Despotism

Marcus was on his way to his class on Political Despotism. Now, it needs to be explained how Marcus’s terror of this class deflected his personal growth. His teacher was a disciplinarian of the old school, but he was no more than ten years older than Marcus. His teacher spoke with the air of an ancient wise man, and he claimed to have a professor’s knowledge of the field of epistemology. The man did not cut any slack, to be blunt. A’s had to be earned. C’s were commonplace. B’s rewarded a steady effort, though truth be told, students earning this grade probably couldn’t truly understand the materials at hand. It is probable that B’s were the most common of all grades in this class, but Marcus had no way of knowing. His terror had reached such a pitch that he couldn’t even find it in him to talk to his classmates, even about how they did on their papers, which were systematically and predictably assigned and graded. This was upsetting in a college environment, but truth be told, the other students didn’t have the same problem, only Marcus did. The most terrifying aspect of all was the requirement of having to lead two class discussions in the course of the semester. As if providence would have it, the other two who signed up to present the same days as Marcus, who would become his partners in leading the discussion, appeared as if they had as little clue as he did. So, in the end, he was in over his head, but his classmates made him feel more human for it. They also made him feel stupid, though.
On this particular day at 5:20, Marcus entered his classroom with his partner, Erin, who had been chatting away with him for the last ten minutes in the waiting area, frantically trying to cull some meaning out of their Arendt text. Marcus was not being particularly helpful:
“Uh, I don’t know. I don’t understand anything from this.”
“Well, she’s talking about the origins of these countries, these regions, the people and the history of the people prior to the 19th century, and basically trying to explain it. I mean if we start from there, we can probably get at her meaning.”
“I just don’t get it! I can’t even read one sentence!”
“Well, don’t say that when we’re leading the class.”
“Look, I mean, I underlined this. Tell me if you think we can use it: ‘But far beyond the boundaries within which race-thinking and class-thinking have developed into obligatory patterns of thought, free public opinion has adopted them to such an extent that not only intellectuals but great masses of people will no longer accept a presentation of past or present facts that is not in agreement with either of these views.’ Now see, if I read something that long in class, and nobody interrupts me, then I feel obligated to say something meaningful about it. But I can’t even understand the sentence, I swear to God, it just sounds like it has some sort of meaning in it.”
“I think what she’s saying is that race-thinking and class-thinking dominate all other types of thinking.”
“That sounds too easy.”
“You need the right context, that’s the secret to this book.”
“It’s impossible.”
“Okay, maybe race-thinking and class-thinking don’t dominate all other types, but maybe they have monopolized all other types. Now all types of thinking spring from either race or class, not from say, education. ‘Great masses of people’ weren’t treated to the education we are used to now in the 18th-19th century.”
“This hurts me to think about.”
“It’s okay, we’ll do okay just try to sound like you know what you’re doing. Read the passage you underlined well.”
So it happened that the two of them entered the classroom and sat next to each other and the teacher didn’t say anything about the weather or the latest political intrigue. Instead, he said, “So Marcus, Erin, would you please start the discussion?”
Erin began by announcing unsure of herself, “Well, in the section we prepared to talk about, Arendt discussed the foundations of racism in Western Europe. Marcus has a quote that he thinks would be useful for a class discussion.”
“It’s on page 159.” Marcus read the passage for them, slowly, with accents to his pitch where he thought they belonged.
Erin didn’t say anything at first, and Marcus didn’t look over at her, as if to signal. He felt that he should really add some of his own thought to this, otherwise it wouldn’t look good.
“What she’s saying is that man is perpetually at war with itself, and countries are constantly on a quest for some form of dominance, and these two factors, race and class, which actually both set people apart and bring them together, are naturally the strongest foundations upon which to set a national identity.”
“Education for say, middle-class Germans in the early 19th century had nowhere to go, this is what Arendt is getting at, I think.” Erin finished.
The teacher, impressed, played devil’s advocate for them.
“So, middle class Germany in the 19th century had no class or race to wrap itself around?”
“This is all so obvious I think, it’s much clearer when you don’t have to use the specific philosophical definition ad nauseam.” Marcus surrendered.
“But that’s exactly the point,” the teacher retaliated, “if you don’t know exactly what the other person is talking about, real progress, real wisdom through dialogue can’t be accomplished.”
“But you’re going backwards now,” Marcus said.
“Yes, I’m sorry, let’s move forwards, let’s open it up for discussion.”
Erin leaned over to Marcus, “Nice job.”
“You better have a quote ready next.” Marcus whispered
“I’ve got it covered.”