01 Panourgiá 2003 the Stratigraphy of Dislocation Jerusalem C

Copyright 2003 SAGE Publications (www.sagepublications.com)Vol 3(2): 139150 [1469-6053(200306)3:2;139150;032573]

Journal of Social Archaeology A R T I C L E

139

The stratigraphy of dislocation Jerusalem,Cairo, New YorkAn interview with Edward Said

NENI PANOURGI AND STATHIS GOURGOURIS

Department of Anthropology, and Department of English and ComparativeLiterature, Columbia University, USA

YIORGOS CHOULIARAS

Athens, Greece

The fundamental questions that guided this interview have beeninformed by Edward Saids long-term project of exposing the complic-ity between the cultural and the political, between constructions aboutobjectivity and structures of imperialism and colonialism, and processesthat have assigned ethical accountabilities to differing cultural formu-lations. What emerges clearly from Saids answers is the complexity ofmodalities that make the identity of the post-colonial critic possible. Theinterview was originally commissioned by the independent public televisionseries On the Paths of Thought, for the National Broadcast System inAthens, Greece, initially conducted by Yiorgos Chouliaras and StathisGourgouris and broadcast in Greece. Some of the original questions, anda number of new ones, were resubmitted to Said by Neni Panourgi on 10June 2002; the interview was then edited again, working closely with Said.1

NP: For almost three decades now you have occupied a space in the publicdomain that transcends the distinctions between the academic and the

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social, between the cultural and the political, between an idealizedivory tower and the world out there, showing us all that there isneither here nor there, but rather that the here is always inevitablyalso there. Nowhere is that more painfully and abundantly clear asnow, at the height of the PalestinianIsraeli conflict, the painful eventsthat surround 9/11, all events, modalities, developments that havebeen anticipated in the analysis of texts, politics, and cultures thatconstitute your work. Obviously the here and there that haveinformed and impregnated your work from the beginning is thequestion of Palestine. We would like to ask you about the broaderquestions you continue to ask in reference to Palestine, especially thequestions that interject at and dissolve matters of epistemologicalstability and sterility, questions that tell us that there is no such thingas an apolitical, disinterested, disengaged, objective scholarship.

ES: My interest in Palestine comes, obviously, from the fact that ImPalestinian, but theres more to it than that. Its not just a matter forme of my ethnic origin; thats an accident. My interest in the Pales-tinian movement emerges from its being first of all a nationalistmovement of resistance, anti-colonial resistance, but also and evenmore important, that within the Arab setting the Palestinian move-ment represented a radicalizing movement that not only brought upthe question of nationhood for the Palestinians, which is of course aquestion central to the movement, but it also raised other questionsof social justice, and discrimination and, above all, freedom. I thoughtmy role as an intellectual in the West was to speak out about all this.At the beginning, my assertions were basically a sort of affirmationof the existence of Palestinians. In 1969, Golda Meir said that therewere no Palestinians. So it was my role, I felt, to demonstrate theexistence of a Palestinian people, and in addition, within the Pales-tinian context, to try to represent the secular alternative which, Ibelieve, was the principle of the movement. I still think that thePalestinian movement is principally a secular movement, set againstother movements that began to appear in the Arab and Islamic worldthat seemed to be reversions to a nativist and primitivist path. Suchwas the case of the Iranian revolution, which I supported initially;I supported it as a social and political revolution, I didnt supportit later on when it became a tyrannical Islamic revolution, and ofcourse I couldnt support it in its attack on Salman Rushdie, forinstance.

Similarly in my part of the world, in the Arab-Islamic world, Isupported secular alternative movements: the womens movement,the human rights movement, movements for freedom of expression,and so forth. At the same time, I recognized that what was gripping


141Panourgi, Gourgouris & Chouliaras The stratigraphy of dislocation

the population was the idea of a return to Islam, an Islamic restora-tionist movement. Ive always been critical of such movements andIve always expressed my criticism in public by saying that we couldnot, in the twentieth (now in the twenty-first) century, return to someearlier ideal (a) because the ideal is irrecoverable and (b) because allsuch returns involve a new politics of domination, essentially authori-tarianism, dogmatism, whereas I felt the role of the intellectual andthe role of the Palestinian movement was to present a new criticalunderstanding of the contemporary world.

