12 Million Declassified CIA Documents Now Free Online: Secret Tunnels, UFOs, Psychic Experiments & More

Image by Duff­man, via Wiki­me­dia Com­mons

“The Unit­ed States Gov­ern­ment has not yet made any offi­cial reply to the Sovi­et and East Ger­man alle­ga­tions and protests con­cern­ing the 300-yard tun­nel that Amer­i­can intel­li­gence oper­a­tives are said to have built under­neath the bor­der between West and East Berlin for espi­onage pur­pos­es,” says a Wash­ing­ton Post arti­cle from 1956 head­lined “The Tun­nel of Love.” The Com­mu­nists’ excite­ment about their dis­cov­ery even had them con­duct­ing “spe­cial pro­pa­gan­da tours through the tun­nel and to have exhib­it­ed the wire­tap­ping and oth­er record­ing appa­ra­tus that the Amer­i­cans are sup­posed to have installed inside it.”

This amus­ing chap­ter of Cold War his­to­ry might have seemed, to Amer­i­ca at the time, like the kind of foiled effort — though one of an inge­nu­ity admired on both sides of the Iron Cur­tain — best buried at the back of the espi­onage archives. But now, thanks to an exec­u­tive order requir­ing the Cen­tral Intel­li­gence Agency to release “nonex­empt his­tor­i­cal­ly valu­able records 25 years or old­er” as well as the dogged efforts of jour­nal­ist Michael Best, you can read over 12 mil­lion pages of pre­vi­ous­ly clas­si­fied doc­u­ments at CREST, the CIA Records Search Tool. In addi­tion to the files on the “Berlin Tun­nel” oper­a­tion, it offers copi­ous mate­r­i­al on much else, such as vin­tage espi­onage tech­niques like writ­ing with invis­i­ble ink and unde­tectably open­ing sealed let­ters and CIA research into spir­i­tu­al­ist heal­ingtelepa­thy, and oth­er psy­chic pow­ers.

For quite some time before now, you tech­ni­cal­ly could have looked up all of this infor­ma­tion your­self, pro­vid­ed you felt like going to the Nation­al Archives in Col­lege Park, Mary­land, and pulling it up on one of the four com­put­ers made avail­able to do so — but only between the hours of 9 a.m. and 4:30 p.m. The fact that you can now do it from the com­fort of your brows­er owes in large part to the efforts of Best, who raised $15,000 on Kick­starter to go man­u­al­ly print out all (or at least some) of those twelve mil­lion pages and upload them to the inter­net, there­by prod­ding the CIA to save the ink-and-paper mon­ey and just do it them­selves.

Some of the pro­jec­t’s back­ers, no doubt, want­ed specif­i­cal­ly to see what the CIA’s archives have to say about space aliens, a stock of infor­ma­tion you may recall that we fea­tured here just last year. “The pub­li­ca­tion of the files rep­re­sents a poten­tial moth­er­lode of back­ground mate­r­i­al for researchers, jour­nal­ists and curi­ous hob­by­ists,” write the New York Times’ Daniel Vic­tor and Erin McCann, not long before admit­ting that “most of the files are pret­ty bor­ing,” a result of “reg­u­lar bureau­crat­ic col­la­tion.” But then, that kind of method­i­cal gath­er­ing and orga­niz­ing of infor­ma­tion has long con­sti­tut­ed most of the work of nation­al intel­li­gence: even the short-lived “Tun­nel of Love” gath­ered enough data to keep its proces­sors busy for years after it became a Sovi­et tourist spot.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

FBI’s “Vault” Web Site Reveals Declas­si­fied Files on Hem­ing­way, Ein­stein, Mar­i­lyn & Oth­er Icons

The CIA Puts Hun­dreds of Declas­si­fied Doc­u­ments About UFO Sight­ings Online, Plus 10 Tips for Inves­ti­gat­ing Fly­ing Saucers

His­to­ry Declas­si­fied: New Archive Reveals Once-Secret Doc­u­ments from World Gov­ern­ments

Declas­si­fied CIA Doc­u­ment Reveals That Ben Franklin (and His Big Ego) Put U.S. Nation­al Secu­ri­ty at Risk

75 Years of CIA Maps Now Declas­si­fied & Made Avail­able Online

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer, the video series The City in Cin­e­ma, the crowd­fund­ed jour­nal­ism project Where Is the City of the Future?, and the Los Ange­les Review of Books’ Korea Blog. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

Learn What Old Norse Sounded Like, with UC Berkeley’s “Cowboy Professor, Dr. Jackson Crawford

If you want to study anoth­er lan­guage, by all means feel free to study such wide­ly spo­ken ones as Eng­lish, Span­ish, and Chi­nese. But obscu­ri­ty, as we all learn at one point or anoth­er grow­ing up, also has an appeal, though we often need some­one cool to give us a hint as to which obscu­ri­ties to pur­sue. One “cow­boy pro­fes­sor” has, since the videos he posts to Youtube have begun to gain pop­u­lar­i­ty, emerged as the cool guy who may well turn a gen­er­a­tion of schol­ars-to-be on to the study of Old Norse. Though he holds an aca­d­e­m­ic posi­tion at the Uni­ver­si­ty of Cal­i­for­nia, Berke­ley, “Wyoming’s Dr. Jack­son Craw­ford,” as he refers to him­self, seems to spend at least part of his time in what he describes as “the Wilder­ness of the Amer­i­can West.”

