The More Things Change: Part Deux

I finished Schlesinger's The Crisis of the Old Order. I know he's the bete noire of the left, especially with books like The Vital Center, but the last two-thirds of this book were quite impressive. He vividly describes the growing desperation of the Great Depression, especialy given the teeth-grinding stupidity of the discredited financiers and their government lackeys, and he makes me understand just how fantastic Franklin Roosevelt was--at last someone who was willing to listen to ideas and act on them.

"But the scope of planning was less important in the baffled years of 1930 and 1931 than the liberating emphasis on the idea itself, with its implication that men through government could do something to extricate themselves from their misery. It was the prevalent economic fatalism which exasperated Roosevelt as much as anything. When an orthodox economist told him that the only hope was to let the system strike bottom, he said to the man, with a look of disgust of his face, 'People aren't cattle, you know'" (393).

Sheer stupidity: The next book I'm reading--Philip Hallie's Lest Innocent Blood Be Shed: The Story of the Village of Le Chambon and How Goodness Happened There--recounts what happened in one, small village in France during World War II where they hid and saved several thousand Jewish refugees, just because it was the right thing to do. And somehow, even though the Nazis and the craven Vichy authorities were aware of what was occurring in this town, they managed to get through the war alive. In one memorable scene, the town's Protestant pastor and spiritual leader was arrested, although he's not sure of the charge. He tells some police officer it may be because he's tried to save some Jews, and the police officer responds scornfully:

"The captain's fury exploded. 'What? Jews? Oh--that's lovely. Now that doesn't surprise me. You're part of their conspiracy, eh? We all know that they're the ones who have brought France down into the abyss. Well, you're going to pay for this. You're going to pay for all the harm you've done to the marshall!'
This was a moment Trocme [the pastor] would never forget. In fact, his overnight stay in the police station in Limoges changed his view of mankind. He discovered people like the captain--patriotic, sincere, but above all, severely limited. These people were capable of repeating hate-ridden cliches without any concern for evidence or for the pain of others. Before he entered that police station in Limoges, he thought the world was a scene where two forces were struggling for power: God and the Devil. From then on, he knew that there was a third force seeking hegemony over the world: stupidity. God, the Devil, and halfwits of mind and heart were all struggling with each other to take over the reins." (30)

Compare this to a passage from Schlesinger's text:

"And so, in the fourth winter of the depression, American business seemed to plead not only financial but also intellectual bankruptcy. Richberg, in his appearance before the Senate Finance Committee, delivered a savage judgment. 'I submit that every conspicuous leader of affairs who has appeared before this committee and who has attempted to justify the continuance of the present political economic system unchanged, with its present control unreformed, is either too ignorant of facts, too stupid in comprehension, or too viciously selfish in his short-sighted philosophy, to be worthy of any attention in this time of bitter need for honest, intelligent, and public-spirited planning for the rehabilitation of our crumbling civilization.'" (458-9)

The ongoing presence of stupidity--a constant in human societies.