NP: My generation of scholars and intellectuals, at least in the UnitedStates, has been marked by the publication of a seminal work thatyou produced, Orientalism, which showed us the structures that makepossible specific cultural modalities, such as the sense of entitlementthat comes with imperialism, or the sense of authority that accom-panies colonialism. Foucauldean in its methodology but decidedlySaidian in its conceptualization, it is a work that has produced gener-ations of intellectuals, but also has provoked vehement resistances,not only from expected sources such as western anti-post-colonial-ists, but also from the post-colonial left. What do you see as some ofthe most fundamental misreadings of the book?

ES: Well, I think that what Orientalism did was to make people sensitiveto the notion of representation, to the fact that how you talk aboutanother people involves politics, involves power, involves a contestof some sort. Previously it had been thought that it was perfectly OKfor European and American orientalists or scientists to speak aboutthe Orient in a general sense, because they, the Orientals, werenever thought to be the audience. What I tried to do was to focus onthe fact that ideas like Orient and Occident and notions of nationalidentity were basically constructions, and they served particularpurposes of knowledge, which was always affiliated to a particularpower situation. I think that has now come to be more widelyaccepted since I wrote Orientalism, that people no longer believe with a few exceptions that there is such a thing as a social or humanscience that is entirely objective, disinterested, neutral, impartial. SoI think thats been one notion in which it has been successful.Another one is that the people themselves have a right to representthemselves, and its not just the Westerner speaking about and forthe Oriental, but that the Oriental can represent himself or herself,and the idea that distinctions and discriminations construct largegeneralizations has now also become widely acknowledged as a resultof Orientalism.

Now, there are two other things that are, in my opinion, tremen-dous misunderstandings of Orientalism that have bothered me. Its



been taken by a lot of people to be a book that is, basically, anti-Western. Of course, the whole point of the book is that labels likeWest and East, and Occidental and Oriental, et cetera, are ideologicalconstructions, that theyre not representative of the whole actuality,because, I say, the whole actuality cannot be represented. You cantreally say what the Orient is, I never try to say that. And in fact, partof the difficulty of the book is that I make the case that, lets say,Flaubert on the one hand, and Massignon (a twentieth-centuryFrench orientalist) on the other, are very different from somebodylike Ernest Renan, who hated the Semitic people, or Bernard Lewis,who also has a tremendous dislike for the Arabs and for the Slavs.So there are gradations within Orientalism that I think are lost in thedebate now about Islam versus the West. People think Im part ofthat debate; Im not.

The other misunderstanding of the book, which is quite wide-spread, is that somehow the book is taken to be a disguised defenseof Islam or the Arabs, and in fact I say nothing about Islam or theArabs in the book. I simply say that the terms used to describe themare inadequate because they are general, they are hostile, etc. But Idont advance the thesis in that book that the Arabs are such-and-such, or Islam is such-and-such, but by many Muslims in the Islamicworld, my book is taken to be in fact a defense of a pure Islam, whichis totally against my beliefs.

NP: With Orientalism, initially, but even more so with Culture andImperialism later, you proposed a different reading of imperialism,one that, in the thicket of Marxist, economic and political analysesof the late 1970s had been occluded; you gave a name to what culturedoes when it becomes part of the imperialist, colonialist, expansion-ist project, and you located that notion of culture not only in theobvious (literature, criticism, and so forth), but also within specificepistemic structures (such as archaeology and philology). Would yourevisit the marks that you have set in this trajectory?

ES: Most of the discussions I am familiar with that concern imperialismtended to look at imperialism as basically an economic and politicalprocess, and the argument that I make about imperialism in theWestern instance, that is to say the great empires the British andthe French principally, more than the American is that after theend of the eighteenth century they were different from other empiresin two main ways. One is that they were systematic enterprises, theywere not expeditions to go and get gold. Nor were they necessarilyonly acts of settlement, but they were continuous invested-inprocesses, that compelled and subjugated people at a great distance,so the idea of the overseas empire is an important one here. Why did



an Englishman think, for example like John Stuart Mill did in thenineteenth century, that it was the destiny of England to rule India,eight, nine, ten thousand miles away?

