Featuring: On the Being with Hands and Mind Freedom

A Journal ofGeorgetown University’s

Tocqueville Forum on theRoots of American Democracy

VOLUME 4 ISSUE 1 FALL 2010

Featuring:

On the Being with Hands and Mind

Freedom, Suffering, and Realism in Dante

“A Losing Battle:” A Conversationwith George W. Carey

Also:

Traditionalism and Libertarianism: A Fusion of Convenience

Fair Play and Political Obligation

The Globalization of the Cold War

Social Justice and the Liturgy

A Feeling of Foreboding

The Passion of Lacking All Conviction

“God for Harry! England and Saint George!” AReview of Shakespeare’s Richard II and Henry V

“If From the Public Way You Turn Your Steps...” A Review of Michael: A Pastoral Poem

To Yearn, To Wonder, To Love: A Review of Lettersto a Young Poet, by Rainer Maria Rilke

Georgetown University, the “Kernel” of StudentActivism in the 1960s and 1970s

Eloquence in Defense of Liberty: A History of the Philodemic Society, 1830-1865

Cultivating Virtue at Georgetown

A More Perfect University

Georgetown University Tocqueville Forum

UTR

AQ

UE U

NU

MV

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ME 4 ISSU

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A Journal of

Georgetown University’s

Tocqueville Forum on the

Roots of American Democracy

Volume 4

Issue 1

Fall 2010

Editor-in-ChiefCollan Rosier

Managing EditorStephen Wu

Section EditorsJeffrey Long (The Forum)Jay Sykes (The Chamber)Emily Merki (The Sanctuary)Matthew Cantirino (The Parlor)Erika Barger (The Cellar)Matthew McKillip (The Observatory)

Graduate AssistantsJonathan SilverJames Poulos

Utraque UnumGeorgetown University’s seal is based directly on the Great Seal of the United States ofAmerica. Instead of an olive branch and arrows in the American eagle’s right and left talons,Georgetown’s eagle is clutching a globe and calipers in its right talon and a cross in its lefttalon. The American seal’s eagle holds a banner in its beak that states, E Pluribus Unum, or“Out of Many, One,” in reference to the many different people and states creating a union.The Georgetown seal’s eagle holds a banner in its beak that states, Utraque Unum.

As the official motto of Georgetown University, Utraque Unum is often translated as “BothOne” or “Both and One” and is taken from Paul’s epistle to the Ephesians. This motto isfound in a Latin translation of Ephesians 2:14: ipse est enim pax nostra qui fecit utraque unum.The King James Version of the Bible says, “For He [Christ] is our peace, who hath madeboth one.” Utraque Unum is the Latin phrase to describe Paul’s concept of unity betweenJews and Gentiles; that through Jesus Christ both are one.

In view of the Georgetown seal, the motto represents pursuing knowledge of the earthly(the world and calipers) and the spiritual (the cross). Faith and reason should not be exclu-sive. In unity faith and reason enhance the pursuit of knowledge.

Acknowledgments:

The publication of Utraque Unum was made possible by the generoussupport of Bill Mumma, Georgetown University Edmund A. WalshSchool of Foreign Service Class of 1981, as well as the CollegiateNetwork. The Tocqueville Forum on the Roots of AmericanDemocracy additionally wishes to acknowledge the generous supportof The Veritas Fund as administered by the Manhattan Institute, theThomas W. Smith Foundation, the Intercollegiate Studies Institute, andthe Jack Miller Center.

The Tocqueville Forum promotes events and activities devoted to fur-thering and deepening student understanding of the American consti-tutional order and its roots in the Western philosophical and religioustraditions. The Tocqueville Forum sponsors these activities solelythrough the contributions of generous supporters of its mission. If youwould like further information about supporting the TocquevilleForum, please e-mail [email protected] or visithttp://government.georgetown.edu/tocquevilleforum.

As always, we welcome your thoughts and comments regarding thisjournal. If you are or once were a Georgetown University student, pro-fessor or staff member we would welcome the opportunity to reviewyour work for publication in Utraque Unum. In addition to writers, weare looking for section editors, artists, graphic designers and webdesigners. Please e-mail the editors at [email protected] forthese inquiries.

Utraque Unum — Fall 2010 a iii

Utraque Unum — Fall 2010 a 1

a Utraque Unum Fall 2010 Volume 4 Issue 1

Table of ContentsFrom the Editor-in-Chief .................................................................................................................................3

About The Tocqueville ForumPolitics as Manners and Morals, by Professor Patrick Deneen ...............................................................5

The Forum (Featured Articles)On The Being With Hands and Mind, by Father James V. Schall, S. J. .................................................7

Freedom, Suffering, and Realism in Dante, by Alexander J. Kritikos .................................................15

“A Losing Battle:” A Conversation with George W. Carey, by Stephen Wu.....................................19

The Chamber (Articles on Law and Politics)Traditionalism and Libertarianism: A Fusion of Convenience, by Christopher P. Tosetti ...............23

Fair Play and Political Obligation, by Jay Sykes ...................................................................................27

The Globalization of the Cold War: Communist Containment and Economic Rebuilding of Western Europe and Japan, by Loghman Fattahi.......................................31

The Sanctuary (Articles on Religion)Social Justice and the Liturgy: Inspirations, Ideas and the Legacy of Virgil Michel, by Natalie Punchak .........................................................................................38

A Feeling of Foreboding: Nietzsche and the Consequences of Morality, by Justin R. Hawkins.................................................................................................................44

The Passion of Lacking All Conviction: Secularism in Europe in the New Millennium, by Karl O’Hanlon ...........................................................................................50

The Parlor (Reviews of Books, Movies, Music, and Plays)“God for Harry! England and Saint George!” A Review of Shakespeare’s Richard II and Henry V, by Michael Fischer.............................................................................................53

“If From the Public Way You Turn Your Steps...” A Review of Michael: A Pastoral Poem, by William Wordsworth, by Matthew McKillip .......................................................55

To Yearn, To Wonder, To Love: A Review of Letters to a Young Poet, by Rainer Maria Rilke, by Kate Bermingham .........................................................................................58

The Cellar (Scholarship related to Georgetown University)Georgetown University, the “Kernel” of Student Activism in the 1960s and 1970s, by Sye Myung Kim ......................................................................................................60

“Eloquence in Defense of Liberty: A History of the Philodemic Society, 1830-1865.” By Emma Green .................................................................................64

The Observatory (Reflections related to Georgetown University)Cultivating Virtue at Georgetown, by Eric Wind .................................................................................68

A More Perfect University, by Timothy Tsai ..........................................................................................70

The Editor’s DeskDear Readers,

With a new fall comes a new school year. As the new editor-in-chief of this journal, I am very

excited to follow in the footsteps of my predecessors and continue their success providing a forum

for students to discuss the great questions. I must thank Scott Gray, the outgoing editor, for all of his

work and for all of our discussions while putting last year’s journal together.

On college campuses, constant change is often the norm. New classes, new students and, often,

new professors create the novelty of each new school year. In the face of all of this, there is often an

urge for something more permanent and familiar. Within the pages of this journal, you will see evi-

dence of continuity in a rapidly changing world, both in the people honored and ideas presented.

As always, we feature an engaging and thought-provoking essay by Father James Schall that

reminds us of the uniqueness of humanity’s ability to comprehend and contemplate the things

around us in order to find a purpose. While the majority of us will not and should not be philoso-

phers, that does not stop us from being able to ponder.

Also featured is an article based on an interview done with Government Professor George Carey,

the winner of the 2010 Rev. James V. Schall Award for Teaching and Humane Letters. The article dis-

cusses the changes Professor Carey has seen in his nearly fifty years on the Hilltop. In the correspon-

ding lecture following the award presentation, Professor Carey discussed the continuity and change

embodied by the U.S. Constitution and the crisis that has arisen due to more activist interpretations

of the document. Seeing both men in the same room together was a rare privilege and reminds us of

what a liberal arts education should be: a journey to understand from where we came and to learn

about the permanent things in life. Our purpose is to search for continuity in an ever more hyperac-

tive and transient culture that is fast losing grip on itself.

One way to find this continuity is through good literature, the value of which is lost on many col-

lege students today. The value of great literature is to be entertaining while having eternal lessons

revealed to us. This summer I began an infatuation with the late American author Kurt Vonnegut.

In a testament to the value of the liberal arts, this literature caused me to reevaluate the inherent

value of human dignity. Samuel Johnson once said that “People need to be reminded more often

than they need to be instructed.” Two of Vonnegut’s works in particular are especially valuable in

a Utraque Unum


an age when progressivism in science—a limited but important benefit—leads to progressivism of

spirit; a dangerous and deadly proposition. In Cat’s Cradle, the product of science, “ice-nine”, has the

potential to destroy the world when left in the hands of flawed human beings. In Player Piano, the

world suffers an arguably worse fate: the humans remain but they are stripped of their humanity

and their dignity by the unceasing and unquestioned march of efficiency, technology and progress.

Like Vonnegut, this journal hopes to remind people that there are things more important than

progress for the sake of progress.

While it would be foolish to want to return to a past time, we must always be cognizant of the

hard-fought lessons of our ancestors and their relevance today. The namesake of our parent organi-

zation, Alexis de Tocqueville, grasps the danger posed by modern societies in the beginning of

Volume II of Democracy in America. “The continuous activity which prevails in a democratic society

leads to the relaxation or the breaking of the links between generations. It is easy for a man to lose

track of his ancestors’ conceptions or not to bother about them.” This frenzy that we all feel in our

lives for new things is not inherently bad, but we must always remain aware that there are some

things worth holding onto. If the authors of the pieces in this issue have done their jobs—and I

believe they have—then you will have seen at least a glimpse of the permanent things and the value

of continuity. If at least one new person’s eyes have been opened to the rich and wonderful history

of both this university and this country, and their respective origins, we have unearthed true

progress and you will have begun real education.

Sincerely,

Collan B. RosierEditor-in-Chief

Utraque Unum a

4 a Utraque Unum — Fall 2010

Politics as Manners and Morals

Patrick J. Deneen

T he “Tocqueville Forum” is a programwithin the Department of Governmentat Georgetown. This would indicate

that the program is focused primarily uponissues dealing with politics, policy, or publicaffairs. Yet, a glance at our programming inrecent years may lead some to conclude that theprogram has been miscategorized. Among thetopics we have explored are religion, education,economics, literature, “society,” philosophy andlaw. It would appear that we have not appropri-ately limited ourselves to our designated field.

Such a conclusion would reflect a too-con-temporary view of “politics” as concerned sole-ly or exclusively with things pertaining to gov-ernment. In the classical understanding – onefirst articulated by Aristotle – politics is the“master science,” the science that governs anddraws from all other sciences that pertain toquestions of how humans live together. Politicsis not merely about policy; etymologically, poli-tics is also related to “polite” (or, in the Latinequivalent, “civil” is related to “civility”), thussuggesting that there is an intimate relationshipbetween the grand questions of government andthe modest but essential ways we relate person-to-person. “Manners and morals” – to use termsthat are not very popular today – are as relevantto “politics” as are questions of great constitu-tional moment. Indeed – it could be argued thata society that shares well-grounded “mannersand morals” is one that needs to turn less to theoffices of formal law and politics for guidance

on how we are to live together. Aristotle pointedout additionally that where there is a highdegree of civic friendship, one can expect fewerlawsuits and the need for public intervention inthe lives of citizens.

Too often today there is a belief among peo-ple of varying political perspectives that the keyto ensuring the success of their viewpoint isthrough the auspice of electoral victory. Webemoan the polarization of political life inAmerica today, but it’s likely that the society isso politically riven because we invest so manyof our hopes in the narrow realm of “politics.”At the same time, “manners and morals” seemto be a neglected step-child of our political dis-course, believed to be wholly “private” con-cerns, irrelevant in contemporary debates. Thusneglected, we see by are not sufficiently con-cerned for their daily erosion by a coarsenedculture, particularly their portrayal on our pop-ular media.

It is our belief that the beginning of a properunderstanding of “politics” includes and high-lights the relationship of “government” and“politeness,” of “policy” and “civility.” Asunderstood by the ancients, “self-government”is required both of individuals and the polity asa whole; lacking one, the other will surely fail. Ifwe see today what appear to be breakdowns of“self-government” at the level of government,then we should not be surprised to see a corre-sponding breakdown in levels of civility andpoliteness among citizens. One cannot be


ABOUT THE TOCQUEVILLE FORUM

repaired without the other. For “politics” to behealthful, the cultivation of civility and polite-ness must be a central concern. For that reason,a far more encompassing understanding of “pol-itics” is necessary – one that is advanced andencouraged on the Georgetown campus throughthe auspice of the Tocqueville Forum.

Patrick J. Deneen is a professor in the GeorgetownUniversity Department of Government and foundingdirector of the Tocqueville Forum on the Roots ofAmerican Democracy.

Politics as Manners and Morals a


On The Being With Hands and Mind

James V. Schall, S.J.

I.In reading both Aristotle and St. Thomas,we find a unique definition of man. He isthe one being in the universe “with mind

and hands.” Even though Psalm 118 speaksmetaphorically of “the Lord’s right hand,” thegods are beings with minds but not hands.Animals can have hands or claws but not mindalong with them. In man, mind and handsbelong together in the same being for its end. Allparts are ordered to the purpose of the whole.The internal ordering of the various sensorypowers to each other points in turn to mind astheir purpose. Hands reflect mind. Mind getsinto the world through hands. Hands make it

possible, through craft and art, so that what itknows can take actual physical shape in theworld of things. Hands make tools that extendboth hands and mind.

No one can play a trumpet, a lute, a harp, atimbrel, or make cymbals clash without hands.And if he just had hands, man would not knowhow to fit or weave the sounds together tobecome one harmonious, unified piece of music.One dances mostly with his feet, but it is thesame point. The definition could just as well read“Man is that being in the universe with handsand feet.” The feet make local motion possible.They enable a man with the sensory powers to


THE FORUM

“Praise him with trumpet sound; praise him with lute and harp!

Praise him with timbrel and dance; praise him with strings and

pipe! Praise him with sounding cymbals; praise him with loud

clashing cymbals!”

— Psalm 150:3-5.

“But we exhort you, brethren, to do so (love one another) more

and more, to aspire to live quietly, to mind your own affairs, and

to work with your hands, as we charged you; so that you may

demand the respect of outsiders, and be dependent on nobody.”

— St. Paul, 1 Thessalonians, 4:10-12.

“Idleness is the enemy of the soul; and therefore the brethren

ought to be employed in manual labor at certain times of the day,

at other times in devout reading.”

— Rule of St. Benedict, Ch. 48.

THE FORUM

“look at,” “hear,” “smell,” “taste” or “touch” bet-ter what exists around him. He can climb stairs,run to the store, and jump-shoot baskets.

This definition gives a remarkable insightinto our being when we spell it out. First, itstates a fact, namely, that the human being isendowed from nature with both a mind andhands. Secondly, both belong together, eventhough they have different functions or purpos-es. They are divided that they be united. “Howdid they get that way?” we wonder. The hand ashand does not think. The hand’s motions takeplace outside of mind. The mind as mind doesnot play the fiddle. Neither mind nor hand iscomplete without the other. Moreover, this“belonging together” was already there. Nohuman agency plotted out their coordination.They worked together from their very begin-nings though habits needed to be acquired andexperience gained of how to do things easily.

When the hand touches something or eyesees the same thing, the mind judges what it isthat same thing being touched and seen. It thenestimates what, if anything, to do with what ittouches. It would not make this estimate if thehand provided no reliable information to themind. The hand in turn rested on or graspedsomething not itself. We have bodies thatenable us to smell, see, taste, hear, and touch sothat the things that exist outside of us may bealso brought inside of us without changingwhat they are in themselves. The nature ofknowledge is itself to change the knower, notthe thing known.

The things of the world, moreover, are notcomplete until we know what they are. Theybear their own unique reality that itself revealsintelligence, but an intelligence to be furtherknown to be complete. We need to name thethings that are. On the basis of knowing andnaming particular existing things, a generalunderstanding arises that we can act on thingsnot ourselves for our purposes. We can only dothis because they are first what they are and so

identified. Through the human mind, we find a“man-centeredness” about what is not man.Many wild things grow without man. Gardensand farms make us realize that many things areeven better with him. In principle, the worldminus mind is useless because it is unintelligible.

II.We are to know things, contemplate them,but we are not to be “idle,” as Paul tells us.

As a cure to possible idleness, St. Benedict, in hisRule, tells us to work with our hands, which isanother way of telling us to be what we are. Butworking with our hands just to be working withour hands can itself be drudgery, even anotherform of idleness, even slavery. “Twiddling ourthumbs,” it is sometimes called. Our work has tobe “for” something, not just its own motions.

Aristotle said that things without purposewere “in vain.” This observation also applies tothe things made by man’s work. Homo faber, manthe carpenter, was not just occupied in cuttingup boards to pass the time of day. The carpentercut them in a certain way, at an angle, in whichthey would fit together. The boards were of dif-ferent sizes and shapes. Some wood was betterthan others for the immediate purpose in thisartifact to be made. Even sawdust came to beuseful and itself a resource. In this sense, theoccupation of St. Joseph has more philosophicgrounding than we might at first expect.

Yves Simon somewhere proposed the follow-ing situation: Suppose we employ a man foreight hours a day. We pay him a huge wage,plus, vacations, benefits, and retirement. For therest of his life, all he has to do is to dig a mean-ingless hole six by six by six. On completing thefirst digging, we pay him. Next we pay him tofill it up again. We then repeat the process andpayment again and again. The result will be thatthe man will soon go mad. We simply cannot dosuch senseless things.

The laborer has to sense that what he does,however relatively unimportant, means some-thing, contributes something to the whole. If we

On The Being With Hands and Mind a


dig a hole, it should be for a building founda-tion, water drainage, or a grave. The point is thatwe do not work just for the sake of work. Wework in order that we might make something, ordo something that has purpose. At our best, wewant to make or do what we do well. Intrinsic toeverything we do or make we find a certain con-crete drive to do it well. Chesterton said that “ifa thing is worth doing, it is worth doing badly.”Without this paradoxical principle, we could notbegin to do anything. Most things we do need tobe done, even if done poorly or imperfectly. Yet,we want to do them well and admire what weknow to be well done or well made.

All “full employment” rhetoric suffers fromthis suspicion that no real purpose lies in thework itself. People paid to do nothing are cor-rupted. The working man is only worthy of his“hire” if what he does means something ofvalue. John Paul II used to say the most impor-tant thing about “work” was the dignity of theworker. While this grounding may be true, wecannot avoid the fact that the worker himselfand the economy in which he works must thinkthat he is doing meaningful work, somethingworthwhile doing for pay or generosity. Heought not to be paid no matter what he does.

We too often speak of “full employment”without speaking of employment for what. Thehistory of labor is filled with stories of govern-ments who put men to work in war, in make-work projects, to keep them exhausted. EvenMoses had to deal with this sort of thing. ThePharaoh who was concerned that the Hebrewswere growing too strong. So the Egyptian rulermade them work harder and harder with lessand less time and materials, with more punish-ment if they slacked off. But what the Hebrewsbuild was obviously something useful to theEgyptians, however forced the labor.

Moreover, shoddy work or inexpert workplays a basic role in judging the worker. “Anhonest day’s work for an honest day’s pay” is afamiliar slogan. The worker ought not to be able

to demand his pay if he produces an inferiorproduct, or cheats, or does not learn to do anhonest or accurate job. Workers are “worthy” oftheir hire only when what they produce is itselfworthy of purchase. The worker and his workare connected. Are they who grow poppies andwork them over for the drug trade “worthy”workers at whatever pay? To make it otherwiseevaporates the work done of all significance inrelation to the worker.

One unnoted aspect of the history of moderncommunism and socialism seems to be that ofthe demoralization of the work force throughworking and being supported for things thatwere not worth having or that do not functionproperly. Socialist economies have always beennotorious for keeping in existence, in the nameof employment, enterprises that should havebeen closed in the name of inefficiency. Thewhole point of competition in economics is toprovide an on-going corrective to this danger. Itis of the nature of work that other people canalso learn to do them, and often do them betterthan we can do them. This is not a bad thing inprinciple. It is one that creates a certaindynamism in economic society.

Yet, the term “idle” has two meanings. St.Benedict used it to depict a kind of aimlessness,a mind open to temptation and disorder becauseit was largely empty and unoccupied. Cicero, onthe other hand, said that he was never “less idle”than when he had “nothing to do.” Idleness canmean lack of attention to the activity of themind. But it can also point to the contemplativeorder.1 It can mean beyond the necessity ordesire to work. A time comes when our needsare sufficiently provided for us. What do we“make” or “do” then? The answer is: we do ormake nothing. That is, “doing” refers to ourmoral activities. We do not exist for our moralactivities alone. “Making” refers to our capacityto use our minds to put something into theworld. These are both good and human quali-ties. They are essential to our whole being.

a James V. Schall, S.J.


Yet these powers in the human whole exist inturn that man’s highest power may function as itis intended. That is, as free to know what is. It isat this point unimpeded by some urge to do ormake something. They at this point are distrac-tions from the clarity that is needed to think.And thinking means thinking on the highestthings about which we are given, their originsand purposes. Our thinking, like our makingand doing, can be inadequate or wrong.Thinking itself is not for thinking’s sake but forthinking the truth of what we have before usthrough our senses or our minds.

But our human perfection does include thedoing and the making. A famous scene in theGospels tells us of Martha’s impatience with hersister Mary’s not pitching in to help her out withserving the guests. The Lord tells her that she isbusy about “many things,” but that Mary haschosen the “better part.” Yet, it would be wrongto conclude from this scene that what Marthawas doing was either unnecessary or unimpor-tant. Martha, in fact, showed herself to be quitea perceptive lady when she was asked about theresurrection (John 11:24). The whole essence ofthe Christian Gospels is not directed merely tocontemplation and truth but, through it, toaction and to deeds, to cups of water and hospi-tality to strangers.

III.Thus, St. Paul tells us to live quietly andto work with our hands. Evidently,

working with our hands does not militateagainst our living quietly in this world, but ispart of it. Indeed, the two seem to go together.This situation is not far from Aristotle’s praise ofa “middle-class” polity. Ordinary things need tobe done, often daily, hourly. We work, moreover,to merit respect from “outsiders.” We are to bedependent on no one. Laziness is not a virtue.This admonition does not advocate rugged indi-vidualism. It does advocate doing what ournature directs us to do.

We recognize that we are not to live our lives

as if everything is “owed” to us, as if we are allvictims of our own unwillingness to do what wenormally can for ourselves and for our homes.We do not command the respect of outsiders ifeverything about us is slovenly and ill-kept. Weare to pride ourselves in the fact that we can dothe basic things, manage our own affairs.Civilization consists in its quiet allowing of mostpeople to do the most important things them-selves and having the means to do so. That thishappy situation may arise, we need contempla-tion and action, mind and hands.

The dignity of one’s own affairs is but anoth-er way of illustrating Aristotle’s notion of artand craft, of practical intellect. We have not onlythe power to think but also the power to makethings. The principle of subsidiarity affirms thatwe should leave things to be done to those whocan do them. This capacity to make things lies atthe origin of technology and the crafts. It is theextension of our minds into the world throughour hands. A natural correlation, moreover,exists between the world and our own good. Weare to improve the world in the process of devel-oping ourselves. Modern ecological movementsoften seem to set man against earth as if man issimply an intruder in the cosmos rather thansomeone whose presence is necessary for itsfinal purpose.

Disorders in men’s souls, to be sure, do resultin disorders in things. Psalm 115 touched on thisissue: “But our God is in the heavens; he doeswhatever he wills. Their (pagan or Hebrew) idolsare silver and gold; the work of human hands.”Here, be it noted, the “work of human hands” isnot praised. Human hands thus can and do pro-duce idols as well as works of beauty and utilityordered to noble ends. Behind the idol, of course,is the notion that the power of making can beused against man’s own dignity. Whether theidol be a golden calf or a political kingdom, theeffect is the same. Through his action or his craft,man can set up his own gods that signify anorder of being not based on the truth he finds in



reality, an order which he is to bring forth intothe world in what he does and makes.

This theme that the works of man’s hands canbe used against the human good has long been aconcern of philosophers. Philosophers werethought by the common folks to be so impracti-cal that they could not even tie the laces of theirown shoes. Philosophers tried to prove theopposite by showing that their knowledgeenabled them to establish monopolies and makefortunes if they wanted. They, however, did notwant or need many things. Classical thoughtalso understood that the philosopher, the man ofthought, was potentially a danger to existingcities. This was the drama that swirled aroundthe philosopher Socrates, who urged the citizensto the practice of virtue.

Of course, the idols are usually in the employof the thinkers and the craftsmen who indicatewhat they are and who make them. Art differsfrom prudence because one can be a morally badman and still be a good artist or craftsman. Butno one can violate the rules of ethics or politicsand remain a good man. Yet, cities tell us whatthey are by what is built in them, by what politi-cians symbolize in the city’s monuments. Thecraftsmen build the buildings and monumentsaccording to what the city wants to say of itself.Politics erects tombs and statues to tell us what itthinks worthy. The preservation of the polity is aworthy cause, but both tyrants and kings striveto preserve their rule. To preserve a corruptregime is itself corrupting, unless, as Aristotleimplied, it is preserved against something worse.

What about “education?” Craftsmen havelong learned by doing. They are “trained” if nec-essary as apprentices, journeymen, and masters,but not “educated.” No city can be a city ofphilosophers alone and still be a city. Wide vari-eties of skills and things need to be present, asPlato noted in the second book of the Republic.We still have remnants of the medieval notion ofa “guild” in which crafts are learned graduallyuntil one reached master-craftsmanship. The

medical profession is like this. Skilled workersand ordinary laborers do learn something veryconcretely both about the things they work with,about the people who need what they do, andabout the virtues and vices of those they workwith and sell to. In other words, they see humannature in action.

A long debate, which is surfacing again, isabout whether education in the highest thing isonly for the few. Or put differently, when aca-demic education is given to the many, does itprevent most people from learning in other,more practical ways? As several recent authorshave shown, much can be learned by the repairand upkeep of one’s motorcycle. Joseph Pieperremarks, however, that, in every city, we shouldfind those whose vocation it is to transcend thecity, to devote their lives to the most importantthing which is not the city. No city is safe thatdoes not have at least some who are not spend-ing their entire lives on practical things. TheChurch has always made this point in its treat-ment of Martha and Mary. Both were necessary,Mary chose the “higher part.”

Earlier writers, like Eric Gill and the distrib-utists and more recent ones like Allan Carlsonand Wendell Berry, appreciate the classic virtuesof farm life. Many today begin to wonder about“education” and about ways to wisdom otherthan the “degree” way. Matthew Crawfordrecently wrote:

High-school shop-class programs werewidely dismantled in the 1990’s as educa-tors prepared students to become ‘knowl-edge workers.’ The imperative of the lasttwenty years to round up every warmbody and send it to college, then to the(office) cubicle, was tied to a vision of thefuture in which we somehow take leave ofmaterial reality and glide about in a pureinformation economy. This has not come topass. To begin with, such work often feelsmore enervative than gliding. More funda-mentally, now as ever, somebody has to





actually do things: fix our cars, unclog ourtoilets, build our houses.2

This passage raises the question of whetherevery one should go to college and, if not, is hedeprived of access to the highest human things?These concerns are often voiced with an aware-ness of the moral and ideological disordersfound in academia today.

Aristotle himself was remarkable in that heunderstood that philosophy was a way of life,not simply an academic discipline. The wise, asSt. Paul intimated, could often be quite “fool-ish.” Aristotle, for his part, recognized that thesource of philosophy is not books or in whatphilosophers say, but what could be seen in thebeing of things, including human things andthat to which all things pointed. In other words,unlearned or ordinarily educated people couldknow, what human living was about, how itought to be lived. They could learn from theirown experience, or acquaintance with others, orfrom reading or, as in Plato, from tales. Just asthe supposedly wise could be foolish, so theordinary could know the basics of the greatthings. Both the learned and the ordinary need-ed virtue to approach the highest things, virtueand openness to grace.

Modern hopes in liberal education, no doubt,have presupposed a kind of aristocracy of themasses. Modern state educational systems werepremised on the fact that everyone should havean opportunity to learn all he can. There is a cer-tain embarrassment in the fact that some arebrighter than others. The question of the exis-tence of a hierarchy of things better to know wasdicier.

Aristotle’s “polity,” his “democratic” form ofthe regime that rules for the good of all, recog-nized the advantage also of having aristocraticand monarchical elements. Plato had warnedthat from a democracy, we were likely to get a“leader” who would be a tyrant of the worstkind, the one who looked only to his own good

in all things that involved others. It is difficult toshow that educated societies are immune fromthe arrivals of tyrants among them.

Crawford’s concern about an education thatputs everyone in college, often to their owndetriment, along with the rise of interest in prac-tical education, is worth looking at. The move-ment to put colleges on-line in some form orother whereby the student never actually has tobe present in an actual class or universitygrounds is well under way. Many practical disci-plines and crafts can effectively be put on-line.The very putting on-line is something of a craftwith many different talents employed in itsinvention, construction, upkeep, and distribu-tion. Many people today receive all or part oftheir education on-line. These on-line topics aremore often practical subjects. Yet, most of the“great books” are already on-line.

In many countries, military service of a yearor so is still required of young men and oftennow of young women. This service almostalways involves a combination of personal disci-pline and practical knowledge from kitchenduty to shooting guns. Most colleges today,moreover, provide programs whereby, on grad-uation, students can volunteer for various localor overseas works of aid and service to the poor.These programs can easily become politicizedbut at bottom they are often a revitalization ofthe charitable and benevolent overtones of west-ern culture. They recognize that a complete edu-cation involves more than academic discipline.

Eric Greitens, a graduate of Duke University,spent his time in Rwanda, an eye-opening expe-rience for him in one of the world’s most trou-bled lands. He wrote in the Key Reporter: “It isthrough service to others that we often learnhow ideas can shape the word, yet we hardlythink about service or service-learning as a for-mal part of the liberal arts education.”3 In hisstudy of Strauss and Voegelin on the Bible, JohnRanieri made much the same point about the



presence of this practical endeavor actually tohelp others that exists within the often unac-knowledged religious heritage of the culture.4

Classically “workingman’s” jobs, like carpen-try or auto repair, now require a high level oftechnical knowledge and practical good sense.They also require experience not only of thetrade itself but of how it fits into an economy.The tendency in unions is often to protect jobsfrom non-union workers or from seeing the verywork itself sent overseas because of the costli-ness of labor. This latter phenomenon has beenthe story of much modern craft tradition, thoughthe gaining what was lost in one countrybecomes the basis of work and wealth in anoth-er. Labor becomes a cost that cannot be afforded.This issue is partly related to Plato’s ungoverneddesire that motivates many people to want morefor its own sake and not for what is needed.Other workers can produce the same or betterproducts with less income and more skill. Thisresult goes back to what I said earlier about thework and the worker.

St. Benedict in his Rule advocated workingwith one’s hands for some of the day and“devout reading” for some other time of day.The order of the day was a prudentiallydesigned balance between work and reading.The proportion of work and study will no doubtvary from one person to another, from one placeor time to another. In modern times, we alsohave between “work” and “reading” what wascalled, even in the classics, sports or hobbies.These latter have their own justifications in Platoand Aristotle.5 They are not seen as opposedwork or study. They are closer to contemplation.One cannot help but notice today in almost anycity the amount of running that goes on. Oftenthis running, or other sports exercises, is acounter to a work or study life that allows for lit-tle physical exercise. But the whole range ofmoral life is also displayed in sports, as it is inwork or even in study.

It is well-known that one hardly ever has abad meal in Italy. This happy result is in partbecause nothing is eaten unless it is fresh, butalso because cooking is still considered a highcraft if not a fine art even in the humblest of fam-ilies. This cuisine will require farms and laborthat can still produce quality foods. It requires atradition of cookery. In America, it is possible toget beautiful looking fruits and vegetables allyear round, but they are seldom fresh or ripe asin Italy. The earlier American tradition of thehome garden in which such items were pro-duced is practically non-existent. It is said thatAmericans watch the TV cooking channels butdo not themselves cook actual meals.

Wendell Berry proposes the restoration ofsome personal agriculture on a wide scale. Heenvisions this as possible if there are local mar-kets and demand. We do see “Farmers’Markets” in almost every city today that seeks tofoster this type of work and production. Thepeople who grow or can or bake such items dis-play a certain kind of practical wisdom that isnot so prevalent in the mass produced farms andfood processing companies. Many see therestoration of the family and children to be relat-ed to this notion of practically restoring thingslike cooking, gardens, and home schooling.

What I wish to suggests, in conclusion, is thatthose who work with their hands are not, forthat reason, necessarily deprived of access toman’s higher wisdom. In fact, the practical wayof knowing is essential for the balance of thewhole man. The point to be made is not merelythat we can learn a certain wisdom from practi-cal doing and making, but that this experience isitself necessary to enabling us also to have a the-oretical life.

Aristotle suggested that one of the principalreasons for ancient slavery was to insure that theheavy and inhuman work that was needed inany city just to survive had to be performed. Healso suggested that if machines could take over



much of this work, man would be free to do thethings more conducive to his nature. This use ofmachinery in fact is what happened. Man couldmake things of beauty and utility that wouldmake human life more abundant and more dig-nified in its surroundings. Indeed, making suchthings was the burden of civilization, thoughcivilization itself was the internal living of thelife of the virtues, both practical and theoretical.

We have heard of expressions such as “gentle-man farmer,” “gentleman doctor,” or even “gen-tleman priest.” These are not pejorative words.Rather they indicate that the man of craft or ofspirit needed also to be accomplished in manythings. He needed both to read and to make, and

yes to fish and to hunt, to sing and dance. Hisouter world reflected his inner world. The thingswith which he surrounded himself were imagesof his soul and revealed what he thought impor-tant about human life and its final meaning.Thus St. Benedict’s work and pray, his ora et labo-ra, made sense. The hand and the mind togetherwere to make a world that could be both usefuland beautiful, that employed all the virtues, thatsearched what transcends the daily world, thatreflected the City of God, yea even in this world.

James V. Schall, S.J. is a professor in theGeorgetown University Department of Government.

This article is unavailable for public access at this time.























Social Justice and the Liturgy: Inspirations, Ideas and the Legacy of Virgil Michel

Natalie Punchak

THE SANCTUARY


T he liturgy is the indispensable basis forChristian social regeneration,”affirmed Father Virgil Michel in the

midst of the most productive period of his enor-mously fruitful life and only three years beforehis untimely passing in 1938.116 Father Virgil, aBenedictine “monk of the world” at St. John’sAbbey, has been recognized as one of the origi-nal founders of the liturgical movement in theUnited States, spearheading a visionary recon-struction of the Catholic liturgy throughout theformer part of the twentieth century. VirgilMichel was indeed a visionary in every sense ofthe word, for his ideas for the greater participa-tion of the Catholic laity in the liturgy becameforerunners of the world-wide liturgical trans-formation at Vatican II. Father Michel’s ideaswere not mere carbon copies of those put forthby the leaders of the liturgical revival in Europeduring his time. Rather, they proved innovative,revolutionary and strikingly American, buildingupon and expanding on the ideas put forth byhis European counterparts. In establishing thekey relationship between the Church as a living,breathing and dynamic organism and the liturgyas the life of the Church which rehearses andprepares Catholics for daily living, Virgil Michel

dispelled the commonly held understanding ofliturgy as an end in itself. Liturgy, as the publicwork of the Church, was not the end but ratherthe beginning, for its aim was to prepare theMystical Body of Christ to act out against theinjustices of the world.

The initial part of my thesis will address theunique experiences, key mentors and someessential pieces of literature that propelled andinspired Virgil Michel to undertake the task ofspearheading a transformative shift in Catholicthought, specifically in regards to the indivisiblebond between liturgy and social justice. I willthen address Virgil Michel’s pioneering idea,delving deeper into the liturgy-Church-socialjustice relationship. Lastly, I will attempt to ana-lyze where and why it is that the Catholic laitytoday are failing to see the indissoluble linkbetween liturgy and social justice.117 From thisperspective, I will make several prescriptions,arguing that while some of Virgil Michel’s spe-cific ideas of economic reform are perhaps out-dated, the applicability of the fundamentalmodel of the Church as the Mystical Body ofChrist in our daily lives transcends all time andspace, and becomes particularly suitable to ourrapidly globalizing world.


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I. Inspirations: Ideas, Individuals and Experiences

Born in 1890, Virgil Michel grew up in an ageinundated with individualistic capitalism: “Atthe beginning of his professional life, VirgilMichel faced a world reeling from the slaughterof World War I. Violence had wrecked many ofEurope’s communities and undermined belief inthe decency and efficacy of Western culture. Butthe peace of the 1920s that ensued brought anew rush to materialism in the West, particular-ly in the United States.”118

As Paul Marx, Virgil Michel’s first biographer,emphasizes, “A new era had dawned, a time ofworld-wide social unrest; and pessimism ofevery kind flourished.”119 Morality was in decay,the American economy in disarray, and the livesof millions stood in shambles, very much likethe Hooverville shacks on the outskirts ofAmerican cities. The epoch in which VirgilMichel lived exceptionally demonstrated thecatastrophic effects that simultaneous povertyand materialism can have on “communitylife…Little wonder then that Virgil Michel’swork and writings are redolent of crisis—crisisin economics and politics, crisis in religion andthe Church, crisis in the human soul.”120 -Itseemed, then, that Virgil Michel’s life wasuniquely set in a context of crisis, that God wascalling upon him to seek solutions to a worldtruly desperate for answers.

Several of his collaborators and mentors,including his novice master, his abbot, and hisecclesiology professor, fundamentally impact-ed Dom Virgil’s vision. It was his old novicemaster, Father Athanasius Meyer, who firstimpressed upon Virgil Michel the notion thathuman beings could—through their ownactions—transform their world into a “paradiseon earth,” and that we must do so by synthesiz-ing tradition with an interest in the affairs ofthe world.121

Dom Virgil’s abbot, Father Alcuin Deutsch,was an enormously instrumental figure in his

life, not only sparking “Michel’s entering theBenedictine Order [but also deciding to send]him to Europe in 1924,” an experience fromwhich Virgil Michel gained a clearer vision forthe necessary revival among the Catholic laity inAmerica.122 Alcuin impressed upon Dom Virgilthe necessity of a uniquely American liturgicalmovement, providing him “with the impetus todirect the liturgical movement ever more ablyfrom Saint John’s to Catholic America and evenonward to reach the entire English-speakingworld.”123 A liturgical revival in America neededto be distinctly American.

