PROPHECY: Has "our democracy" already died?

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 19, 2024

The Iliad meets The Sixth Sense: Once again, we're prepared to admit it:

We awoke on Saturday thinking of a set of immortal lines.

As of yesterday, we were regretting the fact that we did! But as we first admitted on Monday, the lines in question came from Book Six of the Iliad, with Hector telling Andromache, "his generous wife," why he had to return to the battle which was raging on the plains outside Troy:

And tall Hector nodded, his helmet flashing:
All this weighs on my mind too, dear woman.
But I would die of shame to face the men of Troy
and the Trojan women trailing their long robes
if I would shrink from battle now, a coward.
Nor does the spirit urge me on that way.
I've learned it all too well. To stand up bravely,
always to fight in the front ranks of Trojan soldiers.
winning my father great glory, glory for myself.
For in my heart and soul I also know this well:
the day will come when sacred Troy must die,
Priam must die and all his people with him...

As November's election approached—as next week's debate approached—we awoke on Saturday morning thinking of Hector's prophecy. Also, we thought of a corresponding prophecy, one widely heard in today's Blue America:

If Candidate Trump returns to the White House, "our democracy" itself may die.

("Our democracy," such as it is—such as it ever has been.)

By yesterday, we were sorry that we had decided to focus on those rhyming prophecies. 

What may be coming to our own Blue America is hard to discuss. As we noted on Monday, here's what happened to sacred Troy after Hector was slain by Achilles, with his body dragged through the dust behind the rage-filled warrior's chariot:

The whole poem has been moving toward this duel between the two champions, but there has never been any doubt about the outcome. The husband and father, the beloved protector of his people, the man who stands for the civilized values of the rich city, its social and religious institutions, will go down to defeat at the hands of this man who has no family, who in a private quarrel has caused the death of many of his own fellow soldiers, who now in a private quarrel thinks only of revenge...

The images of that night assault—the blazing palaces, the blood running in the streets, old Priam butchered at the altar, Cassandra raped in the temple, Hector's baby son thrown from the battlements, his wife Andromache dragged off to slavery—all this, foreshadowed in the Iliad, will be stamped indelibly on the consciousness of the Greeks throughout their history, immortalized in lyric poetry, in tragedy, on temple pediments and painted vases, to reinforce the stern lesson of Homer's presentation of the war: that no civilization, no matter how rich, no matter how refined, can long survive once it loses the power to meet force with equal or superior force.

According to legend, so it went when sacred Troy died—when the more civilized Hector fell to the powerful, rage-filled warrior who had only revenge on his mind.

As every later Greek citizen knew, Hector's prophecy in Book Six turned out to be accurate. Our current, rhyming prophecy starts to be tested on CNN next Thursday night.

Here in Blue America, we perceive ourselves to be the more "refined" of our nation's dueling civilizations. We picture ourselves as the ones who embody the "civilized values" of the Iliad's Troy, while our fellow citizens in Red America are the ones who have aligned themselves with a man who (in effect) has no family, has caused the death of many of his own fellow soldiers, who now in a private quarrel thinks only of revenge.

T our ear, a lot of rhyming is going on in the present circumstance. Also, we'll admit it! We're fascinate by the varied "sexual politics" on display in that first "poem of war."

In modern parlance, Troy's civilization is portrayed as the civilization of "family values." By way of contrast, the invading Achaean armies embody a civilization of "toxic masculinity."

In his lengthy introduction to the 1990 Robert Fagles translation, Professor Knox sketches the contrast. In this passage, he's discussing Hector's speech to Andromache, the speech we've briefly excerpted above:

[Andromache] begs him to cease fighting in the forefront of the hand-to-hand battle on the plain, to adopt a defensive strategy and command from the walls. Hector's sad reply reveals his tragic dilemma. His feeling for her prompts him to accept her suggestion but he cannot do it. He is the leader, the commander, as his name suggests: Hector means "Holder." He is the one who holds the Trojan defense steady by his example and he must fight in the front ranks. In any case, the standards of martial valor by which he has always lived will not permit it.

[...]

But deep in his heart he knows that the effort is futile, that Troy is doomed. He realizes what that will mean for her and hopes that he will not live to hear her cries as she is led off to slavery. He is distracted from this dark vision of the future by the terrified cries of his own baby son, who recoils screaming from the bronze-clad man who moves to embrace him. Forebodings of the future, no matter how well-founded, have to be brushed aside if life is to go on, and Hector now speaks in more hopeful terms as he prays that his son will grow up to be a greater man than his father and then comforts his sorrowing wife. This scene reveals the greatness of Hector as a complete man; we see not only the devotion of the warrior who does his duty and fights for his people, even though he knows that they are doomed, but also his greatness as a husband and father—a striking contrast with the atmosphere of the armed camp on the shore.

The scenes in question must be among the greatest ever hatched by the western world's collective intelligence. But in that account by Professor Knox, we see the clash of civilizations in the Iliad applied to the realm of sexual politics, with Hector portrayed as a loving husband and father, Achilles as a rage-filled, highly toxic killing machine.

For ourselves, we think that Professor Knox overstated the greatness of Hector's sexual politics—his greatness "as a complete man." More on that before the week is done. For now, we'll leave it at this:

Here in Blue America, we tend to portray our nation's current culture clash in terms which resemble those lodged in the quoted passage. 

Good God! How we've been inclined, down through the years, to flatter ourselves for our stances in our nation's culture wars, and to flatter no one but ourselves!

Meanwhile, without providing a spoiler alert, we've given away the outcome! After sacred Troy dies, noble Hector's generous wife is dragged away in slavery. Nor does the horror end there:

Their baby son—"the darling of his eyes and radiant as a star"—is thrown to his death from the high walls of the defeated city.

Hector's sister is raped in the temple. Priam is butchered at the altar, in line with his noble son's prophecy. 

The more refined, more civilized society dies at the hands of the angrier, more primitive gang of lunatics who have been gathered at the shore, demanding that they get Helen back.

What will happen if President Bidne can't hold his own next Thursday night? Within the context of modern framing, Blue America's rhyming prophecy foresees a similar end for "our democracy," such as it ever has been.

We still want to show you the lines in which Hector and Andromache converse in Book Six, in the several famous scenes which occur before Hector rejoins the battle. (He returns home safely that day.)

We still want to suggest that the sexual politics of that scene brilliantly echoes our own today—our own sexual politics, to the extent that we in Blue America have ever had any such creature.

We Blues! Persistently, we flatter ourselves with the idea that we possess such civilized values. For today, we'll leave it at this:

"Our democracy," such as it ever has been, has already died!  It died in the pages of our childish journalism over the course of the past forty years, as we denizens of Blue America persistently failed to see what was occurring.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep, but those of us in Blue America are "people people" too. We aren't the brilliant, superior, civilized beings of our fertile imaginations

There's nothing wrong with that! But as in The Sixth Sense, so too here:

"Our democracy" is already dead! It's been dead for quite a while. We just aren't able to see this!

Tomorrow: We soldier on