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THIRD MEDITATION ON DEMOCRACY (written Saturday, August 18, 2007)
Western Europe, and lands culturally derived from it, have made some relatively successful approximations of democracy and civil society, and combined them with noticeable prosperity. People both inside and outside this favoured zone wonder why, and they have often sought the answer in two particular areas: religious traditions, and the dramatic intellectual era called “the Enlightenment”. As someone who has written about the universal aspects of democracy, I’ve often felt some annoyance at what I consider parochial views of history, and dubious ideas of causality. I feel great sympathy for people outside the favoured zone, who are hopeful that they can have a democratic future, but are discomfited by the “second-banana” status that it seems to imply for their cultural heritage. This is especially true in the Islamic world, where past cultural glories and present embarrassments combine to make the search for democratic reform a touchy subject. I think that an excessively cartoonish view of the Enlightenment, and of the relationship between religion and democracy, is part of the problem.
I recently read two articles by Tassaduq Hussain Jillani, a supreme court justice in Pakistan. Though Pakistan has millennia of cultural achievement — it was one of the earliest centers of urban civilization — and it has a well educated population, it languishes under a crude military dictatorship. It has experienced much strife from conflicting religious factions. While its economy is a shambles, the military thugs who run the place take pride in their possession of nuclear weapons. Read more »
SECOND MEDITATION ON DEMOCRACY (written Monday, August 7, 2007)
“Civilization is the process in which one gradually increases the number of people included in the term ‘we’ or ‘us’ and at the same time decreases those labeled ‘you’ or ‘them’ until that category has no one left in it.” — Howard Winters, an American archaelogist who studied ancient settlement and trade patterns [quoted by Anne-Marie Cantwell in Howard Dalton Winters: In Memoriam]
“Voice or no voice, the people can always be brought to the bidding of the leaders. That is easy. All you have to do is to tell them they are being attacked, and denounce the pacifists for lack of patriotism and exposing the country to danger. It works the same in any country.” — Hermann Wilhelm Göring, second in command to Adolf Hitler.
What most tellingly distinguishes democratic from non-democratic thought is its respect for human beings. By this, I don’t mean respect for some nebulous abstraction called “humanity” or “the people”, which is all too easily transformed into a mystical collectivism. It’s a respect for real-life individual human beings, who live, fall in love, have children, and struggle to find security and happiness. In democratic thought, the wellbeing of individual human beings is the purpose and measure of political choices. Wellbeing, to the democrat, is defined first in terms of what matters most to conscious beings — liberty, self-respect, dignity, control over their own lives. The physical necessities of life, such as food and shelter, are meaningless to human beings except within the context of those values. We are not cattle. Read more »
Friday, July 13, 2007 — Cheering News
Three very pleasant items in tonight’s news.
Criminal financier Conrad Black, who is also a member of the British House of Lords, has been found guilty on four counts (racketeering, obstruction of justice, money laundering, and fraud) in a Chicago court, and may face prison time. While he is probably not a big name in the United States, and the trial drew only moderate coverage from American media, it was followed with great interest in Canada, where he has been despised by most decent people for decades. Read more »
Image of the month: Hrad Karlštejn

Hrad Karlštejn (Karlštejn Castle), just outside Prague, Czech Republic. Founded under Charles IV of Bohemia when he was elected Holy Roman Emperor. There is a tradition that he had the miners from Kutna Hora who constructed its underground water reservoir murdered so that none could reveal its existence.
Saturday, May 19, 2007 — Books and Sausages
Three days in Budapest. We did a lot of walking in this city, which has a feels totally different from Prague. Often, we ate in the gigantic Central Market. This grand structure originally incorporated an indoor canal by which goods were delivered to the market’s traders. It must be four times the size of the St. Lawrence Market in Toronto, and houses only god knows how many tons of sausages. I particularly liked snacking on lángos, flat disks of fried dough which came with a variety of ingredients, sort of like pizza slices. They would be a big hit in Canada if they were introduced. Read more »
Wednesday, May 16, 2007 — Drunk As A Skunk
Back in Braşov, we had a late lunch at the cafe on top of Tâmpa Hill (995 m), then split up to have a break from each other. I contacted an acquaintance in Braşov, Titus Peride, and we met for beers and talk at a subterranean student bistro. A very enjoyable discussion about Romanian culture and history, economics, and other subjects. When this finished, I walked toward the hostel, and dropped into a small cafe. But one thing led to another, and I found myself drinking with a group of Romanians. Some were actors, one who had played many serious roles, such as the plays of Ioenesco and Genet’s Le Balcon. The conversation was a chaotic mixture of Romanian, French, Italian, Magyar, Russian, German, Turkish and Arabic, all jumbled together with a background score of Romanian doina and clouds of cigarette smoke. I was completely unprepared for the style of drinking in such a context: full tumblers of whiskey followed by glasses of sickly sweet Red Bull, alternating. I stumbled back to the hostel, where Isaac and I shared a single room. A few hours later, Isaac found me pawing confusedly at the door handle, trying to get to the bathroom to throw up. The world was spinning around me, and the only way I could manage was to crawl on my hands and knees. I was not a pleasant sight.
I had not been so shit-faced drunk in many years. I’m not normally a heavy drinker, and this kind of socializing is not my style. But I sobered up relatively quickly, the next day. We did a bit more sight-seeing, got tickets for an evening train to Budapest, and ended up going back to the hostel to relax. We watched an American teen comedy called Kids In America in the hostel lounge. The long train ride to Budapest would not involve much sleep. The compartment was full, with some elderly women who chattered in Romanian pretty much non-stop. No comfortable position was possible. It must have been torture for Isaac, who has very long legs. Finally, somewhere in Hungary, the ladies left the train, and we stretched out, exhausted, for a few hours of snoozing.