Finally, Dom Lambert Beauduin, whom VirgilMichel met during his travels in Europe in 1924,is often noted as being the most fundamentallyinfluential personage to Virgil Michel’s vision.Since Dom Lambert was widely recognized asthe figure that spearheaded the liturgical move-ment in Belgium in the first decade of the twen-tieth century, Virgil Michel enthusiasticallysought out his experience and mentorship, even-tually letting Dom Lambert’s Mystical Bodyecclesiology and the monk’s emphasis on thehumanity as well as the divinity of Christ washover and inspire him.124

In his studies, Dom Virgil Michel synthesizedthe works, thoughts and writings of two fig-ures, Saint Thomas Aquinas and OrestesBrownson. Through the writings of these mon-umental thinkers, Michel arrived at his ownsynthesis of the liturgy as the public work of theMystical Body of Christ and the notion of socialaction and responsibility which flowed fromthis source. From Brownson, Virgil Michelreceived his enormous interest in contemporarythought and modern philosophy. Until he stud-ied philosophy in Europe, Michel, likeBrownson, was more interested in and certainlybetter acquainted with modern rather thanScholastic philosophy.125 However, Dom Michelsynthesized Brownson’s critique of Catholictheology and defense of the Church with theThomism of St. Aquinas in order to produce his


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unique vision.126 After his undertaking of a doc-toral program focused on the workings of St.Thomas at Louvain, Virgil Michel developed amore in-depth understanding of St. Thomas as afundamental teacher of the truths of Christ andreturned to America with a firm conviction tobring the philosophy St. Thomas to his country.It was Dom Virgil’s firmly rooted Thomism,enthused with an interest in the social problemsof the world, which aided in his development ofeconomic and social solutions to the problemsof his day.

Two particular experiences that propelledVirgil Michel into his fervent undertaking werehis interactions with ordinary people—first inhis travels throughout Europe and later, at theIndian Reservations of Northern Minnesota.“While in Rome, he meticulously took note ofthe numerous sights, observing circumstanceand custom in the ordinary living of lay people,monks and clergy.”127 Upon taking a series oftrips throughout the European mainland, heclearly observed “a sharp distinction and broaddistance between clergy and people…Hedeplored the absence of social responsibility onthe part of the Spanish clergy and nobility [andthus,] his European sojourn brought countlessideas and realities into his experience” whichbecame central to his doctrine of Christian social reconstruction.128

Even more central to his developing vision ofthe lay apostolate was his experience at theChippewa Indian missions in NorthernMinnesota in the late spring of 1930. It was herethat Virgil Michel was able to more fully realize“the conclusion that lay persons must act asleaders in carrying the social implications ofliturgy out into the world.”129 Virgil Michel livedwith the Indians as one of them, at ease with thesimplicity of the community; and yet he workedamong them zealously, putting “into practice allthe maxims about pastoral life which had char-acterized his earlier liturgical apostolate.”130

Just as Virgil Michel touched the morality of

those whom he had met, the experience of livingon the margins of society touched Virgil Micheldeeply, becoming truly transformative for him.No wonder, then, that upon his reluctant returnfrom the Chippewa Indian missions, he vigor-ously set upon further developing the synthesisbetween liturgy and the laity of the CatholicChurch, in a period that proved the most fruitfulof his industrious life.

II. Virgil Michel’s Fundamental Vision

It is worth noting that in spite of the social prin-ciples put forth exactly forty years before byPope Leo XIII in his Rerum Novarum, relativelyfew had been aware of the kind of social recon-struction proposed at the very end of the nine-teenth century.131 American society was in dan-ger of collapse and in urgent need of cure-alls toits problems. The uniqueness of Virgil Michel’sproposed solutions and remedies—his vision forsocial reconstruction—had to do with his abilityto address “the roots of the problem and [to lay]bare underlying causes—godless individualism,hidden paganism, a subtle bourgeois spirit, rankmaterialism, and their supporting ideologies.”132

Virgil Michel stressed the vital importance ofstarting with the self first and foremost; that is,the fundamentality of initially recovering one’sown morality and human values in order to pro-ceed and press forward in resolving the socialquestions of the day. In the words of Paul Marx,“social chaos about us is often only the reflectionof spiritual chaos within us; that unless modernman recovered human spiritual values, therewould be no lasting Christian social reconstruc-tion.”133 Thus, social reconstruction must beginat the very root and source of the problem, deal-ing with the initial spiritual awakening of theindividual to the values of human dignity andthe common good. And it is precisely here thatthe liturgy proved central in its ability to compela total reconstruction of society.

Virgil Michel argued that from the verybeginnings of the Renaissance movement,


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humanity became embroiled in a continuallyadvancing individualism so that we had com-pletely forgotten its corporate nature. We are,first and foremost, social beings. The MysticalBody of Christ on earth is then the model whichmust guide our daily efforts in reconstructingand rebuilding our communities. And while wemust certainly shape our specific plans for socialjustice “according to current conditions of timeand place”, the Mystical Body of Christ willserve as our eternal guide. This model of theMystical Body is applicable to all times andplaces; it transcends age and space.

How, precisely, are we transformed into thisMystical Body of Christ? As initiated members ofthe Church, we are incorporated parts of a greaterwhole, each and every one of us called to share inthe work and priesthood of Jesus Christ. Indeed,it is when we are incorporated into Christ that wereceive the sanctifying grace which enables us togo out into the world and to further His missionof justice and peace. Incorporated into Christ, wemust now become the living branches, living the“Christ-life” not only during Sunday liturgy butin our daily lives. Liturgy is rehearsal; our houseof worship a rehearsal room. We must not stopthere, for liturgy is not an end in itself but rather,the beginning. From the liturgy, we go forth, let-ting the teachings of Jesus Christ impressed uponus throughout our partaking and participation inthe liturgy guide us in every aspect of our ordinarylives. “Together with Christ all the branches forma real, living, supernatural organism, permeatedand vitalized by the indwelling Spirit of Christ.The Holy Spirit, as its vivifying soul, unites thewhole organism into one living community oflife. In this one living organism all are called to anactive share, not only in the organic life and cor-porate worship of the undivided MysticalChrist—His Church—but also to an active share,according to the status of each, in His work andmission as continued on earth by the Church.”134

This active share must first transpire in theliturgy and we then seek to let Christ’s mission

on Earth become our daily work. Indeed, VirgilMichel’s emphasis on liturgy as the life of theChurch was a fundamental element of his doc-trine, from which the participation of theCatholic laity would then flow in all directionsof the world. The basis of obligation for thissocial action lay in man’s inescapably socialnature. For “his physical, moral, intellectual, andspiritual development every person is depend-ent on others. Whatever he or she achieves is insome way due to the work and accomplish-ments of those who have gone before him orwho help him now...”135 This idea of the tightlyinterlinked nature of human beings and the fun-damental role of the liturgy as the source fromwhich our preparation and inspiration for ourwork emanates was the visionary element ofDom Virgil Michel’s thinking.

Thus, his central contribution to the world ofCatholic thought lies in his tracing of the socialimplications of the liturgy for a living out of theChrist-life, for a complete transformation inhuman attitudes and thinking regarding theearthly world in which we live. To Virgil Michel,the liturgy was not a detached, performative rit-ual of Catholic worship; it was inseparable fromdaily living and social life. There was no dual-ism; no religious and secular; liturgy and socialaction were fused into one another. Just ashuman beings are bound to one another as theMystical Body of Christ, so too is the liturgybound to social justice as the foundation for allsocial action and daily living. “When we askourselves what should the right structure of anyhuman society be, or how should the individualbe related to any society of men,” asserted VirgilMichel, “we can always point to the MysticalBody and say: There is the model that we shouldtry to follow in all our human relations; for Godconstructed it on the basis of what is best in andfor our natures.”136

As a further addition to his writings, VirgilMichel lent a generous and helping hand to aninfinite number of movements—the most


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prominent among them being the founding ofthe Catholic Worker Movement by Dorothy Dayand Peter Maurin, the establishment ofCatherine De Hueck’s Friendship House and thesuccessful re-launching of the Inter-StudentCatholic Action organization in Chicago: “Itmattered little to him whether the group waslarge or small, whether their activities were far-developed or just emerging from the planningstage…And he possessed the rare talent to gath-er every manifestation of Catholic thought andlife into a coordinated whole until a verifiablenetwork of somehow related movements wentout from the monastery cell of Father Virgil of St.John’s to well-nigh every section of the UnitedStates and Canada.”137 His ideas of the greaterparticipation of the Catholic laity in the liturgywere deeply integrated into the 1963Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy of Vatican II,prophetically transforming Catholics’ participa-tion in Sunday Mass. And social work move-ments sprung up everywhere across by theUnited States, a phenomenon quite evidentwhen one examines the rapidly growing num-ber of relief and social organizations under theCatholic Charities USA organization, amongmany others.

If we fast forward from Dom Virgil’s time toour very own time and age, however, one stillfinds ours replete with crisis. We live in a timenot very different from that of Virgil Michel, forwe also are now in the midst of a “War againstTerrorism”, a global economic and financial cri-sis, and an immigration problem, while much ofthe world is experiencing a crisis of faith. At thesame time, there is indeed a growing trend inthe number of Catholic faith-based initiativesand social services across the country so that thetotal lack of a Catholic lay apostolate—as in1930s America—no longer seems to be the prob-lem. The missing link, however, lies in the fail-ure of the lay apostolate to connect their work ofthe liturgy with that of social justice. It appearsthat in spite of Catholics’ greater sensitivity and

heightened conscience towards the needs ofsociety, this developing social justice trend ispromising, but fragile at best. For in our inabili-ty to embrace the liturgy-social justice relation-ship, have we truly transformed our attitudes ofindividualism into a communal lens or view ofthe world? Surely, achieving peace and justicein the world is a difficult, unending process anda fundamentally monumental task, but in spiteof the legacy of Virgil Michel, why do we oftenmiss the key centrality of the liturgy to oursocial work?

Perhaps the failure of the Vatican IIConstitution to “make a clear connection be -tween liturgy and social justice” is to blame.138

Perhaps it is the fact that Virgil Michel’s specific ideas of socio-economic reform werevery much products of his time and are there-fore, not wholly applicable today. Some mayeven carry the misconception that in his zeal tocatapult the Mystical Body of Christ into action,Virgil Michel sought to establish a theocraticstate or society, when nothing could be furtherfrom the truth.

Surely, anyone hoping for a “revolution” willindeed be disappointed, for while VirgilMichel’s ideas were certainly groundbreaking,the revolution which he sought must take itsroot in the minds and hearts of the Catholic laityfirst. In light of the unceasing multitude of prob-lems in our world today, a complete social trans-formation is likely to be a very gradual develop-ment. However, if Catholics fail to recognize theindispensability of liturgy and social reform toone another, it is a rather troubling yet common-sense prediction to make that the rising trend insocial justice work and movements across thecountry could then only be a mere trend. In aworld of dynamic and imminent change, if wedo not deeply root the social work that we dointo the one organic and living source of stabili-ty, the Church, what are the chances that ourown social work will not merely be a worldly,temporary affair? What are the chances that the


a Natalie Punchak

model of the Mystical Body of Christ willbecome a model for all time and age if we do notunderstand it with full completeness?

In a world that is rapidly moving closertogether day by day, with mass communicationstechnology and the forces of globalization uponus, the disparities and the social ills of our timeare clearer than ever before. In fact, perhaps wecould use all the developments of our age andthe empowering doctrine of the Mystical Bodyof Christ to our advantage. It seems that our ageof technological interconnectedness is uniquelysuited to the fostering of corporality and fellow-

ship in the world, for ideas today have thepower to spread like wildfire when put forthwith creativity, dexterity and zeal. I propose,then, that we must now seek to apply VirgilMichel’s doctrine of the Mystical Body of Christ“to all the forms of our social life, the family, thecommunity, the state, and thus build up anew aChristian social order of life.”139 Truly, there hasnever been a more appropriate time.

Natalie Punchak is a senior in the GeorgetownCollege of Arts & Sciences studying Government,English, and Spanish.

A Feeling of Foreboding: Nietzsche and the Consequences of Morality

Justin R. Hawkins

THE SANCTUARY

“The story I have to tell is the history of the next

two centuries....”

F. Nietzsche, The Will to Power140


I t is undeniable that Nietzsche has made hisimprint on the face of the philosophicallandscape since his writing in the late

1700s. Although enduring relative obscurityduring his life, Nietzsche has been rediscoveredand reinterpreted countless times as theharbinger of the end of modernity and theprophet of a new type of philosophy. His is acomplicated, subtle, and nuanced philosophythat does not easily open itself to the hastyreader, but must be pondered—“ruminated.”That is the ambition of this essay—to examinehis philosophical system, specifically his critiqueof Christianity, so that the consequences of it aremade explicit and judged on their merits.

It must be admitted at the outset thatpresenting a critique of Nietzsche—especiallyone from a Christian perspective—is fraughtwith inherent difficulties. Part of the challengeof critiquing Nietzsche in a systematic way isthat he is anything but a systematic thinker. Hiswitty banter and aphoristic style make itchallenging to discern the consistency of hisarguments and even more challenging to refutethem.141 But the greatest obstacle to criticizingNietzsche as an avowed theist is the wholesalelack of common ground that subsequentlyrenders it difficult to determine a starting pointfrom which to launch such a criticism.

Nietzsche insulates himself from attack fromvirtually every other philosophical system byportraying those systems as “slave morality”and therefore as positions incapable of lodginglegitimate criticism. He himself castigatestheories that are refutable as “charminglyseductive,” and therefore is entirely consistent inpresenting a theory that is wholly non-falsifiable.142

In fact, his method itself renders falsifiabilityboth extraneous and unnecessary. His method,like that of Aristotle, was observation, and it isupon the power and accuracy of Nietzsche’sobservations that his legitimacy primarilystands. It is true that Nietzsche was a propheticthinker with a privileged glimpse into theshortcomings of modernity. He witnessed thedecline of European philosophy, literature, andreligion with disappointment.143 Something—something that eluded most observers—hadoccurred in the workings of modernity thatkilled God and birthed Zarathustra. It was oneof the chief goals of Nietzsche to determineexactly what this “something” was.

Nietzsche points most definitively toPlatonism and Christianity, which is “Platonismfor the people” as a primary source ofwidespread discontent with the world. It is thecorrupting, nihilistic influence of Christianity


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which exalts a non-material, transcendent worldover the present physical world whichNietzsche passionately loathes and againstwhich he launches his most vitriolic barbs. Yetaccounting for Nietzsche’s view of Christianityas a whole is difficult because his opinion of itevolved over time.144 In his youth he was anadamant Christian before disavowing the faith,after which his animosity against Christianityonly increased and reached its culmination inhis eventual self-identification as the antichrist.The process of Europe’s evolving relation toChristianity which Nietzsche witnessedparalleled his own personal experience withGod. Nietzsche was deeply pious in his youth;Europe was formerly very Christianized. Butthrough the process of modernization, Nietzschesaw Europe drifting away from Christianity justas he himself did; and he predicted that theculmination of this trend of secularizationwould be a wholesale rejection of Christianity.

Though his opinions fluctuated, it is notinaccurate to see Nietzsche as a religiouswriter.145 In a certain sense, Nietzsche owes agreat debt to Christianity. In fact, he isincomprehensible without it. He is one who isvirtually obsessed with the “errors” ofChristianity even after he has rejected them aserroneous.146 He incorporates much of thelanguage of Christianity into his own writings,but spins the vocabulary to present himself asthe antithesis of Christianity. He claims that hissystem is a transvaluation of all values, but alsothat Christianity was the first such system.147

Nietzsche’s philosophical prescriptions are thedirect antithesis of Christianity, just as hislanguage of the superman is the direct antithesisof Christ: “This Jesus of Nazareth, as theembodiment of the gospel of love, this‘redeemer’ bringing salvation and victory to thepoor, the sick, to sinners—was he not seductionin its most sinister and irresistible form?”148 Hissuperman takes on Christ-like qualities: “some

time, in a stronger age that this moldy, self-doubting present day, he will have to come to us, the redeeming man of great love andcontempt.”149 For Nietzsche, the failure ofChristianity was so complete and the problemsit caused so intractable that the only remedy toChristianity was its exact opposite.

But here Nietzsche’s intellectual programmeets its first criticism. The difficulty posed tothe Christian endeavoring to criticize Nietzschedue to lack of common ground also hampersNietzsche’s own criticism. By comparing twoopposing systems of value (the good and evil ofChristianity the good and bad of Nietzsche),Nietzsche is faced with a difficulty. Either hemust introduce a third element by which he canjudge the two systems and determine which ispreferable, or he must judge both systems by one or the other standard. He favors thesecond option, and employs the barometer ofgood and bad, with its implicit pragmatism, tojudge both moral systems. But if the Christiancriticism of Nietzsche is invalid due to the lack of common assumptions, then intellectualconsistency mandates that Nietzsche’s owncriticism of Christianity be likewise neutralized.Consequently, the extent of his criticism cannotgo much further than simply to say of “goodand evil” that it is not “good and bad”—anassertion that scarcely represents a landmark ofphilosophical thought.

Yet Nietzsche is not content merely todemonstrate the differences between the twosystems; he does harbor a desire to rank valuesystems in relation to each other, which placeshim in the position of having to identify abarometer by which he can judge between the two systems.150 The barometer chosen is that a value system must be “affirming of life”—a nebulous criterion at best. Moreover, thebarometer of being “affirming of life” iscontained inherently within his system of goodand bad. Therefore, he really is not engaging in


A Feeling of Foreboding a

a revaluation of all values, but in a revaluationof some (namely, the Christian and Platonic)values. His revaluation is an attempt to returnman to the center of the philosophical universe,to make him the measure of all things, and thuscreate an ideology which affirms human life andhuman experience above all other concerns.

Yet while Nietzsche’s agenda initially seemsvirtuous, it involves a perspective that isconfined by the Death of God, and thesubsequent loss of a transcendental basis forethics. The return of man to the center of thephilosophical universe is predicated upon thedenial of anything more significant than man.Therefore Nietzsche’s ideological frame must apriori deny the possibility that there is anothermetaphysical realm in comparison to which thislife is insignificant151 Though Nietzsche attemptsto be life-affirming, he eventually becomes life-obsessed and runs a terrible danger ofadvocating a perilously myopic philosophicalstructure. Here, as much as Nietzsche wouldprotest, he must at last be subjected to the test oftruth. If, in fact, human life is the highest end,then Nietzschean philosophy (with all theconsequences which follow) can be accepted as accurate and useful. But if there existssomething that transcends human life, thenNietzsche is guilty of ignoring not only thesignificance, but also the very existence of thehighest things. A philosophy which cannotaccount for a significant portion of reality—the metaphysical portion—is bound to haveproblematic conclusions.

Nietzsche’s rebuttal to this criticism isconsistent with his overall philosophicalprogram. The “will to Truth,” like all othervalues, is submitted to revaluation: “We oughtto inquire about the value of truth.”152 BecauseNietzsche is not willing to accept the possibilitythat his system fails to account for something, hedenies not the existence of truth, but rather, thesignificance of truth. Consequently, the function

of religion for Nietzsche is not the search forprofound human truth (since such an endeavoris impossible), but rather a reinforcement of acertain system of valuation.153 In theory, religioncan be useful for instituting Nietzsche’s newmoral code of good and bad, but only a veryspecific breed of religion. Christianity is not ofthis breed; its praise of virtue, humility, andplacidity is directly antithetical to the will topower, and its claims to transcendent truth aremerely glorified opinions:

“This mode of reasoning discloses the typ-ical prejudice by which metaphysicians ofall times can be recognized, this mode ofvaluation is at the back of all their logicalprocedure; through this ‘belief’ of theirs,the exert themselves for their ‘knowledge,’for something that is in the end solemnlychristened ‘the Truth.’”154

Yet the legitimacy of truth as a viable criterionfor evaluation is not as easily dismissed asNietzsche might hope. By asserting that truth isinsignificant, Nietzsche is himself making aclaim about the way the world is organized—atruth claim. His Genealogy of Morality is anattempt to rationally explain the origins of whatNietzsche sees as a lamentable phenomenon—morality. As such, the genealogy necessarilymakes certain truth claims. Nietzsche furtherimplies that these truth claims have significancewhen he looks to them to validate his newsystem of values. Nietzsche cannot coherentlyformulate his philosophy without appealing tosome sort of truth—a central tenet of the slavemorality that he so roundly condemns asdeficient and outdated. Nietzsche’s use oflanguage itself betrays him.

