Gender Theory (of Cheesecake)

I need your help, and because I have so many readers who love to bake, I thought I'd bring it up now.  Next time you host a dinner party I'd like you to conduct a little experiment and afterwards send me the results.  The working hypothesis that I'm testing is basically this: by a high margin more women than men prefer cheesecake. 

So here's what you do. Invite friends and co-workers over for a shindig. Might I suggest an Italian meal, manicotti and Caesar salad, and don't forget the diet soft drinks.  Surely someone will bring a bottle of red wine.  For you Miss Susie Homemakers out there, freshly baked bruschetta with plenty of garlic and a smidgen of oregano or rosemary would be nice.  You can either prepare the desserts yourself or have guests bring some in potluck fashion. The key thing is to have variety. First, provide non-cheesecake desserts (and not just one) like brownies with white icing or chocolate cake or meringue cookies or whatnot. Second, make sure you have a variety of cheesecake: cherry and chocolate, say.  One of our dinner guests, a dear friend of ours named Evelyn, hadn't touched my wife's special mud pie cheesecake because, as she explained later, chocolate makes her rosacea act up. So her reason for not eating cheesecake was invalid and it threw off the study.

Ladies, it's important that you don't spill the beans until afterwards lest you taint the results. Once everyone has had dessert and you're all sitting around chewing the fat, then you can talk about it if you like. As they say in the military, you can conduct an AAR, or after-action review. I suppose it could provide an interesting conversation topic for about five minutes while you're getting out Pictionary.  Until then quietly observe who eats what, but don't be obvious about it, because they'll think your keeping tabs on how much they eat.   Men and women struggling with their weight, Americans in other words, are already self-conscious enough.  A friend of ours caught me watching her choosing a dessert, and with disastrous results; but I'll discuss what not to do a few paragraphs below.

As you can gather by now, I have administered this non-scientific survey myself.  However, I need more subjects before I can confirm my hypothesis definitively.  Perhaps Der Viator readers could email their own results and we could base my anecdotal evidence on sounder quantitative data.  In addition we could hazard an explanatory theory to account for this gender divide.  Admittedly, I've worked out a few preliminary ideas  already, and I'll share them at the conclusion.

Since some of my readers—and most assuredly not you—are not well versed in etiquette and social protocol, I'd first like to offer some do's and don'ts in carrying out this study.  My dear wife, bless her heart, has obliged my relentless search for truth.  She's been the one making the dinner arrangements and preparing the meals, while I develop various theories upstairs in my office.  I'm hesitant to bring up some of my mistakes in conducting the study, as you might think I'm the most socially inept person you've ever met; but I think it's important to show you some of the pitfalls.  Let me say at the outset that I can be quite charming and personable, the type of person you'd be delighted to have at a party.  My wife won't testify to my gregarious side, but that's only because she has a different definition of social.  (Just because I don't grin like a chimpanzee and gesticulate like a seal doesn't mean I'm aloof.)

Joyce, a mutual friend of ours, noticed me observing her cut a slice of cheesecake and place it carefully on a plate.  A few crumbs from the graham cracker crust flaked off onto the table top.  She picked each one up by meticulously smashing them with her index finger and then licking them.  Fearing she figured out that I was conducting an experiment on gender-based cheesecake consumption, I tried to gloss things over, and, boy, did I say the wrong thing.  “My, Joyce, you have quite an appetite. I think that’s great.” I blurted out these words without considering their effect.  Still not thinking, and self-admittedly obtuse when it comes to the female of our species, I called to my wife. “Honey? Get out the reserve plate from the frig.” I realized instantly that I had made the situation worse.  The other guests stared into their plates trying to come up with a new conversation topic.  The rosacea on Evelyn's face, by the way, turned extra red, and she hadn't touched the chocolate cheesecake nor the M&M's I offered her earlier.

