CHAPTER IX

ETHNICITY, CULTURE AND "PRIMORDIAL" SOLIDARITIES

GEORGE F. McLEAN

The Catholic University of America

 

ANTHROPOLOGY AND THE STUDY OF CULTURE

            In our consideration of the general theme of this Symposium, "Scriptural Faith, Ethnicity and Ethnic Conflict" reflection upon ethnicity seems especially important, and this for at least two reasons. The first is the particular bias of our own individualist culture from which vantage point we see readily the human dignity and rights of the individual person, but only secondarily what per-tains to the community or people. We easily follow a contractarian interpretation of the polis, which conceives the social as a de-cidedly secondary artifact. We hardly can imagine Socrates pre-ferring the hemlock to being ostracized or his sense that the latter is the equivalent of simply being dehumanized. Thus, though "the people of God" rather than the individual is the central theme of the Scripture, it is necessary for us here in America to reflect seriously in order to be able to take any real account of the meaning and importance of belonging to a people.

            Secondly, the term "ethnic" has always carried a notably pejorative connotation; indeed this seems to have been its primary meaning. For the Greeks and Romans it meant those beyond the borders, the uncivilized, the barbarians (e.g., for the Greeks this was used especially for those across the northern border in what now, not incidentally, is called Bulgaria); for the Jews the ethnics were the pagans; for anthropologists (or ethnographers) their concern was first with primitive peoples, past or present. As this country was settled by West Europeans those who came later from Eastern Europe and were less assimilated, were called "ethnics". Thus, the term "ethnic conflict" tends to reflect more disdain than human concern. The more ordinary response is to divorce ethnicity from any religious significance and to seek its suppression by any means.

            But if treating things dismissingly is always dangerous, because blind to reality, to do so to persons, the greatest of creatures, tends to be downright disastrous. For this reason rather than assuming the stance of the self-enclosed, self-satisfied and unreflective citizens of the Greek polis, it is important to look rather to the making of a people.

            This was reflected in the terms "civilization" and "culture". The former referred especially to the citizen or civis of the city and to the social modes characteristic thereof. The latter has rather the connotation of the need to cultivate the soul in order that human life might flourish. The way that this is done by a group is the key to an understanding of an ethnic group. Thus, when the Micropedia cites Ashley Montagu’s notion of an ethnic group as a local race, it adds that it means also a group of people sharing a common cultural heritage. And when the United Nations condemned genocide as the physical extirpation of a race, it followed immediately with a con-demnation of cultural genocide as a radical undermining of a people’s humanity.

            How then can a people be studied in terms of its culture, indeed what can culture mean? With the development of the phy-sical sciences in modern times, observation and induction came to be considered the sure paths to scientific knowledge. The sub-sequent development of the human sciences, in their concern to assure the recognition of their conclusions, followed this lead of the physical sciences. The examination of the externally visible and the reduction or utilitarian relation of all thereto came to be considered the appropriate methodology. Hence, the search was for patterns of action from which might be abstracted increasingly universal principles, which were taken to be the keys to human life. Read in this light, Levi-Strauss’s Totemism unfolds a tale of the develop-ment of anthropology in this century as progressively it took account of additional analytic levels of reality. Every twenty years a new dimension of significance was added, from the empirical ap-proach of Elkins, to the utilitarian added by Malinowski, to the psychological by Durkheim, to the structural by Levi-Strauss him-self.

            All of this reflected the search for objective knowledge from which the attention to the subject needed to be sedulously ex-cluded. For a study of humans, however, it was precisely the sub-jectivity which was most definitory. This suggested the need for attention to human intentionality. This was developed in a scientific manner by Edmund Husserl and the phenomenological tradition and in terms of signs by the burgeoning science of semiology. Clifford Geertz makes note of Susan Langer’s work, Philosophy in a New Key,1 pointing to a shift of attention in anthropology and other human sciences from an objective science of artifacts and behavior to the hermeneutic science of meaning. Thus, ethnology as a scientific understanding of people moved beyond the treatment of all aspects of human life as mere assemblage as earlier reflected in E. B. Tylor’s and C. Kluckhohn’s description of culture as consisting respectively of:

that complex whole which includes knowlege, belief, art, morals, law, customs and any other ca-pabilities and habits required by man as a member of society,2 (or) "patterns, explicit and implicit, of and for behavior acquired and transmitted by sym-bols, constituting the distinctive achievement of human groups, including their embodiments in artifacts; the essential core of culture consists of traditional (i.e., historically derived and selected) ideas and especially their attached values; culture systems may, on the one hand, be considered as products of action, on the other as conditioning elements of further action."3

            In contrast, Clifford Geertz came to focus on the meaning of all this for a people and on how a people’s intentional action went about shaping its world. Thus he contrasts the analysis of culture to an experimental science in search of law, seeing it rather as an interpretative science in search of meaning.4 What is sought is the import of artifacts and actions, that is, whether "it is, ridicule or challenge, irony or anger, snobbery or pride, that, in their occurrence and through their agency, is getting said."5 For this, one must be aware "of the imaginative universe within which their acts are signs."6 In this light, Geertz defines culture rather as "an historically transmitted pattern of meanings embodied in symbols, a system of intended conceptions expressed in symbolic forms by means of which men communicate, perpetuate and develop their knowledge about and attitudes toward life."7

            Nevertheless, one might ask whether this approach in terms of meaning is not itself subject to the accented intellectualism characteristic of modern times. Hence, we are just now beginning to reassemble the person: the physical that is subject to objective observation, the intellectual which searches for meaning, the will which searches for the good, and a yet more deeply human dimension at which we integrate all of these in terms of beauty and the aesthetic.

            If this be the case, then in order to appreciate the nature and significance of ethnicity and groups sharing a cultural tradition this paper will take a number of steps. First, it will study human life at its core, that is in its most proper exercise of freedom. Then, it will examine in this light the nature of a culture tradition as the cumu-lative work of freedom over time by persons as members of communities and by peoples. Next, it will study the adaptation of their tradition to changing circumstances, and their relation to other cultural traditions. Finally it will consider more particularly the na-ture of religion as a dimension of culture with a view to under-standing its role in the generation and resolution of ethnic conflict.

LEVELS OF FREEDOM: LEVELS OF HUMAN MEANING

            We shall attempt to arrive at the appropriate level for attending to ethnicity as a cultural phenomenon by considering the three levels of freedom identified by Mortimer Adler through a survey of the body of Western philosophy by his Institute for Philo-sophical Research: the freedoms first to choose what I want; second to choose as I ought; and third to make myself the person I want to be.8

Circumstantial Freedom of Self-Realization

            John Locke, in order to assure the universal availability of the basis of decision making, restricted knowledge to sense ex-perience and reflection. David Hume concluded that all objects of knowledge must be mere matters of fact, i.e., neither the existence or actuality of a thing nor its essence, but simply the determination of one from a pair of sensible contraries. For Rudolf Carnap this came down to empirical "sets of facts", excluding speech about wholes or God and all but the immediate content of sense ex-perience.

            In brief, all that concerns the culture and commitments of a people or nation is outside the range of this first level of knowledge, and hence can be only matters of blind and arbitrary will. This restriction of knowledge constitutes an extremely limiting and intolerant ideology, no matter how hard its practitioners strive within these limits to achieve openness and pluralism. For their condition for such a pluralism inevitably becomes pervasive elimi-nation from public discourse of all such notions of wholes as nations, peoples, or cultures and all such grounds of meaning as spirit, self, community or God. Though proposed as the condition for tolerance, this relegates commitment, meaning and values to the private domain; public life then must be a battle of self-interests in which self-ambition will have to be depended upon to check self-ambition, for nothing else can be allowed public standing. Freedom will be nothing but the right to be a wolf to the rest of humankind in the cause of self-protection and all is sacrificed to protect this "right".

