Reading list for December 2013

Here are the books I finished last month.

Agemoglu, Daron and Robinson, James A: Why Nations Fail. The Origins of Power, Prosperity and Poverty (2013). A good span-of-history book, which asserts the importance of political institutions in explaining why some countries are rich and others poor. The authors show how countries are impoverished by kleptocratic rulers who steal their countries’ resources on a massive scale and obstruct local enterprise by allocating monopoly to their families and other cronies. The authors also note how several states (such as Columbia) fail at their most basic task of maintaining control over their territory, and how others (such as Argentina) have systematically looted the savings of their ordinary citizens. However, the authors do not discuss how democratic political institutions can themselves become corrupted such that wealth is increasingly concentrated in elites who become secure from taxes or effective regulation.

Armstrong, John: In Search of Civilisation (2009). This is a short but engrossing discussion of the meaning of civilisation. Armstrong is able to put philosophical ideas into simple language, illustrated by poetry, literature and history. I would have liked some discussion of how civilised ways of life can co-exist in the same society with gross barbarity.

Galbraith, Richard: The Cuckoo’s Calling (2013). This is a tremendous thriller, written by JK Rowling. There is a wide range of loathsome suspects, each of whom typifies a different aspect of the corrupting wealth of London society. The detective is at first presented as the cliché of the man with integrity who has failed in his personal and work life. His new temporary secretary appears empty-headed. But the reader’s understanding of both of them is transformed as the book progresses. This is the best murder mystery I have read.

Goudsblom, Johan and Mennell, Stephen: The Norbert Elias Reader (1998). I dipped into this book, which summarised the work of the great sociologist Norbert Elias. Unlike most of his kind, Elias knew that a good understanding of history is essential in understanding social stability and change. His work was highly-regarded by such eminent historians as Eric Hobsbawm. I read one Elias book in November, and will tackle others later this year.

Lyman, Robert: Japan’s Last Bid for Victory. The Invasion of India 1944 (2011). This book filled a gap in my knowledge of the brutal campaign in Assam, when Japan began an invasion of India in the hope that this would set off a popular uprising against British rule. Each stage of the campaign is described in details, including the appalling siege of Kohima, when the British and Japanese fought without a break for days across opposite sides of a tennis court. The staggering brutality of the Japanese army is described, and how this strengthened the determination of the British. If you knew that the Japanese killed all their prisoners, then you never surrendered. 
                               
Suchet, David: Poirot and Me (2013). This was a Christmas present from my daughter Rosemarie. It was signed by David Suchet at the Chepstow Literary Festival. Rosemarie met the great man, gave him a picture of Poirot she had drawn, and then burst into tears. The book is an engaging read, and illustrates how a great character actor works hard to understand the character he plays. 

There was also one book I began but did not complete:

Schama, Simon: The Story of the Jews, Volume 1 (2013). This is a fascinating subject, but proved frustrating to read. Schama seems uncertain of his readership. It would have been helpful for those of us who are not Jews to have had more background information about Jewish religion and customs. The main problem, however, is that Schama is not a narrative historian, and that the book was developed from a television series. As a result, the book seems oddly episodic.

Thinking about the Good Samaritan.

The parable of the good Samaritan appears in Chapter 10 of the Gospel of St Luke. Jesus was posed a question by a lawyer, as follows:

    Behold, a certain lawyer stood up and tested him, saying, “Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?” He said to him, “What is written in the law? How do you read it?” He answered, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, with all your mind, [Deuteronomy 6:5]; and your neighbour as yourself [Leviticus 19:18].” He said to him, “You have answered correctly. Do this, and you will live.” But he, desiring to justify himself, asked Jesus, “Who is my neighbour?”

    Jesus answered, “A certain man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and he fell among robbers, who both stripped him and beat him, and departed, leaving him half dead. By chance a certain priest was going down that way. When he saw him, he passed by on the other side. In the same way a Levite also, when he came to the place, and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a certain Samaritan, as he travelled, came where he was. When he saw him, he was moved with compassion, came to him, and bound up his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. He set him on his own animal, and brought him to an inn, and took care of him. On the next day, when he departed, he took out two denarii, and gave them to the host, and said to him, ‘Take care of him. Whatever you spend beyond that, I will repay you when I return.’ Now which of these three do you think seemed to be a neighbour to him who fell among the robbers?”

    He said, “He who showed mercy on him.” Then Jesus said to him, “Go and do likewise.”

Like many such parables, the story of the Good Samaritan can be interpreted in several ways. The simplest reading is that Jesus commended giving time and money to strangers who are in desperate need. It is the opposite, in other words, of the common statement that ‘charity begins at home’. This interpretation of the parable is exemplified by the organisation called the ‘Samaritans’, which recruits volunteers to answer phone calls from people confronting despair and contemplating suicide. The effectiveness of the Samaritans is shown by the suicide rate in the UK, which is among the lowest in Europe.

The parable of the Good Samaritan also says something important about the nature of love. Love is not just an emotional state or ‘feeling’, but an emotion expressed in action. To be saved, therefore, Jesus proposed that a person must both love God and directly help those in distress. Just loudly proclaiming that you are ‘born again’ is insufficient. Note too that the command expressed in Leviticus also requires us to love our neighbour as yourself. In other words, we are unlikely to effectively express love for others (even strangers) if we despise ourselves.

There are two further questions we can ask about this parable. The first is why Jesus specifically mentions a priest and a Levite (a tribe which had priestly functions). It may be that Jesus specified these respected members of Jewish society as a dramatic contrast with the Samaritan. But another reason may be that both priests and Levites at that time would be concerned with maintaining their ritual purity, which would have been lost if they had contacted a dead or ‘half-dead’ man. Jesus (despite the behaviour of many of those who claim to be his followers) was never critical of Judaism, but was a religious reformer. In particular, his parables and sayings emphasise that we judge people’s actions by their intent and consequences, and that this takes priority over adherence to religious law.

The second question is why the benevolent person in the parable is specifically a Samaritan. The Samaritans are a religious group (which still survives in Syria), with patterns of belief similar to Judaism. At the time of the parable, there was intense and violent rivalry between these two religions, similar to that today between some Sunni and Shia Muslims, or, in the recent past, between Protestant and Catholic Christians. So the audience for the parable would have viewed a Samaritan as an enemy. So much so, that the lawyer can not bring himself to say the name ‘Samaritan’ when Jesus asked him the question at the end of the parable.

So Jesus argued that all people - even strangers - even our enemies - are our ‘neighbours’, and therefore deserve our love. Throughout history, no words of Jesus have been betrayed as much as these. The last two millenniums have been a grim record of genocide between people from different factions of Christianity, or by Christians against people from different religions, against people who speak different languages or salute different flags, and against people with allegiance to rival ideas of how society should be organised. One example will suffice. The First Crusade, in which European Christian warriors captured Jerusalem, began with the slaughter of 8000 Jews in Germany and concluded with the mass murder of 70,000 people all religions in Jerusalem. The victorious knights literally waded in blood up to their knees on the way to church to celebrate the man who told them to love their enemies.