He also shoots his videos out there, an appro­pri­ate­ly sub­lime back­drop for the dis­cus­sion of the mechan­ics of the Old Norse lan­guage, orig­i­nal­ly spo­ken by the Scan­di­na­vians of the 9th through the 13h cen­turies, and the myth and poet­ry com­posed in it.

Here we have three of Craw­ford’s videos meant to address ques­tions of gen­er­al curios­i­ty about Old Norse: what the lan­guage sound­ed like, and, in two parts, how best to pro­nounce the names of the var­i­ous gods, places, and oth­er ele­ments of its mythol­o­gy, from Óðinn (whom you might have seen referred to as Odin) to Val­hǫll (Val­hal­la) to Ásgarðr (Asgard).

Jack­son also gives read­ings from the 13th-cen­tu­ry Poet­ic Edda, arguably the most influ­en­tial piece of Scan­di­na­vian lit­er­a­ture ever writ­ten, and one which he recent­ly trans­lat­ed into mod­ern Eng­lish. Per­haps a sam­ple:

Þagalt ok hugalt
skyli þjóðans barn,
ok vígd­jarft vera.
Glaðr ok reifr
skyli gum­na hverr,
unz sinn bíðr bana.

A noble man should
be silent, thought­ful,
and bold in bat­tle.
But every man should also
be cheer­ful and hap­py,
till the inevitable day of death.

In addi­tion to that and oth­er impres­sive CV items, he also came up with the runes and Old Norse dia­logue for the hit Dis­ney movie Frozen — just in case you had any con­cerns as to the lan­guage’s pro­fes­sion­al prac­ti­cal­i­ty. Explore his Youtube chan­nel here.

via Digg

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Hear Homer’s Ili­ad Read in the Orig­i­nal Ancient Greek

What Ancient Latin Sound­ed Like, And How We Know It

What Shake­speare Sound­ed Like to Shake­speare: Recon­struct­ing the Bard’s Orig­i­nal Pro­nun­ci­a­tion

Hear The Epic of Gil­gamesh Read in the Orig­i­nal Akka­di­an, the Lan­guage of Mesopotamia

Hear Beowulf Read In the Orig­i­nal Old Eng­lish: How Many Words Do You Rec­og­nize?

Learn Latin, Old Eng­lish, San­skrit, Clas­si­cal Greek & Oth­er Ancient Lan­guages in 10 Lessons

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer, the video series The City in Cin­e­ma, the crowd­fund­ed jour­nal­ism project Where Is the City of the Future?, and the Los Ange­les Review of Books’ Korea Blog. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

The Women’s Suffrage March of 1913: The Parade That Overshadowed Another Presidential Inauguration a Century Ago

On Fri­day, a per­son who has insult­ed, demeaned, and threat­ened tens of mil­lions of the country’s cit­i­zens will take the oath of office for the pres­i­den­cy of the Unit­ed States. That’s an extra­or­di­nary thing, and the reac­tion will also be extraordinary—a Women’s March the fol­low­ing day in Wash­ing­ton, DC expect­ed to draw hun­dreds of thou­sands of every gen­der, race, creed, and ori­en­ta­tion. Sis­ter march­es and protests will take place in every major city on the East and West Coast and every­where in-between, as well as inter­na­tion­al­ly in cities like Lon­don, Syd­ney, Buenos Aires, Cal­gary, Barcelona, Dar es Salaam… the list goes on and on and on.

Why Women’s March­es if these events are all-inclu­sive? In addi­tion to respond­ing to the pub­lic dis­plays of con­tempt for women we’ve wit­nessed over and over in the past year, the events intend to reaf­firm the rights of all peo­ple. The orga­niz­ers suc­cinct­ly state that “women’s rights are human rights. We stand togeth­er, rec­og­niz­ing that defend­ing the most mar­gin­al­ized among us is defend­ing all of us.”

A Rawl­sian pro­gres­sive notion, and also a “Kingian” one, a descrip­tion the march applies to its non­vi­o­lent prin­ci­ples. What they don’t say is that there is also sig­nif­i­cant his­tor­i­cal prece­dent for the action. Over 100 years ago, anoth­er women’s march coin­cid­ed with a pres­i­den­tial swear­ing-in, this time of Woodrow Wil­son in March of 1913.

March­ing for the cause of suf­frage, women from around the coun­try and the world arrived in DC on March 3rd, the day before Wilson’s inau­gu­ra­tion. Many of those marchers had hiked 234 miles from New York in 17 days, bear­ing a let­ter to the Pres­i­dent-elect, writes Mash­able, “demand­ing that he make suf­frage a pri­or­i­ty of his admin­is­tra­tion and warn­ing that the women of the nation would be watch­ing ‘with an intense inter­est such as has nev­er before been focused upon the admin­is­tra­tion of any of your pre­de­ces­sors.’” Orga­nized by Alice Paul and Lucy Burns of the Nation­al Amer­i­can Woman Suf­frage Asso­ci­a­tion, the march promised, in their words, “the most con­spic­u­ous and impor­tant demon­stra­tion that has ever been attempt­ed by suf­frag­ists in this coun­try.”

