Latest news with #Enlightenment
Wall Street Journal
4 days ago
- Entertainment
- Wall Street Journal
Waiting for the Great Woke Novel
The artists among the class of 2020 have fallen uncharacteristically silent. All civilizations record major events. Only the West has expanded the media of memory to include film, television and audiobooks, while also granting near-infinite license to its artists. The Enlightenment turned the arts into a running commentary, especially in the U.S.—until recently. Twenty twenty was the year of the Covid-19 outbreak and an induced economic crisis. The year of the George Floyd riots and Black Lives Matter. The year of Joe Biden's basement run and Hunter Biden's laptop. The raw material of history was everywhere. Artists should have spent the past half decade refining 2020's historical dividend into the verities of art and royalty checks. We're still waiting. Compare this silence with the watersheds of World War II and the 1960s, and it's clear that apart from a few Covid cash-in novels that failed to capture the public's attention, the arts have lost their voice. The movies 'Casablanca' (1942) and 'Guadalcanal Diary' (1943), Norman Rockwell's 'Rosie the Riveter' series, and novels such as John Hersey's 'A Bell for Adano' and Saul Bellow's 'Dangling Man' (both 1944) were all produced while World War II was still going on, followed by Norman Mailer's 'The Naked and the Dead' in 1948. The changes of the '60s were reflected and accelerated by the music of Bob Dylan, the Beatles and Jimi Hendrix as well as movies such as 'The Graduate' (1967) and 'Easy Rider' (1969), and even the stage musical 'Hair' (1967). Look at the past five years. Black lives mattered to the graduates of George Floyd U, but not enough to write a competent novel, compose a memorable song, or produce a half-decent painting or movie. There is, as Buffalo Springfield noted, something happenin' here. What it is ain't exactly clear, but its primary symptom is that nothing much is happenin' now.
Business Times
05-07-2025
- Politics
- Business Times
The Middle Ages are making a political comeback
IN ONE of the most memorable scenes in Pulp Fiction, a film replete with memorable scenes, a Los Angeles gangster, Marsellus Wallace, turns the tables on a man who has kidnapped and abused him. He's going to get a couple of friends to go to work on his assailant 'with a pair of pliers and a blow torch', he says, and ensure that he spends 'the rest of his short life in agonising pain'. In short, he's going to 'get mediaeval' on him. There has been an awful lot of 'getting mediaeval' in the world recently. The '12-day war' between Israel and Iran was all about the most modern weapons of mass destruction humanity has devised. Yet it was frequently discussed in a language that is more resonant of the Middle Ages than the scientific laboratory. Consider Donald Trump's 'rage tweet' in reply to the Democratic Congresswoman Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez ('stupid AOC') and her suggestion that the president should be impeached for authorising the bombing of Iran without congressional approval. Congresswoman Ilhan Omar gets called 'the mouse'. Former president Joe Biden is 'Sleepy Joe'. Senator Chuck Schumer is 'Cryin' Chuck' or 'Our Great Palestinian Senator'. Trump's political success has been helped by his genius for nicknames. During his run for the Republican nomination back in 2015 and 2016, he brought his Republican rivals down to size with a collection of memorable names: 'low-energy Jeb' (Jeb Bush), 'Sloppy Chris' (Chris Christie), 'Lil Marco' (Marco Rubio). Hillary Clinton was 'Crooked Hillary'; Biden was 'Crooked Joe' at first; Kamala Harris was, at various times 'Crazy Kamala', 'Laffin Kamala' and 'Lyin Kamala'. As for foreign leaders, Bashar al-Assad is 'Animal Assad', Justin Trudeau is 'Governor Trudeau', and Kim Jong Un is 'Rocket Man' or 'Little Rocket Man'. This is all reminiscent of the Middle Ages, when every great political figure had a nickname. Sometimes royal nicknames mocked (or celebrated) people's physical appearance: Charles the Bald, Charles the Fat, Ivar the Boneless, Ragnar Hairy-Pants. Sometimes they celebrated their political or military successes, as with Vlad the Impaler or Eric Bloodaxe or Richard the Lionheart. William the Conqueror started life as William the Bastard before he changed his reputation by subjugating England. Or consider Nato Secretary-General Mark Rutte's private letter to Trump ('Mr President, Dear Donald'), written on the eve of the recent Nato summit and then leaked by a delighted Trump to the world. Rutte, a former prime minister of the Netherlands, a country that led the Enlightenment, simultaneously grovels to the US president and adopts his idiosyncratic language. The 'decisive action' in Iran was 'truly extraordinary' and 'something no one else dared to do. It makes us all safer'. 'You have driven us to a really, really important moment for the US and Europe and the world' by getting Europe to agree to spend more money on its own defence, he says. 