sábado, 7 de setembro de 2024

The Pre-Modern Order, by Patricia Crone; Book review by Arnold Kling - Comentário anônimo

Um longo comentário de um leitor anônimo de meu blog Diplomatizzando, a uma postagem que fiz de resenha de im livro de Patrícia Crone sobre o mundo pré-moderno, que estou repostando na sequência.

Paulo Roberto de Almeida, 7/09/2024

Esse é um livro nota 10, um dos meus favoritos e dos que eu mais gosto de recomendar. 
A autora ter um viés medieval não é acidente e o papel central da antiguidade clássica e especialmente da república romana seguida pelo começo do imperio (o "principado") no ensino de história é parte do motivo desse livro ser elucidador pra muita gente. Essas sociedades eram muito atípicas: a guerra naval conduzida por remadores vindos das camadas mais pobres que se possivel iriam preferir lutar como infantaria (mas pra isso teria que poder bancar seu equipamento) é provavelmente a razão detras do surgimento desses varios microestados mais ou menos democraticos. Atenas e Rodes ambas polis gregas democraticas no seu periodo de auge naval mas Roma e Cartago não eram tão diferentes em sua organização política exceto por controlarem impérios muito maiores do que a velha liga de Delos. A primeira guerra Punica entre elas com 7 batalhas navais envolvendo centenas de navios e dezenas, por vezes centenas de milhares de homens permanece insuperada como maior guerra naval em termos de marinheiros envolvidos, e a próxima batalha naval em escala semelhante ocorreria de novo somente em Lepanto 1500 anos depois, logo antes da transição plena para canhoes o que desfavoreceu as velhas galés impulsionadas ppr remadores. Exércitos gregos frequentemente elegiam e destituiam seus lideres se assim quisessem mesmo numa expedição heterogênea como na famosa marcha dos 10 mil relatada por Xenofonte. Outra pratica pitoresca era a de exércitos cartagineses em campanha julgarem e crucificarem generais julgados como incompetentes. Bem mais tarde a Crise do Seculo Tres em boa parte foi causada pelos varios exercitos regionais "votando" em imperador apesar da comitia centuriata ter sido extinta por mais de 200 anos antes. Roma
durante a república realizava censos completos a cada 5 anos cobrindo boa parte, eventualmente toda a Itália, censos provinciais mais tarde embora raramente preservados tambem ocorreram, a exemplo do citado no Novo Testamento. A elevada idade no primeiro casamento tem origem nesse periodo, devido a prática de conscrição geral cidadãos romanos adiavam o casamento para depois de finalizarem seu serviço militar. Apesar do fim da conscrição na transição para o principado, a pratica persiste desde então e é exportada para regioes onde nunca tinha ocorrido. Nesse período também que a pirataria é eliminada nos litorais sob seu controle e durante a famosa paz romana quando o volume de comércio atinge niveis somente ultrapassados muito mais tarde, com a integração econômica entre as regiões do litoral mediterrâneo com vários exemplos arqueológicos de regiões inteiras se especializando em cultivos segundo vantagens competitivas de solo e clima: mais notavelmente a Itália substituindo cultivo de grâos por uvas e azeite apesar de já estar importando grão da África (atual Tunísia) desde pelo menos as guerras civis da república. Mesmo as redes de comercio de bens de luxo se expandiram com as vastas quantidades de moedas romanas na India e romanos chegando por mar na China no famoso caso do que provavelmente eram mercadores confundidos pelo historiador chinês com emissarios trazendo tributo. 
A proximidade do litoral era um fator chave devido ao menor custo de transporte: o interior europeu onde o urbanismo era novidade foi mais afetado pela introdução do urbanismo e várias tradiçoes religiosas e filosoficas ao ponto que o cristianismo em questão de 100 anos entre a adoção por Constantino e o colapso do lado ocidental sob Honório era predominante e já estava se espalhando para regiões como a Irlanda e a Alemanha. 400 anos depois no tempo de Carlos Magno a fronteira do cristianismo era a mesma, terminando na Saxônia e tendo até recuado na europa oriental.

George Gurdjieff e seus 83 conselhos para uma vida melhor - Andre Quintao

Reproduzindo uma postagem de sete anos atrás... 

