CNN Newsroom: Global View

home *** CD-ROM | disk | FTP | other *** search

/ CNN Newsroom: Global View / CNN Newsroom: Global View.iso / txt / fsj / fsj0991.001 < prev next >

Wrap

Text File | 1994-05-02 | 13KB | 266 lines

<text> <title> Understanding Time and Shame in the Arab World </title> <article> <hdr> Foreign Service Journal, September 1991 Bridging the Gulf: Understanding Time, Shame, and Negotiations in the Arab World </hdr> <body> By David Fredrick. Mr. Fredrick is a Foreign Service officer currently serving as Bangladesh desk officer in the Bureau for Asia and Private Enterprise, Agency for International Development. What differentiates Western, Judaeo-Christian cultures from those of the Arab, Muslim world? Major differences demarcate these cultural groups in language, theology, concept of family, the role of religion in governing, and in social and political structures. These differences shape attitudes, which generate behavioral patterns. Herman Kahn described the Vietnam war as a friction point in the meeting of Asian and Western cultures. So, too, has the last half of this century been a period of strain between the great Muslim and Judaeo-Christian cultures, attenuated by mass education and mass communications. At stake are massive capital flows, energy supplies, regional and global stability, and even world peace. Cross-cultural human relationships, whether formal or informal, reduce the friction, but the success or failure of such interpersonal negotiations hinges on each culture's perceptions of its responsibilities. How do Arabs see us, and how do we see them? The Arab Muslim accepts life as largely fated, with small margin for current human influence. The Western Judaeo-Christian, by contrast, sees the past as prelude to the present, with great scope for human action and change. How do the two societies define personal responsibility? To begin finding an answer, let's take a brief look at cross-cultural concepts of personal responsibility as revealed in differing attitudes toward time, shame, and negotiations. Cultural clockwork At my first Arab country of assignment, I set about establishing contact with Arab Muslims. Regardless of whether meetings were set at my office or theirs, meetings never occurred on time. At first, I thought it was because I was junior and new, but as I stayed 10 years consecutively in the Arab world, I learned that this was a way of life. I soon also learned to carry an unread newspaper or book in my briefcase, so that I could be a model of patience as I waited. The dean of the Faculty of Arts and Letters was an important new contact who might help place professors. I presumed he would also provide insights about cultural contrasts, too, since he had done his PhD in English literature in the United States. He was delighted to hear from me. When I asked what time we should meet, he paused, and said, "You are an American, so it would be so nice to have an American meeting; let's meet at 8:30 a.m." There is an old story that circulates in the United States Information Agency about arranging identically scheduled visits to the United States for representatives from Germany and from an Arab, Islamic country. The German looks at the schedule and says, "Why have you left so much free time?" The Arab looks and says, "You've over-programmed me. There is not time for me to put my new information into perspective." For the Arab, time is a vessel that should never be completely filled. One must always leave time for serendipity, for the opportunities that are revealed, thanks be to God, outside the ordering of human agency. Yiftur is the meal that breaks the fast during the month of Ramadan. The meal begins exactly at sundown. The definition of sunset is not left to chance: a local religious leader determines the exact time, and the civil authority sets off a cannon round, so that everyone knows it is time to eat. It can be very dangerous to be driving in the 10-15 minutes just before the cannon goes off. The breaking of the fast is a feast, with special and sumptuous foods and drinks. The universal Muslim favorite is herrera, a soup of lentils. Other standard fare includes boiled eggs, buttermilk, figs, dates, honied cookies, and candies. One year, we hosted a yiftur to which we invited a minister, an under secretary, three staff members, three American colleagues, and spouses. All had said they were coming, but in the Foreign Service, you're never quite sure. By 7:15, everyone but the minister and his wife had shown up, and they were walking around rubbing their hands in anticipation of breaking fast. I went out of the compound to the street to wait for the minister, knowing that he might have trouble finding our place. It was almost time, and I knew the cannon would soon go off, and what should we do--eat or wait for the minister? I saw a black car turn down the street, and sure enough it was he and his wife--thank God! He got out of the car just as the cannon went off. I greeted him and his wife, saying how honored we were that he had come to our poor home. He said, laughing, "I have never had a yiftur in a Westerner's home, and I would not miss this for anything. Why would a Westerner do such a thing?" I responded, smiling, "Why, it is the only way that I can be sure that a Moroccan will arrive for a meal on time!" Laughing uproariously, he said, "That's true and that is a very good reason." Doing the right thing Arabs pride themselves on having a keen sense of doing the right thing at the right time. If I had a meeting with an Arab for a set time and something else more important came up, the Arab would be late or not show; I was expected not to take this as an insult or slight. Something came up that had to be done; this was a determination of God and fate. At first, I pressed people for explanations of why they had offended me in this way. Slowly, I learned that it was normal. Once, when the king of Morocco went to visit the queen of England, he was one hour late for his meeting with her. The British still have not gotten over this. Time for Western and strongly Westernized societies is the framework upon which we arrange our personal and professional lives and through which we order our goals and priorities. For some Arab, Islamic societies, time is rather more the fluid medium in which fates play out, as the will of God becomes apparent. Calculated delay is one of the Muslim Arab's most frequently employed interpersonal skills. (I have learned to do it a bit myself but must employ the practice very cautiously, since, no matter how much exposure Arabs have to Westerners and Westerners to Arabs, attitudes toward time are deeply ingrained.) The past is prologue People who are in a hurry often leapfrog past negotiation opportunities in Muslim, Arab cultures. For the Western, Judaeo-Christian participant, action is often taken to promote an envisioned future; we impatiently anticipate destiny. For the Arab participant, however, action is to be taken in the context of the half-obscured designs of fate, so prorogation generates security. Hold on, move slowly, so that more information becomes manifest. So, when we go to lunch, negotiate a lease, elaborate a five-year plan, or make peace in the Arab world, let's take a book along and try to remember everybody is just trying to do the right thing at the right time. Guilt is a key motivation in the Judaeo-Christian world. Impoverished nations often play upon this tendency, telling Westerners that they must help poor people by subsidizing food prices in the poor country, leaving it unsaid that if we don't we will be responsible for destitution and deaths. A crossculturally knowledgeable Arab Muslim can project such guilt upon us, but we cannot project guilt into Arab, Islamic society. An Arab Muslim believes all that passes in this earthly life is the will of God; how could he blame himself, a mere human, for even the smallest state of human affairs? The cultural difference is between personal responsibility and personal obligation. Yet, the Occ