Choosing How to See the World: an Alternative to the Postmodern Perspective

Ann Boyles comments on the effects of the postmodernist perspective on our contemporary worldview and offers an alternative framework for understanding current trends and events. This article first appeared in the 1993-94 edition of The Bahá'í World, pp. 171-188.

Introduction

In the closing years of the twentieth century, the moral paradoxes and tragic juxtapositions of life on this planet are becoming increasingly insupportable. The horrors of tribal violence in Rwanda and "ethnic cleansing" in the Balkans appear in vivid images on television screens and magazine and newspaper pages around the globe, yet no agency seems to possess the moral and practical authority to do more than utter a hollow condemnation of the atrocities. The media report the proliferation of drug trafficking and child prostitution in various parts of the world and the rise in teenage violence, but no body or government has stepped forward to curb these activities. The traffic of drugs that cause untold human misery is acceptable in some quarters because the income generated by the cultivation of drug-producing plants brings prosperity to impoverished rural villages around the world. Child prostitution in southeast Asian cities is quietly condoned by some governments because it increases regional tourism. Powerful lobby groups in the United States agitate against more stringent gun control laws as an infringement on their personal liberty, while children with automatic weapons kill each other in schoolyards across the nation. The moral failings of politicians all over the world are widely publicized and condemned by a public that engages in many of the same activities. The gap between public morality and private life grows ever wider.

Such contradictions are, in no small measure, the legacy of intellectual and political ideas that have carried us through much of the twentieth century. On the one hand, we want to believe that we can build a better world, but on the other, while we may cry for the leadership that will assist us to build such a world, we reject the idea of central global authority or a structure of governance capable of dealing with the pressing problems confronting us all. The result is essentially a world adrift, where no certain values remain. There is a sense of events running out of control, accompanied by a perception of randomness--an impression that many things occur without cause and are therefore irresolvable.

Yet an irrepressible sense of hope remains: people still dare to believe that the world will become a place of peace, that the poverty-stricken will one day live in dignity, that the oppressed will be released from their bondage. The world looks hopefully towards a post-apartheid South Africa. Peace negotiations between entrenched foes inspire cautious optimism. And people's unhappiness with their governments and leaders generates a re-examination of outworn political systems. In essence, then, the world is currently torn by two opposing forces: an almost nihilistic conviction that humanity is destined to pursue a path of self-destruction versus a drive towards redefinition of ourselves, our social systems, and our world. How can we come to terms with these two opposing views? Is the world caught in an irreversible spiral towards anarchy, as many modern commentators would have us believe? In considering these questions, a critical look at a theory that has held sway over many thinkers during the past decades will be helpful.

Modernism and Postmodernism

The problem with structure and authority that lies at the heart of modern life is part of a phenomenon that has acquired the designation "postmodernism." It underscores discussions about organized religion and the authority of religious leaders, colors perceptions of political and civil life around the world, shapes current literature and contemporary arts, calls into question the validity of the traditional family as an institution, and determines theories and practices in the fields of business and economics.

Postmodernism's precursor, the modernist movement, originated in the early years of the twentieth century, the result of the modern perception of a loss of center in the world and the search to regain that center. The postmodernist era into which we have moved in the latter half of this century could be termed a period when people have given up searching for that lost center and have come to believe that there never was such a thing in the first place. Among the major characteristics of postmodernism that have drifted from the intellectual arena into popular culture and thus affect our daily life are a real or perceived lack of leadership; a questioning and rejection of authority; an absence of systems of hierarchical ordering, resulting in fragmentation and a sense of randomness; attempts to redefine basic structures in society; an assertion of invalidity of many previously held beliefs; a lack of accountability; violence; discordance; studied ugliness.

The paradigm contains both positive and negative implications. This is a pluralistic world, in many ways, where it is no longer generally acceptable to impose Western culture and values on others. Similarly, in the realm of belief, many people now recognize that there are many different religions and values systems operating in the world. It is no longer tolerable for one race or culture to be enslaved in any way by another. These are forward steps. But the loss of a common point of reference or authority has alarming ramifications. Since there are no unalterable rules and everything is negotiable, nothing possesses absolute meaning. For example, if we talk about "human rights," how can we agree on exactly what are human rights? Or if we talk about the equality of women and men, how can we agree exactly what that entails? If we accept that there is validity in many different religions, how do we decide which teachings, if any, are to be universally respected?

