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Even if we are spared destruction by war, our lives will have to change if we want to save life from self-destruction. We cannot avoid revising the fundamental definitions of human life and human society. Is it true that man is above everything? Is there no Superior Spirit above him? Is it right that man’s life and society’s activities have to be determined by material expansion in the first place? Is it permissible to promote such expansion to the detriment of our spiritual integrity?
If the world has not come to its end, it has approached a major turn in history, equal in importance to the turn from the Middle Ages to the Renaissance. It will exact from us a spiritual upsurge, we shall have to rise to a new height of vision, to a new level of life where our physical nature will not be cursed as in the Middle Ages, but, even more importantly, our spiritual being will not be trampled upon as in the Modern era.
This ascension will be similar to climbing onto the next anthropologic stage. No one on earth has any other way left but — upward.
–Aleksandr Isayevich Solzhenitsyn, Commencement Address at Harvard University, June 7, 1978.
I remember Solzhenitsyn among other things by this amazing and carefully provocative speech he delivered at a Harvard commencement. The speech fell during a period of growing anti-militarism on university campuses that followed the Vietnam War. Solzhenitsyn was one of two historically significant voices of criticism that the Soviet Union produced in this era–the other, still more powerful voice was Andrei Sakharov’s. Each in a sense followed in the path of one of the two great intellectual movements that have dominated Russian thought since the time of Peter the Great: Solzhenitsyn was the bearer of the Slavophile tradition, and Sakharov of the Westernizers. For Americans who followed Solzhenitsyn’s critique of the excesses of the Soviet Union, the Harvard speech may have come as something of a shock. Like a discourteous guest, he took aim at some of the things about America that troubled him and that mattered. He disdained the nation’s pervasive materialism, the secularism of its society, and the lack of moral courage to stand for its values. His words seem, from the distance of thirty years, well crafted and his criticisms ring true on many points. Solzhenitsyn was a man with a powerful gift of insight and an uncanny ability to express truth about great injustices in simple human terms. But when it came to the expression of a coherent political vision, he faltered and sometimes seemed maladroit–as has been the case with many great artists in human history. Still, his words spoken at Harvard are patient words of criticism from a well-meaning visitor, and this is a time to remember them.
Shortly after posting this, I noticed that Harvey Mansfield had written an essay on the same Harvard speech in the Weekly Standard. This essay is well worth reading, as is the critique that Larisa Alexandrovna wrote noting where Mansfield goes off the tracks. Mansfield’s attempts to place Solzhenitsyn in the tradition of classical antiquity don’t work in my mind. He is very deeply rooted in another tradition, that which would make Moscow the Third Rome. Solzhenitsyn was, in a sense, the last Russian monk. We was an important, though imperfect, voice.
More from Scott Horton:
Six Questions — October 18, 2014, 8:00 pm
Nathaniel Raymond on CIA interrogation techniques.
Mark Denbeaux on the NCIS cover-up of three “suicides” at Guantánamo Bay Detention Camp
From the June 2014 issue
For the past three years my dosimeter had sat silently on a narrow shelf just inside the door of a house in Tokyo, upticking its final digit every twenty-four hours by one or two, the increase never failing — for radiation is the ruthless companion of time. Wherever we are, radiation finds and damages us, at best imperceptibly. During those three years, my American neighbors had lost sight of the accident at Fukushima. In March 2011, a tsunami had killed hundreds, or thousands; yes, they remembered that. Several also recollected the earthquake that caused it, but as for the hydrogen explosion and containment breach at Nuclear Plant No. 1, that must have been fixed by now — for its effluents no longer shone forth from our national news. Meanwhile, my dosimeter increased its figure, one or two digits per day, more or less as it would have in San Francisco — well, a trifle more, actually. And in Tokyo, as in San Francisco, people went about their business, except on Friday nights, when the stretch between the Kasumigaseki and Kokkai-Gijido-mae subway stations — half a dozen blocks of sidewalk, which commenced at an antinuclear tent that had already been on this spot for more than 900 days and ended at the prime minister’s lair — became a dim and feeble carnival of pamphleteers and Fukushima refugees peddling handicrafts.
One Friday evening, the refugees’ half of the sidewalk was demarcated by police barriers, and a line of officers slouched at ease in the street, some with yellow bullhorns hanging from their necks. At the very end of the street, where the National Diet glowed white and strange behind other buildings, a policeman set up a microphone, then deployed a small video camera in the direction of the muscular young people in drums against fascists jackets who now, at six-thirty sharp, began chanting: “We don’t need nuclear energy! Stop nuclear power plants! Stop them, stop them, stop them! No restart! No restart!” The police assumed a stiffer stance; the drumming and chanting were almost uncomfortably loud. Commuters hurried past along the open space between the police and the protesters, staring straight ahead, covering their ears. Finally, a fellow in a shabby sweater appeared, and murmured along with the chants as he rounded the corner. He was the only one who seemed to sympathize; few others reacted at all.
Number of U.S. congressional districts in which trade with China has produced more jobs than it has cost:
Young bilingual children who learned one language first are likelier than monolingual children and bilingual children who learned languages simultaneously to say that a dog adopted by owls will hoot.
An Oklahoma legislative committee voted to defund Advanced Placement U.S. History courses, accusing the curriculum of portraying the United States as “a nation of oppressors and exploiters.”
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“He could be one of a million beach-bound, black-socked Florida retirees, not the man who, by some odd happenstance of life, possesses the brain of Albert Einstein — literally cut it out of the dead scientist's head.”