A World Split Apart 13

Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn

LOSS OF WILL 

And yet, no weapons, no matter how powerful, can help the West until it overcomes its loss of willpower. In a state of psychological weakness, weapons even become a burden for the capitulating side. 

To defend oneself, one must also be ready to die; there is little such readiness in a society raised in the cult of material well-being. Nothing is left, in this case, but concessions, attempts to gain time, and betrayal. Thus at the shameful Belgrade conference, free Western diplomats in their weakness surrendered the line of defense for which enslaved members of the Helsinki Watch Groups are sacrificing their lives. 

Western thinking has become conservative: the world situation must stay as it is at any cost; there must be no changes. This debilitating dream of a status quo is the symptom of a society that has ceased to develop. 

But one must be blind in order not to see that the oceans no longer belong to the West, while the land under its domination keeps shrinking. The two so-called world wars (they were by far not on a world scale, not yet) constituted the internal self-destruction of the small progressive West which has thus prepared its own end. The next war (which does not have to be an atomic one; I do not believe it will be) may well bury Western civilization forever. 

In the face of such a danger, with such historical values in your past, with such a high level of attained freedom and, apparently, of devotion to it, how is it possible to lose to such an extent the will to defend oneself?

Sayings of Publilius Syrus 171

Depravity is revealed in outward action, but its source is within. 

IMAGE: Cornelis van Haarlem, The Depravity of Man Before the Flood (c. 1600) 

Seneca, Moral Letters 76.4

Everything is estimated by the standard of its own good. The vine is valued for its productiveness and the flavor of its wine, the stag for his speed. We ask, with regard to beasts of burden, how sturdy of back they are; for their only use is to bear burdens. If a dog is to find the trail of a wild beast, keenness of scent is of first importance; if to catch his quarry, swiftness of foot; if to attack and harry it, courage. In each thing that quality should be best for which the thing is brought into being and by which it is judged.
 
And what quality is best in man? It is reason; by virtue of reason he surpasses the animals, and is surpassed only by the gods. Perfect reason is therefore the good peculiar to man; all other qualities he shares in some degree with animals and plants. 
 
Man is strong; so is the lion. Man is comely; so is the peacock. Man is swift; so is the horse. I do not say that man is surpassed in all these qualities. I am not seeking to find that which is greatest in him, but that which is peculiarly his own. Man has body; so also have trees. Man has the power to act and to move at will; so have beasts and worms. Man has a voice; but how much louder is the voice of the dog, how much shriller that of the eagle, how much deeper that of the bull, how much sweeter and more melodious that of the nightingale!
 
What then is peculiar to man? Reason. When this is right and has reached perfection, man’s felicity is complete. Hence, if everything is praiseworthy and has arrived at the end intended by its nature, when it has brought its peculiar good to perfection, and if man’s peculiar good is reason; then, if a man has brought his reason to perfection, he is praiseworthy and has reached the end suited to his nature. This perfect reason is called virtue, and is likewise that which is honorable. 

—from Seneca, Moral Letters 76 
 
If I wish to discover the purpose of anything at all, let me look to that which is peculiar to its own nature; by learning about the what of the inherent form, I reveal the why of the greater function. 
 
Such a method of inquiry is hardly unique to the Stoics, for it is the common-sense approach of any troubleshooter, whether he is taking apart an engine or exploring the depths of the soul. Aristotle said as much in a passage from the first book of his Nicomachean Ethics, a text that has become my anchor when I begin to doubt the clarity of my own humanity: 
 
For just as for a flute-player, a sculptor, or an artist, and, in general, for all things that have a function or activity, the good and the “well” is thought to reside in the function, so would it seem to be for man, if he has a function. 
 
Have the carpenter, then, and the tanner certain functions or activities, and has man none? Is he born without a function? Or as eye, hand, foot, and in general each of the parts evidently has a function, may one lay it down that man similarly has a function apart from all these? What then can this be? 
 
Life seems to be common even to plants, but we are seeking what is peculiar to man. Let us exclude, therefore, the life of nutrition and growth. Next there would be a life of perception, but it also seems to be common even to the horse, the ox, and every animal. 
 
