Fes Forum, Day Four: The Memory of Andalusia: Development through Culture
June 11, 2013
Katherine Marshall reports on diversity and the Andalusian tradition at the fourth day of the 2013 Fes Forum in Morocco.
>>Version française
Speakers: Faouzi Skali, introduction; Katherine Marshall, summary of June 10 forum on development paradigms; panelists: Frédéric Fernay, moderator; Leili Anvar, Michael Barry, Ali Benmakhlouf, Henri Joyeux, Setsuko Klossowska de Rola, Salamatow Sow, Véronique Rieffel
“I look to the spirit of Andalusia to keep faith alive within ourselves, drawing both on its heaps of rubble and the hopes we must never let go.”
–Jacques Berque, Collège de France
The fourth and final day of the 2013 Fes Forum was dedicated to exploring the overall festival themes of diversity and love, and thus the question of what inspiration and lessons the eight-century epic history of Andalusia (from the eighth through the fifteenth century), might offer for contemporary world challenges.
The day began with a taste of Sufi music and poetry. The brief performances (continued as a final coda) were centered on love, and were performed by the Al-Firdaws group, with singer Ali Keeler. They highlighted the poetry of Abou Mediane Al-Ghawt. The musical interlude shone a light on the vital role that art and music play as the essence and core of the living legacy of Al-Andalus.
Challenged by moderator Frédéric Fernay to clarify the thinking behind the choice of the festival theme, linking the spirit and heritage of Fes and contemporary global challenges to Al-Andalus, Faouzi Skali answered by elaborating on the underlying narrative of the opening performance, Love is my Religion. Its theme is the intertwining of cultures and religious traditions in the memory and living legacy of Andalusia. The central messages that Skali highlighted were fourfold. The first and central theme is the wealth and impact of diversity. Second is the free exchange among cultural traditions that sparked extraordinary creativity. A third theme is the role of the spiritual and its force, inspired by remarkable evolutions in religious traditions and their openness, one to the other. Finally, a lesson from Al-Andalus is the spark that comes with openness to new ideas and ways of expression through art and intellect, whatever their origin.
This exchange and the discussions woven through the morning highlighted both the strong moral images that mark understandings of Al-Andalus, and the complex realities that lie behind them. What emerges is the deeply held belief in a shared heritage and the presence of an ideal, especially in Muslim communities and in the Maghreb (the most direct inheritor of the tradition). However, the very nature of the legacy and its significance are hotly contested and these realities are often obscured.
The myths are powerful and appealing. At one level, Al-Andalus is remembered as a paradise, a golden age of beauty, gardens, and libraries, an era of a brilliant civilization where poets and philosophers thrived. There, Berbers, Arabs, Visigoths, Jews, and Christians from many backgrounds lived together in harmony and something approaching equality; it was at the least a place where the poet could address the emir. The contrasting, less idealized images speak above all to complexity, not least because many centuries of history are involved. In contesting the romantic myths of an ideal society, underlying tensions enter the picture, important because they bequeathed harsh legacies that play out to this day (slavery and racism among them).
The discussion lingered long on the histories and legends that surround Al-Andalus. It took us far back into the earliest origins of conquests, the rise and fall of dynasties, and their links to faith, especially Islam. Medicine, law, and philosophy all have roots in Andalusia with enduring legacies to this day. The dynamism and openness of historical Islam, to other traditions but also to the full range of intellectual disciplines, cultural traditions, and approaches to core life issues, were contrasted with a rigidity that came much later and is today, for better or worse, linked to the Islamic faith. Ali Benmakhlouf, however, sharply objected to a common view that after the end of the Andalusian period Islam entered a phase of ossification. Though the texts were not translated into European languages, this does not mean that a ferment of debate and change was halted. People continued to eat, drink, and reflect.
Over the centuries of Al-Andalus, Islam took on growing importance both as the anchor of spirituality and the justification for power. Sufi traditions were a powerful influence, often ignored or distorted. Much Sufi music dates to the Andalusian period (nurtured and kept alive, especially in Fes). The legacy of Sufism reminds us how much we inherit from the Andalusian heritage, for example the special focus on grappling with the power of the ego, the constant search for meaning in love of God, and the enduring desire to encounter and engage with others. Above all the tradition is centered on the theme of love. These tendencies mark the Sufi approach to this day and they are the essence of dialogue and the secret of harmony.
