My personal take is that it is not that there is good aid or bad aid, but that the circumstances in each situation will determine if it is effective aid or not.  Throwing money at a problem will never completely solve it.  If the underlying issues are not addressed, it’s just good money and effort after bad.  And in particular so if aid agencies, humanitarian organizations and governments don’t recognize the power in grassroots communities and in each individual.  We need to harnass the potentialities latent in each member of the human race, empowering them to become a source of social good and development.

And you really don’t need to go further than the story of William Kamkwamba to see what I mean. At 14, the Malawian boy is forced to drop out of school for lack of fees.  Inspired by a book in the village library (donated by a development agency!), William decides to build a windmill in order to provide electricity for his family home.  He is undettered by the fact that he is not very educated, that he has no access to materials and parts for the windmill, or that no-one has ever done it before.  Relying mostly on the illustrations in the book, and scrounging for scrap metal and materials others have thrown away, and ignoring the ridicule aimed at him, William built a crude but effective windmill which powered four light bulbs, a radio and cellphone charger.

Since he built his first windmill, William has gone on to build five more, in and around his village.  He has been given a scholarship to the African Leadership Academy in South Africa.  He has given talks and speeches at international conferences and received worldwide acclaim.  He is working on projects dealing with HIV, malaria, solar power and clean water. And last month, at the age of 22, his autobiography “The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind” was released worldwide.

When  I read his story, and watched him speak, William humbled me, but most importantly, gave me hope.  And reminded me of the emphasis the Baha’i Faith places on the potentialities in each one of us, and of our duty to make the most of them:

Regard man as a mine rich in gems of inestimable value. Education can, alone, cause it to reveal its treasures, and enable mankind to benefit therefrom…

Is any larger bounty conceivable than this, that an individual, looking within himself, should find that by the confirming grace of God he has become the cause of peace and well-being, of happiness and advantage to his fellow men? No, by the one true God, there is no greater bliss, no more complete delight.

The drama of it all is not lost on me. The excitement, the rush of blood to the head, the endorphines. I get it. Sports are a big deal. For countless reasons. Some meritorious; others not so much.

Regardless of the pros and cons of local, national and international sporting events, how can any one of us feel comfortable living in a world where a company is willing to shell out 132 million dollars for a soccer player while entire pockets of the population in nearby regions die of malaria because they don’t have access to the 10 dollars needed to purchase a bed net.

Clearly our financial woes are not solely material. Our financial problems are deeply rooted in the decaying morality of a materialistic credo that gorges on frivolity, o.d.’s on self-centered pleasure pursuits and panics at the thought of having to prolong gratification for any considerable amount of time.

Does this mean we should send our money off right now to XY&Z agency so that it can buy mosquito nets for those who need them? Is that the solution? It might help, but it’s like plugging one leak in a dam so filled with holes it’s about 10 seconds away from bursting. I’m not discouraging charity. I’m just saying it’s not enough. A solely material solution to one ramification of a moral crisis is not going to rebuild the dam. Besides, with countless episodes of corrupt leaders whose sticky fingers dripping in greed just can’t seem to find their way out of the money jar, it’s not entirely implausible that your capital will help a self-indulgent hypocrite finance his or her latest vacation home.

The problems are complex. The symptoms are overwhelming. And as a first step we need to rightly diagnose the disease. If we keep insisting that impoverished nations, for instance, need nothing more than money thrown at them, or that populations dying of venerial diseases simply need more condoms, the overwhelming symptoms will not only never disappear, they will continue to amass until there really is no hope.

So then is the solution merely spiritual? Should we all organize 24-hour prayer campaigns and write pretty songs and lengthy blog posts to praise peace and talk about how we’re all one and the children are our future? Is that going to feed the starving children? Is that going to cure the diseased?

