Roger L. Simon recently had an epiphany. While reporting from the Durban II conference, he encountered the face of evil: President Ahmadinejad of Iran. He describes this encounter thus:
I heard screaming sirens followed by shrieking motor cycles when Ahmadinejad himself entered … and marched straight across the lobby in what seemed at the time like a goose step a few feet away from me, staring directly at me while waving and smiling in my direction.
I did not wave or smile back.
I couldn’t. Indeed, I was frozen. I felt suddenly breathless and nauseated, as if I had been kicked brutally in the stomach. I was also dizzy. I wanted to throw up. But no one had touched me and I hadn’t eaten anything for hours.
It was then, I think, that I found, or noticed, or understood, religion personally for a moment.
Here’s what I mean.
For most of my life I had rationalized the existence of bad people – or, more specifically, placed them in therapeutic categories. They were aberrant personalities, psychologically disturbed. It wasn’t that I thought better economic conditions or psychoanalysis or medication or whatever could fix everyone. I was long over that. Some people… serial killers, etc…. had to be locked away forever. They would never get better. But they were simply insane. That’s what they were.
Still… I had seen whacked murderers like Charles Manson, late OJ Simpson, up close and this wasn’t the same. This was more than the mental illness model. Far more. For one thing, I had never before had this intense physical sensation when confronted with another human being. Nor had I wanted to vomit. Not for Manson. Not for anyone. This was different.
It was almost unreal, like being in a movie, in a certain way. I know comparisons to Hitler are invidious, in fact usually absurd, but I was feeling the way I imagined I would have felt opposite Hitler.
I was in the presence of pure Evil.
In the seemingly seamless garment which is secular rationalism, there is no place for evil. Oh, to be sure, the word is flung about like sweat from a boxer’s well-placed uppercut — slathered and spit upon all who deviate from progressive secular orthodoxy. But true evil — that inexplicable behavior which chills the soul and touches that primal inner fear — finds no satisfactory solution in our modern world. The salve of psychology is oft applied — the perpetrators are invariably “loners”, “abused”, “neglected”, “rejected”, “oppressed”, or “victimized” — but the hatred which spawns such unspeakable actions cannot be so easily trivialized or dismissed. It rises up like a hideous ogre, demanding acknowledgment and rebuke — and yet we, in response, simply slap our banal therapeutic band-aids on while frantically averting our eyes to the never-ending distractions which numb the inner terror and allow us to move on, undisturbed, our materialistic narrative intact, unperturbed, and unchallenged.
But evil cannot be so easily confined to the therapist’s couch. Our shallow rationalism shoves evil into the overstuffed closet of the therapeutic, where irrationality, mental illness, and all forms of perplexing puzzles are placed, quickly bolting the door before it can escape. Yet evil is in its own way coldly rational, progressive, efficient: the years of planning behind a Columbine; the detailed protocols and meticulous records of Nazi medical experiments; the systematic efficiency of the Holocaust; the careful coordination of a Beslan. All these display, neither mental instability nor unhinged psychosis, but rather highly rational, intelligent, goal-directed purpose. If anything, evil is often more creative, more ingenious, more well-organized and executed than the pursuit of good. In the hard calculus of rational materialism, there is unspoken contempt for the foolishness of caring for the weak, protecting the vulnerable, elevating the dignity of the imperfect, nurturing the neglected.
When we envision evil, we evoke the ghastly: the school massacre, the genocide, the imprisonment and torture of political prisoners, the rape and abuse of children. But though we long to sequester our discomfort in the realm of the rare and horrible, evil will not be thus constrained. It is alive and well in the corporate boardroom, in the street gang, on the drug dealer’s corner, in the steamy affair which destroys a family. It reaches into every corner of our lives — though we struggle to deny and rationalize the monster as it draws nigh to our souls. Indeed, it dwells quite close to home, in the dark rooms of the mind, the dank cellars of the soul, in whispered desires and demons in the depths of the spirit. The newspaper headlines are but harbingers of the heart; what horrifies without dwells within, though hidden deep beneath denial and jaded self-justification. We are what we fear — and we tremble to acknowledge it.
Yet evil, for all its pervasiveness, does not stand alone as a distinct entity. Like one hand clapping, it is meaningless except in the context of a moral framework, a system of absolutes against which it is measured and found wanting. There can be no “evil” where there is no “good.” Yet our secular age ridicules such a position, rejecting the universal for the relative — we determine our own standards of good and evil, in harmony with our individual and cultural narrative, where the notion of truth is nothing more than an instrument of and a means to power. And thus we have no reference by which to comprehend and measure the phenomenon of evil. We know it when we see it — at least in its more egregious and hideous forms — yet have an inadequate and conflicted worldview with which to grasp it. Our evolutionary mindset should provide some cold comfort, as the prime directive of survival of the fittest predicts the destruction of the weak and the triumph of the strong — yet in our heart of hearts we know this to be foolish, and frightening, and fraught with incongruity — for we know we too are among the weak. The resulting cognitive dissonance leads to a pitiful and wholly inadequate response to the horrors which confront us almost daily. When a Columbine occurs, we immediately call in the counselors — when we should be crying out for the priests.
Our materialism and technology, and the secular relativism they have spawned, have given rise to the delusion that we may control the metaphysical just as we control the physical, through science and technology. Hence we each determine our own morality, deciding for ourselves what is right and wrong — a calculus which always favors ourselves over others. Yet in a reality based on transcendent absolutes, the consequences of their violation — evil — are just as inviolable as the laws of physics. We hope to bend the metaphysical to our wants and desires — and the results are entirely predictable. When evil results, we resort to the only tools in our arsenal: education, knowledge, psychology, sociology. Their inevitable failure at resolving the catastrophe only deepens the dilemma. Our cultural witch doctors dance and cant, shaking their shaman wands in fevered frenzy, hoping to drive off the demons with the magical sayings and sacred books of science and sociology. Yet the evil persists, empowered and enlarged by our enfeebled response.
C.S. Lewis, writing in The Abolition of Man, finds in our materialistic scientific mindset much of the magic of old:
There is something which unites magic and applied science while separating both from the wisdom of earlier ages. For the wise men of old, the cardinal problem had been how to conform the soul to reality, and the solution had been knowledge, self-discipline, and virtue. For magic and applied science alike, the problem is how to subdue reality to the wishes of men: the solution is a technique; and both, in the practice of this technique, are ready to do things hitherto regarded as disgusting and impious…
Evil is indeed real, and growing, and we are poorly equipped to grasp or grapple with it. It is a greedy demon whose goal is destruction and whose power is immense. We would be wise to seek the proper antidote lest its poison destroy us all. Our rare glimpses into the heart of darkness, as Roger L. Simon experienced, are a wake-up call we ignore at our peril.
34 comments so far ↓
Daily News About Books : A few links about Books - Sunday, 17 May 2009 23:15 // May 17, 2009 at 10:15 PM
[...] The Epiphany of Evil [...]
