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Chomsky on the French Intellectual Tradition
France has become the site of the kind of intellectual work that Chomsky most abhors. He observes: "almost no one in France has ever had any idea of what my political or academic work is about. Of course they write about it all the time, but that is the standard infantilism of French intellectual life." Although, he persists, they may boast "a few very fine linguists and other scientists, anarchist circles, and a handful of others," the French have "a highly parochial and remarkably illiterate culture." For this reason, "during the 60s and 70s, I almost never gave political talks in France. . . .the distorting effects of dogma were so extreme that it was a waste of time" (30 May 1994). Althusser, Bachelard, de Beauvoir, Camus, Levinas, Levi-Strauss, Sartre, or Serres, all highly respected in certain circles, Chomsky does not mention specifically, but his intention is to question the star status assigned to certain French theorists and the reverence bestowed upon the dogma that is generated by the schools of thought that they have established (in Language and Politics, for example, he mentions existentialism, structuralism, Lacanianism, and deconstruction [310 11]). Americans, incidentally, seem equally guilty of fomenting the type of cultishness that Chomsky decries. It is often the American academics that latch onto these trends, hire the leading lights at exorbitant salaries, and prolong the life spans of particular movements by recruiting their faithful followers. Many French (or French-style) intellectuals believe that Chomsky's work employs outdated strategies that are unable to accommodate the subtleties of political movements. Chomsky's reply to this is that the French are unwilling to see what is set out clearly before them, and should learn "how to tell the truth, to pay attention to facts, and to reach standards of minimal rationality" (31 Mar. 1995). He also charges that the French intellectual scene has refused to interact with work undertaken outside of France its elite is insular and backward. Numerous examples are proffered: Viennese positivism, studied around the world since the 1930s, is virtually unknown in France (the school's major works were only published in French translation in the 1980s); most French biologists were, in the 1970s, still pre-Darwinian; most German philosophy is still unknown in France. There is, in Chomsky's view, a parochialism and a level of suppression existing in France that is virtually unparalleled, and it extends through all domains. "When the truth about France under the Nazis began to appear in studies in the U.S., there was astonishment and turmoil in France because the facts had been almost completely suppressed and still largely are" (31 Mar. 1995). Chomsky's objections to French studies of language and interaction apply, in a more general way, to postmodernism. Many observations made by its practitioners are couched in vague terminology and then elevated to the status of "theory." Chomsky has made some devastating remarks about the kind of postmodern theory that passes for academic achievement in the present era. With reference to Bourdieu and Lyotard, he writes: Doubtless there is a power structure in every speech situation; again, that is a truism that only an intellectual could find surprising and seek to dress up in appropriate polysyllables. As honest people, our effort should be to unmask it and diminish it, as far as we can, and to do so in association with others, whom we can help and who can help us in this necessary libratory task. Will it ever end? I presume not. As for Lyotard and the post-modern age, I await some indication that there is something here beyond trivialities or self-serving nonsense. I can perceive certain grains of truth hidden in the vast structure of verbiage, but those are simple indeed. Again, maybe I'm missing something, perhaps a lot. If so, I apologize for my simple-mindedness. Maybe I'm missing a gene. I seem to be able to understand other difficult things, but virtually nothing here. Furthermore, in other difficult areas (say, quantum physics), friends and colleagues can explain to me what I want to know (as do serious "popularizations" ) at a level that I can understand, and I know how to go on if I want to understand more (and have sometimes done so). In these [postmodernist] areas, no one can explain anything to me, and I have no idea how to proceed. It could be that some entirely new form of human intelligence has arisen, beyond those known before, and those who lack the appropriate genes (evidently, me) just can't see it. Perhaps. As I said, I'm open-minded. If there is another explanation, I'd like to hear it. (31 Mar. 1995)Once one has assimilated Chomsky's objections and grasped his criteria for identifying what constitutes valid academic research, it becomes difficult to credit much of what is proposed as serious scholarship in the social sciences and the humanities. To evade cynicism to avoid losing all faith in academic work that does not fall into the category of hard science one must nurture the intellectual skill of distinguishing between what is useful and what is simply self-serving, retrograde, or dangerous.
Armed with his dry, laconic wit Chomsky devotes himself to making this
distinction. His use of such terms as "fascist," "lawless," "corrupt,"
and "fraudulent" when speaking of highly respected government or
academic figures raises eyebrows; it also elicits nervous laughter
from the audiences he goads into recognizing the absurdity of
positions or actions that we have come to consider normal, and
provokes the intense animosity of those who consider his sweeping
generalizations inappropriate or ill informed. David Barsamian's
alternative radio station in Colorado distributes tapes of
conversations with Chomsky (as well as other marginalized thinkers
such as Samir Amin, Alex Cockburn, Edward Herman, Christopher
Hitchens, and Howard Zinn), which offer the listener the opportunity
to experience the eloquence of Chomsky's speech. The vivacious
humanity of Chomsky's prose is reinforced by powerful articulation,
provocative rhetorical techniques, and a tangible enthusiasm for
intellectual engagement. He has employed these strategies to force his
readers to consider their own humanity through reference to the
creative aspects of human beings and to the environments most suited
to their development.
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