"Why do they hate us?"
moultano
Creator of ns_shiva. Join Date: 2002-12-14 Member: 10806Members, NS1 Playtester, Contributor, Constellation, NS2 Playtester, Squad Five Blue, Reinforced - Shadow, WC 2013 - Gold, NS2 Community Developer, Pistachionauts
Creator of ns_shiva. Join Date: 2002-12-14 Member: 10806Members, NS1 Playtester, Contributor, Constellation, NS2 Playtester, Squad Five Blue, Reinforced - Shadow, WC 2013 - Gold, NS2 Community Developer, Pistachionauts
in Discussions
<div class="IPBDescription">good article from the washington post.</div><a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/07/20/AR2007072001806.html?hpid=opinionsbox1" target="_blank">http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/conte...id=opinionsbox1</a>
<!--quoteo--><div class='quotetop'>QUOTE</div><div class='quotemain'><!--quotec-->Why Do They Hate Us?'
By Mohsin Hamid
Sunday, July 22, 2007; B01
LONDON Recently, I found myself in Dallas, a place I'd never been before. As a Muslim writer, I felt about going there pretty much the way an American writer might have felt about heading to the tribal areas of Pakistan: nervous, with the distinct suspicion that the locals carried guns and weren't too fond of folks who look like me.
So I was surprised by the extraordinary hospitality I encountered on my trip. And I still remember the politeness with which one elderly gentleman addressed me in a bookshop. He held a copy of my latest novel, "The Reluctant Fundamentalist," and examined the face on its cover, comparing it to mine. Then he said, nodding once as if to dip the brim of an imaginary hat: "So tell me, sir. Why do they hate us?"
That stopped me cold. I've spent almost half my life in the United States, arriving from Lahore, Pakistan, with my parents in 1974 when I was 3 after my father was accepted to a PhD program at Stanford. I learned to sing "The Star-Spangled Banner" years before I could sing the Pakistani national anthem, played baseball before I could play cricket and wrote in English before I could write in Urdu. My earliest memories are of watching "Star Trek" and "MASH" while my parents barbecued chicken in the back yard. I was an American kid, through and through. Part of me still is.
But when I was 9, I moved back to where I came from. And because where I came from was Pakistan and I was about as all-American as a foreign-born brown boy could be, my perspective a quarter-century later on the question of why "they" hate "us" is perhaps a little more textured than most.
For one thing, part of me identifies with "they" and part with "us." For another, growing up in Pakistan in the 1980s let me see firsthand the devastating effects that the best of U.S. intentions can have.
Talk about why so many Muslims hate the United States these days, and you'll hear plenty of self-flagellation, at least in some quarters of post-9/11 America. I have too much affection for the United States to join in. These people make up the "We deserve to be hated because we're bad" school of thought, which is simplistic and unhelpful. It is simplistic because there are 300 million different components of the "we" that is America. And it is unhelpful because it ignores so much that is good about the nation.
Part of the reason people abroad resent the United States is something Americans can do very little about: envy. The richest, most powerful country in the world attracts the jealousy of others in much the same way that the richest, most powerful man in a small town attracts the jealousy of others. It will come his way no matter how kind, generous or humble he may be.
But there is another major reason for anti-Americanism: the accreted residue of many years of U.S. foreign policies. These policies are unknown to most Americans. They form only minor footnotes in U.S. history. But they are the chapter titles of the histories of other countries, where they have had enormous consequences. America's strength has made it a sort of Gulliver in world affairs: By wiggling its toes it can, often inadvertently, break the arm of a Lilliputian.
When my family moved back to Pakistan, I was given a front-row seat from which to observe one such obscure episode. In 1980, Lahore was a sleepy and rather quiet place. Pakistan's second-largest city was still safe enough for a 9-year-old to hop on his bicycle and ride around unsupervised.
But that was about to change. Soviet troops had recently rolled into Afghanistan, and the U.S. government, concerned about Afghanistan's proximity to the oil-rich Persian Gulf and eager to avenge the humiliating debacle of the Vietnam War, decided to respond. Building on President Jimmy Carter's tough line, President Ronald Reagan offered billions of dollars in economic aid and sophisticated weapons to Pakistan's dictator, Gen. Mohammed Zia ul-Haq. In exchange, Zia supported the mujaheddin, the Afghan guerrillas waging a modern-day holy war against the Soviet occupation. With the help of the CIA, jihadist training camps sprung up in the tribal areas of Pakistan. Soon Kalashnikov assault rifles from those camps began to flood the streets of Lahore, setting in motion a crime wave that put an end to my days of pedaling unsupervised through the streets.
