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A parable of the rise and fall of a society over four generations |
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| Nations,
kingdoms, or empires arise seemingly out of nowhere, develop into
strong, stable, prosperous societies, many of them even growing to a
kind of greatness in which they put their indelible mark on an age or
era — then lose the wonderful dynamic that brought them to that
greatness and pass on into insignificance or even oblivion. So it is that there is a life cycle of birth, growth, maturity, decay and death of human society — in the same way that there is a natural cycle of birth, development, maturity, decline and death for all things in life. No two societies go through this life cycle alike. How they come to life, how they develop, what they mature into, and how long they prosper before decline sets in, is entirely different from one society to another. Most societies grow into their prime through military conquest — though not all. The Portuguese nation in the 1400s and 1500s and the Dutch nation in the 1500s and 1600s were major contributors to the expansion of Western domination throughout the rest of the world — though both were essentially commercial rather than military societies. Some great states hold on to their greatness for centuries. Greek society, though defeated militarily by the Romans fairly early in its existence, continued to dominate culturally the whole of the Eastern Mediterranean for over a thousand years (500 BC - 600 AD). The Roman Empire lasted similarly a thousand years or more. But other societies seem to complete the cycle of rise and fall in only a generation or two. Charlemagne's European Empire (800 AD) did not outlive his grandsons. Tamerlane's great Asian Empire (late 1300s) did not last much longer. The great Soviet Union lasted only 70+ years (1918-1991). Hitler's "1000-year" Reich (Empire) lasted only a dozen years (1933-1945). Some societies however seem to continue onward, seemingly forever, through an on-going process of rebirths in which after a period of deep decline they come back to life, though in a greatly altered form. China is a perfect example of this, as is India. Both of these societies have enjoyed thousands of years of continuing existence — intermixed with on-going and sometimes deep changes. Modeling the pattern of rise and fall
The concept of a society's rise and fall – and there being a distinct pattern to that dynamic – is not a new idea. The Hebrew Testament of the Judeo-Christian Bible tells a similar tale about the rise and fall (repeatedly) of ancient Israel. The Chinese author, Sima Guang, who wrote the Zizhi Tongjian (some time in the 1000s AD), makes a similar case in his study of the historic rise and fall of the various Chinese dynasties. More recently British historian Arnold J. Toynbee, in his 12-volume series A Study of History (1934-1961), studied 28 world civilizations, and came up with a similar pattern of rise and decline of these societies: genesis or birth, growth, time of troubles, universal state, and disintegration. He used the challenge-response idea to explain their development (they grew in response to challenges they faced as societies). Decline he saw as a matter of increasing moral-spiritual corruption of those leaders who had taken on primary responsibility for directing or guiding the rest of the society. He noticed these leaders over time becoming increasingly self-serving in their addiction to power, offering the rest of society only dead formulas to justify their growing privileges. Meanwhile in this condition of self-indulgence, these small groups of privileged leaders would lose touch with reality, instead falling into a world of elaborate political fantasy... and thus become unable to guide the society effectively in the face of new and rising challenges. Where does American society fit in this pattern? At the very end of the 1980s we Americans were all greatly gladdened to see the Soviet Empire, our arch rival in the Cold War, suddenly – almost without warning – dissolve into chaos. But there was also something chillingly shocking about it all. How quickly Russia went from being one minute a superpower and the next minute a stumbling Third World country. We wondered: how did that happen? Many of us surely wondered: could this also happen to us? Was America destined to long-term greatness ... like the Greeks and Romans. Or was it too going to be merely a flash in history, great one moment, then rapidly declining into insignificance only after a few generations of such greatness ... like the Soviet Union? Even before the collapse of the Soviet Union this same question was posed to me by some of my university students – all the way back in the early 1970s when I was a young professor at the University of South Alabama. We were already investigating the matter of how long America would be able to live up to its huge international responsibilities. As part of this investigation I used to tell something of a parable to my students. The parable is about the rise and fall of a political dynasty, a father, son, grandson and great grandson. It's a bit of a takeoff from Thomas Mann's story of the rise and decline of the Buddenbrooks family dynasty, intermixed with my own personal knowledge of prominent families who had cycled, through several generations, from spectacular rise to heart-breaking decline in fortunes. It's a summing up of some of the things I had already come to understand about the dynamics involved in the political rise and fall – not of just dynasties but of whole societies, whole civilizations. The story of this rise and fall of this family dynasty was my way of explaining – in parable form – the nature, the causes, the course of the rise and fall of nations and empires. |
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Origins
I located this story somewhere in the cold, dry and rather barren steppes of central Asia. I placed it several centuries ago during some very rough and tumble times in central and south-central Asia. The story begins with a hard riding, hard fighting figure called Durbar. Durbar was a war orphan raised from his childhood by his deceased father's brother. Though his uncle was always kindly towards him, Durbar knew that his future was problematic because he would nonetheless be without any inheritance as he stepped into manhood – should he survive so long. His situation was made worse in that he was somewhat short of stature and was the constant recipient of taunts and hits from other youth of his clan, including his three cousins. But on the other hand, he possessed a very tough personal constitution – made even tougher by the circumstances he was forced to face every day. His "charisma" ... and personal walk with God
But he was also tough – or just very different – in another way. He did not answer the taunts of those who picked on him – because something deeper inside him led him to believe that the day would come when these taunts would turn into applause and cheers. He had a strange sense of destiny, an unspoken sense that despite his present circumstances he had a very special place in the larger scheme of things, a type of favor or grace placed upon him by the very power of the heavens or universe, "God" as we would say in our culture. He took the attitude that his very dire circumstances were part of a process by which God was shaping him for a future call to lead the very people who presently persecuted him. Indeed, Durbar early on came to be well-known locally as one who spent a great deal of time in quiet consultation with the divine hand that clearly shaped his character. In short, Durbar "walked with God." And perhaps most importantly, those who knew him personally were impressed by this special quality ... quick to recognize in him the very rare quality of being a "mighty man of God." This is a quality that appeals particularly to men – something largely forgotten in today’s "inclusive" culture. Throughout all human history1 men occasionally find themselves mysteriously attached to someone of such higher nature, an individual that they would follow no matter how dangerous the circumstances ... even to death if need be. This is a "man's thing" ... and Durbar had that "man's thing" that cultivated incredible loyalty in the hearts of others. And thus it was that even those who teased him the most began to wonder about Durbar. His rising fortunes
