Archives for posts with tag: The Boiling Frog

(Priveşte înapoi cu mânie este un text dramatic care exprimă foarte clar şi fără echivoc o atitudine, anume) atitudinea tinerilor furioşi, cei care s-au trezit (după cel de al doilea război mondial) că nu prea au perspective, şanse de a se realiza, că trăiesc într-o societate dărâmată, în reconstrucţie şi care îşi concentra toate forţele către această reconstrucţie, ei resimţind acut lipsa de orizont cu care se confruntau. În acelaşi timp, acest text cere la rândul său o atitudine, cel care se apropie de el trebuie să resimtă această furie, dar să o folosească în scopuri constructive, creative.”

Geaca lui Jimmy sau modalităţi de resuscitare – Priveşte înapoi cu mânie
Mircea Sorin Rusu, Agenda Liternet, Mai 2005

Mai ține cineva minte spectocolul? Sau filmul?
Eu nu.
Dar continuă să mă obsedeze titlul!

Recunoașteți situația?
Și înjuratura?
„Tineri frumoși și liberi”?

Cum de-am ajuns să ne înjurăm tinerii?!? Viitorul?

Să vă povestesc.

Sfârșitul.

Ceașcă reușise să-i unească pe toți.

Aveam 7 ani când sovieticii au strivit Primăvara de la Praga.
Nu mai țin minte discursul lui Ceaușescu dar țin minte sentimentul de mândrie cu care vorbeau oamenii despre el.
Despre curajul cu care EL le-a ținut piept ‘cotropitorilor’.
Pe vremea aia o duceam binișor. Pușcăriile politice fuseseră golite, alimentarele erau din ce în ce mai pline, macaralele construiau de zor locuințe pentru oamenii muncii, aveam căldură și apă caldă la discreție, electricitatea ajunsese până în cele mai depărtate cătune. Iar Romania reîncepuse să producă autoturisme!
Ceaușescu reușise să ne unească – pe noi, cei din-lăuntrul țării, în jurul lui!
Mai mult, atitudinea de frondă față de politica externă a Uniunii Sovietice îi adusese și un enorm prestigiu internațional. Un mare număr de susținători din lumea largă.

În următorii 21 de ani, Ceaușescu avea să reușească contrariul.
Să ne unească, pe toți, împotriva lui.
Nouă ne era frig, foame și scârbă. Ne întrebam cum de-am ajuns în halul ăla. Și ne era atât de scârbă de noi înșine încât nici măcar nu mai aveam vreo speranță. Unii încercau să fugă, foarte puțini să organizeze o rezistență iar marea masă, resemnată, îi percepea, pe toți ăștia, ca fiind ‘nebuni’. Ca pe niște descreierați care își puneau familiile în pericol. Ca pe niște zănateci care clatinau barca. Care puneau în pericol umbra de confort care mai putea fi obținută. De către unii dintre noi…
Cei din Vest se lămuriseră și ei. De unde-l plimbaseră în caleașcă, acum îl arătau cu degetul.
Lui Gorbaciov, care încerca să dreagă busuiocul comunist, îi era pur și simplu rușine. Faptul că Ceaușescu era singurul care refuza orice idee de reformă periclita însuși conceptul de Perestroika. Care trebuia să aibă loc, simultan, în întreg lagărul. Pentru că era, nu-i așa, vorba despre o chestie ‘legică’. Conform materialismului dialectic, atunci când o dai de gard, te întorci din drum. Doar că Gorbaciov nu putea să se întoarcă de unul singur. Trebuia să ia cu el întreg Tratatul de la Varșovia. Și tot CAER-ul. Orice ‘disidență’ ar fi demonstrat caracterul arbitrar al hotarârilor luate la nivel ‘centralizat’. Ar fi demontat, cât se poate de elocvent, pretenția de ‘legitate’ a „materialismului științific și dialectic”.

Ritual de trecere.

Noi, cei din-lăuntru, n-aveam habar de ce avea să vie.
Marea majoritate a observatorilor au fost uluiți.
Nimeni nu vedea sfărșitul comunismului.

Până în primăvara lui 1989. Da, primăvara!
Francis Fukuyama a publicat „The End of History?” pe 22 Iunie 1989. Nu cred că a scris tot articolul într-o seară… Versiunea inițială are 18 pagini…

„The triumph of the West, of the
Western idea, is evident first of all in
the total exhaustion of viable
systematic alternatives to Western
liberalism.”

„Triumful vestului, a variantei de liberalism care il animă, este demonstrat – în primul rând, extenuarea tuturor celorlate alternative sistemice care au încercat să-l concureze.”

Avem deja cel puțin doi oameni care întrevedeau ce urma să se întâmple.
Gorbaciov încerca să dreagă căruța care o luase deja la vale iar Fukuyama se bucura, deja, de pielea ursului din pădure.