The ramifications of the denial of truth aresignificant even beyond impacting our methodsof discourse. One prominent consequence ofNietzsche’s revaluation of truth and his newsystem of good and bad is the denial of natural


a Justin R. Hawkins

law. Law and truth are no longer functions ofreason, but functions of will.155 Therefore, thenatural law, with its basis in transcendentreason, is denied: “You desire to live ‘accordingto nature’? Oh, you noble Stoics, what fraud of words!”156 Natural law becomes not anordination of reason, but only the whim of thosewho desire to “recreate nature in their ownimage.” Man’s telos is stripped from him; life isno longer a search for the Good, as Plato andAristotle had suggested, but “life itself is Will topower.”157 By propagating a system of “unnaturallaw,” Nietzsche represents the antithesis ofAristotle, and his analysis poses a direct threat toAristotelian reason. It is this relationship ofNietzsche to Aristotle which largely cements hisposition not merely as a musing genius, but as aserious metaphysical philosopher concernedwith the question of being.158

But do Nietzsche’s answers really representan innovative way of doing philosophy? It isclear that Nietzsche sees himself as a propheticphilosopher, as the subtitle of his book BeyondGood and Evil: Prelude to a Philosophy of theFuture, might suggest. But much of Nietzsche’ssubstance is actually a reversion to the ideas ofprevious philosophers and writers. Seen in thislight, the revaluation of values is actually a stepbackwards. Nietzsche’s observations reveal thata world which claims to have seen the Death ofGod will look strikingly similar to a world thathad never known God at all.

Nietzsche’s philosophical forerunner wasone whom his nemesis, Plato, had himself dealt with: Thrasymachus. When discussingthe nature of justice as an interlocutor in the Republic, Thrasymachus foreshadowsNietzsche by arguing that justice is merely a contrivance and nothing more than the interest of the stronger.159 Therefore it is nothing revolutionary, and it is certainly notintroducing an innovative system of valuationwhen Nietzsche declares that:

“to talk of just and unjust as such is mean-ingless; an act of injury, violence, exploita-tion or destruction cannot be unjust assuch, because life functions essentially inan injurious, violent, exploitative anddestructive manner.”160

Nietzsche’s political forerunner wasMachiavelli, who, like Nietzsche, is often read asa liberating author for moving beyond the con-straints of morality. The greatest commonalitybetween the two men is their idolization of thesame political and heroic figure. Cesare Borgiarepresents the epitome of Machiavelli’s politicalrealism. Machiavelli said of him: “I know of nobetter precept to bestow upon a new prince thanthat he follow the example of [Cesare’s]actions.”161 Borgia is praised also by Nietzsche as“the man of prey who is fundamentally misun-derstood.”162 This is high praise for the manwhose most notable act, recorded byMachiavelli, was to kill a consul which he hadpreviously appointed through cronyism andplaced “his body, cut in two, on view in the pub-lic square of Cesana with a wooden block andblood-stained knife resting reside it” in order tointimidate the citizens of the city into compli-ance.163 The fact that a man who employs suchinhuman tactics is praised by a philosopher whoclaims to be “affirming of life” is at once farcicaland patently absurd, but it demonstrates the dif-ficulty which the Nietzschean system necessari-ly encounters. If transcendence is gone, whatfoundation other than the exercise of powerremains upon which one can erect an ethicalstructure? If man can no longer be a rational ani-mal, he must devolve into a barbaric animal.

Here it is necessary to address the relationbetween Nietzsche and the more modern politi-cal entity which co-opted him as part of itsphilosophical schema: Nazism. This author doesnot hold that Nietzsche was the forerunner toHitler. Such a claim is both too ad hominem andtoo specious. Simply because a philosopher


A Feeling of Foreboding a

anticipated an event does not justify accusationsthat he somehow caused the event itself.164 Infact, a significant amount of literature existswhich asserts that the adoption of Nietzscheismby the Nazis was not legitimate. Nevertheless,several observations are beyond doubt: first,that the Nazis did appropriate Nietzschean phi-losophy for their political and social ambition,although admittedly the aphoristic nature ofNietzsche’s writings renders him especially sus-ceptible to being read out of context or misinter-preted. Secondly, that Nietzsche does, in fact,contain some anti-Semitic diatribes that certain-ly appealed to the fiercely nationalistic Nazis.He blames Jews for the inversion of values andthe origins of the slave insurrection of morali-ty.165 It is a Jewish system of morality whichwrought Christianity, and every attack onChristianity also contains an implicit attack onJudaism.166 However, it is primarily against themodern forms of Judaism that he reacts nega-tively; he is a proponent of ancient Israelbecause he sees them as having had a more freeexercise of the will to power.167 While certainlynot politically correct, these observations hardlyconstitute the intellectual foundations for agenocidal tyranny.

Therefore, it is not on the basis of the reappro-priation of Nietzsche that one can criticize hisphilosophy, though many have taken that tact.Rather, Nietzscheanism ought to be criticized asan ethical structure because there is nothing in itthat can be used to oppose an entity like theNazis. Once one accepts the Nietzschean frame-work, there is no philosophical basis uponwhich to decry the crimes against humanity per-petrated by the Nazis when they claimed to bethe first incarnations of the ubermensch. Whenchallenged about the brutal extermination poli-cies aimed at purification of the Aryan race, theNazi party could respond: “Have you everasked yourselves properly how costly the set-

ting up of every ideal on earth has been?”168 Ifany member of the SS expressed personalqualms about the injustices he was ordered tocommit, his superior officer could retort that“bad conscience is a sickness, there is no point indenying this.”169 By placing decisive power inthe hands of the ubermensch and exalting him asa being superior to man, Nietzscheanism stripsits adherents of the ability to oppose tyranny.

The Nazi example illuminates the fact thatNietzsche, by taking the vacuous assumptionsof modernity to their logical conclusion, pres-ents a philosophy that is in direct opposition tohuman reason, and does so on the basis of littlemore than conjecture. In short, Nietzscheattempts to subvert the prevalent system ofmorality by positing its antithesis, and therebyturning it on its head. Justice is replaced withprejudice. Mercy is replaced by domination ofthe stronger.170 Christ looks on the masses withcompassion.171 The superman, on the other hand,looks at them with contempt.172

Yet there is no scandal in thus overturning thecontemporary moral system because that isexactly what Nietzsche’s experiment entails. Hewould undoubtedly consider his philosophicalproject a resounding failure were it not manifest-ly offensive to modern sensibilities, for it is mod-ern sensibilities themselves which are underattack. Therefore, the modern man has no meansof criticizing Nietzsche on the basis of reason(because reason is denied), or truth (becausetruth is insignificant), or compassion (since it isa hallmark of the slave). Nietzsche’s philosoph-ical schema dwells safely within the fortress ofnon-falsifiability, and his insulation from criti-cism is complete. These are the dangers of whichNietzsche’s vision warns us. Nietzsche could seefarther into Europe’s future than any other manof his day, and he foresaw the dangers whichnihilism would bring. One must look to the con-sequences of what Nietzsche foresaw and


a Justin R. Hawkins

understand that if Nietzsche was right, the intel-lectual and historical ramifications of such abelief system represent nothing less than anegregious affront to the sensibilities of any butthe most barbaric man.

But what if Nietzsche’s conclusions werewrong? His powers of observation wereunmatched; nevertheless, the accuracy of hisobservations does not lead immediately to thecogency of his conclusions and predictions. Ifone recalls that it is only because of the rejectionof reason and truth that the entire Nietzscheanundertaking is necessary, it is accurate to saythat if a rational basis for ethics can be defendedsufficiently, Nietzsche’s entire undertaking issuperfluous and the consequences of it can beavoided.173 Nietzsche’s distasteful conclusionsare avoidable only if truth and reason areaffirmed, and this is precisely what a vigorous,

intellectually satisfying theism does. Nietzscheis correct in observing that the tepid and weakspirituality of the common man in Europe wasno match for the impending nihilism. But per-haps a return to a significant and meaningfultranscendence—a transcendence that is notdefined by rote custom, but which is character-ized by the exuberance of life which Nietzscheembraced so strongly—can stave off nihilism.Nietzsche’s accusations must be answered. IfNietzsche is understood as the harbinger of thefailures of modernity, his prophetic voice mightbe exactly what reawakens and refocuses theChristian to his indispensible spiritual duty.

Justin R. Hawkins is a senior in the GeorgetownUniversity College of Arts & Sciences studyingGovernment.

The Passion of Lacking All Conviction: Secularism in Europe in the New Millennium

Karl O’Hanlon

THE SANCTUARY

“Our tolerance is part of what makes Britain

Britain. So conform to it, or don’t come here.”

-Tony Blair


A group of militant “humanists” havelately emerged in the Europeanpublic sphere, including journalist

Christopher Hitchens and biologist RichardDawkins, who like the fool of the Psalms believein their hearts that there is no God (Psalm 53).These ‘New Atheists’ have propounded abloodlessly positivist criteria of rationality, andadvanced the case for science’s technologicaladvances, sweeping away the ancientsuperstitions known as religion.

Charles Taylor’s magisterial study, A SecularAge, mounts a considerable assault on the mis-apprehension that conventional narratives ofsecularization hold: ‘secularity consists of thefalling off of religious belief and practice, inpeople turning away from God, and no longergoing to Church. In this sense, the countries ofwestern Europe have mainly become secular.’174

He calls this “the subtraction thesis,” as if all weneeded to effectively recognize the rise ofmodernity as a narrative of loss. Taylor shiftsthe parameters of the debate to include anothersense in which our age may be termed “secu-lar”: ‘a move from a society where belief in Godis unchallenged and, indeed, unproblematic, toone in which it is understood to be one optionamong others.’175

It quickly becomes clear that Taylor’s adroitreconfiguration of the terms under debateallows us to conduct a discussion about secular-ism in western European social and political lifethat surpasses the shortcomings of the subtrac-tion thesis. Not least of these is the inability ofthe latter to account for the enduring vitality ofreligion in the world at large; except, of course,to belittle and discount it as gory atavism, asdoes Christopher Hitchens: ‘the gnarled handswhich reach out to drag us back to the cata-combs and the reeking altars and the guiltypleasures of subjection and abjection.’176

Such reductive, sensationalist responses tothe complex problem of religion and secularismare increasingly difficult to countenance in aworld that sometimes seems split between reli-gious fundamentalism on the one hand andbare, instrumental Reason (always capitalized,in its godlike autonomy) on the other. This falsedilemma sows the seeds of discord, and oftenresults in extreme violence. Taylor’s approachhas the salutary effect of unsettling these starkbinaries of faith and reason, a prescient move ina multicultural, pluralist Europe.

One of the more fascinating elements of thecontemporary debate on religion is the emer-gence of a radical ideology of science, most iden-


a Karl O’Hanlon

tifiable in the evangelical Neo-Darwinism ofRichard Dawkins. In Dawkins, moral evolutionand scientific development are glibly co-equal-ized. As Terry Eagleton writes, ‘There are,Dawkins is gracious enough to acknowledge,“local and temporary setbacks” to humanprogress (one thinks of such minor backslidingsas Belsen, Hiroshima, apartheid, and so on), butthe general upward trend is unmistakable. . .History is perpetually on the up.’177

The effect of this new strain of hard-line sec-ularism in the sciences has been to instrumen-talise reason, and subject critical thought to sci-ence’s own procedural systems of epistemology.Jürgen Habermas is an astute critic of this dan-gerous lurch towards technocracy: ‘The sciencesemancipate themselves from the guidelines[Vorgaben] of philosophy in both directions: theysentence philosophy to the more modest busi-ness of retrospective reflection on, on the onehand, the methodologically proper advances ofthe sciences, and, on the other, on the presump-tively universal features of those practices andforms of life that are for us without alternatives,even if we find ourselves in them contingent-ly.’178 In other words, the sciences have limitedthe role of philosophy to what is proper to sci-entific development, while cultural and histori-cally specific modes of understanding havesimultaneously been conflated into impersonal,ahistorical abstract universality. Man is alienat-ed from the universe as never before, at thesame time as his desire to master a runawayworld and bring it to heel via the sciencesbecomes ineluctable.

It goes without saying that Habermas orother critics of the new scientism are not againstscientific research or developmental progress. Iis the ideology of science that is the damagingfactor—a cock-sure belief in progress no lessdevout than those of the most egregious believ-er. The dangers of a technocratic system of

knowledge are apparent, giving rise to the self-identification of Dawkins et al. as humanists.For the renowned Thomist philosopher, JacquesMaritain, such a humanism is a monstrous oxy-moron, as it roundly denies the ‘supremely vitalact of the intellect,’ the mind as a gift from Godwhich is inductive and synthesizing as well as amerely passive recipient of data.179 Such falsifica-tion of the pursuit of knowledge and blindnessto the frailty of progress leads inevitably to abrave new world, a totalitarianism of scientificrationality. In 1919, WB Yeats wrote in ‘TheSecond Coming’: ‘The best lack all conviction,While the worst are filled with passionate inten-sity.’ In our uncertain age we cannot say that theskeptics are any less dangerous than the zealots.

Are there any ways out of this impasse?Positions are so entrenched that imaginativeand critically-responsible solutions will strug-gle to be heard above the din of accusations andrhetoric. Yet there are dark loomings that theneed to seek such new trajectories is utterlycrucial—the ban on the construction ofminarets in Switzerland, and the outright banof the burqa in public in France, bespeak afuture of deep intolerance in Europe as secular-ism becomes defined against religion, and notas the political neutrality in which different cul-tural and ideological conceptions of humanflourishing can be heard and responded to.Islamophobia, then, is one horizon on whichthe debate about secularism and religionhinges; but this debate is entirely loaded withEurope’s profound inability to come to termswith the mixed results of its Judeo-Christianheritage. On the one hand, secular Europe hasretained the worst of Christendom in its intol-erance towards the outsider, the infidel. On theother, it has repudiated its foundational beliefs,become hysterically defined against the truthand joy, and the tragic teleology, the recognitionof human limitations and the need for redemp-

tion and forgiveness which its religious tradi-tions embody. It is only by coming to termswith its origins that Europe can avoid wander-ing down yet another bloody, lamentable path,and instead imagine with humble confidence abrighter road to travel along. Georgetown, withits impressive international community and

robust commitment to the mutually-enrichingdialectic of faith and reason, is poised to leadthat rediscovery.

Karl O’Hanlon is a second year Master of Arts stu-dent in English in the Georgetown Graduate Schoolof Arts & Sciences.

The Passion of Lacking All Conviction a


“God for Harry! Englandand Saint George!” A Review of Shakespeare’s Richard II and Henry V

Michael Fischer

F rom the glittering halls of the court ofthe King of England to the dirty, blood-stained fields of Agincourt, the

Shakespeare Theater Company, in its perform-ances of Richard II and Henry V, delves into theessence of leadership. From the indecisive, inef-fective (yet pitiable) King Richard to the out-wardly noble and inwardly corrupt Henry IV tothe strongly conflicted Henry V, the Company’sLeadership Repertory transforms the wonderfuland timeless pages of Shakespeare into adelightfully fun and impressively powerfulstage experience. The Tocqueville Forumembarked for the double showing with a groupof student fellows in the hopes of enjoying theperformances and uncovering some of the keythemes of the plays. Leadership, of course, wasdiscussed, but so were the role of nature, theconflict of the nobility versus the commons, andthe power of corruption, among others.

Henry V, the first of the two shown perform-ances (though second chronologically) relatesthe nationalistic tale of Henry V’s struggle toobtain the throne of France, claimed as his rightby a distant relationship. Though the main storyfollows the trials and travails as Henry crossesthe Channel, besieges Harfleur, and battles tovictory at Agincourt, it is the subtler and less-bombastic moments of the play that shine.Henry struggles with the vices and legacies of

his former, less pristine life of a gambler, ques-tioning his position on the throne and having toput down betrayal and treasonous plots againsthis life before even leaving for France. Perhapsthe most powerful moment in the play comeswhen Henry is forced to kill one of his old, hap-less former friends who is found plunderingfrom a French church, an act forbidden byHenry in order to win good-will with the Frenchpeople. The agony on Henry’s face as he secret-ly mourns over his friend’s corpse drives hometo the audience the pains of leadership, and thetough choices that accompany ruling. Anotherthough-provoking moment occurred as Henry,in disguise as a commoner, wanders his campand questions his soldiers of their duties andfeelings for battle tomorrow. Of course, theaudience is eventually rallied from these foulmoments and conversations with famousspeeches (with lines like: “Once more into thebreach, dear friends” and “we few, we happyfew, we band of brothers.”) In the end, with theFrench defeated, Henry takes Princess Katherineas his bride and queen and makes way for hisson to be the future king of England and France,though as the chorus relates as the curtain clos-es, the union of the two states would not lastlong after Henry’s death.

Richard II dramatically shifts from the loudand inspiring fields of war to the dark and prob-


THE PARLOR

ing halls of the king’s court. The play relates thefall of Richard II, as his misrule and untradition-al ideas repeal one by one his lords, advisors,and friends. The play is certainly a tragedy, asRichard is eventually forced out of office by anusurper, Bolingbroke—-later Henry IV andfuture father of Henry V. Slowly deprived of hispower, crown, and even wife, Richard is left tophilosophize on his condition in the dampdepths of a castle prison, giving a masterfulmonologue on time and the ever-shifting for-tunes of men. Meanwhile, Bolingbroke findsrule difficult as some former supporters realizethe extent of their actions and attempt to restoreRichard to the throne. Finally, a misunderstoodcomment leads a lesser lord to assassinateRichard, and Henry to repent for his sins with aplanned journey to the Holy Land. Outside thestory, what makes Richard II so powerful arescenes of great emotion and humor, from thetear-jerking forced separation of Richard and hiswife to the side-splitting hilarity of the York fam-ily’s imploration before Henry IV. When the cur-tain closed, nevertheless, viewers left the theaterin hushed voices and deliberate movements, forthe play had struck a deep chord.

Performing in their theater directly acrossfrom the Verizon Center, the troupe majesticallystaged the two plays in near rapid succession, anamazing feat in that each actor and actress had arole in each play. The most amazing accomplish-ment, nevertheless, was the acting of MichaelHayden, who starred as both Henry V andRichard II (a combined total of memorized lines

nearly equal to the entirety of Shakespeare’sComedy of Errors). With brilliance and emotion,he evoked strong pathos from his audience.Other top performances included RachaelHolmes’s hilarious French Princess Katherineand Tom Story’s wickedly delightful Dauphin inHenry V, as well as Ted van Griethuysen’s mas-terful portrayal of the Duke of York, NaomiJacobson’s hilarious Duchess of York, and PhilipGoodwin’s thought-provoking John of Gaunt inRichard II.

