14. De ce cred ca monarhia e acceptabila (da, in secolul XXI)

Pornesc de la idea ca vorbim, cu totii, despre un termen general numit (expresis verbis), ‘monarhie constitutionala’ [dar sa facem totusi diferenta intre variate forme ale acesteia: republica monarhica (‘crowned republic’, unde regele are un rol pur simbolic, vezi Marea Britanie ori Japonia), monarhia constitutionala propriu-zisa (unde puterile regelui sunt drastic limitate) si monarhia electiva, unde monarhul poate avea puteri sporite dar este ales de un anumit corp electoral (Vatican, Malaezia, Cambogia)]. Mai pornesc de la idea ca in astfel de monarhii, uneori greu de deosebit intre ele, ‘regele domneste dar nu guverneaza’ (Vernon Bogdanor). Ce inseamna acest lucru? Ei bine, inseamna ca regele are o calitate pur reprezentativa si nu o putere executiva, legislativa, sau juridica (ori in cel mai bun caz o putere executiva limitata drastic de constitutie sau de cadrul juridic). Un astfel de rege are o putere infinit mai mica decat o are presedintele unei republici prezidentiale (vezi Statele Unite, unde Presedintele este si seful guvernului) sau Primul Ministru al unei republici executive unde acesta din urma detine puterea executiva si, indirect, in anumite cazuri, detine chiar puterea legislativa datorita incidentei votului super-majoritar (vezi Ungaria). In Ungaria, mai mult, presedintele nici macar nu este ales de cetateni, ci desemnat de catre parlament. El are in general o functie ceremoniala (‘figurehead’) si conform Constitutiei Ungariei ‘nu poate exercita un rol sau o misiune publica, politica, economica sau sociala’ in timp ce-si exercita functia. [Art. 12(2)].

Lasand pentru moment la o parte idea unui post public obtinut mai mult sau mai putin ereditar (vezi si the House of Lords, camera superioara a Parlamentului Britanic), monarhiile de care vorbesc mai sus (si in special o ‘crowned republic’) nu se deosebesc cu nimic de idea unei presedintii cu rol pur simbolic-reprezentativ, precum in Ungaria. Cred ca exista insa o diferenta importanta si extrem de mare, iar aceasta este una de ordin cultural: in anumite tari, monarhia este privita ca un remarcabil simbol national (vezi cazul Marii Britanii, fie si dupa decapitarea lui Charles I). Cu alte cuvinte, in anumite state, rolul monarhiei este considerat nu doar unul istoric, ci si simbolic, reprezentativ pentru parcursul temporal si cultural al acestor tari. In asemenea conditii, optiunea pentru o monarhie constitutionala, in una din formele pe care le poate adopta aceasta institutie, nu este una deloc absurda ori retrograda, ci dimpotriva una aceptabila in secolul XXI si rational justificata. Ne convine sau nu, suntem o specie animala pentru care simbolurile sunt esentiale.

Cat despre caracterul ereditar, exista doua chestiuni de discutat aici: una practica si alta teoretica. Practic, ne-am putem astepta ca aceasta functie reprezentativa ereditara sa fie exercita de o persoana fara scrupule, imorala, care ar aduce deservicii de imagine cetatenilor reprezentati. Posibilitatea este mai curand nula, intrucat fiecare Casa Regala (vezi monarhia britanica, de pilda) are un set de principii morale si de conduita care poate fi folosit in sens larg pentru a exclude o asemenea persoana (vezi si cazul lui Carol al II-lea in Romania interbelica). Teoretic, punem spune ca fie si o functie pur reprezentativa ar trebui sa fie supusa votului, si nu oferita ereditar. Acesta e un argument forte, insa exista cateva nuante. In primul rand, votul democratic poate avea si consecinte dezastruoase (Hitler a ajuns la putere datorita mecanismului electoral). In al doilea rand, existenta unei demnitati publice aflate deasupra jocului politic murdar si neavandu-si existenta legata de jocul politic poate fi o garantie si poate exercita o presiune morala (atat nationala cat si internationala) asupra politicului. In al treilea rand, sa nu uitam ca o asemenea functie nu este usor de indeplinit: exista o suma de restrictii personale – atat de dure, incat multi regi (de pilda in Romania sau Marea Britanie) au preferat sa renunte la aceasta demnitate publica.

