Still more puzzling is the failure ofnmost critics to answer Solzhenitsyn’snfundamental premise, which he spellednout quite clearly in his speech. Arguingnthat the failure of Western willnreflected a cause deep within our politicalntraditions, he concluded that: “Thisnmeans that the mistake must be at thenvery root, at the very foundation ofnthought in modern times. I refer to thenprevailing Western view of the worldnwhich was born in the Renaissance andnhas found political expression since thenAge of Enlightenment.”nHere is the crux of the controversy.nYet only one analyst (Charles Kesler,nwriting in National Review threenmonths after the speech) made the vitalnpoint: Solzhenitsyn is not anti-Western,nat least not in the same sense in whichnhe is anti-Soviet. He is antimodern. Asnunlike as the U.S. and the U.S.S.R. maynbe, they are downright similar in comparisonnwith, say, Plato’s Republic. AsnKesler puts it, “his understanding . . .nis more intelligible in the context of thenNicomachean Ethics than of War andnPeace. “A defense against Solzhenitsyn’snattack, then, is perforce a defense of thenwhole intellectual synthesis symbolizednby the Renaissance. Perhaps the UnitednStates is an unlikely place to seek suchna defense. Our entire political traditionnis modern; our philosophical controversiesnhave remained circumscribednby the Renaissance. Unlike many Europeanncountries (including, of course,nRussia), we have no sizable contraryntraditions. Unaccustomed as we are tonsuch debates, it was inevitable that Solzhenitsyn’snspeech would land on initiallyninfertile soil.nStill, the modern consciousness isnbased upon premodern understanding.nWestern thought today reflects the impetusnof thousands of years of development.nSo to reject the ancients is nonsimple decision. In fact, as Leo Straussnreminded us, modern society is madenpossible only by the grace of the ancientnunderstanding. Our society takes forngranted the strong moral values of itsnforbears. The gravamen of Solzhenit­nChronicles of Culturensyn’s indictment is that we have ceasednto respect those underlying moralnvalues, thus becoming decadent. Ournculture relies on an understanding itndoes not often express. Or, as RonaldnBerman aptly puts it, “secular societynrests upon values it has not itself provided.”nWhen these values are shaken,nthe society on which they rest is naturallynimperiled. This (again Kesler saw thenpoint first) is the real meaning of “ThenWorld Split Apart”—our society is dividednphilosophically against itself.nCertainly there are questionable facetsnof Solzhenitsyn’s argument, andnseveral are uncovered in these new essays.nIs it necessarily true, for instance,nas Solzhenitsyn said in introducing hisnremarks, that “truth is seldom sweet;nit is almost invariably bitter”? And werenthe Middle Ages truly marked by “despoticnrepression of man’s physical nature.””nHarold Berman points out that,nin fact, the Middle Ages saw the growthnof great cities and Gothic cathedrals,nlegal and commercial systems, literaturenand the arts. They were politically repressed,nno doubt, but physically.’ Morento the point, can it be said with certaintynthat the peoples of Eastern Europenhave been spiritually strengthened bynthe crushing communist oppression?nThat may be true for such a stalwartnsoul as Solzhenitsyn himself; for lessernmen the system seems enervating. Andnfinally, is Solzhenitsyn accurate in hisnclaim that the American political systemnis based on the pursuit of individualnpleasure alone? He bases that contentionnon the reference in the Declarationnof Independence to the “pursuitnof happiness.” But “happiness” in thatncontext should be understood in a differentnsense, paralleling the “happiness”ncited by Aristotle as man’s highestnaspiration.nnni^ooming above all these particularnquestions is the one central debate betweennauthority and liberty, religiousncertainty and pluralism. His backgroundnmight well prevent Solzhenitsyn fromnappreciating the greatest achievementsnof the secular world in this realm. Thenkey question of American pluralismnmay not be so much which religiousnviews one accepts, but rather whethernone is open to religious claims. EvennSolzhenitsyn himself bows to pluralismnin lamenting that “we have lost the conceptnof a Supreme Complete Entity.”nThis theme is one of the most consistentnin Western thought; its paternity cannbe traced through Matthew Arnold,nBurke, Pascal, Augustine—all the waynback to the wellspring of Westernnthought in the origins of Judaism. IfnSolzhenitsyn had continued the debatenrather than retiring into seclusion, henwould have noticed that his opponentsnseemed unable to defend the fundamentalnaxioms of modernity. He mightnhave remarked that American intellectuals,nby and large, live within a philosophicalntradition they cannot themselvesnsupport—that they lead unexaminednlives, with all the attendant dangers.nIf they are unable to rally to refutenhis claims, no wonder they have lostntheir collective will.nAt the same time, Solzhenitsyn mightnalso have noticed the presence of a “naturalnconstituency” for his ideas: a segmentnof the American population thatnembraces both the institutions of modernndemocracy and its underlying foundationsnin religious faith. But if thisnprophet seeks out such a following, henwill find it in the middle classes, notnamong the intellectual elite. Yes, Solzhenitsyn’snunderstanding of Americannculture is inadequate, precisely becausenhis information comes from the culturalnarbiters within the intelligentsia. So,nironically, his speech at Harvard—anringing denunciation of cultural decayn—was delivered in a hotbed of the verynrationalism with which, he argued,nthat decay begins. Dn