quarta-feira, 15 de fevereiro de 2017

George Gurdjieff e seus 83 conselhos para uma vida melhor - Andre Quintao


George Gurdjieff viajou o mundo e deixou 83 conselhos para uma vida mais leve

George Gurdjieff foi um professor, escritor e compositor armênio de grande conhecimento sobre inúmeras questões da vida. Conhecimento esse que ele adquiriu em diversas viagens pela Rússia, Afeganistão, França e outros países. Ensinava filosofia e autoconhecimento profundo. Estes ensinamentos auxilia nossa visão de como se relacionar com o mundo, com as pessoas e internamente com seus próprios desejos. Uma visão clara e sábia sobre viver livremente, mas com responsabilidade sobre si e os outros.
Esses ensinamentos foram reunidos em 83 conselhos dados por Gurdjieff em um livro feito pelo escritor Alejandro Jodorowsky, “O Mestre e os Magos”.
Confira abaixo todos os conselhos do professor Gurdjieff e veja tudo de bom que eles podem trazer e acrescentar à sua vida.
  1. Fixe a atenção em si mesmo, seja consciente em cada instante do que pensa, sente, deseja e faz.
  2. Termine sempre o que começar.
  3. Faça o que estiver fazendo da melhor maneira possível.
  4. Não se prenda a nada que com o tempo venha a te destruir.
  5. Desenvolva sua generosidade sem testemunhas.
  6. Trate cada pessoa como um parente próximo.
  7. Arrume o que desarrumou.
  8. Aprenda a receber, agradeça cada dom.
  9. Pare de se autodefinir.
  10. Não minta, nem roube, pois estarás mentindo e roubando a si mesmo.
  11. Ajuda seu próximo sem deixá-lo dependente.
  12. Não deseje que te imitem.
  13. Faça planos de trabalho e cumpra-os.
  14. Não ocupe muito espaço.
  15. Não faças ruídos nem gestos desnecessários.
  16. Se não têm fé, finja ter.
  17. Não se deixe impressionar por personalidades fortes.
  18. Não te apropries de nada nem de ninguém.
  19. Divida de maneira justa.
  20. Não seduza.
  21. Coma e durma estritamente o necessário.
  22. Não fale de seus problemas pessoais.
  23. Não emita juízos nem críticas quando desconhece a maior parte dos fatos.
  24. Não estabeleça amizades inúteis.
  25. Não siga modas.
  26. Não se venda.
  27. Respeite os contratos que firmaste.
  28. Seja pontual.
  29. Não inveje os bens ou o sucesso do próximo.
  30. Fale só o necessário.
  31. Não pense nos benefícios que virão da tua obra.
  32. Nunca faça ameaças.
  33. Realize suas promessas.
  34. Coloque-se no lugar do outro em uma discussão.
  35. Admita que alguém te supera.
  36. Não elimine, mas transforme.
  37. Vença seus medos, cada um deles é um desejo camuflado.
  38. Ajude o outro a ajudar-se a si mesmo.
  39. Vença suas antipatias e aproxime-se das pessoas que você deseja rejeitar.
  40. Não reaja ao que digam de bom ou mau sobre você.
  41. Transforme seu orgulho em dignidade.
  42. Transforme sua cólera em criatividade.
  43. Transforme sua avareza em respeito pela beleza.
  44. Transforme sua inveja em admiração pelos valores do outro.
  45. Transforme seu ódio em caridade.
  46. Não se vanglorie nem se insulte.
  47. Trate o que não te pertence como se te pertencesse.
  48. Não se queixe.
  49. Desenvolva a sua imaginação.
  50. Não dê ordens só pelo prazer de ser obedecido.
  51. Pague pelos serviços que te prestam.
  52. Não faça propaganda de suas obras ou ideias.
  53. Não tente despertar, nos outros em relação a você, emoções como piedade, admiração, simpatia, cumplicidade.
  54. Não tente chamar a atenção pela sua aparência.
  55. Nunca contradiga, apenas cale-se.
  56. Não contraia dívidas. Compre e pague em seguida.
  57. Se ofender alguém, peça desculpas.
  58. Se ofender alguém publicamente, peça perdão publicamente também.
  59. Se perceber que falou algo errado, não insista no erro por orgulho e desista imediatamente dos seus propósitos.
  60.  Não defenda suas ideias antigas só pelo fato de ter sido você quem as enunciou.
  61. Não conserve objetos inúteis.
  62. Não se enfeite com as ideias alheias.
  63. Não tire fotos com personagens famosos.
  64. Não preste contas a ninguém, seja o seu próprio juiz.
  65. Nunca se defina pelo o que possui.
  66. Nunca fale de você sem conceder-se a possibilidade de mudança.
  67. Aceita que nada é teu.
  68. Quando pedirem a sua opinião sobre alguém, fale somente de suas qualidades.
  69. Quando você ficar doente, em lugar de odiar esse mal, considere-o como seu mestre.
  70. Não olhe dissimuladamente, olhe fixamente.
  71. Não esqueça seus mortos, mas dê a eles um lugar limitado que lhes impeça de invadir a sua vida.
  72. Em sua casa, reserve sempre um espaço ao sagrado.
  73. Quando você realizar um serviço, não ressalte seus esforços.
  74. Se decidir trabalhar para alguém, trate de fazer com prazer.
  75. Se você tem dúvida entre fazer ou não fazer, arrisque-se e faça.
  76. Não queira ser tudo para teu cônjuge; admita que busque em outros o que você não pode dar.
  77. Quando alguém tenha seu público, não tente contradizê-lo e roubar-lhe a audiência.
  78. Viva dos seus próprios ganhos.
  79. Não se vanglorie por aventuras amorosas.
  80. Não exalte as suas fraquezas.
  81. Nunca visite alguém só para preencher o seu tempo.
  82. Obtenha para repartir.
  83. Se você está meditando e um diabo se aproxima, coloque-o para meditar também.
Conheça mais George Gurdjieff no Wikipédia

