On Virtues And Politics
By: Opinion - Andre du PisaniIf the State is going to fall, it is from the belly - Akan proverb
RECENTLY I experienced the last of the great epic films in the
trilogy based on Tolkien's prophetic work, The Return of the King.
The narrative filled with amazing events and encounters amounted
to much more than who wins, who loses and who gets the Ring.
Alert readers will recognise how strongly reminiscent this
formulation is of the notion of politics; "who gets what, when and
how".
At bottom, the film (based on Tolkien's masterpiece written
during the darkness of World War II) is a meditation on the value
of tradition and heritage, the fragility of political order and
social systems, and the true essence of friendship, loyalty, love
and heroism (Ronge, 2003, p.18).
When The Return of the King was crafted, the world experienced
war and devastation on a scale hitherto unseen, many critics
assuming it was an allegory reflecting the events of that
destructiveness.
They saw Sauron as Hitler and the Orcs as Nazis.
Middle Earth was Europe (the primary theatre of war) and the
Hobbits, Elves and other races were the nations of the world who
rallied to oppose the darkness of fascism or maybe communism.
Tolkien opposed that idea because he said an allegory would
confine his work to a specific time and place.
He believed that he had written a more universal work on the
nature of the human spirit [1], a meditation on our capacity for
evil, good, service and failure.
History has proved him right.
Succeeding generations, from the flower children through the
anti-Vietnam student protesters of the 1960s to contemporary social
movements, have connected Tolkien's work to the issues of their
time and regarded it as a victory for the weak, the marginal, the
downtrodden.
Tolkien inspired them in their opposition to the war-loving
military empires of their day (again much in evidence in our time)
or to the ruthless greed of global capitalism, in the case of
contemporary social movements.
Namibia Since we have entered a year of special political
significance, our challenge is to rediscover the relevance and
freshness of Tolkien's vision for our lives and politics.
The real key to the final chapter is simple.
So simple, in fact, that one can easily miss the point.
It is about two travellers who reach the end of their respective
journeys and, for Tolkien, the journey was a powerful symbol.
In 1956, he articulated his perception of the journey in these
words: "Some persons are (or seem to be) more calculable than
others.
But that is due to their fortune rather than their nature.
The calculable people reside in fixed circumstances, so it is
difficult to observe them in situations that are strange.
That is a good reason for sending the Hobbits on a journey far
from their settled home into strange lands and dangers".
Tolkien wanted to strip away everything that was safe, familiar
and routine to show how that loss reveals the inner elements of a
character.
When you confront the unknown and the extreme, said Tolkien, you
perceive the true essence of the human spirit.
That discovery is the theme of The Return of the King, in which
Tolkien contrasts two journeys and invites the reader to compare
and reflect upon the consequences.
The more conventional journey is that of the military hero
Aragorn.
He is the proud, brave warrior who has lived in exile and now
returns to claim his royal birthright and heal the injustices and
pain of the past that have been inflicted on the people of Middle
Earth.
Namibia, too, has its crop of genuine (and some self-styled)
military heroes who, in their attempt to claim their reward,
deprive others of their validity.
We effectively celebrate several liberation struggles and
histories and have very little to show in the form of transcendent
unity and reconciliation.
There is a growing tendency to conflate the interests of the
governing elites with those of the nation.
The divide between those who went into exile, even if it was to
survive on the generosity of others, runs deep in our national
political life.
Upon their return many have become accustomed to rank and
wealth.
Many make the claim that their suffering and pain outweighed
those of the people who faced the brutality of apartheid during the
long winters of discontent inside the country.
Consequently, they feel that they are entitled to enjoy most of
the fruits of Independence and are quick to display unashamedly the
benefits of their newly acquired status and power: designer labels,
executive cars, lavish homes and commercial farms.
Some former exiles seem to have loved Namibia and their fellow
Namibians only in their absence from the country.
Since their return, the name of the game is their own personal
advancement, often at the expense of others and in denial of their
own history.
Friendship hardly exists, for in friendship there is no anguish,
resentment, jealous or suffering.