Pastrand proportiile, hai sa facem o paralela simpla. Unii dintre noi pastreaza un obiect care se confunda cu istoria indelungata a familiilor noastre. Poate e vorba de o fotografie, de un ceas sau de un briceag al stra-strabunicului, sau despre inelul de casatorie al stra-strabunicii. Le pastram in forma buna si/sau in functiune (si cheltuim ceva pentru asta). Le pastram intrucat dorim cu ardoare sa transmitem aceste obiecte (asa cum au facut parintii si bunicii nostri), chiar daca nu au o valoare materiala substantiala, copiilor nostri atunci cand vor avea varsta necesara pentru a le aprecia drept obiecte care povestesc o istorie: istoria noastra personala si a familiei noastre. Pentru noi sunt obiecte care povestesc despre o forma de continuitate, respect, devotament, incredere, si mai ales dragoste. Si ne-ar parea rau ca propriii nostrii fii sau fiice, nepoti sau nepoate, sa-si bata joc de acest simbol pretuit de inaintasii nostri, de familia noastra, pret de generatii. Ne-ar parea rau sa le arunce la gunoi sau sa le amaneteze. Ii vom ierta daca vor face asta, dar inimile noastre vor fi frante. Cred ca e la fel si cu simbolurile culturale sau politice. E la fel si cu institutia monarhica, iar asta o spune nu doar un om de centru-stanga, dar si un om care este, dintr-o anumita perspectiva, un (fel de) monarhist.

New published article

Read my new article in political theory published by ‘Studia Politica’ and entitled ‘Taking Temporary Workers’ Rights Seriously: Agency and Consent’ here.

My new article in ‘Ethnic and Racial Studies’ is online!

My article ‘No Land’s Man: Irregular Migrants’ Challenge to Immigration control and Membership Policies’ has been published online on 29 October 2014! Enjoy!

2013 in review

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2013 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

The concert hall at the Sydney Opera House holds 2,700 people. This blog was viewed about 45,000 times in 2013. If it were a concert at Sydney Opera House, it would take about 17 sold-out performances for that many people to see it.

Click here to see the complete report.

La multi ani, Helga!

Helga implineste astazi 12 ani. Cind a trecut atita timp? Multi ani, draga mea! Si sa fii la fel de sanatoasa ca intotdeauna! Mai multe fotografii aici si aici.

Vara vrajbei noastre

Nu stiu cind si cum am ajuns aici. De fapt, probabil totul a inceput atunci cind s-a schimbat majoritatea parlamentara iar guvernarea a fost preluata de fosta opozitie. E o explicatie plauzibila, dar seaca. Ne spune ‘cind’, dar nu si ‘cum’. Chestiunea este, cred, una mult mai profunda. In aceste zile (din pacate ar trebui sa spun: ‘in aceste luni’), majoritatea cunoscutilor mei s-a impartit in doua tabere: in ‘uselisti’ si in ‘basisti’. Nu ar fi ceva neobisnuit, daca nu ar exista aceasta ura crunta intre combatanti. O ura cum nu am mai vazut sa nasca interesul politic inca din iunie 1990. Atunci, ziarele vuiau despre cazuri in care familii intregi se desparteau din cauza partizanatelor politice. Acum nu am ajuns chiar acolo. Nu inca.

Nu blamez, spre deosebire de altii, clasa politica pentru aceasta ura de proportii colosale. Nu politicienii ne-au adus aici, din nefericire sintem singurii vinovati pentru ura in care colcaim. Uneori simt atractia nedemocratica fata de sentimentul avut atunci, in 1996, cind o larga majoritate a trimis comunistii la culcare. Aveam 18 ani, imi cumparesem din timp sampania, am deschis-o si am ciocnit paharul cu bunicii mei, apoi am iesit pe strada. In afara citorva nemernici de virsta mijlocie, bunici si nepoti am fost trup si suflet alaturi de ‘victoria democratiei’. Nu imi amintesc nici macar un singur amic sa fi avut atunci alta parere. Eram o singura voce, un singur trup. Atunci cistigaseram: cistigaseram ‘noi’. Si ‘noi’ eram toti.