sexta-feira, 6 de setembro de 2024

O prazer intelectual como objetivo de vida (2016) - Paulo Roberto de Almeida

 

sábado, 8 de outubro de 2016

Mini-reflexão sobre o significado da satisfação intelectual como objetivo de vida

O prazer intelectual como objetivo de vida

Paulo Roberto de Almeida
 [Mini-reflexão sobre minhas preferências em matéria de hobby e conduta.] 

Eu venho de uma família bem mais pobre do que a condição social de grande parte dos brasileiros da atualidade: meus pais não tinham sequer primário completo, sem qualquer profissão definida, pois meu pai era motorista e minha mãe lavava roupa para fora para o sustento da família. Eu também passei a trabalhar desde muito cedo na vida. A grande diferença em minha vida e formação foi a de que eu residia próximo a uma biblioteca infantil, que comecei a frequentar ainda antes de aprender a ler. Foi o que me permitiu ascender na vida por meus próprios esforços, estudando em escola pública e trabalhando desde criança, e por isso mesmo estudando de noite, lendo no ônibus ou em qualquer lugar. Eu me fiz por minhas leituras e por meu trabalho, mas nunca pensei em ganhar dinheiro ou ficar rico, e sim em ter prazer intelectual pela leitura, e através do estudo, que resumem todos os meus objetivos de vida.
O que se puder fazer para estimular o gosto, e mesmo a necessidade da leitura, constante, regular, intensa, dos bons livros, nos jovens, nos nossos filhos e netos, é um empreendimento meritório em si, e digno de ser levado adiante, em quaisquer circunstâncias, em qualquer tempo e lugar. Não tenho nenhuma outra recomendação a fazer senão esta, muito simples na verdade: o estímulo ao estudo, à leitura, a reflexão própria, a produção intelectual, a promoção do saber, pelo saber em si, não necessariamente por qualquer outro objetivo. 
Ajudou-me, nessa trajetória individual de ascensão social, que pode ser considerada exitosa -- uma vez que hoje faço parte de um grupo considerado de elite dentro do funcionalismo público, o dos diplomatas -- justamente o fato de ter podido, por mérito e esforço próprios, ingressar por concurso, ou por seleção pelo talento, a profissões, na academia e na diplomacia, que me são amplamente gratificantes, no plano puramente intelectual, do ponto de vista do que mais prezo na vida, e que nunca foi o dinheiro, a riqueza ou o conforto material, e sim o prazer intelectual, a satisfação espiritual, a realização pessoal, que é a de viver num mundo de livros, de saber, de conhecimento, para mim, se possível ajudando outros a ter o mesmo tipo de perspectiva na vida.
Contribuiu também enormemente para isso o fato de ter encontrado alguém, Carmen Lícia, minha mulher, que também mantém, e exerce intensamente, o mesmo gosto pela leitura, pelas viagens, pelas descobertas intelectuais, pelo prazer de ter conhecimento das coisas. Fui gratificado por essa circunstância, que se não é excepcional, no sentido de ser exclusiva, constitui pelo menos uma condição essencial para uma vida de satisfação intelectual.

Paulo Roberto de Almeida 
Brasília, 8 de outubro de 2016

PS.: Se, um dia, eu resolver escrever minhas memórias (eu não tenho muito o que contar no plano das atividades públicas), elas serão basicamente intelectuais, ou seja, falando de livros, de ideias, de teorias, de conhecimento, e das ideologias, das falsas ideias e dos equívocos conceituais que muito fizeram por afundar o Brasil (e boa parte da América Latina), nestas décadas e décadas de frustração com a roubalheira, a incompetência, o atraso, a desigualdade, a miséria intelectual de nosso continente.

"Reagan Didn’t Win the Cold War - How a Myth About the Collapse of the Soviet Union Leads Republicans Astray on China" - Max Boot (Foreign Affairs)

 "Reagan Didn’t Win the Cold War - How a Myth About the Collapse of the Soviet Union Leads Republicans Astray on China"

Max Boot

Foreign Affairs, september 2924

 

...To be sure, there is a superficial allure to the thesis that Reagan brought down the Soviet Union and won the Cold War, because Reagan sometimes spoke of doing just that.