The second component here is that culture plays a very importantrole, in fact I would say that culture prepares the way for the greatsystematic empires by allowing people to think in Europe that it wastheir natural duty, obligation, destiny to expand, and that cultureallowed them this idea in a number of ways: the superiority ofWestern civilization, their technological advancement, the inferiorityof native peoples, and so on and so forth. These ideas, I found, arevery prevalent not only in the obviously imperialist writers at the endof the nineteenth century, like Kipling and Conrad, but also in novel-ists in particular, like Jane Austen and Dickens, who wrote at a muchearlier period before the formal age of Empire (that according toHobsbawm begins at the end of the nineteenth century). So Empire,from my point of view, contains a notion of an enterprise that is muchmore widespread than simply going out and getting property. I wasinterested in the cultural component, because the cultural componentto a large degree has been hidden, its not been talked about. Theassumption has been that somehow culture is exempt from thesesorts of practices, and I tried to show through a political analysis ofculture that culture plays a very important political role, legitimizing,enabling, preparing, consolidating attitudes of reference to geogra-phy and to other peoples that persists throughout imperialism, andthat can only be defeated by the resistance of people elsewhere.

Now, one of the resistances to empires is of course the sense thatwe are not simply native people, or colored people, or inferior races,but that we have our own traditions. We have a long history oflanguage, culture, etc., which has to be asserted to confront theBritish and the French. In Africa, for instance, it was the idea of goingback to native costume, to native habits, to separating from the whiteman. But more important than that, I think, is the founding of oppo-sition parties, lets say, by the end of the nineteenth century; forexample, in India the Congress Party was established by the 1880s.They were nationalist parties that tried to reassert through literature,through history, through language, a sense of a native identity thatwas free of the British (in the case of the Indians), and this identity,eventually, acquired a tremendous prominence in the politics ofimperialism, as oppositional identity, and of course it flowered intowhat we call nationalism. But I would argue against the notion thatnationalism comes from the West. I think nationalism is to be foundwherever there is a sense of people who have a sense of belonging,which is something that always exists, we know this in all cases. Ithink one of the arguments that have been made by people in the



West like Ernest Gellner, that nationalism is incomprehensiblewithout the West, is wrong. I think its nonsense.

Nationalism is defined in different ways, but it doesnt alwaysexpress itself in the need or desire to have a state or a nation, but itexpresses itself in various ideas of community, imagined communi-ties in Benedict Andersons words. I think, in all of this, what is mostimportant for me is the dynamic sense in which identities are alwaysconstructions, that cultural contests always include politics, and thattheres a large element of change and criticism involved in thisprocess. In the case of India for example, we would have to look atthe role of Tagore, who was a national poet and writer he won theNobel prize. He was a nationalist and at the same time he was criticalof nationalism; he said that we must not repeat the mistakes ofcolonialism. Fanon said the same thing about the Algerian revolutionin the late fifties and the early sixties, that we cant repeat the depre-dations of the West, we have to be critical of our own nationalism,that there has to be a social transformation. So, I think that estab-lishes, you might say, the play of what I was trying to do in Cultureand Imperialism.

NP: You have often spoken, privately, about an affinity you have forGreece. What do you see in modern Greece, in the modern Greeknow, that is of interest to you?

ES: The contemporary Greek has suffered in many ways some of thefates of the contemporary Arab or Muslim, that is to say, he or sheis the last person to be heard from. Theres a great deal of talk, forexample in the Islamic world, by orientalists, who talk about classicalIslam, who talk about the Arabs as a people who basically emergedinto world history in the seventh and eighth century. The same is trueof the Greeks. I mean the contemporary Greeks are rarely talkedabout, but they are referred to much more than the Arabs as thecountry, the nation, the place in which western civilization began.And there are many claims made about Greece, and Greekdemocracy, and Greek culture, and Attic civilization, that make noreference whatever to the continuing history of a Greek nation, thatmay have begun with Homer but continues really through thethirteenth and fifteenth and nineteenth and twentieth century, withthe people that it has transformed through ethnic hybridity, throughcontinual cultural change, through wars and occupations and so forth.It has an identity of its own, it has a literature of its own, it obviouslyhas a language of its own. All this is put aside. Second, the claimsmade for the Greek ideal, historically and classically, have alwaysbeen to detach the Greek ideal from its setting, that is to say, itsgeographical setting, which is precisely the Mediterranean. And the



Mediterranean would involve obviously the connection betweenGreece not only looking to the West, but Greece looking to the East,the relationship between Greece and Turkey, animosity and all; butalso between the Greeks and the Semites, between the Greeks andthe Africans, between the Greeks and the Asians, and so on, whereGreek science and Greek commerce and Greek civilization playedan extraordinary role, infiltrating, being infiltrated by, making for amuch more complex picture, all of which comes down to the present,where Greek politics and culture in the contemporary state have alife of their own which are completely, again, occluded, marginalized.So in that respect I think there is a great community here, I call itthe Levantine community, or Mediterranean community of Greeks,Arabs, Jews, Muslims, Christians and so forth, which has createdinteresting realities; take, for example, the case of my own identity I should mention this my fathers family, before my grandfatherconverted to Protestantism, was Greek Orthodox. The presence ofGreek Orthodox communities in the Arab world has a fantasticimportance on the relationship between Greeks and the Arab world,you might say Greek civilization and Arab civilization, that iscompletely unknown.