The parade was filled with pageantry. “Clad in a white cape astride a white horse,” writes the Library of Con­gress, “lawyer Inez Mil­hol­land led the great woman suf­frage parade down Penn­syl­va­nia Avenue in the nation’s cap­i­tal. Behind her stretched a long line with nine bands, four mount­ed brigades, three her­alds, about twen­ty-four floats, and more than 5,000 marchers.”

As you can see in the images here from the LoC—including the draw­ing of the parade route above by Lit­tle Nemo car­toon­ist Win­sor McK­ay—the parade drew a huge glob­al coali­tion. It also drew ridicule, harass­ment, and vio­lence from groups in DC for the fol­low­ing day’s fes­tiv­i­ties. As the LoC writes:

[A]ll went well for the first few blocks. Soon, how­ev­er, the crowds, most­ly men in town for the fol­low­ing day’s inau­gu­ra­tion of Woodrow Wil­son, surged into the street mak­ing it almost impos­si­ble for the marchers to pass. Occa­sion­al­ly only a sin­gle file could move for­ward. Women were jeered, tripped, grabbed, shoved, and many heard “inde­cent epi­thets” and “barn­yard con­ver­sa­tion.” Instead of pro­tect­ing the parade, the police “seemed to enjoy all the rib­ald jokes and laugh­ter and in part par­tic­i­pat­ed in them.” One police­man explained that they should stay at home where they belonged.

Many marchers were injured; “two ambu­lances ‘came and went con­stant­ly for six hours, always imped­ed and at times actu­al­ly opposed, so that doc­tor and dri­ver lit­er­al­ly had to fight their way to give suc­cor.’” The event includ­ed sev­er­al promi­nent fig­ures, includ­ing Helen Keller, “who was unnerved by the expe­ri­ence.” Also present was Jean­nette Rankin, who, writes Mash­able, “would become the first woman elect­ed to the House of Rep­re­sen­ta­tives four years lat­er.” Nel­ly Bly marched, as did jour­nal­ist and anti-lynch­ing activist Ida B. Wells, “who marched with the Illi­nois del­e­ga­tion despite the com­plaints of some seg­re­ga­tion­ist marchers.”

In fact, though the selec­tive images sug­gest oth­er­wise, the march was more inclu­sive than the suf­frag­ist move­ment is gen­er­al­ly giv­en cred­it for. Over the objec­tions of most­ly South­ern del­e­gates, many black women joined the ranks. After “telegrams and protests poured in” protest­ing seg­re­ga­tion, mem­bers of the Nation­al Asso­ci­a­tion of Col­ored Women “marched accord­ing to their State and occu­pa­tion with­out let or hin­drance,” not­ed the NAACP jour­nal Cri­sis. And yet, when the wom­en’s vote was final­ly achieved in 1920, that gen­er­al cat­e­go­ry still did not include black women. The misog­y­ny on dis­play that day was vicious, but still per­haps not as endem­ic as the country’s racism, which exist­ed in large degree with­in suf­frag­ist groups as well.

Once the press broad­cast news of the marchers’ mis­treat­ment, there was a mas­sive pub­lic out­cry that helped rein­vig­o­rate the suf­frage move­ment. Sev­er­al oth­er artists than McK­ay found inspi­ra­tion in the march; Cleve­land Plain Deal­er car­toon­ist James Don­a­hey, for exam­ple, “sub­sti­tut­ed women for men in a car­toon based on the famous paint­ing ‘Wash­ing­ton Cross­ing the Delaware,’” writes the Library of Con­gress. Anoth­er car­toon­ist, George Fol­som, doc­u­ment­ed the stages of the hike from New York, with cap­tions addressed to male read­ers. The strip above says, “they are mak­ing his­to­ry mates—be sure you save it for your descen­dants.” Anoth­er strip reads “Brave women all, none braver mates. Put this away and look at it when they win.”

At the Library of Congress’s Amer­i­can Women site, you’ll find a wealth of resources for research­ing the his­to­ry and impact of the 1913 Suf­frage Parade. To find out more about the hun­dreds of con­tem­po­rary Women’s Marches—open to peo­ple of every “race, eth­nic­i­ty, reli­gion, immi­gra­tion sta­tus, sex­u­al iden­ti­ty, gen­der expres­sion, eco­nom­ic sta­tus, age or dis­abil­i­ty”—see the web­site here or read this Rolling Stone inter­view with orga­niz­er Lin­da Sar­sour.


Relat­ed Con­tent:

Odd Vin­tage Post­cards Doc­u­ment the Pro­pa­gan­da Against Women’s Rights 100 Years Ago

Down­load Images From Rad Amer­i­can Women A‑Z: A New Pic­ture Book on the His­to­ry of Fem­i­nism

The First Fem­i­nist Film, Ger­maine Dulac’s The Smil­ing Madame Beudet (1922)

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Watch Priceless 17-Century Stradivarius and Amati Violins Get Taken for a Test Drive by Professional Violinists

Mate­ri­als like car­bon fiber and Lucite have been mak­ing their way into clas­si­cal stringed instru­ment design for many years, and we’ve recent­ly seen the 3‑D print­ed elec­tric vio­lin come into being. It’s an impres­sive-sound­ing instru­ment, one must admit. But trained clas­si­cal vio­lin­ists, luthiers, music his­to­ri­ans, and col­lec­tors all agree: the vio­lin has nev­er real­ly been improved upon since around the turn of the 18th cen­tu­ry, when two its finest makers—the Amati and Stradi­vari families—were at their peak. A few stud­ies have tried to poke holes in the argu­ment that such vio­lins are supe­ri­or in sound to mod­ern makes. There are many rea­sons to view these claims with skep­ti­cism.

