one hand and our own failures to take the initiative and break the cycle of poverty on the other."

Leaders are merely "ethnic cheerleaders," he said, when they "continue to repeat the same old stale formulas, to blame 'the Man' for oppressing us all in exactly the same ways, to scapegoat Koreans, Jews or even ­ in my beloved Boston ­ Haitians as many black Americans do for our own failure to seize local entrepreneurial opportunities."

Leading one's community, he said, involves "daring to risk estrangement and alienation sometimes from the community in the short run in order to break a cycle of poverty, despair and hopelessness that our people are in over the long run." He called for a "comprehensive jobs bill, the equivalent of the Marshall Plan for cities," and for the institutionalization of summer internships for college and high school students in community development projects as well as for the continuation of affirmative action, "the same affirmative action that got me into Yale and virtually every job that I've had since I graduated."

His message to humanists cut a similar swath midway between two ideological poles. He urged Americans of all colors, religions, races and sexual orientations to remain aware of the dangers of collective-identity politics in a post­Cold War world that has had 48 examples of serious ethnic conflicts, but also to accept collective identities as "an ages-old phenomenon." He chastised "relativists for recusing themselves from other people's problems," such as the conflicts among religious groups, genital mutilation in Africa and human rights abuses in China, but he also criticized cultural puritans for trying to erect boundaries around their idea of culture and failing to admit America's pluralistic past and present.

"Deference to the autonomy of other beliefs, other values, other cultures has become an all too easy alibi for moral isolation," he said in reference to the relativists. "When we need action, we get hand wringing; when we need forthrightness, we get equivocation."

A rigorous multiculturalism, he told both cultural purists and relativists, needs to reject both "the tale of pilgrim triumphalism" and "the elevation of difference over commonality." It should challenge the "proliferation of a vulgar identity politics" by providing an "honest account of ethnic dynamism [that] gives full weight to the forces of assimilation and convergence on the one side as well as those of differentiation and divergence on the other side." It needs to recognize, he said, that individuals come from places in society and that "white boyism" is a politics of identity too.

Americans must "learn to live without the age-old deleterious dream of purity, whether purity of blood lines or purity of cultural inheritance." Learning to find comfort, solace and fulfillment in "the rough magic of the cultural mix" may be an imperfect solution, he said, like democracy, but the best available alternative. SR