... As the journalist Fareed Zakaria has noted, the Soviet economy accounted for roughly 7.5 percent of global GDP at its peak; China today makes up about 20 percent of global GDP. There are no policies that the United States can plausibly implement that will “defeat” China—it is hard to know what “defeating China” even means. It is easy, however, to imagine that unrelentingly hard-line policies from both the United States and China could raise the risk of a nuclear war.

 

 

Reagan Didn’t Win the Cold War

How a Myth About the Collapse of the Soviet Union Leads Republicans Astray on China

By Max Boot

September 6, 2024

 

U.S. President Ronald Reagan addressing a news conference in Washington, D.C., October, 1983

Mal Langsdon / Reuters

 

 

When Republicans strategize about how to deal with China today, many of them point to President Ronald Reagan’s confrontational approach toward the Soviet Union as a model to emulate. H. R. McMaster, who served as national security adviser under President Donald Trump, argued: “Reagan had a clear strategy for victory in the global contest with the Soviet Union. Reagan’s approach—applying intensive economic and military pressure to a superpower adversary—became foundational to American strategic thinking. It hastened the end of Soviet power and promoted a peaceful conclusion to the multi-decade Cold War.” A trio of conservative foreign policy experts—Randy Schriver, Dan Blumenthal, and Josh Young—made the case that the next president “should draw upon the example of former President Ronald Reagan in taking hold of China policy,” citing “the intent to win the Cold War against the Soviet Union” that “permeated” Reagan-era national security documents. And in Foreign Affairs, Trump’s former deputy national security adviser Matt Pottinger and the former Republican representative Mike Gallagher cited Reagan to argue that “the United States shouldn’t manage the competition with China; it should win it.”

I would have been more sympathetic to these prescriptions before I spent a decade researching Reagan’s life and legacy—uncovering a historical record that is sharply at odds with the legends that have come to surround the 40th president. One of the biggest such myths is that Reagan had a plan to bring down the “evil empire” and that it was his pressure that led to U.S. victory in the Cold War. In reality, the end of the Cold War and the fall of the Soviet Union were primarily the work of Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev—two consequences of his radically reformist policies (the former intended, the latter unintended). Reagan deserves tremendous credit for understanding that Gorbachev was a different kind of communist leader, someone he could do business with and thereby negotiate a peaceful end to a 40-year conflict. But Reagan did not bring about Gorbachev’s reforms, much less force the collapse of the Soviet Union. To imagine otherwise is to create dangerous and unrealistic expectations for what U.S. policy toward China can achieve today.

WHAT REAGAN REALLY DID

To be sure, there is a superficial allure to the thesis that Reagan brought down the Soviet Union and won the Cold War, because Reagan sometimes spoke of doing just that. Richard Allen, Reagan’s first national security adviser, recounted to me a conversation that he had with the former governor in 1977 as he was preparing for his 1980 presidential campaign. “Do you mind if I tell you my theory of the Cold War?” Reagan said. “My theory is that we win, they lose. What do you think about that?”

Once in office, Reagan raised defense spending—he undertook the largest peacetime military buildup in U.S. history—and launched the Strategic Defense Initiative to create a “space shield” against nuclear missiles. He also provided arms to anticommunist insurgents in Afghanistan, Angola, and Nicaragua, along with secret, nonlethal assistance to the Solidarity movement in Poland. Reagan often talked tough about the Soviet Union and forthrightly called out its egregious human rights abuses. In 1982, he prophesied that “the march of freedom and democracy” would “leave Marxism-Leninism on the ash heap of history.” In a 1983 speech, he labeled the Soviet Union “the focus of evil in the modern world.”

The most compelling evidence to suggest that Reagan had a strategy to defeat the Soviet Union—cited by advocates of a get-tough approach to China today—is a pair of now declassified national security decision directives issued in 1982 and 1983 by Reagan’s national security adviser, William Clark. NSDD 32 called on the United States to “discourage Soviet adventurism” by “forcing the USSR to bear the brunt of its economic shortcomings, and to encourage long-term liberalizing and nationalist tendencies within the Soviet Union and allied countries.” NSDD 75 further elaborated on the need “to promote, within the narrow limits available to us, the process of change in the Soviet Union toward a more pluralistic political and economic system in which the power of the privileged ruling elite is gradually reduced.”

It is easy to draw a direct connection between the policies enunciated in NSDDs 32 and 75 and the epochal events that followed just a few years later and culminated in the end of the Cold War. Indeed, Clark’s admiring biographers, Paul Kengor and Patricia Clark Doerner, called the policies “the directives that won the Cold War.”

THE CONFLICT WITHIN

Reality, however, is a lot messier than this simplistic story line. “It’s tempting to go back and say, ‘You know, we had this great strategy and we had all these things figured out,’ but I don’t think that’s accurate,” Reagan’s secretary of state George Shultz told me. “What is accurate was that there was a general ‘peace through strength’ attitude.”

