The Last of the Mohicans

Well, if you did, then you’d know that the Mohicans—now all but extinct, by the good graces of 18th century European colonialism—were a Native American tribe, who converted to Christianity and fought on the side of the American colonists in both the French and Indian War and the American Revolution. Not only was their role cynically ignored later by their colonial allies; they were also dispossessed of their land and forced to move westward, where their culture and population withered to obscurity. Had it not been for James Fennimore Cooper’s novel The Last of The Mohicans (the basis of the excellent Hollywood movie with the same name, starring Daniel Day Lewis); this entire people would quite simply have disappeared from the annals of history.

I personally loved the novel and the movie, and quite strongly identified with the protagonists, the last surviving descendants of the Mohicans, and their glorious—albeit tragic—last stand. I also feel that—in a twisted and sardonic way—I, and a slice of my generation have become this day and age’s Last Mohicans. We are this day and age’s ‘Lost Tribe,’ a generation of people whose lives were wasted, and whose potential of talent and promise was deliberately (and criminally) lost. How so?

Well, for starters, I belong to (and firmly identify myself with) the middle class. This, mind you, is a class that no longer exists, with the sharp dichotomy of society between haves and have-nots, ultra-rich and abjectly-poor. I do have to work for a living, but am paid better-than-average which sets me apart from laborers and tillers of the soil—economically speaking. Yet I also find my-self light-years away from being ‘rich’ enough to have a house of my own, or owning a nice car (or any car, for that matter). I am in between, and I am not particularly unhappy with this arrangement. The only minor problem is, that there no longer is an ‘in-between’ these days. You are either rich or poor, and the choice is not necessarily yours to make. I am neither, which—by simple deductive logic—would mean that I do not exist! To complement this, I also like to think of myself as a centrist, politically speaking. Here, too, is a category of people that has all but vanished into the thick air of political polarity, narrowing views, and increasingly money-dominated politics. Being no moneyed tycoon myself, I have no influence over the ‘masses,’ nor do I possess the medium of communicating with a large number of people—let alone affecting or influencing their views. I also believe that neither social-ism nor capitalism hold the answer, but that a combination of the best of both ideologies (sprinkled with some environmentally-sound governance, and a strong ethical and moral code) would be the best truly unifying voice—a voice not based on tribalism, ethnicity, creed or socio-economical status. Another fu-tile pipe dream, of course.

I also happen to be a multi-culturist. Not only do I find the notion of the ‘Clash of Civilizations’ to be personally distasteful, but also a load of narrow-minded stupid gibberish trumpeted by the triumphalist inhumane ultra-right-wing capitalism; a capitalism attempting to find its raison d’etre by creating and de

fining enemies—whether true or imagined. I also claim to have eclectic tastes: I equally enjoy the work of al-Mutanab-bi, Adonis, Unsi al-Hajj, and Zakariya Tamer; as well as Patrick Susskind, Er-nest Hemingway, and Albert Camus. I am humbled by the philosophical views of Nietzsche and Voltaire, but I am as equally impressed by Ibn Khaldun and Ibn Rushd. I love Jazz and Opera, but I also enjoy Aleppan Qudud, and Andalucian music. I live for a nice Hamburger or a Sushi, but my entire being is moved by a nice Kubbeh or Yabrak. Now, what’s wrong with that? What’s wrong with having eclectic tastes? And why is cultural diversity quickly receding, in favor of a sterile stereotypical cultural mono-type?

And what about being an a-religious, committed secularist? The current trend of Islamization of all aspects of life (especially in our region), has left no space for an individual who believes that God and religion are personal issues—not yard-sticks against which to measure one’s merit, worth, or humanity. The intensifying radicalization of religion, and the zealous venom dispensed upon us each and every day from pulpits, the media, and by bigots roaming the streets; have poisoned our existence, and stained our daily life with the blood of irreconcilable opposing views. With the current in-creasing trend towards religious fanaticism, the escalation of religiously-tinged media and communication, and the battle lines between ‘true believers’ and ‘infidels’ not only between religions—but also within each religion itself—where does a puny secularist like me find a place? Probably burning on a stake!

One must lastly not forget the fact that I also happen to be a pacifist. I believe that violence is no answer, that it serves no purpose, and that all it contributes to is begetting even worse violence. That, I am sad to say, pits me against all that is happening around me: vehement and inconsolable views, murderous politics, violent rhetoric on all fronts, vituperative discourse on all issues and—most disturbingly—a disfigured moral com-pass allowing for this violence to flourish and metamorphose from words and ideas into car bombs and bullets. Every-one I know has started to fear more for their physical safety; my concern, how-ever, is for our psychological and moral survival and well-being.

So, as you can see, I increasingly find that I belong nowhere, that I can relate to (or am represented by) no one, and that I am slowly becoming irrelevant to whatever is happening around me, to the point of complete and utter marginalization. This is why, I can truly identify with the feeling of a species on the verge of extinction—just like the dinosaurs before the Ice Age. Or, even more poignantly, just like the Mohicans after the American Revolution.

The pivotal question, however, is: will I and my fellow present-day middle-class, centrist, multi-culturist, secularist, pacifist friends find someone to take enough interest to write a novel documenting our lives, our agonies, our plight?? Would we find someone with enough interest to make a movie (a regular, non-blockbuster, non-Hollywood movie) about our own ‘glorious last stand?’ Now that is a question with a fairly obvious answer...