The stage work really set apart theCompany’s performance. In Henry V, contrastsof dark and light were made with the uniformsof the soldiers: from the muddy, torn, and fadedEnglish garments to the outrageously brightmagentas, cyans, and yellows of the French.Under-stage lights were used to produce realis-tic-looking fires, smoke machines provided fogand dust from battle, and historically accurateweapons, equipment, and shelters all added tothe display. In Richard II, the use of the two sto-ries of the stage, ropes, trapdoors, and vegeta-tion all greatly enhanced the performance. Theridiculously pompous outfits of Richard were amust see, as well.

The double performance was remarkable,and in this student fellow’s opinion made for afantastic excursion for the Tocqueville Forum.

Michael Fischer is a sophomore in the Edmund A.Walsh School of Foreign Service studyingInternational Political Economy.

God for Harry! England and Saint George! a


I mmediately, William Wordsworth beginsMichael: A Pastoral Poem by guiding awayfrom the route dictated by development,

commerce and common traffic. “Your feet muststruggle,” he warns, “in bold ascent/ the pas-toral mountains front you.” “Pastoral,” hereand in the title, at foremost means relating to arural life, a shepherd’s life. But the word alsodraws with it a sense of the alternate definitionrelating to spiritual guidance. It is fitting thenthat the story Wordsworth proceeds to tell fromthis mountain top away from habitation is aparable that finds many Biblical parallels.Michael is a shepherd, “stout of heart andstrong of limb” with a body of “unusualstrength” and longevity, working the fields intohis death in his nineties.180 He had his first andonly child, Luke, in his late sixties with his wife,though “younger than himself full twentyyear,” was still exceptionally old for the age ofchild-bearing.

Michael is an unrefined man, but “thesefields, these hills, / which were his living beingeven more / than his own blood.”181 The landhas been passed down to him through his fam-ily and the connection to the land is inextrica-bly tied with his blood line. One without theother is incomplete. He is a man of perfect skill

and courage in his trade and protecting hisflock, but above all these accolades, Michael isfilled with love and compassion for his son:“the dearest object that he knew on earth.”182 Heeven had rocked Luke’s cradle “with awoman’s gentle hand.”183 This effeminate sideof Michael can only be read with the utmostrespect for the man’s character; he has provenhimself the strongest and most durable of man,in his eighties working vigorously on themountains Wordsworth assumes would leavethe reader flushed and panting. The raising ofyoung Luke reflects this combination of sturdyand loving upbringing. Michael crafts for him aminiature wooden shepherd’s staff and the boyjoins his father in the fields, learning the familytrade. By ten years old Luke “could stand /Against the mountain blasts, and to the heights,not fearing toil.” The enjambed line adds focusand power to “stand,” it hovers over the moun-tain blasts with authority, and credits the manwhich Luke is already becoming. He is alreadybecoming equipped to fend off the treacherous,to interact with the land and wild without anycrippling fear.

In Luke’s eighteenth year, events are set inmotion when Michael’s nephew defaults on aloan that Michael had made himself liable for,


“If From the Public Way You Turn Your Steps...”A Review of Michael: A Pastoral Poem, by William Wordsworth

Matthew McKillip

THE PARLOR

costing Michael “but little less / Than half hissubstance.”184 In response, Michael decides heLuke must be sent into the city to work with akinsman, because there is no employment avail-able in the poor rural areas so that he may even-tually return to take over the land. The elderlycouple is very apprehensive about this decisionuntil they recall Richard Bateman, the “parish-boy,” who was sent off just as Luke will be andbecame wildly rich and “left estates and moniesto the poor, / And at his birthplace built achapel, floored/ With marble which he sentfrom foreign lands”185 With renewed hope andeven enthusiasm, the family prepares for Luke’sdeparture. The day before Luke leaves, Michaeltakes him out to the area where they had collect-ed stones in order to build a sheepfold, a build-ing to shelter the sheep during storms. Here heasks Luke to “But lay one stone,” the first stoneof the sheepfold. 186 “Here, lay it for me, Luke,with thine own hand.”187 Michael tells Luke that he “thou hast been bound to me / Only bythe links of love,” then questions more abstract-ly, “When thou art gone / What will be left ofus?” But Michael rights himself and continues:

But I forget

My purposes. Lay now the corner-stone

As I requested, and hereafter, Luke,

When thou art gone away, should evilmen

Be thy companions, let this sheepfold be

Thy anchor and thy shield. Amid all fear

And all temptation, let it be to thee

An emblem of the life thy fathers lived.”

This “covenant,” as Michael himself calls it, ishis final gift and parting words to Luke.

Luke’s time in the city began well enough, hewrote home “loving letters, full of wondrousnews”188 But soon after, the hopes begin to dete-riorate: “Meantime Luke began / To Slacken inhis duty, and at length / He in the dissolute city

gave himself / To evil course; ignominy andshame / Fell on him, so that he was driven atleast / To seek a hiding place beyond the seas.”In only six lines, everything which Michael andhis ancestors have worked for has unraveled, helives seven more years, his wife three yearsbeyond that, and upon her death, the land issold “into a stranger’s hand”189 The decision byWordsworth not to melodramatize the disinte-gration of Luke’s morals speaks to the pressuresand adverse effects of cities. It is not farfetchedfor Wordsworth to image a young person losinghis way in a city and the modern reader also hasno trouble imaging such a character: the fall ofLuke is too quotidian to turn into a tragedy. Thenarration stays with Michael, and that is wherethe tragedy occurs- the land and his son bothstripped away, his hereditary connection witheach broken.

The new order created by the large city and the changed economy has torn throughMichael’s way of life with terrible inevitability.Michael and the rich tradition he has come from is stripped down to a “straggling heap ofunhewn stones,” the full realization of thetragedy encompassed in this hardly noticeablearea is completed. They represent the broken“covenant” with his son, the loss of land, his lin-eage has become nothing but the wind over theland. It lives too, though, in the breath of thepoet, and in the retelling of his story. Despite theoverwhelming and emptiness of the closinglines, this is not a fatalist piece of work. The turnof Luke’s fortune is a near duplicate of the orig-inal shortcoming of Michael’s nephew, each haseffectively robbed Michael of “half his sub-stance,” yet the reaction of Michael to each ren-ders them far different. The virtuous Michaelforgives his nephew, but he becomes indignantat himself for allowing his years of labor to wast-ed as such: “the sun itself / Has scarcely beenmore diligent than I, / And I have lived to be afool at last / To my own family”190 In the case ofLuke, he has just as much a right to find himself

If From the Public Way You Turn Your Steps a


outraged, for his son has surely, maliciously ornot, again made him the “fool.” The only reac-tion of Michael’s is that to the sheepfold “manyand many times a day he thither went, / Andnever lifted up a single stone.”191 The small hopethat Wordsworth provide seems meager: “Thereis a comfort in the strength of love, / ‘Twill makea thing endurable which else / Would break theheart.”192 The covenant between father and sonhere failed, as it often does, but the potentialstrength in the covenant has not been denied.Michael’s love and care for his son transcend theeconomic transaction that has fallen through. Hewill never abandon his half of the agreement;the “shield and anchor” remain resolute in spiteof the sadness and pain it has caused.

It is incredible that a poem about sheepfolds,which Wordsworth himself had to define in afootnote in 1800, remains such a forceful poem.Countless numbers of Georgetown studentshave been in Luke’s position, leaving their fam-ily at age eighteen and moving to Washington,DC. One only needs to look at any collegebrochure or university website to see the shiningface of “Richard Bateman” and testimonials tothe child’s success, gained by “virtue” of beingin the city. It is Georgetown’s responsibility toacknowledge the “covenants” with parents, tra-ditions and home towns it can so easily break byuprooting young students. Wordsworth and thelikes of Wendell Berry surely would like to ter-minate this system and leave young people tohelp strengthen the land, their home towns, andconsequently the country. But even knowingLuke’s fate, it is hard to completely disagreewith Michael when he tells his son, “it seemgood / That thou should’st go.”193 There is noopportunity for advancement and in Michael’scase—he would leave his son worse off than hewas. The search is for something reconcilable

between personal heritage and the also veryobvious potential upside for a big city that hasattracted so many for hundreds of years.Wordsworth calls the family an “endless indus-try” in reference to their constant hard work, butthe phrase also evokes a frightening and power-ful ideal that drives the expansion of industry atall costs.

This poem rushes to an end, providing littlemore than a summary of the events startingwith Luke’s departure to the city. The hollowedout framework of these lines do not tell thereader how to feel, but instead forces the readerto empty his own sympathies for Michael. Thedisorder of the remains of the tale, the “strag-gling heap of unhewn stones,” that were intro-duced at the beginning of the poem, are thereminder of the covenant which could havebeen with terrible sadness. Upon reading andre-reading this poem, you cannot help but poseto the question to yourself whether or not youwould have acted as Luke. Without ever men-tioning the word, Michael demands a reflectionon piety: whether we have attempted to givewhat is owed to our parents, our ancestors, thetown we grew up in, where we come from. It isa debt that cannot ever be rightly balanced orrepaid. With this in mind, perhaps we can keepthe covenant which Luke could not. As student,when we begin to be taken away from home forlonger and longer stretches from when we firstdepart, as we look for internships and, finally,jobs after college, it is a reminder which couldnot be more relevant. Georgetown would dowell to include a copy of this poem along withevery acceptance letter.

Matthew McKillip is a senior in the GeorgetownCollege of Arts & Sciences studying English.

a Matthew McKillip


I had been long in love with Rainer MariaRilke’s poetry before discovering Letters toa Young Poet. A collection of ten exquisite

letters written between 1902 and 1908, it is per-haps ironic that Rilke never intended thesebeautiful letters for publication, letters whoseastounding and inspired prose has nonethelessreminded countless readers, especially those inthe throes of youth, of what it means to yearn, towonder, to love.

The recipient of the Austrian poet’s letterswas a nineteen year old Franz Kappus, a youngstudent at the Military Academy in Vienna, theinstitution Rilke had himself attended someyears earlier. Seeking the literary advice of thepromising poet, who had yet to pen what wouldbe his most substantial works , Kappus sentRilke a few poems, asking for feedback andguidance. A deeply heartfelt and intimate corre-spondence between these men developed,though they had never met in person. In 1929,three years after Rilke’s death, Kappus submit-ted his collection of the poet’s letters for publica-tion as Letters to a Young Poet.194

One of the most significant poets to write inthe German language and, arguably one of themost artistic and sensitive minds to have putpen to paper, Rilke was seriously contemplativeand deeply emotional. His artistic capacity

impressed upon him so personally that it perme-ated every part of his existence, an interaction hetells Kappus is necessary for the organic creationof art. In his introduction, Stephen Mitchell saysof the often tormented artist, “He was dealingwith an existential problem opposite from theone that most of us need to resolve: whereas wefind a thick, if translucent, barrier between selfand other, he was often without even thethinnest differentiating membrane.”195 It wasperhaps this fluidity between Rilke and theworld that enabled him to talk of life with a rarekind of authority that nevertheless staved offdidacticism, especially in Letters to a Young Poet.Whether because they attended the same uni-versity or were both poets or, simply, were bothlonging, one gets the feeling while readingRilke’s letters that he might be addressing ayounger version of himself.

Central to Rilke’s advice for Kappus onbecoming a poet is the exhortation to seek soli-tude. According to Rilke, the only way to fullyunderstand and cultivate one’s art – which is acreative act – is to be isolated. Yet, perhaps iron-ically, the trope of solitude that infuses Rilke’srhetoric does nothing to diminish the closenesshe seems to feel, both with Kappus and with thehuman experience of love more broadly. Inanother work, Rilke remarked:


To Yearn,To Wonder, To Love: A Review of Letters to a Young Poet, by Rainer Maria Rilke

Kate Bermingham

THE PARLOR

Once the realization is accepted that evenbetween the closest human beings infinitedistances continue, a wonderful living sideby side can grow, if they succeed in lovingthe distance between them which makes itpossible for each to see the other wholeagainst the sky.

For Rilke, constantly conscientious of the lim-its of ephemeral man before eternal divinity,solitude was a human necessity that did not pre-vent love or friendship, but in fact facilitated it.By revealing human individuality to ourselvesand others, solitude fostered recognition of thesimultaneous uniqueness and unity characteris-tic of man and crucial for his social interaction.

Of the myriad of philosophical topics onwhich Rilke counsels his friend, my unequivocalfavorite is his advice on reading great literature.Telling Kappus of the joys that await a perusal ofthe poetry of Jens Peter Jacobson, a Danishwriter, Rilke says:

A whole world will envelop you, the happi-ness, the abundance, the inconceivablevastness of a world. Live for a while inthese books, learn from them what you feelis worth learning, but most of all love them.This love will be returned to you thousandsupon thousands of times, whatever yourlife may become – it will, I am sure, gothrough the while fabric of your becoming,as one of the most important threadsamong all the threads of your experiences,disappointments, and joys.196

Little more needs to be said about this passage. Itis the description of its own effect on the reader.

Rilke’s letters are pregnant with heartbreak-ing poignancy and honest emotional insight. Hisstatements are often sweepingly general,unequivocal, and even at times polemic. Andyet, he paints the human heart with such com-pelling simplicity that seems impossible to con-tradict. Without pretension, he orients Kappus –and all subsequent readers – towards the mostimportant human task: love. “For one humanbeing to love another human being: that is per-haps the most difficult task that has beenentrusted to us, the ultimate task, the final testand proof, the work for which all other work ismerely preparation.”197 Not politics, nor money,nor art, nor even goodness – but love, an actionthat requires the embrace of another, is man’shighest calling, according to Rilke. He gives nostatistics, provides no logical progression, andcites no formal studies in making his truth-claim. He does not need to, for he lived deeplyenough to speak for humanity.

His avid correspondence with Kappus exem-plifies the poet’s personal dedication to love. Ingiving freely of his time and his most intimatethoughts, he was instrumental in Kappus’ devel-opment – as an artist and a man. So, althoughRilke makes clear the necessity of solitude andthe irreconcilable distances between people, hisincredible correspondence demonstrates that thegap can be partially bridged. Ultimately, Rilkeseems to conclude in his Letters to a Young Poetthat we fundamentally need each other in orderto understand ourselves.

Kate Bermingham is a senior in the College of Arts &Sciences studying Government and English.

a Kate Bermingham


O bject: Student flyer promoting a rallyin 1969 to protest the District’s plan tobuild the Three Sisters Bridge over

the Potomac. The headline of the flyer reads“Smash the 3-Sisters Bridge and has an illustra-tion of a fist emerging from the water, destroy-ing a bridge.

This student flyer protesting the constructionof the Three Sisters Bridge was produced anddistributed on the Georgetown campus by agroup called the District of Columbia StudentCommittee on the Transportation Crisis(DCSCTC). The head office of this organizationwas located at 1730 New Hampshire Ave., N.W.,Apt. 103, Washington, D.C. with phone numbers667-8941 and 234-6664.198 It was an organizationestablished with a strong sense of social justicewith the purpose of encouraging united com-munity action for the “self determination andhome rule—the right of the people to make deci-sions on all matters which effect their communi-ty—”199 upon which many people had, obvious-ly, felt to be unconstitutionally infringed.DCSCTC neither originated from Georgetown,nor was it comprised of only Georgetown stu-dents; it incorporated students from various

schools around the D.C. area and had been affil-iated with a larger committee called theEmergency Committee on the TransportationCrisis.200 The activities in which DCSCTC hadmainly engaged were to publicize the issue ofthe Three Sisters Bridge to college students, toencourage students’ active participation inprotests and rallies based on campus, and to, materially, sponsor those activities.201 At least three schools—Georgetown, GeorgeWashington, and American Universities—can beidentified by some pieces of evidence left in theirschool archives as the ones whose students haddefinitely participated in the activities of theorganization. On page 6 (six) of the October 17th,1969 issue of The Eagle, student newspaper of theAmerican University, there is a brief mention ofa student protest in which not only studentsfrom American, Georgetown, and GeorgeWashington Universities participated, but alsoleaders from DCSCTC and the EmergencyCommittee on the Transportation Crisis. In addi-tion to this, a librarian of George WashingtonUniversity had informed me that she found abrief record of a visit by Matthew Andrea, a chairman of DCSCTC, to the George



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Washington campus. These materials verify thefact that students from these three universitieshad a close connection with DCSCTC and thatstudent activity had been deeply engaged in thecommitments of DCSCTC. I have also searchedother universities’—Howard University andThe Catholic University of America—archivesbut could not find evidence which demonstratesany connection or activity related to DCSCTC.While one cannot make a hasty conclusion ofexcluding the influence and activity of DCSCTCoutside of Georgetown, American, and GeorgeWashington, the safe conclusion would be thatthe only campuses in which student activismhad a close tie with DCSCTC in any significantdegree were limited to these three universities.

I. The Context

The number 210-4 on the flyer indicates that thematerial came into the archive before 1970. Ithad more than enough reason to be preserved inthe archive because the issue of the Three SistersBridge was a very heatedly debated topic whichalmost turned the D.C. area upside down; fur-thermore, among the three most activelyengaged schools—Georgetown, GeorgeWashington, and American—Georgetown wasthe “kernel” of the student activism, whose stu-dents most enthusiastically took part in a signif-icant role throughout the whole issue. I conduct-ed a written interview with a Georgetown alum-nus (the husband of current professor, MonicaMaxwell, in ENFL (spell out entire abbreviation)Department of Georgetown!) who was a fresh-man at Georgetown in 1969, and who clearlyremembers how numerous people had heatedlydebated about this issue. He had respondedthat, not only students from GeorgetownUniversity, but also residents from Georgetown,other areas in Washington D.C., Virginia, andMaryland all often gathered together andplanned various kinds of events and demonstra-

tions which voiced their objections to the ThreeSisters Bridge. This fact can be supported bynumerous newspaper articles which dealt withprotests and rallies against the construction atthat time. In The Washington Post article, “BridgeFoes Vow to Fight” on November, 11, 1969, writ-ten by Paul W. Valentine, the large presence ofGeorgetown students appears in the phrase “sofar more than 150 people (mostly students fromGeorgetown University) have been arrestedwhile demonstrating at the construction site.”Another article of The Washington Post onOctober, 14, 1969 written by Lance Gay, statedthat “about 200 college-age men and women,some with children, many from the Georgetownarea and many from Georgetown Universitymarched onto the construction site.” The signifi-cance I found in this energetic student activismfrom Georgetown is that it was, indeed, in everysense, a true “student” activism movement start-ed, organized, promoted, and executed, I wouldeven say, exclusively, by student leadership. Theissue of Three Sisters Bridge was too big and sig-nificant to be ignored by school administratorsand faculty members at that time; however, theletters from President R.J. Henle, S.J. and FatherJoe Burke (S.J)? clearly show that the Universityhad, basically, refused to employ any substantialmeans and to be involved with the issue byexpressing either side, thus totally leaving theissue to individual students and student bodydiscretion. In his letter to the whole universitycommunity on November, 6, 1969, the Presidentsaid that, “it is neither proper nor possible forme to commit the University as a corporate enti-ty to an institutional position on this issue” andon November, 25, 1969, Father Joe Burke alsoissued his agreement with this president’s neu-tral position by encouraging the President toavoid taking an official position or joining insuites. The University did not take an “oblivi-ous” position on the issue; it actually held many

a Sye Myung Kim


forums and tried to publicize the issue under thePresident’s counsel. However, the evidenceshows the University’s general reluctance andunwillingness to go beyond the role of “passiveinformer,” a point which makes the demonstra-tions from Georgetown especially more valuableand exemplary as a true manifestation of stu-dent activism.

