Weekly Post

Imagine a vessel whose crew is completely untrained in navigation. When asked to choose a captain, the crewmates are unable to determine who is actually qualified to lead — they don’t know the ins and outs of the trade. As such, they will likely select the person who is most persuasive in earning their vote, not the one with actual expertise in seafaring.

Socrates

Family.


Family is a fundamental social structure that deeply shapes individuals and society. Our upbringing and familial influences often define our political, cultural, and religious views. For example, those raised in unjust families may perpetuate injustice, while liberal/conservative families tend to produce like-minded offspring.

Plato, in his work "The Republic," proposed abolishing the traditional family structure in his ideal state. He viewed families as breeding grounds for personal loyalties and individual interests that undermine the collective good. Plato advocated for separating children from their biological parents at birth and raising them communally under the guidance of merit-based guardians.

Plato's radical stance highlights the power of the family unit and the tensions between individual/familial interests and the state's interests.

An interesting conversation took place today in class. Which class? Colonization of Palestine! I had waited all summer only to find that this would be the worst class I’ve taken since starting university. Here’s some context: from the beginning, I’ve been very vocal about my stance—I support Palestinian resistance. However, this doesn’t necessarily mean I support everything about this resistance. There were instances when I agreed with the class materials, and times when I didn’t. Whenever I disagreed, I openly communicated with the class or professor. In the reflections I submit twice a week, I was critical of the readings.

The professor, who seems to be on the extreme side of Palestinian support, didn’t seem to appreciate my critical perspective—or at least, it seemed that way. She didn’t appear very professional, as she didn’t seem open to opposing views. Anyway, the conversation we had today crossed that red line. We were discussing the rise of Hamas and the Second Intifada. A classmate asked, “How does Hamas get funded?” The professor replied, “Iran supports Hamas, Hezbollah supports Hamas, and there are private sources.” I followed up with a question: “Doesn’t the fact that it’s funded directly by foreign governments and private sources delegitimize the organization intending to represent Palestine in the future?” A simple, interesting question.

She could have responded with “yes” or “no” and offered her argument, but what happened next annoyed me. In a serious tone, she replied, “What other alternatives does Hamas have?”—as if I were attacking her. I don’t want to generalize this to all Palestinians or Palestinian supporters. However, a lack of professionalism in teaching diminishes students' experiences. Me? I don’t mind, but imagine a Western student with no prior knowledge of the context, and this professor reacts defensively without reason. Anyway, I’ll keep you updated on everything.

As I read through Henry Kissinger's World Order, I have come to three major realizations about the qualities that are crucial for anyone aspiring to be a top-class politician, particularly in the realm of foreign service.

Before delving into these realizations, it's essential to understand who Henry Kissinger is. Kissinger served as the United States Secretary of State and National Security Advisor under Presidents Richard Nixon and Gerald Ford. He is widely regarded as one of the chief architects of U.S. foreign policy in the late 20th century and is considered one of the most influential diplomats of all time. His strategic thinking and writings on international relations have shaped global diplomacy for decades.

These realizations stem from the qualities and skills that emerge as necessary for success in foreign service, and they are drawn from Kissinger’s insights as well as my own observations.

1. Understanding World and National History
Anyone looking to succeed in diplomacy must possess a profound understanding of both world and national history. Foreign policy decisions are not made out of thin air—they are built on historical contexts that shape a nation’s position in the world. Kissinger emphasizes that the structure of world order is not crafted solely by individual countries but is instead shaped by historical events, conflicts, and cultural developments. A diplomat must understand the historical forces that have shaped the world to navigate complex international relations effectively. For example, Kissinger himself frequently references historical analogies to guide his understanding of contemporary geopolitical issues.

2. Writing Skills
Being able to write clearly and persuasively is an indispensable skill for any politician. While the image of politicians is often associated with public speeches and media appearances, behind the scenes, effective political leaders must be prolific writers. Diplomats, in particular, rely on written communication to articulate complex strategies and ideas. Kissinger, along with other influential figures like Jaishankar, Jake Sullivan, and Chrystia Freeland, is known for publishing extensively on foreign policy. Writing allows politicians to present their ideas thoughtfully and with nuance. Not everything can be expressed in speeches or interviews—sometimes the intricacies of policy require careful articulation on paper.

3. Oratory Skills
The ability to speak clearly and persuasively is another vital attribute for politicians, especially in today’s media-driven world. With 24/7 news cycles and social media platforms amplifying every word a politician says, speaking coherently and convincingly is crucial. Public appearances, debates, and diplomatic negotiations all rely on the power of spoken words. A diplomat or politician who can communicate effectively through speeches will inspire confidence and respect, both domestically and internationally. Mastering the art of public speaking has become a non-negotiable skill for modern politicians, much like how Kissinger’s careful oratory has influenced his legacy.

Education is suffering from narration sickness.

The modern education system has extensively adopted the "banking concept" of education. The subject (teacher) narrates, and the objects (students) listen. The reality and context of the material being taught are narrated in a way that renders them lifeless and petrified.

In the banking concept of education, teachers give and students receive. It is akin to people depositing money in a bank, with the bank merely keeping it. This concept is called "banking" because of this analogy. In this framework, the teacher fills the students with the content of his narration. The students record, memorize, and repeat this content without realizing or questioning its true significance.

What’s the problem with this?

Narration leads students to become containers, mechanically memorizing what’s narrated. What is worse than the narration itself is what it produces:

The more they memorize, the better students they are.
This creates a flawed outcome. Just because they have memorized everything does not mean they have learned it.

In this concept, teachers become depositors, and students become depositories. The concept fundamentally misunderstands education and knowledge as processes of inquiry. It alienates students from teachers. Teachers assume that students know nothing, preventing them from discovering that students can also educate them.

Education must begin with the solution to the teacher-student contradiction.

Here, libertarian education is attractive because it reconciles the sides of the contradiction so that both are simultaneously teachers and students. The banking concept does not offer this solution. Instead, it perpetuates this contradiction: the teacher teaches, and the students are taught. The concept implies that an individual is a spectator, not a re-creator.

Education is the practice of freedom; it is not the practice of domination or possession.

You do not just keep it once you have it; you apply it and stretch it as much as you want. If you simply keep it in your head and don’t make use of it or question it until someone tells you to do so, you are no different from a robot. Therefore, it can be implied that in the banking concept of education, teachers do not make you human.

No one can be authentically human while preventing others from being so.