The 20th century bears witness to the extent to which the potential scale of destruction is proportional to the dimensions of human knowledge. Simultaneously, an ethical disarray grows prevalent within a civilization obliged to do away with the hopes and ideals of the Enlightenment. Continuous entertainment is replacing models capable of nourishing the leisure of human thought and learning. We are threatened with ‘the loss of the different perspectives of human memory’, which can but ‘facilitate the repetition of past mistakes’.

First I think I should explain that call. It echoed in my ears for the first time a very long time ago and far, far away: on the Roof of the World, the Afghan Pamir, more than 30 years ago. It was uttered by a Kirghiz shepherd following a herd of sheep. Even if it is not in fact possible to transcribe that call accurately - the combination of the phonetic parameters that determine it would necessitate a representation using a graph or numerical matrices - I will attempt to give it a written shape, HAY, while admitting that this transcription denotes an abstraction that subsumes many possible realizations. But be that as it may. A few years later, when I was living in the Haut-Livradois, in the deepest heart of rural France, I was surprised to hear that call again on the lips of an Auvergnat peasant who was taking his sheep to the meadow. This unlikely coincidence led me to take a closer interest in the problem of communication between humans and animals. It is the essence of that thinking that I would today like to pass on to the readers of Diogenes in an issue devoted to the East/West contrast.

The notion that there was a profound cultural boundary between Europe (defined as Christian) and Asia (defined as other, including Islam, Buddhism, Hinduism …) was dear to the hearts of the Europeans at least from the beginning of the Industrial Revolution. But it is as much a figment of European creation as the notion of a physical boundary. Of course there were cultural differences of a graduated kind and important political-military ones with the western developments of ships and guns (using the Islamic compass and Chinese gunpowder), but especially with the development of industrial production. Pomerantz has recently argued that western economic supremacy was not in evidence until after that time, a thesis that obviously cuts at the roots of those many writers who claim a cultural advantage in the West going back perhaps to classical times, to Christianity, to the German heritage, or even to the Renaissance and Reformation. Some important changes did occur in the West following developments in the sphere of printing, mainly in the sphere of education and the modes of communication. That earlier levels of cultural attainment were not so very different is clear from the early Jesuit reports of their work in the East.

On 6 August 1945, I was exposed to radiation in Hiroshima during the atomic bombing. At that time I was 15 years old, a third-year junior high school student, and working at a factory in Hiroshima under the wartime student mobilization plan. A total of 201 people from my school (13 teachers and 188 students) were killed outright in the bombing. I narrowly escaped death, but suffered from radiation sickness for many years afterwards. At one point, my white blood cell count dropped sharply, endangering my life.

When I chose painting as my vocation, I decided to put on canvas my prayer for world peace that stems from my experience in Hiroshima. In 1959, I painted Arrival of Buddhism, a picture depicting the 17-year-long journey to India of Xuanzang (600–664), a Chinese priest during the Tang Dynasty, in search of enlightenment. This work made my name known as a painter among the general public.

Two great challenges for reform of education have to be addressed if Muslim society is to respond meaningfully to the threat of terrorism.

Most Muslims are strongly opposed to acts of violence, in any form, undertaken in the name of religion. Consequently, it hurts us to constantly see the name of Islam, ‘the religion of peace’, linked with international terrorism. Nevertheless, as Muslims we must face the reality that if we fail to address the challenges before us we will find ourselves constantly confronted with accusations of harbouring terrorists - regardless of how fair those generalized accusations might be. If, however, we are prepared seriously to address these two challenges, people such as Osama Bin Laden will find increasingly little solace or support in Muslim society.

In the course of human civilization, religion has underpinned the development of values of human respect, tolerance, peace, and the culture of peace. Unfortunately, at the same time, religion has also played the opposite role during some periods of history. Therefore, it is important to investigate how and to what extent religious faiths, or if I may say more accurately religious paradigms, have been and are ready to educate their believers in the above-mentioned value support system, and how they could set about so doing. How can religion provide us with an ambiance and a paradigm within which we can create an atmosphere of dialogue among different value systems? In this brief article, I try to seek light from the teachings of the great Persian thinker and poet, Jalaluddin Mowlavi Rumi, to be able to elaborate on this topic.