Art // May 18, 2009 at 4:02 AM
To imagine that the “tools in our arsenal: education, knowledge, psychology, sociology…” are sufficient to understand, confront and roll back evil is the height of arrogance for, as you imply, all are human-centric impulses towards self-sufficiency (which, by definition, is atheistic). Such instincts fail to take into account the only “proper antidote”… calling on and acknowledging the divinity of the One who conquered sin and death and evil by his death on a cross.
James // May 18, 2009 at 8:31 AM
Hi Dr,
I must admit that evil has a way of exposing the existence of God even more than good. I believe that you have expressed in the past your experience with “wine, woman and song” which eventually ended in finding God. Not an experience to be forgotten, I imagine.
Not having such an experience, I had to find it through a book. M. Scott Peck was someone I respected a great deal. His books (“People of the Lie”, “Road Less Traveled”, “World Waiting to be Born”) were an inspiration to me in many ways.
But near the end of his life he published “Glimpses of the Devil”, where he recounts his experience as an exorcist. He published the book 2 decades after the events took place, near the end of his life. Its as if he knew he would be dismissed if he wrote it, so had to wait until the end.
Still, given his past accomplishments, I couldn’t help but see the events as real, and his experiences as genuine – if somewhat misinformed. Its as if he wrote the book 20 years before publication, with his state of mind at the time, but never changed it later as his knowledge grew. Very honest of him, in a way.
James
John Ballard // May 18, 2009 at 1:00 PM
Here are a couple of links I put up a couple of years ago describing the Basiji army and Ahmadinezhad’s use of that embodiment of evil.
Matthias Küntzel on Iran and Germany (2005)
Children as cannon fodder, or “Who are the basiji?” (2006)
A couple of the links have gone inactive but most are still active, including one from Roger Simon.
It should be noted that the Basiji predated the election of Ahmadinezhad (2005), having been organized during the time of Kohmeini. (1979)
“In the past,†wrote the semi-official Iranian daily Ettela’at, “we had child-volunteers: 14-, 15-, and 16-year-olds. They went into the mine fields. Their eyes saw nothing. Their ears heard nothing. And then, a few moments later, one saw clouds of dust. When the dust had settled again, there was nothing more to be seen of them. Somewhere, widely scattered in the landscape, there lay scraps of burnt flesh and pieces of bone.†Such scenes could henceforth be avoided, Ettela’at assured its readers. “Before entering the mine fields, the children [now] wrap themselves in blankets and they roll on the ground, so that their body parts stay together after the explosion of the mines and one can carry them to the graves.”
The children who thus rolled to their deaths formed part of the mass “Basij†movement that was called into being by the Ayatollah Khomeini in 1979. The Basij Mostazafan – the “mobilization of the oppressed†– consisted of short-term volunteer militias. Most of the Basij members were not yet 18. They went enthusiastically and by the thousands to their own destruction. “The young men cleared the mines with their own bodies,†a veteran of the Iran-Iraq War has recalled, “It was sometimes like a race. Even without the commander’s orders, everyone wanted to be first.â€
[More at the LINK]
Your post is powerful. I don’t think most people have any notion how widespread and deeply embedded true evil exists in the world.
It helps to imagine that it is confined to a few evil leaders and a small clusters followers, but history indicates that evil has pandemic qualities worse than any disease that can infect whole populations in the human family.
retriever // May 18, 2009 at 2:38 PM
Great job, Dr. Bob. I think we ignore such powerful non-rational warnings from our bodies at our peril. I pay attention when I start feeling queasy or shaky near someone when I’m healthy. Not all of us encounter the “Great Evils” of our age, but we all come across people who similarly affect us. The difficulty is that we have largely disarmed ourselves by the desire not to be judgmental or profile or be shallow and act on appearances.
There was a good book (will go look for the link) on psychopaths who killed, some mass murderers, and how some people who met them were chilled and alarmed and skedaddled and were not harmed. But others were conned then killed.
I wonder if some of us are more attuned or if it is something we all have, but have socialized out of us?
It is curious that dogs can usually tell about a person. Although perhaps not (Hitler was loved by his dog ,supposedly ) But the other day, I was walking my young mutt on the beach and she started with a low throaty growl then vicious barks and teeth bared at a nice old man walking towards us. As he passed, I realized that he was NOT a nice old man. Muttering obscenities, frothing , filthy, drunk and leering at each woman he passed, and 6 foot 4 so would have been very dangerous had one been alone in a dark alley. I was glad my dog’s instincts were better than mine.
As for the big picture, I have given up on my liberal friends’ ability to understand the danger of evil. One of them (who should know better since her cousin was murdered on 9/11, burning in the towers,) argued that we should forgive the vile mastermind in the trial, and told me quite seriously that she thought it was unnecessary to have fought Hitler with military force, that peaceful methods would have worked better and involved less loss of life. Gaaaah.
Elisheva Levin // May 19, 2009 at 12:01 PM
The last comment brings up an important point.
Retriever, commenting on the musings of a friend, says that this person believes that “we should forgive” evil.
I have often heard the same sentiments about the 9/11 attacks, as well as about greater and lesser wrongs. Nothing makes me turn away in disgust more than when I, a Jew, am told that “you people should forgive the Nazis–after all it was a long time ago” (or similar statements).
As a Jew, I understand forgiveness in this way. When I wrong someone, it is my job to turn myself around, to repent. I must understand the wrong I did, how it affected the other person and myself, make it right to extent possible, and vow not to do it again. Then, and only then, may I approach the person I wronged and beg forgiveness. And I may not approach the Eternal until I have asked forgiveness and received it, unless I have done all of these things, and been rejected three times. Because, as a Jew, I understand that for sins against the Eternal, the Day of Atonement atones, but for sins against others, one must make it right with them first.
I understand forgiveness to follow from repentence, and I see repentence as more than momentary shame or regret; it involves a repairing the breech and striving not to do the same bad thing again.
And neither is the wronged person obligated to forgive; it is an act of gracious acknowledgment of the will to evil that exists in all of us, due to our free will. Forgiveness is a response to repentence and to the human condition. It requires the presense of genuine goodness.
So how can I, who was never wronged, grant forgiveness to those who deliberately, cold-bloodedly, murdered others, and who, for the most part, never repented? They are, from my theologicial standpoint, in a world of eternal hurt–they killed their victims, and thus cannot beg their forgiveness. This is what makes murder such an aweful sin.
I must say that I do not understand the move to premature forgiveness that is so prominent in much of Christian reasoning. It seems to excuse evil, rather than acknowledge it, and demand accounting and repentence. It would be interesting to hear your take on this.
retriever // May 19, 2009 at 1:02 PM
Elisheva, you might like this, from Bonhoeffer’s “The Cost of Discipleship”:
“Cheap grace is the preaching of forgiveness without requiring repentance, baptism without church discipline, Communion without confession, absolution without personal confession. Cheap grace is grace without discipleship..”
Also, Assistant Village Idiot http://assistantvillageidiot.blogspot.com/ posted a couple of great Elie Wiesel quotes this week and some comment on when violence is the appropriate response to evil, and how some of the religious responded to the Nazis. You have to scroll down as the posts aren’t on separate pages.
