Americans aren't the only ones

Although "nations" are a rather recent phenomenon on the world stage, there is no dearth of supporters who wouldn't trade them for anything. Americans are right at the top of the list, but a lot of others, like Russia, China, a couple of the Southeast Asian group or a few in Africa would like to get in on the deal. I don't know what the fascination is to be honest, just what is it that makes them so desirable?

A lot of you don't get the reason for the question. It's quite clear that we've had nations forever and it's as natural as four seasons in some parts of the world or rain in spring (if you're from the Northern Hemisphere). Actually, prior to 1648 and Treaty of Westphalia, there weren't ever really "nations" in our current understanding of the world, but, hey, why should we let historical facts get in the way of our beliefs? Life is certainly easier when you just pick and choose what suits us rather than getting the bigger picture. Why we have border where we have them or whether they make sense, well, those are issues that have been decided, of course, so there's no need to worry our little heads about them. Or is there?

In the Western Hemisphere (a rather artificial construct, if I may say so) 1776 is a year worth nothing. In the Eastern, however, it's 1789. In both years, revolutions took place and both these revolutions had a significant impact on everything that followed. The former was a conscious (even if perhaps, unnecessary) decision; the latter, a spontaneous act that developed into something that no one foresaw. This raises a question whether revolutions are a matter of choice or fate. I don't know. What I do know, however, is that some folks peg their beliefs on the one, while others will tell you it was the other date that matters. It really doesn't matter at all.

Sometimes I think that the petty and silly animosity between Americans and the French is about who had the "real" or the "true" or the "better" revolution. Depending on who you are reading, one year or the other can be used as marking the shift of humanity into "modernity". Whoopee. So far, no one's been able to make clear to me why that makes any difference at all.

When we look at the facts, we're left with this: a lot of violence occurred, a lot of blood flowed, a lot of innocent people suffered, and a lot of misery was visited upon the participants. In the decades that followed, a lot of violence occurred, a lot of blood flowed, a lot of innocent people suffered, and a lot of misery was visited upon those who benefitted from the "revolutions". And for what? For me, that's the key question.

The reasons for both were more similar than different: injustice, be it because of taxes or the simple ability to feed one's family. The results of both were more similar than different too: a different group of oppressors took over, a lot of people had to pay taxes and couldn't feed their families, and we have a different illusion of what our role is in the grand scheme of things.

Don't get me wrong, there are good things that came out of both. But ... are we moderns really better off than those revolutionaries. I often wonder.

Tomorrow's Bastille Day

Tomorrow, though most of my francophobic (Freedom fries?) countrypeople don't know it, is Bastille Day. This is the French equivalent of America's 4th of July: a great day for praising one's own greatness (which the Grande Nation is very adept at, like their American cousins) and for celebrating one's accomplishments (even if they are drenched in blood). More than anything, it makes a great day for flag-waving. That makes July a pretty red-white-and-blue month, I suppose.

Far be it from me to pick on the French. Even they don't necessarily want to speak English when I'm there, and even if they do frown upon my speaking German, I like France; I particularly like Paris, Bordeaux, and Avignon, where I have been fortunate enough to spend more time. No, the French, as much as anybody, perhaps even rivaling Americans, are deeply imbued with that, as Einstein called it, "infantile disease" called Patriotism.

As I pointed out just a few posts ago, Americans may be suffering from a terminal case of the disease, but the French are not far behind. There are lot of others, like the British, the Dutch, the Russians, the Chinese, just to name a few, who are not far behind. Like I said then, I don't get it. I just don't understand it. There have been a lot of disastrous things happen in the course of human history, and most of them have been perpetrated either by religions or countries (or what we, in retrospect, call countries or nations). Whatever truly great things that have happened in the course of human history, like the mastery of fire, the discovery of the wheel, the finding of a cure for some terminal disease, have all been done by individual human beings (with the huge support of other human beings from other countries and other cultures). It's not the country that makes the difference, it's the person.

When you look around you to see what is great about the world you live in, you'll always find that, first and foremost, it was brought to you by another person. People matter. Not organizations, not localities, not tribes, not regions and not countries ... people matter. I don't know why that is so hard to grasp, but apparently it is.

The real difference, in my mind, between people and countries is simple: people are here now; they are with you; you can feel, smell and touch them; they are real and concrete. Nations, on the other hand, are mere abstractions. They serve their purpose, to be sure, but it is a small purpose in contrast to what another human being can do for you.

Think about it.

Wrong? Wrong.

Once again, it all seems so very simple. Most of us don't know who we are, who the others are, what they want or what we want. We have our heads filled with other people's ideas and lose sight of who we are ourselves and why we might even be here to begin with. Granted, all of these "problems", if that's what you want to call them, are not of the simple kind, and the answers to the questions they raise are not always comfortable either.

Some psychologists say we're simply running from ourselves, and while it may not be absolutely true, there is a certain relative truth to it still. We all lead overly hectic lives, lives of non-stop whatever: work, activities, events, lunches, social events, home repairs, car repairs, children's activities, parents' night, Sunday school, church, sports events ... the list just goes on and on and the fuller our lives become, the emptier everything seems to be. We go off in search of more and more, never satisfied and never content. We're tired, worn out, run down, stressed, and in the end, depressed. Oh what a wonderful life we've made for ourselves.

