. . . But examine, not what other men
examine, if they are born of the same parents and brought up together, and
under the same teacher; but examine this only, wherein they place their
interest, whether in externals or in the will.
If in externals, do not name them
friends, no more than name them trustworthy or constant, or brave or free: do
not name them even men, if you have any judgment.
For that is not a principle of human
nature which makes them bite one another, and abuse one another, and occupy
deserted places or public places, as if they were mountains, and in the courts
of justice display the acts of robbers; nor yet that which makes them
intemperate and adulterers and corrupters, nor that which makes them do
whatever else men do against one another through this one opinion only, that of
placing themselves and their interests in the things which are not within the
power of their will.
But if you hear that in truth these men
think the good to be only there, where will is, and where there is a right use
of appearances, no longer trouble yourself whether they are father or son, or
brothers, or have associated a long time and are companions, but when you have
ascertained this only, confidently declare that they are friends, as you declare
that they are faithful, that they are just.
For where else is friendship than where
there is fidelity, and modesty, where there is a communion of honest things and
of nothing else?. . .
—Epictetus,
Discourses 2.22, tr Long
I recall
a very brief period in my childhood when my teachers told that we should always
look past accidental differences, and consider the essential unity of the human
condition. It did not matter, I was told, if I was black or white, man or
woman, old or young, rich or poor. I was, at heart, a human being. That was
what mattered.
My
romanticism will often bleed into an embarrassing sentimentality, so you will
forgive me when I fondly remember watching one of those old film reels in the third
grade, the kind it took the teacher half an hour to set up, where the picture
wobbled and the rattle of the projector was louder than the actual audio track.
It was of the classic “I Have a Dream” speech of 1963. Even at that tender age,
I was very deeply moved to be told that what mattered was not the color of my
skin, but the content of my character.
But as
the years passed, and I passed into higher education, I experienced something
different. I began to see that model of the essential divided and fractured. I
saw an ever-increasing separation of race, gender, creed, and class. It once
again seemed to be all about black versus white, man versus woman, the old
versus the young, the rich versus the poor. I was once shouted down in a
graduate class by a peer who insisted I had no right to speak about justice
because I was a white male. There was an eerie silence when I said I thought
that interesting, since a hundred years ago someone may have said that I had no
right to speak about justice because I was black female.
Will I
choose to define myself by the good of my will, or by my external conditions? The
good man and the bad man hardly differ because of their lineage, upbringing, or
social circles. The good man and the bad differ only in what they truly love.
Understand that only someone who cares first for his character, and not for his
position, can ever truly be a friend.
Written on 2/2002
Image: Hermann Kern, "Good Friends" (1904)
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