By the time the most expert Ital­ian luthiers began mak­ing vio­lins, the instru­ment had already more or less assumed its final shape, after the long evo­lu­tion of its f‑holes into the per­fect son­ic con­duit. How­ev­er, Amati and Stradi­vari not only refined the violin’s curves, edges, and neck design, they also intro­duced new chem­i­cal process­es meant to pro­tect the wood from worms and insects.

One bio­chem­istry pro­fes­sor dis­cov­ered that these chem­i­cals “had the unin­tend­ed result of pro­duc­ing the unique sounds that have been almost impos­si­ble to dupli­cate in the past 400 years.”

Know­ing they had hit upon a win­ning for­mu­la, the top mak­ers passed their tech­niques down for sev­er­al gen­er­a­tions, mak­ing hun­dreds of vio­lins and oth­er instru­ments. A great many of these instru­ments sur­vive, though a mar­ket for fakes thrives along­side them. The instru­ments you see in the videos here are the real thing, four of the world’s old­est and most price­less vio­lins, all of them resid­ing at The Met­ro­pol­i­tan Muse­um of Art. These date from the late 1600s to ear­ly 1700s, and were all made in Cre­mona, the North­ern Ital­ian home of the great mas­ters. At the top of the post, you can see Sean Avram Car­pen­ter play Bach’s Sonata No. 1 in G minor on a 1669 vio­lin made by Nicolò Amati.

The next three videos are of vio­lins made by Anto­nio Stradi­vari, per­haps once an appren­tice of Amati. Each instru­ment has its own nick­name: “The Gould” dates from 1693 and is, writes the Met, “the only [Stradi­vari] in exis­tence that has been restored to its orig­i­nal Baroque form.” We can see Car­pen­ter play Bach’s Sonata in C major on this instru­ment fur­ther up. Both “The Gould” and the Amati vio­lin were made before mod­i­fi­ca­tions to the angle of the neck cre­at­ed “a loud­er, more bril­liant tone.” Above you can hear “The Francesca,” from 1694. Car­pen­ter plays from “Liebesleid” by Fritz Kreisler with the pianist Gabriela Mar­tinez. See if you can tell the dif­fer­ence in tone between this instru­ment and the first two, less mod­ern designs.

The last vio­lin fea­tured here, “The Anto­nius,” made by Stradi­vari in 1717, gets a demon­stra­tion in front of a live audi­ence by Eric Gross­man, who plays the cha­conne from Bach’s Par­ti­ta No. 2 in D minor. This instru­ment comes from what is called Stradivari’s “Gold­en Peri­od,” the years between 1700 and 1720. Some of the most high­ly val­ued of Stradi­varii in pri­vate hands date from around this time. And some of these instru­ments have his­to­ries that may jus­ti­fy their stag­ger­ing price tags. The Moli­tor Stradi­var­ius, for exam­ple, was sup­pos­ed­ly owned by Napoleon. But no mat­ter the pre­vi­ous own­er or num­ber of mil­lions paid, every vio­lin cre­at­ed by one of these mak­ers car­ries with it tremen­dous pres­tige. Is it deserved? Hear­ing them might make you a believ­er. Joseph Nagy­vary, the Texas A&M pro­fes­sor emer­i­tus who is dis­cov­er­ing their secrets, tells us, “the great vio­lin mas­ters were mak­ing vio­lins with more human­like voic­es than any oth­ers of the time.” Or any since, most experts would agree.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

What Does a $45 Mil­lion Vio­la Sound Like? Vio­list David Aaron Car­pen­ter Gives You a Pre­view

What Makes the Stradi­var­ius Spe­cial? It Was Designed to Sound Like a Female Sopra­no Voice, With Notes Sound­ing Like Vow­els, Says Researcher

The Art and Sci­ence of Vio­lin Mak­ing

Why Vio­lins Have F‑Holes: The Sci­ence & His­to­ry of a Remark­able Renais­sance Design

Behold the “3Dvarius,” the World’s First 3‑D Print­ed Vio­lin

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

How the World’s Oldest Computer Worked: Reconstructing the 2,200-Year-Old Antikythera Mechanism

In 1900, Greek sponge divers dis­cov­ered a ship­wreck off the Greek island of Antikythera. The arti­facts they came back up with includ­ed mon­ey, stat­ues, pot­tery, and var­i­ous oth­er works of art and craft, as well as a curi­ous lump of bronze and wood that turned out to be by far the most impor­tant item onboard. When an archae­ol­o­gist named Vale­rios Stais took a look at it two years lat­er, he noticed that the lump had a gear in it. Almost a half-cen­tu­ry lat­er, the sci­ence his­to­ri­an Derek J. de Sol­la Price thought this appar­ent­ly mechan­i­cal object might mer­it fur­ther exam­i­na­tion, and almost a quar­ter-cen­tu­ry after that, he and the nuclear physi­cist Char­alam­bos Karaka­los pub­lished their discovery–made by using X‑ray and gam­ma-ray images of the interior–that those divers had found a kind of ancient com­put­er.