            It is amazing that this is proposed as the desirable pattern for social and political life, for in such terms it is not possible to speak of appropriate or inappropriate goals or even to evaluate choices in relation to self-fulfillment, much less to social well-being. The only concern is which objects among the sets of contraries I will choose by brute, changeable and even arbitrary will power, and whether circumstances will allow me to carry out that choice. Such choices, of course, may not only differ from, but even contradict the im-mediate and long range objectives of other persons. This will require one to compromise his or her freedom in the sense of Hobbes; John Rawls will even work out a formal set of such com-promises.9 Throughout it all, however, the basic concern remains the ability to do as one pleases.

            This includes two factors. The first is execution by which my will is translated into action. Thus John Locke sees freedom as "being able to act or not act, according as we shall choose or will;"10 while Bertrand Russell sees it as "the absence of external obstacles to the realization of our desires."11 The second factor is individual self-realization understood simply as the accomplishment of one’s own good as one perceives it in the empirical, and hence material, terms of the senses.

            In these terms one’s goal can be only that which appeals to one’s senses, with no necessary relation to real goods or to duties which one ought to perform.12 "Liberty consists in doing what one desires,"13 and the freedom of a society is measured by the latitude it provides for the cultivation of individual patterns of life.14 If there is any ethical theory in this it can be only utilitarian, hopefully with enough breadth to recognize other people and their good as well as one’s own. In practice, over time this comes to constitute a black hole of self-centered consumption of physical goods in which both nature and the person are consumed; it is the essence of con-sumerism.

            This first level of freedom is reflected in the contemporary sense of "choice" in North America. As a theory this is underwritten by a pervasive series of legal precedents following Justice Holmes’ and Brandeis’ notion of privacy, which recently has come to be recognized as a constitutional right. In the American legal system the meaning of freedom has been reduced to this. It should be noted that this derived from Locke’s politically motivated decision (itself an exercise of freedom) not merely to focus upon empirical meaning, but to eliminate from public discourse any other know-ledge. Its progressively rigorous implementation, which we have but sampled in the references to Hume and Carnap, constitute an ideology in the sense of a selected and restrictive vision which controls minds and reduces freedom to willfulness. In this per-spective liberalism is grossly misnamed, and itself calls for a pro-cess of liberation and enrichment.

            In sum, in the context of the Enlightenment and in order to make possible universal participation in social life, Locke limited the range of meaning to what was empirically available. This assured one sense of freedom, but limited it to choices between contrary qualities. The effort was well-intentioned, but he would seem to have tried too hard and compromised too much in a single-minded pursuit of freedom of choice. As a result, the very notion of freedom has not been able to sustain itself, but over time has turned gradually into a consumerist black hole.

Acquired Freedom of Self Perfection

            The second sense of freedom, namely, acquired freedom of self-perfection, was introduced above where we saw how Kant in his second Critique opened a new and much needed dimension of reason, namely, practical reason. Here freedom is founded in law precisely as I assert for myself (autonomous) a law which is fit for all men (universal). One is "able through acquired virtue or wisdom, to will or live as one ought in conformity to the moral law or an ideal befitting human nature."

            Freedom here is then the ability to do, not as I want, but as I ought according to formal principles. An extensive branch of enlightenment theory now is based upon working out in theory what is dictated by this "ought"15 and how much of this can and should be formally agreed to in international conventions in order to be converted into a set of internationally recognized human rights. Certainly one would want no less and the considerable strength of the position lies in fear that this minimum not be strongly protected.

            But this is exactly what happens when this second meaning of freedom is placed at the service of the first for then it is turned into a set of individual human rights which protect the right to choose. At the same time to promote this same right of private acquisition and initiative all intermediate communities and identities are rejected and the state is enlisted in the task of defending and enforcing these individual rights. Minorities and the weaker peoples of this world beware!

Existential Freedom: Natural Freedom of Self-determination as

            the Life of Democracy

            The aesthetic sense of Kant dramatically enriches the pursuit of freedom. It integrates body and spirit, opens all to high ideals and locates in one’s free and creative response to the beauty and harmony of the whole the norm of creative human engagement in reality. This greatly enriches the Enlightenment effort at con-structing freedom by raising its goals and locating the exercise of human freedom, not only in terms of the abstract essences of autonomous individuals, but within our aesthetic response to a sense of beauty and harmony which transcends all, inspires awe and delight in the good, revulsion at what is evil and ugly, and the energy to transform one’s personal and social life.

             If structured in terms of an appreciation or feeling of har-mony, freedom itself at the height of its sensibility serves as a lens presenting the richness of reality in varied and intensified ways: freedom thus understood is both spectroscope and kaleidoscope of being. Freely, purposively and creatively, imagination weaves through reality, focusing now upon certain dimensions, now re-versing its flow, now making new connections and interrelations. In the process reality manifests not only universal scientific structures and their potential interrelations, but its power to evoke our free response of love and admiration, of hate and disgust, of love and commitment.

            In this manner freedom becomes at once the creative source, the manifestation, the evaluator and the arbiter of all that we can imaginatively propose. It is goal, namely to realize life as mean-ingful and free in this world; it is creative source, for with the imagi-nation it unfolds the endless possibilities for human expression; it is manifestation because it presents these to our consciousness in ways appropriate to our capabilities for knowledge of multiple and limited realities and relates these to the circumstances of our life; it is criterion because its response manifests the ability of things to be variously desirable or not in terms of a total personal response of pleasure or displeasure, enjoyment or revulsion; and it is arbiter because it provides the basis upon which our freedom chooses to affirm or reject, realize or avoid various ways of self-realization.

            This is progress indeed, but in his own philosophy Kant both pointed out in theory and illustrated in practice the potential this opens for a serious undermining of the sense of freedom. For if the required context for freedom is based upon proceeding hypothe-tically, ‘as if’ all is teleological then its very reality is compromised. If its exercise is restricted to the confines of the human imagination then freedom becomes, not only self-determining, but self-con-stituting. Again one has tried too hard and become trapped within what he or she can make or do.

            One needs instead to go beyond issues of nature or essence. Freedom is not only the articulation of a law -- however autonomous and universal this might be in the pattern of Kant’s second Critique, or at whatever stage of universalization of the sense of justice in the pattern of Kohlberg’s stages of moral reasoning. Freedom is not merely a nature reflected in moral judgements, it is human life and action. It is to be humanly and to live fully, pertaining not to the order of essence, but to that of existence.

            Progress in being human corresponds to one’s development of a sense of being. Its deepening from forms and structures, essences and laws in Plato, to act in Aristotle and especially to existence in Christian philosophy definitively deepened the sense of human life with its triumphs and tragedies. This is the drama we are living in our days as we are called insistently to humanize the application of our technological abilities and indeed our realization of life itself. This cannot be done simply in terms of essence, that is, of a moral law or an ideal befitting human nature; rather it must be in terms of existence, that is, of deciding for oneself in virtue of the power inherent in human nature to change one’s own character creatively and to determine what one shall be and become. This is the most radical freedom, namely, our natural freedom of self-determination.