There remains, then, an active life of the element that has a rational principle; of this, one part has such a principle in the sense of being obedient to one, the other in the sense of possessing one and exercising thought. . . . 
 
For all of my grumbling and handwringing, there is no arcane riddle about why I am put here on this Earth, as long as I calmly choose to focus on what is right before me. My objections come from a fear of becoming responsible for myself, not because my essence is unintelligible. 
 
There was a time when I would confront the current intellectual fashions of skepticism, subjectivism, and relativism with theoretical arguments, and yet I now see how the trend is more a product of yielding to the passions than it is of exercising reason. Now I am more likely to recognize that the modern Pilate doesn’t even wish for there to be any truth to curb his desires. 
 
The only remedy is in urging him to embrace how he is already part of a world much bigger than himself, to remember his own nature as a portion of the fullness of Nature. Each creature is made with its unique place in the plan of Providence, a distinct mission according to its specific powers. 
 
So, the vine is there to produce fruit, or the hound is there to pursue the scent of his prey. Now a man also grows like the plant, or senses like the beast, but what is particular to his sort of being? He is gifted with a mind, by which to judge, and by which to order his feelings. His understanding tells him not only that he should act, but also the reasons why he should act; in this regard, he is gifted with the freedom to accept or to reject. 
 
When a man reasons with excellence, and thus lives most completely in service to his awareness of the true and the good, we might call this virtue. For any other abilities he may possess, to a greater or a lesser degree, their benefit or harm is determined by the merit within his judgements. 
 
I am often told that the capacity for emotion makes humans special, though I fear this comes from the folks who have never spent enough time with a pet cat, which will show affection and anger with as much complexity as any person. It is the power of the mind to rise above the circumstances, to grasp the causes, that makes humans special, and it is by the application of the mind that we will rise or fall—everything else in our lives hinges upon it. 

—Reflection written in 10/2013 

Cosmos 16

Cosmos 15

Cosmos 14

Cosmos 13

A World Split Apart 12

Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn

SHORTSIGHTEDNESS 

Very well-known representatives of your society, such as George Kennan, say: “We cannot apply moral criteria to politics.” Thus we mix good and evil, right and wrong, and make space for the absolute triumph of absolute evil in the world. 

Only moral criteria can help the West against Communism’s well-planned world strategy. There are no other criteria. Practical or occasional considerations of any kind will inevitably be swept away by strategy. After a certain level of the problem has been reached, legalistic thinking induces paralysis; it prevents one from seeing the scale and the meaning of events. 

In spite of the abundance of information, or maybe partly because of it, the West has great difficulty in finding its bearings amid contemporary events. There have been naïve predictions by some American experts who believed that Angola would become the Soviet Union’s Vietnam or that the impudent Cuban expeditions in Africa would best be stopped by special US courtesy to Cuba. Kennan’s advice to his own country—to begin unilateral disarmament—belongs to the same category. 

If you only knew how the youngest of the officials in Moscow’s Old Square roar with laughter at your political wizards! As to Fidel Castro, he openly scorns the United States, boldly sending his troops to distant adventures from his country right next to yours. 

However, the most cruel mistake occurred with the failure to understand the Vietnam war. Some people sincerely wanted all wars to stop just as soon as possible; others believed that the way should be left open for national, or communist, self-determination in Vietnam (or in Cambodia, as we see today with particular clarity). 

But in fact, members of the US antiwar movement became accomplices in the betrayal of Far Eastern nations, in the genocide and the suffering today imposed on thirty million people there. Do these convinced pacifists now hear the moans coming from there? Do they understand their responsibility today? Or do they prefer not to hear? The American intelligentsia lost its nerve and as a consequence the danger has come much closer to the United States. 

But there is no awareness of this. Your short-sighted politician who signed the hasty Vietnam capitulation seemingly gave America a carefree breathing pause; however, a hundredfold Vietnam now looms over you. Small Vietnam had been a warning and an occasion to mobilize the nation’s courage. But if the full might of America suffered a full-fledged defeat at the hands of a small Communist half-country, how can the West hope to stand firm in the future? 