An illustration of the difficulties engendered by such a lack of authority is found in several issues arising in the field of medical ethics during 1993-94. Discussions concerning legality of euthanasia, the cloning of human embryos, and post-menopausal pregnancies exposed the ethical dilemmas created by the rapid advance of science beyond traditionally accepted limits. How can one resolve such discussions without recourse to a central, universally respected moral authority? Such is the difficulty encountered in many fields throughout the postmodern world, leaving us with more "deconstructions" than "constructions," more of a fragmented view than one of wholeness, and more questions than answers.

Postmodernism and Reportage

While historical events of the past century have served to destabilize and fragment established patterns of society around the world, the rapid development of telecommunications has given steadily greater substance to Marshall McLuhan's "global village," so that we now have the technology to communicate in ways scarcely dreamed of in past ages. The technological tools available to create a peaceful, unified world exist. Yet they have seldom been effectively used towards such ends.

Contemporary reportage in the global media clearly evidences the tendencies and biases of postmodernism. Information is disseminated broadly and rapidly; strange juxtapositions occur, and what may be considered important one day is forgotten the next, as illustrated by the following example. "New world order" became a buzzword in the late 1980s with the breakup of the Soviet Union, the demolition of the Berlin Wall, the reunification of Germany, and a variety of other occurrences that were hailed widely by the international media as proof that the world was being reshaped and reconfigured into a new, global order that would be significantly different from and better than the previous one. Yet, within a very brief timespan, the same international media were trumpeting the downfall of the new order, branding it the "new world disorder" and generally heralding its quick demise.

Perhaps the world was too naive in its expectations about what the "new world order" would bring and about the effort required to ensure its survival. It quickly became apparent that the structure of this new order is ill-defined--even chaotic; with one of the two former superpowers now gone, the tensions driving international relations, directing nations' foreign policies, and governing international economics have radically changed. Small nations attempting to establish their own sovereignty are largely inexperienced in the art of governance; governments all around the world have been subverted by internal strife, corruption, public dissatisfaction, recalcitrant military forces, and by their own ineptitude. In some cases their structures have begun to disintegrate, and in others their stature has declined considerably. Who or what, then, will provide structure in this post-Colonial, post-Cold War world? To whom are people to turn as an authority? Such questions have assumed central importance as either explicit or implicit concerns of media coverage of current events.

The major stories and editorial commentaries of 1993-94 clearly reflect this preoccupation with our destabilized present and our uncertain future. In the spheres of politics and civil life, the press worried constantly about the absence of strong, upright leadership in various countries of the world, from the US to Russia, from Japan to Italy; civil uprisings against governments occurred in widely disparate areas, including Moscow in October 1993 and the Chiapas region of Mexico in January 1994; international organized crime was seen as a growing problem around the world.

In the realm of the family, 1994's United Nations International Year of the Family sparked broad discussion about the viability of the family as an institution, and commentators mused whether the family as a social unit needed to be redefined. Meanwhile, various stories in the media examined family breakdown, citing examples of neglect of children by their parents, the selling of children into prostitution, and the rise in violence among teenagers.

The business world experienced a strange volatility in the stock markets, saw a "jobless recovery" to the global recession, and witnessed the emergence of competitive new economic centers around the world--particularly in the Far East and Latin America--to the consternation of traditional leaders such as Europe and the US. While China was hailed as a new "superpower" on the world scene, concerns about its human rights violations were renewed, and in the West alarms were sounded about the North Korean government's capability to produce nuclear arms.