            It takes us far beyond freedom as external choice between objects in our world and beyond the internal selection of universal principles for the direction of our action. It is rather self-affirmation in terms of our orientation or teleology to perfection or full realization. This implies seeking when that perfection is absent and enjoying or celebrating it when attained. In this sense, it is that stability in one’s orientation to the good which constitutes a broad culture and people and which in classical instances has been termed holiness. One might say that this is life as practiced by the saints, but it would be more correct to say that it is because they lived the life of their culture to perfection that they are called "holy".   It would be radically insufficient to think in these terms of a human person in isolation from others, as merely self-centered and self-concerned, for then life would be limited to the vision or hopes of only one person or a set of persons taken serially. Indeed, such person would have closed off the realization of being which should rather be open to all of nature and especially to other persons. One’s concern for perfection should extend to other persons beyond what I could determine as my participation in being, and even beyond what I determine for them as their participation in being, for such an exercise of freedom on my part would return to me and remain limited within the confines of my being. Instead, by opening to others as free, that is, as they uniquely determine them-selves, my engagement in being extends definitively beyond myself to their lives and self-realization of all both singly and in community their community, all humankind and indeed all creation.

            But persons are still limited, whereas their minds and hearts are open to being without end. Situated in an existential context the pointer of Kant’s third Critique toward an infinite telos takes on further meaning. For it directs us toward that infinite, self-sufficient and properly creative source of our being. Corresponding to that act of infinite freedom by which we live, and breathe, and have our being, we unite with the act of being by which we are made, the act of love by which we have first been loved. Human growth in freedom is the process of self-correction and self-perfection to the point at which we are fully opened to that infinite act of freedom from which we come and to which we tend. The achievement of this openness is the state of Hindu and Buddhist Enlightenment and of Christian and Islamic Mystical Union in the divine in which God loves himself in me: "I live now not I," says St. Paul, "but Christ liveth in me." Kant himself would only say that to be authentically human, life had to be lived "as if" all is teleological. But then its exercise would be restricted by the limitations of the human imagination and freedom, more than self-determining, would be self-constituting and thus self-limited. In contrast, if the deepest striving of the human spirit is what is most real in this world, then the transcendent principle it requires must be the most real in heaven and earth; if freedom presents us with a limitless range of possibilities, then its principle must be the Infinite and Eternal, Source and Goal of all possibility. The Transcendent is the key to real liberation. It frees the human spirit from limitation to the restricted field of one’s own slow, halting and even partial creative activity. It gives absolute grounding to one’s reality. It certifies one’s right to be respected; and it evokes the creative powers of one’s heart. This is the reason why religion is the heart of culture.

            Hence, to treat all this as a divisive force to be excluded from civil life and identity, as something to be rendered bloodless till it disappears, is fundamentally subversive of public life in the name of openness to abstract rather than concrete persons; it would destroy multiple concrete peoples in favor of an ideologized pluralism. Rather, the religious sense of transcendence makes much needed contributions to modern life. To the liberal sense of freedom as arbitrary choice, awareness of the transcendent Creator adds that life is not only a matter of selecting between which physical realities we will consume, but of being, with its characteristics of self-identity, communication and sharing, justice and love.

            To the aesthetic awareness of Kant as described above, awareness of the transcendent as the context of human life grounds the intuition of human meaning, dignity and rights.

            To the enlightenment egalitarian search for universal parti-cipation in social decision making, this aesthetic sense tempers the aggressive excesses of self-centered personal identity with that broad sense of harmony both with man and with nature needed in our ever more complex and crowded world.

            This indeed is freedom writ large. Beyond issues of pro-cedure or balances of interests, it is the reason why such a divine Person provides a dynamic center for free and constructive human efforts; it gives dramatic impulse to the very essence of democracy as personal participation in social life; it is the transforming presence in the heart of everyone who suffers injustice; it is the source of new life for person and society. This is the real key to the liberation of a people, indeed it is the issue of the foundation and extent of reality and hence of human life itself. As with family and smaller community, to exclude this from nation building or to attempt to erase religion from the identity of a people is to condemn them to subservience to the state and its predominant political power.

CULTURE

            In the light of this third constructive sense of freedom one can begin from within to follow the components of the study of a culture: hermeneutics, values, historicity, tradition, application and inter-pretation.

Hermeneutics

            The circumstances of the Greek messenger make manifest the basic dilemma of hermeneutics (from Hermes, the ancient Greek messenger from the gods) and interpretation, which has come to be called the hermeneutic circle. This consists in the fact that any understanding of the parts requires an understanding of the whole, while the grasp of the whole depends upon some awareness of its parts. This appears in four ways. First, the herald had not merely to pass on a written text, but to speak or proclaim it. This could be done only by reading through all the parts of the message in sequence. But grasping these as parts requires some understanding of the whole message from the very beginning. How can a whole of meaning depend upon parts, which for their very meaning depend upon the whole? Secondly, the message had to be conveyed in a particular historical time and place, and with specific intonation and inflection. But this would convey only one particular sense from the many potentialities of the words. Thirdly, the messenger had not only to express, but also to explain the message and its ramifications or meaning. This required a certain awareness of the broader context of the issue and of the language as the repository of the culture within which the message was composed. In sum, in order to interpret, convey, or receive a message, some sense of the whole is required for assembling and interpreting its parts; but how can one know the whole before knowing its parts?

            This appears also from the task of the messenger in tran-slating or bearing the meaning of the text from the source, in its own context, to others in their distinctive set of circumstances and with their projects and preoccupations. The etymology of the term underlines this task. ‘Interpret’ combines praesto: to show, manifest or exhibit, with the prefix inter to indicate the distinction of the one from whom and the one to whom the message is passed.16 This difference could be between past and present, as when an ancient text is being reread today; between one culture and another, as when a text in another language than one’s own is being interpreted; or indeed, between persons, even in the same culture and time, provided full attention be paid to the uniqueness of each person. But given this difference, how is communication and its implied ‘community’ between the two contexts possible, for were it not to be possible we would be left with never-ending violent clashes between persons, classes and values.

Values and Virtues

            The term ‘value’ was derived from the economic sphere where it meant the amount of a commodity required in order to bring a certain price. This is reflected also in the term ‘axiology,’ the root of which means "weighing as much" or "worth as much." This has objective content, for the good must really "weigh in" -- it must make a real difference.17

            The term ‘value’ expresses this good especially as related to persons who actually acknowledge it as a good and respond to it as desirable. Thus, different individuals or groups, or possibly the same but at different periods, may have distinct sets of values as they become sensitive to, and prize, distinct sets of goods. More generally, over time a subtle shift takes place in the distinctive ranking of the degree to which they prize various goods. By so doing they delineate among objective moral goods a certain pattern of values which in a more stable fashion mirrors their corporate free choices. This constitutes the basic topology of a culture; as repeatedly reaffirmed through time, it builds a tradition or heritage.

            By giving shape to the culture, values constitute the prime pattern and gradation of goods experienced from their earliest years by persons born into that heritage. In these terms they interpret and shape the development of their relations with other persons and groups. Young persons, as it were, peer out at the world through cultural lenses which were formed by their family and ancestors and which reflect the pattern of choices made by their community through its long history -- often in its most trying circumstances. Like a pair of glasses, values do not create the object, but reveal and focus attention upon certain goods and patterns of goods rather than upon others.