“Under­stand­ing how the pieces fit togeth­er con­firmed that the Antikythera mech­a­nism was capa­ble of pre­dict­ing the posi­tions of the plan­ets with which the Greeks were famil­iar — Mer­cury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter and Sat­urn — as well as the sun and moon, and eclipses,” writes Big Think’s Rob­by Berman. “It even has a black and white stone that turns to show the phas­es of the moon.”

Deter­min­ing how it real­ly worked has required the build­ing of var­i­ous dif­fer­ent mod­els of var­i­ous dif­fer­ent kinds, one of which you can see assem­bled, oper­at­ed, and dis­as­sem­bled before your very eyes in the CGI ren­der­ing at the top of the post. Its design comes from the work of his­to­ri­an of mech­a­nism Michael T. Wright, who also put togeth­er the phys­i­cal recre­ation of the Antikythera mech­a­nism you can see him explain just above.

Image via Wiki­me­dia Com­mons

By its very nature, an arti­fact as fas­ci­nat­ing and as incom­plete as this draws all sorts of the­o­ries about the specifics of its design, pur­pose, and even its age. (It dates back to some­where between 205 and 100 BC.) In 2012, Tony Freeth and Alexan­der Jones pub­lished their own mod­el, dif­fer­ent from Wright’s, of this “machine designed to pre­dict celes­tial phe­nom­e­na accord­ing to the sophis­ti­cat­ed astro­nom­i­cal the­o­ries cur­rent in its day, the sole wit­ness to a lost his­to­ry of bril­liant engi­neer­ing, a con­cep­tion of pure genius, one of the great won­ders of the ancient world,” — but one which “didn’t real­ly work very well.” Some of the prob­lems has to do with the lim­i­ta­tions of ancient Greek astro­nom­i­cal the­o­ry, and some with the unre­li­a­bil­i­ty of its lay­ers of hand­made gears.

More recent research, adds Berman, has dis­cov­ered that “the device was built by more than one per­son on the island of Rhodes, and that it prob­a­bly wasn’t the only one of its kind,” indi­cat­ing that the ancient Greeks, despite the appar­ent defi­cien­cies of the Antikythera mech­a­nism itself, “were appar­ent­ly even fur­ther ahead in their astro­nom­i­cal under­stand­ing and mechan­i­cal know-how than we’d imag­ined.” Now watch the video just above, in which the Apple engi­neer makes his own Antikythera mech­a­nism with an entire­ly more mod­ern set of com­po­nents, and just imag­ine what the ancient Greeks could have accom­plished had they devel­oped Lego.

via Big Think

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Intro­duc­tion to Ancient Greek His­to­ry: A Free Online Course from Yale

How the Ancient Greeks Shaped Mod­ern Math­e­mat­ics: A Short, Ani­mat­ed Intro­duc­tion

How Ancient Greek Stat­ues Real­ly Looked: Research Reveals their Bold, Bright Col­ors and Pat­terns

Mod­ern Artists Show How the Ancient Greeks & Romans Made Coins, Vas­es & Arti­sanal Glass

Dis­cov­er the “Brazen Bull,” the Ancient Greek Tor­ture Machine That Dou­bled as a Musi­cal Instru­ment

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer, the video series The City in Cin­e­ma, the crowd­fund­ed jour­nal­ism project Where Is the City of the Future?, and the Los Ange­les Review of Books’ Korea Blog. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

Albert Einstein Explains How Slavery Has Crippled Everyone’s Ability to Think Clearly About Racism

Image by Fer­di­nand Schmutzer, via Wiki­me­dia Com­mons

“Should we allow celebri­ties to dis­cuss pol­i­tics?” goes one vari­a­tion on an ever­green head­line and sup­pos­ed­ly legit­i­mate pub­lic debate. No amount of pub­lic dis­ap­proval could have stopped some of the most out­spo­ken pub­lic fig­ures, and we’d be the worse off for it in many cas­es. Muham­mad Ali, John Lennon, Nina Simone, George Car­lin, Roger Waters, Mar­garet Cho, and, yes, Meryl Streep—millions of peo­ple have been very grate­ful (and many not) for these artists’ polit­i­cal com­men­tary. When it comes to sci­en­tists, how­ev­er, we tend to see more base­less accu­sa­tions of polit­i­cal speech than over­whelm­ing evi­dence of it.

But there have been those few sci­en­tists and philoso­phers who were also celebri­ties, and who made their polit­i­cal views well-known with­out reser­va­tion. Bertrand Rus­sell was such a per­son, as was Albert Ein­stein, who took up the caus­es of world peace and of racial jus­tice in the post-war years. As we’ve pre­vi­ous­ly not­ed, Einstein’s com­mit­ments were both phil­an­thropic and activist, and he formed close friend­ships with Paul Robe­son, W.E.B. Du Bois, Mar­i­an Ander­son, and oth­er promi­nent black lead­ers.