Conflicts fuelled by racial and ethnic hatred escalated in various locations: "ethnic cleansing" occurred in Cambodia and in Bosnia, in spite of the establishment of "safe havens" by the United Nations peacekeeping forces; tribal violence erupted in Rwanda, Burundi, Kenya, and Algeria; there was a general backlash against foreigners in western Europe, and fascism gained popularity as a movement; the path to South Africa's first multiracial democratic elections was paved with bloodshed. Commentators noted the rising number of conflicts between ethnic identity and the modern nation; such retreats into tribal and ethnic conclaves are marked by a disregard for laws of governments and established national boundaries.

Some of these conflicts were additionally kindled by religious strife; the term "religious nationalism" defined movements in which religious beliefs combined with political ambitions to create explosive situations such as the murder of Muslim worshippers in a mosque in Hebron, Israel, by a fanatical Zionist, the call by Hindu revivalists for India to become a solely Hindu nation, and the bombing of the World Trade Center in New York by Muslim fundamentalists. The Branch Davidian cult in Waco, Texas, also made the news with the violent deaths of its members in a standoff with the FBI. In the mainstream Christian churches, the authority of the Pope came under heavy fire with regard to his position on abortion and birth control issues, and revisionist histories of the life of Christ promoted a far different understanding of His life and mission than the generally accepted one.

In the face of international disputes, the United Nations was pressed to send peacekeeping troops, but the success of these interventions was, at best, limited. The press endlessly debated the actions of UN peacekeepers in Somalia and Bosnia, and some commentators urged that the entire UN peacekeeping system be overhauled to meet the new and expanding demands placed upon it by the world situation. The reluctance of the US to assume a large share of peacekeeping duties was increased by the deaths of a number of American soldiers in Somalia. Meanwhile, members of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) considered the post-Cold War future of the body, debating whether it should assume peacekeeping duties similar to those of the UN.

With increasing ethnic, racial, cultural, and religious conflicts, the number of the world's refugees continued to rise dramatically in 1993-94, while fewer and fewer countries appeared willing to welcome them, fearing a decline in their own standard of living. Clearly such a global problem demands a comprehensive global solution, but none appears in sight.

Other stories featured in the news during 1993-94 dealt with widely contrasting issues: the resurgence of a number of diseases such as tuberculosis and malaria that health officials considered to be under control; the AIDS epidemic that continued to ravage populations, largely in Africa; the information highway on the anarchical Internet system, which allowed the millions who logged on instant access to information and other users in far distant locations. And finally, in the realm of arts and entertainment, the press obliged the public's taste for scandal in its tabloid depictions of the private lives of celebrities.

All of these stories illustrate the sense of fragmentation, randomness, and inability to deal effectively with crises besetting humanity. But perhaps the most cogent and succinct example of the postmodernist view of the world offered to the reading public by contemporary commentators on the world scene can be found in an article entitled "The Coming Anarchy," written by Robert Kaplan and published in the February 1994 issue of The Atlantic Monthly. This piece graphically depicts the social and political ramifications of the postmodern condition and makes shocking predictions about the future according to current trends. It is a graphic and compelling discussion, outlining, in Kaplan's own words, the "political and cartographic implications of postmodernism--an epoch of themeless juxtapositions in which the classificatory grid of nation-states is going to be replaced by a jagged-glass pattern of city-states, shanty-states, nebulous and anarchic regionalisms."

This view of "re-primitivized man," depicting "warrior societies operating at a time of unprecedented resource scarcity and planetary overcrowding" and a world where "technology will be used toward primitive ends," comes to Kaplan through the research of scholars such as Thomas Fraser Homer-Dixon, whose study of planetary overcrowding suggests that global strife fuelled by environmental degradation, ethnic hatreds, overpopulation, and a widening gap between the rich and poor will shape our future. Kaplan calls to witness incidents from his own travels through West Africa and the Balkan areas of Europe as support for his conclusions, and there are certainly major recent news stories that bear out these observations as well.

Tracing factors such as environmental degradation, ethnic and historical disputes, cultural conflicts, the breakdown of the family, the drift of populations away from rural life to the cities, and the population swell, Kaplan envisions three choices for future governance of the world: totalitarianism, fascist mini-states, or road-warrior cultures. We live in a "bifurcated world," as he expresses it, with "cadillac" societies on the one hand, impoverished have-not states on the other, and the gap between the two widening with every passing day.

