A.
MOLOTKOV'S
LITERARY PROJECTS
A Recipe for the 21st Century
this article first appeared in a
Discord Aggregate Bulletin in May 2003
Patriotism is defined as “love and loyal or zealous support of one's country”. A fairly laconic definition, without a clear positive or negative connotation. But in our lives, we have been taught to assign an exclusively positive quality to the notion of patriotism. Yet, what is a “country”? A territory? A language? A cultural tradition? A people? A government? What if one experiences love and loyal support for the language and the cultural tradition, but not the government? What actions of such an individual may be considered patriotic?
Clearly, patriotism is a subjective term.
In my life, I have had the need and the opportunity to depatriotize myself. When I left Russia after the first 22 years of my life, I had to make a first step in that direction. Actually, maybe not. My first step had happened years earlier, when I started reading all those books by all those authors from all those places. It didn't matter what country they were from. And when it came time for me to become a writer, I found myself an heir of an international, and not specifically a Russian, artistic tradition. I became a patriot of art. I was proud of what Hemingway had done, and of Cortazar’s work as well. Both Antonioni and Tarkovsky deeply affected me. Rumi and Kafka became my friends. Dali and Coltrane shared their wisdom with me. I can honestly say: all artists of the past and the present are my compatriots.
This is only one person’s path away from patriotism – I’m certain there are other paths. Which one is yours?
After some years of reviewing these topics, I find patriotism to be a segregationist trait. Indeed, loving one’s own country implies loving it more than other countries – otherwise there is nothing to talk of. By perceiving oneself as part of a people, part of a nationality – instead of merely a human being – one risks to enter into the heavily politicized arena of international jealousy, pride and competition. If one is from Zungbaladeg, one may begin to feel that a Zungbaladegian life is more precious than a foreigner’s life.
Who benefits from that?
What else comes with the territory? The answer is right on the tip of your tongue: religion! Most commonly, your religion is defined by the beliefs of your parents, and thus, in turn, predominantly by the place of your birth. This would seem suspicious, wouldn't it? The geographical distribution of religions subjects whole nations to eternal damnation in the eyes of other nations. Maybe there are a few gods who decided to split up this planet? Yes, you guessed right: religion is another segregationist institution. Well, maybe not every religion. But the two most common ones are certainly, by in large, not very tolerant to their respective non-believers. (There is always some kind of eternal damnation in store for those who doubt, isn't there?)
Who benefits from that?
I guess it’s clear what I am getting at. At times when many questions are asked, just like right now, one must decide what they will be. At times when those who have something to say are advised to keep their mouths shut in the name of patriotism, one must redefine their views. One must choose their own version of patriotism, or discard any patriotism at all. Should we be bully patriots? Should we love the government? Should we allow the government to redefine what is right and wrong in the name of our safety? Should we assume that it is okay to kill people from another place and another religion? Should transparent financial manipulations on a planetary level be supported in the name of patriotism? Should the rest of the world be alienated and outraged by these questionable pursuits? Should those who disagree be punished? Would you like to experience fascism first-hand?
Who would benefit from that?
Yes, we are Zungbaladeg citizens, and Zungbaladeg is a pretty tough empire with a pretty tough, albeit a slightly comical emperor. But does it give us the right to redefine the rest of the sandbox? Is this the kind of lesson you would teach your children? It seems that the collective maturity on this planet is at the 5-year-old average. Aren't we ready for kindergarten yet? Haven't we all learned through countless examples that aggressive arrogance or docile mindlessness do not take us very far? Have we forgotten that we are all descendants of those smart dark-skinned people who were the first to decide that they were no longer apes? I think I can hear them laughing at us.
All things considered, I am ready to make the following observations:
(Children should be given a chance to make up their own mind.)
And as any self-proclaimed doctor should, I also have a remedy. This one is a really fitting prescription for the 21st century:
Are you ready to clean up the future?