I agree with what you wrote, wholeheartedly. I worked at one point with abused kids who were sometimes wracked by guilt that they could not be “good” Christians and forgive their abusers. I used to just tell them: let God take care of forgiving or fricasseeing them, your job is to recover and get on with your life, and to the extent that saying you are done with it kicks that person out of your head, do it, but don’t berate yourself for still being angry, upset, and scared. And, frankly, I hate the guy for hurting you.”
Forgiveness can be healing when it releases the hold a victimizer had on a person, but enforced forgiveness or premature forgiveness is just another torment for some.
Interestingly, many of the same people who wax lyrical about being forgiving of terrorists, also make excuses for and emote sympathetically about the child molesting choir director my kids sang with for eight years. It doesn’t matter that they were safe from his perverse behavior. Other kids were not (he brought child prostitutes to the church buildings to have sex with them). My position was “Lock him up until he has been on DepoProvera or had an operation so that he never bothers another kid again, then a few more years for punishment and to meditate on his sins. Forgive him after he has made some kind of restitution to the people he harmed, and shown genuine repentance.”
John Ballard // May 19, 2009 at 2:36 PM
Good comments, these last two. I especially like Forgiveness can be healing when it releases the hold a victimizer had on a person, but enforced forgiveness or premature forgiveness is just another torment for some.
I was once one of two victims of an armed robbery during which four armed perpetrators held my chef and me at gunpoint as I opened a safe. Fortunately neither of us was shot, but when you have a pistol at your temple being held by a jumpy criminal your mind works very fast. Oddly enough, one of the questions I decided during those few moments was whether or not I could forgive those four armed men, especially the punk making threatening remarks like “Hurry up or I’m gonna shoot the fat guy…”
My conclusion was that as a Christian I could forgive him, and the others, but I felt no responsibility to protect him from the consequences of any civil, criminal or legal penalties that might come his way as the result of his behavior. In fact, he didn’t even need to repent or to know of my forgiveness. Had he killed me on the spot I could have gone to my reward knowing I had passed the “forgiveness” test.
Afterward I had to cleanse myself of the regret I felt that they got away and there was no one there to kill their sorry butts, but that is part of the aftermath, I suppose. It made it easier, when I later became eligible, to take an early retirement from food management for another line of work.
Art // May 20, 2009 at 5:09 AM
Re. Elisheva’s questions, among others…
True forgiveness, as I understand it (and I don’t claim to be very good at doing it under my own power!) precedes repentance on the part of the perpetrator, much less any outwardly visible, credible evidence of such repentance (e.g., see Pauls’ admonition in Romans 5:8: “but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”).
It’s the very definition of divine grace. I don’t claim it’s easy (or easy to understand) but that’s the way God does it and so it’s what we are called to do also.
Unfortunately, as several commenters have pointed out, that core idea has been widely perverted to imply that, in the act of forgiveness (e.g., praying for our enemies) we are somehow giving up any claim to eternal, fixed standards for good and evil… for right and wrong… that forgiveness is tantamount to forgetting and that all natural consequences or claims to justice (e.g., jail) are erased once someone is forgiven. Not so!
One of the biggest mysteries/paradoxes of the gospel is that those standards don’t ever change… there will be ultimate justice and yet… forgiveness of unforgiveable people (giving them a chance to voluntarily grab onto God’s infinite grace as offered in Christ) is inherent in God’s character.
Forgiveness of another is at least as much about God wanting us to be released from our own persistent hurt at seeing another person commit evil as it is about changing that person (which may never happen, whether we forgive them or not).
Elisheva Levin // May 20, 2009 at 10:21 AM
Interesting responses.
According to Retriever (and Bonhoffer), in Christianity, forgiveness requires repentance, but according to Art, it precedes it. Perhaps according to this theology there is a difference between Divine and human forgiveness. Looks like there are different doctrines at work here? Or does normative Christianity have the same doctrines across denominations, but interpretations differ?
Judaism is very clear. G-d is both just and merciful, but a person must repent prior to asking the very human wronged person for forgiveness. Perhaps this is because it is necessary to repent in order to be able to sincerely ask forgiveness?
In any case, I don’t waste a lot of time trying to forgive Hitler and his willing executioners. If they were not dead (for the most part), I would demand justice for the murder of my people. There are material consequences to evil actions in the world.
And Retriever, I agree with you wholeheartedly. A life well-lived is the best revenge. I phrase it this way: We are still here.
Art // May 20, 2009 at 12:01 PM
Elisheva, there is less conflict here than meets the eye. I would not set myself up against Bonhoffer, much less the One True God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob! :)
The distinction between divine and human forgiveness is important in resolving this. Naturally we are unable to rise all the way to His inscrutable and often gut-wrenchingly difficult standard. That does not mean we aren’t called to try.
Since, in comparison to Him, we’re terrible judges of others’ hearts (i.e., motivations, hidden wounds, mitigating circumstances, etc.), we will often get it wrong — in both directions. Thus, in knowing in advance that we’re going to err in our efforts at forgiveness, we’re called to err on the ‘stupid’/naive side rather than the assumptive side (i.e., failing to forgive those who are fully righteous and have earned our forgiveness).
All of this rests on three assumptions: 1) that God can fix any wrong, in the end, 2) that God is omnipotent (outside time; seeing hearts, controlling evil, etc.) and that, 3) God is infinitely good and loving and has our best long-term interests in hand far better than we do, even when just the opposite seems to be true.
Tossing this up against the Hitler example is always incredibly difficult (sorta like trying the triple-black-diamond ski run with terrain ‘features’ at night in a snowstorm; few can do it… or understand WHY they’re doing it!) :)
I highly recommend a ‘classic’ book by the late Corrie Ten Boom called “The Hiding Place” through which God spoke to me powerfully and with shocking directness (long story).
She was a Christian, living in Nazi-occupied Holland (as did my in-laws). Her family hid Jews in their home until they were caught. They read Hebrew scriptures and worshiped together. She spent time suffering in the camps, witnessing to all of those horrors and losing every one of her relatives there. Her radical message: total forgiveness. If you ever get a chance to hear one of her lectures on tape, I guarantee you will be riveted.
John Ballard // May 20, 2009 at 12:18 PM
We Americans love to speak of matters “Judeo-Christian” as though core values of both traditions were somehow identical. Different models of the same make, as it were. But one of the historic differences has been their two different responses to evil. The historic Jewish response if to relieve, overcome, eliminate or destroy evil or, failing that, to distance one’s self from evil as far as possible. At bottom, the Christian response to evil (ideally) is to confront and overcome it by love or, failing that, face it in faith, with no resistance, even to death. The early church had many martyrs. Only after Constantine militarized the church did Christians replace Paul’s symbolic armor of faith with literal armor. Until then the example of Jesus Himself was the only role model.
Forgiveness puzzled into the two approaches with Christians seeking forgiveness, not only from God, but among themselves. (“…as we forgive those who trespass against us.”) Jews, on the other hand, leave judgment and forgiveness up to Jehovah. Men are charged to do justice, love Mercy, and walk humbly with God but the forgiveness of evil is a Divine responsibility, beyond man’s authority.