“Oh, I’m sorry," came Joyce's belated response. "I guess I am gobbling this thing down, aren’t I?” Another awkward pause ensued for five seconds and I swear it seemed like five minutes. “They’re so good."  She laughed nervously and manufactured a fake smile for appearances' sake. "I should start back on my diet, you’re right.”  No-one could miss the indignant tone in her voice. If you make a faux pas like I certainly did, quickly recover with a compliment. “Your blouse is cute, by the way."  I mentioned the only women's store I know (because it's located next to Barnes & Noble), thinking I needed a bit more detail for chit-chat.  "Did you get that at Lane Bryant?”  During pillow talk time with my wife later in the night, I learned I had made yet another gaffe.

Here’s the way it's supposed to happen. You’re all sitting around the table. Enough time has elapsed since the meal. You talk in the most amiable, polite voice you can muster: “Bill? Joyce? Karen? Evelyn?  Would you care for some dessert?” “Why, yes, I would,” Joyce responds. “Thank you, sweetheart, for asking.” The sweetheart reference repulses you, but you bite the bullet and press on. Your wife lays out the goodies, and you supply the plates and forks.  Simply thus.  Don't get out a notebook; don't start gawking at their plates.  Merely make a mental note, and utilize peripheral vision.

So why should we trouble ourselves with such an experiment?  That's a good question.  I suppose it satisifies my curiosity.  I suspect a physiological or cultural explanation for the preponderance of women who choose the cheesecake.  And I should make it clear that if you're a guy and you choose cheesecake over other dessert options, I don't intend to impugn your masculinity.  There's always been at least one guy who'll nibble on it.  It's not %100.  So consider yourself part of the ten percent club on cheesecake.

I have toyed with a few theories to account for these test results. Perhaps it has something to do with the process of making cheesecake, or cheese at any rate.  After all, enzyme and estrogen both start with the letter E.  This is possibly a coincidence but highly doubtful.  Another theory I'm developing is called the Motherly Instinct theory.  Women, according to this theory, like cheesecake because this particular dessert, arguably, is a bit more dairy heavy, and women, as lactating nurturers, identify with it.  Perhaps someday, somehow, the results of this study will lead to the cure for cancer, breast cancer especially, given the whole cheesecake-breast connection I've established.  I'm just throwing that out.  You never know.  Now, some uneducated people would suggest these theories are lame, but you, faithful Der Viator readers, appreciate the scientific spirit of inquiry as much as I do.  Remember what they said about Copernicus.

Qur'anic Interpretations of Marriage

I thought I'd stay on the theme of multiple wives today.  The basis for polygyny in the Islamic tradition derives from Quran 4:3. The Prophet permits Muslims to marry “two, three, or four” women. Many conservative exegetes in the patriarchal tradition interpret this verse straightforwardly. They might advise a young man to marry only one wife for economic reasons, however.

The hermeneutics of more liberal Koranic commentators devote more attention to the preceding and subsequent statements and thence offer two divergent interpretations. First, the caveat that follows, “But if you fear that you cannot maintain equality among them,” indicates for some a kind of tongue-in-cheek negation of polygyny. Who could ever treat his wives equally? The passage, in this sense, essentially advises only monogamy. Other expositors argue that the verses are descriptive, not prescriptive; they reflect historical conditions particular to the early Muslim community. The Prophet sanctioned polygyny as a solution to a social problem, namely, the surplus of orphan girls and widows. If the passage is indeed prescribing a general precept for all times, it wouldn’t be polygyny carte blanche; instead, social justice for unprotected women is the prerequisite for the taking of multiple wives. According to the historian Reza Aslan, the survival of the umma (Muslim community) depended on polygyny after the early Muslim warriors fell in battle. Muhammad’s small community in Medina faced overwhelming odds against the Meccans and their allies; to carry on the fight they had to replenish the fallen.

Beyond the use and abuse of Q 4:3, advocates and practitioners of polygyny, most of whom come from tribal societies, assert that the life of the Prophet himself provides the paradigm on marriage. Mostly for political reasons, Muhammad took nine wives after the death of his beloved Khadija. The applicability of Muhammad’s life to the individual (male) believer today, however, is a discussion for another day.