We love our friends as they are, not for the positions that they
occupy in public life or the patronage that they have to extend to
us the social cachet of post-apartheid Namibian high life.
Another feature of our political life is how mediocre it has
become through arrogance and a lack of imagination.
There is hardly a national debate on HIV-AIDS, poverty
alleviation, corruption, gender-based violence, the World Trade
Organisation (WTO), neo-liberal economics, the New Partnership for
Africa's Development (Nepad), Vision 2030, sustainable development
or Zimbabwe, to mention but a few.
Even at the University of Namibia (Unam) and the Polytechnic of
Namibia, such debates are all too rare.
In some quarters, attempts to have such debates are viewed with
deep suspicion; to debate these and other issues is viewed as
deviant and dangerous.
The other journey in The Return of the King is the quest of
Frodo, the humble but pure-hearted Hobbit who must carry the Ring
into Mordor to destroy it in the eternal fires of Mt Doom.
With him go his loyal servant, Samwise Gamgee, and the
malevolent Gollum.
It is an ironic partnership because Gollum is virtually the
twisted alter ego of Frodo, a ridiculous portrayal of what would
happen to the Hobbit if he succumbed to the Ring's seductions of
power.
Frodo, the gentlest of spirits, as he journeys to the most
dangerous parts of Middle Earth, also discovers the darkest parts
of his own spirit, previously unknown to him but part of his inner
being.
In the words of Barry Ronge (2003, p.18): "Frodo and Gollum are
the good and evil custodians of the Ring, implacably opposed to
each other yet utterly dependent on each other to achieve their
opposed goals".
Heroes In The Return of the King, Tolkien introduces two
different kinds of hero: Aragorn, who engages in bloody battle to
win the freedom of his people; and Frodo, whose journey is largely
of the inner kind.
On his journey he is accompanied by only one true friend.
By showing us Aragorn and Frodo, Tolkien makes us question who
is the greater hero and who has won the nobler victory.
He also ponders what their achievements have done for their own
souls.
In the film, the climactic battle of the Pellenor Fields is the
turning point of this epic drama.
It contains compelling and terrifying footage of
computer-generated armour-clad soldiers, dragons and gigantic
multi-tusked elephants.
Yet Tolkien did not write to glorify war.
He hated the ambition and greed for power that create war.
The battle for ownership of the Ring is a symbol of how
everyone, even the noblest among us, can slip into the trap of
desiring too much power.
As the quotation at the beginning of this brief article reads:
"If the state is going to fall, it is from the belly".
Like all societies, Namibia too has its Aragorns and Frodos, its
high-profile public heroes who desire to write history in blood,
and its countless unsung private heroes.
Similarly, most of our virtues have humanity as their objective:
therein lie their greatness and their limitation.
True compassion, for example, is the one virtue that lets us
open ourselves not just to all humanity but also to all living
beings or, at the very least, to all suffering beings.
Humanity, when we speak of it as a virtue, is nearly synonymous
with compassion: our ability to show love, loyalty, respect.
As Namibians our challenge is no less than to expunge the
violence (gender-based, physical, mental, structural, sexual) that
appears to be the one constant in our politics - primitive
aggressiveness - despite the lip-service which our politicians of
various persuasions pay to the need for tolerance, peace and
reconciliation.
We need a new resolve, new practices to transcend our violent
history.
This act of critical self-examination will, however, be
incomplete if it is wholly self-centred.
Like Frodo we need to undertake a new journey.
By this I mean that it is not enough to re-examine our own
history, but to equally re-examine the very nature of other ideas
with which we have been interacting.
Above all, we need to rediscover the spirituality of this and
other continents.
FOOTNOTE [1] I am deeply indebted to Barry Ronge for this
insight.
REFERENCES Comte-Sponville, Andre (2001) A Short Treatise on the
Great Virtues, The Uses of Philosophy in Everyday Life.
London: William Heinemann.
Ronge, Barry (December, 14 2003) End of the Journey, in Sunday
Times Magazine, pp. 18-20.