I have said on another occasion that in the twentieth century Western democracy has not won any major war by itself; each time it shielded itself with an ally possessing a powerful land army, whose philosophy it did not question. In World War II against Hitler, instead of winning the conflict with its own forces, which would certainly have been sufficient, Western democracy raised up another enemy, one that would prove worse and more powerful, since Hitler had neither the resources nor the people, nor the ideas with broad appeal, nor such a large number of supporters in the West—a fifth column—as the Soviet Union possessed. 

Some Western voices already have spoken of the need of a protective screen against hostile forces in the next world conflict; in this case, the shield would be China. But I would not wish such an outcome to any country in the world. First of all, it is again a doomed alliance with evil; it would grant the United States a respite, but when at a later date China with its billion people would turn around armed with American weapons, America itself would fall victim to a Cambodia-style genocide.

Michael Leunig 75

Maxims of Goethe 63

Faith is private capital, kept in one's own house. 

There are public savings banks and loan offices, which supply individuals in their day of need; but here the creditor quietly takes his interest for himself. 

IMAGE: Peter Paul Rubens, Praying Hands (c. 1600) 

Xenophon, Memorabilia of Socrates 36

At another time Socrates fell in with a man who had been chosen general and minister of war, and thus accosted him. 

Socrates: "Why did Homer, think you, designate Agamemnon 'shepherd of the peoples'? Was it possibly to show that, even as a shepherd must care for his sheep and see that they are safe and have all things needful, and that the objects of their rearing be secured, so also must a general take care that his soldiers are safe and have their supplies, and attain the objects of their soldiering? Which last is that they may get the mastery of their enemies, and so add to their own good fortune and happiness; or tell me, what made him praise Agamemnon, saying 'he is both a good king and a warrior bold'? 

"Did he mean, perhaps, to imply that he would be a 'warrior bold,' not merely in standing alone and bravely battling against the foe, but as inspiring the whole of his host with like prowess; and by a 'good king,' not merely one who should stand forth gallantly to protect his own life, but who should be the source of happiness to all over whom he reigns? Since a man is not chosen king in order to take heed to himself, albeit nobly, but that those who chose him may attain to happiness through him. 

"And why do men go soldiering except to ameliorate existence? And to this end they choose their generals that they may find in them guides to the goal in question. He, then, who undertakes that office is bound to procure for those who choose him the thing they seek for. And indeed it were not easy to find any nobler ambition than this, or aught ignobler than its opposite." 

After such sort he handled the question, what is the virtue of a good leader? And by shredding off all superficial qualities, laid bare as the kernel of the matter that it is the function of every leader to make those happy whom he may be called upon to lead. 

—from Xenophon, Memorabilia 3.2 

A World Split Apart 11

Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn

NOT A MODEL 

But should I be asked, instead, whether I would propose the West, such as it is today, as a model to my country, I would frankly have to answer negatively. No, I could not recommend your society as an ideal for the transformation of ours. Through deep suffering, people in our country have now achieved a spiritual development of such intensity that the Western system in its present state of spiritual exhaustion does not look attractive. Even those characteristics of your life which I have just enumerated are extremely saddening. 

A fact which cannot be disputed is the weakening of human personality in the West while in the East it has become firmer and stronger. Six decades for our people and three decades for the people of Eastern Europe; during that time we have been through a spiritual training far in advance of Western experience. The complex and deadly crush of life has produced stronger, deeper, and more interesting personalities than those generated by standardized Western well-being. 

Therefore, if our society were to be transformed into yours, it would mean an improvement in certain aspects, but also a change for the worse on some particularly significant points. Of course, a society cannot remain in an abyss of lawlessness, as is the case in our country. But it is also demeaning for it to stay on such a soulless and smooth plane of legalism, as is the case in yours. 

After the suffering of decades of violence and oppression, the human soul longs for things higher, warmer, and purer than those offered by today’s mass living habits, introduced as by a calling card by the revolting invasion of commercial advertising, by TV stupor, and by intolerable music. 

All this is visible to numerous observers from all the worlds of our planet. The Western way of life is less and less likely to become the leading model. 