Poetry also was a central theme. It was and remains a vital part of both spiritual and cultural traditions of Al-Andalus. The essence, Leili Anwar argued with passion, was the expression of love, including its raptures and torments, its spiritual and human nature. The finest traditions of poetry in ensuing centuries began with this civilization, and poetry in many ways found its finest expression in its dynamic culture. Looking to today, Anwar argued that if education denies or leaves aside poetry, the essence of learning and civilization is numbed and what it tells of identity and civilization itself is lost.
Music is another vital legacy. Often grounded in poetic visions, Andalusian music calmed agitated spirits, carrying forward the sense of mystery that is one vital legacy of the era.
The age saw tensions taking shape between mystery and realism, wisdom and law, belief and reinterpretation, art and reality. These themes are imperfectly interpreted and understood today as a tension between faith and reason, but their essence goes far deeper. Andalusian poetry reflected the powerful emotional currents that shaped the era’s history and culture. The theme of exile, its pain and longing, is a marked common thread woven through the arts of the Andalusian era. Véronique Reiffel spoke to the theme of the bride in her narrative about why this poetic era made such a lasting mark: the essence of spirituality is present in the images of successively removing the veils covering the bride, until her full essence and beauty are revealed. She drew on poetic expression that spoke to deep love, spiritual and material, a love that was so firm in its convictions that the poet could assert that even if the books were burned, what was inside would endure forever.
Michael Barry, with a tour de force of historical narrative, brought home the complexity of the true, lived history of the era. His central image was the remarkable story of the round table, a real and legendary table that, by routes clouded in mystery, came from Jerusalem to Toledo and became a powerful and mystical symbol of destiny, power, and spiritual hold. The surrounding legends gave rise to many powerful cultural myths, including King Arthur’s round table, the path of Sir Galahad, and the exploits of David and Solomon.
This is just one example showing how Al-Andalus saw a magical encounter of all medieval stories and legends. The lasting impact permeates through many cultures around the world. The real history of Al-Andalus thus stands in quite sharp contrast to the legends. But, Barry stressed, many of the most powerful legends and images that are part of our understandings today of identity and social realities derive from this period. Ideas and powerful images as well as songs and poems were conveyed by troubadours and in enduring stories, songs, monuments and interpretations. Even basic vocabulary and names that we use today have elaborate and often mysterious roots in the era.
The actual history of flesh and blood, however, carries with it deep tensions and many of these undercurrents also live on to this day. Dark histories of persecution, prejudice, emerging slavery, and racism are written in good measure in the history of the times. Barry stressed that the very notions of racism can be traced to the idea of pollution of bloodlines that were emerging at the time; a raza, which meant in essence a stain or taint (as in a blemish on a shirt), translated into the belief that certain races were permanently tarnished at the level of blood, beyond religion or any education. The notion and word became part of the emerging Spanish language of the era, then was carried along with Iberian conquerors and colonists into the Americas. The darkest facets of colonial experience, Barry contends, are Iberian, and the practice of slavery was carried forward through the complicity and connivance of Christians, Muslims, and Jews alike. But, he reminded us, if religious teachings and practices allowed cruel persecution, book burning (auto-da-fé), torture, rigid dogmatism, and slavery to spread across the world, religion also inspired the remarkably courageous and visionary stands of men like priests Antonio de Montesinos and Bartolomeo de las Casas, who stood against power, driven and inspired by the core principles of their faith.
Among the many fascinating reflections of Tuesday were explorations of the derivations of words, starting with Al-Andalus itself. Barry sees the word’s origins as the Arabic adoption of the Germanic Landeslaut, meaning land allotment, a piece of the legal and social history of the era. The word Spain, in contrast, came from a Vespasian term Ishban which became Ishbania, then Espana and Hispania. Family names have similarly contorted origins, including those of the very dynasties which are looked to as the shapers of destinies across the region. Religious terminology plays its part but also is commonly seen through a distorted lens. For example, memories of how conversions to Islam as the conquest and colonization took place over the centuries combine reality with myths. A fact often downplayed is that Arabic became the common language, not only of poetry and stories, but also of philosophy and histories, giving a tonality and flavor to the culture of the age and above all its legacies.