Meanwhile, Zia began an ongoing attempt to Islamize Pakistan and thus make it a more fertile breeding ground for the anti-Soviet jihad. Public female dance performances were banned, female newscasters were told to cover their heads and laws undermining women's rights were passed. Secular politicians, academics and journalists were intimidated, imprisoned and worse.
One part of this was particularly unpleasant for those of us entering our teens: the angry groups of bearded men who began enforcing their own morality codes. They made going on dates risky, even in a fun-loving city such as Lahore. Meanwhile, a surge of cheap heroin -- the currency often used to buy the allegiance of Afghan warlords -- meant that Pakistan went from having virtually no addicts when I was 9 to having more than a million by the time I completed high school, according to a lecture that a U.S. drug-enforcement official gave at my school.
People all over the world talk about how things were better when they were young. In Lahore, we got into the habit of talking about how they were better last month.
In 1988, Zia died in a suspicious plane crash. The Soviets were driven out of Afghanistan in 1989, shortly before I left Lahore for college in the United States. When I mentioned the final campaign of the Cold War to my fellow freshmen at Princeton, few seemed to know much about it. Eighteen years later, most people I meet in the United States are astounded to learn that the period ever occurred. But in Pakistan, it is vividly seared into the national memory. Indeed, it has torn the very fabric of what, when I was born, was a relatively liberal country with nightclubs, casinos and legal alcohol.
The residue of U.S. foreign policy coats much of the world. It is the other part of the answer to the question, "Why do they hate us?" Simply because America has -- often for what seemed good reasons at the time -- intervened to shape the destinies of other countries and then, as a nation, walked away.
There is so much about the United States that I admire. So when I speak of that time now, and encounter the pose of wounded innocence that is the most common American response, I am annoyed and disappointed. It is as though the notion of U.S. responsibility applies only within the 50 states, and I have no right to invoke it.
How then does someone like me reconcile his affection and frustration? Partly by offering a passionate critique. And partly by hoping for change -- by appealing, as the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. did, to what is most attractive about the United States, to what it claims to stand for, to what is best in its nature.
Americans need to educate themselves, from elementary school onward, about what their country has done abroad. And they need to play a more active role in ensuring that what the United States does abroad is not merely in keeping with a foreign policy elite's sense of realpolitik but also with the American public's own sense of American values.
Because at their core, those values are sound. That is why, even in places where you'll find virulent anti-Americanism, you'll also find enormous affection for things American. That's why Pakistani rock musicians listen to Jimi Hendrix and Nirvana, why Pakistani cities are full of kids wearing blue jeans and T-shirts, and why Pakistanis have been protesting to give their supreme court the same protection from meddling by their president held by its model: the Supreme Court of the United States.
All of which leads us to another, perhaps more fruitful question that Americans ought to consider: "Why do they love us?" People abroad admire Americans not because they back foreign dictators but because they believe that all men and all women are created equal. That concept cannot stop at the borders of the United States. It is a concept far greater than any one nation, no matter how great that nation is. For America to be true to itself, its people must broaden their belief in equality to include the men and women of the world.
The challenge that the United States faces today boils down to a choice. It can insist on its primacy as a superpower, or it can accept the universality of its values. If it chooses the former, it will heighten the resentment of foreigners and increase the likelihood of visiting disaster upon distant populations -- and vice versa. If it chooses the latter, it will discover something it appears to have forgotten: that the world is full of potential allies.
I'm one of them. I do not currently live in the United States, but I still believe in its potential for good. And like so many who wonder how our new and more integrated world can be built on a foundation that is humane and just, I look to the land where I, a writer, first learned to write, and allow myself to dream.<!--QuoteEnd--></div><!--QuoteEEnd-->
<!--quoteo--><div class='quotetop'>QUOTE</div><div class='quotemain'><!--quotec-->Why Do They Hate Us?'
By Mohsin Hamid
Sunday, July 22, 2007; B01
LONDON Recently, I found myself in Dallas, a place I'd never been before. As a Muslim writer, I felt about going there pretty much the way an American writer might have felt about heading to the tribal areas of Pakistan: nervous, with the distinct suspicion that the locals carried guns and weren't too fond of folks who look like me.