NP: For quite some time now you have been working on ConstantineCavafy, the Alexandrian poet of the turn of the twentieth century.Although born in Palestine, after 1947 you grew up in Egypt, in thecontext of what was the end of a multicultural world, a world thathas had a tremendous importance for the development of modernGreece and modern Greek identity. Modern Greeks have been lostto Egypt for a long time now, but the memory still exists of a culturalformulation that allowed for Greeks, Arabs (Muslim and Christians),Jews, and southern Europeans to share in the process of continuousand dialectical cultural exchange, which was precisely the contextthat produced Cavafy. How have these interjections informed yourown sense of identity?

ES: I was very attracted to Cavafy because, as you said, I spent the earlypart of my life in Egypt, and one of the great presences in my lifewhen I was growing up in Egypt was the Greek community. ManyGreeks were in school with me, I went to a multicultural school,which was an English school. I mean, the English tried to make it intoan English school, which it was, but at the same time it was a multi-cultural school in that there were no English students in the school;the students were all from various parts of the Arab world, Jor-danians, Palestinians, Saudi Arabians, Syrians, etc.; many Jews,eastern Jews from Iraq and Egypt and so on; plus, many Greeks, soI had many Greek classmates, and Armenians, and Italians. It was a



Levantine school basically. It wasnt really until after I left Egypt tocome to America (while my family remained there for some time), itwasnt really until the 1960s or the 1970s, that I became aware ofCavafy as a kind of emblem of this culture, which hitherto I had onlyknown through the bastardized versions of Lawrence Durrell,through The Alexandria Quartet and so forth, which I think is adebased form of all this. Anyway, I discovered Cavafys poetrythrough the translations that became available I think in the sixties,and what particularly impressed me about him was this remarkablequality that his poetry has. Id never seen it before; you dont see itin Arabic literature at the time, I certainly didnt see it in anyEuropean literature written about or in the Arab world (and, at anyrate, theres not much of it); that is to say, I saw a quite extraordinaryamalgam between, on the one hand, an obviously Greek identity,writing in contemporary Greek, but at the same time making contem-porary to each other the Alexandrian world and the classical world.This remarkable intercourse that Cavafy managed between theseworlds suggested to me a whole new prototype for the writing ofmodern poetry that was much closer to me than, say, the work of T.S.Eliot, and Auden (whom I admired) or even Yeats. And, it was muchmore present to me in some way, in an anguished sort of way, becauseI didnt know modern Greek, so I read him only in translations. I alsodiscovered the remarkable work of people like Marguerite Yource-nar, who did the first French translation of his work, and I began tosee traces of Cavafy in other writers, even Greeks in America writingabout Cavafy in English, and it all gave a new profile to me of theMediterranean writer, or Levantine writer, who was really not justGreek but also part of a common heritage of Arabs like myself, whoare interested in western as well as non-western literature.

NP: You have invested the largest portion of your life in the Palestinianmovement, both as an intellectual and, until the Oslo agreementwhen you distanced yourself from the leadership of the PLO, as anactivist. Under the current circumstances, and knowing the history ofthe movement as well as you do, having engaged in the theoreticaland the political analyses that you have over the course of the life ofthis movement, would you be willing to locate politically, but alsotemporally, the moment when the project of the PLO, as you hadseen it hitherto, started to collapse?

ES: Unfortunately, I would say that by the late 1980s, there was a trans-formation of the Palestinian movement, so much so that mistakeswere made at the time of the Gulf War, and there was also a tremen-dous sense of subservience, what I call willing subservience. They feltthat with the end of the Cold War and the collapse of the Soviet



Union, that one had to throw ones self into the arms of America.And here my role became doubly critical, that is to say, I was notonly continuing to speak about Palestinian self-determination andfreedom from oppression and about dialogue and about a politicalresolution (which I always believed was the only resolution, notarmed struggle), but also I continued to speak about the fact that Ibelieved that the decisions being made, mostly represented by thedeclaration of principles in Oslo, were tremendous mistakes. Theywere diversions from liberation, and in fact the leadership,represented by Yasser Arafat or the PLO, had put itself in theposition of accepting a role that was subordinate to Israel. The PLOwould become the enforcer of the occupation, and the Israelis weregoing to remain in place, with their armies and settlements and soon, with the tragic results that we are seeing now. And also, becauseI think that the Palestinian leadership, under Yasser Arafat, alsothought that by making this deal secretly with Israel they would savethemselves.

