Socrates on Blind Nationalism

           There is something that has been troubling my mind about Socrates and his seemingly advanced thinking. In Plato’s Crito, Socrates suggests that he has an obligation to live out his sentence because he has somehow contractually agreed to the rules of Athens. He suggests that continued residency is an implicit agreement to submit yourself fully to their governance. Hence, he says, when he is punished he has no right to try to escape, because he has lived his whole life knowing of the laws which now punish him to death. For as smart as I take Socrates to be, I’m incredibly disappointed by his counterrevolutionary support of oppressively blind nationalism.

            For starters, how exactly is one to ever forward enlightened change without breaking the rules of an intellectually suppressive society? Socrates was sentenced to death because he had the audacity to question the theocratic status-quo, but if one is to follow Socrates’ moral model, this status-quo could never be broken. The argument form lends itself to the following scenario: one wants to enact unorthodox change in Athens, so one must live in Athens, so one must contract to the practices and punishments of Athens, and so one must accept death or exile when they are found spreading revolutionary ideas. It is clear how problematic this is—by advancing a contrarian idea they have accepted death; or conversely, if you wish not to die you must necessarily accept the perpetuation of an intellectual dark age. In the fashion that Socrates himself is so admirable of, I would question him: how exactly is society ever supposed to reform when death is a necessary premise of promoting change?

            It is clear that such an approach goes directly against progressing the enlightenment that Socrates himself so proudly espouses, but is this approach even true? Is it the case that from continued residency we have implicitly agreed with our nation’s rules? Certainly this cannot be the case; residency depends on a number of factors and while a moneyed and privileged aristocrat like Socrates may suggest that the solution to such a disagreement is as simple as moving, many people simply do not have the means—nor is it necessary. It is critical to distinguish that although one has accepted the laws of a country, they have in absolutely no way accepted that such laws are just or fairly imposed. Although the opposite is surely appealing to the dominant class, if one is unjustly oppressed by their government they have no obligation to leave the country and drop the issue. At the very least, internal revolution through peaceful means is a legitimate way to push for laws that reflect justice. In class we discussed Martin Luther King, who I think very persuasively argued that it is surely moral to resist unjust laws—in his case, formal segregation; for Socrates, the suppression of his speech. In the end, it seems that if the government is really interested in their people, such discourse and revolution can only be good for the country. And if their people are not their foremost interest, well then the country should be force to collapse from the inside and blind nationalism like Socrates’ is doing nothing but helping cool the pressure.

            With all of this being said, it seems more likely that Socrates chose death for the reasons explained in Xenophon’s Socrates’ Defense To The Jury. Socrates has neared the end of his life and quite rationally, he would like to end on a high note. He is confident that he has lived piously and that this in fact may be the preferable out: “…god, in his kindness, is letting me leave life not only at the right time, but also in the easiest way.” (Reeve, 179) It is my hope and belief that this is the more accurate account of Socrates’s embrace of the death penalty. He accepted his penalty because it was what was best for him, rather than to suggest it was what he must do for Athens.

            In two different parts, Plato and Xenophon offer very different accounts for why Socrates chose death. Plato suggests that it was because Socrates believed his residency contracted his unwavering obedience to Athenian punishment. On the other hand, Xenophon reports that Socrates found the death sentence to be a convenient out of a life he could not imagine getting much better.  If it is for the former reason, Socrates has certainly proposed a very anti-enlightenment argument—in no logical form should death be a necessary premise of social change.

Spanglish

            Throughout the readings, I actually found the “Spanglish” elements of Gloria Anzaldua’s writings to be one of the most beautiful parts of the whole work. Throughout the piece, her main thesis is to attain a new type of culture: The New Mestiza. She describes this as a reinvigoration of the old culture, which migrated between two lands which are now separated by a border. Although I can’t read Spanish, I thought the small amount of confusion was well-worth it when considering its literary value. By employing a language that makes use of both English and Spanish, she rejects the xenophobia of both cultures, reflects the culture in which it was produced, and fends off what she calls linguistic violence.

            On the most basic level, she uses a mixture of Spanish and English words to reject cultural exclusiveness. She spends a large amount of time in the book chastising white culture for imposing their language onto Chicanos, but she is just as critical of the sometimes narrow-minded Chicano culture. She says that as a New Mestiza, she is a part of every race; for her identity transcends racial borders and can be found in elements of every culture. The book begins by describing the physical border between Texas and Mexico as bleeding the earth and goes on to say that because of her ethnicity, sexuality, and gender, she feels like she cannot belong in one place. Again, her identity is more substantial than oppressive racial categorization and she rejects the exclusivity of either culture by writing in a language that reflects both.

The use of a mixed language is also a serious reflection of the type of culture Anzaldua wrote it in. It reflects the ambiguity and double-consciousness of the borderlands culture in a way that is critical to the book. To make it clearer, the value of these brief passages of non-understanding is similar to the lacunas in the translation of The Epic of Gilgamesh. Although one may suffer slightly from not being able to understand or read small parts of the book, such a detriment is greatly outweighed by the contextual understanding of the history of the book itself. Just like one can enjoy the ancientness of Gilgamesh for its interpretative breaks, one can appreciate the cultural richness of La Frontera for its language mixing.