Indeed, accounts that focus only on Reagan’s get-tough approach to the Soviet Union during his first term miss a big part of the picture. Reagan’s approach toward the Soviet Union was neither consistently tough nor consistently conciliatory. Instead, his foreign policy was an often baffling combination of hawkish and dovish approaches based on his own conflicting instincts and the clashing advice he received from hard-line aides such as Clark, Secretary of Defense Caspar Weinberger, and CIA Director William Casey and more pragmatic advisers such as Shultz and national security advisers Robert McFarlane, Frank Carlucci, and Colin Powell.

In dealing with the Soviets, Reagan was constantly torn between two opposing images. On the one hand, there was the human suffering behind the Iron Curtain: after an emotional Oval Office meeting on May 28, 1981, with Yosef Mendelevich, a recently released political prisoner, and Avital Sharansky, the wife of the imprisoned Soviet dissident Natan Sharansky, Reagan wrote in his diary: “D—n those inhuman monsters. [Sharansky] is said to be down to 100 lbs. & very ill. I promised I’d do everything I could to obtain his release & I will.” On the other hand, there was the specter of nuclear destruction if the U.S.-Soviet confrontation spun out of control. This danger was brought home to Reagan by a nuclear war game, code-named Ivy League, on March 1, 1982. While Reagan watched from the White House Situation Room, the entire map of the United States turned red to simulate the impact of Soviet nuclear strikes. “He looked on in stunned disbelief,” the National Security Council staffer Tom Reed noted. “In less than an hour President Reagan had seen the United States of America disappear. . . . It was a sobering experience.” Reagan’s policy toward the Soviet Union was thus far less consistent than most of his admirers would admit. Although his meetings with Soviet dissidents pushed him toward confrontation, his knowledge of what a nuclear war would entail tempered him toward cooperation.

Reagan did not bring about Gorbachev’s reforms, much less force the collapse of the Soviet Union.

While many Reagan fans have suggested that NSDD 32 and 75 amounted to a declaration of economic warfare against the Soviet Union, Reagan repeatedly acted to reduce economic pressure on Moscow. In early 1981, he lifted the grain embargo that President Jimmy Carter had imposed the previous year in response to the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan. When a Soviet-backed regime declared martial law in Poland in December 1981, Reagan imposed tough sanctions on the construction of a Siberian gas pipeline to Western Europe before lifting them the following November in response to opposition from European allies. Hawks were frustrated by the president’s willingness to renounce one of the United States’ most powerful economic instruments without getting any concessions in return. Writing in The New York Times in May 1982, the editor of Commentary, Norman Podhoretz, aired these frustrations under the headline “The Neo-Conservative Anguish Over Reagan’s Foreign Policy.” Podhoretz complained that Reagan’s reaction to the imposition of martial law in Poland was even weaker than Carter’s reaction to the 1979 invasion of Afghanistan: “One remembers easily enough that Carter instituted a grain embargo and a boycott of the Moscow Olympics, but one is hard-pressed even to remember what the Reagan sanctions were.”

Conservatives would have been even more horrified if they had known that Reagan was secretly reaching out to the Kremlin at the time. In April 1981, Reagan sent a sentimental handwritten note to Soviet leader Leonid Brezhnev professing his desire for “meaningful and constructive dialogue which will assist us in fulfilling our joint obligation to find lasting peace,” and in March 1983, two days after calling the Soviet Union an “evil empire,” the president privately told Shultz to maintain lines of dialogue with the Soviet ambassador, Anatoly Dobrynin. Indeed, Reagan hoped to meet with a Soviet leader from the start of his presidency and lamented during his first term that Soviet leaders “keep dying on me.”

Many admirers now give Reagan credit for a calculated strategy that combined pressure and conciliation, but this approach bore little fruit in his first term, instead baffling Soviet leaders: “In his mind such incompatibilities could coexist in perfect harmony, but Moscow regarded such behavior at that time as a sign of deliberate duplicity and hostility,” Dobrynin wrote in his 1995 memoir.

In 1983, a series of escalating crises—including the Soviet shootdown of a Korean civilian airliner, a false Soviet alert of a U.S. missile launch, and a NATO war game (code-named Able Archer) that some Soviet officials saw as a cover for a preemptive U.S. attack—raised the fears of nuclear war to their highest levels since the 1962 Cuban missile crisis. Realizing that the risk of Armageddon was very real, Reagan consciously dialed back his hawkishness. In January 1984, he delivered a conciliatory speech in which he spoke of how much the typical Soviet citizens “Ivan and Anya” had in common with the typical Americans “Jim and Sally” and promised to work with the Kremlin to “strengthen peace” and “reduce the level of arms.”