            Thus values become the basic orienting factor for one’s affective and emotional life. Over time, they encourage certain patterns of action -- and even of physical growth -- which, in turn, reinforce the pattern of values. Through this process we constitute our universe of moral concern in terms of which we struggle to achieve, mourn our failures, and celebrate our successes.18 This is our world of hopes and fears, in terms of which, as Plato wrote in the Laches, our lives have moral meaning and we can properly begin to speak of virtues.

            The reference to the god, Hermes, in the term ‘hermeneutics’ suggests something of the depth of the meaning which is sought and the implication of this for the world of values. For the message borne by Hermes is not merely an abstract mathematical formula or a methodological prescription devoid of human meaning and value. Rather, it is the limitless wisdom regarding the source and hence the reality, the priorities and hence the value of all. Hesiod had appealed for this in the introduction to his Theogony: "Hail, children of Zeus! Grant lovely song and celebrate the holy race of the deathless gods who are forever. . . . Tell how at the first gods and earth came to be."19

            Aristotle indicated this concern for values in describing his science of wisdom as "knowing to what end each thing must be done . . . ; and this end is the good of that thing, and in general the supreme good in the whole of nature." Such a science will be most divine, for: "(1) God is thought to be among the causes of all things and to be a first principle, and (2) such a science either God alone can have, or God above all others. All the sciences, indeed, are more necessary than this, but none is better."20 Hence, rather than considering things in a perspective that is only temporal and totally changing -- with an implied total relativization of all -- hermeneutics or interpretation is essentially open to a vision of what is most real in itself and most lasting through time, that is, to the perennial in the realm of being and values.

Historicity

            In undertaking his search for unchanging and permanent guides for human action Socrates had directed the attention of the Western mind away from the temporal and changing. In redirecting attention back to this changing universe, the modern mind still echoed Socrates by searching for the permanent structures of complex entities and the stable laws of change. Nevertheless, its attention to the essentially temporal character of mankind and hence to the uniqueness of each decision, individual and corporate, opened important new horizons.

            In the term hermeneutics, the element of translation or interpretation stresses the presentation to the one who receives the message. In this their historical situation, and hence the historical character of human life, becomes essential. This brings into con-sideration not merely the pursuit of general truth, but those to whom truth is expressed, namely, persons in the concrete circumstances of their cultures as these have developed through the history of human interaction with nature, with other human beings and with God.

            This human history sets the circumstances in which one perceives the values presented in the tradition and then mobilizes his or her own project toward the future. Given the admixture of good and evil in human action the process of realizing the good in human history always has been compromised with evil. Conse-quently, the past as well as the present must always be deciphered or interpreted in order to identify both its value content and the contradictions of that content; and projections towards the reali-zation of values in the future must provide also for encountering and overcoming evil.

Tradition

            In the light of the above it is necessary now to follow out culture in time and it forms a tradition as the normative locus and summation of the ambiguous human experience of values; to analyze the application and adaptation of the tradition in the con-crete circumstances of history; and to consider hermeneutics as a method for making positive use of the distinctiveness of one’s own point in history in order more broadly to appreciate this content of the human experience of other cultural groups.

            To situate and emphasize the relation of meaning to tradition John Caputo, in Act and Agent: Foundations for Moral Education and Character Development,21 notes that from its very beginnings, even before birth, one’s experience is lived in and with the bio-logical rhythms of one’s mother. Upon birth there follows a pro-gressively broader sharing in the life of parents and siblings; this is the context in which one is fully at peace, and hence most open to personal growth and social development. In a word, from its be-ginning one’s life has been historical: it has been lived in time and with other persons. In the family one’s life and learning is realized in relation to the prior life and learning of family members upon which it depends for development and orientation. This is the universal condition of each person, and consequently of the de-velopment of human awareness and knowledge.

            In terms of this phenomenological understanding interpersonal dependence is not unnatural -- quite the contrary. We depend for our being upon our creator, we are conceived in dependence upon our parents, and we are nurtured by them with care and concern. Through the years we depend continually upon our family and peers, school and community. Beyond our personal and social group we turn eagerly to other persons whom we recognize as superior, not basically in terms of their will, but in terms of their insight and judgment precisely in those matters where truth, reason and balanced judgment are required. The preeminence or authority of wise persons in the community is not something they usurp or with which they are arbitrarily endowed, but is based upon their capabilities and acknowledged in our free and reasoned response. Thus, the burden of Plato’s Republic is precisely the education of the future leader to be able to exercise authority, for while the leader who is wise but indecisive may be ineffective, the one who is decisive but foolish is bound upon destruction.

            From this notion of authority it is possible to construct that of tradition by adding to present interchange additional generations with their accumulation of human insight predicated upon the wealth of their human experience through time. As a process of trial and error, of continual correction and addition, history constitutes a type of learning and testing laboratory in which the strengths of various insights can be identified and reinforced, while their de-ficiencies are corrected and complemented. The cumulative results of the extended process of learning and testing constitute tradition. The historical and prophetical books of the Bible constitute just such an extended concrete account of one’s people’s process of discovery carried out in interaction with the divine.

            The content of a tradition serves as a model and exemplar, not because of personal inertia, but because of the corporate character of the learning by which it was built out of experience and the free and wise acts of succeeding generations in reevaluating, reaffirming, preserving and passing on what has been learned. The content of a long tradition has passed the test of countless ge-nerations. Standing, as it were, on the shoulders of our forebears, we are able to discover and evaluate situations with the help of their vision because of the sensitivity they developed and communicated to us. Without this we could not even choose topics to be in-vestigated or awaken within ourselves the desire to study those problems.22

            Tradition, then, is not simply everything that ever happened, but only what appears significant in the light of those who have appreciated and described it. Indeed, this presentation by different voices draws out its many aspects. Thus tradition is not an object in itself, but a rich source from which multiple themes can be drawn according to the motivation and interest of the inquirer. It needs to be accepted and embraced, affirmed and cultivated. Here the em-phasis is neither upon the past or the present, but upon mankind living through time.

            But neither is tradition a passive storehouse of materials to be drawn upon and shaped at the arbitrary will of the present inquirer; rather, it presents insight and wisdom that is normative for life in the present and future. Just as prudence (phronesis) without law (nomos) would be as relativistic and ineffectual as muscular action without a skeletal substructure, so law built simply upon tran-scendental or abstract vision, without taking account of historicity, would be irrelevant idealism. Hence, there is need to look into historicity to see if human action in time can engender a vision which sufficiently transcends its own time to be normative for the present and directive for the future.

            This would consist of a set of values and goals which each person should seek to realize. Its harmony of measure and fullness would suggest a way for the mature and perfect formation of persons and of mankind.23 Such a vision would be both historical and normative: historical because arising in time and presenting an appropriate way to preserve and promote human life through time; normative because presenting a basis upon which to judge past ages, present actions and options for the future. The fact of human striving manifests that every humanism, far from being indifferent, is committed to the realization of some such classical and perduring model of perfection.

            It would be erroneous, however, to consider this merely a matter of knowledge, for then it would engage, not entire peoples, but only a few whom it would divide into opposing schools. The project of a tradition is much broader and can be described only in terms of the more inclusive existential and phenomenological horizon as described Samay and Caputo in Act and Agent,24 namely, as including both body and spirit, knowledge and love. It is, in fact, the whole human dynamism of reaching out to others in striving toward ever more complete personal and social fulfillment through the realization of understanding and love, and thereby of justice and peace.

            Finally, the classical model is not drawn forward artificially by overcoming chronological distance; rather, it acts as inspiration of, and judgment upon, man’s best efforts. Through time it is the timeless mode of history. We do not construct it, but belong to it, just as it belongs to us -- for it is the ultimate community of human striving. Hence, historical and cultural self-criticism is not simply an individual act of subjectivity, but our situatedness in a tradition as this fuses in us past, present and future.25

            As mentioned in the introduction, the sense of the good or of value which constitutes tradition is required also in order to appreciate the real impact of the achievements and deformations of the present. Without tradition, present events become simply facts of the moment, succeeded by counter-facts in ever succeeding waves of contradiction. This would constitute a history written in terms of violence in which human despair would turn to a Utopian abstraction of merely human origin -- a kind of 1984 designed according to the reductive limitations of a modern rationalism.

            This stands in brutal contrast to the cumulative richness of vision acquired by peoples through the ages and embodied in the figure of a Bolivar or Lincoln, a Gandhi or Mother Theresa, or a Martin Luther King. Not mere matters of fact, but eminently free and unique as concrete universals they exemplified the above-men-tioned harmony of measure and fullness which is at once classical and historical, ideal and personal, normative and free. Living in their own times, they emerge out of history to judge and inspire peoples of all times and places.

APPLICATION: THE ADAPTATION OF A CULTURAL

            TRADITION TO CHANGING CIRCUMSTANCES

            In considering application we turn, as it were, from the whole to its parts, from tradition to its particular meaning for each new time, to ordering the present and constructing the future. This is a matter, first of all, of taking time seriously, that is, of recognizing that reality includes authentic novelty. This contrasts to the perspective of Plato for whom the real is the ideal, the forms or ideas transcending matter and time, of which physical things and temporal events are but shadows. It also goes beyond rationalism’s search for clear and distinct knowledge of eternal and simple natures and their relations. A fortiori, it goes beyond method alone without content.

            In contrast to all these, H.-G. Gadamer’s notion of appli-cation26 means that tradition, with its inherent authority or nor-mative force, achieves its perfection in the temporal unfolding of reality. Secondly, it shows human persons, not as detached in-tellects, but as inextricably enabled by, and formative of, their changing physical and social universe. Thirdly, in the area of moral values and human action it expresses directly the striving of persons to realize their lives, the orientation of this striving and its development into a fixed attitude (hexis). Hence, as distinct from the physical order ethos is a situation neither of law or of lawless-ness, but of human and therefore developing institutions and attitudes which regulate, but do not determine.27

            There are certain broad guidelines for the area of ethical know-ledge which can serve in the application of tradition as a guide for historical practice. The concrete and unique reality of human freedom when lived with others through time constitutes a distinctive and ever-changing process. This is historicity and means that our responses to the good are made always in concrete and ever changing circumstances. Hence, the general principles of ethics as a philosophic science of action must not be purely theoretical knowledge or a simple accounting from the past. Instead, they must help people exercise their conscious freedom in concrete historical circumstances which as ever changing are ever new

            Here an important distinction must be made between techné and ethics. In techné action is governed by an idea as an exemplary cause which is fully determined and known by objective theoretical knowledge (epistéme). Skill consists in knowing how to act according to that idea or plan; and when it cannot be carried out perfectly some parts of it are simply omitted in the execution.

            In ethics the situation, though similar in the possession of a practical guide and its application to a particular task, differs in im-portant ways. First, in action as moral the subject constitutes one-self, as much as one makes the object, for agents are differentiated by their action. Hence, moral knowledge as an understanding of the appropriateness of human action cannot be fully determined in-dependently of the subjects in their situation.

            Secondly, adaptation by moral agents in their application of the law does not diminish, but rather corrects and perfects the law. In a world which is only partially and generally ordered, the law cannot contain in any explicit manner the concrete possibilities which arise in history. It is precisely here that the freedom and creativity of the person is located. This does not consist in an arbitrary response, for Kant is right in saying that without law freedom has no meaning. Nor does it consist simply in an automatic response determined by the historical situation, for then deter-minism and relativism would compete for the crown in undermining human freedom. Human freedom consists rather in shaping the present according to a sense of what is just and good, and in a way which manifests and indeed creates for the first time more of what justice and goodness mean.

            Hence, the law is perfected by its application in the circu-mstances. Epoché and equity do not diminish, but perfect the law. Without them the law would be simply a mechanical replication doing the work not of justice, but of injustice. Ethics is not only knowledge of what is right in general, but the search for what is right in the situation and the choice of the right means for this situation. Knowledge regarding the means is not then a matter of mere expediency; it is the essence of the search for a more perfect application of the law in the given situation. This is the fulfillment of moral knowledge.28

            It will be important to note here that the rule of the concrete (of what the situation is asking of us) is known not by sense knowledge which simply registers a set of concrete facts. In order to know what is morally required, the situation must be understood in the light of what is right, that is, in the light of what has been discovered about appropriate human action through the tradition with its normative character. Only in this light can moral consciousness as the work of intellect, (nous) rather than of sensation, go about its job of choosing the right means.

            Hence, to proceed simply in reaction to concrete injustices as present negations of the good, rather than in the light of one’s tradition, is ultimately destructive. It inverts the order just men-tioned and results in manipulation of our hopes for the good. Destructive or repressive structures would lead us to the use of correspondingly evil means, truly suited only to producing evil results. The true response to evil can be worked out only in terms of the good as discovered by our people, passed on in tradition and applied by us in our times.

            The importance of application manifests the central role played by the virtue of prudence (phronesis) or thoughtful reflection which enables one to discover the appropriate means for the cir-cumstances. This must include also the virtue of sagacity (sunesis), that is, of understanding or concern for the other. For what is required as a guide for the agent is not only technical knowledge of an abstract ideal, but knowledge that takes account of the agent in relation to other persons. One can assess the situation adequately only inasmuch as one, in a sense, undergoes the situation with the affected parties. Thus, Aristotle rightly describes as "terrible" the one who can make the most of the situation, but without orientation towards moral ends, that is, without concern for the good of others in their situations.

            In sum, application is not a subsequent or accidental part of understanding, but co-determines this understanding from the be-ginning. Moral consciousness must seek to understand the good, not as an ideal to be known and then applied, but rather through discerning the good for concrete persons in their relations with others.

            This can contribute to sorting out the human dilemma be-tween an absolutism insensitive to persons in their concrete cir-cumstances and a relativism which leaves the person subject to expediency in public and private life. Indeed, the very statement of the dilemma reflects the deleterious aspect of the Platonic view of ideas. He was right to ground changing and historical being in the unchanging and eternal. This had been Parmenides’ first insight in metaphysics and was richly developed in relation to human action through the medieval notion of an eternal law in the divine mind. But it seems inappropriate to speak directly in these terms regarding human life. In all things individual human persons and humankind as a whole are subject to time, growth and development. As we become increasingly conscious of this the human character of even our abstract ideals becomes manifest and their adapted application in time can be seen, not as their rejection, but as their perfection. In this, justice loses none of its force as an absolute requirement of human action. Rather, the concrete modes of its application in particular circumstances add to what can be articulated in merely abstract and universal terms. A hermeneutic approach directs attention precisely to these unfoldings of the meaning of abstract principles through time. This is not an abandonment of absolutes, but a recognition of the human condition and of the way in which this enriches our knowledge of the principles of human life.