For an entire nation to be lifted out of poverty, you can’t just erase debt and then hope the nation doesn’t amass it again.  I don’t think there are easy answers or simple solutions to any of this. You can’t wave a wand and expect fundamental problems to just vanish.  But you can’t avoid problems simply because you don’t have the solutions. These age-old problems need new approaches. The people of the world need to be empowered.  The most oppressed from among us need to have a voice. Not just a venue in which to speak. But they need to actually be given tools to learn how to use their voices.

Part II will focus on what actually constitutes oppression, as well as some of the fledgling movements aimed at empowering all human beings.

I asked this in my last post, and since then, I couldn’t help but notice a proliferation of angsty articles that asked: If not capitalism, then what?

There was Newsweek (“We are all Socialists now”), the Financial Times (“The Future of Capitalism”), and Time Magazine (“The End of Excess: Is this Crisis Good for America?”).

You may also note that I wrote my article an embarrassingly long time ago.  I could say that it’s because I’ve been busy (which is true), but it also has to do with the fact that I simply couldn’t find an answer to the question I posed.

Well, I still don’t know the answer.  But lucky for you all, I had a few “see the light” moments this week.

So I’ve talked about economics– most of us take as fact that economic activity is the central process of social existence.  And that knowledge– often labeled as “information”– is useful inasmuch as it’s an input for the production of goods and services.  This is reflective of a view of society that is rooted in materialism, one manifestation of which is the belief, held as truth, that economic development lies in economic growth, which is measured by GDP per capita.  Indeed, the idea of “economic development” has largely materialistic assumptions underlying the process: that growth and development is characterized by material well-being.

Material well-being is crucial, of course.  But is it really the end, or a means to an end?  What is the end we’re looking for?  Right now, it seems that economic activity and the creation of wealth is being placed at the center of everything.  But is the creation and distribution of wealth the end to which we should strive?

The Prosperity of Humankind, the 1995 document that I also quoted from in my last post, makes an interesting assertion:

The tasks entailed in the development of a global society call for levels of capacity far beyond anything the human race has so far been able to muster.  Reaching these levels will require an enormous expansion in access to knowledge, on the part of the individuals and social organizations alike.  Universal education will be an indispensable contributor to this process of capacity building, but the effort will succeed only as human affairs are so reorganized as to enable both individuals and groups in every sector of society to acquire knowledge and apply it to the shaping of human affairs.

In other words, rather than the creation and distribution of wealth as the center of development (development as the distribution of material wealth), what’s being posited is development as the endowment of the wealth of knowledge: not only the generation and acquisition of knowledge, but its application.  Given this, knowledge, rather than material wealth, then becomes the “currency” by which one needs to function, the wealth of a person, in a sense.  In this regard, ‘Abdu’l-Baha writes in His treatise to the peoples and rulers of Persia, The Secret of Divine Civilization:

…the happiness and greatness, the rank and station, the pleasure and peace, of an individual have never consisted in his personal wealth, but rather in his excellent character, his high resolve, the breadth of his learning, and his ability to solve difficult problems.

The generation and application of knowledge, then, becomes the center of humanity’s collective existence. What is necessary for this is capacity-building: that all participation of all, that all become the protagonists of their own development.  For example, the present state of the world is such that much of humanity are “users of products of science and technology created elsewhere.” But sometimes, these products of science and technology may, at best, not be applicable to the needs of a community or society, or at its worst, be detrimental to its environment, lead to the loss of livelihoods, of land, and so on.  But if individuals in a community were raised up with the capacity to examine and address challenges in their communities and societies, and apply the knowledge with which they’ve been endowed, then we’d shift away from a top-down model that, in many respects, has become quite problematic.

So what has started as a conversation on capitalism, communism, and a future models of economic has (rather unintentionally) turned into one that flips the way we look at economic activity– asking us, what if it isn’t the be-all, end-all?  If we’re seeking a world in which all have a part to play (as the present state of affairs is not reflective of that, where the materially wealthy holding a seemingly insurmountable advantage over the materially poor), then certainly the paradigm that exists today must undergo a change.

