. . . “Since, then, I had learned from
you in quiet and inaction of this view, and I followed it further, for I
desired to practice it in public government.
“You, and God Himself, who has grafted
you in the minds of philosophers, are my witnesses that never have I applied
myself to any office of state except that I might work for the common welfare
of all good men.
“From there followed bitter quarrels
with evil men which could not be appeased, and, for the sake of preserving
justice, contempt of the enmity of those in power, for this is the result of a
free and fearless conscience.” . . .
—from
Book 1, Prose 4
I suppose
Boethius is angry that Lady Philosophy had told him about all sorts of
wonderful things, but that she had never done any work to actively make them
happen.
Yet
perhaps she had done quite a few things to make them happen, not least among
them encouraging Boethius to act for himself. He did indeed decide he wished to
go into politics, so that he could work to make the wrong things right.
When I
was a child, my father would often use the term “Crusader Rabbit” for anyone
who was fired up to change the world. It was only years later that I realized
this was a reference to one of the first television cartoons from his own
childhood, with our titular hero and his sidekick, Ragland T. Tiger, righting
wrongs in the face of the evil Dudley Nightshade. Those of us from a later
generation may know something similar, with Rocky and Bullwinkle.
In the
comics, cartoons, and most of our popular films, the ‘good guy’ always ends up
winning. The Crusader Rabbit is always triumphant. But define winning, and
define triumph. I was told in college, for example, that winning was success,
and success was becoming rich, and becoming important.
How many
of us have dedicated our lives to that false ideal, and how many of us are just
as dazed and confused as we were to begin with? What you have, or what you are
given, will make you no better. Who you are will make you better.
Consider
Boethius himself. How could the political life make him better and happier? He
wanted to change the world. He wanted his countrymen, no longer the citizens of
Ancient Rome but the subjects of a Gothic king, to live with justice, and he
apparently did everything he could to make that happen.
Now look
where that got him.
I think
of Socrates from Plato’s Apology,
where he explains what politics would be to an honest man:
For
I am certain, O men of Athens, that if I had engaged in
politics, I should have perished long ago, and done no good
either to you or to myself. And don't be offended at my telling you
the truth.
For
the truth is that no man who goes to war with you or any other
multitude, honestly struggling against the commission of unrighteousness and wrong in the state, will save his life.
He
who will really fight for the right, if he would live even for
a little while, must have a private station, and not a public
one.
Did
Boethius really think that playing the game of power, while still inspired by a
sense of justice, would somehow make him rich, popular, or mighty? It certainly
would have done so if he had played it a certain way, but integrity and honesty
were not that way. He brought all the wrongs cards to the table.
I should
fight evil men, and I should fight for my conscience, but I should never expect
to defeat evil men on their own terms. I should hope to help myself, and to
help others, on quite different terms.
I fear I
was always made to be a Crusader Rabbit. I itch and I burn when I see the
entitled take advantage of the dispossessed. I should fight the good fight, and
I should engage in a quarrel when called for, but I should use love as my
weapon, not my hatred.
Written in 6/2015
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