Shut up. If you can’t, don’t write. If you must put pen to paper, don’t sign. If you do sign, don’t be surprised.
Most of those who remember living under all kinds of socialist regimes, ranging from (in alphabetic order) communism, fascism, nazism, all the way to social democracy) will, hopefully, remember this saying, too.
And those who have never experienced an authoritarian system of government, that is, a dictatorship, ought to learn it as fast as possible.
Or they should stand up and say they won’t be silenced.
The sound of silence
Except, as a society, we have been silenced way too long. We have allowed all kinds of censorship to invade us as a community of humans: shut up lest you offend somebody, shut up lest someone who is not aware of developments declares your information as false (fake is the accepted word these days), shut up lest you offend scientists who believe what they had been taught in school and that’s why they describe what you’re saying as false (or fake) news.
The cancer of censorship, self-censorship included, is nothing new. It has been with us since time immemorial.
No, you mustn’t say in full the name of whatever or whoever being is up there.
No, you mustn’t draw a picture of her or him, whichever applies, even if you’d seen her or him (and spent time in her or his garden).
No real reason, just a commandment.
It has been going on and growing and those who knew what’s good for them obeyed.
So it’s nothing as if we were to be shocked by the hi-tech moronic censorship, or by the mainstream media (MSM) habitual distortion of facts, or the abuse of higher education’s motto of whatever the truth in the name of political correctness.
Most North American universities, trying (vainly) to look learned and ancient, use the Latin language to convey the message, such as: Quaecumque Vera. Not that it helps much: we can trace the origins of political correctness straight to them.
The institutions of higher learning became the first direction the would-be scientists aimed at in the late 1950s and early 1960s. Having emerged from Adolf Hitler’s Germany, the members of the so-called Frankfurter Schule were accepted as victims of the Nazis, rather than as proponents of something even more devilish than that: Marxism.
Who are they?
A few words of explanation: the Institute of Social Research (Institut für Sozialforschung in German) would become part of the University of Frankfurt as the first-ever Marxist-oriented research centre affiliated with a major German university.
The Frankfurt School researchers applied Marxism to a radical interdisciplinary social theory. Using Marxism and Hegelian philosophy, members of the Frankfurt School tried to develop a theory of society that also used psychoanalysis, sociology, existential philosophy, and other such esoteric hypotheses.
Their approach would become known as critical theory (die kritische Theorie), and you can cover any field of knowledge or ignorance under its roof. You can start with such legitimate sciences as economics and go all the way into drivel such as gender studies. It doesn’t matter what others say: they can be fobbed off using political correctness, or they can be ignored, or they can be chased into courts and sent behind bars.
The latter option seems to be easier these days than what Italy’s Galileo Galilei had to endure just because he posited that the earth was orbiting the sun, and not the other way round.
Some of the scientific resistance to innovation is a plain quirk of human character.
Imagine, if you will, that you have gained a career, as well as an influential university Professorship, and won all kinds of awards, including the Nobel Prize, for developing a theory, and it was even named after you.
And now, all of a sudden, a young punk emerges from a lab to say your theory was pure hokum, hogwash and whatever other disrespectful words come to her or his mind.
Will you admit: oh (beep), I have been wrong all along, and my only solace may be that whatever I had created became a basis my successor could build her or his opposition on?
That’s why the German physicist Max Planck, he of the quantum physics fame, had a very valid point when he observed that science makes progress funeral by funeral: the old are never converted by the new doctrines, they simply are replaced by a new generation.
Here’s what he said in his Scientific Autobiography (Wissenschaftliche Selbstbiographie): This experience gave me also an opportunity to learn a fact-a remarkable one, in my opinion: A new scientific truth does not triumph by convincing its opponents and making them see the light, but rather because its opponents eventually die, and a new generation grows up that is familiar with it.
But if only it were this benevolent.
Back to the future?
History, as taught through centuries, has been a product of the victors’ records, many agree, and they definitely have a valid point.
Yet, it is much more difficult to find the real story of who we are and whence we’re not only coming but, also, where we are going. The development of studies that include what has been known as pre-Biblical times reveals that most, if not all, of what we had been taking as read, was not even close to facts as they happened millennia ago.
This would lead to all kinds of hypotheses (theories, in some cases). They seem to indicate that most of what has happened since first humans appeared on this planet didn’t happen by sheer accident. This would lead to talk of all kinds of secret societies, from Free Masonry to the Illuminati, with tons of others in between, and the major issue here looks like that none of these theories is easy to deny, and it is tough to confirm, too.
The existing written records have been confirmed as genuine. They do indicate that the direction we’ve been going the last several centuries confirms that we’re either going to accept these developments as facts of life, or we’re going to stand up and say: no, these ideas are against all that humans have developed into humanity, and we won’t accept it, and this is the hill we’re going to die defending. One approach: we’ll just shrug and say, ah, I got vaccinated the other day, and now I’m free to travel wherever I please (no, you’re not, but that’s another problem), and now I can live again as I please (no, you can’t, but that’s another problem). Pure fatalism.
FDR and Il Duce
When Franklin Delano Roosevelt introduced his New Deal, Italy’s fascist dictator Benito Mussolini was delighted, and he kept praising the American president so loudly that FDR had to send a special envoy to Rome to tell the Duce to tone it down: his enthusiasm didn’t play well in Peoria.
The New Deal introduced what would become known as atmosphere of entitlement: your progress in life was no longer your responsibility, if you failed, government will provide.
Soviet then-leader Nikita Khrushchev observed correctly that the Soviets won’t have to fight to introduce communism in the U.S., the Americans will wake up one day, with the ugly regime staring right into their faces. (The MSM obviously remember only Khrushchev’s headline-grabbing statement that the Soviets will bury the capitalists, they never quite grasped the other parts of it.)
And China’s then-Great Helmsman, Mao Ze-dong, also knew what he spoke of when he said that his country won’t be fighting the west: the capitalists, he said, will fall into our grasp like ripe fruit, thanks to their decadence.
Which is precisely what’s happening. China has won the Third World War without wasting a single bullet, confirming Nazi Germany’s second-in-command Hermann Göring’s words that scaring the population out of their wits suffices to force them into doing whatever their dictators want them to do.
Fear is a normal human characteristic, and nobody should be ashamed of being scared.
It’s what we do about it that matters. We can shut up. If we can’t, we shouldn’t write. If we must put pen to paper, we shouldn’t sign. If we do sign, we must not be surprised.
The writing’s on the wall: Mene, Mene, Tekel, Upharsin.
Here’s what it means in contemporary English translation:
Mene: God has numbered the days of your reign and brought it to an end.
Tekel: You have been weighed on the scales and found wanting.
Peres: Your kingdom is divided and given to the Medes and Persians.
People explain it as a portent or warning of inevitable misfortune.
It’s only up to us: shall we heed it? Shall we ignore it? Will we allow the misfortune to become inevitable?
Nothing more and nothing less is at stake than our future as humans.