There are telltale symptoms by which history gives warning to a threatened or perishing society. Such are, for instance, a decline of the arts or a lack of great statesmen. Indeed, sometimes the warnings are quite explicit and concrete. The center of your democracy and of your culture is left without electric power for a few hours only, and all of a sudden crowds of American citizens start looting and creating havoc. The smooth surface film must be very thin, then, the social system quite unstable and unhealthy. 

But the fight for our planet, physical and spiritual, a fight of cosmic proportions, is not a vague matter of the future; it has already started. The forces of Evil have begun their decisive offensive. You can feel their pressure, yet your screens and publications are full of prescribed smiles and raised glasses. What is the joy about? 

Seneca, Moral Letters 76.3

“How much progress shall I make?” you ask. 
 
Just as much as you try to make. Why do you wait? Wisdom comes haphazard to no man. Money will come of its own accord; titles will be given to you; influence and authority will perhaps be thrust upon you; but virtue will not fall upon you by chance. Neither is knowledge thereof to be won by light effort or small toil; but toiling is worthwhile when one is about to win all goods at a single stroke.
 
For there is but a single good—namely, that which is honorable; in all those other things of which the general opinion approves, you will find no truth or certainty. 
 
Why it is, however, that there is but one good, namely, that which is honorable, I shall now tell you, inasmuch as you judge that in my earlier letter, I did not carry the discussion far enough, and think that this theory was commended to you rather than proved. I shall also compress the remarks of other authors into narrow compass. 

—from Seneca, Moral Letters 76 
 
How much of this self-improvement can I manage? I sometimes find myself doubting my capacities, and I tremble at the thought of what Fortune might send my way. 
 
But what is truly holding me back, except for my very own hesitation? My character will unfold, however gradually, through my judgments, and the circumstances are never what make the man. If I am brutally honest with myself about my motives, the slightest progress is one more step in the right direction. 
 
If I were planning to conquer the world instead of myself, I would be right to question the prospects. Even when the schemes of an Alexander, or a Ceasar, or a Napoleon happened to converge with a state of affairs, they still weren’t completely satisfied, because they remained at the mercy of Fate. It is the fruits of wisdom, and not armies or treasuries, that offer liberation. 
 
The real achievement of a lifetime will perhaps appear paltry to the grasping man, since he remains fixated on everything else beyond himself. He believes honor is about public glory, when it is really about private virtue. I have long noticed how arrogance is a symptom of a deeper insecurity, a failure to find dignity in the unadorned simplicity of a just soul. Seek what is great in what is humble, for it is an endless source of peace. 
 
Being so accustomed to a shallow standard of acquisition and consumption, the Stoic claim that the only human good is a moral good will make us feel uncomfortable. That Lucilius believes Seneca has not yet made the best case for virtue is a sign of how radical a transformation this philosophy demands, a total reversal of priorities. 
 
But I need not fear taking the plunge, as it is firmly supported by sound reason. The old habits will slip away, if I sincerely wish it to be so. 

—Reflection written in 10/2013 

IMAGE: Frans Floris the Elder, Minerva (c. 1566) 

A World Split Apart 10

Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn

SOCIALISM 

It is almost universally recognized that the West shows all the world the way to successful economic development, even though in past years it has been sharply offset by chaotic inflation. However, many people living in the West are dissatisfied with their own society. They despise it or accuse it of no longer being up to the level of maturity attained by mankind. And this causes many to sway toward socialism, which is a false and dangerous current.

I hope that no one present will suspect me of expressing my partial criticism of the Western system in order to suggest socialism as an alternative. No; with the experience of a country where socialism has been realized, I shall certainly not speak for such an alternative. 

The mathematician Igor Shafarevich, a member of the Soviet Academy of Science, has written a brilliantly argued book entitled Socialism; this is a penetrating historical analysis demonstrating that socialism of any type and shade leads to a total destruction of the human spirit and to a leveling of mankind into death. Shafarevich’s book was published in France almost two years ago and so far no one has been found to refute it. It will shortly be published in English in the US.

Worth While

"Worth While" 

Ella Wheeler Wilcox (1850-1919) 

It is easy enough to be pleasant
    When life flows by like a song,
But the man worth while is the one who will smile
    When everything goes dead wrong.
For the test of the heart is trouble,
    And it always comes with the years,
And the smile that is worth the praises of earth
    Is the smile that shines through tears.

It is easy enough to be prudent
    When nothing tempts you to stray,
When without or within no voice of sin
    Is luring your soul away;
But it's only a negative virtue
    Until it is tried by fire,
And the life that is worth the honour on earth
    Is the one that resists desire.

By the cynic, the sad, the fallen,
    Who had no strength for the strife,
The world's highway is cumbered today; 
    They make up the sum of life. 
But the virtue that conquers passion,
    And the sorrow that hides in a smile, 
It is these that are worth the homage on earth,
    For we find them but once in a while. 

It Comes to This . . .

After so many decades of seeking out the edgiest new wave, punk, ska, alternative rock, progressive rock, Celtic folk, bluegrass, heavy metal, acid jazz, jazz fusion, and any possible variation of musical fusions, it finally comes down to this: 

When I sit down to read, or to write, or to simply stare off into space while smoking my trusty Peterson pipe, filled with a pinch of glorious Erinmore Mixture, I now instinctively turn to my old CD's by the Electric Light Orchestra. 

Is it that I'm too old? Have I lost my mojo? Will I soon be scanning the obituary columns? 

I honestly no longer care what it says about me. I know what I like. I have also learned to be happy to let you like whatever it is that you happen to like. 

Is this what they call growing up? It's not half bad. Too bad it took so long. 

—4/2017 

A World Split Apart 9

Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn

A FASHION IN THINKING 

Without any censorship in the West, fashionable trends of thought and ideas are fastidiously separated from those that are not fashionable, and the latter, without ever being forbidden, have little chance of finding their way into periodicals or books or being heard in colleges. Your scholars are free in the legal sense, but they are hemmed in by the idols of the prevailing fad. 

There is no open violence, as in the East; however, a selection dictated by fashion and the need to accommodate mass standards frequently prevents the most independent-minded persons from contributing to public life and gives rise to dangerous herd instincts that block successful development. 

In America, I have received letters from highly intelligent persons—maybe a teacher in a faraway small college who could do much for the renewal and salvation of his country, but the country cannot hear him because the media will not provide him with a forum. 

This gives birth to strong mass prejudices, to a blindness which is perilous in our dynamic era. An example is the self-deluding interpretation of the state of affairs in the contemporary world that functions as a sort of a petrified armor around people’s minds, to such a degree that human voices from seventeen countries of Eastern Europe and Eastern Asia cannot pierce it. It will be broken only by the inexorable crowbar of events. 

I have mentioned a few traits of Western life which surprise and shock a new arrival to this world. The purpose and scope of this speech will not allow me to continue such a survey, in particular to look into the impact of these characteristics on important aspects of a nation’s life, such as elementary education, advanced education in the humanities, and art.

Seneca, Moral Letters 76.2

But I am ashamed of mankind, as often as I enter the lecture hall. On my way to the house of Metronax I am compelled to go, as you know, right past the Neapolitan Theater. The building is jammed; men are deciding, with tremendous zeal, who is entitled to be called a good flute player; even the Greek piper and the herald draw their crowds. 
 
But in the other place, where the question discussed is: “What is a good man?” and the lesson which we learn is “How to be a good man,” very few are in attendance, and the majority think that even these few are engaged in no good business; they have the name of being empty-headed idlers. 
 
I hope I may be blessed with that kind of mockery; for one should listen in an unruffled spirit to the railings of the ignorant; when one is marching toward the goal of honor, one should scorn scorn itself. 
 
Proceed, then, Lucilius, and hasten, lest you yourself be compelled to learn in your old age, as is the case with me. Nay, you must hasten all the more, because for a long time you have not approached the subject, which is one that you can scarcely learn thoroughly when you are old. 

—from Seneca, Moral Letters 76 
 
I have noticed how most of the bigwigs develop an ability to appear deeply passionate about the fashionable causes they would otherwise neglect, and few topics will bring them more praise than a formulaic enthusiasm on improving education. Only a monster, after all, would fail to think about the children. 
 
