In Greek Mythology, Theseus, the King of Athens, rescued the children of Athens from King Minos after slaying the Minotaur and then escaped onto a ship going to Delos. The creature, which was part man and part bull, dwelt at the centre of the Labyrinth, which was an elaborate maze designed by the architect Daedalus and his son Icarus, upon the command of King Minos of Crete.
According to tradition, every nine years the people of Athens were compelled by King Minos to choose seven men and seven women to be offered as sacrificial victims to the Minotaur in retribution for the death of Minos’ son Androgeos. The Minotaur was eventually slain by Theseus, who managed to navigate the Labyrinth with the help of a thread offered to him by the King of Crete’s daughter, Ariadne. And, each year, the Athenians would commemorate the heroism of Theseus for his rescuing 14 of his Athenian citizens by taking the ship which he had used on a pilgrimage to Delos to honour the Greek god, Apollo. Over time, various of its timbers rotted away and then they were replaced. The continuous renovation of the vessel became, interestingly, the focus of Western philosophers.
The Ship of Theseus is a thought experiment, in philosophy, about identity, which entertains the question if an object remains the same if all its original parts are gradually replaced over time, like the case of the mythical Greek hero’s ship which was preserved by Athenians over time. The paradox explores whether the restored ship, with entirely new planks, is still the original Ship of Theseus, challenging concepts of identity, of persistence, and of change as it applies both to objects and to humans.
Philosophers have debated if the identity of an object or of a person lies in the form, in the function, in the history, or in the material composition of that object or that person. The debate did not end with a single agreed-upon answer. And as I witness the progression of the United States of America today, through the lenses of history, I decided to apply the question which arose from the paradox of The Ship of Theseus debate to this country, from the days of the turbulence of its founding to the days of the turbulence in recent times, which some see as signs of the beginning of its complete dissolution.
Despite the 27 amendments made to its Constitution, through a legal facility provided by that document, is the American ship of state, therefore, at least constitutionally or culturally speaking, still, in principle, as it was then in the time of its founding or is it a different country altogether?
Culturally, in many respects, America does not resemble, completely, what it looked like after the ink of the very last signature had dried, which was required in order to ratify its Constitution well over two and a half centuries ago. And I will not attempt, by any means, to outline the vast array of such changes which have occurred since then and which continue to occur within the progression of time. I will leave that to the historians and to the social scientists in their various academic disciplines to continue to assiduously unearth and to faithfully document such changes. But I will dare to add that because of some of those cultural changes I am being treated, as a person of colour, somewhat differently, even better, than I would have been had I been born in this nation near three hundred years ago.
I am the product of, essentially, two cultures, which have been as tectonic plates caught in a titanic struggle since destiny had breathed life into the naked and unfettered patriotism of some so-called American patriots. The words of the late African American actor, Malcolm-Jamal Warner, (Theo from The Cosby Show) describe that cultural seismic dynamic eloquently, when he said that “Slavery is white history, how we survived it is Black history.” Is America the same ship of state, despite the adjustment of some of its timbers over the years — yes or no? Is the answer to that question, either way, of any importance for us today? The MAGA Republicans seem to think so with their call to “Make America great again”. And for people of colour and for other minorities, who are yet to partake of that greatness, the answer is of an existential nature. But can the concerns born out of each of those perspectives both be true, and at the same time? Did America suffer regression during the course of its development, somehow, as MAGA supporters assert, or did it experience progression, but not enough for all of its citizens to benefit as people of colour and as other minorities contend?
Historians tell us that the movement of history is not always in a straight line, and that there are moments when it will move in opposite directions. But regardless, it is ever on the move. Someone has said that the only constant in this world is change, and so, in light of that reality, no country and no culture, including the United States, is ever the same from the days of its genesis into the currency of now. And, yet, still, for many, some things remain constant and one has to wonder, therefore, if what persist comprise what some would call its “essence”.
In the case of America, the pursuit of profit, at any cost, persists. The existence of the phenomena of classism, of patriarchy, of misogyny, of racism, of xenophobia, of ethnocentrism, of religious bigotry, of oligarchy and of extra-legal violence also persist. There is as much a movement today to keep the majority of white people as poor and as uneducated as possible as in the days of the American Antebellum South. The agenda which the slave plantocracy had pushed back then, in order to maintain their grasp on economic and political power, which involved the destruction of the Federal Government, still persists today. Their modus operandi towards their hold on power also included keeping poor whites and people of colour at the throats of each other. Therefore, that American version of imperialism’s ubiquitous rule of “divide and conquer” still persists within the country today. There seems to be more than enough planks within the structure of the American ship of state which have survived the currents of change. The original vessel, therefore, as far as I can see, is still, largely, intact. America today, therefore, is what it has always been since the very beginning, and we should not be shocked by what we have been seeing.
The problems which the country is now embroiled in seem to be agitated by the presence and by the fissures of the planks of classism, patriarchy, misogyny, racism, xenophobia, ethnocentrism, religious bigotry, oligarchy and extra-legal violence, despite the Constitution and its 27 amendments. Although some might argue that our current crisis is due to the state of the economy, then one ought to be reminded that the economy does not exist nor does it operate in a vacuum. Those volatile social and cultural forces have, and they continue to play, a large part in the life of the nation. One only needs to think about what led to the U.S. Civil War, which was waged between 1861 and 1865. Max Weber argued in The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism that culture drives the economy. It seems, therefore, that if those issues are not addressed that they will recur again and again, and again. But, how much can the country sustain by the tumults that they create? Common sense demands that we address them urgently, judiciously, efficiently, efficaciously and humanely.
In closing, I would like to comment on another plank which did not rot away from within the hull of the American ship of state, from the time that it had set sail on its maiden voyage, after the U.S. Constitution was ratified on June 21, 1788. New Hampshire became the ninth state of the 13 colonies to approve it.
The American republic, with the spouting of its lofty ideals, which included what it had said was the inalienable rights of all men, had always been hypocritical then as it continues to be in the practice of those very ideals today. For a nation which boasts of its heritage in Western Philosophy, a boast which it often uses today as a talisman against what white America calls “wokism”, it has, certainly and sadly, become the personification of less praiseworthy sentiments expressed by it.
The two-headed Janus represents the Roman god of beginnings, endings, transitions, and time, with its faces looking to both the past and future. He symbolizes duality, such as war and peace and he is associated with doorways, and with gates. All of those have proven to be true of America, and, perhaps, none has been more cogent than that of it being “Janus-faced”, which also means deceitful. But let me not end on such a sour note, for the spirit of Theseus, which was inclined to deliver and to improve the lot of its citizens, has manifested itself over and over again, for almost 300 years, in America and it persists today. How successful it will be is left to be seen. But, the spirit of that Greek hero persists. There is, therefore, room for much hope.
