Constance Goodman/Institute for Advanced Study

A splendid human being was this George Kennan (1904-2005).  His primary claim to fame was that he was the chief American diplomat assigned to Moscow during the Stalinist era (i.e., Our Man in Moscow). Thus, George was in the catbird seat to observe the rise, and creeping peril, of Soviet-style communism.

Kennan was born and raised in Wisconsin, in the Midwest, that heartland of honest values and steady relationships. He studied at elite Princeton University, specializing in history, and diplomacy, graduating in 1925. Kennan was particularly influenced by the historian Edward Gibbon, thus, right from the start, was acutely attuned to the dynamics of the rise and fall of civilizations.

Overall, Kennan’s essential position with regard to international relations was that the best hedge against the spread of a problematic political system like Soviet communism was to encourage, within nations, a thriving economy in which profits were adequately, equitably distributed.  Marxism can be seen as the economic and philosophical foundation of the more politically focused communism—which perhaps could be identified as a narrow, austere, militaristic, authoritarian manifestation of the ideal of economic generosity and joint ownership. 

Marx championed the principle that workers, the proximate producers of industrial wealth, deserved a substantial portion of industrial income. Naturally, this was an economic ideology of magnetic appeal to those many nations in which a small group (class) of owners, essentially aristocrats, primarily by dint of historical prerogatives, and often by dodgy financial leverage, and thuggish enforcement, were exploiting a large group (class) of workers. This was Marx’s famous formulation of class conflict. 

Unfortunately, Marxism, idealistic Victorian child of Paris and London, found its most flagrant political manifestation in the violent overthrow of Tsarist Russia, at the beginning of the twentieth century. Tsar Nicholas, sad to say, was something of a well-meaning impostor in the role of national leader, resulting in a nation riven by lethal ideological and political turmoil. Such social chaos made it highly vulnerable to revolution. Lenin, then later Stalin, in trying to establish an uncompromising communist government under the glorious banner of Marxist ideology, found themselves, alarmingly, to be a particularly minuscule political entity in Tsarist Russia. That is, the Bolsheviks were a small, though highly disciplined, political tail trying to wag a large, and distinguished, cultural dog. 

Consequently, in order to gain political control of this vast country, with its huge and magnificent history and multiplicity of cultures, the communists felt obligated to, and justified in, introducing an ideology of narrow, fanatical dogmatism, supported by a cruel authoritarian regime. It was either totalitarianism or ignominious failure, in Lenin’s view. Therefore, the CHEKA, the feared communist secret police, who routinely rounded up anyone even faintly opposed to the communists, tortured, then murdered them. In addition, the gulag system of anonymous, distant, brutal work camps was a convenient way to silence contrary voices through exile.

All that, of course, fanned a firestorm among politically opposed groups, and created, in an ascending crescendo, vicious conflict, mutually-cancelling propaganda, and totalitarian fanaticism, escalating into jealous, raging illusions among the various parties battling for power, as they all raced towards that elusive point of exponential increase in control—that golden moment beyond which no competitor could muster any serious opposition. In the spiraling, kaleidoscopic vortex of dueling dogmatic beliefs, fanatical ambitions, clandestine intelligence, secret arrests, ruthless control and corresponding ruthless counter-control . . . millions and millions were murdered. 

The communists’ rationale for their totalitarian approach to achieving national existential bliss was that as soon as their authority was secure, they would be able to back off the intolerant brutality, and usher in the workers’ paradise that was supposed to have been going on the whole time.  (That “workers’ paradise” was the fond fantasy of spooky British and American fellow-travelers, like the infamous double-agent spy, Kim Philby.) However, such a point of reassuring, sufficient political security, according to Kennan, the Soviets never reached.  Thus, the categorical suspicions, deceptions, and totalitarian viciousness never ended.

The strangest, and most intractable element in the Stalinist-communist self-appointed mission to save the workers of the world was the belief (possibly drawing on the all-or-nothing Hegelian/Marxist notion of the dialectic) that communism and capitalism could not coexist, and that communism was destined, by historical necessity, to overwhelm capitalism.  That translated into an agenda whereby Stalin and the USSR would destroy the West . . . and conquer the world. 

It was that lethal, megalomaniacal illusion which alarmed Kennan.

The Diplomat’s Communiqués

In a celebrated series of announcements, George Kennan articulated his view of the Soviet communist threat, and the preferred method for the West to counter the threat—the State Department “Long Telegram” of 1946, the similar “Mr. X” article in Foreign Affairs of 1947, and the New York Times “Fateful Error” article of 1997.  Kennan offered, essentially, four principles in dealing with the conflict between Stalin’s communist Russia and the capitalist West.