I’m not as confused as I was the night I was sipping borscht in the candlelight, but the fact that I’ve struggled to eke out this post means that we’ve still got a long way to go.  Thoughts are most welcome.

The five of us sat around a candlelit table, and I wrapped my scarf tightly around my neck, warming my hands over the tealights (“The heater never works downstairs!” Justin apologized), grabbing a glimpse of the world of three former Peace Corps volunteers in Ukraine and Nicaragua.

My friend Justin had invited me over that evening, via a message on Facebook: “I’m back in town! I live in a green row house on Capitol Hill! Come have borscht with us on Friday!” (I looked it up on Wikipedia. It was pink, and a soup. I almost backed out.)

So there I was, with an old friend from my carefree days as an intern, who used to wear thick black-rimmed glasses, dressed up as Borat for Halloween before Borat became a household name, and taught me how to play Coldplay on his electric piano. He and his roommate Kelly had just returned from two years of the Peace Corps in Ukraine, while Carly, Justin’s childhood friend, had spent her term in Nicaragua, warding off Dengue fever and attracting the indefatigable attention of locals who called her “La Chinita” (she’s of Korean descent).

As our ideas, experiences, and observations on the world– afar and in our backyard– mingled through the atmosphere that hovered above the tealights and the borscht, that one gray topic arose that has tinted many otherwise cheery Friday evening conversations: the financial crisis.

“I used to teach my students that our economy ran on debt,” Justin declared exasperatedly, of his post as a high school business class teacher in a small eastern Ukrainian town. “That a culture of debt was normal in the U.S. For two years!”

But as he and Kelly revealed more about their years in Ukraine, one thing became certain: The economic culture in that country, too, has its downfalls. Capitalist in name, to be sure, but the scornful looks they received when asking for correct change made them feel like Capitalist Pigs.

In a land where bronze Lenin statues still sprouted in town squares like stale dandelions from bygone seasons, the communism of its past still lingered in the air, it seemed.

With one foot in the realm of capitalism and another still dancing in the communist ways of decades past, its people still bore remnants of habits and norms of a discarded system. And, Ukranian and Russian media propagated exaggerated notions of excessive materialism in the United States, causing some to cling more tightly to their ways. While the capitalist system relied too heavily on “pulling oneself up by the bootstraps,” and American ways admittedly excessively individualistic, the Ukrainian culture’s emphasis on the collective and de-emphasis on personal responsibility wasn’t altogether healthy, they observed.

All of this made me wonder: In a certainly post-communist world, and with many capitalist assumptions crumbling that once held to be true– what might the economics of the future look like?

Now, I don’t profess to know much about economics, nor can I say much about post-Soviet economies. In fact, I know just as much about those two as I did borscht prior to that evening (which, by the way, is quite tasty if taken with a bit of sour cream, and in fact isn’t as pink as Wikipedia made it out to be).

But luckily, I’ve been reading the writings of Baha’u'llah, which has made my brain bubble the way Justin’s borscht did as I suspiciously stared at it stewing in the tin pot. So much so that much of what I want to say cannot fit into a meager blog post. And it’s gotten me thinking about: balance, dichotomous ways of looking at economics, how economic growth is defined, and where justice fits into all of this.

I’ll continue these nascent thoughts in Part II, but in the meanwhile, I’ll leave you with a quotation that asks us to shift our paradigm on economics and development. It’s from a statement prepared by the Baha’i International Community, the NGO representing the worldwide Baha’i community with its offices at the United Nations in New York and Geneva. Called The Prosperity of Humankind, it was first distributed at the U.N. World Summit on Social Development in Copenhagen in 1995. While written over a decade ago, the words are chillingly relevant to the present state of the world. Hopefully, it’ll get your brain bubbling, too:

This unprecedented economic crisis, together with the social breakdown it has helped to engender, reflects a profound error of conception about human nature itself. For the levels of response elicited from human beings by the incentives of the prevailing order are not only inadequate, but seem almost irrelevant in the face of world events. We are being shown that, unless the development of society finds a purpose beyond the mere amelioration of material conditions, it will fail of attaining even these goals. That purpose must be sought in spiritual dimensions of life and motivation that transcend a constantly changing economic landscape and an artificially imposed division of human societies into ‘developed’ and ‘developing’.

