Concord and Liberty

Lionel Trilling, discussing the situation of the novelist in late 1940's, says that the novelist will be aware of History, for he is the historian's heir,

but he will also be indifferent to History, sharing the vital stupidity of the World-Historical Figure, who of course is not in the least interested in History but only in his own demands upon life and thus does not succumb to History's most malign and subtle trick, which is to fix and fascinate the mind of men with the pride of their foreknowledge of doom.

This quotation is from the last page of "Art and Fortune" in The Liberal Imagination. I recalled the passage today while I was mulling over what Howard Dean might do now that he has suspended his campaign for the Democratic presidential nomination. It's easy, reading news stories on the Web, to get discouraged about his prospects. But Dean doesn't read the stories. He shares that vital stupidity.

He's certainly in a better position to influence U.S. politics than he was two years ago. He knows more about the country, about his capabilities, about the things that need to be changed. His recent statements emphasize that change is difficult. It doesn't happen overnight. I admire his patience and I'm trying to imitate it, i.e., trying not to expect him to do something brilliant tomorrow. I'll try to be satisfied to know that he's still out there, working on the next step.

Jacques Barzun, writing on the English Civil War, in connection with Hobbes' view of the state of nature:

In that war, worse than the battles were the sieges of towns; most casualties took place there--starvation and plague, often followed by massacres that did not spare women and children... The lives snuffed out is estimated at 200,000, or two and a half to three percent of the population. From Dawn to Decadence, page 267.

This would be the equivalent of over five million people being killed in the United States. Something to keep in mind in moments of discouragement. The United States has been and is a fortunate nation. The present problems are still minor compared to what many other nations have been through.

The Greeks named the Black Sea Pontus Euxinus, meaning "the Stranger Welcoming Sea." It was actually a dangerous place for mariners. Maybe they hoped the name would nudge it in the right direction.

That's sort of the principle behind the name of this site. I'm not sure there is any firm ground in American politics right now. It's really easy to get depressed, and I need to keep reminding myself to look for any signs of good news. That's the reason for the site name.

The name of this blog is taken from the title of an essay by José Ortega y Gasset, a brief commentary on Cicero's book On the Republic. Cicero began writing his book in 54 B.C., a few years before the outbreak of civil war in Rome. Ortega's essay was published in 1940, in Buenos Aires, when he was in exile after the Spanish Civil War.

One of the crucial points made in the essay is that a society requires "common consent in certain ultimate matters." As long as the element of common consent remains strong, the society can tolerate a great deal of political discord and still flourish. But if common consent fails, the society will split into irreconcilable groups, the first step on the road to civil war.

The area of common consent in the United States has undoubtedly been shrinking in the past few years--to the point where another bitterly contested election could lead to civil discord. I want to think about why this is happening, and whether there are any hopeful prospects for change.