Tuesday, November 29, 2022

The One

  

 

I recently had the opportunity to post a birthday greeting on a message board for Jimmy Carter, who, at the time of this writing, is 96 years old.  I will always hold a special regard for Jimmy Carter, as he was the first U.S. President that I ever voted for, but more than this, his personal character and integrity did much to restore faith in an office that had been severely tarnished in the public eye after President Richard Nixon resigned in disgrace two years before Carter’s election.  That was in 1974, and for those of us Baby Boomers who had grown up in the turbulent 1960s and were approaching adulthood in the 1970s, that resignation just tangibly reinforced a general mood of cynicism about those who wielded power in this country.  We who voted for Jimmy Carter saw in him a sort of national savior who would restore our trust in government.  It saddens me to see him regarded now by many as a good man who was an ineffectual or unaccomplished president.  I think that his legacy is underappreciated.  America had been sinking into an economic malaise throughout the 1970s, culminating in both high unemployment and high inflation, but President Carter oversaw the implementation of measures that provided long-term solutions to these problems.  He embraced deregulation as a means of using market forces to reinvigorate stagnant industries, appointed Paul Volker – the man who implemented the stern economic measures necessary to combat inflation – as Chairman of the Federal Reserve, and created the Department of Energy in order to directly address the energy crisis that was also raging at that time.  The end of his term was clouded by the taking of American hostages during the Iranian Revolution,  but although their release occurred after the inauguration of his successor, Ronald Reagan, the negotiations that led to this were done by the Carter Administration.  In any case, President Carter was a hero to many of us when he was elected, and for many of us – perhaps even more now than then – he remains a hero to this day.

As I reflect on Jimmy Carter’s life and career, I realize that there have been many times in the history of civilization when somebody appears at a critical moment to solve a crisis, or repair a long-festering problem that has grown to an unbearable magnitude.  For those of us in the 1970’s, Jimmy Carter was “the One” and, in more recent years, President Barack Obama was regarded by many – literally – as “the One”.  He was elected to office in the midst of the greatest economic crisis since the Great Depression, and played a critical role in ensuring that those who were best able to address the crisis could do so.  But, like Jimmy Carter, I think that he was saddled with unrealistically high expectations by his voters, who hoped that he would not only solve the country’s economic ills, but make great strides in healing more fundamental societal problems, like the nation’s racial divide.  Nevertheless, I think that he will be remembered as one of America’s better presidents, except among those who were and are unable to look past the fact that he is black.  Other American presidents come to mind who were perceived by many as national saviors when they assumed the office.  George Washington had already secured his reputation as the successful leader of the Revolutionary War, and the chairman of the Philadelphia Convention that led to the drafting of the Constitution, but as U.S. President he proved to Americans – and to the world – that a national leader could be elected and peacefully transfer power to a duly elected successor.  He was the original “One” for the United States.  Franklin Delano Roosevelt also comes to mind, having been elected during the Great Depression, and later faced with leading the nation in another world war.  (I exclude Abraham Lincoln from this list.  In retrospect, he was of course a national savior of the highest order, but at the time of his election, he was not considered as such, even among his supporters, and in fact his election was the precipitating cause of the Civil War.)



It we look back into the farthest reaches of the history of human civilization, we find that certain persons appear at critical moments to repair, or reform, or even create new institutions that will enable civilization to continue its forward progress.  Sargon the Great, the founder of the world’s earliest recorded empire, had humble beginnings as the son of a gardener, but after usurping the power of a regional king went on to unite the entire land of Mesopotamia around 2300 B.C., and his method of governance became a model for subsequent rulers over the next 2000 years.  Even earlier, to the east, Menes created the First Dynasty of what would become a long line of pharaonic rulers by uniting Upper and Lower Egypt, around 3000 B.C.  Of course, while remembered for creating and establishing the world’s earliest extensive civilizations, these men were conquerors, but to find one of history’s earliest examples of a liberator, we need only move forward in Egypt’s history to around 1200 B.C., when Biblical tradition tells us that Moses freed the Israelite slaves from Egyptian bondage, and laid the foundation for a new kingdom, with a unique and enduring monotheistic religion.  Moving further forward, to the 6th Century B.C., we come to the great lawgivers of Classical Greece and Rome, beginning with Solon, who cancelled all of the debts that oppressed much of the people of Athens, and expanded rights of democratic participation beyond the more affluent classes of citizenry.  Although Athens succumbed to tyranny again during Solon’s lifetime, within a generation of his death another great lawgiver, Cleisthenes, oversaw the restoration of representative government and enacted further reforms, so that he is known to posterity as “the father of Athenian democracy”.  Like Moses, who had enjoyed a privileged upbringing in the royal household of Egypt, both Solon and Cleisthenes had aristocratic backgrounds, with power and prestige, but also like Moses, their sympathies had turned to the oppressed within their societies, and they had taken upon themselves a personal calling to relieve that oppression.  And before the end of that same century, in Rome, monarchy would give way to a republic, after the rape of a married woman, Lucretia, by the son of Rome’s king, would inspire a man named Brutus to lead a revolution overthrowing the despotic royal family.  (Lucretia had died from suicide after her rape, adding to the general outrage fomented by the crime perpetrated upon her.  Are we seeing an echo of Lucretia’s martyrdom in present-day Iran, where the senseless murder of a young woman there by a member of the clerical tyranny has led to a general uprising?  The outcome of that revolt is at the time of this writing uncertain.  Perhaps what is still needed there is a leader: their own Brutus – perhaps a female one.)