For those interested, I gleaned the information above from the following sources:

1. Jane D. McAuliffe, ed., The Cambridge Companion to the Qur’an (2006), 262-266

2. Reza Aslan, No god but God: The Origins, Evolution, & Future of Islam (2006),60-5.

3. “Decoding the Past – Secrets of the Koran” (History Channel DVD, 2006)

When Men Become Gods (2/2)

The Lost Boys of Utah, as the exiled young men have been called, have suffered a great deal from this totalitarian system, some taking to drugs and prostitution and others trying to make a go living “on the outside” with government assistance. But let us not neglect the most tragic victims of all: girls and women. The leaders of the community had insisted that they “keep sweet,” that is, be domesticated victims of middle-aged perverts in abusive, loveless, or at least highly-controlled marriages. It appears that even Joseph Smith’s wife, Emma, was not keen on the concept of celestial marriage involving many wives and concubines. “If she will not abide this commandment,” so goes Smith’s divine decree, “she shall be destroyed, saith the Lord; for I am the Lord thy God, and will destroy her if she abide not in my law.”

Keep in mind that when we’re referring here to men becoming gods, we’re not speaking metaphorically. Himmler’s vision of Teutonic demigods ruling over inferior races in an Aryan Empire was for the here and now, and for all his twisted mystical musings, he never seemed to lose sight of the fact that he was a mortal. Mormon males look forward to becoming deities of their own respective universes. Each wife functions essentially as an Eve in the afterlife allowing the Mormon male, an aspiring Adam, to populate a planet and, like Jesus Christ, rule over it like a god. The more wives he has, the more children he’ll sire, the more power he’ll enjoy in the next life. (On a side note, the only world I could imagine an Orrin Hatch or Harry Reid governing is maybe Planet Arschloch.)

To what extent Warren Jeffs (pictured above), and Mormons more generally, believe the more metaphysical, supernatural doctrines of Mormonism is a matter of conjecture. There’s no question that he availed himself of the social implications: polygamy and a strong-handed patriarchal society. We can imagine Jeffs succumbing to the conviction that he truly was God’s appointed, what with the kind of unchallenged power he wielded and his life-long immersion in a polygamist-based cosmology. Contrast him with Jeff Lundgren, former leader of the so-called Reorganized Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints based in Kirtland, Ohio. He was likewise a controlling person, as cult leaders are required to be, and fancied himself a prophet. But according to psychiatrist Michael H. Stone, in his book The Anatomy of Evil (2009), Lundgren was more a grandiloquent con man bilking his followers of their money and indulging his sexual proclivities than a delusional individual believing he was really God (which unlike Jeffs he eventually claimed). In 1989 Lundgren had a follower lure a family of five into a farmhouse where the supposed prophet personally killed them and buried the bodies in a pit merely because they opposed his attempt to get his hands on their savings. Jeffs did not resort to violence, but neither did David Koresh and Jim Jones until cornered by authorities within the confines of their closely-monitored strongholds. (If we wanted to be charitable and make Jeffs look good by comparison, we’d note that Lundgren punished his jealous wife for not accepting the addition of a younger second wife by forcing her to smear his own feces on his genitalia and having her then perform fellatio. One wonders if Joseph Smith had this in mind for poor Emma.)

A jury found Mr. Jeffs guilty on two counts of being an accomplice to rape; he is currently serving a ten-year sentence. Unfortunately we must call a spade a spade here. If you think about it, Jeffs was only adhering faithfully to the original teachings of the religion’s founder. And what a strange and preposterous religion it is! I don’t want to lump all Mormons into this fundamentalist fringe, just as I do not perceive all Catholics as pedophiles or all Muslims as terrorists. However, the LDS church has for too long withheld condemnation of the immoral (and illegal) practices of its breakaway adherents. By the time of Jeffs’ trial, these abject inbreeders had already established a new bastion in Eldorado, Texas with a presumptive patriarch ready to launch a legal battle against authorities. In 2008 police raided the compound. According to Singular, authorities were making the same mistake they had made in 1953. He argues that their intrusion into the homes of polygamist families had set back efforts for half a century. Until Jeffs’ exploits at the turn of the new century, the fundamentalist Mormons lived under the radar, more or less, benefiting from their geographical remoteness, embarrassment or indifference of mainstream Mormons, and reticence of the government to make another mess. That’s a shame.