Cum s-au schimbat atit de radical lucrurile, nu pot sa-mi explic. Cauzele sint atit de multe, incit nici nu merita sa numesc una fara a face o defavoare alteia. Pur si simplu, noi ne-am schimbat. Acum nu mai iesim in strada cu o sticla de sampanie, ci ne anuntam bucuria pe Facebook. Mai rau, acum nu mai sintem ‘noi toti’: acum ne-am impartit in doua tabere si ne injuram. Personal am ales o cale care mi s-a parut mai buna: echidistanta moderata, intrerupta de partizanate minimale bazate pe alegeri clare, concretizate intr-un vot pro sau contra, si atit. Dezastrul alegerii mele nu s-a lasat asteptat.

Cind am sustinut fara rezerve sentinta in cazul lui Nastase, un amic pe Facebook (si nu doar un simplu cunoscut, din nefericire) m-a acuzat pe fata ca as fi ‘basist’. Am ramas uimit, si am lasat discutia balta – nu numai pentru ca nu am inteles o asemenea catalogare, dar si pentru ca am ramas cu un gust amar: omul asta nu ma va mai considera la fel de acum incolo, probabil ceva intre noi s-a rupt iremediabil. Mai tirziu, cind am sustinut fara rezerve referendumul impotriva lui Basescu, am fost acuzat de amici ca sint ‘uselist’. Am incercat sa explic de ce nu sint sub nici o forma ‘uselist’, dar m-am ales cu etichete trimitind la maladii psihice. Mai mult, mi s-au sugerat in mod prietenos chiar si bolile de care as putea suferi. Cel care a spus asta era un necunoscut pentru mine. Prietenul meu, pe al carui ‘wall’ am fost astfel injurat, a preferat sa nu ejecteze imediat respectivul din lista sa. Nici macar un avertisment nu a fost dat. Ne urim in mod direct, e vara vrajbei noastre si trecutul care ne leaga e doar trecut, da-l dracului.

Tot acest prieten al meu (caci imi este prieten, chiar daca nu l-am vazut de mult timp din cauza distantei, si tin la el nu mai putin decit tineam cind ne vedeam) mi-a spus, textual, ca echidistanta mea nu valoreaza nimic: ‘nu pledez pentru echidistanta. A juca rolul echidistantului intr-o perioada de criza este, din punctul meu de vedere, blamabil. Indica raul! Cu probe, fapte, argumente. Si, da, daca asta inseamna sa aperi o tabara fa si asta’. Inteleg, deci, ca in perioadele de criza ori esti partizan (intelegind prin asta partizanul ‘binelui’ asa cum il vede o anumita tabara), ori esti ‘blamabil’, ca sustinator al ‘raului’. Pentru ca sint (sau incerc sa fiu) echidistant, prietenul meu ma considera un reprezentant al raului.

Sintem in plin razboi in aceasta vara a vrajbei noastre. Mai mult, daca incerci sa pastrezi o minima echidistanta si critici cu argumente si o tabara, si alta, atunci te supui tirului ambelor tabere: esti cel mai rau, pentru ca nu esti cu nimeni. Iar cind totusi am hotarit sa votez, din motive pur personale, mi s-a aruncat in fata faptul ca votul meu nu conteaza, ca am votat intr-un referendum ilegal. Deci nici decizia democratica a masei alegatorilor nu conteaza, ca nu trebuiau dracului intrebati. De ce ar fi alegatorii intrebati! Si de ce sa suspendam un presedinte pe care majoritatea alegatorilor nu-l mai vor! Bine ca au stat alegatorii nostrii acasa, ce buna chichita legala am gasit, iata cum am cistigat!

