Francisco Goya, Yo lo vi (I saw it), Plate 44 from "The Disasters of War", 1810/Alamy.
In all, there are 80 “Disasters of War” prints by Goya, with
all but one illustrating suffering, the consequences of famine, or a serious number of atrocities stemming from Napoleon’s war with Spain (1808-1814). They were not published until 1863, 35 years
after Goya had died.
For an explanation as to why the West is different from Russia and China, look no further than the Renaissance, which neither Russia nor China experienced. The West underwent at least three significant ‘stages’ of development that were absent elsewhere: artistic, scientific and political “experimentation”. It all began with the Renaissance.
Developments nearly contemporaneous to Renaissance-era-figures
like Leonardo and Michelangelo can be found in Russia’s “Ivan the Terrible” and
China’s “Forbidden City” – examples more inclined to intimidate than encourage
searching curiosity. The Renaissance was
more than a “re-birth” of classical humanism and individualism. It represented - in the truest sense of the
word – artistic “experimentation”.[1]
Look to Leonardo who is remembered today for his art, but his notebooks observe
everything from hydraulics to astronomy.[2]
This spirit of free enquiry was then translated from the artistic
world into empirical research, notably by figures such as Galileo, resulting in
scientific “experimentation”. His famous Leaning Tower of Pisa experiment,
which determined that different objects fall at the same rate of acceleration, a
story which every child knows, was central to introducing the world to the
Scientific Revolution. Essential to it was the study of planetary orbits, which gave rise to the understanding of a heliocentric universe.
The results of the Scientific Revolution then came to be
associated with political “experimentation”.
We see it first in Machiavelli’s, The Prince (1513), but it is
more notable in England during the 17th century. The English Civil Wars were, in effect, a break
from the existing political mould, and they ended up putting King Charles I on
the scaffold in 1649. England wanted to
‘test’ something new, so its King was put on ‘trial’. Soon afterwards Oliver Cromwell alongside his republican commonwealth was considered
the way out, albeit temporarily.
There was a fourth exploratory dimension, in addition to the
artistic, scientific, and political manifestations: religious
“experimentation”. We see this in Luther
and Calvin and in the Protestant Reformation in general, where the Gutenberg
Bible (translated in the vernacular) gave every man the apparent authority to
make decisions on his own and no longer rely on the parish priest. Catholic unity gave way to Protestant disunity.
I would also like to suggest that the Reformation, an early
form of populism, was in some ways comparable to today’s populism, which is not
confined to the West. The trouble with
today’s expression of populism is that it is fundamentally science-denying, and
while the Gutenberg Bible of yesterday can be compared to the cellphone of
today, current populism does not acknowledge the authority of science invested
in the ubiquitous cellphone. This underlying lack of curiosity about something so everyday is a step away
from the Renaissance ideal of “experimentation”. The West, in other words, given Donald Trump’s
second term of office as president, is now closer to copying modes of thought
from Russia and China than ever before.
The word tyrannos did not originate from ancient Greece; rather, it emerged from the Middle East and was later adopted by the Greeks around the seventh century BC.[1] Tyranny mostly disappears from ancient Greece at the end of the sixth century, but single rule remains a political fixture. If we look to Homer’s Iliad, which predates these periods, we can find a clear expression of one-man rule understood as a kind of social contract:
Glaucus, why are we most of all singled out for honour at
home in Lycia, with pride of place, the choicest meat and never empty
cups? Why do they all look up to us as
gods? And why do we cultivate a great
estate on the banks of the River Xanthus, with lovely orchards and splendid
fields of wheat? All this now obliges us
to take our places in the front ranks of the Lycians and fling ourselves into
the flames of battle. Only then will our
Lycian men-at-arms say of us: “Well!
These are no dishonourable lords of Lycia that rule over us and eat fat
sheep and drink the best sweet wine: they are indominable and fight in the
forefront of the Lycians.”[2]
In other words, kings were important to the community
because they offered leadership, especially at times of war, and they were
rewarded in turn with social esteem and many advantages – namely power and
wealth. Since the time of Homer, at
least, one-man rule has carried with it potent cultural symbolism which seems
to spring forth when anxieties overrule other forms of political
expression. From today’s perspective, again
looking at the Middle East, in particular at Israel, along with its biggest ally, it
would seem as if war was considered essential to preserving – and extending -- one-man
rule.
[1] Sara
Forsdyke, “The Uses and Abuses of Tyranny” in A Companion to Greek and Roman
Political Thought, Ed. Ryan K. Balot (Chichester, West Sussex: Wiley
Blackwell, 2013), p. 232.
[2]
Homer, The Iliad, tr. R.V. Rieu, Revised by Peter Jones and D.C.H. Rieu
(London: Penguin, 2003), p. 211 [12:310-321]
The American Founding Fathers did not look to ancient Athens as a model for democracy – instead they looked to the Roman “republic”.[1] Perhaps, if the Greeks had not executed Socrates, things might have turned out differently. Similarly, if slaves, foreigners, and women were not excluded from Athenian citizenship, the ancient use of the word “democracy” would have been more apt. Nevertheless, the Athenian experience continues to stimulate minds to this day, despite current reactionary developments across the globe.