'You will achieve something NO American president in decades could get done.' The secretary-general capped this during the summit, by justifying Trump's use of a profanity in his warning to Iran and Israel to stop fighting on the grounds that 'daddy sometimes has to use strong language'. BT in your inbox Start and end each day with the latest news stories and analyses delivered straight to your inbox. Sign Up Sign Up Rutte's letter belongs in the long tradition of grovelling loyal addresses to monarchs from their subjects (though with shorter words and more capital letters). Monarchs were routinely praised for their wisdom, justice and foresight; the subjects were equally routinely described as grateful, humble and awestruck. You could never go too far in praising your betters. Far from being embarrassed by too much flattery, the royals simply took it as their due and asked for more. To compete the mediaeval feel, Rutte's letter even ended with 'safe travels and see you at His Majesty's dinner'. And, finally, consider the language of the Iranian leadership over the bombing. The speaker of the Iranian parliament, Mohammad Baqer Qalibaf, raged that 'the evil hand of the Zionist criminal and terrorist gang has once again been stained with the blood of commanders and Mujahideen in Iran, dearer than our lives'. Iran's Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei declared that his country had 'delivered a hard slap to America's face' and that 'the Zionist regime' was 'practically knocked out and crushed under the blows of the Islamic Republic'. America and Israel are referred to as 'the big Satan' and 'the little Satan'. Such language was common across the mediaeval world, Christian as well as Muslim, when everybody believed that the forces of good and evil would eventually see a final showdown followed by the reign of universal peace and harmony. Since the 1979 revolution, the Iranian regime has been doing everything in its power to revive this way of thinking. The religious establishment stokes beliefs in the second coming of the Hidden Imam. The Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini adopted the honorific of 'the Deputy of the Imam of the Age', and an official body discusses the details of the second coming. The TV broadcasts images of red tulips (the blood-stained martyrs) and a white-clad Mahdi riding off into the distance. This is all a far cry from the traditional language of global affairs when bland politicians and technocrats talked about sub-section three, paragraph five of the latest report by the IAEA or some other acronym-laden authority. It would be comforting to imagine that 'the re-mediaevalisation of the world' is a passing fad, triggered by Trump's narrow victory over an incompetent Democratic Party and the agonies of an eccentric Iranian regime. This would be a mistake: We are currently witnessing the overturning of all the basic assumptions about progress that have guided thinking since the Enlightenment. A growing cadre of strongmen treat their countries as their personal property and international relations as a test of their personal egos. Religion is exercising a growing influence on global politics. And a post-literate and brain-addled public craves nicknames and memes rather than demanding speeches and complicated reasoning. Whether re-mediaevalisation is compatible with the long-term survival of the species in a world of nuclear weapons and ultra-sonic ballistic missiles is open to doubt. BLOOMBERG
Daily Maverick
04-07-2025
- Politics
- Daily Maverick
The Fourth of July and the sad promise of a riotous 250th American birthday party in 2026
The Fourth of July is America's national birthday party, celebrating two-and-a-half centuries of life. But will Donald Trump's truculence mixed with his narcissism turn it into angry, contested territory? One of America's founding patriots, John Adams, a delegate from Massachusetts at the assembly in Philadelphia that had voted to declare their independence from Great Britain, wrote to his wife, Abigail, the day afterwards to describe that momentous decision. With lead drafter Thomas Jefferson, and Benjamin Franklin, Robert Livingston and Roger Sherman, Adams had helped craft the new country's 'Declaration of Independence'. The document became the foundation for what citizens thought about their new country and what they hoped it could become. As an expression of the political ideas of the Enlightenment, the declaration has had a major influence on the leaders of other liberation movements, including Vietnam's Ho Chi Minh. His declaration of Vietnamese independence in 1945 stated, ''All men are created equal. They are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights, among them are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness.' This immortal statement was made in the Declaration of Independence of the United States of America in 1776. In a broader sense, this means: All the peoples on the earth are equal from birth, all the peoples have a right to live, to be happy and free.' Despite frequent difficulties in delivering the mail back in the 18th century, John and his wife, Abigail, maintained a correspondence between