Part of the challenge to peace in the Levant is that none of the players has a tradition of reconciliation. Christianity would be the likely interlocutor, but the centuries seem to have dulled the effectiveness of unconditional love. Even most of our missionaries expected a quid pro quo in return for being received into the faith. We now regard anyone seriously looking for reconciliation as a hopeless idealist, out of touch with a reality defined more by evil than good.
I agree with Elishiva that the best revenge (the dark side of forgiveness, you know) is a life well-lived. No better amelioration of evil than that.
Webutante // May 20, 2009 at 2:41 PM
Rare glimpses? While this is a wonderful post, I have to say, Bob, you seem to treat evil as a projection. While that’s a first step in an ephiphany of realizing evil for the first time, as Roger has, after a lifetime of relative morality, it is only a first step. Hopefully many are to follow, such as being to take on the projections and see the evil in our own hearts. Christians call is the work of repentance.
And in case you only implied it, evil cuts through every human heart—that means you and me and everyone. To wit:
“If only there were evil people out there insidiously committing evil deeds, and it were necessary only to separate them form the rest of us and destroy them. But the line dividing them cuts through the heart of every human being, and who is willing to destroy his own heart?”
—Alexander Solzhenitzen
There’s more, much more, but I have to say you’re talking about ignoring rare instances of evil seems to miss Solxhenitzen’s point and the true element of evil dwelling in every human heart. There’s only one cure, repenting to Christ and allowing the forgiveness to cleanse and change our silly, selfish, self-righteous hearts.
retriever // May 20, 2009 at 2:52 PM
JB, there was much criticism levelled at aspects of Bonhoeffer’s theology for precisely the reasons you described: The Christian mainstream view that we love because He first loved us, that good works are done not to earn salvation, but done out of gratitude for unmerited forgiveness.
When one warns against cheap grace, then, one is liable to be accused of heresy. This has happened to me when I have argued for long prison sentences for child molesters and my friends tell me I am unforgiving and a bad Christian.
It helps, as you and others have noted, to distinguish between divine forgiveness and human forgiveness.
I tend to agree with Elisheva that it is presumptuous and hateful to forgive harm done to others. A duty, or at least a goal when the damage done is to oneself. But when one isn’t the one harmed, how dare one tell the sinning violent person they are forgiven?? It’s a bit like showing how virtuous you are (as a politician) by taxing people and spending their money, to show how generous and caring YOU are.
I tend to think that certain kinds of reconciliation are still impossible in this fallen world. For example, you can’t do anything with Somali warlords or Idi Amin’s raping armies except defeat and disarm them, if necessary killing many of them. Or the vile British teenaged gangs attacking people and making cellphone videos of their rampage. They belong in jail. Or child molesters. Or shameless insider traders.
Because we are sinners, despite being redeemed by God, our world is still brutal. Pacifism, for example, cannot halt some of the evil things going on in the world. On a small scale, when I see someone whacking their kid or their dog in the street, I go up and make them stop. If they hit me, so be it. The thing is to stop the child or the animal being brutalized. One doesn’t want to order someone about or bellow, or even slap them to get their attention away from their victim so the kid can escape. But sometimes one has to.
John Ballard // May 20, 2009 at 4:56 PM
For those who believe in coincidence here’s another one. I have been tracking a bunch of Mennonite young people for some time.
Today’s post at Young Anabaptist Radicals addresses this very question in contemporary terms.
A few years ago when talking with a Caribbean friend about pacifism. What if refusing to use violence meant not just your death as an individual, but the death of your entire people and culture? He told me with the story of the TaÃnos, who were among the first to meet Colombus and welcomed him with gifts and open arms. For loving their enemy, they had the honor of being the first indigenous American culture to be made extinct by the Spanish through a combination of disease and having their hands cut off for not meeting gold quotas set by Columbus. Is this what Jesus had in mind?
The story in Massachusetts Bay colony is more complex, but no less challenging to us as Christian pacifists. Massasoit’s decision to form an alliance with the Pilgrims was not simply the act of a noble man with good heart. It was a calculated political move driven by his people’s need for allies against rival tribes in the face of devastation by disease. The alliance was strengthened by cross-cultural relationship building and trade on both sides over the first few years. Both sides benefited from peace. So far, so Mennonite morality tale.
However, as the colonists grew in number, they became less reliant on the Wampanoag and more interested in their land. Their towns grew quickly with immigrants from England and they gradually pushed the Wampanoag into smaller and smaller pieces of land. Sound familiar? Its the process that settlers in the West bank are attempting to use on villagers in At-Tuwani today.
More at the links, but that’s enough salt to toss into one comment thread. I hate when a conversation starts drifting into the philosophical ether. I like to relate with stuff that’s happening today.
BTW, while we’re keeping inventory of evils, I just this afternoon learned of one new to me. Retreiver’s mention of insider traders reminded me of it: “janitor insurance.” A few years ago companies were found to be taking out life insurance policies on their employees, apparently without the employees’ knowledge, with the company trust officers named as beneficiaries. When the employees eventually died (now that’s what I call a sure thing) the policy paid off to the company which used them in a tax-dodge maneuver to compensate executives! Legislation was passed making this kind of thing illegal, but (are you ready for this) the banking industry found a loophole! Hold your nose and go to this link from yesterday’s Wall Street Journal.
Webutante is spot on. The true element of evil dwells in every human heart. I have to remind myself as we speak of evils that there but for God’s grace go I. Dr. Bob’s central point about shunning “secular relativism” and calling out counselors when we have more need for priests is well-taken. It’s not easy to find the plumb line in an earthquake, but still we must never stop trying.
Elisheva Levin // May 21, 2009 at 11:45 AM
Art: Years ago I saw the movie about Corrie ten Boom. In my (Jewish) view, Corrie could forgive those that wronged her personally because she was a victim of their evil. But it would be wrong of me to forgive such evil as the Nazi’s did, for I would be presuming to speak for the dead and injured. It is up to such Nazis as are left to repent and ask for forgiveness of those they harmed who are left. However, I would not hold my breath. If you consider the court transcipts of the trial of the more infamous Nazis, you will find that most of them rationalized and justified what they did in the name of their beliefs. As Doctor is In stated in the original post–these men were not crazy, they were not “just following orders”, they believed they were justified to commit genocide. The same may or may not be true of their lackeys in the SS and among the Einsatzgruppen.
John Ballard: Pardon me, but the word “Jehovah” is a made-up word. It was invented by German Bible scholars, who upon reading Hebrew pointed text, were confused by the diacritical marks for the word “Adonai” applied to the unpronouncible Tetragrammaton. It was pointed this way to remind the one chanting Torah to chant “Adonai” instead of pronouncing the Name; or, since the Name is a play on the root “to be”, it would be a natural mistake to try to chant the future present tense verb. I understand that this German confusion led, in a roundabout way, to the name of a Christian sect. The ironies of history abound!
And forgive me again for pointing it out, but Jews do have a tradition of reconciliation. However, we also have a tradition of personal responsibility as well; by saying so, I am not implying that Christianity does not have the same. It looks to me, from my admittedly limited experience, that certain forms of Christianity may not? Or that there is dispute among the sects about how this works with other Christian doctrine?