Cel mai rau este ca o asemenea situatie va continua. In cazul in care Curtea Constitutionala va invalida referendumul, ne asteapta doi ani nu doar de lupte politice, ci si de ura continua, o ura afisata peste tot, de la intilniri pina la retelele de socializare. Nu stiu si imi e teama de cum vom iesi din aceasta perioada. Vom putrezi cu siguranta mai mult decit am putrezit. Ne vom insingura mai mult decit ne-am insingurat. Si nici macar nu vom intelege cum am ajuns intr-un asemenea stadiu.

Eu unul nu vreau sa ajung acolo. Imi iubesc prietenii. Si imi iubesc sanatatea mentala care mi-a mai ramas.

How breeders and judges destroyed the unique Chow-Chow

1. Introduction

In 2008 the BBC documentary Pedigree Dogs Exposed (director: Jemima Harrison) [torrent it or watch online the full movie for free here; read the blog ‘Pedigree Dogs Exposed’ here] blew up the entire dog world: in just 60 minutes it demonstrated how the breeders were destroying most of the breeds, by breeding dogs with excessive physiological features while paying no attention to behavioral issues and – which is even more outrageous – to health problems. Over the last hundred years, the breeds underwent dramatic physical and temperamental changes and these changes were detrimental to almost every breed. As a consequence,  it is not only that champion dogs who win lots of titles in dog shows (especially Crufts) are not capable anymore to do the job they were originally designed to do (hunting, tracing, protection, etc.); but also these champions are full of health problems and, by being extensively bred (or maybe better said: inbred), they pass on these problems to their offspring.  This results not only in owners’ spending huge amounts of money on vet fees, but also in breeds falling apart. To make things worse, the officialdom (breeders, judges, the Kennel Club) are simply denying what is happening, in spite of protests from dog owners, dog press representatives and veterinarian and animal welfare organizations.

The reaction to this movie was widespread and dramatic. The BBC, the RSPCA (the Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals), Dog Trust, Hill’s Pet Nutrition and Pedigree Petfoods (a major sponsor for the last 44 years) have since pulled out of Crufts (the biggest Kennel Club’s show) (source1; source2). The Kennel Club also took into account changing some breed standards and decided to establish health checks for Cruft entrants – but this was considered to be ‘too little too late’ (source). Finally, the Kennel Club issued a list of ‘high profile breeds’ (the concept being defined as ‘[a] breed from time to time designated by the General Committee as requiring particular monitoring by reason of visible conditions(s) which may cause health or welfare concerns’). The Chow Chow is on this list. How did we get here? This post is meant to answer this question and to warn that if nothing is done, we will lose this wonderful breed.

2. The original and the actual Chow: two different breeds?

Take a look at the two images below and try to guess which breed these dogs belong to. If you’re a dog lover, you may correctly say that the second photograph shows a typical chow-chow – but you may be puzzled regarding the first picture. It looks like a Spitz-type, so… could it be a Giant German Spitz, a Wolfspitz, a Keeshond, an Eurasier or maybe an ancestor of the Volpino Italiano? This time your answer is wrong. It’s a Chow-Chow as well – and again, a typical one. The only difference is one hundred years between the two: the first was shot in 1911; the second represents an actual Chow.

    

(source of the first picture; source of the second picture)

I’m already hearing you saying something like: ‘You must be joking’, or at least ‘You must be making a mistake’. So let’s try it again. Look at the couple of pictures below: don’t worry about guessing anymore, I can tell you that you’re looking at two typical Chows: the first is a champion and the image dates from 1910, while the second is a dog from our days.

    

(same sources of pictures as before)

It seems that the only common elements of the two very different types of Chow are the blue tongue, the straight back legs, the tail carried over back and forward-tilting ears. Everything else is different. So what happened?

3. A bit of recent history

In order to answer this question, we should take a look at this dog’s Western history. According to the American Kennel Club’s website, the Chow arrived in Europe around 1880 (other sources say 1780, as documented here), and the first speciality club was formed in the UK in 1895. The first exhibition of the breed in the USA took place in 1890. Since we know that this breed is an ancient one, and one of the few which were not designed by humans, we may confidently assume that the first Chows which landed on the European soil looked pretty much as their ancestors did two thousand years before (as the pottery figures from the Han dynasty around 200 BC show us – source). Fortunately, we have some pictures which document the way a typical Chow looked like when they arrived in the Western world.

