Careening From One Mistake To Another

Careening from one mistake to another The Norman Transcript February 02, 2008 12:23 am — For The Transcript Our history -- personal and national -- is saturated with mistakes. Many are repetitions. This is a foolish waste of time and energy, resources and talents, and it frequently carries unnecessary suffering. For thousands of years the human race has split itself into factions, big or little groups that squabble, fight and kill one another. This destroys individuals, disrupts families, shatters communities and shreds nations. Why we do this is puzzling, but equally befuddling is why we don't seem to learn enough from our destructive blunders to forgo repeating them. Undoubtedly the reasons are numerous. Theologians usually ascribe our errors to corrupt human nature. Psychologists often see neurosis and psychosis as the principal explanation. Many who are interested in education think inadequate instruction -- poor teaching, a mushy curriculum, weak leadership and fuzzy purposes -- the root problem. But whatever the causes, stress, conflict and violence encircle the globe and seem destined to continue. Perhaps one way for getting control of all this is to study, realistically and critically, the calamities of the past. The story of human war and butchery is long and dismaying. Consider just two recent wars. The distinguished and conscientious Oxford historian Martin Gilbert -- after years of studying the battlefields of Europe -- set the losses in World War I in excess of 8 million. This means that hundreds of soldiers were killed every day of the war. Enriching our understanding, the provocative and discriminating historian Alan Bullock, whose roots are also embedded in Oxford, puts the figures for deaths in World War II at approximately 40 million. The Britannica says that figure might run as high as 60 million. Ghastly, irrational and insane seem the most appropriate labels for such barbarism. A key condition for dealing objectively with the past -- or for that matter with all controversy -- is equanimity, emotional balance and detachment. In a sense the time required for cooling emotions and rationally viewing old conflicts is surprisingly great. The American Civil War, for example, is over a century and a half old yet it profoundly influences emotions to this day. No doubt the time required for achieving objectivity varies for individuals and groups, but if we go back far enough we can detach ourselves from emotional involvements and both understand and appreciate the complex issues that tormented the souls and unbalanced the behavior of our forbears. Every conflict lends itself to analysis. Fairly to judge any confrontation requires, however, separating our emotions from political parties, churches, universities, patriotic societies and other institutions where we have invested years of service and loyalty. This is necessary for honest evaluation. World War II, Vietnam and Iraq, for example, are too close for us to think about dispassionately. Regardless of our color, creed or convictions the objectivity that comes with detachment is necessary for controlling stress and the understanding of human tragedy. An instructive specimen for analysis of conflict is the 17th century English Civil War. Monarchists, Puritans, Roundheads, Cavaliers, Royalists, Presbyterians, Roman Catholics and Anglicans got themselves involved in a senseless and long running conflagration. Ambition, pride, traditions and principle were jumbled in ways that evade rationality. One major cause of this madness was the inability of the contestants to deal dispassionately with religion. Certainty animated all factions. Absolute convictions are not conducive to compromise nor to accommodation with those who disagree. The Puritans drove the king into a frenzy; the Presbyterians -- because of their emphasis on democratic self-government -- threatened the supporters of absolute monarchy. To assure his authority the king used force to promote Anglicanism. But true believers do not readily yield to the convictions promoted by military force.

We are far enough removed from the Stuart Monarchy and the Puritans to judge them dispassionately. Narrow minded, dogmatic and arrogant, Charles I was a miserable king. In 1649, after a trial before the House of Commons, he was executed. Like all men, Oliver Cromwell, leader of the Parliamentary (Puritan) faction, suffered both virtues and vices. Profoundly moral and effective as a military leader, he had the wisdom to refuse the crown after the execution of the king, but he put down rebellion in Ireland in a merciless manner. That brutality and continuing oppression made the union of England and Ireland impossible. Much of what passes for political philosophy is rationalization of preference; most political parties are institutionalized justifications for selective privilege. Efforts to coerce belief are presumption derived from arrogance. If history teaches us anything it should be to let other people alone, to let them cultivate their own values, religions and political theories. Our stumbling efforts to understand and promote democracy are in the first instance the result of failure to define with precision what we think we are talking about, and in the second instance failure to see that democracy is first a moral question and then a political one. With the clarity of subdued emotions and reflection we can see that the battling English factions were too involved with feeling, insufficiently involved with reason, and that authoritarian government however promoted is a mistake. This latter is especially malicious if it gets involved with religion. To call on government to promote religion -- or any other social conviction -- is a blunder. Fear and violence can compel the performance of ritual, but genuine, informed convictions come only from free intelligence. Even the heavy-fisted monarch Friedrich the Great had the wisdom to promote religious freedom. So far as the intellectual life and belief are concerned, we are hard pressed to find a better motto for democracy than the gift from our French cousins: laissez-faire, laissez-aller -- no interference, let alone. We have been blessed with the capacity to think. The tool should help us significantly diminish mistakes -provided we use it. One way we can reduce our blunders is to get ourselves in rational perspective. There are many clues, but a few critical guides should keep us focused on the real world. First, we should always remember and never forget how fallible we are and what little importance we are in the immensity of the universe. Second, we should habitually consider the consequences of what we say and do. Among other positive outcomes this will keep us alert to how other people and other nations respond to us. Third, we should do our best to shed the na?ve and romantic views we have of ourselves and outgrow the myth of national invincibility. This immaturity distorts our judgment of personal, institutional and international affairs. Fourth, we should accept responsibility for our individual actions and our nation should accept responsibility for its actions. Otherwise we resort to the self-deceptive mechanism of blaming the "bad guys" or the "evil ones" for our problems. And fifth, we should abandon the illusion that the "truth" will inevitably triumph, that the "good" will necessarily win and that the Deity will take car of us. This latter assumption is being wisely modified by time: the Deity will take care of those who take care of themselves. So viewing life our mistakes should necessarily diminish. Lloyd Williams is a retired educator. His principal pedagogical concern has been to help students develop an informed awareness of the social and intellectual disorder they are inheriting from their careless elders. Copyright © 1999-2008 cnhi, inc.