One thing was early observed about young Durbar. He could ride longer and fight harder than other young men his age. In the incessant warring of his times, Durbar proved ferocious, dangerous – and always successful. But alongside his toughness, Durbar also had a very lavish streak of generosity – perhaps because he could relate so well to life "on the edge" of survival. In returning from another round of fighting with his clan's enemies, he was always quick to give away most of his plunder to others. Thus it was that Durbar's warring expeditions began to attract a rapidly growing circle of young warriors. But this growth occurred not only because he had succeeded in making himself the obvious leader of all his young fellow clansmen, but because his spirit of generosity extended even at times to his enemies. Though defeat in war with Durbar meant that his enemies lost all their wealth and possibly even their women to Durbar's followers, their lives were spared if they had proven valiant in their resistance to Durbar – and they were invited to become part of his growing militia (where they could expect soon enough to recoup their losses, and go on to gain even more as a loyal member of Durbar's growing military group). But as Durbar grew in power, he also began to draw the wrath of other tribal lords in the area. In battle, he was always the target most sought after by his enemies (who at the same time were terrified by him.) But proving virtually invincible in battle, Durbar soon became the object of assassination attempts and under cover efforts to buy off his key supporters. His sense of moral discipline
But Durbar could be as tough minded in holding his growing militia together as he was in his conduct of war. Thus he was not easy to get to – being surrounded only by those of well proven loyalty and valor. Indeed, he demanded absolute loyalty from all his warriors – and was quick to kill off any discovered treachery, or even weakness of will, in his camp. His warrior code was strict – and inflexible – though by the assessment of his followers, not only fair, but necessary. By our thinking we would definitely have to call Durbar a tyrant. But he was a tyrant who survived – and even prospered (as also did his loyal followers). Remember, in an environment where even the slightest show of weakness could destroy a person, there really was no other formula to live by. His social code
As time progressed for Durbar, he conquered – and absorbed – clan after clan, then tribe after tribe in the region and then in the whole country around him. By the time he was thirty, he was the leader of a huge tribal confederation, able to count as many as 30,000 to 300,000 men (depending on the circumstances) within his army. It was wide flung and made up of very diverse peoples. But it was held together by an extension of the same tight social code that he had first imposed on his immediate followers. It was a code that not only held his vast army together, but it also brought the first period of peace that the country had experienced in over a century. Warring among clans and tribes came to a halt. Peaceful conditions for commerce – even intermarriage – began to draw once enemy peoples together. Durbar himself couldn't oversee this vast new social order personally – but a growing body of very loyal subordinates could. Themselves reflecting the new tough social code, they brought its discipline to the tribal and clan areas – and peace to the realm. Needless to say, Durbar kept a close watch on the behavior of his subordinates. But as long as they served devoutly his new social order, he encouraged them – and made sure that they prospered. But the inevitable had to come to Durbar's feudal community: it was originally built on a warrior ethic, it prospered from that ethic (with large doses of plunder as the social payoff), and it suffered a bit under its own peaceful conditions. Thus the community had to keep expanding in order to stay intact. And now that the wild steppes of Central Asia had been conquered, that meant only one thing. They were going to have to move against a much older, wealthier civilization just over the mountain range to the South of them: Mugaladu. The conquest of Mugaladu
Mugaladu was a land which was well watered and had anciently been the setting of an agrarian based civilization. It was a land of thousands of agricultural villages, hundreds of provincial towns, and a handful of rather large royal or imperial cities. Its history was a flow of good and bad kings and emperors, war and peace, prosperity and poverty. Royal dynasties rose and declined over the centuries – almost from time immemorial – matching the almost endless cycle of growth and decline of Mugaladu civilization. As history would have it, the timing was favorable for Durbar, for Mugaladu was clearly in one of those periods of decline. The leadership of the country was weak and corrupt, looking only to its own wealth in disregard to the suffering of the huge peasant population. The latter groaned under the heavy load of massive taxes and extortionist officials, unsafe roads and unprotected towns, and in general a sense that the heavens had forsaken them. And the Mugaladu military reflected the same moral disintegration of the society around it. The officers were really not warriors but leisured aristocrats. The rank and file was undisciplined and unruly: bully boys in the presence of the peasants, but untested in battle. Actually, once Durbar got past the horrifying idea of taking on the Mugaladu civilization (he was also now a man in his mid-40s), he found the task fairly straightforward and astonishingly easy. He did not waste a lot of time laying siege to the fortified cities, but focused on the surrounding countryside, which he easily overran. Having such a tight hold on his army, he was able to move it quickly from place to place, constantly chipping away at the Mugaladu army – which was hoping vainly for a direct pitched battle to put their advantage in numbers to work for them. Quickly morale in the Mugaladu army began to sink. Also, having such a tight hold on his army, he was able to restrain his troops from terrorizing the peasant population (relatively speaking anyway – for Durbar's soldiers still had to "forage" for food) – focusing them instead on doing battle with the forces of the ruling dynasty. Seeing themselves actually better protected under these strange invaders, many of the peasants soon began to greet Durbar not as an enemy, but as a liberator. Durbar was finally ready to face directly the full weight of the Mugaladu army. But once again he called upon cavalry tactics to outflank and scatter section after section of the slower moving Mugaladu infantry, rapidly wearing down the fighting impulse of his enemy. Before two days were out, the Mugaladu army was in shambles with its officers killed or captured. One week later, Durbar and his army entered the largely abandoned imperial capital of Pushnabad. The Mugaladu imperial family had fled to the South along with some of their ministers of state. But Durbar knew that they would not be back – at least not as rulers. In fact they were found a week later and brought back to Pushnabad – where all the males of this small party were put to the sword. Durbar: Ruler of Mugaladu
Now a new problem presented itself to Durbar. He was a warrior – not an administrator of a vast civilization presided over by a huge bureaucracy. His instinct was to fight. Indeed, there was still more fighting to do: various tribes in the south of the country which had long been in rebellion against Mugaladu authority in Pushnabad remained as a challenge to Durbar and his cohorts. But even here, in his favorite occupation of fighting, things were rapidly changing. The former Mugaladu army, though it had been poorly led, was still a viable instrument and wisdom dictated that Durbar take advantage of this new tool of his rule in Mugaladu. Bringing the two armies together under his personal rule added greatly to his power. Also, his men were quickly being captivated by the sophistication of this civilization they had just conquered – so that it was increasingly a question of who had conquered whom! 1Except those times that sadly occur when cultures have grown unfocused and bored, drowning in all the refinements and material entitlements they have surrounded themselves with ... consequently losing touch with reality as they find themselves safely encased inside a mechanically established, bureaucratic cultural "bubble" – a bubble from which they occasionally peer out on a world they no longer understand because they have no personal familiarity with any of it. |
