O Espírito de uma Nação
Quando um simplista quer complicar alguma coisa bastante simples, de modo a passar por mais inteligente do que é, recorre frequentemente à definição. Por isso define o outro de maneira superficial e prossegue no seu erro elaborando toda uma teoria recorrendo aos aparelhos conceptuais que conhece. Quem se habitua à realidade das cores, uma realidade superficial, nunca conseguirá compreender o que se esconde atrás delas (a refracção da luz, o valor da estrutura material). Para os simples o branco é branco, o preto é preto, o violeta é violeta, e “porque sim”.
A invenção dos nacionalistas “Minho Timorenses” é um fruto de inteligências (fica ao vosso critério o uso da palavra) mal-formadas, que consideram que as ideias se moldam aos nossos desejos. Antes éramos um Império e como fôssemos poucos tínhamos que convencer os outros que os acolhíamos no nosso seio... A ideia é um regresso da concepção utilitária-marxista. Estes neo-marxistas são duplamente desonestos. Primeiro porque se encontram imersos numa teoria materialista, claramente vinculada ao materialismo marxista (Marx era àvido leitor de Hume). Em segundo lugar porque querem saber mais das escolhas dos nossos antepassados do que eles próprios, afirmando que estes não acreditavam nos princípios professados, mas que olhavam para as ideias da mesma forma que eles, tendo em conta os seus interesses materiais (algo absolutamente insustentado).
É por isso fundamental insistir na não existência de um pensamento do passado e outro do futuro, mas de um pensamento cristão e outro que se lhe opõe.
Uma Nação que é mais que uma Tribo! Que é espírito e não corpo...
Que rejeita o racismo, como sempre rejeitou (como é facilmente demonstrável pela existência na Cristandade de escravos brancos e negros, de negros possuidores de negócios e mesmo de escravos, de escravos por motivos espirituais, no caso os judeus), por ver que a fixação no corpo impede o florescimento do espírito.
Não é possível ser cristão, ou defender os valores cristãos, e fazer a apologia de que o mais importante é o corpo!
Em boa verdade não se apresentam face a nós duas alternativas de espírito. Apresenta-se um racismo-materialista e uma espiritualidade que prossegue a tradição filosófica clássica-cristã, anti-materialista e anti-imanentista!
Está fácil de ver que a questão nada tem a ver com o Minho, Timor, o Cabo Horn ou o Bangladesh, mas com saber “quem somos nós”.
Deixo-vos este texto de Chesterton sobre a inutilidade das questões raciais.
A nação transcende a raça, como o espírito transcende o corpo!
“As I have said above, these defences generally exhibit themselves most emphatically in the form of appeals to physical science. And of all the forms in which science, or pseudo-science, has come to the rescue of the rich and stupid, there is none so singular as the singular invention of the theory of races.
When a wealthy nation like the English discovers the perfectly patent fact that it is making a ludicrous mess of the government of a poorer nation like the Irish, it pauses for a moment in consternation, and then begins to talk about Celts and Teutons. As far as I can understand the theory, the Irish are Celts and the English are Teutons. Of course, the Irish are not Celts any more than the English are Teutons. I have not followed the ethnological discussion with much energy, but the last scientific conclusion which I read inclined on the whole to the summary that the English were mainly Celtic and the Irish mainly Teutonic. But no man alive, with even the glimmering of a real scientific sense, would ever dream of applying the terms “Celtic” or “Teutonic” to either of them
in any positive or useful sense. (…)
That sort of thing must be left to people who talk about the Anglo-Saxon race, and extend the expression to America. How much of the blood of the Angles and Saxons (whoever they were) there remains in our mixed British, Roman, German, Dane, Norman, and Picard stock is a matter only interesting to wild antiquaries. And how much of that diluted blood can possibly remain in that roaring whirlpool of America into which a cataract of Swedes, Jews, Germans, Irishmen, and Italians is perpetually pouring, is a matter only interesting to lunatics. It would have been wiser for the English governing class to have called upon some other god. All other gods, however weak and warring, at least boast of being constant. But science boasts of being in a flux for ever; boasts of being unstable as water. (…)
And England and the English governing class never did call on this absurd deity of race until it seemed, for an instant, that they had no other god to call on. All the most genuine Englishmen in history would have yawned or laughed in your face if you had begun to talk about Anglo-Saxons. If you had attempted to substitute the ideal of race for the ideal of nationality, I really do not like to think what they would have said. I certainly should not like to have been the officer of Nelson who suddenly discovered his French blood on the eve of Trafalgar. I should not like to have been the Norfolk or Suffolk gentleman who had to expound to Admiral Blake by what demonstrable ties of genealogy he was irrevocably bound to the Dutch. The truth of the whole matter is very simple.
