Below is the first part of my essay in the Hegelian series -- The Allegory of Liberty Soup. This post is my way of commemorating Patriots' Day.
THE ALLEGORY OF LIBERTY SOUP
The American chefs were the barrel-strength bourbons of humanity. Their life stories express the full flavor of human potential – uncut and unfiltered. Anyone who imbibes their history will detect bittersweet notes of wormwood and Mayflower honey, for the chefs were men of complexity and contradiction. On the one hand, they committed genocide against the Native Americans, enslaved Africans and relegated women to the role of subordinates. On the other hand, they strove to realize their sweet dreams of a free and democratic society.
These chefs so valued the honeyed flavor of liberty that they toiled to extract it from their essence. After many years of such labor, they found success. Unfortunately, they discovered that in the extraction process, the liberty had lost its sweetness. It had become like water – clear, odorless and flavorless. As the chefs were in a land of great richness, they decided to enrich their liberty using the resources at hand. From a nearby mountain range, they extracted metals and fashioned a giant cauldron. From another mountain range, they mined copious amounts of coal to use as cooking fuel. They then poured the liberty into the cauldron and lit the coals underneath it. After a few days, the liberty came to a rolling boil. The chefs sipped it and found it still lacked flavor. They concluded that in addition to the heat, they would need to add other ingredients.
Their first step was to travel to an ancient tree that they greatly valued for its salt-flavored wood. The tree had a symmetrical canopy, which the chefs believed was the secret to its longevity. Accordingly, they took great care in how they harvested the wood. To maintain the canopy’s balance, they trimmed three equal-sized branches from equidistant spots. They then took the branches back to their cauldron and added it to the boiling liberty. After letting the branches simmer for a few days, the chefs tasted the broth. They found it was salty enough to enhance and integrate the flavors of whatever other ingredients they might decide to add. However, the cauldron was far too big for them alone to fill it with ingredients. As a solution, they invited everyone in the land to contribute some ingredients in return for some liberty soup.
As the chefs had anticipated, their friends and associates came from near and far to add their ingredients. What they did not anticipate was that “the other” would also bring their ingredients. Native Americans, African-Americans, and women wanted to add their flavors and eat the soup.
The chefs recoiled against the idea of those others participating. In an attempt to block them, they concocted reasons for why the others ingredients would ruin the soup. Despite such dehumanizing treatment, many of the others stood their ground and insisted that they had the right to add their flavor and eat the soup. With the passage of several generations, many of the others managed to overcome the oppression and partake in the soup. During this stretch of time, the soup developed the epic qualities that it still possesses to this day.
Upon taking a sip, one first tastes the bittersweet of yesteryear. The wormwood and Mayflower honey then unfurls into a sublime orchestra that seems to play upon one’s mouth for an eternity. When the symphony finally draws to a close, one immediately craves the bitter that so powerfully accentuated the indulgence of the sweet. When one takes another sip, the orchestra plays again, but not in the exact same way. Each sip is like a snowflake – although they are all beautiful, no two are exactly alike. Folks who have partaken in the eating of the soup report experiencing a broadening of the mind and enhanced creativity that lasted a life time. Many of these folks credit their success to the soup.
NOTE: I will post the next part of this essay tomorrow.
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