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The schooling of Najan
Somehow Durbar had years earlier sensed that the day would come when he would have to go to war with Mugaladu power. This is why he had seen to it that his eldest son, Najan (by the second of 5 wives), had been sent as a boy to study in one of the smaller schools of Mugaladu nobility in Pushnabad (it had cost him a pretty penny to do this). There Najan had not only learned fluency in the Mugaladu language, but had learned something of the Mugaladu mindset and the ways of its civilization. True, Durbar had brought Najan back at age 16 to begin military training at his side. But the Mugaladu learning had stuck. Now that the fateful event had come to pass – the conquest of Mugaladu – it was time to groom Najan for the administrative tasks that Durbar knew were not his, but his son's. Thus at age 25 Najan was brought onto Durbar's ruling council. Najan's personal makeup
Thankfully, Najan had much of his father's temperament. Though he had been brought up in much more secure circumstances than his father (remembering however that life of the eldest son of a central Asian warlord still had its major risks) – the sting of criticism by his Mugaladu schoolmates for being the son of an Asian nomad had taught Najan to think defensively. Thus like his father, Najan was by instinct highly competitive and self-disciplined. Thus he too worked hard at rising above his schoolmates in the manly arts – and in the intellectual arts at the same time. We cannot say, however, that Najan was quite the visionary that his father was. Najan had learned from his father the importance of holding God in respect – for God was the provider of their good fortunes. Najan was quick to praise God in all his good fortunes. But, unlike his Father, we cannot say that Najan "walked with God." Najan was a more "down to earth" type of person. He respected his father, his teachers in Mugaladu, and the warriors which surrounded his father. These individuals had a powerful impact on his life. Their opinions on every subject (including his own standing in their eyes) mattered to him greatly. These were his trusted friends. Thus, just as his father had relied on God alone as a friend – and source of vision – Najan tended to rely on trusted counselors for friendship – and source of vision. Their vision easily became his vision. Indeed, Najan had learned early in life how one got ahead by listening to wise counsel. It had been his "salvation" on many occasions. And this is how he appraised and respected people around him. He appreciated the power of human wisdom. He was thus always very careful that his own words and deeds were conducted in a "wise" manner. Fighting by his father's side for almost ten years had also toughened up Najan. He was a good fighter, brave and shrewd. He actually distinguished himself even in the early days of the invasion of Mugaladu by offering insightful ideas concerning strategies – including the one of bypassing the well-fortified cities. [Indeed, Durbar recognized early in this campaign that his hopes of bringing his son forth to administer conquered territory had been very well placed.] The apprenticeship of prince Najan
Very quickly, as a minister of state, Najan gathered around himself advisors from both groups: the central Asian "veterans" and the Mugaladu "establishment." Knowing the mindsets of both worlds, he was able to get them to work together agreeably enough – in bringing a new order to Mugaladu. Najan already appreciated the fact that the ancient law code that underpinned the Mugaladu moral/legal tradition was a very sound one. He had no desire to overturn it; only to learn more of its intricacies. Thus he listened intently to the Mugaladu counselors that he had long respected – even teaching his loyal central Asian veterans to do the same. But Najan recognized quickly that a law code without personal ethics to go with it was an empty shell. Here is where he drew on his instincts as a central Asian nomad who had watched his Father's "firm but just" handling of his subordinates. This provided no small amount of inspiration to Najan as he considered the problem of how these fine laws should actually be administered. He was going to have to oversee the whole magisterial bureaucracy, to impress upon it the virtues and values of their conquerors. Najan proved to be unwavering in his demand for total integrity within the governing bureaucracy. He used a large number of his Asian cohorts as an inspection division – relying on their proven loyalty to follow an exact code of following out rumors of corruption, bringing the accused to a hearing of the evidence, and administering the sword unflinchingly when persons were found guilty of having abused the public trust. It didn't take long before the bureaucracy began to act with more personal integrity. The peasants breathed a great sigh of relief. Their "liberator" Durbar had also bequeathed them a marvelous son that they knew would indeed bring peace and prosperity to them for all his days. Long live the Emperor Durbar and Prince Najan! Eventually Durbar had to settle down – for he was growing old and his days of fighting were drawing to a close. He found himself spending more and more time in Pushnabad tending to the affairs of state – where he continued to work closely with Najan and the Asian veterans and Mugaladu counselors. Peace and prosperity had settled over the land and the frontiers were well defended with new fortresses and his reformed Mugaladu army under his tough-minded Asian generals. Najan takes the throne
But the time finally came that Durbar died. A great funeral was held in Pushnabad and all the country mourned the passing of Durbar: "Durbar the Great" they called him. But they drew comfort from knowing that in his son Najan, the peace of the land would continue to be protected. Indeed, there was no challenge to Najan's accession to the throne – for both the bureaucracy and the army had long recognized him as heir apparent to his father. Diplomacy, tact, wisdom – were all characteristics of the kind of rule that flowed forth from Pushnabad for the next generation. The South was brought under Pushnabad's authority – but basically with some degree of gladness once the struggle was over. Najan married Latta, daughter of the prince of Seipore – and made his father in law one of his own imperial ministers. Indeed, the imperial household grew quite large as Najan took on additional wives as the way of securing solid political ties within his far-flung domain. He was careful to respect the regional differences of the Mugaladu Empire – attending carefully to key religious ceremonies that occurred from time to time within parts of the domain. He, after all, was understood by the people to be the living link with the Heavens. Rebellion