In Kaplan's view, there is only one logical outcome to such a situation: conflict. War is, in fact, a step up for the poverty-stricken, he points out. There is "liberation in violence," and "worrying about mines and ambushes frees you from worrying about mundane details of daily existence." Increasingly, he predicts, there will be a breakdown of the distinctions between "war" and "crime," with wars waged by small "subnational" groups for "communal survival." Witness, for example, the militia forces of Beirut in the 1980s and, more recently, those of Haiti. Maps, asserts Kaplan, no longer indicate real borders, nor do they indicate the impending global political crackup. The era of the nation is past. Rather, we will retreat into ethnic enclaves and stay there in our isolated cocoons.

An Alternative Perspective

Kaplan's graphic depiction of global social breakdown is well-documented, but his scenario for the world's future is colored by a number of rather doubtful assumptions about the nature of humans and society. In evaluating his analysis and predictions, we need to consider an alternative perspective offered by the Universal House of Justice, in a statement on peace addressed to the peoples of the world and widely disseminated by the members of the Bahá'í community in 1986, the United Nations International Year of Peace, and in the years since.¹

The document states unequivocally, "World peace is not only possible but inevitable. It is the next stage in the evolution of this planet...." Lest one think this is some sort of naive utopian view, however, the Universal House of Justice goes directly on to position the world at a dramatic crossroads: "Whether peace is to be reached only after unimaginable horrors precipitated by humanity's stubborn clinging to old patterns of behaviour, or is to be embraced now by an act of consultative will, is the choice before all who inhabit the earth." While Kaplan's analysis and predictions seem to assume that humanity exercises no real choice in its actions but is merely prey to external forces and its own aggressive tendencies, the Universal House of Justice asserts that humanity can and must assert control over its own destiny and then outlines concrete actions it can take towards establishing a peaceful world.

One of the factors identified in the peace statement as crippling efforts to establish peace is a paralysis of will centering around a widely-held conception of human nature as incorrigibly selfish and aggressive. In "The Coming Anarchy," for example, Kaplan asserts, "Physical aggression is part of being human," and "Only when people attain a certain economic, educational, and cultural standard is this trait tranquilized." Certainly relief from poverty and the benefits of education can allow people and their societies to develop; however, there are also examples from recent history amply demonstrating that relative prosperity and high educational standards do not necessarily lead to a peaceful society. Further, the word "tranquilized" suggests that the aggression remains beneath the surface much as the feral instinct remains in domesticated animals. Such a view ignores the widespread expression of longing for peace and harmony current in the world. It seems impossible to reconcile the view of human nature as innately aggressive with the widely-held desire for peace, and therefore some reassessment of our conception of human nature is in order.

Viewing selfish, aggressive behavior as a "distortion of the human spirit" rather than its true expression and accepting such behavior as part of a phase of immaturity promotes acknowledgement and transcendence; it frees us to establish social structures that will enhance the peace-building process. Then consultation can take place among the world's peoples, leading to a "united search for appropriate solutions." The longer humanity remains mired in the perception of innate aggression, the longer we impede the journey towards peace, as we merely justify our current behavior rather than promote the will to change.

Other factors contribute to the world's paralysis of will in addressing humanity's current ills. One such factor, according to the statement on peace, is an unwillingness to face the implications of the establishment of a world authority; thus, we retreat into nationalistic or ethnic enclaves that mistrust each other, and no effective model of international authority exists to assure us that we should place our trust in it. Another factor is the incapacity of uneducated masses to articulate their desire for a new order. Additionally, the Universal House of Justice identifies several barriers to peace, including racism, disparity between the rich and poor peoples of the world, unbridled nationalism, and religious strife. These factors are very similar to those outlined in the Kaplan article, but the Universal House of Justice, in contrast, goes beyond mere analysis to articulate the means whereby, if humanity chooses, we may take the alternative route leading to peace, without experiencing the preceding global anarchy.