– The Prosperity of Humankind

Finished watching?

Let’s reflect for a moment on the video and then turn our thoughts towards the bigger picture…

The Biofuel Conundrum

Biofuel production is without doubt one hot topic these days. It provokes an entire spectrum of opinions from advocates and critics alike. Having initially been devised as a mechanism to reduce the world’s dependence on crude oil, the mass production of biofuel using food crops has precipitated another crisis — in the form of rocketing food prices and increased global famine. What are the possible reasons for this wretched situation? Was this outcome inevitable, or was it somehow avoidable?

Being a regular user of public transport, I’ve had to endure yet another rise in the base taxi fare, as well as a significant price rise for bus tickets, all in the past month. Clearly, biofuels haven’t lowered fuel prices — not for me anyway — and the trip over to the local grocery store is becoming more and more of a nervous window-shopping experience. So what exactly has gone wrong?

As usual, I dive into the World Wide Web to try and figure things out. A Time magazine article, Solving the Biofuels vs. Food Problem, points out that in 2006 alone the U.S. produced 4.86 billion gallons of corn ethanol. That sounds like a lot, but what does it really mean? Well, United Nations expert Jean Ziegler, explains that it takes the same amount of corn to produce 13 gallons of ethanol as it does to feed a child for one year. Divide 4.86 billion by 13 and we have 374 million starving children who could have been fed, all by a single country!! And this was back in 2006 — I can only imagine the numbers would have shot up by now. Ziegler, clearly exasperated by this situation, goes on to comment:

…the effect of transforming hundreds and hundreds of thousands of tons of maize, of wheat, of beans, of palm oil, into agricultural fuel is absolutely catastrophic for the hungry people… So it’s a crime against humanity… What has to be stopped is… the growing catastrophe of the massacre (by) hunger in the world.

Based on this statistic alone, it would take a foolhardy person to reject Ziegler’s statement outright.

When Baha’u'llah, Prophet Founder of the Baha’i Faith, pronounced that the prevailing world order is “lamentably defective”, need we look any further for proof?

Couldn’t They Have Waited?

Both Ziegler and the author of the Time article state that non-food alternatives for biofuel, such as switchgrass (which is energy-efficient) and Jatropha shrubs (which grow well on poor land), are only a few years away from becoming viable for mass production. The Science Blog reports on an even more promising alternative, a grass called Miscanthus. Why then, do the economically advantaged countries not wait a little while longer? Surely it should be obvious that all this excess corn can quite easily feed the world’s hungry population. Why do these countries ruthlessly trade human lives in order for their citizens to drive a few extra miles on the highway?

In the masterpiece entitled Century of Light, which examines the successes and failures of the 20th century, the The Universal House of Justice explains:

Tragically, what Bahá’ís see in present-day society is unbridled exploitation of the masses of humanity by greed that excuses itself as the operation of “impersonal market forces”… What they find themselves struggling against daily is the pressure of a dogmatic materialism, claiming to be the voice of “science”, that seeks systematically to exclude from intellectual life all impulses arising from the spiritual level of human consciousness.

(Commissioned by The Universal House of Justice, Century of Light, p. 137)

This captures, in essence, what Baha’is believe to be the root cause of humanity’s ills. What is completely disregarded by our present economic and political systems are those universal spiritual qualities spoken of in the Holy Books of the world’s religions — justice, honesty, trustworthiness, generosity, love of one’s neighbour and so on. Indeed, it is puzzling to observe how these guiding principles, which govern the behaviour of righteous individuals across just about every society, are conveniently swept under the rug in debates on international policy.