The problem was that Reagan had no partner for peace at the time: during his first term, the Soviet Union was successively led by the elderly hard-liners Leonid Brezhnev, Yuri Andropov, and Konstantin Chernenko. Only when Chernenko died in March 1985 did Reagan finally find a Soviet leader he could work with in Gorbachev, a true “black swan” who rose to the top of a totalitarian system only to dismantle it.

THE UNEXPECTED COLLAPSE

Those who argue that Reagan brought down the “evil empire” usually focus on Gorbachev’s ascension as the turning point, crediting the U.S. president and his defense buildup with the selection of a reformer as general secretary of the Soviet Communist Party. The problem with this theory is that no one in early 1985—not even Gorbachev himself—knew how radical a reformer he would turn out to be. If his colleagues on the Politburo had known, they likely would not have selected him. They had no desire for the Soviet empire, or their own power and privileges, to end.

Gorbachev did not want to reform the Soviet system in order to compete more effectively with the Reagan defense buildup. In fact, it was the opposite. He genuinely worried about the dangers of nuclear war, and he was appalled by how much money the Soviet Union was spending on its military-industrial complex: an estimated 20 percent of GDP and 40 percent of the state budget.

This was not a reflection of a Reagan-induced crisis that threatened the bankruptcy of the Soviet Union but rather a product of Gorbachev’s own humane instincts. As the historian Chris Miller has argued, “When Gorbachev became general secretary in 1985, the Soviet economy was wasteful and poorly managed, but it was not in crisis.” The Soviet regime, having survived Stalinist terror, famine, and industrialization, as well as World War II and de-Stalinization, could have survived the stagnation of the mid-1980s as other, poorer communist regimes such as China, Cuba, North Korea, and Vietnam did.

There was nothing inevitable about the Soviet collapse, and it was not the product of Reagan’s efforts to spend more on the military and to curb Soviet expansionism abroad. It was the unanticipated and unintended consequence of the increasingly radical reforms implemented by Gorbachev, namely glasnost and perestroika, over the objections of more conservative comrades who finally tried to overthrow him in 1991. The Soviet Union broke up not because it was economically bankrupt but because Gorbachev recognized that it was morally bankrupt and he refused to hold it together by force. If any other member of the Politburo had taken power in 1985, the Soviet Union might still exist and the Berlin Wall might still stand, just as the demilitarized zone still divides North Korea from South Korea. Although he did not induce Gorbachev’s reforms, Reagan deserves credit for working with the Soviet leader at a time when most conservatives warned that the president was being hoodwinked by a wily communist.

Reagan and Gorbachev hardly saw eye to eye on everything. They clashed over human rights in the Soviet Union and Reagan’s beloved Strategic Defense Initiative. But despite temporary setbacks, the two leaders signed the first arms control accord to abolish an entire class of nuclear weapons, the Intermediate-Range Nuclear Forces Treaty, in Washington in 1987, and in 1988 the Reagans traveled to Moscow. During the visit, as the two leaders strolled through Red Square, Sam Donaldson of ABC News asked Reagan, “Do you still think you’re in an evil empire, Mr. President?” “No,” Reagan replied. “I was talking about another time and another era.”

PRESSURE DOESN’T MAKE PEACE

There is little evidence that pressure on the Soviet Union in Reagan’s first term made the Soviets more willing to negotiate, but there is a good deal of evidence that his pivot toward cooperation with Gorbachev in his second term allowed the new Soviet leader to transform his country and end the Cold War. Yet many conservatives conflate Reagan’s second-term success with his first-term failures, applying the wrong policy lessons to relations with communist China today.

Ramping up confrontation with Beijing regardless of the consequences risks a repeat of the war scares that brought the world to the brink of catastrophe in 1983, and such a strategy has even less of a chance of success today. Even if it was not on the verge of bankruptcy, the Soviet Union’s economy was weak in the 1980s, thanks to communist central planning and a fall in world oil prices. China, on the other hand, has successfully combined free-market economics and political repression to become the world’s second largest economy. As the journalist Fareed Zakaria has noted, the Soviet economy accounted for roughly 7.5 percent of global GDP at its peak; China today makes up about 20 percent of global GDP. There are no policies that the United States can plausibly implement that will “defeat” China—it is hard to know what “defeating China” even means. It is easy, however, to imagine that unrelentingly hard-line policies from both the United States and China could raise the risk of a nuclear war.

The United States should continue to contain and deter Chinese aggression, limit the export of sensitive technology, and support human rights in China while still engaging in dialogue with Chinese leaders to lessen the risk of war. This was the prudent approach to the Soviet Union that U.S. presidents of both parties adopted during the Cold War. But Washingtonshould not imagine that it can transform China. Only the Chinese people can do that. Today’s confrontation with China can only end if Chinese leader Xi Jinping is succeeded by a true reformer in the Gorbachev mold. Unless that long-shot scenario comes to pass, pursuing a one-sided caricature of Reagan’s policy toward the Soviet Union is likely to make the world a more dangerous place.

