A Citizen Unremembered - Back to 1939

Spurred by the breakneck pace of technological progress at the end of the industrial revolution, world society as a whole struggled with the hitherto unforeseen issues of over-population and international statesmanship. Through the blood and fire of two world wars, the nascent issues of human rights and globalization came to dominate the world stage, while the widespread rise and development of Socialistic and Communistic ideas raised questions as to what kind of society would be left for future generations. Against this background, British-American poet W.H. Auden penned The Unknown Citizen. This poem’s message of individualistic freedom — the perspective with which it shows us how the all-important individual can come to be quietly subjugated by the overwhelming machinery of state - has never been less understood.

Written in the self-aggrandizing yet empty prose then typical of the socialist propaganda machine, this poem mimics an inscription which could well grace a statue in George Orwell’s 1984. Its title, “To JS/07 M 378 — This Marble Monument Is Erected by the State” indicates the precise, frigid disdain with which such a State would address a citizen; merely a single individual among a mass of millions - duly distinguished and accounted for administratively, of course.

In a smug and satisfied tone, the inscription goes on to elucidate the saintly virtues of this unknown citizen, how he paid his dues and taxes, said and bought the proper things, went to war when called, and gave his children to the state for education without interference. The end of the placard seems almost a typographical error, too forthright - something emphatically dashed off in a Politburo memo, to be edited out before public distribution: “Was he free? Was he happy? The question is absurd: Had anything been wrong, we should certainly have heard.”

The poem instills a growing sense of disquiet in the reader, and with this last literary device, Auden cleverly raises some fundamental questions, among which; what is the worth, the value and fulfillment, to be derived from a life where the sum total of individual efforts and strivings is conformity to a greater whole? Is it not absurd that the ideal man, a man which the state would expend much fanfare to eulogize in deathless marble, is not cited as having achieved a single lasting step of progress for his kind?

Raised in this direct fashion the answer, in the present Western world, is an almost unanimous negative, despite 60 years elapsing since the writing of this work. What the author failed to predict, however, was the underhanded fashion in which the forces so obviously at work in his day would continue forward and affect the coming generations. Under the banner of security, welfare, mental health and quality of life, we have come to willingly embrace many of the ideals silently scorned by Auden’s poem.

Today, we are blessed with national security, social security, financial (welfare and bailout) security, the security from hunger provided by genetically modified foods with the nutritional content of styrofoam and, soon to join them, a medical security which might well require every pregnant mother to take anti-depressants, addicting her unborn fetus to dangerous psychoactive drugs before it even has a chance at life. The question in this case becomes one of species survival — is the human genome capable of remaining viable under such an assault? Rather than a reminiscence for the good old days, or a Luddite assault on current reality in favor of return to past ages of anarchical mayhem, this serves simply to point out the current incarnation of what Auden probably saw as slavery in the context of modern society.

Auden’s poem, when viewed in a sober light, is tremendously moving. The references to “his Union” (and our reports on his Union), “our Social Psychology workers” and “our Eugenist” serve to emphasize the uncaring nature of a State where happiness is gauged by the ownership of those things deemed necessary to the modern man. At the time of its writing, this materialistic interpretation of happiness was a new and novel thing, but the passage of time has served to advance the concept to such a degree that it seems destined to become the single prominent point of global agreement, transcending race, color, creed and perhaps even familial ties.

All of the current institutions about which it is possible to gripe are miscreant solutions, direct descendants of the problems of yesteryear. The fault lies not with policy but with the intentions of those who implement it: it is of no consequence whatever that we all have a number and are accountable to the state, unless those who conceived and operate the system are themselves sold on the fact that the highest goal in life is better sex, a larger TV, and a faster car. In other words, ideals are what have been compromised, not our freedoms — we are freer than ever. A man is free to live his whole life without the faintest concept of Ethics imposed on his conscience, and be protected in his ignorance by a State cherishing so-called “diversity”. If only that same State was so lenient with violations of tax law! With freedom comes responsibility, which is evidently impossible to build into a bureaucracy. Thus, our slavery is not externally imposed — it is self-willed by an ignorant or irresponsible majority.

Were John Donne alive today, he might well warn us not to send for whom the bell tolls: the cold impersonality we complain of when referring to government or large corporations is but an outgrowth of the personal ideals of a majority. Reports on our conduct may agree that we’ve expressed no odd views (it being passé to consider the urge to make a buck an “odd” view), but is this what it takes to make a world we are happy to live in; a world in which we want to raise our children? Emphatically, no.

The period known as the Renaissance saw the bulk of Europe casting off the withering chill of ignorance and superstition to gradually embrace the arts, learning, free thought and the notion of progress. It was a rebellion against the established iron-clad status quo, a fight for freedom of the intellect and of belief. Was this in vain? Are we destined for an ultra-technological future where the nameless individual, infinitely provided for and held fast by the whips of economics and conformity, is charged solely with the task of entertaining himself as the meaningless days count down to his end? Are we to slip into a new dark age, born through the death of the individual among the numberless mass of the uncaring? These questions are absurd, of course. If anything goes wrong, it will certainly be heard.