Acțiunile lor contrazic afirmația pe care am făcut-o mai sus.
Chiar dacă cei mai mulți dintre noi – trăitori și observatori, împreună, nu realizam ce urma să se întâmple, erau totuși câte unii care se pregăteau.

Cei 6 se apucaseră deja de scris.

Nu vom ști niciodată cât de spontane, sau cât de organizate, au fost evenimentele din România anului 1989.
Cert este că tensiunea socială era deja ‘suficientă’ – chiar dacă cei aflați în ‘ceaun’ nu sesizaserăm încă, iar unii dintre noi – dintre ‘ei’, mai degrabă, se pregătiseră pentru a folosi orice prilej ce urma să apară. Când va fi urmat să apară… Viitoarea ‘aparție’ fiind deja ‘anunțată’ de ambele părți ale fostei cortine de fier.

Am să fac o scurtă paranteză.
Nu sunt conspiraționist. Sunt convins că nici o conspirație nu poate pune la cale chestii atât de complicate precum căderea unui întreg sistem de state. Un lucru atât de complicat presupune cooperarea a prea multor oameni. O astfel de complicățenie nu poate fi păstrată sub obroc pentru prea multă vreme.
Am să o iau altfel.
Nimeni nu poate prevedea cutremurele. Sau erupțiile vulcanice. Dar trebuie să fii tâmpit să nu-ți iei ceva măsuri de prevedere atunci când pămantul începe să tremure. Când iese fum din vârful munților. Când începe să miroasă a pucioasă… Oricât de obișnuit ai fi devenit de-a lungul timpului…

Ei bine, cei mai mulți dintre noi… am fost tâmpiți!
N-am simțit că lui Ceaușescu îi ajunsese funia la par.
Că regimul său urma să se prăbușească.

Nu ne-am pregătit!

Acum, dacă vrem să înțelegem – în sfârșit, ce ni s-a întâmplat, ar fi cazul să lăsăm mânia la o parte.

Ca să putem trece mai departe.

Altfel… nu mai scăpăm din ceaun!

Cei mai mulți dintre noi sunt de părere că broasca va fi ucisă de apa care va să fiarbă.
În realitate, broasca va muri doar în măsura în care nu se va hotărî, la timp, să sară din ceaun.
Advertisement

The oldest surviving civilized nation, China, calls itself Zhongguo.
The Middle Kingdom. ‘In the middle’ of the barbaric people that surrounded her but also at middle distance between Heaven and the rest of the Earth. The aforementioned barbarians.

And, according to Confucius, it was the emperor’s job to ‘keep things as they should remain’.

Which makes sense. After all, the whole kingdom was the exclusive property of the emperor. And whose job is to watch over one’s property?

Well, things went on long enough for those involved to believe this was the natural order of things.
Until the whole arrangement was upset by a small number of people which had come, more or less ‘under their own steam’, from the other side of the world. And who were, at that time, a lot less civilized than the Chinese.

How can be explained something like this?
OK, the Aztec and the Inca empires might have been primitive relative to the Spanish invaders. They might have prevailed over the small number of invaders by brute force but they had been overcome by the sheer novelty and the apparent sophistication of the assailants.
But China had been in contact for centuries with the rest of the ‘civilized’ world! And way advanced than the rest. Both culturally and economically.

So, what had happened?
How can something like this be explained?

We might try to take the ‘historical route’. And observe that, exactly as Confucius and Laozi had told us, China’s destiny had been tightly linked to the ability of those in charge – the emperors, to manage the empire. From the paleolithic migrations until the Mongol invasion in 1271, nothing from outside had any significant impact over the Chinese hinterland. But the fortunes of those living in that hinterland had oscillated from the misery induced by almost constant ‘live conflict’ during the Warring States period to the various prosperous eras. The Han, Tang and Song dynasties, to mention just a few of them.
The same principle had been valid also for what went on while foreign dynasties had been in power. As long as the ‘managers’ were doing their jobs, things continued to improve. As soon as the helm was grabbed by an incompetent leader… all hell broke loose.

But is the emperors’ incompetence enough to explain what had happened during the XIX-th century? The most advanced, and numerous, nation on Earth had been subjugated – for all practical purposes, by a bunch of drug pushers pretending to act in the name of the far away, and far weaker, British King?

Or we can take the sociological route.
Along which we’ll notice that the ‘drug pushers’ were only nominally subjects of the British Empire. Which empire was behaving imperially only towards the exterior while inside it was already a democracy!

Sounds familiar?

Ancient Athens, the first known democracy, had dominated the Eastern Mediterranean for as long as it had retained its democratic character and had failed, abysmally, each time it had reverted to tyranny?
Ancient Rome had established a huge empire as a democratic republic and collapsed four short centuries after becoming a totalitarian empire?
And so on…?