            What then should we conclude regarding this sense of the good which mankind has discovered, in which we have been raised, which gives us dominion over our actions, and which enables us to be free and creative? Does it come from God or from man, from eternity or from history? Chakravarti Rajagopalachari of Madras answered:

Whether the epics and songs of a nation spring from the faith and ideas of the common folk, or whether a nation’s faith and ideas are produced by its literature is a question which one is free to answer as one likes. . . . Did clouds rise from the sea or was the sea filled by waters from the sky? All such inquiries take us to the feet of God tran-scending speech and thought.29

INTERPRETATION AS INTERACTION BETWEEN

            CULTURAL TRADITIONS

            Thus far we have treated the character and importance of tradition. This bears the long experience of persons interacting with this world, with other persons and with God. It is made up not only of chronological facts, but of insights regarding human perfection which have been forged by human efforts in concrete circum-stances, e.g., the Greek notion of democracy and the enlighten-ment notions of equality and freedom. By their internal value these stand as normative of the aspirations of a people.

            Secondly, we have seen the implications of historicity for novelty in the context of tradition, the continually unfolding cir-cumstances of historical development, and the way in which these not merely extend or repeat what went before but constitute an emerging manifestation of the dynamic character of the vision articulated by the art, religion, literature and political structures of a cultural tradition. But the question arises, how can earlier sources which express the great achievements of human awareness be understood in a way that is relevant, indicative, and directive of our life in present circumstances? In a word, how can we draw out the significance of tradition for present action?

            First it is necessary to note that only a unity of meaning, that is, an identity, is intelligible.30 Just as it is not possible to understand a number three if we include but two units rather than three, no act of understanding is possible unless it is directed to an identity or whole of meaning. This brings us to the classic issue, described above as the hermeneutic circle, in which knowledge of the whole depends upon knowledge of the parts, and vice versa. How can we make this work for, rather than against us?

            The experience of reading a text might help. As we read we construe the meaning of a sentence before grasping all its indivi-dual parts. What we construe is dependent upon our expectation of the meaning of the sentence which we derived from its first words, the prior context, or more likely a combination of the two. In turn, our expectation or construal of the meaning of the text is adjusted according to the requirements of its various parts as we proceed to read through the parts of the sentence, the paragraph, etc., con-tinually reassessing the whole in terms of the parts and the parts in terms of the whole. This basically circular movement continues until all appears to fit and to be clear.

            Similarly, as we begin to look into our tradition we develop a prior conception of its content. This anticipation of meaning is not simply of the tradition as an objective or fixed content to which we come; it is rather what we produce as we participate in the evolution of the tradition, and thereby further determine ourselves. This is a creative stance reflecting the content, not only of the past, but of the time in which I stand and of the life project in which I am engaged. It is a creative unveiling of the content of the tradition as this comes progressively and historically into the present and, through the present, passes into the future.

            In this light, time is not a barrier, a separation or an abyss, but rather a bridge and opportunity for the process of understanding, a fertile ground filled with experience, custom and tradition. The importance of the historical distance it provides is not that this enables the subjective reality of persons to disappear so that the objectivity of the situation can emerge. On the contrary, it makes possible a more complete meaning of the tradition, less by re-moving falsifying factors, than by opening new sources of self-understanding which reveal in the tradition unsuspected implica-tions and even new dimensions of meaning.31

            Of course, not all our acts of understanding are correct, whether they be about the meaning of a text from another culture, a dimension of a shared tradition, a set of goals or a plan for future action. Hence, it becomes particularly important that they not be adhered to fixedly, but be put at risk in dialogue with others.

            In this the basic elements of meaning remains the sub-stances which Aristotle described in terms of autonomy and, by implication, of identity. Hermeneutics would expand this to reflect as well the historical and hermeneutic situation of each person in the dialogue, that is, their horizon or particular possibility for under-standing: an horizon is all that can be seen from one’s vantage point(s). In reading a text or in a dialoguing with others it is ne-cessary to be aware of our horizon as well as of that of others. It is precisely when our initial projection of the meaning of a text (another’s words or the content of a tradition) will not bear up under the progressive dialogue that we are required to adjust our pro-jection of their meaning.

            This enables us to adjust not only our prior understanding of the horizon of the other with whom we are in dialogue, but especially our own horizon. Hence, one need not fear being trapped in one’s horizons. They are vantage points of a mind which in prin-ciple is open and mobile, capable of being aware of its own horizon and of transcending it through acknowledging the horizons of others. The flow of history implies that we are not bound by our horizons, but move in and out of them. It is in making us aware of our horizons that hermeneutic consciousness accomplishes our liberation.32

            In this process it is important that we retain a questioning attitude. We must not simply follow through with our previous ideas until a change is forced upon us, but be sensitive to new meanings in true openness. This is neither neutrality as regards the meaning of the tradition, nor an extinction of passionate concern for actions towards the future. Rather, being aware of our own biases or prejudices and adjusting them in dialogue with others implies re-jecting what impedes our understanding of others, of texts or of traditions. Our attitude in approaching dialogue must be one of willingness continually to revise our initial projection or expectation of meaning.

            There is then a way out of the hermeneutic cycle. It is not by ignoring or denying our horizons and prejudices, but by recognizing them as inevitable and making them work for us. To do so we must direct our attention to the objective meaning of the text in order to draw out, not its meaning for the author, but its application for the present. Through this process of application we serve as midwife for the historicity of a text, tradition or culture and enable it to give birth to the future.33

METHOD OF QUESTION AND ANSWER

            The effort to draw upon a text or a tradition and in dialogue to discover its meaning for the present supposes authentic openness. The logical structure of this openness is to be found in the exchange of question and answer. The question is required in order to determine just what issue we are engaging in order to direct our attention. Without this no meaningful answer can be given or received. As a question, however, it requires that the answer not be settled or determined. In sum, progress or discovery requires an openness which is not simply indeterminacy, but a question which gives specific direction to our attention and enables us to consider significant evidence. (Note that we can proceed not only by means of positive evidence for one of two possible responses, but also through dissolving counter arguments).

            If discovery depends upon the question, then the art of discovery is the art of questioning. Consequently, whether working alone or in conjunction with others, our effort to find the answer should be directed less towards suppressing, than toward re-inforcing and unfolding the question. To the degree that its pro-babilities are built up and intensified it can serve as a searchlight. This is the opposite of both opinion which tends to suppress questions, and of arguing which searches out the weakness in the other’s argument. Instead, in conversation as dialogue one enters upon a mutual search to maximize the possibilities of the question, even by speaking at cross purposes. By mutually eliminating errors and working out a common meaning we discover truth.34

            Further, it should not be presupposed that the text holds the answer to but one question or horizon which must be identified by the reader. On the contrary, the full horizon of the author is never available to the reader, nor can it be expected that there is but one question to which the text or tradition holds an answer. The sense of the text reaches beyond what the author intended; because of the dynamic character of being as it emerges in time, the horizon is never fixed but continually opens. This constitutes the effective historical element in understanding a text or a tradition. At each step new dimensions of its potentialities open to understanding; the meaning of a text or tradition lives with the consciousness and hence the horizons -- not of its author -- but of persons in history. It is the broadening of their horizons, resulting from their fusion with the horizon of a text or a partner in dialogue, that makes it possible to receive answers which are ever new.35

            In this one’s personal attitudes and interests are, once again, most important. If our interest in developing new horizons is simply the promotion of our own understanding then we could be in-terested solely in achieving knowledge, and thereby domination over others. This would lock one into an absoluteness of one’s pre-judices, for being fixed or closed in the past they would disallow new life in the present. In this manner powerful new insights can become with time deadening pre-judgments which suppress freedom.