II. The Contents

Some pieces of evidence, dated before the actualexecution of the street march on noon, Sunday,November 16th, suggest that the protest was acarefully planned and organized one with anexpectation of gathering large crowds of people.The Washington Post article, “Bridge Foes Vow toFight” on November 11th, 1969, written by PaulW. Valentine, mentions Matt Andrea’s state-ment that the Georgetown University studentsplanned a “much larger” sit-in at the buildingsite and that a mass march up K Street to theconstruction site was being planned. In additionto this, under the Sunday section of the shortadvertisement corner of The Washington Postissued on November 15th, 1969, there is a briefnotification and reminder of the “march toprotest construction of the Three Sisters Bridge.Marchers will gather at Georgetown Universityand go to construction site of the bridge.” Themarch mentioned here is definitely referring tothe upcoming one on the following Sunday, thesame with the one we are working on right now.Through all these indications of thorough pre-paredness expressed in major newspapers, onecan see the degree of seriousness which peopleand students showed to their commitment. As apart of preparation done on the Georgetowncampus, a huge amount of around 100,000leaflets was distributed on the Georgetown cam-pus as an attempt to publicize the issue andgather crowds.202 I was able to find this numberin another meeting announcement flyer pre-

served in the Georgetown archives. The flyerwas informing about the time and location (7:30,Thursday, Nov 13th, 1969 at Gaston Hall) of ameeting held by DSCTC for the arrangement ofthe march on Sunday and was written on as“100,000 leaflets must be distributed this Fridayand Saturday at the marches and rallies toadvertise the Three Sisters issue and the rallyschedule for Sunday the 16th.”

One important discovery I made about theactual implementation of this carefully plannedand prepared protest on Sunday, the 16th, wasthat it was not carried out according to its origi-nal plan. Several pieces of evidence, whichreport the development of the protest, indicatemany missed steps, resulting in the ambitiously-proposed march as neither mass nor non-vio-lent. First of all, despite its active involvement inthe preparation of the scheduled march,DCSCTC and other freeway opponents, largesponsors of the Georgetown campus rallies,actually asked the crowd of about 500 peopleinitially gathered at the front gates on Sundaythe 16th, to refrain from going to street march-es.203 This is a very perplexing point about whichI could not find the exact relevant or reasonableanswer. Why did they suddenly decide not toadvance the carefully scheduled street rally forwhich they had produced pamphlets, advertisedin newspapers, and held meetings? Why didthey have to cancel the plan right on the spot,not beforehand? It would be most ideal if we areable to reach the material which testifies a per-spective from DCSCTC; however, unfortunately,even the detailed Washington Post article, issuedon November, 17, 1969, just mentions the factthat the DCSCTC decided on the cancelation, orI should say, the big alteration, of the street rallyon the very day, but does not explain how theyhad reached such a decision. Following theadvice of their sponsors, most people, 300 out of500, did comply and leave, but about “200 mili-

Georgetown University, the “Kernel” of Student Activism in the 1960s and 1970s a


tants and an assortment of hangers-on andcuriosity seekers left the campus.”204 One can seehere, not only a significantly shrunken size ofcrowds, but also how the components of partici-pants had changed from the seriously commit-ted to “hangers-on or curiosity seekers.” Thesecond significantly altered aspect of the protestwas its development and the course taken.Originally, the protesters had planned to gatherin front of the Georgetown University frontgates, march down O Street, Wisconsin Avenue,and K Street to the construction site and to dothe sit-in protest at the construction site.205

However, the supporters and participants in theprotests were not the only ones who wereinformed of the event in advance; the policewere also aware of the scheduled mass rally and,consequently, they dispatched a large number ofofficers to the Georgetown areas and prepared toblock the proceeding.206 Thus, instead of march-ing down the streets and heading to the con-struction site, the protesters were just spread tothe small alleys in the Georgetown neighbor-hood, formed small circles, and did their sepa-rate protests, for example, by setting a fire in atrashcan.207 Some of them proceeded to the KeyBridge and blocked the traffic there, althoughthey were forced to scatter before long.208 Onething is sure—they had never even reached theconstruction site.

Considering the large presence of the policeforce, we can make a reasonable hypothesis ofthe aforementioned, seemingly incomprehensi-

ble, decision by DCSCTC. It is highly likely thatDCSCTC had gathered the information that amass police force would be dispatched and,thus, would have reached a decision that massprotest against a large-scale police force wouldbe both ineffective and too dangerous. A quoteby Richard Gilfillan, a student committeespokesman, spoken to the protesters that “if youwant a riot, go on down to Wisconsin Avenueand have it, but a riot isn’t going to do anygood”209 strongly supports this hypothesis. Thisassumption also helps to explain the relativelysmall number of initially-gathered crowd mem-bers at the front gates of Georgetown. Of course,500 people were not a small number; however,in consideration of the efforts taken (100,000leaflets in Georgetown campus alone!) and timeput forth for this rally, the number of 500 seems,inexplicably, too small. This is probably because,first being informed about the cancelation of themarch, the people from DCSCTC and largercommittees and organizations, who more oftenthan not always joined and led the actualprotests and rallies, had not joined the initialgathering at Georgetown. Thus, subtracting thenumber of people from outside the Georgetownarea, the number of 500 only includesGeorgetown students, nearby residents, andsome curiosity seekers.

Sye Myung Kim is a junior in the GeorgetownCollege of Arts & Sciences studying History andGovernment.

a Sye Myung Kim



I Founding and Purpose

On February 22, 1830, the Philodemic Society wasborn, appropriately on the birthday of GeorgeWashington.210 Founded by Father James Ryder,Georgetown’s Vice President at the time, theSociety was formed to cultivate eloquence in thestudent body through practice of debate. Thename “Philodemic” was chosen for its Greekroots, meaning “a love of the people.” In a per-sonal letter, one of Philodemic’s original studentsstated that the Society was founded for the peo-ple, paralleling the United States government.211

Our motto, “eloquentiam libertati devinctam,”or “eloquence in defense of liberty,” embodiesthe ultimate purpose of the Philodemic.Originally, the Society was seen as a forum fordeveloping skills needed to watch over anddefend the nation. The Philodemic was not onlyabout rhetoric, but about protection of freedomand liberty through discussion of ideas. AsBenjamin Floyd Rush said in this 1836 com-mencement speech:

…So many who deem it a sacred duty tounravel the mysteries of science, and

instruct in the lessons of wisdom, and inthe midst of so many disciples of learn-ing…. Suffice it to say these were some ofthe inducements which urged us to associ-ate ourselves as a Philodemic Society.212

Mr. Rush lauded the natural inquisitivenessof Philodemicians, who lived for learning andthe exploration of ideas. The early Philodemicwas an elite institution, reserved for only the most intellectually curious and advancedstudents. In the first years of its existence,Philodemic was largely regarded as the “Societyof the College.”213

II. Structure of the SocietyDuring the first years of the Society, special orations were given at four important eventsduring the year: Commencement in June,Independence Day in July, Washington’sBirthday in January, and eulogies for departedmembers or men of note, like Andrew Jackson orthe Philodemic’s own Father Ryder. Speakersfor these special occasions were chosen by com-mittee, and they were often the most revered,senior members of the Society. Notable membersof society often attended these events, including

Eloquence in Defense of Liberty: A History ofthe Philodemic Society, 1830-1865.Part 1 of a 3 Part Series on the History of the Philodemic Society at Georgetown University

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congressmen and esteemed military officials.Indeed, President John Quincy Adams nearlyattended one debate, but the course of Philodemic history was changed forever by his driver, who failed to show up for workthat day.214

One special tradition, the Commemoration of the Landing of the Pilgrims in Maryland, was a flagship event for the Society. Beginning in1842, this full day of activities involved travelingto Maryland with other members of theGeorgetown community and creating a festiveslate of events for the community. Importantofficials were invited to preside over the day’sactivities, and a chosen Philodemician wouldgive a speech.215 At this event, Philodemicianscould expect to hear “The Philodemic March,”composed specifically for us in 1854 by Pedro A.Duanas.216 This event was particularly importantto the Catholic community, because it was the only commemoration ceremony for thelanding of the first Catholics in the U.S. This cel-ebration demonstrates Georgetown’s essentialleadership as a Catholic university at this time in history.

In its early years, the Philodemic Societyplayed a much greater role in everyday life thanit does today. Meeting between two and threetimes per week, the Society combined businessmeetings and more informal debates into onesession. These meetings were called to order bythe President, who was usually a faculty mem-ber, or the Vice President, who was a studentrepresentative. Attendance was required, andfines were imposed upon late or absent mem-bers. Philodemic meetings were also subject tothe will of Georgetown’s governing prefects.Once, this tension even resulted in a Philodemic-led revolt of the student body.

III. RevoltOne Sunday night in 1850, the Philodemic want-ed to hold a special meeting after study hours.When a prefect refused the meeting privileges,the Society disregarded his instruction and metas planned. As a consequence for their blatantdisrespect, the prefect suspended their late nightstudying privileges and forbade them frommeeting for a month. After protesting this pun-ishment with a petition to the rector and beingrejected, the Philodemicians spurred revolt inthe student body. Students began hurling stones,exploding firecrackers, and protesting loudly oncampus. When the night of chaos came to aclose, three Philodemicians were expelled. One,Mr. Xavier Wills from Maryland, stayed on cam-pus and attempted to make a speech before thestudent body.

As soon as he began to speak, and studentswere promptly dismissed to their quarters – andthe true revolt began. As a body, the studentswent to the rector’s office, demanded redress,and were collectively expelled. Yelling andwhooping, the students stormed into the city.

Negotiations between campus administrationand the students continued for several weeks.The Washington Republic reported that a “for-eign professor has been tyrannizing over the stu-dents…enforcing the most humiliating anddemoralizing practices.” Several congressmenagreed to intercede on the students’ behalf.Finally, after writing several letters of petition tothe administration, students were allowed backon campus once they gave a formal apology forthe damage they had done.217

This anecdote is amusing and dramatic, but it is also an important reflection of thePhilodemic’s influence on student life.Philodemicians were not the only rebels – theytook many sympathetic, non-debating students

a Emma Green


with them as well. After only 20 years of exis-tence, Philodemic had become an organizationwith enormous influence over the student body.

IV. Conflict at the President’s ChairTo highlight even more drama in thePhilodemic Society, one can turn to a fatefulevening in 1859. Among many other topics con-cerning the mounting conflict with the South,including “Ought nullification be extended tothe states?” the Philodemic chose to debate“Should the South now secede?”218 The debatespanned several meetings and two weeks,betraying the high emotions and strong opin-ions surrounding the topic. At the end of twoweeks, a victory for the affirmation was won –the Philodemic decided that the South shouldsecede. When the Vice-President made a dis-paraging comment about the South upon theannouncement of the verdict, a member fromMississippi sprang at him, starting a brawl onthe floor of the Philodemic. Members fromNorth and South began attacking one another;the violence finally escalated so much thatFather James Clark, the current President of thePhilodemic, had to put out the lights to stop thefighting. As punishment, the President of theUniversity, John Early, banned all further meet-ings of the Philodemic for that year.

This incident later led to the a new line in theAppendices of the Constitution, which states inthe House Rules that no one shall approach thePresident’s chair during the debate.

V. Odd traditions – toasts and topicsBecause the Society met several times everyweek, their topics were narrow in focus, requir-ing in-depth knowledge on a range of subjects.Many topics were historical and often pitted twogreat individuals against each other, such as onthe question of “Whether Napoleon Bonaparteor General Washington was the greater man.”219

While many original debate topics would beirrelevant today, a surprising number still poseinteresting challenges, such as “That her unionwith England may be detrimental to Ireland”220

and “Is civilization more affected by time thanby a few select individuals?”221 Many contempo-rary Philodemicians would appreciate theCommencement topic from 1852, which assertedthat “Socialism is an enemy more dreadful thanvandalism.” Some topics also seem slightlyridiculous now, such as an earnest discussion ofwhether the female mind is as “susceptible tocultivation as the male.”222

The Philodemic had a strong tradition of giv-ing toasts after special debates; these often last-ed for quite a while, as members were free tochime in with unlimited toasts after some tradi-tional statements were made. Some toastsshowed up consistently, such as celebrations of Washington, the Founding Fathers, theDeclaration of Independence, and the military;these are similar to our traditional Merrick toastsgiven today. Interestingly, the Irish and the Poleswere often referenced; this may indicate strongpatterns in the ethnic origins of Society.However, some curious toasts occasionallyappeared, catering specifically to the event orthe times. One particularly strange toast fromJuly 14th, 1844 was “to Oregon – may the wretchwho would refuse to fight for his country beflayed alive, anointed with honey, and set on thehead of a hornet’s nest.”223

VI. How to make a great speech, nineteenth century styleSpeeches during the first three decades of the Philodemic Society were similar in manyways, and were actually not that different from the speeches of today’s society. WhilePhilodemicians met several times a week forinformal debates and meetings, they often gaveformal orations at big events for the Society and

Eloquence in Defense of Liberty: A History of the Philodemic Society, 1830-1865. a


the greater community. These speeches werealways lengthy, sometimes spanning more thanan hour.

To be truly eloquent and fit the 19th centurynorm of impassioned oratory, early Philodemicspeeches had to include several components. Tobegin, the orator had to thank the society pro-fusely for letting him speak, declaring himselfunworthy in every possible way and apologiz-ing in advance for the terrible speech he wasabout to give. This self-deprecation went on forseveral minutes, and afterwards the oratorplunged into his topic. Many speeches celebrat-ed specific holidays, such as Washington’sBirthday or Independence Day, so oratorsincluded the grandest patriotic imagery possi-ble. The Founding Fathers were men who“loomed like mist through the ages,”224

Americans were “the freest, the best, the chosenpeople of God,” and Washington’s name wasmost likely out of all to “hold the place whereangels assigned it in the Archives of Eternity.”225

Flowing, patriotic imagery was not enough,however. Without Latin quotes, appeals toancient Romans and Greeks, and frequent refer-ences to history, speakers could never haveengaged their classically-educated audiences.At this time in Georgetown’s curricular history,the College placed strong emphasis on classicalstudies. As a result, Philodemic speeches were

often inundated with appeals to the ancients.During the 1840 commencement address by Mr.Daniel C. Digges, one paragraph alone con-tained two Latin quotes and references toDionysus, Cicero, Dante, Tasso, Milton,Shakespeare, Raphael, Titian, Phidias andPraxiteles.226 Religious references were also quitecommon, indicating the strong Catholic identityof the Society and Georgetown in these early years.

For all the similarities and differences in ora-tory habits, the Society’s aim has certainlystayed consistent throughout the years. Mr. P.P.Morriss said it well during his Farewell Addressof Washington speech in 1836:

…Let eloquetia libertati devincta [sic] beyour watch word through life, not the cold,insignificant collection of words withoutmeaning, or thoughts without elevation, orfluency without interest…. That eloquencewhich comes from the heart…. let such bethe eloquence you would aim at. Ponderon the relics of the orators who are past,imbibe their spirit and their zeal, theirenergy and their patriotism. 227

Still today, we hold these same virtuous goalsin the Philodemic Society. Our pursuit of eloquence in defense of liberty is just as pure asin 1836, and our words are just as powerful.

a Emma Green


Emma Green is a junior in the College of Arts & Sciences studying Government and Arabic. She is also a student in the Social & Political Thought Program.

W hat should be the end of a collegeeducation today? For too many, thegoal is simply a fancy document to

place in a frame on the wall of one’s office. Father John Carroll, S.J. articulated his vision

for education in the “Proposals for establishingan academy at George-town Patowmack-River,Maryland” distributed in 1787. Although little-remembered at Georgetown today, this docu-ment is in many ways Georgetown’s mostimportant document in that it is Carroll’s visionfor Georgetown’s purpose.

Carroll explains at the very outset of hisbroadside:

The Object of the proposed Institution is, tounite the Means of communicating Sciencewith an effectual provision for guardingand improving the Morals of Youth. Withthis View, the SEMINARY will be superin-tended by those, who, having hadExperience in similar Institutions, knowthat an undivided Attention may be givento the Cultivation of Virtue, and literaryImprovement; and that a System ofDiscipline may be introduced and pre-served, incompatible with Indolence andInattention in the Professor, or with incorri-gible Habits of Immorality in theStudent.Needless to say, this view of educa-tion is not exactly the most widely-heldview held at most elite colleges in the U.S.

today. Rather, the collegiate system general-ly emphasizes knowledge and little else. Inreality, this belief is completely backwards.

We live in an age of moral ambiguity and, asFather Edmund A. Walsh, S.J. once put it, atime when men are “encouraged to have lightopinions on everything and firm faith in noth-ing—except in the impossibility of faith in any-thing.”228 At many institutions of higher educa-tion around the world any discussion of faith,morality, virtue, or any system of discipline ishighly unfashionable, but being unfashionableis nothing new within Georgetown’s history.During the last decade of the eighteenth centu-ry, anti-Catholic sentiment led passersby tohurl stones at Father Francis Neale, S.J., a two-time President of Georgetown and the first pas-tor of Holy Trinity Church, in the streets ofAlexandria.229 Similarly, Father James Ryder,S.J., a legendary President of Georgetown, wason two occasions pelted with rocks in thestreets of DC around the middle years of thenineteenth century.230

Father Walsh gave his own description as tothe proper realization of education in a 1924Baccalaureate Sermon at Georgetown: “[T]heultimate achievement, the finest flower ofEducation, is Character.”231 This emphasis oncharacter promotion is now largely forgotten atelite higher-educational institutions, and wehave witnessed its consequences. As an exam-



Eric Wind

THE OBSERVATORY

ple, think about a few of the public figuresbrought low by sex scandals and their educa-tional affiliations: Tiger Woods (Stanford), EliotSpitzer (Princeton and Harvard), and BillClinton (Georgetown, Oxford, and Yale).

Later in that Baccalaureate Sermon, FatherWalsh told the graduates, “Character, to whichboth Learning and Pedagogy are deemed inthis institution to be ancillary, is the keystone ofthe arch which Georgetown University hasever aspired to erect in the souls of her sons, asher best contribution to human betterment…Instruction, Information, Knowledge, Wisdom,

Character. But, the greatest of these is Characterwhereon rest the pillars of the Temple.”232

The need for men and women of character isof as great of an importance now as it ever hasbeen. Hoyas would do well to remember FatherCarroll’s belief that education is not completewithout the “Cultivation of Virtue.” For whatshall it profit a man, if he shall gain the wholeworld, and lose his own soul?233

Eric Wind is a 2009 graduate of the Edmund A.Walsh School of Foreign Service and former Editor-in-Chief of Utraque Unum.

a Eric Wind


I hold the reins of an elite, private universi-ty. I carry the responsibilities of the thou-sands of undergraduates at the Harvard’s,

Princeton’s, and Georgetown’s – those who haveascended to the peak of the American “merito-cratic mountain,” and now look to my institu-tion for direction for that flustered first month,for those incredible four years, for the rest oftheir lives. I have no budgeting constraints, nomeddling Board of Trustees, no limits to myvision of the perfect institution of higher learn-ing. Today, I am the Scholastic God, and my goalis to restructure the university into a more per-fect form.

