I find Walzer and Ash’s arguments particularly interesting. Walzer’s concepts of “truth” and “justice” and Ash’s proposal that democracy is a new, innate normal both seem squishy. But despite this, I find both arguments convincing. And it seems that their squishy-ness is exactly what enables them to be so effective. Walzer comes to a conclusion that our concepts of truth and justice stem from our larger experiences and teachings, our morals are just an “abstraction […] that only alludes to the complexity of the original.” Ash’s argument is similar: that somehow we are drawn to democracy through our deep morals. Obviously, these statements are both hard to verify or falsify. But I think these two arguments verbalize a truth that people feel across the world in a variety of settings. They have a way of making me (and, I presume, many Westerners) better understand why I feel passionate about the protection of democracy, truth, and justice. But I also recognize my biases. I live in a Western democracy that values truth and justice, and it is entirely possible that someone living in, say, an Eastern dictatorship would scratch their head at my values. So even though I find these arguments interesting, I am also aware that I cannot read them without bringing my personal experiences and moral beliefs to the table.

As we discussed in class, I think this argument, that the end of history has arrived simply because humanity is out of new ideas, is incredibly difficult to falsify. We have all agreed that liberal democracy is the second best solution- but in comparison to what (at least in today’s industrialized societies)? People today have not thought of a better answer, but that doesn’t mean one does not exist. According to Ash and Walzer, however, the end of history is “now” just because we are converging on a common goal of true, just, open “Western” democracy. At this very moment, though, someone might be imagining a society that may exist in the near future but that none of us have considered a viable possibility up to this point.

The end of history discussion specifically brings to mind, again as we discussed, the huge uptick in dystopian literature, especially for young adult readers. Of course, none of us want to live in a society like that displayed in “The Giver”, “Hunger Games”, or “1984”. But, as science and technology continue to accelerate at a blistering pace, I don’t doubt that these societies could be a possibility very soon. Then, I do not doubt that someone will lead a revolution against technologically-driven tyranny, and the society that could emerge from such a conflict may look nothing like anything we have seen before or imagined. Thus, I don’t find any of the arguments that we are all converging on a “copy of a copy of a copy” very compelling- I am confident there are no limits to human imagination and our capacity to innovate as a species.

Like Fukuyama’s “End of History” thesis, disproving Walzer’s universal-made-particular claim regarding morality seems difficult. Indeed, the quick example of the “Golden Rule,” an empathy-based dogma, finds itself in religions across the world. With my limited experience in this world, shaped by a firmly liberal, Western upbringing, I have a hard time speaking beyond my own perspective, but I would like to agree with Walzer’s claims regarding humanity. He claims that “humanity has members but no memory, and so it has no history and no culture,” and goes on to add, “the members of all the different societies, because they are human, can acknowledge each other’s different ways, respond to each other’s cries for help, learn from each other, and march (sometimes) in each other’s parades.” Again, I would love to believe that this is true or would one day be true, but it is too idealistic to have faith in. With a feeling of growing complexity in this world, it is hard to trust that empathy and a steadfast commitment to justice will prevail. With the dual tension of local conflict keeping many people preoccupied and global problems growing increasingly complex, responding to cries abroad seems unlikely (with the refugee crisis as a clear example). Indeed, it’s hard to argue that our thin morality offers us sufficient grounds to dive into problems that are often deeply shrouded in thick morality; can adequate faith in our thin morality convince us that we are solving others’ problems rather than worsening them? Certainly, it is difficult to be convinced by such arguments (along with Fukuyama’s and Ash’s) that focus on universal ideological convergence in an age where splintering feels never-ending as new battles continue to emerge. As such, perhaps my skepticism is solely related to my worries towards the world we live in; I would love to see an unimaginable surprise to dispel such doubts.

In comparison to Fukuyama’s end of history theory, I find it difficult to falsify the “unversal-made-particular” theory put forth by Michael Walzer. Both theories ignore, and supersede the question of “when” or under what circumstances these things will happen in society. Fukuyama’s argument remains debatable until there is somehow a way to prove that ideological struggle no longer exists–this seems near-impossible to me. Walzer’s theory also escapes any limit of time. He argues that “unless we can identify a neutral starting point from which many different and possibly legitimate moral cultures might develop, we can’t construct a proceduralist minimum.” Certain values like “truth” or “justice” have no identifiable conception or expiration date for Walzer and, rather, are universally understood (though they are implemented on a case-by-case basis). Both these claims function on the basis that we simply haven’t reached a point in time when we are able to disprove them. They resonate equally with me, and I am convinced that they are true. However, I am skeptical that either of them could yet (or ever) be disproven with concrete examples, which for me, undermines the legitimacy of the theories as compared to others that might be more debatable.

It seems that Michael Walzer ignores the possible dangers of moral minimalism. In a way, it can feel like the closest thing to his argument would be the populist movements that have occurred in the 21st century. These movements thrive off of elites being bad, the government being corrupt, and elections being rigged. However, another segment of the population has developed other minimalism ideas which are completely different from these populist ideals. Therefore, it seems that politics in many Western democracies have turned into debates between these ideals. For me, this shows it is completely impossible for an entire population to develop a universal set of minimalist ideals. Walzer’s essay depends on a vast majority of the world adopting the same ideas. Ironically, these simplistic ideas seem to be the source of tension in many countries.

In comparison to Walzer, I’m more inclined to believe Fukuyama’s End of History essay. However, this is more because his essay is impossible to falsify. Its structure allows Fukuyama to counter any criticism with: “Well, everyone is heading towards a democracy eventually.” It leaves the reader in the awkward position of trying to invent a completely new political doctrine just to counter an essay. Overall, I don’t buy the End of History. I think it’s more productive to focus on the present, rather than trying to predict events centuries ahead of time.