The simplicity of the solution is baffling: we've fallen victim to quantity, we have no understanding of quality; it's not just that less is more, rather at bottom we have to be different. And there we have the rub. That's what we ultimately fear the most (other than death, I suppose, but we'll leave that to Heidegger): ourselves. I think we're so adamant about what we "believe" because we know, deep down, we don't know what to believe anymore, we're simply afraid that what we've been led to believe really doesn't have the value we were told it had. Welcome to modern life.

Yes, in the end, it's all so very simple. There is no leader, no political party, no company, no organization, no club, no group, no movement that is going to save you from yourself. What the deluded rugged individualists have right is that when all is said and done, it's just you; you are all you have to fall back on. What they have absolutely wrong is that it ends there. The fact that in the end there is only us is what each and every one of us on this planet have in common.

What we have in common should bring us together not drive us apart. We should find comfort in the fact that everyone else is really not so different from ourselves. If we don't - and apparently we don't - all that's holding us back is fear. Fear that we're not who or what we think we are. What we should know, however, is that we are not really different than anyone else. If you ever want to get over your fears, you have to face them.

Wrong? Right.

Did you give it any thought? Did you take a moment and think about what you really think about other people? I doubt it, to be perfectly honest, even if I am willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. Let's face it: we don't like to think about what we think, most likely because we'd realize what it is and how silly it is as well.

Aristotle once quipped that the unexamined life is not worth living, but we've spent millennia trying to show him he had no idea what he was talking about, but to no avail. If our lives were all so worth living, why are we obviously trying to kill ourselves in so many slow and painful ways? OK, the world-war thing was a bit more active, I'll grant you that, but when that didn't work, it seems we resorted to more torturous means.

For you humanists out there, the behavior we see is that of the most highly evolved creature on the planet; for you fundamentalists, we're talking about the pinnacle of Creation. In either case, it's a pretty sad state of affairs. Really. The world we've made around us is the best we can do? We're (and I mean each and every one of us) all being all we can be? I don't think so. I think we're making a pretty sad showing. We'd better hope their aren't aliens out there observing us. This is pretty embarrassing behavior we putting on display.

Yes, you are perfectly correct in observing that I'm not sounding very optimistic about us as a species. I'm not. I think it's sad that the best we have to show for ourselves is envy, distrust, anger, and aggression. Oh ... sorry ... I forgot greed. Can't forget greed, you know. Or maybe you can: what is most obvious is what we take least notice of. We just assume that's the way things are.

Which brings me back to last-time's Menschenbild: did you think about it? I doubt it, to be perfectly honest, even if I am willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. No, that would require effort, to begin with, and what would happen if we found out that what we think of others isn't in line with everything else we think we believe? Right: that's the guaranteed beginning of a psychological crisis, and we wouldn't want another one of those now, would we? No, I don't think so.

No, the world is simply a terrible and violent place; one we'd like nothing more than to get away from. Our own interests are OK, those people we like are OK, most of the family can be tolerated, but other than that, well, there are just too many people thinking too many weird things. At least I'm different, you are thinking. And you're glad you're just you ... even if you are like everybody else.

Right? Wrong.

Was the last post a little depressing for you? Good. It should have been. We're the only species that knows what a free lunch is, but we can still screw it up. Why is that?

I suppose the answer to that question depends on what you think we are - as a species - or why we might even be here, or whether there's a purpose to all of this, or perhaps whether it doesn't matter in the end at all.

The Germans have a word that I just love (well, they have a number of words I love, but this is really one of my favorites): Menschenbild. A Mensch is a person; a Bild is a picture, so in simplest terms its a picture of persons; that is, it's our view (and understanding) of what a person really is, what makes a human being a human being. It's our view of what people essentially are.

Be honest. Most of you have never stopped to think about it. Oh sure, I'm convinced that every single one of you has a Menschenbild, and I'm guessing it's pretty much your own. I'm also just as sure that you have no idea how you got it, when you developed it, or why it is the way it is, but you have one nevertheless. What's so fascinating about taking a foreign-language approach to something you take for granted is the fact that it can get you looking at something quite everyday in a new light. Having a word, a concept, to describe it, it's very simple to ask someone, So, what's your Menschenbild? Have you ever thought about the answer? You should.

Why? Because no matter what it is, that Menschenbild of yours, it determines, forms, shapes, colors, and influences every single action you take when dealing with another human being. Now, I'm not talking about some grand or grandiose image of the meaning of humanity. No, I'm simply talking about what you think makes a person and why. We all have such an image, but we don't all know how we got the one we have, nor why we have it, and most importantly, just what an important role in our lives that image plays.

For some of you we're all sinners, for others selfish, greedy grubbers; for some we're all deep down fundamentally good, for others fundamentally bad. If you've never thought about it, maybe you should. You'd be surprised what might come of it. Your Menschenbild lies behind all your dealings with every other human being, and for that reason, it's worth knowing what it is. More importantly, though, whatever it is says more about you than anyone else.