In 594 BC Solon was elected leader and mediator of ancient
Athens, a period of intense economic and social strife. He was known by his poetry as someone who could
dispute “against each side on behalf of the other.”[2]
And so, there was something of the ‘middle-way’
method to Solon’s approach two centuries before Socrates arrived on the
scene. Solon was a reconciler, and he
was responsible for framing the Athenian Constitution as well as other laws which
worked to broaden civic responsibility by making office holding a function of
property as opposed to lineage. It also appears
that Solon preferred “justice for all” over democracy per se, otherwise
known as government by the people. [3]
Neither side was left satisfied by Solon’s settlement of
disputes which gave rise to the seizure of power – on three separate occasions
– by Pisistratus. His first coup was in
561, his second in 556 – each lasting only for a few months – and his third was
in 546, which lasted almost 19 years.[4] Pisistratus’s regime was later regarded as a
“Golden Age”[5]
which didn’t turn truly oppressive until the arrival of his two sons,
Hipparchus and Hippias, following Pisistratus’s death.
Here is an account by Herodotus which relates how Spartan
intervention helped overthrow Athenian tyranny:
[62] … I must proceed with the matter whereof I
was intending before to speak; to wit, the way in which the Athenians got quit
of their tyrants. Upon the death of Hipparchus, Hippias, who was king, grew
harsh towards the Athenians; and the Alcaeonidae, an Athenian family which had
been banished by the Pisistratidae, joined the other exiles, and endeavoured to
procure their own return, and to free Athens, by force. They seized and
fortified Leipsydrium above Paeonia, and tried to gain their object by arms; but
great disasters befell them, and their purpose remained unaccomplished. They
therefore resolved to shrink from no contrivance that might bring them success;
and accordingly they contracted with the Amphictyons to build the temple which
now stands at Delphi, but which in those days did not exist. Having done this,
they proceeded, being men of great wealth and members of an ancient and
distinguished family, to build the temple much more magnificently than the plan
obliged them. Besides other improvements, instead of the coarse stone whereof
by the contract the temple was to have been constructed, they made the facings
of Parian marble.
[63] These same men, if we may believe the
Athenians, during their stay at Delphi persuaded the Pythoness by a bribe to
tell the Spartans, whenever any of them came to consult the oracle, either on
their own private affairs or on the business of the state, that they must free
Athens. So the Lacedaemonians, when they found no answer ever returned to them
but this, sent at last Anchimolius, the son of Aster - a man of note among
their citizens - at the head of an army against Athens, with orders to drive
out the Pisistratidae, albeit they were bound to them by the closest ties of
friendship. For they esteemed the things of heaven more highly than the things
of men. The troops went by sea and were conveyed in transports. Anchimolius
brought them to an anchorage at Phalerum; and there the men disembarked. But
the Pisistratidae, who had previous knowledge of their intentions, had sent to
Thessaly, between which country and Athens there was an alliance, with a
request for aid. The Thessalians, in reply to their entreaties, sent them by a
public vote 1000 horsemen, under the command of their king, Cineas, who was a
Coniaean. When this help came, the Pisistratidae laid their plan accordingly:
they cleared the whole plain about Phalerum so as to make it fit for the movements
of cavalry, and then charged the enemy's camp with their horse, which fell with
such fury upon the Lacedaemonians as to kill numbers, among the rest
Anchimolius, the general, and to drive the remainder to their ships. Such was
the fate of the first army sent from Lacedaemon, and the tomb of Anchimolius
may be seen to this day in Attica; it is at Alopecae (Foxtown), near the temple
of Hercules in Cynosargos.
[64] Afterwards, the Lacedaemonians despatched a
larger force against Athens, which they put under the command of Cleomenes, son
of Anaxandridas, one of their kings. These troops were not sent by sea, but
marched by the mainland. When they were come into Attica, their first encounter
was with the Thessalian horse, which they shortly put to flight, killing above
forty men; the remainder made good their escape, and fled straight to Thessaly.
Cleomenes proceeded to the city, and, with the aid of such of the Athenians as
wished for freedom, besieged the tyrants, who had shut themselves up in the
Pelasgic fortress.
[65] And now there had been small chance of the
Pisistratidae falling into the hands of the Spartans, who did not even design
to sit down before the place, which had moreover been well provisioned
beforehand with stores both of meat and drink, - nay, it is likely that after a
few days' blockade the Lacedaemonians would have quitted Attica altogether, and
gone back to Sparta - had not an event occurred most unlucky for the besieged,
and most advantageous for the besiegers. The children of the Pisistratidae were
made prisoners, as they were being removed out of the country. By this calamity
all their plans were deranged, and - as the ransom of their children - they
consented to the demands of the Athenians, and agreed within five days' time to
quit Attica. Accordingly they soon afterwards left the country, and withdrew to
Sigeum on the Scamander, after reigning thirty-six years over the Athenians. By
descent they were Pylians, of the family of the Neleids, to which Codrus and
Melanthus likewise belonged, men who in former times from foreign settlers
became kings of Athens. And hence it was that Hippocrates came to think of
calling his son Pisistratus: he named him after the Pisistratus who was a son
of Nestor. Such then was the mode in which the Athenians got quit of their
tyrants. …
[78] Thus did the Athenians increase in strength.
