Compromise

When I learned yesterday that Terry Jones, the crazy preacher in Florida with big plans for a Quran-burning ceremony to mark September 11 and Feisal Abdul Rauf, the imam with big plans to build a Muslim-led interfaith community center in Lower Manhattan had reached a compromise, I was disappointed and appalled. The compromise is that Cordoba House will be built somewhere else, and in exchange, the Quran burning will be called off. To me, this seems like a massive victory for the forces of intolerance and hatred. I won’t go over all the reasons why I think not only that Cordoba House has an unqualified right to exist on Park Place, but also that it would be a great idea and a wonderful addition to the neighborhood and the city—I’m sure that most people reading this agree with me already.

I am having second thoughts, however, about my feelings about the compromise. We live in a world in which the most extreme positions seem to be the only ones that get attention. In this case, my own position on Cordoba House can perhaps be placed on the extreme end: Over the last few months, every time I heard someone say something like, “of course they have a legal right to build it wherever they want, but they should not build a mosque so close to Ground Zero out of consideration for the feelings of others,” I was enraged. And I still am. It is pure unadulterated racism to associate the attack on the World Trade Center with Islam. To feel offended or troubled by seeing a prominent Muslim building so close to this “hallowed ground” can only be based on ignorance and xenophobia, and I refuse to acknowledge the legitimacy of these feelings. To do so would be to compromise my principles.

Oops, there’s that word. Compromise. Sometimes, negotiation means that two (or more) people get together, talk sincerely about their principles and interests, and find that there is in fact overlap. They come to an agreement, and everyone walks away happy, having resolved their conflict without giving up anything truly important. But that isn’t really a compromise. Compromise is when one or both sides cannot or will not accept the legitimacy of the other’s position—and yet still agree to give a little, to compromise their principles, in order to achieve some other goal—perhaps a more important principle. This appears to be exactly what happened yesterday. So maybe we should be applauding both sides.

Imagine if the principle of compromise were put in action in other situations. One situation I’m thinking about is the talks that have just begun, again, between Israel and the Palestinian Authority. Everyone is all nicey-nicey so far. Sooner or later, though, one of the questions that will come up is Jerusalem. I imagine how this negotiation might progress. The two sides will agree on the principle of a two-state solution, and will start drawing lines. They’ll go back forth over the lines in the Galilee and along the whole border between the West Bank and Israel. They can get this far without too many people having to seriously compromise their principles. But eventually they’ll reach Jerusalem. They’ll put East Jerusalem on one side and West Jerusalem on the other. They’ll argue over the dividing lines, but they’ll get there—again, mostly without having to give up anything that truly makes either side feel aggrieved.

Then they’ll get to the Old City, and things will get a lot stickier. Maybe they’ll even divide up the Old City—putting the Muslim Quarter in Palestine and the Jewish Quarter in Israel. But they will eventually reach that one spot, where the Dome of the Rock stands atop the ruins of the ancient Temple, and it will no longer be possible to divide things up. Both sides believe they have an absolute right—given by G-d, no less—to absolute sovereignty over this little piece of land. There is no way to reach a settlement without one or both sides saying, “Even though your claim on this piece of ground is absolutely illegitimate and outrageous, I am willing to compromise my values in pursuit of a higher principle; living in peace with you is that important.” I hope that someday, the leaders of Israel and Palestine will exhibit the wisdom of Feisal Abdul Rauf and make that compromise.

Eid Mubarak.

[UPDATE: It appears that the news I heard was premature—Imam Feisal Abdul Rauf now says he has not agreed to move Cordoba House and Pastor Terry Jones now says he has not yet called off the Quran burning. So perhaps we have to view the “compromise” as a fictional parable. The lesson still stands.]

לשנה טובה

I don’t consider myself a religious person, but I like to take the opportunity of a new year to step back, take stock, think about how I’m living my life. And as with the new year that falls in January, I have a tendency to make resolutions, most of which don't last very long. So here’s what I’m thinking about on this first day of 5771.

I’ve read several articles recently about studies that have shown that our 21st Century compunction to be connected, available, in contact with everyone all the time may actually have a detrimental effect on our cognitive abilities. It seems to be related not just to the shortening attention spans that we’ve been hearing about since the dawn of time, but to the need for our minds to have some down time. If every time we have thirty free seconds, we’re checking email or playing games, or… or whatever it is that we’re doing, then our brains don’t have the time to process all the information that’s been coming in. Or something like that.

And I’m pretty sure I’m very near the top of the constantly connected curve. I wake up each morning to NPR, and immediately check my email on my iPhone. As I drink my morning coffee, I continue listening to the radio while I read email, check Facebook, surf the net. I make sure to download the New York Times to the phone so that I’ll have something to read on the subway, and then it’s off to work. The only time I’m awake and completely free of electronic communication on most days is while I’m swimming—perhaps another way in which those 90 minutes a few times a week keep me from insanity.

I’m not sure if my connectedness is really hurting my ability to reason: it’s very hard do a control experiment on such a question, and I can’t be bothered to try. But I do know that when I make the time to meditate for 20 minutes, I feel more grounded and able to face the world. And I remember how great I felt after a yoga retreat a year ago, when I was mostly off the grid for four or five days—and how much I loved the silent mornings in particular.

So my main goal for 5771 is to be more present by being just a little bit less present. I will occasionally turn off my phone for a while. Maybe I’ll even work my way up to leaving the apartment without it. I will occasionally be at home without the radio or TV keeping me company. Please be patient with me if it takes a little longer to get a reply to your next text message.