Singular argues that efforts on the part of private investigators and lawyers leading to Jeffs’ imprisonment paid off largely because they took the time to get their ducks in a row. Fair enough. But I think he too readily dismisses the quicker option of direct, immediate intervention, notwithstanding the pitfalls of government raids à la Waco. For fifty years these patriarchs were left to their own devices. Only a few brave women had the courage to oppose the injustices of a life they had been taught to embrace as normal. We’ll give one of them the last word. After hearing the jury’s decision on Jeffs, a former FDLS member, who had been banished and lived a life on the run, commented: “Warren’s leadership had been dismantled. If I closed my eyes, I could see a thirteen-year-old girl in a meadow with the sun shining down on her. Girls like to twirl when they’re happy and I was twirling like that. I was just free.”

When Men Become Gods (1/2)

Back in September of 2007, when I was on a two-week military leave from Afghanistan, my wife and I watched a movie called September Dawn starring Jon Voight. The film depicted the Mountain Meadow massacre of 1857, a coldly calculated mass murder involving Mormon militiamen, thinly disguised as Paiute Indians, attacking a wagon train of settlers in Utah Territory. Under the direction of John D. Lee, a friend of founder Joseph Smith, the Mormons killed 120 people—men, women and children; more controversially (but with a degree of credibility it turns out) the film suggests that Brigham Young, the first president of the Latter Day Saint Church and the founder of Salt Lake City, was complicit. This was perhaps the worst slaughter of civilians in the continental United States, until Timothy McVeigh and Al-Qaeda came on the scene. The hijacking of four planes in 2001 and the murderous rampage at Mountain Meadow both occurred on September 11. So, at about the time I saw the film, it was the sesquicentennial anniversary of the massacre and the sixth anniversary of 911. I didn’t realize then that the trial of Warren Jeffs, 51-year-old leader of a polygamist Mormon sect, was also about to get underway.

I recently finished reading a book by Stephen Singular entitled When Men Become Gods: Mormon Polygamist Warren Jeffs, His Cult of Fear, and the Women Who Fought Back (2009). The main title struck my fancy, as I have a sick fascination with psychopaths and other evil scoundrels. Jeffs, who became the de facto prophet of the Church of Fundamentalist Latter Day Saints (FLDS) after his father’s death in 2002, should rank right up there in the satanic pantheon of American cult leaders with Jim Jones and David Koresh. There is a difference, true. Authorities arrested Jeffs without incident; a highway patrol officer pulled over an SUV for an obscured license plate on I-15 just outside Las Vegas, only to find a pale, sleepy-eyed, six-foot-five phantom nervously scarfing down a fast-food salad in the backseat.  Jeffs was a fugitive on the FBI’s Top Ten Most Wanted list. The isolated Mormon community could be nasty toward outsiders, especially investigators poking their noses around, but it never took up arms. Only time would tell, however, whether they could go this route; after all, fundamentalist leaders had been offing their rivals with shotguns a couple of decades earlier. And yet Jeffs was no less evil than those more violent “men of God.”

Safely ensconced in the remote Old Testament terrain of the “Arizona Strip,” located north of the Grand Canyon, the fundamentalist sect straddles the twin towns of Hildale, Utah and Colorado City, Arizona. Ultimately we can trace their origins to 1890, when the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, also in September, renounced polygamy in an effort to achieve statehood for Utah and avoid federal seizure of property. This Mormon Manifesto was pure political expedience, but like the 1978 “Negro Doctrine” that allowed interracial marriages and men of African descent access to the priesthood, it had been sanctioned, conveniently, by a new divine revelation. Ever since, sectarian groups practicing polygamy, in thousands of congregations throughout the U.S. and Canada, have been the bête noire for the mother church in Salt Lake City.