            In contrast, an attitude of authentic openness appreciates the nature of one’s own finiteness. On this basis it both respects the past and is open to discerning the future. Such openness is a matter, not merely of new information, but of recognizing the historical nature of man. It enables us to escape from what had deceived us and held us captive, and enables us to learn from new experiences. For example, recognition of the limitations of our finite planning enables us to see that the future is still open.36

            This suggests that openness consists not so much in sur-veying others objectively or obeying them in a slavish and un-questioning manner, but is directed primarily to ourselves. It is an extension of our ability to listen to others, and to assimilate the implications of their answers for changes in our own positions. In other words, it is an acknowledgment that the cultural heritage has something new to say to us. The characteristic hermeneutic attitude of effective historical consciousness is then not method-ological sureness, but readiness for experience.37 Seen in these terms our heritage is not closed, but the basis for a life that is ever new, more inclusive, and more rich.

            From this what emerges is that a culture is the creation of a people’s freedom through time. It is the condition for their living humanely as the exercise freedom in time and building thereby a life worthy of themselves with others. This then is not a matter for suppression, indeed its suppression would unleash upon the world a dehumanized horde.

RELIGION AS A CULTURAL PHENOMENON

            It remains now to look at the character and role of religion from the perspective of an anthropology as a hermeneutic science. Geertz defines religion as

(1) a system of symbols which acts to (2) establish powerful, pervasive, and long-lasting moods and motivations in men by (3) formulating conceptions of a general order of existence and (4) clothing these conceptions with such an aura of actuality that (5) the moods and motivations seem uniquely realistic.38

            In this formulation Geertz builds progressively to identify the level of insight, to identify the characteristic moods and motiva-tions, to ground these in a religions sense of reality and then to align all three in an act which is simultaneously one of insight conviction, and commitment. Following Geertz, let us look in greater detail at the elements of his definition.

            (1) Religion is a set of symbols. Symbols are concrete embodiments of ideas, attitudes etc. They are models for function by providing sources of information in terms of which other non-symbolic processes can be patterned. Thus, they serve as temp-lates for producing reality. But especially cultural patterns are models of the non-symbolic processes which they represent, express and render intelligible in a different medium. In this sense doctrines and rites "give meaning or objective conceptual form, to social and psychological reality both by shaping themselves to it and by shaping it to themselves."39 Geertz sees the essence of human thought as the perception of the congruence between these two sets of processes one serving as a program or symbol of the other as programmed.

            (2) Religion establishes pervasive, and long-tasting moods and motivations in men. Motivations are directional in character and hence have their meaning in terms of the ends towards which they point. Moods, lead nowhere but pervade all; their meaning re-flects the conditions from which they arise. Thus charity is religious motivation when it is enclosed in a conception of God’s purposes; hope is a religious mood when grounded in a conception of the divine nature.40

            (3) Religion does this by formulating conceptions of a general order of existence. The emerging appreciation of the importance of meaning enables us to see, in turn, the importance of symbols and cultural patterns. Without these we would be functionally in-complete, "a formless monster with neither sense of direction nor power of self-control, a chaos of spasmodic impulses and vague emotions."41 This threat appears especially in three forms: mean-inglessness, suffering and evil.

            First, we are deeply disquieted by questions regarding the ability of received cultural patterns or myths, no matter how im-probable if taken literally rather than symbolically, to enable us to understand our world. These set ordinary experience in a broader metaphysical context lest we "be adrift in an absurd world." This disquiet reflects our mega-concern, namely, regarding what it is to be human and whether our existence, and indeed existence itself, is intelligible, makes sense and has meaning.

            A second point of central concern is suffering and evil. This is the affective correlate of the above problem of meaning. Here re-ligion faces not the question of how suffering can be dismissed, but rather of how it can be faced and endured. This is done ritually by placing the suffering in a context in which it can be expressed, hence understood, and thus endured by ordering our emotions.42

            Thirdly, the problem of evil raises a challenge not only to our emotions, but more deeply to the adequacy of our culture and its symbolic structure to provide the ethical criteria needed to rule our action. How is one to bridge the gap between things as they are and as they ought to be?

            In all these three dimensions of the understanding, emotional response and moral action the role of religion is not to deny that something are unexplained, painful and unjust, but to deny that life as such is inexplicable, unendurable or unjust.43 Religious sym-bolism enables both this affirmation of ignorance, pain and injustice which denying that such are the supreme characteristics of reality as a whole.

            (4) Religion clothes these conceptions in an aura of special actuality. The existence of the above-noted bafflement before the unexplained, suffering and injustice drives one toward belief in gods, totems and the like, but is not the basis for their beliefs. One must believe in order to understand ("crede ut intelligas", Au-gustine). What then is the religious perspective and how is it adopted?

            Geertz contrasts the religious to the common sense and the scientific perspectives. In the former things appear as givens to be accepted and acted upon pragmatically. These realities need to be situated in the wider perspective accepted in faith. The scientific perspective is marked by systematic doubt and inquiry, whereas the religious perspective is characterized by non-hypothetical truths, by commitment rather than detachment, and by encounter rather than analysis.44 Thus Geertz sees the essence of religious actions as imbuing with persuasive authority a complex of symbols along with the metaphysics they formulate and the style of life they recommend.

            It is in ritual as consecrated behavior that the conviction in the soundness of religious conceptions and directives is generated. The ceremonial brings together the moods and motivations induced by sacred symbols with general conceptions of the order of existence; "the world as lived and the world as imagined (are) fused under the agency of a single set of symbolic forms (and) turn out to be the same world."45 This fusion of dispositional ethos and conceptual worldview is had especially in "the more elaborate cere-monies. For the outside observer these are only presentations of a particular religious perspective, subject to scientific analysis and aesthetic appreciation, but for participants they are also its en-actment, materialization and realization. Such ceremonies are not only models of but models for in which "men attain their faith as they portray it."46 By inducing a set of moods and motivations -- an ethos -- and defining an image of cosmic order -- a world view -- by means of a single set of symbols, the performance of the ceremony or ritual readers religious belief as model for and model of true trans-positions one of the other.

            (5) Religion thus renders the moods and motivations uniquely realistic. Because our life is lived in the everyday world of common sense and practical acts, the impact of religious rituals have their greatest human impact in reflecting back and coloring the in-dividual’s conception of the ordinary world. The sociological in-terest in this is not as a description of the social order, but -- along with political power, personal affection, etc. -- as shaping that order.

            Geertz would stress the movement back and forth between the religious perspective experienced especially in rituals, which engulf the total person transporting him or her into another mode of existence, and the common sense perspective lived in the midst of everyday life. This is recognized by religions in setting special times for prayer, through the year, at the beginning and of each day, the noon "Angelus" or the five prayer times of Islamic practice. Without recognition of this transition back and forth life comes to be read reductivistically either as simply spiritual or simply material, neither of which is self-sufficient.

            This passing back and forth does not mean, however, that the life is alternately purely religious or purely secular. The common sense world when seen in the context of the wider reality is changed, completed and corrected. Placing ordinary acts in ultimate context alters radically one’s outlook on life in its entirety so that religiously induced moods and motivations come to be considered supremely practical, and indeed the only sensible ones in view of the religious understanding of how things really are. It can be said that what men believe is what they are, and vice versa, and if this is a radically personal act, then the impact of religion upon personal and social systems is infinitely varied. This excludes general conclusions regarding the value of religion in moral or fun-ctional terms.