Ein­stein also co-chaired an anti-lynch­ing cam­paign and issued a scathing con­dem­na­tion of racism dur­ing a speech he gave in 1946 at the alma mater of Langston Hugh­es and Thur­good Mar­shall in which he called racism “a dis­ease of white peo­ple.” That same year, notes On Being’s exec­u­tive edi­tor Trent Gilliss, Ein­stein “penned one of his most artic­u­late and elo­quent essays advo­cat­ing for the civ­il rights of black peo­ple in Amer­i­ca.” Titled “The Negro Ques­tion” and pub­lished in the Jan­u­ary 1946 edi­tion of Pageant mag­a­zine, the essay, writes Gilliss, “was intend­ed to address a pri­mar­i­ly white read­er­ship.”

Ein­stein begins by answer­ing the inevitable objec­tion, “What right has he to speak about things which con­cern us alone, and which no new­com­er should touch?” To this, the famed physi­cist answers, “I do not think such a stand­point is jus­ti­fied.” Ein­stein believed he had a unique per­spec­tive: “One who has grown up in an envi­ron­ment takes much for grant­ed. On the oth­er hand, one who has come to this coun­try as a mature per­son may have a keen eye for every­thing pecu­liar and char­ac­ter­is­tic.” Speak­ing freely about his obser­va­tions, Ein­stein felt “he may per­haps prove him­self use­ful.”

Then, after prais­ing the country’s “demo­c­ra­t­ic trait” and its cit­i­zens’ “healthy self-con­fi­dence and nat­ur­al respect for the dig­ni­ty of one’s fel­low-man,” he plain­ly observes that this “sense of equal­i­ty and human dig­ni­ty is main­ly lim­it­ed to men of white skins.” Antic­i­pat­ing a casu­al­ly racist defense of “nat­ur­al” dif­fer­ences, Ein­stein replies:

I am firm­ly con­vinced that who­ev­er believes this suf­fers from a fatal mis­con­cep­tion. Your ances­tors dragged these black peo­ple from their homes by force; and in the white man’s quest for wealth and an easy life they have been ruth­less­ly sup­pressed and exploit­ed, degrad­ed into slav­ery. The mod­ern prej­u­dice against Negroes is the result of the desire to main­tain this unwor­thy con­di­tion.

The ancient Greeks also had slaves. They were not Negroes but white men who had been tak­en cap­tive in war. There could be no talk of racial dif­fer­ences. And yet Aris­to­tle, one of the great Greek philoso­phers, declared slaves infe­ri­or beings who were just­ly sub­dued and deprived of their lib­er­ty. It is clear that he was enmeshed in a tra­di­tion­al prej­u­dice from which, despite his extra­or­di­nary intel­lect, he could not free him­self.

Like the ancient Greeks, Amer­i­cans’ prej­u­dices are “con­di­tioned by opin­ions and emo­tions which we uncon­scious­ly absorb as chil­dren from our envi­ron­ment.” And racist atti­tudes are both caus­es and effects of eco­nom­ic exploita­tion, learned behav­iors that emerge from his­tor­i­cal cir­cum­stances, yet we “rarely reflect” how pow­er­ful the influ­ence of tra­di­tion is “upon our con­duct and con­vic­tions.” The sit­u­a­tion can be reme­died, Ein­stein believed, though not “quick­ly healed.” The “man of good will,” he wrote, “must have the courage to set an exam­ple by word and deed, and must watch lest his chil­dren become influ­enced by this racial bias.”

Read the full essay at On Being, and learn more about Einstein’s com­mit­ted anti-racist activism from Fred Jerome and Rodger Taylor’s 2006 book Ein­stein on Race and Racism.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Albert Ein­stein Called Racism “A Dis­ease of White Peo­ple” in His Lit­tle-Known Fight for Civ­il Rights

Lis­ten as Albert Ein­stein Calls for Peace and Social Jus­tice in 1945

Albert Ein­stein Express­es His Admi­ra­tion for Mahat­ma Gand­hi, in Let­ter and Audio

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Hear a 9,000 Year Old Flute—the World’s Oldest Playable Instrument—Get Played Again

Clas­si­cal music enthu­si­asts seem to agree that the renew­al of inter­est in peri­od instru­ments made for a notice­able change in the sound of most, if not all, orches­tral per­for­mances. But does­n’t the repli­ca­tion and use of vio­ls, oph­i­clei­des, and fortepi­anos from the times of Bach, Beethoven, and Mozart raise a curios­i­ty about what peo­ple used to make music gen­er­a­tions before them, and gen­er­a­tions before that? How ear­ly can we get into ear­ly music and still find tools to use in the 21st cen­tu­ry? Since the end of the 20th, we’ve had the same answer: about nine mil­len­nia.

“Chi­nese arche­ol­o­gists have unearthed what is believed to be the old­est known playable musi­cal instru­ment,” wrote Hen­ry Foun­tain in a 1999 New York Times arti­cle on the dis­cov­ery of “a sev­en-holed flute fash­ioned 9,000 years ago from the hol­low wing bone of a large bird.”

Those holes “pro­duced a rough scale cov­er­ing a mod­ern octave, begin­ning close to the sec­ond A above mid­dle C,” and the fact of this “care­ful­ly select­ed tone scale indi­cates that the Neolith­ic musi­cians may have been able to play more than sin­gle notes, but actu­al music.”

You can hear the haunt­ing sounds of this old­est playable musi­cal instru­ment known to man in the clip above. When would those pre­his­toric humans have heard it them­selves? Foun­tain quotes eth­no­mu­si­col­o­gist Fred­er­ick Lau as say­ing that these flutes “almost cer­tain­ly were used in rit­u­als,” per­haps “at tem­ple fairs, buri­als and oth­er rit­u­al­is­tic events,” and pos­si­bly even for “for per­son­al enter­tain­ment.” 9,000 years ago, one sure­ly took one’s enter­tain­ment where one could find it.