In the 14th year of his reign trouble began to brew – not from the south, as one might have expected, but from the northwest. This area had been one of the first to come under the rule of his father and had long been thought of as the most reliable of all the provinces. But perhaps that was the problem. Too little attention had been paid to its political dynamics – and its needs as a poorer part of the realm. Further – the trouble, it was eventually discovered, came from Dirbak, one of his father’s longest -standing lieutenants. A mood of distress had been growing in the northwest, focused to no small extent by the respected Dirbak, against the too numerous "compromises" that Pushnabad had been making to the diverse cultural interests of the empire. The North-westerners thought of themselves as "purists," supposedly more loyal to the memory of the Great Durbar than the rest of the Mugaladu empire. This was a matter that pained Najan deeply – for he truly loved Dirbak and the Northwesterners. But he also knew that their behavior would be infectious to the empire. If they were permitted to show such independent mindedness within the empire, it would not be long before the other provinces, certainly the South, would be up in arms on their own behalf. Thus Najan gathered his army for action in the northwest. The fighting was ugly – for the North-westerners were a fierce and proud people. Najan knew that it would take all his superiority in numbers (roughly seven to one) to bring the province to submission. And so it went – though it took two years to bring the last of the rebellious mountain strongholds to submission. Dirbak himself was captured – and brought back to Pushnabad in chains. There he was put to the sword. By and large, this was the only sad blemish in an otherwise outstanding era of Pushnabad governance. It was a period of tremendous prosperity – and security (for the two do go hand in hand). The roads were repaired and policed, the cities fairly well cleared of extortionists and thieves, the system of water works and granaries restored to efficiency, the army trained and equipped for effective action, and the provincial and municipal courts cleared of most corruption – and enjoying the respect of the people. This was indeed a golden age for Mugaladu. The end of the second generation
But as Najan aged and began to decline in his physical powers – nervousness could be felt throughout Mugaladu. Clearly Najan expected his rule to be carried on by his eldest son, Jansi – of his first and most beloved wife, Sirah (daughter of one of the original Central-Asian generals). But Jaresh, son of his fifth wife, Latta (of Seipore) clearly had plans to challenge Jansi – either as ruler over the whole empire, or as ruler over an independent South. Either way trouble brewed. Finally the day came when the worn out Najan took his last breath. The empire mourned, deeply, and wondered what was going to happen next. |
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Jansi's devotion to the good order
Jansi, though of pure Central Asian racial stock, knew absolutely nothing first-hand about the land of his ancestors. He had heard many stories, of course. But he was truly a child of Mugaladu culture. He was three when his grandfather Durbar took over the imperial palace in Pushnabad – and he could not remember life outside of the palace. He grew up among a constantly growing entourage of lords and ladies and fellow princes and princesses. He was the oldest of the princes and princesses – most of whom were related only through his father, Najan. All but two brothers and a sister had other mothers. Being the eldest he had rank and privilege over his siblings. He received the finest of Mugaladu education – and though "Central Asian," thrilled at the stories of Mugaladu history told by his teachers. He was bright and enjoyed mathematics and philosophy. And – he had an architect's eye for orderly beauty and loved to explore the grand temples and palaces of Mugaladu. In terms of personality, he was yet quite another person in comparison to his father and grandfather. His grandfather Durbar trusted God alone. With respect to things on earth his grandfather had put little trust in anything that could not be intimidated or bought off by his own personal power. His father Najan was a bit more optimistic about human nature – at least cultivated human nature. Truly, his father had great respect for those who had disciplined their minds with learning and had proven themselves wise in counsel. But Jansi was neither as cynical as his grandfather nor as awed by the "learned ones" as his father. Jansi was more abstract – or less personal – in his trust. He was a 'structuralist.' Basically, Jansi believed in the system of laws and customs that regulated civilized life within Mugaladu. He had grown up in an orderly environment which he felt had clear benefits to all who lived within it. He was thus not only trusting of the life of civility that encircled him, he was completely wed emotionally to its existence. For him it was the source of life itself. In fact, it was bigger than life itself. It was to Jansi something worthy of worship. Indeed, the only thing in his life that he considered 'divine' was this Order. This does not mean that Jansi was not religious. Quite to the contrary: Jansi particularly enjoyed the imperial role he played alongside the Mugaladu priests in the conduct of the annual spring and harvest festivals. The grand pageantry appealed greatly to his sense of order – and beauty, for Jansi was also a person very sensitive to esthetics and the physical beauty of the temples and palaces that surrounded him. No ... Jansi was quite religious. It’s just that he was not spiritual – in the sense of being a person who took counsel from God or who ever attempted to walk with God. Instead he took great interest in the orderly working of Mugaladu society – especially its laws and its visible signs of order and strength. He had a sense that this good order was dependent upon the efficient working of its imperial administrators, its military guardians, its industrialists who provided the wealth upon which it rested. He expected – nay, demanded – that everyone should be as devoted as he to playing his part in the general order of civilized life. He seemed to be less interested in personal loyalty among his people than in total devotion to the high principles on which his government seemingly stood. He disliked corruption in government – and could be merciless in his execution of the laws against those who played it fast and loose with the system. The art of compromise was totally unknown to him. The grand shows of devotion to the Supreme God and the lesser folk gods of Mugaladu were for him simply a part of the wonderful ritual that gave a sense of order and beauty to Mugaladu life and culture. But this very devotion to the sense of order and ritual made him a very powerful administrator of the temples, the courts, the many public works projects, the bureaucracy (including the military) and the tax system he oversaw as a young prince within his father's imperial circle. It was he who personally organized the financial subscriptions from key industrialists and merchants for the rebuilding of the imperial highway from Pushnabad to the South – and he was on site often to supervise its actual reconstruction. It was he who guided the redrafting of the imperial code that regulated the manufacture and distribution of a multitude of goods that underpinned the Mugaladu economy, especially its very important cotton industry. It was he who tightened the tax codes to increase the imperial revenues so that the forts and palaces not only could be kept in excellent repair, but could also give evidence of the might and splendor of Mugaladu civilization. But these were also the traits that made the art of the politically possible something beyond his intellectual or emotional reach. In the very measure that he was a person of high (and abstract) principle, he was cold and unresponsive in the face of the complexities of life as it was actually lived by the people. He really could not understand his people – nor did he feel that he needed to. He understood neither the Central Asians who had brought his grandfather to power, nor the Mugaladu peasants on whose labors his ivory towers rested. His attitude was that if everyone simply did the right thing, no matter who they were or where they came from, life would be grand for all. And for those unable to do the "right thing," he had little understanding, compassion or mercy. Hiding himself within these high principles, he had little feel for the people on whom his rule depended – nor did they have any feel for him as their imperial "father." This was a great emotional impediment for a people used to relating "personally" to their cosmos: their homes, their fields and shops, their family and neighbors, the hills around them and the sky above – and the God who stood over it all. They were not as "abstract" as Jansi, and found it difficult not knowing how to fit him personally into their world. Jansi, the "builder"