I felt that they completely disregarded the interest of the largemass of the people, 50 per cent of whom dont live in Palestine, theyare stateless refugees in Lebanon and Syria and Jordan and so on,and that in effect the movement had abandoned its liberationist idealand became the first I seem to say this with a great deal of shameas a Palestinian liberation movement in the twentieth century tohave made a deal with the occupation before the end of the occu-pation. No other liberation movement did it. Instead, the PLOrepresented it as being an important achievement; I think it was atremendous capitulation. So, Ive kept up as much as I can thestruggle against the leadership, I do it publicly in the Arabic press,but also the European and the English and American press, butbecause of my illness I dont feel that I can participate more than thatin politics. But I believe that the only answer is a change in the leader-ship and a new direction for the struggle.

NP: You have declared a great investment in the role of the intellectualas an organic part of the social, cultural and political landscape, andthis comes through not only in your Representations of the Intellec-tual, but in many of the epistemological interjections that you havemade. One that I have now in mind, in particular, is your debate withanthropology and anthropologists, in Representing the Colonized.But you have also noted that the role of the intellectual is, should be,circumscribed by an active engagement with the critique of power.Do you see any dangers inherent in the concurrent participation inpolitical praxis and the exercise of a critique of power? Can there bean active reading of accountabilities alongside a political activism?



ES: I think the intellectual, broadly considered, lets say in the Grams-cian definition, is an organic part of the nationalist movement. Andthe interesting thing about the intellectual here, at least in imperial-ism, is that its not necessarily a left intellectual or a right intellec-tual; you want to say there is a kind of consensus on the question ofEmpire. On the left, on the right, or in the middle, being an intel-lectual was considered to be a natural thing to do. Now of course, inthe non-European world, in Africa and Asia and so on, the intellec-tual plays a very important role in the emergence of a nationalistconsciousness. It could be a writer, for instance. I take the exampleof Yeats, who was a great poet, a national poet, and very muchattached to a kind of mythological Ireland, but because he was sucha great poet and he played such a part in the Irish renaissance at theend of the nineteenth century, he was thought of as a nationalist poetbecause of course he was very anti-British, and more important,because he established a kind of consciousness of Irish destiny, orIrish resistance to the British, and a separate Irish national mission.I think this is one of the main roles intellectuals play: to create thatnew consciousness, in the different ways in which this occurs. Poetryis one way. The Arab renaissance, the Arab nahda at the end of thenineteenth century and the beginning of the twentieth century, wasanother one. This involved the revival of the Arabic language, itsmodernization, the telling of stories and narratives about Arabhistory introduced into the Arab World (which was part of theOttoman empire but also was dominated by the British and theFrench) in order to give a new sense of identity to Arabs, so that theymight understand their own history in a different and independentway.

In all of this, I think one sees the role of intellectuals as, if you like,poets and priests at the same time. There is a kind of proselytizingmissionary quality to it; a sort of we need to do this. They aresummoning the nation. You also see it in Russia, for example, in thenineteenth century. So: the intellectual as missionary. But what inter-ests me more, if it is possible to distinguish it in this movement, areintellectuals who in addition to being mobilizers of opinion, alsobring with them another attribute which I would call, not only secular(so theyre talking about this world and not the next world, theresno appeal to transcendental ideals and transcendental others and soforth), but also intellectuals who understand power and its limits,who keep saying in addition to what were doing now we must alsothink that there are limits to power. Fanon, for instance, asked thequestion of whether we want the Black policemen simply to fill therole of the White policemen, or rather do we want a differentconsciousness that would transform society into an egalitarian one,in which injustice would be eliminated, in which power would be



curtailed. To my view, therefore, the role of the intellectual today isthat of a secular intellectual, not appealing to pride, flag, nation,religion, but rather, to critical values that have to do with freedomfrom oppression, injustice, and above all the unmasking of thecorporate images put out by the state, the media, and all the regi-mentalized authorities of society.

SG: Was Adorno a model for you?

