For centuries, civilizations
have risen and civilizations have fallen -- some by the despotic winds of
external forces, others by the internal cancer of their own apparatus. But of
the civilizations that have resonated longest and strongest, Professor Amy Chua
asserts in her book,
Day of Empire,
one single trait spans them all: Tolerance.
Chua’s thesis commences
examining the Achaemenid Empire, arguing that in 550 BC when Cyrus the Great,
grandson of Astyages, overthrew Astyages as ruler of the Median kingdom, it
wasn’t by way of cultural imposition, but rather clemency and broadmindedness.
In fact, according to Chua, Cyrus, unlike other rulers of the time, actually
preferred little to do with the personal lives of his subjects, writing that
“[he] interfered very little…leaving them their gods and their desperate
cultures.” Indeed, when Cyrus annexed the city of Babylon, he even paid homage
to the god Marduk, demonstrating respect for the Babylonian people.
Acknowledging the success of his father’s methodology, Cambyses,
upon assuming the Achaemenid Empire, adopted a comparable philosophy. He not
only refrained from “imposing Persian culture” on Egyptians after conquering
Egypt, but he permitted Egypt’s culture to remain integral, subsequently
allowing himself to become “Egyptianized” in the process.
The Achaemenid Empire isn’t the
only civilization Chua contends benefited from tolerance, though. Chua surveys
a number of former great societies, including China’s Tang Dynasty, The Mongol
Empire, and Rome, and observes that while Rome may have territorially fallen
short of The Achaemenid Empire, it idealistically mirrored Persia in respects to
its citizenry producing the same favorable outcome: longevity. Rome for example,
in its prime, was home to upwards of 60 million people, various languages, and a
plethora of a literature, science and art. It was -- to say -- all-encompassing
and tolerant, precisely what Chua argues fueled the “glory of Rome,” which
handedly stretched thousands of years, far longer than those societies that
rejected tolerance.
Moreover, to become an emperor
in Rome, one needn’t even be born in Rome. Emperor Trajan, for example, was a
native of Spain, as was his successor, Hadrian. Suffice it to say, Rome learned
from Greece’s shortfalls. Greece not only promoted segregation, but reaped
internal war and conflict as a result -- an astute examination made by Emperor
Claudius, who once asked, “What else was the downfall of Sparta and Athens, than
that they held the conquered in contempt as foreigners?”
As Rome did with Greece, the
Tang Dynasty also learned from the mistakes of its fragmented predecessors. In
effect, after Li Yuan (also known as Gaozu) conquered the Sui, it sought to
create and expand military alliances rather than additional conflict. In a
stunning display of humility and respect, Gaozu even used the character qi in a letter to formally address the
Turkic ruler -- a character typically reserved for superiors. Tang military
success was also largely a result of integrating and incorporating
“foreigners.”
Similarly, the Mongol Empire
too utilized an all-inclusive military strategy, unifying various clans, sects,
and cultures all across Eastern Europe and Asia with the sole purpose of
obtaining hegemonic dominance. Indeed, prior to Genghis’ conjoint tactics there
was no Mongol Empire, but rather merely various unorganized bands of competing
Mongol clans. Yet, by the height of Genghis’ rein, more land fell under the
Mongol Empire than any other Empire before or since. And while the Mongol Empire
was certainly known for its brutality towards the unwilling, it extended a
surprisingly liberal amount of tolerance towards those cooperatively under its
reign -- even embracing intermarriage.
Chua goes on to cite numerous
societal examples of cultural inclusivity and tolerance -- as well as the
benefits that permeated as a result -- from early Spain to the economically
explosive Dutch; however, is equally swift to recognize those societies that
haven’t flourished, while successively hypothesizing causation. Spain, after the
Spanish Inquisition becomes a searing example. According to Chua, early Spain’s
successful expansion, in part, was due to its religious tolerance and ability to
incorporate Jews, Muslims, and Christians.
However, by 1478, as the
Spanish Inquisition commenced, religious tolerance was replaced by a number of
decrees mandating Jews and Muslims convert to Catholicism or face reprisals. In
other words, Spain’s self-destructive seed was only planted after “the Spanish
monarchy…officially embraced intolerance.” Likewise, the British Empire, which
industrially thrived preceding the integration of Jews, Huguenots, and Scots in
1689, met its fate after failing to note the successful tactics of The
Achaemenid Empire. That is to say, as the British Empire expanded and conquered,
it did not permit the various cultures under its umbrella to flourish, but
rather “alienated its colonies and fomented intolerance” -- ultimately fomenting
its decline.
Chua ensues dissecting the
contemporary world, in particular, the United States, citing Thomas Jefferson,
who once wrote, “[I]t does me no injury for my neighbor to say there are twenty
gods, or no god. It neither picks my pocket not breaks my leg.” Principally,
Chua attributes the U.S.’s rise to hyperpower, despite commanding only 5 percent
of the world’s population, to its “human capital” and religious tolerance. The
Puritans, for example, who fled Europe because of religious persecution, viewed
New England as a beacon of religious freedom and liberation.
Equally, according to Chua,
roughly 95 percent of Americans today can trace their heritage to someone from
another country. Suffice it to say, the U.S. indeed is still a nation comprised
of immigrants and immigrant descendants. Moreover, America’s relatively
tranquil assimilation process has facilitated the U.S. in garnering resources
and talents from across the globe, while simultaneously helping mold it into a
world leader of technology and innovation. Chua cautions, however, that America
risks echoing the faults of its hegemonic predecessors by becoming complacent
and intolerant, and overlooking what made America successful to begin with. Chua
employs America’s hyperbolic rhetoric and politicization of immigration as
merely one dangerous example.
Ultimately, Chua doesn’t just
peg The United States as the first “nation of immigrants” and first “mature
democracy,” but asserts that a measure of dissent is important, albeit vital, to
the resonance of a liberal American society -- arguing that for this reason
authentic “enlightenment” may never be achievable.
And while Chua accentuates the
concept of tolerance as a means to a society’s successful hegemony, even stating
herself that, “To achieve not regional but world dominance, a society must
attract, command the loyalty of, and motivate the world’s most valuable human
capital.” Chua’s repeated employment of the notion of tolerance is likely, and
more importantly, intended to underscore the plethora of societal advantages
made possible only by way of the application of tolerance -- a challenge to
which Chua masterfully meets via historical exemplar.
Brandon Loran Maxwell.
