One hundred years ago (July, 1925), Mein Kampf was published. Ten years later, in command of the German State, Hitler promulgated the Nuremburg Laws (September, 1935), a key step in the Nazi campaign against the Jews. Ten years later (May, 1945), the war in Europe ended with the destruction of the Nazi Germany. Few would have said in 1925 that Hitler, fresh out of jail for his role in the failed “Beer Hall Putsch” of 1923, had much of a future. Few would have said in 1935 that Germany, Italy, and Japan would take on (pretty much) the rest of the world in a massive conflagration. Many were in denial of what lay ahead, many wrung their hands, some warned of the dangers, but there was little prediction of what actually happened. Similarly, in the ruins of Berlin in 1945, any thoughts that Germany would again be the economic powerhouse of Europe and be tied to its French arch-enemy were scarce on the bomb-furrowed ground. What I take from this is that things aren’t predictable. The future may look bright or dark; but we just don’t know and current events aren’t a great guide to what the world is going to look like.
Right now, the torrent of godawful news from Washington makes things look pretty bleak. The world could spin out into some pretty horrific directions. But just because the Nazis trashed Germany and the world doesn’t mean something similar will happen again. We just don’t know.
Hegel, in the early 19C, insisted that people and governments hadn’t learned from history. Two centuries later, there is no reason to argue with him. This is, of course, a matter of great frustration for historians. We come from a humanist, Enlightenment tradition with a belief in education and improvement at the personal and societal levels (“progress”). We like to believe that people are (or, at least, can be) rational, compassionate, and (in an old sense) “liberal.” There are plenty of others, academic or otherwise, who share those tenets.
Much of the frustration among those groups over the past decade or so (and not just in the US) has been our disbelief that so many have run away from this approach to understanding the world. The larger part of those who have done so—as is always the case—are understandably focused on the survival/security of themselves and their families. The second largest group comprises those who prefer ignorant bliss and feel-good tribalism to dealing with the complex realities of the world. Then there are those who are (some combination of) aware, well-meaning, and unable to rouse themselves to engage (the “hand-wringers”).
A hallmark of those who believe in progress, facts, and rationality is a certain faith that people can be educated and persuaded; that’s its only a matter of data and messaging. This is a triumph of hope over (Hegelian) experience.
I wrote late last year that it might be better to stop pounding the table about climate change so as better to preserve the strength of those who are concerned about it. It’s an interesting question whether this should be applied more broadly, e.g., to the state of democracy, liberalism, etc. Given the incoming administration here in the US, it’s a timely question. I’m not suggesting rolling-over; resistance remains necessary. Rather, tactically, it may be a more effective defense of liberty to keep much of our powder dry than burn much of it in pro forma and performative posturing.
Such an approach will have no appeal to martyrs, or those who have sufficiently sipped of the cup of rational argument to continue to think that we must continue to protest and make noise! They’re mounting multi-million dollar campaigns against the confirmation of the eminently dubious nominees for the new cabinet. As if. As if. As if Republican Senators had much in the way of integrity or conscience. As if anything approaching a rational discourse is feasible in today’s noise-drenched imitation of the rational/liberal public sphere. [Actually, who do they think they’re persuading with all this?] As if fortifying the rhetorical ramparts will convince enough people of the daunting nature of the threat. There is something about those who seem to believe that protesting the dark is noble and morally necessary. It could be that such folks, with excellent intentions, still can’t see the tide coming in and insist, with King Canute, that ordering it otherwise will be effective. They may not be able to see that we may be better off—like any number of shore-dwelling critters—to hunker down and wait for the tide to go back out.
I cited the events in the opening paragraph about Germany in the early 20C less as a set of precedents for our current parlous state than as a reminder that our ability to predict the course of the world remains humbling and, more importantly, that for every disaster, there has been a reconstruction. No one would say that the current state of the world, in terms of climate, economic equality, social justice, etc. is anywhere close to where it should be; our Enlightened modernity has many flaws. So this is NOT a call for a preservation of the status quo, much less the retrieval of some bygone Golden Age. What comes out the other end will be sharply different than either historical examples or current predictions.
By the same token, history gives no cause for despair in the long term. There is no reason to think that avoiding the worst of the current trends and the most direly projected consequences through some struggle that merely ameliorates and incrementally “improves” the present state of things would end up being better than what might occur through the 21C moral equivalent of the 14C Black Death. We just don’t know.