The Argentine Approach

The divide between “the Orient” and “the Occident” seems quite definitive. These constructs have shaped how we split the world in political, economic, and cultural contexts. But can we truly claim that such a binary exists? Splitting the world in two ignores regional histories, identities, and all-encompassing ontologies and epistemologies. The placement of Latin America into these categories exposes the flaws in a binary approach. In one sense, Latin America is (quite literally) the West, sitting in the Western hemisphere, speaking European languages, and primarily practicing Catholicism. However, the region lacks the shared history with Europe and North America—namely, that of being a twentieth century colonial power—that has shaped our conception of “the West,” placing Latin America as “the Other.” Latin America’s ambiguous position suggests a binary approach cannot account for the peripheral position of a region that can be shaped by the West yet excluded from its historical narrative. Looking past this binary, we must ask: Does splitting the world into “the Orient” and “the Occident” oversimplify the complexities of cultures, thus acting as a continued form of imperialism?

Despite being set across the Atlantic, in twelfth-century Moorish Iberia, Jorge Luis Borges’s “Averroës’ Search,” or La busca de Averroës, indirectly grapples with such a question by exploring cross-cultural and translational philosophy. This essay intends to engage Borges’s story with critical scholarship and original analysis, using Latin America as an example to challenge the constructs of “the Orient” and “the Occident,” or “the East” and “the West.” As an Argentine writer, Borges brings a perspective that inherently defies these constructs. Latin America occupies a space in both the Western and non-Western worlds. Therefore, Latin American creatives bring this transcendent perspective to discussions of intercultural engagement. This approach, whether intentional or not, is a rejection of the fixedness of “the Orient” and “the Occident.” Borges’s philosophy represents how the existence of Latin America is a disproof of these constructs. Throughout “Averröes’ Search,” Borges works to “refute the common view which sees language as an entity neutral with respect to culture and history,” and expose “culturally and historically determined ways of thinking.” According to Jon Stewart, these intentions are commonly overlooked by scholars when discussing “Averroës’ Search.” In his quest to understand and translate the Greek terms for “comedy” and “tragedy,” Averroës’s place within the Islamic world prevents him from grasping these concepts. Borges demonstrates this through dramatic irony.

As Averroës walks towards his bookshelf to consult another Arab scholar’s work—demonstrating our tendencies to work within our own ontological comforts—he notices a group of children playing pretend in a courtyard, climbing on one another to form a mosque. While this playful performance captures the idea of Western drama, Averroës fails to realize answers to his questions as they present themselves. Later, abu-al-Hasan describes a Western theatrical experience to Faraj and Averroës. Again, as neither abu-al-Hasan nor his audience have the cultural framework upon which to build these concepts, Averroës once again cannot recognize the answers as they pass by him. Abu-al-Hasan can only describe the theater with tropes familiar to the Arab mind. When describing actors, he said: “they rode horses, but the horse was not to be seen… they died, and then they walked again.” Our minds are constricted within our cultures and the ontologies they create. Despite our efforts, everything we perceive is relative to these frameworks. Borges’s writing is a direct reflection of this. As a Latin American author, his writing and the ideas which it perpetuates are shaped by the region’s position between the Western and non-Western worlds.

While he demonstrates the relationship between cultural spheres and ways of thinking, Borges does not end his story with resolution. Instead, he poses a philosophical dilemma pertaining to translational theory. After Averroës finalizes his infamous mistranslations of “comedy” and “tragedy,” Borges writes:

I know that [Averroës] suddenly disappeared, as though annihilated by a fire without a light, and that with him disappeared the house and the unseen fountain and the books and the manuscripts and the turtledoves and the many black-haired slave girls and the trembling red-haired slave girl and Faraj and abu-al-Hasan and the rosebush and perhaps even the Guadalquivir (Borges, 241).

In the moment he ceases to engage with Greek culture, Averroës is lost to history, becoming inaccessible to an Argentine writer. To Sergio Waisman, Borges’s erasure of Averroës conveys his philosophy on translation and cross-cultural engagement: “The reader/translator/writer only exists in the process of searching for an Other” (Waisman, 115). Borges asserts that translation is an active process. As Stewart put it, “the gifted translator is [not] merely someone with a great capacity to memorize” (Stewart, 321). Simply exposing oneself to another culture is not enough to understand it. Borges’s work opens opportunities for reflection, dialogue, and continuous effort. Once we fail to put forth this effort, the barriers of cultural spheres will rise and block the path towards understanding. The epilogue of “Averroës’ Search” holds a similar sentiment, with Borges narrating: “And just when I stop believing in him, ‘Averroës’ disappears” (Borges, 241). This line works to shift the reader’s perspective: rather than reflecting backwards in time, from Borges to Averroës to Aristotle, Borges directs the audience to look forwards in time. By doing so, readers must reflect upon themselves, eventually examining their own relationships with foreign cultures.