The Bahá'í approach to the subject is essentially optimistic, but the pursuit of peace is recognized as complex, involving three essential prerequisites: the equality of the sexes, universal education, and improved global communication, including the selection of a universal auxiliary language. Underlying each of these is a notion of organic unity concerning human relationships; as the Universal House of Justice phrases it: "Acceptance of the oneness of mankind is the first fundamental prerequisite for reorganization and administration of the world as one country, the home of humankind." This view stands in direct opposition to the prediction of retreat into ethnic enclaves, an action that an observer like Kaplan seems to regard as inevitable.

In its peace statement, the Universal House of Justice stresses that

The emancipation of women, the achievement of full equality between the sexes, is one of the most important, though less acknowledged prerequisites of peace. The denial of such equality perpetrates an injustice against one half of the world's population and promotes in men harmful attitudes and habits that are carried from the family to the workplace, to political life, and ultimately to international relations. There are no grounds, moral, practical, or biological, upon which such denial can be justified.

Women are strangely absent from Kaplan's view of the future. Their status does not seem to be of any concern to him, though surely the condition of half of the world's population--and, at that, the half that is chiefly responsible for raising the next generation--is significant to the direction humanity will take. Ignoring women perpetuates the idea that they are insignificant in factoring the course of humanity's future. Surely this must be questioned. In fact, as the world gears up for the United Nations Fourth World Conference on Women, to be held in Beijing in 1995, the situation and condition of women around the world is coming under growing scrutiny. To ignore the progress that has been made thus far, and the very real challenges that remain to be met, is to do a disservice to women and their power to shape the course of future generations as well as to participate in the governance of peoples around the world. Kaplan overlooks them at his own peril.

Further, to view education as "tranquilizing" aggressive tendencies is to disregard its power to change people's attitudes and thus the course of the future. The Universal House of Justice identifies "ignorance [as] indisputably the principal reason for the decline and fall of peoples and the perpetuation of prejudice." Further, it states, "No nation can achieve success unless education is accorded all its citizens." This issue is crucial and is connected to the issue of women's status. Although universal education is the ultimate objective, nations with limited resources must reconsider their priorities to meet this need; the Bahá'í teachings give preference to the education of women and girls, "since it is through educated mothers that the benefits of knowledge can be most effectively and rapidly diffused throughout society." Significantly, one subject identified as crucial for study by all children is the concept of world citizenship. Within a generation or two, such study would certainly promote the development of societies able to withstand the temptation to retreat into ethnic, racial, or cultural enclaves.

"The Coming Anarchy" asserts that borders drawn on maps no longer represent any real separations into different collections of populations, as the idea of the state is outdated. Bahá'ís have held this view for over one hundred years, but their vision of what is to replace the state is rather different. Bahá'u'lláh wrote, in the late nineteenth century, "The earth is but one country, and mankind its citizens."² Then, writing in 1936, Shoghi Effendi, the Guardian of the Bahá'í Faith, analyzed the world situation in the following terms: "The anarchy inherent in state sovereignty is moving towards a climax. A world, growing to maturity, must abandon this fetish, recognize the oneness and wholeness of human relationships, and establish once for all the machinery that can best incarnate this fundamental principle of its life."³ Where Kaplan sees humanity's retreat into small ethnic or tribal enclaves as something amounting to the inevitable, Bahá'ís see another force at work in the world counteracting such action: "Together with the opposing tendency to warfare and self-aggrandizement against which it ceaselessly struggles, the drive towards world unity is one of the dominant, pervasive features of life on the planet during the closing years of the twentieth century."⁴

The real issue here is choice--the exercise of human will--and responsibility, not inevitability. The view represented in "The Coming Anarchy" may well prove to be an accurate picture of the direction humanity takes over the next years, but there is nothing inevitable about it. Governments and leaders in many fields have the knowledge necessary for them to choose a path that addresses the fundamental problems Kaplan delineates. Issues related to human rights, global prosperity, the equality of men and women, and moral development need the world's serious, sustained attention characterized by a unity of approach. Yet we cannot lay all the responsibility at the feet of governments. Individual citizens of this global village need to be educated about their responsibilities as members of a new kind of civilization. If we envision ourselves on the threshold of maturity rather than retreating into a re-primitivized state, then we can raise ourselves up according to that vision. If we envision an ever-advancing civilization rather than a disintegrating one, then we have an orientation that will lead us forward rather than backward.

No consideration of society's development and future can ignore the importance of religion as a force. Although religious strife abounds in the world, we cannot disregard the essential benefits conferred upon humanity by religion. It is a potent positive social force--"the greatest of all means for the establishment of order in the world and for the peaceful contentment of all that dwell therein," in the words of Bahá'u'lláh, who also cautioned, "Should the lamp of religion be obscured, chaos and confusion will ensue, and the lights of fairness, of justice, of tranquillity and peace cease to shine."⁵ Within religion lie the possibilities for the reconstruction of the world's society on a more just and equitable basis.

At present, there are two processes simultaneously at work in the world: the rolling up of the old world order and the rolling out of the new. The media, with their postmodernist perspective, largely focus on the former, with its emphasis on violence, randomness, disintegration, despair, and, eventually, complete breakdown and anarchy. But we can see evidence of this other process, which admittedly receives much less emphasis. Nevertheless, some of the news stories of 1993-94 can be summoned to witness this second process.

The world, for example, anticipated widespread bloodshed during the first democratic elections ever held in South Africa, and indeed, the prelude to the elections was violent to the extreme. Yet, the voting itself was carried out peacefully, and the transition to the new government was an emotionally moving experience to witness, even for a cynical public. Despite tremendous difficulties, democratic elections were also held in Cambodia for the first time in over twenty years, under the watchful eyes of UN observers.

Economic forces led different governments to move towards regional and even global free trade zones. The North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA) and the qualified success of the Uruguay Round of the General Agreement on Trade and Tariffs (GATT) were heralded by some critics as disasters--the "GATTastrophe," according to one commentator--and as major steps towards the recognition of a global economy by others. Whatever their limitations, they do show a world attempting to come to terms with itself on a global scale. Such agreements may be first steps towards more comprehensive endeavors, leading perhaps to a world economy.

While the United Nations and NATO struggled to make or maintain peace in some parts of the world, peace talks sprang up in some surprising locations and between some unlikely negotiators. In the Middle East, negotiations commenced in Israel between two former bitter rivals, with the goal of resolving longstanding disputes. In Ireland, the Irish Republican Army signalled its willingness to talk with the government about ending the twenty-odd years of violence in Northern Ireland.

And in contrast to the divisive religious strife occurring in various locations, ecumenical activities proliferated, including the gathering of representatives of the world's major faiths for the second Parliament of the World's Religions. Held in Chicago in September 1993, the event demonstrated through the manifesto produced at the end of the session that goodwill and tolerance are possible among peoples of differing beliefs.

Such stories show that on the world stage there are efforts being made to come to grips with what it actually means to be part of a global society. Rather than focusing on disintegration, some forces and agencies have elected to focus on integration and redefinition. But efforts in this direction are also possible on a small scale, and the Bahá'í international community offers one working model of a functioning world entity. Throughout the world, the affairs of Bahá'í communities are governed by Local Spiritual Assemblies. As the Bahá'í Faith has no clergy, these nine-member bodies, elected by secret ballot in every community where there are nine or more adult believers in good standing, govern the affairs of the Bahá'í communities they serve. A 1993 count indicated that there were almost 18,000 of these bodies around the world. Members of these institutions are elected for their spiritual qualities and service to the community; they are not necessarily highly educated or even literate, though of course many are. Yet they learn to function as a united body through experience in the art of consultation. The existence and increasing maturity of functioning of these assemblies in all parts of the world is a potent argument against the kind of global anarchy that Kaplan predicts. If nations break down, Local Spiritual Assemblies will still be able to govern the affairs of the communities they serve, often with a greater sense of service than officials elected through the traditional democratic process, where campaigns feature empty promises, attacks on opponents, and various types of electioneering. In Bahá'í elections there is no campaigning or electioneering. Every adult believer is eligible to vote and to be voted for; if elected, she or he must serve. The existence of such a broad-based, functioning system of governance in the Bahá'í community around the world shows that all people, from villagers in remote rural areas to inhabitants of large cities, can assume responsibility for the affairs that affect them. This sort of responsible community-based government is a strong alternative to the forces of violence some see as taking over the world.