So I was surprised by the extraordinary hospitality I encountered on my trip. And I still remember the politeness with which one elderly gentleman addressed me in a bookshop. He held a copy of my latest novel, "The Reluctant Fundamentalist," and examined the face on its cover, comparing it to mine. Then he said, nodding once as if to dip the brim of an imaginary hat: "So tell me, sir. Why do they hate us?"
That stopped me cold. I've spent almost half my life in the United States, arriving from Lahore, Pakistan, with my parents in 1974 when I was 3 after my father was accepted to a PhD program at Stanford. I learned to sing "The Star-Spangled Banner" years before I could sing the Pakistani national anthem, played baseball before I could play cricket and wrote in English before I could write in Urdu. My earliest memories are of watching "Star Trek" and "MASH" while my parents barbecued chicken in the back yard. I was an American kid, through and through. Part of me still is.
But when I was 9, I moved back to where I came from. And because where I came from was Pakistan and I was about as all-American as a foreign-born brown boy could be, my perspective a quarter-century later on the question of why "they" hate "us" is perhaps a little more textured than most.
For one thing, part of me identifies with "they" and part with "us." For another, growing up in Pakistan in the 1980s let me see firsthand the devastating effects that the best of U.S. intentions can have.
Talk about why so many Muslims hate the United States these days, and you'll hear plenty of self-flagellation, at least in some quarters of post-9/11 America. I have too much affection for the United States to join in. These people make up the "We deserve to be hated because we're bad" school of thought, which is simplistic and unhelpful. It is simplistic because there are 300 million different components of the "we" that is America. And it is unhelpful because it ignores so much that is good about the nation.
Part of the reason people abroad resent the United States is something Americans can do very little about: envy. The richest, most powerful country in the world attracts the jealousy of others in much the same way that the richest, most powerful man in a small town attracts the jealousy of others. It will come his way no matter how kind, generous or humble he may be.
But there is another major reason for anti-Americanism: the accreted residue of many years of U.S. foreign policies. These policies are unknown to most Americans. They form only minor footnotes in U.S. history. But they are the chapter titles of the histories of other countries, where they have had enormous consequences. America's strength has made it a sort of Gulliver in world affairs: By wiggling its toes it can, often inadvertently, break the arm of a Lilliputian.
When my family moved back to Pakistan, I was given a front-row seat from which to observe one such obscure episode. In 1980, Lahore was a sleepy and rather quiet place. Pakistan's second-largest city was still safe enough for a 9-year-old to hop on his bicycle and ride around unsupervised.
But that was about to change. Soviet troops had recently rolled into Afghanistan, and the U.S. government, concerned about Afghanistan's proximity to the oil-rich Persian Gulf and eager to avenge the humiliating debacle of the Vietnam War, decided to respond. Building on President Jimmy Carter's tough line, President Ronald Reagan offered billions of dollars in economic aid and sophisticated weapons to Pakistan's dictator, Gen. Mohammed Zia ul-Haq. In exchange, Zia supported the mujaheddin, the Afghan guerrillas waging a modern-day holy war against the Soviet occupation. With the help of the CIA, jihadist training camps sprung up in the tribal areas of Pakistan. Soon Kalashnikov assault rifles from those camps began to flood the streets of Lahore, setting in motion a crime wave that put an end to my days of pedaling unsupervised through the streets.
Meanwhile, Zia began an ongoing attempt to Islamize Pakistan and thus make it a more fertile breeding ground for the anti-Soviet jihad. Public female dance performances were banned, female newscasters were told to cover their heads and laws undermining women's rights were passed. Secular politicians, academics and journalists were intimidated, imprisoned and worse.
One part of this was particularly unpleasant for those of us entering our teens: the angry groups of bearded men who began enforcing their own morality codes. They made going on dates risky, even in a fun-loving city such as Lahore. Meanwhile, a surge of cheap heroin -- the currency often used to buy the allegiance of Afghan warlords -- meant that Pakistan went from having virtually no addicts when I was 9 to having more than a million by the time I completed high school, according to a lecture that a U.S. drug-enforcement official gave at my school.
People all over the world talk about how things were better when they were young. In Lahore, we got into the habit of talking about how they were better last month.