You will be disappointed, however, if you expect there to be any wisdom behind the bluster. You will hear about test scores, so that everyone can go to college, and about math skills, so that everyone can become an accountant. Do not ask them to explain how learning elevates the soul, or why the way we learn is far more significant than what we learn; they will refer you to a consultant, who will then refer you to a table of statistics, oblivious to any context of a higher good. 
 
But do not be discouraged, since they are much like the flashy showmen Seneca had to walk past, obsessed with style over substance. You remain free to reflect upon the ends, not just get bogged down in the means. You may agree that only a fool chases philosophy as a career, while insisting that any man who wishes to be good must first embrace philosophy as a complete way of living. 
 
You will surely be mocked for having your head in the clouds, though what you are really doing is keeping your head above water, and yet you will not feel offended, because you know why your merit is in your own character, whatever the blowhards might say. Do not permit them to treat you like a tool: you were called to the dignity of growing into a master craftsman. 
 
As much as old age can refine and perfect a conscience, there is still an urgency to set off on this quest in the vitality of youth. Besides not knowing how much time I will actually be granted, it will take the whole of a life to create the best sort of life. 
 
I now regret not listening to those of my elders who also happened to be my betters, when they prodded me to strike while the iron was hot; the beautiful irony is that we only appreciate the good advice after we no longer require it, and thus we hope to make it right by passing it on to the next generation. 
 
I like the old maxim: no one his deathbed ever said, “I wish I had spent more time on my business.” It is the very fragility of life that finally teaches us to make virtue our sole vocation. 

—Reflection written in 10/2013 

A World Split Apart 8

Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn

THE DIRECTION OF THE PRESS 

The press, too, of course, enjoys the widest freedom. (I shall be using the word “press” to include all the media.) But what use does it make of it? 

Here again, the overriding concern is not to infringe the letter of the law. There is no true moral responsibility for distortion or disproportion. What sort of responsibility does a journalist or a newspaper have to the readership or to history? If they have misled public opinion by inaccurate information or wrong conclusions, even if they have contributed to mistakes on a state level, do we know of any case of open regret voiced by the same journalist or the same newspaper? 

No; this would damage sales. A nation may be the worse for such a mistake, but the journalist always gets away with it. It is most likely that he will start writing the exact opposite to his previous statements with renewed aplomb. 

Because instant and credible information is required, it becomes necessary to resort to guesswork, rumors, and suppositions to fill in the voids, and none of them will ever be refuted; they settle into the readers’ memory. How many hasty, immature, superficial, and misleading judgments are expressed every day, confusing readers, and are then left hanging? The press can act the role of public opinion or miseducate it. 

Thus we may see terrorists heroized, or secret matters pertaining to the nation’s defense publicly revealed, or we may witness shameless intrusion into the privacy of well-known people according to the slogan “Everyone is entitled to know everything.” But this is a false slogan of a false era; far greater in value is the forfeited right of people not to know, not to have their divine souls stuffed with gossip, nonsense, vain talk. A person who works and leads a meaningful life has no need for this excessive and burdening flow of information.

Hastiness and superficiality—these are the psychic diseases of the twentieth century and more than anywhere else this is manifested in the press. In-depth analysis of a problem is anathema to the press; it is contrary to its nature. The press merely picks out sensational formulas. 

Such as it is, however, the press has become the greatest power within the Western countries, exceeding that of the legislature, the executive, and the judiciary. Yet one would like to ask: According to what law has it been elected and to whom is it responsible? In the Communist East, a journalist is frankly appointed as a state official. But who has voted Western journalists into their positions of power, for how long a time, and with what prerogatives? 

There is yet another surprise for someone coming from the totalitarian East with its rigorously unified press: one discovers a common trend of preferences within the Western press as a whole (the spirit of the time), generally accepted patterns of judgment, and maybe common corporate interests, the sum effect being not competition but unification. 

Unrestrained freedom exists for the press, but not for the readership, because newspapers mostly transmit in a forceful and emphatic way those opinions which do not too openly contradict their own and that general trend.