In addition to Jansi's love of order, he also loved beauty, especially architectural beauty. He spent much time with architects and artists in redesigning palaces, strengthening but also beautifying the walls of imperial forts and military garrisons, designing and building new and bigger mosques and temples for worship, designing and building new imperial schools or universities, constructing buildings around the empire for imperial officers to work from, etc. These would be the things that would cause later generations to look back to his rule as comment on how "high" civilization was during Jansi's rule. What was not understood, either by Jansi or his later admirers, was how all of this actually marked the beginning of the decline of his family's dynastic position in Mugaladu society. There were no more worlds to conquer. No more enemy civilizations to plunder. Whatever costs were involved in the building of such lavish monuments to his rule would have to be borne by the common people through new taxes. Some of this would play to their advantage, such as perhaps the mosques and temples. But by and large this costly building program of Jansi's would bring the people little other than financial hard times. But Jansi would not hear the groaning of the people. He was incapable of such a hearing. Civil war with Jaresh
Jansi's half-brother Jaresh, on the other hand, seemed to have a deep instinct for playing to the feelings of the people. As a youth he was as wild and reckless – as much as Jansi was prim and orderly. And Jaresh's doings, astonishing enough as they were, merely got even more colorful in the retelling. Jaresh was very popular with the people simply for his heroics – and he well knew that he had the people's affections as his most important asset in life. Further, being wild and daring – he was not going to be one to simply stand by and let Jansi receive the imperial throne because the laws said that it was his right to do so. Jaresh knew very early that the day would come when he would be pitting his personal popularity against the claims of Jansi to the legal right to the Mugaladu throne. The precipitating event was a public demonstration against new taxes which turned itself into looting and arson in a town in the southern province of Seipore. Efforts of Mugaladu officers to bring order to the town produced only bloodshed – and a spread of the rioting to other southern towns. The speed by which the revolt spread seemed astonishing to Jansi, until he received word that it was not all entirely spontaneous. There was clearly political organization behind the spreading revolt – and Jaresh was apparently the chief organizer. Soon it was no secret. Jaresh was now boldly presenting himself as the people's champion against the economic tyranny of Jansi's Pushnabad government. It was at first unclear if he was directing a Seipore independence movement – or if he had the takeover of the imperial title in Pushnabad as his ultimate goal. But nonetheless the challenge to Jansi as emperor was clear enough. When Jansi called out the imperial troops to crush Jaresh's rebellion, many of them refused to leave their barracks. And many others were clearly joining Jaresh's growing army. Jansi was furious. If some of his soldiers in Seipore wanted to defy their emperor – if they wanted war – then so be it. They would live to regret this violation of his rightful rule as their emperor. Casting this now as full civil war, Jansi called out the northern generals and their armies and began to move them toward the south. The troops were not well disciplined – for there had been very little in the way of fighting that the Mugaladu army had experienced over the past couple of decades. And the "enemy" that Jansi's troops were supposed to crush was not a clearly defined element. As the imperial troops entered the Seipore province they could feel the hostility in the air. Jaresh's troops remained elusive – moving quickly here and there through the province, occasionally raiding an imperial weapons depot, occasionally ransacking and burning garrison quarters that had been abandoned by troops who had deserted the imperial cause. But Jaresh never presented himself or his men in direct conflict with the imperial troops. Instead he played a cat and mouse game with the imperial troops, hitting here, hitting there, never decisively, but always in a way that unnerved the imperial troops. Jansi's troops were given two orders: be tough on the troops who had defied Jansi's mobilization orders and be as gentle as possible with the local civilian population. But executions of mutinous soldiers did not suppress the mutiny; rather such tough measures only seemed to spread the mutiny all the more, to a point where even male civilians were joining Jaresh's growing rebellion. Also, as the hunt for the elusive Jaresh dragged on, the food and supplies of Jansi's troops were running short, and the imperial army was forced into the position of having to "requisition" food and supplies from an already unsupportive population. Things were not going well for Jansi. As weeks turned into months and as the Seipore province showed no signs of bending to the imperial will of Pushnabad, murmurs began to be heard within the imperial capital itself. The war was proving costly, the imperial treasury was already very close to empty and the continuing loyalty of the imperial troops was questionable as quartermasters ran short on pay for the troops. Perhaps Jansi should consider the wisdom of letting the mercurial Jaresh have his province, and just simply admit that it was costing the empire more than it was worth to hold the Seipore province. But Jansi was a man of principle – and could find no good principle in such a compromise. A year went by and the Seipore rebellion continued – at least to the extent that Pushnabad truly had little effective hold on the province except for garrison posts here and there – which the imperial army was increasingly afraid of venturing out from. To solve the problem of soldiers' pay Jansi had imposed a new round of taxes on the "loyal" Northern provinces. But this brought no joy to Mugaladu. What was saddest to Jansi was that all building projects had come to an end – for the lack of funds. But still, despite the growing consensus around him that he should simply cut his losses and let go of Seipore, Jansi stood firm in his decision not to back down. Weary and losing faith in his own ability to rule, the worst thing that could happen to Jansi took place. One morning early, while he was still trying to sleep, a small armed guard came to the imperial bedchamber and dragged Jansi off to a cold palace storeroom that had obviously been prepared for just this event. "By what authority do you commit this insult to the imperial majesty?" he roared out. And his heart sunk as he heard the words, "by the order of Prince Bashan." His oldest son, the heir apparent to the imperial throne, had ordered his father imprisoned and deposed as Emperor. |
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| The
first order of the day under Bashan was simply to offer official
recognition of Seipore being no longer under the authority of the
Pushnabad government. Jaresh was now in charge of that province
... for better or worse (mostly worse as it turned out, as Jaresh
himself soon proved to lack true political wisdom). In any case,
Bashan felt that with the Seipore problem thus "solved," he could now
focus on matters shaping his own world ... a world a bit smaller at