ES: I think Adorno represents for me one of the models of the European-style intellectuals who grew up in the period before the Second WorldWar and during it. I think hes unique in the sense that hes the onlywestern intellectual and philosopher of a major standing, whose prin-ciple focus (and I think one can trace this to all of his work) is music.Music represents a kind of the most refined (that is, the most elusiveat the same time but also the most obvious) sign of the bourgeoisie,through all of its manifestations, beginning with the withdrawal ofBeethoven in the third period to a new realm, the birth of collectivepassions that emerge in fascism and Stalinism, but also a kind ofrevolt against that in the work of people like Schnberg, a kind ofnew definition which is so difficult. And the idea of difficulty is centralto Adorno. He also represents to me the philosophical and intellec-tual consciousness of refusing to be compromised, refusing tocompromise. In this respect, hes a great model. Nothing that he eversays can be paraphrased. Theres a kind of extremism in his writingwhich is impossible to fulfil in the end; in the end, he becomes evenimpossible to read. But he is a kind of model for an intellectual whostrives for a certain kind of ideal precision, no matter what the diffi-culty is, and a kind of intransigence, which I respect.

In a certain sense, Chomsky is related to Adorno in America today,because he too speaks against the consensus, and in a certain sensehes never been accommodated or co-opted. Hes never been askedby the major newspapers to write an op-ed piece, for example. Andwhat he says goes completely against the grain of the currentAmerican wisdom, especially in political science and social thought.But I think also what Chomsky has that Adorno didnt have is thecapacity to reach larger audiences, because hes an accessible man.Unlike Adorno, he doesnt try to hide inside his prose; theres a kindof vulnerability and openness there, which is completely unique tohim amongst American intellectuals. In other words, he doesnt hidein the academy; hes available to movements in the Third World, topeople at a great distance, and of course he represents a kind of intel-lectual conscience that has a lot to do with atoning for Americancrimes, the corporate and statist crimes of America around the world(especially in Vietnam which is when he came to prominence). Andin that respect, he strikes me also (although he isnt for many people)



as a model for the intellectual, somebody whos not afraid to bewrong, but above all hes not afraid to take risks at great personalcost to himself, and of course, hes indefatigable. He turns out relent-lessly these works, so that, whether he repeats himself or not, whetherhes absolutely right in each piece or not, in general one cant butrespect and admire him. In that sense hes quite unique. I would behappier if he were more of a model for most intellectuals; but he isnt.

Note

1 The series On the Paths of Thought, under the guidance of ConstantineTsoucalas and directed by Yiannis Kaspiris has, in the course of the past eightseasons, managed to interview a large number of intellectuals internationally. Iwant to thank everyone at On the Paths of Thought for making the initialinterview available to me and Matthew Palus who worked on the finaltranscription. The deepest gratitude, however, is owed to Professor Said, who inthe midst of the most recent deteriorations in the PalestinianIsraeli conflict,and also with his ill health, and despite the fact that he has announced that hedoes not grant interviews any longer, agreed to submit to this interview againwith the graciousness and generosity for which he is renowned.

EDWARD W. SAID is University Professor at Columbia University,wherehe has been teaching since 1963. He has been the recipient of a Guggen-heim Fellowship (19721973), the Lionel Trilling Award at ColumbiaUniversity twice (1976, 1994), and has been awarded the Picasso Medal byUNESCO (1994), The Spinoza Prize (1999) and The New Yorker Book Awardfor Non-Fiction (1999). His major publications include Beginnings: Inten-tion and Method (1975), Orientalism (1978), The Palestine Question and theAmerican Context (1979), The Question of Palestine (1979), Covering Islam:How the Media and the Experts Determine How We See the Rest of the World(1981), The World, the Text and the Critic (1983), Musical Elaborations (1991),Culture and Imperialism (1993), The Politics of Dispossession: The Struggle forPalestinian Self-Determination, 19681994 (1994), Representations of theIntellectual (1994), Out of Place (1999) and Reflections on Exile and OtherEssays (2001), in addition to edited volumes, and numerous articles, inter-views and editorial pieces. He has been a music critic for The Nation, andhe is on the editorial board of diacritics, Critical Inquiry, Boundary Two,Raritan Review, Third Text and Cultural Critique, among many others. He isthe General Editor of the series Convergences, at Harvard University Press,a past President of the Modern Language Association (1999) and aconsultant at the United Nations and the National Endowment for theHumanities.


01 Panourgiá 2003 the Stratigraphy of Dislocation Jerusalem C

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