Twenty-First Century Inequalities over Frosted Flakes

Does history move in waves? So that there are times of flattening—of incredible similarity—and then a period of fracture and disparity. Even amidst so much anti-imperial conflict, didn’t the 1950s and ‘60s speak of so much similarity—or a strange kind of equality, related to access. Is that not what made anti-imperial uprisings possible? as AG Hopkins has argued—empire was no longer useful or efficient in providing global connections. Are we in a period now of similar flattening? Can anyone predict where the hierarchy will emerge from and what will be its effects? From China, from India? And are we prepared.

Certainly the west can no longer afford to be arrogant—and the better educated, the better one is able to have some purchase on this ongoing political, cultural and economic negotiation. --> Perhaps rather than flattening these would be better described as periods of global negotiation. – From my journal, 20 September 2009

The above journal entry is among the clearer samples of my thoughts while in Cairo. Operating under the strong conviction that no country is immune to the kinds of problems I observed in Egypt, particularly those of severe and widespread poverty – I tried to wrap my mind around the awkward balance between difference and similarity to the West that I observed.

Similarities are easy to spot. Cairo is a cosmopolitan city. Walking around, one would see the influences of a variety cultures. Shopping on the street or in the mall, goods from nearly every corner of the planet are accessible, for a price, of course. For that matter, the city’s new mall City Stars (the biggest mall in Africa) has such high end stores that I heard several Americans comment that it was simply too expensive to shop there. Some of these same people did describe going there when they felt homesick, however. I heard one American friend say that after in 14 years in Egypt, this was the best time to live there—at least when it came to accessing goods, she qualified herself.

For those who arrived with hopes that Egypt would be an escape from the familiar, however, Cairo’s modern conveniences were frustrating. One friend of mine regularly commented that she wished she and her husband had moved to the Sudan instead of Cairo, so that they could be further removed from Western culture. These sentiments made me somewhat uncomfortable. If it was normal for an American to want sugary cereal, was it somehow unauthentic for an Egyptian to want the same thing? In fact, the average Egyptian’s love for sugar rivals any American I know (of course my observations provide only anecdotal evidence). Many Egyptians add sugar to their children’s milk, much to the detriment of their teeth, which across classes go largely un-brushed (There are whole aid efforts devoted to teaching basic oral hygiene—I do not think it is inaccurate to say Egypt has a dentistry problem). So just at a moment of potential similarity—a seemingly shared human love for sugar—a myriad of differences resurface, and in describing them, Egyptians again appear reliant on Western knowledge. My thoughts regularly ran in these kinds of circles. Am I looking for an Egyptian advantage that will even the score? Perhaps. If so, I am then forced to ask—what is Egyptian and what is Western? Isn’t stable authenticity more myth than reality?

If there is a resolution to this awkward tension between similarity and difference, I have not found it, and what is more, it does not need to exist. The tension makes it interesting. The foreigners I met have each come to their own peace with the disparities around them—between classes of Egyptian society, between Egypt and the world, between their culture and the one that surrounds them. My study of history prevents me from placing a clear label on “progress,” thus complicating my plot because I can’t prescribe a particular goal for Egypt.

My questions and frustrations did confirm how I think about myself as a historian, however. In my first year of graduate school we had discussed how historians often fall into two categories: lumpers, who think in terms of broad similarities, and pickers, who look for differences. I find myself a content lumper – always ready to stave off judgment or definition if there is a chance for some sort of common ground. The risk might be that my thoughts tend towards a romantic notion of our shared humanity – an identity I don’t think we can all really agree upon. Even there, my tendency is to lump humans together for the sake of their continuous disagreement. Ultimately, I think I prefer this tension to some straightforward description of supposed have’s and have not’s. Historically the solutions based on such assumptions seem to carry the potential for too much destruction. On the other hand, too much lumping risks making drawing milk-toast conclusions that don’t have much bearing on reality. And so my cyclical thoughts begin again… Certainly I am more comfortable with tension than resolution.