In any case, the formula is this for Judaism: “For sins against the Almighty, the Day of Atonement atones, but for sins against another person, it does not atone.” This leaves it up to individuals to make atonement with one another, thus achieving reconciliation with one another. But also: “The gates of prayer are at times, open, and at times, closed; but the gates of repentence are always open.”
We do believe in confronting evil, as well as to “relieve, overcome, and destroy it.” However, atonement by the sacrifice of good to evil is not a Jewish idea. The confrontation with evil is active resistance, in which one might lose one’s life, but that death is to be resisted as far as possible without committing evil oneself. This is definitely a great difference between Judaism and Christianity.
And Judaism has many martyrs as well; from the Ten Martyrs of Roman times, the Jews of the Rhineland during the Crusades (when 1/3 of the Jewish population were murdered by Christians who were on their way to war with Islam), the expulsion from Spain and the Inquisition, the Pogroms of Eastern Europe, and in the last, bloody century, to the Six Million turned to ashes above Europe. We remember them all.
Finally, and this is not an accusation, but an observation: American or western Christianity cannot be an interlocutor in the Middle East for two reasons:
1) Christianity also has the blood of both Jews and Moslems on its (figurative) hands from the Crusades and European persecutions;
2) It is easy to let others be first in line to “face (evil) in faith, with no resistance, even to death”, as Europe and America seem wont to do, as they negotiate with Achmadinajad in regard to the Iranian nuclear capablities.
It is a fine thing for President Obama to lecture Bibi Netanyahu, making moral equivalencies, as the world turns inevitably toward a war for the 13th Imam and the Caliphate. To take a page from the Other Testament: They cry peace, peace when there is no peace.
Israel’s population, which comprises half of the Jews left in the entire world, is on the front lines. And clearly, just as in Europe, they are expendable.
Assistant Village Idiot // May 21, 2009 at 5:34 PM
Wonderful comments here, and thank you to retriever for steering people to my blog.
I apologise for being scattered, but you guys have just touched on too many good topics here.
Forgiveness of Nazis. That seems rather distant to me, even though I read a great deal of Holocaust and Eastern European history. I don’t think I’m called to sing that song. Crimes against humanity are horrifying and we wish to stop them and consequate them, but I can really only forgive an evil done to me.
Forgiveness is not a feeling of goodwill or wishing cakes and ale for others, but a decision to not hold their sin against them in any material way. I have a person who treated me badly for years. Forgiveness does not mean claiming that what she did was good, or no problem, but in not rising to punish her and take revenge whenever her name is brought up, as I did for years.
Not that I always succeed. Forgiveness is an ongoing act, and I might forego revenge ten times and still take revenge on the eleventh.
God’s forgiveness is often described, both OT and NT, as not holding a person’s sin against them – of putting it out of His sight. This is not the same as approving of it, or removing consequences. CS Lewis tackles the problem by looking at how we treat ourselves when we sin. We still feed ourselves, care for ourselves – but we might feel we fully deserve consequences or punishment. In an extreme, we might feel we deserve to be hanged for what we have done. So too for our attitude to others. We might believe they deserve punishment, and certainly deserve to be made to understand, yet still feed them, pray for them. The two attitudes are not incompatible. Bringing up children gives us a flavor of this.
Elisheva’s reference to reconciliation is apropos, though this is slightly different. I do what is in my power to offer reconciliation, but to actually get to reconciliation might still require telling my enemy quite firmly what I believe was wrong. And my emotions may be so strong against them that I am only able to manage scraps of forgiveness. But reconciliation is indeed the goal.
And as Lewis said, it is better to start with the small sins of those near us than the great sins of those far away. The latter is mostly an illusion of forgiveness.
Next up: M Scott Peck defined evil as malignant narcissism in his People of the Lie. I think that can apply to an Ahmadinejad, but it has an intensity in tyrants we are unused to experiencing. Dictators grow in narcissism (as do cult leaders, or just about anyone who is unaccountable) until they are nearly unrecognisable as human beings. But Solzhenitsyn is also right. Were we given such power, with so many fawning over us and puffing us up, we might become very similar. The kernel of that evil is indeed within us, but most of us are fortunate enough to live in circumstances which check our narcissism rather than encourage it. In tyrants, that kernel has been allowed to grow unchecked, and so consumes the person who once inhabited the body. We smaller folk may be made of no better stuff, but by training, grace, and the force of reality avoid becoming such horrors.
Assistant Village Idiot // May 21, 2009 at 5:40 PM
Oops. Small correction Elisheva. The Crusades lasted for 1000 years, and Western European Christianity was on defense for 950 of them. The Romanians and Bulgarians remember what we have forgotten. The Jews may have legitimate complaint against many tribes of Christians, but the Moslems are self-deceptive when they claim it. What we call the Crusades were a forgotten part of Arab history, a small sideshow in their own competitive wars with each other, or minor setbacks in their centuries of attempted conquest. They didn’t even mention them until they came to study in the West in the 19th C, read our histories, and realised that they were considered major villains.
John Ballard // May 21, 2009 at 5:48 PM
Elisheva,
Thank you for your thoughtful and insightful reply. I’m sorry for speaking so carelessly and stand corrected on all points.
I knew about that “Jehovah” business, but it’s been in use for so long it’s like fortune cookies to Chinese food. I understand they never heard of such things in China. As you pointed out, what else would Jehovah’s Witnesses call themselves?
My mention of early Christian martyrs was to underscore that feature of the early church, not to earn extra points. In the matter of martyrs Jews may have every other group in history outnumbered for sure. And you’re right to point out that historically Christians do have blood on our hands. But I do wish there were some way to advance a solution to the Israel-Palestinian conflict.
…Jews do have a tradition of reconciliation. However, we also have a tradition of personal responsibility as well; by saying so, I am not implying that Christianity does not have the same. It looks to me, from my admittedly limited experience, that certain forms of Christianity may not? Or that there is dispute among the sects about how this works with other Christian doctrine?
Touché.
Pot. Kettle.
Very neatly done.
Elisheva Levin // May 21, 2009 at 7:45 PM
Ass. Village Wiseperson (I really cannot call such an intelligent writer an idiot, though I enjoy the humor):
Yes, certainly Islam fought wars with one another from the time following Mohammed’s death until now. As Christianity did in the early years, and as Israel did early on–and probably still would if we didn’t have other, more pressing problems. When I refer to the Crusades, though, I am seeing through the lens of Jewish history, which has the same location but different events than the European mainstream version. They say history is written by the victors. Jews believe it is remembered by the survivors. And quite stubbornly, too.
I have not forgotten that if Christendom had not won at the gates of Vienna, history would be different. Oddly enough though, when Jews were expelled from England and France and later, Spain (following the Reconquista), it was places like Greece and Bulgaria that gave refuge, as well as North Africa. And Holland.
John Ballard: Your first statement was right, Christianity and Judaism are related and share many ideas (far more so than Islam is to either), and both are Western in outlook and values, but there are fundamental differences. And I appreciate that you said this, because there is nothing quite so dismissive as the claim that they are just alike, which removes from Jews our identity, since we are in Christian culture but not of it.
Now, two questions: 1) Why are so many Christians in the United States so willing to dismiss evil and dismiss also justice? (And I know this is not a description of you or Doc is In, or of the others here). What I mean is, that what Doc said originally makes sense for secular materialists, but what about the others?
2) How does Christianity deal with the European “teaching of contempt” for Judaism that did contribute to what Jews recall as the European Nightmare: Crusades, Inquisition, Holocaust?
This last is not an easily dissected problem, because Christianity is not monolithic, and in different places in Europe, Churches of the same denomination acted quite differently. Nevertheless, there is a sense among Jews that there ought to be some kind of institutional response to that 1,000 year teaching of contempt. And yet to me, it seems wrong to blame Christianity wholesale, although I completely understand when Holocaust survivors do.
And of course, this question also cuts to the heart of how do we all answer for the evils our institutions have done? We often bear little or no personal responsibility and yet we all feel sullied by what is/was done in our names. This is an especially thorny problem for people who were not even born when the evil occured. They are certainly innocent in that regard, and yet are made to bear the burden by inheritance. This is wrong on the personal level, and yet there is some kind of institutional evil (if you will) that darkens the present.
So how does Christianity deal with it normatively?
This has been a fascinating discussion.
John Ballard // May 22, 2009 at 4:02 AM
…how do we all answer for the evils our institutions have done?
Elisheva, I’m so glad you said “our.” The phenomenon seems to be endemic to all mankind, doesn’t it?
It is a critical question that has nagged me all my life. I got politicized in my developmental years (Deep South during the civil rights era, Vietnam, etc.) by the contradictions between what Christians claimed to believe and how they (we) behaved. Even now I live among serious Christians who believe in their hearts that the presidency of George W. Bush was the result of Divine Providence. And this morning I’m listening closely to hear what language Christians will find in defense of torture. I remain Christian by default, embarrassed by those contradictions, clinging to the notion that Jesus and His teachings define for me the template I must follow as best I can.
I’m sure you know of Messianic Jews whose faith has a Christian amendment. Our two faiths do have more in common than not. I like their conciliatory statement about the coming of the Messiah: “Let us wait together for his final coming, and when he gets here we’ll ask if he’s been here before.”
Assistant Village Idiot // May 22, 2009 at 2:21 PM
The good and evil of all institutions of the West are not separable from Christianity. As the dominant faith of Western culture, there really isn’t a corner of science, government, art, or literature that is not suffused with it. This makes it difficult to assign credit or blame for anything in our common history. Astronomy, the Inquisition, slavery, representative government, migration, prosperity, technology – all of these have Christian fingerprints.
There is a significant Jewish contribution to all this despite their small numbers. Teasing that out is also difficult, as they operated in a Christian culture, and many of their contributions were by secular Jews (Spinoza, Marx, Freud). Still, it doesn’t take much knowledge of history to see that their contributions were disproportionately high.
This is a bland generality, perhaps, but a caution that needs to be inserted in any historical discussion of Christianity. We may try and paint all the good as specifically Christian, or we may slant the news the other way and trace all evils back to the church. Either way we are pretty much picking and choosing our data to support our claim.
This is a much more intelligent and gracious discussion than what is happening over at my site, BTW. Thanks.
John, I certainly know Christians who fit the complaint you laid down, but I get a queasy feeling that you are lumping those who disagree with you in an oversimplified category. I am certainly quite grateful that George Bush was president rather than the alternatives. Whether that was a divine providence seems a large claim, difficult to support – but also difficult to attack for the same reasons. As to torture, in current political discussion it seems to be becoming an emotive rather than clarifying word. I have no expert opinion on what crosses lines and what doesn’t, despite having read many opinions. We come here to the same wall found in the original post and the earliest comments. There seem to be some things, even some people, who are a great and intense evil. How do we, who have at least some evil dividing our hearts, make decisions and deal with injustice?
John Ballard // May 23, 2009 at 5:11 AM
…I get a queasy feeling that you are lumping those who disagree with you in an oversimplified category.
I suppose that calls for some kind of response.
After sleeping on it I have decided you are correct. Aside from the tautology that all who disagree with me are, in fact, that subset of people who “disagree with me” I admit to a certain character stain causing me to project unfair, even mean and unjustified conclusions on other people, not evidence-based other than they may have said or done something that pushes one of my several buttons.
We all know personally (and are quick to self-forgive) about flashes of road rage, or misjudgments about new neighbors until we learn that just because they have a dog that poops in our yard they really aren’t bad people.
But I sense that’s not the kind of “oversimplified” that was meant. And I recognize that at a deeper level it holds true as well. I plead guilty to looking at whole congregations and assemblies cheering and applauding, concluding unfairly I’m sure, that they ALL are in agreement about that ovation. (Notre Dame last week?) I tend to forget that in similar circumstances I myself have joined a standing ovation, not because I was moved, but because I lacked the courage to remain seated. That’s what Pogo meant when he said “We have met the enemy and he is us.”
So don’t feel “queasy.” When I think about how often I disagree with myself it makes me queasy as well.
When I read the word “liberal” used as an expletive (as in “…given up on my liberal friends…”) I remind myself that used in that manner it was not meant to malign me as an individual, just as when I use a generalization not intended for all particular cases I don’t aim literally to include everyone. So if I inadvertently hit a nerve, I’m sorry.
And that is not meant as a rhetorical apology. I really do believe that we can “disagree without being disagreeable.” We owe it to ourselves and the next generations not to do otherwise.
Assistant Village Idiot // May 23, 2009 at 7:53 AM
Well said. You’re a better man than I, then. I believe in disagreeing forcefully but affectionately, as our idealised image of the Inklings would suggest.
An interesting question, which you may be well positioned to answer: you mentioned using “liberal” as an expletive. I try to use the word simply as a descriptor, an opposite of “conservative.” I find that when I do, people (my liberal relatives in particular) react badly to it, as if I am some yahoo ranting about libruls. I accept that words take on new connotations, and there certainly are people who use the word as an expletive. Yet I feel constrained in this. I have switched to using “progressive” in many circumstances (though I find many of the ideas quite re-gressive – such is the irony of many social labels), but the two are not an exact match. Sometimes “liberal” is simply the better label, particularly when discussing ideas in historical perspective over the last five decades. The use of the word “left” produces similar stiffened reactions, and as some people make Very Sharp Distinctions between the meaning of “left” and “liberal,” there is considerable loss of precision.
Somehow, when a conservative uses the word liberal in any context, it is heard as “librul”. It seems to be heard as the counterpart to “reactionary” or even “fascist” rather than as a fairly neutral term. It is as if some sneering tone of voice is now assumed. That is only partly true in the other direction. There are certainly those who automatically deliver the word “conservative” with a sneer, but that word retains more of its simple descriptive nature. Whole symphonies of underlying meaning are not heard when that single note is played.
I can rail against the limitation placed on me – that people hear what I in no way intend and leave me no good alternative – but I am also not going to change public perception.