themselves over decades, even when war or great distances separated them. He quietly relied upon her common sense and astute judgement far more than most people realised at the time. Adams eventually became the country's first vice-president and then president, after George Washington, and his chief confidante remained his wife. (Notably prickly, Adams was also responsible for the Alien and Sedition Acts — statutes embraced by Donald Trump in his own policies. History has its ironies.) In a letter to Abigail on 3 July 1776, in the immediate afterglow of his excitement over that vote for independence, John Adams wrote: The Second Day of July 1776, will be the most memorable Epocha, in the History of America. [The actual vote came on the 2nd of July, but its public dissemination came two days later, on the fourth, thus the annual holiday.] I am apt to believe that it will be celebrated, by succeeding Generations, as the great anniversary Festival. It ought to be commemorated, as the Day of Deliverance by solemn Acts of Devotion to God Almighty. It ought to be solemnized with Pomp and Parade, with Shews, Games, Sports, Guns, Bells, Bonfires and Illuminations from one End of this Continent to the other from this Time forward forever more. You will think me transported with Enthusiasm but I am not. — I am well aware of the Toil and Blood and Treasure, that it will cost Us to maintain this Declaration, and support and defend these States. — Yet through all the Gloom I can see the Rays of ravishing Light and Glory. I can see that the End is more than worth all the Means. And that Posterity will tryumph in that Days Transaction, even altho We should rue it, which I trust in God We shall not. Nostalgia and hope Like most American children, I came to love the Fourth of July, just as Adams had predicted we should. Until I was a teenager, I lived in a small town near Philadelphia, the city where that very declaration had been written. On this holiday, there was a local parade with detachments of fire fighters and their fire trucks, veterans organisations, scout troops and school bands — and maybe a modest military honour guard for the national flag, probably from some local military reservist detachment. During the day, there was a swimming competition at the local community pool, the obligatory picnics and barbecues (braais), and then, to cap off the day, there was a fireworks display once twilight yielded to night. (Because New Year's Eve in America comes in winter rather than mid-summer, naturally that holiday doesn't get the kind of treatment in America that it receives in South Africa.) Perhaps nostalgia is not a flawless guide to memory, but I still recall 4th of July celebrations through the pleasure of a child who could be part of a great national event. Those childhood Fourths of July came along at the peak of the post-war baby boom, during President Dwight Eisenhower's two terms of office. It was during the Cold War, yes, but that was a time largely without shooting wars. And it was a period of what, in hindsight, could have felt like a time of deep national satisfaction: Things were good, and they would certainly get better, so most people believed. In the years that followed, however, the rise of the counterculture, the civil rights and feminist revolutions all exploded on the scene, even as the Vietnam conflict and the growing protests against it greatly roiled the waters of that earlier era. Even so, during those contentious years, around the nation, people still gathered to enjoy their picnics and to watch the fireworks displays, even if angry debates and more threatened a rupture of the national consensus. Still, together with Thanksgiving, the Fourth of July continued to represent one of two nodal points of the nation's historical storyline. Fast forward to 1976. In that bicentennial year of the country's independence, the horrors of Richard Nixon's presidency, and of the Vietnam conflict, had been put aside as the nation strove to forget what those two deep blots on the nation's history had meant. The nation seemed ready to breathe more easily with the bicentennial commemoration. The national calendar was filled with celebrations and events. Those 'tall ships' — the beautiful, classic sailing vessels that serve as training ships for many of the world's navies — arrived in New York City en masse for a breathtaking display; the National Folklife Festival on Washington's National Mall delivered an exciting week that led to a sparkling outdoor concert and the inevitable fireworks. And other events, displays and concerts took place all around the nation. In 1976, the holiday was not a partisan affair. Later on, for my family and me, in the years after a three-year period of assignment in the United States from mid-1976 to 1979, we were again living and working abroad in Asia and Africa. While our official celebrations of the Fourth of July in each country we lived in did not include fireworks, we worked to create festive, non-political events designed to be inclusive. These events brought together resident Americans, friends and associates from among the respective