WHITAKER CHAMBERS: TOKENS OF HOPE AND TRUTH

An ancient Chinese curse says, "May you live in interesting times." This has been an interesting year. I say that not in self-pity, but with a smile and a rich appreciation of ironies that abound. An effort to awaken Missourians to the manner in which our own public schools are being hijacked by a small bunch of educational elites, begun in this space last February and continuing as a periodic work-in-progress since, has had its setbacks and its small triumphs, its long days and nights, its huge frustrations. In this, of course, it resembles any worthwhile effort in any sphere of life: It is difficult.

In keeping with the one who enjoined us, "Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid," in my own clumsy way, I am a dedicated, congenital optimist. I cling passionately to a belief that when the facts are laid before an aroused public, democratic self-governance, with all its imperfections, is possible.

Nearly 40 years ago, in a letter to his friend William F. Buckley, the late author and editor Whitaker Chambers offered some words for the ages. After Chambers died in 1961, the Chambers-Buckley exchange of letters was published in a book. Chambers was the central protagonist in the famous Alger Hiss case of communist infiltration of the U.S. government. He was also a passionately convinced and convincing Christian. Chambers embraced a profound pessimism, believing that when he quit the atheistic communist movement of his misbegotten youth to join up as a passionate anti-communist, he had left the winning side of history to join the losers in the 20th century's titanic struggle.

Despite Chambers' deep pessimism, which ultimately proved mistaken given our victory in the Cold War, as the courageous man he was he could do no other. His lengthy testimony, laid out in "Witness," is an enduring classic of 20th century non-fiction. In his letter to Buckley, Chambers' historical pessimism came flowing out in these eloquent words that foresaw ruin and catastrophe for freedom:

"... That is why it is idle to talk of preventing the wreck of Western civilization, for it is already a wreck from within. That is why we can hope to do little more now than snatch a fingernail of a saint from the rack, or a handful of ashes from the faggots, and bury them secretly in a flower pot against the day, ages hence, when a few men begin again to dare to believe that there was once something else, that something else is thinkable, and need some evidence of what it was, and the fortifying knowledge that there were those who, at the great nightfall, took loving care to preserve the tokens of hope and truth."

How beautifully Chambers stated our challenge! "... (A)t the great nightfall," to take "loving care to preserve the tokens of hope and truth. ..." To resist cynicism, to turn away from the siren call of materialism, to refuse to give in to despair, to preserve, protect and enhance what another writer calls The Permanent Things. Isn't this our task, at Christmas, and always? Isn't this the work of the best teachers and scholars, the best parents, the best grandparents, every day? As I observed above, Chambers ultimately proved mistaken, his historical pessimism, at least as he handicapped the great struggle between freedom and communism, perhaps overblown.

Still, although his "great nightfall" came and went with a victory for freedom, great nightfalls of a different order and magnitude face us all each and every day. Let us take inspiration from Chambers' courageous example. As we face them, let's do the tough work of preserving each and every one of "the tokens of hope and truth.'

Merry Christmas, one and all.

~Peter Kinder is the associate publisher of the Southeast Missourian and a state senator from Cape Girardeau.