• Containment. First, the world-wide expansion of communism must be contained. The West should not fool itself into believing that Stalin’s Soviet regime was either benign or reasonable. That containment must be firm and consistent across the world. To accomplish that, Western countries needed to be confident of their own histories and cultures, despite coruscating Soviet hectoring, and unified in their opposition to a dangerous and irrational foe. 
• Non-Threat. Second, Russia had a long history of being attacked and bullied from every direction—from the north, in the form of Vikings, such as the Rus tribe; from the west, in the form of Napoleon and his Grande Armée; from the east, in the form of the Mongols; from the south, in the form of the Ottomans; and from on high, in the form of often brutal Tsars and exploitive, entitled aristocrats.  Suspiciousness, and a craving for total control, were understandable sociopolitical consequences. Correspondingly, that meant that the West should avoid threatening Russia beyond sheer containment.
• Military option. Third, in a similar vein, the back-up strategy for dealing with the Soviets would be the military. Thus, showcasing threatening Western military hardware, programs, and personnel (saber-rattling), however gratifying to Westerners, would be inadvisable, likely adding fuel to the Soviet-vs.-West flashing, dazzling bonfires of conflict.
• Nation-Building.  Fourth, the preeminent strategy in countering the Soviet threat would be to consciously address the fundamental sociopolitical issue—helping the nations of the world to build up their economic infrastructures, as well as to establish leadership, laws, and administrations which would ensure just distribution of wealth. 

It is the radical split—between the haves and the have-nots, between the owners and the workers, between the overprivileged and the underprivileged, between the rich, entitled class and the poor, striving class—which ignites popular discontent, and cranks up the deceptive appeal of the Marxist-communist promise of broad monetary distribution.  (Not surprisingly, George Kennan was one of the chief architects of the Marshall Plan, which was intended to economically strengthen both vanquished and victor countries weakened by WWII, as a means of checking the expansion of communism.) 

The Diplomatic Persona

One of the wonderful things which arises from Kennan’s writings, such as the “Long Telegram” and the “Mr. X” article, as well as his Memoirs: 1925-1950, is his profound diplomatic persona—gracious, self-possessed, and sophisticated, as well as objective, fact-based, logical, causal, and thorough. Not only was he an astute contemporary observer of his assigned diplomatic scene, but he could place that current regime in its historical context, which helped to clarify and explain observed political attitudes and agendas. In addition, after coolly analyzing the target Soviet political system, he calmly, but forcefully, reacted to his observations and analyses with controlled concern relative to the values and objectives of his own country (that is, promoting neither benign neglect, nor incendiary hysteria). Taking all that a step further, he was able to propose plausible corrective actions to perceived problems.

Amazing. A credit to any country.

Kennan Mind

George Kennan, based on his smooth and persuasive writings, appears to have had a remarkably lucid mind, as many have noticed. Without ever making it explicit, Kennan was a subtle, informative systems thinker—an excellent example of someone who notes all the important trees, while keeping in view the forest.  Thus, he had a lively awareness of how parts dynamically interact to produce results. His thinking was pervasively strategic—ever seeking the why of actions, the ultimate objective that gave coherence and meaning to disparate and otherwise opaque political decisions. Ideology, he understood, is always guiding decisions and actions, which are aimed at achieving some proprietary benefit. Together, this led to being conscious of the game-like give-and-take of international relations—how a self-serving move by one competitor triggers a protective countermove by an opposing player. In similar fashion, and perhaps most critically, although he was respectful and professional in his dealings with Russia, Kennan was acutely aware that political statements from interested parties are often, if not de rigueur, only loosely connected to reality. That is, he was a sophisticated consumer of information—the savvy listener who penetrates to the truth behind the language.

Genius.

The shrewdness of his assessments, and the lucidity of his writings may partially have flowed from a mind which seemed to possess a solid neuropsychological foundation. He appeared to have acquired a wealth of basic schemas to apply to situations, such as Stalinist Soviet Russia, allowing him to make excellent sense of his observations. 

Linguistics (e.g., Noam Chomsky’s work) claims that language consists of a handful of basic concepts, termed deep structure, which then can be rearranged creatively into the welter of statements with which we are familiar, termed surface structure. This deep-structureàsurface-structure idea is like an artist’s palette, with which a restricted number of colors can be combined into an infinite array of different paintings. Each deep structure can be seen as a schema for analysis—that is, life here has so-and-so basic arrangement . . . or life over there has such-and-such basic arrangement. 

Neuropsychology seems to work in the same way. As basic concepts are clarified, analyses of specific situations are clarified. Thereby, Kennan, with an apparent mastery of foundational mental processes, arrived at remarkably lucid analyses of Russia in general, and Stalinist Soviet Russia in particular. To understand Kennan’s conclusions, and his process of analysis, it may be useful to try to identify what seem to be key deep-structure elements in Kennan’s writings, and his diplomatic persona.

Serenity. Clear thinking calls for a stable emotional and conceptual platform.  Kennan was immersed, in Soviet Russia, in a physically dangerous, threatening world, characterized by a blizzard of assaultive, conflicting, incendiary, and often baseless claims and charges. He could have become confused, or angry, or vindictive. But he kept his cool, kept a level head. His viewpoint remained Apollonian—elevated, comprehensive, logical, and rational. 

Psychological conceptualization. Despite its complexity, a nation can be seen as having a describable personality. Approaching a nation as if it were a person—with coherent goals and habitual means—that is, analyzing it psychologically, can help capture the nation’s primary qualities, and can make the nation more understandable, and thereby easier to deal with. 

For example, Kennan saw the Stalinist regime as irrational, emotionally driven, chronically suspicious, homicidal, and obsessively agitated. The proper approach to such a disordered personality normally would be that of a doctor—detached, calm, objective, and focused on recovery.

