Designing Controversy: The Semiotics of Cordoba House

AFTER A MUCH-NEEDED summer hiatus, The Weekly Rader returns to the most interesting controversy in American culture in ages--whether it is appropriate to erect a mosque and Islamic cultural center in Lower Manhattan, just two blocks from the site of the former World Trade Centers.

Here at the TWR offices, we are less concerned with the questions about how close to Ground Zero is appropriate or who supports or rejects the proposal.  

Two items that have gone virtually unmentioned, though, jump out to us--the architecture of the proposed building and the terminology used to describe it.  The former is ameliorative and even unifying; while the latter has proven divisive.  

Why has the name and purpose of the Cordoba Center taken precedence over its rather innocuous design?  In short, the symbology of the design does not traffic in the same cultural associations as a term like "mosque."  One connotes Islam's Islamness; one connotes Islam's Americanness.

To be sure, the American Society for Muslim Advancement and the Cordoba Initiative (the two forces behind the project) made a conscious decision not to create a building that resembles a standard mosque.  There are no minarets, no gilded domes, and no crescent and star.  One sees only the faintest hint of the Moorish design pattern one finds in some urban mosques (like the great mosque of Paris at left).

In fact, one could argue that the architects of the Cordoba House sacrificed the semiotics of Islam to blend in with the semiotics of New York (and by extension) the semiotics of America.  It was the semiotics of America--its tallest buildings, their symbology--that the terrorists attacked, and it is that symbology the Cordoba House seems to embrace.  Indeed, it is remarkable how similar the proposed building looks to the original twin towers--a detail no one seems to be talking about.

What people are talking about is the notion of a mosque near Ground Zero.  For many Americans, a mosque is a shelter for Muslim extremists (even if it isn't).  It's a place that cultivates, indoctrinates, and celebrates the symbology of Islam.  It is ultimately, for those who oppose the Cordoba House, a place that makes sacred the ideals that led to the attacks on New York and Washington, D.C.

I wonder if the design had been released first along with a plan to build a "worship hall" or a "prayer center," if the reaction against the project would have been as passionate.  When jabbed by fear, people can get a whole lot more worked up about a mosque than a worship hall.

As the plans for this proceed, and as the President and other prominent politicians back (or oppose) the Cordoba House, I predict the terminology and symbology of Islam will become increasingly important in the conversation.

How The Sunrise Rock Cross Controversy is about Semiotics

WHY WOULD SOMEONE WANT to take down a cross that has stood as a symbol for American soldiers who have died during combat?

Well, in part because it is a cross.

Yesterday, the Supreme Court heard an unusual case that pitted freedom of expression against freedom of (and from) religion. In the Mojave Desert, a large metal cross looms above a rock outcropping. The cross is not part of a church. It does not belong to a religious organization. It was erected by the Veterans of Foreign Wars (VFW) to honor their fellow military men whose lives were lost during war. Now, some want to see the cross taken down, claiming that it privileges Christianity, when many soldiers were Jewish or Muslim or Buddhist or agnostic. And, since the cross stands on public land, there is a concern that it butts up against the Constitution's Establishment Clause--or what Thomas Jefferson called "the wall of separation between church and state."

At the crux (pardon the pun) of the argument is what the cross stands for.

Can a cross, for example, symbolize something more than Christianity? Or, more importantly, can a cross symbolize something that is not Christian? Is it even possible to see a cross and not associate it with religion? Judge Scalia argued in court that the cross is the default marker in the United States for the dead. Crosses in church might signify "Jesus" or "religion," but crosses on the side of the road, Scalia would say, signify "death" or "memorial."

Previous courts have held that the cross is a religious icon and breaks the law. In fact, it's been boarded up for two years now. The image of a boarded up cross raises its own issues, but the very notion that a cross could stand for many things but not one thing is a provocative notion.

Semiotics is the study of signs--what they mean, how we interpret them, and how they carry power and affect our lives. Every semiotic text has a signifier and a signified. The signifier is the object, the sign, the symbol; the signifier is what that symbol or sign means or stands for or evokes. In the United States, if we see a red octagonal sign with the markings S T O P on it, we know to stop moving. If we see an American flag, we don't think of Albania. In America, the signifer "flag" evokes many, many, signifiers.

In this case the signifier is the cross. What is at stake, though, and what remains the source of the lawsuit is what is being signified.