In 1988, Zia died in a suspicious plane crash. The Soviets were driven out of Afghanistan in 1989, shortly before I left Lahore for college in the United States. When I mentioned the final campaign of the Cold War to my fellow freshmen at Princeton, few seemed to know much about it. Eighteen years later, most people I meet in the United States are astounded to learn that the period ever occurred. But in Pakistan, it is vividly seared into the national memory. Indeed, it has torn the very fabric of what, when I was born, was a relatively liberal country with nightclubs, casinos and legal alcohol.
The residue of U.S. foreign policy coats much of the world. It is the other part of the answer to the question, "Why do they hate us?" Simply because America has -- often for what seemed good reasons at the time -- intervened to shape the destinies of other countries and then, as a nation, walked away.
There is so much about the United States that I admire. So when I speak of that time now, and encounter the pose of wounded innocence that is the most common American response, I am annoyed and disappointed. It is as though the notion of U.S. responsibility applies only within the 50 states, and I have no right to invoke it.
How then does someone like me reconcile his affection and frustration? Partly by offering a passionate critique. And partly by hoping for change -- by appealing, as the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. did, to what is most attractive about the United States, to what it claims to stand for, to what is best in its nature.
Americans need to educate themselves, from elementary school onward, about what their country has done abroad. And they need to play a more active role in ensuring that what the United States does abroad is not merely in keeping with a foreign policy elite's sense of realpolitik but also with the American public's own sense of American values.
Because at their core, those values are sound. That is why, even in places where you'll find virulent anti-Americanism, you'll also find enormous affection for things American. That's why Pakistani rock musicians listen to Jimi Hendrix and Nirvana, why Pakistani cities are full of kids wearing blue jeans and T-shirts, and why Pakistanis have been protesting to give their supreme court the same protection from meddling by their president held by its model: the Supreme Court of the United States.
All of which leads us to another, perhaps more fruitful question that Americans ought to consider: "Why do they love us?" People abroad admire Americans not because they back foreign dictators but because they believe that all men and all women are created equal. That concept cannot stop at the borders of the United States. It is a concept far greater than any one nation, no matter how great that nation is. For America to be true to itself, its people must broaden their belief in equality to include the men and women of the world.
The challenge that the United States faces today boils down to a choice. It can insist on its primacy as a superpower, or it can accept the universality of its values. If it chooses the former, it will heighten the resentment of foreigners and increase the likelihood of visiting disaster upon distant populations -- and vice versa. If it chooses the latter, it will discover something it appears to have forgotten: that the world is full of potential allies.
I'm one of them. I do not currently live in the United States, but I still believe in its potential for good. And like so many who wonder how our new and more integrated world can be built on a foundation that is humane and just, I look to the land where I, a writer, first learned to write, and allow myself to dream.<!--QuoteEnd--></div><!--QuoteEEnd-->
Comments
Look at the developed states. All of them (Western Europe, Australia, Japan, USA, Canada) enjoy significant economic, political, and military ties to each other. The states where the USA meddles the most are <b>failed states</b>. Where a mix of the lingering effects of colonialism, indigenous corruption, and high barriers of entry into the developed markets contribute to their relative poverty. It is these <b>failed states</b> in which anti-Americanism is most virulent and prevalent.
Which is why we're forced to have such drastic standards for matters internal and abroad. I am a libertarian at home and a neoconservative abroad. American power is ultimately a net good for the world and we have to do all we can to preserve and continue our influence. It's not without fault and doesn't always produce good results, but the amount of public goods we've dumped upon the international stage is with precedent. We are effectively Britain + 1, not only ensuring freedom of the seas for the advancement of international trade, but also creating numerous NGOs and organizations commited to the development and integration of the world's emerging markets.
The simple answer is that you can't treat Americans and third world citizens the same. The latter are less likely to recognize the rule of law, contract, and accountability. Though it may seem incredible at first, the US government is remarkably uncorrupt, far more so than it was in the 50s and 60s and early into the 70s. Both the Federal and local governments are mostly transparent, accountable, stabilizing, and legitimate. The same cannot be said of the indigenous governments of many other states.
In order to advance both the interests of that of the United States and the rest of the world, we have to approach <b>failed states</b> with incredible realpolitik and extreme pragmatism. Idealism led to us giving the Iraqis back their sovereignty too fast and not enough pragmatism led us to dissolving their military. The US must enter the international arena with good intentions, but must be able to turn into Machiavelli at a moment's notice.
