The Bite of History
Time. Each of us views time differently, depending on our cultural world-view. In the West, time is linear. In the East, it's circular, and the past, present, and future co-exist. Much has been talked about this weekend of the Armistice, signed a hundred years ago this past Sunday, ending what was then called the Great War, and is now known as World War I. What was to have been the war to end all wars merely became the prelude to another century of war, this time practiced on a much larger and much more cruel scale.
When I was a little girl, reading my scrumptious history books, the War seemed a short while ago. Anything after 1900 was not old. After all, it had only been sixty years. There were still people living that would march in parades on Veteran's Day that had fought in the War. And now, suddenly, it's a hundred years behind us, and the last eyewitness, unless a very young child at the time, and a very old person now, has passed into Time itself.
It was a selfish war. It was waged to protect and keep power and status, both in Europe and in its colonies, mostly in Africa. Innocent civilians, especially in Belgium, died for greed. Because of its atrocities, both upon civilians, and in the trenches, it was called the "war to end all wars." But it wasn't. Thirty years later, again. And, again, and again. Time seems to never have succeeded in teaching us.
Now, it's suddenly a hundred years ago. And, just as the Civil Rights had recently been fought for ten years before I became aware of them, now it's over fifty years ago. Again, it seems that instead of teaching us, time has warped, and fifty years ago is now. Again, we have voter suppression of blacks and other minorities. Again, women are told their place is in the kitchen and the bedroom. Again, there are threats against minorities who don't know their "place." As if they were knickknacks that belong on the mantelpiece instead of the dining room table. Out of sight, out of mind. It seems that no matter what battle is fought, it's never won. The battle goes on underneath the façade of victory.
In Spain, the fratricide of eighty years ago is already a long time ago. Actual combat veterans are becoming fewer. The witnesses that remain were children at the time, seeing things unravel through childhood's distorting eye. But, in certain ways, it seems we are gearing up again for hatred. The Francoists and the demócratas are standing their ground and refusing to concede defeat, but rather entrenching themselves and preparing for a long fight. What should have been put behind us was never really closed, but left to fester. Now, the boils have grown; who will lance them and how far will the infection spread?
The Eastern concept of time seems more accurate. History is not the past. It's the present and the future. It is in everything we do, while claiming it is behind us. It's not. Our problem is we choose to believe that we decide our future, but our future is being decided by our past, and our present is decided by our future. It is a circle that is in continuous motion. But we make it so, by refusing to learn from our mistakes, whether they were committed five days ago, or a hundred years ago. So, our mistakes live with us, and we live with them, but choose to make them invisible. Until they bite us, again.
When I was a little girl, reading my scrumptious history books, the War seemed a short while ago. Anything after 1900 was not old. After all, it had only been sixty years. There were still people living that would march in parades on Veteran's Day that had fought in the War. And now, suddenly, it's a hundred years behind us, and the last eyewitness, unless a very young child at the time, and a very old person now, has passed into Time itself.
It was a selfish war. It was waged to protect and keep power and status, both in Europe and in its colonies, mostly in Africa. Innocent civilians, especially in Belgium, died for greed. Because of its atrocities, both upon civilians, and in the trenches, it was called the "war to end all wars." But it wasn't. Thirty years later, again. And, again, and again. Time seems to never have succeeded in teaching us.
Now, it's suddenly a hundred years ago. And, just as the Civil Rights had recently been fought for ten years before I became aware of them, now it's over fifty years ago. Again, it seems that instead of teaching us, time has warped, and fifty years ago is now. Again, we have voter suppression of blacks and other minorities. Again, women are told their place is in the kitchen and the bedroom. Again, there are threats against minorities who don't know their "place." As if they were knickknacks that belong on the mantelpiece instead of the dining room table. Out of sight, out of mind. It seems that no matter what battle is fought, it's never won. The battle goes on underneath the façade of victory.
In Spain, the fratricide of eighty years ago is already a long time ago. Actual combat veterans are becoming fewer. The witnesses that remain were children at the time, seeing things unravel through childhood's distorting eye. But, in certain ways, it seems we are gearing up again for hatred. The Francoists and the demócratas are standing their ground and refusing to concede defeat, but rather entrenching themselves and preparing for a long fight. What should have been put behind us was never really closed, but left to fester. Now, the boils have grown; who will lance them and how far will the infection spread?
The Eastern concept of time seems more accurate. History is not the past. It's the present and the future. It is in everything we do, while claiming it is behind us. It's not. Our problem is we choose to believe that we decide our future, but our future is being decided by our past, and our present is decided by our future. It is a circle that is in continuous motion. But we make it so, by refusing to learn from our mistakes, whether they were committed five days ago, or a hundred years ago. So, our mistakes live with us, and we live with them, but choose to make them invisible. Until they bite us, again.
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