• Articles - Books - Featured - Russia

    “Everything is allowed”

    There’s a lot of doom in the Internet, especially among the alternative news crowd. People can’t get enough of the “end of the world/end of the West” type of thing. While I do understand that we are living in highly worrying times, with war expanding everywhere, economic downturn, birth rate collapse, mass migration, and radical technological and social changes, I try to avoid falling in the trap of looking only at the collapse, as there are occasionally good things too. Besides, it’s a bit depressive to only having to write about doom, gloom and conspiracy theories.

    Recently I’ve been doing much more reading than writing — I haven’t published a text here in months — and I decided to revisit classic novels, reading or re-reading them. I started, where else, with the Russians. I’ve recently finished Dostoevsky’s “The Brothers Karamazov” — it took me only forty years. I kid, but in fact I started reading this novel when I was 16 or 17, and never finished it. Then a few months ago, I found the book in my local library and decided to pick it up again, reading it all from the start. It took me just a couple of months. I really enjoyed it, so much so that I am reading Dostoevsky’s “The Idiot” now.

    The following is a somewhat disjointed digression about a famous sentence found in the Karamazov book — the text can also be watched in video form, perhaps it works better this way — and how it could apply to our current reality. Or not.


    “If there is no God, everything is allowed.”

    This sentence that became famous appears in the great novel by Fyodor Dostoevsky, “The Brothers Karamázov”, one of the greatest novels in the history of literature. A great, great book which I’ve only recently read. Without giving any spoilers, let’s just say that it is the story of three brothers with three very different personalities and destinies. Dmitri is the impulsive and reckless one, Alyosha is the moral and good-hearted one, and Ivan is the intellectual and cynical one. And Ivan is the one who says this sentence.

    But what does it mean?

    It means that without God there are no moral rules, and man can do anything he wants. Rape, incest, murder.

    “Do what thou wilt, that shall be the law”.

    There are two consequences to this. One is that moral notions of good and evil have to come from God, from above. Otherwise it just comes from one man to another group of men, and it becomes merely a question of power.

    The second part is that you should have clear, inflexible rules.”Thou shall not murder.” “Thou shall not covet thy neighbours’ wife”.  Otherwise, you have relativism. Or things like utilitarianism: “the greater good for the greater number of people”.

    But then, if you have four people and three of them don’t like the fourth one, they can kill him, because that would be “the greater good for the greater number of people”, right?

    And so we are back to “Everything is allowed.”

    This idea comes, a bit, from Nietzsche’s sentence that “God is dead”, and the growing nihilism that was already at the time very noticeable in society, not just in Russia but in Europe in general. We are talking here about the late 19th century, when science was advancing, society was changing and more traditional notions of behaviour were starting to disappear.

    The 20th century saw even greater changes, with feminism, the sexual revolution, the rise of modern democracy, and the further secularization of society, as well as incredible technological changes.

    Today, things have gone much further. We live in times of extreme moral confusion, or maybe we should even say moral inversion. Good is called bad, and bad is called good. Black is called white, and white, black. Women are called men and men are called women.

    Since we can’t even accept Nature as it is, the rules of society have become increasingly nonsensical.

    As people are increasingly stabbed in the streets by foreigners, governments worldwide react by banning knives. Or scissors. Or hammers.

    Or social media posts.

    Newspapers were always full of lies, but, with the rise of modern digital mass media and now what is called, incorrectly, “Artificial Intelligence”, which further increases the possibilities of image manipulation, we don’t even know what is real and what isn’t. Perhaps we never knew. History was always written by the winners. Not everything we were told in school and history books was true.

    Our leaders, the ones who should rule us and protect us, have become our worst enemies. There have always been tyrants, but this is probably the first time in history where there’s a whole worldwide government system that hates its population, or, at most, sees humans as replaceable cogs in a machine. Animals with no souls, to be hacked by vaccines and gene manipulation.

    Even religious leaders offer little solace. Most of them are also part of this global system that wants to destroy traditional society in the name of a new global order.

    What to do? How can we get rid of this evil global that seems to increasingly control everything and lead us into a global technological dystopia?

    In Dostoevski’s novel, there is another character, called Father Zossima, a monk who is the mentor of the young Alyosha. And he says some interesting things which may be worth repeating.

    At one point omeone asks him, “How can you prove that God exists?” And he says, well, you can’t. But if you love everyone and everything, if you spend your life actively loving your neighbours, one day, you will understand. But he warns that such love has to be active, real love.

    Because the truth, as Dostoevsky observes in the novel, is that many people love humanity in the abstract, but they don’t really love humans. They just love a certain notion that they have about humanity, or perhaps they just love the idea of being considered a “good person”.

    And so you have a lot of what we call virtue-signallers. People who like to appear as if they are noble or good and are always fighting for the right causes. But it is just status-mongering. It’s not real love. They love humanity as an abstract concept. But loving real people is hard. Most people are annoying or ungrateful. They lie, they cheat, they stink. When Jesus said that you should love your neighbour, he never said it would be easy.

    Father Zossima also asks: “what is Hell?” And he says something very interesting. He says, “I maintain that Hell is the suffering of being unable to love.” And if we think about our rulers — and I don’t mean just the politicians, but the billionaires, the bankers, the real rulers behind the façade of the state — we see a lot of people that have a lot of power and riches. They have yachts, mansions, cars, women. But despite that, many of them don’t seem happy, and in fact many seem really wretched.  “What does it profit a man to win the whole world and lose his soul?”