Having said this, individual transformation, although vital, is alone not enough. It is becoming increasingly urgent for nations to acknowledge that they belong to a single common homeland known as planet Earth, and that the good of the whole can never be achieved without sincerely seeking the best for each and every part. This implies moving from a culture of competition for natural resources towards one of collaboration. The implications of this change of thinking would be nothing short of revolutionary, and revolution, it seems, is precisely what is needed.

Sure, it is easy to pass this off as some fanciful notion and continue seeking the latest popular explanation as to why our world systems are just so volatile. Commonly-heard phrases like “economic downturn”, “instability in the Middle East”, “rising interest rates”, “loss of investor confidence”, “farm subsidies” are forever making the rounds in the media, and people blindly accept these for the very reason that they are impersonal. These phrases, in my opinion, are comfortable to accept because they do not challenge the status quo. They do not challenge ingrained patterns of human and societal behaviour. Instead, all they do is mask the reality that we are governed by a system that has long passed it’s sell-by date; one which is described as “morally and intellectually bankrupt” by The Universal House of Justice. The only solution that will ensure a long-term future of peace and prosperity is spiritual — it can only be spiritual.

But what to do about the biofuel problem?

Ahh, the million dollar question. Obviously there is no such thing as a quick fix. Nevertheless, Baha’is believe that even the most complex economic problems can be solved through the application of spiritual principles. Now, supposing for a moment that Tony Deamer’s coconut fuel initiative in Vanuatu became a candidate for large-scale production. What are some questions that we would hope the Government would ask? What are some suggested potential international guidelines on this matter? Here is a quick list that came to my mind:

• What is the nutritional value of the crop in question? Is it a viable source of food for the world’s population?
• What is the current economic state of the country in question? In what ways can the money saved on importing fuel be channeled towards improving education, health care etc?
• Will the by-products of the fuel extraction process have any worth or be discarded as waste?
• What is the potential environmental impact in terms of greenhouse gas emissions etc?
• How do we “give back” to the land what has been taken from it?

In terms of coconut fuel in Vanuatu, you may find it interesting to read this article, in which Tony Deamer addresses some of the above questions.

Do you have any personal thoughts on this issue?

The Ruhi Institute is an educational system that was originally developed under the guidance of the Baha’i community of Colombia in the 1970s, and is now being used all over the world. Based on the Writings of the Baha’i Faith, the material aims at giving its participants an understanding of the presented topics, not only on a level that generates reflection and analysis, but, more crucially, on a level that facilitates action and change:

O SON OF DUST!

Verily I say unto thee; Of all men the most negligent is he that disputeth idly and seeketh to advance himself over his brother. Say, O brethren! Let deeds, not words, be your adorning.

(Baha’u'llah, The Persian Hidden Words)

The main sequence of the institute consists of seven books, each with a specific theme and an act of service tied to it. The books are studied in study circles consisting of one tutor and 3-10 participants. Some of the themes of the main sequence are “Reflections on the Life of the Spirit” and “Teaching Children’s Classes”. The last book of the sequence is a tutor training, after which the participant herself/himself can serve as a tutor.

The Ruhi Institute has come to spread all over the world, being used by Baha’is and their friends from the Kiribati Islands in the South Pacific Ocean to the Faeroe Islands and Iceland in Northern Europe. Of course, culture, weather and tradition influences the shape and expression of the study circles in different corners of the world, but they all have in common the purpose of educating and training their participants to be of service to their fellow beings and to mankind.

The Great Being saith: Regard man as a mine rich in gems of inestimable value. Education can, alone, cause it to reveal its treasures, and enable mankind to benefit therefrom.