Al-Andalus, in legend and in history, dominated the discussion, but the Sufi traditions of the Maghreb and West Africa also entered the picture. They were and are carried by several historical strands, that include the nomadic peoples of the Sahelian region, and the Peul (who are the focus of Salamatou Sow’s research). The deep, lasting way in which culture marks faraway Japan also came into the discussion.
Culture is formed by many influences, and even where traditions seem immutable the forces of change are at work. Islamic teachings and practices blend in Peul culture to highlight wisdom. The importance of schools and education emerged from the forge. Traditions of welcome and hospitality are symbolized in the common call of salaam, the greeting of welcome in so many traditions and languages. The Tijaniyya tradition forges strong links between Morocco and the Sahel. No West African, argued Sow, would visit Fes without paying tribute to the brotherhood’s founder whose tomb is there. The great hawk with its commanding vision and range symbolizes the dynamism, power, and vision of these nomadic peoples. They carry a wisdom that is both esoteric and written, and practical and grounded in the earth that emerged from experience. This wisdom is a lasting legacy of the era when it was the energy of wandering people that conveyed culture and contributed a true diversity and breaking of barriers among far-flung peoples.
The trappings and essence of culture as a determinant of history is also part of the story of the Far East, and especially Japan and its encounters with other cultures. Japan at first sight stands in sharp contrast to the rich diversity and turbulence of Al-Andalus: a nation with a remarkably rich shared common culture, where traditions have lasted not for generations, but for centuries. For example, witness the enduring rituals of the tea ceremony, unchanged since the fifteenth century. Differences extend even to the use of the left and right brains, where the patterns are reversed between east and west. Sometimes it seems that east and west can never truly meet. However, the remarkable harmony we witnessed in Fes when Mongolian and Sardinian song blended in an extraordinarily rich harmony during their shared performance belies stark surface differences. It speaks to the possibility for synergy and appreciation even in the face of stark differences.
That analogy brought us back to the core festival theme of diversity, especially as it can be enhanced and enriched by the positive forces of love and spirit. Each culture has gifts to offer, in the case of Japan perhaps most remarkably the deep tradition of respect and the engrained, widespread love of beauty. We are, Setsuko Klossawaska de Rola reminded us, deeply tied to one another despite deep differences. Deep understanding and entering into the spirit of the other can help to bridge the divides.
Forum participants again entered eagerly into the discussion. One pointed out that practical lessons, contemporary examples, and ideas for future action were sparse in the discussion. Faouzi Skali brought some examples but acknowledged that such exploration is an integral part of the continuing work of the Spirit of Fes Foundation and must continue and expand. The lessons from Al-Andalus: its philosophy, theology, approaches to conflict, interreligious interactions, and artistic attainment will enrich that agenda as it moves ahead.
One topic was explored at some length, sometimes directly, sometimes more obliquely: the appeals of fundamentalism and Islamism and differing approaches to dissidence and diversity. This returned the discussion, sometimes abruptly, to the two-edged sword of tolerance and intolerance and links to authoritarian rule and totalitarianism that contrast so starkly to the ideals of openness and respect for others that Al-Andalus has come to represent, especially in myth. One person asked why the open and questioning spirit of Fes is not seen much in mosques, churches, and temples. In addressing the complex challenges involved, one person argued (and others echoed), that priority attention needs to go to the core desires and needs of people, which are education, health, dignity, and a true appreciation for culture. Without such a focus, the void will be filled by those who present extremist positions and ideas.
The final exchange elicited sobering reflections about the debts and legacies of Al-Andalus. These entail both miracles and inspiration, and things that should elicit from us horror and deep shame. We can, it was argued, learn much if we look to this special era with vision, imagination, and clarity, through its powerful legends and complex and diverse realities. But we also need to take into account the pain and shame. Both can enrich our understanding of contemporary ways of looking to diversity, of religions, cultures, arts, and approaches to the core challenges of life.
Perhaps the most passionate appeal of the morning was a call to build bridges of knowledge, because if we can know others, it will be harder to hate. The forum’s concluding moments spoke to a passionate call to respect knowledge and education. However great the temptation to throw up our hands, we must continue as there is much work to do.
We can take inspiration from the ancient Persian story of the fire that engulfed Abraham and the work of a small bee. That bee, seeing Abraham suffering in pain in the midst of the fire, carried water a drop at a time to put out the flames. Questioned about the futility of her efforts, she replied that she must do what she could, however small the impact, because not to act was shameful and unthinkable. So she continued her efforts. And, mystically and miraculously, the fire was transformed into a rose garden.