Borges’s commentary on how language and culture influence our thinking naturally leads to a discussion of how his own identity as an Argentine shaped the philosophies presented in “Averroës’ Search.” In the words of Waisman, Borges believed that “translations are not necessarily inferior to originals, that the concept of a ‘definitive text’ is a fallacy, and that the merit of a translation, paradoxically, resides in its ‘creative infidelities’” (Waisman, 110). In some cases, Borges has claimed that translations of “Near Eastern” texts into European languages were improved when cultural elements of the original text were removed by translators. This philosophy seems similar to the “Orientalism” practiced by Western translators during the twentieth century. However, the position of Latin America between “the Orient” and “the Occident” grants Borges and other Latin American writers a unique authority to blur the seemingly definitive barrier. In contexts in which Western authors may try to further suppress colonized cultures, the Latin American experience drives authors to invite their audiences to reflect on and actively engage with these cultures.

Translation and imperialism share a long and complicated history. Western powers often oversimplify non-Western cultures through the process of translation. Stewart highlights how Borges captures this: “In the first sentence of the story, the very name Averroës is the conveniently simplified Latin version of an extremely complex Arabic name… which seemed utterly incomprehensible to the Latin mind” (Stewart, 326). Borges writes: “Abu-al-Waīd Muhammad ibn-Ahmad ibn-Rushd—it would take that long name, passing through ‘Benraist’ and ‘Avenris’ and even ‘Aben Rassad’ and ‘Filius Rosadis,’ a hundred years to become Averroës’” (Borges, 235). Borges reflects how the Western world’s discussion of Averroës has led to misunderstandings of things as basic as his name. If we cannot effectively translate names across times and cultures, how can we communicate ideas tied to our ontological spheres?

Comparing Borges’s approach to those of his Western counterparts emphasizes cultural differences. Over the twentieth century, English and French translators frequently cut elements of non-Western texts with the intention of “domesticating” their “foreignness,” much like Borges (Waisman, 111). The differences between these translators and Borges, however, lies in historical narratives and power dynamics. While English and French translators held the historical power to shift narratives—as the American, British, and French empires held significant influence over the twentieth century—Spanish translators (in particular, those from Latin America) did not hold the same imperial leverage. With this in mind, we must ask: Could Borges’s translational changes of “Near Eastern” texts have been to make them more approachable to his target audiences? Were they—like the rest of his translational philosophy—encouraging reflection and dialogue? Scholars propose an alternate version of “Orientalism,” dubbed “Hispanic Orientalism.” This version of “Orientalism” “is grounded in a respect for diversity.” This approach “values a dialogue of discourses, reflecting on antithetical denial of and openness to the Other.” Borges’s call for active engagement with other cultures encouraged by the disappearance in “Averroës’ Search” would suggest that he is a “Hispanic Orientalist,” as defined by Julia Kushigian. Rather than accept Kushigian’s definition, though, I will advance disagreement with the use of the term “Hispanic Orientalism,” as it perpetuates the binary idea of “the Orient” and “the Occident.” Instead, this is simply a non-traditional approach to translation; “Hispanic Transculturalism” would be a more appropriate name, reflecting how the region, having a shared experience with imperialism, has been collectively and uniquely positioned between the Western and non-Western worlds, thus inviting intercultural engagement.

Unsurprisingly—and slightly ironically—the translation of “Averroës’ Search” which circulates around the Anglophone world includes a titular translational “infidelity” with the potential to change the text’s interpretation. Waisman shares how the short story’s Spanish, and original, title, La busca de Averroës, can have two meanings. First, and what the English translation conveys, the preposition de can mean “of.” This implies that the search belongs to Averroës: Averroës’s search for Aristotle’s work. However, the Spanish translation allows for a second interpretation, which suggests that Averroës is what is being searched for: in this case, Borges does the searching (Waisman, 114). By removing the dual meaning of the title, the reflection that Borges encourages disappears, which is antithetical to his philosophy. Removing this cross-cultural engagement prolongs imperialist ideology as it permits English-speaking audiences to interact with the text without reflecting on themselves. To correct this problem, Waismen proposes “The Search of/for Averroës” as an alternative English title (Waisman, 114-115).

In “Averroës’ Search,” Borges challenges us to traverse the barriers our languages and cultures place on us. By highlighting Averroës’s inability to grasp concepts outside of his ontology, Borges underscores the complexities of human cultures. His approach to translation, although it parallels that of Western thinkers, is distinctly Latin American. This complicated relationship between Latin America and the traditional West proves that a region can both be shaped by the Western world but be excluded from its historical narrative. Borges’s translational and cross-cultural philosophies reflect a perspective that could only belong to Latin America. It holds an almost paradoxical power: while the region shares cultural elements with the West that grant it a degree of imperial authority, Latin America lacks the West’s historical legacy of colonial dominance. This perspective transcends the East-West binary. Thus, using definitive and exclusionary labels such as “the Orient” and “the Occident” becomes harmful. Not only does this binary ignore the nuanced complexities of human cultures—which Borges has demonstrated—but it enables historically powerful groups to retain such power, while keeping disadvantaged groups oppressed. Translation, after all, is a tool to bridge cultures; these labels only widen the divide.