When we do we will see the world as it is
Patrick LAWRENCE
This is the second of two essays on the question of our collective sight and its opposite. Part 1 of this series is here.
23 AUGUST—For over four decades, the Cold War shaped the global landscape, depending on whether one dates its conclusion to the fall of the Berlin Wall or the Soviet Union’s collapse. Beginning with Truman’s intervention in Greece in 1947 to support the fascist monarchy, the world was dominated by the East–West binary, a divisive force that overshadowed national self-expression. Only a few countries, such as India, Indonesia before Sukarno’s removal, de Gaulle’s France, and Tito’s Yugoslavia, managed to assert some degree of independence amid this polarized climate. Otherwise, nations were forced to side with one bloc or the other.
The Cold War’s conclusion dramatically altered this dynamic, granting countries fresh opportunities to craft identities free from imposed East–West frameworks. Observers in the 1990s witnessed a rare moment of promise following a harsh era for many. It felt reminiscent of the immediate post-1945 period when the same hopes and ambitions stirred anew.
Nietzsche’s well-known phrase, “Become who you are,” aptly captures humanity’s endeavor after the Cold War. Efforts focused on rebuilding social bonds deeply damaged by decades of binary conflict. Through traditions, cultural heritage, neglected histories, diplomatic relations, political and judicial systems, educational curricula, and other avenues, people and nations sought to reclaim authentic identities that had been suppressed but never fully eradicated during the Cold War years.
In my view, the Cold War’s end triggered a significant shift in collective awareness — less a fresh beginning and more a revival of enduring truths. It was as though these realities had been safeguarded, like ancient manuscripts buried away and then rediscovered largely intact. I’ve identified two such truths in previous writings. One involves demands for equality among Western and non-Western countries and communities. The other is the imperative to observe others accurately and cultivate empathy—the genuine desire to comprehend their viewpoints.
To avoid remaining abstract, consider a couple of illustrations. The People’s Republic’s insistence on recognition as an equal to Western powers reflects this demand. China’s painful history during its “century of humiliation”—stretching from the Opium Wars to the Revolution—adds depth to this assertion.
Another clear example is post-Sukarno Indonesia. During its founding leader’s tenure, politics and national pride took center stage. “The Bung,” Brother Karno, emphasized sovereignty and independence above all. When the C.I.A. toppled him and placed Suharto, a typical Southeast Asian dictator, in power, Indonesia’s identity was effectively erased. For the following thirty years, Indonesians were reduced to the label “a staunch Western ally,” a term I found increasingly distasteful during my time as a correspondent in Asia.
These 21st-century demands for parity and accurate understanding of others remain crucial. Fully grasping the ongoing revolution in global order requires recognizing the non-West’s call to end centuries of inequality. Yet here, my focus is on clear sight—the capacity, or lack thereof, within America and the broader West to perceive others truthfully. If, as I argued in the first essay, we cannot face our own realities, it naturally follows that we blind ourselves to other peoples, their cultures, and the traditions that define them.
The cost of living in such widespread blindness is immense.
Original article: thefloutist.substack.com