And what might be the difference between a totalitarian empire and a democratic one?
On the face of it, a democratic empire sounds like an oxymoron… yet there’s plenty of such examples in our history…

As you might guess from the title of this post, the ‘famous’ middle class was both the engine and the explanation for the ease with which the ‘democratic’ empires had been established. And yes, the Spanish and Portuguese ones can be explained in the same manner. At that time none of the Iberian monarchies was yet behaving in the absolutist manner they had pursued as soon as the looted precious metals had started to pour in…

But what makes the middle class so special?

Nassim Nicholas Taleb would tell you that the middle class has enough skin left in the game to really care about the outcome and I’m going to add that the middle class is simultaneously distanced enough from the fray to act in a reasonable enough manner.

Let me put back, for a short while, my historian’s cap.

Most of us consider that the middle class is a late appearance. That most of the time, humankind had been divided in two. The haves and the have-nots. The powerful and the meek.
Well, I’m not so sure about that…
For the first 60 000 years after we had learned to speak – which had made us really human, we had been living in small packs. Led by the more powerful male member of the group – if we consider that our ancestors used to behave like our Chimpanzee cousins, or ‘self managed’ in a more or less democratic manner if our ancestors had used the model followed by our other cousins, the Bonobos.
Or we could look at how the surviving ‘primitives’ lead their lives. None of the Hadzabe, Yanomami or Inuit, who have survived in the most difficult conditions on Earth, have a hierarchical social structure.
Primitives?!? Maybe… but not because of their social arrangements. After all, they are freer than most of us.
And what is it that we, proudly modern people, value more than our individual freedom?

Money? I’m going to let this rest… for a while.

Let’s go back to our ancestors.
Who, by all indications, had been living as ‘extended middle class societies’. Without any 0.1% and without people who went to bed hungry while the rest of the gang had been gorging themselves.
Let’s remember now that during those times we had actually transformed ourselves from apes to humans. And if you consider this to be a small feat, just try to teach a bonobo to speak. Then remember how many people who had been born in poor and backward countries are now successful business people or scientists. After passing through a thorough educational process, true! Only that educational process is in no way accessible to any bonobo…
Don’t disparage the long evolution we had graduated from, as a species, while living in ‘extended middle class societies’.

‘But you haven’t explained what you mean by middle class! Most of us see the middle class as those people who make a certain amount of money each year and you keep speaking about primitive people… who have absolutely no use for any money…!’

OK.
For good or for bad, our present society consist of three categories of people.
The haves, the in-between and the dirt poor.

I’m not going to assign numerical values to any of these.
Taleb’s Skin in the Game criterion is far more useful in this situation.

The haves qualify only after they have no skin left in the game. In the sense that they have so much ‘money’ that come hell and/or high water they feel safe. What they make of this world is heavily influenced by the thick ‘insulation’ which separates them from the rest of the world.
The dirt poor – or the lumpen proletariat, in Marx’s terms, have all their skin in the game. In fact, they are the famous ‘Boiling Frog’. They have no way of leaving the kettle so…

In a sense, both haves and the dirt poor are  prisoners. Neither can leave their respective cell blocks. Simply because the dirt poor have no way to go anywhere while almost none of the haves would be able to survive ‘outside’.

the boiling frog

Wesley Chang, The Boiling Frog, Medium.com

Which leaves us with the middle class.
Who have some resources stashed away – or enough credit available, to weather some crises. But not enough to last them for their entire remaining lives.
Which makes the middle class the only really interested people in the long term well being of the entire society. The only ones really interested in maintaining the freedom of the market as the main economic engine. The only ones really interested in maintaining democracy as the main manner of avoiding catastrophic mistakes perpetrated by the too powerful autocrats.

Or, from a psychological point of view, we can look at the haves/dirt poor as being stuck in an immobile state of mind while the middle class are the only open minded members of the society.
In fact, I prefer this last approach.
You see, until recently the American Dream was relatively accessible. With some luck, a ton of determination and a fair amount of brain power, the sky was the only limit. Belonging to any of those three categories, haves, middle class and dirt-poor was as much about the state of mind of those involved as it was about actual economic conditions.
The haves were free to consider the big picture, the dirt poor could contemplate brighter perspectives while the middle class were doing their thing. Keeping the whole show afloat.

I’m afraid we have reached an inflexion point. A watershed mark, if you prefer.
For whatever reason – I’m not ready to tackle this subject right now, we’ve become so preoccupied with something in particular that we’ve lost sight of everything else.

Including the middle class.

Exactly those which were supposed to maintain their cool heads and open minds.

part of the problem

Matthew Stewart,
The 9.9 Percent is the New American Aristocracy,
The Atlantic

%d bloggers like this: