Chapter 1
What we see unfolding at the start of this century is no ordinary kind of turbulence. For the globalised world born out of the ruins of the Cold War, it may be that this turbulence will shake us out of a too lengthy prehistory both morally and intellectually, and help found a new world. But equally, it may turn out to cause destruction and disintegration and be the prelude to painful decline.
Will a way be found for the world’s populations — which evolution has forced into permanent contact with each other despite all their differences of religion, colour, language, history and traditions — to coexist in peace and harmony? The question is a real one in every country and every city, as well as on a global level. And at present, the reply remains uncertain. Whether we think of countries where different communities have coexisted for centuries, or those which have accepted significant numbers of immigrants within recent decades, it is clear that mistrust and incomprehension are growing to the point where all integration policies are compromised, as is simple coexistence. Many elections and debates today are weighed down by this thorny issue, which encourages identity tensions and xenophobia, especially in Europe, where some of the most tolerant societies have become irritated, embittered and entrenched over it. But at the same time, we have seen surprising reversals in the perception of the Other, stemming from less visible developments in people’s attitudes, the most revealing and spectacular example being the advent of Barack Obama.
The global debate on coexistence is not going to go away. Violent or muted, explicit or implicit, it will remain with us throughout this century and for centuries to come. Our planet is a closely woven web of different populations, all of which are conscious of their identity and of the regard in which they are held by others; they are also aware of the rights they want to win or hold on to, and believe that they both need others and need to protect themselves from them. There is no point in waiting for the tensions between them to lose their edge simply with the passage of time. There are, after all, peoples who have lived side by side for centuries without ever achieving mutual respect or peaceful coexistence. Overcoming prejudices and hatred is not innate to human nature. Acceptance of others is no more or less natural than rejection. Reconciliation, uniting, adopting, taming and pacifying are acts of will, acts of civilisation which demand lucidity and perseverance; acts which need to be acquired, taught and cultivated. Teaching people to live together is a long struggle which is never completely won. It requires calm reflection, skilful teaching, appropriate legislation and effective institutions. Living in the Levant before emigrating to Europe, I often had occasion to observe the difference it made to a society when such a battle was fought with determination and subtlety as opposed to being neglected, or clumsily and incoherently executed.
Today that battle needs to be waged on a global scale for the whole of humanity, and also within each population. Clearly that is not yet happening, at least not enough. We talk constantly of the global village, and it is true that thanks to progress in communications, our planet has become a single economic space, as well as a single political and media space. But that makes mutual hatreds all the more apparent.
In particular, the rift between the West and the Arab-Muslim world has continued to grow in recent years, to the point where it now seems almost beyond repair. I am one of those who feel sorrow at this every day, but there are many who have got used to it and some who even relish it, ignoring the huge potential for violence that this clash may harbour, which casts a dark shadow over our common future. The deadly terrorist attacks which have blighted the past few years are examples of this potential. Those of 11 September 2001 have already entered our new century’s history as a monstrous atrocity. Acts similarly inspired have taken place on every continent, from Nairobi to Madrid, Bali to London, via Djerba, Algiers, Casablanca, Beirut, Amman, Taba, Jerusalem, Istanbul, Beslan or Mumbai, not to mention Baghdad.
It is true that such attacks, however violent they may be, do not threaten to annihilate the world as the Soviet and American thermonuclear arsenals did during the Cold War. They could nonetheless turn out to be extremely deadly, especially if in the future they involve so-called non-conventional weapons — chemical, biological, atomic or something else. Moreover the resultant social, political and economic disruption they could cause would be devastating.
But I prefer to think that another major attack can be avoided, which fortunately remains plausible. In the countries under the greatest threat, the authorities have reacted firmly and effectively. So as not to be caught out, they are trying to anticipate and detect the smallest risk. It would be irresponsible to reproach them for this. However, it goes without saying that a society which feels the need to protect itself permanently from unscrupulous enemies inevitably moves away from strict respect for laws and principles. As a result, an enduring terrorist threat cannot but disrupt the functioning of democracy in the long term.
One day we will remember these cursed years as those when the most civilised police force in the world pinned a young Brazilian commuter to the floor in the London Underground; he was entirely innocent but his skin was somewhat swarthy. He was summarily killed with seven bullets to the head.
The clash of civilisations is not a debate about the respective merits of Erasmus versus Avicenna, alcohol or the veil, or over sacred texts. It is a global drift towards xenophobia, discrimination, ethnic humiliation, massacres and reprisals. In other words, the erosion of all that gives human civilisation its moral dignity.
In such an atmosphere, even those who are persuaded to fight barbarism eventually succumb to it in their turn. Terrorist violence begets anti-terrorist violence, which feeds resentment, facilitating the task of those who recruit extremists and paving the way for future attacks. Is a given population regarded with suspicion because it plants bombs, or does it plant bombs because it is regarded with suspicion? It is the old story of the chicken and the egg, and there is no point in seeking an answer, for there is none. Everyone will have their own answer, dictated by their fears, prejudices, origins and suffering. The vicious circle needs to be broken, but from the moment the mechanism is set in motion, it is hard to withdraw your hand.
How can one not fear decline in such a context? If the current hostility between the planet’s various tribes were to persist, and the disorder in all fields go on, the world would experience an erosion of democracy, the rule of law and all social norms in the course of this century.
I for one refuse to consider this inevitable, but it is clear that we shall have to deploy the full range of our ingenuity, vision and determination to stand any chance of avoiding it.
Chapter 2
Since I began work on this book, an allegorical image has haunted me: a group of climbers is scaling a cliff and, because of some sudden shock, they have begun to lose their footing. I have been trying to understand why these men risk coming unstuck and how they could reattach themselves to the rock face in order to resume their ascent, without dwelling too much on imagining what would happen if they fell into the abyss.
I speak of it in terms of a mountaineering accident, as that is rather how it seems when I reflect on the course of the world. I am not unaware that, in history, the notion of an accident is often deceptive. However, I am not going to abandon it entirely. Whatever contemporary and past moralists have said, humanity does not deserve the punishment that the coming decades might inflict. Nor shall I plead innocence, or put it down to bad luck or the quirks of fate. However, I believe that what is happening to us, rather than being the consequence of our failures and oversights, is in fact the consequence of our successes, our accomplishments, our legitimate ambitions, our equally legitimate freedom and the incomparable genius of our species.
In spite of the things that irritate and worry me, I remain fascinated by the human adventure; I cherish and venerate it and nothing in the world would persuade me to exchange it for the life of an angel or a beast. We are Prometheus’s children; Creation has been entrusted to us and we must continue it. We have undertaken the task of reshaping the universe and if there is a supreme Creator above, we merit His pride as much as His wrath.
Are we not now paying the price for this Promethean boldness and the frantic race to the summit? Probably, but we have no reason to be repentant — not for our inventions, even the craziest, nor for the freedoms we have