(Baha’u'llah, Gleanings from the Writings of Baha’u'llah, p. 259)

Nevertheless, we observe a clash of two worlds. We see a demonstration of modern society’s “individual is king” ideology that tenaciously upholds individual rights and liberties, in this case the perceived right to safety. This right is a given, yet if it is established that the boys have not caused any harm and that they merely prefer walking in groups, should this factor not also be taken into consideration? One may also ask how much the group’s ethnic background had to do with the police decision, and so on and so forth, but this would be an entire discussion of it’s own! The key point here is that, even when dealing with notions of individual liberty, one should carefully weigh such rights against the principles of equity and moderation.

…Bahá’u'lláh “inculcates the principle of ‘moderation in all things’; declares that whatsoever, be it ‘liberty, civilization and the like’, ‘passeth beyond the limits of moderation’ must ‘exercise a pernicious influence upon men’…

(The Universal House of Justice, 1988 Dec 29, Individual Rights and Freedoms, p. 4)

Of course, moderation is also vital in ensuring that we resist the temptation to hop to the other end of the ideological spectrum, namely an excessive collectivist culture. Much has already been written about the “pernicious influence” of Communism in stifling the flame of individual creativity and dismissing the importance of religious faith. In an extract from “In The Quantum Self: A Revolutionary View of Human Nature and Consciousness Rooted in the New Physics”, Danah Zohar makes some compelling observations about such extremes, or “splits”, in our thinking:

The split between the individual and his relationships led on the one hand to an exaggerated individualism, to a selfish will to power and possession, and on the other to an enforced communitarianism like that of Marxism, which denied the meaning or importance of individuals at all while stressing the absolute primacy of relationship.

The split between culture and nature led both to relativism of all sorts — factual, moral, aesthetic and spiritual (value judgments) — and to dogma and extreme fundamentalism. There seemed no middle ground between the two extremes of saying that a given way of looking at things was only one of many contingent and relative ways of looking at them, or between saying there was only one, true and absolute way of looking at them. There seemed no way to say that we were not either wholly creatures of culture, and therefore unrooted in any established facts, or wholly creatures of nature (of the given), with no flexibility or room for creative development.

In the West, these dichotomies robbed our individuality of its context and landed us in the deepest isolation, leading to narcissism. We were cut off from an outer confirmation of our inner life, leading to nihilism, and denied the confirmation of our ideas, leaving us with relativism and subjectivism. Each nourished a form of alienation, and the sum total of this alienation is the curse of modernism.

Zohar’s conclusions on these fragmented approaches to understanding human reality are echoed in the Baha’i Writings. So, where do the Baha’is stand? It could be said that the Baha’i model lies at the confluence of several lines of thought; and while aspects of each are recognized and their worth acknowledged, none of them are accepted in isolation. For example, on the necessary relationship between the individual and the collective, Shoghi Effendi states:

We cannot segregate the human heart from the environment outside us and say that once one of these is reformed everything will be improved. Man is organic with the world. His inner life moulds the environment and is itself also deeply affected by it. The one acts upon the other and every abiding change in the life of man is the result of these mutual reactions.

(Compilations, The Compilation of Compilations vol. I, p. 84)

Similarly, in stressing the importance of both material as well as spiritual education, Abdu’l-Baha offers the perfect analogy of the lamp and the light during one of His talks in the United States:

Since my arrival in this country I find that material civilization has progressed greatly, that commerce has attained the utmost degree of expansion; arts, agriculture and all details of material civilization have reached the highest stage of perfection, but spiritual civilization has been left behind. Material civilization is like unto the lamp, while spiritual civilization is the light in that lamp. If the material and spiritual civilization become united, then we will have the light and the lamp together, and the outcome will be perfect. For material civilization is like unto a beautiful body, and spiritual civilization is like unto the spirit of life. If that wondrous spirit of life enters this beautiful body, the body will become a channel for the distribution and development of the perfections of humanity.

(Abdu’l-Baha, The Promulgation of Universal Peace, p. 11)

These passages only scratch the surface. Indeed, there is an enormous depth of knowledge in the Baha’i Writings in terms of gaining an appreciation of our role as individuals within society, on society’s effect on the individual, on the necessary duality of spiritual and material civilization.