I find Walzer’s assumption of morality as a universal slightly dangerous. He states, “It’s not the case, however, that people carry around two moralities in their head,” and he continues that all people “have some sense of what tyranny is and why it is wrong” in order to relate to protestors in other countries. Like the arbitrary and ascribed nature of identity we have discussed, I am wary of assuming that there is a universal moral code. Even the proof Walzer cites, such as reading about ‘justice’ in Deuteronomy, shows an underlying Christian-centric and Western-centric worldview that inherently shapes his personal moral code. While he argues that morality is both general and culture-specific, believing in the existence of any universal basic morality could lead to harmful intervention and cultural imperialism. For example, the United States government has intervened in countries from Chile to Iraq because of the assumption that democracy is a universal value and a Western/US-specific definition of, as Walzer puts it, “what tyranny is and why it is wrong.”

“Yet the truly remarkable thing is not the differences about the programme, but the degree of instant consensus.  In 1968, even in 1977, it was almost unthinkable that there would be so much common ground.  This is a Czech phenomenon.  But it is not just a Czech phenomenon, for in different ways it is repeated all over East Central Europe.  Take a more or less representative sample of politically aware persons.  Stir under pressure for two days.  And what do you get?  The same fundamental Western, European model:  parliamentary democracy, the rule of law, market economy…It is the idea of ‘normality’ that seems to be sweeping triumphantly across the world.”  Timothy Garton Ash, The Magic Lantern

“We march vicariously with people in trouble whoever they are; and we have our own parade…If we did not have our own parade, we could not march vicariously in Prague.  We would have no understanding at all of “truth” or “justice.”  Michael Walzer, Moral Minimalism

Assess Michael Walzer’s account of the universal-made-particular in light of our discussion and readings on the “end of the History” thesis.  Whose account (if any) do you find to be the most compelling and why?

Haiti’s current issue with mass graves sheds a crucial light into what happens when the deaths and murders of those around you are not dealt with, but rather ignored and systematically silenced. The pain that individiuals have felt do not subside once the event ‘comes to a close’ but rather lingers for decades after the murder has been committed. Even though it has been 24 years since the Rwandan Genocide, those who have survived the massacre as still making their way to these mass graves in hopes of somehow identifying their loved ones in the pile of dead bodies. In Argentina, the mothers of ‘los desaparecidos’ have been searching for the answer of their children and relatives’ whereabout for forty years now. In these cases, the priority is come to terms with the unknown, the mystery surrounding what happened. Although the main focus for the survivors has been to locate the missing, this does not detract from the necessity for punitive action against those who are in power. Without this punitive action or at least some attempt to convict former torturers, there is a greater possibility for a recurrence of mass slaughter. This is currently happening in Argentina with the centre-right President, Mauricio Macri questioned the legitimacy of statistics around the dictatorship, stating that he had no idea about the true count of fatalities, “whether they were 9,000 or 30,000.” The ability for current politicians to justify and question the authenticity of clear atrocities demonstrates how necessary it is for punitive action. Instead of possibly causing democratic instability, this punitive action would ensure that democratic backsliding would be impossible because the terrorism that Argentinians felt during the dictatorship wouldn’t just be overlooked and forgotten.

As countries transition from military dictatorship to democracy, there is the question of what to do with criminal officials who ordered both torture and murder. While in a perfect world they would be put on trial and imprisoned, it is rarely that simple. Generally many officials retain their position in the military during the transition. This means they have the power to end the process of democracy whenever they feel threatened. Perhaps the best example of this is in Uruguay. When the population voted on a referendum asking whether crimes of the former military dictatorship should be prosecuted, there was a general fear that the military would take the government back. This was fueled by the military’s ambiguous answers as to whether or not they would comply with the referendum.

Everyone can agree that former officials should be prosecuted for their former crimes. However, there are rarely systems that can handle this sort of pressure. Lawrence Weschler seems to struggle with this question throughout his book. He paints Uruguayan officials in a very negative light while also begrudgingly accepting what they have to say. Aiming for a democratic future is the best thing new officials can do to ensure the crimes of the past nothing happen again. Once a strong core is established, the question of punishment can be revisited when the threat to a democratic future disappears.

There is no “best” or “right” way to handle past injustices in a fledgling democracy. On the one hand, people, everyday citizens, committed heinous atrocities to other citizens. On the other, removing these people, who often hold positions of power, could result in the collapse of the a new, unstable democracy.

With this tradeoff in mind, I think it should be clear that removing said individuals immediately after the new democracy is formed is not the optimal strategy. Doing so would have a higher likelihood of bringing down that new democracy than waiting. Unfortunately, this leaves many citizens unsatisfied. However, it must be made clear to them that they would be considerably worse off in a failed state (again).

Instead, countries should, in the short term, make a concerted effort to publicize and remember their past atrocities. They cannot be protected and kept from the public – a strong state brandishes their past failures so that they are part of a history, a history to never be repeated. This can be done through memorial days centered around these injustices and direct compensation to affected families of such injustices.

Although it is not clear when this point would be or, frankly, how to recognize it, once the new state is strong enough, then remaining public figures that were part of the past atrocities should be removed. No life time positions (a la Pinochet) should ever be granted. Once removed, higher up individuals, not the “foot soldiers” following orders, should be prosecuted and punished. By doing this, more citizens can feel indirect catharsis and fewer people from the past regime, now part of the new society, can continue living.