this point. One thing not lacking in the young new Emperor was self-confidence. From birth it was understood by everyone that someday Bashan would be emperor of Mugaladu. This place of privilege earned him countless adoring friends who competed for his company – because just the mere nearness to Bashan brought considerable favors and prestige. This situation had a tremendous impact on how Bashan viewed life, with all of its various dynamics. No matter what he said, no matter what he did, Bashan's pronouncements and Bashan's actions set the standards for everyone – everyone he knew anyway (which was quite a large number of people, to be sure). Sadly, however, he truly had no understanding whatsoever of larger life, life as it was lived outside the palace, outside the circle of his worshipful friends. Actually, his realm of knowledge was amazingly small – though his mind was quick and his imagination fertile. He found the instructions of his tutors to be boring in the extreme. Being future emperor by life's design, he saw no need to work at or discipline his mind. Everyone around him complimented him on his wonderful judgment, his natural wisdom that made him indeed a superior person. So all of the prattle of his teachers seemed to Bashan to be pointless. What did hold Bashan's attention (albeit briefly) were things and events that excited his deep running passions. He loved horse races and polo games. He loved the theater – especially the more lewd presentations. He loved gambling – especially where the stakes were breathtakingly high. He loved to eat lavishly and drink himself into a stupor. But above all he loved sex – just about any variety imaginable. All these pursuits offered brief respites from the boredom that otherwise was a general affliction in his life. He dreamed often of when he would be Emperor – when he would have it all. Of course as a dreamy youth, having a living father was a bit of a problem. Indeed his relationship with his father was not warm. His father busied himself with all his imperial projects and seldom saw his son. His mother, however, was another thing. She doted on her son, who would one day be her champion – in a way her husband Jansi had neglected to be. She schemed for Bashan and with him – and was part of the conspiracy that put Jansi in prison. His mother had been the one to arrange Bashan's marriage to one of the wealthiest court families in Pushnabad. The pressure his mother put him through in order to consummate this marriage was the one sore point in Bashan's relationship with his mother. Bashan rather liked the total freedom he had been experiencing up until that time. He was not interested in the responsibility of being anyone's husband. In fact he was rather sure that he preferred the sexual company of men to that of women. In any case he finally submitted to his mother's will to marry. But the marriage was hardly a happy one for either party. Now that he was Emperor – and thus had finally attained the greatest of his ambitions – he of course had all the responsibilities that went with such a position. As to these, however, he was about as interested as he had been in his studies and in his marriage. Rather he left imperial responsibilities to "trusted friends" – not realizing he had no way of evaluating anyone as to whether or not they were indeed "trusted friends." Needless to say, nepotism, swindling, and negligence soon established itself as the reigning mood of the palace – and soon thereafter as the ethic of the imperial apparatus that governed Mugaladu. Bashan did not notice that tax money was not reaching the imperial coffers. Much of it was being siphoned off by both local princes and petty officials. The idea that the Imperial treasury might someday run out of money seemed about as remote a possibility as the sun deciding no longer to come up again. As far as the general morale and shape of the military, Bashan had no idea of the importance of military discipline or elan. To him the military was mostly a group of young men who paraded in front of his palace from time to time in a display of devotion to their beloved Emperor. How long could this go on? How long could Bashan live within this sterile world of aristocratic remove from the serious features of life? The cycle begins again
The answer to that question was being worked out, even as Bashan contemplated his Imperial privileges, in a faraway place north across the mountains in Central Asia. Little would Bashan have known that there a young man, an orphan who had been born into a world of hard knocks, was beginning to make his mark on the tribal world around him. Little would Bashan have known that a young man was pursuing a sense of destiny that one day would answer the question that all of Mugaladu was beginning to ask: how long? |
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| Back in those early 1970s, when I first delivered this parable, I asked my students where they believed America belonged in that parable. Some answered "the Second Generation." But most decided that America seemed to find itself in the Third Generation. That was a half century ago. What do you think would be their response if I posed that same question today? |
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The Fathers or "Framers" of the American Constitution (1787)
When the Fathers of the American Constitution gathered in Philadelphia during the summer of 1787 to come up with a more effective form of government than the old Confederation they had been working under during and since the War of Independence (1775-1783), they of course had some ideas of their own (which they argued about) as to what this new government should look like. Working from political "logic." Of course, like all people (especially lawyers, which most of them were) they loved to work from the "purity" of their own personally developed logic or sense of reasoning in designing carefully the new political order that needed to come into being. Most critically, they needed to develop together a formula that would keep the newly independent "states" (no longer just English colonies) – Massachusetts, New York, Maryland, Virginia, etc. – that they represented working closely together. Despite their victory in the recent war against the English king and his armies, these "Americans" were quite aware that the English were never really far away ... and treaties, like the Paris Treaty of 1783 in which the English king formally recognized American independence, were notoriously short-lived and could be – and usually were – quickly revoked when new opportunities presented themselves. Thus they needed to work quickly and effectively in constructing a new political order that would offer them a means of mutual protection against an English king seeking to recover his lost American colonies ... or if not the English, then possibly the aggressive Spanish ... or perhaps even the ambitious French. Also working from personal experience. Yes, in fact those who gathered in Philadelphia2 that summer were men who thrived in the world of ideas, especially political ideas. Yet unlike most "Idealists" (even of their own days), most all of them had experienced first-hand the deadly perils of politics, especially the politics of war. It is amazing how quickly ideal or rational theory fades in the face of the unpredictability of real politics ... especially the way violent conflict like the war they had just been through cares little about intellectual theory. Survival is a highly risky process. They were well aware of what would have happened to them if their rebellion against the English king had failed. Rebellion against a sitting king was considered a crime of treason ... and had they failed they all would have been led to the gallows to be hanged by a vengeful English government. No ... these Idealists were by painful necessity also ardent "Realists." Long experience in self-government. Part of the realism that directed these Framers of the new Constitution also came simply from the 150+ years of self-government that had quite successfully guided their colonial world. During those years the English king and his royal court – which, back in England, the people had long been accustomed to govern them rather absolutely or totally – had been far, far away from these colonists. The King and his court were all the way on the other side of the Atlantic ... at least a month’s distance in travel time (usually more). Political communication between England and her American colonies therefore was quite limited. Thus it was that since the founding of the American colonies in the early 1600s, the American colonials had learned to simply take care of themselves, politically, economically, socially ... and spiritually. The New