Division and Unity

One of the things about contemporary discourse that I find quite tiresome is the assumption that unity is always better than division. For instance, in statements like this: "I prefer to concentrate on the things that unite us rather than the things that divide us".

Surely unity and division are both desirable aspects of society, in different contexts? One might be desirable in one situation, the other in another situation. I realize this seems a very obvious point. But then, why is the "unity" card always held to trump the "division" card, when it comes to rhetoric and speechifying?

In a sermon some time ago, Bishop Barron made the point that a society needs both bridges and walls. Surely this is obvious?

In fact, walls seem more fundamental than bridges. Let's imagine all the bridges in a country disappeared overnight. (We'll mercifully assume nobody was crossing them at the time.) That would present challenges, to be sure.

But imagine if all the walls disappeared. Calamity! (Let's even suppose that nobody is flattened by falling roofs, somehow. Even then, it would be calamitous.)

Think about how monotonous and depressing a society without divisions would really be. Communal living quarters...unisex bathrooms...it sounds a bit like the remade Battlestar Galactica without the fun parts.

But, even if you don't take it to the point of absurdity, the idea of a society without divisions is pretty dreary. Why is the word "diversity" waved like it's magical and prestigious, while "division" is stigmatised? They mean pretty much the same thing.

I do value unity. For instance, on this blog, I've written about my appreciation for big public events like the World Cup or a general election. (I've especially written about my memories of the 1990 World Cup, a unique example of national unity.)

But these special occasions are only special because they're exceptional. If we had nothing but unity all the time, they'd be completely unremarkable. As Shakespeare famously said: "If all the year were playing holidays to sport would be as tedious as to work." I'd actually like significantly more big public occasions. But they'd still be exceptional.

Unity seems much more meaningful when it's built across divisions, rather than obliterating them. Whenever I've been to a pro-life march, I'm always very pleased by the various county and local banners that are carried.

One of the most famous parts of Homer's Iliad is the "catalogue of ships", which lists all the different contingents which travelled to Troy to recapture Helen. It's mind-numbingly dull to read (just like the genealogies in the Bible), but it does make the point that the war is a very big deal-- that it united all the different Greek city-states.

And, of course, division is often valuable in itself. Is a monolithic society really a good thing?

Being a nationalist, I do think it's better for a nation to have a large degree of homogeneity when it comes to basics such as ethnicity and language. Even here, though, I don't think a nation should be a monolith. (And it rarely is, as we're always being reminded.)

As a sort of postcript, I've always disliked that rather dull ballad, "On the One Road", 

We're on the one road
Sharing the one load
We're on the road to God knows where
We're on the one road
It may be the wrong road
But we're together now who cares
North men, South men, comrades all
Dublin, Belfast, Cork and Donegal
We're on the one road swinging along
Singing a soldier's song.

Doesn't really make the heart leap, does it? National unity should only really apply to times of national emergency. Once the emergency is past, let a thousand flowers bloom and the fireworks recommence. That's how I feel, anyway.