The Berlin Wall was torn down in December, 1989. The Soviet Union was dissolved on December 26, 1991. The USA, apparently, had won the Cold War.
Here’s the crowd on top of the Berlin Wall in 1989:
Many people were quite optimistic. One such was the political philosopher Francis Fukuyama, who declared “the end of history”. By this he meant that the “dialectic”, the struggle between opposing historical forces, was over. Liberal Democracy had emerged as the final synthesis. Good times had come at last. (Oversimplifying a little.)
It didn’t work out that way, did it? The struggle between Communism and Capitalism had been resolved in favour of Capitalism. But it was soon obvious that the Capitalists no longer had any use for Liberal Democracy, and, starting with Ronald Reagan, set about dismantling the structure that Liberal Democracy had built. Gradually, the word “liberal” was turned into a pejorative, replacing “communist” in the lexicon of insult.
The impending Trump administration is dedicated to a comprehensive trashing of what still remains. And people voted for this! Many people, who will soon themselves suffer the consequences.
The Democratic Party appears bewildered. Times are good and getting better. Just look at the figures! Consider the infrastructure improvements, medical coverage extended, drug prices reduced! And more to come! Let the good times roll!
But they lost the election anyhow.
What went wrong? Maybe Fyodor Dostoevsky has a clue.
In 1866, Dostoevsky wrote Notes from Underground, a monologue by a bitter and spiteful man who lives an “underground” solitary life. It’s worth reading, although the Underground Man is quite nasty, and not much fun to be with.
One of the things that attracts his hatred is the effort to use reason and science to create a good life for all. He calls this the “Crystal Palace”, all based on “logarithms” and “two plus two equals four”. In the Crystal Palace, he claims, you have to behave yourself. You’re not allowed to stick out your tongue.
But the Underground Man insists that he has a right to stick out his tongue.
You believe in a palace of crystal that can never be destroyed—a palace at which one will not be able to put out one’s tongue or make a long nose on the sly. And perhaps that is just why I am afraid of this edifice, that it is of crystal and can never be destroyed and that one cannot put one’s tongue out at it even on the sly.
Here’s what Dostoevsky, speaking as the Underground Man, predicts:
I, for instance, would not be in the least surprised if all of a sudden, A PROPOS of nothing, in the midst of general prosperity a gentleman with an ignoble, or rather with a reactionary and ironical, countenance were to arise and, putting his arms akimbo, say to us all: “I say, gentlemen, hadn’t we better kick over the whole show and scatter rationalism to the winds, simply to send these logarithms to the devil, and to enable us to live once more at our own sweet foolish will!” What is annoying is that he would be sure to find followers—such is the nature of man.
Maybe so.
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