Somehow the world has become even darker since we last met. I’ve been wandering through the corridors of the house of mirrors we call life. Today I’ve been studying this painting by Peter Bruegel from the der Kunsthistorisches Museum in Vienna. When I took the photo, I had one of those moments that happen every once in a while in a person’s life.

I was gobsmacked that I was actually looking at the painting. As I had been the first time I stood in front of a Van Gogh, ‘The Tower of Babel’ was not something I thought that I’d ever see outside of a book. Standing there in der Kunst, I was able to stand in front of it and study it for as long as I wanted. This is a luxury that most people will never experience. When I was younger, I thought that most other people had the opportunity to see these wonderful things. It wasn’t until I actually stood in front of a masterpiece that I realized that really very few people could do what I was doing. I was determined to never let a moment like that ever pass me by.

Today, I was drawn back to this painting. I was thinking about a world that seems to have lost its ability to communicate with one another. Going back to the original story in the bible, I had to wonder what the purpose of it was. I’m not referring to the building of the tower; God knows that since then we’ve built bigger towers dedicated to our own aggrandizement.

Of course the outcome of the destruction of the Tower of Babel was that people lost their common language and were scattered among the lands. So, people couldn’t cooperate, couldn’t build an edifice to their collective egos, and couldn’t challenge their God.

Funnily enough, this got me to thinking about commerce and capitalism (As I said, I’ve been wandering about lately; literally and figuratively). The cornerstone of commerce is communication. The buyer and seller must be able to speak a common language in order for the system to work. Of course what is going on today in the middle east isn’t about commerce per se; it’s about power. Language is conflated to suit whichever side the participants are on. My freedom fighter is your terrorist. Your cause is my anathema. We seem determined to reduce everything important to a catchphrase. Our critical thinking skills have been subjugated by our willingness to believe that which is impossible. It’s as if magical thinking has come to replace our very eyes.

Whose side do you support when all the players have dark motives? In the real world there is often no one in a white hat. At the same time, there is no one in a black hat. There are many people running around in hats that are shades of grey. Whose side are you on? Whose ‘tower’ are you building? There aren’t any ‘good guys’ in this scenario. There are just a lot of victims. There are far too many ordinary people, living ordinary lives who are now dead or wounded.

As I rode my bike past a park near our home yesterday, I looked at the children running on the grass, people playing soccer, lazing about in lawn chairs. I slowed down and thought for a moment what this park would be like if it were located in Baghdad, or Beirut or Haifa. Could you live with constant bombardment? Please spare me the arguments about who struck the first blow. It sounds like children on a playground. What matters more is who decides to not strike the next blow. And, no, there’s never any excuse to make war on civilians or use them for cover.

Please give what you can to Médecins sans Frontières (Doctors without Borders).

And, of course

The Tower of Babel
1563
Oil on oak panel, 114 x 155 cm
Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna