The place of power



Chapter 3

How can one attain power without being a menace to other people? The first requirement is a deepening self-knowledge. When one knows one's own character, at least to some extent, one can begin to curb its excesses and even start to listen to other people rather than always dictate to them. But how does one listen to other people? If one were really honest about this, one seldom listens attentively until one recognizes one's own ignorance, then one can at least begin to learn. As one gains self-knowledge in this way, so one can enter more adequately into the lives of other people. This "empathy" is the first stage of power being shared with others, and mitigates its corrupting influence. The more one is in harmony with others, the more one sympathizes with their particular problems. There is fortunately in the depth of most of us a tendency to help (in addition to the more forcible proclivity to selfishness and acquiring everything for ourself). The more avidly we can empathize in a mutual way, the more the inner spark of love that burns in all of us begins to ignite into a flame, and then power ceases to be so much a corrupting influence as one which aims at helping other people in a non-attached way. I use the expression "non-attached" deliberately; it differs from mere detachment in that, while leaving the other person free, it does what it can to help, whereas pure detachment leaves the person alone and gets on with its own business.

One always has to be aware of the attraction of helping other people while there also burns inside a tendency to dominate them. How easy, and at the same time how enjoyable it is to insinuate oneself into other people's affairs! These are none of one's own business, but they do afford a diversion, interesting oneself in matters that help take one's mind off personal problems. The "Lady Bountiful" that lies in the hearts of many "do-gooders" gains its satisfaction by interfering, and at the same time, feeling radiant in the process of delivering others from difficulties and distress. If one is really unaware of one's own weakness, the satisfaction of this procedure is especially attractive when others speak well of one. If one has very little self-knowledge, one can easily relax in the warmth of other people's praise, only to discover in the end that one is becoming more increasingly a general nuisance. What should be a chorus of gratitude becomes a litany of rejection. I personally am always wary of people who donate large amounts of money to charities, because I, no doubt of a sceptical frame of mind, can so easily see the self-satisfaction that lies at the root of much charitable action. Does this, therefore, mean that I have no place for giving money in my life? I sincerely hope not, but I feel that the most valuable giving is of the whole person. One should give in such a way that the left hand does not know what the right hand bequeaths. As Jesus says: "Beware, when people speak well of you, for so they did also of the false prophets who preceded you" (Luke 6:26).

A great attraction of worldly power is its tendency to exalt the social position of the person who wields it. At one time this type of power was closely related to the wealth of the individual, but at present the remarkable reversal of so many social roles has made poverty also a focus of power. I speak here quite deliberately of political parties that emphasize their left-wing stance; this in itself is rather to be encouraged, for it is disgraceful that the poor should continue to be marginalized as they have been since time immemorial. No one who has visited a country such as India can be other than revolted at the stark poverty that confronts them even as they leave their luxurious hotel. The real criticism of the tendency to overcome at least some of the more flagrant abuses of wealth is that it has been accompanied by a language of rights. This again on its own is quite in order, but when rights begin to become important as a political issue it is necessary for them to be counterbalanced by the concept of responsibilities. The concept of the welfare state is a splendid ideal, but we need to remember the bears of North America, which expect handouts rather than having to seek their own survival in a harsh environment. The immediate benefits are obvious, but just as people cannot live on bread alone, but only on every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord (Deuteronomy 8:3), so material benefits are an indifferent means of sustenance until the person's inner constitution can cope with all the qualities of the life they are obliged to lead. On the other hand, there are many people in desperate straits who require immediate assistance - it is for such as these that a welfare state is an essential lifeline.

Power can be the attraction that leads to social eminence and personal corruption, or else it may be the way forward to a stronger, healthier person, more able to serve their community. Once again, this demonstrates the very ambivalent nature of power, but being what most of us are, we prefer the softer option. The end of this type of power, based on eminence and social position, cannot do other than lead to social conflict which will in due course culminate in enmity, rivalry and war. This, indeed, is the terrible consequence of power that is improperly used.