The education I am concerned with now isnot of the average university, but of the top pri-vate colleges and universities in the country theminds and characters of the students at suchinstitutions have demonstrated their intentionsof pursuing academic excellence, and have thuswon themselves admission to an institution thatpromotes such excellence. By focusing on theundergraduate years, I will thus aim to shapetheir minds and characters in such a way as tolay down a sound foundation for the rest oftheir lives, particularly instilling in them a pas-sionate sense of humanity, duty, and action.This will be a school dedicated to educating thewhole person – mind, body, and soul. I expectevery kid who walks through my classroomsand hallways to graduate as flourishing andpowerful men and women with sharp mindsand even sharper characters – who know what

it means to strive towards human flourishing,towards eudaimonia, and who hold an elevatedhuman spirit.

These qualities that are central to an educa-tion of the person seem completely lost and outof place in the modern scholastic system. Ashighlighted by David Brooks in “TheOrganization Kid” and Walter Kirn in “Lost inthe Meritocracy,” the students currently study-ing at the elite universities are exceptionallybright, but they are lost in system that piles onaccomplishment after accomplishment. Everyaward and every top prize is simply a stepping-stone onto the next award and accomplishment.Our heroes today are no longer adored for theirexcellence of character, but because they are our“hired mercenaries” or because they earn anexorbitant paycheck and hold tremendouspower. By this logic, the contemporary college isjust another step on the way to a five, six, seven-figure paycheck, or a regular spot in the newspa-per and television headlines, or maybe evenone’s own Wikipedia page. This aimless journeyfor more and more accomplishments and mate-rial wealth transforms the university – an insti-tution with one clear purpose – into the multi-versity, an institution with no real goal. At thevery foundation of this scholastic system lies notonly a materialistic and base striving for honorand recognition, but also a life that is painfullydeficient, unfulfilling, and purposeless.

Thus the main obstacle to a college that trulydevelops and builds men and women of



Timothy Tsai

THE OBSERVATORY

admirable human spirit and intellectual drive isthis materialistic and base culture. My collegewill not fall in line with the other multiversitiesthat have adopted this utilitarian ideal of educa-tion for Progress and education for an eternalaccumulation of wealth. Students must grasp theNewman notion of Knowledge as an end untoitself. Thus the curriculum would be structuredaround a core of the humanities – philosophy,theology, history, literature, and art. Only throughan education that defines the human conditionwill students be ready and willing to tie them-selves to the ultimate questions that have doggedhumanity for its entire existence and come todefine it. The college must also recognize theimportance of life outside the classroom, which inmany ways is just as influential in the creation ofhigher minds and characters. It must be struc-tured in a way that gives enough freedom to thestudents to grow toward human flourishing asindividuals and friends, yet must also be direc-tive enough to assert its goals. To this end, a resi-dential – almost fraternal – college system will beinstituted to provide students with a culture ofself-improvement and to surround young stu-dents with dynamic mentors and role models.From these structural changes will rise a studentbody that does not subscribe to the passionlessideals of the “Organization Kid,” nor the sordid-ness of the money and glory chaser.

As endorsed by both Cardinal Newman andAnthony Kronman, the key to opening a mindup to the eternal human questions and to mold-ing a correct character lies in the study of thehumanities. Newman describes knowledge as acomprehensive, all-encompassing whole.However, only the humanities, the subjects thatwould apply to a liberal education, hold the dis-tinction of being intrinsically good and valuable.While science and mathematics pursue an end –namely Progress – the liberal arts are an endunto themselves. They are beautiful. They existas a human end. Through the study of history,literature, and most notably, philosophy and

theology, one binds together all the differentbranches of Knowledge and begins to under-stand Truth.

Anthony Kronman echoes Newman as hesees the humanities as the only route towardsthe asking of the essential questions of humanexistence on the importance and meaning of life,on which everything is attached and dependent.234 Kronman sees a disturbing fatalism in the con-temporary scholastic system that is goadedonwards by the Research Ideal. The human con-versation is lost beneath the babble of scientificstatistics and mathematical progress. Thus weare left without any guidance toward the mean-ing of the human life and the meaning of ourown lives.235

I share Kronman’s belief that a student’s yearsat college are the time to bring up the undyingquestions about life.236 It seems foolish to see fourprecious years of education culminating in a jobon the trading floor, crunching numbers in acubicle. No one needs to leave home and payhundreds of thousands of dollars to learn to sit inan office, pecking away at a computer. Educationmust have a higher purpose.

My school will seek to address issues far moreimportant than simply how to write an expensereport. By instituting a Core Curriculum in phi-losophy, theology, and literature, students willunderstands what it means to live the Good Life.Freshman will begin with Socrates, Plato, andAristotle – solidifying a foundation in Westernthought. They will read St. Aquinas, touch uponthe Bible, and delve into Shakespeare. By touch-ing upon all of Western Humanities’ greatesthits, students will gain a sense of direction and aplace in history – where humanity came from,where it is now, and where it is going. Theseworks, which have molded the human mindand spirit for hundreds of years, will be given tothe students, so as to give shape and definitionto how they organize they lives, and to givethem an understanding of how humanityshould organize its lives.

a Timothy Tsai


Furthermore, the humanities are by defini-tion, a study of the human condition – of whatit means to be human. Cardinal Newman zeal-ously emphasized the fact that a comprehensiveunderstanding of the liberal arts is a compre-hensive understanding of humanity as a whole.A man who is well versed in the humanities istransformed into a gentleman – who carrieshimself with an elegance and grace. He under-stands the human condition, thus he acts withgrace and finds success in all he does.237 Eachstudent will attain this air of elegance and grace.Only by immersing themselves in the liberalarts will they will be able to grasp Aristotle’snotion of the Good Life as human flourishing.Newman’s grace and elegance translates intoAristotle’s “being-at-work of the soul in accor-dance with virtue.”238 This is the educationalgoal of my college – to develop men andwomen who have a full grasp of what it meansto be a human, to deeply embed Kronman’seternal questions into the mind and soul of eachstudent, thus giving rise to a higher, more spir-ited character.

Yet, to remain relevant in the contemporaryeducational world, as well as to provide thebasic training students may need upon enteringthe professional, political, or medical fields, myuniversity must remain vigilant in all areas ofstudy. This is not to say that its focus shifts tochurning out doctors or senators, for its focuswill always remain in the cultivation of correctcharacter. But should a promising student aspireto use his elevated abilities in a professionalfield, the institution must prepare him for suchan endeavor. The sciences will always remainrelevant and useful, but of course, the CoreCurriculum, with its towering presence on cam-pus as well as in the minds and spirits of its stu-dents will always remain the premier mission ofthe college. However, the spiritual and intellec-tual development of a person cannot be totallyaccomplished through study, the environmentin which one lives is of utmost important, as is

friendship, both of which are highlighted ascomponents of human flourishing by Aristotle.To this end, I turn from the spiritual to the phys-ical – to the campus itself.

The social life of the student and its role indeveloping a “higher” sort of being cannot beunderstated. As vilified by Tom Wolfe in I amCharlotte Simmons and understood by currentundergraduate students across the country, theculture that defines the undergraduate experi-ence is not the life of the mind. When the over-riding view of college from the students is a fouryear free pass to experiment however one pleas-es, the culture that develops will inevitablyembrace the baseness of glory-chasing.239 Thenotions of the good life and an elevated humanspirit are lost beneath an expectation that theundergraduate years are a chance to satisfyevery sort of carnal desire. True, the universitiesof today may not be Sodom and Gomorrah, butthey certainly are not Athens either.240

At the same time, I recognize that this newculture may seem to be a prohibition on youth-ful fun, but that is not the case. As outlined byAristotle in the Nicomachean Ethics, friendshipsplay an essential role in the development of thegood life, and friendships cannot simply bedeveloped through study and academic work.College is a place of intellectual stimulation andcharacter growth and there is no denying theimportance of substantial conversations aboutthe life of the mind. But there is also a place forthose nights spent among close friends amid ahaze of mood-altering materials, so long as theculture does not tip toward the materials andaway from cultivating lasting relationships withyour fellow students.

In Book Nine of his Nicomachean Ethics,Aristotle thoroughly details the place of friend-ship in the good life. He describes friendship as“the greatest of external goods.”241 Aristotle seeshuman beings as social creatures, thus friendsserve as outlets for his “being-at-work,” andthey also provide support, for “it is not easy by

A More Perfect University a


oneself to be at work continuously, but it is easi-er to be so among and in relation to others.”242

Without good friends, Aristotle sees eudaimoniaas impossible.

My college will aim to not only build charac-ters in line with eudaimonia, but also, will striveto build an environment and culture that pusheseach student to that highest of ideals. This goalsimply cannot be realized with the current dor-mitory system prevalent in most colleges. Byherding students, particularly freshman, intogiant dormitories, there is nothing stopping thestudents from falling into the baseness that char-acterizes the typical university. Immediatelyupon arriving at college, they are swept into thisnew environment and new culture with no realdirection – they are simply one huge horde leftto find their own way. They inevitably areattracted to the people with whom they live, butthey have no mentors in their lives to guidethem along the good life, and they have noassurance of developing the friendships neces-sary for living the good life

I propose dividing the college into smallerresidential houses much like those at Yale andCaltech, where freshman will live alongsidewith sophomores, juniors, and seniors. Beforethe beginning of the academic year, each incom-ing student will have the opportunity to visitand live in each of these residential housesbefore selecting the house in which they chooseto live. Each house will be comprised of roomsvery similar to a dormitory, but will have itsown community of students from all years andits own set of traditions and residential nuances.Furthermore, certain members of the faculty willalso be required to live with in the students inthese houses. By dorming seniors along withfreshman and giving the faculty a part in thesocial life of the students, this housing arrange-ment will deliver a much more organic socialatmosphere to the campus. Students will devel-op strong loyalties to their house, thus strength-ening their bonds with each other. The upper-

classmen and faculty member will provide aninformal guidance to the underclassmen, givingthem a sense of family and providing them withstrong role models and future friends. Cominginto college as an 18-year-old is difficult, butwith the smaller, more organic communities andthe guidance of upperclassmen and faculty whoare experienced in the college life as well as thegood life, this change does not have to be radicalor earth-shattering.

This residential system also plays a role in theshifting of the college paradigm. By immersingeach student academically in the humanities aswell as socially with peers and mentors of highcharacter and spirit, the culture of wanton“experimentation” will be dispelled. This is notto say that friendships cannot be developed andsolidified with a night of fun, but at the heart ofthe belief that college offers a free four-year passto “try new things” is simply the excuse to dothese “new things” without any sort of conse-quences. This is a disturbingly pitiful and baseview of college. Educationally, this school hasthe goal of creating young men and women wholive the good life. This goal must be reflected inthe social structure and atmosphere of the col-lege. The residential system makes this goalclear for each student from the first day theystep on campus. Immediately, they are given asense of direction from the older students andthe faculty – people who have an understandingof life on campus. They will be living alongsidethese older role models and they will be takingtheir meals with esteemed faculty members. It isthe hope that by providing a much more direct-ed environment, students won’t go through thetorture that characterized Charlotte’s firstsemester. She would not have been randomlythrown into a dorm with people she could notlive with, and she would not have lost herself inthe world of alcohol and sex. With a true groupof mentors and a much smaller community inwhich to live, students like Charlotte will besaved from her personal free fall. But more so,

a Timothy Tsai


they will be a part of a much different culture –one that is driven towards a much brighter andworthier goal.

These residential colleges will be built toreflect the college’s unifying mission to developspirited characters, and together with the archi-tectural structure of the campus, will not onlybe ascetically beautiful, but spiritually guidingas well. Each residential house will be unique,but each will share a commonality in the classi-cal style, with grand buildings reflecting a natu-ral order and instilling a sense of awe and won-der among the students. The college must bevisibly seen to be its own community – an intel-lectual and spiritual stronghold – “ineffablybeautiful and ineffably grand.”243 The architec-tural structure of an institution speaks for itspurpose. Only a campus built to reflect the highideals of its curriculum and of its students canpossibly fulfill such lofty ambitions. It mustprovide a sense of the majestic journey takingplace before them. Bland brick buildings cannotimpart such a feeling, but quadrangles bringingtogether nature and buildings, designed grandin scale yet beautifully proportioned, can con-vey the spirit that is meant to develop andthrive at this college.

Ultimately, after four years of studying at thisnew model for an undergraduate college, eachstudent who eventually ascends the stage toreceive his or her diploma will walk out into theworld with the grace and elegance expoundedby Cardinal Newman. They will have thor-oughly studied the liberal arts and asked theessential questions of humanity. They will havelived among fellow students in an environmentand culture designed to promote the formationof character and strong lasting friendships.They will fully grasp the meaning of the goodlife – of eudaimonia.

On the campuses of universities across thenation, such a culture that was so prevalent inthe early years of the 20th Century is suddenlyno longer there – students are turning away

from the formation of character and embracingthe chase of dollar bills and recognition.244 Thelife of the mind is lost. Even characters such asAdam Gellin, another of Wolfe’s creations,who demonstrate the power of intellect, do notpossess the moral fiber and spirit that such amind deserves. Adam flat out says, “we’reflaunting our enthusiasm for academics. We’reall out to get Rhodes scholarships.”245 For allhis intellect, Adam and students like him arenothing more than manifestations of Brook’sOrganization Kid. They are at college to seekglory through academic and intellectualaccomplishments, studying to win a prizerather than studying for the sake of gainingknowledge and building character. The currentstate of the university perpetuates this prob-lem by egging its students towards educationas accomplishments – viewing its graduates asproducts of an education rather than peoplewhom are shaped by an education.

This college’s mission is to cultivate men andwomen in the mold of Hobey Baker – a manwith an absolute sense of chivalry and heroicdignity. Hobey Baker, Princeton class of 1914,conducted himself with passion and class. Hewas an extraordinary hockey player, yet did notstrut around with the baseness that character-ized Treyshawn and André in I am CharlotteSimmons. He was admired for his character, forthat air of elegance and grace described byNewman, for being “the nearly faultless realiza-tion of the ideal of his age,” so much so thatmany of his classmates named their sons afterhim.246 This was a man with the rare strength ofcharacter that comes with a thorough and com-plete understanding of what it means to be ahuman. He was a modern day Achilles – a heroin his day.

Hobey Baker lived in a culture that was notobsessed with a continual desire to reach the 99th

percentile or chase fame and fortune. A univer-sity should seek to shape people and their spir-its rather than an accolade-winning, money-

A More Perfect University a


making machine. The spirit of Hobey Bakerembodies the character that will be developedafter a correct college education. Baker was aman of honor, duty, and courage. He heldstrong principles and he refused to compromisethem. He is the antithesis of the award-hoard-ing student that too often walks the halls of thenation’s universities. He was a gentleman, andwho also happened to have racked up plenty ofaccomplishments, such as the French Croix deGuerre as well as holding the namesake of theaward given to the best college hockey player inthe nation.247

Obviously, such changes in the scholastic sys-tem are far-fetched and do not seem to be com-ing anytime soon. Yet, for all the faults of thecurrent university system, it would be unfair toclaim that it categorically fails to foster realhuman growth in its students. Such an appreci-ation for one’s life and the lives of one’s friendsis definitely present in campuses nationwide,and students definitely recognize the impor-tance of pursuing rewarding passions aboveaimless material gains, yet the university systemis not geared toward such growth. A restructur-ing of the university is in order, and through it,parents, alum, and students alike will be able tosee the development of characters of extraordi-nary intellect, unwavering passions and princi-ples, and a steadfast duty to action.

This is what the ideal student is. This is whatthe ideal person should be. And this is the goalof a perfect college. At its core is a shift in thecultural paradigm and a return to the funda-mental principle of an education. An educationshould not be about the attainment of wealthand fortune, or a MasterCard to do whateveryou want. The time spent at college is a specialtime, and it should be reserved for the betteringof characters and the development of moral fiberand spirit. College is the ultimate mission of self-betterment, and it is simply not being realized at the majority of undergraduate colleges. Toachieve this goal, every piece of the college mustbe taken apart and reassembled to guide the stu-dents toward the good life, toward eudaimonia.By focusing the students on the essential ques-tions of humanity, putting them in communitiesthat are conducive to such growth, and instillingin them a sense of character, morality, andaction, this more perfect college doesn’t fill itsstudent’s minds with facts, but gives them acode by which to live. The perfect college has themost perfect of goals – to teach its students howto live well, to fully flourish as students, asadults, and as human beings.

Timothy Tsai is a sophomore in the GeorgetownCollege of Arts & Sciences.

a Timothy Tsai


The Forum

1 See James V. Schall, On the Unseriousness of Human Affairs (Wilmington: ISI Books, 2001).

2 Matthew Crawford, “The Case for Working With Your Hands,” New York Times, 24 May, 2009,MM36.

3 Eric Greitens, “The Importance of Practical Wisdom: Service-Learning and Liberal ArtsEducation,” Key Reporter, Phi Beta Kappa Society, Fall 2009, 6.

4 John Ranieri, Disturbing Revelation: Leo Strauss, Eric Voegelin, and the Bible (Columbia:University of Missouri Press, 2009).

5 See James V. Schall, “Sports and Philosophy,” The Mind That Is Catholic: Philosophical andPolitical Essays (Washington: The Catholic University of America Press, 2008), 251-60.

6 Saint Augustine, City of God, Trans. Henry Bettenson, (New York: Penguin Classics, 2003),205.

7 It may be objected that the proud do not seek anything outside of themselves, but it isprecisely their love of the nothingness that is themselves that they seek erroneously. Essentially,they seek to fill nothingness with more nothingness. Furthermore, they refuse to see thenothingness that literally embodies themselves.

8 Dante Alighieri, Purgatory, tr. Dorothy Sayers, (New York: Penguin Classics, 1955), Canto X,Line 139.

9 Dante Alighieri, Paradise, tr. Dorothy Sayers and Barbara Reynolds, (Baltimore, MD: PenguinClassics, 1976), Canto IV, Line 76.

10 Ibid., Canto I Line 3.

11 To clarify this point think of two bottles, the first is one liter, the second two liters. If bothare completely filled, they are still considered full, though the second has more liquid because it isbigger. Likewise, some in Paradise have more capacity to be filled, but everyone is completelyfulfilled.

12 For an example of a similar criticism and response, one can look to Natural Law ethics.New Natural Law was formed so that the ethical system of Natural Law could be embraced bysecular and humanist cultures. In New Natural Law an Aristotelian sense of flourishing hasreplaced the more traditional foundational principle of relationship with God.

13 Allan Bloom, The Closing of the American Mind. (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1987), 58.

14 Anthony T. Kronman, Education’s End: Why Our Colleges and Universities have Given Up on theMeaning of Life. (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2007), 113.


Endnotes

15 Bloom, 59.

16 Charles Krauthammer. “A Great Good Man.” Washington Post, 25 September, 2009.

17 Kronman, 27.

18 Ibid., 193.

The Chamber

19 Frank S. Meyer, “The Twisted Tree of Liberty,” Freedom and Virtue: The Conservative/Libertarian Debate, George W. Carey, ed., (Wilmington: ISI Books, 2004), 16-17.

20 Ibid,. 16.

21 Frank S. Meyer, “Freedom, Tradition, Conservatism,” In Defense of Freedom and Related Essays,(Indianapolis: Liberty Fund, 1996), 15-16.

22 Ibid,. 16-17.

23 Ibid,. 17-18 and Frank S. Meyer, In Defense of Freedom, In Defense of Freedom and Related Essays,(Indianapolis: Liberty Fund, 1996), 80-81.

24 Frank S. Meyer, “Libertarianism or Libertinism?” In Defense of Freedom and Related Essays,(Indianapolis: Liberty Fund, 1996), 183-186.

25 Frank S. Meyer, “Why Freedom?” In Defense of Freedom and Related Essays, (Indianapolis:Liberty Fund, 1996), 155-157 and Meyer, “Libertarianism or Libertinism?,” 184.