Soyinka, Wole (1991) The Credo of Being and Nothingness.
Ibadan: Spectrum Books.
* Andre du Pisani teaches politics and philosophy at the
University of Namibia.
The narrative filled with amazing events and encounters amounted to
much more than who wins, who loses and who gets the Ring. Alert
readers will recognise how strongly reminiscent this formulation is
of the notion of politics; "who gets what, when and how". At
bottom, the film (based on Tolkien's masterpiece written during the
darkness of World War II) is a meditation on the value of tradition
and heritage, the fragility of political order and social systems,
and the true essence of friendship, loyalty, love and heroism
(Ronge, 2003, p.18). When The Return of the King was crafted, the
world experienced war and devastation on a scale hitherto unseen,
many critics assuming it was an allegory reflecting the events of
that destructiveness. They saw Sauron as Hitler and the Orcs as
Nazis. Middle Earth was Europe (the primary theatre of war) and the
Hobbits, Elves and other races were the nations of the world who
rallied to oppose the darkness of fascism or maybe communism.
Tolkien opposed that idea because he said an allegory would confine
his work to a specific time and place. He believed that he had
written a more universal work on the nature of the human spirit
[1], a meditation on our capacity for evil, good, service and
failure. History has proved him right. Succeeding generations, from
the flower children through the anti-Vietnam student protesters of
the 1960s to contemporary social movements, have connected
Tolkien's work to the issues of their time and regarded it as a
victory for the weak, the marginal, the downtrodden. Tolkien
inspired them in their opposition to the war-loving military
empires of their day (again much in evidence in our time) or to the
ruthless greed of global capitalism, in the case of contemporary
social movements. Namibia Since we have entered a year of special
political significance, our challenge is to rediscover the
relevance and freshness of Tolkien's vision for our lives and
politics. The real key to the final chapter is simple. So simple,
in fact, that one can easily miss the point. It is about two
travellers who reach the end of their respective journeys and, for
Tolkien, the journey was a powerful symbol. In 1956, he articulated
his perception of the journey in these words: "Some persons are (or
seem to be) more calculable than others. But that is due to their
fortune rather than their nature. The calculable people reside in
fixed circumstances, so it is difficult to observe them in
situations that are strange. That is a good reason for sending the
Hobbits on a journey far from their settled home into strange lands
and dangers". Tolkien wanted to strip away everything that was
safe, familiar and routine to show how that loss reveals the inner
elements of a character. When you confront the unknown and the
extreme, said Tolkien, you perceive the true essence of the human
spirit. That discovery is the theme of The Return of the King, in
which Tolkien contrasts two journeys and invites the reader to
compare and reflect upon the consequences. The more conventional
journey is that of the military hero Aragorn. He is the proud,
brave warrior who has lived in exile and now returns to claim his
royal birthright and heal the injustices and pain of the past that
have been inflicted on the people of Middle Earth. Namibia, too,
has its crop of genuine (and some self-styled) military heroes who,
in their attempt to claim their reward, deprive others of their
validity. We effectively celebrate several liberation struggles and
histories and have very little to show in the form of transcendent
unity and reconciliation. There is a growing tendency to conflate
the interests of the governing elites with those of the nation. The
divide between those who went into exile, even if it was to survive
on the generosity of others, runs deep in our national political
life. Upon their return many have become accustomed to rank and
wealth. Many make the claim that their suffering and pain
outweighed those of the people who faced the brutality of apartheid
during the long winters of discontent inside the country.
Consequently, they feel that they are entitled to enjoy most of the
fruits of Independence and are quick to display unashamedly the
benefits of their newly acquired status and power: designer labels,
executive cars, lavish homes and commercial farms. Some former
exiles seem to have loved Namibia and their fellow Namibians only
in their absence from the country. Since their return, the name of
the game is their own personal advancement, often at the expense of
others and in denial of their own history. Friendship hardly
exists, for in friendship there is no anguish, resentment, jealous
or suffering. We love our friends as they are, not for the
positions that they occupy in public life or the patronage that
they have to extend to us the social cachet of post-apartheid
Namibian high life. Another feature of our political life is how
mediocre it has become through arrogance and a lack of imagination.