Anti-Americanism will always be prevalent so long as the USA is number 1. But despite that, we will continue to advance the interests of both the United States and the rest of the world, in varying levels of effectiveness.
I really like the article because it is framed as a very positive criticism by a person who understands both cultures probably more than most people understand their own. People who grow from childhood to adulthood tend to examine both cultures more due to the contrasts they have to understand and the differences in acceptable behaviour they have to overcome when they transition between cultures as children.
If I understand this guy correctly, the thing that produces the most hatred abroad is our inability to take responsibility for ourselves outside of our borders. This, I agree with completely. If we (forgive me for using we so much, I talk about we as Americans since I'm American) really intend to get serious about the world stage, we need to consider the value of the lives of non-Americans as well as Americans.
And we need to stop with knee-jerk reactions. And, if I may, each of us individually must intimately understand the ranges of our own knowledge, and keep the hell out of topics were we have no education. I'm as guilty of this as anyone, but it really needs to stop. If we'd only qualify what's our opinion by actually understanding that it is an opinion, it's a start.
Even that much could end ridiculous things like "The 9/11 Truth Movement" in which a single doctor of computer science can know more about the structural integrity of a building than fifty structural engineers. These people who would have our own "dogs of fascism" shot in the street in fact present the greatest of American arrogance.
The fact remains that if this guy could run for president, and if he did, I'd probably vote for him.
Whether I agree with your views or not Rapier, I have to say your phrasing won't win any allies. Of course, given the views, it might be that's the whole point. The world in microcosm, perhaps? <img src="style_emoticons/<#EMO_DIR#>/wink-fix.gif" style="vertical-align:middle" emoid=";)" border="0" alt="wink-fix.gif" />
- Shockwave
I would never call a state "failed." I would never call a state "succeeded," either. There are no metrics to really describe the performance measure of something so abstract as a "state." The fluidity of international politics also makes such a statement tough.<!--QuoteEnd--></div><!--QuoteEEnd-->
When warlords, terrorists or militias engage in bitter guerilla war over the spoils of your state and average citizens aren't guaranteed any rights or given any protection by the law you don't consider that state a failure because there is no precise metric on just how failed it is?
Do you think polling the people who live there and finding the proportion of people who consider their state a failure according to whatever criteria they would like to use is a good metric?
When warlords, terrorists or militias engage in bitter guerilla war over the spoils of your state and average citizens aren't guaranteed any rights or given any protection by the law you don't consider that state a failure because there is no precise metric on just how failed it is?
Do you think polling the people who live there and finding the proportion of people who consider their state a failure according to whatever criteria they would like to use is a good metric?
<!--QuoteEnd--></div><!--QuoteEEnd-->
Well, I can say that I don't trust polls as far as I can throw them. <img src="style_emoticons/<#EMO_DIR#>/tounge.gif" style="vertical-align:middle" emoid=":p" border="0" alt="tounge.gif" />
I'm sure such a state you describe is a failure as far as we're concerned. I'm also sure it's a complete success as far as those who are making the money are concerned. Don't try to lecture me about right and wrong when it comes this idea of a "state." A state exists where people say it exists.
People can suffer, and people can prosper. If either of those are the goal, and the goal is met, then we have success.
So you can't globally label a state as "failed." To do so is not only to force your beliefs on someone else, it's impossibily linked to decisions you've never made. I personally don't like the idea of people dying in such a fashion, but that doesn't mean I don't understand that it happens. I'm not cold at heart, but I don't carry blind hatred for things that I don't understand, either.
And besides, I thought you'd understand that never accepting that a state has "failed" is really an optimistic viewpoint. I don't want to close the book; I want to keep reading until it gets better!
We intervene in <b>failed states</b> precisely because they are unable to govern themselves. Where the government is nothing more than a kleptocracy in which dictator after dictator topples each other in succession so they can funnel money from the country's resources into their Swiss bank accounts.
Look at the latest global counter-terrorism initiative that the USA started - Operation Enduring Freedom. Where are the primary theaters? Afghanistan, the Phillipines, the Horn of Africa, trans-Saharan Africa and Central Asia. They are hardly models of democracy, freedom, and prosperity, are they? No, in fact, they are the places where terrorism thrives the most. Are we in there for our benefit? Of course, the foreign policy of any state is to advance its own perceived interests. Does it benefit other states? It does, but they either ignore the public good that we provide or say we're not providing enough of it (because we're cold-hearted ######s for our refusal to intervene in Rwanda, our ongoing non-commital stance on Darfur, for examples).