26 Frank S. Meyer, “In Defense of John Stuart Mill,” In Defense of Freedom and Related Essays,(Indianapolis: Liberty Fund, 1996), 164-169.

27 L. Brent Bozell, “Freedom or Virtue?” Freedom and Virtue: The Conservative/Libertarian Debate,George W. Carey, ed., (Wilmington: ISI Books, 2004), 35 and Meyer “In Defense of John StuartMill,” 168.

28 Edmund Burke, Reflections on the Revolution in France: And on the Proceedings in CertainSocieties in London Relative to that Event, ed. Conor Cruise O’Brien, (Penguin Books: New York,2004), 194-195.

29 Aristotle, Politics, 1253a, 37.

30 Russell Kirk, The Conservative Mind: From Burke to Eliot, (Washington, D.C: RegneryPublishing, Inc., 1986), 483.

31 Meyer, In Defense of Freedom, 47.

32 Ibid., 52, 90-92, 116-117 and 127

33 Ibid., 52 and 58-60.

34 Ibid., 127.

35 Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics, 1117b-1119b, 77-82.

Tocqueville Forum Endnotes a


36 Ibid., 1099b, 23.

37 Meyer, In Defense of Freedom, 126-127 and Bozell, 26-32.

38 Robert Nisbet, “Uneasy Cousins,” Freedom and Virtue: The Conservative/ Libertarian Debate.George W. Carey, ed., (Wilmington: ISI Books, 2004), 47-48.

39 Meyer, “Freedom, Tradition, Conservatism,” 24.

40 Murray N. Rothbard, “Frank S. Meyer: The Fusionist as Libertarian Manqué,” Freedom andVirtue: The Conservative/Libertarian Debate. Ed. George W. Carey. (Wilmington: ISI Books, 2004), 137.

41 Burke, 118 and Kirk 483.

42 Kirk, 483.

43 Meyer, “Why Freedom?” 155-156.

44 Thomas McPherson, Political Obligation (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1967).

45 Exceptions include Peter Steinberger, The Idea of the State (Cambridge: Cambridge UniversityPress, 2004) and Mark Murphy, “Surrender of Judgment and the Consent Theory of PoliticalObligation,” Law and Philosophy, 16: 115-43.

46 Richard Dagger, Civic Virtues: Rights, Citizenship, and Republican Liberalism (New York:Oxford University Press, 1997), p. 68.

47 John Horton, Political Obligation (London: Macmillan, 1992), p. 90.

48 John Rawls, “Legal Obligation and the Duty of Fair Play,” in Law and Philosophy, ed. S.Hook (New York: New York University Press, 1964), p. 9-10.

49 A.J. Simmons, Moral Principles and Political Obligations (Princeton: Princeton University Press,1979), p. 141.

50 Dagger, p. 72.

51 Richard Arneson, “The Principle of Fairness and Free-Rider Problems,” Ethics, 92: p. 9.

52 George Klosko, The Principle of Fairness and Political Obligation (Lanham, MD: Rowman andLittlefield, 1992), p. 87-88.

53 Klosko, p. 105.

54 Dagger, p. 74.

55 George C. Herring, From Colony to Superpower: U.S. Foreign Policy Relations since 1776 (NewYork: Oxford University Press, 2008), 596.

56 Ibid.

57 Ibid., 604-605.

58 Ibid., 605.

59 Painter, David S. “The Marshall Plan and Oil.” Cold War History 9 (May 2009): 6.

a Tocqueville Forum Endnotes


60 Steven W. Hook and John Spanier, American Foreign Policy Since WWII, (Washington D.C: CQPress, 2010), 36.

61 Harry S. Truman, Truman Doctrine, 12 March 1947.

http://www.americanrhetoric.com/speeches/PDFFiles/Harry%20Truman%20-%20Truman%20Doctrine.pdf

62 Melvyn P. Leffler, “The United States and the Strategic Dimensions of the Marshall Plan.”Diplomatic History 12 (July 1988): 277.

63 Hook and Spanier, American Foreign Policy since WWII, 53.

64 Ibid.

65 Ibid., 47.

66 Melvyn P. Leffler, “The United States and the Strategic Dimensions of the Marshall Plan.”Diplomatic History 12 (July 1988): 278.

67 Herring, From Colony to Superpower, 634.

68 Ibid.

69 Michael Schaller, “Securing the Great Crescent: Occupied Japan and the Origins ofContainment in Southeast Asia.” Journal of American History 69 (September 1982). 395.


71 Ibid., 637.

72 Ibid.

73 Ibid., 638.



76 Ibid., 645.



79 Ibid.

80 Ibid., 659.

81 Ibid.

82 Ibid.

83 Robert J. McMahon, “U.S. National Security Policy from Eisenhower to Kennedy.” In TheCambridge History of the Cold War, vol. 1. Edited by Melvyn P. Leffler and Odd Arne Westad.Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010. 4.



84 Ibid., 6.


86 McMahon, “U.S. National Security Policy from Eisenhower to Kennedy.” 8.

87 Ibid.


89 Painter, David S. “The Marshall Plan and Oil.” 6, 12-13.


91 Ibid., 673.

92 Nathan J. Citino, “Middle East Cold Wars: Oil and Arab Nationalism in U.S.-Iraqi Relations,1958-1961.” In The Eisenhower Administration, the Third World, and the Globalization of the Cold War,245-69. Edited by Kathryn C. Statler and Andrew L. Johns. Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield,2006. 248.

93 Melvyn P. Leffler, “National Security and U.S. Foreign Policy.” In Origins of the Cold War: AnInternational History, 2nd ed., 15-41. Edited by Melvyn P. Leffler and David S. Painter. London:Routledge, 2005. 17-18.


95 Citino, “Middle East Cold Wars.” 248, 249.


97 Odd Arne Westad, The Global Cold War: Third World Interventions and the Making of Our Times(New York: Cambridge University Press, 2005), 126.


99 Westad, The Global Cold War, 127.


101 Ibid., 683.

102 Ibid., 146.

103 Westad, The Global Cold War,146-148.


105 Ibid.

106 Westad, The Global Cold War, 137, 138.

107 Ibid.

108 Ibid., 139.





111 Ibid., 88-89.

112 Ibid., 90.

113 Ibid., 90.


115 Ibid., 719.

The Sanctuary

116 “The Future of the Catholic Church in America. Major Papers of the Virgil MichelSymposium,” The Virgil Michel Symposium. (Collegeville, Minnesota: Liturgical Press, 1991), 43.

117 Anne Y. Koester, “Liturgy and Justice. The 20th Century Social and Liturgical Movements inthe U.S.: Working out of a Common Vision,” 7 March 2007. EnVisionChurch. 24 October 2008<http://www1georgetown.edu/centers/liturgy/envisionchurch/3016.html>.

118 Franklin and Spaeth, Virgil Michel: American Catholic, 10.

119 Ibid., 178.


121 Rose B. Calabretta, Baptism and Confirmation: The Vocation and Mission of the Laity in theWritings of Virgil Michel (Rome, Italy: Gregorian University Press, 1998), 29.

122 Calabretta, Baptism and Confirmation, 29.

123 Ibid., 30.


125 Marx, Virgil Michel and the Liturgical Movement, 13.

126 Calabretta, Baptism and Confirmation, 36-38.

127 Ibid., 43.

128 Ibid., 47.




132 Ibid., 179.

133 Ibid.

134 Ibid., 50-51.



135 Ibid., 183-184.

136 Michel quoted in Marx, Virgil Michel and the Liturgical Movement, 182.


138 Madden, Introduction to “Serving the Lord with Justice” Koester, Anne Y. and BarbaraSearle, eds. The Scholarly Contributions of Mark Searle to Liturgical Renewal, 1.


140 All references to Nietzsche’s primary texts refer to his own numbered sections rather thanpage numbers. References to secondary sources cite page number.

141 Weaver Santaniello, ed., Nietzsche and the Gods. (New York: State University of New YorkPress, 2001), 1.

142 Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil: Prelude to a Philosophy of the Future. Trans. HelenZimmern. (London: Dover Publications, 1997), 18.

143 Gianni Vattimo, Dialogue with Nietzsche Essays, 1961-2000 (New York: Columbia UP, 2005),26.

144 Santaniello, 137.

145 Ibid., 159.

146 Ibid., 1.

147 Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil, 34.

148 Friedrich Nietzsche, On The Genealogy of Morality. Ed. Keith Ansell-Pearson. (Cambridge:Cambridge UP, 1990), 1:8.

149 Ibid., 2:24.

150 Ibid., 1:17.

151 Fredrick C. Copleston, “Foreground and Background in Nietzsche,” The Review ofMetaphysics (21.3), 1968, 508.

152 Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil, 1. Emphasis original.

153 E. E. Sleinis, Nietzsche’s Revaluation of Values a Study in Strategies (Urbana: University ofIllinois P, 1994), 94.


155 Alasdair MacIntyre, After Virtue (Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 1981),107.


157 Ibid., 10.

158 Gianni Vattimo, Nietzsche: An Introduction (Cultural Memory in the Present (New York:Stanford UP, 2002), 1.



159 Plato, The Republic, (New York: Barnes & Noble Classics, 2005), 338c.

160 Nietzsche, On The Genealogy of Morality, 2:11.

161 Niccolo Machiavelli, The Prince, (New York: Bantam Classics, 1984), 33.

162 Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil, § 197.

163 Machiavelli, The Prince, 36.

164 Eric Voegelin, “Nietzsche, the Crisis, and the War,” The Journal of Politics (6.2) May 1944,178.

165 Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil, § 195.

166 Friedrich Nietzsche, On The Genealogy of Morality, 1:8.

167 Weaver Santaniello, Nietzsche, God, and the Jews, (New York: SUNY Press, 1994), 93.


169 Ibid., 2:19.

170 Sleinis, Nietzsche’s Revaluation of Values a Study in Strategies, 14.

171 Mark 6:34.


173 MacIntyre, 111.

174 Charles Taylor, A Secular Age (Harvard University Press, 2007), 2.

175 Ibid., 3.

176 Christopher Hitchens, God is Not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything (Twelve Books:New York, 2007), 283.

177 Terry Eagleton, Reason, Faith, and Revolution (Yale University Press, 2009), 87.

178 Jürgen Habermas, ‘A Postsecular World Society? On the Philosophical Significance ofPostsecular Consciousness and the Multicultural World Society,’ an interview with EduardoMendieta, trans. Matthias Fritsch, p. 3. February 2010.

179 See Jacques Maritain, Bergsonian Philosophy and Thomism (New York: Philosophical Library,1954).

The Parlor

180 William Wordsworth, “Michael: A Pastoral Poem” Romanticism: An Anthology Ed. DuncanWu (Oxford, England: Blackwell Publishing, 2006), Line 43.

181 Ibid., Line 74-5.

182 Ibid., Line 160.




184 Ibid., Line 226-7.

185 Ibid., Line 279-80.





190 Ibid., Line 242-6.

191 Ibid., Line 474-5.

192 Ibid., Line 457-9.

193 Ibid., Line 390-1.

194 Rainer Maria Rilke. Letters to a Young Poet. 1st ed. New York: Vintage, 1986., v.

195 Ibid., xii.

196 Ibid., 17.

197 Ibid., 68.

The Cellar

198 Meeting Announcement Flyer by DCSCTC, GUA Varia Collection, B 12, F 219, Three SistersBridge, Georgetown University Library, Special Collections Research Center, Washington D.C.

199 Ibid.

200 William Sclight. “Nine Arrested in Clashes at Bridge Site.” Washington Post,21.October.1969.

201 Francis E. Kearns, “Sit-In at Georgetown.” The Commonweal. Volume LXXVIII, NO.4, April19, 1963.

202 Meeting Announcement Flyer

203 B.D. Colen. “Bridge Foes Protest, Plan March Sunday.” Washington Post, 20 October, 1969.

204 Paul W. Valentine. “Bridge Foes Vow to Fight.” Washington Post, 11 November, 1969.

205 Ibid.

206 Ibid.

207 Ibid.

208 Elizabeth Shelton. “Protest Bridges Wide Gulf.” Washington Post, 18 November, 1969.



209 Ibid.

210 John M. Daley, S.J., Georgetown University: Origin and Early Years (Washington: GeorgetownUniversity Press, 1957), 234.

211 Eric George, “The Cultivation of Eloquence at Georgetown College: A History of thePhilodemic Society from 1830-1890” in Swift Potomac’s Lovely Daughter, ed. Joseph Durkin, S.J.(Washington: Georgetown University Press, 1993) 103-105.

212 Georgetown University Archives, Philodemic Society Papers, Box 1, Folder 18, Address byBenjamin Rush Floyd 1836.

213 Georgetown University Archives, Philodemic Society Papers, Box 5, Folder 2, AmanuensisBook May 1854

214 John Quincy Adams, Memoirs of John Quincy Adams: Comprising Portions of His Diary from1795 to 1848 (Washington: J.B. Lippincott & Co., 1877).

215 Georgetown University Archives, Philodemic Society Papers, Box 5, Folder 12,Correspondence May 1855.

216 Duanas, Pedro A. “The Philodemic March.” 1854.

217 Robert Emmett Curran, S.J., Bicentennial History of Georgetown University (Washington:Georgetown University Press, 1993) 184-185, 219.

218 Georgetown University Archives, Philodemic Society Papers, Box 2, Folder 5, AmanuensisBook circa 1845.

219 See footnote 1

220 Georgetown University Archives, Philodemic Society Papers, Box 5, Folder 3, circa 1849.



223 Georgetown University Archives, Philodemic Society Papers, Box 3, Folder 11, Address byEugene Cummiskey July 4, 1844.

224 Georgetown University Archives, Philodemic Society Papers, Box 3, Folder 8, Address byWilliam Campbell 1841.

225 Georgetown University Archives, Philodemic Society Papers, Box 3, Folder 13, Address byProsper Landry 1846.

226 Georgetown University Archives, Philodemic Society Papers, Box 3, Folder 7, Address byDaniel Digges 1840.

227 Georgetown University Archives, Philodemic Society Papers, Box 1, Folder 19, Address byMr. P.P. Morriss, 1836



The Observatory

228 Edmund A. Walsh, S.J. “The Spiritual Aspect of Foreign Policy,” in The Catholic MindThrough Fifty Years: 1903-1953, ed. Benjamin L. Masse, S.J. (New York: The America Press, 1953 ),671.

229 J. Fairfax McLaughlin, College Days at Georgetown and Other Papers (Philadelphia: J. B.Lippincott Company, 1899), 213.

230 J. Fairfax McLaughlin, College Days at Georgetown and Other Papers (Philadelphia: J. B.Lippincott Company, 1899), 213.

231 Edmund A. Walsh, S.J., “Baccalaureate Sermon,” Georgetown College Journal LII, no. 9 (1924):444.

232 Edmund A. Walsh, S.J., “Baccalaureate Sermon,” Georgetown College Journal LII, no. 9 (1924):444.

233 Mark 8:36

234 Anthony T. Kronman, Education’s End: Why Our Colleges and Universities have Given Up onthe Meaning of Life. (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2007), 27.

235 Ibid., 257.

236 Ibid.

237 John Henry Newman, The Idea of a University (Binghamton, New York: Yale University,1996), 118.

238 Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics, 1099b25-7.

239 Tom Wolfe, I am Charlotte Simmons. (New York: Picador, 2004), 168.

240 Ibid., 87.

241 Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics, 1169b10.

242 Ibid., 1170a5-6.

243 Tom Wolfe, I am Charlotte Simmons, 9.

244 David Brooks, “The Organization Kid.”

245 Tom Wolfe, I am Charlotte Simmons, 412.

246 [Brooks, "The Organization Kid," 17.]

247 Brooks, “The Organization Kid.”



Welcome Week Discussion“Understanding the Core Curriculum”

September 8, 2010 — 4:00 PM to 5:00 PM Mark HenrieSenior Vice President and Chief Academic Officerat the Intercollegiate Studies InstituteMortara Center Conference Room

Roundtable“Constitutional Morality? A Constitution Day Roundtable”

September 17, 2010 — 4:00 - 6:00 PM Dr. Richard Hassing Professor of Philosophy at The Catholic Universityof AmericaDr. Peter LawlerDana Professor of Government and InternationalStudies at Berry College Dr. Jeffry MorrisonAssociate Professor of Government at RegentUniversityIntercultural Center Auditorium

Alumni Homecoming Lecture“The Digital Age: Great Promise and Great Peril”

September 23, 2010 — 6:30 - 8:00 PM Mark BauerleinProfessor of English at Emory University, Authorof The Dumbest Generation: How the DigitalAge Stupefies Young Americans andJeopardizes Our FutureMortara Center Conference Room

Roundtable“Economics at the Crossroads: A ForumRoundtable”

October 20, 2010 — 6:30 - 8:30 PMJohn MuellerFellow, Ethics and Public Policy Center, Author ofRedeeming Economics: Rediscovering theMissing ElementJohn Médaille

Author of Toward a Truly Free Market: ADistributist Perspective on the Role ofGovernment, Taxes, Health Care, Deficits, and MoreWith a response by Barry C. LynnDirector Markets, Enterprise, and ResiliencyInitiative The New America FoundationThis event was co-sponsored by The Society ofCatholic Social Scientists.Gonda Theatre, Davis Performing ArtsCenter, Georgetown University

Forum LectureHow the Federal Government is Trying toDestroy Your Liberal Arts Education

November 15, 2010 — 12:00 - 1:00 PMJohn Seeryhttp://www.politics.pomona.edu/seery.html,Professor of Politics at Pomona CollegeWhite Gravenor Hall, Room #108

Fifth Annual Carroll LectureCharles Carroll: A Classical-Christian Nexus inthe American Founding

November 18, 2010 — 7:00 - 8:30 PM Bradley BirzerRussell Amos Kirk Chair in American Studies,Hillsdale College, Author of American Cicero: theLife of Charles Carroll Copley Formal Lounge

Forum LectureChurch and State – Ever Separate?

December 8, 2010 — 6:00 - 7:3 0 PMRémi Braguehttp://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R%C3%A9mi_Brague,Professor of Philosophy and Co-director of theCenter for Research in the Tradition of ClassicalThought at the Université de Paris I—Sorbonne,and Professor of Medieval Arabic Philosophy at theLudwig-Maximilian University of MunichMortara Center Conference Room

Tocqueville Forum Events a


For more information on upcoming Tocqueville Forum events,please visit: http://government.georgetown.edu/tocquevilleforum

Tocqueville Forum Events

A Journal ofGeorgetown University’s

Tocqueville Forum on theRoots of American Democracy

VOLUME 4 ISSUE 1 FALL 2010

Featuring:

On the Being with Hands and Mind

Freedom, Suffering, and Realism in Dante

“A Losing Battle:” A Conversationwith George W. Carey

Also:

Traditionalism and Libertarianism: A Fusion of Convenience

Fair Play and Political Obligation

The Globalization of the Cold War

Social Justice and the Liturgy

A Feeling of Foreboding

The Passion of Lacking All Conviction

“God for Harry! England and Saint George!” AReview of Shakespeare’s Richard II and Henry V

“If From the Public Way You Turn Your Steps...” A Review of Michael: A Pastoral Poem

To Yearn, To Wonder, To Love: A Review of Lettersto a Young Poet, by Rainer Maria Rilke


Eloquence in Defense of Liberty: A History of the Philodemic Society, 1830-1865



Georgetown University Tocqueville Forum

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Featuring: On the Being with Hands and Mind Freedom