Humanism and the paradox of politics.

The political climate in America, at least that generated by and maintained in the popular media, appears to become more polarized, impassioned, and irrational every day. According to the talk-show hosts - and even by the very manner in which the media presents the opinions of average citizens - a shallow, narrow, minded, and prejudiced diatribe deserves just as much consideration as a subtle, well-reasoned position. Rational political debate on a national level - the keystone of any democracy - is dangerously lacking. As a result, the student of history shudders when considering this climate of glorified hysteria, demagoguery, scapegoating, and intolerance, because tolerant and prosperous times rarely follow periods of passionate chaos. Now that the United States is about to begin another presidential election year, it certainly is time to reflect upon the attitude that a humanist should adopt under such circumstances.

It has been often lamented that humanists seem unwilling or unable to take a more active role in politics - or, at least, that they seem unwilling or unable to organize into an effective force for social change. The irony in this situation is only too apparent. Humanists consider themselves to be intelligent, rational human beings with a genuine care and concern for humanity in general, yet humanists all too often consider the messy realities of partisan politics outside the proper sphere of their efforts as humanists. Then, too, from the perspective of humanism, political compromise and expediency an too often lead to lessons in how humanistic aspirations are turned into inhumane systems: the Enlightenment ideals of Voltaire and Rousseau twisted into the Reign of Terror; Marx's ideals of economic equality and social justice corrupted into the Gulag Archipelago; and laissez faire (or "supply side") economics - the well-spring of political liberalism - used to justify the virtual enslavement of a large working class by a small elite.

So as the end of the twentieth century approaches, the very idea that social justice can be achieved through political action is thrown into question by a justifiable pessimism. There seems to be a general feeling that the humanist, even while burning with the intense desire for social justice, is forever alienated from meaningful political action that just when a humanist politics is so necessary, it is so impossible. This paradox is nothing new. On the contrary, it has been present throughout the history of Western civilization. In fact, the paradox of politics is definitive of humanism and brings out, once again, the central dynamic of Western culture: the eternal conflict between the individual and the collective.

Before we consider the uneasy relationship between humanism and politics, however, a redefinition of both words is in order. Since the birth of humanism in the city states of ancient Greece, humanists have taken pride in rationality and integrity above all. Rationality, in this enlightened sense, is the ability of reason to harness and put to creative and benevolent use the primal emotional energies and proclivities of humankind's animal nature. Integrity, the companion of rationality, is the ability to put one's professed beliefs into the reality of action. Simply stated, integrity is the courage to make word and action coincide. Together, rationality and integrity bring a certain clarity and set of standards to human existence, allowing the human being to gain an objective point of orientation in life free from the unexamined dictates of mere self, interest and day-to-day existence. These traits are what make an individual an individual and not a bee in the hive or an ant in the hill. Even so, these two traits alone, however important to an understanding of humanism, cannot account for that endemic spirit and orientation - that elan - which characterizes humanism in its more rigorous manifestations throughout history.

Besides rationality and integrity, therefore, the distinguishing feature of humanism is an affirmation of life on its own terms. The humanist affirms human existence without metaphysical justification - without a first cause, a providence, or the promise of a release from the wheel of life. This does not mean that humanism is necessarily atheistic, classical Greek humanism, Renaissance humanism, and the humanism of the Enlightenment were never so. In, stead, humanism emphasizes human abilities in a human world - that is, humanism affirms each person's ability to live a rewarding and satisfying life on earth without metaphysical control or supernatural support. Humankind is entirely in control of its own fate.

The humanist affirmation of life, therefore, insists that, with rationality, integrity, and animal energy alone, humankind can accomplish great things. There is no reliance on preconceived notions of "the essence of humankind" from this perspective. Humankind is exactly what it makes of itself within the physical limits of the human situation alone - and the possibilities of that are endless. This joy in freedom and creativity is the elan behind the remarkable accomplishments of classical Greece, the artistic brilliance of Renaissance Italy, and the lucid clarity of the Enlightenment.

Only when the search for some supernatural or inhuman "absolute truth" takes over are the possibilities of human excellence severely limited. When pessimism reigns - that is, when the general feeling dictates that human abilities are not sufficent for life on this earth - then the human capacity for inhumanity sets in under the name of Das Vaterland, "dictatorship of the proletariat," or some other secular or religious "absolute truth." This type of pessimism, wedded to a political ideology, is the true antithesis of humanism.

