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Diese alten Felder

 By Thomas Hulse 

While abroad in Germany, the land of Dichter und Denker—poets and thinkers—I have found a culture quite different from my own in America. Although both are modern, Western democracies, they are each rather distinct from the other. Here in Germany, as I walk down the street of Am Sande, I am flanked by medieval buildings 600 years old. As I pass beneath the shadow of St. Michaelis Kirche, I think how the sweet organ music of Johann Sebastian Bach once echoed across the cobblestones. And as I ride the bus, looking over the first heath blooming throughout the villages, I marvel at how many generations must have also gathered to see these small purple flowers. These were people who had loved, hated, quarreled, laughed, warred, and made peace. Still, after all this time and change, the Lünebuger Heide springs to life in these old fields every year. Germany’s land is brimming with rich history, and the people reflect that richness in character. In contrast to America, Germans seem satisfied with their lot. Rather than keeping their nose to the grindstone in endless pursuit of money, fame, or success, they are more content to raise their heads towards the heath and to enjoy it. With generous support from their social democracy, the opportunity to hike in the Black Forest is often more precious than a tax break. I doubt whether the same might ever be said of Americans.

To be sure, the benefits and flaws of America compared to Germany are complex, but I nevertheless see in my own homeland a lack of satisfaction. Despite having founded our nation 100 years earlier and despite Germany facing its utter destruction a mere 77 years ago, America remains the more restless of the two. To Germans, the past—beautiful and horrific—unites with the present to plan its path towards the future. Americans are always looking for the biggest; Germans are always looking for the best. For much of our history, America has been able to look elsewhere—out West, out in the Pacific, out across the world—for its role in relation to others. What it has lacked for a long time is its eye turned inward on itself. Although we may once have had a sense of common duty and purpose in exemplifying liberal democracy, our restlessness has let these traditions begin to slip into anachronisms. If America is ever to find satisfaction at home and with its place in the world, its people must have the bravery to define a principled self-image. What this will be is hard to say, but if a dismembered, ruined country like Germany could find the energy to turn from a fascist, genocidal regime into a new contender for “Leader of the Free World,” America can adjust its attitudes too.

Once, when Europe was gripped in its most brutal war—one which would ultimately come to define its cosmopolitan, humanistic, and egalitarian commitments—Winston Churchill called out for aid that “the New World, with all its power and might, step forth to the rescue and liberation of the old.” The New World answered and guided the old towards its bright future. Now, as we ourselves face a growing crisis of definition, we might also call out for guidance, that those old fields return the favor towards the new. 

Thomas Hulse is a McConnell Scholar in the class of 2023. He is studying physics, political science, and mathematics at the University of Louisville.