Look behind you, and remember that you are human.
Such were the words spoken to a Roman General, on the occasion of his triumph, spoken to him by a slave riding behind him on a chariot drawn by four white horses, holding above his head a wreath. On this occasion, when the general was being revered and celebrated as a god for his victory in battle, the duty of the slave was to not allow the affair to go to the general’s head.
This legend is well known, and believed by nearly all to be true. But it isn’t, as Mary Beard revealed in her extraordinary book on the Roman triumph. It is merely another of those enduring myths of history that we continue to tell because it sounds nice. I suppose it is fitting. Were Julius Caesar or Octavian human after all? Not to you or to me, in any meaningful way.
In a month’s time, my best friend will have been dead a decade. We buried him on Valentine’s Day, 1998. He has already been dead far longer than I ever knew him.
There are a lot of things no one tells you about death before it happens to someone you are close to. No one ever mentions the logistics. No one ever tells you how many people have to be called and informed and you’ll end up having to do a lot of that, or that you’ll spend a fair part of the next day working through the logistics of getting as many people as you can to the funeral. No one warns you that pallbearers do not step forward and volunteer, but have to be chosen and asked. And worst of all, death will not allow you to hide from the truths about the people you loved or the things you in turn hid from them. I had to discover and live with the fact that my friend lied to and betrayed me many times, and that I lied to and betrayed him at the least equally. And worst of all, he was now beyond my capacity to forgive and to ask for forgiveness.
Now is a heady time for us. Much of our mission here seems to be on the verge of fruition; in Iowa and in New Hampshire, the American people have spoken that whichever candidate they prefer, the future for now lies with the Democrats. Though much has yet to be done in order to ensure that future, I have abiding faith in our willingness to continue on the path we have chosen as activists for the Democratic party and the United States of America.
Despite the miles to go before we sleep, we ought to take a moment to recognize ourselves. All of us, each person who will likely read this, was once a voice crying out in a lonely wilderness. We were those who fought to prevent a disasterous war in Iraq when the vast majority of our nation supported it. We were those who saw a corrupt Republican regime in Washington, a dishonest and complicit mass media in support of it, and a political culture which dishonored and demeaned the empirical truth and chose to fight against those odds. And indeed, as I speak to you now they have been brought to their knees. And you were all a significant part of that, and still are.
But in spite of the historical falsehood of the cant of respice post te, hominem te memento, it remains excellent advice. Most important at the moments of our triumph, it is important for us to look behind us, and remember that we are human. And to remember all the human frailty that is implicit in that. Whether we win or lose, we will disappoint, we will lie, we will betray. And as we do, so will our elected representatives at all levels. They are a reflection of us – we ought to expect as much disappointment in Nancy Pelosi or our Presidential nominee as we find in our selves, our friends and our families. After all, all humans have over 90% of the same DNA.
One of the hardest things I have had to face in my life is how to be disappointed in myself and in others and to love others and myself regardless. This is so difficult; how easy and tempting it is to wallow in my flaws and inability to overcome them and resign myself rather than try to be better, even if "fixed" is impossible?
What helps motivate me to not give up in the face of the long odds that my own involvement creates in everything I do is to remember that every little bit better that each of us are makes the world a measurably better place for everyone. That extra bit of love, of forgiveness, of consideration that you give to others and indeed yourself improves your life and that of everyone around you. This does not require that you and others are great people – indeed, it makes such a difference in large part because the world and the people in it, including ourselves, aren’t all that great.
The legendary John Wooden once said that winning is the easy part; it is life that is hard. Don’t forget, no matter what happens in the next primary or election, to be human. To love and forgive and care for the people you are with in this world. Don’t forget to be humble, to remember that even the smartest and wisest among us are often disasterously wrong. And don’t forget that you are supposed to be wrong sometimes, supposed to get fooled, and supposed to get disappointed. No matter what, many of us will be wrong about the future, and who will win the coming elections and what those victories will mean. Being wrong is hardly the worst thing that could happen. The worst that could happen would be that defeat convinced us to stop trying.
We are where we are today because we tried against seemingly impossible odds. What could be more human but to keep striving, up to and beyond the point of reason?