Odi ergo sum

 The Australian political theorist Kenneth Minogue coined the term St George in Retirement Syndrome (a more pagan equivalent might be Beowulf in Retirement Syndrome!) to describe the plight of old campaigners who, having gained prominence in their younger days by fighting against some draconian enemy find themselves yearning for the sense of purpose it once gave them. The Canadian psychiatrist Eric Berne spoke about difficult life scripts that people get stuck acting out, becoming ever more unhappy as they do so. One of the negative scripts he links to the Greek myth of Baucis and Philemon, a sweet old couple who are transformed into interlinked trees as a reward for their hospitality. Whilst such a fate might sound lovely, retiring too early to a peaceful, placid existence can become utterly tedious for many and they yearn for challenge and difficulty.

Retirement can leave a lot of people wondering what on earth to do with themselves. Hankering for the “good old days” of being an admirable hero with a purpose, they start picking fights with smaller and smaller dragons (having already vanquished the big beasts) until they end up shouting at newts in the park. The hardened campaigner finds pettier and pettier causes to pledge themselves to. Partly such battles give a way of filling long days, but also reinforce an identity that can readily fade through lack of use. Being an admired hero is quite an attractive prospect and better than turning into Norma Desmond being asked, "weren't you famous, once?". 

The late Italian historian and novelist Umberto Eco coined the Latin phrase ‘odi ergo sum’ (I hate therefore I am) as a play on the philosopher Rene Descartes’s more famous aphorism cogito ergo sum (I think therefore I am). Eco was making an observation about the need quite a few people (especially on social media) have for an enemy to rail against. In a variation on Minogue’s idea, younger generations look at the noble campaigns of their forebears – battling the Nazis, marching with Martin Luther King for civil rights etc. and yearn for a taste of that glory themselves. They look around for villains to defeat in order to feel a sense of accomplishment. Yet, when they look around, the dragons are either tiny or non-existent (or possibly sitting on such vast mounds of gold as to be unassailable) and so the desperation to have some baddie to define themselves against leads them to imagine enemies (or to fake them in a Walter Mitty moment). Storytellers have a preference for grand stories rather than quotidian tales of people overcoming minor odds, so in order to be recognised people may be inclined to chase the dramatic tale rather than be humble and risk obscurity. In a pagan context the re-enacting of past glories can be seen mainly in two ways. 

Firstly, the romantic appeal of TV series featuring strapping Vikings and Celtic warriors is clearly inspirational to many who emulate the look and hold the warrior ideals in their hearts, even if their daily lives are sometimes no risker than that of the average chartered accountant. Quite a few dream of being warriors (albeit some of them without any actual experience of violence, bloodshed etc. that would give their dreams a foundation in reality outside of TV shows). There is, of course, nothing wrong in wishing to protect one kith and kin, defending them from threats. Quite the opposite - it is a desirable trait. The only difficulty is that the threats these days are seldom from identifiable bands of roaming brigands that can be fought off with swords and battle axes. Whilst in western society in the 21st century predators clearly exist (violent street gangs, paedophile rings etc.), the average pagan probably does not come into contact with them very often. The threats we do more commonly face are much more nebulous and not the sort of thing that can be resolved with some Vikings-style sword action.

Secondly, Pagans can draw on a mixed history of real and debatable persecution at the hands of inquisitors, witch-hunters and the like. Whilst there are undoubtedly bigots in the world today who harass pagans and vandalise their holy places, they are thankfully rare in Britain. This does not stop people railing against Christians and others for largely imaginary or distant historical injustices. The real outrages that go on are often in places so distant from Britain (like the vandalism of shrines in Greece or Russia) that there is nothing that Pagans of the UK can do about it beyond tutting.

Goodness and nobility are so often defined in the contrast against another’s awfulness - we might feel ourselves to be "good people" not so much because of what we do but because we do not do the dreadful stuff that those people down the road get up to (whether for real or in our fervid imaginations). The point that Eco was making is that quite a few people are consumed with hatred for those people down the road and their supposed wickedness, largely because such faux outrage helps give them a sense of purpose and identity which they would otherwise lack. Maybe they do not know who they are, do not have a clear plan of what to do to make the world a better place - they only know what they are not, what they oppose, what they rage against. Some outright fake evil so that they can then take a stand against it (like the case with minor American actor Jussie Smollett who pretended to be the victim of racist violence). Others go around accusing passing strangers of all manner of terrible deeds, on scant or no evidence, which they can denounce and strike a pose against. 

The challenge which Eco and Minogue muse on is how modern generations can find their courage and moral strength without any obvious monsters to wage war upon. It requires us to stop defining ourselves by what we are not or what we stand against, and more by what we actively do, by what we actually are. An identity built out of hate and resentment is seldom going to be a productive or healthy thing. It is more of a challenge to build an identity from a foundation of positive emotions such as love, hope, compassion etc. It may seem odd to cite Christian theology on a mostly pagan blog, but the message of Christ to love one's enemies is pertinent here. Those who genuinely follow Christ's teachings seek to change those who are opposed to them, rather than just destroy them. Obviously history is knee-deep in the blood of the slaughtered - easier to preach redemption than to practice it. I am not sure that too many pagans would wish to go around loving their enemies, but a life built on honouring one's kin is better than one built on the constant hatred of supposed enemies.