And it is plain enough, not from this instance only, but from many everywhere,
that freedom is an excellent thing since even the Athenians, who, while they
continued under the rule of tyrants, were not a whit more valiant than any of
their neighbours, no sooner shook off the yoke than they became decidedly the
first of all. These things show that, while undergoing oppression, they let
themselves be beaten, since then they worked for a master; but so soon as they
got their freedom, each man was eager to do the best he could for himself. So
fared it now with the Athenians. [6]
[1][1]
Kurt A. Raaflaub, “Democracy” in Konrad H. Kinzl, ed., The Companion to the
Classical Greek World (Chichester, West Sussex, 2010), p. 497.
[2]
Aristotle, The Athenian Constitution, tr. P.J. Rhodes (London: Penguin,
2002), p. 46 [para. 5].
[3]
Raaflaub in Companion to the Classical Greek World, p. 395.
[4]
See Aristotle, Athenian Constitution, p. 56.
[5]
Raaflaub in Companion to the Classical Greek World, p. 395.
[6]
Herodotus, The Histories, tr George Rawlinson (Moscow, Idaho: Roman
Roads Media, 2013), pp 344-346,352; available online [Book V, para. 62-65, 78].
Photo: Radio Canada
What is that
sound high in the air
Murmur of maternal lamentation
Who are those hooded hordes swarming
Over endless plains, stumbling in cracked earth
Ringed by the flat horizon only
What is the city over the mountains
Cracks and reforms and bursts in the violet air
Falling towers
Jerusalem Athens Alexandria
Vienna London
Unreal
From T.S. Eliot, The Waste Land (1922)[1]
[1]
T.S. Eliot, “The Waste Land” in T.S. Eliot: The Complete Poems and Plays,
1909-1950 (New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, 1971), pp. 37-50. See lines 367-377 on p. 48.
With Trump back in Washington, Canadians today face threats to our national sovereignty which we have not seen in well over eight decades. Former Prime Minister William Lyon Mackenzie King, a Liberal, guided us through the difficult terrain of much of the Great Depression and the Second World War. He is the longest serving prime minister of Canada, and he bears comparison with the shortest serving prime minister to date we have ever had: Mark Carney, also a Liberal.
In addition to being trained as a lawyer, King had a doctorate
in Political Economy from Harvard.
Carney, a Commonwealth Scholar, has a doctorate in Economics from Oxford.
These two individuals are the only
Canadians who served as prime minister to have a doctorate – Pierre Trudeau’s
doctoral studies at the London School of Economic were never completed. Carney’s experiences at the Bank of Canada
(handling the Great Recession of 2007-8) and at the Bank of England (handling
Brexit) can, in some ways, compare with the weight of the disruptive threats facing the
world in the 1930’s and the 1940’s.
Certainly today’s political landscape, when looking at Trump and across many parts of the globe, resembles the authoritarian path taken by Europe - not just Germany - in the 1930’s.[1] On top of that, Trump’s tariffs can be seen as a new iteration of the Smoot-Hawley Tariff Act, imposed by the USA in 1930, which promoted economic protectionism and further precipitated the depths of the Great Depression.
So, as Mark Carney seems to have risen to today’s occasion,
let us not forget Mackenzie King who dominated Canadian politics under similar
circumstances. Here is a poetic reminder
of Mackenzie King’s political skills:
W.L.M.K.
How shall we speak of Canada,
Mackenzie King dead?
The Mother’s boy in the lonely room
With his dog, his medium and his ruins?
He blunted us.
We had no shape
Because he never took sides,
And no sides
Because he never allowed them to take shape.
He skillfully avoided what was wrong
Without saying what was right,
And never let his on the one hand
Know what his on the other hand was doing.
The height of ambition
Was to pile a Parliamentary Committee on a Royal Commission
To have “conscription if necessary
But not necessarily conscription”,
To let Parliament decide –
Later.
Postpone, postpone, abstain.
Only one thread was certain:
After World War I
Business as usual,
After World War II
Orderly decontrol.
Always he led us back to where we were before.
He seemed to be in the centre
Because we had no centre,
No vision
To pierce the smoke-screen of his politics.
Truly he will be remembered
Whenever men honour ingenuity,
Ambiguity, inactivity, and potential longevity.
Let us raise up a temple
To the cult of mediocrity,
Do nothing by halves
Which can be done by quarters. [2]
F.R. Scott