Closely allied to the social position engendered by power is personal status in the eyes of the world. This too is one of the products of wealth, stressing the close relationship of wealth to power; the emotional link is that of ambition, which may be defined as the ardent desire for distinction. This does not always have to be related to power on a social level; it can quite as easily be the end result of brilliance in the fields of the arts, the sciences and philosophy with its numerous variations. Quoting the words of Edward George Bulwer-Lytton,

Beneath the rule of men entirely great,
The pen is mightier than the sword.
       (Richelieu, II.ii)

This indicates that the power of the mind is the really dominating agent of important actions.

It was not merely the force behind the emancipation of slaves, but also the inspiration of numerous terrible actions in the realms of religion and politics. The most outstanding example in the twentieth century was the power that elevated an unknown man, Adolf Hitler, into one of the most appalling and destructive dictators in the history of the human race. The power wielded by Hitler was the ultimate basis of terrible genocide, which could not conceivably be repaired by the good deeds of many philanthropists. But if one were to leave the subject on that note, something vital would be missing: none of us is worth much on their own, but a really noble thought can inspire the lives of millions and set them on the right path. This is, in my opinion, the supreme achievement as well as vital necessity of greatness in the realms of art. What on the surface could be more frail than music, painting or literature? But when it strikes the right note, it can change the lives of many people. One can indeed understand the might of the pen in this way and the supreme responsibility that those with the gift of communication have in directing the uncivilized thoughts of so many "average people" from sheer self-satisfaction to aspiration on behalf of many others.

This, I believe, can be the only effective way to a real transformation of society from the unstable conflict of our present world into something at least vaguely reminiscent of the Utopia which all politicians canvass at the time of their election, but few, if any, are capable of producing when they have their brief term of office at the helm of power. Speeches, in other words, may be extremely convincing, but their promise is often short-lived; great thoughts, on the other hand, may remain in a smouldering phase for some time, but when they do ignite, an enormous conflagration may be the result, a result perhaps significant enough to change the course of history. In my opinion, the study of history finds its end in demonstrating the course of human nature over many centuries, and I am optimistic enough to believe with Julian of Norwich that all will be well in the end, even if I have to add the rider that the going can be pretty hard at times.

In the rather forbidding Parable of the Talents we read the dictum: "For everyone who has will be given more, till he has enough and to spare; and everyone who has nothing will forfeit even what he has" (Matthew 25:29). This statement applies to those who bury their innate gifts instead of sharing them with the whole community. This is, in fact, even more true of the ultimate end of the dictators of history - they emerge as flashes of lightning and after their brief, usually highly destructive, reign are summarily extinguished, whereas those who are beneficent and constructive burn steadfastly on until their time of recognition comes, when they influence an increasing number of people and are seen as the true heroes of the human race. Without their power they could have done nothing of value, and had that power been self-directed it would have emerged evil and distorted.

The truth is quite obvious; what we have is not our own property, but at the most we are guardians of it. We are admittedly not expected to give everything away and to starve, but our great work is to preserve our gifts and increase their scope, so that they may be left in an enriched state when we have departed this life for our own unknown future. In fact, if one has lived constructively, one's own end becomes increasingly unimportant to one, and it is the future of the whole human race that arrests our attention. No wonder many of the world's great religions, particularly those of the East, stress the importance of non-attachment to worldly things.

Power reaches its apogee when it gives of itself freely and lovingly to those around. Then it ceases to demonstrate its own strength, but instead rejoices in being able to identify with all those around it. If I, for instance, pride myself on some particular gift that I might have, I will simply take refuge from my true being in some peripheral quality that I may possess. This quality is bound to be challenged and superseded by those who come after me, and here I allude especially to the ageing process, which is a threat to the egoist, but a source of increasing relief to the person who has lived intelligently and given up their life for the concern of the whole community. It is indeed a wonderful thing to see an individual with power used rightly, for then so much good can come out of it. It ceases to be a means of protection of the self but rather expands to take under its wing all other people and, indeed, all life itself.