At the risk of turning this reflection on human depravity into a book review, I do have a couple issues with Singular’s account. The author evidently thinks he can’t convey the evils of Jeffs and other sect elders unless he likens them to Islamic Jihadists. I don’t need this association with burning towers and suicide bombers to appreciate the dangers that polygamist cults pose. He also attributes Jeffs’ views to a fascination, if not admiration for, Hitler; clearly the fundamentalist (and dare I say, a fair share of mainstream) Mormons hold ugly racist views. Rulon Jeffs (pictured above), the father, once decreed that anyone who marries a black merits “death on the spot.” But the author only suggests, and does not substantiate, this connection. Is this yet another attempt to manipulate the reader? Again, there’s no need. There are plenty of wicked deeds to repulse us without any Nazi association. If anyone deserves a life sentence in prison, it’s Warren Jeffs I should think.

The story of the FLDS is a tale of control freaks enjoying absolute power not unlike, say, the North Korean regime on a microcosmic level. My reference to the East Asian communist dystopia is not an offhand reference. Images of Kim Jung-Il and his deceased father, the “Eternal President,” are as ubiquitous in the isolated country as the hunger and suffering of their oppressed subjects; similarly, on the wall or mantle of an FDLS home you’ll see a photo not of Jesus, not Gandhi, not even Brigham Young, but Warren and his pa, Rulon. From the Anabaptist zealots of Münster to crazy-eyed Marshall Applewhite in San Diego, history is replete with divinely-inspired whack jobs duping their gullible sheep with signs, wonders, and promise of a blissful future, in this life or the next. For his part, Jeffs ruled over an empire of safe houses and compounds throughout the Southwest and as God’s anointed could do whatever he wished. To quote Megadeth’s doggerel verse, “You take a mortal man, And put him in control, Watch him become a god, Watch peoples heads a’roll.”

Some of this stuff you just can’t make up. What if I were to tell you that some lanky dude, equal parts vindictive, creepy, nondescript and nerdy, ordered the extermination of all pets in the community? (Those troll-like creatures with the pitchforks will no doubt be prodding him up in line ahead of Michael Vick in the bad place.) How about banishing young men from the town to free up teenage girls for grizzled pot-bellied men, leaving the hapless youths to wander the deserts of Utah without hope, hearth, or home? What say you to women forced to wear their hair in a tight bun, pastel-colored dresses from the Victorian Age, and a constricting bodice underneath, come rain or shine? Rest assured, beyond these oddities, we get the good old-fashioned rape, sodomy, sex with minors, and isolation from media requisite for many cults. There’s nothing new under the sun; men have been engaged in such activities for millennia. But the fact that these crimes occur within the American heartland should give us pause.

Mother and Son

Today is my mom's birthday.  I inherited my temperament from her and perhaps some other fine attributes.  The youngest of seven siblings, she grew up in Childress, Texas before marrying a bespectacled high school principal from Lubbock.  People are largely the product of their childhood experiences.  Although she's lived in the LA area for decades now, my mom loves country music and has retained her accent, more or less.  You can take the girl out of Texas but not vice-versa.  And yet she's just as much a Southern Californian in outlook and sensibility.  Similarly, I'm still as comfortable in California as I am in the Upper Midwest, where I've resided lo these many years.

Having grown up in California, I got only bits and pieces of my mom's more youthful days, let alone her ancestral history.  Trips to Texas were few and far between, and rarely did relatives visit us.  I have only vague recollection of her mom and dad.  My wife and I are planning to visit our respective parents in late March; they were next-door neighbors until my parents moved about fifteen miles away in the 1990s.  Among other things, I hope to get more details about my mom's great-grandparents.  I'm a bit more informed about my father's family tree, thanks largely to my dad's now-deceased aunt, Leila, who was a hardcore genealogist.  As a Germanophile, though, I find my matrilineal ancestors more intriguing; my great-great-grandparents, I discovered only moments ago, immigrated from Baden and Lower Saxony.  I just finished looking at a few photos and explanatory letters that my mom had sent in a manila envelope.

In addition to my melancholy disposition, or perhaps as part and parcel of it, my mom bequeathed to me an appreciation for the finer things—music above all.  Undoubtedly her interest in my early musical training and her own musical nature sparked the creative flame within me.  Singing songs with acoustic guitar and piano accompaniment is one of my many fond memories.  Perhaps I'll write about my musical experiences at another time.  Suffice to say for now, playing, composing and listening to music have provided some of the most joyous moments in my life, and I have my mother to thank.

I suspect her sense of humor likewise had an effect on me.  When I was a teenager we'd love watching David Letterman and Steve Martin, and we've enjoyed employing our own caustic wit from time to time.  Take from me dry humor and music and I'll probably give up the ghost not long thereafter.  Like my mom, I think, I have found these two pastimes a source of great consolation, especially at times when life is bittersweet or disappointingly mundane.

I'm sure you've found yourself uttering phrases or exhibiting peculiar mannerisms around your children.  I might use a nickname for one of my kids or make a comment in a strange intonation with them not realizing it stems from my childhood.  Such is the influence of our mothers.

I'm not entirely sure what my mom wants out of life.  That's okay, because I don't know myself.  But whatever fears, aspirations, worries or sources of comfort I harbor in my heart, they didn't emerge ex nihilo.  I'm my mother's son.

Humility, One of My Finest Attributes

Dinner guests and intellectual interlocutors alike have often made reference to my wit, charm, refreshing candor, and gracious demeanor. I don’t know about that, but I do concede that humility is one my most notable (and endearing) attributes. I have found that it usually strikes someone two or three minutes, say, into a conversation with me that they pick up on it. I’m perhaps one of the most—if not the most—modest people around. That’s saying something coming from me, for I keep around me a close network of dear, humble friends, even if I tower above them in humility. I realize it’s easy to make such a claim. You should be wary of someone claiming to be humble. I do have evidence to back it up, however. I could point to the many instances in which I was reluctant to discuss either my great achievements or myself. Suffice to say that if you were to meet me, you would be impressed.

Islamic Paradise Lost?

The other day my sister sent me one of those email chain letters. It addressed the growing threat of Islam in the world. My kneejerk response to chain letters is to delete them posthaste. However, I suppose I was curious as to whether my sister had succumbed to some wacky theory, though she's never been inclined to do so in the past. Moreover, having visited a few Muslim countries and taught a college course on the contemporary Middle East, I was mildly interested. Not knowing its provenance and not wanting to be the unwitting dupe of some Islam-hating organization, I didn’t send the message on as the author forcefully instructs readers to do.

The short cautionary essay purports to have been written by a German psychiatrist. The gist of it is that violent Islamic fundamentalism is akin to Nazi ideology and other hateful movements that have led to the murder of millions in Rwanda, Mao’s China, Stalin’s Soviet Union, Imperial Japan and so forth. But here's the clincher: It makes little difference whether the majority of moderate Muslims frown on terrorist acts carried out in the name of Islam.

The writer puts his finger on an important insight. Well-intentioned efforts to diminish if not dismiss the threat of jihad in the world today by reminding us that the “majority of Muslims” are decent folk who don’t support terrorism is cold comfort. Why? Their passivity is tantamount to complicity. If they don’t speak out, what good does it do to be opposed to such violent tactics? Significant movements in history—and for present purposes, we’ll single out horrific events like ethnic cleansing, genocide, and bloody coups—were the result of the fanatical few, not the complacent many. To the chagrin of those on the hard right, President Bush didn’t waste much time after 911 declaring Islam to be a peaceful religion. This public statement was necessary statecraft and probably saved some lives. (If memory serves, only one individual, a Sikh (!) in Arizona, lost his life in a direct act of "retribution" for the September hijackings. Remember that we're a nation of 300 million people.) But if the writer of this chain letter is correct, such sentiments, however true, do not offer solace. A handful of fanatics, like Lenin's trained revolutionaries in the early 20th century, can bring down the whole house of cards.

