Benares on the Charles

"Enthusiasm: Possession by a god, supernational inspiration, prophetic or poetic ecstasy..." The Oxford Universal Dictionary

THE ONLY THING that scares a narrow-minded person more than a nihilist is an enthusiast. For, while it has become fashionable to precede many intellectual discussions with a credo of disbelief (in the name of scientific abstraction), the old saw against those who wish to "destroy without first building an alternative system" is a great weapon for the entrenched self-righteous. It is much harder, though, to fight positive enthusiasm. One can do little more than snarl, "naive and simplistic pseudo-philosophy" when confronted with, say, a new religious sect.

Glib cynicism often greets attacks on existing society, yet the outbursts against members of groups like Hare Krishna are generally hysterical. Perhaps the contrast can be explained by the uneasiness--sometimes terror--people have felt since before the time of Socrates when faced with something they do not understand. Thus, a financier may quite coldly denounce a Marxist critique of the capitalist system, but when he is told that his son or daughter has joined a mystical Oriental sect he goes frantic trying to combat a system that baffles him.

Today, enthusiasm's original meaning has been diluted. In the 18th century, labelling someone an enthusiast could mean that they were either visionary or self-deluded or both. The word had a double edge.

Reading Harvey Cox's latest book, Turning East, one gets the impression that the present American preoccupation with religions and philosophies of the East is best conveyed by the now-obsolete definition of enthusiasm. Cox, Thomas Professor at the Divinity School, intended to explore the impact of the "New Orientalism" on American society. He began by investigating the activities of groups as diverse as Zen Buddhists and Sufi dancers and finished as an active participant.

At first, he didn't have to travel far for material--Cambridge is the center for so many Neo-Oriental movements that it has been called "Benares-on-the-Charles." Interest in the Orient has not sprung up overnight in this country like some magical circle of mushrooms. A fascination with the faraway and the unfamiliar is especially pronounced among Americans whose ancestors must have had a similar burning inquisitiveness (as well as economic need) to leave the Old World for the New. And the China trade, even more than the old legends of Marco Polo or the march of the conquistadores towards the fabled treasures of the Orient, awakened national curiosity about civilizations that were at once bizarre and incredibly rich. Then, too, in the early 19th century, Cox recounts, groups such as the transcendentalists were inspired by the East. However, the present situation has changed significantly:

In previous decades, interest in Oriental philosophy was confined mostly to intellectuals and was centered largely on ideas, not on devotional practices. There is no evidence that Emerson ever sat in a full lotus. Today, on the other hand, not only are large numbers of people who are in no sense "intellectuals" involved, but they appear more interested in actual religious practices than in doctrinal ideas. The recent wave of interest in Oriental forms of spirituality seems both broader and deeper than in the ones that preceded it.

Cox explains that he began his researches from a detached-observer position, determined to give a "fair" description of movements which he was not personally involved with. However, as the time passed, he found himself emotionally (and not just academically) caught up in the phenomenon he was researching. The results were unexpected. What had begun as a survey of the various Eastern religious organizations over the country at large turned into more of an autobiographical essay. Cox moved from bending-over-backwards-to-avoid-bias against what he initially considered to be "inward" and "socially passive" philosophies (this stance, Cox wryly admits, was "tepid, commendably moderate, and, above all, dull"). From this position, he turned to discussing the impact on individuals of the "New Orientalism," the historical and modern-day forces within the American systems that have prepared people for these messages, and the potential effects of Orientalism on Americans and vice versa. Cox uses his own experience in specific in order to write a spiritual biography of groups of people in general.

The greatest danger facing the writer of such a "critical autobiography" (once having donned the rosy lenses of enthusiasm) may well be losing the ability to distinguish the sincere practitioners of a faith from the charlatans. However, Cox explains that his own involvement in such practices as meditation actually had the reverse effect: he found himself less tolerant of people such as students of Buddhism, who ostentatiously carried around their meditation cushions and bragged about transcendental experiences, than he had been initially.

In reflections on Ghandi, George Orwell once penned words that Cox seems to have followed: "Saints should always be judged guilty until they are proved innocent." Given the fact that Cox has found a balance of tone between skepticism and sensitivity, his theories are that much more convincing. His own experiences with the "New Orientalism" have not diminished Cox's Christianity. Rather, he has found out not only how valuable the traditionally Judeo-Christian meditative traditions are, but also how similar they are to many Eastern practices. This is not to say that the New Orientalism's importance lies in showing all forms of worship to have universal roots. Again and again Cox stresses that devotional techniques may be almost identical (Thus Benedictine monks in Vermont sit and meditate in the same position as the Buddhists at Boulder, "Tibet-in-the-Rockies") but the underlying theology is drastically different.

His arguments are difficult to summarize, but a constant theme of the book seems to be that those people who turn to the East

do not represent a way out of our Western spiritual crises. But they do help us to understand it much better, in part because they embody it so clearly and often so attractively. In doing so they help us to understand and confront that part of ourselves which would like to abdicate history-making and let nature take its course.

Cox feels that the most insidious element of the "New Orientalism" is not the superficial chaos worsened by public outcries of brain-washing and sloganeering, but the underlying Americanization of imported Eastern faiths. Acclimation (to a certain degree) is inevitable in the spread of a religion. Few observers, however, have stressed enough that, as Cox would say, "when the gods migrate, or are transported, to a civilization where everything is to some extent a commodity, they become commodities too." The danger here lies in the potential reduction of these new faiths to products of a "profit-oriented culture" such as the psychological theories Cox discusses in the chapter entitled "The Pool of Narcissus: The Psychologizing of Meditation." Discussing the use of terms such as "investment" in people or psychic "dividends" he proceeds to suggest that

There is even evidence that the search for identity is a useful activity for dominant groups to encourage. People engaged in an incessant identity quest will not have time to ask questions about cartels and juntas.

Neverthless, while cautioning against "consumer" psychiatry and religion, Cox does not condemn a "search for identity" outright. He wishes to prevent its manipulation by the materialistic elements he sees as basic to American social structure. God, Cox declares: "liberates the oppressed by enabling them to liberate themselves...Anything else feeds the kind of millenial fantasies which have kept the poor in bondage for centuries."

Turning East is a far from "scientific" study of the field It is angry and amused, polemical and urbane, a cosmospolitan and Christian work. Yet, while Cox's personal faith gives the book coherence it could well lose him readers who are not so enviably optimistic as he appears to be about the future. There are a few passages that sound a bit too close to the "God is Great, God is Good" sermons. Cox's enthusiasm might disturb the complacent atheist. Nevertheless, there are moments when even the slickest cynics would probably think again, as when this indubitably religious man concludes:

A merely religious answer will not sacrifice. Only a profound change in the way we work and own and love will do that, and this will require Christianity to challenge deep-seated values and powerful interests. Unless that happens, the passionate quest for the human, so eloquently displayed by the East Turners, but felt by all of us, will surely fail.