The apocalyptic vision of the ancient Mayans, the destruction of
the world, did not come to pass on December 21. Indeed, the
cosmology of those ancient people, who inhabited Mexico and Central
America from roughly 2000 BC, has given countless wackos a
raison d’être, a platform for the ultimate “gotcha”
theory. As the world awoke to sameness that day, there was
doubtless relief that the grim tocsin of the Mayans was just an
eschatological goof.
But before being too critical of the Mayans, known for their
temples, metallurgy, and ancient writing, we should remember that
other civilizations have similar concepts of reckoning. For the
West it is the Second Coming of the Messiah who shall come to
judge. For the Hindus it is the tenth incarnation of Lord Vishnu,
known as the Kalki, who visits the Earth at the end of the current
age, known as the Kali Yuga, with an agenda of ridding the world of
defilement. There is nothing new about vindictive eschatology, the
branch of philosophy dealing with all that is final.
One could imagine what might happen if the United States were to
make such a prediction of global doom that did not come to pass.
Would the world hold us accountable and short our equity and debt
securities and currency? Would American financial assets,
commercial aircraft, ships, and real estate be attached by foreign
court orders — and would American nationals abroad be harassed,
arrested, and greeted with shrieks of execration? Would angry
foreign mobs seize tall macadamia lattes with extra foam at
Starbucks everywhere? Not even an iPod would be safe. The doyens
and doyennes of media would be handed the gift of gifts, engaging
in chic America-bashing in perpetuity. A saturnine Senate Majority
Leader Harry Reid might commence self-flagellation before us all. A
resolute House Speaker John Boehner could stare down the world,
like John Wayne facing off against angry desperados. These are of
course imponderable contingencies and eventually we must move on
and constructively ask, “So where do we go from here?”
Obviously the initial step would be to demand an apology from
the descendants of the Mayan civilization. The Mayans of today are
mainly a rural people engaged in animal husbandry and in
agriculture, raising legumes and corn. Finding them without a GPS
should not be difficult, although the question of accountability
for the misguided predictions of their ancestors may seem unfair
and unduly punitive. As an emissary, Vice President Joe Biden with
his standard grimaces could be enough to elicit apologies from all
over Mexico and Central America, but he would also need to spend
some time at Berlitz learning key Spanish vocabulary and idioms to
show the cross-cultural sensitivity of a partner to the north.
But even as we contemplate extracting an apology from an ancient
civilization, it becomes obvious that we must first hold ourselves
accountable — to occupy the moral high ground. This is the hard
part, however a review board chaired by the vice president could be
charged with finding out what bucks have stopped where, where they
should have stopped, and what the stoppage actually accomplished —
and what the opportunity cost of non-buck stoppages is to our
society if too many people are engaged in passing bucks. The review
board would address whether the expression, “I am accountable,”
actually has any meaning in public life. This would not be an easy
mission for the vice president, although it would show the world
that we stand for accountability and best practices in buck
passing.
Ultimately the United States, a superpower, would need to
facilitate global reconciliation. Europe is too preoccupied with
maintaining the euro order of things, and Russia’s Vladimir Putin
is not known for soothing words and deeds. China, which is both
industrial behemoth and developing country, depending on its
objectives, does not yet project enough trust in the West.
A Rose Garden meeting of the world’s cosmological thinkers,
where Dos Equis and Coronas could be served, might be the needed
catharsis. Experts who study final events everywhere would converge
on Washington — jubilant in their hour of glory. President Obama,
statesmanlike, nuanced, and sveltely kitted out in Hartmarx would
say reassuringly to grateful eschatologists, “We are all
Mayans.”
