It is tempting to despair when politics are torn with acrimony and polarized to dysfunction—when democracy itself is menaced by an authoritarian force from within the body politic. Despair runs deeper than pessimism. Pessimism expects the worst of possible outcomes, yes, but without giving up entirely. Despair is a loss of all hope for the future.

Hope prompts and sustains action through dark times. It gives meaning to life lived under the cloud of adversity.

Should we abandon all hope of repairing our politics? Is democracy doomed? Elzbieta Matynia says no to despair and yes to hope, at least for now. It is up to us to use our imagination to overcome indifference, bridge our differences, and revive democracy.

She says this with special authority and exceptional understanding, which comes from witnessing nonviolent resistance to the tyranny of a communist regime in eastern Europe, an academic career of thinking deeply about how to produce democracy, and a particular sensibility for the convergence of politics with arts and humanities. We should listen to what she can tell us, from her unique vantage point, about restoring democracy.

Hope prompts and sustains action through dark times. It gives meaning to life lived under the cloud of adversity.

Matynia is a political sociologist at The New School for Social Research in New York City and founding director of the Transregional Center for Democratic Studies. Her interest focuses on “the state of today’s democracy,” including in the US, where it is “aspirational” but “failing” its citizenry. She writes about democracy’s decline but also the enactment of democracy by citizens.

She was born in Poland and studied sociology there while living under communist rule. These were her formative years of “life as a citizen,” she writes, before she left to teach and ultimately stay in the United States because she could not return to “Poland under martial law.”

While in Poland, Matynia studied the underground theater movement against communism. She was impressed by the positive impact of its peaceful character. “Speech action” could replace violence, and authoritarianism could be defied peacefully, she came to see upon later reflection.

The outbreak of brutal wars in today’s world, Matynia observes, would seem to confirm that warfare is the only way to defend democracy. The mounting battle, however, is between hope and despair, trust and suspicion, within the US and beyond where voices are being silenced and minds closed.

Leading a meaningful and responsible life means critically engaging what we think we know. The absence of questioning is the source of what Matynia calls “mis-knowing,” that is, of knowing something erroneously and acting on it wrongfully. Knowledge is socially produced. It isn’t a private affair. If we live in a knowledge silo or information bubble, our susceptibility to mis-knowledge intensifies and the potential for violence increases.

Reflecting on the sources of mis-knowing can help to illuminate and ameliorate an acutely conflicted world. The image of a bridge figures prominently in Matynia’s idea of how to reflect together critically and constructively. Literature helps us to imagine building bridges over walls that separate us from one another (“Tribute to a Bridge: The Bridge on the Drina, Evo Andric´,” Social Research 89.2, 2022).

A bridge is where people can meet each other, where they may pause to rest and converse with other travelers. In conversation they might begin to feel at home with one another and become more trustful as they talk and listen to each other’s stories. The bridge is a public square, a place that facilitates initial contact, encourages being with others who are not necessarily likeminded, and provides opportunities to see the world from different perspectives.

Exchanging stories is a start toward restoring a broken democracy. It can bring about a gradual removal of personal filters and lead toward shared interests and common ground. Citizens can chip away at mis-knowing in the “vital space” of greeting, meeting, and conversing, where they can discover each other and broaden social knowledge. It is a process that takes time to develop.

Rather than Samuel Beckett’s Endgame, with its dark-humored regret over losing what was previously taken for granted in life, Matynia opts to speak up hopefully for a nonviolent democratic renewal. She envisions a recommitment to democratic principles of tolerance, rights, and the rule of law. Her literary sensibility and sociological insight converge on a dramaturgical notion of performing democracy by conducting public dialogues that bring about agreements even in agonistic contexts. True dialogue does not incite hate or violence, but it can release a “robust civic creativity” as citizens talk, learn, and reason together.

Today’s U-turn toward the darkness of authoritarianism, fueled by an attack on pluralism, renders the future of democracy uncertain. The need is ever greater for citizens to meet in public spaces where they can “interact through speech.” We the people, all of us, share the guilt, Matynia insists, of neglecting to speak and........

© Common Dreams