Other Daily Reports from Fes
day one | Contemporary Challenges for Diverse and Plural Societies
day two | Are Solidarity and Harmony Possible Through the World of Finance? day three | Bhutan's "Gross National Happiness" as a Development Paradigm?
–Jacques Berque, Collège de France
The fourth and final day of the 2013 Fes Forum was dedicated to exploring the overall festival themes of diversity and love, and thus the question of what inspiration and lessons the eight-century epic history of Andalusia (from the eighth through the fifteenth century), might offer for contemporary world challenges.
The day began with a taste of Sufi music and poetry. The brief performances (continued as a final coda) were centered on love, and were performed by the Al-Firdaws group, with singer Ali Keeler. They highlighted the poetry of Abou Mediane Al-Ghawt. The musical interlude shone a light on the vital role that art and music play as the essence and core of the living legacy of Al-Andalus.
Challenged by moderator Frédéric Fernay to clarify the thinking behind the choice of the festival theme, linking the spirit and heritage of Fes and contemporary global challenges to Al-Andalus, Faouzi Skali answered by elaborating on the underlying narrative of the opening performance, Love is my Religion. Its theme is the intertwining of cultures and religious traditions in the memory and living legacy of Andalusia. The central messages that Skali highlighted were fourfold. The first and central theme is the wealth and impact of diversity. Second is the free exchange among cultural traditions that sparked extraordinary creativity. A third theme is the role of the spiritual and its force, inspired by remarkable evolutions in religious traditions and their openness, one to the other. Finally, a lesson from Al-Andalus is the spark that comes with openness to new ideas and ways of expression through art and intellect, whatever their origin.
This exchange and the discussions woven through the morning highlighted both the strong moral images that mark understandings of Al-Andalus, and the complex realities that lie behind them. What emerges is the deeply held belief in a shared heritage and the presence of an ideal, especially in Muslim communities and in the Maghreb (the most direct inheritor of the tradition). However, the very nature of the legacy and its significance are hotly contested and these realities are often obscured.
The myths are powerful and appealing. At one level, Al-Andalus is remembered as a paradise, a golden age of beauty, gardens, and libraries, an era of a brilliant civilization where poets and philosophers thrived. There, Berbers, Arabs, Visigoths, Jews, and Christians from many backgrounds lived together in harmony and something approaching equality; it was at the least a place where the poet could address the emir. The contrasting, less idealized images speak above all to complexity, not least because many centuries of history are involved. In contesting the romantic myths of an ideal society, underlying tensions enter the picture, important because they bequeathed harsh legacies that play out to this day (slavery and racism among them).
The discussion lingered long on the histories and legends that surround Al-Andalus. It took us far back into the earliest origins of conquests, the rise and fall of dynasties, and their links to faith, especially Islam. Medicine, law, and philosophy all have roots in Andalusia with enduring legacies to this day. The dynamism and openness of historical Islam, to other traditions but also to the full range of intellectual disciplines, cultural traditions, and approaches to core life issues, were contrasted with a rigidity that came much later and is today, for better or worse, linked to the Islamic faith. Ali Benmakhlouf, however, sharply objected to a common view that after the end of the Andalusian period Islam entered a phase of ossification. Though the texts were not translated into European languages, this does not mean that a ferment of debate and change was halted. People continued to eat, drink, and reflect.
Over the centuries of Al-Andalus, Islam took on growing importance both as the anchor of spirituality and the justification for power. Sufi traditions were a powerful influence, often ignored or distorted. Much Sufi music dates to the Andalusian period (nurtured and kept alive, especially in Fes). The legacy of Sufism reminds us how much we inherit from the Andalusian heritage, for example the special focus on grappling with the power of the ego, the constant search for meaning in love of God, and the enduring desire to encounter and engage with others. Above all the tradition is centered on the theme of love. These tendencies mark the Sufi approach to this day and they are the essence of dialogue and the secret of harmony.
Poetry also was a central theme. It was and remains a vital part of both spiritual and cultural traditions of Al-Andalus. The essence, Leili Anwar argued with passion, was the expression of love, including its raptures and torments, its spiritual and human nature. The finest traditions of poetry in ensuing centuries began with this civilization, and poetry in many ways found its finest expression in its dynamic culture. Looking to today, Anwar argued that if education denies or leaves aside poetry, the essence of learning and civilization is numbed and what it tells of identity and civilization itself is lost.
