Stories of twins are ancient, harking back to the Hebrew tales of Cain and Abel, Isaac and Ishmael, Jacob and Esau and the countless other myths that all cultures tell in one form or another about twins. Some tales end well, like Zeus granting Castor and Pollux immortality together in the night sky as the sign of Gemini. Some end badly, like the murder of Abel by Cain.

(Written September, 2001)

Following the 9-11 terrorist attacks, the twins are emerging again as a theme of the age, a story that underpins events of the day and illustrates the dilemma that confronts civilization. The twins in NYC were targeted by people who oppose what they represent(ed): American and Western dominance.

Most stories of twins have faded into obscurity, leaving us collectively without the guidance of the ages, the wisdom passed down from past generations about how they dealt with the challenges of their day. Without this valuable knowledge we are ill-equipped. East confronts West and the twins once again wrestle. However, the knowledge passed down through mythological tales of twins is written deep in our minds. With Cliff Notes, we in this time of need and trouble will hopefully get the message.

The relationship of Christianity and Islam is a twins story based on rival brothers taught by the same parents, but grow up with far different interpretations of what they learned. Islam and Christianity spring from Abraham, said to be the father of many nations, claimed first by the Hebrews. Then a Hebrew prophet, Jesus of Nazareth, founded Christianity, and around seven centuries later along comes Muhammad claiming to be the last of the line and highest fulfillment of the scriptures that began with Abraham.

Every prophet in the Koran is Jewish except Muhammad – including Jesus. Two religions – Christianity and Islam – spawned from the same source. Two radically different cultures ready to finish their fight once and for all. Islam and Christianity are at odds like never before – religiously, culturally, and militarily. Our hope for a peaceful end to this chapter of the story is pinned on the two great cultures understanding the underlying dynamic of the division. That leads us back to the old stories searching for wisdom.

The Guiding Stories of Twin Brothers

In the story of the prodigal son, one sibling leaves home with a fat inheritance only to return penniless after many years of raucous living. The brother who stayed behind and tended the family business resented that his sibling would have the nerve to show his face again – and even worse, that he’d be welcomed back with a feast and an equal place in the family! Is he to be rewarded for being a screw-off and blowing his fortune? This attitude in turn angered the father, who tells the resentful brother that if he can’t welcome back his wayward sibling and be happy for the family, he might as well leave.

Islam finds itself nowadays in the place of the brother who stayed home but isn’t getting the rewards deemed due for years of faithful service. Islam collectively gives much more importance to prayer and organized religion in daily life, yet lags far behind the West in sophistication and developing technology. The West has grown so predominant that it threatens to engulf Islam and force it to conform to Western ways, effectively taking away its identity. Add in the fact that Israel – the parent – is aligned with one sibling against the other, and you get the idea of how the Islamic world feels right now.

Fear of annihilation, or decent into irrelevance, is common in old stories of twins, and Islam is staring the possibility in the face. That’s why the Middle East peace negotiations continue to go nowhere and Osama bin Laden’s call to arms resonates throughout the Islamic world. And why the days we live in have great potential for extreme peril. Cataclysmic peril.

Despite the enmity, the twins can’t live without each other. East and West are incomplete without the other. The challenge of existing side by side brings out the worst but also the best in each other. In a New York Times article published Nov. 24, 2001, a twin described the loss of his brother in the World Trade Center, and how there is no way to express what it means to lose someone he considered his other half. As much as we hear “down with the West” in parts of the Mid East, they’d miss their rival. The brothers don’t have to particularly like each other or agree on a way of life, but they have to at least respect each others uniqueness and rightful place in the world. Otherwise, as happens in myth, they perish together.

We all have a stake in how the story of this age plays out, and the more we see the mythological underpinnings, the better we understand the nature of the conflict at hand. As Helen M. Luke posited in an essay titled “Jacob and Esau”:

“In Judeo-Christian tradition, the theme of the two brothers at enmity begins after the Fall with Cain and Abel, continues with Isaac and Ishmael, and culminates in the much more complicated story of Jacob and Esau the first twins. It is because of the image of twinship that their story, particularly its ending, is of such profound relevance in this our century, when the separation of twins has become the most terrible danger, threatening the survival of all life on this planet.”

Luke’s words from the Summer 1994 edition of Parabola magazine couldn’t be more relevant today. The clash of opposites between Christianity and Islam is a mythological tale that could end like a Greek tragedy, where seemingly irreconcilable differences lead both parties down a path of mutual destruction. Or the story of this age could end like Jacob and Esau, who came to terms but never truly reunited as brothers.

Jacob was the born just behind Esau, but from the beginning challenged his brother’s place by grabbing hold of Esau’s heel on the way out. They were no mirror images from each other. Fraternal. Jacob took to the indoors, a mamma’s boy with light skin and short hair, perhaps a bit of a dandy, delicate and well-spoken. Esau came out red and hairy and loving the outdoors, the favorite of his father, a hunter, a man’s man. Christianity is like Jacob: light, clean-shaved, worldly. Islam Esau: hairy, fiery, closer to the earth. One of the tents and one of the fields. One who boldly explores strange new worlds pushing all limits. The other who stays closer to home pumping a living from the ground.