In the past century the world has seen outstanding examples of “the One”.  As a young man, Mohandas Gandhi had studied law at University College, London, earned a degree, and became a lawyer.  But after moving to South Africa, he soon learned that his degree, his profession, and the wearing of European-style suits would not prevent him from being treated with contempt and condescension by the whites who lived there.  While he had harbored sympathies for the oppressed and underprivileged even before his move to South Africa, these humiliating personal experiences would galvanize him into an activism that would culminate in the liberation of his Indian homeland from the British.  Decades later, in the United States, a young Martin Luther King would witness the same expressions of contempt, condescension, and discrimination that had inspired Gandhi’s activism, and he adopted Gandhi’s philosophy of non-violent resistance in the pursuit of his own quest for widespread social reform.  Both men died from an assassin’s bullet, but not before they had left an enduring legacy to the cause of social justice and equality.

But what circumstances invite the arrival of such persons?  Often it is a single galvanizing event, which highlights a growing malaise that has reached the limits of toleration.  In ancient Rome, it was the rape of Lucretia that exposed the ugly arrogance of the ruling monarchical elite, and incited Brutus to lead its overthrow.  In the mid-twentieth century, the rise of Adolf Hitler’s Nazism and its associated abuses had been going on for years, downplayed and ignored by European powers reluctant to enter into another general war, including Britain, until the invasion of Poland compelled a response.  Britain and France declared war on Germany, but of particular significance was that this, in turn, was the signal event that brought Winston Churchill back from the political “wilderness” into a pivotal role, first as Britain’s Lord of the Admiralty, but eventually as its Prime Minister and wartime leader.  Churchill had warned of the Nazi menace for years, and is now remembered in history as the hero who saved his country, and western civilization in general, from that menace ultimately prevailing.  In the United States in 1955, the abduction, torture, and lynching of a teenaged black boy, Emmett Till, by white racists, and the subsequent acquittal of his murderers by an all-white jury, raised national awareness of the egregious abuses perpetrated against blacks, particularly in the American South, and paved the way for a re-energized civil rights movement that would eventually have Martin Luther King as one of its most vocal and transformative leaders.


Churchill and Roosevelt

Often, it is not an outrage but a general breakdown in some fundamental institution that proves to be the galvanizing event calling for a transformative leader or hero.  Such was the case with the Great Depression of 1939 and Great Recession of 2007, which contributed to the elections of Franklin Delano Roosevelt and Barack Obama, respectively, to the American presidency.  The Watergate scandal and President Nixon’s resignation similarly contributed to the successful election of President Jimmy Carter.  The rise of the great lawgiver Solon in ancient Greece occurred when he was granted special powers by his fellow Athenians in order to reform a dysfunctional government that had regularly succumbed to the competing ambitions of tyrants.  Sometimes a revolution that has already begun finds itself in search of a leader, and if a person of suitable talent and integrity answers that call, as George Washington did in the American Revolution, its chances of success greatly improve.  But at other times no such person emerges – or at least no such person of sufficient talent, vision, and integrity – and the revolution falters, and ultimately fails.  In recent history, this seems to have been the case with the “Arab Spring” uprisings in the 2010s, and the upheavals in Iran in 2017-2018.  There are of course worse outcomes for revolutions that fail to find a leader, and that is when a successful leader emerges who ultimately proves to be one lacking in character.

Such leaders put themselves forward, of course, as saviors and liberators, but, once in power, they become despots and conquerors.  The promises that they offer – to restore order, or prosperity, or former glory – represent a Faustian bargain in which more is lost than is gained, and in fact sometimes leads to general devastation.  This happened during the final decades of republican Rome, in the 1st Century B.C., when a growing divide between rich and poor created civil disorder, exacerbated by a Senate which pursued interests increasingly divergent from the general populace.  Two competing military leaders – first Marius, and then Sulla – took control of the capital city, and exacted punishing measures against the allies of the other, including executions and the taking of their property.  By the time that Julius Caesar had risen to power, in the middle of that century, with a promise to restore order, the Roman republic was dead, with the Senate a merely token vestige of representative government.  And while Julius Caesar died at the hands of a rebel Roman politician (another Brutus, although unlike his namesake, an unsuccessful revolutionary), the Roman imperial government was eventually secured and permanently established under the rule of his successor, Augustus Caesar.  A drama not unlike this was repeated in the chaotic years of the French Revolution, when the mass executions which occurred during what came to be known as the Terror were followed by the rise of Napoleon Bonaparte.  And while he initially brought glory, power, and prestige to a renewed France, and fostered innovations in both science and jurisprudence, his personal thirst for power and general domination in Europe produced a succession of wars, ending in the humiliation of France, the decimation of its armies, and the exile of Napoleon himself.