Music is another vital legacy. Often grounded in poetic visions, Andalusian music calmed agitated spirits, carrying forward the sense of mystery that is one vital legacy of the era.
The age saw tensions taking shape between mystery and realism, wisdom and law, belief and reinterpretation, art and reality. These themes are imperfectly interpreted and understood today as a tension between faith and reason, but their essence goes far deeper. Andalusian poetry reflected the powerful emotional currents that shaped the era’s history and culture. The theme of exile, its pain and longing, is a marked common thread woven through the arts of the Andalusian era. Véronique Reiffel spoke to the theme of the bride in her narrative about why this poetic era made such a lasting mark: the essence of spirituality is present in the images of successively removing the veils covering the bride, until her full essence and beauty are revealed. She drew on poetic expression that spoke to deep love, spiritual and material, a love that was so firm in its convictions that the poet could assert that even if the books were burned, what was inside would endure forever.
Michael Barry, with a tour de force of historical narrative, brought home the complexity of the true, lived history of the era. His central image was the remarkable story of the round table, a real and legendary table that, by routes clouded in mystery, came from Jerusalem to Toledo and became a powerful and mystical symbol of destiny, power, and spiritual hold. The surrounding legends gave rise to many powerful cultural myths, including King Arthur’s round table, the path of Sir Galahad, and the exploits of David and Solomon.
This is just one example showing how Al-Andalus saw a magical encounter of all medieval stories and legends. The lasting impact permeates through many cultures around the world. The real history of Al-Andalus thus stands in quite sharp contrast to the legends. But, Barry stressed, many of the most powerful legends and images that are part of our understandings today of identity and social realities derive from this period. Ideas and powerful images as well as songs and poems were conveyed by troubadours and in enduring stories, songs, monuments and interpretations. Even basic vocabulary and names that we use today have elaborate and often mysterious roots in the era.
The actual history of flesh and blood, however, carries with it deep tensions and many of these undercurrents also live on to this day. Dark histories of persecution, prejudice, emerging slavery, and racism are written in good measure in the history of the times. Barry stressed that the very notions of racism can be traced to the idea of pollution of bloodlines that were emerging at the time; a raza, which meant in essence a stain or taint (as in a blemish on a shirt), translated into the belief that certain races were permanently tarnished at the level of blood, beyond religion or any education. The notion and word became part of the emerging Spanish language of the era, then was carried along with Iberian conquerors and colonists into the Americas. The darkest facets of colonial experience, Barry contends, are Iberian, and the practice of slavery was carried forward through the complicity and connivance of Christians, Muslims, and Jews alike. But, he reminded us, if religious teachings and practices allowed cruel persecution, book burning (auto-da-fé), torture, rigid dogmatism, and slavery to spread across the world, religion also inspired the remarkably courageous and visionary stands of men like priests Antonio de Montesinos and Bartolomeo de las Casas, who stood against power, driven and inspired by the core principles of their faith.
Among the many fascinating reflections of Tuesday were explorations of the derivations of words, starting with Al-Andalus itself. Barry sees the word’s origins as the Arabic adoption of the Germanic Landeslaut, meaning land allotment, a piece of the legal and social history of the era. The word Spain, in contrast, came from a Vespasian term Ishban which became Ishbania, then Espana and Hispania. Family names have similarly contorted origins, including those of the very dynasties which are looked to as the shapers of destinies across the region. Religious terminology plays its part but also is commonly seen through a distorted lens. For example, memories of how conversions to Islam as the conquest and colonization took place over the centuries combine reality with myths. A fact often downplayed is that Arabic became the common language, not only of poetry and stories, but also of philosophy and histories, giving a tonality and flavor to the culture of the age and above all its legacies.
Al-Andalus, in legend and in history, dominated the discussion, but the Sufi traditions of the Maghreb and West Africa also entered the picture. They were and are carried by several historical strands, that include the nomadic peoples of the Sahelian region, and the Peul (who are the focus of Salamatou Sow’s research). The deep, lasting way in which culture marks faraway Japan also came into the discussion.