Nationality exists, and has nothing in the world to do with race. Nationality is a thing like a church or a secret society; it is a product of the human soul and will; it is a spiritual product. And there are men in the modern world who would think anything and do anything rather than admit that anything could be a spiritual product. (…)
Now, of this great spiritual coherence, independent of external circumstances, or of race, or of any obvious physical thing, Ireland is the most remarkable example. Rome conquered nations, but Ireland has conquered races. The Norman has gone there and become Irish, the Scotchman has gone there and become Irish, the Spaniard has gone there and become Irish, even the bitter soldier of Cromwell has gone there and become Irish. Ireland, which did not exist even politically, has been stronger than all the races that existed scientifically. The purest Germanic blood, the purest Norman blood, the purest blood of the passionate Scotch patriot, has not been so attractive as a nation without a flag. Ireland, unrecognized and oppressed, has easily absorbed races, as such trifles are easily absorbed. She has easily disposed of physical science, as such superstitions are easily disposed of. Nationality in its weakness has been stronger than ethnology in its strength. Five triumphant races have been absorbed, have been defeated by a defeated nationality.
This being the true and strange glory of Ireland, it is impossible to hear without impatience of the attempt so constantly made among her modern sympathizers to talk about Celts and Celticism. Who were the Celts? I defy anybody to say. Who are the Irish? I defy any one to be indifferent, or to pretend not to know. Mr. W.B. Yeats, the great Irish genius who has appeared in our time, shows his own admirable penetration in discarding altogether the argument from a Celtic race. But he does not wholly escape, and his followers hardly ever escape, the general objection to the Celtic argument. The tendency of that argument is to represent the Irish or the Celts as a strange and separate race, as a tribe of eccentrics in the modern world immersed in dim legends and fruitless dreams. Its tendency is to exhibit the Irish as odd, because they see the fairies. Its trend is to make the Irish seem weird and wild because they sing old songs and join in strange dances. But this is quite an error; indeed, it is the opposite of the truth. It is the English who are odd because they do not see the fairies. It is the inhabitants of Kensington who are weird and wild because they do not sing old songs and join in strange dances. In all this the Irish are not in the least strange and separate, are not in the least Celtic, as the word is commonly and popularly used. In all this the Irish are simply an ordinary sensible nation, living the life of any other ordinary and sensible nation which has not been either sodden with smoke or oppressed by money-lenders, or otherwise corrupted with wealth and science. There is nothing Celtic about having legends. It is merely human. The Germans, who are (I suppose) Teutonic, have hundreds of legends, wherever it happens that the Germans are human. There is nothing Celtic about loving poetry; the English loved poetry more, perhaps, than any other people before they came under the shadow of the chimney-pot and the shadow of the chimney-pot hat. It is not Ireland which is mad and mystic; it is Manchester which is mad and mystic, which is incredible, which is a wild exception among human things. Ireland has no need to play the silly game of the science of races; Ireland has no need to pretend to be a tribe of visionaries apart. In the matter of visions, Ireland is more than a nation, it is a model nation.”
in Heretics, cap.XIII “Celts and Celtophiles”Etiquetas: Pensamento Tradicional