A More Peaceful Time

It seems like a dream, when I recall a college course I took where Jews and Muslims peacefully discussed the turbulent history of the Middle East. And how we discussed that sad story in a cordial, and even sympathetic, manner.

The contrast between that day and 2023 – when people cannot even agree that tiny infants should not suffer for the sins of their parents – is mind-bending.

We assume that all people desire peace. Would that it were so. In his essay “First and Second Things,” C.S. Lewis offers a timely insight.

As far as peace (which is one ingredient in our idea of civilization) is concerned, I think many would now agree that a foreign policy dominated by desire for peace is one of the many roads that lead to war.

I was an undergrad at the University of Washington in the mid-1970s, when I saw a graduate level course with a fascinating title: “Wars that have Shaped the History of the Middle East.” My high school friend and I “begged” the professor to allow us into the class. He cautioned us that he would have the same requirements for us as he did for everyone else; there would be no mercy extended if we failed to meet the syllabus’ demands.

“No problem,” we said . . . although, being young procrastinators, at the end of the quarter we foolishly required a couple of all-nighters to complete our comprehensive term papers.

We, both Christians, were the only undergraduates in the small class. Our professor was Jewish, as were two of the students. One of these, was Israeli. He was, in fact, a veteran of the recent Yom Kippur War, during which he had served as the commander of a tank. I don’t recall which front on which he fought, but when you look at a map of Israel, it’s clear that every part of that small nation is a potential combat zone.

The remaining members of the class consisted of three Muslim students. One was American and a second was Iranian (back when the Shah was still in power). The third Islamic member of the class taught at a Seattle community college. He was Palestinian. And not merely Palestinian – his family was displaced during the 1948 Arab-Israeli War, which is referred to by the Israelis as the War of Independence.

You can imagine that with a group like that, opinions were deeply entrenched. Yet, although the preexisting opinions were indeed fixed, the individuals were not obstinate. Conversations were civil. Disagreements were conducted with reason rather than emotion. And, most surprisingly of all, we were able to socialize together at the end of the course.

It was a different world, apparently. It’s challenging to conceive of partisans today being capable of treating others with such respect. The last half century has marked a steep decline in the humanity of humanity.

Anti-Semitism is a Curse

It is strange to ponder how we’ve come to define antisemitism, confining it to anti-Jewish sentiment. After all, the word Semite refers to all people who speak a Semitic language, including Arabs.

Etymologically, Semite “comes via Latin from Greek Sēm ‘Shem,’ son of Noah in the Bible, from whom these people were traditionally supposed to be descended.”

If you are interested in an excellent article titled “C.S. Lewis’s Anti-Anti-Semitism in The Great Divorce,” simply follow the link embedded here.

Israel’s Wars

There has been no shortage of blood shed on the land the Romans called Judea and Arabia Petraea. And the history of the past seventy-five years have been violent indeed. For a description of all of the wars and military operations involving Israel, see this website.

We students each had to select one of the Middle Eastern regional wars to research in depth. We also had to make a detailed presentation and lead the discussion based on general readings completed by everyone.

As soon as I saw that requirement in the syllabus, my mind was mired in confusion over which of Israel’s wars would be the least controversial. Fortunately, as I read further I discovered that the purview of the course did not begin with the end of the Palestine Mandate, which was administered by Britain. Due to the influence of the Ottoman Empire, which had overshadowed the region until the end of the First World War, the professor elected to begin the course with the relatively nonconfrontational consideration of the Crimean War. I was the first student to raise my hand and voice my preference.

During the Palestine Mandate, C.S. Lewis had a number of former students serving in the Levant. In a 1940 letter to his brother Warnie, he describes a pleasant visit from one of these who went on to serve in a political capacity throughout the region for several more decades. This statesman refers to a fellow student who would go on to teach at East Anglia University.

I had a visit one night last week from Pirie-Gordon back from leave from Palestine, where (and in Egypt and Turkey) he says everything is “as good as gold.” The last riot was quelled by the cavalry regiment in which Rivière serves . . . In fact as P.G. said “I raised the riot and Rivière quelled it.”

I wonder how the members of the class would relate to one another if we were reunited for a discussion of what has transpired since 1975. With members of the American government at each other’s throats on our nation’s response to Hamas’ war, I doubt our discussions would be as respectful as they were back in the twentieth century. Still, conversations – even painful ones – need to happen if people are ever to get along with one another. That’s true not only for nations, but also for neighbors, and families.

I recommend two things to move us in the right direction. Honest communication, where we do a lot of listening. And prayer. The fact we do so poorly with the first, makes the second all that more essential.

C.S. Lewis & Roald Dahl

Do C.S. Lewis (1898-1963) and Roald Dahl (1916-1990) have anything in common, besides authoring books enjoyed by children?

Looking back, I must have been deprived of opportunities to read common children’s books. I recall my mom having many of Dr. Seuss’ classics, but don’t remember more advanced works such as those of Beatrix Potter or E.B. White.

I suppose that is why Roald Dahl’s name means little to me. By the time I was aware of his popular works, I was too old to appreciate them. Added to that was my intense dislike for the cinematic presentation of his Chocolate Factory, which has permanently (and probably unfairly) soured my impression of the poor man.