            The significance of religion in terms of anthropology or ethnology lies in its capacity to serve individuals or groups, on the one hand, as a model of general yet distinctive concepts of the world, the self and the relations between the two, and, on the other hand, as a model for rooted "mental" dispositions, from which cultural functions flow other social and psychological ones.47 Be-yond or, more correctly, through their direct metaphysical context religious concepts provide a general framework which lends meaningful form to our intellectual, moral, emotional and moral experiences. This is not only a matter of interpreting social and psychological processes. Even more, it is a matter of shaping these by setting them in a sense of what is "really real". The derivative dispositions then color one’s sense of what is reasonable, practical, human and moral. Anthropology thus has two tasks with regard to religion: first, analyzing "the systems of meaning embodied in the symbols which make up the religions, and, second, relating these systems to socio-cultural and psychological processes."48

            For the issue of scriptural faith and ethic conflict, the above would appear to open a number of distinct roads for analysis and hence for response. Anthropological analysis identifies four issues at play: (a) the nature of the "really real" and hence of all derivative reality (b) the pervasive mood set by religion, (c) its motivational power, and (d) the relation of all these to the concrete circum-stances of everyday life.

            (a) If the religious view consists in seeing all in terms of an ultimate "really real", the scriptural faith agree that this is an absolute and good creator and goal of all. Frithjof Shoun senses a certain difference in emphasis in appreciating the absolute: an Islamic stress upon unity, a Jewish stress upon truth, and a Christian stress upon love. The three are mutually complementary -- indeed technically convertible such that the true is the good and vice versa -- in such wise that the three scriptural faith experiences should be complementary and mutually enriching. The metaphysics of this relation of the transcendental properties of being is important for overcoming conflict which arises from less adequate conceptions that might allow them to appear conflictual rather than complementary.

            (b) If mood is generated by the conditions in which it arises then it is important that these conditions be religious, that is, predicated upon a sense of reality as ultimately and hence radically unified, just and good. This requires that the sense of religion be lively. It requires further that its implications be universal or ex-tended to include all humankind and indeed physical nature as well. This sense can -- indeed must -- come from within in ethnic culture but must reach out beyond it to include the "other".

            (c) Given the motivating power of a culture, Geertz does not see violent clashes between ethnic or cultural groups as being due to a lessening of cultural identity for that would result rather in confusion and passivity. Violent ethnic conflict would appear to be due rather to the sense of cultural identity being situated in circumstance where its motivational and mood generating power are misdirected. "Social conflict is not something that happens when, out of weakness, indefiniteness, obsolescence, or neglect, cultural forms cease to operate, but rather something that happens when . . . such forms are pressed by unusual situations or unusual intentions to operate in unusual ways."49

            This suggests the importance of (d), namely, the relation of the religious to the circumstances of daily life. It was noted that one does not live entirely or simply in one or the other dimension, but moves back and forth carrying messages from one to the other. As the order of reality bespeaks the primacy of the absolute or creator over the creature, it is for the latter to be modeled on the former as one, just and loving, rather them vice versa, that is, rather than modelling the divine on the multiple and hence potentially con-flictual created world.

            The above analysis of tradition and hermeneutic interpretation suggested that the relation between cultural groups and scrip-tural faiths is not a matter of compromise or of attenuation of one’s religion or of the culture that reflects it. Rather, it is the real op-portunity to deepen that religious commitment, unfold its meaning, and live it afresh in our days.

            But these are new insights, their realization does not follow automatically. If the situations and intentions are unusual that press the religious culture to operate in unusual ways, then the challenge to be faithful to the religious roots of one’s cultural identity requires acute analysis of the situation and creative appreciation of one’s religious tradition. Only thus will it be possible to fashion an ap-propriate response to present challenges and to realize the spiritual growth needed to respond to religious motivation and set the mood required for cooperation. In this in the words of President Kennedy remain true: "in this world God’s work is truly man’s own."

NOTES

            1. Susan Langer, Philosophy in a New Key (Cambridge, Mass.: 1960).

            2. E. B. Tylor, Primitive Culture VII (London, 1871), p. 7.

            3. Alfred L. Kroeber and Clyde Kluckhohn, Culture: A Critical Review of Concepts and Definitions (Millwood, N.Y.: Kraus Reprint, 1978), p. 357.

            4. Clifford Geertz, The Interpretation of Cultures (London: Hutchinson, 1973), p. 5.

            5. Ibid., 10.

            6. Ibid., p. 13.

            7. Ibid., 85.

            8. Mortimer J. Adler, The Idea of Freedom: A Dialectical Examination of the Conceptions of Freedom (Garden City, New York: Doubleday, 1958), p. 187.

            9. The Theory of Justice, (Cambridge: Harvard Univ. Press, 1971).

            10. An Essay Concerning Human Understanding, A.C. Fraser, ed. (New York: Dover, 1959), II, ch. 21, sec 27; vol. I, 329.

            11. Skeptical Essays (London: Allen & Unwin, 1952), p. 169.

            12. See The Idea of Freedom, p. 187.

            13. J.S. Mill, On Liberty, ch. 5, p. 15.

            14. Adler, p. 193.

            15. John Rawls, Theory of Justice, op. cit.

            16. Richard E. Palmer, Hermeneutics (Evanston: Northwestern Univ. Press, 1969), pp. 12-29.

            17. Ivor Leclerc, "The Metaphysics of the Good," Review of Metaphysics, 35 (1981), 3-5. See also Vocabulaire technique et critique de la philosophie, ed. André Lalande (Paris: PUF, 1956), pp. 1182-1186.

            18. J. Mehta, Martin Heidegger, The Way and the Vision (Honolulu: Univ. of Hawaii Press, 1967), pp. 90-91.

            19. Hesiod, Theogony, trans. H.G. Everland-White (Loeb Classical Library) (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard Univ. Press, 1964), p. 85.

            20. Aristotle, Metaphysics, I, 2.

            21. R. Carnap, Vienna Manifesto, trans. A. Blumberg in G. Kreyche and J. Mann, Perspectives on Reality (New York: Harcourt, Brace and World, l966), p. 485.

            22. R. Descartes, Discourse on Method, I.

            23. H.G. Gadamer, Truth and Method (New York: Crossroads, 1975), pp. 240, 246-247, 305-310.

            24. John Dewey, Existence as Precarious and Stable; see J. Mann & G. Kreyche, Perspectives on Reality (New York: Harcourt, Brace and World, l966), p. 379.

            25. G. McLean et al., eds. (Washington: The Council for Research in Values and Philosophy and The University Press of America, 1986).

            26. H.G. Gadamer, Truth and Method. op.cit., pp. 281-286.

            27. Ibid., pp. 278-279.

            28. Ibid., pp. 281-286.

            29. Ramayana (Bombay: Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan, 1976), p. 312.

            30. Gadamer, p. 262.

            31. Ibid., pp. 263-264.

            32. Ibid., pp. 235-242, 267-271.

            33. Ibid., pp. 225-332.

            34. Ibid., pp. 336-340.

            35. Ibid., pp. 327-334.

            36. Ibid., pp. 324-325.

            37. Ibid., p. 90.

            38. Clifford Geertz, The Interpretation of Cultures (London: Hutchinson, 1973), p. 98.

            39. Ibid., p. 99.

            40. Ibid.

            41. Ibid., 105

            42. Ibid., p. 108.

            43. Ibid., pp. 111-112.

            44. Ibid.

            45. Ibid., p. 114.

            46. Ibid., p. 123.

            47. Ibid., p. 125.

            48. Ibid., p. 28.

            49. Ibid.