host countries' populations, as well as host nation official representatives who delivered messages. While they were generally anodyne words, they spoke to good bilateral relations — as well as hopes for better. Sometimes we could draw upon the talents of a local choir, such as the Asihlabelele Choir in Eswatini (Swaziland), to sing medleys of traditional American patriotic songs at our official receptions, in addition to the two national anthems. (My wife and several of her musical colleagues did similar duty in Japan, drawing upon both an American and a Japanese repertoire to entertain the assembled gatherings.) While there may have been strife in the world, celebrations of the Fourth of July still seemed to be a moment where we could embrace the hopes John Adams had for future generations. Trump's public glorification Sadly, this year feels different, and next year may be worse. Just a few weeks ago, America's incumbent president hijacked what had originally been planned as a restrained celebration of the 250th anniversary of the founding of the American army and attempted to turn it into something else entirely. That may be a foretaste of worse to come. The parade on 14 June became a rather lacklustre affair that supposedly had been designed by Trump to rival the magnificence of Paris's traditional Bastille Day parade, the pomp and ceremony of the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace in London — or one of those massed parades comprising thousands of uniformed personnel, tanks and missiles on mobile launchers that take place in Pyongyang and Moscow. But the jumped-up parade on 14 June was effectively kidnapped into being a birthday parade in honour of the president, despite subsequent White House denials that anything like that had even been contemplated. Beyond that parade, and looking forward, remember the president has demanded his 'One Big, Beautiful Bill' — a massive budget and tax bill covering nearly the entire government — must be passed by Congress and delivered to him for his ceremonial signing on the Fourth of July. Assuming it passes with both houses of Congress in full agreement of all its provisions by that date — something still uncertain by the time of this writing — Trump will undoubtedly insist upon staging a glitzy signing event to coincide with the nation's birthday — and thus his own public glorification. But we should not forget that next year, Trump will still be president as the country marks its semiquincentennial (250th) birthday. You can be assured Donald Trump will want a gigantic event commemorating both the country's birth — and his own. After all, as one French king once put it, L'etat c'est moi [I am the state], and you can bet Donald J Trump believes in that adage as well for his own land. But any such celebration in 2026 will come amid the mid-term election cycle for the entire House of Representatives, a third of the Senate, and hundreds of state and local offices. Trump will undoubtedly be girded for battle as he excoriates his enemies, and probably will still be blathering on about blaming Joe Biden for all the economic, diplomatic and other problems his administration faces halfway through his term of office. Included in this, almost certainly, will be using that claim for his inability to end the Ukraine War or the conflicts of the Middle East, as well as the dislocations and ructions he himself has brought about in the global trading system, as he constantly changes the nation's tariffs. But on 4 July 2026, Trump almost certainly will be confronting demonstrations against his ICE and deportation policies, and the shrinking social welfare net (including cuts in Medicaid, SNAP, formerly known as food stamps, and many other programmes), and the ballooning national debt and government budget deficit brought on by his 'One Big, Beautiful Bill'. On the Fourth of July itself, he will be wrapping himself in the flag, or as many of them as he can hold, as he attempts to capture the national celebrations on the Mall of the anniversary for his own glorification. He will be unable to resist such a temptation. The country's 250th birthday party will become contested, partisan territory, if Donald Trump has any say in the matter. Remember, he once promised, 'he alone can fix things'. But it may well turn out that he will only be able to devastate them. If he could but know, John Adams' shade would not be pleased as yet one more national symbol becomes coarsened and personalised by this president. DM
The Hill
04-07-2025
- Politics
- The Hill
To prepare for America's 250th, go back and read the Declaration of Independence