In Matilda, published in 1988, Dahl offers a rather curious homage to the Inklings. The young protagonist offers to her teacher the following observations.

“I like The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe,” Matilda said. “I think Mr. C.S. Lewis is a very good writer. But he has one failing. There are no funny bits in his books.”

“You are right there,” Miss Honey said.

“There aren’t many funny bits in Mr. Tolkien either,” Matilda said.

If you are intrigued by this brief interchange, you would probably enjoy reading “Disagreeing with Matilda on Lewis and Tolkien.”

Curiously, a number of people have offered their evaluations of Lewis and Dahl, vis-à-vis one another. Author Grudge Match: Roald Dahl vs. C.S. Lewis invited diverse contributions to the debate eight years ago on LibraryThing.

A Christian blogger offers a faith-based appraisal on an entertaining website called “Like but better.” It’s entitled “How C.S Lewis is like Roald Dahl, but better (and Aslan is like Willy Wonka, but better).”

C.S Lewis is serious about what Dahl jokes about; even as both want us to pursue a childlike wonder and joy. For Lewis these enchanted stories and our sense of wonder are small stories reflecting on the big story — the ‘myth that became history’ — the death and resurrection of Jesus.

A BBC Culture article is quite critical of Dahl, despite his popularity. The introduction to “The Dark Side of Roald Dahl” aptly describes the essay.

Roald Dahl was an unpleasant man who wrote macabre books – and yet children around the world adore them. Perhaps this shouldn’t surprise us, writes Hephzibah Anderson.

An article by a Jewish journalist refers to both of the authors discussed here. It describes his bitter introduction to the major flaws of an author whose work he enjoyed as a child. “Why I Hope My Kids Never Read Roald Dahl” is, for me, most valuable for the way in which the journalist regards the faith which underlies the tales of Narnia.

As a nerdy Jewish kid in Indiana and Tennessee in the late 1970s and 1980s, I had far better relationships with books than I did with other kids. If I liked a book, I read it again, and again and again.

And so it was with Roald Dahls “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.” Dahl’s protagonists Charlie and later James (of the “Giant Peach”) both provided early models for how to find a better way through a hostile world where I always felt like an outsider.

Given that personal history, the announcement that Netflix has acquired Dahl’s entire catalog and plans a robust lineup of multimedia adaptations ought to feel like good news. . . .

Seeing his work still celebrated fills me with sadness, leaving me caught between attachment to something that mattered to me as a boy and commitment to the principles that, I hope, make me the man I am today.

Because I know that Roald Dahl hated Jewish people like me.

There are cases where it’s complicated to ascribe modern values to figures from the past and as a reader, my feelings, my emotions, are just not going to be consistent. I don’t share C.S. Lewis’ religious views . . . J.R.R. Tolkien’s “Lord of the Rings” trilogy is, I’m sad to say, bound up in long histories of racism.But my childhood copies of their books still occupy my shelves, some missing covers and pages, and I bought new copies for my kids and tried – with mixed success – to share my love of those stories with them. It’s hardly new for readers of one generation to struggle with the views of authors from another.But Dahl is different. He passed away in 1990, only 31 years ago. And we know he was an anti-Semite because he said so.

While I would challenge Perry’s modest critiques of the Inklings, I am delighted he is able to look beyond his adult disappointment with their imperfections to commend them to his own children. As for Dahl . . . this article reinforces my lack of regret in being unfamiliar with his work.

Enough, now, of their differences. I promised readers a surprising similarity between the two British authors.

And What Is Their Unusual Commonality?

In 1951, C.S. Lewis was approached by Prime Minister Churchill’s office to accept an honor occasionally bestowed upon renowned literary figures. He was invited to become a Commander of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire. Lewis declined, because he felt the political implications might overshadow the nonpartisan spirit of his writings. He was, however, honored to have been offered the honour.

This decision brings us to the peculiar similarity between the two writers. It turns out that Roald Dahl also passed up the invitation to join this chivalric order.

And the two were not alone. In 2012 a list of deceased individuals who had declined related honors between 1951 and 1999 was published.

Literary names were prominent amongst those to have said no to CBEs, OBEs and knighthoods in the annual New Year or Birthday Honours list, with Dahl, Lewis, and Huxley . . . joined by fellow naysayers Eleanor Farjeon, the children’s author, the poets Philip Larkin and Robert Graves, who said no to both a CBE and a CH (Order of the Companions honour), literary critic F.R. Leavis, Booker [Prize] winner Stanley Middleton and the authors J.B. Priestley and Evelyn Waugh.

An aspiring literary historian might do well to research whether and why successful writers might be more inclined to dismiss such an honor than other British citizens. I wonder if that inclination would carry over to other nationalities or cultures.

Ultimately, I assume most writers care less about receiving honors, than having their work read. And, perchance, having their literary efforts improve the lives of one or two others along the way. [This statement inspired vigorous debate when I shared this draft with members of my critique group.]

That desire – to enrich lives – is what motivates me. I believe it is also what inspired C.S. Lewis. And I know we are not alone.