In our very warped world, one of the features of encouragement is what might be called the ecological revolution - that we are no longer creatures solely involved in our own survival, but it is our responsibility to embrace life in general. Then the brotherhood of all creation may be more than merely an elevating concept but a very urgent fact of life. The words of Jesus come to mind: "Come to me, all who are weary and whose load is heavy; I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble hearted; and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to wear, my load is light" (Matthew 11:28-9). The power of Jesus is recognized not so much by the miracles he performed or his courageous stance in the presence of the hypocritical religious leaders that challenged him, but even more so by his unafraid attitude that led to Gethsemane and the journey to Calvary. What impresses me particularly was his complete lack of resistance of any type. Jesus's final statement was "Father, forgive them; they do not know what they are doing" (Luke 23:34).

These thoughts occur again in the life of St Paul in his second letter to the Corinthians; after describing wonderful mystical experiences, he is brought sharply down to earth again by a mysterious illness which he calls a thorn in the flesh from Satan sent to buffet him. He begged three times to God to rid him of this malady, but the answer was "My grace is all you need; power is most fully seen in weakness". He was therefore happy to boast of his weakness, because then the power of Christ would rest upon him. So he was content with a life of weakness, insult, hardship, persecution and distress, all for Christ's sake. He finishes with the crucial deduction, "For when I am weak, then I am strong" (2 Corinthians 12:7-10).

This is the culmination of power well used, and it does not develop overnight. It follows the slow grind of life, full of disappointments and betrayal as well as personal triumph and happiness. The proper course of power is paradoxically enough its failure in terms of the expectations common to us all, and its end is not victory but submission, to which forgiveness is added. The person who can forget what they were in the world's eyes and how powerful at the height of their ascendancy is also the one whose life has been a blessing. This was undoubtedly the way of Christ, but we lesser beings need not be completely abashed by its nobility; each of our lives has its own tragedy, and to be able to surmount this is the real victory of life over death. I have always suspected that we all have our own individual destiny to fulfil, and it seldom becomes easier as it moves towards its end. But, if we persist with unfailing trust, we will not end disappointed.

In a very paradoxical way, happiness comes to us when we have disposed freely of our possessions, the greatest of which is our own personality. When we have made ourselves fully available to our neighbour and to God, becoming nothing in the process, then at last we begin to live. This is stated thus in the form of Jesus' paradox: "Whoever gains his life will lose it; whoever loses his life for my sake will gain it" (Matthew l0:39). This applies, of course, primarily to Jesus, but his life as the life of God, is projected into all our lives so therefore we should always love our neighbour as ourself. This is the second of Jesus' two great commandments.

Knowing oneself

Self-knowledge is a life-long process. It starts on a starkly egoistical basis during early childhood, but soon we have to learn that other people around us not only have their own concerns but also react to us in their own particular fashion. In this way we are steadily nurtured from a selfish view that we are the centre of the universe to the infinitely more realistic understanding that we are merely tiny portions of an ever-expanding world which is destined to continue long after we have passed away. Yet in the very fact of our frailty and the evanescence of life itself lies our own unique contribution - not in strength but so much more in our mortal weakness. Not infrequently when we appear at our most trivial, our significance stands out to those near us, because then, at that very moment, we can fully and spontaneously empathize with the other person.

This is also our moment of full self-knowledge, which is something quite apart from the persona we present, or would like to present, to the world. To know oneself as a genuine person entails the casting off of superficial masks that we enjoy exhibiting, such as intellectual ability, social eminence, artistic skill or our physical appearance, and instead revealing ourselves naked to the world. It means discarding all social distinctions and political prejudices, so that we can face whatever circumstance may confront us directly and without embarrassment. Then the quality of one's antecedents or even one's own past history, whether creditable or disgusting, ceases to matter.

This is how we may glimpse something of the love of God, that we are treasured for what we are, and that the special use we make of this is of only secondary importance. This is what it means to know oneself truly. Once this has been given to one, all previous short-comings are simply things of the past. One's repentance has in fact been effected by one's previous openness to the truth of one's own character. This has been the vital purge preceding the essential self-knowledge that alone can make power a safe possession. When one no longer desires it, it never leaves one and furthermore it pours out gratuitously to all and sundry who may come to one for help day by day.


Chapter 4
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