Englanders, as Calvinist Protestants, were in fact spiritually a completely self-sufficient people. And the Virginians and other southern American colonials – though respectful members of the Church of England (headed by the English King) – were just as defensive when it came to protecting their rights to self-government ... and had been themselves quite active in the recent rebellion against King George. Thus it was that the colonials and their elected representatives had personally come to know a great deal about directing their own social order ... as the English-Americans faced Indians, French, Spanish, pirates – and the necessity of finding funds and personal support to meet those challenges. The lessons of war ... and peace. In fact it had been only recently that the issue had come up of having to submit themselves to the rule of a king ... rather than rule under their own hands. This in fact was what the rebellion we know as the "American Revolution" (which I personally term as the "War of Independence") was ultimately all about. These English-Americans appreciated the responsibility of self-government ... and were in no mood to give all that up. They were not going to change the way they had long conducted political, economic and social business on this side of the Atlantic just because an English King on the other side of the Atlantic demanded that they do so. Thus they would fight to the death to preserve their long-standing independence. (There's actually nothing very "revolutionary" about protecting long-standing political, economic and social habits!) The American colonials had developed some degree of cooperation among the different colonies prior to the outbreak of the rebellion/war. The war itself then naturally had required of the colonial leaders a political operation of greater complexity and deeper inter-personal commitment than had existed previously. Thus the colonial leaders had come together during the war to organize an inter-colonial "Confederation" ... which worked fairly well (more or less at times) in creating politically and economically a united colonial front against the aggressive king and his royal troops – and a large number of American "Tories," especially numerous in the South, who remained loyal to the king ... even serving in his army. But with the war now over, the need for inter-colonial (now "inter-state") cooperation seemed to be much less pressing. Indeed, these former colonies – now independent states – had recently begun to compete with each other as sovereign entities ... each state now looking out for its own narrower interests – diplomatically, politically, economically, etc. And working from the wisdom that the knowledge of human history provides. Here is where the American political leaders' own intellectual credentials now paid off ... as they faced the challenge of formulating something entirely new as a government: a federation of sorts that would keep them together at some effective level ... without the benefit of a compelling challenge such as they had experienced so recently in their war with England. They needed to design and implement a new inter-state government, one that would continue to unite them in peace, but allow them also to continue to live under the wide American freedoms they had long experienced and had just reconfirmed in the recent war. They did have some idea of what they wanted ... because they were educated men. And back then "educated" meant that they had a very strong background in history. In short, they had historical models to work from ... good and bad. Three of these models were quite well known to them: Ancient Israel, ancient Greece, and ancient Rome. They also knew – from history – the problems as well as the possibilities that accompany any form of government they might choose. Indeed, they were quite aware of what happened long ago to the city-states of ancient Greece ... after the Greeks had beaten back the ambitions of their mutual enemy Persia – that is, what happened to these Greek city-states once the sense of collective threat had faded. Peace had brought these city-states only the rise of narrower self-interests – ones that eventually led them to fall into full war against each other (the Peloponnesian Wars) ... a series of wars that ultimately led to their own self-destruction as sovereign states and societies. They thus knew most deeply that something similar must not now happen to the newly independent American states as well. 2Actually tiny Rhode Island did not send representatives to participate in the conference drafting the new constitution ... fearing the loss of their right of self-government to the political interests of the larger, more powerful states such as Virginia, New York or Massachusetts. |
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| "Democracy" not a very compelling idea.
Like the ancient Greeks Plato and Aristotle, they were aware of the
dangers of "democracy" ... understanding how clever and thus quite popular Greek public
speakers ("demagogues") had been responsible for bringing Greece to
ruin. Greek "Sophists" ("wise ones") had trained young men of the
leading families in the political art of getting the public to bend to
their will during the public debates. But unfortunately, without
much moral instruction accompanying such intellectual empowerment, this
also included the ability to get the Greeks to do some really
self-destructive things ... such as the Peloponnesian Wars. American government as a "Republic." Ultimately the model they chose (mostly) was inspired by the idea of the Roman Republic ... explained in detail as to its ideals and processes by the ancient Roman writer/politician Cicero, whose writings they were well familiar with as educated Americans. A "Republic" was a government of law rather than personal will ... the latter – personal will – typical of the way that kings, military dictators, demagogues, etc., have typically led or ruled whole societies historically. These American leaders were hoping that, like the Roman Republic, a regime of strict laws would both empower and yet set precise boundaries in the conduct of American self-government. They wanted no government run by the will of a single individual ... such as the English King George III, whom they had just risen up in rebellion against. And indeed "Republic" (from the Latin, res publica or "thing of the people") was the label they finally put on the governmental formula they came up with. America was to be governed as a Republic of fixed laws ... not as a Democracy of "ever-rational" or "ever-progressive" (meaning "ever-changing") personal wills. Even here they were hesitant, for they knew well from history that the Roman Republic failed after several centuries of excellent service to the Romans ... when the military and their generals (imperators or "emperors") took over the running of Rome – thus turning Rome into an Empire instead of a Republic. Here too, the political instincts of the people got carried away by Roman "tyrants" (actually meaning "champions of the common people") – military men supported by their loyal troops, who took power in the name of the people. But in fact, from that point on (around the time of the birth of Christ) these emperors ruled from the vantage point of very expensive and wasteful military power ... rather than from the strict dictates of the law – or any further involvement of the common people. Thus it was that the Roman Republic (thing of the people) became the Roman Empire (thing of military generals). Thus when the work of the constitutional convention was over and the participants finally opened up to the public (their sessions had been held in secret to avoid unwanted special interest pressuring from outside) and Ben Franklin was asked what kind of a government the delegates had delivered them, his answer was: A republic ... if you can keep it. Again, from their deep knowledge of political and cultural history, they knew very well the good – and the bad – involved in governing: how a government can succeed ... and how it can fail. |
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| It
is too bad that Americans generally have lost that sense of history,