In April we celebrated the 250th anniversary of the 'shot heard round the world.' It served as a wake-up call, if a faint one, for preparations for our nation's 250th birthday on Jul. 4, 2026. Most of us surely sense that forgetfulness is not our main problem when it comes to celebrating this milestone. Rather there is a deep ambivalence about how to think about our country — and our obligations as we approach this landmark year. Where does this ambivalence come from? Historian Allen Guelzo chalks it up to 'the polarization and cynicism of these times' which is surely true. Both left and right play their part in this as Guelzo notes. But the anniversary presents a special challenge for the left. As historian Beverly Gage has noted, for progressives 'rejecting traditional patriotism has become de rigeur: By kneeling for the national anthem, dismissing the Founders as enslavers, and expressing unease at the prospect of flying an American flag.' Even for those on the left who are more comfortable with flag-flying, they prefer to think of American patriotism as a question—'a conversation about what, if anything, makes America great,' as Gage would put it. This contrasts sharply with President Trump's recent executive order on patriotic education. No ambivalence there — patriotic education includes 'the concept that celebration of America's greatness and history is proper.' A question mark is thus met with an exclamation point. And yet both perspectives on America are required if we are to foster greater unity and shared purpose among Americans across the political spectrum in the upcoming year. The path will not be an easy one. James Davison Hunter's recent book 'Democracy and Solidarity' helps us understand how deep our polarization goes. Whereas we used to be able to draw on what he calls 'America's hybrid Enlightenment,' which married principles of the secular Enlightenment with elements of traditional Protestant Christian faith, to provide boundaries within which we could work through our political disagreements, this framework no longer holds. The result is a power struggle between rival visions of the meaning of America that often leads to political and civic dysfunction. Even our nation's founding principles become controversial in this tug-of-war. 'Concepts such as justice, fairness, freedom, rights, equality, equity, tolerance, inclusion, hate, and the like,' Hunter writes, 'are themselves contested and manipulable, because they too are lifted out of the context of larger conceptual frameworks or traditions from which those concepts derive their significance.' Divorced from the text of the Declaration and our 250-year-long conversation about its meaning, 'life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness' becomes yet one more tool to be used against one's opponents. In such an environment teachers understandably feel uncomfortable teaching patriotism as a recent survey shows. When it comes to goals and values that U.S. history teachers rate as important or very important only 50 percent include 'instilling civic pride in the nation.' Only 39 percent rate as important 'cultivating an appreciation of the United States as an exceptional nation.' President of Monticello Jane Kamensky distilled the uneasiness well when she noted on a panel at Jack Miller Center's National Summit on Civic Education last year: 'That's why civics left the classroom in the 1960s, it was that patriotism seemed too close to religion, and as religion was evacuating the classroom, patriotism went with it.' Notions of civil religion and American exceptionalism make it easy for patriotism to seem right-coded. And yet many on the left are increasingly recognizing the importance of patriotic civic education, even if the particulars are somewhat different from Trump administration guidelines. There is Professor Gage's game provocation to progressives — 'why not wear the [tricorn] hat and fly the flag?' More concretely, a recent report by the Progressive Policy Institute urges schools to 'teach what is distinctive and exceptional about America' and supports community service programs that 'can instill in young people a sense of purpose and patriotism.' The Educating for American Democracy project, which is cross-partisan but includes many on the left, contends that 'a healthy constitutional democracy always demands reflective patriotism.' There is a will there, so what is the way? What can Americans of good will from left and right do for the coming anniversary? They can turn to the text of the Declaration. As Danielle Allen has written, 'There are no silver bullets for the problem of civility in our political life. There are no panaceas for educational reform. But if I were to pretend to offer either, it would be this: All adults should read the Declaration closely; all students should have read the Declaration from start to finish before they leave high school.' Or as Steven Smith, political scientist at Yale University, puts it: 'In our current environment, as always, the best teachers are old books. Patriotism can be taught only through a long and deep engagement with the founding texts of our political tradition.' As we prepare to celebrate 250 years of America next year, let's follow their advice. Let's let those words that changed the world change us. Let's read them slowly and carefully, discuss them with others, seek guidance from those who know and, having reflected on those words, see our reflection in our fellow Americans. Thomas Kelly is the vice president of academic programs at the Jack Miller Center for Teaching America's Founding Principles and History.