The unease one feels when watching certain scenes in the film will hopefully force the viewer to question certain assumptions, leading to a deeper understanding of what it means to be human; an understanding that would harmonize rather than fragment, one that would accept that material existence is empty unless it is illumined by the light of the spirit, one that would acknowledge the totality of our existence both as creative individuals as well as vital actors in society.

The 2006 documentary film “God Grew Tired of Us” tells the story of a large group of Sudanese boys, known as the Lost Boys of Sudan, who escaped near certain death during the country’s civil war in the 1980s by walking hundreds of miles through barren lands, eventually into neighbouring Kenya. Arriving at a refugee camp desperately malnourished and on the verge of starvation, the boys spend the next decade living hand-to-mouth, at each moment wondering what became of their families and dreaming of returning to Sudan. Naturally, after all this shared suffering, the degree of friendship shared by these boys is immense — such that when the United States agrees to accept some of them as refugees, it is with a great deal of difficulty that they bid farewell to one another.

This is where the real story of the film begins. Arriving in the U.S. never having seen electricity, never having taken a shower much less experienced running water, their plight is seemingly helpless. Indeed, were one to stop watching the film at this point, one would expect this film to proceed in the same vein as so many others: another supposed success story of the “undeveloped” finding “development”", the “have-nots” finding the keys to “prosperity”, the “less civilized” at long last discovering “civilization”. With these patterns of classification so deeply prevalent in society, no one can be surprised at their consequences, not only in the way they affect the nature of our interpersonal relationships with those perceived as outsiders, but also in the unnumbered prejudices, both overt and subtle, that arise as a result.

Watching the film, however, a different picture begins to emerge. The film’s protagonists, after the initial shock of being thrust into their new environment, proceed to evaluate the nature of the this life as compared to life in the refugee camp.

The perspective they provide is truly eye-opening. One of them wonders why, at Christmas time, so much emphasis is placed on Christmas trees and Santa Claus — to paraphrase his comments: “Where are these things mentioned in the Bible? Nobody can answer this question for me. Back in the camp, at Christmas we used to dance to celebrate. We would also reflect on the birth of Christ’s and think about how to improve ourselves.” Another, who found a job at a local supermarket, talks about a distressing incident where a lady was crying and everyone passed by without caring to ask her what was wrong. He reached out to her, as was the custom back home, and she took the opportunity to open up to him (much to his own surprise, it must be added). All of them speak of the sense of isolation that they feel living in a society where group culture is non-existent and neighbours hardly talk to each other.

Today, all the peoples of the world are indulging in self-interest and exert the utmost effort and endeavour to promote their own material interests. They are worshipping themselves and not the divine reality, nor the world of mankind. They seek diligently their own benefit and not the common weal. This is because they are captives of the world of nature and unaware of the divine teachings, of the bounty of the Kingdom and of the Sun of Truth.

(Abdu’l-Baha, Selections from the Writings of Abdu’l-Baha, p. 103)

This film provides a striking demonstration of how the two dimensions of human existence, the material and the spiritual, should both be looked after in order to promote true human welfare. The lost boys of Sudan would never have achieved their dream of receiving a higher education were it not for the structural and material means afforded to them by moving to the United States. At the same time, by their simple yet moving commentary on the realities of life in the U.S. compared to back home, they display a maturity of insight that a purely secular system of schooling could never provide.

We must care for man’s two natures; for as the material man makes certain demands for food and raiment and if not looked after suffers, even so his spiritual reality suffers without care.

(Abdu’l-Baha, Divine Philosophy, p. 96)

Reflecting further, there are two pairs of themes that are at play here, which historically have given rise to failed or failing ideologies. These themes are touched on somewhat indirectly during the film, yet in a sense they encapsulate the context that the boys find themselves in. In the next part, I will identify these themes and try to examine them.

