Fouad Ajami, a Fellow I Once Met, Died
Bret Stephens, noting the recent death of Fouad Ajami, wrote, in the Wall Street Journal, of his life, specifically what Stephens considers the genius of his thinking, as concretely and eloquently expressed in his writings. I'm familiar with some of those writings, mostly his various op-eds for the Journal and other source. The man could certainly write well. And while not intimately familiar with the man, I did actually meet him once, and spoke with him briefly. If my experience was at all a reasonable gauge, Stephens assessment of Ajami as thinker and as person appear to be spot on.
In contrast to Stephens' assessment, the New York Times obituary was apparently a bit sour regarding Ajami, at least according to Stephens. I say "apparently" because I haven't read, and probably won't read, that obituary, given Stephens' comments. Why waste time on it if it's sour? I'm applying here the good advice to never speak ill of the dead. Yes, I realize that Ajami was a public figure, and so fair game in a sense. But for me, having spent all of a few minutes speaking with him, he was a bit more than just a public figure. He was body and soul, right there, holding a cocktail as I held mine, pleasant, personable, friendly - the point is more than just "sociable."
Why this sticks with me is that the person who invited me to this academic gathering where I met Ajami was someone known to Ajami, someone who opposed Ajami's views in many areas, although not someone who held any malice towards him. Having met any number of academics over the years - we have academics in the family - I'm usually pleasantly surprised when there's not negative sniping or criticism, if not outright malice, from an academic speaking of someone who fundamentally opposes him or her, especially when it comes to politics. Ajami knew who I was, knew that the person who invited me held opposing political views from him, and in spite of it was that personable, friendly chap I described as we exchanged pleasantries. For this I always gave him due credit. It set him apart in my mind from so many other academics I've met.
Again, without having read the New York Times obit, one more thought about speaking ill of the dead: Unless you're talking about the likes of Hitler or Stalin or their ilk, try to remember that the person who has left this world was one or all of the following: son, daughter, husband, wife, father, mother, trusted friend, charitable giver. If you read these over, I think you'll find that few, if any, of us isn't at least one of these and loved for it. And so we'll be missed by at least one person when we leave this world, just as the recently departed will be missed by someone. And those who miss them most likely have reason to have loved them.
Forget all the complexities of relationships gone "dysfunctional." Even the connivers and manipulators in this world have perhaps done some good from time to time, have loved - if only for brief moments - one or more people bedsides themselves. Give them the benefit of the doubt and leave the memory of the dead undisturbed.
Fouad Ajami, rest in peace.
In contrast to Stephens' assessment, the New York Times obituary was apparently a bit sour regarding Ajami, at least according to Stephens. I say "apparently" because I haven't read, and probably won't read, that obituary, given Stephens' comments. Why waste time on it if it's sour? I'm applying here the good advice to never speak ill of the dead. Yes, I realize that Ajami was a public figure, and so fair game in a sense. But for me, having spent all of a few minutes speaking with him, he was a bit more than just a public figure. He was body and soul, right there, holding a cocktail as I held mine, pleasant, personable, friendly - the point is more than just "sociable."
Why this sticks with me is that the person who invited me to this academic gathering where I met Ajami was someone known to Ajami, someone who opposed Ajami's views in many areas, although not someone who held any malice towards him. Having met any number of academics over the years - we have academics in the family - I'm usually pleasantly surprised when there's not negative sniping or criticism, if not outright malice, from an academic speaking of someone who fundamentally opposes him or her, especially when it comes to politics. Ajami knew who I was, knew that the person who invited me held opposing political views from him, and in spite of it was that personable, friendly chap I described as we exchanged pleasantries. For this I always gave him due credit. It set him apart in my mind from so many other academics I've met.
Again, without having read the New York Times obit, one more thought about speaking ill of the dead: Unless you're talking about the likes of Hitler or Stalin or their ilk, try to remember that the person who has left this world was one or all of the following: son, daughter, husband, wife, father, mother, trusted friend, charitable giver. If you read these over, I think you'll find that few, if any, of us isn't at least one of these and loved for it. And so we'll be missed by at least one person when we leave this world, just as the recently departed will be missed by someone. And those who miss them most likely have reason to have loved them.
Forget all the complexities of relationships gone "dysfunctional." Even the connivers and manipulators in this world have perhaps done some good from time to time, have loved - if only for brief moments - one or more people bedsides themselves. Give them the benefit of the doubt and leave the memory of the dead undisturbed.
Fouad Ajami, rest in peace.
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