The first standard of the breed was based on Chow VIII (first picture below), which was born in 1895. Another similar-looking dog was Blue Blood, born in 1893 (or, according to other sources, in 1892), who later became a Champion. In both pictures we can see the general characteristics of the first Chows that stepped on the European soil: the sharp, fox-like muzzle; the clear and visible oriental eyes; the thin bones; fairly long legs; and the lighter constitution of their bodies, compared to actual Chows.

    

[first picture above: Chow VIII (born 1895; photo from 1903; source); second picture above:  Champion Blue Blood (born 1893; source)]

However, in less than sixty years the breed underwent dramatic changes, so much so that it is hard to recognize in the picture below, depicting Chapion Astom (born in 1951), the specific traits of his ‘colonial’ ancestors; Astom had shorter legs, shorter neck, thicker bones, broader and thicker muzzle which did not resemble that of a fox anymore, wrinkled skin, smaller oriental eyes lost in the compressed face and coat in abundance.

Champion Astom (born 1951; source)

Unfortunately the development of the breed since Astom did not bring any improvement, quite the contrary. Looking to the present-day Chow-Chow, one could hardly guess that this is a Spitz breed. Indeed, from a fox-like appearance, as we can clearly see in the pictures taken at the end of the 19^th century and the beginning of the 20^th century, the Chow was transformed in a ‘lion-like’, or ‘bear-like’ creature. Very tellingly, this transformation is written in the actual breed standard (updated on October 2009), which is supposed to illustrate the ideal dog of this breed and which says that the Chow is ‘leonine in appearance’ and its muzzle must be ‘moderate in length, broad from eyes to end (not pointed at end like a fox)’ (see the standard on the Kennel Club’s webpage).

4. The Chow in great people’s time

Great personalities owed and even bred Chow-Chows, and thanks to them we have good testimonies about the physical and psychical characteristics of this breed. Sigmund Freud is known not only for making his favourite chow-chow, Jo-Fi, attend all of his therapy sessions (because he thought that ‘dogs had a special sense that allows them to judge a person’s character accurately’ – source) but also for his loyalty to his dogs. After his flight from Vienna because of fear of the Nazis he went to London and there his chow was quarantined for six months. Freud, whose health was declining, visited his chow as often as he could (source). Below you can watch two pictures with Freud’s chows, both of them being shot probably in the 1930s (Freud died in September 1939); you can also watch a short video of Freud in which his Chow appears as well here. As you can easily observe, these chows looked pretty much as the first ones that came in Europe.

    

Sigmund Freud and some of his Chows; source of the first picture; source of the second picture

Konrad Lorenz, the founder of modern ethology and the 1973 Nobel Prize winner was also a Chow-Chow lover and breeder. In 1949, ten years after Freud’s death and two years before Champion Astom’s birth he published a wonderful book titled Man Meets Dog. It may be that an image worth one thousand words, but sometimes a few words are more telling than an image as well. If the pictures with Freud and his dogs show us how the Chow-Chow looked like in the 1930s, then Lorenz’s paragraph from Man Meets Dog represent a grieved but accurate testimony of the decade when the breed started to change dramatically:

‘As I have already intimated, it would be quite possible for breeders to compromise in the choice of physical and mental properties, and this contention has been proved by the fact that various pure breeds of dog did retain their original good character traits until they fell a prey to fashion. Nevertheless dog shows in themselves involve certain dangers, since competition between pedigree dogs at shows must automatically lead to an exaggeration of all those points which characterize a breed. If one looks at old pictures which, in the case of English dog-breeds, can be found dating back to the middle ages, and compares them with pictures of present-day representatives of the same breeds, the latter look like evil caricatures of the original strain. In the Chow, which has only become really fashionable in the course of the last twenty years, this is particularly noticeable. In about 1920, Chows were still natural dogs, closely allied to the wild form, whose pointed muzzles, obliquely set Mongolian eyes and pricked ears pointing sharply upwards lent to their faces that fascinating expression which distinguishes Greenland sledge-dogs, Samoyeds and Huskies, in short all strongly wolf-blooded dogs. Modern breeding of the Chow has led to an exaggeration of those points which gives him the appearance of a plump bear: the muzzle is wide and short almost mastiff-like, the eyes have lost their slant in the compression of the whole face, and the ears have almost disappeared in the overgrown thickness of the coat. Mentally, too, these temperamental creatures, which still bore a trace of the wild beast of prey, have become stodgy teddy bears. But not my breed of Chows.’ (Konrad Lorenz, Man Meets Dog, Routledge: London and New York, 2005, pp. 86-87)