 

  • MAX BOOT is Jeane J. Kirkpatrick Senior Fellow for National Security Studies at the Council on Foreign Relations and the author of Reagan: His Life and Legend.

A Review of Divino e infame. Las identidades de Rubén Darío, by Luís Cláudio Villafañe - reviewed by Alejandro Quintero Mächler (Harvard LA Studies)

A Review of Divino e infame. Las identidades de Rubén Darío

by  | 

Harvard Review of Latin American Studies, Sep 4, 2024

Fresh insight into seemingly exhausted topics often comes from unexpected places. Luís Cláudio Villafañe’s biographical account of Nicaraguan poet Rubén Darío (1867-1916), one of Latin America’s most influential and well-known artists, may serve as an illuminating case in point.  

Instead of enlarging the already incommensurable literature on the subject with a specialized monograph or yet another mythologizing account, Villafañe chose to gather, digest and put in order all the existing material on the so-called “Prince of Spanish Letters” and produce a concise, much-needed retelling of his extraordinary life and times. This, in itself, is no small feat: while academic insight on the poet continues to grow apace, the most authoritative biography to date, Edelberto Torres Espinoza’s 1952 La dramática vida de Rubén Darío, has undergone eight successive editions and currently surpasses the 800 pages in length. The Nicaraguan’s life story, in short, had become a monstrous, barely legible tale, and so a synthetizing effort seems more urgent than ever.

Divino e infame. Las identidades de Rubén Darío by Luís Cláudio Villafañe G. Santos (Taurus, 2023, 371 pages)

Villafañe’s Divino e infame. Las identidades de Rubén Darío offers exactly that, and much more. A Brazilian diplomat and historian, his “fortuitous” encounter with Darío was made possible by his appointment as ambassador to Nicaragua in 2017. For Villafañe, the experience was nothing short of transformative: apart from discovering Darío’s true stature as a groundbreaking modern artist, responsible for revolutionizing the Spanish language, he was surprised to learn that the poet had visited Brazil not only once, but twice in his lifetime. Such an unanticipated revelation prompted Yo Pan-Americanicé: Rubén Darío en Brasil (2018), in which Villafañe explored a sort of bygone, inverted mirror-image of himself: that of a Nicaraguan arriving in the recently post-imperial republic of the United States of Brazil, first in 1906, afterwards in 1912.  

This is, precisely, the sort of playful foreign gaze that pervades Divino e infame. Written by someone who did not grow under the blinding halo of Darío’s mythos, the book not only manages to bridge the Portuguese-Spanish divide, still prevalent in Latin America, but also to complicate further what has been, perhaps, a too unidimensional image of the poet. 

The first chapter excepted, the book adheres to a strict chronological order. Yet more than a shortcoming, this straightforward structure manages to illuminate what a thematic arrangement cannot: the unpredictable, chaotic, day-to-day unfolding of a life, in itself devoid of any ultimate meaning. And if this is true of any human existence, it is definitely more so with respect to Darío’s, which was particularly restless. From 1867, when he was born in Metapa, Nicaragua, to his premature passing in 1916, at the young age of 49, the poet had few moments of sedentary rest: besides living at one time or another in El Salvador, Chile, Argentina, Guatemala, Spain and France, he traveled widely across America and Europe.  

Far from avoiding the constant interruptions that such a transatlantic, nomad existence can inflict on any semblance of narrative flow, Villafañe seems to revel in its haphazardness, emphasizing Darío’s cosmopolitanism, his globetrotting uprootedness. His life, his many lives, cannot be circumscribed to a single nation, not even to a single continent ¾in this sense, a chronological table and a name index would have been a welcome addition to the book. 

As Villafañe showcases, the extent of Darío’s travels —not uncommon in the wandering careers of many writers then— reflects the peculiar position of the Latin American artist at the turn of the century, an era characterized by encroaching imperialism, accelerating means of transportation and a denser, world-wide circulation of goods. To any aspiring poet such as Darío, hailing from a poor, small country lacking in robust cultural institutions, the intensification of what we now call globalization entailed unheard-of difficulties, on the one hand, but also a whole array of novel opportunities, on the other.  

Faced with the precarity of his vocation, the Nicaraguan quickly understood that his success would depend on his ability to augment and diversify his output, cater to an increasingly international audience and, above all, secure the sponsorship of the powerful. In addition to the sporadic stipends provided by literary magazines and events, he procured a stable income as a contributor to what was, back then, Latin America’s leading newspaper: Buenos Aires’ La Nación. From 1889 to 1915, he sent to the latter close to 700 chronicles (crónicas), a genre assiduously cultivated by foreign-based modernistas and eagerly consumed by the readership at home, hungry for the latest European novelties and fashionable trends. Furthermore, Darío took special care to ensure his audience a constant flow of publications, frequently recycling old material or occasionally turning to ghostwriters.  