There is hardly a national debate on HIV-AIDS, poverty alleviation,
corruption, gender-based violence, the World Trade Organisation
(WTO), neo-liberal economics, the New Partnership for Africa's
Development (Nepad), Vision 2030, sustainable development or
Zimbabwe, to mention but a few. Even at the University of Namibia
(Unam) and the Polytechnic of Namibia, such debates are all too
rare. In some quarters, attempts to have such debates are viewed
with deep suspicion; to debate these and other issues is viewed as
deviant and dangerous. The other journey in The Return of the King
is the quest of Frodo, the humble but pure-hearted Hobbit who must
carry the Ring into Mordor to destroy it in the eternal fires of Mt
Doom. With him go his loyal servant, Samwise Gamgee, and the
malevolent Gollum. It is an ironic partnership because Gollum is
virtually the twisted alter ego of Frodo, a ridiculous portrayal of
what would happen to the Hobbit if he succumbed to the Ring's
seductions of power. Frodo, the gentlest of spirits, as he journeys
to the most dangerous parts of Middle Earth, also discovers the
darkest parts of his own spirit, previously unknown to him but part
of his inner being. In the words of Barry Ronge (2003, p.18):
"Frodo and Gollum are the good and evil custodians of the Ring,
implacably opposed to each other yet utterly dependent on each
other to achieve their opposed goals". Heroes In The Return of the
King, Tolkien introduces two different kinds of hero: Aragorn, who
engages in bloody battle to win the freedom of his people; and
Frodo, whose journey is largely of the inner kind. On his journey
he is accompanied by only one true friend. By showing us Aragorn
and Frodo, Tolkien makes us question who is the greater hero and
who has won the nobler victory. He also ponders what their
achievements have done for their own souls. In the film, the
climactic battle of the Pellenor Fields is the turning point of
this epic drama. It contains compelling and terrifying footage of
computer-generated armour-clad soldiers, dragons and gigantic
multi-tusked elephants. Yet Tolkien did not write to glorify war.
He hated the ambition and greed for power that create war. The
battle for ownership of the Ring is a symbol of how everyone, even
the noblest among us, can slip into the trap of desiring too much
power. As the quotation at the beginning of this brief article
reads: "If the state is going to fall, it is from the belly". Like
all societies, Namibia too has its Aragorns and Frodos, its
high-profile public heroes who desire to write history in blood,
and its countless unsung private heroes. Similarly, most of our
virtues have humanity as their objective: therein lie their
greatness and their limitation. True compassion, for example, is
the one virtue that lets us open ourselves not just to all humanity
but also to all living beings or, at the very least, to all
suffering beings. Humanity, when we speak of it as a virtue, is
nearly synonymous with compassion: our ability to show love,
loyalty, respect. As Namibians our challenge is no less than to
expunge the violence (gender-based, physical, mental, structural,
sexual) that appears to be the one constant in our politics -
primitive aggressiveness - despite the lip-service which our
politicians of various persuasions pay to the need for tolerance,
peace and reconciliation. We need a new resolve, new practices to
transcend our violent history. This act of critical
self-examination will, however, be incomplete if it is wholly
self-centred. Like Frodo we need to undertake a new journey. By
this I mean that it is not enough to re-examine our own history,
but to equally re-examine the very nature of other ideas with which
we have been interacting. Above all, we need to rediscover the
spirituality of this and other continents. FOOTNOTE [1] I am deeply
indebted to Barry Ronge for this insight. REFERENCES
Comte-Sponville, Andre (2001) A Short Treatise on the Great
Virtues, The Uses of Philosophy in Everyday Life.
London: William Heinemann.
Ronge, Barry (December, 14 2003) End of the Journey, in Sunday
Times Magazine, pp. 18-20.
Soyinka, Wole (1991) The Credo of Being and Nothingness.
Ibadan: Spectrum Books. * Andre du Pisani teaches politics and
philosophy at the University of Namibia.