PERSPECTIVErnEast Is East^ and West Is Wussrnby Thomas FlemingrnIf a civilized man, as it is sometimes said, can hold two ideasrnin his mind at the same time, post-civilized man goes onernstep farther and sees nothing wrong with maintaining contradictor-rnopinions on any subject that comes up: We say simultaneouslyrnthat the Russians are animalistic drunkards with no aptitudernfor the free-market or self-government —fouf a quickierncourse in democratic capitalism will solve all their woes. Therncontradiction does not bother us. We are post-rational as wellrnas post-civilized.rnMost people—whether they are pre-civilized primitives, likernthe American masses, or post-civilized degenerates, like thernAmerican elite—are perfectly capable of taking a stand on thernpractical matters of everyday life. They know that somethingrneither tastes good to them or does not (if they are post-civilized,rntiiey will concede that the difference between bistecca fiorentinarnand a Chicago hot dog is just a matter of style andrnpreference). n matters outside their immediate experience,rnhowever, they display an enormous capacity for toleratingrncontradiction.rnThe bifurcation of the post-civilized mind is especially ob’iousrnin foreign affairs. Within a matter of weeks, newspapermenrncan be demanding inter’ention on behalf of the Muslims inrnChechnya, Bosnia, or Kosovo, and then without pausing tornmake a transition as artificial as a Jay Leno segue, they will condemnrnthe violent terrorism of the “ragheads” in the MiddlernEast. This is not a case of hypocrisv, which is the ability to distinguishrnbetween a general principle and its pragmatic applicationrnto one’s national and private interests. If it were, wc shouldrnbe demanding justice for the “ragheads” pumping oil in thernMiddle East, and we should be driving the Bosnian Half-Turksrnout of Europe.rnThroughout the modern era. Western attitudes toward thernIslamic world have been confused and contradictory. Oncernupon a time, when Peter the Hermit was preaching the FirstrnCrusade, we thought we knew what we wanted. We wanted tornexpel the Muslims, who worshipped a devil named Mahound,rnfrom the Holy Land they had seized by fire and sword from thernEastern Roman Empire and from the Eastern ChristianrnChurch. It was us against them, and when some Christian authoritiesrndeclared that no Christian had to keep faith with a devil-rnworshipper, the Crusaders obligingly violated oaths andrntreaties with what they hoped was impunity. Anyone who hasrnread Christian chroniclers like William of Tyre and VillehardoLunrnand compared their accounts with the Arab writersrncollected in Gabrieli’s wonderful volume, Arab Historians ofrnthe Crusades, will easily conclude that, in the good old days, thernsoldiers who took up the Cross of the Church Militant couldrnmatch, stroke for stroke and massacre for massacre, the Turks,rnArabs, and Kurds who fought for the Crescent.rnDuring the brutal Third Crusade, however, a bright spot developedrnin the form of a myth surrounding the relations betweenrntwo great leaders, the French Christian Richard of Englandrnand Saladin, the Kurdish Muslim. Both were tough men,rneach was the flower of his respective chivalry, and each—atrnleast according to the legend elaborated upon by the poets andrnlater by Walter Scott—learned to display a grudging respect forrn10/CHRONICLESrnrnrn