If this lis­ten­ing expe­ri­ence has giv­en you a taste for the real oldies — not just the AM-radio but the his­to­ry-of-mankind sense — you can also hear in our archive the 43,000-year-old “Nean­derthal flute” (found only in frag­ments, but recon­struct­ed) as well as such ancient songs as 100 BC’s “Seik­i­los Epi­taph,” a com­po­si­tion by Euripi­des from a cen­tu­ry before that, and a 3,400-year-old Sumer­ian hymn known as the old­est song in the world, all of which rais­es an impor­tant ques­tion: what will the peo­ple of the year 11000 think when they unearth our DJ rigs, those arti­facts of so many of our own rit­u­al­is­tic events, and give them a spin?

You can get more infor­ma­tion on this ancient flute here.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Hear the “Seik­i­los Epi­taph,” the Old­est Com­plete Song in the World: An Inspir­ing Tune from 100 BC

What Ancient Greek Music Sound­ed Like: Hear a Recon­struc­tion That is ‘100% Accu­rate’

Hear the World’s Old­est Sur­viv­ing Writ­ten Song (200 BC), Orig­i­nal­ly Com­posed by Euripi­des, the Ancient Greek Play­wright

Lis­ten to the Old­est Song in the World: A Sumer­ian Hymn Writ­ten 3,400 Years Ago

Hear the World’s Old­est Instru­ment, the “Nean­derthal Flute,” Dat­ing Back Over 43,000 Years

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer, the video series The City in Cin­e­ma, the crowd­fund­ed jour­nal­ism project Where Is the City of the Future?, and the Los Ange­les Review of Books’ Korea Blog. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

A Gallery of Visually Arresting Posters from the May 1968 Paris Uprising

In 1968, both Robert F. Kennedy and Mar­tin Luther King, Jr. were assas­si­nat­ed, and U.S. cities erupt­ed in riots; anti-war demon­stra­tors chant­ed “the whole world is watch­ing” as police beat and tear-gassed them in Chica­go out­side the Demo­c­ra­t­ic con­ven­tion. George Wal­lace led a pop­u­lar polit­i­cal move­ment of Klan sym­pa­thiz­ers and White Cit­i­zens Coun­cils in a vicious back­lash against the gains of the Civ­il Rights move­ment; and the venge­ful, para­noid Richard Nixon was elect­ed pres­i­dent and began to inten­si­fy the war in Viet­nam and pur­sue his pro­gram of harass­ment and impris­on­ment of black Amer­i­cans and anti-war activists through Hoover’s FBI (and lat­er the bogus “war on drugs”).

Good times, and giv­en sev­er­al per­ti­nent sim­i­lar­i­ties to our cur­rent moment, it seems like a year to revis­it if we want to see recent exam­ples of orga­nized, deter­mined resis­tance by a very belea­guered Left. We might look to the Black Pan­thers, the Yip­pies, or Stu­dents for a Demo­c­ra­t­ic Soci­ety, to name a few promi­nent and occa­sion­al­ly affil­i­at­ed groups. But we can also revis­it a near-rev­o­lu­tion across the ocean, when French stu­dents and work­ers took to the Paris streets and almost pro­voked a civ­il war against the gov­ern­ment of author­i­tar­i­an pres­i­dent Charles de Gaulle. The events often referred to sim­ply as Mai 68 have haunt­ed French con­ser­v­a­tives ever since, such that pres­i­dent Nico­las Sarkozy forty years lat­er claimed their mem­o­ry “must be liq­ui­dat­ed.”

May 1968, wrote Steven Erlanger on the 40th anniver­sary, was “a holy moment of lib­er­a­tion for many, when youth coa­lesced, the work­ers lis­tened and the semi-roy­al French gov­ern­ment of de Gaulle took fright.” As loose coali­tions in the U.S. pushed back against their gov­ern­ment on mul­ti­ple fronts, the Paris upris­ing (“rev­o­lu­tion” or “riot,” depend­ing on who writes the his­to­ry) brought togeth­er sev­er­al groups in com­mon pur­pose who would have oth­er­wise nev­er have bro­ken bread: “a crazy array of left­ist groups,” stu­dents, and ordi­nary work­ing peo­ple, writes Peter Ste­in­fels, includ­ing “revi­sion­ist social­ists, Trot­sky­ists, Maoists, anar­chists, sur­re­al­ists and Marx­ists. They were anti­com­mu­nist as much as ant­i­cap­i­tal­ist. Some appeared anti-indus­tri­al, anti-insti­tu­tion­al, even anti-ratio­nal.”

“Be real­is­tic: Demand the impos­si­ble!” was one of the May move­men­t’s slo­gans. A great many more slo­gans and icons appeared on “extreme­ly fine exam­ples of polem­i­cal poster art” like those you see here. These come to us via Dan­ger­ous Minds, who explain:

The Ate­lier Pop­u­laire, run by Marx­ist artists and art stu­dents, occu­pied the École des Beaux-Arts and ded­i­cat­ed its efforts to pro­duc­ing thou­sands of silk-screened posters using bold, icon­ic imagery and slo­gans as well as explic­it­ly collective/anonymous author­ship. Most of the posters were print­ed on newssheet using a sin­gle col­or with basic icons such as the fac­to­ry to rep­re­sent labor and a fist to stand for resis­tance.