So I seek your advice, as one who seems to hear the offensive undertones of the word but also seems able to not assume ill-will on my part. What phrasing should I use? My desire is to discuss and persuade, not clutter up communication by giving unintended offense. If I must cease using the word “liberal” because it will forever be heard as “librul,” what should I switch to?
John Ballard // May 23, 2009 at 9:31 AM
It’s not just your prickly relatives. It’s probably all of us. “Liberal” is the new “Nigger.” When I use it, it’s okay, but when a non-liberals use it there is no way they can feel how it sounds. I think it’s the result of three or four decades of getting beat up. (Yes, that includes the Clintons who, probably for political survival, got all sotto voce about liberal values when push came to shove.) Occasionally I even see liberal/progressive writers make oblique affectionate reference to themselves and their buddies as “dirty fuckin’ hippies.”I rarely use the word progressive because it strikes me as a cop-out. For those of us unreconstructed old relics of the Sixties for whom “liberal” was a compliment, “progressive” comes across as too apologetic.
All that said, my way through the mess is to avoid using political taxonomy labels as little as possible… unless I’m trying to underscore a point or being outright snarky, in which case my meaning and inference should be unmistakable. That may be my brand of your “forceful but affectionate” with the affectionate part something like the silent letter in ptomaine.
Readers who are still with us may think the comment thread is now drifting waaay off the mark. We’re supposed to be discussing evil in its most toxic forms and seem to have gone off task. I suggest otherwise. By seeking to understand one another at the micro level we form a basis for understanding at the macro level. That was one reason for my early enthusiasm for No-drama Obama who seems to enjoy testing his calmness by walking into one lions den after another.
Disclaimer: I don’t want that remark to be misinterpreted to suggest we can discuss our way to peace in a world riddled by conflict between true evil and its victims. I am suggesting, however, that we tend to jump to the putative extremes of conflicts before seeking alternatives that may avert or ameliorate those extremes.
**========**
For me this is a Memorial Day weekend pleasure, taking part in a satisfying conversation with intelligent people. There may only be two or three of us, but that is more than I usually find. I’m gonna have to add your site to my aggregator.
Elisheva Levin // May 23, 2009 at 10:08 AM
Ah, the political terminology. Nothing is so guarranteed to raise hackles these days.
I identify myself as a small “l” libertarian. And no, I don’t want to fight over how many such it takes to screw in a light bulb, thank you very much!
Recently, in a group of newly awakened patriots, I suggested that using the term “conservative” three times in the mission statement was only going to be divisive and that I can, and do, argue that the values we are talking about are American. My proposal technically won the vote, but succeeded only in dividing the group nearly in half, and thus I withdrew it.
I was then corned by a very passionate conservative who wanted to argue that I am “really” a conservative, which reminded me very much of the liberal (sorry–there’s that word!) Catholics who argue that Jews are “really” Christians by another name. Ugh.
I do not like the left-right spectrum, either, as it is descriptive of the French Revolution (very bloody, that) and not so much of the United States.
The word progressive very much describes the political and intellectual roots of the current Democratic leadership, although I seriously doubt that most people who claim the term really know the ideas it represented 100 years ago. They might want to read up on Woodrow Wilson and his version of the Alien and Sedition Acts, as well as the Eugenics movement before they apply the term to themselves.
And back to the term liberal, it mean(s)(t) something very different in Europe than it has come to mean in the United States. Our founders would have considered themselves liberal, but the current liberal Democrats have a very different idea about what it means than they did.
I guess the best thing to do is apply such labels sparingly, and to define terms, thus leaving room for people to determine what is meant in the discussion.
Oh! I almost forgot: the answer is none. In a libertarian society, all lightbulbs would take responsibility for themselves. (It’s a joke we tell on ourselves. You can laugh without being arrested by the PC police!).
Assistant Village Idiot // May 23, 2009 at 2:52 PM
You are right, of course, that the labels often obscure rather than explicate meaning. Ironically, however, I find that those who advocate dropping them usually fall into two categories: libertarians who want the statist/autonomy divide to be more in the public consciousness, and the fuzzier type of liberal who seizes on the occasional contradiction in an effort to avoid all clarity. John seems to fit neither category, so I will follow with attention.
What, then, do I call one who believes that government management of say, an economy is less dangerous (or more equitable) than a free market? This root idea is behind much environmentalism, education funding, and health-insurance advocacy as well. In theology, “liberal” once meant “not literalist,” but now carries much of the political and social meaning instead.
You are free to rephrase or reconstruct that difference I am describing. There are other philosophical divides as well. But they do tend to congregate and rather cry out for a label in order to discuss the larger ideas beneath rather than the specifics of this legislation or that. There seem to be foundational assumptions that are different.
Interesting that you should perceive liberals as being beat up, as my experience moves in the opposite direction. I was a mild socialist in the 60′s and 70′s – certainly and proudly a liberal – who left that tribe because of my growing discomfort with the way they privately, and then more publicly, referred to their political opponents. Because I an a social worker, and thus assumed to be fairly left-of-center in all my work contacts, I can assure you that jaw-dropping insulting references are still quite common among social workers, psychologists, psychiatrists, and the like, at least in New England. They don’t realise I am in the category they are disdaining, and so speak freely.
I am only partly at home among conservatives and libertarians and refer to myself as Postliberal.
John Ballard // May 23, 2009 at 5:08 PM
What, then, do I call one who believes that government management of [whatever] is less dangerous (or more equitable) than a free market?
That’s a tough assignment. The question triggers a rash of responses in me.
For starters, I have a hard time balancing “government management” on one side with “free market” on the other with a danger/safety needle mounted on the see-saw. The image has a Rube Goldberg quality about it. I hat it when talk show hosts play word games with callers but in this case I really do have a hard time with the words. Government, free market, management, dangerous and equitable are all perfectly good words but unless you and I first agree on a few more basic ideas using them can lay a trap for misunderstanding. And this is more than just the old tuh-may-toe/tuh-mah-toe difference.
I could talk all day about confusing labels and words. Here are some lines….
“That government is best that governs least.” Thomas Payne, Thomas Jefferson or Henry David Thoreau – take your pick and try to figure out where the politics lies (I just Googled it for curiosity).
“Conservative — someone enamored of existing evils, as opposed to Liberal who wishes to replace them with new ones.”Ambrose Bierce.
“A Libertarian believes that government is a dangerous servant and a fearful master.A Conservative believes this time it will be different.” I don’t know who said it but I picked it up last week from a curmudgeonly blogger who seems to wave both flags, posts at a site called Classical Values and advocated drug legalization.
I like how Elisheva dipped into the thread to talk about small “l” libertarians.
I think all of us get a little prissy when it comes to labels. It seems to be part of the human genome to seek some kind of group identification. Maybe it has to do with forming tribes or packs. I don’t really know. Moreover I know I’m as guilty as anyone else. When I come to Dr.Bob’s place I know I’m like a Protestant in a Roman Catholic church. I’m welcome to be here but better not expect to receive communion. Same is true of many places I go on on the web because whether I’m surfing or going to a site I don’t know much about my head is in two places at once. On the one hand I’m seeking new information to be better informed, but I can’t escape a kind of cognitive dissonance, the kind someone has after taking delivery of a new car. Even though it’s too late to reverse the decision (let’s face it… once you take delivery you’re the owner of a no longer new car) you still want confirmation you made the right deal… didn’t pay too much, didn’t overlook that other model, got an option that will piss off your wife, etc.