The modern Jacob – Christianity and the West in general – is replaying its role in an old story. Jacob went astray when he stole Esau’s birth right as eldest son. Esau had come to Jacob’s door faint from thirst and hunger. Jacob agreed to share some food and drink if Esau would relinquish his rights as first-born son, a shitty thing to do to your brother, but mom worked in the background pushing him. Esau said he would die on the spot if he didn’t get some nourishment – what good would be his birth rights if he were dead? – so he gave it up, perhaps figuring that his brother wouldn’t hold him to such a dubious agreement. Later, Jacob fooled his father into believing he was Esau to receive his father’s deathbed blessing.

Aside from illustrating what a jerk Jacob was, this part of the story tells how Islam gave up its place as the predominant religion and culture in the Western world. Islam had exclusive rights to the title of ‘most cultured and sophisticated’ until Christianity reemerged about 800 years ago. Islam, after all, preserved the ancient writings and built upon the knowledge of the Greeks while Christianity went through fits of barbarism and superstition in the Middle Ages. Islam combined western ways together with the teachings of Muhammad and created one of the grandest civilizations ever.

But where are they now? Bitterly divided, relegated to the ‘Second World’, dependent upon oil for their means. Thirsty and hungry from the labor. Ready to reclaim their birth right and have it out with the brother that took it. What does the West do in return?

After Jacob stole Esau’s birthright, they went their separate ways. Each built families and established themselves separately as individuals and adults with many descendants, workers and flocks. Years later, Esau sent advance word of his presence in the area with 400 men to see Jacob. Jacob thought Esau finally came to avenge the treachery of stealing his birthright. Terrified, he sent gifts in hope of mollifying old grudges.

The night before meeting his aggrieved brother, Jacob went through a dark night of the soul, a serious coming to terms with himself and his past. He wrestled with a divine force throughout the night, and at dawn asked his adversary to name itself.

“Bless me before I release you, demanded Jacob.” A new man emerged. The next day he met lost brother Esau, prepared to pay the consequence of stealing the birthright of first son.

Instead of his head on a platter, it turned out Esau sought reconciliation. Jacob greeted his brother warmly, but afterward went his own way rather than reestablishing old family bonds. Maybe as an adult he didn’t want to revisit the house of his parents and once again deal with issues of his youth.

What Christianity, Islam, and Judaism Can Learn

Either way, the story of Jacob and Esau has a relatively happy ending. They didn’t kill each other. In fact, they buried the hatchet. Jacob’s transformation prevented fratricide.

In the story of this age, the West is still ignorant of itself. Western Christian culture needs to wrestle with its shadow like Jacob and realize where its hubris has led to nemesis – namely, in exploiting technology and resources, and pushing the rest of the world to try to keep up in a game of winner-takes-all. Knowledge and power have gotten ahead of the ability to wisely use it. For all its high ideals of democracy, human rights, and liberty, the West – especially the U.S. – has a vast blind spot to its own shortcomings. Its urbane, hyper-competitive culture – ‘born of the tents’ and raised on its self-importance – has no regard for consequences. It wants now and that’s all it knows.

Islam has much to teach Christianity in this regard. When Islam predominated, it promoted tolerance, inquiry, and prudence – virtues incomplete in western culture. Granted, these virtues are incomplete in Islamic culture, too. But seen by its brother Islam, Christianity appears high on power, too secure in climate-controlled offices wielding might in the name of profit, not prophet. In the name of money and not mankind. In pursuit of short-term gain for the few over long-term prosperity for all. The World Trade Center symbolized this dark side, and the Pentagon the strong arm that guarantees supremacy.

A spreading feeling in the Islamic world – beyond Osama and the fanatics – is that someone has to oppose the western juggernaut in the name of Muhammad and Islam. The call to Jihad – defending the faith – must be heeded by Muslims. Conflict and violence hardens into extremist ideology. Even some of the most moderate Islamic adherents see threat in the West, and understand why their countrymen fight against it.

Jacob’s transformation and new-found insight avoided a potential disaster – a final conflict between siblings. Not just siblings: twins. The modern Jacob, though, sees no need to transform, and without it the story ends tragically. So could the story playing out right now, planes flying into buildings and armies on the march. The West is the one pushing the fight. Islam’s turf being invaded. What we’re seeing today is the result of centuries of exploitation by colonial powers of the West.

What is to be learned from old stories of two brothers who fight for the same birthright, learn from the same parents (Judaism), but grow up opposites? The story of Jacob and Esau and other twins points towards a duel relationship in constant conflict, but in search of harmony. A good analogy for the universe in general. This dynamic is always present, as all opposites balance and everything is made of opposites, down to its smallest particles. Good and Evil, Light and Dark, Islam and Christianity – opposites. Twins. Siblings at odds.

We can learn from their relationship about the nature of the conflict the world faces today, and how to bring about a happy ending. Helen Luke at the end of her essay about Jacob and Esau suggests a way:

“Collectively, we have lost the wonder of stone and soil, of animals and birds, and we have lost the spontaneous voice of dreams and visions, without which the people perish. But there are individuals who recognize the natural “red one” within and without, feeling the same fire that the hubris of intellect had turned into greed for power. There is a new wish to return to the gifts of our mother the earth. We may, as C.G. Jung said, come to a global, cosmic rebirth in this darkest time, if enough people will wrestle with the unknown God and ask his name – and see in our rejected twin the face of God.” [Em. add]