The Arab Ear and the American Eye: A Study of the Role of the Senses in Culture

Every field of knowledge has issues and problems that are appropriate to it. The issue, which I shall be addressing in this research, is of the type that usually engages anthropologists, but it has also been addressed by folklorists, sociologists, and others concerned with the social sciences.

Anthropologists see their function as the understanding of other cultures, the translation of the spirit of the cultures they study, and the transfer of the way indigenous peoples see their world and culture to the anthropologist's own world and culture. But there is always an anxiety—and therefore some contention—concerning the degree of truthfulness of what they transfer to their own culture: to what extent do anthropologists actually transfer another culture without imposing on it their own cultural perceptions?

Let us take an example. Every language is a part, or offspring, of a culture. It came into being so that members of that culture can communicate in terms of concepts and understandings appropriate to their culture. Is it therefore possible to speak of another culture in our own language? And when we do so, does that culture remain itself, or do we in the process recast it in terms of concepts appropriate to our own culture?

Let us take another example. Do the modern sciences that came into being in the West represent absolute truths or are they just expressions of modern Western culture? And when we try to arrive at an understanding of another society or culture by reference to modern Western social science, are we then not recasting it in the conceptual terms of these sciences?

The question I am addressing here is of the type dealt with by students of human culture, especially those among them who are concerned with subjects that are relevant to different cultures. We can reformulate the question as follows: Living human beings must interact with the environment in order to survive; otherwise, we would not be able to survive. Human perception of the environment takes place through the agency of the senses, which receive impressions from the environment. There is no other access to the environment except through the senses. Therefore, human beings' perception of the environment, their understanding of it, and their interactions with it depend on the five senses. So culture is the sum total of the ways humans learn to interact with the environment in order to survive. But these do not depend on the senses in equal measure, and different cultures do not utilize each of the senses to the same degree, for cultures may differ in their reliance on any particular sense. It is said, for example, that Western culture prefers the sense of sight to the other senses. The dependence of this culture on sight may reach such an extent that information available to other senses, such as touch or smell, may be ignored in favor of the sense of sight.

These considerations do not apply solely to ordinary individuals in daily life, but also to the student and the researcher, including the anthropologist, from whom we expect an understanding of the cultures s/he brings to the attention of the Western world. If it is true that the Western person depends principally on sight, then the picture that anthropologists and other students of the Orient draw, for example, of Arab culture is bound to be doubly distorted, since these scholars are likely to highlight the features of this culture that emphasize the sense of sight, and these in turn will be perceived by Western scholars in relation to visual data as a result of their primary dependence on the sense of sight. The distortion increases if the culture under study shows a preference for one of the other senses, such as touch.

Scholars of the Orient have written thousands of books, theses, and dissertations about the Middle East, Islam, and Arab/Islamic culture. Their writings exceed by far what Arabs and Muslims have written about themselves, particularly in the modern age. Most of what the world today knows about Arab/Islamic culture, even much of what Arabs and Muslims know about themselves, has come by way of the writings of Orientalist European and American scholars.

If what we are saying is true, or at least close to the truth, and when we ourselves try to describe our culture and society in order to make them available to the rest of the world, is it not reasonable to suggest that we will find many complex features of this culture which were not perceived or discussed by Western anthropologists and Orientalists because they were not related to the sense of sight? Furthermore, is it possible that, generally speaking, the differences between cultures would depend merely on a culture's emphasis or dependence on one sense rather than another?

We will not be able to provide satisfactory answers to these questions here, but I will propose a simplified assumption, namely, that Western culture is structurally more dependent on the sense of sight than Arab/Islamic culture, and that this culture in turn is more dependent on the sense of hearing than Western culture. I will not be able to prove this supposition, but I will try to show that it is a reasonable one, and worthy of further exploration.

In an article published in 1972 in the Natural History Magazine, entitled "Seeing is Believing" [reprinted in Dundes 1980], Alan Dundes discusses the significance of the sense of sight in American society. Here is the opening paragraph of this article:

Whether from early memories of playing "peek-a-boo," "showing and telling" in school, or learning the opening phrases of the national anthem—"O say can you see"—the primacy of vision in American culture is affirmed again and again as infants grow to adulthood. Americans are conditioned from childhood to believe that "what you see is what you get."

Dundes ends his article with the thought that cross-cultural "comparisons of sense categories may not only reveal critical differences in the specific senses, but also whether or not the apparent priority of vision over the other senses is a human universal." As far as I know no one has taken up the challenge posed by Dundes, and he himself has not pursued his research further, whether in relation to American or other cultures. The fact of the matter is that this is a difficult subject: it is much easier to talk about it than to study it in relation to observable instances of behavior.

Dundes' article highlights those aspects of American behavior, which the author says show a clear preference for the sense of sight, and it discusses them as representative aspects of American culture as a whole. What I shall do here is proceed as Dundes does and demonstrate, with reference to some of the same practices which he maintains show a clear preference for the sense of sight, that in these and similar cases the Arab person prefers to rely on hearing or another sense altogether.

Of course, Dundes does not establish that Americans do not rely on senses other than sight in the many aspects of culture that he does not address in his essay. Similarly, if I succeed in this essay in showing that the Arab person relies more on hearing than on sight in respect to many aspects of culture treated by Dundes, this, in turn, does not establish that Arab individuals do not rely on sight or some other sense in many or even most aspects of Arab culture. I will now take some of the examples used by Dundes and explore the extent to which they apply to Arab individuals and culture.

As we can see from the quotation, Dundes mentions that a game in which adults play with infants whose age does not exceed a few months is called "peek-a-boo." Arabs play the same game with infants, saying "ba'ayni." I have had occasion to observe this game among both communities, and I came away with the impression that the element of surprise for the American child arises from the successive disappearance and reappearance of the adult face, and that the word "peek-a-boo" does not play a large role in surprising the child, attracting his/her attention and producing laughter. While, among Arabs, the element of surprise depends to a large extent on sound, for the word "ba'ayni" is spoken in rapid rhythm and at an elevated pitch—far louder than when Americans say "peek-a-boo."

Similarly (as mentioned by Dundes) one of the initial methods of teaching American children when they enter school is called "show and tell." In this game the teacher asks each pupil to bring an item from home which s/he then shows to the other children, describing it in some detail while pointing to the parts of that item and the way it is put together and used, and such like. Education here takes place as a result of seeing and speaking. What, then, are the initial methods of education for the Arab child? Until the recent past, education took place in the small schools known as the kuttabs, which are run by religious sheikhs. The sheikh in these schools, or the teacher in many modern schools, begins by saying something in a loud voice, and the children repeat after him or her, also in a loud voice. This is repeated until the children learn what is being taught by heart, without any sort of visual cue or even (in most cases) without understanding the meaning of the information being communicated, regardless of whether it has to do with reading, teaching the Qur'an, poetry, or arithmetic. Thus we see that the preferred method of traditional education in Arab/Islamic culture is by means of hearing and speaking, and not by seeing and speaking, as in the West.

Parents also resort to the same method of teaching their children from the earliest stages of childhood, before the children are admitted into kindergarten or school. The American mother teaches her child language by pointing to things and talking to the child about them, encouraging him or her to use them and discover their parts and how they work. The Arab mother, on the other hand, teaches her child language by pronouncing the words, letting the child repeat after her without pointing out the things to which the words refer. She, for example, will teach the child to repeat the names of the family members, and the names of animals and birds and the sounds that they make. She may teach the child songs, sayings, or sentences with abstract meanings, or even the numbers from one to ten without explaining what the numbers mean or without pointing to things in the process of counting. Thus, the child learns the numbers in order by heart without learning how to count tangible objects or how to use these numbers, repeating them all from one to ten when he or she hears a number or even the first sound of a number. This way of teaching children, by making the child repeat what he or she knows from hearing the very initial sound of a number, is widely used by the Arab (Palestinian) mother to show off her child and his or her cleverness in speaking to friends, neighbors, and relatives. A mother might say to her child, "Come, show daddy what you learned today!" But the child does not understand what is required and does not respond to her request. The mother then follows this up by making the first sound of what she wants the child to say, for example: "I" (Aaaaaye), and the child continues with, "love daddy a lot." Or the mother might say, "Come, darling sing 'Allah,'" and the child continues with "lives O Abu Shusha!" Or the mother might say, "Come show us how well you can count! Come on, 'Waaaan,'" and the child would continue with "Twoooo, threeee . . ." and so on.

We note also that the Arab mother conditions her child to undertake actions or bodily movements upon hearing the auditory cues associated with these movements, without showing concern for the child's understanding of the meaning of these requests or orders. The child's response then becomes automatic upon hearing the auditory cues. The mother might say something like, "Dah! Dah!" and the baby would make a movement with its hands, which the mother explains as a form of dancing. Or she might say, "Heedo, Heedo!" and the infant would attempt to stand up. Or she might say, "Daadee, Daadee!" and the child would start moving its feet as if to walk.

Dundes says that American culture relies on the sense of sight so much that Americans perceive the world around them through this sense. We might therefore say, metaphorically, that Americans see the world around them but do not hear, touch, smell, or taste it. This orientation to the world is illustrated in daily expressions. Let us observe how Dundes does this, and whether or not it, or something different, would apply to the Arab individual. Thus, the American, Dundes says, uses sight metaphorically to express understanding in such expressions as, "I see," or "as I see it." Americans in general express their understanding of any idea by saying that they "see" it. For Arabs, this use of "seeing" is comprehensible, but they do not need to use the sense of sight metaphorically. If for some reason a person had to resort to using the senses to express an understanding of something, then hearing would serve the purpose as well as, or better than, seeing. For one to say, "I hear what you're saying," meaning "I understand what you mean," would be more acceptable and in greater accordance with common usage than saying, "I see what you mean." But in either case, it would be preferable to say, "I understand what you're saying." On the other hand, if we want to make sure that the person whom we are addressing understands our meaning, the question, "Do you hear me?" is more appropriate than, "Do you see what I'm saying." "Do you understand what I'm saying?" would be most appropriate of all.

Americans, Dundes also says, are empiricists, and their empiricism favors the sense of sight more than the other senses. Americans do not trust or become convinced of anything until after they have "seen." Once they "see," that, in itself, is sufficient and there will be no need for further proof by means of the other senses. Americans say, "Seeing is believing" or "I saw it with my own eyes," asking others to "see for themselves." When an American doubts the veracity of what is said s/he might say, "That I've got to see." On the other hand, the Arab's trust of the sense of sight is, in my view, far less than that of the American because the Arab casts doubt on appearances, which may be deceiving. If an Arab wants to make sure of the veracity of what is being said s/he might say, "I heard it with my own ears," or "His words stuck in my ears." If an Arab, for example, were to doubt the truth of what is being said, s/he might ask the interlocutor to confirm what had been said, by giving his or her "word" that it is true. If s/he wants to go further, s/he might request the other person to verify what was said "on your honor (sharaf or dhimma);" or s/he might ask him to swear in the name of God, or on the Qur'an. But s/he will not insist on "seeing with his/her own eyes" because "only a shit[head]— il-khara—does not believe until s/he sees."

The difference in dependence on the different senses between Arabs and Americans comes out clearly in relation to shopping. Americans hesitate before buying something "sight unseen." Before buying something they may wish to "look it over," but they would not normally touch the merchandise or examine it with any of the other senses. An American shopkeeper may have a negative reaction to a customer's touching the merchandise, and if the buyer were to try tasting or smelling it, that would be considered unacceptable, especially if the merchandise comes already wrapped. True, an Arab will not buy "fish in the sea," but when the fish is put in front of him/her what does the Arab person do? It is certain s/he will reach out with his/her hand, feel it, and turn several fishes over before finally picking one, lifting it up, and turning it around, making sure to press its flesh, smell it, and examine its eyes and gills. This will continue until the customer picks what s/he wants. It may be thought that all this is necessary because fish spoil quickly, but Arabs will do this with everything, even prepared foods. They do not find it embarrassing to touch the merchandise, feel it with their hands, and frequently even taste it. If the merchandise is of the type that can emit some kind of sound, then the Arab will try to get a sound out of it by shaking it thumping it, or tapping the fingers on its surface. A watermelon, for example, which the American might not assume would emit any sounds, might be lifted up between the Arab's palms, brought close to his/her ear, and pressed with his/her palms in order to listen to sounds inside it. It might not be bought until a large number had been similarly checked.