Optimistic. His basic stance towards life, and politics, was factual and probabilistic—consciously managing the essentials, the obvious threats and opportunities. Therefore, Kennan remained positive and hopeful, because as situations are grasped in a tangible, coherent way, they usually become more manageable, which generates optimism.

For example, the Soviets, on the grounds of their ideological miasma, claimed that violent, fixed-total/zero-sum conflict with capitalism was going to be unavoidable, resulting in complete destruction of capitalist countries. Commensurately, various factions on the capitalist side, particularly the more fanatical ones, feared that violent conflict with, and domination of, communism was essential to capitalistic survival. 

Kennan was the cool-handed diplomat. He was optimistic that a non-violent, economically proactive, systemic blocking of Soviet expansion, and concomitant peaceful coexistence, were both possible, and likely.

Empathy. In the heat of ideology-based battle, when tensions rise, and survival appears threatened, it is tempting, and perhaps strategically beneficial, to lose any fellow-feeling for opponents. (They say that the first casualty of war is truth, but it’s probably compassion, the spin coming later.) Kennan never seemed to fall into that trap of dangerous, excessive self-referenced perception. He retained his insightful sensitivity to opponents’ limitations. 

For example, Kennan intuited that Stalin, likely, was the center of a maelstrom of disinformation, promulgated by scheming internal competitors for power, all working their own agendas of advantage, and spinning incoming intelligence accordingly. Thereby, despite any Western presumptions, Stalin may not have been aware that, aside from his own provocations, the West was not aligned against him. Stalin’s internal gulags, and his external drive to destroy the West, may have been at least partly generated by devious misinformation coming from inside his own political system. 

(Such a radically broad perspective as Kennan’s depends on a deep, stable mind!)

Pragmatic Idealism. The total frame of Kennan’s thinking was a just and rational world—competent, sane, responsible leaders and administrations, managing thriving economies, in which resources are distributed fairly, as guided by sound educational systems, and media which provide accurate, relevant information for sensible decision-making. 

By contrast, of course, both the Soviet and American administrations were populated with fire-breathers who relished nothing more than good slam-bang witch-hunts which forever after would enshrine their superiority across the whole world. Kennan’s faith was that calm reason, firmly grounded on compassion and economic equity, would eventually prevail over such ultimately self-destructive, take-no-prisoners ego games.

Holistic Perception. Ideology is supposed to eventually segue into action, which then is supposed to result in some benefit to the group espousing the ideology and generating the action. To be effective with boots on the ground, in the thick of the fight, a certain kind of person is usually in charge of carrying out the action—a warlike personality which can focus on very narrow objectives, a personality both brash and rash, willing to crash through obstacles, and smash opponents, without so much as a by-your-leave. 

However, contrariwise, as a balance, it is very useful for top leaders to be able to access the opinions of a radically different kind of person—of a more philosophical bent, interested in seeing an inclusive picture of a situation as it really is, interested in weaving together various strands of influence into an objective, realistic, holistic view. That was George Kennan. 

For example, he was aware that the frantic ideologues of Moscow were somewhat narrowly focused on retaining, and enlarging, their own power relative to internal rivals and relative to external rivals. And he was aware that similarly aroused ideologues in the West were of the opinion that communists were a one-trick pony of negligible merit.

By contrast, Kennan arrived at an excellent view of the whole sociopolitical scheme . . . the game above the game. 

Game Theory. Games seem trivial, and politics is serious business. So, it may look like using games as a schema for analyzing politics would be inappropriate.  But at an abstract level, game theory fits political decision-making surprisingly well. Games are strategic operations, with objectives (which is to say, ends), and rules (which is to say, means). Moves by one side, aimed at gaining some advantage, are usually matched by countermoves from the opposition. Players usually are interchangeable, and often, if injured, can be replaced, injuries being part of the cost of victory. (Pawns, after all, are sacrificed for royalty, on the chessboard, and in life.)

The Soviets, in Kennan’s view, displayed a stunningly hard-hearted, game-like attitude toward human lives. The USSR was a concatenation of ethnicities, traditions, regions and nations (such as Estonia, Latvia, and Georgia), all jammed together through cold, relentless violence. Stalin seemed to perceive everyone under his command to be simply a counter in a larger game, to be played according to his will, until triumph was total. 

Kennan was neither impressed, nor intimidated, by the misguided Soviet game-players.

Objectivity. A natural tendency of humanity is to strive for dominance over resources in competition with others, that is, to be biased toward one’s own group, and therefore to twist information favorably.  Kennan was deeply committed to his diplomatic role—which to him meant providing to his government unbiased, objective observations about Russia and the Soviets, accurate information which would provide his administration with a sound basis for international decision-making. That included bravely letting his observational chips fall where they may, disconcerting whichever factions in Washington chose to be disconcerted. 

For example, he grasped that, from a propaganda stance, the American government, in promoting its anti-communist views to the West, would prefer to receive dispatches from Moscow which were black and white, electrifying and motivating, and favorable to the West, not neatly nuanced in a scholarly manner.  However, Kennan could see that there was a distinction between Soviet leadership, which was fanatically aggressive, and the Russian people, who were primarily concerned with survival, not with any rivalry with the West, capitalist or otherwise. Therefore, Kennan passed on to his government his nuanced, objective view of the decency of the Russian people, and the splendor of the history they had produced.

Validation. Proponents of national positions make claims favorable to themselves, which, in the absence of contrary information, might be convincing.  But, in the case of propaganda, the claims likely are false. Therefore, advocates’ statements, rather than being passed on in toto, should be checked against common sense, available data, and obvious logic.    

For example, Lenin cataloged numerous criticisms of capitalism, then announced, smugly, that the capitalist countries were absolutely on the verge of toppling over; therefore, all that was needed for the triumphant forward march of communism was a bare push from Russia. Dramatic, appealing, motivating. But, as Kennan pointed out, a logical and quantitative survey of the USSR showed that it was on shaky economic and political ground; by contrast, capitalist countries were creative and thriving. Thus, Kennan perceived that this beguiling, almost magical propaganda, quite favorable to Lenin, was . . . absurd.

As another example, the Soviets promoted the idea that Marxism necessitated a dictatorship. Dictatorship, they claimed, was inherent in the ideology, and in the language. That position was part of the Soviet justification for instituting a brutal dictatorship. 

Not so, said Kennan. 

Marx’s essential idea was that the workers, the proximate source of industrial wealth, should be granted a correspondingly large proportion of industrial revenue. The reason the Bolsheviks, a tiny minority, instituted a terrifying dictatorship was primarily to hijack the power in a country characterized by a multitude of competing groups, including workers, serfs, aristocrats, the military, and merchants, not to mention the rival political machine, the Mensheviks. Violent dictatorship was a move favoring the Communist Party leadership, not favoring the people—the workers and the serfs—contrary propaganda notwithstanding.

Alertness to Repercussions. Political game-players have a woeful tendency to conveniently assume that what is good for them not only will be acceptable to competitors, but competitors will not perceive themselves as the losers in a zero-sum game, and will not counterattack. A dangerous fantasy. 

As an excellent systemic thinker, Kennan had a lively awareness that a modification in one part of a system, depending on its cost-benefit effects, is likely to trigger protective repercussions coming in from another part of the system. He grasped that political acts are rarely isolated, that is, reaction-free, despite decision-makers wishing to perceive them so.  (Even politicians dream of a free lunch.)

For example, establishing NATO in too-close proximity to the borders of Russia could result in Russia feeling threatened, then, predictably, counterattacking—which is to say, defending itself. (Everyone likes their space.)

Shrewd Analysis of Human Nature. Communist and capitalist ideologies, and corresponding propagandas, generated a confusing blizzard of conceptual flak.  The Soviets were sure that the only salvation for humanity lay in the worldwide acceptance of brutal dictatorships coordinated by themselves from Moscow.  The West was sure that the only salvation for humanity lay in the worldwide acceptance of corporate control run by financiers.

By contrast, ferocious and narrow-minded leaders aside, the bulk of any population just wants to live in peace. However . . . a citizenry will abide a marked, inequitable economic split between the workers and the overseers only for so long before they become seriously discontented, and begin to contemplate radical, corrective, possibly explosive action. 

Kennan could see that if a national economic system were essentially just, the communist siren song—mutuality of resources, but within an uncompromising dictatorship—would have minimal appeal. Therefore, the key to blocking the spread of communism would be a proactive program of economic development of all nations such that all members of a society could gain a generous supply of necessities. The whole society would end up, in effect, healthy and reasonably satisfied—that should be the goal of a truly humanitarian, successful, and savvy program of international relations.

Causal Sophistication. Behavior has sources. Identification of those sources can help explain and predict the behavior. At every step Kennan smoothly and logically placed events within an explanatory causal matrix, seeking the psychosocial why of events—cannily noting the antecedents, then probabilistically inferring the consequents.

For example, why are the Russians chronically suspicious? It’s because Russia is a vast farm country easy for nomadic bandits to invade, then brutally harvest.  Consequently, Russia has been cruelly attacked, unexpectedly, from east, west, north, and south over hundreds and hundreds of years, not the least of the attackers, and resident despots, having been the merciless, meticulously trained and organized Mongols.

Why do the Russians show a cranky, perplexing, persistent preference for aggressive authoritarian governments? It’s because it looks like only a powerful leader can control an immense, wealthy country containing, and contending with, a variety of competing cultures, pretenders, and demanders. Arrogant, abrasive, evasive, exploitive authorities are all the Russian people have ever known—the limits of their experience, as well as the foundation of their sense of security.  

Not a happy arrangement, exactly, but familiar.

An Assyrian Connection

According to Kennan’s survey, the Soviet system was a touch paranoid—a nightmarish mentality of danger everywhere, with salvation forever just out of reach, possibly beyond hope. Like someone flailing in the water, grasping for a life preserver, or a floating log, or anything, really. Then, because that anarchy breeds desperation, the power-seekers insist on totalitarian control of every single thought, movement, and statement by anyone with a soupçon of opposition. And not just questioning of the opposition, or a blocking of opposition, but a terrifying crushing of the opposition. And not just total control of everything within claimed borders, but an octopus of ambition, reaching out in every direction, forever, alert to the least hint of danger. 

Kafkaesque! 

Now, what’s interesting in all this, is that this pattern of paranoid presumption linked to brutal totalitarian control . . . is, in history, eerily familiar. Yes, that’s it—it’s very . . . Assyrian. 

The Assyrians were in tight control of all of Mesopotamia (the Middle East) about 3,000 years ago. Purveyors of sadistic oppression and exploitation reaching almost mythological heights, the Assyrians might amount to a historical prototype for arrogant political violence. That template becoming, thereafter, perhaps, a perennially lurking shadow of civilizations, a disguised agenda of too many otherwise upright nations harboring an inclination towards lucrative dominance.

(Nota bene: in this essay, the term Assyrian refers, not to modern-day Assyrians; nor to the first Assyrian Empire, the Old Assyrians, 2000-1600 BCE, primarily traders; but to the Neo-Assyrians, of 883-612 BCE. Some useful historical sources are Bottéro’s Mesopotamia: Writing, Reasoning, and the Gods, Healy’s The Ancient Assyrians, Leick’s Mesopotamia, the Invention of the City, Orlin’s Life and Thought in the Ancient Near East, and Johnson’s History of the Jews, as well as the sorrow and lamentations of the Old Testament.) 

The Assyrian Syndrome

Strictly speaking, a syndrome is a collection of symptoms in the absence of a specifiable cause. But the source of what might be called the Assyrian Syndrome is probably greed, and, should the psychoanalysts be given a nod, beneath the greed likely lies a profound sense of affectional deprivation. If the source of a set of symptoms has been identified, then it is more properly labeled a disease. So, it might be more fitting to call this the Assyrian Disease. 

But that seems a trifle harsh.

Intriguingly, perhaps not coincidentally, baked-clay cuneiform letters between Old Assyria family members have been discovered in abundance (as reported by Bouscaren in Archaeology). The letters were sent back and forth between the east, in Assyria, and the west, in Kanesh, site of an Assyrian trading station in distant Anatolia. This exchange of questions and answers provides a sense, at least, of Assyrian family relations (naturally, limitations of sampling and generalization abound). 

The most striking qualities in the Assyrian family correspondence are negativity and materialism—such as criticisms, demands, complaints, hectoring, charges of betrayal, legal disputes, and the accusation that an obsession with wealth has come to exclude traditional familial concerns. Minimal love and affection!  Just . . . getting on with the business of getting rich. A long-term psychosocial foundation, conceivably, for a scorched-earth, bandit mentality.

Ashurbanipal (668-627 BCE) was one of the most powerful of the Assyrian kings; as the British Museum pointed out, he modestly announced, “I am Ashurbanipal, king of the world”. This shy, sweet lad had a falling out with his brother, and here are some of his telling remarks on Assyrian sibling rivalry: “Hostile brother” . . . “Brother for whom I performed (many acts of) kindness” . . . “He forgot (the acts of) kindness I had done for him” . . . “My unfaithful brother who did not honor my treaty” . . . “My enemy” (Zaia, “My Brother’s Keeper”, University of Helsinki). Not too surprisingly, Ashurbanipal’s brother met an untimely, and wretched, death.

If we are satisfied with the milder epithet, then the Assyrian Syndrome (bless its heart)—the totalitarian craving—can be conceived of as having these prominent symptoms, signs, and dynamics:

Entitlement. Some may wonder where the Assyrians got the cchheeeeeekk to take all their neighbors’ stuff, and in such brassy fashion.  Okay, they got it from Ashur, their god of storms and war (e.g., see Healy’s Ancient Assyrians).  Ashur, through the priests, and priestly writings, commanded the kings of Assyria to continuously expand the boundaries of Assyria, establishing solemn covenants of tribute with vassal states, ensuring an incoming flood of goodies.  In other words (according to Ashur), the deal is—your neighbors’ stuff is your stuff. 

Loss of love. As alluded to above, the first and near-fatal step appears to be a deep, and very difficult, sense of loss of love.  If family love, and, to some degree, community love, are missed in the beginning stages of development, it’s very hard to ever quite satisfy that primeval craving for affectionate contact, respect, and essential security; it’s hard to ever recover that foundational family Garden of Belonging. 

(Not to belabor the obvious, but having a storm god, Ashur, whose métier is murder, mayhem, and purloined acquisition, as ruler of the universe, probably is not the very most promising basis for an affectionate, nurturing, secure existence.)

Compensation.  The mind then scavenges about for a symbolic substitute, something analogous, which looks like it might stop the pain, and fill the emotional void.  Gold, silver, ivory, ebony, linen, wool, lapis lazuli, horses, chariots, wine, and oodles of someone else’s land and water look like they might fill the bill.  And they do.  For a while.  But, like all compensatory addictions, tolerance develops, and then, to have the same gratifying effect, there must be much more, then, more again . . . thereby did the Assyrians establish one of the first true empires.

Authoritarianism.  Democracy means everyone has a say-so.  Multiple rights and opinions must be taken into account, and discussed.  Then a fair and untrammeled vote must be taken.  Subsequently, everyone involved has a duty to abide by the group decision.  And all this should transpire in a cooperative atmosphere of koinonia—shared opportunities, shared control.   

Well!  Authoritarians aren’t having any truck with that idea.  Authoritarians want to have it their way, right now, every time. 

Anyone who disagrees is toast.

Terrifying brutality.  In addition to a deep and haunting sense of emptiness, family emotional deprivation is painful, thus tends to spawn rage and sadism.  Emotionally deprived people can develop a craving to reverse the hurt, and to transfer their pain onto other people, with a certain gleeful gusto. (As if to say, “I hurt, but they hurt worse—which, by comparison, makes me feel better”.)

Thus, the Assyrians’ enthusiasm for physically tearing to pieces rival kings and princes, humiliating them, putting their heads on stakes, destroying property, stealing prizes, pitching entire populations into the fire, leveling orchards, uprooting vineyards, then sowing salt.  Such became the incendiary legends of terror across Mesopotamia.  That notorious phenomenon popped diverse nations, viziers, and kings left and right into the Assyrian line-up, with barely a complaint.  That is, winning isn’t everything—the Assyrian key target was breaking the confidence, and will, of the enemy, thereby destroying the basis of further opposition.

Sending competitors/victims into paralyzing panic mode through terror (psychological warfare) appears to be, to a certain cast of mind, nothing more than a useful, therefore justifiable, component of the business of conquest and control, and the consequent exploitation of other people’s resources.  The Assyrians may have been the original, electrifying model of what might be called Assyrianism, but many have been their devotees—Genghis Khan’s Mongolian army, Torquemada’s Inquisitors, Hitler’s Gestapo, Tojo’s secret police, and Stalin’s CHEKA . . . to name some of history’s leading toxic pied pipers, and their cheerful minions. 

(All of which is not to mention that chronic crucible of dogmatism and stunningly unchivalrous combat, Mesopotamia’s red-headed stepchild, and drama queen—the Middle East.)

The Assyrian Cultural Template (Assyrian Mind)

With scant fear of contradiction, one might opine that the Assyrians were about as spectacularly vile a slice of humanity as one could hope to find.  Imaginative brutality rising to such a gleeful pitch as to put the modern movie industry, publishing, and media to shame.  The original Well-Oiled Mean Machine. 
So, what do we have here?  A glittering wraith . . . of archetypal power.

Commercial acumen.  The obsessive drive of Assyria, ultimately, was not violence, but wealth.  The overriding purpose of the geography grab, military might, and terrifying sadism was to turn Assyria, and eventually its jewel of a capital, Nineveh, into a luxurious, cosmopolitan, artistic paradise—the pride of its citizens, and the envy of all other nations.

The Assyrians were very astute merchants, grasping that successful trade depended on having a reliable flood of consistently excellent material to offer, like cedar wood, copper, jewels and beautiful textiles; it was conquest which made that possible.  Assyrians consciously elevated their artistic taste and sense of material and construction quality, partly so they could develop an attractive, lucrative line of goods.  A major ancillary enterprise was the contractual lending of wealth, and they were rigorous about demanding hefty profits.  

(When you have a monopoly, backed up by mondo professionals wielding sharp swords, you can name your price.)

Precise recordkeeping.  Part of being a successful merchant is keeping meticulous books logging inflow and outflow.  The Assyrians were world-class accountants.  That’s one of the things which astonishes archaeologists today—the number of baked clay cuneiform tablets, logging long-ago transactions, which has been discovered, is overwhelming.  Scribes conscientiously noted the linen, the woolens, the silver, the gold, the jewels, and the slaves gleefully collected from kinder, gentler civilizations and sent back to Assyrian headquarters.  It goes without saying that records of acquisitions from the fields had to match the records of incoming merchandise at headquarters. (Or somebody disappeared.  Uncomfortably.)

First-class education.  It’s not obvious, certainly not from movies like One Night with the King, Samson and Delilah, or Exodus, but the impact and authority of the Assyrians rested, to a surprising extent, on thorough, rigorous development and mastery of written language (that mystifying cuneiform), mathematics (e.g., astronomical predictions), and literature (e.g., Gilgamesh).  The Assyrians were open to new ideas from everywhere—a clever, experimental, innovative civilization, rigorously marshaled.

Ashurbanipal, the king at the height of Assyria’s dominance, assembled the best library of his time (e.g., history, law, myths, and their own Medical Encyclopedia).  He shyly showcased his intellectual competence with, “(I was) granted . . . a receptive mind and ample thought . . . I learned the hidden treasure of all scribal knowledge . . .  I have read the artistic script of Sumer and the dark Akkadian, which is hard to master, taking pleasure in reading” (Healey’s Ancient Assyrians).

Integration of Thinking and Doing.  The classical Greeks, template of the West, created an unfortunate schism between thinkers, like Plato, and doers, like the Spartans.  The Assyrians, lords of Mesopotamia, astutely integrated both functions, seeming to recognize that high intellect linked to targeted action form a powerful combination (cf. Caesar, Napoleon, in the West). 

Organization.  Assyrian power was intelligently centralized as well as distributed, something like the earlier Akkadians of Sargon, and the later Persian satraps—a true empire.  There was a central headquarters, like Nineveh, and then there were vassal states run by appointed governors, as at Babylon, or Judah.  The regional governors made sure everything functioned correctly in the vassal states, and made sure to send copious tribute every year to headquarters.  Thereby, the Assyrian king’s span of control was manageable, incoming information was precise and correct, and everything under his command ran smoothly.  (Or somebody died. Unpleasantly.) 

Charm and hospitality.  Sociopaths are renowned for having a duality in their personalities.  Side one is the obvious—unquestioning entitlement, relentless exploitation, and unhesitating brutality, as well as an uncanny knack for the slick sophistry that functions as warrants for decisions and actions.  (Ergo: “You think we did something wrong?  What nonsense!  We had every right to level Lachish.  And they had no right to defy us.  It’s just that simple.  Damascus is next.”) 

Side two is almost the reverse personality—focused mind, crisp analysis, unerring perceptiveness, well-organized behavior, impressive industriousness, high competence, unshakable poise, and then the sugary, gracious courtliness.  All that is to facilitate gaining dominance—a position from which to exploit a situation.  If people are doing what they want them to, sociopaths couldn’t be nicer, or more helpful.  (The if-then logic of stick and carrot.)

In keeping with that, once the Assyrians had ruthlessly kidnapped thousands of high-class, useful locals—scribes and chariot-drivers, for example, say, from Ur, or Samaria, and made the decision to escort them back to Nineveh for residency—the kidnappers performed a psychosocial about-face.  Thenceforth, they were genuinely friendly and supportive towards their thousands of newly-minted Assyrian citizens, making sure they stayed comfortable and had plenty to eat and drink on the trek to their new home.  (Loyalty is a useful thing to nurture.)

Similarly, visiting regional governors, with their copious largess, their annual tributes, were treated by the jolly king to gracious honors, gifts, and feasting (a.k.a., partying), and that in what was probably the most beautiful city in the world (the Paris, or Venice, of its day).  Despite the king wielding enormous power, being nice to the visitors made life simpler for the king; a happy, charmed governor was less problematic, time-consuming, and expensive than a resentful, brooding governor, who might just conceive a notion to cast off that onerous Assyrian yoke.

Communication.  The image one has of “communication” among brutal bandits from long ago is of, maybe, grunts, whistles, and bandannas waved from distant hillsides.  Nothing could be further from the truth; the Assyrians were communicators to a fare-thee-well. 

Letters, contracts, and self-promoting PR went lickety-split—as with the Persians, the Romans, and in the American West, with its Pony Express.  The Assyrians built and maintained a sprawling network of official roads all across Mesopotamia—the King’s Road.  Locals were mandated to establish and maintain, every so-and-so many miles, road stations, where messenger riders and their fast horses could stop, drink, eat, and refresh, then hurry on.  A cuneiform letter from one of the Assyrian network’s many highly-placed intelligence agents, conveying critical news, like, TROUBLE IN JUDAH, HEZEKIAH REBELLING, could get from the Mediterranean, in the west, to Nineveh, over five hundred miles to the east, in a few days. 

And the Assyrian king kept right on top of these things.  (The quicker that sparks of defiance could be extinguished, the better.)

Civic vision.  When people see a splendid civitas, like Paris, they trend to assume it just arose, somehow, like a lotus blossom in a muddy pond.  But the reality is both more, and less, prosaic.  Fabulous design is usually the child of a brilliant, forceful designer.  Paris, the storied city of light and love, was the vision of Napoleon III and his chief architect, Baron Haussmann.  The iconic Parthenon and Acropolis were projects of Pericles.  Lush, and beloved, Central Park in New York City was the work of Frederick Law Olmsted.

The Assyrian kings, like Ashurbanipal, vicious though they may have been, were aesthetes.  They envisioned, then built, the most marvelous cities heretofore seen, trumpeting their constructions with florid bravado.         

Magnificent, impressive gates placed in enormous walls.  Astonishing, imaginative, giant sculptures.  Broad, serviceable thoroughfares.  Parks and zoos stocked with exotic animals and plants from all over Mesopotamia.  Canals, aqueducts, and tunnels bringing in fresh water.  Bustling marketplaces.  Grand houses.  Imposing temples.  A huge, showy, luxurious palace lined with excellently-carved artworks displaying the king’s fearsome might.  (As the poet Coleridge put the issue, “A stately pleasure-dome decree/Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree/And all who heard should see them there/And all should cry, Beware! Beware!”)

Ambitious reach.  Probably, there was a certain behavioral, interactive, shaping and addiction process going on in ancient Mesopotamia, slightly out of control, in which a little violence got good results, but then victims got used to that, so the violence level had to be ratcheted upward.  The viciousness had to stretch higher and higher, over time, to retain its effectiveness.  And every neighbor brutalized, and shaken down for property and personnel, had a neighbor a little farther out who was threatened by the brutalization and the thefts and the kidnappings, and might risk a defiant, preemptive defense.  So, the scope of Assyrian conquests kept enlarging, and enlarging—every crushing conquest necessitating another, and another, farther and farther away.  Like stepping on an escalator, or grabbing a tiger by the tail. 

Nonetheless . . . the copious records of the Assyrians clearly indicate that they were, indeed, daring civic visionaries who wanted to construct a vast empire which would generate glorious cities and a marvelous lifestyle, at least for themselves.  They were excellent planners, and virtuosos at the management of projects of such scope, of such immense, complex logistics, that they would, and did, boggle lesser minds, as the Assyrians made end-runs around those . . . pathetic . . . insignificant . . . neighbor folk.

Contemptuous?  Clearly.  Greedy?  Undoubtedly.  Raging and brutal?  No question about it.  Outrageous?  Their infamy lives on.  Self-destructive?  Yes . . .  ultimately.

Yet, again . . . ambitious, imaginative, well-schooled, linguistically commanding, well-organized, essentially fearless, militarily dominant, artistically sophisticated; and charming and generous when they wanted to be.  And enormously wealthy.  Over hundreds of years, across thousands of miles, thousands of years ago.  

From a certain toxic perspective . . . impressive.

To Everything There Is a Season

Edward Luttwak is one of the world’s premier theoreticians of political conflict and war (e.g., Strategy: The Logic of War and Peace).  His essential proposal is that international conflict is something of an eternal poker game, in which there are no real winners.  (Ergo: “I bid one missile.”  “I’ll see your one missile, and raise you one missile, and a jet fighter.”)  Round and round such thinking goes, up and up, in a rising spiral of violence progressively more destructive, thus progressively more difficult to control.  A crushing victory from one side invites, if not demands, another, roaring in from the other side. 

Luttwak’s Law finally caught up with the Assyrians in 612 BCE.

Their good luck ran out in an Assyrian kingship succession battle, with the usual backstairs maneuverings for control, resulting in the usual political chaos, and the usual military disorganization and dangerous exposure.  Those ever-pesky, bossy Medes and those feisty, brilliant Babylonians saw their chance, and, in concert, they pounced on Assyria in 612 BCE.  They killed everything that moved, and righteously leveled Nineveh . . . never to rise again.

“Woe to the city of blood, full of lies, full of plunder, never without victims!  The crack of whips . . . King of Assyria . . . Nothing can heal you; your wound is fatal.  All who hear the news about you clap their hands at your fall, for who has not felt your endless cruelty?” (Nahum, Old Testament.)

The Assyrian greed, and underlying coldness and fear, unfortunately blocked the insight that a strong, and well-run, but fair system would generate fewer resentments, and last longer.  Uncompromising power, and majestic wealth, weren’t enough. . . and then were . . . too much.

A young Bob Dylan once wrote a touching song which muses, "I was a long time a-comin' an' I'll be a long time gone".  Sad to say, that hasn’t happened quite yet with the . . .  Assyrian Template of Brutal Dominance.  It’s still around.  Alive and unwell, as one might say.

Gunfight at the Soviet Corral

There’s a classic film, starring Yul Brynner, The Magnificent Seven, which is reminiscent of all those old gunfighter movies.  It’s a parable of the virtuous, but vulnerable, trying to defend themselves against the formidable, and evil.  The story is that simple farming peasants are being exploited by a bandit gang, led by the chief antagonist, named Calvera.  The Magnificent Seven, a ragtag crew of idealistic gunfighters, led by Brynner, agree to help defend the village of simple, good people against the incursions of the vile gang.  The gang arrives at the village expecting to extort food for the bandits for the winter.  To Calvera’s surprise, he finds himself negotiating, not with frightened peasants, but with seven cool-handed gunfighters.  Brynner confronts the gang, and Calvera, calmly telling him, “There won’t be any trouble . . . if you ride on.” 

That was Kennan.  The Diplomatic Paladin par excellence.

The Bolsheviks’ Bad Boy

Russia has just had a hard way to go.  It’s not easy to build a country which stretches east-west from Europe to Japan, and north-south from the Artic Circle to the Black Sea; which attempts to reconcile religions ranging from the Orthodox, to Islam, to shamanism; and which attempts to fruitfully integrate peoples ranging from Vikings and Sámi People, to Scythians, Georgians, and Caucasians, to Turks and Asians; while trying to link Tsarist cultural magnificence with justice for ordinary workers, and serfs.  It’s no wonder they are always trying to expand their boundaries, to leave themselves behind, as it were, and to forge a fresh identity.

Yet, after all, . . . why?  Russia is a great country, with a marvelous history and culture.  For example, the enterprise, intelligence, and sophistication of rulers like Catherine the Great and Peter the Great.  The storybook charm and color of Saint Basil’s Cathedral.  The rapturous force of Tchaikovsky and Rachmaninoff.  The literary genius of Tolstoy and Pushkin.  The elegance of the Bolshoi and the Hermitage.  Let alone the ever-popular Russian Caravan Tea, samovars, and beef piroshki. 

Perhaps it’s as the Diplomatic Paladin George Kennan suggested—if you can manage it, simply do this: run a good country, and live good lives, and take satisfaction in all that you have accomplished . . . right where you are.

Then he rode out of town.

Sun Also Rises
The Sage controls the people with the highest principles
And governs them with Righteousness.
War is like unto fire;
Those who will not put aside weapons
Are themselves consumed by them.
-Sun Tzu

***

***

Dr Steve Davidson is a clinical psychologist in Laguna Beach, California, and a contributing editor to The Montreal Review. He has developed a new theory of personality and psychotherapy called human operations. It conceives of people as goal-oriented systems aimed at surviving and thriving, as described in his book An Introduction to Human Operations Psychotherapy.

***