Seventeenth-century essayist/poet John Dryden wrote a verse satire entitled “Absalom and Achitophel” that attacked some of the political/religious goings-on of his time, one of which was the attempt to exclude James, presumably the next in line for English kingship, from the throne because he was Catholic. Three attempts at exclusion never made it into law, but they generated two political parties: The Whigs supported the exclusion, whereas the Tories opposed it. Now, it’s a bit difficult for us so far removed from that century to put our pollex on the political climate of the time, but suffice it to know that England had weathered a civil war, a reinstatement of an exiled king, and a series of reverberations bouncing across the Channel because of family royalty ties, Reformation related battles, and a desire on the part of some to unify England and Scotland. In that context, simplified here, Dryden satirized.
One of Dryden’s lines, line 305 to be precise, catches my attention. Dryden writes, “Desire of power, on earth a vicious weed….” Most likely, the line took root in my mind because it’s spring, and I just put a weed-and-feed product over my lawn.* So, weeds have been on my mind.
The desire for power has been a vicious weed, not just in Dryden’s time, but in ours as well. Like all weeds, that desire has been invasive and pervasive throughout history, often fulfilled by exclusion. That such a desire manifested itself in the doings of English royalty and political parties of centuries ago shouldn’t be a surprise, nor should its manifestation be a surprise in our times. Weeds are tough to control. Evidence for that seems to lie in the rise of Whigs and Tories, the latter arising as a weed in the exclusive lawn the Whigs intended to plant and maintain.
I find it ironic that the weed of desire for power often fulfills itself by excluding “plants” perceived to be weeds. After all, isn’t a weed just a plant someone doesn’t want? “Not in my yard!” And the same seems to apply to the current milieu of excluding those whose thoughts are “weeds.” Think now of universities and university students controlling their yards because someone of a different point of view wants to plant some seed of thought, wants merely to “enter the yard.”
Power by exclusion makes a very uniform lawn. But as satisfactory as a lush grass-only lawn is to the king of a yard, such a lawn is also rather boring. Nothing challenges the status quo, nothing different shows the variety of life evolution has generated. Or, in the case of thoughts, nothing in a uniform, albeit pretty, intellectual lawn presents an argument for yellow dandelions, violets, or Queen Ann’s lace. Uniform green. Acquired by exclusion.
The desire for power has become the desire for sameness. Is it possible that just as we have been influenced to think an area of uniform grass is worth our time and money so we have also been trained to think that all political thought, our political thought, should be uniform? Universities with beautiful campuses have spent millions of dollars on lawn care. That expenditure now seems to extend to thought care. And all because of a vicious desire for power, power acquired by weeding and feeding.
*Grasses have done all right by themselves over the past seventy million years or so. The evolution of human desire and folly is a relatively recent phenomenon by comparison. That grasses have adapted to many climates and geographic locations without human help seems to make the folly of helping them grow in a weed free environment a prime example of both pride and folly. Or is it another example of the desire for power? “I declare my lawn weed free. I exclude all weeds; let them be banished from my little ‘island.’”
One of Dryden’s lines, line 305 to be precise, catches my attention. Dryden writes, “Desire of power, on earth a vicious weed….” Most likely, the line took root in my mind because it’s spring, and I just put a weed-and-feed product over my lawn.* So, weeds have been on my mind.
The desire for power has been a vicious weed, not just in Dryden’s time, but in ours as well. Like all weeds, that desire has been invasive and pervasive throughout history, often fulfilled by exclusion. That such a desire manifested itself in the doings of English royalty and political parties of centuries ago shouldn’t be a surprise, nor should its manifestation be a surprise in our times. Weeds are tough to control. Evidence for that seems to lie in the rise of Whigs and Tories, the latter arising as a weed in the exclusive lawn the Whigs intended to plant and maintain.
I find it ironic that the weed of desire for power often fulfills itself by excluding “plants” perceived to be weeds. After all, isn’t a weed just a plant someone doesn’t want? “Not in my yard!” And the same seems to apply to the current milieu of excluding those whose thoughts are “weeds.” Think now of universities and university students controlling their yards because someone of a different point of view wants to plant some seed of thought, wants merely to “enter the yard.”
Power by exclusion makes a very uniform lawn. But as satisfactory as a lush grass-only lawn is to the king of a yard, such a lawn is also rather boring. Nothing challenges the status quo, nothing different shows the variety of life evolution has generated. Or, in the case of thoughts, nothing in a uniform, albeit pretty, intellectual lawn presents an argument for yellow dandelions, violets, or Queen Ann’s lace. Uniform green. Acquired by exclusion.
The desire for power has become the desire for sameness. Is it possible that just as we have been influenced to think an area of uniform grass is worth our time and money so we have also been trained to think that all political thought, our political thought, should be uniform? Universities with beautiful campuses have spent millions of dollars on lawn care. That expenditure now seems to extend to thought care. And all because of a vicious desire for power, power acquired by weeding and feeding.
*Grasses have done all right by themselves over the past seventy million years or so. The evolution of human desire and folly is a relatively recent phenomenon by comparison. That grasses have adapted to many climates and geographic locations without human help seems to make the folly of helping them grow in a weed free environment a prime example of both pride and folly. Or is it another example of the desire for power? “I declare my lawn weed free. I exclude all weeds; let them be banished from my little ‘island.’”
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