The human impulse toward rationality, clarity, freedom, and creativity seldom compliments the politics of absolutism. Actually, for the sake of clarity, one must draw a distinction between two approaches to politics. On the one hand, there is Politics, or politics on the grand scale. Here one includes theories of government, philosophy, history, and a genuine interest in creating forms of government which afford human beings the greatest freedom possible from both governmental oppression and material want. This is the Politics of Rousseau, Montesquieu, and Jefferson - even Marx. Humanists, whether conservative or liberal in the traditional sense of those terms, have been infinitely interested in speculation about Politics.

On the other hand, one may distinguish Politics from politics. In this sense, politics is the day-to-day struggle to promote one's own self-interest in the public realm. The leading concern of Politics, however, is the genuine interest in promoting the public welfare. In this high sense, then, Politics is a debate concerning the best form of government for allowing humankind to reach its greatest potential as a society of free and creative beings. Conversely, the leading concern of politics is the self-serving interests of the single citizen, the single leader, the single corporation, or the single "cause" - the desire to give as little as possible to the government and yet receive as much as possible in return. The advocate of politics wants something for nothing and has little or no concern for Politics beyond the expedient transformation of political theory into political cal rhetoric. It is precisely this obfuscation of meaningful political discourse that bewilders and deflates the humanist when entering the realm of common politics.

The difficulties of this situation have been with us since the dawn of Western culture. Nowhere is there a better example than with Socrates. The trial of Socrates, as recounted in Plato's dialogue Apologia, in which the philosopher defends himself against the charges brought against him by three fellow Athenian citizens, is not only the most famous trial from ancient history; it is also the first clearly articulated humanistic position in relation to politics. At one point, Socrates declares: "The true champion of justice, if he intends to survive even for a short time, must necessarily confine himself to private life and leave politics alone" Thus Socrates understood, nearly 2,500 years ago, that the business of politics has little to do with justice.

So it is that, at the dawn of democracy in the West, the first recorded political witchhunt takes place. Socrates is brought up on charges of creating new gods and corrupting the youth of the nation. Socrates begins his defense before the ecclesia - or assembly of free citizens - by reminding them that they have been warned that he is a skillful ("deceitful") speaker. The irony, of course, is that the charges against Socrates are the true deception. As the trial unfolds, it becomes apparent that there is a kernel of truth to them, but that it has been twisted to suit the political purposes of his opponents.

It is true that Socrates created new gods. His "guilt" rests in the Socratic concept of the daemon. Socrates claimed that he heard a voice in his head that protested when he was about to make an error of moral judgment. Of course, today the daemon is called the con, science and recognized as the ability to know right from wrong or to recognize the confluence of word and deed - the locus of integrity. More than any other figure, Socrates is responsible for the idea (or ideal) of human integrity based upon an innate sense of right and wrong: the god of "good and evil" moves from the shadows of the netherworld in, to the light of human consciousness. In this ironic sense, Socrates did create "new gods."

The second charge against Socrates is that he corrupted the youth of the nation. As the trial plays out, it becomes apparent in Apologia that Socrates has done no more than to teach the youth of the nation to think for themselves. Socrates "taught" his students by "midwifery" - that is, by continually asking questions in order to help each student to clarify his own ideas, abilities, and proclivities. Midwifery under Socrates becomes an expression of humanistic individualism and its concern for developing human virtu, or excellence, in the classical and Renaissance sense. Here, again, the irony becomes readily apparent. If corruption means to turn away from unthinking allegiance to the rules and mores of society - and unthinking allegiance is what most governments want from their citizens - then Socrates certainly was corrupting the youth.

Ironies always abound with Socrates, so finally the paradox of politics turns upon itself in Apologia. Before Socrates even begins his defense, he explains to the assembly that he believes the charges against him are "trumped up." The real reason for his appearance before the ecclesia has to do with the resentment he has provoked in many of his fellow citizens in his role as a "gad-fly." Socrates relates the story of how a friend of his received an oracle from Apollo's sanctuary at Delphi declaring that Socrates was the wisest man of all. Socrates, believing himself not to be wise, traveled the land inquiring of all what they knew, trying to find a wise man. In doing so, he revealed the arrogance of ignorance demonstrated by his fellow citizens - many claimed to be wise and know much when they knew little. This revelation of the egotism, hypocrisy, vanity, and lack of integrity on the part of his fellow Athenians is Socrates' real crime, and his condemnation and death remains the great martyrdom of human integrity. The final irony is that the desire to stay out of politics involved him deeply in it and ultimately caused his martyrdom. Or, if you will, humanists must always lose in politics, but they must nevertheless speak out for rationality and integrity.