believing that we have escaped from the perils of the past into a
"progressive" culture that needs not be bothered by how things worked out
for people in the past. We believe ourselves to be instinctively
too enlightened, too progressive to be liable to commit any of the
errors of the past. We have forgotten the ancient saying: "those
who forget history are fated to repeat it." This, of course, is highly indicative that we are living in the "fourth generation," (more about that in the next section) immersed so deeply in the pleasantness of palace life that we are certain that nothing outside our well-padded existence can touch us. We think we have everything "under control." All we have to do is follow our deeper natural instincts ... a path that presumably offers a much more pleasant passage to happiness ... than to be disheartened by the instructions that history cautiously sets out. Unfortunately, history repeats itself ... again, and again, and again. History as true "social science." And so, like our wise constitutional Fathers, we need to take a closer look at the historical record ... to develop a true "science" or knowledge of society. Like an experiment in a laboratory, looking at repeated events is a better way of arriving at the truth than coming up with dreamy ideas conceived in the comfort of our academic or bureaucratic offices. Beautiful utopian dreams that come to us as we couch ourselves in comfort do not substitute well for wisdom gained by looking closely at the actual record of the human efforts at governance. |
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Ancient Israel - A social model
Undoubtedly the historical model the Fathers were most knowledgeable about was ancient Israel. The Christian Bible that they were very familiar with was heavily a narrative about the ups and downs of the ancient Israelites ... how they fared and explicitly why they fared the way they did. The American Fathers knew intimately about Israel – good and bad – not just from their own regular reading of the Bible but also from the pulpits of their churches from which Israel was often cited in weekly sermons as both an encouragement ... and as a warning if people tried to go against the social laws set out by God to guide human life. And these early Americans – especially the Puritans – but also their offspring among the Founding Fathers – were very much focused on learning and living by the laws of God ... not just in the social sciences (thanks in part to Israel). They were also the leading experimenters in the fields of math, physics and chemistry ... "sciences" that also derived from the laws that God himself had set out at the beginning of Creation.3 The vital importance of being a true (thus "scientific") social model for the world to know and follow. Anyway, ancient Israel was well understood in America to be a "light to the nations," purposely called to be a visible example set up to reveal to all the peoples, all the nations, how God’s social laws work ... since social experiments, unlike physics experiments, cannot be conducted in a laboratory. Due to the complexity of the laws of society, God simply demonstrated through the "Israelite experiment" the laws of society as he made them. He even made those laws explicit through words given directly to Israel by way of the prophets. He intended for all this to be studied ... and learned from. And indeed that was a set of lessons that the Founding Fathers would have known in great detail. So we will start our narrative with Israel. The Israelite narrative is very complete in its explanation of what works and what does not work with respect to society and its governance. Indeed, we will see in this very first social model how much of the Israelite experience is repeated in the narrative of the other societies we are presenting. This is then how history becomes so very instructive as the true "science of society." The covenant with God
There is a central theme that runs through the entire narrative of the people of Israel ... right on into Christianity: that the God of Heaven actually covenants (contracts, pledges) with the Man of the earth (Adam),4 God offering ongoing counsel, protection and provision to Man ... as long as Man puts aside his own instincts to play god himself and instead submits his personal will to God – the only God. In this, the covenanted Israelites – and their descendants the Jews – served God as a guide to others, pointing the Godly way of life to other peoples, other nations ... through their own God-awarded success in life. Giving such testimony as the light to the "Gentiles" (the other nations of the world), the entire nation of Israel was to serve humankind prophetically. That was Israel's great commission ... the one that Jesus would then pass on to his own disciples, the first Christians: honor and serve God in all of your ways, that – through you – the world may also come to know of God and his ways. 3No ... Christianity and "science" are not enemies! It is just that Christians oppose very much the idea that the laws of science just "happened" into existence ... and had nothing to do with a Creator or God who willed these into existence. Christians know that these laws of science (physics, chemistry) were there in perfect form from the very outset of existence itself ... thus having to come from some source other than existence itself. This is to say that the laws of physics did not just "evolve" into being slowly over the aeons. They were always there ... even at "the beginning" – in all of their full glory. Thus it is also that Christian scientists believe that every discovery made in the field of science simply proclaims all the more the marvelous glories of a very complex but infinitely precise God. 4The name "Adam" is derived from the Hebrew word adamah ... meaning ‘of the earth.’ In the Genesis story in the Jewish Scriptures, Adam was made from the dust of the earth ... and thus should be understood to be as "Man of the Earth." Hebrew names were not of the kind we think of today when we call someone George or Elizabeth, or William or Tanya. They were actually titles describing special qualities of the individual and could be changed – just as Abram became Abraham and Jacob became Israel – in describing a new status or character they had taken on. Thus Adam should not be understood as a proper name but as a title assigned to the one who serves in the Jewish narrative as the model of all of us as ‘Sons of Adam,’ sons and daughter of the Adam who was a prototype of Man himself ... good and bad. |
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| This "covenant" that guided Israel was well understood by the Founding
Fathers. This is why the wise Ben Franklin had cause during the
debates
over the new constitution to get up to speak. At that point,
discussions were
heated and not going well (and the heat of that summer of 1787 in
Philadelphia itself did not help matters any!). Political debates
over this matter and that were simply circling around and around.
Even some
of the New York delegation had headed home in disgust. The work
that the Founding Fathers had been appointed to undertake was breaking
down. So Franklin spoke up (recorded in the notes taken by James Madison):
According to Madison, the delegates sat speechless after Franklin sat down. This was not the kind of input that they would have expected of the famous man of common sense. But apparently the speech had some kind of impact, for that marked the point at which the discussions finally began to move forward, rather than go round and round. Sadly America has chosen to lose this deeper understanding of the greatest of America's early political-social philosophers (and scientists). But this is exactly why the work here is being undertaken: to restore that very same wisdom, a wisdom which guided the country through one of its most challenging times ever ... and has done so repeatedly when the country, like Israel of old, found itself faced with a very serious social crisis. We are going to need that wisdom again – probably sooner than we might wish – because today's fourth-generation America (as any fourth-generation society) is not destined historically to last very long as such. |
Miles
H. Hodges