The trade also entailed, however, brokering multiple quid pro quo deals, as implicit as they were ubiquitous. More specifically, artists were expected to shrewdly exploit or at the very least navigate the intimate albeit unstable entanglements between art and politics. In Divino e infame, we see the Nicaraguan spend most of his time “looking for a patron,” engaging in “shameless adulation” and acting as a “courtesan poet,” always in search of “the fantasy of diplomatic sinecure.” And although he was repeatedly appointed as consul and chargé d’affaires, well-paid posts in which his overall performance was usually found wanting —Villafañe is unsparing in his evaluation of Darío’s diplomatic capabilities, given his own experience in the field—, they invariably came with strings attached. Political and ideological subservience was one of them, augmenting the patron’s image yet seriously damaging the poet’s public persona: in 1906, for example, Darío caused a continental outrage when he composed “Salutación al águila,” a poem that went against all he had formerly preached against U.S. imperialism. It was not an isolated case, for he was aware that such pleading obsequiousness, paired with a knack for self-promotion, opened many doors and “guaranteed his social position.”  

Questionable as it may seem, this shifting behavior was actually incentivized by the era’s political instability, a volatile mix of abrupt regime changes and growing U.S. interventionism. Villafañe accurately fleshes out how Darío was caught in a dense web of conflicting and often irreconcilable dualisms: in Central America, “nationalism” collided with “unionism”; at the continental stage, “Latinamericanism” resisted “Panamericanism”; and at a higher, transatlantic level, “Hispanism” ballooned in the aftermath of the 1898 Spanish-American War. Darío, there is no doubt about it, was one of the most enthusiastic promoters of “Latin America,” however problematic that essentialist idea may be. But it is no less true that he saw these identitarian themes as rhetorical tools that he could wield to ingratiate himself, if need be, with whomever was in charge.  

In the end, Darío’s opportunism qualified his own notions about art, which he regarded as emancipated and “essentially aristocratic.” This was the same man who confessed that “I was born to be Heliogabalus’ secretary” and once extolled none other than Theodore Roosevelt, of “big stick” fame, for his patronage policies. Few artists encapsulated so well the persistent incongruity between the lofty aspirations of art for art’s sake and its worldly, material conditions of possibility.  

All of the above leads straight to the mystery at the heart of this book: that of Darío’s own identity or, to quote the subtitle, various “identities,” layers upon layers of them. And Villafañe, who bathes the poet in chiaroscuro, does not shirk from delving into his darker side: the incurable alcoholism, which harmed his reputation, hurt his artistic capabilities and sent him with cirrhosis to an early grave; the repetitive mistreatment of women and the indifference towards some of his children; finally, the unending obsession with luxury, money and “pomp and grandeur,” which impelled him to pile up debt after debt in pursuance of “bourgeois prosperity” and a “good social position.” Many witnesses recognized in him the type of the social upstart or what the French called, rather derisively, a “rastaquouère,” the Latin American arriviste par excellence. But he was also shy, susceptible to external influence, pathologically afraid of the dark —he slept with the lights on—, prone to occultism and religious fits, and physically unattractive, being small and somewhat stocky. Ultimately, Villafañe reminds us, “there is no ‘true’ Rubén Darío” (355), only a baffling aggregate of contradictions. 

Famous figures tend to lose sight of themselves as their legend grows and expands. In his final years, Darío felt hopelessly deracinated, consumed by “an overwhelming solitude,” as if he belonged nowhere and to no one in particular: “everyone has a homeland, a family, a relative,” he wrote in 1913, “I have nothing.” And yet all sorts of interests, as so often happens, claimed him as their own after his death. Villafañe’s merit consists in clearing away these cumulative distortions and offering us an unprejudiced, historically informed portrait of the “liberator” of modern Spanish literature, to use Borges’ words. If one misses a more thorough analysis of his poetic oeuvre, it is only because Darío’s personality, and the backdrop against which it unfolded, invite us to re-assess it once again.   

 

Alejandro Quintero Mächler is a Research Scholar and half-time Lecturer in the Department of Romance Languages and Literatures at Harvard University.  He is the author of Perder la cabeza en el siglo XIX. Ensayos sobre historia de Colombia e Hispanoamérica (2023). 

Postagem em destaque

Livro Marxismo e Socialismo finalmente disponível - Paulo Roberto de Almeida

Meu mais recente livro – que não tem nada a ver com o governo atual ou com sua diplomacia esquizofrênica, já vou logo avisando – ficou final...