Although not overt, Socrates' argument calls for a society in which individuals can reach their highest potential as individuals. In this sense, Socrates is arguing Politics. His opponents, however, do not enter the debate on this level; instead, they are concerned with obfuscating the debate over freedom of discussion and conscience in order to get Socrates out of the way. Obviously, these noble and wealthy citizens are protecting their self-interest; they certainly have a great stake in maintaining the status quo.

The Socratic answer to the paradox of politics is education in the broadest sense. Socrates saw his worth to the body politic in his role as an educator and a destroyer of myths. Yet of the talk-show hosts and even the "respected" newscasters and journalists who frame our national political debate, none (to anyone's knowledge) hold advanced degrees in political science, history, economics, or any relevant humanistic discipline. Few even have undergraduate degrees in a discipline that would allow them to enter a discourse with the great thinkers of the past concerning Politics - or even to make a systematic study of the ideas behind the U.S. Constitution.

Except perhaps for George Will (who in the past has retained a researcher to dig up his pithy quotes), one never hears a political "expert" on television quote or even mention Locke, Rousseau, or Montesquieu - or Jefferson, Adams, or Monroe for that matter. Yet these pundits, talk-show hosts, and news anchors are allowed to make the most sweeping generalizations about presidential politics, the role of the presidency and Congress, the history of the government, and other theoretical "truths" when they have never even formally and systematically studied the history of the United States. As Socrates would say, "They think they know something when they know nothing."

The remedy for this ignorant and muddled national political discourse is a better educated public. Our politics will "improve" - will only improve - when education improves. A better educated public simply would not be interested in the irrational rantings of talk-show hosts or the one-sided simplified "truths" of the national news programs. Presently, citizen education in the United States is at a critically poor level. High schools and even colleges for the most part do a very poor job of introducing students to the history of political ideas and institutions and a worse job of teaching students to express their ideas in a reasoned and articulate manner. In other words, since Politics is both poorly understood and not widely discussed, politics encompasses the national debate. It is no wonder that a college dropout is the most discussed "expert" in political matters in the United States today or that hypocrisy and extremist notions abound.

Since the gap between rich and poor in this country has been dramatically widening for quite some time now, a major improvement in the educational system is unlikely because it would have to be initiated from the top, and our leaders are currently slashing away at educational budgets in order to promote "efficiency" and savings. Likewise, there is no national movement to educate the public in Politics, even though what has been said about the poor quality of citizen education is a truism among educators.

Given such a state of affairs, the American humanist is in a difficult position. Election after election in the United States proves that political life in this country revolves around politics. Any lucid discussion of Politics gets lost in the din of special-interest groups, demagogic talk-show hosts, and the smear campaigns that pass for elections in this country. Some know with what embarrassment the intelligent United States citizen abroad discusses politics "back home" with foreigners. It is no wonder that a well-educated, rational human being approaches politics in America with fear and trembling.

The paradox of politics is especially acute in the United States, where intellectuals have always played a dubious role in relation to the body politic. In Europe, intellectuals sometimes assume political office, on rare occasions even the highest position in the land. In the United States, however, intellectuals seldom even aspire to such. There is in this country an unfortunate mistrust and skepticism toward the intellectual and the life of the mind. Of course, the humanist is by definition an intellectual: one who is liberally educated and sees issues in all their complexity. Therefore, American humanists find themselves in a doubly difficult situation when they enter the realm of politics. On the one hand, they stand apart because each is an individual, not a member of the crowd. On the other hand, their pronouncements on politics are met with skepticism and mistrust by the general public because they are most often intellectually complex.

American humanists must, nevertheless, overcome the paradox of politics by becoming the voice of clarity and reason, the conscience - the daemon - of the nation. This activity, an honored and traditional role of humanism in politics, can help to overcome the very real threat of cynicism and the excesses of self-interest and absolutism. Instead of organizing into groups for direct political action in a very confusing environment, maybe the role of the humanist is as gadfly - playing a Socratic role by revealing the arrogance of ignorance and the hypocrisy of the powers that be. Through publications, letters, public debates, and conversations, the humanist must fight the intolerance, irrationality, and prejudice that all too often characterize public discourse in an attempt to raise politics to the level of Politics. This is undoubtedly the most valuable role the humanist can play on the American political scene, and the humanist is the only one qualified and committed for the task.

In this manner, humanism and the paradox of politics may prove once again that the humanistic refusal to compromise with ignorance, irrationality, and political expediency is a celebration of that vital force which denies absolutism ultimate victory over the individual.

Michael C. Milam received his Ph.D. in comparative literature from Indiana University. He is a former Fulbright Scholar and National Endowment for the Humanities Fellow. Presently he teaches intellectual history, literature, and art history in St. Petersburg, Florida.