Lately I was watching an old favourite
British television series, “The Prisoner”, starring Patrick McGoohan. The series ran for a mere 17 episodes, ending
in 1968. In its time it was
ground-breaking, combining psychological drama with biting social commentary
and allegorical symbolism—perhaps a little too ground-breaking, which is why it
ended after a mere 17 episodes. McGoohan
had previously starred in the spy series “Danger Man” (shown in America under
the title “Secret Agent”), and viewers were looking for more of the same. They wanted another Danger Man with spy
gadgets and fist fights, not a Kafkaesque critique of society.
The series
featured McGoohan as someone who had suddenly resigned from his government spy
job. He was abducted and woke up in a
place called “the Village”, a self-contained community purporting to provide
its happy contented citizens with all they needed, but in fact was a political
prison where people like McGoohan were kept—a kind of up-scale luxurious
gulag. No one had any names there, but
simply numbers. McGoohan was Number
Six. The head administrator, replaced at
regular intervals, was Number Two. No
one ever saw Number One, though he ran everything. The series revolved around Number Six’s
attempts to resist indoctrination and to escape. Under the image of the Village the series offered
a critique of our own society, which depersonalizes and offers pleasure and
security in exchange for true freedom. I
only noticed much later that there was no church in the Village. The dead there were carried out to burial to
the accompaniment of a brass band, which only ever played marching songs.
Its
second episode was entitled, “Free for All” and featured Number Six running for
office in the Village—in particular, for the job of being Number Two. The current Number Two argued that lack of
political opposition was not good for their community: “These people don’t seem to appreciate the
value of free elections. They think it’s
a game.” Number Six, though sceptical
that anything could really change if he won, was persuaded to run in hopes of
changing the system and freeing other citizens.
The episode ends with him winning, but discovering that in fact the
election was indeed a sham and simply another attempt to demoralize and break
him. Another Number Two succeeded the
old Number Two, but the totalitarian grip of the Village on its citizens
remained intact. The election turned out
to be a game after all. Someone made an
ironic pun at the expense of Number Six with words of the old saying, “Six of
one, half a dozen of the other”: it
didn’t really matter who one voted for—the real power remained in the fact of
the Village itself.
McGoohan’s
point was that all societies program their citizens, and feed them only the
information they want them to have, thus pre-determining their choices within
certain parameters. True freedom in this
age is largely illusory, unless it is rooted within the human person who is
able to see through the lies which pervade society. It was hard for me not to think of current
events as I watched the old series, for some of its lessons are timeless. For a Christian, the lessons learned from
Number Six’s struggles within the Village are threefold.
Firstly,
all human societies form part of the World, which lies under the power of the
Evil One (1 John 5:19), whatever political system that society utilizes and
whichever leader it follows. That does
not mean, of course, that it is a mere toss up between a liberal democracy
which allows dissent and a totalitarian regime where dissenters disappear overnight
into a gulag. The former is definitely
preferable, and I am happy to inhabit one.
It also does not mean that it does not matter which leader we choose,
for some leaders if chosen will do more harm than others. But it does mean that we must not mistake our
liberal democracy for the Kingdom of God, or think that it is somehow exempt
from the power of the Evil One. If Satan
is the god of this age (2 Corinthians 4:4) then in some sense he is a god in
America as well as in Russia, Syria, or any other part of this world. We should vote, and may debate (politely,
please), and maybe even campaign for the political candidates of our
choice. But we must do so knowing that no
leader will bring in the Kingdom of God, and that our ultimate allegiance lies
with Jesus Christ, not with any earthly leader or system. At the end of the day, the World is still the
World.
Secondly,
we can expect then that the World will lie to us and offer us a steady diet of
falsehood from the father of lies. We
cannot always know which bits we find in our media are the lies, but we can be
sure we are being lied to somehow. All
the more sensible to sit rather lightly on all that we think we know. We must constantly remind ourselves that in
this age, “we see through a glass darkly” and “know in part”— knowing perhaps even
less than we imagine we do. At best the
World offers us half-truths, and the problem with half-truths is that one
usually fastens on the wrong half. It is
only in Christ and the Holy Tradition of His Church that fullness of truth can
be found, unmixed with any error. I used
to think it was a tad irresponsible of C.S. Lewis not to read newspapers on the
basis that they contained so many distortions and lies. Now I am not so sure that he wasn’t on to
something. I still read papers and
listen to the news, but I believe less and less of what I am told.
Thirdly,
our hearts must be set on the day of our escape from this World at the Second
Coming and on our entry into true freedom, for such an attitude is the only
path to true interior freedom and authentic personhood here and now. One problem with becoming immersed in politics
is that we run the risk of forgetting what the true and lasting issues of life
and death really are. We are meant to
keep at least one eye on the horizon, with the prayer “Maranatha!” in our
heart, for our true citizenship is not here but in heaven (Philippians 3:20). A very early prayer said, “Let grace come and
let the world pass away!” I often think
of that prayer whenever I vote, and am sometimes tempted to write it on the
ballot. But whether I utter the prayer
or not, the world certainly will one day pass away, and grace certainly will one
day come. “Six of one, half a dozen of
the other”? Certainly that seems true in
this age. But there remains a third
option, what St. Paul called “the Blessed Hope”. May that hope be realized soon.
While I do not share your cynicism about elected government, I am glad that you understand that elections are not going to redeem a nation spiritually.
ReplyDeleteBecause there are still too many people in the States who seem to think that they are going to stave off the vengeance of an angry deity by electing a pro-life president. When their chances of doing that are getting so close to zero as to be zero. Especially when they are currently getting behind as amoral a candidate as one can get.
There are, I think, two approaches for the Christian in today's democracies. One is the cynicism of "well it beats the alternatives". The other is to take a more pragmatic approach and try to figure out what aspects of our faith can still resonate in the circumstances. Our concern for the poor is one such aspect, for example.
Neither approach is better than the other. But at the very least, we need to accept that Christianity and politics have parted ways. No more Rushdoony, no more Constantine.