Kaplan himself posits, "Whereas the distant future will probably see the emergence of a racially hybrid, globalized man, the coming decades will see us more aware of our differences than of our similarities." To this assertion, one may well respond by asking whether it is not possible to see both differences and similarities and to accept them as essential parts of our humanness. The unity about which so much has been written in the Bahá'í Faith is not uniformity. Shoghi Effendi described it thus:

It can conflict with no legitimate allegiances, nor can it undermine essential loyalties. Its purpose is neither to stifle the flame of a sane and intelligent patriotism in men's hearts, nor to abolish the system of national autonomy so essential if the evils of excessive centralization are to be avoided. It does not ignore, nor does it attempt to suppress, the diversity of ethnical origins, of climate, of history, of language and tradition, of thought and habit, that differentiate the peoples and nations of the world. It calls for a wider loyalty, for a larger aspiration than any that has animated the human race. It insists upon the subordination of national impulses and interests to the imperative claims of a unified world. It repudiates excessive centralization on one hand, and disclaims all attempts at uniformity on the other. Its watchword is unity in diversity.... ⁶

Unity and diversity are not mutually exclusive or incompatible, in the Bahá'í view. In fact, they enrich one another by their interaction. Against what, then, does the Bahá'í Faith stand? This question is, once again, answered succinctly by Shoghi Effendi:

The call of Bahá'u'lláh is primarily directed against all forms of provincialism, all insularities and prejudices. If long-cherished ideals and time-honored institutions, if certain social assumptions and religious formulae have ceased to promote the welfare of the generality of mankind, if they no longer minister to the needs of a continually evolving humanity, let them be swept away and relegated to the limbo of obsolescent and forgotten doctrines. Why should these, in a world subject to the immutable law of change and decay, be exempt from the deterioration that must needs overtake every human institution? For legal standards, political and economic theories are solely designed to safeguard the interests of humanity as a whole, and not humanity to be crucified for the preservation of the integrity of any particular law or doctrine.⁷

Conclusion

Could it be that our notions about what is happening in the world around us, shaped by postmodernist theorists, belong to those obsolescent doctrines that should be swept away because they no longer minister to our needs? Could it be that we are too attached to the prophecies of the doomsayers, which predict momentous and catastrophic future events far larger than the scope of individuals to deal with, thus paralyzing our collective will?

We choose the way we view the world. There are powerful forces at work to shape our view--political, journalistic, commercial, social--but we are capable of choosing whether or not we wish to view the world through the lenses offered to us by these forces, which are often sustained by powerful self-interest. Do we really believe that we are doomed to endure global anarchy and that there is nothing we can do to halt the process? Or can we adjust our vision somewhat to see that there are other constructive forces at work in the world, that what may appear randomly destructive is part of a process of renewal of civilization, and that it is in our power to determine the speed and course of that process?

---

1. The Universal House of Justice, The Promise of World Peace (Haifa: Bahá'í World Centre, 1985).
2. Bahá'u'lláh, Gleanings from the Writings of Bahá'u'lláh (Wilmette: Bahá'í Publishing Trust), 250; cited in The Promise of World Peace, 11.
3. Shoghi Effendi, The World Order of Bahá'u'lláh (Wilmette: Bahá'í Publishing Trust, 1974), 202; cited in The Promise of World Peace, 18-19.
4. The Promise of World Peace, 19.
5. Bahá'u'lláh, Tablets of Bahá'u'lláh (Haifa: Bahá'í World Centre, 1978), 125; cited in The Promise of World Peace, 5.
6. Shoghi Effendi, The World Order of Bahá'u'lláh (Wilmette: Bahá'í Publishing Trust, 1974), 41- 42.
7. Ibid., 42.