Because Americans depend largely on sight for evaluating an item of merchandise, there now exists in the United States a huge packaging industry that costs the American consumer billions of dollars a year. The purpose behind packaging is to make the item appear better and bigger than it in fact is. I do not believe that packaging would be equally successful among Arabs. An Arab consumer faced with a packaged product is likely to squeeze the box, shake it, bend it, or (often) even empty it.

In his article, Dundes also uses as evidence expressions from tourism. Americans travel for the purpose of "sight-seeing" as they move at top speed from one town to another in order to see the greatest number of places and document their experience with photographs. They rarely enjoy their travels as they should because they are oriented towards looking, making no effort to get acquainted with local people, or to enjoy the unaccustomed smells of a place, its cuisine, or music. According to Dundes, this emphasis on seeing the maximum number of places is based on the notion of quantity, or getting the best deal for the money spent on any particular activity.

Some medical expressions also support the emphasis in American culture on seeing, where patients wait for the doctor to "see them," as if doctors treat people by sight. In Arabic we say that a doctor examines (yafhas) or "uncovers" (yakshif'ala) the patient, or may even "feel" (yahiss, ya'iss) or take the pulse of (yajiss) of the patient. A doctor may even write out a prescription upon hearing a description of the patient's symptoms from a relative, but it would not be acceptable for a doctor to prescribe medicine upon merely seeing the patient. We frequently hear people complaining about a doctor because "s/he doesn't do an examination, but writes a prescription after seeing the patient." Doctors who examine different parts of the patient's body and who ask a lot of questions and are willing to discuss the sick person's condition are preferred.

According to Dundes, Americans depend on sight to evaluate not only a person who is in their presence but also an absent one, based on his or her "public image," while for the Arab, the other person is judged according to reputation that is, what one hears other people say about them. Furthermore, Americans understand not only the present with reference to the sense of sight, but the future as well. Americans will go to a "seer" who looks into the unknown in an effort to find out what is hidden in that person's future, whereas the Arab will go to the "knower" ('arraf) who knows what is hidden, or to an "opener" (fattah) who will unlock the gates of the unknown.

Finally, Dundes says that Americans relate to each other through sight, because they normally prefer not to touch or be touched, except in a love- or sexual relationship. Meeting after long absence is usually accompanied by an exchange of greetings, or when relations are warm a mere handshake. Further, most of what is said during the exchange of greetings has to do with sight, such as, "It's good to see you," "See you later," or "I'll be seeing you," and so on. The Arab greeting, on the other hand, even among men, might involve embracing and kissing on the cheek. A person returning after a long absence or coming out of prison may be hugged and kissed ten or twenty times. Young men are not embarrassed to walk down the street holding hands or with their arms around each other's shoulders. Dundes mentions that there are no American expressions praising those who rely on the sense of smell, taste or hearing, while we Arabs have good things to say about a person who listens (literally, "someone who hears the word") and we praise a person who has taste: our proverbs say, "The smell of a husband is better than having none," or "The smell of a mother brings [the family] together." When American youths see a beautiful girl walking down the street, one might say to the other, "Look, but don't touch," while the Arab youth will whisper in his friend's ear, "Smell, but don't taste."

In this essay, I have presented a number of perspectives that show differences between Arabs and Americans regarding the degree of dependence on the various senses. While it does not constitute proof of the thesis, I believe it is sufficient to persuade researchers that it is valid and merits serious investigation.