Culture is formed by many influences, and even where traditions seem immutable the forces of change are at work. Islamic teachings and practices blend in Peul culture to highlight wisdom. The importance of schools and education emerged from the forge. Traditions of welcome and hospitality are symbolized in the common call of salaam, the greeting of welcome in so many traditions and languages. The Tijaniyya tradition forges strong links between Morocco and the Sahel. No West African, argued Sow, would visit Fes without paying tribute to the brotherhood’s founder whose tomb is there. The great hawk with its commanding vision and range symbolizes the dynamism, power, and vision of these nomadic peoples. They carry a wisdom that is both esoteric and written, and practical and grounded in the earth that emerged from experience. This wisdom is a lasting legacy of the era when it was the energy of wandering people that conveyed culture and contributed a true diversity and breaking of barriers among far-flung peoples.
The trappings and essence of culture as a determinant of history is also part of the story of the Far East, and especially Japan and its encounters with other cultures. Japan at first sight stands in sharp contrast to the rich diversity and turbulence of Al-Andalus: a nation with a remarkably rich shared common culture, where traditions have lasted not for generations, but for centuries. For example, witness the enduring rituals of the tea ceremony, unchanged since the fifteenth century. Differences extend even to the use of the left and right brains, where the patterns are reversed between east and west. Sometimes it seems that east and west can never truly meet. However, the remarkable harmony we witnessed in Fes when Mongolian and Sardinian song blended in an extraordinarily rich harmony during their shared performance belies stark surface differences. It speaks to the possibility for synergy and appreciation even in the face of stark differences.
That analogy brought us back to the core festival theme of diversity, especially as it can be enhanced and enriched by the positive forces of love and spirit. Each culture has gifts to offer, in the case of Japan perhaps most remarkably the deep tradition of respect and the engrained, widespread love of beauty. We are, Setsuko Klossawaska de Rola reminded us, deeply tied to one another despite deep differences. Deep understanding and entering into the spirit of the other can help to bridge the divides.
Forum participants again entered eagerly into the discussion. One pointed out that practical lessons, contemporary examples, and ideas for future action were sparse in the discussion. Faouzi Skali brought some examples but acknowledged that such exploration is an integral part of the continuing work of the Spirit of Fes Foundation and must continue and expand. The lessons from Al-Andalus: its philosophy, theology, approaches to conflict, interreligious interactions, and artistic attainment will enrich that agenda as it moves ahead.
One topic was explored at some length, sometimes directly, sometimes more obliquely: the appeals of fundamentalism and Islamism and differing approaches to dissidence and diversity. This returned the discussion, sometimes abruptly, to the two-edged sword of tolerance and intolerance and links to authoritarian rule and totalitarianism that contrast so starkly to the ideals of openness and respect for others that Al-Andalus has come to represent, especially in myth. One person asked why the open and questioning spirit of Fes is not seen much in mosques, churches, and temples. In addressing the complex challenges involved, one person argued (and others echoed), that priority attention needs to go to the core desires and needs of people, which are education, health, dignity, and a true appreciation for culture. Without such a focus, the void will be filled by those who present extremist positions and ideas.
The final exchange elicited sobering reflections about the debts and legacies of Al-Andalus. These entail both miracles and inspiration, and things that should elicit from us horror and deep shame. We can, it was argued, learn much if we look to this special era with vision, imagination, and clarity, through its powerful legends and complex and diverse realities. But we also need to take into account the pain and shame. Both can enrich our understanding of contemporary ways of looking to diversity, of religions, cultures, arts, and approaches to the core challenges of life.
Perhaps the most passionate appeal of the morning was a call to build bridges of knowledge, because if we can know others, it will be harder to hate. The forum’s concluding moments spoke to a passionate call to respect knowledge and education. However great the temptation to throw up our hands, we must continue as there is much work to do.
We can take inspiration from the ancient Persian story of the fire that engulfed Abraham and the work of a small bee. That bee, seeing Abraham suffering in pain in the midst of the fire, carried water a drop at a time to put out the flames. Questioned about the futility of her efforts, she replied that she must do what she could, however small the impact, because not to act was shameful and unthinkable. So she continued her efforts. And, mystically and miraculously, the fire was transformed into a rose garden.
Other Daily Reports from Fes
day one | Contemporary Challenges for Diverse and Plural Societies
day two | Are Solidarity and Harmony Possible Through the World of Finance? day three | Bhutan's "Gross National Happiness" as a Development Paradigm?