Is that too messy? I hope not. My problem in situations like this is that I’m too windy. That’s why I started blogging. My family has no patience with me when I get started so I had to find another outlet.
There are other philosophical divides as well. But they do tend to congregate and rather cry out for a label in order to discuss the larger ideas beneath rather than the specifics of this legislation or that. There seem to be foundational assumptions that are different.
You are so right. Unless and until we agree on what labels mean our discussions lead to more confusion and misunderstanding than will be productive. Just recently I came across a new term and was inspired to rewrite Hootsbuddy’s profile at my blog and retire the second one which had been up for some time. Readers should be familiar with the Overton Window. Briefly, ideas can be organized in a continuum of public acceptance along these steps: Unthinkable, Radical, Acceptable, Sensible, Popular, and Policy. Hootsbuddy’s Place is more apt to be at the Unthinkable end of the list than the Policy end.
I think that continuum represents one dimension of the challenge we face. And I can sympathize with your need to use a term like “Postliberal.” We all have what you call “foundational assumptions,” some of which are valid and others are not. It’s a terrible feeling when a balloon busts. It’s the same feeling I had when I was confronted with the racism I had been spoon-fed growing up in the South. My father, who had lost a brother in WWII, had a hard time with my decision to register as a Conscientious Objector (although when he saw me in uniform after being drafted and becoming an Army medic he felt a little better).
I don’t know what leads anyone to the place where they live (faith, philosophy, politics, temperament, whatever) so all I know to do is take each case one at a time and do the best I know, hoping to have nudged someone back on whatever track they were on, hopefully with a little contribution from me.
For the past several months I have been doing my homework on health care reform. Below the radar of most people and certainly missing the attention of the gasbags and fear-mongers on TV, there is a serious discussion in progress that will come out of the Congressional sausage grinder in some form this year. I could offer a bunch of links, but the Kaiser people have put up a site that compares all the various proposals now under scrutiny. Part of that site is a link to download a 17-page pdf document with an amazing amount of information presented in an easy to compare, orderly form. I printed out the whole 17 pages, then cut and taped them together to make a table-sized layout to look at them all together. This morning I looked at all eight columns and determined that three are politically impossible (but have a few interesting ideas) and the others hold the seeds to what will eventually come to pass. (No surprise that the insurance industry is to be well-fed and cared for, much to my chagrin.)
I’m not trying to sell anything here, folks. This is just to illustrate to my new buddy, Assistant Village Idiot, how I go about looking at stuff. (Sorry, Dr. Bob. I apologize for taking up space in your comment thread for an ancillary subject. I hate it when people try to hijack comment threads for their own purposes.)
One more link and I’m outta here. As Katrina unfolded I followed closely via the Web. The main action happened at night and on my days off, so I stayed glued to the monitor. It was a horrendous experience, not only for the victims but for anyone watching. The idea of people trapped in attics as rising water drowned them is still for me one of the most gruesome images I have ever known about. Sudden death in a car wreck seems somehow less terrible. I still shudder thinking of it. Anyway, at that time I wrote a long screed to clear my head that in retrospect may have something to contribute to this conversation. Here it is.
Elisheva Levin // May 23, 2009 at 5:13 PM
Assist. Village Wiseperson:
I thought at first your response was to my comments on this topic, but it cannot entirely be so. Nevertheless, I see your points. I am, as stated above, one of those libertarians, but I would say that I want to bring the statist-liberty spectrum more into public consciousness, as I see statism as the opposite of liberty and personal responsibility. I also think of statism as a form of idolatry.
You said:
I would be inclined to call such a person a statist or a collectivist, for that is where such policies inevitably lead. The original American Progressives were interesting. They embraced the collectivist idea, but not the atheism that went with it. However, they were less than enamored with traditional religion. They wanted a spiritual enlightenment to infuse the collective, but not in the name of traditional religion. (See the book American Progressivism). I suppose that for certain “liberals”, the label Progressive is a fair one. But if so, and if they really know all that the word implies, they are indeed scary people.
As for the theology angle, well, Jews aren’t much on theology. We tend to assume G-d exists and move on to what we do about it. Other than the 13 attributes of G-d in Exodus
(my Bat Mitzvah Torah portion), we do not sit around discussing what G-d is like. And normative Judaism is Rabbinic Judaism, and has been since Yavneh. So no form of Judaism is literalist. The term liberal applied to Judaism usually implies less emphasis on ritual law and more emphasis on moral righteousness.
I have never thought of liberals–if we must use that term–as getting beat up in conversation. In all of my experience conversing with them, I have come to agree with Thomas Sowell that they take the Vision of the Anointed. Often, in their own eyes, they are not only factually correct, but morally right. When I oppose their views in discussion, I am cast as not only factually incorrect, but also as a moral reprobate, without compassion; and now that we have a Liberal in Chief , I have been called racist as well, although I rarely address that issue. This is my experience, and though I cannot claim it to be universal, I have heard the same sort of story from many others.
Thus, being in academia, I have self-censored for the 10 odd years since I moved from College of Science to the College of Education. The same political stance was assumed of me as for you, and so I also heard plenty.
Yet I worry that the culture wars are really an attempt by a power-hungry and unprincipled federal government to divide us along partisan lines, when both major parties are taking us to the same bad end.
Assistant Village Idiot // May 24, 2009 at 9:41 AM
Actually, I was talking over my shoulder to you Elisheva when I was writing to John. And I suppose talking over my shoulder to him now. Plus whoever else is left, this late in the thread.
I am the one of the Wise Men of Chelm, perhaps. Certainly a Judeophilic Gentile. Perhaps it was because I was in fast-track classes, and many of my friends were thus Jewish…or because I fell in love with Rabbi Handler’s daughter in 5th grade (I wonder what happened to her?) Not many gentiles have their own afikomen bag.
I loved the Sowell book you referenced. In political and social matters, I try to scrape down to the underlying principles people are operating from. Most folks don’t know what their real theories and motivations actually are, and avoid thinking about it. They have impressions of what would be kind or just, but don’t think through the consequences. This often leads to greater unkindness and injustices, which they don’t feel responsible for, because they didn’t mean it.
I have more to write, but we must be off to the cemetery presently. Please come over and read my post about Monsieur Chouchani.
Joe // May 25, 2009 at 6:36 AM
Those who deny the existance of evil are doomed to experience it.
The Miracle of Forgiveness | The Doctor Is In // May 26, 2009 at 3:19 PM
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meredith // May 27, 2009 at 6:35 AM
Brilliant post. I read M. Scott Peck’s old book “The People of the Lie” over the weekend and had a very similar response.
No way to start my morning: « WESTSOUND MODERN // Jun 1, 2009 at 10:35 PM
[...] something…anything…other than what it most obviously is. If you have a minute go take a read and come on [...]
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