    They may have power, but they are unable to love their fellow human beings. And as such, they are in fact already living in hell. Because Hell is the suffering of being unable to love. If God’s love is the hidden grammar of the Universe, then Hell is being permanently away from it.

    So what is the answer to our current troubles? The same one that ever was. Reject excessive materialism and consumerism. Try to avoid mass media, or, if you can’t at least be skeptical about it. Work, love your family, love the people close to you, help your community. Try to change yourself before attempting to change the world.

    The current system is based on lies, and, as such, it can’t last long. It will end at some point, perhaps sooner than we all think. As Yeats said, “All things fall and are built again.” When the time comes, we have to be ready to build them again.

  • Articles - Featured - Italy - Russia

    You can’t go home again

    Language as a home

    “The Russian language is my homeland”, wrote the great poet Anna Akhmatova. She was born in Odessa but lived mostly in Saint Petersburg. She descended from Ukrainian cossacks on her father’s side and from Russian nobility on her mother’s side.

    She could have escaped during the 1917 Revolution, as friends of hers did, but chose to stay instead. She knew she was giving up freedom, but she said she could not bear to live in exile, like a stranger in a strange land.

    Her first husband was shot by Lenin and her son was sent to the gulag by Stalin. But she never left the Soviet Union, except for brief trips at the end of her life, authorized by the regime.

    She wrote patriotic poems and read them to soldiers during the siege of Leningrad, but she also wrote “Requiem”, a long poem about the Stalinist terror, published only posthumously in Russia in 1987.

    The English language is not my homeland. I write in English because I lived for many years in English-speaking countries but it’s not my mother tongue — I think I write decently in it, but it still doesn’t feel completely natural, and my pronunciation is not great. But I lived in so many countries, I don’t know in which language I should write anymore. And, unlike Akhmatova, I live in exile. A stranger in a strange land.

    Tradition as a home

    There is a YouTube channel I like called Pasta Grannies. It interviews year old Italian grandmas who make pasta the traditional way. The last one was about a 96-year old grandma making homemade pesto.

    It is beautiful, but it’s also kind of sad. Will this tradition be kept alive in the future?

    Italy has a fertility rate of less than 1.3 children per woman, and, on top of that, it is receiving thousands of foreign migrants every year. As in France, increasingly even small towns are full of immigrants, and locals are not having children, but just getting old.

    Will these African, Arab and Asian migrants keep the handmade pasta tradition alive? Highly unlikely. They are bringing their own traditions with them.

    Most of the illegal migrants board boats on the Libyan coast. They could be easily transported to Tunisia, which is much closer, but Tunis doesn’t want them. So German NGOs picks them up just a few miles off the Libyan coast, and bring them to Lampedusa. There, the EU makes it impossible for them to be deported. So they remain, but many don’t have jobs, and not even a lot of benefits.

    Italy is not really a rich country, and many Italians are struggling right now, so you can imagine that most of those migrants are not really having the dream life they were told they would have.

    Since it’s German NGOs that bring them, perhaps the Italians should put them all on buses and send them to Berlin. Germany also offers better benefits to migrants, so it would be win-win.

    But Meloni is not doing anything about it, and she recently even implied that she wants to increase legal immigration to the country, bringing in people from India too.

    Say what you want about Salvini, at least he wasn’t as big a disappointment as Meloni proved to be.

    Now the EU has a new agreement that all member countries must share the enrichment. So Poland, Hungary and other countries not so near the Mediterranean will receive their share too. It’s only fair.

    No home even at home

    In 1973, French writer Jean Raspail wrote the novel The Camp of the Saints, which was an early warning about mass immigration. Despite its relevant theme, the book is out of print. You can buy it at Amazon for 1,000 dollars, which is more than most immigrants pay to the smugglers for their boat ride to Europe.

    I don’t even blame the migrants. Some demonize them, but, well, most of them are just poor people who are just being used by others in power — to lower salaries, to create conflict, maybe one day to start a new war, who knows. They probably wouldn’t even come if there wasn’t an incentive from the European governments for them to do so. As Akhmatova knew, it’s hard to live away from one’s homeland.

    And in the end, that’s what it is all about. Those migrants only come because the European and American governments are pushing it, and even paying for it.

    Just the other day some mayor of a small town in Germany said he was going to install converted containers to house refugees in a primary school, against the parents’ wishes, and he even bragged that there was nothing anyone could do about it.

    What is that if not a big “F.U.” to the local population?

    Mass migration is portrayed as some kind of natural, unstoppable force, like a tsunami, but it’s exactly the opposite. Billions of dollars or euros are spent to bring those migrants, and then other billions are spent to host them in apartments or containers or camps, and sometimes they even receive a monthly wage.

    Occasionally the governments even complain that it costs too much. Well, what about, just stopping spending all those billions?

    Of course, it won’t happen. It’s an engineered program that could easily be stopped if there was just the will. But there isn’t.

    If the migrants feel bad, if they can’t find a job, if they suffer with racism and xenophobia, if their life sucks and Europe or America is not the shining city on the hill they were promised, they can always go home.

    But you, my friend, who grew up under the shadow of those native trees, whose ancestors built these old medieval towns and churches that still stand, you have nowhere to go.

    Your country has changed. Your life has changed.

    You can’t go home again.

    No one wants to help us
    Because we stayed home,
    Because, loving our city
    And not winged freedom,
    We preserved for ourselves
    Its palaces, its fire and water.

    (Anna Akhmatova, Petrograd, 1919)