How can such a widely recognized and such a wholly sacred siginifier like a cross carry such different meanings? Well, in truth, loaded signifiers are the most likely to cause offense. Take the Confederate flag, for example. For some Southerners, the signifier of the flag signifies "heritage," "pride," "tradition," and "a way of life." For others, though, the very same object connotes "hatred," "slavery," and "racism."

The cross is no different. For Christians, it might signify "Jesus." For militant Muslims, the cross might carry connotations that are more about the West than about religion. The cross can also be a signifier for the Ku Klux Klan. And, if you are a vampire, the cross enjoys a whole different set of signifying powers--none of them good.

To be sure, Judge Scalia is correct that in the United States we tend to assume a cross in a graveyard signifies death. But, the setting of a cemetery helps you read the cross as a burial marker, not so much as a religious symbol. This is a good example of a signifier being contextual. A cross on fire in a front yard means one thing; a cross with a singular flame and a halo means something else. In the case of the Sunrise Rock Cross, there is no cemetery. There are no other markings to indicate that the space is a place of burial or mourning. It is public land and fairly vacant.

In this setting, a cross, in general, probably signifies a church is nearby or a Christian has simply erected a big cross on his land to show the world his level of religious commitment. The question is, does a big cross like this on public land with nothing else around it to signify "war dead," mean that the federal government is privileging Christianity and sanctioning one religion (and one religious symbol) over others.

The answer is yes.

Does that mean the cross should come down?

Well, that's complicated. And it shall, at this point, have to remain the subject of another post.

But, I'd love to hear what you have to say about this topic.

More Obama: This Time, The New Yorker Cover

NO ONE WAS PREPARED for the friendly fire caused by the recent New Yorker cover—certainly not Barack Obama and his army of over-prepared staff. But, the hardest bullets to dodge are the ones coming from your own side. With friends like The New Yorker, well, who needs friends?

Right now, The New Yorker needs a friend. Anger over its confusing cover is the talk of the town because of its seemingly stereotyped rendering of the Obamas. In case you haven’t seen it, the cover renders Obama as a Muslim and his wife Michelle as a camo-wearing gunslinging mercenary. The two are fist-bumping in the oval office where an American flag burns in the fireplace right beneath a portrait of Osama bin Laden.

But, the question is, what, exactly, was The New Yorker’s misstep? Or, was there even a misstep? Is all of the drang an actual sturm? Or, is it merely a summer shower along the campaign’s dusty, mud-raked trail? Though the reaction to the cover has been tempestuous, the truth is, cartoonist Barry Blitt played fast and loose with sensitive semiotic images that became unusually strong cultural lighting rods.

The main problem lies in the ability of images to communicate through association and their inability to communicate through articulation. If there had been some sort of caption, or if the cartoon’s title “The Politics of Fear” had somehow accompanied the cover, readers might have been better prepared to read the image as satire. But, too few semiotic codes exist in the piece to help readers look at the cover through the lens of caricature; so instead, many saw it as commentary.

Blitt’s first mistake here was to incorporate too many factual details, a classic faux pas that often gets in the way of satire and parody. Guilty of what I call “shuffled signification,” Blitt jumbles authentic events that actually happened (like the fist bump) with fictional fears (like Obama’s Muslim roots), making it unclear if the artist is warning readers or mocking them. Similarly, the burning flag evokes rumors that Obama won’t salute Old Glory or wear the flag lapel pin (a canard put to rest, ironically, by the recent cover of Rolling Stone), while Blitt drapes him in African garb that looks too much like the clothes he wears in the oft-posted photo. Again, since Obama did pose for a photo in traditional African clothes—that is no urban legend—the cover sends mixed messages about its stance on rumor versus reality, fact versus fiction.

The staggering speed of the responses—by liberals and conservatives—is a testament to how electric these images are. “Despite the defenses by New Yorker staffers,” writes J.S. on the blog SemiObama, “and a pretty good online presence, I don't think they were prepared for the New Media reaction to [the cover], the nature of instant analysis, and response storm that follows every political and cultural development, especially in this campaign.”

Indeed.

Obama’s smartest reaction would be to laugh this one off. It would not only prove he is a savvy reader of complex texts, but it would also diffuse the shock value of all of the rumors, rendering them as ridiculous to everyone else as they are to The New Yorker. But, our culture has not yet gotten enough distance from incendiary images like a flaming flag or a portrait of Osama bin Laden to enable us to look through our associations of those images. The semiotics of the cover are so charged, so flammable, even fire-proof Obama can get burned.