George Santayana, the brilliant, Spanish-born American philosopher, is well remembered for having said (among a host of other things) that: “those who cannot remember the past are doomed to repeat it.” Indeed. We need to remember the past, and learn from history, we need to learn from the mistakes of others.

But we also need to learn to forget our own pasts.

So, Prime Minister Ardern of New Zealand jumped on the bandwagon of Western figures publicly beating their breasts for events of several hundred years ago, lamenting the past at a public event celebrating Captain James Cook’s arrival in New Zealand in 1769. Prime Minister Ardern noted that:

“We have to now make sure…that we have this conversation, that we talk about our history much more openly.”

It was noted that nine Maori were killed during Cook’s first landing, and that “Descendants of some of those killed were in attendance at Saturday’s events.”

Ardern went on to say that New Zealand should continue to learn and tell the full story of its past. “I’d ask anyone to imagine what it would be like to hear a story be retold, knowing that, actually, you lost an ancestor directly because of those encounters and not feeling like that’d be adequately told.”

Hmmmmm…

Some historical context: the first Europeans arrival, under Dutch Captain Abel Tasman (in 1742), ended with 4 dead Dutch sailors and possibly one Maori. When Cook landed there was an initial skirmish, 8 or 9 Maori died, but they later established good relations. In 1772 French Captain Marion du Fresne and 26 crewmen were killed and eaten (they thought they’d established good relations with the Maoris). Following this attack the French re-grouped and later attacked and killed several hundred Maoris.

I recall a story told by an Assistant Secretary of Defense (ASD) who had traveled incognito through then Yugoslavia (as that country was coming apart at the seams). He recounted how he and several other men ended up in a small tavern in a small town, having lunch. Sitting at the next table next was a local, already quite “in his cups” at noon.

He soon engaged them, demanded their attention. The ASD, who knew a smattering of Serbo-Croatian, listened as the man told how “they” (he never identified who “they” were) had killed his “grampa.” The man used an idiom that represents any older “father:” grand-father, great-grand-father, great-great-grandfather, etc. He finally worked himself into quite a lather and stood and insisted they come with him so he could show them where his “grampa” had been killed, where his blood had run in the street.

He dragged them out and across the town to a small corner and with great drama pointed at the curb. “Here, right here, they killed my grampa,” he told them, tears streaming down his face from the deeply felt loss. Struck by this, one of the ASD’s party asked: “When did this happen,” assuming this horror was in the recent past.

The man answered: “1839.”

So, what’s the value of remembering that, of retaining that grudge? Should I be angry at British actions in Ireland more than 150 years ago? Certainly we should take note of various policies and decisions, of how power was abused, and what steps we might take in the future to prevent such power from falling into the hands of the government, to include preventing centralization of power, as well as guaranteeing minority rights.

But, if I go beyond those political philosophy questions, if I personalize the past, and begin to consider history in light of my own life, if I place my life in the context of British behavior in Ireland in the mid 1800s, then surely I ought to also recognize that without that horrible treatment my ancestors might never have even made it to the United States. If I condemn them for the first, shouldn’t I thank them for the second?

We, particularly in the West, spend an inordinate amount of time in the business of grievance. What good does it really get us? We certainly aren’t learning the right things from this, as Santayana would wish.

There’s a fascinating line from the quite entertaining movie “Kingdom of Heaven,” as they prepare to defend Jerusalem from Saladin’s army, which sums up the situation quite nicely:

“We fight over an offence we did not give, against those who were not alive to be offended.”

Copyright 2019 Arrias
www.vicsocotra.com