            Finally, her mixed-language use can best be defended by Anzaldua herself. In the latter half of the book, she speaks to her experience at the Pan American University and about the abusive nature of white education. She says that she was forced to take a speech class to rid her of her Spanish accent and make sure English was her dominant tongue. She describes this process as “cutting out” her “wild tongue,” clearly to admonish such practices. In rebellion, she returns not only to praise her culture, but to advance it unapologetically by interspersing words Spanish words throughout her book. By doing this, she not only makes the white readers reflect in part about feeling linguistically alienated, but she admirably disengages the intended results of her university’s “linguistic violence.”

            In essence, Gloria Anzaldua uses “Spanglish” to reinforce the critical theme of her book. It reflects the very tearing down of linguistic borders and she so ardently argues for the creation of an inclusive Mestizo culture. Yet, the mixed-language is also valuable to the reader as they try to understand the context of the text’s writing, similar to how the text-breaks in The Epic of Gilgamesh reflect its own history. She also mixes her language to refer back to the Pan American University’s attempts to correct and purify her English and show that her “wild tongue” will not be tamed. All in all, Anzaldua’s mixture of Spanish and English is one of the most engaging and rich parts of this work.

            

Freud, The Terrorizer

There is something rotten in the state of Freudian psychology. The method by which Freud advances his theories is both problematic and abusive. First, he uses his lectures to advance his original thesis; as in, his ideas as to the psychological significance of a certain dream or behavior. Then, if there is any kind of disagreement, he explains it away as a psychological issue with that person. More troublingly, because of the highly theoretical nature of psychoanalysis and Freud’s unmatched authority in the field, nobody can reject his proposals with much chance of success. For these reason, Freud has almost unchecked power in advancing or abusing the psychoanalytic process. Yet, Freud’s unlimited power relies on several important argumentative fallacies.
For starters, Freud profusely relies on ad hominem arguments to attack those who would reject his argument. He does this in a very powerful way; unlike the conventional form of attacking one’s character, he attacks their rejection by classifying it as a neurotic issue—“resistance.” He explains away anybody who would reject his theories as simply too afraid to accept reality. In one example, speaks of a client who ardently insists that he is not interested in carnal relations with his mother. What tomfoolery, Freud declares! He only denies these lusts because he patient actually suffers from another mental disability; he is just “resisting” the fact that he lusts for his mother because he doesn’t want to believe it. Freud never seems to entertain the notion that his theory could be flawed or at the very least, not applicable to every sign of maternal quasi-affection.
Even worse, Freud’s psychoanalytic abuse goes totally unchecked because of the speculative nature of psychoanalysis and his authority in the relatively unexplored field. This means that Freud can essentially indict whoever he pleases with the most inflammatory of assertions, with relatively little discourse. As mentioned, there is little to no empirical evidence in his speculations on the nature of the subconscious. Inherent to the study of a thing we are unconscious of, it is very difficult for even qualified psychoanalysts to combat him. Also problematic is the fact that Freud is the established expert in the field. He is the face of psychoanalysis and he relies on his authority to compel his patients to regard his damning judgments of them as fact. More essentially, because of the relative freshness of the field there are few other experts as well-studied as Freud who would be willing to stake their reputation to combat him.
Noting some contemporary similarities, the U.S. Government does a stellar job of placing dissenters in such a lose-lose situation. To expand on this analogy in one specific area, the government uses its nationalistic theories to suggest that certain people are terrorists. This example is not brought up to suggest that they are always or even more often than not incorrect in such accusations, but there is nonetheless an unsettling amount of cases that are similarly problematic. Anyway, after the government has made an indictment (legally or through propaganda), anybody who publicly questions that “terrorist” label is branded as unpatriotic or even as supporting terrorism. If one does not support the “War on Terror,” then one must necessarily be a supporter of terrorism. In this way, one can see a problem similar to the one raised about Freud—because of their position, the actor can make an inflammatory accusation of a person and if it is denied, such discourse is brushed off as improper. Moreover, the unparalleled authority of these actors on these matters (i.e. Freud on psychoanalysis and the U.S. Government on identifying terrorists) allows them to go largely unchallenged.
This is one of the most problematic issues of Freud’s style of analysis. He has developed a method to always diagnosis something wrong with the patient and if one stipulates that his theories are not always wholly correct, his tactics are highly abusive. This is because his theories rely on a couple fallacious argument styles. Primarily, he relies on ad hominem attacks to assert that if a patient rejects his conclusions it is not because it is inaccurate, but rather, because the patient is even more troubled. Moreover, because of the highly speculative nature of his field and his authority on psychoanalysis, his theories have few alternatives or critiques. What comes from this problematic argumentative style is a concoction for infallible character abuse that is still used even today.