5. Health issues

Obviously, this transformation came together with an enormous amount of health problems. The old pictures depict a very active and alert dog, while present-day Chows are rather lazy – should I say ‘lethargic’? I have seen many Chows in shows that could barely move because of their short legs, abundant coat and breathing problems (in some cases, even their capacity of mating is affected). In a commentary to the breed standard Sheila Jakeman, a well-known British breeder and judge, acknowledged the problem and declared that ‘Any Chow should be able to walk the length and breadth of any show ring easily and so prove that it is active’ (see Sheila Jakeman, ‘The Standard; why a Chow is so special’, in Janneke Leunissen-Rooseboom, Anne Russell and Bas Bosch (eds.), The World of Chows in 2001 and 2002,BB Press, p. 18; link). This strikes me dearly: if all that is needed for being declared as ‘active’ is to be able to walk for only five minutes in the show ring without any apparent difficulty, then this is rather a death sentence than an effort to solve breed’s health issues.

Interestingly enough, the same author is calling for an ‘square short backed animal’ – but if we take into account the appearance of the original Chow (which is not necessarily square, as documented in both ancient pottery and old photos), this aim that most of the breeders, if not all, are striving to accomplish is rather a fashion requirement and not a step forward in improving the quality of the breed.

Breathing problems seem to be linked to the broader and thicker muzzle covered with wrinkled skin; and the latter, together with the trend toward ever more slanting eyes, also cause eye problems, especially entropion. True, the standard was changed in 1991 in order to push breeders to produce larger eyes, but any visit to a show ring will reveal that actually there is no fundamental change in practice. And even if the incidence of wrinkles has decreased in the last years, health problems did not disappear – only those… responsible for them seem to have changed: to quote again Sheila Jakeman, ‘Humid airless days can still cause a problem if owners [?! my italics] are careless’ (p. 20).

Frightening trends, as Jakeman herself acknowledges, include an ultra short rib from front to rear, which ‘means the protective cavity is being shortened and therefore… vital organs are at risk of being compressed’. Further, ligament problems are caused by the fact that puppies are ‘very heavy at a very young age’. And we can always fear arthritis, hip dysplasia and other bone diseases, major histocompatibility complex (MHC), and stomach cancer. Finally – and this is an issue too many Chow owners are confronted with, myself included – skin problems can be extremely annoying. The unexperienced prospective Chow owner is told by breeders, various books and internet sites that the Chow-Chow is one of the few breeds that do not have the specific ‘doggy smell’ – or, at the worst, that this breed is a ‘low-odour one’. This should be true, but the rather high incidence of skin problems (ranging from abundant dandruff to hot spots) often transform the non-stinky Chow in an awfully smelling creature.

Finally, the temperament of the Chow became in time quite disturbing. To be sure, aloofness is a celebrated trait of this breed – but exaggerated shyness is not its synonym. I have met very few Chows who are not frightened or even aggressive when a stranger in the park tries to pet them. Of course, the owner is often responsible for his or her dog’s lack of proper socialization; however, no person that really knows the Chow could honestly deny the fact that this is a problem the breed in general has.