Why are there so few Muslim voices crying out in the wilderness? Fear is part of it, and maybe a big part of it. Daring souls who speak out suffer ostracism, harrassment, or worse, depending on the region or country. But in addition to fear, Al-Qaeda’s actions and goals, I suspect, resonate with many putative moderates. Mainstream Muslims don't advocate the use of IEDs, the beheadings of Western contractors, or the destruction of Israel; but many, arguably, do feel that a bit of Islamic comeuppance might be in order, what with the long history of Western hegemony and European colonialism.

The late Harvard political scientist Samuel P. Huntington, in his oft-cited 1996 book The Clash of Civilizations, suggested that the Cold War between the United States and the Soviet Union was merely a respite from a larger conflict (or set of conflicts) in which religious and cultural fault lines would come to the fore. The latter, after all, was a struggle between two European ideologies—Marxism and capitalism—that lasted seventy years or so, holding at bay, temporarily, a wider, more deeply-rooted conflict in the making, one that has its origins over a millennium ago. With 911, a decade after the fall of the Soviet Empire, the supposed clash of  civilizations began in earnest.

Huntington wasn’t exactly predicting a New Crusade between the West and the Islamic World, but that’s what Usama bin Laden, Al-Zahiri and others of their ilk precisely wanted. Al-Qaeda was hoping to spark the flames of a major conflagration. So far, fortunately, his hope has not come to fruition. (By the way, do you ever notice “civil liberties” arguments against better national security measures—like profiling or a military tribunal—presume an omniscient Bin Laden, as if every response we could take to protect ourselves is exactly what Al-Qaeda wants: no matter what we do we’re playing into their hands.)  Why did they think (and no doubt still think) they could pull this off?

Today many Muslims in the Middle East hearken back to a so-called “golden age” in their history. From the days of Muhammad until the Crusades the Islamic world enjoyed a cultural sophistication and military predominance that did not yet distinguish Europe. The arts flourished, prominent scientists and philosophers abounded, and architecture and court life were the envy of foreign emissaries. Under the Umayyad Empire, which Syrian rulers established at the expense of pan-Islamic unity, Arabs had conquered territory from Persia to Spain. By the late 8th century the Umayyads gave way to the Abbasids, a dynasty that carried on the Islamic banner in a vast, multicultural empire that would bring the faith to Turks, Persians, and other ethnic groups. The early Abbasid Empire, centered at the new city of Baghdad, marked the zenith of Islamic civilization for many Muslims today. The 9th-century court of Harun al-Rashid, the “Islamic Charlemagne” and great patron of the arts, was exemplary of this golden period. Later, European thinkers no less than Thomas Aquinas were discovering and reading the corpus of ancient Greek philosophical texts through the filter of Arab commentators.

In a series of catastrophic incursions on the part of Christian knights, Mongol warriors, and Turkic invaders the Islamic civilization fragmented and declined. By the late Middle Ages, Europe was beginning its gradual ascent towards global hegemony. The so-called Gunpowder Empires in Anatolia, Persia, and Northern India provided a last gasp of political might and military muscle in the Islamic world of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. However, Western European states, thanks in no small part to the Scientific Revolution and Enlightenment, possessed a technological edge and concomitant military superiority increasingly unmatched by non-western empires.

The “myth of the golden age” is not particular to Muslims. After all, Christians since the Reformation have sought to return to an alleged pristine early church that had flourished before the corrupt cultural accretions and political machinations of an episcopal hierarchy had set in. Americans don’t yet know what it’s like to live in a culture whose glory passed centuries ago. The French are still smarting over the fact that their once-great empire has collapsed and they now find themselves in an Anglo-American world. Some contemporary Middle Easterners, most notably violent groups like al Qaeda, look longingly to a lost paradise as much as they despise Western meddling in the region. Were those bygone centuries so paradisiacal?