Anti-Americanism is something in which there are four primary demographics.
1. Those living in post-industrial states - For people living in states with a democratic government, with a financially stable and prosperous citizenry, high technology and excellent infrastructure, anti-Americanism arises primarily out of jealousy from their political right or resentment from their political left. Although American hegemony has made these states its prime beneficiaries (Germany, South Korea, Japan, France, and the UK are the most notable examples), their populations harbor varying degrees of irrational dislike towards the United States which manifest in the form of cultural exceptionalism (the policing of the French language to exclude American vernacular), higher barriers to entry within the domestic market (it is much easier for a foreign firm to gain entry to the market of the United States than vice versa), and political interference (the criticisms we endure from the mouthpieces of foreign governments, of which Jacque Chirac). This irrational dislike or even hatred occurs despite the population's overwhelming acceptance and admiration of American culture, television, movies, media, fashion, exports, and celebrities.
2. Those living in emerging states - For people living in states with a more or less democratic government, or barring that, an ultimately benevolent dictatorial oligarchy (China), a financially volatile and prospering citizenry, industrializing infrastructure and technology, anti-Americanism arises primarily out of envy and resentment of past occurences, and current disputes. The envy portion rises primarily out of a crisis of national identity. Russia, China, and Mexico are the most prominent examples. Past grievances for Mexico would be the Mexican-American war, Pershing's expedition into Mexico to chase Pancho Villa, and the military occupation of Vera Cruz. For China, this would be supporting the Guomindang. For Russia...the Cold War. Current disputes are pretty simple. Mexico - drugs and immigration. China - Tainted exports, currency fiat, rising superpower status. Russia - Re-emerging superpower status, disagreeable domestic policy. Despite the overwhelming popularity of American cultural exports, a significant portion of its citizens harbor both irrational, and rational dislike or hatred of America. It's not all anti-Americanism.
3. Those living in <b>failed states</b> - For people living in states with an oppressive and tyrannical government, a stagnant economy, with little national infrastructure, anti-Americanism arises primarily as a defense mechanism. The simple fact is that these states are poor, corrupt, backwards, inefficient. The local elite blames the problem on all things American in order to divert attention away from their shockingly inept domestic policies, which are the true culprit. America acts as a scapegoat for long existing socioeconomic problems that America had never caused in the first place. Although American cultural exports are almost universally coveted and desired, few people lack the economic well being to acquire or afford them.
4. Those living in Iraq - Yeah, we ###### up your country. Sorry about that. But hey, if we stay in for another decade, you might come to like us.
4. Those living in Iraq - Yeah, we ###### up your country. Sorry about that. But hey, if we stay in for another decade, you might come to like us.
<!--QuoteEnd--></div><!--QuoteEEnd-->
I remember telling a girl something like that once. Hehe. She never did come around though - her loss.
Rapier7 I don't think you can grasp the concept that the US administration does not benevolently care about the peoples of these so called 'failed states'. These countries are just pawns in the 'war on drugs', the 'war on terror', or imperialistic tendencies to secure oil and resources. The current US administration is now reviled by the majority of the peoples of the world for its recent actions, inactions and its hypocrisy. To be the good guys you have to act like the good guys, not just lie and spin that you are.. secret prisons, supporting warlords, supporting dictators, appeasing dictators, etc are not the actions of good guys.
The police are <b>SUPPOSED</b> to do a good job, they can't use "well we are for the greater good" argument as a defense when officers are caught dealing coke or beating up minorities.
Try to imagine someone standing up for Russia, saying it is a force for the good of the world (with the token bullsh*t disclaimer that 'oh sometimes it does some bad things') and that anyone who disagrees is either just envious or anti-Russian and you'll realise how ridiculous your argument sounds.