6. A personal note and some disclaimers

I am neither a specialist in dogs or Chow-Chow, nor a member of the Chow community, worldwide or in my country. My theoretical and practical experience is rather limited and it is strictly related to the dogs I love, the shows I attended to and the books I read. In 2001 I bought my first Chow, Helga (pedigree name: Arizonai Almodozok Faviola), a black female, from a rather obscure Hungarian breeder (I didn’t know at that time anything about the world of breeders, dog shows or puppy mills). I guess it is only a matter of luck that, except for some excess of dandruff (which becomes more abundant and annoying at shedding times) she never had any health problem and is still a very active dog at the age of almost 11. However, although she won some good titles in dog shows from international judges, she is not a dog fit for the champion title if we take into account the actual standard.

   

1911-2011: The Chow-Chow is breaking apart – source of the first picture; source of the second picture.

On the other hand my second chow, a red female named Olga (pedigree name: Chaitan Legend Chow Charisma), purchased in 2002 from the self-titled ‘best Chow-Chow Kennel in Romania’ quickly became Romanian Junior Champion. However, soon afterwards (at a very young age, before turning two) she was diagnosed with chronic arthritis, skin problems, and pododermatitis (which gave her pains when walking on concrete and made her paws bleed in winter). Add to this serious breathing problems and difficulties in movement. My intention when I purchased her was to breed her and start a kennel – but after I discovered all her health problems I decided to spay her. I tried to explain the breeder that her parents should not be bred anymore, but the only answers I received were rather sarcastic. After this experience and after finding more and more information about the way dog breeds are ‘falling apart’, as one interviewee in ‘Pedigree Dogs Exposed’ said, I had decided not to take part in this and stopped showing. Olga died last year just before turning eight years old.

So because of my limited and subjective experience I do not claim that what I have written here is the absolute truth. I do not have monopoly over the truth, but I am personally convinced that if quick steps are not taken to save the breed, the Chow-Chow is doomed. I do not believe it is too late: I have seen once a non-pedigree Chow which to my astonishment still resembled the original ones – of course, it did not have any chance in the show ring. Maybe there are others: I would be glad, because this would be my only chance to have another Chow. I am in love with this breed – but I would never buy another dog born to Champion parents.

Finally, and most importantly, I dedicate this article to the memory of Olga. She taught me many things, and this article shows that she did not died in vain. Sleep well, my little one. The pain is gone now.

Recomand cu drag si multa placere!

Statues and kids

Passau, end of winter 2011

Bamberg, end of summer 2011

Piatra Neamt, summer 2008

 

Cuvinte defaimatoare, tacere academica

Ieri, Academia Romana a acceptat cererea unor organizatii non-guvernamentale, hotarind sa modifice in DEX definitiile a doua cuvinte, ‘tigan’ si ‘jidan’, in sensul ca noua editie a dictionarului va consemna ‘caracterul peiorativ’ al acestor termeni (sursa). Cred ca usurinta dovedita de sus-numita institutie in tratarea problemei ridicate tradeaza mai mult teama fata de urmarile juridice ale unui posibil refuz (ONG-urile respective au amenintat cu actionarea Academiei in justitie intr-un asemenea caz) decit o judecata bazata pe argumente academice.

Conjectura de mai sus nu vrea sa spuna mai mult decit ceea ce exprima deschis. Personal nu am o opinie ferma in aceasta privinta: pe de o parte, nu sint un adept al schingiuirii unei limbi pe baza unor motive care tin de corectitudinea politica; pe de alta parte, nu pot sa nu recunosc covirsitoarea putere a unui cuvint – o putere care, folosita in scopuri imorale, poate avea consecinte catastrofale.

As fi dorit insa o dezbatere cu adevarat academica pe marginea acestui subiect. Pe de o parte, beneficiile unei asemenea schimbari par evidente: in primul rind, daca anumite cuvinte au un sens oficial recunoscut drept peiorativ, defaimator si discriminatoriu, se blocheaza posibilitatea folosirii lor in limbajul politic si administrativ. Pe de alta parte, orice individ care foloseste in mod public asemenea cuvinte poate fi actionat in judecata pentru defaimare. Ambele cazuri sint menite sa creasca nivelul de securitate al membrilor grupurilor desemnate de termenii respectivi prin inlaturarea discriminarii directe din discursul public.