The Paris upris­ings began with uni­ver­si­ty stu­dents, protest­ing same-sex dorms and demand­ing edu­ca­tion­al reform, “the release of arrest­ed stu­dents and the reopen­ing of the Nan­terre cam­pus of the Uni­ver­si­ty of Paris,” notes the Glob­al Non­vi­o­lent Action Data­base. But in the fol­low­ing weeks the “protests esca­lat­ed and gained more pop­u­lar sup­port, because of con­tin­u­ing police bru­tal­i­ty.” Among the accu­mu­lat­ing demo­c­ra­t­ic demands and labor protests, writes Ste­in­fels, was “one great fear… that con­tem­po­rary cap­i­tal­ism was capa­ble of absorb­ing any and all crit­i­cal ideas or move­ments and bend­ing them to its own advan­tage. Hence, the need for provoca­tive shock tac­tics.”

This fear was dra­ma­tized by Sit­u­a­tion­ists, who—like Yip­pies in the States—gen­er­al­ly pre­ferred absur­dist street the­ater to earnest polit­i­cal action. And it pro­vid­ed the the­sis of one of the most rad­i­cal texts to come out of the tumul­tuous times, Guy Debord’s The Soci­ety of the Spec­ta­cle. In a his­tor­i­cal irony that would have Debord “spin­ning in his grave,” the Sit­u­a­tion­ist the­o­rist has him­self been co-opt­ed, rec­og­nized as a “nation­al trea­sure” by the French gov­ern­ment, writes Andrew Gal­lix, and yet, “no one—not even his sworn ide­o­log­i­cal enemies—can deny Debord’s impor­tance.”

The same could be said for Michel Fou­cault, who found the events of May ’68 trans­for­ma­tion­al. Fou­cault pro­nounced him­self “tremen­dous­ly impressed” with stu­dents will­ing to be beat­en and jailed, and his “turn to polit­i­cal mil­i­tan­cy with­in a post-1968 hori­zon was the chief cat­a­lyst for halt­ing and then redi­rect­ing his the­o­ret­i­cal work,” argues pro­fes­sor of phi­los­o­phy Bernard Gen­dron, even­tu­al­ly “lead­ing to the pub­li­ca­tion of Dis­ci­pline and Pun­ish,” his ground­break­ing “geneal­o­gy” of impris­on­ment and sur­veil­lance.

Many more promi­nent the­o­rists and intel­lec­tu­als took part and found inspi­ra­tion in the move­ment, includ­ing André Glucks­mann, who recalled May 1968 as “a moment, either sub­lime or detest­ed, that we want to com­mem­o­rate or bury.… a ‘cadav­er,’ from which every­one wants to rob a piece.” His com­ments sum up the gen­er­al cyn­i­cism and ambiva­lence of many on the French left when it comes to May ’68: “The hope was to change the world,” he says, “but it was inevitably incom­plete, and the insti­tu­tions of the state are untouched.” Both stu­dent and labor groups still man­aged to push through sev­er­al sig­nif­i­cant reforms and win many gov­ern­ment con­ces­sions before police and de Gaulle sup­port­ers rose up in the thou­sands and quelled the upris­ing (fur­ther evi­dence, Anne-Elis­a­beth Moutet argued this month, that “author­i­tar­i­an­ism is the norm in France”).

The icon­ic posters here rep­re­sent what Ste­in­fels calls the movement’s “utopi­an impulse,” one how­ev­er that “did not aim at human per­fectibil­i­ty but only at imag­in­ing that life could real­ly be dif­fer­ent and a whole lot bet­ter.” These images were col­lect­ed in 2008 for a Lon­don exhi­bi­tion titled “May 68: street Posters from the Paris Rebel­lion,” and they’ve been pub­lished in book form in Beau­ty is in the Street: A Visu­al Record of the May ’68 Paris Upris­ing. (You can also find and down­load many posters in the dig­i­tal col­lec­tion host­ed by the Bib­lio­theque nationale de France.) 

Per­haps the co-option Debord pre­dict­ed was as inevitable as he feared. But like many rad­i­cal U.S. move­ments in the six­ties, the coor­di­nat­ed mobi­liza­tion of huge num­bers of peo­ple from every stra­ta of French soci­ety dur­ing those exhil­a­rat­ing and dan­ger­ous few weeks opened a win­dow on the pos­si­ble. Despite its short-lived nature, May 1968 irrev­o­ca­bly altered French civ­il soci­ety and intel­lec­tu­al cul­ture. As Jean-Paul Sartre said of the move­ment, “What’s impor­tant is that the action took place, when every­body believed it to be unthink­able. If it took place this time, it can hap­pen again.”

via Dan­ger­ous Minds/Messy N Chic

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Strik­ing Posters From Occu­py Wall Street: Down­load Them for Free

Theodor Adorno’s Rad­i­cal Cri­tique of Joan Baez and the Music of the Viet­nam War Protest Move­ment

Bed Peace Revis­its John Lennon & Yoko Ono’s Famous Anti-Viet­nam Protests

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

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