1. Those living in post-industrial states - For people living in states with a democratic government, with a financially stable and prosperous citizenry, high technology and excellent infrastructure, anti-Americanism arises primarily out of jealousy from their political right or resentment from their political left. Although American hegemony has made these states its prime beneficiaries (Germany, South Korea, Japan, France, and the UK are the most notable examples), their populations harbor varying degrees of irrational dislike towards the United States which manifest in the form of cultural exceptionalism (the policing of the French language to exclude American vernacular), higher barriers to entry within the domestic market (it is much easier for a foreign firm to gain entry to the market of the United States than vice versa), and political interference (the criticisms we endure from the mouthpieces of foreign governments, of which Jacque Chirac). This irrational dislike or even hatred occurs despite the population's overwhelming acceptance and admiration of American culture, television, movies, media, fashion, exports, and celebrities.
<!--QuoteEnd--></div><!--QuoteEEnd-->
Yet again, you try to dismiss any criticism of US foreign policy as irrational and anti-american. This is the last time you will do this on these forums. Not only is it an attempt to dismiss any and all arguments against your beliefs,but it is factually ill-informed. The most obvious innacuracy is this one:
<!--quoteo--><div class='quotetop'>QUOTE</div><div class='quotemain'><!--quotec-->
the policing of the French language to exclude American vernacular
<!--QuoteEnd--></div><!--QuoteEEnd-->
The French language has been heavily policed for centuries - for about 2 hundred years longer than the US has existed as a nation, never mind a culture. The French language is reviewed and evolved by a central authority and has always been like this in modern times. To somehow see this is irrational anti-Americanism demonstrates just how ridiculous your attempts to dismiss criticisms against the US are. So please, if you want to disagree with a persons point of view, you are welcome to do so, but to tarnish anyone from Europe who speaks out against the US with this brush is simply not acceptable here, no matter how much you bold certain terms.
<!--quoteo--><div class='quotetop'>QUOTE</div><div class='quotemain'><!--quotec-->
This irrational dislike or even hatred occurs despite the population's overwhelming acceptance and admiration of American culture, television, movies, media, fashion, exports, and celebrities.
<!--QuoteEnd--></div><!--QuoteEEnd-->
Can you not see the contradiction in your statement? Most Europeans are comfortable with US culture and feel kinship towards the US people. In my experience of the US, I have found this to be reciprocated. Sure there's a bit of banter that uses stereotypes in the name of fun, but you blurr the lines between cultural rivalry and prejudice to defend your arguments. Your basic effort is to label anyone who disagrees with US foreign policy as an irrational anti-American who likes his freedom fries French.
So, this is your final warning. If you continue to attempt to squash other opinions by framing them in terms of prejudice, you will be prevented from posting temporarily.
Right now for the most part America takes this pseudo hands off approach to dealing with the world. It's like they allow themselfs to meddle in things whenever there is a profit to be made, but as soon as the situations turn sour they decide that it's not their responsibility any more. A profit driven foreign policy is going to absolutely poison your foreign relations no matter how you look at it. There is really nothing wrong with foreign business, but when the accountability laws are peanuts compared to what they would be state side it's obviously going to cause friction.
Whether I agree with your views or not Rapier, I have to say your phrasing won't win any allies. Of course, given the views, it might be that's the whole point. The world in microcosm, perhaps? <img src="style_emoticons/<#EMO_DIR#>/wink-fix.gif" style="vertical-align:middle" emoid=";)" border="0" alt="wink-fix.gif" />
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You've got a good point Shockwave. I'm one of the least qualified to comment on charisma. Still, I know some people who mix in a bit of humility when working their magic at convincing others to like them. <img src="style_emoticons/<#EMO_DIR#>/smile-fix.gif" style="vertical-align:middle" emoid=":)" border="0" alt="smile-fix.gif" />
It's even possibly to defend how great a nation is while staying humble. And don't do it for your listeners sake. Do it for the advantages you get from a discussion less strongly opposed to your own views.
Anti-Americanism is something in which there are four primary demographics.
1. Those living in post-industrial states [...]
2. Those living in emerging states - [...]
3. Those living in <b>failed states</b> - [...]
4. Those living in Iraq - [...]
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That looks to me like The World minus America tbh.
In my opinion, if you're gonna be world police do it right. Don't go help the "oh so poor failed and developing states" if you just want to go there and see what's worth taking if you help them.
Sure I don't expect a country acting against it's interests, but then again if you're just there for what you can get it's not really help isn't it?
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I'm sorry I just quoted this to look at it again...it's just amusing.
And finally, so you don't have to do it.
ZOMGZ LOKE IS TEH ANTI-AMERICAN