Doresc insa sa ridic citeva probleme care ar fi meritat discutate. Sa luam termenul „tigan”: este el cu adevarat defaimator? Depinde: orice om obisnuit cu nuantele va accepta ca termenul are un caracter peiorativ redus fata de (iau doar un alt exemplu) „cioara” sau „cioroi”, insa este totusi defaimator fata de „rom”. Cine insa decide sensul negativ si care sint standardele dupa care este el recunoscut? De exemplu, in zona socrilor mei nu se foloseste nici termenul „tigan” si nici cel de „rom” pentru a desemna o persoana din etnia respectiva, ci (de multe ori lingvistic inadecvat) „şătrar / şătrăriţă”. Sint asemenea termeni defaimatori? La o prima ascultare am putea fi inclinati sa raspundem pozitiv, insa stiintific ar fi sa cercetam mai indeaproape contextul vorbirii, modul in care oamenii din zona respectiva folosesc acest cuvint, si abia apoi sa decidem daca are el un sens pozitiv sau negativ. Sau cel putin asa ne-ar fi cerut Wittgenstein. Iar daca hotarim ca sensul este negativ, probabil cuvintul „şatră”, din care prima notiune este derivata, este si el defaimator? Atunci orice traducator al filmului Tabor ukhodit v nebo (mai cunoscut la noi sub titlurile „Şatra”, „Vremea tiganilor”, sau „Şatra merge spre cer”) ar putea fi acuzat de discriminare. Sau, cum spunea cineva la o emisiune TV, e de vazut ce se va intimpla cu titlul „Tiganiadei” lui Ion Budai-Deleanu. Iar cintecele tiganesti sau romantele Allei Bayanova ar trebui „curăţate” de termenul considerat defaimator, care apare relativ des in versurile melodiilor sale.Si ma intreb (luind in discutie celalalt termen considerat defaimator) daca vom mai putea vorbi in public despre parabola lui Ahasverus, „jidovul ratacitor” – caci „evreul ratacitor” suna aproape barbar.

Chestiunea este complicata de faptul ca unul si acelasi termen poate fi folosit, in functie de context, atit in sens pozitiv (laudativ) cit si negativ (defaimator). De pilda, in cercul cunoscutilor mei expresia „la voi e ca la tigani” are evident un caracter negativ – dar sintagma „muzica tiganeasca” (vezi aici sau aici), folosita in primul rind pentru a deosebi acest gen de muzica manelistilor, are un pronuntat caracter pozitiv, in sensul ca adevarata muzica tiganeasca, simbolul prin excelenta al culturii rome, are o valoare mult superioara manelelor, ultimele fiind etichetate gresit drept „melodii tiganesti”.

Nu in ultimul rind, a fost eludata complet problema caracterului pur sociologic si istoric al sensului defaimator al unui termen. Sa nu uitam ca unii tigani se autodefinesc astfel, respingind in acelasi timp denominatia „rom”; a le aplica o eticheta straina, chiar daca argumentele politice si academice sint de partea acesteia din urma, s-ar reduce la impunerea deloc respectabila a intereselor unui grup elitist asupra altor grupuri sociale. Mai mult, sa nu uitam ca atit termenul de „tigan” cit si cel de de „jidan” difera in intensitatea caracterului pozitiv sau negativ de-a lungul timpului: bunicii mei, de pilda, foloseau cuvintul „jidan” fara nici o conotatie negativa, iar vecinii lor, evrei sadea, spuneau deseori „la noi, la ovrei….” sau „la noi, la jidani…”.

In final, poate ar trebui sa vedem daca nu cumva o asemenea modificare a definitiilor din DEX ar putea face mai mult rau decit bine. Atitudinile extremiste si discriminatoare, departe de a fi stavilite prin asemenea actiuni, pot cunoaste o noua resurgenţă. Si ar fi pacat.

Evident, cele spuse mai sus nu trebuie vazute ca inclinind balanta spre o rezolvare aspecifica a situatiei date. Am incercat sa ridic unele probleme care nu au aparut, sau au aparut doar tangential, in dezbaterea publica din Romania. Cam singura dezbatere, de altfel, intrucit cea academica a lipsit cu desavirsire.