Can a declining civilization be resuscitated? While some can, others — like the ancient Greek and Roman civilizations — cannot. Lokmanya Bal Gangadhar Tilak believed that the ‘restive’ Indians enslaved by the British could be ‘turned’ and inspired to resurrect the flagging Indian spirit and introduced the rousing call, “Swaraj is my birthright, and I shall have it.”
I would like to use this as a frame to understand the recent developments in America and the other democracies in Europe. Take, for instance, the problems faced by the United States of America under Donald Trump, which I consider to be symptomatic of a deep-rooted, fundamental issue. The average American today thinks that the country can be ‘revived’ either by re-electing Trump or by replacing him with Joe Biden. However, I do not see the outcome of the November 2020 elections in the US having any significant long-term impact on the broader issues, such as racism, plaguing the country. I would, in fact, like to move the idea of resuscitation outside the realm of the political and into the arena of civilizations.
To begin with, let us revisit the initial conditions that led to the development of modern democratic societies. Modern democracies are based on a close relationship between freedom and development — the basis of ‘laissez-faire economics’ propounded by Adam Smith. Limitless liberty in all spheres of social activity is necessary for ensuring progress. There was an intense push for freedom to produce, inquire, explore and experiment in different areas, simultaneously promoting freedom of thought as well as the freedom to access all commodities. Restrictions were seen as evil, or, at best, a necessary evil. This striving for unfettered freedom unlocked expansive horizons, encouraging radical, often risky, initiatives venturing into unexplored areas. The sky was the limit, both for individuals and for society as a whole. This attitude has been symbolically and poignantly portrayed in works such as Ernest Hemingway’s The Old Man and the Sea, Richard Bach’s Jonathan Livingston Seagull or David Lean’s film, Lawrence of Arabia, amongst others.
This idea of freedom was predicated on freeing the individual from the bonds of family, allowing for the unrestrained pursuit of knowledge and wealth, which, in turn, paved the way for growth and development in different directions. Modern institutions were designed to encourage, nurture, and substantially reward the successful outcome of these explorations. While new ideas and creativity do exist even in societies that don’t have freedom, the necessary relationship between freedom and development is generally accepted as a successful formula.
There are roughly three phases associated with this freedom: the first is providing conditions promoting freedom; second, using this freedom in different ways; and, finally, the outcome. In my reading, the problem lies in the third phase but is rooted in the second. There seems to be a sharp difference between present-day users and early users of this freedom and of the institutions and other facilities made available in democracies. The early users had high aspirations and relentlessly pursued new avenues for growth and discovery. An innovation could have a strong impact not only in North America but all over the world. This bold attitude, however, has seen a decline in the present times. The consumers of democratic facilities are overtaking the contributors. The courage to explore the unknown and to strive for excellence — the hallmarks of early modernity — has been replaced by the desire for comfort and aspirations of an easy life in the average modern individual.
The recent rise of religiosity and the right-wing does not pose a real threat to modernity in my view. Historically, we know that during the Renaissance, modernity successfully took on the mighty Church and thrived thereafter. However, the rise of the right-wing in developed democratic societies was preceded by the decline of modernity. The latter, in fact, paved the way for the former. It is the lack of boldness and the will to adventure into unexplored areas that should be the real cause for concern.
There is also a need to reflect on the disturbing disproportion between consumers of and contributors to freedom. The institutionalization of critical thinking and professional imparting of knowledge on their own is no longer enough. Any form of methodical critical analysis requires a steady supply of path-breaking revolutionary ideas to examine. Without this, there would not be much difference between intellectual practices in the top modern universities and theological scholarship during medieval times. The critical tradition in the current times seems to have become more complacent and less courageous. Looking for political or economic solutions is futile when the problem is at the civilizational level. Here, I am alluding not to significant, even radical, advancements in knowledge that can be routinely and regularly produced, but to the current absence of the mood of bravery that permeated the early days of modernity and modern science. While the originalist or textualist position in jurisprudence in recent debates is preferable to the contextualists, there is an urgent need to write a different grammar reverberating the ecosystem that inspired the Renaissance stalwarts. Sadly this is missing.
The first indications surfaced with the rise of communism in countries like Soviet Russia when democracy was no longer viewed as a necessary condition for development. Following a brief lull after the collapse of Soviet Russia, developed democracies in the West started outsourcing their work, especially to Communist China. They initially envisaged this as a relation between unequals, without realizing how dependent they would subsequently become on China. This reminds me of the famous line from Rousseau, “One thinks himself the master of others, and remains a greater slave than they.” The vulnerabilities of this dependence became glaringly obvious during the pandemic.
Given the current state of affairs, this is the time to deliberate whether this decline is merely a passing phase or a serious threat to modern democracy as we know it. If it is the latter, can the decline still be reversed and modern civilization revived by ‘turning’ the present generation?
The author teaches philosophy at the Indian Institute of Technology, Tirupati