AllAfrica
03-07-2025
- Politics
- AllAfrica
To some on this July Fourth, these truths aren't self-evident
'We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.' On the Fourth of July, we celebrate the passage in 1776 of the Declaration of Independence, whose second paragraph opens with these lofty words. Americans revere the Declaration both for its role in the nation's founding and as a summary of the nation's ideals. Our nation's founding took place during a historical period known as the Enlightenment, or the Age of Reason. In that heady era philosophers like Locke, Montesquieu and Rousseau were espousing new ideas that found expression in the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution and the Bill of Rights. It's no exaggeration to say that Enlightenment-era ideas fueled the American revolution, as well as the French Revolution a few years later. They include beliefs in: the power of human reason to understand the world and in mankind's ability to make continual progress; the importance of individual liberties and rights; the social contract, by which individuals gave their consent to be governed, and cannot legitimately be governed without that consent; the rule of law and the equality of individuals before the law; limitations on the powers of governments; religious freedom, but also the separation of church and state; the need to challenge traditional authority. Many Americans share those beliefs; for many of us they're almost conventional wisdom. But in the Enlightenment's heyday in the 17th and 18th centuries, when absolute monarchs ruled France, Austria and other European countries, they seemed radical. (Most of the Enlightenment philosophers, it should be said, were reformers, not revolutionaries.) Yet, as we celebrate this 249th anniversary of the Declaration, it's worth noting that these beliefs aren't shared unanimously even today. Recent years have seen the rise of an influential group of American intellectuals who are as skeptical of them as were many of the monarchs who ruled Europe during the Enlightenment. These 'post-liberal' intellectuals say liberal democracy has failed – and the failure began with the Enlightenment. As Vice President J.D. Vance counts himself among them, their ideas are worth taking seriously. US Vice President J.D. Vance. Photo: Wikimedia Commons Post-liberals think the Enlightenment ideas put too much emphasis on individual liberty, too little on the common good, on the welfare of the community. That's the short version. For the longer one, go back to the Enlightenment ideas I listed earlier. To a greater or lesser extent, and appreciating that not all post-liberals think exactly alike, the post-liberals have problems with many of them. To them: Mankind's ability to progress is far from unlimited; humans are inherently and irretrievably flawed. Besides, progress toward ever-increased individual freedom isn't really progress. Rather than individual liberties, we need to focus on social cohesion and healthy communities. Overemphasis on individual autonomy has 'atomized' us, breaking down important social bonds. 'Consent of the governed' is a meaningless abstraction. Rather than consenting to be governed, we inherit social traditions and structures at birth. Rule of law is important, equality before the law somewhat less so. Both need to reflect traditional values. We don't want an all-powerful state, but we need a government with the power to order a community and promote shared values and traditions. Religion can be an important part of social cohesion; government should promote it. The state should also work to nudge the culture in a socially conservative direction. Challenges to traditional authority are often rooted in concerns for individual rights and are thus problematic. These post-liberal ideas don't sound much like the truths the authors of the Declaration of Independence found self-evident. In self-defense, some post-liberals contend many of the founding fathers were more socially conservative than the Declaration implies. Others say the Declaration's ideals were fine but have been taken too far. These social liberals say they just want to restore some balance between concern for the individual and concern for the community. Still, it's hard to avoid thinking that Thomas Jefferson, the principal author of the Declaration, must be rolling over in his grave. Former longtime Wall Street Journal Asia correspondent and editor Urban Lehner is editor emeritus of DTN/The Progressive Farmer. This article, originally published on July 1 by the latter news organization and now republished by Asia Times with permission, is © Copyright 2025 DTN/The Progressive Farmer. All rights reserved. Follow Urban Lehner on X @urbanize