Meanwhile, I suggest renting this film and watching it — it’s well worth it.

I have a plan: I want to buy a sewing-machine and earn my own living. I want to teach my brothers to read, and then I want to continue studying all the subjects we have studied here.

These are the words of a 25-year old woman from the village Siswala in India, as she is leaving the Barli Institute after completing a six-month program. Born and raised in one of the poorest areas of India, where education and training of women is almost inconceivable, her time at the Barli Institue has clearly changed the direction of her life.

Since 1985, the Barli Institute of Development for Rural Women, situated in the state of Madhya Pradesh in central India, has changed the lives of thousands of women from poor villages by teaching them to read and write, handicrafts,  hygiene and personal development. Returning to their villages, they have been able to contribute to the economy of the household, take better care of the children and home and become supporting “pillars” in their families, as well as the whole village. This is where the name of the institute comes from; Barli means pillar.

The project is supported by the Baha’i Community in cooperation with the Swedish International Development Agency (SIDA). It was founded by Mrs. Janak McGilligan, who at the time was a young woman with a degree in social sciences from Punjab University. She has since then been running the Institute as its director together with her husband, Mr James McGilligan.

The vital question of education of women — far from being a matter of course in some parts of the world -– is indispensible for the advancement of civilization. Abdu’l-Bahá, in expounding the principle of equality of the sexes, tells us:

Daughters and sons must follow the same curriculum of study, thereby promoting unity of the sexes. When all mankind shall receive the same opportunity of education and the equality of men and women be realized, the foundations of war will be utterly destroyed. Without equality this will be impossible because all differences and distinction are conducive to discord and strife. Equality between men and women is conducive to the abolition of warfare for the reason that women will never be willing to sanction it… There is no doubt that when women obtain equality of rights, war will entirely cease among mankind.

Applying this universal principle to the poor villages of central India is the purpose of the Barli-institute. Supporting the economy, participating in the decision-making processes of their villages and passing on the knowledge gained to their children are some of the many ways that the participants contribute to development.

By giving women an education, they are given the key to independence and influence — they are given the possiblity to have a plan.

The falcon preyeth not on a dead mouse.

(Baha’u'llah, The Seven Valleys)

The concept of motion is a principle that the Bahá’í Faith derives much energy from – not only in its intonations on personal spiritual development, but also in the implications it holds for the betterment of mankind as a whole. The above quotation is from a poem of Rumi, and is quoted in the Sacred Writings of the Bahá’í Faith, I reason, to explicate this point of movement.

Motion is often related and tied to the conceptions of love, service, creativity, perception and insight. We are counseled in the Bahá’í Writings to “seek neither rest nor composure” but to continually strive to achieve the betterment of the world and of ourselves. The “Falcon”, I think, can therefore encompass many different interpretations. It can take the form of a hardened will, a continually growing desire to motivate oneself in positive directions; there is the movement of the mind, to constantly strive towards creativity and innovation; and ultimately, I believe, it may come to us in the appearance of Divine assistance, which I believe, is inextricably linked to that of spiritual development and envelopes all other planes of existence.

Should there be ignited in thy heart the burning brand of the love of God, thou wouldst seek neither rest nor composure, neither laughter nor repose, but wouldst hasten to scale the highest summits in the realms of divine nearness, sanctity, and beauty.

(Baha’u'llah, Gems of Divine Mysteries, p. 13)

In light of the past few posts on issues pertaining to our world’s natural resources, education and moral development (and in truth, to the purpose of this blog), motion is the outward expression of love in the world that must needs be understood and harnessed. How many of the world’s problems today are due to negligence and apathy, estrangement and inattention? Examples, in this case, would be completely exhaustive and overwhelming, and are likewise being cataloged in this forum. The world cannot afford more time spent immobile.

This is my first post. As such, I make these initial statements general, but foundational nonetheless. My next one will focus on the concept of guilt.