Caesar and Bonaparte are two conspicuous examples of the dark side of “the One”.  Each promised to restore order to a people that had been thrown into a violent, destructive chaos by long-festering economic distresses and the failure of government to address them.  The promise of order, security, and safety under such circumstances is a particularly effective means for men such as these to rise to power.  Others of their kind have resorted to similar promises, generally involving the restoration of a former greatness to their people.  Initially, such leaders seem to make good on these promises, until their actions lead to a final, devastating end.  When Germany, in the wake of its defeat in World War I and the global economic depression that followed a decade later, was left humiliated, militarily weak, and bankrupt, Adolf Hitler promised to restore a former glory that would last for a millennium.  But like Napoleon, his ambition to conquer his European neighbors, including Russia, ultimately led to defeat and devastation.  And here, perhaps, is a clue to spotting the poison in the promises of leaders such as these, who offer a way to bring back a lost grandeur, because the means that they pursue often run directly counter to what genuinely made their people great.  Throughout the 18th and 19th centuries, Germany was renowned for producing some of the greatest musicians, mathematicians, scientists, and philosophers that the world had ever seen, but Hitler did not see its greatness there.  Instead, he found it in darker places, including Germany’s historical tendency to militarism, and its bigotry and prejudices, most notably antisemitism.  One could argue that Chairman Mao, and now Chairman Xi, pursued and are pursuing the same course with the Han Chinese, who have contributed to the world a rich and time-honored tradition of philosophical and spiritual thought in the East, and who have also been renowned for their entrepreneurial acumen.  (My roommate in college, who was Vietnamese, used to tell me stories of his childhood back there, and how if one or two Han Chinese families moved into a village, they would eventually own all of the shops and stores in that village.  It was a back-handed complement, to be sure, but a sincere one.)  The stifling, state-controlled economies of Mao and Xi have all but destroyed freedom of thought and discourse, and have dampened the entrepreneurial spirit that had once thrived in places like Hong Kong, and still does in Taiwan today.  In their avowed aims to make China and the Chinese great again, the programs and policies of these men have actually cut their greatness to the quick.  For those of us who believe that the foundation of America’s particular greatness has always been its diversity, the promises of Donald Trump to “make America great again” seem to be grounded in the same paradoxical pursuit of the opposite.  Rather than embracing diversity, he encouraged suspicion and even hatred of potential immigrants, and condoned racial divisiveness as well.



Sadly, these counterfeit versions of “the One” only seem to be generally recognized as such too late, after their darker designs have been carried out, with great sacrifice, and their promises have been exposed as illusions.  The cost ranges from a loss of liberty, to national shame and disgrace for violent, oppressive acts perpetrated on innocents, to defeat at the hands of external enemies, to widespread devastation and ruin.  It seems that it is a lesson we always fail to learn about these counterfeit saviors, who, like the Antichrist of the New Testament, come with promises of “peace and safety” but always at a soul-stealing price.  Their programs involve the identification of an enemy – internal, external, or both – that must be resisted, overcome, utterly defeated, destroyed.  And it becomes increasingly evident that the counterfeit savior is at least as intent on bringing glory and power to himself as he is on restoring the welfare of his people.  This presents a stark contrast to those nobler incarnations of “the One” who usually tend to their own missions stoically, and often in the face of harsh criticism and even dogged opposition.  Service for them is a personal sacrifice rather than a means of personal exaltation.  Of course, this does not mean that they are flawless human beings.  If one looks closely at any of their lives, almost inevitably there will be some policies or actions of theirs that are open to criticism, or reproach, and perhaps this extends into their personal lives as well.  Their particular brands of heroism might be less regarded as such over the passage of time, when reviews of their characters are subjected to more modern standards.  Even contemporary heroes, such as Winston Churchill and Mahatma Gandhi, had little or no admiration for each other.  But particular crises call for particular heroes, with a set of talents and qualities best suited to address them, and we should be grateful that sainthood is not a general requirement, else their appearance would be even more rare.  The heroic leaders are simply committed to healing a fractured world, with whatever talents they might be able to muster, and in spite of the flaws and limitations that they share with the rest of us.

I know that the standard response to musings like these is that we should not hope for, or look for, a hero of any kind to guide us, or save us, or remedy the most toxic ills that plague our society.  There was a time when that  would have been my own pat response.  But over the course of my life, as I've surveyed the major events that happened during that time, and read about others in more distant times, I've come to the conclusion that at certain critical junctures, we need a good, enlightened leader, who will bring out the best in all of us.  I have a sense that we are at such a critical juncture now.  My hope is that in my country, as well as among the peoples of the world at large, the majority will be able to exercise discretion in finding, and supporting, a noble version of "the One", and reject the ignoble pretenders.